Call to Adventure

I slouch on the sofa with my head in my hands, because this shit's too much for me.

"You mean… shit, just come again, would you?"

"Yes. I regret to reveal this to you but the summary of your situation is as follows: You are one of the remaining specimens sealed in the Quadren-quisoppe. A time dilator, if you will."

"So, I'm in the future?"

"Hmm… It depends on what region of the spectrum you take as reference. However, from your perspective, yes."

Future should be nice, but not when you're talking with a fucking octopus-man.

"Are you real?"

"Indeed. I understand your inferior understanding of racial diversity that is born from your isolation. However, you need to pay no mind. I and other facilitators from this quad will help you in correcting your deficiencies."

Hell, I guess, let's just roll with it.

So begins my days of eating delicious sludge, doing basic puzzles and doing the "cycle" of sleeping, eating and pooping.

I feel like a lab rat being groomed for something, but I don't care. I am allowed to browse through a 3d library–it has everything! From all the books of GoT(it's incomplete, nonetheless), Twilight; To classics and literature about random topics. There are even books on how to clip nails.

I asked the octopus whether the library is mine alone. He gave a snobby, complaint of "primitives and their ownership". Guess they took the communism root in the future, eh?

My days of pure bliss came to halt when I was opening the Twilight books.

The octopus man was red in color, something which I learnt from continued observance meant anger. So, he was crimson-angry.

I sipped on my sludge when the octopus man settled on one of the stool-like objects that manifests magically whenever the octopus-man makes an appearance in this room.

"May I ask, what it is, monsieur?"

"You and your inferior jokes, primitive. I am not in the correct endocrine state to positively review them."

"Ok…so, what's up?"

The color slowly bled from crimson and replaced with blue. He seems to have relaxed.

"We have kept you in optimal living conditions until now, specimen #$@"

Yes, I seem to have numbers attached to me. I have no clue what those numbers are. Everytime I hear them, it feels like a rap-music thrusted into a blender and turned to high speed. I had asked him what those numbers were and he had just shrugged it off with "you need not worry with, primitive".

"Your objective for your continued existence has appeared."

Hmm… is it going to be a death-match tourney? Like, till the last man standing, kinda shit?

"You must venture into the code and acquire the 'Eye of Ophestalus'"

Great, I got a mission. So, I must be representing the octopuses.

 "What is the… 'code'?"

The octopus pointed his index finger at me and like a balloon pop, my brain was filled with information.

"Ugh…"

"I must repeat, if you show any resistance to the assignme—"

"No, no. I'll do it. It's just… nothing. I'll do it."

Guess what? No death tourney for me. It's just a retrieval quest. I need to go there and get this "eye" thing. That's it.