Short Story | Dystopian Space Adventure
The Michigan Challenge
Mother Earth is split between difficulty levels one through six, similar to the six faces of a singular die.
1. Eagle
Centuries ago, Mother Earth turned into an inhospitable realm, as did her flora and fauna. Those who remained on that planet for World War V (WWV) condemned their future generations to lives of misery and human subjectivity. Before the onset of WWIV, also known as the AI Uproar, where computers reigned supreme for thousands of millennia, my ancestors helped build the cryogenic machines used to venture outward, towards humanity’s next destination. It was over 900,000 years ago that we escaped from a dying planet and claimed a cerulean moon of beauty as our new home.
The first families to enter Jupiter’s orbit were amongst the elites. Now, we live in opulent castles made of diamond, nickel, and sapphire nestled along the shores of a glowing underground sea. Above ground, the peasants earn a living because their ancestors had to use equipment built by mine to get here. Sometimes I visit the surface, but never for leisure. Compared to the urban underground and its solar lighting, the surface is a wasteland. Yet, resilient crops flourish amidst the desolation, including the mystical purple herb that my friends and I smoke clandestinely. Today’s visit to the surface started normally, but my younger sibling and I had the craziest of ideas. We are going to complete the Michigan Challenge.
****
“Ten pounds?” Frog the Farmer asks. “You usually get forty. What‘s going on, Eagle.”
My best friend, and twin sibling, Falcon, sits next to me on this farmer’s tufted couch of green. Truthfully, we have something crazy planned for next week. A viral event accessible only to elites such as ourselves.
“We’re visiting Earth,” Falcon says enthusiastically, always quick with the response. Too quick in this scenario. Frog looks genuinely disappointed.
“Why would you two do something so foolish?”
“Horse and Bull returned last week and raved about their adventure,” I answer. “They said everything about it was life-changing, and most of the challenges are not very difficult…”
“… Horse and Bull are far superior to you two when it comes to survival… they’re stronger than you, too!” Frog yells, not wanting to lose two of his favorite customers. “I beg you not to visit Mother Earth!”
“Our first stop is to be the Michigan Challenge!”
“Have mercy, that’s a difficulty level three!”
“That’s also where we hope to find Tortoise and Toad…”
“… don’t die going after my children!” Frog yells. “You have no business!”
Instead of heeding his advice, Falcon and I storm outside and make our way toward Rent-A-Rocket.
***
Falcon inhales amethyst-hued smoke as we race through the cosmos. The trip to Mother Earth, an adventure of under 400 million miles, concludes after forty minutes of travel time. My sibling and I have never left Europa. A clawing sensation in my gut feels like anxiety. It probably is. Oh well.
“Is this a good idea, Eagle?” Falcon asks as if reading my mind. I take a purple puff before answering.
“Yes.”
“We could die…”
“… then why don’t we start with something easy such as the Rocky Mountain Challenge or the Smokey Mountain Challenge?”
“Horse and Bull would make fun of us for starting at a first-level difficulty…”
“… what about the Tornado Alley Challenge?”
Mother Earth is split between difficulty levels one through six, similar to the six faces of a singular die. The North American continent hosts a lot of easier challenges due to geographic location and a lack of jungles and treacherous wildlife — the Eurasian landmass is similar in difficulty. South America and Africa are mostly fourth- and fifth-level difficulties while Australia is the only sixth-level difficulty aside from the North Pole. This is mostly due to the koala-shark-crocodilian hybrids that inhabit the sunken island and tower at fifty feet in height.
“Horse and Bull started in Michigan, as did…”
“Falcon!” I shout. “If you say their names one more time I will slap the shit out of your face… do you hear me?”
“You could try, but you’ll never catch me.”
My sibling’s retort makes me smirk. “You’re quick, but I’m cunning and way stronger than you.”
“You’re not as smart as you think… and Frog called us weak.”
“We need each other to survive.”
“I was going to say Tortoise and Toad also started in Michigan.”
“I know,” I admit.
“Then why did you threaten to slap me?”
“Because this isn’t a competition, but a rescue mission.”
2. Falcon
Before the Dicefaced Bastard flew into Kalamazoo with his evil dragon of blue, the difficulty level of Michigan was only a three. Now, we must hide from the entity who rules this fallen planet as he searches for my twin sibling and me. How did we end up in such a mess after only five minutes? If you were to ask Eagle, he would blame me, but how was I supposed to know not to make friends with strangers?
“To survive the Michigan Challenge, you must locate the hidden chest of treasure, and steal a coin marked with the number three,” said the old man who helped us depart the rocket ship. Eagle, who can be a cranky asshole, was silent, but I thanked the elderly man. As we took in the surrounding world, I found myself disappointed with the drawl and depressing scene. It looked as if we had been dropped into the year 2020, according to our history books back on Europa. However, an explosion of massive proportions toppled most of the bland buildings.
“That lil’ twat is back for more, I see,” the elderly man muttered. He stepped away from Eagle and me, approaching the sudden blast. Eagle and I smirked with excitement. Even though we are here with the intent of rescuing Tortoise and Toad, we still anticipate what the Michigan Challenge may have in store for us.
“What are we doing here, folks?” an unfamiliar voice with a silvery tone asks. It comes from directly behind Eagle and me. “Have you all been playing with sorcery? What brings you to Mother Earth?”
We swivel on our heels and recognize a humanoid donning a jacket resembling a die of white with black studs. He wears an alabaster mask with five black dots in its center. Eagle and I never anticipated running into a Level Five Dicey Officer at a challenge with a difficulty of only three. A Dicey Officer governs an entire challenge, but we should not be facing a Fivehead.
Black flames emit from the Fivehead’s right hand like smoke, and milky steam, crackling with electricity, rises from his left. He generates enough energy to power our castle for at least a year. Thankfully, the elderly man returned, attacking the Fivehead with an electrical cloud that was ruby in hue. Together, Eagle and I made our escape. An intense minute later, the elderly man and the Dicey Officer fell, experiencing victory and defeat simultaneously. Who was that random old man? Why did he die for two strangers from almost 400 million miles away?
I tried controlling my tears but failed. Eagle threw a dirty hand over my mouth while grabbing my shoulder before pulling me under the shade of a nearby tree. We had heard of the woody plants, but seeing one in all its glory was truly divine. In the distance, a dragon with scales of sapphire and cobalt drew nearer, and sitting atop the mount was the Dicefaced Bastard himself. In place of his head are three dice with six sides, and his jacket of ermine is studded with golden nuggets and diamond gemstones. The dragon he rides is not an actual beast, but sentient blue clouds. Surely, the Michigan Challenge does not entail facing this planet’s conqueror, so why is the Dicefaced Bastard after Eagle and me?
to be continued…
