Riko crept along, light as a feather on those floating squares. The area buzzed with a dim nothingness and tasted faintly like static. Blue static lines cut across the horizon looked just like ribs over a dark ocean. He had to go forward; a calling pulled at him. It sounded a lot like Luna. Like her voice had been stretched and warped and played at a snail's speed, he could pick out cadence and familiar phrases, so he kept going.
Luuu...naaa... the voice crooned ahead, her voice drawn so long she sounded just like ribbons hung in the air.
Riko swallowed hard. His right arm felt faintly hot - a leftover reminder of 'the system' - frail, glitching. He needed to chill. Voices in weird places happened, he told himself. It was a zone and he should think logically. But it sounded so human it stripped bare all reasoning. He followed.
A path showed like a suggestion, almost - blocks arranged in a corridor between these tall blocks of messed-up code. As he walked, the data-blocks shifted, a helpful hand guiding him deeper into this maze. That guiding made the hairs on his neck prick – this place listened to him? Or someone controlled him? Whatever it was, he hated it. He was on edge.
Luuuu— the voice sang once more, so close that Riko heart beat fast. It echoed like a broken song, but he willed himself to slow down, to think and count to keep himself stable. One, two, three. His shoes kept count, and the tiles narrowed. Shadows - if you could even call them that - moved aside. He walked into a short tunnel of blocks that curved to the left.
It was cool inside, but there was no wind. Nothing made sense at all. But the tunnel had edges, sharp and precise, and the pixels lined with thread. The voice came from around the bend. It echoed like a glitch.
—are you okay? it looped, soft, whispery, like someone buried in pillows. Luna would say something like that. She had said it recently, fast, frantic; now it was dragged long on purpose. He sped up.
The sides closed in, so close he could taste it, like walking with someone breathing down your neck. He could almost see Luna if he strained himself. He felt the blocks refract her voice into a thousand mirrors. His heartbeat quickened, calmed, then quickened again.
Luna? he called out, and his voice was swallowed with darkness. The voice responded instantly with the same slow loop, —are you okay?—are you okay?—are you okay? as if it had been recorded and played on loop.
Riko's skin crawled. He reached to touch the tiles. It felt cool. He pressed and it gave a fraction like it was breathing. The tile shifted, spinning slightly, creating a new angle for him. He stepped again and it did the same, walking on a game board.
He rounded the corner and the voice turned into a chorus. —are you okay?—are you okay?—are you okay?
Riko laughed - half in anger, half in terror. Seriously? he said. This isn't right.
Still, he kept going.
The tiles moved, guiding him onward down short routes and dead ends. Sometimes it would echo from above. Sometimes from below. Most of the time, it was right ahead. Each time it adjusted, his skin tightened, and he moved. Stubbornly, he went on. He wanted to find out who was doing this. Was this a trap, a test, or something else?
The tiles formed into stairs leading to a dome of light. He climbed without thinking. At the top, the tiles circled an empty space. The voice came together. —I can hear you— it echoed, not the previous phrase, yet still Luna's voice. It sounded like her phone had fallen and was looping a message. The humor dried up as the tiles rippled beneath him.
He kept going. He followed the voice into a corridor of mirrors - data shards that showed bits and pieces of himself - worry etched on his brow, static on his sleeve, his eyes wide. The reflections blinked slower than he did. Each mirror subtitled the message.
—are you okay? the glass mouthed, and the words glitched with mistakes. **ar e you ok ay**
Riko resisted the urge to shout. He was tripping himself up and adrenaline had made him awkward. He moved faster now. It was a slow burn. The voice grew. He was so close. The sides grew ever tighter, yet at the end, there was a blank space and nothing else.
He smelled nothing, but the tiles below tasted like stale digital dust. He rounded the last bend, expecting movement, a silhouette, a real voice.
But instead - emptiness.
The tiles in front lined up like a frozen stage set. Silence and nothingness waited just ahead.
Riko stopped dead. His knees cracked. And the voice, at once, ended. It was cut off like a switch. The loop broke, as sharp and sudden as when power is cut.
He stood there, panting. Sweat ran down his face. And the tiles pulsed softly, immune to him.
He listened.
No one but the static lines on the horizon and a soft groan from a block behind.
Riko slowly moved his head side to side, studying the corridor. His nervous face starred back in the mirrors, the subtitles a mess of random letters. Then the screens smoothed over, as if sheepish.
Hello? he called, less sure. His voice drifted away. No reply.
Hesitantly, he stuck his foot forward, testing where the voice had told him to come. The tiles clicked as they shifted. The corridor closed behind him.
He started, and his fingers curled. He looked down for something, a sign, maybe a discarded jacket or phone. But it was a lie. Only smooth tile and a shimmer where the voice had pulsed.
Silence pressed down, heavy and expectant.
Again he called, his throat tight. Luna? Answer!
Instead came an echo, reversed and faint. yako—u? era—
His stomach fell. He walked to where the voice was strongest and his heart hammered. He sees no one there as he rounded the next corner.