A post in the Grand Battle over on WWN.

~

Engraved stone unwound, pillars pinched and smoothed out into stalagtites, and as Archaela spoke Sine realised everything she had done had been discarded and forgotten and destroyed. She blinked; the world shifted, all light fled, and she was alone. An underground river burbled in the dark. From the way it echoed, the cavern she now stood in was no small thing. It occurred to her how incredibly calm she felt a moment before the strength left her legs and she collapsed like a dropped doll and lay in the dirt shivering.

Well. Well done, murmured a voice in her head. If this was a simulation designed to challenge and punish you, which I assure you it isn’t, but if it was it’s clear now that it is entirely inadequate; if anything it appears to be encouraging you. Don’t you find that peculiar?

Sine cupped her ears. The voice went on.

No, I suppose not. You aren’t one for self-reflection, are you.

‘Shut up.’

And I would appreciate it, Commander—oh, excuse me! Former Commander—I’d appreciate it if you would please stop telling me to shut up. Invidia hesitated. By the way, you’ve lost a lot of blood. The scenario will not reset. You will not awake at the last instant. If you don't receive medical attention very soon, you will first go into shock, and then you will die.

Then again, it added after a pause, perhaps you deserve it.

Sine ignored the voice. She didn't know how long she lay there, but eventually she stopped shivering. The dirt and the stone was cool. She let out a slow, unsteady breath, and then opened her eye. Perfect blackness greeted her. She blinked, subvocalising. Her ocular overlay switched to night vision.

For an instant, as the image coalesced and her vision adjusted, she saw walls of painted metal and polished, uniform floors. Her heart jumped. She scrambled to her feet.

By the time she was standing only stone was there.

Is something the matter, Sine? Your heart rate just jumped.

Silence. Her gaze darted about the room, searching. The river whispered. Its surface was impenetrable and writhing and dark. Her boots scuffed dirt and small loose rocks as she turned and left the cavern mouth. Tunnels branched off in every direction. Down one passage distant light glimmered, drained of colour by her night vision. ‘Everything is under control,’ she muttered.

But at the back of her mind, bubbling up through the smothered pain and the confusion and the anger, a little frightened thought said: Yes.