Prologue

Going Turbo

The short figure dashed through the dark bare land that was his game. He was wearing a ridiculously large sweatshirt, the hood pulled low over his face. He cut rather a silly and ungainly figure, as the sweatshirt trailed behind him, sort of like a woman's wedding dress, except it was a deep green color, and he had snatched it from an unsuspecting, um, dare I say: Guard?

He tripped over it and cursed softly, tugging it from around his feet. "Stupid sweatshirt," he hissed.

"You can't let him get away! Get him!" A guard shouted. "Come on, his legs are short, he can't get too far!"

"Unlike us, speed is in his code!" Another guard snapped in response.

"You bet speed is in my code," he whispered. He pulled something from his sleeve, a slim rectangle the color of an evening plum. Tripping, he stuffed it back in his sleeve. There it was! The train to the Game Central Station! All he had to do to be safe was get there. The short boy sped up, pulling up the sweatshirt. He looked back as he ran towards the train. He smiled with relief, "I'm almost out of this stupid game forever."

Just then, one of the guards made a huge leap at the boy, trying to grab him. He would have missed completely if the sweatshirt hadn't been so long. The guard's hands fell on the back hem, gaining hold on a large fistful of fabric, effectively stopping the boy. The sudden stop on the momentum caused the boy to trip, then smack into the ground painfully, ripping holes in his knees and elbows.

"Get off of me!" He yelled, aiming punches and kicks at the guard. The guard gripped the sweatshirt tighter, drawing the fabric closer, trying to reel in the boy. The boy wiggled his way out of the sweatshirt and ran down to the train. He bit his lip, trying to calm his nerves. "Almost safe, almost there," he muttered.

The boy had been wearing a fur collared coat under the sweatshirt. The fur was stained tan, but you could tell it was originally white. It had a badge on the shoulder that read 'air force' and a wing shaped pin on the right side of the chest. His black jeans had torn horribly, but the sweatshirt had protected his jacket. He had night black hair, and frightened dark eyes. Of course, those eyes were determined by his programming.

Finally, he was in the train. The game disappeared behind him, but the guards did not seem to want to give up, trying to find a way to get to him.

The boy could see the Game Central Station now, and his game was far behind him. He grinned, letting his hair blow back by the force of the train rushing through the tunnel. Finally he reached the station. He ran through the station, ignoring the beeping and the blue man writing tickets. He looked around for a game where he wouldn't be an adorable, useless, mess. There! Sugar Rush.

Vriska enjoyed breaking the law. She didn't care much for President Vanellope, and since Vanellope had become president, coding had been outlawed so that no one would ever mistakenly be a glitch again. That was stupid, if you were careful no one would ever become a glitch. Besides, coding was the only way to have fun around here.

Vriska passed her code. It was weird, seeing her own code, like seeing yourself in dream. But she'd seen it before, so it wasn't as weird as it could have been. The code floated around slowly like they were suspended in outer space. Vriska spotted a code box she hadn't seen before.

"Hey, look at this." Vriska murmured to herself. It sounded watery and echoey, as if both in a cave and an ocean at the same time. She drifted towards the code, as if she were swimming. She chuckled to herself, remembering something she'd heard a player singing.

"'Just keep swimming.' That's so dumb." Vriska smirked as she opened the code box. She smiled. Now time to ruin a life as delicately and expertly as possible. She glanced to the left, a familiar code box drifting in the thick air. Vriska didn't dare mess with that one anymore. That code belonged to a close friend, and he already had way too many issues to be messed with any longer. Vriska turned back to the open code in front of her. She moved around some properties. Ones and zeroes flashed behind the attributes she noticed. Vriska grabbed something.

"Perfect." Vriska grinned. She pulled at the piece of code, but unlike normally, it refused to come out. Vriska grunted, pulling harder. And suddenly, the code box shattered, pieces flying everywhere. One piece flew straight into Vriska's face, scratching her eyes horribly. Blood dripped down her face, and into her mouth, tasting strongly of licorice. She yelped in pain, collapsing into a ball. Breathing heavily, Vriska gathered the shattered pieces hurriedly into her red sweater, trying to get done as soon as possible. And then she swam off and touched down in the doorway. She ran through the tunnel, not giving much attention to the distracting light blue tubes running along the walls. Vriska slammed into a boy.

"Watch it!" Vriska snapped, and hurriedly picked up the pieces she'd dropped. And then she ran off again, forgetting one small piece, and leaving the boy standing in the doorway, wondering what all of that was about. The boy picked up the piece of code she had dropped.

"Hey, you dropped-" The boy looked down the tunnel, but the girl was long gone. Uselessly, he completed his sentence, "-this."

The boy padded timidly down the hall, holding his code tightly in one hand, and the piece of code the strange girl had dropped in the other. Light blue tubes ran down the sides of the tunnel, giving off an eerie blue light. He padded softly down into the code room. The rectangular pieces of code floated around like they were on a space mission. Wires tethered down the code, and they swung to and fro like charmed snakes. He floated to a large box labeled "PLAYERS". Code squares swung around the box, their wires threatening to entangle him. One wire floated off by itself. He grabbed it and held up his code square, preparing to snap it in.

He gripped the small, broken piece of code the girl had dropped tighter. Looking at it sadly, he cursed softly and snapped it onto the wire instead. This wire probably had been that piece of code's to begin with.

"I need a free wire," he whispered. "If I were the, whatever rules this place, where would I keep my spare wires?" He twisted around, trying to spot something, anything, that could have wires. Preferably a cabinet labeled "Spare Wires" in bold lettering.

Instead, a wire floated past, like some weird space alien. His hand shot out and snatched it from the air. "Convenient!" He exclaimed, then looked around warily. "A little too convenient." He did a full survey of the room, but noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Well, except there was a boy adding himself to the code. But other than that, nothing.

He snapped in his code, and felt the change immediately. He dissolved into 1 and 0 for a second, then rematerialized. His build changed; stronger, sturdier, less fragile. The holes in his jeans had been repaired, and they had changed from denim blue to dark black. His eyes lost their frightened look, replaced by a determined glimmer. On his black shirt an icon of a lemon shimmered into view, with the words "Lemon Drop" in yellow beneath. His jeans had knee patches on them in the shape of lemons. His design changed, but only slightly, the details of his code shifting to format this game.

Excitedly, he padded out of the room, down several halls, and snuck out of... what looked like to be a palace.

Standing on a cliff edge, he looked out over the quiet, sleeping game. Candy mountains, soda rivers, and other sugary landscapes spread out like a candy store tapestry beneath. He smiled softly and stared down at the land, a wind tugging at his dark hair. "Get ready," he whispered. "Because I'm coming."