They had finally made it.
John heard footsteps behind him and knew his friends were approaching, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. They were all weary and bloodied from the final fight, tired, but alive, and he could hardly believe it.
Now, the ultimate reward was right in front of him.
He didn't look back, because he knew if he looked back now, if he saw Jade or Dave or Karkat, he would never be able to take this risk. They had no idea what was waiting for them on the other side.
But there was nothing left for them here.
John was the leader, and it was his time to step forward. As he opened the door, he had to shut his eyes against a blindingly bright light, but he still forced himself to take another step, and another –
And then the light was gone.
The next thing John is conscious of, he is sitting down. He opens his eyes, and finds himself in a small and very plain room, which has a worrying number of visible doors – that is, zero.
He is sat next to a table, and opposite from him sit two people. The one John notices first is a Mysterious Man, who is most notable for wearing a suit the exact colour of his hair. Both the hair and the suit are the shade John still thinks of as Karkat gray, in spite of the fact Karkat stopped typing in gray after everything which happened in the 69 Ruins. Next to the man is his Smiling Companion – a blonde woman, with deep red lipstick to match her dress.
John smiles back at her. The Mysterious Man does not smile, but he nods at John.
MM: Hello, John.
JE: hello.
The Smiling Companion does not speak; it appears she is not only Smiling, but Silent.
MM: We were wondering if you would mind giving us your feedback on the game you have just played.
The Smiling Companion picks up a pen, and John notices she is holding a clipboard in front of her. As she places the pen to the paper, she is still watching him, and her smile does not move.
The option of refusing, while implied to exist in theoretical form, does not seem to be present.
JE: uh... i guess i could...
MM: I'm sure you understand, this feedback is vital to the development of the game and the positive experience of future players. It won't take much of your time, and I'm sure you're in a hurry to get back.
JE: about that –
MM: Now, first of all, let's talk about the graphics.
Graphics?
JE: graphics?
MM: Yes, what did you think of them?
JE: they were... good?
SC begins writing, finally looking down at the paper in front of her. This helps John to relax a little, but he still knows that he is the centre of attention in this room.
MM: Did you find the symbolic representations easy to understand?
JE: ...yes?
MM: What about the cut-scenes? Were they realistic enough?
JE: yeah, i guess. uh, very realistic.
MM frowns, and John gets the impression that, even though he was asked for his opinion, he is giving the wrong answers.
MM: Let's move on. What did you think of the music?
JE: the music was awesome!
John speaks the truth before he even has to think about it – the music was undeniably cool. MM looks appeased.
MM: There weren't any tracks you disliked?
JE: well, maybe a couple...
The questions continue, covering everything from The Windy Thing (brilliant!) to the God Tier outfits (mine was amazing! but dave's hood was a little dorky...) to the length of the game (three years. Yes, what did you think of it? ...it was a little long.)
By the time they reach the intuitivity of the ectobiology controls (i just kept pushing the button?) John is getting a little restless.
MM: I believe that wraps up the standard questions...
Yay!
MM: ...but there were a few more things I wished to discuss with you.
John stifles a groan.
MM: As you understand, this is an early release in the game, and you may have encountered some bugs which are still in the process of being ironed out...
JE: like jack?
MM furrows his forehead.
MM: Precisely. However, your combined sessions also generated several new features unexpectedly.
They did?
MM: What did you think of the dream bubbles? Is the feature worth continuing?
JE: yes!
John never spent much time there, but he likes knowing that everyone who died in the game is still happy somewhere – and some of the trolls stayed behind. They can't get rid of the dream bubbles now.
MM nods, and SC makes a note.
MM: I shall recommend the code be adapted into the next release. Now, there was also the matter of Lord English...
John goes a little pale.
JE: no, that's a bug. you can get rid of that one.
MM: Really? Alright. Although the code seems remarkably persistent...
John doesn't want to think too hard about that.
MM: Okay, that's everything.
SC makes a small coughing noise, and MM gestures for her to speak.
SC: Do you wish to receive a complimentary copy of the game when the final version is released?
John takes time to think about this – about 0.3 seconds, to be precise.
JE: no!
SC looks slightly taken aback, but MM smiles at John for the first time.
MM: Thank you very much for participating in the Initial Beta Testing of Sburb. Have a pleasant life.
Is that all? John blinks –
– and when he opens his eyes again he is lying on a familiar bed, staring at a ceiling he has not seen in far too long.
He scrambles upright. This is definitely his old room, and he's still in his God Hood and – he doesn't know what to do first.
After a moment's pause, he reaches for his phone, just as a text alert sounds.
tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB]
TT: John?
EB: rose!
EB: i can't believe we made it!
He checks his list of contacts. His chumroll is a full house – his old friends, the trolls, the kids from the alternate Earth, everyone is online.
TT: I suspect there's something you want to ask me about.
EB: actually, yes!
EB: i had this really weird dream?
EB: except i don't think it was a dream!
TT: I expected as much.
He nearly drops his phone.
EB: you had it too?
EB: what do you think they meant by
He hasn't finished typing the message when Rose's reply sounds.
TT: John, we have had our lives returned to us. The game is over.
TT: For the sake of all our sanity, I suggest we pretend that nothing happened.
For a moment, John thinks of arguing – but then his nostrils register the scent of baking drifting up from the kitchen, and all his worries are forgotten.