The Councilman
When Tera awoke, she was alone. Each component of her bodyshell needed a moment before they would respond to her commands, like she was a groggy organic human. She found herself in the seat of a plush, red armchair. The chair was placed at the center of what appeared to be a doorless chamber. Along the round walls were several bookshelves, all lined with dust jackets that she couldn’t make out in the dim light.
What happened? she wondered. Where am I?
She didn’t have to wait long before something came to answer her questions. With a sharp, digital tone, a form started to materialize in the chamber. It was made of millions of little lights, all arranged in such a careful manner to create the illusion of a solid object. Tera made no movement while she watched the hologram take shape before her.
A face started to define itself in the air above her, smirking down at her. It was an older man with a square jaw and a neat, short haircut. There wasn’t a hair on his chin, like every pore had been lasered off at birth. He looked like a decorated general, or someone who would be in charge of a congressional hearing. Cool blue eyes locked onto Tera’s optical receptors.
She recognized the face, but couldn’t quite put a name to it. Regardless, she didn’t like the smug look on his holographic face.
“Good morning, Ms. Alvarez,” the digital man said. “My name is Councilman Harring.”
Harring, she thought. The tyrant of Shell City in the flesh — so to speak.
“You know who I am, I see,” the councilman said. “That saves us from having to make introductions.”
“Oh, I know who you are,” Tera replied. “Now where am I?”
“You’re back home in Shell City,” Harring said. “On the Pavilion, in fact. You’re where you belong; you’re safe.”
“Being safe and being in Shell City are mutually exclusive,” the female bodyshell said, her voice seething with hostility. “You made sure of that.”
Harring smirked and shook his head. He found her statement amusing.
“And I’m sure it would be much better without me,” he said. “Is that right?”
“Right.”
“Well, regardless of your opinion of me, there is a certain level of order I’m required to uphold. I’m open to change, however.”
Tera cocked an artificial eyebrow. “What are you talking about?” she asked.
“I’ve made mistakes, like anyone else, Ms. Alvarez,” the councilman continued. “I’m always willing to improve on the way I’ve done things. We could work together, you and I, to make Shell City the utopia it was meant to be. What do you say?”
Even though they were mechanical constructs, Tera was able to convey her disdain through her optical lights. Her synthetic brow furrowed at the councilman’s suggestion.
“I’ve seen firsthand what you do to people you call friend,” she said. “Why should I trust you?”
“The mix-up with your identity was regrettable, Ms. Alvarez,” Councilman Harring started. “If we could have known the mistake we were making — but there’s no point dwelling on the past. I want to make it up to you. I want to give you your old life back — let everything return to the way it should be. I can give you whatever you’d like as my way of trying to make amends.”
“Whatever I like?” Tera asked. “What’s the catch?”
Councilman Harring couldn’t help but snicker a little at the suspicion in her face. He said, “The catch, my dear, is that I need information on the People’s Union. I need to know where your friends are located. In exchange for that, I can grant your wildest dreams.”
Déjà Vu
“Alright, so I tap three to bring out another Vampire Nighthawk,” Sharpe said, turning his land cards sideways and bringing out the creature. A holographic projection of the undead monster, crouched on the corner of a tower, appeared above the table. “Since you have no flying, I’m going to attack you with the two I already have out.”
The other projections swooped forward on their bat-like wings, rushing toward Ethan and his single holographic beast token. They froze mid-air, allowing Ethan time to respond.
“Not Garruk?” he asked.
“Nah,” Sharpe replied. “I’m not too afraid of your little beasty boys.”
Ethan sighed. “Alright, I’ll take the damage.”
With a hiss, the vampires flew up and pretended to take bites out of Ethan’s head. The number that floated just in front of his face, declaring his life total, went down another four points. He was left with only three. Another attack like that and it was game over.
“Your turn,” Sharpe said once his holographic vampires returned to their roosts.
Ethan turned all his forest cards so they were right-side up, then drew from his deck. His lips parted as he counted his mana, then he gasped a little with excitement. He pulled a card from his hand while his opponent eyed him suspiciously.
“I tap eight to cast Rude Awakening — with its entwine cost,” Ethan said, laying the card out for Sharpe to see. A green whirlwind of leaves was projected above the table, swirling over Ethan’s land cards. Sharpe lifted an eyebrow, silently asking Ethan to explain. “Until the end of the turn, all my forests are two-two creatures — and I get to untap them all.”
“Oh, no,” Sharpe said, realizing what was about to happen. “And then Garruk — ”
“Then I minus four Garruk to give all my creatures plus three plus three and trample until the end of the turn,” Ethan finished, smirking. With the sound of splintering bark, a dozen ent-like creatures grew in size, dominating Ethan’s half of the table with a mess of holographic green and brown. “I attack you with everything.”
“Shit,” Sharpe said, looking down at his hand. He pursed his lips and nodded a little as he accepted his defeat. “Good game.”
The holographic creatures all vanished. Ethan and Sharpe started scooping their cards up and putting them back into their decks. The victor couldn’t help but look down at the table with a smug smile.
“Man, when are you gonna
