Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1) by Grayson Sinclair (poetry books to read TXT) 📗

There were over a dozen glass tubes in the center of the room, large enough for a full-grown man. Wires and the like sprouted out the top and back, snaking down under the floor. Every one of them was open, waiting. Expectant.

Three technicians brought us all to the side and began going through some preparations. My heart leapt into my throat as my arms were swabbed with alcohol. The sound of rubber gloves snapping sent childish fear spiking through me.

“What’s going on?” one of the other refugees asked, his voice panicked.

The others voiced similar concerns all the while I tried to keep my cool. I put on a brave face for Sophia, but I was shaking with nerves. The scientist in charge looked up from his preparations. He saw the looks of fear on our faces and wisely decided to calm us down.

He was a tall man in a crisp, tailored three-piece suit under a lab coat. Middle-aged with deep-set eyes and salt and pepper hair that gave him a roguish appearance. He cleared his throat and spoke, finally letting us in on what the hell was going on. He had a loud, clear voice that echoed in the quiet room, but he forgot his audience and began with a string of words that sounded either incredibly technical or completely made up.

He stopped speaking, mumbling a curse under his breath, and started over.

“Forgive me, I forgot who I was talking to. Welcome to the Ouroboros Project. I’m sure you’re all curious as to why you’re here,” he said, coming over to us. “I won’t bog you down with the details since you’d need to be a neuroscientist to grasp the full implications of the technology at hand. But to simplify things, we’ve broken new ground in virtual reality development, and we believe we’ve finally cracked the code to digital immortality.”

A round of gasps echoed through the room, mine included. So that’s what this is about. Saving the world, my ass. I didn’t agree with virtual reality, or so-called digital immortality. It was nothing but cowardice. Running away while the ghouls ravage the world topside.

Whatever, not my fucking problem anymore. I’ve got clean clothes and food. That’s probably the best I can hope for at this point.

The man droned on for a bit more, trying to wow us with his words about how they made the discovery, but I tuned him out. I didn’t care about any of it.

Sophia was next to me, wide-eyed at his speech, excitement building in her eyes. I smiled down at her, and she caught me looking at her because she tilted her head, smiled, and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

When the man was done with his speech, he got straight to the point. “The reason why you’re here is quite simple. We need volunteers who are willing to have their minds scanned. We need copious amounts of data to help build realistic virtual worlds, and we can’t do it without your help.”

I could tell from the tone in the man’s voice that it was nothing but fluff and bullshit. He was asking us, but it was clear that we didn’t have a choice in the matter. I shifted to look at the door we’d entered. A keyless lock kept us from leaving, and the man carried a pistol under his lab coat. The others are too wrapped up in the daydream he painted for them. They’ve been given a modicum of hope, and they’re clinging to it.

I didn’t trust any of them, but I had no choice but to go along with it. I wasn’t going to abandon Sophia and leave her alone. As the man finished speaking, he asked everyone who was willing to volunteer to step forward, and everyone but me stepped without a second’s hesitation. The man gave me a once over, his eyes staring at me unblinking till I relented and followed suit.

“Excellent. Then I will leave you all in the capable hands of the technicians,” he said as he departed, swiping a keycard to exit the room.

The technicians led us over to each of the tanks and started hooking us into them. The metal was cold against my skin, and it took them almost an hour to strap all of us in. They slid several needles into my arms and injected me with something that made me sleep and dream.

I dreamed deeply, but it wasn’t like any other dream I’d ever experienced before. It was too bright and colorful. I tasted things that lingered on the tip of my tongue, half-remembered sights, and smells of my childhood. It got increasingly vivid until I thought I was reliving my old life.

For a too-brief time, I got to see my family again, got to watch Micah grow up again, see his crooked teeth and caramel eyes wide as he begged me to play with him, repeatedly. It made whatever shady deal I’d struck worthwhile; I’d have done anything to stay like that forever.

I was jolted out of my dreams by intense pain. As if a rod of molten metal had been shoved into my skull. My eyes flew open, and I screamed till my voice tore. The pain dulled by a fraction as more painkillers entered my system.

When I could focus my eyes, outside the glass, a technician stared at me with wide and panicked eyes. He was mashing a button on the console next to him as hard as he could, tapping it like it would win him a prize, all while flooding my system with more drugs, which made my eyes heavy.

“What did you do?”

“Uh…uh, you weren’t supposed to wake up for that.”

“What—what did you do?” I repeated.

“We attached a neural transmitter to your brain stem. It’s to help ease the burden of information collected from the