The alien pushed me over to a couch, prompting me to sit down. The screen was not directly in front of me, with its wide range of colours drilling into my eyes.
"Now, use that stick to go through the menu." I nervously complied, wiggling the indicated part of the controller. Amazingly, the screen responded by lighting up another box of text that was displayed. Instead of selecting one that read "options", it was now focused on "play".
"Yeah, pick that one." I looked back at the creature, who sat unresponsive for a few seconds before pointing at a particular button on the controller. Pushing this resulted in a new window entirely showing up.
The next few moments were bizarre; the alien would feverishly try to explain the rules of this game to me, which buttons I should press for the character on screen to do specific actions, the rules that I needed to abide by to "win", and tips and tricks that would often enhance my gameplay. I only partially absorbed it throughout the session, but I got better.
"No, no," the alien, whose name was revealed to be Teyna, would shout. "Yes, yes, go that way! Now there!" The rules of the game in question turned out to be quite simple: first, you would "spawn" with a weapon, then you would control your character to defeat everyone that stood in your way. While the concept was easy to grasp, however, I found myself struggling with intricate techniques.
"You did it!" Teyna's volume had increased at least threefold over the course of the game. "Good job, er, what was your name again?"
I set down the controller after wiping away the sweat that had seemed to accumulate. "Feste. And... thanks for letting me play. I enjoyed that, as paradoxical as it might seem." I do admit that several times I had cried out at the enemy "bots" that I had encountered.
"Don't sweat it," Teyna grinned. "See you later! If you actually do want to play again sometime, that is."
One farewell later, I made my way back towards the elevator. Enough time had passed for me to assume that the operation was now ready, that the professional my teacher had called had arrived.
As expected, he was present in the hotel lobby. He stood up the second he saw me, looking down at another guest that accompanied him. A significant amount of distance was between us, so I had to wait until the two approached to get a better look.
The visitor had a black robe on. Their face was flat and regular, with features that would have led me to guess that they were an ordinary person.
"Ah, Feste," my teacher greeted. "We've been waiting for you. This is Windell, the man that I had referenced earlier." He looked around at the people that were either passing by or sitting idly. "Now, I suppose we should go to another room. I don't think a janitor's closet is going to be enough."
After a small pause and some thought, my teacher began to lead the two of us down some hallways. We then ducked into a room that seemed sparsely used. "Here should be good enough. Windell, I'll ensure that nobody interferes with your progress."
My teacher ducked out of the room and Windell finally began to speak for the first time. His voice was smooth, deep and quiet. "Sit down, please." I sat on the cracked, concrete floor. "Now, stay still."
Windell placed his hands over my head and closed his eyes. I then felt a mild tingling sensation throughout my brain, and he began to grunt softly. Thinking that moving might cause some sort of interference, I also closed my eyes in the hopes that it would make the process smoother.