LISA
"We're here," the Grand Sage announces, and my cramped muscles shriek with relief. We've been traveling at a snail's pace—his words, because we can't see outside—for what feels like forever. Morning? Night? It doesn't matter. We live in a box.
If it wasn't for a cleverly hidden toilet (which is gnome-sized—I 100% do not recommend using one as an adult human female), we would have been fucked. Even then, it was awkward. There's no privacy because there isn't room for it.
"We have a bit of a walk ahead of us," he continues, pressing buttons that enlarge our space, our little magitech Rubik's cube unfolding. The gadgets hidden away by the walls reappear in their organized glory of clutter.
One catches my eye; it looks like a small gun. He's shown it to me a few times. Pretty easy to use; point and shoot, but with a wallop that comes from its magitech origins.
