James Dashner: The Eye of Minds

And then it all disappeared in a flash of light, replaced by spinning stars and a maniac’s laughter.

Michael’s body had been subjected to everything imaginable in terms of motion within the VirtNet, the Coffin always doing its trick to make things as realistic as possible. Roller coasters, diving airplanes, rockets being shot to other universes at light speed, more falls than he could ever count. But whatever happened to them in that moment felt like it was going to rip his body into a hundred pieces. His stomach turned and his brain split into ten kinds of pain. All the while, stars spun, and he couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. He lost all awareness of his surroundings, and he suddenly wondered if the Coffin would be able to handle the stress.

Abruptly, the craziness stopped. Michael’s insides clenched and he heaved, but nothing came out. He slowly regained his breath and looked around. All was frozen in darkness except for small lights winking in the distance.

There were two bodies next to him. He could barely see them—they weren’t much more than shadows—but he knew it was Bryson and Sarah. It had to be.

The lights began to swirl, then coalesce, moving more rapidly with each passing second—collecting immediately in front of them into a ball that grew larger and brighter, until Michael could barely look at it. It spun like a celestial body, pulsing with brilliance.

Michael and his friends—floating, frozen, silent—waited. Michael tried to speak but couldn’t. Tried to move but was paralyzed. Fear surged through every last inch of him. And then a voice spoke from the blinding ball of light, throbbing with each word. And it was terrifying.

“My name is Kaine,” it said. “And I see all.”

Whatever had paralyzed Michael didn’t release its hold on him.

The chilling voice continued, “Do you really think I’m not aware of VNS and their efforts to stop me? Can you imagine that I’d let anything happen within the VirtNet that doesn’t serve my interests? This is my domain now, and only the boldest, the strongest, and the smartest will be allowed to serve me in the end. VNS and players like you will be rendered utterly insignificant.”

Michael strained to break free from the force that held him.

“You have no idea the power I have,” Kaine’s voice said. “I’m warning all who try to stop me. You will not be warned twice.” The voice paused. “See what awaits if you don’t heed my words.”

The ball of spinning light vanished, replaced by a huge rectangle that looked like one of the screens on which they used to watch movies decades ago. Images flashed across the screen as it grew wider and taller, until it almost filled Michael’s entire vision.

It was as if he’d been inserted into the mind of a lunatic: A city of rubble, devoid of color, people huddling in the gutters.

Several slack-jawed men in a smoky room, seemingly waiting to be burned alive as flames licked at the edges of a door.

An old woman in a rocking chair, slowly raising a gun.

Two teenagers, laughing, pushing little kids off a high cliff and watching them fall.

A hospital full of frail, sickly patients, its door chained and locked from the outside. Several haggard-looking people splashing gasoline on its walls, one of them pulling out a lighter.

The horrifying scenes continued, flashing one after another, growing more unspeakable. Michael’s body trembled with the effort to break free. It was worse than any nightmare from which he’d ever struggled to wake.

Kaine’s voice spoke again, coming from everywhere at once.

“You know so little about what’s really going on. You are children in every sense of the word. All this and more awaits your mind if you continue.”

And then it ended. Everything vanished, and Michael found himself back inside his Coffin. But his throat hurt, and he realized he must’ve been screaming for quite some time.

Michael thought Tanya’s suicide had been bad, but this time he was barely able to pull himself out of the Coffin. He didn’t even bother putting on shorts. Trembling, sweating, he stumbled to his bed. A part of him still floated in Kaine’s version of a deep-space theater, surrounded by the horrors he’d predicted for Michael’s future. For his mind , whatever that meant.

It made his skin crawl. After a lifetime of seeking out wilder and wilder experiences, he’d had two run-ins inside the VirtNet that made him long for the days when everything had been fun—and not quite so wild. He didn’t care what the VNS was offering, what they’d threatened if he didn’t try to help. Seeing someone rip their Core out before his eyes, and Kaine’s vision of punishment should Michael seek him out, had made up Michael’s mind. What if the man could somehow reach him even in the Wake? Michael had never had that paralyzed, helpless feeling before, inside the VirtNet or out.

He didn’t know how he could possibly fulfill the challenge the VNS had given him. Shooting aliens, rescuing princesses from goblins, dealing with Lifeblood ’s day-to-day drama, then Lifting out of it all to do homework seemed just fine—and Bryson and Sarah would always be there in the Sleep to do it with him. He’d just go back to his normal, boring life. He never wanted to cross paths with Kaine again.

Firmly believing that, Michael was finally able to fall asleep.

The next morning, a dull and dreary Sunday to match Michael’s mood, Helga made him eat cornflakes for breakfast, claiming she had a headache. He wanted to tell her she had no idea what a headache was. To tell her every little detail of the fun time he’d had with Kaine the day before, ask her if she thought maybe that kind of experience sounded a little worse than a few hours of brooms, dusters, and laundry baskets.

But he liked Helga too much, and he was ashamed for even thinking it.

So instead he told her how sorry he was and ate three bowls of the cereal she’d set on the counter. Then he took a very long and very hot shower. Afterward, he felt a little better; the memory of his encounter with the cyber-terrorist started to fade, almost as if it’d all been a nasty nightmare.

The rest of the day was spent trying to forget it all. He jogged a few miles, took a long nap, ate a perfect lunch: sandwiches, chips, and pickles. He finally settled down in the Chair to have his inevitable conversation with Bryson and Sarah about the Kaine extravaganza. When the EarCuff flashed its screen in front of him, there were already messages from both of his friends on the Bulletin.

It looked like they were all in agreement. Games were games, but dealing with some psychotic man who was terrorizing people and couldn’t be handled by an organization as powerful as the VNS—well, Michael thought, that was a different story. His friends agreed that it’d been a nice offer, but… no thanks. Kaine was too dangerous, and he made the threats from the VNS seem cute. The programming feat he’d done to trap them was unimaginable.

When the question arose of whether Michael should let the VNS know about his and his friends’ decision, he figured not . He didn’t want to talk to those people. Hopefully they’d been bluffing. Maybe they really had offered the challenge to a slew of gamers, betting that some of them would continue. Michael didn’t plan to find out—he was a little scared to go back into the Sleep but figured Kaine would leave them alone as long as they didn’t start snooping. As long as they heeded his warning.

Michael and his friends ended their conversation by saying they’d hang out later in Lifeblood , go gaming, leave the whole affair behind.