Early in the morning, the skies went black.
"Citizens of Simulation 45y," Zinyak's voice boomed, "You are disappointing me."
Amidst the black, the shape of a large alien became clear, sitting forward, a chalice in his hand. "I have given you ample opportunity to behave," he said. "I am not unreasonable. But since it appears a prison of peace will not keep you, I must introduce more stringent measures. Behave peacefully, and you will lack for none. Continue this immature, destructive behavior, and I will be forced to make this even worse, until you obey."
He cleared his throat.
"Now, for an excerpt from the Scottish Play..."
That went on for another hour.
When it ended, the skies didn't clear. They remained black like the night. Clouds rolled in, and rain descended on the town. Buildings seemed to stretch and reach for it, becoming taller, even though nothing changed on the inside. Hunters poured onto the streets, shaped like cartoon dogs. Ordering coffee became markedly more difficult, and the Mooby Calf had grown a mind of its own.
But thanks to the efforts of others outside the simulation, the captives were now
not without means...
[[ establishy! ]]