A Game of Worlds and Chaos

Tempest Briar flinched as one of the assistants applied this… gel to his forehead. “What are you doing?”

Pel’s brow wrinkled as he read the question. “What is the capital of Poland? That’s not even a real place, is it? Who is Po and why is there a land named after them?”

Tempest Briar blinked. “Going to have to agree with him here. That’s not a real place. There’s no Poland.”

The lab-coat person had no reaction. They simply said, "Pull down the lever to 15 volts."

Pel looked at the lever. Next to the marking of 15 volts were the words, "slight shock." He backed away from it, shaking his head. "I... I don't..." But then the memory of the store returned, and how the man had said they needed hours of experimentation for everything around here, and logic won out. Pel gulped in a breath of air desperately. "Tempest Briar... I'm really sorry. If it hurts too much, just tell me, and we'll-- we'll get out of here. Somehow."

Then he pulled the lever to the mark.

Tempest Briar flinched as… something just flashed through them. “What was that? What did you just do?”

It had hurt. Not awfully, but still. Enough to be offensive.

"This is supposed to be a slight shock." Pel shifted from foot to foot, feeling uneasy.

The person nodded. "Good. On to the next one."

Pel took a deep breath. "What is the answer to thirteen times sixteen?"

Tempest Briar flushed. “I’m uh… poor. I kind of grew up homeless. Never went to school. So, I have… no idea.”

Pel looked at the lab coat person frantically, but they only gestured towards the lever. "30 volts this time."

"No-- but-- wait, can I answer instead?" Pel asked, already starting the multiplication in his mind.

Tempest Briar braced himself for the feeling. "Just do it, Pel. It's fine. Bully the poor kid for not knowing."

"208," Pel blurted out. "The answer is 208."

The experimenter shook their head. "30 volts."

Pel tried to glare at them, but their unchanging, impassive expression gave him the creeps. He shuddered, then stiffly lowered the lever again, watching his arm as if it wasn't a part of him.

That. That hurt slightly worse. Tempest Briar froze as it shot through them. Anything to prevent Pel from feeling bad.

"That... wasn't bad. Barely felt it."

"Are you sure?" Pel frowned worriedly. He'd never been shocked before, but he imagined it was quite unpleasant.

"Next question," the experimenter intoned.

Pel frowned deeper and flipped to the next card. "The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?"

Tempest Briar snorted. "That's easy. Footsteps." She mimed walking with her hands.

Pel breathed out a sigh of relief.

His only response from the person was, “Next card.”

“When will this end?” Pel asked. “How many cards do we have to do?”

Tempest Briar yawned. "The more cards we do, the more money we make, Pel."