I slump on a stool, flux sparking. "So, we're prisoners deluxe now? Cosmic house arrest?"
Fiona paces, staff tapping. "We were adventurers! Now we're what—elder's pets?"
Dmitri grunts, eyes sharp. "Pets with a leash. We need a plan."
The door hisses, and Varkis strides in, his dark metal armor glinting like a polished dumbbell. "Enough moping," he says, voice sharp via translator. "I'm taking you to your new home."
I blink. "New home? Not a cell?"
Varkis's optics flicker—amusement? "The elder's generous. Follow." He taps his wrist, and we teleport, bracelets humming with elder's chips. We land in a sleek living area, walls pulsing with holo-panels, space windows framing a starry void. Three bedrooms branch off, each with glowing beds; a living room with plush seats hums softly; a kitchen sparkles with synth-food dispensers; a massive training room looms, decked with holo-targets and simulated terrain.
"Blimey!" I exclaim, spinning. "This is a sci-fi penthouse! Are we dead or VIPs?"
Fiona's jaw drops, staff glowing. "This beats Unit 58. Look at that kitchen!"
Dmitri smirks, poking a holo-panel. "Training room's bigger than my old gym. Not bad for prisoners."
Varkis gestures, armor clanking. "The elder modified this for you. You're in his section—safe. Everyone nearby works for him, including me. I'm close." He points to a dispenser. "Food, drink—unlimited. Request anything."
I grin, flexing. "Unlimited? I'm ordering cosmic protein shakes!"
Fiona laughs, braid bouncing. "And pizza. Dublin style."
Dmitri's eyes glint. "Vodka. Real stuff, not synth."
Varkis's optics narrow. "Focus. You're weak—D-rank. Train daily in that room until you're A-rank at least. Trainers will come every day. Missions will be sparse until you're stronger."
I raise an eyebrow. "A-rank? That's like going from push-ups to lifting starships!"
Fiona twirls her staff. "Daily training? My flux is ready to level up."
Dmitri's spear glints. "A-rank or bust. I'll burn through it."
Varkis nods. "The elder says when you hit A-rank, he'll re-register you with the Guild—assumed names, hidden faces. No one can know you're alive."
I blink. "Wait, we're dead? Like, officially?"
Varkis's voice is flat. "Guild records list you as dead from the volcanic mission. Keeps the secret safe."
Fiona's eyes widen. "Dead?" Dmitri chuckles darkly. "Great. We're ghosts with fancy digs."
I laugh, nervous. "Coach Bounce, the cosmic zombie! Can we at least haunt the Guild?"
Varkis shakes his head. "No Guild. No Habitat-382. You stay here, train, work for the elder." He turns to leave. "Settle in. Trainers start tomorrow." The door hisses shut.
I flop onto a plush seat, flux sparking. "Well, mates, we're officially deceased. New life, new crib."
Fiona explores the kitchen, staff propped. "This dispenser's got everything! -tacos, anyone?"
I grin, joining her. "Tacos? You're speaking my language. Let's test this thing."
Dmitri pokes a bedroom, shield flickering. "Beds float. This is too fancy for prisoners."
I laugh, punching a holo-panel—it shifts to a gym layout. "Look at this training room! It's like my old gym, but with laser targets!"
Fiona smirks, dispensing a glowing drink. "To our new life—ghosts with benefits."
Dmitri grabs a synth-steak, smirking. "Benefits? We're caged birds with shiny feathers."
I sip a fizzing drink, earth energy tingling. "Caged, sure, but A-rank's the goal. We train, we get strong, we get answers."
Fiona nods, eyes sharp. "The elder's hiding something. A-rank gives us leverage."
Dmitri cuts his steak, grim. "He's using us. We use him back—get strong, get out."
I raise my glass. "To A-rank and freedom, Ramblers!"
Fiona clinks, braid swaying. "To kicking cosmic butt!"
Dmitri grunts, clinking. "To breaking chains."
We laugh, the living room warm with banter, but the weight of "dead" lingers. Fiona's eyes meet mine, sparking more than flux. "What's the first training move, Coach Bounce?"
I wink. "Burpees with earth energy. You in?"
She laughs. "Only if you keep up."
Dmitri smirks. "Lovebirds training montage? I'll watch."
My bracelet pings: New home logged. Query: Ghost adventurer badge? "Cheeky," I mutter, but we settle in, joking over tacos, plotting our A-rank grind. I'm Coach Bounce, declared dead, living in a sci-fi penthouse, with a team tighter than ever, ready to train hard and unravel the elder's game in this cosmic jail.