Jackslov the Brave banked her g-tek wings at mach 8 and broke the atmosphere, the morning sun filtering weakly through the tachyon trails of the two pirates she was pursuing. Quickly she pulled up her TargetCon; both were Leonis, and above her the constellation of Ursida could be seen. Good. They would both be cowardly today.

She was dimly aware of her actual self, at the other end of a vapourwave conduit, in the post-singularity imaginationscape she called home. But perhaps this was her home, perhaps this was her real life, hunting pirates in her favourite neural-world. Perhaps she really was Jackslov the Brave. Perhaps Microscopic Reflective Cyan Figure was the work of fiction after all.

The controls to the g-tek jerked in her hands, pushing involuntarily forward. Startled, she pulled back hard, but to no use - they were rigid. A bug? In front of her a mountain ridge was approaching rapidly but there was no time - she cursed and resolved to load from one of her backups as soon as she was booted out…

But then a message popped up in the centre of her vision.

“SORRY, BUDDY. GONNA NEED THAT BODY.
HOPE YOU LIKE IT HERE.
I DON’T THINK YOU’RE GONNA BE HERE A LONG TIME.

LEMON.”

A half second to read, no time to understand; and then, the rocks, thunder, fire, and nothing.

magnificent!

Nice work