Otkroveniye Complex // Book 1 of the Takaryev Series

Chapter 10

Ravil would admit that Transformice was a pretty fun game, albeit a bit confusing at first. The object of the game was to complete obstacle courses in order to get cheese, and then bring said cheese back to the mouse hole (you played the entire game as a mouse).  

Ravil was currently on a Skype call with Artem, who had his webcam on. Turns out, Artem was a guy just a year older than Ravil, with icy blue eyes and dark brown hair that was currently tied back in a messy ponytail. His skin was a tad bit darker than Ravil's (and Ravil was ridiculously pale, mind you) and his voice was a bit rough, though oddly emotional. 

"Frick, I missed the jump," Ravil said, watching as his mouse fell a few pixels short of a platform and dropped off the screen. 

"Shame," Artem said, just as he steered his mouse to the cheese. 

"I actually like this game, though," Ravil said, thinking out loud while waiting for his mouse to respawn. "It's a nice change from Warcraft." 

"I'm glad you like it." Artem replied. "And you're not too shabby for a beginner." 

When Ravil didn't reply, and his mouse sat idle as the next round started, Artem started to get worried. 

On the other end of the line, Ravil thought he was going to die. His brain was pounding and throbbing against the inner wall of his skull (or at least that's what it felt like), and his fingers fumbled for the keyboard but he never quite reached it. Colors swam and blended, then disappeared altogether. 

He tried to stand up, but his knees buckled and he fell, blacking out before he hit the floor. 

Artem heard a thump. 

"Ravil?" he asked, his voice trembling. 

Still no reply. 

"Ravil! Ravil!" He was screaming into his microphone now, and he knew Ravil could hear it to some extent. Surely he was still wearing his headphones? 

Artem cursed beneath his breath and shouted again. "Ravil! Ravil, come back!"