Stunned, Colt stared in disbelief at the computer monitor before him. What was this? A trick? He looked around his room, half-expecting to see a dozen cameras or so all filming his reaction, but his room was empty save for himself. He turned his attention back to Uriel Septim.

"I know this must come as a great shock to you, young Colt, but heed my words carefully...for our worlds are both in grave danger and their fate relies on your courage and cooperation."

Colt stared again at the screen, speechless with awe.

"Colt?" asked Septim again, waving one hand in front of the screen once more.

"This...game...is...AWESOME!!" Colt yelled, a massive grin spreading across his face. "Voice recognition? Is that what this is? I hadn't heard about that! This is amazing! I wonder how it knows my name, though."

"Colt?"

Colt laughed, then pretended to be serious. "Yes, your highness? Do I call you that? Your highness?" Colt fell into a low bow in front of the computer monitor, moving his chair away in the process so that he could better reach the ground with his forehead and outstretched arms.

"I'm glad to see you like that game," his mother chirped as she walked past his room with an armload of laundry.

"This is not a game, young man! This is a matter of earnest importance! Get up, please...I don't have much longer before I'm gone from this world."

This time, hearing honest emotion in the voice of Patrick Stewart, Colt began to question what was happening. After all, why had the other characters in the game stopped moving all at the same time, except for Septim? All the others were frozen and the screen was awash in an orange haze that covered everything and everyone on the screen aside from Septim himself. Slowly, Colt raised his head and gazed quizzically at the tiny figure on the screen.

"If this isn't a game," he started, not sure what to feel anymore. "...and if you know my name, and all this is true...how can I believe you?"

Septim smiled, reaching a hand toward Colt. Amazingly, it bowed out the glass before popping through as if the glass were the skin on the surface of a lake. Startled, Colt fell backward.

"Oh my god...this is just like The Ring!"

Ignoring him, Septim went on with his speech. "Take my hand, Colt. You will trust me because you have to. Your life depends on it. The stars were right. This is the day...Gods give me strength."

Hesitation in his movements, Colt reached out to take hold of the Emperor's hand. When it seemed as if he would back down and not grasp Septim's hand, the Emperor lurched forward and yanked Colt toward the computer monitor with unstoppable force. Letting a small shriek escape, he shut his eyes, expecting his face to slam into the computer monitor and send it crashing forward onto the floor.

It didn't.

When he opened his eyes, Colt was in the same cell with Bjorngar Hammerstrike, who was now looking down at Colt, his own eyes narrowed. Colt backed away from the character he had created...he had created himself...and stared in awe. Bjorngar Hammerstrike was real. The cell was real. It was all real.

"How did you get into my cell?" Bjorngar asked in a voice thick with an accent of some kind. "Why are you here? Why am I here?"

Colt said nothing, speechless and not knowing what he should do with this new development. His main urge at the moment was to run. He was not given the chance, however. Footsteps echoed from somewhere in the distance, and they were growing louder with each passing second. He could also make out torchlight, illuminating the darkened halls beyond the bars of the cell.

"Are you without the ability to speak?" Bjorngar asked.

"Um...I made you, dude. You're a Nord Warrior. Your birthsign was The Warrior, so you'd have an additional ten strength and endurance."

"What? How came you to know my birthsign? And what know you of the Nord People? Surely you are a Breton?"

Speechless once more, Colt stared at the man. He was just as he had created him.

"This is getting weird," he mumbled, before the cell was washed in torchlight. Three guards and Uriel Septim himself stood at the entrance to the cell.

"Why is the cell occupied?" One of the guards, a female, asked. "I thought I gave instructions to have this cell cleared!"

"It's no matter," replied the tallest guard, his voice deep and husky like Bjorngar's, but without the accent. "We have no time to reflect on it." The tall guard unsheathed a wicked-looking katana and spoke directly to Bjorngar and Colt. "Back against the wall, prisoners. We are coming in, and we will kill you if you move."

Bjorngar silently backed against the wall, doing as he obeyed but looking defiant the entire time. Colt just stood, watching the guards until the tall one smacked the flat of his sword against the bars of the cell. "Back against the wall, prisoner!" he yelled. "Don't make me hurt you..."

Dumbfounded, Colt began stammering to protest that this wasn't real and that he didn't have to do anything, that it was just a game and that maybe he was going a little bit crazy, but it all came out as gibberish. Before he could collect himself and try again, he was seized backward roughly and pushed against the wall. The breath was pushed from his lungs momentarily, preventing him from protesting against his rough treatment in any way.

"You'll not get me killed, too, fool!" Bjorngar hissed. "Are you mad? They will run you through! Those are the Blades!"

The air finally returning to his lungs, Colt thought it best to remain quiet and still as the Blades ushered Uriel Septim into the cell. The female guard began touching the moldy walls near the bunks...knocking on a stone here and there until finally one made a hollow thunk, and she pushed it in with the pommel of her sword. The wall shifted and began to move causing Colt to jump slightly.

Colt could have sworn Uriel Septim winked at him from across the cell, but he didn't dare speak about him, as the large, brown-skinned guard had his sword inches from Colt's throat. Suddenly, he wished that maybe he had bought a different game instead.