"It's a game," Marco said. "It has to be a game. I don't know the rules, Jake, but it's a game. The Ellimist and Crayak...they work on a totally different level. I mean, that time on the Iskoort world, even if you don't remember...Crayak programmed a species, alien killers that were ugly, U-G-L-Y ugly ugly, that wiped out hundreds of peace-loving species for fun. That's not someone who works on a human level. That's not someone who thinks like humans."

The corners of Marco's mouth tilted upward. "Anyone you've 'met' here that can tell a decent joke? Because that 'dream' crack, Jake? Lame. Totally lame."

The smile didn't reach his eyes. "Stop being selfish, Jake. If you've 'met' people here then maybe this whole world is something from their mind. And in case you've forgotten, Jake...we might be on a different species' world, like the Iskoorts', or the Andalites' or something - somewhere else in the galaxy for stakes we don't even know."

His eyes narrowed. "So, Jake - I'm going to treat this as an Ellimist's game, because then we have rules...that we can use." His eyes unfocused as he remembered a Chee creating holograms that distracted the Howlers. "So tell me about this world."