《Ludere online》 season 0: Prologue Prologue Brendan slumped back in his chair, the glow of the computer screen casting harsh shadows across his face. The cursor blinked mockingly, taunting him with his inability to focus on the assignment due tomorrow. He shoved the textbook away, the musty scent of old paper and instant ramen clinging to the air in his tiny apartment. The familiar ache in his chest tightened, a constant reminder of the void left by Mark''s absence. A year had passed since his best friend vanished, and the silence was suffocating. Their bond had been forged in the fires of countless virtual battles, their friendship a testament to their shared love for gaming. They¡¯d met during their freshman year of college, bonding over late-night study sessions and marathon gaming sessions, fueled by cheap pizza and bottomless cups of coffee. Mark, always the life of the party, approached every game with an unbridled enthusiasm that was contagious. He was the fearless explorer, the risk-taker, eager to dive headfirst into any new virtual world. Brendan, on the other hand, was the strategist, the meticulous planner, preferring to analyze every angle before venturing into the unknown. Despite their contrasting approaches, they formed an unbeatable team, their strengths and weaknesses complementing each other perfectly. They celebrated victories together, offered support during defeats, and pushed each other to be better gamers, better friends. Then came Ludere Online. Mark had been ecstatic, describing the game with a fervor that bordered on obsession. He talked about it incessantly, his eyes shining with excitement as he painted vivid pictures of a world so real, so immersive, that it promised to blur the lines between fantasy and reality. "It''s unlike anything we''ve ever seen, Bren," Mark had said, his voice trembling with anticipation. "Full sensory immersion, a world so real you can practically taste the air. It''s going to change everything." Mark, ever the loyal friend, had secured a coveted spot in the closed beta test and had even offered to pull some strings to get Brendan in as well. But Brendan, burdened by student loans and the demands of his part-time job, had hesitated. He¡¯d just graduated and the thought of adding another expense to his growing list felt overwhelming. ¡°Maybe once it goes public,¡± he¡¯d told Mark, trying to mask his envy with a forced smile. Mark, understanding as always, had simply clapped him on the shoulder and promised to share every detail of his adventures once he was allowed. ¡°Don''t worry, Bren,¡± he¡¯d said with a wink. ¡°I¡¯ll be your personal Ludere Online correspondent.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. A wave of guilt washed over Brendan, the memory of their last conversation a painful reminder of his own shortsightedness. He should have jumped at the chance, should have shared in Mark¡¯s excitement, should have been there for him. Now, he was left with nothing but regrets. Mark¡¯s disappearance had been as sudden as it was inexplicable. One day he was excitedly describing his latest exploits in Ludere Online, the next he was gone, leaving behind a bewildered fianc¨¦e and a trail of unanswered questions. The police investigation had quickly hit a dead end. Mark had simply vanished, last seen entering the Alluring Realms facility where Ludere Online was being developed. No witnesses, no leads, no explanation. Brendan had tried to move on, to bury himself in his studies and his work, but the memory of Mark haunted him. The unanswered questions gnawed at him, fueling a growing suspicion that Mark''s disappearance was somehow connected to Ludere Online. The guilt intensified, twisting like a knife in his gut. Had Mark encountered some unforeseen danger within the game? Had the technology malfunctioned, trapping him in a digital prison? Or worse? Then, one evening, an email appeared in his inbox. It was from Sarah, Mark¡¯s fianc¨¦e. The subject line simply read: "Please help." Brendan¡¯s heart pounded as he clicked on the message, his hands trembling slightly. "Brendan, I know this is a long shot, but I have to try," Sarah wrote, her words laced with desperation. "The police have given up, and I''m at my wit''s end. Mark was obsessed with Ludere Online before he disappeared. He wouldn''t stop talking about it. I know it sounds crazy, but I can''t shake the feeling that the game is somehow involved." "I know you were hesitant to play it before," she continued, "but I''m begging you, please, look into it. Maybe you can find something the police missed." Brendan stared at the message, his chest constricted with a mix of grief, guilt, and a flicker of hope. Sarah¡¯s plea resonated deeply with his own anxieties, echoing the suspicions that had been brewing within him. He knew what he had to do. It was the least he could do for Mark, for Sarah, for himself. He had to uncover the truth, no matter how unsettling it might be. With trembling hands, he opened his web browser and navigated to the Ludere Online website. The homepage was a dazzling display of hyperrealistic graphics and promises of unparalleled immersion. He clicked on the ¡®Beta Sign-Up¡¯ button, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. As he filled out the application, a sense of purpose washed over him, a lifeline in the sea of grief and uncertainty that had become his life. He had to do this. He had to find Mark. ¡°I¡¯m coming for you, buddy,¡± he whispered, his gaze fixed on the screen, his voice firm with resolve. ¡°I won¡¯t rest until I find you.¡± season 0: chapter 1 Brendan rubbed at his eyes and adjusted his blue light blocking glasses, the flickering light of the monitor reflecting in their lenses. His fingers flew across the keyboard, navigating through pages of forum posts dedicated to Ludere Online. Excitement thrummed through him, a familiar energy he hadn¡¯t felt since his favorite author released the 721st, and regretfully final, book in a beloved fantasy series. He scrolled past threads filled with speculation about character classes, the intricacies of the game¡¯s magic system, and rumors of hidden quests and legendary artifacts. His gaze lingered on a particularly heated debate about the difficulty of mastering the in-game languages, or conlangs. Some players argued they were unnecessarily convoluted, comparing them to the notoriously complex conlangs of Alluring Realms¡¯ Sarari Online¨C a game so intricate that dedicated guilds had yet to fully decipher its linguistic structure, even with Alluring Realms offering a prize for the first complete dictionary. Brendan, ever the pragmatist, found the idea of wrestling with alien grammar less than appealing. He chuckled, picturing players struggling to order a virtual beer in a language that sounded like a cat throwing up hairballs. Brendan shook his head then tabbed over to another page, clicking on an outline of the class system. ¡®there are your normal and common classes that you expect to see, just like in most other games but then you have specializations and class designations. Specializations have stronger abilities in their field, tossing away the wide array of potential skills that the originating class offers. I.e. rather than a mage they become a warlock, a summoner, or an elementalist etc. each of which can further specialize if the player so chooses. A swordsman becomes a knight, a paladin, a duelist, and again each of these can be further specialized. You don¡¯t even have to stick to one class, once you hit a certain level or milestone for the class you can pick up another class. Though you want to make sure there is synergy between any/all additional classes you pick up. That¡¯s where the designations come in, they help with multiclassing and party building. Classes designated as "active" are the heavy hitters or at the forefront of the action. Their skills are things like actively attacking. These are your tanks. Your knights, druids, hunters, and swordsmen. Classes designated as "passive" are usually in the rear allowing other peoples, spirits, machines, or objects to fight for them. Think mage, summoner, rogue. That sort of class, DPS set ups. They aren¡¯t front line and shouldn¡¯t be pulling aggro. Finally, classes designated as "reactive" are a sort of combo/hybrid of the previous in that they are usually passive but react to influences and become passive or vice versa. So a person may not actively seek a fight but will jump to the front if one raises. Or they may actively seek a fight but slip to the rear once the fight begins. These are versatile but tend to be those with high draw backs such as the cryogenisis or pyroclasm type mages or they are classes that can only be gained by merging highly synergistic classes you have multiclassed into.¡¯ Brendan tabbed again and skimmed through the stats information. ¡®Hygieian Meter: This meter monitors your actions, thoughts, and perceptions within the world of Ludere Online to affect the way you interact with the environment and other players. The meter¡¯s rating reflects your overall mental and emotional well-being within the game. A high rating indicates mental fortitude, a positive outlook, and strong resistance to negative influences. A character with a high Hygieian Meter will be perceived as healthy, vibrant, and charismatic by other players and NPCs. They will also benefit from increased resilience to fear, despair, and mental manipulation. As with any stat you can ¡°train¡± to be higher through quests or NPC trainers and there are actions and status effects that can detract from the stat.¡¯ He frowned and muttered to hisself . ¡°So this thing tracks my mood? That¡¯s¡­ weird.¡± Brendan switched tabs, bringing up the official Ludere Online website. The homepage, a dazzling display of hyper realistic graphics, promised an unprecedented level of immersion. A banner at the top announced the launch of the open beta in a few weeks. Brendan had already secured his spot. He wished he could talk to mark about it all. He was always better at coming up with how to game the system, especially when there were odd mechanics like the hygieian meter. A pang of guilt twisted in his gut. The memory of Mark¡¯s disappearance, the unanswered questions, the whispers of a connection to Ludere Online¡­ it all felt like a tangled knot he couldn¡¯t unravel. He pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the anticipation bubbling within him. Ludere Online represented more than just an escape; it was a chance, a slim hope that he might find some clue, some trace of Mark within the game¡¯s intricate world. Brendan glanced at the clock. He had promised Marie, one of the lead developers and a surprisingly compassionate soul in a sea of tech-obsessed personalities, that he¡¯d arrive at the Alluring Realms facility early to go over the final pre-testing procedures. He closed his laptop, a wave of nervous energy washing over him, and headed out the door, his thoughts already lost in the digital landscapes that awaited him. Brendan closed his laptop, the glow of the screen fading as he shut the lid. A wave of nervous energy washed over him, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. He glanced at the clock, its digital face glowing a harsh red in the dim light of his apartment. He was running late. He had promised Marie, one of the lead developers on Ludere Online, that he would arrive at the Alluring Realms facility early. Marie, a surprisingly compassionate soul in a sea of tech-obsessed personalities, wanted to go over the final pre-testing procedures with him. Brendan quickly shoved his laptop into his backpack, along with a worn copy of the Ludere Online player''s guide and a notebook filled with scribbled notes and forum posts. He had spent countless hours researching the game, pouring over every scrap of information he could find, trying to make sense of the complex mechanics and the rumors of hidden quests and legendary artifacts. Ludere Online represented more than just an escape; it was a chance, a slim hope that he might find some clue, some trace of his missing friend, Mark. He rushed out of his tiny apartment, locking the door behind him. The hallway was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarette smoke and burnt popcorn. He hurried down the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Outside, the city was already stirring, the pre-dawn light casting long shadows across the narrow streets. He hurried toward the bus stop, his breath misting in the cool morning air. The bus arrived, its brakes hissing as it pulled to a stop. Brendan climbed aboard, finding an empty seat near the back. The bus was crowded with commuters, their faces pale and drawn in the harsh fluorescent light. Brendan leaned back in his seat, trying to ignore the jostling of the bus and the cacophony of conversations swirling around him. He closed his eyes, focusing on the anticipation bubbling within him. The bus rumbled on, eventually reaching the outskirts of the city. The Alluring Realms facility loomed ahead, a sprawling complex of gleaming steel and glass, a testament to the company¡¯s ambition and technological prowess. Brendan¡¯s heart hammered against his ribs, a nervous tremor running through him as he stepped off the bus. He took a deep breath, the air tinged with the antiseptic scent of the lab, and tried to ignore the slight tremor in his hands. He walked towards the main entrance, the glass doors sliding open with a silent hiss. Inside, the lobby was a hive of activity, developers and technicians hurrying to and fro, their voices echoing in the cavernous space. Brendan approached the reception desk, his heart pounding. It had been a long day¡ªweeks of interviews, tests, and probing questions, all culminating in this moment. "Brendan?" The receptionist, a young woman with bright pink hair and a name tag that read ¡°Stacy¡±, looked up from her computer screen, a welcoming smile on her face. "Marie''s been expecting you. She''s in room 23. You¡¯ll just go down this main hall here and take the first two lefts." "Thanks," Brendan mumbled, his throat suddenly dry. He followed Stacy''s directions, navigating the labyrinthine corridors of the facility. He passed labs filled with humming servers and flickering monitors, offices with doors closed tight, and conference rooms where groups of people huddled over tablets, their faces illuminated by the cold glow of the screens. He finally reached room 23, a large, sterile-looking room filled with a singular gleaming black pod. Brendan¡¯s heart hammered against his ribs. This was it. The culmination of weeks of anticipation, of sleepless nights spent poring over game guides and forum posts, of a desperate hope that somewhere within the intricate lines of code and the pulse of alien-like technology, he might find an answer. He found Marie near the back of the room, hunched over a tablet, her brow furrowed in concentration. She glanced up as he approached, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Brendan! You made it! Sorry for the wait, just finishing up some last-minute calibrations." "No problem," Brendan said, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. "Alright, let''s get you prepped," Marie said, gesturing the pod. "Have you had a chance to review the consent forms?" "Yeah, I skimmed them," Brendan admitted. "Skimmed them?" Marie raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her face. "Brendan, these are important documents. We''re talking about full sensory immersion here, a level of realism that''s never been achieved before. We need to make sure you understand the risks involved." "I know, I know," Brendan said, feeling a flush creep up his neck. "It''s just...there''s a lot to take in. All those clauses about potential side effects, psychological impact..." "I get it," Marie said, her voice softening. "It can be overwhelming. But trust me, we''re not going to let anything bad happen to you. We''ve got the best team in the industry, and we''ve taken every precaution to ensure your safety." She paused, her gaze meeting Brendan''s. "But if you have any concerns, any questions at all, at any point, please don''t hesitate to ask." Brendan nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for Marie''s reassuring presence. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous flutter in his stomach. ¡°Okay, so, what¡¯s next?¡± he asked, determined to project an air of confidence, even as his heart hammered against his ribs. "Next," Marie said, her smile returning, "we get you into the game." Brendan''s heart hammered against his ribs, a nervous tremor running through him as he eased himself into the pod''s cool embrace. The haptic feedback gel of the pod molded around him, a silent, soothing pressure. He took a deep breath, the air tinged with the antiseptic scent of the room, and tried to ignore the slight tremor in his hands. It had been a long day¡ªweeks of interviews, tests, and probing questions, all culminating in this moment. he was finally getting to the thing he had most anticipated since mark first mentioned it. He had just assumed it would be long after release before he had the chance. He had put up with being poked, prodded, the lab techs stealing samples from him and irritating sensors all for this moment. He was finally getting to try Ludere Online, to lose himself in a world built on whispers and legends, a world promising an escape unlike any other. To finally find answers. He''d agreed to this, thrown himself into the melee of beta testing, not just for the money¡ªthough God knew he needed that with his student loans hanging over his head like a guillotine¡ªbut for the hope it offered. The hope that somewhere within the intricate lines of code and the pulse of alien like technology, he might find an answer. this job offered more than money, more than stellar benefits. It offered answers. His best friend, Mark, had vanished a year ago, last seen entering this very building, last seen disappearing into the depths of whatever world Dave and his team were building. With a grin he laughed quietly to himself, slipping on the helmet that would track and react to his brain waves while sending the related data to a storage server where it would be analyzed for potential improvements. It immediately adjusted to fit his head, the weight of it barely noticeable as he leaned back to relax fully before cursing. Brendan blindly groped around, mentally kicking himself for not doing this before slipping the helmet on and wishing that the helmet had built in cameras that could display the surroundings or some sort of window, until he finally found the button to close the pod. He pressed it and the newness of the pod was once again evident in the small click it gave as he did then the door to the pod closed. The hydraulics gave a small sigh as the door closed fully, wrapping him in perfect darkness as everything began to boot up with near inaudible clicks and whirs. He made a mental note to mention exterior helmets to the staff though surely there weren¡¯t any others who would make the same mistake he had. Brendan shifted in the gel not entirely sure what he should do with his hands as he settled deeper into the seat, absentmindedly scratching at the sensors on his chest before shrugging and just laying his hands across his stomach. "Alright, Brendan," a voice crackled through the pod''s speakers, pulling him back to the present. "Just a few more adjustments and we''ll get you situated. How are you feeling? Any discomfort?" "All good here, Marie," Brendan replied, trying to keep his voice even. Marie, one of the few developers who seemed genuinely concerned about the well-being of the testers, had been a reassuring presence throughout the preliminary tests. "Excellent. Before diving into the game, let me know if you want to tweak any default settings. We have options for pain relay, sensory input, even nightmare difficulty¡ª" "Nightmare difficulty?" Brendan cut in, curiosity piqued. The term sparked a flicker of unease, a prickle of something deeper than just game mechanics. "Ah, yeah," Marie chuckled, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "It''s... intense. Dave''s vision, you know? He wanted the game to be as real as possible, to push boundaries. But it''s entirely optional. You can adjust it anytime." "I''ll... stick with the standard settings for now," Brendan said slowly. He wasn''t sure he wanted to confront the potential horrors of "nightmare difficulty" just yet. He had enough nightmares of his own. Brendan mentally tapped the English (American) option then flicked through the other language setting options until he found the secondary language options where he turned off all of the in-game local languages, setting them to English as well. Learning another conlang was not what he was here for, though there were no doubt those who would relish the challenge or even just those wishing for a deeper immersion that would set their games to use nothing but the in-game languages. He snorted at the idea. Some games had conlangs that were so easy a casual player could pick it up with next to no effort while others were insanely difficult to master. One example was another game that Alluring Realms had recently released shortly before announcing the open beta sign ups for Ludere Online. Known as Sarari Online, an immensely complex sci fi MMORPG, had conlangs so difficult that players had yet to create a full dictionary much less decipher sentence structure despite entire guilds being dedicated to the effort. Alluring realms had even gone so far as to make a contest out of it. He followed Marie''s instructions and the text prompt that hovered in his vision, adjusting minor settings like language preferences and movement sensitivity. With a final nod, clicked to accept his changes. The world dissolved into a blinding white, then solidified into a vast hall of shimmering mirrors, each reflecting a different form, a different possibility. Brendan, taking a deep breath, stepped forward, the echoes of his footsteps sharp in the silence, and began to explore the possibilities that awaited him. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. There was a second blinding flash and sensations flooded his system. Gooseflesh rippled across his skin as the sensation of full body pins and needles shifted to a cool refreshing breeze that smelled subtly of lilac and juniper. When he was able to look around and process his surroundings Brendan found himself standing in an expanse of white, with nothing more than a plain mahogany table and chair. Both of which sat about five feet away from him and for a moment he was back in the homebrew campaign where his DM had slipped a mimic into the tavern and it had methodically killed off every NPC in the vicinity while he and the other players had desperately tried to locate the killer only to be eaten. A red opaque dialog box popped up on his left side as he looked at it, pushing the memory aside. <¡°Please take a seat.¡±> He sighed, waving the box away to dismiss it. Trudging over to the chair, he pulled it out to sit down. How long had the other new beta testers told him this portion took? The dialog box returned with a pop! Spraying pixels like a small confetti cannon. He frowned at the effects, hopefully it was a one off or it would get annoying really fast. <¡°Please stand, then jump twice¡±> Doing as told, he stood. Slowly pushing the chair out to the side, he then jumped twice. Confetti popped again! Yep, definitely going to be annoying. That would be the first thing he put in the paperwork when he logged out. The moment his feet hit the ground just as the text in the box changed. <¡°Please run in a circle¡±> Well, it hadn¡¯t indicated how large of a circle. So he ran a quick lap around the table, coming to a jerky halt when he misjudged his footing. This caused him to stumble over a chair leg. It was then, after tumbling to the ground that he actually looked at himself and noticed that he was a bright canary yellow. He stared at his hands, rotating them slowly, before sliding his gaze up his arms then down his torso and legs. He huffed a small laugh. It seemed that upon further inspection he actually looked like an old crash test dummy. He rolled his eyes and shook his head at the bad joke. This was a test run after all Brendan sobered as the next dialog box popped up. <¡°Please move freely and test out the movements until the sound of the chime. This box will automatically minimize however the button contained will remain within sight as a small icon. If something is not as it should be, please press the icon to flag the development teams for assistance. Various objects and creatures may spawn for you to interact with or explore during this time. You will also be allowed to create your character at this juncture. You should take advantage of this, as it may affect later gameplay, in-game reputation, and even how your skills or magic may activate.¡±> As Brendan finished reading this he heard a faint rustle. In response, he looked around, the dialog box minimizing from his view to a small icon on the left in his peripheral vision. He watched in stunned silence as grass and dirt began to spill out in waves around him. Mighty oak trees sprouted from nothing growing to massive sizes with a long suffering tired groan while juniper trees sprouted, its trunk and branches fully forming before giving a shiver and sprouting needles sending another wave of their strong smell wafted over to him. The sky took on a deep blue hue like that of a fresh spring sky as if someone had dropped dye into water, and a large orange sun rose from a previously nonexistent horizon to hang heavily overhead. The warmth slowly rose to a comfortable temperature as a whispering wind breezed through the now tight canopy of trees causing the light that pierced it to dance around him. He blinked, taking a slow deep breath as he turned in a complete circle to look around. He was snapped out of his awe as he turned back to see the old chair and table sink into the ground, quickly replaced by a small cabin. He quickly scanned it and mentally listed the notable features. One, maybe two rooms. Wooden cracked clay tile roofing. A thin jutting chimney that looked to be made with hand shaped black mud that released weak tendrils of smoke, a closed door that hung limply from worn hinges and appeared to be made of a single large piece of weathered wood. Arching a brow he looked up as birds began to call, he shook himself refocusing before he walked over to the cabin, a small gravel path racing from his feet to the door as the simulation worked to complete the picturesque scene until finally crunching filled his ears as the rest of the audio kicked in, the sound of grinding rocks and stones grumbling from beneath his feet began to filter up with each step he took. He placed a hand on the door, and gave it a slight push. Surely this early in the game a cabin in the woods would be harmless. Right? The hinges complained weakly with age as the door slowly swung open, small wood splinters biting at his hand from the weathered wood and he winced quickly looking around the interior. The cabin was a single unfurnished room with no window, empty aside from a small wood burning stove. It gave off a dim red light, while radiating a relaxing warmth. Just as Brendan was about to turn and leave a new window popped into existence to his left only blocking a small portion of his vision, the icon to flag the development team still visibly overlapping it. He turned to fully look at it and squinted. <¡°This is a way-shrine of Oelia, step inside to begin character customization. Your character cannot begin the game until a preset has been chosen however basic unaligned skills or magic can still be learned and trial quests or exploration to gain world relevant lore or reputation completed. Once you have completed character customization, you may enter the game or continue the trial but cannot return unless you create a new character.¡±> He smiled wide, bouncing on his toes lightly eager to finally see the races that had been speculated about in all those forum posts he had read, he hadn''t even found anything about them in the company provided booklet he had skimmed or the online forum posts. He rushed deeper into the cabin, standing beside the small wood stove and faced a wall that shimmered. Slowly 8 frames melted out of the wall, each had ornate frames of varying styles and held a unique face with vastly different scenery behind it but a passing glance showed none offered any information. Maybe he had to focus on them or intend to learn about them? Giving it a shot he frowned when nothing happened, sighing as he looked closer at them. If he wanted to learn more he would likely have to go out and do tutorial quests to learn lore or read books while within the game itself. He was leaning towards the latter option, he just wanted to dive right in and get started. The first picture frame was a plain human who looked smug and rakish, his cool blue eyes and sun tanned skin glittering while a wind tugged at short messy locks. Boring and too generalist in stats if this game was like any other RPG. There was rarely ever anything special about humans in these games beyond extra points to allocate, less restriction on classes or some overly complicated lore. No, he definitely wouldn¡¯t be choosing this. The frame neighboring it held a proud and noble Elf, he had flowing black silk hair curtained beneath a shining veil with almond shaped hooded grey eyes that cast an odd light from beneath the sheer fabric. Too overdone. While elves tended to have a higher aptitude for magic they were usually played more than most other races and you always ended up hearing the same insults like knife ear or pretty boy. Brendan also didn¡¯t relish the idea of wearing the headdress that looked too much like a bridal veil. The frame next to the elf was a powerful and severe looking goblin, his tribal tattoo and paint markings taking the place of hair that was shaven close to the scalp. Many piercings glittered from his ears and bulbous nose. Just. No. Definitely not. Beside that a fierce and feral feline face with flowing burnished golden fur and separate eyes. Next was a grinning canine face with mischief glinting in its eyes. Another no on both counts. Next in line was a reptilian face with cold indifference and burning eyes. A solid maybe he may come back to. As was the one that sat next to it, a Draconic face, with a hungry smile and a secret twinkling in its vision somehow looking vaguely like the elf had despite being a different race or at least a variant. The last looked much like a human, but somehow different in a way that he couldn''t put his finger one it beyond the glittering crystal embedded in his forehead and the odd pupil shape. Likely another no. Standing there for a moment, he took his time considering. It looked as if there were still spots on the wall for more options but these were all that were currently available to him. He looked between the Reptilian and Draconian figures before reaching out and tapping the draconic face. One by one, each of the pictures on the wall were replaced with variations of the draconic option with even more frames rising from the wall. There were a slew of narrow, hungry looking ones with dull neutral colored scales in various patterns. There were those whose eyes shone like candles or had overly long teeth that poked between their lips. Some options had curling rams horns, of which some were with the tips capped in gleaming gold or silver. Some horns appeared to have bits of gems piercing them or delicate looking nets of thin chains woven between them with small glittering beads among the chains. There was one type with scarlet feathers sprouting from his crown that looked as if they may go down the back as well, one had splashes of silver on his ebony scales looking like a far off nebulus. There was one with thick scars and rippling pectoral muscles that danced beneath golden scales as he breathed. One coated in patterns of sapphire and ruby scales that twisted down his arms and neck, a set of cream colored nubby horns protruding from the ridge of his eyebrows. With a slight frown, he looked over the pictures consideringly before settling on one with a simple face. This one was absent of all adornments but possessing a solid overall color on gleaming scales. Surely if he decided to get piercings, feathers, or horns there would be a way later once he was in game. If there wasn¡¯t, then it¡¯d be better to stick with a simple character rather than have an eyesore. He snorted thinking about how one of his former roommates had started out a game with a female avatar that was a real eye bleed inducing nightmare to look at not realizing the game didn¡¯t let you change appearance or even create a new character so ended up stuck with it until he finally quit the game over a year later. This decision made all the pictures melted back into the wall replaced by an aged looking quilt that hung from the ceiling made out of patches of various colors. He immediately touched the rich emerald color to the far right without a second thought, and stepped back as the quilt turned to water. Cold water splashed over him in a frigid wave making him gasp. He felt every muscle in his body tense, and he couldn¡¯t help but close his eyes. A rather surprised high pitch erupting from the back of his throat as the sensations rolled over him in a wave. When he opened his eyes, a tall antique mirror stood before him and a new dialog box popped up to his left. All other options now having gone. <¡°You have chosen to play a Male Cataphractan, Is this correct? If you accept this you can still change your choice until you leave the tutorial zone.¡±> >Yes He looked at himself in the mirror, turning and flexing to get a better look at the character. The emerald-green scales rippled across his chest and arms noting he was only in basic underwear in the process. He turned and glanced at his back, where short black spines ran down his back and across his shoulder blades in a T shape. The spines spreading across his shoulder blades looked sharp despite being relatively small. He looked dangerous. Brendan smiled wide then pushed the button indicating that this was the character he wanted. The mirror grew outwards on the sides, versions of his character with different armors, outfits and weapons appearing. Growling he voiced his opinions. ¡°Can I just, I don¡¯t know, say I want to be a fire mage? Here I¡¯ll even input my name so we can get through with this. P-A-G-A-C-C-O. Or heck, you know what how about just P-A-G. There¡¯s no way that either of those have been picked so there, we good?¡± He stood with his arms wide, waiting for something to answer his questions. When nothing happened, he sighed. ¡°No wonder everyone complains about this part of the game¡± Pag rubbed his temple and looked at the mirror watching as the figures moved as he did. This had to be the most convoluted way to do character creation. What¡¯s with all the transitions? It just seems like overkill, or as if some dev wanted to show off, if you asked him. Why waste so much effort on the tutorial of all things? ¡°Honestly, if it weren''t for the fact that I''m being paid I¡¯d have already logged out. This is so-¡± He shook his head, biting off the sentence and thinking about Mark he forced himself to focus once again. To his left were what appeared to be the classes that focused on magic. While the right held the obvious melee fighters, these were an automatic no for him. The center appeared to be more generalized or even hybridized classes. Behind each of the classes represented, there seemed to be silhouettes of others. Maybe classes that would be available later or specializations of some sort, or were those he could gain access to by doing tutorial quests? None of it was at all helpful without more information. He glanced to the side where the icon sat and mentally tapped it. A small box popped up in front of him. <¡±What is the nature of your issue? Please select one option and give a detailed description and any related details pertaining to actions or events that may have led to the incident.¡±> >Complaint, Control Issues, Game Error/Glitch, Inquiry.< Brendan, no he had to get in character. He was no longer Brendan. Pag tapped the complaint option then filled in the small box with details about how he thought the helmet should have exterior cameras, how the confetti explosions at completing what was within the tutorial dialog boxes may have been amusing the first time but was definitely was irritating after that, and how he really disliked the overly complicated character creation before submitting the form. Sighing he padded to the end looking over his options one last time, uncertain what some of the other magical classes were and seeing no evident way to get information he and tapped on what appeared to be a mage if the hat and robes were anything to go off of. There seemed to be a momentary lag then Pag blinked in surprise as the glass puffed into a noxious purple smoke that flew into his face, filling his nostrils with the vague smell of burnt rubber. He waved his hands in front of his face, swiping at the smoke and trying to force it away. His hands grew increasingly warm with each swipe as the fog evolved from harsh purple to a deep caustic black. A wave of mind-numbing exhaustion swept over him, forcing him to fall back and sit on the ground. His ears rang, sounds reaching him as if he were deep underwater, and he was unable to make sense of anything. He sat on cold dirty cobble stones. Wait, when had those gotten there? Pondering this, thoughts parsing as if he was slogging up hill in molasses, he sat there watching the scene around him while unable to form even a vague semblance of coherent thought at a speed that they would have actually been useful. Squat, two-story buildings roared with flames as rampant fire tore into the dry timber that groaned and cracked pulling the building inwards sending fingers of flames dancing skywards as they spewed embers angrily. The blaze blackened the dull grey stones as thick greasy smoke rolled out from the buildings. People ran, obviously screaming even as the roar of the flames swallowed their sounds. They held onto each other, to children, or what little of their possessions and pets they could carry as the inferno grew until Pag was the only one there. Odd-sounding sirens began to wail through the waves of heat that rose off the stones and wreckage. Demanding voices barked all around him giving what he assumed to be orders at the fleeing people. Or were they aimed at him? Pag mumbled incoherently to himself as he motioned to bring up his character info. A slight sound of static buzzed, the fields populating out of order. Cringing Pag was finally able to form an intelligible sentence. ¡°What the hell-¡± He stopped mid sentence as he looked at the information in confusion. Player Name: Pagacco Level: 1 Class:Mage Subclass:None Profession: None Specialization: None Currently Active Title: Enemy of Soohan Most used Skill: Flames Alignment: Inflammatory Health: 110/110 [R:10] Mana: 110/110 [R:10] Stamina: 55/55 [R:11] Points Earned: 0 Reputation: Soohan:Blood Feud (-9999) Attributes: Strength:10 Constitution:11 Dexterity:10 Intelligence: 10 Wisdom: 11 Charisma: 10 Piety: 0 Luck: 10 Karma: -10 Combat: Attack: 10 Accuracy: 5 Agility: 10 Speed: 5 Critical: 0.21 Endurance:5 Focus: 12 Defense:10 Magic Def: 10 Armor:0 Hygieian Meter: 0 Active Status Effects: Bleed I (Minor) - Nude Abilities: Flames - Beginner 2 Titles Enemy of Soohan >Yes< Pag sat there for a moment then selected no, staring at the information as his mana refilled, the mind numbing fog and ringing slowly fading. ¡°What the fuck just happened?¡± ¡°What an apt question¡± A gruff voice snarled from behind him. season 0: chapter 2 A symphony of low-key tension filled the developer''s room. The rhythmic tapping of keyboards, the soft hum of servers, and the occasional sigh of frustration blended into a familiar background noise. Frank, hunched over his monitor, felt the weight of another all-nighter pressing down on him. The remnants of a cold coffee sat beside a half-eaten energy bar, both doing little to alleviate the weariness that had settled deep in his bones. Across the room, Sean meticulously arranged his workspace, his movements precise and deliberate. Every pen was aligned, every notepad perfectly squared, his keyboard gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. Order, it seemed, was his only solace in this chaotic world. "Sean, you tossed him out of character creation again?" Frank''s voice, heavy with exhaustion, sliced through the silence. He pushed back from his monitor, the glow highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. "You know they need to finish that process to figure out their skills and magic affinity." Sean, without looking up from his meticulous task, grumbled, "Character creation is a privilege, Frank, not a right. If they don''t use it properly¡­" He trailed off, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. Another one bites the dust, he thought, a flicker of dark amusement momentarily banishing his own fatigue. It was almost too easy to exploit the system, to send those arrogant newbies spiraling into the game''s unforgiving wilderness. A little chaos, he believed, kept things interesting. "He submitted a complaint about wanting exterior cameras on the helmet!" Ian, the youngest of the developers, chimed in with a laugh. "Who forgets to close the pod before putting the helmet on?" A wave of sympathetic exhaustion washed over Frank. He remembered the early days of development, the constant struggle to balance realism with player comfort. Exterior cameras? It was a reasonable request, but one they''d had to scrap due to privacy concerns. He could only imagine the tester''s frustration. Frank rubbed his temples, the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind his eyes. "Look, I''m changing his spawn point. He''s a sitting duck out in the wilds with no gear. Ten spawn kills is enough to break anyone, especially with the new haptic feedback system." His fingers flew across the keyboard, navigating the game''s backend with practiced ease. "Let''s not give Dave another reason to breathe down our necks about losing testers." Sean winced, finally tearing his gaze away from his meticulously organized workspace. "Elaine is going to have my hide for this one, isn''t she?" The thought of their lead developer''s wrath was enough to make even Sean''s usual swagger falter. Maybe I went a little too far this time, he thought, a sliver of doubt creeping in. "You think Elaine is bad? Wait until Dave hears about this latest stunt," Frank''s voice was grim. They both knew the pressure Dave was under ¨C the investors, the deadlines, the whispers about the Lazarus Project. Losing another tester, especially this early in the beta, would push him over the edge. "Maybe we could just slip him back into the tutorial?" Sean offered weakly. "Fake an error log?" "The AIs won¡¯t allow it, Sean." Frank shook his head, his gaze fixed on the cascade of code scrolling across his screen. ¡°What¡¯s done is done. Besides, even a minor server rewind would have the rest of the players screaming bloody murder. We¡¯d never hear the end of it.¡± A heavy silence hung in the air, a palpable tension settling over the developer''s room. The incident with the tester, though seemingly minor, had exposed the frayed edges of their already precarious situation. Sean, his meticulous facade momentarily cracked, nervously tapped a pen against his desk, the rhythmic click a counterpoint to the steady hum of the servers. Frank, his gaze still fixed on the cascade of code scrolling across his screen, felt a knot of unease tightening in his gut. He pushed aside the thought of Dave''s impending wrath and focused on the code, trying to find some semblance of order in the digital chaos. He couldn''t shake the feeling that something was off, that the game itself was becoming increasingly unstable. The whispers about the Lazarus Project, about Dave''s reckless pursuit of realism, added to his unease. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. He knew the official line: the Genesis Rocks were groundbreaking processors, capable of generating hyper-realistic environments and AI responses. But whispers circulated among the developers¡ªrumors of strange occurrences, of blurred lines between the virtual and the real. Frank tried to dismiss them as mere superstition, the product of overwork and sleep deprivation. But a part of him, a part he couldn''t quite silence, wondered if there was more to the story. "You know," Sean said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the fragile quiet, "there''s a rumor going around that Xian has started some sort of¡­ ''indulgence-oriented'' cult using his new favored status with Ilmas." He offered this tidbit of gossip as if to distract himself, and Frank, from the looming specter of Dave''s wrath. Frank snorted, a brief flicker of amusement breaking through his fatigue. "Let him have his fun. It''s better than unleashing another plague on the unsuspecting populace." He paused, recalling the incident Sean had so delicately alluded to. ¡°Besides, those server wipes were a nightmare to clean up.¡± His respite was short-lived. A notification flashed across his screen, highlighting a new login: PillowHorror. Frank swore under his breath. Of course. Just when we thought it was safe to breathe. He took a long drag from his vape, the sweet, artificial blueberry scent doing little to calm his nerves. PillowHorror was a legend among the developers, a player known for his relentless pursuit of power and his uncanny ability to exploit the game''s mechanics. His arrival, especially at a time when the game was already teetering on the brink of instability, could only mean trouble. "Well, gentlemen," Frank said, his voice laced with resignation, "it looks like we''re back in the trenches. Keep an eye on those logs, and for God''s sake, try to keep the damage to a minimum." As Ian and Frank braced themselves for the inevitable wave of chaos that would follow in the wake of PillowHorror, Sean, ever the contrarian, simply leaned back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face. ¡°This is going to be interesting,¡± he murmured, a hint of dark anticipation in his voice. Frank shot him a withering look, a mixture of exasperation and fear in his eyes. Sean, it seemed, was oblivious to the potential consequences, the looming shadow of the Lazarus Project and its implications. Or perhaps, Frank thought with a shudder, he simply didn''t care. Either way, Frank knew this was just the beginning. The storm was gathering, and they were caught in its path. The developer''s room remained shrouded in a tense silence, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the servers and the quiet click of keyboards. Frank, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten, leaned forward in his chair, his gaze fixed on the monitor displaying PillowHorror''s login. A cold dread crept down his spine, a sense of foreboding settling in his gut. He knew PillowHorror''s reputation. The player was known for pushing the boundaries of the game, for finding exploits and loopholes that the developers never anticipated. "What''s he up to this time?" Ian murmured, peering over Frank''s shoulder at the screen. "Hopefully just causing his usual mayhem," Frank replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but his voice was tight with tension. The logs scrolled across the screen, a torrent of data detailing PillowHorror''s movements within the game. At first, it seemed like business as usual: the player was logging in, checking his stats, familiarizing himself with the recent updates. But then, a series of red flags began to appear. PillowHorror was accessing areas of the game that were still under development, manipulating game mechanics in ways that shouldn''t be possible. Frank''s dread intensified. This was more than just PillowHorror''s usual mischief. This was something different, something dangerous. Sean, seemingly oblivious to the growing tension, leaned back in his chair, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "Looks like our resident chaos agent is back in action," he remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice. Frank ignored him, his attention laser-focused on the logs. PillowHorror was interacting with the Genesis Rock matrix, the very heart of the game''s reality engine. A chill ran down Frank''s spine. The Genesis Rocks were powerful, capable of generating hyper-realistic environments and AI responses, but they were also volatile. Tampering with them could have catastrophic consequences. "He''s not just playing the game anymore," Frank muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "He''s trying to rewrite it." He exchanged a worried glance with Ian, who was now staring at the monitor with wide, frightened eyes. Sean, however, seemed almost amused by the unfolding events. "This is where it gets interesting," he said, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Let''s see what our friend PillowHorror can do." season 0: chapter 3 The world dissolved into a dizzying swirl of colors and shapes, the burnt rubber stench from the character creation screen clinging to Pag¡¯s senses like a physical presence. He stumbled, his virtual legs slow to respond, and found himself sprawled on the unforgiving ground, the sharp prickle of thorns digging into his palms. He pushed himself up, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs, and found himself surrounded. Angry faces, weathered and scarred, glared down at him. Their roughspun clothing, stained with dirt and sweat, marked them as laborers, farmers¡ªpeople who knew the unforgiving realities of the world firsthand. In their hands, they clutched an assortment of makeshift weapons¡ªcrude clubs, rusted blades, and sharpened farming implements that glinted menacingly in the fading light. Panic seized him, his breath catching in his throat. This wasn¡¯t the grand, welcoming vista he''d expected. Where were the bustling towns, the friendly NPCs offering quests, the gentle nudges guiding him into the game world? "What¡­ what is this?" His voice, a strained whisper, was lost in the cacophony of muttered threats and the rustle of weapons being hefted. A figure pushed through the crowd, his bearing radiating an air of authority that silenced the angry mob with a single glance. He was tall and powerfully built, his features a blend of human and draconian, with scales shimmering like polished jade beneath his roughspun tunic. A pair of curved horns, etched with intricate patterns, framed a face that was stern, weathered, and surprisingly expressive. "Traveler," the figure boomed, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that seemed to vibrate in Pag''s chest. "Judgment has been passed for the destruction you have wrought." Judgment? Destruction? Pag stared back, his mind reeling, his initial panic giving way to confusion. He''d just been in the character creation screen! What destruction could he possibly have caused? As if reading his thoughts, the figure gestured toward the edge of the clearing. Pag turned, his gaze following the figure''s outstretched hand, and gasped. Where moments before there had been only dense forest, a path of scorched earth now cut through the landscape. Trees were reduced to smoldering stumps, their branches blackened and bare. The air hung heavy with the acrid scent of smoke, the silence broken only by the crackle of dying embers. His stomach lurched, a wave of nausea washing over him. He vaguely recalled the sensation of heat coursing through his veins, of flames dancing at his fingertips. Could that¡­ could that have been him? He opened his mouth to speak, explain, and plead ignorance, but the words died in his throat as the figure fixed him with a piercing gaze. "The spirits of this land do not differentiate between intent and outcome, traveler." The figure¡¯s voice was low, almost regretful. "You wielded power recklessly, and the consequences are yours to bear." He turned, addressing the crowd with a slight nod. "He is to face the wilds, to know the weight of his actions. Ten deaths he will face, at the hands of beast or man. Only then will he be absolved." Terror, cold and sharp, pierced through Pag¡¯s confusion. Ten deaths? But¡­ this was just a game! Wasn''t it? The crowd parted, a path opening before him, leading deeper into the shadowed forest. Fear warred with a growing sense of injustice. He hadn¡¯t even started the game, hadn''t had a chance to learn the rules, and already he was being condemned. A low growl, guttural and menacing, rose from the edge of the trees. Pag spun around, his heart pounding. A pair of glowing eyes, malevolent and hungry, stared back at him from the undergrowth. "Go," the figure commanded, his voice brooking no argument. ¡°Face the consequences of your actions, and pray you survive to learn from them.¡± The crowd surged forward, their shouts echoing through the trees as Pag stumbled back, his gaze darting between the approaching mob and the predator lurking in the shadows. He was trapped, alone, with nothing but his wits and the remnants of a power he barely understood. Adrenaline surged through Pag''s veins, overriding his initial shock and propelling him forward. He didn''t waste time trying to reason with the mob, didn¡¯t even look back to see if they were actually pursuing him. The guttural growl from the shadows was all the motivation he needed. He bolted, his feet pounding against the packed earth, branches whipping at his face. The shadowed forest seemed to close in around him, the fading light filtering through the canopy in a dizzying kaleidoscope of light and shadow. The air, thick with the scent of pine needles and damp earth, was suddenly heavy with the metallic tang of fear. Behind him, he could hear the shouts of the mob, their pursuit relentless. But it was the rasping breath, closer now, that sent chills down his spine. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw it¡ªa hulking shape, low to the ground, weaving between the trees with a speed that belied its size. It was reptilian, but unlike the figure who¡¯d condemned him. This creature was all muscle and teeth, its scales a mottled camouflage against the forest floor. A low growl rumbled in its chest, the sound primal, hungry. A flash of information, pulled from the depths of his gaming knowledge and the partial bestiary he had found for the game online, flickered through his mind. Soohanan Mauler - Apex predator, highly territorial, known to hunt in packs. He''d skimmed the information during character creation, intrigued by the creature''s description. Now, he wished he''d paid closer attention. Panic threatened to consume him, but he shoved it down, focusing on putting as much distance between himself and the predator as possible. He couldn''t outrun it, not in this terrain. He needed a plan, and fast. Pag¡¯s avatar slumped against a moss-covered boulder, the damp chill of the virtual forest seeping through his clothes. He ran a hand across his face, gritting his teeth as another notification blinked into existence. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. He angrily swiped it away. He didn¡¯t care about his appearance. All he cared about was escaping the relentless pursuit of the Soohanan Maulers. What had started as a simple complaint about the helmet¡¯s lack of exterior cameras had somehow spiraled into this ¨C hunted through a dense, unforgiving forest by creatures he barely understood. He''d just wanted to create his character, experience the game, find mark, not become some kind of virtual fugitive. Panic gnawed at him. He had no weapons, no armor, just the flimsy robe they¡¯d given him at the start. And now, thanks to his plummeting Hygieian Meter, he probably looked like something out of a nightmare. The memory of the character creation screen, the noxious purple smoke, and the wave of exhaustion that had followed, flashed through his mind. What had gone wrong? Had he done something to trigger this? Or was it just another example of the game''s needlessly complicated mechanics? He pushed himself to his feet, his virtual muscles protesting. He couldn¡¯t stay here, couldn¡¯t let them catch him. He had to find somewhere safe, somewhere to regroup, to figure out what the hell was going on. A growl echoed from the shadows, close now, too close. Adrenaline jolted him forward. He scrambled through the undergrowth, ignoring the thorns that tore at his clothes and skin, his eyes scanning the dense foliage for any sign of an escape. There! A narrow fissure in the rock face, nearly hidden by a curtain of vines. It wasn''t much, but it might be enough. He stumbled towards it, hope flickering like a fragile flame. He reached a wide fissure torn into the ground, his chest heaving, his lungs burning. He pressed himself against the cool rock, peering into the darkness. He could hear them now, their heavy footsteps pounding the earth, their guttural growls echoing through the trees. Desperation clawed at him. He had to do something, anything, to buy himself some time. He focused on the raw, chaotic energy that coursed through him, the energy that had brought him to this desperate situation. It was a power he didn¡¯t understand, a power that felt both alien and terrifyingly familiar. He thrust his hands towards the opening of the fissure, channeling the energy, letting it flow through him like a raging torrent. He didn¡¯t even know what he was doing, just reacting, driven by the primal urge to survive. A wave of heat slammed into him, nearly knocking him off his feet. A blinding light filled his vision, and the air itself seemed to crackle and pop. The sound of roaring flames filled his ears, drowning out everything else. Then, silence. He stumbled back from the fissure, his vision blurring, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him. He leaned heavily against the rock face, his heart pounding in his chest. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid stench of burnt flesh. A notification, stark and white against the fading light, flickered into existence before him. He stared at the notifications, a strange mixture of exhaustion, fear, and something else...something darker...surging through him. He didn¡¯t care about experience points or titles or quests. He just wanted out of this insane situation. He just wanted to go back to the beginning, to start over, to play the game without this relentless chaos. But as he stared at the smoldering remains of the Soohanan Mauler, a chilling thought pierced his exhaustion. He had no idea how to go back. He hesitated, his curiosity battling with his urge to dismiss the notification and focus on his immediate predicament. He had encountered the term "Hygieian Meter" before, during his initial character setup. It was listed on his character sheet alongside more familiar stats like Strength, Dexterity, and Intelligence. He had skimmed the brief description provided, but its meaning had remained somewhat unclear. Now, however, with the meter flashing warnings and his avatar undergoing unexplained changes, he felt a surge of urgency to understand its mechanics. He tapped the option "Yes," and a new window opened, revealing a more detailed explanation of the Hygieian Meter. As Pag read through the description, understanding dawned. The Hygieian Meter wasn¡¯t just some arbitrary stat; it was a reflection of his avatar''s mental and emotional state, intertwined with the mechanics of the game world. And his recent actions ¨C the fear, the panic, the sense of helplessness ¨C had clearly taken their toll. No wonder his character felt so off. He glanced down at his hands, expecting to see some outward sign of the meter''s decline. His fingers trembled slightly, but otherwise, they seemed unchanged. He flexed his hand, feeling the familiar weight of his gauntlets. He had acquired them from a sympathetic blacksmith after his initial, ill-fated encounter with the Maulers. Perhaps the changes were more subtle, affecting his demeanor or the way he interacted with NPCs rather than his physical appearance. He closed the Hygieian Meter window and took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. He couldn''t afford to succumb to panic. He had to find Mark, and he had to survive. And that meant understanding and managing this new, and somewhat unsettling, aspect of the game. His hands¡­ his hands were throbbing, the skin red and blistered. The pain was a dull ache, radiating up his arms, into his shoulders. But it was the other sensation that worried him¡ªa strange emptiness, a hollow ache that seemed to emanate from deep within his chest, as if he¡¯d poured not just magic, but a part of himself, into that fiery blast. Another notification, this one tinged with a sickly yellow, caught his eye. He closed his eyes, willing the notifications away. He needed to get out of here. Now. Pushing himself away from the rock face, he staggered towards the opening of the fissure. As he emerged into the dim light of the forest, he saw it¡ªthe carcass of the Soohanan, lying broken and smoldering on the forest floor. He averted his gaze, unable to stomach the sight. It wasn''t a game. Not anymore. It was real. The creature¡¯s pain, its death¡­ He¡¯d felt it, the moment his magic had ripped through it. Figurative Miles away, in the sterile, brightly lit confines of A.R. Gaming, Frank nearly choked on his coffee as a red alert flashed across his monitor. ¡°Holy hell, did you see that?¡± he exclaimed, spinning in his chair to face Sean, his eyes wide with disbelief. Sean, hunched over his keyboard, barely glanced up. ¡°Another newbie ate it in the tutorial? Told them we should increase the spawn rate of those healing herbs.¡± Frank shook his head, his gaze fixed on the screen. ¡°No, this is different. The newbie¡­ he just roasted a Soohanan Mauler. With pure magic. And not just any magic¡­ that looked a hell of a lot like...¡± He trailed off, a slow grin spreading across his face. ¡°This just got interesting.¡± season 0: chapter 4 The low hum of the servers was a constant presence in the developer''s room, a steady background noise that often faded into oblivion amidst the flurry of activity and caffeine-fueled coding sessions. But today, the hum seemed louder, more insistent, as if the very heart of Ludere Online was trying to warn them, to tell them something was wrong. Frank, his eyes gritty and burning from staring at lines of code for what felt like an eternity, leaned back in his chair, cracking his neck. The fluorescent lights above buzzed, casting a sterile glow over the cluttered workspace. He rubbed his temples, trying to massage away the burgeoning headache that throbbed in sync with the server hum. Across from him, Sean, the meticulous coding perfectionist of the team, meticulously organized his workspace, aligning his pens with an almost religious fervor. The rhythmic click of his keyboard punctuated the silence, a counterpoint to the hum of the servers that seemed to grow louder with each passing moment. "A Soohanan Mauler? In the tutorial area? That''s impossible. They don''t spawn there. Are you sure it wasn''t just a glitched-out boar or something?" Sean asked, his voice laced with disbelief. He finally tore his gaze away from his work, his interest piqued by the unexpected anomaly. Sean, despite his outward calmness, thrived on order and predictability. Glitches and unexpected events disrupted his carefully constructed world, forcing him to confront the possibility that things were not as they should be. ¡°Positive. I¡¯m looking at the kill cam now. It was a level 8 Soohanan, horns, glowing eyes, the whole nine yards,¡± Frank replied, his fingers dancing across the keyboard as he navigated through the game''s backend. The kill cam replayed on his monitor, showcasing Pag¡¯s encounter with the monstrous creature. The creature was undeniably a Soohanan Mauler, a high-level beast that should have been nowhere near the tutorial zone. ¡°And the magic he used¡­ that wasn¡¯t some basic cantrip. That looked like something straight out of the¡­ well, you know.¡± Frank continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he referred to a topic that was forbidden territory within the development team. Sean''s eyebrows shot up, a flicker of unease momentarily disrupting his carefully cultivated facade of nonchalance. "The Lazarus Project?" he asked, his voice hushed. The Lazarus Project, Dave¡¯s brainchild and the source of much whispered speculation among the development team, was shrouded in secrecy. The official line was that the Genesis Rocks, the revolutionary processors at the heart of Ludere Online, were simply capable of generating hyper-realistic environments and AI responses. But rumors circulated, whispers of strange occurrences, of blurred lines between the virtual and the real. Frank had tried to dismiss them as mere superstition, the product of overwork and sleep deprivation. But the events unfolding before his eyes were making it increasingly difficult to ignore the unsettling truth: something was wrong, something beyond their understanding. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. "I don''t know, Sean," Frank said, his voice heavy with apprehension. He scrubbed a hand over his face, already feeling the weight of another sleepless night settling upon him. "But something''s not right. This isn¡¯t just a glitch. It¡¯s¡­ like the game''s rewriting itself." A shiver ran down Sean''s spine. The idea of a game, their game, having a mind of its own, was unnerving, to say the least. He pushed the thought aside, focusing on the practicalities of the situation. "We need to alert Dave," he said, his voice tight with anxiety. "He needs to know about this. He needs to¡ª" "And tell him what, Sean?" Frank interrupted, his voice sharp with frustration. "That our game is possessed by some digital demon? He''ll shut the whole project down. We''ll all be out of jobs." "Better that than¡­ than whatever this is," Sean countered, gesturing towards the screen where the kill cam replayed the scene of Pag incinerating the Soohanan Mauler. The raw power displayed in that moment was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. Frank stared at the screen, a cold dread settling in his gut. He knew Sean was right. But the thought of their years of work, their dreams of creating a truly revolutionary gaming experience, going up in smoke was almost too much to bear. "There has to be another way," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the flickering images on the screen. "Maybe we can contain it," Sean suggested, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Isolate the affected code, quarantine the player¡­" A heavy silence descended upon the room. The implications of Frank¡¯s words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. The possibility that something beyond their control, something beyond their understanding, was influencing their game was a terrifying thought. Breaking the silence, Ian spoke, his voice barely a whisper. ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­ it could be the Genesis Rocks, do you? I mean, we know Dave''s been experimenting with them, trying to¡­¡± "I don''t know what to think anymore," Frank admitted, running a hand through his already-disheveled hair. "But we need to get to the bottom of this. And we need to do it quietly." The three developers exchanged uneasy glances. They were walking a tightrope, balancing their desire to understand and contain the growing anomalies within Ludere Online with their fear of alerting Dave and risking the entire project''s future. "For now, we observe," Frank said, his voice firm despite the tremor of apprehension that ran through him. "We monitor the player, analyze the code, and try to figure out what the hell is going on." He leaned forward, the light from the desk lamp momentarily illuminating his face, revealing a chilling intensity in his eyes. "Now, tell me what you know." season 0: chapter 5 Player PillowHorror, in the regal reptilian form of a Consul clad in robes of silver and ebony, met with Ikit. The messenger bowed low, his small form nearly disappearing in the folds of his own humble tunic. Only when PillowHorror flicked his tail in a measured, hierarchical gesture of permission did Ikit straighten, his eyes darting nervously to meet the Consul''s. The Lunar Empire thrived on such strict protocol. PillowHorror, unlike so many other players, found it exhilarating. To truly embody a role, to think and act within the intricate web of custom and consequence - that was where the true thrill of Ludere Online lay. Far too many players charged in with blunt force and predictable tactics. A bit of finesse, a touch of cunning, a deep understanding of the subtle dance of power - that was what it took to master the game. A series of translucent windows materialized before PillowHorror''s eyes, displaying his current character stats: Player Name:PillowHorror Level: 42 Class: Preator Subclass: Advisor Profession: Advisor Specialization: None Currently Active Title: Consul Most used Skill: Intimidation Alignment: Despicable Health: 250/250 [R:10] Mana: 600/600 [R:10] Stamina: 100/100 [R:11] Points Earned: 0 Reputation: Soohan: -660 Lunar Empire: 8450 Draggor: -1400 Red Fox Caravan: 5 (Neutral) Attributes: Strength:12 Constitution:20 Dexterity:51 Intelligence:20 Wisdom:60 Charisma:65 Piety:40 Luck:10 Karma:-5 Combat: Attack:30 Accuracy: 25 Agility:35 Speed:25 Critical: 8.82 Endurance:10 Focus: 20 Defense: 30 Magic Def:55 Armor: 9 Hygieian Meter: 400 Active Status Effects: Comfortable His mana bar, once depleted, now shimmered with a full charge. Good. The recent system update had implemented changes that went far deeper than he had anticipated. The annoying "Points: 0" reminder that used to plague his character sheet had vanished, replaced by a discreet slot within the in-game shop that displayed his remaining character points. A small but significant detail that spoke volumes about the developers'' evolving understanding of the game. They were learning, adapting, becoming more adept at catering to the needs of the elite Group C players. A subtle smile touched PillowHorror''s lips. They were playing his game now. With a flick of his claw, he activated the ''Ping'' skill: < Skill Activation > >Ping - Quality: Adept< The results were promising, but PillowHorror''s attention was immediately drawn to a disturbance near the Consul''s position. The Emprinceling, scales gleaming and head held high, had positioned himself close to the Consul, his leg resting precariously on a crenelation as if to emphasize his self-importance. An unwelcome distraction. PillowHorror could tolerate a certain level of incompetence, but this blatant disregard for protocol, this disruption of his carefully crafted narrative, was simply unacceptable. ¡°Very well,¡± PillowHorror thought, a sly glint entering his reptilian eyes. ¡°If the princeling insists on inserting himself into the story, then I shall make him a part of it.¡± The ''Ping'' skill updated, its translucent windows now displaying detailed troop movements: expected positions, arrival times ticking down in seconds, troop emplacements highlighted with a wealth of military information - tactics, troop counts, equipment levels, even the average threat index. It was lower than PillowHorror had hoped, but there was always a way to elevate the stakes. This minor skirmish was merely a prelude, a chance to test the waters before unleashing the full force of his strategic brilliance. A new thought struck him. Was this the only impending threat? A quick check wouldn''t hurt. It would cost a bit of mana, but the expenditure was a small price to pay for comprehensive awareness. < Skill Activation > >War Theatre Visualization - Quality: Adept< His mana expenditure surged, a drain he mentally noted for future feedback to the developers. Balancing was clearly needed, but that was a concern for another time. A new map unfolded before him, pushing his existing screens to the periphery. The segmented world map highlighted regions currently embroiled in Lunar Empire war activity. Selecting the local theatre, PillowHorror focused on the seemingly dull skirmish, his brow rising in surprise as a new layer of complexity revealed itself. The Consul, as if in deep concentration, moved his claws in a mesmerizing dance, a display that further impressed the image of a high-level magic user upon both allies and enemies. The Legates watched with a mixture of fascination and trepidation. To witness a Consul at work was to glimpse the raw power of the Lunar Empire''s arcane might. And then the world shifted. < Ding > >¡°Schwerer Gustav¡±< The air thrummed with a power that seemed to emanate from the very core of the planet. High above the battlefield, the sky tore open, a jagged rent in the fabric of reality that pulsed with a swirling darkness. From the depths of that abyss emerged a colossal machine, its form defying description, its presence radiating a terror that froze the hearts of both attacker and defender. The monstrous tube atop the machine swung towards the oncoming force, its metal skin screaming a promise of annihilation. PillowHorror, savoring the reactions of those around him, activated yet another skill: < Skill Activation > >The Art of War - Quality: Sage< His mana expenditure climbed even higher, but a satisfied smile played across his lips. He was a master of the game, manipulating its mechanics, orchestrating a symphony of chaos and destruction. The Consul, his tail rising in a gesture of command, directed the unknowable machine, his actions a testament to his mastery of the game''s most arcane and powerful abilities. Horror had spent days trying to persuade the Emperor. With the Empress''s assistance no less! That they should establish a new capital. Somewhere away from overcrowded conditions. The vapid fool would not be swayed, content with where his scaled hide currently sat clinging to tradition and claiming that his nearness held the empire together. Horror shook his head with disappointment. The Emperor and Emprince were two peas in a pod. It would be easier to complete his main quest if they did move the capital. No matter. It wasn¡¯t necessary. He would find his own way, as he always did. For now, he needed to deal with the matter at hand. With a deep inhalation to savor the fresh air coming from the forest, he savored the moment. The breeze outside on the castle walls sharply contrasted the dense staleness of the catacombs beneath. How odd that he so frequently preferred the latter, when this was available. Glancing down through the translucent screen visible only to him, his gaze shifted focus towards the amassing enemy army. Sizable forces indeed! How he appreciated a predictable opponent. They were even trying to pull a play directly from one of his favorite books. How cute. When planning a siege, bring a force great in number. When the terrain is unfavorable -and you expect envenomed arrows from above- pack troops tightly in a tortoise formation. With their shields up, Horror watched the multitudes of packed enemies cautiously approach. They even had little siege machines. Absolutely adorable. There was no reason to be hasty. First, discerning the battlefield. A soft feminine voice chimed in his ear. Present for only him to perceive as a list of skills fired off one after the other. He so enjoyed hearing the skill system speak. It always meant good tides were coming. He honestly couldn''t understand why no one else turned this setting on. < Skill Activation > >LAT: Local Area Tactics - Quality: Adept< Updating once more, the troop movements now detailed expected positions. Complete with lines of likely arrival times that counted down in seconds. Troop emplacements passively highlighted, showing a plethora of military information. Such as: The currently used tactic, troop counts, equipment levels, and average threat index. It was lower than he¡¯d hoped, but very well. Surely the next movement of troops they sent out would be more of a challenge after this. It¡¯s not like he needed the experience points but the challenge would be nice. Horror tapped his mouth with the still-steepled fingers. Was this the only impending threat? Best to spend the extra energy for a cursory check. It was a touch costly, but his energy bar would recover. It simply meant that during expected upcoming complications, he would have to rely on more¡­ mundane solutions. Screens swapped places, the Alpha shop once again front and center. Ticking in a long code, Horror felt a wry smile wrench itself onto his face. No search results automatically came up, but that was to be expected. Once he finished adding information into the search bar, still no results showed. Without concern, he pressed the search button anyway. Confident that he¡¯d gotten it right. Sure enough. His favorite, soft feminine voice welcomed him with success. < Ding > <¡°Schwerer Gustav¡±> A confirmation screen formed, even if the detail fields of what he was renting failed to populate entirely. The system didn¡¯t seem to have slated information on the purchase. It existed in the files and, therefore, worked. An item code was present, and that was enough. Horror pressed the accept prompt. Satisfied the devs still hadn¡¯t patched this out, he folded his arms behind the small of his back. He knew what was coming as the system worked to catch up. To both the advancing onlookers and friendly troops on the wall, the Consul had made some strange motions in deep concentration, further impressing the image of a high-level magic-user upon all those witnessing. His claws had waxed and weaved through the air. The Legates in charge remained silent, even as their serpentine gazes watched with studious interest. It was always fascinating and strange to watch a Consul work. < Ding > >¡°Schwerer Gustav¡±< The air rumbled. Had it been a quake beneath their feet, both attackers and defenders would have felt it with their legs. Instead, they felt the thrumming distortion with their hearts. A crack in space loudly formed high above the Consul. Horrible and unknown, a shrill screech pierced the sky. The spreading tear darkened with visual churning twists, like the doldrums of the deepest sea. A machination neither side knew how to describe powerfully chugged free from the formless, broken space. The heaving eldritch mass was topped with an impossibly long tube. With terrorizing metal screams, that tube turned towards the oncoming force. < Skill Activation > >The Art of War - Quality: Sage< Pleased with the frightened and confused reactions of those around him. He remained silent as his mana expenditure increased to thirteen per second. He reminded himself that he saved a fifth of those costs, due to having a 20 in his Water Skill. The system simply didn¡¯t show it yet. Horror¡¯s tail rose into the air. Those who could see him observed the Consul demand service from the unknowable thing that broke the sky above. He didn¡¯t see them. From Horror¡¯s perspective, new screens assisted with mass-effect targeting solutions. Giving the order, the prehensile end of it sharply snapped towards the opposing force. ¡°Fire.¡± *Cha-clunk.* Something in the metal monstrosity moved. It was felt, rather than heard. The tube altered with decisiveness previously unseen. Perfectly angling towards the supposedly well-hidden encampment. Regardless of which side of the firing line one stood, dread-filled all the space their hearts could hold. Gustav barged into that void unopposed. Unstoppable and shot in a straight line, the thundering crack of a launched shell sounded. Dread became reality upon impact, and the battlefield became a wasteland with a deafening *BOOM.* Ears rang, and hearts raced. Hands and claws ineffectually covered ruptured auditory channels, while knees sunk to the ground as morale plummeted. The shrapnel of Gustav¡¯s explosive round rocked the landscape. Tearing brand-new canyons through the local landmass. A camp of thousands was reduced to nothing in a burning flash. The only word that rang across the fields after the ripples settled was an unforgiving encore. ¡°Fire.¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.*Cha-clunk.* The machination¡¯s cannon steamed hot from that initial shot. It groaned in complaint, but the rental summon could not oppose the order. Doing as commanded. Swiveling the death-bringer to the new firing solution, it obeyed. Firing once more with another soul-wrenching clap of thunder. *BOOM.* Troops on both sides fled. They didn¡¯t know what else to do. This skirmish was over. There was only the fate that the Consul rained from above, as a cluster shell split and carpet-bombed the landscape in front of the aged castle walls. Some of the mini-shells missed, and a chunk of nearby wall went with it. The Emprince, having thought himself too invulnerable to run. Was no more. Horror considered the friendly fire to be acceptable, even if it incurred what some would consider to be some unfortunate losses. He noted that one, perhaps two, of the local Legate commanders still had the strength of soul to speak to him. No doubt to dissuade him from further action. They didn¡¯t understand why this was necessary. They didn¡¯t grasp why total annihilation was how this piece of history needed to be remembered. One of the Legates shivered in his approach, tail low and curled between the legs in deference. He was cut short before ever being able to speak. Horror towered with a looming presence and leered down. The Legate had not been given permission to voice his opinion. Sustaining unyielding eye contact with the frozen commander, Horror¡¯s only comment to the forgetful Legate rumbled as a dismissive: ¡°Fire.¡± *Cha-clunk.* The Legate leapt for cover. His claws clamped to his helmet, just to pull it down over his eyes. Huddled behind the remaining crenelations, the Legate did not see the second shrapnel shell wildly pepper and pulverize the remaining forces. After the machination clapped as thunder for a third time. He did, however, feel the blowback of air displacements and heart-rending distortions. The Legate steeled himself. Ground quaking from the expected, fear-inducing *BOOM.* The Schwerer Gustav let out a shrill whistle as its condition reached critical. Horror wished to fire it for a fourth time regardless but failed. His screens all dropped away as his mana bar hit rock bottom. It flashed at him with an upset pulsing red. Since his mana had reached zero, he incurred the relevant penalty and started losing health at a rate of one per second. *Tsk.* The weapon in the sky glowed orange-red from overuse while flames licked the muzzle. A shame. He would have loved to shell the remaining not-completely-destroyed encampment, but that wasn¡¯t happening without a guaranteed firing solution. The system calculated missed chances in a way that wasn¡¯t to his liking. If he couldn¡¯t be certain of what that shell was going to destroy, it wasn¡¯t worth the risk. Not that it mattered at this point. The notification came in. < Ding > With a metallic screech and churn of the wheels, the Gustav rolled forwards into another doldrum of the dark. Chugging along upon invisible train tracks with barrel still burning, it faded back out of existence. When it finally left, the air equalized once more. Returning the current, awful, tide-twisted sky to normality. Horror¡¯s remaining screens winked out as he dismissed them. Their tasks finished. He could tell, since the experience points were rolling in. As expected, it wasn¡¯t anything to look at twice. That didn¡¯t matter. The greater objective had been fulfilled. He dismissed the thirty to sixty health he was going to lose until his mana bar ticked, regenerating twenty points. He¡¯d get the health back quick enough with passive regeneration now that all hostiles were dealt with, and the mana was too valuable to spend on healing. Two more minutes of overseeing the battlefield, and he¡¯d gathered enough intelligence to decide on his next move. A new notification blinked into existence, a message from the developers themselves, their curiosity piqued by his audacious actions. A validation of his skills, a recognition of his ability to push the game to its limits. With a mental note to respond later, PillowHorror dismissed the message. He had a meeting to attend, a narrative to shape, a game to win. Stepping into the swirling currents of the Tide, he vanished from the battlefield, leaving behind a scene of utter devastation and awestruck silence. As the swirling currents of the Tide receded, PillowHorror found himself standing once again upon the ramparts of the Sunken Cathedral. The air, still crackling with residual energy from the deployment of the Schwerer Gustav, carried the scent of ozone and scorched earth. Below, the battlefield was a scene of utter chaos. Lunar Empire forces, their ranks thrown into disarray by the unexpected arrival of the colossal weapon, struggled to regroup. The attacking forces, decimated by the Gustav¡¯s devastating barrage, were in full retreat, their cries of terror echoing across the shattered landscape. The princeling, his composure shattered, stared at the devastation below with wide, uncomprehending eyes. His leg, once casually draped over the crenelation, now trembled uncontrollably. The image of arrogant confidence he had so carefully cultivated lay in ruins, mirroring the battlefield below. ¡°Magnificent, isn''t it?¡± PillowHorror purred, his reptilian features contorted in a mockery of a smile. ¡°A demonstration of true power. A taste of what is to come.¡± The princeling, unable to meet his gaze, stammered a weak reply, his voice barely audible above the din of the retreating army. ¡°But... the protocols... the chain of command...¡± PillowHorror¡¯s smile widened, revealing rows of sharp, predatory teeth. ¡°Protocols are for the weak, princeling. True power recognizes no constraints.¡± He let the words hang in the air, savoring the princeling¡¯s discomfort. This was just the beginning. He had plans within plans, schemes that would unravel the very fabric of Ludere Online. The developers, those arrogant architects of this virtual world, had underestimated him. They had given him the tools, the access, the freedom he needed to reshape their creation in his image. With a flick of his tail, PillowHorror turned away from the sputtering princeling and surveyed the battlefield below. The Art of War skill, still active, highlighted strategic opportunities, tactical weaknesses, potential vulnerabilities. It was time to capitalize on the chaos he had created, to consolidate his power, to shape the narrative to his will. The front lines, finally subdued, beckoned him with the promise of victory. He would revel in the chaos a moment longer, savoring the taste of his triumph before moving on to the next stage of his grand design. The currents of the Tide deposited PillowHorror back on the familiar stone floor of the Sunken Cathedral''s main hall. The air, still vibrating from the deployment of the Schwerer Gustav, hung heavy with the metallic tang of ozone and the acrid bite of scorched earth. The chamber, once bustling with activity, was now eerily silent. Only the rhythmic drip of water from the vaulted ceiling punctuated the stillness. Below, visible through the arched windows that lined the hall, the battlefield lay in smoldering ruin. Lunar Empire forces, their initial confusion giving way to disciplined efficiency, were already moving to secure the perimeter, their movements precise and coordinated. The attacking army, shattered and demoralized, had vanished beyond the horizon, leaving behind only the detritus of their failed assault. The princeling, still reeling from the display of overwhelming force, stood frozen near the Consul''s position on the dais. His once-proud posture had slumped, his scales, no longer gleaming with youthful arrogance, seemed dull and lifeless in the muted light filtering through the stained-glass windows. He stared at the devastation below, his eyes wide and unfocused, his mouth agape in a silent scream of disbelief. "Quite a spectacle, wasn''t it?" PillowHorror purred, approaching the princeling with a measured, reptilian grace. He savored the princeling''s unease, the palpable shift in power dynamics that hung in the air like a suffocating fog. The princeling, startled by the Consul''s sudden proximity, flinched, his gaze darting nervously between the Consul''s impassive face and the carnage below. His voice, when he finally spoke, was a choked whisper, devoid of its usual bravado. "But...the protocols... the chain of command..." he stammered, his words disintegrating into incoherent mumbling. PillowHorror chuckled, a low, guttural sound that echoed through the silent hall. "Protocols are for those who lack imagination, princeling," he replied, his voice laced with amusement. "True power knows no bounds." He let the words hang in the air, allowing them to sink into the princeling''s consciousness like venomous barbs. The princeling, his face pale, his eyes downcast, offered no reply. The lesson, PillowHorror knew, had been delivered. He had subtly, but effectively, dismantled the princeling''s carefully constructed facade of authority, revealing the fragile insecurity that lay beneath. Turning away from the subdued princeling, PillowHorror approached one of the arched windows and gazed out at the ravaged landscape. His reptilian eyes, gleaming with an unholy light, scanned the battlefield, noting the strategic opportunities that lay amidst the chaos. The Art of War skill, still active, highlighted key locations, potential flanking maneuvers, vulnerable supply lines. PillowHorror turned from the window and strode towards the center of the hall, his heavy tail trailing behind him like a sinuous shadow. The Art of War skill continued to analyze the battlefield data, its complex algorithms processing the ever-shifting variables of the conflict. The information, displayed as a series of holographic overlays projected onto his vision, provided him with a comprehensive overview of the situation: troop movements, terrain advantages, potential choke points, estimated enemy morale. He paused, considering his options. The princeling, still standing near the dais, watched him with a mixture of fear and fascination. PillowHorror ignored him, his attention focused on the intricate tapestry of the battlefield unfolding below. The initial objectives of the assault had been achieved. The Schwerer Gustav, deployed in a calculated act of defiance, had shattered the enemy''s lines and demoralized their troops. The princeling''s authority had been undermined, his carefully constructed facade of command shattered by PillowHorror''s display of overwhelming power. The stage was set for the next phase of his plan. ¡°Inform the surviving legions to begin mop-up operations,¡± PillowHorror commanded, his voice echoing through the silent hall. ¡°No prisoners. I want every trace of the enemy presence eradicated.¡± A ripple of energy emanated from him, carrying his orders through the intricate network of communication channels that linked the members of the Lunar Empire. The princeling flinched, his scales paling further at the Consul''s ruthlessness. PillowHorror savored the moment, the sense of control that coursed through him. He had orchestrated this chaos, had manipulated events to his advantage, had demonstrated the true nature of power within this virtual world. The developers, those self-proclaimed gods of Ludere Online, had underestimated him. They had given him the tools, the access, the freedom he needed to reshape their creation in his image. PillowHorror turned from the battlefield and surveyed the remnants of the council meeting. The council members, their faces a mixture of awe and apprehension, had gathered near the back of the hall, their usual boisterous chatter silenced by the Consul¡¯s display of power. PillowHorror ignored them, their petty squabbles and political maneuvering held no interest for him. He had greater ambitions, goals that transcended the confines of their limited worldview. ¡°My duties call elsewhere,¡± PillowHorror announced, his voice echoing through the hall. ¡°See to the defense of the city. Reinforce the perimeter. And prepare for the inevitable counterattack.¡± He paused, letting his words sink in. ¡°And as for you, princeling,¡± he addressed the trembling figure still standing near the dais, ¡°I suggest you find a more¡­ suitable¡­ position within the ranks. Your talents lie elsewhere. Perhaps in the royal kitchens?¡± With a final, dismissive flick of his tail, PillowHorror stepped towards the center of the hall, the currents of the Tide swirling around him. The council members parted before him, their eyes wide with fear and respect, their whispers trailing in his wake. ¡°Where are you going, Consul?¡± one of the council members dared to ask, his voice trembling. PillowHorror paused, turning his head slightly to address the questioner. His reptilian eyes, gleaming with an unholy light, seemed to pierce through the council member¡¯s carefully constructed facade of authority. ¡°My plans are my own,¡± he replied, his voice cold and sharp. ¡°It is not your place to question them.¡± And with that, he vanished, swallowed by the swirling currents of the Tide, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than the weight of the submerged city above. PillowHorror materialized within a secluded chamber deep within the Sunken City. The chamber, carved from black obsidian and illuminated by pulsating bioluminescent fungi, served as his private sanctum, a place where he could strategize and plan without the distractions of the Lunar Empire''s court. The Art of War skill, still active, projected holographic data streams onto the chamber walls, displaying a real-time analysis of the unfolding events in the game. He studied the information, his reptilian eyes scanning the data streams, noting troop movements, resource allocations, and potential vulnerabilities. The deployment of the Schwerer Gustav had been a calculated risk, a demonstration of power designed to shock and awe both his allies and enemies. It had been a gamble, a blatant violation of the game¡¯s protocols that could have triggered unwanted attention from the developers. But the risk, PillowHorror believed, had paid off. He had solidified his position within the Lunar Empire, had sown fear and uncertainty among his rivals, and had gained valuable insights into the game''s mechanics. He was no longer content to simply play the game. He wanted to master it, to bend it to his will, to reshape it in his own image. The developers had underestimated him. They had given him the tools, the access, the freedom he needed to exploit their creation, to unravel the very fabric of Ludere Online. PillowHorror turned from the data streams and approached a massive obsidian table in the center of the chamber. Spread across the table''s surface was a detailed map of the game world, its intricate details illuminated by the pulsating glow of the fungi. He traced his claws across the map, his gaze lingering on the sprawling territory of the Soohanan kingdom, his next target. The Soohanan people, renowned for their resilience and adaptability, posed a significant challenge. Their defenses were strong, their warriors fierce, and their magic rooted in the ancient traditions of their land. But PillowHorror relished a challenge. He would break them, would bend them to his will, would add their strength to his growing dominion. He tapped a claw on a specific location on the map, a strategic choke point that guarded the entrance to the Soohanan heartland. Control of this location would give him a decisive advantage, would cripple their defenses, and would open the door to a swift and decisive victory. "Yes," PillowHorror murmured, a predatory smile spreading across his reptilian features, "the time has come to unleash the Pale Tide upon the Soohanan kingdom." PillowHorror, alone in his private chamber, smiled, a slow, predatory grin that spread across his reptilian features like a crack in a carefully crafted mask. He was no longer simply playing Ludere Online. He was shaping it, molding it to his will, pushing the boundaries of the game¡¯s code and the developers¡¯ intentions. He was a force of chaos, an agent of disruption, and he reveled in the fear and uncertainty he had sown within the virtual world. His ambition, however, extended far beyond the petty squabbles of the Lunar Empire or the conquest of rival kingdoms. He had glimpsed the true potential of Ludere Online, a potential that lay dormant within the intricate network of code and algorithms that governed the game''s reality. The developers had created a world, but they had also created the tools for its destruction. And PillowHorror intended to use those tools to their fullest extent. He turned from the map of the Soohanan kingdom, his gaze drawn to a small, unassuming object that rested on a pedestal in the corner of the chamber. It was a fragment of the Genesis Rock, a shard of the artifact that held the core programming of Ludere Online. He had obtained it through a series of daring exploits, pushing the limits of the game¡¯s mechanics, exploiting vulnerabilities in the code, manipulating events to his advantage. It was a dangerous artifact, a source of immense power that could, in the wrong hands, unravel the very fabric of the virtual world. PillowHorror reached out, his claws tracing the smooth, pulsating surface of the Genesis Rock fragment. It hummed with a faint energy, a resonance that he could feel deep within his avatar''s core. It was a power he was only beginning to understand, a power that promised to elevate him beyond the limitations of a mere player. A new plan began to form in his mind, a plan so audacious, so dangerous, that even he hesitated to fully embrace its implications. With a few tweaks of his former plans things would play out quite nicely. season 0: chapter 6 The developer''s room, usually abuzz with creative energy, was shrouded in a palpable tension. Frank, his eyes bloodshot from another all-nighter, stared at the lines of code scrolling across his monitor. Fatigue tugged at him, but a deeper unease kept him glued to his seat. The air hung heavy with the unspoken threat of Dave¡¯s impending wrath. Behind him, Jason paced like a caged animal, his anxiety bleeding into the room. "The server''s acting up again," Jason exclaimed, his voice cracking with frustration. "I swear I saw... a spike in energy output from the Genesis Rock matrix. And the logs... Exile''s activity... it''s off the charts!" Sean, at his own workstation, seemed almost amused by the growing panic. He tapped a pen against his desk, the rhythmic click a counterpoint to the symphony of server hums and keyboard clicks. "He''s not just playing the game anymore," Frank muttered, his voice barely audible above the electronic symphony. "He''s trying to rewrite it." Frank exchanged a worried look with Ian, the youngest of the developers, who sat frozen, his eyes wide with fear. Sean, however, leaned back in his chair, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "This is where it gets interesting," he said, his voice laced with a dark amusement. "Let''s see what our friend PillowHorror can do." A sharp rap on the door cut through the tense silence. Dave, his imposing figure filling the doorway, stood with an air of controlled authority. "Gentlemen," he said, his voice smooth, yet edged with a chilling sharpness, "A word, if you please." Fear coiled in Sean¡¯s gut. Dave''s gaze seemed to pierce through him, stripping away his carefully crafted facade. He followed Frank into Dave¡¯s office, the weight of his recent manipulations ¨C his little ¡°experiments¡± with the game''s mechanics ¨C pressing down on him. Inside the office, Dave¡¯s fingers drummed a steady rhythm against his desk, each tap like a hammer blow against Sean¡¯s already frayed nerves. "I¡¯ve been reviewing the latest beta test data,¡± Dave continued, his voice betraying no hint of his inner turmoil. ¡°Some¡­ interesting anomalies have cropped up.¡± ¡°Anomalies, sir?¡± Sean echoed, trying to maintain a facade of ignorance. ¡°Yes, anomalies," Dave repeated, his voice hardening. ¡°Unusual spikes in player affinity levels. Unforeseen interactions with the game environment.¡± He leaned forward, his eyes boring into Sean. ¡°Now, tell me what you know.¡± Sean¡¯s mind raced. He couldn¡¯t confess to his manipulations. But he also couldn¡¯t deny his knowledge. He was trapped, caught between the consequences of honesty and deception. Sean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the leather creaking under the weight of his anxiety. Dave''s gaze was unwavering, a laser beam focused on exposing the truth. He had to say something, to offer some explanation for the chaos unfolding within Ludere Online. But how could he confess to his role, to his deliberate manipulation of the game''s mechanics, without triggering Dave''s wrath? "Sir, I... I may have been experimenting with some of the game''s parameters," he stammered, choosing his words carefully, trying to downplay the extent of his actions. "Just minor tweaks, you understand. Trying to optimize player engagement, create a more dynamic experience." Dave¡¯s expression remained unchanged, but a muscle twitched in his jaw, a telltale sign of his growing displeasure. "Minor tweaks?" he repeated, his voice dangerously calm. "Tweaks that have resulted in unprecedented power levels, unforeseen exploits, and a fundamental shift in the balance of the game?" This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Sean''s heart hammered against his ribs. Dave knew. He may not have all the details, but he knew enough. Sean''s carefully constructed facade was crumbling. He took a deep breath, deciding to gamble on a partial confession, a calculated risk to mitigate the damage. "Sir, I admit, some of my¡­ optimizations¡­ may have had unintended consequences. But I assure you, it was all done with the best intentions. I was simply trying to make Ludere Online the best it could be.¡± Dave¡¯s gaze remained fixed on Sean, the silence stretching on, a palpable tension filling the room. Finally, Dave spoke, his voice low and measured. "Sean, Ludere Online is more than just a game. It''s a complex ecosystem, a delicate balance of code and algorithms that we are only beginning to understand.¡± "The Genesis Rock matrix," Dave continued, his voice taking on a lecturing tone, "is the foundation of Ludere Online. It''s the source code, the blueprint, the very essence of the game world. And it''s far more complex, far more sensitive, than you seem to realize.¡± Sean nodded, trying to appear attentive, while internally cringing at Dave¡¯s lecture. He knew about the Genesis Rock. He knew about its importance. He just hadn¡¯t anticipated the extent of its influence, the delicate balance it maintained within the game. ¡°Your ¡®minor tweaks,¡¯¡± Dave continued, his fingers tapping a staccato rhythm against his desk, ¡°have created ripples within the matrix. Ripples that could destabilize the entire game, compromise the integrity of the beta test, and jeopardize our launch date.¡± Fear constricted Sean¡¯s chest. He hadn¡¯t considered the wider implications of his actions. He had been so focused on pushing the boundaries of the game, on exploring its potential, that he had overlooked the potential consequences. ¡°The AIs are already reacting,¡± Dave continued, his voice low and grave. ¡°Their behavior is becoming increasingly unpredictable, their decision-making processes skewed. And player activity¡­ well, let''s just say we¡¯re seeing trends we never anticipated." Sean swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Dave¡¯s words confirmed his worst fears. The game was slipping out of control. And he was to blame. ¡°Sean, I¡¯m putting you on probation,¡± Dave said, his voice firm, brooking no argument. ¡°No more ¡®optimizations,¡¯ no more ¡®tweaks,¡¯ no more unauthorized access to the Genesis Rock matrix. Do you understand?¡± Sean nodded mutely, relief washing over him. Dave wasn¡¯t firing him. At least not yet. But the warning was clear. One more misstep, one more unauthorized experiment, and his career at Alluring Realms Games would be over. Sean returned to the developer''s room, the weight of Dave''s warning heavy on his shoulders. The playful gleam in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a flicker of doubt, a hint of fear. He had always enjoyed pushing the boundaries, testing the limits of the game''s mechanics. But now, faced with the potential consequences of his actions, a wave of regret washed over him. Frank and Ian watched him closely, their expressions a mix of concern and apprehension. They had witnessed Dave''s displeasure firsthand, had felt the chill of his controlled anger. They knew that Sean''s probation was a precarious lifeline, a last chance to redeem himself. "Well?" Frank asked, his voice low, breaking the tense silence. "What did Dave say?" Sean hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. He couldn''t confess to the full extent of his manipulations, couldn''t admit to his role in PillowHorror''s rise to power. But he also couldn''t keep everything bottled up. He needed to confide in someone, to share the burden of his guilt. He took a deep breath and offered a carefully edited version of the truth. "Dave¡¯s not happy," he said, his voice tight. "He knows about the¡­ anomalies¡­ in the game." "Anomalies?" Ian echoed, his brow furrowed in confusion. "He thinks it''s a bug," Sean continued, choosing his words carefully. "A glitch in the code. He''s ordered a full system diagnostic, wants us to identify and fix the problem ASAP." Frank and Ian exchanged a nervous glance. They knew that Sean was downplaying the situation, but they also knew that pressing him for details would be unwise. Dave¡¯s warning was still ringing in their ears. season 0: chapter 7 Pag sighed, leaning against a massive tree as he slid down to a sitting position. He had been walking for what felt like several hours and everything hurt. Things he didn¡¯t know could hurt much less from walking, hurt. He just had to find a safe area, but he was stuck fighting off well camouflaged snakes, angry birds that came hurtling at him from nowhere and giant centipedes that seemed to believe he was food. Which he most certainly wasn¡¯t. All while wading through foliage in humidity that was thick enough you almost had to chew it to breathe. Then again that may just be all the flying insects that seemed to want to make his mouth their new home. When would they learn, it¡¯s not free real estate? The thought that he should just log off, and try again tomorrow, had passed his mind at least a dozen times but he was determined to at least make it to a town or city to set a new spawn point before calling it quits. He had never been so frustrated with a game from the moment he had booted it up. He couldn¡¯t believe he had been shunted from the tutorial, purposefully or not, only to be chased out of his starting zone. How was he supposed to get started on his character now? With a rising sense of irritation he slapped at the leaves of the underbrush around him. Things had not gone well for him, even before he logged in. Had he adjusted something wrong or caused a glitch when he was customizing his settings? The forest around him fell silent after a sudden air-rending shrill sending a chill down his spine. Whatever it was, it likely wasn''t good. Should he stay where he was, or hide or run? The moments drug by with no changes, and silence stretched on around him. He slowly stood, his head swiveling to look all around as he did and he felt kind of foolish given he couldn¡¯t see more than a few feet in front of him in any given direction thanks to the plant life. Except there, to his left. It almost looked like a break in the leaves. He waited, straining to hear anything as he held his breath. Still, nothing happened. With a deep breath he slowly took a few steps forward before sprinting towards what looked to be a clearing that was barely visible between the densely packed trees. A deep rumbling shook the ground beneath his feet, and he stumbled at the sound of a thunderclap that reverberated deep within his chest like the time he had went to watch fireworks out on the lake and had been swimming when the first of them were shot off a floating barge. He landed hard against a tree, his foot having snagged on some detritus when he had looked up through the canopy for a better look at the sky. Odd streamers of darkness had filtered through the deep cerulean of the sky, distorted cracks seeming to follow in their wake. Pag blinked as a brilliant light suddenly exploding across the area. His screen faded to black, and white text floated forwards. Pag cursed, remembering the warning the angry mob had given him then blinked at the suddenly drastically different environment, panic still rising in the back of his throat. The re-spawn notification had said he would be sent back to his faction''s main capital. He had unpleasantly been told that if he went there, they¡¯d kill him on sight until he had died ten times. If he remembered right you lost experience on death, could you drop to negative experience points? He swung his head around the darkened street. This did not look like the city he had started in and he didn¡¯t think that the city could change this drastically from one district to another. Seeing no one, he dove into a narrow alley. ¡°I¡¯ve got to find the fastest route out of here, wherever here is.¡± He muttered and gestured to bring up the map. His mind came to a sudden halt as he stared at his location. Somehow he was no longer in the Kingdom of Soohan? Now he was in the Kingdom of Draggor which looked to be on the other side of the continent. He glanced over and saw that he still held the title ¡®Enemy of Soohan¡¯. Maybe his spawn point was automatically changed because of the title? A small box popped up to his left and he glanced over. >Player ProlixalParagon wishes to trade with you, do you accept?< >Yes Pag blinked and looked up. Letting out a high pitched shriek as he registered the form squatting eye level with him on a barrel, having seemingly appeared out of thin air. The other player slowly blinked eyes like molten silver back at him like it was some kind of greeting. Pure white fur with veins of black marbling covered the vulpine form, their ears twitching slightly at the sudden loud noise. They gave him a slight wave and calmly gestured to the dialog box with what he took to be a smile. They couldn¡¯t see it he knew, but as another player, knew where it would populate. ¡°Oh, uh. I have nothing to trade. Sorry.¡± Pag muttered sheepishly. ProlixalParagon rolled their eyes, shaking their head as they tugged at their own leather armor with a leather gloved hand before they pointed at him. Pag glanced down, not sure what he was supposed to be seeing. Then he realized that all he wore was the makeshift underwear his character had from the customization process. Had he even started with basic clothing or had it been destroyed when he died? Heat prickled along his skin, and he was glad for the darkness. He tapped the yes button, and a new window opened. With a few gestures, ProlixalParagon dropped a few items into their window. Then finalized their end, waving at Pag to do the same with a toothy grin. He accepted the trade. When Pag looked back up to thank the other player, they had already disappeared again. Odd, but who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth. Sighing a small huff, he opened his inventory to look over what he had. In doing so, he realized that the items had automatically equipped. After considering it for a moment. He assumed that it was because his character both needed the gear, and lacked the room in his inventory to store them if they weren¡¯t equipped. He looked down at himself, considering the thick woolen robes that now hung from his shoulders. Not too shabby, he almost looked like a low ranked wizard from a royal court. If said wizard had lost his hat, had a penchant for thick fur collars on their robes, and preferred to go sleeveless. The fabric of the robes looked black, but he was unsure how likely it was due to the current level of darkness or if the fabric was actually that dark. A line of red circled both shoulders where the sleeves should have begun, while another line of red ran down the front of the robes. The boots were supple and hugged his feet. The rough leather gloves were thin enough that they didn¡¯t hinder his movement while still providing warmth even though they only ran from wrist to the first knuckle of each finger. Both gloves had deep red crystals set in a silver metal on the back, just behind the knuckles. The thin red fabric belt that hung heavily around his waist seemed to be clasped together with a third red crystal. As he looked over the outfit he noticed ghostly characters embroidered into the red fabric and floating within the crystals. He pulled his inventory back up to take another look at the information then frowned. All the information for the items was missing, with nothing more than a row of question marks in each field. Though he did note that with the new gear he was now able to carry more than two items, now he could hold a whopping six items. There was another, seperate set of slots that he could only assume were slots for bags. He glanced at the question marks again and frowned. Perhaps he needed a skill or would have to take them to get appraised by some shop to find out any information about them? A chill ran down his spine as he finally registered the bitter cold that hung over the area taking note of how his breath visibly exhaled in pale clouds, a stark difference to the clinging humidity of Soohan jungles he had died in just moments ago. He dismissed the inventory window again, a problem for future Pag to deal with. He glanced at the HUD to check local and real world time and debated what to do. If he logged out now he wouldn''t have completed his first shift and he didn¡¯t know if they would doc him for that. Considering all the hoops he had had to jump through to get an interview and all the testing they had put him through after being hired he didn¡¯t want to risk getting fired. Especially not considering the pay and benefits that they offered from day one. Pag moved around a bit where he sat to make himself comfortable and sighed. Taking his time to inspect the map as best as he could given the limited information it offered, it appeared there were a lot of things he couldn¡¯t do without skills or items, before finally standing up and heading to a building that was marked as a tavern. As he approached the building it became brighter around him. Street lamps cropped up here and there, more so on the street corners, as houses with windows poured light onto vacant cobbled streets. Raucous laughter and jovial voices echoed out from the building as he approached it. Like any good fantasy game it seemed Ludere Online had taverns. Taverns were the best place to find information, jobs. Occasionally if you were lucky or the cloak and dagger sort you could even find coins. For now he would settle for information, if the events up to now were any indication Pag was not the lucky sort and was in desperate need of information. Pag stopped, his hand just above the door knob. He considered what the reaction to a person like him would be if he just barged in, and with a sudden sinking dread, he pulled up his inventory to look at his coin count. He sighed, taking a step back from the door. He got the distinct impression just from his surroundings that loiterers would not be welcome and he would have to do a few jobs before he could even consider making a tavern his base. His thoughts were interrupted by the coarse dry wood of the door slamming into his face as it swung open. Stars blossomed across his vision, and he fell backwards. Landing hard on his rear, more pain blossoming at the impact. A line of fire exploded from his nose, and slowly trickled down over his lips to coat his chin. When the stars cleared from his vision and he looked up, his eyes met with a very confused and obviously drunk man. The drunk man''s hand was still glued on the door knob as he blinked blearily down at Pag sprawled on the street and took up most of the door frame, blocking the light from reaching Pag. Pag stared up at him, noting at the same time that the light spilling from inside that tavern seemed to be creating a halo of warm golden light around him. He fought back a wave of irritation as he looked up at the man. It had been his own fault for standing right in front of an outwards opening door. ¡°Sorry ¡®bout that bro. Didn¡¯t know you were there. Are you new to the game or just trying a new set up?¡± He asked as he stepped out of the door frame. Letting it close behind him and crouching down with a wobble. He held a hand out, and it took Pag a minute to realize he was offering to help him up, before he finally took it, accepting the pull to his feet. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.¡°Ah, I''m new. Just logged in¡­ erm not sure how long ago. It¡¯s been a bit of a trip¡± Pag chuckled nervously as he gingerly felt at his nose, trying to think of how much time had passed. ¡°I¡¯ve looked at the clocks but it''s still a bit confusing. Is there a better way to figure that out?¡± The other player looked him up and down, his eyes widening slightly as the other player inspected Pag¡¯s public status. His voice held obvious mirth and he leaned back against the wall of the tavern. ¡°Just logged in today, and already made an enemy of your original faction? You¡¯re not aiming to join those Group-C players are you? Time here runs a lot faster than out there so it¡¯s understandable, the game will automatically notify you when your shift is up. Or if you have come in on a day you aren''t scheduled for you can set an alarm to tell you how much time has gone. You can stay in longer up to a certain point, can''t really recall exactly how long to be honest. I don¡¯t really keep track of it, but long story short the system boots you off for safety and health so you don¡¯t really need to track time unless you have a quest bound by time.¡± ¡°Good to know. Well. I either complained too loudly for one of the devs about the character creation process then got kicked out before I could figure anything out or there was a serious bug that kicked me out into the capital midway. Then without knowing it. I cast a fire spell that burned down a lot of what I assume were homes and businesses.¡± Pag grumbled, the last words coming out in a rush. ¡°Good to know about the time thing though.¡± The other player nodded in sincere understanding, wobbling a bit more. ¡°Likely it was the complaining. That¡¯ll do it. Sean¡¯s very good at what he does and is very creative but a bit over sensitive to critique no matter how diplomatically it may be phrased. Don¡¯t worry though, even with your race since you have that title you¡¯ll be ok here. Prices may be a bit higher for you initially, but they won''t actively hunt you. Do a few social quests and get some rep, it¡¯ll be like you were born here and prices will drop. Draggor¡¯s not a bad faction, just gets a bad rap because of the king and his advisor.¡± He stopped thinking for a moment then frowned. ¡°I want to emphasize the social part of social quests. The mobs and stuff outside the city are tough for spell casters, tend to travel in literal mobs and can sneak up on you real fast. Unless you can get a team or guild to take you on it would be best to stay in the city until you hit level ten at least. This area isn¡¯t geared as much towards casters like Soohan or the Lunar Empire zones are.¡± ¡°Thanks, I really appreciate the heads up. Sorry if I''m keeping you, but if you don¡¯t mind can you tell me more about bases?¡± Pag asked with a weak smile. The man nodded and glanced at the tavern before looking back at him. ¡°You don¡¯t want to make this tavern your base though. Too close to the docks. It has decent cheap swill and recreation type stuff like ¡­. gambling. You know that sort of stuff¡± He coughed scratching his chin before speaking again. ¡°Also the breeze off the water pulls in all the storms, stench and temperature. If it''s storm season you will feel like you¡¯re riding out a hurricane in a port-a-potty, if it''s hot it¡¯ll be like sleeping in a mobile home with no insulation or AC while surrounded by fish and wrapped in a wet blanket. Plus this is where most rogues get sent on their first quests. I¡¯m no rogue but even I can tell the locks here are trash quality at best so anything you leave here in your room will be at risk.¡± He said as he pulled his cloak tighter around him. Guarding against exactly one of those no doubt. Pag blushed furiously and tried to keep his voice steady as he shifted his weight foot to foot. ¡°So where do you recommend setting up my base?¡± ¡°Well I¡¯d start with one of the shrines here in town. Ilmas or Senos would be best; they are the most welcoming and least likely to have any prejudices based on race, then once you have enough coins try setting up in the Prancing Stag. A bit expensive with weekly rent, but it has all the amenities and fairly large quarters. Good hot baths too. They had a hot spring that they pump directly into the bathing rooms. Or there¡¯s the Boars Boast, it¡¯s near a butcher. So it''s got a rough smell but it¡¯s cheap and you get all you can eat meat for dinner. If you want to own a place here in the city you will need to become a citizen of the faction, get a lot of reputation or a great title. Preferably both if you don''t want any limits on what section of the city you can buy in. If you want something that is more than that, say a plot of land, you will still need to have the stuff you¡¯d need here in town but you can go to the foresters office and buy land or if you come across an old abandoned base like an old homestead or fort or something you can do what the squatters did in the gold rush and fix the place up then file the necessary papers to have it transferred to your name.`` He shrugged then smiled. ¡°Almost forgot, Screen name¡¯s Pizzaboi, but call me Pizza if you want. System is about to boot me but I wanted to make sure I remembered to tell you that. If you need any help just message me. I know it seems silly that you can see screen names and I still introduced myself but now that I''ve told you my name I should be in your contact list. Can''t get that just from inspecting players for their screen names. They gotta tell you, it keeps harassment down and prevents trolls. The shops that sell gear for magic classes are all up towards the castle or in the core. Though with gear like that I think you¡¯ll be fine for a few levels. Unless you intend to go for a darker class build like a Necromancer, AbyssalSummoner, or something like that there aren¡¯t many quest options right this minute. It¡¯ll be dawn soon though, so you¡¯ll be able to start a few social quests or find a class trainer if you want to stay in the city. You can also check the job board and collect some materials for merchants. Try to stick to the nearby fields if you do go out of the main city for the merchants unless you can get on with a full party. I think I already told you but just in case. There are the usual wolves, among other things, out there that hunt in packs. They can take any one below level 10 out no matter how good your gear or skills.¡± "Watch your Hygieian Meter, especially around here. Things can get... strange... if it gets too low. Sure karma, and piety are important and all three lock or unlock some classes or quests but you really dont want to let the Hygieian meter drop too much." PizzaBoi stopped for a moment, swallowing back a belch with a grimace. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t forget to eat, it¡¯ll affect your stats and eventually the way your character looks. Going too long without eating not only do you lose stuff like constitution and strength but you start to get gaunt, you¡¯d end up looking like a dried up string bean. At the same time you don¡¯t want to eat random junk, that can be almost just as bad as not eating and still affects your appearance. Ah, you know what. Here, take these coppers, Keep the pouch it adds to inventory size and can carry more than money. Go grab a bite before you start questing. Maybe catch a bit of sleep too if you can.¡± He said to Pag, giggling. Pizza tossed Pag a small pouch as he stood straighter stretching. ¡°I gotta head out, my shift is over and the system is incessantly warning me that I¡¯m about to be booted so I¡¯m going to log out and get my blood moving, get some real food and drink. See you ¡®round kid.¡± ¡°I appreciate it, thanks for all the tips and information.¡± Pag said smiling. With a slight wave Pizzaboi¡¯s figure faded and disappeared in the wake of a small chime. Pag glanced down at the bag, opening it to check the contents. He frowned with a gulp before shoving it into a pocket in his robe. Good to know in game alcohol affected you the same as real alcohol, there was no way he had meant to give that much coin away. Right, he reminded himself, gift horses and all that. He looked around before pulling up the map, finding one of the temples. It seemed most of the temples for the known deities were clustered together. Pag took a deep breath before starting to trudge in the direction of the temples, his footsteps and the quiet murmuring of his new robes unnervingly loud in the dark silence that hung over the city. His eyes roved over the buildings as he walked, noting how they became more uniform and their condition improved as he made his way down the road into a different district. Glancing up at the first shop sign to have words rather than just a pictograph he saw the beginnings of dawn. He groaned, doubting that they would allow him to sleep even after he arrived, it looked like he would be setting his base and then hunting down quests. Hopefully he¡¯d get there in time for some free breakfast. He picked up his pace, lightly jogging the rest of the way to the temple district as the first ray of dawn hit their spires and bounced off in radiant beams. Pag stopped to catch his breath and watch the play of light for a moment before looking over the temples and blushing furiously immediately gave a hell no to the temple of Ilmas. If the statues and stained glass were any indication that was not a place he wanted to be. Instead he pointed himself in the direction of the temple of Senos and padded up to its doors which had already begun to open. Simply dressed men and women began to stream from within the temple, each carrying empty baskets or jugs and each with broad smiles as they talked softly among themselves. Pags footsteps faltered when the first of them noticed him, the man stared at him for a moment then gave him a small bob of the head and Pag blinked. Was it because of his title? Pag mentally shrugged and nodded back with a small smile as he closed on the temple. Others gave him small nods or waves that he returned in kind as they passed him. The heady aroma of bread with the subtle hint of something else wafted out the doors as he climbed the short flight of worn stairs and crossed the threshold taking a deep breath in. He closed his eyes, savoring the smell then blinked when his stomach growled loudly. ¡°Good morn¡¯ son. How may I be of assistance?¡± a rasping voice asked. Pag turned to the voice with a sheepish grin as his eyes settled on a man that may have once been brawny from time spent working hard outdoors but now looked stumped and weathered like old leather. ¡°Well, I came to request to make this temple a temporary base until I am able to get established elsewhere and perhaps see if there is anything I could do to help you; however, it seems my stomach is making demands of me.¡± The man chuckled softly. ¡°Is that so? Please feel free to do so but do know that if you intend to sleep in a bed rather than on a pallet or if you want further meals you will either have to donate three coppers a week or work to earn your stay. I think we may have a leftover spiced rolls and some pottage to spare from breakfast if you don¡¯t mind helping me with a few things.¡± ¡°That sounds agreeable, what can I do for you?¡± Pag asked. The old man gestured with his thumb behind him. ¡°First let¡¯s get you something to eat, we can discuss that while you do.¡± season 0: chapter 8 The developer''s room hummed with the low, persistent thrum of servers, a constant reminder of the digital world they were shaping. Frank, hunched over his workstation, his face illuminated by the flickering light of the monitor, was battling not just lines of code, but a crushing wave of fatigue. Jason, visibly agitated, paced behind Frank, his frustration mounting. "I''m telling you, Frank, something''s not right!" Jason exclaimed, his voice a mixture of anxiety and frustration. "The server''s acting up again. I swear I just saw¡­a spike in energy output from the Genesis Rock matrix. And look at these logs! Exile''s activity...it''s off the charts." Jason, fresh out of university and eager to prove himself, had been assigned to monitor player activity, particularly the logs related to Group C testers. He often struggled to contain his enthusiasm, especially when confronted with unusual player actions. Frank, on the other hand, had been with the project since its inception, and the weight of responsibility had worn him down. He had seen firsthand the potential consequences of pushing the boundaries of the Genesis Rock technology, the disastrous results of Dave''s relentless pursuit of realism. "Exile?" Frank asked, rubbing his temples, trying to massage away the beginnings of a headache. "That quiet kid who always picks the most unassuming avatars?" "He''s not so quiet anymore," Jason replied, his voice tinged with a nervous excitement. "He''s been leveling up at an alarming rate. Look at his skill progression...it''s like he''s absorbing knowledge, mastering abilities that shouldn''t be accessible to him at his level." Jason pointed to the monitor, where Exile''s character sheet was displayed. His stats, particularly Focus and Magic Defense, were far exceeding the expected parameters for a player at his level. Even more concerning was the list of active quests. "Revenge for the Crown," "Breaking the Tide"...these are high-level quests, Frank! Quests that should be locked until much later in the game". Frank leaned forward, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten, peering at the screen. He scrolled through the logs, his brow furrowing as he noticed a series of red flags. Exile was accessing areas of the game that were still under development, manipulating game mechanics in ways that shouldn''t be possible. A chill ran down Frank''s spine. This was more than just a player pushing the boundaries of the game. This was something different, something dangerous. "He''s interacting with the Genesis Rock matrix," Frank muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "He''s not just playing the game anymore. He''s trying to rewrite it". Frank and Jason exchanged a worried glance. They both knew the Genesis Rocks were powerful, capable of generating hyper-realistic environments and AI responses, but they were also volatile. Tampering with them could have catastrophic consequences. "What are we going to do?" Jason asked, his voice laced with a mixture of fear and excitement. Frank sighed, running a hand through his already-disheveled hair. The situation was spiraling out of control, and he felt a sense of helplessness, a dread that mirrored the unease he had felt during the Lazarus Project''s disastrous testing phase. "We need to alert Dave," he said finally, his voice heavy with apprehension. "He needs to know about this." But even as he spoke the words, Frank knew it wouldn''t be easy. Dave, obsessed with the success of Ludere Online, had a tendency to dismiss concerns, especially when they threatened to delay the game''s release or tarnish its reputation. And telling him that a player might be tampering with the very heart of the game, the Genesis Rock matrix, was likely to be met with disbelief and anger. Frank glanced at Jason, whose youthful face was now a mask of apprehension. This was uncharted territory for both of them, a challenge that would test their skills and their loyalty to the project, to each other, and to the players whose lives were increasingly intertwined with the digital world they had helped create. "Alright," Jason said, his voice resolute despite the tremor of uncertainty that ran through him. "Let''s try to gather more data. We need to understand what Exile''s doing, what his objective is, before we go to Dave." The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. The two developers turned back to their monitors, their faces illuminated by the cold glow of the screens. The developer''s room, once a haven of creative energy and camaraderie, now felt heavy with a sense of foreboding. The game had changed. And they, the architects of this virtual world, were struggling to maintain control as the lines between reality and the digital realm blurred, as the consequences of their creation spiraled beyond their grasp. The developer¡¯s room, usually a space of lively collaboration and shared passion, was now thick with an unsettling tension. The rhythmic hum of the servers, usually a comforting background noise, now seemed to underscore the growing unease that had gripped the team. Frank, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion, rubbed at his gritty eyes, wishing he could simply reboot himself like a malfunctioning program. Jason, unable to contain his nervous energy, continued his restless pacing behind Frank¡¯s chair. ¡°His Focus¡­ it¡¯s jumped by ten points in the last hour,¡± Jason said, his voice a mix of awe and apprehension. He gestured towards the screen displaying Exile''s character sheet, the numbers stark against the dark background. "And his Magic Defense¡­ It¡¯s like he¡¯s bypassed the normal skill progression altogether.¡± Frank, already wearied by PillowHorror¡¯s blatant disregard for the intended game mechanics, felt a fresh wave of exhaustion wash over him. Exile, the player who had always chosen the most mundane avatars and quietly followed the pre-determined quest lines, was now exhibiting an alarming and inexplicable skill progression. Frank had always found Exile¡¯s approach to the game rather¡­uninspired. Now, it seemed, the quiet player was making a statement, and it was one that sent shivers down Frank¡¯s spine. ¡°What about his Hygieian meter?¡± Frank asked, his voice betraying his growing concern. ¡°Is it fluctuating at all?¡± Jason, his fingers flying across the keyboard, quickly pulled up Exile¡¯s Hygieian meter readout. The Hygieian meter, a measure of a player¡¯s mental and physical well-being within the game, was a crucial indicator of their synchronization with the Genesis Rock matrix. Any significant deviation from the norm could signal a problem, a blurring of the lines between the virtual world and reality. ¡°Stable,¡± Jason reported, his brow furrowed in confusion. ¡°No fluctuations. It¡¯s like he¡¯s¡­perfectly in sync with the game.¡± "This doesn¡¯t make sense," Frank muttered, pushing back from his chair and running a hand through his already-disheveled hair. He had witnessed firsthand the devastating effects of pushing the boundaries of the Genesis Rock technology, had seen the consequences of players becoming too deeply immersed in the virtual world. But Exile''s Hygieian meter remained stable, indicating a seamless integration with the game, a level of synchronization that was both impressive and unsettling. "Maybe it¡¯s a glitch?" Jason offered, hoping to find a simple explanation, something they could easily fix with a few lines of code. Frank shook his head, dismissing the suggestion. He had seen enough glitches and anomalies in his time as a developer to recognize that this was something different. Exile''s skill progression, his access to high-level quests, his manipulation of game mechanics ¨C it all pointed to a deliberate and calculated effort to reshape the game. "This isn''t a glitch, Jason," Frank said, his voice low and serious. "This is deliberate. He''s doing something...something we don¡¯t understand. He¡¯s accessing areas of the game that are still under development, areas that shouldn''t even be accessible to him." Jason, his youthful enthusiasm now tempered by a growing sense of unease, nodded slowly. He, too, was beginning to realize the gravity of the situation. Exile''s actions were not the work of a casual player or a harmless prankster. This was something far more calculated, something that threatened the very foundation of the game world they had created. "What do we do?" Jason asked, his voice betraying his newfound anxiety. "We have to stop him before he does something...irreversible." Frank hesitated, weighing the options. They could try to restrict Exile¡¯s access, limit his abilities, perhaps even ban him from the game altogether. But each of those actions carried a risk, a potential backlash that could further destabilize the already fragile equilibrium of the virtual world. And there was the unsettling possibility that Exile''s actions were part of a larger plan, orchestrated by someone or something beyond their comprehension. ¡°We need to gather more data,¡± Frank said finally, his voice firm despite the tremor of uncertainty that ran through him. "We need to understand what Exile''s doing, what his objective is, before we take any drastic measures.¡± He glanced at Jason, whose youthful face was now pale with apprehension. ¡°We need to figure out how he¡¯s doing this, and why.¡± The two developers turned back to their monitors, their faces illuminated by the cold glow of the screens, the weight of responsibility settling upon their shoulders. They had created a game, a world of infinite possibilities, but they had also unwittingly unleashed a force that threatened to consume their creation. The lines between reality and the virtual world were blurring, and they were in a race against time to understand the consequences of their actions before those consequences became irreversible. season 0: chapter 9 The low hum of the servers, a constant presence in the developer''s room, was almost drowned out by the frantic pounding of Frank¡¯s heart. He stared at the monitor, the lines of code blurring before his tired eyes. Amanda''s last words, choked with panic and abruptly cut short, echoed in his mind: "stuck¡­ nightmares¡­ worse..." Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the exhaustion that had become his constant companion. Amanda, one of the most experienced beta testers, trapped within the game, her character¡­ her mind¡­ He couldn''t shake the image of her struggling, lost in a digital nightmare of their own creation. "Jason," he rasped, his voice hoarse from fatigue and mounting anxiety. "Get me Amanda''s vitals. Now." Jason, his youthful face etched with concern, spun in his chair, fingers flying across the keyboard. "On it, Frank. Pulling up her bio-feed now." The seconds stretched into an eternity as they waited for the data to load. Frank rubbed a hand over his face, trying to massage away the tension that knotted his shoulders. He¡¯d always known there were risks involved in Ludere Online, particularly with the integration of the Genesis Rock matrix. But Dave¡¯s relentless pursuit of realism, his unwavering belief in the transformative power of the game¡­ It had blinded them all to the potential consequences. "Here we go," Jason said, his voice tight with urgency. "Heart rate elevated, respiration shallow, but¡­ her Hygeian meter... it¡¯s plummeting, Frank. Down to -15, and still dropping." The Hygeian meter was a crucial component of Ludere Online, designed to monitor the mental and emotional well-being of the players. A low reading, especially one dropping as rapidly as Amanda¡¯s, indicated extreme stress, bordering on psychological trauma. Frank¡¯s gut clenched. He knew what a negative Hygeian meter meant. It wasn''t just a game anymore. The lines between the virtual and the real were blurring, and Amanda was caught in the crossfire. "We need to get her out," he said, his voice firm despite the tremor of fear that ran through him. "Now. Before¡­¡± He couldn¡¯t bring himself to finish the thought. The potential consequences, the whispers about the Lazarus Project, about players losing themselves within the game, becoming something¡­ other... It was too horrifying to contemplate. Jason¡¯s fingers flew across the keyboard, initiating the emergency logout sequence. ¡°I¡¯m on it, Frank, but¡­ It¡¯s not responding. Her connection¡­ it¡¯s like it¡¯s been¡­ severed.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. A chill ran down Frank¡¯s spine. Amanda''s connection to the game severed¡­ It was impossible. The Genesis Rock matrix, for all its power and unpredictability, shouldn¡¯t be capable of that. Unless¡­ unless someone was manipulating it, someone with the knowledge and the will to rewrite the rules of the game. The whispers about Group C, the rumors of players exhibiting strange abilities, of lines between the game world and reality becoming blurred¡­ It all came rushing back to him. And suddenly, he knew. ¡°It¡¯s PillowHorror, isn¡¯t it?¡± he whispered, the name a curse on his lips. Jason¡¯s eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief crossing his youthful face. "No, Frank," he said, his voice hushed with a newfound urgency. ¡°It¡¯s not PillowHorror. I just checked his activity logs. He¡¯s¡­ he''s been offline for the past hour. Logged out just before Amanda''s Hygeian meter started to plummet." Frank felt a chill crawl down his spine, despite the stifling heat of the developer¡¯s room. PillowHorror offline¡­ That didn''t make sense. The guy was practically a permanent fixture in Ludere Online, pushing the boundaries of the game, testing their code to its limits. To have him suddenly disappear, just as Amanda¡¯s situation spiraled¡­ It was too coincidental. ¡°Then who?¡± Frank muttered, his mind racing, struggling to grasp the implications. If it wasn¡¯t PillowHorror, then who had the knowledge and the audacity to manipulate the Genesis Rock matrix, to sever a player''s connection so completely? Jason hesitated, his gaze shifting nervously between the monitor displaying Amanda¡¯s dwindling vitals and Frank¡¯s increasingly grim expression. ¡°I¡­ I cross-checked the server logs, the energy fluctuations¡­ There¡¯s another player. One who¡¯s been¡­ well, let¡¯s just say they''ve been active lately. Their stats are¡­ off the charts. And their actions¡­ They''re not playing by the rules, Frank.¡± He took a deep breath, steeling himself before revealing the name that had sent a shiver down his spine. ¡°It¡¯s Exile.¡± The name hung in the air, heavy with a new and unsettling significance. Exile. A player Frank vaguely remembered from the early beta testing phases. A quiet, unassuming player, blending into the background, rarely drawing attention to himself. Or so they had thought. ¡°Exile¡­¡± Frank echoed, the name unfamiliar on his tongue. He racked his brain, trying to recall anything significant about the player. Nothing. He was a blank slate, a ghost in the system. "But Exile¡­ He''s a low-level player," Frank protested, clinging to the familiar, the known. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have the knowledge, the access¡­ to do something like this.¡± Jason shook his head, his expression grim. ¡°He¡¯s not low-level anymore, Frank. He¡¯s been leveling up at an alarming rate. And his skill progression¡­ It¡¯s like he¡¯s¡­ absorbing knowledge, mastering abilities that shouldn¡¯t be available to him.¡± He gestured to the monitor, where Amanda¡¯s Hygeian meter continued its downward spiral. ¡°He¡¯s doing something, Frank. Something¡­ dark. And I think Amanda is caught in the crossfire.¡± season 0: chapter 10 Pag scraped the last of the dubious looking stew from the bowl and sigh contentedly as he placed the bowl on the table. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve had a stew that good in a long time Garvin.¡± he said looking at the old man. Garvin chuckled and took a sip of his tea before speaking. ¡°We may not be as flashy as other temples, or make things as beautiful but what we make lasts long, grows healthy, heals fast and tastes good. You get your fill?¡± ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t think I could eat another bit or I¡¯d burst. You mentioned work, what sort of work can I do for you?¡± ¡°Nothing too difficult, a spot of cleaning and a few errands but if you get it done right then Ill approve your request to make this your temporary base as well as lend you a bed and foot locker to use when you need.¡± Pag muffled a sigh and accepted the quest, resigning himself to spending the remaining time of his first session cleaning and going on a fetch quest. Surely nothing could go wrong with this though. Right? Pag lifted the helmet from his head and placed it back on the shelf as the pod-door silently slid open. Pale yellow light filled the pod as the opening grew, the whirs and clicks dying down until all was silent. Reluctantly he pulled himself from the pod and stood slowly, letting his muscles stretch slightly, surprised he wasn¡¯t as stiff as he thought he should have been. ¡°So, how was your first dive?¡± Jorge asked motioning for me to lift my shirt as he stood from the chair he had been sitting in. Lifting his shirt, Pag arched a brow, idly wondering how long he had been sitting there. Jorge reached into his pocket, pulling something out. He tore open the sachet and pulled out a moist wipe that he used to dissolve the glue that held the bluetooth capable electrodes to Pags¡¯ chest. The stark overhead lights shone from his bald head, the shadows of long faded tattoos almost blue against the rich brown of his skin on his arms. ¡°It would have been nice to have been able to finish the tutorial and figure out how to intentionally cast my spells so that I¡¯m not activating them at the worst possible time. Like say in the middle of an apparently highly flammable city, or when I try to point to a meat pie that I want to buy, or when I try to use the restroom. After I finally completed the quest that would allow me the ability to use a temple cell as my base I had to sleep then do more social quests to keep using the cell which took forever to do because the NPC¡¯s found it hilarious to give me bad directions to a shop. Once that was all done I decided to go explore the city, gather some information about things, but didn¡¯t get very far before I was alerted that my shift was up. I don¡¯t feel like I really made much progress despite all the time I was in there. It was kind of frustrating.¡± Pag mumbled as he scratched at the tacky patches of red skin where the electrodes had been before pulling the shirt back down. ¡°Ah, yes. Sean has been reprimanded. You weren¡¯t the first player he messed with but you are certainly the last. All that aside, was it enjoyable? Are there any concerns, complaints or symptoms?¡± Jorge asks as he sits down on a small worn brown love seat that was hidden in the corner between a pair of overgrown plants. ¡°I¡¯m a bit stiff from sitting for so long, not as much as I thought I would be though, and I¡¯m hungry. Aside from that I feel fine so far.¡± Pag said as he stretched more in an attempt to loosen up his limbs. ¡°Any headache, abnormal fatigue, muscle weakness, blurry vision. . .?¡± he asked trailing of openedly. ¡°Not that i can tell as of right now.¡± Jorge nodded and pulled out a small note pad, scribbled something down and stood. ¡°Well, that won¡¯t be an issue for too much longer hopefully. For now just make sure to get plenty of exercise to prevent muscle deterioration.¡± He patted Pag on the shoulder as he passed him and padded out the door. ¡°Be sure to get plenty of protein too. If you eat nothing but carbs and sugar you¡¯re going to have all your hair fall out. One player is already dealing with that even though he¡¯s not been here for a month. Cafeteria is open 24 hours a day so there¡¯s really no excuse to order take out, especially when the cafeteria is free. Also I cannot stress this enough, drink some water.¡± Pag nodded wearily and looked down the hallway where pre dawn light was beginning to climb through the window. ¡°I think, for now, I¡¯m going to head to take a shower and head to bed.¡± Pag stepped out into the hallway, stopping and turning back towards Jorge¡¯s retreating form. ¡°Oh, uh quick question. I¡¯ve heard a lot of talk about the group c testers from some of the other players I came across, are they all really that bad?¡± Stolen story; please report. Jorge stopped mid-step with a deep sigh, his shoulders sagging. ¡°There used to only be 2 groups of omega testers. One for nights and one for days, but then we had a few players who began to skew our results and, to put it simply, not play the game as intended but still provided us with useful information so we had to separate them for the sanity of those who sit on the board.¡± Jorge rubbed his head and shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re not at all bad, just unusual. PillowHorror-¡± Pags eyes widened. ¡°PillowHorror? He¡¯s in that group? He killed me with a tank!¡± Jorge blinked and laughed. ¡°Well I¡¯ll say this; PillowHorror, like most of the other group C players, gets deep into his character while still reminding us of the fact that there are a lot of things that need to be addressed. Like the fact that there is coding for items outside the genre left from when they tested physics. Such as, apparently tanks. He is also one of the players that spends the most time logged in to the various games so we get an idea of what long term playing does to the mind and body as well as what kind of usage the units can hold up to. You can thank him for the fact you''re not as stiff, he''s the one that suggested we use the haptic feedback in the gel to simultaneously stimulate the muscles. Well I say suggested but really it was that or give him a 12x12 pillow stuffed with alpaca fleece. I¡¯ve met all but one of them and they¡¯re all great people, they just like to create a bit of chaos from time to time. The only one you really need to worry about is- ¡° ¡°Fresh meat! Alright, I heard we had a new recruit. Are you just finishing your first shift or starting?¡± a deep melodious voice called down the hall. Jorge grimaced and sighed, shooting a tired look towards the sound of the voice. ¡°Christian, good morning. Hope your weekend went well. Brendan here just finished his first session and is off to get some rest, he uses the screen name Paggaco in Ludere.¡± ¡°Oh, C''mon Jorge, use my screen name. I¡¯m trying to get in character before I start my session. Hey, Pag? Pag, yeah you have got to check out the shrines to Ilmas¡± Christian said as he adjusted his thick black rimmed glasses and ran a hand through his hair, his grin mischievous and laughter lit his eyes. Pag swallowed feeling his face redden, the memory of walking into the temple fresh on his mind. Never before had he seen so many people willing to risk hypothermia and some of those statues put the statue of David to shame. ¡°I¡¯ve already seen one in passing, if they¡¯re all that way I think I¡¯ll avoid the rest.¡± Christian laughed at him. ¡°Paggums, simply seeing one doesn¡¯t do it any justice. Next time you¡¯re online I¡¯ll show you the true wonders of the temples to Ilmas. They offer a wide variety of training.¡± He said with a wink. Pag nearly choked and stuttered out a half muttered reply. ¡°That¡¯s not exactly my cup. No judgment to those that are. It¡¯s just I¡¯m a-¡± Jorge cleared his throat. ¡°Xian here is the favored of Ilmas in the game and is a group-c tester. Each temple has their area of expertise that they can offer training in, the temple Ilmas has skills and spells that can be used to affect others minds. Some of the more well known classes they help to train are mesmers and illusionists." He said, patting Pag on the shoulder with one hand and gesturing with a small wave with the other before turning to speak to the other player. "Now if you¡¯ll excuse us I have charting to do and I¡¯m sure that Pag would like to rest.¡± ¡°Alright, well welcome to the team buddy. I look forward to it, it should be fun.¡± Xian said, dipping his head. Pag muttered quietly in response and gratefully followed Jorge, careful to keep his eyes on the floor as he passed. Xian? Was that what Jorge had said his screen name was? Pag shook his head, fighting the urge to look back as they turned down another hall. ¡°You¡¯re one of the few testers that chose to stay on site rather than commute, you know. You¡¯ll be in B117.¡± Jorge¡¯s voice shook Pag out of his thoughts and he furrowed his brows. ¡°Why¡¯s that, I wonder, not the room number part but the other part? Kinda figured with how insane the housing market is, more people would have jumped on the chance for free housing.¡± Pag said, glancing out the windows they passed. They were obviously heavily tinted to keep the sun out but the light was still blinding as it crawled over the hills. ¡°Quite a few of them have children, others prefer to take the per diem and get a cheap motel so they can pocket the rest.¡± Jorge says stifling a yawn with some obvious effort. ¡°Right, well the dorms are down that way. Your wristband will act as your key to all the doors you¡¯re allowed to go through so don¡¯t lose it. There¡¯s a map on your company issued tablet which can be found on your desk, it is of the various facilities and all its out buildings. Unless something goes wrong the next time I¡¯ll see you is when you log out of your next session. I¡¯ll be checking in on you after the next few sessions to make sure there are no latent side effects or concerns but you can always contact me or depending on the time other medical staff members using the tablet until they get you the company issued cell phone. They used to give those out on the day of hire but there were several testers who took them and the per diem then never returned.¡± Pag gave a small nod. ¡°Thanks.¡± he said around a yawn before he padded down the hall to his room. The door to B117 was a dark charcoal color, like the doors around it, though the paint was clearly newer. The door gave a small chirp as he ran his wrist band over the reader embedded in the door and he twisted the knob giving the door a soft push. The pale golden lights slowly lit up the room, as if some one had slid a dial rather than flipped a switch. The air clicked and whirred, cool air filtering through the room. A wave of exhaustion hit him from behind, his eyes beginning to burn with the need for sleep and he slipped his shoes off next to the door as he shut and locked it. The full sized bed had simple white linens on it, a rich green quilt folded at the end of the bed. Pag sat on the edge of the bed slipping first his shoes then his jeans off and looked around blearily for a way to turn the lights off but found no switch. He sighed and tried clapping his hands with a frown. When nothing happened he shook his head and laid back on the bed. ¡°Guess I¡¯m sleeping with the lights on. ¡°He grumbled, stopping short as the lights clicked off. ¡°Well, it looks like character creation isn¡¯t the only needlessly complicated thing here today." He snorted, rolling his eyes. He pulled the blankets back and laid down quickly drifting off. season 0: chapter 11 The sterile white walls of the infirmary seemed to close in on Jorge, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic and the unspoken weight of grief. Eight gurneys lined the room, each one draped with a stark white sheet, the contours beneath hinting at the still forms that lay beneath. Each one a life extinguished, a dream shattered, a potential unrealized. Jorge stared at the covered forms, his stomach churning with a mix of nausea and sorrow. He had seen death before, had dealt with the aftermath of accidents and illnesses throughout his career as a medical professional. But this¡­ this was different. These weren''t just patients who had succumbed to disease or injury. These were victims. Casualties of a reckless pursuit of innovation, of a dream turned nightmare. Eight testers dead in less than a year. Each death a tragedy, each one pushing Jorge closer to the precipice of despair. He had joined Alluring Realms with the naive hope of contributing to something groundbreaking, of being a part of a team that would revolutionize gaming and push the boundaries of human experience. Now, he felt like a mortician in a digital graveyard, a silent witness to Dave¡¯s blind ambition. The door hissed open, and Dave stepped into the room, his face pale, his eyes bloodshot. The usual aura of confidence and enthusiasm that surrounded him had vanished, replaced by a heavy cloak of grief and exhaustion. He moved like a ghost, his footsteps silent on the polished floor, his gaze drawn to the row of gurneys as if he couldn''t quite believe the sight before him. ¡°They didn''t even get their helmets off,¡± Dave murmured, his voice breaking. "Didn''t even make it out of the units before they¡­ flatlined.¡± Jorge flinched. The image was too vivid, too horrifying to contemplate. He¡¯d seen the data, the logs, the cold, clinical reports that documented the final moments of the testers'' lives. But Dave¡¯s words, spoken with such raw emotion, brought the tragedy home, transforming the abstract data into a visceral reality. "I thought we weren''t going to test those units again," Jorge said, his voice tight with barely suppressed rage, "not until the engineers finished another diagnostic." He knew the answer before Dave even spoke. The pressure from the board, the insatiable demands of the shareholders, the relentless pursuit of progress, no matter the cost¡­ It had all culminated in this, in a room filled with the lifeless husks of their ambition. Dave grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture of defeat. "We weren¡¯t," he admitted, his voice laced with resignation. ¡°But the board and shareholders¡­ they were pushing for results, for tangible progress. They threatened to pull funding if we didn¡¯t show them something¡­ revolutionary.¡± He paused, his gaze shifting to meet Jorge¡¯s. "I thought¡­ I thought we were close, Jorge. That we could make it work. That we could push past the glitches, iron out the kinks¡­" His voice trailed off, the words a hollow echo of a dream turned nightmare. Jorge¡¯s anger flared. "Fix this?" he scoffed, the word laced with venom. ¡°Fix this? Dave, two more of your testers are dead. This makes a total of eight in less than a year. And ShadowKnight¡­ No. Devon. His name was Devon Weeks. He was a father. He has three little girls, and his wife is expecting their first son." Jorge¡¯s voice cracked, the raw pain of the situation finally breaking through his professional facade. He stepped closer to Dave, his gaze unwavering. "Give up on these new units," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Or outsource them. Something. I¡¯m with you but whatever you''re doing, it¡¯s not working. And if you keep this up, we¡¯ll end up with a lawsuit at best. At worst¡­¡± He couldn¡¯t bring himself to voice the thought, the image of more gurneys rolling in, more white sheets pulled tight, more families torn apart by Dave¡¯s blind ambition. It was a vision that haunted him, a stark reminder of the human cost of their reckless pursuit. Jorge turned away, the weight of his own complicity pressing down on him. He¡¯d tried to blow the whistle after the third death, had reached out to the media, to the authorities. But no one had listened. The allure of Ludere Online, the promise of a revolutionary gaming experience, had blinded them to the truth. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. He looked down at his hands, the nails bitten down to the quick, the right index finger cracked and mottled with a dark purple from where a malfunctioning dive unit had nearly crushed it earlier that week. A physical manifestation of the pressure they were all under, a constant reminder of the risks they were taking. His gaze fell on the tablet clutched in his hand, the spiderweb of cracks radiating from the corner a stark reminder of his own brush with the game''s deadly potential. He had reports to fill out, forms to sign, a bureaucratic dance to perform that would paper over the tragedy, reduce these lost lives to statistics. He walked towards the gurneys, each step heavy with the weight of his responsibility, his heart aching for the lives lost and the dreams shattered. He needed to escape, to find solace in the one place that had once offered him hope - within the game itself. He had to see for himself what had gone wrong, had to understand the forces at play, had to find a way to prevent this from happening again. It wasn''t just a job anymore. It was personal. Dave turned away from the gurneys, unable to bear the sight of the shrouded forms any longer. The weight of his responsibility visibly pressed down on him, crushing the last vestiges of his confidence. He knew Jorge was right. He''d been pushing too hard, too fast, driven by a need to prove himself, to make Ludere Online a success, no matter the cost. And now, eight lives had been lost because of his ambition. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the exhaustion settle deep in his bones. He hadn''t slept properly in weeks, haunted by the faces of the testers, their hopes and dreams flickering like dying embers in his memory. "What do we do now?" he asked, his voice hollow, devoid of its usual energy. Jorge took a deep breath, the anger fading, replaced by a weary resignation. He knew there was no point in assigning blame now. They were all complicit in this tragedy, each in their own way. "We follow protocol," he said, his voice flat, emotionless. "Inform the families, contact the authorities, initiate the investigation." The words tasted like ashes in his mouth. Protocol. A cold, sterile process that couldn''t begin to encompass the magnitude of their loss, the grief that clawed at his insides. He turned back to the gurneys, steeling himself for the task ahead. He owed it to these testers, to their families, to uncover the truth, to ensure their deaths wouldn''t be in vain. He gently pulled back the sheet on the first gurney, revealing the face of a young woman, her eyes closed as if in peaceful slumber. Sara, he thought, remembering her bright smile, her infectious enthusiasm. She had been so excited to be part of the Ludere Online team, had spoken passionately about the transformative power of gaming. A lump formed in Jorge''s throat, and he swallowed hard, pushing back the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He had a job to do. He had to be strong, for her, for all of them. He pulled out his tablet, his fingers trembling slightly as he began to document the details, his heart heavy with a grief that threatened to consume him. The weight of eight souls, he thought, their lives extinguished, their potential unrealized. He would not let them be forgotten. Jorge finished the last of the forms, his hand shaking slightly as he signed his name, the ink blurring on the page. His heart ached with a profound sadness as he watched the hazmat-clad technicians zip up the body bags, their movements practiced and efficient, their faces betraying no emotion. They wheeled the gurneys away, the wheels squeaking softly on the polished floor, the sound echoing in the sterile silence of the infirmary. He slipped on his jacket, the familiar weight of it a small comfort. He needed to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the infirmary, the sterile white walls that seemed to close in on him, suffocating him with the weight of grief and responsibility. He had one last thing to do before he left, one last act of defiance against the encroaching darkness that threatened to consume him. Jorge walked towards the back of the infirmary, where a small, dimly lit room housed a solitary dive unit. Jose , he thought, the name a silent prayer. Forgive me. He had a decision to make, a choice that could have devastating consequences. The guilt gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the eight lives lost, the eight dreams shattered. He knew the risks, understood the potential consequences, but the allure of Ludere Online, the promise of escape, of finding solace within the virtual realm, was too strong to resist. He had to see for himself what had gone wrong, had to understand the forces at play, had to find a way to prevent this from happening again. He stepped into the dive unit, the familiar hum of the machinery a strange comfort in the sterile silence of the room. He adjusted the neural interface, the cool metal pressing against his temples, a sensation both familiar and unsettling. As the world around him faded, replaced by the ethereal glow of the loading screen, he couldn''t shake the feeling that he was crossing a line, a point of no return. He was entering the game as a player. He was stepping into the unknown, into a world that had become both a sanctuary and a source of unimaginable pain. season 0: chapter 12 Frank, logged in as SkiptumHuga, found himself on the outskirts of the Draggor capital, the chill of the mountain air a stark contrast to the sterile warmth of the developer''s room. He tugged his cloak tighter around himself, the coarse wool scratching at his neck. The setting sun painted the snow-capped peaks in hues of orange and purple, a breathtaking vista that did little to soothe the growing unease in his gut. He needed this. This escape, this temporary reprieve from the crushing weight of responsibility that had settled on his shoulders. The game, their creation, was teetering on the brink of chaos, and he, along with the rest of the dev team, were scrambling to contain the ever-growing list of anomalies, exploits, and glitches that threatened to unravel the very fabric of Ludere Online. He had chosen to spawn in the Draggor Kingdom, a region known for its harsh beauty, its rugged landscapes, and its fiercely independent people. It was a far cry from the carefully manicured gardens and bustling marketplaces of the Soohan capital, where Pag''s unintentional rampage had left its mark. He needed a clear head, needed to distance himself from the endless lines of code, the frantic messages from testers, the looming shadow of Dave''s relentless ambition. He needed to experience the game as a player, to reconnect with the sense of wonder and possibility that had driven them to create this virtual world. Frank pulled up his quest log, a list of tasks and objectives designed to guide players through the sprawling narrative of Ludere Online. He scrolled through the list, his gaze lingering on a quest titled "Whispers of the Deep." It involved exploring the Sunken Ruins, a sprawling network of underwater caverns and temples that lay submerged beneath the waves, said to hold secrets of a forgotten civilization. He had always been fascinated by the Sunken Ruins, both as a developer and as a player. It was a zone he had personally overseen, pouring countless hours into crafting its intricate environments, its challenging puzzles, and its rich lore. It was a place where the boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred, where the whispers of the past mingled with the echoes of the present. He dismissed the quest log and set off towards the nearest stable, the crunch of snow under his boots a welcome distraction from the turmoil of his thoughts. As Frank approached the stables, a commotion erupted from within. The sounds of shouting and the clang of steel on steel reached his ears, raising a prickle of unease. The quest, the Sunken Ruins¡­ it could wait. He drew his sword, a simple, unassuming blade that belied its deadly efficiency, and cautiously approached the stable entrance. He peered inside, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. A group of heavily armed bandits were harassing the stable master, demanding horses and supplies. The stable master, a grizzled old man with a weathered face and calloused hands, stood defiant, his back straight, his gaze unwavering. "We''ve taken all we need, old man," sneered one of the bandits, a hulking brute with a cruel smile etched across his face. "Now step aside before we get rough." Frank felt a surge of anger. This wasn''t supposed to happen. The Draggor Kingdom was supposed to be a haven for players, a place where they could explore and adventure without fear of harassment from other players. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The bandit leader, sensing Frank''s presence, turned, his eyes narrowing. "Who are you?" he growled, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "Someone who doesn''t like bullies," Frank replied, his voice calm and steady. He stepped into the stable, his sword held at the ready. The bandits, surprised by his sudden appearance and unwavering confidence, hesitated for a moment. Then, with a roar, the leader charged, his sword arcing through the air. The fight was swift and brutal. Frank, drawing on his knowledge of the game''s combat mechanics and his own years of experience as a player, moved with a grace and precision that belied his weariness. His sword danced, deflecting blows, finding openings, striking with deadly accuracy. He was a developer, a creator, but in that moment, he was a warrior, defending the innocent, upholding the fragile order of this virtual world. He could feel the familiar thrill of combat coursing through him, the adrenaline sharpening his senses, pushing aside the fatigue, the worry, the crushing weight of responsibility. For a brief moment, he was lost in the flow of the fight, the clash of steel, the grunt of exertion, the primal satisfaction of a well-timed parry, a decisive strike. The bandits fell one by one, their bravado replaced by fear as they realized they had underestimated their opponent. The stable master, watching the fight unfold with a mixture of awe and gratitude, retrieved his own weapon, a sturdy cudgel, and joined the fray. The last bandit, his comrades lying wounded or dead around him, stumbled back, his eyes wide with terror. He dropped his sword and raised his hands in surrender. "Please," he begged, his voice trembling. "I yield." Frank lowered his sword, his chest heaving, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow. He felt the familiar exhaustion settling back in, but this time, it was tinged with a sense of accomplishment, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. He had protected the innocent, had restored order, had proven that even in this increasingly chaotic world, there was still a place for justice. He sheathed his sword and turned to the stable master, who approached with a grateful smile. "Thank you, stranger," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "You saved my life." "It was nothing," Frank replied, his voice tinged with humility. "Just doing what''s right." The stable master shook his head, his eyes twinkling. "Not many would risk their lives for a stranger," he said. "You have a good heart." Frank felt a warmth spread through him, a warmth that had nothing to do with the setting sun or the crackling fire in the nearby hearth. It was a warmth that came from within, a reminder of the ideals that had driven him to create Ludere Online in the first place: a world where players could escape reality, explore, adventure, and connect with others. He knew that the game was changing, evolving into something far more complex and dangerous than they had ever imagined. But in that moment, standing in the dimly lit stable, the scent of hay and horses filling his nostrils, the weight of the world momentarily lifted from his shoulders, he felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, they could still salvage their creation, could still guide it back to its original purpose, could still make it a place where the boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred, not with danger and despair, but with wonder and possibility. He glanced at his HUD, the quest "Whispers of the Deep" still beckoning. The Sunken Ruins, with its secrets and dangers, awaited. He had a job to do, a role to play, both as a developer and as a player. Frank took a deep breath, the weight of responsibility settling back on his shoulders, but this time, it was tempered by a newfound determination. He would face the challenges ahead, would confront the darkness, would fight for the soul of the game he had helped create. The game had changed. And so had he. season 0: chapter 13 PillowHorror settled into his custom-designed throne a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He cast a glance at the sprawling map of Ludere Online with troop movements on the large table, its intricate web of interconnected zones, quest lines, and player movements. Each blinking flag could be activated like an icon to display an ethereal info pane with a small tendril of mana and each represented a potential opportunity for manipulation, a chance to nudge the carefully crafted virtual world toward a more... interesting outcome. "Let''s see how our little experiment is progressing, shall we?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the room. His fingers danced across the virtual keyboard, summoning a cascade of data onto his multiple HUD screens. He began with Pag. The naive young mage, still fumbling his way through the intricacies of the game, was proving to be a remarkably effective catalyst for chaos. His accidental destruction of the Soohan capital had sparked a chain reaction, rippling outwards, destabilizing the delicate political balance of the game world. to think he had stumbled across the kid by accidentally P.K.ing him PillowHorror chuckled softly, savoring the escalating tension. He had carefully orchestrated Pag''s current predicament, subtly manipulating events behind the scenes to ensure the young mage remained a thorn in the side of the heavy hitting political movers. It was a delicate dance, a game of whispers and nudges, but the results were undeniably satisfying. He shifted his focus to the other Group C testers, his fellow agents of chaos scattered throughout Ludere Online. Their actions, seemingly random and disruptive, were in fact guided by his subtle cues, a symphony of discord playing out across the virtual landscape. Scout, the stealthy swashbuckler, was infiltrating the kingdom of Draggor, planting seeds of doubt and suspicion among the ruling elite. Her ability to blend seamlessly into any environment, to exploit weaknesses in security systems, made her the perfect operative. Xian, the charismatic mage, was stirring up trouble in the Soohan territories, his mastery of illusion and persuasion turning allies against each other. He reveled in the chaos, in the subversion of expectations. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.And then there was Frank, the wildcard, the developer who embraced the chaos as eagerly as any player. He was a valuable asset, a source of insider information and a willing accomplice in PillowHorror''s grand experiment. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with, a collective of skilled players who understood the game¡¯s mechanics, its vulnerabilities, and its hidden potential. They were exploiting glitches, bending the rules, and rewriting the narrative, all under the watchful gaze of the unsuspecting developers. PillowHorror¡¯s gaze lingered on the line of code that represented the Genesis Rock matrix, the heart of Ludere Online¡¯s reality engine. It was the source of the game¡¯s power, its ability to generate hyper-realistic environments and AI responses. It was also, he suspected, the key to unlocking the true potential of virtual reality, to blurring the lines between the digital and the real. He had only scratched the surface of its capabilities, but he was learning. Each exploit, each glitch he uncovered, brought him closer to understanding the true nature of the matrix, the potential it held to reshape reality itself. He knew the developers were growing increasingly concerned about the game¡¯s instability, about the escalating chaos that threatened to unravel their carefully crafted world. He had seen the fear in their eyes, the desperation in their attempts to contain the damage. He smiled. Their fear was a delicious validation of his power, a testament to his mastery of their creation. He was the puppeteer, and Ludere Online was his stage. He leaned back in his throne, a sense of exhilaration coursing through him. The game was changing, evolving into something far more complex, far more dangerous. And he, PillowHorror, was at the forefront of that evolution, driving it forward with his relentless pursuit of chaos and knowledge. The real game, the game that transcended the boundaries of the virtual world, was just beginning. And he was playing to win, win something greater than anyone realized. season 0: chapter 14 Pag waved away the system message irritably, grinning when the movement didn¡¯t send any fire out then took a moment to adjust as he settled into the game and its new time dilation. The cold air hit him almost as hard as the feted stench from the nearby trench, the combination of both causing him to sneeze and then subsequently gag. Pag remembered too late to cover his nose and a plume of flames spewed from his mouth, lighting the hem of a passing gentleman''s waistcoat who continued walking for a few steps before yelping as the flames lapped at his rear. Pag cringed and dove into the shop he had spawned next to. The sounds of alarm rising behind him as he pulled the door closed behind him panicking. He held his breath hoping no one saw him in the seconds between spawning, lighting a man on fire and diving into this shop, sweat beading his brow. Pag sniffled and rubbed his nose as he looked around the shop, the voices outside apparently not hot on his heels to make him pay for this latest debacle. He needed to find someone who could teach him the proper way to control his magic or he was going to end up in some serious trouble. For now he took stock of his surroundings. The shop he hid in was dimly lit, pale light radiating from woven baskets filled with tiny pebbles that gave off a weak milky light allowing him to see that the place was packed floor to ceiling with shelf upon shelf of¡­. Well what he could only describe as junk. There were bones, feathers, animal skins, teeth, odd sticks and hunks of dull unprocessed metal ores. None of it seemed to hold a specific purpose but perhaps they were materials needed for. Something. Pag frowned as he padded through the haphazard aisles. A rat¡¯s tail? What use could that possibly have? And was that a, ew gross. Nope he was going to get out of this trash heap and get started on his daily quests. A gentle hand grasped his elbow and he looked down to see a small elderly lady staring up at him with a wan smile. Her wiry silver hair stuck out of the loose bun at odd angles looking like a fraying yarn ball. Her wire frame glasses were bent into as many angles as her back and magnified her watery blue eyes like an old glass soda bottle. ¡°Pardon me dear, I fear you must be lost. I don¡¯t think someone of your class, or level would have any use for my wares¡± Her voice was warm and soft, rubbing against his scales like warm fur. Pag relaxed, tension melting off of him in one wave as he looked closer at the woman then glanced around. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, there was a commotion out there and people started pushing so I stepped in here.¡± Pag¡¯s voice was weak at his poor explanation and he gave her a small smile. The woman gave him a snort and looked him up and down. ¡°Just don¡¯t steal anything while you¡¯re in here. Not that you¡¯d have any idea what these items are for but I prefer not to have the city guard at my door again because someone uneducated in the ways did something they weren¡¯t supposed to.¡± She muttered as she disappeared into the back of the store. ¡°The ways?¡± he asked slowly furrowing his brows. She nodded solemnly, folding her hands behind her back. ¡°Yes dear. the ways of Contramaledictum. The ways of removing curses, dispelling debuffs and banishing summoned creatures who would do harm. It is not a profession commonly sought out these days, especially by those not of the cleric class. I have not had a student in many years and he died after using the wrong reagent. I am currently the only licensed professional of this once highly regarded profession within the kingdom.¡± She squinted at him, puckering her lips slightly before speaking again. ¡°While I doubt you would be interested in this particular profession you have to look of a traveler, and a new one at that so I will share some information with you. Should you be interested in this or any other profession for that matter, the ability to gain your first profession opens up at level five and you cannot choose another one until you reach journeyman status. Should you reach that point you can always pick up another once you reach level fifteen if you haven¡¯t already by that point.¡± ¡°I appreciate the information and you allowing me a moment''s reprieve in your store. I¡¯ll be sure to keep it in mind.¡± Pag threw one last look over the shop and its wares before shuffling out of the shop and slipping into the press of people, the cold and stench of the nearby trenches once again assaulting him but this time he was better prepared. With a glance at the map in his menu he headed to the Temple of Senos to pick up the social quests. Most of the ones he had done there so far were simple things like carrying letters between clergy members, helping them lift heavy items, helping harvest the dwindling autumn crops or tending to their gardens and livestock that they kept in a small internal courtyard. It was boring and repetitive but they offered decent coin as well as a hot meal twice a day, for quick work that would allow him to kill time until it was time for other people who offered social quests to be in better moods. That was something he had learned last time, allowing any NPC time to eat or otherwise begin their daily routine meant that there was less of a chance of them slamming a door in your face or worse. It was not a mistake he would soon be repeating. Also the Temple of Senos tended to offer a really good breakfast and though he had eaten before logging into the game the thought of the fresh bread, butter, hot eggs and thick juicy sausages washed down with a steaming cup of tea still made him drool. Their dinner may have been a bland uninspired stew but the breakfast was well worth it. Soon he would have both the coin and the level to be able to start doing quests outside the city then he would really start making some noticeable gains. He had tried to party up with some other players but hadn¡¯t had any luck thanks to his low level and generalized class. The circular logic of it was as endlessly frustrating as trying to get your foot in the door of a new job industry. Just like when job hunting you needed on the job experience to get the job but you can''t get the experience without getting the job and no one wanted to be the first to give you a chance no matter how good your resume looked. Unless you were extremely lucky, or the employer was extremely shady there was just too small of a chance of making any progress. Though all his efforts hadn¡¯t been for nothing, speaking to the other players had given him plenty of information on classes. It seemed as though the starting class options were the base line or generalized defaults. While you could earn access to more while in the tutorial, something he hadn¡¯t had the opportunity to even attempt before being kicked out, you could also find class trainers in various areas if you looked hard enough. While many of these class trainers could be found in cities you could also come across them while out exploring the countryside or even in dungeons or event zones. It was these, the trainers not located in plain sight, that often offered the better classes or taught you in ways that you gained abilities and power faster than what you would if you went to one of the trainers in the faction cities. Though the generalized or standard classes you started out with were skilled in their own perspective fields with the right allocation of points and skills they weren¡¯t as effective as what were referred to as the nonstandard or archetype aligned classes. For example a fighter may be good at dealing damage with various weapons but they wouldn¡¯t hit as hard as a pugilist if unarmed or be able to control the flow of the fighting grounds as efficiently as a battle master. A mage may be able to use magic but many could only use kinesis based skills or if they had access to the elements they only had the weakest affinity for each of the elements while still being subject to all the penalties to them unlike if they had aligned with an archetype like becoming a knight or elementalist. Unlike the standard classes each of these could then be specialized in, further deepening understanding of their understanding of skills and tactics while enhancing their prowess. They could be further improved by more specialization or augmented by acquiring classes with high synergy that could later be combined into one class with access to the skills of all combined classes. As an example a player may start out as a mage able to use kinesis skills like mage hand or magic blast, but once they did some quests within the tutorial or even after exiting the tutorial they could then align with an elemental archetype granting them better control over their chosen element like for example fire which would be a Pyromancer. Then pick after hitting level 10 they could specialize that fire mage class to become something like Radiomancer that used both wide ranging radioactive and heat based magic to devastate large numbers of foes with long lasting debuffs or they could become a FireBrand which was, as best as Pag understood, much like that magical equivalent of a Duelist and used precise targeted attacks that were often meant for single opponent battles or one on one duels. Each could be further specialized, or if one was truly ambitious, augmented by picking up one or more other classes such as Witch Hunter which granted increasing levels of magic defense and nullification while granting the ability to use weapons such as crossbows. If that sort of thing wasn¡¯t your style you could pick up classes like Evoker and Summoner which would allow you to call on creatures or beings aligned to the element of fire. For those who preferred to avoid fights there were classes like artificer and enchanter where you can make items using the elements you had aligned with. In short there were endless potential variants or play styles that a player could choose from. As Pag neared the temples, weaving his way through the early morning traffic, bells began to toll. Not the usual melody they tolled out on the hour but a loud clamoring cacophonous sound that screamed something was wrong. The people around him stopped what they were and turned to stare in the direction of the racket, all falling silent before a sea of whispers rose up around him in the fading echoes of the bells. Pag leaned over to a hunched and stout old man whose nose was nearly as red as a ripened tomato carrying a bundle of sticks. He had a beard nearly long enough to brush the ground despite being at least six feet tall if he had been standing straight and Pag idly wondered how he avoided tripping over it. ¡°Excuse me sir, I¡¯m not from here. Can you please tell me what''s going on?¡± Pag asked in a sheepish tone. The man turned to look at him with suspicion in his eyes as he looked Pag up and down first squinting, then widening his eyes. Bryce the Beleaguered Boyer took a deep breath in to speak and choked dropping the bundle of sticks in a clatter heap. A man next to him, tall and wiry with matted brown hair and a crooked nose, slammed his hand on Bryce''s back as he looked Pag up and down a moment before speaking. ¡°Thems war bells sir. The King and his council met before dawn to debate the best course of action. It be seeming that they chose war. The bells are a call for all able bodied to sign for training and willing enlistment or risk conscription.¡± Bennigan who did appear to indeed have only nine fingers. Pag blinked in surprise. ¡°Who are we going to fight?¡± he asked. ¡°We go to fight the Lunar Empire sir.¡± Bryce finally coughed out, slapping at the tall man''s hand which was still slamming into his back. ¡°They been stealing coastal lands down south where we fish in winter and claiming it for their own. Apparently they¡¯re moving to do the same thing in Soohan too. You''d think the two lizard races would get along but good for us they don¡¯t I guess. Anyway King Dunstan ain¡¯t too happy ¡®bout it. His wife¡¯s cousin was Marquess of the city they just took a few weeks back. Killed him and the kids, left them on the steps of the Tynoril Cathedral there for the birds. Some of the men loyal to Marquess Tibald waited until dark then got the bodies and brought them here as sort of proof, see. They wiped out two entire platoons, nothing left of them, not even food for the crows from the way I hear, they¡¯re just gone. King Dunstan didn¡¯t want to go to war, said we be needed to come up with a dipl- a uh whatcha you call it. A peaceable end. His wife and the nobles weren¡¯t hearing of it, ¡®specially after they took the Cathedral.¡± The man sniffed and thumbed his nose before spitting to the side. Bennigan nodded. ¡°Since you don¡¯t look like a citizen you best get out or enlist. You enlist, you get paid, paid good too. You get conscripted any pay you might get goes to fees so you just work for free.¡± he said before the two trudged off. ¡°Thanks for the info¡± Pag said to their retreating forms, he rubbed his chin contemplatively nearly jumping when the notification appeared in front of him. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. >Yes< <*Note: While accepting this quest does not mean you are required to enlist, not doing so after speaking with a recruiter may have a negative impact on your Karma, reputation, and Hygieian meters. Accepting this quest opens up the chain quest line ¡°Shoot for the Moon¡± while allowing you a fast track to citizenship within the kingdom and granting access to the royal court class trainers which normally require a high reputation or large sum of gold. Not accepting this quest could negatively impact your standing with The Faction: Kingdom of Draggor. Every hand is needed for the war effort and each participant will be granted rewards and points equal to their contribution. Reward(s) for speaking with relevant recruiters: 20 experience points, 3 reputation points, should you enlist you will have access to the royal class trainers who may offer class specific gear or skills at discounted prices, free lodging at the barracks of unit you enlist into, access to the chain quests ¡°Shoot for the moon¡± and ¡°A path to citizenship¡± As a player of a race not native to this faction this can have many beneficial aspects.> Pag stared at the notification. He really didn¡¯t want to know what would happen if he had his reputation with Draggor drop. As it was he currently sat just above neutral thanks to his title and the few quests that he had done. He gave a long sigh and accepted the quest then began to trudge off to the coordinates of the recruiter he had to speak with, stopping as he stood in front of the first bank he had seen since starting the game. The line to speak to someone snaked out the door and down the street. If he wanted to get any quests done today he couldn¡¯t afford to waste time in line. He marked its location on his map, making a mental note to return later. Despite the cool air rolling in off the sea, sweat trickled down his back beneath the thick woolen robes as he stood in the line that snaked out from the large doors set into the dark grey stones of the castle. He had been in line for almost an hour and had taken no more than 10 steps since getting in line. If things didn¡¯t get a move on soon he wouldn¡¯t be able to do any daily quests and would need to make a donation or rent a room at a tavern if he wanted to have a hot meal or a bed. There was a slight cough to his right and he looked down, his eyes landing on a group of children looking up at him expectantly. Pag gave a slight frown looking them over. ¡°Yes?¡± He asked. There were seven boys, each young and each caked in a thick layer of dust and grime that seemed to extend well beneath the threadbare clothes they wore. How they managed to keep warm he didn¡¯t know. The tallest took a step closer, his linen wrapped feet landing squarely in a pile of muddy slush, and cleared his throat pulling a greasy knitted cap off his head letting even greasier hair spill loose. ¡°Sir, mages are to enlist at the other doors.¡± Pag furrowed his brows and he looked around. ¡°What other doors? This is the entrance to the barracks right?¡± He asked as he scratched his chin. ¡°Yessir this is the barracks entrance but this is for the armed or armored fighters. Ya know. The ones that use swords, spears, bows and the likes. You don¡¯t look like one of them. The mages enlist with the Arcane Core. We¡¯d be glad to show you for a small fee.¡± The boy smiled, brushing a lock of greasy brown hair from his face. Pag rolled his eyes and shook his head. ¡°Oh yeah, and how much would that be?¡± He snorted, turning from them knowing a scam when he smelled one. Or was that the open drainage trench. ¡°Just four coppers, enough to get me an¡¯ the boys here something to eat tonight out the cold. Nothing more. The line there is far shorter for them too so you can go back to doing your business ¡®til you¡¯re called to serve.¡± Pag looked at him out of the corner of his eyes, narrowing them to thin slits as he crossed his arms. ¡°You won''t be paid until after you get me there and I¡¯ve made sure it''s the right place.¡± He growled. The boys all took a step back, the smallest clutching onto the arm of another as his lower lip began to tremble, a few of the nearby men chuckled ruefully and the one who had been speaking nodded his head silently. Pag sighed then gave a short nod and slipped from the line. The eldest boy pointed towards a tower that was just visible on the other side of the castle roof. ¡°That¡¯s where the Arcane Core have their headquarters. Obviously the fastest way to get there is through the palace but we¡¯re not allowed so we have to go around.¡± he said as he turned, waving for Pag to follow. ¡°C¡¯mon, we¡¯ll get ya there in record time.¡± The kids moved fast, weaving through the crowds and slipping past the carts with ease stopping in the mouth of an alley to wait for him. ¡°This here is rovers alley. Call it that on account of the fact that it''s a perfect ring around the castle walls an¡¯ the guards use it for roving patrols. Bit tight in some places but the fastest way to get to the gates on the other side.¡± He said scratching at his chin with grimy nails before slipping his cap on and padding into the alley. Pag followed them, having to nearly run to keep up as they jumped over debris and refuse. He could feel his lungs burning and cursed, the group of boys let out hooting laughter as they ripped a few pieces of drying underwear that hung on a low string across the alley. Pag grasped a hand full of rough fabric that flew into his face, pulling a thick black blanket to the side and taking a deep breath to call out to the boys. Stars exploded across his vision, a searing white pain exploding from his forehead and he felt himself begin to fall forward. His ears rung and darkness encroached on his peripheral vision only to be blown away as pain exploded from his knees in a searing white wave. Pag threw his hands out, barely managing to catch himself on his hands. ¡°Gil, this doesn''t look like one of the usual rats.¡± a thin rasping voice called out from behind Pag. Pag tried to turn his head but stopped as even the most subtle movement of his head made it feel as if things that should be very much stationary were now moving, sending a wave of hot nausea overwhelmed him causing him to squeeze his eyes closed. He swallowed fighting back the reflex as the heat and nausea pulsed through him, his mouth suddenly flooding to the point even his convulsive swallowing couldn¡¯t remove it all. Drool slid from his pursed lips as he squinted through one eye to look at the debuff counters. ¡°Oh, and what gave you that impression? Was it the scales?¡± a low nasally voice drawled. ¡°Oh is that what those are? Thought those were some of those sores like what Lan got after he took those lessons from that Ilmas devotee, but you know worse.¡± ¡°They kinda do look like ¡®em boss.¡± another voice from behind Pag said with a wet chuckle. ¡°Still wouldn¡¯t explain the spines nitwits.¡± The slow drawl said with a thread of annoyance. Pag mentally cursed as another wave of nausea hit him, his stomach steadily trying to climb up his throat as the debuff counters slowly slunk downwards. Every word these morons said sent a sharp pulsing pain through his skull. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth to the point that they squeaked and the muscles in his jaw shuddered. Somehow he didn¡¯t think the last thing he had eaten in game, a thick and chunky stew, would be that great the second time around. Anger rose in him almost as forcefully as the attempts his stomach were making and he tried to focus on pushing them both back down. ¡°Oh is that what those were?¡± ¡°What did you think they were?¡± ¡°I dunno, maybe he was like that one fella who had all those arrows stick out? You know, the one who didn¡¯t want them out, said it was for the aesthetic. Far be it from me to judge.¡± ¡°Fair point, that, boss.¡± The one directly in front of Pag let loose a long sigh before responding. ¡°We can debate it later. For now shake down the rats. I¡¯m thirsty and think I hear some stew calling my name. I¡¯m so glad we ran across these little rats since their dues are, well due.¡± he said chuckling with the last. ¡°But it hasn¡¯t been a full week since the last time we had dues, we don¡¯t have it yet. We was doing a job before you showed to earn more.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have it?¡± the low nasally voice dropped lower. ¡°Boys you know the routine.¡± Pag wasn¡¯t sure if there had been an unspoken answer before the meaty thump or resulting pained yelp, not that it mattered. He slammed a fist onto the ground, he couldn¡¯t take any more of this. Not only was he dealing with these debuffs but apparently these assholes regularly extorted these kids and if they didn¡¯t pay up they were abused. He wasn¡¯t having any of this, giving up on waiting for the debuff counter to run down he pushed himself up from the cold ground and whirled deciding it would be best to take out the incapacitate the two behind then deal with the remaining after. As he spun he swiped an open hand around to where the two voices had been when they were speaking, a trail of roaring flames spewing in an ascending arch. The flames bit greedily into the surrounding detritus and threadbare laundry, something Pag didn¡¯t register until one of the men that he had spun on had a line of flames licking at him from one hip to the opposite shoulder. Pag immediately cut off the flames, the wave of nausea from his debuff redoubling as he realized he hadn¡¯t stopped nearly soon enough, the second man had taken the flames right to the face. He let loose one blood curdling shriek, hands slapping at the flames, and as Pag watched in horror took another before stiffening momentarily and falling to the ground as the other ran screaming. Pag stared numbly at the body, sound fading out from around him and his stomach still climbing his throat. ¡°You Bastard. I¡¯m going to beat your ass so bad they wont even register your remains as anything more than a smear you worthless ignorant pair of boots. I will set my house on fire and force feed you the ashes then when you choke and die on them I will use your face as the new seat cover to my latrine.¡± Pag blinked, snapping back to his senses and whirled to face the final man. As he locked eyes with him, Pag knew he had made a grievous mistake though for some reason the only thing he could really focus on was ¡°What the heck does ¡®Personage of many Stews¡¯ mean and why is it a title?¡±. The man was running at him full tilt, a fist wrapped in grimy metal links cocked back and ready to punch. Pag grimaced, unable to fight it back any longer as his stomach gave one final heave. Flaming half digested food spewed into Archibald Vandersnatchs face and down the front of his worn bright green leather vest. Archibald shrieked and sputtered, hands blindly clawing at the flaming chunks clinging to his face and missed a step plowing into Pag. All the air in his chest left him with an oomph as Archibald''s head plowed into his chest, his chest muscles seizing when they both fell to the ground. Ringing once again filled his ears and he noted the new debuff taking effect as the old ones wore off. Pag glanced at his stamina and mentally cursed. He was already down to 48/55 Stamina, at this rate he would have less than half a minute before it started eating into his health and he could already feel his lungs starting to burn. Would he have to suffer through the entire time and feel every moment of his death by suffocation or would he go unconscious before then? Did the effect increase if he attempted to move? On top of him Archibald stopped clawing at his face as he gave a wheezing growl, staring hatefully down at Pag. He wrapped a hand around Pags neck and cocked his fist back. Blackness encroached from the edge of his visions as Pag fought to make his lungs work. Archibald let his fist fly and stars exploded in Pags vision, the fist hitting him square between the eyes. Idly Pag noted the suffocation debuff clicking off and being replaced by a stunned debuff. Archibald cocked his fist back again and Pag closed his eyes waiting for the hit. He¡¯d get hit with at least one more before the debuff ran out, assuming it didn¡¯t stack with each subsequent hit. Pag Squeezed his eyes tight, bracing for the hit. Kerthunk All of Archibald¡¯s weight left him and his eyes sprung open, the stun debuff flicking off as he did. Pag sat up taking deep breath in as he did and frantically looked around. The kids were gone, Archibald was laying in a motionless heap not far from him and the flames that had been licking at both the detritus and dead man were steadily dying as if all the air around them had been removed. Uniformed men ran through the dying flames, a thin robe clad figure following in their wake muttering inaudibly until the last of the flames sputtered out. Pag shakily stood watching as the guards surrounded first Archibald then him. ¡°You are under arrest. Try not to resist.¡± Pag waved the system message away with one hand, grimacing at the tongues of flames that fluttered out at his movement, just in time to see the gleaming plated fist that knocked him out. season 0: chapter 15 The room was sparsely furnished, much of the furniture having been removed to make room for the sleep black pod that sat squarely in the center of the room. The only thing of note aside from the pod were the medical equipment monitors, a plush black couch with pink flowers stitched into the cushions and wooden feet which sat next to a worn plush chair. Wilted leaves lay forgotten in a corner where the depression from a potted plant previously sat, a stark white valley in the thick cream colored carpet. Dave fought to keep a pleasantly neutral expression as the tester walked in, followed by a gaggle of staff members. He plastered a large grin across his face and stepped forwards to greet him. ¡°I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to test out this new equipment on such short notice John. It means a lot to me. Today is the last day were going to get to test this new model before the board makes us scrap it so we need to get a win on the books.¡± Dave said as he clapped the former pro player turned beta tester on the shoulder. ¡°If you get us the data we need in this unit and I¡¯ll get Marissa to work her P.R. magic to get your reputation back up and beyond what it was before. Then we''ll make you the face of Alluring Realms Games.¡± He said leaning in to whisper the last conspiratorially. Marissa rolled her eyes as she sat in the plush armchair in the corner watching as Dave waved a plump blond nurse over. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind pulling your shirt up, I just need to attach these electrodes so that we can monitor any stress levels.¡± She said looking up at him with a small weak smile, her voice soft and steeped deep in a Minnesotan accent. John gave a throaty chuckle, slowly lifting his shirt. ¡°You sure thats a necessity and you¡¯re not just asking that because you just want to see me shirtless? What¡¯s your name again?¡± he asks wiggling his eyebrows. ¡°Holly Loveridge.¡± She said flatly, face becoming cold and stony as she focused on attaching the electrodes quickly then verifying their bluetooth readouts on her tablet. ¡°He¡¯s hooked up and ready to go when you are.¡± Holly said dismissively walking over to the monitors. Dave stepped over to the glistening black pod and pushed an unseen button, releasing the door latch and allowing the hydraulic arms to slide the door upward like an old suicide door rather than a car trunk. ¡°We just installed a new type of gel for the cushioning and haptic feedback, let me know how it feels.¡± He said as he gestured to the rich red fabric. ¡°Not that it should matter too much, if it works as we hope it will you¡¯ll only need to use it once before you¡¯re able to log in anywhere, anytime even without a pod or VR helmet.¡± ¡°Oh? But wouldn¡¯t that cut the profits on the pod units?¡± John asked dave as he looked at the pod. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Perhaps. There are some that will still prefer to use a pod, just as there are some that still prefer the VR helmets or the old analog or keyboard style games. Beyond that were more interested in offering easier accessibility to more people. You know how there are cafes and other such locations where you can rent time in a pod unit if you don¡¯t own one? Well now you only have to pay once to use a pod then you have access to the game but not just that the internet and entertainment streaming services too. To top it all off, its emp proof. The frequency of energy it runs off of is entirely unaffected by even the most powerful emp blast. The only thing preventing you from playing at that point is time, you have the time you can play. Need to work a 12 hour shift but only have a ten minute break and want to dip into a server event for a bit before it ends? Well now you don¡¯t have to worry about missing it or calling into work, just log in where you stand and do your thing.¡± Dave held his arms wide with a grin. ¡°Epic, let¡¯s do this¡± John said with a smug smile, the monitors beeping as they took note of the slightly elevated heart rates. He slid himself inside then looked around. ¡°Wheres the helmet?¡± ¡°There isn¡¯t one, just lay back and relax. We¡¯ll start up the boot sequence.¡± John took a deep breath then nodded with a thumbs up. Dave pressed the hidden button again, then took a step back as he watched the door sliding silently back into place. Harsh red light slowly began to trace previously invisible lines along the pod and radiate from where the door met the body of the pod. The red light began to pulse rhythmically and a progress bar popped up on one of the medical display screens. Dave clenched his fist as he drew in a slow breath. This is where things began to get complicated on all of the previous tests. He kept his eyes fixed on the pod a moment before glancing at the upload progress bar. Text raced by so fast it couldn¡¯t be read as it list all of the information being uploaded but the bar still hovered at 0% for a moment then ticked up to 2% where it held steady for an agonizingly long time. Finally it jumped to first 28% then 42%. Daves heart skipped a beat, no other test had risen above a 2% synchronicity that fast. He let the barest trickle of hope fill him, his breath slowly slipping from him in a quiet sigh. That was when the EKG and other medical instruments began to wail. Dave felt his stomach bottom out and a string of curses slid from his lips as he turned back to the pod and began to jam the release button for the door. The bar picked up pace then rapidly rising to 99% where it stopped, an error message popping up in a new window as the pod door slid open. John lay inside, occasional tremors and shudders wracking his body. His ashen face was traced with lines of saliva, snot and tears that reflected that hard red light emanating from inside the pod. Medical technicians rushed forward and pulled him from the pod onto a narrow gurney, their frenzied voices becoming distant to his ears even before they ushered him from the room. So close, they had been so close. Dave slammed a fist into the body of the pod and cursed again, all sound fell from around him as his heart beat began to roar in his ears thrumming with enough force to send shock waves through his whole body each time it beat. ¡°Leave me, now.¡± he growled not turning to look at the eyes he knew were on him. season 0: chapter 16 Harsh, rough spun fabric bit into his face and a groan slid from between his lips. The smell of old sweat and sickness wafted up from the fibers making him grimace. His head pounded out an echo of the rhythm his heart stuttered out and he just lay there taking stock of every ache and that screamed for his attention until it was like the most hellish orchestra he had ever had the misfortune of experiencing. The sharp copper taste of blood coated the inside of his mouth seasoned with the occasional grain of what he hoped was dirt and not fragments of his own teeth. Pag cracked an eye open and yelped at the silhouetted figure that hovered over him, with one hand placed on his chest while the other hovered over his face. ¡°Thank Oelia you¡¯re alive. Your constitution must be pretty low to have taken an unarmed hit and been knocked out. It took me a solid ten minutes of healing to bring you back to consciousness.¡± The voice was soft and warm. ¡°Actually I think it was the fight with the thieves knocking my health really low and racking up debuffs that lead to that more than anything.¡± Pag grumbled, placing a hand to his temple before asking. ¡°Where am I?¡± ¡°The penile quarters. Located within Thalins forest. Basically a prison colony in a magic forest. While you were out they held your trial I¡¯m afraid.¡± Pag groaned fighting back a wave of anger. ¡°I¡¯m assuming the verdict was guilty.¡± ¡°Well, thanks to some eyewitness testimony it isn¡¯t all bad. Not guilty on all but one count, destruction of property. Apparently trash is property nowadays. You¡¯re to serve out your time here to repay the debt then you¡¯re free to go with no mark on your record. It would have been worse if even one of the other charges ended up with a guilty charge.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound too bad I suppose. How long, and how many charges were there that I was found not guilty for?¡± ¡°A total of six charges, five of which were dropped. You will have to spend two full days time here. I say it that way because since you are a traveler you can leave this realm at any time however until you have spent a cumulative amount of 48 hours here you cannot go anywhere else here within this realm without further consequences.¡± Pag furrowed his brow then gave a nod noting that his aches and pains had ebbed to the point they were barely noticeable. ¡°That¡¯s reasonable. What do I have to do while I¡¯m here?¡± ¡°Here at this location, much like others in this kingdom, prisoners must work while they serve their time. While others may have you breaking stones or cutting down trees for building you are to collect spirit fruits. These fruits can be used in medicine, alchemy, rituals and an array of other magical things.¡± ¡°The catch being?¡± He asked rolling his wrist in a ¡®go on¡¯ motion. ¡°The catch being that as this is known as Thalin¡¯s forest. things are not always as they appear to be here. Thalin is the God of dreams so I¡¯m sure you can guess how tricky it is. Just in case I¡¯ll spell it out for you. You may not be aware of this yet as you seem to be fairly new here but at night magic tends to go wild and nightmares become reality unless you are within a building or city with specialized runescripting to prevent this. Here it might as well be night time all the time with none of the protective runescripting anywhere outside of the main camp. In addition not all of the spirit fruits are of the same quality, some are completely worthless while others are immensely potent. Without the proper equipment or even specific skills you won''t be able to tell which is which from a glance.¡± ¡°That makes a little more sense.¡± Pag said, glancing up at his HUD to check the time, both inside and outside of the game. ¡°Of course, if you manage to bring back something of high enough worth then you may even be able to have your sentence reduced. Though oftentimes those higher quality fruits are guarded. As such, since we never know when they will be stumbled upon, we send out all prisoners in groups of four or more.¡± Pag blinked, turning his head to look at her. She continued speaking before he could respond, offering him a soft smile. ¡°Now, normally while individuals are here they suffer an experience penalty that cuts all of their gained experience to a quarter of what it normally would be, however for you that would seem to have been waived. Along with all the reputation penalties too apparently. Now I do apologize however I have duties I must attend to so I must be on my way.¡± Pag blinked as sat up as she turned to leave. ¡°Wait, what''s your name?¡± She turned back to him, brows arched, her grin growing slightly. ¡°You can call me Pandora.¡± ¡°Thank you for the information Pandora, and the healing too, I really appreciate it. Ever since I first got here things seem to go wrong left and right then I come across others who offer insight or items to help and it makes it bearable.¡± he said in a rush, standing. ¡°Anytime. If you ever need anything just call for me and I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± She said pushing out the door and slipping into the dusky light with a small laugh and a final curious glance over him. ¡°I suggest learning more about the game lore and systems functions when you get a chance.¡± she called over her shoulder as the door swung shut behind her. Pag sat back, nearly falling as what he now registered to be a cot draped in burlap tilted dangerously sending his heart into his throat. Once his frantic heart had settled he grinned. It looked like he had finally landed a potentially good quest, and in a place where people couldn¡¯t decline to be in a party with him. While not ideal circumstances it was no doubt an opportunity and he was going to make the most of it. He blinked and frantically pulled up his current quest log, breathing a sigh of relief as he noted that the quest to speak to the recruiter didn¡¯t have a time limit, though no doubt getting it out of the way sooner rather than later would be best. Quests like that typically went off of each player''s contribution and with this being a continent spanning war there would no doubt be plenty of experience and loot to be gained. Nodding his head Pag gestured to dismiss the quest log window, resolving to go there as soon as he was released. He huffed slightly in annoyance that he had been sent to prison in the first place, especially as he had had no opportunity to defend himself against the charges but who knew maybe this would offer a good opportunity. He took a moment to remind himself of what Pandora had said, he could have been charged with more and ended up with a longer sentence. Shrugging he pulled up his character sheet and clicked on the help tool. Most of the stats seemed to function like they did in any other RPG so he ignored the common stats of strength, constitution, dexterity, intelligence, wisdom, luck, karma and charisma instead focusing on the Focus, Piety and Hygieian meter stats. While he had an idea of what they were based on gameplay so far, skimming the company provided booklet, and some of the online forums he had never even come across in any other game and the last two were currently set at a big fat zero at his starting but had since changed to the negative. Pag stared at the character sheet, a cold dread spreading through him like a creeping frost. The Hygieian and Piety meters, both stuck at zero, mocked him with their stark emptiness. It wasn''t just the numbers; it was the feeling they evoked¡ªa sense of hollowness, of being incomplete, as if some vital part of him was missing. He thought back to his initial motivation for joining Ludere Online, to find Mark, to escape the mundane reality of his life. It had seemed so simple then, a quest, a goal to strive for in a world of endless possibilities. But now, faced with these strange, unfamiliar stats, he felt a growing sense of disillusionment, a creeping suspicion that the game was not what he had imagined it to be. He¡¯d always been drawn to RPGs, to the idea of creating a character, of shaping a destiny, of escaping into a world where anything was possible. But Ludere Online was different. It felt too real, too intrusive, as if it were probing his thoughts, his emotions, twisting them into something unfamiliar, something unsettling. The Hygieian Meter, monitoring his actions, his perceptions, felt like an invasion of privacy, a constant judgment on his every move. And Piety, a stat he''d never encountered in any other game, hinted at a deeper, more sinister element at play, a connection to the divine, to forces beyond his comprehension. What was this game trying to do to him? Was it just a game? Or was it something more, something that could change him, alter him in ways he couldn''t even begin to imagine? The thought sent a shiver down his spine, a premonition of danger that overshadowed the thrill of adventure, the allure of the unknown that had drawn him to Ludere Online in the first place. He had a feeling that his journey to find Mark was only the beginning, a stepping stone on a path that led to something far greater, something far more terrifying, than he could have ever anticipated. Pag frowned, still somewhat confused by these stats and not particularly comfortable with the fact the latter two were now less than they had been. He had a feeling that would come back to bite him in the rear . He would need to learn more and raise them immediately. He rubbed his neck with a hand and dismissed the information then pulled up the lore tab, scowling at all the blank fields. The only available information looked to be what he already knew from interacting with characters meaning he would need to continue to do so or spend untold amount of time reading books. With a disgusted scoff, not sure what else he had expected, he dismissed the window and looked around the small room of what was likely a prison bunkhouse. It was surprisingly clean and spartan, the only thing of note being the nine other cots sat pushed up along the walls, each with their own threadbare worn burlap covers and the only light filtered in through the milky glass of a narrow window. The pale ash colored wood planks of the building seemed both old and brand new at the same time in some indescribable way. The door swung open pulling Pag from his inspection and he arched a brow at the towering figure that stepped through the doorway and trudged up to him. The towering figure sighed and pulled out a purple leather bound book then held it out. ¡°Name is Neal. Don''t ask what I¡¯m here for, I won''t ask you. No, that''s not my full screen name so no I wont show up on your friends list and no I won''t give you the full screen name. Since you¡¯re new to both this place and the game in general his book will give you all relevant lore so you don¡¯t need to bother asking. If you ask about something that was covered in this book we won''t bother answering. Don''t let the guards or priests see that, you will get in trouble. You¡¯ll be on the day shift with me and the boys, it seems you¡¯re lucky our shift just ended. We get an hour after each shift to unwind before we¡¯re given chores to do around the camp then its dinner followed by lights out. We get up in the morning, meet with the clerics who put a minor blessing on us, the buff will keep some of the things in the forest away, then we get breakfast and our rations for lunch before heading to the forest. Each inmate here has a set amount of time they have to serve but they also have to gather a minimum amount of fruits each day. While you can eat these fruits and there is no specific rule against it, I highly advise that you don¡¯t do it. They hold raw unprocessed mana in them and you never know if they are the same type or in some cases types as what is in your body or how potent they may be. I¡¯ve seen what happens to normal fighter type classes who ate them, I can only imagine what happens when a magic class eats them. Best case scenario? You get higher than a kite while spewing magic all over the place. Worst case?¡± Here he stopped talking and mimicked the sound of an explosion while motioning with his hands. Having apparently finished he turned, trudging over to a cot and flipping into it. Pag stood there for a moment before looking down at the book and frowning. <*Note this edition of the book is the unsanctioned edition and differs greatly from the edition that the priests of Tynoril have issued. Read it to learn forbidden or lost lore. Caution! Carrying this item can lead to Major legal consequences if caught. Alternatively you may opt to turn the book in to the warden and inform them of who gave you the item for a reward and reputation gain however you will lose reputation with all prisoners or corrupt prison overseers if you do.> Pag blinked, quietly thanking Neal and carefully sat on his cot to read. First Era : * Translators note, His name and any relevant imagery has been obscured in every document we have located thus for ???*, stared into the nothingness that surrounded him and ached with loneliness. Despite having a brother he felt unheard, unloved, and undesired. As time passed ??? began to grow in wisdom, patience and power and it is with these things that he became the father of mortals, creatures, Gods, and Goddesses. ??? wove the cosmos from the bitter tears that he had wept in his loneliness giving them a measure of his power so that they shone. As he looked upon the glittering this he smiled and showed his brother. ???¡¯s brother scoffed and mocked him for wasting his gifts this way. Wishing for someone to share his creation with, he created mortals of all shapes and sizes, happily watching as they lived their lives in the day, then fell asleep telling incredible stories to explain the lights in the skies each night. ??? Delighted in the stories so much that he began to realign them, even forming some of the heroes and creatures with them from the stories the mortals told. While none were close to accurate the stories were creative and brought a measure of happiness to ??? each time they were told or a new one invented. As time passed ??? began to become uneasy, noticing how his brother edged ever closer to the mortals radiating greed and hate in equal measure. Finally ??? pushed his brother aside and far away from the mortals, creating beings entirely unlike those who dwelled on the planet far below. Weary and fearful ??? told his newly born divine children to go unto the mortals, his first born, and guide them as he needed to rest lest he fail to fend off his Brother Textos who had long envied his creations despite mocking them. His brother preferred to horde his power rather than apply it, create with it or share it with others. Like all good children they happily jumped to do as he asked, assuring him they would not fail. However while he slept, recovering from the effort to create the cosmos and all that dwelt within, his brother slipped past him and found a mortal who was much like himself, envying his brothers many gifts and bounties. Textos began to whisper in the man''s ear, promising him that if only he did his bidding he would grant him all that his brother had. For years the man fought the temptation but Textos was patient and persistent. Finally the man gave in and swore to do as Textos wished, with this Textos left the mortal world telling the man he would return when it was time. Textos began to fill the land with wild creatures that hunted the mortals down or warped them in horrifying ways. He spread disease, misinformation, created droughts and famine, whipped up devastating storms, pulled the spark of power ??? had gifted them from their souls so they could no longer weave spells, and began to call out to the divine children ??? had left to watch over the mortals begging them to play. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.When ??? awoke he looked upon the world and began to fret, the mortals were being influenced in uneven and unpredictable ways by his children while his brother horded his gifts leading to many of the mortals being unaware of his existence. Bothys had launched the humans into a terrible war, turning them from their intended philosophical debates and pursuits to all out atrocities, wrath and rage. The war became so bad that those who still held some of the philosophical intentions left the continent in search of a new place to live. Following Bothys'' actions Idona and her husband Thurtris became overwhelmed attempting to collect mortal souls and guide them to their new lives, or if the soul was too damaged to its final resting place. Many souls sought refuge in objects and other people because Idona could not collect them while many children were stillborn because Thurtris could not place them all fast enough. Zedite had began attempting to expand his influence and thereby the ocean, swallowing two entire swathes of land leaving many islands so ??? threw him into the deepest depths of the ocean, placing a massive shelf of rock over him to hold him but sought to rectify other issues before pushing the ocean back. Havrasil and Zudea had destroyed one of the two moons, knocking chunks into the blackness of the void and into the ocean while they wrestled after an argument. The debris that had not fallen to the mortal plane below now hung throughout the vast void, the power that had once held it in one coherent piece now bleeding out as light. His twins Mahena and Runha had been living amongst the reptilian-like island people who had settled on the broken remnants of the moon that had once sat on a massive salt plane only to be surrounded by encroaching ocean tides. Here the two sat in on their courts to offer judgment of laws and criminals no matter how small the alleged crime. Mahena, the elder, urged absolute punishment regardless of circumstances seeing law as a black and white subject. If they were guilty, they were guilty. Runha urged for compassion, rehabilitation and forgiveness, stating that oftentimes circumstances were what lead to the issue. That man didn¡¯t intentionally kill his father, he had simply acted in self defense when his father had drunkenly attacked him in the night. That child only stole because their parents had died in the storm while their siblings had fallen ill and all their coins went to purchasing medicine for them with nothing left for food. The two often fell upon each other in these sessions, unable to see the opposing perspectives and angry that the other seemingly refused to see theirs. Those who agreed fighting alongside them, often cases were decided by the victor of the fight rather than evidence. For the strife that his children had wrought he sealed the two to two of the universal laws of space and time so that they may never meet again despite being right next to each other yet allowing them the opportunity to see things from the others perspective. It is in this time that Textos returned to the man who had grown bitter and cold hearted in his old age, blaming much of his own failings and shortcomings on his brother. He handed him a spear of pure darkness and ordered the man to slay ??? brother when he came down the next day. The man watched as ??? stood among the local mortals attempting to calm them and the man boiled with anger reminded of his brother. He approached ??? and with a great thrust plunged the spear into his back so hard it exited his chest, the spear head biting deep into the ground. Blood flew out in such force that even the tiniest of droplets landed far across the world. The power contained within the blood quickly blossoming into powerful fruits, merging with metal ores deep within the ground or merging with once frail beasts. These are now often referred to as spirit fruits, spirit ores and spirit beasts and each contain a measure of ??? vast power. The man did not strike a fatal blow, however, merely pinning ??? to the ground. Textos railed at the man, angry at the mortals failure and unwilling to risk his existence by coming down to finish the job. Quickly Textos wove intricate layers of runes around his brother then turned to the mortal and said that though the man would receive what he wished most he and all those descended of him would now have to ensure that ??? never got free from where he was now or they would be punished. The man spewed lies to those that would listen about how ??? had intended them as slaves and enlisted all those around him to build up a mountain of a prison around ??? weaving spells with the very magic ??? had gifted them to hold him tight. Once this was complete those who had helped him congratulated him and thanked him for working to lock the evil away despite how old he had grown during their efforts. One by one they stepped forwards with gifts and vows of loyalty. It was with this that he became the first official King of Mankind. His kingdom took his name, Draggor, and began to spread out claiming much of the surrounding land to better hide the location of the prison that held ???. Textos has since worked to suppress all knowledge of ??? to prevent him from gaining followers and thereby power to break free. Be aware reader in your travels for the fickle divine children of ??? take many forms but are unable to lie about their names. If you come across any of them or their favored exercise extreme caution for it is unknown if any still harbor any allegiance to Textos and many still war with one another. As names have power and can often tell you much about a person it is important that you insist on getting the true name of all those you deal with rather than allowing them to push it off even if you do not truly believe there is a possibility that they may be one of ??? children or their favored. It is important to note that often they will offer an answer such as ¡°You may call me Joane¡± in an attempt to obscure their identity and giving any power over them away. Nakruer: God of Shadows. Favored by rogues, assassins, thieves, or any who who must use some form of stealth. Senos: God of the Harvest, Fall and bounty. Zedite: God of the oceans Onthir : God of the Skies Lidos: God of the mountains. Ilmas: God of pleasure and spring Oelia : Goddess of Miracles, Music, and Triumph Mahena : Goddess of Law and time Runha : God of Law and space Bothys : Goddess of Destruction, war, the lost Thurtris : God of the Dead Idona : Goddess of Death Zudea : God of chaos and trickery Havrasil : God of Summer, Alcohol, Light and Cheese Textos : God of Fall, knowledge and the Void. Thalin : God of Dreams Second Era: In the early years of the second era the island on which Mahena and Runha had came down was contested by both the Kingdom of Draggor and the infantile yet rapidly growing Kingdom of Soohan. In a desperate attempt to put an end to the dispute the Elven people attempted to summon a god into mortal flesh to give them the edge they needed against both the humans and rapidly growing population of the reptilian people however the spell backfired. The magical feedback hitting a full third of their population and forcing them to take on a new draconic aspect, the other two thirds saw their mana channels forcefully torn open by the feedback. With their mana channels now decimated, their mana suffused every cell in their body rather than simply their core center allowing them a larger mana pool and far greater control but making them entirely dependent area with dense ambient mana. The mana feed back from this spell also had devastating consequences for other races as well. The Quang who were at ground zero of the blast, attempting to aide the soldiers of Draggor in overwhelming the elves of soohan while they were in the middle of their ritual were struck and fundamentally altered as well. Those that had access elemental based magic lost their original forms, they were torn away by the element that they had the highest affinity for, while their mana crystallized into a gem that embedded itself in their soul. They were now elemental creatures who could, if they chose, take on a humanoid form that was only given away by the crystallized mana gem now embedded in their soul usually appearing over their heart or in their forehead. These individuals were renamed the Patala and deemed lesser than the Quang who still held their original forms. Since this event the Patala have taken on a near slave like existence to the unchanged Quang, being indebted to their oppressors from the moment of their birth despite. Despite their superior magical capabilities they are often physically weak and oftentimes the Quang will place seals that limit their accessing mana. Perhaps the most notable change to the world after ??? was sealed away was the effect that Zedite wrought upon the ocean, making it rage and spawning countless horrors in its depths. This actions has rendered it impassable thus locking the Kingdoms of Draggor, Soohan and the Lunar Empire to the region and cutting off all trade with the other continents such as-. ¡°Guard incoming¡± a weaselly voice hissed pulling Pag from the book. ¡°Is it chore time already? Or we getting inspections?¡± another sighed ¡°Too early for chores and that don¡¯t look like one of the guards. I think it may be the warden.¡± replied another. Pag hurriedly stored the book in his inventory, furrowing his brow in confusion when he noticed everything in his inventory was gone though he was thankful they had allowed him to keep his clothes. Dismissing the inventory window he noted that many of the other occupants in the bunkhouse still had their own mismatched sets too. In fact the only exception was one lone and very well muscled figure who lounged idly on their cot with only a worn loin cloth on as if posing for the front of a magazine. Studying the man he saw they had an odd combination of elven and human features. His eyes jumped from the pointed ears, to high cheek bones and thick flowing locks of an elf then to the deep set hooded eyes the color of chocolate, to strong cleft chin and wide shoulders of a Draggor man who had spent many years doing hard work. Pag grimaced, quickly looking away when the muscled man looked at him and winked with a knowing smile. Shaking his head Pag frowned, he hadn''t been aware that you could pick a hybrid race, then again with as many choices as there were in classes he probably shouldn¡¯t be surprised. It probably was an option that he hadn¡¯t been offered due to his early ejection from the tutorial, or maybe it was something you had to unlock once with in the game. He added it to the list of things he would have to look into, if it was something you had to pick at the beginning then it was unlikely something that he would bother with after all the stuff he had already went through with this character. The door swung slowly on silent hinges and the occupants of the bunkhouse around him all took a sharp collective inhale, pulling Pag from his thoughts. A thin wiry figure in plain linen clothes stepped in and looked around with cold dark eyes. ¡°Evening warden. What can we do for you?¡± Neal said lazily stretching as he stood up. Cold eyes swept over each of them in turn for long lingering moments before leaning against the door frame with a sigh. ¡°What can you do for me? Honestly, nothing. However we have an issue. One of the night crews stumbled into what we had assumed to be hog weed last night. Returned covered in the sap and bristles with burns already forming even in the weak dawn light. Turns out it wasn''t hog weed. Burns are far worse than what they should be and it seems that its not actually the sun light that makes the sap burn more but the moonlight. Physicians think it may have been Lunar Lace, looks and acts a lot like it but reacts to moonlight and magic. We need a crew to take their place and if possible get clippings so we can confirm what it is. If it is contained then we mark it as a no go area, if it is spreading then we need to exterminate it. I thought I¡¯d offer it to you and your crew before the others since most of you have the longest sentences. Taking this shift would count as double time towards time needed to complete your sentence and you¡¯ll get extra rations.¡± ¡°I assume we¡¯ll still have to work our normal shift tomorrow as well?¡± ¡°Yes, but you will be given extra time between shifts to rest up.¡± ¡°How much extra time?¡± ¡°Instead of the usual two hours between shifts going out we will give you four, it''s the most we can manage without an uproar, or risking an incursion. After tomorrow it will be your rest day, I can arrange for some of the normal chores your crew does to be shifted elsewhere.¡± ¡°How long will the other crew be out?¡± the weaselly voice interjected from one of the cots. ¡°We¡¯re hoping they will be up and running again tomorrow night but if they aren¡¯t then you will have the first option again as well, same deal. Double time counted towards time served, extra rations, less chores. Though if they¡¯re still out after that I wont be allowed to offer it again, it''ll have to be another team that does it. Have to avoid riots and the pencil pushers will only let me clear so much of each prisoners sentences like that before they try to start pushing to send the really bad prisoners here again.¡± ¡°Yeah we don¡¯t want another shade to break out, or worse. I can''t speak for the others but I¡¯m in, I''ll do both nights if need be.¡± The warden sighed and nodded, thanking each of the others in the room by name as they accepted the offer then blinking and turning to Pag with an arched brow. ¡°So you¡¯re telling me that if I go out tonight then again on the normal shift tomorrow followed by tomorrow night I¡¯m done?¡± Pag asked. The wardens narrowed thoughtfully as he looked at Pag then nodded. ¡°That¡¯d be correct. Though since you are new, and a magic user at that, I¡¯ll tell you why you are getting double time. It¡¯s not that you¡¯re pulling an extra shift. It¡¯s that it is more dangerous in true night than the faux twilight that we spend much of the day in. Your thoughts, your fears, your nightmares can take on a life of their own outside the runescript boundary formations that protect the camp. Just like night anywhere else you have a very high chance that any spell you cast will go wild, backfiring or just outright not working. While that may not sound much different than anywhere else on the continent at night, here those things seem to be amplified especially if you do not have a high level of piety and focus. If you have low levels in these I suggest you avoid casting spells. As you are here on one of the lowest level charges you will need to return with at least three spirit fruits on each of your outings or you will be penalized. Any penalty goes on your record, and each added to your record means more time served and less rations. If you garner too many penalties they may send you somewhere worse.¡± ¡°Also you would technically be doing excess time if you ended up going out both nights, if that happens we¡¯ll see about getting you something like some reputation, or a few extra coins. I can¡¯t offer anything solid as to what or how much, I¡¯d need to get it approved first but I¡¯ll make sure you get something.¡± The warden''s proposition hung in the air, the implications of the time dilation suddenly hitting Pag with the force of a rogue spell. His gaze flickers to his HUD, his mind racing as he compares the local time in Ludere Online with the real-world time displayed in a smaller window. A strange mix of apprehension and exhilaration stirs within him. He''s been logged in for a little over an hour, but in the game world, it''s already approaching nightfall. Barely a full day had passed in here, though with everything that had happened it seemed like so much longer. He thought, his mind struggling to grasp the concept and weigh the situation before him. The warden''s offer took on a whole new dimension. By accepting the night shift, he could potentially serve his entire sentence within a single real-world night. He could be free to explore the world, to search for Mark, and still have plenty of time before his shift ended or before he had to worry about being automatically logged out. The idea is both tempting and unsettling. It felt like he had discovered a cheat code, a way to bend time to his will. But there''s a nagging unease that whispers warnings he can''t ignore. What are the long-term consequences of this distorted time flow? Clearly there was the possibility of some if the patch notes were any indication. He would also definitely need to keep it in mind if he was offered a timed quest. Pag looked back at the warden, his initial hesitation dissolving into a firm resolve. "I''ll do it," he says, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind. He''d accept the challenge, the risks, and the incredible potential that this extra shift and the time-bending game had to offer him. season 0: chapter 17 The developer¡¯s room was a symphony of digital stress, the constant hum of servers a steady counterpoint to the frantic clicking of keyboards. Frank, fueled by caffeine and a gnawing sense of dread, watched the logs scroll across his monitor, his eyes searching for the telltale signs of PillowHorror''s latest exploit. ¡°He¡¯s done it again,¡± Jason exclaimed from across the room, his voice a mix of disbelief and grudging admiration. "He¡¯s built a tank.¡± Frank¡¯s heart sank. Of all the things PillowHorror could have crafted using the Alpha shop and the game¡¯s increasingly malleable physics engine, a tank was perhaps the most alarming. It was a blatant disregard for the intended medieval fantasy setting, a jarring anachronism that spoke volumes about the player¡¯s growing power and influence within the game. "A tank?" Ian, the youngest of the developers, chimed in, his voice laced with morbid curiosity. "What kind of tank?" "Not the kind you''d find in a history book," Jason replied, his voice grim. "It''s¡­ cobbled together from spare parts. A mishmash of metal and magic, held together by sheer force of will and some very creative dancing around our coding.¡± Frank pulled up the in-game feed on his monitor, the image resolving into a chaotic scene of destruction. A crudely assembled tank, its mismatched parts somehow fused into a bizarrely functional war machine, rumbled through the heart of the Ancestors Forest near Soohan, leaving a trail of smoldering trees and bewildered NPCs in its wake. ¡°He¡¯s using it to attack the Elven outposts,¡± Jason continued, his voice tight with tension. ¡°The defenses are crumbling, and the NPCs¡­ they don¡¯t stand a chance.¡± The developers watched in stunned silence as PillowHorror¡¯s tank, a grotesque parody of modern warfare, laid waste to the carefully crafted virtual landscape. It was a stark demonstration of the escalating power creep in the game, a testament to PillowHorror¡¯s ability to exploit the system and bend the rules to his will. ¡°We have to stop him,¡± Ian said, his youthful enthusiasm tempered by a growing sense of unease. ¡°This is getting out of control.¡± But Frank, his brow furrowed in thought, wasn''t so sure. He knew the dangers of interfering directly with PillowHorror¡¯s exploits. The player had a knack for turning even the most well-intentioned intervention into a catastrophic chain reaction. ¡°What if this is what he wants?¡± Frank muttered, his voice low and thoughtful. ¡°What if this is all part of some elaborate plan?¡± He thought back to the rumors of the Lazarus Project, the whispers of a hidden agenda within Alluring Realms, the unsettling truth behind the deaths of the eight testers. What if PillowHorror was more than just a rogue player? What if he was a pawn in a larger game, a catalyst for something far more sinister? The questions lingered in the air, heavy and unanswered, as the developers watched PillowHorror¡¯s tank continue its rampage across the virtual world. They had created a game, a world of infinite possibilities, but they were quickly losing control of their creation. And the consequences of that loss of control could be far more devastating than any of them had ever imagined. ¡°He¡¯s heading for the capital,¡± Jason said, his voice tight with tension. His fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up a detailed map of the game world. ¡°He¡¯s going to attack the Royal Palace.¡± Frank¡¯s heart sank. The Royal Palace was the heart of the Soohan kingdom, a symbol of power and authority, carefully designed with intricate defenses and populated with high-level NPCs. An attack on the palace was not just a violation of the game¡¯s narrative, it was a direct challenge to the established order. A place they had just reverted to pre pyroclasmic defaults after their own careful dancing around the AIs. ¡°What¡¯s his objective?¡± Ian asked, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and morbid fascination. ¡°Is he just trying to cause chaos? Or is there something more to this?¡± Frank shook his head, unable to answer. He knew PillowHorror¡¯s penchant for chaos, but this latest exploit felt different, more calculated, more purposeful. It was as if the player was sending a message, a demonstration of power that went beyond mere destruction. ¡°He¡¯s going to use it to make a statement,¡± Sean said, his voice low and thoughtful. He leaned back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face. "He''s going to show everyone what happens when you push him too far." Sean, ever the contrarian, seemed almost amused by the unfolding events. He had a strange, almost symbiotic relationship with PillowHorror, a grudging respect for the player¡¯s ability to exploit the system, to find the cracks in the carefully constructed code and pry them open. ¡°We can¡¯t let him get away with this,¡± Jason said, his frustration evident. ¡°We have to do something.¡± ¡°What do you suggest we do?¡± Frank asked, his voice laced with weariness. He knew the dangers of interfering with PillowHorror. Every attempt to curb his actions had only fueled his ingenuity, pushing him to find new and more creative ways to disrupt the game. ¡°We could ban him,¡± Ian suggested, his voice hesitant. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.¡°And risk triggering one of the AIs?¡± Frank countered, his gaze sharp. ¡°We could try to redirect him,¡± Sean offered, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. ¡°Give him a new target, something more¡­ challenging.¡± Frank considered the suggestion, weighing the risks and potential benefits. Redirecting PillowHorror¡¯s attention might buy them some time, might allow them to address the underlying issues with the game¡¯s mechanics, to reinforce the defenses, to prepare for the inevitable escalation of the conflict. ¡°Alright,¡± Frank said, a note of resignation in his voice. ¡°Let¡¯s give him a new target. Let¡¯s see if we can¡¯t turn this to our advantage.¡± The developers turned their attention back to their monitors, their fingers flying across the keyboards, the hum of the servers a steady drone as they began to rewrite the narrative, to manipulate the game world, to set a new stage for PillowHorror¡¯s destructive ambition. The game had changed. And the developers, once the architects of this virtual world, were now scrambling to keep up, to maintain some semblance of control as the lines between reality and the virtual realm blurred, as the consequences of their creation spiraled beyond their grasp. Frank¡¯s mind raced, sifting through the game¡¯s lore, its maps, its hidden corners, searching for a target worthy of PillowHorror¡¯s destructive attention. He needed something formidable, something that would challenge the player¡¯s skills and resources, something that would buy them time to address the growing power imbalance within the game. ¡°What about the Sunken Ruins?¡± Ian suggested, his voice hesitant. ¡°Those were always meant to be a high-level challenge, something for players to tackle much later in the game just before the new continent exspansions.¡± The Sunken Ruins, a sprawling complex of underwater caverns and temples attached to the Lunar empire, were a remnant of a lost civilization, steeped in mystery and rumored to be guarded by powerful creatures and ancient magic. They were intentionally designed to be difficult to access and even more difficult to navigate, a challenge reserved for the most experienced and well-equipped players. ¡°It might work,¡± Sean said, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. ¡°But we¡¯d need to make sure he has a reason to go there. PillowHorror doesn¡¯t do random acts of destruction. He needs a goal, a purpose. It has to pay out too, no goose chase or we will have a repeat of the draggor kings tournament incident.¡± Frank nodded in agreement. PillowHorror was driven by a strange combination of ambition, curiosity, and a desire to test the limits of the game. To redirect his attention, they needed to provide him with a compelling motivation, something that would pique his interest and lure him away from the Draggor capital. ¡°What if we planted a rumor?¡± Frank suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye. ¡°A whisper of a hidden artifact, something powerful, something unique, something that only PillowHorror would be skilled enough to obtain.¡± The idea took root, a seed of possibility in the fertile ground of desperation. They could manipulate the in-game rumors, the whispers that spread among players, the threads of speculation that wove through the forums and chatrooms. They could create a legend, a myth, a treasure so alluring that it would draw PillowHorror¡¯s attention away from the Draggor kingdom and towards the depths of the Sunken Ruins. ¡°We could call it the Heart of the Leviathan,¡± Ian suggested, his imagination catching fire. ¡°A legendary artifact said to grant the wielder control over the ocean¡¯s currents, the power to summon storms, the ability to command sea monsters. We could even convince one of the unused AIs to act as some hidden or forgotten deity of some sort.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a long shot,¡± Jason cautioned, his voice laced with doubt. ¡°But it might be our only option.¡± Frank nodded, a sense of resolve hardening his features. They had created a game, a world of infinite possibilities. But they had also created a monster, a player who threatened to unravel the very fabric of their creation. It was time to fight fire with fire, to use their knowledge of the game, their understanding of PillowHorror¡¯s motivations, to manipulate the narrative, to redirect the chaos, to buy themselves time. ¡°Let¡¯s do it,¡± Frank said, his voice firm. ¡°Let¡¯s plant the seeds of a legend. Let¡¯s give PillowHorror something new to obsess over.¡± The developers set to work, their fingers dancing across keyboards, their minds weaving a web of intrigue and deception. They crafted whispers and rumors, planted clues and hints, manipulated the in-game events, all with the singular goal of redirecting PillowHorror¡¯s attention, of steering him away from the heart of the Draggor kingdom and towards the perilous depths of the Sunken Ruins. The fate of the game, the balance of power, the very nature of reality within the virtual realm, hung in the balance. The game had changed. And the developers, once the architects of this world, were now forced to become players, to engage in a high-stakes game of manipulation and control, with a rogue player as their opponent and the fate of their creation as the prize. season 0: chapter 18 King Dunstan paced in a slow meandering circle, the stained glass painting his face in greens and violets showing deep contrasts in the expressions he cycled through. From rage, to disbelief, to ashen sickness and loss, to sorrow and back to rage. Queen Eadwig sat in a sprawled heap on a small velvet couch, her face a crumpled map of the loss of her dearest son, her eyes staring unfocused at the wall. The twins sniffled in the corner where they huddled among their wooden soldiers and dolls while their elder sister sat between them patting their backs or petting their hair when their sobs rose in volume. The man in the shadows took this all in without a word, waiting. The king would speak in his own time and with his current state it wouldn¡¯t bode well to test his mood. Without preamble the king stopped and turned his back to the room. ¡°Shasta, please take the twins to my drawing room. Your mother and I have business to tend to.¡± His voice was firm but softened as he added. ¡°We will join you momentarily. I¡¯ll have one of the maids bring you some sweets and drinks.¡± The girl nodded near imperceptibly before she stood taking their hands in hers, whispering soft encouragement to them as she ushered them out the door. Dunstan stood there a few moments longer as their footsteps echoed in the hallway, his shoulders squared and stiff. A small shudder ran through him and he deflated, turning to face the man who had waited in silence. He was obscenely tall, his silver hair hanging in a curtain around him down to his waist glimmered with the various hues thrown out by the stained glass windows of the chapel. His pale blue eyes were watchful as the king studied him. King Dunstan took in a deep breath,¡°I want you to find whoever is responsible for this. I would prefer to have them alive, to make them pay for this but- ¡° ¡°No, no buts. They will be brought alive. I want to make them pay, I want to repay them for the pain that they have so graciously gifted us.¡± Queen Eadwig began as she rose swiftly to her feet. ¡°I want to drag them naked through the streets by their nose. Gouge out their eyes with the spoon that we used to feed Tomlin and flay them alive so that their skin may be made into a blanket. Then I want them to be placed beneath the toilets so that I may rise in the morning. I can shit on them until all that is left of them is dust and compost to feed the roses that he once helped me tend.¡± Her voice was husky from tears, her eyes frenzied as she stalked over to the man. With a silent nod he accepted the quest, a rush of electricity ran through his body and he bowed.