《We Are The Last - A Sci-Fi Novel》


 We Are The Last - Chapter 1 - Begin Again

    We are the last.


    In three minutes and fifty-nine seconds, we will die and humanity with us. I stare across at the last people on earth and I can¡¯t help but wonder what could have been done differently. How had we reached this point in time to where the entirety of the human race resulted in the three women and two men that existed in this room? None of us can find the courage to look each other in the eye. Maybe it¡¯s that we grow weary of breath.


    Each of us has found their respective corner in the room except me. I¡¯m positioned in the center, staring forward at the comforting brown shades pulled shut. A few of them shuffle, growing restless at the last remaining moments. Three minutes. There¡¯s a part of me rising, I expected as much. Human survival instinct is famed for its stubbornness. Or, it used to be. Something is eating at me.


    There was something some years ago that a professor had mentioned in my Chemistry class. I hadn¡¯t thought much on it until the following year in Biology. The breaking down of cells, how gravity had a profound effect on humans. Not surprisingly it went all the way down to a molecular level. Aging wasn¡¯t only in our DNA, it was the product of the combined forces of environmental pressures and the strains we placed on our bodies. I¡¯m not sure why I am thinking on this now, but I know I am on to something. All of the others may have lost faith in themselves, but I have never given up.


    Three minutes and thirty-nine seconds. The large numbers on our Scyvies glare back at us from our wrists, the once calming blue a countdown to death. I close my eyes and draw a breath savoring the clean, fresh air. This wasn¡¯t like back home, where it was required to walk outside in a mask. I always did, knowing what waited on the other side. That stench would never go away, no matter how many times they cleaned it. It wasn¡¯t the stench that was the hard part. It was what followed from smelling it. Memories. Memories that we would all soon try our hardest to forget.


    ¡°Hull, cut it out.¡± A low rumble cuts the silence.


    I ignore him, keeping my eyes pressed shut. I breathe in, then out, my mind grasping at the earlier memories. There¡¯s a faint glimmer suspended in the back of my eyelids. I slow my heart rate, only focusing on my breath and the image.


    ¡°I said knock it off,¡± Harris growls.


    There¡¯s a faint scraping noise as Harris jumps to his feet. I again respond with nothing. Let these assholes give up. I¡¯m finding a way out.


    ¡°Put a cork in it, Harris.¡± Ash drawls. I can¡¯t help but smile at the tough son of a bitch. She never takes anyone¡¯s shit and always has my back. She¡¯s never understood me, but she fights like hell by my side. I think it¡¯s secretly because she buys into what I¡¯m selling. I should have gotten into the pyramid scheme business, I would have made a fortune.


    ¡°I will not put a fucking cork in it, breeder.¡± He spits on the floor. Harris has gone too far. That word is inexcusable, especially on this team. The room gasps at the word. I¡¯m waiting for some kind of angry retort, or hear Harris howl in pain. The only thing that sounds is Ash¡¯s snort and then quieted words.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to remember that after me and Hull get out of here, shit stain.¡±


    I feel the air stir as someone seats themselves in front of me. Their scent hits me and I know it¡¯s Ash. Her calloused fingers rest over mine and her energy washes over me. It¡¯s warm like summer rain.


    ¡°These idiots might not see it, but something¡¯s changed ¡®bout you in the last few minutes.¡± I smile crookedly at her words. Perceptive as ever. I don¡¯t open my eyes.


    ¡°You remember last year, by the docks?¡± She¡¯s quiet for a few beats, mulling it over. ¡°You talking about that time traveling nonsense from your professor again?¡± The glimmer is turning into a distorted image. It reminds me of looking out from a window in my youth. My breath hitches for a second as sweat beads my brow. It is a window. A small two foot by two-foot window from the old house off of Jupiter Run. The distortion is from the rain, pouring outside. I can¡¯t get over the smell. I¡¯ve never been able to get it right over the years but today it¡¯s there. A strong smell of gardenias, fresh cut grass, and dirt. Ash is here next to me, but still only seated in the room.


    ¡°Hull, that¡¯s pseudo-science BS. You know that, right? Time travel ain¡¯t real.¡± Her voice betrays her inner thoughts. I can tell she is getting excited.


    ¡°What the fuck is with you two? Acting like you got some way out of this. It¡¯s bullshit.¡±


    ¡°Harris,¡± Cutter¡¯s voice is like velvet, but there is a distinct edge to it. ¡°If you don¡¯t shut the fuck up, you¡¯re not going to make the last minute or so with the rest of us.¡±


    Harris quiets and there are footsteps as the others circle around me and Ash. Our Scyvies give us the last minute warning with one small beep. ¡°You two hippies going to enlighten the rest of us?¡± Dawn has finally decided to join in. Mostly, because Cutter has. They had been travel companions for years before they met up with the group.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have enough time for me to explain in full.¡± I mutter, ¡°You remember what I taught you?¡±


    Harris is on the floor, beside himself in laughter. ¡°Here we fucking go again. Join our consciousness, find your fondest memory, travel back to your youth, our minds are the key. God damn horseshit.¡± His laughter is the only one in the room as the others quiet. Our breathing begins to sync. I let my mind wander back to that moment. The temperature in the room begins to drop rapidly. I know they are getting it ready for our swift departure. I¡¯d read somewhere that it barely took a handful of seconds before you were gone. Even if this doesn¡¯t work, at least we can die knowing that we tried.


    The Scyvies give the thirty-second warning, two small clinks in rapid succession.


    In seconds, the room is gone. I can no longer feel myself drawing breath or the goosebumps that have spread across my skin. The dull pain in my back and slowly numbing hindquarters has disappeared as I travel along the length of the glimmer. I find myself wondering what this must look like to the others. Everyone¡¯s ride is different.


    What are they seeing at this very moment? Ash is probably remembering the heat, long summers, and popsicles. She could go on for hours talking about the different flavors of popsicles, and each of her favorites and why. It was an odd thing, hearing a teen girl pine over flavored ice, but I knew they meant more than that. Back when her father had been alive, he had run a small Popsicle stand with snacks on the weekends for the local kids. It was an outdated thing for the time, but the kids loved it. They would set alarms on their visors, unplug and venture outside to have one of his homemade masterpieces.


    Most of us had plugged in some time ago and never came back. It started around the year 2025 with the VR technology at its peak. Everyone that was anyone owned one. With prices dropping by the months, it was possible for just about everyone to get their hands on one. Eventually, they became state issued if you were of school age and was mandatory to own one for the public school system. Because of the decline in need for office space, and with the new technology, most people contracted from home. If you needed something, you ordered it online. It was then directly dropped through the wall in a chute so that it wasn¡¯t left outside.


    Theft was a way of life in most units and was expected. If something was left outside of your door, or you hadn¡¯t had a proper chute installed, that was your own problem. There were a few people that didn¡¯t either have the means, or the mental capacity to actually own VR gear. These were known as the Outsiders and them like many others existed before the drastic decline in the population around 2039.


    It wasn¡¯t that the people stopped having children, it¡¯s that there was no longer a desire or need to. Fast forward to 2051 and just about everyone had opted out of childbirth or test tube children. Once we had located the specific chain of DNA that caused aging, along with decreasing the effects of outer stimuli, such as gravity damage as well as pollution, people were living to be hundreds of years old. We had some inkling of aging according to the history books some time ago.


    Around the year 2006 scientists had begun to realize that eating too much, in combination with too much direct sunlight also contributed to the rapid deterioration of cells on the molecular level. Once we unlocked the secret of aging in our DNA, most aging could be entirely reversed or frozen. It went from monthly treatments to every six months, and then finally years. Before the global war, the United States had boasted that their scientists were working on a formula that you would need only take once in your lifetime at the exact moment you wanted to freeze your aging.


    For the elders, this also meant that in just ten small treatments, they could go back to their peak years in their life. We had finally discovered the fountain of youth, and it came not from the box jellyfish-like people had suspected it would, but by accident from a single man that had spent his entire life isolated from the world.


    Robert Cromwell, of the 200 block on Beacon St. in Somerville Massachusetts had been recorded as owning the property since the early 1930s. According to the bank records, the house was family owned and had been passed down for generations. That was only partially true. It was true that it had run in the family and had been since the 1930s, but the owner wasn¡¯t Robert Cromwell Jr. As a matter of fact, Cromwell had no children whatsoever. He had simply changed his name over the years.


    When they had discovered his secret in 2033, he had lived to be a hundred and thirty-three years old. This wouldn¡¯t have been odd, except for the fact that he appeared to be a twenty-five-year-old male, with dark brown hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. The man had more money than several generations of families combined, and yet curiously he stayed in the quaint two-story home with blue paint and white trim. It was sad, really when they confiscated his home and he was imprisoned for tax evasion. He later died in his jail cell three months into his sentence and the public was told that he had a rare genetic disorder that didn¡¯t age him on the outside, but that his organs had failed him.


    None of us bought that.


    It became a long-running joke on the internet. Sites dedicated to finding the man that could cheat death. Like many conspiracy nuts, people would post photos of Cromwell in a cabin in the woods, or in other countries boarding a plane. But there was a difference now, people could immediately tell if the photos were fake or not using simple software you could download from any mobile device, and it was free. More often than not he was spotted in a type of military garb or a lab coat, which lead everyone to believe that he had in fact, not died but had been forced to join a team of scientists so that old wealthy people in California and New York could buy their way into eternity.


    Many people believed that we would eventually just upload our consciousness onto a hard drive and into bodies that never aged. But the issue with this was how to do it. It was never taken directly from the source, it was collected from various social Media, texts, emails, recorded Skype conversations, facial recognition software and personality traits related to them, and then used to create a ¡®perfect being with no need of organs.¡¯ The issue with this is that even with advanced programming, we still had not mastered the ability to make them entirely©¤ human.


    They could mimic humans and could come damn close to actually being human but they still couldn¡¯t pass the Turing test. Even now, in the year 2067, we still have not mastered it. Though, to be fair we stopped pursuing that quickly after finding the secrets to our own aging process. A.I. was now used as a means of cheap labor, sexual pleasure, and companions. Since humans no longer had a need for procreation, the poverty line grew exponentially.


    The middle class completely dissipated, leaving behind two types of societies: the wealthy and those that survived. The ones that were left behind were stacked up on each other in slum-like buildings all over the world. Each space was sized perfectly for the decline in a normal household size. By 2015, the average of 2.54 dropped down to 1.5 by 2055 in the U.S. By the time we had reached the year 2060, most maternity hospital wings had been replaced and children based businesses had been shut down.


    I know later generations if in fact there is any left, will probably wonder what all of this has to do with my current situation. I¡¯ll get around to that if I make it through this next part in one piece. I¡¯ve ridden the glimmer many times before but never for this long. Not to mention, I don''t have a current body to go back to so hopefully this all works out. If it doesn¡¯t, well hell©¤ I guess all of humanity is fucked and this will just be one for the history books when an alien civilization finds it. I¡¯m still pissed off that after all these years, there¡¯s still no sign of intelligent life out there.


    Then again, they might have taken one hard look at our society and decided to nope the fuck out. In any case, about five feet in front of me is the answer to all of my questions. Hopefully the solution I¡¯m looking for. I want to walk through the second I see it, but I pause by the entrance of the rift. I¡¯ve never traveled with anyone else, so I¡¯m not sure if I actually am going to see the others or if I just walk through. From down the hall, I hear the ten-second warning from the Scyvies.


    If I had to describe what I¡¯m looking at, I¡¯d compare it to a long tunnel made entirely out of fractured light that bent every twenty feet or so in different directions. My footsteps make no sound and you can see directly through the floor. As a matter of fact, I¡¯m not entirely sure there is a floor. I¡¯m fairly certain my brain has decided that the way my head is facing is up and wherever my feet land is down. There is a distinct odor traveling along the length of the glimmer and I know my time is gone. Not a single person has appeared next to me, so I know they either have to meet me on the other side, or they are lost like everyone else. This was it, it was now, or never. I dive through the tear in time and tumble onto the hard floor.


    ¡°Winner, winner, sky friend! Come now to collect your prize at 3112 West Main Street. Fame, wealth, and fortune are just around the corner©¤¡± I wave my hand silencing the bot. If where I initially thought of is actually where I am, then I know I¡¯m back to my old loft off of Cadiz near Downtown. My head is killing me, but I manage to pull myself up to a sitting position. It¡¯s muggy in the small space from all the rain, so I know it has to be spring or fall. A quick glance out the window tells me what I need to know©¤ it¡¯s definitely Fall.


    I¡¯ve never done this before, so the next part hits me as a bit of a shock. Bile shoots up the back of my throat and spills all over the concrete floor and wall. I¡¯m silently cursing my ignorance because I must have eaten a fucking turkey dinner before I got here. I dry heave for several seconds when the bot starts back up again, ¡°Feeling ill? Try these home remedies from Natural Market supply house. Choose from these all natural flavors©¤¡± I growl and wave my hand again. ¡°Alexa, purchase one month of bot-free access,¡± I yell. ¡°Understood, would you like to enable single voice command purchase now?¡± I grind my jaw, ¡°yes, fine whatever just shut that thing up.¡± ¡°You have purchased a one-month premium bot-free access to©¤¡± ¡°yes, thank you, Alexa, that will be all.¡± ¡°Understood. Goodbye.¡± I sigh and look down at the mess I¡¯ve created on both myself and my loft.


    I stiffen as I remember what day this is. Normally, people like to travel back to happier times. Not me. I wore my depression like some badge of pride at this age. It was the first, and last time, that I would be twenty-three years old.


    I was born at the tail-end of the depression in the year 2025. They, of course, didn¡¯t call it that, but the recession was just a nicer way of saying, ¡®we¡¯re all fucked financially.¡¯ My mother, one of the few traditionalists, conceived me the natural way. She never wanted a partner, so she chose to be artificially inseminated with her best friend, Laura. It wasn¡¯t that uncommon by then for women to blend DNA with other women, it was a simple process using bone marrow. And thus, Jamie May Bonham was born on a windy day in October in a sad, one bedroom apartment with a midwife older than dirt. My mom had been pushing forty at that point, and the doctors had warned her that it could destroy her body if she didn¡¯t get treatments. My mother, with all of her southern charm, told them to promptly go to hell and take their damn technology with them.


    Lily May Bonham was nowhere near as delicate as her name would suggest. Mom took pride in being the only female engineer in her department. She was every bit a scientifically minded individual as she was religious and I always found that side of her peculiar. We would have discussions at length on how I believed science was the only answer, and she would talk about how they could go hand in hand. She never told me how to think, and that¡¯s what I loved about her. She never told me I was wrong unless of course, it was on a math problem. She was ruthless with those. The point I¡¯m making is that she never made me feel inferior to her, not for one second. This made me realize later that she was wise much beyond her years. Some people went entire lifetimes and never grasped that concept.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    My mother loved to exercise. It was understood that the first part of the morning was set aside for her. It was a quiet time in which I was encouraged to go online and read my books assigned for the semester. I never actually enjoyed reading, but I loved being read to. I had loads and loads of audiobooks at my disposal and I listened to them every morning as I downed my protein shakes. Some time ago, the food crises due to over cropping all of the farmland made actual food extremely expensive. Food vouchers covered the necessities, which were up-to-and-including: nutrient shakes, or bars, water, and salt. If you wanted grown fruit, veggies, or real meat©¤ it was the equivalent of three month¡¯s salary for one meal. It was a way for the government to claim that it was to help bring down obesity levels and for our own benefit.


    A few times before mama died, we actually got to try real fruit. I still salivate thinking about that nearly fifty years later. Ironically, her rigorous exercise routine was her undoing. We lived pretty well for the time, which meant that the neighborhood hadn¡¯t turned into the shit stain it is now. My mother ran for six miles once a day five days a week. I¡¯m not sure why she chose this arbitrary number, but she was very cross with herself if she didn¡¯t make her goal. The day had been much like it is now, rainy and the air clung to your skin. She had given me a kiss on the way out, telling me to be sure to run on the treadmill for a minimum of thirty minutes with a five-minute cooldown. I nodded, eager to get to the next chapter in my latest action adventure and murmured a quick, ¡®I love you too¡¯ as I plugged in. The mechanical lock was the last thing I heard before the worst day of my life happened.


    I didn¡¯t start to get worried until lunchtime rolled around. At first, I thought that maybe she had decided to stop by the market and surprise me with a candy bar, or piece of fruit. I made the first call to her phone at two pm, then four, and finally five-thirty. I was just about to phone Laura when the apartment¡¯s auxiliary system informed me that an officer was at our front door. It was the backup system since the police did not yet have a direct line to my headset. More than likely, my mother had placed a passcode on her phone which was an incredibly outdated tech for the time and the officers hadn¡¯t known what to make of it.


    I don¡¯t remember a lot from that day, but I do remember the knot in my stomach that twisted as I placed one foot in front of the other. I knew if they were there, it meant that they had to have checked her implant since she wasn¡¯t conscious enough to give them the direct line. As I approached, I remember the officer had called out his badge number and informed me that he was there to give me news on my mother. I swallowed thickly and opened the door. At the time, I had barely made out what they said, but I got the gist of it. She had stopped by a local market on the way home. A man that was fed up and desperate had picked that moment to set off a bomb that had taken out half the city. There were no survivors, including the bomber. I had numbly thanked the police officer, took what little was left of my mother from him and closed the door.


    The second worst day of my life was the current day that I chose to go back to. That sounds confusing as hell when I think about it. I haven¡¯t fully grasped how I¡¯ve managed to get here, but I have a few good ideas. That¡¯s the key, making sure that I know how so that I can share all of this with the others. I¡¯m nearly thirty years in the past, right before the global revolution took hold. I stare down at the clear liquid in the syringe laying on the floor in front of my feet. I thought that I had put this day behind me, but my subconscious must have chosen this moment because it was a huge turning point in my life. I rolled the needle around the ground with my foot, staring at the temptation for the second time.


    Had I have actually done it right back then, maybe I wouldn¡¯t have to deal with any of this. When I had pushed the fluid into my arm the first time, I had passed out before I emptied the entire thing. It left me in excruciating pain for hours before my neighbors called it in after getting home from work. I crush the liquid tube beneath my foot into the other mess I made on the floor, digging my heel in defiantly. I would not revisit that place again. I lost countless hours locked away in that place when I could have done so much more for people. Our people. There¡¯s a mechanical whirr as the iBo fires up and starts vacuuming the liquid mess.


    It was standard issue for the stacked units, in an attempt to keep out pests. There was one stationed between two units on each level. Each floor in our particular unit was fairly spacious in our building. Compared to most units that preferred to cram in anywhere from 18 to 22 units, our building only allowed 12 units per floor. The only reason that I¡¯ve gathered from this is that my mother left a substantial amount of money when she passed on and she owned this unit in full. Many places in the city started allowing you to pay off a unit if you were born in a certain year. I was lucky enough to actually be grandfathered in and the place was mine. I change shirts and then walk up to the sweeping bot, staring as it removes the contents and then pauses.


    The blood drains from my face as I realize what it¡¯s doing. Shit. I leap across the room, knowing that it is going to dock and report its findings. I can¡¯t allow that. I hastily rip at the panel on top, push down and then lift the covering. It¡¯s still charging toward the wall, I¡¯m shocked how much pull this small device has. If it manages to actually make it before I can figure out what to disconnect, the authorities will be here in seven minutes. I have twenty feet at most and it¡¯s moving one foot a second.


    Shit, shit, shit.


    I¡¯m following along like a dog sniffing at their owner¡¯s hand for food. I could jam the wheels that would buy me time. I find the nearest piece of cloth and rip it off the window. The floor is concrete so it isn¡¯t used to going over the carpet. Most places didn¡¯t have carpet anymore because it was found to be incredibly unsanitary. There¡¯s a groan and then a strong odor as the moving parts get caught around all the fibers. I nearly shout in excitement as it stops eight feet from its destination. It would buy me at least three minutes before the front desk was notified that the bot had malfunctioned. Then a few more before maintenance would be knocking at the door. I locate the belly of the beast and push down the release switch. A warning buzzer sounds and I curse loudly at the empty space. Why the fuck did they make these things so fucking difficult?


    Those three minutes would turn into seconds because it would notify the office that someone was tampering with the device. What¡¯s done is done. I still have time before they would come up the elevator. I finally get the container free and open the latch. All of the glass and metal is there. I cross over to the cabinets and pull out a bag, then pick out all the pieces of glass and metal and dump them into it. I have to leave most of the dirt, or it will look suspicious. I¡¯m about to put it back into the vacuum when I realize something. The liquid isn¡¯t there. Fucking idiot.


    I hear the ding at the end of the hallway and leap over to the front door. Most units didn¡¯t have a top lock, but ours did. I turned it and then bolted back over to the vacuum. I could hear the men talking as their keys jingled down the hallway. I have ten seconds, twelve at most before they are at my door. I¡¯m frantically searching where I pulled the dry vacuumed contents out, but there is no other container. I angrily flip the vacuum over and finally find it. I want to scream in anger, but I manage to jump to my feet and pull at the island drawer where I kept all of my small tools.


    I rip at the small drill and hope that it all charged. Bit, bit, I yell at myself. I locate the smallest sized one and run over just as I hear the guys walk up to my front door. ¡°Alexa, industrial music¡± I call frantically. Loud mechanical sounds with base start filling the area as I flip the switch on my drill. The noise is softer than the music playing and I sigh in relief. The bolt removes easily, but I have less than a handful of seconds before the men will be beating down my door, or call the authorities. I¡¯m less than happy when I finally tear it free. There are a bunch of clear liquids and then brownish liquids in the front. It¡¯s a series of small rows with several of them.


    I press my hands into my forehead as I hear the first knock at the front door. There has to be a code for each unit. It¡¯s evenly distributed into eight cylinders, the two nearest the front being darker©¤ which meant that they must be older. That left the middle units and the ones near the back. Here was my problem. I couldn¡¯t just remove all of the liquid, that would land me in for questioning by the local PD and if tampering was actually evident it would turn into a federal case. I had to put something into the container or they would know that I had removed it. But which one?


    The intercom sounded as a gruff middle-aged man cut over the industrial music. ¡°Please silence your music and answer the door within thirty seconds, or we will contact local authorities.¡± Alexa paused the music. ¡°The maintenance crew seems to be outside of your unit and is unable to get inside. Penal code 1174-2 paragraph 4©¤¡± ¡°I understand, thank you, Alexa. I am complying. Please turn on my shower.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Alexa flipped on my shower. I ran to the bathroom and pushed the telecom button. ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± I shout, ¡°sorry, I¡¯m in the shower. Give me a minute and I¡¯ll be right there.¡± The guy lets out a long sigh and grunts. ¡°You got thirty seconds.¡± I let go of the switch and douse my hair in water, careful to not get it on my shirt. I¡¯m still grasping the liquids as I run over and get a glass from the shelf. It was now or never, I bring the liquid eye level and decide on the back right. It¡¯s clear but has a slight bluish tinge. This has to be it, the other looks like water. A really loud knock comes from the front again.


    It sounds extremely impatient. ¡°Yeah, yeah¡± I mutter. I dump most of the liquid into my glass and stick it in the refrigerator. Then I fill the rest of the tube up with water from the sink. I can¡¯t keep the poison there all day, it will do a scan before I go to bed tonight. But it¡¯s safe for now. I race over to the vacuum, shove the tubes in the way they were facing before and quickly hand screw the bolt in.


    ¡°Resident 10127, you are hereby warned that I am going to call local authorities©¤¡±


    ¡°Sorry¡± I yell, opening the door. ¡°I slipped on the tub when I got out. It¡¯s going to leave a nasty bruise.¡±


    The man waiting at the door for me is every bit as gruff as I expect. His beady brown eyes are cross as he points a meaty finger my way. ¡°What the hell is going on here?¡± He hasn¡¯t listened to a word I said. Thankfully, I look about as flustered as I feel and I take a few breaths, steadying my voice. ¡°Like I said, I was rushing to get out of the tub and I slipped and fell.¡± He stares at me for a few seconds. ¡°Well?¡± I blink and look from him to the artificial unit next to him.


    At first glance, the A.I. units look human, but when you look closely at them, you can tell they aren¡¯t breathing. This unit is a simple older model with red hair and freckled skin. He is tall, close to six foot three and his skin is paler than mine. ¡°You going to let me do my job so I can get to the other few hundred units that need servicing today?¡± I blush a deep scarlet and step back from the entrance. The A.I. unit looks to me as his partner enters. ¡°You may enter,¡± I say quietly. The unit nods and steps into my loft. This always makes me uncomfortable, how the older units are programmed. We had to give verbal permission for them to enter. I really don¡¯t like talking with anyone, unless I have to. I hear the older man let out a curse. ¡°God damn son-of-a-bitch ate the curtains. Management ain¡¯t gonna be happy ¡®bout this.¡± He had the lingo that most blue collars did around here, with a heavy accent. He was definitely from the North East.


    ¡°Red, get your ass over here. Now.¡± The unit increased his pace as he rounded the corner to meet with the old man. I pulled the door shut and took a casual stride into my living space. The old man stands as I walk past and grabs my arm. ¡°You do this?¡± I feign shock and scrunch my brow in confusion. ¡°Why on earth would I do that? Like I said, I went to take a shower and the next thing I know, the two of you are beating down my door. I didn¡¯t see this until I went to answer the door.¡± The lines deepen on the man¡¯s face as he sizes me up. ¡°What happened?¡± I again blink at his question, my eyebrows going up.


    ¡°What do you mean? I just©¤¡± ¡°The bots don¡¯t just come out unless there is a mess.¡± He threatens. It was that ¡®don¡¯t fuck with me¡¯ tone that elders have an annoying way of doing perfectly. ¡°Look,¡± I say, ¡°I spilled some of my water earlier and broke a glass. I managed to get most of the glass up before it came out. Then I decided to hop in the shower. There isn¡¯t a crime against that, is there?¡± I challenge him with my own stern gaze. He shrivels a little but still keeps his chest puffed slightly. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll see.¡± He bends down and scans the area.


    I know the bot has done a good job, so I don¡¯t hesitate to walk from both of them. ¡°Let me know if you need anything else,¡± I offer dryly. The man mutters something sarcastic under his breath, but I am already at my computer, stuffing the bag into the small door to the right. I pull up my schedule, double tapping the screen. I need to get reacquainted with my life. I know this is my last semester at the university, but I had no idea what day it was, or if I had classes today. I relax, seeing that it¡¯s Friday afternoon and have nothing going on. Then I wince. Of course, I don¡¯t, this was the day I was planning on ending my life. I hear a few murmurs over my shoulders and slide my hand to the right to put the calendar away.


    I stand and walk over to the refrigerator, then grab a glass. I am one of the few people that still keeps the old water pitchers. I prefer the flavor of the charcoal filter versus the filtration system for our units. I knew it was probably in my head, but I swear I can taste some sort of medicinal residue. It always has a bitter, metallic flavor.


    ¡°In accordance with penal code 1174-2, paragraph 4 versus©¤¡± ¡°Don¡¯t lecture me on something my grandfather helped write, you hunk of junk. I said beat it.¡± I took a few sips, chancing a glance over at the two. The A.I. stood and turned walking down my short hallway. I tense as I hear the door slam. Apparently, even the older models are programmed with human reactions. The old man sighs heavily and meets my gaze.


    I can see he is working something out in his mind. He nods and motions with his other hand for me to come over. I set down my glass and try to control my breathing. What does he know? Great going, Bonham. Your first day back in the past and you manage to make enemies with a man that can turn your life to shit in minutes. I picture the hospital. When I say hospital, I¡¯m using that term very loosely. It was more like a privately funded prison. Most of the best hospitals were stationed further north or on the lunar colonies. For the rest of us simpletons, it was normally a house visit for federally regulated drug prescriptions, or it was diagnosed with your mobile care unit.


    There was a mobile clinic in each building. It was a small, 4x4 foot space that you wore provided booties and face mask in. It then took a swab of your saliva or blood sample and quickly diagnosed the issue. Within two hours, the prescription was sent directly to you and you were ordered to quarantine in your quarters for the remainder of the contagious period. Then your entire unit was decontaminated and you could go back to your life. But attempted self-harm cases were different. You had to go under a physician¡¯s care for a minimum of one year, effectively losing your spot on the lease and freezing your accounts until a doctor cleared you to go back into society. If you wanted to go about it the legal way and file for assisted suicide, that was a whole other mess. Much like the first one, you were required by the state to enroll yourself in a year-long program with a psychiatric care physician, then placed on medication and have been on the medication for a year before you were allowed to make that decision on your own.


    Which meant it was a two-year minimum to end your suffering. Total bullshit. That¡¯s why I took it into my own hands and did a shit ton of research on how to slowly collect the chemicals I would need to die peacefully. That was mostly here, in the U.S. but there were some countries that were way worse off.


    ¡°Look, kid, I don¡¯t got all day.¡± I jump at his words, but manage to walk around the corner with a straight look on my face. I don¡¯t bother saying anything as I stand in front of him. I¡¯m not really one for words, most the time people just sort of say what they think and I remark here and there to keep them sated.


    This guy, there was something about him. Even though he seems like a dick, his voice has softened a degree. His eyes even appear softer. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s all in my head when he speaks. ¡°Had a son about your age a few years ago.¡± I stay quiet, interested in what he¡¯s trying to say. I¡¯m curious because he¡¯s leading up to something, I can tell. He doesn¡¯t sound angry, he sounds sad. ¡°I know it ain¡¯t easy. All this.¡± He motions with his hand making a circle. ¡°Things aren¡¯t making much sense anymore with all the old people young again. See, me, I¡¯m a traditionalist. I ain¡¯t wanting any of that weird shit, ya know?¡± I nod pressing my lips into a forced half-smile. Where is he going with all this? Then I freeze as I see his portable analysis machine.


    He¡¯s found the small amounts I¡¯ve tried to hide with the water. I try not to panic, but I can sense it¡¯s creeping into my eyes. I can feel them growing wider. I jump as he places his hand on my shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, alright. As my grandfather would always say, I ain¡¯t no snitch.¡± He stops and points his finger across from me. ¡°Mark my words, if you make me regret this decision, I¡¯ll make it hell for you and anyone related to you. You get me?¡± I tear up, trying to not let it slip from my eyes but my body betrays me. I feel the wetness slide down my face and I turn away. ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about that. I¡¯m the only one left.¡± He grunts and takes a step back. ¡°No family, eh?¡± I shake my head.


    He scratches the back of his head uncomfortably. ¡°I...uh. I ain¡¯t much good at this, but I seen that school you attend. It¡¯s the third best school in the country and your, what, Top eight in your class?¡± ¡°Five¡± I whisper. ¡°What¡¯sat?¡± he asks. ¡°I¡¯m in the top five,¡± I repeat softly. He cracks a smile, clearing his screen. ¡°Seems like an awful waste to me. With scores like that, you can do just about anything you want.¡± He bends down and clears iBo system records. I don¡¯t know this guy and he¡¯s doing all of this for me. I¡¯m awkward, unsure of how to thank him. If he would have reported me, I would have repeated the past and lost everything. Now it makes sense.


    He had ordered the A.I. unit out in the hallway because it would have reported me immediately. It was legally bound to do so with the Human¡¯s Rights Act of 2045. Basically if a human was a danger to themselves or others they would be reported to local authorities and processed within twenty-four hours.


    I let out a long, shaky breath. ¡°I don¡¯t really have much to offer, but©¤¡± ¡°yeah, look kid. I ain¡¯t lookin¡¯ for nothin¡¯ alright? Just, do good in school and make something of yourself. Cut whatever nonsense this is out, alright? Some of us, you know, wish they got what you do.¡± I nod woodenly. The bot is back on the floor and heading back to the wall to dock. The guy is almost to the door when it dawns on me. ¡°How¡¯s your son?¡± I ask. He stops and casts a wary glance back at me. ¡°He made it a little further than you did today, kiddo.¡± I¡¯m so shocked, I¡¯m speechless. The door closes behind him before I¡¯m able to actually react to what he¡¯s said. I¡¯m tempted to go outside after him, but think better of it. I don¡¯t want to raise suspicion more than I probably have with the A.I. unit. Besides, there was work to be done and I had no idea what the hell I am going to do to prevent what was bound to happen.

 We Are The Last - Chapter II - Phantom

    I walk back to my computer and sit down. I first need to see how many hours I have left in this semester. I know it isn¡¯t much, considering I graduate in a month. I always thought people that graduated in the winter were weird, but really they were just ahead of the curve. I had busted my ass to get to this point, doing dual credits in high school and then taking five classes a semester. I look over at the empty space in the room. There isn¡¯t much here, just a handmade platform bed, my computer, my state issued VR system and the exercise equipment on days I need to work out. Most people would probably find this place entirely depressing. I have zero art on the walls, with a single shelf for my cups, bowls, and plates.


    My clothes can fit in a single drawer and consist mostly of two pairs of jeans, socks, and seven pair of underwear, two pairs of shoes and five shirts. Of the five shirts, two are short sleeved, two are tank tops, and one long-sleeved to go with the single pair of slacks I bought for graduation. To me, it felt a bit ridiculous to even own that many. It annoys me that even in these times you had to dress differently to impress a bunch of strangers. Unfortunately, they still require me to show up to graduation physically. Had I have graduated just a few years later, we would all just be online and I could sit at home and wear whatever the hell I want.


    I know changing the timeline will have several repercussions, but I have little choice. My future vessel is completely destroyed right now, on a direct path into the sun for all I know. I knew that I needed to get someone¡¯s attention, but who the hell would listen to a twenty-year-old loser with no money? How did I even begin to get anyone¡¯s attention, let alone the world leaders? The answer is simple, but complicated at the same time. I am going to have to learn how to communicate with myself directly before the first global war. I glance over to the VR. Technology is good right now, but it has no way of being able to do what I need it to. I need time to think, which to be honest was something I had in abundance right now. I cringe thinking about all the wasted time I had spent watching shows and playing video games. I was a devoted student, but not devoted to re-channeling my knowledge to something useful before the age of thirty. I crack up at this revelation. Most people would probably kill to be in my position. I¡¯m a fifty-year-old living in a twenty-year-old¡¯s body, doesn¡¯t get much better than this.


    In the future, most of us had started the treatments but to get the permanent one©¤ the one that kept you twenty-five forever, that was something only the well-off possessed. We lowly peons had to save up several months¡¯ salary to knock off a few years. Most people saved up as much as they could throughout the year and at the beginning of the next, shaved off as many years as they could afford. When I had left the future, I appeared to be the age of thirty which let me tell you, took several years to save up for.


    The holidays went back to spending time with your family online because everyone understood that no one wanted to die. And no one especially wanted to age.


    It is rare that children are born, and the few that are were normally raised by a colony. Our society was built around adults and it wasn¡¯t socially acceptable to bring children anywhere. Especially to restaurants or movies. You would be told to promptly leave and that you were bothering the other patrons. If you wanted to raise your own offspring, you were what was known as a Breeder. You stayed in the colony until your children were of adult age and then you were allowed to come back out. Living in the colonies, from what I was told isn¡¯t bad. They have their own sub communities with everything they need. The only time any of them venture out is usually when they want to get fresh food. Given that we all were under some sort of strict government salary, however, they didn¡¯t come out often. It used to be an incentive to be a breeder. I remember my mother once talking about a time when people were paid to have children. Now, with the establishment of the world population being a chief concern, you were penalized for having one.


    My mind shot back to Harris¡¯s words. That was wrong of him on so many levels. Ash had appeared several years older than us for a damn good reason. She had made the sacrifice for her people to become a Breeder. While most of us had appeared to be in our late twenties to mid-thirties, Ash looked to be in her late forties, which wasn¡¯t too far off from her actual age. Breeders are paid far less than everyone else and you have to have several permits on behalf of your government that your people are dying out. Of course, the majority didn¡¯t use the term Breeders. That was exceptionally derogatory. Especially from my time, when the death rate towered over births. We called them Traditionalists. Ash had to have gone through hell to be able to have just the one child, let alone two. It was a miracle that the state allowed her to keep both at the time she had given birth to them. I still smile thinking about the way she spoke of the twins.


    My smile fades as I look over to the outdated equipment and sparse surroundings. That was all before humanity nearly wiped itself out. I don¡¯t like thinking about this, because frankly, it isn¡¯t my favorite subject. I¡¯m hoping that by some miracle the others have found themselves back and are looking for ways to contact me. I can¡¯t count on this, however, and know that I must figure out how the fuck to get started. I need to find out a way to grab people¡¯s attention. As far as I was concerned, the fastest way to grab people¡¯s attention was usually one of two: you had a lot of money, or you made a lot of money. I needed to get to my accounts before the war hit and wiped the entire system effectively getting rid of bitcoins.


    Currency, as well as credit cards phased completely out when I had been a baby. I used to laugh at my mother¡¯s stories about how you had to go to a place called a grocery store and sit in line to buy food. She really got me rolling talking about several stories of gas crises and how people would get out of bed early to sit at the pumps until the attendant turned them on. People actually left their homes for things other than social events. It was mind-boggling to me. Of course, eventually, we stopped leaving our homes even for that. Some markets usually existed up north, but they were under strict supervision after what happened back when mom died. Eventually, there was no need to ever leave your home and if you did, it was understood you were either in trouble or causing trouble. I walk over to my VR unit and choose to get into a sitting position. I was too restless to lie down today.


    With all the cloud-based systems, technology had changed a fair bit over the years. The year I had gotten my VR, it was at its peak. I, unlike many others, managed to own a server farm. My mother had been smart enough to make several investments in her twenties which meant that I had access to just about limitless space for anything I could ever want. The best part was the privacy act, which allowed me to be able to store whatever the hell I wanted to as long as no one but myself had to access to it. Within certain limitations of course. I mean, I couldn¡¯t go and kill people and then upload the footage. Breaking was still as huge a threat now as it was fifty years ago. It was called something else back then. What had my mother said it was called again? I rubbed my chin. I snapped my fingers at the empty space around me. Hacking, that¡¯s it. It was more of a high-risk factor now. If you managed to get caught, it was instant death©¤ no questions asked.


    I had sold a small portion of it a few years ago to pay off my school tuition, but that had been entirely worth it. Many people had theorized that school would be free, and they were right, but to get a real education, you had to have money. That much hasn¡¯t changed. Because knowledge was free and all you needed was the drive. That meant that degrees were suddenly highly specialized. My mother once told me that a passing grade in most colleges could go as low as sixty-nine percent if a professor felt that you gathered as much as you needed for your degree. Honestly, it was no surprise that that generation fucked us all over. The millennial''s were a shit ton of self-entitled douche-bags that apparently handed out these things called ¡®participation ribbons¡¯ at all of their events.


    She also told me that anything you wrote online could effectively ruin your life. Unless you were famous or had money, then you would just formally apologize to everyone and be done with it. Mom definitely had some colorful things to say about her generation, but I¡¯m honestly glad that I¡¯m away from all of that nonsense. In this era, if you didn¡¯t like what someone had to say, you just blocked them. If you agreed with them, you followed them. Opinions were accepted as opinions and nothing else was made of it.


    Our government was currently run by a three-party system. The two-party system had long been phased out after the 2020 election disaster. I¡¯m pretty rusty on my U.S. president history, but my government history class had glossed over it, explaining that it was a dark time period in our politics. The years before that hadn¡¯t been much better, but that very president had taken it upon himself to outlaw the voting system and turn our country into a dictatorship. Effectively shitting on what our forefathers had taken the time out to build. After that, humans weren¡¯t entirely trusted to run a balanced system and candidates were chosen at random by a computer system. A billion times more logical than the radicalism of their time. I could sit and think about how much our politics had changed for the better all day, but what I needed to focus on was something far more important. The survival of the human race. Besides, if our way is so much better, I suppose we wouldn¡¯t have died off.


    I had the whole shebang and had invested in a fully immersive VR kit, complete with sound dampening headgear. These machines could do just about damn near anything except read your thoughts. And honestly, with as many well-placed ads as I saw in a day, I¡¯m fairly certain they were beginning to do that. I say that, but I¡¯m pretty sure it was just recording what my eyes chose to read more of, or if something caught my attention for longer than ten seconds. I looked over to my mother¡¯s account, linked on my home screen and it opened instantly. A familiar jingle sounded as it recognized my microchip. My mother¡¯s voice sounded in my earphones and my eyes closed listening to the soft lilt. I¡¯d forgotten how much I¡¯d missed hearing it. For the first time in over thirty years, I got to hear what my mother sounded like again.


    ¡°Morning, tough stuff. What can I do for you?¡± My eyes teared up and my voice came out a little shakier than I¡¯d like. ¡°Morning, mom. Just checking into the accounts, see where I¡¯m at.¡± There is a brief pause and then I listen as she drones on for a bit. ¡°Last week¡¯s spending habits went above usual, putting a fairly large dent in your monthly stipend. However, if you return back to your normal spending habits, you can recover this debt in sixty days.¡± I nod. ¡°I will need to pull all of my available funds by the end of this year. Is there a penalty for this?¡± Several seconds pass before she answers. ¡°Yes. Though you are legally entitled to all funds from your guardian, the United States government is entitled to treat this as a breach of contract and a forty percent tax will be removed from your funds immediately.¡± I thought as much. I thank her and close my account screen.


    It will be a large chunk of funds that go missing, but at this point, it is better than the alternative. In less than a year¡¯s time, there won¡¯t be a government. I won¡¯t be able to take my funds physically, but I can upload them to my cloud storage and then on my wristwatch I¡¯ll purchase in December. That way, I¡¯ll be able to carry it on me at all times. Since it will be uploaded from a private server, no one will know it exists until after I¡¯ve managed to pull all of it off. I log into the university¡¯s website and glance over my class schedule, then pull up the syllabus for this semester.


    Most people¡¯s degrees past bachelors didn¡¯t really mean much unless you were getting a S.T.E.M. degree or going to med school. All universities made four-year degrees free unless you were going for one of these other types of degrees in which longer school was needed. You were taxed based off of what type of practice you would be going into and it was calculated before you graduated how much you would be able to make. A medical degree usually took five years to seven years to pay off, whereas a degree in the science, technology, engineering, math or S.T.E.M took up to ten years to pay off. Especially since it was switched over to everything becoming privatized in that field. It meant that a company could choose how much it felt you were worth. Most scientists and engineers pulled in the realm of several million dollars their first year in the field. But there was a handful that everyone wanted to be. The ones in bio-engineering. That was where the money was now.


    If you could solve the problem of aging, or world hunger©¤ you would be set for life. You would be more powerful than any man could imagine. After the great science movement in the twenty-first century, people changed forever how things were taught. Most religions of the world were found to be detrimental to progression and thereby outlawed by most countries. Religion remained, but only the ones found to be peaceful and progressive. Most religion now moved toward coinciding with science. At least, it did after what happens in the coming year. It¡¯s so hard to know what is going to happen, but not being able to tell others. If I do, they would lock me away as a terrorist. I would be seen as someone that disturbs the peace, therefore a threat to any functioning society.


    I¡¯m thinking about this when my screen lights up. I recognize the avatar instantly and break into a huge smile. That mop of platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, and all ego is none other than my buddy Eric. At least, that was his name online. His avatar reminded me of the old school paladins in MMORPG¡¯s. Which back then, was pretty much like playing Dungeons and Dragons online, only not nearly as in-depth or sophisticated. There was a huge movement nearly sixty years ago that would have made the entire system lame as hell, but that shit got turned right around after the fifth through the seventh edition which made them like 3rd edition without all of the obvious loopholes that made players OP (or, overpowered) as fuck.


    We often had arguments over which editions were the best, but we both could agree on 3.5. And when I say 3.5, I mean the superior version called Pathfinder, which was the edition that fixed many of the oversights in the 3rd edition. Eric was always either lawful good, or good. Which bored me to tears, but the guy went absolutely ape-shit on being Mr. goody two shoes. Me on the other hand? I loved sitting in the grey. He was one of those sorts that always felt like good and bad were black and white.


    I was in favor of chaotic neutral, chaotic good, or neutral. Which meant that I¡¯m not bound by all of those dumb, boring rules that make my character always do good things or get penalized for it. We would often bust out the Dungeon and Dragons digital world builder and try and to out-DM each other. Since we both enjoyed being the Dungeon Master, we took turns each week telling our stories. Being a Dungeon Master was like being a god. But it took skills to do it. You couldn¡¯t just make something so hard that all of your characters died online, but you couldn¡¯t make battles in which your creatures just fell over in less than two rounds. It was one part story building, and almost always faking it until you made it.


    When I first started being the Dungeon Master, my creatures just about always fell prey to the players, because I hadn¡¯t taken the time to actually read through the guides and get to know each player¡¯s abilities first hand. Because it¡¯s so time intensive, D&D came up with cheat sheets for DM¡¯s that allowed us to know our player¡¯s base attacks, abilities, health points, and many other things. Then there was also weapons, and armor that added to that number. Once all that was worked out, you had to figure out what to give as loot and the appropriate time allotted for your characters to level. It is one of those things you have to plan months in advance for. Especially if you are new to it. Needless to say, the world builder took all of that into account and made hours of headaches into a streamlined experience for the DM and the players.


    It was our virtual playground, and far more customization than many games out there. It was a sandbox adventure on steroids and the only limit to it was our imagination. We didn¡¯t just play a silly game, this was our haven. Eric was bigger into character development than myself. I was the sort to place all the focus on the players experiencing the world. He liked to gear the story toward focusing on a few key individuals, and I loved for people to become lost and have their own unique experience with not too much focus on the main story arc. Also known as battle porn.


    I loved creating bigger and badder assholes to take down the group or create crazy in-depth puzzles that could set back the team by an entire day if they didn¡¯t get it. It drove Eric crazy, but he always went along for the ride. It was refreshing to play each other¡¯s minds and we had made just about any kind of world that you could imagine. The major difference between the two of us was that Eric preferred more classic settings, or Fantasy, whereas I liked to try something new each time. It was extremely rare that he created one with modern day setting. But one thing he did enjoy was adding in modern weaponry and gadgets.


    I often worry that he won¡¯t enjoy mine since I prefer changing it up all the time, but he says it is the experience in mine that makes it worthwhile and that he is just set in his ways. Since he knows those high fantasy world¡¯s best, he likes to live in them. Any DM will tell you that the most rewarding, and yet challenging aspect of the craft is your player''s interaction with your story-line. Always be prepared to adjust to situations that your players will throw your way. I once created an adventure that would take my adventurers on a fully thought out mini-game side quest, complete with a wizard¡¯s tower, a bodacious babe, and dueling amongst themselves. It had taken me the better part of two weeks to plot out worst-case scenarios just in case my players found some sort of loophole.


    I knew better than to railroad them because that was a DM no-no. Railroading was a trick that DM¡¯s used to force players to go toward their story-line, but it limited the player¡¯s experience. Sometimes it was necessary, but I always enjoyed going with the flow. Until that day. In a matter of two hours, my players had managed to warp all the way to the main bad guy without going through any of my puzzles, or my carefully planned battles, and beat him on a weird technicality that I had to honor on a perfectly rolled D-20. The player actually managed to change themselves into a super virus that the dragon snorted, and then died. I say ¡®roll the dice¡¯ but no one actually uses real dice anymore. The dice system usually determined what a player does base off of his stats and his abilities. The dice were rolled to determine how much damage they would inflict, or if they were able to get out of traps, or persuade the non-player characters (or the characters that I created or placed in an area) to not fight, get out of a bad situation, you name it©¤ there was a dice roll for it. Ultimately, the DM decided what was or wasn¡¯t going to go down in the story, but it was important to take your players into account. That is kind of glossing over the whole thing, but you get the idea.


    Since we never saw any of our classmates until we went up to school on lab days, neither of us actually knew what we looked like. On those days, we were sent to assigned sections for testing and no one chanced looking at the other classmates. Not when your degree was riding on these few hours to complete everything you read every six weeks or so. I had no more of an idea of who he was than he did of me. But with all the hours we spent shooting the shit online, I was pretty sure he knew more about me than anyone else. Possibly even my mother.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, mi amigo?¡± I answered smoothly. ¡°Not much, superstar. You get this weekend¡¯s assignment?¡± I panic. Uh oh. I still haven¡¯t had a chance to research everything I needed to get done today. I relax a degree as Eric erupts in laughter on the other end. ¡°Yeah, me either.¡± We both laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you manage to score higher than everyone in this entire unit. You must be one of those hyper intellectuals or something. Not fair to the rest of us, who you know, actually have to study for our grades.¡± He mutters the last part and I know he¡¯s only half joking when he says it. ¡°Hey,¡± I say, ¡°I study. Once a week or so.¡± He chuckles on the other end. ¡°Modest as ever I see. You going to share some of those secrets with your buddy anytime soon?¡± This was something we did. It was a way for us to ease the tension between us. We had been friendly rivals for as long as I could remember. I wasn¡¯t number one in the school system. That honor had been given to the first and only valedictorian for the last decade.


    R.A. Cromwell or Robert Cromwell had set the bar on how many extra points were given to students. There wasn¡¯t even a grade that had come close to his and he was a special case. He was the first one to earn several Nobel prizes in his adult life and be imprisoned for treason. There was my clue if there ever was one. If I was going to get anywhere with this, I would need to try and find a way to get into contact with a dead man. No pressure there.


    ¡°You wish, shithead.¡± I countered. He clucked his tongue on the other end and let out a low whistle. ¡°I am appalled at your choice in language today, fuckwad.¡± I haven¡¯t had this much fun since being aboard the Leviathan. Most people you meet in life take themselves entirely too seriously. Eric was the right amount of both worlds. ¡°At least I have a decent vocabulary, redneck.¡± Eric has muted his mic which means he¡¯s either cussing me out or laughing his head off. My vote¡¯s on the latter. His somewhat breathy response supports my theory, ¡°Oh yeah? Least I can actually score worth a shit on Phantom.¡± I bristle slightly but manage to laugh it off. ¡°You mean when I kick your ass tonight and knock you off as top dog?¡± He snorts on the other end. ¡°Yeah. Fat chance of that. Good luck toppling my score. Have you even logged on today at all?¡± The color drains from my face. He was already several thousand points ahead of me the last time I checked. ¡°You didn¡¯t,¡± I say. ¡°See for yourself, friend. You may always get higher scores than me, but you¡¯ll never beat Night Queen.¡± My jaw drops. ¡°You have got to be kidding me. I just got to her lair last night. How in the hell did you manage to beat her without me? Unless¡­¡± I trail off.


    Lucky for me, my current memories are integrating with my past. I¡¯m not honestly sure how this was all going to work, but hopefully, I retain all of my prior knowledge. ¡°You sneaky sonovabitch,¡± I state. ¡°You didn¡¯t sleep last night, did you?¡± I can hear him snickering on the other side. ¡°Hey, I have to get ahead where I can with you.¡± We both are quiet for a few moments as I look up his score. My eyes widen as I stare at all the zeros. ¡°H-o-l-y shit,¡± I blurt out.


    His score the following night was at eight hundred and sixty-nine thousand. Today, he topped the charts at a mind-numbing two million points. Two million. My eyes scanned across his name and then over to his avatar. There was something else different about it. ¡°Haven¡¯t noticed it yet, have you?¡± He asks, practically reading my mind. I zoom in on his avatar and freeze. ¡°No. Way.¡± I say staring at the colorful marker on the bottom right. There were a few things that Eric was able to do better than me, but this was one. Considering how much time he spent gaming, I¡¯m honestly wondering if he couldn¡¯t actually beat my ass academically but he¡¯s just chosen to channel his efforts elsewhere. This pretty much promoted him to god tier status on campus. Even I was having a hard time believing it. But there it was, the multicolored double moon badge awarded to gaming legends. The double moon was the insignia of the founders of the VR technology, Lunar Lander.


    Each color you earned represented your place on the board. They were based on the representation of the color spectrum the human eye could see. Otherwise known as the rainbow. Eric had every single one of them except for one: red. He earned indigo just last night. That meant if he managed to actually gain that last color he would be awarded something far more valuable than school. I started, realizing something. This was something I¡¯d never realized before. While I busted my ass in classes, he channeled his efforts to something that actually worked for him. I¡¯d entirely misjudged him this whole time. So I had great grades, what would that earn me? Notoriety? Fame? The only way I was going to make a dent was if I actually did get US valedictorian and I was down to the last six weeks to do it. He was going to earn all of that and then some.


    Suddenly I felt jealous. Something that was making me increasingly uncomfortable. I¡¯ve never experienced this. Mostly because I was always the kid that everyone else envied. I was the one that other kids tried to cheat off of or copy. It was a weird sense of pride I managed to keep up with all these years, until now. Eric needed one more color and then he was gained automatic entry into the United States Special Forces Gaming Division. No one, including myself, could even dream what that was like. It was relatively new and short-lived with the war to come.


    War is considered a thing of the past in this time, but competition is still in full force. With just about every aspect of society taken over by machines, roughly eighty percent, we have little to actually look forward to. But gaming? Gaming is worldwide, and the only competition that buys you instant fame.


    The most popular games were, of course, sports games. But the next in line were shooters, known as FPS or first-person shooter. They were the most spectated competition online. Traditional sports games were slowly fading as the shooter had evolved to encompass not only the pro-military crowd but puzzle enthusiasts. You could compete in the base game, but the people that obtained top-level scores played the main quest and all of the side quests. Phantom just came out a week ago and it was famous for how many hours it took to solve the puzzles. Night Queen was notoriously hard. An entire team of forty plus people hadn¡¯t even managed to get through the first half of it. Eric had managed to beat it by himself in just over twenty-four hours. I open the game and take a look at the time stamp. It was dated to just over an hour ago, which meant he had beat it in less than twenty-four hours. ¡°Daaamn. Mad respect, man.¡± I mutter, looking over it all. Maybe he is on to something. ¡°You know it.¡± He says on the other end.


    Suddenly, I need to do some thinking on my own. ¡°Hey man, I need to jet. But, seriously that is fucking amazing. Color me jealous.¡± I say. He pauses, before adding, ¡°Yeah dude, thanks. You want to try tonight with me?¡± I look over to my own score and then switch over to my academic scores. I feel a little better, but not much. ¡°Yeah. I need to get to it. Someone¡¯s inspired me to kick my own ass and actually try.¡± He laughs, ¡°Hey, don¡¯t make the rest of us look too bad, alright?¡± The right side of my face twitches up, ¡°Cram it out your ass.¡± I say before logging out.


    I don¡¯t have to worry too much about him taking what I say to heart. It was our code for saying ¡®take care¡¯ in the only way we knew how. I¡¯m not much of a touchy-feely person, when things get too heavy or I¡¯ve got emotions I need to work out, I find ways to put myself to work so that I can distract myself. After some hard labor, or working out I¡¯m usually good. There are a few times that I can¡¯t get past it with physical activity. Those are days that I pour myself into as much studying as possible or listen to books.


    I rarely watch shows and when I do, I get angry. Most of the people on the show are complete morons that make decisions any rational human being would not. I once watched less than one episode of a show, skipped to the end of the season and knew exactly what had transpired. It usually went something like this: Sexy main star is a hard worker, struggles in relationships, and has some dark, broody past that they are ashamed of. They push everyone away until they need help and except it only after some dire situation arises. Enter something that comes in and murders off or seriously maims sidekick, and end season one. It was getting so ridiculously predictable it did nothing but agitate me. Shows that aren¡¯t like real life annoy the shit out of me. I mean, I get it©¤ if someone just shot the other person in the head instead of chat with them for five minutes about their clever plan that would make for a really boring show.


    Drama makes viewers, I suppose and I¡¯m just an asshole that hates things that aren¡¯t real. Don¡¯t even get me started on fantasy shows. Since I can¡¯t imagine anything that isn¡¯t real, fiction has always made me entirely uncomfortable. It¡¯s not to say that I don¡¯t believe in the possibility. Shit, a few hours ago I was on a one-way trip to death and with me the entire population of Earth. And I somehow managed to cheat it by mind traveling to my past self? Yeah, that¡¯s one for the history books.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    I had something no one even knew existed and I had no fucking clue how to explain how it worked. I thought back to the ship, then I thought on the position everyone was in before I came back. I have a strong feeling that line of thought is a dead end. It has nothing to do with the crew, and yet we all share something in common that could get us to travel back in town. Then a horrible thought crosses my mind and I don¡¯t want to think about it. What if, I am the only one that made it back? That means that everyone, including Ash, is floating toward the sun at this very moment in the future. Then I have another terrifying thought, what if I am actually dead and these are memories that my mind has managed to conjure before I myself, bite the big one. This one freaks me out the most because if that were true my mind is currently just running rampant and I would have no way of knowing it.


    Suddenly my psychology and sociology classes didn¡¯t sound like nonsense. Perhaps my brain was creating my existence in an attempt to protect me from knowing that I was dead. I begin to feel very tired. If that is true, that would mean that I would never know if anything is actually real. God damn it, science, you fuck everything up with your wonky logic. I chuckle, despite my growing apprehension and find myself relaxing. I might as well enjoy my final moments if that¡¯s all that it is. Starting with something I¡¯ve been dying to try since I got here. If I remember correctly, I can still order food and have it delivered within the hour. It would cost me a bit, but it¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve had it, I can¡¯t help myself. I search online until I find it and stare at all the different possibilities of flavors. Without meaning to, my mouth waters.


    Real chocolate. Not that shit made from dates, or artificially flavored protein powder, but real. Purchasing something of this caliber was usually reserved for something like a birthday or graduation day. I rationalized that surviving the apocalypse more than justified a candy bar©¤ or two. The combinations are insane, but my favorite is always the sweet and salty combinations. I¡¯m torn between two choices, but finally just choose both. This will probably raise my current debt up to four months instead of two, but it¡¯s not like I don¡¯t have the money, it¡¯s just not readily available. So I was doing the typical college thing of spending what I don¡¯t have, who cares? At least I¡¯ll have chocolate. Maturity bonus +1.


    I stare longingly at the soda but decide against it. That would set me back for half a year, and I just wasn¡¯t willing to do that. Even if I planned on taking all of my funds out by the end of this year. I could splurge a little, but I needed to be mostly smart about this. True to their word, Alexa notifies me that my package has arrived and I charge over to the front door.


    I¡¯m practically skipping as I scoop it up and walk over to the living area. I pull out my portable table and prop up the side so that I can wheel it over my legs. I can hardly wait to tear open the wrapper but try my best to keep it cool. This needed to be done right. I padded over to the mini fridge and propped it open. Everything was stacked neatly. On the right, several packages of mushroom noodles, flavorless protein bricks in the middle and the filtered water pitcher. My glass was still inside, but I knew that I had a little time before I needed to toss it outside. I stare nervously at it. Maybe I should go ahead and do it now before nightfall.


    This was a relatively safe area, but crime still happened and it happened after dark. If you were out past sundown, you were pretty much free game. I grasp it and pause at what I see behind it. It is a small bottle of wine, one that I had been saving for graduation day. It wasn¡¯t top of the line but I knew that it had been bourbon barrel aged. It was something I was sent as a gift from Eric to commemorate our special day. It also is probably an unspoken promise to not drink it without him. Somehow, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to drink something so special. I¡¯d wait for him. I was becoming a huge softy in this time. It probably had something to do with my mind adjusting to everything. Whether you were actually supposed to keep that in the fridge or not, I had no idea. I stare down at the black label. It looked like a darker wine, and over the years I remember that red wines were something that you kept at room temperature. I pull it out and set it on the counter and then frown, noticing something else lodged in the back of the fridge. Is that¡­ I pull it out and my eyes grow wide. It is. I stare at it for several seconds, not believing my luck. It¡¯s a real sugar soda.


    I glance over the red can and flip it to the back, it reads made in Mexico. It may sound completely weird, but after the day I¡¯ve had I start tearing up. I¡¯m not entirely sure if it¡¯s my current consciousness meeting up with my future but the collision floods my mind with emotion. I¡¯m bawling like an idiot clutching a soda can on the floor of my one-room loft. I give the can a longing squeeze and then place it back in the cool air, reassuring it that I¡¯ll be right back. And I mean it.


    I snatch the water up and walk toward the front door, then pause. If someone sees me dumping mystery liquid outside, I¡¯ll be reported. I need to check and see if there is some watertight container I can use to take outside, or possibly©¤ I glance around and then walk over to my shelf. Yes! There it is, I still had the bottle. I pull it from the shelf and unscrew the top. The material is incredibly soft and I run my fingers along the outside. The material was velvety, yet durable with holes for straps on each side. The container itself was shaped to be strapped against your waist and leg while you were running.


    There were a few attachments that you could use to get the straw up to your mouth. My mother loved staying in shape and was an avid climber in her days. It was another one of the items I have kept of hers over the years. I¡¯m grateful that not only does it allow tubes, much like a saline pack, but it also had a canteen adapter which could be unscrewed. That meant I wouldn¡¯t have to stand outside for several minutes looking like a jackass as I essentially peed out an ounce of fluid. Then I cocked my head to the side. You know, that might not be a bad idea. It wouldn¡¯t look sanitary, and I would get a lot of weird looks, but it would do the job. I¡¯m laughing at my own private joke as I jog down the first three flights of stairs.


    Everyone knows that you don¡¯t want to wait on the elevator from our floor. You would be waiting for at least ten minutes. Since there wasn¡¯t really a need for fast moving elevators with the need for travel minimized, you had to compete with all of the service men and bots that delivered packages to your place. Most buildings had adapted to this in some way with a tube system that funneled from the top, but our building was quite old. And packages literally arrives every few minutes as people ordered everything from home. The building took priority with maintenance users, so naturally, if you needed to get outside, you either took the stairs or you did the smart thing and walked down to the maintenance man¡¯s main office and pressed the button like I¡¯m doing now.


    The elevator is here in less than a minute and I hop on and call out to take me to street level. It opens directly onto Cadiz and I turn left toward the small patch of grass and trees. The streets are eerily quiet and my steps come out far too loud but I press forward. The building was maybe fifty feet across the front before I would have to cross a short alley and then reach my destination. My palms are sweating, but I ignore it, placing one foot in front of the other. You got this, I tell myself, passing the first of the six small trees to the right. The sidewalk feels like its sand as I pass the second tree.


    Jesus, how the fuck did I get anywhere like this? Was I having a god damned panic attack? I take in several breaths and focus on gripping the water bottle. Somehow, this gets me past tree three and four. My breath comes out more ragged as I get closer to the edge of the building. I grip the container, my knuckles going white. Breathe in, step, grip the bottle, I order myself. I sigh in relief, this seems to be working. I repeat the mantra in my head and do this odd ritual as I finally pass tree six. Ten feet more and then I would be able to cross the small opening near the alley. I halt at the entrance and steady my breathing as my heart screams in my chest. It¡¯s pumping so hard that I can literally hear it drumming in my ears. Keep it together, I spat inwardly.


    Despite no one being on the road, I still shoot a glance down the alley and then back to the street. I¡¯m leaning against the building and every fabric of my being is screaming at me to turn around and walk back to safety. My flight system was in full force and it was damn hard to fight.


    I let out a huge sigh as the trees are suddenly just several feet away. There¡¯s a loud buzzing noise and I nearly dive under the canopy, hiding from what seems like it may be a potential threat. I¡¯ve somehow made it, but now there could potentially be something worse than my own anxiety. I peer through the multicolored leaves at the increasing buzzing sound and freeze as the object comes into view. Drone. And not just a normal one, it belongs to the local police force. I curse under my breath as it circles our building.


    I haven¡¯t been outside more than possibly a handful of minutes and they were already alerted. I know it won¡¯t be long before they actually spot me. I pull at the latch and get the strap from around my leg as I watch the small camera rotate to face the front of the building. Now¡¯s my chance. I dump the entire contents next to the nearest tree and then hastily strap it back to where it was. My eye catches movement and I just manage to pull the second strap in place when the camera spins around toward me. I walk from under the trees and back toward the sidewalk, careful to keep my pace casual as I cross the small alleyway. It pauses and then the camera twists, zooming on my face. It is no doubt reading my chip to see if I am a resident in the building or homeless.


    Homeless individuals are not allowed to wander outside of registered citizen¡¯s domiciles. This means that if you are found near one, and not living there, you would be fined and then given cleanup duty. The good news is, if you are actually homeless that means that you are able to have food for your time, and a proper day¡¯s salary. There aren¡¯t many homeless now since most of the lower income people stick together and live in a halfway house. This way, they have the security they need to survive. There are a few actual homeless people that manage to escape microchipping, but those people are stuck to well outside of the city. I¡¯ve honestly never seen a real-live homeless person. My mom told me that there was a lot of them when she was a girl. The bot jingles and then raises back toward the top of the building. It must have cleared me for a resident. This still makes me uneasy. Even though I didn¡¯t technically do anything wrong, it is going to put notes on my record. That is added attention that I don¡¯t need.


    Hopefully, I am just written off as some idiot kid and they go on about their business. I am practically running when I reach the elevator. The door jingles and silently slides open. I step in and the door slides shut behind me. I punch the button and lean against the wall, knowing that this will probably take some time. ¡°Welcome, tenant 10127, please do not lean on company property and stand in the center of the circle.¡± My eyebrows go up at the disembodied female voice, but I quickly comply and stand in the center.


    ¡°Thank you. Please place your arms on the side and then raise them slightly to continue.¡± I again do as I¡¯m told. I¡¯m met with a blast of cool air mixed with a cloud of something pleasant. I¡¯m about to inhale the curious scent more when the voice comes back on. ¡°Please wait to inhale for ten seconds. Never directly inhale the antibacterial liquid, as doing so may be detrimental to your health. Please be sure to remove your clothing upon your immediate arrival and discard them in our bio-hazardous waste bin located on your left as you walk through the front door. Have a wonderful day, goodbye.¡± I count out the ten seconds, immediately alarmed that I had already inhaled a bit. Thanks for letting me know sooner, jackasses.


    The elevator finally gets to the first floor and slides open. A glance at the display tells me that I have been gone a total of twenty-five minutes. Which meant, I have been waiting on the elevator for at least fifteen minutes of that. I¡¯m glad I won¡¯t need to come out again for another month, this seemed like a total ordeal. Even though over twenty minutes have passed, I realize that my heart rate has just not returned to normal. This is extremely problematic if I need to change the world. I make a mental note to look into anxiety disorders and how to treat them. But first, I was going to sit down, do some studying and heartily enjoy two full candy bars, and a soda.


    I carefully pull the delicate chocolate out of the wrappers and place them next to each other. One is split into two, 2-inch bars and contains peanut butter, pretzel, caramel drizzled in one layer of peanut butter and one layer of chocolate. The other is nearly four inches and it has hazelnut spread, caramel, nougat, peanuts and covered in chocolate. The soda is labeled as cola, which means it is a brown caramel flavored liquid with fizzy little bubbles. The twelve ounce can of soda was deemed a health hazard by the year 2020 and heavily taxed. Once it was placed on a warning list, companies were required to list that it was linked to both cancer and heart disease, effectively placing it on the same table as cigarettes. This guy probably ran a cool hundred bucks online.


    My mom once said that when she was a kid they were served at birthday parties to all the kids along with cake. I found that completely ridiculous given that a single can of soda contained thirty-nine grams of sugar and a whole slice of cake typically had fifteen. Given the choice between the two, I¡¯d take the cake. Liquid calories have always been strange to me. If I¡¯m going to have something awful for my body, I want it to feel as if I¡¯ve eaten it. Liquid calories were a tricky sort of thing, you could have several cans of soda and still be hungry, but a cupcake or a candy bar especially, filled you up because you¡¯ve typically had some sort of protein with it.


    I look at my haul and giggle to myself. In total, I was about to consume 77 grams of sugar totaling out to 590 calories. Which is nearly half of my daily caloric intake, and 52 grams of sugar more than I should have. That would mean that at my height, age, and weight, I would need to perform approximately forty minutes of low impact cardio or thirty minutes of high impact cardio. I stare at the three glistening objects of my desire and shrug, totally worth it.


    The sun has just about set for the day, but I walk over to the large industrial windows staring at the iconic skyline. It¡¯s one of the most famous, next to Seattle¡¯s, and I¡¯ll never forget all of its soft curves that blended seamlessly with the pointed ones. Reunion tower and all of the tops of the skyline pulsates a soft orange and yellow to commemorate the coming holidays. I stare for quite some time. So much in fact, that the sky is pitch black and the roads look as though they are swallowing the buildings. It is a strange thing, eerie in fact to stare across a vast sea of concrete that is lit by nothing. Streetlights had been removed some time ago when I was just a baby. Mom explained that it was due to light pollution and wasting energy. Especially since travel was kept to a minimum and during the day.


    The lighted buildings were kept on until a certain hour, much like what people did with tiny lights they placed on their homes for Christmas. I did not know what that strange tradition was about, but according to mother it was something people did as part of the festivities and people would drive around in their cars, or even go to parks to see them. This confused the utter hell out of me. What sane individual would cram into a death trap and stare at the same three or four colors that were patterned differently according to the property lines? Complete bullshit and an extremely unnecessary rise in the cost of electricity, not to mention the amount of energy it must have taken to do this every year.


    It must have been a nightmare for energy companies. Then I looked outside again at my own glowing orb of fascination and promptly laughed out loud. Ok, maybe there was something to it. But, for hours and to do it more than once? No thank you. I brought both arms over my chest and motioned them together in a prayer-like motion. The curtains drew shut and I padded softly to my meal. The soda now had little beads of condensation but was still cool to the touch.


    I stared at the tab on the top. ¡°Alexa, how do I open a can of soda?¡± ¡°Searching,¡± came her smooth reply. ¡°I found this. Place your index finger underneath the ring and your thumb on the tab in the center. The ring is the part that is above the opening section. When you lift the ring with your index finger, it will simultaneously apply pressure to the opening section leaving an opening that you will be able to drink through. There is a video, would you like to watch it?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I respond and walk over to the VR headset. I pull it on and look at the video. I watch as the person places their thumb on the tab in the middle and their pointer finger on the ring. Reaching over, I grab the can and mimic the video. Then they get the small part of their finger and push down with their thumb and pull up with their index finger. I do this and nearly leap from the chair at the loud crack and then whoosh that¡¯s let out.


    I replay the video and realize there is no sound. I¡¯m completely annoyed by this, but let it slide. The video was put online in 2016. I let out a low whistle, jesus this was ancient. I can¡¯t believe someone hadn¡¯t put up a newer version. Now confident that my can isn¡¯t going to explode in my face, I turn the opening toward my mouth. I hesitate for a few seconds, listening to the small fizzles in the can. Up until this moment, I couldn¡¯t wait to try my first real soda ever. Now, I¡¯m not so sure. I mean, these things were later outlawed for a reason, right? The smell that wafts up is delicious and despite it all, I tip the can into my mouth.


    My eyes widen at the liquid sugar as it enters my mouth. I¡¯m not even sure what to make of this. Until I take another sip, and then another. The sheer amount of caffeine and sugar in this one can probably keep me awake for three days. I¡¯m guzzling it down and I¡¯m only down to a quarter of a can before I realize that I still have candy bars. I should probably save this until after I eat them, especially the salty one. I take one of the two-inch squares and bite into heaven. They¡¯ve gotten the golden ratio perfect from every bite and in seconds, the second two-inch bar of chocolate is gone.


    I¡¯m greedily eyeing the nougat bar when a notification pops up on my headset. I whine, but open it anyway in case it¡¯s important. It¡¯s a reminder that I need to study for next week¡¯s midterm on Thursday. I frown, looking at the subject. It¡¯s global history and this week¡¯s study guide was covering ancient practices on forgotten religions and how it shaped history or some other such nonsense. I sighed and stared longingly the glass that used to contain my way out. Maybe I should have just gone with my first instinct. I sigh and shake my head, ¡°None of that, Bonham. You¡¯ve got a world to save.¡± I lift up the second chocolate bar and moan softly. My god, it¡¯s no wonder obesity was an epidemic nearly forty years ago.


    ¡°Welcome player 10127¡± the voice announced. It was one of those cheesy announcer voices that got you pumped, and made you roll your eyes at the same time. It was that over-the-top action flick announcer voice. The kind they used way back in the day when fighting was still a legal sport. God, I remember all the greats and I¡¯d sat through just about every single one of them. Boxing was brutal, kickboxing even more so. Then there was MMA, UFC, and thousands of martial arts and action flicks. Those were my favorite.


    If there ever was a way for me to lose days of my life to something that would never benefit me in any way, it was action flicks. We¡¯re talking legendary, bonafide badasses. Bruce Lee, Keanu Reeves, Charles Bronson, Jet Li, Clint Eastwood, Jackie Chan, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Liam Neeson, Vin Diesel, Harrison Ford, Yun-Fat Chow, Jean-Claude Van Damme, Donnie Yen, Sean Connery, Jason Statham, Tony freaking Jaa©¤ I could go on all day. Fight scenes were something to be revered.


    There was some otherworldly element to a person that could take something as quick and dirty as shoving your fists in another dudes face and turn it into fantasy land. Matrix? Classic and revolutionary. I only list the one movie though, the rest were just garbage. Then there was Ong Bak©¤ each movie as amazing as the last and Tony Jaa was a martial arts genius. There was something to a man that did everything himself with no stuntman. That was virtually unheard of during that era of film. But what was more amazing was the trendsetter for the next action flicks to copy.


    I¡¯m talking about John Wick. Not only, had Keanu Reeves done all of his own stunts, he learned how to properly fire a weapon and do action scenes in one take while somehow still possessing all the grace of a panther. His level of cool went from that memorable one-liner cool to walking away from an explosion without looking cool. He wasn¡¯t just a cool guy, he was a fucking to scale model of Mt. Everest©¤ can I get a hell yeah? To quote Samuel Jackson, he was a badass motherfucker.


    I glance down at the time and groan. Man, I should get some sleep but seeing Eric¡¯s score has lit a fire under my ass. I couldn¡¯t believe that he was that far ahead of me after just one day. Then I realize something. Wasn¡¯t he supposed to jump on with me later today? I shake my head at the clock, it was after one in the morning. Guess he forgot, or finally ended up hooking up with that one chick he was obsessing over. Eric, like most healthy college boys, had two interests: games and boobs. He liked them both equally, and talked about it so often that I would hit the mute button when he got particularly¡­uncomfortable.


    It¡¯s not like I don¡¯t have thoughts from time to time of my own but they are extremely rare. I just don¡¯t understand the motivation for getting involved in all of that nonsense. Some of the brightest people I met in college compromised their GPA because of other people. It was just strange to me. Why bother with something temporary if your career is everything? There were far more valuable things in my mind than hookups and relationships. Namely, how to work toward some sort of scholarship or dethrone Cromwell.


    Or©¤ I look over the scoreboard one last time and it reads as follows:


    ERA ¨C 2,000,000 points


    JMB ¨C 475,000 points


    ARJ ©¤ 263,000 points


    It was so new that only the top three scores were displayed on the boards. The developers wanted to create an old-school feeling with the top scores listed like an old arcade game. They even had the multicolored letters that flashed and rotated on a pixelated screen. As a matter of fact, the whole opening title was nothing like the gameplay. Curiously enough, the graphics looked like something out of the late eighties or early nineties and were completely pixelated. But that¡¯s where the similarities end. It is something that has been debated over on all of the online forums. Some people think it¡¯s an homage to when video games became popularized and arcades were still a thing. Others suggested that it is an easter egg and a clue on how to beat the game. Eric must have been using his time to study to barely get by school and then really excel at the game. What does he know that I don¡¯t? I pull up a browser and type in Phantom. In seconds there are several stories that have popped up yesterday and today. I click on the first link and scroll through the highlights.


    Shocking announcements today as Phantom, a genre-bending first-person shooter and puzzle game, announced its planned prizes for the end of the holiday season. Lunar Lander, Phantom¡¯s creator best known for their adventure puzzle games and first-person shooters, announced that they will be selecting the top three competitors from the game to compete against one another at their private location at the end of the year. Just for being in one of the top three meant that you were awarded©¤


    My eyes nearly pop out of their skull as I read through. Holy shit.


    I re-read them again and then pull up another tab bringing up Lunar Lander¡¯s Wikipedia. There it is, I can¡¯t believe it. I knew there was something bothering me about why I was so enthralled by the game. Granted, I also love shooters and especially puzzle games but this©¤ this explained so much. Was my past self somehow aware that I needed to not only beat him, but get into contact with him as well? This opens up so many questions, my mind is nearly dizzy thinking on them. The founder of Lunar Lander is none other than Robert Cromwell. The prize is to be employed by Cromwell¡¯s company and compete in government-funded competitions around the world. For just competing, you got to sit and talk with the owner and CEO of Cromwell Industries and win a five year supply of food, clothing, and have your rent paid in full. This was insanity. Nothing like this has come along in the history of well¡­ever. And here it was, play a few games and have it handed to you on a silver platter. I can¡¯t believe it. Fuck school.


    If I devote any more than I have to it only buys me a slim chance of some crazy rich dude noticing that I scored higher than Cromwell. To which, I may get a personalized video, maybe a scholarship, but nothing like what this is offering. But this? This is how I¡¯m going to prove that not only is Cromwell alive, but that he is the one behind all of this. I know that I cannot be wrong because if I am that¡¯s it. I would need to definitely jump on the forums and read over several of the popular theories that suggest he is alive. Yes, but the real question is why he is. What did he have to gain by collecting the top three players of a notoriously difficult video game? I have a lot of work ahead of me, but this proves that even if he isn¡¯t alive, his company is and that makes it worth pursuing. Politics were kept to an online vote in this era which meant the key to my success and notoriety is going to be climbing to the top and getting in the spotlight. Now I know why Eric has spent the entire night playing and ultimately beating the first major boss battle. It would also explain why he has decided not to play online with me. This article I¡¯m reading is time-stamped at four hours ago, which would have been the time Eric had called me to hop on with him.


    This was how I contacted him. This was how I was going to start changing the world. A concept that would have been laughable some twenty years ago, now it¡¯s a way of life. I subscribe to the popular game feed and then switch back to the whimsical scoreboard. I was still in second place by quite a bit. If I just kept at this pace, I could possibly reach up to half of his points and be ok. The problem is, not only am I behind on how many hours he devoted to this but by badges as well. A thought occurs to me and I re-open the tab that had the story on it. I scroll past the other things and then notice at the end of the contest rules, there¡¯s an asterisk. I¡¯m not sure, but I roll my mouse over the tiny symbol and smile when I see it is a hyperlink. I click on it and smile as it re-directs me to Lunar Lander¡¯s official Phantom page. It¡¯s the second part of the rules that aren¡¯t listed on the gaming page.


    Participating players will not only be judged on scores, but also on their in-game conduct and trophies earned. This means that the top three players listed, may not be the contest winners and are up to the owner¡¯s discretion on who the official winners will be. This will be made public the day before the contest wins to anyone that did not bother to follow the link provided to see all of the contest rules. Congratulations, player 10127, you have taken the first step to getting ahead of the curve. Please enter the contest with this link provided. The game page this was linked with was set with a dummy form that will not officially enter any applicants that did not take the time out to read all of the official rules. Best of luck to you.


    I¡¯m nearly shouting in my chair with excitement as I click on the link, feeling proud of myself for doing what probably no one else had bothered to do©¤ pay attention. I scan the entire page before clicking on the link, making sure that there were no other tricks or possibly any rules I¡¯d missed. Satisfied that there aren¡¯t, I click the link and a dark grey screen pops up. It looks like most forms, asking for real name, address, phone, etc. but there is one difference after skimming over the first part with all of the personal information. There¡¯s a disclaimer and not just any disclaimer, several pages worth. Since I know that the possibility is high that there is something tucked away here as well, I click on the link that will bring up the readable file. The first four pages are the typical participation jargon that saves the company from getting sued in case you weren¡¯t happy about the rules of the contest and if you lost. But it¡¯s when I get to the last half of the pages that things start to get¡­ interesting.


    Not only have half of the participants probably missed the asterisk section, I was willing to bet that just about everyone that got to the asterisk section also hadn¡¯t read the fine print and had hit ¡®agree.¡¯ This guy is good. He is counting on the fact that no one will pay attention and he is right. That got me wondering how many people actually are in the running. Not only are the people that are participating in going to get a job at Cromwell Industries, they are going to hold a share in it. That is expected of most industries once you became management or higher up in the food chain, but to be a shareholder based off of being a guy that comes from the streets and plays video games well? The next section also states that there are more prizes than listed publicly and that they will be announced to the winner of the big competition. There has to be much more to this than any of us ever could imagine. I skim a few more lines and then freeze on the following one,


    <blockquote>


    ¡®¡­by checking agree in this section, you are agreeing to also waive your family or friends right to sue Cromwell Industries should your life end while competing in the Phantom world.¡¯ My jaw drops as I read that section a second time.


    </blockquote>


    This isn¡¯t just a game competition, it goes well beyond that. What are these assholes hiding from the rest of the world? This reeks of politics masked as a friendly competition. The last half goes on to say that all participants must live in the United States and that only the winner will go on to compete globally for ¡®prizes beyond your wildest imagination.¡¯ What that meant, was for them to determine what they would do with you once you proved worthy to their cause. I¡¯m not sure how all of this ties together, or how I knew to come back to this exact point in time, but I know that ¡®prizes beyond your wildest imagination¡¯ meant something big. The fact that the stakes are our lives says enough. I click ¡®agree¡¯ and then scroll back up to the top of the form. I¡¯m shocked to find that it has filled out all of my personal information except for one: username.


    The corner of my mouth draws up into a sly smile as I know instantly what it is going to be. I hit enter and the screen goes completely black. Words start surfacing as I continue to watch the screen©¤


    <blockquote>


    ¡®Cromwell Industries extends you a warm invitation to attend the official contest ball online on Saturday, November 26th, 2067 at precisely 7:00 p.m. CST. Participants are expected to wear formal attire for the event and to the interview after the event. Failure to do so will result in immediate termination of your application. Thank you for your application. Welcome to Phantom Official, Hull.¡¯


    </blockquote>

 We Are The Last - Chapter III - Cassiopeia

    My heart races as I watch the words slowly dissipate and then the screen disappears. I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯m feeling, but I know this was incredibly stupid of me. What if this isn¡¯t what I was sent back to do? I pull up statistics for the degree plan that I¡¯m currently in and start to waver. In six weeks, I could have my degree and start the slow climb politically. Yes, there was a huge chance that I couldn¡¯t figure out what was the cause of the bombings, but it was safer. Then I look up viewership rates and cross reference them with how often their faces are seen to how politically revered they were, no matter their past. Money, power, success, and most importantly being able to talk with the people that know something about immortality.


    It isn¡¯t about how much you know, it¡¯s about how much the population likes you. Being likeable is the key factor to becoming the small percentage of people that owned everything. I needed to be able to rub elbows with these people, I need to be seen as one of them. It has been this way since the turn of the new century. Lunar Lander was just one of the companies that was part of several other companies that were effectively owned by the same company. I have a sinking feeling that no one is actually aware of what the company does and with a team of lawyers behind them, they would be virtually unstoppable to do as they wished. What were they planning to get out of us in the competition? As much as I hate to admit it to even myself, this was the only way I was going to be able to get to where I needed to fast enough.


    I close out the tabs, and then open the game back up. The official meetup was in a week, which means that the contest isn¡¯t going to official start until after the interview. It makes me wonder, if our current scores will actually be used, or if it is going to reset us to zero. I¡¯m hoping that it will be based off of our current scores and that they will start officially grading us based off of the rules. I frown thinking about that. If that¡¯s the case, I definitely have some catching up to do. I look at the time and gasp. I have wasted two hours dicking around with the contest entry. It is past three in the morning and I haven¡¯t even started on the game. In a blind panic, I open up the scoreboard and sigh in relief. Eric¡¯s score hasn¡¯t changed, he must have decided that it was a large enough gap and that he could relax tonight. He¡¯s probably snoring his head off about now. I eat the last portion of the candy bar slowly and then finish off the coke. That was probably the last time I was going to be able and enjoy something that tasty in quite some time.


    I know my nervous bladder was going to be a huge issue, so I make sure to take care of business before hopping back on. I push the table back into its place against the wall and then slide the headset over me. I decide to remain in a relaxed seated position, knowing that this will keep me comfortable for at least eight hours. I¡¯ll refrain from drinking any water unless I absolutely need it and I have the pitcher next to me with a two glasses in case I do. On a more gross level, I have a second glass here if I find the need to relieve myself again. Having a nervous bladder is the worst. I generally have to use the restroom several times before doing anything that I know will be time intensive. I know it¡¯s all mental, but it hasn¡¯t stopped, so I assume it¡¯s pretty safe to say that it¡¯s not going anywhere.


    I¡¯m back to the title screen again, but this time I¡¯m looking it over. The colorful pixel images greet me and I¡¯m looking them over with renewed interest. Why is this so different from the main game? And in our time, the fact that the graphics are outdated is the understatement of the year. Especially considering that you can¡¯t distinguish reality from fantasy if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that you were wearing the gear. If I had really splurged, I would have turned this entire space into a fully immersive world complete with wind effects, smells, you name it. It might be my youth kicking in, or stupidity, but I¡¯m really debating on doing that with some of the funds I pull out next month.


    I¡¯m really not sure how kids could take these games seriously back then. The bright, flashing colors hurt my head. I don¡¯t want to stare at this longer than I have to, but I know I should be more careful and pay attention. Eric didn¡¯t just get that score off of beating the Night Queen alone. That was an impossibly large score for the first boss battle. I relent, looking at the score. Was there any game I could actually think of that kept a scoring system at all like this? Especially, a first person shooter? Hell, even a puzzle based RPG, or role playing game, like Dragons of Evermore that released last year. It was considered one of the toughest games to complete and was notorious for taking so long to complete raids or dungeon crawls that a few people had been reported dead while playing it. I was with a small amount of people that believe this was a publicity stunt set up by the game company Fantasy, Lunar Lander¡¯s biggest competition.


    A raid is basically a large team of people online that ban together to defeat a particularly hard boss. Dungeon crawlers are viewed as incredibly redundant to some people, but I love them. And with the luck of the draw on loot mixed with randomized terrain, or dungeons that included crypts, mountains, underground, abandoned buildings, or even other planets©¤ the possibilities are endless. You have to bust your ass to gear up and somehow defeat something that has several times your hit points, or health, and find a way to outwit them. I am excellent at figuring out patterns, which is why I love this type of adventuring. As much as I love loot, I love the storylines even more. They are often tales of tragedy, or a people wronged. Basically, it follows some nobody from a random village who is destined to save the world. It¡¯s one of the oldest tropes known to the western world but I can¡¯t get enough of that shit. Ironic, considering the position I¡¯m in if I can¡¯t locate my own crew.


    I¡¯m wasting too much valuable time thinking about this, so my attention goes immediately back to the flashing images on the screen. Phantom scrolls from the top of the screen to the middle and blinks a few times before fading. On the bottom right a guy walks across the screen and pauses in the middle. His hair is brown, and he is wearing a pair of blue pants, and what looks like a white sweater. His hands go up and a bunch of pixelated mean-looking cops enter from the left, their guns drawn. One of the officer¡¯s fire and the man holding up his arms falls to the ground. Red pixels fill the bottom of the screen and then the entire screen turns red. Then, it twinkles and turns into the night¡¯s sky. This is all that happens, before the scene replays.


    I watch it for a fourth time, trying to see if there is some clue based off of what they are all wearing, but nothing is jumping out at me. Then I notice it. The background is a pixelated version of the constellations, all slowly twinkling. The only reason that I realize this is because the pattern of the twinkling. Sudden, the shape of Ursa Major, or the big dipper. Pops out at me. Next, I spot Hydra and then Virgo, which is incredibly hard to spot until I watched it for a third time and realize that the star Spica, which represents the ear on a grain of wheat from her hand is there. Then one last one appears and I stare for a moment at it. The pattern looks vaguely familiar, but I can¡¯t exactly remember which one it is.


    My mother, bless her, she loved looking at the stars and she taught me everything there was to know and what time of year you could see them from the Northern Hemisphere in the US. My grin goes ear to ear at this revelation. Ok, so I know that if both Virgo and Ursa Major are visible, this means that the constellations are exactly where they would be in the night sky right at this moment. I¡¯m not sure how this is going to help me, but I have to try. I pull up a map of the night¡¯s sky this time of year and prompt the program to name each constellation. It confirms and starts the long process of mapping the night¡¯s sky visible to me. I keep the start screen playing, as I wait for the software to finish, when I hear the pleasant series of jingles I know that it¡¯s finished. I open it up and I¡¯m immediately overwhelmed by the amount of names listed. This won¡¯t do at all. I need just the name of one particular constellation, not this mess. Then it dawns on me, ¡°Alexa, take a screenshot when I tell you.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± she responds. I flip open the screen and wait patiently at the final rotation. When it comes back around, I¡¯m practically on the edge of my seat with anticipation. The final pattern twinkles and I yell, ¡°Now.¡±


    There¡¯s a pause as the program takes a photo. ¡°Photo is prohibited and is against the developer¡¯s privacy policy. See the gamer¡¯s manual on page©¤¡± ¡°That¡¯s enough, Alexa, thank you. Please open a free drawing program.¡± A drawing program opens and I hastily sketch the shape onto it and then save it on my cloud drive. ¡°Alexa, compare the sketch I made to any known constellations recorded.¡± ¡°Sure, no problem.¡± She says cheerily. Barely a few seconds pass before she is back. ¡°This drawing best matches with a known constellation called Cassiopeia.¡± My brows go up at the mention of the constellation, I¡¯ve never heard of this before. ¡°Alexa, what is the mythology behind Cassiopeia?¡± A pause.


    ¡°Cassiopeia was known as the wife of the king Cepheus, which is represented by the constellation Cepheus next to Cassiopeia. In mythology, she boasted that her beauty far surpassed that of the Nereids or the sea nymphs that were fathered by the Titan Nereus. Angered by her bold statements, the nymphs appealed to Poseidon, the god of the sea to punish Cassiopeia for her words. Poseidon was married to one of the nymphs, Amphitrite, and so he obliged and sent out Cetus, also known as the whale, to decimate Cepheus¡¯s kingdom. Cepheus turned to an oracle for help, and the oracle revealed that in order to please the angered god, they must sacrifice their daughter, Andromeda to the sea monster. Andromeda was saved at the last moment by Perseus, a Greek hero that happened to be traveling that way. After saving her life, the two became engaged. At their wedding, one of Andromeda¡¯s suitors named Phineus appeared and claimed that he was the only one who had the right to marry her. There was a great battle, in which Perseus was gravely outnumbered. In desperation, he used the head of Medusa, a monster that he had recently slain to defeat his enemies. For you see, one look at the beast¡¯s head turned the viewer into stone. Unfortunately, in the chaos the king and queen both died gazing upon the head. Poseidon then placed both the queen and the king in the night¡¯s sky. Cassiopeia was condemned to circle the celestial pole and spend half of the year upside down as punishment for her vanity. She is usually shown as sitting on her throne, combing her hair.¡±


    Upside down, I muse. That¡¯s what is throwing me off. There was something else bugging me about this, but I can¡¯t figure out what. What did an ancient fairy tale have to do with the game? I don¡¯t even bother glancing at the time, I knew it had to have been close to five in the morning. It wouldn¡¯t be long before I would lose every advantage I have with Eric choosing to sleep tonight. Maybe I should just play the game instead of messing with a stupid title screen. Maybe it was just some artistic flair the developers decided to add to do something different. That was a more popularized trend these days, finding a way to really stand out from the others. Games were often portrayed as fully immersive and real life. Especially first person shooters. They were beloved by people because it was something that they could use to get away from real life. It was a way to finally become that action hero that saves the world and is adored. It wasn¡¯t just that way with first person shooters. Many people could live out dating sims, survival horror, pop idols©¤ you name it, it could be simulated in a way that was exactly like real life. Somewhere along the line, people traded their own dull lives for living in an online adventure. Who honestly wouldn¡¯t? Compared to what was actually available in the real world, why would you even second guess? It isn¡¯t entirely present now, but it¡¯s getting there. Soon, any and all social events will be converted to online and no one will have a need to come face to face with each other. At least, for the next year.


    What was interesting about what Lunar Lander was doing, was that no one had used the pixelated graphics like this except for nearly fifty years ago when there was a revival of the old pixelated games. This is the reason why it was so different, and why I was so hung up on an opening screen. With it being a huge point of debate on all of the online forums only strengthens what I originally thought. I pull up the Phantom forums, including the sites that are most known for helping others. We¡¯re talking the sites that you have to click on several different links and read through thousands of comments to find. Usually only the most popular votes appeared at the top, but you have to do some digging if you are going to find what you need to. Almost all of the sites I pull up are huge disappointments. Since the competition was announced people have either removed their comments, or moderators have in the spirit of the game. This meant that not only did Eric probably know more than me, he also had gotten to see all of the clues on the message boards. Not only him, but potentially thousands of others that had read the comments before me. My heart sinks as I think about not only the people that saw them, but the moderators. How much do they know? The trail was going to be completely cold on all of the major sites that much I know. I need more time to think. It¡¯s like the world has pulled the rug out from beneath me and I know I¡¯m about to fall, but I¡¯m protecting myself along the way to prevent too much damage.


    It¡¯s seven a.m. when I spot it. I¡¯m literally at the end of my rope, and nearly about to give up when I find my first real clue in one of the most unlikely places. It¡¯s a single comment in a child¡¯s game forum. The game is called Mini-Game Haven and it¡¯s a collection of all the puzzle games ever created within every game ever made in recorded history. Its sole purpose was to let kids play just the mini-games if they didn¡¯t want to play the actual games themselves. Everyone else is discussing how to defeat Medusa in the third mini-game of Pantheon. Pantheon is a game in which you played out all of the Greek or Roman gods¡¯ stories and how I actually remembered learning ancient history in one of my specialty courses. All of them were comments geared toward how to defeat her, except for the one comment about two-thirds of the way down the main page. I¡¯m laughing at myself for actually believing this person, especially since the user¡¯s name is uncle strawberry. I stare at the sentence, trying to scrutinize if it is legit or not. No one in the forum has caught on to what they are saying because it actually has nothing to do with the mini-game. It even has several down votes and people calling him an idiot. The comment reads, ¡°For you see, one look at the beast¡¯s head turned the viewer into stone.¡± There is a line break and then it is an asci picture of the upside down constellation of the woman. She looks the same except for one difference, there are a series of points on the top of her head. I take a screenshot and then pull up the story. The others on the forum might not be aware of what this is, or how much this is actually worth, but I am. This has got to be a clue, or one of the most well-placed troll comments I¡¯ve ever seen. I scan the few lines of text and then compare it to the information that Alexa has gotten for me. I scan through the fairy tale and then pause halfway through. Cassiopeia was defeated by Medusa¡¯s head which is what caused her to ultimately die and be placed in the night¡¯s sky as punishment. I lean back and look at the art again, then back to the information. What was it I was missing? What in the blue hell did this have to do with the game? I thought on what I actually had revealed with the game.


    Lunar Lander had not only done something different with the main access page and credits, they also had done something that was unprecedented. They had done something that would have caused most major gaming companies to lose all of the money they actually put into their game and tank horribly. No one actually knew what the game was about. The trailers, were simply of the developers and the designers talking about how it was going to be something that changed the way the world played games. That¡¯s why so many people found it intriguing. How could you expect to actually gain a following if people didn¡¯t know what it was about? Yet somehow, it had the complete opposite effect. The game had an unholy amount of people that downloaded it, and the game forums had blown up talking about what they knew. Until yesterday when everything was removed.


    Here¡¯s what I do know from what I¡¯ve played: The main character, Victor Credence wakes up in a single cell room with no lights, no running water, and what appears to be a completely sealed room. He remembers his name, but little else. Sure, it sounds like every dumb action or mystery trope everywhere but this one feels different. Not only are you able to be fully immersed in the world, you could actually feel yourself crawling through spaces, smell the stale air, and hear the rats scuffling through the spaces and the soft murmur of the men. You have no other information than that, just a name. I have no idea how it manages to make me actually smell what the main character does, because my headset isn¡¯t even capable of doing that. Part of me thinks that it must be lighting up the sections of my brain that causes smelling and that it is just creating the illusion that I am there when the character remarks about the smells.


    There is a co-op version, but you have to play through the beginning solo and then you are able to meet up with the other players. But that was only in the player versus player arenas. The main story mode had to be played single player. The first part of the game didn¡¯t leave you with much. All you literally had to figure out how to exit the room was the clothes on your back. I could hear muffled talking on the other side of the walls, so I had known that there was a way out. Banging on the walls only resulted in a slat opening and a single dart shooting through. This was a completely frustrating in-game time out. I had been locked out for twenty minutes until my character ¡®woke up¡¯ and I could try again. After figuring out that drawing attention to myself was not the way to go, I started really looking at the space that I was in. The entire room appeared to be made from an extremely durable plastic that was bonded with some sort of thick resin. When I knocked on the hard surface, the sound came out muffled. After nearly an hour of being stumped and several minutes of me cussing out the walls, a thought occurred to my dumbass.


    In hindsight, I gave myself tons of shit for not thinking of it beforehand and losing my cool like an idiot. The room would need a ventilation system. I wouldn¡¯t need to leave this room for anything other than the restroom, but this was a game and bodily functions were never taken into account in the digital world. Since it was a game that meant it was probably going to be something outlandish. Instead of pace the room like I was doing, I decided to sit on the floor and close my eyes. At first, I was just a jackass sitting in the middle of the floor in a game. After several seconds though, there was a distinct sound to my left and just behind me where a window might be in an actual jail cell. As soon as I stood, it went away. When I walked over to where I had heard the noise, nothing happened. Frustrated, I sat down and closed my eyes again. There it was. It was now coming from my right since I had switched myself around the face the area I had first heard it. When I stood again and it ceased, I knew that it must be something I would have to view from the ground, or that I was activating it by placing pressure on the floor. I literally scooted my ass along the floor toward the sound and then broke into a smile. It had gotten louder and now I could feel it brushing against my skin.


    Point is, after several more wasted minutes I figured out that the breeze was coming from a weak area in the back of the cell near the floor. When I¡¯d finally managed to remove a hunk large enough to dig at the rest of the wall and pull myself free©¤ I was met with a new problem. The cell was part of many other cells that were suspended over a drop. A very large drop. The kind that you knew if you fell, there wasn¡¯t going to be much of you left. My hands had instantly got sweaty looking down at it and I had to tuck my head back in to relax and take a deep breath. So the traditional ¡®dropping down some ventilation shaft trope¡¯ was a no-go. It took many more hours, but I had finally found out that my character had something called a stamina meter which appeared any time I had to climb, or exert myself. Given that there wasn¡¯t much in my cell implied that my character was probably weak from sitting and doing nothing, or just doing push-ups and sit-ups. That meant that I had little means to train myself for lifting my actual body weight. There were no bars, which meant if I had managed to work out I couldn¡¯t strengthen my hands or fingers to grip. They really had taken everything into account with this game, the sheer amount of detail was insane. I had no way of knowing who was keeping me here, or how long I had until they came back, but the music was becoming increasingly foreboding which meant I probably had little time before they discovered what I had done. Whoever ¡®they¡¯ were. Shit, for all I knew I was a damn criminal trying to escape.


    Maybe I was the bad guy. But that didn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t going to get the hell out of there. After several failed attempts and having to go back to my cage, I finally found a small indention that was marked every two feet. The notches weren¡¯t much, but it was enough for my fingers and toes to grasp onto. I was nearing the top when my cell started to move. There was a tremendous rush of air behind me and I snapped my neck around to see what was going on. Loud buzzers went off as a roar filled the enclosed space. I actually had to turn the volume down on my headset it was so loud. At first, it reminded me of a rushing train or the tornado simulations I¡¯d heard but then I realized with growing dread what it actually was. Water, lots of it.


    There was a groan, and then suddenly I was weightless. Terrified, I climbed the rest of the way to the top of the giant cube. The only thing I can think that kept me on top was the sheer terror of my grasping onto my hand controls as I gripped the cable at the top. Well, that and dumb luck. I smacked my head and jaw as the structure made contact with the water. The entire thing twisted and spun as the other cubes landed around it. Then, we were on the move yet again. Even though I was spinning violently, I somehow managed to hang on. I felt like I was one of those men riding a bull, one-handed and blindfolded. There was so much water splashing around me that I couldn¡¯t even keep my eyes open. After several seconds of struggled to orient myself, I realized where I was heading. It was the only place that made sense since it was where the air had been rushing from. The dark room had quickly faded behind me as the blinding light charged in at an alarming rate. The cubes around me were funneled behind my own and it took a moment to realize that there were bumpers on either side of the room. I bent my head around at the open space and gasped.


    There was an entire city out there, one that I had never seen before. The lines of the buildings were so smooth, it was almost unrecognizable as a city at first but then I noticed the gleam from the light and realized it was a reflection. Only one thing in nature actually did that, and it was water. Those shapes were too geometric to occur in nature, which meant that it was definitely man-made. I managed to twist myself around while holding on to the cable as the bobbing subsided and the ride was starting to even out. Everything slowed as we neared the edge of the giant open doors. This was probably the next area we were supposed to travel toward, but I knew it was probably going to take quite some time to get to. Judging by how long it had taken me to get to this point, I knew that traveling to a city that appeared to be several miles out, wouldn¡¯t be easy. We had slowed nearly to a crawl and I was just starting to relax©¤ but then, I looked down. The only thing I knew to say was a word that was repeated over and over again, the whole way down the waterfall. That word, was shit.


    That fall was so intense, I had nearly thrown up. Roller Coaster simulators had nothing on that drop. I¡¯m not sure how the hell I managed it, but somehow my ass snapped into self-preservation mode and I had leapt over the side with the cable. I tumbled into bottom of the cube feet first and rolled to the opposite wall. The next thing I know, there is a huge crash as my cube hits the water. Now I know why the walls are so thick. Even though they are padded, every part of my body is singing in pain from crash. The cube topples a few times before it rights itself. Then it dawned on me, there must have been some sort of weight in the bottom of the cube to make it tip back. I was screaming like an idiot, whooping and laughing my head off when the next problem happened. In all my excitement to actually be alive, I¡¯d forgotten two things:


    one, I was inside the cube that now had a hole in it and two, we were in water.


    As fast as the water rushed in, the color left from my face. Then I remembered the cable. The room was too small to gain enough leverage to get my way out, and the water was rushing in which meant I wouldn¡¯t be able to have the strength to pull myself out. The current was my advantage here with the cable, it wouldn¡¯t pull it from my hands. I needed to wait until it was mostly submerged and then pull my way through the space. The water had been icy cold that much I remember, and once it reached over my head, I had barely been able to feel my fingers. But I did it. I drug myself through the two and a half foot space. When I surfaced, epic music greeted me on the other side as I drug myself toward the tree-lined shore.


    Enter me, currently.


    This was where I had left off the first time that I had run through. I had been lying when I told him that I¡¯d made it to the queen in the first part. The truth was, I had barely figured out how to get to the damn shore. I was only aware of the Night Queen because of all the forums online talking about the first big boss. The only reason I was second on the score charts, was because I hadn¡¯t died yet. Apparently, each time you died it meant you had to work twice as hard to score higher points. Many of us had suspected that it was a way to also let the moderators grade us on our use of creativity. I¡¯m not sure what I had done differently than the rest of them, but they must have liked something that I did.


    And here we are, back to me staring at these lines of text and an archaic way of drawing art on a computer. Ok, so a goddess placed in the night sky upside down and defeated by Medusa. Then a particular part of the text sticks out to me. Not a goddess, a queen. A queen placed in the night¡¯s sky. ¡°Alexa, give me all the names that Cassiopeia is known as.¡± ¡°No problem,¡± she says, then, ¡°Cassiopeia is also known as Queen of the Night¡¯s Sky,¡± I ground my jaw in annoyance. Duh, I think sarcastically. ¡°She is also known as Queen of the Night, and Night Queen.¡± My eyes grow wide as I make the connection. This was it, this was why it was placed on a random game forum. This beautiful person was giving us a clue on how to help with the Night Queen. The Night Queen was none other than Queen Cassiopeia and I had a huge clue on how to defeat her. I¡¯m bouncing in my seat and clapping for joy when suddenly my alarm goes off. ¡°Attention, tenant 10127, you have been online for eight hours. This is your daily reminder that you need to eat, use the restroom, and drink at least eight ounces of liquid. You also have not gotten in your four R.E.M. cycles, which is required to repair your body©¤¡± ¡°Yes Alexa,¡± I interrupt. ¡°I¡¯m aware. Thank you for the warning, I will be fine for one day.¡± ¡°Understood, however, your system is locked until you first complete these necessary tasks to ensure your survival.¡± I frown at the computer, ¡°All of them? I can simply take a nap, right?¡± There is a slight pause. ¡°You may take no less than a ninety minute nap to sustain normal bodily functions for the day.¡± I nod my head, ¡°Yes ma¡¯am, you¡¯re the boss. I¡¯m going to get up and stretch and do the other stuff.¡± ¡°Understood, 10127.¡± Despite my grouchy-ness, I manage a smile as I stand, remove the headgear, and stretch. She was probably right. I get a whiff of my underarms and grimace. Yep, definitely needed a shower. My stomach growled loudly as I padded toward the kitchen. ¡°Alright, alright, I get it,¡± I say patting my waist. I leaned down and pulled the door open, then remove a nutrition bar from the fridge. I quickly down it and a glass of water impatiently. The faster I got in a few hours of sleep, the faster I could get caught up to mister two million points.


    I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the small shower, letting its heat massage my aching shoulders and neck. I really needed to invest in one of those fully immersive models, that way I didn¡¯t have to sit uncomfortably for several hours. Which meant I could spend way longer than eight to twelve hours at the headset. The real problem was my damn body having actual needs. I didn¡¯t even know Alexa monitored my sleep patterns, but it made sense. If bots were programmed to assist us that meant that they are going to remind us when our needs haven¡¯t been met. My mind whirls with the possibilities from my earlier discovery. I might have figured out a clue on how to kill the night queen, but why was the comment there of all places? It could just be something as simple as someone didn¡¯t want their comment deleted, so they placed it in a spot that no one would think to look. But that only raised more questions. If that is true, why would someone actually try to help other competitors if they are a competitor themselves? At this point, the entire US probably knew about the contest and with everything being pulled from online, even if someone wanted to help others they couldn¡¯t. So why had this comment been spared? With all the search engines and bots that could have easily found it and deleted it, it was still there. Unless. Was it possible that this had been a clue planted by the Phantom creators themselves? Had Lunar Lander actually hidden this for someone to find? Then I think about how much trouble I had to go through to even enter the contest. This is absolutely something that they would do. I can¡¯t believe it. I have found an official clue on how to beat the first boss. If that¡¯s true, it is almost as if they wanted all of us to get to a certain point before the contest begins. The official orientation, much like the forms we are supposed to fill out, isn¡¯t our interview. This was.


    ¡°Alexa, wake me in exactly 90 minutes or when I have completed exactly one R.E.M. cycle.¡± ¡°Affirmative,¡± she responds, ¡°your alarm is set and I will be monitoring your sleep patterns.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± I say following it up with a big yawn. I¡¯m more tired than I realize, but the motivation to find more in-game is strong. I crawl into bed and slip beneath the covers. Thank god it¡¯s Saturday and I don¡¯t have to worry about class until Monday morning. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, tenant 10127.¡± My mind wanders as I feel my mind slipping away. Despite my obvious need for rest, I can¡¯t sleep until I ask it out loud. ¡°Alexa?¡± ¡°What can I do for you?¡± her soft reply comes. ¡°Can you call me something different?¡± There is a brief pause as she pulls up a personalization bar on the wall. ¡°Sure. What would you like me to refer to you as?¡± ¡°Please, call me Hull.¡± I whisper. The letters appear on the wall, ¡°Is this correct?¡± I look over at them, ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Confirmed. I will change this in all of your preferences and personalize your online experience.¡± ¡°Thank you, that¡¯s all.¡± I say. ¡°Ok. Get some rest, Hull.¡± I only manage a nod before my eyes close and the world fades away.


    My dreams are filled with blurry, white shapes speaking to one another against a pitch-black canvas. They are blotchy like a painting, yet smooth as fabric along the edges and shine like miniature diamonds against the abyss. They appear to be light years away from me, and yet I can hear their voice as clear as if they are sitting right next to me. ¡°Have I gone too far?¡± the sorrowful voice asks. It¡¯s masculine and deep, like thunder rolling in the distance. The second white shape speaks, its voice is feminine, and easy on the ears like hundreds of wind chimes in complete harmony blowing in the breeze. ¡°No, dear. She brought this punishment on herself.¡± The first voice sighs and then says, ¡°I suppose. Surely, the man did not deserve what has transpired against him?¡± ¡°Ah, but that is where you are wrong,¡± the second voice twinkles, ¡°you see, he made his choice when he chose to side with the queen from the beginning.¡± The man grunts then adds, ¡°You are, of course, right my dear.¡± There is a long pause before she speaks again, ¡°I wish I wasn¡¯t, but in this case everything is as it should be.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he agrees, ¡°but how long do you propose we keep her up there, upside down and all?¡±


    The woman chuckles, ¡°for as long as the stars remain in the sky.¡± ¡°Perhaps,¡± he says, ¡°or maybe we could simply build a bridge to her.¡± The woman¡¯s response becomes muddled, I can no longer make out what she is saying. His next response is also too soft to make out and I find myself straining to hear. Then something does sound. It¡¯s soothing, like the sound of birds calling in the distance and the warmth from sunlight is washing over my face. I blink a few times and prop myself up on my elbows. I look around at my room before realizing it is my alarm. ¡°Good afternoon, Hull. This is the time you requested to be woken up, do you wish to remain awake, or would you prefer to sleep longer?¡± ¡°No, I would like to wake up. Thank you, Alexa.¡± ¡°It is my pleasure. As promised, your VR unit is now unlocked for use. Would you like me to pick up where you left off?¡± ¡°Yes, thank you.¡± I respond. I hear the familiar soft jingle and then my headset begins glowing blue.


    I stand, make my bed and then pad over to the restroom. It felt good to get a little shuteye in. Oddly enough, I¡¯m not feeling groggy at all. I was worried that by sleeping I was going to be sluggish and ill tempered, but honestly©¤ I feel great. I grab more cool water from the fridge and then walk over and suit up. I pull up the run simulator and jump onto the treadmill. I chose ¡®mountain path¡¯ and then start a light jog. It feels great to finally stretch my legs. I know I¡¯m wasting a little of my time working out, but after all that candy and sugar, my body feels a little bloated. This should help get my body going. Exercise helps me think, always has and I needed to prepare myself for the next several hours I was going to spend getting through the game. The Rockies are every bit as beautiful as I would imagine them in the distance as I run through Rocky Mountain National Park¡¯s trails. I knew that I could run literally anywhere I wanted to, even the moons of Jupiter, but today I wanted the crisp cool feeling of mountains and forest near me and Colorado really was exceptionally beautiful. It was my thinking spot. As I neared the part of the trail that crossed a large river, I paused along the shore. There was nowhere to get across and it seemed like it was nothing but water and trees as far as the eye could see. I decided to head east when less than half a mile up the shore, I spotted what looked to be a path. As I strode closer, I realized that it was a small, animal-made bridge of trees. Probably randomly generated by the computer to allow me across. I let out a sigh and picked up the pace, continuing north toward the mountains. The trick to this simulation was that you always saw the mountains in the distance, but you never actually reached them unless you set a goal. It¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t been to the top before, but today I just wanted a good run in. I glanced down at the screen and initiated a cool down sequence. Man, I missed being young. I have run six miles today without breaking a sweat. I grin and blot my face with the towel I keep hanging over the edge. Feeling renewed, I walk over to the bathroom and take my second shower of the day. Then I¡¯m in some fresh, comfy clothes and pulling the headset back into place. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°Welcome back, Hull.¡± The announcer shouts as I pull up Phantom¡¯s title screen. I¡¯m grinning from ear to ear at the use of my new name. Ash and the others would definitely approve. That is, if they are still alive. It¡¯s weird, living two different lives at once. Part of me feels like I¡¯ve lost everything, while the other feels like I¡¯m just getting started. In the end, it¡¯s that youthfulness that wins me over. I may not see them now, but I have to believe that I will find them again. And the best way to help them all, is to keep everyone from dying, especially the good ones. Harris could go choke on a bag of dicks. I know it isn¡¯t right, but secretly I¡¯m hoping he really does not make it to the future. The only reason he did was because of his family connections. Two in the bunch were there because of that very reason. They didn¡¯t have any special training, nothing our society could have really used. Sure, at the very end it didn¡¯t matter because money was absolutely useless by then, but it helped them survive all the way up until when it actually mattered. I still find it hard to believe even now that only five people survived out of nearly twenty billion others. To be fair, that number got pretty low after the nuclear war. Roughly only a quarter of the population survived the fallout. Then another twenty percent died from complications to exposure and helping to build facilities that could contain the sick and treat them. All in all, it was mostly the wealthy and the few lucky ones with useful professions or skills that survived it all. Which only left somewhere around one billion people on the entire planet. Which we later found out that the human population hadn¡¯t been that low since before the twentieth century around the year 1804. There were many people in the future that believed it was some kind of natural selection or cleansing. The truth of the matter was, there was nothing natural about all those bombs going off and all of us had paid for it.


    I shake my head and pull up the information one last time. I was eager to log into the game, but something was warning me not to just yet. The constellation that I noticed before was in the title screen, but it was in the final rotation. Why had it chosen to show that one last and what did it mean? This had to be some sort of puzzle. Then, it hits me like a ton of bricks. Why else would it have been on the title page, it looks different, and the clue was placed in a random online forum for kids? Because, it wasn¡¯t random. The title screen was a mini-game. I¡¯m shaking as I watch the guy walk across the screen, put up his hands, and get shot. Then the stars come in. Ok, I know that it has something to do with the upside down queen. The Cassiopeia constellation pops up and my stomach lurches into my throat. I touch the screen anywhere I can and suddenly, it pauses. But that¡¯s all that it does. I hold my breath, frantically searching the page for any sort of clue. I sigh in frustration as the screen fades and it goes back to the title screen. By the second time, I tap and hold my hand there. This time, it pauses and I¡¯m able to look at it for longer. I¡¯m hoping that by holding it open, the screen will stay paused. When it stays paused, my shoulders relax and I sit back to get a better view of the constellation. She¡¯s just like she¡¯s supposed to be, upside down and combing her hair. I think back to the forum comment. The clue they had given me was the crown on top of her head, that¡¯s what made me realize that it was talking about a queen and the main boss¡¯s weakness had something to do with her story. You¡¯ve gotten this far, I tell myself, don¡¯t give up. There were no other shapes on the woman except the stars that had been connected in the original drawing. So, I try this first. I connect all the lines that make up the constellation of Cassiopeia. Nope, nada. Then, realizing my mistake, I draw her, the comb, and the mirror. I growl in frustration as nothing happens. The screen pauses every time, so I know I¡¯m on to something. But, there¡¯s something that I¡¯m missing. Something so simple that a kid could probably guess it.


    A kid. I pull up the comment again and take a look at the drawing. I am doing it right except for one simple thing. If this is right, I¡¯m going to kick myself for not seeing it sooner. I patiently wait as the title screen fades. Then, the constellations. Finally the queen shows herself and I pause it. This time, I include the mirror, the comb, and her crown. The screen goes crazy and begins flashing from green to blue. I stare in awe as the man pops up in the center of the screen. He smiles and waves, then just like in ancient style video games, a series of text boxes pop up:


    Welcome, Hull, to Medusa¡¯s Madness! Press start to begin.


    I hover over the button and then click enter. I can¡¯t believe it. I cannot believe that I have finally figured out how to do it. I was beginning to wonder if I just had an overactive imagination, but this was my proof. I¡¯m so excited that I can feel my entire body trembling. Secretly, I¡¯m hoping that Eric has struggled with it as long as I have so I don¡¯t feel like more of a jackass than I already do. Even that hour and a half felt like it was too much time to wait. Why in the nine hells did we not have a damn pill that made us bypass sleep yet? I mean, shit, we had anti-aging treatments and everything else, why not anti-sleep pills without side effects? The truth was, what we later discovered was that people could actually train themselves to get enough rest within four hours, but it took time and a strict schedule. Guess I had my work cut out for me if I wanted to compete. I need to actually train my mind how to sleep efficiently and I know Alexa can help me. She has with everything else. I¡¯ve always found it curious that we tend to call A.I. female names or associate female genders to them. Much like cars, or aircrafts. I wonder why that is. The screen fades back in and I lean forward. True to the older game style, text start scrolling from the bottom of the screen to the top. It reads:


    Welcome to my journey, traveler. Though many have been, none have played it from my side. I was born from Phorkys and Ceto, who were children of Gaea and Oceanus. With great pride, I was taken under the goddess Athena¡¯s wing. Known as the embodiment of wisdom, purity, and reason I could ask for no other greater mentor. However, I was to remain celibate if I would become one of her disciples. Poseidon, god of the sea, knew that the very same blood coursed through my mortal veins. In a moment of curiosity, I was lured by the king of the sea away from my righteous goddess¡¯s side. Not only did he steal my innocence, he doomed me to forever become something loathsome to mortals and gods alike. Once I was a creamy skinned, fair haired woman, now Athena has cursed me beyond recognition. Every lock of my golden mane has been replaced by venomous snakes. My skin is now tinged a sickly green and scaled like my creatures. And the most horrific of all, I once had beautiful eyes that could rival that of Venus herself. They were replaced by two bloodshot orbs and a look of fury forever plastered to my face. Now an outcast, I have fled to the edge of the ocean and hid myself inside of a cave with my sisters, Stheno and Euryale. My sisters are lucky to be that of a god, but I am nothing like them. And now I hear, that a god slayer is coming for me. One that was advised from Athena herself, armed to take on an entire mortal army©¤ let alone a mere mortal and a few lesser goddesses. I could leave, I could get myself as far away from this place as possible, but where shall that leave me? To yet again be cursed to walk the land as I am, shunned from anyone that may come into contact with me. Death will be easy, I say let it come.


    The screen fades away and I find myself wondering what sort of mini-game this would be. It was already sounding pretty damn depressing. What sort of journey would leave you dead in the end? And if you knew it was coming, and yet didn¡¯t fight it©¤ what sort of hero did that make you? Medusa, you weak-ass bitch, stand up and own those assholes. For shit¡¯s sake, she could turn men to stone by looking at them. Why didn¡¯t she just walk outside and be like, ¡®alright, bitches, I own this planet. Don¡¯t like it, then I¡¯m turning your ass to stone.¡¯ Seriously. I mean, there had to be one decent person on the planet that would actually look past all of that scaly stuff and chill with you. I was hoping it was going to be me playing something more, I don¡¯t know, awesome? Why not play the hero that freaking kills Medusa. Less than five minutes ago I was super pumped, but now I¡¯m pissed off. Was it too much to ask that I play someone that didn¡¯t have a death wish? I let out a long sigh. I was being silly and I knew it. There was probably a reason why I was supposed to play this mini-game before the actual game and I know that it has something to do with the Night Queen. I just needed to suck it up and put on my big boy pants.


    The man from the screen earlier appears, however this time he is dressed like a warrior. He¡¯s carrying a shiny shield, flying boots, and a grand helmet. He¡¯s sneaking into the cave where I am sleeping with my sisters. After looking at the instructions on how to open my inventory and to do simple actions, I¡¯m confident that I will be able to pull off a little bit of fighting and, I don¡¯t know, turn him to stone maybe? I don¡¯t know what this bitch wanted, but I definitely wasn¡¯t just going to roll over and die. He gets part way through the cave when I choose to wake my character. She snaps awake, then shakes her head. Her deep sultry voice rings out and I jump at the first words in the game, ¡°No, let him take me. It will be better this way.¡± I grind my jaw in annoyance as she lays back down and closes her eyes. Three choices hover over her head and I relax a degree. Ok, so they were at least going to provide me with a different outcome. I scan over them and switch my screen to the man walking. I didn¡¯t have much time, just a few more seconds. I could either stay asleep, wake back up and fight, or wake back up and try to reason with the man. The last two sounded more my speed, but I still weighed my possibilities. Finally, with only a few seconds remaining I chose option two. Medusa springs from the bed, the snakes fanning around her head. Her sisters wake and follow behind me. Finally, some freaking action. The man runs immediately halts and then switches to being invisible. I was so confident with the fact that I was going to catch him that I didn¡¯t stop to realize that he may have special abilities. I freeze in the room and take a look around. The only thing in the cave is the occasional water dropping from the ceiling and small puddles on the floor. Within a matter of seconds, my character drops to the ground, her head removed from the rest of her body. Well, that didn¡¯t work out so well. The second, and third time result in the same thing. I¡¯m glad they are at least giving me several chances, because I definitely need them.


    By my fourth time through, I¡¯m starting to lose faith in myself. I needed to look at my surroundings, see if there was anything that I was missing. Maybe I was supposed to try and talk with him instead. I pressed this option and my character sits up, and closes her eyes. The man halts in the entrance, but sees that my eyes are closed. He enters slowly and then approaches me with caution. After several moments, he looks at his shield and raises his sword to remove my head.


    ¡°Warrior of Athena, why do you seek my death?¡± she says. The man jumps back and hides beneath his cloak. My character holds up her hand and motions for her sisters to leave them be. The sisters leave the room. ¡°It is just you and me, worry not, I will not look at your face or harm you.¡± The man becomes visible again. ¡°Remember foul beast, if this is some sort of trick, I will make myself invisible again and slay you.¡± Medusa nods, but says nothing. ¡°Tell me, then.¡± The young man relaxes, but keeps his gaze averted. ¡°I do this to save my mother. I believe the man that she is betrothed is less than honorable. He has held a banquet in his and her honor and requested that horses be brought. He knew that I own none and in my haste, I offered that I would be able to do anything that he requested. So he tasked me to take your life, so that my mother¡¯s may be spared.¡± My character stays quiet for several moments before responding. ¡°And this will ensure her safety?¡± The man again nods. ¡°Then you must do it. A mother is a sacred thing.¡± This time, the man takes a while before answering my character, ¡°Why is it that you are so eager to take your own life, monster? Surely, now that I have known you we can find another way.¡± She looks to the cave entrance, careful to not meet his gaze. ¡°You have been asked for something of mine, no doubt, as proof.¡± The man stiffens and then shakes his head, ¡°Yes, my lady, I have been asked to bring back your head.¡± She smiles and then nods, ¡°You ask, and I will tell you. There is no place for me here. Use my life for good, as surely in death I will be more useful than in life.¡± ¡°What of your sisters, the gorgons?¡± She waves her hand, ¡°worry not, simply put on the cloak that hides you and sneak past. They will be unable to see you.¡± The man draws himself up and bows before the mortal monstrous queen. ¡°It will be my honor to do this for you.¡± She closes her eyes, ¡°May I ask but one thing of you?¡± He smiles, ¡°Of course.¡± Her voice comes out low and soft, ¡°make it quick.¡± Without giving her a chance to blink, his sword is swift and sure. Her head rolls to the ground, her large, red eyes unblinking. He looks away and places her head into a large sack. Then he races toward the entrance as he hears the sister¡¯s screams at having lost their queen.


    The screen goes black and then a few words appear:


    Congratulations, Hull, you have completed the first mini-game! Achievement: indigo has been unlocked.


    I blink as my score jumps from 875,000 to 1.5 million points. I¡¯m screaming and jumping as I return to the main screen. I can¡¯t believe how much I¡¯ve gained just from playing a simple story-driven mini game. It wasn¡¯t hard at all, it was more so a re-telling of an old story. I know this from what I have read earlier with the Night Queen. I wonder why they felt the need to give me such an in-depth storyline for the mini-game itself. It did say that I beat the first mini-game, which means there is either more in the world of Medusa, or there will be others like it. It was an incredibly sad intro and made me feel for her. Why had she decided to not look for some way to cure herself? Surely not all the gods in the game hated her. I mean, she basically holed herself up at the end of the world. I laugh at myself and pull up the tablet function on my VR. I have a tendency to really get caught up in these sorts of things, especially since I¡¯m a bit of a loner. Eric is pretty much my only friend. I chat on online forums often, and I¡¯d have what I call several acquaintances, but I¡¯d really only call Eric a true friend. I quickly jot down some notes so that I can remember everything that happens before I log into the actual game. Unable to contain my curiosity, I find myself logging into the forum to check the scoreboard. Sure enough, I have jumped all the way to second place only behind Eric. I¡¯m not sure how long it is going to take me to get to the Night Queen, or what the point of that mini-game was, but I knew enough to know that my score was going to trump his. I¡¯m practically glowing when I see it at the bottom of my avatar©¤ the indigo badge. I instantly deflate. There was no way that he had earned that by playing the mini game and playing against the Night Queen. But that would explain his outrageous lead. Was I wrong? Maybe he had completed both. If that is true, then that means that I¡¯m not as ahead as I thought I was. I instantly feel like an idiot. Of course that is why his score is that high. But if I already earned that much, this meant that the actual defeat of the queen only gave away five hundred thousand points. That means that our scores would tie. Shit. I am further behind than I anticipated. My only hope is that somehow I did something different that would make my score shoot up. I¡¯m hanging onto a small thread of hope that I will figure out this next part faster. His score hasn¡¯t budged, but I know he¡¯s probably back on the game at this very second. I jump up and run to the restroom, then snag another glass of water. Medusa¡¯s Madness had only taken me a measly hour and a half to beat, which meant that I had the rest of the day to beat the big bad queen of darkness and I am going to need it.


    I¡¯m in the zone, when my headphones light up. It¡¯s Eric¡¯s avatar complete with his newly acquired indigo badge. I wait a few seconds to collect myself and then hit the answer button.


    ¡°Did I catch you on the pooper or something?¡± I grin from ear to ear. Doesn¡¯t seem like this part will change between us. ¡°Yep, big ¡®ole log. Want me to send pics?¡± he chuckles and I hear his clothes rustling. ¡°So I just saw the big news, grats, Hull.¡± He places emphasis on my newly chosen name. I¡¯m again grinning like a big idiot. ¡°How did you figure it out?¡± He¡¯s laughing on the other end and my face grows hot as I answer my own question. ¡°Right,¡± I say out loud, ¡°the avatar.¡± He does what he usually does and ignores my dumb comments when he knows I¡¯ve figured it out. A lot goes on between us that¡¯s unsaid, I like that about him. I never have to explain myself, he just sort of gets it. ¡°You figured it out, eh?¡± I¡¯m a little startled by his words, but I¡¯m not surprised. Once he saw my score today, he knew that I had at least cleared the mini-game. There¡¯s a moment of silence and then I speak, ¡°Since we both figured it out, can I ask what you did the first play through?¡± He snorts, ¡°Trying to get secrets, huh?¡± ¡°Ah, come on man, we both beat it and got the badge. We¡¯re the only two that can really talk about it. You see the other scores? Not even close.¡± He¡¯s quiet, which makes me even more nervous. Maybe he knows something that I don¡¯t. ¡°Look, I¡¯ll talk about mine first ok?¡± I offer. I tell him about my research and how I stumbled across the kid¡¯s forum. Then I tell him about how I figured out the lady¡¯s name and finally how I managed to get into the mini-game. I¡¯m so excited, I¡¯m practically rambling as I finish my story, glad to finally get it off of my chest. He¡¯s still silent when I¡¯m finished so I look over at his avatar to make sure that we¡¯re still connected. When I notice that we are, I speak up, ¡°What, did I wow you with my superior knowledge of ancient Greece or what? You saw it, you were there.¡± I can see his mic has turned on, then muted, and then turned on again. ¡°Come on, Eric. You¡¯re creeping me out. Say something at least.¡± Finally, after several agonizing seconds, he speaks. It comes out weird and small, ¡°You figured out all of that in one night?¡± I¡¯m stunned into silence, both of us are. Finally, I speak, ¡°well, yeah, didn¡¯t you? I mean, you got that kick-ass score yesterday and are way ahead of the curve.¡± There¡¯s a weird tension hanging in the air. This isn¡¯t like him at all. ¡°Eric, have you been¡­¡± The call discontinues and I stare blankly at the screen. What the hell was that little display all about?


    I decide to go ahead and switch over to the game, no sense in trying to figure out what that display was about. He¡¯ll tell me when he gets done brooding over it anyway. The music starts up and I¡¯m thrown into the title screen sequence. I blink a few times at it, then hit escape to make sure I am in the right game. When I realize this is in fact Phantom, I can¡¯t believe my eyes. The entire opening scene has completely changed. When I beat Medusa¡¯s Madness, I must have unlocked the real title screen. My excitement mounts as the scene opens like a movie. We¡¯re talking fully immersive, surround sound, epic music©¤ the whole she-bang. For this, I knew better than to just stick to the normal options. This baby was going to be completely optimized for my viewing pleasure. I hopped over to the settings and made it widescreen, then I switched my headphones over to noise canceling. From here on out, I would not be able to experience anything except what was happening in-game. My mind is feeding me information at an alarming speed, as it is starting to come back to me. Less than two days ago, I would have skipped out on the chance to not only play the game of the century, but to fuck up the chance to save humanity while I was off wallowing in my own shit in rehabilitation lock down. Not only do I plan on making up for lost time, I aim to do it in style. The once cheesy announcer¡¯s voice has taken a sinister turn. It sounds like it¡¯s his tougher, seven foot tall older brother with a serious need for his pound of flesh.


    ¡®You think you know pain? Let me tell you about pain.¡¯


    My eyes roll at the dramatic opening line, but secretly©¤ I freaking love it. I can¡¯t believe I¡¯ve finally unlocked part of the story. The scene opens with my character locked in the same spot that I was before. I¡¯m slowly starting to worry that maybe this isn¡¯t an unlocked story at all and that somehow, my progress wasn¡¯t automatically saved. Then, my worry turns to curiosity as my character starts doing a play-by-play of my exact moves in yesterday¡¯s game.


    At first, I didn¡¯t know what to think. But I¡¯m trapped inside this hell hole and something tells me that if I don¡¯t get out soon, I won¡¯t live long enough to figure that out.


    I¡¯m freaking hooked, and getting more-so by the second. Not only have they added music to all of my dramatic scenes, they have managed to cut out all of the boring parts where I sat and thought about my next move. They have literally taken my game-play and turned it into an action film for the opening sequence. I have been making my own movie, retold to me by the creators of Phantom themselves. Holy shit. This was hands down the single most epic thing I have experienced in my entire pathetic existence. Lunar Lander is god tier level in my eyes at this very moment. Despite all of the cloak-and-dagger with forms and jumping through hoops for the game, this alone made up for all of that hassle. Their inner monologue is exactly like my own, eerily mirroring what I was thinking at the time as I glance outside at the city. I nearly choke I¡¯m laughing so hard when my character yells my exact expletive over and over. I¡¯m whooping in my chair as they expertly dive into the side of the hole and then crash into the water. They panic at first, fighting as the water started to fill the space. It zooms in on my face as I take one last breath and slip beneath into the icy blue. The music has become somber as I grip the rope. It almost looks like I have given up hope. Then, loud rock fills my ears as my character¡¯s eyes shoot open. My face scrunches up and I yell, then start pulling at the rope to get my ass out of there. My character breaks the surface as the hardcore music continues and the voice-over comes back.


    ¡®I¡¯m not sure what all of this means, but I do know one thing©¤ I¡¯m in for a hell of a ride.¡¯


    The last scene shows me up on the shore, and then turning toward the city that I saw before. It drops to blackness and then the crazy announcer¡¯s voice is back again.


    Are you ready?


    It gives me a few seconds and then my character is front and center, right where I left them in game. Something bothers me, and then I realize what it is. The main character in the story has been replaced with my avatar. From the nearly lavender-white hair, to the deep brown eyes, every detail is in place. The character model is much like my own body type, low body fat with a decent amount of muscle. If it was one thing I prided myself on, it was the amount of time I took to keep myself in shape. You wouldn¡¯t think so, since I was on my headset at least twelve hours a day, but that was why I spent extra on my entire rig. If I wanted to do strength training, I would simple strap on my ten to twenty pound vest, or leg and arm weights and go to town. Typically I would do my cardio five to six days a week and strength training three days. My mother had drilled the importance of keeping your body maintained, especially since most of our lives were soon to be moved to entirely online. I remember rolling my eyes at how often she worked out and would invite me to come along. I rarely joined her for her outside jogs, but the few times I remembered us going were absolutely some of my fondest memories. She usually chose to run past the lake, or down some of the few remaining dirt paths in the woods. Before the city had heavily enforced curfews, and taken out nearly all of the lighted streets, we would sometimes go out at night to do a little star gazing. Thankfully the first thing to go had been the light, and then the curfew. It was a no-brainer after all the robberies and deaths near our lofts. The daylight was beautiful, especially the warmth from the sun on cold days, but the nights were what I will always remember. With the light pollution nearly gone, all you could see were the lights allowed to be turned on in people¡¯s homes. With all of the automated pilots, there wasn¡¯t a need for traffic control signs, or lighted runways or planes. They were directly programmed to their destination, which meant there was less than a one percent chance of any sort of crashes happening. Unless, of course, the systems were hacked. That happened on occasion, but the amount of times it ever resulted in a crash were little to none. The amount of backup systems and protocols that were in place made sure that any craft that carried civilians was the equivalent of riding in Air Force One. That meant that the visibility was ridiculous, you could almost see the cloud from the milky-way in the middle of Downtown Dallas. That was virtually unheard of nearly a hundred years ago.


    I don¡¯t know what it is about this game, but it energizes me. I feel like I could play this a thousand different ways and never get bored. Part of me wonders if they made it this way so that each person experienced it differently. Was there an ultimate goal, a story? Or were we all just making it up as we went? This part of it fascinated me the most. While playing, I noticed yesterday that there weren¡¯t any other people, or non-player characters in my area. This could mean a whole number of different things. Perhaps it was a self-contained world after all with an overlying story arc, or maybe only certain parts of it were and then you met up with other players. No one really knew if this was strictly single player, or if they eventually would create a co-op, or multiplayer area. Hell, maybe one already existed and we just haven¡¯t gotten to it. That was the end of it, we just didn¡¯t know. I studied my character from the third person perspective. Every element of my avatar was in-place, including the belt with all of my colorful badges displayed. My newest indigo badge was shining brighter than the others. I was dressed in my casual attire with black tactical pants tucked into boots, and a short sleeved dark navy shirt. My clothes weren¡¯t as nice as many avatars I have seen online, but I shelled out nearly two hundred bucks on the get up. It wasn¡¯t much, basically the cost of a good meal and some toothpaste, but it was mine and I had saved up for nearly four months to get them. I wasn¡¯t big into blowing money just to blow it, but I figure if I¡¯m going to be online all the time, I¡¯d like to at least stare at something that makes me feel more comfortable. The standard issue avatar was dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, and some tennis shoes. That white shirt bore into my eyes every day and even though we were able to at least change our hair, eye, and skin color for free, our clothes were something that was considered a luxury. Sometimes, you could unlock special emotes or received a gift, but your avatar was locked to only certain displays when you were either visiting someone else¡¯s home, or playing in-game with other players. It was pretty much a way for others to flaunt all the different things their avatars could do based off of what they bought. People could teach their avatars how to play the violin, ballet, the way that character walked, or talked, learn elaborate fabricated dance numbers from movies, games, or books©¤ if you could think of it, there was someone out there that had created that emote, for a price of course.


    After ogling my character for several minutes, I¡¯m shocked to look at the real time. It would be dark soon and in all this time, I haven¡¯t reached the Night Queen. Eric is behaving beyond weird, so I know he probably has fired up Phantom and is determined to beat my ass into submission. I definitely needed to get my head out of the clouds and get on it. I gesture to go back into first-person mode and I¡¯m seeing from my character¡¯s perspective.


    It. Is. On.


    The first thing I do is take a look around the area, make sure there isn¡¯t any immediate danger. There¡¯s a small clearing in front of me before what appears to be a dense wooded area. Nothing seems to be near me except some tall grass on the bank and the muddy shore. I¡¯m standing on a three foot shore that appears to go to a tree-lined infinity on one side, and back to the falls on the west side. My jaw drops when I see the height that I fell from. It¡¯s so high, that I can barely make out what appears to be the top of a mountain. I don¡¯t know what these cubes had been made of, but they definitely must have been some heavy duty shit. I¡¯m disappointed when I look down the other side of the shore. I was hoping to catch a glimpse at the cubes and see if I could inspect a few of them, but they have long since floated down the river. The next thing I do is check my inventory, just to make sure that I didn¡¯t start with items, or pick up any items along the way. Yesterday there wasn¡¯t anything in my inventory, today was a different story. Something that appears to be a bag is there and it has a small, glowing halo around it. It looks like every other brown color sack that you would get in a game, complete with draw strings on either side. I double tap the screen and frown. Nothing happens. Then I try right-clicking the item©¤ it only has two options: destroy or bank. No other information is given about the item than this. Usually in most games, you are able to see if there is a certain level your character has to get to before the item is unlocked, what the item is, and some of its stats. This had absolutely none of that. It was like getting a grey/white colored newbie item in game, but with nothing else to offer. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? I exit out of my inventory and the field in front of me opens up. There¡¯s a short cinematic of the tall grass and trees blowing in the wind and a close-up of my character closing their eyes and enjoying the moment. The final part of the cinematic pans over what appears to be a bunch of very tall rocks, there¡¯s a brief glint from the sun and then it goes back to real time. I know what that spot is, it¡¯s the city I saw earlier before I dropped a million miles to the shore. It was a gentle way of nudging me to head in that direction without spelling it out for the player.


    Normally, you have a mini-map or a map that you can refer to when playing games, but this one didn¡¯t have that. If this was based off of the rules on Earth that meant that I needed to wait a few minutes to see which direction the sun was going before I could get my bearings. I knew which direction I was walking to get to the city, but I needed to be able to tell which way was what so that I was able to get back to where I started, or if I managed to somehow die or get lost in the woods. I searched the ground and found a stick, and two small stones. I know the sun should be bright enough that a basic sundial will work. The issue I would run into in the woods would be that without sun, I would have to use markers so that I wouldn¡¯t lose my way. That wasn¡¯t a sure-fire solution, and there was a chance that animals or creatures might tear them down. Then there was an even more troubling thought, if I did manage to get all of that area marked so that I knew if I was going in circles, what if the game reset the area after you left it? I have no idea what I could possibly be up against and needed to be prepared for anything. I would need to do a few purposeful circles to see if they did, in fact, do just that. Then there was problem number two. If my markers did mostly stay and creatures left them alone, there was the trouble of the actual creatures themselves. Would I even have time to plant these markers? I couldn¡¯t if I was being attacked and what the hell would I use to even defend myself with? With all of these questions in mind, I decided my best course of action is to calm down and tackle each problem as they happened. Just like in the ship with the crew, I reasoned. Finally, my older, wiser self is taking control and I relax a degree. Don¡¯t lose your head Hull, I scold.


    I stand the stick upright in the dirt and then place one of the stones at the tip of the shadow created. Then I wait fifteen minutes in-game time as the shadow moves slightly. I place the last stone on the end of this shadow as well and then remove the stick from the ground. Using my best judgment, I visualize a straight line and place the stick flat on the ground behind the two rocks. I am excited to discover that the large river runs near-perfect east and west. Now that I have those directions established, I know that the city is just about due north. I close my eyes and visualize the scene again. Since my prison is from the east, I know that the city isn¡¯t exactly north. That means I need to head northwest as close to a straight line as I can manage. I¡¯m hoping that the woods aren¡¯t too thick and that I am able to find a patch of sun to use while daylight is still useful to me. A red glow borders my vision and I look down at the bottom of my screen. I know that I have a stamina meter, but what I hadn¡¯t noticed before is there are others as well. This one seems to be glowing red, as opposed to the light blue bar for my stamina. I spin around to make sure nothing is attacking me and then sigh in frustration when I don¡¯t see anything. Ok, so if nothing is attacking me that means there is some sort of other danger. If this game seems true to real life, then it must mean that my character is either thirsty or hungry. I glance over at the water. Since I don¡¯t have any tools, I can¡¯t gather water. That means I will need to go find something to put it in so that I can actually cook out any harmful bacteria. A lot of people believe that you can drink water if it isn¡¯t stagnant water, this is false. You always need to at the very least boil the water. Am I being overly cautious? Hell yeah I am. I¡¯m not putting anything past the Phantom creators, and I¡¯m willing to bet no one else should either.


    I reason that those cubes have fallen out of an area that isn¡¯t good to go back to, so I need to head along the shore to the west. If I don¡¯t find anything that can help me, I can make a makeshift filter with dirt, and use bark from the trees to boil the water with. Fire, I had down pat and I already had a stick, and some dry rocks. Now all I would need is to find some dry grass to start the fire. I was on my way. This was my first chance to test my theory about marking the spots that I would walk through. I create a triangle pattern and shove another stick into the middle, making sure that it is far enough back that the water won¡¯t wash it away. Hopefully the game won¡¯t reset and it will still be here when I get back. I charge along the shore, noting that I should probably not travel more than a mile and just use what I have around me. I have no idea what night will bring and that means playing it safe.


    I¡¯m maybe half a mile down the river when I spot it. On first glance, it looks like a spec, but as I get closer I recognize instantly what it is. It¡¯s nearly covered in dirt, but the handle is sticking out of one end. It¡¯s a pot. Finally, an item! I pick it up and it instantly appears in my inventory. I¡¯m feeling extremely proud of myself walking back when I hear it. It¡¯s small, and guttural©¤ similar in sound to a large bird. I freeze as it loudly chirrups in my direction. Three options float above my head:


    <ol>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Book it.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Turn around.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Pull out the pot and stick.</li>


    </ol>


    A timer flashes above my head. I have ten seconds. Ten. If I run, chances are the creature is on four legs and will outrun me. Nine. If I take the time to turn around, it may pounce and be alarmed at my presence. But if it¡¯s anything like a large cat, or black bear I may be able to intimidate it. Eight, Seven. I try to open my inventory but a warning message pops up that I can¡¯t do that while in combat. Six, five, four. There was my answer, ¡®in combat.¡¯ I had only one weapon on me. Three, two¡­.ONE. I click option 3 at the last second and wait. My character pulls out the pot and stick and strike the two together. There¡¯s a sharp hiss and a shuffle of feet splashing across the water. I spin around, but whatever was there has only left a few watery prints on the other side of the shore and some broken brush. I¡¯m about to relax when my red warning flashes across my screen again. My stamina gauge has refilled, but I still had to deal with my thirst and hunger. I don¡¯t waste a second and get the hell out of dodge. Whatever that thing is, it doesn¡¯t want to be friends. Those footprints looked to be about twice my own and my character is weak. My stamina bar is nearly depleted from running so hard and I¡¯m at less than a quarter of my full bar on my red meter before I come to a halt. I finally come out from the canopy into the small opening that I first arrived and open my inventory. I fill the pot to the brim and then turn back toward the grass. I need to get to the trees so that I can find some bark and wood for fire. The creature I encountered earlier might possibly be there, or more of them. To be fair, I am in its territory so really, I¡¯m the invader here but if it¡¯s between me and that bird-raptor-lizard thing, then I¡¯ve got bad news for it. After I fill up, I turn back toward the shore and let out a long sigh of relief. All of the stones and sticks are exactly where I left them. Things are starting to look up.


    The woods aren¡¯t nearly as bad as I imagined them. For the most part, I can see daylight coming through and they aren¡¯t terribly dense. I head directly northwest through the line of trees, careful to mark them every so many feet in case I get turned around. I should be able to build up a defense and sleep shelter if I need to stay a night. I don¡¯t think that it will come to this, but what this game is teaching me is that I should be prepared for anything. I find a small clearing and set down the branches, shredded kindling, dead grass, and dead trees that I could gather flammable wood from. I detest the stick method to start fires, but it looks like they have given me little to no choice. With one stick, I start creating a small groove in the wood. I can¡¯t find a sharp enough rock, but I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be able to locate one later on to create a faster way to make fire. Satisfied with the groove, I begin moving the stick back and forth across it to create dust and increase the temperature. As the dust starts flying, I slowly add the dry grass and bark mixture and puff little spurts of air into it. It¡¯s taking quite some time, and I¡¯m no expert, but I finally manage to build up enough of a spark to ignite the little pile.


    I¡¯m rewarded with a nice, warm fire after nearly forty-five minutes of hard work. I¡¯m pretty sure that I got my entire day¡¯s work out in that time. I wait a solid minute of boiling the water before I allow my character to drink from it. That should kill off anything that would possibly make me sick. I grin from ear to ear as I think about all the people that have probably lost their shit from this part of the game. The only reason that I know half of this shit, is because dear old mom loved the outdoors. She taught me everything that I would need to know to survive if for any reason we got into trouble while camping. The other things I learned, well, those were best left to stay distant memories. After the bombs went off, there wasn¡¯t much left that people hadn¡¯t done to each other. Those of us that had survived were forced to do horrible things to those that have lost their humanity. More importantly, their compassion.

 We Are The Last - Chapter IV - The Night Queen

    The sun appears to be setting by the time I start making some decent headway. When the cinematic played earlier, there hadn¡¯t been an overview of how much of the wood existed. This means that I have no frame of reference on how much time will pass before I can get to it. The red bar has filled back to nearly halfway after I filled up on two pots of boiled water. It was tedious, but I managed to drink enough to sustain my character for a while. I know it probably didn¡¯t fully raise up because I need to eat. If I can make it to the city, I have a feeling I¡¯ll be just fine on that end. People can survive for days without food, it is water that I will need to keep an eye on. With each crack of sticks beneath my feet, and the crunch of my boot I cringe at the possibility of creatures that are aware of my presence. Especially those with a predatory nature like myself. Just out of curiosity, I glance down at my pedometer. I can¡¯t believe it. I have walked a total of nearly twenty miles. Which meant that I have been playing for quite some time. That got me thinking, I¡¯m not sure how much time has passed in real time versus in-game time. Confident that my character was ok, I tapped the top of the screen to check. It was nearly nine p.m. my time. That meant that I had been playing for nearly twelve hours and I haven¡¯t even made it to the major city. If that¡¯s what it even is. It won¡¯t be much longer until Alexa will lock me out so that I get some sleep. Maybe I am being a little too cautious. I switch back to the game screen and continue running forward. I still mark the trees every so often with pebbles or snapping branches, but not nearly as often as I was before. I¡¯m running up against not only being locked out, but also at being able to beat the first boss like Eric has. This means that I need to keep moving. I have no idea what I¡¯m doing, but I know that the city was pointed out to me for a reason and I¡¯m heading that way. I¡¯m just about to reach a clearing and pause. I¡¯m hoping in my haste that I haven¡¯t gotten too far off track. I turn back toward the woods and my breath catches. I can only see maybe ten feet out, if that.


    The entire woods is nothing but darkness. When I try to go back, I am sent back to the clearing in the woods. That means that all of my careful planning and time spent tracking my every step was worthless. I can¡¯t go back. I have lost countless hours that had little effect on the game itself and it was all my fault. I¡¯m so furious with myself that I can barely think straight. Who am I kidding? Eric earned that title fair and square. He probably found out the forum, read completely through the rules, and managed to beat the first mini-game and boss in the same amount of time that I¡¯ve found myself lost in the middle of the woods. Not only am I behind, but I¡¯ve not nothing to show for it. I throw a huge punch at a nearby tree and yell. I know it won¡¯t do me any good, it¡¯s not like it¡¯s going to help me get further in the game, but at least I feel better. It¡¯s hilarious how I actually thought that I had somehow gotten ahead. In fact, I was probably hours behind. I am sure that if I look at Eric¡¯s score, it¡¯s going to be wildly high and I¡¯ll never manage to catch up.


    I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯m wanting to torture myself, or just need a good kick in the ass but I force myself to look at the scoreboard. I¡¯m shocked to find that second place has now been tied with a player known as Sitting Pretty. We were exactly matched at 1.5 million, still topped by Eric¡¯s score of 2 million. Which meant that I still had a shot of catching up if Alexa would let me catch another 90 minute nap. Come on, shit head don¡¯t give up now, I tell myself. I don¡¯t feel much better, but I know I need to suck it up and move forward so that I can actually stand a chance. No one ever got anywhere from being a quitter. The only thing hurting in this scenario is my ego, but it still stings. I jump as the message jingle pops up on my screen. I grin as I see who it¡¯s from. Finally, Eric is getting back to me. I quickly open the letter, excited to be able and talk to my friend again. Usually he calls, but if he is having a busy day with school work or doesn¡¯t feel like chatting, he¡¯ll sent me a message instead. I scan the letter and then go back and reread it, just to make sure that I didn¡¯t somehow misread what he sent. I haven¡¯t. It reads:


    Hey, J. I know we were buds and all, but right now we¡¯re strictly competitors. I can¡¯t get into why that is, but I don¡¯t think we should talk anymore until all of this is done. Don¡¯t message me back, don¡¯t contact me. I need this win.


    I sink into my chair. We were friends? My heart is racing a million miles. I can¡¯t believe my best friend in the whole world is suddenly no longer talking with me. What have I done wrong? Had it been because I talked too much about the mini-game, or that maybe he is upset at the fact that I managed to gain a badge? I really am not sure, but I feel so hurt and betrayed that I decide to go ahead and send one back. I know he told me not to, but I can¡¯t help but get a few last words in.


    Fine by me, asshole. See you around.


    Hull


    I purposefully make it short and use the new nickname so I come off more condescending. Screw him, he was the one being weird. I push send and go back to my game. If this was how he wanted to be, so be it. From here on out, it was just me and I was fine with that. I¡¯ve managed to get this far and I know I¡¯ll be fine to get through the rest. It¡¯s not like either of us would be giving stuff away about what we found, even if we were talking. I had just told him about what he already knew, so I have no idea why he¡¯s being such a prick. Then I think back to his reaction earlier.


    Why had he been so quiet when I spoke about everything? Could it be possible that I played that part differently, or that maybe I had thought of something he hadn¡¯t? There is that ego again, I¡¯m going to have to be careful with that. OK, even if I had thought of something that he hadn¡¯t, that wouldn¡¯t have given him a reason to distance himself like that from me. We are almost always open with each other about everything. But this isn¡¯t just any normal event, this is special. The only thing that I can come up with is that I have managed to get this far and he sees me as a threat. I can¡¯t keep tossing around what-ifs and I¡¯ve wasted enough time stewing over it. It¡¯s completely dark outside and by some miracle, nothing has happened to my character in the last ten minutes. I double check my meters and see that they are within a healthy range.


    As soon as my character takes a step forward, it shifts over to a cut scene. In the distance, there¡¯s a soft outline of the cityscape. It pans over to the stars and then zooms in a little on their twinkling lights. The scene ends and then it¡¯s back to me and the small clearing in the woods. It dawns on me that they have been giving me some heavy-handed clues from both of these scenes. That more than likely means that I am over-analyzing everything in the first part of the game. Many games had a sort of ¡®ease you into them¡¯ mentality where the first part of it was merely a tutorial disguised as game-play. I had encountered it a few times throughout the years. I took the clue and tilted my head up to the sky to get a good look at whatever it was they were wanting me to pay attention to. They are every bit as breathtaking as I remember them as a kid. I remember the title sequence and look for the maiden¡¯s cluster in the sky. It takes me a bit, but I finally locate Cassiopeia. I frown as I notice something. It¡¯s Cassiopeia, but she isn¡¯t upside down.


    I double tap the screen to zoom in. After a few moments, a soft classical piece of music floats through as the lights grow brighter. There¡¯s a faint humming noise coming off my screen and to the right. I realize instantly where it¡¯s coming from. I open my inventory, and sure enough the bag is glowing. Of course. That unusable item must have been acquired during my run through of the mini-game. I double tap the bag and grin. It finally opens up and spills its content. It¡¯s a head, more specifically©¤ Medusa¡¯s Head. This is how I am going to be able and get to the Queen. Hell to the yes. I pull the head from my inventory and hold it out. The snakes are still moving, enough that it makes me want to drop it. They are rubbing against my arm and I can hear the loud hisses. I would rather throw it on the ground, but I manage to keep my grip on it as I hold it to the sky.


    Suddenly, there¡¯s a burst of energy from the head. Heavenly guitar riffs start in as the burst of energy solidifies in front of me. It¡¯s a path, made entirely out of stone. I get a running start and jump on the path. I¡¯m practically sailing across the narrow path and straight into the stars. They explode around me and when they clear up, my character is literally in the middle of nothing. The ground is covered in what appears to be a bunch of black primordial goop. Then, a tall woman appears in front of me. Her hair is long and blonde, her skin fair. I was actually looking at the maiden herself. She snaps her fingers and several combs fly around her head. She rises from the ground and then gazes silently down at me. The music picks back up and suddenly, it is me against her. Alright, now this is what I¡¯m talking about, no words, and no crazy long dialog©¤ just a good old fashioned brawl. A counter with the number six pops over our heads and I lean forward on the edge of my seat. Here we go.


    Light flashes around her and a mirror appears in her right hand. Medusa¡¯s head responds, glowing a bright green. Since I know that I have no other weapons and it is actually letting me play this part, it means that I am holding my only weapon. Better make it count, that¡¯s for damn sure. The Night Queen sneers at me, and then grabs one of her combs. Holding the mirror up to her face, she brushes it through her hair and then tosses it aside. The counter drops by one. This probably means that every round she is either buffing herself with something that is going to hurt, or is solidifying her defense. It didn¡¯t matter, I have the one thing that I know will defeat her. I lift up the writhing snakes. Cassiopeia yawns and then turns the mirror toward me. I was not expecting this, but I have enough sense to look away before it may have any effect on me. I grind my jaw in annoyance. This should have been a really simple battle. The Night Queen flips the mirror back toward her and plucks another comb from behind her. She brushes her hair with all the callousness of before and then throws it to the ground. We are now down to four moves. If I hold up the head, she¡¯ll do the same thing again.


    Alexa¡¯s voice rings out in my ears, ¡°Warning, you have been playing the game for nearly sixteen hours. You have five minutes before the game will automatically be shut down and your unit will be placed on lock-down until the correct amount of sleep is obtained.¡± I nearly jump out of my skin at the intrusion. Damn it, not now, my mind screams. I¡¯ve finally reached her and I¡¯m about to be logged out due to a damn technicality. This is bullshit. I need more time.


    Another, smaller timer appears in the bottom left of my screen. Great, just what I need. No fucking pressure here. Cassiopeia¡¯s long hair drops to the floor and then in a wide, sweeping motion screams toward me. I wait until the last possible second and then jump as it narrowly misses my left leg. Her hair draws back behind her as she reaches for her third comb.


    Shit.


    Shit, shit, shit.


    I¡¯m down to three minutes and three seconds, and there are three combs left. This means that I have a minute per turn. About as much time as I was getting from Alexa to get through this part anyway. I¡¯m wondering whether this is some cosmic coincidence or I¡¯m just a timing wizard when the counter above me turns red. The two glares back at me, the Night Queen¡¯s face hovering just below it. The hum starts again. I stare down at the wriggling snakes and then look at the bag. It isn¡¯t coming from either of these. There¡¯s a rumble and then a large cracking noise blasts around us. Then, it dawns on me. The bridge, the one I walked on to her is falling apart. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    My head whips around as I search frantically. There has to be something I¡¯m missing. Maybe a clue. The familiar hum from before sounds. It¡¯s just like when I first discovered the Queen¡¯s Lair. Every game is designed around nudging you in the right direction. Basically leaving little breadcrumbs behind, like, ¡®hey, over here stupid.¡¯ It¡¯s giving me everything that it can. I¡¯m just hoping I¡¯m not a complete dumbass about it.


    She again reaches for a comb, taking her time to run it from her head to the long ends of her golden hair. Her eyes rim with white, the tell-tale signs of a boss charging their ultimate ability.


    One more move and I¡¯m toast.


    My eyes travel along the length of the bridge, and then back to the sack. OK, it didn¡¯t hum when I looked at those. This has something to do with the medusa head, otherwise I wouldn¡¯t have gotten it. If I stare at this road any harder, I might go blind. All I can see are stars, thousands of them. The counter begins blinking as the seconds scream by. I see her arm move, reaching for the final comb in the reflection.


    Her reflection.


    I dive to the left and rip open the bag. Please let this be right. With a whopping three seconds to spare I aim the head at the Night Queen¡¯s reflection, careful to line it up with her face. The comb is in her hand, when she stops. There¡¯s crackling, like hundreds of tiny twigs snapping in two.


    I¡¯m scared that this is just part of her ultimate, that she¡¯s hardening herself to release the blast from hell. Instead, pieces of her begin crumbling to my feet. I dared to look up. Hairline fractures spider across her features, millions of them illuminated by a soft white. The entire area is suddenly bathed in a brilliant white light. I¡¯m beside myself, jumping and screaming when the screen dies.


    I can hardly believe my luck. I have no idea if I have to redo the whole thing again, or if it saved. I pray to every god I can think of that autosave decided to kick in at the end of the cut scene. I curse at Alexa, then realize in just a few hours, I''ll have to go to class. I hastily look up the assignment and churn out a five page paper. I might as well at least try to get my degree this go around. Especially since it was three weeks until graduation.


    #


    Morning comes whether I want it to or not. The professor drones on about turning in our papers at the end of the class. My head couldn¡¯t be further from Communication and A.I. Theory. I probably should listen, but with the end of the foreseeable future around the corner, perfect grades were the least of my worries.


    Don¡¯t be a dum-dum, Ash¡¯s voice teases. Man, I¡¯d give anything for some of her banter right now. With Eric MIA, it¡¯s going to make this even lonelier. I¡¯m at least past the point that I think this is all some hallucination my brain has cooked up. Admittedly it is strange as hell. I would love to see the look on a physicist¡¯s face when I told them where and when I¡¯m from. It gains a hearty chuckle until I think about poor Mr. Cromwell. If anyone got their hands on me, I¡¯d either be doped up on so many drugs I couldn¡¯t think straight or they¡¯d hold me in some high level security building for the rest of my life. If the rest of the guys made it, I sure as shit hope they aren¡¯t dumb enough to mention this to anyone.


    The next four hours are torture but I manage to trudge through calculus, and a throw away psychology course. I planned my degree around getting the hard courses out of the way at the middle of my college years. It was hell, but I¡¯m glad for it now. Especially considering how I need to channel everything I¡¯ve got into beating this game. This shit is ironic as hell. I can¡¯t remember how many times I was told as a kid that nothing good ever came from ¡®wasting away on those damn fantasy worlds.¡¯ I love you mom, but this time you were wrong.


    I glance over at the calendar. Finals are next week and the week after. Even if I tank all of them, I would walk away with a 3.7 gpa. Not the greatest, but not too shabby. That means that I could devote minimal time toward academics and maximize my gaming. The right side of my mouth tips up. I¡¯m becoming more like a college student by the day. I¡¯m watching the countdown as we finish up our peer reviews. I shoot mine over with a few seconds to spare, excuse myself and leave the class. I immediately get something in my inbox, which means the professor wasn¡¯t happy with my leaving early, but whatever. I did the coursework, it¡¯s fine. What was this, like my first early day in the history of ever? They can deal.


    I¡¯m even further irritated as Alexa reminds me to eat again. Didn¡¯t I just eat? I glance at the time. Oh right, that was this morning. As soon as I get up, I¡¯m reminded I¡¯m human and jet over to the restroom. So many inconveniences.


    #


    The opening screen fires up and I nearly lose my shit. It¡¯s there. Right there. The indigo lights up on my screen before returning back to its place on the double moon badge. Then, something even crazier happens. I watch with wide eyes as the green lights up as well. The innovation award. How in the hell©¤


    My head rings and I realize that someone is trying to call. I glance over at the icon and freeze. Finally, I get my head out of my ass and answer. ¡°What up?¡± I ask awkwardly. I mean, how else are you supposed to answer the phone when your best friend has said they don¡¯t want anything to do with you? Then it dawns on me, seconds before he says, ¡°How in the actual fuck did you manage to score like a pro in five hours?¡± Sure, it''s nice talking with you too, buddy, I think. I grin, despite my anger. I¡¯ve really pissed him off this time and I know where the anger is coming from. This was his turf, and I¡¯m encroaching on it.


    I click on the scoreboard and my jaw drops. OK. Not only had I managed to catch up to him with the badge colors, I am now less than two thousand points away from beating his score. I¡¯m dumbstruck, reading and then re-reading the scores. We¡¯re both silent, but finally I break it, ¡°It¡¯s not like I meant to©¤¡± ¡°Fucking destroy the one thing I had that was better than you. I need this, Hull,¡± he spats, ¡°some little rich asshole like yourself wouldn¡¯t even begin to understand that.¡± I bristle before blurting out, ¡°Oh yeah, I wouldn¡¯t understand what real life is like at all. Nevermind the fact that I lost everything in order to have that money.¡± We both fume silently.


    ¡°Just. Stay out of my way.¡± The line goes silent. So much for feeling on top of the world. My mood is sour, but eventually I flip my screen back over to the opening title. He wants a competitor, fine. Bring it. I came here alone, and I¡¯ll probably leave here alone. Then it dawns on me. What happens when I finish what I came here to do? Am I stuck in this reality, or do I disappear? I have so many unanswered questions. I can¡¯t focus on this for too long, or I know that it will eat me alive.


    I blink a few times as I stare at the opening screen. I look at the title again to make sure that I have selected the right game. This new screen©¤ it¡¯s different. The pixelated graphics have been replaced by hyper realistic ones. I¡¯m in awe at the level of detail. A breeze gently tousles my hair and just to the northwest lies a glimmering city. It¡¯s like it was made to be a part of the world, yet for all it¡¯s curves, it still stands out as man made. A single trill cuts through the breeze, bird-like yet alien at the same time. There was a reptilian quality to it. My hand hovers over the start button as I stare at what I know is going to be my next adventure. What splender or horror awaits me in this shiny new world?


    #


    I¡¯m practically panting as I reach the top of the second largest hill I¡¯ve had to climb today. I¡¯m taking the direct path, a beaten down road with no trees. If this is anything like most adventure type games, I know that straying from the path means battles. It also means supplies. I open my inventory again. I still have a decent supply of dried meats, veggies, and boiled water. If I keep at my current pace, I should be ok for a few more hours before I¡¯ll need to venture off and restock. I¡¯m exhausted, but thankful for the vantage point this hill offers. It appears I¡¯m getting somewhat closer at least. I chug a bit of the water and down some dried meat. Despite it being a game, my own mouth waters at the sight of meat. I wonder what the flavor is like. Come to think of it, I¡¯ve never even smelled it. I hold the brownish-red flesh up to my character¡¯s nose and inhale. A sweet-salty and peppery scent fills my senses and my stomach rumbles audibly. I chuckle and pause the game. Time to tend to my own needs, I guess.


    The protein bars aren¡¯t all bad. There are some that you can heat and mix with the mushroom noodles that mimicked ramen. I choose a pork flavored brick, layer the bowl with the noodles and sprinkle it on top. I fill it just halfway with water and then stick the whole thing into the microwave. I glance nervously back at my screen, anxious to press on to the next area. I¡¯m not sure how long it will take, but I need to get on a level playing field with guys like Eric. It¡¯s clear that I had done something different than him, my points reflected that. The real question is, will it be enough to get me past his score. Lunar Lander had cautioned that scores weren¡¯t everything, but it definitely can¡¯t hurt my odds, right? I get the sense that they were looking for more than what the average joe had to offer. I frown over at my setup. It¡¯s true that I have a rig that most people would dream of right now, but it wasn¡¯t going to give me any more points.


    For that, I needed brains. Which is fine if it was for book smarts. What I need is more than just beginner¡¯s luck, I need an entire life lesson in gaming. I¡¯m not a casual gamer but I¡¯m no expert. I sulk, blowing air over the burning hot noodles. There is something else that¡¯s really bugging the shit out of me©¤ how had Eric managed to get around his monitoring system? From what I know, neither of us are breakers. I slurp up a few of the noodles, and then quickly spit them back out. They¡¯re like lava. I¡¯ve definitely burned the roof of my mouth. I sigh tonguing the sore spot and drooping skin. Yep©¤ the roof of my mouth is toast. Why does everything take forever? I just want to get back to the game. I grab my bowl and set it on the little tray in front of my chair, then flick on one of the fans. I angle it toward the bowl and step up onto the chair. The warm glow of the screen shines across my bare, folded legs. I glance outside and realize the sun is starting to set. I¡¯ve gotten enough sleep that Alexa won¡¯t bother me for another six hours or so, but eventually she is going to tell me I have to go to bed. There has to be a simple solution to get around the time problem.


    Where is my damn miracle pill to surpass sleep, and why have we still not figured it out?


    I mean, I know there are probably some on the black market I could get online that would keep me awake for that long. Who knows what the hell it would do to my system though.


    It would probably get me the same effect if I took three shots of espresso and some B12. Cost way more too. They were always looking for suckers with large bank accounts. I needed to use my savings on something more beneficial©¤ and practical.


    I test one of the noodles. It¡¯s finally cooled enough to down them all. I tip the bowl up and pause mid-gulp as I stare at the tiny blinking counter on the screen. I wonder©¤


    ¡°Alexa, can you find out how much a month¡¯s worth of buying a VPN would cost?¡± There¡¯s a brief pause, ¡°A VPN trial is going to cut into your monthly stipen©¤¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware,¡± I interrupt. ¡°How much will it set me back?¡±


    ¡°You currently are in debt by four months, this will cost two months of your monthly income,¡±


    ¡°Thank you, please order a VPN from Australia.¡± I say.


    ¡°Of course, Hull.¡± It responds.


    I grin and thank Alexa. If this works, I might just order another candy bar and some chips to celebrate.