《Tales of an Exile》 Chapter One: Release Day The line was taking forEVER. The video game store in the mall was worse, I knew, but plenty of other people had the bright idea to crowd into THIS store instead, spreading the population density pretty evenly. I shuffled uncomfortably on my feet; I wasn¡¯t wearing my most comfortable shoes, since as one of those people with a bright idea, I thought the line here wouldn¡¯t be so bad. I definitely wasn¡¯t going to go home to change them, of course. The only reason anybody would endure this horrible boredom is to acquire the payoff at the end of the tunnel; the latest and greatest in video game technology, the Maximum Immersion Neurolink Device, or the MIND! Suddenly announced one year ago by King Studios, they claimed their revolutionary programming could simulate 80% of actual reality. The recently released Nintendo Sii could only boast about 40% realism, and that was currently the best the market had to offer, so of course that statement raised a commotion. The only game King Studios said they would release for the new console was a grim fantasy RPG they called ¡°Path of Exile.¡± It seems to be a reimagining of some old computer MMO from the 2010s, but the lead developer of King Studios was a well-known eccentric, as well as a superb talent. If a genius wants to release a game dated 10 years ago, he¡¯s going to release that game, and it¡¯s still going to be excellent; hence this major clusterfuck happening all over the world, since everyone wanted to play first. I sighed and pulled my smartphone out of my pocket. I had time to spare, so rather than stand here being completely bored I¡¯d rather stand here and catch up on my web novels. Three hours and fifteen web novel chapters later, I was finally third from the front of the line from hell. For the past fifteen minutes, the line started advancing more smoothly. Did the clerks finally work out some sort of system to move customers along faster? Whatever, it didn¡¯t matter so long as I got my game and could get the hell out of here. The person currently at the desk was throwing a fit, though. ¡°That¡¯s outrageous!¡± she sputtered, I instinctively rolled my eyes. Even from behind I could recognize the classic ¡°I want to see your manager¡± haircut, and this lady wasn¡¯t fighting the stereotype at all. The clerk stammered some apologies and the lady stormed off. I wonder what the fuss was about? The person in front of me stepped forward, and now I was close enough to overhear *cough* eavesdrop *cough* the conversation. ¡°Welcome to GameHaven, sir, are you here to purchase the MIND that was released today?¡± the frazzled clerk asked tiredly. God, she¡¯d been here all day, hadn¡¯t she? This was a small store, so there was only one register. I felt slightly bad for deciding to come here and increase her workload. ¡°Yeah, I am. My son wants the Standard package version,¡± the dude said. He was already pulling out his wallet. The clerk sighed. ¡°I¡¯m very sorry, sir, but our store has just run out of Standard package units.¡± Wait, what? ¡°We do still have a stock--¡° ¡°Forget it,¡± the guy rudely cut her off. ¡°I¡¯ll just get one online later.¡± He left without any further words. Geez, it¡¯s not the clerk¡¯s fault! But wait, forget him! It¡¯s my turn now! The clerk girl reapplies her business smile when I step forward. ¡°Welcome to GameHaven, are you here for the MIND?¡± I nod. ¡°I am, and I heard the talk earlier. Did you say there was another option?¡± I feel genuinely bad for her. Plus, I already came this far, so I might as well hear her out. ¡°Yes, there is! We have a stock of Advanced packages, would you like to hear about it?¡± She beams. Heh, she¡¯s rather cute when she¡¯s not being hassled. ¡°Sure, why not?¡± ¡°As you know, the Standard package from King Studios contains only the MIND and one copy of Path of Exile,¡± she said, switching to business mode. ¡°The Advanced package contains a limited-edition version of the console, one copy of Path of Exile, a custom figurine of your account character, and an account upgrade disc.¡± She pulls a figurine from beneath the counter. It¡¯s a burly man with tribal tattoos and a fierce grimacing expression, brandishing a barbaric war-axe. It¡¯s incredibly detailed. ¡°I do admit, I¡¯m interested. How much more is this Advanced package?¡± I asked. She beckoned me to lean forward so she wouldn¡¯t be overheard. I nearly spat blood -- that¡¯s freaking expensive! I mean, the Standard package was high-end already, but this --! ¡°I need a moment to think,¡± I gasped. I did have the money in my account, but spending it now would mean homecooked meals for the next eight months. The person behind me spoke up, though. ¡°Hurry it up, we¡¯re waiting here! If you¡¯re gonna take too long, go to the back of the line,¡± he growled. I paled; the line was still around the block! Screw that! ¡°I¡¯ll take the Advanced package!¡± I quickly decided. I nearly cried as I handed over my account card and tried not to think about the hard-earned numbers draining away. The clerk hurried to fetch the box from the safe in the back room, and in minutes I was riding the bus home clutching my prize tightly. This didn¡¯t really go as planned, but I apparently got a nice upgrade at least. - Back at home, pieces of packing tape and filler paper were strewn around my bedroom. I was staring blankly at the small pamphlet that was included in the box of my shiny Advanced package. In plain black text, it read -- Thank you for purchasing the Advanced Package! Included in this package: 1 Collector¡¯s Edition MIND console 1 copy of Path of Exile, the Virtual Reality to end all realities 1 proof-of-purchase receipt to order your custom character figurine (see instructions) 1 account upgrade disc To install the account upgrade disc, first install Path of Exile on your console and create your character. When the tutorial ends, log out and install the account upgrade. The next time you log in, the account changes will be automatically applied and detailed in-game. Best fortune, Exile. ¡°Why the hell would I install the upgrade without knowing what it does?!¡± I shouted at the empty apartment. My lazy cat, Luna, sent a glance my way, before curling up in the other direction to better ignore my ire. I spent a few more minutes being upset at King Studios before I decided it wasn¡¯t worth the mental effort anymore. Instead of being angry, how about focusing on something positive. Like the fact that my console was Collector¡¯s Edition! The clerk must have forgotten to mention it, which I could understand; she was under a lot of pressure. I pulled the thing from its box to see what made it so special. In the console preview images online, the MIND was a silver headset like a visor that wrapped around the eyes. It was plugged into a deceptively small silver box with two LEDs, labeled ¡°Power¡± and ¡°Connected.¡± The box only had a power button, disc reader, and plugs for power and the headset input. This one, though, what the hell were the designers thinking? This is too different!! The visor part was black with futuristic-looking red rune-shaped lights, and the connection cord was a weird dark transparent red material. The box was also black, and was shaped like an old book. The sculpted ¡°cover¡± had intricate scrollwork, and a skull shape with two inlaid LEDs in the eyes; don¡¯t tell me those are the power and connection indicators? The power cord was normal enough, but the disc reader was under the ¡°cover¡± and the power button was cleanly set into the ¡°front page.¡± ¡°Who the hell would think of turning a book into a console,¡± I muttered. ¡°But this is a really cool design¡­did they base it on the Necronomicon or something?¡± ¡°Well, whatever¡­¡± with a shake of the head, I pushed the thought away and focused on the now. That¡¯s right, who cares what it looks like? I finally get to play the first real virtual reality game! Plus a mysterious upgrade of some kind! ¡°I bet it¡¯s just extra gold or a cosmetic change, anyway,¡± I reasoned out loud. There¡¯s no way they would unbalance the game by giving only certain customers special treatment. That would just be insane for a game studio. I rushed around my moderately messy room, setting up the console. It was past dinnertime now, and I had to skip lunch to stand in that Line from Hell, but who had time to be hungry when there were video games to be played?! With everything properly plugged in, I started the game disc installation and pulled the visor over my eyes. Obviously, I couldn¡¯t see anything; the revealed information said something about the technology reading and intercepting brainwaves before they reached the spine, or something? It was definitely a step up from the old screen-based headgear of the past. After a minute of nothing happening, I was about to lift the visor to check that the console was on when a message appeared in front of me, floating in the darkness. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Installation complete. Launch Path of Exile now? Y/N ¡°Yes,¡± I said out loud. I knew the commands would be vocal, but it still felt a little embarrassing to talk to my empty apartment. I wasn¡¯t given any time to feel awkward though. As soon as I spoke, the message grew until it covered my vision and started glowing white. I had to squint my eyes shut at the intensity of it, and when the light faded, I was in what appeared to be an old stone room. There were iron chains and shackles lying around, and the only source of light was a torch flickering on the wall. I bet my face looked really silly just then; I could smell the freaking mildew and feel the dampness of the air on my skin! Technology is amazing. Another floating message popped up. Welcome, New User. Please register your account: Beneath that, there were empty boxes for my name, gamertag, email, and other such standard information. A virtual keyboard appeared at chest level, and I quickly filled out the registration. Honestly I wouldn¡¯t have cared if they asked for a blood sample and the sacrifice of a virgin, I just wanted to make my character already. Welcome, User Your account has been registered. Please proceed through the dungeon. What? I guess there¡¯s a different approach to character creation in VR than I¡¯m accustomed to from PC games. Normally one would expect a posturing avatar they could rotate and edit with sliders or selections, but apparently that would be too ¡°game-y¡± for this advanced console. ¡°So long as I can customize enough,¡± I grumbled. ¡°Who wants to play a game looking like themselves? Nobody. Or at least nobody sane.¡± Talking to myself wasn¡¯t making my character for me, so I followed instructions and walked forward. It was a weird feeling, moving my body naturally in this gloomy dungeon, even though I knew logically that I was laying motionless in my bed¡­but I tried not to think about it too hard and just focused on my surroundings. I passed through a stone archway fitted with a thick, medieval wooden door and found myself in an equally gloomy hallway. One wall was lined with cells sectioned off by iron bars as thick around as my forearm. I approached one cell out of curiosity, and was genuinely sent reeling from shock. A skinny girl slumped listlessly against the back wall, her unnaturally white hair drooping around her face, with rats scuttling around her. Her ears were slightly pointed, not to an elfin degree but certainly not human. As I peered in, she somehow snapped her head up to face me fully, and stared straight at me with fiery silver eyes. She was captured and worn down, but she wasn¡¯t broken. I managed to break her gaze, but I could feel her watching me. Was she here for ambience? Then, just to prove me wrong, a screen popped up to my right. Nameless Demihuman (Lunar Nymph) Nymphs, a fae race, are physically weaker than a majority of other sentient species, but they compensate their lack of muscle for a much larger mana pool. Choose this race? Y/N I normally don¡¯t make hasty decisions; heck, I¡¯m borderline indecisive. But the way this frail girl stared me down¡­I was captivated. The thought of having such a strong-willed entity as my avatar was enticing. I gulped down my nervousness and whispered, ¡°Yes.¡± Customize this avatar? Y/N ¡°Yes,¡± I stated more surely this time. The girl stood up from the floor and moved to the center of the cell. A panel appeared in the same place the confirmation box had been, and I nearly laughed. Looks like the devs didn¡¯t completely eliminate the customization sliders after all! I didn¡¯t change much, since she was attractive enough and surprisingly close to my height. I toned up her muscles slightly just so she wouldn¡¯t be so extremely willowy, and shortened her hair into a feisty pixie cut. She already had a moderate tan (somehow, could you tan in moonlight?) which contrasted her light hair and eyes. Her bust was already modest, and I left it alone. There would be enough perverts toppling over top-heavy without me, thanks very much. There was one slider that confused me slightly: Glow. It was turned all the way down, so I didn¡¯t know what it did. Experimentally, I pulled it all the way on. Immediately, the girl emitted a cold blue light from every inch of her; her hair, her eyes, even her skin radiated icy light. Startled, I pulled the slider back almost completely off, leaving it on just enough so that her silver eyes would glow softly. The skinny, beaten girl slumped in a corner had become a fierce, if small, adventurer. I tapped the box marked ¡°Confirm,¡± and was prompted: Name your avatar. I took a moment to ponder. Lunar Nymph, so ties to the moon, physically weak but more mana, meaning increased intelligence, now a huntress¡­My eyes widened when I realized. I had the perfect name. Wait, I¡¯d better alter it so it¡¯s not so obvious. Alright, perfect. ¡°Artymia.¡± The prompt changed to a text box with a keyboard, and I spelled out the name, and pressed ¡°Confirm¡± again. Lunar Nymph Exile You will now be transported to the tutorial. I felt a weird tingling in my hands and feet and glanced down, only to see that I¡¯d become semi-transparent. Two guards in half plate armor clomped out of the door I entered from and actually marched right through me to open the door of the cell my avatar, Artymia, was kept in! That was one of the weirdest feelings I¡¯ve ever experienced, I mused absentmindedly, as the guards roughly grabbed my delicate avatar and pulled her out of the cell and down the dungeon corridor. They were leaving my line of sight, so I tried to follow them, and was pleased that I could despite being incorporeal. I tailed them into what seemed to be a holding cell, where they unceremoniously clapped iron chains on Artymia¡¯s wrists and left her in that room with other chained prisoners. I felt a sharp tug, and my view went dark. I blinked a couple times as my vision slowly cleared, and suddenly my whole perspective was different. I was in the room with the other prisoners, and slightly shorter than I was used to; on top of that, I couldn¡¯t move my arms very well due to the tight manacles. ¡°Wait, already?!¡± I gasped. Artymia¡¯s voice was surprisingly robust, a deeper and huskier tone than mine, but I liked it. Wait, not the point! I thought there was a tutorial! No sooner had I spoken up than yet another message blinked into existence. Greetings, Exile . For the duration of this tutorial, you can take no damage, but do not rely on this function; it will not last forever. In this world, there are only three attributes: Strength, Intelligence, and Dexterity. Strength determines how much damage melee attacks deal, and directly influences your Health. Intelligence determines how much damage your magic attacks deal, and directly influences your Mana. Dexterity determines how much damage your ranged attacks deal, and directly influences your speed. Your current attributes: STR 5, INT 15, DEX 15 Talk to to continue. ¡°That''s different,¡± I stared at the panel. Only three attributes to determine everything? Even classic RPGS had six! Though, now that I took a second to think about it, these attribute descriptions covered all the basics. I shrugged, deciding that the attributes were a non-issue and that it would be more prudent to learn the rest of this game''s mechanics before complaining about them. Guess I¡¯d better find this Calvin guy then. Chapter Two: The Tutorial Continues As far as I could tell in the dimly lit holding cell, I was the only female present, which was inherently disconcerting. Nobody moved or spoke; either the floor was incredibly interesting, or conversation was forbidden. Having to find and speak to someone was a tall order, especially considering my antisocial tendencies. Nothing for it but to suck it up and ask, I guess. ¡°Um,¡± I stuttered, and immediately wished I didn¡¯t. All eyes focused on me at once, with uncanny swiftness. ¡°Eep!¡± A silly noise left me before I could catch it. What was WITH these devs and making people suddenly stare into your soul?! If this kind of thing keeps happening, I¡¯ll have a heart attack. I swear I¡¯ll sue if that happens. At least I won¡¯t have to ask these scary people one by one, now that I¡¯m the center of attention. ¡°Anyone know a Calvin?¡± I squeaked. A couple guys raised one shackled hand and pointed silently to the back corner of the holding cell. ¡°Thanks,¡± one last squeak, and a couple of them actually chuckled at me before resuming their inspection of the floor. Laughter was better than hate, but it still made me feel awkward. I scurried over to the indicated corner, trying to keep my head low. One man was leaning against the wall, appearing to not notice or mind his own iron chains. He had plenty of bright scars on his bare chest, and was only moderately muscular. Ooh-la-la,I wolf-whistled mentally, but then halted that train in its tracks. Down, girl! You¡¯re a prisoner about to be Exiled, no ogling! I sharply reprimanded myself and went to greet this Calvin person. ¡°Oh, a new face? Welcome, girly,¡± he said before I could start. ¡°Make yourself at home,¡± he scoffs. ¡°Um, what¡¯s going to happen now?¡± I half-whispered shyly. I meant it, too. There was no warning of any kind that the freaking tutorial would be this intense, and I was legitimately worried even though it wasn¡¯t my real body at risk. And there wasn¡¯t even any risk yet! Calvin eyed me with something akin to sympathy. ¡°Girly, what¡¯s going to happen now is we¡¯re all being Exiled. The Kingdom deemed us ¡®unfit for societal reform¡¯¡± here he made air quotes, making his chains rattle, ¡°so they¡¯re dumping us in Wraeclast.¡± I must have made a pretty pitiful face, because Calvin suddenly put a large hand on my shoulder - it took all my willpower not to ¡°Eep!¡± out loud again - and said, ¡°Now, you have to be strong to survive. It is possible to survive in Wraeclast, but only if you¡¯re of iron will and steel nerves. Take this, you need it more than I,¡± and he passed me a small loaf of hard bread from his pocket. ¡°Don¡¯t let the soldiers see you with that, they¡¯ll steal it and feed it to the rats.¡± Surprised, I accepted the bread automatically, and was about to start gnawing on it when another tutorial panel popped up. All players have a minimum Inventory pre-equipped. Open your bag to open the Inventory screen. We do? I examined myself, and noticed a tiny leather satchel strapped to my thigh just under the ragged hem of my tattered dress. Was that there before? Somehow I doubted it. I shrugged, and pulled open the flap of the satchel. Sure enough, a panel expanded from the mouth of the bag with ¡°Inventory¡± written at the top and twelve empty boxes in a grid. I touched the loaf to a box, and it sank into the panel and became a picture of a loaf that took up one box. Yet another text box opened once I did. Some items take up more slots than others. Be sure to manage your Inventory wisely. I barely had time to read the short message before I heard the clanking of guards approaching. Calvin¡¯s face settled into a stoic grimace, but some of the other prisoners visibly paled. With a creak, the cell door opened and the leading soldier barked, ¡°All right, you lot. Follow and be silent, and we won¡¯t have trouble.¡± One by one, all the inmates rose from their seats and shuffled out of the cell and down the corridor. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Follow the Imperial Guards. As if I was going to ignore them, I scoffed mentally, dismissing the prompt. I stood and trailed after the others, but apparently I wasn¡¯t properly submissive enough because as I passed the guard by the door, he scowled at me and smacked me in the back of the head with his elbow. I stumbled and nearly tripped, but regained my balance at the last second. I heard him ¡°tsk¡± when I didn¡¯t fall, but didn¡¯t feel like looking back to glare at him. I got the feeling it would only bring more trouble, and although I was protected from losing health during the tutorial, getting smacked still hurt! The pain was very much dulled from reality, since nobody would dare go on any kind of adventure if even weak monsters could chew you to bits and it would hurt like the real thing. I think the maximum pain threshold was 30% or something. It¡¯s still an impressive percentage; getting roasted alive might not feel like actual fire, but it sure as hell wouldn¡¯t just be warm. I had just been mindlessly following the crowd of prisoners and not paying much attention to my surroundings. It was only when thin sunlight hit my face that I blinked and noticed that we were on some sort of dock, surrounded by huge Navy ships. The one our group was headed toward was painted entirely black, and had no name on the hull. I don¡¯t know a lot about ships, but this certainly didn¡¯t seem promising. The line of prisoners was led up a steep gangplank onto the deck, then immediately down a long ladder into the dark belly of the ship. Whoever built this ship was either a sadist or a criminal, since the interior of the hold looked like a wooden version of the dungeon we just left, cells and all. We were all hustled into cells and locked in. The soldiers brusquely finished their tasks and returned to the deck, leaving all of us silent and morose in the dark. Well, most of us. From the cell across from me, I hear a quiet chuckle. ¡°You don¡¯t seem too fazed, girly.¡± Calvin! As the only other person I¡¯d spoken to so far, it was reassuring that he was at least within earshot. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, I¡¯m freaking out¡­¡± I told him honestly. I was surprised once again by my new voice. ¡°Do you know what will happen to us in Wraeclast?¡± There was a long pause. Calvin seemed to be debating something, from the little I could see of his face in the dim light. ¡°I do,¡± he eventually said, ¡°but I¡¯m not sure you¡¯d want to hear it.¡± ¡°Tell me. It¡¯s not like I can go anywhere else anyway.¡± I tried to be firm. ¡°Hahahahaha! You really are a tough one, aren¡¯t ya?¡± he laughed, loudly enough to make some other inmates flinch. I guess I convinced him. ¡°Alright, girly, here¡¯s what¡¯s about to happen. This ship is going to sail for three weeks, and the guards won¡¯t give two shits if we survive the trip or not. Wraeclast is surrounded by rough waters, and constantly storming, so it¡¯s a toss-up if we¡¯ll even make it to shore. If we don¡¯t, we drown, if we haven¡¯t died onboard already; if we do, then Gods help us. No one has ever returned from Wraeclast,¡± Calvin suddenly grew immensely serious. His words sent chills down my spine. Were games always this viscerally intense? I wasn¡¯t given any more time to ponder all this new information, because the whole ship suddenly shuddered and began to move. We were on our way now, one way or another, and I could only fervently hope that Calvin¡¯s claims were exaggerated. Chapter Three: The Upgrade I think I hate sailing. Though Calvin had said the trip should take three weeks, I closed my eyes once and slept in the gentle rocking of the waves - ha! That didn¡¯t last long - and was woken up ten seconds later by the whole fucking ship nearly flipping upside down. From what I could hear over the creaking of the weathered wooden hull and the sickening ringing in my ears, claps of thunder boomed above us every dozen seconds. This must be one of those perpetual storms Calvin mentioned, that surrounded Wraeclast and made the journey more dangerous. At least the game provided a time-skip so the tutorial could be completed in one play session, not to mention sparing players weeks of boring days in a cell on a ship. Back to the present; while I was distracting myself from my nausea, the ship continued to buck like an angry bull while sailors scrambled frantically on deck. It was hard to tell if they were trying to prevent the ship from capsizing, or if they were just desperately struggling not to fall overboard. I could hear screams and pounding footsteps, and was that a splash? Whatever they were doing, I don¡¯t think it was working. It was difficult to care, either way. All my attention was on the ceiling of my tiny cell, and the disturbing way it approached and retreated - or was that me being tossed up toward it? I might have been shrieking in fear, but I also might have been fighting back my rising bile. What can I say, it¡¯s all a bit blurry. I don¡¯t mind the gap in my memory here, and it¡¯s not important. What IS important is the cracking noise I heard, clearly different from rolls of thunder and even drowning out the raging sea, followed shortly by a sharp salty breeze. ¡°Oh, fuckin¡¯ hell!¡± I could barely hear Calvin curse in the chaos. That was certainly an eloquent way to respond to the front half of the ship breaking away from the rest, exposing us to the elements; at this point, we had front row seats to watch the storm rip the first half of our vessel to shreds. We didn¡¯t get to enjoy the show for long, as our half of the ruined ship quickly lost its remaining balance and tipped into the sea. My vision went dark, and the noise of the raging sea slowly dulled. I felt the sensation of water on my face, and instinctively held my breath for a few seconds. All the adrenaline in my system soon overrode that, and I drew in a shaky gasp, only to be startled that I could breathe normally. The sounds of the storm had faded entirely, so I was just floating in this dark and silent not-ocean waiting for something to happen. I was only a little disappointed when the next thing I saw was one of those text panels. This concludes the tutorial. If you choose to continue now, normal damage will be enabled. Alternatively, you can summon the menu by saying ¡°Menu¡± out loud to log out and access other options. Looks like all that havoc was a scripted event¡­I don¡¯t know at what point I stopped thinking of it as a game, but I took a solid five minutes to breathe deeply and try to calm down. For now, I just have to decide whether or not to continue to the main game immediately. My first impulse is to jump right in, but I know that I¡¯m already considerably stressed, and should probably take at least a short break. The forums all recommended ways to remind yourself that it¡¯s just a virtual game and not reality, but I didn¡¯t remember any reliable methods off the top of my head. On top of that, didn¡¯t that upgrade disc say to install after completing the tutorial? I was wary of it for sure, but I paid so much extra for it that I might as well get my money¡¯s worth. I owe it to my bank account! Decision made, I called out ¡°Menu,¡± and sure enough a panel just like the others appeared in front of me. The only options listed were Friend List, Settings, and Log Out¡­I suppose it¡¯s sufficient for a game that holds itself to the ¡°highest standard of virtual reality,¡± or something. I didn¡¯t pay the sparse menu any more mind, and hit ¡°Log Out.¡± The sensation of water faded from my skin, and the panel faded into darkness that was steadily lightening into gray. After a fun few seconds of staring into the formless mist, I heard a ding in my ear to signal that it was safe to remove the visor. Supposedly, it was safe to remove the visor without fully powering down in emergency situations, but it definitely seemed too reckless to forcefully interrupt an electrical signal directly to the nervous system. I might not be Safety McSafetyface, but I¡¯ll pass on being paralyzed for a few extra seconds in reality! Visor safely removed, I took a minute to just lie on my bed, soaking in the familiarity of my room. A glance at the digital clock on my nightstand told me that my whole ordeal in the tutorial only took 4 hours; not even half one of my previous intense gaming sessions. Nevertheless, I felt exhausted, and would have just gone right to sleep if my stomach hadn¡¯t loudly threatened me for skipping two meals earlier. ¡°Uuugh,¡± I moaned melodramatically, hoping Luna would take pity on me and offer consolation cuddles. She ignored my plight splendidly. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Enough fooling around. I pulled myself out of my comfy bed and shuffled over to my small kitchen to pour myself a bowl of cereal. The lazy man¡¯s dinner! Or every meal, if necessary. Still munching on a large bowlful of Cheerios, I opened the Path of Exile forums on my smartphone. I wonder what all the other players thought of that crazy tutorial? All the tutorials were single-player instances, naturally, since it would be a breach of privacy to show players to each other before they¡¯d created their avatars. Reading down the latest posts, I frowned around a spoonful of cereal. All the thread titles I was seeing said things like ¡°No stats? WTF?¡± or ¡°Creepy old man in tutorial!!¡± and even one that said ¡°I think I died in the tutorial¡± that I just had to snicker at. Nobody was bothering to post anything like a review, or even a complete retelling of their experience. I did wonder a little about the girl claiming that an NPC inmate called her ¡°girly¡± and ¡°tried to bribe her with stale bread,¡± and laughed at the thought of an oversensitive Barbie doll getting offended at good ol¡¯ Calvin. I hope he survived that shipwreck¡­he¡¯s an NPC, but this game doesn¡¯t pull any punches. I¡¯m slightly surprised that nobody had posted anything like a screenshot, or even an image of their avatar. In cases like mine, I was just swept away by the atmosphere and tension of the tutorial and completely forgot that such functions were even available, but some of the complaints on the forum didn¡¯t give that kind of vibe. Maybe the screenshot function wasn¡¯t available in the tutorial? Whatever, I¡¯ll see what other players look like once I join the main game. Putting my empty cereal bowl in the sink to wash later, I wandered back into my room. The upgrade disc was sitting innocently on top of the mess I¡¯d made of the packaging, and I gave it a long, distrustful glare. ¡°You¡¯re too mysterious,¡± I accused it. The disc had nothing to say for itself. I picked up the disc, holding it closer to my face as though the proximity would allow me to read directly into the code. Nope, just a fancy etched design with the King Studio logo, the Path of Exile title, and a subtitle confirming that it was indeed an upgrade disc. With a shrug, I replaced the original installation disc in the console with the upgrade disc, and closed the cover. The lights in the skull lit up yellow, which the manual said meant the console was reading and executing the disc. Whatever this upgrade was, it was being written into my creepy Necronomicon-console now. Since I couldn¡¯t log back in until the upgrade finished installing, I had some time to kill. Ah, well. I might as well just play a different game in the meantime. Being a long-time gamer girl meant having quite an impressive hoard of all types of games, especially the offline sort. I fetched and booted up my old copy of Monster Hunter Gen, and settled onto my couch for a few quests. - Seven quests, two new pieces of equipment, and several straight minutes of playing with my in-game pet Moofy, I finally remembered that I was waiting for the upgrade installation to finish. Sure enough, when I raced to my room to check, the lights on the console had turned off. Shit, I got too into Monster Hunter and spent six hours in a different game¡­I¡¯m not sure why I felt guilty, but I hurriedly saved my Monster Hunter game and turned it off. Hm, it¡¯s about two in the morning now¡­I think I¡¯ll sleep before re-entering Path of Exile, so I can properly experience the game and the upgrade. I pulled the upgrade disc from my console and slid it back into its clear plastic sleeve -- was the underside always that dark? I do have the lights off in here, and it¡¯s been a while since my last real gaming session, so it might just be my tired eyes playing tricks on me. Unconcerned, I set the disc back on the empty console box and flopped onto my fluffy mattress. Tomorrow I have a day off from work because my boss is also a huge gamer; he scheduled me, himself, and two of my other gamer co-workers time off so I can sleep in and still have all day to play. I thought I would have trouble getting to sleep from excitement to play, but I drifted off almost immediately. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hi there, Author here! I''m not used to leaving Author''s Notes so I''ll try to be concise. First of all, thank you so much for reading this!! I''m pretty shy about sharing my work, so the fact that people have seen this is really amazing. This chapter fought back while I was writing it, which is why editing it into something presentable took so long. On that note, please leave a comment if you catch an error or have a suggestion! I''m always looking for constructive criticism. Thanks again for reading, and I hope you enjoy! -Anya Lee (aka Doodlehero) Chapter Four: Confusion I¡¯m not a morning person at all. It usually takes two alarms, a large cup of coffee or two, and a shower before I¡¯m ready to function like a human being, but today the anticipation of seeing this upgrade had me out of bed and eating breakfast before I could register my alarm going off the first time. I left my bacon and eggs on the stove while I fetched my phone off its charger and dismissed both alarms. The battery decreased by 1% in protest, but I ignored it. I scarfed down my simple breakfast in record time, gulped down both cups of fresh coffee, and skipped back to my room to boot up my MIND while nursing my burned tongue. It took ages for the console to wake up, and I had the visor on my head as soon as the LEDs turned green. The darkness consumed my vision, and the boot-up prompt floated in the void. Welcome back, User . Launch Path of Exile now? ¡°Yes, launch!¡± I called enthusiastically. ¡°Enough of the suspense!¡± The system didn¡¯t retort, simply zooming my vision into the floating text until my entire field of view was glowing white. It might have been my imagination, but I thought the transition took less time than before, as though the system could sense my impatience. Well, it doesn¡¯t matter. Abruptly, my whole body was hit with a wave of freezing water, as if I¡¯d had a hose turned on me in an industrial freezer. My vision too, wasn¡¯t fading into any scene unlike last time, and instead was splitting into thousands of bubbles that tickled my face. The air I was so casually breathing instantly liquefied and started to flood my lungs until I remembered to close my mouth. Ah fuck, I was underwater last time, wasn¡¯t I! I had to reach the surface, NOW! I thrashed desperately, overcome with panic at the thought of drowning within the first minute of the real game. Luckily, I wasn¡¯t a half-bad swimmer even in real life, and was able to claw my way up to my first in-game breath of air. Overhead, the storm was still raging in full force, throwing bits of ship and unfortunate corpses against jagged rocks and pelting them with icy rain and forks of lightning. The rough tide still threatened to drag me under, but a piece of the ship passed within my reach and I clung to it like a koala. Luckily, the ship was wrecked close enough to shore that the waves were all rushing in the direction of higher ground, so all I had to do was keep my head above water and let nature push me to relative safety. After a short eternity of splashing, cursing, and spitting out disgusting seawater, I finally, finally felt sand under my bare feet. I was completely worn out from fighting the forces of nature, so crawling out of the water was an exhausting chore. The weather didn¡¯t improve at all, and dawn showed no signs of approaching, but the solid, sandy beach was such an improvement over floating in open water that I collapsed face-down on the spot. With a ¡°ding!¡± a message panel popped up, tilted so I could read it without having to raise my head. Your account has been upgraded. Please enjoy the enhanced experience. Enhanced experience? Like, the experience points gained from killing enemies to level up? If that was the case, the upgrade was a total cheat. More likely, the upgrade just changed some settings to make the game a little more realistic. On that note, please turn down the physical exhaustion! I just woke up, but I¡¯m ready to take a nap. The shoreline of a hostile environment during a stormy night is absolutely the worst place to sleep though, so with a complaining grumble I pushed myself into a sitting position. Huh, the moon was really bright in-game, even in spite of the dense stormclouds. The moonlight was bright enough to illuminate the whole beach with a silvery-blue glow, clearly exposing all the sharp rocks I narrowly avoided, the sad remnants of the unnamed prison ship, some miraculously unscathed cargo, and more bodies than I cared to count. The vast majority of these bodies lay deathly still, but some still groaned and tried to move pitifully. One of the bodies, the one laying only a few meters from me, had some familiar scars on his bare chest¡­Calvin! ¡°Calvin! Are you hurt?!¡± I forgot my own tiredness in my worry. It was a stupid question to ask, considering the blood pooling on the sand beneath him from a gaping hole in his side, but he was the only person I¡¯d conversed with in this place. ¡°Hang in there!¡± ¡°Ah, girly¡­¡± Calvin coughed weakly. ¡°So you were safe, that¡¯s good¡­I knew you were a tough one.¡± More coughing, this time colored with blood. ¡°Why the hell would you worry about me?! Look at yourself!¡± I retorted instinctively, ¡°I have to find some bandages or something!¡± Calvin caught my wrist before I could move. ¡°Girly,¡± he rasped, ¡°I¡¯m not long for this world¡­¡± More painful hacking as he struggled to get the words out. ¡°Listen to me. No matter what, don¡¯t stop moving. If there are others--¡° he cuts off for another bout of coughing. ¡°Calvin, stop! Whatever you want to say can wait until you¡¯re patched up!¡± ¡°No!¡± he barked with sudden force, then collapsed with a wheeze. ¡°Listen! If there are other survivors, from different ships, they--they¡¯ll probably have set up a base. You comb this beach until you find them, girly. You¡¯re tough, I know you can make it here.¡± His coughs were growing more infrequent, but that was only because his breathing was becoming shallower by the second. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll look! So you have to get patched up!¡± I desperately agreed. How could I not? ¡°Good¡­luck be with ye, girly. Live strong¡­¡± Calvin¡¯s voice, once so strong and gruff, was nothing more than a gentle whisper. I thought he muttered something like ¡°Amelie¡± after that, but I might have been wrong¡­and his breathing stopped. ¡°Oh fuck, no!¡± I screamed! ¡°How the hell do I do CPR! Calvin!¡± I clutched ineffectively at his shoulders. They were already growing cold. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be the Tutorial NPC, right?! You have to lead me to the safe area, right?!¡± I shouted at him, as though more decibels of noise would wake him up. ¡°FUCK!¡± The intense combination of the stormy sea and emotional shock made my stomach churn, and I leaned to the side to dry heave. He was only an NPC; hell, I¡¯d only spoken with him three times over the course of six hours, but he was the first person I met here. He was a person, and he¡¯d just died in my arms. Already his face was getting blurry¡­though that might have been tears. I sat back onto my heels. It was obviously too late for me to help him, but it felt wrong to just immediately move along despite his final request. ¡°Fuck,¡± I whispered to myself, ¡°Get a grip. He said you were tough, so man up, girl¡­¡± It took me another minute to collect myself and climb to my feet. Spitting out a sigh, I decided that it definitely would be best for my mentality to move on, literally. Just as I was about to step away, though, I heard something odd. It was like a quiet sputtering, sort of in-between a growl and a gargle. I tried to sharpen my hearing, and unconsciously turned back to face Calvin¡¯s body. The sputtering snarl gained in intensity. Did his hand just twitch? While I was staring in a daze, Calvin¡¯s body, gaping wound and all, jerkily sat upright and stood up. He--no, it--spun around to face me with blank eyes and bared teeth, and suddenly lunged at me with scraggly nails outstretched! ¡°SHIT!¡± I squealed, throwing myself backward and off-balance, landing on my ass. The nails flew through the space where my face was not two seconds ago, and I scooted away as quickly as I could without letting the monster out of my sight. ¡°Not fucking cool!¡± I complained an octave higher than normal. I tried to regain my footing so I could run away, but the instant I was upright the monster repeated its lunge and I ended up back on the ground. I was running out of space to retreat--the beach was crowded with debris and driftwood, and I soon found myself backed against a pile of sturdy crates. The monster steadily approached, gurgling sickeningly, dark blood oozing down its face. I freaked out, desperately looking for anything that could count as a weapon. There were a couple pieces of driftwood nearby that were of a decent size, but they looked fragile and soft. Then, I noticed a stick of some sort leaning against the back of a crate, that seemed to be glowing slightly. Out of options, I scrambled behind the crate and grabbed the stick. It was a curvy shortbow, apparently also crafted out of driftwood, but it felt solid in my hands so I didn¡¯t think too hard about its durability. There was a problem, though. A few, in fact. For one thing, I was holding a bow to face off against a monster¡­and I didn¡¯t see any arrows. To make things worse, I had no idea how to use a bow effectively. ¡°A curvy stick is still a stick, and sticks are for whacking,¡± I scowled. There was no rule that said there was only one way to use a weapon. The creature advanced again, not deterred in the slightest by my new weapon. I felt much more confident now that I wasn¡¯t empty-handed, but there was no way I was confident enough to just run up and hit it. I¡¯m not a thug! I lived too nice a life to know how to hurt people. The monster didn¡¯t care about my hesitation; in fact, it probably appreciated the easy approach. I had no time to debate with my morals. Either I swung to kill, or my gaming session would be very short. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°Guh, dammit!¡± I yelled, and swung the bow like a baseball bat at the monster¡¯s head! It whiffed past, missing by a good three inches. Did I mention that I¡¯ve never fought a person in my life? I almost cried with frustration when my attack didn¡¯t faze the monster in the slightest. It just rattled at me and stretched out its nasty nails again, reminding me to keep backing away. At least now I was behind the small barrier of washed-up crates, and the monster had no idea how to overcome this obstacle. I was finally allowed some breathing room to think about the situation and watch the gruesome corpse shuffle ineffectively into the crates. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed another glow similar to the one coming off of the bow. To my left, poking out of a different crate, a raggedy leather quiver stained with seawater glimmered at me. With cautious hope, I picked it up, and sure enough there were about ten unbroken arrows inside it, after I shook out the shattered pieces of the more unlucky ones. Ten arrows was ten more than I had before, so I just shrugged the quiver over my shoulder and pulled one out. I must admit, I felt really cool with a bow in one hand and a sharp arrow in the other, facing off against a monster that didn¡¯t know how to circumnavigate a box. Okay, maybe not that cool. ¡°Okay, lesson one in self-taught archery, starting now,¡± I instructed myself. Maybe I would pick up this skill faster if I took a teacher-like tone? Probably not, but there was nobody around to teach me, so I might as well. I¡¯m a lefty, so it probably wouldn¡¯t help much to think of archers in movies as examples, either. ¡°Put stick on string, pull string, let go of stick,¡± I mumbled, following my own orders and gripping the arrow by the feathers -- they¡¯re called fletching, right?-- and balancing the other end on the heel of the hand holding the bow. I pulled the string and arrow back together, tried to point the business end at the zombie, and let go! The arrow magnificently flew half a meter and dropped to the sand. ¡°Shit.¡± I reached for the arrow right as the monster figured out how to bend its knees, or at least fall over the obstacle in its path. ¡°What a persistent bastard.¡± I had to abandon the treacherous arrow now that the monster could freely approach again, and we resumed our game of horrifying tag around the flotsam covering the beach. For several minutes, the scene kept replaying; me backpedaling, the monster following, the surf pounding the shore while the storm crackled and thrummed overhead. I was starting to feel the chill settle into my bones, and the zombie was tirelessly shuffling in my wake. If I didn¡¯t end this soon, I would slow down too much to continue evading. My fear of the monster began to fade, and was replaced with indignation. Who the hell did this shambling corpse think it was, raising poor Calvin from his death and not leaving me alone? It just kept up that annoying shuffling, kicking wet sand everywhere and constantly sputtering that wet growl! I got angrier and angrier at the sheer absurdity of this. I should have been travelling up the beach like Calvin told me to, joining the rest of the players and exploring the first safe town, but this stupid zombie just couldn¡¯t take a break! It was high time this irritating monster learned to take ¡°no¡± for an answer. Just as I was about to charge the zombie head-on in a reckless bid for victory, the heavens above agreed with my sentiment and tossed out a lightning bolt that struck the wooden cargo boxes not ten meters away. The CRASH of the impact was temporarily deafening and blinding, but both effects quickly faded, exposing the sight of a large pile of wooden scrap burning to cinders on the stormy beach. The zombie, too, had recovered whatever senses it may have had, and was standing still for once, not turning its gaunt face away from the flickering blaze. ¡°You¡¯re kidding. That¡¯s too convenient!¡± I thought out loud. Setting aside the incredibly lucky lightning strike, the undead retained their classic weakness to heat here? Without any further hesitation, I rushed over to the fire and tried to grab a half-burned driftwood stick. It crumbled to hot ash the second I touched it, though. ¡°No way, it can¡¯t be that unreasonable,¡± I retorted at the scattering pile of dust, ¡°Why would fire be an environment effect if you can¡¯t utilize it?¡± I reached for another stick, and it pulled the same stunt as the other. The zombie was growling again, but it kept a safe distance from the fire. Apparently, I had a safe zone within the fire¡¯s radius, but already the heavy rain was working on extinguishing the flames. I couldn¡¯t grab a burning branch, the zombie wouldn¡¯t approach the fire, and said fire was rapidly fading in the weather. What the hell was I supposed to do, then?! I couldn¡¯t even shoot an arrow properly¡­ A crazy idea occurred to me. I likely wouldn¡¯t be able to pull it off; hell, even if it did work like I envisioned it, I had just proven to myself that archery is a lot more difficult than it looks in the movies. But it was the best, if only, course of action I could take right now. I pulled another arrow from my quiver, and held the head of it in the fire. Instantly, the stone tip and wooden shaft caught the flame, and burned unreasonably brightly. The fire didn¡¯t seem to be consuming the arrow, either, thanks to game logic, but I only spared a quick mental ¡°thanks¡± to the developers before trying once more to turn this stupid zombie back into a corpse. The first flaming arrow fared just as well as my first attempt, burying itself a meter away. I was able to pick it back up, and since the head didn¡¯t even look smoky, I lit it on fire again and made another attempt. The second try did a little better, probably because I fired while holding my body parallel to the bow, but it still struck the beach a step in front of the zombie. It slowly glanced at the arrow, then back up to me, and growled out a mocking laugh. At least, that¡¯s what it sounded like to me. I¡¯m sure my face was twisted into a magnificent scowl as I pulled my third arrow from my quiver, lit it, and tried to aim. I mostly guessed where the thing was pointed by listening for the zombie¡¯s undead chatter, since the fire on the arrowhead blocked my view. The arrow was loosed, and drew a flaming arc in the dark sky, and hit the stupid zombie in the shoulder! Immediately, the monster¡¯s whole torso caught fire, and it screamed a raspy howl as its flesh charred and crumbled into ash. After ten seconds, nothing remained of the monster¡¯s upper half except some exposed and blackened ribs. The hips and legs fell over with a wet thud, and didn¡¯t even twitch. For a few endless seconds, I didn¡¯t dare move, just in case it was a bluff, but the waves continued to crash and the sky continued to rumble and the remnants of the corpse were as still as death. For the first time, I noticed that I was shaking all over, and my grip on my bow had tightened to a painful degree. The fire behind me was washed away by the rain, and all I could do was collapse to my knees in the bloody sand. ¡°I did it¡­¡± I whispered hoarsely. ¡°I did it!¡± I cheered for myself, adrenaline and triumph making my tired voice crack. Laughing hollowly, I started to try to pull myself to my feet to move on, but my legs wouldn¡¯t move. In addition, the unburnt crate I was reaching toward for support started to blur out of focus, swimming in my vision. Groping blindly, I managed to find it, and the moment my hand met the solid surface, I entrusted my entire weight to the splintery box as I broke down into wild sobs. My guide, my first and only friend, had just died not ten minutes ago, then his corpse tried to kill me. My sobs morphed and mixed with half-crazed giggles. It was just so ridiculous, so surreal, it was so incredibly absurd that it became impossibly funny. I laughed and cried for god knows how long, expelling my pent-up emotions and stress as I clung to the crate that had become my lifeline. Eventually my mad outburst exhausted itself, and I just sat there in a silent daze. I still hadn¡¯t left the area I washed up in, and the corpses of the sailors that I had been ignoring in my panic suddenly looked a lot more suspicious. I knew, logically, it was beyond foolish to stay here in this dangerous place, but my legs still stubbornly refused to move. ¡°Maybe just a five-minute break,¡± I mumbled, slumping against the crate. I didn¡¯t sleep, because the game system prevented rest in unsecure areas, but my mind went foggy and I entered a kind of trance while the storm continued to punish the sea, finally relaxing my frazzled mind. Everything that had happened so far was just too much to take in at once, and if I didn¡¯t take some time to sort out how I felt about all these events now then I would completely snap. Yeah, the smart option is to relax right now. My eyelids drifted half shut, and I took my time weighing the situation and getting some much-needed rest. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Author here! Sorry this chapter was a day late, a lot was happening over the weekend and I tried to make this chapter a bit longer than the others. I thought the second half of this chapter would fit with the first, but now that I''m thinking it over it would make for a great Chapter Five on its own. Please let me know your impressions and thoughts! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy! -Anya Lee (aka Doodlehero) Chapter Five: Making a Killing Whiff, thump, screech! The arrow pierced the scuttling Spitter crab, drawing a shriek of pain from the wounded beast. In retaliation, it raised its tubular scorpion-style tail and thwap, shot a clump of condensed sand at me. I yanked my head to the side, but the projectile still caught me in the arm, knocking me slightly back and making my whole left arm sting and go slightly numb. With a growl of pain, I circled the crab to escape its range. I didn¡¯t bother trying to fire another arrow, because of my numb arm. Because of the way its thin legs were arranged, the Spitter crab could only turn very slowly. It hissed crabbily in frustration as it lost sight of me, and I took the opportunity to spring forward and grab hold of the arrow that still stuck out of its carapace. I yanked the arrow out but instead of reusing it the traditional way, I just punched it straight back in. It hadn¡¯t occurred to me until recently that my character¡¯s Strength stat was only 5, but even that pathetic number was enough to impale the large crustacean. It spasmed only once more before its legs went limp, and I faintly heard something that sounded like water being poured from one container to another. I had been expecting it, because I figured out that it was the sound of my experience bar filling up. Even after five hours of hunting my way up this stormy beach, the ¡°second container¡± didn¡¯t sound even half full, making a mockery of the trail of zombie and Spitter corpses I left in my wake. ¡°At least I can hit the bastards now,¡± I shrugged while I recollected my arrow. Good, it hadn¡¯t broken. I only had a grand total of six left because the heads kept snapping off on the Spitter¡¯s hard natural armor, and I even managed to trample one all on my own much to my shame. Lately though, I had been improving my aim and was able to hit softer parts fairly reliably so my arrows would survive the encounter. None of the monsters so far had dropped any loot at all, so my only real gain from these battles was combat experience, but that was an area I was sorely lacking in so I jumped at the opportunity to improve. It was irritating that I still hadn¡¯t run into anything or anyone that wasn¡¯t trying to kill me¡­I moodily adjusted the strap of my quiver where it was cutting into my shoulder, and tried not to feel lonely. ¡°I would even appreciate a pet,¡± I complained. ¡°Come on, game devs. Solo play right after the tutorial is just harsh.¡± Nothing happened, as expected. With a defeated sigh, I left the fresh carcass of the ugly Spitter crab behind and kept moving up the beach. As I passed yet more waterlogged crates and ship pieces, I thought I heard something whistling, but over the noise of the unrelenting storm I couldn¡¯t be sure. I was definitely sure when an arrow pierced my side. ¡°Aguh!¡± I half-screamed, half-choked. Even at 30% of realism, a burning pain lanced through my whole torso! I managed to stay upright purely because a pile of crates was closeby to lean on, as my hidden attackers revealed themselves. Humans. Was this a cruel joke, for wishing for companionship? They were all outfitted with mismatched leather armor and rusty shortswords, and approached as a group of about four. One of them had a crude bow just like mine, instead of a sword, so he was clearly the one responsible for the arrow in my gut. I gripped the offending ammo with one hand, and tried not to flinch when even that small movement sent another wave of pain up my side. It was foolish, but I closed my eyes as though not seeing the wound would make it hurt less; and pulled! ¡°RrraaAAAGH!¡± I yelled in pain and anger, and opened my teary eyes as quickly as I could. The attackers had all stopped and looked surprised at my outburst, but they were rapidly recovering. ¡°Fuck,¡± I gasped, trying to ignore the throb in my side. I struggled to raise my bow and draw back, using the bloody arrow still clutched in my other hand. Somehow, I aimed at the enemy archer and released his own arrow back at him, though the pain was making the world go fuzzy and monochrome. My returning shot nailed him in the neck out of sheer luck, and he dropped like a sack of bricks. With the ranged enemy out of the fight, I could afford to retreat a bit and try to recover even a little bit¡­though how I¡¯d do that without bandages or something, I¡¯d have to improvise. For the moment, the most pressing issue was the hot blood I felt soaking into my dress-like rags. I hastily tore a seam up my hip and ripped off about half of the skirt. It now only covered the necessary parts with about three inches to spare, and I had long ago come to terms with the fact that it was all I had on, but right now the need to staunch this bleeding took precedence over my modesty. The bandaging proceeded quickly once I had a length of material, punctuated by my sharp gasps of pain as I jostled and pressed the wound. ¡°If I hadn¡¯t shot him already, I¡¯d kick that bastard in the crotch,¡± I swore, amidst a stream of much more *cough* creative language. The burning pulses had dulled to a steady throb, but it would lance with fire again if I twisted around too hard or raised my left arm too high. Suddenly, there was a thunk on the other side of the crate I was crouching behind. I cautiously peeked over the box, and nearly got an arrow between my eyes for it. ¡°Crap, he¡¯s still alive?!¡± Yep, there he was, the bastard archer guy, standing only a few meters from where I shot him down and completely alive. Even the arrow had vanished from his throat, which was really irritating. There¡¯s no way I¡¯d be able to hit him there again if I tried! Don¡¯t waste my good luck! A bright glint distracted me, and I spotted one of his sword-toting buddies fumbling with a glass vial of some sort, trying to push it back into a little holster on his belt. I couldn¡¯t see what was in it, but I¡¯m no moron. I put two and two together, and deduced that archer-guy was revived by sword-guy A using that vial. Now I had even more reason to fight these punks; I wanted that vial! All of them were still about ten meters away, in a sloppy half-circle facing inland. There was a pile of crates separating us, and tall jagged cliffs standing behind me. I gripped my bow, and pulled an arrow from my quiver. I had a pretty advantageous position here, so all I needed to do was capitalize. As before, I targeted the archer first, since he was the greatest threat of the four. Luck was still on my side, since my arrow struck him in the forehead and he fell backward like the world¡¯s ugliest unicorn. ¡°Payback!¡± I cheered briefly, returning my attention to the sword-guys. One tried to pull something from his belt, I assume one of those vials, so I shot him in the chest. He took it with only a stagger backwards, then abandoned his buddy in favor of raising his sword. He was too far away to reach me, so I just shot him again and he went down without much fuss. Now the problem was the other two. Both ignored their fallen comrades, and ran sluggishly over the wet sand. In the time it took me to fire three shots, they had reached the base of my impromptu fortress, forcing me to retreat and kite them in a circle. They followed stupidly, not even bothering to put space between themselves. It was way more difficult to try and shoot them while moving, especially with my wound complaining with every step, so I resorted to a sort of hit-and-run tactic. I would use my mildly superior speed to build up some distance, then stop and shoot at them and start running again before they could catch up. My aim was much less steady now, so each of them took three arrows to knock down, not counting the arrows that missed entirely that I had to circle around to pick back up. Finally, all four of them laid motionless in the sand. ¡­For about thirty seconds. One by one, they rose again as undead, but by now this was much more standard fare for me. I dispatched the zombies smoothly, sometimes having to resort to clubbing them due to lack of ammunition, but soon enough they were all laid waste. At last, I could get around to looting! One of the sword-guys and the archer both had little golden sparkly points on them at various points, indicating a looting point. I reached the sword-guy first, and a little panel popped up over his body. It was a grid like my inventory, but with only four squares. Occupying two squares each were two test-tube-like glass vial with a silver stopper, one filled with an opaque red liquid and the other with opaque blue. I touched the vials, and they popped into existence in my hand with a cheerful ¡°Ding!¡± You have found a Potion Vial. Your belt is automatically fitted with five Vial Slots, where you can store various Vials for easy access during battle. Vials come in several varieties, including Health, Mana, and Effect. Health potions (red) boost your natural health regeneration speed, and may also immediately restore some health per dose. Mana potions (blue) boost your natural mana regeneration speed, and may also immediately restore some mana per dose. Effect potions (green) can have a variety of uses, including speed bonuses, haggling boosts, and defense buffs. Vials come in several sizes, with a minimum of 3 doses per vial. Vials in your belt will automatically refill as you kill enemies. ¡°Holy crap,¡± I muttered as I finished reading the pop-up. ¡°This must be why it¡¯s okay for the battle system to be so tough. That¡¯s way too convenient¡­¡± I looked down, and sure enough I was fitted with a broad leather belt similar to the ones the sword-guys were wearing. On the right hip were five straps, obviously meant to hold vials. I slid the two vials I held into the straps at the front, and tried to remember if I was wearing a belt before. I was sure I wasn¡¯t, but since it came with such a handy feature like vial slots, I wouldn¡¯t complain about it. Then, I heard the experience water-pouring, but this time it just flooded in! Before I knew it, I heard another cheery ¡°Ding!¡± and another information panel appeared. Excited, I read: You have reached Level 2. All stats increase by 5. The option in your menu is now unlocked. Be warned, opening the menu will not pause the game. Enemies and hazards are still active while the menu is open. The can also be accessed quickly by extending two fingers of your dominant hand and slashing downwards. To quickly close the , extend two fingers of your dominant hand and slash upwards. For a beat, I couldn¡¯t even register the words. ¡°You mean¡­it was all actually worth it?!¡± I cried, ecstatic. Skill Trees! Stat increases! It almost made me believe that things would get easier from here on. Eager to improve, I tried the quick access option, pointing with my left index and middle finger and pulling down. Sure enough, a complicated circular chart followed my fingers down. However, the thing was ENORMOUS! It had a diameter of a full two meters, standing taller than I did which was surprisingly annoying. It was covered with tiny dots and diamonds all linked with silver chains, and at the center was a coin-sized space with my stats listed, with three smaller dots of red, blue, and green surrounding it. Suddenly paranoid, I slashed up with my left hand to close the Skill Tree and make sure no enemies were approaching, but the beach was empty. I reopened the Skill Tree and began examining the complex layout, prompting another series of panels to appear with explanations. To paraphrase, the three colored dots were ¡°Attribute Paths¡± I could choose to follow. With every level up, I would gain one Skill Point to spend on the Skill Tree, and there were multiple paths to follow throughout the whole thing. Obviously, you couldn¡¯t purchase a slot that was unconnected to a slot you already had. Some things I could earn were actual abilities such as Stealth or Evasion, while others were plain stat increases. With my single level up just now, I had one Skill Point, and eventually decided to pick a point off the green path, which seemed to be Dexterity-related skills and bonuses. The first available slot was a simple +5 to my Dexterity stat, but it effectively doubled my gain from my level up and made me faster and more accurate, which I deemed the priority. I mean, magic sounded awesome and I even had a racial bonus to it, but I didn¡¯t have any spells yet so it would have been a meaningless choice. Skill Point spent, I closed the Skill Tree, satisfied. I couldn¡¯t tell exactly what difference my new +10 Dexterity made just yet, but I figured the change would become evident with time. For now, I still had to loot some extra arrows off the dead archer-guy, and I¡¯d really like to take a rest by these crates and recover a bit from my recent battles. My side still really hurt¡­ - After another hour of wandering and killing Spitter crabs and the occasional group of zombies, something new appeared on the weather-beaten beach. It was hard to see because of the distance, but there were a few lanterns and campfires around it which helped visibility. From what I could tell, it was the ruins of a fort or something. Maybe in the past, this place was a defense point? It clearly wasn¡¯t anymore. The tallest remaining walls were only a meter and a half tall, and the packed sand was littered with stone brick fragments. Thanks to the weak lights I was able to percieve some moving shadows, were they human-shaped? Even if they were, I don¡¯t think this is the refuge Calvin told me to search for. The whole place just gave off an unfriendly feeling, and wasn¡¯t even defended against the rain, let alone enemies. Well, if this wasn¡¯t the place I had to find, I might as well just pass through and keep looking, right? The flickering lights were making me nervous, though. I suppose that a stealthy approach never hurt¡­So, like a ninny, I darted from cover to cover, keeping my head as low as I could and using boulders, crates, and outlying walls to keep myself hidden. I felt ridiculous, but in a choice between my pride and an arrow through the side again, I would stealth-run all day, everyday. Getting shot freaking HURTS! As I got closer to the ruins, I started hearing snippets of conversations. Most of the words were washed away by the storm, but I was able to pick up such phrases as ¡°new blood today,¡± ¡°hopefully a woman,¡± and ¡°easy kill.¡± None of these phrases convinced me that these people were friendly. If I had to label them loosely as a group, I¡¯d call them bandits. They sounded just like the stereotypical ruffians from manga, does anybody actually talk like that for real? Meh, pointless thought. If they attacked me, I¡¯d just attack back. Soon enough, I had stealth-run right behind a wall directly behind a bandit, facing a group of about three total. I did think that I could manage to take them all down, but I didn¡¯t know how many bandits were camping in these ruins, so I wanted to avoid detection for as long as possible. Barely peering over the wall, I nocked one of my new arrows and drew it back. For the sake of staying low, I tried to hold the bow sideways like a crossbow, but the draw was seriously weakened by the awkward position. I didn¡¯t right it though, since the target was only two meters away. I aimed as best I could, then fired! The arrow sprouted from a bandit¡¯s collarbone, and he instantly collapsed. The other bandits panicked, one of them reaching for the vial on his belt, so I aimed at him next. The arrow whizzed past him, but it startled him enough that he was distracted from his fallen buddy and looked in my direction. Crap, so much for staying low. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The battle was over fairly quickly, since these bandits were much the same as the ambush group I dealt with, though they didn¡¯t have an archer. Since they had so kindly left their tiny campfire unattended, I looted them quickly and poked one of my arrows into the fire and used it like a torch to burn their bodies before they could rise again. Cremation done, I stabbed the arrow into the beach to extinguish it, and returned the arrow to my quiver. This had been one of the easiest battles by far; was I improved in some way other than my stats? It was impossible to tell, and it wasn¡¯t really worth expending time and thought on, so I just shrugged it off and was grateful for the boost. I made my way through the rest of the ruins like this, approaching groups of bandits unnoticed, then finishing my little ambush off by looting and burning the bodies. I did feel a little queasy about my own actions; the game was so real, I felt like an actual murderer when they tried to help their friends I had killed. But they¡¯re just lines of code, I reminded myself every time. They¡¯re programs, they were created to be enemies, and enemies must be beaten. Literally, it was kill or be killed. This wasn¡¯t such a nice game to offer a pacifist option, after all. After only half an hour of bandit-hunting, I stopped seeing their shadows moving. Did I really clear them all out? Just as I was feeling slightly proud of myself, I heard, or rather felt, something¡¯s footsteps. Something big. Thud¡­thud¡­thud. The earth-shaking footsteps continued somewhere nearby, but didn¡¯t seem to be getting closer. Recovering from my mild panic, I dared to sneak forward through the ruins, curious and fearful in equal measure. Honestly, with something hanging around whose footsteps could resonate through my bones, I¡¯d rather find it before it found me. And holy crap, find it I certainly did. Stomping around a little distance from the last ruined stone wall, a literal giant of a man dragged around a club more than double my size. He towered over me by at least two full meters, packed with grotesque muscle and matted with blood and sand. I was so focused on this person, it took me a moment to realize what was behind him. Just past the giant guy was a shabby wooden palisade. Faint light glowed over the top and between the cracks, and this area also appeared to be the edge of the storm, so I could just barely hear muted chatter over the receding weather. That must be the survivor¡¯s camp! I was thrilled, until I realized¡­that was the survivor¡¯s camp, past the walking mountain. What¡¯s more, this area of the coast was walled in on both sides by sheer cliffs and completely slick with rain. Swimming was out of the question, so the only path forward was through the giant. I stared at him, trying to gauge his capabilities, when I spotted something weird. Just above the giant¡¯s tiny head, a small yellow name floated: or something. Was that his name? He was obviously out of the previous enemies¡¯ league, so did having a name make him a boss? At least, I assumed he was an enemy. The ugly scowl on his equally ugly face was plenty unfriendly, and I could smell him from way back here. Well, nothing for it but to go in bows blazing, I guess. With a deep breath to psyche myself up, I stood from behind my shelter and fired two arrows one after the other, aiming directly for his head. With one smooth motion, he deftly swung his enormous club and swiped both arrows right out of the air! The hell, aren¡¯t big enemies supposed to be slow?! I had no time to gawp, he was already heading this way! I darted to the left when he started to raise his club, but he just adjusted his grip a little and the weapon -- I swear he must have just uprooted a whole tree -- caught me dead in the back. The force of the blow sent me literally flying, careening through the air until I tumbled over and over myself on the sand. I couldn¡¯t move for a whole two seconds, just laying there and suffering the pain. On sudden instinct, I summoned all my strength into my arms and pushed myself over onto my back, so I could see that horrible club whistling down to strike the sand where I had lain a moment ago. Fighting back the cold chills at my near-miss, I fumbled for the vial on my belt. I had to ignore the cloud of wet sand that settled on my face and hands, and the disgusting grin on Hillock¡¯s mug. Finally I worked the red vial free and brought it to my mouth. No other bandits had dropped their vials, so I only had the three doses in this one; I would have to make it last, somehow. I took a swig, automatically downing a third of the tiny vial, and returned it to my belt. The effects were immediate, a gentle warmth that spread from my core and soothed my wounds. I could feel the pain subsiding from my back, and regained control of my legs. ¡°Alright big guy,¡± I spat sand with my words, ¡°You wanna play? Let¡¯s play.¡± I really shouldn¡¯t have felt so confident, but I was irritated that this jerk of a giant was treating my life-or-death battle like a game. I rose to my feet and darted away just as he swung again, dodging by a narrow margin. I continued running away all the way back to the crumbling walls of the ruins, and he followed with his slow thudding footsteps. Alright, I thought, it¡¯s only his attacks that are fast. New plan, don¡¯t get attacked. I snorted at myself, but couldn¡¯t think of any better ideas. I ducked behind the trusty walls and tried to be completely silent. The lumbering giant stomped his way through the ruins, uncaring of the walls he crushed. I stayed in my hiding spot and observed his movements. Okay, good, he¡¯s searching around! That means I lost him! Still being quiet, I raised my bow when he was turned away and shot one arrow directly at his back. I ducked back down immediately, but I could still hear a gravelly roar of pain. He stormed at the wall I was crouched behind, but I was already changing my cover to reposition. For ten minutes, the pattern repeated; I would sneak behind him, fire one arrow, then change covers. I was rapidly running out of usable walls though, since Hillock destroyed all the ones I used. As the number of walls continued to dwindle, I noticed that his movements were getting more brutal and erratic, but his attacks were slower and easier to see. Is he entering some kind of berserk mode? Well, it doesn¡¯t matter, so long as I can see his club so I can dodge it. With another two rounds of sneaking, shooting, and running, I was out of walls. I had no choice now but to retreat back to the open area in front of the wooden palisade, since the advantage I¡¯d had in the ruins had reversed. When he spotted me, Hillock straight-up roared, like an actual monster, and stomped after me. He wasn¡¯t smiling anymore. While he was approaching, I took a chance and fired an arrow at his face. It surprised me as much as it did him when it soundly struck one of his eyes, making him roar yet again. He was actually starting to look a bit pathetic, with arrows all over his back making him look like a porcupine and now another in his eye. I didn¡¯t feel really sorry, though. I think getting hit with that huge club lost him all his brownie points. Refocusing, I aimed at him again, but he moved before I did. He drew back his weapon arm as if he wanted to hit me, but he was too far away -- oh CRAP, he just threw his freaking club! It spun elegantly through the air, heading straight for my head. I tried to dodge to the side, but it clipped me anyway. ¡°Aaagh, FUCK!¡± I shouted. I¡¯d only been caught by the handle, but the force had crushed my hip. Not only did it hurt like a BITCH, now my right leg was useless. I fumbled for the red vial again, but Hillock didn¡¯t let me catch a break. He barreled forward like a truck, his remaining eye glinting red in the pale moonlight. With my leg unresponsive, I couldn¡¯t even try to move out of the way, so his enormous palms hit me dead-on in the gut. ¡°Gu-hagh!¡± I coughed, the wind knocked right out of me. I was blown away again, straight into one of the cliffs. I hit the rocks with a CRACK! and slumped onto the beach, unable to even moan in agony. Every part of me felt like it had been hit by a separate truck, and now my vision was spinning and going monochrome on top of that. I could do nothing but lay there in pain as I felt the thud, thud of Hillock¡¯s steps approaching. ¡°Nngh¡­¡± I groaned. Like hell I was just going to lie here and take it! My muscles screamed in protest as I moved the red vial, still clutched in my hand, toward my face. I took both remaining doses at once, the soothing warmth in my belly churning into a scalding heat that rushed through my veins. ¡°RrraaAAAGH! FUCK YOU, YOU GIANT BITCH!¡± I released my own roar as the potion seared through me, healing my leg and guts enough to stand and insult him. Hillock seemed surprised, and hesitated for long enough that I could aim and fire three arrows right into his ugly face. He angrily growled as I stole his other eye and even landed an arrow in his misshapen mouth, and he leaned backward clutching his face. Be it fortune or physics, he actually fell over and landed hard on his back, driving all the arrows there even deeper in and making him roar again. I pulled my last arrow from my quiver, and rushed over to his head. He still had his hands over his useless eyes, but he must have been able to percieve me somehow because he snorted threateningly. ¡°Oh, shut the fuck up,¡± I snarled, holding the arrow like a knife and slashing it across his neck. His blood splattered everywhere, mostly on me, and he gurgled one last time before his arms relaxed and fell to the sides. I, too, collapsed onto my back, supremely exhausted and aching, but brimming with aggression and pride. ¡°YEEEAAAAHHHH!!!¡± I howled at the scattering clouds, the full moon beaming down like the light at the end of the tunnel. ¡°HOW DO YOU FUCKING LIKE ME NOW?!¡± With that defiant yell, I lay there panting for a full minute, trying to recover. The potion¡¯s heat had faded back down to its usual soothing warmth, so all I had to do was lay still as it did its work. When the warmth faded entirely, I sat up, and with a jolt realized that I hadn¡¯t burned Hillock¡¯s corpse. Luckily, he was still just a corpse, and showed no signs at all of ever moving again. With another jolt, I realized that there was a panel blinking for attention in front of me. You have defeated Area Boss ! You have reached level 3. You have reached level 4. All stats increase by 10. Received 3 Received are now unlocked. Speak to for details. is now open. Wow, that¡¯s some reward! I must have been too out of it to hear the sound of my experience increasing, but that jerk was apparently worth an exorbitant amount, plus some loot I''d never seen before. With my two new levels, I gained two Skill Points as well, but I set them aside for the moment. At last, the way forward was open! The glow from behind the palisade brightened invitingly, and the idea of a safe place to rest was enticing enough to ignore the rest of my injuries and haul myself upright. With wobbly steps, I passed a heavy door that creaked open without me touching it, and staggered into the Watch. As far as refugee camps go, it wasn¡¯t actually that shabby. The ground was paved with rough stones, and was relatively flat. Large furnaces stood sentry at either end of the rectangular area, with one of them surrounded by flimsy tents housing bandaged people laying on low cots. More importantly than them, were the people milling around in mismatched armor, who all had white levels shining above their heads! A quick peek upward confirmed that I had the same, meaning that everyone with a white level indicator was a player! For contrast, the frail-looking woman puttering around the infirmary area and the grumpy man guarding the heavy door on the other wall both had nothing above their heads, indicating they were NPCs. ¡°I actually made it,¡± I mumbled in disbelief. A couple players nearby heard me and chuckled, then turned away again. I didn¡¯t think I said anything funny, though? One person who laughed must have noticed my expression, because he approached with a friendly grin. He was pale and wiry, with hair and eyes so deeply black it felt unnatural. His face was gaunt with deep shadows under his eyes, but he seemed lively enough as he approached. ¡°Hiya, new kid,¡± he greeted casually. ¡°You hear what just happened outside the camp?¡± I blinked. ¡°Did something happen?¡± He laughed at my confusion. ¡°Yeah, somebody downed that boss outside then screamed their freakin'' head off! It was hilarious,¡± he shared. Ah, I didn¡¯t know other people could hear me. ¡°Wait,¡± he said, eyes widening, ¡°don¡¯t tell me that was you?¡± I didn¡¯t say anything, but I could feel my face heating up. ¡°Ahahaha, that¡¯s so great! You¡¯re so small, how did you yell so loud?!¡± This dude was really chipper for looking like an insomniac vampire. I¡¯ll have to think up an embarrassing nickname for him. He was still laughing when he said, ¡°My name¡¯s Drac, by the way. I play an Assassin.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Artymia,¡± I grumbled back. Damn, his actual name was the nickname I was going to give him! Gotta think of a new one now. ¡°I use a bow.¡± ¡°That¡¯s rare,¡± he nodded, seeming mildly impressed, ¡°you do archery in real life then? Most people pick a sword just ¡®cause they think it looks cool.¡± ¡°Um, no,¡± I said hesitantly. ¡°It took awhile to learn¡­¡± His eyes widened all over again. ¡°You¡­you taught yourself archery in-game? Why would you do that?¡± I shrugged. ¡°It was the first thing I grabbed, and I was panicking. At first I was just going to swing it like a club.¡± I didn¡¯t feel like singing my own praises, so I condensed the events. Drac shook his head with a frown. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing you didn¡¯t. Weapons will break if you try to use them improperly.¡± Oops, looks like there was a rule about only using weapons one way. ¡°What were you panicking about though?¡± It was my turn to frown. ¡°At the beginning, just after the tutorial¡­the Tutorial NPC died, you know? Right in front of me. Then he turned into a zombie¡­it was really scary, you know?¡± He looked at me like I was off in the head. ¡°So¡­you¡¯re bad with zombies or something? I don¡¯t see what¡¯s so bad about it.¡± His hand drifted to the twin daggers on his belt. ¡°I found these right away, and zombies are really slow so I could get around it for a backstab. You a role-player, then?¡± ¡°What? No! He was¡­¡± I started to protest, but stopped midway. ¡°¡­I guess it doesn¡¯t matter. I like the bow, and I¡¯ve gotten pretty good at it.¡± ¡°Well, whatever floats your boat, I guess,¡± he chuckled. ¡°Pun intended.¡± ¡°Okay, nice meeting you, I¡¯m going to go this random direction now. Bye, Vamp.¡± I turned on my heel and walked away. I will not tolerate puns unless I¡¯m the one making them. ¡°Bye, Archer Chick! Who¡¯s Vamp?¡± he called at my back. Ha, Vamp is your nickname! That¡¯s what you get for already having the first one! Really though, he said he easily dispatched the monster that Calvin became. Did I just meet a real psychopath? Probably not, but what did that say about his casual murder? On that note, what did that say about me? I didn¡¯t spare any of the bandits I killed a second thought, and they were humans too. Well, I had my doubts about Hillock, but the rest were normal bandit men. I had to stop that train of thought in its tracks. If I started questioning the validity of life for every enemy I killed, I would be level 4 forever. I must be really exhausted if I¡¯m feeling guilty for shooting the archers who all shot at me. ¡°Menu,¡± I tiredly said. It was high time for me to log off and get some real food, plus I think I forgot to feed Luna in my excitement to play earlier. The menu panel popped up in front of me, displaying ¡°Friend List,¡± ¡°Skill Tree,¡± and ¡°Settings¡±¡­wait. Huh? Staring at the panel didn¡¯t make a fourth option appear. Neither did closing and reopening. ¡°Where the fuck is the logout button?¡± Chapter Six: Problem Solving I tapped impatiently through the various tabs in the Settings menu, looking for the Bug Report option. It¡¯s a bit more critical to report than just a graphical glitch or some misspelled text, but this situation must be a bug, right? If I were to send a message to a Game Manager, they should be able to fix whatever¡¯s wrong. Finally, I found the Bug Report button. Rather than a keyboard, a sphere with a microphone symbol on it popped out of my menu. I guess I have to verbally report my problem? I wasn¡¯t in the mood to feel embarrassed about talking to myself, so I just recorded a concise message and pushed the bubble back into my menu to send it. All I could do now was wait for a response¡­ Waiting is one of my least favorite hobbies. After two minutes of casually leaning against the rough wall of the Watch, I was already shifting from boredom. Leaning became wandering. Exploring the Watch and investigating the storage system occupied my attention for awhile, but the camp was small and kind of crowded, so there wasn¡¯t a whole lot to discover. Then wandering evolved into pacing. I was going nuts already, and it¡¯d only been ten minutes since I submitted my report. As I made round after round of the camp, from fireplace to fireplace, I could feel the other players¡¯ eyes on me. I don¡¯t know what expression I was making, but I guess it wasn¡¯t a pretty one. Everyone was giving me lots of space. ¡°You¡¯re making a scene again, huh?¡± I spun around when someone spoke behind me without warning. It was Drac--I mean, Vamp! ¡°Am I? I was just pacing around,¡± I retorted a bit more snarkily than I intended. When he raised a dark eyebrow at me, I amended, ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m a bit tense, is all.¡± ¡°I get it, but why? You know Lioneye¡¯s Watch is a safe area, right? Nothing can spawn here.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not it. I just sent a bug report to the GM and it¡¯s making me anxious, waiting for their response.¡± Why was he looking at me like that? Did I make a weird face again? Eventually he reached some sort of mental conclusion, and said, ¡°It sucks that you ran into an error so early into the game. I guess it¡¯s better than having one later in while you¡¯re on a quest, though.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but snort, and reply, ¡°It is lucky. I¡¯ve never seen this kind of bug in any game I¡¯ve ever played, which is saying something.¡± I was tempted to start ticking off my favorite titles just to show off, but refrained. Now wasn¡¯t the time to brag. Drac¡¯s eyebrows raised in either disbelief or astonishment. ¡°A new type of error? You¡¯re serious? What, are you trapped in the game like one of those old anime?¡± He snickered, but I had no response. He was only joking, but the scary part was he was right. This sort of thing just didn¡¯t happen in real life, it was completely outlandish to even suggest. Drac must have noticed my mood, because he sobered up and tried to reassure me, ¡°Well, whatever the bug, I¡¯m sure the GMs will fix it and message you back soon. So soon after launch day, they¡¯ve got to have teams of programmers watching the error message feeds like hawks.¡± I was not entirely convinced, but Drac seemed to be doing his best to cheer me up, so I nodded. I didn¡¯t have anything else to add to the conversation, but Drac seemed to have decided to keep me company for whatever reason, so we just stood by the fireplace in silence. As we stood there, watching other players bustle around the camp, I felt my mind wandering back to dangerous waters. What if I really couldn¡¯t log out, ever? Who would take care of Luna? I didn¡¯t join the game with any friends, aside from Drac now I guess, but we only just met like twenty minutes ago. None of my real-life friends lived close enough or were trusted enough to just enter my home unnanounced and uninvited, and I couldn¡¯t invite them in while I was in the game. On that note, what would happen to me? Eating and drinking in-game would satisfy digital hunger pangs, but didn¡¯t actually provide nourishment to the body. Would I be stuck here while my real body slowly starved to death? Just when I was on the verge ofa nervous breakdown, a silver bubble with a speaker symbol on it shimmered into existence in front of me. ¡°See, I told you they¡¯d fix it quickly!¡± Drac smiled supportively. Jeez, he¡¯s a real do-gooder, isn¡¯t he? I didn¡¯t think any real person could be so friendly. Well, it doesn¡¯t really matter. I tapped on the bubble to play the message, and as it softly popped, a robotic female voice reported: ¡°GM cannot be reached at this time. We apologize for the inconvenience.¡± My face immediately darkened, and all my tension came flooding back. What kind of shitty GM would ignore an error report?! Drac must have also heard the message, because he was also quiet and somber. The two of us didn¡¯t say anything at all for a while, long after the bubble was gone. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Uh,¡± Drac started to say, ¡°That¡­really sucks. Um. Maybe they¡¯re backed up?¡± He offered weakly. After another minute of morose silence, he heaved a sigh and said, ¡°Look, maybe there¡¯s a glitch with the in-game messaging system. New release and all that. I¡¯ll email the devs from real life, or something. How do you spell your handle?¡± I blinked in confusion and told him. He nodded seriously, summoned his menu, and then his avatar dissolved into sparkles that quickly faded. So other people can still log out normally, I realized. Regardless of anyone else¡¯s issues or non-issues, I was back to waiting alone. I tried to amuse myself in various ways; I spent a whole minute rearranging my meager inventory, and another two minutes just playing with the straps on my quiver. People-watching was fun for all of five minutes, since everyone here was a beginner like me and all outfitted with similar shoddy gear. Furthermore, all the NPCs here looked tired and listless, and didn¡¯t move or talk much. I guess that would be normal for a bunch of outcasts struggling to survive, but it did nothing to improve my mood. Naturally the game I would get stuck in, would be one as depressing and bleak as this and not colorful and fantastical like more common MMORPGs¡­ Before I realized it, I was pacing again. I bet once I stopped, there would be a groove worn in the stone floor. People began to shift out of my way, so I didn¡¯t have to think about dodging them so much, which unfortunately left my mind to dwell on some seriously scary thoughts. Thoughts like, how similar my situation was with the plot of one of the anime I watched years ago, that Drac mentioned before. Something about swords, I think. In that show, ten thousand people buy a VRMMO on its launch day, but they all get trapped inside unable to log out, and if their avatar died, their console visor would kill them. I used to joke with my brother how we were both such game addicts that we would buy that console anyway, even with the danger. Of course, that was more than a decade ago, long before anybody even thought real Virtual Reality was even possible. Struck with a sudden fear, my feet paused in their path. What if this situation was the same as that show? In this new game, very few people would have shelled out the extra cash for the Advanced Package, which meant everyone with a Standard Package would have no idea about the upgrade disc. What if it was a trap? What if there was no logout because there was no going back?! I had to sit down where I stood lest I start hyperventilating. This game was not for the faint of heart, and would pull no punches. Death was very likely, if not unavoidable. I had a hard enough time getting through the very first area, which was essentially still a tutorial! But¡­I had to shiver as I considered the possibility that death in-game would carry the same consequence as that show. What if there was only one Death? How close had I come already to finding out first-hand? Just as I started to shiver from the implications, Drac logged back in with a quiet pop. He quickly strode over to where I was still sitting on the floor, seemingly unsurprised at my panic. He didn¡¯t have to say anything; his grim expression said it all. He didn¡¯t have any luck in real life, either. ¡°The email bounced back immediately,¡± he told me upfront. ¡°Seconds later, I got an automated email from the company telling me that the GMs couldn¡¯t be contacted.¡± He seemed incredibly frustrated, which was comforting for some reason. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of a game dev being unreachable days after they release such a huge game. This whole thing is really sketchy.¡± ¡°Sketchy or not, it¡¯s happening anyway so I just have to deal with it.¡± I reasoned. I was still freaking out internally, majorly,but years of intense gaming instilled an automatic logical response to unreasonable game scenarios. Granted, this scenario wasn¡¯t supposed to be part of the game, but my gamer-sense overlooked that. ¡°Look,¡± Drac started suddenly, ¡°I don¡¯t want to just leave you to stew in this alone. Do you need help with anything? I could get you some better gear at least, I think. I don¡¯t know what you plan on doing from now, but being better equipped never hurts.¡± ¡°That would be great, but I actually have a bigger favor to ask,¡± I said after thinking for a little. ¡°Do you know where Broadview Gardens is?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m actually near there, in the capitol. Why?¡± ¡°When I logged in, I was alone in my apartment with my cat. I don¡¯t have anyone that can check on her.¡± I studied his face, trying to read the depth of his concern. ¡°If it¡¯s okay with you, I¡¯d like to add you as a Friend and private message you my address.¡± ¡°WHAT?!¡± He shouted, drawing a few curious glances. Toning it down, he continued, ¡°Why the hell would you just give a random stranger your address, and tell them you¡¯re alone?! Do you have a death wish?!¡± I just weathered his tirade. It¡¯s common knowledge that you never share your real information on the internet, but this was a special circumstance. ¡°I get that it¡¯s reckless, but I know nobody else in-game, and none of my real life friends could visit me,¡± I revealed. ¡°Honestly, I could save up and re-buy my games and consoles if you wanted to rob me, and considering the lengths you¡¯ve already gone to try and help I don¡¯t think you¡¯re a homicidal maniac.¡± I gave him a sharper glare to make my point. ¡°But my cat can¡¯t open the food bin on her own, and has been an indoor cat all her life. She wouldn¡¯t know what to do with a mouse if she saw one. She''s been my best friend for a decade, and she doesn¡¯t deserve to suffer while I¡¯m dealing with this shit.¡± ¡°Those are solid reasons, but none of it changes the fact that you¡¯d be telling me where you live.We just met! I mean¡­yeah, I want to help, but that seems a little extreme.¡± ¡°Of course it¡¯s extreme!¡± it was my turn to shout at him. ¡°I HAVE to be extreme, because I don¡¯t know what the hell is happening! Even if all I needed was someone to call an ambulance to fetch me, I¡¯d have to give you my address anyway! If I¡¯m already doing that, I might as well be assured that my cat doesn¡¯t starve, right?¡± I calmed myself with a deep breath, but my heart was still racing. Geez, what if I did need an ambulance? If this really had turned into a death game, an ambulance might not arrive in time to save me...This whole mess just got even scarier. Drac must have seen that, because he wasn¡¯t protesting as strongly anymore, but he still looked really reluctant. ¡°Drac, I need help from the real world,¡± I sighed. ¡°I need help for real, and you¡¯re the only person I can trust right now.¡± ¡°Ah, geez!¡± Drac huffed exasperatedly. ¡°Please tell me you don¡¯t do this in any other games¡­and it¡¯s not all just some horrible prank.¡± I was already pulling up the Friend List in my menu. ¡°Why the fuck would I joke about this? Also, you emailed the devs yourself,¡± I pointed out. I sent the friend request, which he accepted. From the same menu, I typed a private message with my contact information and my mother¡¯s number, and sent it. ¡°I also sent you my family¡¯s phone number, so you can call them and let them know why I¡¯m not contacting them myself. They can probably take care of my catonce they know, too.¡± ¡°Freaking hell, why not throw in your PIN number while you¡¯re at it,¡± Drac grumbled, frowning at the address as he tried to commit it to memory. ¡°And for the record, that was a joke. If you try to give me your PIN I¡¯m going to pick a game out of your library and keep it.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Without further ado, he logged out again, leaving me sitting in the middle of the camp. I hope I judged him right¡­ Chapter Seven: Settling Matters Now that I was alone again, I had to think of the next thing I wanted to do. Belatedly, I remembered that the victory window from Hillock¡¯s fight told me to talk to the NPCs here. Players seemed to be grouping around two in particular, a buff, tattooed, grumpy-looking guy irritably crossing his arms, and a slender, frail-looking woman puttering around the area of the camp that counted as the infirmary. Between the two, I¡¯d rather talk to the woman first¡­the guy looks like he wouldn¡¯t appreciate being bothered. ¡°Uh, excuse me,¡± I called out as I approached her. She jumped a little, but turned to face me readily enough. ¡°Yes, can I help you?¡± She murmured. Her voice was as wispy as her physique. The other players trying to talk to her didn¡¯t appear to mind my intrusion, even continuing their individual conversations with nobody in particular. Maybe NPC interactions are instanced? It would make sense, since everybody has to talk to the same people, but players can¡¯t just wait in line patiently to turn in quests. Shaking my head to clear out the distracting thoughts, I said, ¡°I defeated the brute outside, Hillock, and thought I should report it.¡± I didn¡¯t bother mentioning game concepts like quest windows. As an NPC, I doubted she¡¯d respond to them anyway. Her pale eyes widened. ¡°You killed Hillock? Amazing. That tyrant had been lording over this camp since he and his band of misfits stormed the beach. I really must thank you! Would you accept this as a reward for your efforts?¡± A window appeared, startling me. It read: offers you a Skill Gem, as a quest reward. Do you accept? ¡°Yes, thanks!¡± I hastily said. Never pass on free stuff, especially when the word ¡°skill¡± is attached! Tessa nodded with a small smile, and there was a quiet ¡°ding!¡± as the first window vanished and was replaced by a much larger one. The Skill Gem, has been transferred to your Inventory. Skill Gems can be socketed into equipment with Gem Sockets of a matching color. To use an equipped Skill Gem, speak the name of or strongly think of the image invoked by the Skill Gem. (e.g. To use Fiery Slash, you must have a blade equipped and visualise slashing with fire.) Gem Sockets can be viewed easily in your Inventory screen. Dismissing the window, I opened the flap of my little leg-satchel, and sure enough, above the mostly empty inventory grid, there was a simple equipment grid with spaces for two weapons, armor for various body parts, and a few trinkets. My bow and quiver occupied both weapon spaces, and my tattered rag of a dress didn¡¯t even count as equipment at all. In the grid below, I could see the stale bread Calvin gave me still sitting in one box, a tarnished-looking brass pendant, a shiny blue gem with an intricate gold casing, and an oddly-shaped rock with a small white ¡°3¡± in the corner. I suppose the new items are my spoils from the boss fight? Neither my bow or quiver had anything looking like a socket on their equipment windows, so I left the gem alone, but I tapped the pendant and dropped it into the necklace equipment slot. A brief golden ¡°+5 STR¡± floated out of the window, and dissolved. So equipment can give status boosts too, huh? It makes sense, for an item called ¡°Amulet of Giant¡¯s Strength.¡± Thinking about the boss fight reminded me, I had unspent Skill Points! I pulled up my Skill Tree and advanced the Dexterity branch again, and after a short internal debate used the other one to advance the Intelligence branch. I never liked the idea of min-maxing a character, and it was extremely important now to be comfortable with my playstyle! Tessa spoke up once I was done fiddling with menus and screens. ¡°You¡¯ll want to tell Tarkleigh about your feat. He¡¯s something like the leader of our camp here. I know he¡¯s a bit irritable, but he¡¯s a good man.¡± She indicated the angry guy standing imposingly by the camp¡¯s second gate, then bid me a quick farewell and went back to tending the ill and injured.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Moving back to the center of the camp, I sighed and approached the grumpy man. None of the other players were standing too close, either, but they weren¡¯t being chased away, so how bad could he be? Once I was close enough, he acknowledged my presence with an even fiercer scowl and a grumble of, ¡°Fucking hell, not another one.¡± Okay, noted. He¡¯s as grumpy as he looks! Feeling put off, I tried to shake it off and said, ¡°I was recommended to report the defeat of Hillock and his thugs.¡± He raised a bushy eyebrow inquiringly. ¡°A waif like you took down an oaf like that? Maybe you¡¯ve more steel than you show. Well, you did make it in here, so I suppose you¡¯ve got nothin¡¯ to hide.¡± He uncrossed his arms and shook my hand firmly with a calloused grip. ¡°Welcome to Lioneye¡¯s Watch, our shithole of a camp. Eh, it¡¯s surely not the best, but it¡¯s better than the nightmares outside. Mind you don¡¯t disturb the peace.¡± ¡°Um, I won¡¯t?¡± I answered, discreetly nursing my poor hand. I heard another ¡°ding!¡± Congratulations, for completing your first Story Quest! Quests can be either Story Quests or Task Quests. Story Quests must be performed in a certain order, and will determine your role in the fate of Wraeclast and its inhabitants. Task Quests are granted by NPCs or special Quest Items, and will not influence the world as a whole. Your reward for fulfilling this Quest is: 1000 EXP, +1 Skill Point I heard the familiar sound of the experience bar filling up, and yet another ¡°ding!¡± The window vanished and was replaced with: You have reached Level 5. Now that you are more experienced, the automatic status increase will be replaced by an increase of 5 to one stat of choice. Please select: STR/INT/DEX The level-up reward changed at level 5? That seemed a little weird to me, but I guess it was to keep the stat numbers at reasonable levels. If everyone got +10 to all stats for every level, stat restrictions on items would be pointless. With another sigh, I chose Dexterity. As a squishy archer, having good aim and fast feet would serve me better than anything else. Just then, Tarkleigh cleared his throat to get my attention back. ¡°You did a good deed for this camp, and I believe good deeds should be rewarded. Take these, for the future.¡± Woah, I¡¯m getting so much stuff so quickly! It almost seemed too good to be true, like my entire ordeal in the tutorial was a lie. offers you a Skill Book and a Plain Shortbow as a quest reward. Do you accept? ¡°Yes! Wow, yes, thanks,¡± I stammered. A Skill Book?! Did that mean I could learn a skill to use without needing to equip a skill gem? When I checked the newest additions to my inventory, though, it just granted an extra skill point to use. It was still an awesome reward! I used the book on the spot, spent the skill point on the Dexterity branch, and equipped the new bow to my main weapon slot. It even had a gem socket! When I tried touching my skill gem to the socket, I felt a slight chill run through me, like I¡¯d passed through a film of cool water, and then the gem sat firmly in its socket on the back of the bow, just above where my hand gripped it. I took a moment to review my numbers. My Strength was now sitting at 25 thanks to the boost from my new amulet, but my Intelligence and Dexterity had both rocketed forward to 40 and 50, respectively! Since I decided to stick with the bow, I didn¡¯t really mind having a low Strength stat, but it did limit my health pool severely. I suppose in the future I¡¯d have to work to balance that out, but for the moment I felt pretty good! ¡°Lil¡¯ missy, I run a small barter program in this camp with Tessa¡¯s help. We always need materials, and have goods to trade for them,¡± Tarkleigh continued. He opened a heavy-looking chest at his side, and a large inventory screen appeared in it similar to my little pouch. His, though, was absolutely packed with gear! Weapons, armor, shoes, even quivers and arrows! Everything had a small square marking with a sketch of some material or other and a number, presumably the quantity. There were multiple tabs, and I took a moment to browse. In the end, I found a leather corset for two whetstones and a bundle of 30 arrows for just one whetstone, that I decided were worth handing over all the whetstones I had. Not like I needed them for anything, either. I was even able to sell my old bow for a shard of some blue crystal, labeled ¡°Transmutation Fragment.¡± It wasn¡¯t useful in any way, but something told me that if I gathered enough of them it¡¯d be worth my time. Having stowed away my new arrows, struggled to lace up my new sturdy corset, and sorted out all the distracting windows, I finally made my way back over to the wall where I first rested. I pulled the loaf of stale bread from my inventory and started to nibble on it. The dusty taste made me long for my hot coffee and bacon from breakfast this morning¡­but it was a world away, now. I would eat all the bacon and drink all the coffee I could get my hands on when I made it back!...If I made it back. Feeling lonely, I sat down with my back to the wall, closed my eyes, and tried not to think anymore. Chapter Eight: A Brief Story -POV change- When he logged in for the first time, he had to take a moment to just gape in absolute awe. It really felt as though he had been transported into some medieval dungeon! He marveled just a second longer at the power of his innocuous black console, then sucked in a shaky breath and proceeded through the hall. He breezed through the character creation, browsing the cells of inmates until he found one with a race that would fit his playstyle and only altered his appearance slightly. He had to think for a long time about his name, but eventually settled for his first instinct and named himself Drac. The tutorial took him a bit by surprise with its pace, but he kept up well enough. After the shipwreck and one final cutscene, he acquired his twin daggers and made his way up the beach, cursing softly at the realistic weather. Finally, he beat the bandit boss and made it into Lioneye¡¯s Watch. The boss wasn¡¯t anything special, just a normal bandit with a name and a slightly higher level, which made his attacks hurt more. It was definitely troublesome how he kept calling in new minions, but he just counted them as extra EXP. It took him awhile to clear the first boss thanks to his EXP farming. Shortly after he entered the camp, though, an announcement was made that an area boss had spawned! He thought it might be too high of a hurdle for newbies fresh out of the tutorial, but it wasn¡¯t his problem. He turned in the quests and had just bought leather gear for himself when a loud noise broke the muffled stillness. ¡°RrraaAAAGH! FUCK YOU, YOU GIANT BITCH!¡± and then a few minutes later, ¡°YEEEAAAAHHHH!!! HOW DO YOU FUCKING LIKE ME NOW?!¡± Everyone froze when the unexpected cry echoed over the walls, then started to awkwardly laugh at each other¡¯s surprise. Another announcement proclaimed that the area boss had just been defeated, which brought about another round of excited chatter. It hadn¡¯t been an hour since the thing spawned, and it was already killed! Moreover, on the newbie side of the camp! A new face, a small girl with short white hair and icy blue eyes, tiredly came through the gate, and he approached to share the news in case she hadn¡¯t heard it. When asked, though, her eyes widened and she began to blush. It was her?! ¡°But you¡¯re so small!¡± he couldn¡¯t help but laugh, making her pout a bit. Soon, the conversation turned to her gear, which was to say the least, crappy. Her quiver was nearly empty, her bow was just a stick with some string tied to it, and even her dress was torn! Drac had never seen any other female newbie player with a skirt shorter than mid-thigh, and granted, the beginner gear was tattered to start with, but hers came dangerously close to immodesty. He thought about asking the reason, but noticed the off-white bandage wrapped around her arm, and didn¡¯t bring it up. Instead, he discovered that she taught herself archery in-game, mid-battle! This girl was kind of a badass. In the end, she called him ¡°Vamp¡± and turned away from his terrible pun, so he just shook his head in amusement and went his own way, looking for early-game quests. - Drac had just finished asking all the NPCs in camp about tasks to do, and was wandering around aimlessly when he noticed a crowd forming. Curious, he joined them, and discovered the object of their attention - it was his new acquaintance, Artymia! She was pacing around looking haggard and worried, yet the other players were intimidated by her cold aura and ragged - well, more ragged, appearance. With a quiet sigh, he decided that if nobody else was going to approach, he might as well. What kind of man would he be if he let a new friend worry all alone?Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°You¡¯re making a scene again, huh?¡± he greeted her jokingly, only to be snapped at but then quickly apologized to. He was told that she had encountered a serious bug and was waiting for a response from the GMs. He couldn¡¯t help but make a joke about her situation being similar to the plot of an old anime he used to watch, but she went scarily silent. His face stiffened as the silence lengthened, not wanting to accept the implication. He hurriedly tried to cheer her up, which had minimal effect, but both of their faces fell when the response finally did come: ¡°GM cannot be reached at this time. We apologize for the inconvenience.¡± This had to be serious. If it were truly just a normal bug, the GM should respond promptly, especially so soon after release. On top of that, Artymia looked brokenhearted, like her final hope had been shattered. Drac wasn¡¯t a heartless enough person to leave her wallowing in despair, so he quickly offered to send an email to the GMs from his home computer. She seemed startled, but accepted, and he pulled up his menu to log out. For one frightening moment, he couldn¡¯t help but make doubly sure that the log out button was truly there, but it was right where it should be and he was able to log out with no issue. Rather than causing him doubt, it only reaffirmed his concern that Artymia¡¯s problem was very real. Logging out was such an essential function of a game, it had never been heard of to be bugged, so it was too improbable to lie about with such a serious expression. Though he had only just met her, he was fairly convinced that she was the type who showed her true thoughts on her face, the type who couldn¡¯t lie even if she wanted to. And who in their right mind would lie about being unable to log out? He sent the email as quickly as he could type, but immediately got an ¡°unable to send¡± message followed by the same reply they got in-game. Disheartened, he logged back in to tell her the news, and felt his sympathy rise for her as she seemed to struggle with her logic and emotions. He offered to get her some better gear, since she had none, but she had a far more surprising request. ¡°Do you know where Broadview Gardens is?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m actually near there in the capitol. Why?¡± ¡°When I logged in, I was alone in my apartment with my cat. I don¡¯t have anyone that can check on her. If it¡¯s okay with you, I¡¯d like to add you as a Friend and private message you my address.¡± ¡°WHAT?!¡± Drac immediately tried to refuse, doubting her sanity, but she wore an extremely resolute face and bombarded him with reasons he should go along with her crazy ¡°favor.¡± For a split second, he thought she might actually be scamming him, or trying to kidnap him or something like that, but then she said, ¡°Drac, I need help from the real world. I need help for real, and you¡¯re the only person I can trust right now.¡± She looked so helpless at that moment, he lost all will to argue. If it was a trap, fine, whatever! He had to go, just in case. She sent him a friend request, which he accepted, then a private message containing an address and a phone number, which she said was her family¡¯s. ¡°Freaking hell, why not send me your PIN number while you¡¯re at it,¡± Drac jokingly grumbled, ¡°And for the record, that was a joke. If you try to give me your PIN I¡¯m going to pick a game out of your library and keep it.¡± ¡°Uh-huh,¡± she giggled dryly, watching him log out with tired eyes. He maintained eye contact while the light engulfed him, and saw as her face fell into uncertainty and slight reluctance. Again, her honest face reassured him that he wasn¡¯t wrong about her. She had been putting up a strong front, giving him such sensitive information, but considered it her only option. She was worried that he couldn¡¯t be trusted as much as she thought, and somehow that knowledge filled him with determination to meet her expectations. He was still going to call the phone number first, and only go to the address if it was actually her family that picked up. No sense in being foolhardy. And in the case that her problemwas real...what then?