by Ramy Vance
“Got it, my fearless leader,” Stew said, as he unsheathed his sword and cried, “LEEROY JENKINS!” With that, he bolted toward the forest.
“No, Stew! I said, ‘No Leeroying’ this!” But it was too late. The barbarian was already behind the tree line.
“You can’t keep a good Jenkins down.” Sandy laughed as dark shadows swam over her. She was going into full DeeStruck mode. “This shit is on.”
The childlike look of fun drained from her face. She swiped her hand slowly over her cheeks and an ancient death mask materialized on her face. Her terrifyingly large black eyes had blood pouring from them, and her mouth was nothing more than a carved snarl.
Her robes flapped open as she rose off of the ground, magic crackling around her. Everyone was about to be reminded where she had gotten her handle. “Let us bathe in the frothing blood of our enemies,” she shouted.
The rangers and the other barbarian came up behind them. “Does he usually do that?” one of the rangers asked.
“Leeroy’s gotta Leeroy, I guess.” Beth shrugged.
“And yeah, the joke is not lost on any of us,” Suzuki added.
There was a monstrous shriek, followed by a bloodcurdling scream of pain, the latter much more human and much more frightened, before Leeroy’s body came sailing through the air. He hit the ground and skidded until he was laying at Suzuki’s feet.
“How’d it work out?” Suzuki asked as he scanned the forest for whatever was strong enough to toss Stew like a stuffed doll. His HUD still didn’t read anything. It was definitely using something to mask itself.
Leeroy groaned as he sat up. “Reconnaissance finished, oh Fearless Leader. We got ourselves a haphnax. A big one.”
Suzuki’s sword materialized in his hand as he raised his shield before him. “Haphnax? Shit. Of all the creatures they’d throw at us, it had to be a goddamned haphnax. Let’s get ready, Mundanes,” he called as he cast the Rally spell on his teammates.
Immediately everyone’s HUD pinged with the effects of the spell. Now they would be better at coordinating their attacks, and better coordination meant a higher percentage of success.
Looking to the side, Suzuki noted the other party standing together, mixed looks of terror and fear painting their faces. With a heavy sigh, he looked at his Mana pool. It was still pretty full, but he knew this battle was just the beginning. He needed to conserve his magic.
But there’d be no magic to conserve if he died. Casting Rally on the other party, he said, “Come closer. We stand a better chance if we band together.”
The sound of cracking trees filled the air as the haphnax stepped into the clearing. It was vaguely insect-like, with a tail the length of its body that ended with a sharp claw swooping over it. It had no eyes, only a large, oval mouth filled with rows of snapping, razor-sharp teeth.
The haphnax reared up on its hind legs and let out another shriek.
“All right,” Suzuki shouted. “HUDs, shields, and weapons up, everyone. Remember Mundanes, stay calm. This isn’t our first terror bug.”
Suzuki’s HUD targeted the haphnax, finally registering it as a threat. “Thanks for the heads up,” he muttered to himself.
His health was displayed to the right, alongside his mana. At the bottom was a list of his available quick skills. In the top left corner was a series of equations and percentages that currently read Likelihood of success: 12%.
Very low. As in, this-could-be-the-death-of-them-all low.
That was the thing about the Middang3ard game. Everything was measured in percentage terms of success and failure. A complex algorithm measured the players’ skills, ability to work as a team, weapons, and the enemy’s power, processing it through complex equations that calculated their chances.
Come up with one plan, and the chances were only so high. Modify that plan, coordinate better…and suddenly your chances went up.
Or down.
There were no stats or levels or even experience points, XP for characters to improve on. They simply had to get better in the way one got better at anything in real life—through practice.
It was like this game wasn’t a game at all, but rather a safe place to learn new things…and often Suzuki felt this was more of a school than a game.
No one knew exactly how it worked, although thousands of mathematicians, scientists, data analysts, and nerds had spent and continued to spend countless hours to try to figure it out.
No one could, and in the end, everyone chalked it up to Myrddin Emrys being one of those avant-garde geniuses capable of coming up with the impossible equation that literally took everything into account.
That or he was an alien.
Whichever it was, Suzuki knew to trust his HUD, and at twelve percent , their chances of survival were way too low. He almost liked it better when his HUD didn’t say anything. At least then he could pretend he wasn’t in any real danger.
“Why the hell is that so low?” Suzuki mused. The Mundanes were four highly-experienced players with tons of great gear. Plus he’d cast Rally, so their HUDs would help them coordinate their attacks.
And it was only one creature.
The Mundanes had faced worse before. They should be in the mid-50s. Easy.
Plus they had this other party with them, and new players were starting to show up, having answered Beth’s call for help.
Beth stepped closer to Suzuki, jerking her thumb at the barbarian and the rangers cowering behind the Mundanes.
“Those three pussies behind us are filling this whole place with newb fear,” Beth lamented.
“So what?”
“So what? That haphnax is just eating it up. That’s what. And look.” She pointed at the tree line. “More players are showing up all the time, and when they see that thing, they freak out too, feeding it more of their fear. Pathetic.”
The haphnax shrieked again as it tore the ground up with its claws, swiping its tail at three players who were stupid enough to think they could sneak up behind it. Instantly the three players were wiped out, their bodies disappearing into pixelated heaven.
Suzuki did a quick calculation, checking the monster’s abilities. It could feed off of fear, and right now, it was having one hell of a meal. Beth was right.
“Typical psych-out,” Suzuki said in agreement. “DeeStruck, get up in the air and get me a perimeter so we can lock this asshole in. Leeroy, tank him. And do it right this time. And GameOver,” Suzuki turned to Beth as he used her in-game name. That was something he only did when things were going to get messy. “Do what you do best.”
Sandy’s eyes rolled back in her head, exposing eerie white orbs as she floated up into the air. “Not fair. I wanted to rip its heart out.”
Beth unsheathed her sword and took the front ranks with Stew. “You’ll get a chance, babe, don’t worry.”
Suzuki looked over his shoulder as more and more players showed up, surrounding the creature. When he looked back at the haphnax, his HUD now read a thirty percent chance of success.
Good, the odds were looking up.
“Give him the juice, Mundanes,” Suzuki shouted.
Beth and Stew raised their swords, slamming them against their chests and casting Enrage and Battle Shout. The haphnax screeched, growing noticeably more aggressive. Dozens of other players were in the clearing now, trying to get their bearings.
The haphnax screeched again as it leapt into the air, soaring over Stew and Beth and landing in front of Suzuki, swiping him with its tail.
Suzuki lifted up his shield and deflected the attack, but the haphnax was enraged. It flipped around and struck one of the rangers with its claw, instantly decapitating him.
Stepping back, Suzuki slashed at the haphnax and joined with the rest of the Mundanes. The haphnax started flailing around as the rest of the parties converged on the creature, but there was too much fear in the group.
Even with the haphnax surrounded, confused, and enraged, it was still soaking up the fear of the other players. With anoth
er shriek, the creature spun in a circle, taking a player out with its deadly tail every few seconds.
“Any bright ideas?” Beth stared at the flailing mosh pit of freaked-out players and gnashing teeth.
Suzuki’s HUD now read ten percent. What the fuck?
“Just one,” Suzuki shouted. “DeeStruck—”
“More support,” Sandy moaned.
“Sort of. Y’all ready for glory?”
“For glory, for honor, for XP,” they shouted.
That had been the Mundanes’ mantra since their early days of playing before Middang3ard. “You know, guys,” Stew said, “the game got rid of XP for percentages. Maybe we should change our catchphrase to something like—”
“Shut it, Stew. Focus.” Suzuki pointed at the other players. “DeeStruck, paralyze everyone you can see from above. Everyone but us. After they black out, they’ll stop feeding it fear. Then I need Beth and Stew to get in close and pin it down. Once that’s done, you can rain sweet death down on our little friend.”
Sandy’s fist pumped and then blasted into the sky. She screamed loudly as clouds massed above her. Lightning rained down, striking every player and the haphnax, as the night filled with screams and the smell of singed hair.
Once the lightning strikes stopped, Beth and Stew sprang forward. They sprinted past the stragglers who had avoided the blast and leapt over the pile of bodies that had fallen next to the haphnax.
The insect-like creature sought to run now that the fear was gone, but it was too late. Stew and Beth were already on him.
Stew brought his great sword down and impaled the haphnax while Beth used two short swords to pin its tail to the ground.
Then Stew pulled out two daggers and beat his chest with them, drawing blood as his eyes bulged with the casting of Battle Shout. “Now you taste fear,” he growled.
The haphnax tried to recoil, but before it could move, the two Mundanes jumped on its back, pinning it further. This time, they used spears that their HUDs called forth from their inventory.
Once Suzuki saw that the haphnax was pinned, he raised his sword, and his whole body glowed white as he shouted, “I cast Holy Protection!” The white glow exploded from his body and flew through the air until it attached to all the players in the area.
Suzuki’s HUD now read eighty percent.
“Bring the pain, DeeStruck,” Suzuki shouted. “Get clear, Mundanes.”
Beth and Stew didn’t need to be told twice. They knew what was coming. DeeStruck was about to destruct.
The two Mundanes leapt over the paralyzed players, seeking to put as much distance between them and the monster as they could.
Suzuki’s HUD read one hundred percent.
“My enemies know only fear of my name,” DeeStruck shouted from above. “They dream of my hand when the nightmare of death takes them. I am Death.”
Fire burst out over DeeStruck’s body and she plummeted to the earth like a meteorite. Fire erupted and washed over the haphnax as it screeched and writhed in pain.
DeeStruck burrowed her way into the haphnax, her body disappearing inside the insect-like creature.
She was out of sight until Suzuki made out a hand that jutted out of the haphnax’s back. It held a still-beating heart in it.
DeeStruck shimmied out of the thing’s back, standing on what was left of it. She was drenched in greenish-blue blood that hung from her like thick mucus. “I fucking love this game,” she shouted with unabashed glee.
Chapter Four
Suzuki and the rest of the Mundanes gathered around the pile of twitching players. This was going to be a problem. They’d be pissed that DeeStruck had put them down, only a few of them understanding that the move had saved their lives.
Still, there was a way to manage some of their anger. Suzuki held his sword up again and healed the crowd, spending more precious mana.
It was a good move. The other players would be less pissed off now and, given that danger still lurked, Suzuki felt comforted by having strength in numbers—and if he was honest with himself, more cannon fodder.
The other parties had suffered massive causalities, but a few of the players were left. He checked his HUD on his and his teammates’ status, but because the game mirrored real life, there were no Hit Points. Not exactly.
There were exhaustion and pain, which the VR suits simulated by making it more difficult to move. And as for the pain, that was accomplished by the suit literally poking the players wherever they were wounded.
Suzuki cast some more healing spells, which, in practical terms, lowered the resistance the suit offered and removed some of the painful spots.
All those spells had nearly depleted his mana pool. If another haphnax appeared, Suzuki doubted he’d have enough magic to deal with it, let alone heal his party from the wounds they’d inevitably sustain.
Beth clapped Suzuki on the back, and he jumped from the shock. She was smiling at him in that way she seemed to reserve only for him.
Or at least he hoped it was only for him.
He tried not to spend too much time thinking about how Beth smiled at other people. He felt it might be a complicated circle of thoughts.
Thoughts best left unthought.
Still, he felt there was something special about the way she looked at him after a battle.
Beth smirked. “That was a ballsy move, douchenozzle. Great job.”
One of the players—a cleric, judging by his robes—who had been paralyzed walked over to Suzuki and stuck out his hand. “I’ll say that was a ballsy move. I’d also add it was a dick move, just to round everything out.”
“You’re still alive, ain’t ya?” Stew snapped. “Even if you did get humiliated, you still get to play another day. Not like some of your newb-ass friends.”
“What the hell did you say about my friends?”
Suzuki stepped between Stew and the other player. Emotions were starting to run hot, and they could all still be in grave danger.
“Hey, hey.” Suzuki stood between them. “Sorry I didn’t give you guys a heads up, but I had to figure something out fast. And we’re all here now to figure out this dungeon, so what’s the big deal? We’re here to help each other out.”
“Yeah, I guess. Whatever. Thanks.”
The cleric walked away, and Suzuki knelt down to start a fire as Sandy and Stew went off to talk. It was their post-battle ritual…mage and barbarian talking through everything that happened.
Beth knelt next to Suzuki and put her hand on his shoulder. “That was a solid plan, Suzuki. You did good. Better than I thought we were going to do, with so many kids here fucking things up.”
“Thanks.” Suzuki nodded reluctantly.
Beth always gave him a post-fight pep talk. A few years ago, he had thought it was because she believed he needed cheering up. He wasn’t much of a fighter compared to players like Stew or Sandy, but Beth always made him feel like he was an important part of the team. Sometimes she made it seem like he was the most important part, a tactician a grade above any she had ever played with before.
“So what are you thinking about the door?” Beth asked.
Suzuki shook his head. “Hm. You noticed how the haphnax scaled everyone’s fear?”
“Suzuki, what are you talking about? The only reason it was doing so much damage was that those kids didn’t know what they were doing.”
“No, it didn’t scale damage. It scaled fear, and then it projected out on us. That’s new. I think that’s why it kept shrieking. It was trying to scare us and then feed off that fear.”
“Yeah, so?”
Suzuki looked around the clearing. Across the way was an all-barbarian party heating themselves by the fire. “So, it was purposely trying to accumulate as much fear as it could to power itself up. This wasn’t a one-on-one thing, either. It was designed to feed off multi-combatants from multiple parties, and if Sandy hadn’t gotten that under control, I think it might have kept doing it until it was unstoppable. And that,” he snapped his
fingers twice before walking off, “gives me an idea.”
“Hey,” Beth called. “So, what? Conversation over?” Beth knew Suzuki well enough not to disturb him when his mind was turning, so she just watched as he went over to the barbarian and ranger who had been standing there when they first arrived.
They looked up and Suzuki could tell they didn’t really trust him, not after what he did. But they didn’t draw their weapons either.
“Hey,” he called. “I’m Suzuki.”
The barbarian stepped forward. He was covered in war paint and tattoos, and a giant scar ran the length of his chest.
“Saw what your party did to that haphnax. Dick move,” the barbarian grunted. “But it saved us. I’m still standing because of you, so you’re all right with me. Name’s Conan_119876.”
Suzuki silently groaned. Another player with the wholly original name of Conan. And judging from the long string of numbers after his name, it seemed Mr. Originality here was just one of almost a hundred and twenty thousand others who thought Conan was a good in-game name. “Yeah, your guys held your shit together pretty well.”
“Well enough, until…you know.” He made a sleeping gesture. “What do you want?”
“I been thinking ‘bout this door. You guys tried to open it already, right?”
The barbarian nodded to the door. “Been banging on it for two days. You?”
“Long enough. So there’s this inscription on the door. ‘The power is more than one.’ And you saw how that haphnax aggregated its fear and used it against us. I think the game’s pulling some weird shit. I mean, this is the Expansion’s secret dungeon. It’s not going to work like the rest of the game, just like that haphnax didn’t work like the rest of the game.”
The barbarian took a few practice swings with his ax before pointing at Suzuki. “So what do you think we need to do?”
Suzuki walked closer to the door, pointing at its center. “Attack it together. Just like the haphnax used our collective fear, we need to work together. Collectively. I think that’s what distinguishes the Expansion from the rest of the game. Shit only works if different parties work at it together.”
