by J D Astra
“Based on a series of hacked emails I uncovered, I think he had these special areas installed in order to help certain individuals game the system. I personally believe Osmark realized that V.G.O. wasn’t just a video game,” I said, pointing up at the sky, “not with that asteroid inbound.”
We both glanced up, and I went on. “He realized V.G.O. was the birth of a new world. A new dimension. Initially, the game was set up to put all starting players at the same disadvantages, to level the playing field for everyone. But the mega-wealthy, the politicians, the banksters, people in organized crime, they don’t want a level playing field. They want an edge.
“And all of these new areas were expressly added to give those people that edge. In a couple of weeks, after the asteroid hits and it’s too late for anyone IRL to do anything about it, V.G.O is going to turn into a new feudal dark age, and everyone is going to be scrambling to carve out a piece of this empire for themselves. And the little guys, people like us, are going to get crushed in the mix. People like us are going to end up being the serfs, Jack. The unwashed masses for uber players to lord over. Unless...” I thought of all the things I’d done to get us here. “Unless we fight dirty.”
I let him process this for a while, and I could see the gears cranking away in his head, his lips mumbling gently as he thought it through.
“This zone right here”—I pointed to the dungeon opening—“has already been bought and paid for by a South American dictator named Aleixo Carrera. I don’t know what’s buried in these ruins, but I know Carrera paid twenty million for it. Twenty million, Jack. That’s a lot of money for a few strings of digital code, so I’ve got to think whatever’s here is powerful.” I remembered how damn fast and powerful Sandra was at our first encounter. That chest had to have some sweet loot in it. Sweet loot that all the worst people in the world were getting their grubby hands on.
“These entitled assholes are going to have an advantage none of us regular folk get, and in the long run it’s going to turn ugly. And all the chaos coming down the pipeline only accounts for the human elements. The AI controllers running this system are cutting-edge beyond belief. None of the Overminds are really conscious, thinking beings.” The quest about this very dungeon came to mind. I thought of Sophia, the quest generator, and how she had delivered my rogue code to me, but I waved it away.
“They’re more like forces of nature that maintain the world’s integrity, spawn creatures, create quests—but they’re still dangerous. Really dangerous. I mean, the Overmind responsible for overseeing Serth-Rog and his personal army is run by a repurposed military AI unit. Osmark acquired it from the Chinese military last minute to save time with development. Who knows what that thing might do?”
“Wait,” he said, rubbing at his temples. “Okay, I can believe Osmark Tech might have the ethics code of a Banana Republic Dictatorship, but here’s what I don’t get. Why sell off V.G.O. real estate for IRL money in the first place? The world’s going to end in less than nine days. So, what’s the point?” He was starting to believe me.
“Well, Carrera didn’t actually pay cash.” My hands were getting expressive, and I was trying to talk faster, to get it all out. “Nope, maybe six months before news of the asteroid broke, Carrera selflessly ‘donated’ twenty million worth of essential tech components to help get V.G.O. operational in time.” Jack’s face was starting to look like he was having an aneurysm, but I had to go on.
“He supplied Osmark Tech with colossal amounts of refined indium, gold, silver, copper, platinum, palladium—all essential components in the physical machinery powering V.G.O. He also supplied cheap labor to help at the NextGenVR capsule facility, churning out capsules at a crazy rate. And Carrera’s not the only one, either.”
Here came the best—or worst, depending on how you looked at it—part.
“US politicians railroaded laws allowing Osmark Tech to bypass testing requirements, they rubber-stamped the import of dangerous and restricted materials, plus about a hundred other illegal things. Osmark even got help from NASA to launch his satellite into orbit. And that repurposed AI I told you about? Another ‘donation’ from Chinese military leaders. The amount of supplies and materials to get V.G.O. up and running ahead of schedule were staggering, I’m sure. And I bet my completely worthless life savings there were people lining up around the block, willing to help in return for future kickbacks. I think he’s repaying favors to the powerful people who made V.G.O. possible.”
I sighed and massaged my temples. This whole spiel was making Osmark out to be a demon, and while he was a robotic prick, I did think he had better intentions than “enslave the remnants of the entire human race.” I hoped.
“I want to give my boss the benefit of the doubt and assume he isn’t actually a monstrous asshole. I like to believe he was just doing what he needed to do to save a lot of people”—if we’re lucky, I reminded myself—“but he made some really shady deals to do it. And even if he isn’t a monster, I can’t imagine people like Carrera or the CIA or the KGB are going to be beneficent masters. They’re going to amass power for themselves and be colossal dick heads just like they were in the real world, except there’s not going to be a Constitution or police force to keep them in check.”
Jack put a hand up, squinting his eyes tightly for a moment. “But why go through the quest system? Why not just turn these players into in-world gods right out of the gate? Just program it into the system?” Jack didn’t have the context I did, so it was easy to ask these questions. But the solutions he suggested were just impossible. I had to at least try to explain it.
“It’s complicated,” I started, then noticed the quest timer ticking down in the corner of my vision. Only thirty-two minutes left, and Carrera could arrive at any second. I needed to get him on my side or get him out of here, fast.
“After we brought all of the Overminds online, they closed the system to major changes—they’re calling the shots now. The Devs can only tweak things that’re already consistent with the Overmind directives. Hence using the quest system as a back door.”
Jack bent forward, his dark face pale, then grabbed his knees and panted. That’s just about the reaction I expected, honestly. He was handling it pretty well. I gave him a moment, then placed my hand on his back, rubbing in small circles.
“You okay?”
“Nope.” He gulped back what I assumed was bile. “Not even a little. V.G.O. was supposed to be a safe haven, but if this is true, dying back on Earth might actually be the better option.”
He possibly still had that option, not being more than twenty-four hours in yet. I did not.
“So...” He pushed himself upright, his breathing steady. “What are you suggesting? We’re nobodies, Abby. We don’t have money or connections or powerful friends. What exactly do you think we can do about this?”
I hadn’t been through hell and back to be told I was no one. I would be the greatest Sorceress in Eldgard, damn it.
“We aren’t nobodies, Jack. We know MMOs better than most of the assholes entering this world, and knowledge is power, too. What I’m suggesting is that we get ahead of this shitstorm while we still can.” I turned to face the dungeon entrance. “What I’m suggesting is you and I form our own clan—one that actually has a chance of standing up against the rising powers in this new world, one that can give people like us hope. And we start by stealing whatever’s inside this restricted zone.”
I eyed the dungeon entrance and thought of what could be hiding in the chest below. “Whatever Carrera paid twenty million to get his hands on.”
Jack stood with a “why me” moan and headed to the stone archways. I followed behind, giving him some space. I watched as he mumbled some more, his forehead crease deepening to the point where it might be able to hide a whole peanut butter and jelly sandwich between the folds.
I’d given him enough time to think, and I only had eighteen minutes left. It was now or never, but he still needed to know the dangers, the consequences
. How much of them, though? Should I tell him everything? Sandra too? No, there wasn’t time for that much, but he had to have the choice.
“Before you say anything, before you answer, I just need to tell you that if we do this, there’s no going back.” Except Jack could probably still log out, for at least a few more hours. I was in it for the long haul.
“You need to know that we’re going to buck the system in a big way and potentially make some very powerful enemies with connections and deep pockets. And they’ll come for us. Sooner or later, they’ll come.”
I took a deep breath, prepared for the worst, with only fifteen minutes to go. “Now, what were you going to say?”
“I want to know, why me? This is my life you’re asking me to put on the line,” he huffed, “and I don’t want to be manipulated into being someone’s fall guy. You could’ve picked anyone, but you came to me with this. So I want to know why.”
I bit my lip, considering the truth, or a kind lie. Better go with the truth. “Because I trust you, Jack. And”—I chewed my lip harder, not wanting to admit it—“because I like you.”
Color poked into Jack’s cheeks for the first time in many minutes, and though I was being honest, I knew I’d struck the cord. We’d had a great friendship that never went anywhere. I was really sad about that, honestly.
“And,” I steered the conversation back toward something more relevant, “because you’re the kind of guy who plays a Cleric instead of a glory-seeking warrior or a flashy mage.”
“Wait. What?” The cute blush I’d worked out of him disappeared with his frown. “You picked me because I usually play a Cleric? I don’t understand, not even a little.”
I sighed. “Clerics aren’t about glitz, glamor, flash, or glory. They’re a support class. They end up in the background, and they worry about the success of the team instead of their personal achievement. I thought about reaching out to some of the other guys from the Crimson Alliance.” I name-dropped our old MMO gaming group and saw recognition in his face that smoothed out the grimace.
“But in my gut, I wasn’t sure I could really trust any of them with something this big. At least, not in the beginning. But you’re a good guy, Jack, one who’s always wanted to make a difference. That’s why I worked my magic to ensure you got a capsule well before the news about the asteroid hit.” I remembered begging Osmark to let me ship just the one after our big “town hall” meeting where he clued us in. He finally caved, but not before I had to surrender every waking hour of my life to the cause for the following five weeks.
We locked eyes. Jack’s, terrified. Mine, determined. “Because I wanted you on my team even then. So, what do you say?”
He turned away from me, and I was sure this was it. This was the end. Not just of our friendship, but of the quest. There were nine minutes left to open that door, and I needed an answer.
Then, I got one I wasn’t expecting.
“Alright.” He spun back to me, a gamer’s gleam in his eyes. “I’m in.”
Secret Dungeon
WE GOT THROUGH THE door with only moments to spare, and just as I’d suspected, it was a trap. Within a minute I had a new notification blinking in the corner of my vision, but I didn’t have time to let Sandra get up in my business. We were doing this. Together.
Otto took the lead down the slippery stone slope, with Jack in the middle and me in the back. Jack’s NPC, Cutter, was actually a decent thief. He was invisible somewhere up ahead and, I assumed, scouting the way for us.
Though I was glad Jack was with us, he didn’t have a class, which was extremely concerning. It took me several levels to get Firebrand, but at least I was on the quest. Jack didn’t have one yet, or at least, he didn’t tell me about it. Then again, we hadn’t had much time to catch up before I ushered us through the doors as the quest timer nearly hit 0.
The sloping finally evened out, and seconds later, Cutter, Jack’s NPC, materialized in from the shadows with a finger to his lips. “Unfriendlies, up ahead.”
He went on once we all gathered around. “I disarmed several very nasty traps on the way in—spring-loaded spikes, a plate-triggered flame wall, a ceiling mounted buzz saw big as a horse. Someone definitely does not want visitors—”
“What about the unfriendlies?” Jack interrupted, obviously having a decent relationship with his NPC already.
“Tough.” The thief eyed each of us individually. “Not your typical brainless cave dwellers. These are real guards. Mercs. They’re sitting around the fire gabbin’ and eatin’, but they look dangerous.”
Cutter knelt down. “There’s a trio of plate-armored warriors, nearest to us”—he began tracing a map of the encounter—“a Ranger with a mean looking bow on the left, plus two spellcasters, one might be a Priest or a Warlock of some kind, here and here.”
Cutter paused, then turned directly to me. “What’s the plan, flame-lady?”
Flame lady. I ignored the jab and looked to Otto. He was great with battle plans, and I trusted him. Otto locked eyes with me and nodded; he’d take this.
“We’re going to play this one straight and simple. You and you will Stealth out.” He pointed at Jack and Cutter. “Thief,” he said, his pointing digit lingering on Cutter, “you target the sorcerer.” He looked back to Jack. “Grim Jack, you take the Ranger. I’ll give you both a fifteen count to get into position, then I’ll blunder out and draw their focus.”
Otto made some small marks in the dirt to represent their positions. “Once the fighting begins, Abby will lay down wholesale suppressive firepower. Straight, simple, easy.”
Jack and Cutter stared at Otto, openmouthed, and I could see the color rising in the Risi’s cheeks at their noncompliance.
“Well, don’t just stand there, move.” Otto was great. He snapped them into action, and then the boys were stealthed, and off.
Otto leaned in toward me and whispered, “You think they can do it?”
“Don’t cry,” I said, elbowing Otto, “but we might die.”
We grinned at one another and stood. A tiny pop, and the hawk-like Ranger jerked her head, staring at a spot near the wall. Had to be Jack. He was only level 14, after all, couldn’t ask too much of him. Otto marched forward, and I grabbed at his arm, but couldn’t catch him.
The hostile tanks all moved toward Otto, hands at the hilts of their weapons, but they didn’t attack.
He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “Who are you? How did you get here?” He seemed truly curious, like it was obvious we shouldn’t have been able to be there. But he was expecting a lowbie party, so maybe there was something else I didn’t know we needed.
“You don’t have the seal of Lord Carrera, yet here you are in an area reserved for him. Explain yourselves or perish.”
My mind went back to the lines of code, the ones about a “Loyalty_Seal.” I hadn’t thought they were related, since there was literally no code linking the two—I’d just happened upon it.
Shit.
Well, it was time to do something. I pulled my shawl up around my head, obscuring my face. Maybe I could word our way out of this with the help of my Leader’s Bandolier. I jogged out behind Otto and caught him just before he entered the ring of firelight.
“We are servants of Lord Carrera, the owner of this reserved area.” My voice came out much stronger than I felt, and I was relieved for the false confidence. “I wasn’t told to expect your party, so”—I ran my sweaty palms along Wildfire—“can you please explain what you are doing here? What is the role and function of your group?”
“We’re the mercenaries,” the Warlocky Priest replied, eyes narrowing to slits. “Mercenaries hired to lead Lord Aleixo Carrera through this dungeon, to help him and his party power-level and claim the treasure at the dungeon’s end. That is the nature of our contract.” Just like Verin was hired to help Sandra, these guys were assigned to Carrera.
The potato-sack man continued. “If you are Lord Carrera’s servants, why aren’t you aware of these de
tails?” The tanks drew their weapons at this accusation. This damn belt didn’t seem to do shit in the way of actual negotiation.
“Unless, of course, you are schemers and connivers.” The caster smirked. “Give me the pass code. Now.”
Double shit. Was there a pass code? Was this a trick?
Otto’s battle cry answered the question for me, and I popped a quick Searing Halo to protect myself, then slapped the three leading tanks with a Burning Affliction each. Cutter and Jack sprung into action, Jack landing a first good hit and Cutter disorienting his target. Going good, we weren’t going to die!
I popped off two more Burning Afflictions on the tank Otto wasn’t targeting, then hit him with Leaching Smolder. My Spirit bar climbed like an eager toddler in the kitchen searching for cookies. I smacked the second tank with a fireball, then another, dropping her to 15%. My fire DOT seared into her flesh, taking the remaining HP away.
My heart skipped a beat when I noticed off to the left that Jack was on the ground, his leg and chest slashed, bleeding everywhere. The Health bar above his head flashed, and he scampered back on his elbows, but he was too slow. I wasn’t.
I dashed into range as the Accipiter raised a bloodstained dagger, preparing to strike down my friend. Bullshit. Not this time. I skidded to a halt and opened both palms, praying my spell wouldn’t hurt Jack, and let Inferno Blast rip.
The column of flame rocketed out of my body with a force I’d never known, and a notification popped up.
<<<>>>
Spell Modification: Raging Inferno Blast
You have used Inferno Blast at a time of desperation, modifying the spell with your sheer force of will! When you cast Inferno Blast, you will now use the modified version.
Modification Effect 1: Send a shock wave of hot air out in a dome configuration preceding Inferno Blast. The shock wave will disorient your enemies, interrupt spellcasting, and reduce Stamina regeneration by 20% for 35 seconds.
