by E. M. Hardy
He smelled the takeout they brought up with them in the elevator, and that’s when Glenn discovered that hungry and horny was not a pleasant combination.
The hunger in his stomach seemed to travel down lower and lower, leaving a burning sensation in between his pelvis and abdomen. It was a weak burn, not intense enough to be called pain, but it grated on Glenn’s nerves nonetheless.
He finally arrived inside his empty apartment, frustrated and irritated. He considered going back to the cyber-doctor’s clinic for a check-up, but felt compelled to drop the issue when the thought of revealing his history came up. He couldn’t risk her, after all—even if he didn’t quite remember everything about her in the first place, didn’t even know why it was so important he keep her secret.
(Because you’re a good boy, and good boys keep secrets.)
Glenn ignored the strange thought worming around inside his mind. It had been years since he last saw her—since he last even thought about her… so why now? Why were these memories suddenly popping up?
He shook his head in frustration, deciding to placate his hunger.
Computer, prepare—
Glenn grunted, canceling his mental command mid-thought when he remembered his implant was still working in safe mode and running diagnostics. He huffed out his frustration and walked up to his oven, working the manual interface to serve up another glass of slurry.
One glass of barbecued chicken slush later, and Glenn couldn’t help but impatiently pace around his place. He was still hungry, and now his erection just refused to go away. No amount of deep breathing, mental arithmetic, or cold showers made it disappear. It just sat there… or in this case, just stood there tenting his boxer shorts.
Frustrated as can be, Glenn checked on the status of his implant. Maybe playing a little Five Wars would help him relax enough to put his boner down. Or maybe booting up a couple adult scenarios to ease the pressure. He just needed to remind himself to put on a condom before going into an implant coma, or at least wear one of his old boxers that needed to be washed anyway.
ImmerCorp Alter version 10.3.98b
-Safe Mode-
Running diagnostics: 42/83 tests remaining…
Progress of current test: 76% complete…
Warning!
Your ImmerCorp implant is currently in safe mode while running post-reset diagnostics. If possible, ImmerCorp strongly recommends avoiding the use of your implant until these diagnostics are completed. Thank you for your understanding.
Glenn chewed on his lip, the dual sensations of hunger and horniness gnawing away at his patience. What started as a mild annoyance early in the morning gradually devolved into gnashing frustration at the sheer need to eat and screw. It was like every strand of his being screamed at him to do something about his cravings.
“Fuck it,” Glenn mumbled to himself, finally losing patience. “I can always run those tests later on.”
Glenn settled into his bed, eager to disconnect himself from the real world and dive into the alt-world. He brought up his HUD.
ImmerCorp Alter version 10.3.98b
-Safe Mode-
Canceling diagnostic tests…
Rebooting…
ImmerCorp Alter 10
Welcome back, Glenn!
Connecting to the Alter-World…
One moment he was in the real world, doing everything he could to ignore the tight, cramping sensation between his groin and pelvis. The next he was plunged into the sterile clarity of his alt-world lobby. It emulated his room: clean, tidy, devoid of clutter, and containing only what he needed.
One portal led to his workplace, the customer support suite of Immentrop-Reubens Robotics. It was his job to talk to people experiencing problems with their robots, guide them through the troubleshooting process. It was something that an AI could do, to be completely honest. One such AI companion listened in on his talks with clients, bringing up reference materials as its algorithms sorted out the issues while clients went on with their explanation. Customer support, however, was one of those things that was made all the more special with a human touch—which was where people like Glenn Olson came in.
Another portal led to Nexperience, a theater with a selection of both passive and interactive experiences. Music, movies, memes, live streams—these were the go-to experiences when Glenn felt tired and just wanted to let things happen. Role inserts, alter-concerts, e-tours, simulations—these were his picks for interactive experiences that required active participation on his part.
Yet another portal led to Glenn’s game of choice: Five Wars Online. A massively-multiplayer online role-playing game, Five Wars pitted five different player factions against one another in a sprawling continent. The game was realistic enough to give players an immersive challenge, but gamified enough to leave a sense of progress and empowerment.
Glenn wasn’t much into PVP, however. He just liked the simple mechanics of the leveling process, providing a nice balance of grind and advancement. This was why Glenn picked the Alliance of Light as his faction of choice, playing as a relic-wielding Bishop that used prayers and auras to assist his allies and debuff his enemies.
And the last portal was—
“Wait a minute,” Glenn’s blank avatar spoke out in the middle of his blank lobby. “Computer, what is this app called Ynnistoria?”
Computer: Unable to process query, Glenn. App “Ynnistoria” is unrecognized. Search engines report zero results for app “Ynnistoria.”
“Zero results?” Glenn furrowed his brows as he pondered the matter. Very few single-word terms came up with zero results over a search engine—especially a strange app that appeared in his alt-world lobby.
“Computer, run anti-malware scan on app Ynnistoria.”
Computer: Unable to comply, Glenn. The ImmerCorp Anti-Malware Suite cannot be found.
“Say what?”
Computer: The ImmerCorp Anti-Malware Suite cannot be found.
Glenn huffed his frustration, his blank avatar rubbing its featureless chin as he studied the app labeled Ynnistoria. He could just delete the program… except he didn’t know what purpose it served. Maybe it was something that his implant failed to download, or maybe it was a new piece of software that ImmerCorp bundled in with its latest version of Alter 10.
Or maybe it was a virus that would screw him over if he opened it without an Anti-Malware Suite shielding his implant.
The smart thing to do would be to log out of the alter-world, reboot his implant in safe mode, and let it continue running its diagnostics. It would detect the absence of the Anti-Malware Suite, reinstall it, and solve all his problems in one go.
Except he still felt the odd hunger gnawing away at his stomach and pelvis.
This wasn’t supposed to be happening. A synaptic implant should override the nervous system, replace his body’s real-world sensations with artificial ones manufactured in the alter-world. His implant’s bio-monitor would send a notice if his physical body was hungry or thirsty, and automatically log him out if he was starving or dehydrated.
This was the entire reason he aborted his implant’s diagnostics. He wanted an escape from that unnaturally pervasive hunger, and yet it still chased him into the alter-world.
Which is why he turned away from the mysterious app and made to enter the world of Five Wars Online to distract himself. He planned to auto-match with a party of random players looking for a healer, run a few shallow dungeons to take his mind off the hunger.
The only problem, however, was that the hunger intensified when he walked up to the Five Wars portal. It crossed the threshold from mild annoyance to nagging cramp that almost made him double over with its suddenness.
Glenn groaned, his voice echoing in the sterile emptiness of his alt-world lobby. The urge lessened, however, as he turned to face the portal labeled Ynnistoria. One step closer, it weakened. Three steps closer, and it weakened even furthe
r. Two steps back, and the cramping caused him to gasp in shock and pain.
That was when Glenn realized that his implant was well and truly busted.
“Are you kidding me?” he complained to no one in particular. His implant’s computer kept silent, having long recognized when its user was asking a rhetorical question.
Glenn strode right up to the Ynnistoria portal, inhaled deeply, and stepped through. He expected something horrible to happen, like a virus eating away at his implant and causing his alt-world lobby to come crashing down. Or maybe a ransomware pop-up demanding untraceable crypto currency within the next 24 hours if he didn’t want his chip to explode inside his brain.
He didn’t expect the portal to just vanish into thin air.
Glenn waited for the other shoe to drop. One minute, two minutes, three whole minutes… still nothing.
He huffed in relief and annoyance, wondering what all that was about, when he decided to consult his computer.
“Computer, is there anything abnormal with my implant? Anything I should be worried about?”
Ynnistoria: One moment, Glenn. Running a quick surface diagnostics check.
Ynnistoria: One major issue detected. Your life points are dangerously low.
“My life points? Computer, what do you mean by life points?”
Ynnistoria: Might I recommend pulling up your HUD, Glenn? You should have a new menu that might help you better understand your current status.
“Wait a minute… Ynnistoria?”
Ynnistoria: Yes, Glenn? How may I help you?
And that’s when he finally got the full picture: Ynnistoria must be ImmerCorp’s latest digital assistant.
“Ynnistoria, change voice command identifier to ‘Computer.’”
Ynnistoria: You are already using ‘Computer’ as your voice command identifier, Glenn.
Glenn hummed, spending a moment to think about the proper command. “Ynnistoria… err, Computer, change digital assistant label from ‘Ynnistoria’ to ‘Computer.’”
Ynnistoria: Unable to comply, Glenn. I cannot change who and what I am.
He pulled a face. Either ImmerCorp went back on their policy of customization, locking in the names of their new digital assistant, or there really was something wrong with this.
“Never mind. I… guess I can live with you calling yourself by your name.”
Ynnistoria: I am glad to hear that, Glenn.
He winced at the familiarity. He wanted an impersonal assistant, one that just got the job done instead of having to deal with emulated quirks and personas.
One thing he appreciated about Five Wars Online was that the game kept its NPCs dumb and quiet, reduced them to mindless mobs instead of going for sapient NPCs like in the newer VRMMORPGs.
He really didn’t like the idea of slaughtering thinking, feeling beings after all—even if they were artificial intelligences playing a designated role.
Nonetheless, he followed Ynnistoria’s advice and opened his HUD. Everything was as it should be, from his contact lists and message logs to his bio-monitor and calendar listings. All except for one icon—a crystalline orb filled with some kind of black, swirling liquid.
He sent a mental command to open the icon, check its contents, and was greeted with a rather familiar menu:
Glenn Olson
Fledgling Incubus
Life Points
258/2,200
Mana Points
0/0
Strength
6
Vitality
6
Dexterity
7
Perception
12
Intelligence
13
Cunning
11
Spirit
0*
Willpower
4*
Affinity (Demonic)
16
*Penalized by Broken status effect
Fledgling Incubus Skills
Phase
Active Skill—turns you immaterial for 3 seconds, allowing you to walk through solid matter for the duration (50 life points or 50 mana points)
Shapeshift
Active Skill—transform between human and incubus forms (100 life points)
Dream Cage
Active Skill—allows you to inflict sleep paralysis in sleeping victims. Lasts between 1 to 60 minutes depending on your target’s Willpower and Perception (50 life points or 50 mana points, Requires Incubus Form)
Enthrall
Active Skill—disables higher cognitive functions of victims and makes them more receptive to your commands. Permanent, but victims can resist if their Willpower surpasses your own (500 life points, requires Incubus Form)
Hunt
Active Skill—outlines humanoid auras within a 100-foot radius for 30 seconds. Also allows you to identify high-value victims that grant bonus Life Points when drained via Ravage (50 life points or 50 mana points, Requires Incubus Form)
Drain Life
Active Skill—channeling skill that absorbs 10 life points per second from a target. Also lowers target’s vitality by 0.1% every second as long as the skill is being channeled (requires Incubus Form)
Ravage
Passive Skill—absorb 25% of a target’s total Life Points when you orgasm during coitus with the target (requires Incubus Form)
Active Skill—activating Ravage during coitus will absorb 100% of the target’s total Life Points when you orgasm, instantly killing the target and gaining an additional 1,000% Life Point bonus from the act (requires Incubus Form)
Glenn gawked stupidly at the menu before him. It was just like the character sheet in Five Wars Online, save for the class skills before him. He focused on the various options in his menu, willing tooltips to appear and help explain what, exactly, he was looking at.
“Hey, Computer, what’s up with that Broken status eff—?”
(You are a good boy, and good boys cover their eyes and ears when they’re told to. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?)
“Abort that last command, Computer.”
Ynnistoria: I am just guessing here, Glenn, but the Broken status effect appears to be ♓◼♐⚫♓♍⧫♏♎ ♌⮹ ♋◼ ◆◼
