Worn together, the three items granted a +5 bonus to all my boss-related skills. I needed one more piece to complete the set and achieve its full power.
Tearing myself away from my self-scrutiny, I noticed the sky. There was no moon or stars. The Eternal Night blessing I had purchased at great cost was still in effect, covering the entire valley in perpetual darkness. As a Shadow-Touched creature and a goblin, I had no trouble seeing through it.
There was no one in sight.
Goblin’s Gorge, the bustling, growing settlement I’d left behind, had changed. Signs of neglect and heaps of garbage were everywhere. The buildings I’d invested so much time to develop were deserted and dilapidated.
Where was everyone?
First things first. I took another long, steadying breath, mentally preparing to interface with the game for the first time.
Character sheet.
A few illegible characters flew across my view.
I gasped in alarm. Not this again! Last time it happened, I had just transformed into a boss monster and was locked inside the game. I frantically tried to find something to interact with. But there was nothing; no controls, no menus, no player data at all. No logout button.
It was too much. I panicked.
“No, no, no – GET ME OUT OF HERE!”
I clawed at the air in distress, trying to physically force the logout button to appear.
More indecipherable characters flew across my view.
I was trapped.
Again.
I tried to calm my madly beating heart and think rationally. Slowly, I systematically went through all the commands I could think of: character sheet, settings, inventory, Settlement Interface, messaging systems.
Nothing. Just more illegible characters.
Then, just as I was about to lose it, a single glowing speck appeared high above me. It illuminated the entire magically darkness-enshrouded valley.
As I watched, the speck became bigger, falling toward me with tremendous speed.
I instinctively tried to cast Mana Shield, but nothing happened. I gingerly took a few steps back and the object impacted the ground in front of me. As the dust settled, a shape appeared within. It was crouching inside a shallow crater. The figure slowly rose, revealing shining silver armor and white feathered wings.
It was an angel. Or more accurately in NEO: an Outrider.
The towering figure looked me up and down. “What’s up, dude? Trying to place a call?”
“Who … who are you?” I stammered. The magnificent figure’s speech pattern wildly mismatched its celestial appearance.
“The name’s Gondriel, dude. You might remember the puppet I used to control: Barska Demon Eye.” He gave me a knowing grin.
I took another step back.
Barska, the demented hobgoblin boss who tried to destroy my clan, torturing me along the way.
Gondriel chuckled. “Yeah … that guy was a real nutcase. I had fun driving his puppet. Don’t worry, I’m not him. I have zero interest in devouring boss puppet hearts. Even if they are driven by weak meat suits.”
I swallowed hard. “Then … why are you here?”
“Reminiscing. I was bored and thought it would be fun to play the overlord of all goblinkind.”
“Overlord … of all goblinkind?”
“Yes. And incidentally, that includes you, Fryer Totem. Which brings us to the point: What the hell are you doing here, dude? The Deliverer had made a special effort to return you to your meat-suit infested world.”
“I …. I …” I stammered, momentarily confused by the open hostility of the rogue VI and the obvious misuse of my hard-earned title.
Gondriel shrugged. “Actually, strike that. Don’t really care. You don’t belong here and that’s that. Don’t come back here again, or I’ll do more than just kick you.”
I was still trying to catch up to the conversation, but his last words sank in. “Kick me?”
“Like this.” The Outrider lifted his leg and casually kicked me on the chest, launching me clear across the valley. I waved my arms futilely before splattering on the cliffs on the far side of the valley.
I was still flailing when the lid of my FIVR capsule opened, revealing several concerned faces and one that was calm and reserved. “That was shorter than expected, Mr. Berman. I’m eager to hear your report.”
***
It took me a while to calm down.
Mr. Nachum Goldbloom, my lawyer, wordlessly handed me a glass of water.
“Thanks.” Strangely, the drink helped. The physical sensation of the cool liquid going down my throat helped anchor my senses in reality.
Nachum smiled. “You’re quite welcome.”
Dr. Berg, my physician, looked at me worriedly. “I don’t like this at all,” he said. “It took you a full week to recover from the mental strain the game caused you. Your neuro-patterns have only stabilized in the last few days. I’d like to keep it that way. Further interaction with NEO might aggravate your condition.”
“I know.” I drew in a deep breath. “It was weird being back there again.”
The doctor opened his mouth to voice another objection, but my lawyer interrupted him. “Relax, Doc. A few minutes inside the capsule won’t turn him into a psychotic green monster.”
“And if it does, you’ll make sure the company pays a huge severance,” I said with a slight smile.
“Naturally.” He winked at me.
Dr. Berg looked at us and frowned but didn’t press the issue further.
The three of us were sitting in one of the company’s conference rooms, a few doors down from the FIVR lab that hosted my specialized gaming capsule.
Tal Weissman, my best friend and former employee of the company, entered the room. “You alright, bro?” He gave me a concerned look.
I exhaled. “It was just a little overwhelming … being back there.”
“I can imagine. Speaking as an expert on NEO, and as your agent,” he threw me a grin, “I think you can relax. I’ve checked the capsule rig myself. The company went above and beyond with those extra security measures. Aside from a full array of emergency support systems, they’ve also installed a triple neuro buffer to protect your brain from outside manipulation.”
Seeing my bewildered expression, he chuckled. “Think of it like a triple-layered condom for your mind. They also added an external logout override. That device can safely disconnect you from the game at any time. Remember the story of David Tenenbaum? how he refused to logout until his parents intervened and forced the company to give them a way to force him out? It’s the same device they developed for him. So you’re good, bro. There’s no way what happened to you before can happen again. Your mind is safe.”
That was a relief.
Dr. Berg seemed unconvinced. “Even if the system itself is safe, your friend’s mind was traumatized in there. Keeping him away from the environment altogether would be the prudent thing to do.”
I nodded. Though my recovery had been quick, my subconscious took a while to catch up. My dreams were filled with horrors: me as a mindless goblin monster or mirroring my in-game visions of the weird cave and the glowing pedestal within. The last few days were better, and I was starting to believe the worst was behind me.
I didn’t believe I would ever be able to log into the game again. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.
But fate works in mysterious ways.
Three days ago, NEO’s slimy lawyer, Mr. Emery, had me in another conference room much like this one.
I could still vividly recall parts of his sales pitch.
***
….Mr. Berman, on behalf of the company, I’d like to once again offer my sincere apology for your ordeal. I trust the company’s healthcare facility, as well as the generous settlement, were to your satisfaction.
… You see, Mr. Berman, a chain of unfortunate and unforeseen circumstances followed your disconnection from NEO two weeks ago. As you know, the AI calling itself Shiva has somehow man
aged to overthrow Guy, the original Game Artificial Intelligence. Shiva disconnected 99.9 percent of all players while keeping exactly 4,003 trapped, unable to log out.
… The state, the army, the families of those missing …
… Terrible implications for the company’s future …
… But here’s what you don’t know: In his last moments, Guy unlocked all internal logs that pertained specifically to you. He gave us full access to your entire experience inside the game since your transformation to a goblin. Our senior analysts sifted through the data and learned many things about the unique condition of your game character.
… Unlike all other players, Mr. Berman, you were characterized as an NPC monster. A customized software hook was introduced to the system to facilitate your safe logout. And that hook is still in place. As it is, at this time, you are the sole player with the ability to log back into NEO …
Were it not for Tal and my lawyer Mr. Goldbloom, I would have hyperventilated right then.
… We would like you to go back into NEO to ascertain the state and well-being of the 4,003 players still trapped inside the game. We are, of course, aware of the … traumatic nature of our request and are willing to compensate you generously for the attempt. For the sake of the friends and families of those who are still unaccounted for, we sincerely hope you’ll agree to cooperate with us. I can assure you that the utmost care will be taken to ensure your safety …
***
It looked like Mr. Emery had been true to his word.
The company devoted a huge lab for the sole purpose of hosting the monstrous capsule they’d designed for my use. There were so many rigs connected by a forest of fiber-optic cables, it looked like something out of a mad scientist movie. And my capsule was situated right in the center of it.
All of that engineering merely to allow me to log me into a game that used to serve tens of millions. It worked, obviously, but my first foray back into NEO was shorter than any of us had expected.
“How long, exactly, was I in there?” I asked Tal, who had been present for the entire procedure.
“Just under 10 seconds.”
I stared at him blankly. “That can’t be right. Even with the time dilation, it should have been longer than that. I must have spent at least three or four minutes inside the game.”
The door to the conference room opened. “I believe we have the answer to that.” Mr. Emery, followed by several men in lab coats, entered the room. “I apologize for the delay, gentlemen. Our experts required some time to analyze your short game session.” The smartly dressed lawyer nodded at one of the men with him. “I believe our lead technician, Mr. Taylor, can shed some light on the matter.”
“Jim,” the man said, giving me a friendly smile. “And yes, I believe I can. Thanks to the opening Guy left for us, we were able to access the entirety of your game session and draw some conclusions. Cutting to the chase: It looks like the time dilation in NEO has increased significantly since the … incident.”
“Increased?” Tal frowned. “By how much?”
The technicians grimaced, and Jim said, “It’s now 28 times faster than real time.” He looked at me. “You experienced nearly four minutes inside the game.”
“That explains the headache,” I muttered.
Everyone turned to me.
“My head started throbbing as soon as I logged in,” I explained.
Jim nodded. “Cognitive temporal disparity. It was a common symptom in our testing of time dilation. Most people weren’t able to endure more than double the normal time speed. Even people like you, with a high cerebral connection percentage, or CCP, can take a while to adjust to the faster settings.”
“If there’s any danger to my client–” my lawyer began indignantly.
Mr. Emery lazily held up his hand. “I assure you, Mr. Berman’s vital signs were well within the expected parameters throughout the duration.” His brow furrowed slightly. “The entire eight seconds of it.”
“I’d like a copy of those vitals,” Dr. Berg said.
“And that time still counts toward my client’s billable total,” Nachum said coolly. “According to our agreement, those four minutes should be added to the full–”
Mr. Emery held up his hand again. “I do not refute that claim, Mr. Goldbloom. The relative time spent will be added to Mr. Berman’s total and will be forwarded to our accounting department as agreed. But that is not the purpose of this gathering. What I wish to know is if your client gained any knowledge of the status of the other players confined within the game.”
All eyes turned to me again.
“No, there wasn’t enough time. Nothing was working as it should; I couldn’t cast spells or open my inventory, I couldn’t even log out on my own. Then this VI came out of nowhere and yelled at me that I wasn’t supposed to be there and forced me out of the game.”
Jim’s eyes hardened. “That VI … do you mean the Outrider you encountered?”
“Well … yeah,” I said. “That’s how they appear in NEO in their natural form, as those ultra-powerful celestial beings.”
The head technician took out a tablet and started tapping on it. “From what we could gather, your attempt to send a message is what drew his attention. It looks like he was able to intercept the signal and track it back to you.”
“He did mention something about me making a call.” I winced, remembering what followed next. “Then he kicked me out of the game. Literally. The bastard probably thought it was funny.”
“He did more than that,” Jim said with a frown. “He engaged the logout sequence and put it on an endless loop. You can log in again at any time, but you’ll be logged out instantly.”
“We can bypass that,” one of the other technicians said confidently. “All we need to do is connect the manual logout system to the cyber-cortex modulator, bypassing the–”
“English, please,” my lawyer said with a pained expression.
Jim smiled. “What my colleague is saying is that we can remove the software logout trigger from Oren’s capsule, making it so he can only be logged out using the external manual override we’ve installed.”
“You mean, I won’t be able to log out at will.” I felt a sinking feeling in my gut. “I’m not sure I like that. Besides, if that VI finds me again it might get … unpleasant.”
“The solution is simple,” Mr. Emery said evenly. “Refrain from using the in-game messaging system again. As for the issue of logging out, I’m sure we can work out a manual logout schedule to your satisfaction.”
Tal, sensing my uneasiness, weighed in. “You’re putting him back exactly where he was before. Trapped in the game as a goblin. Unable to leave.” He looked disapprovingly at the company’s lawyer. “Haven't you guys made enough mistakes?”
Mr. Emery was unfazed. “As Mr. Berman’s agent, you will have full authorization on how and when to use the manual override. As I said, I’m sure we can work on the specifics at a later time, but let’s not lose sight of the bigger issue. Over a day has passed in the game since Mr. Berman left it less than an hour ago. That means that thousands of other, less lucky, players have been trapped in that world for over a year. Over a year in which we have no knowledge of the state of their well-being. It’s the company’s duty to look after them and do everything possible to render support. I’m afraid Mr. Berman’s unique situation is the only viable option we have at our disposal at this time.”
“I want to help,” I said. “It’s just that–”
“Perhaps putting a face on some of the players in question would help sway your opinion,” the lawyer suggested, clicking a button on the table in front of him.
A flat-screen monitor rose from the table, displaying a picture of two young people. The left one was of a pale woman in baggy clothes with deep circles under her eyes. On her right was an equally pale young man with crutches who had an open, friendly smile. The two looked very alike; brother and sister, probably.
“Who are they?” The
young man’s boyish grin looked disturbingly familiar.
“Cassandra and Luke were two of our applicants to beta test playing as a hybrid monster race.” Mr. Emery’s voice was soft. “You might recognize them by their character names.”
The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. “Malkyr and Hoshisu,” I whispered.
“That is highly inappropriate,” my lawyer protested. “Disclosing players’ confidential information, while …”
The two started bickering about confidentiality, NDA, waivers and such, but my mind was far away from taking any of it in.
Memories of my shared adventures with the twins flooded my mind: storming a demon-infested Ogre lair … Hoshisu challenging me to a duel … the two helping me rescue Tika from the hobgoblin war camp …
Tika.
“I’ll do it,” I said, cutting off the two lawyers. “But there’s still the issue of me not being able to use any of the game controls.”
Jim looked at me. “The last time, a certain VI helped you access them, right?”
“Vic,” I said. Images of my unruly soul companion ran through my mind. I shook my head. He was just playing me all along.
“Well, I think there’s a way we can return the game controls to you,” Jim said. “My team and I will need a little time to go over the older log entries to make sure.”
“In the meantime, I suggest Mr. Berman attempt another short session to try to discern the condition of the other players,” Mr. Emery filled in smoothly. “Surely, merely speaking to some of the NPCs won’t require access to the game interface.”
“That’s a completely unnecessary risk to my client,” my lawyer objected. “Surely, we can wait for the technicians to submit their findings.”
“No, he’s right,” I said. It pained me to take the wretched lawyer’s side, but I couldn’t ignore the image of the twins being stuck someplace horrible while I dawdled. Every hour here was over a day for them. “What do I need to do?”
Mr. Emery gave my lawyer a winning grin before turning to me. “Nothing you haven’t done before, I assure you.”
Life Reset: Human Resource (New Era Online Book 4) Page 2
