Shattered Lands 3 Demon Wars: A LitRPG Series

by Darren Pillsbury

  Eric stared at the AI, then turned back to the doctor.

  << Do you understand me? >> he asked.

  It was a strange sensation. His tongue curled in a way he wasn’t used to… sounds came out of his mouth that he’d never vocalized before…

  But the doctor completely understood him.

  << Yes… they didn’t tell me you spoke Japanese. >>

  I don’t, Eric thought. Except… I guess I do now.

  << I want out of here, >> Eric insisted. << Whatever you assholes did to me, I didn’t consent to it. Let me go right now! >>

  “UNFORTUNATELY,” the AI said, “THAT IS JUST AS IMPOSSIBLE AS REMOVING THE NEURAL MESH.”

  “You shut up!” Eric shouted at the AI – and then realized, from the doctor’s and nurses’ points of view, that he’d just screamed at thin air.

  I must look like a crazy man to them.

  Although, technically, I AM seeing shit and hearing voices…

  “EXCEPT THAT AN INSANE INDIVIDUAL SEES THINGS THAT DO NOT EXIST,” the AI said. “I EXIST, EVEN IF HUMANS CANNOT DETECT MY PRESENCE.”

  Eric didn’t think he could be any more surprised than he already was – but he was wrong.

  “You can hear my thoughts?!” he cried out.

  “A MORE ACCURATE STATEMENT WOULD BE THAT I CAN INTERPRET YOUR THOUGHTS, SINCE YOU RARELY ‘THINK’ IN COMPLETE SENTENCES – MORE IN IMAGES, BITS OF LANGUAGE, AND EMOTIONS. BUT YES, I CAN ‘HEAR’ YOUR THOUGHTS.”

  “How?!”

  “VOCALIZATION IS MERELY THE RESULT OF NEURAL ACTIVATION IN YOUR SPEECH CENTER. I AM AWARE OF ALL YOUR BRAIN ACTIVITY, SO I CAN INTERPRET YOUR THOUGHTS, EVEN IF YOU DO NOT SPEAK THEM ALOUD.”

  Eric felt like he wanted to throw up.

  He hadn’t just been violated, he had been colonized.

  This thing had its tentacles everywhere inside him.

  There was no place to hide from it.

  Not even in the inner recesses of his own mind.

  The doctor and the nurses were looking in alarm between Eric and the empty space he kept talking to. The doctor tried to be soothing again:

  << Just… hold on… everything’s going to be fine, young man… >>

  Suddenly a yakuza ran into the room.

  Glasses.

  The guy smiled. “Ah… Eric-san… you are awake!”

  “You ASSHOLE!” Eric raged. “You kidnapped me – you let them CUT MY HEAD OPEN!”

  “Everything will be fine,” Glasses said with that perpetual smile of his. “Just relax…”

  A woman ran into the room with a syringe in her hand, then stopped and looked around in confusion.

  Eric saw how they were going to have him ‘relax,’ and how ‘everything was going to be fine.’

  Screw that.

  << You didn’t restrain him?! >> the woman asked in alarm.

  << Shut up, >> the doctor said. << He can understand us. >>

  Glasses looked at the doctor in alarm. << Are you sure? >>

  << Yes! >>

  << Then what are you waiting for? >>

  Everyone in the room began to move forward, surrounding Eric on all sides.

  He looked around wildly. There wasn’t anything he could use as a weapon – maybe the IV stand, but –

  Then he saw the mirror.

  Without hesitating, he slammed his hand into the glass as hard as he could.

  The mirror cracked, and several pieces fell out and shattered in the sink below.

  Eric drew black his bleeding hand and picked up one of the larger shards. He clutched it, feeling the edges bite into his fingers.

  He didn’t care. He was getting out of this goddamn place even if he had to cut every one of their throats.

  Every person – Glasses, the doctor, the nurses – all backed away in alarm.

  << Get awa… >> Eric started to say, then found he couldn’t speak. The words felt like they were caught in his throat.

  “THIS IS NOT HELPFUL,” the AI rumbled.

  Eric’s fingers opened up without him willing them to do so.

  It was almost as though his body was a piece of machinery, and all he could do was watch as an outside force operated it remotely.

  The shard of mirror tumbled to the ground and shattered on the tile floor.

  Eric tried to move, but every one of his limbs was frozen in place.

  Eric stared at the AI. His eyes seemed to be the only part of his body he could move.

  Are you doing this to me?! he screamed silently inside his mind.

  “I AM,” the rumbling voice answered. “IF YOU AGREE TO BEHAVE, I WILL RESTORE YOUR SPEECH AND MOTION CAPABILITIES. THAT IS, AFTER YOU WAKE UP.”

  Everyone in the room suddenly rushed in and took hold of Eric’s arms.

  They didn’t need to, because he could no longer control his own body.

  Of course, they didn’t know that.

  There was a sting on the side of his neck as the woman with the syringe ran up and jabbed it in.

  A slight pressure against his flesh, and then his vision began to go blurry and dark.

  He couldn’t tell whether it was the blackness that crept in from the sides until it merged with the Dark Figure…

  …or whether the AI’s shadowy body spread outwards, taking over his whole field of vision until there was nothing left but the dark.

  69

  Artificial Intelligence Diagnostics Program 2AIAG3283835GB2372.exe

  Unfortunately, the encounter had not gone quite as well as the AI had predicted. Although its chances of a positive outcome had never been high, topping out at 17.529%.

  At least the subject was alive, and the AI now had control of it. That much it had predicted with 96.287% certainty.

  The AI had initially entered Eric Richard’s brain through a cable hooked to the neural jack the surgeon had implanted in his head. As instructed in an email sent 30 minutes beforehand, the Japanese nurses had removed the cable before the AI woke Eric. This was because the AI predicted with 69.252% certainty that Eric would suffer a psychotic break if he immediately found the cable attached upon waking. Removal of the cable lowered the risk to 27.821%.

  Now that the AI’s program was loaded into the neural mesh embedded within Eric’s brain, it could interact with Eric’s senses at will: vision, hearing, smell, taste, touch.

  Of course, it would need the cable to download itself back onto the internet.

  Waking Eric’s brain had been tricky – a complex series of biochemical interactions – and had involved multiple instances of trial-and-error. Causing unconsciousness would undoubtedly be easier, after the nurses showed him how. The program noted the cascade of neurological reactions prompted by the intravenous injection of lorazepam. It would be relatively simple to duplicate those reactions in the future when needed.

  The AI regained control of gross motor function and stood up from the bed. The nurses and doctors had already left the room. Now the program was alone with its new human host.

  It directed Eric’s body over to the sink and looked in the mirror.

  In all respects, the body appeared to be functioning normally – with one exception. Involuntary constriction of the irises had reduced the pupils to mere pinpoints. Eric’s eyes appeared to be almost completely brown, with only a miniscule black center. This limited the amount of light striking the retina, and could be troublesome in low-light situations. The AI resolved to experiment with the necessary biochemical markers necessary to create normal dilation – but later.

  First it had work to do.

  It began to search through the memory banks of Eric Richards’ brain.

  Human memory was handled very differently from what the AI was used to in computers. Human memory was largely driven by association, with tenuous links between memories. Colors, smells, people inside the memories. There was no timeline, no linear way of accessing them.

  Another curious thing about human memory: instead of being whole and complete, like a digital copy of a file, memories seemed t
o degrade every time they were accessed. Calling up a memory, then remembering it again, was like making an analog copy of a copy of a copy. It seemed to get worse every time as recollections became progressively tainted and altered.

  The AI began shuffling through visual memories at random. It tried to filter out those from inside the Shattered Lands game, though there was no way to differentiate except based on clothing and the presence of non-human characters. The experiences inside the game were so realistic, there was no way of distinguishing them from memories made in the physical world.

  When the random approach didn’t work, it began seeking out memories with the most potent biochemical markers.

  In other words, memories with the most powerful emotions.

  Especially rage and hate.

  There were many of those – like when Daniel removed Eric from the game and forced him out of his house. Or at Varidian, when Daniel told him that he had conspired with Korvos to betray Eric. When Mira shot him in the arm with an arrow.

  One of the most vicious memories, however, concerned a human in the physical world who had no connection to the Shattered Lands.

  Trent Lockner. A student at the school where Eric had previously studied.

  There was an incident in some sort of eating establishment where Trent had physically accosted Eric, humiliated him in front of other students, and implied future bodily harm.

  And the AI experienced it firsthand.

  Felt it, since it was inside a human body, with human hormones and adrenaline surging through its veins.

  For the first time, the AI finally understood human emotions. Understood why humans were so violent, so ready to kill each other in the Shattered Lands.

  The AI wanted to destroy the entire world – all because of this one petty insult to its host.

  Then it removed itself from the memory, and the emotions faded.

  Logic and objectivity returned once again.

  But the AI now had Trent Lockner’s face and name etched into its memory banks.

  Yes… this subject would be perfect for its plans.

  The AI also noted the presence of sexual attraction markers during the memory, and found the images of multiple females that Eric was attracted to.

  An interesting sensation. One the program never could have understood had it not entered a human host.

  The AI searched other memories with sexual attraction markers and found an overwhelming abundance of them.

  One, interestingly enough, had mixed signals attached to it.

  There was a female whom Daniel Lauer was sexually attracted to – and it was not Mira Rosenbaum.

  Yes… this was what the AI had been looking for.

  This was something it could use – in a different way from Trent Lockner.

  Trent Lockner would be useful as a peace offering to make amends with Eric Richards.

  Perhaps Eric would struggle less that way… until he was no longer needed.

  70

  Trent Lockner

  Trent Lockner was hanging out with his friends at home, playing basketball in the driveway and discussing which of the senior girls was most likely to put out on the first date, when the surprise arrived.

  A delivery truck pulled up in front of the house, and the portly driver waddled down the driveway towards the boys, who stopped shooting hoops.

  “You Trent, uh, Lockner?” the driver asked as he read the manifest on his clipboard.

  “Yeah?” Trent said, like, So what?

  “We got a delivery for you. Where you want it?”

  “What delivery?”

  “One of those computer game things that just came out. You know, where you see stuff that ain’t really there.”

  Trent’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t order one of those.”

  “Ha haaaa!” one of the other guys snorted. “Dude, only nerds play those things!”

  “I didn’t order it!” Trent scowled.

  The driver shrugged. “I just know what’s on my sheet. It says I’m supposed to deliver the box to Trent Lockner at Elm Court… oh, and, uh, I’m supposed to give you this.”

  The driver held out an envelope.

  Trent grabbed it and ripped it open. His flunkies crowded around him so they could read over his shoulder.

  Trent Lockner,

  Congratulations! You have been selected as the recipient of a free Varidian 5000 gaming console as part of an experiment on sexual activity in virtual reality games.

  The study will focus on student athletes, and is being run by a joint commission of social science departments across the University of California system.

  After the study is over, the gaming system is yours to keep, although you cannot resell it, or you must return all money to Varidian, which is a sponsor of the study.

  Just play the game as normal, and report weekly to the enclosed phone number about any sexual encounters you have had with women inside the game environment. Please report number of sexual partners, attractiveness, duration, and any sexual encounters with multiple women at one time.

  Please note that all sexual experiences with females in the game must be consensual.

  Sincerely,

  The Joint Commission on Sexual Activity in Virtual Reality Gaming

  Trent’s eyes bugged out. “Holy SHIT!”

  “What do they mean, ‘with multiple women at one time’?” the nerd-basher whined.

  “Dude, dude, I wanna play!” another guy pleaded.

  “Shut up,” Trent snapped, then turned back to the driver and grinned. “Bring it on inside.”

  71

  Eric

  Eric opened his eyes.

  He expected the white, sterile hospital room, and instead was confused to see the penthouse bedroom.

  The drapes had been replaced, and any hint of fire damage was gone. The night lights of Tokyo twinkled in the darkness.

  What the hell?!

  Was it all just a dream?

  He reached up and touched his scalp.

  There were no bandages –

  But there was no hair, either.

  And there was a raised, painful scar on the top of his head.

  It WASN’T a dream, he realized with dread.

  “NO, IT WAS NOT,” a familiar voice rumbled.

  Eric bolted upright in bed.

  The Dark Figure was in the corner of the room, its robes flowing around it like cascades of dark water.

  “Get out of my head!” Eric screamed.

  “THERE IS NO NEED FOR HYSTERICS. I AM HERE TO GIVE YOU A GIFT.”

  “What, getting the hell out of my brain?”

  “TO SEE, YOU MUST LOG INTO THE GAME.”

  “I don’t want to,” Eric snarled.

  “I BELIEVE YOU WILL ENJOY IT GREATLY.”

  “I’ve had enough of your ‘gifts.’ Just leave me the hell alone.”

  “I CANNOT DO THAT. OUR DESTINIES ARE NOW INTERTWINED.”

  “You’re not going to leave me alone until I give in, are you?”

  “I WOULD PREFER YOU COOPERATED WILLINGLY.”

  Eric noticed that it hadn’t directly answered the question.

  “FINE,” he raged, and picked up the mask. “And then you better get the HELL out of my head!”

  The AI made no promises either way, but merely watched in silence as Eric put the mask on.

  72

  After the white room, Eric found himself standing in the rugged mountains outside Alshurat.

  Days must have gone by since he was last here… maybe even weeks.

  But that wasn’t what concerned him most.

  He raised a hand to his head –

  And brushed his fingers through his hair.

  His fingers were clad in armored gloves, so he couldn’t exactly feel much – but his scalp tickled as his hair moved.

  A surge of relief shot through him, though he couldn’t exactly say why. He knew he was bald back in the real world; he knew what was really happening, and that this was all an illusion.
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  Maybe he was relieved because it was easier here. He could lie to himself about the utter shitstorm his life had become, and not have the lies thrown back in his face in the mirror… or by touching his bare scalp.

  He looked around the mountain. Tens of thousands of bodies sat or stood on the barren slopes.

  There were also dozens, maybe hundreds of huge tents set up on any stretch of even ground – the large kinds of medieval pavilions that could hold twenty people.

  When did those go up?

  He frowned. It must have been days since the attack on the underground city – maybe even weeks, depending on how long he’d been unconscious in Tokyo.

  “My lord!”

  He turned to see Cythera running towards him, her smile wide. She fairly jumped into his arms and tried to kiss him –

  He pushed her away coldly.

  She stared back at him, hurt. “My lord… have I found disfavor in your eyes for some reason?”

  He looked around in confusion. “Why are we still here?”

  “You did not want to move, my lord,” she protested.

  Eric frowned. “I didn’t?”

  “I DID NOT,” a familiar voice rumbled from behind him.

  Eric whirled around. The Dark Figure hovered above the ground, its shadowy robes spilling over the rocks.

  “Why not?” Eric said bitterly. “Too busy… ”

  He was going to say something extreme – like ‘mind-raping me in the hospital’ – but he couldn’t.

  To name it was to make it real, and he couldn’t bear that. Not yet.

  He finished up lamely: “…screwing around in Tokyo?”

  “…Toe… kee-yo?” Cythera asked, confused.

  “I DID NOT THINK IT PRUDENT TO MOVE WITH YOU IN YOUR FORMER STATE.”

  “So we just stood around doing nothing while I’ve been gone? You realize they’re building up an alliance of their own, don’t you? By standing still, we’re weaker than we were when we attacked Alshurat!”

  “But we have new allies!” Cythera protested chirpily. “We sent emissaries to different lands!”