by Ben Ormstad
Hiko flicked the tiny chip he was holding up in the air and caught it again. “I hope you are right, Mr. Walsh. I would not mind becoming a little stronger or smarter. Or even a better hoarder.”
We all looked at him as I said: “A better hoarder?”
“Indeed. My Personal Specialty is Hoarding. I would very much like to become even more efficient at searching, finding and storing things.”
“Hah!” Frida exclaimed. “So that explains how you were able to find the secret storage room and fill it up, even while being so low-leveled.”
“Yes, Ms. Erikson. I assumed that was obvious.”
Gurdy returned with a small container of brushed metal in one hand. Placed it on the workbench, opened it and revealed a cluster of green computer chips. “Ten translation devices to bring wit’ ya.”
“Thank you so much,” Frida said. “How much do I owe you?”
Gurdy lifted both hands in front of her chest, creating an illusory shield. “Not even one speck of rat fat, missy!”
“What? Why?”
“I ain’t sellin’ ‘em to ya,” Gurdy said. “They’re provided free of charge, since ya dealt with da ‘norgs. And I’ll even implant da chips you’ve been lookin’ at. Also free of charge. Come on, join me in da back and I’ll get ya all upgraded!”
We joined Gurdy to ‘da back’, where she stored the necessary equipment to implant the translation chips into our brains. The implanter looked like a thin-barreled handgun. None of us were especially fond of getting our heads strapped to the back of a chair while she placed the muzzle on our temples and fired. One after the other, we twitched violently as the chip was shot into our brains with a force powerful enough to penetrate our skulls.
Once done, Gurdy informed us that the chip came pre-programmed with most known languages. She put away the implanter, clapped her hands and said: “Da chips are already activated, so you’re all set. Now, Annie told me ya got bedrooms awaiting in da community hotel. I wish ya a mighty good time. Feel free to visit again if ya wanna!”
We thanked her and headed out. The hotel was a large dilapidated building next to the community hospital. A blinking neon-sign welcoming new guests hung above the front door – reminding me more of a shabby Las Vegas casino / strip joint than a hotel, but it turned out to be real cozy inside. Draped in fluffy carpets, shaded wall lamps, and furnished with sofas and tables in the foyer.
The receptionist, another mishap with tentacle arms, greeted us and delivered the keys to our rooms.
Hiko looked at us. “I am not very good at managing my stats and such. Perhaps we could take a few minutes here in the foyer to do it together, before going to our rooms? In case I need some help, that is.”
“No problem,” I said and went straight to the biggest, softest-looking armchair in the foyer, beside a large window showing the street outside. “I’m not too pro myself yet, so I suggest asking Frida if there’s anything.”
And with that, I sat down and closed my eyes. Finally, I was itching like a drug addict to do some stats-maintenance. Leaning my head against the chair and taking a deep breath, I instructed the game via my mind: Show me the most significant withheld notifications, like enemies killed, abilities gained and XP earned. Leave out ammo, scrap, consumables and the likes.
*
Killed 8 Daemonorg Grunts – Level 2
+160 XP
*
Killed 5 Daemonorg Troopers – Level 3
+150 XP
*
Killed 2 Bio-Drone Screamers – Level 4
+80 XP
*
CONGRATULATIONS
You’ve gathered 2500 experience points and may upgrade to Level 5!
Find a resting place to level up and manage your stats.
*
Killed 1 Daemonorg Pulverizer – Level 7
+70 XP
*
Battle-Marine Abilities Increased!
+2% Melee Weapons Bonus
+1% Throwing Weapons Bonus
+3% Ranged Weapons Bonus
*
COMPLETED QUEST
LOCATE GENETIC RE-ASSEMBLER PARTS – COMPLETED 3 OF 3
+1000 XP
+500 Cash
*
It was a decent list of accomplishments, but disappointment from only receiving 70 measly XP for taking out the huge Pulverizer overshadowed most of the joy. Like, what the fuck? Couldn’t the game designers at the very least reward us double the XP for big-ass bosses like that? Did that mean there would always be a one-to-one relationship between an enemy’s level and the amount of XP received? Why not just harvest seven grunts instead, then?
This game is something else, I thought grimly while bringing up the Character Statistics screen. A new message appeared in front of it with a swoosh:
In total, you have accumulated 3500 experience points. Do you want to use XP in order to level up your character?
If yes, how much?
I scratched the stubble on my chin as I pushed away the disappointment. Considered how much XP I should use to Level up, and how much to add to the Unbound XP Stash. The less I added to the unbound stash, the quicker I’d be able to reach the next Level. On the other hand, we had finally reached a place with a marketplace, and I remembered the game advised players to keep a decent amount of unbound XP in case it would be needed for whatever potentially important and/or awesome reason.
Checking the leveling chart, I saw Level 6 required 5000 XP. In other words, the double of Level 5. Hence, no matter what I chose, I wouldn’t be reaching Level 6 in a long time, anyway.
Okay, I thought and brought myself back on track. I’d like to leave 3300 XP in my growth cycle, for leveling, and keep the remaining XP free, unbound.
3300 XP implemented in the character’s growth cycle.
+200 XP added to the Unbound XP Stash
You upgraded your character from Level 4 to Level 5.
Leveling Bonus:
+3 Universal Ability Points
+3% Class Specific Ability Increase
+3% Personal Specialty Increase
+10 Health / Magic Points
Oh, goodies! I thought and mentally rubbed my hands together in joyful anticipation.
Beginning by assigning the Universal Ability points, I figured it would be smart to prepare for various interactions with potentially vastly different people as time moved on. Thus, I chose to put two points into Charisma, pumping it up to 3. And placed the last point in Awareness, as I thought that might play well with my personal specialties. Hence, increasing Awareness to 2.
Following this, I placed two points in my Personal Specialty Lucidity, and one point in Sensing – increasing them to 8% and 18%, respectively.
Moving on to Class Specific abilities, I wanted to just increase all of ‘em by multiple orders of magnitude. Simply put, I wanted to become the awesomest Battle-Marine to ever be awesome! But of course, I had only three percent to use as of now. Since my Ranged and Melee Weapon abilities were at 15% and 10%, I figured the two remaining should be the focus. Therefore, I put 1% in the newest ability – Self-Induced Aggression, bumping it up to 3%, and allocated the last two percent to Throwing Weapons, which got it up to an even 10%.
Lastly, I split the HP and MP increase 50/50 and thereby increasing both with 5 points.
Feeling pretty damn good about everything, I took a last overview of my stats’ status quo:
[ CHARACTER STATISTICS ]
DEX WALSH - Battle-Marine
Level 5 – XP : 3300
Next level : 5000
Unbound XP Stash : 510
HP / MP
125 / 125 [+0 - FL-Armor] HP
55 / 55 [+0 - FL-Armor] MP
ARMOR
Battle-Marine Front Line Body Armor [ BRONZE ] : 0 Armor
Universal Abilities
— Strength : 3
— Awareness : 2
— Speed : 3
— Agility : 3
— Focus : 1
— S
tamina : 3
— Communication : 3
— Charisma : 3
— Learnability : 2
Battle-Marine Abilities
— Melee Weapons : 10%
— Throwing Weapons : 10%
— Ranged Weapons : 15%
— Self-Induced Aggression (req. 1 MP per 2 seconds) : 3%
Personal Specialties
— Sensing : 18%
— Lucidity : 8%
Character States
–– ––
It looked good. It really did. Except that I still had to find a way to fix the FL-Armor. Nevertheless, the rate at which abilities and levels increased was rapid enough to keep me constantly interested. Also, it was frikkin’ byooootiful to not see the poisoned status anymore!
When I opened my eyes, the others had already left. How long had I been busy leveling up? Surprised I hadn’t noticed them leaving, I snickered and headed for my room.
41
I closed the door to my hotel room, dimmed the lights and put my backpack next to the sideboard. Then placed the FL-Armor, ammo belt, pouches and weapons on top.
Feeling a good lightness in my virtual body, I let out a sigh of relief and stood for a moment watching myself in the wall-mounted mirror above the sideboard. Despite of all the crazy shit I’d been through since first spawning, the character looked just as sharp and ready as the second I created him.
My thoughts drifted to my wife. I half-smiled thinking what would have happened if I actually went through with creating her during the character creation. I shook my head. It would be so wrong. Still, funny, in a way. And sad. Fucking horrendous, actually, as I thought more about it. Then, out of the blue, an idea hit me:
What if, I thought as goosebumps made the hairs on my neck and arms stand on end. What if it’s possible to design characters in-game and have them join the party as NPCs?
A sting of twisted hope flared in my gut.
I would be able to recreate Lara… I could experience her again, as if real. In this reality. Holy shit.
My heart beat faster, harder. The implications of it made me dizzy. It was both incredibly alluring and insanely crazy, sick – like a form of Frankenstein-spouse.
Who in their right mind would recreate their dead wife in a virtual reality to be with her again? Only a degenerate, twisted person would do something like that.
Staring at my own horrified expression in the mirror, I whispered: “And maybe… I.”
A knock at the door ripped me out of the insanity. I cleared my voice and said: “Yeah?”
Frida stuck her beautiful face in. White hair hung down her smooth cheeks and ran past her shoulders. “Busy?”
“No, not at all.” I waved her in.
She closed the door and leaned on the sideboard, facing me. An aroma of cherries and strawberries wafted from her, matching her amaranth red lips.
“What’s up?”
“You know,” she said in a low voice, and stared at the bundled FL-Armor that rested on the sideboard. “I just feel like this is the end, in a way.”
“Uh, the end?”
She crossed her legs and folded her hands. “Yes, because we successfully helped Ayamii deliver the parts, and I’ve got what I came for.” She looked up at me, half smiling. “By sheer luck, you even wound up finding Darius’ hidden stash. So it all worked out, just like we hoped it would.”
“Yeah, but I still don’t see what any of this has to do with the ‘end’ you’re talking about?” I squinted to make it seem like I didn’t understand what she hinted at – because, frankly, she was spewing bullshit.
“Dex,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t you think it’s time we went our separate ways?”
I pulled away from her hand. “No.”
“You don’t?” A look of puzzlement colored her expression.
“Of course not. We make a great team.”
“But didn’t you agree to meet up with Darius when you get out of the prison-lab?”
“Sure,” I said. “At the Godmadrigan army’s main base in the Dead-Rock Highlands. What’s your point?”
She kicked at some invisible dirt on the carpeted floor. “Well, you will do that, and I must return to the warrior-medics with the DirectTranslate chips.”
“I still don’t see the problem,” I said, shrugging. “Let’s just officially create a group and do all of it. Hiko will probably join as well. And Ayamii being a True Ally, he’ll pretty much do anything I ask – even on his own! He’ll be a great asset to our group.” I waved both hands and added in a humorous, Italian-Spanish-wannabe tone: “So waddaya say? Mi groupa, es su groupa, si, eh?”
Giggling like a little girl, she hit my shoulder and bit her lower lip. “Okay, Dex, if you really don’t think it’ll be too much hassle, and you’ll join me back to the village so I can continue the next step of my training, then yes, I accept,” she said, before lifting a manicured finger in the air between us. “Buuut, only on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“That neither I, you nor anyone else who might join us, are bound to always follow the group. We must be allowed to do things on our own from time to time.”
“Sure, goes without saying,” I said and smiled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
We shook on it and agreed to officially join forces once we reached either the godmadrigan army’s main base or her village. She said both of those places would house counselors licensed to fuse bonds between Players wishing to form solid bonds as a group which, among others, meant we’d be able to share resources like Cash, Consumables and Scrap with each other. I looked forward to it, as it would open up new ways of interacting.
“By the way,” I said as she was on her way out. “Ever heard of the Celestial Cloakers?”
Her eyes flicked open in a micro-expression, before retracting back to their normal size. “Indeed. As an EIA the Celestial Aliens are one of the alien races I’ll be communicating with. In fact,” she said while leaving through the doorway: “I’m scheduled to meet up with them once I exit the prison-lab.”
“Are you serious?” My voice trailed after her as she stepped into the hallway outside. “They hate our guts!”
“Yes, but they hate the daemonorgs more,” she said and left. The clacking of her boots disappeared down the stairs to the hotel’s foyer.
So that’s her mission, huh. Shit. I grit my teeth at the thought of facing the cloakers again. Remembering the raspy voice of the one who entered my cell to kill me still sent shivers through my spine.
I closed my door and snorted. The hell was I afraid of? After all, I had destroyed them as a five minute old, Level 0 noob.
So what do you think I’ll do to ya now, cloak-fuckers?
To be continued…
Thank You For Reading!
Thanks for reading this book! That goes to my beta readers, too - I appreciate every single one of you and your valuable feedback. A special thanks to Jan Kaleta, Dustin Tiny Rhoades, Thomas Glenn Hill, Darren Pearce and David Harbour.
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About the Author
Ben Ormstad has a bachelor’s degree in Psychology, plus a technical degree in 3D Game Design. He had seven Norwegian novels published before deciding to mainly focus on writing in English, as well as a number of short stories, essays and articles printed in various magazines, newspapers and websites.
