Awaken Online: Catharsis

by Travis Bagwell

  Awaken Online

  Book 1: Catharsis

  ______________

  Travis Bagwell

  Copyright © 2016 by Travis Bagwell

  All rights reserved.

  ______

  To my wife, for putting up with my bullshit.

  ______

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 - Late

  Chapter 2 - Distracted

  Chapter 3 - Accused

  Chapter 4 - Measured

  Chapter 5 - Infamous

  Chapter 6 - Courageous

  Chapter 7 - Resplendent

  Chapter 8 - Grave

  Chapter 9 - Arcane

  Chapter 10 - Studious

  Chapter 11 - Inquisitive

  Chapter 12 - Grisly

  Chapter 13 - Decisive

  Chapter 14 - Withered

  Chapter 15 - Nomadic

  Chapter 16 - Prepared

  Chapter 17 - Subtle

  Chapter 18 - Vague

  Chapter 19 - Searing

  Chapter 20 - Recurring

  Chapter 21 - Reborn

  Chapter 22 - Resolved

  Chapter 23 - Advisory

  Chapter 24 - Armed

  Chapter 25 - Creative

  Chapter 26 - Mended

  Chapter 27 - Slaughtered

  Chapter 28 - Massive

  Chapter 29 - Grotesque

  Chapter 30 - Cathartic

  Chapter 31 - Recovering

  Chapter 32 - Debriefed

  Chapter 33 - Absolved

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  October 7, 2076: Six days after the release of Awaken Online.

  Chris ran desperately through the dead forest. Thick black clouds hovered in the sky, obscuring the sun and casting the forest in an almost impenetrable darkness. He could just barely make out the gnarled, leafless branches of the trees around him.

  His heart raced. He began to panic as he considered what was chasing him. The images of the dead and dying were burned into his mind. The fear pushed him to run faster. His breath came in heavy, ragged gasps and his legs pumped frantically. His stamina was depleting swiftly as he struggled against the weight of the heavy mail he wore.

  Chris heard the screams behind him, but he didn’t turn to look. He knew that they were the men in his contingent. Their group had gotten separated from the main army. However, a part of him was thankful that whoever had let out that scream had bought him a few precious seconds.

  “Oh god,” he panted. “Please don’t let them catch me.”

  Low hanging branches snagged on his clothing and armor. His foot collided with a tree limb that lay on the ground and Chris toppled forward, landing with a heavy thud. He could feel a dull ache in his ankle. The fall and minor pain caused his panic to escalate.

  Chris turned quickly and looked behind him, his eyes full of fear.

  Lightning arced between the boiling clouds and then a bolt struck a nearby tree with a deafening crash. The lightning pushed back at the darkness that hung in the air like a thick blanket, illuminating the massacre in the distance. Bodies littered the ground - the remains of Chris’s teammates and the soldiers they had been traveling with.

  In the flash of light, Chris caught sight of a figure moving through the trees. This person walked with a casual, purposeful tread that stood out in stark contrast to the chaotic movements of the enemy soldiers. The man’s body was shrouded in a billowing black cloak that obscured his face and clothing. He motioned toward Chris’ position and the dark forms around him rushed forward.

  Chris felt a strange mixture of awe and fear as he watched the dark figure.

  “Is-is that Jason?” he asked quietly into the darkness.

  A throaty roar was his only response. Chris saw the swiftly approaching group of soldiers and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. He tried madly to regain his footing, but struggled to rise, his heavy mail once again an impediment. He knew he only had a few seconds.

  As he made it to his feet, he felt a dull pain in his abdomen. He looked down and saw a blade jutting from his stomach. The blade withdrew swiftly and blood pooled around the wound. Chris turned, pulling his sword from its scabbard with a scrape of metal. His free hand clutched instinctively at his abdomen. A part of him already knew that it was too late.

  His opponent stood behind him. The creature’s left arm dangled at an unnatural angle and his armor was streaked with blood. Chris could see a ragged gash in the once-living man’s throat.

  Chris steeled himself as he glared into the creature’s milky white eyes, “Come and get me you undead asshole.”

  The zombie grinned mockingly and shook his head. A dull pain bloomed in Chris’ back.

  I was flanked, he thought in shock as he fell to his knees.

  Blood drained from the wounds in his stomach and back. It was only a matter of time before he died. He looked up and saw the dark figure walking slowly towards him. A black cat wound around the man’s feet like a shadow. Chris still couldn’t make out his face beneath the heavy, hooded cloak.

  “I know who you are,” Chris muttered angrily as the man approached. “The others will stop you.”

  Jason chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a grin. “I doubt it.”

  Without ceremony, the zombie behind Chris drew a blade across his neck. The pain lasted only a moment before the world went dark.

  Then a prompt appeared in Chris’ vision:

  Chapter 1 - Late

  November 14, 2074: 687 days until the release of Awaken Online.

  “Hello? Is this thing on?”

  The camera tilted erratically and then centered on a young woman in a lab coat. Her hair was brown and cut just above the shoulder. She wore modest eyeglasses and little makeup. She was pretty, in a mousy sort of way. In the background behind the woman lay a mass of machinery and cabling.

  “My name is Claire Thompson. This is the first day of the private trials of Awaken Online.” The woman seemed a bit nervous to be on camera and kept adjusting her glasses.

  “To be clear, these trials are not part of the regular Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) evaluation process. This trial is being conducted at the request of the board of directors of Cerillion Entertainment. As the board is no doubt aware, the primary goal of this project was to create a virtual reality simulation that draws players in and makes them want to keep playing.

  “The AI controller is still in its infancy and we expect it to grow and adapt as the trial progresses. Consequently, the AI controller's primary directive is to encourage players to spend more time playing.

  “Our hope is that we can develop a game that is as engaging as possible and that finds a healthy balance between improved realism and the practical game features found in many MMOs.”

  Claire hesitated and fidgeted slightly as she considered what to say next.

  “The purpose of this private trial is to test new features of the game software, particularly the game's AI controller, ahead of the CPSC submission. We plan to create a benchmark with this trial that we can use to evaluate and respond to the CPSC's questions.”

  Claire motioned to the machinery behind her. “This is the hardware for the game's AI controller. Alfred...” Claire paused and blushed slightly. “I’m sorry. I’ve worked with the AI controller for so long that I have started calling him Alfred.”

  “Anyway. Alfred is responsible for controlling all of the game's processes from the ground up. For example, he manages the quests, character creation, lore, and NPC interactions.”

  “We have also implemented safety protocols to ensure that the game does not harm the users. For example, we have created secondary directives that place limitations on A
lfred's ability to interface with the users’ cerebral cortex and the parts of the brain that control memory. Although, keep in mind that the software to access these areas hasn’t been written, and we aren’t certain the headsets are even capable of accessing to the users’ minds to that degree.”

  The camera panned to the side as it followed Claire. A series of screens showing small, bare rooms stood behind Claire. Each room held a reclining chair and a coffee table. A solid, black helmet sat on each table and was attached to a six-inch black obelisk.

  Claire motioned at the screens, “This private trial will include one hundred test subjects, ages 18-35. Both males and females are equally represented.” People began to enter the rooms as Claire spoke and they took a seat. Some immediately pulled the helmets over their heads without hesitation.

  Claire looked back at the screens with an excited grin on her face, “Our test participants have now arrived. It will be fun to see how they react to their first time...”

  * * *

  October 1, 2076: Release day for Awaken Online.

  Jason was hurrying down the tree-lined sidewalk on his way to school. He was late. He was really late.

  Jason passed by palatial houses at a brisk jog. He didn't see anyone on the street. This wasn't the sort of neighborhood where people went on long walks. It wasn't a bad neighborhood, quite the opposite in fact. The people that lived in these oversized houses weren't accustomed to walking on the dusty sidewalks with the rest of the masses.

  I can't believe I'm going to be late again, he thought morosely.

  It wasn't his fault. His parents left that morning on an extended business trip. Of course, they hadn't mentioned the trip the night before.

  The kicker was that his parents had deactivated the apartment's network this morning on their way out the door. He could just imagine the two of them, juggling coffee and luggage as they bickered about whether they were going to make their flight on time. Apparently, neither of them had remembered he was still in bed when they effectively shut off all of the electronics in the apartment. Including his alarm.

  His parents were both attorneys. They were actually environmental litigators. This meant they suffered the dual curse of always being super busy and never getting paid well. Apparently whales and trees were a bit strapped for cash. This also meant that they were constantly away from home trying cases in other states and were a bit absentminded when it came to everything else.

  For as long as Jason could remember, whatever environmental war they were waging at the moment had always taken precedence over everything else. He sometimes wondered how, with their many extended trips, they had managed to raise him until he was old enough to survive on his own. The only advantage of their frequent trips was that he was free to do pretty much anything he wanted while they were gone.

  Jason's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a blaring car horn. In his hurry, he had almost stepped off the sidewalk in front of the car.

  “Watch it asshole,” yelled a blond-haired teenager driving a little red sports car.

  Before he could reply or apologize, the driver sped off down the road. Jason could have sworn that the driver looked familiar, but he didn't have a chance to get a good look at him. The only thing he could make out from this angle was the man's right hand and his rather long middle finger.

  Perfect. This day is really starting off on a high note.

  As his eyes followed the car racing away, his gaze swept across the profile of his school a few blocks ahead of him. His high school was a two story red brick building. A stone sign sat at the foot of the stairs to the main doorway. Jason couldn't make out the words from this distance. However, he knew that it read “Richmond High, Founded in 1952.”

  The lawn at the front of the school was well manicured and dotted with large oaks. This was unusual nowadays. It was now 2076 and urban land was unbelievably expensive. The trees and unused space around Richmond were a sign of both how out-of-touch the school was with modern day and just how much money it could afford to waste.

  Under other circumstances, Jason might have stopped to admire the scenery as he drew closer to the school, but he was already in trouble. He had been tardy several times this semester due to situations like the one this morning. He couldn't afford any more absences.

  “At least we live within walking distance of the school,” Jason muttered as he continued his jog down the sidewalk.

  If he was being honest, he actually lived in a nice neighborhood and his parents made decent money by middle class standards. He even had the privilege of attending a prestigious private school. This was due in large part to his exceptional test scores and a not-so-small scholarship.

  He should be happy.

  The problem was that he didn't have enough money to be “worthy” of attending Richmond. The other students knew it and made certain he remembered it. Most of them came from old money and would likely never need to work a day in their lives. As a result, it seemed that everyone he encountered at Richmond, including both the students and the faculty, went out of their way to make his life miserable.

  Jason walked across the street and onto the grounds. The school also boasted an above-ground parking lot adjacent to the main building. This was another complete waste of space that flaunted the school's budget. Jason could see the little red sports car that had raced past him now sitting unoccupied in one of the “princess spots” close to the building.

  There was no one outside of the school as Jason approached the front door. Morning classes had already begun. Jason entered the school and took a deep breath as he approached the administrative office near the front of the building.

  I should just explain the situation and get it over with.

  He opened the door to the office and stepped through.

  Jason was immediately greeted by the scathing gaze of a thin woman standing next to the front desk. She wore horn rimmed glasses and was speaking with a blond-haired student. The woman was dressed in a vomit green cardigan and plaid skirt. A small gold cross hung on her chest. Her lips seemed perpetually pinched in displeasure. As she glanced in Jason's direction, her eyes flashed with thinly veiled disgust.

  Oh shit.

  The student speaking to Ms. Abrams was apparently the proud owner of a red sports car. Now that he had a chance to get a good look at him, Jason recognized the blond-haired driver as Alex Lane. Alex was stunningly good looking, with an athletic physique, and striking blue eyes. He was also blessed with ample intelligence and had a certain charisma that drew in others like flies to honey. Alex's father was on the board of directors for several Fortune 500 companies. As a result, his family had more money than they knew what to do with.

  Alex was also quite possibly the biggest asshole Jason had ever met.

  “My apologies Ms. Abrams, my father needed to speak with me this morning. That’s why I was running late. I assure you it won't happen again.” Alex's face was the picture of remorse.

  Ms. Abrams' pinched expression loosened, and, for a moment, Jason thought she might actually smile. “It's not a problem Alex, your father is a busy man. Go ahead and make your way to class.”

  Alex thanked Ms. Abrams and made his way out the door. As he passed Jason, Alex's angelic expression warped into a smirk. He shouldered past, causing Jason to drop his bag. Alex immediately turned with an angelic expression plastered on his face.

  “Oh I'm so sorry,” he said contritely, clearly for Ms. Abrams' benefit. Alex left the office and headed for class.

  What an asshole. If only other people could see past the act he puts on.

  Jason turned back to Ms. Abrams. Her mouth was again pinched into a thin line and any trace of a smile was now gone. She looked Jason up and down and seemed to be mentally cataloging the defects with his school uniform, including his wrinkled shirt and his disheveled hair.

  Jason was not a terrible looking guy, but he wasn't handsome either. He had longish brown hair that sometimes fell in his eyes because he didn't get
it cut often. It was also clear from anyone who saw him that he didn't give much attention to his clothing or working out. His uniform hung loosely on his skinny frame. The only thing truly noteworthy about his appearance were his eyes. They were a vivid, crystalline grey and at times almost seemed to darken to black in the right light.

  As he stood under Ms. Abrams’ scrutiny, dread curled in his stomach like a nest of snakes. Running into her was the worst thing that could have happened to him this morning.

  Ms. Abrams was an alumni of Richmond, having attended the school long before Jason was born. Like most students of the school, she had a respectable pedigree (which meant her family was filthy rich). She was also adamant about maintaining the reputation and standing of Richmond (which meant she hated anyone who wasn't wealthy). Ms. Abrams was vehemently opposed to the “welfare” students, such as himself, who attended the school on scholarship. She had gone out of her way over the last few years to try to have his scholarship revoked or to have him expelled.

  Her latest tactic was apparently to have him arrested for truancy.

  “Mr. Rhodes. You're over an hour late for class. I suppose you have another inane excuse for your tardiness?” Her tone made it clear that the question was rhetorical.

  “I'm certain that you're also aware that this is your tenth tardy for the fall semester?” she continued in a tight tone.

  Jason felt his pulse speed up and his mouth go dry as it normally did in stressful situations. It was also at this moment that he realized he didn't have a note from his parents to explain his tardiness.

  Why in the hell didn't they tell me they were leaving?

  “I-I am sorry Ms. Abrams. My parents left this morning on a trip and they needed to speak with me before they left,” he stuttered slightly, unable to make eye contact with Ms. Abrams.

  He didn't expect this fib to work with Ms. Abrams, but he felt certain she would flatly accuse him of lying if he explained that his parents had forgotten he was home when they left this morning.