The Virtual Realm

by Daniel Perusko

  2...

  Screw him, I’ll show him right here and now in this match not to underestimate me.

  1...

  Dusk had to push all of his thoughts to the side. Out of time. Only one thing mattered now—winning. His pulse had accelerated from zero to sixty as his hand grasped his serpent sword tightly. The rush of energy renewed his relaxed muscles, causing them to switch to survival mode. He was ready for this.

  Go!

  The doors instantly burst open, signaling the dawn of a vicious death match. The crowd’s screeching cheers shook the arena in anticipation. The match had begun.

  Dusk instantly went into stealth mode, looking for possible prey. The entire group climbed the stairs, setting foot on the dry wood of the bridge. Dusk examined the enemy’s group composition on his UI window.

  Phantom, Dark Knight, Master of Arms, Berserker, Wizard. Their entire composition is all damage dealers, with the exception of the Berserker possibly being a tank. There is no healer on their side. Which means they’re going to try to burst someone down as fast as possible. Who to go for? Dusk was interrupted from his thoughts by Kevlar’s voice giving instructions.

  “Go for the Dark Knight, everyone else is either far back or has escape mechanisms.”

  Dusk’s group all halted their advance before the bridge and let the enemies come to them, but Kevlar had other plans. He flew across the bridge like a bullet, charging straight into the enemy at top speed and catching them off guard. Unfortunately, the other players in his group didn’t have that sort of speed. Kevlar had marched into the lion’s den all alone. Dusk and Xyla tried to come to their comrade’s aid as quickly as possible, but their legs wouldn’t carry them fast enough to prevent the inevitable backlash.

  Kevlar’s body lit up in a fiery radiance. The blinding flash of a sniper bullet, the searing explosion of a fireball, as well as a multitude of several slash effects accompanied by the cacophony of blades piercing against his armor plating.

  He was withstanding a united onslaught of hostility: a result of his thoughtless rush. Stacy instantly hit him with a heal, enveloping his body in golden light. Frost ran up to Kevlar and cast in order to share the burden of damage.

  Dusk had managed to slink behind the Dark Knight, slicing his jade sword through the armor on his backside. The emerald blade became stained scarlet with the blood of his enemy. Before the Dark Knight could recover, Dusk threw all of his strength into a jab, connecting with the back of his foe’s head. Before the Dark Knight even knew what hit him, Kevlar brought his greatsword down at him with unstoppable force. The Dark Knight fell to the ground, unable to move a muscle, trying to figure out what the hell just happened to him.

  The enemy group quickly realized their uphill battle, so they decided to change up their strategy. The remaining four all charged towards Stacy like it was the running of the bulls. Stacy howled as she took a barrage of attacks head on. She felt like a train smashed into her. Suddenly, each foe was restrained by an azure chain which wrapped itself tightly around their waists, pulling them to Frost against their will.

  Stacy, finally remembering what Kevlar had told her, ran onto the bridge to draw the enemy’s attention. Once freed from Frost’s pale blue shackles, the enemy followed her without thinking, only seeing red. Once they were clustered, she channeled a wave of light to push the enemy Phantom and Berserker onto the lower level.

  The Berserker, however, achieved a feat any basketball player would be envious of, charging back up at her before his feet had even touched the sand.

  Xyla and Dusk had sprinted to the Master of Arms that was hanging in the back. This enemy thought he would hide in safety, hoping to fade into the background like a chameleon. It was obvious this foe was green when it came to how to react in the face of danger. Used to attacking opponents from afar, he could only panic at the sight of two opponents that were right in his face.

  It was only a matter of time now; the enemy was falling apart at the seams. First the Master of Arms fell, and then the Wizard. Next was the Berserker. Finally, after some searching, they found the enemy Phantom in stealth, trying to draw out the match as long as possible. Once they found him he was quickly dealt with. Every competitor had fallen, the match was over.

  The crowd erupted into a clamor of excitement. Their roars rocked the stadium.

  Frost had lifted up his arms, showing off to the crowd. Stacy had raised one fist up to the sky, joining him in his celebration. Xyla and Dusk, while not showing off much, were smiling contentedly; a silent congratulation to one another. Kevlar was devoid of emotion, only showing the slightest of grins. The group was promptly teleported away in a radiant flash.

  ~~~~~

  The duo of Phoenixes was perched on their seats as the tournament went on. Tsuki had fallen into a drowsy daze over time. This was boring her to tears. None of the first round participants so far had displayed anything worth noting. Still, she wouldn’t allow herself to fall asleep. She would see this through to the end.

  The timer echoed throughout the coliseum, drowning out the ambient noise of the audience. This would be the final group of combatants for the first round; the final chance to see if anyone shimmered in these lifeless sands. She watched with bated breath as the last few seconds counted down, desiring nothing more than for this last group of fighters to have an exceptional candidate so that she could cease her search.

  The wooden doors opened in front of her eyes, releasing the lions from their cages. She gazed upon the group of five who emerged from the right.

  “That team has only damage dealers. They’re gonna get wrecked so hard.”

  “Indeed, but there’s something else I think you should see. Look at the other team.”

  “What about them?”

  Tsuki inquired as her eyes trailed to the opposite gate. It was at that moment where her eyes caught a glimpse of something that caused her heart to jump into her throat. She struggled to breathe, feeling as though all the air had been sucked out of her by a vacuum.

  “What is he doing here?” Tsuki whispered as the shock flickered under her breath.

  “I do not know, but you cannot say this is altogether unexpected. You know he’s a big fan of MMOs.”

  Of course; how could she have been so foolish? How could she not have expected this? She should have known he would be taking part in this adventure. After all, they all knew him for years.

  “I know, ugh.” Tsuki clutched her chest as though she were having a heart attack. At that moment her eyes crawled to the next target. A Phantom with a single green blade who had clad himself in brown leather. A shattering screech rung in her head—she remembered this person, too. She had only met him once in passing, but a brief moment that lasted eons. This must’ve been what was causing those waves. Him again? Just who was this man?

  “Do you want to leave?”

  Tsuki fervently shook her head in the negative.

  “No, I have to stay and see this through. He doesn’t know we’re here. It will be fine.”

  “All right, are you sure? If you need to leave I can stay here and watch in your place.”

  “I’m sure. This is my mission. I won’t let personal matters get in the way.”

  Omni reached forth with his hand, touching her gently on the shoulder, wearing a tender smile that would soothe her spirit.

  “As it should be.”

  “Just tell me something, Jed.”

  “What is it?”

  “I could tell this whole time. There is something here you wanted me to see. Is this it? You know we can’t let Kevlar back into Phoenix.”

  “This was not what I wanted you to see. Hidden deep beneath the soil there is a magnificent seed waiting to spread its leaves proudly beneath the sunlight. Kevlar will never be let back in, but within these walls lays the potential for a new Phoenix to hatch.”

  By the time Omni had finished these eloquently spoken words, the match had already ended. Kevlar’s team had swiftly attained v
ictory. Tsuki paid this little heed, as her mind was currently concentrated on something more important.

  “Who is this person? Who is the egg that has the potential to hatch into the next stage of evolution?”

  Omni flashed his friendly smile again, keeping all the answers to himself, ever cryptic in his manner. Tsuki had known him long enough to know what this meant. He would not tell her. She couldn’t deny this was poking her brain in annoying prods which would not fade. No matter. She knew the source. It was undoubtedly this Phantom. This was the one who would hatch into greatness. But why did his presence always cause her soul to surge violently?

  ~~~~~

  When the five fighters next opened their eyes, it wasn’t their home city that they had returned to. What lay before their eyes was a waiting room for the arena combatants. The centerpiece of this place was the big screen TV which was showing the arena coverage. Around him, Dusk could hear a moderate volume of incessant babbling. Within this room lurked over two hundred players, all fellow fighters: participants of this tournament who sought glory, fame, and power.

  The group of five had taken a seat at one of the booths, the excitement of their victory still lingering.

  Kevlar sighed for a moment, having different sentiments than the rest of the group.

  “So even though we won, our teamwork was sloppy there. I spotted several mistakes.”

  “Like what?” Xyla inquired, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

  Where do I even start? “First off, Frost, you were slow in using your on me, you should’ve realized what I was going to do. You were also slow in using to get the enemies off of me completely.”

  “Sorry, guy.”

  Kevlar simply shrugged and turned his head towards Stacy.

  “You were slow in getting on the bridge to knock them off onto the ground level. You panicked when the enemies attacked you.”

  “It was my first PvP match ever,” Stacy retorted with some venom, her voice rife with frustration. She could not believe Kevlar was pointing out her supposed faults when they had just won the match.

  “I know, relax. I’m just trying to help us get better.”

  Kevlar continued, looking at Dusk and Xyla with his bespectacled eyes.

  “You two didn’t focus the same target I did. I was on the Wizard and you two were dicking around, attacking a separate target.”

  Xyla sat in agreeable silence, but Dusk had decided he wasn’t going to stand for this. He slammed both hands down on the table with a crash.

  “Yeah? What about you, huh? Maybe you should’ve been the one attacking the same target as us, seeing as there were two of us on them!”

  “That wasn’t the plan. You two were to assist me on whatever target I was attacking,” Kevlar retorted, the expression on his face not budging an inch.

  “Screw the plan!” Dusk yelled. “Sometimes you have to adapt. Things don’t always work the way you plan them to. Who put you in charge of us anyways; you just joined our group.”

  “I have more player vs. player experience than all of you combined. If you want to win, I need to be the one calling the shots.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’ve been a gladiator too, as well as a former Suncraft tournament champion.”

  Kevlar’s eyes lit up, pretending to be impressed.

  “Oh? A gladiator you say? You of course know there have been up to thirteen seasons in which one could become a gladiator. Which season were you?”

  “Season seven.”

  If only this idiot could've seen the numerous mistakes he was making during the match. He thinks he's my equal, what a fool. Kevlar's inner laughter came through in a smug sneer. “Season seven, what a joke. I was a gladiator in seasons one, two, three, and five, before I decided I had become bored of the game, having beaten it and all.”

  Dusk sprung up from his chair like a jackal pouncing on their prey, lunging towards Kevlar, ready to fight his supposed ally right here and now. The condescending smirk on the Berserker’s face spoke of a superiority complex. Though they were staring at eye level, Kevlar’s condescension peaked to such ridiculous heights that Dusk imagined he felt he was staring down at the Phantom from the realm of the Gods, gazing upon an ant before him.

  “Kevlar, you arrogant piece of shit.”

  “Enough!” Stacy stood up and shouted authoritatively, placing her hands on the table. She exhaled deeply, trying to slow down her rhythm.

  “You see? You see, Drake? This is exactly why I never wanted to PvP. Shit like this! You two are sitting here trying to show off who has the bigger dick, like any of us cares—just shut up already!”

  Both gladiators sewed their mouths shut, feeling silly for their display, their verbal clash for dominance. The mental battle continued in their own minds.

  I was just trying to help us get better, what’s his problem? Kevlar reflected.

  I wonder if this guy even realizes how condescending he is towards others, Dusk grumbled.

  Though there was some personality conflict within this group of five, they had crushed all of the competition that lay before them, boosting them straight into the finals.

  It happened in the waiting room. There were five minutes left until the final match. Their competition took note of Dusk’s group, marching confidently towards them, giddy with glee at the chance to spread fear and discord among them before they clashed.

  One of the enemies named Bluegun laughed in their faces, his rough tone smashing into their eardrums with an unpleasant screech.

  “So this is who we’re facing in the finals, huh? They don’t look like much. This match is in the bag.”

  Another enemy named Quartz joined in, a mischievous glint in his eye.

  “Yeah, these guys look like a bunch of pussies to me; and two girls?” Quartz chuckled heartily and continued, “You girls should be in the kitchen. This is where the big boys play.”

  “Oh really?” Stacy quipped. “Tell you what, after we beat you guys you can make me a sandwich, how does that sound?”

  Quartz leaned forward, looking straight into her cerulean eyes with a menacing grin. He peered straight at her, a feral coyote staring deep into her soul, looking for any sign of weakness: a wandering of her eyes, a shiver, a jump, a gasp, something, anything. But there was no gap; she merely stared back at the predator fearlessly, igniting flames of excitement inside him.

  “You have spunk, I like you. It’ll be all the more satisfying when I crush you.”

  Suddenly another member of the group, named Centaur, interjected into the conversation.

  “Hey, guys,” he pointed to Dusk. “Haven’t we seen that guy before?”

  Bluegun stared at his name, thinking for a moment, trying to connect the dots. He smacked his fist into his palm as if a light switch had just been turned on.

  “Oh, that’s right! This motherfucking red star is the one who killed Menos!”

  The agitated animals had turned into bloodthirsty beasts. Dusk sank like a stone, remembering that day. His skin became icy, afflicted with the deathly cold memories.

  “You bastard.”

  Quartz stared down Dusk with absolute hatred before continuing, “It was you who killed our friend Menos. And for that you will pay dearly. We were just going to crush you in the finals at first, but now knowing who you are, we can’t let you go. You better run and hide after this match is over, because we’ll be looking for you. And if we find you, we’re killing all of you for sure.”

  Xyla’s rage consumed her, causing her to spring into action. She still remembered. Though she had showered countless times, it seemed like the saliva from Menos’s tongue back then still oozed down her face, its vile and disgusting wetness refusing to wash off, a permanent repugnant souvenir of the now fallen thug.

  “So you guys are the Hand of Blood?”

  “That’s right,” Centaur grinned proudly. “And we take care of our own. What you did can’t be forgiven. We won’t rest until we
’ve ground all of you into dust.”

  “Bring it on,” Xyla taunted as she lunged towards Centaur, her fist flying. Before it could connect, all of them vanished in a stroke of luminescence. The teleporting beam of light had denied Xyla her revenge, at least for now.

  “Damn it, I was just about to beat the shit out of those guys,” she grumbled. No matter. This was perfect. She could beat them into a bloody pulp without having to worry about their deaths. Right here and now, she would unleash the endless fires of her fury upon them, and they would know what it was like to be the prey.

  “Save it for the match,” Kevlar retorted calmly. “You guys know the strategy.”

  He glanced over at Dusk, who seemed to be in another world. What was the deal with this guy anyway? No one else had a problem with his instructions, but this Phantom seemed to think he knew better. What a stubborn fool.

  “Hey, newb, the match is about to start; snap out of it.”

  Dusk’s face was like a slideshow as it twisted from shock and fear into an expression of pure anger. His body was shaking as he gripped his sword, tremendous anguish spilling out through his form. This was it. It was time. It was all or nothing. Here he would either conquer his fear, or it would conquer him. Now was the time of truth. His eyes exploded in resolve, it was time to evolve into a more powerful lifeform, one which stood tall in the face of adversity and would not wilt under pressure. One that did not know the meaning of terror.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Kevlar questioned.

  “He has some history with the Hand of Blood,” Stacy responded regretfully. “Some brutal history.”

  Who cares about his history? His emo problems won't help us win. Man the fuck up. “Be that as it may, we need to win this match. This is the final match, we need to focus completely. No panicking, no fuckups.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me...” Dusk mumbled in a low voice that was slathered with rage. “I’ll win no matter what.”

  “Good, that’s all that matters.”

  Dusk was practically gazing a hole through the doors with the intensity of his stare. He was as ready as he had ever been. A still quiet hung in the air as the timer counted down.