“I may run?” Zack tried doing it again, and was still held in place. “Okay, you know what, demon? Let’s fight, and I swear, I’ll beat you up like a sissy.”
After the boss fight initiates, he thought, I’ll have my controls back. Then he could flee and let Marduk prove his powers had any reach at all. Most likely, the demon NPC, no matter how epic, was to remain confined within this location. The corridor at the entrance was definitely too low and narrow for this Eater of Worlds to squeeze through.
In any case, it was the fastest way to break out of this boring cut scene.
“Come on.” Zack laughed. “Don’t stand there like a chatty villain cliché. Come at me.”
“YOU DARE TO LAUGH AT THE EATER OF WORLDS, MORTAL?” Marduk said. “YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED FOR YOUR INSOLENCE!”
“Whatev—” Zack started, but could never finish. The demon boss raised his warhammer and let out a deafening roar, making the ground shake and small debris rain down from above. His eyes shone white now, same as the infernal portal behind him, and the tremors grew stronger still.
ZZAP!
A flash of blinding light, and the shrine around them was falling apart. The last thing Zack had time to notice was the walls around him coming down and the vault collapsing, huge pieces of rock crushing the altar, and the next one falling on top of his head.
Everything went black, and the alchemist was no more.
***
As lightning struck the roof, a thunderbolt snapping through the air like a sonic boom, the lights winked out in the whole project building at once. Their kitchen phone started ringing, and it rung incessantly while Zack’s mother made her way through the sudden darkness towards his room, calling for Zack and hearing no answer.
The room smelled of burned insulation. She found her son in his seat, next to a burned-out computer. As she pulled the fuming helmet off Zack’s head, a new purplish lightning flashed behind the window, and thunder roared. She could clearly see two electric burns on her son’s temples where the two opposing conductors, the visual laser modules, zapped him like a metal cap of an electric chair.
“Oh no,” she said. “Zack! Zack! Oh no! Zack, do you hear me!?”
His mom pulled out her mobile phone and nearly dropped it. As she dialed the emergency number, Zack’s mother went down on her knees and probed his pulse underneath his lolling head.
Her son’s heart was still beating, but the pulse grew fainter with every passing moment.
Chapter 6: Permadeath
“The bolt must have struck an Internet satellite dish,” a young doctor was saying as Zack was being rolled down the hall, his life monitors beeping, his vital signs in the red. “It went down the cables and straight through the computer, with no fuses to stop it.”
“Is he alright now?” Zack’s mom asked, her hurried steps matching the speed of the gurney. “Will he be okay? Tell me!”
“Your son is in a coma, ma’am,” the doctor replied in between giving orders. “We stabilized him for now, but his condition remains uncertain. The longer it lasts, the higher the risk of permanent brain injury. I’m sorry to say this, ma’am, but even his life remains at stake as of now.”
They stopped next to a big hospital elevator, its doors two big slabs of grey steel.
“Please stay here, ma’am.” The doctor blocked her way, his palms raised. “Please. I cannot let you in the ICU. Patients and personnel only. I’m sorry.”
As the elevator doors opened, then closed, cutting her off from her son, Zack’s mom still stood there, her eyes full of tears and desperation.
***
The darkness swirled all around him, shifting yet immaterial, implying at things yet insufferably meaningless in its suggestiveness. At least Zack was able to tell he was lying down on his back. Something small and sharp was biting into it – most likely roots and small stones, he realized.
It all felt dreamlike first, far away, as if his body wasn’t really his. But his feelings grew sharper still, and he could soon discern every little stone and root underneath him, and the burlap cloth he was dressed in clinging to his back, doing little to make the earth feel softer. Zack realized he was finally awake, even though his eyes still refused to open. Zack’s senses started coming back to him one by one: the smell of burnt flint, the odor of wet and rough burlap soaked by rainwater, the smell of ozone after a thunderstorm, and a whiff of sulfur on top of it.
Marduk, he thought. And then: Who’s Marduk? What happened to me?
Zack finally managed to open his eyes. Far above him, dark yellowish storm clouds were billowing, not flowing in one direction but more like swirling in one spot, first coalescing then melting away, replacing each other in their slow merry-go-round, the light behind them weird and outlandish.
I was on my computer, in my room, Zack remembered. This looked nothing like his room. This, in fact, looked nothing like planet Earth.
“Greetings, oh Chosen Hero,” he heard an old creaking voice above him.
Dante, another name surfaced in his memories.
Zack got up on his feet. The robed sage stood in front of him, his wrinkled face wet, small drops of rain glimmering in his cartoonish eyebrows. Behind the old man, huge fantasy pines creaked in the wind. Zack could swear he felt its wet gusts with his entire body, and he shivered totally for real. Something’s wrong, he thought. Something’s very wrong.
“Ahem,” Zack said. “If someone could please explain to me what has just happened? Is this some extra-realistic mode of play? I mean now the place even has smells. And it’s cold in here. How did they manage it, smells, and cold, and… and my clothes feel wet, and…”
Zack ran his hands down his starter Apprentice’s robe, three Potions of Dizziness and a Copper Dagger +1 glimmering on his belt. He touched a flask, then the dagger. It felt real. Everything felt too damn real.
I’m back to my starter items, he thought.
“You died during your adventures, oh Chosen Hero,” the old sage responded. “And yet the spirits brought you back, and you were resurrected here by this altar.”
“The altar?” Zack looked where the old man pointed but, to his slight discomfort, could see no dancing white fountain anymore. Just a pile of rune-streaked rubble, silent and ominous. He said: “What happened to it?”
“Alas!” the old Dante said. “A blast of evil magic destroyed the altar.”
“A blast of evil magic!?” Zack shook his fists in front of the old man’s wrinkled face. “It was my spawn point! Which blast of evil magic?”
“It came from the sky,” Dante said.
As if to add visual proof to his claims, a huge yellowish fireball suddenly broke through the clouds and fell in a wide arc, crashing into the pines nearby with a muffled roar and a bright flash. The thump it made could be felt through the rocky ground. A shockwave of foul-smelling air hit them a second later, making Zack reel and blowing Dante’s long beard apart.
“The timeless evil has awakened, and its horrors invaded Aetheria,” the old man said. “No land is safe now. Lesser and greater demons rain from the sky, and small villages are overrun by demonspawn.”
“Marduk,” Zack remembered. “So this is what happens when you try and steal this super-expensive crystal. Greedy developers, huh. So what now?”
“Without an altar, oh Chosen Hero, you shall remain like mortals are, and live only one life. If you are to lose it, there will be no more resurrection I’m afraid.”
“Permadeath!” It was something he hated in games. “Hey, come on. I didn’t enable it.”
“A blast of evil magic destroyed the altar,” Dante said. “Without an altar, oh Chosen Hero, you shall remain like mortals are, and live only one life.”
“You stupid dummy,” Zack muttered. He tried to remove the VR helmet. Instead, his hands found a mane of disheveled hair. The hair was raven-black, same as his avatar’s used to be. Zack pulled it hard, and it hurt.
“Hey,” he said, grasp
ing for the invisible VR glasses again and finding different things instead: aquiline nose, thick eyebrows, stubbly cheeks, one of them ploughed across with a big heroic scar. It all felt real. And he wore no VR gloves anymore, or anything else, Zack was certain of it. He ran his index finger along the scar and felt every little dip and curve of it. Where the scar ended, Zack’s stubble pricked the tip of his finger. He never had stubble. He was too young to shave.
“Hey,” Zack said, talking into the sky. “I mean, this immersion is incredible and so on, but I’d like to switch Permadeath off please. In fact, I’d like to quit the game for a while. Hello?”
No one replied. Even Dante stood silently, looking into the sky. Another fireball broke through the clouds and slowly fell, crashing at a distance with a loud bang, its echo resounding from the mountain peaks.
“Hey,” Zack repeated. Something unpleasant stirred in his stomach. “I think I played too much. It all feels kinda too real. I mean, it’s probably not good for my sanity. I’d like to quit the game pretty please.”
Still, there was no response. Sweet sickly panic was finally born within Zack: it made its way from the stomach and settled in his throat, demanding him to open his mouth and shout for help.
“QUIT THE GAME!” Zack screamed into the sky, gasping for breath. “Quit! Exit! Help! I need help! I’m stuck here! This is not fun! SOMEBODY, HELP!”
His journal then magically filled his hands, a worn leather-bound book of yellowing pages, emanating a light golden halo. A help command, Zack thought. Just a stupid help command. At least this thing still works.
He could tell there was new stuff written in there, but he wasn’t sure some writings would be of much help. Still, Zack opened the book and flipped to the last filled page, which was still quite close to the beginning.
QUEST LOG
MAIN QUEST: Seal the Infernal Gateway
Many eons ago, a group of powerful Paladin Mages of the Ancient Empire banished the armies of Hell back to their infernal dimension. For many years, only the lands of Pandemonia still held the traces of demonic presence. All of this changed the moment the Infernal Gateway was opened, and the horrors of Inferno were once again unleashed on all races alike. These days, no land in Aetheria is safe.
Objectives: Seal the Gate
Rewards: Stops demonic invasion
MAIN QUEST: The Eater of Worlds
His Shrine destroyed and the Aetherium Shard keeping his soul entrapped gone, Marduk the Eater of Worlds is once again at large. As his demonic armies invade Aetheria, the supreme demon’s own location still remains unknown.
Objectives:
Find Marduk
Kill Marduk
Rewards: Legendary Aetherium Shard X3
The PERMADEATH mode has been activated. No respawning allowed – dying in the game while Permadeath is on will result in the immediate loss of your current character and the entire game progress! Proceed at your own risk.
You can disable the PERMADEATH mode via the Game Settings accessible while next to an active Resurrection Altar.
“So how do I quit?” he asked, making the journal close, break up into a bunch of fireflies, and disappear back into his invisible inventory. “How to quit the game now, huh?”
“Wooooooo,” a wolf answered from a distance. No one else was near. Even Dante was gone, realized Zack.
It was an early evening, the first real evening Zack had experienced in Aetheria, and feelings hit him hard. He was especially annoyed by the Apprentice Robes he wore, a useless garment, now made even worse. Zack touched it again. His fingers were clean and dry, and still, Zack could swear he would feel fresh wetness if he would rub them together – no VR gloves but his own grown-up callous skin against more callous skin. His new body was definitely working class, a young village lad turned Alchemist’s apprentice – young by a fantasy world standards but more aged than Zack in real life.
Real life, he thought again. I wonder what happened in real life… there was a storm. Was I hit by lightning? Is this Marduk a Zeus-like god in my world? Is it a coincidence? How is such stuff even possible?
It was all like a dream, except it was a million times more detailed than common dreams tend to be. The pine trees were all around, sharp and tall, titanic arrows piercing the sky, their trunks gray and huge like feet of giant elephantine creatures of old. A whole symphony of emotions is what this picture held for Zack, much more feeling and realism than a normal sane videogame should be allowed to have. This was now a game that specifically intended to make him feel the cold of inevitable death, make him feel lonely, and powerless, and depressed, and hurt.
It was a masterful hookup, he had to give the developers as much. And this feeling of constant wetness of the burlap, Zack thought. I’m sure it’s not a work of theirs but simply my imagination. For instance, I want to drink. I want to drink badly. And I feel cold because of this wetness. And I feel this wet wind and I imagine a witchy sulfury smell for one reason: the rig’s plastic innards smell like this, and the cold mildew on my face is my cold sweat in real life. But my perception of what’s real is all messed up. Like Alice in Wonderland. I’m sure I’m sleeping and dreaming all this stuff up, how else? But even if it’s a dream, I have to try and keep warm; it’s good for my nerves. And if I’m still in the game, it’s probably also good for my stats. Hence, I need a drink.
He made a couple steps down the path to Hawkspoint, kicking little stones caught underfoot. This was also new – he didn’t remember physics in Aetheria being this good.
There was a waterfall somewhere down the road that last time. Maybe it’s all not an accident, Zack thought. Of course it’s not. The game designer gods along with the Director AI shaping the reality in the way Zack always had something to do, always a visible goal, always a defined place to go. Maybe I should just give up and follow their will, Zack thought. What if this was actually a test of some kind, of a new VR mode or something? What if it was a short experience, merely a check they had arranged for him, in order to find out if Zack could be allowed into some elite secret variety of players, experiencing the game like he did now?
“WOOOOOO”, a wolf sounded right nearby. It scared off a flock of birds, making them take wing in unison, their combined flap of wings as loud as a gunshot.
Zack didn’t doubt a second he was going to encounter the same good old Pack of Wolves greeting every player shortly after respawn, right down the road. The problem is, doggies, he thought. You are low-level tutorial wolves, and I am a superhero, and I am what, Level 4 now? I’ll kill you by poking you three in turns, Play Dead or no Play Dead.
He ran into a thin film of spider web placed across the track – it seemed to materialize in two steps in front of him and, as Zack walked into it without noticing, it popped like a soap bubble. Before he could understand what happened, it splattered his cloak with more water, making Zack feel soaking wet again.
I need that Wolfskin Armor, Zack thought. I’m sure it will feel dry and comfortable. Hey, will I also have to eat and visit toilets now?
This was unlikely, because his wet robe felt like a part of his skin. He wasn’t able to take it off or even remove the hood, he had tried already. The game had its own rules, and he couldn’t forget for a second he was trapped in this game, his life at stake in this world of mad entertainment, where stubble didn’t grow and wet burlap robes of an apprentice Alchemist clung to you like an unpleasant second skin.
To eat, however. Zack felt hunger, of sorts. And he wanted to drink. What if this Permadeath mode included the emulation of basic needs, like thirst and hunger and the need to sleep or at least to rest, your character in stasis and moderately opened to PvE and PvP dangers? What if this turned out to be a virtual hacker attack, the first VR virus ever, some kind of an extortion through this experience, something which can be removed only for premium in-game currency? What if it was a sadist paywall of some kind, keeping its creators rich at the cost of those who cannot stand the humiliatio
n of sudden ambush or, say, death from hunger?
Which would be permanent, of this Zack had no doubt.
He bent and pulled a blade of grass. It felt like proper grass – cold and slick; it even felt alive. And yet, no matter how hard he pulled, it didn’t tear or pull out. The blade of grass stayed in place. It was a part of the ground, Zack realized now, same as his robe felt like a part of his body.
What if some evil corporation tried out a virtual secret weapon throughout this game? Like The X-Files or this MKULTRA thing. What if he was actually trapped and subdued by the game or some mechanism built into it? Hypnotized, then hijacked from his home and transferred to some secret laboratory, where they keep people in transparent pods, all of them still connected to Aetheria, and they use you like a battery, or use your brain’s processing capabilities to farm cryptocurrency, or whatever those evil corporations do. This sounded crazy but it seemed to make sense, more or less. The facts, they were also crazy after all.
Zack was sure of one thing: if he were to die in here, it wouldn’t result in a simple GAME OVER or any sort of respawn or a New Game screen. He was also pretty sure he wouldn’t wake up in his bed, either. It felt like he had totally merged with his character. If Zack were to die, he would be gone in the most atheist sort of way. Deleted and erased permanently. Nevermore.
It made him nervous and antsy. Not a good mood at all when you’re about to be attacked by a pack of wolves, but Zack just couldn’t help it. The game was now truly a generator of unpleasant feelings. No wonder they won’t let me quit, Zack thought. Who’d want to stay here? No, not like this.
CRUNCH! SMACK! Something spindly and pushy and disgusting fell through the branches and landed straight on his head, soft like a plush toy and heavy like a small sack of potatoes, its short furry insectile legs drumming on his shoulders. The thing then collapsed on the ground at Zack’s feet; it seemed to scamper away in fear, then stopped and quickly jittered 180 degrees around, and raised its disgusting front legs, and screeched, its eyes a pattern of glowing rubies.
The Alchemist of Aetheria: A LitRPG Adventure Page 10
