Countdown (Reality Benders Book #1) LitRPG Series

by Michael Atamanov

  “Some friends promised good work in Moscow, but something happened,” he said, getting into the details of his failed plan.

  Imran spent another minute poking around with his phone, then stuck it back in his pocket, saying:

  “Can’t connect to the network, the stupid thing! It’s probably this damn iron roof.”

  “That is part of it,” came a derisive voice from the darkness. “But this is a military site, so there are also signal jammers.”

  Along with the rest, I turned to the voice and saw a middle-aged strong-looking man in a dark-blue uniform jumpsuit. On his sleeve, there was an unusual colorful emblem with a gold Greek helmet inside a white circle. Under that was a crest and cursive writing that read “Second Legion.” He didn’t seem to be armed, but his military bearing and army experience were immediately apparent.

  Without letting us think over what he said, the man motioned into the dark depths of the hangar:

  “Walk that way, into the darkness. In the very corner, you’ll see a stack of roofing tiles. Move them aside and go down the stairs beneath them. Go down into the tunnel and walk until you’ve reached the dome. The other newbie groups are already here. The intro session will begin shortly. The meeting hall in the dome is not very big, so make sure you hurry. The presentation lasts a few hours, and latecomers have to stand.”

  * * *

  We quickly found the tiles. It was a stack of twenty, and they were absolutely immovable. But a light push launched a hidden mechanism and the whole stack slid aside. There was a round hatch underneath, and when we opened there were metal rungs leading down into the darkness. Imran went down first and soon shouted that he'd found a switch on the wall. A second later, a light turned on below, and everyone could see that it was actually quite a short ladder.

  But the tunnel, lit sparsely by dull bulbs, seemed endless. We walked for a long time past unadorned gray concrete walls, looking at the pipes and bundles of wire along the floor. A few times, our group's path was blocked by metal doors, but they opened silently as soon as we walked up to them. Despite myself, I was impressed at how sturdy the doors were. Each was ten inches thick at least, if not twelve and made of strong hard metal. Finally, after yet another door, we discovered a ladder up.

  I batted my eyelids, getting used to the bright light in the small room. A beefy guardsman standing next to a metallic frame, again in a blue Second Legion uniform told us to place our documents, phones, wallets, keys and other objects on the table.

  “You won't be needing those for a long time,” he assured us. His partner, standing not far away, gave a chuckle.

  Anya from First Medical was standing at the front of the line. She blushed an unexpectedly deep shade of red and spent a long time hesitating about whether to demonstrate the contents of her bag with everyone around. I had no idea what could be so compromising, and I didn't find out, because the guards asked us to walk away and spare her the embarrassment.

  But then came my turn, and I also was forced to shake out my pockets. My government ID card, my now invalid student ID, a handful of change, an unopened pack of condoms and keys to my now former dorm room. After that was my wallet with the debit cards that gave access to all my savings... I was made to walk through a metal detector, then quickly and professionally searched. After that, sure that I hadn’t hidden anything, the guard returned only the pack of condoms. The rest he placed in a large transparent bag and sealed it with a special device.

  “I don’t even know if that's a good sign or a bad one,” Denis commented spitefully on the selective return of my property. After me, it was his turn.

  “Don’t hold up the line, keep moving into the dome! Remember, your number is one thousand four hundred seventy!” the military man hurried me along, attaching a numbered label to my bag.

  Before that, plain-jane Masha had received 1469, while hippie Artur was 1468. So, the numbers went in order. That meant almost fifteen hundred people worked in this mysterious “dome.” The scope was impressive. This must be a very, very serious project!

  The guardsman stuck my bag through a little window in the wall and someone immediately grabbed it. Then I walked down the corridor, repeating my number to myself and trying to memorize it: “One thousand four hundred seventy!”

  Chapter Four. Subterranean Dome

  I HAD HEARD the word “dome” a few times, but I was not expecting it to be this large. Just as its the name implied, it was a reinforced concrete hemisphere, but of truly unbelievable dimensions. The diameter at floor level was no less than a quarter mile. The far wall was blurry and lost in a blue-gray haze. The top was on the order of a hundred, and maybe even a hundred and sixty feet high. A vast number of bright spotlights high above our heads created the illusion of a midday summer sun. Under this Dome, there was a little residential neighborhood with apartment buildings, a soccer field, a few tennis courts, a green park and white sand paths.

  “Woah, I had no idea there was anything this huge in the Moscow Oblast,” said Artur, also impressed.

  “And it isn’t even all that far from Moscow. Our drive from downtown took only an hour,” Masha added. “Although there are some big hangars along Dmitrovskoye Highway, they are many times smaller than this...”

  “Guys, look!” Anya shouted, pointing at a silver cigar-shaped object flying just under the ceiling.

  I turned my head and first took the aircraft for a helicopter. However, its strange sleek shape, lack of rotors and total silence showed that it was unlike any flying vehicle I’d ever seen before.

  “Is this some kind of joke?!” We exchanged glances in complete incomprehension.

  After hearing our surprised exclamations, a blonde in a silver track suit, her skin red from an evening run, stopped next to our group.

  “Newbies? It’s obvious. They're testing an antigrav built with Miyelonian designs. It’s actually the second prototype. A bad pilot crashed the first one a month ago on one of the corncobs.”

  “Ah, that clears things up. Of course, it's just a normal, everyday antigrav. We should have known!” Denis answered, clearly trying to get a rise out of her. “We see this stuff every day. And no duh it slammed into a piece of corn!”

  The girl didn’t answer, just sized-up the boor with her gaze, furrowed her brow contemptuously and continued her jog. Her uniform had the number 343 on the back, alongside the skull of a bull with large horns. Below that, in angular Gothic script, there was text reading: “First Legion.”

  “Based on her number, she's been under this dome for a long time,” I said thoughtfully, advising the gopnik not to start a fight with the locals.

  In reply, he swore rudely and said not to try and teach him any lessons. After that, Denis went off the handle and started discussing the body of the athlete in totally vulgar and insulting terms. Then, he began to generalize about all women. He didn’t manage to finish, though, doubling over after taking a sharp jab to the stomach from Imran, who was standing next to him:

  “Don’t you dare insult women around me! You have a mother, I have a mother. Everyone has a mother. You must be respectful to those who blessed us with the gift of life.”

  The conflict did not continue, although the gopnik spent some time whispering unintelligible threats. We walked down the sand path and stopped at a fork next to a sign with directions. It had three arrows:

  Shooting range. Corn. Labyrinth.

  There was no sign of a conference hall, meeting room or introductory information session, so we stopped. Fortunately, I spotted two guys playing tennis not far away and hurried to ask them the way. They answered me eagerly and, in a few minutes, our whole group had taken their seats in a small semi-circular room reminiscent of an enclosed summer movie theater. There were already fifty people there and, although there were seats for everyone, we were nearly late. A man tall enough to play basketball wearing an austere business suit was testing the microphone, preparing for his speech.

  “Greetings, I am Ivan Lozovsky, deputy directo
r of the Dome and our faction’s diplomat,” he introduced himself and asked for the light to be turned off.

  Then the room went dark, and the screen behind him lit up. There was an anthropomorphic creature looking back at us from the screen with thick brown fur and wearing a bright crimson cloak over a suit of metal armor. It had powerful brow arches, a broad forehead, black eyes with no pupils, a wide nose and a massive chin. Its furry ears were pressed against its head and its tightly pursed lips had the protruding fangs of a predator. Both of the humanoid’s hands were gripping the handle of a wide glistening blade.

  “So then, newbies, I’ll start from the beginning. Before you is Krong Daveyesh-Pir. He is one of the rulers of the powerful space-faring Geckho race, and the all-powerful sovereign of expansive territories in our galaxy. Among those territories, by all interstellar laws, is our home planet of Earth. I understand that may sound unbelievable and shocking, but the fate of humanity is entirely in the hands of this creature. Let me clarify one thing: the Geckho are not our enemies. They're more like our protectors and mentors. In any conflict with another race, they will fight on our side. However, you must always keep in mind that Krong Daveyesh-Pir has the right and power to remove humanity from Earth and even entirely annihilate our civilization if we express the slightest disrespect of or disobedience to our Geckho suzerains.”

  In the room, not only did all conversations go quiet, everyone was so shocked they started to skip breaths. The presenter then made a brief pause and made sure that everyone understood the importance of what he'd said, then continued:

  “Now that we all understand our political reality, let's discuss why you were all brought here: the Dome, the game the bends reality, and your role in all this.”

  * * *

  I was probably the only person in the room seeing the fifty-second clip of the furry alien for the first time. I remembered hearing about it annoying internet users the world over last year, but it just so happened to come at a difficult period in my studies. I had recently fallen in love for the first time, lost interest in school and gotten three failing grades. I was on the edge of expulsion so, I spent days on end in the library, studying textbooks, writing summaries and preparing painstakingly for my tests and exams.

  But, like millions of people the world over, if I had seen this clip last year, I most likely would not have believed it was the First Contact, either. Now, however, after Ivan Lozovsky’s message about our shaky position, I watched the video with rapt attention. One Tong of safety, how long was that? I was not ashamed to stand and ask the presenter.

  “Excellent, very good question!” the diplomat answered, inspired. “We studied the Geckho race’s time reckoning system a while ago, and a Tong is approximately three and a half years. But there are two unclear aspects. First of all, we know that, on the Geckho homeworld Shiharsa, time passes more quickly than on Earth, so a Tong there would be somewhat shorter than it would be here. Six percent shorter, and that is no more and no less than two months and seventeen days. Second, we still haven’t received an answer about when the countdown began. The clips of the Geckho messengers were broadcast for twenty-three days and, each time, they gave the very same one Tong. Some even believe the countdown started, not when the information was first broadcast, but when the first virtual reality pod was built on Earth and the first human entered the game that bends reality.”

  “Virtual reality pod?” asked four-eyed kid, his interest piqued by the odd term.

  “Yes, that’s right, a virtual reality pod. The blueprints at the end of the clips show the general design of virtual reality pods, and how to assemble them. Each diagram is a different element, but it’s all fairly logical and fits together. The first one was assembled in South Korea one year and seven months ago. The first person to enter the virtual world was named Kim In-Hun, a young engineer from a South Korean electronics company. He was also the first person to successfully pass the Labyrinth. Fortunately, he had the good sense not to stray far from where he entered and left to tell the authorities what he’d found. Soon, another few researchers entered the game, then a whole group of thirty Korean soldiers. A month after that, our military intelligence discovered a construction project near the city of Yeongju, a subterranean complex called Nop-Eun Ogsusu, which in translation from Korean means 'tall corn.' Very soon, we also built a couple virt pods and we started construction on the subterranean Dome base in the Moscow Oblast, which is where we are now located...”

  “You mentioned a labyrinth. What was that about?” the nerd interrupted the presenter again.

  The diplomat gave a dissatisfied cringe, but still answered:

  “Yes, after creating a character, every newbie appears in the center of the Labyrinth. It’s supposed to help you get used to the virtual body, train your skills, and test your aptitude. If a new player gets out of the labyrinth within a certain time limit, they will earn extra stat points. It's a very rare chance to strengthen your basic attributes. Other than that, you can basically only level them by training. For that very reason, we have an exact copy of the Labyrinth next to the administration building, and you must learn it by heart before entering the game. Approximately one half hour is given to exit the labyrinth. You must learn to finish it in fifteen minutes. Only after that will you be allowed into a virtual reality pod. Then, when you finish the labyrinth, you are not to spend any stat points. You must take down all your parameters and exit the game. Our experienced mentors will look that over and tell you what skills to take to play effectively and what statistics to reinforce with your unused points.”

  “And what about this ‘corn?’” Our four-eyed colleague just wouldn’t shut up, even though some in the hall had begun to hiss at him.

  The diplomat finally changed to the next slide and, instead of the furry face of our alien master, we saw a tall cylindrical building that looked quite a bit like a corncob.

  “The corn question is the last one I’ll answer right now. If you want to know anything else, ask after my speech, otherwise we’ll never finish,” Ivan Lozovsky said unhappily. “So, the corn and its purpose... One lone virtual reality pod can be placed anywhere, and it will work, drawing energy from the gravitational and electromagnetic fields of our planet. But with multiple pods, it's much more complex. We now have hundreds and must arrange for them to work in concert. After all, a newbie merely entering the game isn’t enough. They must appear precisely in the right place and be correctly identified by the system as a member of our faction...”

  The diplomat took a quick break and splashed some mineral water into a cup. In fact, due to the number of people in the room, it was getting quite hot, and I could stand to wet my whistle as well. He took a few swallows, then continued:

  “By the way, our faction is called Human-3, or H3 for short. That abbreviation will always be shown on your equipment, and it cannot be removed or erased. The Koreans are H0, which means we were the fourth human faction to enter the game that bends reality. Returning to the corn... This arrangement of virtual reality pods was taught to us by the Geckho. It is a tall structure with a central core and separate kernels for each pod. In theory, the height of a ‘corncob’ is unlimited. But in the Dome, we started with one hundred pods per cob, which results in a twenty-story structure. So, your group will be working in corncob number fifteen. It is ready now. We’re working on number sixteen already but getting another hundred people to join our faction is going to take quite some doing!”

  I perked up my ears, preparing to listen to the important information about our player limit the difficulties connected with it, but the diplomat’s speech was interrupted by the deafening wail of a siren. The sound, which was shrill and rattled my bones, reminded me of an air-raid drill. My ears started twitching, then shivers ran over my whole body. After that, a voice thundered out, filling the Dome:

  “ATTENTION, THIS IS THE DOME DIRECTOR. BORDER POST FOUR IS UNDER ATTACK! THE DARK FACTION HAS INTRUDED THROUGH A FOGGY PASS! MORE THAN FOUR HUNDRED ATTACKERS! F
IVE ENEMY TOP PLAYERS HAVE BEEN SPOTTED! TO ARMS!!!”

  Chapter Five. Entering the Game

  AND AT THAT, intro session was put on hold. Ivan Lozovsky said he was not only a diplomat, but also a high-level player, and that it was of vital importance that everyone who could hold a gun went to the front lines. So, the diplomat rescheduled the rest of his two-hour speech to seven AM the next day.

  There were lots of questions being asked, some about the Dark Faction, others about how many border posts we had, and some even more general about the overall situation. But Ivan Lozovsky did not answer of them. Instead, already in the doorway, he turned and told us to head to the residential area and get situated in our dorms, then go to the cafeteria and eat dinner, familiarize ourselves with the daily schedule and rules of the Dome and get some rest. Starting early morning the next day, we were to return for the rest of this presentation, then study the Labyrinth and generate our characters before we finally entered the game that bends reality.

  We left the meeting room. The siren was wailing everywhere. Many people were running in the same direction.

  “Looks like it’s serious. Maybe we should go help?” I suggested but didn’t find any support.

  They all made excuses, saying we’d been given clear instructions on what to do this evening, and no one wanted to break the presumably strict rules on their first day. I took a heavy sigh and walked off after the others. The path to the dorms passed between the corncobs, and I finally saw the tall buildings with my own eyes. To say I was astonished wouldn’t even begin to cover it! They were cylindrical columns two hundred and thirty feet tall, with spiral staircases looping around the outside. The glass kernels protruded from the sides and each housed a metallic germ. Clearly, these were the virtual reality pods.