by K. T. Hanna
Duration: 24 Seconds
Effect: This spell winds a mind leash around your opponent, as if it were trying to suffocate them. Its damage ticks every three seconds for twenty-four seconds.
Last but not least came the name. Wren smiled, hoping against hope she was early enough to get the name she always used. Typing in MURMUR, she held her breath as she indicated for the system to continue, and her sight went black for a brief moment before opening on a dazzling silver city cresting the top of a mountain range. The air was cool, and a million elements flooded her senses at the same time, leaving her gasping for air.
Storm Corp
Storm Technologies Division—Theoretical Neuroscience Arm
Countdown: Five years before Somnia Online implementation
Doctor Michael Jeffries gazed out at his new laboratory. Well, it wasn’t precisely his, but he was in charge of it. Twenty-three staff, diligently tinkering to recreate his working prototype. He watched them from his perch on the chair at his desk. It swiveled like a barstool, but that’s where the resemblance ended. Its back rose up and cradled him comfortably. Instead of sitting lower than the technicians working so diligently under him, he was there, looking out over them. A sea of minds ready for him to mold, to educate, to read.
“Dr. Jeffries. It’s Edward Davenport on the line.” Jessa glanced up at him. “The CEO.”
Michael resisted the urge to laugh at her. He didn’t need her to tell him who the man was.
“Thank you, Jessa,” he said, instead of the less than flattering terms running through his head. He’d need to get himself a better assistant at some stage, but for now she’d have to do. Plus, she was good at relieving other...tensions.
Clearing his throat, he activated his communication interface. “Hello, Mr. Davenport, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
Michael concentrated on keeping his voice level and not pushing his luck. Teddy Davenport wasn’t known for his patience, or his belief in anything supernatural. Considering the headset would tap into neural activity and translate it, just like a mind reader might, it was probably verging on unbelievable for the old man.
“What’s your ETA on being able to field test the unit?”
Well, at least Teddy cut to the chase. “Field testing is going to take time. It all really depends on the way we approach the testing.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, and for a moment Michael thought the call may have been disconnected.
“What type of testing do you require to make sure this won’t embarrass us?”
Clamping down on his temper, Michael forced a smile and hoped it would carry over in his voice. “All I have right now is the prototype. We’ll be working on building and adapting other versions to test, which will be better internally. Eventually it’ll be best if we can get as large a sample size as possible. Thousands would be best so we have data to extrapolate from. It’s the only way we can know if the readings will be as accurate as it could be.”
“And how do you see us accessing thousands of people? We only have eight years to do this. Wait.”
Michael obliged and waited. Teddy might sometimes be an old fuddy-duddy, but there was a reason Storm Corp was what it was. Becoming one of the world’s three largest corporations hadn’t happened by sheer luck or with bad investments. No, Teddy had a fine business head on his shoulders.
“We have a game in development.”
Dr. Jeffries bit his tongue to stop from yelling out that his prototype wasn’t a game, that reading people’s minds wasn’t a game, but then he calmed, an idea forming in his mind.
“It’s only been in production for a few months, but they’re picking up steam. Virtual reality is trying to take everyone by storm. Would a game environment be a good testing ground?”
Michael had to stop himself from screaming fucking yes out loud. Instead, he counted to three, and gave his answer. “It would make an excellent testing ground, and it would allow us to take our time and get the headgear just right. If we make it a condition that everyone has to undergo a scan in order to play, we’ll get much more consistent data.”
“Excellent. We’ll need those headsets perfected in time to produce them in a few years. For the game. You will receive all the data you need to tweak it further for the military contract.”
“Thank you.” Michael meant it.
Forget thousands. Virtual reality gaming meant hundreds of thousands. He’d never thought he might even have access to that many minds. The thought made him giddy.
“Don’t make me regret it, Dr. Jeffries.”
The call went dead.
Michael leaned back in his chair and smiled. This was going to be so much better than he’d planned.
Release Day: Somnia Online
The sky above Murmur was a crystal clear blue, so vibrant it almost hurt her eyes, and the air was so fresh she could practically taste it. Pillars shot up toward that blue sky from the silver city in front of her, accentuated by the metal wall surrounding it. The gate was about fifty feet from where she stood, and people bustled along the path heading in and out of it. Some snow scattered across the rock at the base of the city wall, but after a few feet it gave way to lush green grass and a gentle slope.
The road she stood on was crudely paved with rock, and when she glanced behind her, she could see dirt take its place several feet farther on. Some locus without weapons were running around in the grass off to the side; upon closer inspection many were running away from some snappy creatures she couldn’t quite make out. Their tall willowy forms appeared gangly and awkward as their players got used to them.
She blinked as notifications appeared in the corner of her vision, and silenced them with a thought. This world was magnificent. While she could feel a chill in the air, it barely registered through her silvered skin. Even the coarse robe she wore should have been useless, but she had a feeling there was a lot more about the locus she needed to discover.
Wren searched for the in-game clock, wanting to track both in-game and real time with ease. Setting them up, she realized it had only taken her about twenty minutes to create her character. That had to be some sort of record for her.
The interface was complex and a little overwhelming. She frowned realizing the spell she’d chosen upon character creation wasn’t slotted. Maybe it was in her inventory then, which was a whole other level of learning the interface. She moved a few steps closer to the guards as she activated her inventory. There, in her seemingly endless bag, was the spell. Her character pulled it out and placed it in one hand. Putting her other hand over it and touching it lightly, Murmur gasped as the spell absorbed into her flesh, causing faint purple runes to gleam under her silver skin. In her peripheral vision she noticed a flash of color too. Upon closer inspection it appeared the fairy lights at the end of her hair lit up when magic was involved.
Wren took an involuntary step back, her gaze returning to her arm, which still tingled even after the runes had faded. This was going to take some getting used to. Letting her gaze travel the length of the arm, she saw her character was elegant, right down to her silvery fingertips. She felt at her face and realized the hair attached to her skull was thick intertwined strands and not bunches. Though not actually tentacles, they felt and looked like it. Glancing down, her legs were long and toned, as if she’d walked everywhere fighting her entire life. The silver glowed faintly with a gentle purple hue behind it. Even better than it had been when she created her character. Her body felt strong. She was glad she’d chosen the locus.
Taking a couple of moments to breathe and get used to her tall body, she reached inside her bag again and retrieved a rather tarnished dagger. Fantastic. That was going to be useful. At least she’d had the foresight to choose the damage spell. Murmur walked closer to the guards, trying to figure out how high a level they were, but all she saw were skulls and a deep red aura. Considering the NPCs told her to not even think about trying anything. It was probably good that the guards to a starting cit
y were high level, otherwise high level players would grief newbies for shits and giggles.
Glancing around, she realized she wasn’t the only one getting used to this new interface and level of immersion. She felt taller than she did in the real world, making balancing as she walked or stood feel a little off. She’d played about six different immersive games since she was twelve, most of them with her parents and Harlow, but her parents had been too busy for the past couple of years.
Still, none of them had this extra sense to them.
She gazed around, watching as others in this area stumbled and staggered a bit as they got used to their own bodies. Those who obviously didn’t wait to attack creatures before learning how to walk, ran for their lives from what seemed to be some sort of beetle.
Murmur grinned. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad in this game after all.
Red script scrolled in front of her eyes. Unique system, really. Most other games just flashed in your vision, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you could be fighting for your virtual life. She motioned for the warning to come back to the center and positioned it slightly lower so that, even if she was fighting, it wouldn’t completely obscure her vision.
All regeneration has been halted until you consume food and drink.
Interesting.
Murmur reached into the bag and pulled out two items. The first was an odd sort of bar, like a protein bar, which she assumed was food. Either that or the admins were playing tricks on the new players by putting turds in their inventory, but she couldn’t see anyone else gasping in horror, so food was the more likely option. A vial about two finger widths in size was filled with a murky liquid she assumed was the drink she needed. She scarfed down both of them, cringing a bit at the lack of taste, and the message stopped blinking. A timer flickered briefly under the in-game clock:
30:00. 29:59…
Each of those had a thirty minute duration then.
Murmur reached into her almost depleted bag and pulled out the letter she’d felt in there earlier.
High Enchanter Belius
Re: Murmur
She was itching to open it, but decided against it. A long time ago there had been penalties in the real world against opening letters not intended for you. Knowing her luck, she was sure something bad would happen here too. Letter in hand, she passed into the locus city, Stellaein, the guards barely glancing at her as she walked by.
The streets were paved with stone that gleamed so brightly she at first thought it was metal, but the sound of her barely clad feet on it wasn’t right. Neither was the texture as she bent down to feel it. Touch was magnificent. She could feel the coarse grain as it strained against her fingertips with its slightly gravelly texture.
The buildings were hewn out of stone so smoothly it appeared as if they were metal too, as if they’d been carved out of the mountain itself. Beautiful tints of blue and charcoal interlaced with the silver to create an enchanting presence. For just a moment, Murmur wondered if the city itself were an illusion, but one hand against the surface of a wall was enough to convince her of its authenticity.
She walked past a shop on either side, and came to a large circular opening. From its center rose a three locus statue. The first, an archer, back straight and proud as they drew their bow. The second, a healer, probably the cleric, with an axe shining with divine light. The third, a caster, with a glowing staff, and robes whipping in the wind. The fountain rotated, giving the statues a lifelike appeal. A strange sense of peace and power emanated from it. Calming.
Shops littered around the fountain. There was what appeared to be a bakery, and a tailoring shop. Locus bustled about inside them, visible through the windows as they prepared for the day. The city was waking up, and life began to spill out onto the paths.
Even now, at not even seven in the morning in the game world, several locus children chased each other around the sculpture. Next to the fountain was a post with multiple directional tags on it. Sighing with relief, Murmur approached it, seeking out the Enchanter Guild.
“Hey. You look like you’re new here.”
Murmur sighed inwardly. Fantastic, looks like it was starting already. She glanced back. “No newer than you.”
The male locus behind her laughed. It was a good-natured sound, with a chime of dissonance echoing after it. “I’m level two, so you are newer.”
“Have you been to see your class trainer yet?” Having found out how to get to the Enchanter Guild, she turned to face the conversationalist. He looked at her blankly, as if he was scanning his interface to attempt to find out what she was talking about.
“You have a letter for your trainer. Go give it to them. Then go level.” She attempted a smile, not entirely sure of the outcome considering the facial structure was different to that of humans. But he didn’t seem to mind.
“Hey. Thanks. Guess I got caught up in the game.”
“Easy to do. Have fun.” She smiled at him and walked past. The area wasn’t crowded, but it definitely wasn’t empty. Being nice could hurt if she wasn’t careful. Especially with the virtual aspects to games these days, it was always good to be on her guard. Glancing ahead, she searched for the path she’d have to take to the right to find the guild. It was close to the center of town from what she could tell.
“Name’s Jirald.” The friendly guy called after her.
Her interface automatically added it to her People I’ve Met list.
“Murmur,” she called back, still intent on her destination. For several seconds she could still feel his eyes boring holes in her back.
The street grew run down the closer she got to her turn off. She frowned, glancing around. Perhaps each city area had a slum. Drawing too much reality into a game was a possibility she wasn’t sure she liked. After all, like most other people, she came here to escape the real world. With jobs scarce and futures uncertain, MMORPGs were a huge draw.
She turned down the last right before the city devolved, and immediately the facades were brighter. Frowning, she continued on, trying to ignore the tugging at the back of her mind that maybe the slums deserved a bit of a closer look. Trainer first, then the slums. And seeing if Harlow had finally made it in.
Most of the structures on her path were cheerful. They had window boxes full of white flowers that seemed to blend perfectly with the blue and silver gleam of the city. The windows were open, and voices could be heard softly drifting out onto the street. Nothing defined, just the cheery bustle of city life. At the next intersection, another sign stood. But its Enchanter Guild directional sign was largely superfluous considering the building stood on the corner and couldn’t be missed.
A rainbow of colors rippled over the Enchanter Guild headquarters. Power pulsated from it so much that even Murmur in all her untrained glory could see its aura. Flowers decorated the window boxes, and a joyful vibe permeated the whole structure.
Summoning her courage, Murmur headed inside. Speaking to strangers had never been her forte. That’s where Harlow shone. But the damned girl obviously hadn’t made a locus had she?
Murmur approached the counter in the large building, letter in hand. The locus behind the counter smiled. The expression was slightly alien on a face with only two holes as a nose. But the fact that the eyes were a solid color meant that when the smile reached them, a whole solar system sparkled back at you. The result was endearing, charming—she was definitely an enchanter.
“Just go through to the back, take the corridor to the right, and then...Belius is it? Third on the left.” The kind locus motioned her through. “Go on, young one. I promise you Master Belius doesn’t bite.”
Murmur laughed it off, a bit irritated at herself for acting in such an odd manner in a game, and yet oddly comforted by the Non Player Character. “Thank you.”
She headed through to the back.
There weren’t as many people in the corridor as Murmur thought there would be. Perhaps not many had chosen to play a locus, instead favoring the usual species like h
umans, elves, dark elves, dwarves, and gnomes. Personally, she thought it was far more fun to be something that wasn’t remotely similar to your real life persona.
Arriving at the door she’d been directed to, Murmur raised her fist and knocked three times.
“Come in.”
She pushed the door open and came face to face with what seemed to be an elderly locus. White tufts grew where his hair should be. Perhaps he’d lost it in a battle. He chuckled at her scrunched up brow. “Welcome, dear Murmur, I’ve been expecting you. You think far too much; I can almost hear you. Be careful. Mind magic has many uses, young enchanter.”
Murmur focused on his words, and noticed his mouth hadn’t moved. He was speaking into her mind? “How...What...”
This time when he laughed, his mouth moved, and he held out a hand for the envelope. “It’s our secret, for now. Perhaps another time, when you’ve adjusted to this world and your abilities.” He scanned the letter briefly, a flicker of consternation briefly entered his expression before he looked back up at her.
“Ah, yes. Yes. I understand this is not the path you thought your life would take, but I assure you, for you this is the correct path.”
Murmur blinked at him, fighting the scowl her lips wanted to curl into. How the hell did he know she didn’t want to be an enchanter? “Well, I’m an enchanter now, aren’t I?”
“That you are. Try not to fight it too much. I am here to train you when you need training. Every time you gain a level of experience, you will also gain training points. You may use these training points in whatever way you wish. You can save them up and use them later all at once, but it’s best to try and keep your skill levels of both spell casting and experience similar.”
Murmur nodded. Made perfect sense. “So my skill levels can exceed my experience level then? By how much?”
Belius smiled. “It depends on how often it is used, and how much experience it is possible for the spell or ability to grant you.”
