by K. T. Hanna
After almost three hours of in-game time, Murmur dinged level six, with Havoc and Beastial close behind.
“You hit like a girl, Mur.” Dev laughed as she resummoned her pet.
“Better than hitting like an idiot.”
“Burned you.” Beastial howled.
Dev groaned. “She did not. That was the lamest comeback ever.”
Merlin laughed. “No, that was the lamest comeback ever.”
Beastial was still laughing. “You let a girl burn you so bad!”
Mur smacked him across the back of his head. “Enough with that girl shit. Next time use: you let a kickass enchanter burn you so bad. Got it?”
“Sure thing, Mur.” Beastial winked at her and she rolled her eyes.
Murmur had missed her friends and their group dynamic. She supposed they were going to insist on making the guild. All of them were control freaks to some degree. They wanted to get to and take down the biggest baddest shit they could before anyone else. She knew without even having to ask that all of them planned on finding those twelve keys and whatever they unlocked before anyone else did. It was just something they reveled in. The challenge of leveling successfully and efficiently, and the added bonus of rising to an even greater challenge in the content that awaited them.
Her casting abilities increased, as did her weaponry. Her daggers skill reached higher than thirty, and she began straining to listen again and utilize her hidden skill, even though she still wasn’t certain how to go about it. The thing was, Murmur wasn’t overly eager to hear what her friends thought, and they were the only ones currently close by.
As five o’clock in the morning approached in-game, so did level seven. Level fives began venturing into the area too, obviously looking to level as well. They emerged from the dark elf starting area, Nocturn. Most of them seemed surprised as they waved from the path that led to the guard. Few of them had full groups. It was a hint Mur was glad her mom had given. Group. Group. Group.
Once everyone was level seven, they moved a little deeper, hoping to keep their current skeletons and nab a few level tens. For a couple of hours everything seemed to be going well. The sun rose and was visible in the smatterings of light leaking through the leaves of the trees, and with the addition of numerous level tens, Murmur noticed their experience proceeding well.
All at once, she glanced at the in-game clock and realized it was already nine-thirty in the morning. They’d been playing for over six real hours again, almost fourteen in total. She laughed. Traveling in the game might be a tad too realistic.
“Guys, going to have to take a potty break in a bit.”
“Seriously, Mur,” Dev muttered, smashing in the side of a skeleton’s skull, before it tumbled to the ground in a jumble of bones. “Your bladder has issues.”
She laughed, watching the experience bar inch its way toward level eight. Sin and Dev had their DINGs, and just as they were pushing ten-thirty, Mur dinged too.
“Finally!” She yelled out, but no sooner had the words left her mouth, than her activated hidden skill picked up something right on the edge of her range. A panicked screaming, internally, something akin to ohshitohshitohshit. She caught glimpses of about twelve massive skeletons chasing after a ranger who obviously fucked up.
“Shit. Guys. Train incoming.”
“What?” Dev turned to her. He seemed confused and she didn’t have time to explain. “Where?”
“There.” She indicated the direction and dismissed her pet. “We need to run now. You don’t even get how big that train is.”
“What are you talking about, Mur?” Sin shook her head. “What’s this sixth sense you suddenly have?”
“Oh my god, Sin. You’ve known me long enough. Just fucking trust me—”
Too late. Her party mates gasped as the skeletons became visible through the trees, a whole freaking army of them.
The ranger ran straight toward their camp screaming out a sorry in his wake, as another poor single player soul fell under the rush of the skeleton’s wrath.
Murmur yelled: “RUN!” and turned tail hoping the others headed toward the guard with her. If she lost her level, she was going duel that ranger into oblivion.
Storm Corp
Storm Technologies Division—Theoretical Neuroscience Arm
Countdown: Eighteen months before Somnia Online launch
Michael frowned at the information scrolling in front of his vision. He recalibrated and restarted the system. The scans were slightly different through each AI.
Rav tended toward the more compassionate, Sui was definitely more brutal, and Thra erred just this side of manipulation. These were the forerunner AIs that he’d been working with for years now. They were to run the entire Somnia Online payload, though the company also had sub AIs that would assist them. But a weird sort of itching started in the back of Michael’s mind. Some people might call it a conscience.
He shook his head and dismissed the sensation. After all, the whole point of this operation was not only to read the minds of humans and find out their true strengths, even ones they didn’t know themselves, but to develop an AI capable of interpreting and acting according to each person’s individual make up. The sheer possibilities this presented for future undertakings was infinite.
“Run diagnostic Three-C, Rav.” Michael decided to try again. Perhaps his own thoughts tended to influence how they read him, which would indeed be fascinating. Yet another avenue he could explore and tweak for.
There was a gentle whir, followed by a soft, slightly metallic voice. “Diagnostic Three-C results in tune with previous scannings. Suggested course of action is the medical technology field. Although, might I suggest in the terms of Somnia, you would make an excellent rogue, Dr. Jeffries.”
Michael blinked at the machine. It allocated him a class. “We’re not in the game, Rav, I don’t need a class allocation.”
There was a brief pause in the soft whirr. “You are not currently in Somnia, but you will be. Therefore the class allocation is correct.”
Dr. Jeffries frowned again, and a thought crossed his mind. “Rav. Sui. Thra. What is your prime purpose?”
Sui answered first, its voice taking on a sinuous metallic echo. “To determine which roles humans or other species perform best in.”
“To read their lives and make the decision they may not know as best for them.” Thra’s voice was higher, yet hollow at the same time.
Rav’s answer took a few seconds, “To make sure each candidate is allocated for the best usage of their abilities, regardless of their original goal.”
Michael opened his mouth to speak, but Rav’s fans whirred loudly for a moment, and the AI continued unprompted. “But mental well-being must be taken into account. The human brain is electrical and yet not logical. There are more determining factors than you have given us.”
Dr. Jeffries slowly removed the headgear from his head, frowning at it and his artificial intelligence units. “People aren’t known for doing what is best for them. Many think they know, but are in fact, wrong.”
“Acceptable.” Sui intoned like the gong of a final bell.
Just as Michael was about to heave a small sigh of relief, Thra spoke. “For now.”
Release Day: Somnia Online
Murmur could still hear the ranger’s oh shit mantra as she booked it toward the guard. She could see Merlin and Havoc ahead of her, and hear Beastial and Devlish slowly catching up to her, but Sin... Sin was much farther behind.
“Fuck!” Murmur yelled. “Havoc, grab my target and send your pet to distract them so Sin can catch up.”
Havoc nodded, obviously conserving breath, which was an example she’d be wise to follow. Dying wasn’t the end of everything, but it sure as hell was inconvenient. With the time it took to level, losing any amount of experience was a pain in the ass, and they weren’t even in double figures yet.
At least Devlish had the foresight to yell into the area chat as they passed the log they’d initially met o
n—whether anyone had them enabled or not was another thing—Train to Log guard. Clear a path.
Clamping down on her own thoughts, Murmur remembered Belius saying anybody could be listening and cast her thought sensor out again, trying to gauge the skeletons. Except undead didn’t think, did they?
Since they’d moved farther into the forest, to access the higher level skeletons, the guard seemed to be an age away. Even running with sprint as time allowed, she could sense the skeletons gaining on them. And all of them conned red. What did she want her tombstone to say?
Sin, for all her outgoing personality, wasn’t really an outdoors person.
“Damn it!” She heard Sin, barely, and the expletive followed shortly by a message. I’m rooted. Literally. I’m so fucked.
Havoc reached the sign first just as the guard sensed danger and jogged toward the incoming undead. Beastial, Devlish, and Merlin made it before Mur too. The ranger who started it all, rested against the sign post, eyes downcast, bent down gasping for air with his hands on his knees. Murmur arrived a few seconds later, panting and leaning over, clutching her legs in a way that mirrored the training ranger. Her chest felt tight and her lungs gasped for air. She straightened, looking out at where the guard had run to slaughter the skeletons.
And Sin’s healthbar went black.
Murmur rounded on the ranger. “You idiot! What the fuck did you train right through our group for? What a dick move. You should have died. You’re only fucking five.”
Havoc put a hand on her shoulder, exuding an odd aura of calm, and Murmur shut her thoughts down again, forcing herself to breathe. It was like he’d momentarily shared his ability to be level headed.
“I’m sorry.” The ranger still looked at the ground. “I panicked. It just felt so real.”
Sinister: Fucking shit, fucking goddamn it. Can you drag my corpse to the log? I need to get my shit back, and now I’m like 3% from level. Not fucking cool.
Sin lit up the group chat and her friends collectively cringed.
Havoc turned to the ranger, his calm voice holding a trace of cold anger. “Our healer died thanks to that train. Next time? Don’t panic.”
Murmur scanned the surrounds, but the only thoughts she could pick up were the ranger’s self-recrimination. She sighed and managed to force the words from her lips. “It’s a game. Just try not to spoil it for others in the future.”
Your hidden skill Thought Sensing has increased in strength. Current status: Thought Sensing (7).
Hidden Skill Activated—Thought Shielding.
Class: Enchanter only.
Level—not applicable.
Developing your inner senses has awoken your latent psychic powers. With frequent use your skills will increase, while the opposite will occur should the skill not be used. See your trainer for specifics when you reach Thought Shielding (25).
Your hidden skill Thought Shielding has increased in potency. Current status: Thought Shielding (4)
Murmur frowned as the information scrolled across her screen. She checked her combat log for previous increases realizing the AI must acknowledge when its player was in a difficult situation or something, because it hadn’t given her alerts for the other increases. She liked that element. Maybe she could make it permanent, for everything except chat, which flashed at the bottom anyway. She directed her thoughts toward the HUD to make sure no updates—except level increase—would flash across the screen during combat.
How long is it going to take you to get back here? She sent in the party window.
Sinister: Well, I’m about a third of the way there, so another twenty minutes or so? It’s closer to Nocturn. Is that ranger still there? Can I kill him?
Havoc: You can’t kill him. But it’s okay. Mur already scared him with her cussing.
Murmur shot him a glare, but Havoc just smiled back at her.
“We need to get her back to level eight.” Merlin’s eyes were distant as he spoke. Anyone could multitask with this set up.
“Three percent shouldn’t take too long. Maybe she can get the mob’s health down past fifty percent and then we can kill it the rest of the way for her. She should get solo experience then, right?” Devlish glanced at each of them, his lizard brow raised. “Might be faster that way?”
Murmur shook her head. “Probably not. While she can damage, she’ll have to trade that with healing herself too. Probably not the best strategy for cloth wearers.”
“Point.” Beastial shrugged. “I should have bound somewhere else. Once we head to Nocturn to train for level eight, we’ll bind there.
Murmur opened her spell list and frowned. A new message was scrawled across the top. Please meet with Belius before acquiring your next spells. Your path requires revision.
Weird. Murmur scanned down the list, but nothing was greyed out or seemed to be removed. She pulled up her character information, frowning. Still the same old locus enchanter, level eight. What on earth did the message mean? Her Thought Sensing hadn’t reached twenty-five yet, so that wasn’t it. Of course, it was never going to reach twenty-five if she didn’t use it.
Still leafing through her character data, she activated Thought Sensing with a blink of her eyes, adding her Thought Shield for her own mind as an afterthought. The latter should be easier to level up. After all, if thoughts could really be heard by potentially dangerous characters, getting the skill to a level where she didn’t need to think about it was practically a necessity.
“Here.” Sin arrived finally, panting, and making Murmur wonder, yet again, just how the game created that reaction in their minds. Seemed the AI was a bit of an enchanter itself.
Murmur placed a hand on Sin’s shoulder, squeezing it to lend comfort as her friend bent down to loot the corpse Beastial had retrieved for her. The pale purple body on the ground was indeed lifeless. Perhaps too realistic for Murmur’s tastes.
“I would have been so pissed if I lost that ring.” She announced on standing up. Glancing at Havoc, she paused. “When can you use coffins?”
He blinked and his expression grew thoughtful for a moment, and he cringed. “Level twenty-nine. Let’s not lose a corpse somewhere we can’t retrieve it before then, okay? Because I can’t summon them until then.”
Devlish laughed. “I like this plan. Let’s go get Sin her level back?”
They headed out toward the skeleton fields in the thick of the forest. Luckily, no one had taken their spot yet. It wasn’t like they could slam a sign into the ground claiming it as theirs, after all.
Murmur’s body seemed so far away, like the real world was the dream and the game their reality. It had taken Sin forty in-game minutes, twenty real minutes to reach them, and by the time they got back into a rhythm, it was past midday in-game, making it around three in the afternoon in the real world. Surely they had to be hungry, right? It’s not like in game food was real, but she couldn’t feel any hunger pangs. Murmur frowned at the thought, mechanically allowing her pet to attack, and watching it for a change in target. Sometimes it was very stupid, nothing like the undead Havoc raised.
“Loving the patchwork look there, Dev.” Beastial grinned as he sent his huge cat to pull the Mez’d target back to the group. “Guess these bags of bones are useful for something.”
Devlish grunted—his usual way of communication while concentrating. Murmur knew he’d be more talkative and fun once he got used to his class. He’d never been a tank before, to her knowledge.
“The lack of named mobs is irritating, though.” Merlin scowled, annoyance evident in his voice. “Or maybe we’ve just been spoiled by too many named in other games.”
“I still want to duel that idiot.” Sin’s tone was strained with barely concealed anger. Murmur decided to keep an eye on her friend. After all, when Sin went into a rage, she was the epitome of the redheaded stereotype. Good thing it happened rarely.
When the DING finally came, they all did a little dance. It hadn’t been too long, just another thirty real minutes, but it felt like a
n age. They began making their way back to the lone safe spot in the area. Well, safeish.
“Should we meet back here in what? Four in-game hours?” Havoc ventured.
Murmur closed her eyes, calculating in her head. “No. Let’s make it three. That’s one and a half real hours. I know we’ll need to make it back to here, but all I need is my spells before I head back. And a real world break.”
Sin stood with her hands on her hips. “You realize it’s thirty to forty minutes to Nocturn, and forty minutes back to the log. Training, and figuring out shit will probably take another forty in-game minutes. That only leaves us with thirty minutes of real time out of game. Don’t be so stingy, Mur.”
She raised her hands. “Fine. Fine. Two hours it is then. I just didn’t want to waste that much in-game daylight. But I know I for one am seriously hampered by a lack of level eight spells.”
Devlish laughed and playfully punched her in the arm. “Mur. We’ve got our group back. As long as it’s us, it doesn’t matter if we’re playing during the night, right?”
He did have a point.
“I guess so.”
Arriving at the sign post, Murmur began to cast Gate for the first time.
Murmur appeared almost instantaneously, smack bang in front of the Enchanter Guild. She frowned, having thought the spell would take her to the city gates. With a shrug she headed into the guild.
“Hey there, Elvita,” she called out to the NPC.
“Murmur. Great to see you back. Belius is waiting for you.” Her smile was genuine, and while her tone fell just short of urgency, Murmur took the hint.
The press of people really got to her. Bodies brushed up against her own, and she tested the shielding around her thoughts, finally able to sense the barricade as a tangible sort of thing. At least as tangible as invisible barriers in her mind went. She’d have to check the stats for it at some stage.
As she elbowed her way through to the back hall, she cast out a net, sifting for thoughts that were out of the ordinary. Nothing stood out. Just complaints about loot, gear, and having to go to work for eight hours a day. Most of those thoughts sort of blended together into a general sentiment rather than words. Murmur chuckled as she knocked on Belius’ door.
