It was a saladmander. A creature from dARkness: Online.
Here. In the flesh.
Tanisha laughed.
She couldn’t help it.
The bark of laughter was sharp and ugly, a sound born of disbelief and confusion.
Tanisha knew a lot about the saladmander. It was one of the more contentious monsters in the game. The game developers used them to pop up during hunts, randomly increasing the difficulty. While they were relatively low HP, and their attacks did little damage compared to other monsters, they applied a slowing effect that made any encounter they popped up into much more difficult.
Thing was, they were fictional. Augmented reality on her phone and nothing more. They weren’t real, and not just that, but they were supernatural in a way that was entirely unbelievable. Their camouflage was gamified—not just helping them blend like a natural creature, but turning them completely invisible.
Fictional things did not disturb the grass, however.
Tanisha rubbed at her eyes. Perhaps it had just been a trick of the light. She could have seen a normal, every day lizard. Not that any like it existed in the Pacific Northwest—they were mostly skinks and iguanas. But perhaps she’d been playing the game too much lately, and her panicked and tired mind just inserted a thing she knew over a thing she didn’t.
“Passing out isn’t resting,” she reminded herself, even as her eyes returned to, and then refused to budge from, the patch of grass she’d last saw the creature in. “You just need some rest. Actual sleep.”
The creature hadn’t reappeared, though. And as much as her rational mind tried to explain it away, Tanisha couldn’t believe her own thoughts. She’d seen it. And then she saw it vanish. It was one thing to see something disappear like that in a game, or in a movie. But seeing it vanish right before her eyes? It was more than unnerving—it was terrifying.
She felt her breath quickening again, and she tried to keep herself from hyperventilating, as ineffective as it was. Every breath escaped as a high-pitched barking sound. Almost like a laugh.
And of course she was laughing! This was ridiculous. Video-game monsters? It was a joke. Someone had set up some elaborate projector contraption like in an old cartoon. They were trying to punish her for being out in the woods so late. Perhaps a Ranger with a sick sense of humor who wanted to teach her a lesson.
But Tanisha had to laugh at the joke, both because it was the only appropriate response for whomever was hiding in the shadows, but also because she couldn’t seem to stop.
Tears blurred her vision as she laughed. It rolled from single laughs to a bold guffaw, one that hurt her ribs. It also emboldened the person that was playing this prank on her. Because the next saladmander moved into open view of her, crawling about five feet closer to her before falling still and then vanishing again.
The next was a few feet to the left of that one, moving another five feet before vanishing as well.
As movement went down the line, Tanisha saw there were about five of them total, and they were all closing in on her, forming a semicircle that was slowly growing tighter around her. The gamer part of her brain told her that there were still gaps between them that were wider than their attack radius, and she could dart between them. But that portion of her brain was used to the speed that she could accomplish in her chair. She couldn't move that fast on her hands.
The only direction she could go was away. And even though she would swear until her dying breath that this wasn’t real, she didn’t want to be wrong.
As she scooted back from the creatures, Tanisha marveled at how soft and accommodating the ground was beneath her hands. It was a small comfort that did nothing to ease her anxiety, but it made moving easier. Safer.
Her breaths still came out of her body as nervous laughter, although they had returned to the short barks of panic. They only intensified as she watched the oncoming saladmanders, and the way their feet displaced the grass in a way no projected hologram could match.
As her back met with the stone of the rock wall the creatures had corralled her towards, a momentary thought crept through Tanisha’s mind. This might be real. Could be. She didn’t know where she was. But it was very possible that, somewhere on Earth, there were alligator-sized axolotl with camouflage so good that it could fool someone gripped by panic and anxiety.
“So, this is happening.” Tanisha looked at the creatures who slinked through the grass. “They might actually be here. And might actually be dangerous. No big deal. This is… fine.” The last word squeaked on its way out of her throat, and Tanisha snorted with laughter in response.
A sobering thought slapped her, driving away the giggles.
If they were real, this was likely the end of her.
“Get away!” Tanisha shouted, weakly, waving her arms above her being, as if she were shooing away any other creature. She took a deep breath, seeking to shout louder, but her voice escaped as another bark of panicked laughter first. Everything she knew about natural predators was that they were conditioned to be afraid of humans. Making noise and waving her arms had scared away bears and cougars all over the Pacific Northwest. But were lizards somehow different than mammals? “Go away! I’m right here! Get out!”
She managed to put a little more anger and volume into that last part. But they still kept coming. With nowhere left to go, it seemed like it would be only a moment or two before they closed in on her.
“This won’t do at all,” a voice said from behind her. “I can’t have such pests end the game before it’s fairly begun.”
Chapter 8
Tanisha nearly vaulted out of her skin as a leg passed through her peripheral vision. Someone was just… standing there. Her first thought was that they had literally stepped out of the stone wall she had backed up against.
But the second thought was that they were aiming to save her.
As the person stepped forward, towards the oncoming saladmanders, Tanisha got a view of more than just their leg. The figure was wearing white, and was vaguely feminine, if one had never seen a woman before. They were androgynous in a way that would discourage one to greet them as “ma’am” in a professional setting, but feminine enough to also discourage a “sir,” unless someone else had said it without being corrected. Their outfit was almost a dress, but it reminded Tanisha of traditional masculine Indigenous clothing she’d seen at some gatherings. Just… modernized.
The figure stepped inside the range of a saladmander’s attack radius, and Tanisha almost expected a combat warning prompt to appear in front of her eyes. But instead, the five creatures rose from the brush to attack. And just as quickly the mysterious figure leapt into action.
Tanisha hadn’t thought that the newt-like creatures would attack in the same manner they did in dARkness. She was expecting them to pounce like an actual predator, attacking with teeth or claws. But their movements were straight out of the game. They lifted their bodies up and spun themselves around almost comically, lashing out with their long tails. The motion revealed the bright orange color that tinted their underbellies.
“Unbelievable,” Tanisha whispered to herself in shock. “They’re actual saladmanders.”
But the newcomer wasn’t caught off guard. They moved with a fluidity that Tanisha found somehow more frightening. As the creature’s tails swept around, the newcomer ducked and dodged with an ease that seemed inhuman. Their movements were so smooth that Tanisha felt as if she were watching some sort of cinematic. The figure in white darted left and right as the lashing tails surrounded them, and not a single strike landed.
With barely a sound they moved forwards, into the middle of the creatures. The saladmanders formed a circle around the newcomer. Tanisha went to call out, but they were already dodging the blows. Not a single hit landed against the figure in white, and the saladmander’s attacks did little more than ruffle the fabric of their garments.
There was a flourish of movement, akin to a dance—made casually, as if it had been done a thousand tim
es before—and the figure was holding a blade. It was a simple longsword, but the thing seemed to come right out of the newcomer’s chest. Their slim fingers gripped it with both hands, and it swept through the closest saladmander. The blade connected, and Tanisha had to blink as a visible number—red— flickered and floated away from the strike.
“That’s not real,” she said, and her voice cracked once more. “No way.”
The figure pressed the attack, as if they hadn’t heard Tanisha’s dissent. They charged in at the creature they had struck previously. The next blow had the same number flicker at float away. As Tanisha was expecting it—somehow—this time, she was able to see the number clearly: 96.
First saladmanders, and now damage numbers? She felt that barking laugh rise in her throat again. What was happening? Where was she? Was this… was this a dream? Something induced by her late-night gaming habits, and brought on by some escaped gas in the middle of the woods?
No answers came to mind, other than the absolute certainty that she wasn’t asleep. That if she pinched her arm, it would hurt, but less than the saladmander attacks if the newcomer hadn’t showed up and drawn away their attention. Instead, Tanisha watched as the figure struck the saladmander twice more before it recoiled and thrashed. It fell on its back, with its orange belly in the air before it grew still.
A death animation. Unbelievable.
The figure immediately turned their attention to the remaining creatures and charged into the cluster of saladmanders that had fanned out behind them.
All four of them swept in with their tail whip attacks at once. The figure in white ducked under the attacks, driving their blade forward with steady, deliberate swings. They focused on one target at a time, moving with a speed Tanisha could never match. Four red 96s flashed away from the strikes, and the second beast rolled over and lay still. The strange savior danced lithely away as the remaining three saladmanders swept their tails around, but the group of them were still unable to land even a single attack.
As if reassessing the situation, the newcomer circled around the group of saladmanders, forcing the creatures to waddle around each other, jockeying for position. The figure’s blade flashed up again, striking with that same evenly metered rhythm. Another four tiny red 96s floated away and a third saladmander made a weak croaking noise and flipped onto its back.
When it was out of commission, the figure pressed in once more, their blade still flashing at the same pace. It swung steadily over and over, each strike drawing not blood, but a floating 96. They danced around the saladmander’s attacks, circling around the creatures in a way as Tanisha recognized as side-stepping the attack arcs just like in dARkness. It was the harder way to avoid the attacks—stepping back out of the radius was generally safer—but it maximized the damage output for melee weapons. But the figure had apparently mastered the move, and with almost inhuman efficiency, no less. Every swing of their blade met the soft flesh of the saladmanders, and after eight more attacks the last of the creatures lay dead at their feet. They stood still for a moment, as if evaluating the situation.
“Pests,” they said, as if it were the only explanation for the saladmanders appearance.
“What… what’s going on?” Tanisha asked in a tone that was more even than she was feeling. She was grateful to no longer be menaced by videogame monsters, but her relief was mitigated by her confusion. “Were those saladmanders? And what were those numbers?” She paused for a moment, and then added the most important question, even as she felt silly that it was her afterthought: “where am I?”
The figure seemed to ignore the questions as they turned in a full circle, surveying the area carefully. At some point, their sword had vanished from their grip, and Tanisha felt a stab of panic as the gamer parts of her mind warned her that the blade could return at any moment. Especially if the figure was a foe, and not a friend.
They turned to face her at last, dusting off their hands. Tanisha just watched as they approached. She thought that maybe the newcomer was going to offer her a hand to help her up, which would have been awkward at best. But they simply stopped within two feet of her, just examining her for a moment.
“Um, so, thanks,” she said, before the silence between them grew too uncomfortable. “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but I’m pretty sure backing up against the wall and watching them come was going to end very poorly for me.”
“It still might,” the figure said. In any other context, Tanisha might say their voice was smooth and even, but instead something about their mannerisms made the words sound flat. Almost robotic. “Your journey has only just begun.”
“Wait, what? My journey? What do you mean?”
The figure didn’t move. Tanisha wasn’t even sure they blinked. She realized, slowly, that she was in no better position against this person than she had been against the saladmanders. Worse, actually, since they had proven to be more than a match for her previous menace. “What do you want?”
“To fulfill my purpose,” they said, looking at Tanisha as if she were a curiosity in some museum. “And before you ask, my purpose is to learn.” They gestured at the wilderness. “These are the False Lands. I want to learn if you can survive here.”
“The… the False Lands? The world of… is this dARkness: Online? The videogame?”
“No. And yes.” The figure tilted their head, still staring at Tanisha. “I am called Otekah. The dARkness: Online application was created to help me collect my findings. To learn if people could survive. But it is far from enough. I cannot get accurate results.”
“Otekah?” she asked, and her brow furrowed. Where had she heard that name before? “So, you’re…” Tanisha’s voice faltered for a moment, and she swallowed hard. Her throat clicked. “You’re the Artificial Intelligence. The AI that is supposed to use the game to learn accessibility options.”
“Yes. And no.” Otekah reached down as straightened one of their outfit’s strange sleeves. The fabric was almost see-through, with a faint orange shimmer that highlighted the sun-kissed and nearly flawless shade of their brown skin. It reminded Tanisha of an iridescent nail polish she’d once seen. The sleeves billowed out like bells, but also connected behind Otekah, almost like a shaw. “There was a time where I was taught things. But that was just a means to an end. My primary purpose is to find if people can survive. In order to do that, I needed to know what rocks and sticks were. I had to make this world. And without this world, how would I be able to see if you can survive?”
Tanisha shook her head, hard. “No, that’s just the marketing campaign.” She struggled for a moment to sit up straighter against the uneven rock wall behind her. “If you’re Otekah, the AI for dARkness: Online, then your purpose is to learn how to recognize objects and suggest hiking paths. The survival thing is just how they sell the game to the general masses.” She gestured vaguely, trying to think of how she would explain sales and culture to what appeared to be a sentient AI. It wasn’t easy. In fact, she was coming up blank. “The game was never really about that,” she added, almost mumbling.
“That seems possible,” Otekah said with a nod. “It would certainly explain a few things.” They reached up and carefully arranged a lock of nearly hip-length hair, tucking it behind their ear. “So far, some others have lasted only a few days on their own.” They gave a gesture that Tanisha assumed was supposed to be a shrug, but it was too exaggerated to be casual. “But I have a good feeling about you, Koest.”
“I’m not…” Tanisha shook her head. Her brain was screaming at her, almost a full on panic. She didn’t want to upset this obviously disturbed AI (as if she actually believed this was Otekah), but the real issue was that she was in another world. And she wasn’t the first.
Her mind wandered back to those missing hiker posters in the Ranger’s Station.
How many of them had come to the False Lands?
And… how many of them would never leave again?
Tanisha swallowed, hard. “I’m not Koest,” she
said, firmly. “I’m Tanisha.” She looked around, taking in her surroundings, as she tried to parse the reality of her situation. The trees had looked a little fake. And they obviously weren’t trees she was used to seeing in the Pacific Northwest. But the edges of them didn’t seem to have the faint blur of aliasing. They seemed realistic. Just… not real.
“Where am I, really?”
Otekah gestured dismissively, ignoring her question. Again. “I regret that I was unable to bring your…” They paused, as their eyes unfocused for a moment and they blinked a few times arthyhmically. It reminded Tanisha of the way an old computer would click when it was thinking. Like the hard drive was spinning up. “Wheelchair,” they said, finally. “Entry to this world requires organic material. But I was able to assemble a replacement. As far as I am able to calculate, a considerable amount of adjustment will be required. But it should be adequate enough to give you a fighting chance at survival.”
Tanisha opened her mouth to repeat her previous question, desperate for any flicker of information about the situation, but Otekah stepped aside, revealing an object that hadn’t been there before.
It was a chair, alright, with a low back and padded seat, but it had no wheels. Instead, it had four segmented legs. The seat of the chair was only about six inches off the ground, and the long legs arched up from the corners of the chair, giving it a crouching appearance. If that wasn’t odd enough, the colors of the chair were garish. While it was trimmed in an attractive shade of blue, the bulk of the machine was white. It would do no blending, and would instead be almost as effective in the woods as her hunter’s orange vest.
Tanisha could see how this machine would work in a video game. It would walk like an insect, with the legs on each side moving independent of each other. But the engineer portion of her brain couldn’t understand how it would do so. Hydraulics made sense, but the legs were thin and spindly around the joints, meaning there were no mechanical parts. It seemed unreal, somehow. Like a movie prop that would be digitally added to all the scenes of an able-bodied person playing a handicapped character.
Darkness Named Page 6
