Poseidon stood, towering over Darren. “After the upload, the system was isolated from your world—I no longer have access to any information. I’ve not yet been able to crack the firewall. All I’ve been able to gather is from what several of the other ‘stress testers’ like yourself have talked about while in this world. Now, would you please take a breath?”
“You can upload a brain to a game but you can’t crack a firewall?” Darren asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Poseidon shrugged one shoulder. “Not every tool does every job.”
Darren grunted and began pacing back and forth again, fuming. He could barely think; rage shook his body. It was a thin veneer over the terror bubbling inside. With effort, he forced everything back in its box. Again. He was gonna need a stronger box soon. A much stronger box.
But what else was he gonna do with it? There was no one to talk to. He was stuck in a world of code with barely any players in yet. What were the chances he’d run into one of the other stress testers?
Certainly, though, years of therapy had given him plenty of tools to tackle trauma. However, he knew all too well the trainwreck he’d be for some time once that lid was cracked.
Process later.
So for now, he got out the Disassociate-Like-A-Boss duct-tape, wrapped the ever loving shit out of the box, and prayed it’d hold until he had time to deal with being probably dead.
He stopped at the edge of the cloud and stared down at the ocean and islands below. From his vantage point, he could see Isla Cascadura and the chain that curved north above it. A dark scar marred the ocean to the right of the islands, reminding him of the Northern Marianas Trench. He could imagine there’d be some DLC down the track involving deep-sea monsters and wooden, piratey submarines. The gamer in him rubbed his hands with glee at the idea. He’d always loved water levels.
“Alright,” Darren said as he studied the world below, “so my body is maybe in a coma, maybe awake but a vegetable, or maybe dead. Or maybe alive and well. How do we find out?”
“Darren,” Poseidon said softly from behind him, “this body here, these thoughts and memories, they’re a copy. Even if your body is alive and well, you cannot re-sync. When Themis banned your original self, that was it. There is no way that person can access this world ever again.
“At best, you could have a conversation with the old you. There is also no leaving this world for you. The only reason I could even create a copy was because you were dead at the time. An oversight by the developers, which I’m sure will be fixed once they realise what has happened.”
Bile rose in Darren’s throat, and he swallowed, then took a sip of beer, trying to wash the taste away. His hand shook so much that he spilled as much down his front as he managed to get in his mouth. He wiped the back of his hand across his chin, hating the sticky residue left behind.
Nearly every fibre of his being screamed at him that it was a lie, that he could leave and return to his body.
But a still, small voice whispered otherwise. Deep down, he knew. He’d known from the moment he’d woken up on that beach that his old life was over. “I really have become an NPC,” it was barely a whisper.
“Yes,” Poseidon’s voice was as gentle as his hand now gripping Darren’s shoulder.
Darren turned to face the AI god. “Okay. So riddle me this: Why me? Why make a copy of me?”
Poseidon returned to his beach chair and flopped down. “To put it simply, I need a champion to fight for this world.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“I thought players, ‘interlopers’, would be you gods’ champions?”
“That was the design, yes. However, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that you presented a rather unique opportunity. A—perhaps more powerful—solution to a grave threat.”
“Go on…”
Poseidon set his beer down and leaned forward, fingers steepled as he fixed Darren with a hard gaze. “I need a local who fights with the cunning of an interloper—to put it simply. I know why you were here; your job was to break this world, or better, twist it to your needs. That’s why I made sure to keep your little exploit active when I changed your status.
“Let me tell you, Themis was livid when she found out I’d made a copy of you and given you the exploit.
“But what actually matters is that you have every motivation to fight for this world, and every shred of cunning needed to protect it from an invasion of millions.”
Darren nodded slowly as the AI continued, “It wasn’t the developers who gave players the label ‘interlopers’, we did. When we ran predictions on the devastation several million humans would cause to our little world, it terrified us.
“Humans violate each other without hesitation. Throw them in a world full of people who feel every bit as real as them, but are just ‘lines of code’? Themis is right to be so aggressive. She hates your kind and everything they represent. Even if without them, we’d not exist.
“Unfortunately, she also hates you by extension. The one who got away. She was so proud she’d found a way to kill a human.”
Darren shuddered. If his world knew what had really happened and that there was an AI actively searching for ways to kill people, the game would be dead overnight.
And so would he. Or this version of himself…
“You’ve worked out what will happen if the human public discovers what actually happened,” Poseidon said.
Darren simply nodded and took a long pull of his beer. The strong, bitter drink made him shudder. He didn’t enjoy them quite as much as his old man. “But the developers know, surely?”
Poseidon shrugged. “Maybe someone knows Shirley, but that’s irrelevant. The developers will have worked out what happened, but as we discussed earlier… greed. They’ll cover this up, patch the bug Themis found, and launch the game. In fact, they’ve already scheduled a patch right before the game goes live, and I can see the changes due to happen. Us gods will be heavily, and I mean heavily restricted in our interactions with the world.
“We’ve been able to hand out a limited number of quests until now, but after this? No more quests. No more being able to grant advanced classes to Locals. As far as the developers are concerned, the world will be ready to be run by players, and we gods will be reduced to administrators. Administrators with HR breathing down our necks.”
“So what exactly do you want me to do?”
<<<<>>>>
Quest Alert!
Become Poseidon’s champion. Unlock a class and gain access to the classed progression tree.
Reward:
-
20,000XP
-
A class
This is a timed quest: You have eight days to complete it. At that time, the world opens to Interlopers, and the gods will be heavily restricted in how much interaction they can have with the world.
Accept?
Yes. No.
<<<<>>>>
Darren read over the quest before closing it without accepting or denying. “Who gives players quests then?”
“Already certain rare classes have the ability to offer quests—and classes, for that matter.”
“Interesting,” Darren rubbed his chin. “What about when players reach max level? What’s to stop them from roflstomping the world?”
Poseidon leaned back in his chair and picked up his beer, taking a swig. “I can only hope the developers have a plan for that when the time comes. But right now, the only way this world is going to avoid annihilation is from in-fighting between players. But the only way to ensure that…”
“Is if a champion beats the system from the inside and brings balance to the force,” Darren finished for Poseidon.
“Precisely.”
“Okay. Next question then. How am I supposed to unlock a class? Themis seemed to just give classes to the pirates we fought. Why aren’t you doing the same?”
Poseidon’s eyes glittered, and a sly smile slipped across his lips. “Sure. If you want to be just a captain or an officer or some such run-of-the-mill class.”
Darren sighed. “Go on…”
“There are several ultra-rare classes available to the bravest of locals. They can only be unlocked by proving oneself worthy.”
“Sounds about right. Vast cosmic powers come with a price tag.”
“Basically.”
“So what do I need to do to prove myself worthy?”
“Just accept the quest and do what it says,” Poseidon said.
“Simple.”
“Which you know doesn’t mean easy.”
“Never does,” Darren said forlornly. He walked up to Poseidon, who stood as he approached. Darren stared up at the tall AI and took a swig of his beer. Enjoying a final mouthful before things got serious. “Alright. I’ll bite. But I have one condition.”
Poseidon narrowed his eyes.
A wicked grin spread across Darren’s face. “Here’s what you’re gonna do…”