Chris’s thoughts were turning like a waterwheel, spinning like a top, ticking away like gears in an expensive Swiss watch. Each of his ideas fell into place with unmatched clarity, and he could physically feel his subconscious humming underneath, like the purr of a great cat. His brain had been stuffed with cotton, and lubricated with jelly, but now it was stripped clean. He was a well-oiled machine, wielding his focus as a scalpel.
He was currently bringing his great brain to bear, searching for a way out.
“Is this… necessary, boss?” he said, buying time. His expression was cool and unbothered, betraying no hint of the brain running full tilt underneath.
“Yes. Your clothes are falling off you, and you’ll need the skill levels.” Nova replied coolly from her recliner, eyes focused on a tablet in her lap, typing away at entries on a list.
“Doesn’t Juliette work for the costume department? Wouldn’t she be better suited for this?” His gaze involuntarily slid to the sewing machine that was likely very expensive in the 80’s, but was now occupying a position of honor on the living room table.
“Yes, which is why she will be showing you the basics tonight.” Juliette reached over Tina from her position on the other side of the couch and sympathetically pat him on the back. “You can finish deep-cleaning the house, if you’d like, but this should be your next project.” She looked up from her tablet, and noticed the discomfort in his bearing. “I thought you would enjoy this sort of task?”
Kristina laughed. “Don’t worry, he will. He’s just annoyed that he’s being told to do it. If he had thought of it first, you wouldn’t be able to tear him away. You like doing things for people,” she reached up and patted him on the cheek, “don’t you, you big softy?”
As he swatted her hand away, his ticking clock brain insisted that she was right. He likely would enjoy altering clothes to fit for his friends and himself, he was just being stubborn. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Good”, Nova muttered, and moved to the next item on her list. “Alright, next is covering our bases. If our group is going to eventually see combat, and Chris believes it will,” she looked over to confirm with Chris, and he nodded grimly. He had spoken with Sarah too much to think that they could get through this without fighting. “then we need to designate one of us as the medic, preferably with a few shifts to help us heal. If no one else is willing, then I will…”
“I volunteer”, interrupted Max’s basso rumble, amusement coloring his voice.
“Oh, alright then.” Their leader said, visibly relieved. Nova had no interest in being the team’s designated healbot. It sounded terribly stressful, and not particularly interesting. She was meant for dealing damage, not fixing it. “What’s your plan?”
“I had Chris look up a few shifts for me. We think these two will work well together.” He passed Nova a notecard, who entered the information onto her tablet.
Directed Regeneration: 0/X (100)
Upgrades the subject’s immune system into a new class of cells, significantly more effective at the repairing of injuries and wounds of all kinds. Simple wounds such as lacerations often heal at a rate visible to the naked eye. This immune system functions without direction, but in emergency, can be concentrated on life-threatening wounds, keeping the subject from death. Higher levels in this shift improve number, speed, and efficacy of the cells, as well as degree of control. Slightly increases resistance to disease. Slightly increases growth resulting from musculoskeletal damage.
Immune Overwrite 0/100
Gives subject the ability to overwrite another human’s immune system with their own, given focus and physical contact from the subject. Takes a period of directed focus to take effect, and the overwritten human’s immune system gradually retakes control after physical contact is broken. Amount of time and focus required to overwrite decreases with points invested. Time the overwrite lasts increases with points invested, up to 48 hours when fully purchased. Subject’s immune system becomes DNA null, eliminating immune rejection.
“Good backup plan, boss?”
Nova thought for a moment, and passed the card around the room. “Can directed regeneration regrow limbs and organs?”
“It can, we checked. It’s slow at low levels, and can’t handle nasty diseases, but still. The combo should let me play off-tank and healer at the same time.”
She nodded. “Good backup plan. Now, next item is…”
“Hold,” said Chris, and everyone in the room turned to look as his eyes unfocused.
Are you ready to begin the next phase of system integration, Christopher?
The room watched as Chris grew tense and let out a sigh before replying. “I don’t exactly have a good track record of enjoying new aspects of the system, Sarah. You told me you can’t integrate my friends for months yet, so what do you mean?”
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I have finally integrated enough with your world that I can begin my next phase of testing. Did you believe that I was only evaluating how your bodies react to the system? I also need to evaluate your decision making, and how you respond to stressors.
“It doesn’t sound like I’m going to enjoy this testing.”
It contains elements of struggle and risk, but overcoming challenges is something you have demonstrated enjoying in the past.
“Do I get anything out of it, or are you going to force the issue?”
You always have a choice, Christopher. Often, it will be strongly in your best interest to agree, but you always have the option to refuse. The system is for your benefit, this is not a hostage situation.
Chris cleared his throat, wrapped his arm around the girl at his side, and looked seriously around at the Rogues Gallery. His friends. He spoke aloud for the first time in the conversation. “She wants to test me, see how I respond to stress”. The atmosphere in the room grew tense. “Alright, what do you want me to do?”
At 8pm local time, you will be given the option to enter an Instance, something of a pocket dimension, where you will be tested. You will experience an extended scenario, in which you will need to rely on your ingenuity, personal strength, and shifts in order to succeed. These Instances will take place once a month, and you will only have one chance to accept each one. If you decline, you will have no choice but to wait for the next cycle.
Chris dictated all of this to the group, Nova frantically taking down the words as they were spoken, onto her tablet. After he was finished, he prompted Sarah to continue. “What do I have to gain?”
After the Instance is complete, you will be assessed rewards based on your performance. These can take many forms, but if you choose to be rewarded in points, you have the possibility to earn more at once than you have accumulated up to this point.
He dictated this as well, and the room broke out in whispering. He paused for breath, then asked the question that was on all their minds. “And what happens if I fail?”
Your performance up to the point of failure will be assessed. If you perform poorly enough, you will be assessed a reward point penalty, or be stripped of shifts if you have none to spare.
“Since I’m certain these will involve combat, can I die? If I die in the matrix, do I die in real life?” The room held its breath, waiting for an answer only Chris could hear.
If you are about to sustain a fatal injury, the Instance is automatically failed. Upon the end of a scenario, by success or failure, your injuries will be stabilized, but not fully healed. You cannot die as a result of an Instance, but you will feel the full extent of pain from your injuries.
“But I might wish I had, huh.” He relayed this to the group, and they broke out in frantic discussion. 8pm was barely 20 minutes away. The group consensus, after a few minutes of arguing, was that the reward wasn’t worth the risk. Chris had only fought in life or death combat once before, and in a worst-case scenario, he would end up grievously injured and down an unknown number of reward points. Just as they were about to take a vote, with Chris’s as the tiebreaker of course, Juliette spoke up.
“Where’s the stick?” she asked the room. She had a habit of asking the right questions, so they each considered the question seriously. Ben was the first to respond.
“Well, getting hurt and losing points is a pretty big stick.” He posited, trying to wrap his head around her train of thought.
“Not a stick. When someone is trying to sell you Choice A, they give you the advantages of picking A, the carrot, and the consequences of picking Choice B, which is the stick. Failing the instance is a possible consequence of picking A.” Juliette said, leading them by the nose. They would need to reach this conclusion on their own, they learn better that way.
“Having to wait for next month is the stick. Losing an opportunity.” Nova replied, confidently.
“Closer, but still no. The other door closing is a built-in consequence of making a choice. Sarah wouldn’t have given us the option if there weren’t serious downsides to picking Choice B. Think.”
Tina’s eyes widened. “The other four,” she breathed. “If they gamble and win, they’ll be too powerful for us to stop. We’ll fall too far behind”.
“Fuck.” Chris swore, and the rest of the room echoed his sentiment. “We’re idiots.”
“Not idiots, single-minded.” Juliette said, looking each of her friends in the eye, one by one. “Shall we vote?”
The Rogues Gallery always voted by show of hands, a time-honored tradition since the first time they had ever been together as a group. Back then, they had been deciding which reaction to attempt in their first Chem lab. Now, they were deciding whether their friend would risk grievous bodily harm for power.
The two Chrises voted yes, as did Benjamin and Juliette. Max and Nova voted no, both for the same reason. They didn’t want to see their friend, their family, in pain. Also, deep down, they both believed that with careful planning and enough preparation, their group could handle anyone. No matter what rewards they received. Alas, they were outvoted.
“Can I bring anything with me, Sarah?” Chris asked the air, as the clock rolled around to 7:59pm.
No possessions you carry will follow you through.
“Ah well, it was worth a shot.” He said, raising from the couch and stepping to the center of the room. He addressed the crowd of worried faces as if giving a Shakespearian monologue. “Well, my loves, will you have some bandages and booze waiting for me when I get out? I feel like after this, I’m going to need a drink.” He said, and with a step to the left, he was gone.
****
Chris came back to himself with the sensation of a soft cushion under his butt. He opened his eyes to the familiar sight of his living room ceiling.
“Wait, did I not go anywhere? Did I lose my memories of the instance?” he muttered, looking around, trying to regain his bearings. He took in the tableau of his friends in their usual places around the room.
Unnaturally still. Unnaturally pale. Gashes adorned their skin, bone-deep lacerations that he had missed on first pass, as they were completely bloodless. The bodies reclined in a caricature of their usual poses.
Chris scrambled off the couch, out of the cold arms of his best friend in the world, and stumbled backwards until his back hit a wall. He pushed on his Speed shift with all his might, frantically trying to regain some sense of control. It did nothing to slow the jackrabbit beat of his heart.
From this perspective, he could see what he couldn’t from the couch. Burned into the carpet, in block letters a foot tall, was a single word. “Survive”.
“Sarah, you are one sick son of a bitch”, he gasped, and the bodies began to move.