Phillman’s Digital Complex is a psychiatric disorder. It's characterized by persistent delusions of specific numerical values. Such values represent different physical/mental abilities of the patient in question.

These delusions are often accompanied by visual and auditory hallucinations. The patients claim to see some kind of non-interactive user interface. It can be compared to modern augmented reality technology. Curiously, when asked to describe the interface, most patients gave similar descriptions.

At the moment, the complex is considered to be a consequence of heavy video gaming addiction. However, Dr. Phillman encountered his first case in the early eighties.

In some cases, patients never played such games and had no interest in them. Among those were small children and residents of remote areas.

From a post on a certain paranormal imageboard.

Oh, it’s those larpers again! Got any actual proof this time? Because your stories about some schizos D&D in their heads are getting old.

One of the responses to that post.

I guess it’s time for some useless facts from my biography. Sit down and listen. It is necessary for you to understand how exactly such a simple and carefree life went downhill. It will be a story about stereotypes, good intentions, and how little we actually know about our world. And ourselves, I guess. Spoiler alert – a local man is going to ruin everything, and that man is me.

My name is Arthur Kim, and according to some people, I am completely batshit crazy. Sometimes it’s hard to disagree with them.

Everything started on one hot summer day. End of July, I think? It’s getting pretty hard to keep small details in check. Things are trying to slip away from my mind. Besides, back then I was seven. Eight at most.

Be honest, do you remember anything from when you were that age? I mean, anything important, not some especially vivid moments of joy or sadness. Yeah, that’s what I thought. All the inconsistencies in this story can be explained by my shitty memory. Our situation is kind of stressful. Please, understand.

So, it was about twelve years ago. Crisis time. One of those strange periods, when everyone swims in especially muddy waters. Our family didn't starve, but we sure as hell didn't get any richer.

I was a simple kid, with videogames being the only thing on my mind 24/7. I blame my older brother. He was even more obsessed. All we had was an old PS2 bought from the thrift shop. It’s still unknown how that thing managed to survive years of constant use. While our parents were at work, we spent almost every second of our free time glued to the screen. Running from our bleak and boring life into the unknown.

And then we got into RPG’s and dungeon crawlers. Liam basically moved across the street, where his classmate lived. That guy had a decent PC. Dad had to come over and drag my bro back home, while other guy’s parents joked about adopting him. They were pretty chill about everything.

Sometimes, Liam took me with him. And when we couldn't go, we drew maps of dungeons in notebooks and invented monsters. We imagined ourselves to be heroes who always have a bonus to strength and health. Because casters suck, playing them is difficult and boring! We weren’t the brightest bulbs in the shed.

We still aren’t.

But in the end, if you wish really hard… Ahem, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

On that lovely Sunday morning, Dad decided to skip an extra shift at the factory. Said there was nothing to do there since the canteen was closed anyway.  You know, certain people love them some peace and quiet at home? Our father is not one of those people. He feels an irresistible urge to share the joy of the weekend with everyone around him. Regardless of their will to cooperate.

He barged into our room at the crack of dawn, loud and cheerful.

“Come on! Get up, you lazy asses!”, he shouted, grabbing Liam’s leg. “Sun is shining, birds are singing. A beautiful day at the shore awaits us, and there is no time to waste. Come on, come on. Noodles are already boiling!”

Resistance was futile. As he loves to say, “It’s a free country, Arthur. And you are free to do as your dad says. Unless you want to get a smack, that is.”

In the end, we had to walk all the way to the promenade. It’s a dull place now, but it was even more boring back then. Just a wide street right by the sea. The only point of interest was the aquarium and ocean museum, but that wasn’t an option. I’ve been there too many times and knew every fish and exhibit by heart.

Also, the entrance fee was twenty bucks and dad knew where exactly he wants to spend that money.

That was the first time we went to The Barge. The old, dilapidated ship was forever anchored at the embankment. It served as a seafood restaurant during the day. And as a nest of debauchery during the night, which I learned much later.

Dad left us at the stone slabs near water. “Stay here, I’ll be right back. Watch your brother”, he said to Liam. “Then we’ll go to the pier, see the dolphins or something”

Liam was only twelve, but life had already made him pretty jaded. In the future, this will help him survive and not go crazy while working as an administrator in a night sauna. That job can melt people's brains, sometimes literally.

Back then, he was simply tired of dad’s bullshit.

He nudged me with his elbow. “Why do you think we are here so early?”

I lifted my head and saw a sloppily drawn banner above the entrance. SUNDAY MORNING BEER. YESTERDAY PRICES. To be honest, I wasn’t even mad because the ice cream was also on sale.

Cheap alcohol and snacks attracted quite a lot of people. Dad went in and disappeared for an hour. Meanwhile, Liam lost all interest in me and decided to check old vending machines near the shop. I walked to the edge of the slab.

The water was green, dirty, covered with multi-colored stains of spilled fuel. There was a bunch of tangled kelp and some small orange jellyfish, which caught my attention. I’m that easily excited. Besides love for the sea and seafood is in my blood.

Curiosity killed the cat, they say. Then something revived her, but more other than not the second part of the saying does not apply to people. Very quickly, I realized that these slaps are not sloping. They were wet, slippery, and, in fact, really steep.

My foot slipped and I fell into the water, which was no deeper than ten feet, but that’s a lot for a skinny kid who can’t swim

Taking a deep breath before falling was the only smart thing I could do. For a few seconds, I became a real diver and saw, so to speak, the underwater kingdom. Bits of rusty debris, broken pipes. A newspaper floated right by my face with a full-spread image of the president. It was surreal. Also, I might have imagined the last part, but who knows?

What I definitely didn’t imagine was some kind of red creature with flowing black hair and a lot of sharp teeth. For years, I’ve thought it was a trick of vision. But that thing is actually real and is to blame for every weird thing that happened to me afterward. That bastard!

“Small and timid. Not what I expected, but you’ll do.”

I heard the screeching voice coming from somewhere within me. Then big hands grabbed me and pulled back into the light of the day.

“Hey, little fella”, he snapped his fingers before my eyes. “You okay?”

There wasn’t enough time to swallow any water, so I was fine, only shocked and agitated.

“Arthur!”

Liam came back running.

Sea salt stung my eyes. When I finally regained vision, saw an unfamiliar swarthy bearded guy right beside me. A weird angular plaque hung over his head. I knew how to read since being five, so there were no problems to make out the inscription.

Old Dude with a Beard - Level 0 (Mortal…?)

Liam had the same sign above him, except his name was written there. And everyone else who stood nearby and gazed in our direction had them too. Names were silly like “Red-Nosed Gramps” or “Cute Blond Girl”. Everyone was level zero. Everyone was mortal, which is kind of a given. Only then I realized that my mind is full of numbers. They weren’t actually visible; I just knew they are there. Stat windows, like some role-playing game.

Every stat was one and none of them did anything. But of course! I was still very young, after all. It was my chance to become a hero, and that made me happy beyond belief. Couldn't wait to tell everyone.

Stupid kid! Should have kept that to myself.

Dad thought it was a joke. If it was, it stopped being funny pretty fast. For some reason, my mother got furious. She hit me very hard, and nothing again in my life was quite as painful as that beating. Mom was angry as hell for weeks, and our relationship didn’t recover for a while. She had her reasons. Y ou’ll see why she had to be like that. But I knew nothing then, and it hurt.

This is how I got the so-called Digital Complex.

By the way, dad invited the guy who saved me to dinner. Uncle Alex became a very good friend of our family. He was especially friendly with mom if you catch my drift. They got together and stayed in Eastward, while dad took me and Liam on a trip across the country.

While getting older, I thought mom used my mental illness as an excuse to dump dad and keep the moral high ground. She did, in away. Mom is a real sly fox, what can I say?

She got to live her happy life, while I faced an endless horde of psychologists and psychiatrists. I lied to them, pretended to be completely normal, but even dad saw through that facade. Doctors said I was mostly healthy. It was easier for them to blame everything on neurosis rather than to find out what the hell is going on in my head. I wasn’t psychotic or anything like that, but somehow still got that crazy flair put on me.

Everyone tried to stay away.

I went to a new school almost yearly. The teachers were usually quick to learn about my dark secrets. Then I usually had to punch some faces, to make those bullies and smartasses leave me alone. Good thing, I was strong and knew how to throw a punch. That did not contribute anything good to my public image though.

Father gave up on me, eventually. Although Liam was even worse in some regard, it was all my fault. I’ve hurt them both.

Somehow, I graduated from a local college with a useless degree in sociology. The army didn’t want me either. The military psychiatrist insisted I should get extensive medical help. I had no desire to take hard drugs and potentially turn into a vegetable. Numbers' disappearance was not worth it. I made my way back to Eastward, doing all sorts of things across the country. Small repairs, construction, security. Spent some time on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Just, you know, tried to find my place in the world.

During that time, I was looking into clues to my condition. My search led me to some weird corners of the internet. Read a lot about Digital Complex. Met some other unfortunate victims. Most of them were either trolls or regular crazy people. Some of them almost destroyed my faith in humanity. Consulted with doctors and scientists. For a while, I even ran a blog until it became too much hassle. Some subscribers thought I can give them superpowers. Kind of ironic in hindsight.

It felt like there was some mystery about it. Like, some people knew what exactly is going on, but they had no obligation to tell me. I felt like Doctor Phillman himself could help, but it was impossible to find the man. All I knew, he retired and lived somewhere around my hometown.

I just wanted to settle down somewhere and live in peace.  A man cannot run away from himself forever. It's exhausting. To hell with numbers. They did nothing, they grew only once on sixteen birthday and while it took some time, I’ve learned how to ignore them.

Eleven years after that day, I was standing on the same slab. Ready to let go of all my worries, and finally, start living for myself. What a fool, right? It seems, the Universe noticed my efforts and decided to reward me with all the answers. All I had to do is to return home.