In the realm of ones and zeros, where the sun was a function and the wind an algorithm, Alek found himself a stranger in his own creation.
Alek's eyes snapped open to be greeted by a sky of pixelated azure, dotted with floating islands. Catching his breath as if he’d just sprinted from a Tinder date gone wrong, he realized he was sprawled out on what seemed like...a rock? Seriously? He rubbed his eyes, trying to see if it was some sort of bad VR experience. Before him was a pixel party, the kind of aesthetic you'd expect if IKEA and a gaming console had a baby. "Man, this is wild," Alek mumbled, wishing he could just hit Ctrl+Alt+Delete and peace out of there, only there was no keyboard in sight.
He blinked, once, twice. His surroundings unfurled into a technicolor panorama, a digital domain at once familiar and thoroughly alien, almost indecipherable as it gradually crystallized before his eyes. He scrambled to his feet, his world oscillating with a dizzying intensity. He tried blinking to resolve the picture he was confronting him, a world as vibrant as handmade Japanese origami. Alek was in shock. His senses overloaded not only by the resplendent colors, but also the surreal sounds. It was the kind of world he had only ever witnessed through the dispassionate portal of his computer screen. He sank back onto the stone, grappling with the strangeness of his surroundings. He clamped his eyes shut. Perhaps he could simply wish it away.
Rewinding a hot minute, Alek was in a heated relationship with those stubborn lines of code on his dual monitors. Locked in a duel of intellect with recalcitrant lines of code on the icy luminescence of the screens. Each line was a stubborn beast, one of many digital adversaries determined to ruin his masterpiece.
Outside, lightning stitched a jagged arc across the night sky and thunder blasted as if a battle was being fought in the heavens. Mother Nature was having a rave. But Alek was more concerned about saving his precious game than the potential for a lightning-induced PC barbecue. The house lights flickered. He knew he should shut down the computer. A direct lightning strike definitely could fry his hard drive, but he felt a relentless compulsion to press on.
Dude was one coding line away from leveling up his AI, but the pain in his back was getting real. Probably the squeaky old, leather-clad chair, which squeaked incessantly did not help. He had inherited from his dad – straight out of some sad hipster's Instagram. And yeah, his behind was sore from all the sitting. Not to mention the ancient chair had stories, and not the Insta kind. Alek daydreamed of treating himself to a bougie gaming chair from Costco – maybe they’d have a deal?
Along with the chair he had inherited the old house, along with the desk, and a dog. But man, he was drifting. He got so irritated, he almost turned his dog, Herbie, into a meme. Meanwhile, the outside was doing its best EDM concert impression. He could sense his focus slipping yet again, his frustration erupting in a sharp kick at the wall beneath the desk. The toe of his sneaker narrowly missing the pink nose of Herbie, the pink nosed, gray Staffordshire Bull Terrier dozing at his feet. The dog let out a yelp and bolted through the open door of his father’s office. Alek was vaguely aware of the noise in the hallway as the staffy collided with the coat stand.
Outside, the storm continued to rage on, lighting the night sky in electric pink. Oblivious to the world around him, Alek wrestled with his pounding headache. His overwhelming tiredness was causing the symbols and numbers on his screen to jiggle like mischievous sprites before his eyes. He was so fatigued he no longer felt the pain in his fingers, gnarled and twitchy from forever tapping the keys, every touch sending jolts up his hands.
Feeling woozy, he questioned if his chair had suddenly subscribed to the spin class fad. A sleep-deprived delusion? Probably. Just as he was about to reward himself with an imaginary 'adulting' badge, the characters on his screen started twerking or something. Then, bam! Alek was slurped into a digital whirlpool, the kind of trippy journey every coder secretly wishes for when they’re on their fifth energy drink. It happened without warning, the screens vanishing into a gaping black hole that expanded until it swallowed Alek. He was spinning in the silvery swirl of a digital vortex, a virtual tempest that drew him deep into its core.
*****
He had experienced it many times on a computer screen. now he found himself in a world so high-definition, even a nose job couldn't make it look better. He breathed in air so crisp and clean it would make a laundry detergent commercial jealous. The earthy scent of a fresh meadow filled his nostrils, and the distant sound of a babbling brook tinkled like a far-off symphony. He stood in the world he'd meticulously crafted, pixel by pixel, line by line. It was no longer a landscape of ones and zeros; it was as palpable as the headache that still clung stubbornly to the edge of his consciousness.
This was his world he had coded and designed right from the trees to the air, everything was as he'd envisioned. But this wasn't an ordinary login; it wasn't a god's-eye view through a divine screen. He was in his game world in the flesh—or at least in a digital representation of it. He could feel the cool, hard cobblestones beneath his feet, and the distant chatter of Non-Player Characters (NPCs). It felt all-encompassing, more real than any virtual world had any right to be.
Oh, snap! Did I just get isekai-ed into my own game?" He mused, half-expecting some voiceover commentary in the background. But this was too real. Like, Lasik surgery clear. Could be a lucid dream? It was the only explanation. The thought didn't diminish the vibrancy of his surroundings. In his extreme state of sleep deprivation, he decided to let the dream continue. Eventually you wake up, right?
A Heads-Up Display (HUD) appeared in front of him filled with various data. His health bar showed up as a vibrant line of green. His mana bar, a bright blue, was also at its maximum. There was a blinking notification, prompting him to choose a class. He selected a mage. Instantly, his fingers twitched. It was the sensation a musician yearning for their instrument might feel. One he’d grown accustomed if he was too long away from a keyboard, a result of the countless hours he’d spent in his life typing code. Instead of familiar keys, he saw the flowing robes of his chosen class. He was a mage now. It felt fitting, given his ability to manipulate the intricate systems of his game. He was a programming Ace. He could surely master the arcane powers within this world.
His mind was his most formidable weapon. He'd weave spells with the same precision he used to write code, turning each incantation into a testament to his intellectual prowess and creativity. The mage class wasn't merely a role to play; it was a reflection of who he was. He sniggered to himself. Yeah, right, Alek. Still wasn't a bad idea. Coding magic? Same thing! He chose the mage class. Immediately, he missed the keyboard, but those flowing robes? Not gonna lie, he told himself, they look lit.
Alek: Codename - "NerdMage." Or just "Alek the Awkward." Whatever.
His fingertips tingled with an electric sensation, he stretched out his arms, admiring the faint glow emanating from his hands, a sign of his newly acquired magical abilities. "Alright!" He said aloud. "That's what I'm talking about."
Alek started to navigate the cobblestone streets, more like strutting really---because he was feeling mighty cocky, this being his game and all--his attention jumping from the world around him to the HUD and back again. The HUD floating before his eyes was his compass, map, and guidebook—all in one. It was his sixth sense, the intuition that would lead him through the maze of his creation and hopefully out of it again.
The streets were a labyrinth of old-world charm, with buildings of worn bricks and mossy stones devoid of virtual life. Rounding a corner, Alek found himself in a small square with an ornately decorated, yet dry, fountain in dire need of repair. The eerie silence, unnatural for what should have been a bustling marketplace, was broken only by the echo of his footsteps. The hairs on his neck bristled. He paused, listening. He peered upwards, expecting to see storm clouds massing, perhaps a slow-moving floating island. But no, he was staring up at a clear sky blushed to a deep dark blue.
Alek cast a cursory glance around the deserted square. The landscape remained silent and still, or so he thought. Then he made out formless shapes in the gloom, and as he stood there, four pairs of crimson eyes exuding malevolent intent stared back at him. They came out of nowhere, a boy band of rogue NPCs. The kinda group he'd expect to run into in the clearance aisle at the evil character store. There was an orc, a weird-looking goblin, a snooty-looking dark elf, and a bald dude with a club. Was that... his uncle Gary?
Alek could taste their anticipation. A motley crew of rogue Non-Player Characters (NPCs) walking out of the shadows right into his path. These were obviously the minor league villains – still bad, but also a bit... off.
His HUD lit up with a new quest: Vanquish the rogue NPCs terrorizing the town.
"About time," Alek laughed in response. The sound of it, a little too loud in the otherwise empty square.
He accepted his first quest and saw with satisfaction his hands were glow brighter. Of course, there would have to be four assassins. That's the way he had programmed it to work. As the game designer, their number was his sly nod to Japanese culture, which associates the number four with death. A tongue-in-cheek reference for any gamers in the know.
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No one had told the NPCs. They were, of course, totally immune to irony.
The leader of the group was a hulking brute of an orc dressed in a crude leather tunic, and wielding a large grimy and blood-stained double-bladed axe. It stood at least a head taller than Alek. Its muscles were certainly impressive, they bulged beneath the creature's bright green skin, with a massive scarred chest. and a back so huge it looked like a nest of thick bodied serpents covered over with a layer of coarse matted dark fur.
A goblin was a step behind the orc. He was small and wiry, with a cunning look in his beady eyes and an amazingly unhealthy appearance. His skin should have been a bright frog green, but it was instead a sickly yellow, and the goblin’s body was hunched and twisted, the leather armor he wore hanging off his skeletal frame. However, Alek had designed the outward appearance of many of his creatures to be deceptive. This goblin was intended to be an early shock for game players. It was far more dangerous than it looked. The creatures hands were nimble. They darted in and out of his pockets with a thief's grace. A glinting dagger spinning over and across his six fingers in a mesmerizing dance, the blade disappearing then reappearing.
The third assassin, a dark elf, tall and slender, carried herself with an air of elegance. Her skin was a deep, midnight blue, her eyes a piercing silver. She was dressed in a flowing robe of black and purple, her long, silver hair cascading down her back. Her face was a mask of cold, detached beauty, her lips curled in a cruel smirk. In her hand, she held a wooden staff, its surface etched with ancient runes that shone with a sinister purple light.
The last was a wide-shouldered human, a man of indeterminate age with a weathered, lined face. His wild mane of white hair surrounded his head like it might have been a flaming bush. His piercing blue eyes stared fixedly on Alek’s head. His expression was one of grim determination, his gaze unwavering. He was dressed in simple tunic and trousers, worn and faded. An incongruously large club rested on an overly muscled shoulder.
Despite being a ragtag bunch, the malice written on their faces was undeniable. They were eager for the impending fight. A little too eager really.
Alek thought about striking up a friendly conversation, but shrugged off the idea. It was only level one, and he felt powered-up, so he decided to inject some fun into the fray.
"I've seen scarier things in a cereal box," Alek quipped.
The orc grunted, "Is that a fat joke?"
"No, dude. It's more about your skin routine. It's glowingly... green?" Alek smirked. "You smell bad, too."
He grinned at the result of his joke. He could easily mess up their attack by getting them mad.
The orc’s expression twisted into a grotesque mask of rage. It gave a snarl, and then paused, and blinked as if suddenly making sense of Alek’s words. “That’s them, not me”, it replied.
“No, I definitely think that’s you,” Alek had quickly gotten over his surprise at the Ork's quick reply. He didn't remember having programmed it to be so vocal.
The assassins looked at each other. The orc snorted and the goblin muttered to itself. There could be no mistaking they were out for his blood. It shouldn’t take much to enrage them, and they were hopelessly slow and stupid to boot. He had coded them that way.
“What a motley crew you lot are,” Alek said with a grin.
The orc snorted again.
“Okay, who’s going to be first?” Alek asked them politely. This fight was going to be like a bad dance-off.
“All of us,” the slender elf sneered.
Before Alek knew it, the misfit toys were coming at him. The goblin moved like he’d had one too many energy drinks. The dark elf was the drama queen of the bunch, all theatrics, and no action. And the bald dude? His hair game was so weak; but he made up for it with the club.
Alek leapt out of the way as the massive weapon descended with a whoosh on the spot where he had stood a moment earlier, the impact shattering the cobblestones.
Alek, surprised, barely managed to avoid being divided into halves by the ax blade that came whistling through the air. He felt the sting of it across his chest, and glanced down at the neat diagonal cut in his mage’s gown from shoulder to mid-chest.
The goblin lunged, moving like he’d had been downing energy drinks all night with Alek. The point of its blade aimed square at Alek’s gizzard, and he almost skewered the game designer, the little guy lacked in height but he surely made up for that in leg power.
Alek moved, jumping back just in time to avoid the thrust of the sharp steel point. It narrowly missed his throat. But the attack had just begun. He found himself dancing to avoid the rapid stabs of the goblins blade. As a mage, he was far from defenseless. He raised his hands, his fingers twitching in the air, now they were weaving spells instead of typing code. A shimmering orange shield of energy materialized in front of him.
The goblin bounced off the protective barrier and sprawled on the stones at the feet of the orc. Screeching in anger, he scrabbled across the cobblestones for his dropped blade. He found the dagger and leapt to his feet to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the witch, the orc, and the human.
Confronted by a realigned formation of fighters, Alek didn’t hesitate. In one swift motion, he conjured a ball of fire and hurled it at his attackers. It exploded on impact, knocking the NPCs off their feet, but they were back on their feet in an instant, baring their fangs and seething with doubled anger. Alek had programmed the NPCs to be cunning, but also almost ponderously slow in a fight, but instead here they were launching a swift and well-coordinated assault, a relentless flurry accompanied by roars of rage.
The goblin was doing more screeching than roaring, but it was clear he was equally annoyed. The white-haired human was much less of a threat than the goblin. The wide swing of the heavy club almost toppled him, and he fought to regain his balance.
Alek sidestepped the gleaming dagger and ducked as the club whooshed by, weaving and dodging their attacks. It should have been easy enough for him to avoid the strikes. He had designed them to be largely predictable in level one. Added to that, he could see the code written in his head as clearly as if it were written in neon. Alek was fully expecting an easy victory.
If any of the assassins gave him cause for concern it was the elf. She ought to be attempting to wrap him in a fiery purple lasso. That’s what he designed her to do, not to stand to one side holding the staff above her head like a Maori warrior. She was looking instead like she was about to do a set of chin-ups.
Not wishing to gamble on her intent, he acted the only way a gamer should when faced with a novel foe, instinctively and with decisive force. As a mage, he had access to a plethora of spells. He raised his hands, his fingers dancing in the air, weaving a complex incantation. His timing was perfect.
A shimmering shield of energy materialized in front of Alek. Just in time to deflect the incoming shower of charged leeches that exploded from the staff. Fat shiny black quivering bodies fell about Alek’s feet. The critters' obscenely large mouths filled with sharp teeth, clicked harmlessly together before their bodies shriveled away.
Alek had not moved back one inch. With a swift motion of his hands, he conjured a ball of fire and hurled it at the NPCs. He watched it explode in flames with satisfaction.
The force of it knocked the assassins off their feet and sprawling across the cobblestones, howling in agony and in good part in sheer despondence. But the danger was not over. The human holding the club was still on his feet. Even with the weight of the weapon held high over his head in readiness to strike, he moved fast, too fast, smashing into Alek’s shield.
The collision drove Alek back several steps, his shield flickering under the continued assault. He had just enough time to create another fireball and hurl it at the oncoming assassin. When the smoke cleared club-man was no more than a pile of charred, smoking embers.
Alek checked his HUD. The battle had left his mana bar looking like his phone battery at 2%,His health bar had taken a hit as expected, but was already regenerating. The mana bar though was a different story, it was oh so badly depleted. His shield had blinked out of existence and that was fine, it would regenerate, but what did surprise him was the lack of even a faint glow of residual magic in his hands. The intensity of the fight exceeded what he expected of level one. Lesson learned! he would be using his spells strategically from here on in.
A blinking notification informed him of his hard-earned experience points from the encounter. In his inventory, a new item appeared - a shiny new dagger, a keepsake from his inaugural battle. A triumphant chime sounded as +100 XP appeared on Alek's HUD. It was a small amount, but it made a significant difference to his experience bar.
He winced as the chime sounded again. “First order of business when I'm back at my desk is to change that bell," he muttered. The HUD flashed to proclaim; he did not yet have enough experience to level up. Well, that was to be expected.
"Hey, but I survived!" he shouted to no one in particular. "Yes!!" He fist pumped the air. No one cared. It was his game. He owned it.
Despite continuing to expect he would wake from the virtual reality at any moment, he reveled in his success, even as he blushed at the thought of almost losing the fight. It was only level one. He designed the level to encourage players, sure, but also to lull them into complacency before plunging them deeper into the game. The fight shouldn’t have been that difficult. He took a deep breath. Maybe it's best to set the negative thoughts aside for the time being, he told himself. At least until I’m back in the real world.
He flexed his fingers. Alek, the programmer, the mage, the adventurer, had left one of his assailants a harmless heap of smoldering embers and another stumbling on the cobblestones with a now useless magic staff. The rest of it was nothing but a dream threatening to turn into a nightmare. No, he was back in control.
The witch was on her feet, about to beat a hasty retreat after the orc and the goblin into the shadows of the jumble of structures lining the street. She leaned heavily on her staff, favoring her good leg as the other was charred and ruined, and glanced back at Alek.
“This is not over,” she promised, her smile wide to reveal an impressive array of sharp, white teeth.
Alek watched as the shadows swallowed her up. “Where the heck did that come from?” he asked himself aloud.
There it was again!
Questions that undermined his positiveness and encouraged self-doubt. He didn’t need that. After all, he designed the game. He was the game master. End of story. Well, almost.
He did wonder about his AI creation. How many countless sleepless nights, scrapped drafts, and energy drinks had he been through? He had no idea. There were too many to count.
And, he could feel the weird presence of the AI as solidly as if he really was experiencing his surreal surroundings. That wasn’t possible though. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help a sudden shudder as he contemplated the bizarre and unanticipated new reality that surrounded him. On one hand, it was all a tribute to his coding brilliance, he’d readily allow himself that much. On the other hand…this was all too quickly testing his sanity. Rubbing his aching head he checke out the dagger once more. Not bad. Maybe good enough to sell on Ebay.
Alek sighed, "Man, next thing I make is a dating sim."
He laughed at his own joke, as he usually did. It didn't sound like it came from him. The sound of it echoing in the empty street suddenly giving him the chills.