Alek followed the HUD’s directions like he was a rat in a lab maze. He was hoping it would eventually lead him to a portal back to the chair and his desk. The adrenaline rush from his tussle with the assassins was a distant memory. What was with the looming dread, though? Kind of like waking up to realize you accidentally texted your ex last night.
The holographic image that was his HUD flashed, and he stared at the whirlwind of data. An overhead map was displayed in the top right corner, an eager, throbbing beacon marking his current location. The journey ahead was traced like a breadcrumb trail drawn by a drunk pigeon, but he was more interested in his stats. His heart sank when he saw that his health bar was throwing a tantrum at 30%, the dwindling streak of red an unwelcome reminder of his mortality.
Level: 1,
HP: 30/100
MP: 0/50
EXP: 100/1000
Strength: 15
Dexterity: 20
Intelligence: 25
Luck: 8
Level 1 sure felt more like -10. Given his stats, he'd have been more fit for a spelling bee than an epic quest. Not exactly the digital hero he'd hoped to be. His HP at least rated better than his social life, he reflected glumly. Yes, the numbers weren't just a little disheartening—they were a graphical representation of the crap sandwich he had bitten into. Under-leveled, low health, zero mana—he might as well have worn a sign saying, "I’m fresh meat."
He was suddenly very aware he stood smack dab in the middle of a dusty dirt road. He could see that it snaked all the way out of the village. The air was thick with the kind of silence that made his ears ring. Back in the town center, the bustling lifeblood of his game—the NPCs—seemed to be MIA.
The whole experience was leaving him feeling out of place. A vegan at a steakhouse sprang to mind. The notion of being ensnared in his own digital web was heavy enough, but the dreadful anticipation of eventually confronting a fierce and incomplete AI offspring had begun to haunt him. Every footstep took him closer to a possible nightmare awaiting him around the next corner.
The path led him into a forest and he found himself standing in a glade that looked like it had been lifted from a Disney movie. But instead of singing about his problems, he was lost in the natural symphony of bird songs, rustling leaves, and the gentle gurgling of a creek. It was like stepping into a living tapestry of nature, each thread woven with vibrant colors.
But none of that held Alek's attention. What did was a giant griffin lying on its side in the center of the opening, looking less than majestic and more... deflated. His brain screamed, "Retreat!" but his HUD had different plans, listing the griffin's threat at a level that to Alek equalled somewhere between "spicy taco aftermath" and "accidental DM to your crush."
Alek’s first instinct was definitely to slowly back away, leaving the creature to its own devices. It was certainly aware of him, but it seemed more preoccupied with licking its wounds than snacking on game developers. His HUD agreed, classifying the griffin as a 'dodge-if-possible' level of danger while highlighting a 'no-way-in-hell-you-can-dodge-this' level threat lurking further ahead. As he drew closer, the big bird-lion thing let out a long, loud, and mournful sigh, which, given the timing, was surely for Alek’s benefit.
He stayed where he was and considered the situation, keeping an eye on the beast as he pondered what to do. This game doesn’t throw curveballs by accident. What if this wasn't a random encounter but an opportunity? A fighting-fit griffin would be a walking tank, but this pathetic, limping specimen was definitely more in line with Alek's shoestring budget. It reminded Alek of a piece of code he'd written, one that he’d considered a stroke of genius at the time, although now he wasn't so sure.
Seeing a chance for a strategic alliance (or just hoping the creature had some snacks), Alek approached, recalling a code trick up his sleeve: Bonding. Basically, make a pet out of something scary. It’s like befriending the bouncer at a nightclub.
Bonding. That was the magic word. One he had coded into the game. A mechanism to form a connection with a creature, pooling resources and enhancing abilities. The bond's strength could determine how much of the creature's abilities Alek could siphon off. It was pretty neat. A little overpowered, but neat.
Alek's next step was clear. He had to play the good Samaritan and help the poor, dying, magical beast. Then, BAM! Bond formed; powers boosted.
As Alek moved closer, he saw the griffin was watching him with an apparent air of weary resignation. A metal shackle with a heavy, broken chain still attached enclosed one of its forelegs. Its great beak hung open, the edges splintered and worn from its attempts to free itself of the steel band. It lay disturbingly still, save for the rise and fall of its flank with each labored breath it took.
Alek was experiencing peculiar state of non-panic as he approached the griffin. Although he stepped were cautiously, he was not hesitant. He kept reminding himself that he had written the code for bonding - to not panic and trust the system. He crouched beside the beast, eyeballing its wounds with a mix of intrigue and mild revulsion. The griffin’s foreleg was a horror show of scars and fresh blood, a sign of long-term imprisonment and recent escape. The griffin’s wounds were healing even as he watched, albeit with the speed of a dial-up internet connection.
"You seem to be in need of aid," Alek said as softly as the could, aiming for 'calming' but probably landing on 'awkward'. "Lucky I came by and spotted you, huh?"
"You should turn tail and flee, human," the griffin huffed, a single crystal-clear blue eye sizing up the possibility of a snack within snatching distance.
"Why?" Alek blurted out, mentally giving himself a pat on the back for getting the griffin to focus on anything other than food.
The griffin sighed, a sound like a bellows deflating. "I can’t spare the energy to squash you right now." It said. "I’ve been dragging this iron bracelet around for days. Now I can’t even get off the ground." The griffin sighed deeply again. "And no, I don't fancy snacking on you."
Alek was startled at the griffin's response. Mind-reading monsters were definitely not on his code roster. He moved onto more tangible problems - the shackle. The iron clamp was incredibly durable, locked with a padlock that would make a locksmith sweat.
"I'm not sure I can get this off," Alek admitted, after his first inspection of the shackle didn’t reveal any obvious weak spots.
"Yes, you can," grunted the griffin. "You better... or I might reconsider the 'not hungry' part."
"I do want to help," Alek said, sincerity filling his voice. But he had nothing to give. His magic was as elusive as Wi-Fi on a camping trip, and his mana was at an all-time low. The hubris of his plan hit him like a slap. He wondered what would happen if his digital self was to kick the bucket. Would the real-world Alek drop dead? Would a new digital Alek respawn with his consciousness? Either way, he wasn't keen on finding out.
"You have the key,” the Griffin groaned, rolling its eyes as Alek stared back at in bewilderment. “It’s in the pouch hanging from the cord around your neck."
Alek's hand shot to his neck. He pulled out the pouch hidden under his gown and extracted the knife - slowly, carefully, as if he was juggling live grenades. "This is, um, all I've got,” he said to the griffin, praying his voice didn't betray his growing unease.
"Sure, it looks like a dagger, but only if you have no imagination!" the griffin snorted in mockery. "Go on, try it in the lock."
Alek did as he was told and was surprised at how neatly it fitted in the hole. He was even more surprised to hear a loud click and see the clamp spring open.
"Wow, it actually worked!" Alek exclaimed in astonishment.
With its shackles removed, the griffin rocketed upright, sending Alek reeling backwards. It was a sight to behold - a majestic fusion of beast and bird. A head and wings of a colossal eagle, its golden feathers shimmering like treasure under the sun. The body was all lion, muscular and sheathed in lustrous fur, bulging with raw power. Its talons could probably carve through a tank, and its lion-like hind legs hinted at incredible leaping ability. And it was huge. Once on its feet, the griffin’s extended wing would blot out not only the sun but a large chunk of the sky. Beside this creature, Alek felt like an ant next to a freight train.
Ignoring the awe-struck human, the griffin tended to the wound on its freshly freed leg with a long pink tongue. "Took you long enough," it grumbled. "Flying with this chain on your leg would be like you running with a foundation stone strapped to your back. I should eat you for making me wait so long."
Alek stiffened when he saw the griffin frown, although he couldn’t be certain it had. Then, to his relief the beast laughed. It was the sound of dry wood blocks tumbling onto a concrete floor.
"Relax," the griffin told him. "Even griffins have a sense of humor." It leaned in close enough, its breath ruffled his hair. “You can call me Orion.”
They fist-bumped, or rather, fist-to-talon bumped. Alek beamed. "Sweet. Got a magical creature buddy. So, Orion, any idea how I escape this digital dumpster fire?”
The Griffin didn’t reply. It appeared to be more interested in checking out its injured leg.
“Orion’s a solid name,” Alek persisted.
"You think so?" Orion gazed up at him and bobbed its head. "I do, too. Never met any other called the same."
"It’s original," Alek agreed. He could almost feel the tether forming between them. Their destinies becoming intertwined, just as his coding was designed to allow.
"For reasons, I can’t explain at this point in time, I find myself interested,” Orion said, blinking like an owl. “So, what brings you here?”
"I am looking for the closest portal that gets me out of this game," Alek answered.
"How do you plan on finding that?" Orion inquired, raising an eyebrow.
Alek’s HUD appeared, as if on cue. "Got my HUD to navigate by."
"Does it say there's a portal nearby?" Orion asked, its eyes glinting with curiosity.
"Not exactly," Alek replied, checking the stats on his HUD and feeling a surge of relief. Full power. His plan had worked after all. "I've been following the breadcrumb trail it's been dropping," he confessed to Orion, his HUD disappearing as his focus shifted. "Given this whole shebang is smoke and mirrors, I'm banking on the fact that it'll lead me to an exit."
Orion snorted, a sound that Alek could only interpret as disdainful amusement. "Ah, you humans. Always playing protagonist in your own epic," the griffin retorted.
Despite the jibe, Alek thought he noticed a twinkle in Orion's eyes. The satisfaction of having formed a potent alliance was finally settling in, and Alek was beginning to feel quite pleased with himself. "Well, maybe in this case, I am."
The griffin rolled its eyes and gave a derisive snort. Then, with a flurry of fur and feathers, it leapt into the air and ascended.
"I wish you good fortune, Alek!" Orion's voice echoed from above. The griffin's gigantic wings created a downdraft that stirred up the forest floor.
Alek squinted, shielding his eyes from the airborne debris. "I will see you again soon, right?"
"You will," Orion affirmed. The griffin wheeled and soared upward eventually disappearing over the treetops.
He barely had time to process the sudden departure of his newfound ally, when his HUD appeared. The map showed him the road ahead crossed a wide stream. An urgent warning flashed. He was not to enter the water. He could choose to use the bridge or turn back the way he had come. A second warning followed. To cross the bridge he must first deal with a powerful boss guardian. And here was I thinking the stream was going to be a cakewalk.
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Soon, Alek found himself standing at the forest's edge, staring at a breathtaking river spanned by a medieval stone bridge. The structure was undeniable proof of the game creators' craftsmanship. It was made of weathered masonry with a majestic high arch in the center. The bridge was bookended by high stone towers with crenelated parapets like mini fortresses. From where he stood, Alek made out the grooves carved into the stones of the deck by years of continuous use by horse drawn carriages, and yet there were no travelers to be seen. The road onto and off the bridge was totally empty of NPCs.
His gaze landed on a large, foreboding shadow cast on the bridge's entryway. As he neared, the silhouette solidified into a massive black wolf, its mouth agape in what Alek interpreted as a sinister grin. This wolf-something had an overenthusiastic drool function. The beast's tongue lolling lazily from its mouth, drool occasionally snapping back into its maw only to dribble out again, splattering the stone beneath its hulking paws.
Alek had decided after Orion flew off that he was not was going to do his best not to take this digital world seriously. It was his game, after all, and he could play it any way he wanted. May as well have some fun.
"Sup, Miley Cyrus in canine form?" Alek deadpanned, referring to the wolf’s sticking out tongue.
If the truth were to be told, the rhythmic panting of the creature and the putrid stench of its breath hit his nostrils were all a little too real. The monstrosity was the embodiment of a nightmare wolf, cloaked in a dense, black fur that glowed with a spectral iridescence. Its head was disproportionately massive, harboring rows of wickedly sharp teeth that flashed a deadly gleam. What captured Alek's attention, however, was the surreal addition to its rear end. Where a bushy wolf's tail was expected, a monstrous blind snake writhed and hissed, its scales a glistening black, each aggressive lash of its head spraying venom in a deadly arc.
"Quite the weather we're having, huh?" Alek quipped, trying to inject some humor into the foreboding encounter. The wolf-chimera snarled in response, the chilling sound jolting Alek. "So, a 'no' then?"
"You jest before offering a proper introduction?" the creature asked, with a growl that sounded like distant thunder "You’d be wise to show respect to Fenrir, sentinel of this bridge to Someplace."
Alek wasn't prepared for a tussle with a boss guardian. Neither was he ready to play a game of chicken with monster. The best he could hope for was to lure it off the bridge where there was more fighting ground and a little more cover. Perhaps create a distraction that could give him the chance to run across the bridge to the other bank, but he had no idea how he would do that.
"Someplace?" Alek echoed, genuinely perplexed. He couldn't help but think this was yet another sign of unfinished coding. He pressed on. "What exactly is 'Someplace'?"
Fenrir pawed the bridge, the grating noise of its claws against the aged stone amplified by the gap between the deck of the bridge and the water below. "You dare to challenge me, and for a goal you know nothing about?"
"But, doesn’t Someplace have a real name?"
"Someplace IS its real name!" the creature roared. It lowered its head, bringing the cold pale eyes level with Alek.
"Well, what is this 'Someplace' then? A fortress? A town? A mountain?" Alek queried.
"How should I know?" Fenrir snorted dismissively. "I am but the guardian of the bridge to—"
"To 'Someplace'. Right. Got it," Alek nodded.
Fenrir snarled at the interruption and dropped his snout until it almost touched the flagstones. His nostrils flared as he took in the scent of the human, abruptly snorting in disgust when he caught a whiff of Alek.
It was a bizarre moment for Alek. In programing this beast into existence he had manifested his own fears, trials, and tribulations. Now he was confronted by the harsh realities he'd written into his game, a stark reminder of his digital existence. He was no longer the omnipotent game designer, now he was bound by the same rules he'd set for gamers.
In the warped reality of Alek's digital nightmares, he grappled with the palpable form of his most profound fears, given life as the terrifying wolf-chimera. Was it the lupine element that shook him? It wasn't a simple fear of teeth and pelt, but rather the embodiment of a more insidious dread - the fear of ceaseless pursuit, a persistent, in his reality, pixelated menace. He couldn't yet pinpoint the core of his fear, but he knew he would eventually.
The initial skirmish was a frenzied ballet of raw power and tactical maneuvering. Alek dodged and weaved around the wolf-chimera's onslaughts, but every counterstrike he made, launching an array of differently hued fireballs, only affirmed the creature's terrifying resilience. The beast effortlessly ducked its head, swept its serpentine tail out of the way, and used its muscular back to repel the fiery onslaught.
Alek refocused his efforts on bypassing the creature to sprint across the bridge to the opposite shore. As a programmer at heart, even amid the vicious confrontation with the chimera, he found a semblance of comfort in his own coding. He saw patterns in the beast's movements, a chain of behaviors and reactions he’d breathed into existence It wasn’t enough. The beast was relentless. Alek used his shield to fend off the lashing snake tail with its venomous fangs at one end of the beast, and the chomping jaws and slashing claws at the other, took all the skill he could muster.
It wasn’t a fight; it was a roast battle. He needed to bring his A-game. Considering another strategy, Alek realized that in his panic, he was like a Tinder user swiping in every direction, hoping something would stick. Maybe it wasn’t about beating the monster. Maybe it was about understanding the game – or at least sliding into its DMs.But progress was elusive, and worse, his mana was alarmingly low. Soon he would be his shield would disappear.
In a relentless attempt to breach Alek’s defenses, the beast repeatedly hurled him against the stone bridge. However, his own code betrayed the creature's moves. Alek held on, surviving on his dwindling energy reserves to dodge and parry while maintaining his shield.
The fight came to an end when he was flung against the side of the bridge. The snake-headed tail wriggled around the edge of the shield, attempting to sink triplicate fangs into his digital flesh. Alek gathered his remaining power and jammed the edge of the shield into the serpent scales in an effort to sever its nasty head, but his power was too low. The wolf pulled back its serpent tail, screaming in pain.
When his shield flickered out, Alek hurled himself across the parapet, and made a run to the safety of the tree line. It was a fraction too late. A gargantuan paw, with claws like curved daggers, raked deep gouges across his back. The monster, intending to snap Alek into two, lunged. But Alek's momentum carried him off the bridge before the monster could close in.
Summoning a final surge of strength, Alek leaped off the bridge into the dense undergrowth below. Alek was able to drag himself to the edge of the forest where took shelter beneath a tall tree.
Fenrir was pacing at the entrance ramp to the bridge, never taking his eyes off Alek who was writhing from the pain of his injuries under the tree. Eventually he lost interest in the pathetic human, who obviously was in no condition to make an attempt to cross the bridge again.
Alek’s healing powers were nearly exhausted but not quite. After what seemed like an interminable length of time, he began to feel a little better and sat upright with his back against the trunk. He had no idea how long the healing process would take, but it was clear enough he didn’t have the mana to win a fight against a boss. When the bleakness of his situation became obvious to Alek, he succumbed to the blues. To be trapped in a game was bad enough—not to mention off-the-charts weird—but being unable to fight, and so, unable to progress into the bargain, well, now he felt hopeless. The wave of despondency might have drowned another older than he, but Alek’s youth saved him. There were two things he had plenty of still, and they were time and ideas.
When the light bulb came on in Alek’s head, it seemed more akin to a lightning bolt. Suddenly, he knew the wolf-chimera and the fight in particular felt so familiar. Fenrir was a metaphor! It represented the coming, no, the IMMINENT implosion of his software enterprise. More to the point, the monster surely represented the collective creditors that funded his fragile company. His fight with Fenrir represented the chaos that threatened if his creditors were to back out. Even more of a metaphor was the chimera’s venomous serpentine tail, its fangs in particular, because they symbolized the threat of a mortal wound on the core of his work, his unfinished AI, if his software company were to collapse.
Alek’s last hope of pulling his company from the jaws of oblivion rested on completing his AI so the fate of either of them rested in the rescue of both. Yes, every swing of the serpent tail, and spit of venom it hurled at him was a reminder of the immediate and inevitable demise of his treasured AI should his software company crumble.
Alek’s thoughts were interrupted by a loud swooshing sound behind him. He spun around to see the immense figure of the griffin land elegantly beside him. Its golden plumage radiated a mystical glow in the forest's dappled light as it tucked its wings and talons underneath and settled down. Without indulging in any pleasantries, it instantly closed its eyes, and resting its beak on its chest, appeared to fall asleep.
“You have met the bridge's guardian,” it remarked nonchalantly, without bothering to raise an eyelid.
“Aren’t you interested in knowing how my fight went?” Alek asked, sitting up, suddenly aware that he felt significantly better.
“Judging by your appearance, not well,” the griffin replied, opening one eye. “But you've certainly roused Fenrir.”
As if to underline the griffin’s statement, the wolf-chimera raised its colossal, furry snout towards the sky and let out a sorrowful howl.
"Hey, bird-lion thing," Alek groaned. “A little help, if you don’t mind? Or are you only here to eat the left overs?” Alek retorted. He leaned back against the towering tree trunk to get a better view of the monster on the bridge.
“You're fortunate that Fenrir's in a whimsical mood,” the griffin mused, bobbing its head. “He’s fearsome when angered.”
Alek broke into a wide grin. “Hey! You ARE going to help me!” he exclaimed. “You are, right?”
Orion yawned and reclined on its lion hindquarters. “Alright. Share your strategy. You do have one, don’t you?”
“Ah, well… I’m going to make another dash across the bridge, but I need to conserve mana for my shield and give myself more time to evade the wolf. I have to neutralize the snake tail though. Meanwhile, you could distract Fenrir,” Alek said. He glanced up at the Griffin.
“If that’s your plan you need to get on with it, before Fenrir regains his composure,” Orion advised him.
“And, forget the snake tail. I'll handle that. Your job is to debilitate the front end from the bank,” Orion directed him, and without waiting for Alek’s response, took a powerful leap into the air'.
* * *
Alek commenced conjuring his first fireball several yards ahead of the bridge. The monster braced itself, concealing its venomous tail and arching its back in anticipation. As Alek neared, the fireball swelled above his hands, bright tendrils of energy flickering off it, reminiscent of writhing serpents. His intention this time wasn’t a direct assault, but a deflected blow the creature wouldn’t foresee. To achieve that, he needed to get as near to the beast as possible without being within its striking radius.
He could smell the fetid stench coming off the beast, so potent it might as well have been a weapon, the kind no player would be aware of from their side of the screen. Alek was one pace away from stepping into his adversaries striking zone. Fenrir drew back its lips to show rows of glistening white teeth and snarled.
It wasn’t time yet. Alek waited until he saw the beast draw itself up to its full height to take a swipe that would finally dispatch the human. That’s when Alek rolled the flaming orb like it was a bowling ball and watched bounce over the flag stones to explode under the beast’s shaggy haunches.
The Fenrir howled in pain, spinning in a tight circle, and totally unaware of the griffin’s sharp descent behind it. Not until the Orion’s talons sank deep into his back, and its beak snap shut on the head of the serpent that sprouted from Fenrir’s ass did the wolf-chimera let out a shriek. The snake head hit the stone work of the road where it spun in circles, the fanged mouth harmlessly still opening and closing on nothing.
Alek prepared another fireball, and without hesitation hurled it straight into the gaping jaws of Fenrir. The impact didn’t obliterate the beast—he was too resilient for Alek’s current magic level—but it did stun him. The creature fell clumsily against the stone wall of the tower and slumped onto the road.
“Run, Alek!” Orion bellowed.
Alek shot off like an arrow, vaulting over the still thrashing snake head, beyond the twitching paws of the wolf-chimera, each paw matching Alek in size. Before he knew it, he was across the bridge and sprinting towards the tree line, where Orion awaited.
"Hope you are ready for the next sequence of this virtual unreality, Orion?" Alek said, feeling full of vim and resolve—albeit mixed with a sense of unease he couldn’t seem to shake.
The griffin fluttered its wings, which Alek took as a silent endorsement of their alliance. So far as Alek was concerned, he was about to leap into the next phase of a grand odyssey, and this time he had the griffin at his side. He scanned the road that meandered along the forest edge, mirroring the river’s serpentine course. The path seemed clear as far as he could see.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted a glint of light.
When he turned, he saw the griffin stood as still as if it were stone, its gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The griffin was silent, maintaining the distant gaze into nothingness. Orion could have been peering into the game's deep abyss for all Alek knew.
A gentle luminescence began to cascade over its digital form. It started as a scatter of white, blue, pink, and black pixels, tumbling like glittering confetti across the length of the griffin, from its beak to its tail's tuft. Then it intensified until it seemed the griffin disintegrated, only to reform a moment later.
The phenomenon was so brief that had Alek blinked he might have missed it. It dawned on him then that he might have damaged the griffin.
The griffin came back online with a start, but quickly regained its composure and turned to Alek with an alarming air of nonchalance. “We're finished here, right?”
“What?” Alek said, feeling like the ground had been snatched from under his feet. “We’re going to stick together from now on, right?”
“I think you’re good to go,” Orion declared.
“Are you sure you're alright?” Alek asked, wanting to probe further, because this sure as hell wasn’t how a bond mechanic worked.
"Well—that happens to be part of what I need to know," Orion cryptically affirmed with a nod of his beaked head.
Alek didn't know how to reply. He could feel his gut coiling. It was an unmistakably distinct sense of unease. His newly formed ally was acting out of character, and Alek didn’t like it one little bit
“I have this particular task I need to attend to,” Orion informed him.
Before Alek could delve into the details—like what else Orion needed to know, or when the griffin would return—it had already gone.
Alek watched his newly found and now departing ally ascend until he saw nothing more than another pixel merging with countless other tiny digital fragments in the radiant sky.
With Orion's departure, Alek found himself alone in the digital cosmos he'd engineered. The game had transcended its coded confines. A shiver of recognition trickled down his spine. Clearly, Orion was more than a mere game character. The griffin had a mind of its own, and could easily overpower a boss. There was the question too of whether or not Orion was able to read Alek’s mind. Now how could it possibly do that unless it controlled the game. After all, Alek’s consciousness occupied a digital aspect of the game. "It was possible that the main AI could do as much." At least, that seemed as plausible as Alek finding himself trapped in his own game.
Wait! Could Orion be a manifestation of Alek’s AI innovation? Wow! A sign of his coding genius? Well, yeah. If only. But, since he had not the slightest idea how to find a portal out of his own game, it probably wasn’t.
There was the glitching he witnessed, the signs of NPCs rising above the limits of their coding, and the nagging idea he was seeing possible signs of sentience. If the AI had a mind of its own, then Alek was into some deep doggy doo. He was getting the feeling he’d been dropped into some strange, self-made purgatory.
There was no doubt about it. He was entrapped within his own brainchild, and the thought of being marooned within the vast digital tapestry he'd woven was too unnerving to dwell on. So, instead, he galvanized his resolve to confront the impending obstacles, ready to relish the adventures that surely awaited him en route to a portal. He was certain such a gateway existed, a concealed path just waiting for him to discover it.
He knew he was going to have to tune into the whispers of unresolved code if he was ever going to discover the game’s elusive riddles, and unravel the mysterious secret he suspected lay deep within. The key to unlocking the complexity surrounding his AI was for Alek to find even as he sought a way out of the code that trapped him. Every hint and revelation was a piece in the grand puzzle. Meanwhile, his incomplete and yet increasingly complex AI was beckoning, urging Alek to follow it deep into the sprawling digital landscape of his creation.