The day of my good fortune—the day I’d received the written notice of the upcoming orientation—had been one of the best I’d had in a good while. I’d ended up curling up in bed for the better part of the rest of it, simply relishing in the thought of what was to come. The VRC at the side of the room had been a consistent reminder of what I’d lost, of the memories that would no longer be made; now it was like a beacon of what I’d gained, all of the effort potentially culminating into something worthwhile.
The jobs of the past had been loaded with drudgery and more people than I was ever truly comfortable with, but this one offered me an outlet for one of the few skillsets I had confidence in. It wasn’t that I looked down on those jobs, that I couldn’t stand the thought of them, I just recognized that I would never be suited for them. This one, however… I could be.
It had been a mistake to believe everyone shared that opinion.
The cheer and celebration I’d expected from my parents was replaced instead with scorn and anger. Rather than view this as my own efforts bearing fruit—as my own attempts at pushing my way out of my maladaptive lifestyle—it was seen as rebellion and relapse. The smiles I had taken for granted being there did not show, and I was instead treated with ridicule for supposedly trying to pull the wool over their eyes.
Preposterous.
Invectives rained down like arrows from both sides, my parents doubling down on what they believed was right while I similarly grasped onto what I saw as a rare chance at a unique opportunity. This was normally where I would acquiesce, where I would bow my head to their demands while shirking off to my room to stave off the aftereffects, but the feeling of my good cheer being stripped away from me left me emotionally raw and unwilling to compromise.
My efforts didn’t do much to change the hierarchy, though; I was nothing more than a freeloading parasite, after all, and they were the ones taking care of me out of their own good will. No matter how I played my part, on this stage I was nothing more than a supporting character and the ending had been written without my input. It ended just as it was normally wont to do, an ultimatum reestablishing how little say I had here.
Their house, their rules. I could either deal with it, or I could leave.
So I left.
The city morning was chillier this time than the last, and while yesterday had been pleasantly overcast, this time the clouds were heavy with the threat of rain. Pedestrians rushed by on their way to their normal working hours, a veritable collection of suits and school uniforms as they crowded together and slipped past like fish from the same shoal. Though some of them were laughing and smiling in good cheer, the vast majority seemed little more than walking corpses carrying on the habits from when they were still living, spectres of the past who had given up a long time ago. Their faces were blank, their eyes dead, and even in their silence I could hear their lamentations.
Would I be forced to end up like that? Trying to fit a square peg in a round hole just to make ends meet? Would I merely “exist”?
. . . Rather, wasn’t that the same kind of expression I’d been making for years now?
I milled about aimlessly while others carried on with their obligations. While some drifted from the crowds to their cubicles and desks, I meandered towards the city’s park, wishing to fill my gaze with something other than the sight of so many others. The wind caught my jacket and a chill settled into my bones, the telltale sensation of droplets falling upon my head shortly after while my own impassive gaze shifted upward in silence.
Even now I knew I wouldn’t be able to help but to return to that house. I had understood long ago that I needed it, that I needed my parents and all of the necessities they allowed for me. Even as I stomped outside in my brief bout of passion, their words had refused to relinquish their grip on my thoughts. Not even the cozy silence of the park and the verdant green of the flourishing trees could stave them away.
I’d have to return before the day’s end.
I did not know how long I remained on that bench gazing listlessly to the sky, the dark grey-black of the approaching storm denying me sight of the sun’s passage. I did not know how long would be enough for my parents’ anger to subside, nor could I even tell if my own ember of animosity had diminished enough to hold a genuine conversation. All I knew is that the wind had become even less accommodating and the material of my jacket was no longer enough to shield me from the strengthening rain.
By the time I’d reached that familiar front door, my clothing was drenched through and my hair was matted to my head beneath my hood. I looked every bit as though I’d washed up from the sea, and my forlorn demeanor only strengthened when I realized the door was locked without my key on-hand.
A few tentative knocks coupled with a painful silence and I was admitted back into the household. It seemed as though both parties had sobered up, even if the atmosphere was still just as overcast as the skies outside. I was in no state to fight and neither were they to start one, their words carrying the weight of a judge bearing down with a final verdict:
Starting next month, I would be paying rent.
It was not entirely unexpected, really, and it was also a form of compromise in its own way, a method of forcing me into the world without dictating how I went about it. This was the first time they’d brought it up, though, so odds were I could have simply closed my mouth and went along with what they said as I had in the past and it would have never happened. I had been vehemently defensive of Monument as an avenue worth exploring—an opportunity, an option—but now I had to decide whether to hedge my bet or double down completely.
A sigh rose unbidden to my lips, yet another of a steadily growing collection. What I wouldn’t give to return to those carefree days when I didn’t have to concern myself with any of this….
=====
Although the unexpected clash with my parents had left my mood and outlook tattered, by the time Thursday came I was feeling a small echo of the excitement I’d had from when I first heard Admin’s words. The acceptance slip had been kept in near perfect condition save for a few creases, and I tucked it away into my pocket before slipping free from the household into the city anew.
Although it was desire that had set the destination, the newfound weight of financial necessity set the pace. When I had first received word of the schedule, I had planned on arriving perhaps five minutes early with neither concern nor worry for being delayed, yet when the warehouse came into sight, I was twenty minutes ahead of even that. The sliding doors parted for me to reveal the same near-empty lobby as before, only this time Claire was actually manning the desk and the chairs lining the walls had disappeared.
“Got the job, then?” Claire asked in a decidedly conversational manner, her voice holding a great deal more cheer than when we’d first met, though it was hard to tell whether it was because we would potentially be co-workers or because I hadn’t caught her shirking the desk. Unlike the time previous, today her attire was a rather simple, casual affair: a nice simple blue t-shirt that emphasized her eyes with a dark grey jacket to weather the potential storm forecasted for later tonight.
“Supposedly.” I’d expected to jump through more hoops to get the job, and it stood to reason that this “orientation” may very well just be another hurdle before I was assigned in truth. “I take it you’re the receptionist, then?” I followed her question with one of my own, moving closer to drop my acceptance sheet on the counter before gesturing towards the rest of the empty lobby. “Did I get here too early?”
“Heh. No, no, it’s just in the lounge,” Claire waved off my mild concern with a literal movement of her hand, her other drawing towards a stack of paper on the desk before snatching one up and pressing it towards me. A quick, cursory glance revealed a surprisingly legalistic tint to it, and as my brows creased in curiosity, her words following affirmed it. “Just an NDA. Companies like to keep their secrets, and even I had to sign one.”
The document itself was rather dry and simple as I looked through it, even if there were some things that seemed particularly curious. Apparently, everything I was to be doing was going to be classified, even to the point that I couldn’t publicly refer to myself with more specification than “Monument Employee”. As the trailblazer for this type of game, I wasn’t too surprised to see their tech and trade secrets on the list, but to require my silence on so many details besides was unexpected. Still, it wasn’t like there was anybody for me to share this stuff with in the first place.
Once I’d scribbled my name along the line and handed it back to Claire, she looked it over with a brief nod before placing it away in one of the drawers. “Alright then. This way, please,” she motioned with her hand as she stepped out from behind the counter, a pair of form-fitting jeans replacing the skirt from before as she guided me away from the counter and towards a pair of double doors to the left of the entranceway. “Matt should be here in about twenty minutes. I think almost everyone’s here, so chat a bit before then.”
I’d taken it for granted that my early arrival would have spared me from coming into contact with too many others, and I’d also grown a bit too accustomed to the vacant nature of the building. Once those doors were opened and the room beyond was revealed to me, I could only view my earlier thinking as naive; a rather sizeable group of people were already chatting away amongst themselves, and it was now obvious where the lobby chairs had disappeared to.
A good majority of the crowd still seemed to be in the later stages of their teenage years—about as I’d expected given the subject matter—but there was still a healthy variety all the same. Most of the younger applicants were crowded around each other near the room’s center, but a few sensible others were waiting casually on the outskirts within hearing range without putting themselves forward. There was even a man so old I could mistake him for somebody’s grandfather, and as he took notice of my entrance and interest, he returned a soft, paternal smile out of place in such a gaming-centric environment.
The unnecessarily noisy environment immediately left me soured on my decision to come early, and—rather than bother with it at all—I simply turned around and left the room entirely. Claire didn’t realize she had company until she’d returned to her desk, and when she noticed my retreat from the lounge, all she could do was offer me a few blinks in confusion, uncertainty crossing her features as I deviated so firmly from the rest.
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“I’ll just wait out here before it starts,” I half explained, half asserted, my eyes sweeping over the chairless walls once more before settling for the floor. I’d positioned myself outside of the casual path and viewing of others, and—without a valid reason to stop me—Claire just silently watched as I claimed a small section for my own.
Claire continued to look at me with uncertain bewilderment for a few moments longer before her gaze returned to her computer, likely watching or reading something to stave off the time between arrivals. As for me, I was content to simply rest and watch the clock tick by if the alternative was to stick around in the lounge, and the awkwardly silent atmosphere began to grow more relaxed as Claire grew less reserved in ignoring my presence.
The comfortable peace was rarely broken, a few more people entering the building to follow the same pattern I had: go to the front desk, sign the NDA, get directed to the lounge. I paid only the barest of attention to them, and I received the same in kind; only one particularly short girl seemed to glance my way as she was led towards the rest of the gathering, but it seemed more out of shock at having not noticed me earlier than anything resembling interest. She was shepherded inside just like the others in the end, however, and just like this I spent the last few minutes in relative comfort.
“What are ya doin’ out here?” I heard Admin’s voice before I saw him, his words pulling my gaze from the clock. He himself was two minutes early and hadn’t come from the front door like the others, and despite his broad frame it turned out his footsteps were surprisingly light. “What, got cold feet? Ya shoulda just stayed home, then.”
I could only roll my eyes at such a half-baked taunt, though it seemed to be the reaction he was looking for; his smirk grew more pronounced all the while and he watched on with interest as I rose to my feet. “I’m early,” I began, stretching out the stiffness in my knees while Claire not so stealthily watched with a curiosity of her own. “Where I wait is my own business.”
“S’pose so, ya. Though a word of warning: yer not some urchin pulled from the street, an’ this isn’ some charity.” Admin’s voice grew lower at that, his easygoing gaze shifting towards Claire momentarily before returning to me anew. “Be mindful that I’m the boss here an’ we’ll get along just fine. I don’t mind that mouth o’ yours, but I can see why yer history is so shit.”
To this, I didn’t really have anything I could say. It looked as though he’d glanced at my background between meetings, and as much as his tone made venom pool at the edge of my tongue, I made a conscious effort to swallow it for now. That he’d go out of his way to let me know he’d done his research showed the gravity of his words, and the weight bore down upon me and caused my head to bow ever so slightly in acquiescence. With a lingering pause, I managed to squeeze out a low “Right.” in agreement before my brows creased in displeasure; I could only hope that he did not test me like this too often, lest I failed before long.
With that trial completed, Admin’s expression returned to that of lazy smugness, the face of a man who knew he could do as he pleased without the desire to actually do so. “Come in, then, little bug. Got some news tha’ might interest ya.” Before I could so much as blink, I felt that overbearing hand of his on my shoulder, and it was to my detriment that an earlier curiosity of mine was solved: the strength he had used with his handshake from before was just his natural tendency.
I’d intended to follow behind Admin so as to avoid standing out, yet he made a thorough effort to thwart me even in this, his palm guiding me beside him until we’d stepped into the lounge itself. The clamor continued even after his entrance, and he released me to my own devices before walking up towards the other end of the room, drawing more and more attention his way in the process. By the time he’d reached his destination and I my chair, a loud clap silenced what remained of the speakers as he looked out at the others like a king might his subjects, his chin tilted slightly upward with the arrogance afforded only to the one in charge.
“Alright then! Fer those who don’ know me, jus’ call me Admin,” he began his little speech without a hint of restraint, his teeth exposed in his self-indulgent grin. “Starting today, yer all the property of Monument Gaming, here to slave away until yer bodies break down and yer hearts give out. This isn’ an easy job just anyone can walk into, an’ if I catch anyone slackin’, I’ll either toss yer ass out or put you to the toilets.”
Rather than be cowed, most of the crowd simply snickered and nodded along with his words, though whether it was from flippant disregard or tacit agreement I could not easily say. Considering the hiring process and how much emphasis had been placed upon my own merits, it was likely that these people had all stood out in some manner through their exploits in the beta; it wouldn’t surprise me if they actually felt Admin’s demands were loose.
“Most of ya are gonna get a different job. Some of ya will be official Monument staff out there playin’ as an NPC or Helper ta make th’ world feel more alive. We wanna add that personal, human touch to the interactions here ‘n there ‘til nobody can tell the difference ‘tween the AI and real people.” That actually did cause some commotion, a few muted whispers passed around the occupants while my own eyebrows raised ever so slightly.
There had definitely been a bit of stiffness in Aurora’s AI in the beta, but that had hardly been seen as an issue at the time. It felt artificial and unpolished in some small areas—predictable, even—but that was just the limitations of AI in general, and it was even deemed ahead of its time by far. I certainly hadn’t expected them to be hiring people to mimic NPCs, but I had to admit it probably would make the whole place more immersive. And, of course, with those NDAs—
“O’ course, what I jus’ said doesn’t leave this building. Makin’ a world as immersive as possible only lasts s’long as the players don’ understand what’s going on under the hood. The moment someone catches wind of other people playin’ NPCs, it’s done.” Admin’s voice had become very forceful at this point, his eyes holding a steely cast as his attention drew along the crowd. “At best, ya can expect to be terminated. Immediately.” His arms folded across his chest, his tone growing every bit threatening before he continued. “Worst, legal action. This is not somethin’ that will be tolerated. The boss wants Aurora ta be the best, to be another world, and if anybody here fucks that up, well... everybody loses.”
A few more whispers spilled forward at that, one of them even growing heated before the owner threw her hand up into the air, her voice erupting out in an almost accusatory manner before even being called upon. “You say we’ll be playing NPCs, but what kind of NPCs? You’re not going to make us sit around in shops doing nothing, right? If you are, then fuck this, but I didn’t come here to play pretend of some other shitty day job.”
Silence returned right after she’d finished, and it was an agitated Admin that glanced her way, his smile noticeably forced and unpleasant. “What you’ll end up playing depends on what you were doing before you got hired, Maki,” he responded in a manner even more coherent than normal, his tone holding firm heat. “Some people actually want to play parts like that. If you’re really so worried about it, don’t be; you have already been selected for a different role.”
I could all but feel the girl’s interest despite being several meters removed with only her lengthy blond hair viewable from the back. It seemed as though she was about to launch into another outburst, too, before Admin cut in once again, “And if yer wondering what you’ll be, wait until the end. You’ll all be receivin’ yer assignments on an individual basis, so let me get through the basics first.”
The girl seemed to hesitate at that, debating on whether or not she should confront him again on the matter, but either his answer or his unpleasant expression seemed to mollify her for the time being and he launched again into his speech. “Everythin’ ya do will be done here, in this building. Each of ya will have their own personal capsule and room which you can use, and only time spent here will count towards the job.” Though the words came as a surprise to me—a personal room apiece for each person here?—I eventually began to understand; the building’s size wasn’t an incidental thing. “These capsules have special privileges and unique IDs ya can’t access anywhere else.
Another nod from me, as did many of the others at this point. The whispers from before had largely died down after the blond-haired girl’s question and the subsequent response; by now, most of the others seemed to have already decided whether they’d stay or go, with the former listening closely and the latter no longer invested enough to interrupt.
“Aurora’s openin’ is just around the corner. ‘Til then, we’ll be doin’ a few tests and studies ta make sure nothing messes up for when the real thing comes, so expect ta be put to work startin’ this Monday.” Ah, that had managed to get some murmurs from the crowd, a few holding concern at the date while a far greater number expressed excitement. These were all people that had played the beta to extremes, after all, and it was hardly surprising that they’d be eager to return ahead of the public release.“That’s about it. Details of yer employment have already been written down; see Claire at the front desk ta receive ‘em, and come ta me if ya have any questions.”
There was silence for a bit, Admin retaining the floor for a few moments longer before he just casually strolled away from the front and through the lounge doors, disappearing from sight once they closed behind him. Taking his absence as a cue, the majority of the others also rose to their feet and followed after into the lobby, their excitement and curiosity audible even after they’d left. Every so often, the opened doors would reveal a half-floundering Claire trying to cater to the throng of people as quickly as she could amidst some eager cries, a line already formed while she sorted out the paperwork and responsibility she’d been saddled with.
The small group that had remained in the lounge—with the blonde in the center—chatted animatedly amongst each other with a seeming lack of concern for anything else. It reminded me quite a bit of the social hierarchies of my own high school days, and their near omnipresent youth only furthered the impression. The topics filtering through to the outskirts where I sat were nearly all Aurora-related, however, with some guild names thrown into the mix as well; perhaps they’d all been a part of the same guild before and collecting like this was a normal occurrence for them?
I only half-listened to them chatting away while waiting for the line to diminish, and once Claire was free at the counter once more, I slipped from the lounge into the lobby to retrieve my own own sheet. With most of the other assignments already handed out prior, it took her far less time to find mine and I was presented with it only a few seconds after she’d seen me approaching.
Name: Brendan (Moth) Schutts. Moth preferred.
Room: A112
Time: 35+ hours/week minimum.
Pay: $2000/month salaried. No overtime pay.
Task: Alternate Races Research and Development, PvE Enrichment Program
Start: Monday, 6pm, A112.
Note: Weekly meetings every Monday at 6pm in room A208
... Ah? Looking at it, this kind of pay really wasn’t too bad, was it? Especially for something I would have been doing anyway. Strangely, though, the tasks themselves seemed to be rather confusing and I couldn’t help but wonder if they’d mistaken me for someone else. On the surface, both of them seemed rather… involved and detail-oriented, and it wasn’t as though I had any experience or knowledge with game design to really help out with this stuff.
A glance to Claire earned a giggle for the effort, and all I could do was furrow my brows in confusion while she waved it off. “Everybody had the same reaction, though I didn’t expect it from you. Bit strange to see you make a face like that.”
My lips pursed, my expression growing even more discontent at her observation, though that seemed to only satisfy her more. Rather than put up with what was bound to be another statement to the same effect, I moved instead towards the A-wing hallway, only to find nearly the entire crowd packed in with the same destination as my own. Unwilling either to mingle with the crowd or wait for it to thin, I took the only sensible option remaining and left altogether, walking home with the prickling of a curiosity left unsatisfied.
I’d probably get some kind of idea of what I’d end up doing before Monday rolled around. At the very worst, I’d probably find out on the first day, anyway; there was no need to put so much focus on it in the meantime.