POV Seth

He struggled for breath. He knew he should get to his feet and face the new obscure change in his surroundings, but he was too exhausted to fight anymore. ‘Giving up over a few scrapes and bruises?’ his subconscious berated. ‘You’re not ready for the Killing Fields.’

He wasn’t giving up. He just needed a minute to rest. Those were two different things. The weight of his fatigue begged him to give himself over as it settled comfortably onto his chest. Just a few minutes…

He shut his eyes. He needed time to think.

‘You don’t have a few minutes! Get up!’ his subconscious ordered with a note of disbelief that lingered in the back of Seth’s mind.

He took a deep, rejuvenating breath then climbed to his feet. He agreed with his subconscious. Now was not the time for rest. He needed to push through…

… whatever this was.

His experience in the game so far meant he couldn’t trust the tranquility of this endless white void. He did not know when the environment would revert to the hostile darkness, and there was no way to prepare for what was coming.

“I was getting worried,” a male voice echoed in the pristine space. The brightness of the endless openness was surreal. At the heart of the space was a massive circular machine, whose center shaft pulsed with shining symbols that Seth couldn’t read. The symbols changed with every pulse of the light, like a conversation Seth wasn’t a part of.

“Hello?” Seth called out. Someone had spoken to him, but he couldn’t see them.

The machine’s writing flickered with excitement, the little symbols shifting from one form to the next in a chaotic dialog.

Lasers shot out from the top and lower consoles, creating a projection of a man in his late thirties. He was blond and clean shaven, but ill suited to the blank black military uniform he wore, free of rank and medals. He lacked the aura of uncompromising rigidity that Seth had long associated with the military. This man was wearing a costume, but why?

His blond brows furrowed in worry before he remembered his greeting. “Welcome, I am the Virtually Integrated Demonology Educational Logs. You may call me Videl.” He extended his hand to Seth.

The worry had faded, replaced with a broad, charming smile and a genuine aura of welcome.

Seth reached out to shake the virtual entity’s hand, but pulled away at the last second as the words settled in. Individually, he understood what each word meant, but together…

“What?” was all Seth managed as his mind raced with possibilities. Videl was a virtual training program designed specifically for demon-based combat, or at least Seth assumed that what the inferred meaning of the Videl acronym. Was he a lost piece of technology from the late twenty-first century? “What?” Seth reiterated in case Videl had misunderstood him for the first time.

If Videl had existed during the Incursion, then why were the demons still a problem today? How much time had passed between the Incursion and the present day was unknown. Between the dark age caused by the Incursion and the resettling of civilization, and the various controlling powers who needed to appear like they were making progress, the timeline, as Seth knew it, was more of an abstract concept.

As far as history went, Seth knew: within a few years of the Incursion, humanity had abandoned all major cities and fled North. The Military Regime had secured the safe zone, stabilizing an area for humanity to rebuild and thrive. When the Council enacted their coup, humanity had lost vast territories to the demons.

Which brought Seth back around to Videl’s origins. If he existed in the early stages of the Incursion, then either he remained incomplete, society had abandoned him, or he was developed too late to make a difference. Now he existed as a Hail Mary for future generations. But why send teenagers to retrieve such an invaluable piece of technology?

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“Why?” Seth followed up on his previous statements.

Videl ran his fingers through his blond hair. Deep concern for Seth’s mental wellbeing washed over his gentle features. He opened his mouth and spread his hands, intending to address some of Seth’s questions. Instead, he took a breath he didn’t need to take, shrugged, and said: “My apologies Champion, I don’t have the time to get into the nitty gritty and all the history and reasons I exist and all that. You’re just going to go with it.”

“Champion?” Seth was relieved that he could articulate something resembling a targeted question.

Videl replied sheepishly, “Technically, you’re just a candidate. It’d be rude to put you through the trials after your pilgrimage and call you something like an aspiring champion or something. It sort of undermines your efforts.” The virtual entity narrowed his eyes. “Lately, though, I’ve been getting a lot of under-qualified candidates. You have done your pilgrimage, right?”

“Pilgrimage?”

Videl was silent for a long moment before concluding with, “You’re not here for the trial.”

“They sent me to collect a data-pack,” Seth admitted, hoping to end his last game quickly.

The virtual entity narrowed his eyes, but this time, his confusion had turned to suspicion. “You what? No. No.” After a thoughtful pause he followed up with a firm, “No! You can’t have it!” He turned to the machine, ran both hands through his hair and plunged his face into his hands. “God damnit, I knew I should have deffraggled the system!” The machine’s light-pulse slowed apologetically.

Videl gestured dismissively at the machine, “Agh, it’s not your fault. I just don’t like how it makes me feel, all numb and fuzzy and stuff. I need to keep my wits! And you know why.” He pointed at the machine, who whirred a response Seth didn’t understand.

The virtual entity turned on Seth. “Sorry ‘bout that. Look… I know your being here isn’t one-hundred percent your fault...”

“I just want to grab the data-pack and get the hell out of here,” Seth said while pointing to the machine.

“I get that,” Videl acknowledged. “And for reasons I’m not getting into… let’s say it’s ummm… it’s below your pay grade, I’m not letting you leave here alive with anything. Digital. Physical. Ephemeral. Nothing.” He stared Seth in the eyes. “EVER,” he said, reinforcing his point. Before Seth could counter, Videl had continued, “Problem is you’re here now. Someone sent you. Either they knew I was here, which can go either way. They know why I’m here, which is bad. Or they have no fucking clue and you lot just stumbled on me by accident, which I don’t buy. You wanna know why?”

Seth braced himself. “Why?”

“Because someone has been sending people to me every year, like clockwork. That’s why!” Videl stabbed Seth in the chest with a very solid finger to emphasize his point. “I thought it was just for the trials, you know? No biggy! Sure, I thought it was a little weird that I’d get sent a bunch, but that’s not my call. I mean, I did mine solo, but you know. Different strokes for different folks and all that. Thought nothing of it!” The machine whirred, drawing the virtual entity’s attention. He nodded to whatever it had said.

“You’re right, I have a job to do. And I’m damn good at it… Most of the time.” He nodded to himself again, confirming the right level of self-praise. “So if you don’t mind, I’m going to do my job now. If you pass the trial, we can sort out the rest later.”

The way his ‘if’ hung in the air made Seth queasy. “Wait! I’m not a candidate! I’m just here to get the data!”

‘Coward’ The thought was loaded with disbelief and self-loathing, he couldn’t believe he had ever played life so safe.

Challenging Videl was not what his instincts were pushing for. Videl, the machine, this space, it all felt significant to the point of being life altering. Whatever steps he took, it would change the course of his life permanently.

The virtual entity regarded Seth again, this time weighing his candidacy. “You’re going through the trials, anyway. It’s the job. Protocol and all that,” he added with a shrug. “No one enters my space all willy-nilly and doesn’t go through the trials. Them’s the rules!”

“You’re just making that up!” Seth countered.

Videl shook his head. “Nope. Definitely the rules.”

Videl’s voice thundered in the vast emptiness of the void. “Now choose.”

The machine’s pulse grew erratic with excitement. The symbols changed rapidly, chattering hurriedly as they processed the system’s commands.

Several fluid portals opened, merging and expanding or breaking apart and shrinking, as players entered or exited each other’s personal space. He saw every player. Seth’s squad was on the left, Squad IX on the right. Seth’s team was scouring every room for even the smallest piece of technology that might hold the data-pack. The opposing squad was in a server room, trying to revive the ancient technology just long enough to grab what they thought they needed.

He dreaded what was coming next. There was no way they’d be able to defend themselves against Videl’s systems.

“Choose,” Videl repeated, “which team dies?”