Hundreds of people wearing bronze mail, intricately fashioned leather, or the odd athletic garment were crowded around the training hall as they were slowly funneling inside. The aroma of fresh bisques, gravy and hash browns hung in the air only drowned out by everyone's nervous energy.

Getting here an hour early had given me the luxury of taking my time to finish my own breakfast and better understand how training was going to work here. I leaned against the wall of the bank across the street as I watched the crowd try to fit through the two double-wide entrances of the training hall.

It was the only modern building in all of Willingham. Standing one story tall, its outer walls shone like a polished pearl. It was a seamless structure all around. The roof wasn’t shingled, but a low, sea-blue dome at its peak that flared out over the top of the building like a bubble. It was just like the solar roofs of the real world.

There were far too many people to fit inside the building the building at once, so I suspected they were teleported to different training areas depending on the trainer they choose. The quest notes we had received for finishing the main quest Survive Week One even implied as much.

Note: Porting into a Gym or Training Room requires you to go to the physical location of a Training Facility. If an enemy army of more than 100 enters your city gate you will be ported out of training immediately and will spawn at the Training Facility.

It felt like we were all here for a sporting event. Men and women were rolling their shoulders, stretching where they stood, and trying to loosen up. There were still only rumors as to what to expect when you entered the Training Hall. A few players from the early classes had already left, but I hadn't spoken to any of them.

I didn't know what to make of it, but the gamers and athletes had started to blend together in a way I had never seen before. Sure there was still the physical difference, the gamers were mostly thinner or chubbier than the athletes who were in better shape, but the groups I saw had more of a mixture of the two than I had ever thought possible; and it had only been a week. I wouldn't say the rivalry had died, because there were still many obvious gamer and athlete only groups. Still, something about this place was changing us.

Taking a bit of my half eaten burrito, I was happy for the food since nearly everyone had brought their breakfast. The temptation would have been too much and I would have spent my coin at one of the merchant stands. That was a sure way of spending too much.

The term burrito may not have been entirely correct. This thing had weighed nearly a pound when I had first started chowing down on it. Either way, you can't go wrong with eggs drenched in cheddar and layered with bacon bits all wrapped in a massive flour tortilla.

My breakfast was more practical than most of the players. People carried plates filled with country fried streak, steaming bowls of soup and even roasted chicken. Trying to clean up last minute might prove difficult. One exception was the biscuits that were everywhere, coating the entire area in a fresh baked, buttery smell. Then there was another group that had found fresh produce and was chomping on apples. I would have almost traded my burrito for a couple. Almost.

My purpose in being here was the same as everyone else. Today was a Saturday June 20, just the sixth day since we had entered Freedom. It was the day that the Training Facilities opened giving us access to some of the best martial arts and skill trainers the real world had to offer. Even though I didn't trust the game developers for a second since they had allowed 100% pain to be an aspect of Freedom, they, with the government's backing, had spared no expense in providing for us masters in the combat arts and survival. There was time to protest later. Now I would take advantage of all the help I could get to grow stronger.

Cornelius, the only Combat Arts master that had agreed to participate directly in Freedom, had recommended I find his friend Achilles to train me. Achilles was a legend in his own right, but had received fairly bad reviews from the people he had trained before. It wasn't just him that people were lining up for but dozens of different training classes had orientation at the 9:00 am timeslot. The first classes had started as early as 6:00 am and more would open up at the top of each hour for the rest of the day. Since they had spread the start times out there were only hundreds of players here and not thousands.

I noticed a man who walked passed me, going around the outskirts of the crowd. He was a specimen of a man wearing nothing but a dust colored outfit who was dragging himself toward a two story, gray-brick building. The doorway arched well above his head even though he was tall enough to be considered a small giant.

What had made him stand out wasn't just his destination or size, but it was the same look I had seen on the faces of two other players since I had gotten here ten minutes ago. His shoulders sagged forward and his eyes were downcast. This was the last trip he would make in Codename: Freedom. Today, he was quitting.

Even after we had been victorious defeating the goblin's western army and finishing the first major event, Survive Week One, it was estimated that close to five thousand people had quit in the last week since the opening day. There were other gamers and athletes joining for the first time and taking their place.

Most people ignored him, not wanting to cause him embarrassment, or perhaps trying to ignore their own doubts of staying here. Shamefully, a few shook their heads at him in disgust.

Another player had made the same trip just minutes before. He had worn the same dust colored clothes, likely leaving all of his items and gold to a friend or group before he willingly leaving for good. Just a week before I would have looked down upon the both of them, but after my first night here I had experienced the worst pain of my life. A hulking hobgoblin over nine feet tall had shattered my back with a club the size of a small tree. It had taken me hours to recover and there was nothing in Freedom that dampened pain except maybe alcohol. I couldn't look down on the man. Instead, I secretly wished him better luck elsewhere.

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The danger in leaving wasn't just that you would lose the opportunity to participating in Freedom. Everyone playing was either a pro or semi-pro athlete or gamer. There were billions of people viewing us as we played. Quitting could lose you fans and even cause sponsors to abandon you. It could hurt or even ruin your careers.

My fan base had wavered for a time, but after the fight battle of the Survive Week One quest I now had approximately ninety four million followers. Even now there was close to a million people watching me and I was just standing here waiting. Many of those viewers were probably bots here to keep a close eye on me and inform their user if anything interesting was happening. As amazing as that was, it was also nerve wracking. The only time I knew no one was watching me was when I was in the bathroom.

This was my first time in this part of Willingham. The rare brick building the defeated man headed toward was the town hall. Above the arched doorway on the face of the building were two large windows with deep green shutters, still open this early in the morning to welcome the sun before its heat became too much. The roof peeked at its center, a bell tower stretching even higher overhead. Though the building was meant to be a thing of pride and accomplishment to its people, for those leaving this virtual world it had to be rather intimidating.

The Training Hall was cattycorner to the town hall and across the street from the bank that I leaned against now. Finishing my burrito, it was time. Pushing off of the wall, I crossed the packed dirt street and funneled in behind a stocky girl wearing polished bronze chainmail and a tall skinny guy with leather armor from head to toe. Only his face was protruding out of his leather hoody.

Even with the rather large crowd it was only fifteen minutes before I made it inside.

Passing through the entrance on the left, I found the floor was a textured silver stone that was too perfect to be natural. The walls were just as artificial, lined with modern digital wall panels that had many different functions like producing light, and acting as interactive monitors. They glowed with a soft white giving the room a clean feel.

I only walked a few meters before the rest of the crowd disappeared. It had been a seamless transition, but I had obviously been ported to an identical room without any other players. At the far end of the room, only a handful of steps from where I stood, an elderly man examined me with squinted eyes. He had a bald head and silver goatee reaching down to his chest, resting on a black long sleeved robe similar to a gi still used in many traditional martial arts. The only difference was the upper garment reached down to his knees.

“Welcome Lucius. You are here very early for Achilles' class. Were you interested in looking the range of trainers available to you while you wait? There are many different kinds of combat and it is possible to choose more than one trainer if you can afford the cost. If you are interested in crafting or testing the advancement simulator, those options are now available to you.” The old man said in a deep baritone that seemed to belong to a much younger and larger man.

Any question as to whether the man was really a person or AI was answered when he had mentioned Achilles' name. It was expected that an AI that had been surveilling the player base would know that I would pick Achilles. They would have watched my reactions with all of my dealings with Cornelius.

“I would like to view the list, please.”

He nodded and a large window appeared before me as wide as my arm span and as high as I could reach.

It was the same list that had appeared under the new option that had appeared in my menu. Still, I had it in front of me and I had time. Might as well give it a scan.

The list itself was little more than what it sounds like. There was an image of the trainer on the left, followed by name and some basic information. If you clicked on the name or picture more information would popup, including reviews from people that had trained with the person outside of Freedom.

Bringing up Achilles, I had to admit I wouldn't have picked him after reading the reviews.

I will start this by saying that I am a huge fan of Achilles and nothing will change that, but training with him is like a really intense philosophy lesson. I just want to learn to fight.

If I wanted someone to condemn me I would go to church. As much of a legend as he is I wouldn't recommend this class to anyone.

Achilles focus on basics was annoying for someone with a decade of fighting experience, but mixed with the lectures I couldn’t make it past the first week.

You get the idea. It looked like I was in for more than just training drills. The reviews weren't entirely negative. About fifty percent of them sung his praises.

Achilles doesn't just train you in self-defense, or for a career in the Melee Combat Arts Association (MCAA) but in the discipline of life.

I wasn't really sure that I knew exactly what the “discipline of life” was supposed to mean, but at least it sounded like there was a purpose behind the lectures everyone warned about. Honestly, Achilles even surpassed Cornelius, so if there were parts of his training that people didn't like, it was probably those things that separated him from the other masters. I hoped.

Something the old man had mentioned came to mind.

Turning to him I asked. “What is the advancement simulator?”

“It allows you to test out possible character builds before you spend your Advancement Points. Although, it is limited. You can only test the next tier of Abilities. The ultimate level Abilities will not be available through the simulator until you unlock them.”

Well that seemed to be both helpful and a waste of time. I was a low enough level that I could get a better idea how to spend my next Ability and Advancement Points, but if I couldn't use the simulator for the highest level Abilities then I couldn’t test end game builds. When I got the time I would use it to plan ahead.

I had a feeling I knew why they were hidden from us though, and it wasn't just to build suspense for the billions of viewers. If what Victoria had hinted at about when she mentioned she wanted to be a combat general was true, then these abilities were comparable to the highest level of military grade augmented enhancements. Some of those things were still top secret and unknown to the public. Would that allow such things here?

As an example, combat generals were plugged into the highest levels of the military’s version of the Metaverse and had the ability to watch a war from the eyes of any soldier, vehicle or drone. They watched over the battlefield and ultimately directed their armies. They were the all-seeing voice in the head of every soldier. It was like the game of chess with a billion different pieces, each with their own capabilities.

In other words, there probably wasn't a single high level ability that wouldn't blow your mind if they really allowed the best military tech.

“Is it too early to enter the training meta?” I asked.

“No. Achilles won't arrive for twenty seven minutes, but people are starting to arrive for tryouts.”

“Tryouts?”

“Yes. Achilles has elected to train only those that pass an initiation phase.”

“I see.” Cornelius had said that I might have to mention his name to get Achilles to train me. Until now I hadn't taken that as literal.

“Okay. I am ready.”

The old man nodded.

The walls and ceiling faded away.