SAVE POINT 43
EmeraldCity_88
One minute, all was going completely well—I'd ensnared the three troublesome ones in a circle, caught in the swirling darkness of the Black Orymouss—smoke hounds—and I was about to get the dragons back… The next minute?
Beep.
What in the name of all fuckery was this?
***Welcome EMERALDCITY_88, UNIDENTIFIED CLASS, UNIDENTIFIED LEVEL To Multiplayer Mode***
[Multiplayer Mode Objective: Capture The Flag.]
The Game banners fizzled out of view, replaced by a very white room.
And I was standing in a white jumpsuit, not my normal clothes.
Of all the days for this shit to happen. Today was not a great day to be involved in children's games. ...Or was it? I breathed deeply, trying to reset my balance. I pondered this new perspective. What if today was the perfect moment for whatever this was, and I just didn't know it yet? It'd never been my intent to dive head-first into a video game world when I came across the chat room that had led me here. Everything had just...worked out. And, now, I'd found Skipper again. Perhaps this too could be a blessing in disguise. I'd take it.
"System, tell me what happens if I complete the mission objective?" I barked, hoping this worked like a RPG or something.
[System Understands Query…Loading Response…]
The Game loaded slowly, circling. Guess I wasn’t the only one who hadn't had my coffee this morning...
[System Answer: If EMERALDCITY_88, UNIDENTIFIED CLASS, UNIDENTIFIED LEVEL Acquires The Flag, Her Deepest Will Will Be Activated In The Game. Currently, Her Deepest Will Is For AMMAT, SERVANT 4 To Transform Into The Essence Of Her Deceased Sister From Earth, Skipper.]
My heart leapt—skittered. My breath caught. Oh my Gods. Seriously?! I could have my real sister back—my little sis? For REAL?
I gritted my teeth together. I was definitely playing. That was one hell of a prize. Perhaps I was being blessed after all. I knew I was lucky.
I smoothed the flyways of my green hair from where they'd spilled out of my pigtails framing my cheeks. I'd need to focus now. Skipper, here I come, I thought to myself, as I pressed a glowing, neon dot in the air.
Except it was lame; I saw that right away. Even freaking Ray Charles could see that shit.
[
Really?! I got all psyched up about how Skipper was on the line and everything, and the next step was this? Decorating this room? ...I guessed it was kinda white... My eyes rolled around the spotless corners. I doubted there was even a cobweb there.
...But you kind of had to do what the system wanted you to. I huffed, scrolling through the boring-ass options; if I chose any of them, all my hair would fall out immediately from lack of stimulation. In fact, I might just want to cut some jagged holes in the couches to see what type of stuffing they were made out of. They all looked like pristine, hotel lobbies: mostly white or gray aesthetic with plain-Jane, fabric couches and books piled on smooth coffee tables next to planters with those little succulents everyone was freaking out about two years ago. How snooze-fest could you get? I wasn’t even sure I wanted this if it was free; it was that bad.
Wait...the system was supposed to be helpful, right? I chewed on my bottom lip. Let's hope the manual commands worked again.
"System," I called, "Spice up my options...a lot. Show me some gothic, steampunk or green inspired ones...something fucking interesting."
[System Understands Query…Loading Response…]
And, to my slow appreciation, the thing did it—it generated new room options. A smile slid up my lips as I swiped through the new list. Damn, these were good. We had a scary, gothic church with a big screen...a basement filled with cogs and wheels next to a fireplace...several mansion rooms that might as well be in every survival horror video game I'd ever played. Way to go, System.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
I hovered over the last one, selecting it—I mean, hello, epic green!—and the room transformed around me. Dark, dark and darker—just how I liked it. Who knew a little bit of inspiration would be such a big boost to going into this thing?
I looked around. The room had luxury written all over it...and green—obviously, green. An emerald, velvet couch lay waiting for me behind a green-marble coffee table. A drink bar—also emerald in color—was decorated with ornate, gold trim along the top and waiting for my every alcoholic desire.
But back to business... I glanced at the next prompt on the screen:
[
'Well, this should be easy,' I thought as I swiped hurriedly through the list; I didn't want any of these morons...
There. There I was.
I eyed digital me up and down and liked what I saw. Yes, selected, epic. But another pop-up displayed:
[
Ew, team members? Ick. There really was no ‘me’ in team; I’d always made sure of that. I was kind of hoping to knock this one out solo, but I didn’t see an option for that. Anyways...
I flipped through, selecting the biggest and baddest-looking brutes.
[
[Yes] [No]
Hell yes; I was NOT playing with some low-level, base model knot head. I flipped through the stats, increasing their damage ability, health and flipping all of their motivations to 'vengeance'. No one needed a nice guy to fuck this mission up. It was winner take all at all costs. And I would stand the winner after this with Skipper back by my side. Finally.
The thought of it filled me with more warmth than I expected. Damn, I loved my little sis. I remembered teaching her how to put on makeup for the first time, dotting her nose with rouge so she looked like Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer, only to swipe it off and teach her correctly. I remembered her giggle—the t-shirt she loved which she'd gotten at her first rock concert…how I'd kept it in bed with me after she died just to smell it. To have a piece of her.
Now, I had a chance to have more than just a piece, and I didn't care what the rules were, I would dominate this game. I would win. For her. For me—finally for me.
[System Alert: A Coin Toss Has Determined You Choose The Level]
[
More of this bullshit? I didn't even look. I was done with options. I wanted action. I needed to begin this challenge. The tension of it all gathered in my clenching fists. I stabbed a finger at the screen, not caring which image that finger landed on.
[
Whatever.
I swiped the notice out of view before the next popped up, anticipation thrumming through my fingertips.
[System Alert: In The Multiplayer Game, Your Avatar Stats Will Reflect Your Current Gamer Stats And Be Applied To The Game After Playing.]
[
[Yes] [No]
You bet. I couldn't press 'yes' fast enough.
And the screen jumped to life. And there was me—well, the video-game, animated version of me. I stared at the back of my wispy, green hair and green-and-leather assassin outfit. Down a brick hallway, I saw the flashing, green tag of a muscled teammate in a courtyard. And I had a semi-automatic rifle in my hands as animated me shifted from foot to foot, holding it.
Time to rock this.
In real life, a controller appeared, bobbing above my hands, and I snatched it out of limbo, dropping to the green-embroidered couch I’d created.
I got a grip on the movements first, walking forward, hearing my feet echo with each step on the brick floor. Now, this was cool. This was something I could get into. Find the flag. Duck the fire. And get my sister literally back. I was ALL in.
I galloped forward, weaving quickly through the halls that all looked the same, my finger tensed and ready on the fire button as the black weapon hovered in my view. My eyes efficiently scanned brick room and hallway after brick room and hallway. A knife on the floor? Seriously? I wanted firepower. They thought I was going to trade my gun for a knife? I quickly dismissed any chance of that by buzzing right by it. I remembered something about ‘black magic abilities in the presence of a dragon’ from when I’d selected my avatar. Guess I'd find out what that did later... What button would that even be? A combination of two buttons? But I didn’t have a dragon so… I tried a few before giving up. I had shit to do.
An arch led to the courtyard. I quickly ducked under it, ratcheting my view upward to scan the arches overhead for enemies.
Maybe I was paranoid, but I thought I saw two red tags darting above—
Bullets rained down on my head.
[-2 HP, 8/10]
"Fuck!" I screamed into the empty room, hearing my shout echo like the reminder of what this game meant to me right now—being not alone. Having someone next to me again...someone in my corner who cared. Skipper. I was going to win this.
I bit my lip, my fingers working over the controls. I raced back to shelter. I whipped around to return the fire.
And I blasted those archways above, with a stream of pure hell, watching my ammo lower.
[System Reward: The Literal Kind Of Smoke Show, Nice Shooting! +5 XP, 86/100]
…But the red tags were gone.
"You little shits," I swore, breathing heavy and readjusting myself on the edge of the couch. Cautiously, I started down another hallway, looking for some sort of stairs.
Where the fuck were the scumbats that’d shot me up? And, more importantly...where was my flag?