Erik’s body hummed with tension as he slid into the VR capsule, one of six laid out in a circle in the center of a massive space. He guessed it had been a warehouse at one point, but now it looked more like the world's biggest studio apartment. Birch wood floors shined brightly under the long fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling. Shelves lined the walls, filled with gaming paraphernalia from posters of past tournaments to collectible action figures. A large 3-D hologram displayed real-time game stats, adding to the ambiance.
Erik’s legs dangled over the edge of his pod as he coughed gently into one hand, trying to ease the persistent itch in his throat.
“See you on the inside,” Marcus called from his right as he lay down in his own capsule.
Erik glanced to his left, where Sarah was tying up her hair and situating herself in her pod. He brought his legs up before laying back, sinking slowly into the gel padding as it conformed to the shape of his body.
“Your team really went all out on these,” Erik called to Sarah from where he lay. Dyson Pods were already expensive, and these ones were definitely high-end models.
“It was my sponsors. I don’t know if they ever expected we’d win the whole international tournament. Since then, it’s like they’ll write a check for anything,” Sarah replied as he glanced around the room, the lavish setup a testament to her sponsors' deep pockets. There was even a wall of old gaming PCs, shining with the RGB lights that had once been so popular, as if they were some kind of vintage cars restored to working order and left to gather dust on a showroom floor.
“Well, I’m glad they’re letting us use them,” Erik said, and from his other side, Marcus snorted derisively. Sarah ignored him, and Erik couldn’t chide Marcus for being rude while he fought to suppress a cough.
The cover of the capsules came down before the familiar blue lights began to glow dimly from within the gel so that he wasn’t shut in total darkness. He closed his eyes, feeling a mild hum run up his back until it reached his brain, which felt as if it were vibrating gently. Slowly, the dim lights faded away into darkness, but Erik knew what had actually happened. The capsule was hijacking his senses, establishing the link and making sure it was stable. He tried to close his eyes but found they didn't exist; he didn’t exist. Just a mind without connection to a body, floating in darkness. This part of the process was known to give people anxiety, and Erik could see why, but not him. The itch in his throat, the bone-deep aches, and the weakness of his muscles all faded away as the capsule took over.
Then the world returned; not the real world, the VR world, his world. A hexagonal grid expanded in every direction, taking shape and filling with color. In moments, he was standing in a room with a reflective floor of darkened glass, neon lights in a riot of colors trimming the edges. The ceiling was made of the same material, glittering like a pool of ink high above him. He inhaled deeply, holding his hands up and curling his fingers tightly, both things he couldn’t do anymore in the real world since he’d gotten sick.
Marcus caught his attention with a wave as he made his way over from the right. His old familiar avatar was just as tall as he was in the real world but bulkier. His comically oversized cowboy hat, along with a muscle shirt sporting the Texas flag, complemented the thick cigar he always had dangling from his lip.
“Little Rik,” the big man said, thumping Erik on the back as he moved to stand next to him.
“You can’t seriously still be using that Texas muscle man skin,” Sarah said as she joined them. She was wearing her Battle Arena avatar, the same avatar she’d been using since she’d gone pro at the game a few years ago, a game the three of them had at one time played together.
She was an anthropomorphized rabbit woman with white fur. Her ears dangled down the back of her head the same way her ponytail did in real life.
“I figured you’d grow up eventually,” she told Marcus as she approached, her eyes moving up and down his tall avatar, her expression critical.
“I’m not the one running around looking like an oversized stuffed animal,” he fired back with a grin, shifting the cigar in his mouth to the other side. Sarah grimaced, which was a peculiar expression for a rabbit's face, and she shrugged.
“Not my call. The sponsors ‘insist’ we wear the game avatars, that and contractual obligation.”
“Won’t matter here soon,” Erik said, looking himself over. His avatar wasn’t much different from his real self: short, with blond hair and brown eyes. He hadn’t cared to embellish his looks like most people did. It was the style of clothing that made him stand out from the crowd. Erik had always possessed an enduring love of all things steampunk, and his avatar reflected that. Goggles had replaced his glasses, he wore 1920s-style pants with buttons, suspenders with a button-up shirt, and his hair was cut short on the sides and somewhat longer on top. From his avatar’s inventory, he pulled out one of his favorite hats: a short top hat made from faded leather and covered with brass buttons of different sizes. He placed it atop his head, adjusted it so it sat at an angle, and then tucked his thumbs under his suspenders, leaning back on his heels.
“Right, right,” Marcus grumbled. “Dinosaurs. Do you think they’ll let me put my flag on a T-rex?”
“I doubt it,” Erik said, looking around as the large square room quickly began to fill with people who had signed up and been chosen to compete in the beta tournament. The premiere of E.L.E., The Dinosaur Evolution Battle Royale, running on the most advanced virtual reality tech ever created.
Erik looked at his wrist, and his HUD displayed the time. 15 minutes till noon, when the tournament was scheduled to start. He let his arm fall back to his side, and the time vanished off his HUD, only to realize a small circle had formed around them. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. A mish-mash of players' avatars were pointing at Sarah, talking with their hands over their mouths. More than a matter of directing sound, the gesture actually muted the speaker for anyone but the person to whom they were whispering. So despite the dense crowd of people staring at them and talking with their friends, it was eerily silent.
“I see gaming with Sarah is going to be even more obnoxious than before,” Marcus said, shaking his head.
“You’re one to talk,” she shot back, which was not an unmerited criticism, Erik thought silently. Marcus could not be called subtle and had no business accusing anyone else of being obnoxious.
“Well, yeah, but I’m from Texas,” he said, thickening his accent and grinning lazily. The tip of his cigar glowed brightly as he took a deep pull, a cloud of smoke billowing out of his mouth. Erik shook his head and jumped in before they could get to bickering properly.
“Thankfully, we’re going to be anonymous within the game itself,” he said. “Sarah would be public enemy number one.”
“She does have that effect on people,” Marcus said with a snicker. Sarah didn’t answer, instead crossing her arms and adopting a bored expression. Good-natured ribbing had always been their way, but Marcus’ remarks had an edge to them now that hadn’t been there before.
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Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
Erik thought, trying to crush down the anxiety, not just at his best friends' inability to get along, but at the prospect of the tournament itself. At first, he’d been confident that they had a real shot; after all, it wasn’t so long ago that they had all been contenders for the Battle Arena pro scene. Now, he was afraid that their disharmony could spoil their teamwork. If that happened, and they were eliminated from this tournament, that would be it. He’d never get his friends back. He knew the odds were long to begin with. If it wasn’t for the fact he was dying, Sarah and Marcus never would have agreed to play together again. They were both here for him, but because they pitied him. Because they would’ve felt guilty otherwise.
Calm down and focus.
Erik took a slow, virtual breath. He looked at his wrist again. 5 minutes until the event started. He rubbed at his chest, a nervous gesture, when suddenly a notice popped up on his HUD, and judging by the way everyone stopped at the same time, eyes unfocused, he wasn’t the only one.
Welcome Player to the Premier of E.L.E Online. The tournament is about to start, and we at Sauropod Studios want to take a moment before we begin to thank you for your participation. We look forward to seeing you all in prehistoric action!
-The Dev Team
“Well, that’s nice,” Marcus said as his hand made a dismissive gesture before he cleared the message off his HUD. “Those are the sort of manners you like to see.”
Erik waved his own notification away and glanced over at Sarah, who was tapping through her display, fingers flying over an interface only she could see. Then at the center of the lobby, a man appeared, taller than any human had ever been. By at least 3 meters, he towered over everyone, his iridescent blue skin visually at odds with his khaki shorts, shirt, and hat.
“Greetings, contenders!” he said, holding his hands wide as he pivoted, taking in the entire lobby, which had become quite crowded. “Welcome to the first ever E.L.E. Online Battle Royale tournament. We at Sauropod Studios are proud to be part of this historic moment. E.L.E. is the first game to take full advantage of the Dyson Pod’s landmark time dilation technology.” His hands fell to his sides, but the larger-than-life avatar continued to grin brightly at them. “You will experience 30 in-game days. That’s 30 twenty-four-hour days of gameplay, while for everyone outside, the tournament will be over in approximately 32 minutes.”
“They’re really pushing the tech,” Sarah whispered from Erik’s right, her rabbit face turned down in concern.
“Don’t be a baby,” Marcus said from Erik’s other side, and Erik saw her eyebrows drop into a V as her temper flared.
“It’ll be okay,” he said soothingly before she had a chance to fire back at Marcus. He really didn’t need his teammates dissolving into a squabbling mess before the tournament even started. He knew if they went into this doubting each other, it would undermine their chances, but in the moment, he didn’t know what to say to help mend the rift between his friends. So instead, he tried to assuage Sarah’s fears.
“It’s been safety tested extensively,” he assured her. “I’ve been following the trials for years.”
“Now, everyone who signed up to participate was sent an info packet on how this works, but just to make sure we’re all up to speed, I’ll be reiterating some of the more relevant sections,” the alien safari guide continued, his voice rising above the chatter that had broken out throughout the lobby. He paced slowly across the center of the room, making eye contact with various contestants, his iridescent skin catching the light as he moved. “First, each game day will have two parts. The first part is what we’re calling Days, though don’t be confused. Days represent 16 hours of your 24: 6 hours of daylight, 2 hours of twilight, and 6 hours of nighttime.”
He paused for a moment, a holographic display materializing beside him to illustrate his point. It displayed a sun and moon circling a virtual planet, clearly demarcating the game's day and night cycles. The guide gestured towards the display, then continued speaking.
“At the end of your 16 hours, you’ll enter the Night phase of the game, where you will be removed from your Dinosaur avatars and placed in a virtual location we call The Hub. You’ll learn more about The Hub after you finish your first day or after you’re eliminated, whichever comes first.” The guide took a few steps forward, his hands clasped behind his back, and looked around the room with a friendly gaze, ensuring he had the attention of all the players.
“Which brings me to my second point. Because of the way syncing works in time dilation, all participants must remain linked to E.L.E. online for the full tournament duration. So when you’re eliminated, you’ll be placed in The Hub for the remainder of the tournament. Is everyone following along so far?”
Erik knew all this already, having read the info packet that was sent to him as part of qualifying for the beta tournament, but it seemed he was in the minority. Many of the players around them were having whispered conversations with their teammates, and some of them seemed unhappy, judging from their expressions. Most were using the hand-over-mouth whisper feature. The guide seemed oblivious to all of this, pressing on, and what he had to say next very thoroughly silenced anyone who might’ve been upset to learn they’d be stuck in the game for a month, win or lose.
“Now, let’s talk about prizes. We know you all received a prize list as part of the info packet. What we didn’t tell you was that those totals were only an estimate. Thanks to some significant donations and a few very successful auctions, we have secured a much larger prize pool than we initially anticipated.”
“Auctions?” Marcus whispered to Erik, confused.
“They auctioned off some beta spots,” he told Marcus, nodding at the people around them. “3 teams’ worth, so 9 people.”
“How much did they get?” Sarah asked, her voice quiet.
“No idea,” Erik said with a shrug. “The auctions were closed. No figures were released as far as I know.” Everyone fell silent as giant red text appeared on a giant four-paneled screen that looked like a slowly rotating cube, with their alien safari guide standing inside it.
1st Place: $5,000,000
2nd Place: $1,500,000
3rd Place: $500,000
4th to 10th Place: $100,000
Total silence followed as the screen made one rotation and then a long voice somewhere in the crowd of players spoke.
“No way.”
The spell was broken, and everyone began talking. So many people spoke so quickly, with such intensity that it sounded to Erik like the buzzing of a thousand angry bees.
“They can’t be serious,” Sarah said, her eyes still on the board. “That’s insane. I’ve never seen those kinds of tournament winnings before.” Erik had to agree. According to the info packet, the 4th through 10th place prize of $100,000 had been the grand prize originally. The auctions for spots must have been something truly extraordinary for them to change this much. He was having a hard time organizing his thoughts. The competition had already promised to be intense, but now? This tournament was going to be pure insanity.
“Battle Arena is gonna be so dead after these numbers get out,” Marcus said with a chuckle. “E.L.E. is the future of e-sports. Maybe you’ll have to retire, eh, Sarah?” There was no mistaking this for good-natured banter either, the bitterness in Marcus’s tone too evident. Luckily, before Sarah could retort, the large rotating screen faded away, and the guide began to speak once more.
“Truly astonishing, and I can see you’re all excited to begin,” the guide said, clapping his hands. “There are 3,333 teams composed of 9,999 players, so you have your work cut out to be one of the last 10 teams standing. That wraps up the official announcement, and just in time.” He pointed to a timer counting down from 15 seconds. “It looks like we’re ready to begin. You’ll be placed in selection, and your team will spawn together on the game map's perimeter. Locations will be random. Good luck and have fun!”
With that, the guide vanished. The timer swelled to fill the center of the room as the last seconds ticked down.
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