Chapter 5: Threads

What did I expect to happen?

Burning wings to erupt from Lena’s back? A dress of fire, ringlets of flame for hair? Her avatar enfleshed, imperious, awesome, beautiful beyond sanity?

Or for her to catch fire for real, suffer spontaneous human combustion?

What actually happened?

The amulet hung down from her skinny neck, rested on her chest. The only thing burning on her was the meme on her shirt, a dog at a bar on fire, proclaiming it fine.

We both exhaled. Relieved.

Disappointed?

Well, maybe.

“So.” Lena ran her finger around the gem. She kept doing it, silently, until whatever point she’d been about to make faded.

I didn’t know how to break the silence either.

It came as another relief when the corners of her mouth quirked up. She tapped the amulet. “If you ignore – everything –, it’s a cool signup bonus. Do you wish you’d gotten physical?”

“Not really,” I said. “If it ends up being useful in game, you’ll be stuck with heavy costume jewelry just to equal my functionality.”

Her expression turned venomous. Thankfully, she fixed her glare on the amulet, not me. She gave it another tap, speculative. “I bet I could Ebay this for some serious cash.”

“Ah, resale value.” I shook my head. “The last argument of physical media enjoyers.”

“It’s either that or violence.”

“No, that’s kings.”

“Just sayin’.” She hefted the amulet. “It’d hurt like a bitch if you walloped somebody upside the head with this thing.”

“True.” I scratched the back of my head. “It’s heavy as hell. Honestly, it doesn’t feel like costume jewelry.”

“It being real jewelry is the least crazy thing about it,” Lena said, “which is saying something.”

“We need...” I waved my hands. What the fuck did we need?

“We need to check the subreddit,” Lena said.

Which is the sort of thing addicts say, not people who genuinely need something.

I said, “Yeah.”

We left the brown paper packaging on the floor and returned to our PCs. I still had r/thirdeyegame up from when I’d wondered if the app was a virus. I scanned the top threads.

I didn’t have to scan long.

Four down, below the pinned thread about the beta launch, one for Screenshots – which would be interesting in its own right, but for now I needed to focus –, and one for login problems, someone had posted ‘Physical Bonus LOL’.

The first post showed a pic of someone’s phone screen, displaying the choice between physical and digital bonuses. It had twelve upvotes, which seemed like a lot for a subreddit that had been abandoned years ago when it became obvious the game would be vaporware.

The top comment, with two hundred and seven upvotes, was a selfie. The poster, ShakeProtocol, must have had Third Eye turned off, because there was no costume, no special effects, just a smiling guy in a gray wife-beater and skinny jeans, looking like a KPop star or at least one’s stunt double, way too trim and muscular for somebody who invested in the AR-ARG’s Kickstarter –

“There’s a guy doesn’t need any help,” Lena said, so she’d clearly visited the same thread.

– and, hanging from the corded muscles of his neck, an amulet like Lena’s. Brown paper wrapping like hers lay crumpled on the coffee table beside him, the return address visible.

Comments in his thread started with a chorus of ‘wtf’s and some ‘nice Photoshop’s, including from the thread starter.

Those had been downvoted after ShakeProtocol posted more.

Shots of the amulet, on and off his body, from more angles than he could have practically doctored since the beta went live. One of himself wearing it with Third Eye turned on, proving it wasn’t part of an unusually understated avatar. With the app active, his outfit resembled mine, but colored brown and gold, sleeveless and low-cut in a way he wore a lot better than I would have. In street clothes he made me jealous; in this he made me question my sexuality. He finished with a text post explaining how he’d found the amulet on his doorstep.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Now the top comments under his were five other people who’d clicked ‘Physical’ for the lulz and were no longer laughing.

I posted, ‘What tier did you all back at?’

I couldn’t expect an immediate answer – it was a subreddit, not a chat room, the thread had gotten pretty damn busy, and most people who spent more than the minimum on the Third Eye Kickstarter probably still didn’t want to admit it – so I checked some of the screenshots.

Most of the users who posted wore tunic and short-cape combos like ShakeProtocol and I. The basics of the outfit stayed the same, but each looked unique. I saw fringes, ponchos, robes. Long sleeves, short sleeves, no sleeves. Hoods, hats. I glared at the lucky pair who’d snagged big floppy wizard hats.

Everyone looked amazing. Not necessarily gorgeous. Some people didn’t have that in them, and Third Eye didn’t overwrite their faces and bodies. But amazing. Their best. We’d talked about hair and cloth physics, but I thought the app might be doing some kind of filters to stand in for makeup, too. Like I’d thought about Lena, these redditors looked like the Hollywood versions of themselves.

Nobody else wore anything like she had, though. The big money backers either hadn’t submitted such ambitious designs, or had decided to keep their status secret.

Just when I thought I might grow numb to how good the graphics were, I caught a link to a TikTok from a poster named LikeItsNinetyNine. She must’ve given her phone to someone else in her house so she could dance on camera. If I’d seen her on the street I’d have thought, kinda cute, kinda plump, little old for me. Through Third Eye, of course, she looked like a nature goddess. Her dance went long on enthusiasm, but holy shit did the graphics keep up with it. Her cape, green with complex textures like overlapping vines, whirled as she spun. Tassels on her shirt bounced as she jumped.

From the number of upvotes I saw, dozens of people were posting on the subreddit and at least three hundred were reading it. More would’ve signed up with their beta codes without checking into the community, though probably not as many as if it weren’t an ARG.

Third Eye’s graphics still showed no sign of slowdown.

I tabbed back to the ‘Physical Bonus LOL’ thread.

ShakeProtocol had answered me. ‘Apprentice’

Same tier as me. ‘So it’s not a backer reward? That’s nuts.’

It hadn’t made sense for the physical signup bonus to have been tied to Lena’s $5,000 splurge. If Kickstarters never delivered the physical rewards they promised, what were the chances of them tacking extras on beyond what they were supposed to be obligated to hand out?

Nothing about Third Eye made sense, though, so I hadn’t been willing to rule it out.

Now, I had confirmation to go with my suspicion.

When I refreshed the page, I found two other people had answered the same. ShakeProtocol added, ‘Whole thing is wack’

‘Anybody see their amulet delivered?’ Ashbird asked. I recognized Lena’s username. I upvoted her.

“Good question,” I said, and posted.

“Gotta be drones, right?” she said.

“But all over the country?” Actually, that made me wonder. ‘Are you all in NA?’

No response when I refreshed the page, so I tabbed back to screenshots to admire the graphics and wait. ShakeProtocol posted a TikTok. He’d propped his phone on a table and taken his amulet on and off, once with Third Eye active and once without.

No way he’d faked it, and people were starting to realize it. Comments flooded in, but the back-and-forth was a mess.

We really needed to get a Discord server running. I tabbed back to ‘Physical Bonus LOL,’ but while I waited for new messages to appear, I searched Third Eye on the messenger app.

“Huh,” I said. “There’s an official Discord server now.”

“They didn’t used to have one?”

“I’d swear I didn’t see it this afternoon. Wonder if it’s really official.” It claimed to be, but, because it was fake or because it was new or because Third Eye Productions had produced all of zilch before the beta launch today, it hadn’t yet received the imprimatur of a green checkmark from Discord.

Abruptly, Lena snorted. “Oh, this has got to be fake.”

“Why? They’ve obviously spent millions and you don’t think they’d spring for an official Discord?”

“Forget the server for a minute. Refresh the thread.”

I switched windows and did so. Immediately, I saw what had set her off.

Nobody who responded had seen their deliveries, but one poster, Nisshoku, had answered my question about being in NA. ‘No, I am in Osaka.’ They’d attached a picture of their amulet.

“If that’s true,” I said, “Third Eye would have to have distribution centers all over the world. Every major city. Maybe more.”

“This dude is probably just a huge weeb.”

“You’re suggesting someone would lie on the internet? Madness.” I chewed my lip. “But Osaka, not Tokyo? That’s a weird detail.”

“Gotta be something set there,” Lena said. “A huge weeb who plays a lot of Yakuza games, maybe?”

Her scenario made more sense than Third Eye shipping all over the world. Except: “Refresh again,” I said.

A user called TakeThePen had posted a photo, their amulet on a windowsill. The London Eye loomed over the background.

Photos weren’t proof of anything, not anymore. A great digital artist could probably have Photoshopped the amulet there in the five minutes since I asked where they’d posted from. Especially with a window to act as a dividing line between the images.

I didn’t believe the photo was fake.

I spun my chair and faced Lena.

She took a long time turning. Her hand hovered over her amulet, fingers trembling, like she thought she’d get burned if she touched it.

She grabbed it and forced out a smile. “Where are we on the scale now?”

I considered. They’d have known where all the backers lived. They’d had six years to prepare. They had, somehow, seemingly infinite money to burn.

“Technically?” I said. “Still crazy.”

I wondered how much more I could accept without settling on “Impossible.”