Lightforge was wandering the streets of Chancery Hills as late afternoon shadows made hidden places all around him. He was lost in thought, thinking of the criminal that he’d brutalized. He should have been paying attention. He didn’t hear the scuffling of feet on the concrete until mere moments before something slammed him across the back of his shoulders and sent him tumbling to the ground, where he rolled into a nearby alley.
He fell in a heap as pain rifled through him. Head swimming, he waved a hand toward his unseen attacker, trying to construct a shield between them. The light was beginning to coalesce when a bolt of energy struck him from a different angle and shattered his concentration.
Lightforge was thrown against the opposite wall of the alley where he crumpled to the ground. More blasts hit him, and his HP bar flashed in the corner of his vision, almost halfway depleted. From his new vantage point he could see that there were three assailants arrayed around him. Each exuded the telltale red glow of a villain. The leader had silvery energy crackling between his fingers as he glared down at Lightforge.
"Now now," the blaster said, "None of that now. The more you struggle, the rougher this is gonna be on you."
Before Lightforge could think of a response, a haze fell between them, and the thugs' eyes lost their focus for a moment. And then they began to advance again, but off at an angle as if they’d lost track of him. They began attacking the empty air a few feet away.
He stared in shock at the sight. It only took a moment for him to dismiss questions of why and focus on what he needed to do now. He mentally called up the menu, racing through the screens until he saw the “Tools” options. Specifically, the distress call.
Whatever confusion had taken hold of his enemies was already gone. Their confusion quickly gave way to anger, and the group turned on him. Energy surrounded the leader’s fists, casting rough shadows that only heightened the rage on his face.
Lightforge didn’t bother with a finger; he fully punched the button with all the force that he could manage.
Sirens and red flashing lights roared to life up and down the street. The notification didn’t pop up to be read like all the others, but was screamed from all around in a voice that was impossible to ignore.
“ALERT: HERO UNDER ATTACK! ALERT, HERO UNDER ATTACK!”
Every crime scene that Lightforge had witnessed so far had been met by at least a half dozen heroes. They all paled in comparison to this. At least two dozen brightly colored figures came sprinting out from behind every corner, hurtling down the street towards him with frightening speed. At that moment, he was just like any other victim.
Not one of the masked faces gave him so much as a single glance as they passed by. All eyes were locked on the now fleeing villains who’d attacked him. Attacks of all kinds flew just over his head and he was nearly trampled as the crowd surged past him in hot pursuit. That’s when it hit him. In that moment, at his most desperate, he’d become an NPC. He was seeing this world through the eyes of the people who had already been here.
He didn’t like what he saw. If not for the blue surrounding each of them, there would have been no way to tell that they’d been heroes at all. They may as well have been a rival gang fighting in the streets.
Pushing the thoughts away, he realized that he was alone on the street. He picked himself up, carefully checking for any obvious wounds, but found none. Of course not. Instead, there was just the flashing HP gauge showing that he was down to around 40% of his maximum.
Reflexively, his mind shot back to the revival tank. The sensation of dying had been anything but pleasant. In fact, he could think of few things in the world that he wanted less than to wind up back in that tank.
He breathed a sigh of relief that the distress call had worked at all. There were strict limitations on it; it wasn’t a get out of jail free card. You had to be in a reasonably public place, at less than 50% health, and not actively targeted by any hostile abilities.
If anything else happened, he probably wouldn’t be so lucky again. Making up his mind, he turned and ran towards his base at full speed.
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The trip back to his base’s entrance was blissfully quiet and uneventful. He hadn’t so much as seen a single other player on the run, though he also hadn’t been looking. When he was a few blocks out, he slowed his progress to a crawl. After his ordeal, he was acutely aware of the fact that his base was only a couple blocks away from Decker Row. He was going to be right on the villains' doorstep.
So he crept forward slowly, checking in all directions for traps. Or worse, another gang of villains just waiting to capture him. He climbed a nearby fire escape to a roof and checked all around again. While there were people in the streets below him, none had the glow of other players, so there shouldn't be any danger. At least in theory.
He dropped to the ground and hurried down the alley, opening up the gateway to his base as soon as the system allowed. Once inside, he would be untouchable to hostile forces. No one could come or go without his permission. He could rest and recover.
Just as he was about to step through the doorway, a feminine voice called out from behind him. Light and cheery, the voice sounded amused.
“If you're really that paranoid,” the voice said, “Then I’d suggest coming right back out as soon as you can grab your Gate Controller.”
Weapons materialized in Lightforge’s hands as he turned to look for whoever had spoken. He found her sitting on the fire escape that he’d just dropped from. When had she gotten there? It would have been impossible to miss her with the way he'd come down.
She was lithe and slender like a gymnast, sitting casually on the edge of the fire escape, feet dangling in the air. She wore a spandex outfit that covered every inch of her below the neck, done up with swirls of blue and purple. Her mask covered the top half of her face, but left her long, dark hair free to dance in the breeze behind her. She was watching him with a mischievous glint in her eye and a smirk dancing across her lips.
He made no move to put down his weapons, instead simply glaring at her, tense and on the edge of pouncing. If she noticed, she feigned ignorance, watching him with curious amusement.
"Who are you?" he growled.
"Who, little old me?" she replied, "I'm just the one who saved you."
His hands lowered, though he didn't dismiss his weapons yet.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"I threw off their aim with an illusion. As I said, I saved you."
He felt a slight wave of heat rising in his cheeks, but largely ignored it. That explained the haze that had come between him and his attackers, but he still had a lot of questions.
"Oh. Thanks, I guess. Did you catch them already? I would think you'd chase them along with everyone else?"
"I'm a villain, there's no point."
Lightforge flinched as he forced himself not to throw the knives in his hands. He let out a long breath and continued to watch the villainess, expecting her to continue. But instead she simply returned his gaze, meeting his eyes and silently daring him to ask the obvious question.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
He blinked first. He said, "Fine, I'll ask. Why?"
"Two reasons, actually. First, you seem different from a lot of the capes around here, which has me curious. And second, turnabout is only fair. You let me go without a fight the other day, so now we're even."
Let her go? He'd only stopped a handful of crimes so far, and none of them had featured a player at all, let alone an illusionist. It had just been the assault guy, some pickpockets, the purse snatcher, and…
And the first crime he'd tried to intervene in. He'd almost forgotten since it was overshadowed in his mind by his own death that had immediately followed. A mugging where he’d been tricked into attacking the victim.
Rage bubbled under the surface, and Lightforge thought that he was containing it well. Then he opened his mouth and growled, "You made me hurt an innocent man."
He wasn't expecting the vitriol that he heard in his own voice, but he wasn't going to stop it, either. He was too angry. The villain didn't react, waving away his statement like an annoying fly.
"Oh, please," she said, "it's just an NPC. Who cares?"
The knives shot through the air quicker than thought. Lightforge's hands trembled as he struggled to contain the emotion that was welling up inside. His health was still below half; this would be a terrible time to get into a fight. That wasn't about to stop him at this point.
The woman didn’t move as the weapons hurtled towards her. They passed right through her and embedded themselves in the building behind her. She blurred for a moment before coming back into focus, now sitting a few feet to one side. The mischievous glint in her eye had blazed into a fire and she was giggling.
He immediately dismissed the daggers and summoned new ones. As they appeared in his hands, the villain raised her arms over her head. "I give up. No need to keep being nasty."
"Prove it. Come down here and let me take you in."
"Ooh, you want me in your base? Tempting."
She looked him up and down slowly and licked her lips. Lightforge felt a sudden need to shower, but he stood firm. At least at first. With each passing second, it became harder to ignore the intense study that she was directing at him.
Finally she said, "I'm gonna have to pass for now. But you do have me intrigued, I'll admit that much."
"That's not what I was saying, and you know it."
"Maybe so, maybe so. That isn't the part of you that piqued my interest anyway. You literally died to protect an NPC, letting me go in the process. Then you managed not to die when you did it again. And you’ve shown some serious rage over NPCs getting mistreated."
"In case you haven't noticed, people around here aren't exactly following the script anymore."
"Oh, I noticed. And I find it fascinating that we’re both in that rather exclusive club."
"So what? You were testing me?"
"Messing with you, mostly. But yeah, also testing. Oh, and you can call me Circe."
"Circe? Sounds like you've taken to the name so far."
"It works well enough for my needs. And you? What did you get stuck with?"
"Lightforge."
"Well, it's descriptive I suppose."
She turned her head slightly, gesturing to where his knives had hit the wall behind her. She chuckled again and casually flipped off the fire escape, falling gracefully to the ground below. She crossed the short distance between them, and she was taller than he'd expected. The mirth slipped off her features and was momentarily replaced with dead seriousness.
"I wasn't kidding earlier," she said, "You should get your Gate Controller and move the entrance to your base. If you’re dead set on being a cape, then this area isn’t for you."
"Even if you lead them here, none of you can hurt me inside my base."
"Don't be a dick. They couldn’t hurt you inside, that’s true. But they could kill you every time you step outside.”
Lightforge fought back a retort, letting the words sink in. Then he swallowed hard. It would work. Doing things like that was a good way to have admins ban you in short order, but that had been when this was just a game. If such threats didn’t exist here, then it would work. He could easily become some villain’s personal XP farm.
He sighed and stepped through the portal just long enough to grab the silvery remote control that was hanging just inside. He pulled it back into the alleyway and the gate immediately snapped shut.
The Gate Controller, as Circe said, would let him move the entrance to his base. It only worked in certain public areas, the process took a full minute and would halt if any enemy came near you. Not much use for spying or escaping a sticky situation. It just gave you the option to move to different parts of the city if you wanted to.
Lightforge sighed as he took a look around the alleyway. Only a couple of days had passed, but the area had already started to feel… familiar. Not comfortable necessarily, but perhaps the closest that he would find. And now he was abandoning it, running away from danger like a spooked rabbit.
Circe took note of his somber review, but she said nothing. He was grateful for that; he didn't need any additional grief just yet. He turned to face her and she gave him a grin. Not the mischievous smirk that she'd shown so far, but a kind and understanding grin instead.
She'd been through the same thing at some point. He was sure of that much.
"So," he began, "Any suggestions where I set up shop?"
She raised an eyebrow at him and said, "That’s quite the turnaround. I’m shocked you’d take advice from a villain."
"Oh, I wouldn't. I was just curious."
"Of course. I don’t think you can go wrong anywhere but here."
"Fair enough. Should I catch you now, or are you going to run?"
"Try again. No arrest without a crime in progress."
"You already confessed."
"Did I? I don’t remember anything of the sort. Without a warrant, you’ve got nothing."
"You're a villain. Your profile is enough to get you locked up for the night."
"You assume. But you haven’t seen it."
Lightforge threw up his hands and turned to walk away. She was right, and he knew it. Ultimately, this conversation was a waste of time. The attack had shown him just how important it was to get stronger. Chatting with a villain who wasn't on their way to jail wasn't going to help him do that.
Before he reached the end of the alley, Circe called out to him, "Hey, Lightforge, one more thing."
"What now?"
“Why are you fighting crime? I’d set up shop and start selling Gadgeteer services if I had your powers.”
To be honest, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Would that even work? And if it did, wouldn’t it be slow? He started walking as he thought about the idea. Gadgeteer was one of a few powers that opened up alternate leveling paths, but most never bothered. It was always too slow and too boring. Of course, it was also safe. With his actual life on the line now, that might just be more important.
There was also the simple fact that he had no idea how to run a player-owned shop. He pulled up his menu and flipped through screens until he found his inventory. Unsurprisingly, it was still empty. At the bottom was a currency counter, showing that he currently held 150 Hero Bux. Early in development the game had used dollars, but it had been confusing to differentiate what could be bought with real money and what couldn’t.
Circe walked beside him as he turned onto the street, picking a direction at random. She was staring at him as he thought, letting her unblinking gaze do the talking for her. She didn't intend to interrupt him, but she wasn't going anywhere until he'd answered her.
Eventually he shrugged and said, “I don’t know, honestly. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have enough money for a storefront. Last I checked, the cheapest ones are at least 1200 Bux. And those are in some truly [BLEEP] parts of town.”
“For example, an area right next to a lawless, abandoned area that’s been fully given over to the bad guys?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
He looked around Chancery Hills again. This area wasn’t exactly abandoned, but it was definitely unpopular. He could probably find some bottom barrel prices in a place like this. It was certainly intriguing, to say the least.
Circe must have seen the wheels turning in his head, because her smirk was back as she said, “I’ll even loan you the money to get started.”
He froze in place, glaring at her suspiciously. “What’s the catch?” he asked.
“None. I need a place to get equipment.”
“Hard pass. I’m a hero, remember?”
“This world isn’t a game anymore, remember? Lots more gray.”
He thought about it for a long time. She wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t about to agree with her either. He decided to split the difference and just shrugged.
“I’ll think about it. No promises, but I might take you up on that offer.”
She grinned in a decent imitation of the Cheshire Cat. The similarity only became stronger when a dark haze kicked up all around her, obscuring her features from sight. From the darkness, her voice came as a whisper, soft but crystal clear.
"Perfect," she said, "I'll be watching."
The dark mist vanished, and she was gone.