PROLOGUE

2037

For the past twenty years, digital realism and the immersive qualities of video games have grown tremendously. VR, or Virtual Reality, headsets expanded from players having to move the physical body to interact with a less-than-real world to truly connecting with the mind. Players can actually lie down in their beds and be completely transported. One can experience all the sensations of the physical world without any of the dangers. Players who are particularly good at the new gaming style can quickly rise up in stardom like any athlete.

***

John mopped the front entrance of the middle school while listening to the Video Game Informant podcast over his headphones. The twenty-five-year-old, slightly balding janitor didn’t care about much in life, but video games were his one true joy. Not that he was any good at them. The best he’d ever done was win a couple of local tournaments, which had amounted to a grand total of $70 and a new wireless mouse. It was not something he could rely on as a sole source of income.

There was this new game though, called Kingdoms & Valor. It was a VRMMORPG (or Virtual-Reality Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game) in a fantasy-based world. And it required the newest virtual reality headset, with which players could experience almost everything! All five senses would be engaged, so people could feel like they were living a brand-new life in a magical world where mysteries waited to be discovered! It was a gamer’s dream! John had been saving up to buy the headset and game since he’d learned about it eight months ago.

Truly, all he ever bought were movies, books, and games. He was a particular fan of the classics and a variety of older series. Most were classified as “nerdy,” like Starfighter Foxy 64, but they were what interested him. It was not like he had much else to spend it on. He had no family, and the only friends he had were online. He didn’t care about anything else. Nothing really motivated him. John did not believe he had any purpose at all, actually.

John’s musings were interrupted by laughter loud enough to be heard over his headphones. He looked down the hallway and saw two teen boys scoffing and laughing at a girl as the trio walked in his direction. There were always a few stragglers after the initial end-of-day wave of students leaving school. The two boys had short hair. One was skinny, and the other…not so much. The girl had long, straight black hair and carried a bedazzled pink backpack. She was unhealthily thin, and her skin had an abnormal yellow tinge. John knew immediately who she was. She was Becky. He did not know her personally, just that she was very sick. There had been posters throughout the school advertising a fundraiser for her treatment. She did not acknowledge the teasing boys as she focused straight ahead, looking out the glass door and watching for her mom’s car to pull up. Her stern look and increasingly red cheeks betrayed the anger she was holding in.

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“Ha ha! Look at the sick girl’s car!” the nasally-sounding chubby boy said while pointing at a very rusted vehicle struggling across the parking lot toward the front doors.

“Stop it!” she yelled at them, tears swelling in her eyes. “We can’t afford a new car because my medicine is so expensive!”

The portly bully continued undeterred. “Aww, the sick girl is crying. Maybe if your parents had adopted a normal kid instead of you, they would have a nice car and wouldn’t have to deal with such a sick crybaby!”

John dropped his mop and sprinted toward them. “Hey, you punks get out of here!” he said, waving his arms to shoo them on toward the school entryway.

The two boys ran out the doors, laughing the whole way.

John turned back to the girl. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes, then looked up and nodded.

“Good. Now, I might get in trouble for saying this, but those boys were acting like straight douche-canoes.”

Becky laughed, and her red face returned to its usual yellow tinge.

John smiled as he walked with her toward the doors.

Before anything else was said, a car horn honked twice from outside. Becky’s mom’s car had made it to the front of the school.

“Thank you, sir,” the thin girl said before running out to the car.

John’s mood turned bittersweet as he watched the girl wrestle the car door open and climb in.

I wish I could help her.

***

The hooded figure leaned over the enchanted well. His skeletal hands grasped the edges firmly as curiosity overtook him. Knowing his time was limited, he was desperate to find his champion. Searching through the alternate universe of possibilities in the well, the figure considered desirable attributes. The person must be a warrior, a competent leader, loyal, and like himself, familiar with death. In a world without magic, though, it had not been easy. The figure did find an avenue, fortunately, through the humans’ technology. It had shown them a way to interact with the basics of magical power. He searched frantically against the clock to locate the person. He wanted—no, he needed—the best. Then he found him. His champion!

“Yes!” the hooded figure said in his haunted tone of voice. “Hahahaha! Yes!” he cackled maniacally, lifting his arms in the air and clinching his fists in celebration.

The only other noise accompanying his laughter was the sound of his chains dragging on stone and clanging against each other, echoing inside his dark prison. Though he knew the end was near, he had found a way to have his vengeance. He would be free.