SAVE POINT 89
Loading Multiplayer Mode & a Very Helpful System...55.55%
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1131588848414097428/9af05737-9f8a-4228-9593-eb937510c1b7.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1131588288982044702/ab43178f-c5b7-4385-bad6-52ccf1ed695b.png]
EmeraldCity_88
One minute, all is going completely well—I've ensnared the three troublesome ones in a circle, caught in the swirling darkness of the smoke hounds and I'm about to get the dragons back—and the next minute?
Beep.
What in the name of all fuckery is this?
***Welcome [SYSTEM ERROR, NO RETRIEVABLE TITLE FOUND] EMERALDCITY_88 to Multiplayer Mode***
MISSION: Capture the Flag
The Game banners fizzle out of view, replaced by a very white room.
And I'm standing in a white jumpsuit, not my normal clothes.
Of all the days for this shit to happen. Today is not a great day to be involved in children's games. ...Or is it? I breathe deeply, trying to reset my balance. I ponder this new perspective. What if today is the perfect moment for whatever this is, and I just don't know it yet? It'd never been my intent to dive head-first into a video game when I came across the chat room that had led me here. Everything had just...worked out. And, now, I've found Skipper again. Perhaps this too could be a blessing in disguise. I'll take it.
"System, tell me what happens if I complete the mission objective?" I bark, hoping this works like a VR video game or something.
[...System processing request...]
The Game loads slowly, circling. Guess I'm not the only one who hasn't had my coffee this morning...
[Answer Found. If EmeraldCity_88 acquires the flag, her deepest will will be activated in The Game. Currently, her deepest will is for GAMER AMMAT to transform into the essence of her deceased sister from Earth, Skipper.]
My heart leaps—skitters. My breath catches.
Oh my Gods. Seriously?! I could have my real sister back—my little sis? For real?
I grit my teeth together. I am definitely playing. That's one hell of a prize. Perhaps I am being blessed after all. I knew I was lucky.
I smooth the flyaways of my green hair from where they've spilled out of my pigtails framing my cheeks. I'll need to focus now. Skipper, here I come, I think to myself, as I press a glowing, neon dot in the air.
Except it's lame; I see that right away. Even freaking Ray Charles could see that shit.
***Select Your Surroundings***
Really?! I get all psyched up about how Skipper is on the line and everything and the next step is this? Decorating this room? ...I guess it is kinda white... My eyes roll around the spotless corners. I doubt there's even a cobweb there.
...But you kind of have to do what the system wants you to. I huff, scrolling through the boring-ass options; if I choose any of them, all my hair will 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're made out of. They all look like pristine, hotel lobbies or rooms: 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 a year ago. How snooze-fest can you get? I'm not even sure I want this if it's free; it's that bad.
Wait...the system is supposed to be helpful, right? Let's hope the manual commands work again.
"System," I call, "Spice up my options...a lot. Show me some gothic, steampunk or green inspired ones...something fucking interesting."
[...System processing request...]
And, to my slow appreciation, the thing does it—it generates new room options. A smile slides up my lips as I swipe through the new list. Damn, these are good. We have 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've ever played. Way to go, system.
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1131588468162695188/0cccc1c1-8ab8-45fa-a51f-a32d2bb58496.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1131588469769125949/4c017a11-b8a9-4080-912c-49f0e4bbd966.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1131588470117257256/82cf3b35-b53a-4d22-adea-6214039ccb90.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1131588469362266152/caafa7c8-44d3-40f0-af5c-92757d445245.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1131588468968018020/f4bdd516-1302-4fb3-a7e6-db099c093d0e.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1131588468598915092/badd6e56-817c-48dd-a548-9bd4c14a901a.png]
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I hover over the last one, selecting it—I mean, hello neon green!—and the room transforms around me.
Dark, dark and darker—just how I like it. Who knew a little bit of inspiration would be such a big boost to going into this thing?
I look around. The room has luxury written all over it...and green—obviously, green. An emerald, velvet couch lies waiting for me behind a green-marble coffee table. A drink bar—also emerald in color—is decorated with ornate, gold trim along the top and waiting for my every alcoholic desire.
But back to business... I glance at the next prompt on the screen:
***Choose Your Avatar***
'Well, this should be easy,' I think as I swipe hurriedly through the list; I don't want any of these morons...
There. There I am.
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1131588287312691200/Atherall_31.jpg]
I eye digital me up and down and like what I see. Yes, selected, epic. But another pop-up displays:
***Choose Your Team Members***
Ew, team members, ick. I was kind of hoping to knock this one out solo. Anyways...
I flip through, selecting the biggest and baddest-looking brutes.
***Edit Team Members' Skill Level Manually?***
[YES / NO]
Hell yes; I am not playing with some low-level, base model knothead. I flip through the stats, increasing their damage ability, health and flipping all of their motivations to 'vengeance'. No one needs a nice guy to fuck this mission up. It's winner take all at all costs. And I will stand the winner after this with Skipper back by my side. Finally.
The thought of it fills me with more warmth than I expect. Damn, I love my little sis. I remember 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 remember her giggle. I remember that 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 have a chance to have more than just a piece, and I don't care what the rules are, I will dominate this game. I will win. For her. For me—finally for me.
***A Coin Toss Has Determined You Choose The Level. Select A Level.***
More of this bullshit?
I don't even look. I'm done with options. I want action. I need to begin this challenge. The tension of it all gathers in my clenching fists. And I stab a finger at the screen, not caring which image that finger lands on.
[Fortress Selected]
Whatever.
I swipe the notice out of view before the next pops up, anticipating thrumming through my fingertips.
***Enter The Multiplayer Game?***
[YES / NO]
You bet.
I can't press 'yes' fast enough.
And the screen jumps to life. And there's me—well, the video-game, animated version of me. I stare at the back of my wispy, green hair and green-and-leather assassin outfit. Down a brick hallway, I see the flashing, green tag of a muscled teammate in a courtyard. And I've got a semi-automatic rifle in my hands as animated me shifts from foot to foot, holding it.
Time to rock this.
In real life, a controller appears, bobbing above my hands, and I snatch it out of limbo, dropping to the green-embroidered couch I created.
I get a grip on the movements first, walking forward, hearing my feet echo with each step on the brick floor. Now, this is cool. This is something I can get into. Find the flag. Duck the fire. And get my sister literally back. I'm all in.
I gallop forward, weaving quickly through the halls that all look the same, my finger tensed and ready on the fire button as the black weapon hovers in my view. My eyes efficiently scan brick room and hallway after brick room and hallway. A knife on the floor? Seriously? I want firepower. They think I'm going to trade my gun for a knife? I quickly dismiss any chance of that by buzzing right by it. I remember something about black magic abilities from when I selected my avatar. Guess I'll find out what that does later... What button would that even be? A combination of two buttons? I try a few before giving up. I've got shit to do.
An arch leads to the courtyard. I quickly duck under it, ratcheting my view upward to scan the arches overhead for enemies.
Maybe I'm paranoid, but I think I see two red tags darting above—
Bullets rain down on my head.
"Fuck!" I scream into the empty room, hearing my shout echo like the reminder of what this game means to me right now—being not alone. Having someone next to me again...someone in my corner who cares. Skipper. I'm going to win this.
I bite my lip, my fingers working over the controls. I race back to shelter. I whip around to return the fire.
And I blast those archways above, with a stream of pure hell, watching my ammo lower. But the red tags are gone.
"You little shits," I swear, breathing heavy and readjusting myself on the edge of the couch. Cautiously, I start down another hallway, looking for some sort of stairs.
Where the fuck are you, scumbats? And, more importantly...where is my flag?