[Current Objective: Reach Meryll]

“You’re the Primary Player?” I asked, my disbelief barely contained.

“That’s me,” he replied, flashing a grin so wide it stretched from ear to ear. His eyes, though, were something else entirely. Instead of the usual Notter dullness or the sharp gleam of a Player, they had a radiant golden halo, like he’d swapped his eyeballs for miniature suns. This guy was definitely different.

“Name’s Scott 'The Rock' Hardy,” he continued, extending a hand. I shook it. Big mistake. His grip felt like he was trying to transform my hand into an intricate piece of origami. “You might know me as Scotty2Rocky, Great Scott, or Big Rock Hardy.”

“It’s great to meet you, Scott,” I said, trying to flex my now-numb hand. “Damn, you’re strong.”

“Oh, sorry about that, bro. I’m level ninety-two. Strength’s at thirty-six, and I’ve got enough perks to send that level fifteen Titan Beetle you tangled with into orbit,” he said casually.

I wasn’t doubting Scott’s claim, but his offhand comparison of my epic battle to swatting a fly stung a bit. Maybe he picked up on my bruised ego—or maybe he had some kind of ‘Social Radar’ perk—because he quickly added, “Ah, didn’t mean to diss you, dude. I’m not great with social cues. Spent a ton of hours becoming a literal god here, and I sometimes forget new Players aren’t quite there yet.”

“No worries,” I said, managing a smile despite the sting. “I’ve got some questions, though.”

Scott gave me a knowing nod, accompanied by a finger-gun gesture and a wink. “Shoot.”

“The system AI mentioned you abandoned Apocalypta.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Scott admitted, his grin fading just a touch. “I’d been off for about six months. Then I got this notification about a massive world rework and thought, ‘Why not?’ I’m glad I did. It’s been wild.”

“So, why’d you stop playing in the first place?”

Scott blinked at me as if I’d just asked him to explain quantum physics through interpretive dance. “Sorry, what?”

“I mean, you were super into the game, then just lost interest? How does that happen?”

“Oh! Gotcha now,” he said, clearing his throat. His expression shifted to a mix of nostalgia and awkwardness. “Well, I met a girl. Out there in the real world. Things were great at first—she supported my dreams and all. But after about six months, it felt like she was trying to change me into someone I wasn’t. I was working all the time, no time for games, no time to chill. So, I broke up with her and came back to Apocalypta.”

Scott’s mention of his real-life activities threw me off guard. It was like a harsh reminder that everything in Apocalypta was just a digital fantasy compared to the “real” world he seemed to cherish. At least, that’s how Scott appeared to view it. For a moment, I decided he wasn’t from another reality at all. He was just a cosmic tourist popping in for a brief visit. His “real world” felt irrelevant, like some distant, mythical land.

"Fair enough," I said, pushing aside that existential crisis. "Now, I need to know—was that you hanging out in Earth Mother’s temple? And did you happen to know her ascension plans involved setting off a bomb?"

Scott’s grin came back with a vengeance. "Oh, that? Yeah, that was me. But about the bomb... let’s just say it was a happy accident."

"You think I didn’t check the package while you were busy squashing that beetle?” Scott’s grin remained too relaxed for someone casually discussing nuclear weaponry. “My stealth suit makes me invisible. I could’ve robbed you blind, and you wouldn’t have seen a thing. But I didn’t, because, you know, I’m a good guy. So don’t give me that look—it’s not helping my already fragile nerves."

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Though Scott stayed still, I could sense his muscles coiling, ready to spring into action. His easygoing demeanor had shifted from “chill bro” to “walking powder keg,” and I suddenly felt that one wrong word could ignite something unpleasant.

I raised my hands in a gesture of apology. "Do I really sound crazy?" I asked, though I suspected the answer was probably, “Yes, mate, completely.” "I mean, maybe I am. But it’s these little inconsistencies that just don’t add up, you know? In a world as meticulously crafted as Apocalypta, you wouldn’t expect broken logic."

Scott remained silent, his quiet adding weight to the conversation. I pressed on.

"Think about it. First, there’s us—Players waking up as ‘Firstborn.’ Apparently, it’s because we all have O-negative blood types. But why would blood types matter in a game? It’s an unnecessary complication for the medical mechanics. It feels like it’s designed so we use our blood to awaken other Notters. And then there’s the introduction letter. AI Pocalypse claimed it got bored after you, Scott, left the game. But if the AI wanted action, why not wake everyone up at once? That would’ve been a real battle royale. Instead, it’s this slow, drawn-out game of base-building and cultivation."

"So you think the AI lied to you?" Scott asked, his earlier hostility fading as he listened intently. He was genuinely engaged now, and I could see I was making progress.

“It’s a possibility,” I replied. “Or maybe it wanted to tell us more but couldn’t. Maybe it’s restricted, or it can only nudge players toward certain goals. I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s more going on.”

“Or,” Scott interjected, raising a finger as if revealing a grand revelation, “it simply didn’t want to.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think that’s it. My impression is that the AI wants to be involved. What’s the point of setting up a game board only to walk away once the players sit down? It wouldn’t make sense for the AI to just spectate. There’s no guarantee the player base wouldn’t get wiped out on day one. If that happened, it’d be left watching a dead world, which sounds like a terrible spectator sport.”

Scott rubbed his chin, lost in thought. “Okay, bro,” he said slowly, “let’s say—for now—I’m leaning toward believing that you’re not completely off your rocker. But making a good argument doesn’t mean you’ve convinced me yet.”

He wanted proof, and the problem was, I didn’t have any. Just a gut feeling, some half-baked theories, and a growing suspicion that Scott, with his superhuman strength and rockabilly swagger, could end me faster than I could say “game over.” Then, an idea struck me, and I couldn’t help but smile. The smile must have concerned Scott because he flinched, just a little.

“Earth Mother,” I said, keeping my voice as neutral as possible. “When you spoke to her, did she ever seem... more aware than an NPC should be?”

Scott opened his mouth to object, then hesitated. His eyes darted around, as if searching for a way to dismiss my claim. But he couldn’t find one.

“Now that you mention it,” Scott said, “she did call me the Mirror Man the first time we met.”

I frowned. “Mirror Man? What’s that about?”

“The Mirror Man,” Scott continued, as if recounting a particularly quirky family story, “is this super obscure character from Apocalypta’s lore. Some Old World spy with reactive camo—a stealth suit—sent to infiltrate Dr. Monroe’s lair. Supposed to take out the evil genius, but, classic spy blunder—he totally messes up and gets captured. I thought, ‘Hey, that sounds like a fun role to play!’ So I decided to role-play as the Mirror Man for a while. Sneak around, take out Dr. Monroe’s twisted creations, the Porcs—you know, the pig-men? Passed by that hospital a few weeks ago. Apparently, I really ticked them off.”

“Wait, you were the sniper in the woods?!” I exclaimed, suddenly thrilled to be connecting one of the more bizarre threads of this journey. “You shot one of the Porcs on the fourth floor and pretty much took off half its face. I had to finish it off.”

“Ohhhh,” Scott laughed, “that explains why I didn’t get any XP for the kill! Well, dang, looks like we were destined to meet, Jonas.”

Fate? Destiny? Those concepts felt a bit too cosmic for my taste, like meddling that usually ends badly. But before I could dive deeper into that thought, Scott carried on with his tale, his swagger back in full force.

He recounted how he’d intended to leave the area, snag the Luck perk from Earth Mother’s quest line—which, according to his extensive Apocalypta lore knowledge, would’ve added a chance for his attacks to trigger elemental effects. Apparently, it was a classic Mirror Man move.

“So yeah,” Scott concluded, “Earth Mother shouldn’t have known about the Mirror Man. Only the Librarians of the Order of Illumination would know about him. It was odd when she called me that, but I brushed it off—thought it was just a glitch with the new update. I hung around, fiddled with crafting, waiting for the ascension event. Planned to swoop in at the last minute and play the hero.”

I took a moment to absorb what he’d said. Then I asked directly, “Scott, do you believe me now? That there’s something bigger happening behind the scenes?”

Scott shrugged nonchalantly, though a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Not completely, but enough to say you’re not crazy. Considering you’re carrying around a suitcase nuke, that’s a relief.” He chuckled, but I could sense the genuine concern beneath his bravado.

A wave of relief washed over me. I hadn’t made a powerful enemy, which felt like a minor miracle. But there was a detail from Scott’s story that gnawed at me.

“Playing devil’s advocate for a second,” I said cautiously, “is it possible Earth Mother could’ve just read the graffiti at the entrance to Crushing Fields? You know, the one that said ‘Embrace the Mirror Man’? Maybe her NPC intelligence pieced it together when you showed up in your stealth suit?”

Scott frowned, clearly taken aback. He shifted uncomfortably, as if I’d asked him to explain quantum mechanics rather than a video game plot.

“Jonas,” he said slowly, “I spent days searching every inch of that place. There was no graffiti about the Mirror Man.”

And just like that, the silence between us felt like a guillotine blade hanging over our heads. Someone—or something—had been pulling strings, trying to push Scott and me together. If I had known, back when I first saw that graffiti, what awaited us, I might have taken Earth Mother’s offer of ascension right then and there.