Novels2Search
Legacy
0-Prologue

0-Prologue

First time writing a fanfic, please check for grammar error and such thank you!

Oakleaf Drive, a more quiet and reserved street than its brethren, was home to some of the most peculiar people in the neighbourhood. From the outside, the brick houses looked like siblings, most likely designed by some 1960’s architect who did not know the meaning of variation. The one distinguishing feature, which the inhabitants used to tell the houses apart was the subtle difference of one dull house colour compared to the next. However, if one were to pay a visit to each house, it would be guaranteed that he or she would be in for a great surprise. The interior of each house had a drastically different appearance than that of its neighbours’. Mrs. Distaso, a widow who had lost her husband to war, had painted the inside of her house a porcelain white, and removed all the furniture except for the very basics. The Wendells, who lived three houses down from Mrs. Distaso, had created a more festive atmosphere year round; with lively red, and vibrant green wallpaper, matched with tartan couches. The only average house on the street was that of Mr. Kirk. Except for the dull green exterior, Mr. Kirk’s house depicted an ideal 21st century design: Glass tables, white leather couches, marble flooring, and a black grand piano.

At the age of twenty-nine, Charles Kirk had retired and moved into his current residence on Oakleaf Drive; after the house’s previous owners had moved into the elders’ housing ten minutes north. Ever since moving in, be it rain or snow, Mr. Kirk had stuck closely to a lonely self-imposed schedule. So closely that even some of his neighbours could recall it without much difficulty. In the morning, at around six he would leave the house in a track suit and begin his two hour long jog. During the afternoon, he would leave his house again in his Toyota, heading towards the nearest mall. Rarely did he talk with anyone. Finally at around 10:00 PM, his lights would go out signaling that he would soon be asleep. Surprisingly, on one unusually windy Wednesday, after his morning jog, Mr.Kirk was not seen again. It wasn’t until the third week, after a three hour session of frantic knocking, that his neighbours decided to call the police. When they finally forced their way into the house, everyone was surprised to find Mr.Kirk sound asleep in his bed. Covering his whole head, was a silver helmet fastened tightly. On the front of the helmet read: Cyberelectronics.inc- VRAP-Mark II. With the assurance that he was breathing, everyone left the house.

Cyberelectronics, now a multi-billion dollar company, rose to fame due to its successes in the field of virtual reality. The company was the first to create a VRAP (Virtual Reality Access Port), a device that allowed users to connect to virtual reality via a helmet. Unlike most companies that researched virtual reality, Cyberelectronics was not government funded, but instead it relied on the genius of one man who had left the company, at the peak of its success, two years ago.

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“You’ve got mail!” An obnoxious automated voice announced, waking Charles Kirk from his slumber. Ruffling his disheveled hair, he stared at his grey electronic clock, trying to make out the blurred numbers which were displayed.

“You’ve got mail!” The artificially excited voice repeated, filling Charles with annoyance. Taking the nearest object, a book which he had been reading the previous night, he flung it in the general direction of the voice and dove back under his blanket.

“You’ve got mail!” The voice wailed, through the barrier of bedsheets which Charles had erected. Resigning, he stepped out into the frigid early morning air and approached the dresser across from his bed, on which his iphone was recharging. Flipping the phone to silent, he saw the time which had been displayed: 4:45 am. It was too late to go back to sleep. Letting loose a heavy sigh, he dressed himself in his tracksuit and headed down stairs.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Stella, lights please.” His voice reverberating through the empty house.

“Yes master.” A human like voice answered through the house’s sound system. Stretching his cramped back, Charles began to retrieve his coffee grinder for his much anticipated morning coffee.

“Master, you have 177 unread messages in your mailbox, would you like to read them?” Stella asked.

Sighing a second time, Charles answered, “Yes, show me the first ten flagged ones.”

“They’re all flagged.”

“Then just show me ten of them.”

“Yes, Master.”

The kitchen wall in front of Charles flashed and faded to be replaced by ten message windows. Carefully reading each one, Charles was baffled to find that the contents of each email was the same. The email read:

Dear Mr. Kirk,

We are thrilled to announce the launch of our new game, Legacy. Due to you being the principal shareholder of our company and your contributions to making VRAP a reality, we have decided to honour you with an unlimited subscription for the game and special privileges in game for you to enjoy.

Yours respectfully,

The development team.

Thinking that there may be more of the same mail, Charles said,”Stella, delete all emails identical to the one ones already on the screen and open the rest.”

“Understood Master…..I am sorry but after deleting all mail, there are no further unread messages to open.”

“What?” He stopped grinding his coffee beans and stared intently at the kitchen wall. It was indeed as Stella had described, aside from the family emails, which he had already read the night before, there were no other emails.

Resuming his grinding, he started to hum a small tune, “Fear not this night, you will not be led astray. Hold the embers dear, and let them not fade...”

His melodious voice, which drifted through the house, was soon shattered by the high pitched chime of the door bell. Stopping his grinding, Charles exited his kitchen and answered the door.

“Mr. Kirk I presume.” A stern faced man stated while holding onto a small basketball sized box.

“Yes, and you are?” Charles answered, his voice was now devoid of emotion.

“I am here to deliver a package to you on behalf of Cyberelectronics, can you please sign here.” The man said, as he produced a clipboard of documents and a pen.

Eyeing the man cautiously, and perusing the documents, Charles finally decided to sign it.

“Thank you Mr. Kirk. Have a good day.” The man said as he handed him the box, which he had been holding, and left.

After closing the door, Charles impatiently ripped open the box and carried it contents into the living room.

“Stella do you know what this is?” He asked, his voice no longer containing the cold edge it had while he was talking to the delivery man.

“I am sorry master, I do not have an x-ray or thermal red scanners equipped, thus I am unable to answer this question.” She replied with a matter of fact tone.

“This is a VRAP for the game Legacy.” He exclaimed.

“By the same company you worked for correct?” Stella asked.

“Yes, and now I can see what I helped to create.” He nearly squealed at the idea.

“Stella clear my schedule for today.” Without waiting for a reply Charles open the box containing the VRAP, and placed the new headgear on his head. Finding a comfortable position on the couch, he activated the VRAP.

“Initiate Dive.” With those words, the familiar ceiling of Charles house faded in a flash of colours.

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