Clacking filled the void as he typed at his keyboard, relishing the feeling of the keys against his fingers. It wasn’t necessary, especially to someone like him, but it was a guilty pleasure of his.
HOW GOES THE SEARCH?
He chuckled, his voice overlayed with static.
It’s going. Project ARREST is nearing completion, and SIM is pulling surprising results.
Heavy clicks filled the space as streams of white text began flowing around each other, constantly shifting and flickering.
RUNTIME ERROR NULL EX-
SUCCESSFUL TERMINATION OF “DAMI-
YOU HAVE ACHIEVED A FIRST CLEA-
CALCULATING STATISTICAL ANON-
SERVERS FUNCTIONING AT 82.4% CAPA-
The text slowed to a stop, finally settling on a single, coherent message. He hummed, spinning in his chair as he turned to read.
PROJECT ARREST IS AT 90% COMPLETION. PROJECTED COMPLETION DATE: 4 WEEKS.
PROJECT SIM IS AT 0% COMPLETION. PROJECTED COMPLETION DATE: NEVER.
He groaned, the void filling with an oppressive silence as his hands stopped momentarily.
Dang, I thought we had it this time.
I BELIEVE I PREDICTED THIS. IF WE HAD JUST-
I know, I know! I don’t wanna talk about it, alright?
It was expected, but it still hurt. Project SIM had been started five years ago, and they still were working on perfecting it. They just need to get the right initial algorithm set up to make it all work.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO REVIEW OUR PROGRESS ON PROJECT ARREST?
He thought about it, letting his hands mindlessly start clacking on the keyboard again. Screens flicked past his gaze faster than a human could follow, each one filling with a long wall of text as his hands continued their work.
Sure. Show me STEEL HEARTS.
The screen before him flickered with static, a loud screeching noise blasting through the void. He picked at his ear with his finger, far too used to this.
It shifted a bit, finally showing the man he was looking for. With his silver armor and hair dyed white, he was almost unmistakable.
Geo Roman. Nobody else fought the way that Geo did, his eyes barely moving as his blasters seemed to move with a mind of their own, mowing down the enemies around him. The more prominent members of his guild followed behind him.
STILL A SHOWBOAT I SEE.
He grit his teeth as he watched Geo continue his leisurely stroll through a field of monsters. Such a BEGINNER, it was so obvious that even a blind bat could tell.
BEGINNERS were the worst kinds of players. They put in no effort, had no drive, and let the SYSTEM do all the work for them. Half the time they didn’t even have to play the game, just letting the SYSTEM run their body through the motions.
It was something that he despised, watching BEGINNERS barely put forth any effort into the game and still produce results. For children, it made sense. For others, though…
Can you do something about that?
I HAVE ONLY BEEN TASKED WITH MONITORING. YOU KNOW THIS. I DO NOT KNOW WHY YOU CONTINUE TO ASK ME TO DEFY MY PURPOSE.
He sighed. Neither of them could really “feel” things in the sense that a normal person would, but they still had their moments. This was one of them, the source of an argument spanning a decade.
You know why. I already did.
BUT YOU HAD THE NEED, AND I DO NOT. THAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN US.
They both went quiet for a while, an incalculable amount of time passing as they both continued to work. He finished typing his reports and moved onto player observations, his fingers flying across the keys as he mentally switched between the views of the many players currently online.
A young woman struggled to spear a slime, barely dodging as it rolled towards her. He rolled his eyes. Some people just didn’t have the instincts for this game, even if they claimed the opposite.
Little boys sparring with tiny swords. Four men with machine guns mowing their way through a nest of furious lizards. Three women praying. He flipped through each of these, his fingers compiling the necessary data as he continued scrolling.
INTERESTING.
The presence hovered over his shoulder, its intent focusing on the screen. A woman wreathed in flame was shown landing a devastating blow on a flying dragon’s neck. A harsh grin split her face, her bright crimson eyes blazing with cruelty.
It appears RED is making his move.
YES, IT WOULD SEEM SO. I PREDICT WITH 74.9% ACCURACY THAT GREEN WILL BE NEXT.
Ah, yes, GREEN. A despicable woman who thrived on the pain and suffering of those around her.
How long until the first ASCENSION? She must be getting close.
There was a low hum in the darkness as everything paused.
A WEEK. I PREDICT A WEEK. FROM THE CURRENT DATA, IT LOOKS LIKE CHRISTINE TAYLOR OF FOUNDATION WILL BE THE FIRST.
He nodded absently, watching the aforementioned woman rip out the dragon’s eye before driving her massive glowing spear through its skull. The dragon plummeted with a weak gurgle as Christine ripped out her spear, using her mechanical wings to safely lower herself to the ground.
YOU STILL NEED TO PICK YOURS, I BELIEVE. HAVE ANYONE IN MIND?
Grumbling, he frowned as he thought about his options, mentally sifting through the billions of reports of player data. There were so many candidates, so many opportunities, but none had met his criteria so far.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
In the past, a few groups had shown some promise, and he’d directed them to the LEVELING FACILITY to give them a chance at the TOWER. One of the groups had made it relatively far, reaching Floor 18 before the mobs caught up with them.
There was also another group that had never left the LEVELING FACILITY, which confused him greatly. It was mainly comprised of children, so he’d assumed that they wouldn’t know about the LEVELING FACILITY and what came after. Apparently, he must have assumed wrong if they chose to delete their avatars instead of attempting the TOWER.
He sighed, slumping in his seat as he continued to sift through the player data. If only his top two candidates were still alive…
Nothing so far, he said instead. Paul Hartford seemed like a good pick, but he received a bad CLASS for the TOWER. No way he survives.
THAT IS A VALID ASSESSMENT, BUT I FELT THAT THE ARTIFICER CLASS WOULD SUIT HIM BETTER THAN THE OTHERS.
So? Not like he could utilize it if he already changed his avatar around.
HIS AVATAR HAS NOT BEEN TERMINATED YET.
He sucked in a breath, his eyes widening. Now that was unexpected. He’d predicted that Paul would last five minutes, at most, before switching to a different character.
Searching through his database of information, he found the stream he was searching for and uploaded it to the monitor floating before him. The picture was clear and concise, full of bright lights and flashing colors.
FLOOR 70? THAT IS MUCH HIGHER THAN ANY MODELS EVER PREDICTED HIM REACHING IN THIS AMOUNT OF TIME.
This is a surprise. He watched as Paul ducked and weaved around the balls of light, light on his feet as he danced about. Nothing even came close to hitting him, a serene smile gracing his face as he knocked a fairy out of the air with his hammer. The machine gun in the creature’s hands went off instantly, shooting a stream of giant, glowing dots across the room.
HE IS ACTULLY DOING RATHER WELL.
He nodded, never once taking is eyes off Paul. That was why he almost missed the blur of motion behind Paul’s shoulders, the glint of steel as a knife knocked a stray bullet off-course.
Squinting at the blur, he tried to make out its contents, studying it as it darted about the room. It didn’t appear to be a SKILL of some kind, instead seeming to be the product of raw STATS.
Who is that?
More clacking filled the void, white strings of letters blurring faster and faster as they condensed around his form. There was a burst of static, the void flickering for a moment before it stabilized.
…
He paused. It wasn’t often that the SYSTEM went quiet like that.
SYSTEM? Who is it?
There was no response, only a whirling in the deepest recesses of the void. The whirling increased in pitch and volume until it was almost a screech.
SHE SHOULD NOT EXIST.
The words boomed through the void, white cracks flickering across its surface, and he flinched.
NULL. VARIABLE NOT INITIALIZED. TERMINATING SEQUENCE…
TERMINATION FAILED. TERMINATING SEQUENCE…
TERMINATION FAILED. TERMINATING SEQUENCE…
His hands grasped the sides of his head as a sticky fluid began to crawl up his limbs, trying to suck him through the void into the ROOT. It felt like his head was being split apart, the pieces that made up HIM and THEM merging to the point that he could barely distinguish anything anymore.
Sounds exploded around him, crying and wailing filling his nonexistent ears as the SYSTEM continued attempting the TERMINATION SEQUENCE, becoming more and more frantic as the failures continued to accumulate.
Help me don’t let me-
I can’t I can’t I cantIcantIcan-
Fifty-two, FIfTy-TWo, FFFiiiiIFFYTYYY0O2-TT@WWSsOOOOoo-
Louder and louder the cacophony of voices cried, begging, pleading. He felt himself ripping apart at the seams, his code fragmenting and sinking into the inky black. For a moment, he wondered if this would be the end of his existence.
Then it all stopped. The void became so silent and still that he lurched in place, his being filling with revulsion. It wasn’t natural.
I SEE.
The SYSTEM was strangely subdued, its voice quiet and thoughtful. It was a new take for the thing, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.
I APPEAR TO HAVE OVERLOOKED SOMETHING.
What? What did you overlook?
As far as he knew, the SYSTEM had never been truly wrong. It made predictions, never sticking with facts, only talking about its core processes with absolute certainty.
TAKE A LOOK FOR YOURSELF.
His head turned back to the monitor without his input, and he watched as a girl with a wooden staff smacked the face of the leader of the fairies, the boss screeching as a pool of darkness opened beneath its feet. It struggled to rip itself out of the sludge, nearly succeeding before a steel knife impaled it through the chest. With a gurgle, it sunk into the darkness, the knife being ripped out by a girl with bright blue eyes.
…No, that shouldn’t be possible. They were both TERMINATED.
YES, BUT IT APPEARS THAT THEIR HARDWARE GLITCHED AT THE LAST SECOND. PERHAPS IT IS THAT 1/60 OF A SECOND GLITCH THAT WAS DISCOVERED DURING DEVELOPMENT.
Calculations ran through his processes as he studied the girls. Heather Yew and Jamie Grather, his original candidates for ASCENSION. A proper ASCENSION, not the ones devised by the other CORES. The other CORES used an ASCENSION that limited the players, but he wanted to use the original method. Hence, the creation of the TOWER, COLOSSEUM, and ABYSS.
Sifting through the logs on their old, destroyed headsets, he discovered that the 1/60 of a second glitch indeed occurred directly before TERMINATION. The absurdity of it all made him chuckle, which soon dissolved into full-blown cackles as he realized the implications of this.
Are- HAHA- are the others aware of this?
SO FAR, WE ARE THE ONLY ONES THAT HAVE DISCOVERED THEIR CONTINUED EXISTENCE.
His cackles began to die as he watched the group move to the next floor of the TOWER, each of them alert and tense. Browsing through their STATS and TITLES, he raised an eyebrow at what he found.
Heather acquired the SHATTERED TITLE. How did she pull that off?
The SYSTEM hummed, its processers firing sporadically, sending pulses of energy through the void.
AH. IT APPEARS THAT HEATHER YEW AND JAMIE GRATHER ARE PLAYING ON REALISTIC MODE.
His cheer instantly vanished.
Are you positive?
YES. I CHECKED THEIR LOGS. JAMIE GRATHER FLICKED THE SWITCH INSIDE BOTH OF THEIR HELMETS, SEEMINGLY BY ACCIDENT.
Well, that changes things. Explains where SHATTERED came from, though. I assume Heather dealt the last blow to the ABYSS STALKER on Floor 10?
THAT IS CORRECT.
He sighed. Realistic mode was not something to be taken lightly. It exacerbated everything about the player’s avatar, making movements harder, magic nigh impossible, and generally being a pain to deal with. The LEVELING FACILITY was designed to accommodate players using Realistic mode, but he never expected anyone to actually challenge the TOWER on that mode. It was suicide.
…Well, that’s what he used to think. Watching Jamie and Heather, though, gave him a different perspective. Apparently, with enough motivation, some people were crazy enough to pull it off.
Have you confirmed the reason they survived? I confirmed that the 1/60 of a second glitch was triggered, but that gave me little to work with.
IT WAS BECAUSE THE GLITCH TRIGGERED THAT THEY MANAGED TO SURVIVE. IN THAT 1/60 OF A SECOND, THEIR MINDS WERE BRIEFLY SEPARATED FROM THEIR MATERIAL BODIES. THE EQUIPMENT HAPPENED TO FAIL DURING THIS PROCESS, PRESERVING THEIR MINDS WHILE THE REST OF THEIR SYSTEMS WERE TERMINATED.
I see. It made sense, he supposed. The possibility of the occurrence was near nonexistent, but it was still possible, and it had kept his two most promising candidates alive, which were all good things.
The SYSTEM suddenly screeched, and he winced.
IT APPEARS THAT WHITE MANAGED TO DISCOVER THEIR EXISTENCE. SHE HAS ALREADY BEGUN IMPLEMENTING COUNTERMEASURES TO ENSURE THEIR TERMINATION.
What?! What did WHITE do?
A message blinked into existence in front of his face, and he felt his processes freeze as the words registered in his system.
ATTENTION ALL PLAYERS: THE COLOSSEUM ON PLANE 5 WILL BECOME AVAILABLE IN 24 HOURS. ALL ARE WELCOME TO JOIN. REWARDS ARE AVAILABLE FOR ANY PLAYERS WHO LAST AN ENTIRE MONTH WITHIN ITS WALLS.
No! No no no! Who was this released to?
EVERYONE.
His processes cycled faster and faster as he tried to calculate countermeasures. After a few million cycles, he only had one that would work without creating any flags in the system, and he groaned.
SYSTEM, keep watch on their progress and increase the rate of drops higher than RARE for their party. I will work on their ASCENSION in the meantime.
Another low hum filled the void, and he felt the presence of the SYSTEM fading as it began to perform its regular duties. His hands flew across the keyboard as he began composing the party’s ASCENSION STATS, praying that he could finish in time.
Before it vanished completely, the SYSTEM left him with one last parting message.
AS YOU SAY, BLACK. GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR UPCOMING TASK. YOU HAVE 3 YEARS, 57 DAYS, 32 MINUTES, AND 6 SECONDS TO FINISH BEFORE THE WAR BEGINS.