Each step the hooded figure took echoed in the sterile, brightly lit hallway of the Alluring Realms facility. water from the storm that raged outside dripped from the sleeves of their hoodie and the laces of their shoes. Their heart pounded against their ribs, a frantic drumbeat urging them forward, even as every instinct screamed at them to turn back, to abandon the reckless plan that had taken root in their mind. They clutched the small, heavy object concealed beneath a plain white cloth, its weight both a comfort and a burden.
The figure rounded a corner, their breath catching in their throat as they narrowly avoided colliding with a fellow employee. It was Frank, his brow furrowed with worry, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond them. The hooded figure mumbled a quick apology, their voice barely a whisper, and hurried past, careful to avoid meeting his gaze. The encounter sent a fresh wave of anxiety coursing through them. Frank’s concern for Amanda, trapped in the game, was palpable. If he suspected for a moment what the figure carried, their plan would crumble into dust. what is the worst that could happen? well they could lose their job and be unable to provide for their family, the information they had slowly gathered about the missing players would never reach their families and amanda may never recover from the deeply negative Hygeian meter she had gained. the shaky breath they took seemed inordinately loud in their ears as they pushed theirself to keep moving.
Reaching a deserted stretch of hallway, the figure’s gaze darted nervously around, confirming they were alone. Their hands trembled as they swiftly transferred the cloth-wrapped object to an empty compartment within a nearby cleaning cart. The mundane action, a simple act of concealment, provided a fleeting moment of relief, a brief respite from the suffocating pressure that threatened to crush them.
Continuing down the hallway, the figure fought to maintain an outward appearance of calm, their steps measured, their breathing controlled, even as their mind raced with a thousand what-ifs. Reaching a secure door with no obvious markings they hesitated, a wave of dizziness washing over them. beyond the door was an unassigned pod. Their hand, clammy with sweat, swiped their security wristband across the scanner. The lock disengaged with a soft click, the sound amplified in the tense silence. They slipped inside, the heavy door closing silently behind them, sealing them within the dimly lit room.
The air within the room hummed with a low, almost imperceptible vibration, a subtle reminder of the powerful technology housed within its sterile walls. The pods itself, sleek white sarcophagi was nestled against the wall, stood like a silent sentinel, its blinking status lights the only source of illumination in the otherwise darkened room. No tester had been assigned the room or the pod yet so the room was empty save for the pod.
The figure moved towards a pod in the far corner, its exterior pristine and untouched. Unlike most of the others, this pod housed a secret—a hidden compartment, accessible only to those with the knowledge. The compartment was designed to accommodate an object of immense power: a Genesis Rock.
Trembling fingers retrieved the cloth-wrapped object from the cleaning cart, carefully peeling away the layers of fabric to reveal the Genesis Rock within. The crystalline structure pulsed with a faint, ethereal light, its surface swirling with an array of hues of blue that shifted and changed with each breath, each heartbeat. It was a mesmerizing sight, both beautiful and terrifying—a tangible manifestation of the power that coursed through its crystalline veins.
Following a series of practiced movements, the figure inserted the Genesis Rock into the hidden compartment within the Lazarus pod. The pod hummed to life, its systems responding to the presence of the artifact, the air crackling with a surge of energy.
The figure climbed into the pod, their heart pounding against their ribs with a mixture of excitement and dread. Adjusting the helmet, its interior cool and smooth against their skin, they initiated the synchronization sequence. A familiar voice echoed in their mind, the words both a warning and a promise.
<“Prepare for calibration and tutorials in 3… 2… 1.”>
A blinding flash of light enveloped them, followed by a rush of disorienting sensations. Their senses overloaded, bombarded with a cacophony of input—sights, sounds, smells, textures, all jumbled together in a chaotic symphony. The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes, the familiar boundaries of reality blurring and fading, their sense of self dissolving into the swirling vortex.
And then, just as suddenly, it all snapped into focus. The chaos subsided, replaced by a sense of clarity, of heightened awareness. They were no longer in the sterile confines of the Lazarus pod bay but standing within a vast and vibrant digital world. The impossible had become possible. They had achieved what was once thought unthinkable, accessing the game without the use of a pod and logged in as ProlixalParagon.
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Pag’s heart leaped into his throat, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him as he tried to process the message. He barely had time to register the words before a wave of dizziness washed over him, the familiar landscape of the game world dissolving into a swirling vortex of colors and shapes.
The ground seemed to vanish beneath his feet, his body plummeting into an abyss of nothingness. He felt a sickening lurch in his stomach, the sensation of weightlessness so real, so visceral, that he instinctively reached out, his hands grasping at empty air. The digital world, so vibrant and alive just moments before, was gone, replaced by an oppressive darkness that pressed in on him from all sides.
His senses overloaded, bombarded by a chaotic symphony of disjointed input. Snatches of sound—the panicked shouts of his teammates, the clang of metal against metal—echoed in his mind, growing fainter with each passing second. Flashes of light, the vibrant hues of magical spells, danced before his eyes, fading into a dull gray as the darkness consumed him.
The feeling of falling sideways intensified, his body tumbling through an endless void, the air rushing past him, whipping at his skin, stealing his breath. Panic surged through him, a primal fear gripping him as he struggled to regain control, to anchor himself to something, anything. But there was nothing. He was adrift in a sea of nothingness, his mind reeling, his senses spiraling out of control.
Then, just as abruptly as it began, the sensation of falling sideways ceased. His body slammed into something solid, the impact jarring him back to reality. He gasped for air, his lungs burning, his heart pounding against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Blinking against the sudden brightness, he found himself staring up at the familiar interior of the sensory deprivation chamber, the water swirling gently around him. Disoriented and confused, he struggled to make sense of what had just happened. He could still feel the phantom sensation of falling, the echoes of the digital world clinging to him like a ghost.
He lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, his body trembling uncontrollably. What had happened? Why had he been pulled from the game so abruptly? Had something gone wrong with the synchronicity ?
A sudden knock on his door jolted him from his daze. "Pag? You in there? We need to talk."
It was Jorge's voice, laced with concern and a hint of urgency. Pag groaned, pushing himself up to a sitting position. His muscles screamed in protest, every movement a monumental effort. "Yeah, I'm here," he croaked, his voice raspy and weak.
Jorge entered the room, his face pale, his eyes shadowed with worry. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, his gaze sweeping over Pag, assessing his condition. "What happened? Are you alright?"
Pag shook his head, still struggling to regain his equilibrium. "I don't know. I was in the middle of something, and then… that message. System override. And then everything just… went black."
Jorge's expression darkened, his jaw clenching. "System override… that's not good. That means…" He trailed off, his gaze darting to the door as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment.
Pag struggled to his feet, swaying slightly. "What does it mean, Jorge? What's going on?"
Jorge hesitated, then took a deep breath. "It means that someone, or something, has gained access to the Genesis Rock matrix. And they're using it to manipulate the game. They have been for a while and I think now that they have synced they will be able to do more."
Pag stared at him, his mind reeling. "Manipulate the game? How? Why?"
Jorge shook his head, his face grim. "I don't know all the details. But I know this: whatever they're planning, it's not good. And we're running out of time to stop them. "
The words hung in the air, heavy with foreboding. A chill ran down Pag's spine, despite the warmth of the room. The game he had sought as an escape, as a refuge from the harsh realities of the world, had become something far more dangerous, far more sinister.
And he was caught in the middle of it, a pawn in a game he barely understood.
Pag stared at Jorge, a mixture of confusion and annoyance bubbling up inside him. Jorge's words were coming out in a rush, and Pag was struggling to keep up. The sudden system override and the disorientation it caused left him feeling as though his head was stuffed with cotton. He rubbed his temples, desperate for some relief from the throbbing pain. Jorge was talking about another player, someone who had "figured things out," but he was being vague, and it only added to Pag's unease.
"What do you mean they figured things out?" Pag asked, pushing for more information. "What things?"
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Jorge's response was evasive, only deepening the mystery. "You know, things," he replied, his voice lacking its usual confidence. "Things about the game, about the crystals, about the players. Things we didn't want anyone to know. I tried to get dave to stop but my cousin, he just wont listen no matter what I try."
"But how did they figure it out?" Pag pressed, frustration creeping into his voice. "And why didn't you tell us? He’s your cousin?"
Jorge hesitated, as if carefully considering what he could reveal. "We're not supposed to interfere, not directly," he finally said, his voice low. "We're supposed to let the players discover things on their own, to let the game unfold naturally. Even those of us who are allowed to play the game like frank."
Pag found himself on the verge of shouting. "But that's not fair!" he exclaimed, fear and anger mixing together. "You're putting us at risk! What if this other player, this player who figured things out, what if they're dangerous?"
Jorge tried to offer reassurance, but his words rang hollow to Pag. "We're monitoring the situation closely," Jorge said, hoping to calm Pag's growing panic. "We're not going to let anything happen to you, I promise."
Pag wasn't convinced. He felt like he was being kept in the dark, like a pawn in a game he didn't understand. At the same time, curiosity gnawed at him. What had this other player discovered? How had they managed to piece it all together?
"Who is this other player?" Pag asked, needing a name, something to grasp onto. "What's their screen name?"
Jorge shook his head, his expression unreadable. "I can't tell you that."
"Why not?" Pag demanded, his voice rising.
"I dont know who they are and even if i did or had any suspicions i wouldnt tell you for your own safety," Jorge insisted, his tone firm. "Trust me. theres too much you dont know."
“like what happened to Mark cooper?” Pag asked
Jorge Blinked and stared at him. “How?”
“He was my friend. He came here as a beta tester then fell off the face of the earth. He died because of the new pod didnt he?” Pag clenched a fist, scanning Jorge to defend if he decided to attack.
Jorge cursed and scrubbed at his face with trembling hands “we cant get into that right now. Give me a bit of time and I will find a place and time that is safe and secure for us to discuss this but you cant let on to anyone that you know anything. If you need to get a hold of me reach out one of the group c testers.”
“So they know too?” Pag asked.
“we cant get into that now. Please just trust me.”
Pag wanted to argue, but he knew it would be pointless. Jorge wasn't going to give him the information he craved. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. He needed to get back into the game, to explore this unsettling new reality, and maybe, just maybe, uncover the truth behind this mysterious player.
He grabbed a protein bar from his stash and ate it quickly, needing the energy. After washing it down with a gulp of water, he settled back on the bed, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He mentally recalled the dial up noise and focused on the familiar imagery of the loading screen—the swirling colors, the ethereal music—willing himself back into the world of Ludere Online.
The transition was smoother than he expected, and he found himself standing in the familiar courtyard of the Arcane Core. He took a moment to ground himself, to feel the weight of his virtual body, the cool breeze on his skin, the symphony of sounds and colors that made up the game world.
But before he could take a step, a system message flashed before his eyes, its words sending a shiver down his spine:
The words hit Pag like a physical blow. A hard confirmation of at least one thing jorge had said. Someone else had achieved the same connection he had, had broken through the barriers of the game in a way no one thought possible.
And deep down, Pag knew exactly who that someone was: ProlixalParagon.
A wave of unease washed over Pag as he reread the system announcement. Two players fully synchronized. It was a milestone, a groundbreaking achievement in gaming technology, but it felt more like a warning than a celebration. He thought of the warnings Jorge had given him, the hushed whispers among the developers, and the chilling truth behind the Lazarus Project. Eight testers dead in less than a year, their lives sacrificed in the pursuit of a dream that now seemed more like a nightmare.
He glanced at Aviva, her features obscured by her hood, her silence mirroring his own growing apprehension. They had both witnessed the power of the Genesis Rock matrix, its ability to blur the lines between reality and the virtual world. It was a power that could be used for good, for creation and connection, but it was also a power that could be easily corrupted, twisted into something dangerous and destructive.
“It's not just about entertainment anymore,” Pag said, his voice barely a whisper. “It's about… control. About who gets to decide what's real and what's not.”
Aviva nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the desolate landscape of Kyrbane. “The Genesis Rocks… they're a bridge, Pag. A bridge between worlds. But every bridge has two sides. And the side we're stepping onto… it's shrouded in shadow.”
“Tell me more about them. I need to know, if I’m going to be of any use. If im going to keep trusting you.”
Aviva stared at him and swallowed hard. “I can only tell you what they taught us in school, its not something i specialized in or really dug into, it was just a fact of life for me. Like electricity or cars are for most of your people.”
She ran a hand through her hair before continuing. “The planet we come from, mana isnt fiction. Its fact. There is something here that inhibits it, we dont know what, and it weakens us to the point we can only interact like this. In this game. By infusing mana with certain types of stones we can make the what your people are calling the genesis rocks. We call them cores. The type of stone varies based on the mana of the mind that is to be placed inside it. The mana of the person has to resonate with the crystaline matrix of the stone or it wont take. Its like syncronizing. Until recently we throught only one mind at a time could be tied to the cores, any attempt prior to link more than one to a core was an immediate death sentence. All of the attempts made by your people only proved that until you came along.”
“I have a few theories. Even with us limited to interacting with your people and world like this we’re still able to access the internet. For why mana is nearly nonexistent here, there are a few chemical elements prevalent here that arent on any of the planets our people had been to before so it is possible that one of them is a nullifier of some sort. As for why you were able to sync with my core. I think that not only would the mana you would have had an affinity for have to resonate with the crystalline matrix perfectly but it would likely need to match or compliment mine in some manner. I think that that is why the others died, they didnt resonate right.”
The weight of her words settled upon them, heavy and inescapable. The pursuit of realism, of a gaming experience that felt as real as the world outside, had come at a terrible cost. Lives had been lost, boundaries had been crossed, and the consequences of their actions were only beginning to unfold.
Pag thought of the refugees they had encountered, their faces etched with despair and loss. Were they just casualties of a game, or was there something more sinister at play?
The game had changed. The stakes were higher than ever before. And the line between reality and the virtual world was becoming increasingly difficult to discern. If there ever was a line to begin with.
“How many of your people are here? What is it that you want?” Pag asked
“I think there are about 50 of us, not all of us are in Ludere online. Some are in other games that Alluring Realms has made so I cant say with complete certainty. Some of them in Ludere are dieties and others are what you guys call NPCs.” Aviva said. She paused wrapping her arms around herself and looked away from pag. “All I want is to live, honestly i dont mind the game, it feels like a second chance for me. The others though, I dont know. They dont tell me much, I think because I’m so young compared to them.”
He remembered Jorge’s warnings about the Lazarus Project, the experimental technology that had already claimed the lives of eight testers. Avivas theories. He thought of the ominous system override, the administrator-enforced logout that had ripped him from the game just as ProlixalParagon synced. Fear gnawed at him, a cold knot in his stomach.
Pag shivered, a wave of unease washing over him. He thought of the refugees they had encountered in Kyrbane, their despair and desperation a stark reminder of the game’s potential for both good and evil. He thought of the countdown timer ticking away on his character sheet, the threat of Tombs Rattle looming over him. And suddenly, he felt trapped, caught between the real world and the virtual, with the fate of both hanging in the balance.
"What can we do? How can we stop them?" Pag muttered more to hisself than to aviva as he began to pace.
"We need to find out what they're planning, what they’re trying to achieve." aviva said sternly.
“We?” pag halted midstep in his pacing and turned to her, eyes narrowing.
"We’re synced pag. Were stuck with each other, for better or worse. That aside, as much as I hate it it's not just a game anymore, Pag. The lines are blurring, and I don't think we understand the consequences of whatever the others are playing at. I know of at least eight players who have died or went missing. And thats not all.”
"Consequences?" Pag echoed, the fear he'd been suppressing rising to the surface. He thought of the eight testers who'd died, their minds lost in the pursuit of this very thing – full synchronization. He remembered Jorge's warnings about the Lazarus Project, the reckless pursuit of realism that had led to this point.
A wave of nausea rolled through him, and he gripped the edge of the pod for support. "What are we going to do?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Aviva's response was immediate, resolute. "We need to find out what they're planning," she said, her words echoing in the quiet of the pod bay. "What the other cores want. What pillowHorror is after. What ProlixalParagon is trying to achieve. Who they are, because ProlixalParagon isnt a registered Beta Player, they just showed up out of nowhere one day.”
"Jorge's playing it by the book, Pag," Aviva said, her voice taking on a sharper edge. "He's worried about the company, about the project, about what dave would do if he stepped too far out of line. We need to go outside the lines, find answers on our own."
"But who would know?" Pag asked, his mind racing. He felt lost, adrift in a sea of uncertainty. "Who could we even ask?"
"The Group C testers," Aviva said, the words dropping into the silence like stones.
Pag's head snapped up, his eyes widening. "The chaos agents? Are you serious? PillowHorror and ProlixalParagon are part of that group." He'd heard the rumors, the tales of their exploits, their blatant disregard for the rules, their uncanny ability to find and exploit the glitches in the system. He'd always considered them a nuisance, a necessary evil in the pursuit of a polished game. But now…
"They're the ones who push the boundaries, Pag," Aviva said, her voice low and urgent. "They're the ones who see the game differently, who understand the code in ways the developers never intended. If anyone knows what's going on, it's them. yes PillowHorror and ProlixalParagon are part of that group. We dont know if they all play as a with the same goal, and even if they did all cooperate 100% who is to say that just asking outright wouldnt get answers."
Pag hesitated, his apprehension battling with a growing sense of urgency. He glanced at his character sheet, the countdown timer a stark reminder of the threat looming over him. He didn't have time for doubts, for second-guessing. He had to act.
"Okay," he said, his voice firming with resolve. "Let's find them."