“Whoa,” I said, as the door closed behind me on its own accord. “Now this is cool.”

The room was a large studio apartment, doused in medieval-esque decor and filled with modern amenities like a Sleep Number Bed and a leather couch covered in tiger furs.

“I definitely could have used this earlier,” I said, pointing to the two-in-one, washing/drying machine rumbling softly next to the retro TV.

There was a small kitchen in the corner complete with a stove top and microwave. A chunk of meat spun on a spit over a blazing fire inside a grand hearth on the far side of the kitchen.

The four walls were all made of stone. Most of them were lined with bookshelves that ran so high the tops were lost in shadow. All were filled to capacity, and the overflow was scattered around the room in stacks on just about every flat surface other than the stone floor.

Outside, there was a gentle storm pecking melodically at the stained glass windows. Todd said there wasn’t really a storm but the windows were just coded that way.

Atmospheric background music clicked on in my head. It was nothing more than the subtle scratches of feather pens, creaking wood furniture, and the shuffling of scrolls and books. It was the sound of a non-existent crew of scribes bustling around on tip-toes in an ancient library fervently pursuing their studies. Very archaic and wizard-y sounding.

Todd sat on an armchair that looked to be made entirely out of a bull, including a rack of horns built into the back. He put his feet up on a big, wooden desk and opened his arms.

“My home,” he said.

“This place is awesome. Love the pinball machine.”

“Yes, that was a housewarming gift from LES. Everytime you lose, LES blasts you with ‘constructive’ criticism. It’s the little git’s favorite past time.”

“What are all these books? Are they real?”

“Back stories for quests, mostly. A lot of objectives have those. They come with the room. They were really helpful when I gave a shit about all that.”

“Is there one on the hog-goblin slave trade network here in Rockwallow?”

“Doing a slave rescue, huh? Let me see. I did a couple of those a few years ago. Those hogs are mean buggers.” He stood up and scanned a finger over a lower shelf. He paused a few times, shook his head a few times until he finally found what he was looking for. “Here’s something. Take this one.” He handed me a thin, printed pamphlet.

I flipped through it.

“It’s the time table for their caravans all across Lynn Ella," said Todd. "They rarely diverge from it. The only thing those hog NPCs are programmed to do is go around snatching up other NPCs and bring them to their nightclubs.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the door in town. Thanks for this,” I said as I slipped it into my inventory. I sat down in a lazyboy next to the fireplace.

Todd sat back down and put his feet back up on his desk. He pulled out an honest-to-god, curved pipe and lit it with his thumb candle.

“Want one?” he said.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.”

He chuckled. “In here you do.” He pulled a loaded pipe from his inventory and tossed it at me.

I caught it and turned it over a few times before shrugging. “I guess it’s not the same as doing it in the real world.”

Todd smiled, pointed at me, pipe in hand. “Now that’s the spirit.” He sucked in deep and let smoke curl out of his nostrils. For a few minutes we did nothing but puff together. He blew elaborate smoke rings, amused at my attempt to overcome the heavy burn and lightheadedness that came with the hearty buzz.

“Lynn Ella World wasn’t supposed to be like this, you know?” he said, finally. “It was originally built to be a fun, immersive game for everyone. Did you know that?”

“Yeah, I heard tha—" I coughed out smoke, pounding my chest. “Oh man. Yeah, I heard about that. Makes sense. Why make such an expansive, amazing world for just a bunch of inmates?”

“Exactly,” said Todd. “It’s quite brilliant, actually, what those Death Cult rotters did, what they got away with. Now they have a whole world to rub out their fantasies in.”

I told Todd about my brief conversation about the Conglomerate with my brother John and how they made it seem like I had a choice to opt-in for a virtual sentence when I really didn’t.

Todd tisked a few times and shook his head. “I knew it was only a matter of time before the government got on board,” he said. “It’s cost effective. They turn a blind eye every time someone dies in a VR unit because it means lower subsidies to pay out. And since every poor git ‘voluntarily’ ops in, like you did, the government can wash their hands of it. It’s brilliant.”

***

We ended up talking for a long time, discussing a variety of topics.

I told him my background story. He liked that I tried to take down a powerful group of baddies all on my own. He said it was stupid, but he also admired the effort. He also pointed out the parallels between my story to his life here in Lynn Ella.

“There will always be powerful villains lurking in the shadows, pulling the strings,” he said. “In here and on the outside.”

I didn’t get him to divulge much of his background, other than he became a naturalized US citizen while running away from big ‘mistakes,’ in Birmingham. He didn’t have a family but he’d been divorced three times. Deep down he always wanted a son.

We talked about all the women and … woman-like creatures he ‘tried’ to ‘copulate’ with over the years. Well, mostly he reminisced, laughing nostalgically about his experiences while I listened. I could tell it had been a long, long time since he’d talked to anyone and was happy to just not be alone for once.

“When I realized my pork sword was viable in this place, I went buckwild for a stint,” said Todd, laughing. “Talk about a multi-racial experience.” His laugh died in a sigh, then he cringed. “Didn’t end well though. You think STDs in the real world are bad? Try contracting a magicly bolstered form of Troll Chlamydia. Took me a month to work that shit out. Not to mention I was on the run from a Sky-Elf king for nearly a full year after knocking up his daughter.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

I suddenly had a million questions about the nature of NPCs, but he waved it off, told me not to worry about all that.

“The NPCs,” he said, “are what you decide they are, and that’s all I’m going to say about that. If you think too much on it, it will drive you mad.”

He told me about the Elf Tower Brothels in High Dawn City, the Wailing Whorehouse of Ogare Hill. He said there was a Spacialist Guild in a pocket dimension that could be accessed anywhere, but you have to have the upgraded ‘Room of Solace,’ called the ‘Sanctuary of Solace,’ to even be considered for an invite.

He told me about duels he won and lost, the people he saved and killed, and how he did a whole lot of nothing for a really long time.

“There’s a place called the Pacifist’s Passion Palace where they cater to war-torn adventurers who’ve given up,” said Todd. “Wasted a lot of time at the pub there being down on myself.”

He told me to stay far away from the Copulation Catacombs in the underwater city of Swishstix.

“But if you do go there,” he said, pointing his pipe at me, “never, ever bang a Coochi Salamari. They’re like these land mermaid-lizard-squid things—hot as hell, but they will mess you up if you ever try to leave.”

He told me about all the objectives and quests he’d completed and all the politically driven battles he fought in. Turns out there were periodic wars between cities anyone could join once you registered as a citizen.

He said Rockwallow Hollow was too small and too far out of the way to be involved in anything outside their own intercity conflicts. And that was one of the reasons he came here. He also said things had been bubbling up between the hogs and the gnomes in Rockwallow lately—both races itching for a fight. There would be a big intercity war soon, he predicted. It just needed a trigger.

He told me not to stand out too much in the spotlight while kicking ass or a city governor may try to crown me their “City Merlin.”

“They make it seem like it’s a big honor and shit, give you loads of stuff," said Todd. "But really you just become the Governor's bitch. I’d avoid accepting any Merlin positions. Trust me. You want to stay far, far away from celebrity-hero life, kid. The game caters to that kind of progression, but it’s the fastest way to show up on the Death Cult’s radar. And you do not want that to happen. The more popular the player, the harder they get off in their sacrificial ceremonies. They actually believe that their 'God of Technology' gives them power in the real world. It’s not just a game for them. It’s their whole religion. And you do not want to mess with evil, ultra-powered zealots driven by a death religion. Trust me.”

“How strong are you, by the way?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got about nine-thousand experience points. There isn’t much I can’t do now. I can still take a knife in the back as easily as anyone, but I wouldn’t recommend messin’ with me.” He smiled. “That’s one of the game elements I’ve always thought fair and balanced, as far as games go. No matter how strong your abilities, you are still as vulnerable as anyone else.”

“Nine-thousand? Holy shit! And I thought the twenty-three points I just got were a lot.”

“You just earned twenty-three ex-p? Right here in Rolo?”

“Yeah.”

He sucked in deep through his nose, studying me. His eyes turned to slits, then he seemed to recall something. “Ah, so did you get it?”

“Get what?”

“You know what. The Amulet of Lightning. The one around the big guy’s neck. You said you were helping a friend. There’s literally only one reason a Spacialist would be in Rolo Village helping a friend. So did you get it?”

“Would you slit my throat and take it from me if I said yes?”

He chuckled, then pulled out three exact replicas of the pendant.

I frowned. “I thought … so that means—”

“The pendant resets with the cyclops, even if you snag it off the ugly wanker. Just like he comes back no matter how many times you kill him. LES will only give me ex-p for the first time I got him though. Said he’d give me more if I figured how to turn off the loop, but he’s just yanking my dick. Little git. We both know the loop is hard coded into the game.”

Todd’s eyes went distant as he read something I couldn’t see on his interface. Then he laughed out loud, slapped his knee, and said something about the A.I. under his breath.

“Wow. I can’t believe you killed that cyclops,” I said.

“Oh yeah. Plenty of times.” He puffed, puffed again. “There’s a trick but it comes at a big risk. You gotta be a little … edgy, if you know what I mean.”

“How do you do—”

“Na, uh, uh,” he said, wiggling a finger. “You’ve got to figure that out on your own. But, since you’re a Spacialist, you might find this helpful.” He moved a few ancient tomes around on his desk, picked up another pamphlet, and tossed it to me.

“Thanks,” I said. “So, uh, how do you recommend I divvy up my measly twenty-three points?”

“Definitely the outhouse,” said Todd. “If you don’t already have it.”

“Really?”

“It’s the best scapegoat ever, especially if you’re being chased. Or if you just want to get away for a minute. It’s the only room where the door is visible to people you haven’t invited in. And if anyone follows you in without an invite, they’re immediately killed. Bye-bye, see you later. LES won’t tell you that though, and you won't find that in any of these books.” He cupped the back of his hand over his mouth and leaned forward. “I think it’s a glitch.” He wiggled his eyebrows and sat back in his chair. “Can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten out of sticky situations with that handy shitter. Also, momentum portals are absolutely deadly if you have the time to set them up right. I could open one right here, toss a rock in, open the exit portal a few hours later, and it’s a mini bazooka. Totally fu—” Todd stopped mid-explicative to read something on his interface.

“I gotta go,” he said suddenly. “I got one on the move.”

“What? Got who—?”

“I’m gonna have to dump you out, kid. See you around.”

“Can I chat you later or—“

I landed on my ass on the floor of the Star Clucks Café with no fanfare. I stood, stretched my back with a groan. I nodded at the elderly couple who looked horrified to see a young man in a green suit pop out of thin air.

Obviously the loop had just reset not too long ago because the place was still intact. I took a moment to gather myself and think about what had just happened. It was a lot to take in and digest.

***

When I walked out of the gate it was just starting to get dark. I found Yuri sitting on the ground, leaning up against the turret wall. She had her pack clutched in her arms, and next to her were my two chairs. Well, one of my chairs. The other was a pile of lumber now.

“Hey,” I said.

She looked up at me and blinked, blinked again. Her eyes were wet, her cheeks soaked and stained.

She jumped to her feet, her face flushed red. She wiped her eyes and sniffed.

“I … I sent you a chat,” she said. “You didn’t … I thought.” Her eyes went wide as I produced the pendant. She covered her mouth and gasped. “How?” she said, looking up at me.

“Here’s the thing,” I said. “I’d like us to be able to trust each other. I’d like us to be friends. This place is too big and too hard to go at it alone. I like you. I like you a lot, Yuri. Honestly, I think you’re pretty bad-ass.”

She reached out to grab the pendant, but I slipped it back into my inventory. “But trust is earned, Yuri. I know you’ve been at this longer than I have, but you can’t use me like that.”

She slowly put her hands together and cleared her throat.

“And to be honest, if I gave this to you right now, I have a funny feeling you’d find a way to get out of helping me save the gnome kid. So I’m going to hold onto it.”

She looked genuinely hurt, but said nothing—only stared at me. Her eyes bounced back and forth to different parts of my face, her expression unreadable. We stayed like that for a good long moment, saying nothing.

“Well,” I finally said, scratching my head. “Are you going to say anything or what? It’s freaking awkward now.”

Slowly, her stone-cold face softened, and she let out a soft laugh through her nose. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving!”

“Come on. I know a place in town that has really good noodles.”

“Nice,” I said. “That sounds great. And then I want to show you my new pooper.”