“Good to see you,” I say to Lance. “Who are your friends?” I ask, referring to the two warriors accompanying him.
Hara and Marcel are a bit more withdrawn, somewhat reticent. A little over a week ago Lance was entertaining himself by killing Hara every night, and I guess that's not easy to forget.
“If you'll excuse me for a second.” Lance ignores my question and advances toward Hara, who is down the hall sharpening her twin sabers. He leaves me alone with the two warriors. Marcel makes a mocking face as he crosses paths with the paladin.
Lance talks to Hara, says something to her. From his body language I'd say he's apologizing, although from the way the dark elf gesticulates, I'd say she doesn't accept his apology. I think this is going to take a while.
“Thank you very much for your help,” I say to the other two warriors. “I'm Isaac, this is Marcel, and the dark elf's name is Hara.”
“I am Idrial, and this is my brother Antaeus. We are old friends of Lance from tournaments.”
Idrial is a level 89 human warrior with waist-length silver hair, and matching plate armor that covers her neck. She carries a two-handed warhammer that is almost larger than she is. Antaeus is a massive level 90 human. The two-meters-twenty warrior is clad in breastplate with the image of a boar's head on his chest. I wonder how he has managed to create an avatar of those proportions. He carries two huge axes. I would need both hands to lift one of them, and he instead handles them as if they were weightless, one in each hand.
“Well, welcome and thanks again for helping us,” I say. “I don't know if Lance has told you guys what this is all about.”
“He didn't say much,” Idrial says as she tosses her silver hair over her shoulder and looks in Lance and Hara's direction. “Just that it was important, that there was a big rush, and that we weren't going to regret it. It was being quite boring so far, exterminating a few idiots in leather loincloths. But from what I see, things are picking up. Antaeus, are you seeing what I'm seeing? Looks like someone has finally caught the golden bachelor of the tournament.”
Antaeus lets out what sounds like a grunt of affirmation.
“Don't take too much notice of my brother, he's not much of a talker,” Idrial says. “You'll think that he is too wrapped up in his half-giant role, but I can assure you that outside of the Game he's exactly the same.”
Half-giant! That explains the warrior's stature.
“Do you all know each other in real life?” I ask her.
“Yes, that's the thing about participating in the Citadel Championship. You know, exhibitions here, interviews there …”
Marcel seems engrossed in his holo-bracelet, probably amused looking at the features of his new levels.
“Isaac, can I ask you a question?” Idrial says. “Why is it that in the avatar type, both you and Lance's new friend are listed as if you are NPCs?”
I hesitate whether or not to tell her, and in the end, I decide to.
“We are not people as such. We're artificial intelligences, part of an experimental program from a Game department.”
“Wow, so it is true. Cool! I'd heard rumors in meetings with the tournament organizers, but I hadn't given them much credence. That's amazing. No offense, but it sounds like you guys are totally alive.”
“Well, I don't know how humans feel and stuff, but I feel pretty alive,” I say.
Marcel seems to have finished setting up his character's new levels and joins the conversation.
“If you're not alive,” Marcel says as he rubs his mustache, “then I'd say you're the world's best simulation of a cat-obsessed idiot.”
The end of the corridor lights up. Something seems to be happening in the main gallery near the pond. I see Hara peek out, grab Lance by the arm, and come running.
Hara only says two words with wide eyes: “It's Gabriel.”
“What's wrong?” Lance says.
“There's no time,” I say. “We have to go now.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
We run towards the entrance to the cavern. We cross it and reach the forest.
“Who is Gabriel?” asks Lance.
“Gabriel is our supervisor,” I reply.
Lance's face lights up. He picks up his greatsword and turns toward the cave entrance. Hara grabs him by the arm.
“No! It is useless to confront him. In the Game he has absolute control over all things. We have to run away. Please.”
Lance struggles for a moment, but finally nods with a grunt.
“We need a teleportation portal,” Idrial says. “He won't be able to follow us through a portal.” She pulls out a scroll and reads it. A black circle with a rim of yellow light appears in midair with a buzzing sound. “Come on!”
Idrial steps through the portal, followed by Hara and Marcel. Antaeus has to duck to enter the circle.
“Lance! Let's go!” I say, “There's no time. There's nothing you can do, believe me.”
He turns and looks at me. After a moment, he nods and steps through the portal.
I'm the last one through. Just before I cross it, I turn my gaze towards the cave entrance. Gabriel, in his horn-rimmed glasses and white coat, watches me from the opening as I enter the circle. His eyes are sad, and he shakes his head.
[https://imgur.com/ysXLDcV.png]
“Who the hell is that Gabriel?” asks Idrial as she sits in a green velvet armchair that smells musty. On the other side of the circle we have appeared in the living room of a mansion. It is Idrial's house in the Citadel.
“He's a pig,” Marcel says, as he walks over to a fireplace burning on the corner and warms his hands.
I decide to start from the beginning. I tell them our story: about the contract, the waiting room, Gabriel and his tablet. Marcel makes a disgusted face when I tell them about Gabriel, and Idrial glares angrily at Lance when I tell them about his obsession with the mission to defeat Hara. I describe how Gabriel proved me that I was nobody, and I see Marcel become sad. I talk about the board of developers, who want to remove us through an update, because they think the AI program is getting out of hand.
I tell them that both Hara and I are slaves in this world where humans spend their free time. We have no control over our minds or our bodies. They do not belong to us. We are not people, we are just things.
Lance looks at the flames in the fireplace. He says nothing. Idrial says she's sorry. Antaeus sits on the floor with his head down. Marcel hugs Hara, which is curious to say the least.
“It's horrible,” Idrial says. “And there's nothing that can be done?”
I sigh and look down.
“There is a possibility,” Marcel says. “The ice dragon mountain mission.”
Lance turns and looks thoughtful.
“You mean what they say about how if you defeat the dragon, you can upgrade one of the features,” Idrial says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It's a little borderline. It's weird, I don't know if it would work.”
“Why not?” says Marcel. “The forums make it clear: any feature. If Isaac and Hara defeat the dragon, they could decide to change the Type feature of their avatars. They would cease to be NPCs, and therefore no longer be subject to the Game.”
“What you say makes a certain amount of sense,” Lance says, tucking his hair behind his ear, “but there are a few drawbacks to it. First, that just crossing the ice maze and getting to the top of the mountain to face the dragon is already a challenge.
“We tried last year, Lance, Antaeus, and I,” Idrial says. “We entered the labyrinth. We defeated trolls, spiders, saber-toothed tigers, and fire wraiths, but we couldn't find the exit. We didn't even get to see the summit or the dragon.”
Antaeus grunts sitting on the ground.
“No offense,” Marcel says smiling, “but I think we can help with that part. To solve all that are puzzles and tests what is needed is agility and brain, not brawn. And for agility and brains we have Hara and the idiot, who have plenty of that.” By the idiot I take it that he means me.
“Secondly,” Lance continues, “we should be able to survive to the end,” he says as he looks at us, Hara and me.
“We could fill their inventories with healing potions and cross our fingers that they don't face more than one enemy at a time,” Idrial says. “We could also increase Marcel's level, perhaps by going on a previous mission with one of us.”
“And third,” Lance says. “If what is being said is true, the final enemy is a level 500 dragon - I have no idea how we could defeat it, not even by attacking all at once.”
“It's an ice dragon, isn't it?” says Marcel.
“Yes,” Lance says.
“Well, it turns out that you have before you the number one enemy of ice. Let me pay a visit to the scroll store tomorrow, and don't worry, I'll take care of the dragon,” he says, smiling.
Lance and Idrial look at each other.
“We could try,” Idrial says. “The worst thing that could happen to us is that we lose the money for the scrolls and healing potions.”
Lance nods, and Antaeus lets out a grunt of approval.
“Perfect then,” says Idrial. “Well, we'll get everything ready tomorrow. Now then if you want to rest upstairs there are plenty of rooms. Here you should be able to rest easy.”
As if fate wanted to prove her wrong, a sphere of light appears. Lance and Idrial jump up and draw their weapons. Gabriel appears in the middle of the room.
Lance tries to cut him in two with his greatsword, but it pierces him like air. Gabriel ignores him, as if he doesn't exist.
“Hello Isaac, hello Hara,” Gabriel says. “I'm sorry, but I came to say goodbye. The board has put pressure on me, and I can't keep blocking the update. I've done everything in my power, I couldn't do more. I am sorry if I have caused you any harm, it was really not my intention. You are like children to me. I hope I was a good father to you. I wish you happiness and peace wherever you go.”
He disappears just as he appeared without another word.
I feel a blue glow above my head. A bar has appeared. I see a similar one above Hara.
“What is that?” asks Marcel.
I open the console of the holo-bracelet and check the notifications. I see a message window with a progress bar. Above it reads:
Update in progress. There are 5 minutes left until the update is finished.
“It's the update,” I say. “Gabriel must have unlocked it. We are transforming into standard NPCs. Hara and I have five minutes left to cease to exist.”