Josh reclined in his VR chair, specially ordered just for this game. He'd spent twenty minutes admiring the rig’s sleek packaging, followed by hours of mundane yet painstaking flat pack assembly. He was still grinding his teeth at the single left over bolt now sitting on his desk. Hopefully this rig wouldn't fall apart on him. He wondered if he would he even wake up if that happened. These full immersion rigs were supposed to leave you with no awareness of the real world. Your very nervous system plugged into it. Josh thought fleetingly that a sudden jolt might rip through his spinal cord. However, the now titan of industry that produced the rig, Virtue, placed it's safety features at the forefront of its marketing strategy. “Virtue is your safe space in the midst of an apocalypse.” was one of their terrible TV jingles.

Like the tech giants of old, Virtue had started as a garage operated company with a sole employee. That employee was Mr Clark Wiggs, who filled the roles of chief executive, chief engineer, and chief sales guru. Now it was one the wealthiest, best loved and most envied brands in the world.

Josh took a breathe, and thought: here goes. Closing the visor on rig’s helmet, Josh flicked the cold and very retro aluminum switch on the side of his helmet, while lying back in plush padding of the chair. As the machinery hummed and whirred to life, Josh felt his stomach drop and he became light headed. He couldn't tell if his vision was fading, as his field of view was completely black, but Josh had passed out enough times before to recognise the sensation.

Coming to, not knowing how much time had passed, Josh saw the rigs loading icon spinning before him. It continued to spin, larger and larger, a small window into another world becoming emerging before him, and then surrounded him, leaving him standing in a bright and open snow capped mountain range. Atop his own mountain peak, Josh's strange first thought was that it wasn't cold.

A woman’s voice startled him. “It used to be cold, but too many found it unsettling. Would you like it to be cold? This is default setting, and your home environment can be customised to whatever you prefer.” The voice came from a beautiful woman. If Plato’s Theory of Forms had an “Executive Assistant” this would be it's female form. Her outfit and presentation was the perfect balance between professional and stylish, and everything about her screamed “I’m here to help!”

“This is fine,” said Josh, a little unsettled that his mind had just been read. “I don't plan on sticking around. Where can I access “CTRL + ALT: Begin? I purchased it earlier...”

“The installation has already begun, you can begin playing in approximately two minutes and thirty seconds. I apologise if you found my responding to your thoughts unsettling, but what is your speaking to me in this programme, except for the machine around you reading your thought patterns?” She paused, before smirking and saying “If I can anticipate your needs by accessing the available information, I can only assist you better. Or would you prefer some kind of bouncing paper clip asking for input every minute? ”

“No, no, that’s okay. I just hadn’t really considered it. If I’m stuck waiting, can I peruse the game's manual and wiki in here?” Josh asked, impatient to begin acting upon his plans. He also happened to like paper clips.

He'd read up on Control in detail earlier, but he may as well spend all of the remaining time he had brushing up. His biggest area of concern with it all was the means of learning magic in the game. 'Contemplation’ was vaguely defined as: “The means of acquiring a magical ability. Through contemplation a player could come to understand a thing or phenomena, and learn its essence, which could then be cast, infused, enchanted, etched or combined to alter the items and world around your character.”

Josh assumed that he'd have to do more than just stare into a fire for a few hours to become a fire wielding mage, but there was no guide on how to do this. He assumed this was because contemplation was one of the many unique systems that relied on the game’s AI to uniquely develop alongside each individual player. Josh also suspected that other players wouldn’t want to give away their broader understanding of a game that was all about gaining advantages.

Josh was most curious about how you could combine essences. He considered this to be the key to true power in the game, but he hadn’t the slightest idea of how to achieve it.  

Josh liked to make plans, and unknown variables such as ‘contemplation’ grated him. They limited his ability to account for all eventualities. He thought he could manage it though, as he has spent the last several weeks researching the world of Control. He had what he thought was a pretty good plan to go from a nobody to an evil overlord.

He’d better start raking it in too.  Josh had quit his job at the bank two weeks before, cutting off his steady stream of income. It had been a boring, but fruitful job. Josh calculated he had enough saved up to give him about three months before he had to start turning a profit in the game, or get another real life job.

“Ahem.” His virtual assistant brought him back from his wandering thoughts by clearing her non-existent throat. It learned quick.

“Thank you, I try. Ctrl + Alt: Begin is now playable. There will be ongoing background updates, but this will not impact your playing experience.”

“Thanks...Ummm.” Josh began.

“You can call me whatever you want, but my default name is Melissa.”

Josh cringed. He knew a Melissa, they didn’t get on. “How about... Rita?”

“Rita sounds great.” Assured Rita.

“Okay! Let’s play some Control!”

“Starting game. Good luck Josh.”

Loading…

Welcome to CTRL + ALT: Begin. You may now begin.

The text appeared in front of Josh, nothing else visible to him, except for a selection box.

Create New Character?

Josh thought yes, and the character creation screen appeared before him. The default human male slowly spun in front of him. Modestly outfitted in a pair of rough hewn underwear, that looked remarkably like to modern day briefs. Fantasy suspended, for the purpose of comfortable but unremovable underwear, Josh thought to himself dryly. 

Unlike most people, Josh had already worked out exactly what he wanted to do, with his character. It wasn’t about style. Josh had always thought people were stupid not to put more thought into their character’s appearance in games with a character creation function. It was how you appeared in the world.

When he was little, Josh played a lot of Time Splitters, the second installment to be specific. Of the many characters available to play, Josh preferred the Monkey. Why, you may ask? Because the Monkey was a small target, but it didn’t lose any speed, or aiming capacity, for this great advantage. As far as Josh was concerned, if you didn’t pick the Monkey, you were doing it wrong.

Josh selected the Race drop down menu, scrolling down the list until he hit gnome. Just like his beloved monkey, the gnome was a small target, and in a game where character’s identifying information was hidden unless focused upon, or divined through other means, a small character would be able to hide better.

On this vein, Josh began to change his character’s skin color and hue. He had considered going full camo on this front, but decided against it. Better than trying to be completely camouflaged through a variety of backgrounds, Josh planned to hide in plain sight.

A small creature with an off yellow hue, Josh’s gnome didn’t look like a gnome any more. He accentuated it’s nose to be long, and sharp, making it’s eye’s pitch black, spindly arms and legs and a pot belly to round it off. Josh admired his creation. It looked like a small, ugly goblin.

Goblins were a species unto themselves in the Control world, though not playable, and Josh’s gnome could now easily pass for one. So if he played his card right, other players would mistake him for just another NPC. The thing that helped Josh most here was that Goblins came in a variety of breeds, one of which was the Lesser Goblin, which looked most like Josh’s character.

Though it wasn’t perfect. In a line up with other lesser goblins the differences would be easily spotted. Josh’s ears were much shorter, his eye’s smaller, and his hand’s had all five digits, but if Josh were the only ‘Lesser Goblin’ standing in a group of various goblin’s he’d fit right in.

Josh accepted his character’s appearance and moved on to the part he was most worried about. Name selection.

Josh typed “Lesser Goblin” and selected Confirm with his mind.

Rejected. Lesser Goblin is a creature’s name. It can not be selected.

Damn. Josh had suspected this was the case, but he wasn’t finished yet.

He typed “Lesser GobIin.” exchanging the L in Goblin for a capital i. With a thought, he hit Confirm.

Accepted. Welcome to CTRL + ALT: Begin Lesser GobIin.  Your story will now begin!

HELL YEAH! Thought Josh, as the world began to materialize around him.

* * * *

Josh had materialised into the world, only to be greeted by the standard tutorial drivel that every game seemed to push upon you. God forbid a player might be able to intuit the use of their inventory, the nature of strength and stamina, and the value of a hit point.

Overall though, Josh thought there was a decent level of realism in the game. He just wished that it's developers had not fallen into the trap or babying new players.

Perhaps there were some advantages though, Josh thought, as he bit down into one of the delicious sandwiches the tutorial guard had given him as a reward for beating a stick at a dummy for half an hour. It was better than many of the real sandwiches he'd eaten. Its crust flaked off as he bit into it, each flavour and texture reminding him of the real thing. He even felt the food slide down his throat as he swallowed, as the morning's hunger started to fade away.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Along with sandwiches, Josh had been given some flint and tinder, four silver coins, stamped with the emblem of the empire of flame, and a map of the town and its surrounding demesne. Josh had known about these items from his research into the game, but he just didn’t see why he’d had to sit through scripted dialogue, when everything else in the game was interactive.

As he ate, Josh looked around the square that he was sitting in. Perched on his stone bench by a bubbling fountain, Josh looked around at the thatched roofs and wooden buildings that comprised the large town of Beaufort.

Beaufort was a starter zone in the game world, which meant it was one of the few locations in the world where player killing was immediately punished. Josh smiled to himself at the thought. It wasn't that you couldn't kill players in the town. No one would stop you. But the moment you did, the world would immediately find an efficient means of killing your character too.

Josh has borne witness to a group of new players attack a fully equipped knight earlier in the day. Each of the mobbing players in starting gear, but wielding long, sharp daggers. Presumably the best daggers that four silver coins could buy.

The knight succumbed, and so too did his killer, thanks to a stray piece of spouting from a nearby chimney falling and cracking open his skull. The entirety of the Knights loot went to the survivors. Josh nodded to himself when no more than five minutes later, a new default character joined the group, and received a share of the Knights loot.

Note to self: don't come back to town if I don't want to lose everything I own, thought Josh wryly. He knew this particular game mechanic was for the best even after witnessing this event. If the towns in this world were all perfect safe havens, no one would ever want to leave them. Not with the risk of permadeath.

There were still some advanced players braving the town though. They mostly moved in packs, and often carried netting and ropes. Presumably to catch any pipsqueak who would dare to try deprive them of their hard earned loot, drag them beyond the town walls and give them a lesson in just how slow one could die in this game world.

Josh was jolted from his reverie as something hairy brushed along his exposed shin. Josh sat up straight in horror, before realising that it was a bushy brown cat rubbing against his legs and mewling for his food.

Josh muttered to himself about getting caught off guard too often, as he tore off a piece of the crusty bread from his sandwich and fed it to the puss. He wondered if he'd be finding long virtual cat hairs on his person for days to come.

Josh liked cats. They were aloof to the whims of man.

“What's your name puss?” Josh cooed, reaching out to scratch the cat behind the ear.

Would you like to give the stray cat a name?

Josh stared at the game prompt before his eyes.

“Well… why not? You can be…” he mumbled as he entered the name.

You have named the stray cat “Boots.”

“Interesting.” Josh said, absently brushing himself down to remove the crumbs that had dematerialised as they fell away from his lips.

Josh hopped down off of his seat, only to look up into the deep black eyes of the cat.  It purred, mere inches away from his face, its whiskers were actually scratching his cheek. It tickled.

He’d forgotten just how small his gnomish form was while perched on the human sized stone bench, which he’d climbed up on to eat his lunch. Part of the reason for his clambering up there had also been to gain a better perspective, looking out at the bustling square. Searching.

“Scram Boots!” Josh huffed. The cat took a step back, but continued to watch him. Josh shrugged “Whatever.”

He looked around, spotted the general shop, and set off toward it. The cat followed. That’s when he noticed a small icon in the corner of his vision. It was a small portrait of Boots, its life bar and name sitting below it, and in parenthesis after its name, the word “Pet”.

Great, Josh thought. If I’m only allowed one pet at a time in this game, I’m gonna have to off the brown fuzzball. Josh wanted to be an evil overlord, but he wasn’t exactly aiming for the title of ’that cat killing psycho.’

Entering the store, Josh was greeted by a portly  bearded man. From down here Josh could see right up the shopkeeper's nose. They really put a lot of detail into the game.

“How can I help you today? Mr Gobiin, is it?” NPCs in the game weren’t falling for his funky spelling. The very code of the characters flowing into their AI processors. Funny that they could serve to automate an entire world, but couldn’t tell how he was abusing their system.  Or maybe they just didn’t care?

“Hello shopkeep!” Josh ventured in his most earnest tone. “I was hoping to peruse your wares.” It couldn't hurt to be nice here, maybe it would lower the cost a little. 

“Of course!” exclaimed the hefty vendor, before a tabbed menu appeared before Josh’s eyes. The menu’s tabs broke the shop’s wares down by category, showing an array of icons within  each. It also had a search function.

Josh quickly pulled together a pile of items for purchase that included: a knife, ten loaves of bread for the road, a waterskin, some blank parchment, a quill and inkwell, ten feet of rope, a shovel, a musty old cloak, and a plain but serviceable dagger.

Josh pushed the pile up on on to the shop's counter, and reached out to hand over the vast majority of his wealth in the game, his four silver coins. In change, Josh received only three copper coins. The coins looked small even in his hands.

It was worth it, Josh knew. With these items, he would be able to strike out through the badlands, and towards his destiny.

Josh thanked the shopkeep and made his way off, through the town's winding streets, toward the town's nearest exit. To call it a gate would have been too grand. The palisade parted to allow a wide road for traffic to flow in and out of the town.  Only a few guards defended each exit. In a pinch a few carts might seal the palisade walls off, but it was no fortress. But why should it be? If you tried to storm it, you’d probably fall victim to the player killing curse and be struck down by lightning or a stray shoe.

Josh stood at the 'gate' for some time staring out. The area around settlements like these were known as badlands because player killers invariably lurked around them, awaiting fresh meat.

Josh would need to quickly traverse the territory. He definitely couldn’t afford to camp out in the badlands. While his tiny legs could carry him along as fast as anyone else, and his small stature should make him harder to spot from a distance, Josh was alone, with no one to watch his back.

As if in response to the thought, Boots slinked up beside him, sat back on its hind legs and meowed. Staring off into the distance, the cat looked bored. Josh could easily forget this plump brown string of code was not real. He scratched the puff ball behind the ear, and then stopped suddenly. A devious grin began to spread across Josh’s face. Boots looked at him with an expression of feline curiosity.

Pulling out his length of rope, Josh began to tie knots. He enjoyed that the game both accommodated the physics of tying knots that Josh had learned from his boy scout obsessed father, and yet sped up the process, intuitively finishing any knot he started. Josh supposed this feature existed to give players more time to play, and not fumble their way through tasks like they do in real life.

Finished with his knots, Josh sidled up to Boots, and then quickly entangled the cat in his creation. The cat mewled, and Josh took a moment to admire his handy work, before vaulting himself onto Boot’s back, crying out “YEE HAA!” and kicked the cat into a run.

The guards and passers by stopped to stare at the little yellow goblin, as it rode off at speed into the badlands, perched atop what seemed to be a fat brown alley cat.

* * * *

Josh had ridden awkwardly, falling off ungraciously every few minutes at first, then less and less as time went by. Now as he rode, sun twinkling on the horizon, Josh hadn't fallen in nearly half an hour.

Congratulations! You have unlocked the hidden pet riding skill. Through perseverance, hidden skills can be obtained!

Josh relaxed muscles he didn't know he had, and in reality probably didn't have. He'd been tempted to tie himself to the cats frame, but had settled for tucking his knees behind the taut rope that hugged it so tightly. Now Josh could actually rest his feet in the hastily made rope stirrups, as the cat gently loped through the badlands.

The area had been stripped of all resources long ago, a scorched earth policy leaving little in the way of shelter in the badlands. Nowhere to hide.

Cracked dry dirt, old ruins and burnt tree stumps greeted his eyes in every direction.

Once or twice Josh had spotted small groups of players lurking in the distance. He had effortlessly avoided most of them on his nimble mount. However, on one occasion, just after one of his falls from the saddle, Josh had seen a large and ugly gray orc running toward him.

Not one to freeze, Josh had jumped back onto Boots and, clinging to the cat’s fur by sheer will, had escaped his pursuer by mere feet. That had been over an hour ago.

Josh wasn’t going to deceive himself. He was weak. A tiny newbie with base stats, cheap equipment and, and his only ally was his fat brown cat.

Now that he was able to relax, Josh decided to take some time and examined some of his newly bought gear.

Old Iron Dagger. This 13 inch piercing weapon is deadly, but unremarkable.

Unremarkable meant that the weapon didn’t have any special traits. It wouldn’t seek the opponent’s heart, or glow blue when orcs were near, which he could have told without examining it, as the barely sharp lump of iron hadn’t left his belt during the near miss.

Weapons in Control didn’t come with stat bonuses, as such. Instead, what mattered was where you stuck it in your opponent. After all, why should a leg wound deal more damage than slicing the opponent’s throat? That’s why sneakiness and cunning were great traits in this world.  

Having said all this, a steel weapon would hold a sharper edge, be lighter to hold, and look better.

The closest thing weapons had to stat increases in Control were enchantments. Magic was supposed to allow for all kind of unique alterations. If Josh had to chose, he’d take the enchanted iron weapon over the steel one any day of the week. Hell, maybe even a bronze one.

Josh moved on to his stack of parchment.

Parchment. 72 pieces. This thick vellum is suitable for map making, holding enchantments, or any other number of writing uses.

Josh flicked on to the next item.

A quill and inkwell.

Josh snorted. He didn’t know what he’d expected there.

A map of the Beaufort area.

The map showed the town’s tiny outline, the badlands, and at the edges, hills and forested areas.  Josh could see a green dot. Him, a blue dot right next to it. Boots. And, just as he was looking at their dots, several red dots blinked into view. Shit, Josh thought.

Looking up, Josh confirmed with his own eyes that there were several mounted figures coming toward him, hundreds of feet away.

Boots might be able to outrun a pedestrian orc, but he was liable to be trampled if he was given chase by real horses.

Josh had thought this might happen, and he had only one idea on how to deal with it.

“Well Boots. Here goes nothing.” Surreptitiously sliding out of the makeshift saddle, Josh positioning himself behind Boots. Josh reopened his inventory and pulled out his parchment and inkwell. Josh started to draw.

Josh was no artist, but an orc’s face started to emerge on the parchment. He was out of time though, so he rushedly finished, while scrawling REWARD! 10 Silver! Across the top.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” Asked a bulky member of the mounted troop who were  now upon him.

“OH! Thank the heavens! I am saved!” cried out Josh. “Would you hear out my sorry story, noble traveller?” He hoped that was how this world’s NPCs talked in this kind of situation, otherwise he was toast.

“What’s the matter little Goblin?” asked a beautiful robed elf. Josh assumed she was a priestess to one of the world’s pantheon. “And what have you done to that poor kitty?”

“Not I, oh great priestess, but the filthy orc!” Josh proclaimed, holding up the reward poster he had so hastily drawn, not moments ago. “The orc came and stole my father’s horse! It is terrible. The horse was desperately needed to carry our family’s wares to market. If I don’t get it back, he’ll surely kill me.” Josh looked down, trying to hide his face, for fear they would see the human intelligence behind his eyes.

“...And the cat?” The priestess asked dryly.

Josh was lost for words. He looked at Boots and realised that his cat was tied up in his rope saddle. SHIT! Josh thought, before attempting to recover.

“Why, but… that was the orc! He tried to steal my beloved Boots too! But between his claws and my dagger, the Orc must have decided it wasn’t worth it, and made off my father’s horse. Please kind lady. Help me get it back. There is of course a reward!” Josh hoped the mention of money would help distract from the stirrups and reins that Josh had fashioned, the features still hanging from Boot’s back.

“Do you have the silver?” Asked the brute next to the priestess. Apparently, these two were the only ones to talk in the five person crew.

“Alas.” said Josh, “I do not, but my father resides in Beaufort. Take this reward notice with you, and give it to my father, who lives by the general store on the main square.”

“Alright. Could never hurt to have a few extra coin..and maybe a free horse.” Muttered the brute to his comrades behind him. Josh pretended not to hear.

“Oh thank you! Thank you all!” Josh exclaimed, before turning away from them, to stare into the distance, as if searching for the orc and his horse.

The troop began to ride away, but Josh stood there, unflinching until they were out of earshot. Josh let out a long sigh. Lesser GobIin had been the right choice.

“Come on Boots. Let’s get into the safety of forest and find a place to rest for the night. I’m no thespian, and I could really use a beer.” Josh said as he mounted his fluffy steed, and set off onward, toward the edge of the forest, just visible in the distance.