Yo, Silkies!

Just want to thank all of you for sticking around even though my Meta Mercs adventure is getting off to a rough start.

If you were on the stream when I got eaten by a dire lion, I will tell you that it sucks a lot worse than it looks. I don’t know why the devs felt like they had to make the Haptics feel like real animal bites an’ shit, but they nailed it.

That’s not the suckiest turd that your pal Silky has stepped in, though. I teamed up with another noob named Blackrune, and there were some friendly fire issues with a pretty big Clan.

Well, the biggest Clan. Afterlife. You heard of ‘em? I hadn’t, but now I owe them because I wanted to keep them from getting Blackrune banned from the game.

Speaking of…here’s Blackrune. Back from his friendly-fire lockout. Wave to the people, bud. Woot,woot! See how you’re not banned? That means you owe me big time.

He says no problem. But we still have to get through the initiation. So, I wouldn’t say there’s no problem.

—

I met Blackrune outside the common barracks about twelve hours after he died. Bans can be avoided or appealed, but the game is pretty strict on complete lockouts when it comes to friendly fire in the safe zone.

“So, your clanmates said I can join,” he asked, now wearing the Ouroboros starting gear instead of his guard uniform, “but we both have to get hazed?”

“That’s what I said.”

Blackrune’s eyebrow arched. “Even though you’re already a member?”

“It’s my punishment for getting involved and pissing off Afterlife, I guess.”

His shrug told me the questions were over, but since he was walking beside me without a helmet — as most players did in the hub — his expression was clear.

I’m sure that had a lot to do with either guilt or gratitude. In Blackrune’s eyes, I’d done him a kindness, come to his rescue. He didn’t understand why I needed to be punished in the first place.

But I saw how the leader of Afterlife looked at Blackrune’s corpse. And how he looked at me, a worthless, low-level player in a ‘Clan’ that couldn’t even fill a raid roster. I drew the wrong kind of attention, so it all made sense.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

***

I expected our initiation to take place on the other side of a portal, but Jim made us fully aware of what a waste of resources that would be. Portal raids involved time locks, yes, but they could also require an outlay of credits or even precious faction points.

The latter were earned by every player in Ouroboros and put into a shared pool. The controlling Clan — now I was well aware of their name — could use faction points to upgrade the Hub, apply world bonuses, or unlock special portals. While nothing stopped other players from using these points on their own, spending more than you earned was…heavily frowned upon.

From what Tony had told me, players have been blacklisted and worse for getting greedy with the points.

“We’re doing this in the training center,” Jim explained, holding up an arm to showcase the huge, cube-shaped building near the barracks.

Whereas the barracks looked Brutalist and severe — all concrete, square windows, and straight lines — the training center was a windowless, gray block with a single red double-door for access.

“We’re taking you into an instance that simulates a rainforest,” he continued. “Tony and I will be defending a small encampment in the center of the map.” He pointed first at me, then at Blackrune. “You two have spawn points outside the perimeter. Your initiation is to run at least ten attacks within thirty minutes.”

Blackrune raised his hand. He looked underprepared in the gray jumpsuit and thin flak jacket that were issued to all new players. “That’s ‘Tropic Heat’ — a King of the Hill map, right?”

Jim hesitated. “Yeah.”

“So, what if we overtake the camp and hold it?”

Tony and Jim exchanged glances, then shrugs.

“Sure. You pass your initiation,” Tony responded. “But don’t count on that. Make your ten assaults.”

My eyes snapped open as the purpose behind the strange rule clicked into place.

“Wait,” I said, “so you’re looking for each of us to get killed ten times? That’s the real test here?”

Jim smirked. “Pretty much. Hell, if you want to make it easy, you can just walk up ten times and we’ll frag you.”

“But don’t do that, bro,” Tony cut in. “That’s fucked up. At least try.”

Strange, but it didn’t seem like Tony was on board with the initiation at all. Too much of a sadistic edge, I’d guess. But from the look on Jim’s face, he must have thought he was some kind of hazing genius.

“I’m guessing the Haptics are on?”

Jim nodded. “Level three, just like in the portal.”

“Oh, come on,” I said, palms up in front of me. “I get that it’s an initiation, but this is more like torture. Line up and get shot?”

At that moment I remembered why I didn’t much like Jim. Technically, he was more Tony’s friend than mine. We’d bonded over countless hours of gaming, sure, but given enough time he would always circle around and show his ass.

Now, he was really showing it. A big, red, baboon ass of poor friendship.

It wasn’t sitting right, but just as I turned to Blackrune to tell him he could opt out, my new buddy stepped forward, puffed out his chest, and said, “Let’s get it over with.”

For a guy who just got shot in the head less than a day ago, he didn’t look scared at all.