I think this might be it. Seriously.

The image of the Primal Ape standing over the corpse of my character is plastered over my monitor, slowly blurring out as the load autosave option is presented to me. Yet another defeat, but that's fine. The forums were buzzing about another bug, or maybe undocumented feature, buried in the game. Honestly, no one really knows at this point. No game would ever bury its mechanics in so many layers of obfuscation. But the developer has not patched these oddities out, so there's a real chance that all the weird stuff are deliberate inclusions, not bugs.

Alright, I've collected an '?' item. That's the requirement to unlock this new mode, if the forums are to be believed. Unfortunately, there's RNG to contend with. There's no guarantee that the new mode will unlock once I've gone through the steps. And botching the unlock would also corrupt all your save games. I'm cool with that though, I've not made any headway against the Primal Ape, keeping me trapped in the Prologue. There's not much progress to be lost here.

Exit to main menu. That's the first thing you need to do. The game obligingly takes me back to the title screen and I select the start new game option. The character creator fires up, filling the screen with an assortment of faces and body types for my selection. I need to create a new character that is exactly the same as the character that just died. A carbon copy in terms of stats and appearance. I've got my character's original settings jotted down on a piece of paper, so this part's a snap as well.

Next is class selection. Here we go. Selecting a different class for the carbon copy is what officially activates the hidden mode. My character's strength and constitution stats are garbage, since his original class was Sorcerer. Gunslinger would be the best second choice because gun damage doesn't scale off strength. His below average dexterity would still hurt him though.

I click on the select icon, locking in Gunslinger as the character class. Now comes the critical part. The game's intro cutscene will start to play. And I immediately need to jab the escape key to pause it. The forums agree that there's a three second window of opportunity. Fail to meet the time limit, and you'll be locked out of the secret mode for good, short of reinstalling the game.

The screen freezes and I swallow hard. If I've done everything correctly, the RNG should be primed and good to go. All that's left is to load the last autosave of the character that died. There's an incredibly tiny chance that the mode will activate. The forums have been filled with players cursing the loss of their save files. I'm pretty bored with fighting the Primal Ape ad nauseam, so what the hell, I'll give this a shot.

LOADING AUTOSAVE ....

I stare at the screen, watching the loading bar inch upward. Most players experience the save game destroying hard crash at fifty percent. I twiddle my thumbs nervously, watching the loading screen with a laser hot stare.

47%

48%

49%

50%

50%

50%

Oh dear.

51%

And the RNG gods smile on me. The loading bar sprints to completion, like a dam bursting from floodwater. I'm taken back to the scene before the battle with the Primal Ape, with my character idling about the rift camp. I quickly pull up his stat sheet, eagerly looking at the skill tree. The sorcerer skill tree is there, as expected.

But there's a new addition.

A skill tree labelled ASCENSION. With the level one skill already unlocked.

Awakening.

.............

"How are the clothes, Seeker?" Breath's voice rouses me from my daydreaming.

I shake my head, the dark interior of Breath's van coming back into focus. The windows are heavily tinted, preventing anyone on the outside from realizing the van was being driven by a man with a shopping bag over his head. Breath doesn't seem to have any problems with being functionally blind though. He guides the van with practiced ease through the streets of Pay 2 Win, obligingly giving way to an overtaking limo.

"The new jacket's fine." I pat the imitation leather jacket, feeling the thin sheets of ballistic armor woven into it, "It feels light though. Weak."

"No more weak than the antiquated flak vest you were using." Breath shrugs, "And quite a bit more comfortable, I would wager."

"It better be." I grumble, playing with the receipt that came with the jacket, "The price was absolutely exorbitant. I better be able to claim this as an expense once the mission is over."

Breath had brought me to an equipment store so that I could refresh my supplies before starting the mission. I had originally wanted to get my old flak jacket repaired, but the nurse had thrown it out as a piece of junk, forcing me to shop for new armor instead. Seeing the selection in the store, I swiftly realized why the nurse threw out my old armor without hesitation. Compared to what was so readily available, my flak vest was both obsolete and poor quality. Knowing all this didn't stop me from almost feeling physical pain when presenting my charge card to the cashier at the equipment store.

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

"A necessary expense." Breath shrugs, "The ballistic jacket helps you blend in and offers protection in the bargain. I fully approve of your choice, Seeker."

"Not as if I can wear my guild jacket while keeping a low profile." I nod back, "Everything in Pay 2 Win's so expensive though. The markup is simply ridiculous."

"Part of being a tourist town." Breath explains, "Good selection and high prices to cater for wealthy clientele."

"Yeah. I bet." I grunt, loading Love's spare mags with the fresh ammo I had bought, "So, tell me more about this Fat Man. You already have his address. Why do you need me to investigate?"

"Knowing where the Fat Man resides is only part of the problem," Breath begins to speak after a slight pause, "he has a rather unusual ability that complicates matters."

"A class skill?" I raise an eyebrow, "Fat Man doesn't look the type who has gone through training."

"Not a class skill. An ability." Breath clarifies, making a turn and heading deeper into a distinctly poorer neighborhood, "The Fat Man has the uncanny knack of disappearing when he doesn't want to be found."

"Camouflage? Invisibility?" I make a few guesses.

"Nothing like that." Breath shakes his head, "The Fat Man literally disappears. As in he's no longer physically present."

"Teleportation's a high level Warlock class skill." I frown, "Its not insurmountable though. There are ways to block it."

"I know. And I'm capable of blocking teleportation." Breath says, "Whatever the Fat Man is doing isn't a class skill. That's why I can't prevent him from disappearing as he wishes."

"That's pretty troublesome." I rub my chin meditatively, "I'm going to need to corner our target without him knowing it."

"Correct. That's why I hired you for this job, Seeker." Breath confirms, "The Fat Man has no idea who you are, allowing you to approach and ultimately trap him."

"What if the Fat Man tries to use that ability once I've got him against the wall?" I query.

"You have plenty of tools at your disposal," Breath points at my weapons, "I am sure you can do what needs to be done."

"I thought we're just going to ask him a few questions?" I quirk my mouth, "Not really keen on escalating things so far, especially since this isn't a rift."

"Scared of arrest, Seeker?" Breath laughs lightly.

"Who wouldn't be?" I grumble, "You're asking me to corner and maybe rough someone up in a heavily policed town."

"Hm. Yes. The Freelancers Association handles policing here, don't they?" Breath muses, "They might be a bit too much for you to handle."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." I roll my eyes, "But yes, fighting so many people with class skills might as well be assisted suicide."

"It could be your next breakthrough in ascension." Breath says completely seriously, "Don't dismiss the possibilities life gives you."

"Right, forgot about your tribulation whatever it is." I sigh, "You would probably welcome the prospect of getting pounded into the concrete. Call it the tribulation dogpile."

"You make a good point Seeker, sarcasm aside." Breath concedes, "I'll be in the background, ready to provide support if things go bad. Rest assured that the Freelancers Association will not be able to get past me."

"Aren't you a drug dealer?" I demand, pointing at the bags of pills and containers of chemicals stowed in the back of the van, "Can't you mix up something that can knockout the Fat Man?"

"We're going to Peace Hill, Seeker." Breath answers patiently, "That's where the Fat Man stays."

"Peace -" I mutter before realizing what Breath's talking about, "Damn, that's a major tourist spot. Its where the Monument is, right?"

"The anti war sculpture, yes." Breath confirms, "The crowds of tourists would no doubt notice you dragging an unconscious man back to the van. I don't see how that is any improvement over just beating the information out of him."

"Beating the Fat Man up would probably be faster too." I reluctantly agree, "Never mind, I'll play things by ear. Get creative if the situation calls for it."

"The attitude of a professional." Breath replies affably, "I like it."

Both of us sink into silence, lost in our own thoughts. The van putters through increasingly narrow streets, with tour buses parked by the roadside. Peace Hill may be a poorer neighborhood, but its no slum. The folks here do take the trouble of getting everything presentable for the tourists. Rows of low rise flats sprout out at regular intervals, built to accommodate all the blue collar staff needed to keep Pay 2 Win running smoothly. The crowds of pedestrians grow heavier too, as people gradually drift toward the center of the district where the Monument is located.

"You will disembark at the perimeter of Peace Hill Old Town." Breath comments, "That's the closest I can bring you without risking the van being spotted by the Fat Man."

"Got it." I affirm, checking my gear one last time. A Freelancers Association patrol cruiser drives past us, making sure the district is safe for all the tourists.

"I got a question." I mutter to Breath, the sight of the patrol car causing my thoughts to turn morbid, "You went through the Tribulation Lightning."

"Correct." Breath agrees.

"And you got fried." I swallow uneasily, "So what's the difference?"

"The difference of what, Seeker?" Breath asks curiously.

"The difference between being alive and dead." I point out.

"Why don't you tell me, Seeker?" Breath asks the question back, "Didn't you go through something similar too?"

"You know what I mean." I snort, "I avoided experiencing my first death. You didn't. So how is it, now that you're dead?"

"No difference really." Breath shrugs, "The world keeps turning, whether I'm living or dead."

"You can't breathe." I note flatly, "I would say that's a big difference. And you deliberately blind yourself."

"Do you close your eyes, Seeker?" Breath responds, "You deliberately blind yourself every time that happens."

"Strawman." I snort.

"As for me not breathing," Breath continues, "It has made little difference in how I go about my days. So can there even be a distinction in me being dead rather than alive?"

"Giving up the ability to breathe seems a pretty major thing." I remark, "Just saying."

"To a blind man, not being able to see isn't a major thing." Breath shoots back laconically, "What about you? You do not appear too shaken with whatever sacrifice you made to ascend."

"Sacrifice?" I murmur in bewilderment, "I didn't sacrifice anything."

"You most certainly did." Breath presses on, "It is an irrefutable requirement our condition requires."

"I can eat, breathe and shit." I rebut, "All my body parts are present and working. I don't suffer the same limitation as you."

"Or maybe you're the proverbial blind man, Seeker." Breath's voice is unshaken by my denial.

"Not missing something he does not have."