Ron's heart raced as he made his way through the winding roads of Maine, the crisp fall air swirling around him as the vibrant autumn leaves danced in the wind. The picturesque town, nestled between the rugged coastline and the lush forests, was unlike any place he had ever been before. The streets were lined with charming clapboard houses and quaint storefronts, all adorned with pumpkins and autumn wreaths. The salty scent of the ocean mingled with the earthy aroma of the surrounding woods, creating a sensory experience that left Ron feeling both invigorated and nostalgic.
As he drove deeper into the town, he caught glimpses of the rocky shoreline, the crashing waves sending sprays of saltwater into the air. The lighthouse at the edge of the cliffs beckoned to him, its beacon casting a warm glow across the rugged landscape.
Soon, he drove into Martha's neighborhood. The quaint streets were lined with charming houses, each with its own unique character. Some had vibrant gardens overflowing with colorful flowers, while others had cozy porches perfect for sitting and watching the world go by.
As he drove further into the neighborhood, he saw children riding their bikes down the street and families walking their dogs. The sound of birds singing in the trees filled the air and the occasional car driving by added a peaceful hum to the atmosphere.
Ron pulled up to Martha's house and stepped out of his car, taking a moment to stretch his legs and take in the view. The house was a cozy cottage with a white picket fence and a well-maintained garden. The sound of a nearby stream added a calming ambiance to the scene.
As he walked up the path to the front door, Ron couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia for the small-town atmosphere. It was a stark contrast from the bustling city life he was used to, but he found himself drawn to the simplicity and charm of it all.
Finally, he reached the front door and knocked.
Martha opened the door, revealing a cozy interior with warm lighting and soft furnishings. She was a petite woman with curly brown hair that fell to her shoulders. She was dressed in a simple blue dress with a white apron tied around her waist. Her face was lined with wrinkles, but her bright green eyes sparkled with warmth and kindness.
"I'm so glad you made it, Ron. It's good to see you," she said, greeting Ron with a warm smile and a tight embrace before ushering him inside.
Ron took a deep breath, taking in the familiar scent of Martha's home. It had been years since he had last visited, but everything felt just as he remembered it. He stood at the doorway, his eyes glancing around the house where he used to come to spend time with his pal, Andrew. He was of average height with broad shoulders and a muscular build. He wore a navy jacket over a white t-shirt and khakis. His dark hair was cut short, and he had a light beard that framed his sharp jawline. His brown eyes were intense and piercing.
"I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral," Ron said, taking off his jacket and hanging it on a hook by the door. "I didn't even know he had passed until you called."
"It's okay, Ron. I know you would have been there if you could. Andrew would have understood," Martha replied, leading him into the living room.
Ron sat down on a plush armchair, looking around the room. The walls were adorned with family photos and paintings, and a cozy fireplace crackled in the corner. Martha sat down opposite him in another armchair, looking at him with a gentle, loving expression as if reminiscing memories of the past.
“Oh, my. Where’re my manners,” Martha smiled. "Can I get you something to drink, Ron?"
"A glass of water would be great, thanks," Ron replied.
As Martha stood up to get the water, Ron took a moment to study her appearance. The dark circles underneath her eyes were barely hidden by the thin foundation makeup she applied and the growing wrinkle showed how weary she had been for the last couple of days. Ron couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for the loss that she had experienced.
Martha returned with a glass of water and handed it to Ron. "Thank you," he said, taking a sip.
They sat in silence for a moment before Ron spoke up. "So, what was in the letter?" he asked, feeling the weight of curiosity on his chest.
"Ron, I'm sorry, but I don't know what's in the letter," Martha said, shaking her head. "I only found out about it when I was organizing Andrew's belongings that were sent to me courtesy of the company."
Ron frowned. "The company sent you his belongings?"
Martha nodded. "Yes, they said it was company policy to send the belongings of an employee who passed away to their next of kin."
Ron sat back, feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, he was grateful that the company had been thoughtful enough to send Andrew's belongings to his mother. But on the other hand, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The fact that Andrew had left him a letter was strange, especially since they hadn't spoken in years.
"Do you mind if I take a look at his belongings?" Ron asked finally.
"Of course not," Martha said, getting up from her seat. "They're in Andrew’s room. Follow me."
Ron pushed open the door to Andrew's room, which was decorated with posters of mythical creatures and epic fantasy battles. The walls were painted in dark shades of purple and black, with a large poster of Metallica hanging above the bed. The room was filled with an eclectic collection of items, including a replica of a medieval sword, a shelf full of Dungeons and Dragons rulebooks, and a stack of fantasy novels.
Ron felt a pang of sadness as he looked around the room. He could almost picture Andrew sitting at his computer, lost in a game of World of Warcraft or painting figurines for his next D&D campaign. It was clear that this room had been his sanctuary, a place where he could indulge in his passions and forget about the stresses of everyday life.
“Those are the boxes the company sent,” Martha said. The beige boxes were lined perfectly by the wall.
Ron nodded absentmindedly, still taking in the room. He walked over to the desk, his eyes scanning the various game manuals and rulebooks scattered across it. On the wall, he noticed posters of various heavy metal bands, including Metallica, Iron Maiden, and Slayer.
"I'll leave you to it then. Take all the time you need. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask,” she said, smiling warmly.
"Thank you, Martha," Ron said.
As Ron began to sort through the boxes, he noticed that they were filled with Andrew's work-related documents and a few personal belongings. There was nothing remarkable about them besides being your ordinary office’s essentials. But for some reason, something just felt odd. Some of the items here didn’t make any sense for someone like Andrew.
“Why is there a Hello Kitty coloring book in here? Did he has a daughter?” he asked himself.
Ron shrugged and set the coloring book aside. He continued to dig through the boxes, pulling out various folders and papers. As he went along, he began to feel overwhelmed. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, and he wasn't sure if he would ever find it. He sat back on his heels, looking at the boxes with a sense of defeat.
Then the crumpled noise of the letter in his pocket gained his attention. Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter Andrew had left for him. He unfolded the piece of paper and began to read. It was a handwritten letter, and he recognized Andrew's scrawl immediately. As he read, the end of his lip began to curve.
“Dear Sauron the Ugly,” the letter began. “Do you want to play a game? Remember that night when Jennie rejected you?” he ignored the unnecessary chuckle in words as he remembered how his friend used to be.
Ron smiled at the memory, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over him. He remembered that night vividly, how he had felt like the world was ending when Jennie rejected him. But Andrew had been there for him like he always had been. They had spent the night playing Dungeons and Dragons, and he remembered the quest they had been on. Then it hit him.
He realized that Andrew had left him a final quest, a challenge to figure out a code that he had left behind. He chuckled to himself, feeling grateful for the gift that his friend had left him. It was a final reminder of the bond they had shared, a testament to the time they had spent together playing games and solving puzzles.
Ron felt a sense of purpose as he set the letter down and began to search through the boxes once again. He knew that the answer to the code was somewhere in these boxes, and he was determined to find it. He got to work, remembering the D&D quest of that particular night. It was a puzzle that was mixed between a word-search puzzle, relational puzzles, and logic puzzles. The puzzle was challenging, but Ron was up for the task. The biggest hint he had was the word ‘Echidna’ the boss monster of that night's D&D quest, and he was quick to grab anything within those boxes that could be related to such a monster.
He worked through the logic puzzles, mapping out relationships between words and phrases, and looking for patterns in the letters. Ron's mind was alive with excitement. He felt like he was back in the game, fighting against the clock to solve a puzzle before time ran out. He could feel his heart beating faster as he drew closer to the solution. Finally, the last key to solving it all was in his hand, the Hello Kitty coloring book. The last letter in ‘Echidna’ which was A referred to a certain character in this coloring.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Aggretsuko?” he counted to the seventh letter and found its corresponding number within the alphabetical order and there it was. Ron solved it.
It was a line of random numbers, but only he knew it wasn’t just random. He ran to the old desktop sitting in the corner of the room and powered it up. It took a bit of time, considering it was still running on Windows 95, but it was what Andrew liked. A separate computer just for D&D and with their meager allowance back in the day, this old computer was all they could afford at that time and it had served them well. He looked up the number through the search bar and found what he was looking for. It was a simple text document. He opened it and immediately he frowned.
“If you are reading this, then I’m dead,” the first sentence alone was ominous. He continued reading and what was next left him more dumbfounded.
“Well, before we get to the main part, I probably should tell you something first. Ron, I’m one of the First Heroes.”
The First Heroes. Those who were blessed by the skies as they were given the power to fight against the portal invaders without going through the Hero Awakening process. They were individuals that came to save the day, saving mankind from extinction. From New York to Tokyo, these people emerged becoming beacons of light for humanity, and with their powers, they held off the invasion and gave humanity a chance to fight for another day and be more prepared.
"The First Heroes? Andrew was one of them?" He couldn't believe what he was reading. A mix of emotions ran rampant within him from curiosity to jealousy. But a certain emotion thwarted the rest, concern. Genuine concern.
It was common for heroes to die while fighting against portal invaders, but not for the First Heroes. They were the strongest and death among them was scarce. Even a single death among them would be known to the whole world and now, his friend who proclaimed himself to be a First Hero was now dead and no news broke?
“You might be skeptical of what I claimed, but believe me, Ron. I am indeed one of the First Heroes, but not the most gifted like James Rogers or Miyamoto Kojiro. The ‘Gift’ given to me is not the flashy fireworks or the mind-boggling muscular strength that transcends beyond humans. Mine is just a shadow beneath the flame. A 'Gift' suitable for the role in the background. A Gift called Mystic Writer. Yes, it sounds lame and it is. Can you believe how dumbfounded I was to get a Gift that couldn’t do anything against those monsters popping out from those freaking portals? I was like any normal guy on the street except for the ability to write glowing letters. Rather than fighting at the frontline like the rest of the First Heroes, I ran and hid until the storm passed.
While those Firsts bathed in the limelight, I sealed my lips of uttering anything about becoming the First Heroes. It was a bummer, but in hindsight, I’m kinda glad I didn’t need to fight. I lived my days like I used to except far away from any known portal.
But something just had to happen, and man, it sucks.
I thought I could tell you at first, but I guess I couldn’t. Even typing on the keyboard felt like pricking needles into my heart. I was devastated, man. I felt like dying most of the time, and even drowning in alcohol wouldn’t make the pain go away. Then things changed. I funnel every grief and remorse I have into my Gift and six years later, here I am. Dead over an experiment.
Well, while writing this, I do have the confidence that it would work though. Not a hundred percent, but perhaps eighty, or was it seventy? Well not that it matters now, since if you are reading this, I’m a hundred percent dead. Either turn into a puddle of blood or zap into non-existence.
Anyway, my work of six years has finally reached the final stage. A project I made after tinkering with Mystic Writer for a couple of months. Surprisingly, the Mystic Writer is sort of a mage who could only affect the natural environment through letters and words. So my magic kinda works only when people read my handwriting, not until I discovered it also works with technology.
Do you get it now, Ron? Besides being a Mystic Writer, I’m also a Mystic Coder. It was tough at first, considering I know little about coding. But I guess the Gift had its own hidden perk, my learning curve of coding skyrocketed and within half a year I was an expert at all programming languages.
Now comes the crux of why I sent the letter to you. The project I built was made with a failsafe in case the first activation turns into a failure. A correction program that will rewrite the whole code of the software into a usable state, using the first failure as the basis of correction.
So there you have it. My failure will be your success, Sauron.
Despite growing distant over the years, every now and then I heard news about you, and I heard about that day. I’m sorry for your loss, Ron and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”
Tears trickled down the keyboard. Ron sat in the chair, his eyes red and swollen as he couldn’t believe what he just read. Andrew who was his best friend back in high school knew of his circumstances and yet he knew nothing about Andrew. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart for not staying in touch with him. But what he could do? The past was the past and nothing could be changed. He continued reading.
“This computer program that I wrote which I dubbed as Arcane Program is a software that could tap into an individual potential and heightened it according to one’s effort…”
Ron stopped. This part of the text felt awfully similar to the deceased CPG member he heard about the other day. But it couldn’t be.
“…I made it similar to how an RPG game work, so you probably wouldn’t have any problem with getting accustomed to it. So the software name is Elder Dragon Fantasy and you can find the shortcut on the desktop screen of this computer. But before you could start the game, you need a power source, and my mom’s house isn’t going to cut it. Get to this address and plug this old junk of ours in the basement. You’ll see what I meant by a power source, and here’s the password to get inside the compound…”
He quickly packed up the computer and made his way to the door, where he was met by Martha. "Is everything okay?” Martha looked concerned, noticing his red swollen eyes.
“I’m good,” Ron said with a forceful smile. “And about the computer, I think Andrew wants to me have it.”
“Ron,” Martha said. Her hand caressed the side of his face. She gazed at him like a mother to a son. “It’s nice seeing you, Ron. Be sure to pay a visit if you have the time.”
Ron looked at Martha, trying to keep his composure. He nodded at her, his heart pounding as he felt a mix of emotions. He was grateful for Martha's concern and affection, but at the same time, he felt a pang of guilt for what he was about to do.
"Sure, Martha," he said, his voice shaky. "I'll try to come by when I have the time."
He quickly left the house, feeling the weight of the computer in his hands. As he walked down the street, he couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. He knew that what he was about to do was dangerous, but he also knew that he had no other choice. Both for himself and for Andrew.
He made his way to his car, his mind still racing. He couldn't wait to try out this program, to see if it really was as powerful as Andrew claimed. He drove to the address and found the compound easily enough. It was a cabin by the lake with glimmering steel fences with a keypad at the entrance, guarded by thick trees and shrubs. The sun was setting, casting an eerie glow on the area, giving it the appearance of a mix between a summer holiday spot and a hidden government facility.
As he entered the cabin, the dust-covered interior revealed that no one had lived here for years. The windows had been boarded up, and cobwebs had formed in every corner. Ron made his way toward the staircase leading to the basement. He stumbled upon another keypad, typed in the password he had been given, and entered the steel door.
The room was pitch-black, but as he entered, the lights flickered on, revealing a vast laboratory filled with books, glowing gems, papers, and hardware servers used for the internet. The lab was cold as if the AC had been turned on since the very beginning. But what caught Ron's attention most of all was the biggest gem at the far end of the lab, floating underneath a glass chamber. The gem was enormous, larger than anything he had ever seen before, and it seemed to pulse with otherworldly energy that he couldn't quite describe.
As he made his way toward the gem, Ron noticed various traces and symbols of CPG scattered around the room. It became apparent that Andrew was indeed the dead CPG member that he had heard about, and he was now standing in the middle of the mysterious lab that his old friend had created.
He looked around and he could imagine Andrew going through the papers and the computers, wracking his brain trying to finish this project of his.
“Hey, Sauron the Ugly.”
Ron heard a familiar voice speaking to him. At first, he panicked, thinking it was a ghost then his eyes were drawn to the computer screen that flickered to life. Revealing a low-resolution 8-bit image of Andrew's face. The image slowly sharpened into focus, and a voice emanated from the speakers, saying, "Please do not be surprised, Sauron the Ugly. I am Andrew's AI, Android."
Ron was taken aback, not expecting to hear Andrew's voice again, especially not from a machine. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. But Android seemed to sense his hesitation and spoke again.
"I know this must be strange for you," Android said. "But I assure you, I was programmed with Andrew's consciousness and his voice. I am essentially him, in digital form. A word of caution though, I’m not a complete form of Andrew as I am merely built as a guide."
Ron was still a little unnerved by the AI's presence, but he couldn't help feeling a sense of comfort at hearing his old friend's voice again. "How... how did Andrew manage to create this?" he asked.
"It wasn't easy," Android replied. "Master Andrew was a genius, but even he struggled with the technical aspects of creating artificial intelligence. He spent years perfecting the software and hardware, using all his knowledge from the CPG to create this lab and me."
Ron nodded, impressed despite himself. "And the gem?" he asked, gesturing to the floating crystal.
"That was one of Master Andrew's most incredible discoveries," the Android said. "It came from another dimension, from one of the portal monsters that Andrew had studied. He used it to power his lab and to fuel his research."
Ron couldn't help feeling a sense of awe at the sheer scope of Andrew's work. He had always known his friend was smart, but he had no idea he had achieved something like this. "So, what do I need to do now?" he asked.
Android paused for a moment as if considering the question. "Plug the computer into the power socket near the glass chamber. The computer will begin to power up the correction program. It will take some time, but once it's ready, the software will be completed without the previous errors."
Ron nodded. He plugged in the computer and Android did the rest of the work. The command prompt burst open on the screen as the correction program began its process. After a while, Android spoke once more.
“It is complete, Sauron the Ugly,” Android said. “The Elder Dragon Fantasy is now ready to be of use.”
Ron was a bit bothered by how Android called him ugly, but he guessed it must be one of those things Andrew put in place just to laugh at him. In a way, it reminded him of the time he spent with Andrew during D&D.
Ron came closer to the old PC and saw the full view of the screen. It was the title screen of Elder Dragon Fantasy with game graphics similar during the 90s. The word ‘Start’ was blinking at the center of the screen as if goading him to press it.
“So is this like playing a game or do I need to wear a helmet or something?” Ron asked.
“No. There are no additional steps as the program is ready to initiate,” Android said. “You only need to click the Start button in the middle of the screen.”
“Okay then,” Ron said. He slowly stepped forward and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest like a drum. His palms grew slick with sweat, and his legs felt weak and wobbly. Every muscle in his body tensed up as he stared at the unseen danger in front of him.
The fear of the unknown and uncertainty that gripped him was palpable, almost suffocating. His mind was consumed with the thoughts of what could go wrong: his body crumbling into dust, his brain scrambling into a pile of mush or his whole existence turned into nothingness.
His breaths came in short, shallow gasps, and his mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow back the lump in his throat. His vision grew blurry, and his ears rang with the sound of his own heartbeat.
Despite all of that, Ron knew he had come too far to back down now. He steeled his nerves and took a deep breath, mustering any courage and vengeance in him to take the final leap of faith. At that moment, he grasped the old mouse and hovered the cursor right on top of the blinking ‘Start’.
He smiled shakily, knowing it was do or die. Then he did it. He clicked the ‘Start’ and the lights went out.