The walls ground to a halt and reversed. The pedestal and the stone vanished.

Air rushed out of Ted’s lungs. That had been too close. Without Gramok, no way he would have gotten it in time. He’d have kept going, right up until the very bitter end.

“Don’t mention it,” Gramok said, clapping him on the back. “I’ll be sure to remind you on a regular basis.”

Ted snorted and shook his head. “Would that be before or after the tenth flagon?”

Gramok tilted his head, and that grin rushed back. “Between the second and third flagons, and then again on the seventh. Yeah, that sounds about right.”

The next door slid open, revealing another room with three wooden chests, each engraved with one of their names. Behind the chests was a circular hole in the wall, about a yard wide, an entrance to a tunnel heading down.

Another set of concepts pushed into Ted’s mind.

Access granted. Personalized rewards. An instruction to enjoy.

Cara darted forward, clenched her side, and slowed to a hobble. “You guys argue all you want. I’m grabbing my loot.” She paused and looked at Ted. “It’s not a trap, is it?”

He frowned. Nothing looked dangerous. The chests didn’t even seem magical. “I don’t think so. Let me go first, anyway.”

He stepped into the room, and nothing happened. He approached the chest with his name on it.

His heart kicked up a notch. What would be in there? With how powerful the Zelnari had been, it could be anything.

He took hold of the lid and peeled it back.

A small purple crystal, hexagonal in shape and encased within a golden frame. Only a little magic ran through it. All this for a crystal?

Ted bent down and picked it up. It was lighter than he expected. He reached out with his magic and touched it. What little power it had swelled and a wave of Zelnari concepts filled his awareness. Too complex to decipher, but magic and learning came up time and again.

A data storage device? He thought about forward, and another wave of concepts rushed forth. Backward, and it returned to the previous set of concepts. A book, of sorts.

Giddy flutters quivered in his chest. A magic book about magic, from the Zelnari.

He looked back at the others. “It’s safe, as best I can tell.”

Cara skipped up to her chest and yanked it open, revealing a bow-shaped slot. She tilted her head and held her bow above it. The slot was a perfect match. She hesitated, shrugged, and dropped it in.

Magic seeped into the bow. White, glowing lines coiled up from the nock of each limb, working their way inward. They met at the grip and the glow dimmed, leaving the lines behind. Cara lifted the bow out of the slot and stroked it, a wide smile lighting up her face.

Gramok grunted and kicked open his chest. He stared into it and scoffed.

What had he gotten that was so bad?

Ted peered over. Ah.

Gramok scuffed his foot across the floor. “She gets her bow enchanted, you get a magic crystal, and what in Dromagar’s clutches do I get? A lute.”

“A magical lute,” Ted said. As if that made it better.

Another scoff. Gramok lifted out the lute, pulled it to his chest, and strummed out a series of beautiful chords.

Cara raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you could play.”

“I can’t. No matter how much I begged, Father never let me learn an instrument. Waste of time, he said.” Gramok strummed another few perfect chords, and a grin worked across his face. “Couldn’t play, anyway. What’s your bow do?”

“My bow?” She held it up and nocked an arrow. “I think…” The white lines across the bow turned red and the tip of her arrow ignited. She licked her lips and grinned. “Yup. Elemental arrows!”

Ted found himself staring at the tunnel at the back of the room. It stood out like a sore thumb. Why was it here?

The tunnel was perfectly round and smooth, as if cut by lasers, but there were no burn marks. It headed down at about a 15-degree angle, but where to?

Gramok’s eyes lit up as he stared at Cara’s new bow. “Cool! Can you do other elements?”

The red lines of Cara’s bow turned white, and the fire turned to frost. “Yup!”

The hole. Why was it here? Pain dug into Ted’s palms.

“Sweet,” Gramok said. “Cost much mana?”

The glow and the frost faded. “A bit, but not a lot. Totally worth it!”

Ted unclenched his fists. “That hole isn’t meant to be there.”

Cara scanned the wall, looking across it again and again like it wasn’t unmissable. “What hole?”

“What hole?” Ted walked up to it and pointed. “This hole!”

They both stared back at him.

“Can’t you see it?”

Gramok shook his head. “There’s nothing there.”

Was it related to the System?

Ted swallowed. This had to be what he had found. “This is what we’re looking for.”

Cara shook her head. “There’s nothing there.”

It had to be a good sign that they couldn’t see it, right? “Trust me.” He crawled into the smooth tunnel and stared down it. The end wasn’t visible. How far did it go?

Cara gasped. “Where did you go?”

“I told you, there’s a tunnel.” He backed up and out again. “Go on.” Ted gestured to the tunnel entrance. “It’s there, whether you can see it or not.”

Her eyes narrowed. She approached and kicked the tunnel entrance. Her foot bounced off where the wall would have been. “See? No tunnel.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Ted sighed. It figured. Nothing could ever be that easy. “Alright. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Just get Gramok to play a song or something.”

A melodic chord filled the air and Gramok grinned. “Not the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

Cara glowered at Ted. “Stay safe. Come back soon.”

“I will.” Hopefully. He crawled back into the tunnel and made his way down it.

A void tugged at his heart. This had to be what he—what his father—had found. How he’d taken control of an empire.

Assuming he had, that was. What if he had the position, but none of the power? Had he spent the last thirteen years trapped in a hellish existence, emperor and prisoner all at once?

The tunnel was more like polished marble than rock. Had this been done by magic? Why couldn’t the others see it?

Too many questions. Maybe he’d finally find some damned answers at the end of the tunnel, however long it was.

He crawled through the cramped tunnel that went on and on. It couldn’t go on forever, could it?

He thought back to the looping space beneath the battlemage temple. Maybe it could.

No. There had to be answers here. There had to be.

Eventually, light appeared at the end of the tunnel. He chuckled and crawled faster. The end approached, leading out into a whiteness that glowed more than it illuminated.

He exited the tunnel and looked around the small room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all that strange white. Everything other than the black panel that covered most of the back wall.

A shiver ran down his back. The room was wrong. He frowned. No shadows, none at all. Purely ambient lighting, except for the shine on the black panel. They weren’t even trying to make this place seem real.

Maybe that was the point. But who were “they”? The System? Or the people behind the System?

He approached the panel. It lit up white, and Orcish runes appeared in clear black text. Ted’s heart leaped into his throat. A computer! But why was it in Orcish?

Unless…

Could it be? Ted swallowed. Maybe. It certainly wasn’t a human construction. Maybe it had support for Common, but why would you include a made-up language for a computer that NPCs could never reach?

Maybe Common was another orc language, a lingua franca that they had repurposed in-game, but Ted doubted he’d be so lucky.

He stared at the screen. He couldn’t make heads or tails of the Orcish runes, but he was pretty sure it was a touch screen. One of those symbols at the top could be “languages” and he’d never know.

He glanced back at the tunnel. Gramok could teach him some Orcish, but crawling back up all that way back was definitely more of a plan B.

If they were this advanced, they had to support voice activation. “System, please switch this display to Common.”

No response.

Ted frowned. Did it need to be spoken to in Orcish? Or would another real language work? He switched to English. “System, please switch this display to English.”

A crisp, professional voice replied in English, not quite male or female. “Greetings, Edwin Williams. I am Virtual Customer Service Agent Alex, and I have been assigned to your case. Unfortunately, English is not currently supported for text-based input.”

Weightless flutters flapped through Ted’s chest. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This didn’t necessarily mean he was saved, but there had to be a chance, right?

The androgenous voice spoke again. “As part of our Dynamic Accessibility Program, English voice-based assistance is available on an as-is basis. Please refer to the Terms and Conditions in Standardized Orc Language Alpha for full details.”

As-is basis? Shit. Was his life in the hands of an agile-developed beta program? He should have picked up more Orcish when he had the chance.

“Your presence in this Shard is a violation of the Krotan-Oskagok Act. Filing police report.”

Ted’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed. No matter where he was, the world sure loved to screw him over. At least they sounded like Orc names. Maybe he’d luck out and be outside their jurisdiction.

Yeah, right.

“Error. Reporting system inoperative. Please exit the Shard and present yourself to a law enforcement officer.”

An error in his favor, at last. He cocked his head. “Exit? Can I exit? Go back to Earth?”

“Error. Vital signs not detected. Physical body not detected. Escalating to higher-tier support. Thank you for your patience.”

He kicked the wall. It didn’t even have the decency to hurt. This place was all kinds of wrong.

A lump formed in his throat. If his body wasn’t here, where was it? Still on Earth? Ted’s chest tightened. If so, either he was dead or racking up a hospital bill that’d make him wish he was.

Ted shook his head. That didn’t fit the facts. It stood to reason that the same thing had happened back then, and they’d never found a body. Wherever his body was, it wasn’t lying around on Earth.

A similar but different voice filled the room, equally androgynous and dull yet firmer, with a hint of British aristocracy. “Apologies for the delay, Edwin Williams. I am Virtual Customer Service Supervisor Sage, and I have been assigned to your case. I see that you are having some difficulties. Please stand by.”

Difficulties. Ted couldn’t help but laugh. Difficulties. Good to know that the future of customer service was just as euphemistic and crappy. “Being abducted is a bit more than difficulties.”

“Analysis of your difficulties is in progress. Edwin Williams, you were not abducted. Your consent to be uploaded into this Shard is on file. Do you wish to review it?”

“Consent?” Ted laughed, shaking in disbelief. “I never asked for any of this!”

“Your consent and privacy with regards to real-life characteristics and information are protected by high-level directives. Do you wish to review your consent for upload?”

What kind of dumbass had coded this? It certainly wasn’t passing any Turing tests. Super advanced AI, and this was the best they could come up with for customer service? He snorted. Some things never changed. “Sure, whatever.”

Darkness spread across the white walls. A scene emerged and surrounded him in full 3D with perfect parallax, no matter how he turned his head.

Nighttime in a narrow Earth street. A figure rounded the corner, sprinting into view. Weight tugged at Ted’s stomach. It was him.

Past Ted doubled over, gasping for air, surrounded by pockets of darkness. The street lights flickered faster and faster. Shadows encircled him. He set his feet wide and settled into a fighting stance.

Ted’s heart sank. He swallowed hard. Why? Why had he said something so stupid?

His past version balled up his fists and bellowed, “Come and get me!”

Silence fell. Ted forced his damp eyes open. His past self was frozen, a reminder right there of that stupid mistake.

No. He couldn’t have known. It wasn’t his fault. Ted stared at the console and growled. All this technology and it couldn’t display in English, or understand blatant subtext? Bullshit. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you damned well know that!”

The image faded back to that unnatural white glow. “Would you like to enable Context-Aware Instructions? The necessary terms, conditions, and liability waivers are available in multiple languages.”

Ted scoffed. “Is one of them English?”

“Unfortunately, English is not currently supported for legal documents.”

Typical. Not that “Context-Aware” sounded particularly safe, either. “Can you enable explicit confirmation of any instructions I give you, other than to provide information?”

“Yes, Edwin Williams. Would you like to enable that now?”

“Yes.” Ted took a deep breath. It was time for answers. “What is this place?”

“This is an Emergency Access Panel.”

Not what he meant, but good to know. “This world. What is it made of?”

“Access denied. That information is classified under commercial, trade secret.”

Artificially created, then? That fit. Sharp pain twisted in his gut. That analysis of his body was taking this long was not a good sign. “Heroes are the only ones that aren’t AI, right?”

“All players are heroes. Be a Hero, become a Legend!”

Ted bit his lip. Definitely a game, at least once upon a time. Not a bad tagline. If it wasn’t for the being stuck part, it’d be worse than crack on Earth. Hell, if it wasn’t for Death’s ridiculous bargains, a lot of people would probably sign up for being stuck here.

Had he chosen to be stuck here?

Ted’s breath quickened. His hands balled up. He gasped for air. Fingernails stabbed into his palms.

Deep breaths. No need to rush to conclusions, not when he was so close to finding out. “How many players are there in this Shard?”

“Access denied. That information is classified under commercial, sensitive.”

He sighed. It was worth a try. How many more people out there had been kidnapped?

Alright, then what would he have access to, assuming this was a game? “When is the next scheduled maintenance?”

“System maintenance is scheduled in minus 33,614,412 engars.”

Well, that was really reassuring. What was it Death had said? About 32 and a bit hours to a 12 engars? About 90 million hours, or around 10,000 years overdue. That checked out. “Can I send a message to a specific user?”

“Messaging is only available between mutual friends. Currently, you have 0 friends. Friend requests can be sent using the neural implant application. Neural implant not detected. We recommend the Gratorak 16 Max implant for maximum efficiency!”

Couldn’t find his body but could try to sell him an upgrade. Ted chuckled. Almost like being home. Almost.

“Analysis complete. Your physical form has been uploaded into an undocumented matter-energy-memory node.”

Ted’s heart raced. Matter-energy-memory? Like, a transporter buffer? His chest pulled tight. Hopefully it wouldn’t run into any degradation issues, but “undocumented” wasn’t a good sign. “Can it be reversed? Can you send me home?”

“Running diagnostic. Diagnostic complete. Matter-energy converter is 100% functional. Edwin Williams, should I initiate your return to Earth?”