Chapter 1

Friday night was for Magic, and I was no stranger to the game. My heart was racing as we reached the end of the final timed round and I struggled to maintain a calm facade in order to not give anything away to my opponent. Turning the dice that lay on the card to my right, I ticked down Karn to summon another construct, raising my total artifact count to 7 before tapping my creatures to attack, then leaning back in my seat. The game has been a little slower than I would have liked, but even against a blue and white control deck, I still managed to stabilize and eke out a win.

From across the table I watched Jeff’s eyes do the math, check the cards laid out in front of him, then count on his fingers to double check again.

“Take it,” he said. “Good game, Taylor.”

I offered my hand to Jeff and we shook.

I remembered a time when I hadn’t been as gracious in my victories. Carl, the owner of X Gen Comics, had pulled me aside one night for a little heart-to-heart chat. In truth, he had put the fear of God, or worse, exile from the store, in me, but he had also made me realize that there was a joy in playing and, from time to time, everybody lost. That was also the day I saw my first Black Lotus, experienced the losing side of a turn-one win and had to forfeit my foil Teferi to something called ante and old-school rules.

Tonight had been a good night with most of my matches going over thirty minutes with a few extremely close calls. I had spent the last three months trying to collect the twelve cards I needed to give this combo a good chance of firing. It wasn’t a perfect build, but I felt better about playing it than any of the net decks out there.

Carefully packing up my deck and dice, I listened to the murmur of the people around me doing the same. Jennifer, the only, and therefore hottest, girl in the room, was trying to get some tips and pointers from Jesse who was blushing bright red and stammering about how the new meta favored boggles. I felt bad for the guy. Jesse had a photographic memory for Magic cards and knew every combo. He could build a deck in any format but couldn’t connect with people about anything outside the comic book shop. There were a couple guys in the room that could talk for hours about different cards and strategies, though conversations about anything else was severely lacking.

It wasn’t completely Jesse’s fault. What Jennifer lacked in deck building talent she made up for in… girl talent. I doubt she even realized the effect her knit sweater was having on the guys around her. Or, she knew exactly what she was doing and that was how she could maintain her ranking during the tournaments. The way her sweater’s V-shaped neckline drew the eye downwards to the ample swells, barely contained by the red bra that was ever so slightly revealed when she leaned forward. The contrast of pale skin to black sweater and the way it moved when she laughed reminded me of the artwork on the angels and demons deck I had created last year.

I barely managed to pull my eyes up and away before she caught me staring. Covertly glancing around to see if anyone had seen. I knew I wouldn’t have gotten away so easily if she had been talking directly to me. I wasn’t the most eloquent guy in the world, but I had been exposed to quite a few things over the past two decades and had a working knowledge of basic pop culture. Wikipedia was great to fill in the gaps but applying that knowledge to real world application only helped when you wanted to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel and not get crushed by an anvil.

The staff and judges were wrapping up their closing duties and the lights in the back of the store were already off.

It was dark outside and nearly everybody had shuffled off to their cars, leaving in groups of two and three. The few yellow streetlights in the parking lot only illuminated pockets of the grey pavement.

I stepped outside and regretted not putting on a sweater when the cold air whipped through my “It’s been 0 days since I derailed my DM’s campaign” t-shirt. I would have thought by now, after coming here for so many years, I would have the foresight to plan ahead and bring a jacket or sweatshirt. I was normally the last to leave, and for the silly reason that I didn’t want people to know that my mom was the one that picked me up. In a minivan. That was pink. With Mary Kay on the side. That’s why I gave a rather effeminate squeak when tapped on the shoulder from behind.

“Excuse me, Sir. Sorry for bothering you.”

I turned around quickly, wobbling as I stepped back in surprise.

“Whoa! I didn’t see you there,” I exclaimed, my voice slowly returning back down to a normal register. I could have sworn that I had been alone when I left the store. Carl usually locked up on Fridays and left through the back entrance.

The man before me was older—in his forties or fifties and weathered. No, not just weathered, though his skin was tan and wrinkled. It was something more. I had spent time on a farm when I was growing up and my grandfather had had leathery skin from being outside in the sun day after day. There was always a kindness in my grandfather’s eyes though that added note of mischievousness and wisdom. This man had the rough skin and deep furrows, but there was only a calculating look in his eye. He was shorter than me, but only slightly. It was difficult to tell much because of the long dark jacket he wore. I never got into the steampunk scene, but was familiar with it, and this man looked like he stepped out of the eighteen hundreds.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” the old man said evenly.  “I just wanted to congratulate you on some well-played games.”

“Uh, thanks,” I said, not sure what to make of this stranger standing in front of me. I always felt weird when speaking with people I didn’t know.

 “You’re Taylor, right?” It didn’t sound like a question. “My name’s Anthony.” He didn’t extend his hand and I heard a slight hitch in his voice before he had said his own name, as if sounding it out for the first time. “Do you enjoy games?” 

The conversational transition was abrupt, setting off red flags in my mind. I’d seen the news lately and an older man asking me if I liked games late at night sounded like butt stuff and, while I was open to people doing what they want, I wasn’t open to them doing it to me.

“Look,” I started, “I’m just waiting for my ride. My mom is on her way.” Safety was overriding my desire to look cool. Hell, there was no one here to look cool for. It’s not like Jennifer was staying late or parked close by waiting to take me out to coffee. I quickly glanced around just to make sure her blue civic wasn’t in the parking lot.

Anthony continued as if I hadn’t spoken, his voice measured and solid. “Let me explain. I’m a game designer, tabletop, board games, computers, etc. I came here looking for alpha and beta testers.”

I perked up at that, butt fears forgotten. I had had an opportunity to be one of the first ones to play a Kickstarter deck building game about a year ago. Bringing it to the comic book shop had made me the most popular guy for a solid week. I had been on the lookout for another chance to get in on the ground floor of another popular release.

“What type of game is it?” I asked.

“It’s a new one. A world you can explore and live in, a world like this, but more real; more true. The consequences of your actions matter and are longer lasting.” His voice gained an intensity that I could feel, and he leaned in conspiratorially. “You can be anyone, write your own destiny, and create your own future.”

This sounded exactly the type of game I loved. I had played all the MMOs and RPGs I could get my hands on, often spending hours lost in all the story lines. The story was always the first thing that captured my attention.

“What console is it for?” I asked, not getting my hopes up just yet, but also not able conceal my interest.

“All of them,” he said after a moment, his eyes looking up and to the right thoughtfully.

“A cross platform game?” I said. I could feel my pulse racing. My PC was a decent build, but the graphics card was 3 generations behind and I was always more comfortable with a PS4 controller. Another problem with my last game was that it was only for a single console and it limited the amount of people on a server to fifty. There was little point of playing in a massive online world if there wasn’t anyone there to play with you.

I’d always found that the more people in a game the better. My last game had amazing graphics, but the repetitive nature of the computer-generated characters and low-level artificial intelligence took the enjoyment out of playing. I had heard rumors of an online game where there were no non-playable characters, or NPC’s. Supposedly, even the shopkeepers and guards were actual people.

Normally, in the computer games, there was a whole society of computer-generated characters that you could buy supplies from, receive quests, or interact with in a limited way. It was great in the beginning when a strong gust of wind could knock your level 1 character into an early demise, but it became boring quickly when every guard you met asked if someone had taken your sugar cookie. Playing a game where everyone was real with their own motives and objectives would be incredibly more immersive, especially now that game money and real-world money was so fluid.

“Cross platform?” Anthony paused, thinking about his words before responding. “This game transcends consoles and platforms. It’s more like life, but there is no pause button.”

“So, it’s a VR game.” This was sounding better and better. A fully immersive virtual reality game with cross platform was unheard of. Being an Alpha tester on a new game would give me a huge head start when it became mainstream and everyone was playing. “How can I get a copy of it? Is there a download code?”

Anthony’s eyes stared into me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable again. “I have to know that you are completely serious about this.” He paused again. “Do you give your word that your mind, body, and soul want this?”

I had met a couple game designers before, and they were all a bit weird. When you put that much time into something, you wanted to know that people would appreciate it and not just put it on the shelf or spend five minutes playing and then give it a bad review. It was still a little weird, I admit.

“I give you my word,” I said, trying to project an air of solemnity. I looked Anthony in the eye as I spoke. This close from him I could see that his eyes weren’t focused on me. His pupils were shifting, moving back and forth like he was reading.

The moment the words left my mouth, I had a sudden feeling that I should have asked more questions. The answers I had received hadn’t told me anything about what I was getting into.

Anthony took a flip phone from his pocket, opening it with his thumb and started speaking in a language I didn’t understand. I felt a tightness radiate from my chest. It wasn’t painful, but it was tangible. I could feel every inch of my skin at once and it seemed to pull inwards towards the middle of my stomach.

Anthony continued speaking into his phone, ignoring me. I didn’t understand the words, but I could tell that whoever was on the end of the line was frustrating Anthony.

The tightness in my chest intensified and panic begin to take hold when I wasn’t able to take a step back. My vision began to cloud and I felt like I was being turned inside out.

This can’t be happening, I kept thinking to myself. This is just a normal Friday night and this can’t be happening. The pain was undeniable and ratcheted up again. Questions ran through my mind. Why me? Why was this happening? That line of thought quickly changed to how. I couldn’t fathom how this old man was doing this to me.

I struggled to move. It was a challenge, but with a surge of strength I took a step forward.

Anthony was ignoring me, speaking faster in his phone.

My temper flared and the edges of my vision grew dark. The anger of being dismissed and snubbed overrode the pain coursing through my body. My arm felt like it was moving through water as I lifted it up and flailed it toward Anthony. I didn’t have any fighting skills and didn’t even try to form a fist or punch him. I just wanted the pain to stop and for Anthony to stop disregarding my presence.

My open hand connected with Anthony’s face, knocking the phone out of his hand.

Something hit my hip and settled there. Just as the blackness closed in and, for the briefest of moments, before the world disappeared, I saw emotion on Anthony’s face. He looked pissed.