Tenner stood in the very middle of the storage room, glancing back and forth. He turned to the rat-blocking door. A vision of rodents, munching on his privates while he slaughtered an insignificant amount of them, pushed his gaze back to the tunnel of darkness.
He doubted he could break through the gate, doubted everything, claustrophobia crushed him from all directions. Then, his parents appeared from the darkest corners of his mind and filled in the bleakness.
“I wasn’t hunted for half my life to have a kid who couldn’t hunt a few pests.”
“If not for that one rat, you’d be free, don’t you agree? Don’t you want revenge?”
“Return to that fat friend of yours and throw him as a distraction to these things!”
Tenner nodded to every word in his ears. He took a step towards the door. His blood boiled. He waited for a second and put the other foot down.
“What are you waiting for? Your skills are too low? Who cares! The laser-gate did 10 damage. Your 2 strength can annihilate a horde!”
“You’re right…” He muttered. “I’ve got 8 luck. And I’m the greatest player this world has seen.”
“Exactly. Now, don’t wait, son, just do it!”
Tenner turned to smile at his parents. They were gone. The room went silent. Not a sound from outside the door, nor from inside any crate. It hadn’t been silent since the second Tenner entered it.
His glance overlooked every centimeter of the room, grabbing onto every even slightly odd thing. Reflections and shadows seemed to jump at him and what he couldn’t see readied to morph into vile creatures. His muscles tensed to the hardness of a blindfolded Stardestructor match. The air in the room was uncomfortable like someone had barged into a place they shouldn’t have.
Tenner’s hand reached for the holographic handle.
At once, a tsunami of rats slammed into the door. It rattled. Hundreds of tails peaked through the gaps under it. Their eyes glimmered from the CHEK’s light.
This is not my fucking idea. Tenner lowered his plank. Well, it’s a bit of me, but opening the gate is what I’m supposed to do. Rats, I’m honored you needed a horde to drive me away. We’ll never meet again, I hope.
A simple padlock hung off the gate. No one had bothered to put in more sophisticated technologies into an unimportant storage room.
Tenner had seen characters on TV and Jesse pick countless locks. Tenner never tried it. The need never arose. Cards and deception could get him most things. Jesse had mentioned some basics: get something tiny to feel inside the lock and use that to get it open. Tenner turned to the Comandotron he’d pushed out of the way and tried to rip off a metal rod. The rod, which according to a quick eyeball, was the perfect size for a makeshift key, bent and cracked, but didn’t give in.
Tenner pulled until his feet slid on the floor. He stopped for a second’s break, flabbergasted at his strength. He was never this week. The CHEK had to have taken his power.
He swung the plank. Crunching, the top part flew from the makeshift weapon as one of the rod’s edges broke off. Tenner ripped what remained off. Thank my ingenuity, he thought as he crouched in front of the gate. Like he’d estimated, the metal stick fit in the lock. Tenner moved it around, spun it and pushed. The lock released a pair of clunks. The gate didn’t open.
It’s a damn shame this is harder than it looks.
Tenner put his ear up to the cool metal, paying attention to every sound: he couldn’t trust a rod to do what he had to. When his makeshift lockpick came in on a few angles, the lock released a tuck sound, but one particular angle released a click. Tenner pushed hard on that angle and the mechanisms inside started working.
One last glance over his shoulder and Tenner stepped into the dark tunnel, never to see that door, holding a sea of rats, again, yet the scratches could still be heard for a few minutes.
This was the quietest, most isolated place of Tenner’s entire life, the swaths of darkness around clearly morphed and shifted and odd sounds came from odd directions. The nothingness dropped his feelings into the forefront of his mind and the alien thoughts that sneaked in and started pulling strings were so obvious here; he’d certainly let too much of his parents in, but they got what they wanted at any cost they wanted. It’d be foolish not to use their ways for a good cause. Yes, they made Tenner want to crash his head through an amp. And control could slip from him. But he’d know if he ever turned to the wrong side.
Reaching the outside world was scary, too, he admitted. Moreso, not reaching it. The walk of shame back to the neighborhood would kill him.
A sense of weirdness filled the tunnel. Weirdness somehow different from the sewer, the tunnel and the storage room. It couldn’t be on this planet. Somewhere in the middle, this long, dark underpass had to have teleported to the dark side of the moon -- the only place where such an unnerving nothingness could exist.
Alienation. First time I’m away from everyone not by my own choice. And I can’t step out the door to meet someone.
His mind had to fill in the blanks and Tenner started seeing a group of workers entering some hole in a park surrounded by highrises. They walked, magical creatures carrying their tools by their sides, and talked about life. One of them cut random kids’ guitar strings on monday while the other kicked puppies. Or something terrible. They had to be awful people to build a prison for a few hundred people for generations for a reason Tenner couldn’t imagine.
He walked past them all. They stared, their legs trembling -- how could someone get out of their impenetrable prison? Was this the chosen one?!
That’s a little over the top, but I did in fact commit murder so what’s a little power fantasy?
Magical creatures, mystical machines and endless underground facilities. He returned to the present. I’ve known a completely different reality my whole life. All of this shouldn’t be real. It doesn’t want me here. Though no one person, rat or place can order me around. I’ll get out of here. Then learn some musical skills.
For a moment, he fantasized about the outside world. He guessed it would be like--madly, one could say--his parents ranted about. Yeah, they might have been right all along.
The CHEK--a game system that controlled his existence--made him the most uncomfortable. Because he controlled his life. Yet its functionality, most of which he couldn’t access yet, outweighed the downsides of getting tortured every level up and possibly becoming a slave.
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Tenner opened its cold menus.
“Class.”
[You have no class.]
[You are LVL 1 (or above) and are allowed to claim one.]
[Warning: choose wisely -- once a class is chosen, being will remain with it for their entire lives.]
[Classes available:
-Hench
-Bounty Hunter
-Mastermind]
Instead of finding answers, he’d struck the question addict’s gold. Was this it? Only three classes? What’s hench and mastermind supposed to mean? If the CHEK is a ubiquitous device, why are the classes so specific? There’s no way a society can function on masterminds and henches! Did everyone who puts one of these on got to choose between these three classes or were they different for everyone? Or was this device actually rare?
Tenner had to leave a lot of questions in the dark. At the moment, knowing what class did what was more important than the inner workings of society.
[Mastermind -- a class for beings who conceive of high-level schemes, organizations and lead others to do the dirty work for them. Recommended for class: high Intelligence, high charisma, ???? and ????]
That’s vague, but at least not nothing.
[Bounty Hunter -- a class for brutal, efficient, swift and cunning beings who are willing to go through almost certainly unbeatable trials to take out their targets. Recommended for class: high all physical skills, medium all mental skills.]
[Hench -- a class for beings who do the dirty work and let the others do the dirty thinking. Recommended for class: incredibly high physical skills.]
Tenner was quite strong, almost a genius and cunning, to say the least. The biggest problem would be deciding which one of these fields was slightly better than the other two.
A faint light far ahead gave shape to the features of the tunnel’s last stretch. From the same direction, sounds echoed. Not a figment of his fantasy, but too blurred for Tenner to make out what they were.
Tenner hurried his pace. As his right foot landed outside the corridor, he closed his eyes then gave the space he’d entered a look.
Is this… a city? Still impressive.
***
There were thousands of forty-meter tall server towers looming like massive gray apartments. Under the servers and in the gaps between them winded little mazes of pathways. Tenner’s mind and instincts trying to wrap themselves around the sight. Excitement--the same that filled him after a card trick--ran from his gut to his limbs. There could be loot and the truth about the outside world! Tenner sprung forth and entered a narrow path through the server metropolis. His head kept up high: he’d taken a detour and ended up somewhere far better. There could be loot here and the truth about the outside world!
Some sort of mechanism fell out of a server in front, and behind the empty hole left in the tower, somebody rummaged. The part that fell out was in mint condition while on the other side of its server was another path, not a living soul in sight, only a trail of parts on the floor. Tenner wasn’t inclined to investigate such an occurrence, but there was someone else in here, dammit. He took a turn at the crossroad which would either lead him to the tamperer or out of this enormous place. He slowed down and kept his head on the low. No turn could be trusted, no shadow unchecked.
A massive door with a yellow sign above stood at the end of the city of servers. With excitement on his tongue, he mumbled to his CHEK.
[Sign: Server room exit]
Even more excited, he swiped his hand through the holographic handle.
[Error: Auto-open mechanism damaged -- will not open until HP is at min. 90]
The cold screen burned a small hole in his heart. The world was really out to get him. Tenner dropped his grin and banged on the door, cursing and searching for a way to open that damn thing.
Who did this just to waste my time and energy might as well start hiding now: if I find them, I’ll teach them a whole course in violence!
A bang from behind responded to Tenner.
Slowly, turning around, he stopped beating and at the same time, the banging went quiet. Who was messing with him? The looming servers released faint beeps and an electric buzzing, making it harder to find the source of the ruckus. Combined with the convoluted pattern of the maze, it was a pain in the ass. Inspector Tenner remained patient and found what he’d searched for.
There were parts, screws and wires scattered across the ground, forming a trail that went in one direction. After he passed them and made sure not a single footfall could be heard, all traces of banging and searching stopped, leaving only the eerie buzzing of the servers. Rats at least didn’t buzz.
Tenner stopped at a T-shaped intersection. Shadows on the left. He slammed his back against the wall and waited, plank ready to strike. The shadows faded, followed by a series of clunks, each quieter than the last. Heart loud in his ears, Tenner turned left and tried his best to follow the shape. He reached a path going down the middle of the server room, straight to the center. Pillars, stretching up to the top of the room, glowed, holograms floated all around them. A clumsy silhouette walked towards there, carrying stacks of something. From behind the pillars, more figures emerged, details obscured by the light.
Tenner approached then, mid-walk, realized his mistake and disappeared behind a pillar.
He couldn’t walk up to these people. He didn't know who they were or their intentions. Most likely, they’d imprisoned him in Realm 349 and would do a plethora of nasty things if they saw him out.
They’re puppy kicking world champions. Worse. Scum. No, the villains that rule the villains. Worse, still. I’d bash their heads in--
Electric sounds blared across the room. Metal clashed. Tenner thanked himself for staying put a moment longer: the ground-shaking carnage lasted minutes. He peaked out for a clear look.
Some of the figures were doing laps around one fallen silhouette whilst others attended a terminal, beside which, toolboxes levitated. None of the puppy kickers were facing Tenner’s direction.
He dashed to a pillar closer to the middle, put his hand over his mouth and caught a quiet breath.
Woah.
***
Miss Lonelypants--not Tenner’s favorite teacher which the nickname should’ve made quite obvious--taught about the ancient technologies that finally let farmers and travelers put animals to use. Craftsmen and builders invented simple mechanisms to create greater things. As time progressed, more technologies appeared, doing the dirty work for humans. Soon enough, most grueling, repetitive, mindless jobs were automatized. That’s why the jobs in the neighborhood required a big brain or a fast mouth.
Tenner assumed that one such repetitive, mindless job was the maintenance of the Realm. It was a massive structure and shit would certainly go wrong. What else could explain robots?
Like humans, they were prone to mistakes. One droid must’ve had a faulty line of code or some slight damage. Nothing easily noticeable, yet in the delicate inner workings of an underground complex, that meant a lot.
The droid had gone haywire, tore the hundreds of servers it considered damaged out and brought them to the center of the room. Once the robot returned, dozens of machines and servers in its grip, a long trail of parts behind it, the others instantly registered it as a threat that they destroyed with awe-inducing brutality.
It… makes sense, Tenner, after piecing together what had happened, returned to hiding. If CHEKs, an invisible barrier around Realm 349 and this massive underground facility exist, why wouldn’t robots? By what I just heard, they’re pretty fucking murderous. But I need that map and those tools. He began planning. The way to the outside wasn’t straightforward and every step of the way was lined with shifty solutions to weird problems. It assured him that the time spent in the neighborhood wasn’t wasted.
Tenner contemplated for a moment. Should he fight for sneak? Taking them out means a faster process and getting the element of surprise. Sneaking means I won’t die.
The taste of blood met his tongue and he realized this wasn’t up for him to decide. He closed his eyes and listened.
Visions appeared, the feeling of being picked up, judged and impaled swallowed his body. Makes sense. He opened his eyes.
As the droids worked to fix the mess they’d caused, blue holograms popped in and out around them, and the control panels flashed countless warnings. In shape, these machines were similar to humans, red and silver plates made up their skin, wires and parts sticking out of the gaps between them. Tenner surged forth, swinging his plank. Upon unexpected impact, he grabbed his gut and bounced half a dozen meters backward.
Life’s unfair, but this right here is a whole new level of bullshit.