Even before the connection took hold and I could open my new eyes, I knew there was something off. For a moment, I couldn't put my finger on it. It was little more than a strange feeling. Blearily, I forced myself into a sitting position, as I tried blink away the sudden lethargy that'd taken me. It wasn't until my attention turned to the squelching mud beneath my hands that I started to catch on. There was a depth to my sense of touch that felt far more real than it'd ever been in the past. A chilliness that wouldn't have been conveyed by anything less than a point blank Blizzard and an unpleasant realness to the mud and grime on me that wouldn't have even registered previously.
I pinched myself.
I did so again, harder this time, with the edge of my nails, until I could feel the sharp, stinging sensation that warned me away from drawing blood. Moments passed as I stared down at the red mark on the back of my hand, while a confused, uneasy feeling rose in my chest. My in-game avatar had suffered injuries in the past that would've turned my stomach in any other context. I'd had my skull cracked open and my chest split in half. I'd bled from cursed wounds until I had not a single drop of blood left. I'd taken a lethal bath both acid and lava. That stinging sensation had been more painful than any of those, or anything else I'd felt in game before.
I tried to log out.
Nothing.
I couldn't even feel the attempt.
Normally, the thought of logging out came with a certain what I can only describe as 'texture', just like using an ability did. Now, it felt like any other phrase. As the question, 'What the fuck?' was asked and unsatisfactorily answered, my thoughts circled as possibilities were considered and discarded without any thorough examination, for the scenario as just too fucked up.
What the fuck was happening? What th-
I stopped myself.
A deep breath.
Another.
Each breath deliberately taken was a bucket of water on the bonfire of unease, stopping it from growing into anything resembling a panic attack. I calmed myself, cutting it off before it could get any momentum. Something had happened, obviously. What was unknown. What any of this meant was unknown. That was okay. Something really fucking weird had happened, and that was okay. I didn't need to panic over it. I stood up to punctuate that thought and absently wiped my hands on my pants. Another strange sensation. The Tinker started equipped with a set of leather pants and a smock, neither of which felt very comfortable. The clothes had a stiffness that threw me off slightly. A minor nuisance that had no business being considered a problem, but it was what struck me in the moment.
I was standing in a cold, damp, unfamiliar piece of countryside.
I was wearing leather clothing1.
And I was in the body of what appeared to be a teenaged girl.
With the shock wearing off, that last part was probably the strangest feeling thing about the situation. Controlling another body in VR always came with a certain level of detachment that was, if not absent, greatly lessened here. When controlling my avatar, it always felt as though movements and sensations were 'mapped' to my real body. Not so any more. The hands that shifted beneath the leather gloves I wore felt delicate and dexterous, moving in service of an unfamiliar muscle memory. The arms attached to them might've only been two thirds as wide as what I had previously, with a wirey strength that stood in stark contrast to my previous flab. This body felt alien in ways I'd never really thought about. Having always been a little overweight, I was used to a certain feeling to my movements, which were all suddenly different.
I very deliberately didn't check anything more thoroughly than that. Who knew if anyone was watching?
A drop of water drew my attention. Miserable storm clouds loitered overhead, highlighting a horizonI couldn't quite place, but felt familiar all the same. It took me staring at it for at least thirty seconds before I was able to place the silhouette of the truly gigantic mountain in the distance.
Embarassing, considering it'd been what I'd more or less expected to see when I arrived, after all.
'It's even further away than it looks!' came the cheerful echo of some NPC from a vague memory I'd otherwise all but forgotten.
A quick glance around with thoughts unclouded provided additional evidence. The field's contents might've been different, but the treeline hadn't changed too much. The mountain in the distance was the Grand Summit; an end game Raid that capped off the main quest. In turn, judging by my memory, the field I was standing in should have been the Tinker's tutorial area.
But if so, where was 'my' workshop? The one the zone was named after.
The Tinker's story began in a workshop, putting the finishing touches on their master's latest invention. It walked the player through the weapon's completion, followed by a series of slice of life fetch quests that taught the basic rules of such things. Then, as was Aethernaut's preferred method of moving the player onto the main quest, the forces of darkness attacked, dooming every character besides the player. Half an hour in total, if you moved at a decent trot, saw the player safe and sound at the capital, their ostensible backstory never to be mentioned again.
Standing there, I couldn't say what happened to the workshop, if it ever existed here at all. No evidence of its existence seemed to remain if it did, so if it was here, it'd probably been gone for some time. I didn't care to speculate much further. Too many things were unknown. There were other, no less curious differences. What had been a lush, unbroken meadow in-game was now reduced to a yellow mush that faded in and out of the mud. The woods to the north had faired better, but dots of yellow and black were apparent in the leaves, rendering the entire place sickly-looking. Somehow, I suspected this was more than just a question of season.
With neither a workshop nor civilisation in sight, there was little of value to staying in that field. I already had a vague idea of where I wanted to go next. In the tutorial, the path south had lead to a small hamlet that was forgotten by the plot almost immediately. Its fate didn't even bear mentioning, though anyone could guess that the monster attack that ended the tutorial likely wiped it off the map.
Still, with the differences already present, it was probably my best bet.
* * * * * * * *
1 Don't laugh, you jerks. I'm a t-shirt and sweatpants guy. Anything stiffer or tighter than a school uniform feels wrong.
* * * * * * * *
Walking came with its own unfamiliar sensations that continued to throw me off. When forced to leave the comfort of my Oubliette, I was never too keen on moving quickly. My preferred pace had once been sardonically described as a 'stately saunter' and I considered any scenario in which I was required to accelerate beyond a jog to be a minor catastrophe. This was a philosophy that my new body didn't agree with. Whenever my attention wandered, an uncharacteristic bounce crept into my step, which threatened to break into a run if left unchecked. It wasn't strictly 'new'; each of my avatars were possessed of their own unique walk cycle, but that always felt like an illusion overlaid on top of my usual gait. This felt like a well-ingrained muscle memory, and it was clashing hard with what walking should have felt like.
This was not the place for 'Cheerful'. Especially not from me.
If there'd been something else to distract me, maybe it wouldn't have been so jarring, but the rolling heath that lead towards the town in-game was blank and empty. It also seemed a far larger place than what I remembered. There'd been maybe two hills between the workshop and the town, while I could have sworn I'd climbed a dozen so far with no end in sight.
In my mind's eye, this place was bright and vibrant, interspersed with low level mobs and newbies racing through their starting quests. In their absence, it almost felt like the land was grieving. Overly dramatic, perhaps, but I preferred that thought to just focusing on how the place was cold, damp and miserable.
In any case, that wasn't something I particularly wanted to dwell on either.
As I approached the crest of another softly sloped hill, I could hear something growling in the distance. Many things growling, in fact. Slowly, I crept forward, till I could just barely see over the crescent and into the dale below. In the middle of the road, a small pack of Duskwolves had taken up a vigil. Twelve, or so I counted, all standing ramrod straight, only moving to search the horizon or snarl something to another pack member
I wasn't sure whether I could call that anticlimactic or not.
Safe behind my VR Pod, Duskwolves were barely worthy of note. Just another trash mob that turned up in throughout the northern mountains zones. Glancing across their nameplates, there was one at level sixteen, and no other higher than ten. Though far above the level I expected of the zone, I wouldn't have hesitated to engage them normally, even as a new character. The level gap meant little; monster species was a far more important determining factor and wolves just weren't that difficult.
On the other hand, without knowing how things had changed, I hesitated, for a variety of reasons. I didn't know if combat had changed. I didn't know what might happen if I messed up and got injured. I didn't know if these were real, sentient creatures rather than bits of data, whether they'd use the same, linear 'tactics' that they did as AI. Hell, I didn't know if they were even aggressive. It didn't help that I was also without even a starter weapon.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
As I finished that train of thought, I couldn't help but feel there was something about it that didn't sit right.
...
...Wait, hang on.
It took a moment to click. Out of habit, I rubbed my eyes. The past hour of walking had seen me pour over a variety of possibilities regarding what this place was. How real was it? Was it a place that just resembled ? Throughout all that, it only now occurred to me that the HUD was still visible and that was weird. I still had knowledge of my character's abilities and stats. More importantly, stats and abilities still actually existed. In the back of my mind, I could still feel the texture to the words. Regardless of anything else, there was still some connection between wherever I was and Archon Online as a video game, not just its lore.
Assuming wherever I was, wasn't just literally 'Archon Online, still'.
Maybe I was being too quick to discard more grounded theories about what had happened. Reluctant as I was to admit it, I was more than a little biased. As shocking and uncomfortable as it'd been at first, the idea of being actually inside such a world had been something I'd fantasised about since I was young. It was one that'd been altered as I'd grown older -I hadn't nearly the same illusions of how I'd actually fare in such a scenario (which was perhaps where that undercurrent of anxiety in my gut was coming from)-, but it was one I'd never entirely had the heart to truly give up on.
I took a breath and forced myself to play Devil's Advocate.
Hell, maybe the VR Pod had always been able to induce more realistic sensations and this was just really messed up bug. It was unlikely and I would be super pissed if that was the answer, but it sounded as plausible as anything else in a vacuum.
As my thoughts settled into such considerations and my guard dropped, the fact that I was still more or less standing out in the open1 slipped my mind. Of course, it was about then that the largest one swung its head to stare at me directly. As one, the rest of the pack re-orientated themselves into what could only be called a 'formation' and every nameplate turned an angry red.
The expletive I shrieked could probably have been heard all the way in town, wherever that was.
The pack charged, lead by the highest levelled one, as I scrambled to my feet. Running was briefly considered and discarded. Would they still de-leash? I wouldn't bet on it.
Think, idio-Abilities. What do I- Anima Bomb: Elemental, Personal Suspension Field, Plasma Cutter and what's tha-Quick Draw? Crap, no weapon.
Bombs, then Cutter was the obvious choice. Wolves resisted Ice, so Lightning for the stun, fire for damage.
Plasma Cutter needed to be armed per the Tinker's gimmick2, so I held fast as they approached. As they charged into range, two bombs were there to meet them. Crackling static nearly drowned out the pained yelps as the fodder ground to a halt. Without even time to curse, the pack leader lunged for me. I dove past it. Another bomb fell among the fodder, erupting in a burst of flame that left no member above half-health. One, maybe two more for them. The next came as soon as the ammo returned, killing the two weakest. In the back of my mind, I felt the reassuring 'thud' of their pelts added to my inventory; a far better indication of death than the frequently misleading health bar.
One eye always on my arming trump card, I shifted to keep the wolves from splitting my attention.
Again, the pack leader lunged at me, this time managed to barely clip me for maybe ten percent of my health. For its third attempt, I was ready. Glowing blue energy snaked out of a crystaline braclet (-Wait, when...?-), holding the wolf aloft. Just in time, as the stun expired and the pack swarmed me (-Guh, should've made more space!-). Claws scored gashes across my arms and legs as I desperately scurried away from the throng, teeth clenched in adrenaline-numbed pain. And yet, I felt compelled to let out a half-mad laugh as another fire bomb readied.
Was this fun?
It had all the trappings of fun.
All but the hardiest fodder fell to that one. Only three left, I ran down one still rising out of hit stun and finished it with a heel to its throat. Only twenty damage, but it'd already been on its last legs. Bells jingled in my ears as I levelled up and I instantly started arming my newest abilitiy. The two remaining wolves weren't quite so slow to react. Rather than wasting another bomb cooldown, I engaged the two in melee. A reckless decision. Though I took out the first one in a single, well-placed kick, the other lunged for my back and knocked me over. I rolled with it, barely throwing the wolf before it could take my neck. As the tables turned, I threw a half-blind haymaker that finished it. Some distant part of me was swearing, as my knuckles screamed, joining my arms and legs in concert. In the scuffle, I'd dropped to below half health. Normally, that'd be more embarassing than delibitating -'The only health point that matters is your last one' and all-, but the pain and injuries that accompanied them couldn't be laughed off like I might normally. I could feel my legs seizing a little. I tentatively clenched and unclenched my hand. The distant burn coalesced into jolts of pain as I did.
After a moment, I turned back to the 'boss' wolf. I rolled my neck, waiting for the crowd control to end naturally.
The wolf dropped from its delayed lunge directly into another shock bomb explosion. Again, it resisted the stun and instantly rounded on me. Though an unfavourable outcome, a smirk crossed my face unbidden. I might not have been doing so well myself, but I'd dealt with its allies and chipped away half its health. Plasma Cutter was nearly armed. I could do this.
It charged me again and, as my leg gave way under me as I went to dive again, it crossed my mind that I might be wrong.
I blinked and it was on top of me, ready to Go for the Throat. Hands around its muzzle barely kept it from ending me. Teeth gritted, one eye remained glued to the arming time of my newest ability, I didn't need to hold out for long. Like most of the Tinker's initial abilities, Plasma Cutter made up for its back loaded damage with high base numbers. Once it armed, my next round of abilities would end this, I knew it. Time slowed as I struggled. The milliseconds crawled by.
...0.8...
...0.6...
...0.4...
There was the sound of rushing wind, then a thump. The wolf's weight was wrenched off me and it took a moment for me to parse what was going on. My eyes followed the movement over to where the wolf's rapidly aetherfying corpse to had landed. Looking at the damage that arrow had done to its skull set my stomach turning.
Adrenaline fading, I gingerly picked myself off the ground. Clamping down upon the indignance that threatened to bubble up, the gamer in me that snarled "I had that in hand', I turned to greet my rescuer.
* * * * * * * *
1 If the wolves had been more 'realistic', they'd have found me by smell long ago...But then, 'realistic' wolves probably wouldn't have attacked me as they did.
2 Tinker's gimmick is weird and gets complicated as it levels and advances but, for simplicity's sake, 'starts each battle on cooldown' is a good enough summary at level 1. As you might have guessed, Tinker-Primary classes are pretty trash in PvP duelling as well3.
3...It is not the only thing I think about, okay?