[ZERO SPACE]
A snazzy leggoid stepped through dreary catacombs. Her custom clothing was meticulously threaded, each layer organized in a refined gradient that popped even in grayscale. High fashion like this fetched a high price, but she paid exclusively with time - thirty eight hours in total, and that’s not including bathroom breaks.
“Ceri, you’re going the wrong way!” said another voice.
A puppoid paw nudged her towards one of many similar corridors. This puppoid had long drooping ears, wrapped around her own neck like a scarf. A hot pink fedora rested above lensless glasses. This player was a puppoid before puppoids were cool.
“Super, uh --” Ceri began.
“Super Duper,” said the puppoid behind her. “That’s my nickname!”
“Right, Super Duper, all these corridors look the same,” said Ceri.
“They’re supposed to!” said Super Duper. “We want players to get lost here.”
“That sounds like a lousy goal,” said Ceri.
“It’s Design’s goal!” said Super Duper. “Art’s goal is to make it look pretty.”
Ceri’s catacomb tour concluded with a large chasm. Platforms and props floated below in a swirling current of air, descending into an neon blue void.
“That’s creepy,” said Ceri.
“It’s a map hole!” said Super Duper.
Ceri leaned down to get a closer look -- Super Duper yanked her back.
“Yo, don’t get too close,” said Super Duper. “If you fall, you’ll hit a death plane and insta-die!”
“I know what a death plane is,” said Ceri. “I went to school for this.”
“Dope, then you can help me build a new room for Zydan,” said Super Duper.
“Easy,” said Ceri. “For my school project, we built a room in three weeks.”
Super Duper chuckled. “This one’s due in an hour.”
Ceri gasped.
“That’s impossible,” she said.
“Nothing’s impossible with the right tools!” said Super Duper.
Super Duper extended her puppoid hand, projecting a technical-looking menu:
Asset Library ID name comment 18377023 catacombBrick_01 18377027 catacombBrick_02 DO NOT USE 18377032 catacombBrick_04 18377041 catacomBrick_06 18377047 catacombBrick_07
“This is our asset library!” said Super Duper. “It contains everything in Zero Space!”
Super Duper selected catacombBrick_04. A transparent brown catacomb cube appeared, hovering just above her hand.
“See that?” said Super Duper. “I’ve selected an asset!”
Ceri reached out - her hand passed right through it.
“Wait, players will fall through that,” said Ceri.
“Yah, I know,” said Super Duper. “It doesn’t have collision yet.”
Super Duper released the catacomb cube. The cube snapped into place, strapping into the surrounding floor tiles. Its transparency filled in with color, seamlessly conforming to the environment.
“Whoa,” said Ceri.
“It’s not over yet,” said Super Duper.
Super Duper fanned her hand. The catacomb cube multiplied into a symmetrical floor, sprouting up into three walls before arching back into a ceiling.
“Tah dah!” said Super Duper. “The room is done!”
Ceri’s jaw dropped.
“The duplicate tool,” said Super Duper. “That’s how I got my nickname!”
Ceri took a cautious step onto now-solid ground.
“Wait, this will take hours to set dress,” said Ceri.
“We don’t have to,” said Super Duper. “We’re done!”
Ceri looked dumbstruck. “But it looks terrible.”
“This isn’t school,” said Super Duper. “We don’t have to make it good. We just have to make it fast!”
“That’s a lousy philosophy,” said Ceri.
Super Duper chuckled.
“Did you talk to your classmates like that?” said Super Duper.
“People need feedback,” said Ceri. “It’s how they get better.”
“Not everyone wants to be better, ya know,” said Super Duper. “Some people want to just get by.”
Super Duper flexed her puppoid paws.
“Now, you might want to step back,” said Super Duper.
Ceri did as commanded.
“Boop!” said Super Duper.
A final block materialized in the entryway, sealing the room off completely.
“Wait, how do you get in now?” asked Ceri.
“You don’t!” said Super Duper. “That’s how Zydan wants it!”
“Zydan sounds like a lousy designer,” said Ceri.
“Nah, he’s... great,” Super Duper said. “Real chill dude.”
Ceri’s eyes wandered to a suspiciously large room. A golden shield with the image of a dragon sat upon a mantle in the center, lighting up the catacombs with a brilliant amber glow.
“Whoa,” said Ceri. “What’s that?”
Ceri wandered inside. She wasn’t afraid of monster ambushes - Devs had aggro-immunity.
“No, wait, Ceri --” said Super Duper.
Hot pink spikes perforated Ceri’s body. Pink points burrowed into her long leggoid legs, her waist, her torso, her hands, her neck --
[THE HAVEN]
Ceri ripped off her headset. Her real-life outfit was as intricate as her character’s - a skilled tailor in both real and virtual worlds.
“Those spike traps were invisible,” said Ceri.
Super Duper removed her own headset, almost taking her real-life fedora with it.
“Yup,” said Super Duper. “That’s the design, yo.”
“That’s lousy design,” said Ceri.
“Not our problem,” said Super Duper.
“Super Duper,” said another voice behind them. “How’s that new room coming?”
Both artists turned to see Zydan leaning in, rapping his rings against the cubicle wall.
“You must be Zydan,” said Ceri.
“I am,” said Zydan, proud to admit it.
“So you put those lousy spikes in the game.”
Zydan’s hand slapped against his forehead, rolling down his face.
“Those spikes aren’t fair,” said Ceri. “They killed me in one hit.”
“Not everything in the game has to be fair,” said Zydan. “I don’t have to justify my decisions to everyone on the team.”
“That’s kind of your job,” said Ceri.
“My job affords me other priorities,” groaned Zydan. “We are done iterating on those spikes.”
“It’s an easy fix,” said Ceri. “You just have to --”
“Design is not taking suggestions,” roared Zydan. “Those spikes are final!”
“Yo Zydan, she’s new here,” said Super Duper. “Don’t worry Ceri. Zydan is... really cool.”
“Ceri, is it?” asked Zydan. “What do you do here?”
“I’m an artist --” Ceri began.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Exactly,” said Zydan. “And I’m a designer. Stay in your lane.”
Zydan kicked a rolling chair into the cubicle wall.
“I’ve instated a zero tolerance policy on detrimental feedback,” said Zydan. “We don’t have time for toxic personalities.”
“Wait, then how are you still here?” asked Ceri.
Super Duper gasped. Zydan’s eyes filled with rage.
“Yo yo, Zydan’s a real cool guy Ceri,” said Super Duper. “You’ll grow to love him.”
“That seems unlikely,” said Zydan.
Ceri gave him an odd look.
“Finish that prison-room Super Duper,” said Zydan. “And you, new artist --”
Zydan smirked.
“Enjoy the rest of your day.”
He walked away, slapping their cubicle hard enough to almost make it fall over.
“Whoa,” said Ceri. “That guy’s an asshole.”
Zydan heard that too.
“Maybe you should, just uh, explore the tools, for a while,” said Super Duper, shaking.
Ceri shrugged and turned back to her computer.
Those spikes were still visible on one of her monitors. She clicked them, highlighting them with a transparent wireframe cube.
A menu popped up:
Object Attributes OBJECT NAME Catacomb_Spikes OBJECT TYPE trap ATTACK 10 SPIKE DELAY 0 SECONDS
Ceri looked over the interface - it seemed self-explanatory. Those spikes were an easy fix. It was fine for them to be dangerous, so long as they were telegraphed.
They just needed one quick adjustment:
SPIKE DELAY 3 SECONDS
That would do it!
***
Floor twenty seven fell treaded a line between swanky and sketchy. Pristine hallways neighbored deserter slums. Gentrification was a creeping poison, leaking down from the upper floors. Soon, floor twenty would be the new thirty.
Jay stopped before a doorway - Unit 27805. Whatever lurked inside was enough to scare someone as composed as Bander, and it was likely still there. Hopefully Bander was too.
Jay was all too familiar with how Haven doors locked - it was one of the first things Anton ever taught him. “You’re just paranoid,” Jay told him. But that paranoia was validated the night the Infinities invaded. Somehow, they found a way in.
If only Jay knew their secret. That would at least help him with Bander’s door. Haven doors were bulletproof. But maybe not Level 2 bulletproof --
He placed his pistol against its metal frame.
“PIERCING SHOT!!”
A sizzling hole lingered in just the right place - Jay booted the door open.
He was greeted by a terrible scent. It made him queasy, but he had nothing left to vomit. His breakfast fell victim to the discovery of his glitch-man scar, and he hadn’t eaten since.
The smell came from Samuel’s body - Bander’s ex-roommate. Black chunks spilled out from the bottom half of his head. Two obliterated computers stood nearby, in somehow worse condition.
A single computer survived the calamity, though calling it a computer was generous. It was a makeshift pile of circuits and wires, held together by duct tape and desperation. Jay didn’t dare inspect it, in fear of the whole thing collapsing.
A chatlog lingered on the monitor:
BANDER: i don't know what to do
BANDER: there's something in my room
BANDER: i'm scared shae
BANDER: really really scared
BANDER: please help shae
BANDER: i don't know what it is
BANDER: please hurry
And an unsent message:
BANDER: it's the thing from the
-- It cut off there.
On the ground nearby was a chunk of pale flesh. Plain pasty flesh, swaying beneath a hanging ceiling fan. Thin and bare, like a blank sheet of paper --
SLAM
Jay leapt ten feet into the air. The noise came from beneath a desk.
“Shae?” yelled a muffled voice. “Is that you?”
Jay squinted: there appeared to be a subtle indentation beneath the desk with three vent like slits - a secret wall panel.
“Bander?” asked Jay. “Yeah, it’s Jay.”
“Your real name is Jay?” asked Bander. “And your game name is Shae? Wow, really creative.”
Yup, that was definitely Bander.
“There’s something in my room, idiot,” said Bander. “Do your premium shit. Kill it.”
Jay glanced around.
“I don’t see anything,” said Jay.
“It’s out there,” said Bander. “It attacked me when I tried to leave.”
Jay glanced around, more carefully this time.
“Watch the shadows,” said Bander. “It’s hiding in the shadows.”
Jay couldn’t fathom anything hiding in here; there was barely room to stand.
Still, Jay humored Bander’s request. A standing lamp cast a tall shadow. Blocky desks projected rectangular shade. Faint spinning shadows mimicked fan blades above. And a dark tree stood against the wall, casted from --
Nothing.
Nothing casted that tree.
“Um, hey Bander,” said Jay. “There’s like, a tree shadow on the wall.”
Jay tilted his head, trying to decipher the funky shape.
“That’s the thing!” said Bander. “Kill it! Kill it!”
Jay scratched his ear with his gun barrel.
“It’s just a shadow,” said Jay. “You want me to shoot your wall?”
“Don’t shoot the wall,” said Bander. “Shoot the thing on the wall.”
That confused Jay even more. SP didn’t seem worth using, especially when Jay wasn’t sure what to use it on. He fortunately had plenty to spare - Zero Space SP was a separate pool than Haven SP.
He pelted the wall with normal shots. To his surprise, the bullets actually hit something. Nothing invisible stood in the way; the bullets hit the shadow itself. Squashed indentations punctured its silhouette, each bullet producing a satisfying squish.
The tree’s branches swayed, folding inwards as they trickled off the wall like hourglass sand. Strips of dark bark ripped free, plummeting into the carpet below.
“Did you kill it?” yelled Bander.
“Uh, I don’t think so,” said Jay.
Jay wasn’t sure what he was trying to kill. He bent down to get a closer look.
Between tiny carpet hairs were worms. So many of them. Bundled up like a stream of black spaghetti, slinking forward with a serpent’s grace.
Nope, nope, nope - Jay didn’t want any part of that. He stumbled away, blasting with both pistols. Normal bullets didn’t seem to deter it.
“PIERCING SHOT!!”
A Level 2 bullet cleaved through ranks of worms, stopping before breaching the floor. That was probably good news for Bander’s downstairs neighbors, but not great news for Jay. His Level 2 barely made a dent.
Jay scooted against the furthest possible wall. This was unlike any opponent Jay had ever faced. “Opponent” implied it could be beaten. These worms felt more like a force of nature - a natural disaster that couldn’t be defeated, only survived.
“Are you killing it?” asked Bander.
“I’m trying!” yelled Jay.
Fifteen worms replaced every dead worm; each living worm birthed thirty more. What was once a black tree was now a roving river of squirming brambles, flooding the unit floor.
A branch of worms petered off, seeking solace in Samual’s body.
“UNRK ARGH”
Samuel’s corpse returned to its feet, controlled by a ventriloquist’s will. His body audibly snapped into a hunched slouch. Black worms sprouted from his neck, erupting like a diseased volcano.
Jay released a high pitched scream. He’d never made that noise before and he preferred never to make it again.
“PIERCING SHOT!!”
Another Level 2, straight to Samuel’s center. The bullet stopped Samuel, but Samuel stopped the bullet. His body disintegrated into slithering strips.
“What the hell is happening out there?” asked Bander. “Please tell me it’s dead.”
“It’s not!” yelled Jay.
Jay shuffled into the corner, pursued by a blanketing black blob. His fingers ached from rapid trigger squeezes. It was impossible to tell if bullets did anything, but anything was better than nothing.
Worms splashed up onto his arm, burrowing below his skin. Fleshy lumps wiggled in his wrist.
Nope, nope, nope - Jay wasn’t about that.
“PIERCING SHOT!”
Straight through Jay’s elbow joint. A Level 1 severed his forearm, satiating the swarm. At least Jay wouldn’t have to look at that nasty glitch-man-induced scar anymore.
A tide of rolling worms crashed near Jay’s feet, forcing him onto a desk. Jay was running out of options, and at this rate, he would run out of blood too. He wrapped his sleeve around his missing elbow - basic first-aid Anton taught him; it wouldn’t aid him for long.
The worms grew like black vines across desk legs. Jay kicked off the wall, vaulting onto Bander’s desk - a lone island in a writhing black sea.
“Jay,” yelled Bander. “What’s going on?”
Pursuing worms scaled Bander’s desk, and the wall behind it --
Bander shrieked as worms dripped through the slits of her secret panel. Grabbing the heaviest components she could find, she bludgeoned breaching worms, crushing them into dust. But she didn’t stop there - she crushed their dust into atoms. And then their atoms into subatomic particles.
More worms deterred towards the bathroom --
“UNRK ARGH”
Bander’s other ex-roommate Amber emerged from the bathroom. Her jaw was missing - her top row of teeth functioning as a faucet for black worm vomit. A huge hole in her stomach showcased dark squirming intestines.
Jay slumped against the wall, dizzy from blood loss --
No. Jay couldn’t afford to die here. His death would mean Bander’s death. There had to be something he could do.
Anything --
But there wasn’t.
No premium powers. No obtuse mechanics. No green juice.
It was all over.
Black worms straddled the edge of Bander’s desk.
Jay put a pistol to his head. There was nothing left he could do for Bander. And he didn’t want to stick around for what happened next.
“SHAE!”
BRRRRZZZZZZZZ
A bolt of lightning streaked across the room, pulsing electric energy through layers of connected worms. Bold blue bolts lit them up like unstable wires, pulverising walls and furniture with wild sparks.
An enforcer rushed in with what looked like a hand-held cannon, pelting thick pockets of worms with concentrated neon blasts. His hair was messy and unkempt. Fresh coffee stains covered his yellow uniform. Wherever he was before this, he left in a hurry.
Amber’s cadaver lunged towards the enforcer. The enforcer didn’t see it coming, but fortunately, Jay did --
“PIERCING SHOT!!”
A Level 2 bullet slammed Amber against the wall. Then a blue bolt etched her outline into it.
Bander screeched as blue sparks bounced against her hidey hole. She condensed her body, praying to any Gods that existed to let it all end.
And then finally, it did.
There was silence. Uncomfortable, prolonged silence. That was either a really good thing, or a really bad thing.
Hesitantly, Bander slid the wall panel open, emerging into a stinking wasteland of sizzling worm ash.
Jay sat on the desk above her, staring towards the exhausted enforcer before them.
“You saved us,” said Shae, out of breath.
“Thanks, um, enforcer dude,” said Bander.
The enforcer strapped his lightning gun to his back.
“Just call me Dane.”