[https://em.wattpad.com/f9bd506565d95dfac41ae86577ce67360e8ef66d/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f45796646525a7a4162734c4570513d3d2d3833343536363037322e313565663966343233623535313661363436373136303932323535322e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
Setting: INSIDE THE VIRTUAL GAME
Date: February 2nd, 2026. (12 days until expansion launch)
It was a clear day in the human territory of Ferrell’s forest, and that was just the way Patrick liked it. Usually the weather in the realm was determined by a random algorithm but being the Game Master, known to the players as a GM, he went out of his way to make the days sunny whenever he was logged in. A small perk he didn’t hesitate to abuse since he knew people in high places. Patrick was one of the original developers that had been with the game since the very beginning and he was proud to help construct the game, which was the most popular virtual reality game on the planet. As a GM, his job was to monitor activity and reply to any calls for help that might come from other players. Most of the time he was called on for help if players were stuck on a quest and had no idea how to solve it, or if they managed to get themselves physically stuck and had to be returned to a reset point. He also kept a look out for bugs or anomalies, anything that could cause the game to either crash or accidentally log people out. Since the game was in essence connected directly to the brain, crashing someone out or pulling them out without their consent might cause damage to the person’s brain, so he was there to make sure that didn’t happen on his watch. Patrick took his role as a GM very seriously, and didn’t abuse it in any way. He did what he could to help, but never tolerated cheaters and people looking for help cause they were lazy. After years, almost a decade, of interacting with players young and old, he got used to dealing with everything and that made him a very valuable asset to the system. Even Mr. Jannsen complimented him on how well he worked with the players that was a moment of pride for him.
GMs were easy to spot in the realm, as they were ten levels higher than the highest possible player and were wearing armor that made him stick out like a sore thumb. That way if people needed help, they knew exactly who to run up to. Sometimes Patrick didn’t like the fancy armor, and wished he could just part with it and play around for a while. He did that on occasion, changed up his armor and just wandered around on his own time. He found it helpful to hide and watch some players that he suspected of cheating without them knowing about it. And it was sometimes fun to just play that game and enjoy himself some of the time too. Yet while he was on the clock, Patrick was in his shiny armor and standing out like a peacock in heat. Whenever he did that, it didn’t take long for newbies to run up for advice or help.
“Whoa man, nice armor!” the kid called out as he walked up. “Can I get in on some of that stuff?”
“Eventually,” Patrick replied. “Our armor upgrades with each new expansion. When that happens, our old armor becomes available at the pvp (Player vs. Player) armory for purchase.”
“That’s so cool!” The kid replied.
“Indeed,” Patrick said, trying to remain in character. When on the clock, GMs like himself were required to remain professional and even neutral while in the game. He was only supposed to make the game more fun, not help anyone skirt around what they’re supposed to accomplish on their own. A duty Patrick took quite seriously.
“Your words are flattering,” Patrick replied, “But if you have no inquires, then I must be on my way.”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“I need help,” the young player replied. “I am unable to clear the troll mines in the eastern a part of this territory. I keep getting killed over there!”
“Let me have a look,” Patrick said as he called up his menu. When a player uploads a menu, only that person can see it and no one else. It allows you to inspect other players stats and gear, and other game wide options. Patrick used the menu to scan the player to see what was going on. The answer to the young players could be found in his basic stats:
Player: Horran, Human Warrior
Level: 11
Strength: 65
Stamina: 70
Agility: 45
Mana: 22
“I see the problem,” Patrick said, looking back at the player. “You are not a high enough level to complete this quest. You’re level 11, and the trolls in that cave are all level 15 and 16. You need to build up more before trying again, at least up to level 14 before trying again. You might also want to consider boosting your agility.
“Aw, man!” the player cried, “I really want to finish that quest!”
“You will,” Patrick reassured the player, “When you’re ready. This is not different than how things work in the real world. Would you take on any job without doing the proper training?”
“No,” the player replied.
“Exactly,” Patrick said, “This is no different. Grind to level 14, and if you take enough potions at that point you might make it out alive. Get to 15, and that is all but assured.”
“Alright,” the player said, slumping his shoulders. “Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome,” Patrick said, patting the young player on the back, “Enjoy your time here, and come back whenever you need more assistance.”
Patrick summoned a mount, a horse as shiny as his armor, and then rode that mount the main city that resided in the middle of this map. Centurnia was the capital of the human race, one of four races that existed on the virtual game known around the world as “Paths to Glory”. The plural in paths was in reference to the other races, all that players could pick to their liking. Besides humans, players can choose to be Elves, Orcs, Trolls, Dwarves, or the undead. Patrick preferred to be human and had always been that was since the game had started. Paths of Glory, often called POG for short, was the most popular game in the world, and it was this choice and freedom to go and do whatever you wanted that made is so much fun for the players. If you wanted to quest, then you quested. Ditto if you wanted to dungeon, mine, or grind out any other utility that was available to grind. Hell, you could spend the day just fishing if you wanted to get away from all the game stuff for a while. It was this kind of choice, and unprecedented freedom that made POG the enormous success that it was. If you wanted to go balls to the wall and level up to max in less than a month that was fine but so was doing the opposite and just slowing taking years to get there. There was no clock, no expiry. Move at your own pace and make the experience your own. So simply and yet so ground breaking, which was why POG the most profitable game in human history.
What also made it popular was the equipment required, which was just the helmet. There was no hand gloves, keyboards, or treadmills required. Just direct access to the players brain and they just laid down in a bed or couch while playing the game all inside their mind. While many people were afraid to play, and the religious even called it blasphemous and the devil’s work, millions of people were logged in at any giving time, and with each of them paying a monthly subscription to get access to the realm, that as a lot or profit that was being generated every year for the company and it’s very happy shareholders. Not like Patrick cared. He was all about doing right by the players and making sure the game never lost its mojo.
As he rode into Centunia on his mount, there was a beeping sound that only Patrick could hear. That meant someone had hit a button on his VR helmet. It didn’t hurt him, but the beeping let him know he was being asked to log out. Patrick checked his menu to see if there were any messages. There was just one pending:
EMMA: Please log out; we need to discuss the coming weekend.
“Oh shit,” Patrick said, as he didn’t realize that his shift had ended over a half hour ago. “I’m so screwed.”
Patrick quickly accessed the main menu and tapped Logout. A button that Patrick often took for granted, and would soon learn to appreciate when it was gone.