In the darkness, Ash floated, weightless. He sensed his own existence fading as the nano-chip transmitted information from his brain into the virtual realm of Neuratar. This information would shape his appearance, class, sub-class and even unique attributes from a vast pool of possibilities. You didn’t choose, Neuratar chose for you.

He navigated the options before him with a patient breath: tutorials, lore, and controls, fine-tuning visuals and adjusting game settings to his liking. A single question floated in the abyss before him: 'Are you ready?' Without hesitation, he clicked 'Yes.'

The town of Myrddin sprang to life around him. As it was the first thing players would experience, it was designed to be like stepping into a fairy tale - thatched roofs covered cosy cottages, and market stalls lined the streets. Autumn's crisp air and the midday sun painted the scene in warm shades of orange, brown, and red, while leaves skittered across the cobblestones.

Ash attempted to log out but couldn't, confirming Gideon's threat. There would be no escape. He had been the first to log in, and for a few minutes, he thought Seth and Hiroshi might have halted the launch. However, to his dismay, people did eventually begin materialising. They came in various shapes, sizes, and colours, all appearing excited, with smiles and cheers, looking around.

They were all dressed in plain clothes, which looked like pyjamas, although they varied in their style and colour. Other than turning their heads to look and craning their necks, nobody could move. This was wrong. It was meant to be a free-for-all from the moment of logging in. Thousands of people, ignorant of the world their minds had been transported to, should have rushed into the cobbled streets of Myrddin and wherever else they desired, seeking adventure. Instead, thousands of people stood motionless, silent, and equidistant from one another, like a gaudy terracotta army.

As more players logged in, multiplying like cells, a palpable sense of anxiety permeated through the stillness of the players. Ash felt it cling to him like dry, sticky air. Although panic coursed through them all, they maintained their unwavering silence. Their eyes widened, brows furrowed, and whatever means they had to express themselves, relying solely on facial expressions, they employed.

Ash's eyes widened as he scanned the thousands of players surrounding him. Under different circumstances, he might have taken pride in bringing these individuals together to experience his creation. However, disgust churned in his stomach as he considered the possibility that Gideon might be responsible for the deaths of every person present, including himself.

Ash wondered, how would he go about it. Would he simply execute them all one by one, like the Gestapo? Would he snap his fingers and make it happen in an instant? But why? What purpose would it serve to eliminate 5,000 lives, not to mention the interconnected lives it would ruin? He’d received Gideon’s message, but it didn’t contain any justification or reason.

Thoughts of war and dictators swirled in his mind. He recalled the books he had read, and the millions of lives lost due to the actions of individuals and their obedient followers. Large numbers seemed abstract when read, but standing among the 5,000 Neuratar beta testers, Ash felt a profound comprehension of the darker aspects of humanity, including the abhorrent capabilities of someone he once considered his closest friend.

Taking a deep breath, he reflected on the moment earlier when he had been standing on the windowsill, wrestling with the temptation to jump. It was at that moment he had made a decision - he would resist.

No one else seemed to materialise, presumably everyone had logged in. Right beside him, an elderly man with a short, pointed grey beard scanned the row of people to his right and then to his left, locking eyes with Ash. A regal crown of white hair framed his head. Their gaze held, and the old man shared a subtle, tight-lipped smile. Ash couldn't help but wonder what he might have said if he had been able to speak.

"Hello, everyone!" a high-pitched voice rang out. Ash was positioned quite far back, about six rows deep, but he could just about make out the figure of Dave-The-Brave, one of the NPCs who lead some of the tutorials. The peak of his leather cowl moved up and down as he paced along the line of frozen players. He shouldn’t be here.

"Some of you might recognise me from the tutorials, but in case you don't, let me introduce myself. I am Dave-The-Brave, the adventurers' mentor. CAN I HEAR A HOO-RA?"

The area was silent, save for a breeze swaying the creaking lanterns lining the cobbled path that led deeper into Myrddin.

"I'm sorry, you're all still muted!" he admitted with a sheepish laugh. "Alright, let's try that again."

Dave-The-Brave unmuted the players, and immediately the charming town of Myrddin was filled with blood-curdling confused screams. It stopped suddenly.

"Well, I'm not sure what that was all about, but I'll keep you all muted for now. We'll open the floor to questions again in a moment. How does that sound?"

Ash glanced around, and the only person who seemed to be listening rather than in silent panic was the elderly man beside him.

"Great," Dave-The-Brave continued, "as I mentioned, I am a mentor. There are many of us scattered around the world, but I'm responsible for the South-West region. You can turn to us for assistance with various in-game matters, and most of the time, we should be able to offer guidance. Alright? Excellent. Now, I have some unfortunate news to share, players, and I won't sugar-coat it. You are all trapped in this world, and there doesn't seem to be any way out. So, don’t ask me. Additionally, if you die in this world, I have it on good authority that your physical body, the real you, wherever that may be, will also die. So, unless you want your Mother finding your festering remains, I suggest you play as if your life depends on it, because it does."

The players' faces contorted with various expressions of horror, resembling rows of grotesque gargoyles.

"I'll now take some questions."

Again, the screams of the players travelled through the streets of Myrddin for a moment.

“Right, maybe we’ll do one at a time? I can’t ask all of you, but if someone has a genuine question, then you will be able to raise your right hand.”

Next to Ash, the old man’s hand shot up.

"Hey there, you in the back, Errol's your Gamer ID, right? Go ahead."

"Hi, Dave-The-Brave, can I call you Dave?"

Dave nodded.

"Great," Errol said, as if realising something, "I have a nephew named Dave, not like you though. He's a carpenter, a bit rough around the edges, but a good lad. Not destined to be a rocket scientist, but he's got a heart of gold-"

Dave interrupted gently, "Sorry, with a few thousand people here, someone else might want to ask a question. I don't mean to be rude, but could you get to your question?"

"Of course, my apologies, Dave," Errol said, "Well, in what you've called the physical world, I'm actually 83 years old. I fear I might be in way over my head here, and honestly, it was by complete accident that I ended up here. But you don't want to hear about all that. So, my question is, can you recommend somewhere nearby to take a pleasant stroll or relax a bit until... well, until we all meet our fate? I enjoy nature, maybe that forest on the horizon is good for a leisurely walk? I'm not up for adventure, but it's been a long time since I could walk around, so I might as well use these newfound legs I have here!" Errol offered an awkward laugh, scanning the horrified faces around him.

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The eerie silence grew among them like a sinkhole. Dave didn't respond immediately, and curiously, he looked as if he was thinking, which was unsettling. He was an NPC with no Artificial Intelligence. He was programmed with just a handful of scripted responses and actions, and yet here he was interacting as if he were human.

Dave glanced at the other players, who seemed to express their confusion through their eyes.

"Alright, Errol," Dave said finally, "First, if you head into that forest without weapons or experience, you won't make it past the tree line. Second, and this applies to anyone else thinking of doing the same thing," he declared in a clear, assertive tone, "if you want to survive, you must play the game. Waiting for this to 'blow over' is not an option because it won't. The only way to survive is to become powerful. See those mountains on the horizon, beyond the trees?" Dave asked, and all the players struggled to turn their heads to see.

"There are things far worse than in the forest beyond those mountains, do you understand?" Dave's tone had shifted from assertive to grave.

Errol nodded.

"You've somewhat dampened the mood now, Errol. Thanks for that.”

"I think you've just put a damper on things by telling us we're trapped and doomed, Dave. Can you tell us how and why this happened?" Errol asked.

Ash observed a change in Dave's disposition, a hint of sadness or perhaps guilt. It became apparent during the pause after Errol's question, almost as if Dave-The-Brave, an NPC, had suddenly realised that these were real people, not seasoned adventurers, and they might not be well-prepared to survive in this world. It was as if he pitied them. Ash furrowed his brow, silently questioning, how could that be?

As if Dave had heard his unspoken thoughts, their eyes met, and Dave held his gaze, seeming to study him. He then struggled to articulate his words but eventually managed to form a sentence.

"I... um... Who's next?" Dave finally uttered, his eyes flitting around the motionless players. Hands shot up, yet Dave's uncertainty lingered, and he kept glancing back at Ash. Meanwhile, Errol seemed to be quietly observing the silent exchange between the two.

Gradually, Ash raised his hand, prompting Dave's eyes to widen.

"Um, yeah... Okay, that's it for now," Dave hurriedly declared. "So, here's the dealio: I'm gonna vanish for a week, giving you less-prepared folks time to, you know, mess up. When I'm back, if you've got questions, come find me. Until then," Dave's gaze darted around as if locking eyes with everyone, "just, uh, good luck, I guess."

In the fleeting moment just before he vanished, Dave's gaze fixed on Ash once again. There was a knowing look in his eyes.

Dave disappeared, and as the spell lifted, chaos erupted. People screamed, panicked, and scattered through Myrddin like marbles careening wildly. Ash stood frozen amidst the commotion, watching as they surged along the winding cobbled path. Some abruptly halted at vendor stalls, eager to spend their starting gold, while others engaged in frantic conversations with NPCs, desperately seeking guidance. A handful of brave souls even opted to bolt from Myrddin altogether.

Ash's feet remained firmly planted, his gaze drifting across the familiar surroundings while a perplexed frown creased his face. It wasn't the grip of a spell that held him in place; rather, it was his own uncertainty about where to begin. He had believed his familiarity with Neuratar would be his greatest strength, but now, despite the World appearing largely unchanged, an underlying shift left him feeling lost. It was his World, but something fundamental had changed. The path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, and he grappled with the unsettling notion that he didn't know what steps to take.

"Well, that was rather peculiar, wasn't it?" Errol remarked as he approached Ash.

"Hmm?" Ash responded, shaking himself out of a trance as he watched the last of the players disappear around a corner into the heart of Myrddin. There had been five thousand of them standing in silence, and now there were only two.

"That Dave fellow was odd. Did you notice how he looked at you? It was like he knew you. His whole demeanour changed. What was that about?" Errol inquired.

Ash couldn't help but notice Errol seemed scholarly, book-smart. An academic? Yet, in the way of many academics, he appeared oblivious to personal space, even as Ash subtly tried to create distance. Errol's perception regarding Dave-The-Brave's demeanour was sharp, but he seemed utterly unaware of Ash's clear desire to be left alone.

"What do you want?" Ash eventually asked.

"Well, I initially wanted to find a pleasant place to walk or sit down, but I've since gathered that might not be the best idea. So, what I really want is to understand how to survive this week before Dave-The-Brave returns. I have some questions for him."

Ash responded, "Just... Go complete some quests or something. Staying within Myrddin's walls should keep you safe. Make sure you have food and potions to stay alive."

"Okay, thank you," Errol replied, offering the familiar tight-lipped smile.

Ash took his first steps towards the path that led to Myrddin, sticking to his initial plan of picking up a quest. He had resolved to navigate the World as originally intended, adapting to changes as they emerged.

Yet, as he moved forward, that inexplicable force he had previously felt on the window ledge resurfaced. It exerted a subtle yet undeniable tug, prompting him to slow and cast a lingering glance over his shoulder.

Errol hadn't moved an inch. He remained, looking lost. He seemed like an elderly man awaiting a bus that would never come.

A fierce internal struggle began. Hurricane Errol. He resolved to press forward and not dwell on the past, conceding that 83 years had been a long and fulfilling life, especially considering that the other players were considerably younger. Nevertheless, the force intensified. Unlike any tangible force, such as wind or gravity, it felt more like an emotional impulse, a visceral tug from deep within.

Unable to resist any longer, he turned back and Errol raised his head as Ash approached.

He planned to lend Errol a hand, ensuring he grasped the game's basics, knew how to stay alive and avoid unnecessary risks. Following that, Ash intended to part ways with Errol and focus on his mission: finding a way to send the players back to their world. As Ash approached, Errol smiled once more.

"Why are you here, Errol? How did you get here? Beta testers were chosen, and..." Ash chose his words carefully, "...I can't imagine they would have selected someone of your age to test a virtual reality MMORPG."

Errol began, "Well, in a nutshell, it was an accident. My grandson and I mixed up our appointments—same name, you see. A letter arrived for me about receiving this treatment, although I had been expecting an NHS letter regarding my hearing. It wasn't on NHS letterhead, but I figured it was another result of those Tories and their privatisation. I went along, they inserted the nano-chip into my ear, and I didn't realize what had happened until I got home. My grandson found out and was devastated. That was months ago. Eventually, after he’d calmed down and I promised to buy him this and that, we decided I may as well give it a go, and here I am."

A stunned silence hung between them. Errol appeared to do some sort of stretch with his arms behind his back.

"You saved your grandson's life," Ash finally remarked with a faint smile.

Errol considered this, as if savouring the thought, and said, "So, this is real, not part of the game? We're trapped?"

"I believe so," Ash replied.

Errol's usual aloofness faded as he said, "Well, well, I guess I did save his life then."

Ash pressed on, "I don't want to assume, but I'm guessing you haven't played any games like this before, right?"

"I dabbled in Dungeons and Dragons with colleagues and students at the university some years ago. Is it similar?"

Oddly relieved, Ash said, "Yes, quite similar."

"Fantastic," Errol grinned.

"Are you familiar with classes and subclasses?" Ash inquired.

Errol replied, "I'm a bit rusty, so please feel free to refresh my memory, but I recall there being a handful of classes—wizard, warrior, priest, something like that?"

Ash nodded and suggested, "Errol, let's continue this conversation as we walk. Time is precious here, and we can make better use of it. Consider that lesson one!"

Errol gestured for Ash to lead the way, and they proceeded towards the winding cobbled path that led into Myrddin.