CHAPTER 2 – DAY ONE

Ⱥ∞ Ω

In a blink, everything snapped back to a sharp-edged reality. But the new reality was different. Way different. Instead of me lying in a bed in a Swiss hostel, I found myself reclined against a tree trunk, part of an ancient looking grove in an open area of tall grass looking out of two eyeholes in a full face helmet. Instead of two twins swapping spit while chowing my Roscoe, I saw Delight, now a lithe blond bombshell dressed in a light blue toga looking thing with her mouth still wrapped my now noticeably larger manhood. Beside her, Destiny had manifested as a huge nude dark-red skinned monstrous beast with fangs, curled horns, and clawed hands, one of which was still wrapped around my crankshaft.

Combat reflexes kicked in, and my hand flashed forward burying the head of the spear I now held through Destiny’s right eye and deep into her skull.

What the fuck? How did I get a spear? Fuck me! When did I get a spear, and why is it in my hand?

My hand gave a twist and pull for more scramble in the monster’s brain housing group, then pulled back the spear and instantly slammed forward, the second thrust through her fanged mouth.

As the creature fell back with an agonized roar, I rolled left and spun to my knees. Thankfully, big mister Jim popped out of Delight’s mouth just as her jaws slammed shut with a grimace of pain. My skirt dropped down as I leaped to my feet.

Skirt?

My left hand, finding a shield immediately available, came close to cover my body from attack. The fact that I was still sporting a woody kind of impinged on the overall martial effect. Though, to be fair, this whole shattered universe thing had occurred less than two seconds ago so it would make sense I was still rocking hard.

My eyes followed the critically injured Destiny beast as she collapsed to the ground and started to crawl slowly away. Years of training, deprivation, and the unique challenges of war had scoured away to nothing my ability to be surprised into a state of denial or hesitation. When you can be sound asleep one second and under close attack the very next, “What’s going on? This can’t be happening!” disappears from your existence if you are going to survive the crucible of modern war.

Regardless of the suddenness of the changes in my world and circumstances, I was decisiveness incarnate. I stepped forward to place myself between Delight and the monster then shouted, “Corporal DeSantos! Sitrep!”

I heard DeSantos shouting, “What the fucking fuck? What the fucking fuck happened?”

A creative abuser of language my young friend was not.

Glancing left and right to identify any additional risks, I yelled again, “DeSantos, if you are clear, get your ass over here, now.”

I heard the quick pound of feet running as he approached, his right hand gripping the left hand of Bonita, attired now in a white dress edged in pink, while his left held a strung and knocked bow. He, too, was dressed in some sort of ancient Greek outfit. Armor with a cool helmet that had a tall crest of white horsehair, shield slung across his back. Real armor, but more like what you’d see in a movie or a video game. Badass looking, though not exactly historically accurate.

Things were jumbling together in my head as my senses continued to assess, and my mind struggled to process the situation. I was orienting and observing like a motherfucker. My OODA loop was at such high speed that it was hard enough to concentrate when suddenly Delight began hysterically screaming. Concentration got more difficult instantly.

“DeSantos, cover my back. Bonita, how you doing? Delight, baby, we need you to shut the fuck up right about now. DeSantos, I want you and Bonita to stack on me. Help Delight by getting her hand onto my shoulder and standby while I figure this shit out.”

“Roger, El-tee.”

I never wanted to feel an M4 in my hand like I did right then. Fuck that, I wanted a 240. A SMAW. I’d have taken anything in the armory as preferable to what I now held while facing a monster, an excessively short-seeming sharp stick. Sorry, no more time for alliteration.

I felt DeSantos and the two girls moving behind me. Finally, Delight grabbed my shoulder and squeezed, her fingernails almost piercing my flesh.

I continued to crouch, poised to fight the wounded fiend if she attacked, but after another few tense seconds, she slowly sank fully to the ground and groaned out a final breath.

Dead, with a capital ‘D.’ Bitch.

Delight screamed even louder and more shrilly. Thankfully that had the effect of finally and fully killing my boner, so, in that slice of my mind that continuously focusses on stupid shit, things were looking better already.

But, because I was a shit head, a hard corps Marine Raider shit head to be specific, I tossed out a shit head prayer to the last thing that had made an impression, “Saint Mattis, help me.”

It was, literally, a throwaway line. Just something to say.

I frequently thank God, not us, but the real one-true God, that I said it. The situation became instantly more manageable as a golden light came over us. When it cleared, we stood in a small clearing, a sun-dappled wooded glade, with a structure about the size of a big mausoleum. It appeared at first glance to be Hellenistic in design with Corinthian columns and a slate roof. Sort of looked like a little temple or shrine. A golden glow emanated from the building, while a loud voice, sort of gravelly in tone, could be easily heard in a non-stop shout.

“What in the fuck is this? If this is some kind of CIA experimental drugging bullshit again, I will rain down blood and terror on every swinging dick that had anything to do with this shit. I’m not kidding. There better be a good fucking answer as to why I am standing in a building wearing a green toga holding a hand grenade and a Ka-bar. Motherfuckers are going to die if I can’t get the right answers, right now.”

I stood there, mind numb, as the high-quality vulgarity continued to build and flow from the little building. We had only been standing there for ten seconds or so before General Jim Mattis, appearing a much younger fiftyish than I knew he was, attired as the MARSOC Patron Saint of Chaos, walked out and saw us. Even had that weird golden-plate halo thing with ‘MAD DOG’ engraved on it. He leaped towards us, his right hand knifing my way while still holding a grenade. I looked to make sure the pin was still in. It was.

His eyes glittering with rage and malice Mattis barked, “Who in the hell are you, and what is this shit?”

DeSantos and I popped instinctively to attention, and I jacked my spear towards my face as if it was an officer’s saber salute. “Sir, Lieutenant West 1st MSOB, and Corporal DeSantos 82nd Airborne, sir, with, ah, uh, a civilian party of two, sir.”

Delight screeched again, voice warbling as her mind fled toward madness.

Mattis looked at her, his face briefly took on an oddly relaxed demeanor, and he gestured with gentleness as he spoke, “Be calm, my child. Be at peace, be quiet.”

I felt her fingers instantly relax as her body partially slumped. Her breath gusted once more, then normalized.

Mattis’ regained his grim deportment as he glanced searchingly around for a moment, shrugged and stuffed the grenade and knife into this voluminous robe. The halo must count as a cover because he returned my salute, then demanded, “Report.”

I snapped the spear down and barked, “Sir, Corporal DeSantos and I had been in Geneva on a ninety-six out of recovery and rehab at Landstuhl. Wounds suffered, amputation of the left leg for me and DeSantos lost his right leg. We were at a hostel in the company of these ladies, well, these and another one, when something happened, and we came here.” I held out my spear and shield and plucked at my tunic and armored skirt. “Like this.”

“Alright, son. So, I can’t really imagine why you were with a young lady while dressed as a Greek hoplite while missing a leg, but I’m old and old-fashioned, so I’ll go with that. You said there were three young ladies. Where’s the other one?”

“Ah, well, General, I, ah, wasn’t dressed as a hoplite when things flashed. We were, I mean Delight and me, here, and her twin sister Destiny, were, ah, disrobed. Sir.”

“Not going to ask, Lieutenant, just hope you were doing your duty like a Marine should. So, where is Destiny? If she looks anything like her sister … good on you, son. Continue your brief.”

“Sir, this all happened, like, less than sixty seconds ago tops, so here it is. I was getting a bl … ah, uh, taken care of by Delight and her sister, when I heard DeSantos yell. There was a bright flash, then incredible pain, then cold darkness. I woke up in a field dressed like this, Delight had become even more gorgeous, but her sister had turned into some sort of demonic looking monster. So, I stabbed her in the head with my spear a couple of times. She died, Delight screamed, we stacked, and all I said, only as a joke I promise, sir, was ‘Saint Matthis, help me.’ We popped up in this glade, and here we are with you, General. Other than that, sir, I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

Mattis stood for a moment, his squinting eyes calmly, but searchingly, staring at me. He turned his head a fraction.

“Corporal, were you also getting a blowjob when this happened also?”

“No, sir. I was in the room next door playing HALO with Bonita. She’s a professional gamer, sir. I’m a subscriber to her Twitch channel. Plus we’ve kinda been dating for a couple of years. I mean, you know, when I wasn’t deployed we’d get together, and, ah … all that and everything. Anyway, I was in a bad fight in the game and couldn’t get the dude to just die. She had grabbed the controller, so we were sort of wrestling over it when we flashed as well. Hurt like a motherfucker, sir. I don’t mind saying that out loud. Worse than getting shot through the shin by a Dishka did, that’s for damned sure. Sir.”

“Okay, Lieutenant. You say you’ve been here, how long? About a minute?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve been here about a minute as well. I have no clue as to what is going on, but I will note that either you and DeSantos are two lying motherfuckers because you clearly have both legs, or there is some wild and wooly bullshit in effect. You invoked something, and whatever it is that happened, brought me here. Apparently, based on your own statement, as a result of your call. So, maybe if you could send me back, that would be great. I’ve got to give a presentation at an aerospace seminar later this afternoon. Gotta meeting with a congressional subcommittee tomorrow morning. No time for weird shit. Send me back. Now, if you would.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Ah, General Mattis, go away?”

Mattis stood and stared.

“Saint Mattis, begone.”

The general crossed his arms and stared.

“General Saint Mattis, return to whence you came?”

He walked a few steps closer to me.

“Sir, I don’t know what to do,” I said in despair.

Bonita interjected. “I hate to interrupt, but, if I can throw something out here? Some of this seems sort of familiar.”

“Of course, throw away, young lady. It appears Lieutenant West isn’t getting it done for now. What do you have to add to this magical clusterfuck?”

“Well, General. Y’all. I’m not sure, but maybe, it’s almost like we are in a game, sort of. Not really a game, exactly, but if it were a game, then maybe you have to do what you were called for. Maybe?” She ended with uncertainty and turned to face DeSantos. “Luis, what do you think?”

“Wow! No shit! I can see it now. This is like a game. Obviously, it isn’t, can’t be, but there’s definitely some top-notch weird bullshit going on that seems gamelike. Like we’re in a live-action MMORPG.”

“What in the fuck are you talking about, soldier?” Mattis closed the distance to DeSantos practically in an eye blink. “You think this is some sort of game, Corporal?”

“Sir, no, sir. Not a game, exactly, sir, but something happened, and we ended here with apparent online RPG game-like qualities. The way we keep popping around, clothes and armor appearing. Monsters. You, sir. Sort of like in a science fiction story, or something. Uncertain at this time, sir, but I will find out, sir.” DeSantos defaulted to his training and experience to end with an affirmative response.

Bonita spoke up again, “General, I guess what Luis and I are thinkin’ is that, perhaps, if this is what it seems like it is to both of us, maybe some sort of blend of God of War and Spartan: Total Warrior, that you may have some sort of in-game duty. We don’t know how we are all here, but, maybe, if it is what we kind of think it is, you can do whatever it is, and you might be free to be released.”

DeSantos added, “It can’t be either one of those because I played both and rocked with incredibly mad abilities, and I already tried to do some stuff that didn’t work here. The game mechanics don’t match or mesh. What I’m thinking, game-wise-”

I interrupted, “You’re thinking, now-wise, about shutting your fucking pie hole about silly bullshit so we can figure out how to get General Mattis back to the real world.”

With a tight grin and a nod to me, Mattis inquired, “Alright, Miss Thibodeaux, what do you need from me?”

I caught an anomaly and asked, “Sir, excuse the interruption, but, how did you know her last name? Nobody said it.”

“Well, Lieutenant, it’s clearly marked in the box that just popped into existence over her head. It says, Bonita Thibodeaux, Healer, Level 2.” Mattis pointed at Bonita, then pointed his finger above West’s head and continued. “You all got boxes over your heads a few seconds back. Your’s, Lieutenant West, says Ulrich von Westlichen, and we’ll talk about that later, Fighter/Mystic Marshal, Level F6 forward slash, and I’m pretty sure that’s the symbol for infinity before a numeral 1. Luis DeSantos, Warrior Mage, Level 4, and finally, Delight DuPont, Psion, Level 2. So what’s that all about? How are you doing it?”

I glanced around at the others and saw they were as bewildered as I was, “Sir, we don’t know what you are talking about. We don’t see anything over anybody’s head.”

DeSantos piped up, “Sir, if we were really in a game, everyone could see boxes and character sheets with attributes and all kinds of stuff.”

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Mattis got a querulous look on his face and said, “I was somehow, just this instant, gifted with a burst of knowledge about what I am to share with you.”

His eyes went unfocused, and he then reached out his hand to my head, almost as if he was a priest giving a blessing. My body was washed in a hot glow for the briefest instant. I felt my soul expand across eternity into the empty echo of the universe itself, then snap back into the prison that was my flesh and blood.

I imagined it was kind of like ‘The Quickening’ must have been in The Highlander. Minus the whole cheesy lightning-bolts-for-way-too-long special effects.

It seemed as if scales had been removed from my eyes, and all my senses burned. I could taste the color of air, hear the feeling of vision. Freaky weird for a quick flash, then everything sort of snapped back into a sharper reality. Sounds were crisper, colors were noticeably sharper and more vibrant. It seemed for the span of a moment I felt more alive and powerful than ever. Almost god-like, as if my spirit or soul had come fully alive.

Before I had more than a fraction of a second to notice the changes, out of the corner of my eye I saw Delight emanating an aura looking thing. I turned to see, and instantly, a washed-out and grey-edged boxes became visible over each person’s head.

Naturally, I focused on Delight’s box. Hahaha. Delight’s “box.” Get it?

Delight's data box [https://i.postimg.cc/4yQKbJbz/Screenshot-131.png]

As much as I hate to admit it, that sight cleared away any spiritual awakening crap I’d been having. I kinda freaked out, looked around at everyone and yelled, “Oh my God! I can see it! I can see the box over your head, General. Your’s too, DeSantos, everybody. Can you see mine?”

Corporal DeSantos and the two young ladies looked at me, then Saint Mattis, and finally each other with bewildered expressions. The three all shook their heads in the negative.

I looked back to Mattis and asked, “Can you see my box, sir?”

Mattis immediately frowned.

Years of experience taught me to immediately recover as I had left myself exposed to a verbal jab. “That didn’t come out right. Do you see anything above my head, sir?”

“Of course.”

I was excited. “Can you do that for them, too?”

“No. Only for you. According to my limited knowledge, I’m your Guide, Westlichen. You are the Mystic Marshal. You have to do the others.”

“How can I do it, General?”

Again Mattis got the look in his eye as if he was looking ‘elsewhere.’ He replied, “First, there is this rank thing. I can’t be called General, here. I can only be ‘Saint.’ I don’t know why, but I just got a notice box. So, in-game I’m Saint Mattis. There may be some sort of penalty for failure to comply, so, comply. Understand?”

I snapped to attention, followed almost immediately by Corporal DeSantos. The girls just looked on.

I replied, “Yes, sir.”

He continued, “I don’t like it, but those are the regs. Regarding getting everyone activated, they have to join a Faction. So, as to the faction question, when someone joins your Faction, then you can activate them as a player character.”

Luis pumped a fist and drawled, “I fucking knew it. We are in a game, bitches! That’s right! Alright, El-tee, hit me. I’m in. What do I need to do?”

Bonita immediately echoed, “Me, too. I’m in. Do me, do me.”

"Hang on, Bonita. Let me focus on DeSantos. If something goes wrong and somebody explodes, I'd rather it be him."

I took a long look at his data box.

Corporal DeSantos data box - initial [https://i.postimg.cc/Y0ZPRHrC/Screenshot-133.png]

Not really knowing what I was doing, I copied the moves and gestures of Mattis. As my right hand came in contact with the forehead of Luis, a box appeared in my vision. I took a couple of moments to examine it to see if there were any aspects of the shape, color, or design that might give me any sort of hints.

Part of that Marine Corps background, training, and war thing. Attention to detail saves lives and wins wars. You always gotta stay all about the victory, kids. Anyway, no dice on a clue, at least not for my non-gamer ass.

Is it your will ...? [https://i.postimg.cc/66M43QqX/Screenshot-135.png]

So, I described what I was seeing, and I read them the words, stressing the part about it being irrevocable.

I then asked, “Got anything on this, Corporal?”

I used the whole rank thing to let him know that while there seemed to be some game shit going on, I wasn’t playing at that time. Not interested in jokes or bullshit, just a legit assessment of any potential unrecognized threat.

“No, sir. Sounds like a fairly standard in-game system, so far.”

I don’t know where the words came from, but after I started speaking, they simply flowed. And, yeah, I had picked up on the capitalization of the word when Mattis had said it, so I stressed it to make sure the whole ‘capitalized F’ came through. As I spoke, I could actually feel my will manifesting itself as a thing of power. I can’t really explain exactly, but it was if I had a sort of spiritual hand that I was able to reach out with and find the will of DeSantos. Maybe mine felt more like a hand inside of a steel gauntlet that allowed me to keep my sense of touch. I don’t know. That’s what I’m going with as far as a descriptor.

Regardless, I’m sort of just hip shooting here trying to describe something that is a true mystery in a way that’s understandable. So, anyway, I reached out my gauntleted hand of will and took hold of DeSantos’ will, which felt like an oddly shaped rock, with bumps and small spikes. My will-hand fully encased it.

This is freaky and should have tripped me out, but it made perfect sense then and every time afterward. It is as if this is as natural and normal as you or me picking up a fork at suppertime.

“Alright. Do you, Luis DeSantos, accept my will to irrevocably bind you as you enter you into my Faction? Do you submit your will to make this commitment to me as Mystic Marshal, of your own accord, freely, and unforced?”

After receiving a nod from DeSantos, I reached out with my left hand and touched the green circle. My gauntleted will-hand squeezed with immeasurable power and I felt his will reform itself to more closely fit my grip.

Simultaneously I heard a weird harp sound and felt heat flow from my chest down my arm then wash into Corporal DeSantos. As soon as that occurred, I heard his gasp of indrawn breath, but I also knew we weren’t complete.

I kept my right hand on his forehead as I examined his data box.

DeSantos data box #2 [https://i.postimg.cc/Qdmd647r/Screenshot-137.png]

“Your data box just changed colors, maybe like canned salmon, got a red line around it, sort of a small glow around the edges. By the way, it’s a rectangle.”

I looked at the girls' data boxes in turn.

“Bonita, your’s looks sort of football shaped and Delight, your data box is more like a capsule. Medicinal. The kind you swallow, not the moon landing capsule.”

Looking back to DeSantos I ordered him, “Standby.”

The first page disappeared from my vision in an explosion of glitter, and the next page came forward, although a third page appeared as that occurred.

Is it your will ... faction? [https://i.postimg.cc/MKGPMXYb/Screenshot-139.png]

Already knowing we were all going through with this, I didn’t even ask DeSantos, but went ahead and pushed the green button with my left hand.

Again, I heard a noise, this time sort of a crackling sound, and felt a flow of power like a slight jolt of electricity down my arm. Still, I realized there was more. Once more, I ordered DeSantos to stand by as the page glittered away and the next moved forward.

Again I took a moment to check for changes to his data. The only thing I really noticed was the color changes to some of the information. It sort of … ‘colorized.’ I didn’t know what all that meant about the title and MMXP, but I didn’t want to stop and ask. Probably nobody would know anyway was my thinking.

DeSantos data box #3 [https://i.postimg.cc/MZntqgZd/Screenshot-141.png]

I did say, “Luis, I don’t know what all the color combinations are about, but I’ll tell you, your data box really looks sort of the color of the center of a medium rare steak instead of salmon. The letters are a kind of orange looking color and your box is edged in red with the real thin glowish sort of outline. Unlike the general, I mean, Saint Mattis who has a big glow. I don’t know if that means anything to you?”

DeSantos shook his head in the negative and waved his hand at me in a ‘come along’ gesture.

I said, “Okay, here we go with the next thing.”

I then attended to the interesting text note relating to DeSantos.

I had to admit, it was pretty cool. And, always with the three-page thing. I wondered how much stuff I had to do to get to the last page.

It took a few extra seconds to comprehend this sheet. The fucking pictograms threw me off at first. My initial thought was that it had something to do with camping or National Parks. Something like that. It didn’t click right away that these icons were somehow representative of magical powers. After quickly working through the implications of what I knew about Corporal DeSantos’ character, I finally grasped the essence of the sheet’s information. I spent another couple of seconds digesting details of what I was seeing.

DeSantos magic on offer [https://i.postimg.cc/yNSYVV57/Screenshot-143.png]

“Luis, I got a thing asking me what one magical power I want to will to you. It looks like the red fire symbol is the biggest, then a green mountain is next biggest, then, maybe what I think is a blue water drop is next to last in size, and finally a white comparatively smaller cloud. Which one do you want?”

I watched as he scrunched his eyebrows together very briefly then replied, “Fire.”

As soon as he said it, I heard a roar and felt what seemed like a shot of molten lava scream down my arm into his head. I used scream because that’s what I heard tear from my throat. I know it hurt me like a sonofabitch. Luis also screamed, jerked back from my hand breaking the connection, and fell to the ground clutching his head and chest. While this was occurring in the physical realm, my gauntleted will-hand convulsed with crushing power then opened and released his will.

Before I could even move in response, he laughed.

“Fuck my life! That shit hurt like a motherfucker, El-tee. Dayum.”

His eyes unfocused and he moved his hands to manipulate his screen. He grinned up at me then started floor dancing on his back as he sang in a cracked falsetto, very poorly impersonating SNAP!, “I got the POWAH! I got the POWAH.”

I gave him a second or two to float and gloat, then, a with a quick smile to let him know I was happy for him, I said, “Shutup and get on your feet, dumbass.”

As he stood, I made a final review of his data box. In fact, that’s what I decided to keep calling the information boxes over everyone’s head. ‘Data Boxes.’

“And, there’s a new line inside that says your primary spell school is fire.”

“Oh, shit, El-tee. This is so fucking cool I’m about to lose my mind. I’m a no-shit fire mage. Oh, wait. Maybe I should call myself a Pyromancer? Yeah. That’s it. I’m a Pyromancer, bitches.”

I smiled at him as he grinned like a lunatic, eyes unfocused and waving his hands around while he accessed his screen.

Fincal C1 DeSantos data box [https://i.postimg.cc/nrrWJLRk/Screenshot-145.png]

I looked over to Bonita and raised my eyebrows in a question.

“What about you, Bonita? You still interested?”

She promptly stepped forward and said, “Bring it. I’m joinin’ your faction.”

It went sort of the same as with DeSantos, although, with her, there was only one magical choice, a heart. Initially, she seemed a little disappointed, then said it was probably the school of Life Magic and went with it.

When I gave her the magic tag, I felt an energy I can only describe as ‘goodness itself’ flow from me to her. The accompanying sound in my head was like an angelic choir singing one note. Very cool. So far, I was getting different sounds for different things and the same sounds for the same things.

I gave her a play by play on her data box colors and layouts as well. I have to admit, this was pretty exciting and cool. I wondered whether I would have any magical powers as the game progressed. Anyway, Bonita’s data box looked like this. More like a football shape with way different color combos. It looked very chick pastel.

Bonita data box 1 [https://i.postimg.cc/T3NR27nb/Screenshot-147.png]

Pretty much right away, Bonita and Luis both grabbed at each other and started yakking some sort of gamer babble at each other. The words were flowing fast and furious, and I barely understood what they were saying, much less what they meant. They invested a lot of energy in almost non-stop hand gestures pointing above each other's head.

Mattis interrupted the cries of surprise and delight. “What does mine say?”

I turned back and glanced. There it was, clear as day, a gold outlined rectangular box with words and numbers.

Saint Mattis data box [https://i.postimg.cc/pX7G2KpT/Screenshot-149.png]

I replied, “Sir, your’s says, ‘Saint Mattis of Quantico - Patron Saint of Chaos, Called AVATAR, Guide, and Warrior Monk, Level O10/100 to me, apparently. It’s in red letters and there’s a big golden glow around it.”

“What does all that mean to you?”

“I don’t know, sir. I’m still recovering my mindset, and none of this makes any sense, as yet. I don’t play video games. Ever.”

“I don’t know about any of this, either. I’ve never been a gamer, so, if I am a Called Avatar and Guide, whatever that is, wouldn’t I have some idea of what I am supposed to do?”

With abrupt suddenness, Mattis stopped and raised his hand, moving it with apparent randomness in mid-air. “Oh. Okay, I got this.”

Suddenly, he focused his attention on the group and said, “I was again provided a burst of knowledge about what’s next. So, go ahead and pull up your character sheets.”

Bonita started bouncing on her toes in glee, which caused a brief loss of focus as her heaving chest drew the attention of all three men.

“This is so, cool.” She squealed, “I can’t hardly believe. This is everything I always dreamed of.”

DeSantos grinned and threw out a fist for a bump from Bonita. “Shit, me too. If this is what I hope it is, we are rocking. Large.”

I stood mutely for a moment, considering. Then answered, “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t know how to follow your order to pull up my character screen. Usually, in online games I’ve watched others play, there are virtual buttons and …”

My mouth slammed shut as my vision was suddenly occluded by a partially see-through holographic representation of a screen. With virtual buttons.

I took some time to check out the different sections, like for character attributes, and class. All the usual, I presumed with the grossest ignorance. But, still, it felt similar enough to my faded memory from high school of what a character sheet would have on it. Maybe some new stuff I didn’t know about or recognize, but I assumed things had gotten more complex since the last time I had been online or rolled some dice.

I looked around at the others and saw Mattis, Bonita, and DeSantos waving their hands in the air and poking madly. So, I started checking my stuff out.

I realize, now, I should have asked DeSantos or Bonita to walk me through the character sheets slowly, step by step, so I would have a better handle on things.

Okay, even then I realized it but didn’t want to keep being the numbnuts who was totally clueless. At the time I was still a young guy and had some sensitivity to my ego. Not much, honestly, but enough so that in that brief span I made the poor tactical decision to rely on my own limited knowledge and minimal experience to understand the system. Just like so many men do and have done throughout the ages, I didn’t even try to find out if there were instructions to read, much less ask a fucking question or two.

I remember, at that moment of decision, imagining some Rennaissance dudes in Piza, Italy back in the day. “Hey, Pietro, do you want the blueprints and other instructions for this tower we’re building?”

“Hell, no, Guido. We’re Italian Rennaissance dudes. We don’t need no stinking instructions. Hand me that hammer. We’ll just knock these extra pieces of rock off this thingamajig and get busy.”

Ha. Made me laugh.

Anyway, back to the story.

I spent a few minutes basically familiarizing myself with what I could see of my sheet and trying to correlate it to what little I remembered from watching others playing games or talk about it on base or on patrol. I also just spent some time admiring how cool and slick everything looked, particularly the picture of my warrior pic. Badass.

Main Character Sheet - Fighter [https://i.postimg.cc/SsPC2ts4/Screenshot-129.png]

Instead of doing what I did, simply hammering away at my character sheet like some knucklehead working a bent nail, I probably should have been paying more attention to my group, maybe told them to hold off making any moves beyond just looking.

A millisecond after I figured out how to drill down into my character sheet, I heard a feminine gasp and DeSantos shout, “Oh, hell yeah, Bonita. You’re a half-elf, Baby. And fine as wine.”

I turned around and almost passed the fuck out. Where before had been a shapely and well-endowed dusky Cajun girl with long dark locks of curling hair, now stood a taller and lighter skinned, slightly thinner version, with pointed ears barely visible through her much longer, straighter, tresses. She was still packing an impressive rack, nipples hard and pressed tightly against the fabric of her sleeveless linen dress. Not that I noticed, because that was DeSantos’ girl.

All I could think to say was, “Oorah, DeSantos. Semper Fi.”

Mattis stared a moment then grunted, “Rah.”

Delight spoke coherently for the first time since the event happened. “What about me?”

Ω

Back under the tree, a black metallic coffin shaped item called a reliquary appeared above the body of the girl turned monster who had been killed by Rick. It spun silently, the body to remain in place until twenty-four hours had passed and was returned to the being from which it was drawn, or until the loot now contained in the reliquary was claimed.

The reliquary held but a single item. A ruby the size of a lady's thumb, beautifully cut and throbbing with an infernal light waited, without thought or concern, to be picked up by a new master. Or an unwary fool.