At this point in time, William Ainsworth had been a professional villain for nineteen years, and no man under his leadership could possibly dare to say he was any less of a villain than his father. He was a man to be respected, feared, and, if possible, avoided.

“Oh, uh, good morning, sir!” Right now, Charles Miyasaki of the Three Managers had failed to avoid his boss. And so, here he was, stuck between a rock and a hard place, staring up at the broad-jawed no-nonsense face of Mr Ainsworth. A pair of sideburns and a slicked-back black hairstyle framed the pale and stony face that told him exactly nothing. There wasn’t a single emotion on his face, as there usually wasn’t, and with a pair of large brows like those, he really should have been more animated. Yet, he wasn’t. “Is-, is there anything I can assist with?”

Mr Ainsworth gave him a stern look, his whirlpool-eyes sharpening just a tad more than usual. Then, he turned away from his small subordinate and glanced to the little man at his side, who in turn handed him a clipboard.

The helper himself wasn’t any short at all, but next to the brick wall that was Mr Ainsworth, he might as well have been a piece of chum.

Mr Ainsworth accepted the clipboard in one large, meaty hand that almost eclipsed the whole thing, eyed it closely (although Miyasaki was sure he already knew the contents of it), and turned back to Miyasaki. For a moment, Miyasaki wondered where in the world Mr Ainsworth could possibly get his hands on such finely tailored suits, but as a National-level Villain, he obviously had his contacts. “-You’ve been avoiding me.”

And there it was. “W-, well, sir, that’s-,” Miyasaki meekly defended, but he already knew his folly. There was nothing Mr Ainsworth didn’t notice. “-I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

He didn’t leave. Mute and staring, he let Miyasaki squirm until he let out the reason himself, and when he got his explanation, Mr Ainsworth - no, William - simply left. He’d heard enough, and he had plenty of work to do beyond enquiring from his closest subordinates. One of these tasks were to plan a raid on a laboratory in New Mexico. All to get his hands on materials and equipment for his scientists. Working on a day such as this might be a shame to most other men, but William was not like other men. He did what he was raised to do, and so he worked today, letting the fact that one of his higher-ranked subordinates had been avoiding him slip his mind. If he didn’t try to suppress it, it might cause him some form of emotional damage that he had been taught to avoid.

...Still, to think Miyasaki would avoid him because of such a little mistake. As if William was foolish enough to punish one of his dearest subordinates for failing to defeat a Local Superhero.

William heaved a silent sigh and strode away from the desk of his worker. He could feel Miyasaki’s gaze follow him all the way to the elevator, but William didn’t mind it. Stepping inside the finely adored elevator, he watched in mild amusement as his helper for the day scrambled inside, took one quizaitive look at William, turned back to the panel, inserted a special key into a hidden hole and pressed the top button. Somehow, his helpers always seemed to know which floor he was headed to. He figured it was because no fewer than two of the five who rotated every day had powers of telepathy. This one, if he remembered correctly, could vaguely sense the intentions of people around him. Though, going by the look on his face, he didn’t seem too proud of using it on someone of William’s standing.

And, in truth, this was the reputation William had forged for himself. Therefore, he accepted his helper’s shame. About a minute passed. This elevator, along with this entire skyscraper (one of many he owned) was dressed in an overly formal fashion, black and gold mingling in a kind of old, rigorous style that seemed to be baroque. Some of the other buildings William held power over were of the white and blue kind, overly modern and drab in a whole other way.

He had no personal preference. When the elevator slid to a stop and he stepped into his personal abode, he could truly feel that he had no personal connection to it. The helper gave a court bow and remained in the elevator.

William did not acknowledge him and instead entered his study through the living room. The condo, as luxurious as it was, was cold and barren of any personal effects. The rug was sheep’s-skin, the vases were expensive and William would not have cared if they all burnt to the ground. His study was equally callous, the burgundy desk so clean and polished one might have assumed that it had only been made yesterday. Not so. In line with the other expensive furnishings, this particular workstation had been scientifically engineered (by his own Mad Science Department) to take most any hits without a scratch.

Although William himself didn’t quite understand why this desk was any better than any of the fancy ones he granted his higher-level subordinates, he accepted it anyway, since his role required it. He must look his part, otherwise, he was nothing but a fraud.

So, he sat down, slid an onyx paper-weight to the side and evaluated his pile of paperwork for the day. Most of it was related to the upcoming raid, but a few were in regards to finding a replacement for the Second Manager, Nilson Sweeney. One of the last employees who had been working at Hound Corporation since William’s father led it. Sweeney had always been a devout man, and his loss would be obvious, especially among the five branches he controlled. Though, as per his contract with HC, his pension would be quite grand. A worthy sum for a worthy man.

William let his eyes survey the list of suitable candidates that the First Manager had suggested. Many of his own employees, a few outstanding newcomers, one or two outside up-and-comers…

All very fine and well, a new perspective would do well, after all, Sweeney’s folks had always been rather rowdy, despite how old Swee-,

“Ding ding!” William’s face turned to face the door. The elevator didn’t make any such sounds, but he knew a certain someone who did.

“Ding ding ding, William! Happy birthday, you old croon!!” a certain mad scientist said, throwing open the door to the study with a slam. William knew the door wouldn’t break easily, but… still. He looked at the man who had busted in. He seemed young, about 19 or 20, and he was short enough to match that assumption, too. That was not the case. His whitening hair betrayed the fact that this man, Dr Johan Krüger, much like William himself, was in his early 40’s. “You’re looking at me weirdly again. Aren’t you happy to see your best buddy in the whole wide world?”

William put down his pen. “Suppose I wasn’t?”

“Gack!” Johan gave a noise of pain before clutching at his chest dramatically. “Argh, my heart! You’re killing me, William! Have pity for a poor old man!” Ah, yes. Johan. As far as William knew, Johan was the only man in the world mad enough to call William by his first name, or consider himself his buddy. They had grown up together to some extent, but William still didn’t exactly know what he did to gain his head scientist’s trust. “Hm. I feel like I’ve forgotten something…” Johan tapped at his chin before suddenly realizing that he was actually holding something in his left hand. “Oh, right! Happy birthday!” Johan said, slamming the messily wrapped present on William’s desk.

“...What’s this? A gift?” William asked, placing a hand on it. The paper-wrapping was flimsy and had little Santas on it. Somehow, William wasn’t surprised Johan hadn’t bothered getting new wrapping for him.

“Yeah! For you!” Johan grinned, placing his hands on his hips, letting his white coat flow freely. As far as William knew, mad scientists usually shouldn’t wear their coats in unsanitized conditions, but Johan was an exception to almost everything. “See, all day all you do is work and work and work, and I know you consider working to be your hobby and all, but I really think you need some real free-time!”

Stolen novel; please report.

...A hobby. Such as… what, exactly? The package wasn’t too large, perhaps big enough to contain a football, hardly large enough for an ukulele. Even then, it wasn’t as though William had time for trivial un-evil things.

Still… he was curious as to what Johan might want for him. “Alright.” He quickly peeled off the wrapping, unveiling the gift to be a… “...A helmet?”

“A wh-, no, no! Well, kind of, but… It’s a VR-headset! The kind that connects to your neurons and stuff! We even helped develop some of the technology used in it, so why not? I’ve played a little myself, and it’s really fun. Totally relaxing, too. You’ll like it!”

William looked up from the helmet in his hands and met eyes with his head mad scientist. “I have not been informed of the development of any such technologies.” Johan gulped and glanced away. “Unless this can be used for the furthering of our evil empire, I do not see any reason to lend our power to the commonwealth.”

“Hey, wait, no!” Johan exclaimed, waving his hands frantically. “Give it a try before you discard it! It’s worth it, I swear!”

And for a hot second, William considered disregarding his friend fully. After all, this Vr-thing… It was all a toy for kids. Johan had no business playing it (instead of attending to his mad duties) and neither did William. Though… even then, William did trust Johan’s account. Somewhat. Enough to give it a try. “...Fine. Later tonight, after I’ve finished work and dinner I’ll have a go.”

Johan lit up. “Really!? Gee, that’s great! Oh, maybe we’ll meet in-game, and we can defeat other players together! It’d be so-,”

“Johan, I’ll try it.”

“-Yes sir. Heh. Wanna eat dinner toge-,”

“No, I’ve got enough on my plate as is. Now, leave me be,” William said, placing the headset to the side.

“Well… okay! See ya!” Johan said, and William gave him a meagre reply in the form of an absent nod. His head scientist nodded back, turned around and left. Right. Now, all William had to do was finish his paperwork, make a simple dinner and go to bed after reading up on the news. He’d return the headset to Johan in the morning, tell him it wasn’t for him, and then he’d go back to planning for the raid. That made sense.

And for a few work-filled hours, that remained true. The sun set over the vast city and once William ate his humble but nutritionally balanced meal, he headed to his armchair for a short time-out.

But the second he sat down and reached out for the day’s papers, he hesitated.

A memory flashed through his head. Playing with toys. Celebrating his birthday with cake instead of liquor. His mother and father by his side, both smiling.

...Maybe playing a game wouldn’t be so bad. He hadn’t heard much about VR, but if Johan recommended it so strongly… It must be worth it. After all, it ran on Hound technology.

With a final curse, William stood up and retrieved the piece of scrawny technology from his study. He had an hour before he had to be in bed to get all his required hours of sleep. It would be enough. Just a quick one-hour adventure. In and out. He had no idea what a VR-game was, but it couldn’t possibly take too long, right?

He swallowed down his iced spirit, placed himself in his leather armchair, and put the headset on his head.

It was black.

For a moment, that is.

Soon that darkness was replaced with a brilliant light, colours flashed softly before his eyes, a whirring surr entered his ear, and then…

Welcome to NeuroNet.

Please enter a name.

William didn’t answer.

Please enter a name.

-Ah, it was talking to him. Machinery these days… “William Ainsworth.”

Processing...

The name 'William Ainsworth' and detected Iris do not match any preregistered users.

Create new account?

William could already sense that this would be a pain. “Yes.”

User 'William Ainsworth' has been registered.

Would you like to boot up the installed game?

There was such a thing? Oh, well. William wasn’t about to question the robot, since the robot didn’t seem to question him. Johan must have installed it for him. “Yes.”

Booting Kingdom of Change...

Please wait...

...

Booting finished.

Starting Kingdom of Change.

And suddenly, William was no longer sitting in his chair looking at a bunch of computer messages. The floor shivered and escaped him, the walls melted and he was no longer in his comfy chair. He was elsewhere, standing in the middle of a forest, clad in his typical specially-tailored suit. Leaves rustled, wind tickled his cheeks, and for a moment, he forgot he wasn’t actually in a forest. A bright cheery sky stretched out above him, and he just stood there for a moment, intoxicated.

And then another screen appeared before him, floating right there in front of his eyes like a hallucination.

Welcome to Kingdom of Change!

Please select a username.

Another chain of these. “William Ainsworth.”

...Welcome, William Ainsworth!

Please select a class and starting kingdom.

At this message, two boxes popped up, both listing five different things.

Select class:

Fighter

Warrior

Believer

Mage

Rogue

-Well then. Interesting choices. In all truth, William had no idea what any of it meant. All he could do was make an assumption based on what he recognized from the name. He was not a believer, neither was he a rogue, despite his shadowy businesses. A mage… he was not. And although he was a fighter from head to toe, crafted from a fighter and honed in battle, he rather enjoyed the fifth option: warrior. A warrior was a fighter with honour. Could he truly say no to that? “Warrior.”

Class:

Warrior

Has been chosen.

And with that done, whatever it meant, he turned to the other box.

Select kingdom:

Rampin

Undulun

Inghir

Firland

Lom

That told him exactly nothing. Somehow, he could tell that you were supposed to know this stuff before playing, although why he could not tell. In the end, he just chose Undulun for no real reason.

Kingdom:

Undulun

Has been chosen.

And then, the scenery shifted again, the grass sweeping out from beneath his feet, his suit being switched with some sort of thick uncomfortable clothing he recognized from his old history-books, and the sky shifted and when he was aware of where he was again, he found himself standing in the middle of a busy, almost overcrowded plaza.

For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the sight.

Large spires towered in the distance alongside great big mountains. As usual, he was larger than almost everyone around him, but for the first time in his life, he was not avoided. People looked at him, and their eyes shone up in mild awe. They didn’t see a heinous villain, they saw a very tall and broad man.

He almost felt like he was apart of them. One of the normal civilians.

Maybe this game wouldn’t be all that bad?

And while William reconciled with his sudden descent into the normal, he became unaware that he was observed by another, someone who could only be described as a Teenage Girl.