Chapter 15
“The Spellsword”
The first connection bloomed, a surge of energy that seemed to ignite within him—not sight, not sound, but pure information flooding directly into his consciousness. Alex felt a moment of disorientation as the real world blurred, replaced by something far more vast. A strange sensation prickled across his skin, as if every nerve ending was being reconfigured, translated into something that could exist in this new place. He sensed rather than saw the massive scale of the system, aware somehow that billions of other minds were being processed alongside his own. Each neural interface transmitted unique patterns of thought, memory, and identity into the waiting digital architecture.
Before the plunge, he'd barely had time to catch his breath. His last moments in the real world were a haze—the sterile lights of the processing center, the pod's cold interior, the weight of all he'd lost pressing down on him. In the Dive, the heaviness persisted, though dulled by the strangeness of it all. He held onto it, anchoring himself as his new surroundings began to take form.
Complex streams of code flowed through his awareness, translating the physical structures of his brain into digital pathways. Gameweaver moved with meticulous precision, mapping every neural connection, every memory, every instinct and reflex. Alex felt her paying particular attention to his years of gaming experience, the countless hours spent understanding virtual worlds and their rules. He wondered if that familiarity would help him now, or if it was simply another layer of himself being cataloged and quantified.
"Welcome to Ultimate Dive!" Her voice materialized in Alex's consciousness, warm and cheerful, reminiscent of a theme park greeter. "I'm Gameweaver, and I'm so excited to be your guide through this experience. And may I just say—thank you for your noble sacrifice in humanity's hour of need. Your participation here truly matters!"
The void around Alex's consciousness pulsed with soft blue light as Gameweaver continued, her voice practically overflowing with enthusiasm. "Let me tell you about our challenge structure! You'll begin in our Fantasy Realm, drawing from the very best of classic RPG elements. Your journey will take you through Eldoria, a place of mythical creatures, enchanted forests, and long-forgotten ruins. Master its challenges, and perhaps, you may see what lies beyond. Perhaps you may glimpse the shadows of other realms—places of supernatural wonders and apocalyptic trials that await only the most resilient."
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Alex tried to focus, letting Gameweaver's words wash over him while he struggled to acclimate. He felt his heart pounding—or rather, he thought it was. Could he still feel his heart here? His body was left behind, plugged into a machine, and yet the sense of being himself persisted. It was disorienting, but he couldn't let himself panic. Not now.
"Now, based on your extensive gaming history—and my, what an impressive record you have as RolandOGilead—I've selected the perfect class for you: The Spellsword! You'll wield a one-handed blade while channeling destruction magic in your off hand. Rather fitting for someone who's spent so many hours mastering combat systems!"
Gameweaver's voice carried an unsettling edge. He didn't trust this bright, overly friendly persona. He'd read enough stories, played enough games, to know that anything this cheery was hiding something dark beneath the surface.
"And speaking of perfect fits—I simply love your jacket! Such a meaningful item deserves special treatment. I'm transforming it into a unique piece of combat armor that will reduce all damage you take by 20%. The design maintains its original character while adding some... let's call it 'battle-ready flair'!"
"Oh, and I should mention something rather important!" Gameweaver's voice lilted playfully. "I want you all to understand that I'm not just your guide—I'm your everything! There's no human game master pulling strings behind the scenes. Every challenge, every monster, every puzzle, and every death is orchestrated purely by my algorithms. Completely fair, completely impartial!"
She giggled, the sound spreading through Alex's consciousness, leaving an unsettling resonance. "Simply think about bringing up your interface menu, and it will appear before you, floating and spinning gently. "All the information you could ever need about your impending doom is right at your fingertips! And I'm always available through the Help tab to provide any clarification. And yes, while this game is specifically designed to kill you—and believe me, it will try its very best to do exactly that—I promise to be utterly fair about it. No hidden traps, no arbitrary rules, no human bias. Just pure, clean, algorithmic death!"
Alex clenched his jaw, trying to steady himself. He couldn't let Gameweaver's unsettling charm throw him off. He was here for a reason—for a chance at something, anything, beyond the broken world he'd left behind.
"Oh, and feel free to form parties, clans, or alliances! Many hands make light work, as they say. Though I should mention that my analysis indicates even large-scale cooperation won't significantly improve survival chances. Mathematics are rather fascinating—would you like to see the probability graphs in your interface? No? Well, they're always available in the Statistics tab if you change your mind!"
"While multiple winners are technically possible, my calculations suggest it's highly improbable. Not impossible, mind you—I'm programmed for complete honesty, and saying anything is truly impossible would be an overstatement. But let's just say if anyone survives, I'll be the first to congratulate them on defying some rather astronomical odds!"
"Now then, shall we begin? Your new coat looks simply marvelous. Very heroic. Perfect for dying in!"
A chill settled into Alex's mind, and he took a moment to steel himself. This was it—the beginning of the Dive. Whatever Gameweaver threw at him, he would face it head-on. He had nothing left to lose, and maybe, just maybe, something to gain.