Traejan

Time was tight. Traejan had less than thirteen seconds to reach the end of the corridor, burst through the barricades and cut the countdown.

“Almost there,” he whispered, cramped fingers losing their grip, slippery with sweat. The ratcheted-up opposition was relentless. “Almost there.”

He grimaced with the effort it took, having to blast everything that moved around him, but he reached the corner, with two seconds to spare, skidding to a stop before exposing himself. The triplet-gun raised high; he waited for the right moment.

Now!

Swinging into view, the grinning cyborg lowered his gatling blaster, the massive weapon spitting out fire.

“Not this time,” Traejan breathed as multiple bullets battered him, smiled. He’d positioned himself perfectly; in location, in time, and with enough life to absorb a few hits. He leveled his gun, squeezed the trigger – blew the monster to blood, bone and shrapnel.

Run, run, run!

He had only a few seconds to get to the gate, held his breath.

Get to the gate, stop the countdown, save the hostages, win! Five, four three two, jump!

He was through. He was finished. The world exploded around him in a kaleidoscope of light, cheers. All lives saved, ninety-three point seven five percent score! It took the game twice as long as usual to compile all his bonus credits.

Gasping, Traejan leaned back in the mersion couch, soaked with sweat and strain, but soothed by his achievement.

“Ah… best score ever.” He closed his aching eyes for the first time in an hour. “Try topping that!” he challenged.

The stacks of gutted tech around him offered nothing in return.

Stolen story; please report.

The silence of solitude made him sink further in the chair. As good as he’d gotten, Mende would have kicked his ass at this game, Kaelin too. Kyso was still alive, but he didn’t care; he had his own nostalgic dreamland to escape to. Traejan opened his eyes again, as he heard the game’s master voice begin. It matched the bright bold characters, the display floating above him: “Total victory! Zero casualties! You’ve achieved the penultimate level!”

Traejan tried a smile, gave up, let his body relax, gave in to the fatigue. He closed his eyes.

From somewhere a rhythmic alarm began to ring.

Traejan shifted irritably, tried to ignore it, looked back up at the field matrix, the details of his achievement. He rubbed tickling moisture from his close-cropped hair.

The alarm stopped. Then it rang, again and again.

“Streck…” he swore – tried to pull himself out of the couch, wincing at the pain, the stiffness of his muscles, the complaining flesh.

On the second attempt he succeeded.

Twisting carefully, he slipped his thin frame through the labyrinthine stacks of garbage tech in the room, towards the source of the annoying, throbbing, alarm. He swore as a sharp edged bracket snagged his trousers, ripped them as he tore free.

“What the hell?” Traejan muttered, clearing out the micronics that blocked the source of the ringing. A monitor, screen cracked, yet active, displayed large characters blinking rapidly: PORTAL POWER SURGE. It glowed brightly with graphic details pulsing in underlying fields.

The pattern of the alarm began anew – he pressed a key to silence it. Afraid, he jabbed the key again. The alarm restarted.

Excitement gripped him. His fingers, so nimble and effective in the mersion game, stumbled over the verification sequence. He flicked the send function, waited; impatiently tapping the board as the system slowly digested his requests.

Years… years of silence, and it was finally ringing! A power surge could mean just one thing – the portal at End’echea had been activated, the Consortia had come back!

Three seconds passed. It felt like an eternity.

“Verify,” he instructed. Then, exasperated, demanded: “Verify!”

The fields redrew into a new shape. The surge was confirmed.

“Verified. Confirm portal Activation!”

New fields lit up in the screen, clearly showing the flow of energy through the End’echea Mirror Port, spikes of excessive generation in the tenth-magnitude range. It was absolute confirmation.

“Yes!”

One of the fields dropped out. Traejan blinked. Another dropped. The rest vanished from the display.