A fiery blast splintered the stout, studded ironwood gates of the walled city of Liarum. The thunderous battlecry of three thousand soldiers echoed up to the heavens, as they rushed through the breach and into the city streets.
“Mercy for the unarmed!”
Those words boomed from on high, as if spoken by a god, and were then echoed by the besieging soldiers. The soldiers hardly reacted to the order, merely taking it in stride. But the defenders, and the huddled commonfolk, were stunned. Some dared to dream that these words would be honored, and their families would be spared the usual wanton slaughter. A brave few went to the windows of their shops and homes and looked up.
High above the tangle of buildings and lane-ways, a man floated aloft in the sky, high above the main street. He wore the flowing robes of a mystic or a sorcerer over a military uniform, but this mystic was not changing the weather, summoning phantom soldiers, or hurling down balls of fire. He merely presided over the capture of the city while floating peacefully overhead.
Standing on the ramparts of the city’s keep, a stout warrior took up his bow. “The city may be lost, but my honor compels me to fight you until my last breath is spent!”
The arrow made a splintering sound as it shattered impotently against a spherical barrier around the sorcerer. With this display, the remaining defenders cast down their weapons and held up their hands.
From on high, the sorcerer looked down. Those people of the city that were brave enough to enter the streets knelt and cried out for mercy. The sorcerer’s triumphant smile waned. Sometimes, even in moments of victory, this game made him feel horrible.
The chat overlay in the corner of his vision didn’t help him to feel better.
UniLord420: POG! Didn’t even lift a finger! I don’t get how you pull this shit off without carrying.
CmdrCharmander: Nice Prospero, now raze ‘em to the ground.
CritsOrGTFO: Nah, dumbass move P. You’re literally sparing soldiers who ideologically oppose you. They’re just gonna turn around and stab you in the back. Real winners wipe garrisons. Good luck surviving the assassination attempt and retaking this city three weeks from now.
Here4thelulz: I clipped that weaksauce general’s arrow at the end lol, that shit should be in a movie.
On and on it went. The collective consciousness of the internet was, at times, terrifying thing to behold. Especially when it was directed at you.
“Alright, alright guys. Relax,” Prospero said, speaking quietly for the benefit of his spectators. “The point of this battle was not to ‘wipe out my ideological foes’, you creeps. Liarum is the cultural center of this region of Vallon. Its not enumerated in the mechanics anywhere, but because of its lore it basically comes with a subconscious legitimacy buff in the minds of the NPCs. If you burn it to the ground, you’re basically declaring yourself an enemy of everyone who subscribes to that culture. Besides which, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
Prospero floated down and strolled along the main road leading up to the steps of the city’s castle. His soldiers parted and faced him attentively as he strode toward the seat of power. As he walked, one of his officers rushed from the side of the street to fall into step behind him. She wore silver armor and kept her long brunette hair tied in a tidy bun at the back of her head.
“My Lord, the city is secure. We’ve captured almost seven hundred among their garrison,” said Hannah Loeftgren, his vanguard general.
“Fine work, General. Have them escorted to the castle steps,” said Prospero.
“Yes, my lord. Gently, my Lord?” she asked.
“Gently,” Prospero confirmed.
UniLord420: Gently
Here4thelulz: Gently omegalul
DeezCuts: I just got here, does this RP nerd never break character? lol
PFan69: Did someone say GENTLY?
BaldingGamer: Small dick energy, P.
As he neared the steps, the castle’s gate swung open. Two of his strongest officers held the enemy general by the arms, yanking him down the steps.
“Gently, my friends, gently!” Prospero admonished them, sparking another wave of channel-specific memes in the chat.
The two officers set the enemy general down in front of Prospero, and gently pressed him down to his knees. They bound his arms and legs.
“I was entrusted with the defense of this city,” the enemy general roared, speaking as much for the benefit of the people and troops of the city as for Prospero and his troops. He raised his head to meet Prospero’s eyes, his angry glare chilling Prospero to his core. “I may have been defeated today, but know this. Even in death, I will haunt you. I will not rest until you lay slain and my Lord has unified the country.”
CritsOrGTFO: See dude? No reasoning with NPCs. Lop off his head and be done with it or suffer the consequences.
CmdrCharmander: You could put him and his soldiers on a big pyre and burn them alive with the whole city!
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UniLord420: @CmdrCharmander Jesus dude, what?
Prospero pulled out a knife from his belt. The enemy general held his head high, baring his neck, and closed his eyes. Prospero walked around him and cut his binds.
UniLord420: Dude. Gigachad move.
Here4thelulz: Gigachad
PFan69: Gigachad
CritsOrGTFO: Dumbass RPer
The enemy general looked up in stunned disbelief as his hands were freed, only to see Prospero cutting the binds on his legs.
“Sir!” one of his officers warned.
Prospero responded with a raised hand. “It’s alright.” He stepped back and gestured for the enemy general to get to his feet. Then he turned his back to his enemy and used his magic to raise his voice that all gathered might hear him.
“Noble defenders of Liarum, I am Prospero. Your city is the heart of Southern Vallon, whose elite for too long have failed their people while empowering the corrupt and the greedy. I know that you are only people, desperate to navigate these tumultuous waters, so I will not shed any more of your blood than is necessary to liberate you and improve your lives. General,” he said, turning to address the enemy general. “You are indeed a man of heroic caliber and unshakable honor. If you wish to return to your master, you may go. You need but leave your weapons and armor here.”
“My fellows,” he said, addressing the people, “If your masters are beloved to you, you shall be allowed to pack your belongings and go to them. If you choose to remain, you shall become citizens of our new state and be subject to our laws and our laws alone. The soldiers must surrender their weapons, horses, and armor before they leave, but otherwise they may go as well.”
Prospero turned and set a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “I leave the rest to you, General. I shall retire now.”
With that, Prospero logged out of the game and took off his headset. He glanced at his stream, where the chat was still flying by with a mix of extreme praise and extreme dissent, and vitriolic arguments on his behalf. He sighed and clicked the ‘end stream’ button. Then he crashed down into his chair, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.
“People on the internet are terrifying.”
* * *
His day job was less eventful. Some who had the luxury and disposable income to devote all of their time to Unity Online never stopped managing their efforts of conquest, but Prospero—or rather, Mark—didn’t have that luxury. Instead, he spent as many hours a day as he could stomach on his consulting work.
A week went by after the siege of Liarum. In that time he researched venture capital firms for one client, the next he analyzed imaging from another client’s medical device trials. There was no time to concern himself with which faction would ultimately win the game; not while he was struggling to pay his bills and keep food on the table. And true, some people made a killing by streaming the game full-time, but Mark wasn’t one of them. His viewership was modest at best, which he attributed to a lack of free time and never having leaned into the hyper-aggressive, hyper-confident warmongering persona that tended to command the most interest on the platform.
So he was surprised when he received an e-mail from the developers of Unity Online, Unity Game Labs. He had never been reached out to before, neither by advertisers or developers or even other streamers. This was a shocking first for him. His confusion only mounted when he saw the subject line: “Invitation: The Unity Experiment”
“Dear Prospero,
Let me first thank you for playing Unity Online! Your interest and dedication to our game have contributed to a boom in community engagement and activity. My staff are always delighted to watch the highlights from your streams, and they have prompted much discussion around the office.
In particular, the Research & Social Initiatives Department has taken an interest in your play style and your message, and would like to invite you to participate in an experiment we will be conducting using our new game engine, which we hope will become the sequel to Unity Online. I have no doubt that your presence would radically alter the results of the experiment, so I strongly encourage you to consider our invitation.
If you are inclined, I would ask that you make arrangements to quit whatever jobs you may currently be holding, as the experiment will be a full-time commitment and is projected to last for several months or potentially even years. Rest assured that no matter your current income, we are prepared to make a lucrative and competitive offer to compensate you for your time and your services.
I will be the hiring manager for this role, so if you have any questions about compensation, the work, or the terms of the agreement we’d have you sign, feel free to reply to this email and I will be happy to answer your questions.
Best,
Dr. Laura Fourier, PhD, MBA
Executive Director of Research & Social Initiatives, Unity Game Labs”
Mark sat back in his chair and re-read the email, scratching his chin the entire time. He did his best not to let the butterflies of this attention and approval distract him from a rational analysis of what he was reading.
“Cryptic. Interesting,” he mused. He clicked the reply button.
“Dear Dr. Fourier,
I was happy to hear from you! I never would have expected anyone at UGL knew about me, much less enjoyed my streams. I would be delighted to hear the specifics of your offer. I can certainly make time in my schedule to take a call with you and discuss the details of the research you’re conducting. Is there a time and day that would work best for you?
Best regards,
Mark Kimbell
Principal, Kimbell Research Consulting”
Mark scoffed at himself. Putting his title and company name was definitely unnecessary, but if he wanted to negotiate for reasonable pay he needed to make it sound like he was capable of earning more than he really was. He hit send, and the waiting game began.
It was two days later that he finally heard back. He received a sparse email with a date, a time, and a place. UGL’s headquarters in Seattle. It also contained a link to a contractor portal, where Mark could submit receipts for his travel expenses to be reimbursed. No limits, no strings attached. Mark could only frown, impressed, by the lengths they were willing to go to for the interest they were expressing for him.
“Guess I’m going to Seattle,” Mark said to himself. He scoffed as he was looking at flights. He hovered over the direct, first-class flight. It cost four times more, totaling almost $1600, and added almost no value. He squinted at the option. UGL was picking up the tab, and they were a multi-billion dollar company. He would get the cash-back points on his card, which meant free money for him spending company money on something overpriced.
“Of all the manifestations of power…” Mark said quietly to himself. He selected an economy class seat and made the purchase. He was on his way to something new, something exciting. But he could never have known that with that one click, he was starting down a path of no return that would see his life irrevocably altered.