Chapter 1: Trologue
A sweltering day in the desert. The closest oasis is several miles away. Nothing can be seen but vast dunes of blood-red sand, groups of dry giant tumbleweed, and whatever starved-looking animal life can survive in such a hostile expanse. It is in the middle of such a dreary environment that we first find ourselves. Without a break from the monotony, there’s nothing left to do but survey the horizon— if not for the spectacle occurring right under our noses. If you’ll direct your attention downwards…
Two people, having originally met by pure chance, are locked in a bout of mortal combat. What had started as a friendly greeting from one side had been turned into a fight by a sneak attack from the other. Now sand flies with every step, blood spatters from every wound, sweat pours into the parched earth, as they continue their dance to the death.
One of the combatants is a heavily armored berserker with a greatsword, the high quality of his black and brown gear making him appear as the perfect picture of an experienced warrior. Despite what his lumbering appearance would suggest, his strikes are all purposeful and refined if not downright elegant. From an outside perspective, it is clear that he’s controlling the pace of the fight. Always advancing, never needing to retreat even a single step, his blade of steel flashing under the rays of the beaming sun. His opponent will soon be cornered. Speaking of the opponent—
The other combatant is an extraordinarily scrawny young man dressed in nothing but a pair of baby blue swim trunks. He’s not even armed. Though he seems to be having an extraordinary performance dodging the sword attacks, he can’t avoid being grazed every few swings, and is bleeding profusely from several areas of his body. He’s spent the entire fight doing nothing but dodging and retreating, unable to parry or return even a single strike. The fact he can even continue standing is a miracle, as far as the berserker is concerned. And then. And then, and then, it happens again.
“Heh heh.”
A small, suppressed chuckle leaks from the scrawny boy’s lips. It’s happened several times throughout the fight already. It’s infuriating. Why should the one being driven back be laughing? Even if the boy had started the fight, he’s currently losing and losing badly. But, despite how hard the berserker is swinging his blade, he can’t land a finishing blow or even a single solid hit.
Stay calm. The berserker reminds himself that the boy must have lost at least a third of his health by this point, while he’s still almost in perfect condition. Nobody can dodge forever, not even an agile thief, and even glancing blows can kill eventually. He’ll keep at it slow and steady, and eventually before the might of his greatsword the boy will fall.
But then, all of a sudden— an opening!
The boy tries to take yet another step back, but finds his path blocked. He’s finally backed against the side of a rather large sand dune. Seizing his opportunity, the berserker unleashes a wide horizontal slash, leaving the boy only two escape options: up or down. Not wanting to risk a jump, the boy decides to flatten himself against the sandy ground— but that was the berserker’s trap.
“Haaaaaaagghh!”
With a yell of exertion, the berserker stops his sword mid-swing so that the flat of the blade rests suspended over the boy’s prostrated form. He then lifts his blade upwards slightly, assuming the stance for a crushing downward blow with the flat of the greatsword: advanced sword technique Flattening Swing. The boy seems to realize that he’s trapped. His arms extend defensively, his eyes briefly widen—
And a smirk appears on his face.
“It should work here. Activate Fleeing Guard.”
As the scrawny boy briefly mumbles something under his breath, the berserker swings his greatsword down with great fury. The flat of his sword smashes directly into the boy’s crossed arms, landing a solid crushing blow on the boy’s body. And just like that, the battle’s over. So the berserker thinks.
In reality, the berserker is right. The battle is over. Just not in the way he believes it to be.
The boy’s health depletes rapidly, but doesn’t quite reach 0. In the same moment, his body, crushed by the berserker’s blade, begins to receive knockback. He’s pushed further and further downwards by the weight of the greatsword, until he’s surrounded by a faint green glow.
Fleeing Guard takes effect, reducing the damage of the blow while increasing the distance he's knocked back by the force of the berserker’s strike. But still. Stuck between a greatsword to his front and a huge sand dune to his back, the boy’s body has nowhere to be knocked towards. Until— it disappears.
“Wha!?”
The berserker doesn’t even have time to finish his cry of confusion before he’s hit square in the center of his chest by an incredible impact. It all happened so fast that his eyes couldn’t even process what had occurred. If he had been able to, he would have seen the boy’s scrawny body simply phase into the sandy ground underneath it— and then come flying back out with the force of a rocket.
Both berserker and boy are launched into the air at a spectacular speed. The berserker, having received the full force of the boy’s sudden acceleration, groans and begins bleeding from a multitude of orifices. In the blink of an eye, he goes from having nearly all his health— to none. Slowly, slowly, even as he flies into the air, his body begins to fade into motes of twinkling red light.
As for the human cannonball— sorry, the boy— he ascends and ascends, shooting up so high he feels he could touch the clouds. But it can only last so long. Eventually, his rapid ascent is replaced by a brief floating period. And then he begins a steep, sharp descent.
“Aaaaaaaaaaah!!! Woooooo!!!”
Spreading his arms like a skydiver, the boy welcomes the fall, making celebratory noises the entire way. He continues this childlike behavior until he crashes into the sandy desert floor— dying instantly.
And his body, like the berserker’s before him, slowly begins to fade into motes of red light.
So ends the battle in the northern Sanguis Desert between a level 43 berserker-class giant equipped with a rare greatsword and a level 15 thief-class human boy equipped with absolutely nothing:
With the unarmed boy’s (dubious?) victory.
----------------------------------------
#
“Hah! Good old Rocket Rat glitch. I hope the developers never fix this tech.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
Upon confirming the results of his digital duel through his computer monitor, 16-year old Diegi Martinez leans back in his plush gaming chair. Reclining in the comfort of his bedroom and turning to face his favorite stuffed animal, he begins using his right pointer finger to tap the fingers on his left hand and explain the steps for his exploit.
“1, equip as little as possible to reduce weight and increase knockback. 2, make sure your avatar has nowhere to go either forwards, downwards, or backwards. 3, get hit by a strong enough blunt force attack. 4, activate Fleeing Guard to further increase the amount of knockback taken. 5, sit back and enjoy the show. Ya break the whole collision system, get pushed into a solid, and then the game’s autocorrect displacement launches ya back out. Can’t have two solids existing in the same place, after all. It’s not even a proper attack, but you do a crap ton of damage with the force of impact alone. Hah!”
He sighs, deeply content with his execution. Once again, once again, he’s done it again.
“How many is that? 97? Or 98? I’ve taken out so many VR pros with all their fancy gear using nothin’ but this dinky old keyboard and mouse that I’m startin’ to lose count. Man, this game rules-”
“Shut the fuck up, of course a degen like you runs Fleeing Guard and uses glitches. Learn to play the game.”
*bloop*
Diegi’s expositing is suddenly interrupted by a slightly crackly middle-aged voice. It’s the voice of the player he just defeated. After leaving a few vitriolic words behind, the other player disconnects with a huff.
Oh, right. Diegi had forgotten to kick the other player from the “death chat.” In the game he was playing, MYTH Infinite Fantasy, there was a setting where players involved in a deadly fight could hear each other for a short while after one or both died. While the other player could have left at any time, they had chosen to stay, probably because Diegi immediately began talking as soon as he won. Normally, such a gesture would be indicative of a desire to give advice or consoling words. Instead, Diegi had bragged and explained how he won.
Eh, it didn’t really matter. Though he hadn’t meant to be this specific time, Diegi is a mocking kind of guy.
Cracking his knuckles and rotating his shoulders, Diegi begins to reflect on just how far he’s come in his new favorite pastime:
Trolling in MMO-RPGs.
----------------------------------------
##
Role Playing Games, also known as RPGs.
A vast and hugely popular genre of gaming, spanning several mediums encompassing word games to board games to video games. For our current purposes, we focus on the latter. RPG video games are known for their in-depth storytelling and worldbuilding that allow for the player to be truly immersed in the experience. Often, these games tell a complete story from start to finish through game components like battles, minigames, NPC conversations, and cutscenes. Sometimes, the game only has a set beginning but then branches off into a myriad of different activities the player can choose to complete in any order. Regardless of their specific format, RPGs are widely loved around the world.
Massively Multiplayer Online, also known as MMO.
A specifier for online games. If a video game is deemed an MMO, it means that it is meant to be played by many people at once. MMOs are often lauded for the sense of community they tend to inspire in their playerbase.
Put these two concepts together, and you’re left with an MMORPG— a game that has storytelling and roleplaying features… but instead of there being only one human stand-in surrounded by NPCs, the majority of “characters” are in fact live players.
Of all the MMORPGs available in the year 2040, Diegi’s current favorite is MYTH Infinite Fantasy, an opinion shared by a vast majority of gamers around the world. While other games continue to hold players, MYTH outperforms its competitors by an extreme margin while only having had a year since release.
MYTH, like most popular MMORPGs, has a very active community. The vast majority of players are kind to each other, and even contribute to the general welfare of the game by sharing tips and tricks. Most, but not all. Among the player base are those with bad attitudes, anger management issues, or just plan indifference about the welfare of other players. These players generally aren’t liked, but aren’t seen as the worst either. The title of the worst kind of player to run into falls solely on the shoulders of the trolls. These are the players who actively ridicule others over text/voice chat, abusing gaps in the game’s programming or otherwise employing incredibly annoying strategies, making it their job to ruin others’ experiences for their own humor and pleasure.
And Diegi Martinez is the embodiment of a troll.
----------------------------------------
###
Deciding not to continue playing, Diegi ignores the “respawn” button floating on his screen and turns off his computer. Might as well end the session on a high note.
Yawning, he turns and looks at the clock near his bed. 9 PM on a Sunday. He’d been playing for longer than he thought, but he still has enough time to do his homework for school tomorrow. Probably.
“Man, why should I even do my work…? Tomorrow’s my birthday!”
After grumbling to himself, Diegi comes up with a great idea and yells down the stairs to ask his mother a question.
“Hey, Mama, is it fine if I skip my work since it’s my birthday tomorrow? I have good grades anyways, a few missing assignments won’t hurt too bad, eh?”
The response is instant.
“NO. And I hope you’ve already started instead of playing that silly game of yours!”
Yeeesh. He’s not getting out of this one.
Diegi briefly sighs before turning to his desk and picking up his pen. It’s going to be a long night.
----------------------------------------
####
“This is bad… I’m seriously boutta fall asleep…”
Diegi Martinez, who is currently sitting at his desk sifting through a pile of work due the next day, rubs his eyes and looks at the clock near his bed. Digital, of course— by 2040, analog clocks are a thing of the past. 11:30 PM.
“Damn it, teachers and their stupid midnight deadlines! If they’re forcing me to wake up early and drag my butt to a building, might as well make work due when I see ‘em in the morning.”
Diegi’s been patiently waiting for the day when fully virtual school would become a reality, but it looks that it’ll be a while yet until something like that happens. Too bad, he’d heard that it had occurred before in the famous “COVID” pandemic he wasn’t alive to see. In the meantime, he simply has no choice but to soldier on.
“Yeah, because I’m a good kid who listens to his mother and does all his homework… yeah right. Alright! I’ve decided! It’s time to- OW SHIT!”
In a show of melodrama, Diegi stands up and kicks his chair to the side. He then proceeds to spend the next few seconds hopping up and down on one foot and massaging his big toe.
After a quick recovery from the horrors of toe-stubbing, Diegi resumes his routine and strikes a dramatic pose with his hands on his hips.
“Like I was saying, it’s time to be a responsible adult and quit while I’m ahead!”
The empty bedroom offers its silence as applause. From its place on the windowsill, Diegi’s stuffed giraffe Neck (named when he was three) gives him a glare. At least, Diegi decides to pretend like it’s glaring at him.
“Oh come on Neck, I looked pretty cool just then, didn’t I? Besides, what’s a boy to do when he needs some sleep? Can’t do homework on an empty tank.”
Diegi waits for a few seconds, as if expecting a response, then smacks himself on the forehead and laughs.
“Yeesh, I really need to stop talking to stuffed animals. Well, that’s it. I’m off to sleep…”
“AHHHHH!”
Diegi suddenly jumps and looks around wildly. He could have sworn he’d heard another voice in the room just a moment ago. But nobody was there. Just Diegi himself, and…
“Neck! You can talk!”
Taking this newest development in stride, Diegi gets on his knees and waddles over to the window, silently scooping Neck up and nuzzling him against his face.
“I knew the day would come! As long as I gave you enough love and care! Neck, Neck, NECK!”
“DIEGI! IF YOU DON’T STOP SCREAMING I’M COMING UP THERE! GO TO BED! AND YOU BETTER NOT BE WATCHING ANYTHING SUSPECT, MOANING ABOUT NECKS!”
Diegi’s Mother yells up from her bedroom on the lower floor of their house. Instantly freezing upon hearing her voice, Diegi quickly responds with a “Yes Mama,” before once again hugging his stuffed giraffe tightly and whispering “Neck, Neck, Neck.”
Diegi nods in agreement.
Diegi, in a manner most unbefitting of a soon-to-be 17 year old, nods again and continues to blubber on his childhood toy.
“I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Neck.”
“Then it’s a good idea.”
“Huh?”
“You know what Neck, you’re so right.”
It’s not like Diegi needs an excuse to play MYTH Infinite Fantasy, the game’s basically taken over his life at this point. Still a bit sleep-deprived and delirious from hearing his beloved stuffed animal carry a conversation with him, Diegi wanders over to his desktop and runs the process to open the app for MYTH. A thought occurs to him as the game loads.
“Eh, Neck, won’t Mama be mad if she catches me playing the game? She might come up and check on me after I started yelling earlier.”
“What?”
“Neck, I don’t know why you’re talking like an old hipster, but I trust you anyway.”
As the blinking blue loading screen indicates that the game is ready to launch, the clock by Diegi’s bed gives a small chime. 12:00. It’s midnight. Diegi is officially 17 years old.
A small pop-up message panel appears on Diegi’s monitor.
[ Happy Birthday Trolegi! ]
Diegi laughs at the appearance of his in-game name and prepares to close the message so he can start playing, when he abruptly starts to lean over in his chair. Slowly, but unavoidably. He feels so tired. He doesn’t know why. Leaning forward, falling forward, until his forehead touches the screen of his monitor—
Diegi can’t fathom why Neck would be saying such mean things to him. He’s only treated his beloved stuffed animal with the utmost love and care. But then— Diegi gets an idea. A really freakin’ good idea.
What if… what if the voice actually WASN’T Neck this entire time?
Yup. You’re thinking what I’m thinking. But no matter how stupid they may be, those are indeed the last words that run through Diegi’s mind before his eyes close and he sinks into the darkness.