Shelara called out, "Oh... Uh, she said she wanted some time to herself. I think she went upstairs."

I headed upstairs, and after some searching, I did find her up on the... are these battlements or ramparts? I've never been clear on the distinction. In any event, Chrysta was up there, currently hopping about, running back and forth, even just spinning in place with the biggest grin on her face. Like me, she'd gone with human, creating a sort of embellished version of herself rather than trying to go completely into a fantasy character. Her character was red-haired with some slight curls, with a well-toned physique, her 'runway model turned smith' look as she'd gone over repeatedly in the run-up to launch. I knew what this was, and I took some time to hang back and let her have her moment until she eventually tripped and fell while trying to do a spinning jump, and landed in a sitting position, "You alright?"

Chrysta was smiling, but there were the beginnings of tears in her eyes, "Doin' great, sugar. Just playin' around up here."

I offered my hand, and helped her to her feet, "So, you seem to be adjusting well."

Amber eyes looked into mine, and there was a tinge of sadness there, "Yeah... I just didn't think it was appropriate to be showin' off how happy I am, y'know?"

I let out a slow breath, and shook my head, "You shouldn't have to feel bad about it, Chrysta."

In the real world, we'd met Chrysta on a Minecraft server we'd gotten into. The server was... well, it was pretty much an anarchy server without calling itself an anarchy server, and we'd teamed up with her out of necessity to protect ourselves from the players who'd been on the server longer. Eventually, we invited her along for some FFXIV stuff that she loved, and she became a permanent part of the group. Chrysta stretched a bit, "I know I shouldn't feel bad, but like... I can walk, I can run and jump! Everyone else is hurtin' now, and I..."

We shared a short embrace, and I looked into her eyes, "You don't wanna rub your joy in their faces, and I get that. Thing is, I think happy is gonna get clutch real quick around here."

Chrysta nodded sheepishly, "I get it, darlin', but... how do you tell folks that the thing they're so horrified by is your dream come true?"

I had no good answers for her save one, "Whatever happens, I always have your back."

We stayed there in the embrace for a few more moments until Chrysta broke it off, "It's gettin' late, darlin'."

"Yeah, we should get to bed," I replied, looking up at the moon and stars above.

Chrysta smiled seductively before turning to leave, and called out over her shoulder, "And you haven't even bought me a drink yet."

I admit, I lingered on holding her hand as she turned and walked away, but now wasn't the time, and God knows I'd already taken a shot at that relationship with her and burned it to the ground. We finally turned in for the night, getting some much-needed sleep. My dreams weren't helping me there, dreams of watching my friends die, sometimes by mobs, sometimes by getting disconnected, and a server crash. I tossed and turned, but I got my rest according to the game. I used a basin to splash water on my face to dispel the nightmares, got dressed, and stepped out into the hall, I could see that I wasn't alone in my sleep issues, "Militia, stand to attention to receive dailies!"

Daily quests were just that, little quests that were done each day, designed most usually for things like moving up within a faction or gathering a resource for specific gear, giving them the nickname faction-grinding, and dailies for the quests. The militia starter quest was given the title "Boot's Camp" and consisted of a regimen that included learning to stand at attention, and other daily items of note to being a part of a military unit. As everyone got into position, I followed the quest instructions, showing my party how to stand at attention properly, "According to the logbooks of the militia, we have a variety of quests that need to be completed. First, we'll learn stances such as attention, at-ease, and various arms positions. Once we're through that, we'll grab breakfast, and then we have daily gear maintenance that includes the gear around our barracks room.

"Upon completion, we'll be going out to the training yard for practice until lunch. After lunch, Each of our four parties will put together a team of four to go out on patrol around the city. For those of you who are not selected for this, we'll be assigning you some other tasks, like various quests around the city to help us start unlocking abilities."

One of our team, a Dwarf Warrior held up a hand and looked to me, "I'm Uthar. Is there any chance of getting better food... sir?"

I sighed. The food was serviceable, but yeah, eating this stuff every day was going to drain the will, "The fastest way to get there is for some or all of you to work on the Cooking skill. There is a trainer for this at the main guildhall with the other craft trainers."

Uthar nodded, "I would like to volunteer to become the unit cook if I can."

Nods from around the room informed me that everyone was very much in favor of it, "Very well, then. We also need other crafters across the spectrum. Leatherworkers, Smiths, Herbalists, pretty much everything you can think of. Whoever isn't on patrol, pick a craft to begin working on. I'd suggest starting with something relevant to your job, then branching out from there."

I ran them through the initial points of the quest, demonstrating the stances until the abilities themselves unlocked for everyone. The neuralink that controlled the game gave everyone the ability to access these and other abilities without having to 'activate' them like they would in a regular game. There was no button to press, so it was just a matter of thinking the action for it to become reality. Certain abilities would appear along the bottom of the screen, but mostly for measuring cooldowns.

As we completed what would become our morning routine, we got small notifications of how our stats were progressing. Everyone unlocked their militia stances and developed their maintenance skill by going over their gear. It was kind of weird how some of these things were actual skills within the system, but it was only odd within a game context. Of course, knowing how to make your bed was a skill issue, but it just didn't come up in games really. With everyone ready to move, we got to the mess hall, a fairly simple affair, being just a large room with rows of tables with benches along them, and a separate table with chairs that was put off for the militia commanders. I got through the line and got my food. It was very basic, a roll, some eggs, potatoes, and what I think might be spinach, along with a mug of hot tea. I thanked the servers as I went through the line, and noticed a small trickle of improvements to things like my Charisma, Speech, and slight reputation within the militia, "Huh, neat."

I got to sit up with the other leaders, and we mostly focused on eating. We did have to handle a couple of squabbles with our people, just ordinary stuff for it being this early and no one here being particularly militarily inclined. Once they realized that demonstrating manners upped some stats, things calmed noticeably, and we got through the rest of the meal in relative peace. Say what you will of gamers, but once we understood there was a mechanical benefit to an action we made the most of it. After breakfast, we headed out by unit, and I got everyone to activate their boots to march in step. It was small, but people needed to get used to using their abilities, and it kept everyone together as we entered the training yard, where another Sergeant was waiting for us to begin, limmed in the gold glow that said he had a quest for us, "Alright, recruits! FALL IN!"

We all got into position, and the Sergeant started taking us through the morning exercise. The NPC militiamen were there as well, giving a cheat sheet on doing the individual exercises. They were very basic, but they were still working up our physical stats. The caster jobs were clearly running into issues here, their points specced into the mental half of the Attributes. Acolytes took breaks to cast minor buffs to help with recuperation, and we made it through until the quest completion hit. The Sergeant was now limmed in silver, designating that we could redo this quest. From there, we got cycled through basic combat training which was really just us taking turns striking a training dummy. It still gave us some skill XP, but all throughout as we completed various facets of the training, we were also gaining reputation with the militia. After combat was drill training, building up abilities related to state of readiness within a unit, and I got the rather pleasant dinging noise that let me know one of my stats had improved, but I held off on checking it.

Once everyone had made it through their first round of training, I called a break, "Alright, everyone use your rest ability and get some water."

The rest ability improved your recuperation from fatigue but had the distinct downside that you couldn't do anything else while you were using it. I grabbed a seat on a bench, and let the ability run its course before pulling out my Character Journal. My Charisma had risen, now a four. For Hunters, Charisma was our dump stat, but the upside of that was the lower a stat was, the more XP you got toward it. For me, Agility would be the hardest -well, least easy- to raise right now. I and a number of others ran back through the routines again. We wouldn't get reputation boosts, but it was still extra work on our stats, and I needed to get used to using my not only my bow but my hatchet. I needed to make a choice on whether to settle on shield use or dual-wielding, but since I had neither a shield nor an extra weapon, I would have to hold off.

Arkadi actually worked out a cute little trick during training: Using March Step during training locked him into rhythm with the NPCs, keeping his motions precisely in step with them, which was neat. We all had an easier time of things after that, with everyone starting and completing exercise at the same time rather than having to personally keep pace. Eventually, we unlocked our own Calisthenics ability, able to now do the workouts on our own outside of the yard time. We kept up training for the morning, and then after lunch, I grabbed Chrysta, Shelara, and Velres, a Dracon Acolyte. We would be the ones going out on patrol, releasing the other for the afternoon.

The four watch groups took up patrols in the four quadrants of the city, North, South, East, and West. Our group got South, which put us heading back toward the spawn area. No one else wanted it, and I can't strictly blame them. It had been just over a day since we'd learned we were trapped and no one was precisely thrilled to go back to where most of the server likely was at this point.

We progressed in a steady march through the streets, no carriages to speed us along this time. Along the route, we had simple random encounters, things like someone pulling a snatch and grab, to which Shelara and I had to chase them down, then return the stolen items to the vendor and use our Detain ability. Or someone needed minor help here and there. There were opportunities for all of us, but we got more anxious as we got closer to spawn.

And we were right too. The area in front of the cathedral was packed to the gills with players, thousands and thousands of them. Initial panic and terror now had people trapping themselves in the starting area, unsure of what to even do. Some showed obvious signs of the fatigued condition, having not slept, and everyone was looking back and forth. Shelara swore under her breath next to me, and Chrysta came up next to me, "This ain't good, hon."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I nodded and considered my next action. If things kept going like this, the players would start dropping off just from the various negative effects of hunger and exhaustion. Alright, let's try something. I used three blasts of my boatswain's whistle to summon extra militiamen, snagging immediate attention, and the rest of the party did so just after me. We formed into a marching group, the militia helping cut a swath through the various players to the giant fountain in front of the cathedral. I stood up on the side of it, turned to face people, and clapped my hands twice as I had before, "I need everyone's attention, please!"

The audience looked to me. I was wearing militia gear, and leading my own small army, the attention was mine, "I am Lugh, a starting Unit Commander with the Thirteenth Valorian Militia! I know you're all scared, and that's absolutely normal! None of us saw this coming, none of us know how to get home, and none of us are without our fears! However, you can't keep waiting around out here for some solution to fall out of the sky! If it was coming, it would have happened by now!"

The crowd didn't take that point well, and I saw people flinching. I hated what I was saying, but they needed to hear this, "That does not mean there isn't hope, but you have to move! Look for guilds that provide room and board, training, and equipment."

And that's when I saw it: They didn't even know where to go. In the vast overwhelming majority of MMOs, there was a specified track for everyone: Do your tutorial, do some starter quests, and get on the MSQ track. A to B to C, keep moving. Without that, and with the threat of death, many players had become trapped in their own position, not sure what was safe. One of the braver sorts, a dwarf, spoke up, "Oh, so we all just join your militia then?"

They were all scared and didn't know which way to go, so they'd done what masses of panicked people had done for all of human history, they started pulling each other down, like how crabs would pull their own compatriots down in the crab pot, trapping them all, "This does not have to be the militia! it can be the Mages Guild, join the church or the Essadrace Guild, but whatever group you join, get on it! You can starve to death standing around out here, fall prey to other players, and there are only so many starting quests, so find whatever option suits you, and get to work! If you don't want to adventure, then we need crafters, gatherers, the people who make items and sell them to create an economy for the server! If you're a martial job, the militia is your best bet right now, and if you enlist as units, you get a special barracks room for your unit!

"You are gamers, damn it! There's a system in front of you to advance, to get stronger. Protect yourselves by doing what comes naturally to us! Set your fear aside and go game this system!"

There were no cheers, but some nodded, and disappeared through the crowd, heading off to some future I didn't know. Some went to the cathedral, mostly Acolytes, to join the church of Brigid, and I saw more than a few looking at their militia flyers and heading for carriages. All the while, though, I was hearing that dinging noise again. As the crowd dispersed and the militiamen despawned, I checked my Journal. Charisma had gone from four to eight, and the ability Inspiring Speech unlocked. It gave some light passive buffs against fear effects for those within its range. My party came up, Chrysta nodding approvingly, "They'll get it. You've done some good at least, but what do we do now?"

"Everyone break up around the crowd, see if you can help people figure out where they should be. If they're going crafter or gatherer, they need to go to the main guild hall over by the docks. Casters generally want to join the Mages Guild for Arcanists, and either the Church or Essadrace Guild for Acolytes based on whether they want to go more toward priests or druids. Hunters and Warriors should probably head to the barracks if they don't want to go outside the city. Vagabonds can join the militia, the thieves' guild, or visit the Bardic College if they're looking to head in that direction. Say whatever you need to get them moving, but sitting here benefits no one, not even them," My nerves were shot as I replied, and walked off into the cathedral to get a minute to myself.

The Cathedral mostly had folks who were coming from the crowd to join, aside from the NPCs, so I took a walk around the place. Out of sight of the crowd, I was shaking. I felt like I wanted to throw up, but the system didn't seem to have that particular emotional outburst programmed in. Instead, I dropped into a pew in the back corner, away from everyone, and buried my face in my hands. I just cried into my hands for a bit, until a warm voice called out to me, "And what troubles you, my child?"

I looked up, and let out a sharp sigh. An older Elven priest was slightly smiling, and it immediately flagged him as an NPC, "I really don't have time for this."

He humphed lightly, and startled me by turning to take a seat next to me, "And if you've not the time now, here in the house of Brigid, then when? Certainly, we don't see many militia commanders here."

"Wait, what?!" I wasn't imagining things and rechecked my thoughts. By the gear he was wearing, this elf was a full priest, and no one could have gotten that far this fast, but he'd responded to me directly, taking my exact reaction into account as he spoke. In the AI world, there's something called a Turing Test, and the idea of it is to have people interact with your AI without being aware of it being an AI, to see if they can tell it's not a human they're talking with. Right now, I knew this was an AI, but for the life of me, he was speaking like a person. There was no glow to him, he wasn't initiating a quest, he was just a priest, "I... I just have a lot riding on my shoulders right now."

He nodded sagely, "Ah, yes, I imagine there is a great deal of pressure in your position. Would you care to speak with me about it? If you wish, we could do so under the protection of confession."

This was so messed up, but I opted to go with it. Spilling my guts in the middle of a room of people who I was trying to convince that things would be alright was probably a bad idea, "Sure, father. Confessional might be for the best."

He got up and led me to a small booth with two doors, one of which he stepped into, and I stepped into the other and took a seat. A small wooden piece slid up, a screen there that gave us separation. I couldn't hear what was going on outside the booth, and it occurred to me that it was likely the same from the other side, that no one could hear us either. The priest gave me a moment to settle before speaking evenly, "Tell me, child, what is your name?"

"My name is Lugh."

A moment of silence, "Ah, Lugh, no doubt named for the ancient hero of Valoria. It is a lot to live up to, but I doubt highly that is the point that disturbs your spirit so."

This was surreal, but now I wanted to see how far this went, "I'm... I'm scared. I'm just as terrified as those guys standing around in the spawn area. I'm not cut out for this... I'm an accountant. I'm not an adventurer and not a hero."

After another moment of silence the voice came back, "Yes, I had noticed the mass of folks worried out in the square. It's a shame that we live in such dark times as these, but I have to disagree with your summation of yourself. I heard your words to the people out there, reaching them when even I was unable to. I saw the faith your companions have in your leadership and their willingness to follow your lead, Lugh. Whatever you might have been before, it seems the world has a very different destiny in store for you than the one imagined. It is as you said to them, to be afraid in such times is normal, and you should work on learning to extend yourself the same understanding that you've shown for others.

"I grant that I've known you only for a short time, but I do believe that you are made for this. There are none who become leaders who are just born to do so. They choose to take charge, to bring others together for good or for ill, that choice makes them, and that you have quite capably demonstrated today. Maybe you're a hero like the greats of old, and maybe you aren't, but for those you've touched, you certainly are a hero to them."

"Are you real?" It was too strange listening to him speak like any priest I'd ever heard speak.

A slight chuckle came from the other side of the booth, "Who knows? Maybe we're real, or maybe we're all the dreams of the gods, but does that point truly matter so much? This is our life, and we do with it what we can during the brief time we have in this world."

"Thank you, Father. What's your name?" I inquired. I need a note of this.

"I am Father Talathel, Hospitalier of the Church of Brigid. Before you depart, pray with me, please?"

It seemed a little odd to be praying to a fictional god loosely based on Celtic mythology, but I obliged him given I'd gotten the chance to vent. I would need to come back here later as well since I did feel a lot better. I lowered my head, and brought my hands together for prayer as Father Talathel began, "Mother Brigid, look over this young man as he makes his first steps in his new life here in Farrelston. Grant him the strength to hold to his ideals, the will to step forward with them, and the wisdom to know when he needs aid. Amen."

We both stepped out of the booth, and Father Talathel was still smiling, "Walk in the light of the Brigid, Lugh."

And then just sort of went off to do priestly things, while Chrysta was standing off to the side with an eyebrow quirked up in my direction, "Are you cross-classing over to Acolyte?"

I chuckled, "No. Oddly enough... Kinda just had a therapy session. We really need to let people know about this. Like, seriously, we gotta talk about the AI around here."

She shrugged, "Well, darlin', most of the square is breakin' up, so we should probably get on with our patrol."

As Chrysta turned to go, I caught her lightly by the arm, "Hey. Real quick, would you maybe wanna go out after we knock off?"

She smiled, "Are you askin' me out on a date?"

"Yes," The response was straightforward.

The smile faltered, "Luke, we talked about this before... out there."

I nodded, "We did, but we didn't go for it because you didn't want to do a long-distance relationship, and," I stepped in close to her, "I'm not seeing a lot of distance here."

The facade was falling off, but she was smiling again, "And where would we even go?"

"Dinner and dancing? I'm pretty sure I remember there being a dance hall here."

Chrysta nodded slightly, her voice quiet, "I can't... wait, I can dance. Alright, we need to finish this patrol now."

We went back out and met up with the other two patrol members, "Report. How did the efforts go? I can see that we have a lot less people milling around."

Shelara and Velres reported their success in getting most people moving, but some just seemed fairly intractable, convinced that rescue was coming any moment, and didn't want to give up on it. I nodded, "Alright. You guys did great, and we were never going to convince everyone, so this is a win. Right now, they've still got some starting rations, so they'll be alright for a bit while we come up with something for them. Let's move out."

We continued our patrols, stopping a couple of other small altercations, and I stopped in at the Adventurer's Guild so we could turn in some of the minor quests we'd done yesterday. We collected some gold, got a small bump to our relations with Farrelston and the Guild, and I even got a pair of moleskin gloves that had a minor protective bump, and honestly, they were just better for when I was firing the bow. It was as we were leaving that I noticed something different: A memorial section of the Guild Hall. Morbidly curious, I stepped inside the room, and saw a series of marble walls with names etched into them, stretching on for a ways. My jaw dropped as I realized what the names were... players. Our roll of the dead was unnecessary because their names were all here.

I looked for Tom's name, but it must have been his real name, not his character name, because I didn't find it, I counted more than a hundred names before I just stopped counting entirely. The game was counting our dead. The rest of our patrol came in as I took time, and the reactions were immediate as they realized what they were looking at. Shelara's hand went over her mouth as tears filled her eyes, Velres's head fell, and Chrysta shook as it hit, "Jesus."

There had to be at least a thousand names carved into the marble here, and room for far more. Shelara regained her composure, but her voice was hoarse as she spoke, "The beta test players?"

I nodded, speaking flatly, "Some will have survived, but... yeah, they were the ones who rushed out yesterday... and probably some friends of theirs, or other people they took with them... Let's go."

The mood was pretty somber for the rest of the patrol as we made our way through the rest of the route and got back to the barracks. A mass of people were there, dividing up into units to enlist, and although I got some waves and shoutouts, I only just waved back slightly for the sake of politeness. Inside, I turned in our patrol for rewards, getting the day's pay and some militia reputation before returning to our barracks room. I stepped into my separate room and made a quick log entry that I would do more with later, but for the time being, I just needed to report the facts of the patrol. I changed out of my militia uniform, glad to be without it for the moment, and came to a decision. The others would have talked about the adventurer's guild, and it was another blow to the morale of the group. I couldn't leave the end of the day like this.

I stepped into the mainspace, "Everyone! Get out of uniform, and come with me."

I walked out, knocked on doors, and relayed information to the other unit leaders, having everyone assemble out front, "We're going out! We'll be grabbing carriages across town to have a night out."

Khargol nodded enthusiastically, "Hell yeah!"

Some others were a bit trepidatious, and Arkadi voiced the concern, "And where are we going exactly?"

I shrugged, "We're going out drinking and dancing."

Expressions were a bit puzzled all around, not getting the point of it, "We've been through a lot, and we all need to blow off steam, so tonight we're going to honor Rule 32: Enjoy The Little Things. Let's move out!"