Within days, several exploits were introduced into the world of the Colossal Machine. The Dark Web code was supposed to have been fully play-tested before implementation. Inserting that code into the production build unbalanced the game world. Hackers were able to exploit vulnerabilities, which caused entire microcosms to disappear. To bring the world back in balance, the developers could either roll back the code, effectively wiping out the progress of millions of players during a holiday weekend, or send recon agents. Pretzelverse Games chose the latter.
Jet got home late from visiting Nigel. It had been a couple of weeks since she had logged into the game, so she needed to refresh her microcosm. She put the keys on the hook. Her phone chirped. It was a text from Pretzelverse: Log in to the game for a special debugging event. The person with the most points will win a year’s worth of game time and a free expansion pack.
I was going to log in anyway, Jet figured, so I might as well check it out! She looked around the house; it was empty. My parents must be out. Good.
A short time later, she was presented with hundreds of lines of legalese regarding the nondisclosure agreements. Taking tests to prove in-game competency is a must, but I hate that Pretzelverse requires us to sign these agreements so often. I guess it’s because they have gotten burned in the past, Jet thought.
After reading a few pages, she blindly accepted the remainder of the agreements. Minutes later, when she was back in the game, she flushed with anger as she processed the carnage.
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She almost always logged out of the game in her microcosm: her private spot in the Colossal Machine. But the protective shield disappeared. Of all her in-game pets, she enjoyed the unicorns the most, and Jet witnessed the slaughter of these pets before her eyes. Without thinking, she cast a personal shield on her avatar. The blue crystal on her staff shone brighter as a chunk of debris fell on her. She looked up. A laser was being fired at her tower.
“Dom-Poe-Rec,” Jet yelled.
She raised her staff and pointed it to the tower. Seconds later, a metallic barrier filled the open areas around the tower. The winged intruder crouched in midair, and armor started enveloping his avatar. Several machine-gun turrets started firing at the tower; larger chunks of the structure broke free, and she saw even more of her pets tumbling to their deaths. The winged intruder had powers beyond anything that Jet had seen in the game. He must be using an exploit, Jet thought.
She gave up on trying to save her microcosm. Instead, she summoned her rocket boots and propelled herself toward the winged interloper. “In-Por-Cod-Dev,” she uttered, and a beam of light enveloped the intruder, who stalled mid-flight. The armored avatar began to fall inside the shell of the microcosm. A large crater was formed, and large amounts of dust plumed in every direction. It took several seconds for it to dissipate and settle. An armored shape in the center was visible.
Since Jet was a Bug Hunter, a player that was granted unique powers to help report problems or anomalies her avatar was equipped with special tools. She made a log entry for an unidentifiable game object, took a sample, and then submitted it to Pretzelverse as a high-priority case. The intruder hadn’t disappeared, which meant he must have been disconnected in the real world.
Good riddance!