Viridian Gate Online

by J D Astra

  The nighttime affairs were picking up as the sun was coming down. The daily duties of forging, bread making, stone masonry and more were coming to a close as shops locked up their doors and turned wooden signs saying, “Will resume at dawn.”

  We came to the dimly lit Satin and Beech, and Otto knocked. The door had its own sign up with a similar message of when regular business would resume.

  “They’re closed for the night, Otto, let’s just go back to the inn.” There was pity in the tone of my voice, and I hiccupped at the end. The effects of mead lasted even through getting punched in the face and having a potion.

  Otto didn’t reply, but he knocked again, differently this time. Rah-ta-tap-ta, rah-ta. The door creaked open a moment later and the Accipiter man, Hasan, poked his face out.

  “Oh, you’re back!” The door swung open wide. “Come in, please! I hope your quests were fruitful today.”

  “They were,” Otto grumbled and stepped into the shop, then stood off to the side to allow me through.

  The dim lights were difficult to adjust to, and the smoky incense smell burned my eyes as I entered. Without another word, Hasan took my hand and pulled me through the rows of wares to a back room. It was better lit than the rest of the shop, with a desk littered with papers and small trinkets. There was a pile of money right on the table, and I wondered if Hasan trusted Otto and I so much to leave it out, or if he’d forgotten.

  “I got a shipment from home!” he proclaimed, his large golden eyes twinkling with joyful mist.

  “Great, what was in it?” I asked when he didn’t go on.

  I suddenly wondered if old Accipiter mothers would send their sons gift packs of dead mice and rabbits, much like how my mother would send me cookies before the post regulations went berserk.

  Hasan held his hand up as if asking me to wait and turned to rummage through a large wooden crate on the ground. There were sounds of metal tinkling, small things in some kind of a bag, and some larger things too. He glanced over his shoulder at me, puffing out his wings to block my view.

  “This!” He spun around holding a small poncho-type cloak adorned with a pair of sleek cloth shoulder pads. It was beautiful... but a deep crimson. My robes were blue and purple. I withheld my critical statement and put on a huge smile.

  “Amazing!” I exclaimed with a bit too much enthusiasm, but Hasan didn’t seem to notice.

  He held the item out to me, and I touched the soft fabric. It was warm, much more so than the air around us, and I moved to inspect it.

  <<<>>>

  Formel’s Mantle of Spirit

  Armor Type: Light, Cloth

  Class: Rare

  Base Defense: 5

  Primary Effects:

  ● +10 to Spirit

  ● +20% Spirit regen bonus

  The dust storms of the Barren Sands are no match for a Formel’s mantle.

  <<<>>>

  “It’s great,” I said, backing away. I knew I couldn’t afford it after how much the robes had cost.

  “Yes, I think it’s for you.” He held them out further. “Only eight gold. It’s a steal. I will put it out in the front tomorrow for twelve.”

  That was almost half my gold, and who knew when I’d come across any more of it. The game seemed hell-bent on keeping me broke, until that chest appeared. I’d promised to buy something else, but that was just too much. I opened my mouth to decline and promptly snapped it shut as the old adage my father used to rattle off ran through my mind.

  You’ve gotta invest in yourself if you wanna be something. The sound of his voice in my head was a sweet comfort. I hadn’t thought of him, hadn’t heard him, in what felt like so long. Maybe it was the mead, or maybe it was the truth nestled deep in me trying to come out.

  I had some money, and I needed to be strong and capable. I needed to invest in myself if I wanted to be something. “Okay.” I nodded. “I’ll take it.”

  “Excellent!” He clapped his hand against the garment. “I know you’ll do great things with it.”

  He passed me the mantle, and I handed him 8 gold from my satchel.

  “Come back again tomorrow!” The business was concluded, and so ended his patient mannerisms. He pushed me out of the back office and through the shop to the front door, where a disappointed Otto shook his head.

  Hasan opened the door and motioned for us to leave. Otto rolled his eyes and stomped out to the street. Suddenly, I felt like I’d done something wrong.

  Hasan grinned. “See you again tomorrow.” He waved his hand through the open door.

  I dropped the cloth shoulders onto my character, expecting something strange to happen, but it was just the typical rush of power. I gave Hasan a wave and stepped out. The door slammed shut on my butt and bumped me down into the dirt path.

  “You didn’t even barter. Now Hasan thinks you’re a pushover. You won’t get anywhere with him.” Otto turned his back and plodded off.

  I followed behind as the businesses around us finished closing up, and the distant sounds of music kicked up. We made our way through the alleys, and I realized, though I hadn’t been in Harrowick long, we weren’t headed for the main road.

  “Where are we going?” I asked Otto as we stepped past a pair of youngsters obviously looking for a place to wet their whistles.

  “Back way,” he grunted.

  “Why?” I asked, perturbed.

  He turned sharply. “Because I’d rather not run into those Imperials again and have something happen to me while I’m trying to protect you.”

  Otto grimaced. “And another thing, you’ve disregarded me, my opinions, and my efforts all day. Yes, you’re paying me, but I’m not a slave.”

  Maybe I had, but I’d also saved his ass, and plus, he was only code. That particular reasoning wasn’t sitting as well with me as it had when I first entered the game. There were so many secrets about Otto. I knew the Overminds would weave a plot for the NPCs, but Otto’s seemed so real. Naitee was also a far cry from ones and zeroes. Perhaps I was being—

  “Well?” Otto demanded.

  “I was thinking.” I forced my voice to be steady, even, and low. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

  He raised a brow.

  I bit my lip. He was only code but seemed aware enough to want an apology. “I’m sorry you’ve felt mistreated.”

  Otto glared at me for a long time, so long I felt like I’d broken him somehow, then his face softened. “Do you believe what she said?”

  “Sandra?” I asked, though I knew what he meant.

  He gritted his teeth, looked away, and nodded.

  “I don’t think you’ll ever let me down purposefully, and I hope you won’t die, especially not for me.”

  His head kept bobbing along, and he turned back to the alley. We walked without another word back to the inn, stepping inside just as the sun disappeared below the horizon. Otto dropped coin on the counter on his way to the stairs, leaving me in the tavern without even a goodnight.

  I took a seat at his table, a heat that didn’t feel necessary or justified building in my chest. I’d been honest, and he was upset at me for that? Moreover, he was my NPC, and it shouldn’t have been an issue.

  The barmaid offered me mead, but I turned it down for some good old-fashioned water and a plate of whatever was hot. Moments later she returned with a cool wooden cup full of the sweetest, most refreshing water I’d ever tasted. I checked the item description to ensure she hadn’t brought me some kind of juice by accident.

  The cool notes tickled my mind into action. The bottom line was that I needed Otto on my side and loyal to me. If I had to suspend my knowledge of reality and pretend he was just the same as me, then maybe that’s what I had to do.

  The hot plate was roasted root vegetables and a side of waterfowl, both of which were covered in the bird’s fatty grease. It was fantastic, of course, and for a moment, I was sad I didn’t have Otto around to watch me scarf it down way too fast.

  I dropped some silv
er on the table when I was done. I wasn’t sure how much the meal and the room would be, Otto hadn’t told me how much I owed him, but I figured five silver had to be enough given what I’d seen Otto giving the barmaid.

  The wooden walls of the staircase were warm with the heat of the fire from the kitchen as I made my way up to the room I’d slept in the night before. Everything was clean, sheets turned down, water basin replenished. I flopped onto the bed and opened my character sheet.

  The game was no mystery to me, since I’d helped create it, but I panned through the explanations of this stat and that to take my mind off Otto’s strange behavior.

  Strength: increasing attack strength (AS) to deal more damage with short-range weapons like clubs, swords, and axes. It also increased the overall base armor rating, which if I went Stonewall, wouldn’t be a big deal for me.

  Vitality: pretty simple, increased overall hit points and Health regeneration. No additional effects.

  Constitution: increases Stamina, Stamina regeneration, and carry capacity. Stamina was the physical “currency” of sorts that was used when engaging in combat, similar to how Spirit was used for spellcraft.

  Dexterity: the primary contributor to ranged attack damage, but also increased the chance to evade or block. I was reminded of Jinker, the Hydromancer passive that improved Dexterity, and how it very likely saved my ass with the Balrigons.

  Intelligence: much like Dexterity and Strength, it increased spellcasting attack damage. It also improved resistances, poison, disease, and elemental by .01% per point.

  Spirit: the stat giving me the most grief recently. Points applied here would increase my Spirit total and would also increase Spirit regeneration.

  Luck: the most contentious of the attributes. Players couldn’t assign points to it like they could the other stats, leaving it somewhat of a mystery to those who didn’t help make the game. I knew Luck would contribute to all sorts of things: loot drops, gold drops, bartering chances, quests presented and quest rewards, and much more I didn’t know. Luck was by far the most valuable stat in the game, and the hardest to acquire.

  I sighed and panned to the forum as I checked the time, only 8 PM and I wasn’t nearly tired enough for sleep. The wiki was alive with excitement as people shared news, tips, tricks, quest locations, and much more. It was nice to see so many people working together after watching them run one another down with trucks trying to get into Osmark Tech.

  It was nice to think that maybe the human race could do things differently this time around.

  The realization brought sadness as I thought of my mother back IRL, waiting to die. Then my mind fell on Jack, my old gaming friend. I brought up the search friend function and typed away a few of the names I knew he might use. No results. I closed out the menu and pulled the pillow to my chest. I’d have to go Stonewall, no other class could survive solo.

  Bad Code

  BLUE FLAME WHIPPED about the tail of the comet, 213 Astraea, flowing through an infinite vortex of gravity. The comet spun slowly on its axis, causing the trail of gas and debris to loop in a helix. Astraea rotated in my view, and I passed behind it. My vision blurred as the blue heat battered my face.

  How was I still breathing in space?

  I looked down to see the V.G.O. capsule I’d gotten into at Osmark Tech. The capsule I was still in, at least my living body.

  Light brought my attention back to Astraea, and my heart thumped as Earth came into view. Our little spec of paradise, blue mother, cradle of life, was about to be ravaged by millions of tons of iron and stone.

  An orange glow started at Astraea’s nose. It grew, until the entire rock was enveloped by hot white destruction. The atmosphere ripped open with a green shimmer, like the planet’s forcefield going down.

  “No! Stop!” I reached out for Astraea as if I could hold it back with my frail arms, but my hands landed against the cold padding of my coffin.

  I rushed down toward the flaming asteroid, passing through its wake and into the core. My computer desk stood alone at the center of a dark cavern at the core of Astraea, lines of code dotting the screen. But it wasn’t my code. No, I hadn’t written that. That code could cause problems. There were errors peppered throughout the entire function. No, no... Did I write this?

  My body lurched, and my stomach churned as I pulled away from the desk through the back of Astraea. Moisture bubbled up around me as I continued to pull back, farther and farther from Earth as Astraea slammed into the ocean bedrock far slower than seemed possible. The salty seawater clung to my lips and matted my hair as it exploded out into the stratosphere.

  The capsule flipped end over end as I plummeted back to Earth, the blinding flash of Astraea’s 800 megaton explosion whiting out all other images. The sickening spin slammed to a halt, and my capsule lid burst open.

  I clutched my chest and breathed deep. Just a dream. I sat up and felt a wave of familiarity at the back of my mind. Rows upon rows of white coffin-shaped capsules lined the floor, walls, and ceiling of the cavernous underground complex below Osmark Tech.

  Oh shit. My capsule broke! I’m trapped here, in this mass grave, and everyone else will transition into V.G.O.! I just needed to get my capsule lid. Maybe I could put it back on and go back to sleep, get back into the game.

  When I looked over the edge my breath caught at the sight of the faulty code. It was all over the floor, running up the legs of the capsules and into their computers. One by one, capsule lids popped off with a bang, and resounding cries of terror filled the cavern. My code broke them. My code stranded these people in their physical bodies. My code killed everyone on Earth.

  “What have you done?” The unmistakable demand of my boss, Osmark, turned my head. It wasn’t Robert standing behind me, but a massive Balrigon, dripping red-hot lava from its open maw.

  I yelped as I tried to escape my coffin, but the snaking tubes of sedatives and regulatory fluids tied me down. My skin peeled back as I pulled, trying to rip myself free. The Balrigon advanced.

  “Your stupidity and arrogance has damned us all! We trusted you!” His voice morphed from Osmark’s to something guttural, omniscient, and powerful.

  The Balrigon gripped the edge of my capsule, bending the metal and plastic under its iron fists. Lava dribbled down its chin onto my legs, searing my skin. I squirmed and kicked, but the capsule held me tightly.

  The creature grinned. “Now, we’ll all die because you failed us.”

  It leaned in closer, the scorching drool dripping up my legs to my chest. Its breath reeked of sulphur and blood as it whispered, “You failed.”

  I jerked free of my binds and toppled out of the capsule. The Balrigon laughed behind me as I scrambled to my feet and ran down the alley of open coffins. Everyone writhed and screamed as the capsule tubes constricted around their arms and legs, pinning them into the technology.

  “You did this! You did this!” the captives shrieked as I passed, their wide, fearful eyes tracking me as I went. I could feel their judging gazes upon me. I could feel the agony my failure brought.

  “You left me to die.” My mother’s grief-stricken voice boomed through the massive sepulcher, and I skidded to a stop.

  The sound of her bare feet padding toward me was wet. Slap splat, slap, slap, splat. I could tell by her gait she was struggling to walk.

  Her voice returned with an unnatural growl. “You couldn’t even take one day off work to see your father into the grave. You’re no daughter of mine, you ungrateful, selfish brat.”

  She spat the words at me. I didn’t want to turn and see her face. I knew exactly how it would look. Nose wrinkled, forehead creased, eyes blazing, with her hair in a gravity-defying puff about her face that would be intimidating, instead of comical as it usually was.

  I turned despite my instinct. I saw her bare feet first and didn’t understand as lines of code wiggled up her legs and around her hips. Her belly button sucked the words in, letter by letter, with a sickening slurp. I didn’t want to look up any
farther, but my eyes moved of their own accord.

  Her transparent rib cage rose and fell with ragged breaths, and the crimson heart in her chest beat like a jackhammer. Glowing green chemicals flowed down her esophagus and blackened as they mixed with the code in her transparent womb. Capsule tubes snaked into her mouth through her cheeks, and blood ran down her throat from the wounds.

  My mother’s lips pulled down into a feral frown, green liquid spilling out with the words she spoke. “You will never be anyone if you care for no one.”

  My eyes shot open, dissolving the mortifying image of my mother as I finally woke up from the nightmare.

  The black of my room brought little comfort as I sat up in my bed. It felt like an angry rhino was trying to escape my skull, and the sweat-soaked sheets told me this had been going on for a while. My gut turned, and all I could think of was water, ibuprofen, and twelve more hours of sleep... but I had to go to work, or Tristen would shit a brick.

  “Lights on.”

  Darkness...

  “Lights on.” I called a little more forcefully to my home AI unit.

  No reply.

  I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and gasped as they touched cold floor. This wasn’t my room. Hairs rose on the back of my neck as I felt primal adrenaline surge with my pounding heart. My breathing shallowed.

  Then, I remembered. I took a deep breath through my nose and my shoulders relaxed. I was in V.G.O. already, my second day.

  I stood from the cloud-like bed and fumbled through the dark for the door, then cracked it. Light from candles lining the hall outside spilled into the room and revealed the medieval tavern inn. My eyes lost focus and drifted over the wood grain. I hadn’t noticed before, but texture repeated every fifth board. What a terrible visual flaw... Had I done this?

  No, I was being silly. I didn’t touch the visual rendering system. I turned back to the bedroom and grabbed the candle from the nightstand and walked out to the hall. I tilted my candle into another and stole a bit of fire. I gazed into the flame, the blue-green of the center was so like the tail of Astraea. So much destruction in one, cosmically small, bit of rock.