“We all knew this day would come,” a deep voice intoned. “For centuries the Guardians stood watch over the realm, protecting Medina from the gates of hell. For centuries, the demons trapped within their bitter dimension have yearned for escape. And on this day, they have finally broken free…”
I felt myself flying across the hills, up and down, nauseatingly fast. Small, abandoned and skeletal towns dotted the landscape. I passed through the outskirts of another, larger city, long abandoned. This was a modern city with skyscrapers and shops and the rusted-out husks of long-forgotten cars.
I left the city and approached the back of the shadowy beasts. They were huge. Each was a Godzilla-sized monster, each a different shape. No, bigger than Godzilla. Impossibly large. One was a stag beetle, shooting flames out of its mouth, another was a two-legged beast with a rhinoceros head and four meaty arms. Another was a mountain of a centipede that was half bug, half clockwork gears.
The giants roared and trilled and rushed in concert toward an enormous crevice in the ground, which billowed smoke.
From the crevice poured dark shapes, hundreds, thousands of them, all of them small, human-sized. An army of demons escaping hell.
The kaiju smashed and attacked the demons, breathing fire and lightning and acid, melting the legions away.
The sounds of war faded, and the scene before me dimmed. The disembodied voice continued. “The guardians were placed in this realm as a stopgap, to protect the heavens from the inevitable onslaught. The cities and towns of this world have all been abandoned, left to rot. All the remaining humans fled to the walled stronghold of Medina, where they live in constant fear that this day may come.”
A thousand demons swarmed up the side of one of the kaiju. Everything was now in shadow. The giant beast was shaped like a six-legged lion with tentacles erupting from it. The demons swarmed the monster. The monster fell to the ground with a resounding crash.
The world changed, and I once again stood upon the grass. However, the lion kaiju now lay before me. The thing was god damned huge, at least 1,000 feet long, the size of an aircraft carrier. It lay on its back, breathing heavily, thousands of long, angry cuts along its side.
The ground around it was littered with dead demons. The world was eerily silent. To my right, the crevice remained, smoking, but no more demons emerged. In the distance beyond, the shadows of the other kaiju all wandered away.
I examined the shattered demons at my feet. I have feet now. I have a body. Each of the beasts were about seven or eight feet long, bug-like, a mix between a preying mantis and a fire ant with massive, dripping mandibles and four, sharp, angled arms. Their armored bodies were covered in angry spikes. Some of the corpses twitched. I felt myself take a step back.
I looked at my hands, but they were nothing but a dotted outline.
“The demons have once again been beaten back. Guardian Bast lays before you, injured. You are the last remaining…”
Son or Daughter?
I startled at the question, the words floating before me and simultaneously spoken in my mind in a male, computer voice. I quickly realized I’d just entered into character creation mode. I tried to figure out how to click on Son, but it seemed I couldn’t access a menu or move a cursor with my mind, like with most games.
“Son,” I said.
Your name?
I thought for a moment. My regular gamer tag was BitchSlapMagee, but I wanted to keep some sense of professionalism with Anatoly.
“I’m Duke,” I said, giving the system my real name.
“You, Duke, are the last remaining son of an ancient order of healers who have been tasked with the frontline care of the guardians. While the arcane creatures are immortal, they are not invulnerable. It is the duty of your order to brave the battlefields and administer field medicine to the injured guardians. Without your ministrations, the beasts will surely succumb to the demons of hell.”
As the words spoke, sepia-toned still images appeared in my vision. The first was of a giant monster battling an army of the bug-like demons. The second was of a person hanging off the side of the kaiju, pointing a device at a wound on the monster’s side. On closer inspection, it appeared he was welding the wound closed. Other, armored humans wielding odd, steampunk-style guns defended the healer as he ministered to the beast.
“A millennia ago, entire clans of humans supported a single guardian. But after the false peace, years, then decades, then centuries passed. The clans faded, and the ancient art of guardian support was forgotten by all but a few stalwart humans, who kept the old traditions alive. The years of dedication to a single guardian, however, had permanent, lasting effects on the humans who were charged with that particular guardian’s care. As a result, 22 distinct races of people have evolved. You are…”
Choose your race.
Warning: This server is in co-op mode, and only one registered player of each race is allowed per season. Please make a selection.
A carousel of types of people appeared before me. Each person had a shadow behind it, apparently indicating the kaiju they’d once been in charge of protecting. I tentatively reached forward and gave it a spin. Human, dwarf, elf, ogre, fish, a lizard-headed thing, a robot-looking guy, and many other types of humanoid creatures appeared on the spinner.
Each race had a name over it. The dwarf-like creatures were called mole men. Their associated monster looked to be a mole-like beast covered in tentacles similar to those on the lion. The elves were called fae. Their monster was a panther thing, stalking close to the ground. A second set of elves, thinner and smaller with wings were called brownies. Their kaiju was also winged, a hornet-like monster.
The humans were called humans, and their beast was the lion that lay injured before me, just beyond the spinner. The giant ogres were called nerve agents. Their monster was hulking, uneven, hard to discern.
The humans, ogres, both types of elves all had red, transparent Xs over them, indicating them as races I could no longer choose. Presumably these were some of the races played by Anatoly’s friends. Anatoly himself had stated he was the lone human player on the server. I clicked on the human with my hand, and several paragraphs of information popped up. I dismissed it without reading.
I flipped through, looking at the choices I could pick. After scrolling through all 22 races, it appeared I only had four selections: A dwarf-like mole man, which I’d already been warned away from; a fish-like creature called a dagon; a squat humanoid called a groundling; and a gray-skinned, human-like creature that was about six and a half feet tall called a “worm surgeon.”
This was a zombie creature of some sort. Tall, disgusting. Awesome. Its associated kaiju was a pile of body parts and giant eyeballs and detached, slathering mouths.
Typically, if I was really playing this game I’d spend an hour going over each available race, and I’d carefully weigh all the pros and cons of each character before choosing. I was a stats guy, usually preferring the characters who were weak early on but became powerful later. In Dominion of Blades I played a fire mage auric, a class and character who was very difficult to keep alive until it learned some more powerful spells.
But I was only doing this to gain access to the game. I clicked on worm surgeon without reading any of the info. My hand went from a dotted outline to a long, emaciated arm. I was suddenly taller and dressed in rags. I took in a deep breath.
“You are a worm surgeon. For centuries, your people have been shunned by the others. In only recent years have your kind been allowed back within the walls of Medina. Your ancestors served the outcast guardian the Shrill, a former demon who turned its back on the princes of hell. Using Resurrection magics, your people healed your kaiju by siphoning away the lifeblood of others. Your expert knowledge of parasites and infestations, plus your ability to survive and see within toxic environments makes you especially suitable for deep-dive medicine. However, while you are physically strong and agile, your lifeblood is constantly ticking away. You must kill to survive
, and for that reason, you are not trusted by the others.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. A character whose health was always dropping away? No wonder nobody had picked it yet. I should’ve picked the fish dude.
“While your elders taught you some of the healing arts, you spend your days working as a…”
Pick a class.
A long, scrolling list of occupations scrolled by. There had to be at least 500 choices. I hadn’t realized this game was so elaborate. About half of them were grayed out. I assumed that meant my race couldn’t perform them. My eyes caught the “crusher” class, whatever that meant. That was one of the other items Anatoly had warned me against. I assumed that was some sort of strength-based profession. Then my eyes caught another class. Without giving it a second thought, I picked it.
“You spend your days as an artisan, decorating the clay pots your family makes and sells at the market. It was on this day that you were outside of town, delivering your wares when the attack came.”
A cart appeared next to me on the field, and in the cart several dozen brightly-painted pots sat stacked. The carriage was pulled by what appeared to be a giant earthworm, brown and undulating. Floating over the earthworm’s head in green letters was:
Level 3. Nightcrawler. Mount.
“You are alone on the battlefield. Guardian Bast is injured. Approach the beast and administer care.”
All the words and menus disappeared. It was just me, the worm, and the giant, dying monster.
“What the hell?” I said, looking over my shoulder toward town, which was very, very far away. This was still part of the tutorial. Anatoly had said this would take about ten to fifteen minutes, but I felt as if it was taking much longer than that already. Most games had some sort of head’s up overlay, but there was nothing here.
How am I supposed to heal something the size of a shopping mall?
I sighed, walking toward the monster. Again, I marveled at the realness of the VR, at the smoothness of the action. My limbs felt odd, a side effect of being in a different body. I also had a deep, painful rumbling in my stomach.
“Menu,” I said, hoping to pop up some sort of status screen. Nothing.
“Pause… Pause game.” Nothing. “Health. Status.” Nothing. “Help.” No response.
The pain in my stomach alarmed me. It was discovered early on that these things had the ability to convey realistic pain onto anyone who was immersed, but a few lawsuits later, no games ever utilized it. Most used the one to five scale, with one being zero tactile and five being 20% sensation. People would only jack it up to five when they were getting it on. Most people played on two or three. Getting burned alive by acid at a sensation setting of three was like feeling a mild sunburn. I’d tried playing other games at 20%, and even that was too much for me. I’d once had my arm broken at pain level five, and it’d hurt enough that I’d had to eject.
The ache in my stomach wasn’t overly painful, but it was a little too real.
I could say “Quit Game” twice in a row to get out. There was also the universal eye-closing motion that would eject you at the rig level if your game ever crashed. So I wasn’t worried about being stuck here. It was just… disconcerting.
I looked over at my worm companion. “How you doing there, buddy?” I asked. I patted it on the head. Its skin felt cold and slippery, yet rigid underneath. It made me think of a dirty, erect penis. I wiped my hand on my ragged shirt. “Okay then,” I said.
As I approached the monster, the angry wounds along his body started to pulse and glow. There were hundreds of bloody cuts up and down his flesh. Each wound was about six or seven feet long. I walked to the closest cut on the lion’s skin. The box around the wound turned green while the others blinked red. The monster radiated heat. I was so close now it was nothing but a wall of flesh in front of me. If it rolled on its side, I’d be squished.
Beside me, the nightcrawler dutifully followed, stretching its front segment forward then contracting its back half into itself rapidly. The wooden cart creaked.
I walked all the way up to the side of the monster. What was I supposed to do? I raised my hand toward the bloody gash.
The voice spoke. “Most of the guardians heal physical wounds rapidly and on their own. As a result, the demons have found alternative methods of battling the guardians.”
The wound bulged outward. The lion’s tan skin ripped and cracked further. A demon’s insect-like head popped out, surprising me. I yelped. It looked at me and hissed, its mandibles snapping. I jumped back as the bug attempted to decapitate me. Instead, it turned its efforts on my poor nightcrawler. It ripped a segmented chunk off the worm’s body. It disappeared back into the wound as my worm collapsed to the ground, twitching.
The game world paused and faded away. A wagon wheel with six spokes appeared floating before me.
“There are six schools of magic in this realm. They are Earth, Technology, Wind, Celestial, Resurrection, and Steam.” The words appeared one by one on the wagon wheel. “As a worm surgeon, you draw exclusively from the school of resurrection. Today you must administer a simple antiparasitic. Resurrection spells require souls to power them. The more recently-deceased, the more powerful. Luckily for you, you have a nearby source of soul power.”
I mentally clicked on the wheel. This time the motion worked. Controlling mouse clicks with one’s mind was like riding a bike. Once you learned how to do it in one game, it was easy peasy, second nature. I clicked on steam, and a long paragraph appeared explaining the origin and source of the magic. I clicked away. If I ever did buy a copy of this game, I’d delve deep into it when I got a chance. For now I just clicked through and looked at the races of players and how they associated with the schools of magic.
Unlike other games where player class had the most bearing on your school of magic, in this one it seemed it was all about the 22 different races. Fifteen of the races could use two of the schools of magic (The mole men, for example, used earth and technology. The fae used wind and celestial.) Six of the races, like the worm surgeons, could only use one, and humans could use all six, though it seemed they had some restrictions. No two were the same. I was stuck with resurrection magic. Even though I wasn’t really playing, I felt disappointed. I was so used to fantasy games that the “normal” magics like earth, wind, and resurrection (usually called “dark” magic or something like that) were a little too familiar. One of the races in this game was something called a shade gremlin, and it used the schools of technology and steam. That sounded so much cooler. Oh well.
I took my hand off the wheel, and the world reformed.
The corpse of my dead worm blinked purple. In the upper right of my vision, a purple bar appeared. I felt an odd whooshing sensation, like water being poured into a bucket. I was the bucket, and the purple energy coming off the dead worm was the water. The worm drained free, and my purple power bar went up a few notches.
“Now, using your soul power, administer the antiparasitic. You must physically touch the blood supply of Guardian Bast to administer this medicine. Luckily in this case, the open wound before you gives you access.”
I warily reached forward and touched the wound with my bare hand, ready to jump back if the demon thing popped out again. I shuddered as my hand came into contact with the warm, squishy flesh. I was already re-thinking my decision to buy a copy of this game.
A menu popped up.
Available talents:
Administer Antiparasitic. Level 1.
Cauterize Wound. Level 1.
I administered the antiparasitic.
I felt a reverse of the whooshing sensation as about 3/4's of my available soul power left my body and entered the behemoth. The green circle surrounding the wound started to blink. Soon, all the hundreds of injuries on the kaiju’s flank flashed.
“Good job. The medicine takes some time to work, but that should be enough. As the days progress, you will be required to perform more and more complicated healings and surgeries. You will be in
constant danger from both the invading demons and the guardians themselves. And sometimes…”
A club appeared in my hand. I startled at the suddenness of it. It was a crude baseball bat with a long, bent nail sticking out of it. I stared at it stupidly.
“…even the parasites themselves will fight back.”
All of the wounds on the guardian started to pulsate and throb. Hundreds of them.
Oh shit.
Hissing, screaming demons poured out of the body, like water out of a spigot. The wound closest to me ripped even further as two of the parasites fled the guardian’s body and came at me, the injury vomiting blood and beast. Their bug-like bodies all glowed a sickly green color, and a red exclamation mark appeared over their heads. I didn’t have time to interpret the symbols. There had to be thousands of the things, some a hundred feet in the air above me. They fell, lurched, and grasped at me as I stumbled back, instinctively swinging my crude bat at them. I connected with one swing, and the club broke in half.
A demon bit my left arm, severing it off. Pain exploded. My vision flashed red. Holy crap, real, actual pain. Then another started to devour me. Then another.
I screamed as everything went black. The pain fled. I was surrounded by darkness filled only with the sound of chewing.
Pain swirled in my mind. A sudden thought flashed in my mind, the memory coming unbidden. Mary holding her hands to her head, screaming. This is too much. This is too much.
Then words appeared on the screen. The bold font slamming into place, blood spattering on the black with each letter.
Welcome, Surgeon. Welcome to the Wet Gates of Hell.
Loading…
Screw this, I thought. Even though I no longer had a body, the sudden, sharp memory of pain overwhelmed me. No amount of money is worth this.
Loading…
“Quit game. Quit game.”
Nothing. My words echoed in the empty, black room.
Blink, blink, blink. Hold eyes closed for five seconds. Blink, blink, blink.
Nothing. I did it again, panic rising.
Kaiju- Battlefield Surgeon Page 2