Life Reset

by Shemer Kuznits

  My brows knitted together. “Tal, I still don’t understand, it’s common knowledge the scroll is used to permanently destroy a player’s character by making it unplayable. I’ve never heard any mention of what you just told me.”

  Tal sighed again, and for a moment I thought he wasn’t going to talk any more about it, but then he continued.

  “You are right, in a way. Most players can’t play monster races because of the cerebral connection requirements. That’s why players who were victims of this curse just deleted their character. They were not able to play the new character at all. It was lucky for us, since it meant it was safe to forgo a complete fix, and we could settle for putting up the bounty instead.”

  He paused, letting his words sink in.

  It was the most I’ve ever heard him speak about his job. He sounded reluctant and I didn’t think it was because he was violating his NDA contract. It sounded as if he was afraid for my safety.

  I slowly articulated my next thoughts, “wait, Tal... What do you mean by ‘most players can’t play them?’ It was a different experience than I’m used to, but I had no problem playing as a goblin. What’s a cerebral connection requirement?”

  He exhaled loudly. “Listen bro, you know I'm not supposed to tell you any of these things… They could sue the shit out of me just for what I already told you…” He paused for a moment. I waited for him to continue. “Ah, screw it… You were always shitty at getting hints anyways.” He sighed, “Alright. If the big shots knew what was happening with you, they’d tell you these things themselves to get you to stop. Or...” He hesitated for a moment, “They would just ban you from the game.”

  Banned?! My heart skipped a beat at those words. The game was my livelihood. It was like casually telling me I was going to lose one of my legs!

  “Anyway,” he continued, “You know how some people can’t use FIVR rigs at all?”.

  “Yes,” I thought back on what I had read a while back. “Different people's minds work differently, some people can only establish rudimentary connections, allowing them to use only the basic functions of the FIVR, chat rooms and such. Some people can’t connect at all, though it’s almost unheard of.

  “That’s right” he said approvingly. “And that’s because of the cerebral connection percentage, or CCP for short. The FIVR technology works by interfacing with billions maybe trillions of connection points in the brain. You only need 1% connections for basic integration with a FIVR capsule. New Era Online is a more complex simulation, it requires a whopping 3% cerebral connection. Most people, about 90% of the population, have an average of 10 to 20 percent cerebral connectivity. About 7 percent of the population is below that but still above the minimum, which is enough for a playable experience. Less than 2% of the population has more than the average connectivity ratio. Of course, the more cerebral connections your mind makes with the FIVR, the more immersive and complete the simulation is, and the better the feedback you receive from the game.”

  “Okay…” I slowly mouthed, it was a lot of information to take in. “That pretty interesting, but how is this connected to me playing a goblin?”

  “I’m getting to that,” He answered. “We’ve played a bit together in the past, and I noticed you always cast your magic without calling out the names of your spells, am I right?”

  “Yes…” I shrugged, “I’ve always only had to think about the skill or spell I want to use and they work.” I had wondered why everyone else felt it was necessary to yell the name of the spells they were casting.

  “That’s right,” he continued, “80% of the population doesn't have sufficient CCP for pure thought-based control of the game, so the game’s player-assist uses what they say as activation confirmation. That’s why they have to shout the names of the spells. The game initiates a spell when a player speaks the verbal command for the spell in conjunction with an intent to activate the spell. The game system determines the player’s intent by recognizing the player’s brain patterns, a learning process in both directions. Without this feature, players could cause havoc during a normal conversation if they accidentally said ‘fireball’. You on the other hand, manipulate all the controls by thought only; inventory, skills, messaging, log out and so forth. am I correct?”

  “Yes, of course,” I answered. “I think I understand. More connections mean better control of the game. So what’s the required cerebral connection percentage for playing an unplayable NPC race?”

  He paused for a long moment.

  “Forty percent” he finally replied, reluctantly. “And less than 0.1% of the population can achieve that connection grade. It’s pretty obvious you’re one of those select few, I’ve suspected it for a while. That is the reason you can play as a goblin, that’s also why it’s so dangerous. No one has done it before, not even the testers. It is unfamiliar territory, with huge potential for serious danger to you. Software bugs are not even the worst part, you may experience headaches, sudden spells of dizziness that won’t pass, or even suffer night terrors. I’m not shitting you bro, this thing can go bad real quick. Now would you please delete that character, and create a new one? I’ll even help power level you. We’ll get you strong enough to get those bastards in no time. What do you say?”

  “Why 40%?”

  “Eh?”

  “Why do you need 40% connectivity for basically playing just a different character skin?” I asked.

  “Oh man, you’re going to get me into trouble, these are trade secrets… oh, what the hell…. As we discussed, a higher connection percentage makes for a better immersion experience, your mind sends and receives more information, which means you’re interacting more fully with the game and have more control over it.” He paused again, and I could imagine him rubbing his forehead from the other end. “We pride ourselves that NEO is not just another MMORPG that respawns mindless mob after mindless mob, with the bosses as the exception, of course. Instead, we have a fully living interactive environment, okay? So how do you think there are enough monsters for players to hunt?”

  That question stunned me. He was right, that made no sense. A noob player could kill dozens of wolves each day. There was no way monsters could naturally reproduce fast enough to accommodate the daily massacre that millions of trigger-happy, genocide-prone players caused.

  “I have no idea.” I admitted.

  He chuckled. “The answer is actually quite simple. The big secret is…time.”

  “Time?”

  “Monsters are chronologically accelerated.” He clarified. “By a factor of 12.” He let me have a moment for that bit of news to sink in.

  “That means that a goblin clan that was killed off can fully restore itself in about two weeks of real time. Unintelligent mobs like wolves and such take even less time than that. That’s also why undisturbed lairs are so strong and high leveled, they accumulate it all over more time subjectively. From their perspective, they may have had years, decades, or centuries of uninterrupted development.

  So now you get it? Players without the required connection percentage can’t perceive the accelerated time stream the game puts them in. They experience a confusing data feed their brain can’t process, and they end up with a character that seemingly doesn’t react to their commands.

  But you, you managed to overcome that… and that’s dangerous bro”.

  My mind was reeling. So I’ve been experiencing accelerated time when I played my goblin character? I couldn’t tell a difference! Could it really have been only a few minutes IRL while I was meditating and getting all those quests?

  Tal continued after giving me a few seconds to process his latest bomb. “Do you remember that case in the news about a player named David, not-the-one, Tenenbaum? The one who couldn’t log out?”

  “Yes,” I replied, “It was a big deal in the news.“ Being stuck in the game was one of the biggest fears associated with FIVR technology. Log-out had to be manually initiated by the player. Unplugging a player from outside the FIVR could cause pe
rmanent brain damage. There were numerous fail-safe systems to safeguard players in case of network or power failures. So David Tenenbaum’s case was unique.

  “That guy was a savant, but was also diagnosed with severe autism. His brain was a perfect receiver for connecting with the FIVR system, he had over 100% CCP; that means more than the maximum number of connections a FIVR capsule could handle. That caused him to inadvertently tap into the time acceleration, despite the safeguards. The guy wasn’t ready for the experience and was overwhelmed. He literally sat down in the game and didn’t move for days. Thankfully, he didn’t suffer. He was just happily soaking in data from the game until the dev team implemented a forced log out for him from inside the game. As far as they could tell, when he came out, he wanted right back in. He goes berserk when they use the forced log out on him now. He just wants to sit on the ground, grinning his silly grin, sometimes for days. He even found a way to gather XP, like it’s from thin air. Before the VR, he was moderately responsive in-real-life. Now he completely ignores any attempt to communicate with him in or out of the game. He’s like a living vegetable that won’t tolerate living on the outside. We gave his parents the ability to force him to log out, so they can take care of him.” His voice took a sorrowful tone.

  “So you see Oren, time acceleration is just one example of the dangers of full immersion in NEO… don’t mess around with it man, it can screw up your mind. Come on, just delete that goblin, and let’s meet tonight for a beer, on me. What do you say?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “I need a little time to process it all, Tal. I really appreciate the info and the warning. Just… let me sleep on it, ok?”

  “Not much I can do, just please be careful, I don’t have so many friends that I can afford to lose one,” he finished with a chuckle.

  I grinned, “Same here bro, I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.”

  I paid the waitress and made the short drive back home. My mind was reeling from what I’ve just learned.

  That was one hell of a bombshell. The dangers Tal described were frightening, my first instinct was to follow his advice and delete my cursed character.

  But then again…. I did play for almost an hour without any issues.

  And when I logged out I didn’t feel any of the symptoms Tal mentioned, I felt perfectly fine.

  Maybe I have a high enough CCP that allows me to play safely? I mused.

  It was an exhilarating thought. It meant I was special, that my success as a gamer was more than just talent, it was my calling. It felt almost like having superpowers. The thought was thrilling.

  Maybe I could try playing just a little bit more, test it out a little bit longer… If I start getting a headache, or anything, any symptoms at all, I’ll just stop playing.

  But, if I could somehow continue building that little goblin guy up, at a speed 12 times faster than other players, I could achieve in a month, what a normal player would in a year. I would be able to exact vengeance on my former guild members a lot sooner than I expected if all goes well. It sounded almost too good to be true, I couldn’t just let the opportunity pass. I had to try.

  At the first sign of any symptoms, I’ll stop, I promised to myself again, mostly to alleviate my guilt for ignoring Tal’s warnings.

  But until then, I’m taking that chance!

  Back at my apartment I went straight to my game room. I paused, and looked at my capsule. Danger, real world risk, was now part of my virtual world; the gleaming metal capsule and snaking cables suddenly looked ominous, almost threatening. But I had to follow through.

  I’ll give myself twelve hours of game time, that’s one hour IRL, and then I’ll log out, I promised myself again. That seemed a reasonably safe test of my new reality.

  I got in and lay down in the capsule, and watched the lid close.

  The gel was warm against my skin, and the contacts extended like feelers towards me, linking to my nervous system, achieving what I now knew was over 40% cerebral connectivity. I closed my eyes and re-entered the game.

  4 - New Beginning

  FIVR Capsule Manual / Part I: Intro

  When prospective clients try one of our FIVR capsules for the first time, they are pleasantly surprised by the comfortable interior of the pods. There is a common, unconscious assumption by the public that the condition of the FIVR user’s body is inconsequential during immersion. Nothing could be further from the truth!

  The capsule’s interior is cushioned with a semi-liquid gel material that actively adapts to the user’s body and movements. During ‘immersion’ the dynamic message and repositioning mechanisms in the capsule’s interior shell, and within the mattress itself, prevent bed sores from forming while the user is in the coma-like state induced by the FIVR experience. The capsules incorporate an array of sensors and bio-monitors that comprehensively track the user’s health during their VR session.

  Details regarding the capsule’s features are reviewed in the following sections...

  ***

  The system log in sequence appeared in front of my eyes as it did a thousand times in the past.

  “Initiating full body scan...”

  “Welcome back Oren Berman, please enter your password.”

  I gritted my teeth, and said: “I’m the awesomest mage in the world.” That truly was a joke now. I had to change my password as soon as possible.

  “Password accepted. Log in, in 3…2...1...”

  During the countdown the game’s legal disclaimer flowed into view, as usual. “Blah… blah… blah… the company won’t be held responsible for any in-game mishaps... blah... blah... including but not limited to item or monetary theft... blah... blah… aggressive behavior from other players is permitted…” etc.

  I must have read those few lines a thousand times. The countdown could be stopped so it could be read carefully, but at this point, the words were seared into my brain. The company displayed the agreement every time a user logged into NEO. Before they can enter the game, users acknowledged they played the game at their own risk, releasing the company from any liability. Excluding game bugs or technical glitches. It was just the standard, corporate procedure of covering their own ass.

  As the countdown reached 1, the connection with my brain was fully established and my vision was replaced with darkness. Players always started with their eyes closed. It had something to do with reducing the stress from the mind as it was trying to cope with a sudden change in perspectives.

  I opened my eyes and looked around me.

  I was back in the goblin cave, standing at the entrance of the tunnel that led to the cemetery. I held up my arms and examined them intently. Like most goblins my new character’s skin was olive-green.

  I waved my arms around, they moved normally.

  Was I really moving 12 times faster? I wondered. I didn’t feel any different.

  I shook my head. It doesn’t make any sense. Does it mean that if I met other players, I’d be 12 times faster than them? Would I be like the Flash in the superhero comics? But that’s ridiculous…all the monsters I encountered in the past moved at normal speeds. I shrugged as I came to a simple conclusion; I guess I’ll have to wait and find out.

  Well, I knew what I was supposed to do now. I had the basic outline of my strategy laid out; establish myself with the Drippers clan, grind my skills and levels, gather resources and concentrate on crafting better equipment for myself.

  The first step should be easy. Bogan the chieftain wanted me to prove myself to the clan. I had a strong hunch that the quest to find the huntress Tika, for the old goblin cook, Guba, was the first step.

  So, let’s go find us a huntress.

  I walked into the main area. Across from me on the other side of the cavern was a large asymmetrical cave opening to what I assumed was the outside. At least, that is where the natural light and fresh air were coming from. As I walked toward the exit, I used Analyze on every goblin along the way.

  After talking with Tal, I realized how fortuna
te I was to be able to activate my skills with thoughts alone, something I had always taken for granted. Walking through the cave yelling ‘Analyze’ in the face of every goblin I met was bound to land me in trouble.

  Goblin worker; level 1; 7 HP

  Goblin worker, level 1; 7 HP

  Goblin warrior, level 1; 22 HP

  A lone goblin stood in my way. I automatically analyzed this monster just like the rest.

  DurDur, Goblin Totem; level ??; ?? HP

  Okay, this guy was different.

  He was old, like Guba the cook, his face was scarred from a badly healed burn, and his snarl was missing several teeth. He wore a headdress with dirty feathers sticking out and back; there were fangs, beads, and claws woven into the headband, and a garish horned half-skull was set in the very center. He carried a gnarled dark wooden staff capped with a fanged and horned skull, two black feathers trailed from a beaded cord looped around the wood. He was bare chested and wrapped around his waist was what could best be described as a grubby leather kilt.