“Alright, let’s head there.”
I pulled out my blue summoning stone and called forth Peragon, my lightning blue pegasus-dragon hybrid mount. Chloe pulled out her own summoning gem. It was orange and looked more like a cut topaz than a round stone.
“Huh, I didn’t know you had a mount.”
Chloe shrugged. “After we got the Bird’s Eye, I didn’t see the point in using him.”
She threw the stone into the air. With a flash of blazing light, the topaz turned into a burning phoenix. The graceful bird flapped its wings slowly, padding its landing with its talons on the city tiles.
“I call him Fawkes,” she said as she hopped on. The bird wasn’t that large, and I assumed that only Range or Spellcaster Niches could ride such a mount.
“After Dumbledore’s phoenix?”
“I knew you would pick up on that reference, you geek.”
“Biggest fantasy books for decades, biggest fantasy game.” I shrugged with a grin. “I’d say it was a safe assumption.”
I got on Peragon, and we took off into the clear sky. Although the Coliseum was in the Galrinth province, it was far enough to the north that it could have overlapped with the Onjira Desert. The farther north we went, the more Romanesque it became.
The warm wind rushed at us as we soared over Widow’s Forest, looking down at the few small Dark Age provinces where people could gain minor quests for Moola. I knew this was historically inaccurate, particularly considering the aesthetics changed from European to Roman as we headed north when Rome and Africa were actually south of Europe. It was like the first era of the Dream State was the European and African continents flipped geographically upside down. They must have flipped it horizontally, too, considering the Asian themed settings were to the west instead of to the east.
After several minutes of flying over the changing countryside full of ranging avatars and roving monsters, the massive circular Battle Royal Coliseum came into view along with its surrounding city.
“Chloe!” I shouted over the wind. “I’m going to head down and change my avatar in the Trans-House. This is going to sound selfish, but I’m going to enter the Battle Royal alone.”
“Why alone?”
“Because to show you what I want to show you, I’m going to have to destroy all my competition, and you can’t watch from a front row seat if I kill you too.”
Chloe gave me an unimpressed look. “What makes you so sure you would kill me?”
“Not you personally. Everyone. That’s why I want you to watch. It’s something that Windsor just shared with me, but I can’t tell you about until I get permission from him. When you see what I can do, you’ll understand.”
“Even so . . .” She turned away with a scowl. “Just watching doesn’t sound like any fun.”
“I’ll watch you fight in one afterward if you want. Just give me this one chance to show my new ability, and you’ll see what I mean.”
“Alright, fine.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Just don’t take too long changing your avatar; I don’t want to wait around forever.”
“Sounds fair. Alright, let’s head down so I can Robin Hood this thing.”
“Robin Hood?”
“Yeah, you know. Disguises himself for an archery competition?”
“Oh, right.” She smiled again. “Geek.”
Chapter 5: Battle Royal
I kept my word and didn’t waste time at the Trans-House, just using one of the default Spellcaster skins. It was a cheap avatar that made me look like a generic wizard with a default beard, pointy hat, and long blue robes. Despite Chloe being the one to ask me not to take too long, this didn’t stop her from bursting out with laughter as soon as I emerged into the busy street.
“What?” I asked. “I mean, it’s no Robin Hood, but this is still a classic. Besides, I’d think the Robin Hood skin would’ve been for the Range Niche, anyway.”
“I know, I know.” She snorted and tried to calm herself. “You just always look so edgy with your hooded cloak and blades that . . .” She started laughing again.
“Well, you said you didn’t want to wait around for me. Besides, I don’t think anyone will recognize me dressed like this.”
Chloe shook her head, trying to catch her breath. “Whatever you say, Gandalf.”
I scoffed, equipped my Cursed Druid Staff to complete the look, and stormed off up the crowded street toward the Coliseum entrance. The massive walls of the arena rose up to cast a shadow over the road. We moved into the reception area and looked around.
Above the entrance were several screens that showed the current Wanted Rankings for the Coliseum. I could see from the way they changed and the stats of all the players at the top that this was a big deal to people. Clearly, the players here took the rankings a lot more seriously than I did. Knowing Siena’s competitive nature, it made me wonder if she had fought here before.
I moved past the reception desk to where a woman NPC wearing a toga waited against one wall.
“I would like to take part in today’s Battle Royal.”
“There are five positions left,” she replied in a clearly automated response. “Please say your username and you will be entered into the competition.”
I leaned in close and whispered so no one else could hear. “NotThatNoah.”
“You are speaking too quietly. Please say again,” the NPC said with a raised voice.
I ground my teeth and looked around, but noticed no one around me. “NotThatNoah,” I said in as clear a voice as I could while still keeping it low.
In the same loud tone, the NPC said, “Very well, NotThatNoah has joined the rankings. The Battle Royal will begin in twenty minutes.”
My heart skipped a beat, but I saw no one was paying attention to me. No one but Chloe, who was leaning against a large support column with her arms crossed and an amused grin on her face.
“Thank yo—” I was about to say, but then stopped when I remembered I was talking to an NPC.
“I thought you didn’t want anyone to find out who you were,” Chloe teased as I walked over to her.
“Yeah, I know.” I moved past her. “Let’s see if Data managed to take my name off the Wanted Boards like I asked.”
Coming to the plinth with a small screen showing a browsing panel, I arranged the ranking to show the blank scores at the top by tapping the downward arrow next to the time column. Several names with --.--.-- showed up, and I was relieved to see my name wasn’t among them. I could actually tell from a blank space at the bottom where my name should have gone. Data had removed me, name and all, from the scoreboard.
I knew I could rely on him, but he could have given me a pseudonym so it didn’t stand out so much.
Chloe sidled over to me, and I pointed to the rankings. “See, I’m doing my best to keep my identity a secret.”
“Better be worth it.” She turned away. “So, when does it start?”
“Twenty minutes. Want to check this place out before it starts?”
She linked arms with me. “Sure. You promised me a front-row seat, after all.”
We made our way up a set of stairs toward the stands. I could already tell that the Coliseum that had appeared in Windsor’s Debug Room, what he had called Setting 18-A, was the prototype of this one. Besides the grit and chipped stone and other little details that made this one look ancient, they appeared to be mostly the same.
I was glad to see I could keep my promise. The crowd wasn’t as busy as the one from the Debug Room. I could only assume this was because most of those competing in this round would be unknowns just trying to get a match with the champion.
As we sat down and waited for the Battle Royal to be announced, I noticed a few dozen people began to appear around the stands. I recognized one of them and grabbed Chloe’s arm.
“Do you remember the faces of any of the guys from Sirswift’s team?” I asked.
Her brow furrowed. “No, they were always w
earing their hoods up. Why?”
“I saw a few of them after they killed you and Keri in Rubik’s Castle. I’m pretty sure there are two of them over there.”
I pointed to two of the avatars down a few rows from us. One was a massive Tank wielding a shield and a long spear. The other was an old man in a gray cloak and hood holding a gnarled staff, looking not too different from myself. Without their black robes, I couldn’t be sure, but seeing the two familiar avatars together reminded me of the time I had been fighting for my life. However, after a third one showed up, I almost hid my face. It was the same dark-skinned avatar who had been riding a Griffin after Brock and I had escaped New Calandor.
“Oh no!”
“Are you sure it’s them?” Chloe asked and then raised an eyebrow at me as I slouched down. “What are you doing? Even if they can see you, they won’t recognize you with how you look right now.” She grinned as though an idea had come to her. “In fact, if they are competing in the Battle Royal, who better to fight than them, huh?”
“You’re right.” I straightened. “I guess the only thing that could link me to my old avatar is you. I’ll see you later.”
Standing up and walking briskly from the stands, I heard Chloe call, “Hey!” as I jogged down the stairs.
I waited out the last ten minutes in the queue with the rest of the players competing. Chloe had been right. As soon as the announcement was given that the Battle Royal was beginning, I saw all three members of the old Catastrophe team appear at the back of the line. Two Spellcasters and a Tank could be a lethal combination if they were working together, and if they remembered the person who got them fired, they would probably team up against me.
What am I so afraid of? With Windsor’s new software, I can see into the future of this game!
“All contenders, please enter the arena,” the registration NPC said, and the people in front of me began to shuffle in. I followed suit, making sure to keep an eye on the three behind me.
My suspicion that Windsor’s Coliseum was a prototype of this one was dead on. Not only with the feel of the air and its size, but also the view of the crowd—although it was a lot less impressive than the NPC one Windsor had created.
One NPC still stood in the stands; however, he was separated in a booth that leaned out over the pit. Like the reception woman, he stood tall in a white toga, but unlike her he was large, fat, and had a circlet of gold reeds around his head.
“Here are the rules,” he announced in a bellowing voice. “First, no level three spells. In fact, you’ll find you won’t be able to access them at all. The same goes for rule number two: no Kamikaze Orbs. Finally, no guns—”
“An easy one to follow—” one of the contenders beside me, short enough to be a Range Niche, said before the announcer could. “—Considering guns haven’t been invented yet.” The announcer finished, but the man continued his commentary. “I wouldn’t mind the immersion breaking dialogue if they didn’t repeat it before every competition just in case some noob gets confused.”
“It makes sense,” I murmured, getting the Range Niche’s attention. “I mean, the spells and Kamikaze Orbs, not just because of their power, but their range, would make the damage they do indiscriminate.”
The Range stranger smirked. He had long brown hair, a bow, and a sling of arrows on his back. “The no-guns rule doesn’t make sense, though. I can nock and loose arrows faster than most guns can fire, anyway.”
“I assume banning them is to keep this era’s technology consistent,” I said, unable to help myself from defending the game.
“It really makes me question why they don’t just put a Coliseum in Heaven, where all weapons can be used.”
I frowned in thought. “Not a bad idea. I should remember to tell Win that.”
“Who’s Win?” the contender asked, his expression baffled.
Crap. Can’t help but run my mouth, can I?
“Ah, no one.”
The Range Niche lifted a hand. “Name’s Shardik, by the way. I’m a Ghost Hunter.”
I grinned, trying to hold back every secret I knew on the subject of Malcolm’s Ghost.
“Noah . . .” I slapped my face and corrected, “Not that Noah, though.” I slapped myself again, recalling my username. “I mean, I’m not the guy—”
Shardik squinted at me and was about to ask something but was cut off as the announcer called, “Everyone, select one of the dozen lights around the wall and wait for the call to begin.”
“Alright!” Shardik turned awkwardly and said, “Good luck, Noah. Tell you what, you watch my back and I’ll watch yours.”
An alliance, huh? Well, I guess I would prefer him over someone who tried to put me in a coma less than a year back.
I inclined my head. “Sounds good.”
We all parted, and I made my way to one of the dozen lights around the wide, circular pit. The lights were a similar blue to the projections of the time ability and rested just below the stands. It helped me remember why I was here: to test out Windsor’s new ability.
Really need to come up with a proper name for this thing. Maybe ‘Predictor’ or ‘Future Projection Software?’ FPS . . . no, that already stands for first person shooter. Fine, Future Projector will do for now.
In my Key Triggers, the Future Projection option was represented by a series of asterisks, and when the announcer called, “Begin!” I selected it. All at once, the blue projections emerged from the characters mere moments before they performed actions they were signaling. Some of their projections, like Shardik’s, didn’t move from their places. Rather, only his blue arms went to work drawing arrows from his sling, nocking them, and firing at the other players. I had to give it to Windsor—even the arrows had projections. Yet, when Shardik’s arrow hit a Spellcaster, the avatar’s projection didn’t react like they had been hit. Instead, it fell, parting from their projected path.
I found it interesting that movements responding to being struck weren’t telegraphed like the moves intended beforehand. I knew coming here was a good idea. I was learning things about this new ability already.
So unintended actions aren’t projected. Good to know.
Already, I saw two of the blue projections converging on me. Appearing to have made an alliance beforehand by how they moved together, I, standing on my own without having moved an inch, made an obvious target. They weren’t the ones from Catastrophe, but two Warriors who, from their even pace, looked like they had teamed up before.
On instinct, I almost equipped my Sapphire Edge to fight them, but then remembered that it would reveal exactly who I was. Instead, I drew my Cursed Staff and watched them approach. The two hulking Warriors had longswords, and one already had theirs lifted, or at least his projection did. I backed away, and their projections’ advance increased in speed.
My favorite level two spell combo would take care of one of them. I balled my fist while imagining an ice cube, turning one of them into an icicle with my Ice Coffin spell before charging and firing a Plasma Beam at him from my finger. As I expected of a Warrior, it appeared he focused his defense on physical attacks, for my beam shattered him into a thousand pieces. However, I had been focusing so much on my attack that I didn’t notice the other warrior charge in and swing his blade at me.
I ducked, the blue projection coming mere inches from my face. I knew that the projection wasn’t the blade itself; even so, it was unsettling how close behind the projection the real blade was. I equipped a Wakizashi and lunged to stab it into where his projection revealed a gap in his armor. As predicted, my blade slid between the plates just as I made my move.
The software still picked up his intention to stab me, and even as his avatar stopped from the sudden, diluted jolt of pain from my blow, the projection of his blade still passed harmlessly through me.
So the software reads the intention even if the action itself isn’t executed.
I pulled my blade free and jumped back as he attem
pted to swing his longsword once more. Seeing his moves before he made them, I waved an arm up and pushed him back with a Wind Blast. The Warrior’s advancing projection vanished a moment later. A line of light then landed in the Warrior’s neck, and less than a second later a Fire Arrow landed in his head, exploding it.
I heard a rapid tink-tink noise, drawing my attention across the pit. Shardik’s bow rose as he retreated from the ex-Catastrophe Tank’s long spear. Several arrows then appeared in the Tank’s door-sized shield. I didn’t see the other Spellcasters near them, but I could see from how fast the Heavy moved that they had enhanced his speed and stamina.
“Ah, a little help here!” Shardik cried out.
I thought it was only fair after he’d helped me. I cast a Gravity Warp on the Heavy to slow him down. Gravity spells affected Heavies a lot better than any other Niche merely due to the armor they wore. His quick thrusts slowed considerably.
Shardik leaped out of the way and jumped on top of the Heavy’s shield, firing several arrows into the helmet’s visor in quick succession. The Heavy fell, and Shardik flipped back from him, landing on the dust pit before giving me the thumbs up.
“Thanks, man!”
Suddenly, a stream of fire came rushing toward me, which looked awfully strange because the projected flames were blue. I ducked just as the real fire flew over my head. Rolling to the side, I saw that it had come from one of the Spellcasters—the old-looking one with a gnarled staff.
You’re the one who cast Toxin on me after I fled from Rubik’s Castle. If Brock hadn’t tricked Sirswift, I would have been made comatose because of you.
I found it fitting that on the same day Chloe had made a Harry Potter reference, someone was challenging me to a Spellcaster’s duel. Not only that, but we both looked like old wizards wielding magic staves, me looking like Merlin and my enemy looking like Saruman the Wise.
“Alright, one down, two to go!” I called to Shardik, and he gave me a baffled expression. There were at least five competitors left, after all. “But leave this one to me.”
“He’s all yours,” he called back, and began firing at another group.
Lost in the Game Page 4