by Luke Isaacs
“Oh, I thought you understood,” Mehemet said, waving to a man who had arrived at the entrance of their private balcony. “Regardless of whether the Thugs win, you will sell me one hundred thousand shares.”
“No, that wasn’t the arrangement.”
“Oh, but it was. If you renege now, I would, of course, be forced to send a holo-recording of our conversation to the CEO and board of your company... not to mention the VNet commission.”
Yee’s mind was racing. He had been completely outmaneuvered. Still, in the end, knowing he was defeated he insisted upon one more condition.
“I agree if you promise me mercenaries in the championship to aid the Thugs and hinder the other teams.”
“Of course! This is what you are buying my friend, my ‘assistance’.” Mehemet waved to the newcomer. “This is Peter Vladimirovich, my lawyer. He will finalize the details of our agreement, while I make some calls. ”
4
“Please explain to me again why we don’t need to compete in the preliminaries?” Rania asked.
Rick had arranged for the team to gather and view the preliminaries, the knockout tournament for anybody who didn’t automatically qualify for the main championship. GodsRealm Inc, the sole owner of the game and associated events, insisted that the player cap for the championship remained at two thousand contestants forever and produced the sister event called the Preliminaries. In the Preliminaries, any individual or any team outside the top one thousand who could afford the two thousand DC per head entry fee was able to fight for a chance to compete in the Championship.
“Because up until this year, we were outside the top one thousand. Now, we are the second best,” said Rick, doing well to keep the irritation from his tone. Rania was a great game player but cared little for the intricacies of qualification, entry requirements and tournament organization.
“So why bother watching?”
“Because Camille the Dark,” said Mario, who called everybody by their game name when they were public in-game. “We can check the competition. Every year someone comes out of the box and scores a few telling victories, just look at us.”
“Oh.”
Mario pointed.
“Now, just watch this team, ‘True Heroes Under God Society’. Arrogant name, but they look competent and have very expensive equipment.”
“THUGS for short!” Dana said. “They must be one of those sponsored teams with a big VNet entity backing them up.”
She moved closer to the others after checking out the other spectator avatars. She hadn’t seen anyone suspicious. Ever since the encounter with the dragon, she’d been taking extra care when in-game.
They stood on the floating viewing platform especially reserved for spectators of the Preliminaries. The tickets sold for 15 DC, and it was cheap entertainment for a lot of people, especially kids under 13 who were not allowed to play in the championship.
“It is good publicity for any sponsor,” Mark said. “Sorry for denying you the opportunity when it was offered, guys.”
By the end of last year’s championship, at least 10 sponsors had approached the team, but Mark announced that if they took any, he would have to leave the group for personal reasons.
They didn’t want to lose him. They knew taking on a sponsor would mean his hacking exploits might be uncovered when thorough background checking of their individual finances was undertaken.
Still, they held a meeting where he wasn’t present and voted on whether to drop him and take up a sponsorship. They all voted yes, although Mario voiced some strong opinions. Rick felt they’d made the right decision. Mark was an asset to the team, and it also helped to know that sponsored teams were basically slaves to their benefactors for an entire year, even if they got paid for it.
They all turned their attention to the Thugs in time to watch the expensively equipped team launch an attack on a group of players.
“They don’t have a Mage more powerful than Level 15,” Rick noted. “Almost no Area of Effect damage at all.”
“Maybe they are holding back till the championship?” Rania said.
“Impossible, there are several plus-20 Level teams out there, if they want to qualify they’ll have to use every trick they have got up their sleeves,” Rick countered.
“Something’s fishy, folks,” Dana pointed at the flanks of Thugs. “See there! A group of individual players pushing back other teams that would ambush them.”
“Yeah, they look like they’re paving the way for the Thugs,” Mark agreed
As they were commenting, the Thugs neared one of the first programmed AI obstacles in the arena, a Level 25 Giant, who stepped out of the mouth of the cave tunnel that would lead to the semi-finalist zone.
This is when they realized how much DC the Thugs or their backers had lavished on their weapons cache. The group lobbed Mana bombs at the giant. Generally, those bombs were collectors’ items. In their team, only Mark and Mario had more than one. Mark, of course, bought four for an amount he wouldn’t disclose in the Mana Craze auction last year, while Mario got his when he completed the single-player challenge, Odin’s Path, the hardest quest in the game. It had taken him three months of play time and he only walked away with two bombs.
The Thugs threw at least 10 of the bombs at the giant, and when he fell, the team rushed for the cave mouth. Getting through first was a huge advantage – the giant would respawn when another player approached, giving the first to pass valuable time.
“You think they are cheating?” Dana asked Mark. As a shady hacker in real life, she thought he would have some thoughts.
Surprisingly, the answer came from Rania, who unknown to the rest of them, also had some intimate knowledge about cheating in the game.
“Impossible, the entry to this event would purge any unauthorized items a player has.”
“She’s right,” said Mark.
Valhalla Greatest moved to the other side of the viewing platform with the rest of the crowd to watch the advancement of the Thugs in the semi-finalist zone.
Again, and again, the Thugs had help from singular, high-level combatants. Rick recognized a few of them as professional players that normally cared little for the preliminaries. Most of them were in the top thousand anyway and already qualified for the championship. What of the others?
“Some of those defending the Thugs,” Rania pointed out with admiration in her voice. “Are Legionnaires! I’m sure of it.”
“Legionnaires are an urban legend, they don’t really exist,” Rick said, speaking of the rumored third-generation AI players that couldn’t be distinguished from human players. He watched the advancement of the Thugs, aided and abetted by their apparent allies.
“Look, Rick, it’s true. Watch the way they move, so smooth. There are at least three in that group of seven and they’re not touching the Thugs at all.”
Rania touched his arm and Rick jumped back, much to the surprise of his teammate.
“Sorry, I got startled,” he brushed his strange reaction with a wave of his hand. “You might be right. Look, those four are actually holding the gates to the final zone so they can pass.”
The gates of the final zone were Health and Mana stealers, and players were supposed to use tanks to hold the doors for the other teammates to pass. Any other character with lower than a few thousand Health points would perish before his teammates passed through.
“Odin’s Beard! What kind of health count do those guys have?” Mark was looking in amazement as four singular players held the gate for a very long time, enough to let the Thugs and another ten players pass before they went through themselves.
“Cheating!” Screamed Dana at the top of her lungs, even though nobody would hear her outside of the section they stood on; she did it to vent her anger at the whole proceeding anyway.
“Let’s check how they do in the final stage,” said Mario, moving to the direction of the balconies facing the final zone. “It should be interesting to see them fight their way through th
e best players and three dragons.”
They had only just settled into place to watch the final battle when a female player from the Thugs threw a spell that took the glowing shape of a huge hourglass.
There was a deep boom that Rick felt in his stomach, and then everything and everyone in the game froze.
“No way!” Rick shouted excitedly. “A time paradox spell, that thing sold for a hundred thousand DC!”
A loud ticking began reverberating across the lanscape. The Thugs had 30 seconds of stopped time, but neither Rick or any of the team knew how they would use it.
The Thugs ran to the north corner of the arena where the largest and highest level of the dragons stood frozen in time.
Rick knew the rules: if you were one of the last one thousand players standing in the final zone, or if you managed to finish off one of the three dragons, you gained entry to the championship.
The dragon they surrounded was a Level 50 Emperor Dragon, only ever seen in the preliminaries or the championship itself. Any team with levels less than 25 trying to kill it, would face an extremely difficult fight. That is, if they actually succeeded, and were not killed in the process.
Almost to a person, the Valhalla Greatest edged forward in anticipation.
The Thugs circled the immobile dragon and started to conjure holding cages around it. Each cage one would take the dragon around 20 seconds to destroy – each of the powerful spells was worth around 10 thousand DC.
“They better hurry,” said Rick, his voice trembling with excitement.
After they trapped it in around a hundred of the holding cages, they began to throw Mana bombs at the temporarily helpless dragon.
The 30 seconds finished with a boom and the dragon reanimated only to find itself surrounded by cage upon cage, unable to immediately fight back against its assailants.
As the Thugs fought their presently one-sided battle with the dragon, the single players who had been easing the path formed a defensive cordon around them, fending off any other player or team approaching them. The Thugs exhausted their supply of Mana bombs and shifted to other projectiles.
“Paladin bombs as well,” Rick commented, his voice not so excited anymore. “The sponsor of Thugs must have bottomless pockets.”
Paladin bombs released the force of a team of Paladins, equal in stats to the caster upon the enemy until they died, or the battle finished. Only the purest of players were able to use them, a character of a demonic race or anything but lawful, good characters were unable to use them at all.
“These guys work like AI too,” Mark commented. “They seem too coordinated to be a team of people who don’t know each other except in the game.”
“More Legionnaires?” Dana queried.
Mark nodded as the dragon began to swoon under the damaging barrage.
“Isn’t this totally illegal according to the game rules? Wouldn’t it get them banned for a year or something?” Rania said, her glowing eyes fixated on the carnage.
“If somebody can prove it, yes.” Mark turned to face the group. “But it’s too difficult to pursue, dangerous too, given that they must have extremely powerful backers.”
Game rules stated that if you accused a player of cheating and your accusation was false, you lost half of your gained experience, practically dropping you down at least five or six levels.
The team watched the supporting players join in and start to attack the dragon with the Thugs.
“Clever, if they share with enough points in the kill,” Mario remarked, pointing to the events unfolding in front of them. “They will all be considered slayers of the dragon, thus automatically qualified.”
Just as he finished his words, the dragon fell, and a roar went up from the crowd and participants. The Valhalla Greatest team didn’t join in the celebration of the audience. Less than a minute later the sound of a horn reverberated around the stadium and the victorious team, their supporting players, and the remainder of the one thousand qualifiers blinked out of the game.
The preliminaries were over.
“I guess that Odin’s Hand aren’t our only competition now,” Rick announced.
5
Selma, Rick’s grandmother, settled in front of the holo TV with a cup of tea just as the announcer began the live coverage. Selma tut-tutted the plastic looking announcer and his shiny hair. Behind him, resplendent in the sunshine, a massive real-life sports stadium loomed like a silver spaceship.
“Welcome everyone at home and those special guests in any of the luxurious Infinity Cafés in and around Elysium Gardens. In just a few moments, the GodsRealm annual championship will begin!”
“Behind me, the Omega Dome, built in 2030 to commemorate victory in the Great China Wars is host to this year’s championship, sponsored by EB, your go-to for faster VNet access…” Selma’s eyes glazed as he droned on, listing more sponsors and talking about the past winners.
The holo image pans around the unique dome-shaped building as he talked. Its exterior is made up of thousands of panels of opaque plexiglass, which gives it the silver tinge.
“It’s almost showtime, folks,” he announces. “They’ve sounded the first warning, and the contestants are suiting up. Time for me to join our ground team. The Dome closes in 10 minutes, and we do not want to be locked out.”
The hover camera followed the physically perfect announcer as he left his desk, ran down the stairs of his temporary studio and jogged the distance to the entrance of the Dome.
“You run fool,” mumbled Selma.
It was only when he disappeared in the shadow of the Dome that one really understood the scale of the massive structure. Once inside it was clear that the Omega was at least three times the size of a football stadium. 150 thousand people packed the stands, nearly everyone wearing the holo glasses what would allow them to watch the championship in VR.
Over his shoulder was the astro-turfed field, where all two thousand participants were seated or standing in their gaming suits. Most of them were ready to rumble and had already put their holo glasses on.
Selma’s eyes searched for Rick beyond the announcer, but it was like trying to pick a needle in a haystack.
Thankfully, the camera floated up and away from the announcer as he continued his droning commentary and began to scan the contestants.
First, it approached the Odin’s Hand team, displaying each member’s character sheet and most recent stats. A roar went up from the crowd. Champions always had considerable support.
Naturally, it hovered towards the previous year’s runners-up, Valhalla Greatest. The roar that went up for them was considerably louder than that for Odin’s Hand. If there was one thing fans loved more than a champion, it was an underdog, especially one who repeatedly refused big money sponsorship.
Rick’s stats popped up next to him as he was trying out the standard-issue VNet suit. Realms of VR company supplied a suit to each player in the championship. It was compulsory to wear and was to ensure that no-one had a non-game bought or earned an advantage over other players.
If Selma could hear what the Valhalla Greatest were saying by their secure coms link, she would have had a stroke.
“So, I looked into the Thugs.” Mark jumped up and down in his holo-globe, testing its gravity nullifying plates as he addressed the team. “They were only listed as a team after last year’s championship. Two of their members are barely 14 years old, just old enough for the competition.”
“I hate to cream a kid,” Rania waved to a technician to change her gloves, which were too large. “But I will do my best to crash the sweet-pea 14-year-olds off the face of GodsRealm.”
The fact that the gloves were too big for her only added to Rick’s conviction she was actually a girl, even though she wore camouflage skin head-to-toe whenever they were real-world together. Camo-skin was quite common practice for many players of the championship who wished to avoid publicity or identification, but Rick wished that just one time she would show her real self.
He only had personality and her avatar to go by, but he was certain she was beautiful.
“Have you checked the equipment of Odin’s Hand?” Dana addressed her teammates, “We’re far superior to them in firepower this year and then some, thanks to Mr. Big Dragon.”
“No, it’s thanks to the armor sets from the Son of Beelzebub,” said Rick, as he ascended the portable steps into his holo-globe. “We couldn’t have beaten the dragon without them.”
The group chatted excitedly as they did their final checks and entered their holo-globes. A second horn sounded and the hundreds of extras and technicians swarming around the contestants started to evacuate the field.
“Here we go folks,” said Rick, a tremor of anticipation in his voice. “Let’s jack in.”
Reality winked out and Rick found himself in a vast sunlit valley surrounded by tall snowcapped peaks. His team was there along with two thousand other contestants scattered through the valley. When the last contestant jacked in, the third and final horn sounded. The game had officially commenced.
6
“Welcome faithful Einherjar, Ragnarök - the final war is at hand!” A huge roar from the assembled players went up as an immense AI-simulated Odin materialized over the mountains, his two famous ravens Huginn and Muninn cawing and flying around him. Rick felt goosebumps. The welcome from the gigantic Odin never failed to affect him. “Fenrir has broken his chains, Loki is free! And the serpent Jörmungandr has cracked the surface of Midgard. Yggdrasil has been split asunder by Fafnir!
“It is time to slay our enemy or to die in honor! Always beware your fellow Einherjar, and if they move against you, kill them without mercy!”
Thor, the most commercially abused God in entertainment, appeared suddenly beside Odin with lightning crackling from his famous hammer Mjolnir.
“Einherjar, Hel has promised neutrality in the upcoming war, yet some of the dragons in her hold have escaped, and you may have to fight them off.” With a very complicated piece of coding, Thor was now addressing every single player personally as if he meant the message for only him or her. “Killing any of the dragons, Nidhogg, or Fáfnir will grant you the equivalent of 10 enemies slain on the field and allow you to go forward into battle with the great serpent Jörmungandr. Go to battle and kill these monsters with my blessing!”