Neuronet connection activated. Neuroimplant connected.
I closed my eyes, collapsing into the void.
* * *
Phantom Server
Login
I was shaking.
I couldn't think straight. Never had my introduction to a new game world been accompanied by such a bunch of weird and painful sensations.
I couldn't see a thing. I tried to move but I didn’t feel my body. My temples throbbed with a fading pain.
All the interface icons were gray.
A painful tingling sensation pervaded my muscles. My unfocused mind barely registered some of the vague shadows that slid past. A whimpering, similar to a child's crying, filled my brain.
I wheezed, ripping my lungs with the effort.
I was lying on something hard and covered in frost. That's all I could tell at that moment. The air was cold and depleted of oxygen.
Messages flashed before my mind's eye.
Mind expander: not installed
Metabolic corrector: not installed
Reflex enhancer: not installed
Semantic processor: not installed
Alternative start conditions met.
Alternative start initialized.
By then I had half-caught my breath and was now courageously waiting for all the opening fanfare. You know what I mean, a full-dimensional visual masterpiece.
The pain returned in a flash. I failed to suppress a shriek. A hot breathing burned my cheek, forcing me to open my eyes. Their first "visual effect" was incredible. Some ugly creature the size of a monkey was trying to bite through my weird gear, its fat neck ring preventing the monster from sinking its teeth into my throat.
Instinctively I struggled with the failing muscles, trying to whack it nice and hard. The creature leapt back and disappeared into the darkness, crying like a little child.
That was spooky.
I couldn't believe their authenticity levels. I could still feel the creature's hot greedy breath on my cheek. Adrenaline was clouding my gaze crimson. Shivers ran over me; I was well and truly feverish.
Slowly the interface icons lit up one by one, coming to life.
Immediately I opened the logs and checked the entry,
A Kicker, a 15-level Xenomorph, has attempted to bite your throat.
Your aggressive reaction has scared the Kicker who runs away.
Yeah, right, I thought struggling to sit up. This had to be a newb location by definition. Why level 15 NPCs? Why the alternative start? Where was my character generation menu? Where were all the talent trees and available skill points? Where... where, in fact, was I?
It was cold. I was freezing in the heart of some wintry void. The floor was smooth — definitely not earth or stone. Was it some kind of artificial installation?
Messages started flashing before my mind's eye.
New quest alert! Alone.
Explore the location. Try to find at least one human being.
New quest alert! The Sleep of Reason.
In order to gain access to the character development panel, you need to find and install a mind expander.
New quest alert! It's Your Problem.
In order to survive, you need to find and install a metabolic corrector.
New quest alert! The Price of Freedom.
In order to be able to move between locations, you need to find and install a reflex enhancer.
New quest alert! I Can Hear Them.
In order to understand the language of Xenomorphs, you need to find and install a semantic processor.
Epic quest unblocked: Phantom Server.
In order to unblock new skill tree branches and activate the global story, you need to find out who created the world around you.
I opened the character generation menu.
Zander. Level 1. Human
A human body outline, gray slots, weird armor.
I studied the prompt.
A light armored suit. No integrated weapons. Contains five slots for dedicated cyber modules. Not airtight without a helmet. The environment sensor reports 10% oxygen content. Toxic contaminants content: 20%.
Effect: you are struggling to breathe. Every minute without protection deprives you of health and life. In order to survive, you need to install a metabolic corrector or find a helmet.
I heard more whimpering and whining that now sounded more like hysterical laughter. It seemed to be coming from all directions.
I burst out coughing. They were right: breathing was a struggle. The location swam before my eyes. I saw double.
You have received a dose of toxins.
What were they thinking of! I scrambled to my feet and struggled to focus, looking around.
Judging by the echoing sounds, the location was huge. I couldn't see its walls. The floor was covered in ice. No idea which way to go: the place was sinking in this hostile, arctic, toxic haze.
For the first time in years I felt lost. This was like none of the game worlds I'd ever been to. On one hand, my curiosity grew with every heartbeat. It had been a very long while since I'd experienced anything like this: a half-forgotten intoxicating feeling of an invalid leaving his bed for the first time, greedily taking in all the revived sensations.
In the twilight depths of my mind, Experience was holding a whispered counsel with Caution, making it clear: this was one hell of a world. They call it an alternative start? I'd very nearly had my throat torn out!
I had to think fast. My every breath stripped me of hits. I needed to find the helmet.
Question: where did they want me to find it? I activated the quest and switched over to the map. No direction markers. The location was swimming in the mist of war. It looked as if the difficulty levels of the alternative start were all maxed out. Specially for some hardcore lovers.
The first impressions made it clear: it looked as if I was stuck here for quite a while. Firstly, I had to find my respawn point. Normally they're situated in safe locations where the sheer amount of neutral characters saves the newbs from immediate mortal danger.
Doubtful. This Price of Freedom quest worried me a bit. In the absence of their mysterious Reflex Enhancer I could resurrect right here. Somehow I didn't think I could change my bind point. I had a funny feeling that this "alternative start" had been introduced for a reason...
I cast another look around me, trying to inhale as little as possible. The game designers must have been away on holiday when this particular level had been introduced. The emosphere made your blood curdle. The far-off whimpering and wailing really worked on your nerves, and the cold drove you to frustration. There was also no stage setting worth mentioning.
Occasionally the floor echoed with distinct vibrations, easily recognizable as someone's heavy gait.
Never mind. I've seen worse than this. Guided by the sounds, I tried to choose a safe direction.
The icy sheets of mist clung to my shuddering body. The laughter and the whimpering seemed to distance somewhat. My heart fluttered in my chest, my breathing refusing to obey me. The life bar had already begun to shrink before I'd even met a single target!
A few minutes later I noticed an enormous mound of small sharp-edged bits of debris. Was it a rockfall? I turned and staggered toward it. The toxic fog thickened, acquiring a greenish hue. Every breath I took resulted in acute pain. Those neuroimplants were quick learners. So I wanted authenticity? There it was, the whole nine yards of it.
I doubled up in a paroxysm of coughing. Everything was swimming before my eyes.
I swung round to a rustling sound, just in time to glimpse some squat silhouettes through the haze. Mechanically I picked up one of the angular stones, not even noticing that I'd cut myself. I had no gloves. The unknown creatures disappeared from sight, replaced by a message,
You've received critical damage!
Since when? No one had even approached me yet! I stared at the piece of rock I still clutched in my hand. It was glowing — dimly and unevenly. A barely noticeable
glow. I focused on the item.
Radioactive ore. Effect: radiation sickness. Any intervention is currently impossible. In order to neutralize the deadly exposure, you need to find a metabolic corrector.
Suddenly I became quite disillusioned with both the gameplay and this particular scenario. My life bar kept shrinking rapidly. My legs were shaking. I retched violently and collapsed to the floor, convulsing.
The brief agony ended in paralysis. The spasms stopped. Darkness encroached on me, devouring my mind.
At the last moment my vision sharpened; I could see a ruptured domed ceiling overhead. My gaze penetrated the haze, making out the futuristic outline of a spaceship. It had rammed the ceiling and was forever stuck in the framework. The rockslide that had just become my ignominious and agonizing undoing was the ore that had poured out of its holds.
* * *
Respawn
The heavy steps shook the floor.
The toxic haze; the ground covered in a thick layer of ice; the whining noises in the dark. Been there. My fists clenched. Instinctively I waited for the monsters to attack, feeling angry, lost and deceived. Talk about a stupid death. What an embarrassment for someone with my twenty-five years of gaming experience.
What on earth was going on? The developers' main objective is to ease new players into the game, permitting them to embrace their new reality. Not alienate them! I could imagine the newbs' reaction to this kind of alternative start. They'd just slam the Logout button, end of story.
Lying on the icy floor made me shiver. I scrambled to my feet.
I felt like crap. I hadn't exactly lost interest but was dangerously close to doing so. Couldn't they give me a chance to do some leveling for a change? After the top bucks I'd paid them?
My anger kept mounting.
I hadn't yet pressed the Logout button out of principle, even though I had every reason to believe the location glitched big time. The game was still in alpha testing, after all. Trying to stay cool, I sent a technical support ticket describing all the problems I'd encountered.
No reply. The whimpering and the laughter were growing closer, approaching from three different directions.
I could make out a squat ugly shape in the haze. Barely visible, the creature was running on all fours.
A Kicker. Xenomorph. Level 15.
Time to move my respawn point. Wish I knew how to do it though. I had no suitable skills nor artifacts. The interface had no relevant options at all.
My anger mounted some more. Calm down, I told myself. I needed to disconnect, then try to login again. I could see no other way. Trying to fight three level-15 mobs was an exercise in futility. I just hoped that the alternative start was a glitch. Next time I'd find myself in a normal location.
* * *
Logout
Slowly I came round. My apartment was warm but I was still shuddering from the rheumy cold that had permeated my bones.
My throat felt raw from the toxic fumes. One might think I'd really inhaled them. Wretched implant! High authenticity levels were all good and well but there had to be certain limits!
I gulped down some water without leaving the capsule.
Okay. Let's try it again.
I entered the address. The familiar message popped up.
Warning! You're entering a restricted area. You must have arrived at this page by mistake.
* * *
Login
The toxic haze stirred.
I held my breath. Hearing the scampering sounds of approaching footsteps, I swung round. Too late. One of the monsters had already taken a powerful leap. The creature rammed my chest. A paw rose to claw me, sending fireworks of pain as it slit my head open.
Blood gushed onto the floor. I collapsed, unable to stay on my feet. The creature sprang back.
Grrrgrrr. The hunching silhouettes circled me in the dark, closer and closer.
I crawled back. The depth and intensity of feeling were mind-boggling. Everything I'd experienced before was just a shadow of what I was feeling now. Blood gushed into my eyes — I could taste it, my hastened breathing tearing up my lungs, defying all gaming stereotypes.
Their authenticity levels were going through the roof. I was gasping, struggling for breath. Blood-curdling instincts escaped my subconscious, breaking the age-old ice of boredom. I was driven by one need alone. I had to survive, whatever the price.
Grrrgrrr, a shadow rushed out of the gloom.
Instinctively I threw up my left arm to protect myself. Sharp teeth sank through the armor into my flesh, mauling the muscle. Pain pierced me from shoulder to tail bone. Everything went dark. A hoarse scream escaped my throat. Two other xenomorphs met my insane glare, apparently unsure about assaulting me. They recoiled as if they'd been burned and began circling me at a distance, whimpering hysterically.
Wheezing, I grabbed the monster by the scruff of its neck with my right hand and forced the creature off me, seeing its hateful furrowed face. Its eyes glared greedily, its teeth hurriedly munching on a piece of my flesh.
The room swam again. Deluded with pain, I rammed the creature's head against the floor in a fit of uncontrolled fury. Again. Again. And again. The gargling sounds, the crunching of bones breaking — I watched it all through some crimson daze, unable to stop.
You've received a new level!
The message sobered me like a slap in the face.
My fingers slackened. I looked around, but the two other xenomorphs had disappeared somewhere. Their mocking hair-raising laughter had stopped. Silence hung in the air. The new message contorted before my eyes.
You've received a new level!
Congratulations! You've received a unique human ability: Berserk. In case of your fighting unarmed with less than 5% Health, you'll be able to ignore the enemy's defenses, dealing only critical damage.
The sight of you terrifies your enemy. They flee, unable to attack you.
I slid down onto the bloodied floor. Some of the ice had melted, forming little red puddles. I kept shuddering. Then I began to retch. I couldn't help it. I was convulsing in revulsion. A hum in my blocked ears replaced the piercing silence.
My left arm hung listlessly. I didn't feel it.
The life bar was barely glowing. The pain wouldn't subside. My injuries bled. So this was your game reality of the future?
* * *
The Berserk still seemed to be working. I could neither see nor think straight in the all-consuming agony.
I had nothing to staunch the bleeding with. I didn't have a single shred of fabric with which to make a tourniquet.
My stare stopped at the xenomorph I'd just torn apart.
Loot was loot. Even though my stomach protested fiercely. The entire gameplay seemed to defy convention. Take this Kicker, for instance. What kind of monster was that? A regular monkey with slightly more dangerous teeth and claws. And how about the emotional backdrop? What was so terrifying about it? I'd seen much worse mobs and spookier locations where your teeth literally chattered with horror. And what was this? An empty space fitted with some toxins and a handful of monkeys. Child's play, you'd say: I was getting a bit jumpy, that's all.
And you'd be right, of course. Only the problem was, I couldn't move my hand. I watched blood, hot and sticky, dripping from my fingers. Each breath stripped me of some hits but also made me feel physically sick. You wanna try?
My inner opponents promptly shut up, demoralized.
I crouched next to the xenomorph and turned him over. Did you enjoy your breakfast, you bastard?
His face was a mess of blood and gore. His skull had cracked. His teeth were gone.
So how was I supposed to search him? I could agree to lots of things but this was pure trash. What kind of developers did they think they were? He had no gear, for crissakes! All he had was his own skin covered with matted hair. Did they want me to cut his belly open?
Squeamishly (I'd never thought I was squeamish before) I touched the monster's belly. Ah! That was clever! He had a
pouch there. Just like a kangaroo.
I pulled out some incomprehensible clot of slime. I weighed it in my hand, studying it, trying to focus.
A symbiont. Under normal conditions, strips you of 100 pt. Life. Offers a one-off restoration of 1000 pt. Life if you're wounded. Metabolically compatible with the Kickers, Dargians and the Haash. Its effect on human metabolism is unknown due to the fact that it has never been tested on humans.
I sensed the familiar weak spark of curiosity. I wasn't going to consume something as disgusting as that, of course. I didn't even know how I was supposed to install the wretched thing.
The lump then stirred, stretching out a semblance of a tentacle — it must have sensed blood.
Better safe than sorry, I thought as I stashed my loot away into one of my gear pockets while looking around, listening intently. What was that saying I'd heard — You can never be too paranoid? I couldn't agree more.
It looked like I didn't have to fear another respawn soon. The blood had already caked. The pain abated. I still struggled for breath but my life bar was gradually restoring. I couldn't fight to say the least, so I had to be cautious and act quickly before the scared xenomorphs returned.
Only then did the thought strike me: what did I even know about the Phantom Server?
Nothing, apparently, not to mention whatever meager experience I'd already had. Judging by the quests I'd received, this was some kind of technogenic world. No wonder I'd seen that spaceship or whatever it was. The very name xenomorph, too, suited the theme.
So where was I supposed to be?
Well, that I had to find out, didn't I? The obviously artificial smooth flooring could mean anything. The toxins? Likewise. I had to explore the location. As I'd already found out, the choice of direction was vital. The thicker the haze, the more toxic it was. The green glow was also pretty clear: I had to avoid it, at least until I got myself some decent gear.
Edge of Reality (Phantom Server: Book #1) Page 3