Pangea Online 3: Vials and Tribulations

by S. L. Rowland

  The landmass splits into several continents and they spread around the planet. Mountains rise, deserts and lakes form, and then the planet expands again, doubling in size before it breaks apart into hundreds of shards, each one reflecting images of the many worlds of Pangea Online. Warriors fight, spaceships race, kingdoms battle one another in open fields.

  The shards continue to spread until they take up the entirety of the screen. Then, in a flash, they all retract into a tiny white dot once again. After a moment, it fades into the darkness. There’s a shimmer as words begin to form in the darkness, dark gray then slowly brightening until they are silver.

  Pangea Online

  The World is Yours

  The words fade, and hundreds of rectangles form across the screen, each one filled with videos playing simultaneously. A flash of green catches my eye and I notice one of them is a clip of me from the Developer’s Tournament. I’m standing next to Aleesia as a giant tornado of fire rips through Ryken. Each clip must be from a tournament winner.

  A speeding motorcycle overtakes another at the last second before crossing the finish line. A tennis champion lifts a trophy. A woman wearing a jetpack holds a ray gun in one hand and tosses a ball at a large net hundreds of feet off the ground. A lone minotaur stands atop a hill surrounded by the bodies of his enemies.

  This time, when the screen changes, Benjamin smiles at the camera. He is as polished as ever, wearing a black suit and not a strand of hair out of place.

  “Hello, I am Benjamin, President of Pangea Online, and welcome to the first ever Pro-Am Tournament. If you looked closely, you may have noticed some of the winners of past tournaments in the intro clip. No need to fear though, you’ll be introduced to all of our two-hundred and fifty champions over the course of the day, along with their apprentices. The apprentices will be competing for a chance at an internship at Pangea Online Headquarters. But it wouldn’t be fair to leave out the champions, now would it?” Benjamin winks at the camera. “The pro who takes home the trophy will be winning a donation of one hundred thousand to the charity of their choice. Now, without further ado, let’s send you over to Nancy, head of Pangea’s tournament division. She’ll be introducing you to our contestants, starting in alphabetical order with Annabelle Akron and her apprentice Kirsten Hoffman.”

  I take a deep breath. If they are going in alphabetical order, then we should be up soon.

  Just as I suspect, I receive a notification telling me to prepare ourselves, because we’re up next.

  Benjamin vanishes and the screen splits in half. On one side is Nancy, who hosted my own tournament. She’s a valkyrie, wearing shimmering silver armor. Her blond hair dangles from the sides of a winged helmet. I remember her riding a pegasus through the air before stage two of the tournament.

  On the other screen, two women sit inside a room full of pink and neon green lights. Graffiti covers the wall behind them, depicting a crown and a dagger. The women could pass for sisters, and I’m not sure which is the champion. They both have black hair, pink skin, bangs that cover their eyes, and a face full of piercings.

  Nancy smiles for the camera. “Annabelle won the most recent Brawl Busters tournament. Check out her amazing combo that took home the trophy.”

  We zoom in on a fighting arena in the center of lush forest. Annabelle wears black boots, tight jeans, and a leather jacket. She twirls a chain as she faces off against a woman in tights with legs so thick, they look like they could crush watermelons. Their health bars and ki bars are at the top of the screen, both HP bars nearly depleted for each fighter.

  The woman in tights lunges for Annabelle, but she jumps at the last second, leaving the woman grasping at air. She flips over the woman’s back and performs a leg sweep, knocking her on her back. The kick moves her ki bar to full and it pulses with energy. Annabelle leaps into the air and spreads her arms wide, a swarm of missiles shooting in from off screen.

  “KO” flashes across the screen, and Annabelle raises her fist into the air in celebration.

  “Quite the tactical performance, Annabelle. Do you have any words for the viewers at home?”

  She looks into the camera, her face showing no trace of joy or excitement. “Kirsten and I are here to win. By any means necessary.”

  Dean laughs and looks at me. “This has got to be some sort of show for the cameras, right?”

  I shrug. “You never know. For some of these people, they live and breathe these tournaments.

  “…and next up, is Esil Allen and his apprentice Dean Wilmington.”

  While Nancy introduces me and goes over my highlights, I receive a request to join the video chat. The next thing I know, Dean and I are on the split-screen with Nancy.

  She smiles at the camera. “Now, if this isn’t a great story, I don’t know what is. We all remember Esil’s rise to fame during the Developer’s Tournament, when it was revealed that he was in fact the son of deceased developer Howard Allen who had somehow found himself growing up in an orphanage in The Boxes. Esil has spent the past year working at Pangea Headquarters, but he never forgot where he came from. His apprentice is a young man by the name of Dean, an orphan at the very same group home where Esil grew up. So tell me, Esil, what made you want to partner up with someone from The Boxes for this tournament?”

  There’s something about the way she harps on and on about the orphanage and The Boxes that rubs me the wrong way. Like they’re using my story, and now Dean’s, for ratings. Well, if they’re going to use us, then I’ll make sure to use them too.

  I don’t smile when I answer. I look directly into the camera without blinking. “Because who else would?”

  She stutters for a moment, caught off guard. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I had no intention of entering a public tournament ever again. Dean reached out to countless champions, asking for them to take a chance on him. Do you know how many even so much as offered to meet him? Zero. But here’s the thing, Nancy. We’re not just some sob story for people to rally behind. We’re real people stuck in a place that most of you couldn’t even dream of. Real people with dreams and talents and skills that this world could use. We could do so much more than mine and die while living in a metal box. Dean has ambition, and he has skills that some of these champions wish they had. So, you want to know why I partnered up with Dean? It’s because I’ll be damned if he doesn’t get his chance.”

  I cut the feed, and half of the display goes black. I don’t know why I’m so angry, but I start pacing across the room. Fenrir raises his head, watching me before letting it fall back to the floor.

  Nancy looks stunned for a moment before regaining her composure. “Well, there you have it, folks. Esil Allen and his apprentice are sure to shake things up once again.”

  She introduces the next champion, a gnome who wields a battle-axe twice the size of his body, but I shut off the display and it retracts into the ceiling.

  “Hey, I was watching that!” Dean objects. “And thanks for letting me speak.”

  I turn around, ready to snap. “You don’t get it—”

  Dean’s death stare has me swallowing my words.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve made a better life for myself, but it’s still raw at times. It’s like anytime we do anything worth notice, it’s not about the act itself. It’s about someone from The Boxes doing it. This was supposed to be your day, your tournament, and I made it about me. It was wrong of me to take away your moment to speak for yourself.”

  His face softens. “You know your little outburst is only going to have more people watching us, right?”

  I sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “You might be a drama queen,” Dean laughs, “but if it gets people to notice me, then maybe my only way out of The Boxes won’t be by winning.”

  “But you’re still gonna give it your all, right?”

  He looks offended that I even asked. “What is it that Grayson said? That sometimes those of us in The Boxes only get one chance, if
that. You think I’m gonna waste that because you don’t know when to shut up?”

  I gently shove him in the shoulder. “Easy there, I’m still your mentor.”

  “Glad to hear it. Now, do you mind if we watch some of the other challengers? I, for one, would like to know what we are up against.”

  I turn the display back on just as a vampire explodes into a swarm of bats. A bolt of lightning crashes into the spot where the vampire once stood, scorching the earth. A second later, the bats rush back together and the vampire forms once again, just in time to pull a sword stabbed in the earth. “Victor” flashes across the screen before it shifts back to Nancy.

  “Quite a narrow victory for Lyle Hagan, but impressive ingenuity nonetheless.”

  Lyle’s home portal mimics an ancient castle. Stone walls surround him, lit by flickering candles and adorned with oil paints of him in various poses. His skin is a pasty white and his black hair is slicked back. He wears Victorian-era garb complete with ruffles and a tailcoat. When he smiles, his incisors jut down farther than the rest of his teeth.

  Next to him stands a young woman wearing a red corset with silver clasps across the front. Her curly brunette hair drapes over her shoulders, and a silver dagger hangs from her waist. Her gaze is fixed as she stares at the camera.

  I can’t help but laugh at the notion of a vampire and a vampire hunter teaming up together.

  “How did you decide to take on Aliya as your apprentice?” asks Nancy.

  Lyle smirks at the camera before answering. His red pupils pulse in an eerie way. “I had a little tournament of my own. I invited anyone on Darkwood to travel to the Village of the Night. I offered to mentor the first eligible person to kill me. It took her a week, but Aliya here finally got the job done.”

  Over the next few hours, I learn about more champions than I ever cared to. Human is by far the most common race for avatars, but we see a fair amount of fantasy and sci-fi races, even a few robots and cyborgs.

  Dean and I are still laughing at a rainbow-colored clown that managed to win a racing tournament driving a tiny car, and his apprentice, a pink unicorn centaur, when the next challenger is announced.

  The camera pans over a vast valley that stretches before a castle. A dark cloud of smoke moves across the landscape, and a thunderous roar emanates from within. Several hundred yards away, an army stands in position outside of a medieval city. Blue banners wave in the wind. Rows of knights are positioned at the front, followed by those on foot. Drums of war compete against the oncoming thunderous cloud.

  As the cloud of darkness travels toward the army like a sandstorm of death, it leaves a trail of decay in its wake. The green fields are left blackened and charred, as if every bit of life had been ripped from the soil.

  The knights charge into battle, vanishing in the depths of the cloud. Amidst the crack of thunder, a buzzing fills the air. The soldiers press on, but some on the back lines turn and run.

  As more and more soldiers rush into the darkness, it pulses with dark energy, growing in size.

  The hair on my neck stands up as I realize what has happened. The gates to the kingdom are closed, preventing the turncoats’ retreat, and the darkness swallows them as well.

  The buzzing and crackling fades, and the cloud begins to disperse, revealing an undead army of thousands upon thousands. A chasm forms in the center, and a small speck of orange moves through. The camera zooms in, revealing a black horse with a fiery mane, tail, and hooves. A nightmare. Fire explodes from its nostrils as it neighs. Upon its back sits a behemoth of a man wearing heavy black armor. The ominous armor has skull pauldrons and a breastplate engraved with two skulls facing each other. A helm with two horns that curl around the side conceals the rider’s face, but I would never forget this armor, not in a million years. Two orange eyes glow brightly beneath the helm. Skeletal fingers hold the reins in one hand and the other holds a broadsword that nearly touches the ground.

  Dean sits on the edge of his seat, watching the action unfold.

  The image splits to one side of the screen as the castle gates open.

  Nancy grins at the camera. “And there you have it folks, our next challenger needs no introduction, but he’ll get one anyways. He’s won more tournaments this year than any other challenger. And in the clip you just witnessed, Ryken became the first player to overtake the Valmar Kingdom without forging a single alliance. Here’s Pangea’s very own Ryken “The Black Death” Tanaka and his apprentice, Dawn Warren.”

  Ryken and his army of death fades away, replaced by the death knight sitting on a throne in his home portal. The throne is as black as night, carved from obsidian. A row of skulls with jeweled eyes top the backrest, the eyes glimmering in the light of the candle chandelier above.

  I roll my eyes. Of course he has a throne. He fancies himself as the greatest player to ever grace Pangea.

  Dawn sits at his feet, clad in black armor in the same style as her mentor. Hers is more ornately designed, with black roses on the pauldrons and two foxes facing one another on the breastplate. A helm with a thin slit in the eyes sits at her feet, a black feather protruding from the top. If not for the fact that we knew she was a woman, one could never tell by the armor alone.

  They’re a far cry from the cowboy clothing we last faced them in. I’m sure part of the reason for Ryken’s success is the intimidation his look and class bring.

  Ryken’s eyes glow a menacing orange as he stares at the camera.

  “Well, Ryken, you’re one of the most popular streamers around and a favorite to win the tournament. Do you have anything to say to the people watching at home?”

  He clenches his hand into a fist and leans forward. When he speaks, his voice is deep and cavernous, like it’s bouncing off the walls of a cave. “Enjoy the show. We’re here to win, and I will take out anyone who stands in our way.”

  “And what about you, Dawn? Any words for those watching?”

  She smirks as her gaze finds the camera. “I prefer to let my actions do the talking.”

  “Gah, these two are annoying,” Dean grumbles. “I hope I get a chance to shoot them all over again.”

  I can’t help but laugh. For whatever reason, Ryken is a popular streamer, but he has a certain unlikable quality about him that I just can’t get over. Is it sullied by our first encounter? Maybe. But truth be told, the guy is a bully and a giant dick.

  Maybe his followers use him as some kind of wish-fulfillment fantasy as he travels from world to world, destroying everything in his path and winning tournaments, but with an attitude like that, I very much doubt they would like him if they actually met him.

  As I stew on my disdain for Ryken, Nancy interviews the next challenger. Her home portal is filled with plants and tree limbs that stretch from one end of the portal to the other. Large jungle cats perch on its branches. A dark-skinned woman sits on one of the branches, gently stroking a large jaguar.

  Dreadlocks drape down the side of her face, and she wears a very simple outfit of tan cloth. Golden arm bangles wrap around her biceps, but aside from that, she is very rustic and plain. Yet there is an intensity that burns in her eyes. An intensity that I’ve seen before.

  “Wait!” I say to myself more than anything. “Is that Talia?”

  “Who?” asks Dean.

  “I used to play Team Deathmatch with her on Spaceworld. And she helped Buzz with a quest that allowed him to upgrade his chicken farm. She always wore the advanced spacesuits back then. I never would have expected her home portal to look like this.”

  Dean squints as he examines her before shrugging.

  On the other side of the jaguar, a shirtless young man with an afro looks uncomfortable as he stares at the camera. He fidgets with his thumbs, before fixing his gaze on his dangling feet.

  “Talia Tate,” Nancy begins. “I think I speak for everyone when I say this is not the portal I envisioned for the reigning champion of Spaceworld Solo Deathmatch.”

  She sits up straight and winks at
the camera. “You know what they say, Nancy. You can’t judge a book by its cover.”

  Nancy laughs. “Very true. Now tell us about your apprentice, Chadwick Tate.”

  Chadwick looks up once again, his eyes wide.

  “Chadwick is my brother, if you couldn’t tell by our last names. We aim to show the power of family pride to all of Pangea.”

  They both form their arms in an X and tap them twice against their chest. Chadwick suddenly looks a little more relaxed.

  I turn to Dean while Nancy continues the interview. “This is good. We’ll at least have one other friend to lean on during the early stages of the tournament.”

  He cocks an eyebrow. “You sure about that? I wouldn’t trust anyone but my partner in a tournament like this.”

  I understand his hesitation, especially considering his upbringing. “We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust people. Talia is a good friend. And she’s one of the most honorable people I know.”

  “If you say so.”

  By the time the interviews are over, it’s nearly 8pm. After watching Talia’s interview, Dean and I played ping pong and foosball for most of the remainder. I hope I never have to sit through something so boring ever again.

  After the last interview is completed, Nancy sends the broadcast back to Benjamin.

  “There you have it, folks. The complete list of challengers in the Pro-Am Tournament. I hope you’re as excited as I am to watch these titans compete against one another. As much fun as it was to get to know the competitors and newcomers, I’m sure you’re dying to know about the stages. To keep the tournament as fair as possible, we’ve decided not to announce the stages ahead of time. Each stage will be revealed at the moment all five hundred players enter the portal.” He pauses for a moment, letting the words sink in. “How’s that for a game changer? What I can tell you is this—there will be three stages, and one of them will be unlike anything you have ever witnessed. As for the first stage, I see no need to wait a week for the action to start. Competitors, be in your home portal at eight a.m. tomorrow morning. All weapons, items, levels, and abilities will be stripped from your avatar upon entering the gameworld, so bring your wits and determination, for that is what you’ll need to win.”