Polymath Redux

Chapter 2//The future of the one named ‘Mordred’

‘Hellgana Online’.

It was never a particularly famous game, nor was it properly balanced. With a continuously dwindling player population it often struggled to justify its existence with each passing month. While nothing about the game was outstanding, there was a unique gimmick it used to draw players when it first launched.

A ‘classless’ system, or more aptly, a ‘boundary-less’ class system. Meaning, while it did technically possess the standard profession mechanics, there were no strict barriers of entry between each. Players were free to learn skills and spells from any of the existing ten classes and customize their character builds however they pleased. A ‘Knight’ could easily pick up a wand and start conjuring magic spells from the ‘Magician’ class or use a bow to become a temporary ‘Archer’. Conversely, they could simply opt to focus on one class and branch out only after achieving max level. Though, as with any other game, there were always ways to ‘min-max’ and customize for the most effective and efficient damage.

Each class contained a level ceiling of 200. Upon reaching the level cap players were then given a lengthy and difficult quest to obtain what was known as an ‘Ultimate’ skill.

The various classes were categorized into:

Alchemist Archer Magician Necromancer Cleric Knight Berserker Puppeteer Bard Assassin

That said, if a player managed to obtain all skills and reach the maximum level of 2000, a secret 11th class known as the ‘Demi-God’ would become available. It was a class so incredibly rare that only five players in the game’s history had managed to unlock it. Yet, reaching level 2000 was only the prerequisite. An arduous and extremely cryptic quest had to be cleared, but even if a player somehow managed to beat the quest, an exorbitant amount of in-game currency had to be pledged on top of all that.

To those five players who had reached the pinnacle of the game, they were granted a special title by the player population. They were known as the ‘Polymath’s.

And the strongest of them all: ‘Mordred’.

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“I think that’s enough excitement for one day,” a certain young man spoke to himself as he logged off from his online game. He sat quietly contemplating before his desk, staring blankly at the log-in screen and sighed. “The top… is it?” the moment he cleared the hardest dungeon- known to be impossible- there was an unbelievable sense of emptiness and boredom. What was he supposed to do now? He never really had many friends and much preferred playing solo. The few friends that he did possess had all quit the game a long time ago. ‘I guess that’s why they all left,’ he finally realized what they had seen long before. A wry smile drew across his face as memories of his Polymath peers echoed in his mind. They were all members of one guild: ‘Summit’.

Though he wasn’t quite done with the game, it had now dangerously teetered along that line. Even before clearing the final dungeon, for the last few months all he had done was play around in these unofficial ‘player manhunt’ raids. He turned off his monitor and leaned back onto his computer chair. “Haah… I think I’ll take a shower and go to bed.”

Lazily dragging his scrawny and tired body to the shower, warm water ran down his back as he fell into a deep contemplation. “There’s college tomorrow… I’ll probably skip it,” he told himself. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last. “College… my future, huh?” he wondered about it as he stepped out of the shower with still we hair. If it was about what direction he wanted to take his life in, there was one thing he was genuinely interested in. He opened his drawer to take out some clothes, and as he did several business cards fell to the floor from his hasty withdraw. Cards with the names of various professional theatre organizations and talent associations. “I should probably…” but he shook his head.

After he finished getting dressed, he climbed down the stairs to his bleak and empty house. A dimly lit lounge with eerie silence. He made his way over to the answering machine and checked to see if there were any, though there was only one person that came to mind who would send him any message.

Right on point.

“Hello? Is this thing on… Oh, hey! It’s your uncle. You haven’t been answering your phone for a while, so I was getting a bit worried if anything happened. Anyway, I checked past your house earlier today and saw the lights on, which probably means you’re doing fine. Well, I received a call from your school telling me that you’ve been skipping out a lot and that they’re also getting worried. I understand how you are, but I still think it would be a valuable experience for you to attend, else they might resort to holding you back. Other than that, I’m also calling about the Christmas party we’re having soon, and that you should come celebrate with my family. Your cousins said that they wanted to see you as well, so… hope to see you soon, okay? Just… just be careful, all right buddy?”

The young man sighed as he listened. A dry scoff in self-mockery, “sorry uncle, it’s impossible for me after all.”

He felt no enmity towards his uncle and relatives. In fact, he had been extremely grateful that they maintained a cordial relationship with him, however, it was because of that he felt wrong about barging into their happiness. His own parents had passed away from an accident when he was younger, and ever since he had lived on his own not to become a burden to his other relatives. There was no thought to change that lifestyle now.

With just his uncle dropping by a few times a month was nice enough for him.

With a sigh, he checked for more messages but there were none. “Of course not,” he shook his head and retreated to his room to sleep it off. Climbing back up the stairs he noticed a strange light coming from his room.

“Hmm? Did I leave my monitor on?” he wondered to himself but distinctly remembered that he had turned it off. Puzzled by this he rushed back into his room to investigate the matter. The source of the light was indeed his monitor. Strangely, the power button was indicated as ‘off’, but there was a text box at the centre of the screen which read: ‘Welcome to Aria’.

“Welcome to… Aria? What?” he walked forward and turned his monitor back on. “Wait, it was turned off after all, huh?” the message disappeared as he touched the screen. “Is it a virus?” He was no professional programmer, although he did ensure to keep up-to-date with the latest in anti-malware applications and performed regular maintenance. Still, if he couldn’t solve this issue, then he wouldn’t be able to sleep soundly.

A few minutes turned into hours as he checked his computer several times over. “There’s nothing here,” he sighed with frustration. No viruses, no anomalies; his computer showed no indications of slowing down and no files were altered. “Tch,” he clicked his tongue, “just what was it?”

It would’ve actually been better if there had been a virus, at least he would’ve felt better after erasing it. The only thing he found now was a migraine. It aggravated him further that nothing was wrong, but clearly that message was not an illusion. “Dammit!”

He stood up, sweat from anger trickled down the side of his face. Another shower might have been necessary and perhaps a drink to calm him down. Yet as he turned back to do just that the migraine intensified, bringing him down to the floor. On his knees, he held his head in pain and anger as his face turned beet red from all the blood.

“Shit…” it hurt, perhaps more so than actual torture, or at least that’s what it seemed like to him at the moment. It was as though his brain was literally burning up. Unable to endure the pain any further his vision started to fade. Sense eluded him and breathing becoming harder…

Eyelids heavier…

Consciousness waning…