Damn it!

Peter lay in the red mist of the death display and fumed.

It happened to everyone of course, but it had been a long, long time since he had woken up in the medical bay at home. It was a point of pride for him. Everyone else got taken out on a raid now and then, and even a fully equipped level 90 wasn’t immune.

But I’m as close as anyone to freaking deathproof.

There was something doubly insulting about winding up in a medical bed for him, of course. It was one of the things that had pushed him from early on to be better - more careful, more informed, more stealthy - than anyone else.

What really hurt was the stupidly random nature of the whole thing. Apart from that Aberrant, there hadn’t been a single mob there who should have been able to touch him. That mine was way too high-level for them, so it must have been just bad luck. He hadn’t seen a blip on his HUD. Not a thing.

It had to be bad luck. The Horde are basically animals, they don’t lure players into traps.

But why hadn’t his gear picked anything up at all? That didn’t make sense… unless.

That had to be it. They had been just five kilometers from the edge of the Nexus itself. Somehow everyone had missed a piece of Transcendent-Level tech. It was literally the only thing that had a hope of sneaking past the systems on his suit. Stumbling into the pit had been just a stupid accident. There’s no way Horde filth could set up a trap - and not with something like that.

If he’d had a chance he might have been able to get an engineer out to try defusing the thing. It would have been worth a fortune.

I need to get a decent party together and do a deep search up there again.

You never knew what else might be lying around undiscovered.

T-level tech was mysterious stuff. The lore behind it was sketchy, but it was special. The other finds he knew about were all located closer to the Nexus. Transcendent tech gear was massively better than any other pre-war gear and always had some kind of unique bonus effect tied to it. One item - any item at all - could easily buy a player their own mansion.

And if there’s anything else there it’s going to be mine. All mine.

That much at least he could salvage out of the clusterfuck he’d just been part of.

The wipe meant the party was dissolved of course. His three clients would all be raising in their communal medical bays somewhere out in the wilderness by now. He needed to prioritize damage control. Losing a whole party and then having them watch him get killed was just bad press all around.

He had to offer them something really nice to make up for it. It’s not like he was hurting for gear. He could afford to give each of them something special, then take them out again and do it properly this time.

The mist finally thinned out and he got ready to start barking orders at his house system as soon as he could jump out of bed.

But instead seeing familiar walls, he was staring up at a dull grey ceiling.

What gives?

This was not normal. He sat up with a jolt and looked around. He was in a room with no doors or windows. It was all dull concrete, floor to ceiling. Apart from his bed there were only two gray metal folding chairs, facing each other near the opposite wall.

“Where the hell am I?” he said out loud. The sound of his voice echoed strangely.

He gestured up his command panel.

What the...

He suddenly felt a streak of fear.

Everything was gone. All his customization. His macros. Everything!

The panel in front of him was the new player default. He hadn’t seen it in ages. His configuration alone represented hours and hours of work. He barely had to think about what he wanted to do. A quick voice command, a couple of gestures, and he could do anything from upgrading a weapon to making tactical orders to a party. Being without it made him feel naked.

But more to the point, what did it mean? He’d never, ever encountered this before. He looked down at his body. Just a plain gray tunic and pants. Scrub-level newb gear.

Had his account been reset? He flicked through the menus to bring up support. He knew for a damn fact that his subscription was solid. It’s not like he had anything else to spend money on.

This has to be a glitch.

He just needed to get customer support on it. But he hoped it wouldn’t take too long. Everyone else was up again by now. He needed to get in touch with them. He made a mental note to have a serious talk with the Brawler about staying with the group.

When he flicked the customer support icon he was greeted with a desultory bleep and a red X.

Great, this just gets better and better.

He was starting to get legitimately nervous. What if something was genuinely borked with his account or his hardware? It’s not like he had anything much to do if he had to log out entirely for hours.

Or days.

God forbid. I need to get this fixed.

At least the diagnostics still ran. He set it for a full software and hardware scan, then brought up an email screen.

Email. I might as well send frigging smoke signals.

But part of him wanted to see if even that was broken. He really hoped not.

He started typing out his situation, trying to stay calm.

“Mister Phillips,” said a voice.

Peter’s head jerked up.

A man was standing at the foot of his bed. He was dressed like a regular IRL office guy - business casual, short hair, no tattoos or body tech. He had a serious face and serious dark glasses.

And he knew Peter’s real name.

“Are you from Customer Support?” Peter said.

The man nodded very slightly.

“I’m from Axiom,” he said. “Please don’t worry, I promise you that you’re safe.”

A wave of relief flooded through Peter’s body. He hadn’t even realized how tense he’d been until that moment.

“What’s happened?” he said. “I can’t access anything. My menu is all messed up.”

“Sorry if we worried you,” the man said. He went over and sat down with a creak on one of the folding chairs. “All your customization is archived. There’s no cause for concern.”

Peter sat up and swung his legs down onto the floor. He hadn’t had to deal with regular people in a real life context for a long time. His mind scrambled for the right way of behaving. No bluster or threats meant anything here. His rank was just a couple of digits to this guy.

I’m getting out of practice at this.

He should probably do something about that.

“Um, thanks,” he said. “Is there a problem with my account?”

The man waved it away.

“Not at all! My name is Paul Weller, I’m VP of Interactive Content at Axiom. I wanted to have a chat with you. Please, have a seat.”

He gestured at the other chair.

VPIC!

This guy was a legitimate suit. Peter must have seen pictures of Weller at Cons or launches, but he couldn’t place the name or the face at all.

He sat down. What else was he going to do?

“I’ll come right to the point, Mr. Phillips,” he said. “We’re rolling out a new feature, and we’re looking for the right kind of player to be part of that process.”

Peter wasn’t even sure what to say. This was a legendary-tier opportunity. All the in-game rewards in the world couldn’t compare to being tagged by Axiom to be the player side of a major feature launch. Nothing else in-game could compete. It would cement him as top tier. He’d be in demand.

No more grovelling on newb chat for clients.

The back of his mind was already calculating what he needed for a major expansion to his home. He could have a multistory mansion. With a view! And a real workshop, not just a corner full of benches. And a real office.

“I… I’m speechless,” he said. He needed to lock this down, and keeping Weller happy was obviously job number one. “I’d be honored to participate.”

Weller smiled.

“Well that’s great,” he said. “But you might want to hear me out first.”

“Okay, but I can’t imagine any reason I’d say no.”

Weller’s face was dead serious.

“Then let me lay a few out for you,” he said.

“Um… okay.”

“Number one, you will lose your current account ID. You’ll disappear from the game entirely.”

“Really? Is that actually required?”

Weller’s frown was definitive.

“It is.”

Peter suddenly had an impression of what this guy might be like in actual office politics. He was the real life equivalent of a high level player. The look on Weller’s face sent a chill through him, and he had no doubt at all that he needed to take him seriously.

“Well, supposing I still say yes, what else?”

He needed to hear the upside to such a big sacrifice. There must be one.

Weller nodded.

“Number two, get used to your default interface, because that’s all you’ll see for a while. You’ll have a total reset. You’ll lose all your bonuses and buffs. Plus all of your experience.”

“I don’t get to keep anything?”

“Not one thing. You’ll be level 1 again. No inventory. Nada.”

That was literally years of work gone. So many hours, so much grinding. He had even had a unique ability - Thousand Yard Ear. As far as he knew the game record was three. He’d be letting go of some real status with that. He didn’t even want to think about how much work he’d be throwing away.

“That’s pretty harsh,” he said. “Why such stringent conditions?”

“I’m not done,” Weller said. “Number three, you won’t be able to tell anyone what’s going on. Like I said, your original account will be closed, and it will appear that you have unsubscribed. But on top of that nobody is allowed to know about this. You can’t brag about it.”

In game, fine. Can’t stop me from telling people about it offline.

“But…”

“No,” Weller interrupted him as if he’d seen Peter’s thoughts. “You know what an NDA is?”

“Non-disclosure agreement,” Peter said. “It means I can’t tell anyone about what’s going on or else I’ll get sued or something.”

“Or something,” Weller said. “Including permanent closure of all accounts and a full ban. The legal department puts together some fairly drastic clauses. You’ll have a chance to review them.”

“Yikes. So what do I get for such a sacrifice?”

“Like I said, you’ll be a critical player component of a new feature that we’re planning to implement. We went through all of the logs and you’re in a class with very few others in terms of your in-game experience.”

That buffed his pride just a bit. It’s not like he had much choice of course, but he wasn’t going to make an issue of it.

“Thanks. Is that all though?”

“Based on your experience I don’t think you’ll have much problem getting leveled up and running your own… organization. But you’ll be at the top of the ladder. One of the first players in the new expansion.”

“So there’s other players already involved?”

Weller put a finger to his lips.

“We haven’t signed anything at this point, so I can’t say anything about that.”

Peter sat back in the chair.

Not even user number one. Meh.

“But I’d have to start all over again just the same.”

“There will be real-life compensation involved. We don’t expect you to do this for nothing. You’d be signed on as an Axiom contracter. Your subscription comped permanently. Plus an honorarium for your technical work on the rollout. We’re thinking a $75,000 payout at a one-year term.”

Money. Great. I’m sure that will come in handy.

“But you can’t tell me what I’d actually be doing?”

“Not without your full signoff on the agreement. But it’s unique. It’s going to add a major new component to gameplay. You’ll be able to affect the world in ways you never could before.”

“Really brand new? Not some lame new armor or trading system?”

Weller smirked at him.

“No, I think it will be a lot better than that. In fact I’m confident that it will change the game permanently. We’ll probably have to retcon the lore to accommodate everything, honestly.”

“And all I have to do is sign on the dotted line?”

“Pretty much. We can get you started right away. Though you should be prepared to spend some time stumbling around and getting your bearings.”

“What if I don’t want to do it after all?”

Weller shrugged.

“If you say no, we still don’t want you talking about this. We’re prepared to offer you some fairly nice bonuses in exchange for an NDA on that front.”

“And if I just say no, and walk away instead?”

Weller sighed.

“Let’s not have it come to that, okay? We’ll give you some good stuff if you promise not to talk. If you don’t promise, what can I say? It’s probably not the wisest decision.”

“Is that a threat?”

Weller shook his head.

“Of course not! This is a serious professional offer. I’m just advising you to make a decision that’s obviously to your own benefit.”

But not a muscle moved in his face and he was staring at Peter like a lion watching a lame gazelle.

Which isn’t really far off from the truth. I need to step carefully.

He felt like some of his in-game senses were working again. He was faced with an overpowered boss. He needed to use his own resources to come away with something to show for it apart from getting one-shotted. Fair didn’t enter into the equation.

He needed to weigh this carefully. He closed his eyes and focused.

So here it is. Total reset to a new class of player, lose all my stuff, build up from zero all over again.

On the positive side, no subscription again ever. Plus some extra cash. Whoopee. A contractor relationship with Axiom. That could be interesting. Or constricting.

Negatives? My personal status bump never happens. Can never happen, not with my old account. Nobody knows. And I lose everything for the chance to get in early - but apparently not first - on something new.

On the other hand, I pretend we never had this talk and I get some freebies for keeping my mouth shut.

There was only one sensible answer.

He opened his eyes. Weller was still watching him carefully.

“Look,” he said. “I appreciate…”

Weller held up his hand.

“One more thing. And honestly it’s the main thing.”

I feel like I’m bartering with a Merchant.

Which he was, of course.

“I’m just not sure if it’s for me,” Peter said.

Weller’s eyes narrowed.

“This last part might be. We do our research on people before we make offers. It’s pretty important that we know who we’re dealing with. I’m sure you understand.”

Peter’s face froze.

“And?” he said. But he didn’t have any doubt. They knew. It was the one thing he tried to keep away from his online life. One place he didn’t have to think about it.

“We have people who find things out for us. Scouts, basically. We can’t just walk into business situations blind. That’s bad tactics, no?”

“Right,” Peter said. He felt sick. Violated.

Weller frowned at him.

“It’s not like we couldn’t guess, anyway. There aren’t many other reasons for being continuously online to the extent your logs indicate. I’m sorry about your situation Peter. Honestly. It’s awful.”

Peter couldn’t tell if the look of sympathy on Weller’s face had any connection with reality. But he didn’t care. A dark anger was rising up inside of him.

“You should probably send me back right now,” he said coldly. “I’ll sign your NDA or whatever. But we should do it right away, before I tell you to go fuck yourself.”

Weller sighed.

“I have a son,” he said. “Believe it or not, I’m actually sympathetic. If I imagine him in the same position…”

He shook his head and looked up at Peter with a different expression.

“Hear me out, please. Axiom is part of a larger corporate family. Which includes a pharma group in China. We took this to the board, Peter. There’s a new suite of stem cell treatments just coming online. Neural, skin, musculature, optics, everything. Full regeneration. We can get you into a clinic. The baseline cost to the corp is actually pretty small.”

Peter stared at him.

“Once the ramp-up is done and everything is working in the game, we’ll have you flown to Shenzhen. They’ll give you the full series. At the end of a one year commitment, same as the contract payout.”

Peter was torn between wanting to punch Weller in the face for having the gall to bring this up - to spy on him and just start talking about this like he had a right - and a sudden surge of emotion that he couldn’t place at first. Until he realized it was hope.

He balled his hands up into fists.

“If you’re fucking with me...” he growled. He didn’t know how to end that sentence. There wasn’t anything he could actually do to Weller. Not here, and certainly not in real life.

Weller sighed again and put his hand out, laying it on Peter’s shoulder. Peter flinched away from the contact.

“I’m not,” he said quietly. “We will get you the full series. You can have your body back.”

A long window filled with legal text appeared in front of him. There was a field at the bottom for him to acknowledge his acceptance.

“Normally we’d go for a full real life signature, but I’m sure you’re well aware of the provisions for patients in your situation.”

“Can’t sign anything without arms anyway, so yeah,” Peter said bitterly.

Weller nodded.

“You should read through this all carefully. I can give you as long as you like. Your account is locked to this room until you decide one way or another though, so you won’t be able to go anywhere else in game until this is resolved.”

“Anything you haven’t mentioned so far?”

“NDA, game reset, just like I said. But we will require access to your medical records and a signoff to provide you with some upgraded gear. Various medical provisions. There’s a certain amount of liability involved in dealing with someone in your situation. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

They just didn’t let up. Suddenly Axiom was going to know everything about him?

“My medical records?”

“Because of the gear. We need to know about the current condition of your body and how that might affect things.”

“I’m a crispy critter, okay? Armless, legless, all scar tissue. No eyes. One ear kind of works. It’s a minor miracle that the game hardware works for me. There anything else you need?”

Weller sighed.

“We have medical professionals who are ready to set you up with the upgraded gear, Peter. Nobody else will know anything about this. We will take care of everything with the staff at your facility. Everything about you and your situation becomes confidential Axiom information. I swear.”

He stared at the form, trying to read it carefully, but his mind kept skipping away and back to the idea of actual real-world help. One day, they’d told him. One day it will be possible. He’d always suspected they were hoping it was true just as much as he was.

As far as he could tell the agreement was just what Weller had said, but in legalese. It was very long.

“What’s the upgrade?” he said. It was easier to focus on the game specifics.

Weller looked like he wasn’t listening to Peter at all, but then he snapped his attention back.

“Oh, all our latest hardware updates. You’re getting the good stuff. We need to test this out with an optimal configuration for now. Consider it a bonus.”

“Lucky me,” Peter said.

“Can I ask you a question?” Weller said.

“I guess so.”

“You’re locked out of the real world through no fault of your own. Nobody questions why you’re living online. But you aren’t in a guild. Pretty short friends list. You run a solo business training new players.”

“And?”

“It seems strange is all.”

“I tried a few guilds. All the drama just isn’t for me.”

“It’s just something I didn’t really understand. Your progress has been a lot slower than someone in a regular guild. You know as well as I do the kinds of bonuses you’re not getting.”

Peter sighed.

“I like a challenge. This is a business discussion, yeah? Can we keep my personal life out of it?”

Weller looked like he wanted to say more, but he nodded.

“Fair enough. Do you want to have some time to think about it? Log out, and we can meet here again tomorrow?”

It’s not like I really have a choice. What’s the alternative? Stay online forever, and maybe one day another chance like this will come along?

It was a roll of the dice.

He shook his head.

“No point. What else am I supposed to do?” he said.

“You’re willing to be part of this program?”

Peter nodded.

“I’m in. I’m your man. Sign me up.”

Weller leaned in.

“It’s the right call, Peter. I’m glad you’re willing to work with us.”

Peter typed his name on the dotted line.

Weller stood up the second he was done.

“Outstanding! Thank you again Peter. I’ll be in touch.”

“In touch? What about…”

Weller vanished without another word.

“Wait, come back!” Peter yelled at the walls.

Then the room vanished.

There was a low throbbing sound, and he floated in darkness listening to it.

What the hell? This is the part where you give me the details!

There was nobody to complain at though, just the throbbing dark. He still had a basic HUD with user controls, at least.

It was not an auspicious start. He decided he would just log out and get in touch with Axiom from home.

He had a nice enough little home space organized - it was one of the first things Ken the Therapist at Holy Family had helped him with. From what he could tell the actual facility was a bog-standard, slightly run down extended care place. But of course that was completely irrelevant online.

The government server provided him with full somatics and environmental simulation. It was all state of the art for locked-in patients like him. If he couldn’t have the real world, they were willing to provide him with a pretty nice fantasy. He had to give them that much.

It was a little cabin in the mountains, near a lake full of fish. Birds and deer all over. He could hike for miles in any direction, go horseback riding, skiing, swimming, jogging, and any other approved therapeutic activity that some committee somewhere had agreed on.

It was nice enough really, but it had taken about two months before he started to go batshit insane. Convincing the administration - and his caseworker - to divert some of his monthlies towards a game subscription had taken weeks. It had involved an actual god damned IRL meeting that he had to attend by teleconference.

But in the end he got his way.

It’s not like his assigned home was such a terrible place, but he needed to interact with real people; people who had bad attitudes and irritating personalities, mainly as a relief from all the approved supportive therapy and relentlessly upbeat therapist chatter. Therapy which was designed by people who had no idea - no idea at all - what it meant to be permanently divorced from the world and from any realistic hope for a future.

Technically it was still possible for him to get work - he was the ultimate telecommuter after all - but nobody seemed to have the heart to tell him to go find a damn job. He’d never dreamed of being an office drone to begin with, and he sure as shit wasn’t going to be a telecommuting firefighter. Even his case worker eventually had trouble finding reasons for him not to spend all of his time in-game.

But in the end, most of all, it had made him into one less item on the list of things they had to worry about every day, so they quietly bumped him down to background priority and mainly left him alone. To his endless relief.

So now he could go home and sit on his couch, read the forums, and send Axiom a nasty message to get back to him before he decided he’d been misled into signing a contract he didn’t understand. Maybe even taken advantage of big a heartless big corp! In his case there were a million ways to work the that angle, really.

He flicked the logout. Nothing happened.

He checked everything, did another reset, and tried again. Nothing.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

How was it even possible to prevent him from logging out? Axiom was just asking for trouble.

He sent another email, carefully and politely worded, to Axiom support asking that they please resolve whatever the hell was going on without any delay. It disappeared into the ether without fanfare.

He was trapped. This was a first. He poked around with the interface to no effect for a long time, and eventually gave up.

He floated in the darkness.

It went on for what seemed like hours. Nothing moved, and there was no light.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

He was wishing he’d actually spent more time reading the agreement they’d given to him.

Can’t say they didn’t offer me the chance.

Then without warning he was sitting on his ass in a square full of broken concrete and rusted metal.

He looked around, and knew the place instantly. The greenish glow in the sky, and the towering skeletons of skyscrapers made it obvious that he was somewhere close to the Nexus. Probably farther in than he had ever been before.

The Nexus? If I’m starting level again then why am I here?

But with one look down at the ground and at his skinny legs, drooping skin, and ragged clothes, he knew exactly why he was there.

A ghoul. I’m a damn ghoul.

“Perfect,” he muttered. “Just perfect.”

The crunching of footsteps on broken glass behind him sent a chill down his spine.

And I’m going to get killed in the first thirty seconds. I wonder if I just rez back here?

He turned to look, and a towering Hunter ghoul was staring down at him. He would have needed a whole party of high-level players to take it on. But here he was all on his lonesome. The creature outleveled him to an absurd extent. The thing’s eyes glowed, and it had talons as long as Peter’s entire hand.

But it didn’t attack. Instead it just cocked its head and gave him a lopsided grin.

“Just like I thought,” it rasped, and then made a gurgling, chuckling noise.

“You screwed up bigtime kid,” it said. “Welcome to hell.”