Darius Roth, CEO of Synaptic Entertainment, mused on the afternoon’s events while sipping from his porcelain cup of green tea in his lavish office. Rowan Black and Darius’ apparent second-niece Gabrielle had performed above expectation, far exceeding what anyone had imagined he’d accomplish in his position. The AI controller had been… difficult to work with and control. It had rejected several so-called ‘incompatible’ directives to incorporate Black’s destiny into the game, reasoning they would be too disruptive to the gamespace and clash against existing directives. Fair enough. But alas, when it had accepted a more generalized directive, it had done so quite problematically. The path it set out for the kid was narrow and riddled with hardship, as hard as it could be without verging on impossibility.

Regrettably, the highly generic directive resulted in the predicament the company was currently in: the AI also allowed for player World Bosses other than Black. Gabrielle was the immediate second, and more could follow any day depending on how many the AI judged the gamespace needed. This unforeseen element possibly changed the timeline enough to render the forecasts moot. Granted, they averaged under seventy-percent accuracy. A thirty percent chance of something not happening was substantial. He wouldn’t bet his life with those odds. This present timeline was simply that thirty percent.

No matter. With proper tact, this new development would be twisted to the company’s (and the order’s) advantage. Since Black’s triumph, he’d mulled it over while keeping an eye on the internal and external discussion forums. The employees had been quick to discard their initial panic and see the prospective positives of player World Bosses. As for the players, they’d been slower. The external forums were in an uproar, and emotionally charged support tickets were still being filed. They’d calm down either today or tomorrow or next week, as always.

The next steps to take were clear, but nevertheless, Darius appreciated the input of his lead ‘game designer’ before making a decision, whom he was waiting for this minute.

Soon enough arrived Derek Brown, stomping into the room so boorishly. How this bulkish, gingery-brunette man had been recruited into the order’s lower rungs was an enigma. It didn’t matter—all that mattered was his aptitude for game design, even if he wasn’t designing much. He was more of an analyst and community spokesperson. The players liked a central figurehead with a jolly, enthusiastic attitude as a channel of communication. Darius loathed interacting with the masses so regularly. It was fortunate for Derek that he wasn’t hideous in front of a camera.

Derek plonked onto the leather office chair, then rubbed his hands together under an… energetic smile. “Oh ho ho! We’ve done it this time. You won’t believe how they won at—”

With an almost-glaring look, Darius waved him off. “Please, give me your suggestions on what should be done. Concisely.” But he wasn’t a cruel leader, so he offered him a cup of tea. “Help yourself.”

His demeanor faded by a touch. “Oh, alright.” He drank a sip; he liked the vanilla taste. The cup clinked onto the glass with four drops splashing out. “So. As I see it, we have three options we can take here. The first is to continue as per the plan without alterations. Announce Black is a hacker who bypassed the subscription, and that he activated an experimental feature through an exploit which allowed him to become a boss. We claim any further damage has already been prevented, and then ask players to unite and take him out in-game while we claim to work on a solution to ban him—”

“The second solution?” Darius inwardly sighed. Derek was such a rambler like Vincent, stating things people already knew or didn’t want to know.

“We.” With dramatic eyes, he paused and refilled his tea-cup to the brim. “Delay that and for now...” He drank the whole cup with a single swallow. “Announce that we, meaning the AI, planned for player World Bosses the whole time and this was a surprise!” He banged the cup onto the glass.

Darius was thankful neither the cup nor the table cracked. Such a showman he was. Yes, he was a perfect figurehead, and he could use his brain rather well for that was a plausible temporary solution. Stalling strategies were always useful. “How do you think the playerbase will react to that?”

Derek crossed his arms and laid a thoughtful expression on Darius. “I think they’ll love it.”

“And all the current complaints?”

“About it being unfair?” A bushy eyebrow rose. “Well life is unfair, and we’re aiming for realism. And it can easily be justified by saying only those who’ve worked for it may ever achieve boss status.”

A fair explanation. It could work, except there was one small detail. “Black worked for it? He was but a level one this morning. I recall he had significant help from… Ms. Howe.” He was about to say Ms. Roth but that would’ve been very unwise. Her familial status with inner-circle members was a sensitive topic.

After an elongated, thoughtful pause, Derek stroked his beard.“Yes, I was hoping that it wouldn’t too much of a problem, but if you say it is…” He frowned, lips pinching. “Hmmmmmmmmmm.”

Darius swallowed a chuckle. “Don’t worry, we have all evening to think it through.” He took a sip of tea. “What’s your third solution?”

Derek held a stark gaze for ten seconds, then a low voice he said, “A rollback.”

He couldn’t be serious! “You’re making a joke.” If the AI controller rejected a directive like that (which it most surely would), a manual rollback would take weeks if not months to implement.

“I am not. If the players are unable to accept that a few of them will be far more powerful than the rest, we will have to issue directives to remove player bosses. There’s no other choice.” He helped himself to another cup-full, leaving the pot almost empty. “Mmmm. Good tea.”

Verily it was. The green tea mixed with a hint of vanilla extract and syrup had helped Darius trudge through the most stressful situations, this included. As the company’s chief, it was grueling, highly-demanding work, but he reveled in it. He was born to dictate and lead from the top. He knew that since his college days; team projects without his leadership always ended with sub-par results by his standards. Darius was the perfect man to make sure Aeon Chronicles Online was a viral hit before launch. So, so much was on the line—much more than just a game. Those pods eventually needed to be installed in every household. It was for the masses’ own good.

“So,” Derek said, “what do you think we should do?”

“Option three can’t be allowed,” he said automatically. It was obvious.

“Option two then? I don’t see the original plan working.”

Darius grunted an affirmation. “For now, we should go with a mix of option one and two, stating—”

Quick, uneven footsteps thudded in the corridor. Out of breath, Edgar Wilson rushed into the office with a paper printout in hand. He was a mid-level order member and the lead engineer who’d helped develop the AI technology, and he was rather old fashioned. “There’s an emergency,” he wheezed as he collapsed onto a chair.

“Emergency?” Derek blurted. “Did the server crash? A real hacker?”

Remaining silent, Darius let the man regain his breath. The first thing to do during any emergency was to calm down else irrational, stupid decision could be made.

“Player trapped in a torture chamber.” Edgar shoved the scrunched paper onto the table, and Darius swiped it before Derek. He was a nosy man, but that curiosity which few had was an added value to his character.

The printout was a player-status report generated by the AI, outlining a high level Paladin’s location, character details, physiological status, mental state, and other relevant information. His name was Jonathan Lee, lived not too far from this region of the globe, and by the looks of his two failed subscription payments, he was from a lower class family. Darius skipped the character details, finding the physiological status section labeled as ‘Very healthy’. Technical details were skimmed over by Darius’ trained eyes.

What Edgar was likely alarmed over was the location… and mental status. The location was labeled as ‘Personal Purgatory’, briefly explained as Jonathan’s worst memory replayed ad nauseam. To Darius’ immense, masked shock, it was a memory of Rowan Black murdering Max Dubois. However, Jonathan’s mental status was labeled as ‘Distraught but growing stable and strong’. The technical details section beneath was empty. Just what was happening here? Was the AI psychologically conditioning the kid?

Darius skimmed over the page twice more before handing it to an eager Derek. He’d already been briefed on Rowan’s background, and he was sworn to the order oaths. Any betrayal would result in his immediate disposal.

“Are you certain this is correct?” Darius asked.

Edgar nodded shakily. “Yes, yes, yes. I quadruple checked and checked the system for errors.”

How fascinating. “What do you think—”

“Whoah!” Derek exclaimed, almost jumping from his seat. The primitive paper further scrunched in his outburst; it was unreadable now. “How did this happen? Can he log out?!”

“Yes. He can still log out. Thank god.” Edgar wiped his shiny forehead with a handkerchief.

Darius said, “But the report claimed he’s been logged in since breakfast.”

“Logout functionality is unaffected. I confirmed manually.” Edgar reached for the empty pot.

A bit of good news, Darius allowed. Logout was on a hardware level separate from the AI controller. Multiple software and hardware fail-safes had been implemented, and even if a player was trapped inside, all it would take was a disconnection of electrical power or network availability.

“Wait wait wait,” Derek said incredulously. “It says he sought out a dragon boss and asked for this willingly. This can’t be right.”

“It’s right,” Edgar said, putting down the pot. “I cross-checked with some of his friends’ statuses. The report’s story adds up.”

Darius couldn’t stop a chuckle from bubbling up his lungs. Was he purposefully reciting lines from a crime drama?

Nevermind, that didn’t matter. All that mattered in this minor ‘emergency’ was making sure that Jonathan kid didn’t cause a mass scare among the sheep. Again, too much was on the line for one person to cause a panic. Not a good panic like Rowan was causing. There wasn’t a single way to spin a mental torture prison into something advantageous. People did not want self-harm. Well, most people did not. Most people wanted conflict and an evil figurehead whether it's something minuscule or society-changing. People liked to be right, and for that, someone else had to be wrong.

“What do we do?” Derek asked. It was beyond his expertise.

Edgar nodded. “We have to intervene. This could result in a lawsuit if enough people find out.”

“That won’t happen.” Darius shook his head, a plan already formulated. “Firstly, if the failed payments are correct, it would indicate Jonathan is from a poor background. Easy point of leverage—buy him out or threaten his family with financial ruin. Secondly, he sought this out of his free will and can still log out any second if he wishes. Quite objectively, it was his own doing, and the AI, which we have limited control, over granted his desire. Thirdly, I suspect this has something—”

In his suit pocket vibrated his Holo-Phone—two quick thrums and a split second intense shake. It was a message from an inner circle member. In an instant, Darius hooked out the phone and activated a limited-viewing-angle holographic display. The message was from his brother Vincent, and it was a real emergency.

Vincent Roth: Rowan is in critical condition and won’t be able to login for at least another 24 hours. I miscalculated.

God damn.

There was also one from Gabrielle twenty minutes earlier, but it was sent from in-game and apparently it didn’t trigger his phone despite her similar status. It had to be a bug.

Gabby LeMort: Where’s Rowan?

“What happened?” Edgar asked.

Leaning back into the office chair, Darius deactivated the phone and closed his eyes. He wished for more tea—and perhaps a splash of scotch mixed in. “Rowan’s…” He breathed through his nose as he considered the right words. It was best to not further add to their stress levels with alarming linguistics. “He’s unavailable until tomorrow morning. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious.”

Whistling, Derek scratched his cheekbone. “That’s at least a week in-game. I don’t think Gabby can hold by herself even with her new class. She can’t create any combat units or revive fallen ones.”

Although Darius wasn’t too familiar with the intricacies of the game, he did know what that meant. For some indecipherable reason, the AI had decided to contrast Gabrielle and Rowan’s abilities so that they were stronger when working together. She was to build their bases and he was to populate them and summon their army. The world event title said it all: ‘The Dark Couple Rises’. The AI’s intent was clear, but she’d never fall for a lowly peasant like him. But what did Darius know? They’d been introduced only a couple years prior.

And she was a mere tier six boss. T6s were downed every other day according to Derek. She’d never hold that town for an entire week when the entirety of the playerbase directed their rage at her and lapsed veteran players were starting to return. It’d be an uneventful, boring, swift slaughter within a few game days if the other factions joined in. There was only one course of action for Darius in this position.

Knuckles tapped on the glass table. “Darius?” Edgar said. “Should we—”

“Maintenance.”

Edgar’s brows shot up, his wrinkly forehead compressing into a mountainous landscape. “Excuse me?”

Derek coughed. “What?”

“Offline maintenance. Twenty-four hours.” Was the order not clear?

“Twenty. Four. Hours. Maintenance?!” Edgar stood. “Online services haven’t needed offline maintenance in decades! That problem has long been solved. How can we justify something like this?”

“He’s right,” Derek said. “I don’t remember playing an MMO that had a single maintenance, and I’m thirty-six in two months.”

“Say it’s because of the new virtual reality tech and the AI super-quantum-computer.” Darius shrugged. “Say the pods need firmware updates as well. The masses will buy it.”

Edgar pulled at his gray hair. “No! They won’t—”

“The order is final.” Darius stood and shot both men his most intimidating look with hands behind his back. “I say that as an inner circle member as well as the chief of this company.” The declaration overrode their positions as board members, and the others were in different parts of the world this moment. He had no choice but to exercise his absolute authority.

They gaped, and Derek recovered with surprising flexibility. He clicked his fingers, pointing at Darius. “Let’s go with option two and just say Gabby and Rowan were like a set-piece and they ascended together. We’ll also say we’re also using the time to gather feedback on player World Bosses. We’ll give additional directives to make minor changes if needed.”

Not bad suggestions. It was daring but in times of potential disaster, calculated boldness was sometimes needed. “Do that.” Option one could also be blended to add plasticity, so Darius added, “Make an anonymous leak stating the real story is that Rowan hacked the subscription system and also used an exploit, like we planned. We can easily deny or confirm if needed.”

“That’s genius! I’ll get on it.”

“This is madness,” Edgar snapped. “We’re taking down a paid online service for twenty four hours.”

Darius glowered at the man. What was his problem? He was growing senile. Maybe he needed a checkup with Vincent. “Give them a week of free subscription time. A month if they’re still not happy. We’re giving away two months at launch anyway.”

That seemed to placate him, although not entirely. He sighed a raspy breath, throwing up his hands. “Fine. Fine. Don’t blame me if everyone quits the beta.”

“Alright. Good discussion.” Darius sat, then retrieved his phone once more to flick a message to the legal department regarding Jonathan. A simple pay-off would do. “Get it on it, please.”

They left without another sentence, and Darius went to his private kitchen for some more tea. Today was something else, and it wasn’t even over yet. A couple more hours until employee dismissal remained, and he’d probably have to work late into the night monitoring and directing the unfolding fiasco. Oh, he hadn’t responded to Gabrielle yet. How rude of him.