I scrolled through page after page of legalese, giving my best effort to take the whole affair seriously.

"Kablammy reserves the right to dictate terms of the beta."

"All participants, heretofore referred to as RESIDENTS, agree to store all aspects of their personality on Kablammy servers."

"Kablammy strongly believes in individual human rights and will never infringe on a RESIDENT'S privacy, security, and individuality."

It went on and on like that. There were privacy clauses, data-sharing agreements, beta addendums. I'll be honest here. I tapped out on page four. I swiped to the end, signed, and handed the stylus back to Saint Peter.

"Great," he said. "Perfect. I hope you feel better already."

I didn't mask my sarcasm. "I feel like the possibilities are limitless."

"They are, actually. Within reason. Now comes the fun part."

Saint Peter leaned over the table and spun me on the stool by my shoulder. Apparently I was standing now because matching me eye to eye but several yards away was my exact fucking duplicate.

A series of transparent two-dimensional panels hovered in the air beside the doppelganger. Images, slider bars, color pickers. A text heading above the screens read "Character Creation."

Okay, this was starting to blow my mind a little bit. But I was a gamer. I knew what needed to be done here.

The first choice was race, which was solidly set to human. There appeared to be other options but I was locked out of them. That was fine. I didn't really do the elf thing. There was no selection for gender. I took that to mean we would just be us inside Haven, without the need to specify a definition. So far, so good.

Next came the customization of physical traits. I could tweak stuff here and there, but I couldn't just pick a new face. Imagine you hadn't seen your cousin for five years before a family reunion. Had he gained weight and grown stocky? Had he become a gym rat and buffed up? Maybe college years of ramen had thinned his dimensions out, or he'd taken to the club scene and become a suave ladies man. All these possibilities would affect his appearance, but you wouldn't expect a completely different face or body type. Just modified. The slider bars of real life.

I toyed with my appearance just for funsies. Made myself stronger. Colored my hair blond, then blue. Even gave myself a nice tan. It was riveting seeing the different people I could be, but in the end I knew I wasn't any of them. I clicked the default button and looked myself over.

Straight black hair. Short. Thin frame. Healthy if on the pale side. I'd spent twenty-five years cultivating professional geek chic. It was who I was comfortable being.

I marveled at the detail of the doppelganger, though. The small dog bite scar on my left hand. The eyes, not quite blue or silver, dotted with flecks of black. Even my skinny toes were matched perfectly to every nail. I looked down to my own feet and wiggled them.

"Did you scan my entire body?" I asked, amazed.

Saint Peter scoffed. "No. A scan would be imperfect, without the resolution to survive true DR. You're seeing your brain's representation of your body. Not just who you were, but who you believe you are. It's even more perfect than your physical form, which varied from day to day. This is one hundred percent you, Tod."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the character creation dialog. I had to admit, I was starting to get into this.

I scrolled to the next set of screens. A series of menu images representing categories. My starting clothing. I scrolled through to find something snazzy but quickly realized it wasn't gonna happen. Icon after icon of drab peasant adornments were the only things on offer. As I cycled through the options, the doppelganger standing before me flicked into new outfits. I settled on a black tunic without sleeves that stopped at the knee and suddenly wished I had buff calves too.

Still wearing just the loincloth myself, I turned to Saint Peter. "You think I can put this on now?"

"Check your inventory."

I arched an eyebrow, and then I willed my inventory into existence. A grid consisting of a single item: a black tunic. I selected it and removed it from my inventory. The folded rough cloth appeared in my hands. I awkwardly slipped it over my head. It hung loose on me but didn't hamper my movement in the slightest.

Saint Peter cleared his throat. "The simulation allows you to climb in and out of clothes, if you wish. We do, after all, aspire to realism. However, inventory management, like many aspects of the game, is optimized for digital. Go on, pick a belt and see."

I scrolled through the available belts. They were a bunch of ropes and ribbons, nothing as sturdy as leather. I picked a tan length that was about my height, unsure what to do with it.

"Wear it directly from your inventory," Peter instructed.

I did that and the belt appeared around my waist. There was a knot at my side and the two loose ends hung down my calf. Easy peasy.

Next was footwear. I'm not a sandals guy but that was all they had. I picked something simple that wrapped around my ankle and frowned at my perfectly skinny toes. A good pair of boots would be my first order of business.

I couldn't help grumbling. "I don't really see the point in picking clothes if we're gonna look like peasants."

"We all have to start somewhere," replied the old man. "Your first real decision comes next."

Intrigued, I swiped ahead. A graphic of a crossbar dominated the selection area. It looked like a giant D-pad. Each cardinal direction was labeled.

"The class cruciform," announced Saint Peter. "This concept is at the core of Haven's game balance. These are the four base game disciplines everyone ascribes to."

SOLDIER

(Strength - Weaponry)

______[ ]______

EXPLORER ______ ______ ARTISAN

(Agility - Artifice) [ ] (Craft - Equipment)

[ ]

MYSTIC

(Essence - Magic)

I examined the graphic closely. I could apparently pick from four starting classes: soldier, artisan, mystic, or explorer. Each position on the class cruciform seemed to imply opposition.

The currently selected topmost option was soldier. A separate window displayed its description.

SOLDIER

A natural combatant, soldiers are trained in a multitude of weapons and fighting styles. They're the hunters and knights, often relying on physical force to achieve their ends. An offensive class, soldiers shun the esoteric mystics.

Primary Attribute: Strength.

A fighter class. It was probably one of the more common choices. I swiped at the screen and the entire cruciform rotated, moving artisan to the top selection.

ARTISAN

(Craft - Equipment)

______[ ]______

______ ______

() [ ] ()

[ ]

()

This sounded like something most regular games didn't offer, so I paid attention.

ARTISAN

A heavily equipped defender and craftsman, artisans provide invaluable reinforcement to groups. They're the smiths and engineers, often relying on building strong communities for support. A defensive class, artisans strive against the subterfuge of explorers.

Primary Attribute: Craft

Interesting. Builders of some sort, although the class description was open-ended. I wondered how many possibilities there were. How many types of things could be built. Artisans were merchants, perhaps, but they had a stronger defensive role.

That made me ponder just how expansive Haven was. Maybe soldiers had a lot more going on than I assumed. I flipped to the next class.

Mystic

(Essence - Magic)

______[ ]______

______ ______

() [ ] ()

[ ]

()

MYSTIC

A powerful specialist, mystics cast a range of spells in any number of disciplines. They're the magicians and healers, often relying on superiority through supernatural means. An offensive class, mystics abhor the banality of soldiers.

Primary Attribute: Essence

"Hmm," I said. "I would've expected a mage class to prioritize intelligence."

"You're thinking along the lines of old games," said Saint Peter. "Haven doesn't have attributes like intelligence and wisdom. What are these things if not an applied collection of your experiences and knowledge? If you're dumb enough to grasp a poisoned rose with an ungloved hand, what good would a numbered representation do you?"

I thought I followed. "So the attributes represent..."

"The non-mental portions of your digital reality. The things that don't really exist. Strength is your physical prowess, which unfortunately has not made the transition with your brain. On the opposite side of the spectrum is your essence, your closeness with the magic of Haven. The supernatural world. The craft of artisans represents general handiness and ability, while agility determines your speed and quickness."

I was beginning to see what Peter meant about the class cruciform being at the heart of Haven's game balance. Four base classes, four base attributes. A set of opposites in the combat and support spectrums. As a game developer I appreciated the clean design.

I swiped to the last class.

Explorer

(Agility - Artifice)

______[ ]______

______ ______

() [ ] ()

[ ]

()

EXPLORER

A furtive wildcard, explorers use speed and smarts to achieve their goals behind the scenes. They're the spies and adventurers, often nomadic and flexible. A support class, explorers work outside the order built by artisans.

Primary Attribute: Agility

So if artisans built strong communities and unions, explorers struck out into the unknown on their own. I liked the sound of that.

There was something else. In games like this, I always pick the thief. Call it a fatal flaw, but rogues are my jam, even when they're underpowered. Granted, the word "thief" was never mentioned, but this was the agility-based class.

"Can explorers use weapons?" I asked.

"They sure can. Weaponry is the domain of the soldier, but as consort classes artisans and explorers have ample weapon selection. They even have physical combat skills. Just don't imagine you can trade blows toe to toe with a soldier."

That was all I needed to hear. I selected explorer. On cue, I was offered a list of starting weapons. Swords, slings, clubs. This part wasn't a foregone conclusion to me. I'd used all types of weapons in MMOs before. It just depended on the game and the current timing. Right now I knew I didn't wanna be just another sword jockey, but that was about it.

I considered what little I knew of the class. Explorers were loners with great mobility. As I cycled past a staff, I noted the imposing height of the thing in my double's hands. It wasn't a small dagger—a thief's weapon—but it had an opposite appeal. Definitely not sneaky, but a big stick sure as hell would keep enemies at a distance.

I thought about agility. Rogue classes often focus on subterfuge and slinking around shadows—hiding blades in sleeves—but there was nothing that explicitly said explorers needed to steal for a living in Haven. Maybe I could use my quickness for other pursuits. Sprinting, dodging, outmaneuvering.

A big stick wasn't a bad tool for creating space among enemies and using it.

I cycled through some other choices. A bow and arrow. A mace. I'd used those weapons at times but, with my new train of thought, they didn't appeal now. I wasn't planning on hiding in trees or ambushing enemies from behind.

When I scrolled to the spear, it immediately resonated with me. Here I had the reach of a staff but the added offense of a metal point. Sure, it probably limited some of the more acrobatic options, but it was a good balance between weapon and tool. I selected it.

[Woodman's Spear]

"Interesting choice," remarked Saint Peter. "I see you're going to have fun with this."

"I'm either dead or dreaming," I agreed. "I've got nothing to lose."

"Now that's the spirit."