Electoral 2072 - Presidential Challenge

Emilio Wamarez Sanchez - President

Age: 39

Magic Points Left: 200

The simulation began for President Emilio precisely the same way it did for the football player. Marilyn was in the kitchen of the castle, dressed in her maid outfit and preparing bread. "Welcome back everyone. A large portion of you are still with us, curious to see if Emilio will be stellar or will be blown away in minutes like most of you. More than two billion of you are watching. It's called the Presidential Challenge for a good reason. Emilio is undefeated when playing Loric the wizard. It's his favorite character. Thank you for the kindness and generosity, your participation will help so many.

“Of the five wizard templates offered to the players, two-thirds of the players picked the war wizard, who is adapted perfectly to this scenario. I can confirm that the war wizard users did score much better on average."

On screen, she cut the burning-hot bread with a long knife. "Those who scored above 1,050,000 won, and their charities will earn either 7 million credits each, or as low as a million if Emilio beats your score. The best scored just over three million. A souvenir is also on its way to you. Emilio's charity will receive nothing unless he scores at least 1,050,000 points. Then, for each person he beats after that point, his charity, the Tsunami Relief Fund, will take back six of the seven million credits. That's not something you want to happen. Let the Challenge begin."

She arranged the bread slices in the basket before making her way up the stairs. "I don't think anyone watching will be surprised to learn that Emilio picked the least favorite template offered, the one called the crystal warlock. The warlock's specialties include teleportation, transformation, and mind control. Not really the best for this game of gore and blood, but let's go see what the President has in mind, shall we?"

She pushed the kitchen door with her shoulder while carefully balancing the wooden tray. "Why do I feel like this is the calm before the storm? I must confess, I wrote this game with one purpose in mind: place the President in the most uncomfortable situation possible. We all know he is a pure diplomat; he hates direct brute conflict. This scenario, at its core, is nothing more than killing. Sadly, good leaders are sometimes faced with one option only: the path of violence. Let's see how he does."

Marilyn walked up to the warlock's bedroom. She saw a glimpse of the man; he winked and blew her a kiss before he teleported from the tower of the castle. "Keep my dinner warm, Marie, I will be right back!" said the wizard played by the President. Loric’s long hair laced with expensive jewelry was back.

The warlock appeared with a “pop” far above the castle in the blue sky. The Comb, his residence, was a dot in the landscape below. Three magic points were used to transport him so high. His face had the familiar features of the President. The warlock was wearing long white robes, and a simple red belt made of rope. He was several miles above the castle, halfway between him and the ground were dragons circling the tower with bloodshed in mind. He began a long fall downward. Emilio did not care, he enjoyed the wind. From this vantage point, he could see the entire invading army. Dragons were circling his tower, ready to attack. The sea was filled with boats, and the land army was spread for leagues around the castle. This was no army; it was a flood of creatures. Fighting was useless. Emilio needed to take care of this menace from a different perspective.

The dragons in the sky were still well below him. The predators had just lost his smell, looking up, they quickly reacquired it. They pushed their heavy wings to begin their difficult ascension to reach him a second faster if at all. The lizards began beating their wings ferociously, climbing to meet him. Waiting the extra couple of seconds for the human to drop down to their altitude was not acceptable. The monsters were hunting. As he fell, face to the wind, Emilio extended both arms and yelled. "I, Loric, summon those loved ones, those taken from thy, allies of the sky!" A total of thirty-four magic points were removed from Loric's Magic total. Large black portals opened around him. Approximately one hundred large dragon eggs of all colors appeared in the sky through the portals and began to fall toward their parents. Emilio guessed the humans had the beasts in servitude by holding the eggs hostage. He was, as always, correct. Five toddler dragons also appeared and began their long fall amidst the eggs. The small creatures could not fly. With the first shriek, the dragon horde broke into a frenzy. These were intelligent creatures; they knew what had just happened. Each dragon converged with speed to one egg: its own.

Loric had at most a minute or two before hitting the ground. He cast a flight spell to stop his descent, and a language spell to talk to the creatures. He only had 161 magic points remaining. Each spell was elaborate; colors filled the sky around the warlock as he cast them. In the distance, he saw other flying creatures rise up from the forest. Catapults were dialed in, ready for him to drop a thousand feet. God, he loved this game. He and Willie shared at least one thing: they both had clearly had a blast playing the game.

"I have freed your children from these monsters," he said in dragon tongue. "You are no longer enslaved. You owe me. Destroy the humans." In any other Electoral simulation, the dragons would have felt gratitude and agreed to turn against their masters. Not today. This round was about smashing, Marilyn had made herself clear.

"Worm, we owe no debt to you. We leave you alive as repayment," said the largest red dragon.

"You owe me."

"We will not attack the army on your behalf. That would be suicide and would defeat a greater purpose." The creature was right.

"Burn their cover, torch the woods as you leave."

"Done!"

Before the ground army could realize what was happening, the dragons swooped down, some holding an egg in their claws. The red dragons torched the woods. The combustible liquids used to fire up the catapults exploded poetically. This would give Loric time to handle other matters. The neutralization of all the dragons as they left the area gave him no points. The Electoral point system was clear: killing enemies was the only way to get points. This simulation was a hack and slash, and there were all sorts of bonuses for flamboyant kills, not political settlements.

Emilio did not care about his score. He saw the size of the army, he needed to buy time; staying alive was the key, he knew that. The game had been going on for only a minute, and Emilio's score, with the few casualties in the woods, was already superior to 61% of the player base. He was given half the points for the indirect kills.

The warlock scanned the area. He needed a better plan, one capable of massive destruction. To win, he had to be bold. Below, the fires were being extinguished, at least that would keep the land forces occupied for a couple of minutes. He turned his attention to the sea and the floating armada. They were ready to send large boulders his way, and some did. He flew down to the beach, at the base of the Comb a thousand feet below his castle. For the moment, the cliff and his Comb on the edge was still intact. He felt like he was defending this piece on the game board. The spotters on the ships saw him and began shouting different instructions. They were dropping the heads of the catapults, filling them with fire and grabbing their bows.

He needed a single spell capable of dispatching the entire armada.

He knew this scenario was designed to throw him off-balance. Over the years of playing with the interface, he knew one day he would be forced to resort to violence. At least this scenario wasn't part of the 2072 competition. He had a plan, a horrible plan. The solution to the destruction of an infinite force was to use and exponentially growing force. If he could generate one, then two, then four creatures, each multiplying each time they encountered an enemy, the larger the force facing him, the more powerful his weapon would be.

This armada was already dead. They just didn't know it yet.

He looked down between his feet. In the water under a rock hid a small red fish. Loric reached down and grabbed it. It wiggled between his fingers. He had only a few seconds before it died. With the other hand, he seized a broken, wet branch. The warlock moved a finger and cast magic. Red gas enrobed the fish. "May your appetite for wood grow to a frenzy." The fish morphed in shape and size. It now had long silver teeth. Loric touched the fish with the stick. It opened its mouth and began munching on the stick like a piranha eats flesh. It cut through the bark like butter.

Twenty points were removed from the magic pool.

"Once full, you will duplicate." Loric lost twenty more magic points. "Duplicate tenfold." Another seventeen points were removed. He was down to 102 points.

Loric dropped the fish in the sea. Loric threw the wood as far as he could into the sea, halfway between the coast and the first ship of the armada. The launched itself after the branch like a missile. The creature swam to the branch, jumped on it and began to devour it. Seconds later, the fish exploded into ten smaller fish. Each swam in the water around the remaining portion of the branch. Before long, a hundred fish were digesting the last tip of the branch.

What happened next was predictable. The fish saw in the distance the floating armada. The school roared through the water in the direction of the vessels. Before long they began to eat a hull. Hundreds became thousands and continued to multiply until the sea around the ships bubbled with the fish.

As the army above regrouped, the ships began to sink one by one. The soldiers wearing metal plates were powerless to stay afloat. They sank and died without a drop of blood spilled.

This time Loric was scoring points. They were adding up quickly. He soon reached 1,000,000 as the blue sea turned to a whitish foam from the multiplication of the fish. The points began to blink in gold on the screen. Loric's charity was grabbing millions from other players' with every additional kill. But the President did not care. In the virtual reality, he was a different man, a part of this world.

Above, ugly little sprites with wings spotted him on the beach. They were calling reinforcements. He had seconds to prepare his next attack. With a hand, a shield went up.

Loric had half his magic left. He had a moment of hesitation, what he needed to do next was horrible. Whatever he chose, there would be bloodshed. The warlock's flight spell was still working, and he took off from the beach. He flew back up the cliff to the top of his castle and landed on the ceiling above his bedroom. The land army was ready for him, it was back, in fighting configuration. Large catapults were rolling up the grass area, and the forest was still fuming.

"I see him!" yelled a watchman as Loric landed on the roof.

Loric touched his skin. It turned to a semi-transparent deep blue crystal. He had 100 points of magic left; this would be enough for what he had in mind. "Marie, close the blinds, hide in a piece of furniture and let nothing in!" yelled the warlock, moving his arms in large circular motions.

The incantation needed few words. A vortex of multicolored magic engulfed the warlock and then shot down into the sea, right in the white bubbling millions of wood-eating fish. "Fly. Breathe. I unleash you as plague. May your appetite for wood be replaced with a need of flesh!" All the remaining magic points were released into this last spell, reaching as many fish as possible.

What followed was horrible. The fish changed and morphed once more. Waves of carnivorous fish flew up the cliff, curved around it, and like a swarm of bees directed themselves at the different units of the army. Swarms flew and tried to enter Loric's Comb. His skin was made of crystal, so the fish ignored him altogether.

At that point, it became the problem of the Electoral platform in managing the destruction. The plague of death swarmed into the army. As the flesh was ripped from the bones of every living creature, points accumulated until the wheel of numbers was out of control. The carnage was everywhere.

Electoral had said nothing about preserving this world.

By the time things quieted down, there was nothing but death.

- - -

Marilyn, still dressed as a maid, was locked away with a lamp in a pantry. Finally, the noise had stopped outside in the forest. She opened the door gently; the floor of the house was covered in dead winged fish. She looked at the screen. "Needless to say, Emilio won. The man's resourcefulness, as always, is amazing. Join us for round 26, when the last one hundred and twenty-seven participants return to the competition from Mars. In two days, we will run another free simulation, this time for fun. Emilio's charity just won sixty billion credits."

She grabbed a fish and held it close to her face. "Here is the tip for the next round, I will be focusing on empathy."

As she looked at the fish, it came alive, opened its large mouth and reached for the face of Marilyn. As it almost touched her, everyone who was watching jumped from their seat. The simulation ended.

Willie and the two journalists at the desk were stunned.

"I guess he beats me," said Willie rhetorically.

"How . . . ."

"It's . . . ."

The CNN producer cut to a commercial.

President Emilio Wamarez Sanchez was no ordinary player. Against all the odds he had won the 2062 election, played to his reelection in 2067 and was now ranked first in the overall rankings in this third presidential pursuit. Statistically, this level of superiority made no scientific sense. The performance, as usual, helped his numerous detractors who believed he somehow cheats.