From the darkness and weightlessness of space, sitting in her first class seat, the online game began and Sophie in the blink of the eye had moved from the library to this new world. The simulation of the President began like a good movie. In a perfect blue sky, large white letters appeared:

Round 7 - March 21, 2072

Emilio Wamarez Sanchez

Nationality: Mexican (42)

Occupation: Car Mechanic (Currently serving as President)

R Rated - Very graphic psychological violence

Navigating the Electoral interface came naturally to those of Sophie's generation. She did not understand why adults struggled with it. It was simple; an extension of the real world where Electoral played god. Her father had his world, so did Marilyn. The simulations were like wearing glasses while peeking into a parallel universe, one of fantasy and games. In Electoral's world, Sophie, like all viewers was given a stiff, robotic body. When a person was actually playing, the body was opaque but as today, when watching another’s game, the body was semi-transparent. Watching as a ghost came naturally.

Electoral was much more sophisticated than all other interfaces, though. Light-years ahead in realism and adaptability. The Electoral game was baptized because of its social function. It was a massive worldwide bracket competition where each player was called a contestant. People played the game much like any other video game, but Electoral, like a puppet master, created innumerable scenarios, adapted to the player.

In this digital world, Electoral animated every creature and character encountered by the participants. There was, in Electoral's game, no human-on-human interaction to avoid cheating; the stakes were too high. Electro the dog and the students sitting in the digital library were all animated by the software. In fact, Electro was the personality of the digital goddess. This was no ordinary interface; Electoral enforced her rules relentlessly as the best tiger mom controlled her household.

After each game round, the player's performance was recorded and could be downloaded and watched in virtually any format for a fee. Electoral was so powerful, it created actual movies from each round in which each participant was the lead actor. Most contestants, or their loved ones, paid to upload and keep a video of their memorable performances and that is where Marilyn made all her money (along with advertising). Who didn't dream of playing in a movie instead of watching one?

Since it was an election, a public service opened to all, enrolling and playing this game was free. Electoral was a planet-wide skill test, where live decisions in this digital interface were the public interview of the moral fiber of their next elected officials. In Electoral, there was no practice, no take-home, and no second chance. The winner was president for four years, the runner up the vice-president.

Today, Sophie was going to watch Electoral's movie-like presentation of one important man. In fact, though, this was a recording of one of the live contestant performances, starring none other than President Sanchez as the main actor. Electoral acted as a live role-playing interface, with the Presidency as the prize awarded to the winner of the last elimination round. This particular recording featured Round 7; the simulation was now up to Round 26. The remaining 128 players on their way to Mars would play, Round 27 would cut the field by half would, then Round 28 until a pair only met during the finale, Round 32, in late November.

Given the complexity of the game experience, the Electoral interface required a great deal of user input. Each participant spent what seemed like hours before each game programming settings in a secret part of the digital world. In real time, that took a second or two. Getting used to the magical spell-casting system was even harder. Players were given magic points to use to fuel their spells. Once a player's magic points were depleted, a player was powerless, and the game was over as there was no defense left. One point of magic was a lot. In earlier simulations, each player was given up to 10 points for the full story.

The computer system running Electoral, called by most as Electoral or Marilyn Monroe, liked fantasy settings. They were always colorful and very fanciful. In her world, there was no dirt, pain, only amusement. Electoral was partial to broadcasts featuring medieval-inspired environments, as well as other stories based on old video games and role-playing games. Each time, Marilyn Monroe the narcissistic persona herself, played one of the main protagonists if not the villain herself. No one knew If she was smoke and mirrors but who cared.

The Electoral platform was so efficacious that it/she always heavily edited the recordings it/she sold. Sophie considered for a moment, then with an inward sigh, decided to use the feminine pronoun to describe Electoral. Despite the fact that she was artificial, she was awfully convincing. Electoral always chose the best camera angles, inserted flashbacks, and even added in some dramatic breaks to enhance the viewing experience. Quite simply, Electoral was a masterful editor of the contestant’s own movies. Advertising was also fully integrated into the game's productions. The low-cost version available online came with many commercial interruptions. More expensive versions were ad-free.

Electoral had, in a span of ten years, redefined online gaming and live television. Her resolution, realism, and imagination far exceeded any other game. What Sophie was about to watch was a movie made by Electoral of President Sanchez's performance as he played Round 7.

As every round, the show began along with music. Inspired, thunderous, mind-altering music. Moments after the white letters of the opening credits faded to a morning blue sky. The music became deeper, more pressing. Sophie in her seat anchored down. The simulation started with a flyover the magical landscape. No wonder others were hooked this entire trip, this was electronic cocaine.

The beauty stunned her. It was early morning here as the Sun rose over the deepest sea. Her eyes took time to adjust to the brightness. Logging into the interface was always a rush, and this time was no different. The sky was a cloudless azure and the sea a deep emerald. She was high upon a plateau where the sea met a rocky cliff to the north, a thousand feet below the cliff face. The stiff rock facade was made of oddly shaped boulders with gray and blue hues. The odd-shaped appeared stacked by a crazy architect, suggesting that all manner of caverns, crevices, and secret passageways hid in the odd rock formation. Maybe these were sleeping rock golems. Here everything was possible.

In the real world, as her viewpoint stooped down to the castle, she reached out to grab the armrest and touched her neighbor. “Sorry,” she offered as the game continued.

On the edge of the cliff, high above the sea, rested a castle made from the boulders. As with every castle, a small rounded tower could be distinguished at the top. This was the residence of Loric the wizard, in what was known as the Comb of Loric. The location was famous; Sophie could not go a day in real life without seeing it on someone’s t-shirt.

The powerful wizard was a fixture in the Electoral platform. Each time the software wanted players to have fun while blowing things up, she brought them here. This was no subtle reality. It was sheer digital destruction. Loric was the reincarnation of every first-person shooter game. Sophie was surprised to hear that President Sanchez had won a shoot-'em-up scenario. That was unlike him, the man was usually more delicate in his solutions.

More lettering flashed across the sky and introduced the movie.

-- The Comb of Loric --

The title floated for a moment and faded out as the world surged into life. Sophie saw the simulation as a bird, swooping in toward the castle. Opposite the cliff, behind the castle, was a gently sloping field leading to a lush green forest. In the distance beyond the line where trees began in the thick forest crawled with...things. Strong trees wrestled to stay standing as ugly things crawled at their base. The large lush field between the forest and the castle was an open grass that generally served as staging battleground for most beginning contestants. Advanced players flew while shooting bolts of energy.

Sophie, even though she was really sitting in the spacecraft, was instantly drawn into The Comb. The authenticity of the simulation could not be denied. Whatever this was, even watching it was addictive. Her father had to have a very serious reason to ask her to see this. She took a deep breath both in real life and in this strange digital reality.

On cue, the world moved and she was gently transported into a bedroom located in the central tower of the castle. It was high above the cliff behind her the only window overlooking the sea. The room was of Middle Ages inspiration. In the large wooden bed slept Loric the wizard. Sophie heard the warning voice of Electro the dog. "We've passed the introduction, the character development, and preliminary spell casting, you still want to see this?"

Back in the ship, Sophie tensed her thumb and pushed her index finger gently downward. This indicated an affirmative response.

The game continued.

In the simulation, a maid dressed in robes pushed a nearby door with her elbow as she entered the wizard’s bedroom holding a flat tray. The bed was beautiful and ornate. The tray was filled with breads, fruits, and all manner of baked goods. Sophie wished she could smell the tray's contents, but there still was no sense of smell in Electoral. Not yet, at least. The sleeping wizard had the facial features of President Emilio Sanchez, with the exception of pale skin, pointy ears, and long blond hair.

The woman spoke, "Sir, kindly, you must wake up." The maid placed the tray close to the bed, hoping the aromas would wake the man. An older woman followed the tray-carrying maid into the room. A quick glance revealed that both servants were related.

"Be forceful," urged the elder, "this is important. Today he must wake." The voice disturbed the sleeper. Loric cringed and tossed in his sleep but remained away.

"Sir, we implore you!" said the nervous younger woman. "Touch him!"

"Enough," snapped the youngest, "I am Matriarch now, let me be. Touching him is sacrilege and forbidden." The maid went around the room and opened the wooden shutters letting more sunlight in the room. She passed in the ghostlike body of Sophie. As she opened the shutter, a beam of sunlight hit the wizard's face. Loric grumbled but remained deeply asleep. On the edge of the window two different birds came momentarily rest before taking off. The first was red, the second brown. Sophie saw them and her parents came to her mind. Was this what he wanted me to see, she wondered, but the story continued.

"Sir, an army is coming to the Comb, they will soon be here. Please awaken. Our lives are in danger. The world needs you."

"Lilia, each day you try the same words. It never works.”

"Mother be silent!” The Matriarch was nervous.

The dreams of the sleeping wizard were disturbed. Sweat was beading on his forehead. His robes were drenched with perspiration. Sophie turned her head and looked out at an angle out the window to see what was so pressing. An army of varied monsters seethed in the distant forest. She could hear the cracking of trees being snapped like twigs. A palpable sense of fleeting time grew uncontrollably.

The realism of the simulation that Sophie had admired only minutes ago now tightened and constricted her. There was a darkness to this simulation; little wonder it was intended for an adult audience. No shock adults were so stressed all the time, she told herself. In the game, the two women powerless to awake him left the bedroom, and as the door closed, Electoral moved the simulation forward in time to the next event of note. In the sky, the Sun shifted and began to descend as in the room the wizard turned in his endless sleep. At this point all other players were blasting fireballs away, but here, there was silence.

Electoral was the master of time in her world. The younger maid, who had referred to herself as the Matriarch, returned. This time, she carried with her water and a freshly cooked stew. The wizard's sleep grew increasingly agitated and his lips dry. Clearly, waking Loric would have dire consequences.

Sophie watched as columns of smoke appeared in the forest where villages had once stood. From the seaward side of the castle, hundreds of warships hove toward them from the east. In the sky, giant flying beasts of different colors and shapes swarmed and circled like birds of prey. This massive invading army clearly had one goal in mind: destruction. Yet the wizard still did not awaken. Sophie was intrigued. The simulations, particularly battle oriented affairs such as this, were never this boring. Her father had told her Emilio would win, but so far he had done nothing but sleep uneasily. There must be astonishing events to come. The maid almost wet his lips, hesitated and left. Time surged forward again a couple of hours.

Mid-day gave way to late afternoon. The weather was cloudy, but only above the Comb. The wizard had now sunken deep into nightmares. The clouds gathered above had darkened the sky, forming a funnel of darkness over the bedroom. The cloud formations seem to twist in concert with each of Loric's violent tosses. Strong winds blew about the castle.

Gusts began testing the anchors of the shutters. Sophie did not understand what was going on. Where was the fight and the magic? She expected a game simulation, yet this was a dark, cold drama. The Matriarch re-entered the bedroom once more in a state of quasi-hysteria. Her face was as red as if someone had just slapped her. She finally found the courage to hunch over the wizard's body. "Sir, you must awaken. The life of this entire region depends upon it. My boys in the village will be slaughtered unless you stop the Evil One."

The wizard's lips were dry and his skin paler than usual. Yet, he did not wake up.

The matriarch gathered her courage. She must touch him, but she was unsure how to do so. Kissing him was out of the question. She leaned closer, breathing heavily over his face. Maybe that would suffice. It did not. With one finger, she guardedly touched his shoulder. There was no effect.

"Sir, please help us," she pled. She poked touched him several times, and each time the weather outside stirred and shifted forcefully. The shutters were swinging and slamming against the stones of the wall.

Finally, she flattened her hand, tensed her fingers and raised it as to slap the wizard. Her hand moved back dramatically in the air, then swung forward. It never reached the face of Loric. While the wizard's eyes remained closed, his hand animated by magic grabbed her wrist at transcendent speed. He snapped her wrist like a twig. She had no time to let out a cry and Loric, as if animated by a spirit, stood up in the bed, finally opened dark eyes. The wizard's other hand unclenched, and a jolt of blue energy sprang from it, striking the maid in the chest. With a sickening wet ripping sound, her limbs were torn off as if she were a doll. The room was suddenly awash with blood.

Sophie cringed as she watched the dead body hit the floor with a dull thud. This was not fun, she thought. Weren't games supposed to be fun? Suddenly, the entire simulation paused. The noise of the hurricane halted. A voice came from nowhere. It was the returning voice of Electro, "Sophie, this is the R rated version, are you really sure you don't want me to tone it down a notch?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for caring." Maybe the dog was right she wondered to herself, but Sophie was no ordinary girl.

"What comes next is much more graphic. There will be other types of violence. Sexual violence. I really caution you."

"Resume, please. Father is always right." The movie continued.

In the sky far above the castle, a whirling cascade of clouds appeared. Like a wall of hail, it came crashing down on the castle and hit the tower. The rocks forming the tower shook in all directions, barely remaining intact. The same could not be said of the castle's gardens. A vortex of water hit the grounds as Loric fully opened his gray eyes, finally awakened. As he stepped down from the bed, shockwaves of wind poured outward from the castle as though Loric's cold gray stare had detonated a nuclear bomb. Brush fires were extinguished for miles, but most trees stayed standing.

Loric was here.

The rocks forming the garden's labyrinth flew straight up in the air. The roofless tower remained. Sophie in her transparent form was standing in the eye of a massive tornado, feet next to Loric. The wizard had become a living bomb. The air crackled with electricity around him. Sophie could make no sense of anything that was happening.

The wizard stood next to where the bed had been. The powerful man looked at his hands, which pulsated with uncontrolled blue magical energy arcing between each finger. Larger bolts of blue lightning began to pour from him, feeding the destruction. He was the fuel of this storm, the battery of the vortex above. Whatever was going on, things were out of control, and he alone was to blame.

In an effort to control the energy, the wizard closed both his hands and formed fists. It wasn't enough. Lightning and raw energy kept slipping between his fingers and fill the world. Trying another approach, he put both trembling hands on his chest and coiled himself around them on the ground like a rugby player protecting the ball. He knew the energy would not hurt his own body.

"Calm down, calm down..." he murmured to himself. Loric began to actively control his breathing as the funnel of clouds hit the room. The rocks forming the walls flew in every direction, stripping the wizard of his last protection. Sophie was now standing in open space, on the edge of the cliff between walls of rotating rocks. Around them was what remained of his grounds and his castle. The wizard was next to her on the ground, curled into a fetal position shaking.

"No, no, no..." Loric was trying to get the power under control, and slowly the leaking energy stopped. Sophie was riveted by the scene. In the Electoral game, wizards always had full control over their own power. This wizard obviously did not.

"What happened?" asked Sophie out loud. She knew Electro would never be far away.

Her friend’s voice answered, "Prior to the commencement of the scenario, Emilio programmed his magic in a very unique way. He gave up many controls and placed many limitations on himself in exchange for increased power. That’s how it works." In the interface, Electoral contestants were able to program limitations on their spells in exchange for power.

If Emilio was not controlling the game, how could he have won this simulation? Sophie asked the invisible dog, "Please display the magic points." A number appeared in the upper left corner of her visor's heads-up display. She expected to see a number close to 20. The number she saw left her stunned. It was 2,675. Seconds later it blinked down to 2,674 as some energy was still pouring out of the wizard on the grass next to her. Loric was slowly gaining control over himself and the numbers stopped changing.

The Electoral platform loved magic and the display of raw power, but there had never been any game in which anyone had been given more than 150 points.

"How many points were given at the start before character modifications?" asked Sophie. She heard Electro's voice say "27." This was pure folly. Each time a player limited himself in some way, the point total increased. "What did he do?"

"You really want to know?"

"Forget it. Just run it. Keep the points displayed, that's helpful."

Energy ceased pouring out of the wizard, and the whirling funnel around them stopped. The sky cleared; the gyrating rocks began falling back to the ground. Loric had finally stabilized himself. He got up, dusted himself off, and walked to what looked like the remains of the maid. "I am sorry," he said in a soft voice. From deep within the rubble of the castle, a wooden cellar door clanged opened. The girl's mother climbed out. She saw her daughter and swallowed, fighting to keep her composure.

"Sir, an army is preparing to attack us," she said, pointing at the forest to the left.

"I know." He did not ask who the body was. "When will they be here?"

"They have already assembled at the edge of the forest, though the wind slowed them down. Just before...the storm...” She blinked back tears as her voice took on a quavery tone. “We had word that an envoy is already riding up."

"Was she your daughter?"

"Yes," the woman replied. Loric had known before he even asked. He was still covered in her blood.

"I will bring her back to you. Just give me until the end of the day." Nothing the wizard could have said would have brought her more hope. Only Loric could make such a bold promise of resurrection.

Sophie saw the magic points on the corner of her eye blink; Loric was about to use magic again. She expected him to cast a spell, and resurrect the maid, but the number of magic points actually increased to 3,212.

Emilio had just placed another limitation on the wizard's use of magic, and the eyes of the character were now surrounded by a nimbus of blue light. With the increase in power, Sophie expected him to burst as if he were a bomb, but slowly his body absorbed the power, and his eyes returned to normal. Whatever he had done in the programming interface, it would be worth watching. Her father had been right. This performance was unique. In any other simulation, the fight would have already begun. This was calculated, different.

In the distance, a warhorse whinnied. A large beast mounted by an armor-plated knight galloped across the field and stopped within speaking distance of the Comb. The barding worn by the heavy creature was beautifully gold laced. The emissary sat at the doorstep of what remained of the castle. He was within striking distance for the wizard, but no weapon was drawn. The warhorse seemed unfazed by the falling rocks and debris around it.

The horse tapped its leg twice on the ground. The knight removed his helmet, placed it under his arm, and gracefully dismounted. What was left of the castle would not scare off an invading army. In the distance, the creatures were preparing a full-scale attack. The same mission given to each contestant of Round 7 was simple: destroy as much of the invading army as possible with the 27 magic points. Emilio had taken the backroad.

Loric pulled a gem-encrusted hairbrush from the rubble at his feet. This was not the day to care about his appearance, yet the wizard did. The knight knew of the reputation and power of the wizard, and the explosion of the castle had confirmed his fears. Loric was not an enemy to be underestimated. The knight was ready to die. He wanted only the honor of delivering his message.

Loric spoke first. "I am left to wonder why you pulled the short straw. And you are?"

"Commandant Matthias, sir."

"I assume you have a message for me."

"I do," he replied. Sophie saw the military man tense: a fighting man suddenly forced into the role of diplomat. Memorization was not his strong suit, and this had to be done right.

"Do you have a first name?" asked Loric. The question surprised the warrior.

"Are you Loric, The Bringer of Harm, The Doom Father?" The titles were always different, but the meanings were always similar.

"That is not what I asked. What is your first name?"

"Roland."

"Well, Roland, you should be aware that I don't plan on killing anyone or anything today."

The man ignored the wizard's words, he was going to recite his message. He said, in the deepest tones he could muster, "Oye Loric. The Evil One, The Destructor of Worlds. The United Nation of Vurdi stands before you. We have judged your existence unworthy, and you are sentenced to die."

"That is fine. Roland, who is the ruler of Vurdi?"

"The Great Mundi Vurdi."

"Is he in the forest?" Loric waited for a response. Commandant Matthias hesitated. From the expression of the fighter, Loric deduced that the ruler was nearby.

"Killing him will not halt the invading army, he has sons."

"I assume I am all that is left between him and total domination of the land?" Loric asked. Sophie was surprised. Why ask a question when any one of a number of different spells could find out the truth. Loric was stalling. He was deliberately not using magic. Loric continued, "I have much experience with these situations. It is one of the benefits of being very old. You see, Roland, over the centuries, many tyrants have tried to dominate me, but none has succeeded. Here is why you interest me. Each time an army shows up, there is always one person, a poor sap sent as the sacrificial lamb. It is either a slave in a plain white tunic or someone like you. The closest thing your boss has to a challenger for his job." Roland hesitated once more. This wizard had succinctly defined his predicament. It was unsettling.

Loric continued. "Here is your play. As things stand, even if I let you go, Mister Vurdi will make sure you hack yourself to death before nightfall. Your life expectancy is rather short. I will surrender to you. You bring me into the camp to meet that general of yours. Either he kills me, and you are the hero who brought me in, or I kill your boss. Thus, I gain an ally who is in charge of an army, and you rise. In both cases, the outcome favors one man: you." The logic of it was starting to make Roland waver. "Answer me truthfully. Is he down there?"

He's right, thought Roland. "He is."

Loric held both fists up for his surrender. Sophie was intrigued.

Other gaming interfaces could not adapt to such rare and complicated situations. The Electoral platform, though, would quickly adapt and see this scenario through to the end. Roland tied the wizard's hand rather loosely and asked "Will you kill him?" Gotcha thought Emilio behind his interface.

"I will do much better than that."

Roland tied a long rope to the back of the war horse and attached Loric's hands to a spare saddle ring. They walked slowly back to the edge of the wood. The parade of shame was rather strange. They entered a wood crawling with enemy creatures of all types. The army parted as the horse walked onward. Some seemed rather confused by the simple capture of what seemed like a normal human. Vurdi had spent years building up Loric's reputation as a destroyer of worlds. Yet there he was, powerless and walking bound behind Commandant Matthias's horse.

Large, intimidating dragons flew overhead above the forest, spiraling and ready to attack. The might of this army was exceptional. The men were relatively clean, groomed, and sober. Vurdi was no slouch. Obviously, he was a man to which war was important; a matter taken seriously. Loric was counting on the confusion of his easy capture, along with the fear and discipline Vurdi inspired, to keep any one of them from reaching out and hurting him.

"The Evil One wishes to beg for his life to Vurdi himself," yelled the Commandant. Loric smiled. Roland was better than anticipated.

After a few tense moments, a large tattooed man came out from the ranks. He was holding an axe. Judging by the reaction of the crowd, this was just a thug. The man's armor was not impeccable; there were scratches on the breastplate. Before the man came too close, Loric called out, "Is your leader such a coward that he sends a dog? I am disappointed. I was expecting courage, not cowardice."

In the back, there was the loud roar, as if from a madman. A guttural war-cry that could only come from someone in charge. The man with the axe immediately faded back into the ranks. What appeared next was unmistakably a battle-hardened warrior. The man's muscles were ripped and tanned. His body was covered by scars. The armor was exquisite. There was no mistaking it: this man was in charge. Sophie saw Loric's lips curl; he was grinning. This was going according to plan, and she began to feel sorry for anyone who tried to derail it.

As Vurdi stalked through his troops, he swore uncontrollably. There would be no discussion, no negotiating. The man's weapons were drawn in both hands, and he was coming in for the kill.

Sophie saw the number of magical points in the corner of her screen blink. A single spell was cast, and the number dropped from over three thousand down to zero. Loric cast his only spell of the simulation, the single largest and most complex spell ever thrown in the game. There were no visible signs of the magic at first. The man had his axe in one hand and a large curved dagger in the other. Electoral slowed the simulation for dramatic effect. Vurdi, steps away, jumped up. At some point, the warrior was several feet on the top of an arc that would drop him onto the defenseless wizard, like a tiger about to devour its prey. Vurdi lowered both weapons on Loric. Slowly, the blades made contact with the wizard's neck, and at that precise moment of contact, the magic spell activated.

Time stopped.

Both opponents were frozen in space in the forest. Loric stood a heartbeat from death. The magic flooded out of his body, colors filled Sophie's glasses, and then there was....

Blackness.

There was no sound, no fire, just silence. Sophie was in some type of limbo. The blackness lightened into a thick gray fog. There were swirls and puffs in the smoke. This was the canvas upon which the wizard began to paint with his elegant power.

Sophie expected a nuclear explosion. What she got was...

Music.