Three days after his test at the Prowlers’ hideout, Matt found himself crouched atop a very tall tower.

“'It’ll be fun,’ he said,” Matt groused as he inched closer to the edge. “'Just like those old assassin games,’ he said.” Matt shook his head and grimaced. “Except if I fall in this game, it’s going to hurt. A LOT! And I don’t have any wings.” To make matters worse, he had to scale up above the target window because Stoffel said there were no handholds on the window side of the tower. This added extra distance, but more than that it meant the additional effort of going up over the roof once, and then down the other side. Matt’s left foot slipped as a loose shingle gave way and then skittered out to take flight over the edge. Matt’s heart took more than a few seconds to return to its normal pace.

Matt had never liked heights in life. Turned out that VR heights affected him pretty much the same; shallow breathing, the threat of a fall looming from front row seat in his mind and shouting at him, and the unsure, nervous shaking of limbs. It was a wonder he’d ever made it to the top at all. The only real saving grace was that his avatar’s palms couldn’t sweat. Otherwise he’d probably still be at the bottom.

“Come on Matt, you can do this. It’s just pixels and stuff. Your real body is totally safe.” He moved a half foot, scooting down the roof toward the edge and then stopped as his brow furrowed into a knot. Is my body safe? The notion that he hadn’t the foggiest clue whether his body was safe, stuffed in a freezer somewhere, or just sitting upright in a weird cubicle like a grotesque remake of Weekend at Bernie’s, suddenly hit him harder than it had for a while.

How many total days had he been in the system?

Was the company supplying nutrition through an I.V. perhaps?

He frowned.

How, exactly, was his body performing bathroom functions? He shivered with pain, remembering the sight of his grandfather in a hospital bed once as a catheter for the urine bag was removed. Not a pretty sight. Suddenly, the pain of falling from a tower in a VR game no longer seemed scary by comparison.

Matt found his courage and scaled the roof the rest of the way to the edge. He peered over the side, seeing a four hundred foot drop which ended in a moat. “Maybe the water would break my fall,” Matt commented, hoping it would calm his nerves as his hands were starting to shake again.

He tested a few hand holds along the roof’s rim. There was no gutter or fancy brass drain pipe to cling to. Just the slate tiles that seemed far too flimsy to hold much more than rain water and the occasional bird. When he had a good hold, he slowly dropped his head over the edge to get a closer look at the window. Just as he’d hoped, the window was open and the study it led to was deserted.

Now it was a matter of gracefully swinging into the open window and landing with style.

Matt repositioned himself into a modified crouch with his hands at the edge of the roof locked in a death grip on two seemingly secure roof tiles and his feet as close to his hands as he could get. The idea was to do a sort of reverse kipping pull up and use his momentum to get into the window. He’d never attempt something like this IRL, but he figured the game physics would aid him where his real genetics had let him down all his life.

“One.” Matt took in a deep breath.

“Two...”

“THREE!”

His feet didn’t move. His shoulders sort of swayed a bit as if half expecting to catch his weight in a hang, but overall he remained motionless.

“That was anti-climactic,” Matt said. “If Stoffel was here...” Matt glanced around for any sign of the imp. Not that he’d see through any invisibility spell Stoffel might be using, but that didn’t stop him from scanning the roof line all the same. “Come on. Stop embarrassing yourself. Just jump already!”

Matt counted down again.

This time his feet launched down and around the roof’s edge. The tiles held firm as he swung, aiming his feet for the open window some six feet below his position. At the innermost degree of swing, he let go with his hands and let his momentum carry him toward the large, wide-open window. He smiled as he flew through the air.

I did it! I really... Matt’s elation was short lived as he realized he’d put too much emphasis on swinging, and not enough on core stability, or figuring out his foot placement. His feet shot through the opening as his body tipped so that he was fully horizontal, with his back parallel to the floor. Trouble was, there was nothing to catch himself on, so he broke his fall by slamming the middle of his spine on the thick window sill and then bouncing into the study.

His eyes shot wide and his breath was forced from him in a fiery explosion of force that nearly bent him in half. He rolled along the wooden floor, mouth open as if to moan, but due to lack of air no sounds emerged from him. He wallowed on the floor in this strange, silent fish pose for several moments until his air came flooding back into him and he found the will to try and push up to his knees.

A full fifty percent of his hit points were gone. He struggled to his feet and looked around. Stoffel had sent him for a small silver box.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” Stoffel had said.

Noting that there were no fewer than seven boxes made of silver throughout the study, Matt sighed. “I hate you Stoffel, and I don’t care if you’re floating nearby with your invisibility spell. My back hurts, and all the boxes look exactly the same.” Two were on the desk, one sat on a table in the center of the room, one on a small book stand near the door, and the last three were spread out on top of one of the bookshelves. They were all completely identical, right down to the strange dragon mouth that acted as a key hole.

Matt moved to the desk and picked up the first box in both hands. It was heavier than he’d expected. He stuffed it into his inventory and watched a full twenty percent of his encumbrance fill up.

“Of course,” Matt whined. “At this rate I can take four. Or... technically I can take five but then I won’t be able to run.” He glanced to the window. Could he climb while encumbered? Probably not, but the wizard was supposed to be off to one of the major cities, so as long as Matt snuck by any lingering servants, he could take the slow route down the stairs and just walk out the front door.

Trouble was, which five boxes should he take? He set the first box down and grabbed the second, inspecting its weight and giving it a shake. Something thick and heavy clunked around inside. It definitely wasn’t a liquid judging by the sound and feel of it. It didn’t clink like coins either, but felt to heavy to be wood or ivory. Maybe it was some sort of gold or platinum ingot. He decided to move and inspect the box near the door next. Perhaps the box he was looking for would feel differently when shaken, or make a noticeably different sound.

He walked ten feet across the room and stretched his hand out to grab the box.

WHAM!

Matt caught a face full of solid oak door. His vision blurred and a yellow pop up notice told him he was dazed.

I noticed. Matt fell backward to land on his rump.

In walked two diminutive humanoids, each clad in dark red leather outfits with thick cowls over their faces.

“What was that?” a shrill voice asked as the pair came around the door and looked down at Matt.

“Think it’s a guard?” a slightly less shrill, though no less grating, voice asked. Matt was having trouble focusing on the pair due to his dazed status, and he was unable to move.

“I dunno,” the first said.

“Well... should I kill it?”

Why do they keep calling me ‘it.’

A silver flash emerged and a searing pain ripped through Matt’s left ribs.

“GAH!” Matt shouted. He jerked away from the dagger, crumpling into the nearby wall and whimpering as his HP drained another tenth.

“Kill it Futuke, KILL IT!”

“I’m trying Haterate!”

Another flash of the dagger and Matt watched as his HP dropped again.

His vision cleared and the dazed status faded away.

“That’s it!” Matt shouted. He smacked the assailant’s wrist and drove the clumsy stab away.

Matt summoned a fireball. It retrospect, he’d have thought of a different spell, but caught in the moment as he was, he just latched onto the first spell he could think of. An orange sphere of hissing fire roared to life and launched from Matt’s palm. It flew only about ten inches before striking the enemy’s chest and exploding. Both of them were knocked backward, Matt again slamming into the wall while still sitting on his butt.

“FUTUKE!” Haterate shouted. Enraged, the second creature ripped its cowl from its hideous green face and bared its yellow, pointed teeth. “FOR FUTUKE!” Haterate rushed in with a club.

Matt, his sleeves still smoking from the fireball, summoned mythic dagger and managed to parry, then he executed a rather graceless somersault and pushed up to his feet. Now with Futuke on his left and Haterate on his right, he wasn’t certain if his maneuver put him in a better position strategically, but at least he was on his feet.

“HATERATE!” Futuke snarled and then lunged at Matt with the dagger.

Matt backpedaled quickly and fired Mythic Arrow at Futuke. The irate goblin managed to dodge the spell and then slammed a small ceramic ball on the floor. Black smoke filled the area around the goblin. Matt kept running backward, but in his haste to out pace the smoke, he stumbled over a small stool and went flying into a bookshelf along the back wall.

Haterate was there just a moment later and the club came down fast and hard.

Matt was seeing stars and definitely dazed again.

The smoke filled the rest of the room as Matt took one final blow to the face.

Matt, only a sliver of HP remaining in his flashing red bar, got on all fours and crawled as quickly as he could. Being dazed made him stumble more than once, and a few times he couldn’t actually move his limbs, but somehow he managed to escape Haterate’s club.

When he bumped into the far corner of the room, Matt curled up into the fetal position and waited. He didn’t have any spells for healing, nor did he have any potions. He couldn’t wait to hear Stoffel’s remarks after the goblins finished him off. Matt could hear it now.

“A pair of what?” Stoffel would say. “You survived the Prowler’s hideout only to die at the hands of one of the feeblest races known to all mankind?”

Matt waited for death to find him, but instead it sounded like the goblins ran out the door, slamming it behind them. By the time his dazed status faded away, the smoke was gone too.

So were all seven silver boxes!

“No, no, no, no, no!” Matt could take the ridicule for dying, he could even absorb another freakishly tall climb up the tower, but he couldn’t accept losing the boxes. Stoffel wouldn’t forgive him if the box he sought got away. “FUTUKE!” Matt shouted as he charged the doorway and prepared his spells. He ripped the door open and sprinted through the small foyer-like room just outside, getting to the stairs that clung to the tower’s wall as they curved downward and peered over the side. He could just see the goblins dart under a hatch and pull it closed over them.

Matt ran down the stairs, an eye on his stamina bar and the other on the hatch. The flashing red HP bar told him he should approach this methodically, but he knew wasting any amount of time would result in losing the boxes. He stood behind the hatch and pulled it up, using the hatch itself as cover. A crossbow bolt slammed into the hatch and one more flew up through the opening.

“Stay away filthy human!” Haterate snarled.

Matt threw his left hand over the hatch and shot a fireball downward. He could tell by the ensuing shrieks and thumping feet that he’d managed to startle them, but the spell hadn’t caused either of them any damage. He took a peek over the hatch and then descended the ladder. Knowing that the game wasn’t sophisticated enough to give him rope burn (ladder burn?) he stuck his feet on the outside of the ladder for balance and barely held on with his right hand as he slid down ridiculously fast. He summoned another fireball in his left hand and haphazardly threw it at the next stairwell where the goblins were headed.

Haterate took a flambet haircut and slammed into the wall, grunting and shouting some sort of goblin word that Matt was certain would require a censor if he could fully understand it.

Futuke wheeled around, crossbow in hand, and fired.

Matt pulled off a matrix-style dodge, bending over backwards as the bolt sailed over his face just close enough to shave with. Unlike the matrix, Matt flumped onto the ground, unable to right himself after such a move. Futuke hissed and then slipped a hand under Haterate’s armpit and the two started down the stairs.

Matt slammed his fist on the ground and jumped up. He ran for the railing instead of the top stair. He figured it wasn’t so far to jump if he made the leap over the guard rail, and with any luck he’d land on top of the two thieves. He cleared the rail and dropped effortlessly. This time, luck was on his side. Futuke had stopped to kneel and aim at the top of the stairs. Neither of them had expected a maniacal leap from twelve feet above.

FAWUMP!

All three crashed to the ground and started rolling down the stairs. The initial impact, cushioned by the goblins’ squealing and cracking bodies, did nothing to Matt, but the crashing tumble did budge his HP a smidge closer to death.

Matt summoned Mythic Dagger and drove it through Haterate’s left eye before the goblins could recover.

“HA! It isn’t so fun when you’re the one who is dazed is it!?” Laughing at the irony, Matt turned to Futuke and went to summon another fireball.

Nothing happened.

Matt cursed himself mentally for not noticing his mana. It was too low to cast anything.

Futuke, who was getting to his feet about two yards away, took one look at Haterate and then snarled menacingly.

Matt snatched up Haterate’s crossbow and fired. The quarrel struck Futuke in the shoulder, causing him to drop his own crossbow. The goblin hissed, threw another smoke bomb, and ran away.

Matt searched Haterate for more quarrels, reloaded the crossbow, and then waded into the smoke. He focused his ears, trying to catch the slightest sound. He never did find Futuke, and the goblin had disappeared by the time the smoke cleared. Matt considered giving chase, but then again Haterate had some of the boxes. Better to show up with something rather than totally empty handed.

He looted Haterate’s body and found three silver boxes, a portion of cheese, which he promptly ate to restore some HP, and a club. The club wasn’t really worth keeping, but Matt took it anyway out of spite. He then finished descending the stairs. By the time he found the front door, it was wide open and there was no trace of the goblin.

Matt hiked five miles west of the tower to the arranged meeting place in an aspen grove. He found a few mountain berries along the way and downed those as quickly as he found them, nudging his HP up by a meager five percent. He then spent the next three hours trying to figure out how to open the boxes. When that failed, he shook them and made guesses as to what was inside. Then, just when he was about to grab a large stone and try smashing one of the boxes open, Stoffel appeared.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Stoffel shouted.

Matt stood over the silver box, mini-boulder in hand high above his head. “Ummm...”

“Don’t you have any idea what’s in that?” Stoffel asked.

Matt shook his head. “You didn’t tell me. You just said it was important.”

Stoffel flew in like a hawk, snatching up the box and then landing on a branch too high up for Matt to hit with the heavy rock. “The contents of this box are the key to our victory.”

Matt hucked the rock aside, which mushed a patch of shrooms and kicked up a bit of moss as it crashed down. “Wait, are there soul crystals in there?”

Stoffel smiled. “No, my friend, not soul siphon crystals. Something even better.”

“Better?” Matt shrieked. “What’s better than soul siphon crystals?”

“A dragon shard,” Stoffel said with a smile. “I have one of these boxes back at the safe house already. This one makes two.” Stoffel caressed the box softly and then must have tucked it into his inventory, because it disappeared. “IF you had struck it hard enough, it could have exploded with enough force to wipe out everything within a five mile radius.”

Matt’s jaw fell open. “So, it’s like this game’s version of a nuke?”

Stoffel nodded. “Something like that. Only, the odds are much higher that you simply would have damaged it and broken it, which would be a shame, because there are only nine of these boxes in the game.”

Matt cocked his head to the side. “Wait... are all of the dragon shards in boxes that look exactly like that one?”

Stoffel nodded. “Yep, they’re all identical. There are nine of them in total. Each one on its own is immensely powerful, but all nine together would be a literal game changer, pardon the pun.”

Matt started laughing. Now it was Stoffel’s turn to look confused.

“What’s the matter?”

Matt retrieved the other two from his inventory, holding one in each hand.

“Holy--” Stoffel was zapped by the auto censor, but he shrugged it off and flew down to inspect the other two boxes. “Matt... how did you... where did you...” Stoffel looked up and locked eyes with him.

“Besides these, I have a lead on four more.”

“WHAT?!” Stoffel fluttered backward as if blown on the wind as he slapped a hand to his forehead. “The other hackers said it would take years to find them all...”

Matt chuckled again and lightly bounced the boxes in his hands. “All right Stoffel, I want a raise.”