“Hey, no, keep the aggro. Tee, what the fuck are you doing! Stomp, I need you to manage your taunts. Now! Before we wipe!”

Working my UI as fast as my fingers would move, I managed to cast the right spell.

[Saints shield - Level 5]

As one, every single enemy turned towards me. Despite the terrible graphics, I could see their eyes bore into my soul. Nothing between me and them but a flimsy, albeit high level, set of cloth armour.

[Litany of insults - Level 8]

I exhale as the enemies turn towards Stomp. That was too close. Focusing on my healing spell, I target Rach. A surprisingly good tactician, she’d been out of sorts today. Out of position a lot of the time, picking the wrong attacks, performing them poorly. At least with Stomps daily deployed, we’d have time to breathe and recover from the onslaught.

[Flurry of blades - Level 4]

A dervish with daggers, Rain had had enough. She must have noticed Rachs behaviour too. In short order, every grubby little goblin soldier lies dead at our feet. The experience gain is negligible. At our levels, nothing short of epic quest rewards are enough to shift our exp bars. I heal and rebuff our members as Stomp approaches Rach. Her avatar, a slim elf with shimmering white hair and green almond eyes, is staring glassily into the darkness. The goblin caves are the first step on a mythic quest. The darkness this early in the chain shouldn’t hide anything we can’t handle. I finish my casting and join the others standing around Rach, talking to her. She’s responding much more slowly than normal. Even with her wasting sickness, this is unusual. Without warning, Rain goes still. I look at Stomp and he nods, going still. Emergency log out procedures? I hurry to do the same, the colours of the real world rushing back into my view.

—

The funeral was cold and hard. A terrible send off for a decent human who never got the chance she deserved. She didn’t have a lot of money, so we placed the urn in a cheap columbarium. We decorated the niche with what little we had of her. A photo of her from before the sickness changed her appearance. A group photo of our little adventuring troupe from our first real victory together, posing over a vanquished Silverfog Drake. Her favourite mug. I didn’t cry. Neither did Rishi. Mika had tears streaming down his face from the moment we left the apartment that day. We all loved Rachel, and we tried to respect her wish that we didn’t make her interment a sad experience. I made it back to the autocar before I broke down. Rishi just hugged us both, swearing under her breath at the cruelty of it all.

—

Coming to Roger Littles bar was anticlimactic. It drove home the banality of death, how everyone kept going the way they had the day before. Roger himself commiserated with us, raising a glass to her, pouring one out for her. Then he continued on his daily routine, serving the various customers in need of drink or solace.

A drink in sorrow turned into a drink for remembrance. Another drink for the good times turned into one for karaoke. Together, we sang and cried her favourite songs until the bar closed and we were forced to go home. Me and Rishi had to carry Mika the last few metres to our apartment door. For a big lad, he had no tolerance for alcohol. Lying in the darkness, both of us in the same bed, we made mistakes we’d promised never to do. All to fend off the meaninglessness for a few more minutes. Afterwards, we stared into the darkness, wondering what she had seen there.

“Taran, what the fuck are we going to do?”

A chill went down my spine at the words. Did she want this to be more than it was? I was torn between sputtering nonsense and pretending to sleep when she continued.

“They're going to evict us in a month. Without the job as her guardians, we have no business staying in a flat like this.”

I tried not to exhale too loudly as she turned towards me, her head on my arm, dark hair flowing behind her.

“I hate it. It’s too soon to be thinking about this, but we need another source of income, quick.”

I stroke her naked back absentmindedly. Skin and bone. I squeeze her closer.

“We could try to monetize our adventures. I mean, we’re strong enough to do some epic stuff now. We could vlog it, do tours for rich simpletons or..”

She slaps my chest, interrupting me.

“That won’t work! There isn’t a market for the services we can provide. Othalmon online is going to shut down in the next few years, and all our hard work will go with it. We need to think bigger.”

Afraid of another slap, I stay silent.

“What we need is a new world to adventure in. Remember the ad I brought home the other day? That Permacor game? I think it’s called Below or something. It’s been out for a year already, and it’s going strong. I think we could make a business in a world like that.”

I consider it. The world Below has been in the news lately, buying up competitors. Not a bad idea, except..

“We can’t afford the immersion tech.”

She grabs my left nipple, twisting it. The pain radiates through me, clearing my head. It’s all I can do to shut up and not scream. I look over to Mika to see if he’s noticed anything, but the giant man is oblivious to the universe.

“Don’t be a dumbass, you’re supposed to be our numbers guy, remember? We sell our old accounts and the kit we have now. I’m sure we can get three sets of equipment, especially when we sell..”

She swallows hard. I understand what she means, so I finish her sentence.

“When we sell Rachels stuff.”

My soul sinks to the floor. The thought is nearly sacrilegious, but she’s right. The numbers add up if we get second hand equipment. Rachel had no one else. She’d want us to do this. A dozen justifications welled up in my mind as I ran down my lists. It took a moment to realise she was coming on to me again. We made more mistakes we promised never to do that night. Throughout it all I couldn’t stop myself thinking about how I should tell her, tell them both. I didn’t want to do it anymore.

—

I spent a few days researching the forums. The world Below was a new game, growing at an impressive rate. The best projections I could access showed that they would have more players than any other game in another two years. In six, most other games would be deserted. In ten, there would be more people playing it than were alive at the moment. I catch myself before I continued extrapolating the data. Rachel would have thrown something at me by now as soon as she noticed I’d gotten stuck. This all looks promising, especially my private project.

I was so sick of the life of a healer. Always being shouted at when things went poorly, ignored when things went well. Everyone had input on my character development choices. Even in our little group I’d faced attitudes when the chips were down. They seemed to expect me to pick up a similar role in this new world, but I wasn’t having it anymore. I had to finalise my new money making venture in this strange and fantastic world.

The game boasted an adaptive algorithm, maintained by advanced expert systems called Affinities. The affinities would balance the forces of the world against each other and modify the rules to maximise player enjoyment. This resulted in a bewildering array of options on how to play the game. There were NPC kingdoms around the world, with more being discovered every few days. The landmass was vast, each continent separated by large oceans. There had yet to be any indication from the devs on how large the game would eventually be. And through it all, it seemed nobody wanted to put in the hard work. Everyone wanted to be an adventurer, killing monsters by day and drinking themselves stupid by night. Coupled with the slow regeneration of the npcs, this meant two things. There wasn’t enough raw resources to fill the needs of the world, and there was an opportunity for someone who had a bit of business sense. I wanted to be that someone.

I could hear the voices of people approaching from outside. Closing down my spreadsheets, I went to open the door for them.

“Don’t you dare drop the boxes you god damn ox. These things cost more than we’d make selling your kidneys on the market, so you’re gonna lose a lot more if you break anything.”

Mika nearly tumbles through the door as I open it. I can feel a bad pain in my arms as I move to catch him, nearly getting squished in the process.

“I gotcha buddy. Rish, grab the one that’s about to fall, hurry!”

The chaos ensuing leaves us all out of breath. They managed to get what I sent them out for. Three used FIVR headsets, a modded processing unit optimised for three people, and a credit token for the old hardlink interface. With this, we’d be set for the next three weeks. After that, We’d either be able to renew our lease, or we’d be kicked out of our home. Rishi brought out the long term immersion bed covers we’d managed to find cheap. She was a decent tech when she wanted to be. The only reason she wasn’t employed anywhere was that expert systems could do what she could do much more cheaply. It’s the same reason none of us were employed. Accountants like me were more or less extinct. Only the ones who grew up with powerful connections could be employed these days. Mika, an artist, was worse off than all of us. Nobody wanted human art anymore. Procedurally generated art by the most advanced expert systems, weak AI’s, was the only kind of art that sold anymore.

“Right, so I’m hooking up the nutrient solution, the electrolyte fluids and the immersion drugs. I still think we should have gotten the ones Buffo had to sell. Improved cognitive function would be an excellent boost in a game like this.”

The place looked like a makeshift hospital now. While they were out, I’d been sterilising the place to prevent infections while we were under.

“I already told you, those drugs are against the terms of service. The ones I wrote down for you are perfectly legal. Without them, we’ll all atrophy by the time we get back out. Now go check the electrics and hardlink. We don’t want a power outage with this kind of gear.”

Sighing theatrically, she went outside to check on the utilities closet. Mika is sitting in front of the computer, putting the final touches on our website. An interactive gateway to our in-game browsers, letting us upload content, reply to our fans and manage our online presence without exiting.

“Looking good dude. You’re a true artist.”

I patted his back, but he didn’t respond. His posture seemed sullen, hunched over. Probably just nerves.

“I will clean up and get ready for the dive. You’re up next, then Rishi last. Don’t forget to use the flushing pills before you shower.”

He grunts in reply, and I go to prepare.

The process was wildly unpleasant. Two little pills with a litre of water. Shower. Cover my hairiest bits with a removal gel. Wait five minutes for it to work, shower it all off, then clean the floor. It wasn’t particularly long hair, but I was fond of it. The only positives about it was that I’d get to see both Rishi and Mika bald as coots. I enjoyed that thought for ten or so seconds before the little pills took effect, and everything evacuated my body at once. This wasn’t how most people entered the game, only the ones on a budget who wanted a long immersion.

Another shower later and I made my way out to the others. Naked as the day I was born, without a single hair anywhere, I looked like an alien. Rishi turned to look at me, then fell to the ground laughing, nearly passing out from lack of oxygen. Mika is unable to suppress a laugh before he heads into the shower to go through the same as I had.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing at. You’re going to be in the same state in a few minutes.”

She dries a tear as she stands up, trying to maintain eye contact.

“You look like a plucked chicken!”

Another bout of laughing as she goes off to check on the equipment one more time. I take another look at my calculations before logging off my account. Soon, Mika comes back from the bathroom. Nobody laughs. If anything, he’s more imposing than ever, heavily muscled, thighs like trunks. Rishi elbows me in the side as she walks past me, grinning all the way to the bathroom.

“I saw your spreadsheets.”

Mika lies down on his bed, adjusting the equipment until it’s all in place.

“Yeah? It’s how I keep my data ordered. What about it?”

He turns to look at me, a serious look in his eyes.

“I’ve seen you work before. You’re predictable when it comes to data. You’re not going to go along with the plan, are you?”

I swallow hard, looking at him in alarm.

“I don’t..”

He holds up a hand to interrupt me.

“It’s your business dude. I’m going to follow the one we agreed to. I think Rishi will want to. You know her soul calls for adventure. But if you ask her to, she’ll stay with you..”

The shower starts in the bathroom as I take a deep breath.

“I know. I’ll let her know when we meet up below. I can’t take it anymore. Please don’t hate me.”

He gets up, ruining his setup. Standing right next to my bed, I try not to stare at his junk, nearly in my face. He leans down and punches me in the shoulder, hard.

“Not gonna hate you, shrimp. I’m disappointed, but I respect you. Besides, you wouldn’t do anything without thinking it through. Rish is going to be pissed for a while though. If you want to salvage anything with her, you’ll need to get your shit together and make money fast.”

I nod, rubbing my shoulder as he returns to his bed. The shower stops and we turn on some music before the grunting starts. Soon enough, she walks into the room, as naked as the rest of us. So thin we can nearly see through her. Pale skin stretched over ribs. Neither of us laugh at her. A quick check later, we begin the submersion process. Mika goes under first, the processing unit whirring up under the sudden load. Rishi reaches out to me, touching my hand.

“See you down there?”

I grab her hand and squeeze, feeling her go limp as she engages the system. I place her hand at her side so she won’t be damaged before I pull on the headset, letting myself fall into the complete darkness.