Carey Walsh opened his eyes to find himself gazing at a patch of clear blue sky framed by the boughs of tall trees standing over him. So peaceful here. A cool wind gusted over his body, and he was soothed by the gentle whisper of shuffling leaves. Was he back on the island? No—the trees weren’t tropical, but more like the ones back in New Hampshire. Maybe he was back home? Maybe this had all been a nightmare?

“Hello?” he called out. “Anyone? What is this?”

You like virtual reality? Sam’s words replayed through his mind. I have just the game for you, Carey Walsh.

Just the game for you.

Could it be? Could all of this be a game? Just code?

But it felt so real!

He blinked several more times before chancing a look around. Unlike waking from regular sleep, he didn’t sense any of those obnoxious crusties in the corners of his eyes. His mouth didn’t taste stale or sour. There was no grogginess, fogginess, or need to gather his wits.

As he pushed himself into a sitting position, he took stock of the way his arms moved, his muscles flexed, his lungs continued to draw air. No superpowers that he could identify, but no weaknesses, either. Overall, he felt pretty good.

He looked around and saw nothing but forest. Immediately, he noticed something strange in his peripheral vision. He was hesitant to look down.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

He examined his body. Same pudgy midsection, pale skin, hairy legs—all of which he saw, in stark relief, because he was practically naked and dressed only in a pair of pale undershorts.

“Is this some kinda joke?” he asked, looking up at the sky.

He got up and brushed dirt off his ass and back. It was likely all players started off this way. But why would they send him here with absolutely nothing? Couldn’t he have started with a basic shirt and pants, carrying a basic sword?

“Hello?” he called out again.

The day was gradually dimming. The cool wind carried a chill now. He hugged himself and shivered.

“Hello? Anyone?”

He turned around, squinting to see into the distance beyond the trees, and then he noticed an interesting development: he no longer had to squint. Since childhood, Carey had been near-sighted—not bad enough that he needed glasses or had trouble driving without them, but just enough that he struggled to read distant signs and sometimes had to squint at the TV.

Not anymore.

His vision was perfect—20/20 or better. It made the natural surroundings that much prettier to look at.

Yet he only now noticed the sign next to him. Made of a single wooden plank shaped like an arrow and nailed to a wooden pole, it had two words written in black paint.

STARTER HUT

Carey glanced along the direction indicated by the plank’s arrowed end. It led deeper into the forest.

I need armor, he thought. And a sword. ASAP.

Looking down, he saw that a subtle path had been made through the grass and forest, leading away from the sign and toward the Starter Hut.

A tiny icon blinked in the corner of his vision. He hadn’t noticed it before, but it must have appeared when he first stumbled across the sign.

“I’ll be damned.”

The icon brightened as he focused on it. A small box with a symbol of a thick book opening. It seemed to want Carey to press or activate it in some way.

Come on, open up.

All it took was a single thought. The symbol slid to the center of his vision, expanding into a notification box. The text filled the bluish, semi-transparent space, scrolling upward as he took in every line, stopping whenever he chose to re-read a sentence.

Impressive.

Greetings, adventurer!

Welcome to Luminether Online’s Main Quest, which will lead you through the dangerous and exotic lands of Astros as you embark on a journey to defeat the Low Order and become the hero the realm desperately needs!

MAIN QUEST 1.1 – EVERY JOURNEY BEGINS WITH A SINGLE HUT

Recommended Level: 0

Enter the Starter Hut and open the supply chest within. Arm yourself with the clothing and weapon found inside. Then, search the grounds for a dropped Araband left behind by the Traveling Merchant (and don’t forget to say Hi!). Acquire the Araband through any means necessary—and equip it!

XP REWARD: 200

Carey recognized the term “XP.” It was used in videogames to represent “Experience Points,” which a player gained in order to “level up” and progress their abilities.

A newer, smaller notification box appeared in front of the first.

ACCEPT QUEST: Yes OR No?

“This can’t be happening,” Carey said.

All he had to do was mentally sound out the word Yes to accept.

He continued along the path, gaping like a child in the world’s biggest toy store. As he swiveled his head to take in his surroundings, he noticed subtle details about the game world that left him shaking his head in awe.

Orange, winged insects landed on leaves before igniting in tiny explosions of fire that sent them zipping back through the air like tiny meteors; a colony of ants emerging from an anthill’s spout attacked a family of bouncing spiders by shooting tiny sparks from their mandibles; pocket-sized, dragon-like creatures released ear-piercing shrieks before flapping away on leathery wings; and finally, there were the birds. All manner of exotic, multicolored birds shot from branch to branch, emitting song-like mating calls and darting above Carey’s head like confetti shot from tiny cannons.

“Okay, Starter Hut,” Carey said aloud, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. “Where are you?”

He began to jog lightly up the path. Incredibly, a green meter appeared in the lower left corner of his vision, dim at first but bright whenever he chose to look at it. Carey almost stopped but kept running when he realized it was changing in response to his movements.

A Stamina bar.

65 points total.

He ran faster. The bar depleted even more quickly.

After a full 15 seconds of running at top speed, he glanced again at the bar. 52 points remaining, still at about 80 percent. Another minute and a half of running like that, and the bar would be empty.

Luckily, it refilled gradually over time.

Back in the real world, running for 15 seconds would have left Carey breathless. Here, he felt perfectly fine, though he had no idea what depleting the Stamina bar down to zero percent would do to him. He’d have to test it out later, after he geared up.

When it was back to 100 percent, the bar disappeared. Carey found that he could bring it up at will. All he had to do was think about it and the bar would emerge, semi-transparent until he chose to examine it more closely, at which point it would solidify and brighten.

But what about his Health bar?

As soon as the thought popped into his head, a red bar appeared. It flared when he looked at it.

Full Health.

“Awesome.”

The only other bar he could think of was mana. But that one failed to appear, probably because he hadn’t chosen a spellcasting class yet. Or he needed to reach some level or milestone first.

However, two other icons appeared in his vision. One was a cartoonish stomach the color of… well, a stomach. The other was a bluish water drop symbol. He could tell by the coloring that they were both completely full, though he knew they would become less full over time. Having played enough survival games in his life, Carey understood they represented hunger and thirst and that he would have to refill them by eating and drinking.

What other features could he summon? He took a moment to remember his favorite RPGs and survival simulators. Other standard HUD elements usually included a mini-map and compass. Also necessary were quest markers of some sort, to tell a player where to go.

Yes!

The circular mini-map appeared in the upper right corner of his vision, showing a hand-drawn rendering of the surrounding trees, the footpath a thin brown line cutting through it. The mini-map came complete with a compass that slid along its rounded edge whenever Carey turned his body in a circle, always fixed on its destination.

Right now, a golden arrow of a quest marker pointed him toward the Starter Hut.

The notification box popped up.

Congratulations, adventurer!

You have unlocked the HUD (Heads-Up Display). Your Health, Stamina, and Luminether bars are necessary to monitor your status and plan your next action.

The mini-map in the upper-right corner will assist with navigation. The quest markers—which can be disabled by speaking the command “Disable Quest Markers”—should point you in the right direction.

The Starter Hut is just up ahead. Good luck!

“Uh, thanks,” Carey said. “Now go away.”

The notification box disappeared.

A second later, Carey’s bare foot smashed against something hard.

“Son of a bitch!”

He fell away from the footpath, landing on leaves and twigs. The pain from a stubbed big toe was almost realistic—just enough to be unpleasant, but not as severe as it would have been in real life. Pain was muted in the game, but it still caused serious discomfort and was to be avoided at all costs.

He clutched his right foot and studied the toe. Probably wasn’t broken. But that raised the question: could a limb be broken in this world? Or were all injuries simply rendered as changes to the Health bar?

Speaking of which, the Health bar had brightened as soon as he’d stubbed his toe. It looked to have lost a tiny sliver of red. Carey focused on the bar until it swelled, becoming bigger than the others. Silvery numbers appeared above it.

99/100

He’d lost one Health Point. Watching the bar a few seconds longer, he realized with a sinking sensation that Health did not recover automatically. He’d have to drink a Health potion or whatever else passed in this world for a recovery aid.

“Stupid rock,” he said, eyeing it threateningly.

It was just a regular, grimy stone half-buried in the dirt, probably placed there by some clever designer to school players on how HP worked.

That damned symbol was blinking again. He opened the notification box, aware that sometimes, it opened on its own to convey necessary information. In this case, he had to open it manually, probably because it wasn’t so important that it merited something more intrusive.

Ouch, that hurt!

You have lost one Health Point. Restore your HP by drinking Nectar potions—but stay away from Nectarwine! You can also restore small amounts over time by eating food. Sleep in beds or at campsites for a full recovery.

If your Health Points decrease to zero—

“Yeah, yeah,” Carey said, dismissing the box with a wave.

Walking further, he finally entered a large clearing. A small hut sat in the center, about fifty yards away.

“Here we go, I guess.”

He blew air through his lips and approached his destination.

A noise like flapping wings rose above him. He thrust his head back, arms shooting up protectively as a shadow slid over him and something large descended.

“Whoa, now!”

It wasn’t Carey who’d spoken, but a man with a much gruffer voice. Carey was too busy crouching with his arms shielding his head to do much more than hope for the best.

The flapping noise was right above him, claws reaching for him...

But whatever the creature was, it had no intention of attacking Carey—or anyone, for that matter. There were also no claws except in his imagination. Hooves, rather. The creature landed between him and the Starter Hut.

Panting as adrenaline flooded his veins, Carey rose to a standing position. He studied the creature—which was white as milk and resembled an abnormally long and slender horse, except with wings!—then warily eyed the man seated atop it.

“Sorry about that,” the rider said, wincing shamefully as he dismounted the creature. “She’s not used to visitors.”

The man ran a hand through his thick, wind-tousled black hair and sighed as though it had been a long journey and he was glad to be on stable ground. He was dressed in a simple tunic that looked modified to cover both shoulders, probably to keep him warm during flight. Carey couldn’t help but marvel at the astounding level of detail he could see. The tunic was threadbare in some parts and slightly yellowed from extensive use. The man’s feet were even grimy, clad in a pair of thin sandals that looked worn from many trips.

“Are you the Traveling Merchant?” Carey asked him.

The man glanced at Carey as he pulled a rolled-up pack off the creature, his gaze curious but also somewhat suspicious. He looked to be in his forties, though it was hard to tell; unlike a person from the real world, his skin and facial features looked oddly drawn and painted, too perfect to be realistic skin.

“That’s me,” he said, slinging the pack over one shoulder as he approached.

Even his movements were subtly unrealistic, just enough to notice if one tried, but not enough to break a player’s immersion. If the name “Traveling Merchant” didn’t give it away, then other details did: this was an NPC, a “Non-Player Character,” a soulless chunk of code crafted by the developers and rendered by the computer’s processor and video card.

“You’re a merchant,” Carey said, puffing up his chest, “and yet, you’re dressed in rags like a peasant?”

If the man was indeed computer-generated, he wouldn’t feel a thing, probably wouldn’t even know how to respond to such an insult.

Or not.

“You’re quite right,” the merchant said, his brow furrowing, a look almost like real shame tightening his features as he glanced down at the ground. “Times are tough, with the Low Order attacking ships and making levathon travel dangerous. Wholesale prices go up, customers get nervous—”

“Wait,” Carey said. “Did I just hurt your feelings?”

“Well...” The merchant’s expression changed to one of embarrassment. “I guess I just didn’t expect such an acute observation from an esteemed adventurer like yourself. But if it’s clothes you’re interested in, you’ll want to see my stock. I save the good stuff for my clients.”

He eyed Carey up and down, and suddenly Carey realized just how naked he was, which made his insult from a moment ago seem ridiculous.

“You are...almost naked, after all,” the merchant added. “Which leads me to believe that whoever robbed you also took your coin. If that’s the case, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Not a problem, my good man.” Carey waved away his concern, already wondering if pickpocketing the NPC was possible this early in the game. “Allow me to see your wares.”

The man shrugged and unslung his pack. “Sure thing. I’ll even give you a ten percent ‘new customer’ discount. How’s that?”

He unrolled the pack with a flourish. Carey expected a “store” interface to pop up on his HUD, but the designers had chosen instead to have items-for-sale take up space in three dimensions, their prices rendered as floating text beneath each one, the wares situated against the unrolled pack itself.

The merchant was carrying more items than could realistically fit inside, which caused an interesting problem with an even more interesting solution. The unrolled pack now served as a sort of metaphysical non-space where the laws of physics did not apply. Carey found he could scroll through the various items against an infinite track simply by waving his hand. The pack’s unrolled fabric served visually as the background.

There were only about a dozen items, including a Bronze Short Sword, which he wanted but couldn’t afford, and basic clothes he would probably get anyway from the Starter Hut. The most interesting items were two enchanted tunics, one which restored one HP every ten minutes and another which restored one LP—Luminether Point?—every five minutes. There were also a few Healing potions and some fruit and Nectarwine bottles. The Nectarwine had a nice restorative effect on HP but decreased SP—Stamina Points—dramatically, while also reducing the Luck and Wisdom attributes by 5 points for one hour. However, like any good booze, it upped Charisma, which could be useful when dealing with merchants and guards.

He would have killed for a nice strong drink right now.

“That, uh, Nectarwine,” Carey said, avoiding the merchant’s eyes. “Any chance you could give me one for free? Since I’m a new customer who just got here and all.”

“Sorry.” The merchant stood with arms crossed, quite burly for a man who sat hours each day on a flying horse. Carey wasn’t sure how the creature’s wings could lift all that weight. “Prices are set in stone. I don’t even decide them. That’s my wife’s job.”

“You need a new wife,” Carey said.

“Hey, now. No need for that. The woman bore me six children!”

The merchant looked angry now. His arms had dropped to his sides, hands curled into tight fists.

“Sorry, geez.” Carey backed away from him, raising his hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture. “I was just kidding, know what I mean?”

The merchant’s expression shifted as he recalled something important.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I dropped something earlier, which is why I came back. It’s an Araband, pretty rare in these parts. If you could find it and return it to me, I’d make it worth your while.”

Carey shrugged, remembering this part from the quest notification.

“Sure. What does it look like?”

The merchant traced a circle around the top half of his head. “Golden circlet-type thing.” He tapped himself on the forehead. “With a crystal embedded in the front. Might be on the ground somewhere outside the shack. I tend to set up here sometimes in hopes of meeting fine clients like yourself.”

Carey started toward the shack. “I’ll let you know if I find it.”

The merchant flashed him a thumbs-up. “Many thanks, my fine friend!”

The first order of business was loot. In any traditional RPG, loot was always the priority in the beginning—at least the most basic items. Gold and rubies and enchanted scrolls could wait, but a beginner sword and a suit of armor could not.

Carey entered the Starter Hut easily enough. There was no lock and no doorknob, the door itself just planks of wood nailed together. It creaked on rusty hinges, and he had to bash it a bit with his forearms to get it to scrape across the dirt.

The musty smell of old wood and dry soil reached his nose. They were so realistic, the smells—he hadn’t even noticed them until now. How had the developers done it? How does one create smells of any sort in a simulated environment? And how do you turn such talented developers into criminals involved in a massive human-trafficking operation?

He would dwell on that later. For now, the chest sat against the wall to his right, beckoning to him. It was a well-crafted, heavy-looking thing with ornate copper trimmings and a handle.

On his way over, Carey noticed a shelf with a few items spread across it. They looked as though they’d been laid out just for him, which was probably the case for all new players. Though the items did not look realistic, they were close enough—one was a shiny silver block, which he soon learned was a Steel Ingot. It contained (5) Steel and was probably a crafting ingredient. There was also a reddish one (Copper Ingot) and a dull gray one (Iron Ingot), a stack of triangular metal shards (Aluminum Shards) and a small metal pipe (Lead Pipe), a few curled lengths of string (Basic Twine) and finally, a nicely shaped and sanded wooden block (Wooden Block). Each item was about the size of a grapefruit.

“Don’t mind if I do!” Carey scooped them up, the items automatically entering his inventory, which he didn’t seem capable of accessing just yet. He had to rely on his notification log to see the names and quantities of the items being accumulated.

Now back to the chest. His mouth watered as he opened it.

Much like the merchant’s unrolled pack, the belly of the chest was a similar non-space with physical rules of its own—rules different from the rest of the world. The items inside were three-dimensional representations stacked on top of each other inside what seemed like an infinite tunnel of black space. They were all there for the taking; he didn’t have to buy a thing.

Carey waved his hand, and the stack shot out from the chest and spread before him like a jewelry display in a store. Every representation of an item was similar in size to the one next to it—for the moment, they were more icons than items—making it convenient to scroll through them quickly. When he stopped at any particular item, it would increase in size so he could study it more fully. Stats were displayed in floating text beneath each one.

He scrolled through until he found his first weapon.

Item: Copper Dagger

Type: Bladed Weapon, One-Handed

Attack DMG: 4/sec

Speed: Fast

Weight: 0.5

Value: 950C

Traits: None

“It’ll have to do for now,” Carey said.

He compared the dagger’s worth to the rest of the items, if only to get a frame of reference regarding currency in this world. The shirt and pants were each worth a hundred copper, which meant the dagger was equivalent to approximately nine shirts.

That meant the dagger was almost worthless. He wasn’t surprised. After all, a copper blade would probably bend like a breadstick if he tried to kill something wearing any sort of armor.

The system for equipping himself with items was intuitive and just as easy as viewing his HUD. All he had to do was think about what he wanted. It helped to make a hand gesture. The articles of clothing shot toward his chest, swept by some unknown force, and immediately wrapped his body, warming him and making him feel less exposed and vulnerable.

Carey breathed out a sigh of satisfaction. Whistling a light tune, he checked the stats on the armor piece.

Item: Simple Leather Chest Piece

Type: Light Armor, Leather

DMG Resist: 6

Weight: 8

Value: 1S, 720C

Traits: None

The armor felt firm and tight against his chest. He rapped it a few times with his knuckles, confident that it could block a blade. It came in at eight pounds, which didn’t feel heavy but might add a significant amount to the total weight he could carry. He would have to check on that. He tried to summon the measurement indicating his current weight and limit, but all he got was a text notification at the bottom of his vision that read:

Araband necessary to view inventory, character sheet, and world map.

“Better find that thing,” he said, getting up from where he’d been crouched in front of the chest. Normally, crouching and bending forward for long periods of time hurt his knees and back, but Carey was pleased to find a complete absence of aches and pains in this world, other than any injury he might sustain during battle. Even his throbbing toe no longer felt out of sorts (though he was still 1 HP away from perfect Health).

He found a leather water pouch, which could come in handy, and five Minor Nectar potions capable of restoring 20 HP apiece.

Time to try an experiment.

Carey summoned one of the potions, which he’d stashed in his inventory for later, glad he could just make it appear like magic.

What if...

He had no intention of consuming, and therefore wasting, the entire thing. He uncorked the bright-red, rounded bottle—it felt as heavy in his hand as a half-full can of beer—and took a sip. It had a vaguely cinnamon-y flavor. His mouth suddenly felt cold, a pleasant tingling sensation sweeping down his throat and into his stomach.

His Health bar lit up.

+1

The number appeared above the bar, then immediately floated away, vanishing.

Fortunately, the Health potion was still almost completely full, which probably meant it still contained 19 HP he could save for later.

“Righteous,” Carey said, making the potion disappear into his inventory again.

Properly clothed now, his copper dagger hanging as if by magnetism on a belt made of rope around his waist—he hadn’t tied the rope; it had just appeared like that—Carey finally felt ready to head outside and brave the wilds. However, he would have to find the Araband to complete the mission, earn the XP, and have access to his inventory, character sheet, and world map.

The Traveling Merchant was still outside, slightly bent as he searched the tall grass of the clearing. Carey would have felt sorry for the man were it not for a befuddling question that popped into his head.

If he returned the Traveling Merchant’s Araband, how would Carey access the menus? Wasn’t the Araband an essential part of the game?

He couldn’t just give it away like that!

“My friend,” the merchant called over to Carey. “You look good.”

He flashed Carey another thumbs-up.

“Thanks,” Carey said, faking a smile.

The merchant was just an NPC. He wouldn’t actually need the Araband. NPCs didn’t have personal or professional lives; they were like actors playing parts on a stage. The characters they played disappeared once the curtain fell, just as the Traveling Merchant would either disappear or blend in with the game world’s background once Carey was finished with him.

His notification icon blinked.

“Oh boy.”

Carey willed it open and read it carefully.

Congratulations, adventurer!

You have reached your first Karma decision!

Returning the Araband to the Traveling Merchant will result in +20 Karma. Keeping the item will result in -20 Karma. Karmic decisions may affect your reputation with individual NPCs, certain factions, and sometimes, entire towns and cities. If they hate you, they won’t talk or trade with you. They may even attack you.

Also—and this one is important!—Karma will determine your alliance with one of two types of magic: Luminether (good magic) or Blood Ether (evil magic). Luminether is sourced from nature, while Blood Ether requires drawing life energy from other players and NPCs, harming them in the process. Luminether can be stored in blue crystals and Blood Ether in red blood crystals.

If you insist on making evil decisions, the only factions who will accept you are those outside the law, like the Low Order, Rogues’ Guild, or the Red Knights. Stick to morally good decisions to be accepted by factions like The Forge and the Cyrens.

“Whatever.” Carey hated moral decisions, both in games and in real life.

Especially games, though. He disliked a branching story where he might miss half of the narrative because he chose one “side” over another. Good characters never got to experience all the cool evil stuff, whereas evil characters were always getting harassed or outright attacked by morally good NPCs. It was obnoxious.

It is what it is.

He needed the Araband. He couldn’t risk giving it back to the merchant only to have to continue without it until the opportunity presented itself to acquire another one. They were probably expensive to buy, and he needed access to those menus, like, ASAP.

So, Carey made the decision. He would keep the Araband.

He followed the quest marker, which had switched away from the Starter Hut and was now leading him toward the other end of the clearing.

Easy peasy.

The quest marker didn’t tell him exactly where to find the Araband, so he spent the next five minutes searching within the semi-transparent circle that appeared on his mini-map, indicating the search zone.

“There you are!”

It lay gleaming on a tuft of long grass, the embedded bluish-white crystal like a diamond glittering at the bottom of a clear, shallow stream. A strange energy—Luminether, he guessed—was being emitted by the crystal, giving it a slightly foggy appearance.

Carey snatched it up and pressed it to his chest, an intuitive motion that made it clear what he wished to do with it. The Araband disappeared, entering his inventory. He would wear it as soon as he lost the merchant. Couldn’t risk exposing it yet.

Excitement coursed through his veins—the adrenaline rush of getting away with a crime. He’d felt that way many times as a child, usually after successfully shoplifting stupid trinkets from stores, or that time at age twelve when he threw a rock at a police car and ran away before the fat officer could think to chase him down.

A hand fell on his shoulder, startling him. A shadow draped itself over Carey.

“Hello there, friend,” the merchant said in his gruff voice. “What have you there? I saw something glittering in your hands.”

Carey imagined the merchant driving the blade of a sword into his back and through his abdomen. Was the man even armed? In dangerous times like these, he’d be crazy not to be. Hadn’t he mentioned attacks on levathon riders?

Slowly, Carey turned to face him.

“Listen...” he began, aware of the weight dangling off the left side of his belt. His dagger. He made the Araband appear around his forehead. “You’ve got the wrong guy…”

He rolled away from the merchant.

The fight began.