The sound of a girl’s laughter rained over him, as a winged creature shot down, landing a few feet away.

Why did random stuff keep falling from the sky?

Ara zipped back into the crystal, leaving Carey to fend for himself. It wasn’t a horse at all that had dropped but a winged girl, and suddenly Carey found himself doing his best to act as if it was no big deal—as though people dropped from the sky all the time where he was from.

“You’re late. I ordered that pizza thirty minutes ago.”

Laughing—clearly laughing at him—the girl folded her wings behind her back and stood facing him.

“Quit laughing already,” he snapped at her. “Not my fault you fly like you’re drunk.”

That silenced her, and now she was frowning. “There’s nothing wrong with the way I fly.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He crossed his arms and turned his body slightly away from her.

The girl’s frown vanished. She was grinning at him again. Studying her, Carey distinctly felt his knees go weak. She was a beautiful brunette, and the wings made her seem like an angel. Thank God he wasn’t still in his undies.

“You have a name?” he asked her.

“Beatrice. And you are?”

“Carey Walsh. Nice to, uh, meet you.”

“You, uh, as well.”

He found himself liking her, and not just because she was a fine physical specimen. She looked to be in her mid-twenties. Her snow-white wings were almost twice as long as her arms, and she wore an Araband much like Carey’s. Shapely and athletic, she was dressed in a sparkling tunic with a bright-red belt fastened a few inches above her narrow waist and bedecked with small Luminether crystals. Even her sandals were unusual—tiny wings stuck out from the sides, as if they played a part in her ability to fly.

She started to approach. Carey’s chest tightened and his shoulders rose defensively.

“Oh, relax,” she said. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Besides, I’m a healer. Hurting people isn’t really in my job description.”

The more she spoke, the more Carey found himself falling under her spell. She seemed like a gal who didn’t take any crap from men—a trait Carey had always respected in women, ever since the time his own mother slapped Carey’s father across the face with a spatula because he called her “real bitchy today.” (After which his father, egg speckled across his face, meekly apologized.)

He couldn’t help but stare at her. Straight, auburn hair grazed her shoulders. Her pale skin was dusted lightly with freckles. Eyes as green as the grass under their feet. There were so many things about her he found attractive, he almost wondered if she was an NPC—designed to be perfect, yet fake.

I think I’m in love.

“You’re real, right?” Carey asked, just to make sure. “I mean, a real player trapped in this game, not an NPC?”

She shrugged and gave him a coy look. “What do you think?”

There was little question she was a real player. She looked exactly like a real-life person except for a few minor artificial enhancements, like unnaturally smooth skin and hair too shiny to be authentic. Carey could also tell by the fluid way she moved that she was human. Other NPCs, like the merchant and the apprentices, moved in a slightly stilted way, like automatons following coded instructions. Plus, their graphical depiction, the way they were drawn and colored—albeit clearly the work of talented designers—also looked sort of like a hyper-realistic Pixar movie.

“You’re obviously real. But you should be more careful.” Carey made his dagger materialize in his hand to prove his point. “You never know when someone might attack instead of make small talk. And in case you didn’t get the memo, dying in the game means dying in real life.”

He made the blade disappear.

“Uh, hello?” Beatrice said. “Did you not notice my stats?” She pointed above her head, a whitish-pink blade materializing in her right hand. As soon as Carey glanced at the empty space, the girl’s vital stats appeared beneath her name, BrazenBelle95. “I could wreck you,” she added. “Just me and my Coral Knife.”

It was true—she was a Level 6 Acolyte Cleric with many more Health, Stamina and Luminether Points than Carey would possess even if he played for a week straight, probably.

Not to mention the curved knife flashing in her grip. Watery-blue energy danced along its strangely colored blade.

“Enchanted,” she said, nodding toward her blade. “Does +6 water damage. My tunic, belt, and sandals are also magically fortified.”

Now, she was just bragging.

“Pretty cool,” Carey said. “For a Level 6.”

Her face fell. Always hit a braggart with an insult. It throws them off guard, makes them take you more seriously. His dad had taught him that.

“Coming from a guy who woke up naked just ten minutes ago. By the way, the Level 1 fireworks only appear the first time, or else the whole world would know your location every time you leveled up. It’s how we found you.”

“We?” Carey spun around, wondering who else might be approaching from behind. Was this an ambush?

“Will,” Beatrice called, “get out here!”

A young man’s voice spoke from the forest.

“Coming.”

Carey watched as a young black guy dressed like a wizard—minus the pointy hat—emerged from the trees, crunching twigs underfoot. Dressed in a navy-blue robe with silvery stars all over it, bracelets glittering on his skinny brown wrists, he carried a short staff with a blue crystal embedded at the tip. He looked like a costumed nerd at a Harry Potter convention. Except for the Araband, of course—Harry Potter wasn’t cool enough to have one of those.

“Damn Hyathean mushrooms,” he said. “I almost caught one, too.”

“Caught one?” Carey asked, utterly confused. “Was it trying to run away from you?”

“More like succeeding in running away from me. They’re faster than they look.”

Carey read the guy’s stats. xXWillPowerzXx—not a bad player name. Level 5 Savant Sorcerer, about what you’d expect in terms of Health and the rest. Probably had a few spells up his sleeve.

“I’m Will,” he said. “We saw your fireworks—”

“I know. She explained it to me.”

He pointed at the girl. What was her name? Denise?

Beatrice. An old lady’s name.

“Your first level up,” Will said, smiling and flashing a dorky thumbs-up. “I remember mine like it was yesterday.”

“How long, exactly, have you been here?”

Will made a strange-looking fruit—like a cross between a peeled banana and a yellow pepper—appear in his hand. He bit the tapered end with a loud crunch. Beatrice stood by, flipping her knife through the air and catching it.

“Two weeks,” Will said, chewing. “Bea’s been here a whole month. They add a new player about every two to three weeks.”

He threw the fruit several feet above their heads and aimed his staff at it. The crystal at its tip turned bright blue. Instead of falling, the fruit floated in the air, spinning.

“Levitation I,” Will said. “The second Tier II spell I ever learned.”

He lowered the fruit toward Beatrice, who plucked it from the air and bit into it.

Carey sighed. “Okay, I’ll bite. What was the first?”

“This.”

Will extended one of his arms, pointing it away from Carey. Orange light swelled in his open palm, becoming a flexing ball of concentrated fire and heat. He launched the fireball at a nearby tree, where it burst with little fanfare, leaving several branches and leaves aflame and smoking.

Will’s LP bar decreased maybe 5 percent.

“Remind me to invite you to my next barbecue,” Carey said.

Will chuckled, glancing at Beatrice. “He’s funny. That’s rare in this place. Most people here are just assholes.”

“Well, Carey here is the best of both worlds,” Beatrice said.

Carey gave her the finger. “Anyway,” he said, “we probably shouldn’t be wasting time, since A—it’s getting late, and B—we need to get out of these pods by somehow winning this stupid game. I say we make our way to the nearest town, find an inn with a warm fire and cold beer on tap, and you guys can help me level up the right way.”

“We could help you?” Beatrice said.

She tossed the half-eaten fruit up into the air. Will swung his staff, crystal tip burning once more, and cast a wind spell that sent it flying over the trees.

Okay, Carey had to admit, that was pretty cool.

“Wait,” Carey said, “you came all this way to the Starter Hut not to ask me to join your party?”

She scoffed. “What if we just wanted to give you some advice and wish you good luck? Not everyone needs a Max4 party, nor is every player worthy.”

“Max4? What’s that?”

“Maximum of four players, ideally one of each race.”

“That’s racist.”

She glared hotly at him, though Will managed a chuckle. “Do you ever take anything seriously? It’s getting dark and there are monsters in the Starter Area, believe it or not.”

“Actually, I take nighttime pretty seriously,” Carey said, studying his darkened surroundings. According to the clock on his character sheet, it was already 9:52. “Damn, time flies.”

“It’s game time,” Will said, “so it’s faster than norm—”

“Yeah, I know. I’m no stranger to RPGs.”

“Really? Which one’s your favorite? This ain’t a test. I’m really curious.”

They began walking along the trail leading to town, Carey noticing the blue arrow on the edge of his mini-map that was apparently pointing him in the desired direction. It had appeared as soon as Carey became interested in heading toward the nearest town, but it was different from the yellow arrow that pointed him toward his next quest. Must have been more of a personal marker.

“Ooh,” Carey said, eyeing a small clearing ahead and to the west that he could see past the trees—a clearing that was decidedly not empty. “Loot!”

He jogged over and scooped up (3) Wooden Blocks that had been stacked next to a sleeping bag made of dirty, tattered cloth beside a burnt-out campfire. There was also a small sack that contained (5) Salt Cubes and a random assortment of flower petals.

“Check it out good,” Beatrice said absently. “There’s usually stuff hidden around.”

Will came over to help, but Carey held him back with an outstretched arm.

“I got this.”

He lifted the sleeping bag and shook it. Glittering items fell from inside.

(60) Copper Coins

(10) Steel Nails

(2) Copper Rings

(1) Silver Amulet

“Hey, not bad! I can sell these.”

He checked the ashes in the dead campfire.

(3) Ash Heaps

Carey loved how everything just transferred automatically into his inventory—as long as he touched it with intent to keep it.

“Okay,” Carey said, walking back to the path where Will and Beatrice stood inspecting various items in their own inventories. “What’s the next quest?”

“Check your Quest Log, dummy,” Beatrice said.

Pulling up his Quest Log, Carey noticed his Starter Hut quest was in the “COMPLETED” section, the text dim to indicate he was done with it. A new quest had appeared in the “MAIN QUESTS” section.

MAIN QUEST 1.2 – IT’S PARTY TIME!

Recommended Level: 1-10

Explore Astros and recruit three other players to join your party of adventurers. One can be an NPC, but the other two must be players. Not all four races must be represented, though it is recommended.

XP REWARD: 225

ACCEPT QUEST: Yes OR No?

Yes.

Night fell at one point, and Carey could see stars appearing in the darkened west, the sky to the east still lit but purpling. It was a beautiful sky, for a video game.

“Let me get this straight,” Carey said at one point. “There are four different races: Sargonaut, Savant, Feral, and Acolyte.”

“Don’t forget Humankin,” Beatrice said. “Most NPCs are Humankin. Technically, that’s the fifth race. They look human but they’re slightly enhanced in every way, thanks to their blood having historically been mixed with that of Godkin. They’re faster, stronger, and smarter than regular humans, but they don’t have any of the superpowers associated with the four ‘Godkin’ races.”

“That’s right,” Carey said. “Ara explained that to me earlier. Sounds pretty crappy, not having superpowers. Guess that’s why you can’t select that race—wouldn’t be as much fun.”

“Probably.” Beatrice sighed wistfully. “But it must be nice not having powers that call you to battle every five minutes. Most Humankin lead peaceful lives not devoted to warfare. Plus, they make up most of the population of Astros, so they do have a superpower, if you count the power of numbers. At least, that’s how it plays out in the books.”

“There are books about this place?”

“I’ll defer to Will on this one. He’s read them.”

“Oh yeah, there are books,” Will said. “Three of them, part of the Luminether series. By some guy named Robert—no, wait…”

“Richard,” Beatrice said.

“Right, Richard Davenport or something like that. I read them when I was, like, fifteen or sixteen. He only wrote three of them, then drank himself to death when they wouldn’t sell. At least, that’s what Roger told me.

“Ample VR-Tech bought the rights to the story from the guy’s wife, using a shell company they claimed was a video-game developer. Wife only saw about a hundred grand from the deal. They told her the game company went bankrupt and went on their merry way. She has no idea Luminether Online exists—though if she ever finds out, she’s in the money for good. I’m sure they’d pay her a pretty penny to keep her mouth shut.”

“Roger told you all this?”

“Sam did, mostly. On the airplane. Guess he was feeling chatty that day.”

“Damn.” Carey shook his head. “Raw deal for the wife. Considering how many hundreds of millions Roger poured into this place.”

“His tiny virtual prison,” Beatrice said.

“Speaking of prisons...” Carey was feeling chatty himself now. “What are you guys in for?”

Beatrice hugged herself, as though to fend off a chill. “Really, it’s none of your business.”

“We don’t talk about it,” Will said. “It’s in the past. Right now, all that matters is the game.”

“Okay, WillPowerz. Just trying to make conversation. People do that where you’re from? Just talk to each other?”

“I’m from Flint, Michigan, not Fallujah,” Will said. “We don’t just shoot each other in the ghetto, you know.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Carey put up his hands, as if to slow a speeding car. “Though I never once met a gun I didn’t want to shoot.” He made a pistol shape with his right hand and fake-fired it at Will.

Beatrice scoffed, then added: “Or a supersize burger combo you didn’t want to eat.”

“You know what—” Carey began, but Beatrice interrupted him.

“No, you know what. I don’t like you, DrollTroll. But then again, none of us are here because we were good people 100 percent of the time. So, I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. If you give me your word, no ignorant or sexist remarks, ever, then Will and I will consider letting you join our party.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” Carey said, crossing his arms. “But what if I’d rather join another party?”

A broad, toothy smile spread across Beatrice’s face. Her teeth were perfect, white, very kissable.

“Then good luck,” she chirped, turning away from him to continue along the trail.

Will followed her. “See you later,” he said, with a half-assed wave.

Carey stood for a moment, watching them walk away. What should he do? Head to town and find a different group of adventurers? Could he host his own party and advertise it on the network somehow?

“Fine,” he grumbled, following them. “I’m actually a nice guy. You just have to get to know me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Beatrice said.

Will remained quiet and moody throughout the walk. Carey kept his distance.

Then, finally...

You have reached Irados.

EXPERIENCE GAINED: 50 points (50/1,000 to next level)

“Almost there,” Will said, gazing through the trees at the sleepy lights of a town that sprawled beyond the bottom of a hill they had crested.

A twig snapped behind them, followed by a guttural snarl.

“Oh shit,” Carey whispered.