I noticed the flashing achievement tab and opened it as I approached the junction.

Achievement Unlocked – First Kill

Description – You managed to murder something less lethal than your childhood hamster. As a fully grown adult. I hope you’re proud.

Reward – Minor Healing Potion x 2

Achievement Unlocked – Corpse Thief

Description – You looted a dead body. Two hundred years ago they’d have hanged you for that.

Reward – Minor Mana Potion x 2

“You built the bloody game! What else are we supposed to do?”

At the mention of the mana I checked my pool and discovered it was a fraction of my health value. My spell tome was a series of blank pages, so the point was moot. Old habits die hard, however, and I popped the useless blue vials in the hotkey next to the red one. I was bound to learn something magic at some point.

I peeked around the corner and found both tunnels uninhabited. My second old habit was to go with my writing hand, so I turned left. Darkness followed in my wake as I stole every available torch. I’d noticed no discernible dimming of the flame over time, but it paid to prepare for a time limit. That and they were just sat there for the taking, so why not? The fog of war retreated in the corner of my vision. A parallel path appeared to my right with a small room, inset with a flashing star. I would need to walk on and double back to investigate.

I fell into a crouch when the familiar chitter came from the crossroads ahead. My achievement tab started to glow.

Achievement Unlocked – Stealthy Shenanigans

Description – You’ve entered stealth mode. A combination of dexterity and wisdom control the likelihood that your attempt to attack like a punk are successful. Pussy.

Reward – Coward’s Dagger.

Without a proper active weapon, the dagger immediately appeared in my right hand. I checked it out.

Item – Coward’s Dagger (common)

Type – Weapon (1 hand/dual wield)

Description – Et tu, Brute? Your snivelling cowardice might keep you alive, but at what cost? As you slip the blade into your enemy’s back, you can feel a corresponding wound to your self-esteem. As you well should!

Requirements – Str 3, Dex 3.

Effect – Double base damage on successful backstab or stealth attack.

Misc – None.

An information tab appeared in my vision and I remained low while I read it.

Skills are currently locked for the tutorial dungeon. Progress towards level ups will activate upon entry to main quest worlds.

Giving the choices a cursory check, I found basic trees catering to different styles of combat and weaponry. They were irrelevant at that moment so I closed them down and looked at the stiletto type weapon. Its blade was thin, but razor sharp. The handle was bright yellow, for obvious reasons.

Clever.

I crawled forward, keeping low to the ground and checked both ways. The ratlings were picking scraps from the bones of an old skeleton. Its skull was tilted backwards in an endless scream. I knew it was poor form, but I checked the other two passages for threats, then stepped forward with exaggerated care. If I’d been in full plate, I doubt the attempt would’ve succeeded. As I was mostly naked and shoeless, I got right up on the two creatures. I felt like a piece of shit as I quickly stabbed both of them through the spine. So much so that I gagged on the club sandwich that wanted to escape my gut in liquid form.

That was something I needed to come to terms with quickly. They felt like flesh and bone, living and breathing, but they were only a construct of the beings who had gate-crashed our planet. I was the only real thing in the dungeon.

I looted their corpses and left the mess behind. The skeleton itself had six copper coins which went into my pack, which in turn opened another new tab on my HUD. Six measly copper. I was so poor I would be grateful to chew on the crunchy, diseased tails at this rate.

Taking the next right, I doubled back on myself and found the mysterious room. It had a replica of the door I used to enter the dungeon. Once again, there was no lock or handle.

“I wonder how you work?”

The words acted like an incantation and it swung wide open, the creak carrying away down both legs of the passage. I was expecting a loot chest after spying the star. What I found was a tiny room with a table, two chairs, a little cot bed, and a wizened old man grinning at me.

“Come in! Come in!” He had more gaps than teeth as he beckoned me to enter.

I took one step before stopping dead in my tracks. Though the old guy was no looker, I couldn’t help but feel this was some kind of honeypot. I’d step inside and the old gent would turn out to be hastily packed explosives which detonated with a cackle of mad laughter.

“It’s not a trap,” he said cheerfully.

“That exactly what a trap would say!”

He rubbed at his stubbled chin. “I see your point. How can I convince you?”

“Lift up your shirt.”

He frowned at the bizarre request, but complied. There were no explosives wrapped tightly around his body.

“Are you ticking?”

“Why would I be tickling? I’m alone with no one to tickle.”

“Ticking! Like a bomb!”

“Not to my knowledge,” he said, awkwardly listening to his body.

I gave the room a cursory inspection which took no time at all. It looked like a broom closet that had been repurposed as a cheap bedroom for an unwanted stepchild. “Who are you?”

“I’m Bartholomew Ferdinand, but you can call me Bart.”

“Do I need to fight you?”

“Good heavens, I hope not!”

“Why?”

“Because I’d kill you, and I don’t want to do that.”

I sized him up. Seven stone would be an overly generous guess. If he was on the healthy side of eighty I’d eat my hat. But I didn’t have a hat. Make it my loincloth.

“I can see you’re still thinking in terms of your own world. That would be a terrible mistake.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“Step inside and close the door. Then we can talk properly.”

“You’re not going to explode are you?”

“Only of excitement at meeting you. Come on in!”

I readied my knife, just in case. Stepping through the entrance, the entire scene changed. From a room little larger than a prison cell, it transformed into a suite fit for a king. A cavernous fireplace crackled with burning logs. A coat of arms rested atop the mantel. The walls were adorned with paintings of strange lands that made my mind reel from their strangeness. The bed had become a massive four-poster with feather pillows and thick mattress. The old man was still sat at the table, but it had now elongated from the filthy, stained hunk of wood to a beautifully varnished masterpiece of craftsmanship. Two goblets waited at either end.

“Take a seat.”

I didn’t hear the invite as I marvelled at the room. “How did you do this?”

“Our realm is most unlike your own. That will suffice for now.”

“Are we there now?”

“No. We’re still on your world.”

“Am I in bed? Is this a dream? Like virtual reality.”

“No. This is reality reality. On our terms.”

“I don’t understand.” I slumped into the chair miserably, picking up the cup.

The goblet was empty and I was parched. My kingdom for some water! It appeared out of nowhere, crisp and clear. I recoiled in my seat. If it hadn’t been an antique throne-like chair weighing two hundred pounds, I’d have tipped it over. Instead, I just caused a heavy thud as the front feet slammed back to the ground and covered myself with the newly appeared drink.

“How?”

“Magic!” he exclaimed, then laughed. “Not really. It’s just your telepathic augments creating what you want.”

“What if I wanted a twenty-eight ounce steak, well done?”

Pop! The silver platter with perfectly cooked beef appeared. Some called me a monster for the way I had my steak, but I knew the right way to have it. None of that medium rare shit.

“Holy shit!” I gasped, cutting into the charred meat. “What about a gatling gun?”

The table remained topped with only the food and my freshly replenished goblet.

Bart was looking at me distastefully. “Leaving aside your callous destruction of that glorious meal, you can’t create anything that will help you in the game world. I think the steak would work well if you threw it. A copper bath to soak in, however? No problem. A copper sword? No.”

“Copper’s soft. It wouldn’t last.”

“Softer than that steak, that’s for sure. Material densities aside, do you understand?”

I gave him a nod as I cut a chunk of meat and stuffed it into my mouth. “Where are we?” I asked as juices dribbled down my chin. Knowing I must look a right slob, I conjured a napkin and dabbed at it.

“This is one of the game’s saferooms. If you look closely, you can see the dark blue outline and the faint blue hue to the actual room. That way you’ll know it’s not a trap.”

I checked and he was right. “Will this be the same in all the other worlds?”

“Yes. But you can’t enter if you are engaged in combat.” He snapped his fingers as something came to him. “Being chased is also considered engaged in combat, even if you aren’t that keen on fighting whatever’s chasing you.”

“So no hiding?”

“Not in here. Sorry.”

I sipped at the water, checking for peculiarities in the flavour. Aside from being the most deliciously clean water I’d ever tasted, it seemed to be fine. As I put the golden cup down, I finally noticed I was completely clean of all the muck and gore from fighting. If it could be called that.

“Wow. No need to wash, huh?”

“No. Entering the saferoom not only removes all lingering status effects, but it cleans you into the bargain.”

“So, who are you?”

“Bartholomew Ferdinand. Bart.”

“That’s your name. Who are you?”

“I’m your personal guide. A mentor, if you will, within limits. I’ll be available in any saferoom with just a thought.”

“You don’t stay here while I sleep?”

“That would be creepy.”

“Agreed.” I fell into silence and watched the greedy flames eating unsuccessfully at the thick logs. I had a million questions, but at that point, I was mute.

Bart studied me for a solid minute before breaking the silence. “You’ve done well so far.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“Too many to process if I’m honest.”

“Would you like me to lay out the basics while you gather your thoughts?”

“Sure.”

“From my records, I see you’re already familiar with the user interface, so I won’t rehash that. One of the questions you had as you were moving around was about enemy, or ‘mob’ information. You can pull up their unique portrait at any time just by thinking of the mob type. The first thing you’ll see is their name and their level. I don’t have to tell you that anything with a skull is probably way above your ability to fight, so make use of those legs. Try it with me.”

Having prior knowledge of my foe would be far more use than checking the bestiary after I’d managed to defeat it. Forewarned is forearmed and all that. I thought of Bart’s information and it created an aura around him topped with a flashing skull and three question marks.

“Other than the fact it seems you can kill me with a pencil, I can’t see your level.”

“It’s because I’m one of the realm masters. We can’t be hurt by anyone and anything in the dungeons.”

“Not even the bosses?”

“Bosses, schmosses.”

“That must be helpful.”

“Not really. We usually only manifest in the safe areas, so they can’t reach us even if they wanted to.”

“You said usually?”

“Like I said, we’re the realm masters. Now, think of my portrait and you can get a rundown of any stats you’re able to discern.”

I did as instructed but the entire thing was useless.

Name – Bartholomew Ferdinand

Description – Realm Master. Sponsor of: Mark Craig. ??????????

Weakness – ??????????

Immunities – ??????????

“I can’t see anything. It’s all just question marks.”

“Unless you have a really low wisdom, you should be able to… Oh, I see.”

“I’ll work on it, ok!”

“It’s not absolutely necessary, but it helps.”

“Are you generated by the aliens? Like a computer model.”

The old man laughed heartily. I didn’t see the joke. “Not at all. I’m actually one of the beings sent to destroy your world.”

Well that sure pissed in my cornflakes. “You’re not an old man?”

“In your understanding of time, I’d be ancient. But no, this weak shell is just for visual effect. A non-threatening NPC type avatar to provide assistance to the humans.”

NPC, so non player character. He was in, but outside of the game. That made sense. His presence in the dungeon on the other hand…

“Why are you helping me if you want to destroy us?”

“Because as we were beginning our final approach for the sterilisation of Earth, I started to get the feeling it was wrong. Yes, you’re a violent and selfish species that cares little for the world around you. But when I started to examine humans on an individual level, I found great kindness and empathy. Acts of sacrifice so profound they made many of us question the mission. We convinced our masters to allow humanity a chance to earn their survival.”

“And they listened?”

Bart nodded.

Our own leaders were arrogant fucknuggets who were so fond of sniffing their own farts that they would rather die than listen to reason. It explained a lot of our problems when I thought about it.

“If you wanted us to prove ourselves, why not allow soldiers and cops to play?”

“Because, with a few exceptions, they’ve already proven their selflessness. The warriors amongst your people may fight for different masters and banners, but at the core of their hearts is the desire to defend their homes and their families.”

“If that’s the case, haven’t we already proven ourselves worthy?”

“An exception doesn’t make the rule, Mark.”

It was the first time he’d used my name and I was taken aback at the familiarity. “You know who I am.”

“Of course. Each of us who spoke up in your defence have adopted a human player. You are mine. I will be with you until the bitter end.”

“I guess I should say thanks.”

Bart grimaced. “Knowing what’s coming, I wouldn’t.”

That sounded just peachy. There was a question I wanted to ask. I held his rheumy gaze while I wrestled with the benefit I’d gain by knowing, and how he would take it. After my transformation into a don’t-give-a-shit free spirit, I just went for it. “What do you really look like? Where are you from?”

“It’s beyond your comprehension. For now. Let’s get back to the game, shall we?”

That was a bust.

“Can I die?”

“Yes.”

Shit!

“Ok, let me rephrase. If I die, am I fully dead? Like, forever. A tunnel of white light. My relatives waiting to welcome me.”

“That all depends on how you lived your life.”

“Ok, religious bullshit aside, am I fully dead?”

“No.”

“I can respawn over and over?” That took a massive weight off my shoulders. I was about to visit surreal worlds of danger and intrigue. Likely more of the former if I was being honest.

“No.”

A trombone played a melancholy dirge. Womp womp wooooomp.

“Ok, explain it real slow for the dumb ones at the back.”

“Where would the challenge be if you could just be revived an infinite amount of times?”

“Fair point. Continue.”

“There’s a price to pay, but you won’t know what it is. The knowledge may well break you. It’s been decided to keep it a secret. For now.”

“Well now you’ve said that, I’m already breaking! Jeez, you can’t say stuff like that and leave it! Come on, Bart!”

“I can’t and won’t say any more. Suffice it to say, there will be a limit to your chances. A low one.”

“Damn!” That invisible rock was a hard burden to bear. It was like getting a text for your significant other saying ‘we need to talk later’. About what!? Why?! What have I done!? And you would then spend the next few hours worrying yourself to distraction about the unknown ‘talk’. Nine times out of ten you knew exactly what it meant and should’ve started packing your bags and cancelling your shared Netflix account.

Bart favoured me with a supportive smile. “Just try your best not to die. That’s all I will say.”

“Fine!” I answered, stroppily. “What’s with all the extra stuff in my character tab? Perks, affinities, and stuff like that?”

“They come later as you conquer the worlds.”

“You’ve got a lot of faith in someone who almost got their arse kicked by a couple of low level sewer skulkers,” I muttered.

“It’s well placed,” he replied. “I can feel it.”

“What about class?”

“Once you’ve attained level five, you will be able to decide your path going forward.”

“Like warrior, mage, that kind of thing.”

“Exactly.”

“Is this a solo deal? I haven’t seen anyone else.”

“The tutorial dungeon is a solo endeavour, yes.”

“But I can join groups in the other worlds?”

“That hasn’t been decided yet. At the moment, the answer is no. We want to test you on an individual level.”

At least there was a glimmer of hope. “If you do eventually let us work together, how do I go about finding my friend Cris?”

“Cris?”

“Cristal…” I sat there with my mouth open as I didn’t have a surname to offer. I hadn’t even asked when we’d met.

Bart knew. Of course he did. “Anderson.”

“Yeah, her. How do I pick her as my teammate? Telepathy again?”

“I can’t answer that as it’s not an option currently open to you.”

“So for the time being, we’ll all be doing our own thing in here?”

“Yes. She and the others will be in other worlds, carrying out her own quests.”

“When you say other worlds, do you mean like she’s in the necro world while I’m in here kind of thing?”

“No. The challenges are chosen by telepathic consensus. The most thoughts win the day. Democracy at its finest,” he replied with a grin.

“And we all get dumped in mecha world when the time comes if it’s got the most votes? That might get awfully packed if we all end up at the starting point together.” I remembered launch days on WoW and the utter bedlam of hundreds of toons all logging in together. That was if you had the luck of finding a server that wasn’t overpopulated and full.

“That can’t happen. As I’m sure you’ll appreciate, there are too many of you to throw into a single iteration of the world.”

“How many?”

Bart stared at me without answering, his eyebrow raised in disappointment.

“Ok, need to know basis and all that. You said the worlds aren’t virtual reality? How can you create enough of them to handle all of the volunteers?” I left out the how was it even possible to make the worlds in the first place.

“Our methods are…”

I knew exactly where he was going. “Beyond our comprehension, right? I get it.” He wasn’t wrong, was he? “Can you tell me anything about the training dungeon at all?”

“Only that it is small and comprises two levels. You will get to keep any loot you find along the way to use when your people decide the first world.”

“Nothing about the enemies? The bosses?”

“You’ll see them for yourself soon enough. Provided you don’t fall asleep in their chambers or refuse to fight back, you should be fine.”

“And what if I’m feeling a little tired and take a nap?”

“Then your death will be extremely protracted and painful. I’m sure you’ll wake up at some point and stop it. Or maybe you just enjoy pain?”

“If there’s no challenge, what’s the point? I can’t imagine your people, things, beings would be entertained by it.”

“Consider this your ‘child touching a hot oven’ teachable moment. It’s going to hurt a little bit, but you’ll remember the lesson.”

“So that’s it? Nothing else to offer? I know you NPCs are supposed to be a bit vague to help build tension, but this is ridiculous.”

“You’ll have more answers when you reach a point where you need them, Mark. For now, you can either eat, sleep, or go and kill some enemies and build up that loot.”

I held up a finger. “On that point, do they feel pain? When I kill them, I mean?”

“You’re concerned for the wellbeing of things that want to end your life?” Bart cocked his head, as if I’d answered a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“I don’t want to hurt things if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not a psycho.”

“Then you’ll be happy to hear that although they may seem hurt or injured, they are biological creations with no real sense of pain. It’s a game engine response, no more.”

I’d only killed four mobs so far, but their suffering had been on my mind constantly. This was such a relief I actually held my head in my hands. Pathetic, right? Call me what you want. I cared for animals. Honey was my whole world. The only thing that had never let me down.

“May I say, you seem more at ease now.”

“I am,” I replied. I was. I’d thrown myself in the deep end without thinking through the ramification of my hasty decision to volunteer. Bart had thrown me a life ring so at least I could tread water.

“I’ll leave you now. If you need me, think of me and I’ll appear.”

“In the safe rooms?”

“In the safe rooms. As you get deeper into the stories, it might be that whole towns are safe areas. You’ll know by the…?”

“Blue outline and light blue colouration?”

“Very good. Best of luck, Mark. I’m rooting for you. Truly.”

Before I could thank him, Bart vanished without trace like several of my less successful dates. I was left alone in the toasty room, savouring the ambience. My steak was now cold, the juices congealing. I wished it away and ordered another. It appeared, steaming with heat.

“Yummy.”

I tucked in like a condemned man.