Blake could not sleep at all. He could not get into the game, either. Tomorrow he would need all twenty-four hours. Besides, he did not know how long the dungeon was, how strong the monsters were, or what traps it might contain. He could not get the image of the doppelganger and Ona's message out of his head. He went to the kitchen, brewed some herbal tea, added honey and spices. For the first time, his mind was not on his father.

Blake returned to the living room and laid down on the couch, turned on the TV - just to avoid sitting in silence - and opened the computer and widened the screen and went to the Guns and Magic game site. There he found a list of registered players on the forum and chose Ona's nickname and opened her profile. She had last been online eighteen hours ago. He clicked on the private button. A dialog box opened, with a warning at the top in red letters: game rules forbid the users from discussing inside information related to the game after a user’s death. Blake began to ponder whether or not to write to her. He sat and thought, and time flowed, nothing came to his mind, everything felt off, everything felt wrong.

On the television, the news program began. A black woman with a slender figure, charming face, and a serious, unemotional expression sat staring into the camera at the table, as soon as the music stopped she spoke: "Channel One Federal News here. I’m Shinel Rocker, and we begin with breaking news. Some of the Defense Department's data was leaked to the web, it contains information about unknown soil types, thousands of DNAs non-native to any of the explored planets, and other information on varieties of flora, fauna, and much more. The scandal around the world is taking a threatening turn. A hacker group called APT76 claims that the data is updated every day in huge volumes. What are the militaries hiding? Is the planet NSR-318556A not really destroyed? Or is something else being hidden from us? The discovery of a new habitable planet? About that in our report today..."

“Fucking politics again,” Blake swore.

He changed to a music channel. There the program played classical music on a modern cover.

“Much better.”

A player with the nickname Kasantes posted a thread on the forum with the first guide on using magic. It caught the attention of millions of players. The secret of using spells was not so trivial. Blake started reading.

Magic is our imagination, a creative subconscious process. You've probably heard of people who have the skill to control dreams, or what they call “lucid dreaming”. They are able to create their own world, creatures, plot, and more. Using and pumping magic is essentially the same: the same parts of the brain are involved. But that's if we're talking about the attack magic, which, by the way, must have a primary source. Spells do not appear out of nothing, so mages always carry things of those natural elements that are not easy to come by in the wilderness but needed for the spells, for example, fire and water.

Also, as Kasantes suggests, magic is divided into many directions (non-combat), from what he knows: darkness, light, summoning, illusions. To understand how it all works you'll have to do a better job of exploring the world. There are probably books or detailed guides in the wilds of the forest or in abandoned ruins that can answer all the questions. Blake remembered the book he had found in the desert and smiled and looked at his watch: 03:41.

Vvy made the appointment for 7:00 in the morning. I wonder who the replacements are.

For the next hour, he wandered around the house with his own Barrett on his shoulder, then went to the loggia and smoked. Drowsiness, as if with small weights, lowered his eyelids and caused lethargy, but as soon as he went to bed, a rush of vigor would appear out of nowhere.

“Fuck it...”

Loading…

Info #77: There is no such thing as a profession in Guns and Magic. You can use melee by boosting your strength, dexterity, and reaction, and in addition, raise your magic parameter by one for boosting spells.

Still loading…

Info #78: The current date on Thalack: September 13, 325.788.

We're about to start…

Info #79: In addition to the human civilization of the Vanguard, there are other civilizations present on Thalack.

Loading completed. Welcome to the world of Guns and Magic! #1 VRMMORGP*.

*According to the independent gaming magazine Flashes on 04/09/2311.

Ronnie opened his eyes. He was in the barracks on an uncomfortable bunk bed with a mattress as hard as a rock. He checked the party menu, the new names in the group were Yleen (rank: Lord) and Illyseh (rank: Support Squads Officer). Data about levels and stats were hidden. Both were online.

Ronnie stepped outside and breathed in the fresh mountain air, filled with the scents of flowers, pine needles, and rain. He looked up and saw how in the sky, dense, hilly clouds formed a vortex through which the dark blue light of the moon broke through, staining everything it touched: trees, houses, people, mountains. This was the first time Ronnie had ever seen anything like it. The beauty of the ghostly night bewitched him.

The meditation stopped a few minutes later when one of the players shoved him and apologized and ran toward the donjon. The sniper descended from heaven to earth and looked at the ugly three-story barracks with bars on the windows behind his back. At the players who were rolling concrete cannonballs toward the cannons in the main square. Moreover, toward the small alley, where players assembled in groups to go into the woods in search of outlandish food and Exp.

Ronnie opened his status window:

Strength 5.7 - first modification.

Dexterity 16.7 - third modification.

Reaction 3.6 - zero modification.

Magic 0 - no modification.

Current experience 43%

No abnormalities.

Everything is back to normal, he thought and went to the monster research lab, where he let Barahu out of its cage. The scientists in the next room were talking excitedly amongst themselves about rumors and argued. The mere mention of Elgoreombdon caused Ronnie to gag, and judging by the wolfhound's growl, so did it. Both went outside. The sniper adjusted his rifle and turned toward Orodrim Eowl. The Gothic outlines of the mountains stretched a thousand kilometers into the distance and went beyond the horizon. Incredible grandeur.

Ronnie opened the map and saw Yleen heading towards him. He sniffed his nose and winked at Barahu. They walked together in the opposite direction, not paying attention to anything or anyone around them. After a couple of dozen minutes, Ronnie plunged into the bowels of his subconscious for the umpteenth time and began walking in circles around the Tough rise guild building. The wolfhound's bark brought him back to his senses, and they changed route and headed for a small park. It was full of players.

“In that case, we'll just walk around the perimeter,” Ronnie said to the dog. It wagged its tail in response.

Not far from the entrance to the local library, Ronnie saw a lectern surrounded by glass. On it was an A3 paper, where at the very top was written that Varnasosto Fortress belonged to the Tough rise guild. Just below went a summary of the construction progress, how the walls stretched from edge to edge of the small plateau, how the council building, airport, barracks, entertainment centers, parks, alleys, and conference halls were built. A real city. All painted in gold and white. Referring to the words of the chief architect Craftirev, he wanted the place to emit a divine glow even at night.

Ronnie headed along the wall and the watchtowers, where the sentries were sitting at their posts, judging by their hunched and bored looks, reading the forum or the news. When the green dot on the map marking Yleen was far enough, he went on to the wall and stood in the gap between the merlons and looked off into the distance before he noticed someone sneaking up behind him and patting him on the shoulder. Ronnie turned around and saw the officer of the support squads, Illyseh. Barahu lay down on all four paws and snored.

“It's a beautiful view here,” the old man said, “I come here from time to time.”

Ronnie did not answer, and Illyseh continued:

“Can't sleep? Me neither,” he paused, then continued, “nice rifle.”

“Nice armor,” Ronnie replied.

“Yes. You're right. The thing I like best about it is that no one can wear it, even after I'm dead. On the other hand, your Barrett has already been in the wrong hands.”

“It’s in my hands now. No one else will get it.”

The clouds drifted north, revealing the sparkling stars in the vast expanse. Ronnie saw a shooting star fly through the dark cosmic strata, followed by another and another. Then his gaze dropped downward. There on the hilly plain stood a solitary tree away from everything, surrounded by low grass that the wind whipped from side to side.

“Would you like to join our guild?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Ronnie did not take his eyes off the horizon. He felt free and calm, and Illyseh's low voice began to lull him. The sniper adjusted his rifle, scratched the stubble on his cheek, and said:

“Because those who chase power are spoiled people who are not really worth anything. Such people cannot be trusted.”

Illyseh smiled and took his helmet off. The conversation began to amuse the old man.

“You want to be first on the “murder” list. You look even more suspicious to me than we do.”

“I didn't say I was an exception.”

“So, there's no difference between us?”

“There is. You all pretend to be good. I don't need that.”

Illyseh became more serious. He walked to the battlements of the wall, on Ronnie's left, and looked up at the starry sky with him and said even more slowly and quietly:

“It all makes sense to me now.”

“What makes sense?”

“Why you avoid talking to Yleen.”

“Why is that?”

Illyseh seemed to Ronnie an extremely cold-blooded man who did not know the meaning of the word “annoyance”. The sniper turned toward the officer, leaned his shoulder on the merlon, and bowed his head slightly with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Obviously. The higher a man's rank, the more you reject him.”

“I'm talking to you,” Ronnie replied, studying his demeanor.

“You have no choice. I caught you myself.”

“I have it. I just love that you don't ask, ‘What happened in the woods?’”

“What happened there?”

“See you tomorrow.”

Illyseh smiled wryly.

“Think about my offer.”

“There's nothing to think about,” Ronnie replied as he made his way slowly down the stone stairs.

***

Vvy returned to the game and went outside the Varnasosto fortress towards the empty lands at the foot of the Orodrim Eowl mountains. There he ran into players hiding their own appearance under long black robes. Five of them. A girl with silver hair came up to him and said:

“I remind you that we can't take more than two orders. Are you sure about your decision? Once the contract is signed, there's no turning back.”

“I'm sure,” Vvy answered. “What’s your next move?”

She laughed.

“The less you know, the less suspicious you look.”

Vvy signed the electronic contract and said:

“We’re under suspicion already. Make sure no one is following you.”

“The same goes for you.”

He said goodbye with a nod and left.