16

Torgo

Rian retrieved his aviator shades from his inventory and put on them on again as he walked down one of Thile Harbor’s roads and toward the sun.

Miriad was…a real place? Was it even possible? Granted, it seemed realistic enough. But wasn’t this all supposed to be happening inside a powerful quantum computer? If the NPCs like Corvis were convinced that their world was real, and the lore of the game itself revolved around the idea of imparting human souls into Vessels… Was this really some kind of alternate world they were all walking around in?

The Undoing, Corvis had mentioned. The death of the four gods of Miriad. Everything had started with that. That was when everything had become game-like, when everything in this world had become bound to a System.

And that was when humans had started appearing in Miriad.

Is the System…something we brought with us?

He’d have to think about it more later. It was just a hunch, but there was a chance that Reflect Systems, the company behind Mirage, had intended to disguise this world as an MMO. That sounded completely schizophrenic when he thought over it. But being trapped inside a video game was about as equally insane.

“Corvis,” Rian whispered, “why exactly is your world being invaded? If humans are coming here to exploit it, what are they getting out of it?”

Floating alongside him, Corvis was silent for a moment. “The extraction of temporal energy. From Miriad to Earth. You’ll understand soon. But it’s a lot to take in, unfortunately. It always is, for off-worlders.”

He was right. Maybe if Rian spent a few hours grinding mobs, it would give him time to process it all. But right now, he needed to get to Elmguard.

Yeah, can’t think right now. Need to make numbers go up. Sooner that happens anyway, the sooner I’ll figure out what the hell’s really going on. I hope.

At the end of Thile Harbor’s road, Rian stepped out onto the plains and began alternating between sprinting and dashing to the forests beyond Jensen’s farm.

Past the area where he’d tested out his Dash skill on fellings, two players were duking it out in the middle of the road. Another player, a level 40 bowman wearing a feathered hat, watched the fight with his arms crossed. For some reason, his name was already visible: Lahir.

Rian stepped up beside him to watch as well. The two combatants, both Beginners, were swinging short swords at each other at a wide distance as if in anticipation of something. Then Rian saw it: one dashed toward the other with his sword held forward, light trailing behind him like an afterimage. He’d misjudged the distance and landed short, leaving him vulnerable to the other player, who swung and landed a hit on his arm.

A slashing effect appeared in the air followed by a damage number, the struck player recoiling slightly. The attack had taken nearly a third of his health.

“Nothing like breaking them in early,” the bowman, Lahir, said. He was quite tall, and his face was long and thin. He glanced at Rian. “Care to give it a try?”

“Oh, no. I—uh, should be focusing on leveling, right now.”

“You can do that in PVP, too, y’know.”

Rian watched as the two swordsmen resumed attempting to bait out the other’s dash.

Fighting other players sounded more fun than killing random creatures all day, but it would be magnitudes more dangerous in terms of getting killed.

Creatures at this stage were generally predictable and their AI was rudimentary, or at least it was supposed to be. Fighting the meina at the farm had Rian doubting himself on that. Even so, players could traditionally make wild decisions in their play style that no AI ever could. It would be a huge jump in difficulty, even this early in the game, and that—

Rian blinked. He could see their levels floating above the combatants’ heads, but there was also a name, in brackets. Not the players’ names, but their guild.

The two Beginners in front of him were members of LastWhisper.

Rian glanced at the capped bowman standing next to him, then exhaled in relief. Lahir’s guild’s name was Petrichor. Rian didn’t know for sure, but it was unlikely that they were hostile. Lahir probably would’ve killed him by now, otherwise.

As the two fighting players drew closer to Rian and Lahir, Rian stepped back to make room, but the bowman remained where he was. A sword swung near him, but he seemed entirely unfazed. Eventually the two swordsmen appeared to collide with him, but their bodies flickered and faded, and they passed right through. They continued their bout as if nothing had happened.

“What’s going on?” Rian muttered.

Lahir smiled, then held up a glass orb. “Just hosting a friendly brawl.”

Rian inspected the item.

PVP-Instancer Delta

Grade: C (Uncommon)

“Creates a localized, timed instance for PVP with stat balancing and no restrictions. Can sustain up to four players. The generated instance is transparent, allowing for local spectating.”

“It’s less messy than fighting on the Overworld,” Lahir said. “No chance of outside interference in the match, and you don’t have to worry about accidentally becoming involved as a bystander.”

“So they’re not actually…here?”

“Oh, no, they are. They’re just in a separate instance from us. One that everyone can see.”

One of the players swung short, and the other punished the miss by dashing through him, delivering a fatal blow. The struck swordsman fell to the ground. Standing over top of him, the other sheathed his sword as a column of air surrounded him, lifting the edges of his sleeves and his hair. A familiar sound played, of wind chimes in a rising tone.

The LEVEL UP text appeared above him and faded, bringing him to level eight.

Between the two swordsmen, a sphere of light rapidly expanded past both of them, and the subtle flickering of their bodies ceased. The fallen player, a level six Beginner with short black hair and freckles, stood up and bumped fists with the other. “Got me that time,” he said.

“Go again?” the other asked—the winning swordsman, who was slightly taller than Rian and with shoulder-length orange hair.

Lahir gently nudged Rian forward. “Actually,” he said, “it looks like someone would like to challenge you, Torgo.”

Rian tensed. Oh god why—

The Beginner named Torgo did a double take at Rian, then glanced above him for a moment. “So you’re part of Moonlight, huh?”

“Hah, yeah.” Rian scratched the back of his head. “I’m a bit new, though. I guess we’re supposed to be rivals, huh?”

“Hey, man, don’t worry.” Torgo stepped up beside him, put his arm around his shoulder and patted. His voice was slightly nasally, sounding like he had a cold in real life. “It’s all in good fun.” He was practically right in his face, but Rian saw it: the way his expression went suddenly blank as he asked the question: “What’s your name?”

“I should be getting along, I think,” Rian said. “I, uh, can’t risk dying right now.”

“What?” Lahir said. “Why?”

“Well…” They probably wouldn’t believe it if he told them the truth: that he was stuck and his connection to the game…or world, if he could believe Corvis…was more tenuous than usual. But he couldn’t let something like that spread around as a rumor, even if they wouldn’t think it was possible.

“If you’re afraid of losing XP,” Lahir said, “you don’t have to worry. You won’t lose any in PVP, even if you die.”

“Oh,” Rian said. “Well, that’s good to hear. But it’s more like…I’m afraid of dying.”

“You’re that timid?” the other Beginner said.

“I think you’re playing the wrong game, dude,” Torgo said. “Unless you’re going for some kind of no-death run.”

“No, it’s—” Rian sighed. “It’s complicated. My connection isn’t the greatest.” He thought for a moment about how to word it. “Every time I die, it’s destabilizing my connection. I think it’s gonna boot me out of the game at some point.”

As discretely as he could, he glanced over at Corvis, who was wandering between the trees and watching the leaves fall. Dammit, help me out here, man.

“Huh,” Lahir said. “Sounds like a technical issue.”

Corvis looked over at Rian and seemed to recognize the plea in his eyes. “You might not believe it, but I have some great news for you, Rian. You may fight other players inside instances such as the one your bowman friend can produce with his item, and if you die within such an instance, your reflection in the Cognitive Mirror will not degrade.”

Rian flinched and nearly shouted in astonishment.

Letting go of Rian’s shoulder, Torgo glanced aside at the trees—where Rian was looking. “Something out there?”

“The instancing item,” Corvis said, “creates a copy of you before initiating the fight. So if you die there, you technically don’t die. You simply revert to your previous self on the Overworld, rather than the whole Cognitive Mirror attempting to re-instantiate yourself from your off-world body. Ergo, no degradation.”

Rian gripped his fists, nearly wanting to pop off right there. This changed everything. Absolutely everything. It gave him an out: he could PVP his way to level cap without worrying about dying.

“But,” Corvis said, gently catching falling leaves out of the air, “to the great game, a death is still a death.”

Rian stood there for a moment, wondering what the hell that meant. Then it hit him. The locator item in his inventory. His way of finding Yindra. If he died in a PVP instance, it would transfer to whoever killed him.

He had no choice. If he walked away, this guy was probably going to stab him in the back; Rian wasn’t falling for his friendly shtick. And if he died outside of the PVP instance that the bowman could create, he would lose another life and the locator if someone killed him.

It was safer to fight him. If he lost, he’d keep his life, but the locator in his inventory would transfer to this guy, and that would probably be the end of his chances of finding Yindra this early.

But he couldn’t afford to risk his lives over that. Not if there were other ways.

“Eh,” Rian said at last, “you know what? It should be all right. I’ll give it a whirl.”

“Perfect!” Lahir said, clapping his hands together. “I’ll get you set up.” He pulled out the glass orb again and spoke, “Five minutes, best of one.”

Torgo turned to Rian and offered a hand. “Just a friendly match, right? I’m Torgo, by the way, in case you didn’t hear.”

“Allen,” Rian said, shaking his hand.

Torgo blinked, still smiling. “Allen, huh? You know, I feel like we’ve met before.”

An expanding sphere of light spread from the orb in the bowman’s hand. Rian and Torgo’s bodies began to glow a swirling blue as the light passed through them. The Beginner and the bowman shimmered then disappeared.

Torgo stepped back from Rian to provide some distance, and a countdown appeared in the air.

“Well,” Torgo said, chuckling. “There’s no backing out now.” He drew out his short sword and took a stance that immediately told Rian that this was a huge mistake—if only by the sheer confidence that Torgo was radiating. He was holding his sword inverted, slanted across himself, and spread his feet to slightly lower himself in a defensive stance.

“You really fell for that, huh?” Torgo said, his voice suddenly dropping all pretense of friendliness. “Like I’m gonna go easy on someone in her guild. Nah, I’m gonna kick your ass, moonie.”

Torgo is now your Adversary! (Companionship Level -1)

Victory EXP multiplier: 1.2x

[!] Negative Companionship Levels: Adversaries

Defeating adversaries in honorable combat will grant extra EXP upon victory. (Dishonorable kills will not provide bonuses.)

Swallowing, Rian pulled out his short sword and gripped it harder as the countdown approached zero.

Ready…

Go!