Shadeslinger

I took off my pants, grabbed the four-person sushi platter I’d ordered off the kitchen counter, and plopped onto the couch. “Are you certain I can’t order you something healthier, sir?” House said, her toneless voice sounding from every direction at once. She was a one-of-kind AI I’d inherited from my father, and while she made for a pretty effective digital maid, she could be a little overbearing. “There’s nothing wrong with rice and fish,” I said. “With all due respect,” House said, “a meal designed for a family of four is never healthy when eaten alone. Perhaps you’d like some company?” “Mmm,” I said. “Pass.” “What about Ethan?” House said. “Shall I see if he’s free?” “Why? So he can spend the whole evening hounding me to invest in whatever doomed product he’s currently pushing? Yeah, no.” I skewered a piece of volcano roll with a plastic fork and shoveled it into my mouth. “I hate that guy. I’m still annoyed I ever considered him a friend.” “Perhaps Stephanie, then? You haven’t responded to her messages, and she has been trying to contact you for the better part of a month.” “Nope,” I said. “I don’t have any interest in having a girlfriend who thinks I should pay her rent two months into a relationship just because I can. Been down that road too many times before, and I know exactly where it leads.” “Aidan might—” “I’m fine, House,” I said around a mouthful of spicy tuna. “I don’t need company. I don’t want company.” “But, sir…it’s your birthday. And societal norms dictate you ought to spend your birthday with those you’re closest to.” I grabbed a warm beer off the floor, cracked it open, and raised it in a mock toast. “Well, here we are, House. To a birthday with my closest friend.” House hesitated. “Do I misunderstand, or are you referring to me, sir?” “I sure am.” It still felt a little strange to vocalize that to a glorified computer—and House was a far cry from a real person—but in a lot of ways, she was the perfect friend. She was even-keeled, unflinchingly honest, and endlessly supportive, and I never worried she was only sticking in my orbit because I had money. “Oh,” House said. “I am flattered, sir. However, I maintain that some human contact would be beneficial to your long-term health. Several recent studies suggest those who willingly isolate themselves from society for prolonged periods—” “Or—and I want you to hear me out on this—I could spend my birthday doing exactly what I want. Which is to watch Earthblood Online air their first trailer. Alone. So I can enjoy it in peace.” “I apologize,” House said. “In hindsight, it is clear I’ve overstepped the bounds of my role. I am simply concerned for your well-being.” “I know, I know. But I really am fine, House. This trailer is going to be the first look at actual gameplay that EBO has put out. I’ve been looking forward to this game for years, and finally getting some concrete details on how the world works is gonna be amazing. Today’s going to be a good day, I promise.” “I understand. How can I be of assistance?” “Can you turn on the telewall and see if Tyrann’s live? He’s one of the streamers introducing the game.” I glanced at my phone. “And the trailer should be hitting the feeds any minute now.” “Of course. I’ll tap you into his stream.” The entirety of the opposite wall—a twenty-foot-wide panoramic window that spanned ceiling to floor—flashed from transparent to black, presenting me with a bird’s eye view of an army of red-skinned orcs crashing into a much larger force of elves. Tyrann looked out from a window in the bottom left quadrant of the screen, his suntanned face showing no strain whatsoever as he micromanaged dozens of units while chatting with his viewers. He paused the game and cleared his throat. “Hey guys, the moment we’ve all been waiting for is finally here.” “Oh my God,” I said. “This is it.” I tossed my fork onto the platter and leaned forward on the couch, hands on knees. Everything in me had gone electric. It felt like my very bones were buzzing. “I’m thrilled to be one of the streamers chosen to present the first-ever glimpse into Earthblood Online,” Tyrann said. “For those of you who’ve been living under the world’s largest rock, this is the VRMMO I’ve been raving about for the last few months. You know, the one I took out a second mortgage for so I could upgrade my pod. “Supposedly, EBO is the first game to offer complete immersion. That means smell, taste, everything. Can you even imagine what that would feel like? A game you can play without your senses constantly reminding you that what you’re experiencing isn’t real? I can’t be the only one who’s tired of sitting down to these legendary-looking feasts only to bite into a turkey leg that tastes like cardboard.” He paused and shook his head. “Anyway, here it is. Let’s all just hope it measures up to the hype.” I cupped the sides of my face with both hands. I felt my pulse in my fingertips. The telewall faded to black, then presented an over-the-shoulder view of a warrior in bronze armor sprinting through shin-deep water. He had a massive greatsword strapped between his shoulder blades, and the weapon bounced against his armor as he ran. About fifty feet ahead of the warrior, a burning village was throwing cinders into the sky as a squad of raiders dressed in dark leather loosed flaming arrows over its stone wall. The warrior reached the shoreline and drew his blade, an arc of water flying off the huge, double-edged weapon. Then the telewall split into two screens, and suddenly there were two warriors, each facing an identical village. The warrior on the left crashed into the raiders from behind, carving a bloody swath through their ranks with wide, sweeping strikes. But the warrior on the right simply nodded to the nearest bandit and continued toward the village. He raised his weapon and swung it in one smooth motion, sending an arc of silver light flying toward the village’s protective wall. The stone barrier shattered inward, and the raiders poured through the gap, hooting and hollering with torches in hand, melting around the warrior as if he were one of their own. I chewed my fingernails as the two independent scenes played out, as one warrior saved the village while the other razed it to the ground. The screens split a second time, and then there were four warriors, all of them working their way through different takes on the same scenario: one of the warriors on the right split the spoils of war with the bandits and went on his way; another killed their leader and declared himself their king. At the same time, one of the warriors on the left agreed to rebuild the town while the other demanded the mayor pay for his aid. Then the screens split again, and there were eight warriors, there were sixteen, there were thirty-two, sixty-four, a hundred and— “Choice,” a deep voice said from offscreen as the warriors continued to multiply. “The great failing of the MMO. The problem is fundamental: how do you make your mark on a world whose fate has been predetermined? The answer is as frustrating as it is simple: you don’t. Until now.” “Holy. Crap,” I said. “What you’re seeing is actual gameplay,” the voice said. “Hundreds of different players working through the same questline, all to vastly different results. Because in Earthblood Online, not only do your choices matter, they shape reality itself. “Our world is one of dynamic change, a world in which cities rise and fall in real time, a world where your every action—or inaction—ripples out in meaningful ways. Hence the name of the engine that powers this new world: The Ripple System. “But this is so much more than a game,” the voice continued. “This is the wild west of our generation; it’s the last true frontier. This is an opportunity to leave your life behind and start over with new friends, new goals, new enemies. This is your chance to become a legend in a world that’s so advanced, so immersive, that it’s completely indistinguishable from reality, except in the many, many ways we’ve made it better.” I leaned closer still, wide-eyed with hope. “And for fifty lucky players, the adventure of a lifetime begins in three days. For those of you brave enough to take the plunge, we’re putting fifty lifetime memberships up for sale via an online auction at this very moment.” The warriors disappeared, replaced by the game’s name written in crisp white letters set against a black background, with a blue hyperlink beneath. Then a third line of white text scrolled across the bottom of the screen: Your new life awaits. “Each membership includes access to an ultra-exclusive, three-day Head Start period, plus one of our revolutionary, full dive pods, delivered and installed free of charge. The first pods of their kind, devices so advanced they eliminate the need to logout entirely.” “Wait, what!” I said aloud. “No logout?” Between that and three days of exclusive access…what could I do with that? What couldn’t I do with that? If I could get in three days ahead of everyone else, I didn’t see any reason why I couldn’t finally break into the top tier of players and make a name for myself. An early jump was exactly the edge I needed to make that happen.