A large percentage of the Pheilett society was suffering from virtual reality addiction, and Peramondigrovnith wasn’t below admitting that he was one of those addicts. He had left his home only for a few hours, yet he couldn’t help but sigh in obvious pleasure when he arrived back. Life outside the VR was simply too mundane; compared to the lives Pera lived within the Game of Ascension, his own life was stale and boring.

“Welcome back, Peramond,” his AI assistant’s feminine voice spoke as Pera entered the vestibule. “Please undress for the decontamination to begin.”

By the time his assistant finished speaking, Pera was already halfway out of his suit. The air on his pale green skin felt pleasantly cool, but he itched to dive into his pool already. Neon lights washed over his naked skin, cleansing him as well as scanning for potential threats. The process didn’t take more than a couple of moments.

“Decontamination completed,” his assistant chimed. “Peramond, you haven’t eaten in the last 5 hours. Would you like me to prepare dinner?”

“Not now, my dear,” Pera said. “Have it ready in three hours, and notify me beforehand. I’ll be in my VR suit.”

“As you wish, Peramond. Have a great day.”

Pera left the vestibule, heading straight for his underwater compartments and diving into the water head-first. He floated aimlessly for a second, enjoying the water as it entered his gills, then fanned the fins along his legs and swam lazily to his gaming room. The lights were dimmer here, most of the illumination being provided by the simulator tube in the middle of the chamber. Pera gave a mental command for his gaming station to boot up, his encephalic chip forwarding the signal to his headset. By the time Pera reached his VR suit and strapped himself in, the system was ready to go. He lowered the headset over his head, took a moment to adjust it so that it covered all three of his eyes perfectly, then initiated a connection to the GoA servers.

Being one of the most popular entertainment platforms, the Game of Ascension provided a vast variety of ways to observe their shows. Pera preferred the subscription-based exclusive access to the Players who caught his interest, following the lives of up to five or six of them at a time. He liked to watch the action-oriented highlights first, then switch to the uncut footage of their daily lives to wind down if he was too high on adrenaline.

As for today, he’d watch one of his newest favorites first. Pera had probably missed some of his action sequences, but he could always watch them on playback. He navigated through the GoA’s menus quickly, the AI system built into the platform having guessed correctly what he was going for.

“Connect me to Player Pell,” he gave the final mental command. His vision faded for a moment and he felt a brief, sharp pain in the back of his head—but the unpleasantness was gone so quickly that Pera wasn’t even sure he had felt it at all.

He found himself floating in the sky of Nerilia, with the Western Woods stretching below him in every direction. The outline of a single Human Player was highlighted deep below the ground, right where the Dungeon lay. Pera looked at the floating screens around him, noting with disappointment that only a single highlight clip had come out since he left. Had the Players cleared the Dungeon already, or had something else come up? Only one way to find out! Pera selected Pell’s latest highlight, and his vision faded again.

Although the transition didn’t hurt this time, it was a great deal more disorientating. Jumping into the body of someone else tended to have that effect; it required time to get used to. The trick was to imagine this experience as watching a fully-immersive movie instead of treating it like a VR game. GoA provided a lot of different kind of spectator modes, so everyone could find what suited them the best.

As a practiced VR user, Pera liked deep-dives the best. Not only were they the most intimate out of all the spectator modes, but the technology had made some great advances over the last millennia to make the experience even more enjoyable. Emotion filters and adjustable pain intensity were welcome features for shutting out the more unpleasant aspects of the deep-dive, and the popularization of races with Pheilett-like bodies helped a lot too. It felt much more natural to be in a Human’s or a Sylven’s body than wearing a Zzartok’s skin. For those who found the lack of a third eye annoying, there were features for extending the field of vision artificially.

After a brief intro sequence displayed over Pera’s vision, he found himself in Pell’s body. Tall and strong, with remarkable endurance. Pell felt nervous at the moment, and so did Pera. He kept glancing at his brown-haired Human companion called Tamara. Fondness, perhaps even love. Strange feelings, considering how little he knew Tamara, but Humans were fickle like that. Part of their charm came from their fast-paced emotions.

Pera’s fondness for Tamara was interlaced with another emotion, something he recognized instantly; worry. He was keenly aware of the four Sylven men behind him. Last time when Randel had set them free, Pera and Tamara ran away together. The two of them encountered a small group of swellers however, and the sounds of the battle led the Sylven Players back to them. They had been the only ones Lord Tengi’quinn and his band had managed to capture, and now they were in a tight spot. The Sylven men’s ire was palpable, but they hadn’t taken it out on Pera and Tamara … yet.

“He had twisted her mind, that’s the only explanation,” Rimuto’quinn said in the Sylven tongue. There was a little bit of disconnect with that, because Pell didn’t understand the words but Pera’s encephalic chip translated them readily.

“Stop fretting about the woman,” Lord Tengi’quinn said. “There’s only one place they could have gone from here, and it shouldn’t be difficult to find a Sylven woman in a Terran city.”

“What if that man gets her pregnant by then?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Lord Tengi’quinn said. “Have you heard about any Sylven siring a child to a Terran woman?”

“Well, no, but this is the other way around. What if the Terran man can—”

“Enough,” Lord Tengi’quinn snapped. “Keep your dark thoughts to yourself, Rimuto’quinn, and concentrate on our Quest. The faster we find the Core, the sooner we’ll find—”

He fell silent mid-sentence, and Pera’s body reacted to that by tensing up. Anticipation. Fear. He looked around quickly, his eyes traveling to Tamara first before stopping at the Sylven men—who were all looking at one direction. From a narrow alleyway that wasn’t illuminated by any plants, a small figure emerged.

“Are you the people who killed the Portal Maker?” the newcomer asked on a high-pitched voice.

Surprise. Recognition. Pera took a step toward the elderly Thardos with the magical staff.

“Vuplu?” Pera asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, it’s you,” Vuplu said, his whiskers twitching. “I, uh, came when the portals reopened.”

“A Ratkin who speaks languages,” Lord Tengi’quinn said. None of his men had lowered their weapons. “Tell me, old man: why are you carrying the Dungeon Core attached to a staff?”

Vuplu jerked in fright, pulling his staff closer to himself. The indigo orb on top of his staff visibly darkened.

“I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Pell didn’t know what was going on either, but Pera sensed his concern. It wasn’t difficult to see that the Sylven men were rounding on the poor old man. The Thardos tried to slink back to the alleyway, but the staff suddenly flew out of his hands and landed in Rimuto’quinn’s.

“No! Give it back!”

“It really is the Dungeon Core,” Rimuto’quinn said, ignoring Vuplu as he inspected the orb. “I can’t believe it. Where is the boss?”

It was precisely at that moment that Vuplu’s scared visage disappeared, his elongated face contorting into a devious grin.

“Perish,” the old man said, and the magical staff in Rimuto’quinn’s hand exploded.

Tamara threw herself at Pera at the same time, encasing both of them in a Protective Bubble to save their lives. Alarm. Fear. Gratitude. Pera watched the purple flames of the explosion lick the surface of the barrier, unable to break it. A moment later it was over and they were standing amidst blackened stone and burning plants. The smoke stung Pera’s eyes and made it difficult to breathe, but that was the least of his concerns. Vuplu stood in the center of the street, clutching the Dungeon Core in his hands and laughing.

Of the Sylven group, Rimuto’quinn was on his knees, his charred armor falling off him as it turned into ash. Lord Tengi’quinn and Damoro’quinn had probably teleported out because they were standing farther down to street, while Hano’quinn—his full plate shone brightly as he charged at Vuplu. The Sylven man’s shield hit the old man squarely in the face, sending him flying into the nearest building. The Dungeon Core flew out of Vuplu’s hand as he hit the stone structure with a crunch, crumpling to the ground. Hano’quinn was upon him a moment later, impaling Vuplu’s chest in case the shield-slam hadn’t killed him.

“Well, that was easy,” Rimuto’quinn said as he got on his feet. “A shame for the armor, though I wanted to buy a better one anyway. I really hate ambushes, have I told you that?”

“A few times,” Hano’quinn said, sheathing his bloody sword. “Strange. We didn’t get any souls from the old man.”

Rimuto’quinn snorted. “He was halfway in the grave already, maybe that’s why.”

Hano’quinn chased after the Dungeon Core that rolled away during the fight, while Rimuto’quinn waited for the other two men to walk back to them. Pera felt horrified.

“What just happened?” he whispered to Tamara.

“I don’t know,” Tamara whispered back.

“Watch out!” Lord Tengi’quinn yelled, his voice echoing sharply. Alarm. Pera jumped aside and pulled Tamara with him, but it wasn’t actually them that the Sylven Lord was talking about. A dark shape was emerging out of Vuplu’s corpse, pooling like black ink on the canvas of reality. It was a wraith with burning green eyes that Pera recognized instantly to be a shade.

“No—” was all Rimuto’quinn managed to say before the shade surged forward and slammed into his face.

“By the Creator!” Hano’quinn yelled, dropping the Dungeon Core to raise his shield instead. “Rimuto’quinn!”

The bald Sylven’s body twitched as the shade entered him, then fell utterly still for a heartbeat—then began to laugh.

“Rimuto’quinn is gone,” Lord Tengi’quinn said as the shade drew Rimuto’quinn’s sword. Damoro’quinn lifted his rifle at his former companion, but didn’t dare to fire. As for Pera—he wanted to run, but the compulsion wasn’t letting him. Terror. His palms were sweating now, and his throat felt dry. Lord Tengi’quinn raised a hand to his face, and Pera couldn’t help but look into his glowing eyes.

“You don’t want to attack anyone,” Lord Tengi’quinn said. “You just want to—”

“Oh, please,” the shade said, chuckling. “Do you really believe your pathetic mind tricks can affect us?”

The shade then laughed some more at the look of dismay on the Sylven Lord’s face.

“Now,” the otherworldly being continued, “let us see what this body is capable of.”

The creature pointed its sword upwards, and a blinding arc of lighting struck the Sylven men from above. The explosion of sound was followed by a loud series of bangs as Damoro’quinn fired a round of tiny yellow bullets from his rifle. The shade took them without flinching, the shots ruining its clothing but failing to penetrate its skin.

“Don’t kill it by accident!” Lord Tengi’quinn shouted. He was unharmed, since Hano’quinn’s shield had eaten up the entire lighting strike. “And don’t let it kill itself either!”

“Ask something easier!” Damoro’quinn quipped back, his rifle transforming to shoot a laser beam at the shade. At the same time, Lord Tengi’quinn reached out with both hands to animate the shadows around the shade, grabbing at its arms and feet—futilely. Rimuto’quinn had been a tank Player, and even in a ruined armor the shade would not be stopped so easily. Its skin shone like a polished mirror as it charged, shrugging off the shadows before slamming its sword into Hano’quinn’s shield.

“Come,” Tamara tugged on Pera’s shirt. “Quickly.”

Surprise. Hope. Just like Pell, Pera hadn’t even realized that their compulsion had worn off! He and Tamara slipped away quickly while the Sylven men were distracted by the shade, then ran down street after street in the general direction of the elevator. From time to time, lightning strikes struck the ground behind them. There was a deep rumble, and at one point a boulder with the size of a small house slammed into the buildings just ahead of them. Tamara changed directions quickly to make a detour, and Pera followed. His fear returned. They were so far from the elevator still! They would not be able to run all the way there in one go.

The sound of battle slowly died down, but Pera couldn’t be sure of its outcome. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. He could die at any moment, either by the shade or the Sylven men if they caught up to them, or by finding swellers in this abandoned city. Tamara had lost her spear, so she would have to rely on Pera’s fists. The two of them slowed down to a walk before they could tire themselves out too much, and Pera looked up at the arena that hung up above, trying to gauge how far the hole in its center was—where the elevator would be found.

Suddenly Pera heard a sharp noise behind himself, sounding disturbingly close; footsteps, and steel grating stone. Alarm. Pera and Tamara broke out in a run once again.

“Humans!” a voice hollered from behind. “Please stop running! There is, uh, nothing to fear!”

That just made Pera run even faster, his heart beating in his chest frantically. He glanced behind as he and Tamara rounded a corner, and caught a dark shape moving toward them—fast. Panic.

“Throw an Orb behind!” Pera shouted, and Tamara tossed back a Gravity Orb just as the creature behind them rounded the corner. It was Hano’quinn, the other tank Player—except something was clearly wrong with him. His helmet was missing, his armor had numerous dents on it, and his arms seemed to be broken … yet he still dragged an enormous sword behind him while running faster than Pera or Tamara. It was the shade without a doubt.

The Gravity Orb turned black right in front of the creature’s face, ending its rush abruptly. Its body bunched up around the Orb, but then there was a crack, and the shade dropped back down to the ground. Pera looked back to Tamara. Desperation. Worry. Resolve. He slowed down and stopped, letting Tamara run ahead.

Protective Shell activated.

Tamara glanced back as the stone was ripped out of the ground to cover Pera’s body, the frightened look on her face turning surprised.

“Go,” Pera said. “I’ll keep him here.”

Tamara hesitated only briefly before running on. Disappointment. It lasted only a moment, though. Pera turned to face the shade as it picked itself up from the ground, feeling his heart beat even faster. He was afraid, yet he felt strangely … warm. Resolute. He bought Tamara some time to escape. That felt right.

“Come on!” Pera yelled as the last bits of stone closed around his head, keeping only a narrow slit open for vision.

Consecutive Punches triggered.

Pera slammed his fists together, advancing on the shade. He hit his fists against each other again, this time with twice as much force. When he slammed them together for the third time, it actually hurt him; the pain radiated from his hands up to his arms.

“Take this!”

Pera threw a ramped-up punch at the shade, but the creature easily stepped out of the way and retaliated by swinging its sword at him. The massive weapon took Pera in his side, shattering stone and launching him into a building. Even with pain suppression set to 50%, Pera could barely think. The shade’s sword came at him again, and all he could do was to raise his hands to protect his head. The force of the impact swept his arms aside and slammed him into the wall of the building again, crying out and blinking tears of pain.

Domain unlocked: Solid as Stone

The ground shook as something bloomed within Pera’s mind. He felt … vast. He felt all the stone around him, all the walls, the carved buildings, the massive weight of the cavern around him. Power. Hope. He yelled defiantly, and the stone echoed his yell, rumbling around him as cracks formed—

“None of that now,” the shade said right before its sword separated Pera’s head from his body. Shock. Sadness. As Pera’s vision went dark, his very last emotion was a vague sense of regret.

Your host has died.
What would you like to do next?
[Watch another highlight]
[Switch to omniview mode]
[Back to Player selection screen]

Peramondigrovnith gasped sharply as he was suddenly himself again. His hands went up to his neck, his heart beating almost as fast as Pell’s had beaten. He switched to omni-view mode quickly, going back to the skies of Nerilia, floating above the forest. He then closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.

That was … brutal. Such intense emotions! Pera liked heroic Players for this very reason; even in their darkest hour, even when they trembled in fear, their courage shone through every shadow. Their love and concern in the face of evil was simply too beautiful, too intoxicating to behold.

Such a shame that they tended to die early.

Pera closed his eyes, allowing himself to float above the clouds, thinking about what he had just seen. The appearance of the shade was a bit disappointing, really. Pera had suspected that Pell wouldn’t be able to leave the Dungeon alive, but he had been hoping for a few more fight scenes before the end.

Briefly, Pera considered going back to the Dungeon to find out what happened to Tamara and Lord Tengi’quinn … but truth be told, he didn’t care much for their fate. The only reason he was concerned for Tamara was Pell’s lingering emotions. So … what to do next? Pera still had a lot of time till dinner, but he didn’t want to jump back to his usual Players. They were all getting more and more boring as the years passed. Pera wanted someone new.

“Show me the location of Player Randel,” he said. His virtual body flew closer to the city of Fortram, highlighting a figure who stood in line at the city’s gate.

Randel wasn’t exactly a heroic Player, and Pera had his doubts about how much he would enjoy him. The prototype weapon he carried didn’t interest him all that much; the Organizers were doing little tweaks and new additions to the Game of Ascension all the time, and a demonic weapon didn’t seem to be such a novel idea.

Apart from that, Randel was a frustratingly irresponsible person in general. Pera knew that many Spectators complained about him on the forums; some people claimed that he was a jerk, that he was undeserving of the prototype weapon, that he should just die already. From what Pera had seen through Pell’s eyes, he was inclined to agree.

Yet there were many Spectators who claimed the opposite, Spectators who really enjoyed journeying with Randel. They said that his entertainment value lay in his unusual quirks, which felt like a breath of fresh oxygen for all the old-timer GoA fans. Many were also intrigued by his personality, curious to see which way it would grow.

Oh, well. Whatever was the case, Randel was undeniably gaining followers rapidly; Pera might as well see for himself what the hype was about. His heart was still racing from Pell’s fight, so he figured that watching Randel explore the city would be a nice way to relax. He paid the subscription fee for the deep-dive spectator mode, after which a familiar configuration screen greeted him.

Calibration in progress – please wait.

Calibration done – first contact established.

You are now spectating Player Randel.

Welcome to the Game of Ascension!

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End of Act 1: First contact