Weird.

Emm rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stared blank-faced. He couldn’t figure it out. The annoying beeps coming from his infected computer had started again. The monitor was back on, as well. Its screen was filled with blue boxes of varying sizes, same as last night.

It was beyond weird.

He made coffee in his kitchen and then sat down at his small bedroom desk. The windows were still dark, only letting in sparse light reflected off the snow. Other than the cars he’d learned to ignore since moving to the city, it was quiet.

The only noise interrupting the peace was the relentless beeping. Teasing. Taunting.

The stupid virus was the most advanced he’d ever seen. How did it automatically turn the monitor on? He was sure he’d turned it off last night. Holding the power button for ten seconds hadn't been enough to get his computer to shut down, but the same technique ended up working on the monitor. It stayed dark the entire night.

The attack had to be ransomware, a virus that locked a user’s computer and didn’t allow them to access it until they deposited money into the hacker’s account—and paying the hacker didn't work most of the time.

Where had he gotten the virus from? He was sure he hadn't downloaded anything recently. Especially not anything that had the potential to be malicious. Maybe his sister? She must have gotten his password.

He took another sip of coffee, still tongue-burning hot. No sugar, of course. He wasn’t a savage.

People claimed that caffeine was mostly a placebo. Well, placebo or not, Emm didn’t care if it helped wake him up in the morning.

The hacked screen was still displaying a big, red timer at the top. 00:34:11. It was the source of the headache-inducing beeps. Ticking down every second. Beep. Beep. All his data would probably get wiped when it reached zero.

Not like he had anything important on there. All his important photos were backed-up on the internet but re-downloading his media would be such a pain in the ass. He had the same computer since high school and had since collected quite a horde of junk.

Emm scratched his head. Even if he wanted to pay and risk being scammed, which he most definitely didn’t, the hacker had left no payment information. Below the timer, the screen was filled with options that he could select or unselect, followed by a chunky “CONFIRM” button. He’d tried clicking on it many times, but it only played more beeps.

And the options sounded like something from a video game.

[Melee Expert (Rare)]: -20 Perk Points
All melee attacks deal 10% increased damage.

[Mute (Common)]: +10 Perk Points
Blocked from speaking.

[Pacifist (Rare)]: +50 Perk Points
Blocked from using [Skills] while in combat.

[Pure Caster (Epic)]: +20 Perk Points
Blocked from using [Skills] that deal physical damage.

[Pyro Expert (Rare)]: -25 Perk Points
All [Fire] attacks deal 10% increased [Fire] damage.

[Determined (Common)]: -15 Perk Points
WIL attribute increased by 5%.

[Bad Haggler (Common)]: +5 Perk Points
Sell all items at a 50% reduced price.

The list went on and on. There had to be over fifty choices.

Emm only spared them a glance. The various boxes were mostly meaningless nonsense to him. It was a character creation screen of some kind, with both positive and negative traits. He didn’t know which game they were referencing or why the options were even there.

He didn’t have time for this. He already lost too much sleep. He had to get ready for work, and it was already too late to call a technician to save his computer.

Perhaps he could cheat that stupid timer?

Without giving it a second thought, he crawled under his desk and unplugged the power cord. Yesterday he’d been worried it would wipe his disk, but today he couldn’t think of a way to save it regardless. Who knew, maybe it would work. He would call an expert to get it checked out after his shift to get their opinion. He hadn’t had to remove a virus himself in, what, over ten years? His dad had accidentally downloaded one onto the family computer from some porn site.

That was such an awkward conversation. Asking his teenage son to fix the computer and coming up with elaborate excuses. Emm couldn’t help but smirk at the memory. Cleaning up that virus had been easy, though. Much easier than whatever he was dealing with now.

Well, it would have to wait. Work first.

A quick shower later and Emm got dressed, washed his teeth and left the apartment in a hurry. He lived on the fifth floor, just high enough that taking the stairs beat waiting for the ancient snail of an elevator. It wasn’t a super nice building, but the rent was cheap and the location was good. Only a fifteen-minute drive to work. He’d gotten used to the commute and couldn’t imagine spending hours in traffic every day. He did not understand how so many people put up with it. It was completely ridiculous.

The traffic on the highway was a little slower and more crowded than usual. People were driving carefully because of the light layer of frost on the roads. At least the car smelled nice, courtesy of a new air freshener hanging off his rear-view mirror. Lemon-mint.

Emm’s fingers fidgeted on the wheel. He was worried. The meeting with the client was going to start soon and, as the new guy, being late could cost him his job.

He’d worked on a presentation for the marketing campaign for the last two weeks straight. There was no way in hell he was going to let it all go to waste from something as idiotic as an annoying virus.

'Sorry I’m late boss, the dog ate my homework! Oh, what do you mean I’m fired?'

The situation didn’t get any better when a fuel tanker, out of all things, rudely cut in front of him. It was so big it blocked half his vision of the road, and so slow it made Emm want to gouge his eyes out. Or no, even better, he wanted to freeze time, get out of his car, run up to the tanker’s driver’s door, jump in all GTA-style, and gouge his eyes out.

There were absolutely no chances to overtake the monstrosity, either. They were moving at a decent speed. He could still make it in time if the red lights didn’t screw him over once he’d entered the city center. Knowing his luck, though, that was bound to happen.

Desperate, Emmanuel resorted to the only thing he could think of to vent out his stress, no matter how futile it was.

He slammed his hand down on the horn, and —

An accursed, high-pitched beep filled his ears, far louder than any before, and far louder than the sound of his car’s honk had any right to be.

*Countdown: 00:00:03*

A huge blue screen with a timer suddenly materialized in front of his face, accompanying the sound.

*Countdown: 00:00:02*

Another one appeared, and it scared the hell out of him, he couldn’t help but shout out loud. He tried to shy away from them, but the screens were covering most of his field of view. In a fit of panic, he accidentally did the single most stupid thing he could’ve done.

He hit the brakes.

*Countdown: 00:00:01*

Another blue screen, another loud beep, followed by a deafening crash from behind. His body was jerked violently, and Emm did his best to try and take control of the wheel, but it was pointless. He was still blind from the barrage of blue messages filling his vision.

He was swerving across the slippery road.

*Starting Scan…*

The first crash was followed by another. And then another. It turned into a chain reaction. At some point, he banged his head. The airbag didn’t help any. He could feel the cascade of crashes and metal crunching together.

I'm going to die.

*Countdown: 00:00:00*
*Scan Complete. Relocating…*

They must’ve hit the fuel tanker at some point, too.

At least, that would explain the fiery inferno of an explosion that swallowed him whole, burning the last traces of his consciousness away with it.

*Granting System…*
*Error: User Not Found*
*Error: User Not Found*
*Error: User Not Found*
*Error: User Not Found*
*Error: User Not Found*
…
*Error: User Not Found*
*Error: System Not Granted*

*Relocation Complete*

 

---

 

Emm woke up to a bucketful of freezing cold water splashing down on his head.

He sat up with a start, screamed for a brief moment, then stopped once he met the eyes of the imposing figure standing above him. Emm's eyes were drawn to his impressive mustache. The man looked like a knight.

If knights could be seven feet tall, that is.

“I think this one’s broken,” the man said.