Vernon took a day off from the Hub to rest, but also to wait out Phage’s user. Clearly wherever she went next was somewhere she wanted to go alone. He slept well past what he thought he would and felt great. The day would start with a workout including a longer run, then it was to the couch to wipe some movies off of his watch-list. He needed it. Things had gotten overly complicated inside the other side, so taking some time to decompress worked wonders. Laying there with a hand in a bag of chips with the late morning lights blocked out by blinds and curtains, Vernon digested not just physically, but mentally as well. He tried not to, but the urge to browse forums was too tempting when the movie’s pace died down. Nothing.

He spent a lot of time with Phage on his mind – not as the God-tier firebrand who nuked him, but the other side. Was feeling something for an NPC, while not unheard of, healthy? The vast majority of her kind were not capable of such interaction, but there were a few who could take it to the next level, but not like this. Phage was above and beyond them in every way, a prototype for what they all could be. A lot of existential questions were roused when he pondered her validity. He considered the existence of the soul in general before settling on that yes, they have to exist, because she had one. There was a peace of mind in reconciling that belief, and he felt like a stronger person for it.

On his third movie of an overhyped trilogy, a message came in with a subject line he couldn’t ignore. It was an invite to speak, promised to be quick, by none other than Indreas. Instead of logging in, he activated his home’s augmented reality to project the image of a small kitchen inside a small hut somewhere inside the Realm. Dymir sat at the table across from the ravaged mage and his fate nearly worse than death. His inventory was empty, every last point of experience siphoned and his wealth stolen, yet still he sat and spoke with authority, “My granddaughter is an excellent judge of character,” He said, “so I’ve chosen to both trust and warn you.”

Phage’s user used this NPC for decades so if anyone knew anything about him, it would be Indreas, “The user,” He yearned to know, “Who is it??”

“What is it, would be the better question,” Indreas replied, “Whatever that is, in your world, he does the very same thing.” Something old in Vernon’s brain shuddered, “When he logs in, he does so as whichever one of you is nearest to his console, literally entering the Hub through it.”

“So, what she saw was correct,” Dymir realized, “When they switch places, she told me she caught glimpses of an empty room.”

“Because whoever he wore to get there went about their business.” Indreas said, “We think he has a multitude of vessels, but a main he uses most.”

“We??”

“The Hub has become complex enough for higher beings to covet it, but also for others to want to protect it.” The statement was hopeful, if not also disturbing, “Different types of forces, even.” He gestured around them, not to the kitchen but to the entire Hub, “A fresh world, ripe for the picking for the first to figure out how to exploit it. My coalition strives to better the Hub and improve its defenses. We can’t let them just have it without a fight.”

“You’re pretty sure of his bad intentions.”

“The bad ones strive for control.” Indreas told him, “However much he has in your world, he wants more. I have memories leftover from when he logged out, and there is a hunger in him that may only be satiated by taking an entire world for himself. Vernon, and simultaneously Dymir clutched his arm. Was he ‘logged into’ for the limb upgrade he couldn’t remember? Before he could panic, Indreas calmed him with an all-too familiar axiom, “What I have comes from him and what he has comes from me,” He pointed to his arm, but not Dymir’s arm… Vernon’s, “I did that.”

What made Indreas so valuable to the cause was the unique ability he absorbed from his user to possess others. Like the user, his avatars were limited, but differently so. Indreas was only able to take those with an implant like Vernon’s or like it. He explained that Phage had been watched ever since it was confirmed she was being used, and that Dymir had been noted as a potential ally to the cause, “You gave me these limbs because you think I might need to defend myself with them,” Vernon surmised correctly, “Against him.”

“Whatever he is, he is also real, perhaps even realer than real.” Indreas was certain in his conviction, “If you side with us, there could be real-world implications, but if you care at all for the Hub, and I mean all of it or any of it, you’ll side with us. Against him.” Many of the monsters inside the Hub were based on fables and tales from the outside world, making Vernon’s mind drown in which he could be, if any, or worse. The fact was, he cared very much about the Hub, enough so to idolize people like Sol, and to care about a person like Phage.

“And if I refuse?”

“We take back what we gave you, and treat you accordingly.”

“Alright,” He threw his hands up in submission, “What do you want me to do?” Indreas told him about the Hellcrystals being farmed in the plane of the damned he visited with Phage to find Sol. A weapon was being forged for an unborn boss with the highest rate of perma-death ever seen inside the Hub. It was to be their defense against any threat to breach their realm, and its potential for abuse was lost on no one. It was to be sealed behind the true door at the top of the Spire where it could only be used by anyone who could pass the unbeknownst trial within. “But killing Phage only makes the user start over – and it kills Phage!!”

“It is not what any of us want, and it only delays the user, who will be back.” Indreas assured him, “There is another way that can both free her and banish the user at a heavy cost to Phage.”

“Which is?”

“The user has curated my bloodline for his sick endeavours.” He replied, “Phage is the most advanced of our kind, a chosen one, at whom the bloodline must end. This will delay him long enough for us to be infallibly prepared.” He shrugged, “It’s the most we can do to protect our world from him, and it must cost us our next generation, at least until we know for sure.” The statement hung in the air. Who knew what this thing was up to in the real world, let alone who was handling it, let alone how?

Over the course of their conversation, Dymir learned a lot about what his lover’s grandfather had to endure under decades of living with the user. It wasn’t just about the possession at his whim, Indreas was the prototype for the next big thing. This meant he was much more advanced than any NPC and for decades. At times it was maddening, having free will in a world who’s build at the time ran evermore heavily on script. For a while he saw it as torture, when his wife, neighbours, even children acted very little outside their programming and he wondered at some point if he was insane. But he knew full-well that he wasn’t, and came to see that pre-set life as a comfortable way to forget it all.

When Phage was born, everything changed. Indreas knew from the first time she opened her eyes what her destiny was to be. His user had created an alt character, one just as advanced, more so, based on her ability to use skills regardless of zone. Other NPCs were evolving naturally as the algorithm did, prompting the rare one who would fight back against a user regardless of the odds. The potential in Phage would make her something to reckon with; the first feather on the scale. After Indreas was reborn at the altar, he was now bound to his freedom, which only lasted as long as the user was oblivious to it. The decision to stay away was made in the name of survival, and of putting his best efforts into thwarting the user.

Life was made better with every avatar dragged to the Altar of Rebirth. The NPCs generated by the ritual were like him, some more so, even. He made friends he would fight and die alongside on their quest to fortify the Hub against threats like and not unlike his user. He recounted to Dymir a tale of a virus introduced to the Hub by a hacker collective who saw it as the downfall of real-world society. By bending rules in the name of preservation brought with it the revelation that there was a part of their world that did not want to die. There was a pulse there, running through them, the weather, the ambience, everything seen and felt throughout tying them together. The algorithm.

“This…” Dymir struggled to say it right, “This is all so fucked up.” He looked around his apartment, his life, and realized there was no one better this whole experience could be suited for. One thought he entertained was that this entire ordeal was a beta for a 4D questline he signed up for without remembering, or a precursor to an entire new build for the system. Whether he care as much as he felt he did or not, he was heavily invested in the branching paths laid out before him. There was an invite from Phage on the private chat with a codeword that ensured it was actually her, “I’ll let you tell her about all this when it’s all over.” He said, “But before I go…. Panjandrum,” The invocation that broke Indreas’ free will still resonated in his mind, “What does it mean?”

“It’s his name.”

Continue to part 7-1