Rush to Level 0: The Game (Chapter 14)

Some say that in the old days, game design wasn’t even a discipline. The early pioneers were building their own software and hardware themselves. Designers must have been quite the experts, learning through brute force and repetition, knowing everything that composed the end result. Today, game design, like almost everything else, was pure theory—people in a small room, following predictions and behavior models created by AIs, linking elements they did not create to achieve an expected result. Like my more cynical acquaintances used to say, there was no art anymore.

Most of the time, I tried not to think about it. Not so much because I agreed, but because I would keep wondering what happened to all the old-time experts. Had they reformed? Left the industry? Or were they still doing their own thing, isolated from the world? And if so, if they had created something, would it look like this game?

In theory, it was the perfect game: hardcore principles and cutting-edge graphics. Marketing teams would never allow it, investors would never touch it, and still it existed, hidden in plain sight among the thousands of rumors and urban legends that circulated throughout the net. Those in the know of its importance, like Jeff and Claire, didn’t talk about it much. The strange part was that the people actually involved in its creation didn’t talk at all.

I knew players had certain limitations preventing them from discussing all matters about the game, but what about the development staff? A project this substantial required an incredible amount of people and resources. With such numbers, it was impossible for leaks not to emerge. People loved to talk, even when they knew they shouldn’t. In some cases, they loved it precisely because of that.

“Need more mana?” I glanced at Goth over my shoulder.

The new chamber we’d entered was very different from the gremlin caves. For one thing, it was more stylized. Corridors were straight, carefully constructed very much like a fantasy dungeon. The style was somewhat similar to the antechamber, although there were far more signs of neglect, though not abandonment.

“Can’t use mass spells,” he replied, as if it were a good thing. “We won’t need them. It’ll be easier than last time.”

“Sure about that?”

“It’s a difficulty advancement dungeon. Pass all stages, and the prize accumulates. Start at the wrong end, and you get a trinket. There aren’t many left. Back when I was a noob, players took the easy route for quick loot. Not the worst trade off at the time.”

I bet you did that as well. ”You were scared I wouldn’t be able to handle it?”

“I was worried I’d pick the wrong door.” He smirked. Reaching level fifty had instantly transformed him into a jerk. It was also obvious he was lying. I still had no idea what he had taken from the altar. With his ability, it could have been anything from a gemstone to a full suit of armor.

“Since this might take a while, can I ask a few questions? As a tip.”

“Why not.”

That was too fast to be sincere.

“Tell me about the Lady.”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Everyone does.”

“The Depository didn’t.” Or so Elvira claimed.

“The Depository.” Goth let out a bitter laugh. “Do you know anything about them?”

“I’ve been told the basics. It’s like an exchange service… and a bank.”

“It’s a group like any other. They like to pretend they aren’t, but I was here when they were getting started. At the start, they did their own raids and exploration, but soon found that it was much easier to have others do it. All it took was a little initial capital.”

From what I remembered, Axiom was one of the early players who had founded both the Village and the Depository. If Elvira was to be believed, he had then moved on.

“Elvira told me the original founder wasn’t involved. Someone called Axiom?”

“Axiom?” Goth laughed again. “Axiom is dead. He’s also overhyped. All the oldies are. Back then, you could spit on the ground and it’d be significant.”

“Who’s in charge now?”

“One of the twenty-eight. It takes a level fifty to know. When we’re through with the rest of the cave, I’ll tell you. That’s your tip.”

A snarl sounded just off the next corridor intersection. This was the third time we’d come across an enemy creature. The first time, I was so terrified that I almost scorchlit it out of existence. Its appearance was similar to a grey fantasy puma of sorts, only twice as large and far more menacing than a goblin. In reality, it was more bark than bite.

“Go,” Goth whispered, taking out his crossbow.

I hate being bait.

With a deliberate sigh, I continued forward to the intersection. Normally, this was the point at which the creature would leap at me in an attempt to shred me with its claws or directly bite my head off.

A torrent of fire smashed into me. The smell of scorched stone hit my nostrils as I stood there, unable to move. Everything around me was orange, more liquid than flame. I could barely catch my breath when the creature leapt onto me. One giant paw pushed me against the floor. Large nails pressed against my throat.

Eyes the size of basketballs glared down on me. The beast’s jaws opened, ready to rip my throat out. Just then, two arrows pierced its forehead. The creature roared in pain, quickly jumping off me.

“Grab it!” Goth shouted as two more arrows zipped past my face.

By the time he’d said it, the beast was already halfway down the corridor. I jumped to my feet as fast as I could, just in time to see it vanish behind a corner.

“Fuck!” Goth shouted. This was the first time I’d heard him this angry. Actually, this was the first time I’d seen any unadulterated emotion from him.

Thanks for the assist. ”Looks clear for now.”

“That’s the dungeon boss.” He gave me a look reserved for trash newbies. “We could have ended it. Now we have to roam about until it attacks again.”

“No arena?” It didn’t feel like a boss creature. Arrows had no effect against the hive-mother. Here, they had managed to wound it quite a bit.

“This is the arena. The boss is hidden within it among the other critters.”

The image reminded me of a game when I was young. Back when I first joined Vesperia, there was something called a “Children Maze.” A rabbit was hidden in a nine by nine by nine maze of tunnels, and the players had to catch it. The game was structured as a solo-event instance, but in fact was a means to let players drop off their kids for a few hours while they went on a quest or did other things. The rabbit’s behavior was identical to what Goth had described—it would appear at random and hop its way to the nearest corridor, where it would vanish. Occasionally, fake rabbits would emerge. Catching them rewarded me with virtual tickets, but only the real rabbit could end the game.

Interesting that the game would share that design. There were too many common elements for it to be a coincidence. With Claire’s help, it would be easy to find out more about the designer of the original Vesperia Children Maze. On the other hand, maybe it was better to ask Jeff first.

“Is there a time limit?” I asked.

“Life is the only time limit.”

You’re trying too hard, Goth. ”We go on?”

“Hurry up.”

From what I could tell, the maze was eight by eight intersecting corridors, with some of them being blocked off. All doors were gone, including the one we had entered through, creating a sensation of fake endlessness. This place probably was hell without night vision. Columns and random obstructions cluttered the hallways, rendering torches useless. Even so, Goth seemed to know exactly where to go.

We walked about the corridors along a figure-eight pattern. Each time we turned a corner, there would be another snarl that would disappear moments later. Every third instance, a common mob puma would leap at us… just like the fake rabbits in the Children Maze.

With each fight, Goth became more and more confident. He stopped using me as a shield, going straight for the kill himself. At one precise moment, he suddenly stopped.

“Go first,” he said out of the blue.

“Sure.” How do you know? ”Any tips?”

“Catch it this time.”

Catch it. Easy for him to say. Slowly, I walked towards the intersection.

If the pattern held true, there wouldn’t be fire this time. The rabbit avatar of my childhood rotated between three different behaviors. Back then, that meant mostly animations and evades. If this was a direct copy, I would expect the boss to go for a different spell entirely.

The instant I cleared the corner, the attack followed. Expecting it, I shielded my face. A wave of blue-colored wind pressed against me, pushing me back. My godlike status kept me from any injuries. Shortly after, though, I found that I couldn’t move.

Shit! I tried to laugh, but my mouth was frozen solid. It actually froze me.

Spaff was right when he had warned about getting used to godlike. There was no attack the creature could use to harm me, so it rendered me irrelevant. Worse… unless Goth managed to kill or chase away the creature, I was done. The puma didn’t have to kill me; all it needed was to keep me frozen here until I was forced to disconnect and in turn be punished by the game’s system. There was no telling what would happen after that.

Through the fingers of my frozen hand, I saw the puma approach. It didn’t take any interest in me, passing me by as if I were an environmental decoration. A loud cling followed.

Status! I thought, unable to see the combat going behind.

The usual window appeared, but this time, the only thing on it was a one-minute countdown timer—that was the amount of time I was to remain in this state; far too much by any estimate. Combat sounds intensified behind me. I could hear clings, roars, metal striking rock, and something else that sounded like spell casting.

Seconds felt like minutes. My eyes told me that seven seconds had passed since I’d been frozen, but my mind couldn’t accept it. At first, I felt relieved—fighting meant that Goth was still alive. The more it continued, though, the more terrified I got.

At twenty-three seconds to go, the fighting suddenly stopped.

Shit! I tried to turn my head. The game didn’t let me.

“That’s two.” Goth strode into view. “Two times you messed up.”

You said there was no time limit, I thought.

“I’ve no idea why the Lady is so impressed with you. Hopeless even for a Wildcard.” He took a deep breath and exhaled almost theatrically. “This isn’t your usual game. Each time you mess up, the boss gets stronger. Next time it’ll take both of us.”

Ten seconds to go. I waited patiently. When the timer hit zero, I finished the action I had started a minute ago. The timer disappeared, revealing the usual status window. Oddly enough, I had gained another five hundred experience.

Experience for surviving a freeze? That was new and also very abusive. Maybe that was the point—ensuring that level hundred players would eventually lose their status if they were too careless. Or maybe the experience had nothing to do with the creature. If the Children Maze was to be followed, the third attack would be different and, unlike Goth’s theory, was going to be weaker.

“It’ll be easier next time,” I said. The surprised eyebrow twitch on Goth’s expression was priceless. “Next attack will be half as strong as the first. After that the sequence restarts.”

Goth kept on staring.

“Look, it’s similar to a game I played before your time.” No need to go into details. “Old school. The maze construction, the boss behavior, the fake mobs, everything’s the same. Textures here are a bit better.”

“You sure?”

I expected to hear condescension in his voice, but instead I felt the unmistakable ring of excitement.

“Pretty much. Why?”

“Nothing here is like games. Rules, interface, and creature behavior are all unique. That’s why it’s forbidden to talk about the game rules when in the real world. Whoever made this place put in a lot of effort to be unique. Still, a few places are different. First gen players found a lot of them. Word is that, back in the day, there was more copied content than original stuff.”

“The creatures getting a feel for things,” I added.

“Yeah. And like everything else, the first players lucked out. Artifacts back then didn’t have use limits, and some could break the system entirely. It’s said that whoever reaches level twenty-five gets to pick one.”

So twenty-five was the level to get overpowered. Good to know. “I get it. The prize will be broken.”

“Not just broken. If you’re right, we’re in a first gen cumulative dungeon.”

“You’re overhyping it.” I tried to keep a straight face. It was like listening to a child describing the latest must-have gimmick.

“I’m not.” Goth glanced at both sides of the corridor. “Let’s go.”

In the next four instances, we were attacked by fake pumas. The pattern was clear, we were just going through the motions, just like grinding with the difference that there was no reward… not for me, in any event. At one point, I asked Goth what he’d be doing with his left-over artifacts, a not-so-subtle hint for him to add a few trinkets to my tip. The answer didn’t give me much hope.

As we approached the corner of the maze, Goth stopped again.

“It’s there.” He summoned his crossbow. “You sure about this?”

“Everything’s checked out so far,” I lied. As my analytics professor would say, there were too few data points to tell me anything with certainty. “The third attack’s a breather. Will probably be short range.” Which would give me a chance to grab it. “I go first?”

Without waiting for the nod, I started walking, like a sheep to its slaughter… a very invulnerable sheep. The attack proceeded almost exactly the way I had imagined it. The puma appeared in the blink of the eye and immediately slammed me into the wall with its paw.

Shit!

There was no pain, but my mind made me gasp for air. I had been right on this one—no magic, just an abundance of strength.

Don’t fight. I closed my eyes. The only relief I had was knowing that while one paw kept me pinned to the wall, that was one paw that Goth didn’t have to worry about. Several roars followed, along with the sound of tearing flesh. The pressure on my chest lessened. The moment lasted less than a second, but I reacted instantly, grabbing hold of the puma with both hands. I expected it to pull away with ease, but the moment it tried, my grip remained unchanged. Instead, my whole body was dragged like a flag on a stick.

“Don’t kick!” I heard a shout.

If I didn’t have the thought a moment ago, I certainly did now. My legs moved on their own, more struggling to find something to stand on as I was dangled in the air. The experience wasn’t long, ending abruptly with a slam on the ground.

More roars followed. I opened my eyes to see Goth hitting the puma’s head with a mace. The creature refused to give up. Moving back, it tried to lift me with its paw, possibly to attack. The new weight, however, caught it unprepared. The creature staggered, trying to find solid footing with me underneath.

How does it feel to be shackled? I grinned.

Claws pushed down on my throat as the creature dragged me on the floor, trying to tear me off. That was too smart for a standard AI. Playing games almost for a living, there were many times that something clicked into place. Being dragged along the floor like a rag was one of those moments. The AI was more than smart; it was self-learning. Three brief encounters with me were enough to show it that I was indestructible, so it had reverted to something nearly as indestructible to deal with me—the environment. Come to think of it, the hive-mother in the previous dungeon section had done the same.

We were both right, I thought. Players weren’t the only ones learning in the game. The more encounters a creature survived, the more it adapted.

A bolt of energy passed through my body, making me feel as if my nerves had been scraped. The sensation was so unpleasant it made me instantly let go.

“Crap!” So much for holding on. At least my body wasn’t paralyzed.

Before I could get to my feet, the paw fell on me again, followed by the full weight of the entire puma.

“Hold on for a sec.” Goth moved closer. One final thud sounded, after which the puma disappeared. There weren’t any sounds or visual effects; one moment it was above me and the next, it wasn’t. “You can get up.”

“That was it?” I stood up, checking my clothes for marks or dirt. There weren’t any.

“Standard boss creature. Very low level.” He gave me a pat on the shoulder as if I were a complete noob. “Not much xp.”

“Why did it vanish? The gremlins didn’t.”

“Unlock requirement. Now it’s time to find the altar.”

“You’re enjoying not telling me anything, aren’t you?”

“All part of the game.”

“Getting tired of hearing that.”

“You’ll learn soon enough. Or not.”

It didn’t take long to find the altar. Like before, it was situated in a small enclave that hadn’t existed before. This time, I watched Goth as he clawed out a small stone marble from the side. From what I managed to see, it didn’t look like anything special, but in this place, nothing valuable did.

“All set?” I asked. “Two down, one to go?”

“Three down. Last one has no challenge. Getting to it was the challenge.”

Clever. Defeat the entrance guardians and you get a little something. Complete the two dungeons as well, and you get a little more. For Goth’s sake, I hoped it would be more than a little.

You better give me more than a little info once we’re done.

As we walked, I caught sight of a door. From what I could see, it led to the main statue chamber just past the antechamber. When I stepped in that direction, Goth caught my arm.

“Not that way. Once we’re out, the hunt is over.”

“You’re the boss.” For a split second, I thought I saw a flicker of movement outside. Goth didn’t react after a few moments of hesitation, and neither did I.

The final door led to a single room half the size of the antechamber. A single stone altar stood on a pedestal in the middle. Two of the walls had giant stained-glass windows that bled red and orange light onto the altar and remaining floor. The pictures were extremely well crafted and also scarily familiar.

“Any cultists in the game?” I asked.

“Cultists?”

“Tech cults.”

“Maybe.” Goth shrugged. “You don’t choose the game, the game chooses you.”

“Was that supposed to be deep?”

Saint Jeremy. No doubt about it, the tech cults were involved somehow. What would the cult of Saint Jeremy be doing here? If this dungeon was one of the very first, as Goth claimed, that meant the tech cults were linked to the original creators. The only problem was that, back then, there weren’t supposed to have been any tech cults.

“Go to the altar.”

Curiosity made me look at the floor. There were no symbols, green or otherwise, just a series of identical tiles.

“Traps?” I stepped on the nearest tile from the entrance.

“No.” I couldn’t tell whether he was being sarcastic or not.

“There had better be a good tip after this.”

Tile by tile, I continued. At this point, I had stopped caring whether there was a trigger mechanism or not. A step before the altar, I stopped.

“Doesn’t look like anything’s here.” I looked at the side. “Other than a green marble. Is that the prize?”

“Don’t touch it!”

“Wasn’t thinking about it.” I took a step aside, hands raised. It didn’t take long for Goth to move next to me. “So what are they?”

“Ability stones.” He placed another of the gems beside the marble. The moment he did, the stone texture changed to red. “You know how you need a level to keep a skill? These grant it just like that.”

“Three gems, three skills.” That was a cumulative reward? I expected a bit more.

“Only if you’re a noob.” Goth placed a third one. It became blue. “They’re also keys. The really cool things need artifacts to be unlocked.”

The boy rubbed his hands and stepped away from the altar. Moments later, a chipped triangular tile appeared on the altar.

“Mother of gems.” Goth covered his mouth with both hands.

“What?”

“I… I can’t believe it.” It was as if he were in a trance, staring at the tile as if it were the holy grail.

“What is that?”

“A cornerstone has been found!” a deep voice echoed above us. “The first person to hold the cornerstone will be announced.”

“Cornerstone?” I asked.

“Go back to the entrance!”

“Goth?”

“Now!”

“Okay.” I could do without the mood swings. “Happy now?” I asked when I got there.

“You’re clueless, aren’t you?” Goth slowly reached for the prize, as if he were cherishing the moment for as long as possible. “You’ve no idea what this is.”

“Some overpowered artifact?”

“There are thousands of artifacts in the game. Most of them are trash. This… this is unique.” His fingers were less than an inch from touching it. “It shows a map of the world. Everywhere ventured, everything discovered, even places passed by. With this, I can find the limits of the game and walk beyond them. It can’t be trashed, it can’t be stolen, and the best part of all…”

A ray of red light shone through the ceiling, landing directly on the boy. As I watched, his entire body was transformed into ash that spun up like a cone, disappearing up the way. Once the final speck of dust was consumed, the light vanished.

“Emil Kovac has been sacrificed and ejected from the game. All memories have been removed. All linked artifacts have been erased from the game. The cornerstone remains unclaimed.”