Spacebound Chronicles

Chapter 4: Not Done Playing

“But done playing he was not!” Lord Potathunder sang to the crowd of new players gathered around him. Good crowd today. Good reputation scoring. “For he now could only think of the Chimeras, and their devious plot! Most of those words had no meaning, but they were clearly bad; So he would do his own digging, through whatever means he had. Hence the man behind our hero began his very own path, starting from ground zero, fueled by growing wrath.

“He too started here, and like you he heard my rhymes. That encounter, to be clear, changed us both ‘till the end of times. Not to toot my own horn, for I am truly humble, but I met the hero before he was born, it was really a lucky stumble.”

***

He was not done playing. Not one bit. That Friday night had seemed quite regular in its own right, with noodles and TV on his lonely apartment, but further inspection showed it was… different.

Scott had been unable to pay attention to the talk shows he was watching. He channel-surfed for minutes and ignored everything that would often have captivated him. Then he shut the TV and stared at the ceiling.

His mind was lost in the Viking bar brawl. And the dark castle. And the Chimeras. Specially the Chimeras. Eventually he drifted into a sleep deeper than anything he had experienced in years, only to wake up to more thoughts about the things he had experienced the night before.

But there was no point in lingering on the fictional adventures of fictional characters that didn’t even belong to him. He did not have the necessary equipment to play that game, and even if he did, there was no time. Saturday was the day for laundry and groceries, and the remaining hours were not enough for a damn RPG.

Standing up and washing his face, not bothering to shave, Scott headed out with his basket of dirty clothes from the week. He sighed. The clothes were bundled up just like Jake’s clothes back in that space apartment, and still not nearly as exciting. While he loaded the machine in the laundromat across the street, his mind went back to the strange events of the previous night.

Those players were clearly some kind of secret group, and Snorri was clearly not invited. But what were they planning? They mentioned the new guy was a member of the Top 500 players, which were, according to Joey, the ones that had enough agency to meaningfully change the game world. But in what way? Politically? Militarily? The sceneries? Everything? And were all of those robed, hooded, masked players among the Top 500? What did they want? They did mention changing the game to match some vision of theirs, but what did that even mean?

He could theorize, but the only way to be certain would be asking Joey, but then he would need to confess that he played a character he was not supposed to. Besides, Scott’s handling of the situation was probably suboptimal, and that seemed like an important moment, so the likelihood of Joey getting pissed was even bigger. Either way, he could only guess as to what he had seen… and if he should do something about it.

Scott realized he’d been looking at the whirlwind of water and dirty clothing pieces for some twenty minutes or so, lost in thought. He would usually be no more productive than that, just sitting down to scroll through social media, but he had never just stared blankly at the machine for so long.

Grocery shopping went no better. Because it didn’t even happen at all.

He was headed to the supermarket when he, for the first time, realized there was a cybercafé along the route he walked every single Saturday since he had bought that apartment. He savored the memories of him and Joey spending hours in those back in high school while they should be in Literature classes. Good times now in the past.

But then he saw the Fantasy Stars poster glued to the establishment’s front door. The lively colors reminded him of the streets he explored as Jake Nebula, and an alien of the same species as Snorri, just blue rather than red, wearing a spacesuit stood back to back to a human wielding two plasma pistols.

Well, groceries could wait. He ate noodles every day, anyway. He could just buy sandwiches on his way home if he ran out of food.

Less than ten minutes later, laying in a chair twice as ergonomic as his couch and with a rig on his head and an account created, Scott was back into Fantasy Stars.

“Welcome to the twenty-fourth century!” a deep disembodied voice said in the mellowest of tones as the galaxy came into view. “Long before humanity broke free from the solar system and was welcomed into the galaxy, the stars were a place of mysteries and secrets,” Scott saw an ancient human stargazing, then was transported to aliens doing the same.

“Unfortunately, the stars were also a place of war and violence and the home to creatures determined on ruling supreme,” scenes of several alien species fighting flooded his mind. “One of these creatures, was Shay. Supreme Commander of the Ryats, Shay waged war on the galaxy for centuries,” the sight of a dark clad warrior towered over Scott, his eyes flaming red and a purple staff tipped by a black diamond at hand. “All seemed lost when Shay’s army ruled over the vast majority of the stars. All species were subdued by his might. Until humanity came.

“On the early twenty third century, the ruthless human fleet broke from the solar system, an unexpected factor in all of Shay’s calculations,” he could now see the fleet. Massive indeed. “Needing to deal with the human spirit on one front and the united people of the galaxy on the other, Shay and his followers were slowly driven back and ultimately defeated in their own homeworld,” and that homeworld was oddly familiar. Dark, starry, with a castle standing alone on a sea of grass. Scott shivered.

“Now, after over a hundred years of peace and prosperity, humanity and the allies they unwittingly saved from a life of servitude thrive together as the Solar League,” which, he remembered, the Chimeras condemned. “But with so many secrets in such a vast and contorted universe, with so many adventures waiting beyond the atmosphere, endless Fantasy Stars await brave new souls.

“Fantasy Stars await you!”

And just as smoothly as the entire introduction flew through scenes of fantastic battles and exploration, of destruction and hope, it effortlessly ended in a young human standing on the edge of an abyss, dreamy eyes lost high in the sky.

A human who looked disturbingly like Scott Williams.

No, that was wrong. He did not want a human, much less one so heavily connected to the real world.

He went through the list of species.

Rajaptors, massively muscular, furred humanoids with feline claws and shining fangs. Their backstory made sense. Subdued by Shay’s army ages ago and genetically engineered to be the perfect killing machines, they were a species of unstoppable juggernauts now set free. Bonus for strength, but Scott never related to brutes.

Ryats, Shay’s follower species, were also an option. Apparently, a few had survived and changed sides. They had six glowing eyes and a wide mouth, somehow resembling a bipedal shark. They had bonus on Dark Matter Powers and Crafts, but until Scott knew what that even meant, it wouldn’t be an appealing deal.

And then there were Boogalians, which were the frail framed aliens with little snail eyes on top of their long heads that he so far knew only as Snorri’s species. They were apparently herbivores, preys, and therefore evolved to maximum camouflage, discretion and subtlety. Their society was based underground and their senses heightened. Bonus dexterity, lesser strength.

Scott liked those, but he forced himself to check one more option. Cyborgs. Humans injured by accidents or warfare, now half-men half-machine. Bonus in using electronics, balanced stats and major customization options.

That would be it. Despite the character’s striking resemblance to the player, after widening a jawline, buffing musculature, adding a cybernetic eye and a robotic right forearm, Logan Spacebound was looking just like his own person. Still, there was no replacing those eyes. The eyes were forever Scott Williams’.

Logan Spacebound. He would have thought twice about it, but if Jake Nebula was okay, so was Mr. Spacebound, who now turned his back to the abyss and entered a flying car that shot into the distance.

Next thing he knew, he was landing on a crowded street of Winner City, and forcibly leaving the vehicle to begin his adventure. Only that there was no adventure. No tutorial, quest or orientation, he had just been dropped into a sunny city bustling in activity, a utopic New York where traffic flew overhead, robots cleaned any litter and the abusive advertisement was actually in harmony with the impeccable silver facades.

For the briefest instant, he felt uneasy with the liberty presented by the lack of a mission or goal, but then all uneasiness turned to a comfortable sense of freedom, as he knew he could do anything. How many interesting places like Valhalla Club could there be in this city?

“Hey, friend! Need a tour guide for this joint? It only costs you one reputation point!” a man in glowing green robes and a golden hat, carrying a beaten-up wooden banjo, materialized out of the sidewalk.

“One reputation point?” Logan Spacebound raised an eyebrow.

“Just keep smiling and give me a high five! As long as you’re happy my reputation will thrive! Whenever you want to stop, you’re the commander! Just call out my name, which is Lord Potathunder!”

“Wait, are you a player or not?” all the rhyming was making this dude sound awfully like an NPC, but why would NPCs care for reputation?

“Yes, I am a player, don’t be fooled by my speech! I play as a bard, so rhyming makes me rich! Now follow me, I’ll show you around Winner City, by the time we’re done, you’ll be feeling giddy!”

Logan chuckled and agreed to follow that odd character. Making friends while also getting to know the city was nothing short of a perfect way to kick things off. It also came to mind he should have called Joey, seen if he could play right now… but maybe this would be a one-time thing, better not attach strings.

“It’s called Winner City for it’s where we won the war. It happened before the game launched, so it’s actually just lore. To our right is the HQ of the Bounty Hunter Clan, it’s a violent class, so I am not that big a fan.”

Bounty Hunters? Could be a fun career. Logan could end up returning here later.

“Can I ask you something?” Logan asked. Better take advantage of Joey not being around.

“Ask away! I am nice guy and won’t make you pay!”

“Do you know anything about a group called Chimeras?”

Potathunder halted immediately, spinning around to face the newbie with widened eyes and a thin mouth. He stared Logan down, then furtively looked around.

“Who sent you? Are you an alt to some of them?”

“A what? No, I just want to know…”

“Where did you hear that name?” Potathunder yelled.

Logan babbled a response, trying to organize his thoughts, but the guide in front of him and the city around them melted away. The words [RIG RENT EXPIRED] replaced Winner City, and Scott was back in the real world.

Damn! He was about to understand! He went through his wallet. Not enough money for another hour. He would have lost Potathunder when he came back.

But he also realized… judging by his reaction, this was probably for the best.