Just a stupid coincidence. I’m an idiot for worrying about this.
Powerful hands clamp down on each of my shoulders. They’re strong in a way not possible for another player. I’m dealing with NPCs. I didn't notice them moving toward me. It's like they appeared out of nowhere.
“If you make a scene,” one of them hisses, “we’ll erase you.”
He gets real close to my ear and adds in a ragged whisper, “I’m not just talking about your avatar.”
Level 3
They port me to a path which leads to the castle that looms over this first circle of Hell.
Revelations modeled its Hell after Dante’s Inferno. This first circle, Limbo, isn't such a bad place--certainly different from the usual images of fire and brimstone. It mostly consists of open, grassy plains with low level NPCs you can fight and cast spells on to boost your levels. There’s also the castle, which stands tall enough that you can always see a part of it, no matter where you are in this circle. It has seven entrances, and the interior changes depending on which of the entrances you use. I’ve been to it a number of times to fulfill missions. It’s never been the same, aside from the fact they were all vicious mazes. The last time I ran a mission for one of the castle’s inhabitants, I spent twenty minutes completing the task and three hours trying to find the NPC to report back to for my reward.
I hate the castle.
My escorts don’t give two craps about my feelings and seem intent on taking me there.
We pass through the seventh gate--the furthest from the shops of the Queue. It’s a black iron gate, adorned with a chalice at the top and bottom with metal carved to look like liquid passing from one to the other. Engraved on a golden plate set in the stone above the gate is the word Temperantia.
The gate opens onto a long hall with a single, simple, wooden door at the end.
I’m pushed forward and eventually shoved through the door. It opens on a single circular room. In the center sits a desk--basically a bit of wood set on four straight legs--with a large chair on on side and a stool on the other. Flanking the desk are two statues, both identical figures of winged, beautiful women, holding swords pointed upward. Actually, there is one small difference--the one on the right looks up toward Heaven, while the left has her eyes cast downward.
I’m shoved down on the stool--which wobbles on uneven legs beneath me.
“Ah, the fallen angel Shamshiel,” a male voice says from behind me.
The two goons who shoved me in here hold me so tight I can’t even turn my head to look.
Soon enough, the source of the voice makes his way to the large, far more comfortable, chair on the other side of the table.
It’s just a game, this isn’t my body, but I still feel the strangling sensation of my heart slamming against my oesophagus. The man sitting across from me is identical to the grey suit I saw this morning in front of Danny’s house. Only he’s not wearing a congratulatory smile now, instead he looks smug and superior.
“Gentlemen, you can loosen your grip on our friend.” He leans on the desk toward me, his eyes full of danger. “I’m sure he won’t cause us any problems.”
As if his eyes weren’t enough, his tone makes it clear causing trouble would only cause me harm.
“Who are you?” I dare to ask.
“Who I am isn’t really important.” He leans back in the chair, his smile and tone more casual. “What is important is what I am.”
“And what is that?”
“Doesn’t the suit make it obvious?” he asks, running his fingers along the lapels of his suit. “I’m a Moderator. You know, I wear grey because I’m neither the good guy in black, nor the bad guy in white--or whichever combination you wish. I’m neutral, in the middle of the action. I’m here to make sure all our players are enjoying their gaming experience.”
“Are you a program?” I glance at the two goons on either side of me. There’s no way they’re players. I could’ve taken them.
“No, no.” He chuckles. I’d say he almost sounds flattered. “I’m a real person plugged into a gaming chair. Just like you.”
Then why did I see your avatar on my street this morning? I swallow hard, stopping those words from flying out of my mouth.
“My cohorts here are NPCs,” he says. “But I’m guessing you knew that, and can probably understand why.”
I just nod. If they’re just NPCs, why’d the one threaten to kill me for real? How could an NPC even manage a thought like that.
Unless it’s programmed to say those words to keep players from causing a scene. And I fell for it like a total chump.
“You see,” the Moderator says, “Revelations is a very...interactive game. There is a risk that players could start confusing the game for the real world and vice versa. We at Duality Contract feel we have a moral obligation to ensure the chance of that happening is lessened. That’s part of the reason we don’t allow players to perform missions...near where they live.” He flashes a snide smile. “It’s also why I’m here, to act as a counsellor, and talk you down from the ledge if need be.”
He rests his chin on steepled fingers and regards me in silence for an uncomfortable minute.
“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” He stands and paces about the room. “Last night, you installed a mod on your game.”
A croak escapes my mouth, but I choke it back. How the fuck does he know about that?
“And then you accompanied another player, FuknDemon1--funny name--on a mission. Your response to that mission has us concerned. What do you think Revelations is?”
“Just a game.” I mumble it, but I’d say there’s a hint of a prayer in the words too.
He slams his hands on the table. I almost fall off the damn wobbly stool. He leans so close I can feel the heat of his breath. Thankfully, it doesn’t stink.
“I’m sorry. What did you say Revelations was?”
What does he want from me? I can’t tell if he’s offended I called it just a game, or if that was the answer he expected.
“I said it’s just a game.” I say the words louder this time, more like a challenge. Yeah, it’s just a game. Prove me wrong asshole.
He pushes away from the table, a wide grin on his face.
"See?" he says to the goons next to me. "Nothing to worry about. He's a smart lad--he gets that it's just a game."
I don't think the goons give a crap.
"Well that makes me very happy, Shamshiel. I thought I'd have to start worrying about you. But I feel much better after our little chat."
I'm not sure if he means it, is trying to convince himself, or is just being a sarcastic ass.
A ringing fills the room, echoing so much that the individual rings bleed into each other to become a constant pitch.
"Excuse me for a moment,” the Moderator says.
He walks to the statue on the left, reaches behind it, and pulls an old style phone receiver out to his ear.
"Hello? Yes, sir, I have him in my office right now." He shoots me a smile and wink. "Yes, I understand the concern. Oh no sir, I'm sure he's fine." There is a longer pause. The Moderator's smile fades. "Very good, sir. Should I assign it directly, or tell him to expect it to notify through his menu? All right, yes, thank you, sir."
The Moderator hangs up the phone and returns to the desk, collapsing into the chair. He looks...perplexed.
"Well, that's a first,” he says. "It turns out the Powers That Be don't want to just take my word for things today." He sits up, brushes his hand through his hair, and straightens his lapels. "You should have a mission notification show up in your menu in the next minute or so. You should go and perform that mission immediately. Perform properly, and we can put this all behind us."
I'm starting to feel like I'm getting fired. Odd, considering I pay to play this game.
"And exactly what happens if I don't perform the mission properly?"
"Well then..." He sighs. "I suppose your time will be done."
His answer sends a chill down my spine. Does
he mean in the game? Or...
A red exclamation mark appears in the upper left hand corner of my vision.
"And that," the Moderator says, "means our time together is done. Do you need to be escorted to the portal, or are you fine to find your way?"
"I'm fine,” I stammer. I'm far more preoccupied with the exclamation point and the mission it signals.
I get up off the stool. I have to walk around the goon on my left—neither moves to make room for me. The door swings open as I approach. The gate does the same when I reach it.
Ten feet from the gate, I open my menu and cycle over to the mission notification. It's a manipulation. And that’s all it says. What? How am I supposed to do a mission when I don’t know what the mission is? What are they going to make me do?
I feel sick. Two days ago, I wouldn’t have worried about this. I would’ve gone with the flow, looking forward to easy experience points. But I don’t feel that way today...
You know the funny thing, the more someone tries to convince you of a truth, the less likely you are to believe it. I've been telling myself this is just a game since last night. The Moderator told me this is just a game. I swear, if one more person tells me it's just a game, I'm going to be convinced this thing is real. And at that point I should probably be locked up.
I head for the portal.
Am I really that afraid of being kicked out of the game? Would it be so bad? I could just go back to my old console--play games where the line between reality and make-believe stays nice and clear.
I keep playing the Moderator's words over in my head. My time here will be done.