Dream Drive: Yuri Ch. 01

Mohammed smiled. "You only care about Isis, don't you?"

Yuri's eyebrow rose. Even with all the unanswered questions on his mind, he had to appreciate Mohammed's astute observation. The man was dead wrong about Yuri's motives, but he had correctly pegged Yuri's Hub gaming history.

"Well, that makes two of us." Emil got serious. "You see, reality kinda stinks. I mean, it's alright, for the most part. But there are crappy bits. You know it, I know it, the whole world knows it. That's why we bothered making a Dream Drive in the first place. That's why we built the Hub to escape into.

"But it's no escape at all, is it? The Hub isn't much better than reality. It's reality version 1.1. I had to go beyond the Hub, beyond normal games. I had to make an entirely new reality, a reality so good it was a genuine sequel to the original. A reality so real, so encompassing, so much better, that you would watch the old one burn, just to stay in the new."

Despite the baffling inconsistencies plaguing his mind, Yuri couldn't help rolling his eyes at the man's recording.

"A reality that is powerful, gripping. Something that seizes your heart and never lets go. That's the kind of world I envision." Emil Mohammed looked Yuri right in the eye. "I have made that world. Or, rather, I'm making it still. All good things take time, but we're well on our way."

"Perfect," Yuri muttered. "It's just an incomplete demo."

"Your avatar in the Hub probably doesn't look much like your real self. Let me ask you a favor! Don't be fake. Don't disrespect Isis like that. Put yourself in the game as you really are, and play the game as you really want to play. Do you want to gain power and become a warlord, a king? Do it! Do you want to become a knight that fights for truth, justice and the American way? Do it! Go where your heart leads. This is a second chance. Take it, but be yourself."

Emil Mohammed nodded emphatically. "Do that for me and you'll be happy that you did. I promise you that." He sighed. "The other players will get a similar message. Not just the finalists in the tournament, either, but every player will be asked to keep themselves as they are. Not by me, personally, but you get the idea. I'm trying to build something together with all of you."

Oh, goody, Yuri thought, I'm trying to get some answers and he's trying to recruit gamers into being his company's unpaid multi-level marketers.

"This is our second chance, our second wind. We've screwed up the Earth badly enough, right? Isis is not a fairy-tale world. It is not a typical online game. Prepare yourself! What you do can and will matter, but if you want to change things, you must change them. So go out and do it. And who knows? We might see each other around." He gave Yuri a jaunty wave. "Good luck!"

Emil vanished to be replaced by a character creation screen. An image of Yuri stood slowly rotating. Six foot tall with short, dark hair, a smooth face and strong muscles under his tanned skin. "God have mercy," Yuri whispered in horror. These people really knew everything about him. His avatar even had all his moles and childhood scars.

Two buttons were before him. One for retaining his default options, the other for customization.

He rubbed his temples. This was the most confusing thing he had ever experienced. First their servers knew his real name, then Mohammed addressed him by his alias in perfect Zibar and now, instead of the chubby, middle-aged, blonde Alex Dearborn and his big, bushy moustache, Yuri's actual face was spinning before him.

Yuri slapped his forehead and groaned as he finally got it. This was a prank from the guys at the skunkworks. What else could it be? An American videogame company figuring out his real name and its CEO learning to deliver a short speech in fluent Zibar was just too far fetched to be true. He felt really dumb for having fallen for it, even for a second.

He giggled. This might not even be the real Isis game. That was likely only awarded to the winner of the tournament, just like he thought it was. This could just be something the guys had put together to play a prank on him. Even if this was the real Isis, the guys must have slipped a few more things into it, besides the avatar, name and speech. Well, whatever they had in mind for him, he was sure they'd all be laughing about it in the mess hall later today.

He squinted at his avatar's very accurate genitals.Ok, maybe it won't all be laughs.

He decided to play the game and figure out everything the guys had done to it. It wasn't like he had anything better to do with the rest of the night.

He tapped the default appearance button and the world went dark.

***

"You are hereby sentenced to banishment at the base of the tower. Do you have any last words?"

Yuri shivered naked as a bitterly cold wind whipped at him. He was standing on the end of a long, wooden plank that extended over a deep, dark pit. There was a rotating black light at the bottom of the pit. He hunched over as he tried to rub some warmth into his limbs. Even though he knew the cold he felt was merely simulated and that he was lying perfectly still on his warm bed, not shivering on a windy plank, he was still shivering on a plank, buffeted by a chill wind.

"Very funny, you guys," he muttered, "very funny." He squinted at the man that had spoken.

The man stood near the end of the plank that was over solid ground. He wore a red tabard emblazoned with the tree image that came with the game. Several men in metal armor flanked him. Yuri recognized that they were wearing medieval armor. This was one of the reasons he didn't like fantasy RPGs so much. It was always the same setting; Western Europe during the Middle Ages with a collection of accents from the British Isles.

Well, at least this one speaks Zibar.

The fact that he spoke Zibar and sported an impossibly massive moustache was, to Yuri, proof positive that this was yet another part of the prank. "This is not funny," Yuri said to the man and his escort of guards.

"Being banished rarely is," the mustachioed man replied. "Nor is being a star-marked slave. Have you any last words?"

"Why do you insist on speaking with them," one of the men asked Moustache Man.

"They panic when it comes down to it. Lose all sense of self. I've seen it too often."

Yuri rolled his eyes. "And how, exactly, am I supposed to be banished?"

The man with the moustache gestured. "You jump."

Yuri took one more look at the bottom of the pit and barked out a laugh. "Not gonna happen, you guys." He started walking briskly towards the solid end of the plank. "Look, you've had your fun, but I'm-"

"This is nothing personal," Moustache Man called out as he pulled a lever.

The plank under Yuri's feet slid away from the wall and fell into the dark pit. Yuri fell after it. The swirling blackness engulfed them both.

***

Yuri was awakened by strange sounds that seemed like they were muted by distance. He felt a lumpy bed underneath him. He opened his eyes and saw that he was in a small room with a ceiling and walls made of roughly-hewn wood. He kicked the covers off himself and got out of bed. He was buck naked again, but at least he wasn't freezing in the wind anymore.

A semi-transparent, brown panel flashed in his vision. It looked like imitation wood. Light blue, curved letters were inscribed upon it.

Welcome to Isis.

Your Health is represented by a red bar in the upper right-hand corner.

You can access the game menu by saying 'game menu' at any time.

There was a red bar sitting in the corner of his field of vision. No matter how he turned his head, it was there.

"Game Menu."

A partially see-through screen took up most of his vision. On the left half of it, his avatar was looking back at him with a neutral expression. The right half was blank. Towards the bottom of the screen was the 'Options' button, a button that read 'Skill Trees' and some numbers.

Carry Weight: 0.00/60.00 (0%)

Health: 50.00/50.00

Status Effects: None

He tapped the options box and a prompt asked him if he wanted to quit the game. He tapped "No". He only got there and he still wasn't done with figuring out all the easter eggs the guys must have slipped into the game for him to find. There couldn't be many of them, they probably only had the chip in their possession for half a day, tops.

He willed for the game menu to close and let him focus on the room and it did.Cool. From what little he knew about the Dream Drive, intent-reading interfaces were still a remarkable thing. He nodded to himself as he looked around the small room.

Aside from the bed, there was a stool with an empty washbasin in the corner of the room. A small chest was at the foot of the bed. Those were the only furnishings in the room. Yuri bent down and opened the chest. It contained some clothes. He reached in for them and paused. There was an ugly, big, black pentagram inked across the back of his left hand.

He licked his right thumb and tried to scrub any of the tattoo off. It wouldn't budge. Instead, a prompt appeared in the center of his vision.

Do you wish to travel to the 9th Circle?

Yuri shrugged. "Sure."

The box that showed up in his vision was slate and it sported blocky, red letters.

Error. Travel impossible at this time.

"Of course it is. This is just a stupid beta."

Floating blue words took up most of his vision.

You were a slave to angels. You worked to build the next level of the tower, Babel. Human generations have been born and died before a single level of Babel has been completed, but the angels have an eternity to wait.

It is written that the star-marked pose a great danger to the angels and normal humans. Such individuals, marked by darkness, are banished to the base of the tower.

The tower is vast. Its breadth was made great and its height must be still greater. The angels built themselves cities in which to live upon each level, as did the humans.

Those humans left behind when one level was completed created their own cities, countries and civilizations. Some thrived, while others died. Some scraped together what they could from the ruins of those that came before. Perhaps some have forgotten from whence they came.

Powerful magics course through the tower, remnants of the passing angels, their artifacts and guardians, their essence forged into the walls and rocks. Magic unchecked gives rise to things both great and terrible. For magic is the power of change and change begets change.

And change...well. Change can be good and it can be bad.

Yuri waited for a minute to see if any more text would show up to distract him. When none did, he turned his attention back to the chest. He pulled the clothes out and held them before himself. There was a pair of burlap trousers, a soft leather vest and a flaxen shirt. A pair of breeches made out of linen completed the outfit. Each piece looked like it would fit him, so he donned them.

While he was skipping on one leg and trying to pull on the tight breeches, he saw a pair of boots under the bed. The wooden floor under his feet sounded a bit hollow, like there might be something under it; a basement, most likely. He pulled the boots out and sat on the bed to put them on.

He was trying to figure out how to tie the collar of his shirt together when he heard some noises from the outside. He moved to the tiny window. Across a narrow street from his window, stood a squat, wooden house. Yuri realized he was on the second floor of his building.

A big man pinned a young woman to the building's wall with his body. One of his hands was holding her hair and the other was busy under her skirt. She tried to fight him off, but all her efforts got her was a slap that appeared to make her insensate. Her dark, curly hair spilled out across her shoulders. It reminded Yuri of Wada's.

Yuri could see that the girl was wearing a yellow dress which hugged her upper body like a second skin and flared out below her wide hips to completely conceal her legs. Her cleavage was brazenly displayed by the low, square-cut neckline. For a moment, Yuri thought he was witnessing a prostitute and her customer in a dispute about her fee, but then he remembered that the girl's attire was entirely appropriate for the setting. The virtual world of Isis didn't operate on Caliphate rules and customs.

Emil Mohammed's recording had said that Yuri should do what he wanted in this game. Seeing nothing exciting, or original, Yuri decided to go with the stereotype. He was going to beat up that guy and rescue that damsel. Just as he was about to head out the door, he saw some more activity out the corner of his eye.

Another man, dressed in the same brown leather vest and dark green pants as the big one molesting the girl, was dragging a fat woman out of the squat building. An old man ran out after them, his hands held up in supplication. After he and the brute that was dragging the woman exchanged some words, the brute unceremoniously slit the woman's throat and then plunged the dagger into the old man's gut.

Yuri pressed his face closer to the window and looked around as far as he could see from his vantage point. There were some other bodies lying in the muddy street under his window and he could see at least one more man in dark brown leather stalking down the street with a sword drawn. Beyond the squat house across the way, Yuri could see columns of smoke rising up into the cloudy sky.

The brute that had just murdered two people joined the one molesting the girl and Yuri roused himself into action. He jumped to his door and opened it. The corridor had several other doors, but his attention was drawn to the staircase. Even as he rushed down it, he was considering how he was going to beat the brutes.

The problem with most RPG games was that the sheer number of characters programmed into it meant that each character was only capable of a limited number of actions. Once the player did something unpredictable, the character was stumped. Some formidable opponents in the game could be turned into pushovers, with nothing more than the right combination of moves. Yuri would just have to figure out the exact combination that killed the brutes outside.

It didn't much matter to him, he'd just respawn if he got killed and try again, but he never liked not having a plan going in. There was also the possibility that respawning would include the plank scene again and he was quite eager to avoid that.

He wished he could just target and hit things like he had done in his FPS games, but his rig's hack was inactive. As soon as he thought this, an orange box appeared in his vision. As his eyes moved, the box framed whatever object he was looking at, individual stairs, planks of wood on the wall, tables and chairs in the big dining room he descended into.

He willed the box to fade, since it was a bit distracting, and took a quick look at the room. It had a big fireplace in the middle of the wall to Yuri's right. There were only glowing embers in it. A bar took up most of the far wall. Half the tables in the room were either overturned, or tipped onto their sides. The chairs were in similar disarray. The entire room seemed like its occupants had been rudely interrupted in the middle of a meal.

The windowed wall to Yuri's left had a big door, which stood slightly ajar. He could hear distant screams through it. He jogged that way until he slipped on something. He caught his balance and realized his boot had slid through a puddle of curdled blood. "Ick." There were other puddles of blood and most were smeared towards the front door, as if the previous owners of the blood had been dragged out. Yuri moved more deliberately after that. He also picked up four knives. He held one in his right by the handle and three in his left, nestling their blades between his fingers.

He elbowed the door open and stepped out. One of the brutes was pinning the girl to the ground with his body. The other was standing over them with his back to Yuri.

As the girl was trying to wiggle free, her eyes met Yuri's. He shivered at the panic he could see in them.Wow, this is some really good game design.

Her mouth opened and she screamed out a, "Help me," in Zibar. The brute pinning her down covered her mouth with a hand and laughed.

Her words prodded Yuri into action. He looked at the back of the standing brute. His leather armor seemed sturdy. He had a leather cap on his head, but his neck was completely exposed. Yuri willed the targeting system into action and an orange box sat on the back of the brute's neck.

Yuri gripped the knife in his right hand by the point, using just two fingers. He tossed it at the brute with all his strength. The brute fell bonelessly to the ground, the handle of the knife sticking out of the back of his neck. A transparent, brown box with pale blue letters flashed briefly in the center of Yuri's vision:

You have created a new skill:Aimed Knife Throw

Even as the brute was falling, a white mist left his body and coalesced into a ball. The ball rushed at Yuri and he only barely managed to jump back inside to avoid it. The ball of white light curved around the doorway to hit Yuri right in the chest.

There was no pain. He wasn't even sure if he felt the contact at all.

The other brute outside snarled and yelled out, "Show yourself!"

Yuri leaned over and peeked outside. The brute was frantically spinning and trying to see where the knife had come from. He was shaking his blood-stained sword in the air, menacingly. The girl at his feet was trying to crawl away from him without drawing attention to herself.

As he was peeking out, Yuri spotted something different in his Heads-Up Display. The wordEssence was written under his health bar. The number 18 stood next to it.

"Please, help me," the Zibar-speaking girl yelled out. Yuri winced. She had her arm extended towards him. The brute noticed this and turned his head to see Yuri. He charged without hesitation.

Yuri jumped back from the doorway, planted his feet and bent his knees a little, remembering his basic training. He dropped the rest of his knives and wiped the palms of his hands against his trousers. For all the combat drills and training he had gone through, he didn't think he'd ever try anything like this in real life. Thankfully, this wasn't real life; this was just a video game.

The brute charged in, sword-first, and surprised Yuri by raising the sword into an overhead swing. Yuri had expected a stab. The corner of his mouth twitched. This was much easier to defend against. He jumped forward, inside the man's swing, and raised an arm overhead. The brute's downward swing was pushed wide by Yuri's forearm angled against his. At the same time, Yuri jabbed his right hand into the brute' throat.

The brute raised a hand to his throat as he coughed. Yuri kneed him in the groin. The brute fell to his knees, wheezing in pain. Yuri grabbed the brute's ears. A knee to the face made the man nearly insensate. He fell to the side, blood spurting from his nose.

Yuri glanced at the curdled blood on the man's blade and knelt down to pick up one of his knives. He viciously stabbed the brute in the side of the neck and drew the not-too-sharp utensil's blade forward, ripping the video game character's throat out, just like he had been taught to do in basic. The brute coughed and spluttered as he tried to staunch his fatal wound.

Yuri had never killed anyone. After a minute in this game, he didn't have to wonder what that would be like. Killing this would-be rapist had felt disturbingly realistic. Yuri almost quit the game, right then and there, but he had played FPS games where he had shot people, as well as gotten shot himself. Simulated, video game death was nothing to be squeamish about.I take back my eye-rolling, Mr. Mohammed, this is top notch game design.