Rewrite - Chapter 4

After another bout of no-longer-vertigo-inducing-non-movement, the black faded and I found myself standing on a platform, reminding me of a certain old TV-Show. It had been about making contestants do strange challenges, essentially what I would consider intelligence-tests for lab-animals, in order to assault a castle at the end. In a way, it reminded me of a game that came out a few years later, about an AI that made the player perform in an obstacle course, again, reminiscent of a lab-animal, only with incineration instead of pools of water in case of failure. And that was what awaited both the contestants in that show and myself, a pool of water. No, not blazing fire, luckily. In contrast, where the show had used a lot of foam-padding on everything, the developers didn't see a need to give the players such luxury.

In front of my platform was a wide moat, filled with water and a set of platforms stuck out over the moat varying in height and distance to each other. Some platforms were smaller, some larger and from the poles holding them up, I could guess that their stability would differ as well. Some of the poles made me wonder if they would hold my weight at all, looking barely more solid than a single straw, while others were as wide as the platforms themselves, massive trunks of unknown material. Finally, and where I would have preferred some foam-padding, there were tree-trunks swinging back and forth like pendulums, reminding me of an old cartoon, with me taking the part of a certain coyote, ready to be flattened into a wall.

• Welcome to the first test. Your goal is to get to the other side. Good luck. 

“Well, fuck you very much.” I muttered to myself, after reading the box. That hint was about as helpful as snow to an Inuit, given my position and the general design of the room. With a sigh, I carefully moved a little, just to make sure that there were no surprise-changes to my virtual body, maybe a tail, wings or some other surprise, to go with the game-show impression I had. Flailing around with unfamiliar body-parts would likely look hilarious from the outside, but with me being the contestant, I wanted to keep the amusement for the hopefully non-existent audience to a minimum. But no, the virtual body I had was identical enough to my real one that I couldn’t feel a difference. Once again, and only for a moment, I marvelled at the realism, even after working with the capsule for a week of real-time, I couldn’t even begin to explain how the capsule worked. Even if I tried to imagine it, I had to resort to terms like miracle or magic, which made me chuckle at myself.

Pushing away the random thoughts of procrastination, I looked at the moat in front of me, just to make sure there wasn’t an easy but hidden way around it, to test my perception. There was a ladder, going up on the other side, but from the way the water below was moving, I wasn’t sure I would be able to swim against the current, even with platforms to push against.

That meant I would have to go with the obvious solution, trying to hop from platform to platform, dodging the pendulums as I went. At that moment, I realised that time might also be a judging factor, or I could try again and again, with only virtual bruises keeping me from trying again. Looking at the platforms and pendulums for a moment, I quickly chartered a course, trying to account for their movement as much as possible before nodding to myself. I was ready. Hopefully.

After taking a deep breath and letting it back out, I started running toward the ledge, before taking a jump to the first platform. As I had expected from the relatively thin pole it had sat on, it moved with my momentum, forcing me to make a split-second decision whether I wanted to stop and balance or keep my momentum. Bending my knees a little, I simply pushed off again, landing on a smaller and higher platform, this one set on a massive pole that made it completely solid but, as if to make up for it, there was a pendulum swinging right above it, forcing me to dodge sideways with a quick twist. Despite my dodge, the trunk glanced me, shifting my balance just a little, even if there was no pain. Reacting mostly on instinct, I pushed against the speeding trunk, wondering if it had a licence for going so fast in an obviously pedestrian area, using the momentum gained to make a jump I hadn’t planned on. But better taking an unplanned jump than getting hit by a speeding tree.

My previous plan crashing like a car into the trees, I continued moving, only to suddenly get punched into the side by a rock. Not only were there swinging trees, but also flying rocks, shooting from newly opened holes in the wall. There was still no pain, which I welcomed, but the rock had changed my momentum, breaking the plan I had barely formed in my head.

Following my momentum, I kept running, jumping and twisting when necessary. Parts of my original plan were still floating in my mind, but I was mostly reacting on instinct. Somehow, it felt like I wasn't making any headway and the way kept shifting. There was simply no time to take in my surroundings, my mind narrowing to the point that I only perceived the next two platforms, the swinging trees and the launched rocks, hoping that I went into the right direction. I had no idea how much longer the gauntlet was but I was certain that I had crossed the maybe twenty meters it had been at the start. Without time to think, I continued pushing, feeling myself starting to tire, making it harder to keep my momentum going, harder to dodge the flying rocks and swinging trees.

Suddenly, one of the rocks hit me in the leg, just as I was about to jump making me  stumble, my arms windmilling around in a bit of a panic. But there was nothing to keep me from going over, even as another rock hit me in the side, almost taunting my efforts.

Down, I went, into the raging current. I tried to swim, or at least tread water to stay afloat but my body felt so heavy, pulling me down into the unknown, even as my mind was screaming at my body to fight.

Suddenly, before I could begin to panic at the prospect of virtual drowning, the water vanished with the sensation of non-movement. Opening the eyes that had clenched shut at some point, I found myself kneeling on dry ground, a blue screen floating in front of me.

• First test, finished. Data recorded.
• Please wait to be transported to the next testing stage. 

I could only shake my head, partially in disappointment at what felt like failure, partially in confusion. Had I failed or had I passed? I was certain I had crossed more than the original width of the moat but I also had obviously failed to pass it completely. Before I could take in more about my surroundings, the sensation of non-movement took me away, as darkness surrounded me, once again.

The first thing I noticed, even before the blackness vanished, was classical music, coming from somewhere. But, as if to mock me, the music was accompanied by a smell I somewhat connected to forests, not that I was really sure why. Before I could ponder too much about the sensations, the blackness fell away and I could understand the connection, I was standing at the edge of what appeared to be a dark forest, looking at a small, but brightly lit, baroque manor-house a short distance away.

As I was blinking my eyes at the scene, a now familiar blue screen popped up, explaining my test  in exhausting detail. Not!

• Welcome to the Second Test.
• A masquerade is taking place. Your objective is to get to the master-bedroom on the second floor of the mansion. Do not make a spectacle of yourself. Choose your garments. 

Beneath the blue-screen, hovering in a similar ghostly fashion were three different costumes, obviously for me to choose from. The first one was a pure black, ninja-style costume, the second one a ball-gown complete with mask and lastly, the third was a servant's dress, very much similar to the garb worn by some of the people I could see around the manor.

Again there were multiple obvious ways to skin this cat, one for each garment. I could waltz in from the front, wearing the gown, bluffing everyone left, right and center, maybe use my womanly wiles as I was doing so, to gain the access I needed.

Or I could try to sneak in, avoiding the guards and playing cat-burglar, climbing walls, maybe tattooing a barcode into my neck, things like that, until I reached the second floor.

And lastly, I could play the servant, simply acting as if I belonged, hoping that nobody questioned the act. In a way, it was a combination of the first two options.

After a moment of consideration, I decided. I was certain, beyond any reasonable doubt, that I'd be unable to pull off the socialite, there was no way in hell or any plane of existence that I could manage that. I would be found out long before I ever got near the front-door.

If I were to be given a game-pad, maybe a white hood or hidden blade, I could try myself at sneaking in, ninja-style but given that I had to work with my physical body, I wasn’t so sure about my chances. There was a world of difference between sneaking with a keyboard and sneaking with my body, even if I thought my chances with the ninja-garb were much, much higher than with the gown.

But the servant’s dress, that had potential. I was used to acting as if I belonged, used to covering my discomfort in a place where I felt out of place and uncomfortable. I had survived high-school after all.

After a second of consideration, partially questioning my choice, partially unsure how I got from floating, apparently 2D-image of a dress to wearing one, I reached out, simply trying to touch it. I was in a virtual world after all and previous menus in my home-area had reacted to deliberate touch.

When my hand made contact with the image of the dress, all three garments vanished and the jump-suit I had been wearing was suddenly replaced by the servant's dress. If only changing was always that fast, even my hair had been put up in a practical bun, just like the hairstyle the visible servants were wearing.

Waiting for a moment, until nobody was in sight, I made it over to the outside of the mansion, and started to slowly skulk around, learning the lay of the land. It was quite impressive how little attention was paid to the small woman, carrying a bucket of water and a mop, it was as good as any cloak of invisibility.

By moving purposefully, acting as if I knew where I was going and in a hurry, I managed to scout out most of the ground-floor, especially what I thought were the servant’s areas. In one of the rooms, the infirmary, I found something truly useful, the medicine cabinet. Raiding it, I was rewarded with  a couple of interesting concoctions, bringing a smile to my face. One bottle was labelled "Laxative", another was labelled "Combat Boost", plus a couple of rather generic-sounding stuff, anti-inflammatory, hangover-cure and painkillers but nothing like those first two. A quick read of the warning-labels told me even more about the treasure I had found.

The Combat Boost had the listed side-effect of 'Greatly increases aggression in higher dosage', making me raise an eye-brow, as a plan was beginning to form in my mind.

Snooping around the infirmary some more, I found a scalpel and hid it in the sleeve of my dress.

With the scouting done, I had some information to work with, even if most of it were bad news. Every staircase leading upwards had at least one guard standing next to it, looking vigilant. For a moment, I considered trying to bluff my way past them, but, just as I had discarded the fancy gown, I discarded that idea. The manor wasn’t big enough for the guards to see an unknown servant as usual, they would know their co-workers.

The only stairs without guards next to it, was the grand staircase, right smack-dab in the ball-room, with the party going on. Walking up there, without some sort of distraction would invite a lot of scrutiny, far too much of it.

I had spent enough time sneaking around that my grade for time, if there was one, was probably abysmal anyway but there was nothing I could do about that any longer. Still, the information I had gathered and the tools I had found had coalesced into a plan that hopefully would get me upstairs. And get a bit of cathartic revenge on the people who had been able to take part in the dances during my high-school time, by spoiling the event for the virtual party-goers.

A quick trip to the kitchen allowed me to spike some of the bubbly pink concoctions with laxatives and some other drinks rest with the combat boost. Part of me considered mixing my supplies but I had a feeling that the results would be more interesting if I managed to hit as many people as possible. In addition, each spiked drink got a quintuple dose to make sure the effects would be, let's say, explosive.

After watching the spiked drinks get carried towards the ball-room, I hid in the shadows within a side-alcove of the great hall watching the festivities and waiting for my plan to come together. I didn't have to wait too long, the servant carrying the tray of spiked drinks entered and apparently, there were a couple of thirty people waiting for him. The medicine I had used had to be some kind of ingame item, it’s effects were far too quick to be realistic. Within five minutes the first lady felt the explosive effect of the laxative and recoloured her dress in an interesting shade of brown, leaving her mortified as gales of laughter broke out. For a moment, even I felt bad, being the butt of many-a-joke during highschool but just for a moment.

After that moment, things got too interesting for me to feel bad. The laughter set off her paramour, who had apparently had happened to consume one of the other spiked drinks, or maybe he was just regularly prone to roaring like an angry bull and charging another party-goer. Within minutes, the whole affair shifted from "happy, high-society shindig" into "shitty brawl" if you pardon the pun, giving me all the distraction I could ever hope for.

Staying near the walls as much as possible, I sneaked up the stairs, turning the first corner I could, just to get out of sight. A quick look around showed me a serious problem, one that stopped my plans right then and there. Finding the staircase up was easy, sadly, two guards were on station, just like downstairs.

Knowing that the brawl downstairs would raise an alarm in moments, likely already had, I decided that using it as a distraction was my best bet. Running up to them, trying my best to look flustered and panicked, something that came quite easy to me, I started begging them for help. My words must have worked better than expected, or maybe they simply could hear the commotion downstairs, making one guard take off, to investigate, or something.

Without a good way to take care of the other guard, who began paying a whole lot of attention to my face, I began panicking, even more than I already had, and decided to take  a chance. Remembering many a stealth-takedown, perfectly executed on the push of a button, I struck jamming the scalpel past the chest-armour, into the guard’s throat.

What I hadn’t considered, before panicking, was that I was no syrian monk wearing a white hood and that I had no bar-code in my neck and instead of crumbling to the floor in a testament to my impressive skill, the guard started thrashing around, making a god-awful racket. It looked like panic didn’t just prod me into action, it also prodded the guard, just that he had a lot more muscles to act with. If I had wondered what the swinging logs would have felt like, I had a feeling that the wild swing of the heavily armoured guard was an adequate substitute, easily taking me off my feet. For a moment, pain lanced through my body, likely a lot less than I should have felt but more than enough to tell me, I had taken damage. A lot of damage.

Pushing myself up, I realised that I had been a lot more skillful than anticipated, or maybe just incredibly lucky, the guard was on his knees, one hand propping himself up, the other trying to stem the crimson flood rushing down his front, as he made pained, rasping sounds, his eyes following me with a strange expression.

Forcing myself to remember that I was just playing a game, I dodged past him, rushing up the stairs, hoping that I would find the right room, fast. Below, I heard bells starting to ring, drowning out the panting of my own breath. Flying through the hallway, as fast as my legs carried me, I pushed open every door  I could, trying to find the master-bedroom. Just as I heard shouts and banging feet coming up from the stairs, one door swung open, allowing me to see a wide, double bed, a vanity and some chests, only for the world to turn black as the feeling of non-movement returned, with a blue screen for me to read. 

• Second test, finished. Data recorded.
• Please wait to be transported to the next testing stage.

This time, the first thing I perceived was a strange, wet smell along with a chilly, slightly clammy feeling. With the black fading, I was able to see grey rock all around me, a dim light, coming from every direction at once, allowing me to look around. I forced myself to focus on the current situation, forcing the look on the guard’s face out of my mind, reminding myself that I was in a game. That I had killed millions, maybe even billions, of beings in various video-games over my years as a gamer. But they had never tried to look me in the eyes.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to read the blue screen in front of me.

• Welcome to the Third Test.
• Your objective is to get behind the door on the other side of the main-chamber. 

“Yes, those tests give me so much information, I might shut down from information overload.” I muttered to myself, annoyed at the lack of information. I preferred to have my assignments defined as clearly as possible, the open nature of the tasks here reminded me of those horrible school-assignments, open-ended stories, or worse, group-work.

Shaking my head again, I started going the one way I could go, at least unless I wanted to start tunneling through the walls.  There were some strange scratches on the wall, nothing that I could recognise but drawing my eye, as I started to notice a few curious similarities, too regular to be random, my mind trying to make out a pattern.

As I focused on the wall next to me, I continued walking, when the wall suddenly vanished, with me stepping into the main-chamber. My field of vision suddenly widened and I had to blink, to keep myself from being overwhelmed. The chamber was alight with an eerie rainbow glow, coming from hundreds, if not thousands, of coloured symbols, floating in the air. I recognised some of the symbols, having noticed them on the wall as I walked past but there were so many of them. So beautiful.

My mind was held in thrall by the forms, the colours, the fascination and I stood there, without any perception of the passing time, simply watching the symbols, cataloguing them.

There were patterns, similarities between different symbols, similarities between different groups of symbols, a world of form, colour and pattern, for me to admire and study. It was a riddle, a thing of mathematical beauty, a painting of progression, form and colour. Words simply failed me, my mind too occupied with form.

Finally, after I felt like I had stood there for days, without moving more than my eyes and, at times, my head, I managed to tear myself away from the artwork I had been watching. Looking back at the signs on the walls, I almost shed a tear, they were similar but the beauty was lost. It was like a bad copy, keeping the form but losing the substance. Lifeless representations, without the spark that made them truly beautiful.

There was a door, on the other side of the room, and on it, there were more of the murdered symbols, of the lifeless runes. I couldn’t read them, but I could guess that the floating symbols and the lifeless runes had a connection, some sort of riddle that would allow me to open the door.

Looking back, through the corridor I had entered through and into the great hall itself, I noticed multiple progressions, quite similar to the similarities in the floating symbols. Some of them made my head hurt, just from looking at them, while others made me feel calm, bringing a smile to my face.

Going back to the beginning of the corridor, I began tracing one of the progressions that made me feel good, letting my hands experience what my eyes might be unable to. There was a logic to them, a pattern I could almost understand, just barely out of reach for my slowly tiering mind. As I walked, the feeling got stronger, as if I was about to blurt out the truth, for the world to hear, as if I had known that sequence all my life and was only now learning its name. But I never got there.

I reached the door on the other side of the room, almost stumbling from the sudden stop of runes, the end of the progression I had followed. I had been deeply entranced and the end of the progression was almost like waking from a beautiful dream.

Shaking off the effects, I walked back to the start, picking up a second sequence, this one making me feel a little melancholy, my mind going back to my parents, for some reason. I missed them, but missing them meant I had loved them. It felt right, right to think of them and right to follow the symbols.

Reaching the door, I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, my hand reaching for my face, confused where it had come from. I rarely cried, hadn’t cried since my parent’s funeral, after they had been killed in a car-accident, but now I was shedding a tear in a video-game?

Shaking my head again, confused but, somehow, feeling better than I had in a long time, I looked at the two sequences I had followed, before turning around, watching the floating symbols, trying to find a continuation to the sequences I had followed before.

I found the second one first, the symbols that seemed to fit the sequence were just as beautiful as I had thought they would be, shedding a cold, silvery-blue light like a full-moon reflected in an icy river. Looking further, I managed to spot the other pattern, almost hidden from sight, the symbols shedding no light at all. They were not simply black, they seemed to absorb the light around them, making it difficult to even see their shapes.

Walking back to the start, I let my hands and eyes roam across the symbols again, finding another set that felt right and following it, until reaching the door. It took me longer, a lot longer, the patterns eluding me at times, making me retract my steps a few times, but somehow, I made it. Looking out into the room, I was reasonably certain that I had spotted the right set of runes, slowly pulsing with a crimson light.

For a moment, I considered trying to follow the other patterns, but just looking at the floating symbols gave me a headache, as if my mind rejected them on a fundamental level. Some of them, one shining with white light, another flickering in yellow and orange, made me recoil in disgust and anger. There was no way I would give them any attention, none at all. Not in this life or any life to come.

But just because I had followed three sets of symbols to the door, finding their floating version, I had no idea how to open the door. However, given that I only had the symbols to work with, I decided to see what would happen if I deliberately touched them. So far, I had avoided that, simply because I had stuck to following the wall and the symbols were floating in the middle of the room, away from it.

Walking up to the pulsing red symbols, I had followed last, I reached out and, upon making contact, felt a strange resistance for a moment, before a warm, pulsing sensation suffused me. It felt a little strange, but so very right and, with that sensation filling me up, I returned to the door, tracing the symbol belonging to the sequence. I felt my eyes widen, when my finger left a trail of red, lighting up the symbol, just like the floating symbols were glowing.

Nodding to myself, I repeated the action with the other two sets of runes, both coming with their own sensations and colours.

Once all three symbols were lit up, I waited for a moment, to see if the door would open, fearing that I would have to go through the same with the headache-symbols.

“Open, dammit, I’m done!” I muttered, not wanting to touch those symbols, not even the representations on the wall.

Just as the breath I was speaking with ended, the door flashed with light for a moment, before rumbling upwards, with a grinding noise. I felt my mouth fall open, annoyed at myself for not thinking to ask the bloody door, but who would.

Shaking my head at myself, not sure if I truly was annoyed that I had taken so long to take in the beauty of the room or simply content that I had, I walked through the door, into darkness , the sensation of non-motion and a blue screen.

• Third test, finished. Data recorded.
• Please wait to be transported to the evaluation stage.