Chapter Twelve: Oracle's Trial

  For a brief moment, Jason felt weightless, as if suspended between worlds. The air thickened and crackled with energy, a tingling sensation spreading over his skin. The world around him shifted.

  When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a dark, empty chamber. “Hello?” His voice echoed across ancient, distant walls.

  He squinted, trying to see anything in the darkness.

  “Interesting,” a soft voice drifted across the void.

  Gradually, the room warmed and brightened. Jason felt a presence behind him and turned slowly to see a woman emerging from the shadows. She was draped in flowing robes that shimmered. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her back, framing a face that was both stern and amused.

  “Are you the Oracle?” he asked.

  She nodded, moving towards him with an otherworldly grace. Her piercing blue eyes glinting with secrets she would never tell.

  “Jason,” she said, her voice a melodic whisper that echoed through the chamber. “You are brave to stand before me.”

  Jason swallowed hard, unable to tear his gaze away from her. “I-uh,” he stammered, feeling exposed under her scrutinizing eyes. “You know who I am?”

  She circled him slowly. “I know much about you, Jason. More than you do, perhaps. I see fear, grief, and regret. So much regret. You carry a burden and a dream not your own.”

  Jason’s heart ached as memories of Alex flooded his mind.

  “What are you holding on to so tightly, Jason?”

  She vanished, her words stretching into the now complete darkness.

  As the echo of his name faded, the darkness parted, revealing a scene hauntingly familiar. Jason found himself back in the cramped, run-down apartment he had shared with his twin brother, Alex. He breathed in the smell mildew and rust, the dim light from a single flickering bulb casting long shadows on the peeling wallpaper. It was as though the past had come alive to confront him.

  Jason’s breath caught as he saw Alex sitting at the small kitchen table, hunched over his study materials. Despite the grim surroundings, Alex’s eyes were filled with hope and determination. The sight was almost unbearable. Alex must have just gotten back from his shift at Albert’s Hardware store.

  Jason watched the scene unfold as his past-self stormed into the apartment, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed loudly in the confined space, but Alex didn’t flinch. He remained focused on his textbooks, unwavering in his resolve.

  “Do you even hear me?” Past Jason shouted, his face flushed with anger. “Why are you always studying? It’s pointless. We’re never getting out of here.”

  Alex looked up, his eyes calm but resolute. “Jason, we have to believe in something better. We can’t let this place define us.”

  Jason scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Believe in what? Dreams? They don’t pay the rent. We do. And barely.”

  Alex’s gaze hardened. “This scholarship is my way out. Our way out. I’m going to make something of myself, and then I’m coming back to help this town.”

  Jason sneered. “You’re delusional. No one cares about us. They see us as trash, and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

  Alex stood up, his chair scraping against the worn linoleum floor. “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not just shit and more shit all the way down. You know better than that. The good doesn’t cancel out the bad, but the bad doesn’t get rid of the good either.”

  Jason’s shoulders slumped. “Why do you care so much about this town? What’s the point?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do,” Alex replied, his voice unwavering. “They’re good people. They didn’t kill our foster parents. And they didn’t put us back in that place. A drunk driver did that. And hating everyone isn’t going to bring them back. Besides, someone has to take care of my little brother.”

  “You are literally five minutes older than me,” Jason scowled, though his mood was slightly lighter.

  “Jason, they would have wanted us to pull ourselves out. And there are good people here. Lost souls without a chance. But if we were successful, if we made something of ourselves in Terra Mythica, we could do something about it. Maybe, just maybe we could help. Even if only a little. I want to build something better. I know it’s a long shot, but fuck, I gotta have hope.”

  Jason shook his head, tears of frustration brimming in his eyes. “And what about me? What am I supposed to do?”

  “First, don’t be such a little brat.” Alex smiled as Jason flipped him off. “Second, join me. Study, work hard. We can both get out of here. Together. Double dragon.”

  Jason turned away, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t.”

  Alex sighed, looking at his brother with a mixture of sadness and determination. “You’re not alone, bro. We can do this.”

  They hugged, Jason crying silently against Alex’s shoulder. Alex whispered, “I miss them too.”

  The world went dark again.

  When the light returned, two years had passed.

  The seedy alleyway was dimly lit, shadows clinging to the walls like dark secrets. The world was cold and damp, making Jason’s skin prickle with unease. The leader of a local gang, Rin, stepped forward, a hulking figure with a scar running down his cheek and a perpetual sneer. His eyes, cold and calculating, matched the sinister grin that never quite reached them.

  “Come on, kid. You want to square things or not?”

  He glanced around, noting the other faces lurking in the shadows. Their eyes followed his every move.

  “Your brother has all the keys and codes for the hardware store. We just need you to get in and turn off the security. Tonight. Eight o’clock. We’ll all be waiting. Don’t mess this up, kid. Do it, and we’ll be good.”

  The alleyway seemed to close in around him, the darkness deepening as Jason nodded, a reluctant agreement escaping his lips.

  Jason had no intention of ever working with them, but he needed the money when times were rough. The money he and his brother made often wasn’t enough, so Jason secretly paid some of their bills without him knowing. Now they were offering to wipe his debt clean if he joined them. Just one job.

  That night, as the clock ticked towards eight, Jason found himself unable to go through with it. He couldn’t betray his brother like that. He didn’t show up to the store and instead wandered the streets aimlessly until he heard the wail of sirens in the distance.

  When Jason finally made it home, he found Alex sitting at their worn kitchen table, a rare smile lighting up his face.

  “No, please, not again,” Jason whispered as he watched the events unfold. He stood, like a ghost in the corner, helpless as the scene played out.

  “Jason,” Alex called out, his voice brimming with excitement. He held up a crumpled envelope with trembling hands. “I did it! I got accepted.”

  Jason paused in the doorway, the weight of his guilt momentarily lifting. “Accepted? You mean—“

  “Yeah,” Alex interrupted, his grin widening. “The scholarship. The kit just arrived.” His eyes sparkled with a mixture of relief and hope, emotions that had been scarce since their foster parents’ deaths.

  In the center of the table sat a sleek, silver helmet, smooth and featureless, with no buttons or visible seams. Alex ran his fingers over its polished surface, his excitement palpable.

  “This is it, Jason,” he said, his voice trembling with anticipation. “I can finally see a way out of this mess.”

  Jason managed a smile, feeling a lump form in his throat as he took in his brother’s joy. “That’s incredible!” This could change everything for them.

  Alex’s eyes lit up. “We just missed the enrollment. The next enrollment period isn’t for another week and a half, and I haven’t gotten the official access codes yet but… I want to try it out. Maybe there are some in-game manuals I can start on.”

  Jason was just as excited as him.

  Alex wasted no time, positioning the helmet over his head. As soon as it touched his scalp, a soft hum filled the room and then vanished. Alex’s eyes fluttered shut, his body relaxing into the chair. His breathing slowed, and for a moment, he looked serene, as if he were drifting into a deep sleep.

  Jason watched, a mix of awe and trepidation coursing through him. Then, without warning, the door was violently kicked open, slamming against the wall with a deafening crash. Jason’s heart leaped into his throat. “Bro!” he yelled, but Alex was already immersed in the game. Desperation surged through Jason as he ripped the helmet from Alex’s head.

  Alex screamed, his eyes snapping open, unfocused and glassy. For a split second, there was an odd, distant look in his eyes, as if a part of him was still elsewhere. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog, and blinked rapidly to focus on the surrounding chaos.

  The gang leader, flanked by his men, stormed into the cramped apartment. Their faces were masks of rage, their eyes dark with anger. The leader’s scarred face twisted into a sneer as he looked back and forth between the brothers. “Double trouble. Which of you is Jason and which is Alex?”

  Without even a glance between them, they both answered, “I’m Jason.”

  “Real fucking cute. We just have to beat the shit out of both of you,” he spat, grabbing Jason by the collar and yanking him forward.

  Jason barely had time to react before the first blow landed, a sharp punch to his gut that left him gasping for air. Another punch followed, then another, each one more brutal than the last. The pain was immediate and overwhelming, radiating through his body with every strike.

  “Stop it!” Alex’s voice cut through the haze of pain. He lunged at Rin, trying to pull him off Jason. “Leave him alone!”

  One of Rin’s thugs, a wiry man with a snake tattoo winding up his neck, backhanded Alex, sending him sprawling to the floor. Alex scrambled back up, blood trickling from his lip, his eyes blazing with protective fury. “Jason, get out of here!”

  “Hey, look what we’ve got here?” another thug said, grabbing the VR kit.

  “Put that thing back, Kyle. For fuck’s sake. You don’t mess with Excelsior’s tech,” growled a hulking brute with muscles straining against his shirt.

  Rin added, “Yeah, my uncle tried to steal one once. Spent the rest of his life eating through a straw. Shit will fry your brains.”

  The brute dropped it to the floor. He stomped on it, bending the sleek metal inward.

  Alex pushed himself up again, eyes fierce with unyielding determination. “Now’s your chance, Alex! Run!”

  Jason tried to stand to fight, but his legs buckled under the relentless assault. He watched in horror as the gang turned their attention to Alex, their fists and feet a blur of violence. Alex fought back with everything he had, but he was outnumbered and overpowered.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “No! Stop!” Jason screamed, his voice cracking with desperation. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Alex’s outstretched hand before another blow knocked him back.

  Alex’s cries of pain echoed through the apartment, each one tearing at Jason’s heart. The gang’s leader kicked Alex in the ribs, the sickening crunch of bone audible even over the chaos. Blood splattered across the linoleum floor, mingling with the dirt and grime.

  “Leave him alone!” Jason’s voice was a raw, anguished plea, but the gang showed no mercy.

  Alex’s movements grew weaker, his attempts to protect Jason faltering as the beating continued. The light in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a haunting emptiness. With one final, brutal kick to the head, Alex’s body went limp, collapsing in a heap.

  The gang leader wiped the blood from his knuckles, a satisfied smirk on his face. “That’s what happens when you mess with us,” he growled, casting a disdainful glance at Jason and starting toward him.

  A loud boom shot through the room as a buckshot burst into the fridge. In the doorway stood their neighbor and owner of Albert’s Hardware Goods. He was wearing a bathrobe, with a shotgun, slippers and disheveled chestnut hair. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you have until the count of ‘one’ to get the fuck out of here. I won’t ask again.”

  He fired another shot just above their heads. “One.”

  The gang retreated, their footsteps echoing in the silence that followed. Jason crawled to his brother’s side, his vision blurred by tears. He cradled Alex’s head in his lap, his hands shaking.

  “Alex, no,” he whispered, his voice choked with grief. “Please, don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Albert took in the gruesome sight and immediately called the police. It would take forty-five minutes before they arrived. Another ten before Alex would be taken to the ER.

  The room closed in around Jason; the walls pressing in, suffocating him. The smell of blood and sweat was overwhelming, mingling with a bitter taste that filled his mouth.

  The darkness enveloped him once more.

  Jason now stood watching himself stand numbly in the harsh sterility of the hospital, as the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a cold glow on the floor. The rhythmic beeping of monitors mingled with distant announcements from the nurses’ station created a symphony of clinical sounds.

  He stood at the threshold of a hospital room, his heart heavy. Inside, his brother lay motionless, a tangle of tubes and wires connecting him to life-support machines. His pale face was a stark contrast to the vibrant person he once knew, eyes closed in an unending sleep, the gentle rise and fall of his chest the only indication of life.

  A doctor approached, clipboard in hand, his expression a blend of sympathy and resignation. “Your brother’s condition is... beyond what we can manage here,” he said, hesitating. “The Stasis System will keep him alive, but without advanced tech intervention... he will never wake up.” The advanced treatment would cost 800,000 credits.

  Jason recalled the holos of the sky turning a sickly orange after the Great War, the air heavy with the acrid smell of burning cities. The relentless famine that followed eroded communities, leaving behind only husks of what once were thriving towns.

  The war had been far worse than anyone could have imagined, nearly wiping away the 20 billion people on Earth. Famine struck next, devastating the survivors. Many good-hearted individuals poured their fortunes into relief efforts, but when that proved insufficient, governments turned to the largest industries and tycoons, taxing them heavily with massive fines and penalties.

  At first, the tycoons managed to survive and adapt, but soon even their resources were depleted. Businesses collapsed, poverty swept the globe, and life deteriorated for everyone. The wealthiest, with their remaining fortunes reduced to mere pittance, went into hiding, trying to preserve what little they had left for their families.

  Crippling taxes had turned even the wealthiest families into paupers. Innovation had ground to a halt. And forty years went by in silence.

  Then, the game appeared. Twenty years ago, John Rearden, a gas station worker, invented and founded Excelsior Deep Dive VR, a technology light-years ahead of anything seen before. He quickly became one of the last wealthy men on the planet, building an empire from the ashes. He started buying land, factories, and farms. They got into production again and the quality of life started to improve, subtly. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  The most powerful players in the game became highly sought after, earning substantial sums for their crafting and raiding skills. In-game gold could be exchanged for real-world currency, offering a potential lifeline. There were no taxes in the game, and it became so important that real-world finances started to tie in. In the game, anyone could make a career, join a powerful guild, or become a successful artisan. The game functioned on a 42-to-1 time dilation, greatly increasing the quality of life for those who could afford access. The time dilation meant that a month’s work in-game could fit into a day. And above that, it was the only place where people could live truly well.

  However, people still needed to keep the real world functioning, and there were a limited number of tickets each year to join the game. Rumors spread that with enough money and influence, one could bypass the line, as many of the wealthiest had done. The rest needed to compete for scholarships or wait for the annual lottery.

  People worked hard every year to earn acceptance into the game and a scholarship to one of the Tutorial Universities. Many had tried for nearly 20 years without success.

  He gazed at his brother, determination hardening his resolve. If the game held the key to saving him, then into the game he would go, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead to secure the future they both deserved. Getting in could change their lives forever.

  The scene shifted to another memory. He was back in their apartment, alone. Days had passed since the attack. The gang hadn’t returned. Jason assumed they were lying low, biding their time. But the damage was done. After the police left, the silence in the apartment was almost deafening. Part of him wanted Rin and his goons to come back to finish the job. Another part couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving the place where he had grown up with Alex.

  He sat there for days, the weight of loss pressing down on him. With no food, he survived by drinking from the dirty tap, the metallic taste of the water a bitter reminder of his helplessness.

  Rent was due in a week. He had nothing. The loneliness was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. His mind was a whirlwind of grief and guilt.

  A few days later, a knock at the door tugged Jason from his stupor. It was Albert. He stood there, a worn-out look on his face, offering Jason a place to stay. He didn’t try to soothe Jason or apologize for the loss or his inability to help cover the needed medical treatment. Jason knew Albert was barely surviving on the store’s meager earnings, just as trapped as the rest of them. The whole town probably didn’t have enough between them to even cover the equipment needed for the operation.

  Jason barely registered Albert’s words. He shook his head, declining the offer. As Albert turned to leave, he handed Jason a roll of bills. “Your brother didn’t pick up his last paycheck. I’ve added something for you.” With that, he left without another word, the creak of the door closing behind him echoing in the silent room.

  A few more days passed in a blur of sorrow. Then, another knock at the door. This time, it was a deliveryman, holding an envelope. Jason stared at it, uncomprehending, until the man handed it over. “Sign here,” he said, his voice just another sound in the uneasy silence. Jason scrawled his name and took the envelope and returned to his bed.

  He held the envelope with trembling hands. The letter inside bore the emblem of Excelsior, an intricate design that shimmered subtly in the light. He unfolded the paper.

  “Dear Mr. Rolander,

  Congratulations on your acceptance into Mount Olympus University.

  By now, you should have received your state-of-the-art, latest edition VR kit. This kit is yours to keep and will not be reissued in case of loss or damage.

  We hope you have had a chance to explore the entrance hall and get accustomed to the controls.

  We thank you again for applying and were very impressed with your entrance exam results.

  A world of magic and wonder awaits you.

  Please find a slip inside. It has your code for entrance.

  Memorize it. It will provide you with official access to Terra Mythica and Mount Olympus University.”

  Jason’s eyes flicked to the strange slip of paper enclosed. It felt metallic to the touch. Written in neat, precise handwriting was the mental code he needed to gain entry. He read it aloud to himself, committing it to memory.

  “Ducks shake hands when no one is listening to Shakespeare.”

  He repeated the phrase under his breath, over and over, until it was etched into his mind. This was his key, his passage to a new life—a life where his brother could be saved, and where they could both find a future worth living.

  Jason headed to the local hardware store, borrowing some tools from Albert. He didn’t explain why he needed them, and Albert didn’t ask. With a day loan ticket in hand, he gathered a small mallet, precision screwdrivers, and clamps, knowing his hands were skilled but unfamiliar with this advanced tech.

  Back in his dingy apartment bedroom, Jason carefully inspected the dented helmet. He worked methodically, easing it back into shape. Hours later, it still bore signs of damage, but he hoped it would be enough.

  He remembered what Rin had said about it frying people’s brains. What have I got to lose? Jason thought as he put on the helmet.

  The world around him transitioned into darkness. For a moment, he feared it was broken. Then, his hands started to form in front of him, illuminated against the void.

  A prompt appeared.

  Welcome, Alex.

  Jason quickly took the helmet off, his heart pounding. It felt like he had just seen a ghost. That night, he cried harder than he had ever cried before.

  The next morning, he made a decision. If this was going to work, if he was going to use his brother’s scholarship, Jason knew he needed to get out of town, far away from any trace of Rin or even Albert. Somewhere he could live in private. What he was about to do was not only highly illegal, but highly dangerous. And if anyone found out he would probably be whisked off to one of those black sites. Or something. Honestly, he had no idea what would happen if anyone found out. But he knew it wouldn’t be good.

  He took the money Albert had given him and purchased a one-way ticket to an obscure destination, several hours away by Excelsior Rail. Using a fake name, he hoped to bury his past and forge a new beginning.

  The rail ride was long and uncomfortable, but it gave him time to think. As they passed through towns and cities, the signs of collapse were everywhere: shuttered businesses, abandoned factories, streets empty except for the occasional scavenger. With unemployment at nearly 80% worldwide, most production had ceased, and the economy had crumbled. People were starving, and desperation hung in the air like a toxic fog.

  When the bullet train finally stopped, Jason stepped off into an unfamiliar town. He wandered its streets, seeking a place where he could lay low. Eventually, he found a dingy bar with a “Help Wanted” sign. The owner, a burly man with a thick beard and a perpetually furrowed brow, looked him up and down.

  “Can’t pay you,” the owner said gruffly. “But the job comes with a room and a meal a day.”

  Jason nodded, relief washing over him. “Deal.”

  The owner extended a hand. “Name’s Teddy.”

  “John,” Jason lied, shaking Teddy’s hand firmly.

  “Let’s get you a meal. Consider it an advance on tomorrow’s work.”

  Teddy led him to a small, dimly lit room above the bar. It smelled of stale beer and cigarettes, a far cry from home, but it was a place to hide and try to forget. Jason threw himself into the work, taking any odd task that Teddy needed done—cleaning tables, washing dishes, unloading deliveries.

  Jason worked harder, the physical labor a welcome distraction.

  Days came and went, and he got into a routine. He would work the night shift, cleaning after everyone left. He would have a late breakfast and then eat the uneaten leftovers, when there were any.

  He kept a countdown until the day of the official orientation at Mount Olympus University.

  When the time finally arrived, it was just after his shift, and he sat alone in his room. He stared at the helmet, its faint inner light pulsing steadily.

  “This was your dream, Alex,” Jason murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the cool surface of the helmet. “I’ll make you proud.”

  Jason steadied his breath and slipped the helmet over his head.

  Tuesday, April 21st, 2251, 12:03 AM.

  Initializing...

  The surrounding darkness lifted, and the scene dissolved into a bright, blinding light. When it faded, Jason was back in the chamber, standing before the Oracle.

  His vision blurred with tears. He no longer cared about the risks he was taking, about the borrowed identity, or the potential consequences. Let them find out. Let them take everything. He just wanted the memories to stop, but they kept coming, relentless and unforgiving.

  “Do you see now?” the Oracle’s voice echoed in the void, raspy and resonant. “You carry the weight of your brother’s dreams. But do you truly understand the burden you bear?”

  Before Jason could respond there was another voice, darker and more sinister. “Interesting,” it intoned.

  The shadows beside the Oracle twisted and writhed, coalescing into the form of a dark, imposing figure. His silhouette exuded an aura of quiet menace, the very air around him seeming to chill. Muscles rippled beneath his obsidian-black robes, each movement as precise and deliberate as a predator stalking its prey. His face was a mask of stern resolve, carved from the very essence of darkness, revealing nothing of the thoughts that churned behind those cold, calculating eyes. Every sound muted, every movement stilled.

  His gaze was piercing, two burning embers in the shadows, devoid of warmth or mercy. The weight of his presence pressed down on the room. The atmosphere grew heavier, the shadows around him deepening, as if they were drawn to the gravity of his presence. The figure’s aura was one of unyielding authority, a stark contrast to the curious light of the Oracle.

  “Oh?” The female voice asked. “Could he befit your domain? You are ever so… prudent with your invitations.”

  “Perhaps,” the dark figure mused, his tone filled with a dangerous curiosity. “Perhaps.”

  The dark presence loomed closer. “You think you can handle this burden?” it hissed. “You think you are worthy?”

  Jason stood tall, his heart filled with a newfound resolve and fury at all the personal intrusions. This was just a game. And fuck them if they thought they could put him in his place. Fuck them for making it so damn hard to climb to success. He would do it just to spite them.

  “I know I’m worthy,” he said firmly. “And I won’t let you or anything stand in my way.”

  Jason thought he almost caught the remnants of a smile on the shadowy face as it vanished from the room.

  “And the rest of you?” The Oracle spoke, looking off into the middle distance of the dark. “He could be a worthy choice for many of you.”

  She paused, as if listening to someone speak, and nodded somberly. “I see. Very well then.”

  She turned back to Jason. Her look was soft, and her eyes hid something more. Sympathy? Hope?

  “The choice is yours, Jason. Good luck.”

  With that she vanished, leaving Jason alone with a short prompt in his view.

  Quest Update

  The Oracle’s Trial

  You have received the favor of a god. I knew you had it in you.

  You have been invited to follow the following deities - Hades.

  You have no other invitations.

  Would you like to align with - Hades?

  Accept | Reject

  ***

  Jason started at the prompt for a long moment. “What the…?”