“Have you ever watched anime?” Peter asks after rambling on the subject for an half an hour straight as we ride from one side of the Civilization’s territory to the other. I feel sorry for his mount getting kicked in the side by his hooves.

  “Maybe.” From what Peter’s described, it sounds like something I would have at least tried once in my life.

  “If I'm not logged into the game or at school, I'm watching anime.” Clearly this subject is going to go on for a while yet. “Do you know what an isakai is?”

  “Nope” I say. Is that a different language?

  “So like” he launches. “Somebody, usually in Japan, dies, usually by getting hit by a truck, and they wake up in a new world.” He keeps talking but I don't hear him. I died. That's what happened to me. I got isakaied? Isakode? Into this world after I died.

  “I died!” I interrupt whatever he’s been saying.

  “Yeah I know, you died after you attacked the Honorlord’s son too early.” Peter says, an eyebrow raised.

  “No, I died. Me. I died and the Monitor put me in this game!” I shout at the empty space in front of me.

  Peter has logged out.

  Why did he log out? It’s not his bedtime yet is it? I hear someone clicking their tongue behind me. It sounds oddly electric.

  “Naughty naughty. That's our little secret.” The monitor stands tall enough to be eye-to-eye with me, even while I’m mounted.

  “I died and you put me here!” I yell at them, dismounting. “I have a life, a family outside of this game! You can’t keep me here!”

  “Only some of what you just said is true, and only if we’re using the word I extremely loosely.” The monitor gazes down at me with his searing vision.

  “What do you mean?” I stare up defiantly. The machine taps its unseen chin with a square finger.

  “I suppose you’re ready for it. The truth. You know, every other one of your friends went completely mad after they learned it. If you turn out the same way, you won’t remember this conversation ever happened.” The monitor reaches into its robe and pulls out a hard drive. “This is you.”

  “I don’t understand” I take the hard drive from his hands.

  “Before you died, you agreed to certain terms. Ahem.” it pretends to clear its nonexistent throat. “The User irrevocably authorizes the company to use his or her likeness and/or name in any photograph, image, video, motion picture, performance, sound recording, or in any other media or format for any purpose, including but not limited to advertising, publicizing or marketing for the company, and to use and license others to use his or her Likeness for such purposes, without any compensation to the User.” It stops to check if I'm still listening. “In short, you agreed to let a company have you. That company sold you to another company, who sold you to yet another company, who sold you to Knuckleheads. the company that made this game.”

  “There’s a difference between my likeness and me!” I scream in its face, without really being able to see it under the hood.

  “Is there, though? You feed an algorithm your likes and dislikes, upload every photo and video of your life ever taken, input every single detail about yourself. What's the difference between everything anyone could know about you, and you?” It tips its head, still watching me. “Your browsing history fills in the gaps. Your deepest, darkest desires.”

  “My soul?” I try

  “EEEH, wrong.” It makes a sound like a game show buzzer. “There is no difference. you’re just a collection of details held on a storage device. Formerly your brain. now,” it points to the hard drive. “That.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Without thinking, I throw the hard drive to the ground. It shatters, spilling parts.

  “That was, like, metaphorical. No easy way out. You didn’t go crazy but you're still braindead.” It leans back to a straightened position. “Color me impressed, former meatbag. Your wife's name is Trinee Walton”

  “Trinee” I repeat. Memories rush back into me. Our first date. First kiss. The day I proposed. Our wedding. Finding out we’re expecting. The birth of our… “What's my daughter’s name?”

  “Not so fast hot-shot” it wags its retangular finger at me. “You’re lucky your brain didn’t turn to mush after learning the truth.” it pauses. “Not that you have a brain, you know what I mean.”

  “You're a bastard, you know that.” My paternal instincts kick in. “What did you do to Peter?”

  “Who me? Nada.” It crosses its arms. “He got booted when I crashed the server. Right before you told him our little secret. Be sure that doesn’t happen again, or there will be consequences.” It raises a hand to wave “Ta-ta for now.”

  Peter has logged on.

  “Woah” Peter says, appearing behind me. “It's been a long time since the servers crashed. I wonder what happened.” I don't respond to him. “Yo Earl, you good?”

  “Yeah” I say, finally. “Let's get this quest done.” I mount up and get moving. We pass the border of the Gormer forest, skirting the more dense tree line.

  The Beastlands discovered! Experience gained.

  You’ve reached level 35!

  Strength increased by 16%!

  Agility increased by 16%!

  Intelligence increased by 16%!

  While Peter continues talking about isakai animes, I invest the 8 talent points I have lying around. With Tornado Edge at maximum, I can move the area of damage around after it’s been cast, and if I have multiple weapons, I can cast it multiple times. Illusory Clone can now grab the attention of boss enemies, and like Tornado Edge, I could have a clone for each weapon I control. It’s a shame my shield doesn’t qualify, or any of the low-level loot I got and subsequently sold. The rare weapons I got from The Heap don’t meet the requirements either, not that I’d want to use crap-smeared garbage anyways. Sentient, Floating weapons only.

  “How do I get ahold of more sentient weapons?” I interrupt Peter in the middle of him explaining how he can tell if an anime has a sketchy view on women just by the cover art.

  “There’s a bunch of ways” Peter changes topics without missing a beat. “The final bosses of each expansion usually have one. Sometimes bosses from earlier dungeons also have one that can drop. There’s quests that come from dropped items, there's a few you can make with the right profession” he rattles off more ways than I can keep up with.

  “What's the earliest, easiest way I can get another?” I try to narrow down his answer

  “Honorlord’s axe at level seventy, I think.” He responds. “Low chance of it dropping though. And it’s apparently very evil.”

  “Very evil?” I ask, eyebrow raised.

  “Yeah, there’s this whole moral question of how much of the Honorlord’s actions were his own and how much was the axe’s influence. I think it’s a convenient excuse.” he shrugs

  “Alright. Guess I’ll cross my fingers and kill him as soon as I can.” I look ahead into the new territory we’ve entered. “So what's up with this place”

  “You’re not going to like it,” He grimaces. “The beastman’s leader’s kid is working with the humans.”

  “So he’s a traitor?” I ask, not understanding why I'd object to dealing with a traitor, even if I don’t hold any particular loyalty myself.

  “Yeah but like, he’s trying to mend fences and restore the forest. He's not doing anything bad.” Peter does not maintain eye contact with me while he explains.

  “Ah” I say, now understanding. “The humans are in the forest, and they care about it? When we passed through their territory they were gathering lumber just like the orcs. Maybe not in the same ecologically devastating way, I suppose.”

  “It's not the humans that care, it’s the elves. They are just aligned with the humans, so they’re also called humans. Like, the team. We’re The Civilization, they are The Humans.” he explains

  “That's unnecessarily confusing, and also, like, racist in a way?” I squinted at Peter, brows thoroughly furrowed.

  “Speciest” Peter corrects me. “All of the playable species evolved from different things, or are so far separated on the family tree that you couldn’t call them the same species. Like how homosapien and homoerectus are different species.”

  “Wouldn't that be genus, not species?” I wonder

  “I’m not sure. remember I’m not an A+ student in science class.” he shrugs.

  “You’re more knowledgeable than you give yourself credit for.” I tell him, watching him smile at the compliment. “So there’s humans, dwarves, and elves on the human team. Then on our side, there’s orcs and beastmen?”

  “Humans, Dwarves, Elves, and Halflings.” he says, counting on his fingers.

  “Halflings?” I ask.

  “Legally distinct Hobbits.” he laughs. “Like from Lord of The Rings.” That name rings a bell.

  “That's a movie right?” I ask, as Peter turns to me, aghast.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never watched them?” he exclaims.

  “I think so.” I don't know how to explain to him I barely remember what a movie is. I’m lucky I understood what a video game was, back when my fellow N.P.C.s told me I’m stuck in this one. I'm not sure if there's a pattern to what I can recall, or if there's a leak in the dam the Monitor built around my memories. We arrive at our destination before Peter can start on another topic.

  Golden Cat Outpost discovered. Experience gained.

  “Welcome” A werewolf in guard’s uniform says as we reach the front entrance to an archway entrance, made of two lush trees twisting together. “We are honored to have an orc visit our humble outpost.” he bows to me. He only nods at peter.

  “Thanks” I say, riding past him. I find the beastman to turn in the quest easily. The big gray question mark simplifies the search. He stands inside of a shelter, molded by trees like the archway, with a thick leaf canopy forming the green roof. In front of him is a table with a map and pieces depicting allies and adversaries. Clearly, this is a war room. A war with who, though?

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Hail” Says the tiger-man. Weretiger?

  Beastmen leader. Level 30

  “The leader of the beastmen isn't self-aware?” I turn to Peter

  “Nope. This early in the game, the developers felt it was too much for players to kill characters that seem alive. That changes later on.” Peter joins me in front of the leader.

  “So we kill this guy and his son?” I ask, right in front of the aforementioned N.P.C.

  “Yup. The Honorlord demands both of their heads.” Peter looks into the tiger-man’s eyes, void of the spark that separates them from us. It's like he’s already dead, and he doesn't know it yet.

  “Investigate the rumors of a traitor in our midst. return to me with proof.” The leader says. The quest updates to reflect our new goal.

  Optional: interrogate beastmen in Golden Cat Outpost.

  Optional: collect documentation proving the traitor’s guilt.

  “Lead the way” I tell Peter, not really interested in hunting down the right N.P.C. or pile of paper. Peter moves to a nearby structure, clearly the leader’s son’s domicile. A pile of bark with writing on it sits obviously on a wooden desk, tucked into a dark corner. We walk up to it, collect the proof, and mosey back to the leader.

  “My… son.” The leader whispers. Despite his quiet tone, an orc must have heard him. He crosses the room, arms behind his back.

  “Your son, and by extension, you, have betrayed us. As the Honorlord’s third son, I declare our alliance broken, and your lives forfeit.” the orc intones, with a manner of speech unlike any other orc I’ve heard. He sounds too… proper.

  Wurkul, Third Son of Honorlord Mergigoth Dragonslayer. Level ??

  “You,” He turns, addressing Peter and I. “will carry out their sentence. Execution.” I look to Peter, he nods his head grimly. This is a non-optional quest. Damn it.

  Slay Beastmen leader and Beastman Traitor 0/1

  Protect Beastmen Leader and Beastman Traitor 0/1

  As the quest update appears, the text shifts and sputters, as if it is erroring out. The word slay is replaced by protect. “What the heck?” Peter exclaims behind me. “That’s not how this quest goes.”

  “What do we do?” I ask. The energy in the room shifts, the gathered N.P.C.s eye each other, us, and the orc. Without warning, a minotaur charges, grappling the orc. The orc begins to shout, but is cut off by another beastman wrapping himself around him.

  “Flee!” The minotaur shouts. “Into the Faelands!”. The beastman leader and his son, suddenly appearing at his side, bolt out of the war room. Peter and I share a look, then follow after them.

  “What's happening?” I ask, following the beastmen.

  “I don’t know! This isn't how this is supposed to go. We kill them, then we invade the Faelands.” Peter says, jogging next to me. We keep pace behind the beastmen, down winding paths and through trees. We hear the roar of an orc behind us, and the rapid stomping of boots growing closer.

  “Just up ahead!” The beastmen leader tells us as the orc bursts into sight. He’s drenched in blood, massive axe in hand. He releases a battle cry, and charges straight for us. Before he catches us, we are led through a dungeon portal, barely escaping. The loading screen features a cute faerie, offering me a fruit. Behind her is a foggy forest, small glowing eyes barely visible deep inside. When we return to the game, Peter and I stand in a small clearing, completely surrounded by impenetrable fog.

  “Hi!” In Between blinks, a faerie appears in front of my face, uncomfortably close. “Can I have your name?” She smiles sweetly.

  Meadow Petalthorn. Level 30

  “Uh…” I begin, but Peter waves her away.

  “Don’t, it’s a trick. She takes your name and gives you a nasty debuff for the rest of the dungeon.” Peter glares at the little creature.

  “You’re no fun.” The faerie pouts. She snaps her fingers, disappearing in a puff of glitter, as the fog dissipates around us. Weeping willow trees are revealed, a sparse forest with shining dewdrops falling gently from the hanging branches, prey animals travel undisturbed from pond to pond, drinking deep the crystalline water.

  “Wow.” I say, taking it in. Compared to the warzone of a world outside, this is a paradise.

  “We’re supposed to kill that fairie. Then all of the animals, after they turn into enchanted monsters. None of them are hostile.” Peter remarks, taking a step down the shimmering path of dewey grass.

  “Did we get separated from the others?” I ask, looking for them. “Did the orc follow us in?”

  “Looks like it. This is the way to the boss. If the mobs aren't going to fight us we might as well go where we’re meant to.” He moves ahead, not waiting for me. We walk in silence, Peter guiding me through the dungeon as I take in the sights. A bird drops from a branch, gliding over the water just low enough to disturb the surface, but not enough to splash. If I didn't need to find a way out of this game, I’d stay here forever. “We’re here.”

  “Welcome adventurers” a towering women greets us. Fairy wings gently sway behind her back, a crown of silver rests upon her head. Dark blue eyes match the stones set in the crown, contrasting her glazed porcelain skin. It shimmers like the surface of the water, a subtle rainbow of color. She catches my gaze, and winks at me. I feel heat rush to my face as I turn to Peter for guidance.

  Pandora, Queen of the Fae. Level ??

  “Before the boss fight is a riddle. If we get enough questions right, it makes the fight super easy. if we don’t get any right she’ll stay level question mark question mark and one shot us.” Peter tells me, stepping into the expansive throne room I hadn't noticed we were in, too distracted by the queen. “What is your first question?”

  “Before we get started, an explanation of the rules.” The queen spreads her hands in a welcoming gesture.

  “Skip” Peter responds. The queen gives a look that if it could kill, he’d be reduced to dust and blown away instantly. The queen moves her gaze from him, staring straight ahead. She closes her eyes, and after a pause, her forehead begins to glow from the inside, as if her skull has been replaced by a flashlight, shining through the thin layer of skin in front of it. The skin bubbles in a perfect circle, blisters popping and smoking. The smell is awful, and Peter takes a few careful steps back as the change happens.

  Bloody, liquified skin oozes from her forehead, a hole now exposing a familiar red light. Oh no. Without another word, the queen snaps her fingers, and Wurkul appears in front of us in a cloud of glitter that settles over his form and onto the floor. He swings in a wide arch before we can react, cleaving both Peter and I in half.

  You died.

  Peter has been slain.

  My heart sinks as my body slumps to the floor. It's going to take forever to walk back here from the city. When I release, the loading screen is the same fae from the beginning of the dungeon. That’s odd. Did the Monitor change my spawn point while it possessed the fae queen?

  “Hold on.” Peter tells me as soon as we spawn at the dungeon entrance. His eyes go blank, he must be consulting the forums. I enjoy the scenery for what feels like half an hour, petting a deer and feeding it an apple. It is totally unafraid of me, bolting only when Peter jogs up behind me, spooking it. “My mom says she doesn't know what's going on but we should keep going, if for no other reason than to submit a bug report.”

  “What? Why does she want us to make a bug report?” I ask, standing up.

  “She’s one of the devs for Crossroads Online. I didn't get the chance to tell you when I got ganked earlier. My dad’s a lawyer for the company that makes the game.” He tells me, watching my jaw open wider and wider in shock.

  “Your mom made this game?” I ask

  “No, she’s one of the developers, part of a whole team. This game is way too big for one person to make.” He tells me.

  “I thought it was just the Monitor” I cross my arms.

  “There’s a team of monitors, too.” he shifts from one hoof to another.

  “There’s more than one of that robot jerk?” I feel the color drain from my face.

  “Robot?” No, that's a rumor. The monitors are a group of real people who keep an eye on the game, and make sure nobody is cheating.” He tells me. “Among other things.” We stare at each other, neither of us saying anything. I don't know what he’s thinking, but I know if I say anything else I'm entering dangerous territory.

  “Alright. lead the way” I follow Peter back to the palace, a large flower at the end of the path through the forest. The orc is gone, but the queen is still beaming her head-lamp gaze at us.

  “What is your first question?” Peter repeats how he started this encounter the first time with slightly less impatience.

  “Ready to listen, are we?” The queen smiles, the blood running down her face forms a toothy arrow with her mouth. “The new rules are as follows: for every question you get correct, Wurkul will drop by one level.”

  “What!” Peter exclaims. “He’s already higher than max level! Unless he’s dropped below seventy it doesn't matter. He’ll kill us.” the queen raises an eyebrow, a strange look with her eyes closed.

  “He’d have to be level seventy two for us to have a chance, and we’d have to get all three questions right.” Peter shakes his head. “Or seventy one, but I doubt that we’re that lucky.”

  “Should we just skip the questions?” The queen raises her right hand, fingers pressed together, ready to snap.

  “No.” Peter says curtly.

  “What is the forgotten hero’s name?” The queen raises three fingers, waiting.

  “You” Peter answers.

  “Very good.” The queen flashes a wicked grin, lowering one finger. Two to go.

  “Lore questions?” I ask Peter, remembering he knows the whole story of this game.

  “Yeah.” He nods. “Next question?”

  “When did humanity lay the foundation of their capital city?” The queen’s face is unreadable. There’s no indication that she’s asking trick questions, you’d have to know the real answer. Thankfully Peter does.

  “They didn’t. The orcs did. One hundred years before the humans discovered it.” Peter uses his hands while he’s speaking, making a gesture like he’s shooing away a pest.

  “Right again.” The queen’s grin widens, the corners of her mouth tear and bleed, adding two more lines to her bloodsoaked face. “Last question. Who lives at 5060 Palm way, Irvine California?”

  “That’s not a riddle” I say, noticing Peter go ghost-white.

  “I do.” he whispers, his hands limp at his sides. The queen does not give an affirmative, instead giggling, breaking into an exaggerated villain laugh. She continues cackling as she snaps her fingers, Wurkul appearing before us again.

  Wurkul, Second Son of Honorlord Mergigoth Dragonslayer. Level 69

  I don’t have the chance to tell Peter he was right before the mad orc is on us, swinging wildly. I move to block the blow, wincing as the axe bites deep into my shoulder, knocking my health down by over half. Even in this armor, the boss has the advantage somehow.

  “Run!” I tell Peter, retrieving my shield before the boss can send me back to the entrance. The shield thankfully absorbs much of the next blow, reducing the damage he deals to me greatly. That buys the time I need to cast my Distribute ability, preventing damage temporarily.

  With an unspoken command, Esquire hovers out of his sheath and behind Wurkul, I follow up with Telekinetic Taunt, forcing Wurkul’s attention to Esquire. The orc trades blows with the blade, Esquire takes no damage, but deals very little in return. I use Illusory Clone to keep his attention away from me while I find Peter. He’s curled up in a corner, with a thousand yard stare. I have to get very close to hear what he’s saying. “How does it know where I live?” he repeats like a mantra.

  “Hey,” I say, resting a hand on his shoulder. “It's just a video game character, right?” I lie. “A trickster fairy queen. Her whole deal is messing with your head, right?” Peter nods, looking up at me now. “Let’s wait here while Esquire deals with the boss, alright?”

  “That's it?” Peter asks. “Your abilities amount to you hiding from danger while your weapon handles it?”

  “I guess?” I respond, watching Esquire scratch at the orc, his health pool seemingly bottomless.

  “That sucks.” Peter laughs, moving on, or at least distracted from the disturbing question on his mind. “You should have picked warrior.”

  “Hey!” I say, mock-insulted. “They don’t seem to be making a dent in that monster’s life”

  “Maybe there’s a hidden mechanic to your abilities.” Peter scratches his patchy chin.

  “How so?” I look at my abilities, expecting something to change. Nothing does.

  “Think about it. A sword doesn’t know how to wield a sword just because it is one. Maybe if you show it how to swing, it will deal more damage. Pretend you’re the one fighting the boss from a distance?” Peter looks at me. “What?”

  “How’d you come up with that?” I ask, puzzled but impressed.

  “There’s a movie where a guy teaches a robot boxer how to box by showing him. I forget the name. There’s also a mech movie where the pilots have to act out the fight inside of their mech, not just pull levers and hit buttons. I think, maybe, your abilities could be more hands-on that how you’re using them.” He smiles. I nod, giving him the same impressed look I imagine his father would.

  “Good idea.” I step out from our hiding place, standing a short distance from the ongoing battle. “Esquire!”

  Sir?

  “Do what I do” I get into a sword fighting stance, at least how I picture one in my head. Feet apart, hands held one over the other in front. As the orc swings, I pantomime blocking his blow with the long edge of a blade, Esquire following my movements precisely, with no delay. I swing, knocking an imaginary axe away from my face and to the side, watching as my translucent purple clone holding Esquire sends the axe flying to its right and into the ground.

  We bring the sword down on his neck as the orc is distracted trying to pull his axe from the wood floor. He howls in pain, bringing the axe up and around to decapitate the clone. It passes through harmlessly, sending the orc wide and exposing his shoulder. We exploit the vulnerability, stabbing in and under his huge shoulder armor, piercing flesh.

  Another agonized howl passes his lips, as his left arm goes limp, dropping the axe. He stares up at the clone, and through it, at me. Without hesitation, we bring the edge down on his head.

  Wurkul, Third Son of Honorlord Mergigoth Dragonslayer slain! Experience gained.

  My vision floods with level up notifications. You’ve reached level 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, and…

  You’ve reached level 42!

  Strength increased by 32%!

  Agility increased by 32%!

  Intelligence increased by 32%!

  Dual Wielding unlocked!

  Peter has reached level 33!

  The change is so significant I can feel my muscles grow and my mind expand. It's an unnerving but welcome feeling. Beating a level sixty nine boss at level thirty five is worth a shit ton of experience! A quick peek at my stats shows one hundred eighty eighty percent strength, agility and intellect base. It’s hard to quantify, but I do feel one hundred eighty six percent stronger than I did at level one. I’m not a numbers guy so it doesn't mean anything to me, except I could tear the head off of a shark with my hands. I could outrun a cheetah. I could outthink a… really smart animal. like, really really smart.