TRANSCENDENCY ONLINE II: BATTLE ROYALE: A GameLit Survival Adventure (TRAON Book 2) Read online

  Transcendency

  Online II:

  Battle Royale

  By Lou Schreiber

  Copyright © 2022 Daedalus Media Publishing GmbH

  All rights reserved

  Cover art by Konrad Maciaszek

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter I: Arturo Sanderson Speaks

  Chapter 2: The Aftermath

  Chapter 3: The Storm Is Coming

  Chapter 4: The Reason Why We Fail

  Chapter 5: Old Friends

  Chapter 6: The Face of Evil

  Chapter 7: SemperFi

  Chapter 8: The Truth and the Truth

  Chapter 9: Probotis

  Chapter 10: Unlikely Friends and Final Results

  Chapter 11: I Need to Cry, but I Have No Eyes

  Chapter 12: Preparations for War

  Chapter 13: Traitors

  Chapter 14: Bridgehead Part I

  Chapter 15: Bridgehead Part II

  Chapter 16: Whistleblower

  Chapter 19: Goodbyes Are Hard

  Chapter 20: The Man in the Moon

  Chapter 21: The Silent Death of Friendship

  Chapter 22: Champions

  Chapter 23: Final Rites

  Chapter 24: Final Clues

  Chapter 25: The Devil’s Deal

  Chapter 26: Prelude to War

  Chapter 27: Combat Moon

  Chapter 28: The Dying

  Chapter 29: Game Over

  Chapter 30: Transcendency

  Chapter I: Arturo Sanderson Speaks

  Arturo Sanderson wore a suit. He only did that for live shows, and one could count the number of live shows the elusive billionaire had appeared in on one hand.

  Yet, he looked like a pro, and he smiled patiently as he was introduced as CEO of the biggest gaming company in the world after their recent release of Transcendency Online. Then he was praised as a technological innovator in the tradition of the great technological innovators of the early 21st century for introducing photorealistic graphics to Virtual Reality. When the moderator, a young, handsome man with a charming smile, was done and turned to him, his mind fully turned to the conversation. It was probably the most important interview of his career. He had to talk about the things that went wrong, and that was something he’d never had to do before.

  “Mr. Sanderson, the world is watching the live feeds of your game. It’s nothing new for eSports to be broadcasted, and there have been several games that border on drama and have been broadcast to a wider audience, yet you have reached new heights. The game has only been permitted about 20,000 players worldwide, right? Recently, you passed the mark of 300 million viewers on your platform, and we talk about people paying to watch this, so what is the secret of this success?”

  Arturo smiled. “Hello, Brad. First, let me say how much I appreciate you having me. Transcendency is less of a game in the classical sense. It wasn’t meant to be played by the masses but is targeted at professional players who have experience and can therefore keep up with the performance pressure of such a high-powered environment. As such, we designed it to be a battleground for the best of the best. For those who like watching games—which is a steadily growing viewership—this is the champion’s league of games. The Superbowl finale, as our American friends would put it. This seems to be rather syntactic to viewers, who have tuned in with rapidly increasing numbers. We are quite satisfied with the outcome so far.”

  “Well, the game’s presentation may play a role in this. Is it true the technology was developed by you with private funds?”

  “Actually, the whole game was. Yes, we offer a complete physics engine that simulates our world’s physics to a degree no other game before has dared to. Also, we have the first VR game that uses photorealistic graphics. The players move through that world as if it was real . . . and so do their enemies. We certainly believe this contributed to the success of Traon, as we call the game.”

  “Transcendency Online—as you mentioned, called Traon by fans now all over the world—is a rather brutal game at its core, though. It basically allows, and even encourages, players to kill each other,” the moderator said.

  “No, they shoot each other, and as it is a roguelike game, the penalty for getting shot is losing all equipment and falling back to Level 1. But players feel no pain other than the frustration of losing their hard-earned equipment. Nobody is killed, not even in a simulated way. All you do is lose the in-game advantages you played to gain.” He smiled. “But yes, the thrill is partially because it’s a brutal and merciless competition. Whoever is your favorite can fall back to square one at any moment. Considering much of the goal is a race to reach certain levels first, this is a meaningful part of the game.” Arturo crossed one leg over the other, and the moderator nodded.

  “After only a few days, you seem to be escalating things now. Recently, you declared some sort of finale, right?”

  “Exactly. We have recently announced Combat Moon. It’s a special instance for players who reach Level 80—a so-called battle royale to find out who is, indeed, the greatest of them all. It will be open to the first ten players on every server to reach Level 80. We have ten servers, so it will be a hundred players from all over the world competing for the first transcendence within the game.” Arturo nodded.

  “What is a battle royale, exactly?” the moderator asked.

  “So far, you can play the game’s storyline by fighting the invasion of the vile Reapers and level up as much as you want without ever shooting another player. A battle royale is different. It is a tournament of everybody against everybody, with only one winner. So, 99 of them will fall back to Level 1, and one will transcend. The best of our best, so to say.” Arturo smiled.

  “What is the reward?”

  “Except eternal glory, you mean? Access. Access to the part of the game which is currently in alpha. The true game.” Arturo smiled.

  “I assume viewership records are expected to be broken?”

  “Yes, we have already had more sign-ups for the final game than have ever been recorded for any virtual event. But the final game isn’t all. To get there, players must reach Level 80, and the fastest way to do so is by playing the new instance, Bridgehead, which is story-driven but with player vs. player capabilities. It opens later today, and we expect some of the hardest matches so far when that happens,” Arturo said.

  “What was the reasoning behind the rather quick escalation?” the moderator asked.

  “Entertainment value. We don’t plan to drag out the tournament.”

  “I see. So let us talk about recent events. I assume the reason you asked for this interview is to address what happened on the Europe 2 server,” the moderator said, leaning back and folding his hands.

  “Yes, indeed. Every game suffers from those who try to cheat. Regrettably, Traon is no longer an exception. We are still investigating the specific events, but we can say that one of our programmers entered the game under a false identity. He assumed the name of Ikarus and tried to attack and kill the current number one player on the server, M2X. He used his knowledge of the game to his advantage and apparently turned a safe zone into a PvP zone after taking all weapons from the player he wanted to shoot. I have to . . . I apologize for this event. Thanks to our community, our amazing community of players, he was stopped. All those rivals banded together to
stop him from manipulating the game.

  “Obviously, all damages done by him have been revoked, and we’ve ensured it was a one-time occurrence. Truth is, though, it breaks my heart that one of us has violated the sacred oath that we will provide a fair and just tournament in which every player has the same chance,” Arturo sighed. “I owe the players an apology, and I mean it when I say I will do everything—everything—in my power to keep anything like that from ever happening again.”

  “What measures have you taken to assure the players and hundreds of millions of watchers will see a fair finale in this first week?” the moderator asked.

  “We’ve checked and vetted all our employees and players, making sure there are no others. We’ve also included an AI—artificial intelligence—that is investigating the game in real time for any moderator privileges used in gaming situations. We will know if something like this ever starts happening again and will take the abusive player out of the game right away, banning him for life,” Arturo said, and the moderator nodded.

  “Europe 2 has become quite a unique server throughout these events, right? Players have refused to go up against each other until this case is investigated properly and fairness is assured.” The moderator laughed. “Peace in warfare must be frightening.”

  “You know what’s really frightening, Brad? The arrogance and ignorance with which our players are viewed by the world of so-called adults. Even now—ten years after eSports became a full-fledged industry, earning players and companies millions—they are still viewed as gamers, not athletes. But these young people have been remarkable. Though they are rivals, they organized themselves and put together rules to assure a fair game. Not one of them has violated these rules so far. You can see how these players are also a community, almost a brotherhood, driven by their common desire to play this game under fair conditions.

  “We will approach them soon and make assurances the game is safe. But I must say how impressed I am with the loyalty and stoic dedication to fairness they have shown. A war in which there is peace. You said that. It’s a competition where they’ve decided fair play is more important than gaining an advantage to win. I’m very proud of these young people.” The moderator nodded again as if he was moved by these words, and Arturo leaned back, seemingly more relaxed once everything was out in the open.

  “So, there are some people who say this kind of realism within a game might be harmful. Critics have voiced concern that with your technology, we might soon be able to create realities so convincing that they are hard to keep apart from our own. Do you think that’s a real danger?” the moderator asked.

  “I created this technology for gaming. Who will use it in the future, and for what purpose, I leave entirely to the wise leaders of our country and the world. I’m not planning to release any nongaming-related projects using this technology.” Arturo smiled.

  “But games as real as you and me right now? That could be potentially harmful if people cannot distinguish between games and reality, right?”

  “Yes, it could. To those who have problems with it. I mean, a typical person knows he’s not a soldier fighting aliens. I played this game extensively, and not once did I like it was real—only incredibly realistic.”

  “Are you any good?”

  “No, not at all. I suck. My son was pretty good, though.” Arturo laughed.

  “Is he playing right now?” the moderator asked, arching his brows.

  “No, that would be against the rules.”

  “Is he watching?”

  “Oh yes, he is watching. All the time.” Arturo gave the moderator a sad smile.

  “So now that you have this technology, what comes next? What can we expect from the future?” the moderator asked.

  “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Arturo said, a genuine grin crossing his face. “There are cutting edge technologies hidden within the game you will be . . . seeing soon.”

  Chapter 2: The Aftermath

  “Mixer! Mixer! Mixer! Mixer!” They applauded him as he made his way back to the large military compound that represented what players considered Safe Zone 2, a place where players couldn’t harm each other. Only players over Level 50 were allowed there, and he was surprised to see well over a hundred people.

  He laughed, raised his hands, and waved. “Thanks, guys! Thanks for having my back!” he answered and saw his friends standing nearby, applauding him.

  Anorma2032, or Ano for short, was his first and best friend over the previous few days. LadyAzazare was also there with DanskaDemon, the boy who was paralyzed and played the game over a chip. They smiled as he entered. Mixer, as M2X referred to himself, smiled back at them and then raised his hands again.

  “Listen, listen, everybody. No player versus player for three hours? No kills? No show? We can be proud of each other. Seriously. We took responsibility for part of this game in ways they obviously failed to. Now let us enjoy this time of peace because we all know tomorrow, we’ll probably be back at each other’s throats,” he said, and everybody laughed. “Yet not today. Today, we expect answers. I would throw a round of beer, but nobody here can taste anything, right? So, let’s just enjoy, have a good chat, and wait for what they do. Their move!” Everybody nodded.

  The Ravagers sat near the main administrative building, which was a grey tower raised high above the entire camp. Deadlock101, the traitor of his friend Jinx, leader of the guild, and the man who had helped save him recently sat there with AgentWhy, the player who had actually organized the little rebellion. Mixer went to greet them, and both men turned. They wore their black armor with guns at the back.

  “Thanks, man,” Mixer said and offered Agent his hand. The man, probably a teenager in reality, shook it.

  “Everybody hates a cheater, right? That bastard got what he deserved. Fancy moves there, by the way.” He winked.

  “Thanks.” Mixer turned and walked slowly back to his group, who always took a spot where they could see the large floating screen that showed the running games. No games were running at the moment, so they displayed replays of his fight with Ikarus.

  “Fancy armor,” Ano greeted him.

  “Yeah, one of his super-soldier NPCs left it. Fits perfectly, if you ask me. Also got their gun. Quite a good piece of hardware.” Mixer sighed.

  “That was a close one.” LadyAzazare smiled.

  “Yeah, it was. Who would’ve thought the Ravagers would one day save my butt?” Mixer laughed, and the others joined.

  “Yeah, I also think I’ll regret missing it for the rest of my life. I was having dinner with my mom.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “The peace thing makes things complicated. I mean, I’m Level 55. I need to level up to even have a chance of being among the first ten to make it to eighty.” Ano sighed.

  “So does everybody else,” LadyAzazare said. “We’re all stuck on fifty-plus now. We all need to push hard when the thing begins. Speaking of which, we need to organize. So, Mixer, will you finally use your popularity and create your own guild?” she asked. Mixer shook his head.

  “No, I’m afraid I’ve got technical problems with doing that.”

  “Still on a trimmed down version? Man, can’t you finally upgrade?” Ano asked.

  “That’s the problem. I can’t, I’m afraid,” he answered.

  The ugly truth was that he had none of those options in his menu because it probably wasn’t a true menu. For a second, he wondered if he should reveal the truth to his friends. Yet, he knew it would complicate things for everyone. Not only that, but he might also lose them, and they and the game were all he had because he was a part of it. Mixer wasn’t human and had no body or soul. Lines of code simulating a personality was what he was. A playtest module that wouldn’t go back to Level 1 and start anew when shot. No. He would cease to exist. The game was his world, and for him, the battle was a fight for survival—one that the very people who made the game tried to end by trying to murder him. How could he expect to last against them? br />
  He looked at the screen above. In his black armor with the dangerous-looking helmet, Mixer looked like one of the NPCs Ikarus had with him. Mean and confident in his moves and actions. He expected to stop existing any second, and he was surprised he hadn’t died yet.

  “Okay, maybe I should then?” LadyAzazare said. He looked at her and realized they were still discussing guilds.

  “Absolutely,” Ano said. DanskaDemon, who had been silent so far, nodded in agreement.

  “I’ll talk to a few of my guys,” she said and walked away.

  “I’m gonna restock,” Ano said. “Need ammo for when we start playing again.” Mixer nodded and watched him leave, too.

  “What did you play before this?” Danska said.

  “Nothing. It’s actually my first game.” Mixer smiled, and Danska laughed.

  “Where did you learn to fight like that? I mean, your moves are . . . badass.”

  “I have no idea. Just a natural, I guess.”

  “So has your problem been . . . solved? The logout thing?”

  “I didn’t realize I’d told you . . .” Mixer sighed.

  “I had a hunch. I mean, sometimes, at night, I log in and watch. And you know who’s always here and has been for days now? You, pal.” Danska sat next to him. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anybody. But you’re on some kind of drug, right?”

  “I don’t know, to be honest. But I’m working on it. Making progress actually,” Mixer answered.

  “Are you already hallucinating?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Three to four nights without sleep, and you start to hallucinate. Actually, the world record is eleven. Tonight will be what? Your fifth night? How do you do it, man? You never seem tired or burned out.”

  “Really? I feel burned out. I feel like all I’ve done for days was fight and watch others fight. I’m tired of fighting—except when I enter the fight. Then I feel this hunger, a need to survive, and I’m not sure why. It’s as if I’m another person.” He sat opposite Ano. “You’re fully immersed. So, how long can you stay logged in through the chip?”