Not What I Paid For, Gimme Refund

<<Floor 1, Day 1>>

Okay.

DId I expect him to say that? Among other countless hypothetical answers I thought he would say, that one there ranked in the top ten. Panic? Worry? Scared? I felt none of that. How could I? All I am now is a very confused guy staring at a very confusing man. And even then I couldn't establish what he just said.

"Say that again."

"You heard me."

"Say it, damn it."

"In roughly two hours, I will be trapping all 45,967 players in this server."

I exhaled the biggest breath I could ever have exhaled in my life.

"I really had hoped you just misspoke earlier."

There was almost a genuine remorse, almost, when he spoke again, "Sorry."

Denial was a fine shield. Throughout life I found that I would use it in times of tense matches. It wasn't really something to brag about, but it was a shield that kept me saner than most, and protected my pride in times of need.

It was lag man, come on, y'know that's bullshit.

I had to yawn alright? I couldn't see just now.

Oh so sorry, I fat fingered alt+f4, we'll play another time.

Looks like there's another one to add to the list.

"You're joking, right? How'd ya expect me to believe something like that?"

"You don't have to really. I ain't forcing you. If it makes you feel any better, I'm staying here too."

It really doesn't.

'Let me guess, you're gonna be the last boss on the hundredth floor?"

He gave a hearty chuckle. He does that a lot. An innocent carefree laugh... it's almost as if he isn't about to commit a crime against humanity.

"I see you've been keeping up with the classics." He said, smiling slight, "good on you."

"You know, I kinda get your whole gimmick with this title is to replicate SAO." I stood up from the grass, leveling with his gaze, "But you're going way over beyond literal now."

The over-encumbering piece of equipment made its presence more apparent as my muscles strained under its heft. My eyes fell to it.

"Why the sword?"

"Beat me and you win, right? That's how it usually goes." He walked closer and unsheathed his own. "Weapons like these ones, developer items, I made it so only they can actually harm me. Regular weapons just won't cut it."

"You mean there's more?"

"C'mon Sora, you don't actually expect to kill me by yourself? I'm a raid boss here. I have standards to maintain."

Shields do break, eventually.

It did now.

Kill.

Never has a word echoed so profoundly in my mind. I say it every day, I say it in the morning, in the evening, night. With a smile, with an agitated frown, it felt weightless, so easy. I've trivialized it, spouted it millions of times, so why does it affect me now?

Do you know what's amusing? If you had told me a couple of hours ago that playing this game would have been a very bad time, I'd have been very skeptical and would have laughed - probably tell you to piss off while I'm at it. Now, I'm not so sure what to think. All I wanted was to farm piggies, to sell these drops, to level up and to have fun.

From afar surely this all looked typical. Two dudes chilling in a meadow, standing around with their swords out, having fun. With context, it became all the more sinister.

"So what's stopping me from defeating you now, right here?" I asked the boy before me.

Simple and plain, flimsy and feeble, him and I both. But only he was smiling as our sword pressed firm in our grips.

Panic? It's flooding my system every second.

Worry? It's all I was right then.

Scared? Obviously, yes. Who wouldn't be?

"Nothing." He said.

Angry? You bet your ass I was.

Impulsive, frantic, mad. Either or all could be used as a reason for charging forward. In the fleeting moments before contact, I braced. Past its criteria, past the struggle and the strain - despite my levels, my stats. I swung the sword.

A ferocious spark burst out the two jagged edges, the initial impact as swords clashed resulted in a deafening clangor echoing far. The force sent shockwaves reverberating through my arms. Convulsing, shaking, under the sheer might. I felt my legs give, and I hunched slightly.

Constricted breath, tightened muscles, every ounce of effort just to maintain this posture.

Beyond the crossed blades, showed just the opposite. The sword effortlessly in his grasp, standing lax, almost comically, he scoffed.

"You didn't think that was actually going to work, did you?"

"Worth... a... shot."

A winded breath tumbled everything down, the sword, my efforts, and myself to my knees, heaving frantically for air. His boots were mere inches from my face. Was he going to step on me now, make me grovel and plead as he towered above?

Or would he, instead, holster his weapon, sit back down, stare at me, and place a hand on my shoulder?

I gotta admit, I did not expect the latter.

"Maybe another time, yeah?" He said as if resolving a mere civil dispute.

I brushed that virtual hand off me. "Two hours, right? Then I'll just log out right now. I don't have to beat you."

"That's also an option."

As I stood back up, so did he. And I met his gaze once more, never once a hint of malice harboring beneath, still so aloof, so casual.

"You're not gonna stop me?" I asked.

He met my question with a bemused smirk, "No, why would I?"

Honestly, after hearing that, I began to question my own sanity.

"Trapping people don't usually begin with letting them escape," I said, still in disbelief.

"Nope, doesn't matter to me." He said, and raised his hands to his sides, "Go, I won't stop you."

Another nightly breeze drifted the ambiance to silence. A single arm rose up, slowly, inching to the open air. Fingers clasped in a closed fist, exempting two, the ones required for the one specific action, outstretched and still.

My eyes flickered to his once more, and he nudged forward, affirming his doubtful claim.

This better work...

I swiped downwards, hastily.

A chimed sounded out and the menu screen instantly materialized before me. It's murky white incandescent glow, almost angelic, conformed in a small rectangular box teeming with black texts and borders. But as much as I would like to more appreciate such a perfect replica, I had something much more important on the mind.

Flicking upwards, scrolling downwards. Combing every single option with the slightest glance, I sought and I scoured till my heart leaped to my throat once I've reached the bottom catalogue. There it was, all the way at the end.

Logout

One word. Six letters. Enough to stir me with such a flood of emotions. The only other word that could do that is "Cancel", and that depended on the context. Relief, happiness, whatever other words that can describe joy, all of that, I'm feeling right here.

I reached for it, knowing in solace it'll be all over soon, that I could go back, put this all behind me and move on to something else. Probably never play another VRMMO in my life. I was close to it, so close - but he had to talk.

"Forty-five thousand is a lot of players."

I stalled my movement and looked back at him, and saw, finally, shadowed by the glow of the menu screen, underneath his blackened eyes, evil lurking within them.

"That's a lot of families, don't you think?"

If that was a flood of emotions before, it couldn't compare anymore, it absolutely paled to the absolute whirlwind of one single feeling.

It's none of my business, it's not my problem - but it was there. It's out of my hands, I won't be able to handle it, I tell myself over and over again but goddamn, it was still there. All because of him. Now I'm pissed.

"Don't. Don't do that." I said.

He merely frowned. "Do what?"

"Find someone else. Talk to someone else. Not me."

"There is no one else, there's only you, Sora." He said, walking a circle all around, "Just think. How many people can you save in just a short two hours?"

The logout button pulsed faintly a dim glimmer, standing by, waiting.

"They won't believe me. Who the hell would believe something like this?"

Another hand fell on my shoulder, he patted. "Then I guess you'll just have to do your best."

It was that feeling that rooted me still, kept faltering mended resolves to leave, had me staring eternally at my freedom, but never reaching for it. Why? Why am I feeling it? I don't get it. It's not my fault.

The feeling must have spilled to the exterior perhaps, for he stepped back, and kept a distance.

"You don't have to, you know. It's just a choice. Your choice." He said, turning and walking away. "In the end, I have no say in what you choose do. But I do hope I see you again."

No matter how I reasoned or thought of the consequences, it was futile. The pathway to town laid just meters away. A long, long walk back. Yet just how long would I take? Would I make it? What if no one believed me? What if I lost track of time? What if I couldn't logout myself?

Yet no amounts of "Ifs" could overrule the guilt if I didn't do a thing.

Guilt. It was consuming me. It was unjust, I didn't deserve this feeling, this responsibility. No apparent reason, it was just there. And guilt begets anger, anger begets frustration.

Frustration turned my eyes to his ambling figure. There he went, abandoning me in this cesspool of morality. What an ass.

I shouted.

"You call yourself a developer?! No developer would ever do this! You're just trash! Absolute shit, you hear me?! You fuck!"

He stopped and spun back. I took one last glance at him, his simple demeanor, his carefree attitude... I saw his smile, widening, as it vanished, as he vanished, dissipating into literal thin air, with one last statement resounding the vicinity.

"Who said I was a developer?"