Spacebound Chronicles

Chapter 1: Gather 'Round

“Gather ‘round noobs and noobettes!” echoed the voice of Lord Potathunder over the usual crowds of Winner’s City marketplace. That was the first city most new Fantasy Stars players visited and where high-levelers joined to chat, trade and show off to impressionable beginners. Potathunder was guilty of that very sin, as his shiny green robes and golden bard hat were loots from events that happened years ago, and his banjo, while not visually amazing, had more enchantments and cyber-boosts than any musical instrument in this planet. Still, despite him liking the reputation points, he wasn’t the one worthy of attention. Not all the attention, at least. Today he told another story…

“Yes, gather ‘round before you venture any further, to hear the singing of me, Lord Potathunder,” he proceeded, his fingers dancing over the cords that filled the air with a pleasant tune, “for I will tell you the story of Logan Spacebound; hero of the galaxy and inspiration for this sound! It is thanks to his deeds that we are all here today, for he saved the universe of this dear game we now play! So holster your gun and grab some ale, so that I can tell the story of the man behind the tale!”

***

Wake up. Snooze for five more minutes. No time for breakfast. Brush teeth. Put on a suit. No time to make it tidy. Take the subway. Read memes. Clock-in. Pick picture for advertisements. Make models look healthier. Prettier. Fitter. Fast food for lunch. Come back. Add text conveying health. Prettiness. Fitness. Clock-out. Take the subway. Noodles for dinner. Too tired to cook. Watch TV. Too tired to read or work out or go out. Crash on the couch. Wake up to shower. Shower. Shave. Go to bed.

Wake up. Snooze. Brush. Dress. Go. Read. Clock-in. Work. Eat. Work. Clock-out. Go back. Eat. Watch. Crash. Shower. Sleep.

Bed. Snooze. Bathroom. Wardrobe. Subway. Memes. Clock. Pictures. Healthy, pretty, fit. Fast food. Text. Clock. Subway. Noodles. TV. Couch. Shower. Shave. Bed.

Bed, snooze, brush, dress. Late. Meme, subway, meme, clock in. Image, text, image, lunch, text, image. Subway, TV, noodles, TV, too tired to shower. Couch.

Couch, snooze, deodorant, lots of deodorant. Subway, work, lunch, work, clock out.

Then Scott repeated.

“Hey, Scott, looking good!” Tony, who used to work across the corridor from Scott before being promoted, said as he clocked out himself. His stupid dark hair as shiny and combed up as ever. He was also as lying as ever, trying to be the nice guy in the office. There was no way that Scott could possibly be looking good after the last few days. “Are you coming with us?”

“What? Where?” Scott Williams asked.

“Happy hour! We’re celebrating Jane’s promotion,” Tony explained. Of course. Jane who was hired two months ago. Promoted before good old Scott, hired three years ago. Three long years.

“I… I’ll see, see if I’m up for it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? We’re going now!” Tony patted his shoulder. Scott hated shoulder pats.

“On a Thursday?”

Tony threw his head back in laughter.

“Thursday? It’s Friday, man! You c***k me up!”

Scott looked blankly at the clock-in machine. Friday? Already? Really? How?

“s**t, I must’ve missed some day this week,” Scott muttered

“No, you didn’t,” Tony was, of course, giggling. “I would know, I said good morning to you every single day this week. Now let’s head to the bar, shall we?”

“Tony, I don’t know…”

“Dude, dude,” Tony grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him so that they would face each other. “When was the last time you went out? You’re coming!”

“I’m tired…”

“Look, I bet you have an awesome life that we don’t know of, because you hate hanging out with us,” oh yeah, the most awesome life of cyclic misery and boredom. “But you have to get to know your coworkers, I’m the only guy you talk to and that’s only because we sat across from each other for months,” the difference being Tony moved to a better position. Scott didn’t.

“Tony, thanks for the invite, but I’m going to miss the train,” Scott turned away from his old colleague and called the elevator.

“Correction, little buddy,” another shoulder pat. “You already missed your train! See what I did? I stalled you! Now you have a whole hour of nothing to do, and I’m buying!”

Scott took a deep breath, the elevator opening to a mirror that reminded him of the effects of neglecting his shaving schedule. And his sleep schedule. He corrected his posture, pulling his hunched shoulders back a bit and straightening the worn-out jacket. Son of a b***h Tony tricked him right into the happy hour. Then again, that should not be something that needed tricking into.

“Alright, Tony, you win. But just until the next train,” he conceded, and both entered the elevator together.

Damn Tony.

***

Okay, Scott had to admit, it was not all that bad. Some people had cracked a couple jokes at the sight of him in a bar, but nothing to feel offended about. Tony lived up to his promise of buying, albeit only for the first couple rounds, and overall no one minded him being there, quiet or not. Apparently, they had a running joke about Scott being an undercover spy with a secret life to explain his absence from most office events.

Tyler from finances turned out to be quite a funny guy, which he would have never guessed from their elevator rides together every other Tuesday, and Scott’s manager, Mr. Moore, could really hold his liquor. As much as that surprised Scott, though, he avoided eye contact, even as the older man laughed his white beard off and chugged in one beer after the next, it just felt weird being this close to your intoxicated boss, especially as Scott himself got slightly lightheaded.

As everyone laughed about a comment by Tyler from finances directed towards Tyler from HR, Scott stood up and quietly slid away from the booth.

“Oh, look at him sneaking off to save the world again!” Tony said with a smile even wider than his ‘good morning’ one, which was saying a lot.

“I just need to go use the restroom,” Scott said, red as an apple as every pair of eyes ran to him.

“Okay, just don’t leave without saying bye. We can’t be that boring,” as Tyler ended that sentence, Scott was already halfway through the pub.

Also halfway through was when he realized his cheeks were sore. Not quite used to smiling for such a long time. Felt a little good. Mostly silly. He also realized he was smiling mid-urine, as he thought about one of the jokes Finances Tyler had told.

As he washed his hands, he started calculating. It had been forty minutes, quite enough. More than enough. He would have time for one more beer before leaving if he was to get the next train, but it would be tight. Better not risk it and just say bye and leave. But if he said bye Tony could end up delaying him again and…

“Scotty?” the gentleman in a well-cut suit, washing his hands beside Scott, spoke directly to him. He still looked around to be sure, but they were alone in the bathroom. “Dude, it’s Joey from high school!”

Scott frowned. Now he could see it, Joey’s features were indeed there, just bulkier, more adult and with way less pimples.

“Joey, of course! You’ve changed!”

“So have you!” just for worst, he probably meant. “How’re you?”

“Good, good,” Scott said, “got a job in advertising, things are… good.”

“Wait, you work Spot-Light?” Joey asked.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I know Tony and Jane! They come here every Friday! How come you never show up working right around the corner?”

“I… work a lot.”

Joey’s dark eyes pierced into Scott’s bloodshot brown gaze, and he squinted. Letting out a soft hum, Joey shook his head, then just walked past his old college buddy, rubbing shoulders, and headed back to the main area. “Come on!”

“Wait… what?” Scott asked following him out and through the growingly crowded barroom.

“I know you, Scott, better than any of your work buddies” Joey nodded towards the Spot-Light table. “I was with you when you took down the Dark King of Sky’Ard, I was with you when you raided the tomb of Lamessh, I was with you when you aced the Dragon Cup Run. Hell, I was the only reason you aced that crap!”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Scott asked, until they finally settled down on a pair of stools around a tall wooden table.

“You don’t have a social life because you nose dove into another game and can’t get out, and don’t you dare say otherwise,” Joey pointed a finger at his friend’s nose, then used the same finger to signal for a drink.

“What? No! I don’t have time for games! I haven’t gamed since they took down the Ruined Kingdom servers,” Scott fell silent, and so did Joey.

They did not need words to know they shared the same memory. The memory of the last time they heard each other’s voices as the timer ran out. Then the game that had started, supported and now ended their friendship was shut down for good. Silly game, simple graphics, and stupidly easy mechanics, but it had heart. And in it they had, each one of them, a friend.

“You know,” Joey broke the silence, ignoring the beer just delivered, “maybe your situation is worse than playing too much. You’re not playing at all.”

“That’s how it’s been since I graduated, and I’m cool with it!”

“You’re miserable!” Joey had, indeed, ignored his beer.

“I have a good job!”

“And eyebags.”

“I bought my own place…”

“Your nails are chewed to the bone.”

“And I have no time for bloody games!”

“You. Are. Going. Bald! And you are 25!”

Scott stroked his hair. A few strands coming loose on his palm. That did not mean anything.

Did it?

“Okay, what are you suggesting?” Scott was whispering and could not quite tell why. “You want to revive Ruined Kingdom? Pull all-nighters like we did when we had not a worry in our lives?”

“Oh, I am suggesting something way better than Ruined Kingdom,” Joey whispered too, “and just so you know, I still pull all-nighters now and then.”

“You… do?” Scott stuttered almost silently. It started feeling like they were actually trading state secrets or planning drug handouts. With his boss and coworkers just a few tables away, they just as well might.

“You might’ve heard of this… There is a game, MMORPG, the most immersive s**t you’ve ever experienced, I’ve been playing it for years!”

“I’m happy for you but-”

“Absolute freedom of choice,” Joey just kept talking.

“Listen, I’m too busy to-”

“So much freedom there are no linear quests past level 50, and we’re talking over two hundred levels!”

“Okay, how’s that even possible?” Scott crooked an eyebrow.

“Some people say there is a super AI, or even like a hundred AIs, that calculate each high-level player’s choice’s impact and apply those results to the world in real time. Others say they have a huge actor crew to take over key Non-Playable Characters and respond live to the players! I think it’s both… The fact is, the better you get, the more agency you have and you can literally reshape the whole bloody galaxy! It’s everything we always dreamed for Ruined Kingdom and more!”

Scott was breathing heavily, seated all the way back on his stool as if threatened by even thinking about it. “Right… This is crazy…”

“No, man, it’s not crazy!” Joey opened his arms. “It’s Fantasy Stars, and you’re gonna try it… right now!”