It's the middle of May 2023, but the weather is as hot as July, and it is in full bloom. The Sun lords above the clear blue skies with impunity, not allowing the slightest breeze in its domain.
The sound of cars moving about can be heard in the distance, though slightly muffled since the window to the balcony is firmly closed. The room is buffeted in cold winds courtesy of the A/C unit working overtime to ensure the apartment's tenant can enjoy his weekend.
But it's not just the weekend! No, no, no! It's much, much more! This Saturday marks the start of a two-week vacation after a full year and a half of working ten hours a day with no breaks, even for holidays.
The initial plan to kick back and play games for 15 days straight almost went to shit after the GPU crashed on his 8-year-old PC, but with a quick swipe of the card, the issue was quickly fixed (about a week or so ago), and now he was finally ready to relax.
[You're mad! Who takes two weeks off to play games, dude? How about going home instead? You haven't visited in over three years now. Gramps and Granny are not doing well... They might pass away soon.](?)
"Vic... I need this to relax before I pop a vein and go insane if I don't have time for myself! Almost two years, man! Straight working, no vacations, ten hours a day, barely had time even to get laid! I NEED this!"
['Barely'? In translation, you didn't get laid at all.](Vic)
"Coming from the guy with two kids, I don't think we should talk about our personal or sexual life..."
[Fuck off! DOTA2 or CS: GO?](Vic)
"Hmm... honestly, I've been considering preordering Diablo IV."
[Huh? Can your old unit even run it?](Vic)
"My GPU crashed about three weeks ago, and I ordered a newer model. I finally changed my fans, and it doesn't sound like a plane takes off every time I start a game."
[Expensive?](Vic)
"Much less than your PS5... However, I do need a new gaming chair as well... The old one doesn't help much with my posture anymore."
[Damn! I keep thinking about diapers and parts that need to be fixed on the car, and you keep spending money on games...](Vic)
"We all made our choices! Yours was not to pull out. Twice!"
[Piss off!](Vic)
"Will you buy it as well? It's on all platforms if I remember correctly."
[Probably. I need something to help me blow some steam as well. Though, I'm not sure I'll preorder it. You might want to wait until the free beta to try it out first.](Vic)
"Sounds like a good idea, but I want to try it before then. It's too long of a wait otherwise."
[You know the rules, Mike! No preorders!](Vic)
"Come on! It's Blizzard! They never screw up..."
[Does the word 'Immortal' ring any bells?](Vic)
"ALMOST, never screw up! I'm getting it either way."
[Fine. Let me know how it goes. Gonna wait until the next salary and try to convince the wifey that I NEED this game as well. Going to be an uphill battle though...](Vic)
"Hmm... good luck!"
[Screw you! Oh, shit! I have to buy the groceries for tonight's dinner. It's my turn today, and we're expecting guests.]
"Don't worry! I'll play in your honor. I'll make sure to enjoy every second of it!"
[Hope you choke on the purchase receipt!](Vic)
"Meh! It's an online one that you get through email. Not going to happen."
With the call and the banter over, Michael turned to the online website, checking the timer until the game became available. There were over two hours left, so he ordered some takeout, took a shower, and made sure to close his work phone. That way, he won't be annoyed by texts or calls that would ruin his immersion.
It's not like his job was difficult per se. He was a dispatcher for a trucking company in the States, and the pay was well above his country's average. Also, while he worked ten hours a day, the 'office' was a rented apartment two stories above his own.
As for the actual job, he only had to search and negotiate loads for his drivers, which was pretty easy given the contacts he scrounged up over the last four years. Therefore, while he might complain about how much work he had to put in, he spent more than 90% of the time reading online novels instead of doing something productive.
Nevertheless, working with people can burn your brain cells, and he quickly reached his mental limit. Therefore, he asked for two weeks' leave, not giving the option of saying 'no' to his boss.
"Sweet, sweet freedom! Hmm? $75!? Dear lord... Meh. I'll buy it!"
What followed was a download worth over 90GB, though his excellent internet connection burned through that amount of data in minutes.
"Oh!? Are the servers up and running? Let's see... character editor, huh? Wait, what's this?"
A weird option saying 'Upload personal data' was in the corner of the character editor, and he clicked on it out of curiosity.
"Hmm? Black screen... Is it one of those where a camera is needed to measure your face, heights, biometrics, and other crap? Did they add such an advanced feature? Eh!? Why is the room... spinning..."
An actual 'black screen' followed with him passing out. Then, there was a headache of massive proportions, making it feel as if his brain was dancing to bass-boosted house music, banging against his skull.
There was no light and barely any sense of self. What made things worse was that he couldn't sense his arms or legs or even feel a heartbeat in his chest area.
Feeling his mind plunging into panic, he couldn't help but remember his cousin cursing and warning him about preordering. To think that the consequences are THIS bad!? Though, what was THIS, to begin with?
There was darkness and just that. Maybe not 'just that,' as some light was beginning to peer through the void, followed by very muffled sounds. These sounds were... maybe footsteps? Though, they were pretty rushed for some reason.
First was the wind that could be heard whistling through something akin to buildings, as he could barely make what seemed to be wisps of light slowly heading towards him. Then, there were... bells? But not small ones, rather...
'Church bells?'
Then, the light slowly filled his entire view again, as he noticed a cross made of cement very close to his position. Through it, he could see towering mountains in the distance — at their base appeared to be a small town where church bells could barely be heard when straining one's ears.
Focusing on the bells and wind whistles beyond his will, he almost jumped out of his skin (if he still had one) as the sound of a door slamming shut scared the living lights out of him. It also drew his attention toward the small town once again.
It was as if he zoomed in suddenly, seeing the wind dancing eerily through the decrepit buildings. For some reason, the atmosphere felt heavy and oppressive, as this strange 'vision' he was having seemed to move further, preparing to tell a story.
[Blessed Akarat, thy eternal Light protects me...]
Suddenly, the whispers of a shuddering voice could be heard, though they sounded like whimpers more than anything else. The vision seemed to focus on the church in the distance, as the prayer could be heard cleaner and closer with each passing moment.
[...thy divine wisdom guides me. Though my path is wrought with darkness, guide my soul to thy sacred Light.]
It was indeed a prayer of sorts, though Michael couldn't figure out for the life of him why there would be someone praying in a dilapidated church in what seemed to be a ghost town.
The situation was getting stranger and stranger by the moment, as he felt that the shuddering voice of the person praying was filled with fear.
[Blessed Akarat, thy eternal Light protects me. Thy divine wisdom...]
[Shh! Quiet!]
[...though my path is wrought with...]
[Shut up!]
If Michael had a mouth, it would undoubtedly hang open. There wasn't just the crazy person praying inside, but it seemed as if at least two more people were accompanying him - though they didn't exactly share his religious enthusiasm. Furthermore, they appeared just as distressed as the praying person was, suspicious of their surroundings to the point where they didn't want the noise from the prayer to draw whatever was out there to their location.
The vision focused on the church even further, as it seemed to request entry to find the source of the voices. Judging by the dark interior of the building, which only had the opened door as a light source, it does seem that whatever action takes place inside, it wasn't for the faint of heart.
The benches on which no doubt once stood believers of this church were now just as rotten and dilapidated as the town itself, seemingly trying to fit perfectly with the rest of this bizarre location.
A hole in the middle of the floor, where usually a priest or pastor would stay and preach, could be seen spreading a very gloomy atmosphere throughout the rest of the building. Furthermore, screeching sounds could be vaguely heard from within.
Gulping in trepidation, Michael saw the vision zooming in on the dark hole in the ground, making the sounds within even louder. It was a combination of animalistic yelps, roars, and terrifying screeches.
It gave him the feeling of hundreds of beasts hunting for prey, and the following words of one of the people inside soon proved his theory correct.
[They have our scent. Run!]
Only those words echoed triumphantly above the roars, and the vision led him through the dark hole in the ground, throwing him into complete darkness once more.
Minutes passed, and finally, he noticed a dim light source entering the new location he was brought to. From above, four people were running desperately toward something... but he knew that at the same time, they were also trying to get away from whatever was behind them.
It didn't take long to notice the strange drawings on the floor, which no doubt looked demonic to the gamer inside his heart. He played enough horror games to know that whatever was on that floor was part of some strange ritualistic crap he wanted no part of.
The four people kept running with torches in their hands... that's right! Torches! And not the technological kind, but rather what seemed to be wooden sticks with their heads wrapped in cloth and made damp with some weird liquid, then lit up.
They were running as if the devil himself was chasing them, with the sounds of a stampede following right behind.
It allowed him to take a good look at the four people for the first time. In the lead was a middle-aged Caucasian male with a cloth covering his right eye, no doubt a wound gained while 'interacting' with whatever was chasing after them. He was more or less carrying a second person who seemed much younger—through the whimpering voice, Michael recognized him as the praying man.
From his garbs, he seemed clerical in nature, a monk of sorts no doubt, which appeared to be of African descent based on the dark shade of his skin. Furthermore, the priest seemed quite battered, his right hand putting pressure over a bleeding wound on his abdomen.
[Leave him!]
I was shocked to hear a third person proposing such a brutal measure given whatever was following this small group, though I could understand it from a practical point of view. The Monk looked like he had 10HP left and was afflicted with a 'Bleeding' status.
It didn't seem likely for him to make it out alive. Maybe if there was a hospital nearby, though, judging from the dilapidated buildings of this town and the fact that these people carried torches instead of flashlights, Michael somehow doubted the technological advancement of whatever establishments were nearby.
'I wonder what world this is taking place in. It's an illusion, vision, or memory, maybe, but it is most certainly not taking place anywhere on Earth. Just their clothes are sufficient to prove that, and the fact that there's a black person in their group who is decently treated by the rest. From their garbs, I can infer that this could be the early 15th Century.
Furthermore, this person is also involved with religion, meaning that it can't be set in the early 1600s or earlier on Earth either, since they were pretty... racist back then. Also, my gamer instincts SCREAM that they are adventurers since they carry cold weapons in such a weird place.'
The middle-aged man supporting the young priest sighed momentarily and turned to the wounded man, ignoring the dreadful proposal.
[Just. Keep. Running!]
The fourth bloke bringing up the rear was absolutely massive. If Michael could think of someone with a similar build, it was, surprisingly enough, one of the drivers at the company he was working with.
That man was a Russian who left for the States during the Cold War, and the guy was easily over 2 meters tall and probably over 130 kg of pure muscle.
This fourth person quickly passed the trio and was now stopped alongside the third guy, who was adamant about leaving the young Monk behind. The bulky dude seemed to have a weird cuirass strapped on his chest and a goddamn axe in his right hand.
If watching streams of people playing Dungeons & Dragons taught him anything, then, judging by the party's composition, the Monk was similar to a healer, the guy carrying him was probably a sword/shield warrior, the heartless guy advocating for utilitarianism was a Rogue, and finally, the bulky dude might've been a Tank/Barbarian of sorts.
The tank and the Rogue didn't look pleased with the Warrior's decision to bring the wounded Monk along, though...
[Are you out of your mind!? He's not going to make it!](Rogue)
The Rogue seemed to yell at the Warrior while trying to talk some sense into him, but all he got in return was a shove from the man's empty hand as he kept carrying the Monk.
[He has to!](Warrior)
[Blessed Akarat, thy eternal Light protects me. Thy divine wisdom guides me...](Monk)
The Monk seemed anything but okay, though. Judging from the little medical knowledge Michael had, he probably lost too much blood and was delirious at this point already.
His running around was quite the wonder, judging from his gaping wound. Also, he had watched them running for over fifteen minutes straight now.
'I get the whole 'potential squeezed out through the fear of death' crap, but this is very unscientific! Look at the poor guy. His hands are red with his blood, for heaven's sake! And most of it, it's flowing through the gaps of his fingers.'
[Hey. Look at me!](Warrior)
The Warrior's shout brought Michael and the Monk out of their thoughts, making them focus on the speaker.
[All the gold we want... is right there.](Warrior)
Oof... so it WAS a treasure hunt of sorts. Though, not without any dangers, obviously. Michael assumed traps or something similar injured the Monk.
The Warrior grabbed the wounded man's right hand and placed it firmly back on the wound to keep pressure on it.
Judging from the lack of pain response, that guy wasn't long for this world.
[No... I... I-I just came here for... knowledge.](Monk)
'Mhm, I see! Three treasure hunters and a scholarly priest, each drawn here by their desires. What was that Chinese proverb... 'Birds die for food, while men die for wealth'? Though, wealth held different meanings for each of them.'
The poor Monk barely managed to squeeze the words, followed by a coughing fit that emptied even more of his already little amounts of blood left in him.
[They're coming!](Rogue)
The Rogue seemed to have detected the pursuers that were already hot on their trails, but the Warrior focused on the delirious Monk only.
[I know...](Warrior)
[Get over here! Hurry!](Rogue)
[...Now, breach the seal. Get us through that door!](Warrior)
Almost yelling the last words, the Warrior pushed himself to his feet and headed towards the back, prepared to meet whatever was chasing after them in combat.
The heroic gait of the Warrior seemed to have somehow empowered the Monk as he gathered whatever strength he didn't know he had left, raised unsteadily to his feet, and wobbled towards the seal mentioned earlier. It looked like a massive slab of stone blocking their passage, more than a seal, though.
At the back, the three men stood ready, weapons drawn, prepared to buy as much time as needed for the Monk to finish his job.
The latter reached the wall and placed his right hand on it as a crutch so he wouldn't topple over.
[Oh, Light! Help me...](Monk)
The dim light given by the torch was barely enough to stop the enshrouding darkness blocking his vision, yet it was sufficient to reveal the hidden words carved on tablets embedded in the stone slab masquerading as a door.
The 'door' itself exuded an ancient and foreboding feeling, but the barely conscious Monk couldn't yet feel it.
['B-b-by three they come.'](Monk)
Almost as if his words were the signal, the screeches and roars got even louder, obviously closing in on the group.
The Monk did his best to focus on the words, using his fingers to read them more than his blurry vision.
['By three thy way opens.'](Monk)
Michael barely heard the Monk's words as he was left speechless and terrified when noticing the humanoid creatures in pursuit of the group. When the torches shed some light on them, he could see some disgusting beings running on all fours rather than using just their legs.
There seemed to be no hair on them; their skin looked sickly wet and red, pouncing on the defending trio like rabid beasts would. Michael could feel his soul trembling when noticing that they looked not a centimeter taller than middle-school kids, yet their numbers seemed endless.
['By three thy way opens'... 'blood shows'... This doesn't make any sense!](Monk)
The vision forced Michael to focus back on the Monk, who was deciphering what seemed to be a riddle more than a way to open the door.
As the poor, wounded clergyman was reeling from incomprehension, the strange sound of blood dropping on the ground from his wounds drew his attention to the floor, even amidst the chaotic battle.
There, Michael noticed another unscientific phenomenon: tiny droplets of blood moved on the floor in the sculpted grooves on the ground like rivers flowing down from mountaintops.
However, the ground looked as flat as they come, and the blood was VERY little in dosage, as the Monk lost most of it on their way here.
The grooves revealed by the torch took the form of hands, forcing a 'Eureka' moment in the eyes of the Monk while he watched the blood flowing inside them.
[Bood... blood is the... key... Blood... Blood is the key!](Monk)