"๐ช๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐." (๐ฐ ๐๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฐ ๐๐.) - ๐น๐๐๐ ๐ซ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
Raiden knew something was wrong, even before he entered the game world.
Waking to existence, he stared at his palms, coiling his fingers to shake off the numb sensation. Turning to his surroundings, his eyes widened. Before him, bustling and strolling and mingling, was a dreamlike and extravagant fantasy crowd.
He squinted. In every direction, vibrant characters of various fantasy races could be seen, each clad with outlandish garments and weapons. Virtual name tags popped up as his eye focused at them in random. Social talk and leisure laughs buzzed in the air.
Is this really a game?
Whirling around, he noticed he was standing on the hub of some fantastical town plaza. Within an arm's reach was a tall, impressive amber crystal wrapped in granite. Several players dismounted from winged pigs, while some avatars materialized from within the lodestone.
Some spawn point?
He took another look around, and leaned on the amber crystal, feeling the cool touch of stone.
Just what exactly was he experiencing right now?
It was all too surreal, all too hyperrealistic.
Even his senses worked spectacularly. The flash of sun against his eye, the cornucopia of spices through his nose, the brush of wind across his clothes, and the prickle of morning heat on his skin. His canid ears twitched, picking up the discordant murmurs of crowds, and the sounds of a thousand footsteps. With enough effort, he found out he could even amplify some of his senses, thanks to the wolfish traits of his chosen race.
Raiden picked up the players coming behind him before one spoke. He turned around to see a burly player, with the name tag, Gideon. The man's race seemed to have no difference to a typical human. He was accompanied by two other members.
More floating details appeared as Raiden focused on him:
๐ณ๐๐6 ๐ฎ๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐ท๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฏ๐๐๐
๐ช๐๐๐ ๐ฎ๐๐ ๐๐
๐ฏ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐
๐ญ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐จ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐
"Hey," the haman said.
Raiden glanced at the party of three adventurers. The one who spoke, a burly haman, was the leader. Beside him was what seemed to be a fennica cleric and a haman swordsman. Both of them greeted Raiden with a polite smile.
"How about joining us?" The burly, axe-wielding leader extended a welcoming hand. "We need a rogue."
Raiden paused. "Nope, sorry."
"Good!" The axe-wielder suddenly creased his forehead. "Wait, what did you say?"
"I said no."
Rubbing his chin, the leader contemplated by himself. "I should be able to recruit him...A bug, perhaps?"
On the corner of his eye, Raiden saw another player wave at his respective companion, click on some floating menu, and disappear into voxels.
Did someone just logged out?
Snapping his finger, he opened his menu and checked the interface. There was no such option at all.
Raiden turned to the leader. "How do you logout?"
The axe-wielding haman stared at him. After a second, he gave a hearty laugh. His two companions chuckled alongside.
"You're a funny one," the burly haman said. "NPCs don't logout!"
Raiden stepped back. "What do you mean, NPC?"
"Non Player Character!"
"I know what it means," Raiden said. "I mean, I'm not a bot or AI. I'm a player."
The burly leader gave another chuckle, and jabbed a finger above him. "You're an NPC! AI, Bot, whatever. That's why you have that circle indicator above you."
Looking overhead, he indeed saw a floating green orb. A dreadful feeling crept inside him.
"Players like me have these arrow indicators," the burly haman gestured to an upside down pyramid icon above him. "My companions," he motioned to his two party members, "on the other hand, are NPCs like you. Is that right?"
The fennica cleric nodded, while the haman swordsman smiled.
"Yeah, you're an NPC," the swordsman bot said. "Just like me and Molsie!"
Raiden froze. He was a damn NPC? An artificial intelligence? A bot? That can't be...he is real, and he has a life outside the game.
He is a humanโa real, living, breathing person!
Just what in the hell was happening?