I stared at my monitor and a wave of discontent washed over me as I looked at the leaderboards.
Twenty levels ahead of second place, every skill tree maxed out, and almost every mythical piece of equipment in the game.
"Just that fucking orb," I muttered to myself as I looked at the game's item index. The Orb of Moxus was the only thing greyed out, and rows of question marks sat beside it. "Limited-time bullshit."
I clicked off of the index and returned to farming, which I could do without even touching a key with the help of Auto-Battle. It was common for high-ranking players to put several hours a day in without playing at all, but I enjoyed exploring the works built by the developers.
I got up from my seat and stretched, the three-hour stint finally catching up with me as I waddled out of my room and down the hallway. I peeked into my mother's room and bit my lip as I was greeted by nothing but emptiness.
"What was I expecting?" I asked myself with a venom most don't have against themselves. I got into the kitchen and opened the fridge, reaching for a packet of cold ham that was opened. I laughed at myself as I lifted three pieces out and folded them into my mouth.
I ate them as I looked around the kitchen. It was clean, but not through any effort. A room can't have clutter and mess when you don't enter it more than once a day. It was a blessing that my bedroom didn't have. The paper bags from ordering food and necessities online were scattered around in there like particles of dust.
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket as I put another piece of ham in my mouth. I grabbed it from my pocket and looked at who was calling me for a moment, then answered.
"Hey, dad," I said as I placed the packet back in the fridge and closed it. He stayed quiet for a moment, until I spoke again. "Dad?"
"Roslyn, Roslyn!" he shouted on the other end, though he wasn't close to the microphone. I sighed as I realised what had happened, and stayed quiet as I listened to the two voices on the other end speak to each other. "It's not letting me-"
"You're on the phone to someone, dad," Roslyn replied as there was rustling, then her voice spoke directly into my ear- one I hadn't heard for some time. "Hello? Sorry about that, my father ha-"
"It's me, Ros," I cut her off, and a silence fell over the call. It went on for an uncomfortably long time as I looked at my feet, a pang of guilt in my chest as I felt her glare at my name on the screen. "He phoned me."
"I'm sure he did, Spencer," she said, her judgemental tone laid bare. "But you still answered. We've been over this, haven't we?" she asked as she shushed our father's question in the background. "Even if he calls, texts, mails, even if he comes to your door what do you do?"
"Ignore it," I answered, ignoring the tears in my throat as I stared at my feet. Roslyn huffed on the other side, and a moment passed. I expected her to hang up, but she tutted and the microphone rustled once more.
"Hello? Who's this?" my dad asked from the other side. A small, sad smile crept onto my face as I heard his voice. "Hello?" I wiped a small teardrop from the corner of my eye before replying.
"Hey dad, it's Spencer," I told him, and I heard him pull the phone away as he asked Roslyn who I was.
"Oh, i'm sorry. I think you have the wrong person. I've only got a daughter," he told me, and my soul crushed again. Dementia was a cruel thing. "Do I know you?"
"Ah," the words caught in my throat as I heard him ask more and more questions. The phone was snatched from him one last time, and a smug, hateful voice spoke to me once more.
"See? He doesn't have a son. I don't have a brother. Not any more. Fuck off, Spencer," Roslyn warned me, and the phone hung up with three beeps.
I held it to my ear, even then. I couldn't take it away, for some reason. Why did I care about this phone call? We had spoken a few times, and every time it ended like that, but something about it. It just made me feel…
I slid down the cupboard door and my butt collided with the floor, and I sat there. How long for? I don't know. Doing what? Staring at the floor with a blank mind, thinking about what went wrong over and over and over again.
It was my phone ringing once more that caught my attention. I glanced at the clock and laughed at myself as I realised I had been sat on the kitchen floor for four hours, then answered the phone.
"Spencer?" a stern voice asked from the other side. I let out a heavy, yet silent sigh as he continued. "I hope I didn't wake you. You know I hate to ask this, knowing your current situation and everything, but would you be able to cover Susan tomorrow?"
"Uh…" I hummed quietly as I looked at the time again. '03:32' sat in the top left of my phone, letting me know that I would be running on four hours of sleep if it was an early start. "Is it a-"
"A nine-to-five shift, yes. I just got the call from her myself. She's in the hospital, some stomach bug that had been pestering her all day," he told me, slightly dismissive of her health issues. "I know it's a big request. You'd be allowed to return to your leave afterwards, if necessary, but as you know the company is facing a hard time just now, so you would only be paid the normal rate…"
His false apologetic tone irked me beyond belief, but I knew that Mark wasn't the type of boss to compromise- nor did he like getting told no.
"Sure. See you at nine," I replied, trying my best to hide the tired ache in my voice, but failing drastically.
"Thanks, and I hate to overstep, but being back could be good for you. Perhaps if tomorrow goes well you could be back earlier?" he asked, but it was moreso an order. Those in power always seemed a little heartless in my experience. I seemed to have a knack for attracting trouble from them, though. "See you at nine. Get some sleep, you sound like you need it."
He hung up. Just like that. Conversation done.
I was alone once more in my kitchen, but now I had a reason to leave it and return to my hovel. I waddled down the hall and into my room, and reached for the power button on my desktop, but was stopped when I noticed a message on my screen.
'The Lost God Moxus has finally arisen from his slumber.
He has noticed false warriors in a replication of Aralia, and although he has no respect for those who force their proxies to do their bidding, he has taken note of a few outstanding candidates.
He has invited these few chosen candidates to become real warriors, to roam Aralia themselves instead of controlling puppets.
Due to this request being an immense ask, each candidate will be granted one wish if they accept.
Will you accept the Lost God's invitation?
Accept / Decline'
"What the fuck?" I whispered to myself as I rubbed my eyes. I reread the notification, and thought about what it could be, then looked to the server chat in the bottom left.
'Anyone else get the offer from Moxus?'
'No, what'd it say?'
'Me neither.'
'I got it.'
'Nothing in my mail or anything.'
I clicked on the first person to bring it up and looked at their profile. The only healer in the Top 50 of the global leaderboards- WalkingPotion.
I sent them a private message, asking about what their notification said, and let them know I had received the same thing.
The chat was in turmoil, but I managed to sift out four others who had claimed they had gotten the same thing, practically copy-pasting my message to Potion to the rest of them.
I pondered it for a minute, and that only gave way to uncertainty. "False warriors… replication of Aralia… force their proxies to do their bidding… granted one wish upon accepting," I whispered to myself. It was the 'real warriors' part of the message that caught my attention.
Whether it was my affinity for fantasy stories or my escapism bursting forth I couldn't tell, but butterflies began fluttering in my stomach as I approached the most illogical conclusion.
Just as I had finalised the theory in my mind, I noticed I had gotten some replies to my message.
Potion had replied first, saying: 'Yeah, it's still on my screen. I'm kinda pissed cause I was about to beat Morgahorr solo then it popped up and I need to go through it again. It's about Moxus wanting real warriors or something, so I don't know what to do. Might be a VR version announcement? Asking the most famous players to test it out first and give feedback?'
I nodded along to his message and laughed as I read his conclusion. I laughed not at him, but at myself. Of course.
"Fucking idiot," I scolded myself playfully as I opened the second message in my inbox. I noticed he didn't have a number beside his name, and my eyebrows rose in surprise.
EaselWeasel. He had chosen the artist class, so it was no surprise he wasn't ranked, but I ignored that and read his message.
'Hey Moonshine' he started, using my in-game name. 'Quite cool to get a message from the #1 ranked haha. The message was about Moxus wanting real warriors. Replicated Aralia, and granting a wish. Sounds like an isekai, right?'
I smiled at the message and nodded in agreement, not that they could see that. I moved on from the message with a small sense of shy pride at his compliment.
The third message was from a player I had actually spoken to outside of the game, her real name was Naomi, but she was ranked fifth for warriors overall. She even took the statistical debuff of using a female character, the only high-ranked warrior to do that.
'Yeah it's fucking weird, right? Probably bullshit for VR though. I don't really give a fuck about those kinda games, but getting a wish granted sounds cool. Might accept it for a new car or something. Mines is a shitbucket.'
Her crassness never failed to shock me, despite reading and hearing it quite often. I replied with a short reply and told her I was thinking of accepting it then moved onto the last message.
Developers of the game had special badges next to their name, but even this badge was an upgrade to that one. The lead developer.
'Hey Moonshine. Thanks for playing our game, it's good to see someone-'
I scrolled past the first two paragraphs of thanks and got to what I wanted to see.
'The notification is one that I never cleared. Unless one of our employees went behind my back and has done this without my knowledge, it seems to be some form of bug. But, even then, this wasn't even programmed into the game- ever. There was no plans for a False Aralia to be revealed at any point. I would recommend that you decline it, but my attempt to do so failed to remove it from my screen. Hitting accept did, however.'
That was… confusing.
I had already made my mind up to accept regardless of warnings and clashing theories, but hearing that declining wasn't an option only made me more intrigued.
I clicked accept, and the message was replaced by 'Thank you for accepting.' then that box closed on its own. I frowned for a moment at the anti-climactic ending to the journey I had went on, but a small sense of thanks washed over me as I remembered I had to get some sleep anyway.
I turned the desktop off and stripped down to my boxers before hopping into bed. The covers were a welcoming warmth I didn't notice I needed as I closed my eyes and felt myself drift off into a dream. The alarm clock's looming rings seemed so far away at that moment, and it was the easiest entry to sleep I had ever experienced.