In the cobblestone streets ran a family of three. They were in the cesspool that was a stampede. The family was fleeing from the attack of a pack of elcians; four legged beasts that have a tail that splits into tendrils, killing any who they find.
The beasts were unlike any other animal. They didn't kill for hunger, rather for sport. They found it fun to massacre all forms of life, not even eating what they killed most of the time.
The daughter of the family, a little girl, felt a rough shoe push up against her achilles. "Eugh!" She yelped, falling to the floor. People continued charging past her as her parents looked back at her. Their faces were instilled with fear as their eyes locked with an encroaching beast.
The elcian roared high pitched, forcing everybody to cover their ears. The young girl began to cry, glancing back at her injury. It was bleeding; violently. Tears welling in her eyes, she once more looked at her parents.
For a moment, a doubtful worry crossed her mind. Are they going to leave me?
Her heart ran rampant, but relief filled it as her parents crouched down next to her. Her father said something, but it all sounded inaudible in the noises that filled the air. Grabbing her mothers hand, she stood up. Her father held his arms out, so that he could carry her.
However, just as she was about to press upon his chest, a sudden and swift tendril pierced him. "URGH!" He groaned, looking down at what had stabbed him. He bit his lips, uttering his last words to his wife and daughter, "RUN!"
Abruptly, his body went flying towards an elcian, and her mother picked her up. Her mother was breathing heavily, tears strolling down her cheeks like rivers. As the girl huddled over her mothers shoulder, she noticed someone in the midst of the battle.
All the knights were dead.
But there was a cloaked figure still fighting. They resembled everything that was a villain, down to the red and black they wore, the shrouded face, and the bloody eyes that peeked out. Yet, they were fighting the wild beast.
She couldn't stop crying, but a little hope filled her heart.
That he would save them.
**********
The year was 2065, marking thirty years since the release of Mythos, a MystiVerse game. Mystiverse- Mystical Virtual Reality Simulation Experience. It was the original of all MystiVerse games as you could call it the father of the Mystiverse.
As for what made it special, that would be the fact it was the first game in history to allow players to enter a virtual world, being able to see and interact with fantasy worlds.
Mythos knew they were the first of its kind, so the developers did everything in their power to make sure this was a game people would be able to fall back on. To come back to. And the best way to do that was with customization.
Unlimited customization.
There were well over four thousand classes and subclasses. So many to the point that plenty of people find it to be an unnecessary amount as classes have been made that people find to make no sense, such as the Plumber Class.
The game was also designed so that you could choose multiple classes. If you didn't grind for the extra levels, then the max level for the average person was level 100. However, you were able to get to level 110, which allowed for exactly one more subclass as every class was maxed out at ten.
However, all good things must come to an end.
Inside the world of Mythos, atop a verdant tree sat a man all by himself. Inside one of the many worlds of Mythos, he currently found himself in a cyberpunk one. Buildings lit up with blue and pink neon, cars and chattering filled the streets, and the clouds adorned the sky.
The player, Surf, was somebody known throughout the worlds of Mythos. You see, in the game exist three categories of beings the player can choose. Firstly, humanoid characters. Other than the obvious humans, there are dwarves, goblins, elves, tieflings, etc. Secondly, monsters, which contained dragons, trolls, hydras, and so on. Lastly, the undead category that held zombies, skeletons, vampires, and more.
Unfortunately, the game was heavily split between the three categories when it came to strength. And that was, because humanoids were deemed the weakest of the three, and in Mythos existed a faction based system. This meant it was humanoid v monsters v undead.
When the game first came out, the humanoids got their asses handed to them, resulting in less and less people choosing it. However, over the last five years they've been winning nearly every event and category.
And that was because of one man: Surf.
Nobody knew who was in real life as he didn't stream himself playing. Ever. Not once in the history of his career had he ever live streamed it. Many wondered who he could be, but nobody ever figured it out.
As he sat upon the virtual branch, Surf sighed. His in game character was a human, something he was pretty proud of. His curly jet-black hair fell in tousled waves around his face, framing a pair of expressive crimson eyes that seemed to shimmer with hidden depths. Clad in a comfortable hoodie, its fabric worn with familiarity, he exuded an air of casual confidence.
"I can't believe it's all about to be gone." He said, falling backwards. Dangling off the tree, he muttered to himself, "What am I supposed to do now?"
Flipping off the branch and landing on the ground, he walked to his stunning muscle car. Rubbing a hand against it, he scoffed. "Not sure I'm ready to abandon you."
Suddenly, he got a message from the system interface.
[You've received a direct message from player 'Misty']
Surf opened the message, but as he did, he noticed a timer ticking down in the top right corner. It currently sat at three minutes and ten seconds left.
[Misty: Finally feeling sentimental Surf?]
Surf stared at the message for a few seconds before replying.
[Me: Should I be?]
[Misty: Duh! You just lost any chance you had at getting any type of money from Mythos.]
[Me: I don't care about the money.]
[Misty: Bullshit. Everybody loves money you asshole.]
Surf blinked. He was feeling tired, something he didn't normally feel inside the game.
[Me: Hey are you feeling tired? Or is that just me?]
[Misty: Uhhh ig since you brought it up yeah… I do feel kinda tired. Weird.]
Surf glanced at the timer once more. Less than a minute remained. He scanned his surroundings, observing subtle glitches beginning to manifest. Even his car showed signs of distortion, with patches flickering in and out of existence.
[Me: Looks like the worlds are falling apart.]
[Misty: Yup looks that way. I had my fun tho. Did you?]
Surf cleared his throat, before lying.
[Me: Yea.]
The sky began to crackle; it looked as if the world were ending. Well, they were ending. Except it wasn't a real world. Not to most people, yet Surf was different. These were his worlds, and they were falling apart around him.
The timer was reaching zero, and for the first time in a long time, Surf was actually anxious for a response. As the timer hit ten seconds, a thought crossed his mind. Did she get off?
But to his surprise, just before the timer ran out, another message read out across his screen.
[Misty: Liar.]
Shutting his eyes, Surf expected to wake up in his apartment.
…
"Huh?" Surf reopened his eyes, noticing he wasn't back in real life. Not just that, though, as he also found himself not outside either. The room was dimly lit, a round table sitting in the middle of the room, which followed the colorway of black and red.
Thankfully, he knew where this was.
"Why am I back at the HQ of The Veiled Order?" He thought out loud. "I should be waking up in my bed right now." He stated.
Taking a step forward, the marble floor made an echo throughout the room. Sounds like that was too overly complex for the Mythos developers to create. If this weren't the Mythos he knew, then it could only mean, "holy shit… this is… a real… real world," he said.
Tracing his clothes, he realized he could also feel it much different than in Mythos. Normally, on Earth, his heart rate would have increased by now. But his character possessed many skills that eliminated emotional feelings for a human.
Speaking of his clothes, he boasted a wine-colored robe, and a black shirt beneath it. "Feels weird to say that out loud, then again, there's no other explanation… but, if The Veiled Order is here, then…?" He glanced at two twin doors that spanned outwards pretty far.
Walking up to them, his shoes continued clacking in the dimness. Approaching the doors, they opened before he could even touch them. "Just like in the game." He said. The floor rumbled slightly until the twin doors were opened all the way.
As the creator and leader of The Veiled Order, he had the entire area known like the back of his hand. Light, however, invaded his vision, causing him to shade his eyes. And as he did, he heard an oddly feminine voice, "Surf, are you alright?"
That voice…
"Thalia?" He wondered. Quickly, he moved a hand up to his throat; his voice was unusually lower than normal.
"Yes, it's me, sir. Are you okay? You look a bit pale."
Surf tried to clear his throat, yet for whatever reason, he could not. It was as if the character he had created wouldn't allow for it. A filter. Surf concluded.
"I'm alright. Thanks for asking." He replied, taking it all in. In Mythos, there was still a way to tell the difference between an NPC and a real person. And right now, he could tell this was no NPC.
Thalia's straight brunette hair cascaded like a river of silk down her back, framing a face of serene beauty and piercing intellect. Her complexion, fair as moonlight, seemed to glow against the backdrop of her attire—a cloak of deepest black, trimmed with accents of crimson red that danced like flames in the wind.
"Well, if you say so. However, we could really use your help right now. The whole gang is losing their minds. I mean, you've noticed that, haven't you?" She asked.
The way her mouth moved nearly sent shivers down Surf's spine. He had gotten used to seeing the uncanny way NPC's spoke, and seeing them move and talk like real humans was obviously a first for him. Still, he wasn't nervous. His brain was telling him he should be, but his body wouldn't allow for it.
Although he was calm, it still remained true that he was completely lost. This left a few options on the table. He could start flipping out and asking Thalia as well as other members what's going on and that this isn't his real world. Or…
"Of course I've noticed. I imagine everyone is in the main hall, yes?" He bullshitted.
"I don't know why I asked such a dumb question," she muttered, lowering herself onto one knee in front of him. "Sorry for that slip-up."
Most people never bother with the loyalty quests for their team members. But I've invested in them, and it seems to be paying off. Still, something feels off. For now, I'll stick to playing the role of Surf, not revealing my true self from Earth.
"No need to apologize. Completely understandable. We're navigating uncharted territory, after all," he reassured her.
Thalia's eyes lit up with hope. "Absolutely. Do you want to gather everyone else? You've got a plan to get us back, right?"
"I do."
With that, Thalia shot up from the floor. The two began to walk down the halls, which had a sort of marble floor that was opaque, and tinted windows. Currently, they were high in the air. This was because The Veiled Order's HQ was actually a ship, the Valkyrie. It was a ship that possessed the ability to both transform as well as go invisible. Considering they were flying in the air, Surf walked along the windows.
High above the earth, the airship cruised through a realm where cobblestone streets wound through bustling market squares, where gas lamps flickered to life as dusk settled, casting an amber glow over the city streets below. From their aerial perch, passengers gazed upon a world reminiscent of an era steeped in antiquity yet tinged with the fantastical. Towers of stone and marble soared towards the heavens, their spires intricately carved and embellished with arcane symbols, while steam-powered carriages traversed winding roads lined with wrought iron lanterns. The landscape unfolded like a painting, with emerald forests giving way to shimmering rivers and verdant meadows, all framed by majestic mountain ranges cloaked in mist.
Some of those towers were so tall they were almost reaching the Valkyrie's height. Suddenly, a thought ran across Surfs mind. I know this place… this is one of the seven worlds of Mythos… Elysium!
"The view is quite nice, isn't it, sir."
"That it is." Surf replied.
I've wandered these grounds countless times during my gameplay. It's evident that whatever has happened to me is still tied to Mythos. If I'm here, then what about the other planets? It seems unlikely that I would end up on Elysium by mere chance, unable to access the others.
The two turned a corner, and another long hall presented itself. This one had guards alongside the walls, and all the way down were another set of twin doors, except these ones were much bigger. There was a torch on both sides of the doors.
And sat above the doors was the emblem of the Veiled Order, a circular carving, about two feet in diameter, suspended in the center of an ancient chamber. It is made from polished obsidian, giving it a dark, reflective surface that seems to absorb the dim light of the room. The central figure is that of a hooded figure, its face hidden beneath a flowing veil. The figure's robes are intricately detailed, suggesting a sense of ancient wisdom and power. Seven stars, also carved from obsidian, are arranged in a circle around the figure, each one emitting a soft, otherworldly glow. Arcane symbols are etched into the surface of the emblem, their lines twisting and intertwining with one another in a mesmerizing pattern. As one gazes upon the emblem, they can almost feel the weight of centuries of secrets and hidden knowledge that it represents, beckoning them to unlock its mysteries.
And on each member's robe, on the right shoulder, were the seven stars as the veiled figure is themselves.
Surf rubbed his chin, noticing each guard kneeling as he passed by them. This is for real. I really am Surf. I wonder, then, what of my other characters? Gah, I shouldn't be worrying about that. Right now… I need to get everything under control. My surroundings. Then I'll figure out how I ended up here. For now, I simply go with the flow.
Approaching the doors, two guards pushed up on their individual door, and opened it. The room inside was enormous, larger than any room he had ever seen. No grocery stores are even this big.
Unlike the rest of the Valkyrie, this room was a pristine white. Chandeliers decorated the roof, and banners of their emblem were set up around the room. And inside, thousands of people were present. The chattering was loud, but suddenly, they all stopped.
Those same thousands of pairs of eyes looked over at Surf. Once again, he felt as if his heart should have dropped.
But it didn't.
With silence now filling the main hall, Surf and Thalia walked in a straight line until they found themselves in front of a throne.
Considering how bright the room was, the Shadow Throne stood out. It awaited its master, shrouded in flowing curtains of black silk that seemed to dance with a life of their own. Crafted from the bones of ancient beasts of all seven worlds and veiled in an aura of darkness, the throne exuded an air of foreboding and mystery. As Surf approached, he felt as if unseen eyes were watching his every move, as if testing his worthiness to claim the seat of power. But Surf was no fool, it was apparent everyone in this room had already known him for a long time, and the same applies to the throne. He doesn't need to be tested, for he already has been. And with each step closer, he realized more and more that the throne would bring him face to face with the shadows that lurked in his own soul.
In a regal authority, he brushed the curtains to their side, and took his rightful seat. As he did, every single person in the room knelt in perfect formations, swift as lightning. And on the lower steps of the platform came eight people.
The Eternal Eight. Surf thought to himself as everybody was knelt before him. He dug a fist into his cheek. Alright, then. I guess I have no choice. It can't be that hard, can it? I've practically been living in Mythos for years now. Although now that I think about it, perhaps I went over the top when I bought this throne from the store. This isn't a kingdom for crying out loud, it's an organization.
Of the eight, Thalia was the fifth from the left. And the fourth from the left, Dante, stepped forward. He quickly knelt again, just now in front of the others. The man began to speak, "Sir, if I may…"
"You may." Surf said, which once again didn't feel right. The tone of his voice was almost venomous and filled with hatred.
"As you already know, we are not back on Fatum."
"Yes, it would appear that way. But you see, Dante, I know exactly where we are."
Abruptly, many in the hall began to exchange looks. Nobody whispered, because that would be out of line. Shocked, Dante said, "You know where we are, sir?"
"That I do. I've been here multiple times. This planet is called Elysium. It's nothing like Fatum, except the nature which is somewhat similar."
Another one scooted up, Cipher, saying, "Sir, what's the plan?" He asked.
It is true I know this place. But for getting outta here? I haven't the faintest clue. I could just lie to them– no! I know exactly how to spin this.
"What is the purpose of The Veiled Order?"
"To do what others cannot." Dante stated.
"Close. Anyone else?"
The person on the far left raised her head, pushing back the hood to reveal her chocolate-colored skin and hair pulled into a tight bun. As Azura, the leader of The Eternal Eight, she spoke with authority. "What Dante said is mostly true. We excel where others falter, not because we must, but because we can. Our mission is to preserve peace by any means necessary."
Involuntarily, Surf's lips extended, revealing a sinister smile beneath the veil for all to see.
"Excellent."