“...I...can’t believe I’m the only one who showed up.”
Sitting alone atop a throne of pure black, a player’s Avatar sat and waited, the final few minutes of the online lifespan of YGGDRASIL Online ticking quickly before his eyes...and he was the only one there. There in that room, in that chateau, in that little pocket of a world that he and his friends had painstakingly crafted together by hand, by code, and by virtue of their time. Each and every texture, each and every little piece of ground, and each inhabitant of this place was their brainchild. And yet...here he sat. The only one amongst the Ten Lords to return, to his Sable Throne, to this place that meant so much to them all.
...Was this really all there was to it? The most simplistic tragedy of all, a simple silent farewell?
It was infuriating. In the extreme. In the past hour while waiting for his guild mates to login, he had gotten a bit buzzeed in real life, figuring that they’d make a party out of it, a good sendoff to their years of effort, millions of gold pieces spent, vacation days wasted, and salary bonuses spent on dumb cosmetics and items. But, that party soon became a solitary brooding. He’d sent the mass forwarded e-mail...and even some of the friends he had in other guilds hadn’t logged on. It was almost hilarious, if it weren’t so insulting to the pride that had accumulated in their guild. They’d never been the largest, nor the most powerful, but the level restrictions in place on those who entered, as well as their own strategy had meant that for the most part their guild was undefeated. Tired eyes looked out of the corner of his neural nano-interface, seeing the slowly counting seconds of the last ten minutes of this world.
“I have work tomorrow...but…”
Waves of responsible acknowledgement assaulted his mind, as tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Fucking hell...what’s even the point of it anymore? No family, no friends, no mobility...bastard of a manager keeps dumping his work on me to go screw around…”
It was a pathetic sight, to say the least. While tears rolled down his cheeks IRL, his in game avatar just continued to sit in silence, his expression one of sadness, the neural interface mimicking the user’s emotional state. It was just a video game. That was all it was, he would think. ...And then he’d break his own assertion again and again that it was just a game. He wanted it to never have to end, for his friendships to carry on, to not be broken down by the cruel nature of society and biology. Was it so much to ask to be happy with what one had?
His drunken sobs would subside, the Sanguine Lord’s throne becoming vacant as he moved his avatar over to the window to gaze out at the Chateau’s landscape. So much care had gone into making and maintaining it...a place for every last member of Bandersnatch. Looking back to the ten cold thrones surrounding a table in the center of the room, a sigh escaped his lips. “...You could have at least replied to the e-mail…” he muttered, as Rodias would press his hand to a wall, the ring on his gauntlet covered hand glowing as a hidden door opened, leading into the Guild’s R&R room. A simple set of luxuriously spacious bedrooms where people were able to log out and gain Rested Experience Points overnight. He’d never had a chance to make use of them, but he figured that if he was going to put his character at rest forever, he might as well give him a proper place to lie.
Looking at the last minute on the clock, Rodias would feel pangs of guilt wash over him, for not trying to do an IRL meetup like Kiss My Axe had suggested, even if finding time off from their jobs was hard. The vampire’s idle pose on the bed would be to cross his arms over his chest in an X shape, as if he were sleeping in a coffin. Traptrixx had at one point in time gotten him to use one as a bed, but he insisted it was ridiculous looking. Regardless, his hand would move over his console to the LOGOUT function, before his fingers stopped. What the hell was the point of even logging off anymore? Not like it mattered if anything saved properly. Closing his eyes as soon as he saw the seconds tick into the 50s, he would sigh.
“...I’d do it all again, if I could...maybe I’ll rebuild all this. If they ever make a YGGDRASIL 2.”
A slight wave of pain would pass through his mind as midnight hit, before he shook his head, eyes opening once more.
“...Where’d my HUD go?” he would question, hands reaching out to the air to try and reach a console that no longer existed. “The chat’s gone too…” he would say, trying to vocalize something in global chat, which would just cause him to say:
“IS ANYONE ELSE ON NIFLHEIM HAVING HUD GLITCHES?” in a really, really not indoor-type-of-voice.
Covering his own mouth, Rodias would jolt up from the bed, looking down at his hands. “...What the hell…?” he would question, getting up and nearly banging his head on the bed’s poles.
Walking over to the mirror, he would try to look at himself, only to find that he didn’t show up in it. His clothes sure did though. “...No way…” he would say, in disbelief, yet carrying with him a slight tone of wonder. Reaching into his cloak for his inventory, he would find that instead of relying upon a menu to navigate it, he instead just...knew where things were. His weapons, gold, potions, all of it was with him in that cape. With a slight tinge of wonder in his motions, he started pacing around the private quarters.
“Okay...so...I’m either dying from an electrical surge to my brain that’s making me think I’m my character...or this is real. And I’ve just gotten out of a shit job, no path in life, like some kind of light novel protagonist…”
The more he thought on it, the less terrifying this became. In fact, he started believing there to genuinely be no downsides to this. Clutching his head in one hand, a chuckle would turn to a laugh, then into an almost mad cackling. “YES!” he would shout, expressing his joy in privacy as he drew his daggers. What would follow would seem to most the equivalent of a child swinging about toys as if he was an action hero, yet the longer he randomly swung his knives at a training dummy in place in the quarters, the more he would feel the motions grow natural. As if he really had spent years practicing them. ”This feels so right...I get it. Martial characters in YGGDRASIL had to do this anyways on reaction. And now…” he would think, before he threw one of his daggers up in the air, before tossing the second up, perfectly bouncing it into the head of the dummy. ”Now...this is my reality.” he would say with a growing smirk.
“...Wonder if everything else is still here,” Rodias would say aloud to himself, not quite used to thinking with his new voice. Emerging once more into the Climax Hour, he would take a seat upon his throne for a moment, striking various poses that struck his fancy, before settling with the classic of one ankle resting on a knee, with his chin perched in the palm of his hand. He briefly thought about what to do, or rather, what he could do. If YGGDRASIL had become reality, did this mean that everyone had gotten stuck as their characters? Or was it only the die-hard fans that got stuck, waiting for the midnight game wipe to pass?
He couldn’t know, but he had a feeling he could find out by reaching the first floor and marching out to see. He was no mage, so a Gate Spell was out of the question, and a brief try at using his portal scrolls to specific towns lead to them fizzling out and disintegrating. Messages didn’t seem to work, but he imagined the Message Spell might work to contact someone. Standing up, Rodias would begin to walk, growing used to his new center of balance rather quickly, and growing accustomed to his new proportions as well. He had gained over a foot of height, now a seven foot giant of a vampire, yet he felt right at home in his own skin. Strange. Regardless, he would soon use his ring once more, opening up a hidden elevator in order to quickly descend past the various Chapters to the Foyer. Striding out, he would look at all of the Skeletal Butlers hard at work as they always were, a slight smug grin on his lips as he walked towards the front door, suddenly stopped by a butler’s words that alarmed him.
“Ah, Master Rodias, where are you off to Young Master? If you’ve need of transport, we can find a suitable steed from Kaldorna right away.”
Those words, far more natural sounding than normal NPC dialogue, sent a shiver down Rodias’ spine. That...that wasn’t what the door-skeleton was programmed to say. Alarmed, Rodias would just stare slack-jawed at him.
“Is something the matter sir?”
Again, he was stunned. So...not only was he his character...but the entire guild building was alive. Aglow with activity even. The butlers out on their duties, the various servants of other floors coming down as necessity demanded it, and all around him, he could feel eyes upon him. For someone who had spent all their life out of the spotlight, Rodias could immediately sense the gravity of the situation before him. He wasn’t just himself as his character, he WAS Rodias now. This wasn’t the fun kind of isekai where you get to go gallivanting around, groping random women by accident, making friends with ancient dragons with pinky-swears, and gaining cheat-code-esque skills from a well-endowed goddess. This was his reality. He had to think fast, so as to not arouse any kind of suspicion. One wrong move, and he could potentially ruin the entirety of the Chateau. The entirety of his home. The order was now placed in his hand to run this place, and, as he finally stood straight at attention, he remembered all those dumb nights roleplaying out his character in full.
”No need, but thank you. I was just planning to take a quick stroll, get some fresh air, if you will,” Rodias would say, sounding completely natural. His body language spoke of confidence, and his tone carried with it the regality of one of noble blood, his fangs slightly visible beneath his upper lip as he smiled warmly at his subject.
“Ah, my apologies then, Young Master. Allow me,” the gate keeper would say, before opening the door. Walking out with a calm, refined visage, Rodias couldn’t help but think to himself: ”Damn I’m good!”
After the most casual of strolls around the guild’s...well, now HIS estate, he would quickly see that something was amiss. Not only was the sky completely different from normal, but the surroundings of the Chateau that were normally a dark forest of wilted and dead trees that shielded the beautiful building’s gardens from intruders, there was instead cold, hard stone. And the air was so cold...and thin. Walking a fair distance away, he would come to realize something.
They were on a mountain. And had apparently replaced one of the peaks. It was as if a solid sphere of matter had been replaced with the Chateau. And below...he could clearly see the faint outlines of medieval-style buildings. Like a little village was just down at their doorstep, about to wake up to a huge chunk of their mountain just gone.
In a hurry to return to the Chateau, Rodias would enter, before giving the butler assigned to functioning as a messenger to assemble the Chapter Keepers, as well as any inhabitants of the chateau that were over level 40. Something was very, very wrong...
Sitting alone atop a throne of pure black, a player’s Avatar sat and waited, the final few minutes of the online lifespan of YGGDRASIL Online ticking quickly before his eyes...and he was the only one there. There in that room, in that chateau, in that little pocket of a world that he and his friends had painstakingly crafted together by hand, by code, and by virtue of their time. Each and every texture, each and every little piece of ground, and each inhabitant of this place was their brainchild. And yet...here he sat. The only one amongst the Ten Lords to return, to his Sable Throne, to this place that meant so much to them all.
...Was this really all there was to it? The most simplistic tragedy of all, a simple silent farewell?
It was infuriating. In the extreme. In the past hour while waiting for his guild mates to login, he had gotten a bit buzzeed in real life, figuring that they’d make a party out of it, a good sendoff to their years of effort, millions of gold pieces spent, vacation days wasted, and salary bonuses spent on dumb cosmetics and items. But, that party soon became a solitary brooding. He’d sent the mass forwarded e-mail...and even some of the friends he had in other guilds hadn’t logged on. It was almost hilarious, if it weren’t so insulting to the pride that had accumulated in their guild. They’d never been the largest, nor the most powerful, but the level restrictions in place on those who entered, as well as their own strategy had meant that for the most part their guild was undefeated. Tired eyes looked out of the corner of his neural nano-interface, seeing the slowly counting seconds of the last ten minutes of this world.
“I have work tomorrow...but…”
Waves of responsible acknowledgement assaulted his mind, as tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Fucking hell...what’s even the point of it anymore? No family, no friends, no mobility...bastard of a manager keeps dumping his work on me to go screw around…”
It was a pathetic sight, to say the least. While tears rolled down his cheeks IRL, his in game avatar just continued to sit in silence, his expression one of sadness, the neural interface mimicking the user’s emotional state. It was just a video game. That was all it was, he would think. ...And then he’d break his own assertion again and again that it was just a game. He wanted it to never have to end, for his friendships to carry on, to not be broken down by the cruel nature of society and biology. Was it so much to ask to be happy with what one had?
His drunken sobs would subside, the Sanguine Lord’s throne becoming vacant as he moved his avatar over to the window to gaze out at the Chateau’s landscape. So much care had gone into making and maintaining it...a place for every last member of Bandersnatch. Looking back to the ten cold thrones surrounding a table in the center of the room, a sigh escaped his lips. “...You could have at least replied to the e-mail…” he muttered, as Rodias would press his hand to a wall, the ring on his gauntlet covered hand glowing as a hidden door opened, leading into the Guild’s R&R room. A simple set of luxuriously spacious bedrooms where people were able to log out and gain Rested Experience Points overnight. He’d never had a chance to make use of them, but he figured that if he was going to put his character at rest forever, he might as well give him a proper place to lie.
Looking at the last minute on the clock, Rodias would feel pangs of guilt wash over him, for not trying to do an IRL meetup like Kiss My Axe had suggested, even if finding time off from their jobs was hard. The vampire’s idle pose on the bed would be to cross his arms over his chest in an X shape, as if he were sleeping in a coffin. Traptrixx had at one point in time gotten him to use one as a bed, but he insisted it was ridiculous looking. Regardless, his hand would move over his console to the LOGOUT function, before his fingers stopped. What the hell was the point of even logging off anymore? Not like it mattered if anything saved properly. Closing his eyes as soon as he saw the seconds tick into the 50s, he would sigh.
“...I’d do it all again, if I could...maybe I’ll rebuild all this. If they ever make a YGGDRASIL 2.”
A slight wave of pain would pass through his mind as midnight hit, before he shook his head, eyes opening once more.
“...Where’d my HUD go?” he would question, hands reaching out to the air to try and reach a console that no longer existed. “The chat’s gone too…” he would say, trying to vocalize something in global chat, which would just cause him to say:
“IS ANYONE ELSE ON NIFLHEIM HAVING HUD GLITCHES?” in a really, really not indoor-type-of-voice.
Covering his own mouth, Rodias would jolt up from the bed, looking down at his hands. “...What the hell…?” he would question, getting up and nearly banging his head on the bed’s poles.
Walking over to the mirror, he would try to look at himself, only to find that he didn’t show up in it. His clothes sure did though. “...No way…” he would say, in disbelief, yet carrying with him a slight tone of wonder. Reaching into his cloak for his inventory, he would find that instead of relying upon a menu to navigate it, he instead just...knew where things were. His weapons, gold, potions, all of it was with him in that cape. With a slight tinge of wonder in his motions, he started pacing around the private quarters.
“Okay...so...I’m either dying from an electrical surge to my brain that’s making me think I’m my character...or this is real. And I’ve just gotten out of a shit job, no path in life, like some kind of light novel protagonist…”
The more he thought on it, the less terrifying this became. In fact, he started believing there to genuinely be no downsides to this. Clutching his head in one hand, a chuckle would turn to a laugh, then into an almost mad cackling. “YES!” he would shout, expressing his joy in privacy as he drew his daggers. What would follow would seem to most the equivalent of a child swinging about toys as if he was an action hero, yet the longer he randomly swung his knives at a training dummy in place in the quarters, the more he would feel the motions grow natural. As if he really had spent years practicing them. ”This feels so right...I get it. Martial characters in YGGDRASIL had to do this anyways on reaction. And now…” he would think, before he threw one of his daggers up in the air, before tossing the second up, perfectly bouncing it into the head of the dummy. ”Now...this is my reality.” he would say with a growing smirk.
“...Wonder if everything else is still here,” Rodias would say aloud to himself, not quite used to thinking with his new voice. Emerging once more into the Climax Hour, he would take a seat upon his throne for a moment, striking various poses that struck his fancy, before settling with the classic of one ankle resting on a knee, with his chin perched in the palm of his hand. He briefly thought about what to do, or rather, what he could do. If YGGDRASIL had become reality, did this mean that everyone had gotten stuck as their characters? Or was it only the die-hard fans that got stuck, waiting for the midnight game wipe to pass?
He couldn’t know, but he had a feeling he could find out by reaching the first floor and marching out to see. He was no mage, so a Gate Spell was out of the question, and a brief try at using his portal scrolls to specific towns lead to them fizzling out and disintegrating. Messages didn’t seem to work, but he imagined the Message Spell might work to contact someone. Standing up, Rodias would begin to walk, growing used to his new center of balance rather quickly, and growing accustomed to his new proportions as well. He had gained over a foot of height, now a seven foot giant of a vampire, yet he felt right at home in his own skin. Strange. Regardless, he would soon use his ring once more, opening up a hidden elevator in order to quickly descend past the various Chapters to the Foyer. Striding out, he would look at all of the Skeletal Butlers hard at work as they always were, a slight smug grin on his lips as he walked towards the front door, suddenly stopped by a butler’s words that alarmed him.
“Ah, Master Rodias, where are you off to Young Master? If you’ve need of transport, we can find a suitable steed from Kaldorna right away.”
Those words, far more natural sounding than normal NPC dialogue, sent a shiver down Rodias’ spine. That...that wasn’t what the door-skeleton was programmed to say. Alarmed, Rodias would just stare slack-jawed at him.
“Is something the matter sir?”
Again, he was stunned. So...not only was he his character...but the entire guild building was alive. Aglow with activity even. The butlers out on their duties, the various servants of other floors coming down as necessity demanded it, and all around him, he could feel eyes upon him. For someone who had spent all their life out of the spotlight, Rodias could immediately sense the gravity of the situation before him. He wasn’t just himself as his character, he WAS Rodias now. This wasn’t the fun kind of isekai where you get to go gallivanting around, groping random women by accident, making friends with ancient dragons with pinky-swears, and gaining cheat-code-esque skills from a well-endowed goddess. This was his reality. He had to think fast, so as to not arouse any kind of suspicion. One wrong move, and he could potentially ruin the entirety of the Chateau. The entirety of his home. The order was now placed in his hand to run this place, and, as he finally stood straight at attention, he remembered all those dumb nights roleplaying out his character in full.
”No need, but thank you. I was just planning to take a quick stroll, get some fresh air, if you will,” Rodias would say, sounding completely natural. His body language spoke of confidence, and his tone carried with it the regality of one of noble blood, his fangs slightly visible beneath his upper lip as he smiled warmly at his subject.
“Ah, my apologies then, Young Master. Allow me,” the gate keeper would say, before opening the door. Walking out with a calm, refined visage, Rodias couldn’t help but think to himself: ”Damn I’m good!”
After the most casual of strolls around the guild’s...well, now HIS estate, he would quickly see that something was amiss. Not only was the sky completely different from normal, but the surroundings of the Chateau that were normally a dark forest of wilted and dead trees that shielded the beautiful building’s gardens from intruders, there was instead cold, hard stone. And the air was so cold...and thin. Walking a fair distance away, he would come to realize something.
They were on a mountain. And had apparently replaced one of the peaks. It was as if a solid sphere of matter had been replaced with the Chateau. And below...he could clearly see the faint outlines of medieval-style buildings. Like a little village was just down at their doorstep, about to wake up to a huge chunk of their mountain just gone.
In a hurry to return to the Chateau, Rodias would enter, before giving the butler assigned to functioning as a messenger to assemble the Chapter Keepers, as well as any inhabitants of the chateau that were over level 40. Something was very, very wrong...
To do one's duty, one had to be well-equipped for it. To be well-equipped, one had to be skilled enough to know which tool to get. But for some, the most skilled, no tool was needed whatsoever. That was the case for Gothika's resident gardener. A lithe figure at home with digging in the dirt, he would currently be on break from his duties, napping amidst the flowers he'd worked to plant. Comfortable as a beast was in the wild, he would slumber until disturbed, at which point a flash of teeth would snarl, before he realized that it was just a Bone Butler. "Oh hey! I thought you were an intruder!" the gardener would say, the arm of the skeletal servant severed and placed in one of his hands.
"I would appreciate my arm back, Master Zouyu."
Not even realizing that he had it in his paws, the weretiger would look around, before spying it in his hand, and hurriedly reattaching it to the skeleton, bowing his head. "Sorry about that! Did you have a message for me?" the young man would question, trying his best to be sincere with his apology. Once he got the message relayed to him however, the boy's already eager expression turned into an almost puppy-like sweetness. "No way! A Sable Lord, asking for little 'ol me!? Must be something important! Maybe he wants the vegetables changed out, or maybe wants to give me a promotion to HEAD-Head Gardener!" he would blurt out, not even letting the poor butler finish before he ran off on all fours, making a beeline to the Climax Hour.
To such a simple beast, there was no sweeter ambrosia than praise from his masters. Save for blood.
"I would appreciate my arm back, Master Zouyu."
Not even realizing that he had it in his paws, the weretiger would look around, before spying it in his hand, and hurriedly reattaching it to the skeleton, bowing his head. "Sorry about that! Did you have a message for me?" the young man would question, trying his best to be sincere with his apology. Once he got the message relayed to him however, the boy's already eager expression turned into an almost puppy-like sweetness. "No way! A Sable Lord, asking for little 'ol me!? Must be something important! Maybe he wants the vegetables changed out, or maybe wants to give me a promotion to HEAD-Head Gardener!" he would blurt out, not even letting the poor butler finish before he ran off on all fours, making a beeline to the Climax Hour.
To such a simple beast, there was no sweeter ambrosia than praise from his masters. Save for blood.
