7. Vesper
VESPER
I expect more pain, but apparently the worst part has already happened. Once I step through the door, blackness encompasses me for one beat, two, three, and then I step out on the other side into a world I could have never imagined.
“What—” I gasp, my legs going weak as I get a good look at the scene before me.
My eyes roll around, trying to take it all in but it’s nearly impossible when there’s so much to look at.
Red. Where has all the red gone? There is so much color, it’s overwhelming, and I find myself stumbling forward on a raised platform as if I can touch it.
Before I can fully absorb what I’m looking at, a sharp pain in my arm has me shrieking again in surprise.
I look down at my forearm, where my scar used to be, and claw at the piece of silver metal suddenly embedded in my skin.
It’s in the shape of a teardrop, my skin puckered up around the metal like it’s been there forever.
My legs weaken and I drop to my knees, trying to gasp through the final remnants of my pain.
Panic takes over, and I reach toward my arm, prepared to claw this new thing out of me. Nothing—
“You good?”
I jerk and leap to my feet, my hand going to my hip where my knife usually sits in my pocket. It’s empty and I look down in confusion, looking for my prized knife.
“Relax,” Locke says, holding up his hands. “Just me.” When I don’t say anything immediately, his brows shoot up. “Locke, remember? From the line? I told you—”
“I remember,” I grunt, cutting him off as I try to figure out what the fuck is going on.
He’s watching me carefully as I try to gather my senses. As I stare at him, he dusts his trousers off and looks around us at the vibrant colors I’d been agape at, reminding me what I haven’t yet absorbed.
“Are those . . .” I start, swallowing. I’m almost afraid to say the word.
“Trees,” Locke nods. “Lots of them. I think this is . . . I’ve seen the word somewhere before.” He taps his chin. “A forest? Yeah, I think that’s the word.”
“A forest,” I repeat. “Of trees.”
In Dross, the only trees that can grow are usually small and weak.
It takes meticulous care to get a tree to grow, let along to bear fruit.
But these trees are massive, so tall, their tops disappear above us and form a tight canopy.
The leaves move gently with wind I can’t yet feel, and light shines through the leaves in bright streaks.
“It’s not . . . it’s not all red,” I croak.
My eyes ache with the onslaught of color.
Back home, it’s all washed in the color of the dwarf star.
Here, the light is bright and pristine and painfully bright.
The trees shield us from the worst of it, thankfully.
My eyes are watering with what’s breaking through already.
I keep having to close my eyes to ease the ache that’s suddenly filtering in.
My head even starts to hurt with it; the color is so intense.
“Seems so,” Locke says, far less concerned with the color than I seem to be.
“Dox, do you see—” I choke off, remembering the Harrow Gate and the guard shoving me through.
I whirl, searching for my friend and finding nothing but the small platform I stand on.
The door is there, closed solidly behind me.
I leap to my feet and reach for the door handle.
When I try to open it, it’s locked tight.
No matter how hard I pull, it doesn’t budge.
I spin again, but the only person I find is still Locke standing in the foliage at my feet.
Foliage! Plants! “Dox!” I scream, turning in circles as if she’s playing some sort of joke and will suddenly reveal herself at my panic. “Dox!!”
Locke watches me carefully, his brows raised as I turn frantic and start yanking on the door more aggressively. The harder I yank, the more I feel a tingle in my arms. It grows from a nuisance to full blown pain until I scream as I continue trying to yank the door open and go back the way I came.
No matter how hard I pull, the door doesn’t budge.
“I would not recommend that, player two million, six hundred and one thousand, three hundred and thirty-three. Only Tier Fives can traverse backwards through the Harrow Gate when it is open—as you well know—and you are not yet a Tier One.”
I whirl. “Who said that?” I snarl.
Locke holds up his hands in innocence. “You should probably chill out—”
“Don’t tell me to chill out!” I spit. I reach for my blade at my hip again on instinct, but still find it empty. Of course, it didn’t magically appear in the last few minutes.
“Cradle weapons cannot be brought into the Harrow,” the voice informs me. “Don’t worry though. Any weapon you find here will be infinitely better.”
“Who’s speaking?” I snarl. “Show yourself!”
“That would be impossible, Wastrel,” the voice answers. “I am in your head.”
“Get out!” I spit, immediately wrapping my hands around my skull as if that’ll help.
“I can’t do that.”
“I said get out!” I screech.
“It is physically impossible until the moment you leave The Harrow,” the voice continues. “You may be able to kick me out of your thoughts given enough practice, but you cannot remove me completely.”
Locke is just watching me. “It’s the system,” he explains when I fall quiet, trying to help. “If you’d just let it explain to you, it would.”
“It has a name,” the system continues almost snootily. “I am Cipher.”
“Cipher,” I repeat.
“Good,” Cipher says. “You are not a total bumbling idiot if you can learn. Are you calm enough now that I can do my job without your awful panic?”
I blink and look at Locke who shrugs innocently and squints up above us. I follow his gaze and stare at the bottoms of the trees again. My breath whooshes out of me as I’m reminded of its existence. My head still hurts with the brightness of it all.
“Trees,” I whisper.
“Indeed,” Cipher hums. “Welcome to the Verdant Nexus, player two million, six hundred and one thousand, three hundred and thirty-three. The zone you currently stand in is called The Whispering Canopies. You can access your map at any point by tapping the implant in your arm. This is also where you can access your inventory and stats as needed.”
I look at the metal in my arm and tap it like Cipher says. My eyes flicker and I nearly fall on my ass as an image appears floating in front of me. It’s transparent, so I can see still Locke behind it, but the words are easy enough to make out.
“It’s not a very large map,” I say.
“The map will unlock by zone and region as you reach it,” Cipher says condescendingly. “I couldn’t very well do all the work for you.”
I scowl and touch the implant again, bringing up a bunch of empty squares.
“Your inventory,” Cipher supplies helpfully.
“Currently empty. It is limited to fifty spots. Use the spots wisely. There will be storage points along the way, mostly in safehouses, but they are not everywhere and should be considered rare. To place an item in your inventory, simply pick it up and say, ‘Inventory.’ The item will automatically transfer. To remove it, open the inventory and hover your hand above the item for approximately two seconds. It will reappear in your hand.”
I click the implant again and a new menu pops up, this time showing my stats.
TIER 0 – UNALIGNED
Wastrel, entry-level
STRENGTH: 10
AGILITY: 10
VITALITY: 10
WILLPOWER: 10
CHARISMA: 10
LUCK: 10
Above that, there’s an XP bar, and something called HP that’s faded. It’s so pale, I can’t read it, as if it’s meant to be hidden from me.
“Your HP bar will solidify and be easier to track as you level up. This is your health bar. As you are human, you must rely on your instincts first before you can track your health by other means. XP means experience points. You will need to generate XP in order to choose a Glitch and level up through Tiers,” Cipher says. “This is often called grinding.”
I close my menus and squint up again. The trees are so thick, it’s almost dark in some places that aren’t touched by the bright streams of light that come through the leaves.
“Sunlight,” Cipher says.
“But everything isn’t . . .”
“Red,” Cipher finishes. “Yes. Here, in the Harrow, the environments are built reminiscent of Earth. Earth’s sun is not a red dwarf star.
It is a G2V main-sequence star, or a yellow dwarf.
Despite being classified as a yellow dwarf, the sun’s light is actually white, but it appears yellow through the replicated atmosphere. ”
“Earth?” I repeat.
Cipher sighs. “It is such a shame they do not teach you anything in Dross these days. Earth was a planet located within the Milky Way Galaxy where humanity originated from. It was abandoned in the year 2632 due to being severely damaged by human activities.”
I don’t award his condescending tone with a response, instead I square my shoulders, and drop off the platform so that I can walk over to Locke. “You know shit about this place?”
He studies me with a raised brow. “People don’t usually linger near each other here I’ve heard. It’s dangerous.”
“What’s that mean?” I ask, staring at him. “You gonna kill me?”
“Death by fellow players is as common as death by Harrow, player two million, six hundred and three thousand, three hundred and thirty-three,” Cipher chips in. “It would do you well to remember that.”
My scowl deepens. “I have a name, too. If you’re going to be talking to me all the time, use it.”
“Ah,” Cipher breathes, his tone taking on a strange quality to it. “It would be my pleasure . . . Vespera.”
I point my finger at Locke. “Don’t try to kill me, or else I’m going to make your body look like a Harrow Gate.”
Locke smirks. “I would never.”
But he definitely would. If deadly was a man, it would look like him. Black Abacus members aren’t exactly upstanding citizens and his ink marks him as untrustworthy immediately.
But that barcode tattoo on his face?
That says I’ll need to watch my back closely. It wouldn’t do well to find a knife in my back before I’ve figured out how to survive long enough to meet up with Dox.