Chapter One: Uncertainty

Zacharie wasn't sure what to make of this. That was unusual. As the typical merchant in any video game, he had access to a wealth of information and abilities far surpassing that of any other character. That, and the Elsen were quiet, timid people, to the extent of being laughable. At least, when they weren't burnt.

So the notion of being robbed had never occurred to Zacharie, specifically armed robbery by an Elsen. This certainly wasn't part of the main story, it wasn't scripted. The Batter and the Player were… well, he honestly wasn't sure. The game was ended, that much was clear. The switch was flipped OFF, and that world was destroyed.

Of course, that was only one game. Zacharie had the ability to move between these games, and his current one wasn't even started yet. Installed, sure, but not yet activated. Zone One was as calm as the tumultuous zone could be. There would soon be a different Player, and all other characters of this horrific entertainment. Except for Zacharie himself, this world was new, yet exactly the same as every one previous.

And yet, here was the Elsen. They stood there, black tie askew, white shirt rumpled and stained, hands shaking with the weight of a gun. Guns shouldn't even exist in this game. They shivered, and spoke in a trembling voice. "H-hand over all the credits. Please…?"

"Hmm." Zacharie scrutinized the Elsen, leaning on the counter of his shop. Under his mask, a curious expression came across his face. "Perhaps not. What are your motives?"

"Um…" A flicker of confusion passed over the timid being's face, only magnifying the nervousness within. "W-well, Dedan doesn't pay us a whole lot, and I, I could use the money… you know?"

"Indeed." Curiouser and curiouser. "Well, I'm sorry to inform you that I have no credits with me, my mousy compatriota."

"...b-but you're a merchant! You, you should have something…" The Elsen paused, coughing into their sleeve.

"On the contrary. I only sell wares to a certain brute whom has yet to come along. And yet, here you are." Zacharie chuckled slightly, holding out a hand. "Might I see that?"

The Elsen didn't know what to do with that. They paused, and, not knowing exactly how a robbery was supposed to go, handed the gun over.

Zacharie studied it, noting the craftsmanship and the material. The material should not have existed in this world. It was a type of metal that there was never a need to code. "Where did you get this?"

"I b-bought it."

"Is that so? With all those credits you don't have?"

"...I found it."

Zacharie sighed. They know nothing of lies either. How has the world come to this? "Very well. I am keeping this."

"What? N-no! It's mine!" the Elsen shouted, voice shrill and angry.

"Pardon?" Zacharie blinked. "You handed it to me, did you not? Therefore, it belongs to me."

The Elsen quivered, indecisive. Then, they lunged. They grabbed Zacharie by the collar of his turtleneck and jerked him forward. While small and thin, the Elsen was strong from their work in the smoke mines.

Taken by surprise, Zacharie dropped the gun, and it clattered on the countertop. He let out a startled grunt, before composing himself once more. "Now, amigo, this isn't like you. Why not let this go?"

Though the gun was now well within their reach, the Elsen only frowned and tightened their grip around Zacharie's neck.

Zacharie tried to remind himself that, as only a figment of coding within the infrastructure of a program, he had no need to breathe. However, this whole situation was terribly uncomfortable. The merchant realized, with annoyance and apprehension, he would have to do something drastic, and go on some quest to find out what was wrong with this world.

His hand travelled under the counter, where his previously unused sword lay, and he wondered what he was getting himself into.

This is my first attempt at an OFF fanfic, so please leave a review if you get the chance, thank you!