NOTE: The following is a fan fiction story based in the story universe created by Ernest Cline for his novel Ready Player One. This is not meant to be a commercial piece, nor is any revenue being drawn for the creation of this piece. The following fan fiction story contains spoilers for Ready Player One and is highly recommended you support the official release prior to reading this story.

Live To Tell

A Ready Player One Fan Fiction Story

by CB2001

I was never interested in the Egg Hunt. For years, I've had a decent job from before the crash of the job market, residing in what is 'middle class' these days. Most people have it bad and some manage to have it somewhat better than others. Having money and owning the OASIS sounded fun. But there'd be nothing keeping me from becoming like Halliday in his last years. That thought alone scared the hell out of me. I was happy with what I had. Money and fame wouldn't have made it any better. Besides, I had the brief experience with the fame thing, which didn't make me happy anyway. Wade Watts can at least say he has it way better than how he started. But, it appears that he appreciates those that help him. Everyone makes the claim that they were there on Chthonia that day. But you can tell the fakes from the real ones because their accounts show it. I've had a lot of people asking me what the Grey Squad was and the significance of the door icon in my achievements. While others who were there talk about how great the battle was, I am one of the few who finds it hard to talk about. That's my personality and not my lack of ability to talk or anything. Now, I'm finally putting a finger to keyboard to tell my side of the events of that battle, as many others before me.

It was the day before the battle and I had made it to my house at around nine o'clock at night. I pulled the shutter over the door up high enough for me to unlock the steel door and enter the house. I took a moment to pull the shutter back down and lock the shutter and the door into place, each with three locks. My dad had long since bricked up the windows to ensure no one could break in. I was around eleven-years-old when he did that and things started to get bad. It had been my home since I was a child. It was one of the few things left of my parents, who died two years before the announcement of the Egg Hunt during the food coupon riots that broke out here in Tallahassee. They weren't a part of the riot but were one of the few who fell victim while in line to get their regular food coupons. When the Third Gate was discovered, I was 35 years old and didn't have any other family. The only friends I had were either from work or in the OASIS, including my former Ragewar teammates. I had converted my old bedroom into my office, where my computer was.

Along one wall, there was a long piece of wood I had cut to length to use as my desk. My computer (a scratch built all in one unit inspired by the Apple-II), an old Hologram Pyramid I constructed to look at 3D models in the real world, my wireless OASIS visor and haptic gloves resided on it. I also had my electronics repair area at the far end in the corner, which allowed me to work on things when I needed to. On the other walls of my room, wired and wooden racks holding items of my collection. I had a lot of items: action figures, lunch boxes, board games and prop replicas (a perk of being a Legacy member of the Replica Prop Forum). The items ranged from items of my childhood to as far back as my grandfather's childhood. I have a very wide pallet when it comes to the decades of my interests. Some of the stuff included items from the 1980s, during the childhood of both my parents. If Halliday had come over, he might have liked my small collection. I'm not sure if he'd like the mint on card TNG Cadet Wesley Crusher figure, autographed by Wil Wheaton himself. He could have liked my dad's Knight Rider Michael Knight action figure and KITT vehicle by Kenner. Those are ultra-rare nowadays and I even made a digital copy for my online store. I had a DIY motion capture rig that I set up in the room. Several motion sensors were set up on four tripods I constructed from conduit piping. The sensors resided in each corner of the room and aimed into the center, giving a full coverage of the area. I use this rig for making animations and creating items in the OASIS. It's also useful for testing our peripherals and some of the scratch built rigs I do.

Few people know about how some of the older stuff can be re-purposed for low-tech OASIS rigs. For the neighborhood, I often did some repair work on OASIS rigs. I even did home-brewed rigs on my off time away from the OASIS and work. I often donate some of them to those less fortunate without any charge. This included some of the children in the neighborhood. The living room of my house was now occupied by towers of plastic binds, comprised of computer parts or some electronics needing repair inside them. Low-tech had a greater feel to them, and in some cases, even better than the high-priced rigs. Part of the reason why I was able to dominate in online battles was due to my hardware. I would use a broken PlayStation Motion controller that I hacked to create a graphics wand. This was useful for building items for me. I had a glove rig I hacked together from back when I was at FSU before it closed its doors for the last time. But I had long since upgraded to commercial wireless haptic gloves, along with my visor. I booted up my computer system and had plans on getting to work on my next item to sell on my online store. Of course, I would do that after I checked on the sells of my last item: early 1980s RCA TV set in a wooden console. I had uploaded it two days prior and hadn't checked to see if any sold. But, as soon as my OS loaded up I got the following message through the OASIS' Off System IM program: Hey, old-timer. Hope you're still as good as you used to be. - Aech

I was surprised to find that he had sent me the IM. I was familiar with Aech from my FPS days but didn't know him any more than potential competition. While I was on my last few months of playing competitive, he was on his first few and had already made his way up in the rankings to the point where people were hoping that he and I would cross paths in either solo or group battle. He showed a lot of promise, even though at the time I knew of him, he was a young and cocky bastard. Some people started comparing our rivalry to that of the movie Top Gun, between Maverick and Iceman. And if I had to put money on it, Aech would have been Maverick. He even went as far to IM me a few times in an attempt to draw me into a one-on-one battle to see who was the best. Aech even said that it'd only have to be between the two of us. But, I kept refusing. Even after I had retired, he kept IMing me once in a while, hoping that I'd take up the offer. Then, he got involved with the Egg Hunt, which distracted him and everyone else from such a match.

I saw the attachment, opening it. It was a message to the gunters, a call to arms from what remained of The High Five. There was a message to all to meet at the Third Gate, which was at Castle Anorak on Chthonia. The IOI, the biggest enemy to all users of the OASIS, was a stone throw away from claiming it. I wasn't a gunter. I was a builder. A builder who so happened to know how to kick some heavy ass. And I was given a choice. I had to ask myself the following question: What would Brian Boitano do? After pushing aside the South Park quote, I began to weigh my options. The message said that the meeting was for the next day. Aech had sent this message to me and knowing him, he did it because he knew that the best fighters needed to be there. He singled me out, like a heat-seeking smart bullet made by Dr. Charles Luther. I began thinking of the less fortunate in my area, those who couldn't afford a lot of food. And even kids who were using the home-brewed rigs I gave them at no cost. A monthly subscription would have taken away any chance of a life the people had, even if it wasn't much at that point. I couldn't say no.

I called my boss and friend, Brett, telling him I wouldn't be at work tomorrow. It was one of the rarest of occasions I called into work at Engrossment Peripheral Company for time off. The last time before that moment was before my retirement from FPS competition. The company started off its existence as a Make group when I attended FSU. The group was on the ground floor of some of the VR peripherals used today. Our smell simulator tower, to which I had a hand in coding and building, was still one of our best sellers. Brett Alden was a rather hefty man. He had curly blond hair and wore clothes that made him look like he was a member of a '90s grunge band. On his off time, he was a gunter. He was one of the few that had been at the Tomb of Horrors to hurl every weapon and vulgarity he could muster at the Sixers. And he had already seen the message.

"I'm already sending a mass message to the entire company. I'm letting them know we're having the day off to join in the fight," he told me. "This is definitely going to be one of those historical defining moments."

After getting off the phone with him, I decided to get online. I pulled the visor onto my face, seeing the display screen awaiting my passcode. I smirked as I gave it off.

"Smoke me a kipper, I'll be back for breakfast."

Identity verification successful.

Welcome back, Daedalus Tigerheart!

When I loaded, I found myself standing in the last place I was in when I logged out: my garage. My house in the OASIS was a simple two-story beach house. It rested on the corner of a small chain of islands on a planet covered by islands called Xanadu. The corner I occupied in OASIS is a small plot of land, but it was what I called home. My avatar was sporting blue jeans, Chuck Taylor's and a black T-shirt with a small white skull on it. I gave the avatar a permanent five o'clock shadow and short hair, both black in color. I tried to model my avatar after me as much as I could, but I could never get the eyes adjusted to match. For some odd reason, my avatar's eyes always look sad in comparison to mine. I did get the heterochromia effect like mine, with one brown and one blue. Some people told me that my avatar looked like Elijah Wood as he looked in the movie The Faculty. Looking at my avatar, watching the film and looking in the mirror, I can't see how people draw that comparison. I made my way out of the garage, around and up to the front door of my beach house, stepping inside. I heard a loud growl, which caused me to chuckle to myself.

"Hey, Hobbes," I said as I made my way upstairs. I didn't even care that he was laying on my couch and watching something on the first iteration of my wooden TV. I could hear an episode of The Starlost was playing. The episode that played involving Magnus the computer.

Hobbes, as you may have guessed, is a virtual pet I created. He was the first item I ever created that was more than decor or furniture. He was a crystal-skinned tiger that looked almost holographic. He still retained the much of the look of a real Bengal tiger. I named him Hobbes after a plush tiger I had as a little kid, to which my dad named after a comic strip. I still had the original plush Hobbes. He had long since become tattered, torn and sewn back together. And retired in a bin one of the closets of my house in real life. But it was of him that lead me to use the name Tigerheart as a part of my username. And when I created him, Hobbes came to my mind. Hobbes is a pet, a friend and he's my home security while I'm offline. No one messes with a man with a pet tiger, especially one like Hobbes. I had loaded him with a lot of custom scripts. He's not some figure with animations. He has security scripts, defensive scripts and companion scripts. The companion scripts control an extra character and making them perform certain actions. I knew I was going to need Hobbes, but first, I needed to get packed up.

I made my way into my digital office, which I had modeled the layout like my real-world room. The big difference was that there weren't as many shelves. I have a storage unit installed on one of the walls, which took up a lot of space. It could be mistaken as a modern redesign of the containment unit from Ghostbusters. Many users are stuck with the confines of whatever they can stuff into their inventory. For builders, it's a major pain in the ass, as large objects can take up your entire inventory. If you needed anything else, it would end up delivered to your designated home inventory. And that delivery would often be at a hundred dollars per large item. This had lead many builders who sell their items on the market to double the pricing. For me, I found a workaround, which is part of the reason why I am able to keep my prices more affordable. I picked up my duffel bag, pulling the unit's drawer open and throwing it into the tray. I pushed the drawer back into place, touching the screen. After a few taps on the flat panel screen, I found the section for my armory. I transferred every weapon and piece of armor I had into the duffel bag. I also switched to my scripts section, my healing items, and special use items, loading them in as well.

You know how to pull off the bigger on the inside trick for recreations of the TARDIS from Doctor Who? A compression script allows for a large room on the inside to compress into a smaller box on the outside. Take that same script, change it and attach a menu to it. When you put it into a model of a duffel bag, you end up with one hell of an expansive inventory. You could put something the size of three semi trucks inside and still have room. Never again would you have to worry about exporting costs. It even puts the Bag of Holding to shame. I had two of the storage units: one in my office and one in the garage. Both allowed me access to the inventory from both areas should I need them. Mary Poppins would be proud. After the transfer was complete, I pulled the drawer out and retrieved the bag. When I placed it into my inventory slot, the model of the bag showed up on my avatar's back. I made my way downstairs to the living room, finding Hobbes still watching the TV.

"Hobbes, derez," I gave the command.

Hobbes began to fold into himself until all the only thing left was a transparent orange cube. I picked it up, putting it into my inventory. I knew I needed to get off Xanadu. I was lucky that the realtor agency I rented my land from had a space station for spacecraft storage. It resided on the orbiting moon and required a teleportation pad to get there. They couldn't afford a teleporter that allowed you to jump anywhere in the OASIS for some reason. I had to rez the jet ski to get over to the middle section of the isles. I rode past the other lots of land that ocean separated from one another. It took a few minutes to reach the island that served as a common area. Among a picnic area, a dancing area and bar, there was the teleporter pad. The teleporter pad had a limited distance, meaning there wouldn't be a charge to use it. As soon as I stepped onto it, the pad detected my avatar. Within three seconds, I found myself no longer standing on the pad at the island. I was in Ragnar Anchorage, a giant domed structure with a massive opening out into space at the far end. I looked up to catch the view of Xanadu from orbit, it reminded me of a classic NASA photo of the Earth from the moon. I got back on task, stepping off the pad and head to where my spacecraft was. When I had my original tour, they explained small craft would be in storage in stacks under the surface of the moon.

As I walked, I recognized a lot of the assets used to make the base. But I tried to focus on getting to my ship. Most people would have gone for a spacecraft from a popular franchise. For me, I had an SA-43 Hammerhead with the AI C.O.R.A. installed for my main transport. I ran the math through my head, trying to figure out how many jump gates I'd need to go through to get where I needed. I also knew that it was going to be expensive, but necessary. The pricing of the fuel would be a pain in the ass for flying to the nearest jump gate itself. As I approached the launch area, I found a few avatars huddled in a small group. They were all complaining to a single avatar in an orange jumpsuit. I recognized him as one of the base's staff. I knew that they were like me, trying to get a head start to Chthonia before the numbers swelled.

"I'm sorry, but it'll take time for us to repair," he tried to tell the others. The sounds of anger from the group almost drowning him out as I came up.

"What's going on?" I asked.

A bald-headed, pale skinned male avatar turned to look at me. I made the mistake that the user was trying for an alien avatar, something in the vein of the movie Dark City. The thing that told me that I was mistaken was the avatar had clothing choices didn't match what was in the film. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, shorts and sandals.

"There's a glitch with the launcher," he told me, crossing his arms. From the tone of his voice, I could get that he wasn't in the best of moods. "We can't launch any small personal vehicles from storage for the next few hours."

"Damn," I muttered, as I began to head towards the loading docks.

I knew the only other option was the Douglas Adams' approach: hitching a ride. I figured the external airlocks for much larger spacecraft that may still be functioning. I made my way down the nearest arm, finding several others doing the same as well. I could hear some of the others asking as they were moving along if they were heading in the direction of Chthonia. I tried a few times, asking as many as I could come across. I spotted a Browncoat and ignored him as I ran by. For all you newbies to the OASIS, never take an offer for a ride or ask for a ride from a Browncoat. The entire Firefly fan base over the years lost the meaning of the franchise. They've become worse than space pirates. Hearing about Parzival stealing a Firefly-class ship from them wasn't without justified irony. I stopped and asked a Kilrathi for a lift, but the user, a dedicated RPer, cussed at me in their language and snarled. The next two I asked turned out to be a couple of space-faring prostitutes offering a ride of the other kind.

I, along with five others, finally managed to get a lift. I had missed a UD-4 Cheyenne Dropship that had taken off. Even if I had caught it, they were used in conjunction with a Conestoga-class troop transport. Those were too slow for sublight and too big for a jump gate. This left me approaching two avatars looking like they came from the Abrams version of Star Trek. I wasn't a fan of Abrams like everyone else. His work lacked substance and everyone knew he was a horrible storyteller. Despite his admitting it in his own autobiography, there were those who hung on to the idea that he was a misunderstood genius. I knew I had to swallow my dislike if I was going to get to where I needed to. But, as I approached them, I heard a male's voice, speaking with a thick Russian accent.

"Eh!" The voice drew my attention to the avatar. He dressed as like a wasteland scavenger from the movie Hardware. He had long brown hair that covered half of his face. He motioned for me to look out the nearby window next to him. "To 'ell with dat Abrams piece of shit! Dat's my ride."

The craft he directed my sight to was a perfect recreation of the Raza from the TV show Dark Matter. It even had an NPC of the show's blonde Android, modeled after Canadian actress Zoie Palmer, who helped the crew that occupied it. It was a certain surprise because the fan base for that show was non-existent. Also rarely would you see a Raza anywhere in the OASIS. He had constructed it himself, as there wasn't one available on the OASIS market. The craft was going to use FTL in a seven-hour jump to get to Sector Nine. From there, we'd run sub-light for the last hour into Sector Ten. That meant we had to travel there within an eight-hour trip. Even with the credits each of us ponied up for fuel, rooms, and compensation, it was necessary. We couldn't risk dropping out of FTL right into the surface of the planet. That meant I was going to have to leave my avatar logged in while the trip was being made.

The Russian called himself Seed Hawke. He explained that after we got out of FTL, we were going to be going through Peacekeeper space first. Following that would be Minbari space and Dimension C-137. The last leg of the trip would be through Martian Congressional Republic space. He informed us he had a friend who was captain of the Mark Watney and she'd escort the Raza to the end of MCR space and within eyesight of Chthonia. Secured in the room I was shacking up in, I reached into my inventory and attached my headphones to my avatar's head. I followed it with my first generation Microsoft Zune. I attached it to my avatar's hip and started to scan the Internet radio frequencies. There wasn't much on, except someone's attempt at recreating Happy Harry from Pump Up The Volume. After switching to the storage, Gunship's "Tech Noir" began to play. It started with the high synth tone, the voice of John Carpenter doing the opening narration. My mind had the tendency to wander about in the past in regards to music. I couldn't help but think about the songs my parents introduced me to. Watching the whole world as it used to be slowly slipping away over the years sucked. Now, like my parents, it was nothing more than a memory forgotten by everyone except for me.

I took some time to check out a couple of the profiles of the users who were on the Raza with me. I wanted to see what kind of players I was traveling with, worried about a Chaotic Bad seed being among us. After a while I checked my real-world clock, seeing that it was 11:34 PM. For OASIS time, it on the time zone of the GSS offices in Columbus, Ohio. So, given the fact that it was on the East Coast, I was in the same time zone as the OASIS itself. I hated that I had to keep my character logged in until reaching Chthonia. If there was a bad apple among us, there wasn't keeping someone from killing everyone while we slept in RL. Even Seed and his crew made me worried, as there was nothing keeping them from doing what the same. I checked out his profile to discover that Seed was a Templar with a very high ranking of Lawful Good. His six-man crew was riding the line, but seem to follow their captain's lead. If you can't trust a Lawful Good, then who can you trust?

The other passengers seemed to be clear to me. But, to be sure, I pulled out the orange cube that was Hobbes and rezzed him back, setting him to protect mode. If anyone stepped in, they were gonna get a fight they never expected to encounter. After getting my character seated in bed, I set him to AFK. I had custom animations that made it look like my character pulled out a book or a comic to read. The notation of "Away" would appear above my username to let those know I was not behind the controls. I had programmed in various covers for at least twenty books, two dozen graphic novels and eighteen comics titles of various issues. As I was away, the character's animation would have him go through whatever book or comic he pulled out. When reaching the end, it then switches to another book, comic book or graphic novel. This time, it pulled out a comic called Evil Ernie vs. The Movie Monsters! from the late, great Chaos! Comics. I pulled off my visor, rubbing the grit out of my eyes. I made my way to my bed, not even bothering to pull my clothes off before climbing in.

I awoke to the sound of thunder from outside my window, finding the irony of me wanting to hum a song from 1962 after doing so. I reached over to turn on my bedside lamp, staring at it for a few moments, wondering if I had a dream or not. I sat up and pulled my shirt off, the sweat causing the shirt to stick to my skin as I pulled the fabric away from me. I found my way to the bathroom to take a shower and got into a new set of clothes while I waited for the storm to pass. I pulled on my faded Battle Royale T-shirt and cotton blue plaid pajama bottoms. I'm proud to admit that's what I wore in the real world. Those who are long-time gamers like myself understand one thing: if you're going to be playing for hours, you might as well be comfortable. Those that remember my career as an FPS gamer will know that some of the best victories I've had have often been in this clothing choice for years. Everyone may be going for the haptic suits and such. Me, I'm okay with the level of immersion that I'm accustomed to.

As I made my way into my office, I knew with the upcoming fight that I was going to need the advantage. I made my way over to the closet door and opened, remembering which of the green bins I placed it in. I pulled the bottom left bin out and popped the lid. Several of my older hacked together rigs were still resting. The early days of the OASIS rigs were with cabling. For the rig I was digging out, it had been with me during a lot of online battling and various types of games. Zombies, aliens, mutants, killer robots, mechs... this rig had controlled my avatar through the games in the OASIS. The battle rig was a box the size of an old iPad with several buttons on the top of it. I designed it to sit on my lap while being connected via USB 11.0 cable to my computer. It acted like most of the keyboard controls that my father and I played when I was a kid. But it has small sets of keys that allowed for player controls on the left of it and menu/actions on the right. With the rig plugged in, I would use my head to aim. I would use my feet to spin me around on the swivel chair to check behind me if need be. The cable for the rig was fifteen feet long. This gave me plenty of slack without the risk of pulling the cable from the computer or the rig off my lap. And I still had use of the haptic gloves if needed.

Now, most would think the concept of using such a rig would be out of date. But, every wireless haptic glove controls have a delay rate. Many believe the delay rate for wireless gloves is equal one to one with hand movements when most are actually off by a half a second. Pushing buttons on a hard-wired control gives me about a fraction of second response advantage. In battle, every response counts. A quicker response could mean the difference between remaining in the game or getting knocked out. A fraction ahead of an enemy's response time is better than nothing. Pushing buttons works quicker than throwing actual punches and kicks. And a majority of the older games released before the existence of the OASIS and adopted were designed to have tactile controls.

I dug out my haptic vest from the closet, which helped me feel if my avatar was getting hit, allowing me to respond. If you're getting hit from behind you're gonna want to know and react. I hadn't used either in years, and it felt like a soldier brushing off his old uniform for another battle. I sat them on the work desk while I moved over to my computer, carrying the cables to connect both in. I pulled my desk chair back into the middle of the room before I pulled the vest and tighten the straps on it. I knew I was going to have to get used to the controls again. From that point on, some of the movement had to be with the battle rig. I picked up both the rig and my visor after putting on my haptic gloves, finally taking a seat. It took me a moment to push past the nostalgia of wearing the vest and holding the rig in my lap once more. The last time I had used both of them was during my final team deathmatch with Ragewar. It took me a moment to collect myself before I pulled my visor on.

My avatar was still okay, still residing in the temporary quarters on board the Raza. I turned off the AFK, my avatar putting away a copy of Earth 2 by Melissa Crandall. I got my avatar up from the bed using glove controls first. After taking a moment to change Hobbes' defensive settings to friendly, I switched over to the battle rig to take my character out of the room. He remained close as we went. It was a bit disorienting at first when it came to the moving because I hadn't done any of the rotating with my feet in a while. It was like coming back to a video game you used to play and hadn't played in years. I was trying to figure out what button did what and getting oriented to the actions of controlling the character once more. After much trial and error, and several bumping into corners in the corridors of the ship, I had finally found myself at the bridge of the Raza. The Android turned around from the front viewport as if sensing that I was in the area.

"Hello, Mister Tigerheart," the Android spoke with her almost childlike voice. She took a moment to look down and lock eyes with Hobbes before looking back up at me. "That's a beautiful tiger you have. Is there something I can assist you with?"

"How long until we reach Chthonia?"

"We are fifteen minutes away from orbit."

I checked my clock, seeing that it was still four hours until noon. I had a feeling that there was going to be a sizable amount of users on the planet already, and that the numbers were going to swell as the clock got closer and closer.

"Thank you," I told the Android as I turned and left the bridge.

I continued to get used to the battle rig's controls once more. I found my way back to the room, using nothing but the rig and my legs to spin me around. I finally felt accustomed to them again. Once in the room, I moved my duffel bag over to the bed, pulling up the inventory. I knew the best thing to do was to get suited up. I decided to put on a Crysis Nanosuit with the arm and leg armor from the Praetor suit of the 2016 reboot of Doom. For my headgear, a Defiant Few Assault Gear helmet from Defiance with the old FSU Latin slogan "Vires, Artes, Mores" in black Bank Sans font printed on the silver trim above the visor. I put the helmet into my inventory, as I wasn't ready to use it yet. I switched back to my haptic glove controls, derezzed Hobbes back into his cube form and pocketed him into my inventory before heading out of the room.

I met the others on the bridge, getting the orbital view of Chthonia. One of the women was dressed as Marty McFly from Back To The Future. Another woman in a chrome-colored body suit invoked the image of the SilverHawks toy line to me. One of the guys had what appeared to be a screen accurate outfit to Ryan Gosling's character from Drive (with an awesome looking screen accurate jacket with the Scorpion on it). The last two had on outfits that reminded me of my Lazer Tag lunchbox, though they actually weren't the same outfits. You could see that the area where Castle Anorak resided was still in the dark, the light from the nearest star cresting over the horizon of the planet, light creeping its way over some of the landmasses. When it came to each planet, I knew that each one had a different sun cycle that the main creator of the planet would set. What everyone knew of Chthonia, Halliday had his planet set to have a long night and a short daytime. From what I've heard others tell me, Halliday had it set like that because he always felt his creativity was more active during the night than it was during the day. I could spot a few spacecraft of varying types in orbit, from small to massive as we approached.

It was at that moment, I heard the chime from my inbox, causing me to open it and see a new IM to me from a familiar name.

H0xle (pronounced as "Hoxley"): Hey there, Boss!

Daedalus Tigerheart: Don't call me 'Boss'. I haven't been that for a while. How goes it?

H0xle: It goes well. Got the notice you were in the area. Where are you?

Daedalus Tigerheart: In orbit. About to come in for a landing shortly. Where are you?

H0xle: With the others near Castle Anorak. Bring your Hammerhead in for a landing and I'll add you to the group so you can find us.

Daedalus Tigerheart: Not on the Hammerhead. Launcher at Ragnar Anchorage glitched. Had to catch a lift.

H0xle: You gonna do a Soft Landing?

Daedalus Tigerheart: No.

H0xle: Surfing Doolittle?

Daedalus Tigerheart: Nope. Be down shortly.

I closed the IM and turned my attention back to Seed as he came in and took a seat at one of the consoles, his crew already occupying the other seats.

"Will we be taking a shuttle down or something?" the woman in the chrome colored body suit asked.

"Dis is da Raza," Seed told her before turning to the Android. "Take us down."

"Proceeding with inter-atmosphere landing," the Android replied. "Everyone brace yourselves."

I put on the headphones on my avatar and reattaching the Microsoft Zune. "Justified & Ancient" by The KLF featuring Tammy Wynette began blasting through my headphones as the Raza began to descend into the atmosphere. My haptic gloves and vest began to convey the shaking that the ship was feeling as it punched into the oxygen. The amount of traffic in the air was minimal at the time, including not much in orbit to interfere with the landing. Even from the air, you could see the glow of lights from the ground. Some were easy to tell as lights from spacecraft and vehicles. Others were fires scattered among the darkness. It invoked a shot from the documentary Koyaanisqatsi to me, Los Angeles at night towards the end, the image of the city lit through electric lights and burning bright like stars burning through a black blanket covering the landscape. Once closer, it looked like what had once been a lush forest had been converted into a flat wasteland, reminding me of the Mad Max franchise for some reason. As we reached the surface, the music was almost at its end. The final touchdown was a bit rough, but we had reached the surface without much risk and without damage.

The others had plans on taking an SUV that was in the Raza's storage bay. As I departed the ship, I reached into the duffel bag and pulled out my school bus yellow '71 Mustang Sportsroof, which was the same scale as the Kenner KITT, sitting it down on the ground. The version I have was restyled to look like the 1973 Mustang. I access the HUD for it, bringing it up to full size and climbed in. One of the most intense feelings you could have to wear the haptic gloves and vest was cranking the car up, the vibrations giving you an idea of how powerful that digital V8 engine of such a beast was. With a twist of the knob on the radio, which was also tied into my mp3 folder like my Zune. Peter Wolf Crier's "Hard As Nails" played through the sound system of the car, blaring through my headphones. I pulled up the in-game map of the planet, marked the waypoint and kicked the Mustang into gear. It was a ten minute trip from where we landed, following the rolling hills by the long path that had been cut. As I approached, could see the giant shield on the mini-map and the castle right in the middle of it, "Heroes" by David Bowie playing over the radio at that point.

I also saw patches of white sitting on the perimeter of the castle, most around the front of it. I noticed a small green speck that most people would miss among the patches of white. I opened up the voice chat option finding the Ragewar group chat already opened. I pinged it, knowing that one of them would add me, which I was added in an instant. I plotted my path through the small groups that had gathered as I made my way towards the green dot. I slowed the car as I got within a few feet of the group. I came to a stop, spotting the familiar avatars of my friends and old teammates of Team Ragewar. Team Ragewar consisted of five members, not including me. I got my avatar out of the Mustang, using the HUD to shrink it back down to the Kenner toy size before pocketing it into my inventory. As I approached, the members of Ragewar noticed me.

"Hey Boss," H0xle repeat.

H0xle was a Brit IRL at the same age as me. He went with an avatar that looked like he was a twenty-something posh WWII Colonel with matching brown hair and brown mustache to boot. He told me how he grew up with a father who was fascinated with World War II, and that fascination passed onto him. It reminded me much of my father and I. He even showed me a picture of some of his artifacts from the war, including a rare Nazi coin, which was kinda surprising. H0xle also enjoyed participating in many World War II battles on Planet COD. It appeared that he had geared himself up with Mjolnir armor in place of his typical soldier uniform.

"I told you, don't call me Boss," I repeated to him.

It was at that moment, I got picked up off my feet by our tank. I could hear him chuckling from behind me.

"Wazzup, brotha!?" his voice bellowed.

"Hey Cochise," I replied, as I laughed.

Cochise Meanstreak was a twenty-seven-year-old Native American from Tennessee. He worked as an IT tech guy for a family-owned electronics store franchise. In the game, he was a warrior and one of the best ones I knew. His avatar for some odd reason reminded me of the character of Billy from the film Predator. I couldn't be sure if it was the long black hair he had with the bandana wrapped around his head, or more than likely, his avatar's jawline. The thing that impressed me about Cochise was that he was a Master Blaster at not only at gaming, but he was a pretty impressive OASIS coder. Cochise sported black leather pants, a black wife-beater, boots and a massive amount of tattoos on his arms. He looked quite like a bad-ass biker, and he even has a Corley motorcycle to go with it (as everyone knows: "Can't beat a Corley!"), and the only visible armor he had on at that moment was what looked to be a kevlar vest.

He sat me down, with me noticing both our the blonde female apocalyptic gunslinger, our resident wizard samurai and our Vodou priestess.

"Hey Sinny," I said.

"Howdy there, fella," she said as she tipped her dark-brown Stetson at me.

Sinthiana of Gilead ('Sinny') was a forty-three-year-old transgendered woman. She was a male to female conversion, from Austin, Texas. She was one of the last few who managed to get the procedure before all elective surgeries became non-existent and the only surgeries performed were all life-saving ones. We didn't care if she was a guy or gal. She was an awesome gunslinger that would at least give the best a bit of a run for their money and a part of the Ragewar family nonetheless. In RL she worked at a call center for the government offices that handle the food coupon distribution. She also participated in BDSM in the OASIS. She came in her usual ass-kicking outfit, a black button-up shirt with a color matching long duster, black slacks and cowboy boots, with female voice modulation.

"Hey Isamu, Esther."

"Hello-Daed-san," replied Isamu, the voice synthesis translating his typed text.

Isamu was always broadcasting live from Okinawa of the Ryukyu Islands in Japan, a longtime fisherman in his family's business. Despite the region he was in, he liked a lot of the American pop culture a lot more than what his country offered. The reason for the text-to-speech program was because a few years before this event, he was assaulted on his way home one night. The attacker crushed his voice box and the only thing that the attacker stole was a 3 gig USB drive from him. To communicate with us, he used a text-to-speech program for normal conversations. He also used a soundboard with clips from various forms of media during battles. His avatar was a high-ranking wizard and master swordsman. He had short white hair and a matching white beard, but still retained much of his Japanese ethnicity. He wore a grey colored tactical vest and what he told me was called a hakama and obi (both black and white striped), and what looked to be combat boots. He didn't look like he had on exterior armor, but knowing him, I knew he often armored up on all protection spells to handle everything from bullets to dragon fire.

Our Vodou priestess, Esther Meao, was a Haitian. We could never get a straight answer about what she did for a living in real life or how old she was (I always suspected she was older than any of us. Sinny suspected that she's actually as old as I am. The only thing we did know was that she did practice Vodou as a religion like her ancestors before her. Her avatar in the OASIS used mystical powers to help us out during certain skirmishes, especially her ability to resurrect the recently deceased after dying within a five-second window. She was also a hell of a good shot, sporting a Winchester repeating rifle modified to hold fifty rounds of poisonous ammo. When three rounds were fired into the same user, it would turn said targets into voodoo zombies she could control for about three minutes. Her avatar was a slender, attractive mid-thirties woman, dark-skinned, always sporting white make-up on her face that looks like a skull. Her character had dreadlocks and wore a headpiece that looked like a mohawk comprised of feathers. It matched her shaman shoulder pelts and belt. She rounded it off with a vintage velvet corset and a short skirt. And I knew for certain she had several protection spells in place for her armor.

"Bonjou, Daedalus," Esther responded, flashing a wicked smile that always sent a chill up my spine.

"Looks like the band's back together, eh?" I asked as I approached the fire that they were standing around.

"Wasn't expectin' to see you, Daed," Sinny told me. "Things going well with being a builder?"

"Yeah. The store's doing well. I was going to continue working on a new item when that young punk Aech sent me an IM with the message to the gunters."

"He singled you out, eh?" Cochise spoke. "He's got it in for you, brotha. Even though you're retired, he's still been asking about you."

"Honestly, chap," H0xle spoke up. "Why don't you just agree to a one-on-one, so that he can finally put that issue to bed? You don't even have to win it."

"You really don't have anything to prove, Daedalus," Esther chimed in. "You are a better warrior and have no need to prove yourself to a youngling."

"I'm retired, guys and ladies. And with good reason."

"Speaking-of-reason," Isamu typed and the system translated. "She-happens-to-be-here."

I already knew right away about who he was referring to. Many of you OASIS users and live deathmatch/team deathmatch/CTF fans have assumed over the years that I left because I got burnt out. That is somewhat true, but not in the way you all think. I won't go into it, but you'll shortly know of the person Isamu referred to in a short moment. We continued to hang out by the fire, taking some time to catch up before finally placing my duffel bag down.

"Gentlemen and ladies," I began. "I've brought my own private arsenal for this fight. Y'all may find the following pieces useful to you. Keep in mind, these aren't exactly OASIS combat certified weaponry. I wasn't expecting to break these out for use."

I accessed the menu and retrieved the first two items from the bag, pulling out two slightly big automatic pistols with an under barrel attachment, light gray in color with red buttons the size of dimes on the under barrel attachment on each side.

"For our lady gunslinger," I explained as I pulled out a pair of blasters. "The GunCons. Modeled after the Namco NPC-103. Comes with single action firing, as well as semi-auto and full auto rapid firing. The big red buttons are for last chance hits. Pressing it gives you one last blast with the same critical damage as a 10-gauge double barrel shotgun firing both barrels at once. And the best part, it's programmed with nine-hundred and ninety-nine round magazines with no reload interruptions. That means you can fire off all the rounds and it won't reload until the clip is registered as empty, and without the reload animation, it reloads without the motion. No way to get caught on the reload."

I handed them over to her, Sinny taking a moment to examine the weapons I handed to her. She held out of each of them, checking out the crosshairs first, akimbo style. She placed her Colts back into her inventory, placing the GunCons into the holsters on her hips.

"I like the weight on them," she told me. "The crosshairs are good, too."

"Cochise," I stated as I pulled out the next item from my inventory. "This should be right up your alley."

I pulled out one of the biggest weapons I've ever, the weapon four feet long and greebled in detail.

"Phased Plasma Rifle with a 40-watt range," I explained. "Similar settings as the GunCon, with eighty rounds in the magazine and minimal reload issues. It acts like a mini-gun, and comes with a power pack that you wear on your back."

I handed Cochise the main cannon while setting the pack, a small cylinder shape power plant, on the ground at his feet.

"I modeled it after the one from the RoboCop vs. The Terminator comic. Between semi-auto and full auto mode, there's also a big blast mode. You can get a major punch by switching to single fire, pulling and holding the trigger for five sections, then releasing the trigger. Packs a hell of a punch. The drawback to using it is that it will have heating issues with a ten-second cool-down if you use it. I couldn't find a way around that."

Cochise chuckled as he actually brought the cannon up to look down the barrel. I could see the giant smile on his face. I knew he was a long time Terminator fan except for Terminator 3, Terminator Salvation (he liked the Terminator Salvation: The Machinima Series, though), Terminator Genysis and on forward. But he loved a lot of the Dark Horse comics, so I'm sure he knew of RoboCop vs. The Terminator and the plasma rifle I mentioned.

"Brotha," he began to say as he looked at me. "This is one of the best weapons I've ever seen. The Resistance would be proud."

I pulled out the next weapon. The weapon was almost shaped like a sniper rifle with the body made of wood, the exception being the barrel at the front indicated it was an SMG. The magazine loaded into the side port towards the front of the wooden body, right where the barrel and the body meet.

"For our Support person," I handed over the vintage SMG to H0xle. "The Lanchester sub-machine gun. I tried to apply the same mods with ammo and reload, but it kept glitching as a result. So, you have a 45 round magazine with many firing modes. But this SMG has tripled the stopping power of the highest level SMG currently available. Extra features, being able to switch between incendiary ammo and regular ammo by using the switch on the right side of the gun above the trigger. So, if you run out of regular rounds, switch to incendiary and it'll act like it's still got more rounds in there to fire until it registers empty and reloads."

I handed it over to him. I could see his face light up with glee, as I remember he always wanted to have one of them in his inventory. It reminded me of Christmas day with my family once upon a time.

"Jolly good, Boss," he said to me holding the gun up and looking down the sights and then lowers it. "Thank you, Daed."

I turned to Isamu to pitch to him my Hattori Hanzo sword. It had better strength, critical hit points, and more slicing power than a Lightsaber. But our samurai wizard held his hand up and shook his head before typing out his response.

"Thank-you-for-your-offer-Daed-San," the voice synthesis translated. "I-have-my-own-blade."

"And I prefer my weapon," Esther followed suit.

I nodded in response, and I understood. They preferred their weapons, the ones they had used for years, over something that I had built. And I would do the same if I were in their position. It reminded me of my early days on the OASIS where the only things I could carry were what I had in my inventory. It wasn't because I couldn't carry anything else. Most of the items I carried was because I felt like I could trust them from having to use them. I guess the feeling is like driving a car that is not the same one you drive or wearing someone else's shirt. So, I couldn't fault either of them for sticking with a blade or rifle and armor setup that they'd used as far back before I met either of them. I left my bag on the ground, setting it for all the Ragewar group to access. I retrieved one of my items from the special items section.

"If you all want to check to see what other items of use you guys want to borrow, you can check the inventory of the bag," I told them. "The menu is easy to use. I'm gonna head up to high ground, see if I can get a better look at our opposition."

I made my way up the deforested landscape, a path cut into the ground as it led upwards. I found a cliff overlooking the entire view of the castle and land around it. When I got to the high ground, I peered through the binoculars that I had in my special items section. I managed to get a good view of the members of IOI, what the gunters referred to as Sixers, stationed at the front of the castle near the shield. I could spot the air vehicles that circled above them, land vehicles and heavy-duty weaponry on the ground. For me, the way the company hired players and then had them all looking alike reminded me of a concept my dad about collecting when I was younger. He told me that a lot of Star Wars collectors would often buy many copies of the same Stormtrooper figures. He told me that it was called "army building." I couldn't help but wonder if the company had come up with the idea of hiring players from that concept. The owner of IOI could've been a Star Wars action figure collector in their younger years, and decreed that the Sixers would all look alike like the Stormtroopers: faceless drones doing their job, or another number of an army. A plastic soldier among plastic soldiers. Not much was known of the company creator and owner of the IOI. He (as information was limited to the point where even gender wasn't listed, so everyone assumed it was a guy) was as much a mystery as Halliday had been in the last years of his life. Everyone was so concerned about stopping the Sixers from winning the contest that I had to wonder how many actually asked questions like that. But then again, asking about the company's creator almost like asking "Who is John Galt?" and no one was willing to.

I continued to look through the binoculars, switching my view to Build Mode, being able to get a better view of the shield covering the castle. By doing this, I was able to see that the main source of the force field's power was somewhere on the roof of the castle. Anyone who has ever built any items in the OASIS knows that every item starts with a "ground primitive". It was a piece of an item that serves as the main storage of any scripting of any item, no matter how big or small. The ground primitive shows up in Builder mode as a solid blue color. This also helped show connected models, even if they were invisible. I could also see other solid blue points down towards the rear side of the castle. I could see the names, types, and creators of the objects. I could see movements of users using items inside the castle as well, as it appeared every single one of IOI's army was armed with some sort of weapon. But what caught my attention was a rather sizable grounded prim that seemed like it was glowing brighter than the others inside of a huge foyer inside of the castle. By the way it looked, which was impossible of OASIS programming, it was a grounded prim, though shaped what looks like a doorway. I then had to remind myself that the item was created by Halliday himself, who was so much of a master at coding. He was able to hide the coding for his Egg Hunt so well in the OASIS, users couldn't find any kind of hint. And if the Tomb of Horrors were never discovered, would have spent the rest of their lives sifting through lines of code before finding anything that might have tied into it. Him creating a doorway that acted like it's own grounded prim didn't seem at all out of place. I switched out of the Builder mode back into normal, trying to see if there was anything else I could spot. By the way, it looked at that moment, if the shield had been down, it would be easy to take out every one of the Sixers inside the castle.

"Hey stranger," I heard a female voice behind me in a soft Australian accent that carried memories with it.

I mentioned we'd get to this part. I turned around to find her standing there. It looked as if she had changed her avatar's appearance quite a lot since I had last seen it, which was the final time we spoke a few years ago.

"Hey Del," I finally managed to say after a moment of choking on the words.

Dellielah (pronounced as Delilah), was my ex-girlfriend in the OASIS. You see, for every successful online relationship (if you're reading this Parzival, I do hope things work out between you and Art3mis), there are dozens, if not thousands of failures in the OASIS on a regular basis. And, I will admit, I was an idiot for doing so, as much as being a giant idiot for not seeing things in front of me. You know the old saying, "Hindsight is a twenty-twenty vision." Our story was your basic boy-meets-girl, boy-and-girl-fall-in-love, girl-fucks-up-boys-life-by-lying-and-deceit and boy-sufferings-major-personal-BSOD-period-before-bouncing-back tale. I would like to tell everyone of a condensed version of one and a half year of a relationship and give you the details of what had happened. But, that'd be adding an extra chapter to this tale and its one that I'm not up to tell. But do you know how they say when you fall in love, all those songs, movies and poems start to make sense? It's also true of those songs, movies, and poems about it ending. That's right people, all you PvP fans who have hypothesized why I left, the short answer is that I left because of a woman. Any of you who had money on it, you are more than welcome to collect if you had placed that bet.

When I first met her, as well as last saw her, the face of her avatar reminded me of Brigitte Helm as she looked in Metropolis, but long black hair. Her avatar's body screamed Monica Bellucci, the dress she was wearing reminded me of the same one the late actress wore in Under Suspicion. Her eyes had a silvery blue glow to them (they weren't glowing, but it looked like they did). But at that moment on the cliff overlooking the castle, she had done a lot of changes to her avatar's appearance. She had done away with the look she had before, going with a much smaller frame, almost flat chested. She also changed her face. It looked more like a thinner version of Lady Zannah of Khera's face with piercings in the lower lip and right eyebrow. Her hair was still black and shoulder length, but she added red highlights. By the way it looked, she had a partial shave on the left side down to stubble as well as asymmetrical bangs. Her avatar's outfit was a basic T-shirt with leather jacket combo with blue jeans and Nikes that had seen better days. Her avatar reminded me of pictures of junkies from those before/after pictures of people who had taken meth or something else that you'd see advertisements for drug addiction treatment back before the OASIS took over as the Internet, or like the last known picture of Amy Winehouse (who should have said 'yes' to rehab).

"What brings you into this fight?" I asked her, turning my attention back to the castle.

"I got the word like everyone else," she replied. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"I'm betting you're here with Jack, aren't you?"

Jack_Harry was Dellielah's boyfriend in the OASIS at the time when I first met her. Again, a whole chapter to explain everything.

"I haven't talked to him in over two years," she told me. "I'm here with some friends of mine. Currently into the turn-based RPGs, mainly the Final Fantasy stuff."

"How anyone can find that fun is beyond me."

I continued to look through the binoculars, trying to see if I could notice anything that could be a weakness in their forces. Any kind of exploit at that moment could be useful. But I couldn't see anything that jumped out.

"So, how's your husband doing?" I asked.

"He's okay the last time I checked. We split up a few months ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," And I actually meant that. Like I said before, some people have it much worse than others. Despite how she hurt me, I wouldn't have wished that on her.

She was silent for a while as I was trying to figure out if there was a gap somewhere in the defensive perimeter that had set up. But nothing was giving. They were dug in for a long-haul, and they were determined to win it. I finally put the binoculars away, turning to head back down to the ground level.

"Daed," Dellielah caught my attention. "I know things will never be okay with us. And I've apologized and explained-"

"Look," I cut her off. "This is not about you and I. It's about everyone right now. I've already accepted your apology and your explanation. As far as I'm concerned, it's over and done."

I began to head towards the pathway back as the sky was changing colors with the quick approaching sunrise. When I reached it, I turned around to look at her again for a moment.

"You should leave this planet while you can," I told her. "Fighters are needed. You're not made for the fight that's coming."

I found my way down and back to the group, not even concerned with Dellielah and what I told her. I was right, though, and didn't mean for it to be an insult or anything. We needed fighters and she never came off as a fighter in any way. If I had to guess, her turn-based fighting was a passing thing for her to do, like how she was a vampire when I first met her (she told me she had been doing it for only a couple of days before she met me) and how she explained she was with a hospital RP game and several others before that. She wasn't built to fight in a virtual environment. I was. Everyone on Team Ragewar was and had proven themselves more so over and over again. And even in the time that we hadn't seen each other, there was no way she could have been valuable as a fighter. I focused on getting back to the others so I could give my assessment and come up with a useful plan for the battle that was to come. As I made it there, I found the group sitting by the fire, getting ready to start our team's pre-fight ritual.

"How's it lookin', Daedalus?" Esther asked me as I took a seat next to her.

At this point, we began our pre-fight ritual. Even with real-life sports, back when they all existed in the real world, it was always reported that teams had their own pre-game rituals and superstitious beliefs. I've heard some weird ones, but the one that always takes the cake for me is John Henderson and his need for a pre-game slap to the face. For us, we liked to keep things simple. We started by cracking open a digital can of beer. Not any beer, it had to be Bane of Ratwater. We would sit in a circle and talk strategy (yes, the strategy was a part of the pre-game ritual for us). I told them the truth, as there was no way for us to get in.

"Whatever the High Five have planned, I'm sure they must already have something in place," H0xle said. "They wouldn't call for an army unless they were certain they were going to go in."

"Makes sense," Cochise took a swig. "Like setting up a wired network, wanna have a plan laid out before you start running the cabling and getting your systems hooked up."

"So, since the getting in is covered," Sinny looked over at me when she spoke. "What's the game plan for us? I mean, what are we going to do once that shield comes down?"

"I wish I knew," I admitted. "We're going into all-out war. Any kind of game fighting and rules within them are going to be thrown out the window. So, the best thing I can think of for a strategy is keeping at least within eyesight of each other if possible."

I took a sip from my beer, my gears trying to turn. I realized a big flaw with myself at that moment. Yes, I was a builder that knew how to fight, but I couldn't come up with a strategy like I used to.

"I'm sorry," I told them. "I'm a lot rustier than I thought I was."

"Don't-worry-Daed-san," Isamu told me. "Any-strategy-we-could-devise-would-be-useless-in-these-circumstances. There-are-no-maps-for-this-territory."

"Just relax," H0xle said. "You're not Atlas. The world isn't on your shoulders alone."

It took me a moment to remember that I needed to adjust something with Hobbes' code, me pulling out his cube from the inventory. I switched to build mode, reaching into the ground primitive to access the defensive script. I knew I needed to have it set to where I would be able to have Hobbes defend me if needed, as well as the others. But, with the setting at the time, if I set Hobbes to defend, he'd attacked everyone that wasn't me. So, with a little thought about how to go about things, I thought back to looking at all the Sixers' ID and it gave me the answer I was needing. With using the virtual keyboard, I made the adjustments to Hobbes' script.

Now, for those who can't read the OASIS scripting language, I'll explain the changes in simple sentences. "If a user has the combination of 'IOI-6' in their username, you are to attack them' and 'If a user doesn't have the combination of 'IOI-6' in their username, you are to defend them." It was a way to make sure that when Hobbes was out, he would be attacking the Sixers and not the gunters in the fight. He still had the command for defending me should I need it, but he was programmed to cover all users if needed. The thing about NPCs that go with users is that they only remain active for as long as the player is active. So, as long as I didn't get japped and wasted by any of the Sixers, Hobbes was going to be a four-legged cavalry for those who needed him. I saved the changes and switched back to normal view.

"What do you have there?" Cochise asked.

I set the cube down next to me, in the gap between me and Esther.

"Hobbes, rez."

The look on the others' faces as Hobbes unfolded from the cube into his tiger shape was priceless.

"Bad-ass-Daed-san," Isamu stated, flashing a rare smile I hadn't seen since before he lost his voice.

As I figured, as the clock approached noon, the masses increased. And, it also seemed like the intelligence in some of them decreased. Those that were using flying vehicles tried to attack the shield, hoping that it would be enough to bring it down. They tried strafing attacks against it, but the weapons used did nothing. Due to their miscalculations, some of them would either come close to wiping out gunters on the ground or crashing straight into the shield. The first few times it happened, it pissed me off. But after the next dozens of times it occurred, I stopped worrying. As Ron White once said it best: You can't fix stupid. Cochise and Sinny decided to borrow some armor from my duffel bag. Cochise went with the Juggernaut Suit from GTA and Sinny decided on my Hurricane shield from Defiance, Epic rating. We got closer to the shield since we knew a lot more users were going to be pushing to get close to the front line. We decided the best option was to spread out on the front, giving us more than enough room from each other to handle ourselves but still left enough of a chance for backup to come help if needed. It was about forty-five minutes until noon when the sounds of sonic booms could be heard from high above in the atmosphere.

Everyone could see the notice of Shoto and Aech on the mini-map before their giant mechs descended from the clouds to land in front of the castle. As the RX-78 and Raideen came in, the gunters in the area where they were about to land freed up some space for the giant mechs, cheering as the two mechs touch-downed. Now, a regular ground fight is one thing, but adding mechs to the battle added another level of danger. Two mechs battling, it's one on one kind of fighting. A mech controller could lose track of where they are stepping and end up squashing a lot of users in the process. I shook the thought out of my head, not wanting to have any negativity riding on my back. Before we got on task, we took to the huddle (another of our pre-game rituals).

"Daed," H0xle spoke to me. "Lead us in."

I hadn't done the lead in for years. At first, it had felt weird being in that circle with them once again. It felt like missing a place that no longer existed, like missing the Jaws ride at Universal Studios. But there was something in me that sparked, a sense as if I had never lost a beat between that last match to this fight.

"This is not a game," I started. "This is a fight. This is not a match. This is a war. And when we go to battle, we fight for our brothers and sisters with us. We stand together, we fall as individuals. But when we fall, we will give the other team Hell before we do. For every punch they throw at our heads, we give them a kick in the teeth. For every inch they try to take, we take two back from them. We fight until we can't fight any longer. And when that happens, we fight some more."

I could hear the light 'amens' coming from the others in the huddle. I knew we were getting on the same page at that moment like we had so many times before.

"From this moment on, we are not loners. We are one. From this moment, we are not players. We are warriors. We fight with honor. We fight as a family. We fight for the OASIS. Who are we?"

"Ragewar," the others spoke up in unison.

"Who are we?!"

"Ragewar."

"SAY IT LOUD!"

"RAGEWAR."

"SAY IT PROUD!"

"RAGEWAR!"

We broke from the huddle, beginning to head to our positions as the clock finally reached its twenty-minute mark and counting to noon. At that moment, another mech came flying in, the Minerva X, as I would learn the name from Parzival's story, piloted by Art3mis. Hobbes' roar startled a few of the users in front of us, as we walked and headed to our positions. This caused some to get the hell out of the way. We stood near the front, as there were about two or three rows of players in front of us. Even from that position, I was able to see the rows of Sixers that had filed out in response to the numbers of new arrivals. Even with what they had, their numbers looked as if they could have been included on a video reel of one-sided ass-whopping after the fight was over. I opened up the team chat and put the headphones back onto my avatar. I needed some music to get into the headspace while we waited for the final of the four leaders to arrive. I attached our fighting HUD to my screen, so to keep track of the others.

"Daed, put on some jams, yeah-yeah!" Cochise's voice came over group chat. I could hear some chuckling from Esther, which also sent a shiver up my spine like her smile.

"Daed, do you happen to have 'Test For Echo' by Rush?" Sinny asked. "Haven't heard that one in a while."

"Sorry, Sinny," I replied. "I do have 'Tom Sawyer' if you want."

"Never mind."

It made me chuckle a bit. One of the things the others were accustomed to was hearing music I played for myself over their headphones because we use group voice chat. The good thing is that whenever I heard them talking or they heard me talking, the music's volume would dial down so that we could hear each other and back up after everyone went silent. I attached my Zune, queuing up my old gaming playlist. The White Stripe's "Seven Nation Army" began to play as I nodded along and mouthed the opening words.

I'm gonna fight 'em off... A seven nation army couldn't hold me back...

We continued to wait, the Sixers not showing any response to the recently arrived mechs. The plastic soldiers stood and waited. The White Stripes gave way to The Rolling Stones' "Gimme Shelter", which also gave way to "Nowhere Fast" by Fire, Inc., with almost seven and a half minutes left until noon. No fourth mech and no word from the IOI. It was about six minutes and thirty seconds when another sonic boom from the sky above thundered, the sky revealing Leopardon with Parzival piloting. The crowd roared so loud, it would have been deafening had it not been for the music playing in my headset. He did a flyby and finally landed, inspiring many users to chant his name like he was entering the Thunderdome or something. I paused the Zune when I noticed the door opening from the castle, the first real sign of life since I had done the build view from the cliff. An avatar exited out, walking down the steps and approaching the shield. I used my minimap to get the ID from the user, the username registered as IOI-655321. I could hear Hobbes growling at my side, me petting him more for my sake than for his.

"Easy, buddy," I said to him. "You'll get your chance."

This guy, who Parzival noted in his story as a man named Sorrento, carried himself with a cocky grin. From the way he walked (I don't know if it was me or if he was using a motion control rig or some sort of pre-downloaded animation), he came off as being a giant asshole even before he spoke.

"Welcome to Castle Anorak," he spoke, his voice cutting through the air like a rocket due to the amplification from various vehicles. "We have been expecting you."

He gestured his hand in a way that came off like "see here" and directed towards us. Even his voice made him sound like a cocky asshole and made me want to put my foot right to his avatar's throat. I zoned out at that moment to retrieve my Defiant Few Assault Gear helmet from my inventory, placing it onto my avatar's head. I accessed the duffel bag's inventory, retrieving my pride and joy: the Curbstomper. The Curbstomper was an auto-shotgun I cobbled together. It had the model of a SPAS-12 with a solid shoulder stock. Unlike the real SPAS-12, I modified the gun to do single and three round burst firing. Attached to the bottom of the gun, right in front of the trigger guard was a barrel drum magazine. The gun's designed to fire slug rounds at triple the power of a double-barrel shotgun blast. It was only able to hold sixty rounds without reloading but where it lacked in round capacity, it made up for in speed and power. I chambered a round, more than ready to fight while the clock ticked seconds away until noon.

"Can you believe this wanker?" H0xle asked over group chat.

"I hear you," Esther replied before she followed with what I assumed was meant for Sorrento. "Quit talking shit, little man."

"I don't know why, but this reminds me of that Jerry Clower joke you told me, Daed," Sinny piped up. "Are you gonna sit there and argue or fish?"

I had wondered for a brief moment about Isamu since he was silent, but when Sinny made her comment, I stopped thinking about him and could see what she meant. Sorrento was playing around in an explosive situation but seemed completely ignorant about the masses in front of him wanting to do nothing more than to stomp the Sixers into the dirt and give honest players a chance to get the Egg. And if the remaining High Five members had a plan, they needed to light a fire under its ass, because the situation was starting to look grim. And before we all knew it, it got grimmer. Sorrento retrieved a toy, and when I saw it I recognized it right off the bat as Mechagodzilla. I had one of the figures in my collection. It was confusing to me why he would take a toy out of his inventory and place it on the ground in front of him at first. But it wasn't until I remembered a second later that this was the OASIS, and the realization of what was about to happen shot through me first as he shouted "Kiryu!" And as the metal monster grew, the silence among the crowd also grew. I was frozen in shock as sounds of panic began to come up in stereo.

I looked back down to see ten more of the Sixers breaking out more recognizable mechs. With the fact that IOI outnumbered the gunters with mechs, including a damn-near indestructible Mechagodzilla, what started with what looked to be a one-sided ass-whooping was now beginning to look uncallable. The fight had finally become the metaphorical coin toss, where you couldn't place a bet on who could win it. The shock finally wore off with me coming to realize that the odds increased. The situation was no different from before and no different than any typical video game. There were still two teams, both on opposing sides, both out to win. I had been so distracted by the introduction of the addition of more mechs that I hadn't realized Sorrento had gotten into his until his voice boomed from the Mechagodzilla towards us.

"Come on!"

Many began to fall back, my haptic vest conveying the impact of the avatars in front of me that turned tail and hauled ass, with a small few taking a few steps back. I continued to stand still out of confusion or fear (looking back now, I couldn't tell you which one). I noticed how some of the Sixers that had been behind the mechs were coming around and surrounding their feet, bridging the distance from where they were to the shield in front of them. I could imagine in their view, the fight was already won by them, seeing the users on the other side of the shield reacting in fear.

"Daed!" Cochise's voice came up over group chat, me realizing he had been calling my name for the minute or so afterward. "What do you think? We bag it or try for it?"

"Are you kidding me, Cochise?" H0xle spoke up. "We've got to stay in."

"Seriously, guys," Sinny's followed, the sound of panic was noticeable in her voice even with the modulation. "This whole thing is frightening to me. And you know me well enough I don't get scared easily. But you've got to be kidding me! I say 'bag it'."

"There's no shame in being afraid, Sinthiana," Esther told her. "Just as much as there's not for bagging it. I honestly can't decide."

'Bag it or try for it' was our Teamspeak for if we should get out or stay in for the fight. And they were looking to me for an answer. Here we were, a team once more and now the leader needed to make the choice. I couldn't help but wonder if what was happening with Ragewar at that moment was what King Leonidas had to deal with at the Battle of Thermopylae. Before I was going to say to them to leave it to their judgment, Isamu finally gave a response to the situation with the use of his soundboard. I recognized the voice as the late Sylvester Stallone. But it wasn't a clip from any films of the 1980s, mind you, but it was from one of the sequels to one of the two most recognized franchises he created.

"If any of you boys wanna shoot, now's the time," Stallone's voice played. "And there isn't one of us that doesn't want to be someplace else. But this is what we do. Who we are. Live for nothing or die for something. Your call."

Isamu was right to play that clip. He was calling us out on even considered running. At that moment, I knew what the correct answer was. It was the only answer. Even with whatever doubts I ever had about myself at any point in my life, running wasn't an option for me. It wasn't an option for any of us at that moment.

"Hold the line," I told the others. "Not one inch, remember? Hold the line. Confirm?"

"Okay, brotha," Cochise responded first.

"Cheers, Boss," followed by H0xle.

"Oke," Esther replied. "Pa gen pwoblem."

Sinny was quiet for a moment before she finally responded, knowing she had to find the courage inside her. "Okay."

Isamu responded with another quote from his soundboard, this time with three different voices: "Whaddu say? Let's do it, eh?" "Let's do it!"

I couldn't help but realize the calm that had washed over me at that moment. I thought of a saying my father once told me while we were doing a LAN game of Far Cry, which may have been a quote from somewhere: Fear accompanies the possibility of death. Calm shepherds its certainty. If this fight was going to be the last free moments of the OASIS, then losing my character in the fight was going to be a price worth paying. I knew it at that moment, looking at the clock count down the final minute. I turned back to look at the mechs on our side, watching as Leopardon drew its sword. I pressed play on my Zune as I turned back towards the Sixer forces, spotting Isamu a few yards away to my right and Sinny farther away from him for a brief moment. I looked to my left seeing Esther close by, with Cochise and H0xle along the line. Aerosmith's Intro from their album Get A Grip started to play as we waited, it segwayed into the start of "Eat The Rich." As the first hit of the guitar happened in the song, and the clock hit noon, something happened.

The explosion from the top of Castle Anorak caught everyone's attention, including me. I noticed on my map that the shield no longer existed, but the flash of the explosion made it difficult to see that it was down until it faded enough for me to see. I looked down to see that Isamu standing behind one of the Sixers who had turned towards the explosion and hadn't processed that their protection was gone. And through the group chat, the music's volume lowered, I could hear Isamu's soundboard playing one of the pre-made clips that he was playing out in the open. It took me a second to recognize the female voice that played, it sounded like it was being played through a classic tape player. It was one of the sounds from a DLC character from Payday 2, a character named Jacket from Hotline: Miami.

"Do you know what time it is?" the female voice played, followed by the sound of a tape scratch.

The playing of the sound finally caught the Sixer's attention. But before they could turn their avatar around, Isamu already had his sword out and in a swooping motion going from crotch to head. The Sixer's avatar shattered into digital pieces and it's inventory erupting everywhere. I raised the Curbstomper up and took aim. All out war was starting and the first move had been made. Everyone was catching on with me following as I was about to unload on what would be the second kill in the war.

"GIVE 'EM HELL!" I screamed as I followed Isamu's lead and took out the first of the Sixers near me, as "Eat The Rich" kicked in with its hard rock.

Now, most people who have talked about the fight have gone a little too far in describing things. They talk about what moves they used and how bad-ass they were. I'm not like most people. The first few minutes of the fight, to be honest, were a blur for me. My father told me he called "zone black", where you get so focused on playing that you lose track of most of everything except the game itself. It's like getting so deep into the zone, you disappear into it. It was like being swallowed by a black hole. Well, I got into the zone black when I was in FPS battles before, and I had slipped into it once more like slipping into a warm bath. What broke me out of it was the fact that I got hit from behind and found the Curbstomper keeping a Sixer, who had gotten on top of me, from pushing a big-ass knife into my face. I was processing how to get out of the situation when Hobbes came out of nowhere and knocked the son of a bitch off of me. I could hear him screaming a string of profanity as Hobbes had his head in a death grip, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll until his avatar shattered into coins. Hobbes roared as he went into a full speed charge and went after the next Sixer in eyesight.

I looked around to gather my situational awareness as I got up, the HUD displaying where my teammates were and the number of kills performed by all. Cochise had taken the lead among us, his number of kills being twenty-six. I was following behind him with twenty-four kills, Esther at twenty, leaving Isamu with nineteen, and both H0xle and Sinny at seventeen and all numbers rising. I was more focused on their stats, allowing me to know if they were in trouble or if they were okay. Their health was still in the green, except for H0xle. With "Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin playing, I began to head towards his direction in case he needed help. I spotted a Sixer who was charging on a gunter who was brandishing an over-sized plasma rifle the size of a snowmobile with said gunter unaware. With two well-placed shots, the plastic soldier fell to pieces before he could cause harm and continued on my way.

"You okay, H0x?" I asked over the group chat.

"Bloody hell!" he replied in a state of panic.

As I ducked and dodged my way towards H0xle, taking out whatever Sixer crossed my path. I ended up getting knocked down a couple of more times by them, but I got up, handled them and continued on. They were like flies, as soon as you managed to handle one, another one of them was on you. I noticed with the amount of time it was taking me to get to H0xle, his health bar dropped from the last half of green straight into the mid-yellow, approaching the red. By the time I finally spotted H0xle, two Sixers were attacking him, one of them using what appeared to be a blue plastic bag over his head and the other one was hitting him with a lead pipe. I charged at full speed, trying to avoid the gunters and Sixers. But by the time I could get within distance to do anything, H0xle's health drop from red to nothing and his avatar shattered into pieces. I looked to see his name drop out of the list on the team HUD, indicating he was out of the fight.

"NO!" I screamed. "BASTARDS!"

I aimed the Curbstomper and fired a round into the asshole with the plastic bag first. It was a head shot that broke his head into digital shards before his body followed suit. The second one took notice of his partner shattering and began to turn around to react. The poor sucker didn't have a chance, as I had jumped and delivered a kick straight to his face, sending him to the ground. I pushed the barrel of the gun right into the Sixer's mouth and his head went exploding too. I began to kick myself in the ass, feeling that I may have been so rusty that I couldn't get to my teammate in time. I wondered what had happened that could have allowed those two to get the drop on him. I picked up the Lanchester to see that he had switched to the fire rounds, but there was a shell stuck in the ejection chamber.

No matter how well you could build something, I always suspected that Halliday must have figured out that there had to be limitations in the OASIS. Other than an item having a cool-down period, a short lifespan or a limited use function, I was sure he must have known that someone like me would try to figure out ways around them. When it came to guns, no matter what you used, there was always the likelihood of the weapon jamming. I suspected Halliday had created some sort of "chaos system" that would cause such problems for users. Especially for those who create weapons that circumvent most of the limitations installed by the OASIS. The only exceptions I've ever come across were special items that were artifacts.

I started to make my way to the castle. Due to the Sixers being spread out, there didn't appear to be anyone guarding the door. There were a few hundred users trying to make their way inside, but something was stopping them. I switched to build mode, getting a clear view of the invisible primitive that blocked the door. I assumed that Halliday programmed it to block out people from entering the castle unless there was some sort of pre-programmed rule. It got me thinking that it must have had to do with the keys that had been mentioned in the contest (after reading Parzival's story, my thought was right, as every door needed a key). And since the High Five was on the board and able to get this far, and the fact that the IOI members were also there, it got me thinking. There'd be no way for the members of the High Five to get into the castle if the Sixers could file in and keep them from entering or even getting to the door object I saw earlier.

As I approached, I switched to local chat and began screaming. I repeated myself at least five times and hoped that everyone at the door was willing to listen.

"HOLD THE LINE!" I screamed. "KEEP THE SIXERS OUT!"

As I got to the group, I turned around and kept my eyes open. A couple of Sixers tried to approach, but I took them out, pumping round after round into them. I kept my guard up as I peeked over my shoulder. I could see at least a couple of rows formed behind me, unsure of if the others behind them formed. But with what I could see, they were getting the idea and following along.

"Yo, Daed," I heard Cochise say my name. "Where are you?"

"Front door of the castle," I said after switching back to the group chat. "Rally up, my location! And double-time it!"

I threw down a rallying point (which with the animation looked like me point down at the ground for a brief moment), knowing that their HUDs would show where I was. I looked up at the HUD to see that Sinny was off the board as well, with Cochise in the yellow, and both Isamu and Esther still in the green, but on the borderline. The first familiar face I spotted was Esther. She was being escorted by three Sixers whose eyes were glowing green, which was common for when she had their avatars under control. As she got within distance of me, all three died out and she took place at my left.

"What a day, huh?" I asked her.

"This reminds me of that time with the Arcturians," she told me.

Don't ask about the Arcturians. That's a different story and for mature audiences only. Throughout the whole time, I had forgotten my Zune was still playing music, now belting out Junkie XL's "Brothers In Arms." The Sixers caught on quick about what we were doing and started to pile on assaults. But every time one of them got close, I unloaded on them, as did Esther. And as soon as those Esther got control of, she would have them attack other Sixers nearby before their avatars keeled over. I kept protecting her due to the fact she had to reload the Winchester she was using. It looked like a charge of five of them were coming at us when a phased plasma blast evaporated them. Cochise came running up, dropping the plasma rifle as he did so. I could see the reason behind him abandoning it, the power pack damaged and the blast he shot was the last one it could muster.

"Welcome to the party, pal!" I told him as he took up my right side, him going akimbo with Needlers.

"Never count me out, brotha," he told me.

"Any eyes on Isamu?"

I heard a roar coming from the far-right, which caught my attention. I found Hobbes coming towards us at full speed with Isamu in tow. There was something about it that seemed to me like it would be expected. But Hobbes continued on, running past us to target another Sixer that was coming up, and Isamu joined next to Cochise. Also, I had noticed a couple of others joining us in our front row, which included the gunter with the over-sized plasma rifle. Everyone took a moment to patch themselves up, bringing their health back up. I shotgunned a can of Jolt Cola, which brought me from the yellow back into the green.

"You're late," I told our samurai wizard.

"Yeah, well... you know, that's just like, uh, your opinion, man," Jeff Bridge's voice came from Isamu's soundboard, which brought a laugh out of me and gave me some much-needed relief.

There we were in front, with a whole lot of gunters between us and the open door. We could see a whole squad of Sixers forming, trying their gather their forces for what was about to be a big push at us. It was at that moment I saw someone diving out of the RX-78 and floating in our direction. A brief moment later, I met Aech for the first time ever. I recognized his avatar from footage of his deathmatches from the years before. He must have been using some form of magic, as he was floating over us at a fast, but not extremely fast, pace.

"Hold them off for us, old timer!" Aech yelled as he flew by. It hit a nerve with me.

"I'm only thirty-five, you punk!"

He disappeared into the castle through the doors behind us. The numbers of the Sixers matching were increasing with each attempt. Another one of the High Five flew over our heads into the castle, leaving the Raideen, Leopardon and the Mechagodzilla battling it out while we focused on keeping our new task at hand. I raised the Curbstomper to fire a few rounds at the approaching group of plastic soldiers and the gun jammed on me. I dropped it to the ground, accessing my inventory. I pulled out the Donowitz, a high crit baseball bat I picked up from Tarantino. I peered over my shoulder to see that now everyone behind us had finally gathered into rows. I knew that if we were going to bite the big one, that the other rows behind us had it covered.

"They're gonna try to push," I told the rows behind us. "If we fall, keep them back as best as you can."

I turned my attention to the row I was on, giving them instructions. "We hold the line. We're gonna push forward and attack, then when I say, we fall back to here and we do it again. Draw them close and take them out. We keep these punks from trying to get to the second row. Try not to get dead."

Isamu followed with another clip from his soundboard: "You get hurt, hurt them back. You get killed, walk it off."

"A-men, brotha!"

I bumped the track forward button on the Zune, the song starting with a heavy electric guitar and kicking into a metal beat. I gripped the bat between my hands, ready to proceed as the song approached its chorus and my nerves became steel. We made our way forward towards the group of Sixers that were coming at us. I introduced a couple of them to the Donowitz, with a good well-placed swing and hits. I was able to take out the first two I came up against at the same time, delivering a hard hit the cranium on both. Isamu appeared to be effortless in taking out a few of them as we continued to push forward, slicing and dicing them like a master chef. Cochise, Esther and the guy with the plasma rifle were all making their hits count all the while avoiding hitting each other in the process.

Magic, static, call me a fanatic. It's our world, they can never have it. This is how we rise up. It's our resistance. You can't resist us!

We kept at it for three minutes and I signaled for the line to fall back to the starting position. The Sixers couldn't get close to the castle door. We got back in line as the song on the player switched from Skillet's "The Resistance" to an extended remix of "Evil Eye" from the Payday 2 OST. We took a moment to wait for those who needed to reload and heal to do so, and then we began to push forward again as the next set of Sixers began to charge at us.

The second time we pushed forward, we were putting the dent on the Sixers' groups. We were managing to keep them at bay, no matter how many times they tried to gather and push forward. I had taken a swing at a Sixer with the username IOI-683223, who ducked the first few swings. My avatar got a poke in the ribs with a dagger, it taking a huge chunk of my health from me. For a moment, I had thought it was at that moment my avatar was about to bite the dust and I would be out of the game. As the Sixer reared his blade to finish me off, there was a sound of rapid-fire coming from behind him. Each shot blew out chunks of digital bits from him before he collapsed into a pile of coins and weapons at my feet. I looked back up to find Dellielah, holding an MP7M still smoking from the rounds fired. She aimed the SMG at me and fired two darts at me. I felt the impact through the haptic vest and saw my avatar's health jump back up to the green. She approached, keeping her guard up.

"I thought you said you said you did the turn-based fighting?"

"I said CURRENTLY, you twat," she told me, looking over her shoulder at me with an amused smirk. "Doesn't mean I didn't play something else before that!"

It was at that moment, that a lot of the attention was caught by the sight of the massive explosion that had once been the head of the Mechagodzilla. A cheer had roared up around us, but I knew we weren't done yet. I began to fall back with Dellielah joining in.

"Fall back to first!" I yelled at the others, running back to the rows at the door. "Get back in the game!"

Dellielah popped a Medic Grenade and dropped it. The green mist erupted from it for a short time and give those in the front row that passed through it a boost on their health. It was at that moment, Parzival had finally joined Aech and Art3mis in the castle, him flying over us causing some of us to duck to avoid him hitting us. But we kept our guard up, as the Sixers were still trying to push forward. It was at that moment, I noticed another Sixer as he approached, moving fast. The username read IOI-666666, and it appeared he was brandishing a machete. I saw a Jedi stepping up towards him, holding the usual weapon of a Jedi Knight in his hands: a Lightsaber. But something surprised me when he made his move. The Sixer reared back the machete and swung at the Jedi, who brought his Lightsaber up to block it. But the machete's blade didn't slice in half like it should have. It instead went right through the powered blade and sliced the head of the Jedi clean off, almost like it wasn't even there. I switched to build mode because I couldn't believe that it wasn't a normal blade.

To my suspicions, I was right. The blade he was carrying registered with the name The Voorhees. I was familiar with it because I tried to win it at auction to add to my private collection a few years before. The Voorhees was an artifact and it was one of the most powerful machetes that existed. The stats alone were impressive, as it was designed to never break, bend or melt. And that it was a one-hit kill weapon, not mattering what armor, magic spells or defenses you had. Of course, I lost out the auction because the price went too high and seeing it then and there was a surprise to me. I switched back to normal view at this moment.

"Get out of my way!" the Sixer yelled towards us, still closing the yards between us.

It took me a second to realize the voice that had come out of that Sixer was the same cocky bastard that had been in controlled and died in the Mechagodzilla: IOI-655321 (Sorrento). I was surprised to find his voice coming through, as he had bit the big one a few minutes before and should not have been able to have more than one account. It was later from reading Parzival's story that it made sense. But at that moment, I put the confusion aside as I knew we needed to stop him. The Voorhees would have been able to slice through all the rows and allow him access to the castle. But, I had an idea click in my head. I accessed my duffel bag and retrieved the most powerful of melee weapons I created. It was a wooden style sledgehammer with a square wooden head. I gripped it with both hands, a perfect replica on one of the handiest and dandiest kitchen tools you've ever seen from the Amazing Master Tools Corporation, a subsidiary of Fly-By-Night Industries: the Sledge-O-Matic. I looked over at Cochise.

"If I don't stop him, try your best to waste him."

I began to approach him, walking with as much determination as he had at that moment. I couldn't help but hear the late Gallagher's voice in my head as I approached the son of a bitch: It works at the root of your problem. You're an animal! And you need to release this aggression! And man, I sure as hell was about to give him one hell of a surprise he wasn't expecting. As we got close enough to each other, I waited for him to make his first, and what would be his last, move. He reared the Voorhees back, and I readied myself. As he began the curve of his swing, I began my moves by rearing the Sledge-O-Matic back and managing to duck at the same time, short of having the top of my head being cut off. It was shortly after that, while he almost completed his move that I'm sure he knew he misjudged his action.

I'll admit, I hope that he had a haptic vest on, because as I began to stand back up, I made my swing in an upward motion and hit him hard in the chest. Now, this wasn't your typical sledgehammer. I had topped out the stats as high as I could get them without risking the item shattering on me. So, with the haptic vest, if he was wearing one, he would have felt the full impact of what it would be like to get hit by a wrecking ball. IOI-666666 lost contact with the ground as his avatar began to be propelled up into the sky. He passed over the flaming wreckage of the Mechagodzilla, the Sixers and gunters that continued to fight, and disappeared over the horizon. Part of me thought that if Gallagher was still alive and in the OASIS to witness that, he'd be very proud. The others at the door began to applaud and cheer as I came back to the front line.

"Damn-Daed-san," Isamu said. "That-was-funny-as-hell!"

"Je-sus!" Esther was laughing while trying to talk. "That reminded me of Looney Tunes!"

I got back in line, turning around to seeing a whole bunch of the Sixers who were gathering and about to make another push. But they stood there in awestruck of what I had done. They finally realized that we were dug in and holding the line better than they ever could without a shield.

"Come and get one in the yarbles," I called out to them, raising the Sledge-O-Matic above my head with both hands. "If you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou!"

They began backing up, a couple of them turning tail and running. This caused a few of the gunters behind me to chuckle, some of them to laugh at the sight of seeing some of the Sixers being cowards as they were. I could see that some of the Sixers were still fighting and they were losing. I began to wonder if we had scored a victory, as it was clear we had them on the ropes long enough for three of the High Five to get to the gate. I looked over to the left and right at the faces I knew, and a smile grew across my face. But, as I turned back towards the horizon, I saw a bright flash, and a whole wall of white came at us.

In the real world, the brightness caused me to scream and to rip my visor off. I was my feet and my battle rig went crashing to the floor. I rubbed my eyes, trying to see if I could get my vision back. There was at first blobs of colors that covered my entire vision, even with my eyes opened or closed. After a minute or so, the blobs of colors began to fade, my eyesight returning to normal and the blobs only occurring whenever I blinked. I was confused about what had happened. I grabbed my visor and peered into it, seeing two words... GAME OVER. I couldn't believe what had happened. We had fought the IOI and as we were on the verge of victory, they pulled a last-minute move on us. I wondered was it everyone or only us at the castle that got wasted. I pulled up the off-system IM, sending a message to Cochise, asking him and got the response back within a minute: It was us all, brotha. Those asses had an ace up their sleeves and took out everyone in the sector.

I accessed YouTube to find a live stream from one of the news broadcasters. From a bird's eye view of the battle, I saw an instant replay of the shock wave obliterating every user both Sixer and gunter alike. Castle Anorak was ripped to shreds as well and the entire of the planet wiped out, taking everything from plant to vehicle with it. Following after that, the camera went dead, as the shock wave finally caught up to it. It wasn't shortly after that that the news broadcaster stated that they were switching to another live stream coming from the planet. It switched to Parzival as he appeared to be back in the basic avatar clothing. I was confused on how his avatar could have survived. He made the proclamation of sharing his winnings with the other members of the High Five, and then turn his head (I assumed at that moment that he was getting an audio feed from RL that it distracted him for a moment). I pulled my computer chair over to the desk to watch on the screen as he managed to make it into the gate. Of course, everyone else knows what happened after that.

Everyone was glued to their screens and watching on the edge of their seats. The only honest OASIS user in the competition was against IOI users in a final mad-dash to the finish by playing Tempest. The OASIS system took over every video stream and news feed to broadcast it. The entire fate of the OASIS rested on that kid's shoulders and I could notice it with how hard he was playing the game. I sat there, wondering who it was that was going to make it across the finish line first. Then it switched to them all being in a recreation of Monty Python And The Holy Grail (I'm more of a Life of Brian fan myself, as it was one of the films my mom and I had in common in liking). Of course, Parzival managed to get what appeared to be a high score from that, and ended up being the victor. And finally, a playthrough of Adventure to find the maker's name, with Parzival getting the Egg. What had been a rather hard fight ended on a good note at that moment. I switched off my computer, picking up the battle rig and visor off the floor and placing them on the table. I pulled my hands from my haptic gloves, my fingers sticky with sweat. I decided to crawl back into bed and take a nap.

It took about three days for the accounts of everyone whose avatars met their demise on Chthonia to be restored, except for the IOI accounts. Everyone had their avatars put back at their rankings and their inventory items they lost restore. I was able to get my items back, including the Curbstomper. Looking at it, it gave me this sense that it had become an important artifact in my virtual life. It was when I checked to make sure my original level back when I first noticed it on my profile under the Achievements section. The 16-bit golden coin with the outline of Anorak's Castle and the title: Battle of the Third Gate: We Will Be Invincible. I also noticed another achievement underneath, a 16-bit castle door with the title: The Grey Squad: I Move For No Man! I couldn't believe that whoever it was that came up with that achievement cross-referenced two different stories. But I was glad they didn't use any Game of Thrones references. I fucking hate Game of Thrones, and that would have been a thorn in my side forever. I pulled up Aech's profile and sent him an IM, asking him to have both achievements removed. I felt like I didn't really deserve them. To me, the call to arms was a civic duty, not an achievement. Aech would reply back a few hours later: Suck it up, old-timer. You earned it.

That kid made me question if it was a jab or if he actually meant what he said. At that point, I didn't care. A little while after, I had finally agreed to take him up on a PvP challenge, and we found out who the best was. We both promised to keep who the victor was quiet. When it came to Dellielah, she wanted to get back with me. Though after the war, we ended on a much better note than where we left before that. I convinced her to go back to her husband. After loading all my items back into my storage unit, I rezzed Hobbes. The first action he performed was yawning as if waking from being asleep. I don't know why he did it, as I sure didn't program that into him. I ran my hand over his crystal skinned head, which prompted him to close his eyes and stretch his head out. I patted him on his side before standing up.

"Hobbes, free roam," I gave the command, him getting up and walking away.

I made my way out of the house to the garage. I wasn't sure if the 80s nostalgia trend was going to continue or not, especially since the whole trip began due to Halliday's Easter Egg hunt. But after checking my store again, I still saw the wooden cabinet TV had sixty-three sales made since the last time. I push the thought of if the trend will hold up out of my head as I got to work. I rezzed a cube to begin my sculpting, attaching my headphones and Zune, listening to "Rome Wasn't Built In A Day" by Morcheeba. If the trend does wear off, then I'll evolve with everything else. Things come and go, trends rise and fall. Battles and wars are fought, there are victors and losers. But there's always one thing that you can do: hold the line. No matter where you go, no matter what happens to you, hold the line.