Digitas Chapter 5

“Stop! Stop! STOP!” Henry yelled as he ran down the spiral staircase leading to PruHQ’s main hall. His palms were sweaty with anxiety as he held his device up, his heart stopping every time he lost a life signal.

 

“Hey… Henry my man. Ready to go?” a familiar voice rang out as Henry turned the corner. There stood a round, slightly-larger-than-the-average man sporting a messy hairdo and unshaven facial hair. It was one of his colleagues who joined recently; Brandon “unscripted” Khoo.

 

“Just sent 10 of my buds home, you wanna go next?” Brandon asked with an over-excited smile as he lifted his equally large and messy axe-club.

 

“No! No! You got to listen to me… we are not sending them home. Brandon, we sent them to their deaths-!” Henry pleaded as he avoided an overhead swing from the massive club.

 

“Yeah okay. So…. Kill?” Brandon asked, clearly devoid of rational thought as he swung in vain at the lean and quick corporate executive.

 

“Snap out of it!” Henry yelled as the giant club barely scratched his cheek; avoiding certain death. Brandon was a berserker, this Henry knew, strong headstrong warriors who traded their sanity for immense strength. Not that is was much of a drawback for him; he didn’t have much to begin with. Berserkers could go on forever, partly because unlike the technical know-how and the concentration needed to pull out spells and techniques, self-developed or not, berserkers are literally just swinging a weapon around. Heavy weapons are favored due to their innate destructive nature.

 

It was a controversial class. There was an obvious concern on the ability of the console to withhold certain degrees of control and inhibition in humans as displayed when a berserker utilizes their abilities. But with near half of the world’s economy hinging on the free and smooth operation of Digitas; the approval was passed with a minor majority.

 

“He isn’t listening at all…” Henry muttered to himself as he avoided yet another deadly blow, this time a quick horizontal slash from the left side. Deep down he knew he wasn’t going to take this opponent down with force. But, that has been the story of his character all game; a pacifist. He had never laid a hand on an opponent in his life. His battle experience came solely from a singular role; the healer; even of which he never wanted to join much in the first place. No, he had a unique skillset. Plus, he was here on business. But his experiences in avoiding combat have made him adept at the art of disengaging.

 

“Signum Concilio! Pacify!” Henry concentrated as he projected his focus at the raging berserker. “Aim for the brain, focus line of sight on the brain.” Henry thought to himself as he optimized his spell projection. It was much easier to do it when he was being a jerk at the office; but right now Brandon had a taste of battle; a state of which a berserker is at its prime.

 

Just as the Berserker class addles with the user’s mind, so does certain equally controversial spells. Pacification, confusion or at worst memory-alteration and control were frowned upon with the latter two outright banned and regulated.

 

Even the best spell caster would find it extremely difficult to break through the immunity of a berserker on a rampage, but Henry wasn’t a spell caster, he was a specialist. He knew no other school of spells. Brandon lifted his club one final time, before dropping it dumbfounded.

 

“No kill…” Henry commanded as Brandon blinked around in a daze.

 

“Yeah. No kill.” Brandon copied slowly, still recovering from regaining self-consciousness.

 

Henry breathed a sigh of relief before recalling his initial plan. The Great Hall; he had to stop his Prudential allies from misguidedly destroying their avatars; the only shell protecting them from certain and very real deaths.

 

Henry rushed through the spiral stairs and into the Great Hall only to be greeted by the final white specks of pixel dust; its translucent texture sparkled like the reflection of sunlight on grains of fine sand on the beach. He was too late. Pru-HQ was no longer a corporate building; it was a graveyard. A 20-floor tombstone of which only he and Brandon are the only living souls left.

 

The silence of the hall was deafening and went on for what seemed like the longest time before being interrupted by hurried heavy footsteps from his newly awaken friend. The footstep stopped right at the archway to the Great Hall; speechless just as he was.

 

Just then, the grand sliding entrance doors of Pru-HQ slid open with its usual mechanical sound and there stood a man, clad in full suite of heavy armor. Metallic grey but dulled from being battle weary. Nothing but the lower part of the man’s face could be seen. His stature wasn’t necessarily gigantic, but he definitely appeared imposing and threatening.

 

“Hey, I’m looking for someone to file my claim?” The figure spoke up, surprisingly gentlemanly and refined. “Can you help me? I have been waiting for quite some time. It’s in regards to a failed dungeon run. I am a policyholder.” He continued.

 

“Uh… I -, sorry, what’s your name?” Henry muttered, unsure of what to do.

 

“Jonathan ‘Alphakeeps’ Yam. Same name on the policy. I go by just Jon.” Jon replied as he looked about the place. “Seems a little quiet here. Off day?” he asked as he took off his headgear to reveal his short, black hair. It was a simple and crisp cut. His face bore a strange blend of responsibility but with a twist of carefree jovialness.

 

Henry eyed the visitor for a bit before replying. “You could say that. You just got us on a very bad time.” Henry replied scratching the back of his head, before ascertaining. “Did you, uh, do you know what happened in this world? No one could log out, and…well… all of Prudential is dead.”

 

“Right. I assume that’s good for business?”

 

“No, we literally mean dead kind of dead.” Brandon clarified. “And even if that was the case, that would mean it’s actually bad for business.” He continued only to be stared down by Henry.

 

There was an odd silence before Jon finally spoke up:

 

“Huh….well…. f**k.”