I twisted my head, hoping to pop the kink out. I hadn’t slept well and the pain in my neck was creeping up the back of my skull. Liquor never sat well with me, which is why I seldom joined the other Admins for drinks.

  Turning the wheel of my car, I went around the back of a large warehouse, finally coming to a stop in a parking lot where their data analyst planned to meet me. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath after chugging a swig of coffee. The stand I drove through earlier was hidden behind a car repair shop, and they were the best with their ratio of frothed milk to hard pressed grounds.

  I heard deep whirring overhead as an airship – the same model as Russ’ – was landing several yards away. A tall, slender man with short black hair and glasses stepped out of the hatch, approaching my car. His white, tailored suit had a patch sewn on the front with the number Eight being encircled with wavy lines. I recognized it as the logo for the developer.

  “They haven’t even passed our QC and they already dropped money on a logo?” I mused aloud. “Clearly they’re committed to releasing this game.”

  I stepped out of my car, extending my hand.

  “You must be Jin,” the analyst said, returning my handshake. “I’m Ijimori, from SensEight Games,” he finished, introducing himself.

  I noticed he had a tablet computer tucked under his other arm.

  “Should I link in on the way there?” I asked, pointing to it.

  He shook his head, lifting his tablet with a smile. “No, I’ll get you admin privileges once we arrive at the studio. I brought this so we could have you complete all the appropriate paperwork. It’s better to get that out of the way early.”

  “Sounds good,” I replied.

  He turned on his heel, and I followed him up the hatch. This ship was retro fitted with an extra seat behind the driver. I watched Ijimori take that spot, and I took the seat close to the door, directly across from him.

  “Have you reviewed any of Mason’s work?” he asked.

  “Straight to the point,” I answered with a laugh. “Yea, I read his report.”

  Ijimori swallowed, setting his tablet down on a fold out shelf to his right. “We were very sorry to see his injury, he was so close to finalizing everything.”

  “That was one thing I was curious about,” I began. “He mentioned being about seventy-five percent through.”

  Ijimori nodded. “He just had the final difficulty, the one meant for professionals,” his eyes narrowed. “Did he mention that specifically?”

  I shook my head. “I’m guessing there’s a few things he didn’t have time to say, since he wanted it turned in to OST before surgery.”

  Ijimori took a moment before replying, a thoughtful look on his face as he stared out the window. Finally, he turned his eyes back to me. “Did he mention the main villains run on generative AI models, rather than linear code.”

  “Yea,” I answered. “It said in the overview that you built the weapons, scenery and items, but that many of the important characters operate on their own.”

  “And you have experience with that?” he asked me.

  “Plenty,” I replied. “If you’ve played Cyber Cell, I did the QC on that.”

  His eyes grew wide with glee. “Aaah, fantastic! Many of my colleagues really enjoyed that shooter. The procedural generation for enemies was exceptional for such a small team.”

  His voice had an odd nasally tone that made his excitement appear creepy. I kept my short smile, leaning back in my seat, ensuring he didn’t notice any judgment coming from me. Data analysts talked to everyone in the development process, so I didn’t need a reason for him to nudge the programmers into putting extra pressure on me in-game.

  His eyes turned to the window, then he snatched his tablet before extending it to me. “If you could sign these, and also download the user manual.”

  I calmly took the tablet and signed the standard waiver. No pay until I reached a milestone, no suing them for injuries, etc. The only milestone Mason left was the highest difficulty.

  ‘Good thing he made some token before he got hurt,’ I thought, clicking a check box before sliding my finger across the signature line.

  “Thank you,” Ijimori said as I handed back the tablet. “We’re just in time.”

  The ship crested over a four-story tower which sat on one end of a small, floating island. It was common to have large companies purchase or lease these miniature plots of hovering land for resorts or the like. But it was unheard of for an indie studio. Of course, I was surprised reading this in the report last night. Somehow, SensEight had the funding to snag a place like this and planned to make it a full-on AR gaming resort. They even had sections of it being prepared for sequels if the first game was a hit. Despite digging for every shred of info on the company, I wasn’t able to uncover their outside investors.

  After reaching our landing spot, Ijimori unclipped his belt and opened the hatch. I stood at the edge of the doorway, watching the large ramp lower.

  “We’ll head to that building, where they’ll get your suit ready,” he said, pointing to a set of double doors.

  From the looks of it, the building used to be a hotel and was still in decent shape. From my vantage point at the top of the ramp, I noticed several other similar structures in the distance. Each of them still in great shape with no signs of the deterioration you’d expect to find on an abandoned resort. I doubted this island was foreclosed on very long before they got their hands on it.

  “Have you been stationed up here for a while?” I asked.

  Ijimori bowed his head, smiling. “Only a few months. We were in a warehouse in Chushin working on models for a year before that. It took a bit to get the right aesthetic for the characters.”

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  Heading inside the double doors, we were met by a well-lit lobby with twenty-foot ceilings. I followed as he took a right and continued down a long hallway.

  “Do you have a scale for your professional difficulty?” I asked.

  “We don’t,” he replied. “We put most of our funds into getting this property, so we had to scale back on a few additional modes.”

  I was surprised they’d spent their money on this gaudy location instead of adding scale to their “real stakes” difficulty. Companies who had a mode using Pro-level haptic suits, usually wanted to capture the widest audience possible. Aside from the actual pros, tons of rich people wanted to experience the adrenaline of real physical danger, as long as they could set the pain to more tolerable levels.

  “One more question before I get linked up,” I said.

  Turning on his heel to face me, Ijimori wore a long toothy grin. His attempts at politeness went over about as well as soaking wet bread.

  I swallowed, trying not to react so quickly to his odd expressions. “Are there more details on what this game actually is? The report said there’s factions and choices, but it didn’t specify anything more. The style of characters, weapons, and upgrades were all left out.”

  His eyebrows raised, a look of confusion crossing his face. “I’m surprised he left those details out. It must have been a short report.”

  I shrugged and sighed. “Every fix he made was listed, but the actual contents and synopsis of the game was only a couple pages.”

  Ijimori tilted his head, but kept his eyes on me. “Well, I’ll be happy to answer your query. Our game is a shooter set in a city taken over by three gangs,” he said, holding up three fingers. He tucked the tablet under his arm and continued. “You can align yourself with any of them, but your choices have consequences. Most of the weaponry are guns that you can calibrate and upgrade. There are some abilities too, but you’ll see those when you choose your class.”

  I took a deep breath. It was a relief knowing he was so transparent. I was beginning to worry about the missing details in Mason’s report.

  “Any other concerns?” he asked me.

  I wore a plain expression, shaking my head. He nodded eagerly before opening the door to a room and gesturing for me to enter. Inside were a few desks occupied by men clicking and typing away on laptops. At the opposite end hung a large gray and black suit with shoulder and elbow pads.

  “If you could put that on, we can get your debug equipment set to Admin privileges,” he instructed.

  Bringing my hand down to my leg, the debug pistol unfolded from a rectangular shape before I snatched it. Ijimori looked impressed as I handed it over.

  “This is top of the line,” he noted, gazing over it. “Your other colleague used a baton.”

  I shrugged. “Yea, Mason likes to run simple equipment, relying on the projections to make up the rest. He’s also big on point and click. Me,” I said, thumbing to my chest. “I prefer to have a little more flair.”

  Ijimori chuckled at my statement while approaching one of the men at their desk. They took the pistol and plugged a cord into the port near the menu screen on one end, then put the other into their laptop. Rather than wait for him to finish, I took my chance to grab the haptic suit and enter the large closet they’d turned into a changing room.

  I was surprised how comfortable it was, despite all the buckles, pads, and straps. Running my hand on the fabric, I noticed it had a rough exterior. Based on how durable it felt, it definitely wasn’t cheap to make.

  Stepping out the door, Ijimori already had my debug pistol waiting for me in his outstretched hand.

  “Thanks,” I said, collecting it from him.

  I went to place it on my hip instinctively, and the pants of this jumpsuit had a puck on the side as well.

  “There’s several places to rest your pistol,” Ijimori said, answering my unspoken question. “In addition to the either side of your pants, the shoulder pads have them as well. One is also built into your back padding.”

  My brow furrowed into a confused stare, wondering why I would need something with so many options to attach my equipment.

  “Did you add these for physical items inside the game?” I asked.

  “There’s some, but the extra pucks are mostly to let you place your pistol wherever necessary. Combat is quite fierce at pro difficulty,” Ijimori answered, adjusting his glasses.

  “Alright,” I replied, taking a moment to move my arms to test the suit’s flexibility. “I’ll be ready for whatever you throw at me.”

  “Good,” he answered in a calm, low tone. “I’ll take you to the starting point.”

  * * *

  I stood before a massive wall split down the middle. Two sections separated and slid away from each other, revealing the location Omen took place in. It was a triangular courtyard about the size of two city blocks in either direction. At each of the three points sat a massive twenty story hotel. The glass windows running up their sides gleaming the hazy orange glow of fading evening sunlight. Surprisingly, everything was still in its original state and nothing had projected to my contacts yet.

  “Step through to begin,” Ijimori instructed.

  He was holding his tablet against his chest and wearing an eager smile. I nodded and walked through the threshold. Bright neon letters written in a font littered with jagged lines jumped before my vision.

  OMEN - they read.

  The letters pulsed briefly before they melted away in a puddle of glowing light. A cutscene flashed next.

  A deep voice, like dripping molasses narrated. “The Cyber-Ware district, a subset of the city Omen, has been taken over by three rival factions who’ve carved out distinct territories. What once was the most profitable cybernetics market, has become a dangerous gangland. You’ve been sent by the Special Investigations Division of the Omen government to infiltrate and restore order.

  While the narrator spoke, I saw flashes of each gang using different weapons to kill what looked like four legged monsters. It also showed one specific person for each gang standing on the top floor of a skyscraper, clearly indicating who the leaders were.

  The voice continued. “You’ve been given full control over this mission and are at your complete discretion to thwart or work with any faction you choose. Just ensure you destroy at least one of them, so we can occupy their section and begin resuming control of the region.”

  The courtyard and buildings changed once the scene concluded. The area now resembled a neon drenched city bustling with activity. Taking a moment, I unhooked my debug pistol and swiped through the screen on the side until it was in Scan-Mode. Slowly waving it before me, I didn’t detect any issues.

  I wonder where you select classes? I thought, staring ahead to the litany of shops being projected in the town square.

  Wandering to the closest one, I heard something.

  Screams echoing from far away rushing toward me like a wave. Wood, food, and fabric flew in the air as something ravaged its way through the crowd.

  One of the four legged beasts skittered to a stop, finishing its run only a few feet from me. My heart raced as I watched its movements. It looked like a mastiff made of shimmering metal, but was much larger. It had to at least be the size of my car.

  Alright. I told myself. They wouldn’t put an enemy this early in the game without a way to beat it.

  A bit of light glinted off something on the ground. I snatched up the long object and swung it for the beast. It lept back quickly, but wasn’t afraid. I glanced at my new makeshift weapon, realizing I’d snagged a metal pipe that likely came from one of the smashed tents. It circled me and I moved with it, not letting it take my back. The shops were behind me now, opening an opportunity to make a break for it and find something better to fight with.

  The crowd shrieked again. I glanced over my shoulder to see what the commotion was, but kept one eye on the enemy. My stomach dropped as two more of the metal mastiffs sauntered forward. Their faces wore an excited look of hunger, like a pack of tigers ready to rip a gazelle to shreds.

  There goes my escape route. I muttered under my breath.

  I tried to calm my nerves as my eyes darted about for any sign of safety. Completely surrounded, the pack lunged for me, ready to tear me apart.