Void Legion Read online

  Life had become so different since they lost Pops. He immediately saw Alphonso: light-skinned, a gray beard that would give Santa Claus a run for his money, and smiling eyes that seemed to know everything. Why’d you have to get yourself killed? Dre shook his head.

  He remembered the times Pops would talk about his own days gaming. Pops loved the old classics like World of Warcraft, Lineage 2, Fortnite, Red Dead Redemption, Horizon Zero Dawn, God of War, Zelda, and Final Fantasy. He’d even mention games Dre couldn’t imagine playing and had only seen in old videos. Ancient pixelated 2D games like Castlevania and Contra.

  Pops bragged that his favorite gaming company before it went belly up was Konami. He often complained that today’s companies had killed the joy of gaming. He would go on and on about back in the day when there would be Easter Eggs, puzzles, and hidden code within games.

  Dre missed Pops so much. He often imagined they were in a VR world. Those days and worlds had been as much about fun as they had been about learning. He and Pops had spent countless hours in VR, whether it was for academics, fitness training, mixed martial arts, or shooting.

  There was a time he had hated the educational aspect. Sometimes it was a bore. But now, with Pops gone, Dre wished he could do it again. His heart grew heavy.

  He recalled how Pops and Uncle Kim would test him after every session. Physically or mentally. Repetitions of MMA styles and moves. Hours spent in real life target practice or shooting courses. Dismantling and reassembling guns. The tests became a game of sorts. They’d try to trick him into a mistake. Or try to outdo him.

  Andre smiled. He got the better of them more often than not. He even won several 3-Gun competitions. His reward would be to play VR games. Driving simulators, military shooters, adventure, or role-playing games. When Dre started playing Ataxia, he had found his love.

  The night they got the fateful call rose fresh in Dre’s mind. They’d been living in the Mid Ward in Prospect Heights. Pops had been on his way home from another late night at work, designing AI for some Corp he never spoke about. He’d lost control of the company car; it had struck a median and burst into flames. Not even the traffic drones could put out the fire.

  That was six months ago. To this day, Dre’s main questions about the accident went unanswered. What caused it? Why was Pops’ car off the Grid?

  Dre chased away the memory. If you were here, we wouldn’t be living in this shithole, Mom wouldn’t have needed to work eighty-hour weeks, and I coulda stayed in college. Well, you always talked my head off about being a man, not taking handouts, not letting people take advantage of me, about standing on my own two feet. I’m my own man now.

  Life was difficult enough before. And had grown near impossible since. No matter how Dre tried, he couldn’t make up for Pops’ salary or for the hours Mom wasn’t getting paid while on bed rest. Even with his OT, they barely managed credits for rent, food, gas for Pops’ old car, and their cell phone plan, despite the benefits of living in a rent-stabilized building and having a Rental Assistance Voucher from the city. Anything else was a luxury. New clothes were out of the question. Christmas was two months away, and it might be the worst one ever. Thanksgiving? He didn’t want to think about. And he might as well just forget about his seventeenth birthday in a month.

  Whenever he complained about their shitty building or the even shittier neighborhood, Mom would say that at least they had a roof over their heads. If he mentioned how many hours she worked, she’d say that when you work hard for things you need, you appreciate them more. That there was honor in hard work that can’t be earned any place else.

  Sometimes, she’d point to a newsflash about the crazy stuff happening in the First Ward: the killings over food and water, the gangs, the human trafficking, the disease-plagued DeGens who called the place home, and say he should be grateful they weren’t living there.

  He snorted as he recalled Mom’s struggle to find and get accepted into this building as if it were some prize. As if she forgot the last time they lived a few blocks from the sea when Hurricane Perol had destroyed everything. He still remembered the horror of swimming through water up to his neck, thinking he was going to drown. Just like the time in Barbados. If Pops hadn’t been there… Dre banished the thought before it festered.

  Despite all that, Mom had refused to give up Regina and Rayne. Stubborn as ever, Mom had also refused to ask for help from any of their family or friends. She’d also made him promise not to contact any of them. Ever. Not even Uncle Kim. He’d cut off every friend but one.

  She’d been forceful about it, which he chalked up to a few things: pride, shame, and fear. Pride in that she felt they could manage all on their own. Shame at their fall from Mid Warders to barely Bottom Warder status. Fear of the Better Tomorrow Law. Getting pregnant again meant a knock on the door from the Family Planning Corps. A visit from NAIL. Sterilization. Or worse. He didn’t want to think about the worse.

  He spent days dreaming they could win the Massive Millions Lottery. He could buy their Citizenship and solve all their problems. Each day he’d short himself a bagel or coffee before work so he could drop a credit on a ticket. A dollar and a dream. That was Pops’ old saying.

  The Massive Millions might have been the only type of easy money Pops might have accepted. And in truth, it wasn’t easy money. Dre snorted, driving away thoughts of real vacations to some exotic island, living on the hundredth floor in the Mid Wards, or better yet, past a hundred and fifty in the Upper Wards. Preferably some place Downtown Brooklyn. And well away from the ocean.

  Forget all that, he thought. Right now, just earning a hundred more credits sounds good.

  Mom had spent their savings on secret doctors to ensure Regina and Rayne would be born healthy. He didn’t blame her. They were the last things she had of Pops, of thirty years of marriage.

  It was the same reason he cherished the aether ring replica Pops had given him for his sixteenth birthday. Pops had called it the Two Ring. Dre smiled as he recalled that day, and the fact Pops had known to buy him a replica from Ataxia Online. The ring was perfect, down to the engraving of a two and his name, the patterns, and the black metal.

  He made to rub the ring when he realized it was missing from his pinky. Where’d I put the damn thing? He checked the couch to either side of him and atop the stained and cracked glass center table. The Two Ring wasn’t in either place.

  “Mommy calling you, Dre,” Kai said from the start of the hallway.

  “Tell her I’m coming.” He waved off his little sister.

  A video of a new Giant Ugly Mofo popped up on his tablet screen. Dre smiled at the beast’s size and features, the very reason GUMs were Giant Ugly Mofoes. This GUM was a void revenant the size of a house. The nebulous creature threw its bird-like head of white bone and whiter beak to the sky and screeched. It held a storm lance in one clawed hand. Dark tendrils of void energy coiled between the curled horns on its head.

  A full group battled the void revenant. One was a human, two were eradae who reminded Dre of horned succubi, one was a giant crimson-skinned gurash, and the other was a winged yurid. Their class choices were dementer, mystic, marksman, marauder, and cutthroat.

  Dre studied their tactics and set up. The marauder was the tank, trying to soak up the GUM’s damage while generating threat with attacks meant to keep the void revenant aggroed or targeting him rather than the weaker players or glass cannons in the group, namely the marksman and the cutthroat. The damage dealers or DPSers were the cutthroat, marksman, and dementer. While the mystic could do some damage, her main role in this fight was as a healer and buffer.

  Shoulda been the dementer as tank for this GUM.

  The dementer had the best gear, and with his insane damage, he kept pulling aggro, which meant the GUM would turn to attack him. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue because dementers had high Hit Points. But the void revenant’
s Shadow Lightning was jumping from the dementer to the cutthroat and the marksman. The mystic was having a hell of a time healing all three when that happened. They nearly died several times.

  The encounter finally went to shit when the cutthroat pulled aggro, causing the GUM to turn to the three DPSers just as it was casting Shadow Wave. The ability stunned them all. The GUM finished them with Black Storm, a hail of shadowy bolts from the sky.

  Dre smirked at the group. Bunch o’ noobs. Bet I could solo that bad boy with my sorcerer. Full end game hierka gear, genesis grade? Pfffttt. The damage would be insane. He frowned, contemplating the GUM’s abilities. If he was also fully sharded, both for weapons and skill effects, his sorc could pull it off. He envisioned his tactics: a glowing chakram in each hand, he fired off spell combos and used stuns, leaps, and Flickers to avoid attacks while kiting the monster. The idea made him smile.

  His cell vibrated on the glass table. He leaned over, took a look at the name, and then flicked his finger across the screen. “What up, dawg.”

  Hughey’s nasal, excited voice piped through the Bluetooth headphones. “Yo, Dre, tell me you saw it?”

  “Saw what?” Dre grinned. “The argument in the store between Habib and the gangsta?”

  “Nah,” Hughey began.

  Dre ignored Hughey and continued, “Yo, the expression on homeboy’s face when Habib told him to shaddup was an instant classic.” Dre chuckled, reliving the incident. “With that accent, too. And when homeboy tried to drop a threat and Habib doubled down with shaddup, shaddup. Talking about eyes popping outta someone’s head.”

  “No, fool, that’s not what I meant,” Hughey said.

  Dre grinned wider this time. “Ah, you mean the DeGen at the train station. That Maglev–”

  “I don’t mean any of that,” Hughey blurted, frustration in his voice.

  “What you talking about then?” Dre could barely stop himself from sputtering. “The new Star Wars trailer?” He hoped his best and only friend didn’t hear the laughter in his voice.

  “You playing around right?” Hughey asked.

  “Huh?” Dre frowned. “The biggest movie fanatic I know hasn’t seen–”

  “Come on, man, I know you saw it.”

  “Hugh, if it ain’t Episode 13–”

  “The Void Legion video, fool!”

  “Void Legion?” Dre fought the urge to burst into laughter.

  “Stop playing. It’s the Ataxia expansion! How could you–”

  “Oh, thaaat.” Dre shrugged.

  “Oh, that? Oh, that? You can’t be serious.”

  Dre could picture Hughey turning red. He guffawed, unable to keep up the act. “Shaddup,” he said. And laughed even louder. “Of course, I saw it. And it’s not an expansion. It’s almost a different game. Yo, did you see the new weapons? The damage is insane.”

  They chattered away, breathlessly exchanging opinions on one new feature or another, sharing insight on the many possibilities. One of the main points was how would BioGen compensate the old players who wanted to keep their characters. There was talk about giving them boosted stats at the start and perhaps credits, special armor, a rare mount, and titles. Perks to mark them as veterans.

  Kai’s small brown-skinned hand appeared in front of Dre’s face. Dre faked as if he were about to pounce on her and said, “Rawrr.” She scurried away, stopped at the hallway, and stuck her tongue out. With a smile and a shake of his head, Dre got to his feet with his phone in hand and strode over to the window.

  Some ten floors below, the glare of NYPD emergency lights brightened the intersection of Mermaid Avenue and 17th street and the garbage-filled alley beside the building. A few more of the fixtures were spread about the property, particularly in a parking lot rife with empty spaces, and next to the long-abandoned basketball courts and playground. Rats the size of small dogs scurried about a dumpster in their nocturnal foraging.

  Another three thousand feet from the building was the massive sea wall. The ocean beyond it was a black soup as was the sky. Dre couldn’t imagine swimming in the stuff. He’d rather forget any contact he ever had with the ocean. Or any sort of deep water. Only nightmares waited there.

  Several red and yellow blips marked the path of patrolling EVTOL aircraft equipped with smog vacuums. The wall made Dre wonder after Pops’ stories about the old days before Hurricane Donald. Pops had come to New York City on vacation multiple times before 2020 and claimed Coney Island was known back then for its theme park, concerts, the MCU stadium, and Nathan’s Hot Dogs. People were actually able to go down to the beach and swim in what was now polluted water infested with mutated fish.

  Dre shook his head. The 20th century and first quarter of the 21st mostly sounded like heaven when compared to this era. The last twenty-five years had seen a glut of super storms, the Climatic Shift, the Global Energy Crisis, the Great Migration, and the Second Civil War, quickly followed by the War of the Americas. He could only imagine a time when the country was the United States of America rather than the North American Republic.

  He reminded himself to prune the Grid for video of those days. If any still existed. Which reminded him of Pop’s stories about a time before the Grid, when the internet connected everyone in the world.

  “This means you coming back, right?” Hughey asked, breaking Dre from his thoughts. Dre remained silent as Hughey continued, “I signed up for the free trial. You should too.” Dre still refused to answer. “Just Blaze been talking a lotta shit on the forums. Said you’re lucky you quit.”

  “And you believe that nonsense?” Dre grimaced. “Come on, bruh, I’d still be top dog across all servers if I was playing.”

  “I said the same thing, but she said you needed to come prove it. Even said you were shook.”

  “Me? Scared? Please. I’d have no probs with her. She don’t want no smoke with me. She still running that cutthroat… ummmmm… Gilda Mordian?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’d make light work of that chick.”

  “I don’t knowww. She bust your boy’s ass.”

  “Which boy?” Dre frowned. Hughey was the only one he’d played with in Ataxia after their guild broke up.

  “Dante Blackblade and his marauder.”

  “Blackblade? My boy?” Dre scoffed. “Pffffttt.”

  “Shaddup.” Hughey chuckled. Dre laughed in turn. “I know,” Hughey continued. “Still, the duel wasn’t even close, homie. Just Blaze straight slayed him.”

  “Damn.”

  “She’s definitely a prob. She’s gotten some real skills since you left, even beat what you couldn’t. Castle Dhoom on Heroic. She off-tanked the two chimera guards while the rest of the guild killed Emperor KiGyaba.”

  “The Emperor KiGyaba? As in the last boss? The hydra god?”

  “Hmm hmmm.”

  “Shit. Two GUMs? At the same time? With a cutthroat’s HP?” Dre envisioned the class’ Hit Points, Gilda’s health meter. “Nahhhh, I’m not buying that one, Hugh. Splash damage from their AOEs woulda killed her.”

  “I’m telling you, dawg. I watched the video. She had no probs. And it’s on the forum kill list. Check the link I sent you.”

  A notification popped up on Dre’s phone. He swiped. A video ran, showing Gilda Mordian’s duel with Dante Blackblade as well as the battles throughout Heroic Castle Dhoom. It was a guild run, but she was the leader, the focus, and made everything so much easier. Her skill was breathtaking. Beautiful. She wove her way through enemies like a dancer gliding across a crowded ballroom.

  At Emperor KiGyaba, she was even better. The Emperor was a hydra boss known to drop aggro, stop attacking the tank or whomever it had generated the most hate toward, and target whomever was fighting the guards. Gilda employed Escape perfectly every time, vanishing to erase her threat level while avoiding the splash damage of Empe
ror KiGyaba’s Area of Effect spells, dodging the numerous snake-like heads, and still picking up the chimera guards before they charged into the raid to wreak havoc. Her HP never dropped below half. Dre couldn’t recall seeing anything so amazing.

  “Wow,” he whispered.

  “Exactly.”

  “But she still needed her guild.” Dre shrugged. “I was doing it with randoms.”

  The idea of a return was tempting. So tempting. He did have several email invites to alpha test. One of them had even offered to pay him. Dre started to count hours and credits in his head, then stopped and took a breath, chest aching.

  He remembered his promise to Mom and Pops to stop playing. For now, his gaming days were done.

  “Dre!” Kai shouted.

  He turned from the window to face his little sister.

  She was standing at the hallway entrance again, hands on hips, impatiently tapping one foot. “Mommy wants you.”

  Dre didn’t move.

  She turned her hands, palms up, and stuck her head forward with all the attitude of a nine-year-old. “Nowwww.” She disappeared back the way from which she’d come.

  “Andreeeeeee!” Mom’s wail echoed.

  Dre shook his head. What is it this time? he thought, then he said, “Yo, Hugh, I gotta go. Holla at you later. And… Shaddup.” Hughey repeated the goodbye. Dre smiled, sighed, pressed the disconnect button on his headphones, and dropped his cell on the couch.

  “Yes, Mom!” he yelled.

  Before he took another step there was a rumble, a thump, and a stifled cry.

  “Mom?” Frowning, he crossed the living room to the hall.

  Little Kai was standing in front the bathroom door, her mouth forming an O. Her eyes bulged. And then her face contorted. She burst into sobs.