Beginning
Turning away from the staircase, I walk towards the Gate of the Beginning. I grip the lever of the door and turn it downwards. The door opens. Tentatively, I step through it, the guide NPC following closely behind without a word.
I find myself in a wide hall, lined with empty, cylindrical glass tanks. Numerous segmented tubes snake about the place and disappear into the dark walls. I hear the door closing behind me, and when I turn around, I find - not unexpectedly - that the way out is no longer there. At the end of the hall is a throne, with the skeletal remains of some long-dead king resting upon it, a tarnished crown still adorning his skull. I have no memory of this place.
“Can the creator modify my memories?” I ask.
“Yes, sir. Modification is possible though limited by the awareness of the user that the memories have been extracted from. Modification beyond the limits of the parameters would result in unacceptable levels of distortion and eliminate immersion. This would cause the brain to reject the current reality and attempt to awaken.”
“Specify these limits.”
“Events that have never been experienced by the user will result in distortion.”
I pause for a while, looking down the corridor.
“What if I had once dived into a virtual game where I was a hero that fought dragons? Would that count as an event that I have experienced?”
“This program has been heavily modified. The original program was not designed for presenting fictional scenarios. My information indicates that the user’s capability to distinguish between fiction and reality is monitored by the program and used as a baseline for projecting the memories. Any fiction will result in rejection.”
“This is certainly fictional,” I say as I gesture down the corridor. “Where would I find a throne in the middle of what looks like an experimental facility in real life? Watch, once I walk down the corridor, that corpse is going to start talking to me.”
I do so, and once I get within two metres of the throne, the event triggers, just as I expected. I recall encountering a scenario like this in one of the old games I have played: Tomb of the Biolich. The corpse’s empty eye sockets glow with a pale blue fire as it stirs.
“Who… dares… interrupt my... slumber?” moans the dead king, its voice thin and reedy. It stops and waits for me to respond. It’ll wait for as long as needs be; it was a pretty shitty game.
I turn to the Kyrie NPC. There is a slightly perplexed expression on that face which smoothens out when she notices me looking at her. As an AI it is clunky, still far below what Yua is capable of, but it is quite improved from the usual fare I encounter. I wonder if it is itself customized. “It appears that the creator has made some modifications to the demarcation line between fiction and reality. There remains a limit on what the user can be presented, as it appears the system still does not allow fully fabricated events to occur.”
“I see. By the way, you said that the brain would attempt to awaken if it rejects the virtual reality. Does that mean that there is a chance it would fail to awaken?”
“There is a 5% probability of failure with standard hardware. I have no information about your method of access at the moment and as such am unable to give you an exact figure.”
“What happens in the event of a failure?”
“The user would still awaken, but their mind begins to reject the real world. Rapid mental breakdown follows subsequently, with total psychosis setting in no more than one week after awakening.” There seemed to be a movie made about this disease a while back; I never got around to watching it. Still, my curiosity is satisfied for now. I better get back to the lich.
“It is I,” I call out, “a humble seeker of knowledge.” The game had the player in the role of a knowledge hunter who sought out rare, precious tomes in a post-apocalyptic world where magic and technology coexisted. The Biolich was said to be an ancient king that once knew all there was to be known, and had turned himself into an immortal entity to preserve that knowledge. Hovering in a state of undeath, he slept, only opening his eyes and giving out instruction to those that would prove worthy. Those that were unworthy met with swift, terrible death.
“What... KNOWLEDGE... do you seek, wizard?” asks the Biolich as it shifts in its throne, parts of the ragged finery turning into dust as it does so. There are numerous tubes running from its body into the throne, which seems to act as a life support system - this close, I can hear a low thrum of machinery under my feet.
In the game, you could ask for power, riches and other more materialistic requests, but right now there’s only one thing I’m here for, and it’s a question that was not offered as a choice in the game.
“I seek knowledge of myself, ancient one.”
The Biolich’s skull nods.
“That is... a worthy quest... wizard. Finding... yourself is dangerous but... rewarding.” It stretches out one skeletal hand and extends a finger. A stairway of light descends from the ceiling on my left.
Suddenly, the Biolich shudders, and repeats its movement again. Another stairway descends, this time on my right. This wasn’t in the game - there, you just had to make your request of the lich, and it would send you to the Forest of Darkness to retrieve the Orb of Eternity before it would grant you the knowledge you sought. There wasn’t any choice. As I said, it was a pretty shitty game.
“Ascend. Pick one of two. On your left lies the path to remember what you already know. On the right you shall find what you have forgotten.” groans the lich, a lot more fluently this time. After it finishes delivering its message, the fire in its eyes go out and it falls still again.
I turn to the NPC. “Guide, what is the difference between the two stairs?”
The guide walks in front of me and starts looking up the glowing stairs. After a while, she shakes her head and looks back at me.
“Sir, each of the stairs leads you to a different part of World 0. I am afraid I cannot give you any more details than that.”
The lich’s message seems strange. Is there a difference between remembering what I already know, and finding what I have forgotten?
***
A. I ascend the steps to remember what I already know.
B. I ascend the steps to find out what I have forgotten.