Chapter 3:
Unlimited Horizons
The Amulet’s being weird. It keeps telling me it's Level 2.
“New Opportunities Unlocked!”
Okay, great. New opportunities. Whatever.
I feel like my other recent happening is more of an achievement, and not in a good way. Had never been interviewed by the police before. In the back of a car. In handcuffs.
Whatever. I just wanna… figure out a way to – I don’t know – pay for the Welcomes’s roof.
Or forget it ever happened.
Kinda hard when the gaping hole is covered by what's essentially a bag under boards, flapping in the breeze, and I can’t help but see it on the way out to my car.
“Amulet Level Up! New Opportunities Unlocked!”
I know.
I'm in the car, on the way to work on this bright, sunny Monday afternoon.
The Menu opens when I think of work. It also shows the weather forecast. The Menu is more expansive at Level 2. My delivery stats are there, and there's a list of recent deliveries – EXP gained, as well as money.
Yesterday, at work, I gained 22 EXP as Ryan, for 22 deliveries. That's it? 22 deliveries is a lot for one night. 1 point per delivery seems a little cheap.
I flip to the Windston menu. Acrobatics netted 68 EXP; the fight fled netted me nothing.
Fight? Being shot counts as a fight?
My Clement gained 32 EXP total – for “sneaking” – since I “unlocked” him.
22 EXP until Ryan levels up; 9858 EXP until Windston levels up; 101,234 EXP until Clement levels up.
Oh, and Daily Quota, failed.
“What does that even mean?”
“Daily Quota can be set in Amulet Menu. Do you want to adjust your Daily Quota now?” the robotic Menu asks in its charming female voice.
“Sure,” I say, lighting a cigarette while stopped at a light. “Set it to… 22.”
“Set to 22 EXP for Ryan.”
“Set it that way across the board.”
“Quota set to 22 EXP for all avatars.”
Nice.
Whatever. I don't really know what any of this means. For me, at least – I get the whole level up thing. But what am I gonna do with it? I’m a “cool guy,” according to Jesse Lucas Johnson. Newsflash: Cool guys are cool because they don’t really do anything. They’re chill. Maybe they have a hobby. They definitely have a life. They… chill – I don’t know. Not adventure.
What am I? Bilbo Baggins?
I don’t like adventures, thank you!
No, but… it’s just….
I don’t know.
#
Work is a drag. Mondays can be that way. Only 16 deliveries. Only 16 experience points.
I need to find another way to level up.
I'm just sitting in my car behind work, the plaza, smoking a cigarette. Maybe I’ll feed the ducks.
“Amulet Level Up! New Opportunities Available!”
“Like what?!” I ask – this is the twentieth freaking time it's said that tonight.
“New Side-Quests Menu. Select View Side-Quests to view.”
“View… Side-Quests,” I say with an eye roll.
A new menu pops up. A new upbeat BGM track, and a list of snappy names.
Ryan Side-Quests:
“The Boy in the Woods” – Suggested Level: 9. Reward: Night Vision Spyglass.
“The Broken Wheel” – Suggested Level: 3. Reward: $100.
“Grab a Pouch” – Suggested Level: 2. Reward: Storage x 10.
Storage. That… could be useful.
“What level am I again?” I ask. “As me. As Ryan.”
The Menu. I'm level 2, like the Amulet.
Am I the Amulet? Like, do we level together?
No answer. I guess we’ll find out.
“Menu, I want to do, uh… Grab a Pouch.”
There’s no reply, but the mission title is highlighted, and still lingers briefly in my vision when the Menu closes. As I back out, I wonder if anything, like, happened. Little blue dots appear in front of me, like before, before I snagged the Amulet, so I sigh.
An upbeat track plays but the radio’s off. The trajectory of blue dots adjusts to my every change in direction. It, the stupid system, thinks I should take 200. But I know 20th is better, faster, and take that.
I've taken this route before. I take it all the time.
Halfway home, I realize that’s where I’m headed.
I was right. I'm home.
I sit there, tap the steering wheel, cursing the very sight of the hole in the Welcomes’s roof.
The dots head inside, in my house. I don’t know why. I guess I’ll find out.
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I lumber in. I’m pretty tired. My stamina is a little low.
I’m pretty hungry. That might coincide. Maybe a bite would bring it up.
I do grab a bite. I open the pantry. There’s some chips. Not bad. Not great.
I head into my room and reach for the switch but before I can flip on the light I notice it’s already bright. There’s a light outside, just under the window, a blue one, and it’s sparkling brightly.
I head out back. I wanted a cigarette anyway. I’m so effing addicted at 22.
I light one, staring at the light, a circle of light that cones up and spins about itself. It’s like a video game save point. That’s what it reminds me of.
I take a drag, head that way, leaves crunching beneath my feet as my doggies jump up to say hello.
When I step inside, there’s a chime. A twinkle. An indicator of interaction.
I step out, step back in. Same thing each time.
That, I think, could get annoying.
When I step in a third time, the Menu pops up.
No, not the Menu – I’m mistaken. A menu. A quest menu. It’s asking me to accept.
“Do you want to begin “Grab a Pouch?”
Sure. Not so sure.
I select “Sure.”
I’m immediately somewhere else.
Where? I don’t know. Looks like… a bank vault; I’m in a bank vault. The door’s open. Gunshots, a lot of them, nearby. Muzzle flash draws my eyes to a line of men in masks in the doorway. They’re taking fire and firing.
They’re yelling and hollering, but in what I think might be German.
They’re… cussing, I think.
One got shot.
Holy shit. 150 popped up over his head. Not in white, but in red.
He’s dead. He’s bleeding out from a hole in his head, his brains leaking out, oozing into a puddling puddle of blood on the floor.
His gun’s over him, as well as a bulletproof vest. Not the gun in his hand, or the vest on his chest. But an image of each, spinning in air, like in a video game.
More shooting. A guy got knicked in the arm for 78. It isn’t in red, but there was a bleed effect. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1.
Somebody get that guy a bandage!
He falls over, passed out.
The 1s are now 2s. More than one per second.
A final 2 in red. He’s dead.
Another gun. Another vest. And a helmet.
Only one guy, and he yells, “Shiza!”
Shit – he just saw me. He’s shooting at me, and I duck behind a row of safes. 35 HP a pop, 15 on the ricochet.
Euros fly about everywhere, in piecs. Each that touches me disappears and ends up in my menu.
Shit – I’m getting rich!
I think he’s out of ammo.
Slowly, I peek over. No – he’s been shot.
I hurry over to the guys, pick up their gear by running over them.
I’m in a vest, a helmet and carrying an uzi in each hand.
Holy shit – I look like a thief!
More fire from wherever. I can’t see from where. From outside, outside of the vault.
There’s row after row after row of safes along the vault, and, at the back, an open safe exudes light.
I head over to it. There’s a spinning pouch inside.
I touch it. There’s a sound of victory fanfare.
The police are running in.
“Freeze!” I think they must’ve said in German. I don’t know, because I don’t speak it.
My arms are up anyway. But so are my guns.
Firing, and I’m ducking, and then crawling. Bullets flying everywhere, some mine, most others.
There, across the way! It’s another light, like a save point. It’s in the open, but it’s there.
If I could just somehow get there. Maybe I’d…
I make a run for it. There’s a guy in the way. How stupid – he’s just looking at me.
I shoot him. I actually do it. On impulse – he’s dead.
I shot him for 25 over and over again, the final shot red.
I immediately felt a rush of energy, of strenth, of clarity, of… rage.
Guns blazing, I fire on the others. They fall, one by one – five in all.
Another exhilarating rush. It’s like an orgasm of the being.
Level Up! Level Up! Level Up!
The Menu is open. I’m level 5.
I head to the save point. It’s not a save point, but a warp.
In the back yard, guns in-hand, I fall over; the dogs run over and lick my face.
The Menu. It’s open.
A voice. “10 free slots in inventory.”
In an instant, the vest I’m wearing and the guns vanish. They’re there, listed, rated, priced.
2 x Uzi, single-handed bullet gun. 18 atk. 38 rounds.
3 x body armor. 15 def.
$989.
“What the f#$@.”
I reach into my pocket and think of the money. It fills with a wad of something. When I pull it out, it’s cash.
I put it back. It reappears in the Menu.
I think of the body armor and it’s on. I think of the Uzis and they’re in-hand.
Oh my god. It’s true. I’m in a video game. And it’s real life.
#
It’s 2007 and I have almost a thousand dollars at 22. That’s… not bad.
What should I do?
Get a gym membership, maybe. That kid did, as me.
So, I do.
No Planet Fitness here yet. Only mom and pops. Okana isn’t the biggest town in the world. Maybe 50,000 people, give or take.
I head to Iron Heads and give the counter guy my info and my card. A membership is $190 a year so I buy it outright.
In the bathroom I’m a bit blown away. My muscles are bigger. Not much, but defined.
I’m… honestly, full of energy. I feel like I could just lift and lift and lift.
Used to play video games all the time. Especially JRPGs. But this reminds me of GTA SA. The way you can work out, get ripped fast.
What would a level 5 be like in reality? What was I at 38?
Preivious Avatar:
James Ryan Cobb
Level 3 Human
HP: 88
Intelligence: 47
Strength: 12
Dexterity: 9
Luck: 3
Stamina: 8
Current Avatar:
James Ryan Cobb
Level 5 Human
HP: 118
Intelligence: 37
Strength: 17
Dexterity: 10
Luck: 3
Stamina: 8
Dude, why are some of the stats the same or even worse? Stamina, I can see – I smoke. But intelligence? That’s offensive.
Whatever. I sit down at the nearest machine, an overhead press, and, for kicks, put on my previous max. Jesus. I can hit it five times, easy. I could go all day.
Bench press, free weights… we’ll put on… 225 lbs.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5….
32 times until failure.
I’m, like, as strong as a pro athlete, maybe. Must be the Amulet. It’s, like, steroids x5.
In the showers, I check the Menu. Netted… 18 EXP?!
That’s it!
“Why so little?”
Maybe casual won’t cut it. Maybe I have to push, I guess. I was in danger – grave danger. People died.
The Amulet’s glowing. New Side-Quests Available.
I check it out. Steal a Car, Rob a Bank, Kill Somebody.
What the hell?
A bar I hadn’t noticed. It’s a… shit….
Good and Evil. I guess I’m a little evil, for shooting – gulp – cops.
#
Google isn’t what it was in 2024. Not easy to find anything. So many bank robberies in Germany. Everywhere, really.
Can’t find shit.
Guess I killed a cop or two. That’s really, really shitty. I should… go shower again. Or read the Bible. Or take a nap.
#
Settled on C. Drifting off.
Katie. She’s there. She’s… here. We’re… doing something.
#
I sit up in a cold sweat. I’m… Jesus H Christ.
Time to get up. Only 3am. When does the nightmare end? When do I get to be me again?
“Good Side-Quests. Good Side-Quests.”
“There are no “good” Side-Quests Available. Check back periodically.”
Fine, whatever – but why only Side-Quests?
“What’s my main mission? What am I actually supposed to be doing?”
“Main Quest: Unlimited Horizons.”
“What does that mean?”
Nothing. Nada. Zip.
I hurry outside, climb into my car, and skid out the best a ’98 Civic can.
I’m… on a mission. I’m on a mission. I’m literally on a freaking mission – but what?
What would that mean? Unlimited Horizons? That’s so ambiguous. So confusing. So unhelpful.
What would the quest be should it actually be a video game?
I’m this guy ripped from his time-space probable system and plopped down in another. Some geek-wad did it to me but he’s gone MIA. He’s a know-it-all reality shifter, though I’m not at all sure what that means. He did, though, have a hero of the topic. What was his name? BC?
BC. BC. BC.
Menu? Who is BC?
Nothing.
Amulet?
It glows.
Who is BC?
Zip.
Parked in the Publix parking lot down the way.
Google. Who is BC reality shifting?
Nothing.
BC Astral Projection.
Astralboard.com.
It’s a forum. It’s taking forever to load. Blackberries were the absolute shit back then, but, by the future’s standards, they’re actual shit.
A look up at silver tinged gray clouds. The moon, the stars, the… planets.
As I wait, I lean back, let out a long, deep sigh.
I’m so tired. So… very tired.
I do the thing. The buzzing thing and then the tingles. They become vibrations and a roaring wave all over.
I’m… Clement. I’m staring inside the car at my sleeping Ryan me.
I feel murderous. I feel like killing. There’s a sudden impulse to stab me I ignore.
I look up at the moon instead. I’m slowly rising from the ground. A force beneath my feet propels me. I’m shooting like a star in the sky.
I’m riding a wave of energy. I can aim it where I will.
The moon is there, and then it’s closer. Ever so closer, as I burst out into space.
I don’t have to breathe for hours. Alternatively, I can convert what’s in my lungs to breath.
There is no one like me. No one so powerful. I have… unlimited horizons.
I’m on the moon, staring back at the planet. It’s a little blue dot, a cloudy marble.
I realize I could destroy it. I could light my hands aglow and fire a destructive beam of planetary proportions.
But I don’t. I simply smile at the realization. A smirk. A laugh of knowing erupts into the vacuum of space.
I hover there, Indian style, and shut my eyes, and expand.
BC is Dr. Byron Calm, Professor of Theoretical Physics. I know that because I know almost everything.
