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Where Players Fear to Tread:

I lay atop a flat transparent plane. When I looked down, there were floating islands of reality all around me. The pockets consisted of every location imaginable, and a few made my head hurt. My first thought was that I had somehow had my collision field switched off and had slipped behind the walls of the game. The more I saw, the more it made sense. I accidentally did this in older games, but how could this occur in something as sophisticated as a full dive title? Finally, I got to my feet, and game gravity appeared to be working so far. I stomped my foot once, and the entire plane let out a dull echoless tone. The shattered universe was all around me, and it reminded me of an exploded M.C. Escher painting given life and movement. Perspective was not only deceptive but random and malleable. The pockets varied in every way conceivable, size, transparency, and even direction of motion.

"Well, fuck," I cursed, and my voice came out as a synthesized mess. "This is like Alice in Wonderland tweaking on LSD or windowpane. Undiluted and pure for your recreational enjoyment."

The unfamiliar content entranced me. Most of this stuff was not in either game. The genres were vast and varied. I wondered if Kat was developing other game genres like horror. Much of what I saw fit that subject matter. An arctic landscape drifted by, and a shapeless mass erupted from beneath the ice. The monster was an amalgamation of a dozen different creatures ranging from arachnid to octopoid and a hellish mix of canine, human, and God knows what all.

"The Thing," I roared in delight. "From the John Carpenter movie, it was their version of the creature given life. I wonder if talks fell through or, stupid, this is the dev teams work area!"

Somehow, I had glitched into the midst of all those talented people that created content for Numenor. This fractured universe had to be the dev's secret testing ground. I tried to access my HUD but got an error message instead.

Player ID not recognized. Host error 5481, please exit the area immediately--safety protocols not in place.

"Aw shit," I cursed, but this time I had Whisper's voice coming out of my mouth. "Hey! Anybody! I cannot access my HUD! Traci? Surfer?! Left?" The old fear awoke, and this time the danger might be real. I repeatedly tried to call up any interface, but nothing was working. "Fuck You!" I screamed, and this time Benedict Cumberbatch's voice howled into the void. The plane I was standing on was on a collision course with a sizeable foggy patch of data. I had little time to fall flat and brace myself the best I could. The jarring sensation hurled me bodily into the ether, and I landed in the mists. I had settled on my back, staring up into the cloudy atmosphere of whatever nameless reality I was now on. The fog was cold and obscured everything. When I sat up, my spine protested. "I can feel pain and temperature. Shit."

I reluctantly rose and slowly, with arms and hands outstretched, blindly groped my way through the dense atmosphere. My hair was soaked and frozen by the cloud. The same was true of my clothing, and I could see that I was wearing tennis shoes, jeans, and a dark t-shirt. I barely stopped in time from faceplanting into a tree. I ran my fingers over the ragged bark and found four diagonal lines cut into the tree's exterior. The gouges were deep and, worst of all, fresh. I remained silent. The height of the claw marks was about head level, which made me imagine either a bear or a big ass werewolf. What else could it be? The tree was not that tall, and it stood slanted at a twenty-degree angle and covered with moss and mushrooms at its base. I did my best to gauge my steps and move as quietly as I was able. The sound of bubbling water was faint at first but grew louder as I walked closer to the source. Finally, the mystery of the fog resolved itself when I tripped and fell headfirst into a pool fed by hot springs. The sudden heat overwhelmed me as I broke the surface of the water, sputtering and gasping for breath. The wisps of steam mingled with the cold air and behold a cloud forest. I swam to the side of the pool and was about to lever myself out when I looked at the ground between my hands. I was worried about werewolves, but the thing that made that print was neither a wolf nor the size of the wolfman of fame and legend. This fucker was twice that size, at least. The depth of the track and its sheer proportions made me rethink leaving the pool. I had no weapons, no magic, nothing but my wit and tenacity to live.

Safety protocols are not in place. The mechanical voice echoed in my head. Could I die in the game? The thought that followed made me weak in the knees. I wasn't in the goddamn game. I was in the realm of the devs. Here they tested out their ideas, and so there was no need for safety protocols. I am so fucked. Alone and facing what had to be either a weretiger or werepanther, I must find shelter and craft weapons. Like hell was I going to die like this. I swam to the opposite side of the pool and pushed my body out of the water. The cold air stung like a bitch. I needed to make a fire, or I would freeze to death before the thing found me. I had to hope there were caves around here. Silver worked on werecreatures, shelter, and silver, and tools had to be here somewhere. I backtracked the prints left by the werecat. I split my attention between tracking and keeping an eye on my surroundings. It smacked of the fight with the Yautja in the forest of Latveria. The same fear and paranoia I felt then were rekindled.

The atmosphere began to thin, and I could make out the step pyramid. The full moon bathed the ancient stones giving them a silvery glow. I fought the urge to break cover and race to the building. Instead, I kited the pyramid keeping it in sight while I did my best to remain hidden. There was movement on the steps leading to the top. My first glimpse of them was terrifying. I recalled what they called it from my time DM'ing, a group in college. I froze when I heard the collective cry of the shadow of werejaguars. Their patterned coats shone under the moonlight. Their varied vocalizations grew louder as they struggled for supremacy. I counted them as they made their attempt to mount the final few stairs. Eight of them were roaring, clawing, and biting their fellow lycanthropes. A deafening roar scattered the group as a hulking figure topped the steps. His coat soaked in the silvery light as he rose to his full height and declared his leadership. The black jaguar had arrived, and the shadow was under his sway.

The tan-coated werejaguars made their obeisance to their leader. One by one, they exposed their throats to the black's jaws. One by one, he gently applied his fangs before releasing them. The ebony king displayed his disfavor. The second from last perished under the formidable power of the chief's bite. He twitched a few times before he was released, and his human body fell to the stones. The others fed upon their former member. Nature is efficient as it is remorseless. My teeth threatened to chatter, and so I moved on, seeking shelter and warmth.

Crumbling structures and the remnants of what might have once been a formidable wall surrounded the pyramid's base. I slunk to the edge of the fallen stonework. I had dated a geology student long ago, and she had shared a bit of her love of rocks with me. Diorite is one of the densest and strongest igneous rocks you can find. It looked like it had been struck and shattered by way of the debris pattern. What the fuck could do that to such a hard stone? I examined the debris field, and it was clear. The force came from within; no invader did this. They were betrayed by their own. There were scorch marks on every fragment. I looked towards the top of the pyramid, and the feast continued. The ebony king lounged atop the apex as he watched the others intently. I forced myself to tear my gaze away from the monsters and seek concealment, or else I would freeze to death.

I hugged and rubbed my torso to maintain a semblance of warmth. If my core temperature dropped too much, I was dead. Since the others weren't here, they must have made it out of the crossover event. That thought kept me going as I followed a depression in the ground. The gash seemed to serve two purposes. One was to direct water away from the base of the wall, and the second was to expose enemies to the withering fire from archers above. The pyramid complex sat atop a hill. If I was lucky, that hill was a natural formation, and it might just have a cave system beneath it. The lowest point of the ditch reached a collapsed portion of the earth. It wasn't exactly a cave, but it was dry and out of this damned fog. I climbed down and discovered shattered beams of wood that once supported the roof. I immediately piled the wood into the driest portion of the chamber.

"If I can find some kindling and the right rocks, I can build a fire," I whispered as I continued to search. The filtered moonlight formed a shaft, and I used that to investigate my surroundings. Once they realized I was not waking up, they would have to trace my movements and track me down. My only hope was to stay alive long enough for Kat to rescue me. I dredged up every memory I had concerning survival skills. Some were game-based, while the majority came from real-life experiences. I had flashes of a box canyon with a lake, a town hugging the shoreline, a school or monastery on a hill, and a castle overlooking it all. Other teens with me learned how to find freshwater, gather kindling and wood for a fire, and other essential skills to endure. It felt like boy scouts or a summer camp, but I knew it wasn't. The memory surrounded the monastery and the university within.

It was difficult navigating and searching with such poor lighting. As I dug through the debris and scattered relics of an ancient civilization, I tried assessing what had happened to bring me here. "The mirror must have shattered while I was passing through it," I muttered. Unfortunately, the rocks in this area were not conducive to generating the spark I needed. At the same time, I had luck with kindling and larger pieces of wood. "I need a piece of steel." If this was a horror survival game, the items I required must be in this area. So I renewed my search, and sure enough, I found a small flat ingot of metal. Unfortunately, once I started the fire, concealing it would be impossible, so I had to hope the fog worked in my favor in this instance. I picked up the metal, and glowing white letters appeared in my field of vision, a small piece of steel. I had activated a HUD system. I gathered the chunk of dark stone into my other hand. Sure enough, the words returned and announced I possessed a lump of obsidian. This type of interface was unfamiliar but very welcome.

Nevertheless, it gave me hope that this fragment of the game recognized my existence. "It is a beginning. I can lean into that." Sparks flew from volcanic glass and steel. The kindling began to smoke. I carefully blew on the dried plant material, and with a dramatic blaze, a man had made fire. Soon I was naked, my clothing hanging near the fire drying, and my stomach rumbling. Food could wait until I quit shivering. Once my stuff was dry, I could thoroughly search this area and see what it held. I held my hands near the flames, and once more, memories of the canyon returned. The world was transitioning between summer and fall. Leaves of gold and red were everywhere as I meandered over the hundred or so acres owned by the school. I could almost smell the floral delight as my eyes closed and the memory took over. The hill was steep on both sides. Several oaks and pine trees dotted the landscape and offered shade from the noonday sun.

"What is that?" I recalled saying when a flash of sapphire caught my attention. Sunlight painted the recently mowed grass and among the fallen blades a piece of glass perhaps. I topped the hill seeking the source of the sparkle. I squatted and ran my hands carefully through the grass in case it turned out to be a hunk of broken glass. Directly in front of me, a precipitous drop-off ran to the valley floor, just beyond a wall of bushes at the base of the next hill. The unexpected wave of dizziness sent me careening downward. I tucked into a ball to avoid injury and cried out when my body hit and passed through the foliage. My body came to rest in a dark stone tunnel.

I reached my feet in a series of tentative positions. First, I sat up and leaned against the decorated wall of the passage. Egyptian-style murals covered the walls and ceiling. My violent path through the bushes allowed enough light to enter and illuminate most of the tunnel. I called out the gods I recognized from history classes and gaming sessions. "Osiris, Thoth, Ptah, Set, funny no goddesses here to compliment their husbands or play their part in this resurrection play," I muttered. The story was of the murder and rebirth of Osiris. Where was Isis? She had a crucial role in it. Next, I rose to my feet, leaning heavily against the left wall. Dizziness plagued me until I reached the end of the passage and the flat-topped pedestal. The table reminded me of a chessboard with its squares and hand-carved pieces. Unlike chess, there were only four styles to place upon the game surface.

"Hmm, you look like a pyramid," I said as I held up each figure. "And you are a cloud, a brazier, and last but not least, an ocean wave. Well, would you look at this?" I muttered as I noticed the three drawings at the tail end of the tunnel. Their style and subject matter were different than the rest of the passageway, just then the memory fast-forwarded to me, placing the proper pieces on the game board to open hidden doors. The first revealed another long hall lit by shimmering crystals. The walls and ceiling were covered entirely with the elemental glyphs in groupings of four. They must have numbered in the tens of thousands.

Where the passage ended was a statue of one of the Anunnaki, a Sumerian legend. What the hell was this statue doing here? "You are wearing a bracelet, or is it a watch?" I remembered Nick's watch I had recovered from the military base. Was there a connection? Once more, time leaped forward, and I was beyond another door. The artisans had meticulously carved niches into the walls of the natural cavern. Within these slots, dozens of sarcophagi held the remains of influential men. The coffins triggered the critical memory, and I found a massive flawless sapphire. Mud caked its surface, so I popped it into my mouth so that my saliva could clean it off when a sudden noise startled me, and I reflexively inhaled. The gem lodged in my throat, and I could not breathe. A large piece of wood settled loudly and broke the spell of the memory.

"Ugh," I cursed and rubbed my throat as Cumberbatch's voice continued to issue from my lips. "That was unpleasant. How about something entertaining instead." I wondered if I could access the combat skills I had mastered in the Star Wars universe, and luckily they were still there. "Form one, Shii-Cho, the basics, and a good beginning," I self-narrated as I mentally went through the style slowly. I focused on footwork, shifting my balance, and the flow of movement. "Form two, Makashi, Count Dooku was a master of this form." I went from one to the next to pass the time and retain my sanity. The agony I felt when Pinhead gestured at me, and the weakness afterward worried me. She had called me a donor. I broke down what had happened before we fled the scene. Pinhead had torn Andeddu's soul from Xim's body and, using my blood, merged it with a rotting corpse. The stone holding Xim's spirit had gone dark and seemingly resurrected my one-time lover. The Lady of the Cenobites seemed genuinely upset when I tossed the former tyrant through the portal. Had they planned on torturing her as well?

Memories of Xim emerged, and not since my time with Mystique had I so leisurely explored the broader aspects of my sexuality. I knew it was the shapeshifting angle, but I enjoyed letting someone else be in charge deep down. I suddenly had a desire to figure out my current appearance. Up until now, I had been scared shitless and too busy even to bother. I looked down and liked the dusky, almost olive skin. I reached up and pulled strands of my hair. "Ginger, well, at least the roof meets the rug." I plucked up the piece of steel and tried to catch my reflection. It was so small all I could do was see that I had blue-green eyes. The outer rim was a dark blue and blended to a bright green at the center. It was enough for now. My clothes were dry, and I got dressed and readied to explore my immediate surroundings.

Since I couldn't construct a torch, I took a portion of wood, a stone bowl, and embers from the fire to act as a light source. It was less than perfect, but it beat nothing at all. A section of rubble bore the markings that reminded me of either Mayan or Incan. Unfortunately, I wasn't familiar with either to determine the culture that carved those markings. It could be another society altogether, to be honest. What was clear was the silhouette of Tezcatlipoca, the jaguar god. I remember one of my DM's using him in a one-shot module back in the day. He was the deity of, damn, I couldn't remember. The full moon held in the diety's hands hinted at a nocturnal aspect.

"Nightwind! I remember now. He was the God of the starry night and the night winds," I exclaimed before clamping a hand over my mouth. Fool, that was just plain stupid. I listened as hard as I could. I froze in place, and the thundering of my heartbeat drowned out everything else. I could not hear shit. I forced my head to turn towards the opening. I imagined a hulking figure of a werejaguar creeping in and tearing me to pieces. I glanced at the dying fire and prayed it was dim enough to miss the attention of the lycanthropes. I don't know how long I stood there, but eventually, I relaxed and focused on the carvings. Did my old mentor and occasional player Nightwind have a hand in creating this scenario? Was Tezcatlipoca a signature image? I experienced his loss all over again. He had been sick for a long time, and eventually, he lived inside the game to escape from the pain ravaging his physical body. He had been a good friend and hellaciously hardcore trainer. I smiled when I remembered him and the female student who taught me so much. His consciousness might still exist inside the game as an AI or digital copy. If true, I would seek him out once I freed myself of this nightmare.

The moon held by the jaguar god seemed different than the rest of the panel. I moved as close as I could and held up the stone bowl to the carving. The perimeter of the moon was more pronounced than the rest. I reached out to see if it would rotate. It didn't, no it was a switch. The slightest pressure activated the trapdoor beneath me--my makeshift torch flew behind me as I plummeted down the tube-shaped cylinder. My back hit the side as it changed direction. I had picked up enough momentum to be fired into the web of a skeletonized spider. The strands acted as a net instead of a sticky trap.

Glowing mushrooms illuminated the area with a lurid green glow. I made the mistake of brushing against one as I levered my body from the web to a tunnel connected to the one that brought me down here. A cloud of iridescent spore surrounded me, and I inhaled some of them. The narcotic effect was instant and hit my brain like a hydro shock round. My laughter echoed down the tunnel as I wormed my way forward.

"I am so fucked," I giggled. "I can't even crawl properly."

I kept losing my balance as I pushed through dried and desiccated webbing and corpses. If I had not been high as a kite, I would have been screaming in terror. The tunnel joined with a sphere-shaped nexus. Other tunnels connected here, and there was even a vertical shaft leading to the surface. Dried mud, skeletal remains, and a single figure dressed in rusted conquistador armor littered the nexus. My eyes refused to focus, so I closed them, counted to ten, and opened them again. The moonlight struck the trash and debris, and something happened to the colors. My world went monochromatic for a moment, and then anything red stood out and practically glowed. The red faded, and blue became the dominant shade. My vision cycled through every color, and then a strange layering effect took hold, and my surroundings became a liquid crystal wonderland.