Brilliant Man/Vir Clarissimus (Latin)

Chapter 15 The Clever, Daring, Brave, and Adventurous!

Before blacking out, Ozwald had a peek at the metamorphose process: the pixels of the intersection panorama each changed color, one by one forming a scenic, countryside Venus view.

After his snap, a violent, concrete road was unleashed. It etched itself into the viridescent, Venus floor, becoming a long enough lane suitable for two racing drivers. Not too distantly, Ozwald watched the continuing road seamlessly bisect and loop around a gravel pot of steaming magma.

The husky, simulated air set off a torch in his throat, a temporary burning like that given by drinking Corse too quickly. Ozwald jumped when seeing, from behind, a multi-layered, semi-circled alcove of seats had formed. He peeked at Zed, seeing in his eyes the peaceful resolve Ozwald knew meant he enjoyed creation.

Spilled over the moody landscape were geysers, volcanic structures, and black-rock castles. Skeletons were assigned to these hellish palaces, readied with bows upon the balustrades.

Where were Alicia and Hirashita? Ozwald thought, double-checking the stands but only finding the same colorful blend of aliens, humanoids, and humans. From afar, the rows of subjects were probably like small black pinpricks and only their sounds of privilege and Corse were heard from such distance.

Two things suddenly came to Ozwald. First, if this was a digital game which displayed you as a virtual avatar, then was the crowd real or just NPCs? Secondly, while hitting his chest to clear his throat, his hands were rubbery, and with one look at them, he found gloves.

Next he checked his clothing.

It was the same for it too.

Ozwald's outfit was completely black except for the occasional streak of red. Meanwhile, his lower and upper halves burst in woolly material salted with an abundance of brand logos.

And even his view, which he'd somehow left unattended until this point, was fogged up by the thick visor of his new helmet.

"How, Zed?" he cried, racking his brain for a suiting answer to his confusion. How had his clothes just.. changed?

Zed wore similar, inflated garments. His chest was scribbled with the same infinity of brands and his helmet – just the same – came with a likened, tinted visor and was decorated in multiple flashy-white names.

He and Ozwald laughed.

"Forgive me, Ozwald; I made digital scans of this turd nearly twenty years ago expecting to have high-res, digitized replicas once they were loaded into the games. It's manageable, just crappy," Zed explained. At that moment, a familiar humanoid announcer approached their fronts

Miystro was unchanged in the last six hours. The only significant thing were his springy ears and soupy, fattened bodice, which – in its viridescent color - camouflaged him with the Venus world.

"Cheers, Miystro," Zed greeted, watching the particles of his loading, green friend. Pockets of emerald fat rolled off his viscous frame.

"And good day to you also," the fully-rendered Miystro responded, his voice sounding staticky as he acknowledged Zed with a good-natured bow. "It's all over the feeds. You and the kid are up at it in for the second round of the games, hmm? Surely you could grant me the privilege of explaining the rules again this year, eh?" Miystro clapped his hands, forming a webbed, jelly-like oddity with his conjoined fingers.

"The announcement of the games are as key as the games themselves!" Zed said, clapping his back.

"Delightful! Well, not to be of any nuisance, but is it in your roster of abilities as host to.. em.. perform that weaving trick" - he paused, opening up his hands and making a weird, spinning gesture – "and formulate um.. those er.. eh microphone! Yeah, that's what! Make me a microphone; this speech box of mine won't be working alone itself!"