V1CE: Online

Time's Up

"My goodness," Amber said, leaning on a closed fist in her office. "To think, in thirty short days, you've surpassed all our expectations Sir All-In. I've never seen the Scythe run so efficiently, and no one has dared to stand up to me since your arrival. Simply exquisite."

Alan watched as she tapped her fingers on her desk, watching him with her dark hazel eyes. Her short blonde hair covered the left side of her face, which was scarred from an assassination attempt years prior, according to the narrative crafted by the game. Finding out about her backstory was intriguing, but she was just the final obstacle in his ascension. Any moment, the game would force him to log out, and the rest of the player base would flood in to claw their away to the top and threaten the Beta Testers' hard work.

They had unofficially become the bosses for the masses to topple. Outside the game, Alan read game journals and social media posts targeting anyone found out to be a Beta Tester. Violence was reported at times, which showed just how crazy the world had become for entertainment. Like his character, he laid low, hiding himself in his apartment. Out of the one thousand Testers, news outlets reported only three hundred remained. Many were deleted due to infighting, on the off chance they encountered each other in a fully fledged world. Others, however, lost their characters to their own stupidity.

Alan was methodical, educated, and devoid of a moral compass. They served him well in the virtual world, but now he needed to eliminate the final obstacle to his aspirations. He stood up and pulled out the jeweled dagger he "procured" from his first mission given by the Scythe members. Amber smiled; anticipating this outcome.

"The moment I saw you, I could see how strong you were. The common rabble rarely progresses above level twenty, yet here you come along, a level one hundred nightmare hiding in plain sight. At any moment you could've massacred this city, but you played it cool and collected. You spent these thirty days gaining the trust of my men, that's why they're conveniently waiting outside my doors and not bursting in here to stop you, though that would be futile," she explained, sipping her wine. "Their fear of you eclipses their fear of me."

"Where I come from, there was a certain line in a film that stuck with me. This town deserves a better class of criminal," Alan replied, quoting a line from The Dark Knight.

"I see. Smart words, but do you truly believe you're a better class of criminal? You haven't earned anything."

He ignored her jab, and Alan felt it was theatrical to claim his prize with his first reward. He could've summoned a swarm of rats, insects, or other creatures to consume her, but that seemed too grotesque for his tastes. In his mind, he would portray a sophisticated mastermind. She closed her eyes as he stepped behind her. With a quick slash he cut her throat, and she gurgled for a moment before slumping forward onto her desk. A chill ran through him at his deed, as he waited for her body and the gore to disappear. 

Nothing happened. 

He raised an eyebrow, wondering if she was still clinging to life. He pushed the dagger through her back, but there was no reaction.

"What?" he whispered as he pushed her out of the chair, causing her to crumble to the ground. "Must be a glitch as they are resetting the game."

He paced in the room, waiting for the inevitable forced logout. Fifteen minutes passed, and still Amber lay motionless. The puddle of her blood finally ceased growing, staining the wood under her desk.

Alan closed his eyes, attempting to log out manually, but again nothing happened.

"Help Desk," he said out loud, but got no response. Instead the doors to the office swung open, as the pair of guards that were stationed outside walked in.