"User account, Fyle Martok, activated. Personnel file retrieved from Central Server HQ." The sound reverberated in the air like those of the city's Authority Control System (ACS). Powerful. Resonant.
She did it. Fyle tried to speak but no words came out.
Floating black words appeared in the emptiness surrounding him, listing the six options available in Conflict of Culture (CoC), the only fully immersive VRMMORPG.
“Welcome, Lt. Martok. Please choose a race.”
[Android]
[Dwarf]
[Elf]
[Gnome]
[Human]
[Orc]
Conflict of Culture was developed by the World Collective Government (WCG) as the perfect entertainment. Game-time was the most sought after commodity because it served as an alternative to the drudgery of everyday life faced by the survivors. Access was limited and strictly regulated.
Fyle reached out with his vaporous right hand and selected [Human]. The word floated to the upper left corner of his vision where his name was situated. The remaining words faded away in a smoky haze. A melodic flute bagan playing in the background.
"Choose a class."
[Intellect]
[Rogue]
[Warrior]
Along with a brain-based ID implant, everyone was placed on the Conflict of Culture waiting list at birth. While within city limits, the implant transmitted the carrier's biological and sensory data to Central Server HQ in real time. Each city had a fixed number of game slots. They became available on a rolling basis following the chronological order shown on the waiting list. The waiting list was the primary method for earning a slot, but it wasn't the only way.
Fyle's hand had fleshy substance as he selected [Warrior]. The word positioned itself below [Human] while the others dissipated. A subtle, heartbeat-like bass track overlaid the flute.
A lottery provided an alternative way to gain gaming slot rights. Participation in this once-a-month lottery was prohibitively expensive for the general population. Lottery winners' access took priority over those on the waiting list.
"Choose a subclass."
[Fighter]
[Tank]
A city's slots could be won or lost to another city. In-game events determined the number of transferable slots.
The arm on the hand selecting [Fighter] had doubled in size. The word indented itself below [Warrior] while [Tank] dissipated. The bass tempo sped up a few counts.
Slots became available as players died. Whether in-game or out-of-game. Citizens had 24 hours to use a slot from the time it was awarded.
"Choose a faction."
[Mystic]
[Techie]
Players were only allowed one in-game death per slot.
Muscle tone was obvious as Fyle selected [Mystic]. A gong sounded and the music stopped.
The previously chosen words faded out as they spun, before reappearing in front of him, pulsating and glowing.
[Fyle Martok]
[Human Mystic-Warrior-Fighter]
"Confirm your selection."
The player character (PC) information shifted to his left. Two words appeared on his right.
[Confirm]
[Cancel]
A chainmail glove covered the hand that selected [Confirm].
YOU ARE READING
Conflict of Culture
FantasyThis is an original story in a similar vein to SAO, LMS, Log Horizon, Accel World, Re: Monster, Ark, .hack, etc. - with elements of Chrome Shelled Regios. It is my first attempt at this genre. I'm pantsing this story, so scenes will appear as I comp...
