Chapter 3: Alone in a dying game

Being alone is never fun. 

 

Oscar was a native citizen in a generic town. He knew it was generic from the players who interacted with him. He was an NPC. Or that’s what they called him. A being programmed to have no meaning in life further than making a dumb game more enjoyable for others. 

 

The role of a rank was immensely boring. Especially in this game. To carry a heavy shield constantly, never attack, and only absorb damage was neither fun nor easy. 

 

So a few years after the game was released, the number of players who were competent tanks was extremely low. Nobody wanted to play a boring role in a small game. Moreover, in a hyperrealistic game, nobody enjoyed the pain that came with being a tanker. 

 

People would offer small sums of in-game cash for tanks to join their party, but a group named OTEC already had great control over the tank supply. And they fixed prices at ridiculously high prices. 

 

Only professionals or content creators would hire tanks. The average player could spend over a thousand hours in the game without seeing a single tank during their play-through.

 

The game developers did not particularly enjoy the situation. They attended numerous times to fix their mistake, but it was far too late. 

 

Although the playing experience as a tank had increased, the gap between the top players and new players was like night and day. And without any positive public perception of tanks, no new player wanted to try. 

 

So that's where Oscar game in. Equipped with a shield and a rudimentary AI, he was forced to play as a tank. There were hundreds, if not thousands of others just like him. Forced to play a completely different role than they were used to. 

 

Oscar personally welcomed the change. He enjoyed a change of scene. 

 

Ten years of farming since he was born taught him that farming crops and tending to cattle wasn’t really something he enjoyed anyway. 

 

So he geared up and joined a party. 

 

***

 

Here Oscar learned about wages, specifically underpaid wages. He received nothing for his work. Solo-tanking while his party safely shot mobs from a distance was a difficult task. His supposed allies never really cared if they hit them. They simply wanted to have fun. 

 

So between staying alive, dodging arrows, and remaining in range of his allies, Oscar struggled. He had never returned from an adventure without serious injuries, and his allies only gave him the minimum medical treatment when absolute necessary. 

 

He wanted to ask why, but he couldn’t. They spoke something different from 0 and 1s. 

 

It didn’t matter though. Oscar enjoyed the challenge. 

 

***

 

But five months later, that wasn’t the case. 

 

Oscar’s body was almost always in critical condition. His left leg had a permanent limp. His arms were constantly aching. His fingers were usually broken and bent in strange angles.

 

Maybe farming was better than being beaten daily. But worse than the pain Oscar endured was the stagnation in his life. 

 

Wake up, tank, heal, tank, heal, repeat and repeat. 

 

Occasionally, someone would treat Oscar better than others. But they never lasted long. Each of them would try to get Oscar to say something or show any emotion. But he couldn’t. Literally. 

 

So they got bored of him and left. He resented that they treated him like a toy. One to throw away when broken. Oscar could endure the usual physical abuse, but emotional manipulation was a completely different matter. 

 

The sense of frustration, anger, and desire to quit would rush over him, each time. 

 

It didn’t matter though, Oscar could take it. The first month wasn’t that bad after all. 

 

*** 

 

Five years after his first day, that wasn’t the case.

 

Oscar had contributed to many raids. He was well renowned as the most skilled NPC Tanker, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from looking at him. His body was still constantly in horrible condition, only changing just before a raid, which would then spit Oscar out worse and worse.

 

His eyes were hollow. There wasn’t anything new since the first year. Four more years of the same thing and Oscar wanted just one break. Something to distract him, at least temporarily.

 

A girl, probably in her teens, kept pestering him though. Since around a year or two ago, she had stuck by Oscar’s side. It was almost comedic to Oscar. He had nothing for the girl but she continued to stick with him. Either out of sympathy or pity, the girl never left or talked to him.

 

It didn’t matter though, Oscar couldn’t tell her anything anyway. 

 

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***

 

Ten years after his first day, that wasn’t the case. 

 

Oscar’s sign language had greatly improved. Apparently, the girl’s name was a simple symbol and a letter, µT. She never said anything as the damage to her vocal cords left her without the ability to speak. 

 

She stuck to Oscar like glue, even through the raids, which were growing more and more infrequent. 

 

The two of them had a bit of a reputation, as a mute duo. Their stories were never glamorous, and everyone knew of their situation. Each time they encountered others, whispers of their names would inevitably follow. 

 

*** 

 

Fifteen years after his first day, that wasn’t the case. 

 

The player base had slowly died. The updates did nothing to hinder the process, and the game was no longer enjoyable or profitable. 

 

Updates like letting people watch the news or access the internet in-game didn’t help. Unoriginal ideas pulled from different games simply didn’t fit cohesively into this one. 

 

Oscar lived in a small hut that he had built by himself. Occasionally, µT would visit him. But that too was growing more and more infrequent. µT lived in Florida and was planning to attend higher education. She aimed for the University of Florida, the college her brother had attended. And with an increased workload and time spent studying, the time she spent gaming only decreased with time. 

 

After the last conversation, he learned more about the world outside. Oscar had long known that his world was only virtual, but it didn’t make it any less real to him. 

 

He slightly resented and envied µT, as she had so much in her life. 

 

***

 

Seventeen years after his first day, that wasn’t the case. 

 

Oscar’s mild resentment for µT only increased to hatred. Hate because she left him alone. But within himself, Oscar knew that he hated that µT could live without him. And he only hated himself more for being unable to live without her. But it was easier to hate her than himself.

 

A Hurricane hit a few of the game developers especially hard. Their lives were completely devastated, and they needed money desperately. 

 

So they looked to their failed game. Although they loved their project with a passion, it wasn’t practical to continue running it at a deficit. And they would have to come to the difficult decision of ending it one day.

 

They all felt horrible, as they should have expected a situation like this in Florida. Luckily, none of the developers were injured. The same couldn’t be said for others. 

 

Oscar remained in his old house. He was on his last breath. A lifetime’s worth of work and damage had taken a significant toll on his body. He could no longer move without pain or breathe without a struggle. 

 

His mind, however, was just as sharp as ever. He was smart enough to connect the dots to see what was coming. He waited and waited for µT to say her final goodbyes. 

 

He couldn’t say that he was fine. The thought of death scared him, but the thought of dying alone scared him even more. And so Oscar hoped. Hoped that µT would come to see him one last time. Although he hated her, she was the only person who would visit him.

 

***

 

One week after the hurricane, the developers decided that they would be shutting down the game for good. 

 

As a final gift to their players, 24 hours would remain for them to do everything and anything. 

 

Still lying on his bed, Oscar waited for µT. His faith in her had constantly wavered, but he was the only one who would ever remember or visit him. So he remained hopeful.

 

One hour came and went. Then another. And then another. The eternality that seemed like 24 hours quickly evaporated into its final minutes. 

 

And µT still remained unseen. Oscar laughed. His only friend he ever talked to had abandoned him. His lifelong friend that he considered to be closer and more important than anything in his world would not come to see him in his final moments. 

 

So he listened to his television while he waited for death to come. And as he waited, he cursed and pleaded for µT to come over and over and over. But he stopped. He didn’t want to disgrace himself at his death. So he went back to the television, something to distract himself.

 

“The aftermath of Hurricane Galveston has left an estimated 12,000 dead, 300 of which were students at the University of Florida. Sources say that-”

 

And at that moment, it clicked for Oscar. 

 

He turned off the TV. A sob was stifled temporarily. He could feel himself choking on his tears. And then he spent the last minute of his life sobbing uncontrollably and asking µT for forgiveness in his mind as the server began to close. 

 

Truly, misery loved company.

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