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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Action/Adventure · #1666793
You, 18-year-old Elliot Barnes, are an ordinary guy-until one day you're not a guy at all!
This choice: Examine the videogames.  •  Go Back...
Chapter #3

Examining the Videogames.

    by: Scipio Africanus Author IconMail Icon
In the end, you find yourself exactly where most males your age would be: in front of the videogames. While the books and trinkets are interesting in a peculiar sort of way, ultimately you're here because you're bored. What better balm for a group of bored teenagers than a brand new videogame? And, you realize, since Kyle and Matthew aren't here, you're free to choose whichever you like without arguing about it! Thus decided, you focus your attention on the display. It's a small bin—it contains only three games, none of which seem to have been produced well-known development studios. Actually, upon closer examination you see that the games are all produced by the same obscure company, called 'Fantastic Realms Studios.'

"Unparalleled realism!" boasts the display. "Immerse yourself in expansive, detailed virtual worlds! Interact with intelligent, lifelike characters! Enjoy multi-player support for up to four players! Fantastic Realms Games—live the adventure!"

Intrigued, you reach for one of the titles. On the cover, a heavily armored knight faces off against a fearsome dragon beneath the game's title: "Legends of the Shattered Empire." "Play as one of over six hundred character classes! Explore over seven MILLION square miles of territory! Forge your own destiny as you and your friends make your way through the magical world of Telluris, gaining prestige and slaying your enemies!"

Legends of the Shattered Empire Cover  Open in new Window.

The second box, labeled "Strike Force IV: Space Marine Commandos" features a grim-looking soldier in futuristic armor firing some kind of assault rifle with one hand while helping a wounded comrade with the other. "Protect the galaxy from the alien menace as you and your friends assume the roles of SPACE MARINE COMMANDOS in the highly anticipated sequel to the award-winning Strike Force III. Wield an arsenal of futuristic weapons and gadgets in the ultimate battle to protect mankind from the threat of annihilation."

Strike Force IV: Space Marine Commandos  Open in new Window.

The third and final game is labeled "Kingdoms Rising" and features a mighty castle overlooking a pitched battle between two medieval armies. "Lead your nation to glory as you and your friends struggle for ultimate supremacy. Forge alliances, raise armies and fight for resources while securing your throne from potential usurpers. Realistic empire-management meets groundbreaking battle simulation in this real-time-strategy masterpiece. The stakes are high, your foes are skilled—do you have what it takes to forge an empire?"

Kingdoms Rising Cover  Open in new Window.

Unfortunately, what you don't see is a price. While off-label generic games like this were typically cheaper than the big blockbusters, you only have— …sixteen dollars and seventy three cents. Ouch, even less than you'd feared. Stepping carefully to avoid bumping into the closely stacked merchandise you make your way back up to the front where the elderly proprietor is hanging a freshly-painted sign over the counter. After he hammers the last nail into place, he turns to you and smiles, gesturing elaborately at the elegant lettering which reads: 'Because I am a wizard.'

"So," he beams, "what do you think?"

You search frantically for a tactful reply. What to say to a grown man who apparently thinks he's possessed of magical powers? Honestly, you've suspected since you first saw his bathrobe that this guy may be more than a little senile—or worse—but you hardly want to say that, especially if it's true.

"It's… nice," you say.

"I most certainly am not!" huffs the old man.

"You're not nice?" you ask nervously.

"What? No, I'm not senile."

You take a step back. "How did you know—"

With a flourish, the old man points to the still-wet sign.

"Um… right," you say.

"Oh, I know you don't yet believe—that doesn't matter. I only mentioned it because you asked. Well, that and perhaps a little excitement with the new sign—but mostly because you asked. I used to have a rather nice one, you know, with embossed gold lettering and all that. I was really quite fond of it. Quite an unfortunate affair what happened. There were these luchadores, and—ah, well, never mind. It's a rather long story and I'm sure you have places to go. Now, what can I help you with?"

Luchadores? As in masked Mexican wrestlers? Whatever—you decide to let it go. The man's probably crazy anyway. Better to make your purchase and get out.

"So, uh, how much are those games?" you ask, pointing to the bin.

"Ah!" he says. "The Fantastic Realms pieces! I just got those in today, from a brand new supplier. They're absolutely state-of-the art—perfectly realistic."

You raise an eyebrow.

"What, you mean like next-gen? These games?Strike Team Six: Star Patrol Commandos and the others?"

"It's called Strike Force IV: Space Marine Commandos, and I assure you," says the old man, "these games are unlike anything you've seen before. They're more like—oh, what's the term—they're like what you would call 'virtual reality.'"

"Virtual reality?" you ask, incredulous. "Are you serious?"

"Always," says the old man. "I'll tell you what—buy the game, and if you're not completely satisfied that I've represented it honestly, you can come right back here for a full refund. How does that sound?"

To be honest, that sounds pretty good.

"What's the catch?" you ask.

"No catch. If, after trying the game, you are in any way unsure as to whether it did indeed allow you to 'live the adventure,' I'll give you back every penny—why, I'll even let you keep the game!"

Well, that's certainly good enough for you. You can take the game home, spend a few hours playing it with Kyle and Matthew, and then if—when—it doesn't live up to the hype, you can come get your money back.

"All right," you say. "How much?"

"Sixteen seventy-three" says the old man with a smile.

"That's weird; that's exactly how much I have. How did you—"

Sighing, the old man points again to the hand-lettered sign.

"Uh… right."

Shaking your head, you hand over the money. The old man smiles warmly.

"Now, then," he asks, "Which one was it you wanted?"
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