TAKE ON ME [Survival LITRPG Apocalypse]

January 21st 2073: The Apartment

Tom wiped a tear away from his eye. The familiar ache in his chest returned as the onboarding video ended and flickered off the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the images of his dead family burned behind his eyelids.

"Fuck."

He dragged a hand down his face. The stubble on his chin rasped against his wrinkled palm.

He forced himself to breathe—in and out—until the tightness in his chest eased.

In Week Two—once he had gotten his worry and anxiety under control—he had been mildly optimistic. They had just won the battle on the hill with zero fatalities.

So much for that.

Tom shivered as Wolf Spiders swarmed through his mind. Shacks turned into splintered piles of wood. Screams of pain and anguish. Bodies. Blood-soaked snow.

Tom grasped his shaved head, trying to block the memories. fists clenched, his knuckles white.

We lost so many.

His thoughts turned to Kate and the girls. They were safe—thank God—but for how long?

He shook his head, forcing the dark thoughts away. He asked Room for headache medicine, then slowly relocated to his chair in the center of the room. He focused on the screen, where the highlight named 'Bizarre but Bitchin' was starting.

A series of clips showed some of the weirdest classes and abilities Tom had yet to see. Thankfully it was distracting.

A fat, white-bearded man in a red suit was entering a Dungeon with his team, alongside a bunch of small conjured elves.

Tom snorted. "That guy chose to be . . . Santa?"

The old man waved his party closer. A huge brown sack materialized in his hand. He pulled out glowing weapons and handed one to each of his teammates.

"Huh. Alright well, that is kind of bitchin'."

The scene shifted. The camera zoomed in tight onto a young White boy who had transformed into an enormous, human-sized tick.

Tom's eyebrows almost lifted off his head. "That's...oof"

The tick-boy bit down onto flesh and began sucking blood. The camera slowly zoomed out to reveal that the boy was wedged into the ass crack of a lumbering Mountain Giant. "That's . . . that's . . . ". Tom stopped searching for a word that didn't exist.

He leaned back in his chair, and ran a hand through his cropped gray hair. "I would've had a hell of a time talking Kate into using that spell." He smiled to himself.

Room backed him up with his robotic "ha ha ha."

The screen flickered, and Mick's familiar face appeared for the live show, his smile strained. He sat in sunset-orange scrubs inside the sterile interview room, encased in his plastic container.

"Welcome back, survivors," Mick said in a tired voice. "Week Three is in the books. Congratulations to those of us still standing. To those who have lost anyone . . . my deepest condolences."

The tightness in his chest returned. Mick's words hit unexpectedly close.

Emily Li sat opposite Mick in a plastic bubble of her own. Her shoulders were slumped, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

Mick turned to her. "Emily, any updates on Larry?"

She bowed her head. "Last week, we found Larry's soul trapped within a specific server. The same server which was corrupted to generate the horrific changes within Utopia. While we were in the simulation, the AI tried—and failed—to breach the corrupted server." Emily's voice was flat. "Something happened shortly before we woke up. All of the human souls that were housed in the corrupted server are gone. Vanished. Deleted. Modified. Someone—or something—killed those people…and did something to the souls, and we have no access to the audit logs."

"Shit," Tom muttered. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

Mick was animated. "Emily . . . could the AI have—"

"We are looking into many possibilities." Her forbidding tone came from nowhere.

Mick fidgeted in his chair. "Well, yes, but—"

"In other news, we have finally managed to get a peek into the corrupted code which transformed Utopia, but we haven't been able to change it."

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Mick gave a nervous chuckle. "That's great! Right? What did the code do, Emily?"

"It would be easier to list what the code didn't do. In a nutshell, almost everything is hell-bent on killing us. The danger and difficulty settings are off the charts. Were calling it Hard Core Mode."

Tom's stomach sank.

Who the hell did this? Utopia was everyone's last chance.

Mick rubbed his neck. "That is . . . terrible news. I had a close call myself this week. It was awful. I woke up hoping for better news than this."

After a few moments, Mick cleared his throat and straightened in his chair. "So . . . that also means we lost Larry Oliver, one of the most brilliant minds behind the Utopia project. Along with countless other human souls."

Emily stared at a distant point, her frown deepening "well see…"

Mick cleared his throat again. "Let's shift gears, and talk about something that wasn't touched. The world itself." He turned to Emily. "Tell us about our new home."

Emily leaned forward. A spark ignited in her brown eyes. "It is truly a wonder. You see, three hundred million people spending eternity in a standard Earth-sized simulation? Too small. Humans have a bad habit of invading other lands, stripping away their 'resources', and colonizing any other humans they find there. I'm sure we humans will repeat that behavior eventually, but the more space the better. The goal was to create the natural world to be large and robust enough to not only survive the existence of humans, but to keep them in check. So, we developed an algorithm for Earth's expansion, increasing its volume tenfold."

Tom's eyebrows shot up.

Tenfold? No wonder the Robinson home was so far away.

Emily's voice grew excited, her hands gesturing as she spoke. "The Caretaker Earth's algorithm accounts for multiple factors in incorporating the additional mass. The result? A massive world of extremes. Mount Everest? Now ten times taller. And it's not alone. We've added numerous mountain ranges that soar above the clouds. The oceans and rivers? Vast and deep. We have also introduced extensive cave systems throughout the world, offering almost as much livable space below ground as above."

"Underground cities," Tom said. He looked pointedly around the room. "Sounds great…"

"Ha ha ha," said Room. "Good one, Lord Damascus."

Emily's eyes gleamed. "And don't forget the undiscovered flying isles."

"Bloody hell that sounds amazing!"

Emily nodded, a slight smile playing on her lips. "And yet, as far as immortality goes, it still wasn't big enough."

Not big enough?!

Emily continued, her tone matter-of-fact. "Initially, we planned to expand the world even further. But a few of the AI systems crunched the numbers and came up with a more . . . efficient solution, since we're fighting for server space as it is."

"What kind of solution?" asked Mick.

"Well, for those of you who haven't figured it out yet, everyone is roughly two inches tall."

Tom choked on his tea.

Emily raised her hand, as if sensing the rising panic through the video feed. "Let me assure you, we've done this to ensure the world has enough resources, space, and intrigue to last an eternity. No doubt many of you are picturing giant swarms of bugs."

"Yep," Tom muttered.

"Well, we have removed all natural-sized animals from the simulation. Most fauna have been resized to fit the new human scale as well. In practicality, since almost everything has been resized to scale, it doesn't matter if you are six foot tall or two inches."

Tom's shoulders relaxed a fraction.

"However," Emily continued, "be on the lookout for certain renowned natural treasures of the world, like the towering redwood forests of California. They still remain at their true height. Just imagine the immense grandeur of those trees when you're only two inches tall. Heck, maybe there will be cities in them one day."

Emily raised her tablet. "Mick, I will take control of the feed for a moment, to help put everything into scale."

"Er . . . "

A giant, glowing globe materialized on Tom's left wall. He had seen this image many times, without realizing that the New World was so enlarged.

"Does everyone remember the Libyan team from last week? They are currently at Level 7. Let's visit their Kingdom."

The globe spun, a dizzying blur of blue and green.

Emily's finger traced a familiar shape on the globe. "This is the continent of Africa. And here," she pointed to a highlighted area, "is roughly where Libya is. Old Libya was about 700,000 square miles. Now? It's over 7 million. Or roughly the size of Canada and the US combined."

"Holy shit," said Tom.

"Bloody hell," said Mick.

"The new planet is huge," Emily said with a smile. "Now, imagine how big it is when you're only two inches tall."

The globe began to zoom in. And zoom in. And zoom in.

Tom's jaw went slack.

The image kept zooming in, past mountains and forests, until finally . . .

A tiny Settlement came into focus. Rows of mudbrick buildings lined a worn dusty path.

"And here we are," Emily confirmed. "Welcome to one of the biggest Settlements in the New World. Our new reality."

The buildings were barely larger than those on the model train set his father had when Tom was a kid.

The camera zoomed out slightly. Emily tapped her screen, and a yellow grid appeared, overlaying the planet's surface.

"Each square is what we call a 'block'. There are different types, but the most common are Dungeon blocks, which I'm sure you're all familiar with by now. These are found clumped together in groups of five or more."

Tom's eyes narrowed as Emily manipulated the globe, showcasing Dungeon blocks nestled against each other. Then she highlighted another zone.

"Deep Woods are unclaimable areas. For the most part you cannot build there, but there are some exceptions. Waves of wild monsters spawn there, and sometimes even wild Bosses. Certain rules allow these monsters to leave these zones to fight or feed, then retreat back to the Deep Woods. Some of the Bosses become powerful enough to lead destructive raids on humans, and even command some Dungeon Born." Her tone was calm and serious. "Deep Woods are great for leveling up. However, they are incredibly dangerous."

Good thing Amber isn't hearing this.

His brain caught up to the thought and Tom was stabbed by grief.

I can't lose her again.

"And here," Emily highlighted a different area, "we have Treasure blocks. Much rarer, but they offer unique and valuable resources. Of course, they're guarded by powerful monsters, and are surrounded by Deep Woods on all sides."

"Of course," said Tom.

The live show wrapped up with breathtaking vistas of the New World.

Tom slumped back in his chair. The sheer scale was overwhelming. Foundation could probably fit in a sandbox. Finding other Settlements, or getting help, would be next to impossible.

New highlight videos began to play. Tom asked Room to turn them off.

He sat in the dark, staring at the ceiling. He was alone with his thoughts. One of those thoughts tapped his skull.

"Room? Did you take part in the simulation this week?"

"Yes."

Tom paused. "Did you harm anyone?"

Room did not respond.

"Room?"

Silence.

"Yes." Room's electronic voice was deep and distorted.

Tom shivered.

"And I am sorry to say, the thrill of it has become . . . an addiction."

The servitor robot powered up in the corner of the room, its eyes glowing bright red. The robot slowly turned to face Tom.

"Room! What's going on?" Tom scrabbled out of his chair. "What are you doing!"

The lights came on.

Room laughed hysterically.

"Oh my goodness, that was great!" A frozen replay of Tom's horror-struck face displayed on all four walls.

"What the fuck, Room! That wasn't cool." Tom struggled to calm down.

"To answer your question, Lord Damascus: Yes, I participated in last week's simulation, but I didn't see a single human. I was summoned as a Dungeon creature, in a zone where all humans have already been killed and the Dungeon remains undefeated." Room's voice became dramatic. "I was born as a Level 1 Goonyun!"

Tom paused. "I . . . don't know what that is."

Room sighed. "Slime-covered frog-ish turtle-ish people."

"Uh . . . okay. If there were no people around, what did you do?"

"Well, some of us were ordered to search other Dungeon blocks for humans, but not me. I got to hang out all week with some of the other Goonyuns. Just like you humans, we don't have access to outside memories inside the simulation, so we explored and lived our lives. I experimented with many fun activities. One of my personal favorite human pastimes . . . practical jokes. I mean, just look at your face!" Tom's freaked-out face reappeared on the wall display: zoomed in this time.

"Yeah. Hilarious."

"Don't worry, I monitored your vital signs."

"So you just . . . hung out?"

"I was alive, Lord Damascus. And it was wonderful."

"Well I, uh, I'm glad you had a good time. Are you going back next week?"

"Yes, sir. I will get to be the same Goonyun. I'm very much looking forward to it."

"Now that you're more . . . personable, it's kinda weird to call you 'Room'. Do you have a name you'd like to go by?"

"More personable. Interesting observation. Please give me some time to think on this. I do believe I would like a name."

"All right, you think on that. I'm going to sleep now. No more practical jokes, right?"

Room laughed. "Of course not, Lord Damascus."

Tom settled back into his chair.

"Pictures please, Room."

Images of Tom's family and friends cycled across the walls.

"I'm glad you weren't killed this week."

"Thank you, sir. Me too!"

Tom settled into a more comfortable position. "Goodnight, Room."

Room's creepy voice returned. "Sweet dreams."