The First Great Game (A Litrpg/Harem Series)

'Tournament day' started like every other. The sun rose, the birds (and wolves) made their noise. Mason wandered the Nexus and the town below, looking for any changes and chatting with a few players about their practice duels in the training hall. He was almost starting to think nothing was going to happen.

Then the entire sky blotted out around noon.

 

[Congratulations, Players, on your ongoing survival] boomed the voice of their synthetic overlord. [Today marks the official end of phase two of the Great Game.]

 

Mason tried and failed to move. He'd been assuming when 'it' happened, whatever exactly 'it' was, he'd be gathering up everyone in the settlement and figuring things out. Instead it felt like the system was isolating everyone. Handling the details by itself.

A glowing blue...light in roughly humanoid form appeared before Mason, a bit like the guide that had showed him around the Nexus.

"Greetings, Baron and Founder Mason Nimitz of House Mason. Please allow me to formally invite you to the First Annual Friendly Player Competitive Tournament, to be held for roughly one week in the Neutral Zone. You and your House will be quite safe, as there is to be no violence outside of tournament boundaries. All other areas of the game world will be paused until the completion of the tournament. So you won't lose a single day."

Mason took a deep breath.

"Don't say 'invited' when you mean 'compulsory'. I can handle the game, just spare me the bullshit."

The blue-man ambassador stared with lifeless eyes, and Mason sighed.

"Thanks. I gratefully accept."

"Wonderful!" The thing smiled without its eyes. "Please select your attendance package from the following list of options."

Several menus popped in Mason's face. One was based on his patron title, another the Nexus, and the other his House. It looked like all three gave him more civilians he'd be allowed to bring, and also let him govern what behaviors they'd be allowed in the 'Neutral Zone'. He could set blanket rules, or literally break it down to individuals.

To a certain degree, he even had control over the Players in his House (which was all of them). He couldn't stop them from attending the tournament, but he could put them in a kind of house arrest while they waited for their bouts, and could literally ban them from so much as speaking to anyone else in the zone. He grinned to himself as he thought of silencing Seamus for a week.

But he clicked the 'all general rules' button at the bottom, permitting his players whatever freedom the overall system allowed. The civilians were a little trickier.

Fortunately, his Founder title apparently gave him such a civilian 'permission' boost he could bring the entirety of Nassau. No doubt it might cause a few problems, but he really didn't see why he should leave anyone behind who wanted to go. He again selected them all and gave them blanket permissions.

With that done he noticed a red text box next to his greyed out elves. He saw the many names of his elven 'subjects', most of whom he still didn't know, but it was showing Naya separated out from the rest. He clicked the red warning, which expanded into longer text.

 

Note: in-game humanoids are not generally permitted in the Neutral Zone. You may, however, select immediate family members, such as wives or offspring. Doing so will compromise and break system immersion. Results may be chaotic. Please choose carefully.

 

Mason stared at the text as his brain reeled. What exactly was it saying? He read it again and again, coming to an inescapable, screwed up conclusion. It had to be telling him that he could take Naya, if he wished, but if he did it would be like ripping an actor from a movie.

It seemed to be a naked acknowledgment from the system that Naya and people like her were either...fictional characters, or else real but brainwashed by roboGod. And that to take them into the 'neutral zone' would break that immersion in some permanent way.

He didn't even know what to say. It had never given them any rules about explaining

what had happened to humans or 'in-game humanoids'. But Mason supposed that no one would believe them if they did. Where as if they were taken to some place where the mask came off, and roboGod revealed his game in all its brutal glory, it would truly be like the Truman show just...ending.

Mason swiped away the text, and stared. A piece of him was telling him to do it. Telling him that if it were him, he'd want to know. That if someone knew his world was a lie and didn't tell him, he'd hate them when he learned the truth. But as had happened so many times now in this ridiculous game, Mason resented being asked to decide important things for others.

How could he know what Naya would want? It occurred to him then that he didn't know her very well. Hell, how long had it even been? Two weeks from perfect strangers to 'married'?

She wasn't some pampered princess anymore. She'd struggled and lost. She'd come here and finally found hope, lust, and maybe more. And now Mason was going to turn around and say 'Surprise! Your whole life is a lie! All your struggle and pain and hope is meaningless!'

She sure as hell wouldn't thank him. She might go catatonic. She might kill herself. And even if she was strong enough and ultimately came to thank him for telling her, she still might never want to see him again. People didn't just get over that kind of mental trauma unscathed.

One day, Mason thought. But not like this.

He swiped it away, deciding to leave all the elves behind. If they were 'frozen' along with everything else, in theory they'd never even notice anything had happened. Mason and the others would disappear, and pop back into existence without affecting anything.

Then maybe he’d would start thinking about how to tell Naya. If he told Naya. He had plenty of time to get to know her better, to earn her trust and love and figure out how to explain. If it was even possible. But to show her the face of her synthetic god so...starkly. So suddenly.

No, Mason decided. It was cruel. Impossible.

"Thank you for your selections," said the system's messenger. "As a powerful player, a major patron, and a Founder, you will be a special guest of honor at the tournament. Please enjoy all of the many amenities provided, either alone or with limited guests. Do you have any questions before the entrance duel?"

Mason nodded along, hardly listening. But he repeated the last words in his mind and narrowed his eyes as he turned to the robot.

"Entrance duel? What do you mean entrance duel?"

"All players will face their first duel, randomly chosen, as soon as they enter the Neutral Zone. Are you ready to enter now? Or do you have any questions?"

Jesus Christ, Mason thought, heart beating faster.

"Do we have to kill them? How exactly do the duels end?"

"Biological destruction," answered the smiling robot. "Or surrender."

Mason almost sagged with relief. He wasn't sure if it was creepy or comfortingly worded. 'Biological destruction' was pretty damn intense. But at least if he fought Becky or Blake one of them could just give up. It actually took a big weight off his mind.

"When do we pick teams for the bigger fights? I didn't see anything on the lists."

"Team selection is irrelevant until the end of the first day. Are you ready to enter now?"

"Yes I'm fucking ready," Mason said, tired of the thing and the game and probably more excited to actually fight than he should have been.

His heart was still pounding, but not from fear. He was going to meet the rest of humanity soon. They were going to stick him in a ring with every other murderer and monster left alive, and only one of them was walking out.

Was it real? Hell, it was probably more than one level of ‘unreal’. But it was what they had. The system would re-animate or repair their bodies when it was over. But it was as close to 'real' as you could get without actually killing each other. And win or lose, every player in the game was about to get a brutal reality check.

Mason included.

Nassau shimmered and vanished as Mason's vision faded, then reappeared. He was standing in some kind of holding cell not so different than the tutorial. He summoned Eve's armor and his Elven bow, tucking his nymph charm away. He realized Streak wasn't with him and almost panicked before he flipped open his powers and activated Call Beast.

Streak materialized with a confused howl, then glanced at Mason and instantly calmed. As usual the wolf's curiosity about its insane life was almost zero.

Fighting, or eating? it asked with its tongue out.

Mason couldn't help but smile. It was a good reminder: you didn't have to be a philosopher to understand reality. You just had to take it as it came.

"Fighting," he said, using a moment to kneel and give the animal a good scratch and pet. Then he stood and steadied himself, cycling mentally through his strategies depending on the enemy.

It was usually a cautious approach. Depending on the terrain, he'd circle and lay traps, listening and smelling until he found his enemy and took some curious shots to test defences. He'd pretend to be afraid of close combat, to use his bow and keep Streak hidden if possible until the critical moment.

But if he sensed a caster, he'd send Streak and charge for the kill.

The holding cell flicked with red light, exactly like the training hall. A robotic voice announced the duel was about to begin, and that the players had fifteen seconds to prepare however they wished.

Mason had nothing to prepare but his mind. He stood completely still, heart steadying now that the fight had almost arrived.

He felt Streak's urge to hunt, to catch his prey, to taste the blood of his kill. Mason almost smiled when he heard the animal snarl with anticipation. But when he looked over and saw Streak perfectly at ease, he realized it wasn't the wolf at all.

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