The genesis game volume.., p.1
The Genesis Game: Volume II, page 1
The Genesis Game
Volume II
A Dark Dungeon Realm LitRPG
By Wolfe Locke
A Novel of Pandemonium
The Pandemonium Series
Arc I - Rebirth of the Tyrant King
The Genesis Game: Volume I (Fall/2019)
The Genesis Game: Volume II (Spring/2020)
The Genesis Game: Beginnings (Summer/2020)
Arc II – The Dark Lords
The Skeletal Champion (Winter/2020)
The Spectral Tower (Summer/2021)
Re: Dark Knight Evolution (Summer/2021)
Dungeon of the Old Gods (Spring/2021)
Arc III - Afterlife
The Tower of Ruin Volumes 1-7 (Fin/Fall2022)
Arc IV – World of Darkness
The Hero’s Emblem (Fall 2021)
Arc V – Extinction
March of the Army of Darkness (Fall 2021)
The Madness of Aeon (Fall 2022)
Other Books By The Author
Monster Mage
Essense Weaver (Spring/2020)
Corridor of Fire (Summer/2021)
Apocalypse Hero
Apocalypse Hero (Summer/2020)
True John Crusade (Summer/2021)
Netherland: The Owl Eater’s Legacy (Winter/2020)
The Hollow Blade (Spring/2021)
The Retired S-Rank Hero – A LitRPG Light Novel
Volume I (Spring/2021)
Volume II (Summer/2021)
This book is dedicated to the LitRPG Forum Community.
@2019 Wolfe Locke. All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without
permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright
law.
Chapter 1: Master of the Dungeon
Light shone from multiple screens in the General Manager’s office, the glare reflecting off his bifocals as he watched in earnest the progress of the first players as they progressed through the tutorial phases of his beginner dungeon. Out of the top scores of players, one, in particular, held his attention the most—the boy, Luca, a young, recently transformed Fallen. The one who had begun to call himself Seraph, and the one who had inherited the memories of the only man to ever complete the dungeon. The use of that name, heavy with implications, intrigued the General Manager at the possibilities.
On another set of screens, less exciting but still an integral
part of operations, the General Manager kept a close eye on the flow of traffic outside the attraction, waiting for peak hours before beginning the process by which the World Dungeon would reveal itself and emerge from the confines of the mall and the current limitations of its clever facade.
Two clocks shone in red—one reflecting the time of the
outside world, and the other indicating the much faster time as it elapsed inside the dungeon. Based on the timeline established by the first round of players within the tutorial, they could—with increased numbers—process thousands of players a day, as long as the nuanced nature of the tutorial dungeon didn’t drive its tutorial boss too mad.
It was a marvel even for the General Manager that the entity
known as Reverend had become entrapped in both the World Dungeon as a Wight and anchored as a Dark Caller to the apocalyptic future the General Manager had hoped to avoid. Avoidance of that future was the primary reason he had allowed the boy to receive the memories of his future self. Existing in both the present and the future at the same time had forced the dungeon to make many alterations and adjustments to prevent its own demise. This was a side effect and consequence of time travel.
With a sigh, the General Manager looked at the screens
showing the surface again. In a few short hours, many of those people milling about, laughing, going about their lives, would be killed. Their deaths were not something he looked forward to and enjoyed. Rather, they were a consequence and unavoidable collateral damage as he sought to empower humanity to save themselves.
Turning away from the scenes on the surface, the General Manager turned his attention back to running his game. He had hoped to see some breakouts with the changes he had made to the dungeon, but he was mostly disappointed by what he had seen so far—though the man in the second cohort he had entrusted the Kraken Class to seemed to be showing some potential.
Tirelessly, the General Manager watched the players for hours
as they moved through his dungeon, his eyes never straying from the screens in front of him. He was always making mental notes of things he would implement in the future in following cohorts, considering necessary changes to the overall tutorial setup. Death was a given in the Genesis Game, but as long as he could make a few easy changes to prevent unnecessary deaths, he was okay with that. It was the least that he could do while he still had the power to do so.
The first change he implemented was almost comical in its
simplicity—a mandatory name change, creating a handle to be used by all future participants. The General Manager knew it would help the humans to acclimatize quicker to their new environment, allowing them to fully immerse themselves in their new reality and their new identity as players.
With a mental command sent to the front desk, every
registration form had a simple line added to it that new players would need to fill out that read “Character Name.” For those who would come later, he mentally advised all of his minions within the tutorial that they would need to demand the players give themselves a new name.
With the fundamental change in place, the General Manager
had an epiphany, and he smiled as an idea lit up his face. Just as he demanded new names from the players, so he would also need a new name to be called by. Though the General Manager had been called by many names throughout the millennia, none could be used here, their names and meaning lost to all not of Pandemonium The other dark lords were not yet ready to reveal themselves.
No inspiration came to him for what his new name would be,
but he did not need to rely just on himself. Mentally, the General Manager tugged at the threads of the chain of his consciousness that connected him to the infinite existence that was his true self. Sifting through the knowledge at his disposal, the combined sum of every life that had ended and been absorbed within his walls appeared for him to peruse. In his mind, he read vast lists of aliases, monikers, code names of superheroes, villains, anti-heroes, and even minor cast members from cult classics, but none struck him as the one he should choose for himself. None seemed to fit.
I need to go deeper into myself, he thought as he allowed his
body to sink into his chair and relax into a meditative state. He closed his eyes and shut himself off from the room as he slowly retreated from within the body he had created for himself. He reached out to the rest of his idle consciousness, which spanned both time and space. The vast multitude that existed within him, Legion, the millions who had died and been absorbed, one by one, he explored their memories, their thoughts, their fears, and their dreams.
Entire lives seen through foreign eyes in milliseconds, and yet
he felt nothing as he browsed, more curator than anything. Until, finally, mere moments later, he found what he had been looking for— a name he could call himself in the memory of one who had profoundly loved irony.
“My name will be Michael,” he said out loud as he returned his consciousness to the room, slipping back into his body. Only seconds had passed, and Michael saw that the players were still finishing up in-processing. The next cohort was already through and done with their reading and on to the weapon selection.
Michael was pleased when he saw his minions across their
many locations pressing the players for a new name. Without a script to go from, they had to adapt on the spot, and his minions all performed well. It was one of the many reasons Michael had allowed the elves to seek refuge in the dungeon rather than be destroyed after the God Aeon and Wormwood had come for them.
In every realm that Michael had tried to interfere, none had been able to stop the mad god. Though the Dark Lords of Pandemonium prepared, the eventual confrontation would be a calamity.
Adjusting himself for comfort, Michael returned his gaze to the
monitors in front of him, his attention shifting to the new cohort of players. Things had gone predictably with the first cohort, but he was curious to see how Luca would respond to the offer being made. Whatever they chose, the first cohort was free to either enter the real dungeon or pursue a little rest and respite. They had a few days within the dungeon before the rest of humanity would begin to join them.
A knock on the door distracted him for a second, breaking his attention away from his players. Michael turned away from the screens to call out to the knocker, "Come in, Sadie, but be quick about it.”
He knew it was her, even without his abilities. There was only one person who would be knocking on his door—Sadie—as Garen was currently occupied and always addressed him before knocking. She knew that he was still in, and she knew he never left. None of his other workers—as he had come to refer to his sentient minions— ever came to the surface level like this, and few of his workers ever tried to interact with him directly.
Sadie opened the door, letting herself into the small office, recoiling initially as the room smelled strongly of burnt coffee and aftershave. If the General Manager noticed the smells, he seemed not to notice as h e turned his attention back to the monitors, swaying back and forth in his chair. A pensive look crossed his face as he stared at the numerous screens that showed the dungeon.
"Was there something you needed, Sadie?” Michael asked. “The first class is almost finished.” His face remained focused on the screens as he spoke, his eyes hyper-focused, never moving away.
“Those things you’ve appointed as masters of the floors have delivered a message that they are in place,” Sadie said, her expression struggling to remain calm, and not twist with the disgust he knew she must be feeling.
He frowned, rubbing his face before answering. “It can’t be
helped. The Demon princes are powerful—powerful enough that they can manage a floor without relying on my power. I know they have their own motives, but so do I. Moving my dungeon back in time has crippled me in ways I had never considered. Be careful; I will watch them as I can. So long as they obey the rules of the game, I will not revoke their position. Now is there something else?”
"Well… yes, Master, there is something," she replied nervously, lines of concern etched on her face. "I don't understand why you're doing these things. Why give these people another chance? Why harm yourself like this? Why sit in this office and pretend to be human? It's confusing to me, and it's confusing to the rest of the workers. It's just… it's just, I don't know. I don't know how to phrase it. It's hard to understand why you would go to all this trouble."
Michael noticed the tinge of fear in her voice and concern for
him. "It's fine, Sadie, but please call me Michael from now on. Michael, the General Manager, that’s all anyone, especially the players, need to know me as. Make sure you disseminate that to all the workers; we do need to keep up appearances for all of our new guests."
When she didn’t respond immediately, Michael tilted his head
to the side and looked at her. “You’re wondering why a nearly all-powerful being like myself would feel the need to come up with this elaborate charade, limiting me to an office rather than spreading my omnipresent consciousness throughout my dungeon and actual body?“
Sadie bit the inside of her mouth, not wanting to admit she and the other workers had been second-guessing some of his decisions. She eventually shrugged her shoulders and smiled in admittance that it was true. "Yeah, pretty much, Master. We just don't understand a few things that are going on, and we have been hoping you could shed some light on things and give us a little clarity and guidance in how we are supposed to react—especially with that man."
"It's simple, really," replied Michael with a smile as he pushed a hand through his hair. "Because I want to.”
Sadie closed her eyes and bit her lip again, unsure of how to respond, eliciting a laugh from the General Manager.
Noting the shocked expression that briefly crossed her face, Michael added, “Of course, it’s not something as simple as for my own enjoyment, Sadie. I am not so petty. It’s a joke, a human thing; enjoy the moment more. Because I have to," explained Michael with a grin before his expression turned dark. “In order to regain the power I lost by granting humanity a second chance, I need that man. Otherwise, I would need to consume this entire world to survive.”
“Why him, Master?” was her only response.
“Because, Sadie, he survived and reached the altar of the end, but he reached it alone. He was the only one I could send back. My ark is wasted saving just one man—no matter how powerful—but if he could elevate humanity to be near the same power while growing his own, they have a chance. Then we may all have a chance at finally defeating Aeon and putting an end to the madness of the blight.”
“What do I need to do, Master?” Sadie asked, her voice low as she took in the enormity of the task in front of them.
Michael paused and considered his answer. “Treat him like you would any other player. Now, above all else, I need him alive; I have invested too much into his survival. My survival depends on his. There is little he can do currently besides making the most of his time to explore and grind like the other players. He may unlock the power he once had—or even powers he never had before—but I cannot unseal his true body and restore it to him. He must do that on his own, and you, you must help him."
Michael changed the subject. "I want to do things differently this time. I need to change and grow if I am to survive; we all do. Humanity is far more fragile than I had ever imagined a species could be. But they are so numerous and malleable, I know we can save them. We can win. This charade of a game is for their benefit, not ours. We need to help them succeed, despite their volatile nature."
"I don't really understand what you mean, Master," Sadie admitted as she struggled to keep pace with his explanation.
Michael’s expression became severe; he wanted her to understand. If he could get her to understand, Michael knew she would spread the word to the other workers; this was a conversation he would prefer to have just this once. He needed them to understand. Even now, he had still been unable to repair the damage to the dungeon that had occurred in the final battle, and almost all of his energy had been used traveling back into the past—an effort that rendered him more weak and vulnerable than he’d ever care to admit.
Sadie knew he was serious when he completely turned in his
chair and faced her, his eyes boring into her, giving her his undivided attention—or at least as close to full attention as an almost all-powerful being could provide.
"Sadie, before Aeon's Blight destroyed Titania, how did your people respond upon its discovery, and the discovery of how it warped nature?" asked Michael softly as he touched upon a harsh nerve.
She frowned at the mention of her homeworld. It was not a pleasant memory. The death of her world was not something easily revisited, even for the master of the dungeon. "Master, we didn't call it Aeon's Blight; we called it the Green Madness, and we did everything we could to try and stop it. We cordoned off entire areas, seeking to control its spread. We quarantined those who had been exposed to it. We evacuated our people and tried to keep them safe. We fought and never stopped fighting against it, but even with the power we gained during the Genesis Game, it still was not enough to save our world. You know our numbers had always been few, and you know what happened."
Michael shook his head in disagreement; her answer wasn't what he was looking for. "That's not what I meant, Sadie. Every animal alive will fight when its back is to the wall. Nothing living craves oblivion. It’s what else your people did that matters. They investigated Aeon's Blight when they found it. They probed the outskirts, quantified and qualified its limits, sought knowledge of the monsters within its mists, and sought ways to prevent its spread.”
Looking her in the eye, his expression grim, Michael
continued, “You banded together, you patrolled its outskirts, you limited your casualties, and you honed the magic that you already possessed and the skills you had been building during your training. You fought back and never gave up—never questioning that fighting back was what you needed to do, never giving up on looking for answers, and never questioning that true evil and total annihilation had come for you.”
“Master, I’m not trying to be rude. I’m really not. But how does that explain what you’re doing here masquerading as a man? Also, you know we don’t like to talk about what happened,” replied Sadie as she fidgeted nervously.
“It’s OK; you don’t need to be nervous,” replied Michael, in an attempt to soothe her nerves. Her anxious movements called attention to her growing unease; her body language revealing her fear as she talked to the god-like being.
“Here, have some coffee,” Michael said as he poured her a cup when his attempt to quell her anxiety didn’t work. “I’m assuming two creams and one sugar. It’s quite the delicate ratio for coffee. It’s important to get it right, or it throws off the whole brew.”
“Master, I’m fine, really,” she said, protesting as she pushed the cup away, anxious to be done with this conversation, and regretting that she had even asked.
“I insist,” said Michael, forcefully pushing the cup back towards her. “Here, I’ll set it down on the table, and if you decide you want to drink it, it’s already there. Besides, you should sit down for a second. I might be new to this, but I can see you’re not alright. I can see that you’re deeply uncomfortable. You’re literally shaking right now. Though I’m unsure if the shaking is due to the memory of the destruction of your homeworld or fear of me. Please, just sit down, have a drink of this coffee I made for you, and I’ll explain.
