Pastor Joe shook his head; what a beautiful tragedy.
This inmate, above any he ministered to, was joyful. The system, both the prison and his old gang, had done their best to beat it out of him, but it was a joy that could not be beaten out.
Earlier, Wayne messaged him and asked for a visit. Some new opportunity had come up, and he wanted to speak to his pastor about it. Joe could guess what this was about. Over his years of visits, he had built relationships with many of the staff. They had told him about the coming changes, and he was excited for Wayne.
Being a regular volunteer, Joe cleared security quickly and walked through several more layers of gates and guards to arrive at Wayne's building. It was long, squat, and white. As he entered, there were small "yards" to the right and left, twenty-foot square areas with fake grass where the inmates in this block would recreate alone daily.
When Joe arrived at Wayne's cell, another white box with a bunk in one corner and a metal sink toilet combo in the other, the guard brought a chair and opened the hole in the door they communicated through. Wayne pushed himself over in his wheelchair. Once they said their hellos, Wayne jumped right in, "Pastor Joe, many would consider my life miserable. I don't. I find deep satisfaction in knowing and serving God, but my service is limited. I do my best to give a testimony to the guards, but I think I was meant for something more. As strange as it may sound, they offered us the chance to live inside a computer. I was never into that stuff, but this sounds like more than a game; it sounds like a new life. Have you heard about this?"
"Fantasy Mainline?" Joe asked.
"Yeah, the name makes me a little worried; I have never been able to walk the mainline prison yards because people want to kill me. But if you die in the game, you come back in a minute or so for another try. And I won't have the same face or body. I can even change my name. No one should recognize me. Maybe I can have a somewhat normal life again, pastor. But will God be angry with me if I do? I would gladly live in this little cell for the rest of my life if that's what He wants. Would I be exchanging the world God made for a world man has made?"
Joe realized that 'mainline' had more than one meaning. "Wayne, you live in a building men made now. But we would still say God made it. He did so through men. Correct?"
Wayne nodded.
Realizing he was using an argument Lance might have used, Joe continued, "The game is no different; it's something God made through men. A member of our church, a seminary student, is playing now. Given your situation, I don't think it would be wrong if you chose to have a new life in a new world."
Wayne's smile was always infectious, but this one stretched nearly ear to ear.
"You have my contact information, right?"
Wayne did have Joe's number; it was the only one he had on his account. No other family or friends had stayed with him. "Yup, I have it."
"Then we should still be able to meet weekly for our talks. Once you are in, send me a video request. How fast do you think it will be?"
"They say if I can make a decision in..." He glanced at his simple digital wristwatch, "six minutes. I can be in tonight. The structure they have been building to the North is where we will be housed. Those of us who are disabled are getting the first shot at it."
"Well then, I don't want to delay you." Joe gave Wayne a smile.
"Thank you, pastor, thank you so much!"
Joe reached into the cell and squeezed Wayne's hand. Then, he turned and walked away with a tear running down his cheek. This game was consuming his closest friends.
###
Wayne woke up in a comfortable bed. He had forgotten what a soft bed was like, so he kept his eyes closed and enjoyed it for a moment. Then he felt the strangest thing: his toes. He could feel his toes! He must be in the system, but this was so real it blew him away. Lord, I trust it's been your will for my life to enter this game. There's no going back now. Thank you for the chance to live for you in this new place. Thank you for this happiness and joy. Please help me to serve you here with every breath. Give me wisdom. I have much knowledge but not much wisdom, so I need Your Holy Spirit to be here with me now. A rush of sensation hit him. He associated it with being filled with the Spirit. He just laid there and enjoyed the feeling for a while and then sat up. It was difficult at first: his brain was trying to control his legs for the first time in two decades.
A voice to his right said, "About time!"
Wayne whipped his head around to face the source. A small green-looking beast of a man stood in the air about five feet off the ground. "Who are you?"
"Otis is my name," the creature replied, "and being your guide is my game."
Magic and stuff were part of the system, but this was nuts. He tended to roll with the punches, so he said, "Okay, tell me what I need to know. How do I get kitted out? How do I start playing?"
"Whoa, cowboy, slow down. First things first. You came with instructions. You need to learn how to walk again."
Wayne spent the next hour adjusting to having legs. He kept himself in shape, but he had endless energy here. As he learned to walk, squat, jump, jog, and do many other things, he noticed his skin was still black. He had seen the classic film series The Lord of the Rings, so he understood what an orc was. He understood inmates played orcs in the game, so he wasn't sure why he was still a human. He did not want to look like himself: too many people from his old gang would recognize his face.
After he was confident with his new legs, Otis led him over to a side of the room which was paneled in rich brown wood, almost the same color as his skin. The little creature pushed a panel, and a mirror popped out of the wall. Wayne walked in front of it and was shocked. A much larger version of the little orc appeared there. It moved with him.
"Whenever you come back here, you will look like you do in the real world, but in the game, you will be playing an orc. What we are doing now is a one-time thing. Once your in-game avatar is set, you will not be able to change it."
Otis prompted Wayne to use sliders to adjust his appearance. He worked to make the creature in front of him appear as human as possible but nothing like him. No tusks sticking out of the mouth, a narrower head, a little taller. His eyes brown instead of purple, hair black and not deep green. Finally, the orc in the mirror looked as human as he knew how to make him. He looked like a small version of The Hulk.
"Next, you are going to need to learn how to use a HUD. You have been out of society for a bit, and this is a skill you don't have." Otis explained.
The little orc walked him through bringing up the display, using the settings and inventory, and popping items into his hand. Otis brought him over to another wall, which morphed to show four squares. The first had a sword embossed on it, the second a wand, the third a cloak, and the last had a staff. "These are the four entry-level classes: fighter, mage, thief, and cleric. A fighter is someone who focuses on physical attacks, and if you work in a group, you can choose to take damage for the weaker players. A mage is a magic user who fights with spells but can't take much abuse. A thief is sneaky and can do a lot of damage but can't take much. Clerics fight okay, but they also use abilities their god gives them to heal others."
What Wayne heard was that fighters are noble and defend their friends. Mages are Twinkies who do weird stuff. Thieves, I'm no longer a thief! Priest equals false prophet. The choice was clear; he reached out and chose the sword.
Otis nodded, "Fighters start with Shield Bash and Power Strike and the ability to wield all one-handed weapons and shields. Power Strike lets you spend some of your stamina to make your attacks more powerful. Shield Bash allows you to strike your opponent with your shield.
"Now, you need to pick your specialization. There are three options. Being a Tank will give you the taunt ability, which will allow you to make yourself the center of all of your enemies' attacks, taking the focus off the other members of your party.
"If you choose Berserker, you will lose the shield and Shield Bash but gain access to all two-handed weapons and the ability to go berserk, spending stamina to increase your damage. At the same time, you will heal quickly, but you will be more likely to be hit by opponents.
"The last option is Warrior. This one lets you keep the shield but also allows you to wield two-handed weapons. When you do, you can use your weapon like a shield by spinning it."
The wall changed to reflect the three new choices.
Wayne nodded and touched the shield symbol. "I'm a tank."
As he said this, the wall morphed again and showed four more squares, "These are the alignments and gods you must choose from."
"I'm not choosing a god. I already have one."
"Not possible," Otis said, "you have to pick one."
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Wayne's chest tightened. No way, this isn't fair. "What do you mean I have to?"
A massive book appeared in the small orc's hand. "It says here you must choose a deity. If you don't, one will be chosen for you."
"What are the choices?"
"Since you are an orc, your default choice is Dajixian, the god of orcs. He is chaotic and evil, but if you want, you can pick one of the other three."
"Which one is the good one?" Wayne asked.
"No good ones here. You are playing an orc, and orcs are evil by nature."
People think inmates are all bad people. Some of them were evil when they came to prison. But many were just moving along with the flow of their culture when "the man" snatched them up and destroyed their lives. A bad culture produces bad people. A few, like himself, were transformed while incarcerated and were now objectively good by the merits of Jesus and being transformed by the work of the Holy Spirit.
He was not given an opportunity to choose his race but was assigned one viewed as evil. It was clear the system thought all prisoners were evil and thus made this choice on his behalf. This ground at Wayne's sense of justice, but he calmed himself, said a quick prayer, and glanced up. "Okay, which is the least evil?"
"The choices are chaotic evil, chaotic neutral, neutral evil, and true neutral."
"So, tell me about the neutral deity."
Otis flipped open his book again and read in a flat voice, "Dryania, the goddess of forests, is a fairy god and grants her followers bonuses when they are in a forest. She offers the basic healing spell plus the ability to make magical bandages out of the leaves of certain trees. She requires her followers to avoid involvement in political and moral debates."
As he thought about Dryania, the tree symbol in the top left corner began to glow. He reluctantly reached out and touched it.
"One last thing, what will your name be."
Wayne thought for a moment and said, "Call me Grog."
"Okay, you are ready to go."
"Can I make a call first?" Wayne asked.
###
As the white dome faded, Grog was standing in the middle of a village full of Orcs. If he had been dropped into a dragon's den, he would not have been more terrified.
He was sure there were inmates here from his old gang. They had painted a target on his back, and he was certain there were many others who would be glad to earn their favor by obliging them. But he also understood showing fear to these predators was not wise. So, he said a quick prayer, asking for boldness, and headed West. Some lady asked him to save her pet lizard, which she said was stolen by halflings, but he rushed past, paying her no attention.
Once out of town, he sighed in relief and gazed around him. This place was huge. He realized he had just walked in one direction for half a mile. He had been locked in a cell with daily access to a tiny exercise yard. The difference between the two was stunning. And everything was so lifelike. He picked up some leaves and crumpled them in his hand. He bent down to sniff the crumbles, and an earthy scent filled his nostrils. "Praise God." He said.
Dropping to his knees, he prayed, Dear Lord Jesus. This place is not real, but in every way, it seems to be. My true body, the one you redeemed with my soul, is still in bondage, but you have given me so much freedom, freedom I do not deserve. Thanks and praise to you. I know you want me to be bold and one who influences others. I ran away from my first chance to do that. Lord, will you hear Pastor Joe's prayers and make me bolder around people?
As he stood, he glanced up to see a creature lumbering at him. It was like a lizard, but it was easily four feet long. Over its head, a tag was suspended
"Otis, do I have any weapons?"
"Yes, you have a mace and shield, and your body knows how to use them. You can summon them by thinking about it."
As the creature rumbled toward him, a shield and mace appeared in his hands, equipped and ready. His instincts told him to bring his defense up and step to the side as the creature barreled in. He did, and the charge was deflected, but the lizard was quick to spin around and lash out with a clawed foot.
The blow stung. It did not hurt as much as it would in the real world, but he felt it. He swung his weapon at the lizard's neck, registering a solid blow. While his opponent looked for a way through his defenses, he thought he would try something.
He thought Shield Bash and his body stepped forward. His shield shot out, smashing the lizard in the snout. The creature stumbled sideways. Grog had fought enough in his younger years to know it was stunned. He thought Power Strike as he swung at the green, scaly beast. The mace glowed as it bit into the lizard's scales and flesh.
He lifted his weapon and thought Power Strike again, but nothing happened this time.
The animating energy left the creature as it fell to its belly.
"The second Power Strike didn't work because that ability has a 5-second cooldown, and the same is true for Shield Bash. You need to wait five full seconds between uses of those," Otis said. Also, check out that green bar." The little orc pointed to the top left of Grog's HUD.
"Yes, it was bigger before."
"Correct", Otis said. "Using skills and abilities reduces your stamina, and when it's out, they don't work and you will feel very tired. Try not to let it run all the way out. Stamina does come back over time, and you will have more to use as you gain levels."
Grog nodded; this all made some sort of sense.
"You are a bit down on health. If you remember, you have a healing spell. It will drain a little power but should heal you up."
Heal , he thought, and after a brief green glow surrounded his body, his red bar filled up all the way.