.Hack//ZERO ME:1000

ME:1000

While engulfed in light, I started to hear murmuring all around me.

Eventually, colors began to break through the light, and I opened my eyes.

The golden ring of the Chaos Gate spun slowly around me.

And a city of canals sparkling in the sunset spread out before me – Mac Anu.

I stepped out of the gate onto a cobblestone path.

Stone buildings with reddish-brown tiled roofs surrounded me on all sides. And a golden sky stretched out above me.

Though I’ve never been there before, I imagined this must be what Venice was like.

Although from what I’d heard, the water in the real Venice is stagnant and smells like a ditch. Here, however, the canals were as clear as a country stream.

Not that I’d ever seen a stream in the countryside either, and unlike the country, the city here was full of people.

People wearing leather and steel armor, hefting around swords, spears, and axes, and all of them looked like they were waiting, hoping that something amazing would happen.

And I was there, walking carefully between them. I kept my eyes pointed forward.

My silver hair danced in the wind.

My shoulders were bare, but a high collar still covered my neck. The shirt fit snuggly over my torso, and the skirt reached down to my ankles, with a slit opening in the front.

And as a finishing touch, a single rainbow moonstone rest on my chest, iridescent like a pearl.

I don’t look anything like the kind of princesses I used to draw as a kid. But I wasn’t a princess here. I was a demon.

I chose the outfit’s colors at random – a navy blue almost dark enough to be black. I had wanted to add some ocher tones to the ensemble, but in the end, I couldn’t figure out how to fit it in, so I left it out.

After I finalized it though, I realized how conspicuous the design actually made me look.

Most of the PCs around me were dressed in more gentle pastels or bright primary colors.

Among them, my dark clothing looked eerily like a mourning dress.

A princess in mourning, or perhaps a sly witch carrying a terrifying axe at her side, the same silver color as her hair.

With it, I could kill as many enemies as I wished.

I was Carl, a Heavy Axeman.

And I had no friends. I can’t even remember how long it’s been since I last bothered to form a party or participate in an event.

I forgot all about that stuff.

I’ve been alone all my life.

But that’s something I had learned to live with.

“Would you be willing to trade?”

As I was crossing over the bridge in the center of town, a Wavemaster boy spoke to me.

He wore a bejeweled hat and a large jacket laced with ribbon embroidery and a pearl set into his plate.

He had pale skin like someone from the north, highlighted by bright blue tattoos.

Feels like I’ve been seeing a lot of PCs like him recently. It must be the style that’s ‘in’ these days.

Ordinarily, I would have just kept walking and ignored him, but just this once, I decided to stop.

Maybe it was just my headache making me testy.

“What do you want?”

I got to the point quickly, with a slight edge of hostility in my tone.

He must have been able to tell just how much his interruption was annoying me.

Because I could see hesitation take hold of him as he fidgeted before me.

“Do you have any Crosses of Light, perhaps?”

He made his request with such a reserved, feeble tone, but I’d already decided to humor him, so I guess I had to follow through with the transaction.

Was he trying to be polite? No. He was just an idiot being blindly honest.

“Sure thing,” I agreed right away. “How many?”

“Really?”

With just that, the Wavemaster sounded a lot more confident in himself.

And so, rather than play dumb, I asked plainly, “You a newbie?”

Immediately, the boy’s happy expression vanished, and his shoulders hunched in embarrassment. It was almost funny.

How long you’ve been playing The World was important information. PCs are always trying to hide how strong they are to get an edge over their rivals.

Lies, bluffs, gossip mongering, misdirection, subterfuge. Anything would work; as long as you could fake it, your golden.

But if anyone discovered what you’ve been hiding, they’ll chew you up and spit you out.

You’d be ridiculed, insulted, and ignored. And in The World, there could be no worse fate.

But after only a moment’s hesitation, the Wavemaster decided to just play it straight. It was the smart thing to do.

“I’ve been playing about six months. How about you?”

“A little over a year.”

“Oh, so that’s why you have so many items.”

The Wavemaster adopted a more polite demeanor.

“Idiot.” I muttered an insult under my breath.

I gave him exactly what he asked for, but then he took on an apologetic tone.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t really have much to offer in return. Would some Piney Apples be alright?”

“Just take it.”

“What?”

I turned to walk away, but he called out to me again.

“Wait! I know, I’ll give you my member address and…”

He tried to follow me, but I wasn’t going to stop for him again.

Yet in spite of that, the stupid kid just kept on talking.

He should just be glad that he got his hands on a Cross of Light.

I can make as many of them as I want anyways, so it’s not like I went out of my way for them.

It was as easy as looking up a guide online and following the instructions. There was really nothing to it.

Plug an item’s name into a search bar and you’ll immediately find a dozen different fan pages for that kind of thing.

Of course, in reality that kind of thing is an illegal practice called ‘hacking’.

The admins don’t want players changing item properties without permission.

In fact, it’s entirely possible to get your account banned for doing this kind of thing. You could even be charged with a crime in real life.

But I have to wonder if it’s really that big of a deal.

I’d like to say that I’m not hurting anyone by doing it, but that would just be stupid.

The issue comes when someone does it to make a profit by exploiting others. I might just be trying to have fun playing the game my own way, but others will always wind up ruining things for everyone.

Just like this kid.

The Cross of Light isn’t a common item. You wouldn’t normally find anyone with as many of them as I have.

But since it’s easy for me to get more, I had no problem giving him a few.

He’ll be lucky if he can even use them, and even if he can’t, I won’t have lost anything. It’s all the same to me in the end.

And for a newbie just getting into the swing of things, it shouldn’t be that big a deal either.

It shouldn’t be, anyways. But maybe this kid actually thinks I’m a kind-hearted veteran now.

Of course, if he does think that, then he really is an idiot.

So, I thought, maybe I should show him what happens to idiots like him.

Stupid people are worse than bad people.

At least, that’s what I think. Though I’m smart enough not to say that out loud.

I heaved a heavy sigh.

My headache was about to get a lot worse.

I’m sure my face must have been twisted in pain right now.

And right then, as if on cue, I heard a sound like a bird chirping in my ears.

Someone had sent me a short mail. And at a time like this.

I hadn’t been expecting it, but I opened the message anyways.

While I continued moving through the city with the controller, my surroundings dimmed, and letters floated through a window in my vision.

Not surprisingly, it was from someone I used to know – an old acquaintance.

From back when I still believed that innocence was a good quality to have.

She said she still doesn’t understand why I became so hostile all of a sudden. Then she asked me to tell her if anything was wrong, claiming she wanted to help.

She talked like an idiot.

Whether or not I changed doesn’t matter. It’s just annoying having her constantly try to contact me.

The smart thing for her to do would be to stay away from me. To leave me alone and forget she ever knew me.

So, I sent her a reply. “Alph. Stop messaging me already.”

But even if I tell her to stop, she’s probably not going to.

Because she’s convinced that she’s doing it for my sake.

She thinks she can help me be better, and that by doing so, she will improve herself as well.

How conceited. How condescending.

With the sound of my reply being sent out, the sky regained its color and clarity.

“This is so stupid.” I mutter to myself. Saying it out loud helped me deal with my irritation. At least a little bit, anyways.

People are all idiots.

They log in to a virtual world, and just end up doing the same dumb things they do in real life. Try to make friends, shoot the breeze, and show off to each other.

All hapless, blissful idiots.

And that’s why I tried to stay away from them all. I refused to end up like them.

I wasn’t here to make friends; I was just here to give myself an outlet for all my pent-up aggression.

Aggression at The World, specifically. Because I loathe this world that was founded on the mistaken belief that people are fundamentally kind.

I knew that anything I did here would only be about as effective as a drop of ink in the ocean, but that’s what I had decided to do.

Whether or not it made sense, I was going to do whatever I wanted to do.

And what I wanted was to corrupt The World.

After a moment, I heard the sound of birds chirping in my ear again.

Another message from Alph. I didn’t bother reading through this one, as soon as I saw the words ‘dear Carl’, I deleted it without hesitation.

Then I shook my head and kept on walking.

I bumped shoulders with someone on the road.

And he loudly clicked his tongue at me.

Finally, a little malice. It made me want to thank them.

I wish this place had more people like that in it.

If it did, this place wouldn’t be so bad.

The sound of my footsteps echoed off the high ceiling.

I couldn’t help but try to breathe in the air of this place. I knew I was still in my room, but I didn’t care.

Even still, the headache that had been eating away at me all day seemed to melt away as I did, and at long last, it felt like I could breathe normally again.

If there was one place in The World I actually like, it was here.

<Hidden Forbidden Holy Ground>

Though it was modeled after a Cathedral, there was nothing to worship here. Nobody visited, nobody held sermons. It was just… here.

I walked forward.

I wondered if this is what the Duomo at the Vatican feels like, too. I used to want to go there, but not anymore.

Because I can no longer imagine a place more sacred and pure than here.

Gentle light streamed in through the large stained-glass windows that could have signified dusk or dawn.

I first visited this place just after I started playing The World.

I’d heard about it from the BBS before I even had an account.

Which was also how I knew that nothing would ever happen here.

Hulle Granz Cathedral - it was the name itself that drew me in at first. It was the kind of name that seemed to hold great meaning, yet no meaning at the same time.

And then when I actually saw the place, I was fascinated by its design.

It was almost like love at first sight.

Even if it was just a bunch of computer data, this place had captured my attention more completely than anywhere in reality. Much more so than any of the photos of places like the Isle of Man or the Wastelands of Patagonia.

And all from the comfort of my own bedroom.

That said, I don’t really understand why I feel this way about it.

There probably wasn’t a real reason behind why I like it so much. Love tends to be hard to grasp, like that.

But on the other hand, you can always find reasons to hate something.

The only thing I could say for certain was that I was attracted to this place because I sensed malice in its emptiness.

And that malice was bathed in a divine light.

I approached the inner sanctum. There in the center, an altar sat empty.

But just as I was about to turn around and leave, I caught sight of something that made me screech to a halt.

There was somebody there by the altar.

Of course, it wasn’t like this area was restricted; anyone could come and go from here as they pleased.

But only a beginner or someone with insatiable curiosity would actually stick around for long.

Everybody comes here at least once, after all. If not in the hopes that something would happen, then at least to appreciate the design.

Then they get angry when nothing happens, or get tired of waiting, give up, and leave. After that, they never come back.

I’d seen PCs like that pass through on occasion.

Though I never talked to them because it just felt wrong running into people here.

But this PC was strange.

I’d never seen anyone like this before.

They were wearing some kind of cape or cloak, a ragged looking thing all ripped and frayed at the edges. And underneath that, persimmon-colored wrappings caked with what looked like dirt or blood covering a torn-up jacket.

They were curled up on the floor, too, so I couldn’t tell how tall they were.

All sorts of warning bells started going off in the back of my mind. But at the same time, my curiosity was piqued since this was obviously a hacked PC.

Someone who couldn’t make exactly the kind of character design they wanted with the game’s creation menu, and so modified the data themselves, and then found their way here. In this case, the cheats used to tailor the outfit were of greater interest than the character design itself.

This was someone who was not happy with The World. Someone who was angry with The World.

Either that, or they were one of those people that just liked to show off their hacking skills.

Almost like they were asking for someone to point it out and start yelling at them for it.

But that couldn’t have been the case for the person in front of me now.

Because if they wanted to show off, they wouldn’t have come out to a place like this.

And they weren’t simply hiding, waiting to pounce on anyone that came too close.

I could feel my heart racing.

I approached with caution.

I wasn’t some helpless little girl, but they could still be a PK.

Someone that would attack and kill other PCs to make the game more interesting for themselves.

Even if it’s all fun and games, it doesn’t feel good to have your PC – an extension and reflection of yourself – killed by someone else.

Though on the flip side, some people get a twisted sense of satisfaction from knowing that they’ve caused that kind of grief for others.

I wondered how fast they would move, what kind of weapons they would use. It was entirely possible that they hadn’t just altered their appearance, but their items and stats, as well.

It should be alright.

I’ve gotten used to killing and being killed by now, after all.

“Hey, you.”

I placed myself on the person’s left, assuming that would be their non-dominant hand.

But they didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow at me.

For the first moment, at least. But just as I thought they weren’t reacting, they started to move, slowly.

I took a couple steps back on reflex.

But once I got a good look at them, I realized that was a stupid thing to do.

They had their chin tucked in against their chest, but once they straightened up a bit, I realized that their PC was male.

And very tall.

I set my PC’s height as high as I could for a female character – 176cm.

Yet when this guy stood up, he was still taller than me.

He had a scar running across his left cheek.

“What are you doing here?”

My voice pitched a little. I guess it had been a while since I’d really tried to hold a conversation with anyone.

But the man didn’t reply.

My heart was pounding with anticipation.

“Who are you?”

I tried being a little more forceful.

Finally, the guy turned his head to look at me. No, it was more like he was looking through me.

“……I………am…”

The sound of his voice made my skin crawl.

He must have been using a voice changer. With something like that, you can make yourself sound like pretty much anything.

You could even make it sound like you’re a different gender. But making a change that drastic always ends up sounding artificial, so they’re easy to spot.

“What? What did you say?”

I took a step closer.

And then suddenly, he bolted at me. Like a switch got flipped in his head.

He dashed forward – fast – and pulled his hand out from under his cloak.

In an instant, I was pinned with my back against the wall.

The man brought his face up close to mine.

Dark vermilion eyes glared at me from behind his head wraps. But it wasn’t intent to kill that I saw in them. It was something even more primal and feral than that.

His grip was so strong, I couldn’t break free.

“You gonna’ kill me or not?”

Yet when he did nothing, I felt impatient and snapped at him.

At least if I got killed, I could re-login. But it would just be a waste of time to stand here staring at each other.

“I’m tired. Of all this.”

He finally spoke clearly, but his words made me blink in confusion.

And then just like that, the man dropped his arm and let me go.

“I’m Carl. Who are you?”

“Carl…”

The man fumbled over my name, taking time to sound it out.

“That’s right, I’m Carl.”

“…………”

He fell silent again.

“And you are?”

I stepped closer to him.

And this time, he was the one to back away. But the way he moved was odd.

One of his legs was moving stiffly. He was limping on it, like someone with a twisted ankle.

As an act, it was convincing. But it couldn’t be true, especially considering how fast he had been just a moment ago.

That’s right, it was too late for him to start lying. He’d already revealed his true nature to me.

“……don’t have one.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I forgot it.”

“Cut the crap.”

I tried to keep my voice down, but inside I was ecstatic!

Joy. Excitement. Euphoria. I felt all of those emotions, but there was also something else.

It was like I had a baby sparrow in the palm of my hand. Right in front of me, I was holding something small and fragile.

That said, the man in front of me was no helpless sparrow.

“Tell me your name. Or at least give me your member address.”

“You want to be my friend?”

At that question, I flinched involuntarily.

“You really want to be friends with me?”

Although his voice was rough, he sounded like a child.

But even that could have just been part of an act. If it was though, I decided I would play along.

“Yes. Let’s be good friends.”

I nodded my head.

The word ‘friend’ really put me off though. It was a foreign concept to me, completely ridiculous.

The guy finally looked at me. He wasn’t looking through me like before now, he actually, properly met my eyes.

And extended his hand towards me.

But when I saw that hand, I gasped.

His hand was not a human hand. Instead of flesh and blood, or some kind of prosthetic, it looked like it was made out of stone. Like a statue’s hand.

I froze, staring at the texture and wondering just what was wrong with this guy.

“My name is-”

Static.

I’m sure he said his name, but I couldn’t catch it.

Just as the man was finishing his introduction, a sound like explosions rocked my brain, and everything suddenly went dark.

The display must have burned out. After squeezing my eyes shut on reflex, I rushed to pull the FMD off of my face and watched as the image slowly came back into focus.

And there I saw a beautiful, empty cathedral filled with nothing but soft light.

Just like that, the strange man was gone.

Back to ME:----

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