Rogue Games Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  ROGUE GAMES

  A LitRPG Adventure

  By Angie A. Huxley

  Copyright © 2018 Angie A. Huxley

  Cover Design © 2018 Angie A. Huxley

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

  The characters and events portrayed are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Prologue

  Matthew Morgan stepped out into the bright sunlight. The metal gates slammed shut behind him, but he kept his gaze forward, refusing to grant another look to the place that had kept him captive the last twenty years. He remembered the day he had arrived, shackled and angry, and the foreboding sight of the prison looming above him. Two decades ago, he had been a young man, full of bravado, ignorant of the form his life would take from that moment.

  Staring down at his hands, Matthew realized that a lot was different now, and not just his attitude. The anger remained, though it had festered into something ugly, a promise to himself that he would see justice served in the right way. The bitterness was fuel to a fire he had long since stopped trying to control. His body had changed during the years he had spent in prison. Aged and wrinkled, he had trouble recognizing the person he had become.

  Slung over one shoulder he had a bag, filled with all the items he had come into the prison with. An ID that was ten years out of date, money that was no doubt worthless to him now, a mobile phone that had long since run out of battery and credit, and his lock picks. He had no idea why he had been given those back, but perhaps the prison guards knew as well as he that he wasn’t going to be breaking into anything anytime soon.

  It was a bitter pill to swallow; Matthew had never been a law-abiding citizen, but now he was going to have to toe the line if he wanted to survive.

  He narrowed down his plan:

  Somewhere to live.

  Get a job.

  Earn money.

  It was a work in progress, but he would add, subtract, and embellish where necessary.

  Somewhere to live was going to be his first problem; none of his family wanted anything to do with him anymore, as his empty visitor log showed, and his old accomplices had long since abandoned him to the inside.

  Matthew still had superior charm and he was good at utilizing that for his own needs. This Federal Correctional Institution was located in a well-populated area, so getting somewhere fast was not going to be too hard. Instead of using the little money he had left, Matthew decided to hitchhike his way to the nearest city. Along the way, he considered the little nest eggs he had squirrelled away in case something went wrong. There was no honor among thieves, after all. A wry smile on his face, Matthew started off down the path. His body ached from the conditions of the prison cell, ageing bones protesting every moment.

  The Highway was busy, cars rushing past at speed, and Matthew noted quickly that he didn’t recognize any of the makes. Even the Highway itself had changed; the skyline, one he had been paying attention to for longer than he cared to remember, had been slowly changing over the years. It was something else to behold out of freedom; buildings were taller, sleeker and shinier. Everything seemed to have that shine to it. It all felt new and out of reach.

  Something, Matthew thought wryly, his life was probably going to see a lot of in the coming days.

  The city itself seemed to open up before him, beckoning him in. He couldn’t resist the pull; he needed somewhere to stay after all, but he was fascinated despite himself about the ways the world had moved on around him. People on the streets barely spared him a glance as he passed, more concerned with their handheld tablets, weird looking eyeglasses, and visors. Some gave him a longer, surprised look, but Matthew supposed that had more to do with the clothes he was wearing, than at any interest in him. Outdated and plain, Matthew added yet another option to his list.

  Get updated clothing.

  Money, then, was the root of everything here. That meant getting a hold of everything he had put away. There were bank accounts, though the ways to access them had probably long since been abandoned. Eyes darting from shop to shop, Matthew zeroed in on a phone store, claiming everything from the latest smartphone (Matthew wondered if they still had his old model) to the updated VR NetSet. Looking through the window, Matthew clenched his hands into fists. If he was going to navigate the rest of the world, he couldn’t let a phone shop stop him in his tracks.

  For all the progress they were making, clearly, the world still hadn’t progressed to getting rid of physical shops. The internet had been in high demand when Matthew had been imprisoned, but it had yet to take over the world completely.

  The counter was set in the back of the shop, and as he approached, Matthew took in the various phones and VR NetSets. There was a large display along one wall, FEDERATION FUED: BATTALION, with a picture of a figure in shadow, two pinpoints of red on his face the only color other than the title. It was a simple, plain image that nevertheless seemed to intrigue the masses; the cassette holder in front had SOLD OUT written across it. Cassettes, Matthew mused. Who would have predicted their comeback?

  Not that they were the cassettes he was used to; in the glass desk, he could see the second-hand and promotional cassettes; they were solid and black, with the title of their program emblazoned on the front. Next to them was a headset like those being worn by people outside. They were clearly meant for those cassettes, and Matthew was struck by just one of the many changes he was going to have to make in this new world.

  “Can I help?”

  The guy at the counter was friendly enough, but he had eyeglasses shoved up on his head, a blinking red light along the rim. They were modernized and, Matthew had no doubt, linked to the ‘net, or a computer, in some way.

  “I need a charger,” he said, keeping his tone even. Pulling his phone out of his bag, the guy’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

  “Woah,” he said, taking the phone out of Matthew’s hands and turning it over in his hands. “I haven’t seen a model like this in over a decade.”

  Matthew sighed. “I’m guessing you can’t help me, then?”

  The guy shrugged, giving Matthew an affable but crooked grin. “We don’t do anything that’ll charge this brick,” which was a crude but apt description of something that was out of date, Matthew supposed, “but I could offer you an exchange.”

  Matthew gestured around him at all of the up-to-date models. “Something tells me that ‘brick’ won’t cover the cost of anything you have in here.”

  “Are you kidding me?” The sales rep snorted and ran his fingers over the phone. “This thing will fetch a mint. If, you know,” he continued, eyeing Matthew warily, as if Matthew would decide to take his phone back and sell it himself, “you know the right people to sell it to.”

  Honestly, Matthew didn’t want the hassle. “Show me what I can get for this thing, and it’s yours.”

  Matthew had seen such smiles before; it was that of someone who thought they’d got one up on you. Matthew stifled
down his irritation at having it directed at him, but he couldn’t fault the guy. In any other position he might have done the same, but he needed a roof over his head and a job. A phone would be a lifeline, especially in the world he was currently finding himself in. A strange and alien world.

  The guy tapped the desk in happiness and disappeared out through a door in the back. Matthew rolled his eyes and turned back to the rest of the store. Phones were easy enough to understand, and while parts of him were intrigued by VR and the eyeglasses, he just wanted the simple and easy.

  “Here we are.” The guy returned, a box emblazoned with what Matthew assumed was a new phone provider, a VR headset and inclusive cassette in a box, and a booklet.

  Matthew scowled. He hadn’t been intending on getting a manual along with everything, but he supposed that was age; a person saw the wrinkles and assumed you were an idiot about technological advances or the modern times. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the guy just what he’d achieved in his lifetime, but that would mean another prison sentence, or being mocked as a liar. It was enough that he knew, Matthew thought, and besides, he had the time to learn what it meant to be twenty years in the future.

  A shift certainly, but not one he faced with trepidation.

  Chapter One

  Getting somewhere to stay was easier after that; Matthew had enough money to get a room in a local hotel, his window facing eastward so that he could avoid looking at the prison. With the help of his new phone, he could figure out how to access his bank accounts and transfer his money slowly. Experience had taught him lump sums caught the eye of the cops more than little and often did.

  The room itself was plain, but enough for his use. A small fridge with purchasable alcohol was the first test of his skills; deactivating and breaking into electronics like it used to be his bread and butter. Now it was difficult. He couldn’t figure out the wires and microchips, and his fingers weren’t as nimble and quick as he was used to them being. Cursing under his breath, he sat on the floor, hips aching, staring at the inner working of the fridge, and realized just how little he knew about these kinds of electronics.

  “Well, Matthew,” he said, a wry smile on his lips. “Guess it’s honest work from now on.”

  It wasn’t a happy thought, but Matthew had done worse. Going straight for a while would just have to tide him over until he could figure a way of using his not inconsiderable skills in other ways.

  Putting the fridge back together was much simpler than taking it apart, thanks to Matthew’s memory (one of the few things which hadn’t deteriorated during his time inside.) The alcohol was looking promising and, slipping two drinks from their ports, he pushed himself to his feet, groaning as he did so. Old bodies, he thought with a sneer. They were useless.

  Bitterness, it seemed, had cultivated into something vicious with nowhere to go.

  A job, then, was the next item on his list.

  Before, he would have had a list of people interested in his expertise and jobs lined up for months. Word of mouth was the best way for a thief to earn a living, but with honest work, it would require a lot of legwork. His phone was a good access point; though some of the websites Matthew found himself on were less than helpful. There were others that would look intriguing, but had a Skills Required section that Matthew couldn’t even charm his way into having.

  Making a list of all the jobs that showed promise, he saved it to a note file on his phone and decided to rest on a better bed than his prison cot was in order. There was also the shower; a luxury that he never thought he’d have the time to really enjoy.

  With the water pounding down over his skull, he tipped his head back, closing his eyes and just relishing the rush of water over his skin. He could let the water run cold if he wanted to, could use as much soap and shampoo as he needed, and feeling clean for what felt like the first time in years was something he couldn’t accurately describe.

  Toweling dry, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window at the darkening city. Lights were flickering on slowly, and Matthew wondered just how out of touch he really was with the world. He had once been pretty adept at changing his methods when a situation called for it, and he liked to think that he was pretty savvy with keeping one step ahead of cops and the like. Being honest was difficult and new, but he had once broken into an unbreakable safe. Impossible was for other people. Not him.

  Tugging on his dirty clothes wasn’t an option, so Matthew cleaned them as best he could in the sink, hanging them up on the heating racks in the bathroom. They would do for another day before he could expand his wardrobe and go on the hunt for a ‘job’.

  Unfortunately, when he started out on his morning quest for a job, it seemed to be the same story all around; nobody wanted to hire an ex-con. It was partly out of Matthew’s own stubbornness. He didn’t want to work for anyone that looked down on him, whether an ex-con or not. When a few looked ready to hire him, but he was given the pitying, or the I’m-doing-you-a-favor looks, he backed out and refused to take them up. The minimum wage was fine, pity and superior attitudes were not.

  Matthew had been stitched up; he was a thief, yes, but he wasn’t a detriment to society or a thug. Matthew worked hard, would work hard for anyone who employed him, and he was allowed to have some self-respect.

  When he retreated to his hotel room, a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand, and a bag of fresh clothes in the other, he dumped them on the small table and stared out of the window. It was, he supposed, going to be a view he would be getting used to. Somehow, he was going to have to work out a way to get by.

  Maybe there was someone out there on his old grapevine that would be willing to employ his services for some job. Looking down at his shaking hand, knuckles that wouldn’t obey him so much anymore, and wrinkles that marred the backs of his hands, he couldn’t imagine they would.

  Matthew couldn’t remember the last time he had looked in a mirror and actually liked what he saw.

  The Chinese was a welcome break from the food he was used to at the prison, and he tucked in with relish. If he had enough left over, he could save it for the next day. Room service would charge him, but he had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

  The VR headset and manual were still on the nightstand where he had left them, so after dinner he grabbed the manual, stretching out on his bed, and turned on his phone. It was easy enough to remember the numbers of some of his old acquaintances. Some pinged back as no receiving numbers, but others went through with no problem.

  Matthew didn’t know what to expect from them; he had been in jail so long that he couldn’t even be sure most of the guys were still in the game, and he could be setting himself up for a fallout, but if that was the case, he would find a way to move on. Somehow, he always did.

  The manual for the VR headset was thick, and though the language was easy to get through, it was still a slog. It would take Matthew a while to read through it, and though he should probably take the time to get familiar with the technology, perhaps it would be worthwhile to just put it on and get the hang of it the old-fashioned way; slow and steady, and by dipping his feet into the actual water.

  The box that the VR headset came in was small, with the same emblazoned advertisement that he had seen in the shop. FEDERATION FUED, though this one had RETRIBUTION written underneath in cursive. Perhaps an earlier edition of the game?

  Flicking through the manual for the instructions on how to setup and run the VR headset was less intimidating than having to get through the whole book. It would be enough for him to get the basics of the game. It seemed a little ridiculous, but there was precious little else for Matthew to do. He had never been a huge watcher of television, and it was rare that he would read a book outside of wanting to learn everything he could about a subject for work.

  Though there was no manual for the game itself, when Matthew checked on the internet, there was an assortment of web pages detailing adventuring guides (whatever one of those
was), leveling guides (that one was a little easier to get a grasp on) and something called a Wiki.

  It was overwhelming. Enough to almost give up on playing the game at all. Almost. RETRIBUTION was apparently the previous version of the game, before its newest incarnation of BATTALION. Apparently, his own version was the one most people preferred, simply because they did not like playing in a mandatory group.

  Matthew scowled down at the web page. Why would anyone want a game where that was mandatory? There had been video games when he was younger, of course, usually, the shoot-‘em-up type games and some of those had allowed multi-players in a team, but not generally making it mandatory.

  The Wiki was apparently an encyclopedia of the game’s options, pathways, and ultimate goals. It was extremely convoluted and involved, and Matthew tried not to look too much. He had always been of the opinion that something worked better if you figured it out for yourself. Something to do with the old adage, teach a man and he’ll fish for a lifetime. He would just have to think of RETRIBUTION as his fish. Teach himself to play the game, and he’d have the hang of it in no time. Have someone show (or tell) him how to do something, and he’d end up clueless at the end of it.

  Booting up the VR headset, he sighed, staring at it. It seemed such a long way from the guy who was sent to prison. But Matthew had always done his best to slide into places few were willing to tread. This would be no different; it would take time to get used to, but that didn’t mean Matthew was going to give up before he’d even started. Resolute, Matthew slid the headset in place. Immediately, he felt something wet against his temple and an electrical surge across his forehead. He reached up for the headset, but he couldn’t tug it off his face.

  Panicked, Matthew could barely comprehend the surroundings around him changing; the hotel room fell away, giving rise to an enclosed metal cube, walls flickering with lights and conduits of energy. It was as if he was inside of a motherboard, the sides of the cube shifting to form the menu of the VR headset itself. There was nothing there, though, just a blank cube. There were no buttons he could press, nothing he could move. When he tried thinking at the headset to turn off, he was started by the INSERT CASSETTE: initiating shut down… that shimmered in front of him. The electrical surge seemed to retract back across his head and the VR headset seemed looser.