Codename: Freedom: Survive Week One

  Apollos Thorne

  Survive Week One

  Book One of the

  Codename: Freedom

  Saga

  Copyright © 2017 by Apollos Thorne

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  To my wife,

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  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 – Interviews

  Chapter 2 – Letter

  Chapter 3 – Tutorial

  Chapter 4 – Logging In

  Chapter 5 – Hunting with Kline

  Chapter 6 – Ruin

  Chapter 7 – Aftermath

  Chapter 8 – Recovery

  Chapter 9 – Ambushed by Questions?

  Chapter 10 – This City is Ours

  Chapter 11 – Gearing Up

  Chapter 12 – Do You Hear That?

  Chapter 13 – Overwhelmed

  Chapter 14 – Long Night

  Chapter 15 – Finally Some Action

  Chapter 16 – The Hunt

  Chapter 17 – Preparation

  Chapter 18 – Flee

  Chapter 19 – Lost and Found

  Chapter 20 – Inspiration

  Chapter 21 – Unleashed

  Chapter 22 – Final Confrontation

  Chapter 23 – Check Point

  Chapter 24 – Moving On

  Ability Point Upgrades

  Character Sheet

  Pet

  Prologue

  March 7, 2387

  If you are receiving this, then I am in prison or dead. Who am I kidding? This is as much a confession as a fail-safe to make sure the truth gets out.

  My name is Otto Konig, Sr. Director of Game Development for Codename: Freedom. I was offered a contract with the United States government to develop the most realistic virtual reality (VR) world ever conceived. Ultimately, with the help of a great team and many long years, we were successful in creating a machine with the potential of producing the finest super soldiers in human history. Strength and speed are just a foundation. What mankind is capable of goes far beyond what most deem possible; what I believed possible. There are incredible and terrifying things our government has hidden from the public eye, but that is not what I am writing to discuss.

  I’m not naïve. War with the trans-humans is coming. I knew creating the perfect soldier was the mission when I signed on. But there is something else I have discovered. Among the participants that are selected from our best athletes and VR gamers, there are also criminals.

  I have had little problem tracking down who these criminals were once I knew what to look for. What I discovered has caused me to question my entire purpose for taking this job. Someone high up in the government, who I have yet to be able to flush out, has hand-selected hundreds of criminals to participate in the experiment. These aren’t just normal criminals, but the kind with many consecutive life sentences. It’s hard to imagine a worse scenario.

  The participants in Codename: Freedom will be under no governing body except the ones that they create. They will have absolute freedom to commit the most perverse atrocities mankind is capable of. Thank God murder is not among them. The game system won’t allow participants to die. Instead, we have inadvertently created the perfect torture device. Whoever is stuck in Freedom with these violent men will find themselves unable to die and only able to escape if they can find the strength to fight back. Not only will we create superior soldiers, but we will take some of the world’s most violent men and make them incredibly powerful.

  I will continue to seek out whoever is responsible and hopefully put a stop to it before it comes to fruition. My personal AI (artificial intelligence) will alert all major media in ten different countries if anything happens to me.

  I hope I’m not too late.

  Dr. Otto Konig, Sr.

  Director of Game Development

  Chapter 1 – Interviews

  “What kind of company makes you show up in person for an interview?” St3alth said, continuing our conversation as we teleported into the arena.

  A quick scan of the arena told me this was a medium size, square shaped room, with a stone pathway around the perimeter. Dirt paths led down from the elevated perimeter to cross in the middle of the room, with a large open area and a dirt floor.

  “Something about tests that can’t be done virtually. It’s not like our personal AI keep records of our DNA or anything.” Chewme said, oozing sarcasm. “Lucius. When are you up?”

  “I’m interviewing for Codename: Freedom this morning. In the vehicle now. Will be gaming with you guys until Destiny gets close enough to drop me off.” I answered, standing there decked out in epic items: a green leather jacket, with a mythalloy chain shirt underneath and my demon spine rapier on my belt. Everything I wore looked rather bland in comparison to most max level items. It was by design. Why advertise strength? I still wore a flashy green mythalloy Crescent Helm that collected my sweat-soaked brown hair like a magnet. What can I say? The stats were worth it. Our guild symbol, three diamonds interwoven with each other, currently embroidered the chest of my jacket.

  The comfortable breeze that always greeted new participants to the arena never got old. Such a small detail had become a treat that I had been experiencing daily for just over two years now. I would miss the rush that accompanied it if I was selected for Codename: Freedom.

  All three of us stood at the top of a path leading down. Sticking to the manmade walkways would be best. Heavy overgrown foliage made it impossible to see from one path to the other once you left the stone perimeter. I didn’t even want to try wading through it.

  “St3alth. Stick high and we will go low?” I asked.

  He had already gone invisible. An ethereal shadow-cloak rippled behind him as it flapped in the non-existent wind. There was very little air flow in this arena, but items like his cloak were self-animated for the sake of style. He didn’t share my philosophy on style.

  The rest of him was just as transparent, only visible to Chewme and me because we were in his group. His mask was pitch leather, fully covering his face except for his mouth. Midnight’s Kiss, a knife formed from obsidian ice, was held flat against his cheek as he pretended to ponder my question.

  “Really, Lucius? Like you will wait for me? You are too focused on gaining fans. Didn’t your AI teach you how to share?”

  “Must I teach you a lesson about complaining?” Destiny, my AI, replied, projecting her voice into the group chat channel that was translated into text. She was currently running my gaming system, as well as directing my car. She had no physical body, but was in my head, literally. Or more accurately, my MR (mixed reality) gear, or headset.

  A boisterous chuckle came from the large man to my left.

  “Jealous?” Chewme asked.

  Flashing towards St3alth’s head, a claymore stopped an inch from his skull.

  Crossing his arms, St3alth dared Chewme to proceed.

  Although he only stood about my height, I’d be lucky if my thigh was as thick as Chewme’s arm. With chopped blond hair and a strong jaw, he wa
s our smiley melee brute. Donning a fur cloak over Mythsidian Mail, a glassy black steel chain-linked armor, he was constantly sparring with the assassin.

  With a shift from his shoulder, the claymore tapped the assassin on the head twice. “Just be ready. It’s not our fault if you’re slow.”

  St3alth lunged forward, knife aimed at his throat.

  Chewme’s eyes went wide.

  The knife stopped before it reached the skin.

  Eyes still wide, Chewme pulled the sword in and tapped St3alth on the head once again.

  I choked down a laugh.

  “You see him,” Destiny confirmed.

  Spotting movement of a player moving down the opposite path to the arena floor, I took the initiative and left them to their foolishness. “By the way, would you two kindly back me up? I’m moving in.”

  There was no longer any sign of the players that had been at the other end of the arena. That could mean many things, but there was a precaution that had to be taken.

  “Possible assassin. Stay back. I’ll be the bait.” I group messaged them so I wouldn’t be audible to others.

  Glancing quickly across the bottom of my peripheral vision was an ethereal status bar that kept me updated on our current stats.

  Viewers

  15,019 Total Viewers

  9,475 Guild Viewers

  5,544 Group Viewers

  2,433 Lucius’s Followers Viewing

  Lucius’s Fame

  Rank 674 of 263,653,741 Players

  Sadly Gravel didn’t show us how many viewers were watching our opponents. Their popularity might give away how good they were.

  “Focus, Lucius.” Destiny chided.

  “Yes, dear.”

  I could feel Destiny’s eyes roll as opposed to seeing them. Normally having her appear in a small window at the edge of my vision let me better communicate with her, but now was not the time for that. We had a job to do.

  St3alth wasn’t wrong about my concern for gaining fans. To be a pro you had to do more than play it smart. To be great you had to put on a show. As ridiculous as we acted, all three of us knew what had to be done. Our audience awaited us.

  To the assassin, I would look like a delightfully easy target. My rapier was strapped at my waist, fastened over a loose-fitting jacket. I fit somewhere between a mage or a monk with a sword. My cool-green sleeves were rolled up, showing abnormally large forearms for a magic user. There was no visible armor or magic shield. Yet I walked toward the known threat with assured defiance.

  Reaching the bottom of the path I stopped when I reached the center and let him come to me. Closing my eyes, there was only one sense that would help me now.

  This group that we faced wouldn’t be here if they didn’t qualify as better than good. We were in the legendary class, the highest tier in the arena with only the top 10,000 ranked guilds. There was no chance this assassin would be a pushover or have any less than max level gear. My rarely used Spell-Sword profession gave me an advantage. He would underestimate me. They always did—the first time.

  Chewme and St3althL0rd were sitting tight, waiting on the assassin to make his move. We all understood our places in this fight from thousands of similar encounters.

  There was only one direction where the sound came unnaturally. The subtle brushing of a boot against dirt, an odd leaf softly crunched underfoot, and only the smallest of twigs snapping. The sound slowly shifted around me in a wide 20-meter perimeter.

  Opening my eyes, they didn’t shift but remained forward. Sound was all that existed. It could be said that my approach was a gamble. That it was possible to hear someone approaching, but it was insane to depend upon it when your life was on the line.

  The feeling of fear and nervousness had long ago been trained out of me with only anticipation remaining as the invisible assassin stalked me. No assassin would attack me from the front. The flank and rear were too tempting.

  To the left came a soft step as he began to close in.

  I didn’t flinch from the realization.

  He was not just good, but exceptional. By this time even the best assassins would either have rushed in because they thought I was easy prey or have fled because I was acting odd. He stalked me with patience, not succumbing to his own nerves.

  Fifteen feet. His pace slowed.

  Destiny and I had practiced this same situation a thousand times. It was up to me. She insisted I had ears. Not to use them was idiotic.

  Ten. He stopped and awaited any reaction I might have.

  At this distance, there were a number of skills that could help him close in quickly. If he activated any of them I would only have a split second to react. After a long number of seconds, he stepped forward.

  Five. I was now in danger of not being able to react quickly enough to his assassin specialty skills. The danger was there, but I had faced this situation before. I knew it intimately.

  My anticipation grew. I felt he was a step away from driving his deadly knife into my ribs.

  Appearing out of stealth, he was behind me, slightly to my left.

  The whole time I had been gathering mana in my gut. With a simple exhalation of breath, all of the pressure that had built up let loose. I didn’t direct it. Like a bomb the mana converted into pure force as it left my body, creating a wave of magic erupting in all directions.

  His knife shot forward. The assassin was swept hard by the force. Flying back, he cleared over 10 feet of ground.

  Throwing out my hand, I cast a grand-master level force field just before he landed. His body accordioned in midair as his skull collided against the invisible wall. His neck snapped.

  Bowing my head, I honored him, as well as played to the viewers.

  I withdrew the force field. It was a huge mana sink, but when mastered the use for force fields went far beyond defense.

  “You left your force field active two-tenths of a second longer than necessary wasting 40 mana,” Destiny stated.

  A blur of motion shot toward me. My rapier was out and flicking the arrow aside before it found my chest.

  “One archer,” I called.

  “One mage,” Chewme added, storming down the path, joining me at the center of the arena.

  Crimson fire hurled our way before I saw the player who had cast it.

  Turning his shoulder, the bolt easily missed my friend.

  Using the foliage to our advantage, we split up, standing to either side of the path they would have to take to join us on the arena floor. Even with their advantage in elevation, they couldn’t see through the greenery. The mage might decide to burn us out, but it would take a while to get a fire started and cost him a lot of mana.

  An arrow landed close to where I stood, hinting that the archer had moved down the path to get a better angle.

  Chewme noticed as well. “Rush?”

  “Give them a moment. I want to get an idea how brave or stupid they are.”

  When no more arrows or mage bolts came, I peeked around the corner. The archer unleashed an arrow that I easily pulled back from.

  “Three left.” Destiny informed us. “They have a battle ax wielder in full platemail. Be ready.”

  “I got him,” Chewme replied.

  “I’m behind them at the top of the path. Ready when you are!” St3alth said.

  Daring another look, I saw their armored tank bounding our way. Both the mage and archer were a good ten feet behind, ready to attack as soon as either of us engaged. It was a good basic strategy.

  Looking to my friend, a nod set him off.

  We both rushed forward. I lunged at their tank, my sword doing little against his polished breastplate.

  Chewme took full advantage of the split second I had bought him. His sword tore the wind from below, knocking the warrior back two paces. I had already rushed past, leaving the tank to him.

  An arrow engulfed in blue light and a fire bolt launched toward me at the same time from a distance that was impossible to dodge. With my empty hand stretched forward
, my force field appeared momentarily deflecting the projectiles.

  “Better. A tenth of a second too long,” Destiny said.

  The mage retreated, but the archer managed to unsheathe a short sword to engage me.

  Jabbing at the archer's head, I cast an ice bolt of my own, impacting the archer’s foot. It was a low-level spell. Most of the spells of a spell-sword were about the same low rank, but it was enough to stagger him to his knees.

  The mage was about to leave my short range, so I cast force field once again. He ran face first into a small wall of energy about the size of a dining plate.

  My neck tensed at just the thought of how it felt. A tank would have just shrugged it off, but casters were fun to mess with.

  St3alth decided to join us. Becoming visible behind the magic user, he slashed him across the neck, then stabbed him in the back in one fluid motion. For all St3alth’s complaining, it was rare that he wasn’t exactly where he needed to be.

  Too bad they didn’t save the assassin for later. It may have been a closer fight.

  The archer began to regain his footing. His eyes were locked on me. Without his bow, his class skills would be limited.

  I bowed slightly, with a flourish from my sword, urging him to stand.

  St3alth just stood back and watched as Chewme and I handled the remaining two players.

  With his short sword in one hand and bow in the other, he stabbed at my waist, holding his bow up for extra cover. He was well practiced.

  I stepped back, his sword just missing, and another ice bolt flew from my hand at his face. He twisted wildly, placing his bow between him and the bolt. Impressive agility.

  Thrusting down, my blade pierced between the string and shaft of his bow, jabbing his thigh. Jumping back, I severed the bowstring with a flick.

  Who could help but smile? I could almost feel new subscribers joining my gaming channel. If I entertained them enough, many benefits would follow. More followers meant more sponsors. Those not watching now would watch today's highlights later. Some followers would even donate money. Enough followers and I could attract one of the big sponsors and get a full ride to game for a living. That was the goal and my high school career was almost over.