⬣//GROWING WILDLY OUT OF CONTROL.
September 23rd—conference day. In the hours preceding the meeting, beta testers are supplied with information on how to access the virtual conference room and offered a set of conduct guidelines. Testers are urged to read them thoroughly and instructed to sign their name on the bottom of the page to confirm that they’ve read and understand the following guidelines:
1. All questions will be addressed. Do not interrupt speakers or other beta testers when they are asking questions or having their questions answered.Players are generously allowed one hour to filter in and find their seats, review the guidelines, and discuss the questions they’ve prepared with their fellow beta testers.
2. Conduct yourself professionally and appropriately. Do not curse, shout, or otherwise engage in disruptive behavior. Violators will be muted and their speaking privileges revoked.
3. No eating or drinking. Keep your virtual space clean and free of debris.
4. Remain seated. Excessive movement or inappropriate behavior will result in restriction of your avatar’s movements.
5. PvP is disabled in the conference room. Weapons cannot be drawn and your Fragment inventory is unavailable during the duration of the conference.
One hour comes and goes. The room remains occupied only by the beta participants, CyberConnect Corporation’s flashy logo spinning idly on the conference room’s 80 inch display. Restlessness begins to settle in, idle chatter turning to frustration as one hour becomes two. Still, no one from the Corporation shows.
The conference room remains devoid of purpose, some forty-odd people sitting alone in a sterile conference room, a locked room, should anyone grow so restless they try to leave. Any attempts made to break doors and windows will fail.
The door is locked, as are the windows, the world beyond their stark white blinds a slurry of purple and black. Thunder crackles in that dark, endless void. Even if you could leave, where would you go?
It’s painfully evident after three hours of silence that no one from CyberConnect is showing up to the conference, but you knew that already, didn’t you? This mandatory meeting was fishy from the start, some would argue, while others may yet hold out hope.
That ends the instant anyone tries to log out and leave. Everyone who attempts to leave will be met with the same error Shoka was some weeks ago, but this time, the error is permanent. This time, there is no connection between mind and body anymore, and any attempt to “reach” your real self will fail.
You feel no one on the other end. You no longer feel the weight of your headset on your head or the keyboard beneath your fingertips. All your worldly aches and pains have drifted away only to find you here in your new reality, every sensation so real that Fragment no longer feels like just a game. Fragment is reality.
Three hours pass from the start of the conference. The boring white walls and rickety office chairs shudder and shake and give way to the Mac Anu everyone knows. You’re back where you started, more or less. What you do from here is up to you.
Some menus remain online. Players retain the ability to send and receive friend and party requests, access their inventories, spells, and weapons, and so on, but a few notable items are missing.
Players can no longer toggle their pain sensors on and off. Every blow you take is one you’re forced to suffer through, and what’s more, your health no longer automatically regenerates when idle. You’d better keep a stash of potions or a pocket healer handy.
While you’re at it, try not to die. The sharp-eyed among the group may notice that the respawn information nestled in the menus is no longer accessible to them. The respawn counter now reads as a series of zeros instead of the typical 20 minutes. Now is probably not the best time to continue testing Fragment’s death mechanics, but nothing’s stopping you from trying. No one’s going to save you, either.
Good luck, players. The real test has begun.

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It was exam season for me.
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[ would he have let himself get kicked out if he’d known all this would happen? hm. on the one hand free computer, on the other hand no computer. HMM ]
The controls are okay. Kinda like baseball. Aim and swing, aim and swing.
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Dehya's targeting him to check his stats.] Tribal Grappler, huh? I don't know a lot about that class. You play baseball?
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[ kids get that one hobby they're obsessed with and they think it's FOR LIFE ]
You play?
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Anyway--I know a level 1 dungeon doesn't seem like much but can I come with you. I'll hold back and only step in if you're having trouble.
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Ice hockey? I haven't seen a lot of people play that. What's it like?
[ oh, dungeons again. ]
Sure, if you don't mind. But you don't have to, if you have other things you need to do.
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[Productive!! It's the only thing she can do about all of this right now.] There's the option to randomize it, or I can plug in one I've run before.
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Resourceful… You must’ve been the captain or something, right?
[ and he shrugs at everything else. he doesn’t mind whatever. seems like she’d know best anyway ]
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[ is she another player? he doesn't know so many people... ]
Oh, uh... it says, "Immovable Aster's Weed Eater." Weed... Eater?
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The name has her pause.] Weed eater? Huh... I don't think I've heard what's in that one yet. Let's see what it is.
[The very important party join, and then they're off to the area.
It's desert.]
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So… do you usually bring a bottle of water just in case you get something like this? Or does it not matter?
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[ he pulls out his weapons, apparently shitty lightweight gloves ]
Let’s do this.
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But she gives him an affirmative nod. True to her word, she'll let Deto take the lead in dealing with the first round of monsters once they find them. She's here to support in case he's overwhelmed, gathering any low level materials along the way.]