The Forerunner Initiative – Stub only

Remember, the world ends on a Tuesday. An especially cold and dreary Tuesday. June 25, 2024. At 6:12 pm, Pacific Standard Time, if you want to be precise.

But that’s the end of the story.

Let’s start from the beginning.

Tuesday, June 27, 2023, 3:35 pm.

A burst of static from the old TV above my papa’s bed draws me back to the present. Standing, I give his hand a squeeze. Much as I might want to, can’t spend too much time with papa today. Sides, I’d already told him about my week before I started daydreaming.

“Bye papa, wake up soon,” I say, in what has become my ritual parting gesture as I lean forward and kiss his forehead. I don’t really expect him to wake. Not after a decade spent in a coma.

I wave to the nurse at the front desk as I leave, pulling out my phone. The sky is light, only a thin mist covering the street as I check my balance. My pay went through. For the first time ever, there’s more than three-thousand dollars in my account. Barely enough for Sab and I to start looking for our own place. But enough, none the less.

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I nod to the security guard at the attached parking garage as I shuffle past. I pause at the bus-stop, but when the bus pulls up and I see how many people are packed in, I step back, as though waiting for the next. After waiting for the bus to pull away, I start my trek home. It’s only a forty-five-minute walk anyway.

Halfway home, as I’m passing another bus station, I notice the next bus looks mostly empty. I pull myself in, using the support bars, careful not to bump anyone as I move to the back, near the exit. I get lost in picturing what our apartment might look like. I’d… have a corner. Yeah. And we’d have a table, covered with dice and character sheets and... my corner would have all my custom magic stuff. And Sab would laugh at me as I told her again how the books get it all wrong. But she’d allow my custom rules, and I wouldn’t have to worry about mom. And we’d binge movies every weekend, crashing on the super comfy couch we stole from her dad’s garage.

When the bus rumbles up to my stop, I almost miss it. Raising my hand in silent apology to the guy blocking the exit as I try to squeeze past without bumping him, I stumble onto the sidewalk.

The mist from earlier has subsided, and once the bus pulls away, I find myself almost skipping towards the apartment. When I realize it, I stop, flushing in embarrassment and glance around to make sure no one I know saw me.

Thankfully the area is empty as I ascend the two steps to wrestle with the ancient lock that keeps our building secure.

“Even from its residents,” I grumble as I jostle my key for several long seconds before leaning against the door and getting it to click open.

Once inside, I march up the stairs, a single glance at the elevator telling me it’s broken. Again. I don’t blame our landlord. George does what he can. He always keeps the halls clean. And I’m pretty sure we’ve got the only coinless laundry room on the block.

Arriving on the third floor, I lean against the wall, taking deep breaths. I… should really get more exercise. As I look back down the stairs, I curse as I realize I forgot the mail.

Moving to our apartment, I glance across the hall when I think I hear movement from our neighbour Josh’s apartment. Then, before he can come out and find me staring, I hustle into our apartment. Leading me to knock over a coat stand that wasn’t there when I left for work that morning.

It smacks into my elbow, causing a massive clatter as it falls.

Wincing, I proceed to pick everything up. Luckily, Josh doesn’t seem to have noticed.

Gritting my teeth, I move into the apartment. On the table are the remains of a paper mâché mask… Moving to the bathroom, my hand clenches when I see the open cupboard. Mom’s used a dozen rolls of toilet paper in a single night.

Sighing, I close the door. I can't manage a smidge of surprise. Instead of the peaceful evening I’d planned, looking through apartments with Sab, it looks like I'm going shopping. Well, since I'm going anyway, I might as well put together a list.

As I'm inspecting the expiration date on a tub of sour cream, I knock the shelf loose.

Looking at the containers of spilled salad, half-eaten Chinese food and the tub of sour cream that started it all, I shake my head then start cleaning.

Today is not going as planned.

After I finish scrubbing the tiles, I decide that since I've already started cleaning, I might as well finish the rest of the kitchen. By the time I'm done, our kitchen is spotless. The sort of spotless you see in soap commercials. Unfortunately, I also discover mom didn't just use up our toilet paper.

She's also cleared out most of our pantry. Surprise donation drive, no doubt. Well, a surprise for me.

Throughout my efforts, there's no sign of mom. Which isn't surprising. Strike like a hurricane then disappearing to leave me to deal with the wreckage has kind of become her modus operandi. Which is why it's past time I get my own place. I love her, but… it shouldn’t be my job to always clean up after her. And Sab thinks it’ll be good for us.

Still, it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. Throwing on my rain-jacket, cause this is Vancouver, I start on my quest for groceries and the all-mighty teepee. I’m a little shocked when I step out into the sun, but just smile at the small bit of good fortune.

The shopping goes smoothly as I vent to Sab over text about mom’s latest disturbance. I’m making to pay when another disaster strikes. My card is declined.

This… this shouldn't be happening. But when I check my phone, it indicates my money was transferred out.

Two hours ago.

At some point when I was still cleaning the kitchen, all my money disappeared.

My eye twitches as I stare at the grand total of three dollars and fourteen cents. After texting Sab to update her, I call my bank. But I'm given the run around by the automated voice system. Cause why would it know where my money went. After half an hour on hold, I still haven’t reached a live person, which means there are no answers forthcoming.

At this point, I realize I'm standing around the grocery store making a fool of myself. Since I'm not making any progress, I leave. Sans tee-pee.

The cashier put my groceries back anyway.

I’d been planning to take a taxi home, but now that I don't have groceries, I’ll just walk.

Of course, while I've been engaging my digital arch-nemesis, hold music, rain’s rolled in.

I'm not a stranger to rain, I live in Vancouver. It's a temperate rainforest, we know rain. But our rain is often a haze or light sprinkle, with an occasional day of non-stop downpour thrown in to keep it interesting. Unpleasant, but not…

Lightning crashes overhead, causing me to wince. The rain I'm staring into is heavy enough I can’t see my hand in front of my face. Still, I'm not about to stand around the grocery store until it lets up, so I march home. My big rubber boots splash through streams that didn't exist an hour ago. With every step, my mind keeps spinning. But I get no closer to answering the question that’s taken it over; where's my money? Did I get scammed? Was it that nice lady I gave that donation cheque to at the clinic last week?

Once I make it to my apartment building, it takes me twice as long as usual to get the key to work. I'm so glad to get out of the rain that I make it halfway to the stairs before remembering the mail.

Turning around I see my neighbour Josh, come out of the laundry hall. He has his trademark black trench coat tented over his large frame. I always try to say something to Josh whenever I see him. You know, cause it’s important to be nice to your neighbours. “Hi, Josh. Quite the downpour out there today, don’t you think?”

He turns to me, then looks back outside before replying, “Yeah.”

I cringe at his terse response, watching as he steps outside. Shaking my head at my obvious statement, I move over to the bank of mail-slots, tracing my finger over the surface until I reach number 302. I open it, expecting to find our usual junk mail, but quietly hoping for a letter from my Norwegian pen pal, Preban.

Instead of the plain white envelope that would indicate his letter, I see a dark brown one. It has embossed green vines running along the sides. Whoever sent this letter was feeling fancy. They even sealed it with dark green wax using an elaborate tree stamp.

I would've thought the letter was in the wrong mailbox if not for the fact that someone took the time to write, in exquisite penmanship, “Alexis Wyonna Everette.” It's not very often I see my full name. Other than my parents, not many people know my middle name. Maybe my dad's mom, mami?

This letter kinda reminds me of fancy letters mom used to get. The ones telling her she’d won a prize. All she had to do was mail in the generous registration fee. I wish I could say mom saw right through those scams and never sent a red cent, but that's not really mom.

She did stop getting those letters a few years ago. More accurately, I started throwing them away before she saw them. Eventually, they stopped showing up.

Those letters are why my first instinct is to throw this one away, but there's something about it that stops me. I consider it for a moment. The envelope is just so elegant, I want to see what's inside, even if it's another scam.

Plus, it's addressed to me. I don't get a lot of mail.

As I reach to open the letter, a big wet plop, from my still thoroughly soaked raincoat, reminds me that if I'm going to keep it intact, I should probably dry off first.

Looking at the stairs, I decide to risk it.

With letter in hand, I set off for my apartment, my mind going back to my missing money. Once I recover from my second ascension today, I throw the letter on the table, and call my bank again, hoping to find out why my account is empty.

As I wait, I pull out my sketchpad, and start jotting down some of my latest ideas for runes, based on the rain. Could I have a water-mage who used pressurized jets? That’d be cool. Halfway through the sketch, I realize I’ve started doing that thing again. I’ve drawn out a pair of brown eyes, rimmed in blue. Frowning, I crumple up the paper and start again. After another two hours on hold, I finally get to speak to a living breathing person.

However, the unapologetic rep simply tells me the other member transferred the money out of my joint account, before asking if there's anything else they can help me with. And when I say no, they request that I rate their performance.

You really don't want me to do that right now bud…

I give him five stars.

Hanging up the phone I get up from our big brown couch where I've spent the last couple hours before storming towards mom's bedroom.

Joint account.

I should’ve known better, but I honestly forgot it was a shared account. I couldn't have been older than ten when mom took me in to set it up. It's not like she'd ever used it, so it’d effectively been my account since. But there’d never been more than ten dollars in the account until the last six months, so why would she?

But for the last year, I've been saving. Ever since we graduated from high school, I've been putting money away. I’d… I’d had enough…

Now…

I just wanted to be free…

I'm reaching for the handle to her room when suddenly my strength leaves me.

My legs collapse, the tears escaping. It's not just the money. It's knowing that I've been betrayed, yet I'm the one who should've known better. I cry for at least half an hour, tears of frustration and self-recrimination pouring freely.

I know three thousand isn’t that much, not really, but it's all I had. And it represented hope. And freedom. And it was proof I could take care of myself. And now it's all gone.

This never would’ve happened if papa was awake.

Fighting against the crushing weight of my limbs, I push myself up, resolved to make something to eat. Hunger will only make it worse.

Digging through our little kitchenette, I quickly discover that all we have left is some slightly wilted lettuce, an almost empty box of rice, and the ever-present mustard. It's impossible to run out of mustard.

Even after the world ends, there'll still be mustard.

Sighing, I make myself a mustard-flavoured salad. I don’t use the rice. It's going to have to last us almost two weeks. Which reminds me that I was just paid.

Damnit mom. Couldn't you have emptied my account a few days ago. Our utilities are due in a couple days. Le sigh.

At least putting those off shouldn't be a problem. Just have to… put off saving anything next month. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get an advance from my Jonno. My boss is usually pretty understanding. And George… he’ll understand.

I know I'm not getting my money back. It’s been hours since mom took it out of my account.

Or, I guess, our account. I give it even odds that she's gambling it all at the casino or giving it away to needy kids in Africa.

Who probably have more rice than we do, I lament while staring at the box on the counter. I really hope she donated it. Least then it'll do some good even as she brags about it on social media.

Booting up my ancient laptop, one I bought years ago through our local ThinkGeek, I decide to check my email. I'm staying off social media though, cause there's a high chance I’ll see mom bragging about where she spent my money.

I can’t handle that. Not right now.

Email's safe though. She never uses email.

I have a couple of email alerts from my gaming and hobby websites, an email from Sab_733N, plus a second email that managed to make it into my main inbox. A quick check of the email address [email protected] convinces me it's spam.

Quickly, hitting delete on the spam, I reply to Sab, ranting about my mother. Again. Not that even this’ll surprise her. She's heard all my stories about mom. Been around for a few herself too. I then spend an hour browsing through the aforementioned websites trying to distract myself.

Unfortunately, even reading about alternate rulesets for magic systems isn’t enough to keep me distracted. To be fair, I was never much for using others’ systems. I’d been creating my own magic designs since Sab first introduced me to tabletop gaming.

So, I start executing my earlier plan. I start by emailing my boss at the mill to ask about that advance. I also shoot off an email to my aunt Sharon, just in case. I don’t tell her what happened, just letting her know there was ‘an unfortunate banking incident’.

Next, I'm going to need my own account, so I check my bank’s website to see about opening a solo account.

There isn’t enough in my current account, but hopefully with an advance, I’ll be okay. As I'm browsing the bank’s site, my trusty laptop decides it's time for a system update. No warning, just a sudden reboot.

It really is one of those days.

Sighing, I go to open the website on my cell phone. As the screen turns on, I see that I have a text from an unknown contact. The words “Hello Alexis, it’s” are as far as I get before a thought occurs to me. It's probably mom on a new cell phone.

So, I ignore it.

And by 'ignore it', I mean I throw my phone across the room.

It's an amazing shot.

My phone hits the wall, sliding down until it wobbles on the windowsill.

Then, it continues its journey, bouncing off the couch, narrowly missing the old picture of me, mom, papa, and his dear friend Mr Thompson, on the nearby end table. The one from days before the ugly tree incident. Of course, Mr Thompson has been cut off. But I can still feel his eyes on me if I look at the picture for too long.

My phone doesn't care about any of that, continuing to slide across the coffee table while dancing past my half-empty tea mugs, mom's beauty magazines and the fancy letter with grace no phone should show.

Right as it's about to go over the edge of the table to drop into our leak bucket, (that bucket everyone in our building has, you know, to catch water from a leaky ceiling or mop up the bathroom) it stops.

It totters on the edge of the table, over the, currently very full, bucket of water.

Careful not to bump the table as I move forward, I rescue my phone from its near demise right as another drop falls, plopping on the back of my hand.

Phone saved; I flop down on the couch in relief.

That would’ve been all my fault, I admit to myself.

Deciding that I can’t risk interaction with electronics, I start thinking about offline distractions.

I already cleaned our place before going for groceries.

I could read one of my old books, but I've been through them all recently.

With the heavy rain, going to the library doesn't seem worth it.

Then my eyes drift down to the letter. Even if it isn’t anything interesting, I can doodle on the back or edges like I do with our junk mail.

Pulling myself off the couch, I run to my room and grab my backup chocolate bar, ready to return to the living room. After doffing my bra and changing into my kitten onesie.

It’s comfort time.

Settling on the couch, I pull the letter out, inspecting it. I run my fingers over the ridges created by the embossed edges, feeling a little thrill when I break the wax.

Every part of this envelope screams quality. There's a return address which says Unit 17, 3205 Theodore Drive, but there's no name. Opening the letter, I admire the elegant script, which is much better than the chaotic mess I call writing. Then I start to read.

To our dearest Alexis,

Congratulations, on being selected for the Forerunner Initiative. Thank you for your patience as we prepare for your integration.

As you were informed during your initial application, the Forerunner Initiative has a long history of helping new civilizations adapt to the brutal realities that come with a System Inclusion event. As a Forerunner, you have been granted an all-expense-paid trip to the Akilo training centre. In the training centre, you will receive advanced Forerunner training, unlock unique Forerunner equipment, and learn as much as we can teach you about the changes coming to your world.

Every journey begins with a single step.

The Pantheon System Integration Team.

1. S. Please see your email for a reminder of the terms and conditions. See you in Akilo.

…

Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Oh. My. God.

This is my acceptance letter to an alpha test I applied for nearly a year ago. The Forerunner Initiative is supposed to be this amazingly immersive role-playing game being made by a local developer. I'd heard they were only approving a handful of applicants for the first year, so I'm amazed I made the cut.

They must have some major funding too. This is the fanciest acceptance letter I’ve ever seen. And the letter isn't the only fancy thing in the envelope.

Attached, I find a detailed map with a contoured surface that doesn’t just show the geography but lets me feel it. Each texture is distinct. I run my hand across mountains, hills and forests which are pointy, bumpy, and fuzzy in turn.

It's not a local map, so it's probably a map of the game world. Chuckling at finally receiving some good news, I pull out my chocolate and take a bite.

I can’t help but contemplate what system the game might run on. They’ve been quiet about the mechanics, but I know there's going to be magic of some kind. I've always loved magic, ever since I was little. I even used to run around pretending I was a wizard, just like a certain muggle-born.

Though my 'spells' were always a little more elemental in nature. Hehe.

Checking my phone on reflex, I see the text from the unknown number is still showing. Now that I've calmed down a little, I decide to read its contents.

As I read it, I see it isn't even from mom. It’s from the PSI team. I’d caught the first few words earlier, but obviously I stopped reading when I threw my phone.

Considering it now, I realize they really don’t want me to miss this program. They've sent the same message as in the letter, but with a link at the bottom. Clicking the link takes me to a map. This map is mostly the same but is less textured than the paper one.

As I stretch out, I wonder why neither the text nor the letter mention a download link or login code. Maybe they’re going to send it later?

Glancing at my laptop, I see that it's still locked in reboot paralysis.

I wonder if that spam mail was related. I’ll have to wait until my laptop finishes to check. Excited as I am about the game, the reality of how broke I am kicks in. I’d been counting on some of that money to pay for a new computer after I moved out.

Specifically to run games like Forerunner.

Now I don’t know when I’ll be online. I doubt my potato is going to be up to running their super immersive experience. It'd probably bog down just trying to process something as detailed as this map. I might have to recruit Sab. Which I'm sure she'll be down for.

Yawning, I settle onto the couch, running my hand along the map.

The more I look at it, the more it feels like I'm there, surveying the world from above. The detail is amazing. The western snowcapped mountains practically send chills down my spine when I touch them.

I swear the river running down from those mountains is sparkling as if it was bathed in sunlight.

The sparkling river meanders east, passing out of the lumpy foothills covered in fuzzy trees, before flowing into the vast Akilo ocean.

North of the river, the soft yellow plains are covered with flowing grass. Inspecting the map more closely, I see the grasslands north of the river continue until the map cuts off.

To the south of the river, the rolling foothills stretch all the way from the mountains to the ocean, covered by a thick forest. Like the plains to the north, the map doesn't show an end to the forest.

But just south of the river, near where it enters the ocean, is a clearing.

The clearing is clearly ringed by a set of standing stones. There are four clearly marked stones, one pointing in each cardinal direction. Looking at them, it almost appears as though the cardinal stones are glowing. The lesser stones are neither glowing nor as large. They're more like markers. On the entire map, the stones are the only sign of civilization I can see.

I wonder what it'll be like to adventure in such a place. Untouched by humans, a whole new world to discover. A place where I’ll be the first to set foot. They claim the game will be unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, but everyone knows how common marketing like that is.

Still, I'm excited to be one of the first.

As I inspect the fine details of the map, my eyes keep being drawn to the standing stones. If I’m going to be playing in this region, I'm sure that'll be my starting location.

The longer I stare, the clearer it all becomes. As I’m inspecting some runes carved into the southernmost stone, I can't help but feel like they're familiar. Even as the thought occurs to me, I find my mouth opening in a long yawn, my focus immediately shattered.

Drifting off to sleep, my eyes grow heavier. Even as I slip off, I remain fixated on the map, the runes on the south pillar filling my mind as all other thoughts are brushed away.

The warm morning sun shines down on me, waking me with its brilliant rays. My eyelids feel heavy as I blink sleep from them. Did I fall asleep on the couch again?

Hmm, nope, the couch doesn’t smell like fresh loam or scratch my nose like that.

Taking in my surroundings once my eyes adjust to the light, I figure out where I am. Not that I believe it. I’m in the middle of the standing stones. Right where I figured I was going to start in-game, I can even see the mountains rising to the west.

“What the hell?” I mutter.

Did I start playing the game then forget everything that led up to this point? Pretty sure I would’ve remembered logging in or going to the training centre.

To make sure this isn’t a dream, I pinch myself. Wincing at the pain, I rub the soreness of my overenthusiastic pinch away while thinking. Whatever’s happening, it seems real enough.

Okay, if I'm in a game, there should be a way to exit, right? But I don’t remember entering the game. The last thing I remember was… looking at the map?

I start searching for the map in the nearby grass. Maybe it'll have a clue. The immediate area around me is empty but as I'm searching, I hear a rustling noise. Turning, I see other people laying in the grass.

I count three forms, none of whom have risen yet. The rustling is coming from a smaller dark shape that is shifting back and forth. It seems like they're trying to get comfortable.

Okay, so at least I’m not alone. Standing up, I search around the clearing again. I still don't see the map.

Other than my three companions, there doesn't appear to be anything but the grass within the circle. I do notice the grass inside the stones is greener than the grass outside them.

I don't mean it's greener on the other side greener. The grass outside is yellowed and drying, but the grass inside is fresh and alive.

The next thing I realize is that I know what time it is. Not by charting the stars or gauging the sun or anything like that. I have a literal sense of time. It feels similar to my sense of balance. I know it's 6:03 am, on the 28th day of the year 2023, when I make this discovery.

And isn't this all just crazy.

Seriously, who gets up at six in the am.

This pretty much settles it in my mind. I’m definitely in the game. It’s already interacting with me, but if it's a game there should be more. An interface of some sort. Preferably a way to log out.

Maybe a character sheet.

So, I start doing what any reasonable gamer in my situation would do. I start calling out words while moving my arms back and forth. Quietly. Because there are people sleeping over there so waking them would be rude. It's only six in the morning after all.

"Exit. Logout. Disconnect. Status. Menu. Options." I whisper to the air hoping to see something appear. "Character. Inventory. Escape." I continue, starting to feel disappointed.

I really hope this isn't one of those, "feel your way through it" games. If so, I might have to find an actual exit to log out.

I'm wracking my brain, trying to think of other words I could use, when I feel a growing pressure building behind my eyes. Thanks to my time sense, I intuitively know that the pressure will finish whatever it’s doing in seven seconds.

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