“It’s ready!” Rex announced triumphantly, placing his hands on his hips.

  I made a hard blink, resetting my vision to remove the projected typing screen.

  He faced me, thumbing over his shoulder. “You ready to pick?”

  I nodded and stood from the stool, spinning it away a couple feet behind me. On the work bench was a flat object with gridded lines that looked like some kind of hand scanner. Next to it was a metal circle with a glowing light about the size of a dinner plate. I placed my hand on the scanner and immediately saw a new cutscene.

  Choose your class it displayed in massive glowing letters. Underneath was the first option, which was narrated in a pleasant robotic voice.

  Knight Crasher:

  This class is for players looking to take the secret path rather than kicking down the front door. Knight Crasher gives you a +3 boost to Hacking and offers the Breaker ability, which lets you immediately hack all electronics in the Dead Zone and the first floor of each faction tower. The provided weapon is a phaze pistol with laser ammunition that can stun or injure, depending on what the mission calls for.

  ‘That’s going to be hard to turn down,’ I thought. ‘Let’s see the next one.’

  The selection followed my eyes, swiping right to showcase another class.

  Ghost Catcher:

  If you like the largest number of options for each quest, this is it. This class has the Tailor-Made ability, letting you reverse one quest choice per NPC interaction. It also adds +3 to Persuasion, ensuring you get the best deal on items right away. The provided weapon is a pump-action shotgun, with close-range power and armor piercing.

  I scratched my chin. ‘I’ve never seen quest reversal as an in-game ability before. I bet that one has the most bugs.’

  I removed my hand from the scanner and the cutscene disappeared. I’d listen to the final two descriptions after a bit of technical research. I unholstered my debug pistol and raised it over the scanner which projected the four classes. A text box appeared next to each one as I observed it, showing the admin log associated with each class. My assumptions were correct as Ghost Catcher had the largest number of entries needing correction.

  ‘Let’s check the last two out, but I have a feeling they won’t change my mind,’ I surmised, placing my hand back on the scanner.

  Blood Burner:

  Wish you had a decent gun to survive those hounds in the Dead Zone? Here’s your answer. This class gives you a burst rifle with its own projection shield, covering your upper body in firefights. You also receive the Overkill ability, giving you unlimited armor piercing ammo for four seconds if you complete three kills without taking damage. You also get +3 to your Rifleman stat.

  ‘I’m sure it has a cooldown window, but that’s a strong choice if the rest of the enemies are similar to the first.’ I thought. “But I’ve played enough games to know those won’t be the only enemy. I think hacking and dialogue will be more useful long term,’ I concluded, darting my eyes to the final choice.

  Lead Free:

  You get +3 to Dexterity, since you’ll need extra agility to survive with this class. Recommended only for those experienced in hand-to-hand combat, this class starts with a blade glove, giving you unlimited knives. You can use them for close encounters or long-range throwing. You’ll also have them enhanced with the Blade Change ability, letting you add poison, freeze or fire damage to each one.

  ‘This must be for the speed runners. They love beating games with a massive disadvantage,’ I told myself with a smile.

  I understood the allure of finding the hardest path or shortest time to victory. Speed runners were a great way to get your game viral attention and build a dedicated community. Indie devs fought hard to win those fans over, because they stuck with your game for the long haul.

  SensEight deserved a lot of credit for making strong design choices with Omen. I was impressed at how focused each class was. Most open-world RPGs tried to make you Standard McDefault, master of everything. I thought it was bold to present options that had the player actually choose a specific style. In my opinion, you get more replay value that way, since you’ll want to start over and test how other classes affect the quests.

  It was one of the few topics my co-workers knew would rile me up when we chatted over drinks because I truly believed in that design philosophy. Reminiscing about those conversations made me reach for the Founder crest hanging from the chain under my shirt. Most of them claimed my strong opinion came from my religion’s rigor around repeated study, saying it was the actual reason I wanted excuses to play games more than once. I had to admit, I’d been preached to often during my childhood about ensuring my time was focused to build a solid structure underneath me, whether that was spiritually or physically in the material world. However, I believed most gamers agreed with me, regardless of my faith’s influence.

  Shrugging, I accepted the possible connection and chose, Ghost Catcher. In a flash my suit pulsed with pale-blue light as it morphed into different attire.

  ‘It hadn’t told me about what gear I’d start with,’ I realized.

  The light emanating from my clothing dimmed and I saw a sleek suit with pucks on the shoulders and one glowing, rectangular light on my chest.

  “Ahh,” Rex said. “I thought you’d choose Lead Free, considering you were quick enough to evade that pack of cyber-canes earlier. This is a good choice though. That gear has some upgrades which really help with stealth.”

  Turning my hand back and forth, I watched a faint version of the same light from earlier follow my movements.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “That’s part of the armor, not your class,” Rex continued, pointing at my hand. “One of its perks lets you distract enemies with bursts of light, similar to if you threw a flashbang.” He scratched his chest underneath his shirt. “The Knight Crasher has a similar set to start.”

  I blinked to bring up my notation screen and quickly logged a comment about not receiving info on my starting gear. I planned to bring the topic up to Ijimori, in case it was an oversight.

  Rex stood next to me; one eyebrow curled in confusion. “You understand what I said?”

  “Yea,” I replied. “I just needed to take a few notes.”

  He looked puzzled. “You keep them in your head? You’re not typing on anything.”

  I chuckled, realizing the current difficulty meant the game didn’t pause when I took notes or coded. Everything I did was input on my Merge for review later, but of course Rex didn’t know that. This place was its own little world, so I decided to explain it in plain terms. “It’s tech I have. You won’t see it, but I’m adding notes on a computer I carry.”

  Rex shrugged, expression a mix of apathy and disbelief. “Alright, I was worried the ride through the desert might have cooked your brain.” He waved me to follow. “I’ll show you where the bike is.”

  Winding through the collection of vehicles, we reached a section with one hover-bike parked by itself in front of a roll-up bay-door. It looked like a motorcycle, but instead of wheels it had two round circles facing the ground to propel you. On our walk, I’d ran my hand over a few of the vehicles and felt the suit’s gloves create the illusion of touching something real. Removing one glove, I ran my hand over this one and felt actual metal and fiberglass. I was wondering how they’d approach transportation, since the location was such a big part of Omen. You could get away with faking vehicle travel using stationary ones combined with smart projection techniques, but I figured they used real cars and bikes since the entire resort was part of the game.

  “I need you to take that to the Coil’s turf,” Rex said, waving to the bike. “Unlike the Circs, they’re still on friendly terms with me. Once you deliver it, tokens are sent directly to your inventory. And another thing,” he continued, waving a finger, “anyone offering work should pay that way. If they offer actual cash, it could be counterfeit.”

  “Alright,” I said, mounting the hover-bike.

  “Wait,” Rex interjected, rushing over to a shelf piled with random parts. “You’ll want this,” he said, pointing to a helmet.

  I stepped off the bike and approached the shelf, running a gloveless hand over it. It was the real thing, which is why he couldn’t lift it and bring it to me. Placing it over my head, I sat on the bike again as he rolled up the bay door. Flipping the visor down, a map appeared in front of me. It showed a light-purple line that led to a large yellow dot.

  Continue Quest Marker? It read.

  I blinked over the Yes option and the map moved to the top left corner of my visor and zoomed in closer to the line. Pulling on the thruster lightly, the bike lifted a foot off the ground. Turning it more sent me whizzing out of the garage. Following the road, it took me along the perimeter of the Dead Zone with branching turns behind each of the faction towers. I kept my eyes peeled for any signs of Cyber-Canes. This part of the mission would be the perfect time to hit me with another surprise attack.

  After a few more minutes, I reached the path running behind Coil’s looming skyscraper. It was mostly glass like the others, but had orange metal lines built into the side that zig-zagged upward. A single neon bubble of light pulsed while snaking its way along the metal lines in a continuous loop.

  I circled around the building and came to a loading dock with two large roll-up doors. The entry points rested on a raised concrete walkway, meaning it was capable of back-in semi-truck delivery. I parked and took the set of winding stairs next to the loading spots before knocking on the single metal door beside the duo of roll-up ones. A wrinkled face peered through the four-inch-wide vertical glass window.

  “You need something?” the man called through a small intercom beside the door.

  I pushed the red button to reply through the speaker. “I’ve got a delivery from Rex.”

  “He’s never sent you before,” the man replied.

  I shrugged. “He just brought me in, call him if you need confirmation.”

  Considering the tech I’d seen so far, I assumed the people in this game world had cellular devices. My assumptions were proven correct as he pulled a rectangular object from his pocket and began to tap on it. I lost sight of him as he walked away from the window, but I could still hear muttered chatting on the other side. A loud metallic clink rang as the bay door farthest from me began to rise.

  “Where’s it at?” he asked, tone still gruff and untrusting. He remained on the other side of the threshold, giving himself the option to duck behind the wall if I tried anything.

  Half-cloaked in shadow, I noticed he was at least two inches taller than me and nearly twice as wide. I was surprised he still felt the need to hide, considering he just got word from Rex. Then I remembered I had a newly acquired shotgun strapped to my back. Brushing back the hair from my face, I kept a calm demeanor. A seasoned smuggler like this guy wouldn’t trust me if I appeared anxious.

  “I just got here and need some money, so I’m running the bike over for Rex,” I stated evenly, crossing my arms. “It’s parked right there,” I finished, pointing to it.

  The man stepped out slowly, his eyes moving from me to the bike. Or at least what used to be eyes, as he now had cybernetic implants that looked like shortened shotgun shells protruding from his skull. The tan face wielding the implanted eyes had an abundance of heavy wrinkles, making him appear like an oversized pug. This refrigerator of a man was outlined by a black leather coat that reached his knees. He kept his hand inside one of the deep side pockets, likely holding a weapon. He nodded before returning his cold-steel eyes to me.

  “Alright, bring it inside,” he said, slamming a button to lower the freight ramp.

  After loading it into the garage, I kicked the sole of my boot against a small pedal at its side, causing the hover-bike to lower into place and shut down.

  “Here,” the man said, his voice a calm baritone. “Your payment.”

  A screen popped up:

  Quest Complete – 45xp

  A small bar at the bottom of my vision slid halfway up, indicating I was nearly at level two. Another notification told me I’d received 125 tokens.

  “I gave Rex his cut as well,” the man announced, kneeling to inspect his new vehicle.

  “Thanks,” I said, nodding. “Hey…”

  The man looked up.

  “I never caught your name,” I said, extending my hand.

  He kept his socketed eyes on me, and the dark screens at the front showed a squinting appearance.

  He stood, not shaking my hand, choosing to cross his arms instead. “It’s Gabe,” he answered flatly.

  “Great to meet you,” I replied, taking a step back and awkwardly lowering my hand. “I’m Jin by the way.”

  “See you next time Jin,” he said, turning back to the bike.

  “Well…” I started. “That’s the thing. I don’t know if there will be a next time.”

  His head snapped to face me.

  “NO, NO, not like that!” I answered hurriedly, raising both hands. “Rex doesn’t have any more work for me and I needed some. You got anything?”

  Gabe grunted, shaking his head. “If Rex is dumping you, then you’re not good enough for me. Now head out before I quit asking.”

  ‘Shit!’ I thought. ‘I probably lost all his questlines.’

  Then an idea hit me. I activated my HUD, which outlined my vision. It had my life and level bars, along with an ammo count with a logo of my shotgun next to it. Beside that was a button titled: ABILITY. I selected it and new cutscene appeared.

  It showed me conversing with someone before a shootout began, then the scene rewound with static over it before displaying me and the person exchanging money instead.

  “Use the Tailor-Made ability wisely, you only get one extra chance this chat…” The in-game narrator announced as Gabe scrambled backwards around his shop like a video playing in reverse.

  “It’s Gabe,” he said flatly again.

  “I’m Jin,” I said coolly. “I’m going to head back to Rex’s place, is there anything you need me to deliver?”

  Gabe scratched his chin for a moment, then nodded. “Yea, I got something for him over here.”

  ‘Nice,’ I thought, following him to a shelf lined with a smattering of vehicle parts. ‘This class was definitely the right choice.’