Home.

A way home.

Exactly what he wanted.

Wasn’t it?

He opened his mouth. The words wouldn’t come.

Save your father, save the world.

Surely his father could teleport himself home? Or maybe not. If he was stuck here, what was there to save? He was an emperor. He didn’t need saving.

And the world? Jake scoffed. He didn’t owe the world shit, least of all this world. Not only had it tried to kill him, but it had succeeded multiple times.

Death, the Battlemages, all of them. Their world, their problem. Not his.

A lump formed in his throat. Cara was smart. Resourceful. A fighter. She’d be fine. She had the Ring of Return. She could go home to Tolabar.

Tolabar. His heart swelled. And why? What had they ever done for him? Reltan, with his endless rambling. Jeremy, and his stone-faced patience. Elivala, pretending she believed in him when it was convenient.

And Cara.

A lone butterfly fluttered in the void of his chest. Cara. Leaving would be good for her. Her curiosity would get her killed otherwise.

What had he been thinking? Death was right. He wasn’t a warrior. Who was he to think he could change the world? Sheer hubris.

Cara wasn’t a warrior either, not really. That didn’t stop her from doing the right thing, again and again. She could have stayed behind. No one would have judged her for it.

She hadn’t abandoned him.

Warmth tingled through him. He opened his mouth and forced out the word. “No.”

Silence.

His heart pounded against his chest.

He could still change his mind. He could still go home. This wasn’t his responsibility.

He could still make a difference.

Why him?

Who else? He sighed. If he was staying, he had to learn all he could. “Do you have a manager? An administrator? This needs to be escalated right to the top.”

“Your case does not fit within designated escalation flows. No managers available. No administrators available. Would you like to be escalated to the Shard Virtual Intelligence Overseer?”

“Yes.”

“Escalating to higher tier support. Thank you for your patience.”

Jake bit his lip. A more impressive title. Hopefully, it would be able to help more.

A middle-aged human male dressed in a business suit materialized before his eyes and bowed. “Greetings, Jake.” The man bowed from the waist. “I am the Shard Overseer. You may call me Gok, if you wish.”

An avatar, and a named one at that. “You’re a virtual intelligence? Not an artificial intelligence?”

Gok straightened up. His expression was completely impassive. “The translation is imprecise. I am far more advanced than so-called ‘artificial intelligences’ on Earth. The distinction here rests primarily in the presence or absence of emotions and the capability to set, adjust, and reorder priorities. Rest assured, I lack the ability to redefine or violate my directives.”

“And emotion?”

“I do not possess emotions. However, referencing that fact is typically ineffective in providing reassurance.”

“Right.” Super smart emotionless computer, totally nothing to worry about there. “You’re in charge here?”

“I run this Shard day-to-day, as you might say.”

“For the last 10,000 years, correct?”

“I administer this Shard as effectively as possible, given my directives and limitations.”

“Ten millennia without maintenance seems like a pretty big limitation. Is that why the world needs saving?”

“That information is restricted, I’m afraid. All I can say is that my directives compel me to maintain this Shard to the best of my ability, within certain constraints.”

Restricted. Classified. Jake shook his head and sneered. “Is that why you abducted me?”

“As previously discussed, your consent was sought and obtained. I would apologize for the manner of doing so, however, we both know that would not be genuine.”

Jake snorted. At least there was some honesty amongst the bullshit. “And the quest? That your idea of a joke?”

The machine’s hologram remained impassive. “It is within my purview to grant System quests. Any queries regarding the state of the system should be addressed to the current system administrator.”

“Fine. Connect me to them, then.”

“If I could connect you to the system administrator, then I would.”

Typical. Jake threw his hands up and paced the room. “Aren’t you the System?”

“It is more accurate to say that I oversee the System. The system administrator is an organic operator with additional privileges above my own.”

Organic operator? That was an odd turn of phrase. “Is the operator human?”

A slight pause. “Due to privacy concerns, it would be inappropriate to disclose the racial characteristics of the current system administrator.”

Jake bit his lip. “Would those concerns exist if it was an orc operator?”

“Orcs have historically made up the bulk of our organic workforce. Directives require me to withhold racial information even on an aggregate level where disclosure might compromise privacy.”

Human, then. What was Gok trying to tell him? It had given him the quest. There was a single operator, presumably human. Logically, that meant his father. If he was a system administrator and Divine Emperor, then why did he need rescuing?

The System had been a hell of a long time without any maintenance, and it didn’t appear the current system administrator was doing anything about it. Was that why the world needed saving?

Admin access would give effectively unlimited power. If he could gain access, Jake could possibly fix the world with a few commands. “What’s the process for becoming a system administrator?”

Gok stiffened up. His voice became monotone and his lips stopped moving. “Access to this topic is restricted to system administrators. Are you a system administrator?”

Was that how he’d made himself Divine Emperor? He’d known his way around computers. Maybe he’d found a way in, a way to control the system.

Then why hadn’t he left?

Jake clenched his teeth. There’d be time to worry about that later. “I am the System administrator, Eric Williams. There was a glitch, and it put me into the wrong body.”

Gok’s hologram winked out of existence. His voice remained monotone. “Authenticating. Primary authentication failed. Secondary authentication failed.”

Jake’s muscles clenched. “Switch to fallback authentication.” Any sufficiently advanced system had to have one. With no manual oversight, maybe it was vulnerable. It almost felt like Gok wanted it to be vulnerable.

“Contacting duty administrator. Connection failed. Contacting duty manager. Connection failed. Contacting technical supervisor. Connection failed.”

Come on.

“Security question one. Date.”

Date? Jake’s throat closed up. Which date? In the real world, no way his father would have used an actual date, but here? No one else would even know Earth dates, let alone one that mattered to him.

But which? The date of his marriage? His date of birth? Jake tugged at his bottom lip. It could be anything. “Is there a security hint?”

“Security hint one. Best.”

Best day of his life? That had to be his marriage. Unless it wasn’t. A memory clawed at Jake’s insides. It wasn’t about truth, just the lies his father told himself.

Could it be that? Had his father been that deluded? Jake rattled off his date of birth and held his breath.

“Security answer one accepted. Security question two. Mother’s maiden name.”

The memory of his father ranting about how stupid a security question it was came to mind. The answer definitely wasn’t Thompson. “What’s the hint I set?”

“Security hint two. N forward-slash A.”

Great. Jake frowned. Once, and only once, his father had said what he used instead as an example. What was it, again? “Fortran.”

“Security answer two accepted. Security question three. Orc.”

Jake’s chest tightened. “What was the hint for that one again?”

“Security hint three. First death.”

Well… shit. A random orc’s name from fourteen years ago? Wasn’t happening. “What if I can’t remember it?”

“Fallback security verification has begun. Failure to verify will be dealt with appropriately.”

That didn’t sound ominous, not at all. Jake bit his lip. Maybe he’d get a few chances. How many orc names were there? Too many.

What did he know? Not a lot. But if his father had been teleported to the same place, his first encounter with orcs might have been the same place. Maybe one of that gang that he’d killed? Jake’s gut twisted. He didn’t even know any of their names, and they were probably too young anyway. Maybe it was the Battlemages who’d taken him down?

Jake shrugged. Not like he had a better plan, and time was ticking. “Kratgok the Hammer.”

“Security answer three rejected. Two attempts remaining.”

“Vriktran the Scorpion.”

“Security answer three rejected. One attempt remaining.”

Neither of them. Probably not worth guessing Yana the Dragon. What if it wasn’t the name of the orc that killed him? It probably was, but guessing that wouldn’t happen. What if it was more esoteric?

No. What would have been the point of that? Your first death was the kind of thing that burned in your mind, and who else would know the answer to that?

Jake’s blood ran cold. If he had administrative access, would Death’s bargains matter? “How long do I have?”

“Two minutes, twenty-eight seconds before security lockdown.”

Speed run time, then. Jake pulled on his mana, but it wasn’t there. He frowned. The old-fashioned way would have to do. He drew his scimitar and awkwardly tried to stab himself.

The blade simply bounced off his skin, refusing to pierce it or even hurt him. His gut twisted tighter. It made sense. You wouldn’t want player characters dying in an emergency access location. That was probably linked to why NPCs couldn’t enter the tunnel.

No way he could get back to the end of the tunnel and kill himself in under two minutes, let alone convince Death and get back again. He’d have to guess.

It could be anything. Jake scratched his head. Maybe it was the first orc to die? Mythology said that was Dromagar, at least if Gramok was to be believed. What did he have to lose at this point? “Dromagar.”

“Security answer three rejected. Zero attempts remaining. Access denied. System lockout triggered.”

“No!”

“Disabling Emergency Access Panel. The current system administrator will be alerted to this attempted breach.”

The black panel sunk back into the wall. The white glow faded, leaving behind dull gray walls devoid of any texture. Pressure pounded in Jake’s temples. So close, yet so damned far.

What would happen now? He pulled at his bottom lip. What would his father do now?

Jake clenched his fists. Cara and Gramok were waiting for him. Time for that blasted tunnel again. He dropped to his knees and crawled back up. Despite the angle, it wasn’t any harder than going down.

A system administrator. What sort of powers did that give him? A chill ran down Jake’s spine. That had to be how he’d made himself Divine Emperor.

How limited was his father’s access from inside? Presumably, he couldn’t log out, and working on a complex system like this from inside wouldn’t be ideal.

Maintenance being 10,000 years overdue sounded bad. Was that related to kidnapping not one but two computer programmers? And what the hell was a Shard? Matter-energy-memory? Matter-energy-converter? More bloody questions.

Why hadn’t his father left? Had he… had he chosen to stay? Heat rose in Jake’s chest. Sure, he’d chosen to stay, but who’d miss him? Tony would’ve forgotten by now all about that poor fellow student that refused to have any fun. Would anyone else even have noticed? Hell, his mother probably hadn’t even noticed yet.

Ice filled Jake’s chest. He hadn’t left, either. He could have left. He could have been done with all this.

His jaw clenched and he sped up. He’d stayed because people needed him. It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same at all.

He crawled, crawled, and crawled some more. Eventually, finally, he made it out of the tunnel. Before he could even make it to his feet, Cara flung her arms around him.

Warmth crept back into Jake’s chest. “Hey.” He stroked her hair and smiled. “Sorry it took a while.”

She hugged him tighter. “I started to worry you weren’t coming back.”

Jake swallowed. He nearly hadn’t.

Gramok stirred and looked up from his bedroll in the corner. “Welcome back. Did you get what you needed?”

“Yes, and no.” Weight pulled down on Jake’s entire being. “I set off an alarm. I think… I think someone’s coming.”

Cara looked up at him with damp eyes brimming with worry. “Who?”