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LOCATION: BLACKWELL MUNITIONS HQ
CITY: SYSTEM-GENERATED HUNTSVILLE, ALABAMA
DATE: ??? | TIME: ???
Gideon Blackwell accepted the Special Challenge, and found himself standing in his own office in Huntsville.
Blackwell Munitions was one of the most successful arms manufacturers in the United States. With backlogs of contracts from the US and its allies all over the world, the Alabama factory operated three shifts, seven days a week, 362 days a year.
Any time Gideon appeared for an interview on television or print, he spoke constantly about the 2,400 jobs his business provides, and how proud he was to support that many families in the region.
But the truth was darker.
Much darker.
Standing there in his office, all alone, and still sore from hundreds of deaths he'd experienced over the past ten days, Gideon had to be honest.
At least with himself.
It wasn't even about the money.
Once you have enough, it just becomes a dick-measuring contest with other wealthy people.
And it wasn't even about power.
Not exactly, anyway.
No, if Gideon was to be completely honest, it was about superiority. The dark side of power.
He loved nothing more than the knowledge he could crush just about anyone under his thumb. He thrived on it.
Surrounded himself with those weaker than himself so he could wrap himself in a blanket of arrogance.
Take Rourke "Razor" Maddox for example. The man was an Australian Commando, who led teams into some of the darkest places on Earth and came back victorious.
But a simple paycheck was enough to make him follow Gideon around like a guard dog.
Sure, it was a huge paycheck. But what was money to a man like Blackwell? Currency was meant to be used, not hoarded.
As Gideon stood near his desk reflecting, a soft knock sounded on his heavy wooden door.
He cleared his throat.
"Come in."
His assistant inched the door open and peeked her head inside. Gideon could see how nervous she was.
Was she always this way?
"Sir, your uh… two o'clock appointment is here. Should I send him in?"
Her voice shook ever so slightly as she spoke.
He looked her in the eye.
"Yes, thank you. You can go ahead and take the rest of the day off. You've been working hard lately, and you deserve it."
The look of surprise on her face wasn't lost on Gideon. She thanked him and bowed back out of the room.
Gideon's heart warmed just a bit.
What an interesting feeling…
A moment later, another knock sounded before the door swung open.
A man dressed in an impeccably tailored suit entered. He crossed the room and shook Gideon's hand, making intense eye contact.
Wait…
Fuck. I remember this meeting.
"Anatoly," Gideon said, "please have a seat."
He turned to the bar behind him. He crouched down and opened the freezer, removing a bottle of Beluga vodka and two crystal shot glasses.
Frost began forming on them immediately as he set the glasses on the desk in between him and his guest.
Gideon poured two shots and set the bottle down.
He raised his glass.
"За прочность! (Za prochnost!) To strength!"
They toasted and swallowed the cold liquor.
Gideon exhaled as he settled into his chair.
"Anatoly, I have had a change of heart. I'd like to pay you double to forget about this plan and this meeting."
"What? My men are already in position. They are restless and itching for action."
Gideon sighed. Of course it wasn't going to be this easy.
"What would it take to call them off?"
A sinister look crossed Anatoly's face.
"I don't care about the manufacturing sites. We want Maddox and his men. They've caused us too much trouble to just let them go for a sum of money."
"Anatoly, please. How long have we known each other?"
Anatoly scoffed.
"Not long enough to release a blood debt, I'm afraid. The debt must be paid, Gideon. If it's not Maddox, then it must be you. Choose. You have 24 hours."
The Russian man stood, nodded solemnly, and turned to leave.
As his hand rested on the brushed silver doorknob, he spoke once more.
"We only took the job because it was a chance to kill Rourke Maddox. If you triple the payment, we'll leave the rest of his team alive. That's my final offer."
He turned his head to the side.
"If you refuse, I hope your affairs are in order, my old friend. Nobody can stop what's coming for you now."
He opened the door and left.
The sound of the office door clicking softly shut wasn't enough to dissipate the words that still hung heavy in the office space.
"What have I done?" Gideon muttered, falling back into his leather chair.
He poured one more shot of vodka and drank it down.
Gideon remembered this day. It was August 18th. The day after the Rejuvenex announcement.
He remembered feeling angry.
Why was he angry? He hated the idea that all of humanity would be allowed to live forever. It was something he could not abide.
Sitting in this space, at the very desk where he hatched his nefarious plan to deny the world something so great, Gideon could feel the blackness in his soul.
But now that darkness felt almost foreign. Like he was outside looking in, observing it but not a part of it.
The hellscape where he'd spent the past ten days had definitely begun to change him.
"Maybe this System has something to teach me after all," he muttered.
He turned toward the window. Mid-August in Alabama was a beautiful time of year. The humidity of the hot summer had already bled off, and was replaced by a soft warmth that just soothed the soul.
He made up his mind. There was no need to wait 23 more hours.
Gideon picked up his phone and called Anatoly.
"I've made my decision," he said.
"What is it?"
"My affairs are in order," Gideon said. "If our years of friendship mean anything to you, make it look like an accident so my family can at least collect the life insurance."
"It will be done. With this, the blood debt owed will be paid. Goodbye, my old friend."
The line went dead, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Gideon Blackwell smiled. A genuine smile. It was a novelty for him.
At that moment, a new notification appeared.
---
System Message
Gideon Blackwell
You have changed the trajectory of events through your decision.
[Scenario: Nightmare of the Deep] has been adjusted to meet new parameters.
---
The world went dark around him again, and moments later, Gideon woke in his bedroom on the Isle of Light.
This time, the windows were intact. There were no bloodstains on the sheets. Rain still poured outside, but it was the soft tropical rain that was a more regular occurrence in that part of the world.
He flipped back the sheets and noticed he had on leather armor now. Like a rogue in video games, he thought.
On the dresser, he found two beautiful and deadly daggers. They were curved slightly, and he realized they fit perfectly into sheaths on either side of his belt.
---
System Message
Gideon Blackwell
Your choices have led to adjustments.
[Scenario: Isle of Darkness]
You must defend yourself and others against threats.
This scenario will test your resolve.
Defeat will return you to the beginning, and you must start again.
Countdown: 00:9:59
You may bring up a progress screen anytime by thinking "Progress."
---
"Here we go," Gideon said.
He quickly checked the rooms of his mansion, and after finding them empty, he ran at full speed toward the gazebo.
When he arrived, he was surprised to see the 21 others he'd started with.
They looked rough. Gideon rounded them together.
"You guys look like you've been through a lot. Let's huddle up and make a plan."