The Golden Age: Beyond the Contrails

In the year 199X, before the Infinity Game commenced, there was peace between the two parties occupying the familiar chat room. The pair had just made each other’s acquaintance but seemed to be getting along swimmingly.

“I, like, totally dig this world and all, but it’s missing a little somethin’ somethin’, don’t you think?”

“I think your brain’s missing a lot of something.”

“Bully much? I’m trying to give you some sage-like advice here.”

“I don’t need anyone’s advice about my world,” Akira declared. He was still young then, brimming with the confidence that his talent was all that he needed to create big games. Perhaps many his age would have shared the same sense of invincibility.

“Like, it’s too hammered out, y’know? Give it a little slack. You’re narrowing your playerbase, man.”

“Some slack, huh...?” Akira had been feeling it himself; nearly all of the players were male. Not exactly a healthy MMO environment.

“Real talk, where chicks flock, dudes flock. You dig? That’s what your world’s missing: Whimsy. Room to breathe.”

“Thanks, prof. What’s your genius idea?” Anyone could talk a big game. Akira hated those who didn’t put their money where their mouths were.

But XX sent an unexpected reply: “Magic, Akira.”

Akira froze for a moment. The concept seemed so irreconcilable with the MMO he was running. The Far East City of Chaos took place in the distant future of an alternate Earth. How could magic possibly fit into the post-apocalyptic cyberpunk world?

“Jeez, I knew you were into the occult and black magic crap...”

“Hear me out, will you? First of all...” XX started.

Apparently, the suggestion of including magic in Akira’s MMO was not a spur of the moment idea.

Akira was starting to skim through the messages until he realized how thorough and meticulous XX’s magical theory was. This was hardly a concept of the occult; the theory was as well structured as complex mathematical proofs, almost beautiful.

Soon, Akira found himself being drawn in...

“Class 1 through 10, with all the elements and their elevated forms... It is interesting.”

“Told you. I’ll email you the whole list, so put them all in, all right?”

“Wait, do you know how much work it’ll be to code all of those spells?!”

“Huh? How is that my problem? Isn’t that your job?”

“You don’t even have a job! I hope you wake up bald.”

“What the—?! That’s not funny, man! Not funny at all!”

XXX entered the chat room.

“You two are having a lively conversation as always.”

“Don’t point your finger at me.”

XXX read through the chat log and typed, “Mister Ono, this will take a lot of work. I can help, if you’d like?”

“Help...? Do you have any experience making video games?”

“Somewhat.”

Akira pondered that response, noticeably uneasy with the idea of opening up his world to someone else.

As if Akira’s face was showing through the computer screen, XXX added, “I’ll code and send a few samples first. If you like how they look, you can implement them.”

“All right...” Akira was amazed at how confident XXX was in his abilities and wondered if XXX worked at a video game company.

“And when it comes to combat, Mister Ono, you can lighten the processing load by...”

“Really, I never thought of that...”

The two continued discussing the game’s programming, graphics, servers...

After a while of this, XX began typing unintelligible messages, perhaps in protest.

“Qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnm.”

“You glitching out or something?”

“Ignore it. XX has the maturity of a five-year-old.”

“We have met the enemy... And they are ours!”

“Who are you, Commodore Perry?”

“Ignore it. XX clearly has a mental illness.”

The topic of the chat room was all over the place, but the conversation never ceased.

Even Akira, who often found himself tense with stress, couldn’t help but smile as he tirelessly worked at the keyboard.

“That makes sense, that would lessen the load...”

“I’d be happy to help with that too, or anything else.”

“Oh, right! I hit a milestone on a hit counter!”

Type type type.

The chat room symphony.

“Cool.”

“That’s all you got?!”

“Knowing XX, it was with the help of rapid-firing F5. What a POS.”

“There’s your verdict, XX,” Akira typed. “Your sentence: get a job.”

“More work, more problems... That’s my motto.”

“You’d get a Guinness World Record...for the dumbest human alive.”

The three chatted on and on.

A golden age filled with magic, now so far away.

All pain and troubles melted away like lemon drops beyond the contrails across the sky.