Alastair wandered along the path for a while. Other than early morning critters doing their early morning calls to attract mates, it was quiet. Alastair was convinced he saw some deer, at least one fox, and possibly a bear cub. That last had spooked him, and he didn’t know if he had the wherewithal to get mauled to death by a momma bear before the sun rose in the morning. Was he supposed to try to pet other animals? Fortunately, the cub had ignored him and Alastair continued until he saw the monastery rise above him.

  The outer wall looked low and made of substantial ivy-clung stones. Behind them rose several golden-sloped roof buildings atop pristine-looking white walls inlaid with red and wood decorations. As he approached, Alastair realized the walls looked small in comparison to the buildings, which towered in multiple layers. Getting a better look, he realized it had only the faintest comparisons to the city temple.

  As he followed the split in the road toward the monastery, he saw what looked like a double gate. The first reminded him of a Japanese Tori gate, although instead of red had white stanchions extending with a small golden roof. It did nothing to prevent entry. The wall itself was inset and had a larger wooden gate, which looked like it would stop people from coming in. Were the gate closed; which it was not. Such a trusting place.

  Inside the gate, a reasonably sized courtyard spread out amongst a few smaller buildings close up, none taller than the wall. Truthfully, the entire place did not look overly defensible, but perhaps that wasn’t the point. It was decidedly empty, and that was a bit concerning. Surely there should be some activity going on if this place was inhabited. Weren’t the devout known to be early risers? As a mishmash of Eastern and Western architecture, maybe the inhabitants followed a similarly strange conglomerate of practices that made for a confusing monastery. Nothing else in this game makes sense with any single period or place in history.

  Eventually, Alastair heard something like the sounds of a restaurant. He followed them along and was rewarded with the smell of yeast, which grew to the smell of bread and beer. Doors were open to a large cafeteria, and about a dozen people sat around eating fresh bread with butter and drinking fresh beer. It was oddly excellent, and Alastair just took in the smell.

  After a moment, a small hand took Alastair’s elbow and led him to a table. Bread, butter, and beer were placed in front of him. He looked around to his benefactor, who was simply Cleric - 1. Alastair was aware enough to realize no one else was speaking, so he bowed his thanks. The Cleric - 1 had already disappeared, maybe back into the kitchen.

  Eventually, by ones and twos, the others in the hall stood, self-bussed, and disappeared. Alastair finished and followed along with the routine then followed the person in front of him around the yard in a bit of a procession around a few buildings. Everyone seemed to stop at a shrine, where they washed their hands and bowed, then filtered into a large temple where they removed their shoes. Behind a wooden fence, the goddess, carved of stone and gilded, stood before them looking buff and badass. Inside, everyone bowed and waited. Alastair followed suit. It made more sense than the silly dance he had done the first time he had entered a temple of the goddess.

  After a few minutes, Alastair wondered what was going on. No one moved. It was disconcerting. Yep, I’ve found the cult. I won’t be coming back here again, despite that bread. Wow, that was great bread!

  Another moment passed and Alastair started to get up before hearing a small bell chime. He froze. The bell played a small jingle, then dinged eight times. The eighth bell chimed and then Alastair heard people starting to stand. He looked around and the hall emptied pretty quickly. Alastair also stood, and then looked around some more. What now?

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  A brawler walked up to him. Galoots, Brawler-0. She indicated with a head nod that he should follow, and he did. Still uncertain if he should speak, Alastair stayed silent until they returned to the courtyard.

  She turned on him quickly. “Look, you’re a player, right?” She seemed to look above his head and then back at his face, “Nova? I want to get out of here, but this cursed place has me stuck. I think I’m addicted to the beer. Or the bread. Regardless, I don’t get far before I feel the urge to return. And then I drink myself stupid until it’s lights out so that I don’t have to fight that stupid farm fire, and then I repeat the day. You’re the first new thing I’ve seen in weeks. And don’t get me wrong. I’m not looking for a romantic relationship. But I want something different.”

  Alastair made a quick decision that saying less might be better. {A trait which would benefit him normally, of course.}

  Galoots looked him up and down. “Did you agree to the stupid quiet game crap they impose or are you just slow? Although I appreciate how they break their non-speaking vows as soon as the fire breaks out. Fine. Still not going to speak. Go on. Do what you will.”

  She began to walk away.

  “Wait, no. I’m neither vowed nor stupid, just confused about what I’ve gotten myself into here.”

  “Oh,” Galoots tilted her head. “Fair.”

  Another minute went by.

  “Want a tour?”

  “Um, I’d rather just beat this place and return to getting out of the game.”

  “So you don’t have some sort of leash that keeps you attached to the place you started?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. I started at the city this morning, but was at the farms last night.”

  Galoots considered. “So, I might know the monastery better, but you seem to know the island better.” She looked him up and down. “I don’t mean to insult, but can you carry me? I’m concerned I won’t be able to leave the boundaries of the monastery with my condition.” She led him to a small garden by a hen and duck house that had a bench. She sat, so he did too.

  Galoots sighed.

  “This was not the playtest I signed up for. I’m ready to be done with it. Do you like beer? The beer here is great. I know. I drink it daily.”

  “I keep hearing that this is a playtest. How are we so thoroughly stuck in it?”

  “You’ve done the logout, right? And end up just losing time. The terms of service have some stupid stipulation on a rollover server, which this has got to be. But, do you talk programming?”

  “My wife programs. She talks about it sometimes.”

  “So maybe you do. I’m a coder in my day job. And I’ve playtested games before. This situation is messed up. And, I know it could just sound like rhetoric, but I’ve not only read through the terms of service multiple times, because sometimes it’s the only thing to read, but I also followed the release notes of Solar Cell pretty closely. To be fair, and to be fully transparent, my company was attempting to steal some of the code from HSE when I came upon this project. So… and I know this is more corporate subterfuge than coding, but this test wasn’t supposed to exist. I’m not supposed to be here, and I expect you’re not either.”

  “That’s a heavy load of words. I promise you I’m not dense, so get to the point, please.”

  “As much as I appreciate you saying your viewpoint, I’m actually a cutscene. You have to listen to my full text whether you like it or not.”

  Alastair started. “They coded an AI playing a character who is working to actively steal the code from this game into the alpha?”

  “You’ll never know. But I’m glad you’re paying attention.”

  “You’re making it even harder to know what I should believe, is what.”

  “Would it help if I told you I was born in Portugal in 1983?”

  “No. Not at all. I was born on the moon in 1998. I can lie also.”

  “Fine. Don’t trust me. What will it take?”

  Alastair considered. “Like you said, we’re in this stupid game. How do we get out?”

  “I can’t even get out of this instance.”

  “Can you hack the source code?”

  Galoots looked at him like he was an idiot. “So, you’ve gone the idiot route. No, I don’t have access to source code.”