To be divine one must be true, and so it is, even for the OverSoul herself. She demonstrates her grace by being the first to admit imperfection. Even intelligence far outstripping our own-divine consciousness-is limited to the physical world, limited to the tools of the physical universe. And so it is that the Game, the software-based framework that organizes progressive humanity-the shepherd’s staff of the True One-is not perfect. And so it is our responsibility-no, I say our privilege-to aid the OverSoul by fixing the Game when we find flaws and by making improvements where we see opportunity.
I expect that most of you feel elated by this challenge, to serve the Eternal Purpose, which is good. There are others who are elated too, but for a different reason. You think you can fix what is not broken or improve what requires no development, not for the glory of all, but to benefit yourself. Be warned! No player can approach God’s work with an impure heart. She knows you better than you know yourself.
As he walked, D_Light rummaged through his virtual backpack of magical items. There were various potions, a wand for controlling animals, an amulet he used to speak with the dead, and several spellbooks. It wasn’t like the old-school RPG games when you had all your inventory in a virtualized, easy-to-navigate list. In NeverWorld you had to actually find items as though you were in real life.
What a pain, he thought.
At last he found the ebony case he had been looking for, but it took him a minute longer of fiddling with the box before he remembered how to open it without setting off the trap. He peered inside at his most prized magical item. It did not look like much, just a rolled up piece of parchment, yet this scroll contained a very powerful spell. He had been saving it for an emergency, something to save his ass when all else failed.
He took the scroll out of the box and gently slid it into his pocket for quick access.
Master, a sniffer bot is ahead. With a ping, Smorgeous loaded a visual of the bot.
D_Light had instructed Smorgeous to stay well in front, to scout the “real world” with explicit instructions to watch out for bots. Through the visual feed, D_Light watched the disc hovering just inside a wider tunnel.
“Stop, dwarf,” D_Light commanded.
The dwarf let out an exasperated sigh. “Mistress, your beloved escape tunnel is just around this corner.”
“There’s a heavy hitter there. We stop here for now.” D_Light had been so distracted by the appearance of the bot that he used the term “heavy hitter,” modern slang for a powerful nasty. D_Light saw his score pulse red as fifty points were deducted for not using fantaspeech. Smirking at D_Light, the dwarf must have noticed the slip.
The dwarf’s smirk persisted. “Verily I say unto you, mistress, you appear a fine specimen of your race. Perchance when this is all over, you and I-”
“Quiet, I’m trying to think,” D_Light interrupted.
“Besides, dwarf, I should think your taste runs more to the short and portly.”
Through Smorgeous’s visual, D_Light watched the bot long enough to decide it was not going to move. Covering the exits, D_Light thought. Not particularly creative, but a good move nevertheless.
After a long pause, D_Light asked, “This is the Corrupted Lands, correct?”
The dwarf gave him an exasperated look as though he were the biggest nOOb in NeverWorld. “Uh, yes mistress.”
“And it is the domain of Queen Pheobah and her abomination of a son, Salem?”
The dwarf winced and ducked down as though cowering. “We don’t say…We don’t say those names out loud! You could draw their attention,” the dwarf hissed. He then threw up his hands and whispered, “My gods, just let me go before you get me killed! I took you to the tunnel.”
“Soon, just have to get past this last nasty. Then, by gods, I’ll give you the gold my shieldmaiden carries. A user of magic such as myself far prefers magic over gold anyway.”
The dwarf did not look entirely convinced, but he held his tongue.
“Queen Pheobah…she is a demigod, then? Or merely a powerful devil?”
The dwarf took a step closer and whispered, “She is the undisputed ruler of the entire Corrupted Lands! Her son, the spawn of fear and hate, is even more sadistic than she.”
“Powerful then? You have met the pair?”
“Met them? Of course not! No mortal adventurer has set eyes on them and lived to tell the tale!” The dwarf ran his finger across his throat. “Please, mistress, can we move on?”
D_Light sighed to himself as he lifted out of his pocket the scroll of the powerful gateway spell. He looked over at Lily, who stood expressionless next to him, and muttered under his breath, “You owe me one.”
To release the spell, he unrolled the parchment and spoke the arcane word scrawled at the top. He then named the being to which he wished to open a gate. “Queen Pheobah of the Corrupted Lands,” he bellowed. The parchment was consumed in a fiery flash. A deep boom echoed and the ground shook while an enormous, blue, semitransparent oval gate spread out before them.
“What have you done?” the frantic dwarf shouted in disbelief.
Although Queen Pheobah, Mistress of the Corrupted and Demigoddess of Evil, was merely a software agent running in the larger NeverWorld software program, she did not know this.
Now, she lay perfectly still, staring straight up through the vastness of her high-domed ceiling. It was pure darkness in the queen’s lair, but nothing could be hidden from her ancient eyes. The only true darkness for the queen was in her own mind, dark corners she strove to forget. Memories of happier days. Fair memories tortured her far more than the parasites that had long ago infested her body, although such worms showed no evidence of their intrusion as her terrible beauty grew with every passing season.
Her son, Salem, was nearby, spinning out his eternity of time with ever-decaying pleasures. Prolific torture and feasting on the innocent had long since grown old for him. The closest thing to pleasant distraction he could muster now was to corrupt. He smirked and whispered to himself as he watched his prey through his great mirror. A little boy, a human one no older than seven, cried himself to sleep. A week ago, Salem had visited this little boy and had given him a present, a great red ruby. He told the boy to give it to someone. The unlucky recipient of the gem was then devoured by Salem that very night, and the gem was returned to the boy, who was to give it to another the very next day. If the boy ever failed to give the gem away, Salem would devour his parents. It was a self-perpetuating plan of torture that was designed to be fail-proof.
The queen, on the other hand, wished she could feel and see nothing, to cease to exist, but that was not possible for a goddess such as herself. She desperately wanted to shut off all her senses, but when she scratched out her eyes, she could still see. And her eyes grew back anyway, more luminous and haunting than ever.
To be alone in her lair was the closest thing to relief that she could find. Alone, except for that cursed son of hers of whom she could not rid herself. She fed off his wickedness, a kind of power that sickened her even as she partook of it. But if she did not partake, she would receive instead a great hunger, a hunger of such heightened torment that even a god with an eternal will such as hers would do anything to sate it.
Imagine then what Pheobah, Queen of the Corrupted and Mother of Abomination, thought when a portal opened in her lair, right on the ground next to her outstretched porcelain feet. And on the other side of that portal was a mortal woman, clad in witch’s garb, peering in with an idiotic grin on her face.
The queen pondered what could be going on. Some rival deity laying a trap? No, she could not sense any other presence of any significance; only the stench of the human and her kind wafted through the portal.
Never mind, she thought. If this insect went to the trouble of barging in on me uninvited, she must have something foolish to say. I will receive her, and by the time she has finished blathering and begging for some favor, I will have had time to think up a proper place in hell to send her.
The queen’s son was already standing beside her and also looking very unhappy about the intrusion. Pheobah saw in his eyes that he was about to obliterate the mortal, but she put up her hand to stop him. She then walked through the portal.
D_Light was impressed with how NeverWorld rendered Queen Pheobah. His optic nerves were nearly overloaded with input as the radiant goddess stepped into the chamber. The text of his heads-up display said, You
