Dinner goes well. After? Not so much!

The sound of satisfied silence reigns through the kitchen. Bolognaise is hella easy, but man does it taste good. All of us are stuffed, patting our bellies with collective smiles. Despite the meal being over, none of us make a move to start with the cleanup, that would require moving after all, and we a far too comfortable for that.

I’m half listening as the girls discuss evening plans. Emily is eagerly asking mum (our resident DM) if her next D&D session is ready to go, but it sounds like it’ll be another couple of days. Kinda a bummer, but I appreciate Dungeon Mastering (or in this case Mistressing) is a lot of work.

I can’t help but grin as Ash says, “that’s ok Mistress, we can wait a couple of days.” To which Mum inevitably turns pink. I chuckle at the running joke, remembering the first time Ash dropped the ‘Dungeon’ part of DM. Mum’s reaction had been truly adorable, so naturally Ash kept doing it. I had tried it once too, but for some reason when I did, Mum turned so crimson you could practically see the steam coming out of her ears and we had to finish the session early.

Mum open’s her mouth, probably about to unleash some witty comeback, but the sound never came. The lack of her response didn’t even register with me, as I had a major distraction of my own to deal with. My view of the table is suddenly blocked as what can only be described as a text box fills my vision. I twist my head this way and that, but the box follows. Hesitantly I reach out a hand, only to gasp as it passes right through, the prompt turning translucent until my hand is removed.

I’m a slightly shaky voice, I ask, “Can… can you guys see this?” I half expect I chorus of ‘see what’s?’ So, when Mum replies slowly with, “I’m not going mad then. Yes, sweety, I see the floaty box too. Girls?” Ash and Emily are quick to reply in the affirmative, both sounding as confused as I feel, but when Lisa replies, there’s genuine distress in her voice. “Have you guys actually read this thing!?!” her panicked tone is deeply distressing. With trepidation, I focus on the box, and words begin to appear.

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Denizens of Earth, the Extradimensional Council regret to inform you of the impending destruction of your home world, planet DW/4/274/512876 (designated ‘Earth’) in three hours’ time. You have two hours to prepare and state your readiness, at which time you, as well as the rest of the population who also complied with these instructions, will be randomly distributed on planets capable of supporting //recipient species// life throughout the multiverse. Please be aware that If more than one individual wishes to evacuate to the same planet, a party will be need to be formed.

The council would like to announce that the population of planet DW/4/274/512876 (designated ‘Earth’) has been granted access to the IRLRPG system, despite its DW designation, to aid in the evacuation and assimilation into new cultures. It is highly recommended that you assimilate with the system before gathering your belongings.

Would you like to assimilate with the IRLRPG system?

(Y/N)

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Holy fuck. I read through the prompt, eyes slowly growing wider as I get further and further through the message. I want to deny the words, but no matter how I try, some subtlety of the prompt won’t allow me to. Somehow, despite never encountering these prompts before, I know deep down that the information presented can never be incorrect or untruthful.

The revelation is staggering. This is real, this is happening. In just three scant hours, earth will be no more. My thoughts slip, beginning an inevitable spiral into black despair. The only thing that stops my descent into pure animalistic panic is a sob to my left. Without really knowing how, I’ve mentally shoved the text box off to the side of my field of view.

A second sob draws my attention to the other end of the table and my heart catches in my throat as I see Emily with her head in her hands, body shaking with the **** of her grief. In a second, I’m off my chair by her side. I grab her hand and draw her up to her feet, then wrap my arms round her, enveloping her in a fierce hug. She tenses up for a couple of seconds, before melting into the hug and burying her face in my chest.

I look round the rest of the table, seeing universal looks of shock and despair. Yes, this is happening, we are about to lose everything we’ve ever known, but inactivity will only guarantee one thing. I realise with a start that someone needs to step up, and looking over the state of the girls, that someone needs to be me.

In what I hope is a steady voice, I say, “I know how much this sucks, but if what this prompt says is true, we need to get moving. There is a way out of this, a fresh start, we just need to take it. We will have time to unpack this all and deal with it later, but for now we all need each other up and functioning. Can you all do that for me?” Shaky nods all round, good.

“The prompt says that we should ‘assimilate the system’, whatever the hell that means. I suggest we start there. Any objections?” Four shaking heads, good. A tentative (and somewhat muffled) voice comes from my chest as Emily asks, “How do we do that?” She’s stopped sobbing which is good, but is still hugging me tightly which is somewhat distracting for two very squishy reasons. I shrug, then say, “Try focusing on the prompt, then thinking ‘yes’.” I follow my own advice and am rather pleased when it works. The old text clears, then is replaced by something new.

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Initializing the IRLRPG system…

Measuring Attributes… complete.

Generating Character Sheet… complete.

Generating HUD… complete.

Assigning inventory space… complete.

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After the last message clears, the prompt disappears entirely from view. Mum, Lisa, Ash and I share confused looks, even Emily is looking up at me owlishly. Then, an uncanny sensation passes through me and, if Emilys shudder is anything to go by, the rest of my family. It’s as if my perception shifts subtly, like changing the viewing mode on a TV. Rather than a sharper picture, however, two bars appear at the bottom left of my field of view. One bar is red, and the other is green. I’ve played more than enough games to know what these are, but I note with mild disappointment the absence of a mana bar to go along with my heath and stamina bars.

A flicking in the top left of my vison catches my attention. A teeny tiny exclamation mark in a little box. A notification? I mentally will it to open, and can’t help the little pleased nose I make when it works and a new prompt fills my vision. Emily shoots me a look, but quickly realises what’s up when my eyes move as if I am reading a message only I can see… because that’s exactly what’s happening.

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You have received a new Quest!

Quest available: Evacuate!

Description: You have been informed that your world is about to be destroyed. Not all is lost, however! An organisation calling themselves ‘The Extradimensional Council’ has offered a method of escape. Whether you accept is up to you!

Objective(s):

• Accept the offer of evacuation at the end of the 2 hours prep (time remaining: 1h56min)

Reward(s):

Rooky adventurer’s starter set (One per party member).

Optional Objective(s):

• Start an adventuring party. (0/1 party formed)

• Reward: Party interface. (Granted upon objective completion).

• Invite your family members to your party. (0/4 party invites accepted)

• Reward: Your family evacuates with you to your new world.

• Fill your inventory with your belongings. (0/30 inventory slots filled)
• Reward: You begin your new life with an inventory full of (hopefully) useful items.

Penalties for failing or rejecting this quest:- The probable **** of you and your family.

Do you accept this quest? (Y/N)

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