The Far Plane

Once more, we thank you all for the years we’ve had, and hope this final week is the send-off The Far Plane and you players deserve. Here’s to future adventures! - Natasha Kane, Project Lead on ‘Amissa Mundo’

I stared at the headline in a paralyzing mix of nostalgia, sadness and shock. It had of course been years since I played The Far Plane, and almost as long since I’d heard news about it. But on top of the shock I felt toward this happening was the shock of who delivered this news.

Abby looked from me to both the others, waiting for some reaction. She had taken off in the middle of math and apparently this was why. Tobias and Darien looked like how I felt. Tobias was the first of us to speak though. “Fuuuuck… Dude, that blows! They can’t shut down TFP! That’s, like, the original Dive! I mean, sure, I haven’t played it in years, but… I mean, shit!”

It was quite the blow. Amissa Mundo was a long running franchise of games set in the same world crafted by Panacea Softworks. In 2029, they had taken the next big step that took not just gaming, but the whole technological world by storm: Fully immersive virtual reality. The concept of “Dive VR”, or VR that allowed you to really feel being in a different world, had seemed like an unobtainable fantasy. But then we were there.

I got into it at 14, since my parents were always pretty trusting. Besides, it wasn’t as if I had had any friends outside of games. But in The Far Plane, I found people I could really mesh with. And they found me. For the next two years, me and these three got really close through our shared adventures in the game, when we would have probably never talked otherwise.

Tobias was, as he put it, overly emotional. He found it hard to keep things contained, and had a habit of blowing up at people. He tried to isolate himself at first because of it. Darien was just quiet. I think he may have had some serious anxiety, but in the game it melted away. He was someone entirely new, someone no one could judge. And Abby… She was something else. We were all nerds and losers, and had at first thought we couldn’t handle even talking to girls. Not to mention Abby was a great athlete, both a track and field star and a gymnast. Somehow, she found time for video games alongside all that. Without that shared interest, we never would have been able to say a word to her.

But this was our senior year. We’d all been swamped prepping for college, working to save up, and in general preparing for the future. I had almost stopped gaming altogether. Worst of all though was that none of us have really talked much, and things fell apart. We still waved to each other and smiled, shared complaints at lunch. But no more laughing about our escapades, no more meet-ups at cafes, no more group movie nights. I had felt like a regular kid, with regular friends. Now I was the loner all over again. I guess that was my flaw. Without their insistence we be friends, I wouldn’t have really had any. I didn’t normally have the drive or confidence.

I didn’t stick around after that news. It just reminded me even further how our best years were really ending. It seemed more and more I’d inevitably leave my friends behind. I arrived home early, and kicked the late January snow from my boots. I couldn’t get the thought of the game out of my head though. To think, after all these years, The Far Plane would shut down. They were having one last week, starting today, where anyone could play everything for free. Not that it really mattered to me, as I had avidly bought everything the game had released.

At least, I thought it didn’t matter. But when I got to my room, I tossed my backpack aside and slipped into my desk chair. From the drawer to my right, I took out the headset. Sleek, a nice dark blue, and layered thinly with dust. I took care of that before setting it on the desk. It was genuinely disheartening to think that a world I loved so much would be erased from existence. I wasn’t sure if seeing it again would be sad or comforting. But apparently my subconscious had decided. I quickly opened the launcher on my desktop, and slid the headset over my eyes.

“Launcher open. Please press down on link buttons to confirm play.”

My hands found the buttons over both my temples easily. I didn’t hesitate as I pressed them.

“Confirming. Please state “Launch game” to continue.”

I forgot about this. They had to put in a few confirmation steps to make sure no one accidentally fell into the game. A concern raised in the early days. Most programs using this didn’t do any of it anymore. It was actually kind of funny.

“Launch game.”

The text disappeared. For a second, all I could see was the menu background, with the same news headline Abby had showed us in class. I don’t remember what happened exactly, but I blinked and was in the character shrine. I instinctively took a step back from the jaws of the great stone dragon in the center of the room. White and yellow brickwork made up the impressive structure, and I looked over the area.

I half laughed, half groaned as I walked over to two characters stood to my right. One was tall, muscle-bound, and smiling arrogantly. His greatsword was hefted over his shoulder and his garish blue cape was frozen mid dramatic flow. The first character I had made, and the one I had first beat the story with. He… Um…. What was his name?

“Holy shit… Shows how much of an impression you left.” Still, it was nice to see him again. Then I turned to the second. Oh dear… This was the one I feared most. My edgy phase. You know, the one where you don’t have anything profound or important to say, but think you’re the most tortured individual in the whole damn world? Or maybe only I had that… Still, necromancy had been fun, and some of my evil grins had truthfully been ones of joy. Creitic Undying had been an interesting addition to my party.

But there was another character. The one I had truthfully spent the most time in-game as. The one on the other side of the temple, where hopefully any prying parent or sibling wouldn’t look. I stepped around the dragon and gave her a look.

This one I knew well. Nameya. The little elven ranger. Well, they were all elves. Or… What were they called in the game? Arlathani, that was it. All players were Arlathani, and all NPCs were just human. Nameya was a bit of everything, my jack of all trades. She was also the one whose character was most developed, and I role-played as her a lot. And yes, she was a she.

I still don’t know why I chose to be Nameya. The armors in The Far Plane were actually almost all practical. At least the normal ones were. Player-crafted items were another matter. Plus, to make sure it reached a broader audience, you couldn’t fully strip. Not that the alternative wasn’t fun for my teen years. I actually had read about a lot of guys playing as girls, and vice versa. It was a weird but fun way to flip a switch and swap sex. But wouldn’t it be extra weird to pick her now? I mean, I designed her when I was younger, and made her look like my ideal “girlfriend”. Looking at her now, she may actually be too petite for my tastes. She's a foot shorter than me, and while not flat-chested, still very lacking there.

I glance back and forth between Nameya and the others. I didn’t expect this to be quite the difficult choice it now seemed. The knight was more specialized, and a more solid gameplay build. The necromancer was just pure fun, with some wacky self-made spells and gear. But Nameya had been practically my second self. Kinda strange that I spent half my time the last few years as a girl, but there it was.