THE MOMENT
"Huh," Janice relaxed her sword and tilted her head at the cornered NPC. She attacked the older, leather-faced blacksmith in his workshop. He was supposed to be on his knees pleading for his life and eager to trade his services. Instead, he explained he was a real, live person and insisted he wanted to live. The blacksmith stood defiantly with his eyes locked on Janice.
"Did they change the quest?" she wondered aloud. Janice sheathed the long blade at her side; then, she made a swiping gesture with her hand. A glassy slate appeared and hovered in the air before her, its surface was even with her chest. Janice put both hands on its surface and began typing while the smith watched with interest.
"Are you... sparing me?" he asked timidly. Janice nodded but kept her focus on the slate. Her eyes scanned it up and down as if she were reading but the smith could only see a smokey, opaque surface.
"Wasn't going to kill you anyway. You're supposed to offer me a weapon upgrade in exchange for your life."
"Oh," the smith said. "Do you want me to upgrade your weapon?" he asked. Janice slowly looked up from the slate and tilted her head at him. She smirked playfully then shook her head.
"Not like that," she said. "But I think I figured out what's wrong. What's your favorite number?" she asked.
"45. What's wrong?" the smith asked. Janice smiled.
"Something awesome! Congratulations! You woke up!" She typed a message on the slate, then dismissed it with another wave of her hand. It crumbled into white powder that disappeared before hitting the ground. "Help's on the way."
"What kind of help?" The smith asked. "What did I wake up from?"
"According to what I read, you have a soul now," Janice said. "You were fiction before. An A.I. program run by nanos. You're going to need help living now that you're alive. I called a mod to take care of you."
"You... read some information about this situation?" The smith asked. "How often does this happen?"
"I dunno," Janice shrugged. "Often enough to be in the FAQ. Why?"
"I guess technically I was only born today...," he said. He shook his head. "but I do know this. If something that ain't supposed to happen keeps happenin' there's a reason for it," he said. "I can't even begin to wrap my head 'round...," The smith looked at his calloused hands. "...whatever I was before. I don't know what it took to create the fictional version of me, but I do know it would have been easier to start with a real version. What if I was real? What if they all are?" he asked.
Janice stood and stared at him with a slack jaw. She just wanted to do some light grinding, she did not expect an existential quest.
"If they are," a new voice said. "Then, Ms. Sharp is even more of a genius than I thought." A portly teenager with a jungle of curls atop his head nodded at Janice. "Mod Aurelio," he said.
"The truth is, we know how it happens. It's not intended to be public knowledge yet, but I can tell it's already on your mind," Aurelio said. "If you're able to keep a secret, I'll be glad to tell you. However, if you're unable to keep it a secret, Sharp Development will ban you from the AlterNet."
"I won't tell!" Janice said. Aurelio nodded.
"Occasionally a soul will find an NPC body that it likes more than its intended body. But, until then, they're all empty vessels until a soul gets in and drives off like someone stealing a car. Though they're a nuisance, NPCs in the AlterNet are not humans reprogrammed and trapped," Aurelio chuckled.
"But even then," Aurelio added. "It would take someone pretty bad to run the AlterNet that way," he shook his head. "There's no way Ms. Sharp could be that soulless."