Rimelion: The Exploiter

45. The Seed of Simulation

I can't trust him—or anyone—with that.

Not yet.

"How's that possible?" I asked instead, my voice steady but my heart pounding. "To simulate the future, I mean."

Riker's grin widened as he slowly lowered himself onto the sofa between Lucas and me, his movements as calculated as always. "Magic," he said simply, as though he'd just told me the sky was blue.

"What?" I stared at him, certain I'd misheard.

"You heard me correctly." His tone carried a hint of amusement, like a teacher explaining something obvious to an oblivious student. "Magic."

"The government discovered a connection to something they call the seed. That connection allowed them to make magic real. After the unification wars in the Pacific region, and especially following Africa's incorporation, they faced a conundrum."

I raised an eyebrow, but he pressed on.

"What to use the seed on? Unlimited energy? This is the unified government we talk about. They redirected it into other applications, thinking they could address issues like the declining birth rate. A noble goal, yes?" His smirk returned. "Alas, by returning criminals to society? That, my dear Charlie, was a spectacular failure."

"And now?" I asked cautiously, feeling he was building toward something.

"Now," Riker said, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto mine, "Nathan holds the keys to the connection. To Rimelion."

"But..." I started, almost saying we, but stopped myself just in time. "But they returned only a few days ago! I was a game tester for years. It makes zero sense. We had testing servers!" My voice rose, frustration spilling over.

Riker shrugged, his rainbow-colored coat shifting faintly in the dim light. "I hold no claims to have all the answers. None of us can. Some things remain a mystery, but one thing is certain—the future lies in Rimelion."

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "So, no more answers to my questions?"

"I'm afraid not," he said, his tone softer, almost apologetic. "And I could be wrong about everything. Perhaps we do live in a simulation."

I glared at him.

"Nathan certainly believes that." He turned to me then, his playful smirk replaced by a rare seriousness. "I want to implement certain changes in this world," he said, his words deliberate.

"The march of progress has shackled humanity, forcing us to serve the very machines we created to serve us," he said, his voice ringing with conviction. "The time will come to seize control of our destiny. To wrest power from the cold hands of AIs and robots and return it to the people! You, with your wit, resourcefulness, and the heart of a fighter, could be the ally this struggle needs. Together, we could spark a revolution and reclaim what's been stolen."

Revolution? Sure. Let me just plan that after breakfast.

It sounded straight out of a political speech. Maybe he'd practiced it in front of a mirror. "I'll think about it," I said, not committing to anything.

"But if that fails..." He let out a sigh, a sound that felt almost too human coming from someone like him. "I need a backup. Another life, if I may."

"In Rimelion?" I asked, though the answer was obvious.

"Yes," Riker replied simply. "That is where your card comes into play."

I dismissed him with a laugh; the kind I hoped to sound sweet. "Me? I'm just a player."

"Ranked eighth on my ranker list," Riker said smoothly, tapping a button on the holo keyboard embedded in the table. The display shifted, and I recognized it instantly—the ranking page.

My ranking page!

The design was old-school—or brand new, depending on your perspective—but unmistakable. There it was, my name and presumed stats in all their high-ranking glory. "The only hero not directly tied to any known criminal," he said.

This just got complicated. "That's..." I trailed off, unsure whether to feel proud or nervous.

Riker brought up a holo-screen, the flickering light illuminating his smirk. A video played, capturing a chaotic battle at sea.

The perspective was from a player aboard a ship, battling a swarm of floaters.

The recording centered on a massive Duke's vessel—should have I said uncle's?—Istvan's shields holding steady against the relentless pounding of an enormous, writhing boss.

Then, through the rain, the distinct light of the Spear of Destiny pierced the gloom. Moments later, I was hurled from the safety of the shield into the raging storm beyond.

Me and Lucas leaned forward, both staring at the holo-screen with bated breath.

I was launched mid-air, colliding with a monstrous tentacle. Frost spread from my spear, an almost sentient force snaking through the storm.

The battlefield was pure chaos—tentacles slammed into frozen waters, shattering the ice into sharp, glittering fragments. The storm howled and twisted, rain transforming into freezing sleet and snow in my wake.

My movements on the screen were wild but deliberate, each strike calculated to push back the onslaught of enemies.

I danced across the frozen ocean, icy trails marking every step as my spear cleaved through floaters and massive limbs. The camera captured the raw ferocity of the fight—the shattering impacts, the desperate bursts of mana turning the storm into a blinding vortex.

And then came the climax: a final sprint, weaving through the Boss's writhing limbs, the glowing spear driving me forward.

The recording ended with a brutal, decisive slash that cleaved the Boss apart. The screen froze on the aftermath—me standing amidst the frozen carnage, victorious but battered, as snow gently settled around my still form.

It felt surreal.

"That's... me?" I muttered, the words barely escaping my lips.

"Holy... Charlie..." was the only thing Lucas said.

"Dubbed Ice Princess Charlie." Riker laughed. "Ah, yes, you are indeed the sole pure support representative within the top 100—a precarious foothold, and at a rather modest level, no less."

"Priest is..." I trailed off, shaking my head. "I want to battle with swords."

Riker nodded, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Still, should you ascend in rank, I have little doubt our AI would swiftly recalibrate and place you much higher. Your potential is undeniable, after all. Thus my offer, build your kingdom and I shall invest into it."