Chapter 1

The streets of New York were filled with a frantic energy, as was so usual during rush hour. haggard office workers and store clerks alike rushed through the street, packed like sardines in a can.

Kody Banks was among them, moving through the crowds like a corpse made to walk. Heavy set bags hung under his eyes, his mid length hair ruffled and unkempt, a sweat drenched shirt clung to him like a second skin.

Kody hated summer, it was the worst time of year. Warm bodies pushed against him uncomfortably, a mix of social repulsion and bodily discomfort pushing his mood further and further into the dirt.

Why did he choose to live here?

Not like he had any choice, he had lived in the same dingy apartment for nearly ten years, and was no closer to getting out. Bills upon bills had kept him trapped in the same financial firm, at the lowest level, all this time.

A 'proper' education had never came his way, never went to college, the current firm had taken him straight out of high school for an internship. He had thought it was his lucky break, but ten years later, and he wished he'd never have taken the offer.

Though, for the moment, he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. Work was done, he had tomorrow free, and his pay check was burning a hole in his pocket. Not a very big hole mind, but big enough.

Ducking into an uncrowded back alley, Kody moved to one of his remaining passions in the city. Flea markets. The mix of hand made goods and second hand items never failed to fill Kody with wonder. He loved making little stories of how the item was made, or the life it lived before. Some of his favourites he kept in a note book. Multiple notebooks at this point.

It didn't take long to reach the market, a small collection of stalls draped in dull colours like a faded parade. Kody made a beeline to a stall near the centre, run by an old friend who offered some heavy discounts.

"Hey Bill, got anything interesting?" Kody asked in a flat tone as he approached.

"Not much" Bill replied, his tone jovial in direct contrast to Kody's, "Stuff's been flyin' of the shelves, ain't got much t' spare"

"Shame" Kody said dryly, reflexively giving Bill a quick once over with his gaze. A habit he had picked up from childhood detective fantasies, and one he was never quite able to drop.

Ratty was the best way Bill could be described, well bellow average height with overly angular features, messy black hair falling over his head like a wet mop. At nearly all times he was either rubbing his hands together, or ramming them down into his pockets, as though he was caught in a perpetual cold breeze.

Not that Kody could talk about looks.

Eyeing up a dusty standing mirror, sizing up its make and age, he caught a glimpse of his reflection. Mostly unremarkable features save his nose, which was slightly bent and too big for his liking, and a missing left eyebrow in contrast to the thick strip of hair that was his right.

The urge to shave his right eyebrow rose in Kody's gut, but he pushed it down. He didn't have much in the way of looks, and it tended to be a good conversation starter, people were always curious about it.

While he was catching every little detail of the mirror, Bill let out shrill whistle to a passing lady.

"Hey gorgeous, you want this waffle maker? State o' the art"

All he got in response from the passing woman was a disdainful flick of the hair.

"Broads" He scoffed, turning conspiratorially to Kody, "It's 'cause I'm short, broads never buy from short guys. Ever notice that?"

Like Bill, he was bellow average height, about five eight. Never bothered him much. The obsession some had with height baffled Kody.

Tearing his eyes away from the standing mirror -cedar wood piece, German, likely a replica- Kody scanned the stall for any eye catching nick-nacks he actually had space for.

A small box, barely visible behind the leg of a simple pine table, drew in Kody's attention like a moth to a flame.

"Hey Bill" Kody called as he pulled the the box out, revealing the myriad of cd cases it held, "What's all this?"

"Oh those?" Bill replied without looking, packing a rug for a middle aged woman who was impatiently tapping their feet, "Old PC games. My cousin sold 'em to me for fifty bucks, figured I'd hold onto 'em till they was vintage or somethin'. Feel free to take one, I won't mind"

Nostalgia crashed into Kody like a wave as he flicked through the collection, classics of his childhood coming up one after another. Every single game was either an old favourite, or an all time great. Hero's of might and magic, spore, Cid Myers Civilisation.

Bill's cousin had taste.

"You play any of these?"

"Me?" Bill said with an affronted look, "Do I's look like a bum t' ya?"

Kody gave Bill a small chuckle as he returned to scouring the case. A black case suddenly caught his attention, a game he had never seen or heard of before.

Neo-gothic spires burst from a ruined wasteland covered in shadows, a moon far too large looming in the background like an oppressive king, all brought to life with dulled watercolours.

In a stylized, gothic font, the words 'Moonfall Spires' was emblazoned inside the moon. With interest, he flipped the box over, finding it nearly blank save a short blurb. Not a single credit or special studio symbol in sight.

'The day the moon fell, the spires fell with it.

Plague has reached its tendrils into this once great land, the nexus of worlds.

Only you can put this derelict land down, and save yours in doing so'

White text in a familiar, gothic font was all that adorned the back of the box.

Kody began turning the box over curiously, looking for any kind of indication of who made the game, and coming up short.

Pulling out his phone, the screen so shattered it defied common sense the thing still worked at all, he began tapping away at the screen with caution so as not to slice open his fingers, a sadly all to common experience. After a quick search, all he found were ludicrous conspiracies about the moon being a mega structure.

"Your cousin a game developer?"

"Nope, bum ain't done a day of hard work in his life"

Kody began to recall popular stories that had sprung up when he was in high school, ones about cursed games found in garage sales or by the side of roads.

"Can I take this one?"

"Y' got two hands ain't ya? They still workin' good?"

"Thanks man, see you for poker next week?"

"You know it, take care"

Kody rushed out of the flee market, clutching the box to his chest like a treasure.

...

Kody's apartment was his pride and joy, a space he kept with meticulous care. Not a single spec of dust was out of place, the walls and shelves dotted with finds from the flea market, nothing he owned was first hand.

As he stepped through the threshold, his body melted like ice cream on a warm day as he collapsed onto a plush chair, never had figured out the maker or age of the thing. Kody hated the summer.

With fervour, he tore of his shirt, the poor thing more a drenched rag than anything else. With a sigh of satisfaction, Kody stood before a pedal stand fan in the corner, letting the cooling air wash over his sweat drenched form. He simply existed for a blissful minute before moving to his bedroom.

While the apartment wasn't big, just a kitchen living room hybrid and a bedroom, he made the most of the space. His room was much the same, both organised and cluttered, not a single inch going to waste. On a small desk, a beaten and worn tower pc sat, an equally worn monitor and keyboard attached.

With excitement, he booted up the pc, a process that took three full minutes, and slotted the disk in with wide eyes. He knew hoping for a cursed game was both childish and bad for his health, but he would do anything to break the monotony.

He had Chinese in the fridge and no other commitments, so today would be a gaming day.

As the disk slid in, the screen glitched; the pixels on it going haywire in a dazzling rainbow. Panic shot through Kody like a lightning bolt as he began frantically searching for any electrical fault.

When he raised his head from the tower, the glitching had subsided. A familiar picture filled the screen, though pixilated to a degree. Moonfall Spire's box art.

Mournful orchestral music came through the setup, the soft whistle of wind undercutting the score.

A subtle fear began to wrap its fingers around Kody. What if this game really was cursed?

'Was I interesting enough to get haunted?'

Kody pressed the space bar, and the screen faded to black.

The music shifted to a more generic, up beat chip tune, reminiscent of town areas in old Zelda games. A border like the framing of a fancy oil painting surrounded the screen as pictures and words faded in.

Those same towers from the box art, though not in disrepair and lacking the ominous air they held. The blasted wasteland a thriving city.

'Moonfall was not always the name of these spires.

Worldanchor Spire was what the locals called these lands long ago, a land of prosperous trade and harmony, a land with no peer.'

The scene changed, scientists gathered around a glowing orb, radiating power like a live wire.

'Their prosperity was not enough, their ways not widespread enough.

so they would conquer, and conquer, and conquer, and conquer.

Conquer further, conquer faster, conquer greater than any had before.'

A picture of three figures, a scientist, a military commander, and a noble of some kind looming over a model with hundreds of interconnecting dots and lines.

The music shifted slightly, taking on an ominous undertone.

'They conquered, till their world could support their conquest no more, and they raged.

If their universe could not keep their conquest, they would find more.'

The picture shifted back to the lab scene.

The tempo of the music was climbing, like the fuse to a powder keg, racing towards an inevitable climax.

'They pushed, advanced and strove for more.

Till they succeeded.'

Returning to the landscape shot of Worldanchor spire, something was immediately wrong, the world was bathed in darkness. Not a single star winked in the night sky, only the moon hanging like an omen in the sky.

There was no music, no ambience. Only silence.

'They broke the barrier between, and their expansion could continue.

But that day, the sun did not rise.'

The moon grew closer.

'And the moon fell.'

The image changed to the pixilated box art, the previous life that filled the photos absent as the music returned to the first tune Kody had heard. 

'Their world is a cancer.

Cut it out, and in doing so, save yours'

With that, the intro ended, and the border vanished. Text appeared on the screen.

'Make you first character (Warning, no second character will be made before the game begins):

Pick a world

Pick carefully, only one character may be made per world'

A list of names scrolled down the screen. Some simplistic and to the point, like 'Apocalypse world', others with more flowery or fantastical names like 'Telrastius' or 'The Immortal Sphere'.

All in all, there was over a hundred.

Without anything more to go off of, Kody chose the first on the list, 'Alvalos'. No need to overcomplicate.

A short message flashed, notifying Kody of his selection's permanency, before the screen faded again.

A stylized world appeared, oversized landmarks of medieval styles dotting the image, a mountain jutted out the side with an abstracted dragon circling the peak.

Music swelled in an orchestral sting, the chip music struggling to capture the sound of a full orchestra.

'Alvalos, a world of steel and spirit. The mystical weaves through the very fabric of this world, allowing feats impossible to most worlds to become common place.

Knights and mages gather under the banners of lords and kings in constant power struggles.

This world, that knows no peace, will be the birth place of your hero.'

...

Bill was packing up his stall, a merry tune on his lips, when a new face approached.

This wasn't too strange, Bill couldn't remember every Joe Schmo that came round the flea market, but this one was different.

A woman with a platinum blonds hair pulled up in a bun, dark shades obscuring her eyes, clad in a casual clothes so generic, it seemed like what an alien would wear to pass off as a regular human. That was a cop, Bill had a nose for it, and he could spot one in casual a mile away.

She moved through the closing stalls, an apologetic look on her face as she struck up conversations. She never lingered for more than a minute at each stall, moving on swiftly to the next with a wave.

While he could have closed before she got to him, curiosity won out, and he left his stall half packed as she approached. Though only after a thorough check that 'that box' was properly hidden.

"Sorry to do this so late" the woman said apologetically as she reached his stall, "I'm looking for a specific item, it's rather rare so I'll happily pay extra for it. I got a tip I might find it here"

"Sure thing, be happy to help you look. So what's this collectors item you's looking for?"

"Oh, right, give me a second"

The woman reached into her pocket, producing a sleek, pristine smart phone. Bill was sure it was the latest model.

"Here it is" The woman flipped the phone round to show Bill a picture of a familiar game, the one Kody had taken earlier that day.

Eyeing the woman intently, Bill spoke casually.

"I know the thing, sold it earlier today"

Rather than the expected disappointment, Bill saw... Fear? Panic? Desperation?

The woman did well to mask it, the tinted glasses aiding greatly, but the signs where still there.

"That's a shame" the woman put on a disappointed façade, but a panicked warble still slipped into her tone, "You wouldn't happen to know who purchased it?"

While he was no expert, Bill had heard horror stories before. Rich collectors with obsessive personalities learning about rare finds that got snatched up by unwitting market goers. A friend told him about one harassing a woman for six months till she relented and handed over the item, only at threat of losing her job.

While he couldn't put his finger on why, Bill was getting that vibe from the woman.

"Sorry lady, don't know the guy. Could reach out if I see him again, but uh... Didn't seem like the type to come back"

"Oh, definitely" The woman fumbled in a pocket, grabbing a strip of paper and a pen. Bill lamented for a minute that more people weren't as eager to give their phone number as this woman, it had taken nearly a year and a half before Kody even considered talking outside the market.

"Call me if he comes back" she instructed as she slid the slip of paper, and a crisp fifty, into his hands, "This means a lot to me, please tell me if you see anything"

With that, the woman left the market, a panicked rush to her pace.