Myself and Illusions

Ugh, what a headache. You don't think your head has ever hurt this bad--ah, it's not even just your head, now. Your whole *body* aches. What's happened to you? Wait...who *are* you? [[Try to remember.]]

It takes a long moment, but you've recalled your own name. Roland Patrick Grant. Your mother insisted on the middle name--it was her grandfather's. While growing up, sometimes you omitted the middle initial entirely, since people tended to snicker when they realized what your three initials made up. Lately you've decided to own it, though. Let them laugh. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Right, then. That's your name...ah, the memories are flooding back. Now *there's* an odd sensation. Your body still aches and you can't really see yet--there's some sort of odd light all around you, and it's hard to tell if something's wrong with your eyes or what--but your head is experiencing your life all over again. Hey, it's been a pretty good life. Born to middle-class parents in a fairly nice city. Grew up to age 18--say, that's how old you are!--with no major problems, no terrible incidents. [[Let's continue down memory lane.]]

Now detailed memories of recent years are coming back to you. You're a good student, about to finish high school. You *love* to read books and play video games, all sorts, but especially RPGs. Sometimes your friends tease you about your initials because of that. Well, it *is* a little funny. You love a good story in any medium. A few years ago, you discovered a website called TV Tropes, a wiki/catalog of fiction tropes. What a find. In your free time, if you aren't reading a book or playing a game, you're reading TV Tropes. It's to the point, now, that you often immediately think of tropes when you encounter them in your hobbies, or even real life. You try not to let them litter your speech too much--most trope names from TV Tropes are informal and not really high-brow academically accepted terms--but sometimes you slip, and you're always thinking about them. [[So how'd I end up here...?]]

Your most recent memories finally reach you. You'd just gotten home after school, had a snack, and thrown your backpack in your room. Just before entering your room, you heard a strange noise, and looked all around. Finding nothing unusual, you backed up through your doorway... [[...and somehow ended up like this.]]

What and where is "this", though? The aches are fading from your body, and your mind seems to be entirely in order. That's good. What's going on? The strange light is fading. You feel sudden sensations, normalcy is returning to your existence. There's a feeling of falling. [[WHAM!]]

You've fallen flat on your back. The sun is shining down on your closed eyelids and the grass feels cool and comforting. That's lovely, but there's no grass in your room. Nor was your window open, so how can there be sunshine and grass? [[Open your eyes.]]

You open your eyes, get up, and dust yourself off. You're by the side of a well-worn dirt road in a sparse forest. Judging by the sun, it's about noon. There's no place like this anywhere near where you live, and anyway if there was there's no way you could've reached it by entering your room. Well, well. Looks like you've stumbled into your own little adventure. "I wouldn't even begin to know what to call this," you mutter to yourself as you walk along the road in an arbitrarily-chosen direction. "Fish Out Of Water? Seems as close as any other trope. Here's hoping I manage to survive." You're taking the whole situation pretty well, considering. It helps that you've seen plenty of movies, games, and books where this sort of thing happens, and you know that nobody ever gets anywhere by whining and crying about it. [[Continue walking.]]

It's possible, after all, that maybe you just tripped backing up into your room, hit your head, and...passed out? This could be a dream. Or maybe you hit your head in such a way that you sleepwalked here or something. At any rate, this *could* still be Earth. Normal, boring Earth. You sigh as you think of that. What a shame, if so. You'd *so* like to have a little fantasy adventure in your life. Sounds ring in your ears. You look up. There's a commotion up ahead, down the road. [[Investigate.]]

You approach the source of the noise. There's a horse-drawn cart on the road about fifty feet away. Two horses are attached, and two men are seated in it, facing away from you. They've stopped the cart and are looking left, into the woods. You hear terrific thuds, crashing and snapping, and all at once your hopes rise and your stomach falls. You're definitely not on Earth anymore. A fifteen-foot tall humanoid beast bursts from the trees and rips a horse from its reins, taking a bloody bite of the animal before throwing it to the side and raising a club crudely fashioned from a tree. The two men in the cart scream and jump out just in time to avoid being crushed as the club swings down, splintering the cart. The other horse tries to run, but the club swings again, a side-swipe, and catches it full on, launching it into the woods and out of sight. The two men, still screaming, run down the road and off into the distance. Watching this, you've already ducked behind a tree. There's no way you're going near that...ogre? Seems fair enough. It looks enough like standard fantasy depictions of such things that you're confident in the name. The ogre bellows a sickening laugh at the men running away, but does not give chase. It roots through the remains of the cart, placing a few bags and boxes in a sack it carries with it. Then, hoisting club and sack in one hand and the remains of the poor bitten-horse in another, it rumbles back into the woods. [[Gather your thoughts.]] [[Follow the ogre!]]

You slump down, back against the tree you hid behind. Incredible. An ogre. There's nothing like that on Earth, you're certain of it. And no one in the city where you live would own a horse and cart. Then this truly must be a fantasy world. What should you do? In games, you often like to take a direct approach. You *could* head down the road after the two men... ...but the otherworldly nature of the ogre is fixated in your mind. Such creatures, in fantasy, often have a hoard. The beast *did* take items from the cart. [[Follow the ogre!]]

You've made up your mind. The ogre bears investigating, and never mind that you're only a mere human. If you're in a fantasy world, you're going to see all the fantastical things and events you can. [[Into the woods!]]

It's easy to follow the ogre. The man-beast takes heavy steps that lightly shake the earth with each foot-fall, and makes no attempt to brush bushes or branches out of its way, snapping or smashing each as it passes. Its passage makes so much noise that, at a reasonable distance, you follow without alerting it to your presence. After about ten minutes of this, the forest opens up into a clearing around some large rocks. White and smooth-sided, the rocks thrust upward from the earth even taller than the ogre. The rocks form a crude circle, and in the midst of this is a partially-enclosed, somewhat cave-like area that is obviously the ogre's den. At the back of the cave, boxes, bags, and chests are piled. Some are opened, and you can see various goods spilling out: tools, medieval weaponry, and...Oh, yes. Gemstones, jewelry, and precious metals. Coins, bars, trinkets! Now *there's* a fantasy hoard. The ogre tosses the sack he was carrying into the shallow cave, and settles down with his back against one of the rocks. A fire is smoldering in a firepit at the center of the circle of rocks. When the ogre notices the fire, he growls and prods it with his club, tossing a few pieces of wood onto the fire. [[A somewhat grisly meal?]]

His fire restored to a roaring blaze, the ogre tears the dead horse into pieces and begins to roast one over the flame on a pole. Gruesome sight. As your eyes take in the rest of the ogre's den, you realize from the many fading or faded spots of red that this is certainly not the first time this scene has been enacted. The stench finally reaches you...ugh. Awful. [[Dangerous thoughts enter your mind.]]

Exactly what did you intend to accomplish here, following a deadly beast like this? The ogre could smash you in an instant with club, fist, or foot, or rip you apart as easily as it did the horse. [[Back away from the ogre's den.]] [[I want some of that treasure!]]

That's the smart thing to do, right? You should leave. There are easier and safer ways to have fun in a fantasy world than this. As you back away, careful to step quietly, your gaze lands once again upon the treasure hoard. Oh my God, there's a glowing sword leaning up against the wall, next to an ornate, amazing-looking staff. Your resolve and greed grow. [[I want some of that treasure!]]

To heck with the risks. You're getting your hands on some gold and a magic weapon or two. Then you can *really* have a fantasy adventure. Still, that ogre's going to be a problem. He's still roasting and eating horse, looking away from your position, but he's facing directly toward the cave and the treasure. Damnation. [[I'm too low level for this. It's not fair!]]

How unfair! You're just a normal guy from Earth, and then fate drops you into a fantasy world like you've always dreamed of, but you have nothing with which to take on this first challenge. There's no way you could beat this ogre in any kind of fight. There's always waiting till he leaves again, but who wants to wait? Frustrated and angry, the weight of your situation hanging over you--and how you might never find a way back home, or a make a decent living in this strange new world--you wish for something, anything to happen. Ooh. What was that feeling just now? You shudder. It's midday, not cold, no wind. There was a puzzling sensation of...*change*. [[You hear a sudden pounding.]]

You look up from your self-loathing. The ogre is apparently enjoying his meal of burnt horseflesh. He's grabbed his club and is pounding at the earth with each bite, making excited grunts and bobbing about like a fool as he sits and eats. As he starts on a new chunk of meat, he smacks the club backwards into the rock he's sitting against. [[Look up.]]

The rock the ogre is sitting up against is about twenty feet tall. At its tip balances a large black rock, supported from falling by the tips of other rocks in the circle. Strange. You'd swear that black rock wasn't there before. The incessant pounding of the ground and the rocks by the ogre is causing the black rock to shake and wobble. It moves slightly forward, but stops just short of falling--until the ogre finishes the last of his meal, belches, and jumps up. Club in hand, he stretches, extending his arms--and the club bumps up against the white rock one more time. [[An ogre pancake!]]

The large black rock falls, and gravity once again asserts its dominance over the world. You rush into the circle of stones. Hmm. Gruesome. The ogre is stone-dead, crushed underneath the black rock. Satisfied of your safety, you head over to... [[The treasure hoard!]]

It's not exactly beyond your wildest dreams--you'd be screaming like an idiot if that were the case--but you do manage to grin like a maniac as you rummage through the chests and bags. There's plenty of gold and gems. You select the choicest of those, remembering that gold is quite heavy, and place them in a sweet-smelling bag that previously held spices. Off to one side of the small cave are the larger and bulkier items: weapons, armor, paintings, fine pottery. Apparently the ogre had good taste. A weapon and some armor to go along with it would suit you nicely. You're fit and strong, not an athlete really, but you're sure you could could stomach some light armor at least. [[Look for the best weapons.]]

Though there are many weapons--swords, axes, staves, halberds, spears, daggers, maces, flails, whips, greatswords, hammers, bows, crossbows, katars, khopeshes, shotels, kukri, falchions, rapiers, tomahawks, stilettos, and a ring with a nasty spike, you quickly determine the best of the two: a faintly-glowing longsword that is obviously magical, and a six-foot-long ornate staff that positively *thrums* with power. Which weapon shall you take up? In games you tend toward a spellcaster-persona most often. The staff would suit that very well. But can you really learn magic in this world? The magical sword might be the safer choice. [[Time to be a warrior!]] [[I'm a sorcerer at heart!]]

You love magic, but you don't know the rules of this world. The sword it is. As you grasp the hilt, you feel that strange sensation again. That feeling of...*change*. You shake it off. Maybe you're just hungry. But there's nothing to eat here that isn't too disgusting to even consider. You take a few practice swings with the sword. Amazing! It feels like you were meant to wield it. As a joke, you raise the sword, point at a rock outside, next to the campfire, and bellow the name of a special move from *Grandia II*. "Sky Dragon Slash!!" Suddenly the sword drags you forward, clasped in both hands. You jump high in the air--higher than you possibly could on your own--and bring the sword down upon the rock, gleaming with power. The rock explodes beneath you, totally destroyed. The power released by the sword upon landing manifests as a magic circle, yards in diameter. The circle of white rocks that formed the ogre's den is blasted apart by your technique. Only the rock containing the cave remains, its roof blown off. [["Oh."]]

You know that you can't possibly resist the temptation of magic. You reach out to take the staff. As you grasp the staff, you feel that strange sensation again. That feeling of...*change*. You shake it off. Maybe you're just hungry. But there's nothing to eat here that isn't too disgusting to even consider. The staff feels just like you've always dreamed! And hey, even if you can't cast spells, this will still make a good weapon. You swing it about a bit. Hmm, could get used to this. You point the beautifully-gemmed end of the staff toward the cave's mouth. A little tomfoolery couldn't hurt. "Fireball!" A ball of flame blasts from the end of the staff, and shoots out of the cave to strike the fire at the center of the circle of stones. The flame erupts into a magnificent blaze. You stand there stunned. "So magic works after all," you whisper. "Then..." "Iceblast!" A massive spike of ice erupts from the ground beneath the fire, engulfing it entirely, crystallizing and solidifying in an instant. You grin hugely. "Just like in *Chrono Cross*." [[Excellent!]]

You rise from the crater you've created, dazed. You look about you. The carnage from your "joke" is evident. "YES!!" you shout. Now we're talking fantasy adventure! Elated from your discovery, you return to the cave, now more of an indentation in a much-smaller rock. Your Sky Dragon Slash blasted items about somewhat, but you recover your bag of gold and gems, and strap on some armor you noticed earlier. There. You slide the sword into a sheath at your hip, and observe your reflection in a now-cracked mirror. You look every inch a warrior hero, clad in shining bronze-colored plate from head to toe. You weren't sure it would fit at first, but it seemed almost to size itself to you as you tried it on. Before you leave, you have a sudden idea, and seeing it sticking out from underneath the black rock, you slice off the ogre's head. Hefting the bag of riches, and your new ogre trophy, you leave the ogre's den behind. [[Off to adventure!]]

"YES!!" you shout. Now we're talking fantasy adventure! Elated from your discovery, you try out a few more spells. Everything you can think of works. Wonderful! Now you just need some fitting attire. In a box at the back of the cave, you find exactly what you want: a set of clothes that just *scream* sorcery. Black boots, dark blue pants, a blue tunic, and a glorious dark purple coat to go over it that reaches down to your boots. No hat, but you never much liked wizard hats anyway. Suitably clad, you look about one last time. Struck by an idea, you use magic to slice the ogre's head off. You heft your staff, bag of riches, and grisly trophy, and leave the ogre's den behind. [[Let's see what a wizard can do in this world.]]

You head back to the road, and travel along it in the direction the two men ran earlier. Walking along, you figure things out: surely there's a town, or people living in this direction. Such people must live in fear of the ogre. And what have you now got with you? Proof of its demise! [[I spy a town ahead!]]

There's a town ahead! You figured rightly. As you walk into town, trophy in hand, the townsfolk stop and stare. For a while this continues, until two haggard-looking men emerge from a building. They stop dead in their tracks, until one begins pointing and shouting. They and the other townsfolk rush up to you excitedly. You learn that the two men are the owners of the unfortunate horses and cart from earlier. You inform them of what happened, changing the details to make it sound like you saw their plight and set off to kill the beast. You spin a tale of yourself as a powerful sorcerer, and the townsfolk cannot help but believe it--you've got the ogre's head, after all. The town is overjoyed at the death of the ogre, who had menaced them for two years. You tell them where the ogre's lair is, with all their stolen goods still there--leaving out the fact that you took some--and they honor you as a hero, throwing a celebration in your honor that lasts well into the night. You fall into bed, in a room granted you free of charge by the inn, happy that your fantasy life is off to an amazing start. [[Morning comes...]]

You figured rightly. As you walk into the town, trophy in hand, the townsfolk stop and stare. For a while this continues, until two haggard-looking men emerge from a building. They stop dead in their tracks, until one begins pointing and shouting. They and the other townsfolk rush up to you excitedly. You learn that the two men are the owners of the unfortunate horses and cart from earlier. You inform them of what happened, changing the details to make it sound like you saw their plight and set off to kill the beast. You spin a tale of yourself as a powerful warrior, and the townsfolk cannot help but believe it--you've got the ogre's head, after all. The town is overjoyed at the death of the ogre, who had menaced them for two years. You tell them where the ogre's lair is, with all their stolen goods still there--leaving out the fact that you took some--and they honor you as a hero, throwing a celebration in your honor that lasts well into the night. You fall into bed, in a room granted you free of charge by the inn, happy that your fantasy life is off to an amazing start. [[In the morning...]]

In the morning you wake, refreshed, and saunter into the inn's common room. The innkeeper directs you to a table by the hearth and places a full bowl in front of you. As you eat your breakfast, a well-dressed man walks in. From last night you know that he's the town's mayor. The mayor walks to you, bows, and takes a seat at your table. The two of you make small talk for some time, but you can tell that he's wanting to ask you something. [["Come on, what's the matter?"]]

"Ah, Roland, great sorcerer Roland, I hesitate to ask this of you so soon after you've saved our town from that fearsome ogre..." He wrings his hands. You assure the man that if he's got a problem, you're the man for the job. Any job. A hero must start somewhere, after all, and even with the great start you've had, one must keep the heroic acts coming. The mayor looks relieved. "You see, the ogre was not our only problem. It didn't just show up here of its own accord. It was *sent* here two years ago by a terrible warrior-wizard. This wizard has ruled over our lands--nay, the entire *world* for three years. Before he sent the ogre, we could expect dark magic happenings nearly every day. Random teleportation. Sudden storms. All sorts of magical mischief. Then the ogre came, sent by this Dark Lord, and all the trouble stopped for our town--but we still had to deal with the ogre." [["Go on."]]

"Ah, Roland, great warrior Roland, I hesitate to ask this of you so soon after you've saved our town from that fearsome ogre..." He wrings his hands. You assure the man that if he's got a problem, you're the man for the job. Any job. A hero must start somewhere, after all, and even with the great start you've had, one must keep the heroic acts coming. The mayor looks relieved. "You see, the ogre was not our only problem. It didn't just show up here of its own accord. It was *sent* here two years ago by a terrible warrior-wizard. This wizard has ruled over our lands--nay, the entire *world* for three years. Before he sent the ogre, we could expect dark magic happenings nearly every day. Random teleportation. Sudden storms. All sorts of magical mischief. Then the ogre came, sent by this Dark Lord, and all the trouble stopped for our town--but we still had to deal with the ogre." [["I see..."]]

You see where this is going. He wants you to challenge the warrior-wizard, this Dark Lord. Defeat the Dark Lord and free the world from his terrible rule. You scrunch up your face in a grimace. The mayor pales, hems and haws, trying to assure you-- "Ha!" you laugh. "Of course I'll do it." You stand up, staff held high. "This Dark Lord stands no chance against I, Roland, sorcerer supreme!" [[You feel the change rumbling around you...]]

You see where this is going. He wants you to challenge the warrior-wizard, this Dark Lord. Defeat the Dark Lord and free the world from his terrible rule. You scrunch up your face in a grimace. The mayor pales, hems and haws, trying to assure you-- "Ha!" you laugh. "Of course I'll do it." You stand up, drawing your sword. "This Dark Lord stands no chance against I, Roland, warrior hero!" [[The power of the change ripples around you...]]

You've fallen flat on your back. Again. This time there's no mental fugue, no aches and pains--save for your rear, which hit with a metallic *clunk* due to your armor--and the scenery is far different. You gape as you look around. The scenery is, you would say, undescribable, but that's only if you could stop staring long enough to croak a word. Beautiful architecture, fantastical themes, glorious walls and floors surround you. You shake your head and finally manage to form a thought, which you speak aloud: "It's like somebody took all my dreams, all my grandest fantasies of a palace, a castle I'd like to live in, and made it reality..." The booming voice from before echoes around you in a laugh. "I'm not surprised you like it. Welcome! I live here. You'll see many things in the halls and rooms that could distract you...but come. Come to me. You needn't worry about finding the way. It should be...obvious." [[Sally forth into the palace.]]

You've fallen flat on your back. Again. This time there's no mental fugue, no aches and pains--save for your rear--and the scenery is far different. You gape as you look around. The scenery is, you would say, undescribable, but that's only if you could stop staring long enough to croak a word. Beautiful architecture, fantastical themes, glorious walls and floors surround you. You shake your head and finally manage to form a thought, which you speak aloud: "It's like somebody took all my dreams, all my grandest fantasies of a palace, a castle I'd like to live in, and made it reality..." The booming voice from before echoes around you in a laugh. "I'm not surprised you like it. Welcome! I live here. You'll see many things in the halls and rooms that could distract you...but come. Come to me. You needn't worry about finding the way. It should be...obvious." [[March onward into the palace.]]

The Dark Lord was right about knowing where you're going. As you advance through the glorious palace, you *feel* a certain force, as if you really know the way. The sights you glimpse down hallways and through doors are beyond incredible. Magical devices of impossible complexity. Dragons sleeping on giant beds. Armies of golems sealed and ready to march. Libraries packed with tomes of ancient lore. Work-rooms with tantalizing mixtures and creations to astound. In short, all the things you've ever thought were awesome from books and video games. But there'll be time enough for all that...once you've dealt with the man who owns it all. You stop before a set of huge, ornate doors carved and decorated with arcane patterns. This is the place. On the other side of these doors lies... [[But before the doors open...]]

Hand on the door, you're ready to enter when you feel a force, a different one, unlike any you've felt up to now. To one side of the door is an alcove. Set into this alcove, balancing beautifully on its tip, is a large crystal. The wonders of the palace evoked powerful emotions within you, excitement, greed, desire, and more. But the emotion that rises as you gaze at the crystal is none of these. The feeling is of incredible relief. You reach out your hand. Such a precious thing. You want to touch it. You *must* touch it, at least once. No, just once. Somehow you know that. Your fingertips brush its cool smoothness, and... [[It's time.]]

The feeling of the crystal resonates within you... [[Face the Dark Lord.]]

You turn away from the crystal, square your shoulders, and open the door. It's a throne room, as you expected. The Dark Lord stands before you, in front of a grand throne. The mayor called him a warrior-wizard, and that certainly seems to be the case. The Dark Lord is clad in armor of wondrous glowing plates, covered by a cape made of what seems like flowing darkness dotted with stars. His back is to you, but he certainly knows you're there. "Finally, Roland. Finally you've arrived, and we can begin..." You know how these things go. He'll monologue for a while and then you'll fight. But you won't give him the chance. [[You raise your weapon.]]

...and the *change* smashes into you full-force, knocking you off your feet. Dazed, you struggle to stand...and realize that your weapon, your garments, armor, are gone. The feeling of power you've had since you picked up your weapon has left you, left you feeling and looking as you were when you arrived--like an eighteen-year-old boy from Earth. "You had that exactly right, Roland. I won't get the chance. Or rather, well..." He turns around. "...you can see how statements like that can get complicated." [[Impossible...]]

The man standing before you, clad in vestments of the sort you've always dreamed of, amidst a palace full of things you've always wanted, and bearing power of the sort you've desired all your life, is **you.** He's a few years older, perhaps, with a slightly different style of hair, but you've seen that face in the mirror too often to mistake it now. You've taken your fantasy "adventure" in stride up till now, all things considered. Revelations that would shock most people to the core, you've welcomed wholeheartedly. But this is too much. You stagger backwards a step. "Of course you're surprised. I was too, when I realized just who and what I'd summoned to this world yesterday." He steps down from the throne's dais and takes a few steps toward you. "How about I explain things a little, Roland?" [["Please...do."]] [[Skip this cutscene.]]

"My name is Roland Patrick Grant. As you must have guessed, I am you." He gazes off to one side. "Not quite the same you, however. I'm twenty-one years old. Three years ago, I wished for an escape from the boring reality of life...not suicide, but a real escape, a world like the fantasies I...we...lose ourselves in. I ended up here in this world. Somehow, some way, my wish was granted. And I discovered I had power here. You probably noticed it in yourself as well. I can *change* things, change them based along the fiction tropes we know so well. This is a standard fantasy world. Standard to the point that it's almost boring, really. But even that was enough for me, for a little while." He stares at you, into your eyes. "But you *know* it's not enough. Once we get what we want, we want more. More and better of it. It's a terrible slippery slope. And that's fine, or it was. Because I could change things. I could add things. I changed the world. Entertained myself. Had *adventures*." He smiled, a cold grin. It twisted his face until he was practically grimacing in pain. "But it still wasn't *enough*. I can change the world. I can do whatever I want, within limits. Within limits. Do you have any idea what it's like to have that kind of freedom...within *limits?*" You finally speak. "It would be...horrible." [["That's right," he says.]] [[Skip this cutscene.]]

Didn't want to read all that, did you? Very well... [[Make a choice.]]

"Absolutely right. Anything you want. But not *this*. Anything I want. But not *that*. I can do anything. But not *everything*." "The rules seemed arbitrary at first. But I slowly learned. I have power to change, as I said, along the lines of fiction tropes. I'm a writer playing in a playground of my own writing, except I can't truly *write*, I can only plug in things based on ideas I've heard of before. I'm ruled by the tropes. I became an Evil Overlord--yes, the trope--because that's the strongest thing I could manage." "Only that?" you ask. "Only an Evil Overlord? Not a Physical God, or one of the Powers That Be? Not a Reality Warper?" "Reality Warping is essentially the power we have," he says. "But no, not any of those you mentioned. I could not aspire to those heights. You wouldn't be here if I could have done so. I'm strong, but only *so* strong. And that's where you come in." [["What do you want from me?"]] [[Skip this cutscene.]]

"I want your power," he says. "Or your help. Either will do. I brought you here because finally--after three years--I discovered how to bring someone else here. Someone like me. I have just enough power to do that. Imagine my surprise when somehow I managed to bring *myself* here again. I watched you a while to see what you would do. And I soon realized that your power is *different* than mine." "How is it different? From what I've tried, it looks like we both work with fiction tropes," you say. "Not quite. I *create* tropes. Not new ones, only existing ones, but I can place them in the world." "You *change* tropes, truly warping reality. How do you think that ogre died? I was ready to summon you to me right then, before you got yourself killed by it, but then you wished for something to happen, and that rock appeared. It wasn't there before. You didn't create it with magic. You *willed*...and things *changed*." "I need that power. My power plus yours equals true fiction, true writing, makers and implementers of ideas in a world of their own creation." [["So then..."]] [[Skip this cutscene.]]

"It's simple, really," he says. "Make a choice and stand by it. You have several. Join with me, by my side, and we'll create a world to our liking, anything we want. Truly anything. Or *truly* join with me, and we could be one person...as we already are, but as I said, it's complicated. Will yourself to become part of me, and we *will* be. Or choose poorly, choose to fight me. I can see that choice in you as well, don't try to deny it." "There are other choices," you snap. "There are always other choices." "There are *never* other choices, Roland. Not in these worlds we love so much, not in video games. We know that better than most." "What are you talking about?" Your voice raises to a high pitch. "Video games offer optional, hidden choices all the time! You just need to look for them!" "That's nothing at all, Roland. Video games offer the illusion of choice, and you know it. You *know* it. Video game developers aren't gods, they can't allow for every single decision you could possibly make in a game. Ultimately, you get the choices you're given and precious else. You can die in games--which is hardly a choice--or you can quit, turn off the console or quit the game. That's nothing, nothing. I'm offering you a choice with almost that many options, which is only fair." "LIFE gives you more options!" you scream. "YOU have more options than that!" "SO WHAT?" he bellows. "I still had **nothing!** What do you get in life? You get less than I have now. You get *limits*. Do whatever you want but don't mess with other people too much or you die or get imprisoned. Limits. What do I have? Anything I want, with **limits!!** What could WE have? Anything, anything, whereas everything else gives us nothing, *nothing*." He puts a hand to his face. "Please, Roland." You see drops of water running out from underneath his hand. He extends that hand towards you. "Please give me *something.*" [[Make a choice.]]

He has given you options--or rather, you've given yourself options. What will you do, Roland? [[Create a new world alongside yourself.]] [[Will yourselves joined, and step into infinity.]] [[I'll take a third option.]]

You agree to help yourself create a new world. It's not easy. The concepts involved are incredibly difficult. You spend weeks, months with yourself, learning from each other. It's amazing that there's so much you can learn about yourself. Eventually you're ready. Thoughts rage and seethe within you both. You send them forth, into the world, and everything *changes...* "Thank you, Roland," your older self says to you. "You've helped me beyond what either of us can know." At the end of it all there lies before you a world, a *universe*, of potential. It's done. [[Step into the world you've created.]]

"There are no third options here, Roland. I've given you what is essentially Hobson's choice. My way or the highway. Don't choose the highway." [[Maybe he's right.->Make a choice.]] [[No. I have the power here.]]

**The End.** [[Ah, but choices yet remain...->It's time.]]

It's better to exist as one. Maybe you can understand yourself better that way. You *will* the change into being. Your other self's face lights up as you begin. The change is slow but steady. Inexplicable feelings, sensations, emotions rise up within you both. Is this what it's like to know yourself? What does that even mean? Before the change completes, you hear your voice...his voice. "Thank you, Roland...No matter the outcome now, I think I can be happy." All the world becomes you as you become one. You *are* now, simply *are*. [[And the universe is spread out before you.]]

Infinite power. Infinite fantasy. [[Anything you desire.]]

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[[Who doesn't want that?]]

[[...Should I have that?]]

[[Should we have that?]]

You *will* the change into being...although you're not sure what you're doing. Reality slowly slips away and finally disappears, leaving only that strange feeling inside your head you feel sometimes when a TV turns off. And soon--or perhaps it took forever--but soon, you wake up on the floor of your room. [[What's happened here?]]

The world, the regular old world, is that so bad a place? Maybe you can help yourself understand...find happiness, in a simpler way. [[I'll try.]]

You clumsy oaf, you. You backed up through your doorway, tripped and fell over your own backpack. The fall must've knocked you silly for a moment. You rise and stretch. Funny, though. You feel like you just had a great night's sleep. Did you dream? Maybe...no. Everything's OK. You settle down on your bed and pull out a portable gaming system. **The End** [[Elsewhere...]]

Another Roland Patrick Grant woke up on the floor of his room, having tripped and fallen. He shook the cobwebs from his mind. "That dream...I can't remember it all." "But I remember enough." In the years to come, Roland--or RPG as he became known to his fans--revolutionized the world of gaming, and technology as well, with his innovative new methods of giving players agency and true choice. He always strived for the ideal: truly enabling the player to do *anything*. In an interview granted late in his life, RPG was asked how he ever expected to reach that goal. "Maybe we can't. But I've got to keep the options open." **The End.** [[Are there yet choices left to make...?->It's time.]]

A dread voice roars in your ears as you complete your boast. "Is that so, 'warrior'? Let me see for myself, then!!" Spots of light manifest all around you, gather, and coalesce into a sphere that swallows you up. For a split second, you recognize the sight and sensation of it, until... [[Not this again...]]

A dread voice roars in your ears as you complete your boast. "Is that so, 'sorcerer'? Let me see for myself, then!!" Spots of light manifest all around you, gather, and coalesce into a sphere that swallows you up. For a split second, you recognize the sight and sensation of it, until... [[Here we go again!]]

You want that, right?

[[You want that, right?]]

Myself and Illusions by Tristan Hull [[Begin.->What's happened?]]