Ten Levels Down: Horizon GameLIT, #1

By Terry Dules

Garrit Hale doesn't look like much. In fact, he is often overlooked by everyone. He's just another scrawny nerd, wasting away on the Horizon—a digital world that has quickly become more like home than the real world.

But even digital avatars can catch the attention of those in power and the Protectorate needs Garrit's help. Deep in the bowels of Horizon, in a district where only the highest-leveled players dare to go, there is a challenge arena that boasts a prize worthy of the very best - and the Protectorate wants it.

Many have tried, and many have died, but when presented with an offer he can't refuse, Garrit decides to give it a shot. After all, what is there to lose when you can just respawn?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terry Dules
• Release date: Sep 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223448020

Book preview

Terry Dules

Ten Levels Down

A Horizon GameLIT Novella

Copyright © 2023 by Terry Dules

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Terry Dules asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Terry Dules has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

Cover typography by Inorai https://typobyino.crd.co/

First edition

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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Publisher Logo

Thanks must be offered to a good friend, and creative comrade who invited—and persuaded—me to participate in this whirlwind of creative fury. As reluctant as I may have been, I, and my writing, are all the better for it.

You know who you are. Thank you.

Contents

Foreword

Acknowledgement

Never go into battle without sick tunes.

Horizon

To See the Sky

Chuck’s Place

Protectorate

A Lucrative Proposition

The Reef

An Odd Expression

Alphie

Terra

The Divide

Into the Abyss

Comfort Zone

Ten Levels Down

C.H.I.M.E.R.A

It’s a Date

Endless Sky

Foreword

This story is a departure for me. I am generally a fantasy author, and while GameLit as a genre generally follows closely to fantasy, it is still a different beast to tame when it comes to writing. LitRPG and GameLit are both genres that I read voraciously and hold close to my heart. They are an inspiration for my other writing, as well as an escape from it.

Ten Levels Down was a challenge. As part of the Inkfort Press Publishing Derby, authors have sixty days to write their submission before it goes to beta, and eventually, ARC readers before being published. It goes without saying that sixty days is a tight timeline.

Such a tight schedule creates its own problems. Not only do you have to write the story, but you also have to revise, edit, and market it yourself. All of these things are different, requiring different skill sets and that shows. Every author is different, and they go about those things differently.

All of that to say this—I know that this story isn’t perfect. Far from it actually. However, I am content with what I have accomplished under such tight timelines and rules.

I do hope you enjoy the story. Maybe we will see Garrit, Grimm, and Malia again someday.

Happy reading.

Terry Dules

Acknowledgement

This book was published as part of the 2023 Inkfort Press Publishing Derby! Check out the other books published in this year’s Derby below:

www.inkfortpress.com/publishing-derby/2023-derby-books

Never go into battle without sick tunes.

Listen while you read.

Music is crucial to my creative process and I find that the right music can add a lot to a story. Just imagine your favorite movie with no music at all. It would probably lose a lot, wouldn’t it?

What is Star Wars without John Williams’ score? Tron Legacy without the music created for it by Daft Punk? What would Indiana Jones be without the iconic theme? Guardians of the Galaxy without the ‘Awesome Mix’?

You get the idea.

So, if you, like me, enjoy music suited to a story, grab your headphones, scan that code, and rock on.

Long live the music.

Horizon

Garrit Hale pulled up his hood and hunched his shoulders against the cold wind and what little of the rain made it this deep into the city. If it was rain, there was no telling what foul things filtered through from the upper city. Deep in the bowels of New York, in a district locals often called the swamp, it was always damp and dirty. Trash skittered along the ground to pile up in corners, and the few people around hurried about their business with little notice of others. If you lived here, you knew that it was best to move with purpose. The Protectorate didn’t care about the people who lived this far down.

It was easy for Garrit to go unnoticed in the dark alleys and streets. He was small—barely over five feet—with all the muscle mass of wet cardboard. Bullies had been a daily part of his life for as long as he could remember, but Horizon could change all that.

Well, not really. Nothing physically changed about his physique here, but inside Horizon? That was different. Well, it could be if he wanted it to.

Garrit stopped in front of a boarded-up shop window. From the look of it, it used to be a bodega—or maybe a deli—but now the space stood dark and abandoned. He always stopped here. Graffiti was nothing unusual in the swamp, but the dripping paint sprayed on these shop windows transcended mere graffiti.

In place of the garish gang tags or scrawled depictions of male anatomy that dotted every wall in the neighborhood, there was a sweeping aerial depiction of New York. Not the dark, urban tangle that it was now, with thousands of levels of filth and suffering, but how it used to be, before the Protectorate unified most of the world under one banner, when this city was the crown jewel of a country called America. The East River sparkled in the foreground, and Manhattan rested on an island, its towers clawing at the blue, cloud-dotted sky. It was idyllic and inspired. He could appreciate that. Garrit would have loved to see the city like that. It was impossible, of course, but a boy can dream.

Secret, treasonous dreams.

The rivers had been built over centuries ago to make way for the endless city that now stood in their place and Garrit—having spent his whole life in the swamp—had never actually seen the sky. If he looked up, all he saw were the tower blocks reaching up until they converged in the distance. It must be there, but only the rich and powerful could afford to rise high enough in the city to see it.

Garrit was neither rich nor powerful. Not yet. Horizon had the potential to change that.

He turned and left the mural behind, cutting through alleys until he came to a single door buried in an alcove. A lone light lit the area with a sickly green glow. Garrit made sure he wasn’t followed into the alley before beating a fist on the door. Two beats, wait for a slow three-count, three more beats.

A panel in the door slid open and a pair of glowing blue eyes appeared.

It’s me. Garrit pulled back his hood just enough to show his face and a fringe of greasy blonde hair before pulling it up again.

The panel snapped shut and a buzzer sounded as the door latch disengaged. He pushed it open and stepped through. Blue eyes sat to one side inside a wire cage pretending to read a years-old dirty magazine, but Garrit doubted the lout could actually read. Not that there was anything worth reading in such a publication.

Where am I tonight? He asked.

Pod six. Blue eyes grunted and turned the magazine sideways with a look of appreciation.

You got it.

Garrit came to this Horizon den every day but had yet to make enough shill to reserve his own pod. For now, he had to rely on whatever cobbled-together bootleg pod was empty whenever he showed up. Today it was pod six, which suited him fine.

He liked pod six. It had some odd glitches, but he knew them well enough that they generally weren’t a problem. He entered the small booth at the back of the dark hall and pulled the curtain shut. His hood came off and hung on a peg by the door, as did his shirt. He settled into the contoured chair, connected a plastic intravenous line to the port installed in the fold of his right elbow and pushed the control button to start the flow. Fire and ice flowed into his arm and he shuddered at the feeling.

It was mostly saline to help keep him hydrated—that was the icy sensation—but it also contained a hallucinogenic sedative known as Ember. The fire. The drug eased him into a trance-like state that allowed him a stable connection to Horizon. Garrit keyed his access codes into the terminal and the seat buzzed as it reclined and the shell of the booth closed around him.

A string of status messages scrolled past as Garrit’s connection to Horizon initialized. Vital signs—heart rate, respiration, adrenal activity, hydration levels, blood sugar levels, and blood pressure—flashed across the display. All of them were collected by sensors embedded in the pod’s chair or the