The Sun Sets on Einherjar

Einherjar. A golden arena, as if an ancient amphitheater had been transported whole and scattered with sun-bleached sand. Overhead, the sun burned through the last of its lifespan, scorching the sand as faithfully as it had every day before. I lay in the shadow cast by an enormous pillar, hiding from that light. So hot…. Maybe it was because I'd made my hair a little too lush? It was cute, sure, but every time I waited for a match, it got a little warm. Well, not that I had any intention of changing my customization because of it.

Once the shade took the edge off the heat, I looked up at the NPC standing beneath the sun beside the pillar and resumed my grumbling. "They're shutting down the service because the lunatic who went on a rampage with a blade happened to be a ranker in this game? Are you kidding me?" Naturally, the NPC didn't answer. It simply stood there in its unwavering, perfectly upright posture, wearing the same expression as always.

The incident itself had been bizarre from the very motive onward. Every time a match came through, I'd thought the players were all out of their minds, but he swung the blade because, quote, 'the moon was clear.' An absurd reason — and the result went beyond absurd into horrific. The death toll alone was without precedent, and the police who tried to stop him suffered terribly. In the end, they say it took the military stepping in to finish it. And I heard that the shock people felt was as great as the damage — maybe greater. An ordinary human, like some kind of superman, deflecting bullets with nothing but a single sword and cutting down soldiers. Horrible as the incident was, the mere fact that it was possible had turned the world upside down. Anyone who'd spent even a little time spectating in this game I was logged into right now — Einherjar — would have known full well it was possible. Virtual reality or not, people had underestimated it. In the end, it was still "just a game" to them. That's what I figured, anyway.

After that incident, even in America — the land of the free — a massive movement to abolish Einherjar swept the nation. "And I really thought it wouldn't happen, and then even the US servers go under." Honestly, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. An accident gets a little big, so they kill the whole game? Someone kills a person with a kitchen knife, so we ban kitchen knives? Someone gets electrocuted, so we ban electricity? "Graaaagh!" I flopped around in the sand, flailing my limbs in protest. Plenty of Einherjar players were lunatics, but for a perfectly normal person like me, it was just plain unfair.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Of course, I knew. Unlike electricity or kitchen knives, a VR game wasn't something people needed to survive. Still, I'd expected it to end like sword-carry permits — a licensing system. Not an outright ban. In a country where gun deaths blow past ten thousand every single year and yet they stubbornly refuse to ban firearms, of all places! Why not just migrate to another country's servers, you ask? If even one such country had been left, I wouldn't have flown to the opposite side of the planet, would I? Every nation where a similar incident occurred shut down its service, and every nation that watched them do it followed suit. South Korea was no exception. So a little while ago, I liquidated every asset I had in Korea and moved to the United States. The birthplace of Einherjar — and the last country on Earth with servers still running. And barely any time after I arrived, this happens. A bolt from the blue, in the most ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠literal sense.

If I'd known this would happen, I wouldn't have come all the way to America…. No. Who am I kidding. I'd have come anyway. Even if it bought me a single extra day, I would have come without question. Einherjar, the first and only full-dive VR game, was worth that much.

I stopped flailing, scooped up a handful of sand, and let it trickle slowly through my fingers. Each grain slipping between my fingers felt utterly, perfectly real. No — the body experiencing that sensation was far more sensitive and precise than my real one, so it was better than reality. They built something this magnificent, and now they're erasing it…. "Even if it's the only one now, someday a game to rival Einherjar will come along, right?"

The NPC didn't answer this time either. Well, naturally — the matchmaking NPC had no conversation function. Its only job was to endlessly seek out opponents for matches. And knowing that perfectly well, I'd been talking at it this whole time anyway, bottling up my regret with every word.

I checked the clock floating in the corner of my vision. Barely ten minutes left until server shutdown. "So it really is almost over…." I took one last look around the arena. The golden sand spread in a circle at its heart. The colossal pillars rising around that sand like towers. With that view imprinted in my eyes, I closed them. Whenever I closed my eyes like this, everything that had happened in Einherjar would come flooding back on its own.

It was a game that lived up to its name, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in every sense. Einherjar. The warriors of Valhalla. Fight and die within accelerated time, resurrect, and fight again. True to its name, it was a place filled with people who fought forever, death and wounds be damned. Arms torn off, throats cut — and still they fought, weeping from the pain, and kept going. I was one of them. Not that I only fought people. From savage beasts like lions and leopards to monsters no one would ever face in reality, things like dinosaurs. Depending on the game mode, I fought an incredible variety of enemies. Those were good times….

Once, I got so fed up with players refusing to match with me that I changed my avatar. An avatar with strength and height reduced to the absolute minimum, carrying the taunt, 'Still going to refuse now?' Back then, it felt a little unfair to handicap myself for nothing, so I stirred in a spoonful of my own taste. That spur-of-the-moment avatar became my identity. Tricky, evasive combat built on a small frame and raw agility. It played no small part in how I reached Rank 1.

There was even that event where, out of nowhere, they flooded the entire arena and forced underwater combat. The devs insisted the ancient Romans had done it too, but people back then definitely weren't slashing at each other while drowning. I cursed every curse in the book, yet logged in faithfully every single day until the event ended — looking back, I really was something of a game addict. Truly, there had been countless moments. Too many to count.

I was counting those memories one by one when it happened.

My eyes flew open.

Those were the matchmaking NPC's lines, drilled into my ears until they might as well have been nails.

"What? Matchmaking should've been cut off ages ago…?" Server shutdown was truly moments away. Even if an opponent got matched now, the server would die before we could settle anything. And yet I felt a smile creeping across my face before I knew it. Someone's mistake, a bug that popped out at the last second before shutdown. The reason didn't matter one bit. One more match. I get to play one more!

I sprang to my feet and walked out of the shade. Maybe it was the giddy feeling, but the hot sand against my bare feet no longer bothered me at all.

Listening to the matchmaker's countdown, I wondered who my opponent would be.

Rank 2?

Someone with play time as long as mine, so it was possible in theory….

But I'd heard California had blocked access long ago, so probably not.

The Greatsword User had reportedly been arrested.

And the Mad Katana Enthusiast was dead, killed in connection with this whole affair.

Hmm….

I combed through my memories, but everyone I could recall was either in an access-blocked region, or in no state to play anymore — shot dead, locked up, the like.

Well, it didn't matter who it was, so I dropped the thought quickly.

All I had to do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was enjoy myself as much as possible!

The instant the countdown ended, my vision flooded with black. The brief blackout while the arena loaded. When the darkness lifted, I drew my sword in anticipation of my final battle. "?" The blade rang out with a clear, bright note as I drew it with all the swagger in the world — but the place where my opponent should have stood was empty. Are they hiding, waiting to ambush me? The ambush meta had gone extinct a very, very long time ago, so it struck me as odd — though maybe all that reminiscing had me feeling nostalgic. A little wistful. A little excited, even. But no matter how carefully I swept my senses across the surroundings, nowhere did I feel an enemy. Only a soft, humid breeze and the occasional rustle of grass.

Come to think of it…? The arena before my eyes was slightly different from usual. Stone pillars so enormous they looked like towers. The circular arena those pillars enclosed. It should have been familiar — and yet there was an unmistakable difference. One so glaring it was strange I'd never noticed it before. Pillars half-collapsed and crumbled. Vines threading their way between them. Dirt and grass where golden sand should have been. The scene looked like the Einherjar arena several thousand years down the line. That was extremely strange. Changing the PVP map in Einherjar was a rare occurrence. Especially with the servers about to be shut down. "???" And nowhere among those crumbling ruins could I see my opponent.