Charles Golden never imagined he'd end up standing on an apocalyptic battlefield wearing a full-body motion capture suit, while one of the sensors on his thigh slowly peeled off.
— Great — he muttered. — If I die now, at least I'll do it uncomfortably.
Ruins surrounded him. Fire. Screams. A demon was yelling something about another realm. Someone exploded.
Classic Monday.
Mokap looked around, then casually raised a hand.
— Uh, excuse me — he said to the chaos itself. — Is this a cutscene, or are we already in gameplay?
No one answered.
— Cool. Improvisation it is.
A glowing green projectile shot straight at him. Mokap stepped aside—not heroically, not in slow motion—just… stepped aside. Like dodging a badly thrown dodgeball.
The blast detonated behind him.
— Okay — he nodded. — Projectile tracking is trash.
Suddenly, a familiar voice shouted nearby.
— Mokap?!
He turned and saw Johnny Cage—sunglasses, blood stains, confidence cranked to eleven.
— What are you doing here?! — Johnny yelled.
— I was about to ask you the same thing — Mokap replied. — But I see you at least dressed for the occasion.
Johnny stared.
— You're… still wearing the dotted suit.
— This is state-of-the-art motion capture technology — Mokap said defensively. — Well. It was. In 2002.
A sudden strike came from behind. Mokap instinctively ducked. The attacker flew over him.
— Huh — Mokap said. — That hitbox was way bigger than I expected.
Johnny blinked.
— Are you… analyzing the fight?
— Johnny — Mokap sighed. — I've spent my entire life watching how people move as digital models. This isn't combat. This is animation, but it hurts.
Another enemy leapt toward them.
Mokap raised a finger.
— Hold on. One second.
The attacker froze mid-motion.
Johnny's jaw dropped.
— Did you… freeze him?
— No — Mokap shrugged. — Input lag. He stood too close to the edge of the camera.
He casually punched the guy in the stomach. The enemy flew away.
Johnny stared at him.
— Mokap… you know this isn't normal, right?
— Johnny — Mokap said seriously. — In this world, you punch gods in the groin. Don't suddenly become the voice of reason.
Another explosion. Light. Chaos.
Mokap exhaled and slipped into a Wing Chun stance.
— Alright, world — he said, looking upward. Not at the sky. Above it. — If I'm stuck here, we're playing fair.
The air trembled.
— But just so you know — he added — if this is New Game Plus, I'm quitting.
Somewhere deep within reality's code…
something threw an error.