Narrative: Stage Cleared WHO: Mike Karasik WHEN: February 17, morning WHERE: Sphinx Dorms
The old arcade game lit up with bright colors and classical retro graphics. A piece of gaming history staring before Mike and one that had his handle, GetRekt, taking up the entirety of the winners chart. Before it had been the name "VAN." Clearing that name the way he did had been the start of his troubles. He just wanted to prove it was him. Video games were his life. For a long time, they were his only friends. Mike doubted that resetting the system would have Van leave him alone, but it may be, as Derrick pointed out, less of a daily reminder of what Mike had done to him. Unplugging it and plugging it back in wouldn't make a difference, so Mike needed to get into the system and erase his scores. The ones that would be pretty much impossible for Van to beat unless he had an absolutely perfect game.
It was a quiet Saturday morning. Most everyone was still asleep and if they weren't, they were off getting breakfast or passing the time elsewhere. Mike approached the arcade machine and the screen reflected in his glasses. He breathed in and out, and then placed both hands on either side of the machine's key configuration. Then he closed his eyes and let his mind . . . talk.
The language of computers was something he and Derrick understood the way someone could understand a person speaking another language. But there was a difference between speaking to another person in binary versus speaking to a computer in it. The computer responded and listened, obeying his commands. It was an old enough system it didn't have the artificial intelligence to question why he was doing what he was doing. It just interpreted commands.
The game's screen became a jumbled mix of pixels. Like someone had kicked it hard enough it cause problems with image processing. Mike's eye twitched, but remained shut. One by one he removed his scores, and once they were gone, he began searching for any sort of memory that it might have. It was a risk to do this for so long. Being in a computer for so long, he'd been warned, could have some dangerous effects. Despite what his own experience taught him, this was a lot of work to be done. His mind searched through the computer memory like someone searching for a lost shoe or a pair of keys. Disheveling things here and there until he found what he needed. The last high score.
Plucking it out, he dragged it to where it used to be, sitting at the top of a pile of other scores. Mike then went about cleaning the mess he made, finding where each thing belonged before opening his eyes and releasing the arcade. The screen returned to normal and when the high score screen came up, "VAN" was now the top score, followed by the other boy's name a few more times. Mike sighed with relief. If this didn't help Van get off his back . . .
"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asked and Mike turned to face who was talking to him. It was another Sphinx student. An Advanced student who spent most of his time with his nose stuck in the pages of astronomy books.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said.
"Your nose is bleeding," he said. Mike's hand went out and touched his nose, feeling the blood there.
"Shit," Mike said and immediately pinched his nose and reached into his pocket for the portable packet of tissues he almost never seemed to be without. He replaced a tissue and added, "Yeah, just a nosebleed. Everything is fine."
Mike was quick to make a hasty exit, giving some medical excuse that was either for bloody noses or mestruation. He didn't really have much time to think about what he was saying other than to get out of the common room. As he made his way back to his room, he could feel the fatigue growing on him. Good thing it was a Saturday and he could just go back to sleep.