Witch of the Web
Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Announcement

Hi everyone! After some feedback, I'm gonna drop this chapter now instead of Monday and delete the original prologue and try and do the info dump a little more organically over the course of the story. I got way too excited to post it before giving it some proper thought!

Chapter 1

Security is an art regardless of what anyone will try and tell you. It takes creativity, dedication, and skill to make the finest defenses known to any Sapien. So it should come as no surprise that I am absolutely mind fuckingly livid as one of my security cameras goes down. It’s a travesty of the highest order and I will not stand for it. Well, I don’t really stand for many things these days, but that’s a whole other matter. 

I wheel my chair over to another security monitor, getting caught on a cable and cursing under my breath, as I watch carefully for signs of who’s disabling them. I really need to get some coverings on these things, but that would require that I invite someone into my sanctum, and that just isn’t going to happen, ever. 

As I do every time I get stuck on something, or am stymied by stairs, or get a pitying look from a stranger, I pull up my bank account in the corner of my vision. So close to a new spine. I just need a few more jobs and I’ll be out of this damn chair. Stupid thing was broken when I got it and isn’t much better now. Am I forgetting something?

Right. Yes. The intruder. 

I manage to spot something on the feed at the last second before it goes dark. It isn’t the culprit, but it clearly tells me who it is. Only one group uses the particular camera hack that is currently blinding me. 

Fucking Loggers.

Members of the Lanadel Oversight Group, or LOG for short, they’re the bane of everything. Imagine giving a bunch jack-booted thugs the goal of policing a world without them having any authority. Now give them an ego to match their false authority, and you get why I hate them.

I glance back at my workstation and bite my lip. My choices are hope that my automated defense stop a Logger, which is admittedly not likely, wipe my drives clean and set myself back hundreds if not thousands of creds, thus further delaying myself from getting a new spine, or I could try option C and try my luck at convincing the Jack they got the wrong guy. Since A is a lost cause and B will probably get me killed anyways when the Logger realizes what I did - Well I guess we’re going with option C.

Fuck. Me.

I turn my computer off and spin around to face the single entrance to my workshop. Before I know it, I’m face to face with the jack-booted, self righteous, curvy, and tall, so very tall. What was I saying? Ok look, she’s gorgeous, and I have a thing for tall ladies, okay? Plus she’s a redhead and she’s got a killer physique. She looks like a fitness model in a perfectly tailored suit. Still, she’s a logger and I really need to not look like I’m perving on her. I’ve been shot for less. 

“Welcome to my shop. Normally I don’t take customers directly, but what the heck, why not make an exception. Name’s Viktor. You can call me Vik. What can I do ya for?” I try to be smooth and sound like I’m in control. It does not work as she just stares at me with a thinly veiled look of disgust. This little staring match goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time before either of us tries to say something. “Look, if you’re not here for a job, and you’re not going to shoot me in the spine or something, please show yourself out,” I say, trying to be at least somewhere polite.

“Viktor Shadewind, I’m going to give you two options,” she growls, like honest to god growls. It’s kind of hot. No! Bad brain, focus. “You will perform a job for me, you will be paid well, and I will leave you to your devices.” 

“What’s option B?” I have to ask. I know what it is, but I like making them admit it out loud. 

“You’ll be arrested and charged with counterfeit webworld access code production, backdoor creation, data theft, possession of stolen data, possession of illegal defense drones and the list goes on. You’ll be imprisoned for life.” Huh. I had thought she’d threaten to beat my ass like most of her buddies do. 

“Soooo, my choices are do my job or get killed right?” Oh I like the look on her face when I say that. “Because you know that’s what will happen if you throw me in a prison, right? I can’t exactly defend myself, so I’ll absolutely get my ass iced. Not to mention, look at me. I’m small and scrawny. Some big burly fucker will probably deflower my chocolate cornhole while they are shanking me.” Now she looks really uncomfortable.

“That’s not -” she starts to say.

“Not what? Not what happens? Don’t make me laugh,” I say,cutting her off. “But you know what, I like living and not having my bowels rearranged by some dude’s XTC 9000: Horse Cock Edition. So tell me what the job is.” 

She clears her throat and gives me a look somewhere between pity and discomfort. I think I prefer the disgusted sneer from before. Still, money is money, and I’m way too close to a new spine to turn down any job, even one from scum of the earth loggers. Though the irony is not lost on me, since it was one of those wack jobs that put me in this chair in the first place. Long story, though, for a different time.

After another needlessly long awkward silence, she pulls out a small datadrive and offers it to me. I take it even though I feel like it could be a trap. It looks super expensive and I’m half tempted to just sell the thing and get out of town. Ah, who am I kidding. I like this shithole too much to leave, so I might as well do the job. 

“I need you to break the data locks on this. They only exist inside of a webworld so you’ll need to -” She really doesn’t need to explain this so I put up my hand.

“Look, Jack, I’ll be honest with you. This isn’t my first job like this. I can handle it. So why don’t you fork over half my pay now and half later so we can skip the song and dance.” I’m filled with so much giddiness as I watch her be disarmed by my charm and wit once more.

“Felicia,” she grumbles. Her name I’m guessing. 

“Look, I really don’t care what your name is. You’re a Logger, a Jack, a Lumberman. You guys shoot guys like me in the spine if we so much as look at you wrong,” I snap. Am I bitter? No, of course not, what gave you that idea? 

“We don’t -” she tries to say, but I cut her off again.

“You don’t what? Break down doors, murder parents in cold blood then when their teenage son stares at you in shock, shoot them in the back as they try and escape out the window? Is that what you don’t do? Because news flash sister, that’s what they did to me. How do you think I got in this chair?” I bark out a harsh, humorless laugh as I stare daggers at her. 

“So why antagonize me?” she asks, her earlier bravado having melted away. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll do the same?”

“Pfft, what? Going to shoot me in the spine again? Go ahead. Hell, just kill me why don’t you. You’d be doing me a favor honestly. I’d be lucky to get out of this trash heap body of mine. Whatever comes after can’t be worse.” I tap the side of my head. “So I’ll be taking my money so you can take your leave. Give me your deets and I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

She looks subdued as she wires me - that can’t be right. That’s fifty thousand credits. I look up at her and she just gives a tired smile. Her contact information quickly follows and she turns to leave.

“One thing,” she says, her voice low and tired. “Don’t tell anyone about this. Keep it quiet and you’ll get another fifty thousand when you’re done. Don’t even tell other loggers. This is just between you and me. Understood?” 

“Yeah, now get going so I can get to work,” I mutter, eager for her to be gone. I need to get this job done. A hundred thousand credits id enough for me to do a full body replacement. I have never liked my body. It’s too hairy in places, too bony and hard, and I hate shaving every day. There’s other things, but I try not to think about those too much. 

The logger leaves finally and I pull up my system and plug the datadrive in. I pull the interface plug from the side of my neck and connect it to my computer as well. Within a few keystrokes, I’m ready to delve into Lanadel. I press the login button and close my eyes as the world fades around me.

****

I breathe a sigh of relief as I open my eyes and see the interior of my lair in Lanadel. It’s a world behind the world. Let me clear that up a bit. Lanadel is a digital world made by AI encoded on the sublayer of reality. Does that make sense? Not one fucking bit! But that’s what the AI, sorry, Digi-Sapiens told us. It doesn’t really matter to me since it works and I love it here.

Deep in the marshlands, there’s a rocky outcropping with a small tunnel leading into an open clearing. It’s like that old movie about that blonde with really long hair. I even have a tower with a hidden entrance. I liked that movie as a kid, so sue me. 

I glance down at my digital proxy body and smile. A while back I had nearly been caught breaking into a secure storage fortress. Well, secure in the loosest definition. It was painfully easy to break into, but in my arrogance I was spotted by one of the guards. Within an hour, my appearance was all over real-space. And since I had just used a basic scan of my body for my proxy body, I had to lie low for months before I could leave my shop. So I had a genius idea to code a new body that nobody would ever identify with me. Simply put, I made a female proxy body. 

It’s important I look nothing like myself. So I took special care to make myself look perfect. My digital form is taller than my real one, but not by much. I’ve got very very wide hips and narrow shoulders. I tend to wear what looks like a sundress while I’m in her, but it’s actually a full set of glamoured armor; it even feels like a dress to me which always makes me smile. Because of the irony. 

Yep. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, I head into my lair’s workshop where the digital likeness of the datadrive sits on a table. I’m a little confused by the way it looks. Usually things like this appear as lockboxes, or treasure chests, or something else of the sort. But in front of me is a featureless gray sphere that just stays perfectly still despite the slight tilt of the surface. 

I give the ball a tap and a ripple of code spreads out to cover the whole surface in firewall runes. Shit. This thing will be a tough nut to crack. Fortunately I’m pretty. Ha! I mean pretty good at this sort of fuckery. Well I’m quite pretty too, at least in here. Like I said, I put a lot of work into my proxy and I’m really proud of it. 

I look at the mirror to the side of my workstation. I really should move that. I step over to move it but get caught looking at myself. Damn I look good. I touch my plump lips and bat my thick lashes and let out a content sigh. Honestly, I’d live in Lanadel full time if I could. But a girl’s gotta eat. Wait no, ugh. I keep doing this. I keep forgetting that I’m a guy, despite the beautiful and comfortable form I wear while I work.  

Grabbing a set of needles, I begin plucking at the once again invisible code covering the orb. Each runic code that I pierce lights up. By using a special thread, I can connect different parts of the defenses to each other, thus creating bypasses. My usual go-to technique for this sort of cracking is what allows me to stand out amongst my peers in this line of work. While they try to manually break each individual lock, I prefer a more - well not subtle, but - ok fine it’s a lazy solution. I automated it. 

Once the runes are all connected just the way I need them to be, I create a latticework of my own code surrounding the orb. It starts rotating automatically as it picks apart weaknesses and slowly unravels the defensive structures preventing me from opening my prize. 

It’ll take a while for my spell to finish. I like calling them spells. Too many weavers prefer being clinical and boring about their descriptions. Fuck that noise. I’ve always loved the idea of magic and fantasy. It’s part of why I love being in Lanadel so much. Anyways, since it’ll take a bit, I decide to indulge in one of my favorite pastimes, dress up. I hurry to the bedroom upstairs and open up my wardrobe. Don’t judge me. It’s perfectly normal to want to wear nice clothes when you have the body to pull it off. Besides, women’s clothes are just so much nicer than men’s. It’s a fact. 

Looking out the window, I double check to make sure my wards are secure. I wouldn’t want anyone interrupting me. Then they’d be all “Viiiiik why do you have a bedroom? It’s not safe to lose consciousness in Lanadel!” and I’d be like, “I don’t care, I hate sleeping in the real world. Waking up to my shitty meatsack body sucks!” Besides, I think people over exaggerate the danger. I’ve never had anything go wrong. Speaking of sleeping, it was starting to get late. I should probably call it a night instead of trying on new outfits. 

Unfortunately that means I will have to pop out of Lanadel to move my body. But the thought of that makes my stomach twist and turn. So, not for the first time, I opt to just deal with the back pain in the morning.

I swapped out my sundress for a silky nightgown and let out a soft sigh of pleasure. The voice I gave myself here always makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

Because it’s a pretty lady’s voice. I’m straight. It makes sense.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I climb into bed and pull the blankets up over me. I glance out the window one last time before reaching under the bed and pulling out a big teddy bear modeled after the one I had as a kid. I snuggle the fluffy stuffy and allow myself to slowly drift to sleep.

I’m awoken by the sound of something crashing downstairs in my workshop. I quickly get out of bed and pull out my trust sword. Unlike most swords in Lanadel, mine is designed to not just cut into a person’s proxy body, but to unleash a virus that will slowly degrade them. It’s nasty business, but I don’t play around. 

Quietly as I can, I creep down the stairs, staying close to the wall. There haven’t been any more crashes since the initial one, so they might know I’m here. I stop at the entrance to my workshop and take a deep breath to steady myself.

I rush into the room and look around for the culprit. Nobody’s here. What the fuck? I turn to look behind me, as that’s usually what happens in situations like this. Nope, not a soul. Either I’m hearing things, or they’re really fucking good. Or they got what they wanted and dipped.

Shit! The orb! 

I turn on the lights and look at my workbench and stare at the now open sphere. Well, there goes my extra fifty thousand. Wait. I hurry over to the nearest window to check my wards. They’re still active. That means - oh fuck no. The orb must’ve had a virus in it that escaped. I knew I couldn’t trust that logger bitch. Probably knew how fucking futile it’d be to get through my wards and tempted me with my one true love. Money. Jokes on her though, I know how to handle viruses in my tower.

With but a thought, my lair’s defenses come online. They make the ones I have in meatspace look like child’s play. The suits of armor that I have decorating the walls and hall come to life and begin scouring the premises for my intruder. 

Knowing that my automated soldiers will take care of things, I take a seat next to the bench and wait. And wait. And wait. They still haven’t found anything. That can’t be right. I’m just about to direct them outside when I feel something land on my lap.

What the fuck?

I look down and see a small fluffy black cat curled up in a ball, purring away. I reach down and pet it. Honestly, it’s a terrible idea but I cannot stop myself. Just like the cats have their motto of “If I fits I sits” I have a motto of “Have cat must pet.” The moment my hand makes contact with the soft feline, a shock runs up my arm. It doesn’t hurt though, which is really weird.

The cat looks up at me, their eyes a bright yellow. I frown. Is this a virus? If it is, I’m doomed. It’s way too cute to kill. I scoop it up and carry it upstairs. I walk right past one of my armored drones and they just ignore the little fluff ball. In fact they seem to be putting themselves away. So weird. I’m just too tired to give a shit.

I crawl into bed with the cat and they position themselves on my pillow. I really should be freaking out more, but I’m a sucker for cats. And I can just tell this one is safe. Better than safe. Whatever I mean by that. 

Soon enough I drift back asleep, content to figure this mess out in the morning. 

End Chapter 1