The legendary cookie buff was a warm, pleasant feeling in the back of Chris's mind. The +10 EP Regen buff was still active, a little green icon ticking away in his HUD, and he felt a calm, focused energy he hadn't experienced since... well, ever. He had returned from Mrs. Gable's house a hero, his inventory flush with high-grade polymer and his belly full of legendary baked goods. He had successfully completed two quests, gained a solid chunk of XP and Community Standing, and had even acquired a new ally. It had been, without a doubt, a most productive afternoon.
He was back in his bedroom. The taste of the chocolate chip cookie still lingered on his tongue, a happy memory of a buff well-earned. He was about to celebrate his successful day by diving back into the world of Vexlorn when a new notification popped into his vision.
It was the friendly, remedial blue and white of the tutorial quest chain.
[Tutorial Quest Chain Updated: RML for Retards]
Chris chuckled. He was starting to develop a strange, fond affection for the quest's deeply insulting title. It was a gentle reminder from the System that he was, in the grand scheme of things, a complete and utter novice.
[Lesson 2: Your First Original Script]
[Objective: Write and execute a script that causes a designated target object to emit the audio phrase "Hello."]
[Designated Target: [garden_gnome_mgable_01]]
[Reward: 150 XP, +50 RML Comprehension, Scripting Unlocked]
He read the objective, a surge of confidence warming his chest. This was the next step. He had successfully executed a pre-written function. Now, he had to write his own script. It was a simple, classic tutorial progression. And the target... Mrs. Gable's garden gnome. The System was clearly building on his recent experiences, using familiar NPCs and locations for his training.
The reward was substantial. 150 XP was a nice boost, but the +50 RML Comprehension was the real prize. That was skill points, a direct investment in his ability to understand the universe's source code. And the final reward, Scripting Unlocked, sounded like a major milestone. It sounded like he was about to take the training wheels off.
Along with the quest, a new feature was highlighted in the [Scripting] tab that had appeared. The tab was labeled [Command Console]. A helpful System tooltip, the kind that always appeared when a new feature was unlocked, materialized next to it.
[Tooltip: The [Command Console] allows for the direct, real-time execution of RML commands. Enter valid code and press [EXECUTE] to run. The System will attempt to parse and run all entered commands. Invalid code will return an error.]
Chris stared at the tooltip, his confidence swelling into a dangerous overconfidence. A command console. A live terminal. He had used things like this in games before, typing in cheat codes or spawning items. iddqd. motherlode. How hard could it be?
There was no mention of a safe practice environment, no tutorial sandbox where he could test his code without consequences. This was a live-fire exercise. But the task was so simple. Make a gnome say "Hello." After successfully diagnosing and repairing a real-life computer for a grateful elderly woman, this felt like a triviality. He was a wizard, after all. Mrs. Gable had said so herself.
He sat down in his gaming chair, a smug grin on his face. This would be easy.
He opened the [Command Console]. The interface was stark and minimalist. It was a simple, black, translucent window with a single, blinking white cursor, waiting for his input. It looked like the command prompt from an old DOS computer. He thought for a moment, his brain, now in "tech wizard" mode, trying to formulate the most logical, efficient command. He needed to target the object, and then he needed to tell it what to do. Simple. Subject, verb.
He began to mentally type, the white text appearing on the console as he thought it.
garden_gnome_mgable_01.speak("Hello")
It was elegant. It was intuitive. It was exactly how a command like this would be structured in any modern programming language. He had the object's unique ID, a function he was guessing at (.speak()), and the parameter, the string of text he wanted it to say. He admired his handiwork for a moment, a perfect, single line of code.
He mentally hit the glowing [EXECUTE] button at the bottom of the console.
The command line returned an instant red error message directly below his input.
[ERROR at Line 1: Object ID must be defined as variable. Did you mean 'var gnome = get_object_by_id("garden_gnome_mgable_01")'?]
Chris's smug grin vanished. He stared at the error message, a feeling of personal offense washing over him. The System wasn't just telling him he was wrong; it was correcting his grammar. It was the cosmic equivalent of a pedantic English teacher marking up his essay with a red pen. Did you mean...? The passive-aggressive tone was infuriating.
He groaned. Of course. He had to declare the variable first. It seemed like a basic rule of programming. There had been no real-world effect. The System's syntax checker had caught his mistake before it could cause any problems. But the immediate, pedantic nature of the feedback was unpleasant.
Fine. He would play by the rules.
He cleared the console and started again, this time using the System's own condescending suggestion.
var gnome = get_object_by_id("garden_gnome_mgable_01")
gnome.speak("Hello")
Two lines. Still clean. Still logical. He had defined the variable. He had called the function. This had to be it. He hit [EXECUTE] again.
Another red error message.
[ERROR: Function 'speak()' not found on object of type 'Statue_Lawn_Ornament'.]
Chris's frustration began to mount. Okay, so .speak() wasn't the right function. That was fine. It was a guess, after all. He just had to find the right one. He was a wizard, and wizards had to experiment with their spells.
He spent the next hour fighting a losing battle with the Reality Markup Language, live in the console. The process was a frustrating back-and-forth of trial and error.
He tried gnome.play_audio("Hello").
[ERROR: Function 'play_audio()' requires parameter of type 'Audio_File'. Parameter of type 'String' is invalid.]
He tried gnome.emit_sound("Hello").
[ERROR: Function 'emit_sound()' requires pre-existing 'Audio_Emitter' component on target object.]
He tried gnome.talk("Hello").
[ERROR: Function 'talk()' not found. Did you mean 'converse()'? Function 'converse()' requires target object to possess [Sentience] trait.]
With each new, unhelpful error message, his frustration grew. He felt like he was trying to communicate with an alien, a deeply unhelpful, literal-minded alien who refused to give him a single straight answer. He was working on a "live server," and while the System's safeguards were clearly preventing any real-world glitches from his bad scripting, the pressure was still immense. He was failing the universe's easiest RML tutorial quest, and the command console was keeping a detailed, permanent record of his every stupid mistake.
He slammed his fist on his desk, a muffled thud that sent a tower of empty Rocket Riot Red cans tumbling to the floor with a metallic clatter. He was a Level 7 Arbiter. He had repaired the entire town. He had faced down a monster made of gossip. And he was being defeated by a garden gnome.
Defeated, he was about to give up. He was about to close the command console and go back to Vexlorn, a world where the spell descriptions were clearly written and the tooltips were actually helpful. He leaned back in his chair, a wave of mental exhaustion washing over him.
He thought about Vexlorn. He thought about his character, x_CyrisWarden_x. He thought about the game's complex systems. You couldn't just equip a two-handed battle axe on a rogue. The rogue class didn't have the skill proficiency for it. You couldn't put a high-level enchantment on a low-level piece of gear. The item didn't have enough enchantment slots. A player couldn't equip a sword on a character who didn't have a "weapon slot" first.
And then, it hit him. A flash of insight so clear, so simple.
The problem wasn't the command. The problem was the object.
The gnome couldn't speak because the gnome had no speaker. It couldn't play audio because it didn't have an audio file. It couldn't emit a sound because it didn't have an audio emitter. He had been trying to force a function onto an object that was not equipped to handle it. He had to add the component first. He had to give the gnome a weapon slot before he could give it a weapon.
A slow grin spread across his face. He finally understood the logic.
He stood up, a new sense of purpose surging through him. He had to get closer to the target. He had to be sure. He walked out of his room, down the hallway, and out the front door. He didn't go to Mrs. Gable's yard. That would be too suspicious. Instead, he walked to the edge of his own lawn, hiding behind the thick, leafy cover of a maple tree that stood near the property line. From here, he had a clear, unobstructed view of Mrs. Gable's perfectly manicured front yard.
Mrs. Gable was there, kneeling in one of her rose beds, wearing a pair of thick gardening gloves and a wide-brimmed sun hat. She was humming to herself as she snipped at the roses with a pair of small shears. The garden gnome, with its cheerful, painted-on smile and its tiny watering can, stood a few feet away.
He took a deep breath, the cool afternoon air filling his lungs. He opened the [Command Console]. His mind was clear, his purpose focused. He began to type, the lines of code flowing from his mind.
var gnome = get_object_by_id("garden_gnome_mgable_01")
gnome.add_component("Audio_Output")
gnome.speak("Hello")
He reviewed the code. It was logical. He hoped that it was correct. He had added a new component to the object, a simple audio output. Now, the .speak() function should have a valid component to work with.
He held his breath and mentally hit [EXECUTE].
This time, there was no error.
A tiny, almost imperceptible portion of his EP bar drained away. The cost was minimal.
In Mrs. Gable's front lawn, the garden gnome, the cheerful, smiling, inanimate ceramic statue, whispered.
"Hello."
The voice was small, barely audible, a faint, tinny low-quality sound like a voice coming from a cheap pair of old headphones.
Mrs. Gable froze. Her hand, holding the gardening shears, stopped mid-snip. She slowly straightened up, her back stiff. She tilted her head, a look of confusion on her face. She looked to her left. She looked to her right. She looked up at the clear, blue sky.
Her eyes finally landed on the smiling ceramic gnome. She stared at it for a long, silent moment. She took a step closer, leaning in, as if she were expecting it to say something else. The gnome, of course, remained silent, its painted smile unchanging.
A glorious ding sounded in Chris's mind.
[Quest Completed! 150 XP Awarded!]
[+50 RML Comprehension]
[Scripting Permanently Unlocked!]
Chris stifled a laugh, clapping a hand over his mouth to keep the sound from escaping. He had done it. He had written his first piece of original code, and he had successfully executed it on the live server of reality. He felt like the world's most powerful, and most ridiculous script kiddie.