Immediate Quest: Apologize

The player was new, freshly graduated from the Warriors tutorial, still wearing the standard-issue starter gear, the paint barely scuffed, carrying himself with the particular, unearned confidence that came from finishing a tutorial and assuming it meant something considerably more than it actually did.

He'd spent the last twenty minutes wandering Tabula Rasa's outer districts with the specific, restless energy of someone who'd cleared every tutorial objective and found himself, for the first time, without a clear next step, and clearly decided that boredom was an acceptable excuse for whatever came next.

He found an NPC merchant near the central plaza, an elderly demon setting out a modest display of carved trinkets with the same slow, careful patience he'd apparently brought to the task every single day for years, and decided, apparently, that this was an appropriate target for whatever he imagined passed for entertainment.

"...Hey. Old man. Move your cart, you're blocking the path."

The merchant, entirely unbothered, continued arranging his display, adjusting a small wooden carving until it sat exactly where he wanted it. "There is ample room to walk around, young one."

"I said move it."

"And I heard you," the merchant said, mild, still not looking up. "I simply see no reason to comply."

A small crowd had begun gathering nearby, other players, some clearly regulars given the way they immediately slowed their pace and drifted closer without any particular urgency, watching with the specific, quiet anticipation of people who already knew exactly how this was going to unfold and had no intention whatsoever of spoiling the surprise.

Nobody said anything.

Nobody warned him.

One veteran player leaned casually against a nearby wall, already pulling up what looked suspiciously like a betting interface among a handful of others.

"...Thirty seconds or under?"

"I'll take over."

The new player, emboldened by the lack of intervention, apparently reading the silence as permission rather than the specific, practiced patience of an audience waiting for a familiar show, reached out and grabbed the merchant by the collar.

"...I said move—"

The sky darkened.

Not with clouds. Not with any weather effect the tutorial had ever once mentioned, in any of its considerably more mundane warnings about environmental hazards.

Flies.

Thousands of them, descending in a single, coordinated wave, swarming the player entirely, covering his vision, his character model, every visible surface of his screen in a dense, buzzing, judgmental cloud that showed absolutely no sign of dispersing on its own.

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[QUEST RECEIVED: Immediate Consequence][Objective: Apologize][Time Remaining: Until you figure it out]

"...WHAT — WHAT IS THIS — GET THEM OFF—"

He swung wildly, both arms flailing through empty air, connecting with nothing, the swarm reforming instantly around every gap he managed to create. He tried running, three stumbling steps in a random direction before colliding with a market stall he genuinely couldn't see, and the gathered crowd watched, entirely unmoved, several of them visibly fighting laughter, one veteran leaning toward another with quiet, practiced commentary.

"...First timer."

"Always the same reaction. Give it fifteen seconds, he'll try running."

"Called it."

"Give it another ten, he'll try attacking them directly."

Right on cue, the player drew his starter sword, swinging blindly at the cloud surrounding him, achieving precisely nothing beyond several wasted stamina points and a growing, panicked realization that whatever this was, it clearly wasn't interested in taking damage.

"...Nothing's working, why is nothing working—"

"He hasn't checked his quest log yet," someone in the crowd observed, mild.

"They never do, first time."

Eventually, flailing, disoriented, and thoroughly out of other ideas, the player finally glanced down at the persistent notification he'd been too panicked to actually read, and stumbled, desperate, into the obvious solution.

"...I'M SORRY! OKAY? I'M SORRY, I'LL LEAVE HIM ALONE, PLEASE—"

The flies dispersed instantly, all at once, the sky clearing as quickly and completely as it had darkened, leaving the player standing alone, breathless, thoroughly rattled, in the middle of an entirely unbothered plaza that had, as far as anyone else was concerned, barely paused for the interruption.

[QUEST COMPLETE: Immediate Consequence][Reward: None][Reward: A Lesson, Hopefully]

The merchant continued arranging his trinkets, entirely unbothered by the entire ordeal, as though the last several minutes had simply not registered as anything worth his attention. "Was there something you required, young one?"

"...N-No. No, I'm good. Sorry. Again. Genuinely."

"Apology accepted," the merchant said, mild, finally glancing up with something that might have been the faint, weathered ghost of amusement. "Please do walk around the cart next time. It really isn't difficult."

The player fled the plaza considerably faster than he'd entered it, and the watching crowd, satisfied, drifted back to their own business, the whole event already fading into the same, familiar background noise of a lesson every single one of them had, at some point, learned exactly the same way.

The veteran who'd started the betting pool collected her winnings with quiet, practiced efficiency.

A younger player nearby, clearly new but considerably more observant than the last, turned to a nearby veteran, genuinely curious.

"...Does that happen to everyone who's rude to an NPC?"

"Only the demon-adjacent ones," the veteran said, cheerful. "Been that way as long as anyone's been playing, from what I understand. That's just how he protects his people down there."

"...Which NPC?"

The veteran grinned, flicking one of the newer player's horns lightly.

"You'll figure it out eventually," she said. "Everyone does. Usually the hard way, exactly like our friend here just did."

"Does it ever get worse? If someone doesn't apologize?"

"Nobody's ever actually found out," the veteran said, considering the question properly. "The flies don't tire. Don't lose interest. Don't negotiate. Best guess is it just continues, indefinitely, until whoever's underneath them finally gives in." She shrugged. "Nobody's ever been stubborn enough to actually test the theory."

"...That's a genuinely elegant system, honestly."

"That's the whole realm, from what I understand," the veteran said, already turning to leave. "Efficient. Doesn't waste anyone's time. Gets the point across without anyone actually getting hurt."