Mastermind

by Steven Kelliher

  “You win this round,” Starshot said, though I noted a quiver to her voice. Perhaps she was suddenly worried I would perm her. Accidents happened, after all, and nobody was going to miss a fledgling hero – albeit a powerful one – who expired on the far edge of War Town, where even NPCs seldom roamed.

  “Round?” I laughed, and the blackness of it seemed to strike her, freezing her heart in her chest, “I am afraid you mistake your intent for my own, Starburst.”

  “Starshot—”

  “Whatever,” I interrupted. I shook the gun, watching Starshot track the barrel “Listen, there’s not going to be a round three. I don’t have time to play games with you.”

  “We’re all playing a game,” she said, but I knew she didn’t mean it. I had known it from the moment I’d seen her come crashing through the glass wall of the bank. She was hardcore. Titan Online was as much her life – more so – than anything on the outside. And I was guessing that this nifty little build she had going, white spandex and all, was the best origin story she’d ever get.

  “And whose game are you playing?” I asked. The ire and bitterness in my voice seemed to take her by surprise. She lowered her hand for a brief second and I seized the moment, discharging a blast from the stasis gun.

  The barrel kicked back as the amorphous orb shot out. Starshot didn’t have time to dodge, so she lit her palm and tried to return fire. But she didn’t have the energy, and the ensuing beam was more a short trail of sparks that did little more than make me brush a few dancing kernels of light from my right shoulder.

  When I looked back at the hero, she was held fast, teeth gritted as the field enveloped her completely and stuck her to the spot. Her eyes blinked, not unlike the strobe effect B5 gave off when he was thinking.

  Stasis Effect Successful!

  Starshot stunned for 25 seconds. Immune to all damage for duration. Any attack will break the stasis effect.

  “W-w—” she started. The stasis field made it difficult for her to speak, but not impossible. I wouldn’t have long before she was free again.

  “Go on,” I said, squatting down to meet her at eye level. “Whose game are you playing, here? And don’t tell me your own.”

  Still Starshot frowned, looking utterly at a loss.

  “Dummy.” I nearly knocked her on the head with the handle of the gun, but that would have broken the stasis effect. “Which guild are you trying to join? You’re eager to prove yourself. Question is, to whom?”

  “The…” she started and then squeezed her eyes shut in concentration. “The only one who matters…”

  I shook my head, and while it was partly for show, I truly was disappointed to hear it.

  “Good ol’ Levi,” I said, standing. “They might slap his likeness on a billboard to draw in new Players. Maybe an ad on one of the Titan Online load screens itself, but the man himself doesn’t care a lick about taking on new recruits.”

  I smiled as I saw the truth reflected in her eyes.

  “Which one was it, then?”

  Starshot furrowed her brow. She was straining against the stasis, and light gathered around her body. The field wobbled for a moment but held. Was she strong enough to break free?

  “Who?” I asked, returning to the earlier point in haste.

  “P-prism. Prism.”

  “B?”

  There was a crackle in my right ear as the transmitter picked up the incoming signal.

  “Tier-three hero,” B5 said, his voice sounding anxious. “One of Meteora’s apprentices.”

  I nodded appreciatively. “They really have taken a liking to you.”

  “General, the stasis is about to break,” B5 warned, uneasy with my delay. “Best to—”

  “Yes, yes,” I said, responding to B5 but not minding how mad it made me look to Starshot.

  “They’ll tr… train m-me. I’ll be taking down b-bigger f-fish than you in no t-time.”

  “They’ll train you for a while,” I said, holding up one hand. “But they’ll get bored of you. They’ll send you on a mission that ends up killing you, either because you’re not good enough, or because you’re too good. Good enough to challenge them, entice their sponsors.” I held up the other hand, miming balancing scales. “Who can say?”

  “Who… were you?” she asked, and the question took me by surprise. “What happened to you?”

  I remembered Streak and saw that corner of white masonry crashing towards me for the thousandth time. I remembered the brightly-lit streets of Titan City when I had first run up to Heroes’ Square, first put out a fire on seventh and tenth, first engaged with a villain in Emerald Park. I remembered the first time I had seen Leviathan when I had thought along the same lines as Starshot, flying overhead, his blue cape flapping in the righteous breeze.

  Now that is a hero, I had thought at the time.

  I only realized I had prattled on too long when Starshot's glowing aura went white hot. The timer on the stasis field ran out, but the field didn’t drop so much as break as Starshot’s pent up energy exploded outwards. My health took a beating as the blast picked me up and hurled me, sending me spinning. As I sprawled out on the ground, it was all I could do to pull one of those silver balls from my belt.

  She might have expended a good deal of charge just there, but she was free, and now her confused set of emotions settled on the easiest choice.

  Anger.

  I pressed the button on the grenade and smashed it into the dirt, shielding my eyes as the bright smoke enveloped me. I saw shadows form in the mists. Shadows wearing my likeness, trenchcoats, masks and dark eyes beneath. They streaked out of the cloud like wraiths, and through the dissipating smoke I saw Starshot rain her yellow beams down, slicing through the images as they scaled the walls of debris and darted into the trenches and paths between the hills.

  Starshot’s anger made her reckless. She blasted a series of rays at all of the images streaking out of the mist, but forgot the one standing within it. I seized the opportunity and darted forward, jabbing my sparking spear tip at her chest. Given this build’s lack of physical competence, I was pleasantly surprised to land the blow.

  Starshot: 8% HP

  Starshot has been knocked out of the fight!

  Countdown: 30 seconds to respawn

  That would do it. We were one for one, now.

  Although down on the ground, defeated and crippled from the knockout debuff, Starshot clearly had more to say to me. She spat dirt and dust from her mouth first and then said, “You’re wrong, Despot. They won’t kill me. I’m a hero, like the—”

  “Leviathan is no hero. He’s the opposite, in every way. He is stagnation.” I squatted down once more, closer beside her this time.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Crazy?” I asked, feigning hurt. “Do you know, my dear, how many heroes Leviathan has killed?”

  She tried to shake her head, but it came out like a strained shiver.

  “Killing would lower his tier.”

  I nodded. “It would. If he did it directly. Say one thing for ol’ Levi, say that he is clever. Environmental damage is a hell of a loophole. One of the few things the almighty AI has yet to curtail. In the right hands – or the wrong, depending on your viewpoint – it can render the Fame-Infamy debate moot, and past sins buried, though never washed away. That, and he can always agree with a villain to make the hit for him.”

  I gripped the shock spear, readying it. Blue sparks hissed at its tip.

  “When you respawn,” I said, turning the baton over, “and you’re contemplating your next move, try to remember what I’ve said here today. Put your faith in those more deserving.”

  “Like you?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not here to build false idols. I’m merely here to expose them.”

  As the mist swirled around us and began to dissipate, Starshot looked up at me. I expected to see fear, but what I hadn’t expected was heartbreak. She loved this build. All two weeks of it.

  Her dimming yellow eyes t
racked from my face to the spear I held aloft. I could see the sparking blue reflected in those hopeful orbs, knew she feared I would perm her, and I felt shame.

  I tossed the weapon aside, unable to hide my disgust. It rolled in the dirt and went out.

  “Stay out of my way,” I said.

  I turned and ran, my half-dozen other selves following suit. They only made it a few meters before winking out, one by one.

  The shame faded first. The thrill of my first major win as Despot took longer, but when it faded, it gave way to a strange feeling. Well, not a feeling so much as a blurring of the vision. I thought maybe my equipment was malfunctioning back in the true world, and skidded to a halt on the banks of one of the smaller riverways leading toward the docks.

  I put my hand out and waved at my surroundings. My glove seemed to shimmer as it passed through the nighttime air, and then I smiled as I realized what was happening.

  “Of course,” I said, shaking my head. I should have known better, since I’d already done it four times before.

  The golden outline started at the tips of my gloved fingers and began to spread like wildfire, coating my entire form. I stood and spun, watching as the shimmering cloak enveloped me. I was too caught up in the excitement to search for signs of pursuit. I figured I had put enough distance between myself and Starshot as it was. She would likely respawn back in Titan City anyway.

  When my entire form was pulsating with a dress that would have put a cartoon princess to shame, the veil burst into a shower of sparks. I didn’t feel any different, but as the bright embers littered the sludgy, dead ground around my feet, I knew I had just become more powerful than before.

  Encounter Ends

  Despot vs. Starshot

  Winner: Despot!

  Infamy Reward: High Value + Rivalry Multiplier

  Your rivalry with Starshot has deepened.

  Rivalry multiplier increased to Lvl 2.

  Congratulations! Your Infamy and rivalries have increased sufficiently to advance you to Tier 5

  Base Stats have been increased.

  Threat Index increased!

  New Threat Index: Moderate

  With new strength comes new boundaries. Push yourself further than you have before.

  New Stats Populating…

  Mind: 25

  Brawn: 10

  Agility: 20

  Armor: 10 (+10)

  Charisma: 40

  I had tiered up, and far ahead of schedule. Sure, the gap between tiers rose exponentially with each passing rung of the ladder, but progress was progress.

  “B5 will be so proud,” I said, smiling beneath my mask.

  I started the trek back toward the base, walking with my chin a little higher. I was a tier-five villain, now. Woe be unto those who dared to challenge me.

  I hadn’t had so much fun in ages.

  Fourteen

  Hideous Piteous

  My battleground with Starshot wasn’t that far from the base, but I didn’t head back straight away. Scale had not re-surfaced in the fight, but nothing suggested he’d been knocked out or perm’d either. I decided to check on him, taking a more circuitous route, carving farther north than I needed to on my way back to base.

  This brought me close to the docks where I’d first encountered Sebastian and the gang, and where I had first been encountered by Scale. I told myself it wasn’t empathy that had me stopping off at the overgrown lizard’s abode, and then I questioned why that would bother me, if it were the case.

  The beach where Scale and I had first met was on the south side of the river, directly across from me. I could see Madam Post’s men going about their nightly rounds, checking the alleys for intruders. Most of them were ranging farther south these days, alert for any signs of Blackstrike’s encroachment, but there were still a few carrying flashlights and lanterns, bursting out into occasional peals of laughter as they went about their charge.

  I was standing on a manhole cover that had been haphazardly shut, and by that, I mean it was still off-kilter. I kicked at it, resulting in a hollow ring, and listened for a grumbled or growled response from down below. There was nothing.

  I bent and eased the grate open. It moved ever so slightly more smoothly than it might have just a few minutes before, when I’d possessed a whopping five in the brawn category. Nobody would be confusing me for a brawler any time soon, but I’d take the mild increase gladly.

  I leaned over the entrance, peering into the darkness below, searching for signs of Scale, or some hint that he was there. Perhaps he’d already logged out for the night. But then I heard something shift, and the sound of metal tumbling over itself, like coins.

  About halfway down the rusted old ladder, the uncomfortable thought crossed my mind that Scale might finally have had his fill of me. That he might leap on me in a rage and tear me apart for subjecting him to another one of my brilliant plans in which he was the sacrificial lamb.

  He wouldn’t care that I actually felt bad about it this time. He wouldn’t want to hear that.

  Maybe I’d go with a more aggressive approach, telling him it wasn’t really up to me if he didn’t have what it took to take out a tier-six hero from across the bay with backup ready and waiting.

  I was still partway through making my mind up when my left boot touched the slick stone floor with a wet slap. I didn’t so much hear Scale behind me as feel him. His eyes, that is, boring into my back.

  It was a wonder how some of those weird, almost ethereal real-world senses made it all the way in here.

  “I see you’re alive, friend,” I said, turning with a flair in an attempt to disavow Scale of the notion that I might fear him.

  All in all, the scene before me was less than impressive. At the most, I had expected Scale’s lair to be a smaller version of my own. At the least, something not unlike a finished basement.

  Instead, Scale’s in-game residence was a junction in the sewer network that ran adjacent to and beneath the docks. He didn’t sit on some throne he’d found or fashioned, but rather on a pile of crates and netting. He didn’t have copious riches stacked in the corner, just a sack of bronze whose top glittered in the light of hung amber lanterns.

  It was a color not unlike the beast’s eyes, which watched me steadily, seeming neither angry nor concerned. But certainly not pleased.

  Scale sat in the corner of the intersection, and I craned my neck to see if I could make out anything of interest down the tunnels that broke off from it. The one to the south was empty. Water dripped from the ceiling farther in, likely from the river above. The tunnel to the right was blocked off by Scale’s possessions, or the trophies of the players – no, the NPCs he had killed or robbed. It didn’t seem there was anything more or less worthwhile to see in the other tunnels, and Scale had apparently had enough of my gawking.

  “Another part of the plan?” he asked.

  “What?” I asked, all innocence. I stepped forward, more into the light. He grimaced at the sight of my mask. “Oh, you mean that little episode up above? Truth be told, I didn’t know she packed that much of a wallop.”

  “She nearly perm’d you accidentally less than a week ago,” he said flatly. He looked weak. It would take him some time to recover his HP. Maybe that was why he hadn’t leapt on me. That, and he’d likely noticed my increase in power to tier five shining brightly above my head.

  “Me,” I said, pointing at my chest. “Key word, there. But, as we both know, I am no fighter. Brawn and armor are way down on my list of prime attributes. You, on the other hand—”

  “Yes,” he said. “I got my ass handed to me by a tier-six hero… girl.” The last part seemed to cause him more distress than the first. I frowned at it but let it pass. “I know. Is that why you’re here? To gloat?”

  I opened my mouth, and though Scale couldn’t see it beneath my mask, he knew I was about to say something as I raised my chin and puffed out my chest. His eyes narrowed, but not menacingly, I noticed. Rather sadly, actually.

&
nbsp; I blew out a sigh.

  “No, Scale. That’s not why I’ve come.”

  “Why, then? Another mission for me? Or maybe you have that big blond oaf hiding in one of these tunnels along with his goons, decked out in some new tech from your tinkerer. Can’t say there’s much I could do about it in my current state. Not that I could in my former.”

  “Ah,” I said, coming a little closer. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Scale. I mean, look at this,” I said, sweeping my arms out and affecting a twirl in the center of the sewer junction as if it were a grand ballroom. “Looks like something out of an 80s nostalgia action flick. An underground hideout, complete with—”

  “Nothing,” Scale said. “Complete with nothing.”

  I let my arms drop to my sides and turned back to face him. He was looking at my feet, and I saw that he was perched cross-legged on his jumbled pile of crates and netting. He looked rather young, and rather boyish. It was likely how he sat in the real world.

  “This is my thirtieth origin,” he said without inflection. “Thirty. And I consider it the best. In most of them, I’ve died almost immediately. Walking down the wrong street, sometimes. Picking the wrong fight. Making the wrong enemies, and far too early. Getting bad rolls, or using good ones poorly.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say—”

  “I suck at this game.”

  He left me at a loss for words, which, as you know by now, is rare enough. And he also left me feeling, if it were possible in a virtual world, guilt-ridden for the position I’d put him in.

  Scale wasn’t hiding in a sewer on the edges of War Town because he was biding his time for some great expansion. He wasn’t leeching off of a low-level NPC narrative loop to stockpile bronze so he could buy his way into a guild or outfit a base or buy gadgets and armor. He was, quite simply, hiding.