External Threat (Reality Benders Book #2) LitRPG Series

by Michael Atamanov

  “Gerd Gnat, your friends from Gerd Setis-Vir will be here soon! No matter what, they will come here to get their temporary passes, so you can just wait for them to catch up to you.”

  Just what I needed, a meeting with “my pirate crew!” And as if just the pirates weren’t enough, the fifteen minutes since I’d killed that overgrown cat were up. And the most obvious place for the enraged Gladiator to look was the registration desk, a required stop for any station visitor. It was dangerous to stay here, and just plain dumb. So I made an excuse that I wanted to be alone and was sick of talking with the boisterous pirates. I asked the Translator not to tell them I was here, bid the orange cat farewell and hurried back out the glass doors.

  Chapter Twelve. Fox the Space Fox

  WHAT TO DO if the Geckho never came back for me? Such an outcome looked highly possible, and I didn’t even have a near appreciation of what I would do. Probably, I would have to find a way back to my home planet. First at least, I’d have to get to a Geckho space port, then I would practically be home. After that, I’d get back to Human-3 territory somehow.

  It was a good plan, but as usual the devil was in the details. What did they call my home planet, and where was it located? Sure, in the real world it was called Earth, the third planet in the Solar System, which was in the Local Interstellar Cloud of the Local Bubble in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. But in the game that bends reality? Even if the stars in this virtual world were like the real world (which was nowhere near certain; back on my first day in the game, I noticed there wasn’t a single familiar constellation in the sky), what were they called in Geckho? And that was to say nothing of Miyelonian, which I didn’t know a lick of! I had no idea, even worse, I didn’t have a clue who to ask.

  After all, it wasn’t enough to simply know the “address” of my home world, I needed to somehow get there, into the exclusive zone of the Geckho, where starships of other races were not allowed. And first I had to leave the Medu-Ro IV station, which was under control of the less than law-abiding Free Captains, who were primarily of the Miyelonian race. Now that was a real humdinger...

  I had to stop thinking, though because my character’s hunger bar, which had been blinking frantically for some time reminding me to have a bite, was now down to twenty percent and had changed to red. At the same time, I got an alarming system message:

  ATTENTION!!! Your character is starving!!! While starving, Endurance and Magic points will not be restored, regeneration will be suspended, and positive effects of medicines and antivenoms are only half as powerful. When your hunger bar reaches zero, critical malnutrition is triggered, causing a gradual loss of Health Points.

  Just what I needed... Sure, I had two briquettes of dried rations in my inventory, but I decided to hold onto them for a direr circumstance. I was reminded that, when I left the elevators, one of the many arrows pointed to a “Cafe,” so there must have been somewhere for a hungry traveler to have a bite around here. I just had to find it.

  Well, well! I stopped in indecision, because the hallway led me into a spacious brightly lit room, which was at least as large as a soccer field. Tall glowing columns, decorative stone structures, lots of bright multicolored flickering signs, even a glistening fountain in the middle of a pool of pink water. Pretty! This must have been the main room of the residential floor where the crews of docked starships congregated because there were tons of creatures of all kinds of space races.

  Probably, the innumerable inscriptions and information stands with flashing and blinking multicolored rectangles had plenty of information I might find useful, but I didn’t understand one iota of Miyelonian...

  I stopped, admiring the grandeur and trying to discover something that even distantly resembled a cafe or restaurant among all the wonderment. Or, failing that, I hoped I’d at least see one of these crazy creatures chewing or swallowing. But no, I couldn’t see a thing...

  Successful Perception check!

  Failed Agility check!

  Clearly, there were usually idiots standing around with their mouths agape here because the local pickpockets quickly noticed me. I almost missed a small and nimble Miyelonian sticking his clawed hand into my backpack. The lean and disheveled brownish gray cat immediately ran away with a folded bit of paper, stashing it in his belt pouch. How had the thief managed to sneak up to me unnoticed?! And, much more importantly, what exactly had he taken???

  The little thief had moved so quickly that there was definitely no reason to run after him, especially because I couldn’t jump over obstacles and clamber up vertical stone columns and statues. But I couldn’t allow the thief to just make off with my stuff unpunished. So, not giving a hoot about the safety of the many onlookers, some of whom were just talking, while others actively cheered on the nimble pickpocket’s escape, I pulled out my Dark Faction pulse rifle.

  He was already two hundred feet away. The thief froze for a few seconds on the very top of an abstract stone statue, looking around for a convenient escape route and wanting to see if he was being chased. However, he really shouldn’t have stopped, because I took my chance and shot! Wham! Hit!!! A bright beam stitched through the Miyelonian’s left leg just below the knee!

  Eagle Eye skill increased to level forty-seven!

  Rifles skill increased to level forty-two!

  Sharpshooter skill increased to level twenty-two!

  Now you won’t get away! Not dropping the rifle, I unhurriedly and confidently started forward to shouts of admiration from the crowd. The thief was still standing in the same place and didn’t react to my beckoning him down. All the worse for him! I’d already reloaded, and it took me just one shot to get the petrified thief down on the ground. The beam sliced through the runaway’s right leg this time. The thief stumbled and collapsed right at my feet. I placed my heavy military boot on the cat’s neck and pushed the unlucky runaway hard against the floor. The Miyelonian didn’t even try to move and only whimpered in fear and pain. So, who did I have here?

  Tini Wi-Mauya. Miyelonian. Pride of the Heavenly Warrior. Level-17 Thief.

  Just seventeen? I somehow felt offended; this wretched whelp tried to rob me, a respected level forty-five Gerd?! Also, the Miyelonian looked frail. He was small, emaciated and pitiful. Clearly, this wasn’t an adult, just an underaged youngling or even a baby. My anger instantly vaporized, so I changed my mind about cutting off his tail. I mean, would that even count as a trophy? The tail of a weaker enemy, and quite a mangy one at that!?

  Nevertheless, I had to punish this pickpocket somehow, otherwise he and others might get the idea to test me again. I browsed through the thief’s bag at my leisure. Some rags, a small knife, a leather bag, a glass cutter... a heavy bag of platinum powder??? So that’s what he pilfered! I wonder if the little thief managed to figure out what it was? Did he have the Intelligence to identify the precious metal or not? The question was of utmost importance. It would be quite the problem for me if the news spread that a human named Gnat had a pack of platinum! I quickly put the stolen item back in my backpack and kept digging.

  A crowbar, a throwing knife, an unusual flashlight, gloves for clawed fingers, a roll of plastic bags... a whole set of thief’s tools as it turned out, but I didn’t take them, not wanting to deprive a poor kid of his only means of providing for himself. I discovered a wallet with thirteen crypto and, as Ayni had just showed me, transferred twelve of them to me. The unfortunate thief didn’t have anything else of interest, and I took my boot off his neck. I gave the Miyelonian a good little kick in the butt, sending the cat right into the fountain of pink water, then I turned around and walked away. No one obstructed my exit, and the onlookers actually seemed impressed with my “performance.”

  Fame increased to 38!

  Authority increased to 1!

  Authority increased to 2!

  ATTENTION!!! You have unlocked the Authority bonus for high-profile players. Positive Authority makes you more likely to succeed in negotiations with neutral or friendly NPC�
��s, and also has a direct effect on any player’s opinion of you and the loyalty of your allies.

  I had to admit, I didn’t understand. Sure, the NPC part made sense. The game algorithms simply took positive Authority into account and made bots more talkative with a Gerd, but how did it work on living players? Could an Authority stat, which players couldn’t see, really influence the behavior and word choice of an intelligent being? Strange, to put it lightly...

  And then, as if the game was sick of picking on my lost and hungry Gnat, my nose caught the scent of food! The glorious pleasing smell of roasting was coming from a building along the wall of the large room. I sharply changed direction and headed toward it.

  * * *

  THE HARDEST PART was not what you might expect. In fact, I had no trouble finding something edible among the unfamiliar dishes or explaining what I wanted to the monolingual Miyelonian worker. The real struggle was finding a place to sit. The cafeteria was just so packed with space travelers! My cardboard tray laden with bulbs of bright and bubbling victuals, I spent a long time walking down narrow passages between occupied tables. Some hissed at me threateningly, others roared, squeaked, or waved their tentacles, paws or wings, all trying to communicate that a place was taken. Next to some of the tables, there were chairs and even sofas. Other customers were sitting right on the floor. I would have been fine with either option, but there was just no space.

  Finally, I got lucky. In a gloomy back corner, a group of Meleyephatians, who looked like huge human-height spiders in helmetless spacesuits, just happened to finish their meal and got up from a knee-high table, throwing their disposable plates in the trash sorter. With my tray in hand, I hurried to take their place, but was a bit too late. Already about to place my tray on the low table, I looked down and discovered that there was a strange furry creature with intelligent and vivacious humanlike eyes sitting on the other side. How did it get in front of me? Very strange. I figured I’d have noticed if something passed me on the way to the table. Maybe it was just sitting there with the huge eight-legged Meleyephatians?

  I couldn’t read any data about this strange creature, although that didn’t mean much. I had already noticed that many of the creatures I came across on the Medu-Ro IV station blocked their information. Perhaps there was a special skill that could hide it, or maybe it came from a suit or other item, but the identity of almost every third inhabitant of the pirate station was a mystery.

  The creature at the table looked somewhat like a red fox. Actually... why beat around the bush? That’s exactly what it was. An everyday terrestrial fox, even if it was too big and way out here in space. And its eyes... I would put my head on the chopping block to bet that they’d changed! Now they were animalistic yellow eyes that didn’t even look remotely human! Yikes, how can that be?!

  As the muted scene stretched on, I started speaking Geckho in a peaceable tone, not especially hoping for a response:

  “You’ll have to excuse me, I didn’t notice this table is was already occupied...” I sharply went silent because I noticed that the odd fox didn’t have a tray.

  What was it doing, if it wasn’t going to eat? Was the fox just holding the table for the other members of its crew? Or was this just a silent pet, guarding a table for its master? I turned but didn’t see anyone coming with a tray. And overall, this table was in the very farthest dark corner of the dining hall. What happened here wasn’t even visible from the main room.

  Danger Sense skill increased to level twenty-two!

  Not understanding the source of the threat, I adjusted my left hand’s grip on the tray. With my right, I felt for the Dark Faction pulse rifle. But the presentiment of danger, which came over me with a wave of cold, retreated just as quickly without a trace.

  “Please sit, Gerd Gnat. It’s really no trouble.”

  That was unexpected. The fox had a pleasant feminine voice and spoke very cleanly-accented Geckho. She had clearly spent some time among them. I was even more surprised to see that I could now read a bit of information:

  Name [undetermined]. Morphian. Clan [N/A]. Class [undetermined]. Level [hidden].

  I set the tray down and sat right on the floor, crossing my legs. The fox, watching my reaction very carefully, noticed my interest and hurried to explain.

  “It seems to me you do not comprehend who I am, and so I had to reveal some of my information. I am a Morphian, one of the few surviving members of an almost extinct race.”

  “Who... drove your race to extinction? And why?” my voice shuddered treacherously because the question was very important and even, God forbid, relevant to humanity itself.

  Before answering, the fox extended a hand and took one of the glass flagons off my tray without asking permission. She took a few big gulps of the thick bubbling substance, which had a consistency and smell very much reminiscent of apple sauce. After half draining the bulb, she froze and looked at me.

  “Don’t worry, Morphian. Treat yourself to whatever you like. If there isn’t enough, I’ll go get more.”

  “Thank you, Gerd Gnat. I’ve been pained by hunger for some time.” The Morphian set the empty flagon aside and immediately grabbed another full of blood red liquid that smelled of citrus.

  I didn’t waste any time and followed my new friend’s example, gulping down some grub. The Morphian then, very successfully imitating human emotion, gave a heavy sigh and answered my earlier question:

  “Our planet was discovered by the Cleopians one hundred fifty tongs ago, and we entered the game that bends reality brimming with vigor, hoping to discover new knowledge and travel through space. But our planet’s immunity period came and went, and the Cleopians were just vassals of the even stronger Miyelonians, so they couldn’t really help us. The Miyelonians themselves couldn’t be bothered. So in the game, we were swept away by the Meleyephatian horde. The battle was short and hopeless. All at once, innumerable invading starships appeared, orbiting my home planet. Events in the game are always reflected in reality, so it was all over very soon... “

  The fox stopped her story at the most interesting part and grabbed the last container of food unceremoniously off my tray as I was extending a hand for it. I didn’t get mad, just asked the Morphian not to go anywhere and came back shortly with another tray, fully laden with food. This serving cost four crypto, which equated to twenty-eight Geckho crystals. Sure, it was pricy, but the unique intel about space politics and the relationships between space races was worth much more than that. The Morphian gave a favorable nod after seeing the second helping and continued:

  “At first, the Meleyephatians treated us bearably, and even included us in their horde of subject races. There, we tried to prove our worth, ruthlessly enslaving and exterminating other races together with the rest of the horde. But one day, our masters decided they didn’t like our ability to take any form, and the Morphians were declared dangerous parasites subject to extermination. The few who survived took shelter inside the game that bends reality. They learned to hide and travel illegally on alien starships and eventually taught their children how to do the same. Now, Morphians are little different from NPC’s. We cannot leave the game. The real world is lost to us. Morphians were declared outlaws in all Meleyephatian and Trillian space. And here, among the Miyelonians, no one tries to hunt us, but we aren’t especially welcome either.”

  “Wait, wait...” I was very intrigued by a purely technical aspect of the Morphian’s tale, “does that mean you have never left the game? Do you even have a material body? As far as I’ve heard, it degrades fairly quickly. So how do you even know you would be able to leave into the real world?”

  “I don’t know, I just believe,” the fox said, looking embarrassed. Then she lowered her voice and continued. “No Morphians alive today can say for certain what would happen when leaving the game, even though we still do have the option in the menu. Everyone who has tried never came back. Some believe that it is a final end for those who tire of the never-ending cycle of deaths and rebirths
. But our whole faith is based in the idea that, one day, we will reenter the real world and obtain a new home planet.”

  The issue was clearly difficult for her, and the fox was plainly sad. So, I tried to change the topic to something less fraught:

  “Say, why is your name displayed as ‘undetermined?’ Do Morphians not have names?”

  “Quite the opposite. We have hundreds and even thousands of them. But, Gerd Gnat, how would you speak to me if my name was, let’s say, U-owwuu Oh-ouuu-iu or Shishishash Shsha U-shshsh-shi, or just a set of twenty-seven hexadecimal numbers? So, I always give myself a name and appearance that will be pleasing to my company. Your consciousness told me that humanity would like the look of something inoffensive big eyed and fluffy. So, for you, I look like a sweet little animal, even though I don’t know what it’s called. Anyway, if a Morphian senses rejection during a conversation, they take it into account and quickly adapt to whoever they’re talking to.”

  By the way, the Morphian was changing shape as we spoke. It was imperceptible and gradual, but now she was no longer a wild animal, but a much more anthropomorphized creature expressing vibrant emotions with its face. I could still easily tell it was based on a red fox, sure. It had pointy ears and some fur, as well as a long tail. But the head changed shape, the eyes and neck became humanlike, and the body took on a shapely feminine aspect. That created a strange animal human hybrid, a made-up race that should probably have been called a “furry.” But the anthropomorphic fox didn’t inspire disgust or negative emotions. It was actually the opposite. I felt at ease. But what did that mean? Had she pulled this image from my mind?! Let’s check!

  “I don’t like talking to someone without knowing their name, so I’ll call you Fox. That’s what you are, after all, so it’s what I’ll call you.”

  “Sure, no problem,” she snorted. “Fox is no worse than any other name.”