Lightningbreaker

by L. T. Thornhill

  Staring up at the bright blue sky in front of him, Matteo closed his eyes as a cool breeze caressed his skin.

  Hold on a minute. Breeze?

  Matteo’s eyes popped open. He pushed himself to a sitting position and looked around. There was a stone wall to his left—the very same wall he had been impaled on not fifteen minutes earlier. He half-expected to find a golden spear stuck into the chest of a young man somewhere along the brick framework. To his right, the tall pillar jutted out of the ground like a monument, only missing the crazy blonde-haired man on its top.

  This was quite realistic for a dream. Or was it one of those lucid dreams Matteo had heard about? He pushed that idea from his mind. Lucid dreaming was still dreaming. This felt more real.

  Matteo ran a hand along the grass, feeling its sharp contours. His heart was thudding in his chest, a growing sense of trepidation building in his mind. He didn’t know what he was nervous about. All he knew was that his mind might be bouncing between shock and denial.

  Pushing himself to his feet, Matteo took in the sight before him. He knew this vista. In the virtual world of Axis Mundi, he had explored its regions in great detail. There were very few secrets that he was not aware of. Even if he hadn’t experienced an area in the game, he knew all about its mysteries and hidden locations. Right now, he recognized the open fields of the region named Midgard—the region where new players were dropped so they could get a hang of the game and its many components.

  Matteo knew nearly everything there was to know about Midgard. What he couldn’t wrap his mind around was why everything felt so real.

  If this was just a dream, then perhaps he would do well to explore it.

  Another thought sprung into his mind. Maybe there was a better way to confirm if he was experiencing something real or if he was in a world created during his Rapid Eye Movement. He would head to the starter town, a small cluster of old buildings and dwellings that served as a hub for new players. Maybe he would find it empty and that would force his mind to return to reality.

  Then again, was he supposed to be this aware in a dream? He felt as though the more he debated the state of his surroundings, the more his mind should be able to distinguish between a waking world and a dream one. Matteo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Thoughts and questions zipped through his mind, each one vying for his attention.

  A popping noise followed by a gust of wind at his back made Matteo spin around in alarm. He instinctively brought his hands up in a fighting pose that he had once seen in a kung fu movie. His mind told him that he might just look ridiculous, but he ignored the thought.

  An old man who barely reached Matteo’s shoulders stood just a few feet away. There was something oddly familiar about him, but Matteo was too busy taking in the man’s colorful clothing. He was wearing a yellow sombrero with green stripes running along the brim, a red sarape in a colorful geometric pattern, and dusty brown khakis embellished with black floral designs. His feet were sticking out of his black loafers and he wiggled them slightly, as though making them comfortable.

  For a few moments, Matteo had no idea what to say. The scene before him was so bizarre that he was convinced he was indeed dreaming.

  “You must be wondering if you are indeed dreaming,” spoke the old man, his voice a hoarse whisper that oddly sounded clear, like he was close to Matteo and speaking into his ear.

  Matteo fumbled through his mind for a response. He settled for something simple. “Huh?”

  Despite his stature, there was something about the old man that made him seem bigger and taller, like he was a giant and this body of his was merely a disguise. His hands were clasped behind his back and his gaze was piercing, yet non-threatening at the same time. Matteo spotted the age lines on his face, which did nothing but give him a look of strength and wisdom.

  “Listen, Matteo,” said the old man, “I can barely conjure enough power to project myself here. It’s not allowed.”

  Bits of information from Matteo’s memory began falling into place like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He was slowly, but surely, gaining a glimpse of understanding of who the old man might be.

  “You’re a god,” said Matteo, using the first bit of information he recollected.

  The old man gave a quick nod, a small smile that reached his eyes forming on his face. “As expected of the player named Godlike. You have great knowledge of Axis Mundi, mijo.”

  “Wait. You know my player name? What is happening here?”

  The smile didn’t falter in the slightest. It was a comforting expression, one that promised everything would be okay. “You are not in a game anymore, that much I can tell you. I am afraid I cannot stay longer to explain more, mijo. I ask that you go as quickly as possible to the beginner hub deep in the center of the forest. Once there, you must get in touch with—”

  Before the old man could finish his sentence, he exploded into leaves and glowing green motes of light. Matteo covered his face with his hand, protecting his eyes against the dust and leaves that brushed against his face. When he removed his hand, the air had settled. Blades of leaves littered a bare patch of ground a few feet in diameter in front of him.

  Briefly, Matteo stood there, realizing that this was no dream. No dream could be this realistic.

  As he was lost in his thoughts, his eyes focused on the leaves themselves. Something about them tickled his curiosity. When he examined them closely, he noticed that they looked oddly similar to those of the maize plant.

  That was when another piece of memory clicked into place. Matteo knew who had appeared in front of him: Xipe Totec, Aztec God of Agriculture.

  Why the old god had appeared before Matteo was a mystery that he could tackle later. For now, he decided that the best course of action would be to head to Valhalla, the town that served as a meeting point for new players of Axis Mundi.

  Was he a player himself? Could he even call himself that, now that he was actually in a world that was an exact replica of the game he frequently played? Matteo didn’t know, and there would be no point in finding an answer to that question. It seemed more of a philosophical puzzle than a logical one.

  Matteo looked around until he found a line of trees that marked the beginning of a forest roughly half a mile away. Myrkvid, the dark forest. He knew that at the dead center of the forest lay the small town of Valhalla.

  Back when he had first gotten started in the world of Axis Mundi, it had taken him a while to get around. New players were often left wandering the region of Midgard without a proper mode of transport. While other players were often looking to improve their skills or simply unlock new powers and gears, Matteo had spent his time exploring the region. He didn’t want to just traverse the green lands of Midgard. That wasn’t enough. He wanted to know all its hidden secrets.

  Matteo knew from his experience in the game that it typically took him less than ten minutes to reach the line of forests from where he stood. He hoped it was the same in the real-life version of the world, as well.

  Glancing down at himself, he noticed for the first time that he was still dressed in his black sweatpants and green T-shirt. Great. Some good that will do.

  If there were gods, then there definitely were other ‘players.’ Or people. Or whatever they called, well, other people in this world.

  Deciding that he didn’t want to be left out in the open, Matteo sprinted for the trees. With each step, his heart beat faster. He wanted to chalk it up to the adrenaline in his body, but he knew better than that. Some deep-rooted instinct had finally realized that if this world was real, then the dangers it held were real, as well.

  Just when Matteo was about to plunge into the forest and whatever wonders lay within it, a figure leaped out from the crown of a nearby tree. He watched the figure sail over his head and land in a crouch a few feet away.

  A boy with curly black hair who looked to be in his late teens stared at Matteo, his hands holding a carbine rifle like the ones the cowboys used in the old western movies.
A single scope was attached to the weapon and its barrel was pointed straight at Matteo.

  “Wait,” said Matteo, holding up his hands, “I just arrived here. I have no weapons.”

  When Matteo looked at the weapon, a blast of information pushed into his consciousness. Silversky. A long-range rifle given to members of class Zeus. It was a starter weapon, and the scope provided additional magnification to the user. Despite that, the weapon was not all that powerful.

  Matteo wondered what would happen if he got shot. Would he lose Hit Points? Since he wasn’t entirely certain if this was a game, would he start bleeding? The scariest thought of them all—would he actually die?

  Pushing aside his fears, he looked at the boy, whose face showed nothing but grim determination. It seemed he wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger. End it all.

  Then, the boy stood up straight, lowering the weapon and plastering a wide grin on his face. Matteo blinked at the sudden change in personality. It wasn’t what he was expecting.

  “Sorry,” said the boy, placing the gun behind his back, where it remained, perhaps attached to a gun holder of some sort. “I thought you were Agri.”

  Agri. A moniker for anyone who belonged to class Xipe Totec.

  Matteo placed his hands on his hips, allowing himself to exhale in relief. He stood there for a few seconds, lost in thought.

  “You okay?” asked the boy, a frown appearing on his face. The more Matteo heard of his voice, the more he detected a Middle-Eastern inflection. It wasn’t very obvious, but it was there if one paid attention.

  Was that a look of concern or doubt? Matteo couldn’t guess, and he didn’t want to risk his life on assumptions. “Yeah,” he said, racking his brain for an appropriate response. “I mean, yeah. I just thought I was about to get shot.”

  The grin reappeared on the boy’s face. “I guess looking down a rifle’s barrel might do that to you.”

  Matteo nodded, not confident he would say the right thing. This was a dangerous situation. The boy in front of him was definitely hunting Agris. Matteo saw no point in telling him that he had personally met Xipe Totec as soon as he landed in this world. Should he tell the boy that he had met Zeus, instead?

  The boy offered an outstretched hand. “Name’s Boran.”

  Matteo shook it. “Matteo.”

  Boran nodded, as though he found some hidden meaning in the name. “Well, Matteo, I can see that you have no weapon. Did you not meet a god?”

  Matteo caught Boran’s slight hand twitch. Being used to the tricks and tactics of other players allowed Matteo to see reactions that many others would miss. Of course, he wasn’t the only one who could do it, but he was glad he was one of the few who were good at it. He realized Boran might be testing him. His answer might just decide his fate.

  Was Boran hiding another weapon? Matteo couldn’t spot anything other than the rifle at the boy’s back.

  “Honestly, I was still convinced this was a dream until I met you,” said Matteo.

  Boran snorted. “You’re lucky you met us. Or else you might just have been an Agri.”

  Matteo nodded, feigning a deep sigh of relief to show just how fortunate he was. Part of him wanted to distance himself from the boy as much as possible, but another part of him simply wanted to stay. It was far better to be in the company of another than to face the forest alone, especially now that he knew one class was out to get another.

  “Yeah. I could definitely use lightning over corn and wheat growing,” he joked. “At least, that’s what I think Agris do all day.”

  Boran smirked appreciatively. Matteo hadn’t said anything particularly funny, but having a common enemy meant one could laugh at insipid comments just to spite the bad guys. “Now you have a good chance to be on Zeus’ team.”

  For a few seconds, neither spoke. During that time, Boran looked at Matteo like he was evaluating something. He seemed to have come to some mental conclusion, since he placed his forefinger and thumb in his mouth and blew a loud whistle.

  Leaves behind Matteo began to rustle and when he turned around, he spotted a young woman standing near a tree, a Silversky held in both hands. Her jet black hair was pushed back, leading to a braid so long that it circled her neck once, its end draped over one shoulder. Matteo imagined that if she let her hair loose, it might just reach her hips.

  The woman said something that sounded like, ‘Yu ve ni lij,’ to which Boran responded with an ‘Ay vet.’

  “Was that Turkish?” asked Matteo, hoping he had recognized the dialect.

  Boran raised his eyebrows, showing he was impressed. “Do you speak the language?”

  “No,” said Matteo, shaking his head. “I knew a Turkish clan. Quite a good team.”

  “Is that so?” Boran had a smile plastered on his face but doubt creased his eyes.

  The moment would have turned awkward if not for the arrival of the young woman. Boran gave her a look of recognition, a smile of genuine warmth brushing his face. “This is my older sister,” he said, and the woman faced Matteo. “Emiri.”

  Matteo offered a hello but got a quick nod in return; Emiri was merely acknowledging that he existed. She placed the rifle on her back and it was then that Matteo saw the weapon holder. It looked like a strap with a small metallic plate on it, which could be magical and allowed the weapon to click to it. He assumed Boran might have one, too.

  “Where are you headed?” Boran wondered.

  Matteo turned toward the forest. “Straight that way until I reach Valhalla.”

  “Not a bad idea,” said Boran, as though he was some kind of evaluator of good ideas. “You know what? We’ll join you.”

  A look of mock surprise crossed Matteo’s face. “Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you guys away from your hunt.”

  Boran waved his hand in front of his face. “Please. It would be a pleasure to accompany a potential member of class Zeus.”

  The true intentions of the Turkish boy became clear through his statement. Boran was not providing company out of compassion; he wanted to see if Matteo would indeed join class Zeus. If he did, then Boran might probably boast about finding a teammate out in the wild and bringing him safely to the main hub. On the other hand, if Matteo turned out to be an Agri, then he would probably shoot him instantly and claim that he had successfully hunted another opponent.

  Matteo realized that he would be facing a dangerous predicament as soon as he landed in Valhalla. For now, he could use the company. He wasn’t certain who else was in the forest and whether they would be as accepting as Boran.

  “In that case,” said Matteo, sweeping his hand toward the forest like an usher at a fancy gala, “lead the way.”

  Boran gave a quick nod and began walking into the trees. He likely didn’t think Matteo would catch the quick look he gave his sister. “Stay behind me so that I can protect you if we face more opponents.”

  Matteo knew that Boran wanted him walking between the siblings, allowing the brother to walk in the front while the sister kept an eye on his back. They wanted to limit his opportunities to escape and keep at least one pair of eyes on him at all times.

  Knowing that he had no weapon to defend himself, Matteo followed Boran, feeling Emiri’s stare on his back. The trio soon entered the forest and, for a while, Matteo could only heart the sounds of their footsteps. The contrast between the inside of the forest and the world outside was like night and day. Beams of light filtered through small gaps in the crown of the trees. The foliage was thick and, often, Matteo found himself brushing aside leaves or stepping over fallen logs. If he remembered correctly, it was nearly a half-hour walk to Valhalla in the game, but that was because the game adjusted distances to make them shorter. A character could cross a mile in a matter of seconds. Despite that, Matteo knew Valhalla was nearly four miles into the forest. He roughly estimated the small group would reach there in about an hour.

  “It’s funny, isn’t it?” asked Boran, breaking the silence after what seemed like five minutes.<
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  “What is?” asked Matteo, if only to show that he was curious. In his mind, he began to run through scenarios of how he would make it to Valhalla and escape the custody of the siblings.

  “We were all playing a game. Now, we’re in the game. I mean, look around you.” Boran spread his arms wide and turned around in a circle, giving a quick smile when he faced Matteo.

  The boy was right. “I know what you mean.” A thought crossed his mind. “By the way, have you shot anyone?”

  Boran looked over his shoulder and gave a wink. “Can’t tell you all our secrets just yet, newbie.”

  Out of pure instinct, Matteo turned around to look at the sister. He was met with an expressionless stare.

  A low growl stopped all three in their tracks. Matteo quickly crouched down, his long hours of training in the game kicking in. The siblings already had their guns in their hands. Neither looked terrified. If anything, they looked ready. Boran had a flash of excitement in his eyes, as though he couldn’t wait to face the source of the sound.

  To Matteo, the sound meant something terrifying. Something big. He could name the creature, but he hoped against hope that it wasn’t what he had guessed.

  The shape moving between the trees caught his attention. It wasn’t moving in a straight line. The shape zig-zagged from tree to tree, as though playing hide-and-seek. Its movements were quick, faster than the eye could follow. So fast that Boran hadn’t spotted it.

  Besides him, Emiri got down on one knee, raising her rifle to shoulder height and peering through the scope. It looked like she was hoping to follow the movements of the Minotaur, but Matteo knew that it would do no good. She wouldn’t be able to aim properly, owing to the creature’s speed. Any shot she fired would depend on pure luck.

  Without thinking, Matteo sprinted toward the young boy. He wasn’t certain what spurred him to act and he did not care. His focus was on Boran, who was now just beginning to realize that something was headed his way.

  Boran turned toward the shape, moving his rifle to point in the right direction. He was too late. The creature leaped from nearly twenty feet away, hands the size of a human head positioned in front of it, ready to grab its prey. It crossed the distance too quickly for the eye to follow.