by Noam Oswin
“Thank you,” Juma responded.
The gathered recruits, began to snicker and laugh. “Saintarelli has a crush!”
Ah. Yes, it did seem that way, didn’t it? I hid my amusement, cleared my throat and backed away, putting my hands behind me. Vik stared at me as if I’d grown two heads. I didn’t look at him.
Something told me that I was supposed to meet Juma. I didn’t understand it myself. I didn’t know why. It felt as if meeting him was merely something that was supposed to have happened a long time ago, and yet, something that didn’t. It wasn’t déjà vu or jamais vu – but some odd, twisted version of it.
“Well,” came Juma’s voice. “With that display… I suppose I don’t have to guess anymore why you two are late.”
Vik’s face turned a furious shade of red as the gathered recruits laughed and pointed. I rose my brow at the display. Oh, they think Vik and I were having sex?
“Fuck you Juma!” Vik swore.
“That’s against AAA regulations. Also, I’m partial the prettier sex.”
The laughs rowed again, and Vik’s face burned even hotter.
“Prettier? Is that what you think Juma?”
The laughter died with the arrival of a feminine voice. Albeit I possessed the memories of her existence, it did not quite make up for the appearance of the girl before me. I wagered she was nineteen, perhaps twenty. Her hair was, to my surprise, silver. Not gray from age, but possessed the sheen of fine cutlery. Her features were soft and delicate, so well-proportioned and symmetrical that it was hard to find a single flaw or blemish. Her eyes were a rich electric blue, stern and focused.
[Alphaphilia’s Black Sheep]
[The Discarded Heir]
[AAA Rising Star]
Sophia Alphaphilia
Lv. 44
Well, well, well – what do we have here?
Juma let out a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a sigh. “There’s an exception for every rule.”
She crossed her arms. “And I take it you mean to imply that I’m the exception?”
“There is no correct answer to that question.”
He cleared his throat, crossed his arms and exhaled, before turning his attention back to Vik and I. “Well, what are you two waiting for? Get into formation.”
Vik grit his teeth, cursing and muttering underneath his breath. He tossed a heated glare to Juma, before tossing one to me as well. “Don’t fucking follow me.”
“Oh, a lover’s quarrel!”
“Fuck you!”
“That’s against regulation!”
Ignoring the laughs at his expense, I searched Neo’s memories for what formation I was supposed to get into. Standing in an ordered line was an odd experience, particularly because I had no military training to speak of, and had not experienced such a thing at the schools I attended. However, I had Neo, and I used his memories as a guideline.
Less than two minutes after everyone gathered, I noticed that we were arranged in an amazingly efficient order. Standing at attention, chests out, gaze forward, not tightly compacted together, yet, not spread far enough that we wouldn’t be able to see and hear what was going on at the front.
There were two individuals at the front. Juma and Sophia, the two highest level recruits gathered as I soon realized.
“TEN – SHUN!”
The call came with the sound of the stamping of feet against the earth. The recruits moved to immediate standing at attention.
“EASE!”
The stamping of feet a second time. Hands went behind our backs, clasped in a drill-general style.
“SHUN!”
Again, the stamping of feet.
“EASE!”
The relaxed, yet still formal stance.
“A – A – A!”
“OVERCOMING ADVERSITY!” the cries came.
“AAA!”
“A – A – A!”
“OVERCOMING ADVERSITY!”
“LANCE BRIGADE!”
“LIVE TOGETHER, DIE TOGETHER!”
“LANCE BRIGADE!”
“LIVE TOGETHER, DIE TOGETHER!”
Keeping suspicion off me required following the chants. My understanding of the Alhamisians increased, as I noticed how each response that followed the inciting announcements increased in fervor. There was an odd sense of group camaraderie within the Lance Brigade, along with a sense of pride and identity. As if to be within that group made them different, special, from everyone else on the outside of it.
I knew nothing of their military structure, but I could make educated guesses as I searched Neo’s memories. Levels were important, and the individuals with the highest level in each Brigade was made the de-facto leader or (Captain) of the Brigade. Achievements and merits were equally as, if not more important, than levels, and slaying nightmares was the fastest way to earn both.
Their performances were ranked, scored and recorded on the ‘Leaderboards’, with each AAA soldier having a Nightmare Kill Count of varying levels and types of nightmares, across different tiers. From Neo’s memories, the current AAA soldier with the highest kill count was –
Not Hoplite?
Someone called General Luxeme Vi Engarde. Commander of the Seven Amendments.
Interesting. Very interesting.
“As it stands, we had four more would-be deserters of the Lance Brigade,” Juma’s voice cut across the crowd, causing a silent swarm of murmurs.
“Had, being the keyword.” He continued. “They are, fortunately, no longer among us. Sophia and I were able to find and put them down before that could happen.”
There was a palpable air of relief that shot through the crowd. My lips twitched. I searched Neo’s memories, and the explanation came to me. Deserters are killed or handed over to the Eminency of Penance – but with the Lance Brigade –
Hoplite threatened that if one member of the Brigade deserted, he would take it to mean all members deserted, and all members would be executed. The AAA was unexpectedly more draconian than I anticipated. Then again, they were a military force that developed in a world with horrific nightmares like Giggle and Apophis. I couldn’t fault their methods so long as it was effective.
“Prominent Macey’s announcement about a nightmare slipping into Sector One-Zero-One is the Lance Brigade’s top priority,” Juma announced. “Our Feelers claim that the nightmare has vanished, but we still do not know how it managed to bypass the barriers and find itself within our walls. Planewalkers tend to have varying abilities to manipulate space and time – but Sector One-Zero-One has anti-spacetime distortion measures and detection scans designed to anticipate such events. Yet, somehow, this nightmare managed to bypass them all, and we only got word of it afterward.”
Anti-spacetime distortion measures? I felt a spark of irritation. Of all the things…
“For that feat, the Planewalker, designated ‘NMR-X’ by the higher-ups, has been classified as a potential Tier 9 threat.”
Juma paused, allowing the announcement to seep in. I could feel the thickness of the tension that dropped on the shoulders of the soldiers around me, and I wanted to laugh at it. Tier 9? Me? If you think I’m a Tier 9 threat, I sorely feel sorry for you.
“There are also rumors circulating that the Planewalker is connected to the Phantom-Death incidents, and thus to NW401 – the Druid Nightwitch “
Of course.
“If this is true…”
It is.
“Extreme caution is advised.”
Most definitely.
At the end of the day, the RETURN command sent me to a spot nearest to Zlosta. This was an opportunity, as another item on the list of ingredients required to get the Heart of Sisyphus was the hair of a Nightly One – or in this case, Zlosta’s hair.
Mythic Quest: Night(mare) in Shining Armor
Mythic Questline Unlocked: Destiny
Destiny can only be delayed, but never denied. Against all odds, you have found yourself once more near to the one who gave you the power to eat y
our cake and have it. Will you abandon her a second time, or will you save the Mad Sage and pave the path for your destiny?
Task: Rescue Zlosta
Quest Giver: [???]
Quest Difficulty: [Tier 9]
Time Left: [N/A]
Quest Rewards: [Unknown]
Quest Failure: [Unknown]
Will you accept this Quest?
[Yes]
[No]
Oh, trying to bait me, are we?
The quest didn’t tell me anything about where Zlosta was, or where she was supposed to be. It didn’t tell me if it was time-sensitive, or the rewards and consequences for failing it. Yet I knew, was that it was a quest that wouldn’t be easy. I was already in a situation wherein the wrong move or expression would lead to my death. I could not rely on my [Duality] or [Gatekeeper] until I knew for sure that using them could not be detected, and would not otherwise fail and bring enemies down on my neck.
Escaping was already difficult. Adding a jailbreak on top of that was a troubling task.
I like these odds.
You have accepted the Quest: Night(mare) in Shining Armor.
First and foremost, I needed to would be to find a way to leave Sector One-Zero-One that wouldn’t be detected. Once I did that, I would need to find where Zlosta was being imprisoned. If the Alhamisians were as paranoid and cautious as I believed, then she was most likely kept somewhere under heavy guard, a place restricted to low-level recruits.
So that means… ‘leveling up’ and fast. Or… alternatively… kill someone with higher clearance, and use [Form Feaster] to take their place.
That path had its difficulties. I would need to find a valid reason to be near someone of higher clearance, and I would need to kill them quickly and quietly enough to not draw any attention. Additionally, if they were granted higher clearance, it typically meant they were stronger than the lower-leveled individuals. Would I be able to take them out quickly?
“Neo Saintarelli.”
My head jerked as I realized my name was called. Not my name, Neo’s name – same difference. Again, numerous pairs of eyes were in my direction. The individual who had called my name was the girl who stood beside Juma. Her eyes narrowed at me, and I couldn’t help myself from providing a coy smile.
“Yes?”
“Why have you disabled your comms and tracer?”
My what? I searched through Neo’s memories. Private comm… Godscripts… the floating boxes and quest system… there’s a built-in voice-chat feature and a location tracker –
The Godscripts were nothing like my Nightscripts. It was a Player User Interface, complete with private messaging, limited inventory storage, a connected information network, a Codex, virtual libraries, maps, live-feed real-time weather, temperature, and vitals –
I didn’t have any of that, because I wasn’t a human.
Oh, this might be troublesome.
For each second that ticked by, numerous eyes locked upon me, along with several whispers. Tension began to rise. “You do understand,” Sophia continued, “only would-be deserters, or people who have a reason to hide where they are going bother to disable their live locations?”
Mutters cut across the Lance Brigade. Some along the lines of ‘I didn’t even know they could be disabled’ to ‘wait, you can disable them?’
Sighing audibly, and loudly, I declared “I have no intention of deserting.”
“Then why are they disabled?”
Because the real Neo Saintarelli is dead.
I couldn’t say that for obvious reasons.
Think. What does Neo know that can help me? In a situation where you were already under suspicion for a deed or misdeed you committed, what was the best thing to do?
I looked her straight in the eye, smiled, and opened my lips.
“I don’t believe it’s any of your business.”
Change the stakes.
Numerous pairs of eyes widened in my direction, the voices turning from whispers to full-blown chatter. I stood, arms crossed, staring straight at a superior officer in what was the most ham-fisted show of defiance and insubordination I could physically muster.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not the one in charge here,” I pointed to Juma. “He is,” I said, before thinking. “I don’t take orders from women.”
Juma, standing beside Sophia, rose his brows, whereas the girl in question bristled. I could almost feel the intensity of her anger from where I stood, despite several feet and several people being in between us.
Ah, yes, playing the role of the sexist bastard always works.
“Perhaps, if you were to ask him to intercede, I would be more willing to give my answers, to the true leader of the Lance Brigade… not his eye-candy.”
I heard the ‘oohs’ and ‘oh snaps’ from the crowd. Soldiers or not, the people gathered around me were teenagers and young adults. I remembered from my teen years how much they possessed a great deal of desire to witness a good verbal spar.
My eyes darted back and forth between Sophia and Juma. The situation was a tricky one that I had once faced, in my previous life. An employee dismissing the instructions of his female superior, and deferring only to his male counterpart. I fired the idiot ultimately, because no one disrespected my Jennifer. She had been the most excellent PA. Not even our tryst managed to ruin that.
But the AAA wasn’t a company. Sophia couldn’t fire me any more than she could hire me. If Juma interceded, I would only have proven my words right by having him settle the matter for her, thus weakening her position and authority in the Lance Brigade. If he didn’t, which I was willing to bet on, and Sophia wasn’t able to somehow get me to obey their instructions, both their standings would go down.
Now… what hand will you play?
“Do you somehow, in that delusional mind of yours, believe yourself to be stronger than me, Saintarelli?”
Ah, a direct challenge then?
Numerous eyes were on me again. I took in a deep breath, making a show of shaking my head in disappointment. “It’s not about strength. It’s about worthiness. You aren’t worthy to lead us.”
“And you are? Because you have a cock between your legs?”
I dismissed her question. “Because I do not talk down to people like ants.” I gestured to the soldiers in assembly. “You talk down to everyone around you. Your tone reeks of arrogance. Do you believe yourself that mighty, or is it just because your father happens to be one of the Ten High Eminents?”
The mutters and whispers swept through the crowd. As I suspected, the information wasn’t public knowledge. Juma standing beside her also had a look of surprise he didn’t quite manage to hide.
“Her dad is a High Eminent?”
“No way.”
“Of course – Alphaphilia – as in, Sophos Alphaphilia.”
“No wonder she’s so stuck up –”
“Shh! Are you mad? What if she hears you!”
It isn’t public knowledge at all. Fascinating. So why did Neo know it?
“That has nothing to do with this Saintarelli –”
I waved my hand. “Are you’re saying that your father being the High Eminent of Progress has absolutely nothing to do with why you’re in the AAA?”
There was a moment of silence where she opened her lips but hesitated. The Lance Brigade saw it immediately. Like starving sharks sniffing a bleeding cut on prey, they took that one act of hesitation as a confirmation of the idea. The outcries and accusations launched at machine-fire rates.
“So it’s true?”
“You’re only in the AAA because of your dad?”
“That’s such bullshit –!”
“Fucking Eminent privilege –“
The crowd was incensed enough that no one was focusing on me, and the fact that I lacked a tracer. The original reason my name was called had been forgotten in lieu of the accusations and shouts at Sophia. She was made into the scapegoat, but alas, it was her fault for calling me out. Watching
her stand, awed and confused by the yells and accusations, I took the opportunity to turn invisible with [Phantasm] and slink away.
I left in a random direction away from the Lance Brigade’s meeting place. Turning to look behind me to ensure no one was following me, I sighed in relief as I tried to find a suitable spot to hide.
The buildings were made in such a manner that it almost felt like an impossibility, which had me racing at max speeds towards the large, giant walls enclosing Sector One-Zero-One. Making sure not to accidentally hit anyone, and making extra sure to avoid anyone who was floating, I found myself behind an odd tree grown directly in front of the giant white walls. There were two towers, present, with guards at the top, forcing me to calculate an angle behind the tree that would fall into the blind-spot of the guards.
I reached out, touching the walls, and frowned as I realized I couldn’t phase through them. They even have measures against ghosts?
My gaze turned to the top of the walls, narrowing at the towers, and shaking my head as Neo’s memories filled in that there was an invisible barrier. I turned my gaze to the ground, tapping it – and [Earth Control] told me there was a material at the bottom that I wouldn’t be able to phase through or manipulate.
The Alhamisians were tremendously paranoid bastards. Paranoid, but it was certainly well-deserved
I couldn’t phase through the walls, I couldn’t go over them, I couldn’t dig under, and if Juma was to be believed, my [Epithet Skills] couldn’t be used either. As far as I knew, the only way I would be able to escape Sector One-Zero-One was if I walked straight out the front gates.
Quite the predicament.
I wouldn’t be able to get that far. My lack of a Godscripts would give me away. Not having it would be the defining feature that told people I wasn’t human.
I absorbed Neo’s memories and abilities… shouldn’t I have also absorbed his ability to use the Godscripts? I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered under my breath. “Godscript.”
ERROR!
Nightscript and Godscript incompatibility.
A Nightmare is given the Nightscript. An Alamirian is given the Godscript.
You cannot comb –
Comb –