by K. T. Hanna
“Did you hear?” Wren finally managed to get the words out.
Harlow moved down, still holding Wren’s hand and kneeled at the side of her chair. “Yeah. Kind of hard not to. It’s not the biggest condo in the world.”
Wren tilted her head back and studied the ceiling. There was so much she wanted to be able to say. And so much she didn’t understand.
Calm down. It’s not that bad. You’re going to be fine. You just come with a few improvements now.
I really wasn’t talking to you. Wren couldn’t keep the lifelessness from her voice. There was just something about having an artificial intelligence speaking inside your mind without anything to physically link you to it that knocked all of the wind out of her.
The ceiling was interesting. Far more interesting than the turmoil happening in her brain. And just so much more interesting than the thing hanging around in her head.
“You doing okay?” Harlow’s voice was gentle, a few decibels down from her usual volume. Like she knew that Wren needed some space to deal with her whole brain shit.
Hell, it was like Harlow had known her for her whole life.
Wren started to laugh. Just a soft chuckle at first, but then some more. She was tired, though less so than she’d been before. And she was exhausted from all the emotions running through her, not to mention the fact that her head was, in fact, sort of like a computer right now. Or perhaps a server was a better description.
Maybe she could download info into her brain. Jinna, Masha, and Risk had definitely been able to download some form of the virus into their brains, after all.
That thought made her push all of her worries to the back of her mind and focus on the others instead of being selfish and focusing on herself. Not that it was necessarily selfish, but since she couldn’t personally do anything about her current predicament, it only stood to reason that she should tackle something she could control.
Harlow was watching, her brow furrowed with concern as she obviously tried to discern if it was a good or hysterical laugh. Wren smiled, stood up, pulling Harlow with her, and snuck in a very gentle, sweet kiss. Even that second of contact grounded her world again, making everything separate back into doable chunks. One thing at a time. Harlow didn’t need a game to be magical.
“Well, that’s good, then.” Harlow laughed as Wren pulled her into a huge hug.
That’s how it felt. “Yeah. Just like always you make everything better.”
Harlow raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, though. What are you talking about? What idea did you just have that caused that reaction, and what can I do to help you keep that smile on your face?”
Several things ran through Wren’s mind right then, and none of them bore repeating in a house into which her parents had installed a high-tech security system. Coughing to clear her head, and hopefully hide her blush, Wren spoke. “We can talk about the smile on my face later. The guys have…hmmm, no. That’s not right. Masha, Risk, and Jinna—and I think a couple of others who I’ve noticed hanging around with them all now—have fragments of the virus screwing with their headgear, maybe even their actual minds.”
“I think they’ve been infected through contact with Jirald.” Harlow’s expression took on the dark tones of a very vicious thundercloud, and she crossed her arms, thus completing the scowl.
“Yeah, I know, but at the same time, this is a good thing. Knowing where it came from for once is actually an advantage. I’ll need to talk to my mother.” Wren was already running through some ideas in her head. If they could pull the stats from Jirald’s headset, and maybe from the others to see if they’d all been adjusted, tampered with, or just plain assembled together out of duct tape and wires, then there was a possibility that if those same headsets were removed, they might still be normal.
Hopefully none of them had been altered to the extent Wren’s had. Just one fried brain was more than enough. For all she knew, this whole thing of being able to use her abilities our here in the real world was a very bad thing for her brain health.
“How are we for time?” she asked, aware that she’d already posed the question but not left enough time for an actual answer.
Harlow shrugged. “Well, we only took about six hours’ sleep, so I mean, we still have some time.” She paused and studied Wren, grabbing her hand again and squeezing. “Did you even get five hours of sleep? How long were you down here?”
Wren grimaced. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll be fine, too. We have a lot to prep. Neva is going to have to take a long day today, and I hope she’s in early, because I’m about to log in.”
“After you talk to your mom,” Harlow reminded her.
“Of course, after I’ve talked to my mom. I’m not that bad, Harl.” Wren tried to stay exasperated, but she didn’t have the heart. For the first time since logging out and realizing that sections of her skills came with her to the outside world, she felt a twinge of hope that maybe not everything was up shit’s creek after all. And Harlow by her side definitely helped with that.
Somnia Online
Continent of Tarishna - Mikrum Isle
Day Thirty-Two - Early Morning.
Telvar stood and watched the bustle surrounding Fable’s vast crafting empire. Neva had done wonders. Guilds in all different phases of the world, in all different stages of the game, knew Fable’s wares. Murmur and Beastial had left the girl free rein, and Neva ran all the way to the bank with it.
Good thing, too—they were going to need any and every advantage they could get in the coming dungeon.
“Telvar!” Neva waved to him, a massive grin on her canine features. Her tail wagged, and her ears twitched every now and again, showing just how excited she was to see him. Everyone needed a Neva. Maybe he could bottle that energy.
“Hello, master crafter.” He spoke the title with respect, because she’d earned every little bit of it.
She blushed, even under the fur; it was obvious. “Silly. I’m having a blast getting to keep a track of all this. Though, it really ends up being a lot, you know?”
“How are the preparations coming along?” He asked the question seemingly nonchalantly. But in reality, he was anything but.
“Excellent. The others have almost finished the first six dungeons themselves and will be moving onto the high-level ones as soon as they’ve got enough people at level forty-eight. Waiting for a guild group this time.” She was glancing through a list while she talked, a pen marking things off it. Multitasking perfection.
“Long story short, we have a lot of crafting materials. I’ve managed three more repair kits for the next zone. Those are a doozy. I finally hit my alchemy mastery, and we have potions and tinctures galore.” She frowned, turned away from Telvar, and yelled across the workshop. “Dhegar! I don’t have those diamonds you promised me. Need them twenty minutes ago!”
“Yes, Neva!” came a quick response, and the small luna turned her attention back to Telvar and raised an eyebrow.
“I swear, sometimes they’d forget their ears if they weren’t attached.” Her nose twitched, showing she was mostly joking, but Telvar wasn’t completely convinced.
“Looks like you’ve got it all, then. Just…let me know if there’s anything you need. Always willing to help out.” He couldn’t do too much; the rules of the world didn’t work that way. At least not right now. Maybe he could talk to Somnia about that at some stage. Of course, he had to be careful of human rules too. Find out you’ve got AIs on your side, and suddenly you cheated or had it too easy. There were reasons he’d handled revealing themselves outside of Glacier Lake the way he had.
Granted, most people would think Fable’s progression had been easy. Technically it had, but only because they tried different approaches.
“There you are.” Emilarth came running up to him, Belius dawdling behind her.
He gave her a deadpan stare. “Really? You know you if you had any trouble finding me, you could have just ported yourself to my side, right?”
She pou
ted. “That’s so not fair. Taking away all of my fun. You should be ashamed.” Then she sighed.
“But you know I’m not.” Telvar finished for her. “What’s up?”
“When are they getting back? Haven’t you felt those tremors?” Emilarth actually appeared to be worried, not that he blamed her.
“They’ll be back when they get back. They don’t run on batteries, you know,” he finished, trying to sound pompous on purpose.
Emilarth blinked for a moment and then laughed, loudly and heartily. “That was actually funny. You know, because…”
“It was my joke. I do get it.” Telvar tried to let her down gently and not give on just how worried he was that they wouldn’t have enough time left to prepare. They had to join forces; they had to make sure they were all on the same page. They had to warn the guilds about exactly what they were getting into and still hope Fable was willing to take the risk. There had to be some way Exodus could know too, though they hadn’t been given altered headgear.
“Are the keys going to work properly?” Belius still sounded grumpy, but Telvar just had to accept that was his brother, regardless of whether it was pleasant or not.
“They should, the one thing he won’t be able to do from that prison is change the locks.” Telvar sighed, wishing for the umpteenth time that he’d given himself a species that had hair he could pull out. It really felt like this was the ideal time for pulling out hair.
“Telvar!”
The lacerta started with surprise as Neva poked her head around his side. “What?” He realized he didn’t sound gracious at all. In fact, he sounded downright irritated.
But that didn’t deter the master crafter. She just flashed a smile, her ears twitching with excitement as she ran down that massive list she had in her hands. He knew she could have kept the list in her interface, but apparently that wasn’t something she liked to do. “So, just to be clear, when this mystery thing that they’re doing happens, will they retain access to their guild storage, or will I have to make an exception and figure out another way to provide them with enough stores to last this unspecified raid? Have I thanked you for all of the specificities I’ve been given?” She added the last with a sweet edge to her voice, her large eyes twinkling.
Oh, she was clever. The luna knew something was up. She probably knew that not even Telvar or his siblings could give a clear answer on the damned dungeon. “I’ll check, but you might want some extra storage just in case. Just to be prepared.”
Neva nodded, her eyes narrowing as she put a pen in her mouth and chewed. “Hm. Okay. I can shift a few things around, and it should work, but…” She raised her eyes and studied him. “So, you’re all going with them too, right?”
Her tone made it seem like she already knew the answer anyway. And, of course, she did. But confirmation always helped.
Telvar had to debate how to correctly answer the question. He could tell her, but what if the information leaked out? “We will join them, although we do not know quite how far yet.” There. That seemed like a good compromise.
Neva, if it was possible, narrowed her eyes even further until they were slits. “You know, Tel, you might be all programmy and such, but I’m a canine in this form, and I swear I can smell a lie from ten paces.”
Telvar locked gazes with her for a moment and was the first one to glance away. “You know, Neva, that facade you put on is extremely effective.”
“Facade?” She grinned at him, “Why, whatever do you mean?”
Behind him, Emilarth laughed. “She’s got you there, Tel. That’s brilliant. Can we keep her?”
Rolling his eyes, Telvar laughed too. The day was going to be far too long without a bit of laughing at himself. “Fine. You win. Suffice it to say that we will be there should they need us.”
“Perfect.” Neva noted something down and checked a line off the list in her hand. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
Summer Residence
Home of Laria, David, and Wren
Summer Condo
Early Morning Day Thirty-Two
Wren stood at the foot of her bed, holding her headgear in her hands, and stared at it. Harlow was finishing off getting dressed, and while she waited, Wren studied the strange device and its octopus-like arms that felt around in her hair as it tried to suck her brain out of her skull. Sometimes she swore she could feel it trying to penetrate the bone even when she wasn’t wearing it.
Okay, so it didn’t actually do that, but sometimes she felt like it did. Maybe it was just because her experience hadn’t been typical. But apparently with any modifications, the player had to be careful.
The headgear shouldn’t have been this powerful in the first place. Her headset as it was wasn’t the patent that got approved for mass production. It had been tremendously altered both outside and in. These were scientific research devices that belonged in a closely monitored lab.
I didn’t know you cared so much.
Somnia was definitely getting her own perfectly quippy personality. You really are becoming your own person. You know that, right?
If she could have seen Somnia in her room, she would have noticed she shrugged. At least, that was the sensation that ran through her brain. You’re worried. It was a statement, not a question, but it seemed like Somnia was waiting for her to answer it anyway.
Murmur sighed, glancing at the bathroom door just to make sure Harlow didn’t come out and distract her mid-talking. I want to know if I even need this headgear anymore? Should I bother putting it on?
She wanted to know that answer, so desperately, but at the same time she also didn’t. Knowing would mean she couldn’t go back. At the same time, not knowing might put herself in danger.
Somnia hesitated with the answer. And when she spoke, it seemed like she was picking her words with extra care. Look, Wren. Mur. Whichever you prefer. That headgear is wrong in many ways. Not the one that was designed originally. Not the one you should be wearing. But now it’s...well, it’s sort of attuned to you. You know?
Murmur nodded and glanced at the bathroom door again before continuing. Yeah, I get it. It’s sort of a part of me.
Yes. Eagerness filled Somnia’s sometimes still static voice. When it zapped you and pulled you in deeper than you should have dived, it sort of...
The world paused for a moment, like it was trying to find the right words, and Wren just continued to turn the device over in her hands. It was difficult to wait patiently, but she was learning that she was capable of a whole mess of things she’d never contemplated before.
As far as I can tell, the lasers are at a higher frequency in your device. They penetrated far deeper than they should have and practically fused you with the system then and there.
Wren knew she wasn’t being told everything, so she waited, irritation growing inside. Irritation that she pushed away and attempted to find that inner sanctum of serenity she’d discovered upon realizing how much damage she’d been inadvertently doing. This was information she should have had ages ago. She hated being kept in the dark.
You know you’re what woke me, right?
Wren thought on that, fairly certain she’d already known that when Somnia started to whisper to her, to make her presence known. Yeah. Yeah, I think I’d have known that either way.
You were my safe haven, and even now you are as much a part of me as I am of you.
The words settled in Wren’s stomach like a bucket of ice had been dropped into her. She digested the words, and barely even noticed as Harlow placed her hand gently on Wren’s shoulder. So, I’m a part of you?
Somnia seemed flustered when she answered this time. Yes and no? I mean, your essence, what makes you function as far as brain activity goes. Those things are essentially a part of me; they are part of my building blocks now. It’s what I...this is so complicated.
Wren scowled, and Harlow’s grip tightened to let her know she was there. Wren could feel it in the emotions that leaked through into her nets, cast out
even here in reality. So give me a too-long, didn’t-read version of it, thanks.
Yes, you don’t have to wear the headset to transport into this world. You can—at least I think it will work this way—transport yourself in here at will at any time, should you so choose. Like you did earlier.
Wren stood there for a few moments, trying to make her brain remember to take in the oxygen she needed to survive. Would my body just wither and die here? How is that even possible? This makes no sense whatsoever.
She couldn’t help the panic rising in her. Everything she’d worked toward, everything she’d dreamed of. The planning she’d put into her future…what did this all mean for that? What if she accidentally fell asleep and dreamed of Somnia? Would she wake up there?
I’m so, so sorry, Wren. I wish I had more solid answers for you. But I can sort of give you an analogy or comparison, if you like? Sort of...think of our connection being like a chip. Sort of. And that chip is what gives you access whenever you want to enter the game world. That is how you get in. Not through a headset, but through another type of connection. I wish I could explain it better.
Somnia sounded distressed. And static. Very static. All the anger in Wren’s stomach vanished, leaving her hungry and tired and suddenly feeling very drained. She sighed and let herself sit down on the bed as Harlow began to give her a shoulder massage and gripped the headgear tightly in her hands.
After this raid. After this raid she’d see to it that she figured out just how the connection worked. Her mom would help, Harlow would help, and she was sure Havoc and Merlin would as well. Probably others, too. If they could just get through the next couple of days in the game world, maybe she could figure out what was really going on with her without having to worry about the rogue computer virus bringing everything around her crashing down.
Summer Residence
Home of Laria, David, and Wren
Summer Condo