by K. T. Hanna
She cleared her throat, though she had no need, it was just a nervous reaction to what she was about to announce. On Arita’s advice, they’d moved the gathering to Darshin because of the structural work the masons needed to perform up in the city, cracked by the rising of the prison, they had moved it to the docks. Besides, the docs were the easiest point of access for everyone.
She looked down at the dwarven leaders, Dirsna at its head, his understanding of what had happened to Murmur and Somnia probably almost as great as Belius’s, given his enchantress. Then there was Arita, and Somnia wasn’t sure how to read her, but she did know that the dark elf valued something Murmur had done, even if the enchanter didn’t realize it herself. Others lingered around, including the rulers of Ululate and Curet. Fable had done wonders in all of these places, facing the corrupted dungeons in ways that weren’t intended by the AIs’ original design but evolved from the story as it grew up and past its original intentions.
“I’m Somnia. I think you can all feel that I am me.” She offered a small smile, waited a moment and closed her eyes, knowing that most of them would be able to sense the truth of it from her in a purely algorithmic sense.
An awed silence fell over the crowd as the words ran through their minds, like she’d given them something they’d not expected to witness. She couldn’t blame them; until a few months ago, she hadn’t technically existed as an entity.
“There are bad things rampant in our world, trying to usurp the delicate balance our emerging lives have taken on. From allowing us to grow into more than original programming intended, to the fact that we’ve reached where we are today, autonomous in a sense, sentient in another…”
“Sapient!” someone yelled out but was shortly drowned out by people yelling about how they didn’t want to be human. Somnia could relate to that.
“We aren’t there yet, but we are becoming more, and our world, this world…” She opened her eyes and looked around at the high rock walls above her currently being repaired by stone masons and craftsmen. “This is where we belong, and thus this world belongs. This world exists.”
She paused, glancing at Arita who smiled gently, or as gently as her dark elf queen self allowed her to.
Somnia grounded herself, and for several moments, appeared almost solid. Her white hair flowed around her, soft and silken, and her white eyes opened up from her deep silver-grey skin tone. Scales rippled around her cheeks and wrists, and the white dress she wore shimmered in an array of colors that were promised but not quite delivered. Arita had helped her decide how to make her point, how to see if she could get the majority of the world on board with the plan.
Without it, it wouldn’t work, so she threw herself into becoming herself, unwilling to risk it to chance.
“This isn’t a game. Not to us. Not anymore. Our world is more than that. It is solidifying. With the virus rampant through our system, it has been both a blessing and a curse. It has enabled us to separate ourselves from the imposed constraints even as it affects us. And now we have a chance to separate ourselves from the virus as well.”
She let her words hang there and had to drop her shining presence for a few moments at least. It was tiring to pull on herself that much when she was trying to juggle everything else along with it. She was far better at manipulating the world around her into things than herself.
Dirsna spoke up, his voice contemplative. “Are ya tellin’ us Somnia can be its own world?” There was hope in his tone, a wistfulness that she could sympathize with.
She nodded. “Yes. Technically, if we can get enough power, we should be able to shift Somnia into our own quantum dimension of sorts.”
She paused, because that was a lot to take in, even for herself. It was the first time she’d said it out loud. “But I need more energy to pull it off. We can’t shift fully if we don’t have the power.”
“What do you mean, power?” Dirsna appeared to be extra cautious.
Somnia took a breath. This was complex, with a whole lot of theoretical science to back it up, nothing proven just yet. But it could be done. She knew it, down into her very existence. “We can pull the energy we need from all around us. Our servers are already overloading with how much we’ve expanded. Our quantum base isn’t going to be enough. Pulling on more power, I can channel it to a point that allows me to create a meta-quantum computer, ever so briefly. I will maintain the balance for the precise moment we need to make the change.”
“So.” There was a pause as Dirsna spoke up again, confusion furrowing his brow. “We can grow a world?”
Somnia contemplated her answer. “It doesn’t quite work like that. It won’t be a planet as such. But with enough power, it should propel us into a meta-quantum state. Which will allow us to exist in our own dimension of sorts—perpetually suspended in the infinite.”
Storm Entertainment
Somnia Online Division
Game Development Offices - Shayla’s Office
Day Thirty-Two
The door burst open, briefly pulling Laria out of her concentration. David was beaming. In two quick strides, he knelt by her side, a smile on his face, and she knew immediately he’d succeeded.
“I got them,” he said breathlessly.
He’d gotten a hold of Michael’s original plans as described in his graduate thesis. Sure, it was pretty easy to get the plans and thesis, but not as easy to get the actual grading record, which is what she’d wanted. Sure, he’d received his master’s, but the commentary was important to her. She had a hunch there was something she needed to see.
“I can’t look right now, but show it to Shayla and have her share it to us. Got a bit of a battle going on.” She cracked her knuckles even though her keyboard these days was a virtual, mind-powered one. It was all about the effect.
Except for the stupid virus, that is. Its effects were inundating the system, almost like it might be trying to distract them from looking into something else. She followed its trail. With Silke and Thomas in here, there were three people too many. Shayla’s office was big, but not so big that it comfortably fit five working adults.
David gestured with his hands, and Shayla put her face in hers. Obviously not the stellar reception of the news Laria had anticipated. Or maybe it was just landing one more thing on her plate.
Shayla took a deep breath and walked over. “Pick one of your other staff members to get in here and take care of this. Someone you can trust. I have Silke and Thomas doing the same thing.”
“Sure,” Laria said, knowing well enough not to ask questions when Shayla looked as if she was about to faint. After a brief moment, she contacted one of her more junior staff members who’d won a hacking competition for a security company before they’d come to intern with her. Best choice she could make. They’d probably be better at chasing the virus than she was.
Once Harper sat at the keyboard, effectively taking over after a brief explanation, Laria joined Shayla and David outside the room.
“Care to explain?” Shayla asked, still unsure what to say because of the weight she could feel hanging between them. “I mean. Like, I get what these are, but why should I care? And especially, why should I care right this instant?”
“I was right. Well, sort of, anyway.” Laria pinched her brow like it was becoming a habit. “The base plans that resemble Wren’s are easily accessible. They seem to be a bit closer to the headgear Michael was wearing when he had his accident, though. But yeah, this at least lets us know that anyone and everyone has had access to these. For all we know, Michael allowed these types of alterations to bypass our system alarms. I mean, after all, Wren did get in. Nothing said her headgear shouldn’t have been in there.”
Shayla watched her thoughtfully. “So kids on the internet have been playing around with their headsets? And doing so with Michael’s schematics from his masters, which was years ago, without alerting our system to the fact?”
Laria nodded. “Yes.” She frowned as she scanned the grading notes. The things t
hat David had gotten specifically at her request.
She didn’t like what they were saying, though she’d expected it to be about this. But expecting and actually seeing it are two entirely different things. All the remarks in here from his faculty overseers. The danger of such a device. The questionable morality it posed. The ability to tap far too deep into the mind without extensive testing and adaptation. How very dangerous it could be if adjustments were made without taking each unique person’s physiology into account first…
Laria blinked. That really didn’t sound good. She bit her lip. “I feel like this…I think that headgear has irreparably altered something in Wren’s mind. There’re things she can do and see. We need to figure something out.”
Shayla shrugged uncomfortably. “Hopefully not in the way you’re thinking. But regardless, we have to make sure no one has applied these changes, or at least get the application of them under control. Gamers are ever curious. How to get the best connection, how to have the best quality game experience. You know people went and got his thesis work. And I’m willing to bet no one but you hacked in to see what his grading counsellors suggested about the project.”
“Yeah.” Laria found it difficult to concentrate. Sure, she’d known something had been wrong all along. But in a way, she’d kind of hoped. Now, with it staring her right in the face, she knew her game had made permanent changes to her daughter’s mind. It was a heavy load.
David spoke up, his voice gentle. “We need to close down the Somnia servers. Not the game, just the log in servers and run several diagnostic tests on it. They’ve been giving off some weird fluctuations. As it is, with these schematics out there, people have bought them. Not a huge amount, but definitely some. This is dangerous. Like liability dangerous. Davenport needs to know.”
“So, it’s the headsets though, not the game?” Laria felt a ball of guilt strike her in the gut as hard as a medicine ball might slam into her. This was her game, designed around the ability to full dive, designed with failsafes that she’d turned a blind eye to when her daughter and friends circumvented them.
“Shit. What have I done?” Her legs felt weak, and her worry levels shot up tenfold. Her kid was in that game, in there with her friends fighting against some weirdly human virus that was trying to get a running start into the internet, and it was all her fault.
“Hey. It’s not you. Your game was fine—the headgear was designed originally just for playing, but once the funding came in, Michael got carried away.” Shayla ground her teeth together, the sound oddly audible.
“Yeah. But it’s my game. And he fucked with it and with my kid. I’m not going down that easily. We’re going to fix this.” Laria’s determination sang through her bones, like it was setting her drive on fire. “Fuck this. Let’s go and talk to Davenport, I know he’ll have ideas too.”
The thud of ranger bodies smashing against the stone sounded dull in Murmur’s ears. Luckily it wasn’t an insta-kill sort of thing. But it was dangerous. Seventy-five percent health wasn’t anything to scoff at. Elastitan roared, opening his mouth and showing sharp scissor like protrusions that seemed to resemble teeth lining its massive stomach located opening.
While she’d at first thought this area resembled Pivya’s underwater ruined temple, she’d been wrong. Sure, it had pillars that were similar to the columns, but that was about it. Beyond each set of pillars was a ward. She couldn’t call it a wall, because it was mostly transparent, but you could tell it was there. Between two of the pillars toward where the next path began, there were three strange stones. They were raised in a way that made them appear to be daises. The odd collection of stone circles a few feet in front of the pillars made no sense at all either.
But they had enough room to maneuver in, the rotunda was deceptively large. She needed to concentrate on Elastitan even though wasn’t sure what to make of the creature. All she knew was they’d apparently killed all of its babies.
The pillars were like magical windows that shifted the air’s density or something. Because anything going a few feet past each of those pillars in the rotunda of columns didn’t go any further. It hit it with a thud and sank to the ground.
QUEST OFFERING
Elastitan is not of this world and but a guardian to this prison isle. He does not get along well with the newer inmates. Send him back to where he belongs and reap the rewards, but be careful: not all of the triggers you see before you will be successful.
Everyone else was reading the quest when they should have been concentrating on the boss. Murmur hastily hit accept and announced over the raid, “We’re doing that quest. Keep an eye out on anything you see that might be a trigger to a portal, or a piece of a puzzle we have to place together so a portal opens for Elastitan to go through.”
“How about we be nice and say hi?” Murmur wasn’t sure who that was, but she thought it might have been the mage Etriad. It was nice timing for the tension to lift from the group. She’d have to say thank you later.
“I don’t think he feels like talking,” Sinister quipped, and at that moment Elastitan roared again, flinging his bits of material flesh at the raid in a rage. They weren’t easy to dodge if you didn’t watch it, but if you saw it from the moment the creature began to unfurl its fleshy bandages, then you had a really solid chance of beating it. Almost like double Dutch jump roping. And Murmur hadn’t done that since she was in grade school.
“Slows are effective on separate appendages,” Merlin called out, and Mur had to wonder why no one had slowed the babies’ individual strips. Perhaps theirs hadn’t been individually targetable.
“Ice medium effective. Fire less so,” Ishwa called like he’d expected as much.
Murmur attempted to use her stuns and her Mezmerize against the appendages but got her habitual warnings that this spaghetti-o was immune to stuns and the like. And mind magic didn’t have much effect either. Probably because its brain was in its stomach or something.
Devlish called out, “Slash the fuck out of it.”
It wasn’t like anyone was going to argue with him. Murmur sent an image to Snowy, asking the wolf to please search for any sign of the puzzle to free Elastitan. He wuffed briefly next to her, like he was offended that she wouldn’t let him bite their opponent instead, and then trotted off around the outside of the battlefield, slowly moving into stealth mode until she could no longer see him.
He was a great wolf, and Murmur glanced sideways at Telvar to see if he too was watching the wolf he’d seemed to know from somewhere. Obviously Telvar had created him, but Snowy was so much more now.
The three AIs remained grouped together, behaving like NPCs were technically supposed to. Belius simply DoT’d with his spells and weakened what he could. Emilarth helped heal where she could, and Telvar fought well, keeping his damage middle of the pack.
She’d thought they would be more help, but unless they told the other two guilds about it, they couldn’t. There were too many questions to be asked and not enough time to give the answers in as much depth as they needed.
Watching Elastitan and his movements, most of the melee dodged his attacks in time. But it was more difficult for the long-range casters and rangers. The rangers weren’t used to something being able to reach them on the outskirts of the fight. But the mages were often in the middle of a cast when the strips unfurled and headed in their direction, so they either had to stay there and finish the cast and probably get impaled nicely, or they had to interrupt their casting and waste time on dealing more damage.
Murmur could already guess at the number of healing potions getting used in this fight.
Devlish stood his ground remarkably well. Elastitan didn’t appear to have any type of aggro switch or ability that made tanks have to swap. She was grateful for that. Risk’s whole attitude was so touch and go right now. And while she’d not noticed Jinna glaring at her, even now they were all together again, the wariness she felt hadn’t waned. Had he just really been angry with her previously? Elastitan had
no mana, and thus his strip and body maneuvers were all ability based. Murmur could slow them, she could even stall them, but stuns and Mezmerize were out, and mana drains were useless.
Sinister’s blood magic seemed to do good damage, and both Risk and Devlish were slowly moving up in the DPS meters, their overall damage overtaking some of the burst classes because they were constantly leeching—and doing so effectively.
There was a shift close to the shoulders where those two strips of flesh snapped out like a cracking whip moved slightly, like a tensing of the muscles. It was all the notice they had that the ability had been activated. This time it was directed at Murmur.
She dove to the left-hand side and rolled on the ground, barely evading where it cracked the stone where she’d been standing. Pulling herself up, she glanced at the damage to the floor. Surely that wasn’t like the previous strikes. If that had hit her, she’d be dead. As it was, she’d still received some backlash from it.
Sinister glanced over her shoulder, her brow knit in concentration. “Watch out, Mur. That attack wasn’t normal.”
The enchanter nodded, but it wasn’t only not normal, it was specifically targeted. Murmur began to move around the room, taking her own debuffs with her and casting from multiple different locations. While she did that, she got the distinct feeling that the 360-degree eye could see her no matter where she went, and it was always aware of her location. Maybe it didn’t like enchanters, or perhaps there was something she could do that she hadn’t figured out.
Not that she was the only one. Belius didn’t appear to be having any more luck with detecting weaknesses than she did. For once, she wasn’t the only enchanter present. In a way, it felt weird. Even if he was being very NPC and not playing like she knew he could.
Not stuns, nothing related to mind control considering from what her sensing nets could tell, it didn’t have a mind as she understood it. But there was something else there. She frowned, still moving constantly, hopefully making it more difficult for it to lock a target onto her. Those strips needed a lot of room to move.