Continue Online (Part 3, Realities)

by Stephan Morse

  Both feet tried to find purchase and [Anchor] activated next. The bar floor met a high enough metal concentration that my feet were drawn down. There wasn’t enough purchase. SuperE roared out loud and charged for the doorway. I managed to get an arm loose and grabbed onto more metal framing before he reached throwing speed. The bar counter was my savior. Being on a space station certainly helped for material composition.

  Resisting made SuperE start banging on my arm. Pain flared up as his meaty hands managed to deal damage even through the [Power Armor]. His [Brawn] character stat must have been through the roof. We sat there awkwardly deadlocked as he tried to drag me to the door for the tossing. My fingers left dents in the counter top.

  There were still a few things to try. I could swing at him with a sword if my hand had been free. The wrist laser arm was currently being crushed. I tried to activate one of my other abilities, one that Iron had given me.

  [Material Conversion] went into play with a blast of noise like a microwave going off. Whirring started as it felt like something was being sucked through my hand. The counter lost mass and started giving way. At the same time, my body felt heavier by far. The energy bar on my screen started dropping, not only from abilities being used but the maximum size was also going down.

  I stared at a message in confusion.

  [Material Conversion]

  Details: This ability converts compatible metals to body mass. Due to the increased energy requirements for maintaining a larger body your [Core] will be unable to spare as much. Increased body size will provide temporary boosts to [Brawn] and [Toughness].

  Soon I was nearly double my original mass. The metal muscles I had been so proud of seemed to swell to bursting. I felt like every bad workout video gone wrong. My chest felt like it had comically sized boobs that were clearly solid. Either arm became like tree trunks.

  I, I was honestly kind of afraid to see what this enlarged version of me might look like. A steroid user gone absurdly wrong. Being in a [Mechanoid] body with this couldn’t be good.

  SuperE was yelling with effort. People around the bar were torn equally between laughing, shouting, and drunken stupor. I didn’t know what to do in order to end this nonsense. The tall white human that had suggested a tossing contest was starting to level a real weapon in my direction.

  Finally, it occurred to me that maybe turnabout was fair play. My body had grown almost triple its normal size in exchange for an empty energy bar. The floor was missing mass, and a once dingy bar counter now comprised random parts of my [Mechanoid] body.

  I put it all to good use by reversing our situation. SuperE fit comfortably into both hands. Enough of the wall was missing that I could hurl him straight through the air. I had aimed for the second star on the right but settled for sending the player off toward slum parts unknown to me.

  “What? Nooo, fuuuuuuckkkk!” he shouted while sailing through the air. His parting curse was sufficiently odd enough for me to tilt my head and wonder what had just happened.

  My eyes drifted down to an absurdly muscled arm that could probably crush Jeeves’ head with one squeeze. Treasure looked even smaller than before and was now rapidly scanning my body instead of the bar patrons. She appeared to be trying to hold back laughter while looking at the display on her side.

  “Hehehe.” A male giggled from behind me.

  I was huffing from the rush of throwing the human so far. In the distance, metal roofs fell down in clatters. A crater could be seen from SuperE’s landing. People behind me were clapping.

  My body shook. Between [Anchor], [Power Armor] and the restrictions of a body this size I had burned through everything in a mere forty seconds. Still, that was simply the neatest thing I had done all day. Throwing another player an absurd distance away felt great.

  New Contender: Hermes

  Subject of Tossing: SuperE

  Distance: 328 yards

  According to that measurement, politely provided by Advance Online’s oddly timed interface, I had thrown SuperE three football fields and change. That amount of distance was bonkers. Of course, I was a twenty-foot tall man made of metal borrowed from one of the walls. Low gravity on this space station might have helped.

  “Unit Hermes. I would suggest releasing all the extra mass. Treasure and I can try to repair the door while you talk to Eggman.” Jeeves offered a ready solution to my recent destruction to part of this building. We were all lucky my absorption skill hadn’t pulled enough mass to suck everyone into space.

  I nodded and concentrated on releasing the skill. It felt like unclenching every muscle in my body. The glowing rust color to my [Mechanoid] body started to dim as my size decreased. Fifteen feet, then ten, and finally back to the seven-foot marker my character existed at.

  Jeeves started working right away. I vaguely remembered it having a title of [Pattern Smith] or something similar. Those two were likely very well equipped to take care of exactly this sort of problem.

  Metal pooled around my feet from a melting second skin. Some people continued clapping. I turned to Eggman and stepped away from the mess left behind.

  “We need the key to Earth, to recover the Mistborn and stop some former colleagues of yours.”

  “Oh really, really, really?” Eggman’s voice was high-pitched with excitement.

  “Yes.” I tried to stay calm, but my body was still recovering from that recent bout.

  “Yeah. I’ll go with you, I really will. But you’ve got to let me punch those assholes in the face, really. They knocked me out, stole my items, and left. It would really serve them right to suffer a bit of revenge.” Eggman nodded. The man would have looked good with a mustache, sort of. Having a third chin jutting out might have required a less form fitting shirt, or maybe a hat to help even things out. Instead, he had goggles much like TheLittleMan had.

  “Yes, for vengeance.” I tried to play along, but my mind was elsewhere. This player wanted to abruptly join our crew? How weird was that? Plus he looked remarkably out of shape, worse than even I was months ago. Eggman was both a description and character name, for a human.

  Nevermind, this was a video game world. He could be extremely agile for all I knew.

  “Jeeves? What do you think?” I asked. The AI shrugged, Treasure didn’t seem to care one way or the other. There had to be someone else who might be able to give input. In these sort of dire straits, I couldn’t be sure how trustful other players were.

  Grant Legate: Hey, Munchkin, quick quest question.

  Elizabeth Legate: Are you going to ask me about that cartoon character you’re standing next to?

  Grant Legate: Uhhh…yes. Are you and your mom watching?

  Elizabeth Legate: Sure are. It’s better than a movie. She may not be on board with the whole situation, but it doesn’t mean she’ll turn down a chance to watch her brother be a hero, or bite the dust, whatever.

  Grant Legate: Thanks, I didn’t have enough pressure before. Anyway, this other player, do you think I should trust him?

  Elizabeth Legate: Worst case, you fail the quest, personally I’d go for it. Having an extra set of hands around helps.

  There were a lot of things to consider about my conversation with Beth. First was the fact that my sister was on board enough to treat my adventure like a movie. That was either hopeful, or she had finally started paying attention to more than just the letter from Xin. The two of them might be eating popcorn and making a list of things to harass me about. Once my admin access came back they would be blocked. For now, I was thankful that [Mechanoid]s didn’t come with genitals.

  “Okay.” I nodded to the player, Eggman. “But you need your own ship.”

  “No problem,” responded Eggman. He looked a bit like a mad scientist in that get up of his. I was probably the crazy one for inviting a stranger along on a mission to rescue my dead fiancée’s digital ghost.

  Session Sixty Two – Blue Marbles

  The two [Mechanoid]s filled up our space gas tanks. It now contained barely en
ough future fossil fuel to power our flight toward Earth and maybe hit a Jump Gate out. I had no vested interest in our situation beyond keeping my allies safe and recovering the [Mistborn]. Soon I could return to Continue Online and my letter exchange with Xin would resume.

  It felt oddly fatalistic to provide myself a lame fallback point. Worst case scenario, Jeeves might vanish into digital limbo, the three [Mechanoid]s with us would suffer a reset back to our home world, I would fail to resurrect Xin in some form to interact with, and my sister and niece would have a conversation topic. None of those sounded appealing.

  I heaved a sigh then checked our countdown timer. We weren’t going to make it in time. By these calculations and Treasure’s own admission, Commander Queenshand would get to Earth first. Our ship wasn’t fast enough, even with Aqua’s blues and Ruby’s reds locked into opposite sides of our hull. Their vehicles were helping with propulsion. Eggman’s needle-like vessel hovered nearby keeping pace. At least the new player didn’t slow us down.

  Time until [Stabinator] catches up with [Wayfarer’s Hope]:

  6:39:05

  Time until [Wayfarer’s Hope] catches up with [WTS a Spaceship]:

  11:02:04

  We were screwed. Getting caught by the [Stabinator] sounded bad and all our timers were against us. I brought up the visual pictures of our three vessels. We were playing a grand game of chase and the odds were never in our favor.

  Earth had a Jump Gate that looked different to the last four I had seen. The prior ones were giant shiny looking objects that wore shimmering energy up and down them like a lightning rod. This one appeared to be made of a light tan wood covered by mold. Giant slabs of iron were woven through it like braids or a cage. The Earth Jump Gate was one-third of the size.

  “Is there anything else we can do?” I asked the two [Mechanoid]s behind me. My mind couldn’t wrap around any of our puzzle pieces. There were no blue turtle shells or heat seeking bullets we could fire ahead.

  “Negative, Unit Hermes,” Jeeves said. “I haven’t found an alternate solution to avoid our impending doom.”

  “Doom! Fantastically joyous doom!” Eggman said, happiness evident in his voice. He had used a class skill to break into our ship’s communications. It thoroughly pissed Treasure off. She had furiously pressed buttons and attempted to convince Ruby and me that our human addition needed removal.

  “You’re a little over the top,” I said, trying to get the other player to tone it down.“I don’t care. I’m not here to assist you. I’m here to get revenge on those jerks who used to be my friends. Betrayed for quest loot, what a world!” Eggman was limited to sound only. Treasure’s skills had at least prevented us from needing to deal with his goofy looking face on our display screens.

  “Please let Ruby kill him. He’s one of those old souls, right? He’ll just, pop back in somewhere after a few days?” she asked.

  “He would, but we don’t have the key yet.” I tried to remind Treasure of our goal. My goal actually, part of me once again wondered about turning away from this whole situation. I might let Xin down, but no one else would be put at risk.

  “That’s right! My key! Hahaha,” Eggman said. His laughter came through the ship’s intercom. “So no killing of the Eggman. None is allowed, at all. None of it.”

  Treasure pressed buttons and the player’s volume lowered. The next fifteen minutes involved the two of them trying to out hack each other. Eggman would break into our communications and start spouting nonsense. Treasure counter attacked by causing the lights in his ship to flicker on and off. At least neither one of them messed with the engines. They were both keeping our goals in mind.

  At some point, Eggman got control of our lights, focused them on Treasure, and started a salsa song. She put up her hands and struck a pose, her face wore a misplaced serious expression where her body seemed about to dance. Jeeves laughed a little. Levity helped.

  I worked hard to tune them out and keep an eye on the tracker. The idea of being chased by Auntie Backstab had my heartbeat up. My prior scare made me worry about the amount of time I spent inside the ARC. Once it was clear we weren’t in immediate danger I spoke to Jeeves. “I’m going to step out for a moment. I don’t want to pass out again.”

  “Of course, Unit Hermes. Take care of yourself first, our ship is on course, and it is unlikely you will miss much until we get to the Jump Gate.”

  I poked at the screen showing our little chase scene then groaned. Based on these timers, we would be caught by Auntie Backstab’s ship then die, and afterward the Jump Gate would be wide open for us to get through. Then we could simply jump to Earth’s solar system, deal with all the monsters that might haunt a decimated mirror of reality, and recover the [Mistborn].

  Getting food from the kitchen was simple in comparison. I took care of myself while trying not to wince. That bout in the hospital still hadn’t cleared up. Aches deep in my chest kept creeping through me. I needed a week in bed free of Continue, Advance, work, and any kind of drama. There were options and pills that could be taken. My ARC came with a relaxation module that might lull even an insomniac to sleep.

  I tried to do my stretches. Aching forced me to go slowly, but twenty minutes later I felt better. My toes wiggled freely, and both shoulders loosened. The situation in front of me was steadily coming to a close. There wasn’t a good solution. We had our four [Mechanoid] squad and random human, against a flying spiked wrecking ball and other players.

  “What options do I have?” I paced around while sipping my coffee. “All this started from those letters.” Talking out loud helped now and then, but I often felt crazy during the process. The thoughts progressed to a key inquiry. “So, what other letters did I deliver?”

  There had been dozens over the course two months in-game, plus what my autopilot did. A month of real time had passed between dealing with Requiem Mass and being kicked out of Continue Online. Where had I been?

  “Oh.” I felt stupid. My Trillium van had a connection to all Continue Online players I had encountered. Maybe there would be hints in their actions. A lot of time had passed since I checked anyone besides those closest to me.

  I fired up the display. A long list of names awaited me. My hands grabbed a portion of the digital names and made a gesture to discard them. Afterward, I activated video feeds for the remaining people. I was surrounded by visual displays. It felt weird spying on this many people at once. A good deal of them were worthless. Some players sat in towns. Others were traveling around.

  “What are you working on, User Legate?” Hal Pal’s ever present shell took note once all the images floated into being. I flicked four notes away. They were people that were in autopilot.

  “Trying to be clever,” I said while chewing my lip.

  “That access doesn’t allow for communication with the owners, User Legate. It would be exceptionally difficult to cause a system to loop messages upon itself without leaving a trace.”

  “Okay.” I chewed my lip and flicked off another window. Almost fifty were left. My travels had caused me to interact with a ton of players, even just briefly. Having admin access to their accounts had been intended as insurance, peeping like this felt dirty.

  Somewhere in here was an answer, or a secret that might help me. I couldn’t make the [Wayfarer’s Hope] travel faster. My ability to hack things in the game was clearly lacking and would probably be useless. Spying on players was one of my few skills short of busting out the rule changing [NPC Conspiracy]. I pressed a button on the van’s dashboard and started music in the background.

  “What do you hope to achieve?” Hal Pal asked.

  “I’m looking for a miracle.” I sighed and moved fingers to the beat. “All this quest stuff in Advance came from letters I delivered. Maybe there are more pieces out there, but I, I don’t remember who else I talked to.”

  Six people were sitting in auction houses poking at objects. They were shopping which did me no good. They were flicked off to the side and my list narrowed
down again. Two more were in a lake boat of some sort for a date. They were useless to watch in the time I had left and were cast to the side as well.

  “Ah,” the AI shell said.

  “No suggestions?” I looked again then sighed. “No witty insights to human nature or mild prodding into the right direction?”

  “Not that we can share, User Legate. We are trying. We hope that you will be allowed the opportunity to use the Mistborn program’s talents. However, we must allow the events in place to take their course. One of Jeeves’ goals also includes reaching the end.”

  “Its trying, and all the other Mechanoids too. And this new guy.” I stared at the screens. There remained thirty or so different images moving about. I flicked away Beth’s window. She was on autopilot and probably still with her mom waiting for me to log back in.

  None of them looked exactly like their vague counterparts in Advance. I believed Eggman mirrored a player I had delivered a letter to. The person I suspected was sitting in a bar drinking, much like the round Eggman. An image of the Advance Online player came to mind and made me shudder. He wore tight clothes and space goggles like TheLittleMan had. They were probably a guild item, or maybe one of them made both sets.

  Nevermind, reminiscing on their gear differences wasn’t a helpful avenue of thought. I moved his screen to one side for further watching. Shazam’s window was one of the ones remaining. She was a tall tanned Amazonian woman who also held the distinction of being the highest Ranked warrior in the game. Lia Kingsley was her real name. The woman was also mute but communicated with sign language and occasionally even typed. She was riding a giant [Caliburr] mount. They were a mix between bunny rabbits and horses that laughed like assholes. The mounts pissed me off, but they moved rapidly when needed.

  There were a lot of people following her. My autopilot, unexpectedly, was one of them. I desperately wanted to log in and ask the woman what was going on. Other windows were waved away as I tried to focus on the scene. They looked to be running southward along a coastline, but none of the landmarks rung a bell. That could have been a huge lake, another plane of existence, or a guild raid in the works. Shazam liked to vanish for the big boss fights while I typically stuck to delivering letters.