Aspirant 2: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Maxx Whittaker

  For a moment, my mouth just works. “Nothing?”

  “Yes.”

  “After all this? You won’t stop us? Or help us?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  Three rises and sheathes his blade at his back. “Self-interest,” he says simply.

  Syl stands first. “That is not honorable.”

  Three shrugs. “I don’t care. Let me put this simply.” He takes us in a moment, face still unreadable. “If you succeed in your mission, then this benefits me. The threat of the Threvians is gone. They have acted strangely, of late. Their people have returned to their ships. In game, their avatars have retreated to their bastion in the Northern Expanse. They have not been heard from in weeks.”

  “That sounds… Ominous.”

  “Who can know? At any rate, if you drive them away, the world will benefit. We can rebuild. Prepare, now that we know we aren’t alone.”

  “And none of this sounds like a good enough reason to help us?” Astra points an accusing finger. “Why?”

  “Because I think you will fail.”

  “Oh. Great.” I grit my teeth. “We’ve done pretty well so far.”

  “Granted. Though some of it was luck, and some was an AI that decided to break with her programming. But what you would have to accomplish to truly succeed in this task…” For the first time, his eyes change. There’s something in them other than cold indifference.

  Sympathy. For some reason, that’s scarier than nothing at all.

  “If you fail, my existence here continues.” He waves to the front room. “The Ten enjoy a certain status in Lifestream. I have everything I need. Everything I could ever want.”

  “Aside from freedom,” I counter.

  “Freedom is an illusion.” Three lays his palms on the table. “Were my employees free before the Threvians arrived? Shackled by debt and lives devoid of meaningful choice? Working for their pittance so they could buy beer and porn?” He laughs. “I’m almost grateful for the purge, sometimes,” he says.

  “How can you say that?” Mika spits.

  “I was part of a system that oppressed all but the rich. And now it’s broken. If you succeed, we can build something better. If you fail, it is still broken. And I will still be here. Waiting.” He turns away. “Waiting for the next… Aspirants to the throne.”

  I slump. This conversation is clearly over. I stand, nodding to the others.

  At least we’re not dead.

  “We are free to go?”

  “Yes. Justin, please accompany them.”

  Justin?

  Wick straightens, and his combination of terror and outrage would be hilarious at any other time. “Hey, I’m not a tool to be given away–”

  “You led them into my bar. Threatened my peace with knowledge of their existence. I will have to make amends with the Obsidians, and with Seven, for the dead guild member and the one stolen,” he says, gesturing to Dusk. “So yes. You will help them.”

  Wick glances to me, swallows. I will him to shut the hell up. Three doesn’t seem like the ‘say it twice’ kind of guy. “Okay,” he finally says.

  “You may depart from the back door. If I’m not mistaken, Justin knows of a place you can hide.” Three turns back to us, his movement so subtle it’s like a dance. “I will cover your passage for now. There are approximately four Obsidian in the city, excluding your new ‘companion’ and the corpse in my taproom. None are close. If you move quickly, you should be fine.”

  Should. “Good enough. After what we’ve been through, those are odds we can deal with.”

  Another almost invisible smile. “Excellent. And I will offer one last word of advice.”

  “Helping us, after all?”

  “What I offer provides no further risk to me.” His smile is paper thin. “Avoid my guildmates if you can,” he continues. “They are not all as… indifferent… as I am. Many will cling to the little kingdoms they’ve built for themselves. Many are proud. They will view you, and your mission, as a threat.”

  Nine people that are basically gods in this place set against us? Fantastic. Our odds just keep getting better.

  He turns to go. Considering the fact that he can disappear at will, this seems more for our benefit than his. A final message that he’s done.

  I can’t help but push my luck. “Three.”

  He pauses.

  “If I can ask another question that poses no threat to you and costs you nothing…”

  He rotates like his muscles barely work. “Ask.”

  “The Threvian stronghold. You said it was in the Northern Expanse. How do we get there?”

  He considers. “Normally, you don’t. Not at your level.” He raises a finger, stalling my protest. “Yes. I know you have abilities beyond your progression thanks to the program you escaped from. It won’t be enough.”

  “I hear a ‘but’ in there…” Mika says.

  “Yes. You can fly.”

  She shrivels. “We’re probably a long way off from being able to afford flying mounts.”

  “What about an airship?” Astra asks. “We saw some from outside the city, remember?”

  Wick groans. “Expensive. And most are owned by the elite. They’re impossible to sneak aboard, and good luck finding one going that far north.”

  I snap my fingers. “What about one of those runes? Like the one that brought us here?”

  “You had a rune?” Wick shakes his head. “And a healing potion? Shit. Maybe you guys have a chance after all, because the sun’s shining out of the Lord’s asshole for ya.”

  “Wick…”

  “The teleportation runes won’t help you,” Three says.

  “Yeah, they only port to major hubs. Like Acheryx or the Stormspire. None of the are anywhere close to the Northern Expanse.” Wick shrugs apologetically. “Sorry.”

  Mika slaps the table. “The hub cavern! That’s just outside the city. We could head back that way and–“

  Wick holds up a paw. “No good. Most of the portals are level restricted. You’d have to grind a long time to be able to use any of them.”

  I slump. “Damn. So, an airship’s our only bet.”

  “If that’s all,” Three says in a voice that says it had better be, “I will take my leave.”

  “Thank you. I–”

  He’s gone.

  Mika rolls her eyes. “Drama queen.”

  I laugh. It feels good after an hour of anus clenching tension. “He probably heard that.”

  Syl takes Dusk’s arms. “The back door is open. It was not a moment before.”

  She’s right. It sits wide, and the scent of the breeze gently whispers through the room. The fire flickers at its passage. It must lead outside.

  I nod to Wick. “You know the place Three was talking about? Somewhere we can hide?”

  Wick stands like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. It’s endearing how much pure attitude he packs into the one movement, and it reminds me of every teenager I’ve ever known that was asked to do chores or babysit their siblings. “Yeah,” he says. “I know a place.”

  “Lead on,” Mika says, ruffling the fur between his ears.

  He leans into it. “Keep doing that and maybe this job won’t be so bad.”

  “Just don’t go any lower,” I call as they pass through the door, Syl and Dusk flanking them. Mika’s laughter floats back into the room.

  Astra pecks my cheek as she passes. “Talked us out of that one. Well done.”

  I turn back to the empty room. “Thank you, Three.” I turn and duck out, not sure if he heard me.

  I don’t think it matters, anyway.

  16

  Acheryx Streets

  Player: Sam

  Level 4

  When I think of the word “hideout,” a few things come to mind. Dank basements filled with old crates. Dusty lofts barely visited by their owners. Hidden alcoves in equally hidden parks. Shady dealings and shadier people.

  Anything but an apartment b
uilding.

  “Seriously?” Mika says, hands on her hips as she takes in the roughly fifteen story structure. “Your hiding spot is a Hilton?”

  “What’s a Hilton?” Wick mounts the wide brick front steps, waving a paw. “Never mind. We’re on the fifth floor. Hurry.”

  He doesn’t have to tell us twice. The seven-block trip from Three’s to this spot was a nerve-wracking combination of anxiety, fear, and absolute weirdness. The few hundred people we passed were as varied as those we saw in the cave. But where those were uniformly warriors and merchants ready to take on the harsh world of Lifestream, Acheryx is a different animal altogether. There were plenty of towering knights decked in plate and blade or mages with glowy runes and glowier staves. But mixed in are people that clearly have no interest in levelling and fighting. Families with bickering children threaded through our group with muttered apologies. People with skins from videogames, comics, and movies that looked like they spend their lives city bound loitered on city corners or sat at street side cafes. At one point, we rounded a corner only to see Anakin Skywalker sipping coffee with the lead guy from Cowboy Bebop. I can’ t remember his name. Spike something.

  “People actually chose those as their in-game skins?” I whispered, trying not to stare.

  “The internet was a weird place before you could live in it,” Mika said, a broad smile on her face. She’s enjoying this way too much.

  Anakin had noticed her noticing him and gave her a broad grin with a wave. I ushered her on as she’d laughed. Chances are he’d seen a hot Asian girl with black and purple hair and skintight leather and thought shwing! But I can’t shake the fear that any one of these people might know who we are. Might be a friend of an Obsidian, waiting for us to pass so they can hiss our location into a James Bond style wristwatch or something.

  It doesn’t help that the Corroc head bounces at my hip with each long stride. Apparently, carrying a monster token through town is in poor taste. But Wick’s assured us that it’s worth holding on to, and is worth a boatload, so we deal with the smell and the stares.

  We make it to Wick’s hideout with no incident aside from having to skirt around a street fight involving a few people in Mortal Kombat skins. It’s exhausting, holding onto the nervous fear that we’re being watched as nothing happens, and is definitely another example of me almost preferring action to anticipation.

  The inside of the building is strange; there’s no common area or lobby. Just a set of stairs that Wick leads us to without hesitation. “I dislike this place,” Syl whispers, eyes darting to empty corners.

  “I tend to agree with you,” I say, “but it seems innocent enough.”

  “Human habitations are off-putting. Claustrophobic.” She ducks through the doorway into the stairwell. “They do not provide adequate escape vectors or–”

  “Adequate escape vectors,” Dusk mocks. “Shit, is this girl for real?”

  I’m tempted to use my power to slap her and have to restrain myself. Mika’s face reddens, and it looks like she wants to light the Obsidian on fire right then and there, but instead she looks to Syl. We both know she can fight her own battles.

  The Threvian barely looks at Dusk. “Do you disagree with my assessment?”

  “Disagree with your…” Dusk blinks. “No. You’re absolutely right. But that’s not the point.”

  “Please enlighten us,” Astra says.

  “Look, I don’t know if you kids are just crazy nutbars that actually believe all that shit you spewed back there or what, but she’s the worst,” she says, jerking a thumb at Syl. “Either she’s the only idiot in the game tasteless enough to pretend to be Threvian, or she actually is one. I don’t know which is worse.” She wrinkles her pert nose. “And the fact that her skin is human? Like, how deep does the crazy go?”

  “This is not my skin,” Syl says evenly. I’m not sure how she stays so calm. “This is a disguise.”

  “Right. Sure.” Dusk rolls her eyes. “Like I said–”

  “I think you’ve said plenty.” I turn to her, letting every ounce of the cold kernel of rage that sits in my chest show in my eyes. “We’re stuck with you for a few days max. Hopefully. Whether you spend that time gagged is up to you.”

  She draws up, proud and haughty, mouth opening to deliver some blistering rebuttal. Before she can speak, I shove a plug of air into her mouth. I let it dissipate almost instantly, but she chokes on it, doubling over and bracing a hand on the wall.

  Mika snickers and moves on with the others. I wait for Dusk to finish her theatrics. When she finally stands, she pushes past me roughly, sparing me one murderous glance.

  But she doesn’t say shit.

  Wick’s at the top of the stairs when we hit the fifth floor. He glances at Dusk nervously as she passes, then elbows me. “Dude, seriously?” he whispers. “Maybe try not to piss off the super dangerous chick with the way more dangerous guild any more than she already is?”

  I pat him on the head. “Don’t worry. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  I hope.

  He makes noise that’s way more cat than human before darting down the hallway. The girls stand, milling in front of the only doorway. The hall is undecorated and perfectly bland, and the door looks like every apartment entrance in the history of Earth had a baby.

  “Not that one,” Wick says, pushing through them and motioning us on. He stops at the empty end of the hall.

  “Lemme guess. Another secret lock?” Mika asks, rubbing her hands. “I bet I can find this one myself.”

  “Guess again, thiccness,” he grins, reaching into a pocket at his belt.

  “Thiccness,” she repeats, eyeing me. “I kind of like that.” Wick beams and she bops him on the head. “Just not from you.”

  He grumbles as he pulls free a tiny stone. It looks like the one Havel gave us to teleport with earlier, just ten times smaller. The silver etched rune glows faintly as he presses a paw to it. “Front door key.”

  A section of wall shimmers, revealing a door that looks exactly like the one from before. “Illusion?” I step up to it, reaching for the knob. “Cool.”

  “Wait!” He shouts as he bats my hand away. He points at two tiny black points in the top frame of the door. “Booby traps.”

  “Ah. Thanks.” I swallow. “What do they do?”

  “Not sure. I inherited this place from a friend.” He presses the rune to a seemingly random spot on the door. The frame flashes bright white, and when it fades the black points are gone. “Could be like, super melty acid. Flames. Who knows?”

  “Something tells me they won’t stop an Obsidian if they find us,” Astra says.

  “Not even for a moment,” Dusk says. “I noticed them the moment we arrived.”

  “Thanks for the heads up,” I mutter, reaching for the knob way more tentatively than before.

  The apartment itself isn’t even close to what I’d imagined.

  Well, it would be if I’d imagined a normal apartment. “This is so weird,” I say, stepping into the living room.

  “Right?” Mika shakes her head. “What the hell?”

  It’s a decent sized apartment. The living room is expansive with a nice if unimaginative assortment of couches, end tables, and chairs. A huge TV dominates one wall. Plants sit in the corners, vibrant green even though I’m sure they haven’t been fed in a while based on where we found Wick. Door frames reveal hints of bedrooms and a kitchen.

  “It’s like my…” Astra stops. “Elise’s first place,” she finishes with a guilty duck of her head.

  “Yeah, this is… not what I expected.” I rub her shoulder, letting her know that no one cares about her slip.

  “Maybe it’s the sense of normalcy?” Mika plops in an overstuffed chair, wiggling back and forth in a ridiculously distracting way as she closes her eyes and sighs.

  “What do you mean?” I manage when her tits stop bouncing.

  She gives me a knowing look before her expression turns serious. “I don’t know what it’
s like in the world these days, but something tells me luxury and comfort are hard to come by. Is it weird that people would remake something like their home in game? Especially if they’d lost it in real life?”

  Before I can answer, Dusk snorts. “That’s deep, Plato.”

  Mika’s cheeks pink, but to her credit, she doesn’t rise to the bait. “I think it’s nice.”

  “Yeah, I can spend a few days here.” I ruffle Wick’s head and toss the Corroc head in the corner where it bounces and leaves a black smudge. “Nice job. You said you inherited this place?”

  He sits on a brown faux leather couch, sinking deep in its cushions. “Kinda.”

  “What you do mean, kinda? You pull it off some poor slob’s corpse like you were planning to do to us?”

  “Wish that had worked out better,” Dusk says.

  “I swear, if she doesn’t shut up, I’m going to kill her,” Astra says.

  “I could cut out her tongue.” Syl extends one claw. “It would be painful, but she would not die.”

  “Try it, freak,” Dusk says, backing into a corner.

  “He was my friend!” Wick interjects, eyes a little wild. The situation defuses, and my estimation of him rises a notch. “In life. Went to junior high with him, and we met up in game after… After everything.” His whiskers droop. “He was a lot higher level than me. Had this place and some chips. Took me in. And then, one day, he was gone. Found his body incap over in the bedroom. Gave him a month but… But he never logged back in.” He looks away.

  “Incap?”

  “When you log out, your body sticks around. Makes you careful where and when,” he says, obviously grateful to change the subject. “Gotta make sure you do it around people you trust or bad things can happen.”

  Mika shivers. “That sounds gross.”

  Syl prowls the edge of the room, searching its nooks and crannies. “May I remove this disguise?”

  “Oh, sure,” Astra says, stepping in front of her. “Sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.”

  She raises her hand and touches Syl between the breasts. Instantly, the alien’s clothes and skin turn silver and then melt away, trickling back into Astra. In moments, she’s back to her normal self; feral and stunning.