Continue Online The Complete Series

by Stephan Morse

  I answered my own phone with an irritated voice command. “Grant here.”

  “Mister Legate.” Vice President Riley’s face popped onto my screen.

  I blinked a few times. Her face was still plain though her hair looked a bit shorter. There was a ring around the woman’s eyes that felt more disheveled than the last time we conversed.

  “Miz Riley,” I said carefully. Part of my mind was in [Red Imp] mode. Rushing words together or avoiding real answers would not go over well with her.

  “Mister Legate, I wanted to talk to you personally about this, but there’s not enough time.” She avoided sighing, but her eyes seemed to yawn from exhaustion. “I had a report run on your ARC software and found that you’ve never confirmed having a Touchstone.”

  “A what?” My mind ran through all the ARC software I had been through over the years. Slowly, a vague memory sprung up. Touchstones were safety measures for the hyper-realistic mind-bender games.

  “A Touchstone. Based on your latest reports regarding the Voices, I believe you will find yourself in need of one soon,” Miz Riley said. Her gaze drifted away from the screen and focused on something else. She waved off to one side, shooing someone.

  “All right. I’ll do that,” I said.

  “Good. That’s excellent. All of our Beta testers were advised to create them, and they come as a standard warning on horror games.” This time a sigh did escape her. She seemed to be waving someone off again but wasn’t getting the desired response. “If you’re ever in doubt about our communications, please come see me in person.”

  “Okay.” I was afraid to put too much thought into that. She had implied before that technology might not be trustworthy. Given the realism of the Voices, I was on the fence myself. Not that self-doubt was stopping me from logging in each night.

  “Very well. Keep filing your reports. I am reading them. Farewell, Mister Legate,” Vice President Riley said. A strand of hair that had been pinned back fell forward across her face, making the woman look even more disheveled.

  “Bye.” The word didn’t even make it out of my mouth before our call disconnected.

  I fired up the ARC display and took a look at Continue Online’s preview window. Requiem was fighting something with my [Red Imp] form freely using [Blink] to get around. Clearly the secret was out, so even my autopilot didn’t care. They were moving a lot faster through the dungeon.

  Maybe now using the skill would get easier. Even my autopilot’s reduced skill growth helped. The ability took a large portion of mana with each cast. It also required a huge amount of [Focus]. No wonder most people preferred saying the spells out loud, even if they sounded like poems from a teenager’s diary.

  No. I would stick with my voiceless spell for however long the [Red Imp] character existed. Requiem Mass could chain-cast fireballs without using words, so I should be able to [Blink] around effortlessly after enough practice. The trick was thinking about it hard enough that the ARC adapted correctly.

  A few hours passed outside while I created my Touchstone. There were fairly simple suggestions on how to use one. Most people put something small, written with words, near the ARC. It had to be out of place, and a clear message that no one else could predict. Some games enjoyed having mind-benders in them and would create lifelike simulations of places people knew. Touchstones helped separate fiction and reality.

  After mine was in place under the bed, I logged back into the [Red Imp] body. Requiem seemed unaware of the changeover between AI and human. We traveled through a few more of the tunnel’s twists and turns. There were other little monsters, but nothing that Requiem couldn’t handle on his own. I floated behind, wondering if my choice had been the right one. We were only halfway through this dungeon according to him.

  Supposedly there was a bigger boss creature down below. There was also this stupid item’s description about another half. I had wasted my loot choice on an object that needed both parts to work. It was aggravating but somehow expected.

  “Howmuch farther?” I asked.

  “An hour, maybe two tops. We’ll have to rest up here.” Requiem took items out of his player inventory and started setting up a small camp. “We have to clear this place tonight and move on to the main castle. If everything goes right, I’ll have all the tools needed to kill Freakinstain and get his half of the key.” The Traveler kept pulling out items, quaffing potions that made his face twist, putting on better armor.

  “Key?” A squeak escaped me. I watched him discard one set of boots for another.

  “Yes. The very one needed for this quest you’re so insistent upon.” Requiem sounded upbeat about finishing the quest. I know it made me happy to think about this strange adventure being over.

  “Iam. Thenwe canbe done withthisplace,” I said happily.

  Beth, my niece, had said that quests sometimes had layers. That occasionally another way through could be found. According to the Voices’ original description, this method should work. The Voices had clearly stated their only reason for wanting Requiem dead, in-game, was because he hadn’t completed the mission yet.

  “Eat up,” Requiem said.

  He gestured to a pile of burned food. It looked worse than the cupcake had. This young man knew nothing of cooking.

  “Fine.” I tried not to think about the taste. His food did provide a small buff to my mana regeneration. Working with him might be far better than working against him. Especially if this objective could be completed without murder.

  We sat in camp while Requiem did a whole slew of preparations. He put oils on both the swords and checked the armor over. His body moved around through a series of stretches to temporarily increase his [Limberness]. The Traveler even ate his own food. That last one made my expression turn to temporary disgust.

  I, of course, was left to my own [Red Imp] devices. For the most part, it consisted of shifting my weapon into other forms and trying to better use [Blink]. In the time it took Requiem to finish his farting around, I managed to make another thirty-something attempts and got [Blink] to Rank Two.

  Reward:

  For reaching 75% Synchronization, you will gain further access to racial skills.

  Unlocked!

  Rank 3 synchronization – additional changes

  [Awareness Heightening] skill granted

  [Pointier Points] skill granted

  When I wasn’t low on mana from [Blink] attempts, my mind focused on the new skills. [Awareness Heightening] seemed to use the ARC’s compression system to provide me a different perception of time. Using it felt like every event where the Voices had spoken rapidly over my head, only not as intense. [Awareness Heightening] was closer to when I had watched the [Detached Vitreous] fall with loot.

  [Pointier Points] was tied to my tail and teeth. They were even sharper, so the first thing I did was accidentally stab my own leg. That made Requiem pause in his preparations for a bout of laughter. It made me frown while giving the twisting tail a glare. The silly thing had a mind of its own most days.

  “Time to go.” Requiem stood, and everything from our little camp went back in his inventory. The younger man carried around far too many items for my liking.

  “Okay. Letsgokill thiswhateverthing,” I said rather happily. We were finally making progress.

  “Just down here,” Requiem said.

  We stepped into a much larger cavern with a giant torch illuminating the room. My [Dark Vision] flipped off.

  “Perfect. We can avoid the boss,” he said while looking around at the new room. This was smaller than the [Detached Vitreous]‘s cavern. The back wall with a torch seemed flat and three stories tall.

  “How thewhat?” I asked.

  “You stand over there, and I’ll stand over here.” Requiem pointed at the ground.

  There were two circles, one red and one green. I was fairly sure [Red Imp]s hated green, but that was the one he had ordered me to stand in.

  I was kind of working with the young man now, even after weeks of tryi
ng to kill him. If we got along and completed everything, then there would be no need for further unpleasantness.

  “Okay. Overhere.” I flew across the distance. Between our two standing markers was something that looked like a coffin. This body was absurdly short and couldn’t get a good view inside it.

  “All right, now stay there and don’t move until I tell you to,” he ordered.

  Now I was stuck in place regardless of my cooperation or not. Some orders were easier to loophole than others.

  We stood in our spots, and the room rumbled suddenly. I looked up, worried that another eyeball might float down and cast ugly icy bolts in my direction. No such thing happened.

  The torch lighting up the giant cavern dimmed slowly, and the top portion of the coffin slid off to one side.

  “Excellent.” Requiem dashed over and looked inside. Soon he was laughing, not a friendly happy laugh, not a good joke laugh, but the kind of amusement that went with triumph over one’s enemies and possible world domination.

  “What isit?” I shouted while trying to at least fly up.

  Shame on you for disobeying a simple order

  Total health loss: 90%

  “Good. This is exactly what I needed.” Requiem nodded and pulled something out of the coffin. Bones snapped under their own weight, leaving behind a dull-looking necklace with an eye on it. The Traveler lifted his new piece of equipment, then slid it over his head.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Your replacement. With this necklace, I no longer need you.” Requiem turned so I could see the necklace easier. It glinted briefly and seemed to suck in more light. The torch up above still burned, but its flame had tilted in his direction.

  “Okay? But Ithought we werekilling that Freakinstain guy?” I said while ruffling my eyebrows together. A quick glance around revealed only one real exit out of here. Why then had Requiem done all the preparation ahead of time?

  “You think I would ever work with you? You were only there to serve as a tool, and you clearly didn’t intend to do even that.” Requiem Mass smiled.

  “We havea contract based on completing yourmission.” I tried to sound firm. My face felt cold and my skin clammy. This was not how things were intended to go at all. He was screwing me over, and the Voices had me locked into this character until the quest was completed or Requiem released my [Red Imp] summons.

  “Oh no. You, you’re still my familiar, and because of that, you can sit down here until I dismiss you.” Requiem walked over and poked my chubby belly.

  “When is that?” I said slowly.

  “Eventually. Once I kill Freakinstain. Once I take this place for all it’s worth.” Requiem smiled at me.

  I thought about stabbing him with the [Echo of Morrigu’s Gift], but the system meted out more damage.

  That made the Traveler grin even wider. “And when there’s nothing left to milk from this place, then I’ll release you.”

  With that, Requiem left the room at high speeds. He had both swords out and seemed intent upon escaping.

  The wall behind the empty coffin, where the torch sat with a dim remainder of light, groaned slowly. I turned and looked up while feeling abandoned, betrayed, and worried about the future of my quest to help Xin. The torchlight faded while the wall vibrated even more.

  [Dark Vision] kicked in, and the entire wall became visible.

  It was a giant face missing one eye. The orb that remained was staring at me. There certainly was a theme to this underground dungeon, and it stared me in the face.

  “Requiem! I’llstab you!” I shouted.

  The wall groaned again while lips curled on either side to form a demented smile. My gaze traveled between the tunnel out and the wall looming over me.

  Today had been going so well.

  Session Thirty-Six — Spite Unbound

  One gross eye peered out of a muddy face to stare down at me. I remained inside the circle, which glowed a light green. Standing here reminded me of the [Red Imp]‘s natural dislike for this color. It made perfect sense now. I was also learning to detest it.

  Had the Voices seen far enough ahead to give me this warning? Maybe if I had stayed true to the character, I could have protested my way out of standing on this side. If Requiem hadn’t ordered me to stay then I might have been able to flap away.

  “Let’s faceit.” I glanced around. “Neither of us expectedthis.”

  The wall groaned again. Probably from my bad pun. No, wait, something else was going on. I looked up. The face looked tired. The eyeball staring at me was heavy-lidded. It had been hard to tell because the eyelid was made of crumbling dirt.

  “Rockabye baby?” I tried to hum, but damage spiked through with a message regarding my order violation. “Aggghh.”

  I tried to move away from the evil green circle, but another rod of pain crippled my character before I even got anywhere. The ARC feedback was muted, so it only felt like slamming my head into a wall or bending a finger out of the socket. Neither one was worth risking repeatedly to break away from a boring situation.

  So we sat there for ten minutes, just the wall and me. Well, the autopilot sat there while I dove off to the bathroom and downed a cup of coffee. The [Red Imp] was still unmoved a few minutes later, which was good, I guessed.

  None of my normal tricks worked. I tried to cite cases where Requiem had told me to move in hopes that the computer would accept those as a counterorder. Tapping my feet slowly to the beat of a lullaby didn’t put the creature to sleep. The [Echo of Morrigu’s Gift] might be able to turn into a flute if I tried hard enough, but woodwinds were beyond my skills.

  The other option available to me was enduring the pain until my health bar reached zero. That would release the [Red Imp] and put my mind back into Hermes. Okay, I could do that. It would hurt. Inflicting pain upon myself was much different than letting it happen. My foot lifted and teeth clenched.

  “What in the unholy depths of Taurus has happened here?” a new voice exclaimed.

  “What? Whosethere and whatdoyou want?” I barely righted myself from the potential damage. My foot went back down as I whirled around. The wall wasn’t talking; it still looked sleepy.

  “Oh, hey, the little demon mongrel,” the new person said.

  “Ah! PoserMan!” I shouted and stabbed rapidly at the air between us. The pitchfork didn’t look menacing enough on my short frame.

  “Frankenstein, if you please.” He was a goofy-looking Traveler. About his neck was the rippled white fabric with a popped up collar. His shiny curled boots were new. At some point in the last few weeks, he had fixed the uneven sleeves on his coat.

  “Freakinstain!” I happily corrected myself. “What areyou doinghere?”

  Maybe if he got close enough, I could jab my weapon through his eye while cackling madly. The thought of casually murdering another player made me feel chilled for a moment. I decided attacking Frankenstein wouldn’t be in character.

  “Well, I was checking on my pet project, only to find that half of them are dead. I assume that fool Requisite Ass has something to do with this?” Frankenstein waved one hand at the giant mud face.

  “What?” I squeaked.

  “You’re in my dungeon, little demon runt.” PoserMan glanced at me. All he needed to pull off the completely over-the-top look was a pair of shades. Maybe square ones that glinted even without sunlight.

  “Littlerunt is redundant. Runt implieslittle. Youarestupid too.” I gave a glare to convey how I felt about his intelligence level. This guy irked me slightly more than Requiem.

  “What? Hey, I’m working on a vibe here. Stop disrupting my flow.” Frankenstein actually looked wounded. He tugged at the collar to make sure it was in position. “Method acting, you know?”

  “Waitwhat?” I was floored. The guy was acting like a poser on purpose? That was far worse than me pretending to be a [Red Imp]! Hopefully it was worse anyway.

  “Yeah. It’s an act. Now, where was I? Oh!” He turned to the giant fac
e and raised both his arms.

  “Whywould youact so stupid?” I shouted.

  “Look, little demon runt guy, I spend all day long dealing with legal babble in my world.” Frankenstein or whatever his name was affronted. He swished a strand of hair out of his face, checked the collar once again, and walked over to me. He tapped his chest. “I think I deserve to let my hair down and have fun.”

  “This isfun?” I should have stabbed him in the eye. By the time it occurred to me that I could try to kill him and then deal with Requiem, the other Traveler was too far away.

  “Bah. Demons have no sense of humor, not like my minions. Now.” He turned and raised his arms again. “Oh, Great Lord! I call upon you to awaken from thine slumber!”

  “Thine?” PoserMan was clearly an inadequate nickname.

  The wall moved a little faster. It groaned and shook while dirt fell in clumps from the ceiling. I looked up in fear that another giant spike was sitting up above, waiting to impale me in some twisted sense of irony.

  The room kept moving and the face in the wall pulled back a little bit. Dirt slipped all around us to fill in the small gap. Finally, the rumbling knocked me off my tiny weak [Red Imp] legs. A fresh round of pain shot through my neck.

  “C’mon!” I shouted. That wasn’t even my fault. This game was being a jerk now. “I hatethis contract!”

  “Shut up, little demon. I’m working here.” Frankenstein didn’t sound rude, more like absently reminding me. It was annoying to be talked to as though I was a small child in the presence of grown-ups. This [Red Imp] body may be short, but I was a damned adult.

  “Youshut up!” I shouted back, feeling extremely irritated. Being trapped in a circle was bad enough. Having Frankenstein here added salt to the wound.

  He lost himself and yelled back, “No, you!”

  “No youshutup now!” I barked.

  Trying to be intimidating was useless since Frankenstein was at least three times my height. He raised one preened eyebrow and looked confused. “Why am I arguing with you? This is why I prefer the undead.” He shook his head quickly.