Fusion (Somnia Online Book 6)

by K. T. Hanna

  “I’m not sure.” She pushed it to the back of her mind, determined not to let it get in the way of her work again.

  “Don’t get dead. Don’t get hit. That’s your philosophy, right?” Havoc wasn’t looking at her while he spoke, but at the battlefield and his pet, directing it in the best possible way forward. “This fight might not seem difficult on the surface, but we know this is probably deceptive. So we need you to step it up, okay?”

  She nodded, feeling guilty for having been so oblivious to portions of her abilities, for having let the abilities she’d subverted shock her enough that she lost her grounding. In the middle of a raid, no less. Where other guilds were watching. She couldn’t let her abilities get out of hand, and if they happened to, she couldn’t dwell on it.

  “You’re right.” Because he was. She squared her shoulders and focused on the battle below her, really taking in the sheer magnitude of the snake in front of her.

  Its red and purple scales rose out of the hole and there was barely any space for something to squeeze between the sides of it and her snaky skin. Murmur analyzed it, knowing it had to have some sort of weakness somewhere. She glanced to the side of her, watching the others, thoughtfully.

  The only place she witnessed it flinch when it was hit was just below where the hood and skin joined.

  Aim for the hood and skin join. She let it out over raid chat. It was the only way she could even think of possibly defeating this monster. Its regeneration was insane. They only chipped away at its health, one minuscule hundredth of a percentage at a time. She was fairly certain it would have one hell of a special ability but was waiting for the right time to let it loose.

  The Anguaisch let out a roaring hiss, so loud it stung Murmur’s ears. Its tongue lashed out, but Devlish got his shield up in time to deflect it, dealing lightning damage to the thing. Since the tongue had been wet, the damage increased, and the monster pulled away, backing up with its hood flared in anger even as arrows and spells began to wear a red line around the neck of the beast.

  “Keep it up!” Devlish called out, his voice ringing loudly through the chamber.

  Murmur kept glancing around, her own discomfort sealed away in a place she could access later. This fight seemed too easy. With their opponent’s reduced hit points, it made sense for it to use a special attack soon, but there was no sign of it. Murmur began to worry that she’d missed something. Massive room with a round bowl in the center. The drain in the middle where the Anguaisch was poking through. Doors that hadn’t opened up here on the upper level and probably wouldn’t until they’d defeated their opponent.

  But why was this mob so, well…boring?

  Reinforcing her sensor nets, she inspected the beast as subtly as she could. It wasn’t scared. In pain, sure, but not scared. It almost seemed like it was biding its time for something to trigger or for something to happen.

  Keeping her debuffs up on the Anguaisch, she continued to scan it, even closer now as the sense of dread rose in her stomach. There were no emotions or direct thoughts for her to latch onto. Nothing for her to get a grip of, to figure out properly. There was nothing she could see in a psychic scan. Which meant that perhaps it wasn’t something that could come out through her type of sensory indicators anyway. Maybe only a healer could find what was wrong with that body then.

  Right then, it turned its gaze slightly and fixated on her for two heartbeats. As much as it could, a smile spread across its face, even though she didn’t think she was on its aggro list. Its tongue flicked out with a hiss, like it was beckoning her to come over to it. She pulled back within herself, reducing the presence of what she was doing as much as she could.

  It was almost like it was biding its time, fighting back just enough, playing with them.

  She nudged Havoc. “You can scan for imperfections in a body, right?” She didn’t like the idea that was forming in her mind, but she had to pursue it, just in case it was correct. If it turned out to be incorrect, she’d be so relieved.

  The concentration it took to play his class was reflected on his face as he gritted out, “Sure,” through clenched teeth.

  Her impatience only made the wait worse. Keeping up her debuffs was reflex these days. As its health dropped lower, her sense of unease grew. Sure, it had random spurts of venom, random tail swipes, fang lunges. But overall, these were mundane attacks that barely caused any damage comparative to the creature’s size. They didn’t even increase in intensity the further the fight went on. Surely this wasn’t all. How could such a feeling of smugness emanate from their opponent? Did it want to die, was that its purpose?

  She glanced at Havoc, aware of just how much damage he could build up to over time. He was close to Devlish’s threat meter by now, sitting just under Jirald. Probably on purpose so if something went haywire with the agro, Jirald would take the brunt of it. It’s what she would have done.

  She shifted her attention to the crater in the room. Not the snake wedged in it, but the actual hole itself. The way it dipped to that very middle point and had the safe wall ledge up and around that point. An idea hit her, one that she didn’t even want to contemplate. Surely that couldn’t be it? If she was right, the entire room and fight had been designed that way.

  “Mur. I think that thing…” Havoc’s face was pale as he spoke, his eyes never leaving the target. “Its body is built like a detonator.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s literally a ticking time bomb, except the timer is its health,” she muttered while trying to figure out what best to do once they triggered that timer. She’d probably have to use her Forestall Death on Devlish again, as long as she could time it perfectly with his cooldowns, they should be fine. Technically.

  “You think around ten percent?” Murmur asked, listening intently because the din of the battle echoed through the chamber.

  “Yeah. As a countdown trigger. Dev will need to—” He grimaced as he directed Leeroy back into the fight after a particularly nasty knockback.

  “I know.” She could feel Havoc looking over at her before he nodded. While she was fairly certain the countdown would begin at ten percent, she had no idea what it would be, or how it would affect the rest of the Anguaisch’s health.

  She announced it over raid chat. When the Anguaisch hits ten percent, all melee needs to retreat to the border where the ranged stand. Ranged attacks only. Devlish will remain as tank to keep its aggro.

  Why? Jirald asked. His irritability showed even through the raid chat. The thing was, it echoed the discontent she could feel from several of the other melee fighters who hadn’t fought with her before. Hell, from the eighteen players who weren’t in her guild.

  Feel free to remain in there and pad your damage meters before you get blown up. I only have one free pass, and that goes to Dev. She let the words hang there and felt pressure like never before to be right about this. But Havoc had as good as confirmed her suspicions. If they weren’t right, at least they were safe.

  No one else said anything, and while she could feel the rest of them accept her directions, she could also sense the hatred burning in Jirald. They weren’t even the same class anymore, so she didn’t understand his radiating dislike of her. At least she wasn’t alone with him. At least there were twenty-eight other people.

  Ready cooldowns, Devlish grunted out between clenched teeth. Let loose once the melee is clear.

  They were so close now. Twelve percent of a hellishly otherwise boring fight left to go. Tedium never sat well with raiders.

  Murmur sent a message to Veranol. Can you shield the raid with that thing you do? It’ll need to be timed right, but I’ve got Dev with Forestall Death.

  Veranol: It’s going to explode, isn’t it?

  You know me so well, Murmur quipped, watching as the health dropped to eleven percent, and then ten. The melee ran out, filing in between the ranged attackers all around the outskirts of the room. Hope
fully outside of the blast radius.

  Havoc would sacrifice his pet, Veranol would use his ward, and Murmur would save Devlish. At least, she hoped she would. Technically it was the perfect plan. It was all just a matter of precise timing.

  Cooldowns released, as the Anguaisch’s hood deflated, detaching in several spots around its neck. Black blood gushed down its body. Its health dwindled fast, fueling a pool beneath it that flowed into the hole it stuck out of. As it ticked down to two percent, it was like the thing grinned, its gaze directly focused on Murmur.

  The sensation of those eyes resting on her felt sickly, like it reached inside her and knew her darkest parts, her most insecure moments, and then it blinked as it hit one percent.

  She almost missed the moment the explosion occurred. Luckily, reflexes saved her, or, more precisely, saved Devlish. She cast Forestall Death the split second before the explosion rained down on the raid, just as his health was draining to the last drop.

  Bubbling up through the hole it was wedged in, from the tiny sliver all the way around Anguaisch, a fiery sludge exploded. It rained up into the air like a fountain, spraying wide enough to fill the entire basin they’d been in only minutes before. It reached all the way to the edge of the lip they stood on. Only the shields cast by those quick-thinking players protected them from burning away in the acidic venom that splashed up from the landing.

  Devlish’s body lay on the floor close to the drain as the acid rained down, protected by Murmur’s kinetic shielding for the full twelve seconds of the onslaught. Finally, what was left of the acid began to seep down into the drain again, to wait for the next unsuspecting group of people to come through and think they knew what they were doing.

  As soon as the slimy shit sank away, Murmur ran down toward Dev. She was sure he was alive. Sinister and Veranol had thrown HoTs on him, as had Masha. And his health had never completely gone into the red in her battle information, so she was quite certain he was okay.

  Still, though. Mur knelt down next to him as his body jolted into sitting with a harsh gasp of air.

  “Fuck it, Mur. I fucking hate that spell.” He glared at her, but she could see he was relieved at not having lost any of his experience. Instead, he was now level forty-nine. Several of Fable were. The last levels of experience moved too damn slowly, so while the others had caught up, they weren’t actually as close as it seemed.

  “I know you do. That’s why I was like, aw, hell, let’s annoy Devlish.” She winked at him and gave him a brief hug, glad that he’d survived. Waiting for him to respawn and make his way back in here would have been downright annoying.

  “So.” Masha stood next to her when she rose. “Don’t suppose you can tell us what the hell that was?”

  Storm Entertainment

  Somnia Online Division

  Game Development Offices - Conference Room 2

  Early Day Twenty-Six

  Shayla groaned as she took a seat in the conference room next to Laria, who looked like she hadn’t slept in a couple of years. “What are we doing here? It’s still dark out.”

  Laria shrugged. “I told you. Davenport called this. I haven’t the foggiest.”

  Shayla found it hard to complain too much over a meeting called by her boss. Although at five in the morning, she wasn’t impressed by his timing.

  He walked into the room, his entourage missing, looking like he’d been up all night. “I called you in here this early because I know there’s no way James can be here right now. Sorry for the short notice.”

  Davenport sat himself down in the chair at the head of the conference table. He looked haggard, his usually youthful face looking its age. His usually carefully styled hair was in disarray, and a frown line nestled in his brow like it had found a new home.

  “You need to be careful,” he began, his voice soft, full of regret. “I gave Michael too much leeway to deal with his headset project in the beginning. I didn’t realize it was going to turn out this way. In my mind we were developing a game and perhaps allowing for improvements to be made for the future of virtual reality technology, including treatments, learning, and training for dangerous occupations.”

  Shayla didn’t say a word, and she could see Laria’s expression softening as well. Though she still wanted to know why the hell they’d approached the military, she was beginning to see a pattern, to understand that there was more to this than she’d realized.

  “The initial forecasts I reviewed showed so much potential for this technology. Things we could use such headsets to learn, ways to understand how the human brain works, just why it misfires when it does. Helping people with PTSD, with dementia, with traumatic injuries, and all of that was just the beginning.”

  His eyes shone as if the memory was from long ago and not just a few years. Melancholy rolled off him, regrets Shayla would never thought he’d have had, being who he was. Both she and Laria waited, knowing there was more.

  “The military contract was, at least as far as I was shown, for developing ways of training combat in a safer environment to minimize danger and accidental shootings for trainees. It was to be extended to pilots, to rescuers, to firefighters, to anyone who works in the armed or emergency services. It seemed like such an excellent project.” He smiled, more to himself than to anyone else, like he had a fond memory he was trying to cling to.

  “I was a little naive. Which is saying something. I’ve been running this company for thirty years, and I’m known to be hard-headed and ruthless. But this…this was a chance to help people. Not just to make money, though we all know I love that. I didn’t monitor it well enough. I trusted too easily because it wasn’t my personal area of expertise, and I trusted the project to the wrong person.” Davenport rubbed at his eyes, like maybe he could wash away his fatigue.

  “Which brings me to now. Michael had other plans for his headset design. He wanted to be able to access people’s thoughts and memories. He wanted to be able to learn how to influence them, how to control them, and ultimately how to use his foray into the mind to his best advantage. Had I known then what I know now—but isn’t life just a huge mixing bowl of what ifs?

  “And now for my point, which I’m sure you’re eager to hear. The contract Michael signed us to was for five years of research. We are still within that period. So any actual testing you do to adjust the headsets as a whole have to be delivered to our sponsors. For another ten months. Technically.”

  Shayla caught onto his words and hoped he meant it the way she interpreted it. “So, everything we put into the headsets that will become a part of the hardware and software updates that go into the headsets developed for the public needs to be included in the reporting we send to them.”

  Davenport nodded slowly, his eyes bright, like he didn’t want to say anything out loud in case someone was listening in.

  Laria spoke slowly. “We do a lot of testing to specifically make the game more cohesive and immersive as a whole, focusing on the entire game population. So all of that research has to go to our sponsor, correct.”

  “Exactly.” Davenport smiled. “All research conducted yourselves, on company time, must be included. I’m glad we’ve managed to clear that up. Now that you’re aware of the situation, I hope this helps you give James the material he has been asking for. In the meantime, I have a few fail safes I exercise that I need to go over in the interests of fostering a good partnership and not burning bridges.”

  Shayla rose and shook his hand. “Of course, Mr. Davenport. We understand completely.”

  She watched him leave the room and motioned to Laria with a finger across her lips to keep silent until they got back to her office. Laria just rolled her eyes and walked out of the conference room, her head mostly low. She looked like she was going to fall over at any moment.

  Shayla closed the office door behind them and went to her desk, making sure her interference was active. “What did y
ou think of that?”

  “I thought it was bloody good. The kid’s headsets don’t need to be included in the info we send to them because it isn’t research we are doing ourselves on company time. It’s been done by the kids in the game, and by the AIs. It’s definitely a technicality, but it’s a legit one.” Laria flopped into her seat, and Shayla could almost feel her bone weariness.

  “You’re worried.”

  “Thank you, bleeding obvious, will that be all?” Laria pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sorry. I’m testy.”

  “You might want to try sleep. I’ve heard it’s quite healthy.” Shayla wasn’t offended; she knew Laria well enough.

  “No time. We have too much to do. Her readings worry me.” Laria added the latter softly, like she wasn’t sure she should tell Shayla.

  “I know. We’ll figure out just what’s happening.” But Shayla’s words sounded shallow, even to herself. “And it seems our boss might have a couple of aces hidden away.”

  The Anguaisch hadn’t left behind any loot, which Fable was used to but it wasn’t something the other guilds understood. It took a lot of effort for Fable to calm the other guilds down. The fact that Murmur refused to slow their roll through the dungeon didn’t seem to help matters.

  “Just tell them that the sooner we get to the end, the faster we get loot,” Sinister snapped at Masha, sick of the questions and people constantly clamoring around Murmur.

  Masha glared at his fellow healer, and Murmur was quite certain he was about to snap back, but the cleric was an unusually relaxed fellow and always had been. She could see the breath he visibly took before responding. “I’ll tell them. But this isn’t the standard way to raid. It would have been a better idea to let me know beforehand, so they came in prepared.”

  “Think of it this way,” Merlin interjected. “Less repair bills are always good. We have a way of doing things in this game that seem to work well for us. Hope that’s not going to be a problem.”