by Max Lagno
Grisha opened fire with all his guns. My Armor slowly lost durability. But when Grisha’s guns quietened, cooling down, my automatic repair bots kicked in and my Armor rose just as slowly.
Fortunado’s mechanodestructor reared onto its hind legs. The upper section transformed into a turret. Now its four front legs turned into guns: two machine guns and two cannons.
I had to finish them off, I decided. Since I’m their target, they’ll keep getting in my way. After death, their level would be so low that they wouldn’t be able to follow me to Rim Five.
The earth shook, tossing the broken turrets around like toys. A few meters from me, the soil rose into a mound.
“What’s that?”
In answer to my question, the top of the mound broke, revealing a huge eyeless creature. A worm’s face with a round mouth that could consume ten Leonarms. The mouth was full of thick rows of teeth the size of two-handed swords.
Most Ancient Evil, Bizoid.
Guild: Black Wave.
Class: Slug.
DNA Modification: Earthly Tremble.
Level: 327.
Health: 67,000/67,000.
I had no idea what bizoids were capable of, or how best to fight them. They hadn’t existed in my day. Time to follow Makarov’s advice and escape. I decided to get out of the mechanodestructors’ fire and activate my armored vehicle. I’d barely made it ten meters before the earth around me rose in a ringed hill. How big was this bizoid?
Pretty big, as it turned out. I was surrounded by its long body.
Then I leapt up, activating the jet pack built into the lower part of my UniSuit and flying over the bizoid. I’d almost gotten over him when a thick beam of light lanced down from the sky toward me.
That damned choral singing! Damned angels.
My jet pack cut out. Waving my arms and legs as if trying to fly like a bird, I spun head over heels in the air. The light beam pressed down from above. With a crash, I struck the ground, sliding several feet ahead.
Damage taken: -34,555, fall from height and strike from angel’s light beam.
Just like that, in a second, I’d lost half my Health.
Left arm injured. Gunner skill reduced by 50%.
Upgrade slot #4 destroyed. Urgent Repair skill lost.
Upgrade slot #6 destroyed. Sprint skill lost.
Upgrade slot #7 destroyed. Capacity of Stalker Dimensional Compression Backpack reduced by 70%.
A list of lost items stretched out after the message that my backpack was damaged. The first to go, of course, was the Tiger armored vehicle. Then I saw a message that I was bleeding, but it was quickly replaced by another:
Automatic healing in progress (upgrade slot #13).
I climbed out of my UniSuit-shaped hole and looked skyward. The only air target remaining was the angel. But it was still impossible to determine its location. The highlighted target square just hung in place, showing the angel’s possible presence.
I opened the Character tab.
Angelic Shepherd skill increased to level 3.
I see angels, mom!
Now you can see the location of all angels whose level is below yours.
A name appeared above the empty square in the sky:
Crusher, Angel.
Guild: Black Wave.
Level: 292.
All this happened in mere seconds. Bullets continued to rain down on me from the mechanodestructors. My UniSuit’s armor was now going down faster than it was recovering. The round face of the bizoid closed in on me from the left while the circle of his body tightened. The angel’s beam continued to press down on me, making it hard to move.
I switched from my rifle to a one-handed Uzi machine pistol and unloaded an entire clip into the bizoid’s round maw. Not the most fearsome weapon against the Most Ancient Evil. But it had an Electroshock upgrade. Each bullet hit the target with an extra electric shock, so the damage was high. A thick stream of numbers fell from the bizoid’s maw, along with blood and scraps of flesh.
The bizoid Most Ancient Evil turned and fled underground. For some time, I could track its movement using the damage notifications which continued to appear from the electricity.
That gave me time to concentrate on the angel. I had no time to read how Angelic Shepherd worked. I just activated it. To my left appeared the image of a man, holding the angel by the wings and shaking him from time to time.
Attempting to catch angel. Chance of success: 74%.
But a blinking red message covered up that hopeful sign.
Damage taken: -12,460.
I reeled.
The mechanodestructors were getting too close. I unloaded another magazine at Fortunado. It knocked out his cannons and machine guns. But the cannons weren’t even firing. Perhaps the artillery gear on both mechanodestructors had been damaged after Makarov’s suicide bombing.
The mechanodestructors retreated and took cover behind a mound left by the bizoid. All three would probably be healing up and repairing.
Link to angel established.
You have five minutes to play God.
Attention: not enough energy (need 4,500 more) to maintain connection. Time left: 25 seconds... 24...
Twenty-five seconds? But the skill promised five minutes!
I immediately took the magazine out of my Salinger rifle, took out the energy rounds and converted them into energy units. That gave me more than enough. I took control of the angel.
I was dragged out of Leonarm’s body and thrust upward.
Chapter 5. From the Sky to the Earth
THE ENTIRE WORLD of Rim Zero spread out at my feet. Space contorted strangely to display its entire area. That said, it wasn’t large: at the center was Town Zero, and around it were familiar old zones. Firefly Swamp, Mercurian Ruins, Mechanodestructor Heap...
One of the angel’s skills was the ability to see every player. All I had to do was focus on a zone for it to expand, rotating before me like a globe. It seemed that angels didn’t fly. It was as if they hovered in place, turning the world beneath them. It was a stunning sensation of omnipotence.
I could see the name Amy McDonald roaming through the Mechanodestructor Heap. I could not only see her stats (human, level four) but also her current quest: Find the First Mechanodestructor Core. The piercing gaze even penetrated her equipment: a novice tablet with a couple of upgrades and booklets. No medkits left. She’d swapped her Glock X5 for a Lefaucheux revolver, the best weapon of all the pistols available in the Rim Zero stores.
Several mechanical spiderbots hid behind a hill in the girl’s path on the heap. They were the weak but numerous denizens of the heap. The girl hadn’t seen them. Alas, Amy, you won’t complete this quest without a medkit.
I examined the stats of the character I’d taken over:
Crusher, Angel.
Guild: Black Wave.
Class: Patron.
Level: 292.
Strength: 100.
Perception: 42.
Agility: 30.
Knowledge: 97.
Spirit: 65.
Luck: 23.
Reputation: 45 (Friendly).
Angelic Aura: 31,544/65,000.
Mana: 9,560/97,000.
Instead of Health, angels had Spirit, whose level determined the amount of their Angelic Aura. Crusher’s was lower than its initial value due to his getting involved in a battle as a soldier.
The mana value for angels was calculated the same as for magic characters: Knowledge multiplied by the player level, plus skills increasing mana. Crusher’s low mana level was because he’d spent it on creating a Blessing, a special buff that he gave to his guildmates. However, his mana was slowly rising.
I cast my gaze to the battlefield. My Leonarm was frozen in a strange pose: on his knees, hands clasped and raised to the sky as if in prayer. So that was how controlling angels worked?
The mechanodestructors and the bizoid still hid behind the cover of their mound. Their health and armor were continually increasing. A
little longer and they’d begin their attack. I had to hurry while I had them in the palm of my hand. Or rather, an angelic hand.
Alright. Time to get back to earthly affairs.
I skimmed through the angel’s skills. Most of them, naturally, were meaningless in the current situation.
Angelic Patience, level 10.
The more you give, the more you receive.
You bestow Blessing upon all players on the ground:
+10 Stamina.
+10 Strength.
+10 Health.
In exchange, you receive an increase in Reputation.
Or:
Divine Messenger.
In a difficult situation, a player can summon the angel using a Prayer (prayers are obtained in Temples).
Attention: there is a fine for failing to answer a prayer:
Angelic Aura: -10,000.
Reputation: -20.
That was the downside of angels: if you use your skills to harm another player, regardless of race, your Angelic Aura dropped. It dropped quickly and irrevocably. Nothing could restore the Angelic Aura bar. It was permanently reduced.
Since they had no Health, angels were immortal... How could they be destroyed?
Oh, right: once the Angelic Aura dropped to zero, the angel becomes a fallen angel. He fell from the sky to the earth, taking on physical form, transforming into a simple human with wings. Then he could be killed.
Hmm, this angel was an interesting character... But it wasn’t suitable for everything. Sex, alcohol and drugs made the Angelic Aura drop like a stone. Even bad language damaged the aura with every word. Having taken over the angel, I could drop its Angelic Aura to zero merely with a long stream of swearwords.
Angels fulfilled the role of scouts on the battlefield, and something like bards, supporting their allies with buffs. They were omniscient, capable of perceiving other players’ equipment, but were limited from directly interfering in earthly affairs.
Alright. What could I send down on my enemies? The beam of light that forced me to the ground turned out to be called Stairway to Heaven. It was actually intended for quickly moving a praying player from one zone to another. But it could also be used as a weak weapon.
The angel had few weapons: an angelic sword, a bow, something called Krishna’s Pistol, which didn’t kill, but fired a powerful blessing pulse, the Trumpet of Jericho, and Solar Pillar.
The timer counted down. Enough studying. Time to use this conquered angel for its purpose. I didn’t know whether my Angelic Shepherd skill would block the player completely, or if he could still talk to his guildmates. Even if it did block him, they’d quickly figure out that something had happened to their comrade if he stopped responding.
The symbol of the Solar Pillar spell had been hanging in front of the angel for a while. That meant that Crusher had been planning to use it against me.
I span the battlefield beneath me, focusing on the bizoid, Most Ancient Evil. I had no idea what the new race was capable of, so I feared the worm most of all.
* * *
I don’t know how it all looked from below, but from above the sight was magnificent. Clouds gathered around me. The airflows formed something like a pattern with bright yellow rays lancing through it. At the center where I was, the blue sky disappeared and the vastness of space opened up. A vague flow of energy fell down onto the bizoid, filled with flashes of light reminiscent of human bodies.
The bizoid stopped crawling under the ground. The strength of the spell forced him to the surface, held him in the air for a moment. I looked at the gigantic worm’s body. It was as big as a train. Tentacles, legs and pincers grew across its entire body. The entire mass writhed, covered in mud and a yellowish slime, which probably helped it slither its way through the earth. I didn’t know which advantages the bizoid species had, but beauty certainly wasn’t one of them.
A white spot grew at the center of its ringed body, quickly absorbing its flesh. The damage increased as the spot grew. I checked: all the damage was attributed to me, meaning Leonarm, not Crusher, the angel’s owner.
Attention: you have attacked a creation of God.
Angelic Aura reduced to 21,544.
Attention: you have deliberately and treacherously attacked a member of your own guild.
Angelic Aura reduced to 16,544.
Reputation reduced to -32, disgust.
Good NPCs will try to avoid conversing with you, will ignore you, and if you are persistent, they will call the police. High chance of refusal of service.
The effect of the Solar Pillar ended. The sky cleared. The bizoid transformed into a salted mummy and fell to the earth, covering the mounds with a white layer of salt.
Attention: you have taken a life that was not yours. God perceives that you are unworthy of the role of divine messenger.
Angelic Aura reduced to 6,544.
Reputation reduced to -44, strong disgust.
Only bandit NPCs will talk to you, or police during an arrest. Most legal merchants will refuse you service. No access to services of Projectoria and Respec-T stations. You will be automatically blacklisted.
My time was coming to an end. I had forty seconds until I was sent back.
“***** ****!” I cried in my trumpeting voice. “F…*** a…***!”
Angelic Aura reduced to 2,147.
Twenty-five seconds. Did I have time? I couldn’t remember enough swearwords. Then it hit me:
“There is no God!”
Attention: you have crossed over to the path of evil. The heavens have never seen such an unworthy angel. Descend to where you belong.
Angelic Aura reduced to -7,853.
Special skill gained: Apostate.
I didn’t bother reading what the skill did. I leapt from the falling angel and returned toward Leonarm’s body in a dizzying fall. I cleared the warning messages from my view: while I was soaring through the skies, Leonarm had taken a dozen new hits, and his Health bar was dangerously low.
There was a flash in the sky. The outline of a man appeared. He started to fall, folding his scorched wings behind him.
I aimed down the sight of my Uzi and fired.
Leonarm (Human) killed Crusher (Fallen Angel) using: Uzi Machine Pistol.
* * *
While in the angel’s form, I’d memorized the location of the brothers behind the mound. I chose the most powerful grenades I still had left after my compression backpack broke, then asked my personal assistant to calculate the best angle to throw them.
Wait a bit, it replied.
After a few seconds, an overlay appeared in front of me. The height of the mound, wind speed, distance to the target and strength of throw. A crosshair appeared at the center of the overlay. By moving my head, I aimed the crosshair over the second one on the overlay. Swinging my arm, I threw the grenades one after another.
All four exploded on the other side of the mound. Numerous damage notifications flashed in the cloud of dust and salt left by the bizoid. During the battle, my experience bar had gone up by several hundred points at least. Various achievements popped up in the notification windows I’d moved to the edge of my vision.
Before the twin brothers had a chance to recover, I started limping toward them. I reloaded my Uzi on the way. But a new notification made me stop:
Fortunado (Mechanodestructor) killed Grisha (Mechanodestructor) bare-handed.
I switched to an open channel.
“Have you gone mad? Why the fratricide? Couldn’t wait for me to finish you both off? Think a little pre-death leveling will help you?”
You’re way off the truth.
“But I’m very close to you,” with those words, I climbed the mound and saw the two mechanodestructors. They lay awkwardly, covered in earth and salt, legs akimbo. And didn’t move. The fragment of leg that I’d shot off still moldered with a blue flame. Neither of the mechanodestructors moved as I approached.
Fortunado continued talking. “We know that strong players leveled you up. But
you’re not bad either. You almost finished us off alone. Although it’s all because of the hack. Players at our level aren’t meant to be here, so nothing works like it should.”
“Now I’ll deal with you once and for all...” Then I lowered my weapon.
Hexagonal holes yawned in the bodies of both mechanodestructors. Both Grisha and Fortunado were already gone from the battlefield.
The lower level mechanodestructor was a small, hexagonal robot about the size of a nightstand. It moved on a wide monowheel. Instead of eyes, it had one black-and-white camera. At the sides of the nightstand were hands with clumsy claws that couldn’t even pick up a bottle without breaking it. All its equipment is kept in a body that opens to the front, like an ordinary oven. Or like a nightstand.
That little robot is called the ‘Mechanodestructor Core’ and serves as a base for further upgrades. The core is set inside a structure made specially for it. It transforms from a nightstand into a gigantic six-legged robot spider, a human-like transformer, a giant armored self-propelled gun, a flying machine... The mechanodestructor is the apparatus overlaid on the core. Without the core, it’s just a heap of scrap metal. By the same token, without the apparatus, the core is nothing but a harmless nightstand on a monowheel. A nightstand capable only of nipping at the enemy with its pincers.
From what I remembered, characters of the mechanodestructor race were the most expensive to maintain. They need a garage to keep an entire zooload of add-ons: for swimming, flying, walking and so on.
I examined the smoking mounds as if trying to glimpse a nightstand joyously rolling away from me on a monowheel.