Jason rested a hand on the attorney’s arm, lowering his voice, “Francis, I really need to tell you something…”
“Mr. Rhodes and Mr. Rosencrantz,” a feminine voice interrupted. Jason turned to see a receptionist standing at the door to the interior offices. “Ms. Bastion is ready to see you now.”
Francis glanced back at Jason, his eyes now clouded with a mixture of worry and anger and his shoulders tense. “Not here. It will need to wait. We need to see what they have up their sleeve. Forget what I said earlier – just stay as quiet as possible. Do not say anything unless I give you the go ahead. Understood?”
Jason wanted to argue, but he could see the receptionist watching them carefully. She was likely listening attentively to their conversation. His gaze darted around the room – who knew what sort of recording devices they might also have in this waiting room. Perhaps Francis was right. This probably wasn’t a good place for the sort of conversation that they needed to have.
“Got it,” Jason said, nodding curtly as the attorney watched him expectantly.
He tried to muster as much courage as he could as the pair stepped through the doorway leading into the organization’s interior offices. He couldn’t help but yearn for the frigid cold of his dark mana – the way the energy seemed to strip away his hesitation and anxiety. Yet the stark reality of his situation continued to stare him in the face as they walked down the austere halls of the CPSC office. There was no escape from this – no easy log out button.
The receptionist led them to a large conference room, glass paneling lining the walls. The murky material was semi-transparent, and Jason could just barely make out several dark silhouettes sitting inside – their faces indistinct and fuzzy. It was clear that they weren’t just meeting with Gloria, which meant that they might have another surprise coming.
Francis seemed to have the same thought, sparing a look at Jason. He rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder when the receptionist moved to open the door. “It will be okay,” the attorney whispered in his ear. “Just let me do the talking.”
A moment later, the pair stepped inside. For the second time in such a short period of time, Jason was caught completely flat-footed, staring at the people sitting in the room as his heart thudded in his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was so loud that he couldn’t help but think that the other people in the room could hear it.
Gloria sat at the head of the rectangular conference table, flanked on either side by none other than his parents. It felt like ages since he had seen them, but they looked just as he remembered. They both wore pristine dark gray suits, his father managing to pull off a tie without looking uncomfortable and his mother’s hair cropped much shorter than he remembered.
“What…?” Jason began to say, reeling in shock.
“Jason!” his mother cried as she caught sight of him, rising from her seat and rushing forward. Within seconds he was wrapped in his mother’s tight grip. “We were so worried. I’m sorry it took us so long to get back.”
Jason’s father had also risen from his seat, approaching him in a more reserved fashion and resting a hand on his shoulder – his mother refusing to relinquish her hold on Jason. “That damn judge just wouldn’t let us leave, even with a family emergency,” his father explained. “Hell, we even asked for a meeting in his chambers to explain what had happened. Not that the crotchety old bastard seemed to care.” An angry frown was plastered on his father’s face.
His mother finally pulled back, inspecting Jason’s face closely. “Are you okay? You look thin and tired. Have you been sleeping?” She pelted him with questions too quickly for his flailing mind to handle. When he didn’t respond immediately, his mother rounded on Francis. “Have you been taking care of him? Where is George?”
“Samantha, I’m sure we can address all of your questions in good time,” Gloria said. The older woman was watching the scene with a penetrating gaze – not having bothered to rise from her seat. “Why don’t you give the boy a chance to sit down. I’m sure this was a bit of a shock,” she added, sparing a small smirk at Francis behind his parents’ backs.
Jason could see Francis bite back a response at this comment, his eyes darting to Jason’s mother and father. The attorney was likely thinking that he would need to walk on eggshells during this conversation. It wasn’t clear why Jason’s parents were here or why Mr. Sully had just left. However, the implications were not good.
“Please, take a seat,” Gloria repeated gesturing to some open chairs at the conference table. Jason reluctantly sat down, Francis taking a seat opposite him and their eyes meeting briefly.
Silence hovered over the room for a moment, Jason’s parents watching him expectantly as though waiting for him to speak up. He just had no idea where to start. He wasn’t even sure why they were all there and Francis’ advice to stay quiet still echoed in his mind. Through it all, a hollow pit had settled in his stomach, and he could feel bile rising in the back of his throat.
The only thing he could think was that this was bad. Really bad.
Gloria leaned forward, steepling her hands in front of her and a shark-like smile on her face as she met Jason’s gaze. He knew that expression. He had seen it many times in-game. This woman was an enemy and Jason had just been outplayed.
“Now then, where should we start?” Gloria asked calmly. “I expect we have quite a bit to discuss.”
The End
Thank you for reading!
I hope you enjoyed the story! I expect that I’ll finish Awaken Online: Apathy next – which follows Eliza’s “origin story.” I’ve been having a blast writing her storyline. Who doesn’t love black sheep? If you want to check out the work-in-progress, I’ve included a few chapters from her book after this back-matter stuff (just keep flipping the page). There may be some small proofing mistakes since this isn’t finished yet!
I also have another story planned following the fire affinity avatar – which I might try to tackle before completing AO4. I have kind of an awesome idea (or at least I think so!). Writing these side stories also really helps me flesh out the world and characters. Hopefully, this won’t take up too much time!
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Acknowledgements
I’d also like to give a shout-out to everyone who helped me write Awaken Online: Evolution. Like most great things, it takes a village to write a book. Or at least one that makes sense and is (relatively) error-free. Thank you all for your help and support!
Ashley Anderson (Editor)
Krista Ruggles (Artist)
David Stifel (Narrator)
Stephanie Fisher
Cynthia Bagwell
Phillip Bagwell
Jay Taylor
Josh Acker
Luke Chmilenko
Kyle Smith
Christopher Brink
Jonathan Decker
Michael Vincent
Robert Wierzbicki
Duncan Vandecarr
Evan Moore
All of my Patrons. You guys are awesome!
Awaken Online
Side Quest: Apathy
______________
Travis Bagwell
Copyright © 2018 by Travis Bagwell
All rights reserv
ed.
Chapter 1 - Pressured
October 8, 2076: 4 days after the release of Awaken Online.
The sizzle and pop of the of hamburger meat cooking on the stove was the only sound that could be heard in the kitchen. Eliza stirred the mixture distractedly and then turned back to the small bowl in front of her that she was using to mix various herbs and spices.
1 Tablespoon of chili powder, ¼ teaspoon of garlic powder, ¼ teaspoon onion powder… Eliza mentally cataloged and checked off the list of ingredients that went into the seasoning, her hands automatically measuring and pouring the powders with military precision.
Once the mixture was complete, she stirred it gently and then added it to the pan. She enjoyed this process. It was well-practiced and comforting. She felt like she was building something. Besides, chemistry had always been one of her favorite subjects.
That thought made her wince, and Eliza glanced at the kitchen table nearby where an imposing stack of books stood in a haphazard column. She knew that cooking dinner was just a distraction. She should be studying. Always studying.
She shook her head slightly to clear it. Her parents weren’t home yet, and cooking served multiple purposes – both to distract herself and to ward off the inevitable questions for at least a few minutes. She pushed her glasses back where they rested on the bridge of her nose and spared a glance at the clock over the stove. She only had a few minutes until her parents would arrive home for the evening. She hadn’t even made the guacamole yet.
Eliza lowered the temperature on the electric stove and removed a set of shears from a drawer beside her. She then made her way around the kitchen island and opened a door leading off the kitchen and into the backyard.
Weak rays of waning sunlight just barely crested the wooden fence that ringed the yard. She walked around the house to the small garden in the side yard. She chose her steps carefully, her bare feet landing on a series of paving stones set between the neat rows of growing vegetables. Her eyes scanned her garden carefully as she walked, noting the state of each plant.
As she plucked a tomato, she noticed that the caterpillars had been hungry – leaving miniature bite marks in the leaves. She would need to use some pesticide before long. She spent the next few minutes collecting various ingredients, quickly realizing she had forgotten to bring something to carry her produce back into the house. With a resigned sigh, she used the bottom of her t-shirt as a makeshift bag.
When Eliza re-entered the house, the smell of spices immediately assaulted her nose. She reveled in the sensation as she unloaded her stash on the counter and began washing the vegetables and herbs. Her momentary euphoria was interrupted a moment later when she heard a door close on the opposite end of the house. Her parents’ voices could be heard drifting down the hallway as they bickered and discussed their day.
As they entered the kitchen, Eliza’s father breathed in deeply. “It smells amazing in here. Let me guess, tacos?”
“Yes,” Eliza replied with a smile of her own. She just wanted to keep them talking about food. “Some of my herbs needed to be groomed back. They were starting to overgrow their planters.”
Eliza’s mother set her bag down on the table and inspected her daughter critically, her gaze lingering on Eliza’s dirt-covered shirt. “I really wish you wouldn’t ruin your clothes carrying in vegetables from your garden.”
Eliza turned her gaze back to the stove, her eyes downcast. “I’m sorry. I forgot to take a basket out with me. Dinner is almost ready, though.”
Her mother sighed. “Thank goodness. I’m starving.” She sat down at the kitchen island and watched Eliza as she finished with her preparations. “I didn’t have time to eat lunch,” her mother continued in a tired voice. “Apparently, there is a new flu epidemic going around. The pediatric wing was full of wailing children and impatient mothers.”
Eliza’s father walked back into the kitchen, having deposited his personal belongings in his office. “It was a rather frantic day on my end too. We had a gunshot victim come in today.”
Her mother grimaced and rubbed at her eyes. “Well, maybe I should be thankful then.”
Eliza half-listened to their conversation as she finished cooking. It was the same story, just a different day. Her mother and father were both doctors and worked at the local hospital. Her father was an anesthesiologist, and her mother worked in pediatrics. It was typical for them to come home tired and grousing – usually with a terrible story to go along with it.
“And here you go,” Eliza said, setting down two plates on the island in front of them.
“Why don’t we eat at the table,” her father suggested. Eliza flinched as she saw him glance over at the books that were piled on the kitchen table. “Or, maybe not…” he added with a chuckle.
Then the dreaded question came. “So how are your studies coming along?” her mother asked. It was always the same question. Every day for the last… well, she had actually lost track.
“It’s going okay,” Eliza said noncommittally, standing on the other side of the counter and picking at the tacos on her plate.
“Did your practice test results come in yet?” her mother pressed, dabbing at her lips with a napkin. “It’s been over a week since the last one.”
“They did,” Eliza said, her eyes downcast. “I scored in the 90th percentile on the college admissions exams and I scored a 486 on the MCAT practice test.”
Her father frowned slightly. “90th percentile? What was the score on the admissions exam?”
Eliza hesitated slightly before responding, “2036 between the various categories.”
“That’s ten points lower than your previous exam, isn’t it?” her mother asked sharply.
“Yes,” Eliza replied in a subdued voice. “I think I was tired on the last exam day.”
Her father jumped in, trying to lighten the tone, “Well, you scored two points higher on the MCAT. At least you’re making progress!”
Eliza glanced at her mother and saw her nodding grudgingly. “Yes, yes. You are coming along. Another six or seven months and you will ready to take the real admissions exam. While your MCAT is still a little low, I’m sure it will pick up once you start taking college classes.”
“Clairmont has a fantastic physics program, and I know you struggle with that a bit,” her father added. “I’m sure with some additional prep you will be in the top 10% in no time.”
Fighting down the urge to sigh, Eliza’s attention returned to her dinner. She was set to graduate from her high school this year, and her whole future already seemed set in stone. She would attend a prestigious four-year university, followed by an equally prestigious medical school. Then she could begin her residency. Again, only a top-of-the-line hospital would do. And maybe ten years later she would be a practicing doctor. Just like her parents.
Eliza had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. Yet one thing was abundantly clear. She had absolutely no desire to become a doctor.
With her eyes leveled on the counter, Eliza didn’t notice her father watching her, a look of concern in his eyes. “Are you alright?” he asked finally. Eliza glanced up at him in surprise. “It just feels like lately you have been a little… off. You don’t really talk about your garden or your schoolwork unless we pester you.”
“We know that we’ve been pushing you hard, but it’s only because we care about you,” her mother added. Then she hesitated and looked at her husband. “On the other hand, we both understand what it means to feel a little burnt out.”
“You wouldn’t believe the number of all-nighters we had to pull to make it through med school,” her father added with a rumbling chuckle.
“I…” Eliza hesitated. She wanted to be honest with them and tell them she had no interest in med school and that she hated the constant prep courses, but she knew what they would say. She needed to think about her future and her career. She could visualize the look of disappointment in their eyes. Then they would ask what she wanted to do instead.
She didn’t have an answer for that one.
“I’m fine,” Eliza finally squeaked out, taking another bite to avoid elaborating.
A frown creased her father’s lips. “Hmm. Well, in any event, we wanted to reward you for working so hard.” He stood and stepped into the other room for a moment before returning with a box covered in wrapping paper.
“We’ve heard that this is all the rage with kids your age,” her mother added. “It really isn’t my sort of thing, but your father convinced me you might enjoy it.”
Eliza looked on with curiosity. First, her parents were showing interest in her personal life – which was unusual for them. Now they were buying her presents? For a brief moment, she considered whether aliens might have abducted them and replaced them with more kind-hearted doppelgangers.
“Go on, open it,” her father urged. Grudgingly, Eliza’s fingers peeled away the wrapping paper that covered the box. The logo on the side of the container swiftly appeared, the words “Cerillion Entertainment” emblazoned across the surface. A picture of a black obelisk and a full-faced plastic helmet was showcased on the box.
Eliza wasn’t exactly a social butterfly – not that she particularly wanted to hang out with the uptight and high-strung kids from her prep courses. However, she knew this was a set of virtual reality equipment. She had heard a number of kids at school talking about the new game Cerillion Entertainment that had released recently, and many of her classmates had been begging their parents to buy it for them.
“We also bought you a copy of this new game that’s causing such a stir,” her mother said, chewing distastefully on the word “game” for a moment. “I believe it’s called Awaken Online.”
Awaken Online (Book 3): Evolution Page 63