by Phil Tucker
The three champions still in the street all oriented on me like Terminators, but I didn’t care. There was no time for anything but to scramble up onto the next roof and then race down its sloping side to leap over to the next building. The roofs were partially caved in, wrecked by fire and rot, but Ledge Runner didn’t give a fig for all that. I ran as surefooted as a goat, chasing after the distant champion.
One mana point left. No way I could fight that thing. The best I could do was distract it and tear Lotharia free from its grasp. And then? I had no idea. One step at a time.
I could feel Ledge Runner running out. No, no, no. Just a little bit more! I put on a final burst of speed, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in my side, the way my breath was rasping in my raw throat, and then as I drew abreast with the oblivious champion, I leapt.
I activated Uncanny Aim in midair, targeted the champion’s foot, and then double whammied it with Pin Down. I hurled my dagger as I fell, and felt Ledge Runner give out as I hit the ground.
It was enough. It corrected my balance and caught me sufficiently so that I could fall into a graceless tumble, all elbows and knees, and come up on all fours.
The champion was staring down at its impaled foot, nonplussed, and when it turned to regard me I flung a ball of Light right into its eyes.
Lotharia tore her hand free and ripped the spider staff out from under her cloak. The skeletal champion flailed at its head, raking its claws over its eyes. Lotharia bounced, swung in its two hands, but managed to shove the end of her staff under its jaw. A moment later the top of its head burst out in a conflagration of black fire and shards of bone, and she fell to the ground.
“Took your time,” she said, grinning as she climbed to her feet.
“Took my— screw you!”
Her grin turned into exhilarated laughter.
“We’ve got to run. Five champions are heading this way!”
“You got a plan?”
I didn’t. Then, just like that, I did. “Yeah. Hide over there – in that doorway. I’ll wait at the corner there. Let them see me, chase me. I’ve got one mana left. I’ll Double Step away— Here they come! Go, hide!”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but instead yanked me toward her and planted a kiss square on my lips. Before I could react, she dove into the doorway and was gone, and then the champions came pounding around the corner and right at me.
That kiss had addled my mind, but luckily thinking wasn’t necessary right now. On pure reflex, I took off at a run. I tore around the corner, trying to place myself in Feldgrau, using the bird’s-eye image I’d captured from Castle Winter. Some three blocks in. I’d taken a right turn, meaning I was running away from the castle. Another right would take me toward Falkon.
A glance over my shoulder showed me the champions were gaining on me. They ran with a robotic efficiency that made it look like they’d be able to run forever. I gritted my teeth and tried to put on more speed, but I was still winded from my race across the rooftops. Reluctantly, knowing the cooldown could kill me, I activated Adrenaline Surge.
I whooped with exhilaration as I took off, my feet almost leaving the ground. Fire flooded my legs, my lungs opened up, my arms pistoned as I surged ahead, fast, faster, fastest. I was the love child of a cheetah and a gazelle, an impossible blur that they’d never catch up with!
I looked over my shoulder. They had fallen behind – only to duck their chins, eyes ablaze, and start running even faster.
Damn it! The undead couldn’t have Adrenaline Surge too, could they? They didn’t have fucking adrenal glands!
I turned right and ran straight into a pack of regular skeletons. Sheer momentum carried me through them, pinballing from one warrior to another, their blows coming too late, the last swinging its sword right at my neck. I ducked and was under it, then gone, out into the open street.
There was a shattering of bones from behind me. My eyes opened wide. I didn’t need to look back. The champions had torn right through the squad.
Think, think, think! Was I close enough to the edge of town? One more block, just one more block – then some sixth sense kicked in. I sensed the blow coming at my back, and burned that last mana point for all I was worth even as I dove aside into the shadowed side of the closest building.
I Double Stepped into the darkness, diving headfirst as if into a swimming pool of endless night only to explode right back out onto a rooftop in the shadowed lee of a taller building. With a scream of panicked surprise I slid stomach first down the tiles, feeling rough edges try to catch at my midnight spider silk shirt, bruising but not cutting me. There was one last jump left in my Double Step. With no time to waste, I turned my dive into a sideways roll, arms tucked against my chest, and fell right off the edge of the roof and into the alley below.
I never hit the ground. I sank into the darkness, let it take me and spit me back out as close to Feldgrau’s edge as I could push it. I emerged inside a shack of some sort, the corpse of a pig lying on its side beside me, ribs arching out of leathery skin. I bit down a shout, clamping both hands over my mouth, and struggled to my feet. Where the hell was I?
Fire still dancing through my veins, I looked out the window and nearly crowed with delight. I was in the pig-sty I’d first run to, way back at the beginning of this mess. I didn’t hesitate. I blew right out the door, out into the open, trying to outrun my imminent collapse, across the grass, leaving Feldgrau behind me as I tore toward the forest. A moment later, Adrenaline Surge came to its awful end, and I crashed headfirst into the bushes, down onto all fours, my stomach trying to invert itself and claw its way up out of my throat. I barely even registered the chime of my XP notifier.
Blind, trying not to pass out, I crawled forward until a hand clamped onto my shoulder. I tried to scream and managed only to gag instead. I rolled onto my back, and made out Falkon above me, blade in one hand, length of rope in the other. He held his finger to his lips.
“Lotharia?” I managed to gasp.
She emerged from the shadows beside Falkon, the last of her ice armor melting away, dark veins of black and purple etched across her cheeks, eyes bloodshot, spider staff in hand.
“We did it,” said Falkon, giving the rope a tug. A faint moan sounded from further off in the trees. “I don’t know how, but we did it. Now. Time to get back up to the castle before they come hunting for us. We’re about ready to execute our plan.”
17
We didn’t want to come anywhere close to the main trail as we returned to Castle Winter, so instead we looped widely through the forest while dragging the plague corpse behind us – a task which was made easier by its constant and futile attempt to catch up and attack us. Luckily it was slow as molasses, so we simply had to guide it by walking just out of reach.
The forest, however, was far from friendly; Falkon with his Survival: Basic (III) told us numerous times to squat behind bushes or get out of sight, which proved a challenging experience with the plague corpse coming up behind us. Luckily, we managed to evade both notice from the forest denizens and being hugged by the corpse, but still – the journey to the castle made for a harrowing couple of hours.
Sweet relief flooded through me when we finally staggered across the siege bridge and onto the narrow bank beneath the walls. Barfo’s largest pot was bubbling a score of yards along the wall, and even from here its stench made my eyes water.
I was concerned about Lotharia, who had remained mostly quiet on our hike up, but I was equally concerned about the plague corpse – we couldn’t just bring it into the bailey.
“Hold up,” said Falkon, turning to face the tottering zombie. “Let’s see if this works.” He quickly tied his end of the rope to a massive rock, then hefted a second stone about the size of a melon.
“What are you doing?” I asked, watching as the zombie stumbled toward us, arms pinned by its side by the lasso.
“
This.” Falkon hurled the rock with unerring accuracy right at the zombie’s chest. The blow hit with a dull thud and the zombie staggered back, one foot going over the edge of the ravine, and then it plummeted out of sight altogether.
“Wait— what?!” I ran to the edge of the ravine only to see the zombie hanging below, twisting and moaning as he kicked at the cliff face. “Oh. Right. Yeah. I was about to suggest doing exactly that.”
“Sure you were,” said Falkon. “We’ll leave him hanging till it’s time to deploy him in the stables.”
“Sounds good. Lotharia? You doing OK?”
She was leaning against the castle wall, arms crossed, head bowed so that her hair hung before her face. I could just make out the faint tracery of purple veins across her cheeks from where I stood.
“Yeah, fine.” Curt words, leaving no room for follow-up. “I could use a rest. Come on.” She pushed off the wall and stepped into the goblins’ chamber. Falkon and I shared a look, then followed.
Kreekit and her goblins came dancing up, demanding we tell them what had happened, but I deflected them onto Falkon and hurried after Lotharia, who had moved to sit against the far side of the chamber.
“Hey,” I said, crouching before her. She looked up, eyes hard, expression cold. “You’re clearly not OK. Talk to me, yeah? Can I help?”
She clenched her jaw as if biting back a response, then sighed. “I used the spider staff a lot to get out. Each time I felt it warp my essence a bit more. I’m— I’m heavily polluted right now by necrotic energy. But it’s not just that.” She curled a lock of hair behind her ear, revealing the network of dark capillaries across her face. “It’s changing my essence. Who I am. It feels… I’d never considered how invasive Euphoria is. How it’s directly connecting to our brains. How it’s feeding us all the sensory information we need to perceive this world, but also how it can affect what we feel. What we think.”
“It’s messing with your mind?”
“This necrotic energy is making me more impatient. More irritable. It’s an effort to even talk to you like this. I really, really, really want to tell you to go away. But I know that’s not me. That’s the effect of the staff.” She took a deep breath and then blew out her cheeks. “So. I’m going to have to meditate to clear my system out. To get back to myself.”
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and she gave me a brave smile. “I’ve got to admit, it’s scary thinking about how this is messing with my head.”
I reached out and took her hand. “Take all the time you need. And we should drop the staff part of the ogre plan. No more touching that thing.”
“We’ll see.” She gave my hand a squeeze, then pulled away. “I just need some time. That’s all.”
“Sure. Yeah.” I thought of that mad kiss she’d given me, and wanted to give her a hug back, or say something inspiring, but nothing came to mind except trite words that would only irritate her further. “Let me know if you need anything, all right?”
She nodded, and I pushed myself back up to my feet and walked away. Avoiding the knot of excited goblins, I stepped back to the crack in the wall and gazed out over the ravine to the forest below. I mean, I knew Euphoria had an incredible effect on our minds – the damn game could kill me if events in here justified it doing so. But to warp our very thoughts? How we felt about things? That caused me to shudder. What’s to say it wasn’t changing us subtly all the time? What was Albertus’ goal here? To learn from us, sure, but might it decide to implement changes at some point to ‘improve’ us?
Conspiracy theories were all too plausible. Right now, few people could afford the three-thousand-dollar playing fee. Only the truly wealthy, the insanely dedicated, or terminally ill made it in. Nothing like swapping three days for six months when you had but weeks left to live. I’d heard rumors about new centers being set up around the world. Places that could handle much higher player numbers, and the speculation that would cause a drop in price. Not only that, but there’d been that news article three weeks ago about a drive to develop home pods.
Was Albertus looking to make Euphoria widely available? And if so, would that give him access to our deepest thoughts, allow him to modify who we were en masse? It made a certain twisted sense: we’d created him to solve our problems, problems we’d proven unable to handle. Might not one of his solutions be to change us, the very cause of those problems?
I hugged myself and repressed a shiver. What was he learning from me? Was he actively observing me right now? What had Falkon said? That Death March players were of special interest to him? Did that mean I had a duty to represent the best of humanity?
Thoroughly unnerved, I stared out over the pristine landscape, and really wondered for the first time whether Euphoria had ever been meant as a game at all.
In an attempt to distract myself, I opened my character sheet. I’d gained some XP in Feldgrau, hadn’t I?
You have gained 55 experience (35 for evading the Dread Lord’s ambush, 20 for rescuing Lotharia). You have 57 unused XP. Your total XP is 402.
Congratulations! You are Level 5!
Huh. Normally, I’d be over the moon, but right now I was too shaken up by what had happened to Lotharia and my own thoughts on Euphoria to get too excited. Instead, I felt a grim determination to excel, to beat this game, to defeat the ogres and ensure the safety of my friends. I’d take the XP and the benefits, but for purely utilitarian reasons.
Your attributes have increased!
Dexterity +1
Strength +1
Constitution +1
Mana +1
You have learned new skills. Stealth: Basic (III), Athletics: Basic (I)
Well, that was a welcome set of upgrades. Finally, a con bump without it being conditional on a good night’s rest. I’d sure run around enough to earn it. Out of curiosity, I looked down at my arms. Was there a little more muscle tone there? I clenched my fists. A faint tracery of a vein ran down my forearm, and further up, some definition of my bicep and triceps. Strength eleven wasn’t anything to get really excited about, but I now felt less like a puny weakling and more like an average, healthy guy. I could live with that.
And heck yes. More stealth, please! Along with some basic Athletics. All of which were key in what was proving to be my evolving playing style: hit and run, and then keep running. Darkblade to the max, I guess.
Curious, I swiped to the next notification window.
Five talent advancements available to you:
These had remained the same: Distracting Attack, Darkvision, Wall Climber (I), Expert Leaper, and Bleeding Attack. I could only afford Expert Leaper with my fifty-seven XP, but I decided to hold off for now.
Next window.
There are new spells available to you:
Here we go. Night Shroud and Ebon Tendrils (I) I already knew, but the latest addition made my heart skip a beat:
Shared Darkness: your affinity with the shadows can now be extended to a companion, allowing you to bring along a medium or smaller sized humanoid with you when you Shadow Step.
- Mana Drain: 3
- Cost: 100 XP
Now that would prove incredibly useful. If I’d had that down in Feldgrau, I’d have been able to snag Lotharia right out from the skeletal champion’s arms and escape them with the greatest of ease. Well, maybe not ‘ease’, per se, but you get the picture. one hundred XP, though. Expensive. Right up there with Darkvision.
I tapped my lips. We’d be fighting the ogres inside the bailey real soon. Expert Leaper would no doubt come in super useful. But if I survived that fight, I’d probably earn a ton of XP and be able to buy anything on my list.
I looked over to where Lotharia sat, arms crossed over her knees, forehead resting on her wrists. No. I’d wait for Shared Darkness. Let Albertus learn a little about human compassion and friendship.
I swiped my sheet closed. My new options
and long-term plans had ameliorated my previously dour mood. I turned to see Falkon extricating himself from the Green Liver goblins, hands held up as if in surrender as they threatened him with wooden spoons.
“Fine, fine! I’ll taste it. Just give me a moment, will you?” He backed out of the group and walked up to me, shaking his head. “Guggee Maggot burgers? I don’t care what he seasons it with. And yes, I know people eat grubs in the real world. I saw that documentary on Australian bush cuisine being taken global to deal with the famine issues or whatever. But let me ask you this: were those Australian grubs prepared by goblins? I think not.”
“Too late now,” I said. “Sounds like you already agreed to try one.”
“Yeah.” Falkon rubbed the back of his head ruefully. “It was that or deploy Avalanche Roar and run like crazy.” He paused, eyeing me up and down. “You hanging in there?”
“Better now. I’m worried about Lotharia. She says the staff’s changing her basic personality.”
Falkon looked back at her. “Nothing a good bout of meditation won’t fix.”
“Changing her basic personality,” I said again with emphasis. “How’s that even possible?”
Falkon sighed. “Want the technical answer? It due to the time dilation effect. One minute in the real world is forty-five minutes in here, right? That means we’re experiencing events forty-five times quicker than normal. Which is physiologically impossible due to the limit of how quickly a neuron can fire, which is about once per millisecond.”
“Uh huh,” I said.
“Anyways, the reason that matters is because one of the two ways Albertus came up with to overclock neurons is to fill in the gaps between the “frames” created by your neuron firing with false memories. So a lot of what we experience in Euphoria isn’t directly experienced by us; it’s implanted memory, seamlessly synced up with our real-time experience. You see where I’m going with this?”
“No,” I said. “We’re having fake experiences here?”
“Not quite. It means Albertus can choose how to inflect our experience in Euphoria based on our actions. Pick up a cursed item? Those fake memories he’s inserting between our normal “frames” will be evil ones. Social psychology has shown that we understand who we are by perceiving what we do. And if what you’ve done – or felt – has been evil or twisted? You start becoming that way.”