Doc: You should have named him Cray Neeyum. Get it? Ha!
Me: Can we at least make the name reference worthy? Boom. John Hancock. Done.
Your name has been changed to John Hancock.
“That’s better,” I say under my breath.
With my Reaper mask on, everything in the OMIB is gridlines, DNA strands, and Matrix-y mumbo jumbo. My souped-up disguise should absolutely not work, but I’m not really betting on it to work, I’m betting on the troubled turdburglers trying to go medieval on me as soon as they get wind of my sorry ass.
A pod hovering over the platform lifts and moves to greet me. A light shines from its front, illuminating my chiseled body.
A guy in a Reaper mask walking in the OMIB with two mutant hacks spread up his arm? Nothing to see here folks!
The onion-shaped pod thinks otherwise.
~~Identify yourself.~~
“John Hancock,” I tell the pod.
~~This name does not appear in the database of authorized users.~~
“Yeah? That’s because I’m the new guy around here.”
~~Your response does not appear in the list of authorized responses.~~
“Yeah? Well look again, buster.”
~~Unequip your weapons and place your hands in the air, John Hancock.~~
I keep my mutant hacks on and slowly lift them up.
~~Unequip your weapons.~~
“Not gonna happen.”
Another pod flies over and shines its light on me.
~~Unequip your weapons.~~
~~Unequip your weapons.~~
“What part of no do you two fail to understand?”
Red lights on their side bodies began to blink.
“Great, here comes the cavalry.”
Five or six of the Reapers leave the platform and make their way over to me. Their mutant hacks morph into big-barreled shooters as they fan out.
~~Unequip your weapons.~~
~~Unequip your weapons.~~
Once the first few Reapers are in listening distance I call over to them.
“Hey, amigos, these pods have gone off their rockers. Can you call them off?”
The first Reaper stops and moves his head back, as if he’s looking at me funny.
“Bros, I’m here to relieve one of you,” says I. “Whoever wants to go home early, feel free.”
Frances Euphoria: Bros? Who says that anymore.
“Stay right where you are,” the first Reaper says in his heavily masked, metallic voice.
“Fellas, what’s with all the hostility? Can’t we all just get along?”
A few more Reapers leave the platform. I can see Rocket there now, his head bent forward, both hands chained to the ends of a T-shaped structure.
Hang in there, kiddo.
“John Hancock?” The first Reaper says. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
Another Reaper in a whiny female voice answers, “That’s the name of the guy who signed … something. Before there was an FCG.”
I almost drop my act to give the two skull-faced clowns a history lesson, but I catch myself just in time. “Guys, what’s with all the procedure here? I’m just doing my job.”
“Unequip your weapons!”
~~Unequip your weapons.~~
~~Unequip your weapons.~~
Those two pods will be the first thing I destroy.
The female Reaper shouts, “Unequip your weapons!”
“I forgot how, honest.”
More Reapers join them and surround me. I got about eight weapons trained on me, and if I don’t spring into action quickly …
I cough the question. “You ready, Hackie?”
Ready when you are.
“Fellas, and ladies,” I tell the gathered group of problem children, “I don’t know what all the fuss is about … ”
Doc: We’re in position. Twelve have now joined you or are on the way over. Five still at the platform. Distract them for just a bit longer.
“Unequip your weapons!” One of the Reaperettes hisses. “Last warning!”
“Why would I do that? Reaper protocol states, and I’m quoting verbatim here, All Reapers must have a stupid amount of weapons equipped at all times, even if they are unaware of how to efficiently use their weapon.”
The biggest of the bunch pushes through the crowd. Rollins-lite glares me down and at the flick of his wrist, his hack spreads up his arm, forming a large, curved blade. He raises this blade until the tip is pointing the underside of my chin.
“You got some shaving cream too?” I ask him. “I’ve been at a five o’clock shadow since yesterday and the orphanage … ”
“ENOUGH! Unequip your weapons or I will kill you now.”
Doc: Ready.
“Cool, cool,” I tell the skull-faced palooka. “Just keep your Skeletor Underoos on, got it? I’ll unequip my hacks as soon as you give me a little breathing room, sheesh.”
“Good.”
Off with his head!
He has barely removed his blade from my neck when Hackie, of his own volition, swings around and cleanly nicks off the lead Reaper’s noggin.
“Damn, that was fast!”
AA Bar activated, I backflip over the Reapers who have gathered behind me and catch Rollins-lite’s head spin into the air spritzing blood. My Reaper hack forms its mahoosive golden rimmed barrel and I fry the closest Reaper I can find.
They unload their weapons at me and I duck their first volley. Once they let up to reload, I use my AA to goose it and give me some dancing room.
Three follow and by time they arrive, I’m a tornado in a knife shop, spinning with both my hacks. I swiftly take the arms off one of the skull kids. He cries like a sissy-pants as an underslung barrel forms on my Reaper hack. I blast him, I blast another, cartwheel right, and bring Hackie up just in time to stop one of the Reapers from slicing my head off.
We go back and forth for a moment and I kick him where the sun don’t shine. In the blink of an eye, a sharp spike forms on my elbow and I bring it down onto the back of the Reaper’s head.
Feed me!
“Have at it, Hackie! It’s an All-You-Can-Gorge Reaper buffet!” I say as I blast another skull-faced nut-job. An explosion on the platform catches my attention.
The Reapers who have been stalking me turn and race towards the platform. I start firing at the them, giving them all I’ve got. “More!” I shout to both my hacks. “Fry ‘em!”
Hackie responds by forming a bad ass shoulder cannon to go along with his arm gun and its two cannons. The Reaper hack doesn’t do much, aside from increasing its blast radius.
I use what’s left of my AA to bangtail it to the Reapers advancing towards Doc and Aiden.
“Frances, update!”
Frances Euphoria: All platform targets neutralized. Doc is working on the cuffs, Aiden is providing covering fire.
A yellow portal opens up on the other side of the platform. I keep blasting at the Reapers running towards the platform with my Reaper hack and focus Hackie on the Reapers piling out of the portal.
“Shit!”
My AA gone, I slow to a crawl compared to the action happening all around me.
Frances Euphoria: I’m logging in!
Doc: Absolutely not! We need you on in-game we can handle this.
Frances Euphoria: I’m not letting you guys have all the fun!
“We’ve got this, Frances!” I say as I blast another glammed-out skull boy.
Frances Euphoria: IDEA ALERT! I’ll Random Spawn Points!
Doc: Genius! Do it! DO IT!
Another portal opens up over my left shoulder; Hackie’s shoulder cannon pivots to meet the Reapers leaping out of the portal, their guns a-blazing.
Nice! A few of the Reapers disappear as they run smackdab into random spawning points generated by Frances.
“More portals open and as the Reapers move towards the platform, their forms completely disappear. “Keep ‘em coming Frances!”
Frances Euphoria: Got it!
I see flashes of light in front of me as Aiden steps in and out of reality, cutting heads and gutting Reapers. Behind him, Doc has Rocket’s right cuff off, and now works on his left.
A Reaper breaks through Aiden’s defense; Doc pulls one of his shooting irons and unloads the entire mag into the Reaper’s skull mask and returns to the left cuff.
“Killer diller!” I’m nearly at Aiden now and there are enough Reapers around us to fill a Houston megachurch. No matter how many knuckleheads Aiden or I cut down, more appear, even with Frances’ RSPs doing them dirty.
I keep cutting, blasting, flipping and spinning around like I’m auditioning for Cirque du Soleil. I’m seconds from being overwhelmed when I hear a chainsaw roar coming from either side of the platform.
The Reapers scatter as a wall of supersonic metal tears into them.
Doc’s UA571-C remote sentry guns mow down Reapers that Aiden and I miss and we get back to doing what we do best: murdalizing. The name of the game is maim, the story of my life is an algorithm.
I slice, dice, shoot, and scoot, for the next several minutes to give Doc the cover he needs to rescue the kid.
My life bar flashes.
I look to Aiden and give him the same wolfish grin he always gives me as a Reaper’s blade presses through my chest, jutting out the front.
Everything goes red.
I laugh as Hackie’s shoulder cannon morphs into a sharp scythe that opens the Reaper’s noggin like it’s an over-ripe abscess.
Hackie takes over, and as I stand there skewered, he picks up where I left off.
Doc: Let’s go!
I tilt my head just in time to see Rocket collapse forward, free from his cuffs. Doc catches him and both their forms pixilate.
Frances Euphoria: Log out! Quantum, LOG OUT NOW!
I glance once more to Aiden, who has lost his arm from the elbow down and is still engaging a Reaper. We lock eyes and he nods to me, telling me to log out first.
Bullets tear into my chest as my hand comes up. The logout button appears and everything goes black and white. I will wake up shortly in a vat of goo sucking air through a plastic tube. I will be weak again, a cripple to some, but I will be alive and sometimes, that’s all that matters.
A sense of satisfaction rolls through me as I jam my finger onto the logout button and dematerialize.
The end
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Back of the Book Shit
Reader,
The eighth and final book in The Feedback Loop series will be release by summer of 2018. It’s the finale, the big send off, and I want enough time to really get this one right. In the meantime, I will be releasing other books that take place in the Proxima Galaxy that are related in some form to The Feedback Loop series. The first of these releases is Fantasy Online Hyperborea, which is out now.
Inspiration
Weird inspirations this time around. I got back into gaming to get a better feel for what’s going on out there and I was heavily inspired by Nier: Automata, which features a ton of mech and killer fashionable androids. This, Titanfall 2, and a childhood spent watching Power Rangers went into the Steamzoids used in the book.
Akrasia was based on Arizona’s Tent City, which as of April 2017 is in the process of being shut down. For those who haven’t read or heard of the place, a quick Google (GoogleFace) search will tell you more than you’d like to know. I suppose that is true about anything, nowadays.
Keep an eye on this space (i.e. the books I write). Later, before I release the final Feedback Loop book, I will publish a side series set in Steam based on a woman named Cyn Oneida who retrieved the four Steamsuits for Steampunk Santa. It’ll be mech-heavy.
The Proxima Galaxy keeps expanding
The Proxima Galaxy allows me the flexibility to write in both science fiction and fantasy, and I will continue to write within it for the foreseeable future. While the Feedback Loop is coming to a finish, I will continue to release works tied to the story told in these seven, later eight, books. The Feedback Loop is the foundation for what is to come, so by getting this far, you are completely primed and ready to see what else is possible in the Proxima Galaxy.
Kudos
To you, dear reader, thanks for journeying with me this far into the Proxima Galaxy and giving me the headspace to tell my story. Thanks to George C. Hopkins for the edit. Thanks to James-Andrew for giving a looksee. And Kay, as always, took care of the beta and did a bang up job.
Here’s to the last and final part in The Feedback Loop series! Set the date, summer 2018, and be sure to catch up on my other books in the meantime.
Yours in sanity,
Harmon Cooper
Amazon Profile
Be sure to check out Fantasy Online Hyperborea, a Tritania-based spinoff of the Feedback Loop series featuring several of the Feedback Loop’s MVPs!
Fantasy Online Hyperborea is now available as an ebook, print, and as an audiobook narrated by Jeff Hays. Download it here!
Enjoy the prologue on the following page.
Fantasy Online: Hyperborea (sample)
Copyright © 2017 by Harmon Cooper
Copyright © 2017 Boycott Books
Cover by Tom Shutt
Edited by George C. Hopkins ([email protected])
Float over the Endless Sea,
Hyperborea, Polynya, and Ultima Thule.”
--A famous Tritanian poem
“Takha bae bitakh novlaa rakh Aya Bortaetae,
Huborakha, Polonkhya, Hutamae Dulekh.”
--Written in Romanized Thulean
Prologue: Troll battles
At half the length of her body, Tamana’s buster sword is meant to be held with both hands, to be used as both a shield and a weapon, but she’s never been one to do things in a conventional way. She takes to the air, and following a perfect arc, she slashes through the enemy troll’s poorly crafted leather chest plate.
-15 HP!
She botches the landing, still not used to her buster sword’s weight, and cartwheels to the right. A fiery explosion suddenly flings the mountain troll backwards.
-5 HP!
Glancing over her shoulder, Tamana watches Ryuk load another black marble into his magic slingshot. He pulls back and lets go. A blast at the troll’s hairy feet produces a cloud of dust and a scattering of debris.
“Both hands on the sword!” Ryuk shouts to her for the third time that afternoon. He pops off another black marble at the feet of the troll, causing more dust to obscure the air. Range isn’t an issue with his magic slingshot; it propels the marbles with magic, not elastic, and it self-adjusts for range.
This is a good thing, as Ryuk is utterly terrible with his new avatar.
Tamana is by his side moments later, the strands of her long white hair beating in the wind. “My attack looked cool though, right?” she asks.
He has to smile at this.
“You chose a much stronger avatar than I did,” he reminds her.
She winks at him. “You always were up for a challenge.”
They lock eyes for a moment longer than necessary.
A smaller troll, likely the bigger troll’s wench, flanks the two. Grimy dreadlocks cover her face and yellow man-bone jewelry clinks around her neck. She pauses, grunts, and charges.
Ryuk loses his footing and muffs his next shot. The marble explodes and a nearby bush bursts into flames.
Still holding her weapon incorrectly, Tamana side swipes her ironing board of a sword at the she-troll and manages to cut the wench’s hairy arm clean off at the elbow. The she-t
roll shrieks as her black blood jets into the air.
-39 HP! Critical hit!
The dust clears. “Doka duchaka!” Maddened with rage, the savage male troll charges at the two with his fists held high over his head.
“I’ve got this!” Ryuk procures a clear marble from the pocket on his belt, pulls back, and looses it.
What the … ?
The male troll freezes in place, his chiseled arms still held over his head. Ryuk glances back to Tamana to find that she’s also fixed in place, her tremendous sword held awkwardly in the ‘ready enough’ position at her side. Turning to the dying female troll, he gasps once he sees that the blood spraying from her arm is pixelated, it too frozen in midair. From the grass that was moments ago blowing in the wind, to a bead of sweat on the side of Tamana’s face – everything around him is completely stationary.
But I can still move, he thinks as he squeezes the handle of his slingshot.
Not knowing how long he has until time returns to its normal pace, Ryuk moves to the side of the alpha troll, takes a few steps back just to give himself some distance, reaches for a black marble and …
Time blazes ahead and the troll turns to him.
Taken off guard, Ryuk is seconds from being clobbered when the tip of Tamana’s buster sword pierces the creature’s chest, splashing oily black ichor onto Ryuk’s face.
Instakill!
The troll slumps forward and Tamana kicks his corpse off her buster sword. She keeps the troll’s blood on the blade as she turns to his smaller counterpart. One clean swipe and she finishes off the she-troll too.
-17 HP!
They are each awarded experience points and the guild coffers increase by about a hundred rupees. With a flick of his wrist, Ryuk checks their stats and swipes them away.
Ryuk Matsuzaki Level 2 Ballistics Mage
HP: 87/115
ATK: 40
DEF: 5
MATK: 51
MDF: 18
LUCK: 3
Tamana Nakamura Level 2 White Warrior
Proxima Riven: Page 21