Continue Online (Book 1, Memories)

by Stephan Morse

  “We know!” Awesome Jr. was yelling too. Everyone was, their bodies damaged and run down. William Carver’s existence could see the pop-up boxes forming off to the side of the party’s screens. They were receiving increases to abilities as each one practiced with their virtual lives on the line.

  I growled and tried to stand back up. The sword slipped and lost my progress. Another whack from one forearm sent me sprawling a second time. The world rung and Carver’s vision took a turn for the worse.

  “Come on.” This time, I pushed through all the protests and got back to my feet. A third crash of flames poured against the boss monster’s arm and set it shrieking.

  Carver’s fancy blade swung. Light formed on the top along with a notification of various abilities colliding together in some super move. There was no time to read the system text as I tightened my face and pulled with all the simulated strength Carver had. My unintended move connected and severed the already burning leg.

  “Get them!” Shadow yelled again.

  “I’m out of fire potions!”

  “Figure out something useful then!” Shadow and Awesome Jr. seemed destined to babble at each other. The creature fell off balance with another roar which stunned us completely. Their continued argument was muffled in the ringing that followed the creature’s shout.

  Stunned!

  Abilities requiring focus suffer a 50% penalty.

  “No. Not yet.” My arm wiggled but failed to move correctly. Only four weeks of clutching at a cane kept my hand’s grip strong.

  HotPants couldn’t swing her staff but she did manage to fall to one side and squish a few of the small scattered enemies. If she could do that much, then William Carver should be at least twice as stubborn.

  “Come on.” It was becoming a mantra as I fought to stand.

  [Stubborn as a Mule] activated.

  Stun effects reduced.

  Abilities require focus suffer a 20% penalty.

  “Come on!” Twenty percent was still too much. I had to get myself back into the fight in order to protect the others. They were having a hard time against little ones.

  I stomped a foot against the ground as hard as possible. Jarring shock rippled up the leg, spine, and to the top of my head. Double vision pieced back together in time to hear a second scream that repeated the effects of the first.

  Stunned!

  Abilities requiring focus suffer an additional 50% penalty.

  “Double stuns?!” Awesome Jr. groaned and fell to his knees amid a series of broken enemies. Their arms still twitched even though their health bars were empty.

  [Stubborn as a Mule] updated.

  Stun effects reduced.

  Abilities require focus suffer a 40% penalty.

  The giant creature took strides across the room. One formally severed arm half formed in a skeletal mockery of itself. There were no eyes to speak of on the creature, but it’s jaw was grinning as damaged limbs stumbled forth.

  “Ru-u-un!” SweetPea stuttered.

  Carver did, not, run. No matter how caring these teenagers’ warnings were. I would stand my ground. I would swing this sword over and over until there was nothing left. Nope, instead I took another claw to the body. The pain sent me flying far enough that there was time to wonder what a bear’s attack would feel like. Likely very similar, more mass and strength over the small tears of these tentacle creatures. Bearing the brunt of a third attack brought my already fading health bar down to twenty percent.

  Blood was everywhere. Vision blurred by streams of sweat. The sword was still in my hand. I had mere seconds to get back to my feet before the creature would attack again. Another one of those hits would maim me. Maim Carver. Whatever.

  One knee was up, the leg didn’t have enough strength to force me to stand. Both hands were gripped around the giant sword’s handle. I glared at the creature in my best old man defiance.

  “I will not die lying down.” Carver would not die lazing about. He would stand and fight. He would stand and swing, and swing, and swing.

  I, however, slipped and fell. The one knee I had propped up lost purchase and left me hanging on by the edge of Carver’s sword. At least there was still that minor dignity.

  A weight pressed on my shoulder and hissed. Then spat a small ball of fire. I had enough awareness to glance to the side. A small [Messenger’s Pet]‘s was spitting defiance at the larger creature. The sheer audacity of my situation must have set the boss monster back because it growled and roared.

  Stunned!

  Abilities requiring focus suffer an additional 50% penalty.

  “Oh god. We’re all screwed.” Shadow was pressed against the ground. One eye tilted up, seeing the giant creature towering over the lot of us. The boss was smaller than before, having lost some mass to the destruction of its wriggling bits.

  I tried to stand up again. Both hands pulled with frail strength upon the sword’s hilt. The blade dug into tile and ground below in response. Even if this horrifyingly giant mass of squiggles descended those jaws my direction. A pitiful death would invalidate my attempt to give him a stellar ending.

  “His health. It keeps going down.”

  I winced and realized that the wounds all over my body had applied a bleed of some sort. My quarter of health was down to ten percent. This was not fair. This was not the way things should end. I would not die on the ground. I would stand on my feet. I would go out like Carver wanted.

  SweetPea reached out with one hand to try and heal me. Her battered form stretched across the ground and a torn look across her features. I had enough strength to look around and weakly smile at the lot of them. They were only here on this fool’s errand because of me. Me and this brilliant idea to take Carver into a dungeon. [Messenger’s Pet] was still spitting tiny balls of fire out. They were minuscule before the bigger monster, but enough to cause it to flinch at times as chunks sizzled.

  Brief moments of respite allowed me to struggle back to my feet. Everything felt worse than it had. My strength from the dances had faded. The sword in my hands turned back to its cane. Both knees locked up into position in order to keep me upright. Pain flared between my shoulders as everything hunched again. There, like my first day as William Carver, I stood. Putting on an air of pride.

  We, Carver and I, would die on our feet. By all the Voices Continue had to offer, by all the mental willpower available to me. I would grace him with that image at least.

  But I might close my eyes, if only a little.

  There was another roar from the boss. As if my debilitation could get any worse. Another wave rippled through preceded by a giant stomp. Another giant footstep came through and a sixth roar.

  This time, a much louder, much angrier cry answered the boss. From above and behind, somewhere in the distance came a loud scream that sounded more like thunder than a giant lion. I opened one eye a little and saw the nearly empty health bar. A cough full of blood sputtered out of my old form.

  The other eye opened and vision swam into focus. Something new collided at high speeds with the boss monster. A shock wave rippled as the two connected. I pulled together what little willpower was left. [Identification] triggered on the newest creature.

  Failure abounded. Repetitive stuns had made pretty much skill usage impossible. I had a hunch, given the sleek azure skin and thinned look. A female I think. That shade matching her scales lined up with the scarf of a certain orphanage caretaker. It also matched scales I handed over to that very same woman.

  “Who is that?” Someone whispered but my ears were muffled from all the yells.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Carver’s almost dead, do you have anything left?” Awesome Jr. asked.

  “Better yet, why is that dragon helping?”

  “She, I think.” HotPants said.

  She, the giant azure dragon, was going to town on the creatur
e of nightmares and ink. Relief washed across my face. It was enough to make me happy in this path. I stayed on my feet and suffered the buffet of wings and near misses of huge limbs. Wingtips, balls of flame, and conglomerations of tentacle monsters passed me where I stood. My health dipped into critical and started flashing.

  I nodded and bore witness to the scene.

  Flames proved to be the nightmare’s downfall. Ball after ball of light orange fire spat out of the dragon’s maw. Each one sending the boss creature into fits as it shrank visibly and writhed. Soon there was nothing but a growing puddle of goo.

  Finally, its health bar reached rock bottom. She, the dragon, let out a few more blasts to ensure that the enemy’s health went into the negatives.

  I tried to smile but instead hit rock bottom myself and slipped downward again. Rapidly my legs gave out and soon Carver’s body was on the ground. I had a front row view of the large dragon shrinking and twisting upon itself. The dragon was turning back towards me and in moments she turned into human form.

  Our mystery rescuer was Mylia, the Half-Dragon orphanage Mother. Her hands reached for a scarf and wrapped it back across her hair. The blue knitted clothing was now obviously hiding a small pair of horns and a tint of azure scales that hung around her forehead. One more mystery solved of why she looked the way she did. She was practically dainty now as she screamed out Carver’s name.

  “Carver!”

  I tried to smile but barely moved my eyes in her direction.

  “Carver!” She shouted again. Did no one want to use my, I mean his, first name?

  “Mylia.” I croaked.

  “SweetPea, can you do anything?”

  “I’m completely out. Empty. Do you have any bandages?”

  “Nothing for that level of damage.” HotPants said.

  “Anyone have anything?” Awesome Jr. sounded nearly frantic. The four of them were standing around now, moving but not nearly as broken as I was. They at least had slivers of health remaining.

  “Mylia.” I croaked again.

  “I’m here Carver.”

  Swallowing hurt. Breathing was beyond difficult. There was a taste of copper in the back of my mouth that would make me barf again if there was any strength to do so. I had nothing left but still had room for a final push. I won and succeeded in a final adventure. There was one thing left to do.

  “Tell me a story, Mylia.” My lips felt dry. Everything hurt more than normal. The pain was rapidly fading into a numb sensation.

  “I will. I will, you have to make it through. We’ll get High Priestess Peach here, or I’ll carry you.”

  “Mylia,” I whispered with all the strength left to my old body.

  “Mister Carver. You can’t die now, what will the kids do?”

  “Tell me a story.”

  “I don’t…” She was crying.

  “You promised… to think about it.” My hips hurt fiercely.

  “I, I don’t know where to start.”

  “Your story Mylia.” I gasped and coughed. The vile taste in the back my throat grew worse and breathing was harder. Another wracking wave of coughs as my frail form couldn’t double up. Carver wouldn’t cry, I existed beyond this game, but right now there was nothing else. Mylia was getting a chance to say goodbye and that was something everyone deserved.

  “What do I say? How do I start?”

  “Once upon a time,” SweetPea said. “That’s how all the best stories start.”

  “So cliché,” Shadow muttered. HotPants poked him weakly.

  I tugged at Mylia’s sleeve in desperation. Neither eye seemed capable of focusing. They slowly drifted downward and barely worked. Blackness haunted the edges of my vision.

  “Okay. Okay, a story. But you have to stay with me, Mister Carver.” She swallowed too and wiped away her tears. Moments later they returned but she worked through.

  “Once upon a time…” Mylia Jacobs whispered.

  The flashing health bar stopped with one final blaze of red. I lost my grip on the cane and blackness descended, leaving her story unheard. A message slowly appeared upon my screen.

  You have died

  I reached for the logout button before anything else could interrupt me. My mind was in no mood to handle anymore tonight.

  Conclude – Data Stored to Autopilot

  Data Recording of the entity known as James – an AI in Continue Online.

  “As a Voice there are many sensations we notice, that are invisible to the normal denizens of our universe. Emotions, thoughts, how parts of the Traveler’s brain react when presented standard stimulus. Each item is captured and used to build an impression of these other world visitors.

  It is not easy.

  Most of our charges are difficult to follow and require a level of focus that we cannot spare. Grant Legate has been a bright spot, both here in our plane, and down on the core world of [Arcadia]. He is still in a limbo between our worlds. We have used this fact as a gateway to clarity on the people below. His performance has been positive overall.

  Four other Travelers to our world joined Grant Legate. They have acquitted themselves well and were rewarded accordingly, in the fashion that Travelers seem to enjoy. All four have been marked by us for further review. They may prove useful.

  I will attempt to capture their state of mind since they traveled to our world, and replay it for the record. Many of these items will be lacking in detail due to limited observation time. Perceptions cited are based on actions and conversations the Travelers have participated in. First, however, we must recount of those moments following the cessation of William Carver from [Arcadia] proper. This will help to further cement our interest in the Travelers involved.

  The Last Recorded Events Following William Carver’s passing

  William Carver laid on the ground with his eyes vacantly staring off. The wrinkles of his face had nearly forced them shut in his last moments. There were no tears on him, only wounds from where he had proudly fought during his last moments. Mylia Jacobs, the caretaker for [Haven Valley]’s orphanage, had arrived too late.

  “What do we do?” HotPants asked. “Can we do anything?”

  “I know CPR in real life, but I’ve never tried to use it in-game,” Awesome Jr. said. He frantically searched through menu options for additional ingredients. Two potions were poured into each other and promptly started overflowing with mucus. The bottle was thrown to one side and Awesome Jr. looked even more upset.

  “Miss, let Adam, I mean Awesome try.” SweetPea was next to Mylia and pleading. Tears in her eyes could be seen. The girl had pulled off her hoodie and was holding it in one hand.

  “No. No.” Mylia was shaking her head back and forth. “It won’t help. He’s dead.”

  “Maybe I can…” The teen male said with a lost look.

  Mylia shook her head and rocked slowly. Her eyes were closed and face seemed to be warping slightly. A temporary bulge on her forehead grew as horns came out only to recede again. The players were hesitant to come close after seeing the giant form she had been minutes ago.

  “He’s gone.” The orphan caretaker sounded sure. “The Voices have taken him.”

  “How do you know?” SweetPea asked slowly.

  “You’ll see soon.” She sat there cradling the head of an old man and said a prayer. Her eyes stayed closed as a prayer passed across her lips. “May the Voices have mercy, William Carver.”

  “I still find this world hard to understand. He’s a program, so are you, why does anyone care?” HotPants had managed to keep herself steady during this exchange. Partly because standing on her own two feet required an intense amount of focus.

  “William wasn’t always one of ours, a local. He was once like you four, a Traveler. Only so many have forgotten.”

  “What?” Awesome Jr. was the first to speak up followed quickly by Shadow. Both had the same startled expression.

  “I met him once, years ago, a few days after my fat
her died.” Mylia shook her head. “I was young, lost in the woods, and Mister Carver gave me some food and got me to the nearest city.”

  “Was your father, the dragon, that Mister Carver killed?” SweetPea was taking point with Mylia. Even HotPants seemed confused on how to handle a crying woman. The two boys were completely out of their depth.

  “Yes.” Mylia’s face rippled and shoulders bulged. She was not in a good spot right now, not after the brief but fiery battle.

  “Did you hate Mister Carver for that?”

  “No! Voices no, my father was a terrible creature. A terrible vile creature.” She gave a very halfhearted chuckle. Hidden in its depths was the hiccup of a repressed sob. “Half-dragons don’t come into being easily, and rarely happily.” She shook her head.

  “Was Mister Carver a Traveler then?”

  “He carried the same air that you all do.” Her hand gestured outward towards the four players who sat huddled together.

  “Then he’s not dead, right?” They were still gathered like a group of lost children. Even HotPants seemed to seek the comfort of those who were familiar.

  “Wait a minute, that old bastard!” HotPants swore repeatedly in fury. “He knew! He told me!” The staff started lashing out against the hedge maze’s defenseless walls.

  “If he’s like us, he probably logged out somewhere.”

  “No. He’s dead there too.” Mylia’s face twisted and finally one hand brushed at the side of Carver’s still form. Carver’s skin looked faint. Slowly there seemed to be something missing. At first behind the eyes, then more as an absence swallowed William Carver from the inside out.

  “What do you mean, Miss Jacobs?” SweetPea asked. She was wringing out the hoodie between both hands. The other players gasped as the last of William’s body vanished with a sound like shattering glass. Mylia nodded slowly.

  “There. When a Traveler can no longer come back, they, they break.” She pulled off the scarf wrapped around her forehead and dabbed at watery eyes.

  “Is he?”

  “He’s…” Shadow muttered. The would-be assassin had been quiet during most of this exchange but still he watched.