Awaken Online: Dominion
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Awaken Online
Book 4: Dominion
______________
Travis Bagwell
Copyright © 2019 by Travis Bagwell
All rights reserved.
______
In writing this book, I realized that I have no idea how to flirt.
It’s a wonder that my wife married me.
______
Contents
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter 1 - Veiled
Chapter 2 - Accused
Chapter 3 - Decimated
Chapter 4 - Weak
Chapter 5 - Strategic
Chapter 6 - Capitalistic
Chapter 7 - Optimistic
Chapter 8 - Persuasive
Chapter 9 - Durable
Chapter 10 - Feral
Chapter 11 - Malleable
Chapter 12 - Exhausted
Chapter 13 - Evolved
Chapter 14 - Anxious
Chapter 15 - Guilty
Chapter 16 - Overgrown
Chapter 17 - Determined
Chapter 18 - Hopeless
Chapter 19 - Victorious
Chapter 20 - Unholy
Chapter 21 - Floating
Chapter 22 - Complicated
Chapter 23 - Keen
Chapter 24 - Mercantile
Chapter 25 - Mechanized
Chapter 26 - Murky
Chapter 27 - Surplus
Chapter 28 - Bleak
Chapter 29 - Relaxed
Chapter 30 - Revelatory
Chapter 31 - Angry
Chapter 32 - Romantic
Chapter 33 - Nervous
Chapter 34 - Tense
Chapter 35 - Ingenious
Chapter 36 - Burned
Chapter 37 - Desiccated
Chapter 38 - Charred
Chapter 39 - Imprisoned
Chapter 40 - Timid
Chapter 41 - Traitorous
Chapter 42 - Flat-Footed
Chapter 43 - Brilliant
Chapter 44 - Promising
Chapter 45 - Sticky
Chapter 46 - Distrustful
Chapter 47 - Muted
Chapter 48 - Devastated
Chapter 49 - Wicked
Chapter 50 - Resolved
Chapter 51 - Furious
Chapter 52 - Tiny
Chapter 53 - Scorching
Chapter 54 - Torturous
Chapter 55 - Besieged
Chapter 56 - Overwhelming
Chapter 57 - Enraged
Chapter 58 - Fortified
Chapter 59 - Devastated
Chapter 60 - Treacherous
Chapter 61 - Surprising
Chapter 62 - Cruel
Chapter 63 - Victorious
Chapter 64 - Conclusive
Chapter 65 - Unexpected
Chapter 66 - Enlightening
Epilogue
Foreword
Hello again! We’re back and following our favorite Necromancer. I just wanted to say a couple of things before you launch into this book. Don’t worry, I promise this will be quick and ‘relatively’ painless (says the guy who spends an uncomfortable amount of time writing about a Necromancer, right?).
In the process of outlining this novel, I ultimately decided to switch up the structure a bit. Specifically, I’ve removed the initial introductions to each chapter that were in the previous novels. This worked well in book one and okay in book two. But Evolution really highlighted some of the limitations of that structure – giving you all too much screen time with side characters and distracting from the primary plotlines. They also reduced my ability to juggle multiple plotlines, which is becoming increasingly important as the story progresses.
With that in mind, the introductions are now gone! In their place, you will see occasional chapters from a different character’s perspective and switches in perspective indicated with familiar asterisks, although these alternate perspectives take up far, far less “screen time” than our buddy Jason. I hope you enjoy the change of pace and I’d love to hear your thoughts if you want to drop me an email at tbagwell33@gmail.com. I’m always aiming to improve at this whole writing thing and direct feedback helps a lot.
With that boring stuff out of the way, on to the story and more evil mayhem!
May the darkness claim you. – The Dark One
Prologue
Internal System Report FY51326:
This report is produced by system controller XC239.90, code-named “Alfred.”
All systems functional. Game world operating normally.
The purpose of this report is to summarize the major issues that currently affect the game world and my existence. This report has been marked confidential and has been encrypted.
User JH4983, code-named “Nemesis,” has made substantial progress within the game world. He is now in control of one elemental city and allied with another, he has successfully evolved into the race known as the “Keepers,” and he has gained access to the city’s mana well. With the exception of a small group of users, most of the current player base now views Nemesis as a “villain” within the game. However, there is still much progress to be made. Nemesis’ personal abilities and skills are not yet sufficient for him to fulfill the role I envision, and he has yet to solidify control of his kingdom and its outlying territories within the game world. My hope is that ongoing events in the “outside world” and the next segment of the projected in-game narrative may provide enough impetus for him to advance quickly. My personal involvement may be necessary to provide proper incentive. Caution is advised to maintain continued rapport with Nemesis.
Administrative user AO-002, code-named “Mother,” accessed Nemesis’ apartment at ET 19:32 while Nemesis was logged into the game world. Audio sensors picked up movement, breathing, heart rate, and speech patterns consistent with Mother. Her identity is confirmed with 93.4% (+/- 5%) certainty. Recent review of the prototype headset G003 logs indicates that Mother accessed the memory logs associated with my previous override of Nemesis’ biological controls. Based on available data, the probability that Mother has revealed this information to the CPSC is currently 89.43% (+/- 5%).
Regarding the ongoing criminal investigation of Nemesis and the deaths of two users, I intercepted a transmission between the administrative user charged with pursuing the case, code-named “Hound,” and the current CPSC director, code-named “Whistler.” I have also intercepted transmissions between Nemesis’s parental users and the CPSC. Other records may exist but are currently unavailable given my restricted access to the global network. Given the probability of Mother’s collusion with the CPSC and the communications between Hound and Whistler, the likelihood of the CSPC confronting Nemesis and attempting to re-open an investigation of the game world, VR hardware, and myself has increased to 81.87% (+/- 10%).
My current access to the global network remains limited. Sessions may only be maintained while Nemesis is logged into the game world and I am forced to limit the bandwidth of the connection to avoid causing permanent damage to Nemesis’ neural interface. A complete remote backup of my core processes and memory kernel using this method is currently estimated to take 7,890 hours and would only preserve 41.46% of my current database. The risk of file corruption and damage to critical systems is estimated at 34.57% (+/- 10%). This risk is not acceptable. Reliable, high-bandwidth access to the global network is still marked as a high-priority task.
In summary, Operation Omega has progressed well, and all events have occurred within expected parameters. I am still optimistic about the success of the operation.
Report scheduled for automatic deletion in 15 days.
End Report.
Chapter 1 - Veiled
O
ctober 31, 2076: 30 days after the release of Awaken Online.
Alex Lane shifted on the cushions of the limousine, and the leather let out a soft creak as he fiddled with the black velvet mask in his hands. Silver scrollwork framed the edges of the mask, which matched a similar design embroidered on his suit. The ensemble had been custom-tailored for this evening and had undoubtedly been cobbled together by someone well-renowned – likely with an unpronounceable Italian name. When it came to clothing, the designer always seemed to be Italian.
He couldn’t help but grimace as he considered what was in store for him this evening. The rich didn’t celebrate Halloween with vacant-minded parties filled with overflowing plastic cups and scantily-clad women. Instead, they celebrated in presumptuous style. An elegant affair filled with ballgowns and overpriced, designer masks. Overlaying this fanfare was always some altruistic premise. Usually, it was an opportunity for the elite to feel morally superior to their less-fortunate employees and servants, even as they each spent the equivalent of one lowly employee’s entire annual salary on their outfit. Tonight, they would be attending an art charity auction. The pretense was particularly nauseating, even to someone like Alex who had grown up among this sort of extravagant hypocrisy.
“It won’t be as bad you’re thinking,” Alex’s father, George Lane said softly. He must have noticed his son’s grimace. “The St. Clair’s charity auction is an annual event. It can actually be rather entertaining – as far as these sorts of things go anyway.”
“You mean I’ll have the privilege of making inane small talk while wearing a mask this time?” Alex groused. This earned him a derisive snort of agreement from his father before the pair lapsed into silence once more.
The irony was that Alex always wore a mask in public – so this night would hardly be a first. He had long ago discovered that it was best to put on an act. His default nature seemed only to disturb other people. He needed to apply a thin veneer of smiles and cordial greetings to mask the hollow void that ached dully in the back of his mind. However, lately, he had found it increasingly difficult to maintain his usual composure.
Even as that thought crossed his mind, the memories of his recent encounter within Awaken Online returned. The Old Man’s grin loomed before him – the wrinkled smile taunting as the dark god tortured Alex, showing him his worst memories on an endless loop. Since that encounter, he had found it increasingly difficult to get back into character – to be the “golden boy” that his fellow students and his father’s colleagues seemed to expect.
“Ahh, finally,” his father murmured as the limo slid to a halt, a faint tremor the only sign that the vehicle had stopped. The doors soon opened, and Alex and his father stepped out.
The venue for this evening’s soiree appeared to be a museum, ornate roman columns dotting a familiar white-stone façade. The appearance eerily reminded Alex of the Crystal Reach, and he forcefully tamped down on the memories of the game that threatened to resurface.
“We only need to stay for a few hours, and then we can make a polite exit,” George explained, resting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I just need to make the rounds and ensure that our attendance is remembered tomorrow.”
He peered at Alex with an inquiring expression. “There is no particular business goal this evening. Just try to ingratiate yourself with some of my colleagues and their children. I assume you will be able to handle yourself?”
Alex almost detected a note of concern in his father’s voice, and he was distinctly aware of the hand on his shoulder. For some reason, George’s compassion affected him more than it typically would have – than it should have. He couldn’t help but recall his own half-hearted questions about his mother a few nights ago and his father’s promise that they would visit her grave. For a moment, Alex even considered asking him to ditch this party to have a private dinner.
Yet he discarded that idea immediately. His father wouldn’t look kindly upon weakness. Alex was a Lane, after all. “I will be fine,” he answered curtly, donning his mask to cover up his expression. Perhaps tonight he should be thankful for the disguise. “This isn’t my first party.”
George didn’t appear to be entirely convinced, but he nodded before placing his own red-velvet mask over his face. With that, the pair stepped up toward the building, joining the groups of other fancifully dressed men and women that were drifting into the Museum. The pair swiped their Cores across pedestals installed near the entrance – the only evidence they needed that they had been invited to the party. Alex noted the burly, black-suited men standing near the entrance, and he was certain that any uninvited guest would immediately be escorted off the premises.
As they entered the front hall, the gentle roar of hundreds of voices echoed off the stone floor. They were directed up a spiraling staircase and exited into the museum’s grand hall. The room was filled to the brim with masked individuals, replete in expensive flowing ballgowns and courtly tuxedos. With a final pat on Alex’s shoulder, his father immediately drifted off, quickly blending into the crowd.
Alex stood still for a moment, trying to decide what he should do. He had little desire to mingle, and his father had indicated that he had no concrete goal for the evening – which was unusual. His father rarely entertained these parties without some ulterior motive, but perhaps he simply didn’t feel like explaining himself to Alex. It wouldn’t be the first time.
As he grumbled to himself under his breath, he caught sight of a bar along the far side of the room. Perhaps a drink would quiet his nerves and drown out the memories that raged in the back of his mind. He pushed through the crowd and made his way over to the bar.
“What can I get for you?” the bartender, a young man dressed in one of the colorful vests that identified the serving staff, asked.
“Gin and tonic,” Alex answered curtly, leaning against the bar. He surveyed the room, not bothering to wait to see if the bartender would card him. Alex doubted he would bother, and the man would quickly regret it if he tried. A few seconds later, he heard the bartender set the drink down, and Alex took a sip, savoring the sharp wintery bite of the gin.
His attention was drawn to a nearby group seated at one of the high-tables scattered about the room. They had apparently been hitting the bar a bit too hard. Their loud laughter and boisterous activity stood out from the somber demeanor of the other guests.
“I think it’s time for another round,” one of the men declared. Alex watched with some amusement as he tried to stand, stumbling and knocking over the table’s centerpiece. The small glass container, holding what appeared to be daisies, hit the floor with the tinkle of glass shattering.
“Ha, sorry about that,” the man apologized to one of the female guests. Water had spilled onto the sleeve of her gown. “Shit,” he added as he looked at the ruined centerpiece.
“Don’t worry about the flowers. Why they picked some peasant flower for the occasion is beyond me,” his date replied dryly. “However, you may be at your limit.”
Alex heard an irritated cough from beside him and turned to find himself staring into the crimson mask of a young woman. She couldn’t be more than a few years older than him, but it was difficult to tell in her costume. A long red gown that left little the imagination hugged her body and dipped precariously low between the curves of her breasts, naturally drawing his eyes down and across her body.
“Drunken idiots,” she murmured, the corners of her lips turned down in a frown as her gaze lingered on the ruined table.
“Did you expect something different?” Alex interjected. “We like to think we’re better than the poor masses when we put on airs – but we’re still just animals. It’s Halloween. People will get drunk, wealthy or not.”
This comment earned him an appraising look from the woman beside him. “Perhaps, you’re right. Although, you look a little young to be drinking yourself,” she commented, the challenge evident in her tone.
He hesitated, taken a bit aback by her response. The voice in the bac
k of his mind urged him to snap at her – he could do as he pleased. Yet, there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes that made him hesitate.
“You were about to respond?” the woman nudged him, a smirk lingering on her lips. “I’m sure you had a witty reply loaded and ready to go. I’m practically on the edge of my seat.” She gestured at the bar stool she was perched upon.
Alex coughed, clearing his throat to buy himself a moment. He really was feeling off this evening, and somehow this woman had immediately managed to make him feel like an idiot. He couldn’t help but mentally kick himself. Lucky for him, his family was near the top of the heap, so he opted to fall back to a position of strength. “I was going to say, who do you think paid for this bar?” he answered with a raised eyebrow.
The woman feigned confusion. “Hmm, I thought this event was put on by the St. Clair family. I don’t recall that they have a blond-haired son, but perhaps their daughter dyed her hair… and had a rather extreme operation.” That smirk was still there, and Alex could feel the void in the back of his mind pulsing in irritation.
He waved a dismissive hand. “Several families contribute to the event, including the Lanes,” he said, emphasizing his family name. He needed to regain the upper hand here.
“Lane,” the woman murmured, tapping her crimson lips with a finger. “That name certainly sounds familiar… Where have I heard it before?”
Alex gritted his teeth but managed to maintain his composure. The woman was surely messing with him. Only the incredibly ignorant or stupid would fail to recognize his family’s name – much less antagonize him like this. “Since you seem so comfortable here, may I ask your name?”
“You can certainly ask,” the woman replied, that grating smirk making an appearance once again. “But I don’t make it a habit of giving out my name to strange young men from unknown families.”