Adrenaline surged through Frank’s veins as he surveyed the battle – his worry immediately forgotten as his regular battle rage began to claim him. Without even noticing it, his kneecaps had inverted with a sickening pop, transforming his legs. He barely acknowledged the flash of pain anymore – the sensation only heightening his focus.
Vera looked over at Frank and noticed the way his eyes were trained hungrily on the undead creatures. “Go,” she ordered. “Give us a distraction, and I’ll have the wolves support you.”
Frank didn’t wait for any further instruction. His muscles strained with effort as he launched himself nearly twenty feet into the air and over the line of Kin, his mutated legs acting as a natural springboard. He reached the crest of his leap, and his stomach lurched as he began his descent. He readied his axes – raising them over his head and lightning crackling along the blades.
He hit the ground with tremendous force, his axes carving cleanly through the necks of two of the skeletal creatures. Frank spun in a tight circle, lashing out with his blades, and creating a pocket for himself among the gnashing maws of bone and razor-sharp claws. Cuts and scratches ripped at the skin of his arms and torso, but he barely noticed – his vision honing to a fine point in the heat of battle. He could only focus on the swing of his axe and the ripple of force up his arms as his blows connected – a manic grin painted on his face as his blades ripped into the enemy creatures and their cries filled the air.
And then he was standing in an open space among the Wraithlings. The creatures circled him, backing off slightly at the ferocity of his attack. He met the gaze of their soulless black eyes – a look exchanged between two predators. They pawed at the ground, and the same chittering sound filled the air. They would charge soon. For some reason, he could sense their anticipation – the feeling more instinct than logic.
Shouting broke out behind him and Frank spared a glance back at the line. The shadows of dozens of skeletal forms filled the air, outlined by the occasional flash of lightning that filled the night sky. Their wolves landed with a deadly grace, having bounded over the line of infantry. Frank didn’t hesitate, and he immediately summoned Rage of the Herd – his body beginning to glow red and his eyes taking on a bloodthirsty appearance. The effect spread to the wolves, who let out tortured howls as their bodies were framed in a blood-red aura.
Then they took the fight to the enemy. The battle raged around Frank, filled with the spine-tingling screech of bone striking bone and cries of pain and snarls of rage. Curses spun and danced through the air, the sharp little needles homing in on the Wraithlings and slowing their movements so that Frank and his wolves could rip apart their weakened foes.
Frank wasn’t certain how much time passed as he spun and danced in a ballet of destruction. Yet it felt like only moments later that he stood still – no more enemies within reach of his axes. Nearly a dozen Wraithlings were racing back into the tree line, their chittering barely audible any longer. A hand rested on his shoulder and Frank whirled, his weapons ready.
“Hold, soldier,” Vera barked. “I’m not your enemy. It’s over.” Frank could see that she was right, but he could still feel adrenaline surging through his veins – his body not yet forgetting the conflict. It took a distinct effort to slow his breathing, loop his axes at his waist, and let his legs return to normal.
“You there,” Vera called out, pointing at two soldiers. “Mount up and follow the creatures. I want to know where they are retreating to.” The men nodded quickly, hopping onto two of the wolves before bounding off into the forest.
Vera turned her attention back to Frank. “You need to see to your wounds,” she offered, almost kindly. Only then did he realize he was sitting at 10% health and his body was stained red with his own blood. He pulled a health potion from his bag and downed its contents in a single gulp – silently thanking Eliza for handing him a goodie bag before he left.
As his thoughts began to clear and his body repaired itself, Frank glanced at Vera. “Why did you send men after those creatures?”
A frown creased the soldier’s face. “Because this was unusual. We’ve spent weeks in these woods fighting the undead around the Twilight Throne.” She kicked at one of the nearby piles of bone – what had once been a raptor-like creature. “I’ve never seen these before – much less packs of this size or strength.”
“That is… unusual,” Frank agreed. His eyes drifted back across the battlefield. Bones and corpses littered the roadway. He saw more than a dozen of their own soldiers among the dead. The Wraithlings had been vicious and fast. “I doubt that most civilians could have handled that attack. Hell, most travelers wouldn’t have survived,” he offered softly.
“Even we took heavy losses,” Vera agreed with a nod. “But you’re right. These things pose a serious risk to travelers along the road. So we’re going to track them back to their lair and figure out what we’re dealing with. I doubt it will cost us much time on the route to this first village.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Frank replied, his attention turning back to the dead men and women lying unmoving on the ground around them. He wasn’t certain what they should do for them. Did they bury NPCs in this world? Even if they were already undead?
As he watched, a soldier knelt beside the corpse of a woman. Her arm had been sheered from her body, congealed black blood oozing from the wound and her bleached eyes were vacant of life. The soldier’s lips moved as he murmured to the dead woman. Frank couldn’t quite hear the words, but he made out something like “final death.” Then the soldier ripped off the woman’s finger and placed it in his pouch.
“What’s he doing?” Frank asked Vera quietly – trying not to let the other soldiers overhear him. He could see other others performing the same macabre ritual for the rest of the dead, pocketing small pieces of their bodies.
“Last rights,” she grunted, her eyes clouding as she watched the scene. “Jason offered us a second life with these bodies – one with the promise of immortality. However, we can still die. That much is abundantly clear.”
“There have been rumors lately that Jason can inter the bodies of the Kin in the soul well even after they die; that this allows their souls to live on in the well for eternity,” Vera continued. “So they take a finger from the fallen, in the hope that they can give it to Jason and he can place it inside the well.” She looked on as the soldiers stripped their fallen comrades after performing the ritual, salvaging their gear and equipment.
Frank’s eyes widened as he listened to Vera. There was some truth to what she was saying – Jason had confirmed as much when he told Frank and Riley about the ritual they had performed over the mana well. His friend said he had even met Rex during that ritual. But Frank hadn’t realized that this news had spread to the rest of the Kin and he wasn’t sure whether the their souls could really be preserved in the well.
“What do you think?” Frank asked Vera. “Do you think it’s true?”
Vera hesitated, glancing at him before shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that they believe it. These little rituals keep us sane given the risks we face. They give us a sense of control over something immeasurably more powerful than us.” She turned to look at Frank. “Jason can’t stop death. No one can – not even the gods themselves.”
The woman observed Frank’s hard expression as he stared at the fallen and her hand rested on his shoulder. “Try not to dwell on it. We take things one step at a time – that’s how we move forward. I expect that we will see worse before our task is complete.”
With that, the undead woman walked away, leaving Frank to watch the Kin scour the field and giving him time to dwell on his own troubled thoughts. He would never adapt to how disturbingly real this world felt. Would this scene have looked much different had it happened in his world? They were different rites, but the idea was the same. He often felt like the barrier between the game and his other life – his real life – kept breaking down.
His gaze
drifted to the ground, and he noticed a speck of cloth below the bones and debris of one of the Wraithlings. He kicked aside the remains to discover the body of a young man, his skeletal form dismembered and his head lying askew. Without thinking, Frank stooped and grabbed the man’s hand, swiftly jerking his arm to remove a finger. The last traces of dark mana that held the man’s body together put up little resistance, and the extremity came free with a soft popping sound.
He looked down at the appendage, his thoughts troubled. Jason had tasked him with conquering the villages around the Twilight Throne. Would he have to kill those townspeople? Would they act like the Kin? Did they have lives and beliefs that gave their digital life purpose?
It pained Frank to admit that he was only now appreciating the full import of what he might need to do. Despite telling himself that this wasn’t real, guilt still hung heavy on his shoulders. He had been hoping to avoid another confrontation with Thorn – another public demonstration of just how useless he had been in that fight. But was this really better? Would he have to kill innocent villagers to conquer these towns? Could he convince them to give up their lives willingly like Jason had done in Peccavi? Did he have that in him?
Frank didn’t know how to answer any of those questions – and he couldn’t – not right now at least. He placed the finger in his bag and stood, his expression hardening as he watched the Kin tend to their dead. For now, it didn’t matter. Vera was right. They needed to take things one step at a time. And their next step was to find where these creatures had come from.
He might have plenty of blood on his hands before this was over, but he would also try to help where he could. That would have to be enough.
Chapter 11 - Malleable
Jason was sitting in the cafeteria at Cerillion Entertainment, trying to shovel food into his mouth as quickly as he could while ignoring the stares of the nearby employees. This was the first time he had logged out of AO in nearly 12 hours. He only had two days or so left in-game and every second he spent here in the real world meant four seconds had passed in-game.
Even now, he felt like he should be training. He had even given up on sleep last night. Although, in some ways, that had been a blessing – avoiding the chaotic, dark dreams that plagued his every unconscious moment. That happy thought reminded him that he needed to swallow another mouthful of coffee – he was on his fourth cup. Hell, he shouldn’t be here right now. He had only been forced to visit the cafeteria since his apartment had been completely out of food when he woke up and his body had insisted that eating was a necessity.
Stupid body.
A cough interrupted his shoveling process, and Jason glanced up, his fork hovering in the air. “I, uh, think you might be making people uncomfortable,” Robert said dryly as he took a seat across from Jason. He was sporting his usual t-shirt and chucks, although this time his shirt wasn’t posing another cringe-worthy gaming joke. Maybe his co-workers had complained.
Somewhat ironically, Robert eyed Jason’s wrinkled clothes skeptically before sparing a glance at the nearby employees – most of whom were dressed in immaculate office attire. “I’m surprised no one reported a homeless teenager in the cafeteria. Especially one who looks like he’s eating for a family of five.” He said this last part while gesturing to the multiple plates set out before Jason.
“Sorry,” he mumbled around a mouthful of food, forcing himself to swallow and set down his fork. Once he slowed down, the fatigue immediately began to creep up on him again, and he rubbed at his eyes. “I’m running against a deadline in-game,” he tried to explain. “I don’t have a lot of time.”
“It looks like you didn’t sleep last night,” Robert observed.
“Well, I sort of slept,” Jason replied slowly. He thought he had passed out for a few minutes after a particularly grueling set of exercises. That counted. Kind of.
Robert sighed. “Look. I’m going to be a hypocrite here, I know, but you still have to take care of your body. Bathroom, shower, food – you know the drill. Alfred can compensate for these functions to some degree by slowing your body’s metabolism. But it isn’t a substitute. Prolonged abuse of the VR system will cause you to get sick.”
“I know, I know,” Jason replied. “I just need to get past this hurdle. It’s important.” His eyes clouded over as he stared at the table, already mentally cataloging the list of things he needed to do once he got back inside AO. Rex had been relentless.
Then a question occurred to Jason – one he hadn’t been able to pose to Alfred since the AI had been rather elusive lately. “Since we’re sort of on the same topic, one of the NPCs in-game explained that there is a limit to the number of spells I can learn,” Jason said, watching Robert’s expression carefully. “That seemed odd. Is that really a safety issue or what?”
Robert frowned slightly. “Generally speaking, the way Alfred imparts memories isn’t dangerous,” he replied. “As best we can tell, the AI replicates the same method by which our brain retains memories – he just speeds up that process considerably. Essentially, you are learning the skill, just very quickly. There were some concerns during testing that this process may have possible negative repercussions. You are still a biological machine, after all. Your body needs maintenance. For example, sleep helps your brain process memories.” He said this while grabbing a piece of bacon from one Jason’s plates and smiling wryly.
“So we decided a hard limit was the best approach,” Robert continued. “That would allow the players to ease into the game world by learning skills and spells almost instantly and would avoid the need for them to learn an entire language from scratch. We wanted the user experience to be as seamless as possible – especially for people just starting out. But a hard limit prevents them from overdoing it. You could probably still encounter the same issues with the enhanced learning speed, but that would be a bit more difficult since it slows down the process considerably.”
Jason’s brow furrowed in thought. He had been getting more than his fair share of “brain dumps” – as he was starting to refer to them in his head. He had already gone over the memorization cap, he had been experiencing the Keeper’s visions, and he had been using the system to accelerate his school work and learning speed. Although, he hadn’t noticed any issues. He had been feeling a little more tired than usual lately – but that could have also been the lack of sleep.
“So there haven’t been any negative side effects from going over the memorization cap or training?” Jason asked, his attention turning back to Robert. The engineer hadn’t actually answered his question.
Robert hesitated, his eyes darting to the side for just a moment. “No. To my knowledge, no one has encountered any issues under the current system.”
Jason was tired. Really tired. But he hadn’t missed Robert’s careful wording or his hesitation. Perhaps something more was going on here. This wasn’t a good sign with the CPSC breathing down their necks. Jason would need to remember to ask Alfred – perhaps the AI would give him a straight answer. To Jason’s knowledge, he had always been truthful.
“Anyway,” Robert said, breaking the silence that now hung over the table. “I didn’t really show up to nag or talk about safety protocols.” He glanced down at the Core on his wrist, noting the time. “But you might want to keep shoveling while we talk – we don’t have much time left.”
Jason glanced up at him curiously, but he went back to gorging as fast as possible instead of bothering to pose his obvious question.
“I’m sure you are aware at this point that the CPSC is trying to re-open the investigation into AO and the AI controller that runs the game,” Robert explained, earning him a quick nod from Jason. “Well, there will be a regulatory hearing soon that will decide whether that is going to happen. I’m supposed to retrieve you so that we can meet with George and Francis.”
Jason could suddenly feel his hunger evaporating, replaced by a queasy sensation. Although, he couldn’t be sure if this was due to nerves or the two omelets and four pi
eces of toast he just had eaten. He had been hoping that he had a while before he would have to deal with the CPSC again. Clearly, he had been wrong.
“Yeah, so that’s not great news, I know,” Robert said as he saw Jason’s expression.
“Why do I need to participate in the meeting?” Jason asked, although he already suspected the answer.
“I think it’s better for Francis and George to explain,” Robert replied with a frown. “But I’m sure you can guess at this point that they will probably call you as a witness. I heard about how Gloria ambushed you with your parents,” he added, his expression souring. “God, I hate that woman.”
Jason couldn’t help but echo that sentiment. She wasn’t exactly his favorite person either. The mention of his parents also didn’t make him feel much better. He still wasn’t quite sure what Gloria’s game plan had been there.
“Anyway, we’ve gotta roll,” Robert said. “You want to bring a plate or…”
“I think I’m good,” Jason said, pushing away his food. He had suddenly lost his appetite. “I guess we should get this over with.” He could only hope that this meeting would be relatively quick and painless. He needed to get back in-game.
* * *
Robert and Jason walked into a glamorous conference room on one of the upper floors of the Cerillion Entertainment building. The rectangular enclosure sported floor to ceiling windows running along one wall, providing an unimpeded view of the city skyline: towering office buildings glimmering in the sunlight and the city’s sky tram network crisscrossing the sky above them. In the center of the room rested a large conference table, not dissimilar to the one in Jason’s keep. Although, this version didn’t sport intricate scrollwork and the lighting was a little less macabre.
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