The Twilight Obelisk

by Alexey Osadchuk

  “Forward!” Droy commanded from behind us.

  “Rrrragh!” the warriors grunted in unison, stepping forward. They pushed the last remaining line of Nocteans back, assaulting their armorless bodies with spears, hammers and poleaxes.

  The warriors’ broad “green” shields absorbed Noctean attacks. Our soldiers winced and frowned with the effort but kept the beasts at bay.

  “Forward!”

  “Rrrragh!”

  “Forward!”

  “Rrrragh!”

  Bristling with spears, our tiny turtle kept advancing through the raging sea of Nocteans step by strenuous step.

  “Forward!”

  “Rrrragh!”

  The Kerook was very close now. I skulked behind a warrior’s broad back for fear of alerting the monster to my presence.

  Lavena must have sensed it too. She clenched her bow tight, readying herself.

  Finally the Kerook drew his attention away from his army and deigned to notice us. I could clearly see several giant Nocteans forming a gray cocoon around him to shield him. The barrage of arrows kept piercing the gray bodies of his bodyguards who silently fell to the ground only to be immediately replaced by new ones.

  Nasty little douche. Sitting there all nice and pretty.

  We were already within twenty feet from him when he finally relented and began to retreat.

  His hissing sliced through my brain like a shard of broken glass. The Calteans stopped. They couldn’t move any further, completely bogged down in the banks of mangled Noctean bodies.

  Droy was covered in blood from head to foot. “Forward!”

  “Rrrragh!”

  Straining every sinew in their bodies, the warriors took the last and probably the hardest step in their lives. The first line of tanks crouched, leaning on their spears.

  I readied myself. Lavena the Vixen tensed up next to me.

  The warriors’ powerful broad backs strained. Their shields moved in unison in a sweeping upwards motion, throwing back the Nocteans pressing against them.

  The creatures fell against the ranks of their peers standing behind them, forming a pandemonium of hairy gray bodies.

  I used the commotion to activate the summoning charm, then released all of my scarabs.

  Sorry, guys. It’ll get less crowded in a moment.

  The rest happened as if in slow motion: the angry, uncomprehending Nocteans, the retreating Calteans and five steel tanks sinking their sharp mandibles into the screaming mass of mobs.

  Boris soared up with an effortless ease. To him, two riders made no difference whatsoever.

  Lavena sat with her back pressed against mine. She drew her composite bow.

  I told Boris to circle the scene.

  “I can see him!” Lavena shouted.

  Her bowstring sang. She rapidly loosed off a flight of four arrows, following it with an unhurried fifth one. She must have taken her time for better accuracy.

  The arrows avoided the bodyguards’ bodies. They had only one target in mind.

  As if sensing the danger, the Kerook dodged left, then right, then ducked under a large column fragment.

  All five arrows missed. Lavena cussed in a most unladylike way.

  “Circle him!” she barked.

  Boris flapped his large wings and flew low over the chunk of debris where the Kerook was cowering. The little bastard actually peeked from behind it.

  Seeing us, he darted off, apparently intending to take cover in the ruins of a house — like a petrified prairie dog trying to escape a predatory eagle in the safety of its burrow.

  Boris was giving it his all. Finally, his swift shadow covered the Kerook. Behind my back, Lavena strained, drawing her powerful bow.

  The Kerook screamed, realizing he wasn’t going to make it.

  This time we wouldn’t miss him.

  “Boris, chant!” I shouted.

  His Triumphant Crow assaulted our fleeing quarry. The Kerook froze, turning into a fluffy pillar of salt.

  Five arrows pierced his body almost simultaneously. The fifth one glowed with a pale blue flame.

  It hit the little bastard right in the back of his head, shattering his skull.

  Dead.

  The system dutifully reported his death and the XP points received.

  Then something weird started happening below.

  The Nocteans seemed to be awakening from a hypnotic trance. They stopped, looking fearfully around. Some swung round and hurried to flee the battlefield; others assaulted their own.

  The well-knit Noctean pack had ceased to exist, turning into a disorganized rabble.

  “Retreat!” Droy kept shouting. “Quick! Behind the wall!”

  Now that the Nocteans had stopped attacking us, our warriors retreated in a single unbroken formation.

  Boris flew us over the wall. The next moment we stood surrounded by friends.

  The warriors cheered our arrival, slapping our backs and shaking our shoulders. I received their praise, smiling like an idiot.

  Lavena and I exchanged a hearty handshake.

  “it was a good idea telling your bird to sing,” she croaked. “For a moment, I thought he’d get away.”

  “What, from your arrows?” I laughed. “Are you kidding me? He had no chance!”

  Our celebration didn’t last.

  A single blood-curdling howl came from the direction of the hills.

  Another one echoed it. And another. And a few more.

  Not this again! What was going on?

  A sentry’s warning resounded over the city walls,

  “Werewolves! Werewolves!”

  * * *

  That was Shaggy again. Cheeky bastard. He’d waited till we went for each other’s throats before attacking us. Basically, he repeated what I’d done to him earlier.

  Just when I thought we’d won this round.

  I remembered the werewolves’ tactics well. I dreaded to even think what they would do to our craftsmen, women and children if they broke into the city.

  The two remaining scarabs had frozen in the werewolves’ path, preparing to ram them. They didn’t have much durability left — but they should buy us a little time.

  As I tried to arrange them into a defense line, Droy got busy dishing out orders.

  “Retreat! What are you looking at? Fall back behind the walls! Move it! Those on the walls, get ready for action!”

  The sergeants and captains joined in, nudging the flabbergasted warriors into an organized retreat. The mixture of blood, slush and mud underfoot hindered their progress.

  Encouraging his army non-stop, Droy approached me.

  “Don’t summon any more scarabs,” he said in a peremptory tone. “The gates are broken, whatever’s left of them. We can’t keep the werewolves out. But we can trap them. We’ll need a Brock to do that. You must go back. The youngsters won’t manage without you. I want you to keep an eye on them.”

  I nodded, not quite yet understanding his intentions. As I hurried toward the Brocks, I heard his voice again,

  “Wait for my command to fire!”

  The nearest of the Brocks was facing the gates. The runic inscriptions covering its body glowed softly, enveloping the machine in their shimmer.

  I began issuing orders. We didn’t have the time to turn the other two machines toward the gates. I just hoped one would be enough.

  The system reported the Brock’s readiness.

  My heart fluttered in my chest. I was too nervous and too afraid for the others’ lives.

  As if sensing my state, the Brock vibrated softly.

  “Rocks! Get more rocks!” Pritus was shouting at a distance.

  “The werewolves are coming! There they are!” archers shouted from the walls.

  The first Caltean warriors appeared in the gateway, retreating in organized rank and file. Lancers were running toward them, readying their weapons. Some were pushing empty carts toward the gateway hoping to barricade it for a while.

  “They’re led by Shaggy!
” the archers shouted from the walls.

  “How many of them?” warriors asked from below.

  “At least three dozen!”

  “What about the others?”

  “They’re fleeing!”

  So Shaggy must have decided to attack us in small numbers, anyway. He was apparently putting his hope in the werewolves’ strength and speed, hoping to finish us off in one fell swoop.

  “Olgerd, are you ready? Wait for my signal,” Droy shouted, then immediately addressed the others, “Shield Wall!”

  “Line up!” Badwar roared, brandishing his enormous poleaxe.

  “Rrrragh!” hundreds of throats grunted in unison.

  The warriors locked their shields. Their ranks bristled with spears. They were defending their houses, their wives and children, their parents, their brothers and sisters. They weren’t going to give one inch of their freedom to the enemy.

  “They’re at the gates!”

  The sentry’s voice was drowned out by the cacophony of blood-curdling animal cries.

  The warriors on the walls showered the enemy with arrows, darts and crossbow bolts. The first Noctean screams of pain were met with a celebration of gleaming weapons as our warriors spat curses on the enemy’s heads.

  The Brock’s giant arms swung back, preparing to launch their deadly missiles.

  Shaggy barged in first.

  He was enormous. His savage primeval rage drew everyone’s eyes to him. His body was massive but lithe. His hair was a very deep brown, almost black, with a few graying patches on his head.

  And his eyes! They glowed with triumphant fury.

  I paused momentarily, admiring this handsome beast. He stopped in the gateway for a few heartbeats, staring at his victims in proud confidence.

  Then werewolves began pouring out upon us. Not quite as big, they were just as hungry and desperate.

  Roaring, they barged toward our shield wall, disregarding the bristling spears. Studded with lances and arrows and awash with their own scarlet-red blood, they ignored their mortal wounds, throwing themselves into the battle.

  In one lightning-fast leap, Shaggy overtook his avant-garde, taking the lead. They were about to crash into our shield wall.

  Droy’s voice reached me through the thick fog of congealed time,

  “Olgerd! Now!”

  The Brock’s long arms jerked into motion.

  Bang!

  With every fiber of my body, I sensed the lethal flight of the death-bearing rocks.

  Bang! The other arm went off.

  Droy’s calculations had been right on target. By the time the Brock fired, virtually all of the pack had already crowded inside the gateway.

  Two split seconds later — the time the Brock had needed to fire its missiles — the werewolves had ceased to exist. The barrage of stones had literally ground them into a pulp. Their still-twitching bodies were immediately studded with arrows.

  This was a clear victory.

  I was close to insanity as I watched the gory nightmare. Now more then ever I wished I could press the Logout button long and hard.

  I shook my head. I needed to get a grip.

  Rubbing my eyes, I tried to concentrate on the work at hand. God knew I had plenty of things to do.

  Puffing with pride, Droy supervised the gates’ restoration. We exchanged glances, then nodded simultaneously to each other.

  Life was moving on. If only we could build a wall like the one around the citadel! Complete with steel gates at least fifteen feet wide.

  Yeah, right. Dream on. It was time for me to get down to earth and get working.

  Still, I could use a brief break. Nothing wrong with catching a few Zs. My mental state would thank me for it.

  As I walked toward Droy’s tent, I had to go past a dilapidated shed. I was too busy contemplating my warm bed to notice something which was definitely out of place there. I had to double-check — and once I had, I stopped dead in my tracks.

  The shed had a door. But not just any old door, either. It was white and made of plastic. Nothing unusual about it.

  Just a standard office door.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I STARED AT THIS real-world object, amazed at my own hesitation. I must have really settled into my role if the sight of a humble piece of plastic could give me a culture shock.

  Normal, if you think about it. Anyone would freak out seeing a nice clean office door amid a bloodied medieval battlefield.

  My Caltean friends, however, didn’t seem to notice it at all as they walked right past it.

  Olgerd, Olgerd. Why would they? Come on, put your brain in gear already! This door is for you. Just pull the flippin’ handle. The Mirror World bosses must have something to tell you.

  I walked over to it.

  Aha. The number on the door looked familiar.

  That’s right. The same old number 1 glistened on the dark-blue sign.

  I gave the door a light push, already knowing what I was going to see inside.

  The room hadn’t changed. The same dark gray filing cabinets. The boxfuls of papers. The printer. The black computer screen. Vinyl windows.

  I stepped toward the window, curious to see what was behind it.

  This time it was a seaside resort. The golden beach was packed with sunbathing holidaymakers. Colored beach umbrellas cast patches of shadow onto the sand.

  Water bikes sliced through the azure waves. Further on, boats large and small rocked on the waves.

  The waters by the shore seethed with people swimming, diving, splashing and enjoying the sun.

  I gulped. I’d have loved to join them!

  The door opened behind me. I forced my eyes from the window and turned around.

  A man stood before me. His closely cropped hair was snow white even though he wasn’t at all old. Clean shaven, with a firm chin and intelligent eyes. About forty-five, maybe. He was at least six foot tall, with broad shoulders and an air of military bearing about him.

  His sharp gaze studied me. “Sir Olgerd, it’s nice to see you here, Sir,” he finally said. “You can call me Sergei Sergeevich. It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”

  “It is, for some,” I nodded at the window. “Not for me, I’m afraid.”

  He ignored my words. “Please take a seat,” he nodded at a black office chair, then sat down himself.

  Rattling my armor, I followed suit.

  “Sit Olgerd, I’d like to move straight to the point. First of all, I need to tell you that our team is absolutely thrilled with your progress. For somebody with no physical training or prepping skills required by these kinds of survival games, you’ve done admirably, much to everybody’s surprise.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Honestly, I didn’t expect this kind of praise. I thought you were going to tell me off.”

  He stared at me, uncomprehending.

  But now my inner dam had burst. I couldn’t hold anything inside for much longer. “What I mean is this weird situation around this obelisk. I know we had an agreement. I would find the city and activate the crystal, and you would fund my daughter’s surgery. In actual fact, I kept my word in almost everything. I’ve found both: the city and the obelisk. Now I’m busting my guts trying to defend it. But if this is about my refusal to perform a mass sacrifice, sorry, I can’t do that. I’m not that kind of person. This wasn’t in the agreement. I know they’re computer characters, but I’m not! I can’t just kill two thousand women, children and old people! For me, they’re real. They’re my friends. They trust me. And in any case, it’s not as if I’m late with my loan repayments. Also, I’m giving you some good publicity. The clans’ armies are already on their way. You can’t complain, really. What with the war and everything...” I minced the last words.

  The man listened to me impassively without attempting to interrupt me. Once I’d finished, he leaned back in his chair and locked his fingers.

  “So you don’t know anything yet, do you?” he asked.

  My heart missed a beat. “P
ardon me?”

  “The thing is, the people you had an agreement with don’t work here anymore.”

  “What do you mean they don’t work here anymore? I thought that girl... that lady, Vicky, I thought she worked for you?”

  “She most surely did. She doesn’t anymore. Nor do her superiors. If I can be completely honest with you, the entire Mirror World administration as you know it has ceased to exist.”

  “Wait a sec... and the bank...”

  “Oh, no, no, no, you misunderstood me. Reflex Bank is still active and in perfectly good shape. It’s changed hands, that’s all.”

  I emitted a nervous chuckle. “But what about...”

  “Don’t worry about your loan. Your agreement is still in force. You made it with Reflex Bank, didn’t you? Is that correct?”

  Thank God. “Perfectly correct,” I said. “But if you don’t mind me asking... who’s controlling the company now?”

  “You don’t need to know that. I can only say that the old administration’s attempt to cash in by activating a new game plan was the reason for the urgent transferal of the controlling block of shares to us. I can tell you more: it was entirely thanks to you that their little scheme failed to succeed.”

  “Can you explain?”

  “Sure. Their analysts had badly misinterpreted your psychological profile. They made sure you had enough NPCS in order to perform the ritual. One thing they didn’t anticipate was that you might refuse to do it. That created a minor delay which proved critical for us. You bought us the time we needed. We really appreciate that.”

  He stood up and proffered his hand. “It’s been nice meeting you. Don’t worry about the loan. Just keep paying it off. I hope it’s not for much longer. Your body is perfectly safe in the module center. Also, as a sign of our appreciation, we’ve arranged for a very decent discount for you on all our services for the duration of one year. Your brother is still working for us, by the way. He might get promoted soon. I don’t think I’ll see you again, unfortunately. Have a nice day.”

  He opened the door, about to leave.

  “Wait a sec,” I finally got my wits together. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  He turned back to me. “You’re a free man now. Apart from your loan, you have no obligations to Reflex Bank whatsoever. Enjoy the game.”