by Tao Wong
I choose the latter of course. It all takes less than the blink of an eye, knowledge understood and decision made. The Skill manifests as a cylinder of pure energy, a column of destruction which burns and tears as it strikes. The drakes scream, thrashing as the Mana rages, while I channel a firestorm.
When the Beacon is over, the drakes are only just beginning to recover from the surprise attack before the firestorm lands, sweeping them up again in further hellish flame. Fast as I am though, a pair of drakes disappear into the Astral Plane.
I snarl, Blink Stepping into the center of the cavern, appearing on the shredded wing of one miserable, semi-conscious drake. I feel the space around me then shut it down, locking everything into place with the Quantum Lock Skill. The strain on my mind is incredible. The necessity of understanding and holding every single aspect of reality together is almost enough to make me buckle. Almost.
The pair that escaped are forced back by my Skill, reappearing in meat space halfway toward my ex-hiding spot. But I’m busy, chopping at the neck of the nearest drake, cutting into its burnt and dried flesh, blood dribbling out from the wounds and hissing in the volcanic heat of the cave. I spin, savaging its neck and moving within the periphery of its body, allowing the injured drake to block the attacks of the others. I grunt, staring at my dropping Mana bar.
I need to finish this. Fast. With a grin, I call upon the Vanguard of the Apocalypse. Immediately, I feel my attributes increase, my strength and speed growing even as I see each movement of my attackers even clearer. I can sense where attacks are going, almost chart each movement, as my sword appears in one hand and a beam pistol in the other.
The injured and enraged drakes, too angry to run and forced to fight in the cramped quarters of their cavern, are no match for me. I jump, run, and spin, cutting and stabbing with one hand and blasting with the other. It’s a dance through the dark, the cavern fitfully lit by the remaining flames from my previous attacks, the walls and floor of the cavern the canvas for my painting of blood and violence.
When it’s over, I’m left panting and on my knees, my Stamina drained, my Mana the barest sliver left. But I’m grinning. Because for all the pain and sorrow this world has brought, it’s also brought an understanding which I would never have received in the previous world. Among the winds of the apocalypse, I have found my place.
I use a full hour to test myself, pushing my body and my new Skills to the limit. For all my bitching at Ali, he’s right. The only way to improve is to push the boundaries, to test myself. Not with a single drake or two, but with a flight. To push and push until all there is is blood and pain, because it’s at the limits where you find yourself.
But as much as I might wish to train, to indulge my penchant for violence, the dawn comes. Time and responsibility grind inexorably onward, ignoring the needs and desires of pitiful mortals. After I pack up the Mountain Giant’s corpse, I look around the snow-covered land one last time then gesture, opening a Portal back to civilization and responsibility. Time to go.
Chapter 16
I Portal in, not back to my office but just off Granville Street in downtown Vancouver. The once-vibrant main street has become so again, shedding its mixture of hipster bars and sex stores for a more eclectic mixture of stores. Gyms cluster on the top floors, training grounds for those looking to brush up the edges of their skills. Everything is taught, from human martial arts to newer Galactic combat forms that focus on the development and integration of Skills. Below, retailers hawk their System-integrated wares, offering anything from monster-hide leather armor to combat and utility drones. I see a Potioneer flashing passersby as he hawks his wares from within his trench coat while a Busker plays for an appreciative audience of people who tip and wait for the buffs to take effect.
The street bustles with life, both Galactic and human. A small metallic ball rolls alongside a towering Yerrick, his green-skinned Hakarta date leaning into his arm with a smile and eye-popping cleavage. In a clothing store, a mother smacks her child’s hand, casually disarming him and taking away a newly bought survival knife. All around, Adventurers bustle and get ready for their next great expedition while others run their mundane routines, buying groceries and clothing, offering Skills and skills.
“Quite a difference, eh?” Ali says, walking beside me with a slight smile.
I cock my head to the side, considering his tone. I’m surprised to hear pride. Huh. Who’d have thought?
“WE HAVE SEEN A 14.3% INCREASE IN ANNUALIZED GDP IN THE LAST MONTH.”
“Nice…” I have nothing to say to Kim’s statement. It’s not as if I really understand what it means, beyond the obvious signs before me.
“Why’d we Portal back here, boy-o? Not that I mind getting out of the office, but…”
“Skill training,” I say. A moment of focus and Society’s Web activates. All around me, glowing threads erupt, stunning me for a second. There’s so many, in such a wide variety of colors and sizes, it looks like a knitter’s stash after a barrel of kittens and a tornado had been let loose.
“Oy! I’m walking here,” Ali roars as he is nearly squished by a landing hover taxi.
My little brown man gets into a spirited argument with the driver while I stand stock still, taking in the new view. I admit, I struggle as I attempt to grasp the intricacies of my new Skill. The Skill is strange, with some individuals bursting with threads, some so thin they’re no larger than a spider’s web and others as wide as a door. The child has few threads, her thickest to her mother and a few other large ones spreading out of sight. All but one other—a thin, light grey thread which runs from her to me.
I look down and realize tens of thousands of these grey threads lead to my body. They overlap with other, brighter-colored threads that lead to me, but thankfully, when I concentrate, the grey threads become more prominent, pushing the colored threads to the background. Some of the grey threads are as thin as the child’s, others as thick as my wrist. With a shift in perception, I push away all the grey threads and focus on the others. I frown, focusing on a dark-red-and-green beam of light about three inches thick which moves toward the northeast.
Lana Pearson
Love, lust, debt, gratitude, jealousy, guilt, joy, confidence, pain…
I see, I sense the words, the emotions which I hold for her and her for me. I sense the long string of obligations incurred and the aid she has given me over the years, the unspoken social contract we’ve indulged in. Love, lust, guilt, and hurt. Favors traded, time employed. Kisses given and tears shed. It all comes to me, the weight and depth of our connection, stunning me as I realize something.
Thousand hells.
I’m an ass.
The thought is enough to pull me away from her beam of light, for me to regard my body. I cock my head to the side, one particular shiny black thread catching my attention. There’s a darkness to it that draws me close, forces me to focus.
Un Bair
Contract. Obligation. Death.
I shudder, feeling the coldness that radiates from the thread, and look to the side. My eyes widen, seeing the thread disappear into nothingness a bare foot away.
Then a pair of knives plunge into my chest, stealing my breath.
You are Poisoned!
47 Health per second
Duration: 8 Minutes, 9 Seconds
You are Poisoned!
Mana and Health Regeneration reduced by 18%
Duration: 11 Minutes, 12 Seconds
Dimension Locked
All movement skills which require teleportation are blocked
Mana Lock
Mana flow in your body has been disrupted. You are stunned for 3.8 seconds (resisted)
I stagger backward even as the daggers come out and plunge toward me again. The second attack hammers into the Greater Shield I trigger from the enchanted ring with a mental command, an act I can still take. It buys me a second as the blades skim and shatter the Shield before they pierce my chest again. The Poison notifications flas
h on my interface, resetting the clock as even more of the poison floods my system. Pain erupts through my body as my nerves finally catch up, even as the daggers are taken out again, flipped overhand, and plunged into the ball sockets of my shoulders. I scream as much as I’m able to, muscles locked as the Skill keeps me frozen.
Crippled!
You have received a crippling blow. You will not be able to use your arms until you are healed.
Three seconds might seem like a blink, but in a fight, it’s an eternity. As the blades rise again, his hands crossing as he moves to behead me, I feel a hand yank me away. Too slow to avoid the attack entirely though. The blades cross across my neck, leaving me gurgling on my blood.
Bleeding!
You have received a bleeding debuff. You will lose health so long as the wounds are not treated.
-3 Health per second
Warning! Health below 15%
“Oy!” Ali shouts as he pulls me away with one hand while he thrusts forward with the other.
The assassin doesn’t hesitate, a dagger punching toward Ali’s glowing red hand is wrapped with bolts of lightning. The attack lands, forcing the Spirit to lose control of the spell. The ensuing explosion of raw plasma released into air throws all of us apart.
My body tumbles, crashing into a pair of passersby. I try to push myself up, but my arms aren’t working and I uselessly flop to the side as I scramble to my feet. A hand grips my shoulder, hauling me to my feet while a green light bursts upon my body, healing wounds. I blink, tilting my head to see the mother with her child held behind her, bleeding from a head wound but focused on healing me.
“Come on there, no lying down on the job.” The rough hands which grip me belong to an older Adventurer, his face cragged and lined, his vest filled with potions of healing and stamina.
A part of me is trying to figure out why these people would risk their lives to help me, to step up when it’d be easier to hide. The other is scanning the surroundings, searching for signs of the assassin. I see nothing, not that I did before.
“Ali?”
“Son-of-a-Gremlin! Youch!”
“Master Class?”
“Definitely.”
I snarl, staring around me, waiting. But no matter where I look, how I look, I can’t see him. It’s obvious his stealth Skill is stronger than mine, even as I layer Soul Shield on myself.
Quantum Lock released.
I exhale harshly then Blink Step directly upward. A moment later, I’ve ascertained his thread leads off into the distance, fading away in the horizon. I briefly consider going after him as I fall to the ground, triggering my Flight spell to land lightly. I absently note the healing light has cut off, probably shaken by my abrupt motions. Better not follow him. If he’s as good as I think, I’ll be walking into a trap.
“Anyone hurt?” I say, looking around.
The older man stares at me as blood drips from my numerous wounds. The pain is pushed to the back of my mind, a part of me but not hampering my motions. The mother ignores my silly words, again bathing me in healing spell after healing spell. I incline my head in thanks while casting a Major Healing on myself too, pushing my health up to a quarter and giving me some movement in my arms.
“Other than me,” I clarify.
But I can see the answer is no. The violence, abrupt and explosive as it was, is taken in stride by many. Already, the hole in the ground is being patched by the System. Many others are brushing off their clothing, casting healing or cleanse spells or waiting for the System’s regeneration to fix them. It’s frightening how even the “civilian” population of my city has such a blasé attitude toward violence. Only a few glance at me curiously, and I can’t even say if it’s because I’m their technical settlement leader or the target of the attack.
“Thank you. Both of you,” I say.
My words get shrugs and muttered words of acceptance before they leave. I try to press Credits, gifts on them, but the pair refuses. As the mother guides her daughter away, I see the child look back and flash me a comforting smile. It’s a bit of a thunderbolt, that smile, one which pierces through the self-delusion I’ve created.
The lonely hero, perched above the throngs of humanity, their guardian and savior. The all-seeing protector is such a common depiction even I had taken it for truth. I’ve molded myself around the image, pursued the idea as if it were a truth I needed to grasp. I set myself apart from the members of the society that I wanted to protect. And only now do I realize what a lie it was. Because you can’t protect what you can’t understand, and you can’t understand without taking the time to know. And being above it all doesn’t just give you perspective; it makes you miss the details. In the end, it’s the details that are important.
The child who can smile after a moment of scary violence. A mother who will step forward to protect others even while her child stands by her side. The couple fighting and making up, their passion burning so bright it makes others mock them silently in jealousy. The daughter crying over the loss of her parents. The politician turning down a bribe. The good and bad which make up who we are.
Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten this, missed it because I was too busy playing the cool, aloft hero. And only now do I understand. They don’t need another remote hero, a lord who oversees them all and gives nothing but cold reassurance. These people, they need someone who cares about them, day in and day out.
“You called?” Lana says, finding me in the most guarded place in the city a minute later.
“Yes. Give me your hand.”
Lana frowns, walking toward me and cocking her head to the side. I take her hand and place it on the core, stopping the automatic jerk the Beastmistress makes when I do so.
“What are you doing?”
“What I should have done from the start,” I say and release her hand once the notification appears. Luckily, I turned off the global notification option. Otherwise, everyone in all the settlements would be getting this warning.
“John…”
“You’re the right person for this. Always have been,” I say softly. “I was being greedy and selfish. And perhaps a little scared.”
“I’ll take the first two, but the last?” Lana says, her voice forcibly light. But I note she doesn’t move her hand away from the City Core.
“Scared that I couldn’t trust you. Or anyone else.” I sigh. “Scared that somehow, if I didn’t do it, no one else could. That I’d be giving up control to another person who would make a mistake. But it’s stupid, isn’t it? Because you’ve been in charge this entire time anyway. So… sorry.”
Lana nods then she opens her mouth and says slowly, “John, this gift…”
“Has nothing to do with us. The us that… well, you know. And it’s no gift. Shackles maybe,” I say, my lips twisting wryly. “You’ve earned it either way.”
“Oh. Real nice.”
You have lost your settlement of Vancouver voluntarily. Would you like to transfer all owned settlements to Lana Pearson?
(Y/N)
Of course. In for a penny, in for a pound. While I’m confirming, double confirming, and then triple confirming that yes, I really, really wanted to do this, Lana goes over her own notifications.
“Why am I only now receiving a report that there was an assassination attempt in the middle of Granville Street?” Lana’s voice has an edge to it, and I wince.
“Would you believe I forgot to mention it?” I say, giving her my best wide-eyed look of innocence.
“Am I being put out as bait?”
“What? No!” I glare at the woman, my hands on my hips.
The redhead breaks into a little giggle at the sight of my face. “Sorry. I shouldn’t even have asked. But it was too good an opportunity not to.”
“Truth be told, I think they’ve been waiting for boy-o.” When we look over at the Spirit, he continues. “Kim and I have been going over footage from various security cameras, searching for his attacker. At best, I’d say he’s been arou
nd for just over four days. But since boy-o either Portals himself to wherever he needs to go or directly to the heavily guarded teleportation station…”
“No opportunities.” I say, frowning. It makes sense. My office is significantly reinforced against assassins, including multiple shields, sensors, and even a teleportation circle which has been triple reinforced. Heck, the entire City Center building has a security system. Even if my assassin managed to kill me there, getting away might be significantly more difficult. “Why’d he run?”
“Probably didn’t expect me or other people to aid you. He probably expected to get you on the first pass,” Ali says. “Assassins gear their Skills toward a quick attack, doing enough damage to kill in one strike. Once you survived his first pass, he probably figured it was time to go. He probably didn’t realize you’d picked up a number of damage reduction Skills on top of your health pool.”
I nod slowly, deciding to accept the explanation for now. It sounds a little shallow, but since I have no other suggestions or evidence to prove otherwise, I can’t argue.
“Am I going to have to worry about this?” Lana says, concern tinging her voice. Not as though she hasn’t already been targeted, but there’s a difference between an Advanced Class assassin and a Master Class one.
“Possibly,” I say. “Your pets should provide significant protection, but you might want to consider letting your bodyguards know. And upgrading your defensive enchantments.”
“Do you know who hired him?”
I shrug. I have a few guesses, the Movana being highest on my list. They have, after all, the greatest motivation to ensure I don’t succeed. The name I had noticed drew a blank from the System. It likely had been altered by a Skill. Ali wasn’t able to get any further information from the System either. Even the attack designations we were provided just had a series of question marks for personally identifiable information. In the end, the reason you hire a damn assassin is to stay hidden.