Endless Online: Oblivion's Price: A LitRPG Adventure - Book 3

by M. H. Johnson

  Val swallowed, gazing breathlessly at his father. "You're not going to tell me..."

  His father nodded. "It was you, Val. And the look on Andrey's face when he showed me video clips of a boy emerging from that horrid cocoon of burnt flesh. Looking so very much like my son of half a decade ago... but different." He sighed sadly. "Your features are perfectly symmetrical, your eyes an almost crystalline shade of blue. You're an inch taller than my son was, and you move just like him. You could pass for his brother, actually, but the doctors did more tests than you would believe. We are related, Val, but a bit less than a father and son should be. And I'm okay with that bizarre twist, but it gets wilder. Some of those genes floating around in your body aren't exactly human. Hell, they aren't even in our genetic database. For all intents and purposes? They're alien." He shook his head. "I wish we had your mother's genetic ID on record, but she refused to ever give blood for those purposes, calling it the ultimate invasion of privacy."

  Breathless silence. "But how's that even possible? Are you saying I'm not even human?" Val squeezed exhausted eyes tightly shut. "That I'm not part of our... of your family?"

  He trembled at his father's unexpected touch, a powerful hand patting his shoulder. "No, Val. I'm not saying that. You may not be exactly the same boy that sacrificed everything to save a girl he hardly knew, but you're mostly him, Val. And that makes you mostly my son, and that's good enough for me."

  The hug was completely unexpected. Val hissed and tensed, then squeezed his father back, refusing to acknowledge the hot prickling in his eyes as tears. "Thanks, dad. I... god, I can't tell you how much I wanted to hear that."

  His father's eyes were also shining with unshed tears. He just stepped back and smiled. "I was expecting, hoping, I don't know what, when Andrey gave me word of the sudden power outage at the hospital, that your room was a bit the worse for wear and you had gone missing, and those complete idiots who call themselves doctors didn't have a clue as to what was going on." He sighed. "I had hoped, but after seeing that cocoon, harder than a rock and thank goodness we could still give you intravenous nutrients... I didn't know what to expect. It took a lot of clout and discreet contributions to keep you from being carted away as a medical curiosity, not even considered a person by some of those bastards. The alarm they tried to raise, as if you were a monster of some kind..." He swallowed and looked away.

  Val nodded. "So of course you were ready to greet me, should I manage to come home. And of course, just in case..."

  His father grimaced.

  "No, don't feel bad, dad. You'd never shoot me, I know. But you had to make sure that it was really me. Not some monster, wearing my face."

  His father flashed a rueful smile. "I have a pretty good feel for people as well, Val, even if you and your siblings always had me trumped, there. The boy I'm talking to right now moves, thinks, and acts just like the Val I know and love, and maybe there is an odd silver lining in all this, because I get to see you healthy, burn free, pain free, and free of that awful bitterness that had been sucking all the joy and happiness you should have allowed yourself to feel." He patted Val's shoulder. "And I've never seen you looking quite this fit, and I know you never slacked off while you were serving."

  Val smiled and nodded. "I don't know about the genes thing. Maybe the burns you had mentioned were from radiation that had somehow mutated me? Anyway, no one's more amazed at how I look, or how I feel, than me. But most of all, dad, it's good to be home."

  His father made him another sandwich, and they allowed the conversation to flow to gentler topics, Val feeling incredibly lucky and happy even to have the opportunity to chat with his father like this, when it had been so long.

  He cracked a yawn he could no longer hold back, his father gazing at him sympathetically. "Why don't you shower and change into something comfortable, Val. Your room is just the way you left it."

  Val smiled, filled with warmth and love for the man before him.

  "Oh, and Val?"

  "Yes, dad?"

  "Welcome home."

  5

  The quiet knock on his bedroom door jolted Val out of nightmare.

  "Val? Are you awake? Breakfast is on."

  Val blinked, breath still ragged from the flood of dreams that had torn through him that night, flashes of mercenaries, gnomish sidekicks, beautiful sword wielding princesses and roguish captains, all of them screaming in panic as a hideous explosion rocked through local space, sending their sleek spaceship crashing into the middle of a vast desert. How strange it had been, feeling almost as if he were sitting alongside them, gripping his seat in the same tight panic they were, faces filled with the terror of death as their stomachs dropped and their ship shook so hard it seemed on the verge of tearing itself apart, the captain cursing as he used every trick in the book to level their death spiral into a controlled crash landing, and with their final panicked screams—these were his friends! They were supposed to be safe!—Val woke up the instant everything turned black.

  Fuck!

  Val took a deep, shuddering breath, letting those final waves of disbelief and horror fade with the morning light, quickly fading as all nightmares did, just figments of his imagination, pulled from space-age adventure stories he used to watch with his family what now seemed a lifetime ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

  "Val? Are you awake, son?"

  Val couldn't stop the grin brightening his face even if he tried, catching sight of his own reflection in the full-length mirror by his walk-in closet, and how strange it was to see himself looking so young, as if he were a high school senior getting ready for class.

  His dad had called him son.

  It was already the perfect day.

  "Yeah, dad, I'll be right down." He smirked at his own ebullience. He was acting nothing like a man who had been fighting for his life just hours before. A desperate nightmare that had started with him waking up disoriented and confused, being throttled by a goddamned maniac, on the run with no idea who was friend and foe and feeling utterly alone, and how desperately he had hoped that his father would recognize him. Would accept him. And he had prayed so many times since he had returned from duty a burnt, scarred wreck for a chance to start over. And by some miracle, he had gotten his wish. Both of them.

  Who gave a damn about a few nightmares? He was home. Feeling hale, hearty, and utterly free of pain, with a chance to start over and a father who loved him.

  He wouldn't ruin the moment by being a brooding piece of crap. He would embrace this second chance, for as long as it lasted, and be the son his father had always wanted.

  He couldn't help smiling stupidly at the reflection gazing back at him as he picked his standard clothes from not that many years ago, blue jeans and a polo shirt. He smirked at his reflection. "Time for you to get some new clothes, Val. You're not seventeen, even if you look it." If nothing else, the shirt was so tight on his chest and arms that he was afraid he'd rip it if he wasn't careful.

  His father gazed up from his own breakfast when Val made his way to the kitchen, serious expression breaking into the warmest of smiles. "You look just like you did in your senior year, if a bit more filled out. We need to get you a new wardrobe, son."

  Val couldn't help grinning at those words.

  "Are you in any sort of pain at all, Val? Did you have any trouble waking up? How is your walking? You told me you had to do a lot of running, last night."

  "I'm fine, dad," Val assured. "Started off as a nightmare, of course, waking up to some bastard trying to throttle me and having a one-on-one with the local don at gunpoint, but other than that, it's a fucking miracle. I've never felt stronger, and my legs are completely free of pain. If anything, I'm itching for a good workout to maintain my Intense Conditioning benefits."

  His father frowned.

  Val winced. "Sorry, dad. I forgot about the profanity."

  His father waved that away. "What's this about 'intense conditioning?'.

  Val blinked, suddenly confused. "I don'
t know... I guess I just want to stay in shape?"

  His father chuckled softly. "No problems there, son. We have the weight room in the basement. You and your friends used to train there when you weren't practicing your classical fencing."

  Val smirked. "It was HEMA, dad. Longswords and Sabers. I always thought of classical fencing as guys practicing with smallswords and transitional rapiers who at least had the sense to use historical manuals, knowing that it wasn't just a game of laser tag, which is all that modern sport fencing is."

  His father smiled. "Actually, many HEMA practitioners now consider themselves classical fencers. They're taking the terms back from sport fencing which they, like you, think has diverged so far from its origins that it no longer deserves the term. I believe a few of your old friends are trying to get it registered as an Olympic sport."

  Val grinned. "Fantastic! But if we're not careful, it might get codified so badly that people end up training just to score points with bullshit taps, as opposed to actually fighting in earnest and really learning the techniques."

  "Actually, your friend Alex made it clear that edge alignment, afterblows, and cutting competitions would all be a part of it, if he had anything to say about it."

  Val nodded. "That sounds like the Alex I know. How is he?"

  His father grinned. "Finished his bachelor's in business and is interning at our company. If he has the head for it, I'll make sure he has a free ride on his MBA."

  "Dad, that's really generous of you."

  "What can I say? He's a sharp kid, and he has a fighter's instincts. Now if I can nurture any kind of eye for real estate, then we'll get somewhere. Administration's fine, but we need engineers for the main thrust of our business. You know real estate was a sideline to diversify our revenue into, but these last few years it's been growing hand over fist."

  Val smiled. "So you took him under your wing, and when you're off appraising and teaching him the ropes, he's been instructing you on the ins and outs of HEMA."

  "More or less. And don't give me that look. Sure, he's your friend. I would have helped his family out if he was in a lurch, but I wouldn't be taking such an interest if he didn't have a real head for this. Our department is more geared to nurturing programmers and engineers from cutting-edge universities. Real estate was more an informal hobby I used to lock in value that's turned damned profitable, and right now? Alex's eye is almost as sharp as mine. My other protegees just see charts and numbers and are far more interested in the next government contract and earning the most generous bonuses in the business, if their brainchildren can snag us those contracts."

  Val nodded. "How does that law go? The square root of your employees generates half your revenue?"

  "Close enough, son. Close enough. Most people in any business just want to go with the flow and not mess up and get fired. That's not the spirit I try and foster, but as long as the slackers know their days are numbered, I don't try to change human nature. I just try to foster the sharpest and brightest to work their asses off for our company, and they know their team might be bringing home a major bonus, if Uncle Sam likes what we bring to the table."

  "So you're grooming Alex to be the linchpin of your new real estate division?"

  His father nodded. "He's already proven the worth of his character, he was a good friend to you for years. And I know he'll be a good teacher, having helped to run and teach HEMA classes since he started college. We'll see if he has the chops for formally managing the department down the road."

  Val grinned. "Sounds like a good plan to me, dad."

  His father waved to the table. "Don't let your crepes get cold, son."

  Val needed no further invitation, quickly digging in and savoring the meal, washing it all down with freshly squeezed orange juice while his father casually filled him in on the local happenings in the community, just like he used to, and in some strange way Val could almost imagine the last handful of years as the lingering fragments of a dream he had just woken from.

  "I did have one question before we get going, Val."

  Val blinked. "Where are we going, dad?"

  His father smiled. "I thought we might swing by the Petrovskys. You endured so much for the sake of their daughter, and I know Julia would love to see you in person."

  Val flushed, feeling strangely awkward. "That's why I went undercover. I sort of remember that, now. Hell, I almost recall her screams haunting my dreams last night." He shook his head. "It's all still so damn blurry. But if she's okay, then I'm grateful for the happy ending, even if I had nothing to do with it."

  Val's father shrugged, eyes peering intently into Val's own. "Who can say, son? Near two hundred rescued, and you, much the worse for wear, discovered on the scene. Why were you alone so badly burned and how did you manage to recover? We still have no idea. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, it's best that everyone else thinks you're still missing. You do understand, right Val?"

  Val swallowed and nodded. A man had tried to kill him, after all, and he could only hope the don of that area would come through with a name. As much as Val would love to lose himself to sweet, peaceful domesticity for at least a time, he had to make sure no one was aiming a scope at his back.

  "Good. That means not even Alex or your old gaming friends can know you're back. Andrey was there when we recovered Julia, and you. He and his wife also helped make sure you got the best treatment possible." His father frowned, breaking eye contact. Strangely, he looked the one suddenly out of sorts. "Val, I took a risk, and I apologize for that."

  Val blinked. "What do you mean, dad?"

  His father sighed, shaking his head. "Just that chance that you might make it, hideously burned as you were, still fighting for life, even before I realized you were you, before I was shaken to find how much you weren't, well, you... I wanted to somehow make things right. As if I could somehow make up for all that had happened to you, if I could help that poor kid burned to a crisp."

  Val blinked. "What did you do?"

  "We've made some amazing headway in the field of regenerative therapy, as you can tell just from this article here. But most of the techniques are still in the pretesting phases. Let's just say I wanted to give that poor dying kid every chance I could at life."

  Val felt a cold shiver as it all clicked into place. "You gave me experimental regeneratives, is that it? You knew there was a risk, but if it worked..." He gazed carefully into his father's haunted eyes, understanding the burden his father must have felt, feeling both furious at having been an unwitting guinea pig, and grateful. Lab rat or no, the treatment had been a complete success.

  His expression softened into a forgiving smile. This was his father, after all. One of the very few people in the world who truly cared for him, the only one Val had dared risk revealing himself to, and he had welcomed Val back with a father's love. "Let's not worry about what-ifs, dad. It worked, and now I can live life free of the horrible pain that had plagued me for all those months. How can I not be grateful?"

  "I still gambled with your life, Val," his father said. "I could tell you that the doctors only gave that boy a twenty percent chance of making it, and even then his life would be one trapped in darkness, unable to see or speak, in constant, unending pain. Living hell, if you will. Then Andrey let me know that his wife Christine, a brilliant geneticist, was offering to help. I could tell you that if the treatment was successful, it would open the doors to funding in the hundreds of millions that could save tens of thousands of wounded warriors and civilians from constant pain and crippling injuries, backdooring a corrupt bureaucracy that has lately been doing all it can to stonewall any sort of medical progress for reasons I can't even fathom."

  His father shook his head, gaze heavy with regret. "But the price for Christine's help was absolute confidentiality, implying that she needed more time to perfect her techniques before she dared go public, and that the only reason why she was willing to risk her license with such untried procedures was for your sake, and your sa
ke alone. The bottom line is, we took a terrible gamble. And I am touched and grateful beyond words to know that the regenerative treatments worked, even as I feel the weight of knowing that I had gambled with your life, in the hopes of giving you a life worth living. And for taking such a risk, Val, I am truly sorry."

  Val didn't hesitate, getting up and wrapping his father in a fierce hug. "I'm alive, pain free, and have never felt stronger. Knock on wood that this doesn't cause some sort of horrid cancer ten years from now, I couldn't be more grateful to you than I am now." He chuckled softly. "And even if the fates are so cruel as to curse your blessing with tumors and such, even then, dad, don't you dare feel guilty for a moment.

  "To be able to enjoy just one day feeling as good as I do now, like my whole life is ahead of me and I can truly start over, is priceless. The thought of waking up after surviving all I did just to be covered in burns so hideous my entire body is throbbing like my legs used to..." Val shuddered, truly sickened. "That would be a living hell, and considering how the government now treats the need for pain medicine as if it were almost criminal, whatever hospital I was admitted to would probably let me suffer, endlessly, looking spotless before the law even as I silently screamed in endless torment fit to do any devil proud."

  Val clenched his fist tight. "Don't think for even a second that I wouldn't face anything but that. The gift you and Christine have given me? Is the greatest blessing I could have asked for." Val grinned. "Even if it did somehow mutate me and give me the oddest genes. Is that how it works? Is the serum a high tech virus injecting synthetic regenerative genes into all of my cells? Is it a trait I can pass on?"

  His father smiled, looking as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you, son. Your words mean more to me than you know. To the best of my understanding, however, splicing in alien genes is not how the serum works. That sounds light years ahead of medical science, even now. But if they're keeping secrets even from me..." His father shrugged. "I'll forgive them this once, and pray that cancer is not the eventual price you'll pay for your blessing."