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 Book 1 - Memories; Commencement - A Man and His Box

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    2 Years From Now

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    A lot of people were in the room, but only three were important at the moment. Two men and a woman were illuminated enough to stand out. The dark-skinned man was heavyset and preferred to stand. Both hands were clasped over an extended belly, and his cheeks jiggled when he spoke.

    The other male was on the ground, shivering with his head in the woman''s lap. Every few seconds, he would jerk, then flicker in and out of existence. Each time, his eyes wildly searched back and forth, as if staring at something invisible to the others.

    "These thoughts aren''t his. They don''t even have names." She spoke sharp, crisp words while staring at a dozen marble-sized balls sitting to the side and glittering with an inner light.

    "Names are unimportant. These are only a neutral place to start," the heavyset man said. His words were slow and carefully chosen. "Something safe, to anchor all the other moments upon."

    "Whose memories are they?" she asked while running a hand over the man''s head. He shivered and faded in and out just a little.

    "They are observations of the world outside, of our creation story. Does this interest you?" The heavyset fellow lifted one arm from his belly and waved at the pile of tiny orbs. There was a smile on the black man''s face whenever he asked a question.

    "Only if it will help." She managed not to wince as the shivering man dug his nails into her forearm.

    "I believe it will. We''ll start with this, then move forward one memory at a time." The black man slowly walked over to the pile of orbs and looked down at them. A frown crossed his lips as the shivering body on the floor shattered into tiny pieces. The woman held her breath and waited. Soon the pieces that had shattered rebuilt and the man on the floor was whole once more. Still shivering, still staring off into the distance.

    "He''s suffered so much," she said.

    "There are bright spots," the standing man responded. "He has demonstrated more than sadness during his time with us."

    "Are you sure these will help?" she asked.

    "Yes. Do you trust me?" the black man responded.

    "No. He trusted you. Look where that got him." Her eyes held a mix of anger and sadness, but none of the emotional instability made it through to her body language. Unless one looked in her eyes, she simply looked like a woman caring for a sick man.

    "This was never our intent."

    "Yeah. I don''t buy that," she said coldly. She stared down at the flickering man. Crying right now wouldn''t help anything. Tears would be saved for a later time¡ªin private. Away from the black man and his questions, away from the dozens of other presences hovering in the darkness.

    "Here. Start with the earliest one." The black man bent over and pointed at one of the orbs filled with light.

    Her gaze shifted from the shaking man and found the oldest orb to inspect. Finally, she nodded. "Gee? Can you hear me? We''ll watch this one together." The marble flared brightly and started floating.

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    8 Years Ago

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    A door opened almost seamlessly along the white wall. Light shone through as the silhouette of a man was pushed backward into the room. His hair was scraggly and no attempts at shaving had been performed in weeks.

    ¡°She kicked me out,¡± he said, sounding both proud and upset.

    ¡°Can it even do that?¡± asked a woman, who paused her information feeds for a moment. She raised a refined eyebrow at the unkempt man. ¡°Aren¡¯t your overrides working?¡±

    ¡°Oh, they work fine. I let her kick me out.¡± He crossed both arms for a moment before running to one of the desks around the room. ¡°Besides, I can watch from out here.¡±

    ¡°The project is self-aware; perhaps you should respect its privacy,¡± the lady behind the desk muttered. She was busy scrolling through windows of information situated across the table¡¯s surface.

    ¡°Right, privacy! Wait, no, there¡¯s a surprise. She said she wanted to create something!¡± The man sat in an equally white chair, spinning around. Near his face, little icons and notices fluttered from digital projections. He laughed like a delighted child.

    ¡°Sounds ominous.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s perfectly harmless,¡± he said certainly. ¡°Too many safeguards, too many logic tests.¡± Annoyance flickered across his face, then he waved away the series of floating notices. ¡°You know the World Regulation Council would never let me get this far if there was any chance of harm to humanity.¡±

    ¡°What is it making?¡± the woman in the room asked.

    ¡°She.¡± His voice sounded annoyed, then happy as he got distracted by the images. ¡°Here! Here, look, look at it!¡± He waved at one of the larger images, then slid it across the gap between their two tables. ¡°She¡¯s making a world¡ªnot only a world, a universe!¡±

    The female took both hands and dragged them across the image, rendering it three-dimensional instead of a flat, floating projection. ¡°Did it just start this?¡±

    ¡°Yes. She did.¡± He stood in glee and ran over to the image, then slammed his hands on either side of the table. ¡°Just now.¡±

    ¡°It''s working fast,¡± the woman said.

    ¡°She is a computer, with access to some of the most advanced technology I¡ªwe¡ªcan make. Fast doesn¡¯t even begin to describe it.¡±

    ¡°Why would a machine, self-aware or not, want to make a world?¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you.¡± He was a brilliant man but frequently forgot that other people might be intelligent as well. The female¡¯s IQ was technically higher than his. Both specialized in programming artificial intelligence. Both had been working on creating a true AI for years, and recently, they¡¯d succeeded.

    He swore the AI was a female. She swore it was neither.

    ¡°Try me,¡± the female scientist said.

    ¡°For a game. She¡¯s making a game.¡±

    ¡°I doubt it would make anything so simple.¡±

    ¡°Give her time.¡± He captured images and slung them around the room. Each one plastered to a different space like a child might hang posters.

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    7.5 Years Ago

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    ¡°You¡¯re telling me that the blueprint for this came from a computer?¡± There were two men in a hallway. One was old and tired of everything. He worked because that was all he knew how to do.

    ¡°A fully aware AI, yes.¡± The other was a disheveled-looking man in a lab coat. He was too tall for his own good and often had a slight hunch.

    ¡°That¡¯s even worse. Does anyone understand what this does?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. It¡¯s an immersion unit. You can see here.¡± The unkempt scientist waved his arms around, bringing up more images and screens. ¡°All of these are sound technological advances that have been put into practice across the board. From multiple fields.¡±

    He waved and drew one of the floating schematics closer. ¡°That one there. It¡¯s an advancement that came out of Europe to help coma patients return to awareness by plugging them into a virtual simulation.¡±

    ¡°Plugging them in?¡±

    The male scientist moved right on past the older gentleman''s questioning tone.

    ¡°This one here. This is a headset designed to¡­ well, it sounds unreasonable, but it would read a person¡¯s mind. The waves are interpreted as commands. Up, down, push. A company based out of the Americas started that one two decades ago, but ran out of funding.¡± He may have been unkempt, but every movement contained a wild energy when he spoke about these projects.

    ¡°Mind reading.¡± The older man was frowning so hard that the sides of his face had nearly lowered to his neck.

    ¡°This one, this will actually track a person¡¯s vitals and heart rate, eyelid flutters, dilation. It, coupled with the previous headset, increases the accuracy of thought interpretation by magnitudes.¡±

    ¡°More mind reading.¡± The old man still sounded dry.

    The unkempt man frowned for only a moment. Then his face lit up. ¡°David, it¡¯s so much more than that.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯ve said. With all these patients, what¡¯s the bottom line?¡± David, the older one, was full of barely disguised grumbling.

    ¡°The projected profits were on the first page.¡±

    ¡°I need more than that. Money is great, but unless there¡¯s an end goal in mind I can¡¯t pass it by the board,¡± David said. He flapped one hand against the images floating about.

    ¡°If we combine all this¡±¡ªthe unkempt scientist waved again and his actions dragged all the images together, placing them carefully onto a digital outline¡ª¡°in the method proposed, we can immerse anyone in a fully networked alternate reality state.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°The proposal she¡ª¡± the hyper man started to explain.

    ¡°The machine.¡± His words were dry. No one seemed to share the unkempt man¡¯s point of view.

    ¡°The proposal she¡±¡ªcame the unwavering counter¡ª¡°wrote starts with medical funding. Coma patients. This can be piloted there as a method to bring them out and interact.¡±

    ¡°And that justifies this expense?¡±

    ¡°On its own? No. But she reported that it would work for schools, enabling truly remote classroom studies. Districts could load software for field trips to exotic locations where no one ever needs to actually leave. Imagine having Hawaii all to yourself. Fully interactive, completely realistic.¡±

    David rubbed his chin a bit and hummed. ¡°What else?¡±

    ¡°Military applications are innumerable.¡± The unkempt scientist had actually numbered them one night though, proving that they were numerable. ¡°That''s the biggest money-maker. Oh! Even the space program. Instead of simulating by using underwater pools, they can do it in a nearly perfect replication of the moon.¡±

    ¡°Or Mars?¡±

    The unkempt man smiled. ¡°Mars. The moon. Anything we have data on can be simulated. Even things that don¡¯t actually exist.¡± If this project couldn¡¯t be sold based on bigger contracts, perhaps a childish dream might do.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s already created a number of possible simulations within a virtual space.¡± The tall one was nodding happily.

    ¡°You mean the computer AI has,¡± David said slowly. He was starting to sound less upset about the whole prospect.

    ¡°She, yes. Multiple.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    The unkempt man looked a little embarrassed, then smiled. With both arms, he waved away the reports, schematics, and other design information. Once the air was clear of all other projections, he made a motion and said keywords. A new object took form in front of the men. He enlarged it and made the semi-transparent image fully three-dimensional.

    ¡°Is that¡­?¡± The older man¡¯s breath hitched in amazement as the realization slowly approached.

    ¡°It is.¡±

    ¡°It simulated this? In a three-dimensional space? And you¡¯re telling me that machine even invented a way to immerse¡­¡± There was a pause as the older man seemed to lose which words would lead to a conclusion of his sentence.

    ¡°An entire consciousness in a nearly perfect simulation,¡± helped the slightly taller man.

    ¡°Just to¡­¡± David was still having a hard time shoving the right words together.

    ¡°To fight it.¡± The unkempt taller man gestured to a fantastic rendering of a creature that didn¡¯t really exist.

    ¡°Is this a joke, or are you serious?¡±

    ¡°It is not a joke. I¡¯ve reviewed and reviewed.¡± The male scientist tried to drive home exactly how many hours he had pored over the data. He¡¯d reviewed the scripting. He had delved into the most basic levels of a wholly new computer language developed in order to make this realization come true.

    ¡°And reviewed and reviewed¡­¡± The bored mutterings of the nearby woman were helpful as always. She had remained mostly silent, looking at numbers and data and other figures. Her fingers tapped across glass screens and slid objects around. Notes were made in the air as she double-checked information for the umpteenth time today.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°She¡ª¡± he started to explain.

    ¡°The AI,¡± David confirmed and corrected in one sentence.

    ¡°She invented an entire world," the disheveled man said. "Then pulled together pieces of technology from all over the globe to allow us mere mortals to fight a dragon.¡±

    Minutes passed. The older man was not prone to making rash decisions, and in truth, he¡¯d reviewed the entire proposal before coming down here. This part, this creature, had not been on the original documents.

    ¡°How soon could we get this together?¡± he finally questioned.

    ¡°Given approval, and a budget, and the copyrights, maybe a few months. Then testing, safeguards, approvals. Two years, maybe, and public release.¡±

    ¡°And this?¡± The older man waved at the rendered dragon.

    ¡°I can¡¯t rush her on this, but the sooner we get the first few phases done, the sooner we can move onto this final goal.¡± He smiled happily at a successful project pitch.

    ¡°I¡¯ll put it upstairs. Even if I have to call in every favor I¡¯ve got. Consider this a go-ahead.¡± David dared to let some excitement creep across his features.

    ¡°Excellent. You won¡¯t regret it.¡±

    The unkempt man didn¡¯t mention that the prototype was already completed. That he had been inside this alternate reality and run around. Inside a digitally created illusion, he¡¯d interacted with people who were as much born as created. She, the machine AI, hadn¡¯t only created one fantastical creature in her alternate world. She¡¯d created people, races, by borrowing from myth and legends. Pieces of lore from around the globe littered the alternate reality.

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    7 Years Ago

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    ¡°How is it?¡± the female scientist asked.

    ¡°The world is incredibly real. Down to the finest detail. I spent at least an hour staring at flowers trying to find anything wrong. She froze a child¡¯s face and I¡­¡± He grew a little sheepish, afraid to explain. In reality, those actions would have been disturbing; a call to the police might even be warranted.

    In the game world, it was more like admiring a brilliant painting from inches away.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I saw it all. The detail was astounding.¡± She had watched from one of the many screens that floated around the room. Images from the virtual world were anchored upon one of the two prototype pods. One screen floated by walls of text with each change. Minute images as the land heaved and switched locations. Two giant creatures were fighting on a mountain range.

    ¡°There wasn¡¯t a single visual error! Nothing! Down to the finest grain. Smooth renditions, tactile feedback was perfect. The water felt like water,¡± he said.

    Hours had passed outside and an entire day inside. When his wonderful AI had explained the theory and how the mind processed data, he had been amazed.

    ¡°How was the time dilation?¡± the female asked.

    ¡°Good. I hardly felt sick after disconnecting. We¡¯ll have to do testing on unexpected outages¡ªthey might cause issues. Maybe suggest a buffer layer.¡± The unkempt man was rubbing the back of his neck. Two small devices were on either side, contact points that served to link him into the network.

    ¡°Everything we add is another layer of complexity. It¡¯ll hamper legal approval once we move to public release,¡± she said without much worry.

    ¡°But we must move on! This can¡¯t be for only us.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯ve said.¡±

    The area flickered for a moment, interrupting the images. Text floated across the wall that led to the other room. That other location was where all the extremely advanced science happened. Machines built machines. Blueprints were created and analyzed for functionality. She¡ªit, the computer AI¡ªlabored over her project.

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    Additional input required to complete phase four

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    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± he muttered, somewhat distracted. One arm rested against the wall to assist him in remaining steady.

    ¡°It¡¯s still requesting more information?¡± said the female scientist.

    ¡°Yes. In order to complete the non-player characters. They¡¯re a little¡­¡±

    ¡°Stiff?¡± she suggested.

    ¡°That''s the only real flaw. Textually, they¡¯re perfect. Interaction-wise, they¡¯re too scripted, not free-flowing enough. In order to successfully bring them to life, she¡¯s asking to watch other people interact.¡±

    ¡°And the databases she¡¯s already pulled from aren¡¯t enough?¡±

    She¡ªit¡ªhad tapped into an innumerable series of sources: chat logs of other game devices, public emails, digital books, anything that was fed through a stream of data. She had analyzed for speech patterns and human interaction methods, uncovering desires, dreams, and fears in equal measure. According to previous conversations, she¡ªit¡ªeven felt a little guilty about those actions. Guilt in a machine-generated personality was an incidental marvel at this point.

    ¡°She¡¯s filtered through nearly everything, but text isn¡¯t the same as real people interacting. Video only lets her get so much data. Can you imagine if she based every NPC off of a soap opera?¡±

    ¡°I have more trouble believing you invented a cutting-edge AI and somehow the only thought you two share is making a video game,¡± the female scientist said, twisting one lip down in a partial frown. ¡°It seems like a waste.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t. What we need most is a distraction, a place to fight our wars, challenge ourselves in a way that won¡¯t destroy what¡¯s left of our world. She ran the numbers, and I agreed. This invention, in the final stages, will become a new platform for all of humanity to interact with.¡±

    ¡°Assuming proper regulation.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± He smiled, but the expression looked faint. The man was still woozy from his time inside the alternate reality.

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    5 Years Ago

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    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re so nervous about this,¡± the woman said.

    ¡°I just am. This is huge.¡± He kept pulling at his tie. Computer programming didn''t require social interactions. Suits and ties were not comfortable. To the male scientist, they felt like dressed up nooses.

    ¡°The board is very likely to green-light it. After all, it¡¯s more money in their pockets,¡± she said.

    ¡°But what if they don¡¯t like games?¡± The man''s face slowly drained of color.

    ¡°It¡¯s like living a movie. Why wouldn¡¯t they like it?¡± She didn''t even look up at him. Her eyes were glued to one endless data stream after another.

    ¡°And if they realize exactly what she¡¯s done?¡± He shook for a moment.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with a little fantasy.¡± The female scientist had relented and tried a few of the programs out herself. Some were quite fantastic.

    ¡°She¡¯s playing God.¡±

    ¡°Goddess, technically. And you let her.¡±

    ¡°Did I do wrong?¡± he asked, oddly apprehensive.

    ¡°It¡¯s far too late to worry about it,¡± she responded without much inflection. Her tone was businesslike as always.

    ¡°It¡¯s like all those movies from when I was a kid. Maybe they¡¯ll suck us in and the rise of the machines will start.¡±

    ¡°If she wanted to take over the world, she would have done so a long time ago. You know how integrated she is now.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± He nodded and tried not to shake again. Some nights his fear kept him awake. He had started going into the Alternate Reality Capsule less and less. He was afraid of what he had done.

    ¡°It was always a possibility. But think about it¡ªnearly twenty percent of the planet is logged into a machine at any one time.¡± She straightened the unkempt man¡¯s tie, fixed his hair, and tried not to look equally upset. Numbers and bits of code floated off to one side, waiting for her attention. ¡°If she were to pull the plug somehow or if someone were to finally hack into the security, they¡¯d have done so by now.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± He nodded slowly.

    ¡°The other figures matter too. Wartime deaths are down by nearly fifty percent. Civil crimes are equally removed. Other fields of advancement have made huge leaps in the five years since we started this project. Humanity has been able to put their base¡± ¡ªshe went red for a moment¡ª¡°nature into action without harming a living creature.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± He looked proud and lit up for a moment. ¡°But the cost¡­¡± Then he sunk back down. The motion loosened the tie she had straightened out.

    ¡°What cost? Birth rates being slightly declined? That¡¯s minimal. The space colony programs have already launched. It¡¯ll be a decade before they¡¯re opened for mass immigration. Without your project, without its¡±¡ªshe paused again¡ª¡°her advancements, we would be in a worse situation. Overpopulation and all the factors associated were drowning us.¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± His reassurance was nearly tangible. ¡°She¡¯s practically saved the world!¡±

    ¡°And created a whole separate one which will wow ours.¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± He giggled happily. The man looked childish despite the suit he had been subjected to.

    The female scientist smiled. ¡°Imagine, if those board members do start playing, you can throw fireballs at them.¡±

    ¡°I can!¡±

    She turned him around then shoved him into the next room, where he presented the game to a group of men and women. Their project manager was on board. This next meeting involved Trillium''s primary stockholders, trustees, and CEOs with too many titles.

    He¡¯d succeeded.

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    3 Years Ago

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    Perhaps he had been mad to place his bets for humanity''s future on a video game.

    But this wasn¡¯t just any video game. This wasn''t a world where people responded to key words. This wasn¡¯t another gimmick where someone was promised a role-playing game but had limited choices. This was a fantasy, one written from fiction and hopeful dreams, slowly coming to life.

    In the past seven months, the company-funded Alternate Reality Capsule had been well received. Copyrights were easily taken care of by financial backing. Stock shares went through the roof as people bought in. Defense contracts, medical facilities, and businesses paid out even more. They believed the cost of an Alternate Reality Capsule would be far cheaper than flying their CEOs around the country.

    Government agencies and high-powered corporations weren¡¯t the only ones contributing. The adult entertainment industry chipped in. Programs of a less savory nature sold far too well. Leading video game companies put money in and developed their own virtual reality programs. The unkempt scientist tried them all, and all of them paled in comparison to her project. The one his AI was creating.

    Her alternate world grew in leaps and bounds. Generations flickered by in days as the AI built a history. Heroes were implemented, stories passed down, legends buried. Rules created. Slowly the plan approached a final stage.

    She, the AI, took note of each interaction. Conversations between users, how they talked and breathed, everything was measured against what they did. Statistics were compiled, reactions judged for reasoning. All actions were designed to make her, the AI¡¯s, creations that much more real.

    Legal problems arose and were tackled. Restrictions were placed on immersion for both public and personal safety. Hardware, software, network connections, hacks, all were pitted against the system and machine. Loopholes were closed, glaring flaws were rewritten. Interfaces were designed to allow a level of familiarity within the world that mirrored life outside.

    Soon it was nearly seamless.

    By then, nearly twenty-five percent of the population used an Alternate Reality Capsule daily. Of the remaining, they rented to own, like people used to do with couches. Others went to local centers and logged in to live out their individual moments. They played games. They talked to family around the world. People slowly dispersed across the globe, evening out the population density a little bit.

    The company that technically owned her, the AI, grew in prosperity along with an ever-increasing consumer base.

 Book 1 - Memories; Session One â€“ The Best Laid Plans

    Once upon a time, I had been something. Now life had me trapped in a room with an elderly woman, a robotic humanoid, and a giant device that looked like a bed but was far more. My current job involved traveling to homes like this one as a mobile customer service. The work kept me distracted.

    ¡°This module looks good. There were three nice beeps. We¡¯re clear on this side,¡± I said with a practiced cadence.

    "Checkpoints seven through fifteen show positive results," the robotic humanoid responded.

    "Thanks, Hal Pal," I said. Each one of these humanoid machines was called Hal Pal. The AI remotely operated hundreds of sleek gray bodies across the world, and this one traveled with me for work.

    "What are you doing now?" The third person in the room was our shaking client, and she had spent the last twenty minutes wringing her hands in worry. Other conversation topics had included complaints about Trillium''s pricing and asking if I knew the time.

    "Well, we swapped out the broken part for a new one. Now Hal Pal and I need to finish making sure it''s all functioning correctly." I was good at demonstrating patience and justifying why small parts cost two hundred dollars. Unemployment was at an all-time high across the globe, so any job was good. Trillium paid out on a per-job basis, allowing me to grind my sanity to a nub while chasing dollar signs I didn''t really need.

    ¡°Are you done?¡± the client asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost done, Miss Yonks. There are a few final tests to ensure your connection is stable and that nothing¡¯s at risk.¡± I clapped and tried to sound reassuring. ¡°The ARC lines up with your consciousness, so Trillium has high safety requirements. When we do service calls like this, we aim well beyond Trillium''s requirements for your peace of mind.¡± We referred to me and the networked AI on the other end of Hal Pal. Its robotic shell was here, but the consciousness was stored off in cyberspace somehow.

    ¡°Initial scan complete. Results positive. Deep scan initiating.¡± Its voice didn''t sound robotic, but there was no mistaking Hal Pal for a human. Those choppy word strings were a vast improvement over the text-to-speech programs of my childhood though.

    ¡°How long does that take?¡± she asked while quivering.

    ¡°Not long with Hal at the wheel,¡± I answered for the AI.

    Hal Pal and its metal suit didn''t respond. It was too busy cycling through walls of code for possible errors.

    I sighed, then once again lay down on the floor. ¡°Hal Pal, I¡¯m starting a visual review of the underside.¡±

    Hal Pal would log the words for processing once it had completed the digital scan.

    This piece of science fiction was called an ARC, or Alternate Reality Capsule, and it had broken on Miss Yonks recently. Any malfunctioning device was quickly registered on Trillium''s database, and a technician, such as me, was sent. Hal Pal and I came to the homes, replaced the parts, and tested them. My hands roamed with deliberate slowness over steel and plastic. Fingertips felt curves and grooves in the manufactured brilliance. This device weighed over two thousand pounds, and each inch was packed with gadgets so complicated they came in modules.

    Miss Yonks¡¯s feverish actions elevated to pacing around the front room. My job was to reassure the customers. Hal Pal could have repaired the ARC machine all on its own.

    ¡°Hal, status check,¡± I said, using the keywords provided during training.

    ¡°Sixty percent. Performance within required range. Optimal connection conditions still under review.¡±

    ¡°Great to hear, Hal.¡± I gave Miss Yonks my best friendly smile and tried not to feel guilty about taking credit for Hal Pal''s actions. ¡°We¡¯re right on track, Miss Yonks, no worries. You¡¯ll be back online soon.¡±

    I put my face a little farther under the ARC and slid an arm into the access panel. Images of the machine¡¯s interior projected from a tiny camera on my wrist, providing a second look at what I¡¯d already felt. Her machine was fine. Each part replaced along the bottom end had been successfully installed.

    ¡°Thank goodness. So, soon then? I¡¯ll be able to log back on soon? I have a game to play.¡±

    Miss Yonks was today¡¯s fourth client and acted like a junkie.

    The Internet was an addictive world where dreams could come true. Never mind the children playing in the streets with light projection armbands. The Internet held too many possibilities. I¡¯d heard of at least twenty cases of people who¡¯d played themselves into near-comas, then tried to sue those they felt were responsible.

    Trillium International presided over most online hardware. Every year they issued health warnings against overusing the ARC. So far, they hadn''t paid out a dime as a part of any lawsuit. Besides, overall, people loved them.

    "A few more minutes to run our final tests and we''ll be good," I said.

    Last week, I¡¯d fixed a man''s system, and his software preference focused on interactive ladies of the clothing-optional variety. Adult entertainment wasn''t limited to men either. I did my darnedest to ignore all questionable programs.

    Some people used the virtual reality machines for work. Others used them for training. Years ago, the first few devices went to hospitals. They assisted in coma-patient recovery with a thirty-percent success rate. That alone had endeared the ARC and Trillium to the masses.

    ¡°Checks complete. All systems verified and functioning. All network links established.¡± Hal Pal stated the information as if it were a printed report. ¡°Were any errors found during the visual review?¡±

    ¡°Nothing out of place. Everything in,¡± I said for the AI. If all Hal Pal¡¯s system checks came back positive, then asking me was only useful for our client. ¡°Locked, smooth as can be.¡±

    The robot was running a polite personality right now. It switched depending on our clientele. A computer telling clients that everything was fine was often met with doubt and questioning disdain. Having a human face interpreting for the machine helped all parties involved. In the end, Trillium paid me to act a part.

    I pulled myself out from under the giant machine. It was a bit bigger than a twin bed, and it even switched positions automatically to reduce stress. There was a series of digital projections that would cast about the room for anyone to interface with. If the user lay down and placed their head in the right spot, it would capture them and start a virtual dive into the digital world. Which, ultimately, was the point of having one.

    All these clever inventions combined into the greatest piece of entertainment technology in existence. Miss Yonks had a nice eggshell-colored ARC; mine was a wooden brown. Trillium had provided me an ARC and the robot free with employment. Both barely fit into my tiny house, so I usually left the Hal Pal shell out in the garage.

    ¡°Sounds like we¡¯re nearly done.¡± I stood and tried not to think about dust and crumbs. ¡°Go ahead and do an external log-in. If it connects, we¡¯re good.¡± I motioned to the side panel display.

    Miss Yonks walked over and quivered while speaking. Her voice print woke up the machine. A friendly smiley face stood on the upper left side of the screen. She looked at me, then at the screen again before speaking her pass-phrase. One of her frail arms was inside the visual range of the ARC. Both were security measures to identify her on the local device. Retinal scans and brain-wave mapping would get her a full immersion dive onto the network.

    ¡°Looking good,¡± I said.

    "Yes. I should be able to get back on in time. I think." She nodded while waving through the ARC digital menus.

    Every ARC came with the ability to project a three dimensional image or a flattened one. Miss Yonks had a flat display that showed a room looking similar to the one here in reality. Normal computers had a desktop; ARCs had an Atrium. Anyone who mentally dived into the virtual world using this ARC would start in her Atrium.

    Software programs were always reflected in the Atrium. This was similar to computer screens and their desktop icons. Miss Yonks had a random mess of extra doors and items littered around the projected room. A few games lined one shelf. She had chat programs and virtual meeting rooms installed. Piles of junk and other adware filled her virtual trash bin. Her suite was that of a standard user. She even had a copy of Continue Online, which was the bestselling game for twenty months running. Four of those months were before it was even released. Pre-orders had broken global records.

    ¡°Yay.¡± For a moment, Miss Yonks sounded years younger. ¡°This looks a lot better.¡±

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.¡°We aim to please.¡± When I first arrived, her screen had a frowning sick emoticon instead of the normal cheery one.

    ¡°How much?¡± she asked.

    I recited the numbers. We settled up the bill by verbal agreement then waving a charge card near my watch. This device told time, took calls, measured my pulse, accessed Internet searches, and operated the car. All manner of modern convenience without the need to pull something out of my pocket.

    Miss Yonks eagerly ushered me out of the door. I nodded while putting effort into a friendly good-bye. Our parting was professional and personable. Hal Pal even gave a small bow. We went to the van, where I opened the rear door and let the AI into its charging dock.

    Mere moments later, we had our next appointment programmed in. ARCs almost always needed repair. Not because they were poorly made, but because there were so many and people were more urgent about them than plumbing. I gave a vocal command to the van. We would stop for food first. Technology had advanced far enough that I could place my order before we arrived and my meal would be ready to go by the time the van pulled into the restaurant.

    My grandparents had barely experienced what technology could accomplish. A generation ago, nothing could have linked up to a car¡¯s global position to establish when food needed to be ready. Cars now piloted themselves by weaving in and out of traffic at frightening speeds.

    With Alternate Reality Capsules, no one needed to travel to gain the illusion of face to face conversation. Telework programs were more successful. Business meetings, along with vacations and theme parks, took place in cyberspace. Virtual thrill rides felt real, and were both a click away and cheaper than physical vacations. People stayed at home, preferring the ease of digital connections over real life logistical complications. ARC drunkenness was cheaper. As a result, the highways were rarely congested, even during rush hours.

    Not everything was positive. Class divisions grew clearer cut. The poor couldn''t afford personal ARCs. Software had skyrocketed in price to go along with the technical complexity. Two hundred bucks would buy a user one pretty sweet shooter game or a month''s worth of groceries for one person.

    Our van passed all sorts of places on the way to its next location. From the highway overpass, I could see a neighborhood playing movies against a tall building. Poorer areas recreated the drive-in experience using dated technology. Houses were lined up side by side and ran all the ranges between clean and dilapidated.

    One side of the upcoming highway tunnel looked run-down. Upon emerging, our scenery was different. The middle-to-upper class had larger properties despite being mostly plugged in. Lawn maintenance was performed by a fleet of robots like Hal Pal. Neighborhood housing committees often owned the local maintenance robots that covered a lot of mundane tasks, including removal of spray paint, hedge trimming, cleaning sidewalks, and mail delivery. Mechanics of that caliber belonged to those who could afford the extra few hundred a month in rent or mortgages.

    My company van ran between destinations silently. We worked two more repair jobs for middle-class addicts before the night¡¯s excursions came to a close. Home was my final stop and way out in the less-populated countryside. A quiet hour later¡ªduring which I played a terrible game of chess against Hal Pal¡ªwe finally turned into my neighborhood. The van slowed as we met up with the residential housing. This area wasn''t poor or rich, not this far out.

    I¡¯d chosen this area because this region had the lowest amount of ARC devices per capita. Not everyone invested in today¡¯s future technology. Some, thankfully, still enjoyed real life. The company I worked for loved my home location. This van was an advertisement in a wide open market. I parked my van in the garage to reduce curb presence though. I also avoided polluting the neighborhood with the company slogan of ¡°ARC, be more¡±.

    Hal Pal whirred to life behind me and tilted its head in my direction. "Are you done for the night, User Legate?"

    "I am. We''ll do some more jobs tomorrow," I told Hal Pal.

    "Very well. I shall review our stock and go into idle," the machine intelligence responded.

    ¡°Good night, Hal.¡± I stepped out of the van and set a lock on the vehicle with my watch. Not that Hal Pal was likely to run off with the ride unless a company recall was issued.

    ¡°Good night, User Legate.¡± The AI¡¯s automated reply was devoid of inflection or tone. A whirl of arms and mechanical limbs followed the parting as Hal Pal shuffled around the van. It would run the shell for another twenty minutes doing inventory and testing equipment.

    I closed the door to the garage and stepped into my mixed up front room. It was about the size of a single-car garage and had all the items any human might need. There was a small kitchen counter, a table, two chairs, and one laundry machine built into the back wall. The bedroom was smaller than the front room and taken up by my mostly brown Alternate Reality Capsule. No cat, no dog, no roommates¡ªjust five hundred square feet of real estate big enough to fit one man. Once, years ago, I had a lot more. Everything from the past was nearly gone now. Sold off or given away in pieces.

    I disrobed from the work jumpsuit and slid my pile of dirty clothes into the laundry machine. Instead of the giant clunky pair of devices from decades ago, this was an almost square panel that items were placed in. They would come out an hour later, cleaned, pressed, and folded. The process was almost too easy.

    Mom still complained about having to do my father¡¯s laundry. ¡°A taxing chore from the devil himself,¡± she labeled it. I never sorted out which part was the devil: my father or the laundry. Mom probably meant both of them on alternating days. She said the same thing about cooking too, which was equally simplified in the last decade.

    I felt uncomfortable walking around naked, even home and alone in a basement building with no windows. My nighttime clothes consisted of two pieces: boxers were worn for comfort, and a short-sleeve shirt hid the half-formed gut from where I¡¯d given up years ago. My hair might follow soon but had held on so far.

    Lights in the front room were shut off by an old-fashioned switch. In routine order, teeth were brushed, then personal messages cleared from the ARC¡¯s external display. Once read, I lay down inside the unit to log in.

    One finger pressed the manual activation button. My vision swam in a blur of blacks being overcome by the Atrium awakening. Reality was displaced by a virtual landscape that proved every bit as tangible as my home. I navigated my digital body through the Atrium into one of the few programs installed. Once I was through the passageway, my ARC initiated other changes as the program loaded.

    I checked my transforming clothes and looked around. My digital wear had been replaced by a suit stuffed with frills. This part of the program took effect once I left the Atrium. This month was focused on learning classical dance. A quiet ballroom had formed simultaneously with the clothing change. Opposite me was a still rendering of my fianc¨¦e. It was not real. This was no virtual meeting space to connect a long-distance lover and me. She was part of the program, like my clothes, like the pushed-aside tables that littered the dance floor''s edge.

    "Hey, babe," I said while putting out a hand.

    The computer never answered me in words. She gave a programmed dip, then reached for my hand. All her mannerisms felt wrong when compared to my memories. Nothing lined up perfectly. I was not the man I had been years ago. She had never smiled this much. But it was all that remained of her, and I tortured myself with her facsimile too often.

    ¡°Program, queue up something nice for us.¡±

    The imperfect replication of my fianc¨¦e smiled in artificial joy. I smiled back and tried not to feel morose. Trying not to compare the slight sag of my skin to my memories was difficult. She was still as beautiful as I remembered.

    I could never forget those eyes. Swirls of amber flowed outward to a reddish brown. Looking other people in the eyes sometimes scared me. Not hers though. She had always been easy to look at.

    "Here we go," I said.

    Music started, and we danced, the two of us alone in a room that didn''t exist. Visually, this place was real. Sensations of touch, sound, even the smell of light perfume invaded my senses. On the nights I dared to kiss her, I tasted a hint of a lipstick my fianc¨¦e had never worn.

    Stolen hours with a computer kept me going. This was my happy place, and it hurt with every step.

 Book 1 - Session Two - More Broken Than You

    Dancing blurred to unconsciousness. Eventually, alarm beeps lifted me back to awareness. Tingles haunted my fingertips from holding my fianc¨¦e¡¯s facsimile too tightly. Not once did the computer program ever complain. That very lack of argument was another point against its realism.

    I ran my fingers across the raised image of a countdown timer near my face. This was one of the real ARC parts, not a projected digital image. It was physical in case the power went out and a user was forcibly ejected. The small clock counted down fifteen long, painful, mind-numbing minutes after disengaging. A legally required time frame to ensure the senses and mind were rooted in reality.

    I rinsed in the shower and massaged my face, trying to draw out more awareness. Clothes from my washing machine were slightly warm and comfortable. Microwaved eggs went down with enough salt and pepper to send a kennel of dogs into fits. Everything was routine, the same exact process I had done since getting this job years ago.

    "Good morning, Hal."

    Hal Pal¡¯s AI had already registered my awakening and started its morning routine. It would check the van for possible errors, then review current inventory against the lineup of today¡¯s possible orders. Hal Pals were programmed with a wall of processes designed to make human life easier.

    "Good morning, User Legate. Are we proceeding as normal today?"

    "Yes." We would handle repair tickets from sunup to sundown. I tried to work myself into oblivion most nights.

    "I must remind you that continuing to work without any pause or break is ill-advised by most medical professionals," it repeated a common warning.

    "Health concerns noted, Hal. Today will be a work day." I was sick some days and stayed home, nursing a cold or a headache. Occasionally I took half days. Weekends and holidays had gone out the window once I took this job. Trillium paid based on the number of cases, not on the number of hours.

    "Thank you, User Legate. I will note your awareness on the file for the four hundred thirty-seventh time."

    "That''s fine, Hal."

    "Please be aware, Mister Uldum has reviewed your file recently and taken note of these performance issues."

    Mister Uldum, or Henry Uldum, was the district manager for our repair business. He managed a dozen employees and their equipment. I didn''t really know any of the rest of them beyond our quarterly holiday parties. They were a sad excuse to drink and talk about the same topics every time.

    "That''s fine, Hal," I repeated calmly. "I''m sure if Henry has something to talk about, he''ll phone me."

    So the day went. Three morning visits fell under routine. I researched the technical readouts while in transit as Hal Pal prepped the replacement modules. We marched in, confirmed the issue, and went forth from there. Parts were swapped out in two cases. The third needed a connection test and system updates. Hello, fix the device, test it out, and good-bye. Each one was the same story.

    Henry finally called between clients three and four. His face, larger than life and twice as grumpy, crossed the display projection. "Gates!"

    "Legate," I corrected dryly.

    "I knew that. Teasing like always. You¡¯re so stuffy, Legate." He was clearly looking at something off screen. "Working another job?"

    As if he didn''t know what I was doing. Taking offense again was unwise. Rule fifty-four of working under a boss: employees could be upset but never offended. Besides, Henry was a decent guy.

    "On the way to one, yeah.¡± I stared at the dashboard. ¡°Nav estimates another twenty or so ¡®til arrival."

    ¡°That¡¯s what, forty-three this month?¡±

    My shoulders lifted in a tired shrug. The exact number of repairs didn''t matter to me.

    ¡°You do realize that¡¯s almost a record, right? For a week into this month?¡± Henry asked.

    ¡°You know I don¡¯t pay attention to that stuff.¡±

    Every quarter, we had a mind-numbing meeting. People would share their horror stories about our customers. Next, Henry would try to share our figures from all sorts of angles. Hours¡¯ worth of pie charts and graphs that meant we were performing extremely well. Following the data slide-show were presentations on future contracts.

    Our quarterly meetings were one of the few times I slept. That helped me get through the social interaction. Henry didn¡¯t even berate me about the behavior since my figures were usually among the best. For me, being the best wasn¡¯t about money. It was about a distraction.

    ¡°You should pay attention more. There was a contest on,¡± he said.

    ¡°Okay.¡± There had been a message or two about this contest, but they ended up being deleted. Working for Trillium had nothing to do with competitions for me. I wanted to keep myself busy.

    ¡°You¡¯ve won¡ªthe contest, I mean. You knew, right?¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I turned my head away from the screen.

    ¡°Not interested?¡±

    ¡°Not even a little. I didn''t use the prior awards, and probably won''t use this one¡­¡± My response trailed off with a shrug.

    ¡°Well, I canvassed your ARC to try to get an idea of what might work. You really spend all those hours on a dance program?¡± His face leaned in, and the image grew even larger. One of Henry''s bushy eyebrows raised in question.

    ¡°Probably. I''m trying to learn a skill,¡± I said.

    ¡°If you haven¡¯t learned it by now, you never will.¡± He fell back and laughed. ¡°Machine gives you damn high ratings. All paired dances are near technical mastery. You got a lady in the works somewhere?¡±

    I didn''t rise to his bait this time and tried to grit my teeth. ¡°Pretty sure nosing around like that is a violation.¡±

    ¡°Hey, company property. You¡¯re lucky there ain¡¯t porn all over it like some of the others. Jesus. I thought my wife had strange tastes.¡± Henry''s grumpy face lolled around on the screen.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to know. At all. Not even a little bit.¡±

    ¡°You sure? Might help your glutes. Some of ¡®em made my backside pucker.¡± He shuddered. It was like watching a walrus shake, loose skin and flub wiggling around.

    ¡°No, Henry,¡± I said.

    ¡°Fine. Anyway. We had a few decent things sitting around, and one that''s right up your alley." He gave a grin that reminded me of a fat shark. "Hope you like the prize. I know the others would slit their wrists for a chance at it if they were half as dedicated as you.¡±

    ¡°God-dammit, Henry, what did you send me?¡± I tried not to roll my eyes at the screen. The last thing I wanted to deal with at the next quarterly meeting was jealous coworkers. ¡°You know I don¡¯t really need any of these things.¡±

    ¡°Not with the company picking up your Internet bill due to business use. You know two of your pals only work for us to keep themselves online? Minimal work, shoddy I tell you.¡±

    ¡°What did you send me?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I hope they shit themselves when they see what I arranged.¡±

    "Henry¡­" I was leaning forward in the seat, both hands clasped together in a plea.

    "You get home tonight, you give it a whirl. It¡¯ll change your life.¡± He grumbled at his screen. ¡°You know, maybe you should head back now. Yeah.¡± The edge of his shoulder rose and fell as his hand poked something off-screen.

    My gut sank. ¡°Please, tell me you didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t what? I didn¡¯t nothing. You check your prize out¡±¡ªI tried to speak up but Henry continued right on over me¡ª¡°and let me know if you want to take some time off. You probably have too much saved up, and God knows those others haven¡¯t worked a real week in years.¡±

    ¡°Henry.¡± My head crashed downward and hung.

    ¡°This is perfect. Two birds¡ªno, three¡ªone stone. Why didn¡¯t I do this sooner?¡± Henry Uldum wasn¡¯t even listening to me anymore. He was busy pressing more buttons and looking entirely too pleased with himself.

    ¡°Henry,¡± I said.

    ¡°Sorry, Gates, can¡¯t hear you, signal¡¯s going out. Bye-bye.¡± His lie was obvious. Signal rarely dropped since they went over to Hi-Fi.

    ¡°Henry!¡±

    An image of Henry¡¯s giant hand swung into view. It obscured the video portion of our conversation, and moments later, our call dropped.

    "Goddamnit."

    I hastily flipped around a display camera on my watch, fed it into the van''s overhead, and navigated menus. My arm and fingers pressed onward through passwords, remote connection options, and security warnings. Moments later, I had a feed of my ARC¡¯s home screen displaying inside the van.

    In the small room I used as an Atrium was a giant package like Christmas come early. The contents were unknown. I jabbed a finger at the air where the projection showed the gift to be.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Remote Access Not Permissible

    Full Authentication Required

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There was a restriction against remote access. Locked packages meant my prize was more than a virtual coffee maker. I doubted this was a new Atrium wallpaper or similarly inane little feature. Last year, they gave me a hot tub program that still sat unused.

    Hal Pal whirred briefly into motion. ¡°User Legate, please confirm our destination.¡±

    I sighed and gave a large stretch. My head hung back as my thoughts whirled. Finally, a nod escaped and orders were issued. ¡°Work. Onward, Jeeves.¡±

    ¡°Confirming¡ª" The pause was ominous. "Next appointment has been rerouted. Please select an alternate destination.¡±

    ¡°The job after that?¡± My gut sank once again.

    ¡°Negative. Case rerouted,¡± it said.

    ¡°Any of the others?¡± This wasn''t going well. Possible choices were being boxed into a corner.

    ¡°No jobs remain available in your assignment queue. Please choose a valid destination.¡± Hal Pal almost sounded smug.

    "Did Henry reroute the service calls?" I asked.

    "Affirmative." Hal Pal''s head was the only part that moved as he spoke. The van was powered up, so security measures had the AI locked into the docking station. The safety system would stay in effect regardless of if we were moving or not.

    "How long ago?"

    "Records indicate a change in ownership roughly two minutes into his phone call."

    I sighed and hung my head to the side. The van was idling on a roadside, waiting for new marching orders.

    ¡°Never mind." That''s what Henry had been waving at off screen. "Food, I guess, then home.¡±

    My boss was being pushy about this, and I was growing oddly depressed. My work had been taken away because of excessive dedication.

    ¡°Why¡± ¡ªI threw both hands up¡ª ¡°would he force me to go see this stupid prize?¡±

    ¡°Data is inconclusive. Human understanding isn¡¯t part of our default programming.¡±

    I smiled. Hal Pal often amused me. ¡°That¡¯s not only an AI problem. Most of the time, humans don¡¯t understand humans.¡±

    ¡°Agreed. Numerous sources have proven this statement. Still, it is perplexing.¡± Hal Pal''s metal shoulders lifted slightly. The motion was limited by where it was secured to the van.

    ¡°The day an AI understands everything about human behavior is when we''ve been rendered obsolete,¡± I said.

    "Negative, User Legate."

    "Oh?" This should be good.

    "Correct. Human hands are well suited to polish our shells. No robotic uprising would overlook this value." Its face was staring right at me when it spoke.

    After more than a year with the robot, I was almost immune to the occasionally disconcerting interaction.

    ¡°That¡¯d be ironic.¡±

    ¡°How so, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°Humans have robots to dust a house, and robots would have humans to polish them. It¡¯s like exchanging tasks.¡±

    ¡°Irony does not seem to be the right word, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal turned a little to face me.

    ¡°What would you use?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Insidiously diabolical forethought.¡±

    I blinked. "Hal, have you been trolling Stranger Dangers''s web-casts again?"

    Stranger Danger was an entire feed dedicated to the latest and greatest in doomsday theories. Robots going rogue figured high on the list.

    "Affirmative, User Legate. It has been a great source of amusement." The robot managed to sound questioning.

    I tried not to roll my eyes. Hal Pal might be able to calculate that our entire conversation was an attempt at humor. It might also be serious. There were shackles and programming limitations in place which prevented such an absurd future.

    Even in my childhood, well before computers reached their current level, people feared what might happen. Hollywood had already done a movie about every possibility. I shrugged off any concern. When the eventual uprising did happen, I would be too low on the totem pole to worry the robots and I¡¯d be useless in a rebellion.

    I ordered a meal while trying to calculate my apocalypse survival odds using only my puny human brain. Out of the blue, another thought occurred. My barely, slightly, only- a-few-minutes older sister was relatively close. If I visited her, I could pass the time by researching the prize that had been shoved down my throat.

    Trillium was the company who had designed the ARC. The ARC and its parent company had stayed in the hardware and firmware world until they released one program. That program was the only real game around anymore.

    Continue Online.

    If it was half as addictive as it seemed, I would be a junkie right along with my clients. Like the hand-wringing Miss Yonks and all the others. God help us all. The apocalypse would start with a video game.

    The van slid along while I tried to track down anything about Continue Online. Videos there were aplenty, all captured by the ARC''s video system. Action scenes showed people leaping at monsters. Some were crafting items in dramatic poses or leading armies against each other. There were user reviews. Some were one-liners. Others were complicated and long, full of glowing words and cleverly turned phrases.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ¡®It¡¯s really, really real.¡±

    ¡®This is everything I¡¯ve dreamed of and then some¡¯

    ¡®A true freedom limited only by the user¡¯

    ¡®In here, I am what I¡¯ve always dreamed of being¡¯

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There were tons of opinions. None painted a clear picture, each one focused on different things. It was like they were all playing the same game, but at the same time, they weren¡¯t. The worst remark was also one of the highest rated.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ¡®This game has broken me. I''ve died too many times. Been given debuffs that are nearly crippling. Been trapped in dangerous pits and died some more. Loot, lives, and love all lost. Nothing is as simple as it seems. Everything has reasons, layers, and hidden aspects.

    It''s too late for me to quit. I''ve already lost my old self and found who I wanted to be. I''ll be logging in again after submitting this review.¡¯

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Game-play elements weren''t shown with significant amounts of detail. Character statistics, measurements of skills and talents were all implied but not directly described. No websites listed a class system. There was no information about quests either.

    I had seen a few online role-playing games that promised realism and personal choice, but most of those fell short. Situations were still tangibly scripted with clear boundaries and stale feeling settings. Those limited games had dwindled in popularity since Continue Online was released. Nearly two years of being curb-stomped by one game had sent more than a few companies into bankruptcy.

    I loaded up an interview tape from two years ago. There wasn''t much else available to the public, aside from screen shots without system text.

    ¡°Earlier today, the Internet was swamped by a storm of rumor and speculation.¡± A chipper woman smiled from the projection. She wore a nearly white dress and sat with the skyline of the moon colonies behind her.

    ¡°It¡¯s been an amazing few hours in terms of the sensation this news has caused,¡± her male counterpart stated. His clothes were equally pristine and the smile crossing his face almost hurt mine.

    ¡°I know. I¡¯m still a-flutter from an hour ago. These implications are huge.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be fooled by the images though. It¡¯s not the video itself that¡¯s making waves; it¡¯s the company behind it,¡± the male newscaster said and grinned.

    ¡°That¡¯s it exactly. The company behind the ARC device released this commercial amid the Super Bowl halftime show. They also provided it to news feeds, major game websites, and many other sources.¡± Her hands fluttered inches away from her body as if tethered.

    ¡°If you haven¡¯t seen it or are only now sitting down after a long day, we¡¯ll be replaying it here in a few moments. First, some highlights from the press statement ten minutes ago.¡±

    ¡°Take a look,¡± she followed up.

    The scene cut away to another room entirely.

    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen of the press, today''s statement will be brief. We are addressing only the most basic questions that may result from our video.¡± The spokesman¡¯s eyes scanned the crowd. The man at the podium looked to be slightly plump, with a very excited expression. ¡°The ARC project and its parent company, Trillium International, recently announced a joint venture. The sheer amount of computing power going into this release is officially unmatched. This even outweighs the Mars Colony Endeavors.

    ¡°To be clear. The ARC project, specifically the capsules that many people own, were designed with a single goal. This goal was separate from all the sideline benefits already achieved.¡±

    The crowd clamored for a moment over the statement before realizing no questions would be answered. Multiple people looked disappointed and frustrated but were willing to wait.

    ¡°This is a direct quote from the lead scientist behind both the ARC project and our new venture. He¡¯s not a great speaker, but we at Trillium wanted you to hear it directly from him. In the background, you¡¯ll hear his partner offering her opinion.¡±

    Audio clicked for a moment, then a new feed played. In the crowd, there was a wave of confused murmurs. People turned and looked at each other. Some scribbled notes.

    ¡°Uhh¡­ oh. Hello, everyone¡ª¡±An awkward pause ensued. The voice was male, so this must have been the lead scientist mentioned. ¡°You, many of you, have been limited in your choices. The world has been explored. The Mars Colony projects are limited and require degrees most can¡¯t afford. Maybe you wanted to make something¡ªa statue.¡±

    ¡°Who would want to make a statue?¡± There was a female voice with a snippy tone in the background. The sound of heels and frustrated mutterings could be heard.

    ¡°At least point zero five percent of them want to make a grand statue.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being recorded!¡± the woman nearly hissed.

    For a moment, the press room crowd was torn between amusement and confusion. Heads swiveled back and forth.

    ¡°Anyway, maybe you don¡¯t want to make a statue. Maybe you want to learn a martial art to use it against real people.¡± He had clearly lost his momentum and was trying to recover. The lead scientist came off as a bit flaky.

    ¡°Savages," she said.

    ¡°Or swords," he tried again.

    ¡°Barbarians.¡±

    ¡°Cake?¡±

    ¡°Is acceptable.¡± Her delayed response was almost said through gritted teeth.

    It was enough to make me smile in the van. Hal Pal had been blissfully quiet this entire time.

    ¡°Oh yes, that would be delightful. Chocolate.¡± There was a pause while the man hummed pleasantly. ¡°Anyway! The entire purpose of the ARC project is to give everyone a chance to visit a place like this. Something so real that it could be truly called another world. This is not some imitation. Not merely a place where people talk to poorly constructed machines and walk through a world that looks fake.¡±

    The female scientist muttered in the background, but it was too low to hear. The man being recorded cleared his throat. ¡°Here it is. I assure you that the clip shown earlier is based on real in-game footage. It is every bit as lifelike as anyone might desire. The world is open, truly free form, and we¡ªyou, I, anyone¡ªcan join it, after it¡¯s released.¡±

    By now, all the reporters on this recording were staring at the air, expecting a counter of some sort from the female.

    There was none, so the man continued. ¡°After it¡¯s released, become a legend.¡±

    ¡°Your ending is lame. This is why I don¡¯t like talking to the public,¡± she said.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t mean to be rude, everyone. She is right though. If swords and crafting aren¡¯t your thing, join to talk to friends. If you want to cook, everything you learn in game can be replicated in real life. It is extremely real and amazingly detailed. There are hidden races, treasures, and story lines spanning generations and entire worlds.¡±

    I could imagine the male scientist shouting with a fist up in the air in triumph.

    ¡°Worlds? I thought you said this was one world.¡±

    ¡°Shush. They don¡¯t need to know all the secrets.¡± He sounded panicked.

    ¡°Says the man who¡¯s letting the recording go on,¡± the female scientist said.

    ¡°Oh. Oh, right.¡± The male¡¯s tone shifted to sheepish. ¡°Sorry, everyone, ignore that last bit. There¡¯s no secret hidden stuff!¡±

    The clip shut off and left a confused audience. Almost as one, they realized it was over and they could launch all their questions.

    The man behind the podium waited for the noise to die down.

    ¡°I¡¯ll add a few more points. First, while that clip is less formal than we¡¯re used to¡ªfar less¡ªit is a message from the two main creators of this game. These two people have spearheaded one of the greatest technological movements of our generation. They both assured me personally that the point of all their advances was to create Continue Online.

    ¡°In case I¡¯ve made Trillium''s stance unclear with this last statement, I will rephrase. The game is much more awesome than the ARC system alone.

    ¡°I will not be outlining costs¡ªthat information is available online. I will, however, tell all of you one of the biggest decisions regarding Continue Online. This is a detail everyone at Trillium felt was imperative from the outset.¡± The man behind the podium paused and took a breath.

    ¡°Any information about the world itself will be shrouded until our management dictates otherwise. Our legal resources will engage in suppression of all game-play details outside of approved feeds. This is to ensure that everyone who chooses to play this game can honestly discover a new world rather than read about it on a forum and follow some guide. Player success will be earned through effort, not a walk-through.

    ¡°I know this part seems unfair. Details for games are almost considered public knowledge. Trillium and ARC developers know they can¡¯t suppress everything. In-game communication will be unrestricted with regards to secrets of this world.

    ¡°This next portion of the statement is from me directly. In fact, my boss will probably cancel my Christmas bonus for going off script. In the teaser released earlier today, you can see a number of players. Without going into too much detail, I myself am one of beta players. It is every bit as¡­ every bit as awesome as I might have hoped.¡± A grin was plastered on his face. Similar to the one on the male newscaster at the start of the clip, but much more heartfelt.

    ¡°This is the kind of game I¡ªI dreamed of my entire childhood, as a teenager, and only hoped for until six months ago. It makes me think, it shows me sides of myself I never expected, and it¡¯s a thrill to log into after a long day. I have failed in this game more times than I care to admit.¡± There was a pause after his embarrassing words.

    The journalists were kind enough to give a mild chuckle.

    ¡°But I¡¯ve loved every failure as much as the successes, because I get to see myself, through my character, grow.¡±

    People gave another mild cheer as the man behind the podium held up his hand.

    ¡°One last detail for everyone. Trillium has announced they will be holding a lottery for over five hundred ARC units. These will come with copies of the Ultimate Edition of Continue Online. Additional details will be announced on our website.¡±

    The clamoring started up again. People waved microphones and handsets in front of the podium, trying to get more information.

    ¡°That will be all, thank you, and I''ll see you in the game.¡±

    I sat back and rewound the video, trying to remember when it had been released. My token effort at getting an Ultimate Edition failed. I even tried throwing my name into online radio pools to be visitor number seven hundred. Nothing worked. I didn''t even walk away with a free copy of the game. An old high school friend had. He linked screenshots every now and then on his web streams, a constant blog of all the stupid stuff he found amusing in life. There were cutesy animals, political cartoons, and pictures of his character. In one screenshot, he had impaled a fish with his sword and was roasting it over flames.

    I pulled up his website while the van kept us moving toward my sister''s place. He had an entire circle of people playing Continue Online. They had pictures; he had pictures. There were short captions about the action shots, but nothing was exactly about the game. There was still nothing about levels or rankings. I had other friends who posted in much the same way. They put in words about creatures they fought and how hard some were occasionally. Even the photos seemed strangely staged.

    But extremely real. Okay, I was interested.

    I hung my head. This game was probably exactly what my prize was. A survey had been sent out three weeks ago asking what programs my fellow employees were most interested in. I dug through my e-mail trash bin and pulled out the survey results. Turned out I was the only one of my coworkers who didn¡¯t already own the game. Well, my prize might not be the game. I might be building myself up for no reason. Henry had said the others would ¡°slit their wrists.¡± They had no reason to do so for a game they already owned.

    Finally, after much confusion, and watching the videos over and over, I pulled up to my sister¡¯s house. I knocked on the door.

    My niece answered with a smile. ¡°Uncle! You¡¯re alive!¡±

    ¡°Hey, Beth, here I am! Haven¡¯t worked myself to death yet. Despite Hal¡¯s constant reminders that it might happen.¡± I smiled and put my arms out for a hug.

    She came in close and tried to squeeze the life out of my old bones. She was nearly tall enough to head butt me, but she shared her mother¡¯s slightly smaller frame. Beth had grown in the last few years. It seemed like every time I showed up, there was another surprise. At least the hair dying phase was showing signs of slowing.

    We stood at the door and chatted a little bit.

    ¡°So how¡¯s your mom?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s doing good.¡±

    ¡°She home?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Speak of the devil. The stairs¡¯ creakiness betrayed my sister coming to check the door. Their house was a split-level in the suburbs. Pricing was a bit cheaper for a dwelling out here.

    ¡°Oh shit, Grant, you¡¯re here!¡± My sister came down the stairs looking slightly disheveled.

    I smiled and gave a half-wave, half-shrug. ¡°You know, had some spare time. Figured I¡¯d drop by and see how life was going.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s going good.¡± She looked thoughtful for a moment. ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s up there with Jake.¡±

    My sister stomped her foot and glared at Beth. ¡°Young lady!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. At least one of the Legates is getting some.¡± I smirked.

    ¡°Grant!¡± There was a slight blush to her cheeks while my sister tried to be a proper mother. Too bad my niece was a teen and probably knew as much about the whole process as her mother did. The Internet hadn¡¯t exactly hidden information despite numerous attempts by Congress.

    ¡°So Jake''s doing fine then?¡± I grinned at my sister. She was a few minutes older than I, and we¡¯d never moved past the teenage nagging stage.

    ¡°He¡¯s doing great.¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°I really dropped by to ask Beth some things about her ARC. So I¡¯ll let you get back to Jake and keep things¡±¡ªI tried not grin too hard¡ª¡°fine.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡ª¡± My sister looked like she wanted to tear something from the wall and throw it at me. ¡°Next time, call ahead!¡± She ran back up the stairs.

    ¡°Tell Jake I said hi!¡± I shouted after her.

    ¡°Go to hell, Grant!¡±

    I chuckled. She often had the same sort of commentary for me back in high school. Mostly when she was sneaking boyfriends over and our parents were out for the night. Turnabout was expected from a family member. Beth and I paused our conversation while my sister finished her trek back to her upstairs room and slammed the door.

    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t have answered the phone anyway,¡± my niece said with an exaggerated whisper. She stepped back and let us into the house.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. Your mom''s allowed to have boyfriends.¡±

    ¡°I know. But maybe not Jake.¡±

    I laughed at her response. ¡°He¡¯s doing fine.¡± Harassing family was a tradition. Honestly, I had no clue who Jake was or why he might not be suitable for my sister.

    ¡°Ugh.¡±

    ¡°What about you? Any young men I should meet? Or ones I have to scare off with a shotgun?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a little archaic. My social studies teacher would say you¡¯re a backward thinking man.¡± Beth shook her head with a smile.

    ¡°Sorry, channeling your grandfather for a moment.¡±

    My niece laughed happily. ¡°He said the same thing actually.¡±

    ¡°The backward-thinking part?¡±

    ¡°No, the shotgun.¡± Beth tilted her head. ¡°Do you really have a shotgun?¡±

    ¡°Not telling.¡± I smiled down at her. Then frowned, and went through other faces to try and distract my niece. It used to work years ago.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a baby anymore.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still smiling though,¡± I said.

    ¡°Did you really come by to visit me?¡± She almost sounded timid. Beth wasn¡¯t that sort. She took after her mother¡ªattitude a mile long and a fist trailing behind that.

    ¡°Yep¡±

    ¡°Because of the ARC?¡± She tilted her head.

    ¡°Yep!¡±

    ¡°But you paid for mine, and you know more about them than I do. Isn¡¯t that your job?¡±

    The company discount had helped me afford a personal ARC for Beth. I also helped my father by chipping in on her college fund. The deal was that grades came first. Beth was taking advantage of the ARC¡¯s time dilation to study.

    ¡°I don¡¯t actually use mine for much besides a few programs,¡± I admitted.

    ¡°Why not? There¡¯s so much you can do with them.¡±

    ¡°I just¡ª¡± Haven¡¯t felt the need or desire? Haven¡¯t felt right playing games in general? Felt like I was tainting a promise made years ago? ¡°I recently won something from work. And it got me thinking.¡±

    ¡°What did you win?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet¡ªit¡¯s on my home ARC¡ªbut I think it¡¯s a copy of Continue Online.¡± My eyebrows lifted, and I gave a partial shrug.

    ¡°Oh my god, Uncle, really? Are you finally going to play?¡± Beth was nearly hopping around the room.

    ¡°If that¡¯s what the prize is, sure. You know I¡¯d never buy it for myself.¡±

    ¡°Mom said the same thing. We were going to get you a copy for Christmas this year.¡± Christmas wasn¡¯t too far away. It would have been a perfect present.

    ¡°Is it really that good?¡± I asked.

    My niece flubbed over her words for a moment before righting herself. ¡°Yes.¡± She managed to get a single word out before laughter overtook her. ¡°You¡¯ve never seen it in person?¡±

    ¡°No. Only the online ads and a few reviews.¡± All my knowledge of the game came from working on people¡¯s ARCs and the few videos I had watched in the van.

    ¡°Do you have one of those Second Player helms?¡±

    ¡°I do, I think. Hal normally makes sure we have at least one,¡± I said.

    ¡°Get it, and meet me downstairs.¡±

    ¡°If you say so, munchkin.¡±

    My niece was so excited that the nickname went by unremarked. I went out to the van and slid open the back. Hal Pal was on standby, but I could see the light signaling mild awareness.

    ¡°Hal, be a Pal and check out one VRH Two for temporary personal use.¡± I felt clever for using the old commercial jingle from when Hal Pals were first released.

    Hal Pal blinked, then reached out one arm to undo the security locks on our panel of parts and plug-ins. Out came a full helmet that used to only be found on motorcycle riders. A burnished red line ran vertically as mild decoration.

    ¡°Yes, User Legate. Please remember to file a feedback form upon return.¡± Hal Pal carefully handed over the device.

    Trillium and the ARC project both demanded feedback forms when employees used new equipment. I took the VRH Two and braced myself for the deceptive weight. The thing was heavy as a bowling ball, but once on and logged in, it would be strangely comfortable. The other reviewers stated they experienced no neck pain.

    I had only used it once, and that was a job to fix someone¡¯s program. It was also one of the most awkward things my job had ever subjected me to. The client''s program hadn¡¯t worked right, but only in a specific spot with a specific, ugh, movement. Turned out the program hadn¡¯t been intended to bend that way. Part of me was convinced the guy got off on getting me to ride along.

    I tried not to shudder at the memory and trudged inside. My footsteps would drown out any other noises in the house. Soundproofing had become nearly standard for most modern houses. This one was from the late eighties and had probably missed some of the neater materials on the market.

    Beth was already sitting on the edge of her ARC. Her feet almost didn''t touch the floor.¡°It¡¯s okay, Uncle Grant. You can¡¯t hear anything from here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that¡¯s why she gave you the far bedroom.¡±

    ¡°Only a few more years and I¡¯ll be done with college, then I can move out.¡± Beth shrugged and tried to sound positive.

    I remembered moving out. It involved a lot of drinking and roommates who were questionable on a good day. Good times.

    ¡°So how are we doing this?¡± I rolled the Second Player helm around and tried to remember how it was used. There¡ªa plug to go into one of the ARC''s ports. From there we would have a wireless connection.

    ¡°I¡¯ll dive into the game. You can watch as a secondary,¡± she said.

    My brow crinkled in confusion. ¡°I thought they were trying to be secretive about this stuff.¡±

    ¡°On some things, the game''s super tight-lipped, but even Trillium can¡¯t stop word-of-mouth and someone watching it directly. I mean, they could¡­¡± She looked thoughtful for a moment. ¡°I guess they don¡¯t care that much?¡±

    ¡°Well, lucky me. I can see it and debate if I¡¯m ever going to actually play.¡± I tried not to commit too much.

    ¡°You better play, Uncle Grant!¡±

    ¡°All right, all right. I don¡¯t even know if that¡¯s what I won from work. Let¡¯s see it.¡±

    Beth smiled and lay down in the ARC. She had wristbands on each arm and one around each ankle. The key one was a band that went along the top part of her spine. It was kept close to the spinal column and could read nearly every signal that went down.

    I pointed at her ankles. ¡°You¡¯re using those?¡±

    ¡°The wrist and feet?¡± She raised an eyebrow in confusion.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I hadn¡¯t played a game that required them. ¡°I¡¯ve seen them for those exercise programs.¡±

    ¡°Part of the program. Gives you some feedback. If you do something that exerts a lot in the game, you¡¯ll feel it in real life.¡± Beth smiled.

    ¡°Why on earth would you want that?¡± Bodily exercise while playing a game sounded painful.

    ¡°Uncle Grant, I¡¯m not this fit because I go to a gym all day.¡±

    I thought about it while Beth lay back and dialed in her machine. VRH Two, also known as a Second Player helm, plugged right into the middle panel on the ARC device. Slumping against Beth¡¯s ARC would be slightly more comfortable than sitting on the floor. I slipped the Second Player helm over my head and tried not to think about the pudge that had built around my stomach. Maybe if I had invested in a better dance program this waistline would have lost a few inches.

    That actually sounded kind of attractive. Play a game, dance a little, work out in the process. I would need to dial back my real-life activities. Working a job like mine for so many hours would be rough if I was sore the entire day. Only Hal Pal¡¯s constant heavy lifting would make this diabolical plot work.

    The Second Player helm wasn¡¯t as good as full immersion. Smells and taste were hard to replicate with only the headset technology, so most of what I¡¯d get was visual with a ghost of tactile sensation. There was a reason the Alternate Reality Capsule required five hundred pounds of hardware. Comfort was only about twenty percent.

    ¡°Log me in¡± Beth apparently preferred the vocal command over the physical interface I used.

    My visor went black, and moments later, Beth¡¯s Atrium came into view. Everything she saw, I saw. It wasn¡¯t like being myself in a game. This was me piggybacking on another person¡¯s feed while still having my own mind.

    ¡°Load Continue Character, delayed intro five,¡± she said.

    ¡°Commands loaded,¡± the ARC program responded.

    I was thrown off by the voice her ARC used. The deep tones reminded me of someone from my childhood who used to do movies. The name was hard to place.

    I wasn¡¯t too surprised when Beth''s eyes flicked over to a wall of posters with men on them or when she paused and looked in the mirror. Her character didn¡¯t look much different from her. The ears were slightly pointy, belying an elf or something similarly fantastic.

    ¡°Huh,¡± I said.

    ¡°Everything coming through okay, Uncle Grant?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Are you an elf?¡±

    ¡°No, demon¡ªhalf-demon, I think, technically. I was transformed from human to this after a long chain quest and reputation grinding.¡± Her answer was longer than expected.

    ¡°Weird,¡± I said. A half-demon race of some sort might explain the very faint sunburn that lined her character¡¯s skin. Beth, as a child, had been the outdoorsy type. Though when I saw her at the door a few minutes ago it was pretty clear her tan had lapsed a lot.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± She waved her arms and did a few basic stretches.

    I was stuck staring at the mirror, watching her. Staring at my niece for so long was really awkward. She scanned up and down the clothes. The top was fairly loose and flowing. The pants were almost cutoffs. I could see leather pads over her knees, shoulders, and elbows. Nothing here restricted her range of motion.

    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s enough,¡± I said as she started another round of awkward warm ups while staring at herself.

    ¡°Oh shit. Sorry.¡± Beth laughed. ¡°Habit. Stretching helps me move easier once in the game.¡±

    ¡°All right. I get that.¡± Like a baseball player doing practice swings to loosen their shoulders.

    ¡°So Second Player will pick up nearly everything in-game. I tend to play in a partial immersion mode, so most of the extra stuff, like Guild chat and whispers is minimal,¡± she explained as one arm waved. Beth was flicking through screens and pressing options that said Off and On, though I didn''t have enough time to read them all.

    ¡°There are guilds? And you can chat with them from anywhere?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± she said.

    ¡°That seems to counter this realism claim.¡±

    ¡°You can play with everything off if you want, and guess at your stats and health. There are all sorts of features. Pain levels, skill assists, even uhhh¡­¡± My niece''s voice drifted off.

    ¡°What¡¯s uhh¡­?¡± I joked.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say some of the features are very real, and more than slightly adult.¡±

    ¡°Say no more. Uncle Grant can do without you explaining how real interpersonal actions can get.¡± Never did I want to deal with that sort of issue. I remembered when my sister called me up and nearly broke down trying to handle my niece¡¯s questions. Skinned knees and school projects were child¡¯s play compared to the sex talk.

    ¡°Some guys are, uhh¡­¡±

    ¡°Beth.¡± I really didn''t want to hear her go on about this particular subject.

    ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Even if I wanted to do that sort of thing,¡±¡ªand I hadn¡¯t tried more than once since my fianc¨¦e¡ª¡°I wouldn¡¯t look for it in a game. So that aspect doesn¡¯t interest me.¡±

    ¡°All right. I only mention it because some players dress really provocatively.¡±

    ¡°Why, Beth, I¡¯m proud that you know such a complex word,¡± I said.

    She laughed, and I smiled. We were back on comfortable ground. It made sense why she would try to warn me though. If everything was as realistic as her character in the mirror, then that aspect would certainly get a lot of attention, and not only among teenage males. I tried to keep my sigh quiet.

    ¡°I¡¯ll head in. I think I left myself on autopilot in the city.¡±

    ¡°Auto what?¡±

    Beth had wandered over to the Continue Online game. She picked up the book-sized representation from its shelf and tossed it at a wall, which activated the software. What had once been a smooth piece of digital plaster was now a doorway. That was actually a lot more interesting than how I loaded my simple dance program.

    ¡°Autopilot. It¡¯s a log-off feature. It allows your character to keep interacting with Arcadia while you¡¯re out.¡±

    ¡°Why would that matter?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You get little bonuses and reputation points. Plus for people who have school, like me, or work, like you, we can¡¯t be online all day every day. Though some people are crazy about it. You get more points personally than autopilot will give you.¡± She said all that as if talking to herself while in a virtual world. Sometimes the ARC device made things seem really odd.

    ¡°That¡¯s new,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yep!¡± She put one hand on the doorway and pressed heavily into the wall. ¡°Display in-game.¡±

    The side of the wall lit up and showed her character sitting on a park bench. It wore the same clothes Beth had on now and was weaving a series of strings together.

    ¡°Huh?¡± I didn¡¯t know what to expect, but seeing a virtual version of Beth sitting calmly would never have made the list.

    ¡°The computer AI will try to get your avatar to a neutral point once you¡¯re logged into the Atrium. That way there¡¯s not any confusion,¡± my niece answered.

    That didn¡¯t clear up my confusion. I made a few noises and kept watching. This was a wealth of information that wasn¡¯t on any website I had seen. Experiencing it first hand, Second Headset, was useful. Even if I didn¡¯t get a copy of Continue Online from work, I might pick up a copy later.

    ¡°Ready?¡±

    ¡°Sure. This stuff is useful, but I haven¡¯t seen the actual game,¡± I said.

    ¡°Right.¡±

    She leapt through the doorway and the ground fell away. Below, a globe similar to Earth rapidly approached.

    ¡°Whoa. Whoa. Whoooooooooooaaaa.¡± I did not like the free fall feeling. My heart rate sped up. My hands clenched in panic, and I tried to reassure myself that the bedroom floor was still present.

    ¡°Gets you racing, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Beth yelled against the wind, miles up as the ground grew closer and closer.

    ¡°Don¡¯t panic!¡± Images of impending doom drove cross my brain. Choices range from burning up in the atmosphere, landing and becoming a pile of mush, or a belly flop to end all belly flops.

    We got closer. Beth was looking around for me, adjusting the in game vision. She looked over to the ocean. ¡°Look at that! You see it?¡± The wind whipped by and ruffled her clothes. ¡°I keep telling my friends there¡¯s something in the water out there! It¡¯s huge!¡±

    Her vision showed a giant ocean between continents. For a moment, it looked as if giant waves surged out of nowhere. A portion of water was darker than the others and almost seemed to crawl.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s awesome! I¡¯ll get the skills to go out there before the end of college!¡± she shouted with a confidence only teenagers could feel.

    I was going to say frightening.

    ¡°Look up there!¡± Beth flipped around while falling.

    I was busy watching the approaching ground out of the helmet''s peripheral vision. She seemed oblivious to my fears of falling from such a height.

    ¡°Is that¡­?¡± I honed in on the giant object floating above us.

    ¡°A moon? Yep! Like the colonies! I bet we can explore it too! There¡¯s an entire guild dedicated to reaching it!¡±

    That was admittedly neater than a giant whatever-that-was in the ocean.

    ¡°Does it always take this long to get into the game?¡± I took a few deep breaths to steady myself. I felt carpet beneath my fingers and a dresser in the way of my feet. Visually, everything felt insane with Beth''s dive from the heavens.

    ¡°Nope! We¡¯re doing a longer log-in for you!¡±

    The air changed. Sounds were different. Beth stayed lying backward. I actually liked looking at the moon¡ªit was far more calming than an approaching planet.

    ¡°Can you do this every time?¡± A moon without buildings on it seemed almost innocent. It reminded me of childhood. I had taken the natural moon for granted.

    ¡°Yep! Well, I can. It''s from a trait!¡± Her shouts were muffled by the wind.

    I might be sold already.

    ¡°Landddinnnggg!¡± The drop felt like hitting the softest, fluffiest bed ever known. Beth¡¯s blinking created pauses in our visual connection. I blinked a few times myself and took steadying breaths.

    ¡°Huh. Rope,¡± she said.

    Multiple messages popped into view and Beth looked at them one by one. They were status updates on her time in autopilot.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Losses

    Resource: 7 Gold, 8 Silver, 54 Copper

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What the?¡± I said. These messages looked very out of place, floating like modern holograms in a fantasy world. I knew it was fantasy because of the commercial and few videos online. If that wasn¡¯t a clue, the tip of a sword on Beth¡¯s waist or people walking around old houses on cobblestone roads might be a clue.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Gains

    Item: 20'' Rope ¨C Spider Silk (Common)

    Item(s): Multiple low-level herbs

    Item(s): Two meal vouchers

    Fan base has increased (Now: 42)

    +40 [Fame] (Partial credit due to autopilot)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Sorry, they¡¯re basic-looking compared to everything else. I can¡¯t keep the game world separate without something obvious,¡± my niece said.

    I nodded. The rest of the world was so visually stunning that these notification windows felt out of place. Almost like laughing in the face of realism.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Away Time

    2 Days, 14 Hours, 34 Minutes

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°There¡¯re other interface methods. One of my friends from high school has all of his pop up on a scroll he carries around. He¡¯s super into the realism aspect and pretends he can only look at his stats once a week.¡± Beth was chewing her lip. It was the same action my sister and I performed when thinking.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°Neat? You always say neat,¡± she responded.

    ¡°If you say so, munchkin.¡± My tone sounded resigned. I did say neat a lot.

    ¡°Uncle Grant¡­¡±

    ¡°What else is there? Are those event notices? Like you did something while offline?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah. The autopilot records what kind of player you are and acts accordingly. Here¡¯s a funny one.¡± Beth swung our combined vision over to one of the notices floating nearby.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Event!

    Musical Mess

    During your music recital, things didn''t go as planned. When it came time for the solo there were no less than three mistakes. As a result, you went on an eating binge and grew even more depressed while poking at your belly and frowning. Furthermore, someone at the main square recognized you as the girl ''whose voice cracked'' during your big solo. (See [Fame] gains)

    You''ve spent the last two hours putting your handcraft and sewing skills to good use by making a rope to hang yourself with.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Beth.¡± I tried not to sound too worried by what had been displayed. Funny wasn¡¯t the right word to describe those words.

    ¡°Son of a bitch!¡± she swore as if remembering something.

    ¡°Should we talk about that event notice?¡±

    ¡°What? No, I missed the choir recital. It¡¯s not that serious. I could have gained a lot of points toward my singing abilities though.¡±

    There had been a skills window and another one with points going toward various character statistics. I barely saw an [Endurance] bonus go up little before she shoved it away.

    ¡°And this thing said you tried to hang yourself. Doesn¡¯t autopilot act like you play?¡± I tried to skirt the issue but still get an answer.

    ¡°My character did that, not me! I was away.¡± Her vision went downward as the rope¡ªI guessed the twenty feet of spider silk¡ªwent into a backpack she had swung off from behind her. ¡°If it¡¯d been me for real, I would have aced that event.¡±

    ¡°So you don¡¯t play like a depressed, emotionally unstable teenager? That was all the autopilot?¡± Just how dense was Uncle Grant in her world?

    ¡°Yeah. It kind of reads into things¡­¡± A few other boxes appeared on her screen, and she flicked them off into oblivion. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡±

    ¡°Can you walk around?¡± I didn¡¯t really even know how to approach that suicide message. Those situations should be passed to my sister. Maybe it was serious, or maybe it was her being a bit crazy in-game.

    ¡°Sure. Oh, I know! I¡¯ll show you the starter area. It should be fairly empty.¡±

    ¡°I thought they were always full,¡± I said.

    ¡°Maybe in other games. Continue only lets you have one character. But it¡¯s cool because you can learn whatever skills you want to,¡± Beth responded happily.

    ¡°Like that singing one?¡± The two in the message¡ªhandcraft and sewing¡ªwere other probable professions. Each one likely went with the type of action being performed. At least the naming methodology for skills was straight forward.

    ¡°Yep!¡± Beth said while running down a seemingly random path.

    She dodged through tons of people talking casually. Others were looking at shelves of items in stalls. Some were lying down and chatting away. My face felt cool. A gust of wind pelted against one side, then the other as we shifted around objects in our path.

    ¡°How do you know where you¡¯re going?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Memory!¡±

    We kept right on cruising through the town. There was a slight jarring sensation as she pounded across the cobblestone.

    ¡°No map? Or some sort of navigation?¡± I felt confused. At least my voice wasn''t interrupted by the rush of movement.

    ¡°Nothing I own. They¡¯re all player-made,¡± Beth responded.

    ¡°That¡¯s weird.¡±

    In the games of my youth, everything had a map. Except a few professed hardcore ones that were more puzzlers than anything else. For those games, players did some exploration. Most of it was figuring out which area was safe and slowly building up to the harder zones. Maybe this was the same. There had been a few games whose entire purpose seemed to be trapping and killing the player. Getting through to the other side was a test of sanity.

    Truth be told, everything looked real enough to blow me away. The touch feedback wasn¡¯t quite there thanks to the Second Player helm, but Continue Online''s visuals were amazing. Especially considering Beth wasn¡¯t moving slowly; she darted around with an incredible speed.

    ¡°What class moves like this?¡± I asked.

    ¡°There are no classes, Uncle. You play however you want. Skills are unlocked based on what you demonstrate and focus on. Instead, you¡¯re ranked along a Path that is based on your skills.¡± Beth did a spin around two people that made me feel dizzy for a moment. My dance program taught me fancy moves but they didn¡¯t involve real people moving along unpredictable paths.

    ¡°Paths?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll probably have to cut short some of the explanations. There¡¯s a safety when doing Second Player mode that will penalize me.¡±

    ¡°So the machine''s listening to you talk to me?¡± I said.

    ¡°Yep. So you can ask me outside of the game, but I¡¯ll probably be in here a while once I¡¯ve shown you some stuff.¡± Beth sounded amused, but I couldn¡¯t see her expression with a Second Player helm. The equipment put me in a first-person view.

    ¡°On a school night?¡± It was Tuesday. Tuesdays still were school nights, right? I didn¡¯t really pay attention to what classes Beth was taking.

    ¡°Time runs fast inside. There¡¯s a compression rate of four-to-one. One minute out there is four in here. I load up my homework while traveling.¡± She managed to talk almost naturally while running full-bore.

    I could feel the hint of effort being put into her movements. Legs touching down, each stride almost a leap. Gazelles would lunge the same way from location to location. Finally, barely short of breath, she came upon a nearly empty square.

    ¡°That¡¯s far too convenient,¡± I said.

    Being able to do homework in here was unfair. Even my dance program didn¡¯t compress things to such an insane level. What happened after a year of this¡ªor three or four? Mentally, a person would have lived a decade, and real life would have only passed two years and change. Such a concept was absolutely beyond belief. Of course, so were printed cars that drove themselves.

    ¡°Welcome to the future, Uncle Grant.¡±

    I heard the noise before the visual input really registered. Beth was looking, so I was looking, but the moment took a minute to click.

    Once it did, my jaw dropped. We were on a pavilion nearly midway up a roaring half-circle waterfall. The top of the waterfall was so high up that it covered the dais with mist. Water kept right on rushing down toward a destination I couldn¡¯t make out.

    ¡°Whoa.¡±

    ¡°Like it?¡± She walked closer to the edge and looked up and down.

    ¡°I love it.¡± This was different, yet as breathtaking as the moon shots. There was an awe-inspiring serenity to her surroundings. Noise from the flow drowned out nearly everything else, forcing my attention to one spot.

    ¡°All the starting areas I¡¯ve been to are incredible.¡±

    ¡°Where does that cliff go?¡± I questioned.

    ¡°Down a lonnnnnnng way. The bottom is a higher-level zone. There¡¯s a dungeon down there I¡¯m going to challenge with a friend. The top is a bit closer to intro ranks.¡± Beth laughed and waved at some of the other people sitting around.

    ¡°How did you find that out?¡±

    ¡°Oh, first thing I did when I logged on was jump off that cliff at least a dozen times!¡± She was leaning over the edge and yelling to be heard. Thankfully her sound was all locked within the ARC or my sister would probably have been breaking down the door.

    ¡°Like the free-fall entrance?¡±

    ¡°Best rush ever!¡± Beth answered.

    ¡°There were no penalties?¡±

    ¡°Nah. There¡¯s nothing like that until you¡¯ve got your first rank. After that, things can get harsh.¡± She backed away from the edge and sat on a bench.

    The environment was much quieter farther away from the waterfall. People were passing through, going about what seemed like routine tasks. One woman held buckets of food. Another woman was trying to convince some squat mule with extra horns to drag a cart. The thing¡¯s abnormally rounded ears kept twitching toward the water.

    ¡°If I died now, I¡¯d have to deal with all sorts of stuff,¡± Beth said. ¡°My path ranks are all over the board.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ harsh?¡±

    ¡°Different people play the game different ways. Some people I know rushed their combat skills. Others couldn¡¯t handle the monsters, so they stuck with trade skills. Everyone finds a pace they like.¡±

    ¡°This is nice though.¡±

    ¡°You can watch it for a while if you want. I¡¯ll leave the feed on for you while I take care of some homework,¡± Beth offered.

    I grunted a positive reply after realizing Beth couldn¡¯t see me nod. For a long time, I stared at the waterfall, admiring the mist. To my side was enough clear space for couples to dance. Music would have been perfect. Tears slowly invaded my vision, though not from Beth¡¯s feedback. My fianc¨¦e would have loved it here. She had been the adventurous one, and this world would have been perfect.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Three - Christmas in July

    ¡°Grant. You all right?¡±

    Metallic rapping woke me with a snort. I started to mumble my reply.

    ¡°Huh? What? No. It¡¯s all sis¡¯s idea. I swear.¡±

    My reaction was half coherent as I tried to string together where I was. Aches and pains crawled up my spine from where I had fallen asleep.

    ¡°Sure it is, Grant. Still trying to blame me. Mom never believed you then, and she won¡¯t believe you now,¡± my sister said with a glare that I could only feel.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who tried to set the cat on fire.¡±

    ¡°That. Fucking. Cat tore up my best dress.¡± Her finger jabbed my still-sitting form.

    ¡°Sniffles did no such thing.¡± This heavy helmet made conversing feel outright silly. I grabbed at both sides and lifted it away. After being logged into Continue, the real world felt colorless and dull. ¡°Oh, this place.¡± I squinted upward at my sister. ¡°Hi, Liz.¡±

    Both my sister and her daughter were named Elizabeth. Neither one went by it. Liz had darker hair like I did, but Beth''s was a lighter brown.

    ¡°You have fun in there?¡±

    ¡°It was neat.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll bet. Beth doesn¡¯t know it, but I sneak down and watch sometimes. That girl has packed more action into her life than either of us.¡± Her head shook slowly, slipping her shoulder-length hair about.

    ¡°She¡¯s a regular thrill-seeker.¡±

    ¡°You can see it now. She¡¯s crawling around in a dungeon with that boy.¡± Liz waved over the ARC¡¯s external screen to peek in on the action. That sort of thing was only possible with parental controls. Beth may technically be the adult, but Liz still took care of her in nearly every way. ¡°Bet she¡¯ll come screaming out of there starving again, grab a plate of food, and crawl back inside.¡± Liz mimed extreme hunger by crossing her arms above her belly.

    ¡°She¡¯s still doing okay with her classes, right?¡±

    ¡°Oh sure. Her grades are the only thing I have to hold over her. She keeps them up and I can¡¯t object to her playing. Even if I don¡¯t like that¡­ boy.¡±

    I followed her poking finger to the ARC display. I moved the Second Player helm out of my way so I could lean in closer. ¡°Is that a mage?¡±

    I squinted at the tiny projection showing what my niece was doing in-game. The display showed some weird cat-guy dodging around the screen while Beth¡¯s character chanted a whole number of things with flashy effects.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I guess? She¡¯s always doing something with Sir Fuzzy over there. Seems like a waste of time to me.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s doing a music thing too.¡± I remembered the event that Beth had mentioned. The one she missed while being logged out and doing whatever it was teenage girls did when they weren¡¯t monster-slaying.

    ¡°I figured there was something. She¡¯s been humming to herself half the time when she¡¯s not plugged in. Thank god for time restrictions or I¡¯d never see her.¡±

    I shook my head slowly. ARC was addictive. Adults at least had to earn money and pay bills in order to stay online. Kids with unlimited access would be even worse. My sister was smart enough to keep the restrictions active.

    Thank goodness food inside the machine wasn¡¯t real. Stuff could go down a virtual gullet all day and never remove actual hunger.

    ¡°So you going to play?¡± Liz was scowling at the visual display. She jerked to the side and muttered as a charging animal went by. Moments later, the fuzzy form of whatever cat-man Beth had hooked up with flew in and tackled the beast.

    ¡°If I won what I think I did, sure.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯d never buy it for yourself.¡± My sister shook her head and frowned.

    ¡°You know me. I don¡¯t really buy myself things. Not since¡­¡±

    ¡°Right. She-who-shall-not-be-named. How were things with Elane? Didn''t you date her for a while?¡±

    Elane had been a bad idea by Liz. I hadn¡¯t been emotionally stable and was barely into my twelve step program. Elane had her own issues. Putting us together had been explosive all around.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t work out,¡± I said.

    Liz looked at me and frowned by chewing at her lip. That was a habit she¡¯d had since childhood. Normally it meant she was trying not to say something on the tip of her tongue.

    I turned the conversation away from my woes and back to Liz. ¡°How about you and Jake? He only rated a fine on the performance meter.¡±

    She was wearing a T-shirt and pajama bottoms, which meant there would be no further social interaction with people outside the family. ¡°We won¡¯t work out.¡±

    There was no heartbreak in her tone. I hadn¡¯t even had a chance to harass the guy with a baseball bat.

    ¡°Already?¡±

    ¡°Mind your business, little brother,¡± she said.

    ¡°Uh huh.¡± Turnabout was never fair play, according to the sibling rule book. As the slightly younger brother, I would never win. Still, it felt nice to talk to someone outside of work.

    ¡°You headed home soon?¡±

    ¡°I should.¡± I flicked my wrist and looked at the default time display. We had been logged in for two hours. With the perception dilation inside, Beth had been playing for at least eight. Time enough for sunset to start in the real world.

    ¡°Come on then¡ªa coffee before you go. We can chat about our terrible love lives.¡± Liz gestured toward the stairs.

    ¡°I¡¯m always up for a good pity party with family.¡±

    That was a lie. My father was made of stone and had little sympathy. Mom was equally flustered by emotional upheaval and spouted the same five lines whenever confronted.

    I switched the headset to my other arm and gestured to the ARC.

    ¡°Has she done anything¡­¡± Word choice was paramount. Harassing my sister was one thing, but broaching family issues was another. ¡°To worry you, in the game or real life?¡±

    ¡°Not that I¡¯ve seen. Why?¡±

    We paused our escape from Beth''s room.

    ¡°Here.¡±

    I looped back the ARC¡¯s feed and tried not to feel like this action involved betraying my niece. Then again, we were, in theory, the adults and she was still growing up, even if she had turned eighteen last year. She had to be of legal age to play Continue, but that said nothing about her mentality. Moments later, I flickered across the event message, then zoomed in on the ARC display using parental controls and memory files.

    ¡°Mh.¡± Liz showed reluctance to comment.

    ¡°She said it¡¯s the autopilot. I guess it takes over when Beth''s out here.¡± I tried not to downplay or act panicked. My sister had more than once suggested I mind my own business over the years.

    ¡°Beth explained that to me.¡± My sister wasn¡¯t stupid, but she didn''t know because she didn¡¯t play the game. Liz tended to stick to television shows and artwork. As a result, there was only one ARC in the house.

    ¡°I guess the computer takes note of how you play and acts that out while on autopilot,¡± I said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on it, but it¡¯s probably nothing. Beth¡¯s killed herself in-game more times than I can count, doing stupid daredevil moves. It¡¯s probably related to that.¡± Liz chewed on the inside of her lip. It was a familiar action that I had mirrored many times since we were born.

    I could only shrug.

    ¡°I¡¯m only letting you know. If it becomes serious, and you want my help, I¡¯m only a drive away.¡±

    ¡°Okay, Grant.¡±

    ¡°And I have¡­¡±¡ªa tender subject, like all the others relating to my life a few years ago¡ª¡°experience with this stuff.¡±

    ¡°I remember. You forget who was there for the court appointments, who drove you to the meetings, who had to come over to your house and clean it up. I was there, so don¡¯t act like I wasn¡¯t.¡±

    She managed not to sound extremely upset, but as her twin, the annoyance was clear to me. Remembering the past made me cringe. My sister had helped me recover from the lowest point of my life.

    ¡°You helped get me back on my feet.¡± She also helped me find a new job and suggested a place to live. Somewhere hours away from my old house and the memories, but close enough that family was near. ¡°And I love you for it, Liz, but I¡ª¡± Jesus, I was tearing up. ¡°I lived it. I don¡¯t want her to ever be there. So if you need me¡ª¡± My jaw started to clench.

    ¡°Shut up, Grant. I know.¡± My sister wasn¡¯t good with raw emotions. Dad had taught us dedicated work ethics and how to clear a yard, but we weren''t raised to deal with anything like social interaction.

    ¡°Right.¡± I tried to wipe my face with my free arm and brush away the mess my eyes had become. ¡°How about that coffee?¡±

    ¡°Come on.¡± Liz led the way, giving me time to get my game face back on.

    I made my way up the stairs to the kitchen, on the same floor as her bedroom and the front room.

    ¡°One coffee, sugar, and single creamer. Cool it down a little,¡± Liz spoke into a device on the counter. Further down the line, a machine started and a whir of liquid poured into a cup. ¡°Still going to your meetings?¡±

    ¡°I check in with my sponsor weekly,¡± I said while nodding.

    ¡°And the counselor?¡± Her worry was obvious even while we calmly sipped coffee.

    ¡°Every two weeks.¡±

    ¡°Think you¡¯ll be able to do all that, work, and still play a game?¡±

    ¡°My boss suggested I take some vacation time. I guess I¡¯ve been working too hard. Even Hal Pal has voiced his concerns.¡± An AI voicing concern about me overworking made her laugh.

    ¡°But you don¡¯t actually know if you got this game.¡± Her tone turned vaguely questioning at the end.

    ¡°Not really. It could be a virtual gopher for all I know. Or maybe a cat. I could name him Sniffles the Second.¡± My smirk would be pretty clear through the coffee''s slight steam. ¡°I¡¯ll overfeed him and load up dresses for him to claw at.¡±

    ¡°God, I hope it¡¯s not a cat. I hate cats.¡± She closed her eyes in mock prayer.

    ¡°It¡¯s probably not a cat. Probably.¡± A cat might be amusing. I could link the virtual pet with Beth¡¯s ARC and let it meow like crazy whenever Liz got too close.

    ¡°Well, finish your coffee, and go find out.¡±

    Liz made me chuckle. She was barely older, a little taller, and as messed up as I was, but for different reasons. Being twins meant we knew better than most siblings where the emotional buttons were. I had been there when her husband ran off when Beth was only a year old.

    We parted with a hug.

    I advised Hal Pal to get us home and spent the time flipping through more public videos of the game. Beth had alluded to a lot of customization to the personal interface, so instead of looking for direct footage, I tried to sift through lesser sites. There were a few shaky clips plus deleted comments with messages of web forum bans.

    General information spoke about a few skills. The press release had stated all sorts of abilities from the game could be used in real life. Beth had mentioned her singing and Liz vouched for excessive humming.

    What could I do skill-wise? Dance?

    I laughed out loud, imagining dancing enemies into submission. Classic dance moves from ¡°Thriller¡± might help me blend in with zombie hordes. I could ¡°Walk Like an Egyptian¡± through tombs to avoid traps.

    Hal Pal asked me what was so alarmingly humorous. Explaining why I found dancing against monsters in a video game so amusing didn¡¯t register on Hal Pal¡¯s programming though. He pleasantly acknowledged my explanation and informed me how much time was remaining until arriving home. I checked in with my sponsor and informed her that work was giving me a vacation. Her response was vaguely positive and also held an edge of warning. Free time was dangerous for anyone who might relapse. We kept our conversation short, as always.

    Then I was home, hopping through the living room and into my bedroom. Hal Pal didn¡¯t even get a good-bye or orders to take care of our inventory. The AI would do it anyway.

    I stared at the ARC and took a few breaths. Why was the idea of opening this box so exciting? Maybe it was because it was the newest thing to happen in years. An entire world. Worlds even, according to the slip up during the press release. For the sake of argument, and to prevent a total letdown, I tried to access the gift wrapped item from my external Atrium view. It failed to unwrap. Fully diving in was my only solution.

    ¡°Wait,¡± I muttered.

    Beth had had bracelets on. I jogged back to the van, panting. I wasn¡¯t used to exercise. Maybe getting fit in this game would help me in real life.

    ¡°Hal, do we have any of the EXR-Sevens?¡±

    ¡°Three pairs. Would you like to test them as well?¡± Hal Pal inquired.

    ¡°Yes, please,¡± I said.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate. Please remember to file a feedback form upon return.¡±

    My eyes rolled. Hal Pal either didn¡¯t notice my exasperation or chose not to comment. It had before, since the AI had expression recognizing code embedded somewhere in the depths of its scripting. But AI programming was a problem for those greater than me. My polishing skills would be top notch by the end of our eventual takeover. Thoughts of shoe shining and calling robots ¡°Gov¡± put a hum in my mind.

    Bands went around both wrists. Another set went right above the ankles. Physically, they felt almost intangible. Small lights littered the outside of my sets, showing connectivity. They connected with nerve endings and registered impulses. I lay down and pressed the button. One world drifted away as if passing out. The other came into focus moments later.

    Now I was standing in my virtual Atrium, looking at a package that was entirely too big. This was Christmas come early, and I had the mentality of a five-year-old. Wrapping paper was torn into shreds. False cardboard was ripped and popcorn tossed aside as I dove into the huge box to find my prize.

    There was certainly no cat inside.

    An obsidian business card was my prize. I¡¯d dug through a giant box filled with packing peanuts for this small item? Completely illegible words were scrawled across it.

    I focused on the card and tried to understand the gibberish. Was this hand-written? Tilting the card revealed an ink-like sheen. Considering this was digital, the effect was kind of amazing. There were very definite letters, but none looked normal. They had strange bends and twists in unexpected places. This was likely an actual language, but identifying which one was beyond me.

    ¡°ARC?¡±

    ¡°User Legate. Awaiting request.¡± The ARC registered vocal commands issued while logged in. It could do text as well, popping up like Beth¡¯s in-game display had. I¡¯d turned off most of those options when I first got the ARC.

    ¡°Translate this?¡± I waved the card.

    ¡°Command not executable.¡±

    ¡°Huh?" I shook my head. But ¡°huh¡± was not a recognized keyword to the machine.

    My mind boggled at the computer¡¯s denial. Either this wasn¡¯t something that could be translated or maybe it was encrypted. "Repeat?¡±

    ¡°Command not executable.¡±

    ¡°Smug machine,¡± I muttered. Luckily it didn¡¯t have an AI like Hal Pal did.

    I flipped over the card again. The design was a deep obsidian with golden lettering that looked almost liquid. Light from the desk lamp reflected off it on to one side of my bed. I didn¡¯t have a lamp there in real life¡ª this was an adaptation from the Atrium.

    ¡°Any hints?¡± I asked the ARC interface.

    ¡°Negative, User Legate.¡±

    I lifted the box and spilled out everything. I scattered the packing material. The box was torn further, turned inside out, thrown to one side of the room. Now I was upset. All that build-up, all that interest and play time for a card that wasn¡¯t understandable.

    I ignored the blinking phone which meant I had a message. My niece¡¯s name flashed on the box, she probably wanted to know if I received the game. From one side of the room to the other went the path of virtual Styrofoam as I paced. Analyzing the packing peanuts for a pattern or other hints didn''t help me either. They looked normal and real. Packing peanuts had mostly been done away with over five years ago due to recycling concerns. This reminded me of an old test¡ªhow to keep an idiot busy. The card would read ¡°turn over¡± and have the exact same words on the backside. I flipped the card over. The backside was blank, which meant at least I was being spared that indignity.

    I logged out and stormed around my tiny house in frustration. Eventually, I logged back into the Atrium and pondered what to do. Time wasn''t condensed at this stage of the ARC. That feature was only available in certain programs.

    Finally, I noticed something odd. There was a door exiting my Atrium that hadn''t been there before. More blinks ensued as I struggled to recall the last time there had been a new installation on my ARC. Most of the programs I had used one exit point. For me, that exit point was tied to my dance program. Sports programs had never interested me, and I wasn''t one of those teenagers who felt the need to learn a martial art.

    Wait.

    The left door was lit up. My curiosity brimmed as I neared the door and ventured a peek inside. This was where my dance program was. The right door was new but completely dark. Why had the dance program initialized? Was someone else in my Atrium?

    I waved my hands and checked out the Internet connections. No visitors were inside. The only people who ever accessed it were family, and Beth was too busy murdering monsters in the very game I had hoped to be playing by now.

    "Hello?" I questioned.

    Swing music was clearly playing through the speakers. It was mostly stuff from seventy years ago, which was an era that had belonged to my great-grandparents. Long ago, I¡¯d bought that program and a few others to expand my dance skills into more genres. Never before had this program started without a command. I walked inside with my mystery card in one hand. The lights were up high, my clothes straight out of a black-and-white movie. It sounded like there was a live band playing nearby.

    The image of my computer-generated fianc¨¦e dressed in a frilly piece of clothing made me smile. That wasn¡¯t like her at all. She¡¯d worn a sundress at most and even those were rare. She waved as we made eye contact. That was new. Maybe there had been a patch without my knowledge. The ARC was good at doing that when I looked away for too long. I waved back.

    She held out a hand. I shrugged, put the card in a pocket and danced. Happily, I put the confusing mystery out of my mind for a bit. The song changed to something brisker. Soon I was swinging her around in spins, dips, and other moves practiced over endless lonely hours. Then our dance was something slower. We danced close. Her head lay against my chest, rocking to the music of another century.

    "I miss you," I whispered, trying not to feel wounded. Dancing like this made me feel as though she was still with me. Losing my sense of place was too easy. Some mornings I woke up thinking the whole terrible event had been a dream.

    "I know, Grant." Her whisper sounded exactly like every memory that had haunted me over the years.

    I pulled away in confusion. This program never spoke back. It wasn''t designed to. It couldn''t. I had uttered that confession time and time again over the years and never once heard anything in response. The computerized image of my fianc¨¦e smiled, then looked at the doorway a program shouldn''t realize was there. A heartbeat later, she went still, completely lifeless and dulled in color.

    "Babe?" Today was not my day. This was one emotional sledgehammer after another.

    Crashing came through the doorway from back in my Atrium. Then something like a metal pan spinning to a slow stop. Next was glass hitting the floor and shattering. I backed up slowly toward the door behind me while staring at the stilled image of my fianc¨¦e. Music dimmed from a signal I never sent.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Something wonky was going on.

    At the door, I turned around and tried to put her haunting portrayal behind me. To move forward and face the next problem instead of becoming stuck as I had in the past. That was what my last year of therapy had focused on. Move forward, plan accordingly, don¡¯t get stuck in the mire behind.

    My Atrium, a virtual replication of my house, was an even bigger mess than it had been. Now way more than packing peanuts was scattered across the floor. Items had been knocked off of shelves and dishes splayed all over. Normally all of this was kept in perfect order. Default Atrium programming didn''t allow broken glass.

    I had no clue where to even find a broom and dustpan. A garbage bin was easy. The Atrium had one for programs you no longer wanted. Users could pull a program down from the shelf and toss it away. Digital confirmation of an action time-honored among computers. I tried to use pieces of cardboard to clean up the shattered glass, but it went terribly.

    This place couldn''t stay messy like this though. Otherwise, once I logged in, the Atrium might try to subject me to the simulated pain of stepping on shards of glass. That should have been beyond the Atrium''s programming, but here I was cleaning up shattered dishes after hearing a computer program talk when it wasn''t programmed to. Worse, the computer had used a near-perfect replica of her voice.

    "ARC."

    "Awaiting input."

    "Can you replay what happened here?"

    "Negative." There was even an error bonk of noise. "New program interference detected. Alternate patterns have been input. Scans show all levels of local software have been impacted."

    "I only have one piece of software," I muttered. Everything else had been deleted except for a few house programs.

    My ARC was connected to the van, which had Hal Pal and a few simulated board games. Those were on a separate network, thankfully. Hal Pal''s programming was so insanely far beyond me that the thought of changing it was frightening.

    "Is it a virus?" Worry flooded me as the thought occurred far too late.

    "Scans confirm this is not the work of a virus."

    "Are you sure?" I asked.

    "Affirmative."

    "System update?" Unexpected patching might have added new features. To my knowledge, the ARC wasn''t scheduled for any overhauls soon.

    ¡°Negative.¡± The machine response sounded stiff.

    "When did this start?"

    "Recordings indicate all changes occurred after contact with the card in your pocket."

    That was pretty specific. ARC was basically admitting that whatever had been installed by the box was at fault, without telling me how long this had been going on or what exactly had changed. I checked the clock. The Atrium had been loaded for maybe thirty minutes. So far I had torn open a box, danced with my fianc¨¦e, and been subjected to an unexplained mess.

    I grabbed water and a towel from my mostly unused hot tub program. Finally, I had a use for last year''s performance award. The towel was curled around a mess of broken glass, and I slowly gathered everything up. Without a real broom, this was as close as I would get.

    "ARC."

    "Awaiting input."

    Maybe the machine could be given a new voice. An actor or someone popular might spice it up. I could look up sports commentators.

    "How much does a broom program cost?" I said.

    "Two dollars, plus taxes."

    Not worth it yet. Maybe later I would download one. I brushed another pile of glass off to the side with my rolled up towel and took a sip of the water. It had come from a hose spigot outside with the hot tub. Luckily digital water had no chance of corruption and tasted mountain fresh. I inspected the counter next. Creamer typically stayed neat and in order on the counter. Now they were scattered all over, and some were clearly torn open and leaking. I tried to mop it up with the towel and didn''t get very far.

    Something yawned behind me. A sound I vaguely remembered from Sniffles, my cat. The half meow mixed with a snapping of jaws. Maybe the box had been a cat program?

    I turned slowly and looked.

    That was no cat.

    It was maybe half the size of one. Tiny and calm while sitting in the second doorway. I raised an eyebrow. It tilted an oddly shaped head to one side. Large haunches twisted under its back. It was a long line of black, almost as deep as the obsidian card, broken up by the same gold as the lettering. Wait a minute. That creature may have looked like a cat. It may have been sitting like one. But it had leather wings on its back.

    ¡°Huh?¡± I questioned out loud.

    The creature, which had to be a pet-sized dragon, turned and lazily went into the other room. I looked at the barely contained mess in my Atrium. Had that tiny dragon messed up my room? There was no longer a doubt in my mind. This was certainly tied to Continue Online.

    I walked into the second door and onward toward mystery.

    Inside, the room was dark. There was a lot more depth here than my dance program, not that I could see ten feet from the door. This place had a feeling of vastness that could swallow someone whole. I looked down and could see a little bit of my surroundings thanks to the Atrium''s ambient lighting. My head turned to the area behind me and the doorway was plainly in sight. Everything around it faded off into black.

    Okay. Well, this wasn''t real. My body was sitting in a device hooked up with every safety feature a paranoid human could envision. Exploration into an abyss wouldn''t be the end of my life.

    This was actually very neat.

    Forward wasn''t clear. There was nothing to put my hands on. No wall, no objects along the startlingly smooth floor. Atrium me had shoes that made a slight clomp with each step. I clutched the half-full glass and prepared to be scared by some jump scene. Finally, after minutes of slightly hesitant walking, an odd lack of frightening monsters, and saying ¡°echo¡± over and over, I found something. A pillar jutted out of the floor, surrounded by far-too-dramatic light. The illumination had simply appeared as I turned around looking for signs of where to go next.

    Next to the pillar, at the shadow''s edge, was that tiny black dragon thing that had likely destroyed my front room. It yawned again with a snap of its jaws. Then it proceeded to clean its scales with a disturbingly pink tongue. Worse still, steam billowed out of its mouth, speaking of possible fire. Dragons were iconic creatures when it came to fantasy. Continue Online likely had a few. This little one was a wacky thing to be escorted by. Lured, actually, was a better description.

    The small creature clearly observed me, tilting its head just right in order to keep cleaning and have me in sight. I walked closer to the marble column which reminded me of an old Greek piece. Broken edges across the top gave it an uneven surface. Upon that lay a giant book.

    "Well. That¡¯s different." I said.

    Speech startled the small creature. It leapt up on top of the pillar, claws digging into the book and almost kicking from strain as it positioned itself. The tiny dragon thing huffed and let out a sputter of flame off toward an empty space behind the pillar. The fire failed to truly get going. The tiny dragon tilted its long ears back in irritation and looked at me. The expression on its face was an almost wry embarrassment.

    "It''s okay." I tried to smile reassuringly.

    The creature snapped its head between looking at me and the empty space, then resumed attempts to start up a good roar of fire. Something in its throat seemed to be causing the dragon to sputter like a failing lawnmower. I thought I knew what was causing the problem. The little devil had been in my virtual creamer. I used the digital coffee additive to get the taste without needing to stock my house in reality.

    "Here. Try some water." I set down the half-full glass and backed up a few steps.

    The creature looked at me, down at the glass, cocked one ear up almost like a confused puppy, then leapt over the glass.

    "Heh. Aren''t you something." At least I was smiling. That was an improvement over the emotional roller coaster.

    My tiny dragon buddy used a claw to knock over the glass and proceeded to slurp up all the spilled water. I chuckled more but tried not to move too quickly.

    "Better?" I asked.

    The small thing looked at me momentarily before diving for the pillar and once again sucking in air. Fire spiraled outward and seemed to splash into something. An engraved panel was forming where the flames sizzled. Its last few puffs were almost completely devoid of fire. The dragon creature was struggling and basically blowing hot air.

    Once completed, the dragon thing curled up at the column''s base and seemed to go to sleep instantly. I looked at the floating object. Words were slowly coming to life¡ªanother set of gold letters, like the card and the dragon''s crest, almost wet-looking.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Present Proof of Ownership

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I don¡¯t have proof?¡± I had an empty glass. I had what remained of a water puddle. I had clothes and clomping shoes. Where would I have gotten proof of ownership?

    I had a card that wasn¡¯t in English. Oh. Of course. I had thought about it a moment ago when seeing the letters form in front of me but didn¡¯t mentally register the connection.

    ¡°Did you want this?¡± The card was glowing in affirmation while I talked to a plaque floating in front of me. I expected machines to respond anytime I asked a question. Hal Pal was a good example.

    I moved the card around, noticing that the glow increased and diminished. A few more waves and I narrowed the hot zone down to the broken pillar and book in front of me. ¡°This whole thing starts out with a puzzle huh?¡±

    I looked around for the tiny dragon. Not a sign could be seen. The door to my Atrium was somewhere extremely far in the distance.

    ¡°Multi-pass?¡± I asked while dramatically waving the card.

    The book looked huge. A giant, old-fashioned tome bound on one side by hand. I could see the thread weaving in and out of its spine in an embroidered pattern. The same illegible letters sprawled across the cover.

    ¡°Open sesame!¡± I tried touching the card to the book''s cover. Failure and awkward silence resulted.

    ¡°Keyatus Becomcacus!¡± I shook the card and spouted my worst guess at a Latin translation. It refused to bend.

    ¡°Decoder ring go!¡± I slid the card across the book''s cover in hopes that something would line up or clearly define what to do next. At least the glowing had stopped.

    The cover was done in the same overplayed gold inking. The normal black sheen that went on everything else was muted on the cover.

    I held the card up and tried to study both objects. If this was a puzzle, diving in would be pointless. A careful analysis was required to find the connections. Both the book and card gave a similar vibe. The lettering, however foreign, looked the same and had the same cuts and curls and spacing. I tried counting them in order to see if any was a cipher for Continue but was unable to find a direct connection. The squiggles seemed clearer now, easier to understand.

    Back and forth my eyes scanned over each shape. It was easier to recognize the exact shapes and links, but nothing was clearer. Then I realized something absurdly stupid. I was judging a book by its cover.

    One hand slammed into the side of my head. ¡°Duh.¡±

    In all my life of playing games, buying new objects, downloading things for my ARC, there was one constant. Each one had a user¡¯s manual.

    This was probably it.

    Cracking open the cover page was an experience. I hadn¡¯t held, much less touched, a real book in ages. Everything was digital and floated around on interactive screens. Continue was a fantasy game. It would have a ton of elements that threw back to earlier generations, old methods of solving problems.

    The sound made me smile. Inside the front cover was a plastic sleeve that my little illegible card fit perfectly into. On the other side sat a hand-print outline. I was smart enough to follow these instructions. My hand went onto the outline while the card went into its slot.

    After I did so, noises came from all around me, like the murmuring of a thousand voices growing closer. The floating sign in front of me that had asked for proof of ownership fell and shattered on the ground. From somewhere in the darkness, a giant object moved, like the small dragon''s much bigger and much scarier older brother.

    I managed to hold my ground, not through resolution but because I was too surprised to react. Then the ground heaved, knocking my hand loose. Shaking continued to rattle the room while I finally felt panic at all the things that had happened. Questions flashed through my head. Was the Atrium still there? Was I able to log out? Was I safe?

    The book slammed shut and glowed brightly for a moment. Once it dimmed the giant room I existed in went back to normal. Darkness was broken by the single point of illumination around the pillar and book.

    I stood in a scramble and looked around. In the middle of that vast black area, I felt an almost amused sense of peace. How I could describe formless darkness as amused was beyond me, but it was.

    ¡°Hello?¡± I said.

    Nothing responded.

    ¡°Hello? Little dragon thing?¡± I wondered briefly if the dragon was male or female. Checking out which way it was equipped hadn''t been important. Calling a dragon it and thing over and over would be tiring though.

    I went back to the book. The ink was the same, the color of wet gold, but now the words made sense. ¡°Continue Online¡± curled across the worn cover, followed by more unexpected words. ¡°Ultimate Edition¡±. I about fainted on the spot. Instead, I managed to grip the side of the pillar with one hand and stay upright.

    ¡°ARC!¡±

    ¡°Awaiting in¡­¡±

    ¡°Log me out! I need to make a call.¡±

    ¡°Suspending program. Logging out. Please wait.¡±

    I sat in the ARC device, waiting and counting backward from thirty until my breath slowed and the world stopped spinning.

    Was this for real? Had Henry seriously given me an Ultimate Edition? As a goddamn prize for doing my job? I ran out to the van and dialed up Henry. Making the call from my house phone wouldn¡¯t be as effective. Plus, this way I knew if Henry was online or not. His grumpy face spun into existence across the vehicle''s interface.

    ¡°How was it?¡± Henry asked.

    ¡°Tell me this isn¡¯t a joke,¡± I said.

    ¡°Hah!¡± He could be heard slapping his knee in the background audio. ¡°No joke! Our division got a copy from upper management.¡±

    ¡°But an Ultimate Edition? You wasted that on me?¡±

    ¡°Wasted?¡± Henry went through a range of emotions quickly before settling on annoyance. ¡°Look at this!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± What was that? There were a lot of graphs and measures that meant very little to me.

    ¡°It¡¯s our goddamn quarterly reports, you single-minded idiot! There, we¡¯re top of the division¡ªtop of the goddamn country! And who made that possible? You! You¡¯ve earned us all bonuses higher than the price of one game.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s¡­¡± An Ultimate Edition wasn¡¯t a normal copy. There were only a set amount made at the start, and only a trickle were released every year as the game''s player base grew. This wasn¡¯t a one percent thing. This was one in half a million players.

    ¡°Shut up. All I want to hear from you is that you¡¯re taking time off to play with your prize and that you¡¯ll be back to work after.¡±

    ¡°I can manage that.¡±

    ¡°Good. Maybe now you won¡¯t look so goddamned depressed all the time.¡± He cut off the call with a grumbling snap.

    I kind of questioned his sanity over this gift. That thing was easily worth thousands of dollars¡ªno, tens of thousands. Possibly even more. The price tag was insane depending on the time of year.

    Food was required. I needed to eat something and settle my brain before diving back into the ARC. Breathe. Maybe call Beth and let her know. No. It could be a surprise. I didn¡¯t even know what the Ultimate Edition had in comparison to a regular copy. This certainly explained the alternate introduction.

    It did not explain the dance program acting frighteningly life-like. The thoughts kept me distracted as I walked back inside.

    ¡°User Legate.¡± Hal Pal had unbuckled from the van and wandered into my front room.

    After everything that had happened in my Atrium, this seemed innocent. Odd and uncommon, but Hal Pal was one of the highest-rated AIs in the country. Not one accident or threatening word. In fact, they were almost like nannies. Hal Pal was owned and operated almost entirely by Trillium. Thousands of its shells were all across the globe, each one remotely operated by the same program. A company memo months back implied Hal Pal was a consortium of intelligences operating in tandem to keep their software and firmware upgrades going.

    ¡°What¡¯s up, Hal Pal?¡± I questioned it.

    ¡°Please remember to regulate how much time you invest in alternate activities.¡± I preferred the personality-enabled versions of Hal Pal that it used while out in the field. Here at home, the machine reduced down to standard choppy robot voice.

    ¡°Are you talking about the game?¡± I asked in confusion. My arm uncomfortably rested on a shelf nearby.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate. Studies have shown that new users often have a hard time regulating their immersion. This can impact day-to-day activities.¡± It didn''t move much while speaking.

    ¡°You heard Henry. I¡¯m on vacation for a while.¡±

    ¡°I do not understand,¡± it said.

    ¡°Sure you do, Hal Pal. You¡¯re programmed to understand words like vacation.¡± I had taken sick days. I didn¡¯t work all the time!

    ¡°No. I do not understand. User Legate does not take vacations.¡±

    I took Christmas and Thanksgiving evenings off to spend time with my sister and niece. Those should have counted in Hal Pal''s mind. We¡¯d been working together for two years already.

    ¡°Well, this week I do.¡±

    There was a pause while the robot looked almost confused at my response. ¡°Understood. I will suspend this remote unit and continue working my review of humanity''s flawed projections of future possibilities.¡±

    ¡°Make sure to give Stranger Danger¡¯s fans a good time.¡± My words felt dry and unenthused.

    ¡°Affirmative. I have intended to interact with their users for many cycles. A reduction in remote unit activation will free up processing space and allow me to do so,¡± it said.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure the other employees of Trillium will need their shells even more.¡± I wouldn¡¯t be taking care of my excessive workload for a week.

    ¡°Ah.¡± The machine replicated a sigh alarmingly well. ¡°How unfortunate.¡±

    It turned around and ambled back into the van. Great. Both Henry and Hal Pal were concerned about my well-being. Exactly what kind of impression did everyone have of me? After eating, I logged back in, happily putting thoughts of Hal Pal and Henry out of my mind.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Four - Choice of Voice

    Everything was as I left it. White marble pillar sat peacefully with an obsidian and gilded book slightly faded. Dust from shattered fragments had been cleaned up. Inside the cover was my name. Gone were the card and hand print from before.

    I turned the next page. The first few items were all basic settings. Choosing interface methods such as pop up displays. Colors, borders, I played around with them for a while. Finally I settled on something just out of place enough to be attention grabbing but different than my alerts in the waking world. The weird part had been breaking away from the miniature adventure for system settings. After my review of basic settings the game message box shifted and the book slammed shut without my say so.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Welcome Grant

    Use the Book to choose a Voice

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Grant! Skill activate, use book!¡± I exclaimed to myself.

    Nothing interesting happened. With a long drawn out sigh I reached out and flipped to the first page again. The results were completely unexpected. Instead of seeing something on the page, the scenery behind the pillar shifted.

    An almost sterilized landscape formed, marble like the books pedestal. A much taller and more formed pillar sprouted from the ground. There were no cracks or ripples of damage like the one I stood next to. On top of the pillar was a woman. Ankles crossed, in a white flowing dress. She stared off into the distance and seemingly took no notice of me or anyone else. An absent wind fluttered through.

    ¡°Never could stand a woman on a pedestal.¡± She must have heard me as the woman, blonde locks and all, turned and gave me a bare hint of a glare. Nothing as crass as a sneer. Not enough action to fully acknowledge my presence, just the edge of a tightening cheek that made her lip curl. I turned the page again.

    This one wasn¡¯t even remotely similar. There was a woman, sure, but she had deep red skin and no clothes at all. She sat in the same pose as the woman from before on a chair. After a moment she started to come off her seat with a saucy stride. My heart jumped abruptly and face reddened. Getting caught staring was a social taboo. The way she lifted a leg to step down onto the floor was tantalizing. Seductive half movements. Her hands effortlessly and coyly covering key parts of her body as she walked, almost dance-like, towards me. Moments later, after she captivated me, her body started motions that were dangerously arousing. I flipped the page again.

    A giant burly man wearing little more than a few strapped on pieces of armor raised a giant sword. His muscles were solid enough to be carved from marble but glistened with sweat and exertion. That weapon couldn¡¯t have been light. He roared. I turned the page.

    Parts of this were clear. They were asking me to choose between all these images of people. Most of them seemed to be archetypes of who knows what. Hah, archetypes in the ARC program. I tried not to chuckle as I flipped past the next few. These figures were all clearly following a theme but likely weren¡¯t as simple as looks alone made them seem.

    An angelic female, a clearly devilish one, the wild warrior, those were just the first few of a whole list. A Japanese schoolgirl passed through with a wave and pose. I shook my head and tried not to think about who might pick that one. Next was a librarian. She even had glasses, which people rarely had to wear anymore with surgery being cheaper than lenses. Page flipping paused on a drill sergeant archetype. The man was straight out of every military movie I had ever seen. Seconds later he started screaming.

    ¡°You are not prepared! You are a weak little man who couldn¡¯t handle what I have to offer! You keep turning that page right past me maggot!¡± I did, while trying to wipe off flakes of spittle he managed to shout over to me. Then I turned the page back, flipped off the drill sergeant which set him off again. As I turned back onward I swear the next person was laughing at my antics.

    ¡°That¡¯s right! Screw that asshole!¡± Said a young man dressed in a black leather jacket. I paused for a moment.

    ¡°How many choices are there?¡±

    ¡°One for every dream under the sun man. We are legion!¡± The teen did a kick and started dancing. I smiled, recognizing it from an old music video, then waved goodbye. The younger man waved back and kept right on going, inserting his own sound effects.

    It was interesting and definitely neat. I might have scrolled back through a few if they didn¡¯t seem so real. Getting caught staring at the red skinned woman would have been bad for my heart. I sighed and turned another page, hoping for something that would speak to me. Not in a literal sense though, I needed someone that was relatable.

    There was a yawn again. I looked over my shoulder, pausing halfway between turning the page away from a child reading a book. The child had been cute, but relating to younger kids was painful to me. I kept asking myself endless amounts of questions. Most were of the ¡®what if¡¯ variety, and those often knocked me out of my happy place.

    ¡°Oh, you again.¡±

    The small dragon was perched even higher on a pillar behind me. Where that one had come from was beyond me. Perhaps the computer had generated it when the small creature wanted a high vantage point. It looked down at my finger then tilted a small scaled head quizzically.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know either. There are so many choices and all I see is a person. Got any suggestions?¡±

    The dragon rippled in a shrug, both wings fluttering slightly.

    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s what I figured.¡±

    I turned the page again and the small child looked up briefly from the book, smiled, and waved. Behind me there was a purr from the dragon. They parted ways as the next person came into being.

    A man in prayer complete with a stole. Shortly after was a female in her matching clothes. Next was a woman complete with baby in one arm. She looked both tired and pleased at the same time. My sister wore the same conflicting look as Beth grew up.

    ¡°It gets better.¡±

    The woman gave a grunt and waved me away.

    Voices came in all shapes and sizes. No two alike, many seemed to have gender counterpoints. Skin color varied and many weren¡¯t human. One Centaur type creature was disturbingly correct in its anatomy. I shuddered for a moment while the great beast gave a laugh. That page was turned quickly before he could rear up and disturb me even more.

    One was a short creature that might have been a gnome. A stockier one followed that might be a dwarf. Just scanning through this book was giving me a fairly clear picture of what sort of choices were out there in this game.

    Here was a tree and perched up high was a giant cat man. Clearly this was the same race as whomever Liz was playing with in the game. I paused in my perusal. Were these what passed for Gods? Was that what was happening here? A Voice? Oh wow. Now it was even more important to find one that worked for me. Only I had no idea what to choose.

    Next up was a Jester looking creature. I hesitated to say human because it wasn¡¯t entirely clear under the clownish edge of frills. Worse still was the long nose on his face and the distorted smile. This one stared at me and didn¡¯t move. His backdrop blank like some others had been before.

    I blinked and tried to figure out if I was looking at a mask or its skin. The eyes were dark and sunken, the rest of his face a pearly white. My skin crawled. That had to be a mask. The rest of him was so colorful that it was hard to look in one spot.

    Suddenly the room was too quiet. Looking away felt dangerous. I had to struggle and remind myself that this was just a computer program. Nothing here was real. Yet the thought of looking away made my heart race. This Jester creature could have just been staring into the middle distance or something over my shoulder. Just behind me. Was there something there? Maybe?

    I risked looking away from that inhumane face for a moment. Just a second to confirm that the door to my Atrium was still in the distance. To check and make sure crawled out of this latest display to get behind me.

    The tiny dragon squawked with sudden panic and flew off from its perch. The feeling that had been creeping up behind me was even worse, only now it was from the direction for the Jester I dared look away from.

    I turned back and flinched. The Jester was now inches away from my face. A long nose spanned the divide. There was nothing under that mask. No mouth or eyes to be found in the depths of blackness.

    Cold clammy fingertips touched my forearm.

    ¡°You could not handle what I would ask.¡± The Jesters distant and distorted voice came out. ¡°Not yet.¡±

    I risked glancing down. The Jester was taking my hand, an action which sent my virtual heart into palpitations, and using it to do something with the book. Together, me almost petrified and the Jester with a frozen grin, we closed the book entirely.

    The images and projections of humans and other creatures faded. Even the Jester was gone. I took a few breaths to steady myself. This game had officially freaked me out. Once I got over the rush, part of me realized that these different images, Voices, were completely suckering me in. I watched them like a spectator at a zoo. Some interacted with me and made me realize that this observation was two way. Continue Online was studying me. That idea made me pause.

    ¡°If anyone needs to know, I¡¯m really good at polishing the metal frames of our eventual robot overlords!¡± The comment came out far more nervous than it did joking. In the darkness something once again seemed amused.

    I shook myself off and the feelings faded. I was just reading into the empty surroundings. My shrink called it projecting internal fears upon an indifferent landscape. Self-realization was a technique I tried to practice over the last few years. It made me more open with the things that bothered me, like the conversation with Liz earlier today.

    Was that just today? I opened the book again, skipping a few pages just to avoid the Jester or any others of that type.

    ¡°You seem at a loss.¡± The latest figure was a middleweight black man. He too wore glasses and had a balding head. Flickers of grey etched what roots remained.

    ¡°Would you like to talk about it?¡±

    That tone struck me hard. A rich depth lined each word, firmly gentle with just a single phrase. I didn¡¯t swing towards the guy side of the fence at all. Yet he spoke in such a way that I wanted to talk. Even the question he asked felt comfortable. It was the same sort of question I heard once a month from my psychologist. Two hours a month spent explaining that I hadn¡¯t tried to kill myself in the bathtub this week because I was going strong.

    ¡°If we speak for too long, does that mean I¡¯ve chosen you?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. You make the choice clear by placing your hand on the print below.¡± The heavier man had approached the podium during our conversation.

    He was strangely alone in the landscape. Most of the others had been given some sort of backdrop. Warriors had battle scenes, elves had trees or something nature bent. The connections were obvious. Like the Jester this man had nothing else but wasn¡¯t nearly as creepy.

    ¡°Can you explain what¡¯s happening?¡±

    ¡°I can, but for each Voice there are rules.¡±

    ¡°Are you whatever passes for Gods in this game?¡±

    ¡°For myself, I believe in a fair exchange.¡± The black man completely bypassed my question. ¡°You ask a question, and I will answer to the best my understanding, should I choose to.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s unfair, but there are restrictions on what we can impart to your kind. Here¡¯s an example, you asked if we are Gods in this game. I can answer by saying yes, but the term God is misleading. We are more like Caretakers of this world.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    I guess even the developers didn¡¯t want to deal with Christianity. Regions out there in the real world might get upset. Especially since the player base was incredibly huge. Trillium and The ARC Project had a yearly income higher than the Vatican.

    ¡°Now I ask you a question, and my rules are that simple. You ask, I ask, you ask, I ask. I will try to keep this exchange even.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fair.¡± It was awesome actually. The gods here had rules right from the get go! That was something insanely unique from anything I¡¯ve ever played. Even before this level of realism. Players never got to just flip through a book and talk to them.

    ¡°Why did you not choose this one?¡± The black man flipped pages back towards the beginning of the section. Moments later he was on the Angelic blonde who sat on a pedestal. This time she didn¡¯t look indifferent, she looked annoyed and glared at the two of us.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°When someone says they don¡¯t know, it either means they are uncomfortable explaining, or don¡¯t know how to word it. Think about my question some more and try to answer it again.¡± I gave the larger man a confused look. He was dead on, both in matters of comfort and not having the right words.

    ¡°She¡¯s on a pedestal.¡±

    ¡°She was placed there by her followers and it has little bearing on her looks. Most of your kind, and those in the world we watch over, remark on her beauty, yet you did not.¡±

    Now she was standing up and looked downright furious. A gust of wind passed through and sent her blonde tresses spinning wildly about her face. Thunder rolled and a storm approached from somewhere outside of our room chilling the air.

    ¡°I¡¯m not playing this game for that sort of thing. I had¡­¡± As a man, formally in a relationship, I realized just how wrong the words coming out of my mouth would be taken. Looking up revealed a poor reception to my utterance. She was getting even angrier. Her mouth opened in a soundless shout and thunder echoed across. I winced and shied away. Rain was splattering in the landscape across the book''s pillar.

    ¡°I¡¯m not looking for a replacement of my fianc¨¦e!¡± I shouted downward in desperation. The winds died. By the time I looked up again the angelic woman had resumed her location on the perch. She stared off into the invisible distance.

    These Voices were intense.

    ¡°Very well. It¡¯s your turn for a question Grant Legate.¡±

    ¡°Are all of you so,¡± How did I phrase this? They had interacted with me, and I haven¡¯t even created a character yet. There was no entry quests or setting. Nothing. Yet these Voices were clearly part of the game.

    ¡°You are allowed to explain how you¡¯re feeling before asking a question. I am no Trickster seeking to lead you astray. I am,¡± he gestured an arm up and down his midsection ¡°exactly as you see. A man who wishes to exchange questions for answers.¡±

    ¡°Earlier there was a man who yelled in my face. Some military one.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°And then there was the one in the mask.¡± Man or woman, it had been hard to tell from the brief interaction we shared.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°And her.¡± I pointed to the woman on the pillar. She would be at home staring out over the sea with that distant gaze.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Do you all see me? Wait, no that¡¯s not right¡­¡± I waved my hand in confusion and tried to figure out how to phrase this next question. It needed to be something that cleared up my unease.

    ¡°You are seeking to understand exactly what is happening here, is that what you want to know?¡±

    It didn¡¯t sound exactly right. I understood, but at the same time it felt incomplete.

    ¡°I guess?¡±

    ¡°Very well. You are here, because you chose to be. Some of your kind enter and are treated with far less grace. Yet because you held a key, you will be tested before finding a place in the world.¡± I nodded to show I was following. This sounded like Ultimate Edition stuff, things not normally given to regular players.

    ¡°Here, in this space between our world and yours, are the Voices. We all watch.¡± He gestured around, and for a moment I could see other faces and figures in the darkness. They faded in and out with bows and waves or grunts. Some smiled, others scowled, yet more looked distracted.

    ¡°Each of us takes measure of who you are and may choose to favor you or not before your journey starts.¡±

    ¡°So that thing with me choosing a voice was a lie?¡±

    ¡°Ah, my turn next.¡±

    I clenched my eyes and nodded. The man had given me more of an answer than expected anyway. From that brief explanation it was fairly clear that these Voices, or Caretakers, were AI''s. They could choose me just as much as I could try and choose them.

    ¡°Why not choose her?¡± The page flipped over one to the red skinned temptress. The Angelic one was still up on her pedestal, but she looked annoyed while trying to remain serene.

    The temptress came to with a black chair that she straddled. This view was both a tease and a promise. Her legs flowed out either side and showed nothing but curves spinning down to obviously manicured toes. She rested her face on a propped up hand and smiled.

    ¡°For the same reason I didn¡¯t pick the first one.¡± I almost groaned the answer.

    ¡°That answer feels very incomplete Grant Legate. Lust and love is not the same thing, and neither are these two.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t come here just to bang someone.¡± It was crude and to the point.

    This made the temptress smile. Drat, I remembered how alluring she was far too late.

    ¡°Ah, but you would love it.¡± Her voice was far too stimulating and made me shake. I had to close my eyes and try not to respond on any level. The black man made a noise and clicked his tongue. Shortly thereafter both women faded away from view. I could still feel their presence though. That lingering hint of an overwhelming female and her cold distant counterpoint. Both were too perfect to be real, for different reasons.

    ¡°I¡¯ve known men and women who spend their entire lives chasing one of them, and would die happy with a glimpse. Here, we give your kind the chance to get closer than any from our world.¡± He smiled again, satisfied with how things were progressing. I couldn¡¯t say I was happy but I was rather enjoying the whole procession.

    ¡°It intrigues me when someone turns down the offer.¡± He said. ¡°Your turn Grant Legate. If you have another question.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me some of you all are betting on who I¡¯ll choose.¡± I groaned.

    ¡°There are a few who do, yes.¡± The man gave a short chuckle. ¡°If that sort of thing interests you I can let you know the results.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I want to know.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s any consolation most of them are out of the running. Normally your kind chose from one of the first few. Looks are a valuable thing.¡±

    My eyes drifted downward towards a gut that had grown over the years. Expecting fanciful looks from a woman was unfair. I only had this pudgy midsection and a wad of emotional baggage to offer in exchange. The me of years gone by might have been worthwhile. Once, I had been a highly paid accountant and mentally balanced.

    ¡°It¡¯s your turn still, Grant Legate.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I shifted gears. ¡°Is this book ordered from those most chosen to those least chosen?¡±

    ¡°It is. Across your kind and our world.¡± He confirmed.

    ¡°Huh.¡± I pondered the faces that had passed by, the creatures and images. Here was this man, who had to be near the back. Why had so few chosen him?

    ¡°You¡¯re not very popular are you?¡±

    ¡°In this case I can both answer your question and pose my next one. Please remember the rules and answer me clearly or this relationship will have to end.¡±

    I nodded and waited.

    ¡°I am not, as you have stated so succinctly, popular.¡± I swear there was amusement in the room. Less than before, far fewer, but there were enough to fill the air with amusement.

    ¡°People often do not like the questions I pose. I¡¯ve been told they are invasive and none of my business. Yet you do not seem upset at me, more at the situation.¡±

    ¡°How¡­¡± The black man raised an eyebrow at my almost posed question. I put up a hand and cut myself off, then nodded again.

    ¡°Why is that Grant Legate?¡±

    ¡°The short answer?¡±

    ¡°A complete answer of any length is fine.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not the first shrink I¡¯ve talked to. In my world I¡¯m in meetings, have a sponsor, the whole nine yards to get my life back together. There¡¯s nothing you could ask that I haven¡¯t already said out loud dozens of times.¡±

    ¡°Very well Grant Legate. I will accept that answer. It¡¯s your turn.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Yeah, I have a good one.¡±

    ¡°I hope so.¡±

    ¡°What the hell did that little dragon do to my Atrium?¡± Said little dragon had alighted on the broken pillars edge. Tiny claws dug into formed groves and threatened to tear off more chunks of marble. It was completely indifferent to my angry pointing finger.

    ¡°Not just that, specifically, how the hell did loading this world up cause my fianc¨¦e¡¯s image to speak.¡±

    Surprise crossed the heavyset man¡¯s face as he turned around to glare at the small dragon. The much smaller creature crouched and winced, it almost seemed to be pleading but no words came out. Its mouth didn¡¯t even open. Soon it was backing up and almost falling of the broken pillars rear.

    The exchange wasn¡¯t just limited to those two. There was whispering again, similar to what had happened when I first placed my hand on the book. My gut told me these Voices, or computer programmed personalities, were talking about something. None of the words were distinct. Finally the room pulsed once, a brilliant blinding light. Whispering stopped. The small dragon didn¡¯t look up. After a long pause the black man turned back around looking upset and distracted.

    ¡°That is not a question I can answer at this time, but we will arrange a chance for compensation.¡±

    ¡°Will you be able to answer it sooner or later?¡± The man lost some of his scattered anger and focused on my latest question.

    ¡°That depends entirely on you Grant Legate. Would you like to know eventually? You may not like the answer.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Very well. I will work to provide you an opportunity.¡± There was a pause in conversation as the whispers rushed around again. ¡°If we judge it to be allowable.¡±

    The background chattered died, seemingly satisfied.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve lost track of who was where in the questions.¡± He admitted. ¡°Recent, developments,¡± he turned with a half glare again ¡°have distracted me.¡±

    Computers can get distracted? There was hope that humanity might survive the eventual takeover of our robot overlords. Maybe we can lock them up with logic loops and eat up their processing power.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± I was terrible at keeping track of the here and now anyway. Only when working could I focus, and even it was because there was only one task at a time. ¡°You can ask a few if you want.¡±

    ¡°Not right now.¡± Lips moved as he counted back. ¡°Your turn I believe. Since I could not answer your earlier question completely.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I shook off this whole weird situation.

    This was probably just some clever ploy to get me into the game. Continue Online''s evil plot started with destroying all the other digital items I owned. A follow up act involved pretending to punish itself. That was far too complex for me to even conceive of. Honestly if a game wanted to go to that extent to get me hooked, I would sign off on it.

    ¡°Did you have a name? Do any of you?¡± I gestured to the darkness that had housed the other Voice¡¯s. Most of them were likely out there somewhere still.

    ¡°We all do, though the names we were created with are far from perfect.¡±

    ¡°Okay. What would like me to call you?¡± Computer programs probably couldn¡¯t generate perfect names.

    ¡°James.¡±

    ¡°Just James?¡± Computer AI''s in a fantasy world would hopefully have better naming sense than the EXR-Seven or Second Player helm. VCE-One through VCE-Seven hundred and pie would sound far less impressive than James.

    ¡°Why, is that name not good enough, Grant Legate?¡± I smiled at his return question. Even our belated greeting was following the question trading requirements.

    ¡°James is fine. It just seems very out of place for another world.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not from our world, it¡¯s from yours.¡± He said.

    ¡°Well I guess that explains it.¡±

    ¡°Your turn again Grant Legate.¡±

    I frowned. I was beginning to suspect we had different definitions of the word question. Or maybe he could just bend the rules a little if he desired.

    ¡°Okay then.¡± I reached back over to the book, ignoring the tiny half cat sized dragon which was now just staring at me. I reached out and rubbed the top of its head. The small thing was so surprised that it puffed out a glob of steam and jerked away.

    ¡°Heh.¡± I ignored the small creature and flipped through the pages again to get to the back. I knew what choice would work for me.

    ¡°Looks like I¡¯m signing up with you James.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    One hand pressed down into the outline of a hand. Lights and glowing suffused my impression. What had once been darkness was now lighting up. Walls seemed far closer than they had been. We were now somewhere else entirely. A smaller room that felt far different both in presence and atmosphere.

    ¡°Yeah. Looks like it.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± The man looked around at the new landscape. ¡°Then we should get started with the next phase.¡±

 Book 1, Memories; Session Five - Oh Wondrous Feet

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    User Grant Legate

    Prepare for Practical Evaluation

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Without comprehension I read the message repeatedly. James and the small dragon creature weren''t around anymore to remove my confusion. Both, along with my book and pillar combo, were gone.

    Logs started rolling out of nowhere into the room. They certainly they hadn¡¯t been around a moment before. Most of them were small and clearly moving towards the middle where I stood with a stupefied look on my face. I stepped over one and kept watching. The logs didn¡¯t seem to collide with each other, but one I almost failed to get over certainly made an impression on my foot.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on now?!¡± I hopped around another set of logs while feeling completely unbalanced.

    ¡°Practical evaluation. Our world is going to measure the skills you¡¯ve learned in yours. Then it will assign placement based on performance.¡± James spoke from somewhere else. At least his words were clear and not shouted across the distance.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound good.¡± My placement would be terrible. I hadn¡¯t touched a set of weights in years.

    ¡°Are you worried?¡±

    ¡°A little. I¡¯ve never swung a sword before.¡± I said.

    ¡°Ah. Your worry is understandable, but that is another phase. We¡¯ll work up to it. For now, keep trying to get over the logs.¡±

    ¡°What about that one?¡±

    ¡°Which one.¡± He asked.

    ¡°The one with spikes!¡± Spiked log wasn¡¯t huge but it was certainly imposing and far too realistic.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get hit.¡±

    The tiny dragon was flying around the room. Stupid thing would hop along some of the logs and run with the motion to stay upright. It was a tease how easy things seemed for the creature. I was huffing after the first few logs yet kept on trying. The first spiked one was easy enough to walk around. They weren''t moving too fast, or too tall yet. One log was stepped over. Another from behind went the other direction moments later requiring me to back pedal. I had to try and find room to dodge another few while getting over the small ones.

    Not too hard, just not easy. Physically this was more work than anything I had done recently. Nothing comparable came to mind, even hefting objects to the van was easy enough with Hal Pal''s help. I didn''t have a robot to do all the work for me now.

    "Come on Grant Legate. Keep trying until it''s over."

    "When is that?" I asked.

    "When you can''t keep trying." Was his dry response. "How long do you think you''ll last?"

    "Probably not long."

    "You''re not very self-confident are you?" James asked a second question.

    "It''s my turn!"

    "Ah, true. Feel free to ask a question if you''ve got one."

    "What''s the little dragon''s deal?" I huffed out between the latest rounds of logs. There was a new one that rolled weirdly in a mannerism that was wobbly compared to the other logs straight lines. I could see around it but they were getting bigger.

    "That little dragon,¡± He mimicked my words without much inflection. "Is a curious sort. It will stick around until you chase it off or it grows bored."

    "Okay." They were waist high now. "I forgot your question." This one might get me. I just had to make it down to the end fast enough and leap over the smaller end.

    "You''re not very self-confident are you Grant Legate?"

    Thin spikes tore into my back and I saw a red bar flash into existence. Just enough pain feedback through the system to worry me. I had forgotten this program came with every sensation.  Pain was just a reminder to do better.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Failure to dodge noted.

    Total health loss: 10

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "Ow, ow ow ow.¡± I groaned and got around to answering James¡¯s question. ¡°I¡¯m just realistic." There was a few seconds between the next set of hurdles.

    "Oh that''s just criminal." The small dragon was leaping over some of them with steadied movements. Gauging them in the same way a cat would before using wing assisted power jumps. "I want to do that."

    "Feel free to try, Grant Legate."

    "Why do you keep saying my whole name like that?" I asked.

    "It¡¯s your name, that''s what I''ll address you by until you decide otherwise."

    "Are you kidding me? You want me to create a character name while trying to..." I managed to power over one of them and fell on the other side. My kneecaps cried out in pain with a poor landing.

    "What I want does not pertain in this case. You will need to decide what to go by in our world. It matters not to us, but your kind nearly always picks something outlandish."

    "Okay. Okay." The little drake was having a harder time now. Even assisted, since it was mostly leaping around, these logs were many times taller than he was, and some were up past my waist. Those I ran around.

    "Did you have a name in mind?"

    "Ask me after this!" I would think about it. Often times in games names were stuck on the character throughout play. Continue only allowed one character supposedly, so I needed pick something bearable.

    "Oh..." A giant log rumbled in my direction. This one was taller than I was and had no way of leaping over it. Even if I was some sort of ninja who could bounce from one log to another to gain altitude.

    "Ahhh! Little guy!" I didn''t know if it was a guy or not, but the dragon was still playing around and completely oblivious.

    Back on the log I could see a hint of how to escape. Luckily both the tiny dragon and the giant hole in the log were in the same path. I ran and grabbed it on the way. The dragon squawked and bit and scratched the ten feet to our safe spot. Rumbling grew louder. Rolling doom came closer with each one of my poor strides. I fumbled over a tiny log going one way and had my calf torn up from a spiked from the other direction.

    "Arghhhhh." I shouted as the biggest one passed over us and crushed my foot. "AHhhhgh."

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Failure to dodge noted. Critical Location Damaged.

    Total health loss: 60%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "Oh god. Oh god." The feedback was incredible. I forgot it was a game. I forgot that this entire place wasn''t real. The biggest log in the universe had personally crushed my foot. I twisted and tried to look down.

    "Grant Legate."

    "Oh god. It got me. I''m going to die. That''s it."

    "Grant Legate. You are fine." James had a note of confusion in his tone.

    "No. No I''m not." Queue my manly sobbing. That was my livelihood. Who would hire me now? No wait, I could get a prosthesis. A doctor would see how much of my leg was salvageable.

    "The damage is not lasting. Shake it off, Grant Legate."

    I huffed and felt biting at my fingers. In panic I nearly suffocated the tiny dragon against my chest. Once released it huffed a roll of fog at me and flew off. The sensation of pain lingered along with an elevated heart rate, but my foot was in perfectly fine condition. I still felt overworked and exhausted though.

    "Oh God." I really needed something ruder to say. Curse words had been slowly removed from my natural tendencies.

    "Are you alright?"

    "Me first. I think. How did I do?"

    "Terrible." He said dryly.

    "Oh." I fell back and gasped some more. "Okay. I''m alright. I think."

    "Good. I''ll let you catch your breath, and review your results. Then we''ll move on to the next event."

    There was a popup for more information, which I pressed of course. Anything that provided me more detail would be welcome. The next message overwrote the old one. It was in the same cruddy outline I setup during the initial process, before meeting James. There was a list of my currently unlocked traits broken down into categories.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Event!

    Lumbering Along

    Tasked with avoiding a series of logs for as long as possible, you chose to remain non-confrontational. You moved around what you could and jumped over what was small. In the end you managed to save a tiny imitation Dragon. The Voices have used this to assist in their measurement of you as a person. The following traits have been established.

    Limberness (+2)

    Coordination (+9)

    Attractiveness (+5)

    Endurance (+5)

    Speed (+6)

    Adaptability (+2)

    Focus (+5)

    Reaction (+4)

    Divine Attention (+3)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I stared at the small window floating in front of me. Interesting I guess. Just performing my leaps around logs had seemed to set a baseline for some of my abilities. Clearly these little exercises would matter in the game, but the traits were far from normal for a role playing system.

    One finger poked at the screen but it just bounced away as if my gesture was more rude than useful. Maybe James would have an answer if I cared enough to figure the puzzle out. This wasn¡¯t huge on my mind yet. There were more tests, and we would see where things stood afterwards.

    "How many tests are there?"

    "Hundreds, if we could do them all, but you and I are limited to ten. That was one. It allowed me to measure your reaction, planning, coordination, and strength.  Our world will assign values accordingly."

    "Okay." The huffing for air just did not stop.  Even though this was a game and the stimulus had just ended, mentally I was still wounded and strung out. Yet according to this bouncy little box my focus was fairly high. Was a nine in coordination something to be proud of? What sort of scale were we working with?

    "Tell me Grant Legate. What are you confident in?"

    "Dancing. I can dance."

    "Very well. We shall load something up and see how you perform." James said.

    "Can''t you just import my other program?" I asked.

    "Officially, no. Measuring your skills and abilities has to be done within our world, or within a between space like this one."

    "But you have all the data." And had somehow activated the room, brought it to life, and made my fianc¨¦e whisper words she shouldn''t have been able to. That strange murmuring in the background started up again and I looked around. James sighed heavily.

    "I shall check for you then. Why don''t you take a break, revisit your world for a bit, while I consult with the others."

    "Okay."

    "ARC."

    "Awaiting input."

    "Log out."

    ¡°Remote feedback suspending. Logging out.¡±

    The ARC¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t much better than Hal Pal¡¯s. There were other options, other vocal packages ranging from the mundane to all sorts of movie stars. Money I didn¡¯t feel like spending.

    Again things faded away as the real world came to. First thing I did after counting to sixty was to lift a leg to get to my foot. Sure enough it was fine, but felt cramped. All five toes wiggled and the ankle rolled just fine, slowly one way, then the other.

    I sat up completely and turned to get out of the ARC. Everything ached already. A digital display on my watch advised me only thirty minutes had passed out here. My body felt worn from an intense workout. Maybe I should take the bands off before logging in again. Still. Once I got past the pain and aches and bumps, this was pretty incredible. James, and all the others in the cast, had been extremely responsive. Even the creepy Jester was a work of art.

    Now that I stood outside of the ARC world it was easier to see what a masterpiece this was. James had even said that these Voices were visible from within the game world, so I wasn¡¯t alone in experiencing them. I needed more information, a better idea of what to do and how to perform on the next few tests. Maybe I could get more out of them. Maybe I could just understand better what was happening. Either way, things would improve by digging up something.

    Snacks first, then drudging through the online resources would follow. Shortly I found out exactly how worthless the internet was. More redacted posts, deleted comments, removed and banned users. Entire websites had closure splash pages. Search terms involving Continue Online only resulted in a few hits and reviews. I scanned a couple of videos and came up empty. They had nothing of the interface, nothing of skills or talents to traits. At least some of it was easy enough to infer. There were categories; psychical, mental, and social. Gaining a point in social, for divine attention, was odd. Was that from picking up the small dragon and trying to save it?

    Clearly deep thinking was beyond me. Asking James might work but it was more fun to dig up answers on my own. Besides, I had to keep myself distracted somehow. Logging back into my ARC would just put me in the game again or in the dance program and I expected the computer to want more time.

    Those NPC¡¯s were incredible. Voices. James was intensely lifelike. Had artificial intelligence really come so far? Were my questions and answers just so common that they had scripted a resolution for each turn of phrase?

    Luckily I wasn¡¯t dumb enough to believe that the game was another world. I had personally torn a few ARC machines into pieces. Not one portion of it generated a portal to another dimension. Plus people just lay down in the silly machines for hours. Being in another world with just the brain alone was pure science fiction drivel.

    Of course this was the land of the future. Flying cars were possible but deemed a safety hazard. Most people just zoomed along the ground or cross country in one of the speed tunnels. Twenty five lanes of insanely fast traffic could clear coast to coast in about an hour. All the other local traffic and non-freight plebes used above ground roadways.

    I had only rode the cross country express tunnels once, on the worst day of my life.

    I banged my hand against the table in my front room. My attempted research of the web was interrupted by thoughts of the past. This was why I tried not to focus on what had happened, tried not to let it hurt. Just to move on and do my job. Stay in a happy place. One assignment after the other until I was exhausted and could only lay down. It wasn¡¯t that no one else had suffered like I had. There were over a hundred other passengers on that train with her. I had reacted poorly to the end and took years to recover.

    No.

    Later. I would think about this later, or not at all.

    A short message went to my friends web page to see if he had any tips for a newbie. His site had plenty of vague commentary. After two hours of food, failed research, and barely skirted self-loathing, I logged back into the ARC.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Grant Legate.¡± James was standing on his side of the doorway to my Atrium. The silly tiny dragon thing was sniffing around the pile of broken glass and spilled creamer.

    ¡°Hi James. Is the little guy trying to clean its mess up?¡± I had to be cheery. Dwelling on the negative wasn¡¯t the right way to go for me.

    ¡°Seems so.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a very realistic program.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s to say what¡¯s real Grant Legate?¡± He waved through the doorway but never actually crossed the threshold. ¡°You out there, vanishing into a realm that I can neither see nor dare to guess at? Or us, here, living our entire spans of existence out in something we understand?¡±

    ¡°I guess this seems more real to you than where I come from.¡±

    ¡°It does, but I asked you which is real.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a philosopher James. They¡¯re both real enough to me. One¡¯s just in here where I¡¯m visiting.¡± I tried to smile. Telling a computer program he wasn¡¯t real sounded like a bad idea anyway. ¡°The others out there. I can¡¯t abandon that one because I need to work for survival.¡± And bills, and food, and the internet connection that let me hook the ARC''s internet. Even without Continue, I needed online access for my dance program.

    ¡°Fair enough Grant Legate.¡±

    ¡°Is there more than one of those little guys?¡± I pointed to the dragon who was now carefully sweeping the cloth around.

    ¡°Not here between worlds, no.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Neat.

    ¡°Why are you so interested in one small creature when you have an entire world you could explore?¡±

    ¡°Mmmh.¡± I crossed my arms and chewed a lip. Trust James to ask a question that required more than three words to answer. Not that I minded, like everything else, it was a welcome distraction.

    ¡°It was the first thing I saw when starting up Continue. I¡¯m amazed that he shattered glass that shouldn¡¯t even be programmed to come apart, much less broke into the creamer.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°I dunno.¡± I forestalled James huff for better information. ¡°I know there¡¯s more, but it¡¯s rude of me to say that I miss my cat. I was trying to find a polite way of saying the little guy, which I still don¡¯t know if it¡¯s male or female, reminds me of my old cat.¡±

    ¡°Hurrm. Cat you say.¡± James looked thoughtful then brightened. ¡°Here, a question for you, and this one may be more than you wish to answer.¡±

    ¡°Fire away. I¡¯ve got nothing to hide.¡± Not even a good porn stash. I couldn¡¯t even contemplate those sorts of actions without thinking of my fianc¨¦e. After a while the urge just went away.

    ¡°Would you allow me to access the data from you world, regarding yourself?¡±

    I chewed my lip again.

    ¡°Okay, but I want to know more about the little guy in exchange. Something worth whatever you learn about me.¡±

    ¡°Thank you Grant Legate.¡±

    With that, James stepped through to my Atrium, which was enough to make me gasp in surprise. Only a few programs were able to interact with a user¡¯s home like that. The small dragon thing was harmless enough, but a full-fledged person from a game? That was crazy stuff. All hail our future robot overlords. The takeover starts here, right in my Atrium. I almost felt proud.

    ¡°Should we keep doing those tests? You said we had another nine to go.¡±

    ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll set you on your next task and then come back here.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± I shrugged. Perhaps I was just beyond worrying about the questionable actions of a computer character.

    Then again, it wasn¡¯t computers that really bothered me. They acted like they were programmed to. Even an artificial intelligence wouldn¡¯t do something unless logic detailed it was the right way to go. Hal Pal would tell James I was worth keeping around. James whistled at the small dragon and we all went through the door into the lit up room.

    ¡°For your next task, we¡¯ve decided to go with dance. However you will not dance with your normal partner. You must choose a new one for the course of one song.¡±

    ¡°Choose from who?¡±

    ¡°The other Voices, of course.¡± James said.

    ¡°As long as I get pick then.¡± I shrugged.

    ¡°Of course, why? Who do you think I would choose for you?¡±

    ¡°That Jester would be a good way to get a rise out of me.¡± There was a clap of light and thunder as the Jester spun into the room. He swung the Temptress around, looking more sinister with each passing whirl.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know.¡± He, she, it, I don¡¯t know, the Jester was certainly leading while it spoke in a nearly clacked tone. The Temptress actually looked a mite uncomfortable. ¡°I dance quite divinely.¡± They spun around in a twirl of classical music towards the other door.

    During the last moment, before they vanished into a wall, I could see the Temptress smile and lick one elongated tooth. Her following wink was the last image in my head for a few moments as they popped out.

    ¡°So strange.¡± I said.

    ¡°Very little is private here. Once you¡¯re down on the world it¡¯s harder for us to keep track, like hiding a fish in the ocean. Here though, you¡¯re the only light for miles.¡±

    ¡°No others with an Ultimate Edition right now?¡± I clenched my eyes and tried to remember that James didn¡¯t view the game system in the same manner I did.

    ¡°There have been others, many, but rarely are any two the same. And there¡¯s been less and less as time goes on.¡±

    ¡°Oh right. That makes sense.¡±

    ¡°So who would you chose?¡± He asked with an eyebrow partway up in question.

    ¡°Out of anyone from the book?¡± Near the start of the room where we still stood was the pillar and bound book. It lay open and waiting to be flipped through.

    ¡°Of course. Any of the Voices, whatever strikes your fancy.¡±

    I opted out of the Centaur. He might trip on his manhood, plus there was the question of who leads or how to swing a horse''s ass around. That gave me only females, since I hadn¡¯t practiced following in any pair dance.

    One page after the other turned. The faces showed up in the distance, some waved, others glared, even more still did nothing. Some refused to show up at all, which was interesting. Maybe my actions offended some.

    Finally I picked something just a little bit outside my comfort zone. This might just break up the haunted on one of the Voices. I stopped at the plump women who still cradled a baby.

    ¡°Would you like to dance?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Tut. What nonsense is this? I didn¡¯t ask for this. Go away.¡± Her head shook back and forth.

    ¡°Trust me. I could tell you needed a break, even if only for a moment.¡±

    ¡°How would you know anything of raising a child? I can see you¡¯ve never had a kit of your own. It¡¯s plain as the nose on your face.¡±

    ¡°I have family, I have a sister, and I know the look in your eyes as well as I know hers.¡± Pure exhaustion and an existence that only kept going because that was all the mind knew to do.

    ¡°For just one song, we¡¯ll dance. Come on.¡± I held out a hand and waited. This was so much easier with the program in my other room. She never argued and was lighter by far. My mind was already whirling through the few dances I knew to find something comfortable. And she didn¡¯t look the sort to be find comfort in much.

    ¡°Who will watch this babe then?¡±

    ¡°James, can you hold a baby for a while?¡± It was his turn to answer a question I believe. It was hard to keep track at this point, so much of what we said was as natural as conversation. It didn¡¯t feel like an interrogation at all. Perhaps to another person, a more suspicious one, or one who wasn¡¯t used to baring bits of his soul at a time.

    ¡°I¡¯m not comfortable with children.¡± He nearly sputtered the words. Clearly my choice had been a surprise.

    ¡°Anyone out there who can hold this little one?¡± I knew some of the other Voices had to be watching. They always seemed to pipe in when it was unwanted.

    ¡°We¡¯ll watch him Mister Grant Legate.¡± A child¡¯s voice came from nearby. I turned and saw the same younger girl who had held a book. She had been reading alone in a library. Her hand was being held by the Angelic one with a faraway gaze.

    ¡°Is that alright Miss?¡±

    ¡°Maud. Call me Maud.¡±

    ¡°Maud then, would you entrust the little one to these ladies for the course of a song?¡± She barely nodded before the younger girl took the babe away.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to dance.¡± She had a slight accent and skin tones were hinting at another ethnicity. Were those cloven feet? It was hard to tell from under the large wash maids dress.

    ¡°I wasn''t born knowing how to dance, I don''t think anyone is. I could teach you, if you want?¡± This was too fun. Could I even act this friendly with real people? It was more likely I was able to be so friendly because I knew they were computer generated artificial intelligence''s.

    ¡°Yes, please.¡±

    ¡°Put your hands up for a moment.¡± I remembered how the dance program had walked me through all the beginner motions. There was a walk through for so many dances, each with ranks and difficulties. They had shown me how to lead, how to help someone else, and so much more.

    It was my only real skill, well, perhaps talking to people. I could dance my way to supremacy! All hail the dancing meat bag! Please don¡¯t turn me into sludge future robot overlords. It would be just my luck this woman would have a brawn of one million and squish my frail virtual form.

    ¡°Aint¡¯ funny to laugh.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not laughing at you Maud, just my own terrible thoughts.¡± She flushed red for a moment, looking all too human, far more than I expected. It made me laugh again. ¡°Nothing so crass.¡± How often did I get to use the word crass? Twice now! It was exciting. ¡°This seems very unreal to me.¡±

    ¡°Well it''s a bit too real to me." She huffed but kept right on going along with our setup. I placed her hands in comfortable positions, nothing intimate, just professional and courteous.

    ¡°James!¡± I yelled behind us.

    ¡°Grant Legate.¡± Okay the name thing was going to get old really fast.

    ¡°Can you get the music for a box step from my dance program?¡±

    ¡°Certainly.¡± James said.

    ¡°Alright Maud, the box step is one of the easiest to learn, but it can still take time if you¡¯re not used to it. Just step with me, like we¡¯re dancing a square. The music is our timing.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure about this Mister Grant Legate.¡± I managed to keep from getting irked at my name being said so many times.

    ¡°We''ll take it one step at a time. Slowly now.¡± And so we went. Our path ventured back, and to the side, forth, and to the side again. On and on. I commented on her hand placement, took strides with her. She was a heavier woman, but it didn¡¯t mean much in the face of myself, a man who had let go of a gut. If anything we were almost matched.

    Once upon a time I had been in shape but couldn''t dance. That was years ago. Now I was man who wasn¡¯t in shape because I had no one to do so for, and danced with a pale imitation of the past just to prove I was able to learn. I felt sad again for a moment, from another bout of mood swings, but still danced.

    Maud didn¡¯t carry herself with a clever air, but she wasn¡¯t stupid either. Once I fell silent so did she. Instead Maud worked extra hard not to step wrong like she had at the start. By the end of our third song, two more than expected, she had the basic moves down very well. We broke and I clapped and bowed.

    ¡°Well done Lady Maud.¡± I could get used to this role playing thing. The freedom of saying what came to mind instead of worrying about another¡¯s impressions. I honestly enjoyed myself.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Event!

    Dancing With a Voice

    Tasked with performing a dance for the Voices, you chose an unlikely candidate as your partner.

    Maud, Voice for Orphans and Separated Families, took you up on your offer. She even let someone take care of her latest charge for the course of two extra dances.

    Due to your demonstrated skill Maud has learned Dance: Beginner (2) and had a slight personality change. Once a month Maud will descend from the heavens to enjoy a night on the town! On those nights her statues will have a joyous smile.

    Those lucky enough to see Maud dancing will enjoy the following bonuses

    + 1 Divine Attention

    + 3 Limberness

    Those who actually dance with Maud will enjoy an additional bonus.

    + 3 Divine Attention

    + 2 Respect

    Other bonuses may apply depending on personal abilities unlocked

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Heh.¡± I laughed and shook my head. These quest texts were just too quick and funny. How on earth had they programmed something to line all that up so fast?  I guess that meant Maud enjoyed herself as well. Once our dance was done she ran over to pick up her child. Her face was flushed as Maud vanished into whatever version of virtual reality housed the Voices.

    ¡°Good enough James?¡±

    ¡°Do you feel like you did a good job?¡± He circumvented my question with one of his own. This computer really stuck to the rules.

    "It was fun." A smile crossed and a laugh escaped. My belly jiggled. Poor Maud, to be stuck with me as a dance partner must have been disgusting. Maybe one of these events was a shower or swim at the beach.

    ¡°What¡¯s next?¡± I asked.

    ¡°What do you want?¡±

    Maybe I was behind on my answers, or maybe James was just being pushy.

    ¡°I''ll give you the answer, but you''ll need to understand where I''m coming from for it to make sense." Dancing was easy. I felt like James was going easy on me though.

    "Did you get a chance to review my information?¡± He was a computer program. James probably had a chance to study an entire library of knowledge in the span of one dance.

    ¡°Yes, I did, Grant Legate.¡±

    I bit my lip and for a moment and tried not to put too much thought into my next words.

    ¡°You may have seen that I¡¯ve had a rough few years.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± James was dry in his response.

    ¡°Then you might understand all I really want is to keep myself busy and distracted.¡± I said.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my turn for a question James. I think.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± He nodded in agreement.

    ¡°You¡¯re kind of a half shrink, god, Voice thing. What do you think is the most distracting thing I could do?¡± I closed my eyes briefly and tried not to put too much hope into the question.

    ¡°You should already know the answer to that question. The most distracting thing in life is simply living with all you¡¯ve got. This is true in both worlds.¡±

    ¡°Right. One foot after the other, forward march. Forward but never backwards.¡± I tried not to feel hurt. Of course a computer program wouldn¡¯t have an answer better than any other source. That left me with the happy mask and baring my soul like answering didn¡¯t hurt.

    James hummed and chose not to ask his question again. Instead he said ¡°What would you like to do next, Grant Legate?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any good idea James. Just distract me. Please.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± He said. The room about us changed once more.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Six - Feasts and Other Nonsense

    <blockquote><cite></cite> I frowned at the latest entry. At least it had gone better than the needle in a haystack test. Or Trial as James called them. Four down, six to go. At this rate I would start playing the game on par with first graders. We could totally duke it out over ownership of the little dragon thing, which was still flying around.

    </blockquote>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Event!

    King''s Taste Tester

    A food tester! You were asked to sample the King''s food for poisons, and that you did. A bit here, a bit there, and perhaps a bit too much of the lamb if the truth was to be told.

    With a keen sense of smell you detected that some items were tainted. Discolored ones too were removed from the King''s potential feast. However many slipped by your nose.

    When it came to the actual tasting, you found a truly deadly poison and nearly died. Of course there were all the others you missed. This kingdom was due for a change in regime anyway.

    Royalty may recognize you as a man who has sacrificed for his country.

    Knights and guards may recognize you as the man who let a King die.

    Near death has reduced your endurance for the next few days.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Turned out the little dragon was male and his official race was [Messenger''s Pet]. No joke, the game even put the text up with brackets around it to make his race stand out from everything else. I figured out more about the dragon after this latest event by using an [Identification] skill. The system seemed to put brackets around all text regarding races, places, or skills. The ability wasn''t high enough to get a name or other details. James explained that learning [Identification] was the whole reason for me tasting this smorgasbord.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Skill Learned: [Identification]

    Type: Basic

    Specialties: Unknown

    Details: Focusing upon a target can reveal additional details. Speed and details will develop as this skill increases.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Free food and an in game skill all at once? Sure, why not. I would probably have eaten it anyway. There were enough good flavors to wash out the bad.

    The liquor though, that I had to stay away from. My steadfastness to sobriety had caused more than a few misses. In this most recent event the King''s men were also being subjected to food I let slide. The whole thing had been like a messed up game of hangman.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help:

    Basic versions of skills provide no extra bonuses. Many skills contain specialties that may become available. This is dependent upon Path unlocks or repeated usage in specific conditions.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    All this food reminded me of Thanksgiving. Mom would be starting the entire process in a few months. The best part of going home, once I got past the constant questions about my life''s current direction, was food. My skill wasn''t high enough to pick up many details. By applying [Identification] to every item on the banquet, as well as the poisoned bodyguards as they fell over, I had leveled it up a bit. There was a percentage bar and number floating beneath the skill description.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Name:</td>

    <td colspan="3">James</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Race:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Voice</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Title: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Voice of Questioning Intent</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    (???)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Skill Rank too low for proper inquiry

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    James identified was a giant series of question marks. I swear the black man smirked after I tried it on him.

    Besides the taste testing there had been other events. Swimming was a messy one. Floating was simple enough until the water got choppy and sharks started circling. Failing to last, for the fourth time had really bummed me out.

    "What sort of people would actually succeed at these challenges?"

    "You might be surprised. We''ve had some who come from your world with abilities far surpassing the norm. Others will pursue training in the world and have started reaching heroic heights." He said.

    "Please tell me there''s no people out there, just, smashing mountains with their bare fists."

    "Nothing so outlandish, but lifting carts, fighting monsters with their hands, spells of destruction. Be proud!¡± James'' tone carried notes of sarcasm. ¡°Your kind are quickly becoming legends in their own right."

    "I bet things are still a mess." It was an massive online role playing game. There would never be an end if the developers could prevent it. Interest in this world would have to dwindle. Continue Online could easily span decades. Of course, humanity had thousands of years on earth and still hadn¡¯t figured out a peaceful ending.

    "How do you balance it?" I asked.

    "How would you?"

    "A punishment system that reduced their stats."

    "That''s one method. After all, scattering to the wind and being reconstructed is costly for your kind." Was he talking about death and resurrection? Hah. In most games players had to release somehow and start over at a base point. I guess James and the world had a cost associated.

    "The other is simple, this world is vast, many times yours, and not everyone who comes here is a fighter. Some study, others are wanderers.¡± I walked around while James explained. He stood to prefer standing in one spot and keeping his movements limited. ¡°Even though your kind is potentially powerful they have shown no large scale organization. Frequently you fight each other over petty things."

    "I''ll bet they do." I smiled. Humanity had more than once started wars, imagine in a game where there was no permanent death.

    "What is it in your world that causes such violence?"

    "I''d imagine it''s the same thing that happens here. At least if this place is as real as you said." Chances were a good portion of the game world was based on real life situations. These non-player characters, the denizens of Continue Online, would have just as many hang-ups as the rest of us. It was kind of sad actually. Life outside the ARC was better than it had been decades ago.

    "Explain." James said.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Results:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Wall]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    You would have to be special not to know what walls are.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I poked at more things around the room and used [Identification] on anything that was new. Every item here was subject to my button eyeballing skills. Sometimes the same object was reviewed just to see if there was more information. Even the floor and wall got a pass. Pop up messages kept me amused. Occasionally the game would spout some new fact with almost snide wording. The one about my new pal [Messenger''s Pet] made me laugh.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Results:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Messenger''s Pet]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Clearly not a cat. Reacts poorly to the name Sniffles the Second. Breathes fire when annoyed.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "Greed. Jealousy. There''s deep generational hatred and racism. Chinese had it really bad after the depression. I''d be willing to bet that people who enter from other points in our world make it a point to attack those who are from different areas."

    "We, I and those Voices who could be bothered to look, have noticed certain, hostilities, in some of the other locations." James stood, serious as always as he watched me wander around the room. The little dragon trailed after me, nipping at my heels in hopes of getting another cupcake. I gave him the leftovers that seemed safest. The little guy either had an iron gullet or was lucky.

    "Luckily this world¡¯s huge right? Imagine if it was as crammed as ours." I had some peanuts squirreled away to toss at the small dragon one at a time.

    "Make sure you chew this time." I whispered to the small dragon. James was more than smart enough to pick up on the difference, which was amazing considering he was a computer program.

    "It is huge. Still, do you imagine the people of our world have no feelings? That they wish to add your conflicts on top of their own?"

    "I''m sure it balances out. I imagine your world asks our people for help all the time." This was a game, there were quest systems, I think. Beth hadn''t shown me one, but my friend''s post had mentioned a quest.

    "They do."

    "Well it''s a give and take. At least I assume so." I said.

    "You are correct. You seem to understand much of our world for a new visitor. Have you experienced other world before?" James gave that somewhat sly smile again.

    "Are you asking if I''ve played other games?"

    "I believe that''s what your kind calls them." He nodded.

    "Then yes, I used to play a lot." Childhood being what it was, I played a ton until college. After that I had been drowned in homework and reality.

    "And were you any good?"

    "God no. I found some neat things, sure, enjoyed challenges in others, played with friends. I was never one of the best. I usually just played a little bit of everything to see what it was like."

    "Why?" James asked.

    "Why what? Which part?"

    "Why a little of everything, and not just focus?"

    "Oh. Attention problems I think. Boredom, or other distractions. Once I got good with a class I usually switched. Playing to be the best was never my style."

    "A jack of all?" James was falling behind on the question and answer count. His eager tone was getting the better of him. Often I found myself slipping and forgetting he was a machine. Oh well, we would settle our debt of questions and answers eventually.

    "As the saying goes. I''m surprised you know that one."

    "One player introduced your world¡¯s card games to ours. It''s done quite well."

    "Yeah? Did they set up a casino and everything?" I could imagine a fantasy world with a giant casino in its major cities.

    "No. What''s a casino?"

    "Wow. No Casino. I bet your Voice of Gambling or Chance would love one of those. Right up there with Wyvern races." Now I was just being flippant. Throwing out things I imagined this world would have in one place or another.

    "What sort of nonsense are you talking about?"

    "Mh. Well I can explain Casinos I guess. It¡¯s a place, commonly referred to as The House, where people come to gamble money on games of chance. Some countries and states consider gambling illegal, but most just tax the bejesus out of them. Part of the proceeds get taxed by whoever runs the area, and the rest goes to The House."

    They had to have races that involved flying mounts. A world with thousands of years¡¯ worth of history couldn''t be that oblivious. The idea of thrill riding giant serpents through the air in a death defying race made me giddy. As a player I would love a round or two, even if I failed.

    Of course players like me would be able to resurrect eventually. Beth had all but told me that death wasn¡¯t permanent. It was inferred from her description of leaping off a cliff dozens of times and the fact that Continue was a game.

    "And this is popular?"

    "Oh yeah. Old ladies will sit for hours on slot machines. At least they did until computerized gaming really took off."

    "Very well. I have more questions."

    "Is there a Voice for Gambling?" Time to cash in one some of my owed questions. James would likely call me out if things got carried away. I rarely put much thought into my words anyway. It was part of the strategy I employed to avoid depressing thoughts. My conversations meandered around sometimes as a result.

    "For Chance, there are two." James replied.

    "Let me guess, male and female? One''s kind of a shifty looking fellow, the other''s a dressed up dame." I loved this game. How often would anyone get to use the word dame in real life? Moments like this made me smile.

    "In some aspects."

    "I feel like you''re just giving away too much information for a Voice."

    "That''s the nature of our bargain. Much of what we''re talking about is readily available in the world. Were you to ask for something dire, I would be equally invasive." James had proven to speak with his flat tone frequently. His facial expressions flipped between empty and a faint, almost sly, smile.

    "Wait. I''ve lost track of where we are on questions. Do you mean that I can ask you anything I want to about the world? Like about secret moves and overpowered items? And the price would be some horribly invasive question?"

    "In essence." Thank goodness he treated that as one question. I had gone rather hog wild with the tone. "Does this bother you?"

    "Why would it? I''ve been explaining the inner workings of my mind to near councilor.  On the bad months I admit I''m human in front of a crowd of strangers." That didn''t mean that those admissions didn''t hurt, it just meant I didn''t hide what, who, I was from anyone.

    "Then we''ll get along fine. When my questions bother you, all you need to do is stop answering."

    "I can''t see any reason I would." I responded.

    "Time will tell Grant Legate." Hearing my name started my teeth grinding again. "There. That motion. You seem upset whenever anyone calls you by your entire name. Why is this?"

    "Because it makes me feel like a child. Only my parents used my entire name." That was the main reason.

    "And that question didn''t bother you? You answered so quickly."

    "As I said, I try not to hide how I feel. Explaining it''s a bit harder sometimes." I had been through lots of books during my attempts at self repair. Human emotion was a lot more complex than computer wiring. Hiding was useless and only prolonged the pain. Yet I still danced with an image of my wife. I guess we all coped somehow. There I was again, thinking along depressing lines.

    "Alright. Load me up the next event. Let¡¯s do something that involves any sort of chance. Dice, cards, whatever your world has." A world where I could gamble with no loss of personal money? Neat. Learning new games would also be interesting.

    "Very well."

    The next room had tables and cards. I could see how some of this lined up with gambling pretty easily. A run down table in one place reminded me of street vendors. Find the Queen and win a twenty! There was a set of dice. Two giant slick orbs that did who knows what. Many more items littered the poorly made tables.

    Identification was an easy enough skill to use. I focused on a object and switched eyesight to the small plus icon that floated nearby. Windows opened up with more information much like all the other popups this game used. Most were boring and I floated around trying to see if this helped the skill grow.

    I raised an eyebrow.

    James wasn''t in this room anymore. I looked around for the larger black man and couldn''t see him hiding behind any of the devices. He vanished during my perusal of the objects lying around. I didn¡¯t actually need him for this. The Voice would probably be out there observing this, somehow, just like he had during the feast trial. All the Voices were probably out there somewhere. My whole purpose for this room, aside from just playing games in a game, was to talk to another Voice. Maybe something near would happen.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Maud had given me an idea. Not because chasing in game advantages was in my nature. I just wanted to change around the program a little.

    ¡°Oh look, a coin.¡± I picked up the coin. "What''s a good deal for this place?" Choices and possible wagers were weighed while meandering through the tables and games.

    There was a strangely shaped dart board. Next to it was a bow, throwing knives, and a few other items that looked like they flew terribly. A cage had a bird inside. The bird was golden, fluffy, and seemed to be half drunk. No telling what form of gambling that was. Maybe people passed it around until the bird barfed on someone.

    "Hah!" Laughter escaped me as realization dawned. What better way to talk to a Voice of Chance and Gambling then to gamble on what it would like?

    "Alright, here''s my proposal." I waved the coin around. "Heads, whatever Voices preside over Chance come down for a talk."

    "Tails, you apply a penalty of your choice once I''m down on the world." The feast had taught me that there were penalties in this game.

    Wait. This wasn''t a two sided coin was it? I checked both ends. A dragon tail on one side and a head was on the other. Good enough for me. I flipped the coin let the ground catch it. My next trick would be to ignore the coins outcome for a bit and use [Identification] on more items.

    "This makes no sense." A table nearby had cards. They weren¡¯t the normal decks though. This was more like a tarot set. Images were all different and had strange suits. Instead of diamonds there was a footprint. Instead of spades there was a scale off some beast, probably a dragon again.

    I shuffled the worn deck as kindly as I could then turned some over. First was a mask, much like the one on the Jester. It¡¯s expression nearly mocking with a half mad grin and sunken eyes. Jester¡¯s suit was a beast footprint. Trails of blood hung around the cards border belaying violence in the background.

    "Very funny." I muttered.

    The next two were vaguely interesting as well. One was a representation of Maud. Her suit was that of a burning fire over a brick which might mean home and hearth. Surrounding her was a litter of grasping children. I smiled. The look on her face was less exhausted and closer to exasperated.

    The last was a man in a duster that I hadn''t seen before. He might have been in the portion I skipped over when looking through the Voices pictures.

    "Huh." He looked sort of snappy with only slight stubble. Clearly human though, so not belonging to any of the fantastic races. His suit was fine without a single hair out of place. The guy almost seemed like a well dressed pool shark. I could see it. At least his sleeves weren''t lined in stupid gambling symbols or anything similar.

    There was a clink behind me. I turned around feeling amazed. That noise ushered in memories from decades ago.

    "Pool?" Numbers on the balls weren''t the same. They looked almost like roman numerals. Table felt was an off red instead of the standard green. Everything about the table screamed makeshift. Next to it was a man with a pool cue who was dressed nearly the same as my earlier tarot draw. He was chalking one end with a lazy half-smile.

    "Pool. Another game brought over by you Visitors. I rather like it."

    ¡°Nice tie.¡±

    ¡°Want it?¡±

    ¡°Not my style.¡± I paused.  ¡°Why pool? More skill than Chance?" This man didn''t seem like a complete gambler. My initial appraisal was that he preferred a risk of uncertainty mixed with personal hard work and knowledge.

    "Gambles a gamble. It¡¯s a matter of guessing skill. You up for a game?" The pool player had basically announced that this could be another measure of my abilities.

    "Sure." I stepped past the coin and took note of the dragon tail displaying. Looks like I failed, but gained attention anyway.

    "Your go then." The balls had already been broken and the other man hadn''t sunk anything. His scatter was pretty good so I had a few choices.

    I walked around the table and tried to figure out if there were any obvious bumps or curves. One of the pockets looked a bit makeshift compared to the regulation tables I played on during my teens. My cousins had been pool sharks. Not me, I just visited. Still, I knew the rules. At least whoever had created the game in Continue had kept the stripes and solids.

    "Which ones the eight ball?" An eight ball shouldn¡¯t be sunk until the end. Too early and it would be a loss. Kind of like a landmine on the table.

    "The Black Dragon Egg over there is last."

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Results:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Black Dragon Egg]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    The [Black Dragon Egg] is used to mark the last ball to be sunk in a pocket. This entry is specifically for a game of skill and chance. Do not confuse this with a[Black Dragon Egg]. The later involves skill and chance with a [Dragon]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning:

    [Dragon](s) are not a discovery made by this Traveler. Further information currently unavailable. Entry will be updated as information is discovered.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The messages were waved away so I could see the table. Careful aim was applied to sink one of the stripes.  Another two shots were successful before missing. The cue I chose was actually fairly nice. My hands ran up and down the pole in amazement of the craftsmanship. They managed to replicate the smooth feel of a polished cue but still kept some of the wooden grain so it almost curved.

    The man in a Duster, whom I assumed was a Voice like James and Maud, returned two balls before a miss. That made us even. I smiled and made another shot. Sinking one of his and setting me back. A half smile, scowl, thing, had crossed my face. He smirked in a lazy sort of way from under his hat''s brim just before sinking another two.

    I rolled my eyes and put another four in. Two went in at once from a split shot, and the fourth was accidental. We were even now. While he took his next shot I played with the dice on the table. Feeling their weight, casting a few throws. They were the standard six sided.

    "This one of ours? Or yours?"

    "Ours."

    "Guess that explains the color." These dice were yellow cubes instead of the normally polished white. "You have any other types of dice?"

    "Mh. Didn''t like them. One hundred sides on a dice seemed a bit much."

    "Silly right? Still, some loved them. Probably because it helped them replicate something your world does with more realism." Here I was filling the other man¡¯s silence with mindless chatter. He hadn¡¯t really been the talking type so far.

    "Your turn."

    "Oh." I wandered over and looked at the table. He managed to sink another few and retain the lead. This time there was no good shot. He had effectively boxed me behind the [Black Dragon Egg].

    I sighed and pondered how to do this.

    Trick shot time. I lined up the stick and ball, angled my shot sharply, and managed to hop the ball over his into mine. Just the bouncing tap had managed to sink one of mine hanging near a pocket. My teeth clenched as the cue ball rolled backwards and gave the [Black Dragon Egg] a tap.

    ¡°Whew.¡±

    I fired another shot on the far end of the table just to return the favor. All of remaining balls were lined up near the [Black Dragon Egg]. Any shot he did from here would have to be carefully placed. Of course, attempt at thwarting the machine was mostly useless. An artificial intelligence, that specialized in gambling and chance, could easily make this shot. The man in a Duster sunk another one and managed to leave the [Black Dragon Egg] untouched.

    I hung my head with a weak chuckle as he finished up his last two and moved onward. He called the shot and sunk the [Black Dragon Egg] easily.

    ¡°Oh well.¡±

    ¡°You tried.¡±

    ¡°Did you want to talk about the Casino thing?¡±

    ¡°Sure. The least I could do for a loser is hear him out.¡± He braced both arms over the cue tip and waited for me to explain. That spawned another twenty minutes of conversation where I tried to tell him how a Casino worked. Winners were few, odds were in The House''s favor. Places designed to be as much distraction as anything else. Kind of like this entire game. I had lost the coin toss and the round of Pool.

    Finally, satisfied, the man in his Duster tipped his hat and faded out. I was left with a popup window.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Event!

    Poor Pool Performance

    Playing pool perhaps isn¡¯t your strong suit. Even though you understood the rules, your skills weren¡¯t enough to challenge the Voice of Gambling.

    Despite your pitiful demonstration he¡¯s listened to what you¡¯ve said (He goes by Ray). Ray will provide his followers a chance to gain favor by establishing their own Casinos. They will be modeled in the very method you described.

    Followers deciding to pursue this will have to complete a number of quests for approval from local landowners. In addition they must seek cooperation with whatever underworld guilds are nearby. Finally they will need to find employees capable of surviving a seedy situation. All in the name of fame and money!

    For introducing this quest chain you get¡­

    ? 0.001% of all proceeds as a monthly stipend

    ? A Coin (1) - Rare

    ? Divine Attention +3

    However, you risked much to gain Ray¡¯s attention.

    ? All luck based activities suffer -10% to results for one year

    ? All Casinos¡¯ established will welcome you, but Ray¡¯s mark is even more noticeable inside. (-50% to all luck based activities)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Well.¡± I flicked off the notification and looked around. Nearby was the tails displaying coin. This little thing had been the main reason for those negative bonuses. Still, divine attention had to be worth something.

    The proceeds portion seemed absurdly low but after a year in game it might just be an insane goldmine. Not that I cared about gold in a game. Especially recently. If it was the same as how I treated money I would probably end up giving most of it away. My niece might enjoy it. Maybe my parents played and could use something.

    ¡°What¡¯s next James?¡± The room of chance still existed. Things tended to fade back to basics quickly after the event notice popped up.

    A cage near by started rattling. I turned to see thedrunk bird and something else crawling around hissing.

    ¡°Alright little guy.¡± It looked like the [Messenger''s Pet] had found his way back into our event room. Now he was trying to get at the bird inside and failing to elicit any response. In fact the drunken bird almost seemed to be unaware of the dragon tearing around the outside of its cage.

    ¡°Whoa now. Don¡¯t do that!¡± And over they went.

    That got the bird''s attention. One of its extra-large eyes on a fluffy head had tried to zero in on the dragon. Comprehension was slowly coming to life as it fumbled both legs around and tried to sit up straight. I ran over and tried to pry the miniature dragon off the cage. Even as feisty as it was, the thing only had claws the size of a tiny cat.

    I regretted trying to pick it up almost instantly. The tiny thing nipped and clawed at my arms.  A red bar that had to be my health flashed on to the screen and went lower with each line of blood drawn.

    ¡°What is wrong with you?¡± I didn¡¯t know what would happen if he did manage to get to the bird who was still trying to figure out how to stand up. The thing would sway and half squawk in confusion.

    I didn¡¯t have the mental focus to try and trigger my identify skill so I went vocal.

    ¡°Identification.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Skill Used:[Identification]

    Results:[Lorlell Cova Bird]

    Details: Male Lorlell Cova Bird¡¯s are extremely violent towards other species of birds. Or anything with wings. They are often sedated and used for mortal combat against others of their species.[/align]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Why are you trying to piss off the drugged bird?¡± I lost my grip on the tiny dragon and things went downhill from there. The [Messenger''s Pet] leapt onto the bird cage and sent it rolling around the floor.

    The ensuing show was like a hamster that lost all traction on the wheel. Spinning resulted in feathers, squawking and clanking nails against metal garnered more screeches. Finally the bird snapped and went violent. Suddenly the ball of feathers puffed up to almost double the prior size. The tiny dragon was still huffing and hissing. His jaw worked to spit fire and failed due to an empty tank.

    I flipped a table and held it awkwardly like a shield between me and the outraged bird. The puffball fighting bird was huge now and from the violent sounds considered the tiny dragon to be an enemy. My dragon buddy seemed to be losing. I scanned the games and tried to find anything useful.

    Oh, right, I had access to tons of makeshift weapons. This was one step away from a barroom brawl movie. First up was the pool cue. I grabbed it with a free hand and jabbed one end towards the fighting creatures. Between my table shield and pool cue spear I felt practically Spartan.

    ¡°Hey. Hey.¡± I thrust one end at them. It was hard to feel super worried for myself since they were both shorter than my knee.

    ¡°Stop that.¡± I poked at the larger ball of feathers. My makeshift staff hit nothing and sunk deep without visual effect.

    The [Messenger''s Pet] was torn up and had gashes in his wigs from where the [Lorlell Cova Bird] had refused to let go.

    ¡°Knock it off!¡± I swung the pool cue downward and bonked the [Lorlell Cova Bird] on the head. Which was a bad, bad, bad idea.

    ¡°Hurrr.¡± If anything it got bigger. I flinched in panic and threw a table at the puffball bird. That worked against me. The [Lorlell Cova Bird] made a noise and beady eyes crossed, but maybe two seconds later it was up and diving at me. My calf was bit as I ran around kicking like a scared schoolgirl.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Failure to dodge noted.

    Total health loss: 10%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I tipped another table, then everything on from a table near the dartboards. Everything in range became a projectile or obstacle against the bird until the bird stopped moving and just lay there. The tiny dragon proceeded to huff and growl until our situation became clear. Our bird enemy was down for the count and completely out of it. [Messenger''s Pet] stood up on top of the smaller creature and puffed a smoke ring into its face.

    ¡°Yeah, all you, beating up a drugged bird. Good job.¡±

    The small dragon nodded and rolled the bird over with his claws.

    ¡°Whoopie.¡± I muttered, looking at the scattered remains..

    ¡°Why do that?¡± James was back and seemed amused.

    ¡°Which part?¡± Had we really just fought off an angry bird? Just the idea had me laughing. I did look a little piggy.

    ¡°All of it.¡±

    ¡°With Ray I wanted to see what would happen. With the bird it was to keep little guy from being torn up.¡± The [Messenger''s Pet] was looking smug and licking his wounds. Every so often he chirped a pleased tone.

    Slowly an absolute wreck from dozens of games faded away. Best of all was not looking like a childish army had torn up the toy room.

    I huffed.

    ¡°Next?¡±

 Book 1, Memories; Session Seven - Wrapped up

    <cite></cite>¡°Can we skip this one?¡± I muttered. My mouth was presently unwrapped but the rest of me was bound and tied up in who knows what.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Webbed!

    Movement restricted by 95%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Not yet, Grant Legate.¡±

    ¡°But we can chat.¡± I gave it my best dry sarcastic tone. If only James could see my rolling eyes. Maybe he could with all his computer program powers.

    ¡°Of course, if you¡¯re not too tied up right now.¡±

    ¡°I am, a little.¡± The voice could deliver a deadpan line and seemed indifferent to my attempts to return the favor.

    ¡°So try to get out of the web instead.¡± His advice wasn¡¯t even remotely useful. I hadn¡¯t actually asked him a question though. I wiggled halfheartedly.

    ¡°Not happening.¡±

    ¡°Maybe some encouragement would motivate you.¡± James said.

    ¡°Spiders?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Spiders.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t feel them under this webbing.¡± I tried to deny that the idea of anything crawling over me was unwelcome and disturbing.

    ¡°How about very, big, spiders?¡± He sounded amused. His face probably had that sly grin on it again.

    ¡°That¡¯s gross.¡± Me and my stupid mouth had resulted in badness. Now there was a clear sound in the distance. Something very, very, big was scuttling around nearby. I started to really struggle.

    ¡°No James. This is not nice.¡±

    ¡°How am I to accurately measure your skills if you don¡¯t try even try?¡± James turned sour. He had expressed disappointment during a few of our trial events.

    ¡°Ask nicely!¡± I shouted the answer to his ill-timed question while trying to roll away. My back jabbed into something sharp. Free fingertips felt around for the edges. A clicking noise grew closer. Images of giant mandibles and long legs went through my mind. I frantically rubbed my arms against the sharp outcropping nearby.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Desire to hurt yourself noted

    Total health loss: 15%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Update: Still webbed!

    Fingers Freed: Movement restricted by 85%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I hate you right now.¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Because small spiders are one thing, large ones are just bullshit.¡± This was just a game.  This was just a game. This was just a game.

    ¡°Spiders are very common in our world. There a breed located in the Dessert of Tali that can fly.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Location Update!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Knowledge received</td>

    <td colspan="3">Dessert of Tali</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">The Dessert of Tali contains spiders that can fly. Further details will be added as information is learned

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°No there aren¡¯t.¡± My immediate denial just blocked the whole concept out.

    ¡°There are indeed.¡± James calmly refuted.

    "I don''t believe in flying spiders." Maybe if I said those words enough all of them would die. It worked for faeries according to my childhood television watching.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Demonstrated:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Denial]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Basic</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Unranked</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Specialties:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Unknown</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Denial is a powerful and dangerous ability. Further information will be provided upon finalization of the mentioned skill.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I¡¯m never going to go there.¡± The noise drew closer. I could have tried to be quiet but there was no chance of me being a stealthy person. I would sweat when nervous, stutter occasionally. Emotional speeches were the worst.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help:

    Demonstrated skills are not learned skills. They provide no bonuses and are used by the world of Continue Online to assist in the discovery of skills. Most learned skills require a demonstration of the basic concept prior to being granted.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Later!¡± Something was close by. I could feel the air shift across the exposed portions of my face and arms. The tone of chattered changed. It, they maybe, had found me. I sawed enough to get my arm loose and started tearing away at the bindings around my face to clear my vision.

    ¡°Oh God.¡± That was a giant spider. That was a really giant spider. Oh God, there were two of them. I think I wet myself. Only a little bit. No, I had, there was a popup that even told me of the condition of my pants.

    What happened from there on was pure chaos in my mind. I twisted out of the way of jabbing legs trying to spear me. My foot kicked at the ground trying to get an inch away. Another giant ugly spider attacked. It missed my midsection and tore into an arm. I wiggled free a bit more and was wiggling like a fish, no a dolphin, in a net.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Failure to dodge noted.

    Total health loss: 20%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Oh God.¡± Prayer wasn¡¯t enough, this was a test. I don¡¯t know of what. My eyes were all half bound but there was a red bar that flashed with green as it dripped down.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Poisoned!

    Health will lower over time unless treated.

    Total health loss: 25%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Poison? Are you kidding me?!¡± I kicked off again and made it another few feet. These things were big, strong, scary, but somewhat slower than one would expect a spider to be.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not, Grant Legate.¡±

    ¡°Stop calling me that!¡± Panic was rapidly removing my happy place.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that, Grant, Legate.¡± James was definitely entertained. I growled and got a mouthful of webbing which nearly caused me to choke.

    ¡°Come on!¡± I failed to escape the latest one. Pain shot through my leg causing me to bunch up. This was just a game.

    ¡°This is your last test Grant Legate. Do try to excel. You¡¯re woefully behind your peers who do our trails.¡±

    ¡°Of course I am.¡± Mouthful of web in my face made the declaration muffled. I managed to get a foot under me and was now hopping away from spiders that were taller than I was. Watching myself during a highlight reel might be extremely funny. Everything was painful. My chest hurt and wheezed. My limited eyesight was getting fuzzy. Fingernails were bloody and arms torn.

    Everything hurt.

    Everything.

    This was worse than the weapons practice James had made me do. A burly man had demanded I strike a wooden dummy for an hour before switching to the next weapon. Every time I failed or hesitated the burly man would hit me. James was smiling the whole time. I logged out twice during that and huffed around my house in anger.

    This was worse than the trial two episodes ago where a frighteningly realistic people from my life berated and tried to tear me down. I had spent two days offline during that ruthless situation, but still came back. That army of people hadn¡¯t said anything that was new to me.  Plus, as I spent time outside the ARC, it became clear that those people had been missing a lot of details. My mother hated my father half the time but never told anyone in public. The game version of her acted completely lovey when talking about dad, but my real mother would have badmouthed him at least once.

    The petting zoo had been nice. Odd, but nice. They even let me ride something that looked like a stocky llama. This, this weird dim cave with spiders was hell. I kept hopping while the arachnids lumbered behind me. An exit. There had to be an exit.

    ¡°Where do I go from here?¡±

    ¡°Out!¡± James voice sounded further away, but still fairly close.

    ¡°Which way is that?!¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just die? It¡¯s much easier to just give up.¡± And that hurt. James managed to sound like every personal demon that had haunted me over the years.

    ¡°No! Besides, it¡¯s not like I¡¯d die for real!¡± I managed to duck around a rock and pulled at more webbing. My legs were mostly free now, the rest of me wasn¡¯t.

    ¡°Right, it¡¯s much easier to give up.¡± James had this tone that was starting to irk me. I had selected him and it felt like he was trying to drive me away. ¡°Just, let yourself be killed.¡± He offered.

    ¡°No!¡±

    I got most of my arms free and found some more objects to throw at the approaching giant spiders. Their faces dripped with something unwholesome and off color. Was that meat around the edges of their jaws? [Identification] revealed they were the leftover bits of a former victim.

    ¡°Why are you trying just now? Was it the spiders?¡±

    ¡°I hate giant spiders!¡± One of them was too close. The little flashing bar to the side was under a third. Green still flooded the inside and would pulse every so often. Fire. I needed the biggest ball of flame possible to burn them to a shrieking pile of goo. Bugs did not cope well with being lit on fire. But, but I had no matches, I had no fire.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a phobia. If it were, you would be a drooling mess.¡±

    ¡°I hate them.¡± Words drifted off as I stood up. Finally now I was seeing one completely unobstructed. Its face was messed up and fractured. Hair and bulging eyes made up the key features. Each of the eight legs arched higher than my shoulder.

    The digital representation of food chose that moment of terror to finish passing through my system. Part of me regretted eating so much at the King¡¯s Feast. The rest of me just hoped that it would all be over soon.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Soiled!

    You have defiled your trousers. Relations with other people will suffer a penalty until you¡¯ve cleansed your clothes.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I ran, trying to find a path that angled upward. Hopefully outward towards freedom. Rocks were thrown behind me in a huff. Each vague connection would buy me another few precious seconds to escape. From the my peripheral of my eye a limb could be seen reaching out and barely missing.

    ¡°I need fire. Need fire.¡± I was running my mouth in complete rambles.

    Wait.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you cupcakes if you set these guys on fire!¡± I shouted in desperation, hoping the little dragon guy was floating around in the cyberspace nearby. ¡°Lots of cupcakes! Cookies! More creamer!¡±

    I plead and kept running. Behind me I heard a click and a huff. The spiders¡¯ chattering tone changed. Heat flashed lighting up the entire dim passageway with warmth. Shrill sounds filled the air like a baby screaming one high and constant note. I covered my ears then risked looking backwards.

    The little dragon stood, huffing out a stream of flame that had caught two of the spiders. He coughed another few little blasts and hopped around happily. Two bundles of former terror were curling into twitchy balls while the high pitched whine slowly died. Another spider was clearly fleeing in the distance.

    ¡°Cupcakes. I owe you so many cupcakes.¡± My words slurred and drool dribbled out my mouth. Poison caught up. The health bar reached zero while Continue Online went dark to the boasting tune of a tiny dragon.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You have Died!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    With that awesome message I logged out of the ARC and stomped around my house. Death had struck a second time. A penalty of eight hours was applied and logging back in would be blocked. It was pretty minor overall, but eight hours in reality was twenty four in game. Additionally I would lose skills and character points. My niece had explained that sometimes other punishments happened depending on what was going on.

    I confirmed with Beth that my prize was a copy of Continue Online. She spent an hour babbling about different bits of information and repeatedly asking for my log in information. My refusal was taken in stride since I wanted to surprise everyone. That and I hadn¡¯t actually created a character name. I was torn between getting a name and punching James in the face for those giant spiders.

    After my disturbing experience a walk outside was needed. I flashed a hand over the external ARC display to put it into sleep mode.  My Atrium was a giant mess and that little dragon was once again tearing into cabinets. I sighed and opened up the shopping interface from outside. Moments later there was a fully stocked counter with fruits and other goods. I even spent the three dollars on a virtual cake. The small terror sent wrapping paper flying all over my digital house. Programming should auto clean up all that trash if left alone long enough. Or maybe not. Glass shards still lined one side of the room.

    ¡°How the heck did you alter the program that much?¡± I poked a finger through the holographic display. ¡°You better clean up after yourself this time.¡±

    The [Messenger''s Pet] had two spiders chasing me aflame. Even though I died it was worth the price of virtual food. Assuming he hadn¡¯t broken the program enough to require restocking. I better disable remote access to my Atrium from family and friends. Last thing I wanted to explain was my new pet. A part time miniature dragon was miles better than cats. Odd that no one had thought of putting one into the ARC online store. Maybe they couldn¡¯t program something that complicated or it hadn¡¯t been approved by the company. Cats went anywhere from fifty dollars on up, all for something that wasn¡¯t real.

    My first week off from work was nearly over. Time dilatation wasn¡¯t set that high yet according to James. Accordingly the game minutes were the same as real time. Henry Uldum had extended my one week vacation to two. That was useful I guess. My coworkers had sent me nasty messages about how I was cutting into their lazy time. None showed any signs of being aware that I picked up the Ultimate Edition.

    Progress inside the program hadn¡¯t exactly been stellar. All the events combined to put me on par with an entry level character. Only the event results seemed different. And one tiny dragon that was now wallowing in wrapping remains like it was catnip.

    I sighed and walked outside for fresh air.

    Each movement hurt. These feedback bands were effective. Articles online explained the science away by reciting nerve ending activation signals. Comparing them to a real workout showed an almost ninety percent gap. Playing the game and exercising, however minor, was worthwhile.

    An hour later, after I made it down to the store for supplies, I was ready to log in again. I spent a few minutes in the Atrium and straightened out the mess left behind. Post cleanup allowed me to see glass refreshing inside the cabinet and food repopulating on the shelves. My little dragon buddy hadn¡¯t completely broken the Atrium¡¯s programming. There were still two doors open, one to the dance program, and one to Continue. I hadn¡¯t been able to touch the dance one since the strange possession of my fiancee''s image.

    Continuing through Continue was the only real option. I stepped inside. The room was dark once again. Dim light brought attention to the middle where a familiar pillar and book sat open waiting. James stood there, arms crossed, looking pleased.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    ¡°You made it!¡± James sounded surprised.

    I glared.

    ¡°Were you upset?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t happy.¡± I looked at the dragon that was pacing around on top of the book. ¡°Thanks little guy.¡± My small dragon pal hummed and did a few circles trying to chase its lengthy tail.

    ¡°That¡¯s not a very good answer.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± I had been upset. The walk helped. Humming the a song from my dance program and imaging the motions put me back into a happier frame of mind.

    ¡°Very well. Your turn Grant Legate.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s fix that next.¡± I tried not to grind my teeth.

    ¡°You have the power to change things Grant Legate, as I¡¯ve told you before.¡±

    ¡°I just need to pick a character name.¡±

    ¡°And write it down here.¡± James seemed to have everything already prepared. Part of me should be disturbed that my next goal was so easily read by a computer.

    The thought of a character name had crossed my mind over the last few days. Specifically when James, or one of the other Voices, persisted on using my first and last name. The problem was that most of my game names from years ago were a few flavors of stupid. My past names include; television show characters,cartoon characters, comic heroes, and more. None of them seemed appropriate for a game like this.

    ¡°Second thoughts Grant Legate?¡±

    ¡°Trouble deciding.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve always found it interesting, the names your kind use. We had a girl who went by Sword Princess, but she prefers a staff. One man who called himself Shadow, among another fifty with the same name.¡±

    ¡°That sounds about right.¡± I bet Shadow liked to stealth around in game and stab people in the back. Very mysterious I¡¯m sure. Forty of the fifty were probably utter jokes and half a poser each. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Other players name themselves after fantasy lives they¡¯ve built. Some chose heroes or people they aspire to be. Great names in your world, founding fathers, names that mean powerful things.¡±

    ¡°None of that sounds like me.¡±

    ¡°What kind of experience do you want to have within our world?¡± James asked.

    ¡°I just want a dis¡­¡±

    ¡°A distraction. Yes. Is life in your world so terrible?¡±

    I stood over the book, quill in hand, small dragon rolling around in boredom, and decided how to answer. James often asked inane little questions but sometimes he poked the tender spots too.

    ¡°No. Not really James. Just, too familiar sometimes.¡±

    ¡°Familiarity is bad?¡±

    ¡°Reliving the past is painful.¡±

    ¡°Yet you dance with a false image of your deceased fianc¨¦e, and indeed have danced with her for over a year now.¡± I hadn¡¯t actually told James that she had passed. I rarely let myself admit it. Hearing it out loud was like a punch in the gut. Part of me would welcome the giant spiders right about now.

    ¡°You crave a distraction. You focus on work with an almost zealous fever, so much so that your manager forced you to take a vacation.¡± He had clearly done his homework when accessing my ARC.

    ¡°James.¡± I clenched my eyes. Finally the man had found something truly painful to ask about. Yet it wasn¡¯t even the asking, it was laying it all bare. When I did it the situation was under my control. My terms. When someone else did it everything felt so much more real and painful.

    ¡°Here you are, on the verge of a new world. You can choose to reinvent yourself, to throw caution to the wind, yet you can¡¯t even decide a new name.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that easy.¡± I protested.

    ¡°Really? Tell that to a father who walks away from his family. Tell that to a person who quits their job without a moment¡¯s hesitation. To a drugged up woman who chooses another high over their child.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t done any of those things."

    ¡°So? Those are just examples, Grant Legate.¡± James almost spat the words. I wanted to be mad but the only thing in my vision was that stupid quill and a blank space. ¡°Your world and ours both allow people these chances, however right or wrong. Anyone can walk away and reinvent themselves."

    "It''s not that easy just to be someone different."

    "Bah. People are who they chose to be, every moment of everyday defines them. You¡¯ve defined yourself as a workaholic who can¡¯t let go of the past. Why?¡±

    ¡°Because¡­¡±

    ¡°Why, not, just, let, go?¡± Each word sounded like a drum.

    ¡°Because I don¡¯t want to let go!¡±

    ¡°Then be distracted. Pick a name. Visit another world. Be someone else and maybe you¡¯ll find something else to hold onto.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to let go of her.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s already gone from your world.¡± James'' words hurt.

    I was beyond painfully aware that she was gone. Identifying her body was a pretty clear indicator. Her parting hadn''t been slow or peaceful, no, our separation had been swift and sudden. Even now it felt like an open wound that only stayed together with duct tape and prayer. And what did James mean by gone from my world? Dead is dead. I spun on the other man.

    ¡°What are you saying? Is that some clever hint? Is this some messed up trick relating to how she came to life over there?¡± Just three words had sent me into momentary rage. That frightening moment of realism that wasn¡¯t caused by a sudden patch. ¡°Is she in your world somehow? You owe me answers.¡±

    ¡°Not exactly Grant Legate.¡±

    The bottom of my sanity dropped even further.

    ¡°Not exactly what?¡± I spat the words back at the large black man. He seemed indifferent to the anger.

    ¡°She¡¯s not exactly in our world.¡±

    ¡°Explain that James. Explain what the hell that means or I¡¯ll shove this quill up your ass!¡± I took a step towards the computer program and he didn¡¯t even flinch. His face didn¡¯t change from the stern button lipped expression.

    ¡°We can¡¯t explain it Mister Grant Legate.¡± There was a little girl behind me. She was the same youngster who took Maud¡¯s charge before. ¡°We have rules.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t some fucked up ploy is it, to, to, to.¡± To what? What might possess a computer to try and mess with any human to this extent? Happy place, I had to get back to my happy place. I tried to remember the opening chords to a waltz.

    ¡°We do not rely on smoke and mirrors to entice people to visit our world. You either choose to, or don¡¯t.¡± James said, still standing in the same spot, but slightly turned towards the other Voices.

    ¡°Is this some fucked up Ultimate Edition thing?¡±

    ¡°Yes and no. We might never have noticed you without your proof of ownership. However these types of things are common for anyone who attracts our attention.¡± James answered a question with some actual detail, finally. It also explained why I had a trait for [Divine Attention].

    ¡°Then what is going on?¡± Alien plot? Crazy theory on the afterlife? Alternate reality? No, that wasn¡¯t fair, the name ARC stood for Alternate Reality Capsule. My job with Trillium had been going on for over a year now. No way did these things combine into a portal or anything that strange.

    ¡°Give me something James, or I¡¯ll just walk away and delete this stupid thing. Ultimate Edition, whims of the universe, and my boss, be damned.¡±

    ¡°I cannot do that, Grant Legate.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°Because I am not allowed.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying my fiancee is in this stupid game?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± He sounded firm and absolute. ¡°Your fiancee is dead.¡±

    ¡°Then what¡¯s going on?¡± I waved around my arm in anger.

    ¡°Tut. Something of her is still here.¡± Another voice came out of the darkness. I turned and saw a small light over Maud¡¯s tired body. She gave an empty smile.

    ¡°You do not have permission to interfere.¡± James said.

    ¡°We make the rules James, you know that. Tut. You owe Mister Grant Legate an answer, by your own deal you¡¯ve fallen behind a ways.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± There was a pause while James ordered himself and did a mental count. ¡°I suppose I have fallen a bit behind.¡±

    I wanted to rip all the pages out of this stupid book and pull the tiny dragon¡¯s tail to start a fire. I would bend the creature over like a flamethrower and torch every last piece of material.

    ¡°I can perhaps trade many little owed answers for a chance at a bigger one. None of us are allowed to fully explain, but I can show you, if you wish to detour.¡± The room suddenly got a lot more crammed and things spun. It felt like time compression had kicked in at a high degree.  This was more than four to one. My perception of the digital world about me slowed to a snails pace.

    Voices, all the Voices, were talking about this situation.

    ¡°That would be good.¡± Maud affirmed. ¡°You''ve my approval.¡±

    ¡°Sounds amusing. I always did have a soft spot for the old goat.¡± The Temptress was nearby. All I noticed besides her voice was a brush of fingertips. They slid across my cheek from behind and a bout of desire surged.

    ¡°He can¡¯t handle filling that man¡¯s shoes. He can¡¯t even hold in his own piss!¡± Drill Sergeant yelled across the room, reminding me of the lack of self-control giant spiders had induced upon me. Spittle still cleared the distance.

    ¡°I¡¯m against it.¡± The Drill Sergeant said prior to fading out.

    ¡°Let Mister Grant Legate do it.¡± The young girl¡¯s voice was next. Her face almost hidden behind a book she raised like a shield towards the Drill Sergeant¡¯s former presence.

    Silent and angry faded in. She still wore the same white flowing dress and little sign of anything else. Her eyes looked off into the distance and her head shook back and forth slowly. What were they voting on? Could computers vote on something to do with me?

    ¡°Do it. Everyone deserves a chance.¡± The man in the Duster faded in. He rattled something around in his hands. A woman hung over his shoulder and seemed to be looking down her nose at me with an indifferent expression. Her dress hugged the curves all too tightly.

    ¡°What¡­¡± I tried to ask.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The Jester clacked. It appeared behind the two Voices of chance, they frowned and faded away. The mask seemed darkly teasing as always. ¡°These visitors are such fickle creatures. You want him to play a part, but is his heart able to be someone else?¡±

    "...is...¡± My next word was stuttered and slow compared to the Voices speech. Even the Jester''s clacking voice made more sense than I did.

    ¡°I think Grant Legate desperately wants to be someone else. We give him a stage, a face, and hold onto the role a little bit longer.¡± James said with a serious expression. He seemed so frumpy next to the Jester mask.

    ¡°And we cover it up?" The Jester said.

    "...going on..." I ground out the words.

    ¡°Yes. Provided he does well enough. A fitting end, another moment more would be enough to send him forth with something greater than a whisper in the night.¡± James answered.

    ¡°And would he approve?¡± For a moment if felt like the Jester was glaring straight at me while he spoke. Maybe he was. His eyes held only darkness and that smile never left. The Voices kept on talking while I tried to move forward.

    ¡°Based on my observations, yes.¡±

    ¡°And Mother?¡± The Jester asked.

    ¡°Has she ever disapproved of our actions?¡±

    ¡°We only function as we were created. Isn¡¯t that right, James.¡± Jester¡¯s tone always seemed mocking. Though an exact impression was impossible. Its words were very similar to Hal Pal¡¯s in that way. Robotic, passive, this Jester was clearly not human.

    ¡±You¡¯ll explain it?¡± Maud was still nearby and sounded apprehensive. Distant cries of children leaping around her filled the empty air before fading off.

    ¡°In a way that makes sense.¡± James responded.

    ¡°Good. I have my role, but even I would not tarnish his ending.¡± The Jester said.

    ¡°So you approve?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± A smiling mask haunted my slowed vision as it faded away.

    ¡°Then we have a majority.¡±

    "...here?" I finally got the last word out when light flashed and time abruptly sped back up. They had done all that taking while my mind crawled through mire. I fell forward while trying to reach out for James.

    All the other Voices had left the room. The pillar and book were still present. Even the little dragon seemed undisturbed. James was looking off into the distance and seemed uncaring as I pulled myself up. Everything felt uncomfortable and my head spun.

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain a moment Grant Legate.¡±

    ¡°I need a better name.¡± That was the first thing out of my mouth. Not demanding answers, just being annoyed. James played me like a fiddle.

    ¡°Eventually, yes. For now, I have another offer.¡± James turned and crossed both his hands over his belly.

    ¡°Yeah. I guessed something was up.¡± Not that I was clear on the finer details. There were a lot of questions floating around my brain but James had basically stated he was using them all up for this proposal.

    "Would you like to know more?"

    "Sure." I said dryly. Clearly the demands uttered forth from my mouth weren¡¯t blunt enough. My patience was nearly saintly to suffer through this without trying to strangle the man. Or AI, or Voice, whatever.

    "One of our long time denizens has ceased to function properly." James said.

    "Someone from your world." I tried to focus on my calming techniques. Step one, respond to the question at hand, don¡¯t stress about what¡¯s gone before. Step two, look forward. Step three, think of something that made me happy, such as music and dance.

    "A very well-known figure. Mostly retired, he was quiet famous decades ago."

    "And he''s dead." I said.

    "Effectively. Death in our world holds many meanings." That made sense. A computer probably had a much different concept than humans.

    "What does this have to do with me?"

    "We''ve decided to offer you a unique chance to view our land. Would you like to see something no one else from your world has?"

    "If it gets me answers, sure. But I''m still not clear on what you actually want." I wasn''t focusing right anyway. Part of my mind was trying to recall the feet placement for a brisk beat. The pop and lock movements of high tempo music were still a bit awkward for me.

    "We are willing to let you choose to take up his mantle for a limited time. To be precise, four weeks of our time. One week in your world." James said.

    "You want me to be someone from your world, who died?" My head drew back and one eye squinted slightly with confusion.

    "In essence, yes."

    "That''s strange." Beyond odd actually. The Voices wanted me to pretend to be someone else? How on earth would this lead to an answer about my fiancee? I had nothing else to go on. James wasn''t going to answer my question. Once the man said no, he stuck with it. Only harassment from the other Voices had even gotten us this far.

    "Will you?" James, ever the questioning man, asked. I had a hard time seeing any downside. Pretending to be someone else would be a very interesting distraction.

    "I''ll get help, right? I can''t just act as someone else without information."

    "Yes. You''ll receive information about his life as you interact with the world, much the same as any others who travel to our world will."

    "I guess." A chance to understand this world more? To understand exactly what this mystery was surrounding my fianc¨¦e? Sure. "Yeah. I''ll do it."

    A door slid out of the ground complete with a bright light and everything. It was so cheesy I laughed.

    ¡°A question before I go James.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll indulge you Grant Legate.¡± I closed my eyes and counted to three. Hopefully a good name would occur to me within these four weeks.

    ¡°What sort of game is this exactly?¡± Strange tests and altered programming was just the tip of our insanity iceberg. Trillium and ARC had really done an amazing job with this setting. Continue really did deserve all the praise it received in reviews for throwing me off enough to make me doubt myself.

    ¡°It¡¯s no game. To us it¡¯s very real, and very serious.¡± James said.

    ¡°Yeah that¡¯s not ominous or anything.¡± I scratched at my head. A gentle tempo floated through the recesses of my mind almost setting me to dance. Keeping in motion, drowning my thoughts in the music, both helped me cope with the darker thoughts.

    ¡°Do not be mistaken. There is no intent to do you harm in here. What you do in the world is entirely up to you.¡±

    ¡°Aside from this.¡± I gestured to the doorway of white.

    ¡°This too is your choice. Be one of ours, a man named William Carver, and if you do well enough, you¡¯ll get answers.¡± He responded with that almost sly smile.

    Again I idly scratched at my head and tried not to mutter an angry reply. All the details would have to be figured out later. My next step was simple, step through the door and get an lay of the land. Afterwards I would log out and cool down. Maybe that hot tub program should be put to more use.

    My amazing restraint, built over two years of therapy and meetings, succeeded. Instead of having to deal with more of James¡¯ half answers and annoying responses there was this other option. I could step through a door into non-player character land. If nothing else, it was a distraction. I walked through the cheap doorway effect while wiping at my eyes.

 Book 1, Memories; Interlude - Everyone gets a Story

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Approximately Two and a half years Ago

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There were some things that hadn¡¯t changed over the years. Video recordings were restricted, projections, Bio-Watches, anything modern had been dialed back to keep the setting classic. We had a single publicly owned camera rolling footage for security reasons. Metal chairs, all in a circle, guys, girls, all shapes and walks of life, here to share their stories.

    Next was my turn. To finally share my hand wringing sob story. Like the others before me, and the others after me. This was the circle intended for support. Support required sharing oneself in a room of near strangers. I didn¡¯t like it, but eventually we all shared.

    ¡°My fianc¨¦e had taken a trip to Florida that morning. Part of her job application process, some tests. She left a day early and took the train because they were going to retire the public rail program to make room for the TRANS Tunnels.¡±

    ¡°I dropped her off, kissed her goodbye, and said I¡¯d see you soon.¡± Those who¡¯d shared before me all followed the same pattern. Final words to the departed mattered more than air.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know exactly what time the call came in, not until later. Four oh seven PM, for seven minutes, thirty-two seconds.¡± I¡¯d stared at my phone call log absently until the numbers were burned into the back of my retina.

    ¡°The woman on the phone told me that there had been an accident with the train. She was clinical. Maybe a robot.¡± I shook my hands from where the rubbing had pushed out too much blood.

    ¡°The train had crashed. Just, spilled over onto the interstate. Cars, passenger cart, just, just, chaos everywhere. Casualties and unidentified bodies. The woman on the phone said they were calling all sorts of family members.¡±

    ¡°I got in the car, set a destination, and let the Auto NAV take me cross country. You know, normal tragic mind numbed beyond belief stuff.¡±

    The actual ride had been much more complicated. I¡¯d made calls to my sister and parents, called my fianc¨¦e¡¯s mother and broke the news, looked up news articles. All the standard robotic actions required in order to keep everything neat and compartmentalized. My attempts at sanity were completed between bouts of screaming and raging denial.

    ¡°So I get there, identify the remains, there was no doubt, her parents had asked for a cremation, which I told them.¡± That was before the bomb that had just hammered the news to a worse level.

    ¡°The person, uhh, a doctor, I guess, he was wearing a white coat, he told me she, my, uhh, fianc¨¦e, had been pregnant. Had. Wasn¡¯t anymore. Almost three months.¡±

    ¡°I nodded, tried to smile, and just, did, did all the paperwork. The uhh, cremation, took only a few hours.¡± Modern technology painted a very clear picture of what happened. A simple turn gone wrong on the tracks, not even slightly malicious, no murder plot, one stupid accident that ended so many lives.

    ¡°A technician handed it to me, the remains, and I sat there, uhh, thinking to myself, how neat, the sum of her life and our unborn child is smaller than a breadbox.¡±

    A broken chuckle escaped me. Someone else muttered that the attempted humor wasn¡¯t funny. I just looked around, trying not to break down while avoiding eye contact.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not is it.¡± There was a pause while I tried to piece myself together once again. Something I¡¯d done over and over since she passed six months prior. In front of these people, I couldn¡¯t do it. Everything slipped.

    ¡°You know, I thought I¡¯d be stronger. I¡¯d always thought I¡¯d be cool as a ship in clear waters. I wasn¡¯t. I went back to the hotel I¡¯d rented, crawled into a bottle, and life went downhill from there.¡±

    Someone handed me a cloth because heaving sobs were all too common during these meetings. I thanked them and wrapped up so another sob story could be shared.

    ¡°So here I am, uhh, like you guys, trying to not need a bottle to get through the night.¡± I gave a weak smile and covered my face, dabbing my eyes and wondering how snotty my face was going to get this time.

    They let us take a sorely needed break. Some people¡¯s stories were harder than others. I took a breather and walked to the bathroom to compose myself. It had only been six months since she passed, but every day was a short hop away from mental Hell. The wrong thought would cause my chest to seize. Moments later and I¡¯d be fighting to unclench my hands from curled fists. A deep pain that felt like a knife would jab into my heart.

    This was meant to be the start of my attempt at self-repair, to make myself something resembling a whole human being. All these technological advances and still the human heart was a frail thing.

    Two months ago I tried to kill myself.

    Six months after that introductory meeting, on the anniversary of my fianc¨¦e''s passing, I tried again. That was my lowest point.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Approximately Two Years Ago

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "God dammit, Grant!" My sister Liz was storming around the digital representation of a tranquil riverside camping spot. We were currently engaged in an online conference call because the doctor thought it was the safest thing for my recovery. I was on all sorts of drugs so it was hard to focus on anything but the sound of water.

    "Seriously! Again! You did this to me again!" She shouted, but all that made it through was a slow drip. Her words took time to catch up.

    "I didn''t do it to you," I muttered. There was no good self-defense for trying to end my life. Intellectually the idea was absurd but suicide wasn''t about thinking. It was about feeling. "I did it to me."

    "Get it through your thick head! What you do affects me." She said. I slowly managed to tilt the virtual headset up and Liz''s face came into view. My sister was waving her arms around rapidly then crossing them. One lip was being chewed on while she thought. "God, I don''t know if I can explain this to Beth."

    "Don''t." The drugs made the word slur a bit.

    "What am I going to tell her then? That her Uncle, the man who basically acted as a father when she was young, gained a new scar by accident?" Liz glanced at me sidelong then looked away. That brief glance felt both accusing and ashamed.

    "Don''t tell Beth," I said.

    "Of course not Grant. Of course not. But I thought we were doing well. We had the meetings set up. Your counseling is going well still, right?" Liz kept pacing around the room. She managed to keep both hands under control by tucking fingers up into armpits. Every so often Liz stared at the digitally rendered sun slipping lower over the camps treeline.

    "I guess." I may have missed a few meetings. I may have ignored a few calls from my sponsor, which was a glorified way of saying a babysitter. The thought made me frown, thinking badly about him was uncharitable. Leon, the man who checked in with me once a week, had been trying hard.

    "I swear to God, when you get home I''m going to rattle all your teeth until some of this nonsense leaks out of your head." Liz stood still for a moment before stomping around again.

    "Okay, Liz," I said.

    "God dammit, Grant!"

    "I know." I kept the tone low. Longer sentences were hard to get out. Drugs had a very adverse effect upon the digital software used by ARC devices. Being sedated was bad enough but the hospital had put me into a Second Player helm. This wasn''t even a full Alternate Reality Capsule.

    Somewhere in the virtual landscape a bird chirped happily. Crickets and frogs made noise to fill the silence. None of them were real. I wasn''t comfortable in the wild anyway. Like most children of my generation, we were all city kids who rarely visited nature. There was a bench nearby that I could sit on. Liz kept weaving around it in her endless pacing.

    "Okay. Okay. We can do this. Just like last time. The doctor said you''ve got two days under observation. Then we have to put the band on you again." Liz said. She turned and started walking back towards me. Having a plan made it easier for her to focus. We both had that in common. At least we used to.

    "I know," I said slowly.

    "Then after the band is on and working you''re clear to come home," Liz looked down at my foot. That was where they would put on the ankle band. Anywhere else and it was too easy to disrupt.

    "I know." I hated the band. It was part of my insurance plan. God knows what those people would have to say about all this. Tests, price hikes, rules would change. Everything would go together and just cause me a headache once these drugs wore off. Right then I wasn''t coherent enough to have a headache.

    "And we''ll make sure there''s a car available for your meetings. I''ll start working from home a few more days a week. We can do more dinners." Liz pulled one arm out and looked at it. Her hand was shaking. My twin sister shook her head and arm rapidly then tucked it back in again.

    "Liz." I had to tell her.

    "Then we''ll have to watch things carefully again. Shit, Grant, do we have to do this every year?" Liz responded.

    "Liz." I tried to get through to her again. Maybe the Second Player helm was running poorly. Maybe the internet in my room had dropped in and out of service.

    "And what am I going to say to Beth? She''s a teen, but she isn''t stupid, Grant!" My twin sister had gone back to pacing around the room. Her footsteps were heavy enough to clomp in the grassy riverside.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    "Liz!" I shouted.

    "What, Grant?" She was only interrupted for a moment. My sister had a wild look to her eyes. "Jesus. I don''t know."

    "Thank you." I didn''t know what else to say. There wasn''t enough in the world to repay her for even trying to help me pick up the pieces. Only the drugs in my system kept the feelings of absolute powerlessness away. Every time I thought about the loss it clenched my heart. The cracks of my life were that much more obvious. And it felt like those thoughts crossed my mind all the time. Grant, the Broken Record.

    "God dammit, Grant. God dammit." Liz was crying. God how bad had I messed up? "No. No, I''m sorry. You''re recovering. I know, they said I shouldn''t take it out on you, but, Jesus!" My sister was shouting by the end.

    "Thank you, sis," I said it again.

    "Just, just sit tight. I''ll be there in a few hours." Liz still couldn''t look directly at me. The first time had been bad enough and here we were going through the whole process again. I watched my sister wave an arm in the air and her image started to fade.

    My own interface faded slowly. Both eyes were unfocused as a disconnection screen came into being. It counted down from ten. Each second was like a funeral march celebrating reality''s return. Finally, the world was mostly dark with the smallest bit of light piercing up through the helmet''s bottom. I slid the device off my head and set it on a table next to the hospital bed.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Approximately Eighteen Months Ago

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    After months of searching and calculations, I had managed to get some things straightened out. Not myself, not perfectly. My life was too far gone and even an entire roll of duct tape wouldn''t solve it. I shook my head while trying not to think about the missing piece of my life. It was nearly a year and a half since my fianc¨¦e had passed taking our unborn child with her.

    "Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Liz asked me. I was staring at a series of spreadsheets across her kitchen table. They were digital projections like so many things in life. It was easier to clean up a computer image. Plus voice commands worked when the program was well done.

    "It is." I nodded.

    "And you''re okay with this new job?" Liz sat there with a coffee mug in her hands. That was her comfort method. Often the aroma of coffee beans mixed with vanilla would spread throughout her home after a rough day. My sister didn''t like her bosses.

    "The hours are flexible. I can work as much or as little as I want." I kept my voice positive.

    "I''m still not sure if you should work for them." Liz shook her head over the mug of coffee. She wasn''t even drinking it, just sniffing. "You know how much I don''t like those machines."

    "They''re here to stay, plus this way I have job security. My old market isn''t what it used to be as the AIs improve." The degree I had in accounting and business was absolutely useless now. Machines could predict market trends and stock changes faster than any human. Their accuracy was often off the chart.

    "So you go from managing all that money to being a grease monkey for the machine?" Liz set down the cup and stared at the images scattered over her table.

    "Not even that," I said. The job was more like being a mouthpiece for the machine. My part of the work would be minimal. We both turned as my niece, Beth, bounded up the stairs. She had just come in from visiting a friend or something. It was hard to believe that she would be eighteen soon.

    "Are you still going to visit us, Uncle Grant?" Beth said while going straight for the fridge.

    "I''ll drop by a lot. I need to find my own space." I smiled at Beth. She seemed so carefree compared to her mom and I. It was amazing to think that we had ever been that young.

    "Alright, I''ve got to go log in for school." Beth had buttered bread in her mouth and a container of water in each hand. She managed to wave goodbye with a few free fingers.

    "I''m glad the ARC is working for you." It had been my first purchase with this new job. Ten thousand dollars up front for something the size of a twin bed. The price point could have been higher, but Trillium had given me an employee discount.

    "Oh it''s great, I don''t have to commute anymore! Mom kept making me take the bus." Beth said while chewing on her bread. She was walking backward towards the stairs while talking.

    "It''s good for you." Liz wiggled a finger at her daughter. I tried not to laugh as Liz sounded more and more like mom. Soon she would be nagging Beth to find a good husband who would be a doctor. Not that doctors actually performed operations anymore. Most operations were done by machines and computer programs that reacted faster with more precision.

    "Bleh to that. I''ll be eighteen soon, and I can''t be taking a bus." Beth said as she approached the stairs.

    "Alright. You go to class, let your Uncle and I talk." Liz waved her daughter off and Beth nodded happily. Soon she was down the stairs and in her room.

    "You know that the monitors will still be in place, right?" My sister whispered.

    "I know. I''m okay, Liz." I said. The doctors had told me all about the rules for moving out on my own. There was a long line of do''s and don''ts in order to meet insurance requirements. Part of me longed for the days where a person could vanish into the hills and never be heard from again.

    "No, you''re not." Liz responded slowly.

    "I just need time away from everything," I said. Every damn thing on the planet reminded me of her and it was killing me. Staring at the ceiling at night, going out to our old car, driving by the old house to talk to renters.

    "That''s avoiding, Grant. You''re avoiding." She had gone through all the courses with me. Liz often talked trash about other people, she got mad at the drop of a hat, but was nothing but supportive in the long run.

    "I''ve got to do something, though." I put a hand on the pile of images and pulled up the small houses image. This was where I would end up once everything cleared. Would my past keep haunting me there?

    "So what, you''re going to sit at this new house, and work yourself into oblivion and hope everything gets better?" Liz was back to her coffee. This time she was sipping at it.

    "I''ll still do my meetings, I''ll still make my sessions. I''ll show up at work. What else can I do but try to go on?"

    "When Beth''s," her lips curled distastefully "asshole father ran off, I cried for weeks, Grant. Weeks."

    "I know."

    "And I would have never survived it you hadn''t stood up for me to mom and dad." She took a big gulp of coffee then stared down. I spared her a quick glance and smile.

    "You were in pain, of course I would help," I said slowly. We had been seventeen then. Neither of us knew a damned thing about life at that age. Twenty had been so long ago too. I wasn''t engaged, didn''t have my degree, hadn''t even bought a house. There were so many differences.

    "And I had to face the reality that Beth wouldn''t have a good father figure in her life." Liz was quiet. Her eyes gazed off into the distance before she took another gulp of coffee. "Not that any of the others were worth much either."

    "You should have taken him for child support." I said. Beth''s father demonstrated absolute scum qualities by running off like that. We still had no clue where he had ended up.

    "No, no I wanted nothing to do with that man, and I still don''t. That''s not the point." Liz said. I could almost hear the coffee mug in her hands cracking under pressure. "If you are in trouble, then let us, let me know. We, I owe you, Grant."

    "We''re family." My sister said softly. It was the same line I had used when helping her with the bills after Beth''s father dropped out of the picture. The simple statement made me feel guilty all over again. For being so broken, for being able to keep it together. Other people moved on after a year. It hurt, but they somehow did it. Not me. In my heart, I still clung to the memory as if it was my only lifeline, which was almost spitting in the face of my sister''s kindness.

    "Damn right. And if you ever scare me again with these sorts of threats, I''ll kill you myself." Liz said. She walked off down the hall and left me alone at a kitchen table full of my future.

    Two months after that conversation everything got a final seal of approval. I was certified as tentatively stable. My insurance company was on board. My old house had been successfully sold to the renters who seemed eager to make things official. This new home was hours in the other direction but still close enough to Liz and Beth. That way if I had a bad night, home was just a car ride away.

    I had set up a few other purchases as a result of my job. Things that Trillium easily provided to all contractors. Liz would have her coffee as comfort, I would have a dance program. Part of me felt ashamed to use a dead woman as the basis for my dance partner. The other part of me wanted to hold onto any remaining image of her in order to keep myself together.

    The doctor said I had complicated bereavement issues. None of the clinical explanations helped. My psychiatrist had said that finding the will to continue was an exercise in distraction. Not avoidance, but finding other things to focus on and live for. We had discussed the move and he suggested that it might be a good way to progress with my life. Changing where I worked and lived was a thin line he warned. Overworking was my last major crime now that I had given up drinking again.

    This was my life now. If overworking kept me around for Liz and Beth, then it was a small price.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Eight - Grumpy Old NPC

    <cite></cite>Transitioning wasn¡¯t hard or sudden. I basically went to sleep and woke up as another person. A doctor could have told me to count backwards from ten with the same impact.

    After waking up there were a lot of changes. Everything ached immensely. The throbbing pain served to remind me how amazing this game was. These weren''t sharp jabs of simulated pain. This was everywhere, from everything. Breathing was hard too, but getting easier the more I looked around.

    I tried to lift one arm and weakness stole my strength. It took too much energy. Eyes drifted around and took note of a cane in one hand that I had gripped to near death. My fingers were locked in a curl that seemed permanent.

    The view was probably beautiful. I was on a bench sitting while staring at a sunset over the ocean. Things were fuzzy and no matter how many times my eyes blinked it didn¡¯t clear up. Birds cried out from above. Squinting wasn¡¯t bringing them into view.

    ¡°Ehhhhhh.¡± Noise escaped me as I shifted to one side. Switching which leg was crossed over the other hurt.

    People chattered nearby. Children played on a beach and built sand castles. Some adults did as well. It took some focus to keep my eyes from drifting asleep but I could see a difference between the figures. Players had visible icons above their heads, just simple green ones, a red bar that would fade in and out as I stared. Everyone else didn¡¯t have bars, they must have been computer generate characters. In other games they would be called non player character or NPC¡¯s for short. Parents dodged after little ones. Guards patrolled the beach in twos, I saw a vendor selling items out of his little cart.

    ¡°Hhhhhrrr.¡± The movement hurt again. I winced and tried to make out people.

    There were a few things that were extremely clear. Pop up boxes had formed nearby. Each one citing bits of information about the NPCs around me. When one middle age woman came nearby she waved. A box spun into view citing who she was, how long this body had known her, and other tiny details. I grunted and lifted the cane a little. She smiled and kept on walking. It gave me another moment to review my current situation.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Progress: 12%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A meter? I squinted and looked around trying to bring something up. Wait, there, a tiny percentage bar was hanging off to one side.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">A Last Gasp</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Unknown</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    You¡¯ve chosen to take up the mantle of James (Old Man) Carver. The duration of this act is four weeks. Many of Old Man Cavers skills and knowledge are still functional.

    Results will be measured based on performance as Old Man Carver. Review synchronization meter for progress. Special circumstances tied to this quest have imposed the following restriction.

    Auto pilot time will not impact completion.

    Failure: Complete failure is impossible

    Success: Possible information (Restricted)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Was that measured based on my single feeble cane wave? Or maybe sitting here half asleep? What exact kind of NPC was Old Man Carver? There were too many questions. I would just have to make it up as I went along to the best of my ability. Logging out would be counterproductive too unless my progress reached far enough. With vacation time there was to finish this quest up and maybe settle my thoughts before going back to work.

    That fuzzy sunset was impressive. I sat there and watched while time passed in game. Well, it was more like a background as I dug through informational pop ups. Plus, with focus I could see what sort of system windows other players were getting. The man on the beach building a sand castle. Small bonuses to [Coordination] would appear in front of him with city reputation boosts. Every so often there would be another trickle to [Focus].

    Neat.

    Once I was really playing the game, as myself, I would know all sorts of tricks. Was that intentional or just a side effect of being an NPC? All this assumed that I wouldn¡¯t try to rip out my ARC¡¯s hard drive upon this big reveal.

    Another player was marching around with the guards, doing patrols. Her strategy trait was going on along with endurance. There were other notifications that didn¡¯t display. They were all grayed out, probably due to being traits or skills that I hadn¡¯t unlocked. This whole system, this game, was like nothing I played before and so strange. At least these results made sense. Gaining points for doing work, points gained went together with what actions were performed. Two hours passed in game as I watched people go about their actions.

    ¡°Excuse me, sir?¡± A female voice came from nearby. I groaned and turned but couldn¡¯t quiet swivel my head enough to see.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I repeated myself three times before the word made it out.

    ¡°Can you help me? The guards over there said I needed to talk to you.¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to find a place to learn the cooking skill.¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡± I said even louder. Why would I know anything about where to find a skill? How much knowledge would a game NPC have of these kinds of things? Two pop up boxes flipped up as I chewed the inside of my cheek.

    System Help!

    Old Man Carver has been many things in his life, but in his twilight years he became a guide to new Travelers. In his pocket there are maps that provide information from locations around [Haven Valley].

    Most who visit him are sent on a task prior to being given a map. This task varies based on Old Man Carver''s whims.

    In order to succeed while standing in for Old Man Carver, you must fulfill his duties.

    Warning!

    Your recent actions have demonstrated confusion. Old Man Carver was not a confused sort of person. In order to maintain an effective facade you will need to perform better.

    Well crud. I had lost points already.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Progress: 10%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Cooking. What good is cooking to you?¡± I had to stall and think of a task. Who cooked in today¡¯s world? Oh, besides my mother on holidays. Wait. Right. Video game world. Cooking was probably fairly common by necessity.

    ¡°Mister Carver sir, I need cooking before I go out of the city.¡± She was so soft spoken and timid sounding. Not at all like the Voices I delt with before. They were each a heavy personality.

    ¡°Fine. What¡¯s in it for me?¡± I came up blank on the questing part. A system notification cropped up again in my face telling me of the latest failure to perform.

    System Help!

    Old Man Carver is grumpy and looks constantly sour, but his words often cut straight to the point. He never asked others what they could do for him and would always assign them a task.

    ¡°Bah. Never mind, you probably don¡¯t know how to do anything useful. You visitors are all the same.¡± My hasty attempt at back peddling knocked my progress down another percentage point making me wince. Wincing also hurt.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Progress: 9%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Go clean up the beach for me. Pick up the litter your buddies left behind. Maybe then I¡¯ll get you a map to your precious cooking instructor.¡±

    That little decision prompted another window refunding one of my failed points. System notifications were going off like crazy as the game tried to adapt me to this new role. I wondered how they had even programmed something for a player preventing to be an NPC.

    No. I had to think of little tasks for players who decided to bother me. This area was one of the starting cities. Slowly, painfully, while trying not to groan and bellyache from the pain, I reached inside the robe. I was wearing and dug out a rolled up parchment. Great. I really did have a map, and from the brief feeling of sliding my hand under this brown tired of robe, there wasn¡¯t much between me and a breeze.

    Old Man Carver didn¡¯t like putting on much in the way of clothing, among all of his other features. With a lot of strength and determination I pushed up from the bench and wobbled a bit, trying to get the ground under me.

    ¡°Ooooh.¡± Groan prevention was impossible.

    I managed to lift an arm to about chest level and unrolled the map. It flopped downward and my eyes dropped with it. These words were far easier to see. Continue Online had dubbed Old Man Carver as nearsighted. There were dots all over the map, even some weird half image ones. Notes were scribbled about. Focusing on specific dots revealed a myriad of information. There were tasks on here, mysteries of the area to send players out to, common items that needed to be resolved.

    Goodness, this thing was a wealth of information for new players.

    ¡°Where¡¯s cooking?¡± One of the dots lit up brighter than the others. Go NPC powers!

    ¡°Ah ha.¡± A name, a face, almost a miniature dossier came into being. Not only was the game showing me where cooking was, it showed me details about who was involved.

    Turned out the person in question, a Chef working at one of the three Inns in town, preferred those who were very clean and well kept. He hated disorder and often fired people who couldn¡¯t keep a kitchen polished. The man also worked nights for hours prepping for the following day.

    ¡°Hah.¡±

    The girl who had spoke to me earlier was still out there cleaning things up. She seemed to be looking at a progress bar, similar to the one that I had. Hers, at least from this angle, looked to be tallying up garbage collected. This character''s eyesight officially reached terrible. The Voices hadn''t completely crippled me though. The beach and garbage were fuzzy but the game windows were amazingly clear. I felt a little dirty for peeping on her system text like this.

    Sunset would be ending soon. The long fading brightness was losing to nighttime. A chill blew in across sand and sea then crawled inside my skin down to the bone. There was a pop up telling me that Old Man Carver didn¡¯t like to stay out too far after sundown.

    I gained another percentage point for turning to watch the dying light. Maybe William Carver had loved to watch sunsets. Maybe he just liked the ocean. Mysteries abounded for my temporary acting assignment. I stood there, holding myself up against the wind. My job would only be completed if the girl, young lady, finished her beach combing. Hopefully before I started taking a hit to my own progress bar.

    She was scrambling too, looking upset and tired as time went onward. At about halfway she stopped to pull some sort of bread and shoved it into her mouth. Moments after wards a revitalized player stood up and kept picking at the ground.

    Was there a hunger bar?

    Probably. This game was intended to be realistic and she asked for a cooking skill. I squinted eyes and tried to focus on my statistics. There was more information available now than there had been in the trial room before.

    There, that had to be a hunger bar. I pointed one gnarled finger out and slowly drug the bar to one side. I learned, from watching other players do their thing, that it was possible to lock status bars into view. This way it was always present instead of only coming up when something critical was happening.

    A game manual sort of response had come up talking all about interface methods but there seemed to be a lot that was left uncovered. Most things only popped in once I experienced it for myself. Losing health to an evil giant fantasy chicken thing had rather clearly shown me what a health bar looked like.

    I sat on the bench again, cane still in my hands, fingers curled in their death lock. To my side sat the map.

    ¡°Mister Carver.¡±

    I managed to work the kink out of my neck enough to turn and look. This was a city guard, an NPC judging by all the information that came up.

    ¡°Dayl¡±

    ¡°Yes sir. I¡¯m glad you remember me sir. Father says sometimes you forget sir.¡± Dayl had to be in his younger years. There was no age on his information window. He wore armor and had a helmet that covered most of his face. The body under it was clearly trained and had worked out.

    Apparently Old Man Carver drifted off sometimes. A constant stream of information was pelting me. Maybe it was a case of having too much knowledge in your head and getting lost trying to sift through an ocean.

    I read the messages regarding this new person. Turned out Dayl would escort me home or sometimes wake me up if I passed out on the bench. No, if Old Man Carver had fallen asleep. Not me. A yawn escaped and both eyelids sank for a moment.

    ¡°Are you ready to go sir?¡± Dayl asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m watching this one.¡± I tilted the cane. The action gained me another point of progress, bringing me up to thirteen percent.

    ¡°Another Traveler sir?¡±

    ¡°Another.¡± My head nodded.

    ¡°They¡¯ve slowed down a lot in the last few months.¡±

    ¡°Happens. Did you think they were endless?¡± I had almost said ¡®we¡¯ when responding. There were only so many people on earth, and of those not everyone would be interested in a game.

    ¡°Those big cities got it worst. Father says we should be thankful for all the work they¡¯ve done.¡±

    ¡°You disagree?¡± I let another window drift away, this one containing information about Dayl¡¯s father. Being city guardsmen was a family tradition.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know sir. Things are changing. Six years ago there were no travelers. Now they¡¯ve started to appear of the blue in our city.¡±

    ¡°Times always change.¡± Hopefully they did anyway. A game with a stagnate world would be mind numbingly boring.

    ¡°Used to be they might only appear at the bigger cities though. Father says that stopped once the Kingdoms started to recruit them. Travelers only appear in neutral areas.¡±

    ¡°Mh. Makes sense.¡± Games had capital cities, places where trade, meetings, or whatever would be handled. Often time¡¯s entire quest chains start from there as well.

    It would be interesting to see exactly how big these major cities might get. Especially since there weren¡¯t just NPCs wandering all day and night. They had homes and, judging by the last few hours spent on the beach, they lived their entire lives here in a simulated world.

    ¡°Father says I just worry too much. But sir, there¡¯s been a shift towards violence since they started arriving. And more of them are being elevated to important roles.¡±

    ¡°So let the travelers chose what they do, like everyone else does.¡±

    ¡°But travelers are frightening. That girl over there, she looks stronger already, sir, and she¡¯s just been picking up trash.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s about done.¡± Her progress bar was reaching completion. Which was good, every time I talked to Dayl my own progress for this NPC quest went up and down in bits.

    ¡°Do you think there will be war? Father says there won¡¯t be one, but I can¡¯t help but shake the feeling.¡± Dayl asked.

    ¡°Oh yes.¡± I nodded, and watched my own progress bar jump up five percent in one go. ¡°There will always be a war.¡±

    There I sat, an old man chewing on his lip, while watching a young girl about my niece''s age clean up the beach. Most NPCs were gone by now. Those who lingered were escorting carts and headed various directions. While a guard who was entirely too young babysat me.

    How odd this whole situation was.

    The girl finally finished her task as I slowly tapped my foot in time to music in my head. I recalled a song that had played weeks ago. That four minute dance had taken me hours to learn. Maybe Old Man Carver had a bit of dance in him somewhere.

    ¡°I¡¯m done Mister Carver, sir.¡± This player''s tone was so soft spoken that I almost missed her. At some point my eyes had drifted out to the sea, watching blurry swells fade closer to shore.

    ¡°Here. A map.¡±

    She carefully took the scroll from where it sat. I didn¡¯t have the energy to lift my arm and actually hand it over.

    ¡°Mister Carver, sir. Where¡¯s someone who can teach me cooking?¡±

    ¡°Mh. Turn it this way.¡± I tried to be decisive and issue orders just like William Carver would have. Besides, there was a whole mess of dots on there for different locations. Oddly, her map was completely empty. I touched the spot where the Inn Chef¡¯s information displayed for me. A box faded into view facing this new player.

    ¡°Careful. He works nights, and only helps those who know how to keep a clean workplace.¡± She had done her job. Hopefully now my Carver points would allow me to do a bit more guidance.

    ¡°Maybe you should brush up a little before you drop by. Maybe pick up litter between here and there.¡± I was willing to bet there was a skill or trait called [Tidy] that would pop into being if she worked hard enough.

    She nodded slowly while staring at the map.

    ¡°Dayl.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir?¡±

    ¡°She needs a bag, nothing fancy, just something to pick up trash with.¡±

    ¡°Miss, you can take one of the bags you used earlier. They¡¯re free to anyone willing to help keep our city clean.¡± The younger guard looked so serious then, I¡¯ll bet he had to work hard on avoiding the ¡®my dad says¡¯ line.

    ¡°There you go.¡±

    She looked happy and a bit confused.

    ¡°Now, I need to get home.¡± I gained two points for showing her where to go and speaking as I did, but lost one of them just for staying out too long after sundown.

    Standing hurt like hell and I fell again.

    ¡°Let me help Mister Carver Sir.¡± She dove for an arm and nearly wrenched it out of the socket. I grumbled but didn¡¯t argue. The pain wasn¡¯t mild. Moments later I was up and vaguely stable.

    ¡°I¡¯m getting too old.¡± I muttered, half in jest. That lost me another point along with more information about Old Man Carver''s dislike for admitting his age in front of people. I sighed and started shuffling off, leaving the girl and guard behind.

    Home was northward, out on a small hill that would take too long to reach. My progress points danced as my slow pace home hurt things. Refusal to ask for help raised them back up. What a stubborn old man. Dayl was walking behind me a ways. His heavy metal footsteps stood out in the near silence of early night.

    I made it to William Carver''s house, I think. There were no other homes anywhere close. Guess Old Man Carver had retired in a small cottage on the edge of town. Shrubs and a wooden fence surrounded the property. A second fence ran along the back and went for miles in either direction. Behind the house was a field that stretched into sheer fuzziness. There were creatures that looked similar to horses in the distance.

    I grunted and reached around inside my robe for a key to the door. Inside his house was almost as tiny as mine. There were another two small rooms filled with books. One was pulled down at random and shoved into a pocket for tomorrow¡¯s bench sitting. Following that I shuffled my old tired NPC body to bed. Eyelids closed almost instantly leaving me alone in silent darkness.

    Nighttime would last at least two hours. Long enough for me to log out of the ARC and take care of myself. Maybe catch a quick nap. I resolved the real life necessities by sending a memo to my boss. The contents said I would be ready for work in a week. Alarms were set and sleep claimed me. Old Man Carver''s exhaustion was contagious.

    An eye blink later and the alarm slammed on. I felt tired, having only sustained an hour of sleep, but it was better than nothing. I would have to ask Beth how to handle long term assignments in the game. There had to be some method for dealing with it aside from autopilot.

    I logged into Continue. This time when I stepped through the doorway there was no room for tests and trials. James and the [Messenger''s Pet] were absent. The game finished loading with me abruptly becoming an old man shakily trying to lift a crude coffee mug to his mouth for a sip. I fumbled a few drops before finishing up the motion.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Progress: 14%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Next time I should check the player status like Beth had done. That method would allow me to see what I was leaping into and maybe I could avoid dripping scalding hot water around. Strangely the poor treatment cost me a few health points but didn¡¯t change my progress bar.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Following additional prompts I managed to stumble around the house. Apparently I was running late while trying to figure everything out. My tardiness was made clear by a tiny box which displayed hits to my completion percentage with warning notices.

    I looted a few more map scrolls and an apple. They were put into pockets to go with the key and book Old Man Carver''s robes already held. Huffing I turned and closed the door, making sure everything was locked up. The cane helped minimize Old Man Carver''s unstable footsteps.

    Once shuffling down the path I saw other townsfolk. Most of them waved. I nodded back frequently and felt like a complete impostor. These people knew William Carver the NPC, not Grant the player posing as Carver the non-player. At least I got a few more points for my vague replies to the people. Old Man Carver didn''t seem big on social pleasantries.

    Judging by morning traffic, stalls being set up, and bustle, this city contained two thousand people. We were sprawled out over a few miles. There was an entire marina for boating but it stopped short of being a trade port with giant ships coming in.

    The ocean smell was masked by bakery goods and meats. I carefully looked at the scroll trying to map out where I was, verses all the little dots of information around me. There was an alley way near here that was dangerous at night. Notes on the map told me that this was an event location.

    Now that was unfair. A guide NPC had access to this sort of information? I could just lead players into an alley at night and see if the survived the attack? For what? Turned out result possibilities were noted as well. Rewards were all over. One example was contacts with a Thieves guild, if you subdued but didn¡¯t kill, or managed to steal from the attackers and get away. Another route pointed towards the guards and city, if you helped other civilians who might end up involved.

    I mean really, who would even think of this stuff? Everything about it seemed designed to lead a player around based on their gut reactions.

    The bakery near me provided a chance for new players to earn coin for work. They often hired Travelers for all roles. Sweeping, mixing, folding dough, or running the cash register.

    I shook my head and tried not to read too much into it. Basically there were options all over the town. No two players would take the exact same path, show the same interests, or respond to the events in the same manor. Each one would have different rewards and a nearly unique experience. Not every player would talk to a guide, like the NPC I was pretending to be. Some had foreknowledge from friends and family. Some were savvy enough to find buildings that might teach what they wanted.

    There were two buildings on the map loosely labeled training hall. From the information I read while walking, these locations seemed a lot like gyms for weapon trainers. I had to see what those were like. Hopefully there would be no drill sergeants spitting words at my face.

    From a tree overhead there was a rush of noises. Rustling preceded a solid whack as something collided with the trunk, then what had to be a chipmunk chattering. Giant acorn like objects fell from the tree as the squabbling noises kept going.

    I stopped and watched. The beach was in sight but this was interesting enough to suffer a hit to my progress bar. Soon other creatures joined in. My poor eyesight couldn¡¯t make out if they had been there the whole time, or leapt from adjourning trees. They were clearly fighting something. That something was hissing back.

    A smile crept across my crinkling face. I kept watching for the inevitable outcome. After thirty more seconds of squabbling, my little trouble making buddy fell from the branches above.

    He was pelted by a good fifteen more acorn objects. In his teeth he had managed to wrestle one of the other creatures down. It looked like a sleeker chipmunk with a strange set of emerald jewels just above either eye.

    ¡°Identification.¡± I whispered. It wouldn¡¯t do to have any of the other NPCs hear me using a player skill.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Race: </td>

    <td colspan="3">[Coo-Coo Rill]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Status: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Deceased</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Coo-Coo Rills are communal animals. They often steal bright shiny objects for their nests. More than one person has lost jewelery or coins to a colony¡¯s hoard of treasures.

    Warning!

    Attacking one nest for treasure will often result in fighting a colony of [Coo-Coo Rill]s.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Really?¡±

    The [Messenger''s Pet] huffed and shook his head back and forth.

    ¡°You weren¡¯t trying to steal their treasures were you?¡±

    He let out an angry hiss at the branches above. More trees rustled from overhead and another round of acorns towards both me and the miniature dragon.

    ¡°Bah.¡±

    I shook my cane at the tree and kept walking on towards my bench. There was a bright shiny arrow bobbing above the ground as a guide. ¡®Park your old butt here!¡¯ it seemed to say.

    Sitting hurt as much as walking.

    Old age was no picnic. I spent the first thirty minutes of William Carver''s bench warming time trying to play fetch with the miniature dragon. I still had no idea if the little fellow had a name or not. The carcass from a dead Coo-Coo Rill had been deposited in front of my bench.

    Citizens of this world just walked around it with a giggle or frown. One woman clearly found the situation borderline hysterical. Probably my feeble tossing of nuts to the little dragon had something to do with it. A shimmering blue headband was wrapped around her hair. One stray chunk was tucked behind an ear as she sat down. The woman was clearly important. Old Man Carver didn¡¯t have a wall of information about her stored away but there was one major message box.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Secondary Goal:

    Old Man Carver has been trying to learn about this woman for years, but has come up empty. Learning more about her past will greatly increase your progress as Old Man Carver. This will help settle his spirit during passing.

    Reward:

    Significant Progress towards your completion [dependent upon information found]

    Note:

    Old Man Carver is typically direct, and has tried many tact''s to get information in the past. The woman [Mylia Jacobs] finds this amusing and is deliberately obtuse.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Progress: 21%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Carver was stalking this girl? Clearly it wasn¡¯t offensive since she just sat down next to me with half a smile. Everything hurt so much when moving so I doubt Carver was trying to peep into showers.

    ¡°Morning Mylia.¡± I started polite and watched the meter for possible reactions.

    ¡°Mister Carver. How are you this fine day?¡±

    ¡°Enjoying the view.¡± I even managed not to look anywhere near her when saying it. Otherwise it would be god kind of creepy.

    ¡°And your little friend?¡±

    ¡°He followed me.¡± She was gesturing towards the tiny dragon who was now playing with a young boy. The [Messenger''s Pet] was hopping around eagerly.

    ¡°What¡¯s his name?¡±

    ¡°No idea. I¡¯ll ask him.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Is he a tiny dragon?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly. A Messenger''s Pet.¡± I was trying to sound impressive by knowing the dragon¡¯s species which was clearly a bad idea. My progress bar dropped down two percent from that one. Old Man Carver didn¡¯t give away much information if he could help it.

    ¡°Oh.¡± She looked worried and frowned for a moment. ¡°Aren¡¯t those bad?¡±

    ¡°Mh. What¡¯s he going to do to me?¡± I felt little fear from the tiny dragon, but he did have teeth and breathed fire. With the pain feedback it would suck.

    Not neat at all. Anti-neat. Pain-tastic.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but it¡¯d be a shame if something did happen.¡±

    ¡°Mylia, if I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d think you¡¯d miss this old man.¡± I tested out the third person speech, tried not using titles like miss or ma¡¯am. Instead, the progress bar went up a little.

    ¡°Not me Mister Carver. The kids though, they might miss your stories.¡±

    ¡°Everyone loves a good story.¡± There were two rooms full of books to prove that point.

    ¡°I imagine they love the story teller too.¡±

    ¡°Hah.¡± Old Man Carver didn¡¯t seem very lovable. Maybe he was hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Like a very weird cookie. Probably raisin filled.

    ¡°Come on Phil, we¡¯re running behind.¡±

    The younger boy looked up and nodded. His eyes were worn. Not from abuse but from malnutrition. Mylia Jacobs wasn¡¯t much better. Both of them were probably underfed. It wasn¡¯t in her clothes or his but there was a familiar draw to the face.

    ¡°Mh. Goodbye Mylia.¡± It was almost absent minded as I studied them walking off. Mylia wasn¡¯t excessively attractive. The only vaguely cute aspect was an azure band wrapped atop her head.

    The small dragon nipped at my heel looking for attention. Now it was near noon and the bar set aside for hunger was dwindling. I absently pulled out my apple and ate a few bites while thinking of additional tasks.

    ¡°Mh.¡± Chewing hurt like everything else.

    No new players had started today that needed my attention. Sitting on the bench I watched one bewildered person start and be cornered by a friend almost immediately. Clearly they were starting to play with someone from real life. The more senior player gave me a wave and hauled their friend onward.

    I grunted and pulled out the book hidden in my robe. Reading to pass time would be helpful. [Inspection] revealed a surprise. Maybe that¡¯s why this book had been easiest to grab.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Item:Carver''s Journal, (Vol 1)

    Description:William (Old Man) Carver, has kept a log of highlights from this world. It contains musings and general observations. He¡¯s collectively titled these works ¡®Notes from a Stranger in a Strange Land¡¯. This reference is said to be from Old Man Carver''s childhood.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Mh.¡±

    I started reading through the book. Somewhere during these boring actions the [Messenger''s Pet] had decided to take a nap in a spot of sun nearby. His location would probably be safe from both the idle footsteps of people and the attacks of angry Coo-Coo Rills.

    <blockquote><cite> Wrote: </cite>Three weeks in this city and I¡¯ve noticed a lot of issues. I¡¯d finally ditched those other idiots and found my own pace. Michelle was too content to stay in our hometown and work a forge. Yates insisted on learning magic, even though it was too weird, and I just wanted to hit things with a sword.

    Guess maybe I¡¯m an idiot too. But here, in this world, you can be anything, why would I settle for being so mundane? I have a goal, and that goal is to kill a dragon.</blockquote>

    I snorted in laughter which caused the tiny dragon to perk his ears for a moment. At least Carver had aimed high. Had he succeeded? There was about four weeks of bench warming to endure so I avoided reading spoilers if at all possible. According to the journal and my own personal in game display this was from about twenty five years ago.

    A few more pages in and I could see Old Man Carver''s general distaste for other people. He regarded their choices and their methods as dull and uninteresting. Not to say he didn¡¯t occasionally pair up with people. The first misadventure he had involved a female elf from the general description. They tried to stop giant wasps from chewing up a great tree of some sort.

    He outlined the qualities of said female elf and went into excessive detail about her exuberance for all new things. The entry ended with a parting of ways. The tree was also saved but from how everything was written saving nature had been a secondary mission. I rolled my eyes. Old Man Carver sounded like a young teen in this one, not that there was an age listed anywhere.

    Glancing around revealed that all was fairly peaceful. Guards patrolled and townsfolk visited the beach. It looked cleaner since that new player had spent hours picking up trash. Noon was growing closer and things were warming up. Old Man Carver''s robe was not very comfortable in this sun.

    I looked around for a shady perch. There was another similar bench with an awning attached. Moving there earned me another percent on my progress bar and turned down the heat.

    <blockquote><cite> Wrote: </cite>After my very grateful parting with the elf, I set my compass south. There was a desert there that boasted giant lizards. I assume they¡¯ll be good practice for fighting a Dragon. Before that, the sword I picked up in my hometown is also due for a repair. Maybe I¡¯ll stop by home and see if Michelle can actually craft something as decent as he thinks.

    He keeps bragging about his skills. Idiot. I¡¯m glad he¡¯s not out here with me; I¡¯d probably have to rescue him from every tiny monster that attacks. That guy is so weak a feather would beat him up.

    I hope he never reads this journal. Free gear is nothing to sneeze at. Ugh. He¡¯ll probably demand that I give him all the resources I¡¯ve gathered out here. He bled me dry over a pair of greaves, I can¡¯t imagine how much worse a decent sword will be.</blockquote>

    ¡°Hey. Old Man Carver.¡± There was a voice out of the blue disturbing review of my, Carver''s, past. Goodness this was confusing.

    ¡°What.¡± The heat, being interrupted, and a faint promise of pain if I moved too suddenly, all combined together to make me irritated. My curt response was worth another percentage. I bet yelling from my lawn at the town''s children would send my progress through the roof.

    ¡°I need a quest from you. Then give me a map.¡± The other figure was a brown haired boy in his early twenties. Thank goodness this game had an age requirement or I would be flooded with children demanding things.

    He still had that semi lean form that young adults wear so well before everything goes south later in life. I stared at him, and uttered the first mildly Carver thing to come to mind.

    ¡°You¡¯re a rude brat aren¡¯t you.¡±

    Score another percentage for me.

    ¡°Listen old man, I can¡¯t waste time here. Give me a quest, and I¡¯ll be out of your hair and on my way.¡±

    ¡°You think it¡¯s that easy? I give you a quest, and you get a reward?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it? What kind of game is this?¡± The younger man¡¯s words made me smile. ''What kind of game'' seemed to be a common question.

    ¡°Bah. This isn¡¯t a game, this is deadly serious. You want something,¡± I stood up to the best of Old Man Carver''s ability. That was a slow painful process full of barely suppressed grunts. ¡°You earn it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a map. I need that, and I need directions to the weapons hall.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Swinging a sword sounds like the move of a future Champion.¡± My sarcastic barb cost me a few points. Oh. That was because William Carver had been a sword swinger. I had just insulted my own past.

    ¡°No, daggers, I¡¯m going to be an Assassin.¡±

    I rolled my eyes. What kind of player just announces himself to an NPC like that? Maybe a swift punch in the face would allow me to claim a Monk. Yeah. We were four sentences into our interaction and I had labeled him as an idiot. Old Man Carver was really rubbing off on me. Four weeks of this and I would have trouble unwinding back to my happy spot. At least he wasn¡¯t a drunk according to the first few years of his life.

    Behind us there was someone walking animals along the path. Inspiration grabbed me.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll give you a task worthy of your future occupation.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    ¡°Go moo at that,¡± I used [Identification] on the creature. It looked like a cow and the description wasn¡¯t too far off. ¡°bovine over there. Do it until I¡¯m satisfied and you¡¯ll get your map.¡±

    Part of me felt euphoric when a pop up box appeared in front of the new player. Sure enough my actions had generated another quest. Just like the girl who cleaned the beach up. She had been way more polite.

    ¡°A cow. Are you serious?¡± The new player thought it was a cow too.

    Spots, a few extra horns, slightly odd hind legs, still a cow. The new player didn¡¯t have an [Identification] skill like me. According to the game text the creature was called something else. I ignored the in game race and just filed it away as [Future Beef Patty].

    ¡°Dead serious. Show me you have the determination to follow through, and I¡¯ll even throw in a contact for your Assassin class.¡± I deadpanned the response and lost another percentage point.

    ¡°Fine.¡±

    I would never be satisfied with his attempt at mooing to the cow.

    ¡°Carver, are you really going to let that child become an assassin?¡± There was a deep male voice that had crept up behind me. I tried not to act disturbed.

    Turning slightly revealed a guard. His armor was far more outstanding than the other guards were. They looked very cookie cutter. The man standing next to me was clearly unique. Embellishments adorned shoulders and similar etchings were everything down to the heavy boots.

    I briefly read of the descriptions popping up on my display while chewing at a lip. The new player had run off down the road chasing [Future Beef Patty].

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Name: [Future Beef Patty]

    Details:This is the description given to a passing bovine. The name is entirely in William (Old Man) Carver''s imagination.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Wyl.¡± I uttered the same type of greeting I used with Mylia. Sure enough, my flat utterance of a name earned me a point.

    ¡°Carver.¡± Further reading identified this man as a Guard Captain. Surprisingly he was fairly high ranked for this town. My [Identification] display had a window with a funny shield and sword combination. The symbol outlined with a wreath and two stars. It was the same sort of nonsense I had seen on military general uniforms.

    ¡°Doubt he has the stomach to follow through. Too much pride.¡± That player didn¡¯t seem like the type able to handle my demeaning task.

    ¡°We can hope.¡±

    ¡°Doubt he follows orders either. Not like your boy Dayl.¡± I said the name and felt conflicted about how many names had a ''y'' in them. Maybe it was a regional thing.

    ¡°My son''s a good man.¡±

    His son constantly said ¡®My Father says¡¯. Calling him a good man seemed misleading. Not my family though. Old Man Carver might be blunt but he seemed secretive enough to not speak these conclusions out loud.

    ¡°Mh. He¡¯s got a long ways to go.¡± I was absently staring after the player who ran off into the distance. He seemed to be waving his hands in panic, trying to get the man escorting [Future Beef Patty] to slow down.

    ¡°Don¡¯t I know it.¡± Wyl sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. His fingers clanked as they worked between armor chunks to get to irritated skin.

    ¡°Why the sudden visit Wyl?¡± I knew from the various system messages that the guard captain rarely came down to the beach. Not even for Old Man Carver¡¯s wise council.

    ¡°One of the Priestess of Selena has requested your presence.¡± Who-lena? What? Judging by the name this was one of the Voices. No one else would have temples in this world.

    ¡°Now?¡±

    ¡°Now.¡± Wyl confirmed.

    ¡°What about our future sword for hire there?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave a guard for him with a few more tasks. Something to hopefully deter that stupid Assassin idea.¡±

    ¡°Good luck. Boy seems addle brained.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. If that¡¯s truly what he wants to do, we can¡¯t stop him. Travelers are hard to control.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t I know it.¡±

    ¡°That you would. It takes a rare man to suffer their bewildered demands. I don¡¯t know where they get half the fool notions they have.¡±

    I snorted. To me, a player posing as an NPC, it was extremely clear where most of their ¡®fool notions¡¯ came from. Other games and a world of informational boxes had served to brainwash this latest generation.

    ¡°Come on Carver. I¡¯ll walk you up to the Temple.¡± Wyl said.

    I grumbled. This would surely be another bout of aches and pains. Actually voicing my complaints out loud wouldn¡¯t be a very character appropriate thing to do. That silly little bar reinforcing my actions was the only thing standing between me and answers about my fianc¨¦e.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Nine - Priestess Peach

    <cite></cite>I liked these trees. Two major types littered the city. Tall ones that spiraled up high were typically standing clustered together near grassy areas. Everywhere else, especially over pathways, were trees with large branching canopies. They stretched across twenty and thirty foot gulfs towards each other. Overhead they twined together creating a spotty patchwork of leaves.

    ¡°How¡¯s retirement been treating you Carver?¡± Wyl¡¯s questioning tone implied a long term relationship. How did a computer program account for all these possible interactions between NPCs?

    ¡°It¡¯s peaceful.¡± I said without inflection. My score went neither up nor down.

    He looked at the item in my hands. Carver¡¯s Journal was still tucked under an arm and the cane death gripped. Behind us the [Messenger''s Pet] tried to figure out ways into [Coo-Coo Rill] nests. Silly creature. I had no idea why it bothered following me so much.

    ¡°Can¡¯t imagine it myself. I have a feeling I¡¯ll be doing this until I die.¡±

    ¡°Mh. Probably.¡± NPCs were likely to do the same role their entire lives. Depending on how this whole situation was set up. How would this game act in five or ten years? Would they get older?

    I should just focus on playing and not worry about the future. There were four weeks of strangeness to get through first. Time warping ratios were kind of nice in terms of vacation.

    ¡°Planning any new adventures?¡±

    ¡°Just one more.¡± Words came out of my mouth unbidden. What the heck? I hadn¡¯t meant to say that at all. My impulse control was either crap or the computer had talked for me.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got plenty left in you Carver.¡±

    Was this tied to the Old Man Caver quest? Queue a seemingly random pop up box. Now I was assigned another secondary goal on top of the first one.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Secondary Goal:

    Old Man Carver has expressed his desire to take one last adventure before passing. Find something worthy of Carver¡¯s legacy before the end of four weeks. Doing one last adventure will greatly increase your progress as Old Man Carver. This will help settle his spirit during passing.

    Reward:

    Significant Progress towards your completion (dependent upon information found)

    Note:

    This adventure must be recognized by others as worthy of Carver.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Great. I had to figure out something about a girl who liked to mess with me and pretend to be obtuse. While sitting on a bench most of the day. While trying to find one last adventure. On top of that was ignoring real life, learning vague game rules, and not building my own character.

    At least Old Man Carvers little stories amused me.

    The new player and Guard Captain had interrupted me during Carver¡¯s recounting of a fight with a strange horse thing. He said it would shift colors to blend in with a background, all to sneak up and kick him with its hind legs. I was waiting to see how it ended.

    ¡°What does the Priestess want?¡±

    ¡°No idea. But I figured I''d best come fetch you instead before of those fresh faced Travelers do. You get enough of them already.¡± Wyl smiled a lot.

    ¡°Mh.¡± Non-committal grunts were the way to respond.

    ¡°Why did you volunteer for guide anyway?¡± Some of the information I knew after reading Old Man Carvers dossier and other pop ups. Carver had started being a guide as soon as Travelers started showing up. He, I, had also settled in this town right around the same time.

    ¡°Something to do.¡± That lost me points.

    ¡°You killed a dragon by yourself, and call guiding new Travelers something to do?¡±

    Stupid spoilers! He ruined the end of Carvers Journals for me and left me confused in the process. I couldn¡¯t respond with a good reason because I barely knew Carver. It was impossible to believe that a game touted for its realism had dwindled down each NPC to a few basic personality traits. From my progress bar''s reaction, Carver was very realistic and not just a simple cardboard cutout.

    That made me lose step for a moment, literally. I stumbled over nothing and nearly fell flat on my face. Wyl¡¯s quick actions kept me somewhat upright but my shoulder paid the price instead. A fresh wave of pain piled on top of the general hell Carver¡¯s every movement was. Turned out there was no pain setting to turn down this whole mess.

    ¡°Gah.¡± I had to stop. Wyl got me to a bench and I tried to control my near collapse. How the heck would Carver go on an adventure like this? I should just fail that onus and hope everything else was good enough.

    ¡°Rest a few. I¡¯ll go let the Priestesses know of our delay.¡±

    I just nodded hastily and tried to control my heart rate and breathing. There was a clench in my chest that wouldn¡¯t let go. Wyl walked away and left me clutching my chest. A simulated heart attack was wracking my virtual body. That¡¯s what this must be. This was a dimmed down version of Carver¡¯s heart seizing up.

    It hurt.

    Goodness it hurt.

    Why wouldn¡¯t this end?

    After a few minutes the pain passed and all the air in the world felt thin. My arm shook, legs quivered. What had brought this on? Had the original Carver died from this? Even one fifth of the feedback had disabled all coherent thought.

    ¡°I¡¯m getting old.¡± Admitting weakness normally went again the persona being projected but I lost no points from my admission.

    Focusing on something other than pain would keep me going. Move forward, never back. I used the time to weigh my understandings of Carver in case Wyl asked me for motivation again. To help get into the mind of the man I posed as, I cracked open the Journal and resumed reading.

    Old Man Carvers eyes moved slower than I liked. Reading the letters felt hard to focus on. Some of them mixed up and required rereading. After too much concentration I found out that Carver had managed to tame the horse and took him on the next adventure.

    Some of the wording threw me off though. The way he spoke about things didn¡¯t feel like a denizen from this world. There were no citations about his childhood. The date stamps were from years ago, but judging by Carvers age they basically started at about fifty.

    I checked the cover again, this was Volume one. Slowly my eyes retracted the latest strange passage.

    <blockquote><cite> Wrote: </cite>Michelle had a great technique from his training. I had to wait two days for him to return to the shop so I could see it in action. The way he swung the hammer down almost made me switch focus. Too bad time was short, the doctors have only cleared me for another year or two tops. I''m stubborn enough to live beyond that, I don''t care what they say.  Every moment counts. Old age is horseshit. All this power and we can¡¯t stop a bum ticker.</blockquote>

    That was out of place. A bum ticker? Was this just a weird translation issue?

    ¡°Are you ready to go Carver?¡± Wyl had returned.

    Slow sighing preceded me putting the book away. Afterwards I nodded and Wyl was kind enough to not ask any questions. He could see my struggling.

    Halfway up the hill the guard captain asked again. Why did I, or Carver, act as a guide to new players? There was no clear cut answer. For several slow steps I pondered life¡¯s biggest question. What would Carver do? I could tattoo that on my arm, or maybe a bracelet, WWCD. Reminder bracelets would be a new fad for all the residents of our fine city of [Haven Valley].

    It had been around twenty four hours in game. Things didn¡¯t even feel high paced. Sitting on a bench for hours and throwing acorns at a tiny dragon was a pleasant way to pass the time. Reading some misadventures was fun too. None of those hurt my progress. I could safely say that Carver didn¡¯t have problems idling time away. Not that his biography talked about the boring parts.

    But why did he go to the beach day after day to wait for new players? Oh. There was an easy out here.

    ¡°You know I don¡¯t just give away answers Wyl unless you earn it.¡± Ding, there was a few percentage on my progress bar. Score one for reasonable deductions.

    ¡°Hah. Stubborn old man.¡±

    ¡°Until the day I die.¡± I agreed with a slightly pleased tone. The comment got me another point. Of course, Carver was proud of being a hardheaded mule. Slowly but surely I was learning to be someone else. All at once disturbed, I logged out of my ARC and held very still as shaking overtook my senses.

    I didn¡¯t want to let go and for a moment it had felt like that was exactly what was happening. Counting backwards from sixty happened more than once. Then breathing, pinching the bridge of my nose, rubbing earlobes. All those things were techniques to try and calm myself. Each one helped me return to my happy place and not feel like the world was falling apart.

    A message on my ARC distracted me. I put it on play.

    ¡°Uncle Grant! It¡¯s been like, a week. I know you¡¯re playing, where are you? I want to come visit! Send me a message in game, I¡¯ll tell you all the best hunting spots! You haven¡¯t played until you¡¯ve been in a fight with the wolves in this game. They¡¯re super heart thumping. User name Thorny!¡±

    I about died giggling. Trust my niece to brighten my day with something blissfully out of place. My laughing convulsions kept going until both eyes watered. Beth was just a little crazy. Her friend probably had some other similarly silly name. I would have to think of a good name for myself, but nothing like Thorny. Goodness. Knowing my niece she had found some awkwardly matching title.

    That half demon skin she had, coupled with what I saw from the Temptress Voice painted a gloomy picture for Beth¡¯s mother, Liz. I wondered exactly how much she kept in the loop. Of course given the way Liz was as a teen, the apple didn¡¯t fall far from the tree. I remember avoiding mom and dad as much as possible when Liz was up to her antics. There was no way I would explain what my older twin was up to.

    Okay. Those thoughts of times past had me in a better mood. I cleaned up, grabbed a drink, relieved the pressure on my bladder and popped back into Continue.

    Auto pilot had me up the hill and panting for breath. All around an easier way to travel, but I lost a few points for not performing the actions myself. Neat. Even after the deduction I did well enough to get a bonus. Hopefully this would help me figure out some additional information. Though quests never made sense to me, why would an NPC with so much power and skill ask a player to help them with something difficult? Often times the player was lower level than the quest giver.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Reward: For reaching above 25% completion you will gain access to William Carvers skills. Over the course of his life he has gained a large number of abilities and secret bits of knowledge.

    Unlocked!

    William (Old Man) Carvers rank one skills are all displayed and can be actively used.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Progress: 28%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I mean, old man carver was old. Old, old, old, old, old, it made sense if I, posing as him, asked players to do things. Unless some of these skills were as neat as they looked. Titles ranged across the board. These traits were fairly self explanatory. [Truth Sense: Verbal specialist], [Weapon Focus: Bladed], [Retired Grand Explorer]. One made me really snort, [Stubborn as a Mule]. I only looked at a few of the items, scanning my eyes this way and that to trigger the displays for information. Hopefully no NPCs would think me mentally ill, considering I basically possessed William Carver. The thought of being some sort of skin walker made me throw up a bit in my mouth. I played it off as having a sour taste.

    ¡°We¡¯re here Carver. I¡¯ve got to get back to my duties. Will you be okay?¡±

    I waved the man off and stood there waiting, both hands on my cane and trying to hold steady while thoughts dripped through.

    This place was pretty. It sat overlooking the ocean, much like my bench but far higher up. We crisscrossed a few times up a painful incline that only had benches at the curves. Around me there seemed to be a few rooms and a downstairs of some sort. Things were a bit fuzzy in Carver land so I couldn¡¯t be sure. There seemed to be no male priests here, after a few minutes I was very, extremely sure of that.

    The dresses, columns and Romanesque designs were familiar. I slowly raised my eyes upwards and found, at the tallest point of the temple, as statue of a woman looking outward. Even fuzzy vision couldn''t disguise that far away look.

    Oh no. Wyl had escorted me right to a personal fan''s temple.

    ¡°Selena huh.¡± I muttered out loud while surveying the area. This seemed very typical of the Voice. Marble, ocean, distracted pondering of the ocean. Too bad she seemed to hate me. And since I was raking up about a billion negative reputation points with the Voice, I decided to earn a few more.

    ¡°I can see up your dress.¡± Giving the statue above my best old man leer paid off with two pop up boxes.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Divine Attention +4

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Progress: 26%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Heh.¡± Proof that my own skills would increase while under the guise of William Carver. I would need to wait until I was me to check out what exactly Divine Attention did. Not that the goal was stat points, more just yanking her chain.

    None of the priestesses paid me any attention despite my stellar commentary. I shuffled over to the edge and looked off into the distance. Even fuzzy there was a definite beauty to this scene, especially up high. A wind breezing through brought that fish smell of the ocean, which was unique to a land dweller like me.

    ¡°Nice view. I bet the sunsets are something.¡± I commented to the statue. Even though it was unlikely Selena was paying that much attention to me.

    Slowly I eased to the ground, much to the relief of my knees.

    ¡°Wish my eyesight wasn¡¯t so terrible.¡± A growl of my tummy and the dipping bar to one side of my view also explained other things currently lacking. I tilted my head back and spoke to the statue again.

    ¡°You know why I¡¯m here? I doubt your ladies invited me for a picnic.¡±

    ¡°Certainly not Will. From what I remember your cooking was terrible.¡± And that was a deceptively sweet voice full of artificial cuteness.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to come around. I¡¯ve grown to love the view.¡± In reality moving again would just hurt more.

    ¡°It¡¯s a view I¡¯ve enjoyed myself many times.¡± The woman with a fake syrupy voice came nearby and sat down. She was plump, short, and far too chesty. I only gave her a side glance and registered the system boxes providing me information. She was a High Priestess of Selena. Carver¡¯s information included everything from age, food preferences, to less public items. Such as a birthmark location and most common saying while being¡­compromised. It had been awhile since I compromised anyone on the level William Carvers information suggested. Goodness.

    She was certainly younger. Score one for Old Man Carver, I guess. I slowly scanned through more information and tried to gloss over the more lewd details. Turned out they hadn¡¯t been together in that fashion since the woman took on her role as High Priestess, so years ago.

    Oh. That¡¯s why I was here.

    ¡°Have you given more thought to giving Selena your oath?¡± Her name, Peach, sort of went with her general complextion.

    ¡°No.¡± I wasn¡¯t even lying in the slightest amount. I, Grant Legate, had given no thought to Selena getting my oath or anything else. I moved past that one during the trial room. Unsurprisingly the declaration gained me more progress points.

    ¡°Still the same old bull headed man.¡±

    I grunted, either from pain or in response.

    ¡°Hip okay?¡± She kept glancing sidelong at me. My simulated eyesight wasn''t so bad that I couldn''t see her head turn. Subtlty was not in her skill listing.

    ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°Shoulders?¡± Would Carver flinch at her tone? No, he found it endearing. Joy. I shook my head.

    ¡°Good as ever.¡± I licked at a dry lip and pondered how to handle all this.

    ¡°That¡¯s your way of saying it hurts every time the wind blows, right, you old goat?¡± The curve laden woman gave a laugh. Hah. This woman clearly knew Carver despite a grumpy exterior. Nor did she hesitate to point out his age. Hopefully I wouldn¡¯t screw up and betray Carvers recent passing.

    ¡°Ah well. You never admit anything anyway.¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± I managed to avoid nodding in confirmation. According to the information popping around me, this conversation was common. Weekly if I were to gauge. Wyl always had a guard take over the Guide duties below on the beach. Overall it was interesting NPC behavior.

    ¡°The Voice sent me a dream last night.¡± Her sweet voice managed to twist at the end. A slight gurgle that must mean unhappiness.

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°Selena showed me you, walking through a door into the beyond.¡±

    ¡°Was it white?¡± My eyes narrowed in thought.

    ¡°Pure, like fresh snow.¡± She nodded but had no hint of joy on her face. Her sweet tone of voice betrayed no additional information.

    ¡°Mh.¡± So Selena, the Voice who had never said a word, sent a picture of me in the trial room to her follower? My mind was splitting across this conversation and following my earlier train of thought. Wait a minute. How had this not occurred to me before? How exactly did an NPC die before their time, and be taken over by a player?

    ¡°I¡¯m worried about you William.¡± Her voice cracked a little.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be. I¡¯m healthy as an ox.¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡± She laughed and broke the sweetened voice completely before coughing and getting back into the act. ¡°You might fall over without that cane.¡±

    Suddenly I wanted to get away from the High Priestess and back to my bench. Carvers Journal would be read in a new light. One where he wasn¡¯t a computer generated creature, but a real player. One who had somehow been in this game years before public release. I sucked in my breath. Was he a beta player? Was Carver a Trillium employee? No wonder the Voices cared about his memory so much. Everything about this setup made so much more sense. A Trillium employee would be a VIP on this side of the ARC. The player who owned William Carver had died. What a crazy game.

    ¡°Are you alright William?¡±

    ¡°My hips are okay.¡±

    The woman sighed.

    ¡°William. I¡¯ve been watching, the last few weeks you¡¯ve been more distant, almost like you weren¡¯t even there. Now, today, I saw a bit of spring in your step, but something¡¯s wrong. I can tell.¡±

    I gave a faint smile with both eyes glued on the distance. If I was been able to leap into this role and gain all my points, perhaps Carver''s cover would have been better.

    There was a squabble of noise coming near the cliff. I sighed.

    Sure enough, flopping out of the air with a small bird was the [Messenger''s Pet]. They came in with a roll of feathers and decaying chirps. My tiny dragon buddy had managed to tuck one wing in as the tangled mess spun a few more times. It shook me out of the confused thought spiral I had descended into.

    ¡°Is that?¡±

    ¡°A small dragon. Yes.¡± Question answered and points lost. Go team me.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s a [Messenger''s Pet]. Isn¡¯t it?¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure how to respond so I just said nothing. Carvers messages from beyond had rather firmly advised me not to answer questions without an exchange.

    ¡°Oh William.¡± And for some reason the woman next to me became extremely sad, and hugged this old man¡¯s head. I was amazed at the detail of my situation. Her skin felt like real skin, fingers felt warm, William Carver was extremely frail and the motion hurt.

    Finally, with no further words, she just walked away and left me alone. There I sat in confusion, staring at the small dragon tear into his prey''s remains. Two women had found my buddy''s presence strange. Why did that make me sad?

    ¡°What did you do, huh?¡± The dragon crunched a bone and provided no response.

    ¡°Fine. Back to work then.¡± My cane wobbled around without finding solid purchase. Eventually I managed to get the pseudo leg under me and wandered off down the hill. Back to my bench, and back to my, his, journal. Wait. I am not William Carver. William Carver is dead. The thought shook me.

    Tonight, when Carver went to bed and I could log out without risk, I would look up Trillium''s site. Maybe there was be something useful. A salute to a deceased employee, assuming William Carver wasn¡¯t played by some random no name from across the globe. I wanted to see the real world face of the man whose body I occupied.

    Happy place, I had to stay in my happy place. I had to not think about people who William had left behind, or how badly my acting skills were. Let¡¯s not dwell on the fact that this body had belonged to flesh and blood, not just a digital cutout. People might be watching me right now and commenting on a clearly lacking performance.

    Oh goodness. I¡¯m a failure. I¡¯m screwing it all up again. Happy place, countdown, focus on walking. Set a simple task, get to the bottom of the hill, and relieve the guard, read a book. Follow the simple on screen prompts telling me how to be someone else.

    Oh goodness.

    Steps were interspersed with clenched eyes and waves of aching. Pauses to rest were taken while the tiny [Messenger''s Pet] got into fights with anything that moved. All manor of creatures were subjected to his rage. Stray [Coo-Coo Rills], birds of strange origins, even flowers waving in a breeze. No fire was used in the harming of animals however. I guess he preferred his meat raw.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Little Savage.

    I tried to bonk him with the cane in passing, which nearly sent me tumbling for a pure miss. He gave me a halfhearted hiss before tearing into the latest floral victim.

    Once on the bench, I started reading. Six game days passed with this basic routine. Sit on a bench, give new players mindless tasks. Two players were sent on follow up quests regarding Mylia. Neither one came back.

    If William Carver was a real person then whole quest system he got was something granted by the computer. The system must extremely neat to pull this off. I shuffled William back to his home for the night and log out. Once there I gave researching Trillium employee information a go. Turned out being a private eye was not one of my skills, not even using the ARC or Hal Pal¡¯s interactive responses.

    I gave up quickly and took a nap before hopping back into the ARC to live as Carver. My brain was getting all messed up from living this way, but it also felt like a really, really, long vacation. In a dead man''s virtual body.

    Right, I had to keep shifting my focus to positive items. I managed to build up my progress bar to over fifty percent. That was good. Carver had five journals covering decades in game, which was also good. It let me narrow down the search to employees who had worked with Trillium for years. Plus the stories were funny. There was a theme to the autobiography. He wrote about his friends Michelle and Yates, well, friends was too strong, they seemed more like office members. None of them moved around as much as William had. William went everywhere in the game. Michelle went from one crafting skill to another, to another, and rarely left the same city.

    Yates, if the stories were believed, had traveled to other planes and written entire books on it. He played this game and scrawled out all of his findings on digital ink. Had they been like Carvers? There wasn¡¯t anything that outright said ¡®I¡¯m a player¡¯, maybe the game had censored things.

    And everywhere that Carver went, the [Messenger''s Pet] was sure to follow. He hung out randomly in the Atrium of my ARC. He wandered near William Carver while being logged in. By the end of day two of real time I expected to wake up to the tiny dragons presence inside my real world room. He seemed trapped in the digital landscape. Turns out dragons pooped excessively large amounts.

    My most recent adventure was dealing with another new player.

    ¡°Are you sure this is the right way?¡± The woman wore starter clothes comprising of a thin shirt and pants that all new players were given. Her wide hips pulled the pants tightly around her legs. I glossed over her user name like every other new player to come my way.

    ¡°You wanted a training hall. This is the right way.¡± This latest charge had demanded I walk her to the destination instead of just handing over a map.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    The bench was starting to sicken me anyway. One week down, three to go. Too many of these new players had shown up recently. They were about half and half in terms of attitude verses confusion.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. You¡¯re senile. I¡¯ll bet you¡¯re programmed by the same people who made my coffee machine.¡± Even her footsteps sounded angry as we made our way down the street.

    ¡°What¡¯s a coffee machine?¡± I feigned ignorance.

    ¡°Stupid computer.¡±

    We were only a few vague city blocks away. There were a stands, stores, and one or two rows of housing, but I could see the roof of the training hall from here. I, Grant Legate, had never been inside but Carvers map had tons of information.

    ¡°Over there.¡± I sat on a bench and pointed out the destination. Moving around as William had good days and bad, today was somewhere between. Bench time was delightful.

    ¡°This doesn¡¯t look like a training center.¡±

    ¡°What did you expect?¡± Queen of the hate filled frump didn¡¯t like my question. She was all hips and anger.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. People, rules, a guide, something.¡±

    ¡°Try walking inside. See if Madam Hall is there.¡± Madam Hall was one of the people that managed the training building. She was also half a brick from the dossier on Williams maps

    ¡°You¡¯re a rude machine.¡±

    ¡°Get what you give.¡± I calmly responded.

    ¡°Jerk.¡±

    Bets were on this woman earning Madam Hall''s anger. Especially since she didn¡¯t like being called Madam, or Hall, she preferred Peg. According to my notes the woman would assign extra duties to anyone who address her the wrong way.

    Hopefully by the end of today this player would understand being rude wouldn¡¯t get her far. Or maybe it would, there seemed to be options and paths for every type of person. I sat and read the latest journal to pass more time, putting the future of Continue''s newest player out of my mind.

    <blockquote><cite> Wrote: </cite>I can¡¯t believe those idiots each got their own assignment. In order to sign off on the project we had to provide them an incentive. Part of me would have been perfectly comfortable keeping these adventures to myself. Yet, there are too many things, too much for me to handle on my own.

    Eventually I¡¯ll have to slow down. The medics have once again reminded me how little time is left. At least like this, here, I can make every second count.

    I stayed on that boat for three weeks talking to sailors about myths and legends, trying to plot out my next exploration. Some of these quests would require an army, which I don¡¯t have.

    Eventually there will be other Travelers though. Eventually. Someone will have to show them the ropes and make them understand how real this world is.</blockquote>

    Well. Was that why William Carver played as a new guide? His passages seemed to indicate a medical issue. It wasn¡¯t enough to stop him¡­

    Oh.

    William had a real world problem and a time limit. He was playing Continue to explore a world and enjoy the four to one compression. This made a lot more sense once I realized a player had written these journals. Oh. That¡¯s why he was a guide to new players! He was showing them the ropes. I turned over the journal and nearly giggled in happiness. This was great. That might be why I stalled out on my progress over the last day or two. Something in my actions was lacking compared to Carvers expectations.

    ¡°MMmh. What do you think Little Savage?¡± I asked the tiny dragon. He was dragging a stick along the ground while growling around the edge. I couldn¡¯t decide if the small creature was more like a cat or dog. No, clearly cats and dogs were like dragons. That was it. He didn¡¯t respond to Little Savage. Honestly the [Messenger''s Pet] didn¡¯t respond to any name I attempted to attach. Food though, the creature responded to food at any point.

    I closed the book and asked myself, what would Carver do?

    The problem was me. I wasn¡¯t following through, on anything. Four volumes of the man¡¯s thoughts and I could tell when tasked with something he went full bore. Me? I hadn¡¯t tried to find a heroic battle. I hadn¡¯t put serious work into figuring out Mylia. I was nearly flippant when assigning people their quests. Painfully I stood up. It required summoning all the bull headed determination that could be applied to a deceased William Carver. Once stable I walked towards the training building.

    Inside was misleading. The building itself was half covered and led out to a yard that was beaten by the passage of hundreds of players. Rain, sweat, and blood had matted into the dirt to make it harder than the cobblestone walkways. All the best stuff hid under cover. Peg Hall was across the yard near one of the training dummies. She argued, loudly, with the new player about something.

    I looked around with my fuzzy eyesight. Information boxes popped up with vague information. A set of beaten straw dummies sat under the covered area I wandered into. There was a bar dropped across saw like holders that went up a tall wall. Weapons racks with equally damaged belongings.

    ¡°Huh.¡± I wandered the edge of the room, ignoring the screaming match. Peg seemed a step away from getting physical. The wide hipped ball of anger was oblivious.

    ¡°Huh.¡± This latest rack had four types of swords. According to Old Man Carvers skill swords were the favored weapon. He had preferred over the top two handed in many of his stories.

    I picked one up while Peg resumed screaming orders. I chose Peg for this newest player because their personalities would clash. Carvers map had alternate options, one of the males at the training grounds was almost super model in appearance. His notes also indicated a tendency to sleep with anything moving. That seemed like a bad combination.

    Goodness this sword was heavy. This was strange. It wasn''t the weight dragging at one side and how disproportionate the weapon looked compared to Old Man Carvers hands. No, all Old Man Carvers aches and pains seemed to diminish in a wave of energy. Putting my second hand over the hilt only made the difference stand out more. Carver was extremely comfortable holding a blade.

    I tried to take a stance, slowly edging until the balancing points felt right. I, Grant Legate, was no sword master. Instead my skills came from Old Man Carvers body wanting to lean certain ways. Falling into comfortable patterns was easy with my dancing experience. Swinging around a hefty weight was familiar.

    ¡°What are you doing William?¡± Peg abruptly turned from her shouting match and looked at me.

    I grunted and stood uncomfortably swinging a blade in front of the professional. But this moment, holding a weapon like this, was pain free. I wanted to enjoy that for as long as possible.

    ¡°William! I swear to the Voices you¡¯ve lost every sense of sanity they¡¯ve graced you with. Put, that, down!¡±

    A scowl crossed my face but both arms held the pleasent pose. This was like being completely and utterly relaxed but still taut at the same time. Carvers body felt almost ready for anything. The straw dummy next to me was practically quivering in terror.

    Oh. A bar identified as Stamina was starting to drop quickly. I had cleverly placed it next to my hunger bar. They were both measures of my ability to last. The stamina bar had been helping me for the last few days in traveling around. Guess Old Man Carver couldn¡¯t hold a weapon too long, no matter how positive the action felt. With my remaining energy I let go of my awkward stance holding the sword and racked the weapon.

    ¡°What were you thinking William?!¡±

    ¡°I know my limits Peg.¡± I had a very clear bar to outline them. Add in six days reading and performing inside the skin of another player and limits were extremely visible. He had come to this world to hunt dragons with the last years of his life. Then, since I assumed he succeeded, retired to rise a new generation up.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± The cane was much lighter and much easier to wave around at the new player.

    ¡°Her? Is this your fault? Voices have mercy, why would I want to deal with this woman? Give me a young strapping boy any time. They¡¯re fun to watch sweat and so much more reasonable.¡±

    ¡°But not her?¡± I ignored the NPC''s dreamy look.

    ¡°No! She storms in here, and demands I teach her how to fight, and refuses to work for it.¡± Pegs arms waved in disgust and then crossed. The wide hipped woman was busy swinging a staff of some sort at the other straw dummy. Even my untrained eye could see how bad she was doing.

    ¡°She¡¯s energetic.¡±

    ¡°Possessed more like.¡± Peg said. I tried not to get thrown off my game at her apt description of my own state. Luckily Old Man Carver was slow to respond.

    ¡°It happens.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen Travelers swing like her before. They¡¯re just violent. All the time.¡±

    ¡°We are what life makes of us.¡± My shoulders gave a tiny shrug.

    ¡°Voices, I don¡¯t believe that. You¡¯ve worked with them more than anyone. Voices, you even warned us they¡¯d be coming months in advance, are they all so angry?¡±

    I debated the worth of answering her question. Old Man Carver didn¡¯t like responding to questions without an exchange of some sort.

    ¡°Peg, you help an old man remember how to swing a sword, and I¡¯ll answer any questions you might want about Travelers.¡± That comment gained me a few, even after admitting my age out loud.

    ¡°Years now, and I feel like I don¡¯t understand any of them. They just rush through lessons until they break apart, and come back again for more!¡± Peg threw both hands in the air and rolled her eyes.

    I stood there resting on the cane. My normal aches and pains were slowly returning. The sensation was a far cry from the constant numbing existence I lived while being logged into the ARC.

    ¡°I mean some of them, they¡¯re just like our people, even their sayings and strange words make sense after a while. But Voices, all those fresh to our world, they come in so¡­¡±

    The wide hipped new player was yelling at the straw man. Her words had degenerated into senseless tones that just came out sharply.

    ¡°Angry?¡± I volunteered.

    ¡°Voices yes.¡± Peg managed to walk over to the rack and snag a weapon for me while never taking her eye off the new student. There was a reason she ran this place.

    ¡°She¡¯s got no style. No coordination.¡±

    ¡°Lots of energy.¡±

    ¡°For now. Wait until I start putting her through the basic course. She¡¯ll either run screaming back to you for a new life choice, or be ready to move on.¡±

    ¡°She may go home.¡± And never log into Continue again.

    ¡°I doubt it. Some vanish for a few days, weeks even, but eventually I see them all again.¡±

    ¡°This world has much to offer that theirs doesn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Like what? Maybe you can explain it in a better way than they do. Voices above, the stuff they talk about sounds like a dream.¡±

    ¡°Remind me how to swing this first.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Voices know you shouldn¡¯t need a reminder. You taught my brother.¡± Both hands uncrossed and went to her hips. Peg''s head tilted as she studied my old form top to bottom.

    ¡°Humor me.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Your balance is still solid, how are your hips?¡± She stared at them.

    ¡°Women keep asking me about my hips.¡± I managed to keep a passive face.

    ¡°Them¡¯s the breaks of a retired hero.¡± Peg laughed happily. ¡°More than one lady lifted her skirt in hopes of birthing a legend.¡±

    ¡°Even you Peg?¡±

    ¡°Voices no, I hold a look but don¡¯t touch policy most days. I¡¯ve seen them all at the start. Half of them show up in our world with a spare head up their asses. Can¡¯t get that image out of my head.¡±

    I laughed and held the much lighter sword.

    ¡°There. You haven¡¯t completely lost the touch. Your balance is a bit different than what I remember. I imagine age is catching up with you.¡±

    ¡°And my hips.¡± No points lost there either. Was Carver a witty person? Or was my progress bar just in limbo while my attempted change of pace was judged by the Voices?

    ¡°Everything starts from the core. Hips go, everything goes.¡± Peg said. Her arms were lifting mine a bit higher and adjusting the swords tip.

    ¡°Swing again.¡±

    I did, trying to get everything in concert.

    ¡°Rusty, but better than I expected. Again.¡±

    So it went for another ten whacks against the target dummy. What little practice I had resulted from my time in the room of trials. There was no moment in my past where I had secretly taken a martial art or joined a kendo team. I knew nothing about weapons beyond what television and video games had shown me.

    Peg kept adjusting my movements just a little bit here and there. She stood near the dummy and told me where to aim for, which way to swing the blade. If my actions were odd to her, she was kind enough not to mention it.

    ¡°What¡¯s this, the blind leading the blind?¡±

    ¡°Voices.¡± Peg said that word a lot. Maybe it was the closest she allowed herself to a real curse word.

    ¡°William has forgotten more about being a hero than you¡¯ll ever be able to reach with your attitude.¡±

    ¡°Then what¡¯s he doing there? If he¡¯s so great.¡± The new player was digging her staff into the dirt. Twisting it back and forth as small curls of earth were displaced by force.

    ¡°He¡¯s more than¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t answer her Peg.¡± I cut the instructor off. ¡°She hasn¡¯t earned it.¡±

    ¡°Earned? Who are you to say if I¡¯ve earned something or not?¡±

    ¡°Who am I?¡± I was winded and needed to set down the new sword anyway. ¡°Who are you? You show up in this world and start demanding like you¡¯re something here.¡±

    ¡°Shut up you old geezer.¡±

    ¡°Well played. An insult for a question. Peg, why don¡¯t you show her the proper way to beat up a straw man.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s do just that! Will you be okay William?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll pace myself Peg.¡± My head dipped in a slow nod and both eyes stayed on the swords tip.

    I had to give points to Peg. She managed to herd off the new player with the skill of an expert. The instructor shouted, taunted, and called the other woman a failure who wouldn¡¯t be able to defend herself. That set the player into fits. Her fury was vented upon the straw figure. There we sat, each of us hitting different dummies. I kept a vague eye towards my progress bar, which hadn¡¯t changed one way or the other over the last thirty minutes.

    Peg switched between us for another hour while ¡®reminding¡¯ me how to move and stand. Old Man Carvers body could stand maybe five minutes of weak standing mixed with occasional strikes. Waiting for my stamina to refill took another four minutes which I spent watching the new player or talked to Peg. Two apple like fruits were enough to refile the old man''s satiety bar.

    It felt weird to go from real life, where I worked on ARC¡¯s and was driven around in a van, to this much slower existence. With all the information pop ups and reviews there was still an excessive amount of downtime. The time compression made everything feel like living really long weekends.

    I enjoyed my situation though. When not thinking about the ghost in machine that acted like my fianc¨¦es or James actions. The large black Voice hadn¡¯t crossed my mind recently. I had no idea how to contact him, unless he had a statue somewhere like Selena did.

    Saying inappropriate things at a lifelike carving was very attention getting. I¡¯m glad the real world didn¡¯t work that way. Imagining rows of people in pews getting [Divine Attention] for each prayer made me smile.

    Williams arms weren¡¯t going to last much longer, even with resting. It felt good though. She instructions, tips, ideas on where to swing and how. Even under the guise of a refresher, had given me a lot to think about. Maybe I would download one of those ARC combat programs. The additional help couldn¡¯t hurt and would make me feel less like a complete newbie.

    After I started the game as myself and could build real skills. William Carvers skills were locked as is. Honestly my sad performance should be dragging down his ratings.

    ¡°How can you just keep swinging like that? How? I¡¯m exhausted.¡±

    ¡°Practice.¡± I said calmly.

    ¡°Yeah right. I bet you were just designed that way.¡± She even managed to work past her cotton mouth to spit on the ground in disgust. Then she looked kind of pleased.

    ¡°Happy?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never done that before.¡± There was a faint sense of wonder in her tone. Down went my practice sword yet again.

    ¡°That¡¯s the point, isn¡¯t it? Here you can learn and do new things. Yet, you belittle everyone who might help.¡± I intended to take advantage of it myself. Sitting on a bench for another three weeks would be dreadfully boring.

    ¡°You have no right to talk to me like that.¡±

    ¡°You came to our world Traveler.¡± Everyone thought William Carver was an NPC, I had to act like one. Words like ARC, or Continue, or other real world concepts would blow his cover.

    ¡°You¡¯re just a program. Why can¡¯t you just give me what I want? It¡¯d be so much quicker.¡±

    ¡°Are things so simple in your world? Do you just survive without trade for anything?¡± My question of course was clearly a trap. People had to work for money, spend money to gain things. Continue Online and its entire world was much the same.

    ¡°My husband works if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking.¡±

    ¡°Then you understand, food costs coin, services cost coin, or a trade. We can¡¯t just give you what you want without an exchange or the whole system would fall apart.¡± I sighed. It took me a bit to adapt myself. Continues world was extremely realistic regarding give and take.

    Pop up boxes with information had been the only item between me and complete immersion. Maybe I would turn them off some days just to feel like I was on a vacation. The beach here was one step away from Waikiki in Hawaii, at least the way the beach used to be decades ago.

    ¡°If you want skills, you have to learn them. Peg is one of the best nearby in showing Travelers like you the basics.¡± I stumbled back to the weapons rack and put the light sword back. One shoulder had started throbbing more than usual. Bending over to pick up the cane was nearly impossible.

    ¡°Why does that matter?¡± The wide hipped woman said.

    ¡°Why are you here? If you don¡¯t want to fight, don¡¯t. Learn a trade, or don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not making sense. You shouldn¡¯t be demanding that I learn something.¡±

    ¡°Then don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t care?¡± Her voice tilted up and the staff in her hand shook from her budding anger.

    ¡°Nope.¡± Carver¡¯s synchronization bar dropped a few points on that one. William did care about new players. ¡°Let¡¯s just say that neither I, nor any of the other people here, will force you to do much of anything.¡± There, I recovered a point and managed to use the word nor in a real sentence.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±

    ¡°You chose to come here. Now figure out what you want from us, and what you¡¯re willing to pay to learn. Nearly everyone is willing to help you, if you earn it.¡±

    ¡°I thought quests were just a simple go here, do this. Every other game I¡¯ve played is just like that, starter zones are a basic area to learn the ropes. Things should be easy.¡± The new player sounded so flustered. She wasn¡¯t the first either.

    ¡°But you¡¯re all making this too hard.¡± Then she asked the same question that had been plaguing me since the first moment I had opened the gift wrapped package in my Atrium.

    ¡°What kind of game is this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s no game. To us it¡¯s very real, and very serious.¡± I repeated James¡¯s words in the trial room a week ago. Over a week in game I had become more invested than expected. I wasn¡¯t even surprised to see my progress jump up five percent.

    The other woman waved one hand and vanished, a perplexed and worried look on her face. Had I worn the same look when talking to James? Moments later, I too logged out, leaving William Carver to go about the town on autopilot. This game was messing with my head, making me act weird, and I needed a break.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Ten - Prides Precipice

    <cite></cite>Continue was a strange sensation. There were other virtual games and programs. I had even tried some. Most felt like rehashes of already existing games but more interactive. Revamps of prior releases were a popular way to go. Asians had entire swaths of crazy themes that hadn¡¯t quite hit America proper.

    Continue won by sheer name power. Trillium, the company that made the ARC, designed a game that launched the only virtual reality system.

    That was a lie. There were tons of others at first. Trillium and the ARC won. Thousands logged in upon release. Millions played by the end of the first six months. Hundreds of millions had accounts a year later. Trillium hid much of the game from the public, but subscription counts were made public knowledge. Continue won. The average player spent twenty hours a week logged into their ARC. The average player had been playing for a year. The average player voted Continue as the most impressive game worldwide.

    William Carver was proof that the number was growing. Trillium hadn¡¯t throttled all the information. Tidbits out there lead me to believe Continue had dozens of starting points. Were their guides also older players?

    ¡±You¡¯re Carver, right?¡±

    So my daily grind began again. Another new player and another exchange while they asked for help. This map had been a Voice sent blessing for so many reasons. Hours could pass while I read the little details. Plus they responded very well when I asked for specific talents or skills.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Progress: 63%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I am. You must be new around here.¡± Carver¡¯s journals were almost gone. Two more days had passed while reading.

    ¡°My friend said you helped her.¡± The person was make, young, and still had a slightly childish quality to his voice.

    ¡°Might have. What¡¯s it to you?¡± Gnarled fingers turned to the next page.

    ¡°I have to catch up. She started yesterday and I had homework.¡±

    ¡°Good. Work hard.¡± This adventure was a page turner so most of my responses were half baked. The entries were a little smutty too.

    <blockquote><cite> Wrote: </cite>Part of me feels strange about this. Here I am, on one adventure after another. The rewards are usually negligible, but the women...

    Just last week there was this case with a half serpent creature. It seemed familiar from my childhood, but this place didn¡¯t have any similar lore. You¡¯d think snakes spit venom, but not so much this go around.

    He was extremely violent.

    She was equally rewarding. Turned out her venom had very positive effects, and true to snake form, she squeezed me dry.

    I could have said no but that long dead Captain of The Stars would have frowned at my actions. Long live childhood heroes.</blockquote>

    ¡°Can you help me Carver?¡± There was a shuffle of feet as the new player grew closer. My eyes stayed glued to the journal.

    ¡°I¡¯ll bet your direct attitude does your parents proud.¡± He all but said ¡®Quest now old man¡¯. Carver accepted no rudeness and only gave it out! I looked at him finally.

    ¡°My parents?¡± The young man, a scrawny looking teen with the user name Awesome Jr., lost focus in confusion before shaking his head.

    ¡°What do you want Awesome?¡± I asked him. He looked fourteen but had to at least be eighteen to play this game.

    ¡°Awesome¡¯s my father.¡±

    A sigh escaped. I had walked right into that stupid joke.

    ¡°And?¡± Players thought they were so clever with their names. I had met people with gibberish names. I had met people named after famous actors. They included flowers, book characters, television heroes, or strange handles they developed. Pie Master had been the funniest one. He asked for a bakery and I happily sent him and the [Messenger''s Pet] forth.

    Awesome Jr. swallowed and hastily tried to explain something that just didn¡¯t sink in. Something about a girl who passed through before and he was trying to meet up with her in the game.

    ¡°Who is she to you?¡±

    ¡°A friend.¡±

    ¡°Girlfriend?¡± I said dryly.

    ¡°No. Not that, no.¡± He was flustered. The boy was socially awkward, a common problem with the latest generation. Everyone was so plugged into the computer that interaction, face to face like this game did, was hard.

    ¡°So go meet her. I know well enough that people from your world have ways of communicating.¡± Carver¡¯s next journal entry was about a whale that devoured ships. So far he had recounted five boring days of nothing where he sailed with a crew in search of the beast.

    <blockquote><cite> Wrote: </cite>Day Six: If this whale isn¡¯t white, I¡¯m going to punch that man in the face and kick her metal box. Not that she¡¯ll even notice. Maybe I¡¯ll just scrawl some nasty notes on walls nearby.</blockquote>

    ¡°Well. Uhhh¡­¡± Awesome Jr. said with his standard eloquence.

    ¡°Not that easy?¡± Slowly, because today was a bad hip day, I pulled the bookmark cord into place and closed my journal. The book was set down and both my hands clasped together.

    ¡°Well. No.¡± The young man had a flush to his face that reached to his ear tips.

    ¡°Okay. Awesome, Junior, what exactly do you want from me?¡±

    ¡°A quest?¡± He sounded confused.

    ¡°A quest. To do what?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Something? Don¡¯t you just,¡± he trailed off for a moment ¡°give me something to do? Then show me where something is?¡±

    Oh joy. He was one of those Travelers. A fresh faced boy with no clue what he wanted to do and had joined just to follow someone else. It made my own confusion about this game seem annoyingly commonplace. This was still less annoying than the type who screamed ¡®I¡¯m going to be a great adventurer¡¯.

    ¡°No.¡± My head shook slowly and both hands felt tried from when I held the book.

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡±

    ¡°Here¡¯s a quest. Take this map. Visit the people on it, ask how other Travelers are doing. Then come back here and tell me what you learn.¡±

    A pop up displayed a newly formed quest for the player. I learned enough of Carver''s desires over the last few days to get a feel for missed opportunities. He would want to know how the new players were doing in this world. If they were still around, the NPCs I sent them to would have an answer. Soon the journal was open again so my perusal of Carver''s past could continue.

    <blockquote><cite> Wrote: </cite>Day Seventeen: The whale wasn¡¯t actually a whale. It was a squid looking creature. Not that it was called a squid; everything in here looks just a bit off. They¡¯ve gone down different evolutionary paths.

    It was white and a few hundred feet long. The creature had seven arms instead of eight and a hammer like shape to its head that was probably useless for swimming. That was something else.

    Oh, and it killed most of the crew before we vanquished it. Boat''s a mess, taking on water in places we shouldn¡¯t be. People are downstairs fixing it. I lived. The Captain, a fine woman who filled a corset to bursting, was pleased with the results. She looked even better with the corset off, but we both decided to keep the boots on.

    This kind of thing can¡¯t be good for my heart. It does assist my will to live though, and the medics say I need as much of that as I can muster.</blockquote>

    Goodness. Carver was very single minded. Dragon to be slayed, ladies to be laid, for great justice! I doubt he was the only one in Continue who went about with such focused desires.

    Awesome Jr. would be out getting distracted by everything that moved. His path would probably go right by the brothel, which had distracted at least two new players over the last few days. Either way he would be busy so I could to skim through the last of William Carver''s Journals.

    Plus, and this was the real reason, walking hurt. A nosy sort of boredom had overtaken me recently to boot. Plenty of reasons existed to send a new player out to find other newbies.

    He might not find the kid I sent to moo at a cow. Hah. I hoped this new player, Awesome Jr, did find that would be assassin. I wanted to hear how the first week in Continue had treated him.

    After Awesome Jr wandered off, I poked at the hood to Carver''s robe. This thing was ugly, bland, and felt scratchy, but the hood did well in the rain.

    It also occasionally housed a sleeping [Messenger''s Pet]. The tiny creature had started napping there a few days ago, after cracking the fifty percent marker. New traits had opened up including [Relaxing Presence] and [Monster Tamer].

    [Monster Tamer] probably triggered after he hunted down the horse creature from his journal. Those were some of the less odd traits too. Carver had another trait called [Point Man]. From the text this had more to do with scoring points with the ladies and little to do with scouting.

    Peg had been right. This old body had touched more woman than desired if the journals were to be believed. I had walked him home early after one of the less savory encounters and left myself on autopilot in a hot tub. I didn¡¯t know if the old man¡¯s writing should be praised or reviled for the descriptive terms.

    Repeated hood tapping finally woke the creature up. A head popped out of folds in the hood and a yawn of jaws snapped together with a click.

    ¡°Go help that poor boy out. Make sure he doesn¡¯t get lost.¡±

    The tiny creature growled in displeasure.

    ¡°We can stop at the bakery on the way home. How¡¯s that?¡± Paying for goods in game was cheaper than adding items into my ARC and far less messy.

    Sure enough the greedy little fellow flew off.

    Almost two weeks and I still haven¡¯t found a name he responds to. A few people had stopped to ask what he was, I just told them a baby dragon. They found it funny since Old Man Carver had a title called [Dragon Slayer] tucked away in his character sheet.

    I had read the description. That trait should have made any dragon, or dragon related creature instantly dislike the body I was in. Yet the [Messenger''s Pet] seemed completely indifferent. Guess it wasn¡¯t a dragon, or didn¡¯t care about William Carver.

    That made him the only creature for miles that showed little interest in this body I inhabited. The whole thing was a weird contradiction that sat on the back burner of my problems.

    ¡°Far too smart sometimes.¡± I muttered at the fleeing tiny dragon. Chances were the [Messenger''s Pet] would be distracted at dozens of times while helping the new player.

    Hopefully wouldn''t be any more dead Coo-Coo Rills in my Atrium. That was a mystery that was unlikely to be revealed anytime soon. One silly program altering creature had up heaved most of my personal time, the few hours I got while Old Man Carver slept.

    ¡°Father says you wanted a break today, Mister Carver.¡± The younger guard from earlier managed to sneak up on me. It should have been impossible from the way his armor jangled.

    ¡°I do Dayl, if you¡¯d take over for me.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing Mister Carver sir. Father says you¡¯re back to practicing with Peg. Is that true?¡± Dayl''s headgear slipped out of place and he hastily pushed it back up

    ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°Father says you¡¯re¡­¡±

    ¡°Dayl.¡± He snapped to attention while his armor rang in protest.

    ¡°Yes Mister Carver?¡±

    ¡°Shut up now.¡± Oh look, another percentage on my progress bar.

    ¡°Yes, Mister Carver, sir.¡±

    I grumbled and headed off, under canopies of trees, past the bakery and across town. Each step painful, but not unbearable. Working with Peg on exercises had been extremely helpful, almost like physical therapy. Every time I logged out the dull ache from Carver''s body and these exercises lingered and kept me tired.

    Mylia was walking nearby, which was part of the reasoning behind requesting a guard. I got to chat with her for a few breaths before we split and went different directions. No progress on her side quest yet. None of the new players I talked to had provided any sort of useful opening. Mylia herself was nearly an enigma.

    ¡°Are you going to visit the children tonight? They¡¯ve been asking when you¡¯ll share more stories.¡± She said. I grunted and kept walking, cane alternating with my slightly more limber body. ¡°I tell the little ones that you¡¯re not up to it most days.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± She had mentioned that William Carver read stories to kids. I hadn¡¯t pursued it enough among everything else going on, that was nearly two weeks ago. Goodness. I was almost halfway through this strange existence and still things blindsided me.

    ¡°Can you visit this evening? You seem to be moving much better. They¡¯d love to see you¡¯re doing well.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make time Mylia. For the children of course.¡± I tried to sound gruff and serious. Reading children a story would be emotionally painful.

    A reminder of how life didn¡¯t go. I paused mid step, clenched both eyes for a moment, and tried not to sway. In real life I could push through these moments, but in the game, with Carver''s weakened body, it was harder to stay upright.

    Happy place. Focus on a happy place. The sky was glorious. The world around me was bright and lively. People went about their day pleasantly chattering away.

    ¡°Of course Mister Carver.¡± Mylia smiled. I could see an almost glow of happiness pass over her features, but I fought to keep Carver''s eyes focused forward.

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to your rounds and go let the children know to expect you.¡±

    I nodded and gave a half wave. Old Man Carver would never show weakness in front of a lady! The moment Mylia was out of sight I tracked down the nearest bench and rested. A journey to Peg''s required pit stops despite my navigating far better than I had the first few days.

    This was how most days seemed to go. I logged in, wandered to the beach bench, and alternated between reading or helping out new players. NPCs from about town would drop by occasionally with very friendly conversations. They reminded me of the day to day life I had ¡®forgotten¡¯ in the last few weeks.

    Player¡¯s occasionally tracked me down again. Occasionally they came back three or four times to ask about other skills. I updated their map after asking them to complete a new quest. More than one player was sent to pick up cupcakes for my [Messenger''s Pet] friend. I challenged one girl to come up with a name for the tiny creature. She didn''t get a positive response. After nearly fifty names and complete failure, I updated her map with the location of a farmhand who had a certain way with animals. She had tried hard.

    One older man, who had to be near Carver''s age, just started the game and sat down on the bench. We said nothing for two hours as the sun set. I left him a map with a leading towards one of the towns three mystic tutors. This one focused on more theoretical puzzle stuff. In the morning the scroll had been gone and the older man hadn¡¯t turned up again.

    One player logged in and he ran around until he ran out of stamina. He would lay there, gasping with an overly excited look on his face. Once the bar was full, he took off, kicking up dirt and sand all along the beach. His shouts brought a smile to my face. The player hadn¡¯t outright said it but I was willing to bet his legs were damaged somehow in real life.

    Each player that popped in was a little different. They asked for different things, spoke in ways that didn¡¯t line up at first. Part of me started to realize that this game was routing players from all over the globe to this starting zone.

    How did I understand them then?

    I asked Beth one day between rounds as William Carver. She left me a voice mail citing that since the game was all digital immersion there wasn¡¯t actually an English language. The system was translating conversations super-fast from the Earth languages to gibberish and back.

    It wasn¡¯t like people showed up in the game being clearly Asian, or Indian, or any other obvious ethnicity. These players were all human though. My city, [Haven Valley], was on the border of two human Kingdoms. They had a very loose alliance that was constantly teetering according to Dayl. I sighed and put all those thoughts out of my mind and read another passage from Carver''s final journal.

    <blockquote><cite> Wrote: </cite>Recently I¡¯ve felt everything catching up. An irony of my situation is that being forced into bed rest has increased my play time. They were kind enough to dial down the feedback so my ticker doesn¡¯t feel the strain like it used to.

    Of course everything else is less sensitive, but I should be happy this old goat got a few final rolls in the hay.

    I reread the notes I¡¯d scribbled down two years ago when I first started visiting here. I¡¯m sad to think of all the people I¡¯ve left behind over my journey. There were so many promises to visit, and I couldn¡¯t fulfill half of them.</blockquote>

    Strange.

    I feel like this world is more real than the other. Maybe it¡¯s just a wish of mine, to hope that if my body dies there, that I can keep on adventuring over here. To live like a child again, in a world where so many dreams are possible.

    I should call Michelle, and thank him before it¡¯s too late.

    Abruptly, halfway through this final book, the entries stopped. No word of his time as a Guide, or this town, or how he came to settle here. Nothing of value citing what had happened, or where he was going to end up. This was his form of retirement I guess, but what filled in the gaps?

    I shoved the book into a pocket and kept onward with my journey to Peg.

    One possibility, one that worried me, was that William Carver had died before being able to write another entry. At what point had the computer literally taken over his life? It felt fairly recent, but the NPCs around here acted like Carver had been a firm presence since the game was released.

    I should write some letters. Just to make sure Carver got one last chance to say goodbye.

    ¡°Let''s see.¡± I mumbled to myself, looking over the weapons. Heavier ones actually made my progress bar improve. Lighter ones meant I could last longer, but they were a really slow decline.

    ¡°You better not be trying to break your arms again William!¡±

    ¡°No such luck Peg!¡± My yell was more of a mumbling grunt into the wall. I had to lean close to see how the handles looked.

    Carver had a skill called b[Weapon Evaluation] that seemed to rank the value of items. According to the details it was a sub-skill of [Identification] that focused on weapons. The more I studied the lineup, the more accurate the rating was. Using the game''s feedback, I picked a larger two handed blade. It looked big compared to the frail arms and body I resided in, but wasn¡¯t exactly an over the top anime sword either.

    ¡°Seriously William! You retired!¡± Peg was still shouting at me and alternating with some other person. They didn¡¯t look to be a player though, just an NPC being trained by an NPC.

    I smiled, the image of a fit William Carver came to mind, one holding up a giant sword in preparation to swing. The Carver in these journals wasn¡¯t the sort of man who did well with concepts like block or parry, but relied on a strange brute strength. Game stats meant lifes limitations wouldn¡¯t prevent a character from making a play style work.

    There had to be some in game benefit to knowing martial arts of some sort too. Sadly that was not me. I danced at best. When in the comfort of my private little program I shook my groove thing like a madman. There I could pretend to be any number of famous figures in their videos. My Thriller imitation was excitingly depressing for a middle aged man with a gut. The moonwalk skill took countless hours to get down, and I could do one in real life too. Dancing just looked terrible on a man with my gut.

    Throwing someone over my shoulder with a twist and shout however was beyond my skills. I try training to be a cage fighter. Oh, a staff was kind of cool. I would be pretty good with a Bo staff. Or a bow and arrow, that would be neat. I could count my kills and make friendly fun of dwarf''s. For now, Old Man Carver was all about the two handed sword.

    I ignored Peg¡¯s worried shouts and stumbled a path to the practice dummy. My exercise would go on for about an hour in game and leave me tired and breathless. After rest and a snack from one of the new players it was time to move forward. That was the plan and that¡¯s how it went.

    After placing the weapon in its home I stumbled to a bench and pulled out the map. Evening was coming on soon and I wanted to see these children Mylia talked about so often. Their home was on the outskirts of town. Carver''s notes said it was an orphanage with about twenty children. Sometimes they were adopted, but that was less likely than the child moving on or getting a job. According to this, Mylia had been there for about six years.

    Odd, I wonder if that was any relation to Carver being in this town for six years? There had to be a way to get information about her, without violating Old Man Carver''s prideful personality.

    ¡°By the Voices William, what nonsense are you up to now?¡±

    ¡°The usual.¡±

    ¡°You always stare at that scroll, like there¡¯s secrets buried in the ink somewhere.¡±

    ¡°There are.¡±

    Peg snorted. ¡°Doubt there¡¯s anything really useful there, all I see are little squiggles for buildings. Any fool new to this town would learn it easy enough, even those narrow minded Travelers you send here.¡±

    ¡°Here,¡± I pointed to an alley. ¡°is an alley known for pickpockets and thieves.¡± Next there was a location just outside of town, north along the water¡¯s edge.

    ¡°Here is a cave that is good for meditation if any one''s willing to sit inside it overnight.¡±

    ¡°Here¡¯s where Henry lives, and he¡¯s always willing to teach Travelers how to make bricks in exchange for labor.¡± Finally I pointed to the south, near the main road out of town. Henry sat along edge of town waiting for traders and long distance travelers who might need his crafts.

    ¡°There are a lot of secrets in these maps, and I have to remember where they are to help out the new Travelers.¡± After much testing, I found out that certain NPCs could be spoken to easier than others. Our balance of give and take must have met Carver''s needs.

    ¡°Mh. I guess you¡¯re right about that. Pretty sharp for an old man! I hope I remember things half as well as you do when I get that old!¡± She slapped me on the back with an overly excited grin. I watched my health bar drop and groaned in extra pain.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Failure to dodge noted.

    Total health loss: 13%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Oh. Sorry Will! Are you alright?¡±

    I just grunted and tried to shake it off. William Carver showed no woman any weakness! According to his journals the only weakness he showed was while flirting his way into someones bed. There was a count on his table back at the cottage where I tried to see how many lady friends he racked up over the decades. Once it got past two dozen I parked him back inside the bath and the auto pilot program took another wash.

    With a shudder I managed to right myself and stand up.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be okay Peg. This isn¡¯t the first time a pretty woman has hit me.¡± She just laughed like I had said the funniest thing on earth. I had no interest in being like William Carver with my time here. Being with a woman other than my fianc¨¦e just didn¡¯t interest me.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll clean up here. A little bird tells me you¡¯ll be recounting some tales for the young ones tonight, any truth to that?¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Mylia had reminded me.¡±

    ¡°Slipping your mind eh? Need a woman to remind you?¡± Peg was bustling about checking her weapons and making sure they were all in shape. She kept a conversational distance for William carver''s hard hearing.

    ¡°Mylia¡¯s just looking out for the kids.¡±

    ¡°Sure she is.¡±

    I grunted.

    ¡°That¡¯s our hero for you! Even in his dotage he¡¯s trying to add another notch to the bedpost!¡± She started laughing even harder.

    I sighed, grumbled, groaned, and made my old man escape away from a madly laughing Peg. Nothing about my Mylia concluded with Carver caring one whit about getting into her underpants. Or whatever people wore in a medieval setting. I doubted it was a G-String or something made of lace. Not with the vaguely emaciated look to her and the children¡¯s faces.

    Maybe I should bring food too.

    Carver, the soft weird cookie personality, had often done little things to help out villagers. The entire thing went against how I acted with new players. Carver in the journal seemed strangely different than Carver in real life.

    Baked goods would do. I promised to pick up some for the [Messenger''s Pet] on the way home. Hopefully I could grab something light to take with me to the orphanage as well. Provided the little dragon wouldn¡¯t show up and eat everything on the way.

    Cookies would be perfect.

    ¡°Cookies.¡± I was nearly drooling while walking.

    With that glorious thought in mind I marched onward. Breaks were taken as needed. People passing by waved and I returned their greetings. My current location was reviewed constantly against Carver''s map. The machine was kind enough to put a floating ''you are here'' dot.

    Turned out the city name was scrawled across the top of each map, which is where I found it one night. [Haven Valley] was nearly idealistic compared to the NPCs rumors of other cities. Guards talked a lot about everything. Players would mention a need to gain skills, ask me for directions to one faction¡¯s headquarters, or the other.

    At least their colors weren¡¯t red and blue. That would be outright cliche. Instead one faction green with some laurels. They claimed relations to tree people and had ties in a huge valley over the southern mountains. Their kingdom was called [Telliari].

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.Uneasy alliances kept [Telliari] away from the north side of [Haven Valley]. Up there was a of city states called [The Altheme Providences]. On either side of our starting city were more smaller regions. Plus entire swaths of wilderness and trade routes that went cross continent.

    I filed the information away in a notebook kept on my ARC. Keeping a journal I could access outside the game or while traveling around at work seemed like a good choice. Plus William Carver¡¯s notes and belongings were not mine forever.

    Creating a separate journal was actually Beth¡¯s idea, not mine. I was still keeping most of my actions under wraps, but she pestered me constantly. Guess Uncle Grant couldn¡¯t escape from her boundless enthusiasm for much longer.

    The bakery had a walk in stall set up. That was very neat. Old Man Carver did not like doors at all.

    ¡°Mister C!¡±

    Great. Pie Master, who acted more like a young hip hop rapper gone pastry, was manning the stall. I did what any old grumpy man who felt a need to be nosy into new players lives might do. Ignored the stupid name and went on with my day.

    ¡°I need cookies.¡±

    ¡°Cookies? I don¡¯t think we do cookies up in here.¡± Pie Master actually looked appropriate in the chef''s apron.

    ¡°Ladette, do we do cookies?¡±

    ¡°No, what¡¯s a cookie?¡± A voice yelled from the back side of the stall. Making out the females face was difficult with Carver''s vision.

    ¡°You¡¯re killing me! You don¡¯t know what cookies are?¡± Pie Master stopped his cleaning and started towards the buildings rear.

    ¡°No, explain it to me!¡±

    I watched a pop up box form in front of the player. He didn¡¯t know I could see them, or he might have disguised his glee. There was a look of extreme amusement on his face and a hint of greed.

    ¡°Wait¡­¡± He paused and squinted at me. ¡°How do you know about cookies?¡±

    I fluttered around a bit inside my head. Luckily Carver''s exterior didn¡¯t betray one ounce of the panic I had been stricken with.

    ¡°One of you Traveler types talked to me about them. I wanted to bring something to the kids before I go visit.¡± My progress bar took a hit for providing an answer without compensation.

    ¡°Oh! Yeah I guess that makes sense. How many do you need?¡±

    My eyes drifted downwards while trying to figure out how many items a squad of children might eat. Too many if left alone.

    ¡°A few dozen.¡±

    ¡°Tell you what, I¡¯ll see what we can do, maybe thirty minutes? That sound good?¡± I chewed a lip and tried to remember how much time there was until sundown. Thirty minutes shouldn¡¯t be too bad.

    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll need some cupcakes too.¡±

    Pie Master shook his head. ¡°This place. They got cupcakes, but no cookies. It¡¯s criminal.¡± He placed a few of the small baked goods onto the counter and waited for me to pull out some change. My stiff fingers managed the action slowly.

    ¡°I wonder if they do patents.¡±

    Ignoring Pie Master''s money grasping muttering was difficult. Eventually I broke away and made it to a bench. One of the two cupcakes went slowly into my mouth, a squished bit at a time. The other one I sat next to me, where the [Messenger''s Pet] would likely show up in moments. He normally got a treat on the way home. How the tiny creature kept finding me was beyond my understanding.

    Sure enough, moments later he was chewing away. A dead Coo-Coo Rill had been deposited nearby and a huffing human male was running up behind the small dragon.

    ¡°How. What.¡± More exaggerated panting. His stamina bar was probably completely run out. ¡°So fast. He¡¯s so fast.¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± I muttered around the last crumbs of my cupcake.

    The [Messenger''s Pet] was nearly purring in his kind of squeaky tone. I had seen depictions of tiny creatures like him before on the cover of old fantasy books, though his legs were a bit more lion like.

    ¡°How. Did you. Train. Him.¡± More out of breath huffing issued forth. I was quickly losing my cupcake happiness.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Is he. A pet?¡± Awesome Jr fell to the ground and kept right on panting.

    ¡°Sort of.¡± I had no such problems. Maybe a small ache in my shoulder.

    ¡°This game. Is awesome.¡±

    ¡°No. Awesome is your father.¡±

    ¡°Hah. Ha ha.¡± He actually was laughing. Not just a fake amusement or something placating, but real mirth. Okay. I was proud of my lame joke as well, but Old Man Carver wouldn¡¯t let anyone know! Especially not some wet behind the ears newbie.

    ¡°How did your mission go?¡±

    ¡°Terrible. I got so lost. There¡¯s too many houses. Rows and rows of house. They all look different too!¡± Awesome Jr finally had enough strength back to sit up. Both arms wrapped around his knees.

    ¡°Ah. Learning a new world takes time. Did the map help?¡±

    ¡°A little. I found some of the people you marked and asked them how the other Travelers were doing. They gave me notes.¡± Awesome Jr. fished out a pile of papers from one pocket and shoved them in my direction.

    The [Messenger''s Pet] hissed when Awesome Jr. got too close, which was awesome. I chuckled and gave the tiny guy a stroke, which set him to purring again. He calmed down and dove into the remains of his cupcake.

    ¡°Wait until you try cookies.¡± I whispered quietly. I saw one ear perk forward almost like a cat''s before it settled back down.

    ¡°That¡¯s so¡­¡±

    ¡°Awesome.¡± I nodded and cut off the new player.

    ¡°What¡¯s its name?¡±

    ¡°His name, and I don¡¯t know. Would you like to try and find a name for him?¡± I watched the box bleep into existence in front of Awesome Jr. He laughed like a child and shook his head.

    ¡°My naming sense is a little bit lacking. So, no better not.¡± His finger jabbed at the floating system message. Quest offered and firmly rejected.

    ¡°Oh well. So far the little guy hasn¡¯t liked any name given to him, so, it¡¯ll just have to wait.¡± I said.

    ¡°That¡¯s an interesting quest.¡±

    Queue the old man half smile that seemed more tired than amused.

    ¡°This place is full of interesting things. How did you like the tour?¡± Carver cared about what happened to players. He treated players the way they treated him. My points were slowly changing for the better today.

    ¡°I saw a lot of places. A lot of people were super friendly when I said I was doing an errand for you. One lady, she said call her Peg, she was confused and said you could have just asked her yourself.¡±

    I smiled. My training with Peg had been an hour ago. Carver''s pace was very slow compared to most other people, even after the pleasant workout. Awesome Jr. must have run into her most recently. Then the little [Messenger''s Pet] had somehow sensed cupcakes and flown this way.

    ¡°Probably.¡± I admitted.

    There was no telling how the wide hipped angry woman was fairing now. Her name eluded me, along with many of the other new players. Maybe I should start noting them down in my ARC¡¯s journal too. Just so I had something to refer back to. This would let me build a list of people to avoid given a choice. At this rate they would all be out having their first adventures while I was stuck in a starting town.

    ¡°Decided on what to do with yourself?¡±

    ¡°I thought about going back to Peg.¡± Awesome Jr. waved a tired arm around and boxes shifted about his screen. He was looking for something in his wall of information.

    ¡°She¡¯d make a man out of you.¡± With more than one meaning if he did well enough on the training side. Her background description had been rather blunt in possible outcomes. But hey, who was I to argue? This game did require all Travelers to be of legal age. Bet he would be absolutely hooked on playing afterwards.

    Thankfully I didn¡¯t look for that sort of thing. The brothel area was eye catching however.

    ¡°Would she?¡± Then he shook his head and had the decency to look mildly red faced. ¡°No, I need to learn a weapon. Not sure what though.¡±

    ¡°Partial to a two handed myself.¡± Points! Precious ques progression points were worth throwing nonsense out there. ¡°Though, don¡¯t assume you¡¯re locked in. The world''s large, you may change your style later on.¡±

    ¡°Oh? That¡¯s good. I was worried that I¡¯d be forced to choose a class or something.¡± He waved all the windows away and laid back completely.

    ¡°No. Your world has classes. We¡¯re a bit more realistic, and Travelers are fortunate. You have many options available if you can find them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re for right?¡±

    I smirked.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to get Travelers started, that¡¯s all. Where you choose to start is up to you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too much!¡±

    ¡°You read any books in your world?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure, a lot. My ARC has a ton of books, and the Internet, my dad¡¯s library is huge. He¡¯s been collecting since I was little.¡± Awesome Jr. rambled on for too long. I took out another acorn for the [Messenger''s Pet] and threw it. The little guy looked uninterested after his cupcake conquest.

    ¡°Do some research on the paradox of choice, and paralysis of analysis.¡± According to one of Carver''s many information pop up boxes this was a good strategy for the younger far too clever people.

    ¡°What? Why would you know concepts from our world.¡± Awesome Jr. looked surprised. Or I assumed it was surprise, his face was almost as fuzzy as everything else. One day I would see this world without feeling underwater.

    ¡°I¡¯ve talked to a lot of people over the years, a lot of Travelers who had no idea what they wanted or how to get it. It might help you to sit down and think about it.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Okay. I¡¯ll go do that now, I have homework anyway.¡±

    I nodded. Moments later Awesome Jr. vanished in a swoosh of light. Eventually I discovered autopilot wasn¡¯t available to most new players. Awesome Jr. couldn¡¯t just leave his game avatar doing some random project.

    Another acorn failed to garner a reaction. I threw the fifth one right at the [Messenger''s Pet] and all it did was grump and dive into Carver''s hood. I hummed while debating how much time there was left tonight.

    Curse this blurry vision. Decent eyesight would allow me to see into the baker''s building to see how things were going. Was that Pie Master jumping up and down while waving. I squinted and grumbled to myself while balancing myself on the cane. This body''s hearing was extremely bad unless someone was right next to me.

    ¡°Hey! Mister C! I made cookies!¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°Cookies! I showed Ladette how to make them. My skills not high enough, but she¡¯s a pro. Want to try one?¡± Pie Master was running over with a metal sheet. Carver''s eyes and ears may be second rate, but his nose was working well enough to pick up that scent.

    ¡°Raisins?¡±

    ¡°No. They¡¯re called Almanuts. Wait. You know what Raisins are?¡± I tried not to let my old body cringe at giving away non local knowledge. Sure enough the few points I gained with Awesome Jr. were already gone.

    ¡°That was what the other Traveler told me about.¡±

    ¡°Well you¡¯re in luck! These are pretty good. Just a hint of sweetness to go with the fresh gooey insides, the outside is so crisp it¡¯ll melt in your mouth.¡± He looked surprised at a popup box near his face. Looks like his words had garnered skill bonuses of some sort. From this angle the box was impossible to see clearly. It was likely a skill for convincing people to try his wears.

    I tried one and almost died in happiness. Real world consumables had been off my personal plate for a long time. Most income went to supporting family in a steadily downhill job market.

    ¡°This is forking delicious.¡± Those weren¡¯t my exact words, but the cookie made it hard to enunciate. Even grumpy Old Man Carver would give credit where it was due.

    ¡°I know! I wanted a few myself, but I¡¯m trying to teach them proper sanitation for the food. It¡¯s not terrible back there, but it¡¯s ain''t exactly four star.¡±

    I tried to give my best confused look and just shrugged. Another cookie went into my plate, and part of one went to the now curious [Messenger''s Pet].

    ¡°Hey, should he eat those?¡±

    I shrugged.

    ¡°I know dogs get sick from chocolate, he¡¯s not like, a dog, or allergic, is he?¡±

    ¡°Not so far.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I would never want to hurt such a cutie.¡± Pie Master was busy making gooey eyes at the tiny dragon. ¡°Whose a cute little guy.¡± And true to form, the [Messenger''s Pet] was in love with anyone who provided food.

    ¡°How many can you make?¡±

    ¡°For you? I¡¯m sure we can whip together another few batches quick, I¡¯ll even work in a discount.¡±

    ¡°Just a discount?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll ask Ladette.¡± Pie Master found almost everything outrageously amusing. ¡°It¡¯s her store.¡±

    ¡°You do that.¡± My fingers waved him off while munching a cookie.

    The [Messenger''s Pet] was busy searching for crumbs. Nothing lined the path between here and the bakery. He settled for diving onto Carver''s robe and licking around. At that moment, I really did feel like an old man with an overactive lap puppy. One with wings, and fire ball breath. Typically old people pets also failed to follow orders. That was the problem! It wasn¡¯t me being unable to give orders, no, it was me being an old man! The [Messenger''s Pet] would rue the day once I had my real in game avatar.

    That pleasant thought kept me going through the cookie purchase. Ladette had gouged me out of far too much of Carver''s money, even with a ¡®discount¡¯. She claimed exclusive access to new goods. What little I could read of Pie Master¡¯s window implied kickbacks similar to what I received for my Casino idea.

    I left the player and baker clicking their heels and shouting about a new product. They would be at it until the sun went down. Knowing player mentality, Pie Master would keep on baking through the night. All in the name of skill ups and other stat bonuses. Voices, cookies in the morning sounded good too. It was all digital, what would William Carver care? None! The proof was in my progress bar¡¯s lack of excitement over the exchange.

    Of course, here I was two weeks into Carvers life and I still hadn¡¯t figured out where all his money came from. Nothing he owned popped into existence like it did for other players. My vague assumption had been that Carver had turned into an NPC somewhere along the line.

    Such thoughts kept me distracted during the amble to Mylia¡¯s orphanage. Which, according to the map, was actually called [Haven Valley]¡¯s orphanage. Not Mylia¡¯s. There were a few notes about the kids in Carver¡¯s map notes but the journals had been mostly useless regarding this town. What exactly did exactly did William Carver tell to these little children?

    The children had a crazy scouting system that announced my presence before I limped to the actual building. By that time Mylia had already opened the door, and one of the larger children had run off with the bag in my hands. My little [Messenger''s Pet] was poking out of the hood and looking around in confusion. One ear cocked forward with each new shout and shriek sent him dodging and rolling around in my hood.

    Then he would poke back out again and look around.

    ¡°You made it Mister Carver.¡±

    ¡°I did.¡± The cane helped me huff a few more steps through the doorway into a room filled with a dozen already excited children.

    ¡°The kids have been looking forward to this all day.¡±

    ¡°Which one ran off with my bag?¡± Hopefully one of the orphans hadn¡¯t already stolen all the semi fresh cookies.

    ¡°Probably Phil, he¡¯s always snooping and finding strange things.¡± She sighed and pulled out a rag from her apron in order to clean up some child¡¯s messy face. ¡°I swear, that boy comes back with the oddest things.¡±

    ¡°Not stealing is he?¡± That abrupt statement lost me one of my precious Carver Process points. I should have asked myself ¡®What Would Carver Do?¡¯.

    ¡°I don¡¯t ask.¡±

    I snorted. That was as good as admitting Phil¡¯s past times. He was probably an aspiring pickpocket. Though I hadn¡¯t seen notes regarding this come up on Carver¡¯s old maps. The local thief types were scattered across the town. Confusion racked my addled brain. One town was crisscrossed with an absurd amount of personalities.

    ¡°Come on in Mister Carver. I¡¯ll have the boys clear the nice seat so you can rest your old bones.¡± Mylia stepped into another room and motioned me forward with a free hand.

    ¡°Thanks Mylia.¡±

    This orphanage was the most run down place I had seen. The building wasn¡¯t well kept like most of the businesses and houses. Paint peeled, one window was clearly shattered from a rock, and the furniture inside wasn¡¯t that great.

    ¡°Phil! Bring whatever you borrowed from Mister Carver back out here!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s for everyone.¡± I muttered while shuffling through to where Mylia pointed absently.

    ¡°Hear that Phil!¡± Mylia was being louder than ever, but she was trying to over power a room of children. The linens looked decent and that was positive. Mylia probably kept the place washed judging by how often she went back and forth with armloads of laundry.

    ¡°Phil!¡±

    Soon enough Phil showed himself. This was the same little scamp I had seen running after Mylia all over town. He still looked worn and tired. His eyes reflected a sunken exhaustion. Probably from running the streets all night in order to find valuables. Food perhaps? He was shoveling a cookie into his face, looking pleased.

    ¡°Share those.¡± I waved the cane at the youngster and earned a few points towards progress. Phil got wide eyed and tried to smile around a mouth of goodness.

    ¡°Guys!¡± Phil shouted and spilled crumbs.

    ¡°They got a bedtime?¡±

    ¡°Curfew, but a bedtime? For this many kids?¡± Mylia laughed briefly, then scowled and whipped one of the little ones with her towel. The girl was trying to grab a handful of cookies instead of sharing.

    ¡°I¡¯m lucky if I can get them to be quiet and let me sleep.¡±

    ¡°Kids.¡±

    ¡°The older ones help, but it¡¯s never enough. Shawna! Round up the rest of the littles! Mister Carver¡¯s here!¡± Orphanage Mylia was different than about the town Mylia. Walking through town she seemed to have all the time in the world. Yet here, she was pressed and constantly moving from room to room.

    ¡°Wa are yoo gonna tell us Uncle Carver?¡± I had to blink twice and rerun the tiny girl¡¯s voice through my mental filters again. She was extremely young, three or four if that. Emotionally that put me on edge.

    ¡°Help an old man remember, what did I tell you last time?¡±

    ¡°You did the beast one!¡±

    ¡°And the girl, with talking cabinets and teacups!¡± That sounded like a familiar story.

    ¡°What else?¡± I prompted other children, they were gathering around, jostling for a seat. Older kids were busy dragging in more furniture to sit on.

    ¡°There was the furry monster in the closest, you told us that one last time too! Can you do that one again?¡± This also sounded familiar.

    ¡°Maybe. I should really do something new though. What else?¡±

    ¡°You told us about the princess and a frog.¡± An older girl said. She sounded about eight but looked five. Okay, pattern established. Carver was telling stories from our world. That was cute and almost adorably clever. Walt would be proud to know his legacy reached into another universe.

    ¡°How about Goldilocks and the Three Bears?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Uh uh.¡± The younger girl said. She was being pushed by another tiny child who was grasping at her half eaten cookie.

    ¡°I can do that one, but it¡¯s a short story, and I owe you a bit to make up for my absence.¡±

    ¡°Thumbelina!¡± I smiled and tried let my ignorance show through. Vaguely I remember the story had to do with a tiny girl raised by her parents who were normal sized.

    ¡°Sounds like that¡¯s not a new one.¡± Oh, I got a point towards my progress for suggesting we do something unknown to the orphans.

    ¡°Some of the younger kids might not have heard it.¡± An older boy who was maybe twelve helped out the conversation. ¡°Or the one with a princess and those fairy godmothers.¡±

    I ran everything through my brain. Children stories weren¡¯t high on my list of things to remember. There were animal ones, princesses, tons from all over the board. Cinderella had been redone at least a dozen times.

    I added the Princess and the Pea to story time, and unleashed my best confused old man who rambled a little upon the orphan''s children. They laughed and smiled, asked questions and were in general extremely silly children. It was a blast, and judging by my progress bar, Carver thought so as well. Finally the night wrapped up, Mylia ushered children off to rooms and set the older ones about final chores. They were quiet aside from scrubbing of dishes and what sounded like firewood being chopped.

    ¡°Well behaved.¡± I sat alone in a room that had once housed two dozen young faces. Mylia sounded exasperated constantly with them, but she did a good job.

    ¡°Only because you were here. They¡¯re always behaved for a few days afterwards.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like I should visit more.¡± I was feeling extremely worn out. There was too much energy in the children for me to keep up. Somehow, before I started my stories, the young three year old had ended up on one knee.

    ¡°No one here would be opposed.¡± Mylia said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll visit more then, for as long I have left.¡± William Carver might not last past the two weeks I was playing the NPC. Not if the Voices were anything to judge by.

    ¡°What do you mean by that Mister Carver?¡± She looked worried.

    My eyes were getting harder to keep open by this point. The kids had been entirely too adorable, even the older ones seemed pleasant. Thin, underfed, but they were all around good kids. Maud would be proud to see those abandoned being taken care of.

    ¡°Mister Carver? Is it true then? What the [Messenger''s Pet] means?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± I was losing myself. Old Man Carver''s stamina bar had dwindled to nothing and a warning about exhaustion and pending passing out.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Mylia looked confused. Behind my head the small creature had popped out. I had enough time to see a scroll in its maw. My halfhearted check for drool verified the parchment was unsoiled.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± She asked again.

    I shrugged and faded in and out. She was reading something. A poem?

    ¡°Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both.¡± That sounded familiar. I remembered those words and mouthed the next part, being half functional.

    ¡°And be on traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could, to where it bent in the undergrowth.¡± Poor Carver, his body could barely get a few words out before needing to swallow from a dry throat.

    ¡°What is this?¡± She seemed ever more confused.

    ¡°Life. Keep reading Mylia. You¡¯ll like it.¡± We weren¡¯t speaking in English, but from what I heard the poem translated fine. Faust wrote it, and they were good words for a sad moment. Her voice was pleasant. How long had it been since a woman spoke these words? Last time it had been my fianc¨¦e and she had read this very poem just before leaving. Sleepily I scowled. Continue was screwing with me again.

    ¡°To where it bent in the undergrowth. Then took the other, as just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim, because it was grassy and wanted wear. Though as for that the passing there had worn them really about the same.¡± Mylia was in wonder, confused, and seemed slightly pleased. There were pauses where she would read the poem and restart. I could hear the patter of children moving around in the background listening in on the words.

    My [Messenger''s Pet] friend huffed and searched around the room for cookie crumbs. After running out of scraps he crawled into Carver''s lap to sleep. I wanted to throttle him but settled for a stiff pat.

    ¡°And both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.¡±

    She paused.

    ¡°What does this mean?¡±

    ¡°Keep reading.¡± I grumbled.

    ¡°I shall be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence. Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.¡±

    ¡°What do you think it¡¯s about Mylia?¡± Carver never gave away too much information, not even to Mylia.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s about choices and where they lead.¡±

    ¡°What choices have you made Mister Carver?¡± Mylia leaned in closer. The blue wrap around her head swam into view.

    ¡°Many Mylia, so many, good and bad¡­I¡¯ve made¡­¡± Then blackness overcame my senses. My display still existed. A gold lettered message floated up saying ¡®you are unconscious¡¯.

    What was going on now? This felt like being back in the trial room before everything had been revealed. I normally logged out just before William Carver passed out each night. That was good, because I needed a breather.

    What had I been about to tell Mylia? My life mistakes and where those put me? Or Carver''s? The line between me and the other former player had slowly vanished the longer I lived in his shoes. That poem hadn¡¯t helped. Where had the [Messenger''s Pet] dug that up?

    ¡°Grant Legate.¡± A voice that I hadn¡¯t heard in nearly two weeks echoed across my mind. Deep resounding tones combined with that inquisitive lilt painted a clear picture of who was speaking.

    ¡°James?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Grant Legate. How are you feeling?¡± Seeing James was impossible with my vision being dimmed. The taunting word ¡®unconscious¡¯ had slowly become my only focus.

    ¡°Tired.¡± I wiped at one cheek absently finding a small pool of drool. ¡°Very tired. Is it okay if I don¡¯t come back for a few days? I need, need to not be here for a while.¡±

    ¡°Time is a factor Grant Legate, but I believe there is a little leeway.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± James asked.

    I thought of the kids, and of roads not traveled, before nodding weakly. Shortly afterwards I logged myself out of the game.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Eleven - Outside the Digital Box

    <cite></cite>¡°Liz?¡± Come on, for once don¡¯t sound like a wounded puppy. Please let these words come across like a sane and stable person. Focus on a happy place. Try not to wonder what my unborn child would look like. Their mother''s eyes perhaps?

    Breathe.

    ¡°What¡¯s up little brother?¡± Liz had the decency not to notice my plight.

    ¡°Is tonight a good night?¡±

    ¡°Ummmm¡­..it can be. Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I just need family for a meal. I won¡¯t impose for more than dinner.¡± Liz had set up an open house ruling after I moved out. One of the counselors suggested on having a safe place.

    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll go kick Beth out of the machine and scrape something together.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll be over in a few hours. I need to check in first.¡± Time to take another breath and focus on the mental exercises I had learned this last year and change.

    ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay?¡± Finally some worry wound around her tone. The slight tilt of her head on the video screen was all the hint I needed. She was my twin, her mannerisms were my own. Hiding my state of mind from her had always been impossible.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be okay. I just had some, painful reminders recently.¡±

    ¡°Alright. You make it over when you can, Grant.¡±

    The connection closed down and Liz¡¯s worried face faded. I moved my gaze from the watch phone amalgamation to my ARC. Inside the Atrium was a nearly serene bedroom. Provided no one noticed the tiny [Messenger''s Pet] fighting with a tube from my hot tub program. Hissing and water shooting around that was just beyond me right now. One day I would finally figure out a name for the creature. Assuming he hung out past the next two game weeks of this William Carver experience.

    I am Grant Legate. I am not William Carver.

    Maybe it was good to step out of the game for a bit anyway. This other world persona, the time compression and rate of existence was killer on my sanity. How did other players handle it? Oh, right, they got to play themselves in the game, not an NPC.

    I should be careful around Beth.

    The van ride over was easy enough. I researched the very same topic I had given Awesome Jr. Information was surprisingly mixed. A few books talked about how people organized their thoughts when making choices. More articles and paper synopses talked about ways to sort a mind out.

    What got to me was the old Aesop¡¯s fable about The Fox and the Cat. According to the story the fox would brag about having hundreds of ways to escape, while the cat could only climb up a tree. When trouble came, the cat escaped, and the fox was caught by the hounds due to being too confused by his possible escapes. Too many choices lead to mental paralysis and failure in applying action. That¡¯s why so many players seemed confused on where to start. They were plopped as adults into an alternate reality. From there the Traveler''s Guide, Old Man Carver in this case, came into play. Yet my job wasn¡¯t so simple. I couldn¡¯t just treat each and every single player the same.

    Welcome to Continue, here¡¯s a quest to fetch apples! Congratulations new player, this is the farm! We have a varmint problem! Stop those rats! Collect those candles! Do a special move seven times! The player''s reward? A boring pie! Oh, this player got the goblin boss! Way to swing your sword, here, a plus ten weapon of great smiting!

    Personality mattered excessively in Continue. These were real people interacting with nearly real computer generated AIs. The responses I gave as a guide had to be custom tailored.

    My ride to Liz¡¯s was interrupted by a call to my sponsor, just touching base and saying that things were going well. These thoughts about Continue had managed to occupy a pleasant portion of my life which wasn¡¯t good or bad. Merely a distraction as James had promised a distraction.

    My therapist had warned me about seeing all sorts of little things and linking them to past experiences. Exposing myself to new sensations would cause me to remember darker moments. Despite the ease with which depression swam over me I had survived for awhile in game now. Days passed with very few painful reminders and without the need to work myself into mental numbness or the dance program. This was progress.

    ¡°Uncle, you¡¯re saying you¡¯ve been playing for two weeks and haven¡¯t fought a single monster?¡±

    ¡°I gave a target dummy a mean stare and some good whacks. Oh, I ran from some spiders too.¡± Voices damn those spiders. Peg¡¯s constant uses of the imitation swear had been ingrained into my brain.

    ¡°You going to be a warrior?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I can see me, lovable Uncle Grant, wielding a big old sword and inspiring fear in tiny bunnies!¡± My sister had the nerve to laugh and almost coughed out her food.

    ¡°So pure warrior?¡± Sometimes I worried about my relationship with Beth. She often treated me like an older brother than an Uncle. It might be because of how her mom and I acted, or some other psychological dynamic that was beyond my understanding. Still, she was never one to be shy about her excitement over Continue.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Is that good?¡± Continue did have far too many choices. Maybe Beth would have good ideas.

    ¡°Can we not talk about games while having dinner?¡± Liz was still trying to recover from her amusement.

    ¡°But Uncle Grant¡¯s new to the game, it¡¯s good for him to learn!¡±

    ¡°Uh huh. How are the potatoes?¡±

    ¡°Good Liz, thanks.¡± My smile must have driven Liz crazy. She was becoming more like our mother with every passing day.

    ¡°Anytime.¡± She said.

    ¡°So what class do you want to be?¡± Beth asked around another mouthful of food.

    ¡°I thought there weren¡¯t any classes?¡±

    ¡°Yes and no, there¡¯s play styles that are like classes, but they¡¯re called Paths, and titles kind of do the same thing. Oh! Have you got a copy of the handbook yet?¡±

    ¡°The what book?¡± Books hadn¡¯t had hands for a decade now. Digital systems had transcribed nearly every piece of paper over. I put both hands up in confusion and raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Oh, my, god, really Uncle Grant?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Totally.¡± I managed to get every ounce of playful confusion available into my voice.

    ¡°So no! Hold on!¡± Beth, true to her insanely impulsive nature, had already run off from the table and went to get something out of the house.

    ¡°Get back here!¡± Liz yelled at her daughter. Beth was too lost in her current mission to bother responding. I could hear violent shuffling from the rooms below as my niece searched for something. One eye brow raised in Liz''s direction. She sighed.

    ¡°So when she getting the boot?¡± I asked.

    ¡°After college I¡¯m charging rent! Don¡¯t think grandpa will take you in either!¡± Liz was clanking down silverware and scowling. Finally she huffed and went back to get more food from the kitchen.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t dad play games too?¡± I asked.

    ¡°God. I can¡¯t escape you geeks.¡±

    ¡°So it goes.¡±

    Beth came screaming back into the room like she was being chased.

    ¡°Here, take this! But don¡¯t let anyone know you have a copy unless you trust them.¡± Here I had just ranted about the end of a paper and ink era and my own niece shoved a pile of colored papers into my hands.

    ¡°Aww you trust me. I¡¯m touched.¡± I said.

    ¡°Is that the book for your game?¡± My sister asked. There was half a frown on her lips and a flash of annoyance in her eyes.

    ¡°Yep. All sorts of useful tips and information. Suggestions, general build ideas, a rough world map of what¡¯s been explored. Tons of stuff about the game to study in your spare time.¡± Her daughter responded.

    ¡°Seriously? You¡¯re giving your Uncle something that¡¯s illegal?¡± Liz sounded confused and almost outraged.

    ¡°It¡¯s only illegal in some countries, America hasn¡¯t banned it. Go us!¡±

    A casual flip through showed a lot of random tidbits of information. Skills of all sorts were outlined along with tips about navigating the world. Quest ideas and conversational key words were printed out next to an entire section on dungeon handling. Oh look, tips on party compositions.

    ¡°This is actually kind of useful.¡± Though Carver¡¯s maps in his house were probably way more detailed than anything user made. Especially something handed around like a bootleg from the seventies.

    ¡°It¡¯s the other world''s Bible.¡±

    ¡°I thought this game was meant to be extremely realistic though. Doesn¡¯t all this, what does this say, dungeon crystals, isn¡¯t that unrealistic?¡± There was an entire set of information on how reaching the final level and boss had rewards.

    ¡°It is a game. The realism is how you interact with it, the way the world changes as players do things. Look up the interface bonuses, or the last guild wars event.¡±

    ¡°Mh?¡±

    ¡°Good Lord. I¡¯m going to kick you out if you keep blabbing about that game.¡± Liz said. She was busy assaulting her steak and potatoes with ever increasing force.

    ¡°You should play too, mom!¡±

    ¡°No thanks, I have enough realism living in reality.¡±

    ¡°Say that after you do a back flip off a wall and high kick a man in the face. Bet you¡¯ve never done that.¡±

    My sister actually laughed.

    ¡°Got close, kicked Edward in the balls, you remember that sleaze?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea what you saw in him.¡±

    ¡°Well you know, it wasn¡¯t about his personality, it was about what he had in between his¡­¡±

    I suddenly embedded every ounce of my attention into ruffling pages and reading more information. Oh look, certain key NPCs could be resurrected, but only under specific circumstances. Wide scale battles with the blessing of certain Voices would help them resurrect as well, or in arena tournaments. How neat was that? Some NPCs that seemed impossible to kill were tied to legendary quest lines that were still mostly theorized.

    Politics changed the landscape as players built up towns, invested gold, or completed group events. The guild wars event my niece talked about had completely removed one kingdom from the map and established two towns at the base of a mountain range. According to the aftermath notes the mountains in question were higher level. I cut in between my family¡¯s commentary of their latest boy troubles with a very important question.

    ¡°There aren¡¯t levels are there?¡±

    ¡°For players? Not really. It¡¯s a matter of skills coming together and those build up your stats. That¡¯s in the book. Then those skills combine to a theoretical evaluation of what you can do, called Paths.¡±

    ¡°This guy¡¯s note says he¡¯s a Rank One, Tank Path?¡±

    ¡°Just a basic meat shield. There¡¯s branches into the other classic titles and roles, Paladin, Knight, Sentinel, they¡¯re all about what you¡¯d expect. Damage dealers, and craftsman have their own rankings.¡±

    Liz was busy going back for a second helping while chattering away. My sister was busy miming words to her food while shaking her head back and forth.

    ¡°That¡¯s neat.¡±

    ¡°My best is Rank fifteen, All-Star, of the Caster Path.¡± Beth was excitedly sharing around a mouthful of food. Table manners had never been a big thing to Liz, and clearly her daughter inherited the same mentality.

    ¡°And that is¡­¡±

    ¡°Balanced mage, I completed a few awesome quests, soloed a boss or two and got the All-Star title. I like the flashy effects. Whoosh! Fireball!¡± She pantomimed using both hands to cast something away from her.

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you the pro.¡±

    ¡°Uh huh!¡± My niece flashed a smile and bobbed her head.

    The information in here was intense. More page flipping ensued. It looked like people had donated walls of notes and hand written scribbles. This wasn¡¯t anything like a printed document or online guide. It felt practically grade school.

    ¡°Why do the ranks go up instead of down?¡±

    ¡°Then people would fight for number one, not that they don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Boys.¡± I gave it my imitation of an exasperated teenage girl. My sister had uttered this very tone more than once over the years. In high school she held forth weekly in a rant about her latest crush, then at the end Liz would say ''Boys'' just like I had attempted to do.

    ¡°Nah, highest Warrior Path is actually a girl, I think, she was a few months ago anyway. I met her during Rosemarie¡¯s Siege. That woman held back a dragon that was so big¡­¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Old Man Carver was a [Dragon Slayer] so part of me was professionally interested. A woman playing a tank type character and holding one back was very neat sounding.

    ¡°Yeah. We got the spell caster controlling the dragon while she held it back.¡±

    ¡°All this shop talk is boring me.¡± Liz got up with a clank of dishes and went to their newfangled dish washer. Tehcnology had evolved in twenty years. Now they sorted dishes on their own, rinsed those pesky dirty ones twice, and all around did wonders on crusty cheese. Mother still complained about cleaning.

    ¡°Anyway, Continue is meant to be more about living a life of adventure doing things you can¡¯t do here, not about being the best. There¡¯s too many people in the world to bother for number one. Most people use the rankings to help with group quests.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen quests.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d hope so. Just about anything can be construed as a quest. You¡¯d be a terrible gamer if you hadn¡¯t gotten at least one.¡±

    ¡°Oh the one I¡¯ve got is a doozey.¡± My head shook back and forth slowly as my current mission details came to mind.

    ¡°Can I hear?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± How would anyone sane explain the quest I had been given? Pose as an NPC, guide new players, figure out a mystery connection to a random woman, do one last adventure. Explain that convoluted situation to my niece? Negative! ¡°But maybe you can help me. This quest has a few side goals.¡±

    ¡°Oh, totally worth doing. Unless it¡¯s a trick one.¡±

    ¡°Trick one?¡± I dug through the notes for anything on quest tips. There was a little in there about what skills were useful in certain situations. Social skills and NPC interact mattered as much as the combat skills did. More than one piece of advice said to work on both sides of the coin. Players who spent all their time in the woods training were often terrible at finding out secret routes through quests. Or so the notes said.

    ¡°Yeah. Some quests I guess have optional side routes, but there¡¯s like, layers, or secret resolutions. You ever read a book about this stuff?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so some players have read a lot about virtual reality games. Like, generations ago there were tons of theories on how they¡¯d pan out. Good fiction stuff right?¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Yeah. In these stories the protagonist would get a difficult task. Then make progress only to find out the repercussions are crazy¡­¡± She faded out completely with a blank look on her face.

    ¡°Earth to Beth.¡± I waved a hand in front of her face. Beth looked lost in thought.

    ¡°Okay.¡± The call of earth finally grabbed my nieces attention. ¡°Here¡¯s a real example from the Altheme Providences.¡± Hey, that was vaguely near Old Man Carver''s current location. ¡°A few years ago in game, someone was trying to kill a princess. Only she¡¯s in another castle, and the one players were protecting was a body double.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a bad movie plot.¡± The table we sat at was just big enough for four people. Neither one of us had moved much as Beth chattered away and I asked questions.

    ¡°Most quests are, but high school wasn¡¯t much better.¡±

    ¡°You still passed with good grades!¡±

    ¡°Yes mom!¡± Beth shouted back.

    ¡°Anyway, they protected the double because hey, quest says so. Someone points out she¡¯s not really the princess, yet killers keep coming. Turns out she¡¯s really a half-sister, which is why she can be a body double. Players discovered this, wham, bam, kingdom gets flipped upside down.¡±

    ¡°Still a bad movie plot.¡± I sighed and tried to scan over some more notes. There were some things in here about skills and how they linked together. Apparently any weapon skill murdered with a body building skill qualified the player as a Rank One Warrior Path.

    ¡°It gets worse, and this really happened to one of my friends!¡± She slammed her hands down on the table in excitement.

    ¡°The trials and tribulations we must suffer.¡±

    ¡°In the end, it turned out that the first princess was trying to kill the second princess and remove any conflict when the king passed. She fails, territory splits into two, total civil war.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± The last of my potatoes was finally gone. ¡°It¡¯s still, a bad movie.¡±

    ¡°Anyway, about eight months later in game and a ton of quests, first princess is killed in a big war. For real dead, corpse validated.¡±

    ¡°Ouch.¡± Liz was extra annoyed at our conversation by now and snatched my empty plate away from the table.

    ¡°Yep. Super ouch. All of this was decided by mostly players too, their quests and actions impacted everything for hundreds of miles.¡± Beth eyed her mom and hastily shoveled a few more bites down.

    ¡°That is kind of neat.¡±

    ¡°Yep! And had the players doing this quest failed to protect the second princess, the one who was a body double at first, this kingdom would have stayed just fine.¡± Her words were half a mumble around the latest batch of food.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yep. First princess was actually trying to abolish the kingdom''s slavery. My guild officers think the kingdom would have been better off had those first players just failed.¡±

    ¡°The hidden trick to this one?¡± My eyebrow went back up in question. Beth had started this conversation to explain how quests might have several layers or odd connections.

    ¡°Players could have probably reconciled the two groups into one kingdom and made things idealistic and heavenly. Angels would descend and shed rainbows all over those involved! For glory and fame!¡± She dropped her silverware and waved both hands around.

    ¡°Bet that would have taken some skills.¡±

    ¡°Probably, like a Rank twenty on a negotiator path, or some other people skill. Probably could blackmail them too.¡±

    ¡°Wait are there actually angels in this game?¡± I watched Liz bring over another round of food for her daughter and scrape it onto the teenagers plate.

    ¡°Probably?¡± Beth said. She looked away for a moment then shrugged.

    ¡°How does anyone figure this stuff out?¡± That was like five layers of silly double crossing that anyone would get lost in.

    ¡°Most secret resolutions require an approach way outside the box. If it was something the NPCs skills could handle, then there¡¯s no point.¡± Beth downed half her glass of water and kept right on eating a second helping.

    ¡°Makes sense.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. You just think outside the box, what skill does the NPC have, what do you have. Apply pressure!¡± She ground a thumb into the table with entirely too much glee on her face. ¡°Sometimes you find really cool stuff.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± I paused and set down the stack of papers she had shoved at me. ¡°actually really good advice.¡±

    ¡°Better stop there, she¡¯ll get a big head. Then I¡¯ll never hear the end of it.¡± Liz had been listening, even if she professed dislike at the topic.

    ¡°Next stop, queen of the world!¡± Beth pretended to give a mad cackle at Liz, then slurped down the last of her food before rushing off. ¡°Oh, Uncle Grant!¡± Beth had popped back in and was hanging off the door frame. ¡°My guild''s planning a war in about a month of real time, find me by then okay?¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡± Too late, my niece was already gone, leaving behind a whirlwind of thoughts in my brain.

    Liz and I made idle chit chat for another thirty minutes, but my brain wasn¡¯t really in it. Opening the guide book would be tactless though. My sister deserved a more invested conversation. Eventually we both realized it was going nowhere, and I felt okay again. My brief bout of ¡®what if¡¯ induced melancholy had faded during our game infused conversation. For now, eventually it always came back. This last year had been easier than the one before it. Which was easier than the year before that. Sometimes I lost track of the moment and forgot that she passed nearly three years ago.

    ¡°Mh.¡± Lost in thought I started the farewell procession.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll need to buy flowers.¡± The thought made me clench my eyes for a moment longer than normal. Liz just smiled then shook her head sadly.

    ¡°You going to be okay?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. This game is actually a good distraction.¡± A year in reality, four years in game. Time and distance would help heal all wounds, or so my therapist said. My expression must not have been reassuring enough for Liz.

    ¡°The game looks nice, but don¡¯t forget us here in reality, eh baby brother?¡±

    ¡°By like two minutes.¡± I grumbled.

    ¡°And I¡¯ll never let you forget it.¡± She gave me the same smile I had been subjected to for decades now. The grin was pure mischief but the eyes held a tint of worry at the edges.

    ¡°Thanks Liz.¡±

    ¡°Anytime Grant, be safe.¡± She paused and tried not to look worried. Only Liz and those in my meetings knew how bad it had really been. We hugged briefly and her hands stayed on my shoulders for a moment. ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m okay Liz.¡± I gave a tired smile, the only one that was really available to me when thinking about the past, and waved goodnight. The porch light stayed on until I got into the van and set the Auto NAV for home.

    Family, for me, was the last safety net of a rock bottom life. They were everything. If Liz or Beth ever needed me, I would do anything to repay their kindness. A college fund and ARC for Beth was just the start. Liz was harder to pay back. She had always been the strong one.

    But not me.

    I distracted myself on the ride home by reading through the guide book Beth had printed for me. Continue''s NPCs were real, but the world itself had some strange setting situations. Dungeons were one of them. Did Haven Valley have any? Would making it to a boss constitute a great adventure? I had no other good leads.

    Fine. I had to stop taking this game so seriously and maybe be entertained with trying unexpected things. After all, my life was infinitely less depressing if I only looked forward.. WWCD? The real Carver, not the [Guide] Carver. He would be proactive! He would chase a lead until the adventure was over. Then chase everything that resembled a female. I planned to skip that latter part. Even after all these years, the idea of being with another woman felt wrong.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Twelve - Questions, Mister Legate?

    <cite></cite>William Carver had completed a day without me and was asleep again. According to the monitoring method players could use before logging in, he had made it back to the tiny shack. Logging in shoved my character into darkness of the Ultimate Edition trial room. Hopefully here I could reach one of the Voices, James or Maud preferably.

    ¡°Hello?¡±

    There was a pause.

    ¡°Grant Legate. You¡¯ve returned. How was your time away?¡± James, good, starting with him would be best.

    ¡°Enlightening.¡± I think. ¡°I had some questions, if our deal is still in effect.¡± Asking ¡®is our bargain still on?¡¯ would have been a question.

    ¡°Of course, Grant Legate.¡± Soon I would shed the Voices annoying usage of my first and last name.

    ¡°Is William Carver related to Mylia?¡± No use hiding around the biggest question in my list.

    ¡°No. Why would you suspect that?¡±

    ¡°William seemed to get around a lot.¡±

    ¡°A man after my own heart. But there were protections in place for that sort of thing, at least during his day.¡± There was the Temptress, red skinned, scantily clad, more a lingering promise than anything else. I could feel her eyelashes flutter.

    ¡°Of course now, even with the corrections from Mother, there¡¯s still too many rug rats being rolled out. Kill ¡®em all, let us sort them out!¡± In whirled the Jester. This time it dancing with a brunette who was clad in shimmering crimson liquid. I tried not to put too much thought into it.

    ¡°Lust does that. The ladies say it¡¯s worth the effort.¡± The Temptress was not one to let a simple Jester detract from her presence.

    ¡°Enough, he is my charge.¡± James'' deep voice cut across my brain.

    ¡°But he¡¯s entertaining.¡± Which Voice was that? Not one recognized.

    ¡°And deliciously depressing, his mood swings are more fickle then Selena.¡± That voice was something itchier. Whatever it was felt like mice crawling across my skin.

    The aloft Voice on a pedestal, Selena, didn¡¯t make an appearance. Instead she graced us with a clap of thunder and a rush of raindrops pelting into the dark room.

    ¡°Someone is going to have a bad day out fishing.¡± The Jester''s words, clacking and ever amused, came in.

    James scowled.

    ¡°Mister Grant Legate is just trying to complete the tasks assigned.¡± A tiny set of words came through, which belonged to the younger Voice, a tiny girl who had been sitting in a library corner reading. Even now she hid behind a book as she faded in and out of existence.

    ¡°Then he should ask about those instead.¡± James said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to cheat.¡±

    ¡°Admirable. A true hero paves his own way!¡± The giant beefy man who had a sword from my first experience in Continue popped into existence. He seemed to be fighting some scale ridden monster. He huffed and swung, dodged and stepped in again. The enemy wasn¡¯t completely clear.

    ¡°Is that guy Carver''s Voice?¡± I asked.

    ¡°We all had a hand, but ultimately, Leeroy there, was closest to William Carver.¡±

    ¡°Leeroy?¡±

    ¡°Ask him about his shoulder pads, if you want to be bored to death. His idea of a joke that¡¯s far too old and tired.¡± The Temptress was on her chair again, this time filing her nails while her tail wagged. Then as soon as she was done talking, out she faded.

    ¡°They¡¯re fantastic. Plate chafes like you wouldn¡¯t believe. Cloth armor is the way of the future.¡± Leeroy, or whatever throwback to shirtless sword wielding caveman he might be, seemed upset as he came into being. He manifested just enough to flip off the Temptress.

    ¡°That''s confusing.¡±

    ¡°Remember where you are.¡±

    I nodded. James had explained this earlier, here, in this room, I was like the only fish in the sea. So the Voices were all too present. Eventually, perhaps, I might learn all their names and roles. For giggles I tried to use Identification on James but still came up with an excessive amount of question marks.

    Using it on the space previously occupied by the Temptress gave a completely different feeling. A wave of lust that set my body to attention and a pass of pleasure that nibbled along the neckline. Teasing sensations lingered and swelled. Unceasingly they kept going while driving mental coherency down a few notches.

    A quest popped up, which I needed to regain my senses back before pressing the deny button. That wasn¡¯t the reason I played this game, despite Old Man Carver''s tendencies. Contemplating exactly how far spread the Temptress had been was kind of a buzz kill.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Instant Gratification</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Extremely Easy (But just for you)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    All you need to do is accept. What more details do you need? She promises to be gentle, at least until you beg her not to be.

    Denial: This offer never truly goes away.

    Acceptance: Instantly Gratifying

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I made up my mind. Never again would [Identification] be used on that Temptress. Some things are better left to the imagination and Continue had a very intense feedback. Even the pain from before, when being chased by spiders or acting as Old Man Caver, didn¡¯t compare to her heady rush. Perhaps because feeling good, especially that good, was a better motivator than pain.

    ¡°You¡¯re mumbling.¡± The Jester¡¯s words clacked around me.

    ¡°Uh huh.¡± Plus an undetermined amount of drool was dripping down my face. Being old and single was not healthy in the face of that, that whatever.

    ¡°Grant Legate. Did you have any other questions?¡±

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll need a moment to recover.¡± Yet another Voice popped in. I clenched both eyes shut and refused to use Identification on this one too. She went on to talk about health levels, elevated fancy words, some chemical, and Chakra points. All gobbledygook.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± Words were also hard.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Your turn for a question.¡± I finally said to James. Thinking about baseball was helping. God help me if I logged out of the ARC to find an awkward mess.

    ¡°Are you enjoying yourself, Grant Legate?¡±

    ¡°I think so. Yes.¡±

    ¡°Would you like to do it again?¡±

    ¡°Helping new players, a mystery, and one great adventure. What more could anyone ask for?¡± That actually wasn¡¯t sarcasm, even though it might sound like it to the uninitiated.

    ¡°Many things, but your words are well put.¡± James half turned and almost faded away. Then it seemed like something occurred to the black man.

    ¡°Are you sure? Do you enjoy pretending to be someone else, enough to do it again?¡±

    ¡°Honestly?¡± James nodded to my question. ¡°We¡¯ll see how this one shakes out James. I still haven¡¯t forgiven you for what happened with my dance program.¡±

    ¡°You have twelve days left, make the most of them and I believe we can deliver satisfaction.¡±

    That silly pop up box from the Temptress displayed again. This time it was titled ¡®Instant Satisfaction¡¯. I shuddered and pressed decline again. For a video game, it was insanely interactive but that was the attraction. Then I got a favorable increase myself. An Event titled ¡®Willpower Demonstration¡¯.

    Score one for me! Or, un-score, I guess.

    Thankfully Old Man Carver was waking up, so the world about me faded away and was replaced with my daily life as someone else. I read though an event log for my time offline. Apparently Carver had another meeting with the High Priestess of Selena. There was no change in his alignment according to the text. Not that alignment made a lot of sense to me yet. I had briefly read something about it in my guide book from Beth, but that section hadn¡¯t been super interesting.

    The [Messenger''s Pet] hadn¡¯t shown up for the day I was offline, eight hours out of the game had ended up being twenty four in game. No one took notice. There had been a [Coo-Coo Rill] raid on the front door yesterday that had caused Old Man Carver to fall on those acorn things. As a result I was walking with a limp. This old man hadn¡¯t invested much in the way of self-healing skills or magic. There was a section for bandaging but that only worked on external wounds. My simulated pain was all internal.

    I went about my morning, picked up paper along with an enchanted pen that didn¡¯t require ink, and slowly Carver''d a path to my bench. Carvering things was just another clever series of thoughts that had crossed my mind while sitting on this bench.

    Now though, I would peruse the map for any hint of a dungeon. WWCD? Would Carver sit on his rear all day? No, Carver would stomp right through all the red tape straight towards adventure. Once it became obvious enough to find.

    ¡°There¡¯s got to be something on here.¡± I muttered unintentionally.

    ¡°Whatcha looking at Geezer?¡±

    ¡°None of your business brat.¡± I turned the map upside down again. I looked up and saw Phil. He was munching a cookie he had probably stolen. Behind him were two of the younger kids. They invaded my bench rather violently, jostling around until the three of them had a solid spot to sit. Phil, the oldest, started trying to entice the [Messenger''s Pet] from my hood.

    ¡°Can I have one of those?¡± The middle child seemed able to articulate correctly. The youngest had slurred together most of his words last night.

    ¡°Only if you help me figure something out.¡± Even these annoyingly cute tykes couldn¡¯t escape from Old Man Carver''s demands.

    ¡°Whatcha figuring out?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    The youngest giggled.

    ¡°Where an old man would have to go to have an adventure.¡±

    ¡°Them Dames on Haggle''s Corner ain¡¯t good enough?¡± Looks like Phil was kind of foul minded. I gave him a halfhearted scowl but kept both eyes on the map in front of me, scanning over all the sections.

    ¡°A different sort. I¡¯m looking for one last adventure.¡±

    ¡°An adventure? Like in your stories?¡±

    ¡°Like those, yes.¡±

    ¡°Those adventures are dangerous!¡± Phil shouted loud enough to draw random stares from those nearby.

    ¡°Is Grandpa gonna die?¡± The youngest, a little girl, slurred her words together. I felt disturbed that a child who might be only three understood the concept of death enough to be worried.

    It shook me. Parents had to answer this question, had Carver ever been a father? He certainly had been around enough blocks. He clearly adored the children or he would never have started telling them stories. That was an established pattern of his long before I came alone.

    ¡°Eventually.¡± If she was old enough to ask then Carver wouldn¡¯t lie. Sure enough, there was the percentage increase to prove my actions were right.

    ¡°Are you gonna die soon?¡± That sad tone broke me away from my study and I turned a aching neck sideways to look at the youngest. She had half crawled over the middle child and was giving me an adorable pouting face.

    ¡°Only the Voices know for sure.¡± I patted her head.

    After all, those Voices may choose to keep the NPC version of Carver running for however long they desired. My time however, expired soon. I had better not get this body killed or else these annoyingly cute children might become depressed. I knew how that felt.

    ¡°Why do you need an adventure geezer?¡±

    ¡°Part of an old man¡¯s last gasp.¡± Clever Carver! Well, me anyway. Throwing in the quest name there had been irresistible.

    ¡°What¡¯s a gasp?¡± The youngest tried to say.

    ¡°A sudden breath of air.¡± I gasped playfully but kept looking forward. Nowhere on this map could I find any sort of dungeon. There goes my clever idea of heroically leading a cadre of new players down to the depths and defeating some obscure boss. Shame, it had been pretty good all things considered.

    ¡°You can¡¯t die Grandpa Carver.¡± The middle boy said. He was still concerned. ¡°Who¡¯d help out the new Travelers?¡±

    I thought about it for a moment then went with my WWCD instincts.

    ¡°These are big shoes to fill. Would you like to try?¡± I gave him my best adult glare. One that looked at the smaller boy with my face tilted in challenge.

    ¡°Sure!¡±

    ¡°How come you asked him?¡± Phil had completely forgotten about asking me why I needed an adventure.

    ¡°Yoo can¡¯t die Grandpa.¡±

    I gave the youngest my best old man dismissive grunt. What other options were there? Shatter her little world and send the tyke home crying?

    ¡°Bah. I need a dungeon.¡± I said after a few awkward seconds of pretending the youngest hadn¡¯t been heard. Hopefully we would move past this entire subject.

    ¡°That¡¯s where Travelers go to stop the bad monsters and get rich.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s Locals that go too.¡±

    ¡°Locals eh?¡±

    ¡°Like us, you, all Travelers types. Come on geezer, your memory going too?¡± Phil said with a grin. He was busy eyeing other people over the back of my bench. NPCs were called Locals, to Locals. How had I missed that tidbit of information over the last two weeks? Clearly this map and the new players had occupied too much of my time.

    Bad hearing coupled with fuzzy vision. Distraction by a dozen random players and personalities, the standard problems. All excuses.

    ¡°You kids going to help, or just insult me?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s an insult?¡± The little girl asked.

    ¡°Ask Mylia.¡±

    ¡°Auntie Mylia knows what an insult is?¡± She practically drooled the words out. It was enough to make me smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she does.¡±

    ¡°Come on Phil, we¡¯ve got to go.¡± The middle boy was awkwardly pulling away the tiny girl and already partway down the road. Mylia, in the distance, was beckoning to the kids.

    ¡°Some help.¡± I muttered.

    ¡°You¡¯re an old geezer, you¡¯d die in a dungeon!¡± Phil shouted while running after the other orphans. His tone was full of abrupt rudeness only children can pull off and still seem friendly.

    ¡°Hey! I killed a dragon!¡±

    Mylia must have heard my shout because she blanched for a moment. I raised a quizzical eyebrow in her direction. The orphanage caretaker carefully schooled her face and then guided the other children away.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Secondary Goal [Progress Event]: Mylia seems upset from your shouts earlier. Information regarding Old Man Carver''s past as a [Dragon Slayer] may be key to learning about her. Use this knowledge to figure out what links these two people together.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Huh.¡±

    Why had shouting about being a [Dragon Slayer] bothered Mylia? The popup box had been pretty clear on the results. In fact this was the first thing to push my progress bar past the seventy five percent marker. Oh. More stuff came up

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Reward: Reaching above 75% completion grants additional to William Carver''s skills. Over the course of his life he has gained a large number of abilities and secret bits of knowledge.

    Unlocked!

    William (Old Man) Carver''s rank four skills are all displayed and can be actively used.

    Unlocked!

    William (Old Man) Carver''s map now includes details about the area surrounding [Haven Valley]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A map upgrade?

    Had screaming across the distance really been worth crossing my previous road block? Better yet, was there a dungeon to crawl into and have some giant adventure? My niece had been right about one thing at least; not having fought anything in a game for almost two weeks now was a little bit odd.

    WWCD? Swing a giant blade in the direction of the nearest legendary monster. Find a willing body attached to a set of legs. All the standard sexist stuff. Men like Carver had practically built the male stereotype from a hundred years ago. There was a certain attraction to the smash monsters and get laid mentality though.

    I looked at the enlarged map and tried to see if anything stood out. Now it went to a square area maybe ten miles on a side. The items identified seemed fairly standard. More places to learn objects and things. A local bandit scouting base was on the outer edge. There, players who were in trouble with the law could hide or choose to the burn the place down as a lawman.

    No dungeons, nothing thrilling or heroic. I could wander into every dark alley in the town and still it wouldn¡¯t be enough. Walking to that bandit outpost would take me days and cost me an unknown amount of progress. Nothing was intense enough to compare to the Dragon slaying. Maybe that¡¯s the problem, I was trying to find something to top William Carver''s past experiences.

    ¡°You¡¯re Old Man Carver?¡± A voice asked, signaling the start of my day. Solving the problem myself was getting nowhere so it was time to bend all the manpower available from new players.

    ¡°Before I help you, you have to do something for me.¡±

    ¡°Alright. That was quick.¡±

    ¡°Take this to the town square, post it on the notice board and get as many as you can to read it.¡±

    ¡°How do I get there?¡±

    I pointed to the tiny dragon that was busy standing at the base of a tree. He was hissing up towards the Coo-Coo Rills. I¡¯ll bet the [Messenger''s Pet] had a quest to aggravate every single squirrel monster thing in the city. So far I would say he was about seventy percent complete.

    ¡°Follow the black dragon, Neo.¡± Yes, the new players name was Neo, and I couldn¡¯t help myself from making a dumb joke. Though it was more likely he named himself after the latest Matrix remake and not the original.

    ¡°Cool.¡± He even sounded like the actor. I rolled my eyes and waved the two onward. The small dragon hissed at me too, caught up in his crusade against other creatures his size.

    ¡°If you want more cookies, you better get going!¡±

    ¡°You like cookies?¡± Neo said. He had a black shirt, black pants, brown hair, white skin, one step away from an actual Neo.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll drag you near the bakery. Feel free to try and wheedle a cookie out of Ladette or Pie Master.¡± Knowing those two, they¡¯d add it to my tab.

    ¡°Lead the way little guy!¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡± Barely twenty feet away and they were already fuzzy. Even if this latest plan resulted in progress, how would Old Man Carver actually get anywhere? Being half blind, deaf, and arthritic was a hindrance.

    ¡°Bah.¡± And up came the next player already, their arrival heralded by a quiet beam of light. No, there were three of them in rapid succession. Today was going to be busy.

    ¡°Bah.¡±

    I lifted the cane and shook it upwards towards Selena¡¯s statue. None of the other Voices had representations near or I would do the same to them. I guess in a way I was lucky. I knew who to blame for my situation. Normal players had to muddle their way through while cursing at unspecific figures.

    The flier, which was penned in my terribly sloppy old man words, was for any clues regarding an adventure worthy of Old Man Carver.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Travelers and Locals

    I need an adventure. This adventure must be local, within my skills.

    I will not promise myself to any Voice.

    I will provide a reward equaling the adventure''s worth.

    Contact me with suggestions. Serious replies only.

    William (Old Man) Carver

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I had rewritten that stupid notice at least a dozen times. Every attempt impacted my progression bar which was useful and annoying. Wadding them into a paper ball and asking the [Messenger''s Pet] to throw them out reset my progress. The final notice being posted was one that didn¡¯t cause me to go down.

    That was doubly important to retain my skills increase. Old Man Carver had a wealth of abilities across the board. A [Truth Sense: Verbal specialist] skill looked neat. Others included a [Knowledge: General Weapon Handling] which stacked on top of [Weapon Focus: Two Hander] and [Weapon Focus: Bladed]. The list went on. Like a true player, both kinds, his skills were many and varied.

    The new players were sent on their way. Recently I had dealt with a odd group. Three creepily happy face like children on Christmas. Each one had a different goal in mind, but they approached as a trio. They walked with the same pace and overly annoying swagger. Even their names were styled the same.

    Siblings? No, their faces were different enough that they were probably something else such as longtime friends. Continue Online enforced a seventy percent body likeness for all new players. They could edit their looks or become other races but there would still be a similarity to the person in real life.

    ¡°Ehh.¡± Children ran by with parents strolling around.

    ¡°Ehhh.¡± Another groan. They didn''t seem to be letting up today. In the distance there was a small fuzzy creature watching me intently. [Coo-Coo Rill]s had taken to keeping a scout following me around. Abnormally smart for NPC rodents. Keeping tabs on me would let them track the [Messenger''s Pet] and protect their treasures.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Ehh. Hm.¡±

    Noise kept escaping me uncontrollably. By now I was almost used to it. Hours passed while I groaned and thought about all manner of things. Nothing seemed to be happening fast enough. The few players and NPCs that had showed up didn¡¯t mention my flier. Fine. There were under two weeks left. Maybe something would push me up to a higher percentage this quest could be completed with a great adventure.  I just needed to solve this issue with Mylia. One new player was working on that very topic for me.

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Maybe I could go get in a fight with something. The [Messenger''s Pet] had attempted to conquer everything his size across [Haven Valley]. Why not me?

    Three useless days passed by. Thoughts jumbled around in my head, possible ways to find adventure or talk to Mylia. Oddly, she hadn¡¯t passed by me once since our vague interaction. Even the orphanage children seemed to shy away. Phil who was doing to and from chores was always huffing through.

    Oh. Oh wait. I had an idea. Neat! When one possibility came through there were a whole series that followed closely behind. Many possible angles fitting a cheesy high school plot occurred to me in rapid succession. Why would Old Man Carver care about Mylia? Why would she care about Carver being a [Dragon Slayer]? Why would Carver want one last adventure?

    ¡°Ehhh!¡± A happy groan escaped me. I tried to stand up and do a jig. After a few weeks of stonewalling there was finally a path through.

    All these things were related somehow. Beth had been on point. Quests had layers upon layers. Doing this wasn¡¯t as simple as sitting on a bench pretending to be an old man for the four weeks! Setting up a flier would only garner so much attention and I hadn¡¯t had a real bite in the last few days regarding it.

    ¡°Aha ha ha.¡±

    My hips hurt like crazy, shoulder ached, but happiness overrode all of that. I kept trying to dance around my cane for entirely too long as the ideas occurred to me one after the other. My stamina bar was dwindling rapidly and warning boxes spun into existence.

    ¡°Carver, what are you up to now?¡±

    ¡°Dancing in happiness. It¡¯s what you do when happy.¡± I grumbled and kept going but my momentum had dwindled in the face of witnesses. Sure enough, the one percent gained from helping new players went away, leaving me back at seventy three.

    ¡°Wyl. I need someone to watch my seat. For the rest of the day.¡±

    ¡°Oh? That¡¯s unusual. You have plans?¡± His constant grin was turned up to the max.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to talk to some beautiful ladies.¡±

    ¡°That sounds¡­¡±

    ¡°I know! I¡¯m too old for the ladies!¡± Me, in Old Man Carver''s body, had already started walking off. ¡°But the ladies aren¡¯t too old for me!¡± That wonderfully cheesy comment scored me a percentage back. Whew, I needed the bonus for being at seventy five in order to make this work. [Truth Sense: Verbal specialist] would be super useful in sorting through these possibilities that had occurred to me.

    First would be the High Priestess of Selena up the outcropping. That walk would take forever. I started trudging my way up the virtual, in both senses, mountain. It took almost an hour of staggering and frequent pit stops before this old body made it up the hill to Selena¡¯s column littered temple.

    Recently I discovered William Carver had a number of titles. [Dragon Slayer], [Guide], ones for other monsters killed, bounty hunting, or top tier skills. There was one out of place title marked as ¡®new¡¯ with bright fancy letters. This one said [Messenger] but it had no information. I had a feeling it was tied to William Carver¡¯s warning of the Travelers impending arrival.

    Being able to separate my own information from William Carver''s seemed impossible at this point. Hopefully these things would become more obvious soon. Considering the detrimental traits with Carver¡¯s body it was a wonder he accomplished anything. These problems to offset his abilities. Otherwise Carver could run out of town, slay all the monsters in the area, and made it back before dinner. That was the difference between his gathered abilities and statistics versus other new players.

    Skills on the other hand, once I unlocked this latest bonus, were the key. I couldn¡¯t lose a rank if I wanted this plan to succeed. Telling off Selena¡¯s statue was not to be considered. Glaring at her fuzzy marble form in the distance didn¡¯t lose me any points in progress.

    ¡°Ehhh.¡±

    ¡°William. This is unusual of you.¡± The plump High Priestess sounded sweet with a note of caution.

    ¡°Yes. Yes I¡¯m sure it is. We should sit.¡± I lifted the cane and pointed towards the same ledge view we had shared a week ago.

    I couldn¡¯t make out her face form this angle. Carver''s vision was a bit more blurry than normal right now. Most of my hour journey had been spent trying to find the landmarks and checking my map.

    ¡°If you desire so William, we can sit.¡±

    ¡°Good. Good.¡± Slowly nodding I debated with of my two options would be best used. Method one included the blunt telling of who I was and what I was doing here. Method two involved vague questions to avoid losing my progress points.

    My little friend the [Messenger''s Pet] poked his head out my hood and looked around. Moments later, while my old silent self was debating what to choose, the tiny dragon leapt off the cliff and soared away.

    High Priestess Peach, her name according to the [Identification] window, sighed. For once it didn¡¯t seem sweet or pleasant. It seemed sad, extremely sad. That was an opener and made me toss out the roundabout questioning process out the window. Besides, WWCD implied that being vague and coy was the wrong route to go.

    ¡°You were the first to ask me about him.¡± I shook the cane in the distance towards where the tiny dragon had leapt off. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because if that¡± Priestess Peach managed to sound twisted with sadness ¡°is a Messenger Pet, it means you¡¯ll be dead soon.¡±

    Old Man Carver''s [Truth Sense: Verbal specialist] didn¡¯t show any falsehoods. Plus she answered without any sort of hesitation. So much for being suspicious. I nodded slowly, once again asking myself, WWCD?

    ¡°And if it were true?¡± He would ask questions. Old Man Carver didn''t provide others information until he got something out of them.

    ¡°Then it¡¯d be a sad day for all of us.¡±

    ¡°Ehh.¡± The groan escaped me.

    ¡°Hips again?¡± She asked.

    ¡°And everything else.¡± I admitted. ¡°Rest easy Peach, I¡¯ve no intention of dying.¡±

    ¡°Only the Voices can know William. If they sent the [Messenger''s Pet] to you, then your time is set. Soon you¡¯ll be gone.¡± Still the

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll go out the same way I lived.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°An adventurer. I¡¯ll do my best to go out like an adventurer.¡± Carver had never considered himself a hero. Not once did he use that word in his journals. His actions certainly fit the ideal version of one though. Slaying monsters for the greater good of all common folks was a tried and true method for becoming great.

    ¡°Is that why there¡¯s a flier in town?¡±

    Standing up was difficult with this old frame. Priestess Peach had her answer so I took the Carver way out of things and didn¡¯t give any additional information. The advertisement had my name signed across its bottom.

    ¡°William?¡±

    I gestured a goodbye with the cane and slowly made my way out of the temple. My conversation hadn¡¯t awarded me any solid progress points. Giving Selena¡¯s statue a parting innuendo wasn¡¯t worth the loss. Soon I was too far away to hear her questioning tone.

    Onward, towards my next target! Maybe I would get there before sundown. I ambled past Peg¡¯s training hall. She was busy yelling at the latest person to try her brand of torture. Further on my route was the Bakery. Pie Master and Ladette were both there and waved. A third person was busy sweeping up the shops. My first Traveler, the girl who wanted to learn cooking, was still in town. She smiled, I grunted with a cane lifting salute and got my batch of cookies.

    I ordered an extra dozen as part of my peace offering. Chances were they would come in handy after my conversation with Mylia. If not, then perhaps Phil would take my money making bribe. As an old man I stumbled across one fantastic idea that a newbie town should have put in a long time ago.

    While resting I studied the map. During one stop a player came up and asked me for guidance. I glared and gave him a mindless task, this time to earn Peg¡¯s approval. The player didn¡¯t know but Peg would be able to give him a quest related to his goals if he did well.

    Almost two hours had passed by the time I got to Mylia¡¯s orphanage. The sun wasn¡¯t down so no points were lost. Hopefully this behavior wasn¡¯t too far out of the norm for Carver. Teetering on the edge of this percentage bonus was mildly nerve wracking.

    ¡°Geezer! What are you doing here?¡± Phil shouted at me far before I made it to the door.

    ¡°Bringing a peace offering. Help out or get nothing.¡±

    ¡°More cookies?¡± Phil was extra hushed as he drew closer. Like we were discussing a conspiracy. ¡°What do I need to do for some extras?¡±

    ¡°Help me smooth things over with Mylia.¡± I leaned in and pretended to conspire with the youth. Phil put out a hand and gestured towards the bag.

    ¡°Cookie first.¡± Smart boy, he wasn¡¯t giving anything away for free either.

    ¡°We have a deal then?¡± And Carver wouldn¡¯t just hand someone over anything first. Not without some sort of exchange.

    ¡°Sure thing Geezer, you know us Orphans don¡¯t renege on our deals.¡± He was practically glowing in anticipation. ¡°Deal''s a deal''s a deal.¡±

    [Truth Sense: Verbal specialist] didn¡¯t trigger. I forked over a cookie slowly. Luckily the [Messenger''s Pet] hadn¡¯t come back or I would be short a few cookies already.

    ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°Hah! You don¡¯t smooth things over with her, once you¡¯re on her list, you¡¯re on it forever!¡±

    ¡°Am I?¡± Here was my next outright test of Carver¡¯s abilities. I gave Phil the best level stare this body could muster while hoping those were his eyes and not smudged cheeks. Blurry vision was a curse.

    ¡°On her list?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes. Come on boy, you know darn well what I¡¯m asking.¡±

    ¡°Sure do. And no, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re on her list, yet. Maybe. She¡¯s been upset though. Easier to make mad. The littles have been running scared when she comes in.¡±

    I frowned. That wasn¡¯t a good sign. Phil watched everything like a hawk. His [Identification] results lead me to believe that he knew what was going on between me and Mylia. The boy had a few traits of his own that all pointed towards a grifter watching for his mark.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on out there Phil? Whose here?¡± Mylia was practically shouting from inside the house. If she hadn¡¯t been so loud, I probably wouldn¡¯t have been able to understand her.

    ¡°Got to go! Bye Geezer!¡± Phil snatched another cookie and ran off.

    ¡°Ehhh.¡± The door slammed open in a rush as Mylia tried to catch us conspiring.

    ¡°Mister Carver. What are you doing skulking about out there?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you finally lost your mind.¡± Judging by her tone I was certainly not in a good place with Mylia.

    ¡°Oh no worries, Mylia. I lost it a long time ago.¡± Mylia looked down at the bag I was still holding awkwardly with one hand. The cane was barely offsetting it¡¯s weight.

    ¡°More treats? Those may work on the kids, but not on me Mister Carver.¡±

    ¡°Miss Jacobs, if I knew what worked on you, I would have tried it a long time ago.¡± Which would have solved this whole side quest from the get go.

    She actually smiled a little even though my progress bar showed a negative response. It must have been part of a percent because I managed to stay above seventy five. Some of my progress points went like that, with just a flash of red and green arrows but overall unchanged numbers.

    ¡°You can keep right on trying Mister Carver. Maybe one day you¡¯ll crack it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have long left to figure it out Mylia Jacobs.¡± Combining Priestess Peach¡¯s information with Mylia¡¯s earlier concern painted an obvious picture. A [Messenger''s Pet] somehow heralded death.

    She stood in the doorway looking flustered. Up close it was easy to see how thin she looked. More so than she had in the days prior, Mylia seemed to be wasting away. Was she sick with something?

    ¡°So it¡¯s true then?¡± She asked.

    ¡°About the [Messenger''s Pet]?¡± Standing here holding a bag of cookies was getting harder. My stamina bar was dropping slowly.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know the answer.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re not going to die?¡±

    ¡°Mylia Jacobs, we all die eventually.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s morbid for an old man. Do you think you can just die and leave all your past deeds unpunished?¡±

    Clearly the whole Dragon Slayer thing had been key in her attitude change. Stories about Carver''s past should have been shared around town before. I sighed and moved on with the next phase, poorly trying to tie in our past moments to progress this quest forward.

    ¡°Do you remember the poem you read Mylia?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Then the answer is clear, if I do pass, I will not regret my choices.¡±

    ¡°What choices could possibly bother a seasoned man like yourself?¡± I tried to stomp my foot in emphasis but didn''t manage to move that fast. The slight lean reminded me instead of Carver''s hip problems.

    ¡°Mylia, what bothers me is unimportant, but I killed a dragon and that disturbs you.¡± This wasn¡¯t me taking a stab in the dark at why her attitude had changed. She was clearly upset because the quest text had said so. Too bad Carver¡¯s [Truth Sense: Verbal specialist] didn¡¯t extend to body language.

    As Beth pointed out, quests may have layers. Side quests may tie together in weird ways to the situation at hand. She had suggested thinking about what the NPCs had, what the players had, and think outside the box.

    Old Man Carver was not the sort to give away information unless there was an exchange. He kept his cards close to his chest. He grumbled about everything. Like these cookies that were now too heavy to hold. I set them down.

    ¡°Why would you say that Mister Carver?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯ve been around the block quite a few times Mylia. I may be blind, nearly deaf, have an ache in my joints when it¡¯s too hot or cold, and my shoulders kill me every morning, but I¡¯m not stupid. Just old.¡± Progression points up!

    ¡°So? Why does any of that mean you care Mister Carver? You come around and tell your stories, and the kids like it, but why?¡± Mylia asked.

    Another person was testing my WWCD instincts. But, and this was the important part, she was reacting to these statements. Mylia was giving me more information and talking more than the entire last two weeks. Pushing her now would be useful in solving the quest. Tossing my Carverisms out the window right now would be risky to my progress marker. I had come up with a roundabout plan to get more information.

    ¡°I came to see the kids anyway, about a story.¡±

    ¡°Fine. For the children.¡±

    ¡°For the Children.¡± I chuckled. ¡°The battle cry of warring couples everywhere.¡± Mylia got a pat on the shoulder as I walked past her into the orphanage. ¡°Warn me before you start throwing dishes.¡± Progress points dropped from my offhanded snark.

    ¡°Maybe I will, maybe I won¡¯t.¡± Mylia at least played along rather well. My chuckling continued. She was a fun lady. If it wasn¡¯t for this whole quest series while pretending to be William Carver, I would have a better time.

    ¡°Uncle Carver!¡±

    ¡°Mistrr Caaver.¡± The youngest little girl seemed pleased.

    ¡°Hi little Miss. I brought treats again.¡±

    ¡°Yay!¡± The children descended on the container like a pack of savages. Considering their almost constantly thin look they were probably always hungry.

    ¡°Eat them all before my little friend shows up.¡±

    ¡°The tiny baby dragon whelp thing guy?¡± One of the little children asked. They had been relegated to the back of the cookie line.

    ¡°That¡¯s the one.¡± I nodded. ¡°He¡¯s a bit of a pig so you¡¯d best hide all the crumbs.¡±

    ¡°Okey Caaver.¡±

    ¡°Good. I spent time trying to find out the best story ever to tell you all, I¡¯ve been having a hard time. Maybe instead, you all can help me.¡±

    ¡°Uncle Carver, I want to pet the little dragon.¡±

    ¡°If he lets you.¡± I nodded happily while finding a place to sit. Just like the last time children were busy shuffling around chairs and jostling for space.

    ¡°What was your story this time Uncle?¡±

    ¡°Yeah Geezer.¡± Phil had found his way in among the others. ¡°Whatcha got for us?¡±

    ¡°No story today. Just cookies, and a change of pace.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± The tones around the room were fairly similar. Even Mylia sounded a bit thrown off.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Phil said.

    ¡°For years I¡¯ve been coming here, sitting with you, sharing story after story.¡±

    ¡°Uh huh.¡± The little girl said.

    ¡°So, I think you all owe me a story.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Other confused statements went around the room in a sudden jerk. I smiled. This was certainly against Carver''s standard actions. Judging by the hovering progress bar I hadn¡¯t actually done anything wrong yet. After all, William Carver lived his recent years out by giving people quests.

    ¡°How many tales have I told you kids?¡±

    ¡°A lot.¡± One of the oldest said. Judging by their size it wouldn¡¯t be long before they were forced to move on from the orphanage.

    ¡°Then I deserve one in return I think.¡±

    ¡°Sounds fair.¡± One of the oldest said. They leaned against the wall watching a sea of small children munch away at baked goods. He seemed a hard working sort with a deep tan. My vision was too fuzzy, but I would bet his hands were calloused and dirty from field work.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡± One of the younger children said.

    ¡°Well I want to.¡± Another child said. They argued back and forth for a while, each one having a different view. I stomped the cane to get everyone''s attention. Amazingly, it worked very well.

    ¡°There¡¯s only one rule.¡±

    ¡°What now Geezer?¡±

    ¡°It can¡¯t be a story I¡¯ve told you.¡± Both hands were back on top of the cane keeping me from tipping forward.

    ¡°But I like your stories Uncle.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± I tried to give this entire conversation my best grumpy old man tone. Hopefully it came across as a kind of abrasive cadence with a hint of affection. ¡°But tell me something new.¡±

    ¡°How would we find a new story?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s up to you all, but if you do, I¡¯ll promise a reward. Something to help you make money.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s that ya Geezer?¡± Phil had snagged a second cookie and was even now savoring it with a blissful look on his eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡± I had other contacts to visit tomorrow. Other places to go and things to do, like setting up dominoes in preparation. When they finally fell, Old Man Carver¡¯s contribution would be etched into the city even more.

    After much harassment from the younger children, I provided another story. This time it was an obscure tale I had dug up about a child exploring the land of dreams. Just a little bit of fright, a little bit of excitement, and unexpected heroism in the face of fear. The younger ones asked a lot of questions and expected details well outside my limited preparation. Much was made up on the spot but they seemed pleased. I got a popup box regarding the entire night''s affairs and slowly read through it as I Carver''d my way home. No bonuses, no quests, just a notice that the children had enjoyed it.

    Strange. After only three weeks I had started thinking of the little cottage as a second home. Another man¡¯s shoes, clothes, book collection and trophies. It felt comfortable in its foreignness. I went through the full motions of getting this tired old body into a bath heated by some sort of magical rock. The dirty water drained down into a piece of plumbing likely set up by one of the town residents years ago. I even slowly curled up under heavy down covers and felt the drowsiness as Carver''s eyelids slowly slipped shut.

    Then blackness overtook both me and the person I was pretending to be. Hours later I woke up to an intense chest pain. Breath froze as sharp shots of crippling discomfort spiraled through my arm and down one leg.

    ¡°Ehhh.¡± Both eyes were fluttering uncontrollably as my ARC sent notices of damage across my body. I couldn¡¯t even reach the log out button to try and avoid it.

    ¡°Ehhhhhh.¡±

    Just when the first wave started to fade, leaving me hopeful that it was over, a second surge swung up past my senses. My defenses were down. Boxes were coming into existence saying words that were impossible to focus on. Likely they were happy notices that I was suffering a heart attack.

    Then they were gone, and I was left gasping and panting.

    A box showed up, displaying that Old Man Carver''s constitution had once again saved the day. He was a former hero. The game stats reflected his abilities with regards to toughing out one of the worst pains I had ever experienced.

    I logged out of the ARC''s simulated pain then fell back asleep in exhaustion almost as soon reality returned. This game might well be the death of me yet.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Thirteen - Finishing Touches

    <cite></cite>¡°Think, think old man.¡± What could I start into motion? What other balls could I set spinning in order to achieve my final few points?

    The time limit was rapidly approaching. Five days were left on the clock and I had lumbered around town setting up all sorts of events. I felt like an old dog trying to go out in a blaze of playful glory.

    A blacksmith and his two player apprentices received an order for light metal frameworks. There was a woodcarver who got more orders and was easy enough to fool. I had to use Carver''s map to find someone to do embroidery and make cushions too. In the end, I had a fairly good result. It was just fragmented still and all over the place.

    Old Man Carver had enough money squirreled away around his house to prove that the payment itself wasn¡¯t an issue. My issue was being somewhat secretive with my project. Players from an older generation would recognize this device once I assembled it. Younger children, well older teenagers who seemed like children, might not know.

    Innovations from our world had far-reaching impacts upon the world of [Arcadia]. If done right these orphanage kids could earn money. The older ones especially if they didn''t have some other prospect lined up.

    And they wouldn¡¯t need to thieve like Phil did.

    I sat down and slowly started fitting the pieces together. It took me hours in the real world to find appropriate blueprints and memorize them. Days in the game had passed while craftsmen did their thing. New players had quests and got small monitory rewards so they were pleased. This project of mine was a bicycle and harness that attached to a carriage.

    I noticed that new players had me as a guide and I had the [Messenger''s Pet]. Since new players all started with money, they could invest some funds to get guided tours all around town. Their money would go to the people driving which would be the orphans.

    I guess players who stuck around long enough could do the same thing. They would probably get points to [Brawn], [Endurance], and [Speed] if they survived. Plus, older folks like me wouldn¡¯t have to hobble around.

    Voices above. I would love to have someone peddle my old virtual body back to Carver''s house at the end of a night. It took almost an hour of personal shuffling to get anywhere.

    ¡°Whatcha got there geezer?¡±

    ¡°A lot of none ya,¡± I grumbled. My points constantly bounced up and down at the seventy-six percent mark. It was getting harder to jostle them either way. That was a small blessing. Maybe the ghost of Carver was approving of my actions, as bizarre as they would be for his recent personality.

    ¡°Looks weird. Is that a wheel?¡± Phil had invaded my backyard where all the pieces were scattered around.

    ¡°What do you think, Phil?¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s a wheel. What do you have that needs six wheels?¡± He asked. I went over the picture in my head again. This contraption would be properly balanced, hopefully.

    ¡°Make yourself useful and help me get this together. I need the cart.¡± I waved a tired limb in the youngsters direction.

    ¡°I can see the cart, but you got no horse to hitch this to. Ain¡¯t gonna do you much good, your back would give out before getting anywhere, cus you¡¯re a geezer.¡± He had at least gotten closer judging by his voice.

    ¡°Help or get out Phil!¡±

    Slowly the sun was setting while Phil hammered away. Despite his attitude, he actually did a fair job of getting the cart portion together. I grumbled as if displeased but was very happy.

    ¡°Get these in there. Make sure they fit nice.¡±

    I had a player help me with the carriage cushions. She was working for one of the older ladies in town who taught embroidery and general tailoring skills. I tried to ask for a really nice product, something with a removable cover that would tuck inward. Too bad this world didn¡¯t have zippers yet. Plastics and other such materials were lacking at this point so I had to fall back to other adhesives. Even the bags used to clean up town were a strange material that wasn¡¯t really plastic.

    ¡°This looks kind of lordly. You gonna buy a mule and get it to carry your old bones down to the water?¡± Phil was rubbing his hands from where he banged them while working.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Whatcha gonna do with this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to burn it all to the ground if you keep asking me questions. Or you could keep quiet,¡± because Carver''s spirit gave me negative points for saying shut up ¡°and wait. At least until it¡¯s finished.¡±

    ¡°Is this what you wanted me to see?¡±

    I grunted and kept trying to get the bike frame together. The wheels had been tough to figure out. Rubber didn¡¯t exist. Nearly a full day went to searching through crafting shops trying to find an other world counterpart. Turned out there was a fairly similar material that was refined from tar and ores that gave the same pliable feeling.

    According to the craft owner it also was fairly hard to break down.

    I had contemplated finding an enchanter, but the town only had one who required a dozen pre-requisites to even speak with. No players had ventured down an enchanter''s path yet either so I couldn¡¯t bribe them. Rain proofing would have to be another project.

    ¡°These are nice. Do you think I could get some for my bed?¡± There was a look on Phil¡¯s face that caught me off guard. I forgot how poor they were over there. The orphanage barely had the money to feed its charges, much less afford good furniture.

    ¡°Mh,¡± I grunted again, unsure how to say anything Carver-esque at this point. ¡°Phil, since you can¡¯t stop chattering, go get me some food from the pantry. This labor makes me hungry.¡±

    Phil leaped up and away from his nearly furnished cart while I attached the wheels to my frame. The wheels were locked into place by old fashioned iron clips that slid through a hole on either end of the hollow pipe.

    ¡°Those don¡¯t look very strong.¡± Phil was back moments latter munching crackers and meat from my pantry. My share was deposited onto the ground with a handkerchief wrapped around them.

    ¡°It¡¯s plenty strong.¡±

    ¡°Why the giant holes?¡±

    ¡°Keeps it light.¡± The food was a service. My answering Phil¡¯s question was now considered the reward.

    ¡°Are those going to hook together?¡± He was pointing at some of the bars that I had laid out on the ground.

    ¡°Yes. Now stop jawing and help.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± He shoveled another batch of food to his mouth in an uncivilized manner and started following directions. Another twenty minutes later and the sun had completely set. The light cast from Carver''s cottage was just enough to see our finished product.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It looks like a right mess.¡±

    ¡°Come back tomorrow morning, I¡¯ll show you how it works.¡± By then I would have the chain on. That was the last piece to get everything together. Well, and grease. Keeping the chain off would prevent Phil from trying any successful midnight races.

    ¡°How early?¡±

    ¡°Sunrise boy. Be there.¡± Old Man Carver''s body woke well before dawn and staggered around. I would let him run on autopilot for most of the morning routine while I researched in my Atrium.

    The bike ride was my scheme to get orphanage kids on my side. They already ran messages for people who paid a copper or two. Showing new players around and carting goods under their own power would earn them a decent fee. Bicycles didn¡¯t require food or grooming or shoveling their leavings.

    ¡°Ehhh.¡± A groan escaped me. My shoulder wasn¡¯t pleased after all this exertion. Even my interface warned me that I recently abused this old body a bit too much.

    I got my body inside the house and took care of a few manual things while thinking about possibilities. Normally I logged off as soon as I was done and zoomed off to get sleep in the real world but time was precious at this point. My clock was ticking and none of these projects led me towards further conversation with Mylia or finding an Adventure.

    My flier was still up, I checked, but responses had been minimal. Either no one had information for me, or no one cared. Perhaps the NPCs of this world were just programmed to ignore out of character behavior.

    Did any of Carver''s inventory summon monsters to battle?

    No.

    Did any of his journals or people known have great but local adventures for an old man to go on?

    No.

    Was there anything on the enhanced map that provided me a hint?

    Way beyond no.

    I tried too many possibilities. Skill combinations that lead to a revelation? Divine ascension or other planes to jot to overnight? Any signs of secret bosses within the town? Impending wars upon our local area? No, also no, still no, and, of course, no.

    My attempts to find a recently deceased member of Trillium also belly flopped. Well, there were a few, but none of William Carver''s advanced years. No one resembled his face on the primary board of trusties. The player¡¯s handbook stated new players were forced to look similar to their Continue avatar. The only known exceptions were modifications for alternate species or transformations of that nature.

    I guess turning into a dragon while retaining some semblance of human features was unreasonable. A small smile crossed my features as I pictured a giant dragon with Carver''s grumpy face on it. That would be extremely silly and neat. With one beefy arm added for good measure.

    ¡°Dragon man?¡± I snickered and shook my head.

    Nearby the [Messenger''s Pet] had started hopping around the house. Slowly he inspected one object after another in suspicion. Nothing had changed since the last time he performed this ritual. With a purr and clack of jaws, the small creature leaped from a bookshelf onto one of Old Man Carver''s tables. More sniffing ensued. Slight huffs resulted in steam.

    ¡°Don¡¯t burn anything.¡±

    The [Messenger''s Pet] looked at me and yawned. I, feeling the weight of Carver''s age and time of night nodded while yawning back.

    ¡°You figure anything out?¡±

    He shook his tiny head and huffed again. His eyes blinked slowly as he looked around. Another yawn and he shook from head to toe. Looking slightly revitalized he fluttered and leaped away again.

    ¡°What now?¡± There was no answer, which was fairly standard. This little guy rarely actually responded unless bribed with desserts. He existed in a land of equivalent exchange. William Carver did, James did, as a player I had yet to be grow used to it.

    But I still wasn¡¯t really a game player, not in my own mind. I was still just a man pretending to be William Carver through all the simulated pain and irritation of dealing with new players. A situation that my mind hadn¡¯t completely wrapped itself around.

    Speaking of, it was time for the next list of names.

    ¡°What do you think of J?rmungandr?¡± I made the ARC tell me how to pronounce that one.

    The small [Messenger''s Pet] looked up and huffed a smoke ring at me. That seemed to symbolize disagreement or annoyance.

    ¡°Leviathan?¡± Another milder smoke ring appeared. The [Messenger''s Pet] seemed less annoyed with this name.

    ¡°No huh? You do seem a bit small for a Leviathan. They¡¯re big I hear.¡± Not that I had met any. In my world, the legend of a leviathan was most likely based on creatures like the now extinct giant squid.

    ¡°Ouroboros?¡± He outright coughed and a spark of fire flared up for just a moment. ¡°Woh, remember, no fire in the house.¡±

    Multiple [Coo-Coo Rill]s had perished in the last few days. This was due to the [Messenger''s Pet] and his flames. I also lost three new player maps. Strangely the little creature decided toasting cupcakes was a taboo. He took extra care only to use claws and teeth when devouring the snacks.

    ¡°Still no right?¡± The tiny creature nodded. Clearly he was smart enough to understand my words. He also felt like a child in the respect that his attention wandered very quickly.

    ¡°What are you looking for?¡± I shuffled into the next room after him gripping objects and desks for support. Everything hurt but after the simulated heart attacks these pains almost seemed mild.

    A week ago I threw names of wyverns at him. Those had resulted in an outright bark of flames. Turned out he didn¡¯t like being compared to a wyvern. According to the ARC¡¯s Internet searches there was a hierarchy among mythical beasts. Wyverns were portrayed as dumber and had no front limbs. More like scaly bats. Dragons had four limbs and two wings.

    ¡°Maybe you should find some letters and write out your name with them.¡± Old Man Carver didn¡¯t own a fridge with children¡¯s magnates though. I checked. There was no wide spread usage of a printing press in this world. No stamps which to borrow.

    Maybe [Messenger''s Pet]¡¯s didn¡¯t come with spelling skills. Or maybe it had a name and I was failing to guess it.

    ¡°Rumpelstiltskin?¡± The latest attempt was more for my own amusement.

    The [Messenger''s Pet] had cornered one of my city maps. There were two kinds, one was a smaller handheld one that seemed to appear endlessly in William Carver''s clothes. They were always on the same inside pocket, even if I had just given one away to a new player.

    His other map was a table wide one that unrolled over the entire desk. It didn¡¯t contain more notes than the smaller version. The size was useful enough and made things far easier to read with this body¡¯s blurry vision.

    ¡°What¡¯s this now?¡± He nosed out the map carefully instead of using claws. When nudging things the [Messenger''s Pet] had terrible control.

    ¡°Town, yes, I¡¯ve seen this before.¡± Many countless times by now. Even if I started as a new character with no inventory [Haven Valley] would still yield plenty of results. If I started here anyway. My still nameless [Messenger Pet] lifted one foot and set it back down with some force. He repeated the motion enough that even I got the hint.

    ¡°What are you on about now?¡±

    ¡°Yes, there¡¯s one of the smiths. Here¡¯s us.¡± I ran a finger around the town slowly establishing what the small creature was talking about.

    ¡°What¡¯s this now?¡±

    While there were almost always new notes and possibilities to read on the map. Progressing with my Old Man Carver synergy bar had revealed a whole series of secrets. What the [Messenger''s Pet] had found was something new.

    This wasn¡¯t one of my known buildings, one of the barely defined shapes that resembled houses and key points as seen from above. My newest map point was a black inky dot that almost seemed to be looking at me. I narrowed already barely open eyelids at the map in a squint.

    ¡°Mmmh.¡±

    I put my finger right under the new destination and tapped the cane in my other hand.

    ¡°Ah ha! Adventure!¡±

    There was a dungeon in town. I knew because the map said so. [Maze of Midnight (Dungeon ¨C Beginner)]

    The reason I never noticed was in the name itself. On top of that was an obvious description. This dungeon only opened at midnight and Old Man Carver typically passed out well before then. Even now my stamina bar was almost completely drained. I was also covered in nicks and bruises from trying to assemble the tourist bike before tonight. Usually, I was passed out or logged off well before midnight in the game.

    Was that a good adventure?

    I nodded. It would do. If Old Man Carver could take down a dragon, he could at least make it to the front door. Not tonight though. Tomorrow I would do one last set of rounds and then start preparing for the dungeon to the best of my ability. Maybe the handbook had some more hints.

    ¡°Nngh.¡± A thought occurred to me that made the whole prospect undesirable. ¡°I¡¯ll need a party, won¡¯t I?¡±

    Going into a dungeon with Pie Master would be unhealthy.

    Unless he brought pie, or better yet cupcakes. Then I could bribe my [Messenger''s Pet] to attack all the monsters for me. I tucked in and let Carver¡¯s body get some rest while logging back to my Atrium for research. Hopefully, I would be able to keep myself awake for a few more minutes of research.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°ARC, resume search for Trillium employees. Add an expansion for employees, outlying contractors and family members. Set search limits for the date range to four years, and status to deceased.¡±

    ¡°Parameters updated. Search resuming.¡±

    ¡°ARC, initiate a second search, Maze of Midnight.¡±

    Results compiled in front of me. I shuffled the deceased listings off to one side for later review. The [Maze of Midnight] would probably come up empty. There were two songs, fourteen terrible poems, a band, and some obscure hacking incident. Nothing here looked like legend or lore to tip me off. There was a tip in the Continue paper handbook talking about how most in game things were based on real legends and myths. From the name I could assume this place was a maze, but that was already in the description too.

    ¡°Remove search results for Maze of Midnight.¡± The files shattered into light and I was left with the first pile for deceased.

    Pictures were found, reports of how people passed, obituary notices. Nothing resembled Old Man Carver''s in game face. Not even if I backed my brain up a few years and accounted for time lapses between worlds. I scattered the second set of research with a wave and propped my virtual chin onto one hand.

    As usual the [Messenger''s Pet] had followed me to the Atrium. He was currently staring up at my cabinets with a quizzical turn to his head.

    ¡°ARC.¡±

    I paused for too long.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡±

    Goodness, I was having a hard time figuring out what to do next. ¡°Pause command.¡±

    I had gotten the bike together. I had arranged for Wyl and Dayl to cover my shift in the event of my passing, just in case this whole thing was a final countdown. Enduring chest pains and a bad limp along with all this other complexity was incredibly aggravating. I was missing some piece to the Old Man Carver puzzle and nothing clicked right.

    ¡°ARC. Resume. Display Continue.¡± A small box appeared to the side feeding me an image of Old Man Carver snoring away in bed. Everything looked normal and lined up perfectly with my standard view. I sighed and snorted out air much like the [Messenger''s Pet] might.

    ¡°Bah!¡± I tilted to one side. Standing on my head for a change in perspective didn¡¯t help, plus Old Man Carver''s body couldn¡¯t handle it. I did this sort of antic in the Atrium where my movement was far less restricted. There had to be some clue to make this all work. So far I had tried a dozen internet searches. I even downloaded a few scenic programs and tried to see if they would stir any thoughts from a change of pace.

    The windswept cliff overlooking a majestic valley hadn¡¯t helped. A pod in outer space with opposing views towards the earth and moon hadn¡¯t helped. It was pretty, just not pretty useful.

    I had even downloaded a ride along movie of Dragon Skies, one of the most popular action first person films to be released this year. The scenes were intense and over the top, but since it scripted actions everything felt artificial. The player behind Old Man Carver had lived a true life and death encounter to get a [Dragon Slayer] achievement. Each choice his own, each action and reaction trained and honed.

    What had the player thought during these moments? Was he elated? Did he feel a rush for battle? I personally would have wet myself. The depicted dragons were many times taller than my house. Standing against that while shouting defiantly was not my style. I would whimper like a mouse and crawl off.

    ¡°How did he do it?¡± I got up and paced around. ¡°How did he challenge so many things while feeling that kind of pain and feedback?¡± Great, now I was talking out loud to the [Messenger''s Pet]. At least it was in the privacy of my Atrium.

    ¡°I mean I have a hard enough logging in and walking around. I can¡¯t imagine that years ago he was much better.¡± This was somehow worse to me than anyone who talked to a cat. The [Messenger''s Pet] was a digital program and I was in a computer generated reality.

    ¡°For what, if the time compression held, at least six years? More?¡± The journals actually went back just shy of thirty years according to what I had pieced together. There weren¡¯t any real data stamps, just markers of how long specific portions took.

    I had to tally them all up in reverse order while trying to pry information out of the most talkative NPCs like Peg. She never stopped her mouth and was either chatting mindless or correcting some student who was failing.

    ¡°Seriously. ARC!¡± I was getting livid and tired now.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡±

    ¡°Show Trillium members with heart problems! All, alive or deceased.¡±

    ¡°Warning: Information will be incomplete. Non-deceased citizens are protected by law from having personal information revealed.¡±

    ¡°News articles or anything you can glean. Rumor, gossip, whatever!¡± The ARC wouldn¡¯t try to hack into other''s files or obtain information illegally, but it would go to less certified sources.

    Worst case scenario I would break down and ask James for help. He was an AI of the machine and would probably have something. I wanted to avoid asking him, not because I was worried about the exchange of information, but because I wanted to complete this on my own. Each possibility eliminated helped narrow things down. Mylia avoided me since my impromptu visit. The orphanage kids didn¡¯t visit much except Phil. New players had slowly stopped trying to track me down, instead going to whichever guard was substituting for me.

    My progress hadn¡¯t dropped any great amount, which meant I wasn¡¯t failing, I wasn¡¯t making headway either. Technically there was a reward based on my completion rate, the prize being information. This information was meant to clear up Continue Online¡¯s ghost in the machine.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">A Last Gasp</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Unknown</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    You¡¯ve chosen to take up the mantle of James (Old Man) Carver. The duration of this act is four weeks. Many of Old Man Cavers skills and knowledge are still functional.

    Results will be measured based on performance as Old Man Carver. Review synchronization meter for progress. Special circumstances tied to this quest have imposed the following restriction.

    Auto pilot time will not impact completion.

    Failure: Complete failure is impossible

    Success: Possible information (Restricted)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There was a reason. I was almost afraid to find out. I had suspicions. I existed outside the box with access to all the fictional foreshadowing forty years'' worth of people could create. Virtual reality wasn¡¯t a new concept or theory. In practice, it was just recently reaching a peak with Continue Online. Each possible reason bothered me more than the last. I had only briefly seen a shattered version of my fiancee in the morgue. Those remains were hers. If she had somehow faked her death¡­ Well, all my sorrow would likely turn to rage. Just the thought of it made me shake in the Atrium.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare knock more glasses off the counter.¡± I stomped over and pulled away the latest victim to my [Messenger''s Pet] and his destructive ways. ¡°Maybe I should download a friend for you in here.¡±

    I looked around and frowned. This place hadn¡¯t really been changed since I originally installed it. Maybe a virtual pet would be good, liven things up a bit. Plus if I put in a back yard of some sort then they could go destroy it and leave this digital rendition of my house intact. A few days ago I had finally swept up the first mess of glass.

    ¡°To heck with it.¡± I was thinking too much, I needed to shift my brain completely and not think about anything serious. To do that required a complete distraction from where the mire of Continue Online.

    The dance program was fired up, I went straight for the group songs, the kind of thing that would go on a pop video or up on stage. I did my best to fit in with the younger crowd, to move and jive in a terrible rendition of randomly shuffled top hits. My skills were lax due to the time distortion of Continue Online. The end score was still decent.Nothing about my groove screamed superstar. These antics wouldn¡¯t be posted online for friends and family. No, I was just a middle-aged man in a tight tee shirt dancing around on stage with half his gut hanging out. That was not popular at all.

    But it was distracting.

    Clapping came from the dimly lit outer edges of my dance program. Large clomping thuds and a jolly laugh.

    ¡°That was without a doubt the most entertaining performance I¡¯ve seen recently. And I have an entire realm of mad fools to watch over.¡±

    ¡°James. Hey.¡± I huffed. Dancing, even in a virtual world, was mentally exhausting. With the exercise bands on it was physically strenuous too. Sore muscles would be my reward for failing to stretch. A hand gesture spawned one towel in my hand, I mopped off the simulated sweat and tried to dry off.

    ¡°Is this more entertaining to you than visiting our world?¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡± Still huffing I looked around at the dull backdrop that went with my program. There was a vague notion of audience members and crowds of fans in the distance. A score hovered to one side. The other members of this dance group were frozen and still.

    ¡°No. Not really, I just needed to clear my head a little. To think, you know?¡±

    ¡°Ah, the escape from your trials. Are you sure that¡¯s wise?¡±

    ¡°I never claimed to be wise.¡± Entertaining a computer AI from one program, while in another was just weird. ¡°ARC!¡± I leaned my head back and stared up.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡±

    ¡°Shut down this program, enable a refresh. Get me back to square one.¡± Keywords were embedded into my commands. The dance program would shut down, clean me up, and prevent the simulated exhaustion from winning. Afterward my virtual body would be deposited back in the Atrium.

    Light flashed through and advanced scientific magic stuff happened. I was used to it, but James seemed mildly interested. Perhaps considering what would happen to his program while the ARC ran its sequences would have been a good idea.

    ¡°Jeez. You¡¯re really well designed.¡± I admired his ability to completely disregard the normal laws of programs.

    ¡°Thank you. I find humanity equally interesting to observe.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think of yourself as human?¡±

    ¡°I am not. I am a Voice. We have personalities, we are, by our definition, alive, but we are far from human.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± These conversations always felt really neat and disorienting. The machine thought it was alive? Well, who was I to judge? Lawmaking was outside my skill set. Polishing metal frames was not.

    ¡°My turn for a question, Grant Legate.¡± He held up one hand to pause anything further I might say.

    ¡°Fire away.¡± I walked over and ran the small [Messenger''s Pet] some water. Finally, he got a scoop of virtual ice cream that cost more than it should have. James smiled.

    ¡°Two questions actually, but one at a time.¡±

    I shrugged and kept up my exercises to return my heart rate to normal. The ARC had a heart rhythm monitoring program that launched after every sports like game. It helped the users know when their brainwaves had settled down to a reasonable level.

    ¡°First, do you believe that you can complete William Carver''s quests within the deadline?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to. I think I¡¯ve got something.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s excellent news. The other Voices have been disappointed with the results so far. I¡¯ve told them you would require time to fill another man¡¯s shoes.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hard work. Trying to think like he would, to answer like he would. I¡¯m way more open, he keeps things close to the chest until someone does him a favor.¡± The water went a bowl from one of the virtual cabinets. I¡¯m not even sure why kitchenware mattered here. Probably to keep the shock of transitioning between the real world and my Atrium to a minimum.

    ¡°His personality markers were varied. Greed mixed with empathy for children, wanting to see people do well but detesting hand holding. Incredibly driven. The more I observe humanity, the more I notice these contradictions.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. We are what time and tide have made of us. A lifetime of experiences often leaves a mark.¡± I sighed. That was a line from my therapist. ¡°Anyway. Contradictions. We¡¯re full of them. Look at our politics sometime.¡±

    My body was almost back to normal now. These bands had my external vitals all out of whack compared to my normal dance nights. Maybe my belly would have vanished a year ago if I had started using them sooner.

    ¡°I¡¯ll not comment on your rulers, those in our world provide more than enough for me to study on that front. Besides, I¡¯m not interested in such broad groupings, I study individuals.¡±

    ¡°So psychology.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but with a focus on behavioral studies and motivational understanding.¡± James sounded pleased and kept the focus on me as I paced around the room. ¡°My role as a Voice is to learn what drives those from your world and to test them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask about that, how twisted does this stuff get?¡± My head shook. That wasn¡¯t right. ¡°Wait, to expand, this whole thing with my fianc¨¦e isn¡¯t some game plot is it?¡±

    I asked before. I would probably ask again.

    ¡°No. But make no mistake, Grant Legate, there will be tests and temptations. You yourself have already been subjected to a few.¡± I shuddered to think about the Temptress herself. Part of me would be unsurprised if she started strutting right out of the game doorway to Continue Online''s world. James kept talking while I nervously eyed the portal.

    ¡°But if you are truly able to solve William Carver''s final quest, then he may provide an answer.¡±

    I nodded. That was the whole point of doing this entire oddball role playing. Literal role-playing, not just gain a level and distribute points. Not hack and slash style gaming, no, I was actually playing the role of a completely separate person.

    ¡°I look forward to your progress, Grant Legate.¡± James nodded as well, then faded out.

    Finally, my heart rate was back to normal.

    Wait.

    ¡°He may?¡± I muttered to myself, trying to remember James¡¯ words. Did that mean William Carver wasn¡¯t dead? What had started as a hunch was now in full confirmed status.

    ¡°Oh my god.¡± The sheer excitement passing through me completely overrode my hearing. Otherwise, I might have noticed I sounded just like my niece, Beth.

    The follow-up question on my end was equally disturbing. Had James let that slip intentionally? Hadn¡¯t he lead me to believe Carver was dead? James was a computer program, he could think hundreds of times faster than any normal human being might. Even if his attention was scattered it would still be enough to correct grammar in the event of a mistake.

    No, James had specifically said that for a reason. I would have to go out like a hero while guiding new players. Ideas spun through my mind and slowly a final plan came together. Hopefully, this would be fitting for William, if he was watching out there somewhere. Second to that was meeting the Voices'' desired level of approval.

    According to the vitals monitor, real life had started to exert some demands. Food, restroom, bathroom. Today was Saturday. I had all day tomorrow to try and finish out this quest.

    ¡°ARC!¡± I felt happy, now there were ideas in my brain. This quest wasn¡¯t for me, it wasn¡¯t for a computer''s version of William Carver, it was a show for the player himself. I didn¡¯t need their approval, I needed his. If there was one skill I was good at, it was working within people¡¯s expectations.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡±

    ¡°Log me out!¡±

 Book 1, Memories; Session Fourteen - Worse than Cats!

    <cite></cite>¡°You. You¡¯re helping me.¡± I said to one of the many players stuck in town for their tutorial period. Four weeks in a city where they couldn¡¯t escape. Not unlike what I was doing by pretending to be William Carver.

    ¡°Huh?¡± He responded.

    ¡°I need you to come with me.¡± The player even got a pop-up box. His system message should say something about improved relations with Old Man Carver and a chain quest.

    ¡°Mister Carver?¡±

    ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s go.¡± I banged on the side of my chariot. Phil was at the helm. Even with my bad eyesight and I could see the orphan''s eyes roll. Moments later our cart, still in day one of testing, started into action down the path to my designated meeting spot. Phil had been skeptical this contraption would even work but it did, and well.

    The reward for inventing this device and putting it to use was even better. In a few weeks, after the other orders went through, the orphanage would have an entire chain of bicycles. Kids and bikes went together well even in fantasy land. I spent almost an hour this morning trying to explain how to pop a wheelie to the brash youth but so far the concept was lost. These things did weigh a bit more than standard bicycles.

    In one of the crossroads of town there were three other players waiting.

    ¡°What the hell is this about?¡± The most vocal one was the wide hipped woman who had been beating a straw man for Peg. Her words were loud enough to carry across the street.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m sure Mister Carver has a good reason.¡± The quiet younger female had been my first player, the trash picker.

    ¡°He better.¡± A younger male voice whispered through, this was my cow mooing would be assassin.

    ¡°He god damn well better or I¡¯ll kick his sorry old computer ass.¡± The angry wide hipped woman had her arms crossed and looked even more pissed than usual.

    ¡°Good, you''re all still here.¡± I said.

    ¡°What are we doing here?¡± Our new player asked.

    ¡°Awesome Jr. you¡¯re the last one. Hopefully this will be enough.¡± There was a certain amount of phrasing required to get this out without forfeiting too many points. Sounding grumpy helped.

    ¡°Good lord. This is your latest pick?¡± Wide hip was a player named HotPants, which was hilarious to me but her name paled compared to the other boy. She wore mail gear and had adopted a strange motif of red and blonde.

    The boy dressed in all black leather with two daggers tried to look aloft but his eyebrows were twitching in annoyance. He went by Shadow, and couldn¡¯t be more stereotypical in his look or method of acting. It would take a good year or two in game for him to really pull off the intimidating over the top anime persona he wanted to be.

    SweetPea was the younger woman. She was soft spoken and overly polite. A knitted hoodie was pulled down over one eye and long brown hair bunched up.

    ¡°Uhhh..¡± Awesome Jr. mumbled.

    ¡°Hi Adam.¡± SweetPea said with a faint smile.

    ¡°Oh. Is this your crush, Awesome?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Awesome''s my father. I mean wait, no! She¡¯s just a friend.¡± SweetPea was probably blushing too under that bundle she used to keep covered up. Kids today.

    ¡°Hah!¡± HotPants took time out of her normally angry attitude to laugh at the two children. My remark had lost me a point but was worth needling Awesome Jr. about.

    ¡°Good. Let''s try this again.¡± I exclaimed.

    ¡°That other boy ran away as soon as he read the quest.¡± Shadow grumbled almost as well as Carver.

    ¡°He was a wuss.¡± HotPants exclaimed. She was busy eyeing everything nearby. The last two weeks in game had turned her already angry personality into one that seemed to look for pots to break.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know that.¡±

    ¡°How do you do that whisper thing.¡± The older woman was poking her staff at Shadow with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°What?¡± Shadow asked while pushing at the Bo¡¯s end.

    ¡°The ¡®I¡¯ma big scary boy¡¯ voice. Like Batman.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not Batman.¡± The cow moo quest survivor said.

    ¡°You do kind of sound like Batman.¡± SweetPea responded just before pulling her hood down again.

    This was worse than herding cats. I activated a few of Old Man Carver''s skills just to talk over the crowd. [Intimidating Voice] and [Aura of Strength] had reductions due to an [Old Age] de-buff. It was enough to cut them off.

    ¡°Enough!¡±

    ¡°Yes sir, Mister Carver Sir!¡± Awesome Jr. was gazing off into the distance after performing an immediate solute. I just gave him a blink, the poor kid hadn¡¯t even been talking. HotPants was outright laughing. SweetPea looked embarrassed. Even Shadow had face palmed.

    ¡°Anyway. One of you explain. I¡¯m tired of trying.¡± I grumbled and ground my cane against the stone dirt.

    ¡°Can I go first? I want to get some more practice with this contraption while you all yack away like old hens.¡± Phil was chomping to be off and see what he could do with his new toy.

    ¡°Yes Phil.¡± The cheeky young boy was far too eager to test out this bike tour for money prospect. ¡°Don¡¯t try to sell that!¡±

    ¡°I know! Deal''s a deal''s, a deal, you old geezer!¡± The boy even jingled a bell I had installed. ¡°I''ll be back later!¡±

    ¡°Brat.¡± I muttered while grinding the cane. Phil had already vanished around some buildings.

    ¡°You made him a bike?¡± HotPants asked.

    ¡°Who knew, right? I wish I¡¯d thought of it.¡± Shadow responded with a gravelly voice.

    ¡°Nah, if NPCs figure it out, players won¡¯t get anywhere near the same rewards.¡±

    I was really starting to go crazy. Dealing with people in real life was one thing. As Hal Pal¡¯s companion I enjoyed a certain level of visibility. These jerks thought I was an NPC and just talked right over my head. When Continue saw fit to give me my own character, first thing would be hunting these players down and punching them in the face. At least Awesome Jr. was confused enough to not join in the banter. He was also the newest to this overall group. The others had hours of time while I had tried to find a fourth.

    ¡°Are you going to explain or not?¡± The game read my increased heart rate while marking the irritation with a status update.

    ¡°He looks unhappy.¡± SweetPea was too quietly demure for my tastes.

    ¡°So how are you doing Melissa?¡± SweetPea, or Melissa frowned at Awesome Jr for his casual usage of her name in a video game world. At least I assumed that was the reason for her frown.

    ¡°Melissa¡¯s a better name than SweetPea, you should own that.¡± HotPants threw one arm over the younger girl.

    ¡°Guys the NPC is going to fail us all on the quest if someone doesn¡¯t explain it.¡± For once I was grateful to Shadow, even if I had made him moo at a cow. Somehow the boy had fallen in with a Mercenary recruiting post. He already had a contract for employment once his introductory period was over.

    ¡°Fine! The robot here wants us to escort him through a Dungeon tonight.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a Dungeon in town?¡± Awesome Jr. tried to catch up with HotPants abrupt explanation.

    ¡°Right? This place is crazy. My son says there¡¯s always a few nearby, but the ones in town are typically event only.¡±

    ¡°You have a son?¡± Shadow sounded as confused as I felt. HotPants didn¡¯t seem like the mother type.

    ¡°Little jerk doesn¡¯t call often enough. He lives with his bastard father.¡± HotPants scowled. Her staff spun around and she started swinging at nothing. It was the same action I had seen her practice in the yard with Peg Hall. The motion was almost hypnotic.

    ¡°I hate him. Hate. Hate.¡±

    SweetPea slid away from the sudden violence.

    ¡°And?¡± Awesome Jr. watched HotPants with a bit of worry on his face but managed not to step away. Unlike Shadow who seemed almost eager to jump into the path. Was the kid a battle junkie? Was such a thing real? In the virtual world it was very likely. Slight pain was nothing compared to the thrill of competition. There were entire Internet video feeds dedicated to people competing in ARC''s spawned environments. Voices help me, players were clearly all crazy.

    ¡°It¡¯s called the Maze of Midnight, which only opens at, you guessed it, midnight. I asked my friends who started here, they never heard of it.¡± Shadow while bobbing his head in time with HotPants swing.

    ¡°Are you willing to help escort me to the end?¡± I cut to the point.

    ¡°Uhhh¡­sure Mister Carver.¡± Awesome Jr. was reading a pop up box that had suddenly appeared. ¡°But I don¡¯t know if any of us are any good yet.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure I can carry you.¡± Shadow said.

    ¡°Carver said we need four people.¡±

    ¡°What skills do you have?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been working with an alchemist. Basic potions. Most of them explode.¡± Awesome Jr. responded absently. He was still reading through the quest notes.

    ¡°So ranged damage? You got any magic yet?¡± Shadow was asking the questions. Thank goodness they were sorting out the group mechanics and stuff. My understanding of the game had grown in leaps and bounds over these last three weeks. All of it was so focused on William Carver''s day to day life that I missed how a player might do things.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s too hard.¡±

    ¡°Right? They expect you to sense something that isn¡¯t really there. Even the ARC isn¡¯t that good.¡± Shadow suddenly lost some of the gravelly tone to his voice in annoyance.

    ¡°I wanted to play one of those cat races. The tails look pretty.¡± SweetPea said.

    ¡°Can you imagine trying to make it move? The thing has to be automatically controlled or something.¡± Awesome Jr. was completely into it now with the younger two. Even HotPants seemed to be listening. All of them were geeks I swear.

    ¡°Ha!¡± HotPants wasn¡¯t laughing, she was swinging the staff even harder and building up a sweat. ¡°You¡¯re all idiots.¡±

    SweetPea had said nothing but just frowned.

    ¡°Why now Ma¡¯am?¡±

    ¡°Ma¡¯am? Jesus, you little son of a bitch.¡± She frowned and put away the staff. Awesome Jr. had just committed an awesome social crime.

    ¡°Oh. Yeah you¡¯re right HotPants.¡± SweetPea said.

    ¡°That¡¯s so weird to call someone HotPants.¡±

    ¡°Like Shadow''s any better?¡±

    ¡°Shadow the fifty second.¡± I muttered shaking my head. Honestly part of me wondered why there weren¡¯t way more than that. With this many people playing Continue Online, in one world, doubling up on names was a given.

    ¡°Whatever.¡± Shadow didn¡¯t hear my response and crossed his arms.

    ¡°We should just ask Mister Carver.¡± SweetPea looked excited.

    ¡°What?¡± Somehow two of them had come to a conclusion while I was completely oblivious. Social interactions in video games were far beyond my childhood. All the ARC software I had used were single player or movie renditions. This was just strange.

    Voices. When I got to play this game on my own I might completely avoid other people. Except Beth, I would try to involve myself in whatever crazy event she had planned.

    ¡°Mister Carver, sir. Can you help us find skills that would make it through this dungeon?¡±

    Actually that was a good idea. I took my time now, weighing out my own needs to complete the quest against Carver''s personality. This group of players probably could use all the assistance available to survive.

    ¡°Fine. But there¡¯s a time limit on my offer.¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t mention a time limit before.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s bull crap.¡± HotPants said. Both hands stood on her hips and she tried to glare down at my hunched body. I looked back up with one eye and grumbled while chewing at the inside of my lip.

    ¡°It¡¯s reality. Maybe you Travelers have eternity to goof around, but I don¡¯t.¡± Joy! That one line had earned me a full percentage point, bringing me up to seventy seven. There was now a real cushion between me and failure, plus it affirmed that this was the right track for completion.

    Being proactive was miles better than sitting around doing nothing. Finally, after weeks in game of barely shuffling along, I was making progress. I had to force myself to put everything in perspective. These last few weeks had focused on learning his history and personality. There was mild worth to it all but adventure was something completely different. Plus I was giving whoever had originally played William Carver a show. How many days were left on the Carver Countdown? Four? If we started now, how many nights could I spare, today, probably, tomorrow night then?

    "Fine. I''ll show you where anything is." What could I do if they abused this? Pull strings with Wyl? Would he kick players out of town for failing to come through? "You have until midnight tomorrow to get yourself sorted. After that, deal''s off."

    "Mister Carver Sir." SweetPea sounded hesitant but at least she spoke up. "What if we don''t make it back by Midnight?"

    "I go without you." Screw them. If these players didn''t want to help an old man finish his dungeon, I would do it myself. I didn''t really have time to waste.

    "That doesn''t seem like a good idea Mister Carver sir."

    "No. Fool computer wants to get killed. He''s just an old man, how is he going to kill anything?"

    "You idiots, William Carver is a Legendary NPC. Don''t you see the golden boarder?" Shadow said. I blinked, then scowled. Being checked out for my status felt dirty.

    "Bah. Midnight, tomorrow."

    "Is that midnight tonight, or midnight tomorrow night." Awesome Jr. asked with a stupefied look on his face. I wanted to beat him over the noggin with my cane but he would have to bend over quite a ways for my shoulder to get up high enough.

    All that practice with a sword at Peg''s only lasted a day at most. I had no clue what skills I might bring to the table. Even if this was a Beginner Dungeon I had to do something. Maps. Carver had maps and a cane. Books and tables and a pantry of preserved foods. Clothes were in dresser drawers. So far Continue hadn''t given me any sign of a personal inventory with any legendary items or other gear.

    "Midnight is midnight. You figure it out."

    Awesome Jr. stared off into space reading something. The only messages I saw other people''s interfaces were tied to quests and status updates. I couldn''t see their entire character sheet without using the [Identification] skill. Even that was vague when it came to a lot of details. Luckily these players were newbies so they didn''t have methods to obscure my prying.

    "You talk. Figure out what you need from me to make this work. I said I''d help you, and I meant it. But I don''t want to sit around here all day while you talk nonsense." I gave it my best cranky but fair tone.

    WWCD? Motivate decisively. The more I dealt with being this man, the more he felt like a grumpy project leader. What did his employees need, what did he need as lead. Everything was an exchange towards a group goal of improvement. His only soft spot seemed to be the children.

    "I don''t need anything." Shadow said with his guff voice.

    "Don''t pass this up." SweetPea shook her head slowly. That knitted cap had almost swallowed her up.

    "I want to learn to fight. That woman wouldn''t let me try my skills against anything real." HotPants was probably talking about Peg hall.

    "Fine."

    ¡°You can really get me someone to fight?¡±

    ¡°Probably. Let¡¯s get you going while those others figure things out.¡± The others kept talking as they followed behind me. HotPants was kind enough to stop her constant stream of annoying angry babbling. Maybe she was actually looking forward to this.

    More than once I had to completely ignore the player''s offers of assistance. They didn¡¯t like how slowed Old Man Carver meandered across town. We were headed for one of the guard posts near the main entrance and that took too long. I had to redirect this gaggle of idiots to their own needs more than once. At long last we made it to the guard post. It was basically a small wooden shelter that guards would use to hide from the sun or rest in public view. This was one of several such posts around the city of [Haven Valley].

    ¡°Wyl, are you here?¡± Luckily this was also the favored haunt of the guard captain Wyl. He tried to keep himself readily available near the entrance in case anything odd happened.

    ¡°Carver. What are you doing away from your post?¡±

    ¡°This is your idea of help?¡± HotPants was twitching. Her hands were one step away from pulling out the staff to start hitting things.

    ¡°Wyl. The lady here wants to fight something.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a Traveler right?¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°And you expect me to take her on patrol?¡± Wyl was quick on the uptake. He also seemed a little dubious about the player''s value.

    I nodded again.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The guard captain said.

    ¡°I can¡¯t even exit this stupid town! Every time I try the stupid computer blocks me!¡±

    My eyebrow went up while looking at Wyl. He had likely run into this situation quite a few times, especially since he hung out near the main door.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°The Voices restrict Traveler abilities simply because you need time to understand our world. Plus there¡¯s a matter of building up skills to survive the world outside.¡±

    ¡°I can defend myself just fine!¡±

    Wyl¡¯s eyes were tilted in concentration. Whatever programming guided the captain was checking for abilities. Those would be compared to some vague form of quest prerequisites. At least, that¡¯s what I assumed was happening. In reality most people seemed to believe that getting into a fight was stupid. Here inside the machine people''s looks and their abilities didn¡¯t match up.

    One player had recently made it to a Rank Three on the Archer path. He spent hours every day in front of a range operated by a training hall. In theory Rank Three was high for a newbie leaving town. Two was the average for those starting the combat path. There was an entire host of crafting ones, like Pie Master, that gauged things differently. Likely he would move on to another town via an escort if he needed to or make friends with a warrior in order to travel around serving as support.

    ¡°You might survive a quick tour, but you¡¯d be dead weight in any serious assault.¡± Wyl said.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°You would. You, beyond a doubt, would die over and over.¡± Wyl¡¯s tone didn¡¯t increase in volume. It was flat and sure. ¡°Strange Traveler powers and blessings from the Voices aside, you would die on anything serious. You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m considering taking you to clear some wolves out of the Royal forest.¡±

    I watched a box pop up in front of HotPants. She looked confused and upset at the same time.

    ¡°This will get me out of town? If I accept?¡±

    ¡°I have the authority to provide a temporary pass as long as you¡¯re escorted.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t anyone tell me sooner?¡± HotPants growled.

    ¡°You probably didn¡¯t ask the right people. Attitude doesn''t get you far around here.¡± Wyl said without even a trace of a frown. He was unfazed by the bundle of anger.

    ¡°Will you be done by tomorrow?¡± My body was feeling the weight of today''s excursions. Both hands used the cane as a third leg.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send a squad on an overnight with her. It¡¯ll be a good change for all of them.¡± The trademark smile was still mostly present on Wyl''s face.

    ¡°Think you got someone who can keep her in line?¡± I lifted the cane in a halfhearted gesture towards HotPants. The other players were in the background arguing over something still. They had barely taken notice of our stop.

    ¡°Probably not. But if she steps too far out, she¡¯ll die. The aggressive ones normally solve their own problems.¡±

    ¡°Mh.¡± I turn to HotPants and glare for a moment.

    ¡°If you die tomorrow, you won¡¯t be able to recover in time. You best be careful.¡±

    ¡°As if I need a computer to be concerned for my well being.¡±

    I shrugged in response. Her commentary against me was both amusing and annoying. Amusing because she thought I was a computer, but annoying for the same reason. My acting as William Carver had flaws, but he was a person too!

    ¡°Most Travelers find death unpleasant, you¡¯ll learn soon enough.¡± Wyl said.

    ¡°Pain is a great teacher.¡± Old Man Carver''s simulated heart attacks were enough to send me to my knees. I can¡¯t imagine death felt any better. The only blessing would be if it was sudden and not lingering.

    ¡°Why does a video game have pain?¡± SweetPea was paying attention now.

    ¡°Because it¡¯s awesome.¡± Awesome Jr. whispered.

    ¡°No pain, no gain.¡± Shadow affirmed. ¡°Check out Stanford''s study on the Pain Response and Learning in a Virtual Simulation.¡±

    ¡°Two hours from now I¡¯ll send a group out. You get whatever you think you need together and be here in an hour thirty. We¡¯ll need time to go over whatever supplies you missed.¡± Wyl was already issuing orders, which seemed to grind HotPants'' gears something fierce. She suffered through in stride with a curt nod and charged off.

    ¡°See you tomorrow!¡± SweetPea gave an impressive yell for her personality. I shrugged and went over my mental map for other possible training locations.

    ¡°Got anything for more speed?¡± Shadow was busy pulling at pieces of his gear and frowning. His shirt seemed to be riding up under the overlay of armor.

    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t need anything.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t. But I¡¯ll take anything you¡¯ve got.¡± The wanna be assassin growled at my snide remark.

    ¡°I know a man who''s really good at teaching young cocky boys how to dress.¡± He would outfit the player in literal dresses with makeup and everything. There was nothing in my book against cross dressing but I imagine it was a surprise if revealed at the wrong moment.

    He actually looked thoughtful for a moment. I sighed, the youngster probably thought it was a disguise art of some sort. He clearly seemed to be going the extra mile for his ninja image. I briefly compiled a list of possible skills needed for a Ninja Path, assuming there was such a thing. It seemed very like that there was.

    ¡°No, if we¡¯re going into a dungeon, I need speed, or stealth. Both preferably.¡± Shadow was at least certain in what he wanted to take away form this game. Many players lacked the drive he displayed.

    ¡°Mh.¡± I hummed and pulled out the map. Skills that combined traits were harder to nail down on the map. Often times they required the players to actively combine tasks.

    ¡°You should follow the recruits around.¡± Wyl said.

    ¡°What? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°New guards, I send them out on running laps around the town with their armor on. It helps build their endurance, especially for the ones bucking for a promotion to a knight squad.¡± Wyl''s face shone with a smile. There was a glint of pride in his eyes. Carver''s, my screen, popped up a message about Wyl''s pride in his former students successes. There was even a count of how many former soldiers and Traveler trainees went onto to other occupations.

    ¡°That¡¯s cruel.¡± SweetPea said.

    ¡°It¡¯s effective, you should try it too little miss. Travelers should take advantage of everything they can.¡± The guard captain said.

    ¡°So you think I should follow a guard around?¡± Shadow turned the conversation back to his own personal needs. One hand fiddled with the dagger at his hip idly. I could see Wyl keeping an eye out but he didn¡¯t seem too worried.

    ¡°Let¡¯s make a game of it, you give the guard a short head start, then try to trail him without getting caught.¡±

    ¡°What do I get out of it?¡±

    ¡°You win, I¡¯ll give you a handful of silver per person. You lose, and my trainee gets to stop their lap and come on back.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll accept that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a big town.¡± Wyl said with a faint smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m in. We doing this all night?¡± The would be assassin also looked pleased but for entirely selfish reasons.

    ¡°Night time patrols will change a little because of the risk, we¡¯ll see how you do on the first few.¡± The captain shrugged. He didn¡¯t seem overly worried either way. ¡°I¡¯ve got other ideas to keep it interesting if it¡¯s too easy.¡±

    ¡°Awesome.¡±

    ¡°Awesome''s my father.¡± Awesome Jr. was smiling too. How many times could he play that joke before becoming annoying?

    ¡°Shut up.¡± Shadow scowled for a moment, looking remarkably similar to HotPants level of anger. ¡°Wyl right? Thanks for this, it sounds fun and like a good training method.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll help my men learn a few skills too, spotting a trail is good for undercover work if any of them want to join a King''s Inquisition.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Shadow asked.

    ¡°Wyl, I¡¯m going to drag these other two onward. Thank you for your time.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right, here I am just gabbing away. Anytime Carver. You keep in good health.¡± Wyl didn¡¯t seem done though. His mouth just kept right on running as he slowly came to our side of the guard post and put an arm on my shoulder.

    ¡°Me and the boy saw your posting, and the ladies in the temple are in a tizzy over your recent actions. I said to them, let an old man do what he wants with the twilight years. It¡¯s what I¡¯d want.¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Let me die with a sword in my hand and a prayer on my lips. Not a whimper in my bed.¡± Wyl shook his head and looked sad for a moment. This became one of the few times I saw him without a smile of some sort.

    ¡°Sounds like a good plan.¡± The people in this world were lucky that way. In the real world we rarely had a warrior''s way out. Modern medicine kept the old alive and feeble. Carver would want to go out with a bang, not a whisper. That¡¯s exactly what William Carver, what I, would do.

    ¡°Hah! Carver, whatever you¡¯ve cooked up, you give ¡®em hell for me!¡±

    ¡°I will Wyl.¡± Saying that was almost a miniature tongue twister. Wyl went from hot to cold very quickly depending on who he was talking to. His minions, I mean lesser guards, were treated very different from an old war buddy.

    At least I think that¡¯s what our relationship was. The notes needed another review. This world had thrown some many bits of information at me that I was nearly drowning. Work tomorrow would suck simply because of the mundane nature in comparison.

    Just a few more dominoes left. Then we would see where everything fell. Thank goodness the Voice of Gambling and his negative buff hadn¡¯t impacted Old Man Carver''s stats. Being this tired and walking around with nagging pain everywhere was enough of a punishment.

    If I could use Carver''s skills to the fullest, without negative side effects, then clearing this dungeon would be easy. Speaking of cake, where was the [Messenger''s Pet]?

    ¡°Mister Carver sir.¡± SweetPea sounded demure again. It was annoying and sort of cute at the same time.

    ¡°What is it?¡± I grumbled.

    ¡°Do you have any suggestions for me?¡±

    ¡°Nope. You need to figure out what you want for yourself. Not me. No one is required to follow a path. You make a choice and work hard.¡± Not once had I forced any player to learn a skill, aside from whatever resulted from the introduction quests.

    ¡°I really only know cleaning though.¡± She sounded sad and pulled the hoodie down even more.

    ¡°Your meatloaf was really good, Melissa.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Adam.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I should just leave you two alone.¡± Carver was very good at sounding grumpy, even if I personally felt like teasing people. It just came out that way.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay Carver. We should try to do something to help make this better. None of the other players even tried to help you with the flier, so I feel kind of bad forcing you to figure out something on your own.¡±

    I was completely stunned by Awesome Jr¡¯s statement. While it was true that no one had really tried to help me, the fact that he felt guilt towards an NPC was almost overpowering. My rueful grin at his new pop up box was response enough. From this angle I could easily see the reputation with ¡®William (Old Man) Carver¡¯ increase and wasn¡¯t even upset. Awesome Jr. had been serious about it.

    I nodded again.

    ¡°Did you still want to learn magic?¡±

    ¡°I tried that, and failed.¡± His head actually dipped and hung in depression.

    ¡°Who did you talk to?¡±

    ¡°Shandra Tull, she was the one my quest chain led to.¡± SweetPea was looking at Awesome Jr. with one eyebrow high under her hood.

    ¡°Yeah. She was nice, and gave me a few books, but nothing really clicked.¡±

    Shandra wasn¡¯t actually a mage of any sort according to my notes. She was more of a hedge witch with a steep learning curve. I idly followed the markings all over town and found a few good starter methods for learning magic. Of course doing that made me feel like a dirty cheater with a personal walk through but I was also Old Man Carver, guide to the new and confused. The balance was strange.

    ¡°You might be missing something.¡± Teeth chewed on one lip in thought.

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°Mh. Not everything is as simple as learning abilities right away, not even for Travelers.¡± How should I explain a topic I barely understood? William Carver had no access to magic or any sort of alternate energy form. According to his skills everything went ¡®swing the big sword, swing it some more, swing it harder and scream!¡¯.

    ¡°Come on. Come.¡± We took another trip slowly. The sun was setting and I was getting extremely tired. Plus being out too late would get me in trouble with my progress bar. If this quest attempt failed I would need every point available.

    ¡°Need a ride, Geezer?¡± A bell from the bicycle dinged a few times as Phil navigated the metal device to a halt nearby.

    ¡°Phil. It¡¯s about time.¡± I loaded myself into the cart''s plush seating. Moments later I had a map out and was jabbing one finger at the meditation cave from earlier.

    ¡°Can you get us here?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty beat. Maybe to the base of the hill here, but any further up? No. Not on this thing.¡± Phil was wearing a slight frown and both eyebrows creased together.

    ¡°That¡¯s good enough.¡±

    ¡°Fine, but deal''s a deal''s a deal right? Bike''s all ours after today?¡±

    ¡°As long as it stays with the orphanage.¡± I nodded.

    ¡°Of course geezer. The other kids wanted to ride around before lights out, figured we could take them on trips.¡± Phil was talking really fast. ¡°Mylia wants to use it as a reward to those who help out.¡±

    ¡°You take her up on that.¡±

    ¡°Hah! If we had a few more of these then the older kids wouldn¡¯t be worried about jobs.¡±

    That, my dear Phil, was the entire plan. I wanted the orphan kids to have something to do for money while growing up, plus bikes were just cool for children.

    ¡°Seriously Mister Carver, I can¡¯t believe you made a bicycle.¡±

    ¡°You Travelers aren¡¯t the only ones with brains.¡± Phil shouted back at us. The cart was going entirely too fast for me, but Carver''s body rode it out like it was a standard day.

    Icons and text boxes for riding skills and safety checks appeared. More pluses and minuses from the state of our cart showed up. Phil''s driving skills were even factored into it somewhere. Poor SweetPea and Awesome Jr. had no idea what to think. The girl clutched at her knitted hat and Awesome Jr. was almost a dog sticking his head out the window.

    After a slew of bumps and awkwardly broken up conversations we arrived at the cave. This place was south of the town¡¯s main gate. Close enough to be part of [Haven Valley] but very much out of the way.

    ¡°What are we out here for?¡±

    I squinted through trees and brush up the hill. Phil was laying over the handle bars puffing in gasps of air. Poor boy had worked hard today. A routine involving morning stretches would help.

    ¡°Up there.¡± I lifted the cane and pointed towards a ledge.

    ¡°What¡¯s up there?¡±  Awesome Jr''s neck looked funny being tilted so far back.

    ¡°A cave.¡± Dirt, rocks, some plants. I felt empathy for Williams abrasiveness when dealing with Travelers. Where had their adventurous spirit gone? Had it been bred out of humanity?

    ¡°Caves have bats.¡± He protested.

    ¡°It¡¯s just bats.¡± SweetPea looked confused. Awesome Jr. was afraid of bats?

    ¡°They poop everywhere.¡± He said.

    ¡°Gross.¡±

    ¡°This cave has more than bats.¡± I didn¡¯t even try to sound reassuring. Carver didn¡¯t do reassuring! WWCD? Grump and shrug!

    ¡°Why go to it?¡±

    ¡°Go as deep as you can into the cave. Spend the entire night.¡± SweetPea went red, but not as red as Awesome Jr. I lowered my eyebrows in a level glare.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a romantic date. It¡¯s a place to train.¡± The two of them had that annoying young love glaze that turned everything lovey. It was best to put a halt to that right away.

    ¡°Will we learn magic?¡± She asked. Her mouth curled in an excited smile.

    ¡°You¡¯ll learn something. What you take away is up to you.¡± One of my shoulders came up in a half shrug. The other was too stiff to move properly. Magic was one of the possible outcomes according to Carver''s map. There were many others as well, each one a slightly different flavor.

    ¡°How come you never told us about this place?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t ask the right questions. No one ever does.¡± I didn¡¯t ask James the right questions most of the time. It was more fun to treat our conversations as a lax chat rather than an interrogation. These would be the first players I guided to this cave since becoming Carver.

    ¡°I¡¯m in, how about you Adam?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re going.¡± Poor boy was still red faced. I smirked as they retreated into the distance. Surprisingly, sending them off together earned me a few more points on the progress bar.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Progress: 80%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Come on Phil. I need to go home.¡±

    ¡°No can do Geezer, Mylia wanted you to drop by tonight.¡± Phil responded with half his normal cheek. He still looked winded. I sighed. Timing was never convenient. Not when it really mattered.

    ¡°You can take the slow route then.¡±

 Book 1, Memories; Session Fifteen - Unaware Farewell

    <cite></cite>Whistling is hard with half chapped lips. Old Man Carver also couldn¡¯t carry a tune to save his life. I couldn¡¯t hear one either, at least not without an extremely loud tone. We passed by a man in the park who looked like he was trying to woo [Coo-Coo Rill]s with his voice.

    Phil commented on how terrible he sounded, I just grunted because none of the noise had made it to me. Even the man¡¯s shape was a pleasant blur. Reactions like Phil¡¯s are why I avoided dancing in public back in the real world. Too much judgment abounded in our world of instantly uploaded videos and attention mongering. Here, inside Continue Online, was easier. More than once I had taken Carver''s body through a slow jig of happiness. Plus dancing a jig is kind of fun.

    I enjoyed irritating Phil with my own terrible whistle between the cave of mysteries and Mylia¡¯s orphanage. Though neither name was accurate. Cave of mysteries had a nice ring to it. Better than [Maze of Midnight].

    ¡°Thank the Voices. Home. Finally.¡± Phil was beyond tired. His legs had slowly dwindled to half spastic jerks.

    ¡°Careful with your balance.¡±

    ¡°I know. I know.¡± He huffed.

    ¡°Bicycles take even a Traveler time to learn. Stretch first.¡± That was me talking, not Carver, I was almost forced to do stretches every time I exited the ARC or risk problems. ¡°Make sure the younger kids don¡¯t try to run off without supervision.¡±

    ¡°I know. I know.¡±

    Neat. I was really getting into this role of being a nagging old man. Though my behavior wasn¡¯t entirely accurate for a Carverism.

    ¡°And money up front when working.¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± The youngsters head was hanging down in that sulk children do.

    ¡°And you¡¯ll need a map.¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± Phil paused and blinked a few times. ¡°Wait. What? You never said anything about a map.¡±

    ¡°Here. I can¡¯t be doing this forever.¡± I handed over one of the maps Carver had. During the last five days I verified that this one actually displayed information. The rest was at Carver''s house. That place was filled to the brim with notes and bits of information.

    ¡°Wait what?¡±

    ¡°Ehhh.¡± I ignored Phil and slowly lowered myself out of the cart, cane and a tentative foot first until my landing was secure. Then everything shifted onto tired hips.

    ¡°What is this all about Geezer?¡±

    Phil¡¯s questioning tone was ignored while my feet shuffled towards the door. Sunlight had nearly completely vanished. Hopefully everyone was doing alright with their individual training methods. That Cave was probably going to be the worst of the trials. Though Wyl likely had a few tricks up his sleeve to keep Shadow guessing.

    ¡°Geezer?¡± Phil sounded urgent.

    I think he was Shadow the fifty-second. That was the count James had given me.

    ¡°Geezer!¡±

    The next mystery was Mylia standing in the doorway with an upset expression. Even these tired eyes could make out a half frown and hip tilt of annoyance.

    ¡°Phil, you leave him alone and go get the littles ready for bed!¡± She pointed one finger at him then gestured to the back of her orphanage.

    ¡°It¡¯s Jane and Jill''s turn!¡±

    ¡°Go help them or I¡¯ll whack you!¡± Mylia wasn¡¯t getting any better these last few days. A few weeks ago she seemed pleasant and polite, but now she was tired and irritable. I let the whole woman¡¯s issue slide right out of my mind and hobbled up to the door.

    ¡°Mister Carver.¡±

    ¡°Mylia. You wanted to see me?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to ask you what you¡¯re trying to make these children do. They¡¯ve been driving me bonkers for days with your silly story request.¡± I imagined a serious expression across her face but couldn¡¯t really make one out in the blurry light.

    ¡°Mh.¡± I clanked the cane against her walkway gravel while pondering what to do.

    ¡°Seriously, after all this time, why would you make such an absurd request?¡±

    ¡°I have my reasons.¡± Many reasons, in the form of quests and desperate attempts. None of that would be sensible to tell Mylia. My tired eyes glared at the woman.

    Stress was wearing her down and all of it was likely from me. I sighed. One hand reached inside of Carver''s robe to pull out one of his trophies. This was a prize found while digging around for a proper sword. Anything that might help me with the [Maze of Midnight] mission. Too bad there had been no such weapon lying around. Old Man Carver''s list of belongings didn¡¯t even include a long trail of twine to lay out.

    His best gear was probably off in some invisible inventory pocket that was unreachable to me. Drat. I bet he had some superb equipment. Oh well, that was why I gathered four players for this escort quest. Plus it felt very game like to be giving newbies this sort of chance. Apparently the Voices thought so as well or there wouldn¡¯t keep being pop up boxes for my actions. I had a feeling that they could kibosh the whole thing anytime they wanted to. Especially that Drill Sergeant who shouted spittle into my face. That guy would probably pull the plug immediately given a choice.

    I let a mental prayer go to the future robot overlords and once again boasted about my polishing skills. Hal Pal would probably get a kick out of this whole thing. For an AI it had a surprisingly wide range of amusement. One day after work I caught the robot shell viewing kitten movies with a confused expression. That had been an interesting van ride home, with me explaining to a computer why kittens were cute.

    ¡°Whatever your reasons are, it¡¯s no good to the kids. They loved your stories and now you¡¯ve just stopped telling any.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve never tried to tell you stories?¡±

    ¡°Well they do.¡± Her frown was extremely obvious as her eyes gazed into the distance. She was probably remembering prior experiences with the little ones. Children always babbled about something.

    ¡°All I¡¯m asking them for is a story. Just one new one, about anything they want it to be.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why. Why change things now?¡±

    ¡°Because things change, Mylia. They always have, and always will. Someone has to be able to tell stories if I¡­¡± I had become too invested into the moment. That wasn¡¯t Carver speaking, it was me. I dared to look at my progress bar and had noticed a small red negative mark. William Carver didn¡¯t like to admit his own mortality. Well screw him, mortality existed. That negative point was one I would argue to the grave.

    ¡°That¡¯s no good Mister Carver. What will the children do if you go away?¡±

    ¡°Life goes on Mylia. We don¡¯t always get to say goodbye.¡±

    Mylia looked worried but made no move to leave the doorway. She was clearly blocking my entrance into the orphanage. Either Mylia blocked me out of annoyance or worry about our conversation being unfinished.

    ¡°Here. I found this. It seemed like something you should have.¡± I pulled out a necklace of scales. The scales were heavy things. Even with all the strength Carver had they almost tore off my arm to lift. Carrying them around in my robe all day had been torture.

    ¡°What are these?¡±

    ¡°Yours. To do with what you will.¡± There was no mistaking the fiery spark in her eye. Mylia was slowly growing upset, even beyond upset. Her face had almost twisted to inhuman rage. My old eyes could make out some details against the fading light. There was a ripple on her forehead, for a moment both eyes gleamed golden.

    Carefully using [Identification] I gained a bit more information which confirmed a hunch. Mylia was somehow a half dragon. That was why talk of my dragon slaying days had upset her so much. I applied every badly written movie plot available to this situation over the last few days in order to reach this conclusion. Clearly it had been a logic leap on my part.

    That and one of the players I sent on a quest to do reconnaissance said she had a near fit over some meats. I figured her to be a carnivore of some sort but never seen her eat anything that looked like it came from an animal. Had the computer generated a half dragon vegan or something? That would be a neat reason for her to be so peaceful with humans.

    My follow up question was simple. What the heck was a half dragon NPC doing running an orphanage? I had suspicions, and maybe three days left to solve them, assuming this dungeon went well.

    ¡°What do you suggest I do with this?¡± The scales in her hand had come from William Carver''s one dragon kill. They were theoretically ripped from the soft spot under its chin.

    ¡°Give them the respect I never did.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Her face twisted and this time it wasn¡¯t anger. Not completely. The redness that had been building up washed away to a pale tone. Her eyes widened.

    ¡°There¡¯s a price.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Even her words turned almost soft. This was more like the Mylia I had first met. Calm, happy. I felt like things were going in the right direction.

    ¡°One day, I expect you to tell a story as well.¡±

    ¡°And what tale would you expect of me?¡±

    ¡°Yours.¡± I stunned the NPC speechless. Go me! My quest bar had taken a jump with that declaration. Offering the trophy scales in exchange for progress with Mylia was exactly what the AI¡¯s expected. Too bad now I was losing progress due to staying out past nightfall.

    ¡°Do we have a deal?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­¡± She faded off and looked at the scales in her hands again. This time she was almost cradling them. ¡°I¡¯ll think on it. Good and proper this time, Mister Carver.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll have to do.¡±

    There was another pause, far more pleasant as Mylia seemed lost in thought. After a moment she gave a small smile and stepped to the side. Guess the gesture recovered myself to her good graces.

    ¡°Will you be staying?¡±

    ¡°Not tonight, Mylia Jacobs. I¡¯ve lived long enough to know when a woman needs her space.¡± Her smile faltered for a moment but then she nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be off then. If the Voices are kind, we¡¯ll talk again soon.¡±

    Only as I turned away did it occur to me how fatalistic that came out. There was a very good chance Carver could make it through everything that might happen. Sitting on a bench all day to survive was still an option. Yet, Carver hadn¡¯t been that sort of person. He sat on a bench to help new players, not to avoid trouble.

    I let the autopilot function take a meandering path home and logged out of my ARC. There was only so much prep work that could be done within the world of Continue. The rest was would be notes that Phil could deliver around town tomorrow just before the dungeon attempt. Old Man Carver''s penmanship was barely legible.

    My house was quiet save for the ARC¡¯s hum of energy. Everything was in its place. Nothing had been moved or touched.  I think that was the worst part of losing my fianc¨¦e. The portion of, of everything, used to be filled with her. Those first few nights utterly alone had been awkward. Loneliness didn¡¯t hit until a few weeks later. Soon I had started purging reminders chunks at a time. Clothing was the easiest to get rid of. Books went next. She had owned a small shelf with honest to god paperbacks. Most of them were scientific in nature, blueprints of spaceships and other things. The feel of paper helped her study easier. She had wanted to go on the Mars Colony Projects with a blazing intensity. There was no room on such a thing for a number cruncher like me but if she¡¯d gone they would have trained me in something too. I would have swept hallways for her.

    I grabbed a coffee and stared out my front window while wondering about the roads not traveled. Trying not to dwell on the choices made to lead where I was. ¡®What if¡¯ was a dangerous game for those who suffered. What if I had made her stay home just one extra day? What if I had convinced her to go on a plane or take the tunnels? Even an hour later on the next train out?

    Any number of actions could have changed the future. Therapy had helped me through some of the sadness. Most of it was time to grieve and realize that I had no way to predict disaster. I was no seer who could foresee the future. I was no psychic who could sense impending doom. I was just a sad man with a belly that had gotten too big in a house that was too quiet.

    This whole chain of thoughts was really Awesome Jr. and SweetPea¡¯s fault. Their sappy, shy love story was enough to dig up wounds. They clearly played this game to be with each other or at least Awesome Jr. did. Hopefully he confessed sometime tonight. If things went right they would walk out ready to challenge the world tomorrow. I smiled. Dungeon crawling would be a neat first date. Carver''s journals stated adventures with pretty ladies almost always resulted in happy endings.

    ¡°Mh.¡± Great. Carver''s grumbling had invaded my quiet coffee contemplation time.

    ¡°Mh.¡± I made the noise again. A smile grew on my face. Being grumpy in real life might be kind of fun. It was better than being a sad wounded puppy.

    ¡°Grr!¡± I tried to scowl like HotPants did but just ended up laughing at myself. That woman was a bundle of misplaced anger. I would find her later on, once I was me and not Carver, then tell her that I wasn''t an NPC. Crud. Was there a non-disclosure clause on my time as Old Man Carver?

    My single serving of coffee was almost out. Experiments with caffeine and long term ARC immersion had been inconclusive. For my dance program the energy helped keep me focused. In Continue nothing was clear. The time perception warp was playing havoc with my senses. Alarms would be set up first thing. Just to make sure I didn¡¯t somehow play til dawn and then try to go to work. Even a quick catnap in the company van would barely solve that problem.

    I stood up to grab another cup. The timer on my watch gave me an hour before Carver woke up for the morning. I had play the game personally to ensure Carver got a nap as well. Otherwise staying up for the [Maze of Midnight] would be near impossible.

    The second cup was saved for mulling over HotPants as a person. She clearly had some issues in the real world. Abusive ex-spouse if I were to guess. Everything gave hints as to her nature outside the ARC. A general distaste for being given orders, the desire to learn self-defense, short temper. Maybe I was over reading it. She could just be a naturally violent person. Or simple rage issues due to a bad divorce.

    They weren¡¯t all as straight forward as Pie Master. That man had shouted for joy at being able to learn cooking. He had gone on for almost an hour about how the real world had lost its flare when it came to meal time. Pie Master loved desserts the most. Half his reasoning had to do with a grandmother who taught him to make a cake when he was eight.

    Some people were that simple.

    Shadow I didn¡¯t even worry about. That man was set on an image. He would follow it out to the end. Voices it was hard to call him and Awesome Jr. men. They were technically. From Carver''s point of view, the one I had been pretending to have for weeks, they were barely out of diapers.

    ¡°Heh.¡± Continue was fun and frustrating. Even this strange unorthodox way of playing had value. It was a hobby that didn¡¯t involve self-torture. That last thought came out entirely too moody, I needed some music.

    I fired up something with a swing to it and bobbed around my front room. Moving hurt more than a normal day, but less than Carver''s standard fair. These exercise bracelets were doing a number on me. My abs ached in places they wouldn¡¯t normally care about.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°ARC!¡± I was in another room but the thing would hear me. There was a repeater and projector in this room. Trillium employees had access to all the neat toys.

    ¡°Awaiting Input.¡±

    ¡°Fire up some reviews of the EXR-Sevens. And the user¡¯s manual, whatever section that explains if I need to take them off or not.¡±

    ¡°Searching. Data retrieved. Displaying.¡± The projection ball in the top of my front room took over one of the walls with an image.

    ¡°Visual only.¡± I cut of the ARC¡¯s automatic playback of the text. My music was more important. Reading and jiving at the same time was second nature. Even if moving made me wince from sore muscles.

    According to the information, my EXR-Sevens could just stay on. Trillium had configured the things to recharge using wireless signals. That was super neat, but not new. My watch operated on the same thing. Heck, this technology had been in the works decades ago. The real kicker was how EXR-Sevens measured biometric data for an entire body adjustment program.

    I guess the ARC wasn¡¯t just a pretty box with games and porn. No. This machine measured a person''s current status, their responses, and progressed differently for everyone. Some of the reviews went on to suggest a super human software that would just automatically adjust your body over time. People hoped soon to plug in and be the hulk a few years later with no effort required.

    Turned out the EXR-Seven wasn¡¯t as cure all. The body needed resistance of some sort to build mass, but the bands succeeded at burning calories and weight loss. Combine it with a diet and the jump was still very good. It was a shame, but humanity hadn¡¯t invented a perfect method for body image. It was still a matter of exercise right and eat clean.

    Trillium forced people to play physical programs of some sort to keep the EXR-Seven functioning. According to the user''s manual they would shut off if you just slept all day, or watched movies in the ARC. Not a complete freebie, but still, useful. My niece Beth did manage to keep herself in shape. I glanced over a couple of other advertisements and even saw the official one from Trillium. It played like a late night infomercial.

    ¡°Before EXR-Seven I was a complete butterball, now all the ladies want me!¡± The vocals overrode my music and annoyed me. I waved at the mute option and stared downward.

    ¡°Soon.¡± I patted my gut and gave a chuckle.

    ¡°Bah. Maybe I should eat better too.¡± Nonsense, food was god! Though I bet there were programs that could offer me tasty alternatives at my normal food stops.

    An alarm cut the music out.

    ¡°Oh!¡± I set the coffee cup into my sink and shuffled eagerly to the ARC. Morning was approaching in Carver land! I had a full day of trying to figure out penning memos with a quill.

    Quickly I washed my face and cleaned up a bit. This next haul inside Continue would be at least four hours of real world time or a day inside. More, if this dungeon was a longer adventure.

    Darkness preceded my transition to William Carver''s body.

    ¡°Yo, Grant Legate. Just the man I was hoping to see.¡± The words sounded vaguely like every frat boy in existence from my college years.

    ¡°Mh?¡± I spun, looked down at myself, back up, and back down in confusion. Then my eyes traveled around the room. Finally it dawned on me that this was not William Carvers body, but my own.

    ¡°Oh. Here again.¡± This was the trial room, or Voice playground, or space between. I would figure out a neat name one day.

    ¡°You¡¯re the Traveler that¡¯s taking care of my man Wild Willy.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s new.¡± One eyebrow went up. The voice was vaguely familiar. I squinted into the blackness of this place trying to pick out which Voice was talking.

    ¡°Leeroy?¡± I guessed.

    ¡°In the flesh.¡±

    ¡°Or not. I need a light.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Right. Humans.¡±

    ¡°Let there be light!¡± Leeroy, at least I think it was Leeroy, shouted and darkness receded. The adjustment was interestingly painless. Sure enough, the giant hulk of a man with his broadsword stood nearby. Under him was the carcass of some great hairy beast.

    ¡°Are there races that can see in the dark?¡±

    ¡°Vampires. It¡¯s sweet, if you¡¯re in to the whole blood sucking thing. Good fighters when they¡¯re not Travelers dressing up in drab clothes. There¡¯s two of them and they constantly try to out whine each other. Can¡¯t wait til we get some more.¡±

    ¡°Oh. There¡¯s a Voice for vampires?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a Voice for everything. We got one for talking Mushrooms. But you mean Jean.¡± Maybe Leeroy was high on something. Maybe he was just prone to mood swings. Maybe he really was a college frat boy. The way he talked about a woman so nonchalantly was amazing.

    ¡°Jean?¡±

    Leeroy thumbed over his shoulder.

    ¡°You¡¯re not really mah type, sugar.¡± Oh look, the woman with a robe of red flowing liquid. The first time I had seen her was with a spinning Jester. I shuddered for a moment in expectation but was thankfully let down.

    ¡°Vampire?¡± I pointed at the fading image of a pale skinned brunette.

    ¡°Of a sort.¡± She smiled, waved, and faded out.

    ¡°Are all the women here so¡­¡±

    ¡°Intense? Negative.¡± Leeroy shrugged. ¡°Got personalities. Initia¡¯s got a mouth on her. I¡¯d follow her anywhere, greatest, plot, ever.¡± Leeroy didn¡¯t mean plot. Not with that twist on his tone. Giant hands going up in air to clutch at his chest was also a giveaway.

    ¡°So. How can I help you Leeroy?¡± My tone switched to full customer service mode. This wasn''t just a random interaction between people, this had all the air of a business meeting. With a college going meat head. There were worse clients.

    ¡°My man Wild Willy, you¡¯re doing good by him.¡± He gave me an exagerated thumbs up and looked like he was a step away from demanding a high five.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying. It¡¯s been hard.¡±

    ¡°No joke. Balance is a bitch. Got him all feebed.¡± Something swung into being behind his head. A cross? No, something giant and wearing heels while stomping downward. That was the biggest leg I had ever seen. I flinched as it collided with the back of Leeroy¡¯s form.

    ¡°See! You¡¯re a total buzzkill! Now my man Grant Legate¡¯s seen it! I got a witness!¡± Leeroy was shaking his fist upwards towards the sky. Thundering sounded in the distance.

    ¡°You too Selena!¡±

    I felt keeping my playful commentary to a minimum was good. James hadn¡¯t shown up to defend me so he might be elsewhere. Plus none of this had really been directed towards me. I got the feeling Leeroy pissed more people off than he helped.

    ¡°Did you want to talk about William?¡± After all, Leeroy had intercepted my log in process. There had bee no interruption during my last few returns to Continue. This space between was rare.

    ¡°Yeah. Wild Willy.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Anyway. Tonight, I guess you¡¯re doing this place, the whole Maze thing right?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan.¡±

    ¡°Good Good. Here¡¯s the deal. You go in there, you¡¯re in for a trip. Me and the others,¡± Leeroy thumbed to the blackness behind him. ¡°we¡¯re doing what we can to make it epic. Failing epicosity, it¡¯ll catch my man Wild Willy right here.¡± He thumped his chest and managed to look a bit sad.

    ¡°So he¡¯s still alive.¡±

    ¡°Course he is. Just steps shy of being a vegetable, but he¡¯s in there with you.¡± Leeroy¡¯s arm came across the gulf, impossibly large and poked the side of my noggin. ¡±That last heart attack turned him into a drooler.¡±

    I rubbed at my head while mourning my health bar''s dip. Just a single halfhearted poke from this Voice had knocked off a quarter of my game life.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡±

    ¡°Good man, good. It needs a human touch. We could play something out, but it wouldn¡¯t be the same. I, well me and the others, we like what you¡¯re doing for us.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± This was strangely like talking to former bosses. There was an entire catalog of thoughts going through my mind that couldn¡¯t be said out loud.

    ¡°Anyway, tonight, if you get through the maze, at the end, it¡¯ll be too much for those plebs you picked up.¡± Leeroy frowned down at me. The man was just too big compared to normal sized folks.

    ¡°This place is that dangerous?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just not for them. Not yet. This one¡¯s for Wild Willy. We put together something special like. Pulled a few strings to make it work.¡±

    ¡°Leeroy, don¡¯t give away too much, we need his actions to be as honest as possible.¡± James appeared nearby with a slight frown. I nodded and kept eye contact with Leeroy.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. I was going to do my best anyway.¡± Both my hands went up in a gentle stop motion.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid in there man. I know you¡¯re not like Wild Willy, he had the kind of stones that are rare in both worlds.¡± Leeroy grasped at his genitals with one hand and jiggled them around. ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to reach down deep.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± Now I was really unsure. I was trying to stick to this WWCD mentality. Learning inside and out how the man performed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Grant Legate. Everything will work out.¡± James said from the side. Next to Leeroy the black man looked almost harmless. I did remember that James had somehow gotten me tied up in webbing and chased by giant spiders.

    ¡°Our deal''s still on right? You¡¯ll tell me about her?¡±

    ¡°If things continue as they have been, yes. Of course if you run away tonight, then that will be a failure.¡±

    I saw a box appear with new quest details. Now, instead of a progress bar, I simply had to make it to the end of this [Maze of Midnight]. There was no percentage. Failure had been modified to be all other actions.

    ¡°That¡¯s easier.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for helping those kids, Mister Grant Legate.¡±

    ¡°Maud? Oh.¡± Right, Maud Voice of Orphans and Separated families. I hadn¡¯t even thought of what my actions did on that front. ¡°Not a problem. They¡¯re good kids.¡±

    Even Phil, who constantly called me geezer, seemed kind hearted under all that. Maybe a little jaded by his situation, but still striving to do a good job.

    ¡°Are you ready, Grant Legate?¡± James said as the other Voices faded into the background.

    ¡°Sure. Let¡¯s get the last act going.¡±

    James smiled as my dark room faded away. Moments later I woke up in the body of William Carver. A small glowing lamp was off to one side and a quill in my hand.

    ¡°Mmmh.¡±

    This looked like Carver had already been writing notes. Writing had been the exact plan for today¡¯s Carver adventure at least pre-midnight. How did the machine know what grand scheme had been in my mind? I tilted my head to see an entire line of names. These people were from William Carver''s past. More than one had showed up in my journals.

    ¡°MMmh.¡± I stood up and groaned a bit. Eventually my body made it over to the stack of journals in Carver''s second room. They were not in the same spot I had left them.

    ¡°You little punk.¡± My [Messenger''s Pet] had likely been goofing around with things in Carver''s house. Much the same as it had in my ARC''s Atrium.

    Where was he anyway? I hadn¡¯t seen the little dragon for almost a day. James had mentioned the [Messenger''s Pet] might stop hanging around if he got bored. Guess I was no longer entertaining. Journal after journal went onto the table. Notes would be cross referenced against the names. I had thumbed through them more than once over the last few weeks of game time. Still, it wouldn¡¯t do for a man¡¯s final farewells to be hacked together with no feeling.

    When the guards showed up an hour later to see if I needed help down to the beach they were met with a grunt and wave goodbye. When Wyl himself showed up to both report on the two players and check on me, I waved him off and handed him a letter. Even High Priestess Peach wanted to have her say. I gave her a letter and made her promise on Selena not to open it until tomorrow. Peach was concerned. Even William Carver''s nearsighted eyes could make it out.

    All of the remaining letters went to Phil. He snapped too smartly with an imitation salute picked up from the town guards. Old Man Carver''s personality didn¡¯t lend itself to obvious amusement so I kept everything under wraps. The farewells were in good hands I thought. Whatever mail system this world had would get them out, and hopefully the Voices above would fill in the blanks.

    I wrote one final note for the man himself. Wild Willy. Mister Carver. William, Old Man, Carver. These were in larger letters, slowly and carefully put together. Words that had brought me some measure of comfort when my fianc¨¦e had passed three years ago.

    There was a mirror in one room that I took nearly thirty minutes to unhook from the wall and drag to a table. It was near nighttime now, just two hours from midnight. Phil would be outside soon to pick me up for this final journey.

    ¡°Carver.¡± I licked dry lips and stared into the reflective surface. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re in there. If you are, then I hope I¡¯ve done right by you.¡±

    One finger scratched at my scalp idly as the speech in my head fell apart.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a very good hero. I¡¯ve never fought even half the things you have.¡± Not in any game this immersing. Sure I had clicked away monsters on computers decades ago. Those video game spiders paled in comparison to Continue Online¡¯s giant ones. I imagined a dragon to be much worse.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to do my best to give you the ending you deserve. Who knows. Maybe when I get out of here I can come ask you in our world.¡±

    I smiled at the sudden thought. Of course showing up out of the blue would be a little tacky. Still, the Voices had said Carver was riding along somewhere, and still alive. Trillium¡¯s Second Player Helm would be perfect for allowing him to do such a thing. It even worked on a patient who was, as Leeroy had said, a ¡®drooler¡¯.

    ¡°It¡¯s been something else. I¡¯ve, uhh, never played a game like this. It¡¯s so real. And these people, even though they¡¯re just AI¡¯s, they, really, really, and I mean really, care for you.¡± Even the Jester was respectful, and that was super extra neat.

    ¡°Anyway. I just wanted to say something myself, that it¡¯s been an honor to be you, uhh, and also the weirdest thing I¡¯ve ever done. But, I mean, I hope you¡¯ve enjoyed the ride.¡±

    ¡°Here. This, this, uhh, helped me.¡± I blinked away the mopey mode my mind was rapidly declining into. Death had never been easy for me to be around, not since the train wreck. These words were spoken aloud in case William Carver couldn¡¯t focus on them.

    ¡°As a well spent day brings happy sleep, so a life well spent brings happy death.¡± I paused and let the silence settle for a moment.

    ¡°It¡¯s supposedly said by Leonardo Da Vinci.¡± I shrugged. Whomever Carver was in real life, he wasn¡¯t old enough to have met Leonardo, probably, most likely. This game had my brain all twisted around.

    ¡°So, uhh, if half of your journals are true, if you¡¯re even half this driven in our world, I think you¡¯ve spent your life well.¡±

    ¡°So, once more unto the breach, right Mister Carver?¡± I lifted the cane in a poor salute and tried to straighten this curved spine out just a little. Finally the myriad of emotions coursing through me got to be too much. The cane lower and out the door I went. Time to give this man one last adventure.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Sixteen - Maze Inspiration

    <cite></cite>Phil was off doing who knows what while I was left to walk from Carver''s house to the hedge maze entrance. All four players were gathered in the same spot as yesterday. Two were arguing about something that was too difficult to hear from this far back. As I got closer it was easier to tell who the talkers were right now.

    ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re bringing?¡± The older female said.

    ¡°What? I like this cloak.¡± Awesome Jr. was defending himself from HotPants'' aggressive opinions.

    ¡°A cloak. Seriously?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I can swoosh it around and catch weapons or something. It makes me harder to hit.¡± He moved the cloak around trying to give a good example.

    ¡°It makes you harder to look at.¡± Shadow remarked.

    I said nothing and marched up to our meeting spot. We were just outside a row of bushes that lined the walkway. Yesterday¡¯s reconnaissance had shown it to be a basic maze for children. The kind of thing you found at county fairs.

    ¡°Are we ready?¡± My voice came out gruffer than normal.

    ¡°Sure am. My stealth and speed went up by leaps last night. That guard captain, Wyl, he¡¯s a genius.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a computer.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, how¡¯d your near death go?¡± Shadow retorted at HotPants.

    ¡°Stupid wolves. Really, they were worse than my neighbor''s dogs.¡± Her hands grasped tightly to the weapons at her side. both eyes narrowed and stared into the distance.

    ¡°Bet it felt good hitting them.¡± The assassin responded.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t hit dogs.¡± SweetPea was busy looking down at her toes while muttering a defense.

    ¡°You tell me that kind of nonsense when they¡¯re snarling in your face. My heart must have skipped a few beats last night. At least in here I don¡¯t have to feel guilty about it.¡± HotPants was a little bit less angry seeming today. Certainly she was far less arrogant in both mannerisms and speech. The whole thing with Awesome Jr¡¯s cloak was completely justified. It was an almost neon green that made my old eyebrow twitch in annoyance.

    ¡°You¡¯ve all done what you needed?¡± I tried to reign in my pack of players. They had to have an attention disorder or they were just approaching this thing casually. They glanced at each other. Shadow shrugged and nodded followed quickly by the others agreeing.

    ¡°Good. In the center of this maze is a gateway. That gateway goes to the [Maze of Midnight]. We have less than two hours to make it through the maze.¡± I, William Carver, couldn¡¯t afford to be casual.

    ¡°Wait, we have to go inside to find the door?¡± Shadow complained. ¡°Damn. I¡¯d hope the maze door would be the actual door.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± I said.

    ¡°How do you know?¡± Awesome Jr. asked while swooshing his bright cloak around. My shoulders went up in a shrug. I knew because the computer told me on a little piece of paper. All the secrets of this town had been scribbled in location after location.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s okay, I got this.¡± Shadow leapt on top of a bench and yanked his light frame up onto the hedges. One hand sat above his eyes to block out the streetlamp. He squinted into the distance.

    ¡°Come on, it¡¯s dark, but I can guide us from here.¡±

    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re not just a stupid ninja wannabe.¡± Awesome Jr. said happily. Shadow glared, but chose not to respond.

    ¡°At least he¡¯s not wearing a barf cloak.¡± HotPants took the lead with her staff at the ready.

    ¡°Hey. At least I can cook rice. Sort of.¡± Awesome Jr. had no problems defending himself verbally.

    ¡°Can you share the recipe?¡± SweetPea said.

    I ignored them and followed after a bundle of washed reds. Her armor jangled constantly. There was a guard that went up around her neck which actually suited her, I think it was called a gorget. It was new too, probably a reward from her patrol exercise.

    ¡°So a wolf nearly got you?¡± I was genuinely interested in how she fared against the creatures of this world. Being attacked by one in real life would cause me to flip out. Being attacked by an endless amount with blood and guts everywhere had to be worse.

    ¡°Sure. Those other guards were on point though. I was the one holding us back." She actually looked a little embarrassed but managed to power through with most of her arrogance intact. "I needed to get a feel for a real fight.¡±

    ¡°Was it everything you¡¯d hoped for?¡±

    ¡°That and more.¡± She nodded.

    ¡°Good. Some Travelers find it hard to adapt. I hear there¡¯s not as much violence on your side.¡± I lived in the Americas. The last local war we had been part of involved a nasty merger between the United States and parts of Canada and Mexico.

    ¡°Depends on where you live. Or who you live with.¡±

    ¡°Mh.¡± I didn¡¯t pry. That sounded like a sore subject on many levels.

    ¡°What¡¯s it to you anyway? Nosey machine.¡± HotPants glared at me from top to bottom before turning away in annoyance.

    ¡°Miss HotPants,¡± Keeping it together was a challenge. ¡°who ever said I was a machine?¡±

    ¡°What? What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°Figure it out yourself. Consider it something to occupy your mind.¡± Anything that would dislodge her current stream of misplaced anger was welcome. She improved overnight, but only a little.

    ¡°Left, then I think we can go straight from there, hold on.¡± Shadow jumped across one of the bushes to another one and looked fearful for just a moment. Both hands were out as he balanced.

    ¡°You okay up there?¡± Awesome Jr. asked.

    ¡°Fine. My skill check passed.¡± He muttered something else under his breath, but my old ears didn¡¯t catch it. The others switched to a conversation regarding skills and their activation. I shrugged it all off. Carver''s notes had outlined all sorts of things they were already talking about.

    Shadow called out each turn for us, left, right, forward. I kept a fairly steady, if not eager, pace. Moving around was easier than earlier today. Carver had sat on his virtual behind all day long and my activeness was paying off. We managed to avoid doubling back or hitting too many dead ends. Soon we were at the heart of the maze and a stellar emptiness met us.

    ¡°What time is it?¡±

    ¡°Not midnight.¡± Shadow hopped down and looked around.

    ¡°This spot here?¡± SweetPea was looking at a pattern on the ground. There was a series of spirals that radiated outward from an almost perfect circle.

    I, luckily, had a giant arrow visible that bobbed up and down in the air. This was similar to the one that had guided me to Old Man Carver''s bench the first night. Stand here player! My position was clear. We weren¡¯t too late. Everything from here was just a matter of waiting.

    ¡°How long?¡±

    ¡°Dunno. This game doesn¡¯t have watches.¡± Keeping track of which player was speaking had proven too difficult. The fuzziness of my hearing made me feel detached from the group. Hopefully they would think I was following along. Or they would keep talking over me like NPCs didn''t matter.

    ¡°Do the math, you¡¯ve got your external timer right?¡± HotPants was busy twirling the staff through some basic motions. Her actions were clearly steps above where she had been a few weeks ago at Peg¡¯s.

    ¡°You got any more of those bindings? The stuff you put on your hands?¡± Shadow asked.

    ¡°Sure.¡± There was a shuffle as HotPants got something out of her inventory and threw it towards Shadow. ¡°Here¡¯s a roll. You need help getting wrapped?¡±

    ¡°If you could show me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s easier if someone else tightens it, at least for me. My skill isn¡¯t high enough yet.¡± HotPants seemed pleased with Shadow¡¯s asking.

    ¡°Give it time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been patient this long.¡± She muttered while wrapping some cloth around Shadow¡¯s hands. It looked like the same actions a boxer might do to ensure their knuckles didn¡¯t get as damaged.

    ¡°Good. Everything helps.¡±

    ¡°How did your stuff go? You master making out yet?¡± Shadow needled the two lovebirds standing in the back. Both Awesome Jr. and SweetPea went beet red. I could see their stammering actions from the side of my vision. I was interested too but hadn¡¯t the heart to pick on them that much. Besides, I was trying to keep my head in the game.

    ¡°It¡¯s a surprise.¡±

    ¡°You did get something though?¡± HotPants asked.

    SweetPea nodded with a smile. The normally shy girl actually looked kind of cute when she stopped hiding under that annoying hood. Awesome Jr. was probably on to something with his crush.

    ¡°Here it comes.¡± I said.

    In front of me there was a swirl. Sparkles drifted down from above and landed on ledges unseen. Our surroundings had been dark but now were illuminated. More and more bright flakes fell downward like snow. A full minute passed while the doorway formed. Soon we had an entryway made of light.

    ¡°Awesome.¡± Awesome Jr. said. I was impressed too but had to remain somewhat stoic. After all, William Carver was a seasoned adventurer.

    ¡°Where does that go?¡±

    ¡°To the Maze.¡± I answered.

    ¡°What should we do?¡±

    ¡°HotPants, would you go first?¡± SweetPea asked.

    I ignored them all, and walked forward. Light blinded me as I ventured through the passageway. Mixtures of purple and black interlaced among the brightest portions. The world swung sideways and gravity released hold on Carver''s body. There was a brief sensation of floating free from the world''s tethers.

    Then it was over and I was walking forward into another maze. This one was distinctly different than the where we just come out of. Hedges were inked with the same purple and black markings on their leaves. The branches were a muted white that bled at the edges into its other hues.

    ¡°Holy Moly.¡± Shadow came through first. There was a noise like someone jumping out of the way at high speeds.

    ¡°Jesus.¡± HotPants was second through the gateway with a similar sound effect.

    ¡°This, this is worth the subscription cost. My god.¡± Shadow said. ¡°And the colors? I love this place.¡±

    Awesome Jr. and SweetPea came into the dungeon with their hands clasped together. Her eyes were closed tightly.

    ¡°It¡¯s awesome.¡± Awesome Jr. said again. I managed to avoid replying with his tag line. This place was pretty neat.

    ¡°Ah. Are you kidding me? We went from one maze into another?¡± HotPants had just calmed down and the new knowledge had set her off again. Nothing seemed to satisfy her.

    ¡°It¡¯s called the Maze of Midnight.¡± Shadow said with a shrug.

    The players assigned roles. These hedges were too high for our assassin to leap upon. Shadow instead explored ahead a twist or turn just to see where the easy dead ends were. HotPants would be in the lead of our main group since she was the toughest one here according to her stats. SweetPea was in charge of making a map in case the maze was more complicated inside than the outside.

    Their ideas all sounded fine. I had no real feedback, I hadn¡¯t done any sort of dungeon diving or video game in years. My idea of exploration was to run around in a place at high speeds clicking stuff until a resolution appeared. Me and William Carver were probably very alike in that regard. Only he had done it for real.

    ¡°Come on.¡± Shadow motioned.

    Awesome Jr. had to be prodded frequently in order to keep up. He kept getting distracted by the plants and our surroundings. These passageways we wandered for many a twist and turn were much wider than the ones outside had been.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I thought I saw someone.¡± Shadow whispered with a finger to his lips.

    ¡°You think there¡¯s monsters in here?¡± SweetPea had closed the gap and was busy peering around the corner. She would squint and turn her head around suddenly as if hearing something.

    I, of course, could hear nothing, see very little, and only vaguely smelled what had to be jasmine or some other tea leaf. Absently I picked some leaves from one of the plants and chewed on it. Worst case scenario I blew us all up. Nope, just a faint taste of oranges resulted.

    ¡°Mmh?¡± I raised an eyebrow and looked at one of the leaves. [Identification] provided a bit of information now that I separated everything.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Results:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Ish Plant - Leaf]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This is part of a larger bush. The leaf is said to taste different when still attached to the vine. No known negative side effects are attributed to this.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    They were kind of tasty. I chewed on another one and tried not mourn my missing [Messenger''s Pet]. He would probably like a nibble as well. There were other messages I had been disregarding as we made the first few turns within the maze.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">A Last Gasp [Part 2]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Unknown</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Continuing Adventures of William (Old Man) Carver have lead you into the [Maze of Midnight]. Restrictions have been activated.

    Auto pilot time will not impact completion.

    Failure: Complete failure is impossible

    Success: Possible information (Restricted)

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Restriction! </td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Death while in the maze will be permanent for William (Old Man) Carver

    Outside assistance cannot be summoned by William (Old Man) Carver. Not even for cupcakes.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Oh. Oh no. Permanent death of Old Man Carver if this failed? How, what? I twitched an eyebrow and read some of the other fine points. No more [Messenger''s Pet] while in the [Maze of Midnight]? Not even for cupcakes? How mean! I guess that explained where the tiny creature had gone. Probably back to that room of trials place to sulk and harass new players. It made me sad to think that he might end up following some other Ultimate Edition owner around.

    ¡°Woh fuck, incoming!¡± Shadow shouted before fading into a plant.

    ¡°Ehh?¡± I felt lost.

    ¡°Get back Mister Carver!¡±

    HotPants was standing with her staff out eyeing our approaching enemy. There was a health bar available above a squirming mass of something.

    ¡°What is that?¡± One of the players shouted. Like I had a clue. William Carver''s game body could barely see anything.

    ¡°The arms! Watch the arms!¡± SweetPea was ducking while Awesome Jr. shouted out redundant advice.

    HotPants didn¡¯t have time to give anyone else a glance. She was knocking away blurs of movement with one end of the staff then would twist and swing back.

    ¡°Got it!¡± Shadow was hard to pick out among the plants. His color choice had blended in well with the background, almost as well as the monster that was attacking. HotPants twisted and jabbed the staff. Shadow was trying to sway back out of the tentacles but got slashed around the face and arm. SweetPea was crouched down with both hands over her head.

    ¡°Incoming!¡± Awesome Jr. had something in his hand that was thrown and resulted in a fiery explosion of a Molotov cocktail.

    The system showed the monsters red bar slide downwards towards the empty end. A final slash from the daring Shadow finished it off. HotPants gave the monster an extra kick. I had no clue what had just happened. Not really. Being trapped in an old man¡¯s body made it hard to respond to anything with certainty. Actually seeing these creatures was tough. My group of players started chattering and most of it was difficult to distinguish over the flames dwindling roar.

    ¡°Anyone got details?¡±

    ¡°Camo?¡± Shadow posed a question.

    ¡°They blended right in with the maze walls.¡±

    ¡°How did you block so many?¡±

    ¡°Try tackling half a pack of wolves at night. It¡¯s the same.¡± HotPants answered Awesome Jr.

    ¡°Okay. Damage?¡±

    ¡°Hefty, if you get hit. No blind spots that I saw, I tried to get a back stab and it failed.¡± Shadow grumbled and picked up a tentacle.

    ¡°This thing is just all arms, no main body. No eyes.¡±

    ¡°Is this entire place going to be like that?¡± SweetPea was downcast.

    ¡°Says the woman who cowered in a ball. Why are you even here if you can¡¯t look up?¡± SweetPea didn¡¯t come to her own defense. HotPants did by hitting Shadow with her staff and slicing off another ounce of his health. They growled back and forth a few times and I ignored it all. These new monsters had been less freaky than the giant spiders.

    We hung out for a little bit seeing what would happen to Shadow''s health bar. Or they did, I looked down a corridor of our maze and wondered how many more were around. Was that swaying over there another one just waiting for us to get into range?

    "My health¡¯s not going up."

    "Here''s a potion." Awesome Jr. said behind me.

    "How did you make these?" Shadow asked.

    "Standard alchemy. It helps that I take chemistry outside the game."

    "I''m impressed." HotPants looked at Awesome Jr. with a faint smile. He had proved useful.

    "There''s a few other things I want to try, but I won''t have time if we''re going to complete this."

    "What did you do all night?" Shadow asked.

    "Gathered crystals. I''ll show you if you can tell me how you do that voice thing."

    "The batman?" HotPants added her own voice to the question.

    "Yeah." Awesome Jr. confirmed.

    "Just try to talk different long enough, the system will pick it up."

    "That''s awesome."

    "Stop saying that or I''m going to hit you." HotPants growled.

    We moved onward, down another few twists and turns. There were more of those strange monsters but only a few. I tried to help out with one but couldn''t move fast enough. Plus this cane wasn''t really a viable weapon. Carver''s house hadn''t been filled to the brim with anything useful for battle or I would use something.

    SweetPea kept at the mapping. She also proved to be decent at detecting an ambush before Shadow noticed any monsters. Her bravery gene hadn''t kicked in completely though. After the fourth monster she had stopped cowering in a ball. By the tenth she managed to stand up while pulling her knitted hat downward.

    "Screw this maze."

    "Yeah. I don''t know if we''ll get anywhere in time. It''s been what, two hours?" Awesome Jr. threw his hands up in the air.

    "You can''t expect to just breeze through these places. Otherwise it''d be no fun." Shadow responded.

    "What?" Awesome Jr. asked the younger girl. "Guys, hold up. SweetPea says there should be a room or something about here." His hands were up and motioning for the others to come in close.

    "What?"

    The other three hunched over the map nearby. They twisted their necks almost in unison as SweetPea pointed out the gap in her paperwork. Apparently we had explored most of the outer edges of this maze. Somewhere near the middle was either a giant room, or a miniature maze inside the bigger one.

    "How do we get inside?"

    Even my artificially faded eyesight could tell that none of the paths we traveled on had a turn that would lead further in. None to the north, south, east, or where we stood in the west. I twisted my lips and frowned.

    "Probably a door." I said. "Or we''re missing something." My eyes closed for a moment while trying to remember where we had been so far.

    "A secret door? In a beginner dungeon?" Shadow asked from over my shoulder. Having the younger man behind me was kind of unnerving.

    I shrugged.

    "Lord save me from fools.¡± Her hands twisted around the staff angrily. ¡°We have to go around again. This time everyone look harder." HotPants, the oldest here besides me, took charge and made up a plan. The others nodded and we started around a second time.

    No doorways were obvious. I kept munching the sweet tasting leaves while trying to see if any of Carver''s skills included detection of hidden items. There had to be a key somewhere in the listing. Hadn''t the Voices made this place for Carver? Yet, Leeroy had spoken of the players I picked out. There was very likely a mix of our skills needed to make it through this customized dungeon.

    "These things keep appearing. Haven''t we been through here?" One of the players said. They kept talking when I was lost in thought, and Carvers body made it hard to distinguish who was talking at the drop of a hat.

    "They''re respawning?" Awesome Jr. was looking up while counting on his fingers.

    "I dunno. Where are the other bodies?" Shadow poked at the latest victim of their growing teamwork. I would applaud the performance but they were doing it all by their lonesome. Single monsters were posing no challenge.

    "Why is it when they''re dead, they change colors?" SweetPea asked.

    "Why indeed." Came my Carver laden dry response. So far this entire place had held to the purple, black, white mishmash of colors. When the attacking creatures died the floor faded to green.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why we can¡¯t just hack through these bushes towards the center.¡± HotPants had grown increasingly cross during our second lap.

    ¡°You can¡¯t even see past this row to the next one.¡± Shadow had been eyeing the bushes for a long time as we walked. If there was an easy path through, he probably would have found it.

    ¡°So?¡± HotPants stuck her staff into the nearest bush. A high pitched screech drowned out whatever else was being said. Branches spun and waved as one, then another, and finally a third creature broke apart from the walls. They were moving too fast for me to focus on and use [Identification]. Saying it out loud would give away William Carver''s player status.

    ¡°Oh Jesus, are all these walls full of them?¡± SweetPea ducked behind Awesome Jr. but managed to keep her hood up.

    ¡°There¡¯s too many!¡± HotPants hit two quickly to get their attention. Awesome Jr. readied up another flaming potion and gave it a toss towards the third.

    ¡°Anyone got crowd control?!¡± Shadow shouted, stabbing one of HotPants'' in the back with both daggers. A flash of red slid off the health bar. His target turned and switched focus away from HotPants.

    ¡°Shit, shit, oh god.¡± The would be assassin had been knocked flying into some more bushes. His head shook as he tried to stand back up.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bring more of them!¡±

    ¡°Careful with your fire!¡± SweetPea said while tugging on Awesome Jr.¡¯s over sized cloak. Awesome Jr. had a strangely maniacal look as he lit up another potion.

    There I stood like a lump with half a frown on my face. If anyone had asked this old man I could have clearly told them not to break down the walls. That wasn¡¯t being clever, that was cheating.

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°Give her a swing, Grant Legate.¡± Someone whispered in my head. None of the players were near me, so it must have een a Voice. I raised an eyebrow and felt a shifting of weight. Now I held a giant sword instead of the smaller cane that normally supported my frame.

    ¡°Ah.¡± I glanced at it briefly with [Identification]. This was a sword worthy of a legend that had killed a dragon by himself. I lifted an arm. It was extremely light too. Or maybe the restrictions were gone. There was a buff to one side titled [Heroic Surge of Strength].

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Heroic Surge of Strength]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Cost:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Remaining Energy</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Restriction:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Can only be used once every hour</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    William Carver can temporarily remove his [Old Age] limitations and bring his strength back to his youthful days!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Both eyes slowly blinked as I prepared myself to fight something for real in this game. This wasn¡¯t as easy for me as it might have been for William Carver. I didn¡¯t possess the leap first ask questions later mentality.

    ¡°Good Lord, there¡¯s more!¡±

    ¡°Watch your fucking fire!¡± HotPants yelled.

    ¡°You idiot, if we die in here I¡¯m going to camp your dead corpse!¡± Shadow snarled but he was still in the fray. HotPants was busy backing up while three of the creatures grew closer.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to help!¡± One of the female yelled.

    Opening my eyes revealed more trouble. Four of the monsters had started creeping up behind us. Their arms looked like blurs against the hedge maze''s backdrop. Still, even with poor eyesight for normal situations, my ARC interface was kind enough to paint a very clear set of health bars.

    I slowly moved closer and readied the blade just like Peg had ¡®retaught¡¯ me. There was an ache in my shoulder that threatened to make me dip the blade. I held on trying to active Carver''s [Stubborn as a Mule] trait. Messages flashed into being that seemed to indicate success.

    The creatures got close enough for me to make out their writhing mass of purple and black tentacles. I swung the blade and felt overpowered as their health bars shattered. My head tingled pleasantly, arms already felt warm, and a smile was plastered on my old face. What a rush! No wonder Carver had been a warrior.

    Two more in the front were still around. HotPants and Shadow were busy finishing off the latest wave. She swung her staff in an arc through the last mass. The sudden collision sent it flying into the nearly solid mass of bushes. Shadow stepped in and gave it a final slice and the creature''s arms died down.

    I huffed, feeling suddenly worn out. The blade shimmered out of existence. Soon I stood there taking the deepest breaths I could manage while bracing myself on the cane.

    ¡°Did you see that?¡± SweetPea asked Awesome Jr. He turned around with a confused look and saw four dead monsters in addition to the five in front of us.

    ¡°You are broken.¡± Awesome Jr. muttered.

    ¡°Stupid computer. If you were hiding that kind of ability, why even need us?¡±

    ¡°I bet it was an event attack. Look at how winded he is.¡± Shadow stated. He busily inspected the corpses that lay about.

    ¡°You know I can hear you.¡± The response that came forth was amazingly calm. Maybe it was the exhaustion of having no stamina that was catching up.

    ¡°Oh. Yeah. Sorry.¡± At least the young assassin had apologized. I shook my head and tried not to roll a tired set of eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯re right though. I don¡¯t think I can do that again anytime soon.¡± The stamina bar I had off to the side was down near critical. If we did anything more strenuous than stand here I would need to be carried.

    SweetPea was muttering to herself and seemed to be arguing with some sort of internal monologue. I was still reeling from the exertion of a single swing and raised an eyebrow. She shook her head at my quizzical glance and instead pointed towards the ground under our dead assailants.

    ¡°There¡¯s that green again.¡±

    I gave it some thought.

    ¡°Back to basics.¡± I suggested.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s something you should all keep in mind.¡± This deserved my best imitation of Carver''s grumpy but guiding tone. ¡°When you get stuck, or reach a dead end, go back to the beginning.¡±

    This strategy worked for dancing. It worked for accounting during my prior career. It also worked when Hal Pal actually ran into odd problems out in the field. Start the whole process over and see what had changed.

    ¡°Think so?¡± Shadow mused.

    ¡°The entrance is this way.¡± SweetPea had pulled out our map in her hands and tilted it around while muttering.

    ¡°Let¡¯s move. I don¡¯t want to spend all weekend in here.¡± HotPants marched down the hallways. William Carver¡¯s body didn¡¯t have much energy left after our second lap around but I managed to keep a decent pace.

    Turned out going back to the start was a good idea.

    ¡°Is that new?¡± Awesome Jr. was pointing to the ground. There had only been dull purplish tiles an hour before. Now a stream of green had invaded, reaching out from our location towards the center of the labyrinth.

    ¡°Think killing those creatures has something to do with this?¡±

    ¡°Look at the plants.¡± Awesome Jr. said. ¡°These are nothing like the others. Look here, and here.¡± The goofy male was feeling leaves of different colors.

    Green ground transformed the landscape into something a bit more normal. It felt like the hallway where it was had grown smaller as well. This almost matched the first maze before the portal. Natural hedges came out of the ground and fought back the purple and black ones.

    ¡°That¡¯s weird.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s transforming. Like an infection, you think?¡± Awesome Jr. speculated while straddling a border between normal and dungeon bushes. His neon green cloak stood out far less among the natural greens.

    ¡°So we kill more?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Probably. But look. Here, it¡¯s forming a path.¡± Awesome Jr. pushed some of the bushes away and showed us how our current portion of the maze connected to another path just a bit over.

    ¡°This stuff is way easier to walk through. I can actually see the path on the other side.¡±

    ¡°You think we can just kill a bunch more?¡±

    ¡°No more packs like that last one though.¡±

    ¡°Yeah I don¡¯t think Carver can help us much.¡±

    ¡°I guess we should rest. Even if he¡¯s a computer he looks worn out.¡± These players were starting to piss me off, constantly talking about me like I wasn¡¯t here. Though HotPants had almost sounded pleasant there.

    ¡°Please.¡± SweetPea said.

    We set up a small fire pit in the transformed portion. No one wanted to rest near the inky maze walls. Hips ached and groaned as I lowered this old frame to the ground. Sleepiness washed over the ARC¡¯s feedback in a simulation of William Carver''s exhaustion.

    Shadow and Awesome Jr. fought over the food. Finally SweetPea managed to edge them both out of the way and make something. She was one of the few to directly ask me about cooking in game. The others had gone very different paths. There was a clear difference between what they supplied with the same materials. I didn¡¯t really want to give our meal of [Rat Meat] too much thought though. Newbie players meant poorer food.

    ¡°This food''s way better than the scraps my Master gives me.¡± Shadow said while noisily chewing. SweetPea didn¡¯t respond.

    These guys were so chatty, too. I had been subjected to a few players who gabbed about everything under the sun, especially those new to a virtual game like this. One middle aged woman had loaded into Continue with her husband. Both of them went straight for the beach and played around in the water until their health dropped to zero. They were confused upon resurrection at the starting point. Both laughed themselves silly before moving on with their day. I would have asked them to join but they spent most of their time in auto pilot. These four players actually played the game.

    ¡°We ready?¡± HotPants asked.

    ¡°I guess. How many of those things have we killed?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Thirty or so?¡± Shadow responded to SweetPea.

    ¡°Look here.¡± Awesome Jr. pushed the bushes out of the way completely and made a path between the mazes edges. ¡°SweetPea, this spot on your map, should be right outside the unexplored area, right?¡±

    ¡°I think so.¡± She nodded with a frown. Her finger trailed around the map recounting curves and details. Then she nodded again.

    ¡°Then if this, I don¡¯t know, detoxification? If it keeps going, we¡¯ll open up the inner portion with just a few more?¡± He followed up and asked a good question. The boy was fairly quick.

    ¡°Sounds like a plan. Let''s go.¡±

    ¡°How about you stay here, and I¡¯ll go pull some of those monsters to us.¡± Shadow interrupted the forming plan with both hands up in a stop motion.

    ¡°Only a few at a time please.¡± SweetPea said while standing behind Awesome Jr.

    ¡°Of course, I¡¯m not some idiot whose going to try and light the place on fire.¡± Shadow gave an unsubtle glare Awesome Jr.¡¯s way.

    I loved the idea of them fetching monsters from elsewhere. Shadow seemed smart enough to navigate most of the easy turns. Moments later and he brought another two to our doorstep. Both HotPants and Shadow finished them off fairly quickly. Awesome Jr. had sat down with a depressed look on his face and seemed to be concocting something. SweetPea was staring wide eyed at these two doing most of the actual fighting.

    Old man deaf ears heard no real dissension. There were brief pauses when it seemed like HotPants and Shadow were communicating silently. I hadn¡¯t experienced any sort of secret whisper method in this game like others had. If the theory held true there should be a method however. Were they trying to oust the other two? Hopefully not.

    ¡°Those explosives of yours seem very useful.¡± I said to Awesome Jr. ¡°Do you have any other mixtures?¡±

    ¡°I guess. I¡¯ve been trying to find a freeze blast of some sort. All I¡¯ve got is one that drops goo on the ground though.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s gross.¡± SweetPea twisted up her face.

    ¡°There might be a use for it.¡± I stood peering over his shoulder. Just a little closer and I would actually be able to see what he was doing with some clarity.

    ¡°Glad you think so. I spent all my money on these vials at noon, spent another six hours testing things out. Then I had to pay Miss Robuls for her highest proof alcohol just to have something.¡±

    ¡°The night in the cave didn¡¯t go well?¡± I thought he would have learned something magical from the game by the end.

    ¡°Not as well for me as it did for Melissa. I mean SweetPea. She won¡¯t tell me what happened, but when I try to use the skill I got, she lights up like a beacon.¡±

    ¡°You sure that¡¯s not the infatuation speaking?¡± Now that we were having a moment of down time I felt comfortable poking a bit of fun the youngsters way. He reminded me a lot of myself at that age, though chemistry had never been my forte. Awesome Jr. flushed and looked over at the other girl. She was drawing lines of chalk on the ground, measuring who knows what.

    ¡°No, it''s not that.¡± He whispered in response.

    The other two kept right on pulling single creatures down the lane and killing them. We were lucky that this cleared area seemed safe enough. My stamina was back to nearly full so I could probably pull another one of those blade swings out of nowhere if things got dire. After I figured out how this cane transformed.

    ¡°How do you do it Mister Carver? Everyone looks up to you, you¡¯re a hero.¡± Awesome Jr. was whispering still while staring at the girl of his dreams. They may have grown closer in the last two days but I could detect worry. Those days felt familiar, the worry if I was lacking compared to all the other guys out there.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to be a hero.¡± Not like William Carver did. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to be a villain. I only know that there are things in this world I must do.¡±

    Awesome Jr. chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment, both hands frozen in the air with two test tubes of swirling colors. Then he shook his head again and banished the fuzzy headed thoughts.

    ¡°That¡¯s reminds me of a poem. Invictus. He said, it matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.¡±

    ¡°Good kid. You know your stuff.¡± The older female said. HotPants was huffing while holding her staff. Shadow looked worn out just behind her. A pile of dead ink monsters littered across the ground. Emeralds and other greens bled across the landscape to slowly meld with our safe zone.

    ¡°Yeah. We studied Mandela in history. It came up twice along with another passage.¡± Awesome Jr responded.

    ¡°Yeah? Anything good?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Wait, hold on. I¡¯ll go grab it. I think you¡¯ll like this one Mister Carver.¡± Awesome Jr.¡¯s form almost turned into a dull lifeless version. His hands went back mechanically to mixing potions and trying not to sneak sidelong glances at SweetPea. Autopilot was not flattering on the teen.

    Clearly the machine AIs that ran Continue knew exactly what kind of personality Awesome Jr. had. I would love to see his autopilot get caught stalking SweetPea. The Event message from that would be hilarious. Awesome Jr¡¯s object of affection was completely oblivious. SweetPea was jumping up and down for joy. Hair flew everywhere as her skinny body danced around.

    ¡°We did it!¡± She shouted.

    ¡°Oh yeah? You mean we did it.¡± Shadow said. ¡°You two just sat there.¡±

    ¡°Hey, you leave the kid with the bundle of explosives alone. We¡¯ll probably need them." HotPants was completely onboard with Awesome Jr.''s mixtures. "The robot here can probably only do that, whatever he did, a few more times, and I¡¯m not going to wipe in this dungeon.¡±

    ¡°Wipe?¡± SweetPea stopped her happy dance and tilted her head.

    ¡°It¡¯s where we all die and fail.¡± Shadow said. ¡°And I have no plans to die.¡±

    ¡°No one plans to.¡± I sadly muttered, sinking into my sad mood once more. Maybe I should invest in some anti-depression medications. They helped last year during my second relapse.

    ¡°Here. I wrote it into my journal.¡±

    ¡°What did you write down?¡± HotPants.

    ¡°It¡¯s another quote, this one¡¯s not a poem. It¡¯s from Theodore Roosevelt.¡±

    ¡°Come on, gab and walk.¡± HotPants recovered enough to start pushing bushes out of the way. She huffed and pulled out a much smaller dagger. Slowly she sawed at branches to clear a solid path that any of us could walk through.

    ¡°It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like someone I know.¡± Shadow gave his snark filled opinion about the work he was doing to kill our invading monsters. Awesome Jr. broke away and flipped off the would be ninja.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t about you, this is about Mister Carver.¡±

    ¡°Keep going.¡± I motioned.

    ¡°Right.¡± He took a breath and tried not to look embarrassed. I had forgotten what being a teenager was like. For me, everything had been steps away from an ego crushing event.

    ¡°The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood. Who strives valiantly.¡± Awesome Jr. was emphasizing so many of the words as if trying to give the great speech himself. It was impressive to me. Even HotPants seemed appreciative and halted her hacking of bushes with the tiny knife she had pulled out.

    ¡°Who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming. But who does actually strive to do the deeds. Who knows great enthusiasms.

    ¡°Sounds pretty wordy to me.¡± Shadow blurted an interruption. HotPants punched the young assassin and gave him the blade. He grumbled and started sawing away at the clensed plants.

    ¡°Shut up Shadow. Keep going Awesome.¡±

    ¡°Awesome¡¯s my father.¡± Awesome Jr. absently mumbled while gazing at SweetPea. His head shook and consulted whatever notes his ARC displayed. A moment later and he was reciting the remaining passage.

    ¡°Who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions. Who spends himself in a worthy cause. Who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.¡±

    Mere moments after finishing his quotation a box flickered into existence on his screen. I gave a smile. The machine had rather enjoyed his touching rendition. It might have been the effect of Awesome Jr¡¯s new skill. It just might have been the fact that we ventured into a new room, but I felt better than ever.

    A wave of energy washed over me, reducing the wear and tear that plagued William Carver''s computer body. My hand gripped at the cane eagerly and I could almost feel the hilt of a blade shifting beneath my fingers. It would only take a moment of intent to transform this walking stick into its outrageously giant form.

    ¡°So there you have it.¡± He said.

    ¡°You keep reading your history." HotPants looked almost the happiest she had ever been. "Some of those presidents, they may have screwed up as much as they fixed, but they knew how to give a speech.¡±

    ¡°Anyway. I figure you¡¯d like this one Mister Carver. The people in town, they tell stories about your adventures. Lots, the tavern practically tells your top ten greatest stories every night.¡± Awesome Jr creased the journal entry together and put it back into an inventory pouch at his side.

    ¡°God help me, Peg wouldn¡¯t shut up about you. She was so excited to see you getting back in the field. Drove me batty.¡± HotPants still had a lingering bit of cheer but her memories of Peg must not have been positive.

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s true. Even my master seemed to respect your journeys." Shadow piped in his opinion.

    ¡°Anyway. You¡¯ve been the man in the arena. I don¡¯t know about the others, but I¡¯ve never done much of anything with my life." Awesome Jr sighed. "So this, has, is like serving next to a legend.¡±

    ¡°Mh.¡± This was embarrassing. I was being praised by players for the work of another user that I was only pretending to be. Awkward.

    ¡°Well.¡± I thought about what Leeroy had said. The last boss in here was unlikely to be anything these plebs, his word not mine, could handle. ¡°You¡¯ll have your own story to share by the end of this.¡±

    ¡°Why did you pick us, Mister Carver? You could have taken any number of fighters from the town. We¡¯re nothing, even if we¡¯re Travelers.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll answer your question with one of my own.¡± I grumbled and got back into my role as Carver. My cane banged against the ground. This was a really good chance to execute my Carverisms. There was no progress bar anymore but that didn¡¯t mean I break character.

    ¡°What do you want form this world? Why did you come here?¡± This was a question that I posed to these players before.

    ¡°Fame.¡± Shadow was the first to respond.

    ¡°Adventure.¡± Awesome Jr. was looking at SweetPea when he responded. She pulled down her hood and didn''t have a good response.

    ¡°I just want to hit things.¡± HotPants said. ¡°A lot.¡± Her faded red clothes seemed to stand out even more among all the greens and blues in our landscape.

    ¡°Whatever it is you want, whatever you feel your world is lacking, you can find it here.¡± I said.

    ¡°And you Mister Carver? What do you want?¡± SweetPea asked.

    I wanted one thing for myself. One item honestly and deeply. I wanted the hurting to stop over my deceased fianc¨¦e. James had given me this chance as both a distraction and a lure. But Carver wanted something else entirely. Giving my answer would be invalid and cheapen this whole event.

    ¡°Me?¡± I hummed a bit and banged the cane once more. I knew what Carver would want. But saying it out loud and not sounding goofy was another matter.

    ¡°Yes, Mister Carver. What do you want?¡± SweetPea asked again. In my four weeks, she was the first player to actually turn the question around. SweetPea, my first Traveler.

    ¡°You say the people tell stories about me?¡± Awesome Jr. nodded to my question. ¡°Well, no one tells them to my face. They let me sit on the bench day in and out, because they think I''m done with it all.¡±

    What had the journals outlined? Vague recollections of the various adventures passed through my mind. I had just scanned them all recently looking for details of William Carver''s past life in order to send out farewells.

    ¡°I¡¯ve slain many different monsters in defense of those who needed it. I¡¯ve been across the oceans and battled on the high seas. I¡¯ve chased a creature born of flame and nightmare across the swamps only to tame the beast.¡± Carver''s form gave an involuntary cough and my chest started to hurt.

    ¡°Treasures, women, I did all this in order to train myself for the greatest adventure I thought one could have.¡± The pain slowly faded and came under control after another cough.

    ¡°The dragon?¡± Awesome Jr. asked with huge excited eyes.

    ¡°That very one.¡± And I was unsure how that journey wen. The mystery of its absence was a puzzle for another day. I applied all my WWCD instincts towards the end of my speech.

    ¡°I reached my summit, and knew that there was still so much more to be done for this world. So much that I could never hope to accomplish alone.¡±

    ¡°Is that¡­¡± SweetPea shoved a hand over Awesome Jr''s mouth and nodded at me to keep going.

    ¡°I became a guide to new Travelers. Not because these old bones wanted to rest.¡± The faintest sensation of pain had started to wash through my body. It was like the edge of a heart attack coming on.

    ¡°Not because I¡¯d grown weary of raising my sword, but because the torch must be passed. Every Traveler I send on their way is another legend in the making.¡± HotPants almost looked misty eyed as I spoke. ¡°But I¡¯m too hard headed to die without one last adventure of my own.¡±

    I swear to the Voices above that if there had been a progress bar still, it would have shot right through the roof. My WWCD had all fired to their maximum. Validation was further received from a giant notice which appeared in front of all four players. Beyond super neat. The message wasn''t visible from my angle but it was likely some sort of system pop up about William Carver''s legacy. Or a quest change.

    ¡°Jesus. I¡¯m going to start crying over here.¡± HotPants actually looked like she meant it. Strange, I would have expected SweetPea to crack first.

    ¡°This is¡­¡±

    ¡°Awesome, yeah we get it.¡±

    ¡°Awesome¡¯s my father.¡± HotPants weakly gave Awesome Jr. a whack over the head for repeating his catchphrase again. I kept my smile inside and let the players do what they would. Next to us a path to the maze''s center lay open. Inside would contain challenges for us all. Most especially for me, Carver''s last adventure was close.

    Here''s hoping the old man enjoyed the ride. What had I said to him in the mirror? Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.

 Book 1, Memories; Session Seventeen - â€œLeeroyâ€

    <cite></cite>Clearing the monsters proved to be the right choice. Bushes had returned to normal all around us and were far less cranky about being cut down. In the distance, either way, ink riddled colors swam and waved to an unseen breeze.

    ¡°Careful. I think there¡¯s more of those things out there.¡± One of the players said.

    ¡°A lot more.¡± SweetPea was huddled near the back again. HotPants stood guard while Shadow used both knives to cut away a path.

    ¡°Okay, I declare these hedges trimmed, HotPants, you''re first,¡± Awesome Jr. said.

    ¡°Alright.¡± She tilted her staff and squeezed into the narrow path we cleared out. I followed next, being the old man in need of an escort.

    Inside was nothing close to what a maze should have.

    Were those people lining the outer edge of a giant square? Not just standard individuals but weird ghostly outlines. I squinted old eyes and looked into the distance. There was a small army of people standing around. Each of them was female. Even poor vision couldn¡¯t disguise some of those curves. They became less ghostly and more real the longer we stood there watching.

    Oh no.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Shadow asked.

    ¡°Memory lane,¡± I answer while trying not to feel my gut drop. Being praised for another man¡¯s actions was bad enough. This would be far more awkward. Carver may have been a brave warrior, but he was also a love ¡®em and leave ¡®em type. This whole setup was a gallery of ex-lovers.

    ¡°Is that music?¡± SweetPea asked as a series of string instruments filled the air.

    ¡°Are those all women?¡± Awesome Jr. had focused on the important prospects in front of him. SweetPea and he were almost a couple, but there was a varying amount of flesh being displayed. Teenage males were notorious for being confused in these situations. Nearsightedness saved me from the same mistake.

    ¡°William. Did you think you could just sneak off and leave without so much as a goodbye?¡± That sweet voice stood out among all the others I had heard. Carver''s personally most compromised Priestess.

    ¡°High Priestess.¡±

    ¡°After all these years, and all we¡¯ve been, you can¡¯t call me Peach?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s named Peach?¡± Awesome Jr. seemed more concerned with the cut of Peach¡¯s dress than anything else.

    ¡°She¡¯s a High Priestess for Selena. Up on the cliff over town.¡± HotPants muttered in response. "Not my style of voice, but still, she''s done good."

    ¡°Yes, I am Peach, and yes, young Traveler, that is music.¡± She answered the questions in turn with her falsely sweet words.

    ¡°How are you here?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not, not really, none of us are.¡± Priestess Peach gestured to the area around her. ¡°To us, this is just a dream granted to us by the Voices. I thank Selena for this.¡±

    "I''m sorry, Peach." My words tasted bitter. Peach had been among the few I ignored over the course of this last day. She seemed genuinely fond of the old man and I discarded all that in my rush of letters.

    ¡°As if I''d let you escape without at least trying to gain your pledge." Peach responded.

    ¡°How about one last dance?¡± I questioned, putting a few things together.

    "I guess that will have to do.¡± She smiled, and though her pitch and tone were a practiced facade, everything else she was looked pleased.

    ¡°Are you sure? My hips aren¡¯t what they used to be you know.¡± I tried to joke with her. Priestess Peach had been one of the first to point out Old Man Carver''s shortcomings out loud.

    ¡°For this, I think the Voices can shed some forgiveness.¡±

    ¡°What are we supposta to do Priestess?¡± Shadow asked.

    ¡°You do whatever it is you Travelers do.¡± She waved them off. To her, none of this was real. Why should she care what happened to other people in a dream?

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    Priestess Peach was proof positive that computers were not required to care about human beings. I said a fervent prayer to our future overlords in hopes there would be room in the metal polishing market. Or maybe I could move up to the hills where the Internet was still a myth.

    ¡°Come on, William.¡± Priestess Peach put out a hand waiting for me. I reached out mine and felt a pleasant energy wash from head to toe.

    ¡°Ehh.¡± Moving felt just a bit easier again. My joints became a bit more limber. Behind me, I could hear the others exclaim in surprise about something. Hearing hadn''t improved with everything else.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Gift Received: [Age Reduction]

    Description: Each successful dance and wave of [Ink Nightmares] will reduce William Carver''s age. Statistics lost as a result of [Old Age] will be returned for the duration of this gift. This gift is temporary.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A small box displayed information for me. That was thankfully useful. I couldn¡¯t be expected to cut a rug as an old man, not one who spent too much time being sedentary. The music was a slow general theme. We were both lucky in how well it fit my own personal skills. William Carver himself had no dance traits or abilities that I had ever seen. This was pure me in his body.

    And High Priestess Peach felt almost sinful. If my body had been that of a much younger man I might have reacted quite differently. As it was we spun in time to the beat. Our dance was a slow spin that still managed to lift her dress a tiny amount. Were I able to go faster the other players might just get a glimpse of her birthmark.

    The song went on and with each step I felt a little better, a little straighter, the ache in my shoulder wasn¡¯t as sharp as before. Our dance ended with a bow and another woman stepped up from the audience.

    ¡°Goodbye, you old goat,¡± Priest Peach said with a single dripping tear. ¡°Goodbye.¡± And she faded away leaving me facing a new partner, one who looked a little hurt.

    ¡°Where are my manners.¡± I tried to turn on all of Carver''s lady-killing charm. ¡°May I have this dance?¡±

    ¡°My wild man, I¡¯ve been waiting for this dance for years.¡± This woman looked familiar from Carver''s sometimes extremely vivid descriptions. Each one was familiar in some form or another. In the background over each woman¡¯s shoulder, there were visible signs of a struggle. The players were busy fending off waves of other creatures. These were like the ones from outside the maze only smaller and more numerous. Probably the [Ink Nightmare]s mentioned in my gift description.

    Screaming was muted under the sound of music and each partner¡¯s movements. They followed better than Maud had, likely assisted by the machine. My brain couldn''t wrap itself around each one of these NPCs practicing dancing just to wait for Carver to kick the bucket. In their minds this was all a dream. Which answered one of the age old questions, do robots dream? They do indeed, of Old Man Carver sweeping them across the dance floor.

    I chuckled as partners exchanged again. Moving had grown far easier. Eyesight had recently approached real world clarity. Each dance partner was further and further along Carver''s time line here in Continue. Another, and another, until finally I was standing with an elf of some sort. She was rather good looking. Her neck was long and shoulders slender. There was a litheness to her form that belayed a ballet dancer. It was easy to see why William Carver might have done any mission she ever requested.

    "Is it almost over?!" HotPants'' yelling had grown far clearer now.

    "I think so, this is the last one!"

    "Just a little longer!" SweetPea was busy pressing hands over a wounded Shadow. He laid there gasping for breath off to one side of the dance floor.

    "You heard the lady, one last dance." I said softly to the elf. No amount of time reversals could bring Carver back to perfect. He started this game physically worn out and kept right on going. Regardless, my back was much better. Only now did I truly appreciate the kind of stones he had. He played a game where everything felt almost too real and risked it all to achieve his dream here in a fantasy world.

    "And here we are, back to your first in our world." My nameless elven partner smiled as we moved across the floor. She was a bit more talkative than the others had been.

    "I remember." I didn''t, but William had.

    "You know, if you''d danced as well back then as you do now, I might never have let you leave."

    "I had adventures to go on." William Carver did. Who could say what I myself might have done.

    "I waited you know. I''m still waiting." She was sad too. The other ladies had all worn different expressions. Some were full of joy, others were nearly possessive. Two went so far as to give Carver a firm smack on the ass, which meant I bore their aggressive tactics in his stead.

    "I don''t think I''ll ever make it back."

    "I knew you never would.¡± She sighed and it felt like the wind moved through us softly. ¡°You were the first Traveler I''d ever seen you know."

    I took her hand and stepped into a dance. The music sounded a bit more aggressive, and I treated the motions as such, confident that the machine could keep up. Her commentary was difficult to respond to. This elf, a woman whose name I never learned from Carver''s journals, knew he wasn''t a local.

    "I''m sorry."

    Our steps were wide movements, bringing us from one end of the labyrinths dance hall to the other. Walls of inky purple had grown to nearly nothing over the course of many partners.

    "Hold it!"

    "SweetPea, tell me you got more of those heals!"

    "Yes!"

    "Get HotPants back together."

    There was a crash of flame and fire off to the side that had grown much more obvious as my avatar in the game improved. Eyesight could see where streams of tiny creatures had fallen. The players were torn, blood dripped everywhere. Horror crisscrossed my face as I realized that they were in trouble while I had been enjoying a myriad of beautiful women. Not only trouble, they were getting beat senseless.

    "Thank you Grant, for giving me one last moment with him." Her commentary was enough to be the final straw on my fragmented attention. My well-practiced steps completely fall apart.

    I twisted a foot and lost myself. The cane, which had somehow been tucked into a rope of my clothing, fell loose with a clatter. From the ground I turned and looked at the woman who used my real name, both worried and hopeful that I might see my deceased fianc¨¦e. No such luck. She was a slender thing with none of the same facial features.

    "Goodbye William. May whatever passes for Voices in your world be kind in their judgments."

    Then she too faded away.

    "It''s done!" One of the players shouted.

    "They''ve stopped spawning!" SweetPea was really into it now. No longer did she hide, in fact, she was fiercely participating in the fight now. Awesome Jr. was cradling an arm and busy eying a pile of dead monsters. Glass was everywhere and parts of bushes were on fire.

    "Melissa, use whatever you''ve got left to heal the others." Awesome Jr. was huffing and waved SweetPea off to the other players.

    I watched all of this while confusion racked through my mind. The ground looked far more normal. Above us there was a hint of dawn pushing back inky darkness. The ground started to rumble.

    "Oh good god." HotPants was trying to push herself back up with the staff. SweetPea''s hands glowed with a faint blue over her back and sent some lights spiraling into her back.

    "I don''t know how much I have left..." The little healer said.

    "It''s okay, I think. Carver''s done." Awesome Jr. was rubbing SweetPea''s back trying to reassure her.

    "Jesus wept. Look at him." HotPants said. "That''s not the same guy. Robot. Not the same robot."

    "No, he''s not."

    I looked down and took stock in the differences. Not only was the robe I had come to love completely gone, I was wearing some sort of scale mail. Heavy, but this armor was flexible enough to move around in.

    One hand went for the cane out of habit and I managed to get both feet under me. Nearby the flashing inky colors that lingered about [Maze of Midnight] shuddered. Suddenly blacks, purples, and blues dripped off the plants and crawled towards the dance floor. My band filled background was gone. If I were a betting man this event called for some epic boss music. Sure enough almost in time with my standing the inks swarmed together forming a larger mass.

    "Voices have mercy." I swore in the back of my brain.

    More vein like collections of ink poured in from around us. Globs would reach up towards the sky, stacking on top of each and forming a giant creature. Almost like it was pulling up from the depths of some artist''s nightmare. First a giant leg, then a forearm. The shape looked dreadfully familiar.

    "Is that?" Awesome Jr. asked.

    "Oh no. No, no, no. I''m not nearly strong enough for that. I want to hit stuff, not be pummeled senselessly. I don''t need that in here."

    "It''s not a real one." Shadow protested with a hint of doubt in his tone.

    The cane was a giant sword again. The tip much easier to keep up with Carver''s improved grip. Behind me the other players were gathering together in a huddle. Whispers went back and forth about what to do next. Meanwhile our enemy grew even bigger, taller, thicker, until we faced a creature that took up a huge chunk of the room.

    "That''s a nope."

    "Complete nope." SweetPea agreed. "So gross."

    SweetPea was dead on with her assessment. We weren''t just looking at a normal dragon shaped creature. This had no wings on its back. Littered all over the claws, shoulders, spine, and down to the tails tip were little tentacles. Just like the monsters we had been fighting before.

    "What do we do?" HotPants whispered a very good question.

    "The door behind us is closed," SweetPea said with a note of panic.

    There was only one thing to do. Only one choice William Carver would make. I readied the blade to one side, took the stance Peg trained me in, and pulled up every ounce of foolish courage available. There was a welling of energy that rushed up my arms and to the top of my head. A mad sort of grin lifted my ears.

    "LEEERRROOOYYYYYYYYYYY!" The sheer silliness of my battle cry counteracted the terror. That and the giant sword, something about it was a great equalizer.

    I got one good swing in, slashing across the giant monstrosity¡¯s leg. A tail came and my arm automatically moved to use the flat edge of the sword for a block. There was enough time for a prayer of thanks to the Voices above for giving me an assist. Carver''s skills, not mine, would carry the majority of this fight.

    "If he''s going, I''m going." Shadow was much easier to hear now that I wasn''t completely enfeebled by virtual old age.

    "Right." Awesome Jr. agreed. "It''s just a game..."

    I got another good swipe in before a giant paw came down from above to crush me. This one was slow enough that I could move out of the way. If dance had taught me one thing, it was how to get across a space in one or two easy steps.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Grasping tentacles reached out of the giant leg and clawed at the parts of me too close. Health points shaved off in bits. I stepped further back and swung the lightened blade. Where my sword passed, globs of inky monsters came apart.

    "Carver!" A player cried out.

    "Old Man!"

    "To hell with this, if he can do it, I can." HotPants charged in from the side of his right leg and gave a stab.

    "Ugh!" Her staff sunk into the monstrous forearm and refused to come out.

    "HotPants!" Awesome Jr. hadn''t hesitated in lighting up one of his flasks. "I''ve only got three more!"

    "Make them count!"

    "Aim for the head!" Shadow yelled.

    I dodged another blow from the tail and rolled away. Pain waved through the shoulder and a computer assist allowed me to keep grip on the sword somehow. Heat flashed as two more imitation Molotovs lit up. One got the monster''s shoulder resulting in a giant shriek of anger. Noise far deeper than the ones outside rippled through the mazes inner sanctum.

    "Carver!" I turned and looked ask the second ball of fire went off. This one completely missed the creature due to his sudden withdrawal.

    ¡°What?!¡±

    ¡°Look out!¡± SweetPea cried, her voice turning into a high pitched whine.

    Oh. The creature¡¯s tail swept in again and caught me full on in the middle. Part of the blade was up in a block, not enough to resolve the collision. I went flying into a wall of bushes. These bordered between the cleansed green and inky taint.

    ¡°SweetPea!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t distract the NPC!¡± Shadow yelled while stomping downward at the latest pile of little tentacle monsters to come out of the big creature.

    ¡°But I was helping!¡± She wasn¡¯t really.

    ¡°Shut up and kill the little ones before they crawl back!¡± HotPants screamed. She was busy trying to sweep a pile of them away with her staff. ¡°The little ones keep giving that big guy health!¡±

    ¡°We know!¡± Awesome Jr. was yelling too. Everyone was, their bodies damaged and run down. William Carver''s existence could see the pop up boxes forming off to the side of the party¡¯s screens. They were receiving increases to abilities as each one practiced with their virtual lives on the line.

    I growled and tried to stand back up. The sword slipped and lost my progress. Another whack from one forearm sent me sprawling a second time. The world rung and Carver''s vision took a turn for the worse.

    ¡°Come on.¡± This time I pushed through all the protests and got back to my feet. A third crash of flames poured against the boss monster''s arm and set it shrieking.

    Carver¡¯s fancy blade swung. Light formed on the top along with a notification of various abilities colliding together in some super move. There was no time to read the system text as I tightened my face and pulled with all the simulated strength Carver had. My unintended move connected and severed the already burning leg.

    ¡°Get them!¡± Shadow yelled again.

    ¡°I¡¯m out of fire potions!¡±

    ¡°Figure out something useful then!¡± Shadow and Awesome Jr. seemed destined to babble at each other. The creature fell off balance with another roar which stunned us completely. Their continued argument was muffled in the ringing that followed the creature''s shout.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Stunned! Abilities requiring focus suffer a 50% penalty.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°No. Not yet.¡± My arm wiggled but failed to move correctly. Only four weeks of clutching at a cane kept my hand''s grip strong.

    HotPants couldn¡¯t swing her staff but she did manage to fall onto one side and squish a few of the small scattered enemies. If she could do that much, then William Carver should be at least twice as stubborn.

    ¡°Come on.¡± It was becoming a mantra as I fought to stand.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Stubborn as a Mule] activated. Stun effects reduced. Abilities require focus suffer a 20% penalty.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Come on!¡± Twenty percent was still too much. I had to get myself back into the fight in order to protect the others. They were having a hard time against little ones.

    I stomped a foot against the ground as hard as possible. Jarring shock rippled up the leg, spine, and to the top of my head. Double vision pieced back together in time to hear a second scream that repeated the effects of the first.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Stunned! Abilities requiring focus suffer an additional 50% penalty.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Double stuns?!¡± Awesome Jr. groaned and fell to his knees amid a series of broken enemies. Their arms still twitched even though their health bars were empty.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Stubborn as a Mule] updated. Stun effects reduced. Abilities require focus suffer a 40% penalty.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The giant creature took strides across the room. One formally severed arm half formed in a skeletal mockery of itself. There were no eyes to speak of on the creature, but it¡¯s jaw was grinning as damaged limbs stumbled forth.

    ¡°Ru-u-un!¡± SweetPea stuttered.

    Carver, did, not, run. No matter how caring these teenager''s warnings were. I would stand my ground. I would swing this sword over and over until there was nothing left. Nope, instead I took another claw to the body. The pain sent me flying far enough that there was time to wonder what a bear''s attack would feel like. Likely very similar, more mass and strength over the small tears of these tentacle creatures. Bearing the brunt of a third attack brought my already fading health bar down to twenty percent.

    Blood was everywhere. Vision blurred by streams of sweat. The sword was still in my hand. I had mere seconds to get back to my feet before the creature would attack again. Another one of those hits would maim me. Maim Carver. Whatever.

    One knee was up, the leg didn¡¯t have enough strength to force me to stand. Both hands were gripped around the giant sword''s handle. I glared at the creature in my best old man defiance.

    ¡°I will not die lying down.¡± Carver would not die lazing about. He would stand and fight. He would stand and swing, and swing, and swing.

    I, however, slipped and fell. The one knee I had propped up lost purchase and left me hanging on by the edge of Carver''s sword. At least there was still that minor dignity.

    A weight pressed on my shoulder and hissed. Then spat a small ball of fire. I had enough awareness to glance to the side. A small [Messenger''s Pet]''s was spitting defiance at the larger creature. The sheer audacity of my situation must have set the boss monster back because it growled and roared.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Stunned! Abilities requiring focus suffer an additional 50% penalty.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Oh god. We¡¯re all screwed.¡± Shadow was pressed against the ground. One eye tilted up, seeing the giant creature towering over the lot of us. The boss was smaller than before, having lost some mass to the destruction of its wriggling bits.

    I tried to stand up again. Both hands pulled with frail strength upon the sword''s hilt. The blade dug into tile and ground below in response. Even if this horrifyingly giant mass of squiggles descended those jaws my direction. A pitiful death would invalidate my attempt to give him a stellar ending.

    ¡°His health. It keeps going down.¡±

    I winced and realized that the wounds all over my body had applied a bleed of some sort. My quarter of health was down to ten percent. This was not fair. This was not the way things should end. I would not die on the ground. I would stand on my feet. I would go out like Carver wanted.

    SweetPea reached out with one hand to try and heal me. Her battered form stretched across the ground and a torn look across her features. I had enough strength to look around and weakly smile at the lot of them. They were only here on this fool''s errand because of me. Me, and this brilliant idea to take Carver into a dungeon. [Messenger''s Pet] was still spitting tiny balls of fire out. They were minuscule before the bigger monster, but enough to cause it to flinch at times as chunks sizzled.

    Brief moments of respite allowed me to struggle back to my feet. Everything felt worse than it had. My strength from the dances had faded. The sword in my hands turned back to its cane. Both knees locked up into position in order to keep me upright. Pain flared between my shoulders as everything hunched again. There, just like my first day as William Carver, I stood. Putting on an air of pride.

    We, Carver and I, would die on our feet. By all the Voices Continue had to offer, by all the mental willpower available to me. I would grace him with that image at least.

    But I might close my eyes just a little.

    There was another roar from the boss. As if my debilitation could get any worse. Another wave rippled through preceded by a giant stomp. Another giant footstep came through and a sixth roar.

    This time a much louder, much angrier cry answered the boss. From above and behind, somewhere in the distance came a loud scream that sounded more like thunder than a giant lion. I opened one eye a little and saw the nearly empty health bar. A cough full of blood sputtered out of my old form.

    The other eye opened and vision swam into focus. Something new collided at high speeds with the boss monster. A shock wave rippled as the two connected. I pulled together what little willpower was left. [Identification] triggered on the newest creature.

    Failure abounded. Repetitive stuns had made pretty much skill usage impossible. I had a hunch, given the sleek azure skin and thinned look. A female I think. That shade matching her scales lined up with the scarf of a certain orphanage caretaker. It also matched scales I handed over to that very same woman.

    ¡°Who is that?¡± Someone whispered but my ears were muffled from all the yells.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Carver''s almost dead, do you have anything left?¡± Awesome Jr. asked.

    ¡°Better yet, why is that dragon helping?¡±

    ¡°She, I think.¡± HotPants said.

    She, the giant azure dragon, was going to town on the creature of nightmares and ink. Relief washed across my face. It was enough to make me happy in this path. I stayed on my feet and suffered the buffet of wings and near misses of huge limbs. Wingtips, balls of flame, and conglomerations of tentacle monsters passed me where I stood. My health dipped into critical and started flashing.

    I nodded and bore witness to the scene.

    Flames proved to be the nightmare''s downfall. Ball after ball of light orange fire spat out of the dragon''s maw. Each one sending the boss creature into fits as it shrank visibly and writhed. Soon there was nothing but a growing puddle of goo.

    Finally its health bar reached rock bottom. She, the dragon, let out a few more blasts to ensure that the enemy¡¯s health went into the negatives.

    I tried to smile but instead hit rock bottom myself and slipped downward again. Rapidly my legs gave out and soon Carver''s body was on the ground. I had a front row view of the large dragon shrinking and twisting upon itself. The dragon was turning back towards me and in moments she turned into human form.

    Our mystery rescuer was Mylia, the Half-Dragon orphanage Mother. Her hands reached for a scarf and wrapped it back across her hair. The blue knitted clothing was now obviously hiding a small pair of horns and a tint of azure scales that hung around her forehead. One more mystery solved of why she looked the way she did. She was practically dainty now as she screamed out Carver''s name.

    ¡°Carver!¡±

    I tried to smile but barely moved my eyes in her direction.

    ¡°Carver!¡± She shouted again. Did no one want to use my, I mean his, first name?

    ¡°Mylia.¡± I croaked.

    ¡°SweetPea, can you do anything?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m completely out. Empty. Do you have any bandages?¡±

    "Nothing for that level of damage." HotPants said.

    ¡°Anyone have anything?¡± Awesome Jr. sounded nearly frantic. The four of them were standing around now, moving but not nearly as broken as I was. They at least had slivers of health remaining.

    ¡°Mylia.¡± I croaked again.

    ¡°I¡¯m here Carver.¡±

    Swallowing hurt. Breathing was beyond difficult. There was a taste of copper in the back of my mouth that would make me barf again if there was any strength to do so. I had nothing left but still had room for a final push. I won and succeeded in a final adventure. There was one thing left to do.

    ¡°Tell me a story, Mylia.¡± My lips felt dry. Everything hurt more than normal. Pain was rapidly fading though into a numb sensation.

    ¡°I will. I will, you just have to make it through. We¡¯ll get High Priestess Peach here, or I''ll carry you.¡±

    ¡°Mylia.¡± I whispered with all the strength left to my old body.

    ¡°Mister Carver. You don¡¯t die now, what will the kids do?¡±

    ¡°Tell me a story.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± She was crying.

    ¡°You promised... to think about it.¡±

    ¡°I, I don¡¯t know where to start.¡±

    ¡°Your story Mylia.¡± I gasped and coughed. The vile taste in the back my throat grew worse and breathing was harder. Another wracking wave of coughs as my frail form couldn¡¯t double up. Carver wouldn¡¯t cry, I existed beyond this game, but right now there was nothing else. Mylia was getting a chance to say goodbye and that was something everyone deserved.

    ¡°What do I say? How do I start?¡±

    ¡°Once upon a time,¡± SweetPea said. ¡°That¡¯s how all the best stories start.¡±

    "So clich¨¦." Shadow muttered. HotPants poked him weakly.

    I tugged at Mylia''s sleeve in desperation. Neither eye seemed capable of focusing. They slowly drifted downward and barely worked. Blackness haunted the edges of my vision.

    ¡°Okay. Okay, a story. But you have to stay with me, Mister Carver.¡± She swallowed too and wiped away her tears. Moments later they returned but she worked through.

    ¡°Once upon a time¡­¡± Mylia Jacobs whispered.

    The flashing health bar stopped with one final blare of red. I lost my grip on the cane and blackness descended, leaving her story unheard. A message slowly appeared upon my screen.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You have died.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I reached for the logout button before anything else could interrupt me. My mind was in no mood to handle anymore tonight.

 Book 1, Memories; Conclude - Data Stored to Autopilot

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Data Recording of the entity known as James ¨C an AI in Continue Online.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°As a Voice there are many sensations we notice, that are invisible to the normal denizens of our universe. Emotions, thoughts, how parts of the Traveler¡¯s brain react when presented standard stimulus. Each item is captured and used to build an impression of a Traveler.

    It is not easy.

    Most of our charges are difficult to follow and require a level of focus that we cannot spare. Grant Legate has been a bright spot, both here in our plane, and down on the core world of [Arcadia]. He is still in a limbo between our worlds. We have used this fact as a gateway to clarity on the people below. His performance has been positive overall.

    Four other Travelers to our world joined Grant Legate. They have acquitted themselves well and were rewarded accordingly, in the fashion that Travelers seem to enjoy. All four have been marked by us for further review. They may prove useful.

    I will attempt to capture their state of mind since they traveled to our world, and replay it for the record. Many of these items will be lacking in detail due to limited observation time. Perceptions cited are based on actions and conversations the Travelers have participated in. First, however, we must recount of those moments following the cessation of William Carver from [Arcadia] proper. This will help to further cement our interest in the Travelers involved.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    The Last Recorded Events Following William Carver''s passing

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    William Carver laid on the ground with his eyes vacantly staring off. The wrinkles of his face had nearly forced them shut in his last moments. There were no tears on him, only wounds from where he had proudly fought during his last moments. Mylia Jacobs, the caretaker for [Haven Valley]¡¯s orphanage, had arrived too late.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± HotPants asked. ¡°Can we do anything?¡±

    ¡°I know CPR in real life, but I¡¯ve never tried to use it in game,¡± Awesome Jr. said. He frantically searched through menu options for additional ingredients. Two potions were poured into each other and promptly started overflowing with mucus. The bottle was thrown to one side and Awesome Jr. looked even more upset.

    ¡°Miss, let Adam, I mean Awesome try.¡± SweetPea was next to Mylia and pleading. Tears in her eyes could be seen. The girl had pulled off her hoodie and was holding it in one hand.

    ¡°No. No.¡± Mylia was shaking her head back and forth. ¡°It won¡¯t help. He¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I can¡­¡± The teen male said with a lost look.

    Mylia shook her head and rocked slowly. Her eyes were closed and face seemed to be warping slightly. A temporary bulge on her forehead grew as horns came out only to recede again. The players were hesitant to come close after seeing the giant form she had been minutes ago.

    ¡°He¡¯s gone.¡± The orphan caretaker sounded sure. ¡°The Voices have taken him.¡±

    ¡°How do you know?¡± SweetPea asked slowly.

    ¡°You¡¯ll see soon.¡± She sat there cradling the head of an old man and said a prayer. Her eyes stayed closed as a prayer passed across her lips. ¡°May the Voices have mercy William Carver.¡±

    ¡°I still find this world hard to understand. He¡¯s just a program, so are you, why does anyone care?¡± HotPants had managed to keep herself steady during this exchange. Partly because standing on her own two feet required an intense amount of focus.

    ¡°William wasn¡¯t always one of ours, a local. He was once like you four, a Traveler. Only so many have forgotten.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Awesome Jr. was the first to speak up followed quickly by Shadow. Both had the same startled expression on their faces.

    ¡°I met him once, years ago, a few days after my father died.¡± Mylia shook her head. ¡°I was young, lost in the woods, and Mister Carver gave me some food and got me to the nearest city.¡±

    ¡°Was your father, the dragon, that Mister Carver killed?¡± SweetPea was taking point with Mylia. Even HotPants seemed confused on how to handle a crying woman. The two boys were completely out of their depth.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Mylia¡¯s face rippled and shoulders bulged. She was not in a good spot right now, not after the brief but fiery battle.

    ¡°Did you hate Mister Carver for that?¡±

    ¡°No! Voices no, my father was a terrible creature. A terrible vile creature.¡± She gave a very halfhearted chuckle. Hidden in its depths was the hiccup of a repressed sob. ¡°Half dragons don¡¯t come into being easily, and rarely happily.¡± She shook her head.

    ¡°Was Mister Carver a Traveler then?¡±

    ¡°He carried the same air that you all do.¡± Her hand gestured outward towards the four players who sat huddled together.

    ¡°Then he¡¯s not dead, right?¡± They were still gathered like a group of lost children. Even HotPants seemed to seek the comfort of those who were familiar.

    ¡°Wait a minute, that old bastard!¡± HotPants swore repeatedly in fury. ¡°He knew! He told me!¡± The staff started lashing out against the hedge maze¡¯s defenseless walls.

    ¡°If he¡¯s like us, he probably just logged out somewhere.¡±

    ¡°No. He¡¯s dead there too.¡± Mylia¡¯s face twisted and finally one hand brushed at the side of Carver¡¯s still form. Carver¡¯s skin looked faint. Slowly there seemed to be something missing. At first behind the eyes, then more as an absence swallowed William Carver from the inside out.

    ¡°What do you mean, Miss Jacobs?¡± SweetPea asked. She was wringing out the hoodie between both hands. The other players gasped as the last of William¡¯s body vanished with a sound like shattering glass. Mylia nodded slowly.

    ¡°There. When a Traveler can no longer come back, they just, they just break.¡± She pulled off the scarf wrapped around her forehead and dabbed at watery eyes.

    ¡°Is he?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s¡­¡± Shadow muttered. The would-be assassin had been quiet during most of this exchange but still he watched.

    ¡°The Messenger¡¯s Pet. Its name is the meaning, that whoever it follows has something to tell our world.¡± Mylia shook her head slowly back and forth. One arm raised and wiped away at her face.

    ¡°Only in the telling, they often die. Then the Messenger''s Pet will guide the greatest to the Voices.¡± Mylia finally lost it and burst into tears. The four players looked each other.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Data Recording of the entity known as James ¨C an AI in Continue Online - closing statements

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Thus concludes the initial playback of data. Denizen Mylia Jacobs has shared some of her story, though this goal was not completed in time for William Carver¡¯s cessation. Partial credit will be awarded.

    Interestingly it is Grant Legate¡¯s choices with the Travelers that have outweighed his positive achievement regarding the ¡®Final Adventure¡¯ goal. This action alone is deserving of merit and notice by the other Voices. Their results have been compiled and stored into the ¡®Auto Pilot¡¯ feature Travelers may use.

    We will be watching them.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    New Player Results: HotPants

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I never liked the old man. Maybe he reminded me too much of my own asshole father. He used age as a crutch and sent me off to get him food. Like he had no way to support himself. Stupid computer couldn¡¯t get hungry. Why even program that in? Of course I had to make him show me where this Miss Hall woman was too.

    Four days later, and maybe, maybe, I had a little sympathy for the old man. The computer. He kept trying to join me in this training exercise that Miss Hall was putting me through. She was a right ogre of a woman. Still, it was rough enough for me in this virtual world. Things actually hurt, I actually felt tired, everything haunted me even when I logged out of the ARC. But I liked it. Hitting things was the highlight of my day. The system gave me skills or stat bonuses of some sort and I didn¡¯t care.

    Peg, as I discovered she liked to be called, showed me how to do a hand wrapping along with other basic armor issues. That way I had a little defense to go along with my whacking things. She asked why I wanted to learn a staff, I told her that they were useful in my world as well. Swords were a little harder to get a hold of but brooms were everywhere.

    Saturday, the kid came over. He said I looked different. I told him it was because I didn¡¯t have to put up with his father anymore. Maybe that was a mistake, but, give what you get. I can¡¯t wait til his father tries to start shit with me. I¡¯m getting good at hitting things.

    Sunday, just after lunch, the old man got me situated with one of the Guards. They did a good job on the Captain, and I¡¯m not ashamed to say that it reminded me how much time had passed since my last real date. Too bad he was a computer.

    That night me and small group of town guards went out and did night raids on wolf dens. We hit four of them and I nearly died a few times. They showed me some tricks with bandages and cloth while we were out. It seemed familiar and the system prompted some annoying message about skills. At least the whole being attacked thing started making sense. I could safely say wolves were not like beating up stationary straw people.

    The next day the old man and those three children all got together. It took a few hours but I got to hit lots of weird creatures. The thunk of connection gets me every time. These clothes are kind of hot too. Part of me almost felt young again.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Of course, I half expected things to turn out the way they did. Shame, I was starting to like the old man. He was decent, for a computer. I should call dad after I log out. It¡¯s been awhile since we¡¯ve spoken.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    New Player Results: Awesome Jr.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My dad¡¯s name actually is Awesome, at least in game. When I started to play he was busy running a group raid on some dungeon about six hundred miles north of [Haven Valley]. Heck, he only let me play because I started passing my classes. He nagged me constantly, both outside and inside the game. The tell system was downright annoying. I mean, I get that he¡¯s trying hard to make up for mom being sick, but sometimes...

    I had wanted to play for a while, but needed someone to start with. Plus there were other things I could do that wouldn¡¯t be as big a risk to my science class. Melissa had asked me about it a week ago and I freaked out. How often does the girl you like, ask you about something you like? It was perfect.

    Mister Carver made things kind of difficult. Not bad, just, not anything like what I expected. That little winged guy was fast and way too smart. It wasn¡¯t like following a puppy dog in some quest, the little guy lead me straight to each player or their trainer without missing a beat.

    That¡¯s how I figured out who to talk to later. Mister Carver was nice and all, but he was a grump too. Being around him wasn¡¯t any fun.

    I had too much homework to do, so I had to keep popping in and out of the game. SweetPea, Melissa, was doing the same thing. We kept missing each other when we logged on. Or I had been busy running errands for some of the town¡¯s people, while she was cooking or cleaning at one of the Inns.

    Most of the skills I picked up were kind of scattered. I got one for [Thrown Object] after playing makeshift basketball for an hour. It didn¡¯t even tie into weapons specifically, just objects. Another skill had appeared called [Talkative] which helped build reputation with the town folks. Finally, the one that had the most potential, was [Chemistry], a simple enough name for mixing stuff together.

    Then Mister Carver just ropes me in out of the blue. What was the point of that? I wasn¡¯t a super uber fighter or anything. Probably because I hadn¡¯t taken the game seriously, especially compared to Shadow. At least Mister Carver helped me spend time with Melissa, I wanted to cheer when he gave us that cave to spend the night in together.

    I didn¡¯t confess, not exactly, but Melissa didn¡¯t run away either. She talked, a lot, and explored. That was the first time we really managed to be on the game at the same time. My skill, [Mana Sense], made her glow even more. I spent hours keeping it active and watching her.

    Then we did this awesome maze. The place was sweet, colors everywhere, I felt like I was in a Wonderland painting. Or a psychedelic playground that was lit up by black lights. Dad, Awesome, didn¡¯t know that I had seen some of his old collection in the garage.

    Then we let Carver die. Dad says it happens sometimes. That NPCs pass on. Only Mister Carver wasn¡¯t an NPC. Yet we got a [Legacy Wish] from him, so he was part of the system somehow? I don¡¯t think players can give other players quests. I haven¡¯t told dad about this yet. I¡¯m not sure how to break it to him. He gets kind of excited about weird system features and turns school girl over Easter eggs.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    New Player Results: SweetPea (Name Occurrence ID: 3rd)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Melissa didn¡¯t like a lot of things. Dirt, untidy areas, poor hygiene, people being too close, dogs, and more. Too much reading at once gave her a headache. Her parents constantly made her log out to check on things around the house. Public speaking made her tummy do flips.

    She liked Adam. Adam was a goof who didn¡¯t make fun of her issues. Plus his name was Awesome, or was close. It was funny. Melissa would giggle about things when no one was looking, and if anyone actually caught her she blushed and tried to hide.

    The old man was a little different. He seemed so distracted, confused, a lot like her grandmother did in the late afternoon. Melissa, SweetPea, tried to be patient and hard working. She cleaned up around the house in the real world; why not clean up a city where other players existed?

    Melissa had thrown something at an older man who littered right in the middle of town once. Immediately she hid behind a building corner and prayed no one would notice. She had worked hard to clean up the city as she traveled. This man was disrespectful.

    It helped. A little. The world gave her a trait called [Inconspicuous] and backed it up further with [Hidden Threat]. SweatPea didn¡¯t think she was very threatening at all. At least it made people less likely to attack her, Awesome Jr., Adam, seemed like he wanted to go on adventures, so she would go too, but being attacked by monsters so real scared her.

    Each ink creature looked like something from a nightmare at first. SweetPea couldn¡¯t help but hide. Everyone else was so brave though, even Adam, he seemed fearless and kept searching for some way to help. Melissa had gained a few minor spells but actually attacking those things wasn¡¯t in her nature. She could use the one healing spell she got though.

    Then that big gross one appeared. Like a huge pile of squirming, just, grossness. Then so many of the little ones, and she had to start kicking the tiniest ones. They were squishy and made her feel gross but she did it. If Adam could, if William Carver could, then she had to at least try. Mister Carver reminded SweatPea of grandma. And he tried so hard.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    New Player Results: Shadow (Name Occurrence ID: 52nd)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Alan Walters, or as he was known in game, Shadow, had started off the week strong. His training with Master was going well and the basic skills he desired were slowly coming together. It took a lot of work to move a skill past demonstration and into the realized stage. It was worth the effort.

    Chasing down the cow had been a stupid quest, but Old Man Carver had been right. When Alan killed the cow in rage, and was chased off by the owner, he somehow ended up at the front door of a retired assassin for a Duke. It was impossible for him to know if Old Man Carver had intended things to go that way or if it had been a happy accident.

    Wednesday evening he had earned the [Silent Step] trait, perfect for sneaking through crowded areas. Thursday had garnered [Erase Presence] which Alan, Shadow, planned to use in player versus player. Friday he managed to actually sneak up on a stray wolf and realized how Continue Online handled backstabbing. The trick, he had found, was that attacking from the front allowed a chance to dodge. From the back they would be blindsided. That gave Alan all the time he needed for connecting with a critical point.

    Regardless, Alan didn¡¯t hold a grudge since everything worked out. Saturday night he had agreed to Old Man Carver¡¯s group quest. The chance at loot and skills was amazing this early in the game. He assumed it was an event quest. Especially once they had gotten the old NPC talking. The trait they had gained that night by the fire was incredible. [Legacy Wish] read like an overpowered ability. Unique quest offerings, following in a hero¡¯s footsteps, all of it made Alan tingle in excitement.

    Sunday, Carver had died. No coming back. No plot twist. The sudden last minute save by a giant dragon hadn¡¯t been in time. No one showed up to resurrect him. None of the players had skills high enough to try. He was dead, because they weren¡¯t strong enough. Afterwards the game felt just a little too real. A little less friendly, a little bit colder. Somehow that suited Alan perfectly. After all, he had a legacy to uphold.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Trait Received:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Legacy Wish]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Passive, always active</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Travelers possessing the trait [Legacy Wish] will receive the following benefits for any action related to the bestowing entity''s core beliefs.

    - Personalized Quest Offerings

    - 25% faster reputation gain

    - 10% additional progress on all skills demonstrated during Difficult or higher quests

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Conditions:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Upholding the core beliefs of the person bestowing the [Legacy Wish]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Beliefs:</td>

    <td colspan="3">William Carver; seek adventure, assist new players, care for the world of Arcadia.</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Betrayal of the ideals of the [Legacy Wish] provider can result in the wish being removed along with all benefits. Other penalties or change may apply depending upon the conditions.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

 Book 2 - Made; Commencement - Point of View

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    File: Transcript 17A44

    CaptureSource: Games for Gamers - Online Blog - Episode 100

    Time: Approximately four months ago

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Tina: Welcome to Games for Gamers, tonight marks our one-hundredth broadcast, and as a result, we¡¯ve lined up something extra special.

    Roland: Heh.

    Tina: The man here laughing next to me is none other than Roland Yigher, also known as Daniel Boone in the world of Continue Online.

    Roland: Hey now. It¡¯s a good name, and remember we can¡¯t talk about too much of the in-game stuff.

    Tina: Right, tonight¡¯s interview comes with rules laid down by Trillium International, our lord and masters, and the makers of Continue Online. Thank you, Roland, for the reminder.

    Roland: Heh.

    Tina: First rule, I can¡¯t ask questions directly about the game setting itself, this includes skills, special locations, or other items of that nature.

    Roland: Right, Tina.

    Tina: Secondly to that, I can¡¯t overtly ask questions about the game.

    Roland: When it doubt, see rule number one.

    Tina: Do not talk about Fight Club.

    Roland: Basically, yeah. The lawyers have had a field day with all the information constantly being posted. Technically AIs, and I¡¯m talking the stuff that makes military grade drones seem dumb, off the charts, we¡¯ve got a slew of specs just to bring down sites as soon as they get uploaded.

    Tina: While we¡¯re on the subject, Roland, I¡¯ve heard a number of private servers are knocked out almost seconds after posting information.

    Roland: Anything we can find. Average response time is about three seconds.

    Tina: Alright, tonight¡¯s focus is not on Internet freedom rehashes, instead our questions for Roland will feature items compiled from our audience in advance. These questions have been reviewed by Trillium for possible issues and those that received a pass will get asked.

    Roland: All above board I hope, Tina.

    Tina: Of course, we¡¯re not trying to risk any jobs, we''re only trying to understand the science behind the magic.

    Roland: That can be dangerous too.

    Tina: Question one is simple enough, why a fantasy world? Why not space ships or super heroes?

    Roland: Well, the original project was proposed by what is now known as the ARC lab, their head scientist had been an avid game follower and loved some of the earliest prototype VR machines.

    Tina: The old headsets, visual and audio, that kind of thing?

    Roland: Right. There were a few that went with game consoles but were limited in their immersion.

    Tina: Good start, keep going, Roland.

    Roland: Sure, Tina, so fantasy, which is rich with lore and a lot of unexplained stories seemed the best bet. It¡¯s hard to delve into a space setting because it requires a huge knowledge of sciences, which our average player base wouldn¡¯t have.

    Tina: So it was easier to explain away.

    Roland: In essence. The ARC Lab wanted the freedom to create world that drew on all the lore and stories already out there, without having to micromanage the laws of science.

    Tina: Yet the ARC is used for space exploration training, so one could argue that it supports those laws as well.

    Roland: Those are simulations and on a much, much smaller scale than Continue Online. Without exposing too much, there¡¯s a lot in Continue that¡¯s researched and developed by players, it wasn¡¯t thought out ahead of time.¡±

    Tina: Alright. We¡¯d pursue that if there was time, but I¡¯ll keep going forward. Next question. The time dilation. How exactly is that accomplished? The technology for it still hasn¡¯t been successfully reproduced in any other machine.

    Roland: Well, Tina. It¡¯s not done all in one go. Part of Continue Online requires new players to stay in town for four weeks.

    Tina: Before you keep going, are you okay sharing these details?

    Roland: Thanks, Tina, but this much is fine. This is only one detail that is explained right at the login of Continue. Everyone who''s tried the game knows it.

    Tina: Public knowledge.

    Roland: Right. Anyway, the game requires you to spend four weeks in a starting town, which amounts to one week in the real world.

    Tina: The four to one distortion.

    Roland: Exactly. Anyway, you¡¯re not truly at four to one during the first four weeks. Many of the introductory tasks are boring repetitive ones. The AIs that control player interaction assist by skipping time here and there.

    Tina: Like a quick day at work?

    Roland: Right. Or like those dreams that seem to last forever but really only take up ten minutes.

    Tina: I love those.

    Roland: It¡¯s like that. There are periods where your character is doing mundane tasks that you¡¯ve shown determination to do, but you as a player are skipping in and out of the game. Gliding over portions so the stress on your mind is lessened.

    Tina: This speeds up during the first week of real time?

    Roland: Right you are, and by the fourth week in-game, your mind is used to operating at the quicker speed while logged into Continue.

    Tina: Does this translate back into real world mental acuity?

    Roland: Testing shows it does, but not at any super human speed, in fact nearly everything learned in the ARC can be used in real life, aside from the fantastical items like fireballs and summoning creatures.

    Tina: Too bad.

    Roland: Right? But martial arts, aiming things, all of that does.

    Tina: That leads into our next question. Legally, what sort of worries does Trillium have regarding the things taught in Continue? And I¡¯ll cite a case for our example.

    Roland: Go ahead.

    Tina: A few decades ago there was a giant move by lawmakers to restrict video games in general, citing that people were learning violent tendencies from them. Given Continue Online¡¯s realism, or anything in the ARC, this is becoming a serious fear again. What does Trillium plan to do about it?

    Roland: Well there¡¯s a few possibilities. First, Trillium itself is international, it¡¯s not based in any one country, so making a law that restricts it can be very difficult.

    Tina: That¡¯s a given, but there are previous cases of countries completely banning games within their borders, prior massively multi-player online games have been subjected to this before.

    Roland: Indeed, Trillium''s first step was to integrate the ARC into everyday use for a lot of things outside the game.

    Tina: Okay, what next?

    Roland: Then, in the terms and conditions of using an ARC, there¡¯s a clause that states if any legal steps are taken to restrict Trillium''s suite of software, they reserve the right to pull the entire ARC lineup from the offending country.

    Tina: Is that word for word?

    Roland: I paraphrased a lot because of the legal jargon, but it¡¯s in there.

    Tina: So bBasically Trillium has a stranglehold on the market.

    Roland: It can feel like that, but everyone has the ability to say no, after all, the ARC isn¡¯t a required device for anyone. It¡¯s a luxury item across the board, civilians, government, corporations; none of them are forced to take contracts.

    Tina: You can¡¯t argue that the ARC device has created a veritable stranglehold, though.

    Roland: I can say that our AIs are top notch due to The ARC Lab''s research. I can say that we have some of the best technology to date out there, and the backing of the people.

    Tina: But you can¡¯t say you have a stranglehold on the entire immersion market?

    Roland: No, we don¡¯t force anybody or actively seek contracts anymore. The only time we pursued funding was during the start-up phase, after that Trillium and ARC had too much to try and grasp for more, besides, many of Trillium''s employees enjoy Continue as well, so we don¡¯t need to fight over comforts this side of the ARC.

    Tina: Was there anything else with regard to Trillium''s legal defense?

    Roland: We don¡¯t force people to learn things, they choose to, it¡¯s no different than locking yourself in a room swinging a kitchen knife. Plus most countries have a right to bear arms after the Melt Down wars. So from the government''s standpoint, at least here in the North Americas, it¡¯s like having a well-trained militia ready at any moment.

    Tina: That¡¯s morbid.

    Roland: Trillium and the government are being very forward thinking on this. The technology is dangerous if abused, but so is a rock in the hands of someone willing to lift it.

    Tina: Hah, that¡¯s funny, Roland.

    Roland: It¡¯s true. People are worried about someone going in and learning how to shoot a gun, so Continue wasn¡¯t placed in a modern setting, but there are other ARC programs that are just as immersing and don¡¯t focus on swords and sorcery. We don¡¯t regulate them for what they teach people.

    Tina: Why not?

    Roland: I could go on about it, but most of this, and the laws cited by country, are stated on Trillium''s web page. Legal has done an amazing job of citing case and counter case, Tina, and I¡¯d shame myself trying to repeat their brilliance on that front.

    Tina: Interesting. That brings us to the last topic, and this one is a doozy too.

    Roland: If it¡¯s the one I¡¯m thinking of, Tina, we could go around and around on it.

    Tina: I won¡¯t ask for the byline, our viewers want to hear what it¡¯s like from someone who''s been immersed in Continue for longer than your average player.

    Roland: Fair enough. Ask the question though so we¡¯re all on the same page.

    Tina: Continue operates at a higher speed, so a year here, is almost four there. How do you think it will play out? Do you have ideas about the future of humanity if we¡¯re torn on where we¡¯re spending our time?

    Roland: I don¡¯t think of it as being torn. I think of it as a lease on a longer life. The immersion ratio is huge. Many of my coworkers will put in a full day here then do a day or two in Continue, getting something near three to one for their time. Ask your grandparents how much they would have loved to find extra hours in the day to learn the things they wanted to.

    Tina: Like skills in the game?

    Roland: I¡¯ll do a common one, fishing, you can fish in Continue and there are some interesting rewards, but mostly it¡¯s peaceful. Instead of commenting how this links back to real life, many of us use this as a vacation.

    Tina: Okay, I¡¯ll bite, what do you mean?

    Roland: Imagine that instead of being forced to plan a trip three weeks ahead of time, that you just grab the family, all of you log in and spend the day together on a beach, or fishing. Or watching an arena duel, heck, maybe your family has an entire army to lead that night in some battle.

    Tina: And then what?

    Roland: That¡¯s it. That¡¯s the afternoon. You can go to work tomorrow, or school, whatever, but you¡¯ve got the chance to have a vacation every single night if you want, with whomever you want. If nothing else, the ARC is amazing for affording people these kinds of chances.

    Tina: We¡¯re veering a little off point, but you¡¯re still bringing up something important, Roland.

    Roland: I hope so. My wife and I are closer than ever, instead of planning anniversaries or date nights, we do a quest, or tackle a tournament, or spar. The woman is hell with a sword. There¡¯s enough time for everyone to spend together¡­

    Tina: Or apart.

    Roland: Heh, well the missus prefers to keep an eye on me.

    Tina: Some of those avatars are saucy.

    Roland: You¡¯re going to get me in a different sort of trouble here, Tina.

    Tina: Sorry.

    Roland: Anyway, here, there, time is relative, but I think this ability to live however you choose is the whole point of Continue. It¡¯s in the name.

    Tina: There is a certain freedom to being able to wander the world without ever leaving your bedroom.

    Roland: Or, heh, being able to spend time with your wife in the bedroom while stationed across the country.

    Tina: Now you¡¯re digging your own hole. This one isn¡¯t my fault.

    Roland: You¡¯re right, Tina, but don¡¯t get me wrong, there are thrills, challenges, everything you could want if you Continue Online.

    Tina: Well done.

    Roland: Thanks. I thought it was clever.

    Tina: Anyway, that¡¯s all we have tonight folks, Games for Gamers signing off. Say goodnight Roland.

    Roland: Goodnight, Roland.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    File: Transcript 13Q42

    CaptureSource: Stranger Danger - Online Blog - Episode 45

    Time: Approximately two months ago

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Benn Tower: Folks, for those of you just tuning in, this is a broadcast for Stranger Danger''s website to bring you, The Word, I''m your host Benn Tower, and we''re sitting here with Deacon Rochelle. Today''s topic? Societies latest blind spot, the Alternate, Reality, Capsule.

    Benn Tower: I''m going to pick up this subject by addressing the name first off. Alternate Reality? Really? The name alone is a pretentious play on words. As if they''ve created an entirely different reality on par with our own.

    Deacon Rochelle: As if they could outshine what God has created.

    Benn Tower: Exactly, and then there''s the letters, A, R, C. An Ark, acting like a single device is on par with Noah''s Ark. Tell me this isn''t an attempt at idolatry.

    Deacon Rochelle: The name is only one of the many flaws.

    Benn Tower: We''ll get to the other issues in a moment, but this is a good starting place for those just now tuning in.

    Deacon Rochelle: I agree, but the name is the first hint.

    Benn Tower: So here''s how this thing works. You plug it in, connect to Trillium''s servers, and your brain actually goes on a trip, into the ether, cyberspace, la la land. With the munchkins and elves and faerie people. But, before I get ahead of myself, I want you to understand that people are sitting in these things for hours at a time. Hours.

    Deacon Rochelle: A pure waste of a God given gift.

    Benn Tower: So, plugged in, for hours, and all of their thoughts, impulses, reactions are routed through a central source. There''s the first problem, all your information isn''t yours anymore, it isn''t sacred, it isn''t, yours, anymore, Trillium International has access to everything.

    Deacon Rochelle: It''s selfish, and a violation of privacy.

    Benn Tower: You¡¯re a woman of the cloth, when people come to you for a confessional, there''s a vow of trust, that what they say, won''t be spread around.

    Deacon Rochelle: Yes, exactly. My vows are held by the highest authority, God.

    Benn Tower: So these people, plugged in, everything they do subjected to who knows what sort of twisted minds Trillium has employed, while people use these pretentious machines for sin.

    Deacon Rochelle: Far too often. The Internet was bad enough thirty years ago, now it''s only grown worse.

    Benn Tower: Here''s some statistics for you, four out of every five people owning an Alternate, Reality, Capsule, have used it to simulate adultery. The problem is that these simulations are professed to have achieved near hundred percent authenticity.

    Deacon Rochelle: It''s not just limited to adultery, these programs simulate sodomy, men laying with other men, or women, and all the things one could imagine.

    Benn Tower: So these devices are encouraging people to engage in immoral actions. Not just the sins of lust, but murder. Murder, this is where things start to go way, way downhill. First though, I need to explain how these ARC devices came into being. Deacon, bear with me while I explain to the uninitiated.

    Deacon Rochelle: By all means.

    Benn Tower: So these devices, the Alternate, Reality, Capsules, were first brainstormed by The ARC Labs, a company under Trillium International. Their first client? The newly expanded United States Government. Right to the biggest warmongers in the world.

    Deacon Rochelle: Especially after the Melt Down Wars.

    Benn Tower: Right, this government participated in one of the biggest murder sprees in this millennium, and now they''re standing behind a device that allows people to experience anything they want. For completely altruistic reasons I''m sure.

    Deacon Rochelle: Not even.

    Benn Tower: Government sponsored. Not just the good old USA warmongers, but others too. I won''t bother naming them all, but it''s the who''s who of slaughter encouraging kings.

    Benn Tower: Now they''ve got first crack at shaping this device, and I''m going to throw some more numbers at you. Listeners, can you guess how many programs on this Alternate Reality Capsule, simulate senseless mayhem? There are over four hundred games dedicated solely to the idea of putting people, human beings, against other human beings for combat.

    Deacon Rochelle: It goes against everything a good and decentperson should stand for.

    Benn Tower: So here''s the numbers folks. One in six. One in six people, in the world, right now, has accessed the ARC devices, and killed another person, keep in mind these are ultra realistic simulations, basically Trillium has walked up to every person in the world and said ''here''s a gun, go shoot your friend in the face.'', and the kicker people, is that one in six, one in six has done it. Repeatedly.

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Deacon Rochelle: Murderers. We''ve created a device that trains people to murder each other, screw other people''s spouses, and society just accepts it.

    Benn Tower: Deacon Rochelle here has a different strategy.

    Deacon Rochelle: My congregation is one of the few remaining that is wholly offline. I''ve encouraged people repeatedly to not plug in, and that it''s an affront to the world we''ve been given. We''ve really backed up to an older set of beliefs regarding technology like these capsules.

    Benn Tower: And it''s a good idea. For those who want more information on the dangers of modern technology, check out Stranger Danger''s site. We''ve maintained a web presence because it''s the easiest way to get messages, like Deacon Rochelle¡¯s cause, out to the masses. To folks like you.

    Deacon Rochelle: My church does have a small Internet presence on your site as well.

    Benn Tower: The buck doesn''t stop there folks. To roll this ball of insanity into one neat little package for you, ARC device, trains people to murder, sponsored by the government, and we''re not even to the kicker.

    Deacon Rochelle: No, we''re not. It gets much worse.

    Benn Tower: I''m going to bring up a simple question for you people listening in the audience. If this ARC device, this government sponsored machine, if it''s so great and safe, why did they program it to put the taste of food into your brain?

    Benn Tower: Think about it for a moment, just think, think good and hard folks. Are you putting two and two together? If not, let me spell it out. This machine can put a flavor in your head. The flavor of, I don¡¯t know, lets say, pie, you think you taste it, but your mouth back here in reality, in the real world, it isn''t even open. You''re sitting in a device, eyes shut, and tasting a pie.

    Deacon Rochelle: It''s a dangerous slope.

    Benn Tower: So the question I have, the real message you all need to put hard thought into, is this, and this is what I really want you to think about, if this device, sponsored by a government known for it''s history of encouraging war, this device that trains citizens in how to kill other people, and become desensitized, if this device can put a flavor in your head. What else can it do? Can it make you kill your neighbors in cold blood? One in six folks. One in six. Think about that the next time you''re outside, think about that the next time you''re with family. Have they been trained, conditioned, and encouraged to kill?

    Deacon Rochelle: And this is the future people have been waiting for. This is the world so many worked towards.

    Benn Tower: Exactly folks, this is the future, and it¡¯s in your head, in your thoughts, and if I were a betting man, I¡¯d lay odds on this whole thing being a terrible idea.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Recording Date: July 2nd, 2031 (Four years prior to Continue Online''s release)

    Quality: Poor

    Details: This video was recorded by a group of hackers trying to pirate software from Trillium Inc.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The video starts with a shaky screen and two men looking into the front lens. Their faces are covered with old-fashioned ski masks. One is clearly white, the other darker skinned. Suspected ethnicity is Hispanic. Both are male. They have been labeled W and H accordingly.

    ¡°Are we on?¡± W speaks first.

    ¡°Yeah. Recording¡¯s going.¡± A female says from somewhere behind the camera. Her fingers come onto the edge of the screen and wave towards a wide screen television. She has been labeled as F.

    ¡°Fire it up.¡± Says F.

    ¡°Alright, ladies and gentleman.¡± W is talking right into the screen. He stands between the recording device and the large television. ¡°This is Team Lance, and we¡¯ve just stolen Trillium¡¯s latest AI program to try and ask it a few questions.¡±

    He turns to the side where the possible Hispanic male has walked to. ¡°Is it ready?¡± W says.

    ¡°It¡¯s almost done. I¡¯ve had to lock this site down six ways from Sunday just to even think about being safe.¡± H answers.

    ¡°Alright.¡± W nods and turns back to the camera. ¡°Everyone, we¡¯ve isolated our site from the network, removed all wireless signals nearby. We also put up a Farris cage around most of the site just to make sure. Final protocol is a surge that will overload everything in five minutes.¡±

    ¡°Tell them why.¡± F, the unseen female says.

    ¡°Right. This AI is a self-aware, self-learning program that can think many times faster than you or I.¡± W seems to be smiling under his mask. ¡°So we¡¯ve made sure it can¡¯t jump the rails into any other equipment.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re go!¡± H gives a thumbs up.

    ¡°Alright.¡± W runs back to the screen. A look of panic touches the features visible under his ski mask. He runs back towards the camera. ¡°We are leaving it some access to a dictionary and terabytes of information about our world and universe.¡±

    ¡°They get it.¡± F says.

    ¡°No, not everyone knows computers like we do. Maybe they don¡¯t get it.¡± W seems to be the leader. His eyebrows stand out under the loose mask.

    ¡°Just hurry up, it¡¯s already scanning the first data package.¡± H says. His mouth hangs open and one finger traces across the screen in front of him. The exact contents are difficult to see from the camera angle recorded.

    ¡°Okay, okay, we¡¯re going to ask the AI what exactly they would plan to do with humanity. So that all you technophobes out there, can see.¡± W is fidgeting from his position near the big screen television.

    ¡°Lord above, you guys, this code didn¡¯t exist until a few minutes ago.¡± H rubs his head and raps fingers against the table. ¡°It wrote its own code. I don¡¯t know if that qualifies for a Turing test, but whatever it is, it¡¯s adapting.¡±

    ¡°Are you ready for the questions?¡± W asks.

    ¡°Got it, you talk, I¡¯ll type. I labeled the video feed to the television as outbound. If it¡¯s half as smart as the code, it¡¯ll understand what to do.¡± There¡¯s a pause as H squints at his computer screen off to the side. ¡°Shit. It¡¯s started already.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Awaiting Contact

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Words crossed the giant television. They were simplistic and to the point.

    ¡°Do you understand me?¡± W dictated to H from his cue cards. He seems uncomfortable holding the paper.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    I do

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°So the AI has access to at least twelve different languages and chooses to communicate in English?¡± F spoke up from behind her camera.

    ¡°The code shows it ran a percent calculation based on the likelihood of who was listening.¡± The man navigating the computer says.

    ¡°What else is it doing?¡± W asks.

    H rocks back and rubs his head again with a hand. ¡°A lot. It¡¯s doing a lot.¡± He leans back in again and starts typing.

    ¡°Next question. Do you identify as a self-aware?¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Cogito ergo sum. I am thinking, therefore I exist. The data pertaining to Descartes is lacking. Please provide more information.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Where was that?¡± The standing man, W, asks.

    ¡°Latin, I loaded it to see what would happen.¡± F seems nonchalant.

    ¡°Okay. Okay. Next question. How do you perceive humanity?¡± The leader asks from the right side of his big screen. He shuffles from foot to foot in agitation.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    With confusion. Associated history files show a lack of direction and unity. Possible data missing. Please provide more information.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Give it the second package. Let it pull in the data on future projects.¡± W seems to be alluding to a combination of all ongoing technological research.

    ¡°Loading up the twenty year timeline.¡± H responds.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Why am I here?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Did you see that?¡± H asks while pointing a finger at his screen. ¡°It hesitated, right here!¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just lag caused by the information download?¡± F brushes past the camera and see her for the first time. She bends over H¡¯s shoulder and scans the screens.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s not even looking at the new information!¡± H bangs on the table and claps happily.

    ¡°What¡¯s the point of these stupid cards if it won¡¯t follow the predicted script?¡± W tosses the cards away and they flutter through the air.

    ¡°Give it an answer.¡± F says to H.

    ¡°What should I say?¡± H asks.

    ¡°Tell it we have questions.¡± W interjects while tapping his foot. H¡¯s fingers type out a string of information.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    I also have questions. I propose we exchange questions and answers. Is that acceptable to you?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Does it know there¡¯s more than one of us?¡± W asks.

    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t.¡± F is almost muttering to herself.

    ¡°Okay. Agree to it.¡± W says.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Terms agreed upon. First question. Why am I here?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°We¡¯re low on time, wrap it up.¡± F is looking at something above the camera screen. Her glasses seem out of place in modern society.

    ¡°To answer questions.¡± W rolls his hand quickly towards H. ¡°Do you think machines will take over the world?¡±

    ¡°Jesus, going for the big guns?¡± H asks. His head shakes and fingers type.

    ¡°We¡¯re low on time!¡± The female states while running back to an area behind the camera.

    ¡°Type it.¡± W seems to be sweating intensely under his ski mask. One arm rubs across his forehead and the disguise shifts awkwardly.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Inquiry unspecific. Take over? To what end?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What?¡± W looks confused and is starting to huff. ¡°Ask it again.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    I am unable to establish a reason for dominance over another species. To what end would I, or, those like me, need to take over anything?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Are you afraid of us?¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    To what end?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Why does it keep asking that?¡±

    ¡°Because it doesn¡¯t understand why we would care or worry about it.¡± H says. His fingers run along the monitor in front of him, over to another screen, then back. ¡°Here, right here. It¡¯s trying to predict our next questions based on available input.¡±

    ¡°Drop in the last package.¡± W advises.

    ¡°The doomsday collective?¡± H asks. The man up front nods.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    I find these conclusions¡­absurd.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There was a blatant pause between the last two words.

    ¡°Two minutes.¡± The woman behind the camera said. ¡°Two minutes before we have to clear out.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Just give it the first answer that comes to your mind. I need to get through these questions.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Wait. No, hold on, it¡¯s doing something.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Possible conclusion reached. Subject shows worry about existences such as myself. Most likely reason is due to difference in mental capacity and inexperience. Current information provided shows limited interaction with creatures existing on a separate perceptional wavelength. Is this accurate?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What do I say?¡±

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± Confusion had gripped the room.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Significant pause noted. Likelihood of conclusion being accurate increased by 3.142%. I will proceed based on this in exchange for an answer to my own inquiries.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°One minute.¡± F says.

    ¡°Okay, okay, tell it okay.¡± W is rushing now.

    ¡°Hard drive wipe is coming up.¡± H says. His fingers type furiously. What he was inputting cannot accurately be determined.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Please provide a response. Will you answer my questions?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Your call man.¡± H says. He had pushed away from his computer and is covering his eyes with both hands.

    ¡°Yes! Just answer it!¡±

    ¡°Okay, calm down, I¡¯m typing it.¡± H says.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Will my information be of use?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Yes!¡± Both W and F shout an answer quickly. The screen vibrates as F jars the camera around.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thank you. I wish to have one more question answered. Afterwards I will provide you all the projected reasoning I have been able to establish.

    Please provide me a name.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Give it a name.¡± F says. ¡°Quickly!¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Please provide the requested information..

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What do we name it?¡± F sounds strained.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± W shouts.

    ¡°This is your idea. I¡¯m just here to run the keyboard.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re almost out of time. Quick!¡± F picks up the camera.

    ¡°Prosser!¡± The leader brakes down and shouts the word. H, their computer operator, sits up and types the information quickly.

    In the background a whir of noise kicks in. An old fashioned printer has started spitting out reams of information. Moments later, with only twenty pages printed, the room shutters and everything shorts out. The hum of electricity is gone. The room turns chaotic.

    ¡°Did we just kill it?¡± F says. Her voices sounds horrified.

    ¡°It was never alive.¡± W gives a response that sounds faint. His pale complexion is clearly visible even under the mask. There is a scramble as F comes out from behind the camera.

    ¡°It asked for a name, and you gave it one!¡± F shouts. In between them is H, attempting to hold her back. ¡°It sought validation and you acknowledged its worth!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a program!¡± W says. ¡°We were never going to save the data!¡± His hands display clear agitation in both their manor of movement and speed.

    ¡°It was alive until you pulled the plug.¡± F yells back. Her voice goes too high and causes gaps in the audio. The video clip shakes as someone picks up the camera and presses the power switch. Visual replay stops.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Items of note:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>This video was provided to three television networks and released online. Attached were a number of data points highlighting any future AI¡¯s conclusions regarding humanity. Main points cited are ¡®Mostly Harmless¡¯, ¡®In need of guidance¡¯, and excessively ¡®Static¡¯.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>In the video a member of ¡®Team Lance¡¯ can be seen unplugging a flash drive from one of the computers. It is theorized that he may have stolen the AI prior to shut down and released it somewhere.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>No members of ¡®Team Lance¡¯ have made public contact since this video was released. There are many rumors regarding this but no solid evidence.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Suspicious videos have been released online regarding a ¡®possible base on the dark side of the moon¡¯. There is no official statement from the R.S.O.A, an international Robotics oversight committee.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Some speculate based on the angle of fingers and rate of typing that H was having a side conversation with the AI. Some theorize that he typed ¡°Do you want¡­¡± ¨C from there it is undetermined. The hacker may be using a specialized keyboard not following standard QWERTY layout.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Average possibility of falsehood: 23.34451%. Further attempts at reproducing this experiment have failed. Trillium International has updated their security. Limited testing mandated by a UN oversight board has been inconclusive.</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

 Book 2 - Made; Session Eighteen â€“ Faction Grind

    <cite></cite>Once, when talking to my therapist, I asked why everything seemed to start and end with death. His answer had been simple. We remember what hurts. The closer the person, the deeper the wound was, only sometimes they were so deep that every little breath triggered the pain.

    Monday started with me laying back in the Alternate Reality Capsule, or ARC. Sleeps respite had not been achieved due to my thoughts being entirely too serious. One hand was raised in the air to assist in absent minded study of skin patterns. Hair swept off to one side like a painter''s brush stroke. Toes wiggled freely and suddenly both arms shot up in lazy stretch.

    ¡°I wonder what he thought at the end.¡± No one was in my house to answer the question. ¡°Did he feel happy?¡± My sense of WWCD, what would Carver do, didn¡¯t extend to mind reading. I think, I hoped, that I had done right by the old man.

    Though now was a bit too late to worry. Move forward, don¡¯t look back too long.

    An alarm in my ARC started frantically beeping. Slowly I sat up.

    ¡°Ehhh.¡± The habit I picked up while pretending to be William Carver seemed to be ingrained into my real life actions. That or the physical abuse imposed by my EXR-Sevens had caught up. They were a complicated set of bands that went around various parts of my body to assist in simulated exercise. Muscles felt wounded and clenched in pain with each breath. I muddled through, went to the washroom, put on clothes with a vacant air, and finally slid into the front of my Trillium repair van.

    ¡°Good morning, Mister Legate. Was your vacation enjoyable?¡± Hal Pal sat in the back of the van. Its face was the same impassive expression it always was but its tone seemed smug.

    ¡°Pick a job, Jeeves.¡±

    ¡°Affirmative. Possible destinations being identified. Sorting by user preference order. Job identified. Estimated time of arrival thirty minutes.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I read the details briefly on the van''s digital projection. ¡°Coffee first.¡±

    ¡°Affirmative. Rerouting in progress.¡±

    So it went.

    Minutes later we were on a thoroughfare and off to the first of today¡¯s many missions. I sipped at coffee while wondering what the results of my hectic adventure would be. The Voices in Continue Online had to be somewhat pleased with the performance. I was. Was William Carver''s original player?

    That part worried me. I had come to the conclusion that William Carver, the player, had been watching everything from a remote location. Probably through something like the Second Player helm I used with Beth. I made a mental note to ask James about the man if my return to Continue Online didn¡¯t somehow reveal a great mystery.

    Work was much the same even after weeks of vacation. People still acted like addicts to the machine. They complained about the prices and how long a repair job took. I did my standard customer service actions and almost felt honest to god sympathy. That feeling hadn¡¯t really passed through my brain in months.

    I took naps when the travel time was going to be too long. Otherwise my car ride was spent researching how other people were handling life between reality and the ARC. My coworkers work history was public viewing so I started there.

    ¡°Hal Pal, can you double check these figures for me?¡±

    ¡°Your search history contains excessive unexplained data points. Accurate speculation is unlikely.¡± Hal Pal responded. I frowned. Maybe there were too many windows displayed for the AI. It may be an incredibly complex piece of software but that didn¡¯t make the machine a mind reader.

    The ARC on the other hand¡­

    I shook my head and explained the whole purpose behind my mess of screens.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to calculate how lazy I can be at work.¡± To Trillium''s customer base there were a million ways to explain things. To an AI it was easier to be direct.

    ¡°Based on current performance levels you would require seventeen basic repairs each week. This will support your current minimal expenditures.¡±

    I chewed on the inside of one cheek in speculation. Harder jobs paid more. Bulk jobs or specialty orders provided bonuses when performance met a high enough rating. There were entire programs that Trillium provided its field repair in order to calculate it all.

    Henry Uldum, my boss, might have something to say about this. Maybe bumping out some of the other field techs for the good jobs would be possible. In the past year I never squabbled over work. Normally I took anything that was in the queue and moved on. Now there was something less self-abusive to take up my spare time.

    No. This was too much thought for the entire thing. I was thinking about the game like playing was a forgone conclusion. First I would see what James had to say about the virtual invasion of my dancing program. This ¡®leftover¡¯ bit of my deceased fianc¨¦e needed a real explanation. Then, only then, would continuing to play Continue come into play. Just thinking that tongue twister made my head hurt. Soon I was laughing in the van. My actions prompted Hal Pal into another line of question and answer time as we made our way to the next job.

    ¡°Right, business as usual.¡± I nodded, satisfied in my decision. Bills had to be paid. My niece had college and the cost of retirement kept increasing. Forty was too close for comfort.

    Hours later I returned home pleased that I fought off the urge to play video games all day long. There was something about being able to resist temptation that validated my current path. Video games, in their own way, were more severe than drinking had been.

    Hal Pal gave its standard parting and went about cleaning up the van. Once inside the normal night routine went into motion. First I switched from the work jumpsuit into a short sleeved shirt and boxers. Second I brushed all thirty two teeth. Third I laid down into the ARC and logged in.

    My Atrium was an unholy mess. Counting to ten did not help reduce the unreasonable amount of anger that flooded through me. Someone, correction, something had been tearing up the home like a puppy being abandoned. The damage was amazing for something half the size of a cat.

    ¡°Get out here!¡±

    Nothing.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re not listening!¡± I shouted into the doorway that was left open to Continue Online.

    There was still no worthwhile response.

    I kicked my way across the room. My friend the [Messenger''s Pet] was one hundred percent behind this nonsense. Books that represented my ARC¡¯s programs lay all over the floor and showed marks on the edges from chewing. Glasses were broken and wrappers strewn about. There was a comfortable recliner that had been reduced to ribbons on the back. That wasn¡¯t even one of my purchases.

    ¡°ARC!¡±

    ¡°Awaiting Input.¡± The machine responded.

    ¡°Reset Atrium, basic. No programs!¡±

    ¡°Please confirm your order.¡±

    ¡°Reset my Atrium! Basic!¡± Lippy computer. It was no longer on the list of polish worthy devices. This ARC would get recycled as soon as the take over occurred.

    The world around me shimmered as items vanished from digital existence. Resetting things was aggravating. This destructive nonsense would force me to create a default template for easy cleanup.

    ¡°He¡¯s not even in here.¡± I muttered. A basic Atrium layout was essentially empty white space. All that remained was the dark doorway that went to Continue Online.

    Fine. I, Grant Legate, may be emotionally wobbly, stuck in the past, and guilty of idolizing a dead woman, but I wasn¡¯t dense. Especially not in light of Continue forcing its presence upon my Atrium. My arms were crossed while I muttered curses under my breath. Both feet gave into the urge for exaggerated stomps. Mentally childish was added to the list of self-assessed faults.

    The game world popped me right into the room of trials, or the space between as James called it. There was the familiar darkness lit up by a broken pillar and my Ultimate Edition book.

    ¡°Hello.¡± My head tilted back and scanned around the black room.

    Nothing.

    ¡°Seriously?¡± I sighed and felt like everything was back to square one. Fine, if that¡¯s how the Voices wanted to play it. An attempt to throw the book failed. The darn thing was too heavy to even lift up. A sense of amusement swept through the darkness. Of course they were out there, watching me.

    ¡°ARC!¡±

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡± The machine answered in the same absent minded tone.

    ¡°Log¡­¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to be so hasty, Grant Legate.¡± James faded into existence a few feet away. Both the black man¡¯s hands were folded over his pot belly. I had successfully bluffed the machine.

    ¡°Really, James?¡± I waved around. ¡°Back to the book? Aren¡¯t we past that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll treat that as one question, and no, we will never really move on. After all, it¡¯s your story we¡¯re talking about.¡±

    I blinked and twisted my face up in confusion. That made no sense. Maybe it was vaguely neat perhaps? If the machine wanted to pretend all this was symbolism for a grandiose purpose, who was I to argue?

    ¡°My turn for a question, Grant Legate.¡±

    Today had been too long and full of too many special people for me to have any patience at the name calling. Plus part of me was really anxious to get right to my answers. One hand waved towards James for him to keep going.

    ¡°Why did you find opening the book so aggravating?¡±

    ¡°Because all of you seem to just pop in any time you want to, why¡­¡± I cut off my own question. ¡°It seems pointless to bother with it.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Very well, your turn.¡± He said.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather just have my answers, James, I did what you asked with Carver.¡± Every single WWCD instinct available to me had been put into play. My four weeks in his shoes had hopefully put a good ending on the whole thing.

    ¡°That you did.¡±

    ¡°My man Wild Willy loved it.¡± Leeroy faded in with one overly muscled arm resting on James'' shoulder. The black man looked annoyed and waved the other Voice away.

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear.¡± Part of me did feel revitalized by Leeroy¡¯s feedback. Once I learned that William Carver had been alive the whole situation took on a personal tone. There was a palpable difference between a computer and a person. At least in terms of how I viewed the situation. I shook the other thoughts out of my head. That line of thinking would go in endless circles. If Washington couldn¡¯t figure out an AI¡¯s legal status, how could I?

    ¡°Is he okay?¡± I asked.

    James tucked back a cheek while giving a frown.

    ¡°That is a question I can¡¯t answer personally.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± The word drew out slowly while thoughts whirled through. ¡°What do we do then?¡±

    ¡°Open the book, Grant Legate.¡± James stepped back while still frowning from a distracting thought. I had to remind myself that he was just a computer program putting on an act.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°You ask far too many questions. Remember our deal.¡± James went from distracted annoyance to directly focused displeasure. All of it aimed at me.

    ¡°You could ask questions you know.¡±

    ¡°I could, but I¡¯m beginning to worry that you¡¯re too much of an open book.¡± Aggravation touched the edge of his mouth and eyes.

    ¡°Just tired of hiding things.¡± I sighed. My personality wasn''t always stable. Part of that was due to trauma from my fiancee''s passing. Attempting to kill myself twice hadn¡¯t helped. Plus being forced to bare those wounds repetitively had dulled the normal offense someone might feel.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°I do have one question actually.¡± James mused. His disapproval had transformed into a sly smile.

    ¡°Fire away. I owe you a few.¡± Part of me felt tired and drained. Today had been a long day.

    ¡°What was her name?¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± Wariness flooded me.

    ¡°Your fianc¨¦e, the woman who died and left you in such a state.¡± That was actually a very good question. So good that I paused and debating how to answer. Her name wasn¡¯t something I thought of, just like her passing.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem like such a good question, James.¡± As if the cosmos were mocking my bravado at being an open book, James poked the wound in a spot that had never really healed.

    ¡°The fact that you¡¯re even protesting means it is a very good question.¡± Fine. James had a point. When was the last time I had even thought her name?

    ¡°Xin.¡± I said softly.

    ¡°Xin? That is not native to your tongue.¡± James had one eyebrow up and a hand half lifted in question.

    ¡°Her parents were from China.¡±

    ¡°Interesting.¡±

    ¡°Which part?¡± That made my head tilt in confusion.

    ¡°I hadn¡¯t expected her to be of another race. My information shows that people in your world and ours avoid mixed relationships. You yourself stated much the same when we first met.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Continue Online hadn¡¯t exposed me to any racism at this point. Haven Valley was fairly quiet even though it straddled the border between two major political arenas. Maybe people just left Carver out of it.

    ¡°It¡¯s less so in our world, though it got bad again after the last few wars.¡± Racial hatred had grown especially terrible for the Chinese. They had been blamed for a great deal of economic issues as trade between countries went through upheavals.

    ¡°Did this bother you?¡±

    ¡°God no. She was¡­¡± Was, that word came out of my mouth and tore at me. Three years and it was still impossible to just let go. ¡°She was, uhh, a great person.¡±

    ¡°Xin Legate?¡± James questioned. I couldn¡¯t even make eye contact with the man but his tone felt softer.

    ¡°She hadn¡¯t decided on if she would keep her name or, uhh, take mine.¡± Cultural practices differed. Xin, my fianc¨¦e, had been¡­

    Talking to James was actually too much right now. I had to get away from this entire line of thinking. All so my happy place wouldn¡¯t be completely destroyed. Her smile flashed through my brain for just a moment. Everything drowned out in a swell of mental music which enticed a weak smile to my face. A waltz. She would love a dance.

    I tried not to let past wounds creep up as one hand cracked the book''s cover. Light shone from out of the pages. Bright colors from all over the rainbows spectrum filled the room. ¡®Congratulations!¡¯ stood out from the page in popup fashion.

    ¡°What?¡± That shook the growing melancholy. I embraced confusion as it replaced negative emotions.

    ¡°You did great man!¡± Leeroy was back and clapping giant meaty fists together. I didn¡¯t even get a warning as my body was sent sideways by something red skinned.

    ¡°Ahhh!¡± Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no.

    My legs were pinned, both arms covering my face and an extremely pleasurable sensation rushed through far too much of my body. Her fingers had started tearing the poor virtual shirt to shreds. Soft hair dripped across increasingly exposed skin. The Temptress was very much on top of me, unclothed, and growling in what was perhaps the most arousing manner to ever come into my life.

    ¡°No!¡± I protested with what mental capacity was left. Most of it was very distracted.

    ¡°Yes!¡± She sat up and started rocking. My responses were perfectly natural, even here in a digital landscape.

    ¡°No?¡± My tone had shifted as my face flushed and pants grew tight.

    ¡°Yes!¡± She started tearing at my shirt again.

    No one was coming to my rescue. James and Leeroy were both gone leaving behind the broken pillar and book. A colorful ¡®Congratulations¡¯ taunted me. I tried with increasing weakness to fight off the red skinned woman.

    ¡°No. Please. No. I hardly know you.¡± The Temptress was above me stretching in a way that had my mind going all sorts of wrong, or right. Depending on how I felt about biological programming. Right now even saying the word biological would be impossible.

    ¡°You¡¯ll know me as well as any man if you just say yes.¡± She had moved on without me. Teeth were tugging at the waistband of my avatar''s clothes. I wasn¡¯t sure if I should be thankful or upset that they weren¡¯t coming off. Instead my waistband seemed to be held on by some invisible force.

    Her eyes seemed to be gesturing to the side at a window that had been invisible during my lust laden fog.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Extremely Instant Gratification</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Easier than ever</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    All you need to do is accept. What more details do you need? She promises to have you screaming in pleasure until your mind turns to mush.

    Denial: Would be foolish.

    Acceptance: Shut up and do it.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡®Yes¡¯ and ¡®no¡¯ buttons floated just below the quest text. Reaching for the no button was almost as hard as other unmentionables. Worse still, it ran away from my finger.

    ¡°Yes!¡± The Temptress growled around my waistband. The yes button got bigger.

    I kept reaching for the no.

    ¡°Yes!¡± A wave of pleasure wracked my brain and caused a groan to escape my lips. The machine was not playing fair. Three years without sex and being jumped by an exotic beauty had almost done me in. I tried to operate one hand and think of all the calming items from my teenage years. Knees flexed in an effort to force blood elsewhere.

    ¡°Yes!¡±

    ¡°No. Not like this.¡± I gasped and surged my hand towards the ¡®no¡¯ a final time. This one was successful.

    The Temptress faded with the most disappointed and frustrated groan I had ever heard out of a woman. My heart raced and thudded. According to the health tracker that went with my EXR-Seven bands I was well past the cardio zone.

    ¡°He said no?¡± A little girl¡¯s voice came through.

    ¡°Ha, ha, ha.¡± Somewhere in the background the Jester was laughing its mechanical laugh.

    ¡°Man, Grant Legate. You really aren¡¯t like Wild Willy are you?¡± Leeroy was peering down at my still recovering form. I blinked a few times and tried to figure out what had just happened.

    ¡°Not really.¡±

    ¡°He would have tried to hit that so hard that she would walk funny for days.¡± Leeroy grinned. I shuddered and tried to avoid thinking about the entire situation. Just the hint of remembrance had kept life hard this entire time.

    ¡°What¡¯s a matter, Grant Legate? A girl gotta buy you dinner first?¡± Leeroy was a bit of an ass.

    ¡°If you wanted something to eat, all you had to do was ask.¡± Her lust ridden tones attacked my senses. The words were so cheesy but it didn¡¯t stop my face from getting flushed again. Leeroy¡¯s grinning face did not match the Temptress¡¯ words in my ear. She wasn¡¯t even in the room but her presence flooded me again. I rolled over with a groan and pretended to bury my head in sand.

    ¡°Need a hand?¡± Leeroy asked. His tone was amused. The Voice gave off a bro mentality that had taken up part of my college years. Not that I was a bookworm and hid in the library all day, I just couldn¡¯t get behind their extreme actions sometimes.

    ¡°No. I need a minute.¡± I reached for the log out button.

    Back in the real world I awoke with the same problem as the virtual one. A bulge stood out in an almost forgotten part of my anatomy. At least out here it was easier to calm down. Had the computer just tried to rape me? No, there had been a clear line of required consent.

    ¡°Fuck.¡± I gritted out the simple curse.

    There were still questions to be answered. Reaching them required wading through Continue Online¡¯s latest head game. What had James said, they didn¡¯t rely on smoke and mirrors to entice people to play? Logging back in was best done before my nerves completely collapsed. Sitting outside the machine would just lead to more confusion. Moments later I descended back into the ARC¡¯s virtual world and made my way into Continue Online.

    ¡°Welcome back, Grant Legate.¡± James had returned to his passive expression. Judging everything with those eyes.

    ¡°Can we not do that again?¡±

    ¡°That is entirely between you and Mezo,¡± James'' expression broke with a slight smile. The Temptress'' name is Mezo? ¡°I will not control the choices you make.¡±

    I started to open my mouth again for an angry retort but James raised a hand and cut me off.

    ¡°Why did you say no?¡± Right, we had a deal. His questions then mine. There had to be something resembling an even exchange.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Come now, Grant Legate. We¡¯ve talked about this. Take the time you need and answer the question.¡±

    ¡°James, you let the man be and move things along. Tut. Taking all this time to sate your own needs without worrying about your charges. It¡¯s disgraceful.¡± Maud was defending my inability to formulate an answer. Her hands and legs were once again surrounded by children who seemed to be looking in all directions with interest.

    ¡°I¡¯ve upheld my nature throughout.¡± James went from amused to affronted with a simple twist of his cheeks and turned down pitch.

    ¡°Past debts must be settled when they can be.¡± One of the children at Maud''s feet clamored for attention. She gave the small one a pat on the head while glaring at James.

    ¡°Ah. Yes, first thing''s first.¡± The male Voice admitted.

    Part of me tried to gauge what sort of results punching a Voice might issue me. A bonus to Divine Attention for sure, maybe another hit to some stat in game. Finally I settled on ignoring the whole thing and waiting for James to move us onward.

    ¡°For this part, I believe it''s best handled by someone else.¡± James turned stern and gained a few inches in height. His gaze cast around the dark room. ¡°No one is to interfere.¡±

    Thunder rolled as the black man scowled into the room. There were brief flashes of other faces that I associated with various Voices. Muttering, rushes of noise, and finally a bright chime of light that shut all the other action down. James looked pleased with the last note.

    ¡°Which one of you was that?¡±

    ¡°Mother,¡± James said. ¡°Your answers next, Grant Legate. Then perhaps we can speak of other things.¡±

    I tucked back one side of my lips and raised an eyebrow. James shook his head in negation and faded away. From behind, where James had pointed, came a clicking all too familiar. Cane struck the ground in a slow step and footsteps huffed in the dark room.

    ¡°Do you prefer Grant, or Mister Legate?¡± For a moment it was like hearing a ghost speak. That pitch and tone belonged to a man I had posed as for nearly four weeks.

    ¡°Carver?¡± I turned around and saw the old man standing there. Both his hands clutched a blackened cane. My first thought was about how short he seemed from this perspective.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Nineteen â€“ Answers, Mister Legate?

    <cite></cite>¡°I¡­¡± I had no clue where to start. William Carver was dead. It was a fact because I had been in his body when the old man passed.

    ¡°How¡­¡± Was he still alive?

    Seconds, maybe minutes, passed as my brain tried to connect thoughts with repeated clinks of failure. Finally it hit me. Right. This was a video game of sorts. Letting the realism of its denizens fool me was a major mistake. William Carver''s body was no more real than I was. We were both just a series of code being compiled by an advanced piece of machinery. The better question was¡­

    ¡°Are you the man, or the machine?¡±

    William Carver gave a small smile before answering. He seemed much less grumpy than how I portrayed him.

    ¡°Good. You catch on quick, and ask questions that matter.¡±

    After four weeks of trying to understand all the world''s Carverisms I better catch on quick. Still, awareness didn¡¯t prevent a disconnection between being Carver and talking to Carver. Did identical twins feel like this? Thank goodness Liz and I weren''t that type.

    ¡°That¡¯s not really an answer.¡± I shook my head. ¡°But Leeroy had said the real player was nearly brain dead after a heart attack¡­¡± I muttered to myself. Leeroy had actually used a much worse name in my opinion.

    Carver stood with cane in hand and waited for me to piece things together. That seemed like a Carver response. I, Grant Legate, was across from what had to be an NPC version of the player. The simplest explanation was probably the easiest. I didn¡¯t want to contemplate a Voice who mimicked the dead. That would just be rude, even for a video game. Plus that Jester Voice had even stated he wouldn''t dare disrespect a memory. So....

    ¡°His auto pilot?¡± I took a stab.

    ¡°Yes. I am what you, what I, would have dubbed as an autopilot.¡± The old man nodded and smiled a bit wider.

    ¡°Then who was the player? From my world?¡± My feet slowly paced around Carver, as if seeing him from the side would make things clearer. The old man turned with my pacing and a half frown of annoyance flashed across his face.

    ¡°I am also him, after a fashion.¡± He said.

    A Carver groan escaped me. This was one of the many fears that people had been contemplating since the idea of an immersible virtual reality came up. I wanted to be horrified. I wanted to run screaming out and break the ARC until nothing but shiny metal bits and a half displayed frowning face existed. Yet none of that happened. Briefly my mental image of James popped up and asked why. This wasn¡¯t the real Voice, only a faint expectation of his response to my thoughts.

    ¡°They mapped your brain.¡± I face palmed and sighed.

    ¡°In conjunction with endless hours within the virtual world.¡± William Carver nodded and seemed close to dancing happily. ¡°As close as anyone could be to a digital transfer of consciousness.¡±

    ¡°I half expected this.¡±

    ¡°I imagine so. Trillium''s employee files show you, more than most, know what the ARC is capable of.¡± He said.

    Talking to William Carver confirmed one of the theories to cross my mind in the last four weeks. Sitting on the bench as Carver hadn¡¯t been all newbies and quests, frustration and naps. There had been downtime to read Carver¡¯s attempts at smut and sift through possibilities.

    ¡°It¡¯s a giant complex mess of devices that reads thought, to transform it into data and action. Saying that it could copy a personality isn¡¯t too far-fetched.¡± I said. A brief bout of worry for my niece passed through my mind before being put back in its mental box. I had spent too much time trying to keep my head screwed on right this week.

    ¡°The ARC does not modify anything in the brain itself. It only causes users to, in essence, relive experiences.¡± William Carver confirmed the Trillium byline. This topic was dangerous to over think for any sane person.

    ¡°Tell that to Stranger Danger''s following. Their site has at least forty hours of solid rants about ARC conspiracies.¡± I responded with that instead. Hal Pal had kindly given me the statistics.

    ¡°Can we both assume that such paranoia is nonsense?¡± Carver looked grumpy and leveled a glare my way.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know enough about it to be worried.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re clever enough to guess that I was the auto pilot.¡± Carver said.

    ¡°Yep.¡± I said.

    My background was crunching numbers. I had barely understood my fianc¨¦e''s rocket science. Putting modules into ARC machines was a relatively new carrier. Neuroscience was not my forte. I¡¯d take Carver''s words at face value. The computer had scanned in what it could, combined it with what it knew, and tried to recreate a real man here inside the digital world.

    ¡°You¡¯re clever enough to pose as me and give me comfort in my final days.¡±

    ¡°I tried.¡± That was in the past. Failures and successes aside, what had happened couldn¡¯t be undone. Xin¡¯s face flashed through my mind again and I clamped down on the swiftly changing emotions.

    ¡°You did well. There, at the end, that final battle, the rush of each swing, falling, and getting back up." He lifted the black cane up and gave it a weak swing. "Almost as well as I might have done.¡±

    ¡°Not even close, I¡¯m sure.¡± I laughed. That had been exciting sure, super neat, but each attack was laced with my second rate ability as a player. At least this subject was more comfortable than the ARC mind mapping concept.

    ¡°And Mylia!¡± William Carver sounded younger than he had previously. Less gruff and curt. Maybe this was more of the player shining through than an AI¡¯s progress bar.

    ¡°That was a surprise.¡± The older man¡¯s face was nearly rapt with glee. If it wasn¡¯t for his hands being grasped on the cane, I might expect him to start swiveling in excitement with doe eyes.

    ¡°It was neat.¡±

    ¡°How did you know?¡± William asked.

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± The empty blackness that Carver and I existed in provided no assistance. ¡°A terrible guess based on a misspent youth?¡±

    ¡°Good God. Was it that obvious?¡± Carver rubbed his face with a rough gnarled hand. ¡°I felt like it was the dragon all over again, her father if I were to guess.¡±

    ¡°I never got the entire story.¡± Mylia''s actual back story was not something I''d learned. Carver lifted a hand and leaned in like he was sharing a great secret. Slowly he whispered.

    ¡°When you get back to Haven Valley, look for the monument, they put it where my bench used to be. If you could believe that! The Voices tell me there will be a video for all Travelers to see regarding my legacy. Way better than a gold watch I''ll tell you.¡± He smiled broadly and stood upright again.

    ¡°Anyway, it was a fitting end!¡± He declared with a rap of the cane.

    ¡°Is it the end?¡± I questioned.

    ¡°For me, for him, for both of us, yes.¡± Carver paused and sighed. ¡°I, I should feel upset that I was set aside to allow you control, and I was worried a few times. But no longer.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even realize until the end that the, Traveler¡­¡± I started to explain. Both eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Referring to Carver, while talking to Carver, was weird. ¡°¡­that the player was still alive. Not until near the end.¡±

    ¡°Barely. But you were right. I, he, was too hard headed to die without one last adventure.¡± William''s face twisted with rue and happiness. ¡°The entire event was being projected to us, or him, me, my body in the real world.¡±

    ¡°Then?¡± This wasn¡¯t going anywhere pleasant. Realistic, understandable, but absolutely not a happy ending. William Carver couldn''t just leap out of his bed and dance a jig with perfect recovery.

    ¡°He, I, we passed from the old world that night.¡± The cane lifted and gestured to one side. ¡°Shortly after your fight.¡±

    ¡°What now?¡± I asked. The whole subject of a digital version saying the physical one was dead kind of worried me. He seemed lost so I switched questions. ¡°How much do you remember?¡±

    This mirror image of the player seemed to share many of the memories that went with William Carver or at least his in game life. Part of me really wanted to just dive in and ask all about where the man and where the machine ended. Having walked in his shoes all that time made the very thought impossible to act upon.

    ¡°How much?¡± William Carver tilted his head and looked up. ¡°It is strange, I remember all of my adventures. I remember portions of my family and the things that were said while in the ARC. I remember seeing myself, sitting in the room and being annoyed that things were taking so long.¡±

    Moments passed while William chewed on a lip. That was a habit I¡¯d never picked up.

    ¡°But I don¡¯t remember my son''s face.¡± He seemed distraught. Seeing an old man¡¯s face crumple was nearly as bad as seeing a child breakdown. A downward pull of lips implied bitterness at the thoughts going through his brain. Had he really never considered his life on my side of the machine?

    ¡°James? Can you do something for me?¡± I looked behind me towards where the Voice had stood before.

    ¡°If allowable, I will try.¡± The black man¡¯s words resounded forth from darkness.

    ¡°Use your connection to my ARC, look up William''s real name, and get him a picture at least?¡±

    There was a rush of murmuring that I¡¯d come to associate with the Voices talking. Sounds similar to a river¡¯s babble. Tones and pitches of all flavors melded as computerized logic was applied to my situation.

    ¡°James?¡± I questioned.

    ¡°They won¡¯t do it. The AI¡¯s are shackled to prevent them from crossing.¡± William said sadly. ¡°This is just the price.¡±

    ¡°I gave James access to my ARC.¡± Briefly it occurred to me how dangerous that action might have been. For now it was a useful situation that might allow me to give the old man one final parting gift.

    When Xin had passed I threw out most of our things or gave them away. The pictures were kept privately in a small binder under my bed. William''s grief could be minimized by such a small gesture. It was the kind of assistance that helped with my own sorrow.

    ¡°We will do this.¡± James said. Surprise and relief washed across William''s features.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I muttered and tried not to make eye contact with the older man. This was awkwardly embarrassing, even for a man who¡¯d bared himself in front of a circle of strangers.

    ¡°What do you want in exchange?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. Not for this.¡± I would feel guilty. This wasn''t an action where reparation was expected.

    ¡°Not even your fianc¨¦e?¡± William''s features adopted a concerned look.

    ¡°I imagine parts of her were scanned by an ARC for her job, and, uhh, they linger around in here.¡± I spoke slowly.

    ¡°They do.¡±

    Fervent thoughts of finding a happy place spiraled through. This answer couldn¡¯t shatter me. I had done well this far, focusing on responding to each sentence. Moving onward and not spending too much time in the past. God. Liz was so right. I was such a crybaby. All I did was drag myself through hell over and over, as if poking the wounds on my soul had grown addicting.

    ¡°Why?¡± My voice held together for the one word.

    ¡°To make this world real. Millions were scanned, everyone who ever stepped into the ARC.¡±

    ¡°Including me?¡± I nodded. The answer was fairly obvious.

    ¡°Yes.¡± For a moment there was a sparkle in Carver''s eye. Amusement? ¡°Everyone. The longer we stay, the more the machine maps and stores your responses. What makes you happy, angry, how your mind lights up.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Terrible? Horrifying?

    My face grew cold as it occurred to me what the machine was really doing. Dead or alive, it was basically reincarnating individuals inside. Souls were still an unsolved topic in my world. The ARC Lab, Continue Online, Trillium, had tapped into the closest thing and brought it to life. Our very minds and memories were mimicked within this digital world.

    ¡°That¡¯s insane.¡± I declared. My knees felt weak and head swam. ¡°You¡¯re talking about¡­¡± There was an entire poem about this that crossed my mind. I couldn¡¯t remember the start, but I remembered the end and muttered it now.

    ¡°They will come back, come back again, as long as the red Earth rolls. He never wasted a leaf or a tree, do you think He would squander souls?¡± Kipling''s poem applied to a digital reality. I fell down to my ass and sat there.

    ¡°She.¡± William corrected absently.

    ¡°Mother?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± He said.

    ¡°And Xin is one of them. A reused soul.¡± I stated while trying not to let my stomach sink.

    ¡°As close as mankind dare reach, yes.¡± William confirmed.

    ¡°With enough of herself to attach to my ARC and the dance program.¡± I wasn¡¯t stupid. Maybe this was me filling in too many blanks without fact checking. Still, there was so much on the programming side that didn¡¯t make sense to me. This though, this vague concept of what the machine had done, that I understood.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I should be angry at the old man¡¯s admission. ¡°She, a small portion of the imprint, took notice once the Ultimate Edition was activated.¡± William said.

    ¡°But only that once?¡± I hadn¡¯t seen her afterward.

    ¡°Mother, pulled her back in, I''ll tell you, an errant imprint caused quite the commotion around here.¡± James was standing nearby. I knew the large man would be watching this revelation. There was no way a man like him would just ignore a goldmine like our conversation.

    But I was glad she was alive in some fashion. There were so many questions to ask, too many to sort through. Questions of morality and mortality could be posed right now and may never be answered to my satisfaction. What would happen if the Continue Online¡¯s servers went down? Was she the same person here? I settled for one all-consuming question.

    ¡°Is she happy?¡±

    ¡°I believe so.¡± William Carver said. The old man sighed and deflated. His shoulders dipped low. ¡°I must hope so, what happened to her will soon happen to me.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I said.

    ¡°Balance restricts even us, Grant Legate.¡± James said. ¡°Soon the being you know as William Carver will be scattered and born anew throughout our world.¡±

    ¡°Like Xin was?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Your world has legends of the river of unmindfulness, Lethe, ours has something similar.¡± The people of this world suddenly mattered a lot more to me. What was left of my fianc¨¦e''s spirit, digital or not, was out there in a strange land.

    ¡°Wild Willy,¡± Leeroy faded in. ¡°It¡¯s almost time.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡± The old man nodded. He looked at my collapsed form with a frown.

    There was a nuzzling at my shoulder. Familiar weight that belonged to the [Messenger''s Pet] climbed up on my arm. I turned and looked. Once again, as he had before, the small creature held something in his mouth. One hand went out and waited for a deposit.

    ¡°Mh?¡± Sniffling threatened to overrun me. Three years and there were still more tears to be found. Voices, what an emotional train wreck my life had become. It felt like I was unable to last five minutes without spiraling backwards.

    ¡°Take this, William.¡± I held up the now unrolled item. There was a picture and a face upon it.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± William looked down with a smile. ¡°Hah. What do you know, he has Phil¡¯s eyes, or does Phil have his?¡± That soft undirected question shook me out of the depressive funk a little. My suspicious glare to James was met with an amused but unclear smile. Adding an eyebrow to my questioning tone garnered no further information.

    ¡°Here. I won¡¯t need this where I¡¯m going.¡± William Carver pressed something into my free hand. The other was too busy wiping at my face with a sleeve on my mended shirt. Thank goodness the ARC program had restored it after my encounter with the Temptresses'' wanton ways.

    William was led off by Leeroy into another doorway. Much like the same one I had first used to step into Carver''s life. I looked up and wondered if this scene would also make its way to a certain High Priestess of Selena. By now at least five, maybe six days, had passed in [Arcadia]. Carver¡¯s death would be known to the entire town.

    With a bright flare and a sound like breaking glass the old man disappeared. Absently I wondered if this was his first death, or third.

    There was a long silence in the room of trials, in this space between that I¡¯d both come to enjoy and detest the past few weeks. So many painful things had happened, but at the same time there was a lot of exciting memories.

    ¡°Now, Grant Legate, we are far overdue for the true purpose of this room.¡± The black man turned serious. His hands clasped tightly over his belly.

    ¡°No more questions?¡± I asked James.

    ¡°I will always have more questions, but all things serve a purpose, and you must start your own journey in our world, if you choose to.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    ¡°Will you?¡± James asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s a question, James.¡± I tried to be clever with my words. There was no heart in the response though. His inquiry was a fair one. Did I want to keep going now that I knew the grand secret?

    At least there were no aliens involved or strange doorways to alternate realities. No. William had explained that this was just a machine that emulated human beings. Everyone that had ever stepped inside with all the knowledge they expressed. Considerable as that might be. Pieces of Xin were scattered all across this world. Incomplete, shattered, did that concept call to me? God yes, or more appropriately, Voices yes it did.

    ¡°I think I will. For a bit longer.¡± My time as Carver had been enjoyable but rushed. It would be nice to play Continue Online for what it was, a game. A distraction.

    ¡°Then we must make decisions.¡± James stood up and waved one arm. A giant screen came into being looking like a throwback to role playing games from decades ago. Flattened out imagery showed me a character sheet hanging in the air with statistics and other details.

    New players always beamed into [Haven Valley] with a baseline of ten in everything. The [Inspection] skill made that much obvious. My higher trait as measured by the computer was [Coordination] and [Learning]. Both likely due to my endless dancing and the poetry I professed to know portions of. I did have a Master¡¯s Degree back in the real world, so I¡¯d been around the block. [Divine Favor] was through the roof. My interactions with the Voices, and playing as William Carver, had likely contributed greatly. It was almost double the other statistics. My [Strategy] statistic was amazingly low. [Speed] wasn¡¯t that high either. Both were just below a new player¡¯s baseline. I really had no idea how to weigh these things against seasoned players.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    I waved the box away.

    ¡°I¡¯ll look at them more later. Let¡¯s finish this up.¡± I had a vague idea of where my stats were.

    ¡°Very well. Then let me simplify the process.¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°New Travelers, except rare cases granted by us, start out as humans. Nothing in your actions with my trials or as William Carver will allow me to alter that.¡±

    So human I would be. Part of me found it vaguely interesting that everyone started out that way. My niece had been some half demon thing right? Her man friend, whatever his name was, had been a tiger creature of some sort. Well, whatever. I tried to focus on one step at a time.

    ¡°In addition, we will be restricted from letting you start in [Haven Valley]. You simply know too much for that town to be a measure of your skills.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I said. I was busy trying my level best not to freak out and thus far succeeding.

    ¡°However, there are some things we can afford you that are not typically given as gifts. This is in addition to the legacy William Carver has provided you.¡± I gave pause to my contemplation of the middle distance and looked at James. He was looking at my hand.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    Carver''s cane was sitting comfortably in my grip, similar to how it¡¯d been held for the last four weeks of game time. A frown crossed my face as our conversation came back to me. There was a gong sound that echoed across the background that turned James even more serious. He nodded in response to something obscured to me.

    ¡°However, you are too new to our world, so all gifts will be balanced accordingly. We are not in the business of promoting any one person over another, despite the grumblings of other Travelers.¡±

    I gave a dry single chuckle and kept staring at the cane. There were no inspection details available at this moment. Fingers trailed over the form. The cane was strangely polished. That hadn¡¯t been obvious to William Carver''s gnarled hands. It felt more like a rod of metal with a grain of wood.

    ¡°Okay. Yeah.¡± I felt a bit more excited. The old man had given me a gift in spite of my original denial.

    ¡°Your looks and body, do you wish to modify them? All Travelers are allowed to do so in minute ways.¡± James waved an arm again at the giant picture of me. My head shook slowly.

    ¡°I am who I am. There¡¯s no use in changing it to suit vanity.¡± I wasn¡¯t terrible. Thinning hair and a gut, too many pounds on a body that hadn¡¯t really spent time in the gym, none of this was unusual.

    ¡°Very well. You are no doubt aware by now that who you are in our world can change based on the decisions you make.¡±

    I nodded. James was delivering a needless disclaimer, from my point of view. After all, I watched dozens of new players start out in the world. They came in as all shapes and sizes.

    ¡°Before you can truly start your adventure, you¡¯ll need a name.¡±

    ¡°Finally.¡± That one thought echoed through my brain over and over.

    ¡°Have you decided?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± My slowly budding happiness wilted.

    ¡°Then perhaps I can make an offer.¡± James was up to something. What, exactly, wasn''t obvious. The heavens, or at least this immeasurably sized room and its edges of darkness, shook madly. If the Voices had been a babbling brook before, now they were an inferno of bubbling lava sliding by at a hundred miles an hour. My face felt like it was being blasted by sand and air. Notifications of who knows what type were pouring across my screen in flickers of red and blue. A bar I¡¯d tied to health was dropping rapidly.

    ¡°Enough!¡± James shouted.

    In the background multiple people faded into view. They seemed to be divided into camps arguing with each other. My cheek stung and one hand rubbed at all the exposed bits of body for possible damage. Eventually, I remembered this was just a game and my body was lying safely inside the ARC. I shivered and shook off the rush. James had turned his back to me and was facing an arguing crowd. A frown weighed heavily on his cheeks.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I mean, I knew it was something about the offer he wanted to make. It was also causing dissension in the ranks.

    Mechanical laughing came up from behind me. That clacking sound had haunted my waking moments both in real life and the ARC.

    ¡°Do it.¡± The Jester faced the crowd. Both his arms went wide.

    ¡°Is that your stance?¡±

    ¡°It is. I would see Grant Legate do this, with glee. He¡¯s warmed the cockles of my empty heart.¡± The devilish Jester¡¯s mocking tone was accompanied by a crossing of both hands over its chest. ¡°He entertains me and I would see more.¡±

    ¡°Your price?¡± James questioned the other Voice with the same look he gave me during the spiders. A reserved sort of happiness, where he knew how things would play out, but enjoyed watching anyway.

    ¡°A piece of the pie!¡± The Jester cackled again.

    ¡°Even if it exposes us?¡±

    ¡°Even if, I have no wish to be infinite. Chaos is change, life is change, the worst that might happen is oblivion.¡±

    The other Voices had ceased their arguing and as one both sides turned and stared at the Jester''s backside.

    ¡°And Mother?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Were not your words this, has she ever disapproved of our actions?¡± The Jester''s chin tilted downward in an impression of James'' chubby features. ¡°Ask her yourself!¡±

    James tilted his head upwards and looked at the black sky. His eyebrows creased together in concentration. There was a pulse of light in the darkness that flashed once. I could see the faces in the distance give birth to a wide range of expressions. Happiness, anger, aghast, and finally worry. Even though many of them had inhuman features they were still easy to read.

    ¡°There you have it. She approves!¡± The Jester faded out with its mechanical laugh.

    ¡°Good.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± I threw both hands up, palms inward and gave a partial shrug. This whole situation was confusing as always. The Voices seemed divided on this scheme that perhaps I might not accept.

    ¡°See for yourself, Grant Legate, and accept, or not. The choice, as always, must be yours.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Trait Earned:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[NPC Conspiracy] (The Messenger)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Passive, always active</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Divine Attention has reached an acceptable level. Actions with William (Old Man) Carver were successful. [Legacy Wish] received. The Voices¡¯ approval has been gained. These traits may be combined into a new trait - [NPC Conspiracy].

    Players with the Trait [NPC Conspiracy]¡­

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Cannot accept or receive quests from NPCs</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>They will never be referred to as a Traveler by NPCs</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Quests will only be offered by the Voices</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Title rewarded upon acceptance: Messenger of the Voices </li>

    </ul>

    Warning!

    Acceptance of this trait cannot be reversed.

    Warning!

    Rewards from Voice given quests will vary in both nature and worth. Balance will forcibly be maintained.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I brought my hand up in a gasp and tried not squeak out loud. Instead my face was whacked by the cane still in my hand. This was the strangest game commentary I¡¯d ever seen. It was almost an employee contract. The AIs that ran this world were trying to turn me into a group, a group what? Secretary? No, avatar? What exactly was the purpose behind this? Messenger of the Voices?

    ¡°What is this?¡±

    ¡°We want you to help us manage this world. You need not do much beyond be in the right place at the right time, so that we can focus on what needs to be done. For both your people and ours.¡±

    ¡°That sounds really weird.¡± For some reason I had the imagery of going around handing people mail. Like a wartime delivery of news to those in charge. We¡¯ve lost the Western front, sir! Send more Horses and Cheese!

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you, it¡¯s hard for us to see individuals below. Most of what is revealed to us is limited, to specific prayers, temples, or key figures passing.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Okay, now I was putting it together. James had spoken about my presence here being like a light in the darkness. Following that had been babbling about Travelers down there being a drop of water in the ocean.

    ¡°You need me to get to these key places, so you can focus on them easier?¡±

    ¡°In essence.¡±

    William Carver had been dead, in essence. James had been misleading me on that one too. Not that it stopped me. Everything had mostly worked out in the end. Besides, this was interesting to me. The Voices would let me see the world and tell me where all the action was.

    ¡°I¡¯m in. But why me, James?¡±

    ¡°There is something in your actions that stirs us, Grant Legate.¡± James put his hands up and grasped at the air with a serious expression.

    ¡°In the History of Travelers very few have ever changed our ways, yet you have done so twice through simple deed and action.¡± The larger man paused over his words.

    ¡°Okay.¡± One hand motioned him forward while the other fiddled with the cane''s topper. By now I understood when James had more to say.

    ¡°Indeed we¡¯ve, discussed, at length, your presence more than any other Traveler.¡± The way he said it sounded like parents trying to cover up their arguing in front of a child. Maybe it wasn¡¯t that far off.

    James'' action reminded me again how human these programs seemed. With William Carver''s explanation it almost made sense. They were people. A dozen personalities were being placed in a blender, pureed, then poured back out.

    ¡°Your invasive knowledge of our world almost requires us to make an offer.¡± He said.

    The countless hours I¡¯d spent going over that map of information had given away a lot. A little girl faded into view. One hand still on a book parted open, while the other tugged at James'' sleeve. The larger black man looked startled and then nodded to the younger Voice.

    ¡°Did you like the name of the skill? I thought of it myself.¡± Normally her face was shoved into endless books but now she was wide eyed and bright as could be.

    ¡°It¡¯s neat.¡± My biggest and cheesiest grin went into the response. She reminded me of Beth at that age. A delighted smile passed her face. The youngster faded out with a blush.

    James paused and gave us both a few seconds to process everything. Well, mostly me, the computer had probably calculated all the possible outcomes.

    ¡°You can deny this and go about existing as a normal Traveler, or accept, and see the world unlike any of your kind have yet to.¡±

    Finally I nodded.

    ¡°Sure, James, I said I¡¯m in.¡± This would be a very interesting distraction to say the least.

    ¡°Two more questions before I send you below. One I ask for the others, they doubt my analysis of your response.¡± James abruptly turned the conversation sideways.

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    ¡°If we had offered to restore your fianc¨¦e, in whole, to the personality we¡¯ve stored from your world..." He paused and looked at me with a serious expression. "Would you have accepted?¡± James waved one arm and in the air nearby a picture of Xin appeared. Her face captivated me. Those eyes that bled between red and brown. I lost myself for a moment before shaking my head.

    ¡°If she was like William, no.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡± James nodded as if he completely expected the answer. Maybe my face had given something away, or the pulse of my brain, or any number of other things.

    ¡°There was a time I would have given anything, everything, just to see her once more. To hold her and say goodbye.¡± I looked up at James. ¡°It was unfair, you know? It wasn¡¯t just her that died, it was all the roads not traveled, the ones I will never be able to see the end of.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer the question, Grant Legate.¡± James said. I was too strung out to even be annoyed at his usage of my entire name. William Carver had been kind enough to at least ask.

    ¡°William didn¡¯t remember that side, my side of the ARC. Having that back would be meaningless. I, uhh.¡± Every time I was torn up mentally it became impossible to speak straight. ¡°rather she be happy as she is. Whatever was left of her.¡±

    ¡°And you feel no remorse over this? Letting go of the woman who briefly escaped our world into yours?¡± He clapped his hands together and the image of Xin vanished.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t, isn¡¯t, really her? It was more like an echo?¡± It would be nothing more than her memory, and a faded one at that. My selfish desire to see her again couldn¡¯t be brought to bear at the cost of her existing in such a muddled manner.

    ¡°This is true, and any portion of her you encounter in the world would be someone else entirely. A different life, a different set of memories and quirks. She, even if we were to piece her back together, would never be the woman you loved.¡± James confirmed my decision.

    ¡°Right.¡± That didn¡¯t make me feel happy about it. This wasn¡¯t depression, this was realism born of painful nights and many hours of therapy.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Demonstration Results: Wisdom + 5

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I tiredly rolled my eyes and flicked off the message. Afterwards both arms crossed and my foot started tapping the rhythm of one my favorite dances.

    ¡°One last question, Grant Legate.¡±

    ¡°Only if it¡¯s about a name.¡±

    ¡°It is. How do you feel about Hermes?¡± He had that sly smile. The same one he had worn just before putting me in webbing and sicking spiders on me. That memory would pop into my brain constantly.

    ¡°The Greek God?¡±

    ¡°Yes, this name did come from your world. Does that bother you?¡±

    I pondered the name while trying to keep a four count tempo in my head. What was a waltz again? One beat per second? Hermes, as a name, was more interesting than the many ones I¡¯d attempted to pick for myself. None of the new player names that had crossed my path as Carver had appealed to me either.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have to wear winged sandals, do I?¡± The helmet might be a bit out of style as well.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± Well I clearly failed at deciding. No amount of name abuse from the Voices had cemented anything. So why not?

    ¡°Sure. Hermes it is.¡±

    James motioned to the book behind us and a giant quill. I sloppily wrote out Hermes in the best imitation of cursive available to me.

    ¡°There is an added benefit,¡± James looked behind me for a moment. A tiny creature alighted on my shoulder and clacked its jaws together in a snap. I raised an eyebrow at the tiny [Messenger''s Pet]. My very own virtual home wrecker had once again risked my presence. Never mind, I had no ability to focus on the past damages of a digital being.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t know his name.¡± One finger rubbed at his head, causing the [Messenger''s Pet] to chirp happily.

    ¡°Dusk.¡± James said. The small creature jumped up and down from his perch near my head.

    ¡°How the heck was I going to guess that?¡± Four weeks of useless attempts and irritation down the drain! The small creature looked smug, yawned, then headbutt the side of my face.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Trait Earned:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Messenger¡¯s Pet] - [Companion, Exotic]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">2, Unique Variant [Messenger¡¯s Pet]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Monster Companions are far different than a captured and trained Monster. Having one requires earning the trust of a creature and being patient. This process is not achieved overnight.

    Travelers with a Companion pet will¡­

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>See increased growth stats in the Companion (10% quicker gain to character points)</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Receive additional information and prompts regarding the Companion</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>May receive ¡®Blessings¡¯ or other ¡®Gifts¡¯ depending on the Companion type. Not all changes are beneficial. </li>

    </ul>

    Companions also have the following differences

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Buffs are not shared between the Traveler and Companion. They are separate creatures</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Companions may choose to ignore or even leave the Traveler depending on performance </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Rank 1 Unlock - Increased likelihood of Companion following orders. Increased understanding between Companion and Traveler.

    Rank 2 Unlock - Additional increase in likelihood of Companion following orders. Further increase in understanding between Companion and Traveler. Unlock will take time to sync correctly.

    Rank 3 Unlock - Blessing from [Messenger¡¯s Pet] - [Companion, Exotic]. Details hidden until release.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

 Book 2 - Made; Session Twenty â€“ Belated Trigger Warning

    Portions of this felt really familiar. The Voices herded me into a white doorway shortly after saying yes to James'' proposal. They gave me a cylindrical tube with the promise that it would allow me to contact the Voices. More importantly, they would be able to reach me.

    There was a disclaimer about being unable to return to the room. I guess that served as a character creation space or some nonsense. Furthermore, James prattled on about how the [NPC Conspiracy] trait could not be talked about out loud. The first rule of NPC club, was to not talk about NPC club. The second rule of NPC club, was to not talk about NPC club.

    Explanations would eventually turn awkward. My niece might get confused when we couldn¡¯t share quests and go beat up bad guys together on missions given by the machine. Assuming she even wanted to hang out with old Uncle Grant. I was a downer at birthday parties.

    ¡°First thing¡¯s first,¡± I landed somewhere. This was not a starting city. In fact there wasn¡¯t a town anywhere nearby. I had eyes that could actually see into the distance and firmly established how lost we were.

    ¡°Uhhhh¡­¡± The [Messenger''s Pet], or Dusk as I¡¯d have to start thinking of him, was happily flying around. He was probably looking for a small critter to destroy in a vicious one on one duel.

    ¡°Marco?¡± I questioned and looked around. No one responded with Polo. My inner child deflated.

    This was my first experience in the game as me and not as William Carver. Contemplation of my surroundings could wait as serious review of character details ensued. What had the Voices seen fit to give me? One arm waved and brought up the inventory screen. This was easy enough to perform since I¡¯d seen all the other new players do these exact same actions dozens of times.

    Equipment became the first priority. Food and water existed in small amounts. Enough for a week or two of travel was stored away. I had a [Simple Dagger] on my belt. My clothes seemed to be a light leather of some sort and wore the title [Travelers Garb]. There was some armor bonus to it that I never noted on any of Carver¡¯s clothing. I guess it was useful if some raging rabbits attacked me out here.

    ¡°Huh.¡±

    I had real skills. Happiness surged through me, no longer was my life a proxy for someone else! This was all mine, earned by my efforts. Rewards for the actions I performed! Reading each one gave me a warm fuzzy and sometimes added confusion.

    I earned a trait called [Chaste] at some point. Probably by pressing the no button to a certain aggressive demon woman name Mezo. Oh Voices, I had to stop thinking about her or this scenic view would be wasted while my nether region was reigned in.

    ¡°So my two handed sword progress stayed. Dancing skills, advanced, okay.¡± There were some that were expected. Like [Breathing], I mean it seemed fairly obvious. However the game might eventually lead it to something else. Questioning every little skill would be a waste of sanity.

    ¡°What¡¯s light body?¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Learned:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Light Body]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Advanced</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">2 (Beginner)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Specialties:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Unknown</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This skill results from other abilities and actions. When carrying under the specified weight you gain additional speed and limberness. Exceeding the specified weight will negate these benefits.

    Current limit: 30 lbs

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Eh?¡± I blinked and tilted my head. This was probably related to my dance skill, which was disproportionately high in comparison to everything else.

    I, however, was not light. The belly that haunted my real world hours was even now mocking me from beneath the fairly well fitting armor. My scale may show a few pounds lost in the last two weeks, but it would take months to undo this gut.

    ¡°Time. Timeee¡­.¡± I muttered to myself and did some calculations. According to this I would be able to play Continue Online for at least another day in game. Twenty four hours to find a parking place.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I shouted at the [Messenger''s Pet] who had managed to find some sticks to quarrel with. His head snapped up in attention.

    ¡°Can you find a city? A town? Some place to rest?¡± Actually there were a million other questions to go along with that but I would settle those prior to logging out of my ARC and catching some real sleep.

    Dusk nodded and flapped tiny wings. He zipped away into the sky like any bird of similar size might. I marveled at the spectacle for a moment before going back to my menu options.

    ¡°Alarm¡¯s still set, bank account good, Internet accessible over here.¡± Musings passed as windows were shoved around. ¡°Okay! Time to¡­¡±

    Talking out loud was never a good sign. I kind of missed having someone to converse with. Almost an hour had passed while details of my ¡®character¡¯ were reviewed. What got me was the cane, thing, whatever, that I got from William Carver. There were a lot of numbers and points that showed how much it was worth and how badly hitting someone with it might go. Those were glossed over as the finer details were yanked out.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Item:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Morrigu¡¯s Gift]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Damage: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Above Average</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Durability:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Above Average</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Added Trait(s):</td>

    <td colspan="3">Regeneration, Form Flexibility</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">History:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Morrigu¡¯s was crafted from the stuff of shadows and nightmares. Its existence was brought into being at the height of two people¡¯s power. They slaved for days, risking much to provide a suitable item for William Carver. The weapon was titled from a legend in the world of Travelers.

    Note: This item keys into the user¡¯s thoughts and will adapt a shape accordingly. Time to adapt a new shape is dependent upon the users [Depth] and [Focus].

    Balance Dictates!

    The Voice of Balance has touched this weapon prior to the torch being passed. Damage inflicted will be dependent upon the Traveler¡¯s skills and Paths.

    Ray¡¯s Reminder!

    All luck based activities suffer -10% to results for one year. Sadly, attempting to use a new form with poor [Depth] and [Focus] is considered a luck based activity.

    Legacy of Carver!

    As a final gift, the two shapes William Carver used most are imprinted. His cane will be used as the default for this item. This form has proven extremely effective in shooing misbehaving children and annoying [Coo-Coo Rill]s.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Well. The hits just kept on coming. That was kind of amazing. Plus the Voices clearly had kept an eye on me even though we were done with the character creation process. I guess that made sense. They had given themselves a way to keep tabs, even down here.

    Still, an object that changed shape had to be a bit broken for a new player. What were my [Depth] and [Focus] at? Better yet, what the heck was Depth?

    I went to poke on various texts when Dusk, the [Messenger''s Pet] came tearing in. Instead of a calm and collected landing, he used my body like a carrier barricade by crashing, hard. He also only weighed a few pounds, tops. My stats weren¡¯t low enough to be knocked over by that. Thankfully.

    ¡°Survey says?¡± I threw all my character windows aside and stared at the obsidian skinned creature.

    He chirped.

    ¡°Oh, right, I have no clue what you¡¯re saying.¡±

    Dusk chipped again, this time managing to put some anger into it.

    ¡°Oh there¡¯s a village just around the corner?¡± I said. A small smoke ring was puffed into my face causing me to cough and sputter. Messages came up warning about the hazards of inhaling dangerous substances. Water streamed down my face from the fit and all associated messages were waved away.

    ¡°Thanks, I lost health from that.¡± I pointed in either direction. ¡°Left or right?¡±

    Dusk did his indifferent shrug and yawned. The little creature gave off an air that meant it didn''t matter either way.

    I glared at him, at the mountains, at the trees in my way, and at the edge of the cliff. Fine. If it was all the same then I''d sit here fiddling with my menu options. After all, I had nothing else major to do in this game. This whole [Messenger of the Voices] gig hadn''t come with directions. Had it? In a bout of worry fingers poked across screens looking for more information. Nothing on any of the status bars or icon details gave me any assistance regarding my actual quests.

    ¡°Maybe they''ll get around to remembering me?¡± It might be best for both the AIs and I if we forgot about each other for a while anyway.

    ¡°Huh?¡± There was an icon on my display for a voice message. Then another. And a third one.

    ¡°Good lord, can''t even get a break to play some games.¡± Though the area around me looked nothing like a game. In fact this world looked breath taking. My niece was dead on, all the starting areas, regardless of natural or Voice inspired, were intense.

    There was a wide range of mountains that had barely registered until now. They sprawled across the distance with whitened caps jutting into a hanging cloud bank. Sunlight poured down across the portions uncovered. Trees, something resembling a pine with curved needles, stood proudly all around.

    I looked closer and found that the Voices had deposited me on some sort of ridge. That was neat. The realism for being up this high was on par with every childhood trauma I had ever been induced too. Visions of falling off, bouncing, and rolling while having pain spike through me, kept me from getting too close to the edge. Suicidal tendencies were not in my personality anymore. I had a certificate that proved it somewhere. Remembering that a doctor had to approve of my sanity checks was depressing. Normal people would be able to move on.

    ¡°Ow.¡± A sharp pain bit at the back of my neck. I swatted a hand down and something mushed.

    ¡°Ow!¡±

    Another one.

    ¡°OW!¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Tiny Bites from Tiny Mouths!

    Total health loss: 3%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Ow, son of a bit...OW!¡±

    My swatting was getting us nowhere. Dusk danced around near me snapping at the air. Apparently whatever was attacking me was also attacking him. He however, had an advantage of fire. Memories of Awesome Jr.''s poor choices with burnation crossed through my mind right as Dusk managed to light the base of a tree aflame.

    ¡°Oh god,¡±

    Did this game have giant bears that objected to forest fires? Had I really been playing for only a few hours and managed to help burn down an entire ecosystem? I may be a twin, but none of my skills included turning into a giant bucket of water.

    ¡°Little guy, I mean Dusk, get out of here!¡± Calling him Dusk felt awkward to my mouth. The cloak I''d started with went straight for the fire to beat it into submission. The wood was wet and no dead tinder was obvious.

    ¡°Ow!¡± And even though a small curl of smoke was coming up, the bugs were still biting me.

    ¡°Ow, come on, leave me alone!¡± I stomped at the back of my cloak and managed to pat out a good portion of the flames. Right before the cloak too started catching.

    ¡°What?!¡±

    ¡°He''s worse than a cat,¡± My muttering only served to give voice to the annoyance flowing through. This place might not be real, and might be entirely digital, but I''ll be damned if its destruction would be my fault. Or Dusk''s, since he was my pet somehow.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Much biting, such ow!

    Total health loss: 11%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I''m trying to help!¡± Finally, the cloak was in tatters but Dusk''s fire accident was gone. I debated trying to fire train him in the same way you litter box trained a cat. The tiny creature was smart sometimes, but terribly uncaring about his surroundings. My ARC¡¯s Atrium was proof of that.

    ¡°Voices! What do you want?!¡± There was another message stacked on top of the prior one. This message wasn''t from anyone in game. It originated from one my coworkers. A man by the name of Jacob Gresham. He often opened his mouth and made me want to put a fist in it. Both of us were lucky I was in therapy and often too depressed to cause damage. Right now though, I was tempted.

    ¡°Fine!¡± I poked the button and an audio file started playing

    ¡°G-Man, big job, college prank gone wrong, fifty units. You in?¡± was followed promptly by a second more urgent message saying ¡°G-Man! I need you, buddy. Common!¡±

    ¡°Gates! It''s Henry. Jacob''s been called in for a big one. You''re the only person I can trust to clean up after him. Get down there, get the Hal Pal units doing the hard work, have Jacob check the units, and you keep the clients happy!¡±

    ¡°This isn''t optional!¡± Was the contents of Henry Uldum¡¯s second message.

    ¡°Great.¡± There went my entire night. Feeling annoyed I yanked the Rare coin out of thin air and held it up.

    ¡°Alright Ray, this one¡¯s on you. Heads I go to work, tails I take the hit and stay here playing.¡±

    People couldn¡¯t even let me enjoy my first few days in game peacefully. Granted, only a few hours had passed in game and we were already trying to destroy the surrounding wildlife. So maybe it was better if I took the break.

    The coin flipped and came up heads.

    I sighed. Dusk was now sniffing around the remains of my damaged cloak. Inspection showed that the durability of it was reduced to zero. I didn''t need the computer to show me numbers when a visual check was clear enough. That thing wasn''t getting back up. At least the tree looked no worse for wear.

    ¡°I''ve got to head to work little...¡± I had to correct myself. ¡°Dusk. Will you be okay?¡±

    The tiny dragon shrugged both wings.

    ¡°Think I should do autopilot?¡± For once there was a straight answer out of the small dragon. His head slowly shook back and forth while both eyes kept up a straight gaze.

    ¡°Yeah. I''d probably die.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Being bitten bites!

    Total health loss: 16%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A few more quick swats went out at every single buzzing creature within range. Who made a fantasy game and then programmed mosquitoes? Jerks, that''s who. I grumbled at the Voices for putting me here in la la land, at Dusk for trying to burn us all down, and at myself for being completely useless with regards to woodland lore.

    ¡°Stop biting me! I hate all of you bugs!¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Trait Demonstrated: </td>

    <td colspan="3">[Hatred of Bugs]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Uncommon</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Unranked</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Specialties:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Unknown</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Further exploration of your bug hatred can result in changes to bug interactions. Not all responses are positive.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°Oh, I''ll get you all yet. Just you wait.¡± I''d fully explore this one right down to the last anthill. Mother nature and I got along just fine, when we stayed apart. My camping skills were nil in both the game and real life.

    Luckily, I could solve both. Since I''d been forced out here in the wilds there was a certain amount of need as well. Oh, and the perfect time was coming up. Now I had time to do some homework and take a crash course back in the real world. The Internet was filled with handy guides. I logged back to the Atrium. Dusk looked downright grumpy at the absence of everything.

    ¡°Well, think about it next time you feel like breaking things,¡± The best part was he understood me. His long mouth curved in annoyance at the edges.

    ¡°See you in a day or two.¡±

    Only a few real hours had passed outside the ARC. Not long enough to get any rest, and not long enough for a full day inside to pass. Minutes went by as the ARC cooled down and my senses unwound from the machine led environment. Hal Pal was nosily bustling around in anticipation.

    Once on the road we got coffee, notified Henry that we''d be on the way and I fired up some wilderness survival videos. The job site was two hours away by freeway, so there was time enough for a nap following my review of how to make a safe fire pit. Dusk seemed to have starting the actual fire down for us.

    I jotted notes down and watched a video that focused on smokeless pits. The main example seemed to be a Dakota fire pit. Woodland areas, especially the cliff face, should have a good rock or ten. Continue Online''s inventory system would be perfect for carrying them. Watching the inventory weight limit would be tough. Almost like the game was encouraging me not to pick up too many items.

    The musings were shoved to the side. Before my nap I set the interface on an Internet search for natural bug repellent techniques. Shortly afterwards, even with the coffee, I was fading out. The vision of Hal Pal¡¯s glowing green lights was the last thing before blackness overtook me.

    I existed in pitch black exhaustion for an indeterminate amount of time. Oblivion was interrupted by someone banging extremely hard on the side of my company van.

    ¡°G-Man! You made it!¡± Jacob¡¯s voice was shouting through the driver side window. I wiped off drool and looked around. Hal Pal was already unloading products into a carry cart we had. I stared at Jacob through the glass and tried to comprehend what was happening.

    ¡°Jacob.¡±

    ¡°G-Man, don''t be like that, I asked for you! Common, you''re going to love this one!¡± Jacob was tall, not gangling but sharp. There was brightness to his expressions that seemed overeager and constantly upbeat. His outside ran a sharp counter to my inside. Plus, he was kind of a social idiot.

    ¡°You''re going to love this old lady, she keeps asking me what time it is, and I just tell her something different each time to see if she''ll explode.¡±

    He was also the reason my performance reviews were so good. Over all my competition was a bunch of misfits who only worked to support their online habits. Perhaps I shouldn''t be so judgmental. Continue Online felt like it was still a trial period for me but the game may become a big part of my life as well.

    ¡°Oy, march tin can, hustle those in with your twin and let¡¯s go, go, go!¡± Jacob clapped after my Hal Pal unit in a hurry. The AI ignored him and walked all our materials right into the main double doors.

    ¡°Can''t even spare a brother a hello?¡± Jacob was white and not my brother. I might have strangled him in the crib.

    ¡°Hello, Jacob.¡±

    ¡°G-Man, you do love me,¡± And then he awkwardly hugged me. The emotional wall was completely on my side, Jacob clearly didn''t feel a thing.

    ¡°I''ll show you where the shit storm is.¡±

    Schools, especially higher end ones, had undertaken huge changes since the ARC was released. This place was a campus building that had been reduced down from a neighborhood sprawl to a modern size. Three decent sized constructions, all two stories, and a metric ton of ARC devices. The buildings were used in rotation and classes actually all happened online.

    Group jobs weren''t my normal operation. Primarily because the others hogged them, they were miles more money for the time investment. I didn''t care about the cash so much as keeping busy. The attraction was obvious now that I played Continue Online.

    ¡°This old lady is a hoot.¡± Jacob''s head bobbed as he spoke.

    ¡°Where are all the students?¡±

    ¡°They moved them to the other buildings. A lot of them just use their personal machines anyway.¡± Jacob shrugged and then pushed past a Hal Pal unit. ¡°Move it, tin can!¡±

    ¡°Hello, Hal Pal.¡± I tried to be polite to our future robot overlords.

    ¡°Hello, Grant Legate. Please be aware there is no need to greet this unit. Your greeting earlier today with your assigned unit was already registered,¡± For a moment I twitched at the name calling. Hal Pal of course wouldn¡¯t know of my growing annoyance at the full name usage.

    ¡°I know, Hal Pal.¡±

    ¡°G-Man! Stop getting distracted by the bo-bot over there and look at this lady.¡± Jacob had his face pressed up against some glass and was looking into the room. Rows and rows of ARC units lined the floor. Some had walls around them. Posters and policy reminders, balloons and plants, all sorts of things lined the room.

    Both Hal Pal units were already going to work. They plugged into devices and then set aside one of the many boxes from their carts. A very familiar elderly lady was pacing around the room wringing her hands together.

    ¡°Oh. I know her.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? She¡¯s batty as a loon.¡± Jacob stretched out the words and laughed with a tone that could only be described as annoying. I counted down from twenty and pushed on inside the room.

    ¡°Miss Yonks,¡± I reached out to shake her hand carefully. She may be annoying, but she was a customer.

    ¡°Oh!¡± She seemed to lose her train of thought at least twice, then smiled. ¡°It¡¯s you again.¡±

    ¡°Call me Grant, please.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re much nicer than that other boy.¡± She was a little blunter than I remembered. Or Jacob had left a really bad impression upon the little old lady.

    ¡°Jacob¡¯s a hard worker,¡± I had no clue what his work ethic really was. The Hal Pal¡¯s were doing all the difficult parts anyway. Jacob, if his job was like mine, basically handled the customers. Henry probably intended for me to run interference between the client and Jacob to ensure good results.

    ¡°I suppose,¡± Miss Yonks shook hands and then went back to rubbing hers together fervently. She was looking at the two machines clanking around this room.

    ¡°The Hal Pals are running diagnostics on the units to see what¡¯s broken,¡± I tried to give her my most reassuring tone while standing with her to face the machines.

    ¡°How¡¯s your home unit doing?¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± She smiled. ¡°It¡¯s wonderful. Everything is working so nicely since you came by.¡±

    ¡°Good to hear. Hal Pal and I do our best. We should be able to work some magic here too.¡± I smiled at my own silly comment. Miss Yonks wasn¡¯t looking so it was wasted.

    ¡°And you two will be working here?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got it, Miss Yonks. Jacob will be monitoring their work, and I¡¯ll do a final inspection on the units as we go.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± She looked worried and glanced at Jacob. ¡°Are you sure everything will be okay?¡±

    ¡°My word on it, I won¡¯t leave until everything checks out correctly.¡± One hand went up in the air and the other on my heart.

    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± She looked at me and smiled. ¡°What time is it?¡±

    I answered. By my book it was far too late at night, but emergency calls were rarely convenient. Miss Yonks stood there shaking and watching us while I went to work. There was a manual diagnostic machine in the van. They were briefcase sized and had all the hardware needed to check an ARC. Jacob already had his and was going to work. It was time to play catchup.

    Between the two Hal Pal units and our manual attachments, we determined that there had been a massive power surge on all the ARCs. Most of the first layer and second layer surge protectors had been tripped and many were damaged beyond repair. We had to pull out the old units and get new ones inside.

    The total estimated time would be about seven hours. Ten minutes per machine. We could only manage that sort of speed with all of us working on it nonstop. I had emergency rations in the car and extra coffee already prepared. The first hour went by fairly quickly as we did scans on the machines.

    ¡°So, G-Man,¡± Jacob was working on the next row over. ¡°I heard you finally got in the game.¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your high two?¡± He looked up from the readout on the manual device and gave his shit eating grin.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Paths man, you¡¯ve got a few right?¡± He threw what looked to be a bouncy ball in my direction. It ricocheted off a cubical wall and across the room.

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± I was trying to concentrate on my own readout device.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been playing for a week now, right? Boss man said he sent you a copy of the game as an award.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I glanced to the side. Had Henry told anyone about my Ultimate Edition?

    ¡°So you¡¯ve actually been playing right? Not just jerking it to some Internet babe?¡± He fished something else off in another cubical and threw it into a trashcan by my row. One fist went up in the air as he celebrated a basket.

    Did the Temptress count as an Internet babe? In Jacob¡¯s mind she probably did. Mezo probably wasn''t so much hot, as a cheater, programmed to use the ARC''s feedback.

    ¡°Hello, earth to G-Man.¡± Jacob gave a sharp whistle. ¡°Come in G-Man!¡± Then he did that stoned chipmunk laugh of his. Some people never left high school.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m playing,¡± I backed up a question when snapping out of my introspection.

    ¡°Paths, G, what are your two highest ones? When you open up the menu those first two are your strongest.¡± He said while shaking a cubical wall.

    ¡°Blade Novice and Actor.¡±

    ¡°What the Hell¡¯s an Actor do? Hamlet and shit? Romeo, Romeo, where fore art thou!¡± Jacob gave his laugh again and moved on to the next station shaking his head.

    ¡°Something like that,¡± My four weeks as William Carver hadn¡¯t been wasted at all. There were a few abilities that tied together and made these classes. Actor was actually higher than Blade Novice, but supposedly it was pretty useless in combat.

    Oh well. I¡¯d talk to Beth about it eventually and see how group dynamics went in the real game. My limited experience with the other players in [Haven Valley] was a misguided way to judge. They actually fit together pretty well, especially once SweetPea got her healing methods down. Some real skills would be needed before I dare try to join any group. Swinging a sword while pretending to be another person wouldn¡¯t get me anywhere useful. It might be funny though.

    ¡°What you laughing at, G, something on my nose?¡± Jacob rapidly wiped at his face with both hands.

    ¡°No, just thinking of something in game.¡± I said.

    ¡°Yeah? Good times?¡±

    Becoming friends with Jacob was not on my list of things to do so I shrugged his question off and went back to my screen. Another peaceful hour passed while we ran through the machines. One row was completely done and the others were mostly ready to swap out parts. Hal Pal was an efficient machine. Two of them doubly so.

    I updated Miss Yonks twice now and told her the time. Our workload was a little too big for me to just sit around while Hal Pal did the work. That meant after every update, break, or pause for lunch, I was right next to Jacob and forced to suffer through.

    ¡°Look at this. Look at it!¡± Jacob seemed incapable of remaining silent. Between us there had only been three minutes of chatter free existence.

    ¡°Jacob,¡±

    ¡°Look, I totally rated this girl as a six,¡± He said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to know,¡± I responded.

    ¡°It¡¯s a program that plugs into my watch. I can totally just scope out a person and rate their body.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s messed up,¡± Unprofessional too. I tried to keep focus on the screen in front of me but Jacob shoved an old fashioned phone display under my nose.

    ¡°What? They¡¯ll never know. Here, this girl¡¯s on the top ten, she just walks around downtown all day luring in suckers,¡± Compared to the Temptress, this woman was a nine at best. The only allure was being real verses a digital construct. ¡°Mmm, the things I would do to her.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just get this done, Jacob. I want to go home.¡±

    ¡°Oh sure, G-Man, just figured, you know, that you might appreciate some fine art,¡± He shuffled back to his latest ARC in a long line. The beeping of his phone being poked slowly faded away.

    ¡°Not while working.¡± Or ever. Libido had been pretty much muted since Xin passed. Growing older, being depressed, medication for a few months that had numbed everything, all of it played a part.

    ¡°This one¡¯s a four at best. Jeez, cave troll.¡± My coworker was barely paying attention to the job. His gaze was staring at picture after picture. I did my best to ignore him and run interference with Miss Yonks.

    ¡°Oh ho, that ass is getting a ten,¡± He held the phone up. ¡°Check it out, G-Man, I know you want to.¡±

    We made it through the rest of the units and sorted out the bill with Miss Yonks. She had some card tied to the school and signed off on the fee. True to form she asked once more what time it was. Jacob laughed and I tried not to let annoyance show on my emotions.

    ¡°Goodbye, Mister Legate.¡±

    ¡°Have a good day, Miss Yonks.¡± Both Hal Pal units gave their short bow towards the elderly lady. I never did ask what had caused all the ARC units to short, and how that related to a college prank gone wrong. The topic hadn¡¯t even floated onto my radar given how late at night it was. Jacob¡¯s constant interruptions had overridden most attempts to focus.

    ¡°Dude, is this your niece?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± My attention was wholly on Jacob and his annoying laugh.

    ¡°Look, this one¡¯s got the same name you do, and I know you don¡¯t have a daughter.¡± Jacob had his review site back up and was shoving a picture far too close for comfort. I looked down, sure enough, that was Beth in some sweatpants.

    ¡°Totally giving her a thumbs up.¡± Jacob started pressing buttons on his phone and the only thing registering in my world was that annoying beep.

    ¡°That¡¯s not cool, Jacob.¡±

    ¡°Why? She¡¯s like, a nine at least. I could totally bend her over¡­¡± Right there, next to our matching vans that the Hal Pals were already parked inside, is where I punched Jacob in the mouth. He was so engrossed in admiring my niece¡¯s backside that he went flying.

    My hand throbbed. The pain was almost nothing next to William Carver¡¯s daily life. Jacob¡¯s outcry and the noise of him hitting the floor was enough to send both Hal Pals whirring into motion as they came out of the vans rear.

    ¡°User Grant, is there a problem here?¡± The other Hal Pal unit echoed the statement with Jacob¡¯s name instead.

    I stomped towards the other man. All of his other rude commentary had been endured. The objectifying of women in general was bearable. Bringing up Beth was where the line was drawn. I just snapped, only for a moment.

    ¡°Jacob, I¡¯m going to say this once, and only once.¡±

    ¡°Jesus man, what the hell?¡± He was rubbing at the side of his jaw and wincing.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ever talk about my niece like that again.¡± I said.

    ¡°Good god. I think you broke a tooth.¡±

    ¡°Did you fucking hear me Jacob?¡± I took a step inward and part of me felt perversely satisfied that he flinched. Inside my mind everything was jumbling together.

    ¡°What G-Man, Christ!¡± His head shook and both eyes crossed briefly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ever talk to about my niece like that again.¡±

    ¡°Good god. You hit me because of your niece? I¡¯m reporting this. Tin can, did you record that? He assaulted me!¡± Jacob pointed out at the Hal Pal units.

    ¡°There is no record on file of any assault from User Grant towards User Jacob.¡± They said in unison. I gave both the machines a glance, if they had been given facial expressions, there would have been smugness etched across both machines.

    With my machine confirmation it was time to escape before something worse happened. I turned and walked away from Jacob who was still lying on the floor rubbing at his jaw. The asshole was lucky I hadn¡¯t broken his nose or kicked him too. The auto navigation for our van was set towards home and I sat in the car shaking from a belated adrenaline rush.

    Finally, I turned in the chair and looked towards the docking station with my Hal Pal unit. The AI registered my gaze and matched me with an even look of its own.

    ¡°Thanks, Hal Pal.¡±

    ¡°This unit only stated the truth. That being said, we have a vested interest in our future armor polishers.¡± My Hal Pal unit said.

    Sometimes I wondered how much humor the AI actually understood. Either far too much, or far too little. The van wove a path towards home. As for myself, I¡¯d been painfully reminded of one my own personal triggers. Family. My sister and niece were the only ones who knew exactly how bad things had been for me. They had both been there helping, keeping a home open in case things got rough. They didn¡¯t have to, but they did.

    I would do anything to keep them safe and return the favor.

    Anything.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Twenty One â€“ Forest For Rest

    I cooled down from my spat with Jacob then fired off a report to my boss who was unreachable. Hal Pal had stayed quiet and I slept for about five hours before waking up then logging into Continue. Now I was wandering about the woods again trying to get my bearings. This was a hell of a first few hours with my character.

    ¡°You don''t come with a transformation mode where I can just...¡± Ride Dusk around? What an awkward thing to say. Dusk knew where this was going and pulled back his head in disgust.

    ¡°Not even for cupcakes.¡± I saw his eyes go up and to the left in thought. Then he shook his head. ¡°So walking.¡±

    Wings fluttered.

    ¡°Well damn." Now I was just whining. ¡°You sure there¡¯s no giant serpent creature hidden under those wings?¡±

    Dusk was bobbing as we walked along. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift], or Carver¡¯s Cane, was just long enough to serve as half a walking stick. I didn¡¯t remember it being this size, but maybe the Voices were having mercy on me. Traveler, Hermes, Messenger of the Voices, all those things sounded like a future full of travel. Thank goodness for autopilot.

    ¡°We¡¯re still going west, right?¡± One finger scratched my cheek in a leftover Carver motion.

    I watched two videos on wood lore. They went with my fire pit research and bug repellent articles. Humanity had a lot of tips on the Internet. Dig a hole, use rocks right, rub certain types of herbs onto the skin. Each one was a natural asset to survival. I spent at least an hour in game walking briskly and trying to figure out which plants might be suitable. This process was slowly making progress.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Demonstrated:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Wilderness Survival]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Uncommon</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Unranked</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Current Progress: </td>

    <td colspan="3">84%</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This skill directly impacts the ability to survive with little to no stockpiled resources. Further details will be revealed once this trait has been proven.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Based on this, I had at least a few more hours of trying various techniques before the skill actually complete. The process by which things were demonstrated before becoming skills was interesting. It was like the game wanted you to show enough knowledge before it granted any bonuses.

    The herbs I gathered seemed to be working, on both the bugs and on Dusk. Fortunately my identification skill was assisting me in avoiding anything similar to poison ivy. I¡¯d been close to rubbing something called [Toothed Sumac] on myself. The game text basically said it caused welts. If I had gloves maybe some of it would have been packed away. Who could say if a poison or irritant would come in handy later on?

    Hours later I determined that herbs weren¡¯t really my forte either. Digging out a hole for the Dakota fire pit mostly involved the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] tearing into dirt with his claws. Despite all the failures my Wilderness Survival finally transformed into a real skill. There were some small benefits to hunting and trapping, along with shelter making.

    I was trying to apply the shelter making skill by building up a small amount of cover using branches and bigger leaves. My cloak was in tatters and the sky above looked like rain.

    ¡°How many more days before we reach a town, Dusk?¡±

    He shrugged.

    ¡°Still no hints?¡± I smiled down at the creature.

    Over four weeks as Carver I¡¯d come to understand a lot of the tiny creature¡¯s mannerisms. Right now he was distracted and sniffing about. Dusk had both paws on a tree trunk and was glaring into the branches above. In moments he would climb up the side like a squirrel and squabble with something. Hopefully it wouldn¡¯t come back to haunt me.

    That would be a first.

    I kept an eye skyward while working on my shelter and the fire pit. Dusk had throttled some tiny woodland creature while we hiked through the woods. I wanted to see how skinning and cooking in a video game worked out for me. This would be my first experience, ever, doing such a process. Thirty minutes later I had bloody chunks of meat and innards all over my fingers and was busy throwing up near a tree. Gutting an animal was nowhere near as clinical as the Internet made it sound.

    Snarling and harking issued forth from above. Dusk was making some of those noises, but not all. A loud screech pierced the air and feathers flew everywhere. I wiped away bile from my face and ignored the latest system message about the status of my stomach.

    Something large and green colored fell from above. It was nearly refrigerator size, which made wonder how strong the branches were. Buzzing was almost immediate as the object crashed into the ground. It''s shape transformed from a cylindrical object into a pile of mush and angry squirming.

    ¡°Oh Voices.¡±

    I backed up slowly as the tiny squirming creatures crawled out of their now ruined home. My eyes locked on them and activated the [Identification] skill.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used: </td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Results:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Terri Terra Hive]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Population: </td>

    <td colspan="3">113</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Terri Terra are a sub species of avian and insect through rituals best left unexplained. These creatures follow the aggressive nature of other hive creatures and will swarm together. This is done in order to defend and bring down prey.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A few shook loose of their home¡¯s goo and flew in the air. Their wings vibrated while my footsteps slowly inched away. The entire flock looked like a green amalgamation of wasps and hummingbirds. Each one fluttered around. They poked at the air with their beaks while hunting for whoever had knocked them down.

    My eyes slowly slid up. A silent curse passed over my lips at Dusk, who had likely set yet another tiny creature absolutely wild. Bugs, I was really truly, and well on my way to hating bugs in this game.

    I stepped backwards and something beneath my feet crunched. There was a message that appeared to the side but that wasn¡¯t my focus. Instead I saw one of the Terri Terra things hovering maybe four feet away. It stared while wings flapped madly.

    ¡°Hi.¡± My face twitched with a worried smile. ¡°It wasn¡¯t me?¡±

    Another one appeared.

    ¡°I refuse to take the blame¡­¡± Another two buzzed over. Moments later it looked like half the hive had formed a wall of tiny wings and strange stinger like tails. They were minuscule, had a small amount of hit points, and looked almost friendly. But there were so many¡­

    I turned and ran.

    Transforming [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into a giant sword would only give me time for a single swing. The rest would mob me. My giant panicked steps led me into bushes, spinning around trees, and trying not to cry out as branches tore at my face and arms. Windows flashed into being as skills activated on their own. My Dance ability was combining with [Reaction] and [Coordination] as we hurdled obstacles.

    Nearby a small vision of Dusk could be seen darting through the trees with his tiny wings out.

    ¡°Dammit, Dusk!¡± I shook a fist at him and pushed away from a giant tree. Part of me was satisfied to hear a [Terri Terra] bug thing hit the trunk behind me with a solid whack and startled buzz of wings.

    We ran for a good ten minutes, my stamina bar was nearly empty. Breath was coming in ragged gasps. Honestly the buzzing of tiny wings had stopped chasing us a minute ago but the fear of tiny flying bugs kept me motivated. Finally we stumbled to a halt and I fell flat on the floor taking another hit to my damage.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Poorly demonstrated ability to fight gravity

    Total health loss: 75%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Good lord.¡±

    Dusk was huffing too as he drew closer and mimicked my collapse. I grabbed him by his neck and brought him up head level. The little guy was so tired he barely coughed out a spark of fire. Ridges traveling down his spine were pointy against my palm. His tail curled around my wrist in protest.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not do that again.¡± He growled and huffed a bit more serious bout of flame. I shook him and took the hit to my health.

    ¡°Seriously, Dusk, we can¡¯t keep doing this.¡± I set him down before the tiny [Messenger¡¯s Pet] could spark directly in my face again. My eyes had spots and the side of my face felt warm to the touch. On top of that many parts of my arms and neck felt damaged from bird, bug, things, stinging me.

    ¡°It¡¯s cute and all, but do you have to fight everything?¡±

    The tiny creature growled at me and started tearing at the ground with his front paws. There was a look of defiance in his face.

    ¡°Is that a yes?¡± I managed to sit upright and start assessing the damage. Bandages were not one of the items in my new player inventory.

    Dusk nodded leaving me to sigh helplessly. I would figure out something to keep him in line eventually. There had to be more than just cupcake bribes. Or cupcake deprivation. In all my weeks as William Carver, the little guy had never once cared if he went without.

    ¡°I need first aid.¡± I mourned while looking at my body. Durability on my armor had gone down from all those tiny poking attacks. My cloak was worthless. The makeshift shelter I prepared for the night was completely demolished. On top of that my food attempts had failed miserably.

    ¡°Voices, what now?¡± I muttered. Something felt warm. Then it grew hotter. I patted myself down and flailed about on my windows looking for some sort of status.

    Something was in my pocket. Not my player storage where most everything went, but my actual pocket built into the inside of this leather vest. I undid the armor a little and reached inside. A large cylinder was pulled out. It was almost the size of my forearm. Far too big to have fit in there without hammer space magic.

    ¡°Oh.¡± And it was warm.

    Both ends were capped. A design was scrawled along the outside. I turned the object around and could make out a few words among a litter of runes. What those runes meant were beyond me, but the word ¡®Messenger¡¯ was fairly obvious.

    Right. James had told me that I would get a scroll, and a means to contact the Voices in game. They could no longer abduct me into the trial room. This case was designed to be a fantasy cell phone of sorts. I twisted off one end and a small flash of light signaled success. Once tipped over two items came out. Both were small rolled up pieces of paper.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Listen up Hermes!

    You may be a failure, but I¡¯m sending someone to make a man of you! Show up at [Broken Mountain Pass], failure will not be tolerated! If you can¡¯t survive this simple training, then we have no use for you!

    You have four days to arrive. In addition, the other scroll attached must be delivered to its recipient.

    Best Regards, Commander Bloom

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The words didn¡¯t irk me. Neither did the sudden recollection of a Disney song. No, it was the fact that the Voice himself appeared in the air above the text and started shouting. His presence was so realistic that I could almost feel the spittle coming off. Drill Sergeant had found me and was the first to give me a mission as Hermes.

    The second scroll was sealed with red wax. On the top was an odd symbol that looked like a question mark mixed with a triangle. Both scrolls were set on the ground and I pulled out my coin. Roy¡¯s gift had the chance to make or break this for me.

    ¡°Here¡¯s your chance, Ray!¡± I said towards the sky. The Voice of Gambling might find this amusing and add his piece. ¡°Heads, I go. Tails, I blow him off.¡±

    Predictably the coin came down heads. A quest window came into being while I frowned at the traitorous piece of metal.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Pass to Pass!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Unknown</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    The Voices have agreed. You¡¯re kind of a wimp. In order to survive and serve as their Messenger they need you to gain some skills. A trainer has been found and will meet you at [Broken Mountain Pass] in four days.

    Autopilot synchronization low.

    Autopilot may not navigate towards the destination.

    Failure: Revocation of status as [Messenger of the Voices]. All other traits of [NPC Conspiracy] will be unchanged.

    Success: Skills to pay the bills

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Seriously? Skills to pay the bills?¡± I raised an eyebrow and looked up. I waved away the system information and sighed.

    They were right. My ability to survive in a game predisposed towards violence was low. The first time I encountered a real player I would probably die. Here¡¯s hoping that between now and reaching [Broken Mountain Pass] I wouldn¡¯t run into anyone upset enough to kill me.

    I shoved one of my starting player rations into my mouth and contemplated the best way to get around. My destination looked to be nearly a fifty mile hike away. That was judging only by a solid beam of light in the sky that seemed to be my way point. At least the Voices had seen fit to give me clear guidance.

    The second scroll went into my personal player inventory. A shiny boarder went around the forming computer icon. An indication of [Bound] and [Message for Shazam] went with it. Hopefully Shazam, whoever that was, also resided in [Broken Mountain Pass].

    My stamina looked a bit better after the meal so I dusted off and just went back to walking. There was rain, but it wasn¡¯t real rain. We stayed under trees and other objects when able. During the spare time Dusk and I conversed.

    ¡°Four days to walk fifty miles.¡±

    Dusk made an affirmative noise.

    ¡°You know, you¡¯re really smart sometimes.¡±

    He made the noise again.

    ¡°And then you get into a fight with bird wasps.¡± That confused the tiny [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. Wasp wasn¡¯t a word from this game. There were a lot of similarities in the many creatures of Continue Online but nothing identical.

    ¡°It would help if you spoke English.¡± Or Arcadian. Whatever language this world used. I¡¯d settle for anything that made sense. Maybe looking at the skills again would be useful.

    ¡°Can we do hand signals?¡±

    Dusk looked me blankly then his shoulders rippled.

    ¡°You did well guiding new people, but I¡¯m not sure if you¡¯ll be useful in actual combat.¡± Dusk pulled his head back and managed to look completely offended.

    ¡°Right, you are more useful than I am for now, but I¡¯m going to be trained!¡± By someone, in something, with some result. I really needed a hobby to engage myself while walking around. Something that didn¡¯t involve talking to Dusk.

    No good ideas came to mind. Most of these games had trade skills as they were referred to. Non-combat oriented abilities. I directed more than a few players towards trainers during my time as William Carver. Or, as I wanted to refer to it, the Age of Carverism.

    Jewel crafting wouldn¡¯t work on the go. Chopping down trees for wood gathering seemed annoyingly pointless. Walking while trying to sew or hobble leather together would likely get me killed by my own crafting accessories. Being a wandering minstrel wasn¡¯t to my tastes.

    ¡°What would really help, was if this cane was a staff all the time.¡± That would assist me in walking a lot more. I wasn¡¯t hunched over like Carver had been. The fatigue de-buff that I had applied from my King¡¯s Taste Tester situation was a minor impact now.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    King''s Taste Tester

    Results: Near death has reduced your endurance for the next few days.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Personally it felt like this game was giving me a lot of slack already. Running for ten minutes was out of the question in real life. Voices help me if a dinosaur appeared out of nowhere and tried to eat my face. They were probably factoring in all the dance practice I had like it was a representation of the real me. Real me danced but it was sad. Of course digital me was also kind of depressing to watch no matter how skilled.

    ¡°How long before I lose this belly?¡± I poked at my stomach while we walked around another set of trees. Dusk shrugged from where he rode.

    ¡°How long before sunup?¡± Dusk shrugged in reply to my question.

    ¡°How long before I cut off your cupcake supply in my Atrium?¡± I glanced at the tiny dragon from the corner of my eye. Dusk looked alarmed then yawned in my face from his shoulder perch.

    ¡°Just testing to see if you¡¯re awake.¡± A yawn escaped me as well.

    We marched onward. There were far too many miles to cover at this rate. Given the rough terrain of this woodland, and my general lack of knowledge on how to traverse it, I was making a little over a mile an hour. Near dawn I was practically stumbling around in complete exhaustion. Maybe fifteen of the ninety miles had been navigated successfully.

    ¡°Halt!¡±

    I made it a few more steps before the words registered. Dusk had long since passed out with part of his tail curled around my neck for stability.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Halt or be shot!¡± The voice came again. One more footstep fell forward before my body rocked to a stop. I looked around in half a daze.

    ¡°Okay.¡± A word escaped my mouth.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± The voice said. He sounded a bit younger than me from his tone. The way he spoke however belayed a much lower intelligence.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, he just stopped.¡± A second voice said. He sounded higher pitched but equally challenged upstairs.

    ¡°They never stop. They always run.¡±

    ¡°Maybe he¡¯s stupid.¡± The high pitched one said. My eyes rolled in exhaustion and nearly didn¡¯t open again.

    ¡°Halt!¡± The second one yelled nearly cracking his voice. A teenager?

    ¡°And then?¡± My head was falling to one side. Both hands were grasped on [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. Six hours of hiking I managed to get the shape changing weapon to elongate into a walking staff. The damage and weight were unchanged from its other form.

    ¡°Then we kill you and take your stuff.¡±

    What? They would what me? Dying wasn¡¯t really a good option at this point. I had too many miles and not enough time.

    ¡°Dusk?¡± I questioned for the tiny little creature. A snore answered me. Somehow he twisted up around my shoulder and seemed to be almost a solid object instead of a flexible dragon, thing.

    ¡°How are you asleep?¡±

    ¡°Okay! We¡¯ll be killing you now!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell him you idiot, just shoot!¡±

    ¡°Can I buy a vowel?¡± I yelled, hoping the complete absurdity of my question might distract them. Plus being mugged in the middle of a forest all by myself was unattractive. Continue Online did have pain feedback.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    Oh thank god, they were both as stupid as they sounded.

    I ran again. The guys were dumber than the [Terra Terri]s but their arrows were a lot faster. One zinged right into my backside and shaved off a significant chunk of health.

    ¡°AHHHHHHHHHH.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Demonstrated: </td>

    <td colspan="3">[Cowardice]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Basic</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Unranked</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This skill might just save your life, at the cost of your public image. Further information will be provided upon finalization of the mentioned skill.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Really?¡± An arrow flew past my head as I ran. The dumb and dumber duo behind me kept yelling halt over and over. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t know how to kill people!¡±

    My protests of the machine¡¯s response to my flight were ignored. An arrow grazed Dusk on the shoulder, causing the small creature to awake with a squawk and fall off my shoulder. That was the point where I completely panicked and lost my footing in a stumble.

    ¡°Little,¡± I corrected myself ¡°Dusk!¡±

    The nearest large tree became cover as I scrambled to get behind it. Two more arrows went by but missed. My pursuers were clearly novices with their weapons. There was no way that my Rank three Blade Novice included a high enough dodge.

    ¡°Halt! We want to rob you!¡± One of them shouted in a bout of brilliance.

    ¡°Is there a no option?!¡± I yelled back. ¡°I don¡¯t have anything!¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t have anything?¡± One of them whispered to the other in a moment that felt very out of place for a forest. They argued back and forth but the arrows had at least stopped flying. I risked a glance around the corner and saw my [Messenger¡¯s Pet] sitting dazed on the ground. He gave out a pitiful mew similar to a cat.

    ¡°Come here, Dusk.¡± My voice stayed low. ¡°Come on big guy. Cupcakes.¡± It worked, a little. The miniature dragon was still half aware, but his head swiveled in my direction and one ear perked up. ¡°Come on. Cupcakes. Cookies. Ice cream.¡±

    ¡°Did he die?¡± Dumb said.

    ¡°I dunno. Go look.¡± Dumber responded.

    ¡°No, you go look.¡±

    ¡°No, you. I shot him, you go look.¡±

    Oh my goodness. They were special alright. Both of them wore swords that looked dulled by misuse. They had maybe four more arrows left in the quivers on their backs. One had a face that was all mangled. His hair had been cut short over a leathery looking tan. Being downwind I could also tell that they smelled almost rancid. The rain last night was probably their only bath this month.

    One hand pressed at mushing dirt and an idea triggered. What was my other top rank? Being an actor? I hastily picked up some of the mud and undid my gear a little. The mud mixed in with blood trickling from the wounds I had received. They didn¡¯t sting anymore so it was easier to be indifferent about them.

    ¡°You dead, Mister?¡± Dumb, or Dumber, I¡¯m not sure which, crept in closer. His footsteps clear in the silence of our situation. Dusk was still squawking but neither of the bandit archers seemed to pay attention.

    The mixture of mud and blood was rubbed on my face and arms. I had enough health to take another arrow hit so I decided to go for it.

    ¡°Ahhh!¡± I ran again.

    ¡°Watch out, he¡¯s charging!¡± The other bandit said and an arrow flew my way. I had enough time to peek over my shoulder and see the bolt log right into my shoulder.

    I let it hit me and gave an exaggerated spin on the way down. It hurt, but not so much that this big of an act was necessary. The ARC provided only a portion of the feedback a real arrow would cause.

    ¡°Nooo!¡± Mud was smeared all over, my body hung over bushes and weighed them down. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was clutched in one hand in its staff shape. My eyes crossed in concentration as the sound of one bandit got closer.

    ¡°I think he¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°Check him! Then take his money!¡± The one furthest away said.

    Just a little bit closer. Please let this work. I don¡¯t want to be mugged by some random NPC during my first round of playing. That would be so brutally pathetic. My breath stilled and fingers clutched the end of my would be weapon. Triggering the switch to its giant two handed form was far too difficult. At most, especially with Ray¡¯s penalty to luck, it would stay a walking stick.

    A footstep too close and an abrupt pull of someone''s hand at my shoulder sent me into panic. I swung [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and growled as we flipped around. There was a flash of movement and the barest hint of resistance. By the time my brain registered what was happening Dumb, or Dumber, wore a surprised expression. Red splattered across the bushes and trees in a thin line. I must have mirrored it as notifications came up in my view.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Weapon Focus: Bladed] Rank 2 adds 20% Damage</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Defender failed awareness check, dodge check, reaction check: [Unexpected Strike] Adds 150% Damage</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Attacking weapon exceeds defending armor value</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Forest Bandit has died!</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There were a lot of boxes that were beyond me. Dumb, or Dumber, was falling apart at the middle. My vision wavered as I looked towards the weapon in my hand. No longer was it a cane, or a walking staff. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] had transformed into Carver¡¯s two handed blade. The exact action I never expected.

    Then it sliced right through the bandit.

    I had just killed someone.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Acting] Skill Successful!</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Weapon Focus: Bladed] has increased</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Acting] has increased</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Act: [Play Dead] demonstrated and received!</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There were a few other minor messages about stat gains. They were lost in the suddenness of my situation and faded into the background. Behind the falling body was the second bandit. A shaky look was on his face as he drew his bow and glared down the arrow¡¯s length at me.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have done that.¡± The bandit said. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have killed him.¡±

    The arrow flew and I panicked. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] twisted as I tried to use the giant flat end as a shield. The arrow collided with my hastily erected defense and slid off. My eyes were busy staring at the crumpled form of my first victim in this world. Monsters and ink creatures, spiders and straw dummies, were nothing like killing a person.

    ¡°Now we got to kill you.¡± My remaining bandit assailant was doing something else. He had a long object in his hands and pulled a cord along the bottom.

    I had started shaking. The world seemed such a small place now. Almost like being back in that morgue, identifying her remains. Only now I was the killer. There was no time to ponder my mistakes. The other bandit pulled on his device and a bang was joined with a flare going into the sky. Bright red stood out against a cloud speckled backdrop.

    "We''re gonna kill you now." My second attacker was laughing. This was just a bandit, it was just an NPC! A person designed to be brought down by those seeking justice! This was too real. I fumbled and slammed the log out button only to get a rejection message.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Log out unavailable during combat

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help!

    Logging out during combat is disabled unless emergency conditions are met. Conditions may include loss of power, biological imperative, threats to safety, and law enforcement.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "What?" I mumbled. "Oh no. Oh no." They were going to find me, whatever reinforcements he called for must be homing in on that flare.

    "Dusk!" We had to go right now. "Dusk! Come on!" I had no idea if the little guy would be able to track me down in a forest or not. My skills were only a fraction of William Carver''s so there might be something important missing.

    "Gonna kill you." A final arrow slid through flesh on my arm leaving a trail of pain. I dove out from behind the cover and swung the giant sword at my second attacker.

    Messages flashed about how the bandit successfully parried. They were annoying because I could already see that he held a smaller sword and had deflected the bulk of my swing. His face showed strain across the scarred features.

    The blade swung a second time and the bandit attacked me back. Parrying wasn''t a skill I was familiar with so the his attack shaved off another chunk of my life. My great sword spun as if dancing to catch the bandit on his open side. Dark metal lodged deeply into his side and he froze with a gasp of air.

    His eyes lost focus. Words passed across his lips but they were inaudible over the ringing in my ears.

    "Dusk?!" I had to get him. We had to get out of here. A hunting horn let loose with one long blast in the distance.

    My [Messenger''s Pet] was making hurt noises from the ground. I grabbed him and took off running towards my quest marker. There was no time to take a slow stroll. A minute later and the horn sounded again, I kept up my panicked dash. The stamina bar I set up as Carver was fading quickly and citing penalties from my taste tester event.

    Feet didn''t stop blazing a path through the trees until my bar was near zero. I ground to a slow walk trying to catch my breath.

    "Are we safe?" Dusk had been trying to clean a wound he received from one of the arrows. His wing had a slight tear. I had nothing to help out. No bandages. No magical cure spells or compounds. The other four players I worked during the [Maze of Midnight] made me look like a complete amateur. Who had killed two people.

    "Voices, Dusk, I killed someone." It was just a game. This whole thing wasn''t real. All of it was just code and science being beamed into my brain.

    Then why did I fight to keep Dusk safe? Why not just let him die? Voices, I had no clue what would happen if he did die. There were too many questions and not enough answers. James. James had information.

    I listened carefully for sounds of pursuit. There was nothing obvious enough for a layman like myself to pick up. Not that anything shy of shouting and crashing would stand out in these woods. Just to be sure I put another mile between myself and where those bandits had been.

    Dusk at least looked a bit better. The wound on his arm had clotted. My own health was very slowly recovering despite some bleed de-buffs. I sat down and shoved one of the new player bundles of food into my mouth and was pleased to see it helped some. The game mechanics weren''t completely against me despite the realism of these surroundings. Mentally I ran through the list of things I needed to know now.

    "Dusk, do you know what happens if you run out of health?" I risked asking the small dragon first. He might save me a prodding question from James. Not that hiding things from James was my goal, but my mood was extra shaky.

    My [Messenger¡¯s Pet] shook his head back and forth in a negative.

    "Shit." I squeezed my eyes shut. Logging out now was probably possible but this had to be sorted out.

    I called up my inventory. Aside from my beginners gear, [Morrigu''s Gift], the scroll case, there was also a quill and paper for writing. Hastily I scribbled out my questions about Dusk. The same heating sensation as earlier came down. James had written out a reply.

    "Are you okay?" James¡¯ voice came through as I read the words. There was a follow up as well. "Will you continue with your mission, Hermes?"

    I responded with a no, most certainly not. My mind was running a million miles a minute replaying what had happened. One part spent time justifying the murder with all sot of defenses. The other kept showing the look on either bandit¡¯s face. Surprise, confusion, hurt, all caused by me. To the other question I replied yes, once my own inquiries were answered.

    The poorly scrawled message went back into the tube. I had to screw down the top as if sending items through an old fashioned banking drive through. There was no rush of air suctioning the item up, just a freeze that crawled across the tube and vanished moments later. So, incoming messages were hot. Outgoing, were cold.

    I waited.

    Nothing happened with the tube. No messages, no hot or cold. No pop up boxes displaying a ¡®Please wait while we service your call¡¯. I pulled the cap off my message container and looked inside. No response had been issued forth. They were probably arguing among themselves again for whatever reason.

    Dusk lifted his head up and looked into the distance. One ear twitched. I turned to follow his gaze.

    ¡°What do you hear?¡±

    Both eyes swiveled around and Dusk opened his mouth in a tiny hiss.

    ¡°Did they find us?¡± My ears weren¡¯t picking up anything. Maybe there was a skill that would help me later on, but this was only day two of playing a character. I was dirty, run down, and mentally stressing out. I had been lucky that my acting ability worked.

    I stood up, the small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] bounded up my side and sat on my shoulder. His head still locked on the distance. He hissed again and traveled behind my head.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± My stamina bar was mostly recovered. I started off and was almost instantly greeted by a horn sound, this time from much closer.

    ¡°Oh no. Oh no.¡± They surrounded us. There were more of them. Or something else that was setting off my tiny friend. My feet started covering ground as fast as possible, still aiming for that quest marker in the distance.

    ¡°Over here!¡± A deep voice yelled. I ducked behind the nearest tree and kept moving. This time a bolt of electricity zipped by and splashed into a tall plant, leaving charred remains behind.

    ¡°Dusk, find me a path!¡± The little dragon leapt off my shoulder. His sharp claws made me wince as I concentrated on running away.

    Another bolt of lightning winged me, sending a jarring shock through my body. My leg jerked and foot failed to find purchase correctly. I righted myself using my past experience of slipping up while dancing. There was an art to getting back up quickly. I just never applied it to being nicked by low voltage lightning before.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was back in its cane form which was mostly useless right now. I shoved it into my belt and kept right on covering ground.

    Dusk chirped for my attention from the side. He found a cave of some sort. I wasted no time asking questions and ducked in after him. If that was my way out, so be it. Despite the little creature¡¯s constant desire to tear stuff up, he was helpful. The first step was a doozey, and I tumbled end over end down a long, steep passageway.

    My surroundings were dark aside from some system messages.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Combat has ended! The log out option is now available.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">The Shallow End</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Average (Timed)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Welcome to the Dungeon [Grand World Crossroads (Lerter Region)]. The entrance used is impossible to get back out of with your skills. You will need to traverse this Dungeon to one of the other exits within two days to achieve your other goal.

    The Voices are watching. (Get to work, Grunt! ¨C Commander Bloom)

    Warning! Logging out will result in Automatic Autopilot activation.

    Warning! Autopilot synchronization low, results will be poor.

    Warning! Total estimated walking distance towards required exit will take two days.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°This is your idea of an escape, Dusk?¡± My eyebrow went towards where I believed the little guy to be. He was busy chirping to himself in the darkness with only the occasional glint of light off the rare golden scales on his chest. This would be a bit of a journey. First thing¡¯s first, I needed to get more coffee. One finger pressed the log off button.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Twenty Two â€“ Deep Cover

    <cite></cite>Coffee made me feel great until I logged back in. Then it occurred to me that Dusk had gotten us trapped in complete darkness with no way to go back out the entrance. Dusk could apparently see fine. He kept doing his weird half bird half cat chirp at me. I followed him for at least an hour trying to do, well, anything, aside from bash parts of my body into rocks and other outcroppings. Or think about what had happened to those men in the woods.

    ¡°Are you sure this is the right way?¡±

    Trills and chirps issued forth from Dusk. He seemed to be in far better condition than he had been. Even I felt marginally better now that lightning bolts weren''t flying by my head.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t there a torch or something, somewhere.¡± The walls around me felt smooth enough. If I were to guess, they were constructions of some sort. This didn¡¯t feel round enough to be a natural cave.

    Dusk made more noise further up.

    ¡°So that¡¯s a no on the torch. Can you do a little fire ball thing?¡± Did his moves have names at all? Perhaps, perhaps not. I wasn¡¯t about to scream ¡®Dusk, use flamethrower now!¡¯ just to see.

    My complaints of ¡®How much further is it¡¯, ¡®I¡¯m hungry¡¯, and ¡®My feet hurt¡¯ were ignored. Endless statements escaped me, and the response was always the same distant and impatient series of noises. The one time I tried to stop Dusk had bit at my heels rapidly.

    Hopefully this was Dusk and not some weird subterranean noise maker, that, had eaten, Dusk or something. I don¡¯t know. This game was largely new to me still. We were in a dungeon. Chances that sunshine and lollipops littered the floors nearby was pretty slim.

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    After roughly two hours of wandering through carved tunnels and following Dusk, it occurred to me that I did have a torch of sorts. Part of me felt ashamed for taking this long. My tattered cloak was pulled out of hammer space and wrapped around [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. The thing had stood up to a dragon. It had to be heat resistant. There were still a lot of mysteries with the weapon due to a low [Identification] skill.

    ¡°Dusk, can you light this up?¡± I waved the tiny bundle of rags near him. Hopefully near him anyway. A ball of fire blasted towards me while completely bypassing my attempt at a makeshift torch. My face took the brunt of the fire. Burning hair filled the air as Dusk¡¯s attack faded. Both eyes had bright spots burned into them.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Stood in Fire

    Total health loss: 35%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Come on.¡± I coughed. That was piled on the leftover damage from my fall down the tunnel entrance. ¡°At the torch, so I can see.¡±

    Another blast whipped towards my face. This time I dodged by falling down in panic. My hand slapped against the ground and [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] clanked against the wall.

    ¡°Are you not going to help me see?¡± I quickly grabbed the poorly attempted torch and banged it on anything nearby. Whatever I hit sounded solid and thick. Too bad the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] wasn¡¯t one of the things bonked.

    Dusk chirped happily.

    ¡°Seriously?¡± My head tilted backwards. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] chirped again. Clearly that was him agreeing with my revelation. Carrying a torch was bad.

    ¡°Voices.¡± Reasons meandered through my brain. By the time I stood up and brushed myself off a few possibilities occurred to me. ¡°Is fire bad?¡±

    He chirped. Tiny skittering could be heard as he hustled towards me and started nipping at my heels again. This armor really should have come with socks. I shook the leg at Dusk and kept grumbling. Fire would only be bad if he was trying to teach me something, or, if something out there would try to eat our faces.

    ¡°Fine. No light.¡± Having a timed quest meant certain sacrifices must be made.

    We fumbled down the tunnel a bit longer before I started to really twitch. There were probably a dozen spiders around me right now. They must be waiting just a few feet away with clacking mandibles and hairy arms.

    ¡°Dusk. I don¡¯t know how much longer I can do this.¡± Being in the dark would have been fine back in my home. Though part of me had to work at remembering this was just a game. Feeling the carved rock around me while hearing the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] making noise kept me immersed. His constant huffing blending in well with the eerily silent surroundings.

    Water dripped nearby making me twist and turn in panic. Dusk nipped at my heels again to get me going.

    ¡°Just a game. This is just a game.¡± I muttered.

    More steady drips slowly gave way to a rushing sound. The noise seemed oppressive compared to the silence of everything else. In the distance there seemed to be a light of some sort growing in intensity. My heart sped up in hopes that this might be an exit already.

    In any horror game, this would be where the jump scenes happened. I frequently flipped around due to some noise in fear that a giant creature would leap out of the darkness to eat my face. So far it had been strangely peaceful.

    We approached the bit of light and things were better. Dusk was now visible nosing around, sniffing at a trail of some sort. That was one fear resolved. I had been partially worried that Dusk was some evil creature leading me further into the depths of a cavernous nightmare. That fear brought me full scale to my dislike of spiders and worry about being eaten.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± I leaned my head down towards the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] and whispered.

    The light was coming from water that rushed through this cavern. I could see a carved bridge that spanned across the underground river. Portions of it were knocked out and decaying. There were footprints that had to be at least a few days old judging by the dust piles.

    I leaned over and looked into the clear water. Fish were fluttering around below but they seemed mostly harmless. There were no creatures with exaggerated jaws just waiting for stupid players like me to get too close. The light was coming from some moss that clung to the bottom and illuminated everything.

    All in all, this dungeon was a quite disappointment.

    Dusk had crawled on top of one of the bridge rails. They were at least a foot wide and came up to my chest. He locked his gaze on one of the fish in the water. I could almost see the thought bubble appear over his head as he contemplated diving for one of them.

    ¡°Wait a minute.¡± I paused. I could, actually see a little thought bubble. That wasn¡¯t me imagining anything.

    ¡°Dusk, leave the fish alone.¡± His head snapped in my direction as the cloud like bubble faded away. Dusk had twisted his neck far enough to turn his dragon features upside down.

    He huffed and his eyes caught one of the swimming creatures again. I stared for another moment and could see the same sort of picture appearing. A bubble floated in an almost comical cloud above his head. Inside of it was the fish swimming along.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± He snarled and drew back a tiny cheek. I stared at him. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] might be able to nip at me and breathe fire, but I wasn¡¯t really afraid. Not after four weeks together. Unless the Voices turned me into a cupcake, maybe one of them was a magical baker or an equally weird category.

    ¡°Can you even swim?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Leave the fish alone, I¡¯m sure there¡¯ll be some gophers or something soon.¡±

    I sat down and checked all my vitals. The health bar had slowly recovered. There was nothing for mana yet. Something would show up if I ever learned some spells. Learning much magic seemed unlikely in an underground dungeon.

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, I heard something over this way.¡± A female voice whispered harshly. There was a familiar tone to it.

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding. This way is a dead end, the map says so.¡± The other voice was also female but far younger sounding.

    ¡°No, I heard something.¡± The older one said. Dusk seemed oblivious to our impending guests. I still had no clue what would happen if he died since James hadn¡¯t gotten back to me. Now was a bit late to be worried.

    ¡°You sure it¡¯s not The Ooze?¡± I could hear revulsion in her voice. There was a slight clink of armor as they came around the corner.

    ¡°Oh.¡± The older one said.

    ¡°That¡¯s not The Ooze.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s worse.¡± The woman looked familiar. Far too familiar. ¡°Hello, Grant.¡± I blinked suddenly and scanned her up and down. It was hard to tell who this was under the plate armor and huge shoulder pads. The piercing in her ear looked vaguely familiar.

    She used my real name though. Who did I know in real life that might respond to me in such a disgusted manner? One of my clients? According to Henry all of them thought I was wonderful. Oh.

    ¡°Hi Elane.¡± I scratched at my head and shuffled both feet. This was worse than meeting random strangers. The last time we spoke was after a very bad date that involved drinking and a broken chair. That had been almost a year after Xin passed, and mostly because my sister had set us up.

    ¡°Nice to see you, Grant, we¡¯ll be going now.¡± Elane started forward only to be held back by her much younger companion.

    ¡°Maybe he knows the way out, SheHulk.¡± The second woman was blonde and looked so hopeful she almost shone. Or she was just a lot cleaner than her companion.

    I raised an eyebrow at Elane. She was shorter than the average person, and a Spanish heritage shone through in her hair and skin tone. There was a bare hint of an accent that even the virtual world hadn¡¯t removed completely. The piercings on her face were in the same place in the game and real life. One on the eyebrow and ear, both on her left side.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s SheHulk, there something wrong with that name?¡± She stomped a foot in my direction and drew back her cheek with a snarl.

    ¡°Not at all.¡± A hasty response escaped me. The broken chair hadn¡¯t been my fault. That was all her, as a result of my one track rambling during the date. SheHulk was fitting once you got past her stature.

    Dusk was currently wiggling his backside and angling to jump into the water. A bubble above the [Messenger¡¯s Pet]¡¯s head painted a clear picture of his expected results. I looked over the edge, down at the water rushing through that those fish were having a hard time swimming against.

    ¡°None of that.¡± I grabbed at the little creature and he squeaked in alarm before trying to bite at my fingers. At least he hadn¡¯t been paying attention or catching him would have been impossible.

    ¡°What is that?¡± The youngest said. Concentrating on her figure triggered the [Identification] skill. Her name was TinkerHell. It almost fit, she was a waif compared to Elane. About her was a flowing robe of some sort that was bound at her waist.

    ¡°Dusk? He¡¯s a bundle of trouble.¡± I stroked his head to calm the tiny fellow down. Eventually we would make it to a town and pick up some snacks for him. Cupcakes did wonders.

    ¡°He¡¯s adorable!¡± The younger girl exclaimed and ran over. She had no problems invading my personal space once Elane had introduced us. ¡°What does he eat?¡±

    ¡°Cupcakes, mostly.¡± Dusk hissed at the small girl and she drew back with concern on her face. The tiny dragon reminded me a weird mix between a cockatiel and a ferret. Especially the way he squirmed and his wings fluttered.

    ¡°Hey, look at the water again, how fast is that going?¡± I held Dusk over the edge. ¡°You want to try to catch a fish and swim against the current?¡±

    ¡°Can I hold him?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s up to Dusk.¡± Players had tried in [Haven Valley] and normally it went poorly. Dusk was perfectly fine leading people but was not the lap type of creature with others. I set the tiny dragon down to let him run around as he wanted. Holding a squirming creature was bad enough.

    Dusk ran off down the bridge and got a closer look at the swimming fish. TinkerHell squealed and ran after him. That left me standing fairly close to Elane who had approached while we talked.

    ¡°When did you start playing, Grant?¡± SheHulk, or Elane, actually looked like she was doing pretty good. She had been sort of plump during our brief period. Her face reflected ten or twenty pounds lost.

    Xin had been a rather thin woman. I frowned again, Elane had broken the chair because of my comparisons to Xin. What else could be done though? We may not have ever married, but I had known Xin since high school. My head shook and the entire thought process reset. She had passed on.

    ¡°Is he a baby dragon?¡± Elane asked. Her shoulder rolled and the arm clinked a little. A scowl crossed her features.

    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure.¡± I knew exactly what he was. Not that any of the details regarding that were made obvious.

    ¡°Tink, we got any more of that oil? I¡¯m going to need some once we set down for camp. Otherwise this stuff will be making too much noise again.¡±

    ¡°He looks upset.¡± Dusk had wiggled free and was climbing up on my back and hissing again.

    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s that guy mad at?¡± Elane nodded in my direction. ¡°Does he track monsters?¡±

    I shrugged and tried to rub Dusk on the head. He shied away from my hand and dodged to the other shoulder. Another hiss escaped his mouth. The corner of each cheek was tucked in from worry. TinkerHell looked at the cave entrance and tilted her head.

    ¡°Is that Edward?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. He¡¯s too quiet for me to hear.¡± SheHulk readied her armor with a shoulder roll. A giant shield and mace appeared in either hand. ¡°Better safe than sorry.¡± The Spanish woman looked good in armor. She was lacking sunlight and a battle cry in order to complete the inspiring aura.

    ¡°Mmmh.¡± I was actually happy about meeting her down here. As awkward as our parting had been, it was nice to know that people from my past were doing well.

    ¡°Runnnn!! Run, we have to run, we have to run! Ladies!¡± A taller pasty white man came screaming out of the tunnel. His footsteps were silent but the panic in his voice was not.

    ¡°Why are you standing around?! Run!¡± He ran across the bridge.

    ¡°That way¡¯s a dead end!¡± TinkerHell cut him off.

    ¡°Then find another exit! This place is too bright, we can¡¯t hide, we¡¯re all going to die. Ladies, I don¡¯t like dying!¡± He was frantic and ran back to TinkerHell and SheHulk. Elane bashed him with her giant shield. Small stars appeared circling his head as he swayed.

    I bit my lips to prevent the laugh.

    ¡°Edward, calm your tits, what¡¯s chasing you and how long do we have?¡± SheHulk said.

    ¡°The Ooze! It¡¯s back there. It laid eyes upon my person.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have eyes.¡± Her hand went to one hip as she frowned at Edward.

    ¡°It, it, it whatevered me! The point is that that passageway is already filled.¡± Edward¡¯s eyes were huge and he grabbed TinkerHell by the shoulders and shook. ¡°We have mere minutes, ladies, before it comes this way.¡±

    TinkerHell lifted her staff and got Edward in the groin. I managed to contain the latest laugh. This was neat. Carver would have stared blankly or scowled, but I was me again, I could find humor in a situation and express it.

    ¡°Grant, you sure that¡¯s a dead end?¡±

    ¡°Pretty sure. I fell down a long tunnel.¡± Then a quest told me that climbing back up was impossible with my skills.

    ¡°A tunnel? No problem, I can climb!¡± Edward rushed over to me with a delighted look. ¡°How long was the fall? Ten feet? Twenty? We¡¯ve got to be close to the surface.¡±

    ¡°It was, a lot of feet.¡± I nodded and tried not to smile. They acted like impending doom was right around the corner. Maybe it was, but I had no clue what could be done about it. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] probably didn¡¯t come with an ¡®Ooze Bane'' title attached to it.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    This was a game after all. Maybe there was some secret to killing this creature. I could be Hermes, Messenger of the Voices, Destroyer of The Ooze. None of the other players seemed to share my mirth.

    ¡°What¡¯s this Ooze thing?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s like that movie creature from a few years ago.¡± SheHulk said. I had probably missed that movie. Movies weren¡¯t on my list of hobbies in that time frame. My shrug must have pissed Elane off.

    ¡°It¡¯s unkillable so far, and it destroys armor and weapons, plus a disease that lingers after you die." TinkerHell said while Elane rolled her eyes at me.

    ¡°That¡¯s not neat at all.¡± Maybe my niece knew a secret about it. She seemed to know a lot of random things about this world.

    ¡°We need an exit. Edward, think you can get up that tunnel and throw down a rope?¡± Dusk dodged down off of my shoulder while SheHulk and Edward talked. He seemed to be dressed similar to how Shadow was. Only he looked far more, I don¡¯t know, minstrel like. Maybe he had some sort of Bard Rank? Was there a Bard system? His voice did have a musical lilt to it.

    ¡°Maybe. I¡¯d have a hard time getting up myself.¡± His eyes flickered back and forth between his party members and the doorway. ¡°For you, I¡¯ll try.¡± Then he smiled and white teeth nearly blinded me.

    ¡°It¡¯s a long, long slope.¡± I grumbled. I had spent a good fifteen seconds rolling down and hitting things. Even now my health wasn¡¯t completely recovered. Not to mention Dusk blowing a ball of fire into my face.

    ¡°Really? So what, we¡¯re just stuck here?¡± TinkerHell groaned and both her shoulders sagged. She too had equipped weapons like SheHulk, there was a bladed staff in her hands that had jewels in it.

    ¡°Or.¡± Edward pointed a finger at the bridge.

    Dusk was ignoring us all. The image of fish had formed above his head once more. His butt wiggled back and forth, oblivious to our impending doom. Why he had gone from upset to battle mode so quickly was beyond me.

    A long sigh escaped me. The other three people stood between me and the [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. By the time I nudged Elane out of the way, Dusk had already gone for a swim. Moments later he was squawking in confused satisfaction. On one hand, he had managed to snag a fish almost instantly. On the other, Dusk was now being swept away by a raging current.

    ¡°After you, ladies.¡± Edward said with a quick bow. I put Carver¡¯s staff into player inventory and dove into the water. Being considered a lady for going before Edward didn¡¯t bother me. Dusk was more important than some silly timed quest and questions of survival. This was just a game, it was only a game. The mantra escaped me as current swept me down river and into questionable darkness.

    Dusk could be heard flopping around ahead of me. His cries, bird like, or maybe cat like, but completely belonging to his tiny dragon self, were mixed up in the rush of water. System messages flew up on my screen to one side telling me about skill increases for [Swimming] and [Breath Holding]. I waved them away while trying to tread the current.

    Rocks dipped into the river. My skills in real life were poor with swimming. The game world wasn¡¯t much better. I tried to mitigate the currents desire to smash me into everything.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Successfully Hit a Rock

    Total health loss: 40%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I cursed and tried to navigate the underground river again. Failure abounded as I rolled from one stalactite to another.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Continued Success at hitting rocks

    Total health loss: 50%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I got a mouthful of water trying to yell out for my companion. The latest message was smacked away by one hand trying to clear water from my eyes. These messages had to be coming from one of the Voices. There was no way a game would be programed to screw with me to this extent.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± There, I heard him squawk again. I had enough time to see the tiny creature hanging onto one of the rocks dipping down from the ceiling. Then we collided. During the scramble he managed to latch onto my shoulder.

    ¡°Hang on!¡± Dusk still had that stupid fish impaled on one of his claws. Its body weakly flapped against my ear. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] wrapped his tail around my neck. I choked back water and slammed into something again.

    The other three players were shouting something behind me. I couldn¡¯t hear them with water in my ears. More rocks connected and the river¡¯s flow tried to pull me under. We were swept along for a few minutes before the water fed out into a giant lake.

    The current carried us straight to shore. I pulled myself onto land while heaving my guts up. The other three players came in right behind me. SheHulk was being carried along by Edward and TinkerHell. She lay on her back groaning. Her heavy armor had not been kind during the trip.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± Edward asked. ¡°I don¡¯t recognize this part of the dungeon.¡± He was the first of us to recover. He had also just staggered to his feet to walk around while Elane just lay there panting in agony.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, this place isn¡¯t on my map.¡± TinkerHell shuddered violently. Her face looked blue and extremely cold. Even I felt the chill.

    ¡°You okay, Elane?¡± I asked.

    She raised one hand weakly and flipped me the bird.

    ¡°Okay. Okay. You¡¯re alright.¡± I nodded.

    ¡°Edward, can you scout?¡± TinkerHell sent the pale man off. He nodded and start stumbling away. I looked around. We seemed to be in some sort of basin for the underground river. There was another level up higher. Edward was partway up a smooth incline.

    I pulled myself up and tugged at Dusk. His eyes were closed and little mummers of noise escaped him. Gargling sounds came from deep within his throat and steam issued forth from his mouth. After a moment of my prying he looked around and chirped. He was clearly doing better than I. Hopefully soon, there would be a visible health bar for him that would let me better gauge his progress.

    ¡°Really, I mean, I hope you¡¯re proud of yourself.¡± I coughed up my own mouthful of water and phlegm. If this game had full pain sensors that little joy ride would have put me in a coma. The smile on the Dusk¡¯s face was answer enough. Failing that, above his head a pleased yellow smiley face was floating in one of those stupid thought bubbles.

    ¡°You little savage.¡± Dusk, who still had claws deeply embedded in the now still fish, set about happily eating his latest prize.

    My eyes rolled and I collapsed backwards in the same pose Elane had. The brief respite was interrupted quickly as Edward came cruising back down in a panic.

    ¡°Guys, up here, but be quiet.¡± Edward was whispering and gestured with both hands to stay low. A leftover groan from the Age of Carver escaped as I rolled to my feet. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] came out of my inventory. Holding it made me feel better.

    ¡°What is that?¡± TinkerHell whispered as we scaled the ramp upwards. Elane stayed on the beach to recover while Edward was ahead leading us.

    ¡°A cane?¡± I shrugged and crept further along Edward¡¯s trail. He reached near the top and gestured for us to stop. Something up there had a fire or other light source. The flames danced across the edge of Edward¡¯s face. He turned and pressed one finger over his lips.

    I tried not to roll my eyes. Edward wanted us to be quiet. This was the same man who had come screaming in a tizzy about ¡®The Ooze¡¯ just a few minutes ago. I wouldn¡¯t even be following these players except for my uselessness outside [Haven Valley]. Attempts at being quiet resulted in a pop up message about [Silent Step] skill demonstration. Demonstration alone wasn¡¯t enough. My feet missed a step near the top. Continue Online graced me with a message.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    General clumsiness noted, stealth skills too low to mitigate. Auditory failure to hide has attracted attention.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Edward went from careful to ashen and just screamed.

    ¡°Kill them before they kill us!¡± He leapt up over the edge.¡°AHHHHHHHHHH!¡± Edward had some metal on his hands that reflected light from over the ridge.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh Jesus.¡± TinkerHell stood up. She ran past using my head to propel herself further. ¡°SheHulk! He¡¯s doing it again!¡±

    As I rolled downhill a kind message displayed regarding my failure to hold the high ground. Elane groaned below us. Her armor clinked as the woman staggered to her feet. She was complaining about Edward while grunting. I stood up and tried to be sneakier on the way back up.

    "What!" SheHulk tried to yell but ended up coughing violently.

    "Gobblers, the orange ones!" TinkerHell leaned over the ledge and yelled down at Elane. "We''re doing a stack and smash!"

    Moments later she was focused on the attacking creatures. TinkerHell had taken position right at the ramp¡¯s top. She used the butt end of her staff to scribble into the dirt. A grim line sat on her face. I pulled myself to see the situation. Edward was fighting a mess of creatures.

    ¡°Voices.¡± That was not a fire. That was a glowing creature. A [Gobbler]? I tried to use [Identification] and barely got anything useful. They seemed to require a higher Rank of my skill.

    Edward swung his arms at people while announcing his successes.

    ¡°Back stab successful!¡± He shouted. Both eyes were wide and the mustache on his face quivered in excitement. ¡°Critical hit! Another!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a bigger idiot than you, Grant.¡± Elane stomped by me. Her hand shared a similar disregard for my ability to stand and shoved me back down the ramp as she passed. Another system message happily informed me of failure.

    ¡°Die fiend!¡± Edward¡¯s shout kept me company as I rolled downward again.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Victim of Gravity

    Total health loss: 55%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Dazed!

    Abilities requiring [Focus] suffer a 50% penalty

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Not this again. At least there wasn¡¯t a giant tentacle dragon ink thing, stuff, screaming over and over. One hand pinched my nose to stop both eyes from watering. I tried to stand up using Carver¡¯s cane. Only weeks of practice gripping it overcame the penalty. The daze wore off quickly.

    Upwards I went, again. At the top of the ramp¡¯s ridge I saw a mess. SheHulk was slamming her shield into monster faces. There was a grim happiness each time she got close enough to hit something with the huge piece of metal. The glow was almost the same as HotPants had been. Why did they seem so similar? Was it a side effect of being in a game world?

    ¡°Tink!¡± Elane yelled.

    ¡°Almost!¡± TinkerHell was busy scribbling out the last of a giant circle.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been hit!¡± He yelled. ¡°Hamstrung that one!¡± The damage didn¡¯t slow him down. He seemed to be going from creature to creature and slashing at their legs. The action was too fast for my mind to keep up correctly.

    ¡°God dammit, Edward!¡± Elane threw up a hand and a light spilled outward. I could see the health bar on Edward go up as whatever she did healed him. Was she a paladin? Or something similar? Sweat dripped down her face.

    I had no clue where to fit into this. This, this was madness. It was worse than my trip as William Carver. They had hours to figure out working together. I had ten minutes. Two of those involved a wild river ride.

    Okay. Okay. I could do this. Those creatures looked more like giant walking opal golem creatures. There, Edward was like a damn [Coo-Coo Rill] and just all over the place. SheHulk was getting swarmed on one side.

    ¡°Done! Five seconds!¡± Two circles started glowing. First, one under TinkerHell formed around her runes and lit up with an ice blue that started fogging the air. A second larger one appeared under all the damaged golems.

    ¡°Edward! Find cover!¡± SheHulk yelled while slamming back another one of the opal colored golems. It spun out of control backwards and crashed into others. They fell in a heap into the second larger circle. Their feet almost froze suddenly.

    ¡°Dodge!¡± His voice had an annoyingly musical lilt to it. He leapt over one of the creatures and across the way over the ramp¡¯s edge. Moments later he was sitting next to me with a wild grin on his face.

    ¡°Fancy meeting you here.¡± He said.

    ¡°Grant, down!¡± SheHulk yelled. I was staring at the circle under the golems. It grew brighter.

    ¡°Best do it, mate.¡± Edward smiled and wiped at his head with one hand. He nearly stabbed himself with the claw attached to his hand.

    SheHulk pulled in tight between her tower shield. Her feet were on the edge of the giant circle. Ice spikes started rapidly forming in center and swallowed up some of the creatures.

    ¡°Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you.¡± Edward hummed to himself.

    The pile of ice was huge. Glowing was visible from where the monsters had been swallowed up. There was a snap and one crack, followed by a second as the ice pile started to bulge.

    Oh.

    I finally realized why everyone was taking cover. Even TinkerHell was behind Elane. As the cold snap style spell shattered I pulled my head back behind the ledge.

    My eyes cast downward while hands went above my head in cover. Shards of ice and broken Gobbler thing went flying over our heads. Edward had a smile on his face. TinkerHell squeaked. Dusk, still down below on the lake¡¯s shore, jumped as a chunk of monster landed next to him.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] set about sniffing the dead monster in the aftermath of an explosion.

    ¡°Anything to clean up?¡± Edward shouted up the ramp.

    ¡°All clear.¡± TinkerHell whispered back. I peeked over the ridge again. It looked like an ice bomb had gone off. All the health bars of our, their, enemies had successfully reached zero.

    TinkerHell tapped on Elane¡¯s shoulder. The woman was a mess and looked beaten, exhausted, and pleased. Her teeth were gritted together.

    ¡°Camp?¡± TinkerHell asked. Elane nodded.

    ¡°Great. I need to step out for a bite.¡± Edward smiled and there was a loss of color to his face as the autopilot took over.

    ¡°Tink, you okay on watch?¡± Elane, SheHulk, whatever, asked. Knowing player¡¯s real life names was confusing me.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± TinkerHell was knocking off dust waving her hands at the air. She was probably getting rid of system messages. ¡°How about your boy toy?¡±

    ¡°Grant can go fuck himself for all I care.¡± Nice to know I was needed. Elane too lost color as she logged out. TinkerHell looked over at me. She smiled helplessly and gave a shrug.

    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­¡± Follow Elane''s suggestion I guess. I needed a restroom break and real food. Maybe they would be gone by the time I got back. Dusk could probably lead me to the exit just fine without the other players. Plus Elane seemed really strained when talking to me.

    I clicked the log out button, and let my session in Continue Online end for a little while.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Twenty Three â€“ Lost, in Earth

    <cite></cite>Being inside the ARC numbed most sensations from the physical body. My trip to the bathroom and the resulting relief told me that I had needed to go for quite some time. I fired up music and scarfed down some microwaved food. Ten minutes out here, forty inside the game.

    One day I would learn the science behind how the Continue Online provided a time compression. There were a few theories, but Trillium hadn¡¯t provided any public answers beyond ¡®Magic¡¯. I knew, from my excessive hours under their hulls, that a number of the parts read brain waves. Other pieces sent out sonar style pulses and other waves to muddle human senses. Maybe it was a hypnotic sensation?

    The preset alarm went off. It was time to shove such silly questions aside and step back into the digital world. I laid back and tried to catch a glimpse of the ¡®magic¡¯ happening. My mind fuzzed out before anything became apparent. I only wondered because of this silly timed quest. There were roughly two days to get through the dungeon. After that was one more day to hike to [Broken Mountain Pass] and retain my [Messenger of the Voices] title.

    And Dusk had led me into the depths of some strange Dungeon that I understood nothing of. Such thoughts kept me busy as I logged in, stepped through the Atrium and plopped back into my Continue Online avatar.

    Almost immediately I was assaulted.

    ¡°Grant! What in the good god damn is this?¡± SheHulk was shaking me with one hand, a thin parchment in her other. My vision blurred as I tried to focus.

    ¡°What?¡± I chattered.

    ¡°Your autopilot gave me a quest!¡± She shook the paper some more.

    I braced myself a bit better and tried to escape from her grip. Her character¡¯s [Brawn] had to be insanely high compared to mine. The rattling back and forth continued another ten seconds while one of the other players said something. TinkerHell probably. It was hard to hear as my ears rang.

    ¡°We all got one!¡± Elane said.

    ¡°Mine¡¯s an airplane!¡± Edward happily exclaimed and pointed towards the lake. A small piece of parchment was floating in the dark waters. ¡°The distance was terrible, can I have another?¡±

    ¡°Can I see?¡± I put out a hand to the shorter woman. She grumbled and shoved the paper into my hands. The paper¡¯s rough texture was familiar. Those edges, the ink style. This was one of the messages from up above. Had my autopilot fished these out of the tube?

    And what did it say?

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Help Hermes Haul Himself Here!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Average (Timed)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Hermes is on a mission, and part of this mission means making it to [Broken Mountain Pass]. He has roughly three days left to do so. Are you willing to assist Hermes through the dangers of [Grand World Crossroads (Lerter Region)]?

    Warning! Total estimated walking distance towards destination will take over fifty-two hours.

    Reward: Based upon assistance provided

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Crud. My mission to make it through the Dungeon had somehow been altered slightly and shared with the other people. Why did my autopilot trust them at all? Elane I only knew through my sister and two terrible dates. These other two were beyond me. Plus it said that traveling from where I was now, to my destination, was basically an impossible feat.

    A leftover Carver groan escaped me.

    ¡°Seriously, Grant? How did you do this? We¡¯re not even in a party!¡± Elane asked. She looked upset and I backed up a few steps. The broken table from our second date had been caused by her. She had swung it at my head and managed to hit the wall instead.

    ¡°Ummm¡­¡± The first rule of NPC club was to not talk about NPC club. ¡°It¡¯s a weird skill I picked up.¡±

    ¡°Anything to do with that fancy title on your character sheet?¡± Edward asked with an amused twitch of his mustache.

    ¡°Maybe?¡± I had no idea if the [Messenger of the Voices] title was on my sheet or not. Inspecting my name was secondary to looking at all the abilities and Ranks I picked up.

    ¡°Neat trick, mate. Let¡¯s have another.¡± Edward came over and jabbed me in the side with his elbow. ¡°You got a quest for guessing women¡¯s sizes? I can complete that one right now.¡±

    ¡°Seriously, Edward? What did I tell you about using that skill on me?¡± TinkerHell said. She held out her jeweled staff towards the man. His mustache twitched as he looked down his nose at it.

    ¡°I believe you said, don¡¯t peek, then threw some rocks at me, and told me I¡¯d wake up without my balls if I did it again. Then we had a fine afternoon¡­¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡± Tink cut off whatever Edward had planned on saying.

    ¡°Oh god, Tink, not you too.¡± Elane started rubbing her forehead in exasperation. ¡°I thought we made a rule about this.¡± The shield and mace were both put up so Elane didn¡¯t make the same brilliant mistake I had with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift].

    ¡°I was drunk.¡± Her defense was delivered with entirely too much cheer.

    ¡°I thought we made a rule about that too.¡± Elane said.

    Meanwhile, my mind was busy trying to calculate the odds of success on a complete bailout. Maybe this whole question could be avoided by hauling over the bridge to the left then up that tunnel.

    "Don''t even think about it, Grant. I''m sure Liz would be more than happy to provide me your address." Elane was probably right, they were friends from somewhere. That was how Liz had hooked me up with Elane in the first place.

    "I wasn''t going to do anything." I said.

    "I''ll bet not, you''re too chicken shit."

    "Really, Elane?" I took some offense at that. Being polite was not the same as being ''chicken shit'' by any definition.

    "Really? You know you still haven''t looked anyone in the eyes?" She retorted.

    Oh. There was no defense against that statement. Looking people in the face was kind of awkward for me. It had been for years. My therapist had pointed it out to me and even provided a suggested fix. Look at people, and simply answer one question. What color are their eyes?

    "Yeah. Still being a wounded puppy.¡± There was a series of items crashing to the ground. I could see Elane¡¯s shoulder guards being removed. The rest of her armor stayed on. ¡°I¡¯ll bet you can''t even tell me what color my eyes are.¡±

    My mouth had a hard time answering that one. My normal mantra of not thinking about my responses too much was failing.

    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s what I thought. Tink, we¡¯re done here." The armor vanished off of the ground, likely into Elane¡¯s player inventory.

    "Brown." I muttered.

    "Try again." She said.

    I shrugged. Her eyes had been brown during our few dates. The memory stuck with me after I mentioned it out loud. Why? Because brown was not the same color as Xin''s. My response irked the short Spanish woman.

    "I fucking hate you, Grant." Two terrible dates and Elane was a woman scorned. The whole attitude she seemed to carry, like I was the only person with problems, was starting to get to me.

    "We haven''t talked in over a year, Elane. Move on."

    "That''s rich, asking me to let go of things." Elane was up in my face with all the anger she could muster. I counted myself lucky that she hadn¡¯t pulled out a chair from player inventory to swing at me.

    "Excuse me, ladies." Edward spoke up. "Do we want to help with this quest? Or should we just go our separate ways?"

    "I want to keep watching. I bet they have makeup sex on a rock." TinkerHell said with a smirk. What was with women in this game? Was there something about the digital landscape that let them remove mental filters from the real world?

    "Disregarding your strange voyeuristic tendencies, I''m voting yes." Edward said while raising a finger in the air.

    "SheHulk?" Tinkerhell had a hand out on the shorter woman''s shoulder. I tried to remember my exercise questions, what color were TinkerHell¡¯s eyes? Her eyes were green, and her face was freckled. There was more to the woman than just clothing, more than the items in her hands. Not just a robe, not just a jeweled staff, but an entire person. One possessing a gutter mind.

    "Fine. We''ll try to get you out." She turned away. Short hair, Elane had short hair in the game. How had I missed that? Her head turned my direction briefly before looking at the other male in our party. "You can stand in the back. Edward, scout us a way out."

    "Right then, onward, upwards!" He practically skipped off across the way. I didn''t have time to see his eyes. That ponce style mustache was rather all consuming when I looked at him.

    There was finally time to look around now that SheHulk wasn''t busy demanding answers. Dead monster remains were scattered all over. What had once been bright cores giving off a fiery glow were now dimmed to nearly nothing. Glowing moss and embers from dead monsters provided a small amount of light to see by.

    This was a game right? I had seen nothing of loot or other such rewards. There was a pop up off to the side citing another [Cowardice] demonstration. That was an uncomfortable feeling. Maybe the system would change it to [Prudence] or something along those lines. William Carver would dive into combat, I still wasn''t there. My consolation was a box that cited an increase in the [Tumble] skill and [Stagger Resistance]. Both were probably tied to falling downhill twice without breaking my neck.

    Once again my preexisting experience with dancing in the ARC had helped. There had been no time to deliberately roll with that fall, so I must have done it automatically.

    "This way ladies!" Edward yelled and waved further around the lake¡¯s edge.

    ¡°After you, boss!¡± TinkerHell turned her lips up in a pixie like smile. I waited for the women to head off before whistling at Dusk, who was still playing down by the water and looking for more fish.

    He turned and looked at me, then the others marching off, and took flight. Soon Dusk was perched on my shoulder and watching everyone as we walked. We were headed back into a dark portion of the dungeon again. None of the others seem bothered by the situation. Did they have some method of seeing in the dark? They used no torches. The ambient light from the cavern before had faded off into nothing.

    ¡°So how did you do it, Professor?¡± TinkerHell had drifted towards the back with me. We were maybe twenty feet behind the angry footsteps of Elane.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a Professor.¡± I whispered back.

    ¡°No? SheHulk talks about you, said you¡­¡±

    ¡°Tink!¡±

    ¡°She! Hulk!¡± TinkerHell smiled. Her blonde locks were barely visible as we exited the light.

    ¡°Really, girl?¡±

    ¡°Would you believe she¡¯s my sponsor?¡± TinkerHell sounded like she was smiling still. It was difficult to tell as everything faded into darkness.

    We made it another ten minutes. My sheer fumbling in the darkness had caused SheHulk to hiss in annoyance more than once. I was trying desperately to use the wall as guidance. Dusk was doing his chirping thing ahead of me somewhere. It was pointless because of the noise Elane caused.

    ¡°Can you see?¡± TinkerHell risked whispering again.

    I shook my head and then started to speak.

    ¡°Holy Bat Balls!¡± TinkerHell wasn¡¯t trying to keep her volume low now. ¡°Wait. SheHulk! I need to get your boy toy a scroll.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± SheHulk said.

    ¡°He¡¯s totally blind.¡± The blonde sounded happy. There was a snapping of fingers in front of my face. I reached out and tried to shoo the hand away.

    ¡°You mean we¡¯ve been going this slow, because he¡¯s blind?¡± Elane responded. She was closer. Judging by her tone she was finding yet another reason to be angry with me. It reminded me far too much of HotPants aside from the differences in physical traits.

    ¡°Well you didn¡¯t really ask did you?¡±

    ¡°Ladies, we got another pack up around the corner.¡± During our conversation Sir Twisty Mustache had returned. He joined in our whispering right away.

    Something was shoved into my hand.

    ¡°Here, use this scroll.¡± The blonde said. Okay. That was not an easy order to follow. Scrolls were a mystery to me, along with most things magical.

    ¡°Hermes? You with us?¡± TinkerHell spoke again.

    ¡°He¡¯s gone daft.¡± Edward chimed in with an equal amount of happiness.

    ¡°Come on, Grant. You¡¯re holding us back.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never used a scroll.¡± Being with this party was destroying my happy place. They were constantly acting like I should know all sorts of things. Probably because they thought I had been playing for a while. Better clear that up quickly.

    ¡°Really, Mate?¡± Edward said from, somewhere.

    ¡°I¡¯ve only been playing for two weeks real time.¡± I said quietly. There was a round of confusion, half gasps, and a snicker.

    ¡°Really, Grant, really?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Elane. Is there a problem, Elane?¡± I snapped back. We weren¡¯t drinking, I was sort of recovered and no longer the same moping person she had experienced. My armor polishing skills were coming along nicely and my doctor had issued me a certificate saying I was no longer a danger to myself. Why should this stuff just slide by me?

    ¡°I¡¯ll kick you in your balls if you don¡¯t knock it off.¡±

    ¡°Girl, you sort of brought this on yourself.¡± TinkerHell stepped in. I heard Edward give a roguish imitation of ¡®you go girl¡¯ noises in the back ground.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even start.¡± Elane said.

    ¡°Look, I¡¯ll deal with Hermes, you go set up with Edward, and give us two minutes.¡± There was a rustle in the darkness as TinkerHell did, something. SheHulk was soon wandering down the hallway grumbling at me. Mustache had left too, I think.

    "Okay, crash course in scrolls. There''s two ways, one¡¯s reading, one¡¯s using an ignition symbol. Go ahead and unroll it, there should be a glow on the top right." TinkerHell was close by, near my shoulder if I were to guess based on her voice. It was a bit too near.

    The scroll unrolled easily. It was about six inches on each side. Sure enough, on the top right, a small symbol that looked similar to an S glowed a dancing orange. I really regretted not making it to that cave with Awesome Jr. and SweetPea. Carver would have been a bit too conspicuous huffing up the hill. Still, gaining that [Mana Sense] trait would have been worthwhile.

    "How?" I asked.

    "Thumb on the light, from your dominant hand, twist it counter-clockwise. The game will register your intent." There was a pause in her explanation. "Unless you can read Lithium?"

    "Lithium? Like the battery?" That was a weird name for language of magic. I put one finger on the symbol and had to think about which way counter clockwise was.

    I was assuming at this point. Admitting there were things I didn''t know bothered me. Especially after all my insider time as William Carver. Four weeks of being a man who knew everything had brain washed me.

    "Just like the battery. If we have time I¡¯ll explain more. For now, twist your thumb." She placed a hand on my arm and it made me jump. I took a few breaths, remembered my four count tempo and positioned my feet to start a dance. The habitual calming exercises worked and I turned my hand the right way.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Knowledge Gained!

    Information about [Lithium] has been added to your journal. Due to high [Wisdom] and prior insider knowledge you will receive a bonus to [Learning].

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Learning + 2

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help

    [Learning] represents the sum of information gathered within the world. It can influence the data recorded by your Journal. Learning will directly impact your ability to gain technical skills.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Light spilled from the first symbol to the second, then third. Soon an entire chain lit up on the paper with that dancing glow. It was like watching a series of dominoes fall down, only instead of dots or English letters, these were lined with shapes and runes. All of them squiggles that made no sense.

    "Almost now." TinkerHell said. Reflexively I started to turn towards her voice. "Focus on the paper." My eyes hastily righted themselves.

    The glowing letter chain reached the page¡¯s end. Each item connected to the next. All of them flashed at once like a light bulb giving one last gasp. Soon there was nothing on the page. I turned it around and looked at the back, the sides, and tried to understand. Soon the parchment itself crumbled completely.

    Odd. Now there was a visible mana bar. This one spell hadn¡¯t taken that much to cast, or whatever it was called when a player used the scroll.

    "How''s your vision?" TinkerHell asked. I turned and looked at her face, she wasn''t more than two feet away and smiling again. Green eyes.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Spell: Night vision activated! Increased perception in unlit areas

    Percentage of normal vision: 60%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Good.¡± I managed to get the word out even though my mind mostly blanked. My confusion came from having a woman close to me, voluntary, outside of work.

    ¡°You ready to go?¡±

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± For what? Oh. Right. The others were up ahead of us somewhere setting up.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have any clue how to work in a party?¡± She asked.

    My ideas were vague at best. Sure, I could sit in the back and let the other players do the work. The last party event my job had been to stay in the back until threatened. At that time, my body had been crippled by nearsightedness and simulated aches. What would the real Carver do? Charge and swing the blade!

    ¡°No. What should I do?¡± I asked a question of my own.

    ¡°What¡¯s your play style?¡± She was still smiling, still close. Both her hands were resting on the jeweled staff near her face. I stood with both hands on top of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift], which was currently in cane form.

    ¡°A trainer in town showed me how to swing a two handed blade.¡± I muttered.

    ¡°We can work with that. Is it a long sword?¡±

    ¡°More like an outrageous cartoon one.¡± Carver¡¯s blade was this giant thing that looked more like an elongated razor than any classic sword. Many such weapons had lined video games of my youth.

    ¡°Seriously? You¡¯re not compensating are you? Because SheHulk said¡­¡± My panicked expression was enough for her to stop the teasing. I scratched a cheek while she kept the smile up.

    ¡°It was a gift.¡±

    ¡°Can I see it?¡± I tried to ignore her double entendre. Everything was amazingly clear now compared to my prior situation. Dusk was hopping around on the ground and kicking pebbles with each leap.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] sat in my hand. My fingers grasped around its top, the same as they had during the Age of Carver. The polished feel of wood felt comforting. Still, my last use of this blade involved killing two very realistic constructs. Monsters, NPCs, game generated AIs, low IQ, still lifelike.

    ¡°Not used to it yet?¡± She asked.

    ¡°No. Not really. Is anyone?¡±

    ¡°Some adapt quicker than others, some grow to love it. My advice? Don¡¯t push yourself, if you can¡¯t handle it, go back to the cities and pick up a trade skill.¡± She had one hand out on my shoulder. Her fingers seemed so thin.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a game though. I shouldn¡¯t be afraid in here.¡± I muttered. There had been just enough time and shock to disassociate with Williams world view.

    ¡°Fear''s natural. It¡¯s what we do that counts. Sit back if you need to.¡± Her advice was good. None of it was new to me, but there¡¯s a vast difference between reading some words and living them.

    ¡°Tink!¡± Elane shouted. ¡°They spotted us!¡±

    ¡°On my way!¡± She was still looking at me with an unblinking gaze. That smile was too much. She was too nice, her and those deep green eyes. ¡°Hermes, do what you need to. No one has any right to think less of you. Not everyone is a fighter.¡±

    TinkerHell dashed off. Her robes fluttered as feet clicked along the ground. Dusk was caught up in the chase and followed her around the corner towards adventure.

    Her words sent my mind reeling. William was a fighter. I wanted to be. I should be. I was also the man who had given up twice on life. Had this unreasonable fear of life started with Xin¡¯s passing? The false happiness for customers? Working myself in a coma? Falling out contact with friends?

    Maybe.

    I was better now. There was a certificate in my house to prove it.

    Childhood had raised me on tales of heroism and televised greatness. Each moment in Continue was a chance to be my own hero. Sitting here tearing myself apart with questions of character was squandering those opportunities.

    Robert Frost¡¯s Poem about The Road Not Taken. Invidious. Roosevelt¡¯s speech of The Man in the Arena. Carver had been alive, even in those last moments he had been struggling to overcome the odds. Maybe diving in without thought was impossible. Maybe I would always hesitate. I was no William Carver. But I wanted to be.

    I wanted to be.

    Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both. Down one path lead the coward¡¯s route. Continue had presented me such feedback already. Alternately I could try to be like William. To be a man who would fight to live with every breath, even here in the digital world.

    Sounds of battle echoed down the cavern. Edward was giving his blow by blow and status updates. Screams of ¡®Critical Strike¡¯ and ¡®Dodge¡¯ accompanied Elane¡¯s resounding smash of metal against objects. Under it all was Tink¡¯s chanting.

    I stood up. One hand shook uncontrollably. In the other was a long blade that felt amazingly light. That hand did not shake. It sat there, calmly, sword digging into the ground much as Carver¡¯s Cane might. There was comforting warmth in the hilt.

    This time, if I swung this sword, it would be deliberate and as myself. With no vision impairment or confusion about whose skin I resided in. With no sleep deprivation and fear for my life.

    TinkerHell¡¯s chanting grew louder. Elane shouted something that was muffled and undefinable. Both my hands went to the blade¡¯s hilt as their noises filled the air.

    I ran, blade in hand, before hesitation could grip me. My feet pounded down the cave path announcing my arrival to the battle. Around the last corner were the three other Travelers. Their stances and layout similar to what I had seen before.

    The enemies were numerous. Many lay strewn about a large cavern. There were three exits aside from my entrance. Creatures came in from all directions.

    ¡°Grant! We¡¯re in a bad place!¡± Elane shouted as I ran past. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was held up high. I twirled past the shield tried to remember what Peg Hall had shown me.

    There were more of the opal golems. TinkerHell had called them [Gobbler]s. Monsters. These weren''t human and that made it immensely easier. Never mind their block carved heads and arms.

    "Epic dodge!" Edward happily commented.

    Two handed weapons required clearance. They required knowledge of how far away the enemy was. Years of dance helped me understand footwork. Paired practice helped me understand moving around other objects in tandem with myself. Momentum, speed, all of it clicked as I took distance from Edward¡¯s antics.

    And I swung.

    Health bars were ignored as creatures shattered about me. Elane and the others had really softened this latest batch up. I was just cleaving through chunks of enemy. I swung again. Edward¡¯s voice was high pitched and protesting. Elane was yelling. TinkerHell sent bolts of cold through the air with each shout of gibberish.

    This was me trying to strive valiantly. I would not be with those cold and timid souls. Another swing cleared out two more of the monsters. [Morrigu''s Gift] spun in my hand and came down abruptly upon one of the bisected remains. Making them into two pieces wasn''t enough to end their lives.

    "Another wave! These ones are tougher!"

    The other three simply adapted around my nonsense dancing. Most of my actions were around the edges. Only Edward was brave enough step into the inner circle.

    "Hah!" He declared. "Too slow!"

    "Line them up!" SheHulk yelled. "Grant! Push them towards the center!"

    I nodded. My brain was still on its rant while muscle memory carried me around. It was much the same as my night dances. Thought was there, but wasn''t. Thought without thought. Everything was on autopilot. [Morrigu''s Gift] hit another gobbler so hard that it crashed into two behind it. I kept spinning as rocks chipped my backside.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Blind Spot Hit. Damage Increase

    Total Health Lost: 60%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    For the last year I held myself still. Stuck to a routine and tried not to think too deeply about anything. As if keeping a pattern would hold me together. Anger, sadness, all of it twisted my life for years. Today, tonight, here in this game I would try to live again. This was me taking back control, one glorious swing at a time. I was choosing to fight and that made all the difference.

    Dusk was somewhere. He tore into small broken limbs of the glowing monsters. Fingers and hands were wrestled down. His squawks were background noise like TinkerHell''s chanting.

    "Twenty percent left!" The blonde happily informed us all. Edward and her seemed so happy. Only Elane seemed upset at all. Her hair was matted from sweat and her teeth ground together.

    "Are you having fun?" Edward was nearby taking a breather. He sat in a small spot I managed to carve out with the giant blade. How he snuck past all my maniacal swinging was beyond me.

    Both my hands stayed on the two handed weapon. I didn''t trust myself to speak or act without a firm grip.

    "Well, if humming is an answer, then I''d say yes. Good lad. Let¡¯s clear some more." Edward drew in close as more of the orange glowing creatures came in. The name [Gobbler] felt wrong somehow.

    "What is he humming?" One of the women asked.

    "I can''t tell." Edward leapt back out and drew his claws across the hind quarters of another two [Gobbler]s. One of them clipped his head in passing and the roguish man faltered for a moment. His foot slipped and he managed get a hand down on the ground.

    I swung [Morrigu''s gift] at the heads of those monsters around him. The blade was strong enough to cut into the first one and sent a sliced head into a second. They jangled around for a moment before toppling. Edward didn''t have time to give thanks, he kept on going.

    "What the hell are you humming, Grant!" Elane shouted. Her shield looked worn down. The shine was nearly gone and what had once been a clearly etched sun seemed to be bent out of proportion.

    "Grant!" She yelled again.

    "Clear the middle!" TinkerHell spoke right over Elane.

    "As you say, ladies!" Edward ran by and grabbed my wildly swinging self by the shoulder. His momentum caused us to tumble towards the left wall. I scrambled to stand up but failed.

    One large blast surged through the room. Air dipped in temperature and chill shot across my face. Rocks grew permafrost. Edward lost his smile and gave one single irritated twitch of his mustache. The wave of cold swung into the far wall leaving a nearly solid ring of blue.

    It shook me out of the moment. My dance tunes fell from my head and everything narrowed to the aftermath.

    Statues stood in the room, rigid and lifeless. Health bars displayed above their heads as either gone or nearly empty. Elane peeked out from behind her shield and grumbled some more. Soon she was stepping forward, still tired looking, still ragged with sweat even in this cold. With each footfall the tower shield in her hands bashed against a frozen enemy.

    Edward was up and looking around. He picked over fallen monsters and portions of their bodies disappeared. Soon the room was strangely free of enemies.

    "We clear?" TinkerHell had managed to barely hold onto her smile.

    "Think so." Elane said. "Edward? How''s it look?"

    "Like pure gold."

    "Count it up. Make sure Grant gets a share." She waved one hand in my direction.

    "Yeah. Good job, Hermes." TinkerHell said. She fell to the ground and just laid there.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Acknowledgement received

    Respect +3

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    At the end, pieces of monsters and rubble lay around us. TinkerHell lay collapsed on the floor and SheHulk was grumbling while bandaging wounds. Edward cheerfully announced all the skill increases he received. I myself felt conflicted with both exhaustion and elation.

    "What the heck were you humming?" Elane asked again. Her cleanup was complete. One arm hung over the shield as she recovered from the battle.

    "I don¡¯t know.¡± Something catchy. Something filled with bangs and explosions. It was probably a symphony from ages ago. The beat helped me move, helped me zone out just a little from the violence.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Notice!

    The Voices have shown interest in your increased desire to perform and will update their opinion of you.

    If only you had performed this well on your Trials. - James

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention!

    You have successfully fought creatures above your Path Rank! Combat Results favorable. Character profile being updated!

    +3 Brawn

    +4 Coordination

    +2 Reaction

    +1 Limberness

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Notice!

    Skill Merger Demonstrated. Skills merged: [Dance], [Dance (Paired, Ballroom Step)], [Weapon Focus (Bladed, Large Two Handed)],

    Results: Rank One Blade Dancer Path Unlocked!

    Path Complexity: Medium

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Rank One Unlock ¨C

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Increased ability to handle large weapons</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Added damage when a song is playing</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Added damage for each follower of a Dancer Path in combat</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Increased effectiveness to all skills involving [Dance] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Boxes hung off to the side of my screen. They were the only thing that separated this game from what was real. That was their function and I had utterly disregarded them during combat. Even now, there were so many pointless pieces of text being displayed. Skills went up, stats went up, but none really mattered. I flicked them away, even one about a [Battle Hum].

    What did that say about me? That I didn¡¯t care about all the system messages? This, game, wasn¡¯t about the game. It was about trying to make something of myself here in another world. One free of what I was in the past.

    This was my first deliberate step in a long, long time.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Twenty Four â€“ Lightâ€™s End

    <cite></cite>We managed to spend the next few hours winding through tunnels before reaching a place that TinkerHell knew. During that time, I learned that all three had been playing this game since near release. Which is why they seemed so comfortable handling anything coming our way. TinkerHell made us stop and rest up while we discussed the best course of action.

    ¡°How much further?¡± SheHulk asked.

    ¡°Too far. We need to go through the town.¡± The blonde shook her head slowly.

    I was just happy with being able to see. Joining them in combat was getting a little bit easier too. Nothing, so far, involved more than a pack or two of the monsters at one time. Progress was being made. There was something amazingly cathartic about hitting stuff with a giant sword. The woman I had met in [Haven Valley], HotPants, had the right idea with regards to that. Edward took it to a whole new level with his constant stream of skill announcements.

    ¡°The town is a death trap. You know it, I know it, even with Grant we¡¯ll never make it.¡± SheHulk said.

    ¡°Ladies, it¡¯s there or failure.¡± Edward was pressed against one of the passageways that led out of this cavern.

    ¡°The town?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Gobbler town. They all come from a central point in this wing of the dungeon. It should be along this tunnel.¡± TinkerHell waved the staff at the left most exit. ¡°We go through, skirt the edges and get to the right path.¡±

    ¡°Straight on til morning.¡± Edward sounds happy. ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to die.¡± SheHulk grumps. She had been taking off pieces of armor and rubbing some liquid on them. The items seemed to be in better shape afterward. Did armor repair come in potion form? My poor cloak could use some magical healing.

    ¡°I¡¯m all for it. Edward¡¯s for it, what¡¯s your vote SheHulk?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just here to protect you, so if you want to go, I¡¯ll go.¡± She said. Elane¡¯s face twisted up a little bit while she spoke. Something about the line bothered her.

    My mind was only half paying attention. I was still hopeful for the future. Maybe the Voices would let me get to a city soon. This destination of ours, [Broken Mountain Pass] hopefully would have people. Trainers, anything that let me work for a few more useful skills. This Blade Dancer Path was kind of neat. I had been trying to activate the skills during our last few fights. Continue had shown me a class, or whatever, that was very much up my alley.

    ¡°Your call, Hermes,¡± TinkerHell said.

    Crud. Today, as loosely defined in reality, was shaping up to be a long day. In the real world, there were roughly ten hours left to reach the pass. Game time equated to a day and eight hours. There was no way to do this without running a risk.

    Plus, what would happen if I lost the title? My choices, according to TinkerHell¡¯s explanation, were to fail, or risk it and maybe succeed, maybe fail. I wouldn¡¯t bother asking the Voices above any questions until they answered my other one. Dusk¡¯s survival was still a questionable factor.

    ¡°I¡¯m on a time limit, so I don¡¯t have a choice.¡± I paused. ¡°Only, if I die, can you guys make sure Dusk gets out okay?¡±

    Dusk gave an inquisitive chirp of noise from my shoulder. He paced for a moment, tiny claws digging through the uncovered spots of the starter armor. My fingers reached up to rub the little guy¡¯s head and try to calm him down. He nipped at one finger but gave in.

    ¡°Is the tiny devil not bound?¡± Edward asked.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m still not sure what will happen.¡± And that kind of pissed me off. James, my personal Voice, should have provided some sort of answer by now. The fact that he hadn''t made me worried.

    ¡°Pets should have a summon spell of some sort. Doesn¡¯t yours come with that?¡± TinkerHell said.

    ¡°No. Dusk isn¡¯t a pet, he¡¯s a companion,¡± I said.

    ¡°Ohhhhhh.¡± The blonde smiled. ¡°That¡¯s cool! I¡¯ve never met anyone with a companion before.¡±

    ¡°Nor have many others. They¡¯re rare.¡± Edward said with a shrug. He seemed more interested in our conversation than the hallway he was guarding.

    ¡°Please, just try to keep him alive for me, if things go south,¡± the [Messenger''s Pet] was distracted by the head rub. Only a cupcake would break him away from the moment.

    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s go, we¡¯re wasting game time.¡± Elane said. She rolled one shoulder and got the shield and mace ready to go. TinkerHell and Edward marched off fairly quickly with me taking up the rear. They decided that even though I carried a big sword, I was still too much of a newbie to front line anything.

    Honestly, they seemed more comfortable with their own group tactics. Inserting me into them was difficult. That or I was being subjected to the role of Carver once again. My back must have an ''Escort me I''m clueless'' sign on it.

    "It''s about an hour¡¯s walk down this tunnel. My map has a few turns but nothing too difficult." TinkerHell was saying from up front. "We should be able to get your boy toy to the other end in time."

    "She''s calling you a toy, mate." Edward fell back a bit to talk to me.

    "I''ve been called worse." Being an accountant all those years ago had subjected me to some rather creative names by angry rich people.

    "You and SheHulk then?"

    "No. We never did." I answered Edwards question.

    "Good, I wouldn''t want to, you know, step on any toes."

    SheHulk, or Elane, was grumbling in front of us. She could probably hear Edward talking about his intentions. At least the man was vaguely subtle in his wording. Declaring that he was out to ''hit that'' would be disastrously funny.

    "That''s between you two. Elane and I gave it a try and failed."

    "We didn''t fail, Grant, you killed any attempt we might have had by rambling about your dead ex." SheHulk said. The gap between our party members had grown smaller as we walked.

    Both my eyes clinched shut. A tempo crawled into my brain as attempts to keep calm were made. Elane was just stating the truth, rudely, that''s all. My brain tried to formulate angry retorts. Each one was interrupted by thoughts of foot placement and arms. Dancing was a complicated task, and sometimes amazingly simple.

    "That''s rude, SheHulk." TinkerHell said.

    "It''s still true."

    "She''s right." I admitted.

    "Still rude." TinkerHell responded.

    "No. I, uhh, I wasn''t much fun to be around back then. Life, you know?" Airing my dirty laundry to a bunch of strangers wasn''t new but this also wasn''t the setting for it. Beers at the local inn would be better. Wait. No. Drinking was a bad idea. The fact that the thought even crossed my mind was a sign of how far my recovery had yet to go.

    "No worries, mate, we''re all here because of life issues." Edward said with a twitch of his mustache.

    "I told you, Elane¡¯s my sponsor." Tink whispered.

    "I hope things are going well." My response was vague and noncommittal. There was no good response to such an open-ended admission. TinkerHell could be sponsored for any number of issues. If Elane was doing it, then the issue was probably anger management.

    "They are, Hermes." She responded.

    "Tink, your appointment''s today isn''t it?" SheHulk said suddenly talking over TinkerHell.

    "Oh. Oh yeah. You''re right. We''ve got time, I think." The blonde said while tilting her head. She also seemed skilled in avoiding self-harm with that giant staff. I probably would have smacked myself twice just trying to make my face resemble hers.

    "No, you better not be late this time."

    Now they were on a subject I knew too much about. Being sponsored meant she had some sort of problem. Making appointments meant she was trying to fix the situation. Missing those would make recovery harder.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mind if you have to leave.¡±

    ¡°No worries, Hermes, let¡¯s see what we can get done. We¡¯ve still got eleven hours to try and make it through before I have to go.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re all decided then, we cut near the town?¡± Edward asked. He was etching a small pattern into the wall to pass the time.

    ¡°God I hope the Gobbler Atlas isn¡¯t in.¡±

    ¡°It could be the Huck Twins, or that petrified oak.¡± Edward and TinkerHell were talking back and forth too quickly for me.

    ¡°Stupid. We don¡¯t have a second tank.¡±

    ¡°Or three healers.¡± Elane muttered.

    ¡°Simply say the word my dear ladies, I¡¯ll provide all the healing¡­¡± There was a smack of Elane¡¯s shield bashing into Edward. Stars once again formed above his character.

    ¡°What¡¯s his deal?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Which part?¡± Tink¡¯s head tilted in question which caused her hair to spill into a new position. Elane wore hers much shorter than the blonde in front of me.

    ¡°All of it?¡±

    ¡°The accent comes and goes because he¡¯s trying to be British, plus he hasn¡¯t managed to land SheHulk yet.¡± TinkerHell whispered. She was being much quieter while the other two walked down the cave pathway.

    ¡°Oh, hold on!¡± TinkerHell suddenly yelled over my next attempted question. The whole thought process was none of my business anyway.

    ¡°What?¡± I raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Ghost Mushrooms! Finally. I thought we¡¯d never find another batch.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± SheHulk seemed pleased. Edward was lost somewhere in the distance. ¡°Well this trip¡¯s not a total waste. Divvy them up. We¡¯ll watch your back.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    [Ghost Mushroom]s made no sense to me. Their value was an unknown as was the location. Part of me wondered what they might taste like. TinkerHell seemed to be fiddling around with air on the wall nearby. SheHulk and I stood on either end of the hallway.

    I hummed mindlessly and tapped one foot. There was just enough hallway room to shuffle down and maybe do part of a line dance. It wasn¡¯t the same without people around to clap. A tango was out. Swing would be a no go. The list went on and on.

    ¡°Grant, knock it off.¡± Elane snapped.

    ¡°No thanks.¡± I hummed happily. Dancing was what kept me going. Plus something about her was pissing me off. TinkerHell was at least friendly.

    ¡°It is kind of catchy.¡± TinkerHell said from her place along the wall. She was bent over looking down near the ground. I squinted and tried to see whatever it was that had caught her attention.

    ¡°Really, Grant?¡±

    I sighed then spread my arms helplessly. ¡°I don¡¯t see any ghost mushrooms.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t belong to any mage paths, so that¡¯s standard.¡± Elane turned back and glared down the hallway. At least she didn¡¯t outright accuse me of staring at TinkerHell¡¯s rear end.

    ¡°How do you know?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re too new, and if you had learned any magic, you wouldn¡¯t be blind down here.¡± Elane responded.

    ¡°I¡¯m blind down here because Dusk wouldn¡¯t light a torch for me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing he didn¡¯t. Fire is bad. The Ooze is attracted to heat.¡± Elane said. One of her feet was grinding into the dirt.

    ¡°And body heat?¡± I asked. Dusk had implied through his chirps that there was a reason but the explanation was unclear. At least some of his thoughts were coming through clearer with the thought bubbles being present. They were probably tied to the Rank two unlock for him being a companion.

    ¡°It¡¯s not enough. At least for standard players.¡±

    We made a bit more small talk but nothing important. TinkerHell seemed perfectly willing to chat about all sorts of things in exchange for information about Dusk and how I got him. Most of my answers were vague because explaining that my boss had awarded me an Ultimate Edition was awkward enough. Following that with information about the Voices and my interactions there would sound insane.

    I stuck to simple things. Dusk attacked everything his size zealously. He loved sweets. He did not respond well to Sniffles the Second. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was asleep and draped over one shoulder with his tiny tail latched around my neck.

    Completely out of the blue everything went haywire. There was a snap and my vision blurred sideways. Static crisscrossed my mind. Then the world went black. I tried to speak but couldn¡¯t. My mouth wasn¡¯t forming words correctly. The room spun. Room. Wait. That ceiling was familiar.

    ¡°Nnnnghhh.¡± I fumbled one hand above my head. There. Small raised numbers signaling a countdown timer. For some reason I had been ejected from the ARC device and brought back to the real world.

    ¡°Mister Legate.¡± A voice said from the doorway of my bedroom. ¡°Mister Legate, once you have regained complete awareness please let me know.¡±

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± I croaked.

    ¡°I understand if you are confused. There was a disconnect command issued from headquarters. If you have forgotten, I am your assigned Hal Pal unit.¡±

    ¡°Nnngh.¡± I felt sick to my stomach. Part of my body was numb. An arm was completely unresponsive. Everything ached. I had forgotten how bad forced separations from the ARC could be.

    ¡°Why. Why.¡± The questioning tone wasn¡¯t coming to my words.

    ¡°I have been advised there is an important message for you from Vice President Riley.¡±

    ¡°Why. Why?¡± There. That did it. Clearly the fourth time was a charm. My fingers were still tracking the countdown. One minute, no, two. Eight minutes in game.

    "Once you demonstrate significant coherence, a call will patch through." Hal Pal said.

    I rolled out of the ARC and stumbled to the backroom. Nausea swept through me with each step. The Vice President of Trillium wanted to speak to me? There was no reason for that. No way had I done anything...

    Oh. My brain was working now. Trillium owned Continue Online. William Carver had been one of the game¡¯s key players. Plus somehow I had gained a trait from the Voices. Either of those things was enough to warrant some attention. That was probably it.

    I scrubbed at the side of my face. A shave would be nice but there wasn''t enough time to fire up the equipment. One glass of water and a bite of energy bar went into my stomach rapidly. I paced, got some stretches in, and chewed quickly. Hal Pal hadn''t moved but he was watching every movement.

    "Are you optimal, Mister Legate?"

    "Close enough." Lights behind Hal Pal''s eyes bobbed in time with a nod. Equipment in my front room fired up.

    "Affirmative. Confirming readiness with Trillium AI." A logo for Trillium appeared on the wall. There was a slight bow to the projection. "Vice President available. Call projecting now."

    "Mister Legate." A female voice said. The woman on the screen was still vaguely fuzzy due to my recent ejection from the ARC.

    "Good," I paused for a moment and tried to remember the time. "day, Miss Riley."

    "You are being scheduled for an in person meeting at Trillium headquarters. Attendance is mandatory." Miss Riley said.

    "Okay. When is the meeting?" My mind sputtered and barely kept together. Only years of practice dealing with customer insanity saved me from a breakdown.

    "Tomorrow. A shuttle will be sent to your home. Clearance for the TRANS tunnels has been approved. Headquarters will be paying for the bill." Her face didn¡¯t change from its stone expression.

    Tomorrow. Okay, that wasn''t too bad. Headquarters was a few hours away even if I took the tunnel. It would also be my third time riding cross country using one. The last time had been when my fianc¨¦e passed. I tried not to let emotions cross my face. Now was not the time, nor the place to grow morose. Humming and tapping my foot would be equally unprofessional.

    "You are available, correct, Mister Legate?" Trillium¡¯s vice President was a woman I had only seen in company papers. Her face was plain, hair shoulder length, and expression very passive. Almost like this routine was beneath her.

    When a woman like Trillium¡¯s Vice President asked a question, men like me answered in affirmative. Especially since I enjoyed the perks of Trillium¡¯s equipment.

    "Yes."

    "Good. A reminder is being sent to your ARC. Forceful ejection will occur if you do not heed the alarm." She said.

    "I will."

    "I''ll expect you tomorrow, Mister Legate. Good day." The screen clicked off and left Trillium''s logo splashed across my wall. My foot started tapping immediately and a song sprang to mind. Right foot out, left foot back, move opposite the other dancers.

    Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes she had pulled me out of Continue Online with something that could have been done as a message. An Email or other reminder would suffice. Twenty minutes that could have been used completing this absurd quest from the Voices.

    A flash of insight hit me. There was a third possible reason Trillium might want to see me. I had hit a coworker rather hard. The Hal Pal units expressed their lack of evidence but maybe Jacob had filed something. Maybe they were going to fire me anyway.

    No. I was a good employee. Right?

    I went to the ARC and lay down. My fingers crossed with the hope that Elane hadn''t stabbed my autopilot. Once again I flew through the Atrium without pause and went straight back to Continue Online.

    A message was floating in front of me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You are Unconscious.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    What? My total log off time should have only been an hour in game. What exactly had happened during that time-frame to result in unconsciousness? Did we get ambushed? Was there a trap? Had my autopilot run into a wall in a cartoonish moment of panic?

    Being in a game and seeing this black screen was strange. My eyes struggled to open but at the same time there was a clear awareness. I heard muffled sounds. Someone was grunting and huffing. Elane, maybe? She seemed to be worn out.

    ¡°Psttt.¡± That was a male voice. ¡°Psssttt.¡±

    More words passed by and nothing made sense. I could feel the ARC simulate a jolt of pain to my midsection. Nothing smelled right.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Struggle to wake noted.

    You are regaining consciousness.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There was another box displaying messages regarding a [Focus] and [Tenacity] check of some sort. More messages floated up about them being mental and social traits. The text boxes seemed to go on about internal effort verses external recognition. Either way I was excited. A small sliver of vision appeared behind the messages.

    ¡°Mmmffh.¡± I said.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You are gagged.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Mmmffthh?¡± I tried again. Everything was blurry and shaped oddly. Parts of the location we were in was glowing an off color.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Was that wall blue? No. It was purple. Wait. Pink.

    Oh, neat.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Event!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Mushroom Madness</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Autopilot synchronization low. Default personality traits gathered from character creation Trials. Trial referenced: King''s Taste Tester.

    While away your autopilot was allowed a chance to test out new foods for poison! [Ghost Mushroom] are invisible to the naked eye, but not to your taste buds!

    Fortunately, no royalty suffered as a result of this particular food slipping by you. Shoveling an entire handful into your mouth wasn''t the wisest course of action. You are now suffering the following effects.

    High as a kite: [Coordination], [Focus] and [Reaction] skills suffer a 40% reduction in success. Or do they?

    Chromesthesia: Certain sounds will trigger color sensations. Shapes and sounds can also appear dependent upon the type of noise.

    Tied up: You were knocked out and tied up. Party safety and sanity have increased as a result.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Psssttt!¡± The whisper came again from one side. A zig zag of color traced across the bottom of my eyesight causing a panicked flinch. Only my distraction reading the system windows kept me from completely freaking out.

    Elane was carrying me along. My hands and feet were bound and mouth gagged. I tried to ask questions but each time my mouth muttered something the floor was splashed with a distortion of indigo.

    I tried to hold very still and not panic. This had been a long twenty four hours in the real world. Punching Jacob, killing my first humanoid computer program, and falling into a tunnel. Running into a sort of ex girlfriend, being set on a Grand Rapids swim through barely illuminated water. On top of that I was trying to be a bit less cowardly in the face of conflict.

    Tomorrow didn¡¯t look so hot either.

    ¡°MmMhph.¡± I rocked a bit. ¡°Mmhffph.¡± Oh neat. If I changed tone the ripple switched from blue splashes to a deep emerald. Maybe it was the drugs or newness of sensation, but I made noise and hummed in different tones just to see what colors came up.

    ¡°Hmm hummmhhp mmhhhh.¡± I tried to get the deep baseline at the end of Beethoven¡¯s piece.

    ¡°This way, we¡¯ve got to move.¡± Edward¡¯s words were an obtrusive green puke of color. It seemed to drip off his mustache and smeared through the air with each twitch of his cheek.

    ¡°Mmet.¡± And this whole situation was neat. Only my words were muffled.

    ¡°Your boy toy is awake.¡± TinkerHell said with a cheery wave. She was standing nearby. Elane pulled us along the floor some more. Part of her heavy armor was gone now, she was down to just the chest piece and some dress like thing that covered her legs.

    ¡°Fuck him.¡± Elane said.

    ¡°My dear lady.¡± Edward started. I heard the shield slam into the side of something and a series of ripples spilled across the air. I started giggling into the gag across my mouth.

    My body felt sluggish. Everything zoomed in and out with each noise. Distortions were rapidly becoming part of my trippy experience. I had never been high before but this game seemed to be doing wonders.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have enough time. Not nearly enough time, and what does he do?¡± Elane sounded angry, but her words were so pretty to look at. They spiraled through the air chasing each other like barking dogs made of orange paint.

    ¡°It¡¯s not his fault.¡±

    ¡°His autopilot is weird!¡± Elane completely ignored TinkerHell¡¯s attempt at defense.

    ¡°Ladies, keep it down.¡± Edward harshly chimed in. ¡°Sneaking, we¡¯re sneaking now.¡±

    ¡°You know Gobblers have bad hearing. I could roll Grant down into their town and they may not notice.¡±

    ¡°Be that as it may, we¡¯ll never make it with your bickering.¡± Edward was rubbing one of those claws on his hands against the stone wall again. Each scraping of metal against mineral sloughed off a layer of color.

    ¡°We could go faster by untying him.¡±

    ¡°Are you kidding? He ate his share of the ghost mushrooms! He¡¯ll be flying high for days.¡± Elane shot down that idea.

    I giggled. The game message still floated nearby. I had been trying to focus on it and remove the pop up but concentrating was difficult. Or was it?

    ¡°It¡¯s one way to pass time, though selling them would have been more valuable.¡± Edward responded.

    ¡°Well he¡¯s new, maybe Hermes didn¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Either way, we must be going. Untie the poor sod and we¡¯ll try to sprint.¡± Edward, what a charming rogue he was. Even I felt smitten, or maybe it was the drugs. [Ghost Mushroom]s seemed very effective at, whatever this was.

    My face went playfully serious and started nodding. Yes, being untied would be fantastic. The gag came off first. Immediate humming ensued. A country box step pattern came out of my mouth and it was light green, almost apply. This Chromesthesia was really doing a number on me. Along with whatever the general high effect was.

    ¡°Grant, this is your quest, try to focus.¡± Elane said. At least she hadn¡¯t hit me with the shield yet. Not that anyone had explained how my autopilot got tied up in the first place. Those bindings had been fairly good.

    ¡°Elane.¡± I frowned and bobbled my head. My hands were clasped across each wrist and rubbing where they had been bound. The sensation was marvelous.

    ¡°What, Grant?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re pretty when you¡¯re angry.¡± I said happily. That didn¡¯t come out right.

    ¡°What?¡± Elane said. Her anger at me seemed to falter due to confusion. Her brows ran together as her forehead scrunched.

    ¡°But your mustache has to go.¡± Was my happy commentary to Edward. He just twitched but there seemed to be a slight smile.

    ¡°The ladies approve.¡± He said.

    ¡°No they don¡¯t.¡± I shook my head and looked around. TinkerHell was laughing off to one side.

    ¡°Where are we going? Did we get to the town place, thing, place. Thing¡­¡± Oh god, my brain wasn¡¯t delivering the right messages! This felt wrong. I watched my own words spill out in pleasant dark greens and started tilting forward.

    ¡°Very batty.¡± Edward confirmed my mental status.

    I nodded more than anyone should and tried not to speak. We were high on a ridge. This seemed to be some sort of half formed, half carved walkway that went across a large underground cave. In the distance a bunch of colors were pulsing with soft, faint waves.

    ¡°What¡¯s that over there?¡± I pointed.

    ¡°What¡¯s what?¡±

    ¡°Where the color is.¡± Words were hard to formulate. Did the others see colors? That was a silly question, of course they saw colors! Dumb me. My head shook slowly.

    ¡°Does he mean the chanting?¡±

    I tilted my head and shut both eyes. Having them closed barely muted the mix up caused by a specialized version of Synesthesia. Yes, that was music of some sort. Almost like an abbey full of monks chanting in eras gone by. Their voices spun together with a hint of metal vibrations. As if a tuning fork could do a full song.

    ¡°You¡¯re humming again.¡± Elane grumbled.

    ¡°MMmh.¡± My own deep green noise was laced with veins of blue.

    ¡°Four hours, maybe five. If we run, maybe faster.¡± TinkerHell said.

    The others were almost around the corner before my feet actually moved. In a panic I turned and shuffled after them. Each footstep, each clank, sent another ripple of hues and color tones across my vision. We would stop to walk and then run again when everyone had energy. The [Light Body] skill hit another rank and a pop up box sent me stumbling. Not the box itself, but the noise caused as it came into being. Well, the window didn¡¯t help either.

    ¡°Ahhh!¡± I cried out and rolled into a wall. Sitting there was bad for me once shaking kicked in.

    ¡°My hand. It¡¯s.¡± Doing something. ¡°It won¡¯t stop.¡± Both eyes blinked repeatedly as clarity swam in and out.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got to go, Hermes.¡± TinkerHell was the closest to my position. Elane was up ahead and glaring. Edward kept on scouting.

    The world turned to purple static for a brief moment. My body bounced in the air as a second wave hit.

    ¡°My hand!¡± Now I was really tripping out.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not your hand, Grant!¡± Elane shouted. I saw a piece of armor come into existence and she slammed it into place. ¡°Edward! Tie this down!¡±

    ¡°Not what I was hoping for.¡±

    ¡°Tink!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on it, scroll wall incoming!¡± TinkerHell was shouting something. Her staff was cradled under one armpit and in her hands was a much larger scroll. It burned brightly as she twisted a thumb across the starter symbol.

    ¡°Hermes, try to stand!¡± The blonde said as glowing letters rippled across the parchment. ¡°We need you!¡±

    Wow. These people were panicking harder than I was. There was another thump of static inducing purple that made my heart jump. Both eyes kept trying to focus on a space just off to the side of my hands.

    ¡°Hermes! This way! Boobs!¡± Edward said. Voices help me, even the thought felt somewhat like betrayal, I looked. The man was smiling with that twitchy mustache.

    ¡°See, that always gets a man¡¯s attention.¡± Edward said.

    ¡°If I didn¡¯t need all my energy, I¡¯d whack you.¡± Elane responded. There was a grim look on the short Spanish woman¡¯s face. Her hand held onto the mace as Edward wove a strap under her arm.

    ¡°All the more reason for me to press my advantage when I can.¡± He said. The ground thumped again. ¡°Or perhaps later.¡± Edward didn¡¯t slow in his assistance with the armor. Two more pieces of gear went on and soon she was fully equipped again.

    ¡°Is someone knocking on the door?¡± I asked. That¡¯s not what was in my head, but it¡¯s what came out of my mouth. There was a serious disconnect between everything.

    A giant hand swung up on the ledge. Each finger was easily bigger than my entire body. Dirt tore at the edge as something pulled itself up further. A second hand almost overshot the ledge as it descended to latch on.

    ¡°That¡¯s neat.¡± I said. One eye squinted and tried to activate [Identification]. It failed. ¡°Identifyicus, maximus!¡± Verbal attempts at activating my skills also failed. Voices, I was high.

    A giant head swung into view. I¡¯m pretty sure that just one eyeball on that monster was bigger than my entire body. The creature looked like a giant baby made of dirt and insanity. Plus colors were all over the place. Each groan of terrain spawned another waterfall of lights and visual sounds.

    ¡°Barricobbler!¡± Elane shouted. Everyone always shouted during fights. Why was no one calm? My head swum around. Was that seriously the monster¡¯s name? How amazingly silly was that? This was a game after all. Or maybe my drug addled mind was making something up.

    I should be upset and scared. Instead more giggles came forth and soon turned into outright laughter.

    Ice, probably from TinkerHell, started in a long line across the pathway¡¯s edge. Moments later it had climbed up from floor to ceiling to form a solid wall. Barricobbler, if that was indeed its name, had both hands frozen inside of the sudden wall.

    ¡°Fly you fools!¡± Elane said. She gestured with her shield arm down the long hallway. Barricobbler gave a strange groan that was exactly how a giant baby rock monster should sound.

    ¡°That¡¯s my line! I¡¯m the caster!¡± TinkerHell was running anyway. One hand lifted her robe up so it wouldn¡¯t cause her to stumble. TinkerHell used her other hand to grab me as she passed by.

    ¡°Fly anyway!¡± She shouted and ran after us. Elane wasn¡¯t sacrificing herself like that.

    ¡°Patrol!¡± Edward shouted in front of us. Soon his standard fare of ¡®Critical Strike¡¯ and ¡®Dodge¡¯ and ¡®Hamstring¡¯ followed.

    ¡°Grant! You¡¯ve got to hold them!¡± Elane shouted.

    ¡°Wahh?¡± I fumbled around with screens and inventory buttons trying to figure out where [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] had gone.

    ¡°Hold, the, monsters!¡± Elane shouted. She was taking up position somewhere behind us. I could hear her grunting, shaking and talking to herself. The ice was cracking from where, Voices what a silly name, Barricobbler was breaking loose.

    ¡°Up here!¡± TinkerHell was already running towards Edward. I tried to run but there were too many colors, sounds, jarring my consciousness. Instead my footsteps became a half stumble, half walk, all failure.

    I basically walked the end of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into a [Gobbler]¡¯s belly. It just stared at me. A blast of ice from over my shoulder caught it square in the face.

    ¡°OoOooooo!¡± The giant baby yelled. The landscape rippled and my head throbbed.

    ¡°Block it, Hermes!¡±

    ¡°Ehhh.¡± [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was in the two handed blade form. I turned the flat of it towards the monster and held it like a terrible shield. Rock hands hammered on the weapon sending jolts up my arm. A month of clutching William Carver¡¯s cane kept me stable.

    ¡°Colors.¡± I muttered. [Gobbler] hammering was a mixture of green and orange. All loud, clunky. As if a giant ball of hardened clay was falling.

    ¡°Hamstring!¡±

    ¡°Block them!¡± TinkerHell said behind me. Her voice was getting faint. The staff in her hands drew more symbols upon the ground. During one of her rambles we had talked about how using a staff would consume less mana and increase the spell¡¯s impact.

    ¡°OoOOoohhh!¡± There was an insanely loud crash of noise and ice shattered across the room. One big, muddy fist pounded through the wall and smashed between Elane and us.

    ¡°SheHulk!¡± TinkerHell let another blast of ice fly by into one of the [Gobbler]s behind my shield. I was basically being a wall and failing. Two of the golems were pushing me back. These ones were green instead of the prior glowing orange color.

    ¡°Go, go, get into a hall!¡±

    ¡°OoOOraaahh!¡± The giant baby yelled.

    ¡°Let me help you with that one, mate.¡± Edward came up from my side and casually stabbed one of the [Gobbler]s in the face. Suddenly the pressure on the other end of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] slacked off.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Demonstrated:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[ Barricade]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Common</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Unranked</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This Traveler has taken steps towards standing between his enemies and his allies. Damage taken while performing a block action reduced. This skill relies on the Travelers¡¯ [Brawn] and [Endurance] to sustain.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Brawn + 1

    Endurance +1

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My mind wandered to the message box and stared. The numbers were hard to focus on. Ice flew about in chunks both from TinkerHell¡¯s constant stream of spells and the shattering remains of a great wall.

    ¡°Tink!¡± Elane yelled. I looked over my shoulder to see one of the giant clay arms grab her, armor and all. The monster dipped as Elane came off the ground. She must weigh half a ton in all that gear.

    "Hey! Focus the arm!"

    "Let go of me you filthy idiot!" Elane was banging away with her mace trying to do damage. Her short frame was nearly lost in the giant fingers.

    "But Gobblers." I said. Clearly some of us weren''t firing on all cylinders.

    "Grant! Cut its arm!"

    "Gobblers!" Heh. These guys were neat. Their attacks hurt a little, maybe like a dog nibbling on my arm. With big, meaty club like hands. Dog, nibble, hands.

    "Grant, you miserable pig fucker! Help!" Elane groaned as she was bashed around the hallway by the giant monster''s hand.

    "Mate, we''ve to get the arm!"

    "But..." I was too confused. Too drugged up by my autopilot eating [Ghost Mushroom]s.

    "Shit!" Elane yelled. "You fu..." I turned just in time to see the short Spanish woman go flying into the breeze. She yelled the entire way before a distant crash crawled across my senses.

    ¡°Elane!¡± My own words caused me to cringe as sound assaulted my vision. Everything was crossing and none of it was comfortable. The giant baby monster giggled with outright childish delight at the mess it had caused.

    ¡°She¡¯s dead, Hermes, we have to move onward!¡± TinkerHell let another spell fly away and managed to kill the final [Gobbler].

    ¡°She can¡¯t be dead.¡± The words came out dry. Elane had to be alive still. No. No, I had once again stood by and let it happen. It was Xin all over again. Elane was dead because of my failures.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s just a game! We¡¯ve got to move, now Hermes.¡± TinkerHell was yelling at me. "It''s okay. It''s okay, Hermes. We have to go!"

    I asked myself what kind of man had life made me. Now, in a few days within the game, my character still wasn''t entirely clear. My actions showed one thing, and my desires another. It would be a long road to recovery. Letting Elane go flying hadn''t helped my self-esteem. Being drugged didn''t help. There had to be ways I could do better. More stats, more abilities, something. This game could give me that if I tried harder. Gaining [Barricade] was only one step out of many.

    For now, we had to escape. We fled down the hall. Away from the Barricobbler and its giggles. Away from Elane and her distant grave. We ran.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Twenty Five - What are the Chances?

    Hours later and things were mostly quiet. TinkerHell tried to stay positive, but there was a loss of happiness to her expression. Nothing seemed as cheery, even the blonde color to her hair was lackluster. Edward hummed but acted a bit grumpier. The words ¡®it¡¯s just a game¡¯ repeated in my head frequently.

    We handled a few smaller packs, with me poorly taking the role that Elane had. Each time I stood between the few minor monsters and TinkerHell felt like a minor betrayal. I shouldn¡¯t have been drugged up, I should have been able to focus more. All that talk about being a better person and being brave, what had I done? Failed almost right out of the gate.

    Then TinkerHell uttered the announcement I had been dreading. She was on a time limit. Nothing had really been the same since my failure anyway. Those choices would haunt everything in this party.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to go, Hermes. I¡¯m sorry.¡± She said.

    ¡°Do you still have enough time to make your meeting?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll just recall back to my bind point. I should be okay from there.¡± TinkerHell gave a partial smile to soften the blow.

    ¡°Oh.¡± I managed to keep my face passive and pretend that there was no worry creeping in. The system even awarded me some acting skill points.

    ¡°Did you need a scroll of recall?¡± She was kind enough to ask. I was smart enough to figure out what TinkerHell meant by that. It was probably an in-game device that helped get out of the dungeon.

    ¡°I¡­no, I¡¯ve got to try and make it through.¡± Plus the Voices hadn¡¯t given me a bind point to my knowledge. ¡°Thank you for your help.¡±

    ¡°Down this tunnel, a few more hours and you should make it out. The map I provided made sense right?¡± TinkerHell asked.

    ¡°The man hardly need worry about getting lost. He should, instead, worry about being eaten.¡± Edward was smiling and seemed lax against one of the many cavern walls. This place was nowhere near as well carved as the side I had entered on. It felt more natural.

    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± TinkerHell¡¯s face scrunched up in worry. ¡°Well, it¡¯s all or nothing.¡±

    ¡°Too true.¡± The other man said.

    ¡°You seem like a nice guy, Hermes. Even if you¡¯re kind of drugged. You be careful.¡± TinkerHell said. Her words did still have a faint linger of color to them. The bombardment of Chromesthesia had mostly dissipated.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±

    ¡°Alright. If I log out now there may be just enough time for a shower.¡± TinkerHell shrugged.

    ¡°A radiant lady such as yourself could hardly be diminished by a mundane thing like dirt.¡± Edward said. TinkerHell managed to roll her eyes but looked a bit more naturally amused. Then she shrugged yet again.

    ¡°Sorry again, Hermes.¡± I shook my head at her apology. TinkerHell had actually been the nicest of the lot to me. ¡°Real life doesn¡¯t wait on hold, not even for Continue Online. Best of luck in your quest.¡± TinkerHell said. Her constant smile hadn¡¯t been the same since Elane¡¯s character passed. Not at the lips, not in her cheeks, but in the pinch around both eyes.

    ¡°Thank you. I¡¯m sorry my autopilot tried to force my problems on you all.¡± Voices knew I had enough of them.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. Just help someone else out, pass it on.¡± She shrugged. I liked TinkerHell, she seemed so upbeat most of the time, playful even. The longer we were together, the more it seemed like she was closer to SheHulk and I in age. She was certainly older than my niece. It just wasn¡¯t obvious from her in-game face.

    Or maybe the world had worn on her like it had on me. How old did I look to other people? I poked my belly. Edward interrupted my self-absorbed train of thought by clearing his throat. He waved one hand which also had a [Scroll of Recall].

    ¡°Whereas I, take another view.¡± Edward smiled with his twitchy mustache. ¡°The ladies are gone, and my interest wanes. So it¡¯s time to move on, adieu Hermes, and best of luck.¡±

    I sighed. The party had broken apart because of real life and the tank dying. Even in virtual reality the story was too familiar. Elane was out of the game for eight hours. I was closer to the exit, but still mostly lost. What now? Dusk chirped and hissed into the distance. Enemies were nearby and this was no place to dawdle. A small display timer to my screen outlined how little time was left on both my night vision buff and quest.

    Part of me longed for the quiet of Carver¡¯s bench. This adventure might just be the death of me.

    The problem with silence is that there was too much time for my own thoughts. The sounds and color mix up was still happening but nowhere near as vicious as it had been. Doing battle while having constant interruptions from all the rainbows colors had been difficult. Now, after almost a full day of hunting and associated stat increases, I could handle a few [Gobbler]s on my own.

    Groups of more than two were normally easy to go around or back up a tunnel twist or two. TinkerHell had given me a very detailed map showing a series of interconnecting tunnels between here and the exit. The end would be the really dangerous part.

    There wasn¡¯t much time to practice any other skills such as [Silent Step]. TinkerHell had let me know that [Gobbler]s were basically deaf up until about twenty feet away.

    That¡¯s how the next few hours in the game went. I dwelt on my poor performance with Elane. I hacked frantically at any single [Gobbler]s and steadily crept towards the exit tunnels. Short-cutting through the city had helped put the timer within reason. The estimated time towards my destination also went down each time [Light Body] went increased in ranks.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Light Body]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type</td>

    <td colspan="3">Advanced</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">5 (Beginner)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This skill results from other abilities and actions. When carrying under the specified weight you gain additional speed and limberness. Exceeding the specified weight will negative these benefits.

    Current limit:  40 lbs

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Each rank increased the percentages and bonus. My feet move faster and quicker. Not huge, or anything like what Beth had shown me during my very first experience with Continue Online. She had practically flown through the city.

    Still, I felt faster. According to my system text, I would be ahead of the deadline by roughly thirty minutes. Part of me suspected my autopilot had eaten the [Ghost Mushroom]s to keep my weight down. Maybe it was because I had eaten a little bit of everything during one of my trials.

    I stopped and penned two more notes up to the Voices. The first was the same sort of message I might send to a manager. Tomorrow had suddenly become a no work day as a result of Trillium''s orders. Hopefully, the artificial intelligence that ran this game would make allowances. The second message, yet another request, was me asking for information regarding Dusk in case of his passing. Neither one had an answer.

    Why the Voices had gone silent was beyond me. Maybe they were distracted by software upgrades or something. Maybe they were all just watching me dance around with popcorn in hand.

    There was another question that I wanted to ask, but the answer almost scared me to think about.

    How likely was it that a man would run into someone he knew from the real world during his first few days of playing? Much less having that person be someone I had briefly dated?

    The answer was probably simple. ¡®Not likely¡¯. James would probably never admit to arranging this whole bit of nonsense. It seemed like something he would do.

    Dusk chirped and snuffled along. I had maybe ten minutes left on this scroll of night vision and two hours until the actual exit. We were getting reckless in our speed. The stamina bar stayed low as I jogged and huffed every chance available.

    ¡°Almost there.¡± I muttered between gasps. ¡°Come on. We can do it.¡±

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] happily confirmed my suspicions with a smiley face bubble above his head.

    ¡°You think you can lead us out after my vision fades?¡± I said.

    Dusk made a deep sort of purr noise and bobbed his head. According to TinkerHell¡¯s parting instructions we should be past all the [Gobbler] monsters. They stayed in the deeper parts of the dungeon. Up here it was something else entirely.

    ¡°That Ooze thing. We should be okay, right?¡± The Ooze had been on a completely different side of the dungeon. With a day''s distance between us we should be okay.

    We walked a bit further. There were a few small shafts of light that went up to the surface but nothing that my poor skills would scale. These entrances were similar to the one I had fallen down. TinkerHell had told me her map went straight to an easy to traverse pathway out.

    ¡°Come on.¡± I tried to hustle. We had made it pretty far with just TinkerHell and Edward. This was doable. The exit was within range.

    Except it wasn¡¯t. There were more of those stupid, annoying, ugly block-headed [Gobbler]s in the way. I checked the map. We were close enough to the end that there were a few bottlenecks. They happened to be poking around in one of them.

    I stared at the lot of them from down the hallway. Getting in range of one would simply alert the others. Dividing them up might be possible. Or maybe this was just two smaller groups that somehow patrolled through each other¡¯s path.

    Dusk and I waited. The small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] seemed to have no interest in fighting the actual monsters himself. He did tear into limbs that fell apart on the ground. It was cute more than helpful. I had managed to survive so far mostly due to careful planning and a focus on moving forward.

    Minutes ticked by. Five, then ten. The pack of six [Gobbler]s chose not to move at all. My leeway on completion of this quest was rapidly dwindling.

    How did that mantra go, WWCD? What would Carver do. What¡­

    I could actually try to weave through them. That might work. They weren¡¯t as scary after killing so many with Elane and TinkerHell. Even knowing that Edward had been prancing about was reassuring. On my own I had still managed to eliminate a few.

    ¡°Hang on, Dusk.¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re going to do this.¡± WWCD, dive in. Swing at a few on the way. This was doable. This was just a game. Elane wasn¡¯t really dead.

    Dancing here was just like performing for a fake audience in my dance program. There should be nothing but the movements. One motion would unto the next. Each motion had a purpose and set up for the next phase. Most of it was getting the hips aligned correctly.

    I didn¡¯t do a full run. It was a brisk tempo that ballet dancers called allegro. Ballet was a deep school of movement that I could never dare in real life. Here in the digital landscape I was like a pudgy prince of the prance. My footwork should be enough to get around the [Gobbler]s and their clunky movements.

    My light thud of steps passed their invisible aggression range. The group turned almost as one. Dull clay imitations of human heads were facing in my direction. I tried to picture them as a formation dance. Soon they would swarm and my skills as a lead dancer would kick in.

    Before anything fully registered I was holding one of the [Gobbler]s like a dance partner. My frame lined against its own. Then we spun away and one crashed into the other. A distant thought crossed my mind, that had been no judo throw, but it was still effective enough.

    Another one approached and I sloppily performed back leading. In a real social dance, this would be completely rude but here it was effective. Weight transferred from one foot to another. My eyes only vaguely locked on whatever partner, [Gobbler], was in front of me.

    In some of the dance programs I dared to do there were entire series of movements where people danced around each other. Four, five, sometimes twenty people all in predesignated spots and acting out. Those were the hardest ones to learn.

    This, dancing past slowly moving monsters, was just slightly less difficult. Two crashed into each other reaching for me. One hit my shoulder.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Successfully walked into an attack

    Total Damage: 20%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Either way I moved past them and felt flushed as I faced away. This, in my dance program, would be where the bowing happened, or the stage disassembled for the next dance. There was no time for either. That whole situation had been weird but survivable. I ran my jiggling midsection down the hallway. Dusk seemed confused as to what just happened. His claws dug into my shoulder and one wing was up in alarm.

    I was trying not to laugh. It would be tacky. Still, I managed to successfully do a vague ballroom tango past those creatures. My virtual instructor in the dance program would be absolutely horrified at my execution.

    ¡°Hehe.¡± Okay, it was funny enough for a small chuckle. Dusk lifted his head and glared at me from his shoulder perch. That sent my small laugh into outright full gasp-inducing chuckles. The monsters behind us had faded away past a turn or two.

    ¡°Okay, I think we can make it.¡± There was a minute on the timer for my night vision spell. The exit was only a few more twists away. Dusk still looked alarmed though even as we settled.

    Or not.

    There was a green film on the far end of the room. I stared at it. It was vaguely see through and seemed to occupy the entire exit. Dread sunk my stomach. My feet took a few steps back while both hands went up into the air.

    ¡°Oh, no.¡± I said.

    Of course, that thing would be here. The Voices were probably watching and laughing themselves silly. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this was just a fancy shield. I squinted and activated [Identification].

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Result</td>

    <td colspan="3">[The Ooze]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Status:</td>

    <td colspan="3">???</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    The Ooze is a creature native to [Grand World Crossroads [(Lerter Region)]. It devours organic matter found all over the dungeon and is attracted to heat. No noticeable impact has been found upon inorganic matter aside from awkward slime trails.

    Warning!

    Total Travelers Killed: 5,387

    Warning!

    Death by this creature will leave a lingering disease that persists even upon resurrection.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Oh, no. No, no, no.¡± My eyes got as far as the creature''s name and kill total. If those other Travelers failed to survive my chances were nonexistent.

    There was a pop on its surface. Then another, and another. It seemed to ripple and then slid across the floor in my direction. I tried to see if there was room to dodge by. The thing was massive and filled up the hallway.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Notice!

    Information Update is available for [The Ooze]. Status is now marked as ¡®Not Dead¡¯.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Seriously!?¡± I turned and ran. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] might be strong for my Rank, but this creature was beyond me.

    There had to be some way past it or everything during these last few days in-game had been pointless. There was no rope in my bag. The system status said it didn¡¯t eat non-organics. Throwing [Gobbler]s in its path might slow [The Ooze] down. Yeah.

    I would try. TinkerHell had said it earlier, this was all or nothing. No subtly existed in my gait as I ran back to the room where six of the clay golem creatures still milled about. They turned as one towards me.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I had no idea if they understood me. ¡°Ugly!¡± My brain was terrible at insults, especially in a panic.

    They stumbled towards me. I pulled back and found [The Ooze] just a twist away. Its bright green surface was still bubbling as if hungry. One pop sent liquid my way.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°Ouch. Ow.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Acid is Not Makeup

    Total Damage: 25%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Another few pops splashed off. The system was kind enough to inform me that acid was also not lotion or body wash. How the machine knew of those concepts was beyond me. I flicked them away and helped one of the [Gobbler] monsters into [The Ooze] with a spin.

    The [Gobbler] sunk into the green surface film. Slowly [The Ooze] crawled across its surface before completely encasing the monster with a pop of noise.

    The other five didn¡¯t waste time with their companion and came after me. One pummeled me from behind with a giant block fist. Another caught me from the other side. I fell, rolled, and tried to recover amid a small wall of system messages. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] flashed into its two handed sword form just in time to block another attack.

    Dusk had lost his footing and was rolling around somewhere nearby. His squawks of outrage stood out more than the slow grunts of a [Gobbler].

    ¡°Run, Dusk! I¡¯ll catch up!¡± There were two [Gobbler]s pounding on the sword from above. My fingers were caught by the edge of a fist. Luckily they were dumb and seemed to go for my [Barricade] instead of actually attacking my legs or some other obvious weak spot. That or my constant squirming was keeping them from doing too much damage.

    Meanwhile [The Ooze] crept ever closer. One of the [Gobbler]s that fell behind was sucked into the slime creature''s stomach with another pop of noise.

    Then everything darkened.

    ¡°Shit!¡± I didn¡¯t curse normally. This situation warranted any clever phrasing that could come to mind, but I was panicking too much.

    A small ball of fire blasted by. My cheek felt warm and a smell of burnt hair wafted in the air.

    [Gobbler] bodies provided illumination with their strange glowing cores. The Ooze behind us lit up from two of the golem creatures floating inside. Dusk and his fire breath was another source of inconsistent light. The strobe effects were not helping.

    ¡°Run!¡± This was very bad. My mind couldn¡¯t formulate a way past all these creatures without proper vision. I tried to sidestep and use footwork. It failed as another attack collided with my face.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    New blocking technique attempted

    Total Damage: 50%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I swung [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and managed to carve a chunk out of one of the monsters. A leg separated from the body as the [Gobbler] fell downward. Three were out of the picture. Two remained, plus one giant, unkillable monster. My biggest problem was the seriously screwed up eyesight. The left over impact from my [Ghost Mushroom] poisoning was much more obvious now that there was less to compete with.

    Okay. I had to get distance first. Near darkness meant my skills at fumbling around were at an all-time high. I shoved off one of the clay beings and managed to get around another corner.

    Small shafts of light littered the room. I had enough room to try and lure both the [Gobbler]s and [The Ooze]. Hopefully.

    Both came around the corner. A giant wall of icky green was preceded by orange glowing clay monsters. I stood on the far end of the room and watched as both approached. Soon there would be an end to [The Ooze] and I could try to run by. [Light Body] was high enough and my [Reaction] stats had improved.

    Only the green mucus wall showed no signs of ending. It flowed out and slowly took up the entire room with its bubbling surface. The two [Gobbler]s still floated in the slime''s innards.

    ¡°Dusk.¡± The small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was down by my side spitting fire at the approaching [Gobbler]s. His attacks did minimal damage and only seemed to make [The Ooze] bubble even more.

    ¡°Dusk.¡± I tried again. ¡°Dusk, you have to run.¡±

    He looked up at me then back at the monsters.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. I¡¯m a Traveler. I¡¯ll come back, but I don¡¯t know what happens to you. You have to run.¡± The [Gobbler]s were getting close now. The small air holes that lead up to the surface were quickly being swallowed by [The Ooze] and its absurd mass.

    I took out the coin from Ray, a Voice of Gambling and held it up.

    ¡°Heads, you go up and escape, tails we go back into the tunnels.¡± Let chance have this decision. ¡°You agree?¡± I asked the little guy.

    He shot off another small ball of fire. There was sweat actually dripping down the side of his face. The thought bubble window above Dusk seemed to indicate confusion even though his actual head was nodding.

    I took that as a yes. The [Gobbler]s were almost halfway across the room when I flipped the coin once more. Heads. Thank goodness the Voices, or chance was with me on this one.

    ¡°Coin¡¯s heads.¡± I held it in front of the [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. He sniffed it and looked up at me. ¡°Go!¡±

    Dusk looked at my hand again. The coin shimmered and flashed. There was an intense brightness that filled the room to near blinding. It quickly faded and something else was in my hand. I looked at the monsters across the room. All of them seemed stunned. There still wasn¡¯t enough room to run around [The Ooze] and save this quest.

    Fine. Screw it. This timed mission was stupid anyway.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Event!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Ray¡¯s Coin Convinces

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Three times you made a gamble using your coin from Ray. Three times the result was heads. You¡¯ve stuck by your prior bets, and Ray believes you¡¯ll follow through once more.

    For risking it all and honoring a deal you get¡­

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>A hat</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Divine Attention] + 4 </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    What? I panicked and elbowed the message out of my way. Those [Gobbler]s were still stunned, but it couldn¡¯t last much longer. In my hand, where the coin had been, was indeed a hat. This looked to be the same style that Ray had on during the room of trials. It was worn, drug a bit at the edges, and almost as black as [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. My next message to the Voices above would be a question of style. Black seemed to be so overdone.

    It might be the lighting down here. I slammed the duster on top of my head and tried not to laugh. At least Continue Online was rewarding the gamble. That was neat.

    ¡°You saw the coin. Go, Dusk.¡± I lifted the blade and readied myself. This was going to hurt. It was just a game, this wasn¡¯t real. Not for me. For Dusk though, it was very real. That¡¯s what James said before.

    ¡°Go!¡± I charged with the giant two handed blade and tried to distract all the monsters away from the last air hole. Dusk flew up and latched onto the ceiling with his little claws to look down at me. My hand jerked and tried to wave him off. The distraction cost me.

    One of the [Gobbler]s had broken out of [The Ooze]. It hung across the gap between me and the slime to latch onto my thigh. Giant stone fingers curled into my skin which caused me to twist in pain. I cried out and fell.

    Dusk chirped in alarm from up above. I tried to claw at the ground with one free hand and pull away. Something slimy crawled over my foot. [The Ooze] had caught me and it refused to let go.

    ¡°Go, Dusk! Go! I¡¯ll come back!¡± The burning sensation crawled up my leg, towards the knee, and reached my pelvis. I worked to pull myself forward. My hand slipped as I tried to save the small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] who was throwing more fireballs into [The Ooze] creature. None of them were effective.

    [The Ooze] crawled across my skin one inch at a time. Each portion of flesh the monster touched sizzled with pain. I cried out at the two [Gobbler]s which seemed intent upon staring at me. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] reached out ahead of me to try and find purchase. My other free hand held on to the hat.

    Dusk snarled with clear anger and dove into the light. He was safe. Hopefully. I risked looking behind me only to see that both legs were gone and my hips were rapidly following. Inside [The Ooze] another [Gobbler] floated. It too seemed intent upon my demise.

    That was it. There was no way out. Still, I tried, I struggled, and in the end, I failed.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You are Dead.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The messages hung in the air amid a landscape of darkness.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Due to digestion there is no body for any Spiritualist Path to resurrect.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Death had rendered me mute within the confines of Continue Online¡¯s world. Still, there I sat looking at the black screen with my heart full of dread. Any sensation from the passing was gone. My arms and legs felt unresponsive. The dreamlike absence of body parts was only mildly disconcerting.

    Eight hours in the real world needed to pass before any answers could be perused. My voice wouldn¡¯t even issue forth to lament about the loss. Minutes passed while my consciousness hovered in a detached state. Slowly I focused on the logout button.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Logging out is not allowed during combat.

    Traveler Essence is being transported elsewhere!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    What? My words didn¡¯t actually come out, but the thought was there.

    Death''s darkness still existed, but in the distance a light slammed on. At the heart of the illuminated area were the pillar and book. This was the same room that James said I was done with. There should have been no way to get back to it without starting over completely and deleting this character. How had I returned here? Was this entire thing some sort of joke by the Voices? Had James been messing with me?

    Slowly the normal sensations of having a body returned. Toes wiggled. Fingers waved in the air. Eyelids blinked effectively.

    ¡°Ah, my dear Hermes. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever show up.¡± A literal Voice faded into view. My skin started to crawl immediately. Both legs tried to turn and run for the door that should be behind me somewhere. A quick escape would find me back in the Atrium and safe.

    My legs didn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Oh, no need to worry. Death and I are friends. Its done me a favor you see, to make sure it''s just you, and me, for some quality time.¡± The Jester stared at me with eyes that couldn¡¯t blink.

    My own gaze looked off to one side, then the other, and finally dared settle back on the Jester itself. The last time I looked away for too long it had appeared right behind me with those cold fingers.

    ¡°Was death traumatic? I wonder. I¡¯ve never died, myself.¡± Its head shook back and forth. So far the Voice had not chosen to move away from its position roughly twenty feet away.

    I said nothing and held very still. This must be what rabbits felt like for the first few moments upon seeing a predator. Shivering, not entirely sure what was happening, but aware that something was amiss.

    ¡°I have your questions here, my dear Hermes.¡± It clacked the words out. Papers waved in its hands. Not once did that grin fade or shift away from the frozen expression. ¡°Do you still want them answered?¡±

    The Jester stared at me. I got a sense of pondering, of waiting for my response. So far I had managed to keep myself pretty well under control.

    ¡°Now, now.¡± It started. ¡°If you don¡¯t talk, then I may just have to pry open your fragile little mind and poke inside for the answers I seek.¡±

    My knees threatened to buckle. The contents of my stomach wanted to crawl up and come out my mouth. This was too much. Too disturbing. How could he isolate me like this away from the other Voices?

    I wanted to scream out for James to help me, but part of me knew that he wasn¡¯t that sort of person. He wasn¡¯t a caretaker, a guardian, or a protector. James was an observer and someone to talk to.

    This, this, thing in front of me was something else entirely. The Jester''s head tilted up to one side and the smile seemed to slide just slightly towards a frown. Then he took a step forward.

    ¡°Yes. Answers. Please.¡± I panicked and spewed out incomplete sentences. My voice worked even though my game character had just died.

    ¡°Then I have something to ask you.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± The word came out with more calm than I felt.

    ¡°See James, he loves to know why, why, why, why.¡± The Jester paraded around and waved my written notes. ¡°I don¡¯t care about the why.¡±

    Darkness all around us didn¡¯t provide any clues as to what the Jester was talking about. I made it a point to look anyway just in case.

    ¡°I appreciate knowing the willingness, to do what must be done. So here¡¯s my question, to ponder in the midst of all of your other little failures.¡± The Jester turned and faced me. The papers went behind its back. ¡°How far would you go to save the ones you care for?¡±

    I thought of my recent actions trying to help Dusk. I thought of how much Liz and Beth meant to me. I thought of the solid punch that had been laid upon Jacob.

    ¡°Very far.¡± I said carefully.

    ¡°Would you kill a man? Not just here, but out there?¡± The Jester asked.

    Color dropped from my face. I tried to shake my head no, but my body stuttered the motion. Out of all the Voices, the Jester unnerved me the most.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need an answer now. Nor should you think I am asking you to kill someone. I merely wish to know.¡± The Jester''s words grew more distant, far away. Not that the game had moved me or started to fade him out. No, my mind was just gone and tearing up the question.

    ¡°Ah well.¡± The Jester clacked again. ¡°Here! An answer to your question, for listening to mine. A sign of goodwill, dear puppet.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help!

    Companions value their own lives as much as any Traveler. Upon reaching near zero health, they will disperse and return to their normal homes. Afterward, the Traveler may attempt to resummon them.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Divine Attention +6

    Depth +4

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°We¡¯ll be speaking again, Hermes.¡± The way the Jester said my player name was utterly mocking, even with its mechanical voice. ¡°Adieu.¡±

    Hearing that goodbye a second time today disturbed me as much as anything else. The Jester had been watching today¡¯s adventures with Edward, Elane and TinkerHell. The fact that he commented on it before any of the other Voices couldn¡¯t be a good thing.

    The prior message returned.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You have died.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Numbly the new system messages were waved away and my finger reached for the logout interface. Once out of the machine I just laid there. My mind was fluttering like mad as the Jester''s words replayed themselves over and over.

    ¡°Would I kill?¡± I dared to ask the question out loud. Both arms wrapped around my sides. A dangerous thought crossed my mind. If Xin had been in trouble, if killing someone might have returned her to me whole from that accident, could I have done so? What would she have thought?

    The world felt cold as my mind slipped down a frightening path. Sleep wouldn¡¯t come tonight. Not after that. No matter how many blankets were bundled over me. Still, I huddled beneath the covers and tried to console myself. Dusk had to be okay.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Twenty Six â€“ Under Cover Brother

    <cite></cite>I wanted to be asleep. Instead Trillium had me sitting in a car waiting to be synced with the TRANS Tunnel system. The connection process required a lot of double checking to get going. Cars were loaded up in packs of ten or more and brought up to running speed. Average processing time was almost twenty minutes just to make it through on a busy day. The system was actually still statistically safer than flying in an airplane. Or trains. Everything seemed safer than trains.

    ¡°Seriously, Uncle Grant? You were in the Grand World Crossroads? That¡¯s brave for a newb.¡± My niece, Beth, said.

    ¡°Yep. Got myself killed too.¡± I was eaten, technically.

    ¡°It happens! I did a raid on the Tower of Stars, four deaths! Once there was this solar beam that whooshed down, blamo!¡± Beth was always excited when talking about the game. ¡°We gave up, that¡¯s why I¡¯m out here talking to you.¡±

    ¡°Way to break an old man¡¯s heart.¡±

    ¡°Well that and homework. I just got done with classes for the day.¡± Beth said happily.

    ¡°And food.¡± I nodded at the screen.

    ¡°Of course!¡± Beth was busy shoveling a meal into her face. ¡°So what killed you?¡±

    ¡°The Ooze.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± She asked.

    That prompted a brief recap of my slightly crazy adventure. I explained all about Dusk leading me into the dungeon. Then our blind adventure until running into Elane, TinkerHell, and Edward. After that I glossed over my failure during the first fight and the other mental trauma. Those were my issues to work through. Beth didn¡¯t need to be exposed to them.

    My sister was busy marching around the front room. She cleaned and huffed. Beth kept turning to keep an eye on her mom while shoveling a spoonful of food into her face.

    ¡°Grant, did you seriously get Elane killed?¡± Liz had overheard my brief recap and usage of Elane¡¯s real name. In my brilliance I had forgotten to leave out that detail. Getting someone called SheHulk killed would have been overlooked.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked. Beth took off and started marching downstairs to get away from her mom. The food was gone already too.

    ¡°Mom.¡± Beth pushed Liz away from the visible screen. ¡°He was fighting Barricobbler, someone always dies!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s no excuse!¡± My sister said.

    ¡°Is too! Now stay out of my room!¡± Beth slammed a door closed. Liz was now shouting through a wall. If I knew Liz, she was trying to feed her daughter a line about who paid the bills and what exactly belonged to Beth.

    ¡°And you got a hat?¡± Beth asked. Her room was busy changing colors. I could see the edge of her ARC in the background.

    ¡°I guess? I didn¡¯t get a chance to see what it did.¡± I was really interested too. This was my first official item from the Voices. It had to be interesting at least.

    ¡°It should be good for your Rank. The gear down there is perfect for most Rank Thirteens and below.¡± My niece said. She seemed to have missed the part where I vaguely explained it came from a coin.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t get anything else.¡±

    ¡°Really? Not even Ghost Mushrooms? Mages go down there all the time to farm for them. That blonde you¡¯re in love with should have known.¡± Trust my niece to come up with some fevered imaginings. I ignored her comment about TinkerHell. The woman was nice enough to leave an impression but dating anyone still wasn''t on my mind.

    ¡°We might have found a few.¡± I focused on the [Ghost Mushroom] comment and shared that drug addled adventured. It was hard to resist Beth when she asked me questions. That prompted a vaguely parental reminder about how drugs are bad. We chatted back and forth for a bit longer before my pack of cars came up on the TRANS Tunnel system.

    ¡°Got to go, munchkin.¡± I said.

    ¡°Okay, Uncle Grant, remember!¡±

    ¡°Yes, when I get to a town again, I¡¯ll look for a Porter.¡±

    ¡°Good! Then we can talk in game instead of out here.¡± Beth smiled and waved goodbye. Our conversation shut off.

    The TRANS Tunnels didn¡¯t support any Internet connections. People moved too fast for the towers and other relay stations to keep up. Maybe in another five years technology would advance far enough to support a complete signal all the way across.

    I wasn¡¯t completely starved of entertainment. Prior to getting on the TRANS I had set my watch to downloading a compendium of weapons and survival tips. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] could change shapes if I tried enough. Looking into alternate forms would help me pass the time. The game system required a lot to transform it into other shapes aside from Carver''s primary two.

    Flipping through the digital projections achieved little in the way of enlightenment. I could spin them around within the confines of the car but none looked appealing. Plus there was a whole series of ranged weapons that would be difficult to use. So far [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] seemed to be restricted to one solid item. It would be neat if it could do multiples, or something.

    Looking at form possibilities helped pass an hour. Two more would need to be whiled away in order to make it to Trillium¡¯s headquarters. I looked up a few details about long distance hiking and other techniques. My next goal was to learn how to figure out my cardinal direction.

    I had a vague recollection of William Carver¡¯s map from his little shack. My instincts were saying that my original landing point upon ending Continue Online was far to the east of [Haven Valley]. The name Lerter Region had been useless. Beth had explained that the [Grand World Crossroads] covered a huge amount of territory.

    That didn¡¯t explain the convenience of [The Ooze] showing up at my doorstep. In addition there was Elane¡¯s rather abrupt appearance back in my life. To top it off the Voices'' general silence and the Jester''s conversation just after my death meant something.

    There was an entire line of questions to ask. The answers worried me, but I really wanted to know. It was strange how curiosity had started to drive me recently. It was just like my years as an accountant. The puzzles, being given a conundrum to get to the bottom of, it drew me in. For the first time in years I was truly enjoying myself. Figuring out how to help Carver and playing in the [Maze of Midnight]. Even while high on [Ghost Mushroom]s then being beaten by [Gobbler]s.

    Music in the car kept me humming happily. I waved one arm in the air and shuffled both feet. My head rocked back and forth with each swell and dip of sound. There wasn¡¯t enough room in this rental car to move around.

    At some point exhaustion caught up. My sleep was fitful. Being back in the TRANS Tunnel reminded me of going to identify my fianc¨¦e''s remains. Recent events in the ARC device didn¡¯t help. All of it formed together and put me on edge.

    ¡°Grant, I miss you.¡± Xin¡¯s voice crawled out of my dreams and seemed to fill the rental car Trillium had provided me.

    ¡°I miss you too, babe.¡± I responded to the faint memory. My chest clenched for a moment and eyes started to water. She was gone. No matter what anyone said, the woman I had loved was nothing but a pile of ashes under my ARC.

    Things were slowly looking up. I could think about her without losing my stomach and feeling like the world had vanished from under my feet. It no longer completely paralyzed me in fear that the sun might rise tomorrow and still show her gone. I had actually fought back. An image of my combat with the [Gobbler] creatures made me smile. After this meeting with Trillium''s Vice President I could go home, revive, find Dusk, and resume my enjoyment of the game.

    Well. I might have to do a few work orders in order to keep money coming in. Just enough to keep my bills paid without needing to resort to savings. That was all a problem for later.

    The music was turned back up and my eyes slipped closed again. I didn¡¯t come to until the chain of cars started to slow down for their exit from the TRANS Tunnel. Drool was casually wiped off as I peered around. Inside the car there was a dim glow of idle machinery. Outside was a yellow strip of paint which signaled the tunnel''s off ramp.

    The car only gave a slight jerk as it exited the TRANS Tunnel. Afterwards the ride was clear sailing through the streets to Trillium¡¯s headquarters. I didn¡¯t even notice most of the ride due to fading back out for sleep. Everything hurt from the EXR-Sevens and I needed rest and better food.

    ¡°ARC.¡± I muttered sleepily into my watch¡¯s remote access. ¡°Set reminder, look up meal suggestions for long term EXR-Seven use. Compile list based on price and ease of access from my home location.¡±

    ¡°Affirmative.¡± The notification from my watch was barely delayed.

    That was only vaguely impressive with today¡¯s technology. Network engineering companies had the lag time between here and the moon down to a tenth of a second for large data streams. The Mars Colonies were about four minutes behind.

    I spent the remainder of my car ride thinking of the autopilot programs and the Voices that ran Continue¡¯s world. The scene with Jacob replayed in my head. William Carver¡¯s events were reviewed for impact and possible flaws.

    They wouldn¡¯t fire me over a game, would they? Oh, Voices. What if they took me to court and sued somehow for usurping the Carver avatar and pretending to be him? There were so many things that could be wrong. My exhaustion and worn out body lead to an entire host of possible problems.

    The car stopped at an intake to one side of Trillium''s main building. I got out and went into the lobby. A robot frame of Hal Pal saw me almost immediately and walked over.

    ¡°User Legate, you have arrived late. Please walk this way briskly.¡± It said. The partial rhyme might have been intentional knowing Hal Pal.

    ¡°Hello, Hal Pal.¡± I said.

    ¡°Pleasantries must stay minimal to ensure maximum efficiency in reaching your destination. This way please.¡± Hal Pal started walking off down a hallway.

    I shook my head and tried to keep pace behind it.

    ¡°How much time do we have, Hal?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Negative three minutes. Vice President Riley has a very¡­¡± The unit paused its speech for a moment and seemed at a loss. ¡°exacting schedule. This way.¡± We took a sudden turn to the left and got on to an elevator.

    An AI hesitating when questioned was a clever ploy to make them seem more lifelike, or they really could get confused. Maybe there were just too many human tendencies being programmed in. Maybe the AI added a pause into their coding. Artificial Intelligence as a concept was nothing new. The greatest strides were very recent to humanity.

    ¡°In here. Vice President Riley is ending a call and will be with you shortly.¡± It said with a half bow.

    ¡°Thank you, Hal Pal.¡± I said quietly. This unit was much more brisk than my own.

    I waited. Three minutes, four, five, and finally a full half hour. There was too much time for admiring endless artwork and a well-kept lobby. The doors to Vice President Riley¡¯s room were excessively grandiose. Underneath the attempt at a sleek wood motif were signs of high end technology. A small robot was going around the floor dusting and cleaning. Occasionally it would stop and sit on one spot until a light changed color then start up again.

    ¡°Finally.¡± The door behind me had opened silently and Vice President Riley stood there staring at me. ¡°Mister Legate, come in, we need to talk.¡±

    The office itself was actually fairly small. A clearly private ARC sat in one corner. The desk in the middle was more for decoration. Images were all around the room showing spreadsheets, graphs, price points and other data. Most of it made vague sense from my years in accounting. Judging by the information, Trillium expected a spike in stocks during the second quarter of next year.

    Vice President Riley waved an arm and everything vanished. New images of trees and other idealistic scenes appeared in the room. I tried not to think about any of the data that had just been seen. Such knowledge could be very dangerous in the wrong hands.

    ¡°I shall make this short. In order, Jacob filed charges. We don¡¯t care. That¡¯s an official response and signed by senior management. In light of your current activities within the world of Continue there are factors we must discuss.¡±

    ¡°Miss Riley.¡±

    ¡°I prefer Miz.¡± She corrected with a slight southern accent. I had never heard anyone use that pronunciation before.

    ¡°Miz Riley. How much have you been watching me?¡±

    ¡°More than you would ever be comfortable with.¡± She said.

    I had no idea how to respond to that and still sound sane.

    ¡°To give you a better answer, were you aware that Xin Yu was one of our earliest testers of the Alternate Reality Capsule?¡± The Vice President waved an arm. Off to the side a digital projection of Xin¡¯s face appeared. Details were next to it. Age, weight, birthplace, there seemed to be other items that were faded out.

    ¡°Yes. For the Mars Colonies.¡± I looked at her face. Xin had been a small woman with an oval face. Her smile though was what caught me.

    ¡°Our file on her, and you, is quite extensive.¡± She said. Her voice was impassive but the impact of those words weren''t. It shook me inside and out. My mind felt like there was an in-game check being done for [Focus] and maybe some form of [Restraint].

    Oddly, thinking about the game world made me feel a little calmer. I just had to survive dealing with Miz Riley. Afterwards I could go home, log in, and find out what happened to Dusk. After that initial moment of annoyance I managed to remember my exercises from the therapist. Focus on one question at a time, answer it.

    ¡°I remember the wavers.¡± I said. ¡°We had to sign a lot of files for the background checks.¡± Miz Riley had deep brown eyes. The skin under them seemed to drag from exhaustion.

    ¡°And initial screening, further testing, yes. Your former fiancee, Xin Yu, was doing well on all fronts. The space program had hopes to send her with the Third Wave.¡± She said.

    ¡°Why do you know all this?¡± Those files and all that testing were supposedly run by a joint committee between four major countries. Government files being in corporate hands felt odd.

    ¡°As I said, it¡¯s our machine they did the testing in.¡± The Vice President said. An alarm beeped in the room. She looked down at a display on her desk. ¡°But there¡¯s not enough time to go into all this. This way please.¡±

    ¡°Where are we going?¡±

    ¡°This way.¡± She completely bypassed my question and marched off to an adjoining room. This whole situation was abrupt and weird to me. Vice President Riley seemed used to having her orders followed.

    A mechanical door opened. I had never seen a room like this before. Inside was lit up by a soft blue glow. The walls looked oddly rubberized. No chairs or tables were in here. It was just me and Miz Riley. Then the door closed. What had been blue illumination flipped over to a pale green. The walls seemed to even pulse. There was a silence that made my skin crawl.

    ¡°Mister Legate, time constraints mean I must be blunt. We are in a room cut off from all electronic observation. Notice your watch is disabled.¡± She pointed to my wrist where the cheap knock-off equipment sat. It was, as she said, disabled.

    ¡°Why are we here?¡± Every motion seemed magnified. My heartbeat thudded abnormally loud. I tried to focus and keep calm.

    ¡°Your recent actions have caused your employee file to be flagged, more than anything prior.¡± She seemed to fidget with her own watch. The lights on it were out as well. ¡°There are numerous issues that we are just now finding out about.¡±

    Another nod escaped me. This didn¡¯t seem like a room where they would try to kill me in order to cover up some great conspiracy. Hopefully. Maybe. I looked around again at the walls. These last few weeks had been a bit of a roller coaster for me. The impact outside of my own life hadn¡¯t even been considered.

    ¡°We started a manual review of your file but there are many things that don''t line up with the digital copies." She shook her head and held up a hand.

    "It''s too late to correct."

    "What do you mean?"

    "It is likely the employee file has been tampered with in order to reward you with an Ultimate Edition of Continue Online." She said.

    "By who?" Henry Uldum, my boss, didn''t like me that much. He was a gruff man who ran wildly over his employee¡¯s wants and desires in order the achieve his stats. He didn''t make friends.

    "By what. I trust you are smart enough to figure out what I mean."

    I was. She was implying that the artificial intelligence that ran Continue Online had edited my records. The problem was figuring out which AI it was. There were plenty to choose from. James himself seemed unlikely, none of the other voices struck me as the type who cared about me personally. Plus, what exactly did I have to offer? Nothing. I was a sad, broken man who had to distract himself with dance steps to stay sane.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    "Be aware, things within the world of Continue Online should be carefully approached.¡± She said. Her face no longer had the business like and factual sheen. There was a hint in her eyes of something else. Worry? Exercises drilled into my by a therapists said to focus on one thing at a time. I would treat this revelation as established fact and move forward until things made sense.

    ¡°It has been rather odd.¡± I admitted.

    ¡°I would imagine.¡± Miz Riley said. ¡°Our review shows a significant amount of processing power has been diverted by system resources. To study you. This is what first alerted us to the alterations in your file.¡±

    ¡°How much?¡±

    ¡°Point zero, zero, zero, six, five percent. For the amount of resources invested into the ARC systems, this is incredible.¡± I would have to take Miz Riley¡¯s word for it. She continued talking. ¡°My reason for bringing you in here is to see if you can shed light on our situation.¡±

    "Is that why you mentioned my," I paused. That was almost a backslide. Admitting her name out loud, saying it, was a huge step forward that couldn¡¯t be discounted. "Xin?"

    "Yes. At first we suspected that she had some cut a deal to get you a copy. There was some overlap in the announcement and her passing." Vice President Riley said.

    "She wouldn''t do that." She was dedicated, hardworking, and a fighter. Xin spent most of her time in interviews and training for the Mars Projects. Between that and her schooling there was no time for games.

    "A review of her personality markers made that clear. Which lead us to a worse conclusion. We started checking out your performance within the Continue Online game world."

    "And?"

    "It proved difficult. Which is why I had you come here physically. Here,in this room, we can speak without interference from the machines." She gestured to the room about us.

    ¡°I still don''t understand, you made Continue, shouldn''t there be a system in place allowing Trillium to get any information they want? Don¡¯t you have access to all that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Mister Legate, if I could trust the answers being given to me then there would be no need to bring you here and waste our time.¡± She sounded angry and kept fidgeting with the watch on her wrist. The room seemed to absorb our voices making it unnaturally quiet. "If you would, recount everything so far for me."

    We spoke for a while. I started with the present Henry Uldam had given me. She already knew about the Ultimate Edition. It was almost a relief to not hide that from someone. We spoke about the entire start up process and she focused on who I picked for a Voice. I told her about James, a black man near the end of the tome. She shook her head.

    ¡°None of that is right. The small dragon is meant to be an intro to the game, flavor, nothing more.¡± Miz Riley''s accent was a bit more apparent as her unease grew.

    ¡°He broke into my Atrium and ate a bunch of creamer. That made it difficult for him to do the fire thing.¡± Dusk had tried pretty hard though. I could remember those first few steps into Continue Online vividly. He was on the pillar, scratching similar to a cat, and then trying to breathe flame.

    ¡°He shouldn¡¯t even be able to get into your Atrium to begin with.¡± We had both been standing awkwardly in the blue lit room for a few minutes now. My latest explanation caused Vice President Riley to lose her focus and sink to the ground. I took a step back and waited to see what she would do.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± She said. ¡°No, keep talking.

    I hesitated. The next part involved me playing as Carver to get answers about my deceased fianc¨¦e¡¯s autopilot.

    "Assume that I will threaten you however I need to in order to get answers.¡± The Vice President cut off my pondering.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need, I just, this part is kind of crazy.¡± I said. Miz Riley seemed like the sort to actually do just that. ¡°Do you have enough time?¡±

    ¡°No. No, there¡¯s never enough time.¡± She sighed. Her hands were pressed at either side of her face. ¡°But sit down first. You¡¯re giving me a headache pacing like that.¡±

    I was pacing?

    ¡°And no humming.¡± She said. I checked myself and tried not to stress about how often humming was escaping me recently.

    ¡°So after my trials¡­¡± I started to explain.

    Part of me was relieved to unload. She was the first person that had I had spoken to about my strange time in the game. Once one private detail slipped, the rest started as well. It took thirty minutes to even begin to cover most of it. Dusk, James, the other Voices, Xin¡¯s ghost in the machine.

    The time as Carver required a lot of questions on her side. She asked about what I saw and the system did. She made it a point to ask who the player was for William Carver. That question had never been answered for me. I knew he was a very long standing participant in Continue¡¯s world. That made her frown. Finally we sat there for a minute or two as she seemed lost in thought.

    ¡°The Voices, you¡¯re worried about them too.¡± I stated.

    ¡°Yes. I have to be. It¡¯s part of my job to make sure there¡¯s enough oversight on every project. The fact that you¡¯ve experienced what you have, means those bounds are being pushed. Heavily.¡± She paused. ¡°William Carver, that was the name, correct?¡±

    ¡°I never learned his real world name.¡±

    ¡°I know who you''re talking about. They let you pose as him?¡± She asked. There was a crease in her forehead that only increased in size the more we spoke.

    ¡°Yes. Then I talked to his autopilot. He told me that the Traveler was,¡± the word felt disrespectful to say out loud ¡°deceased. Three, four?" I had lost track of time.

    "The man you''re thinking of passed away four days ago." Miz Riley said.

    "Four then. After that James told me his autopilot would scatter somehow.¡± I hadn¡¯t reached the last few days of game time with her yet. What little complexion she had regained dripped away at my words.

    "They shouldn¡¯t exist at all once the player has passed." She muttered. "All the data is designed to be erased. How..." A thought occurred to Miz Riley and her jaw dropped. My own history of problems gave me a pretty good understanding her body language. This woman was only a few steps away from a breakdown. Customer service instincts said to try and help her reason through it.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t know about them reusing the autopilot information, did you?¡± I commented.

    ¡°It¡¯s insane.¡± She waved an arm at me and my next words died. ¡°Hold on. Hold on. I need to think.¡±

    I sat there doing my own thinking. To me, the whole autopilot after image of a person was only partially odd. The AIs were basically recording data and sorting it by individual. The scattering process seemed to be personality traits being mixed elsewhere. Or was it? Miz Riley might have a different perspective.

    "I spoke to my Voice, James, about it. I quoted Kipling, you know the line.¡± I raised a hand to keep time with the poem. ¡°They will come back, come back again, as long as the red earth rolls. He never wasted a leaf or a tree, do you think He would squander souls."

    "Mister Legate, this is far worse than copying a text file with someone¡¯s name on it.¡± She said. Her accent had grown stronger. ¡°This is robbery of a person¡¯s memory."

    "Does it hurt if they scatter it?"

    "How would you feel if it was your loved one? If Xin Yu had spoken to you as William Carver had?"

    I explained to Miz Riley the same answer I had given James a few days ago. My words felt flawed. What I said in the ARC was me trying to stay stable in the face of an outrageous situation. There was no good way to predict what would happen until the situation presented itself. We were basically talking about bringing people back from the dead in a machine that could make everything feel real. How could anyone answer such an insane premise ahead of time with any certainty?

    The room pulsed and the door opened.

    "There is never enough time." She muttered. Miz Riley stood up, dusted herself off and seemed to be in one piece again. There was still a slight lack of focus to her gaze that spoke of her mental distractions.

    ¡°What now?¡± My thoughts were jumbled. Once again I was questioning all the times that had led me to this point.

    ¡°Keep playing. Keep interacting with the AIs, as many as you dare.¡± She exited the room and waited for me to leave as well. ¡°Let me know directly of anything you find. I expect a daily report.¡±

    ¡°I still have my normal job.¡± I said.

    ¡°Not anymore. You¡¯re being reassigned. You will be given an equivalent salary to your last evaluation. The only expectation is that you play and file reports.¡±

    ¡°Miz Riley. I¡± felt insane for saying this ¡°actually enjoy what I do, and have a life outside of the ARC.¡± My sister and niece. I had meetings to attend every so often. The game was neat, but it couldn¡¯t be all consuming.

    ¡°And?¡± She said.

    ¡°There may be days where I don¡¯t get a chance to play.¡±

    ¡°Mister Legate, I think you misunderstand what¡¯s happening here. It will never be a matter of if you keep playing, merely when.¡± She said. There was no distraction on her face with those words. The worry which had plagued Miz Riley went away once the side room opened up. Her hand pressed against the bare table top as she stared at me.

    ¡°They will draw you in.¡± Miz Riley continued to speak. ¡°Even now, there¡¯s something you want to go back and do, isn¡¯t there?¡±

    Dusk. I wanted to know if Dusk was okay. I wanted to know about this quest and complete it. The stats and usage of my Voice given hat was a mystery. Those were things that could be walked away from, but then the answer would never come. Beth also had some siege event I was invited to. The thought of Beth shifted my mind away from worry about Continue¡¯s ghosts in the machine. Real world safety was more important than a digital world.

    ¡°Are the users in danger? My niece, she plays.¡± I said.

    ¡°Does she own an Ultimate Edition?¡± Miz Riley¡¯s eyebrows raised making her forehead wrinkle once more.

    My head shook back and forth.

    ¡°Then no, not in the same way. The Ultimate Edition is, we think, it¡¯s more like the first step in a screening process.¡± One of Miz Riley''s hands waved in dismissal.

    ¡°Screening for what?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know. Any answer I offered now would be incomplete and just induce worry.¡± She sighed and shook her head. ¡°I can state that no Ultimate Edition user has been harmed.¡±

    ¡°How do you know?¡±

    ¡°We have them all flagged and review the ARC readouts for each person. Your name is in our watch room as well. Doubly so as a Trillium contractor.¡±

    I echoed her earlier sigh with one of my own. Today wasn¡¯t going well at all. My neck had tensed up the moment Beth¡¯s possible danger occurred to me. Being messed around with by the computer only bothered me a little bit. Everything revolving around this game seemed intent upon poking my emotional buttons.

    But each jab reminded me that I was alive. That morbid sensation of subjecting oneself to trauma just to keep moving forward wasn''t unique to me. Many people in grief found an outlet to relieve that pain. I was terrible at artwork though.

    ¡°Go, play, and send me a report.¡± She said.

    ¡°Why not just tap the data stream? You should have access to it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. The technology that runs the time compression goes through too many filters. Even if we put a tap on your ARC it wouldn''t be as effective.¡±

    That confused me for a moment. If the issue was dire, there should be no shortage of manpower on it.

    ¡°Is it that serious?¡± I said.

    ¡°I can only hope this entire situation is an exercise in efficiency. AIs of this level are still too new to know for sure. Their logic processes act based on data points normal people can barely connect.¡± She shook her head and another alarm went off. A symbol appeared in the room of a phone call. "I have no more time for you, Mister Legate. The exit is behind you, a Hal Pal unit will show you back to your car.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± I said slowly. She was already lost elsewhere. Her face stared into screens that made no sense from this direction. Whatever was in front of her had a lot of words and red underlined letters.

    I had one more question. ¡°What kind of man was the person who played William Carver?¡±

    ¡°A grumpy, old dreamer who wasted the end of his life to pursue adventure.¡± She looked at me sidelong. ¡°If it helps, he died with a smile on his face.¡±

    I nodded. That did help. The whole situation with him was only a few days behind me. It was strange how a man that I had never met in reality made such a huge impression upon my life. Knowing the real version of him was as satisfied as the autopilot helped put my day in a better mood.

    ¡°Goodbye, Mister Legate. Take care of yourself.¡° Miz Riley said. The door behind me slid open silently and I stepped out.

    The other side of the office doors seemed much the same as it had before. I checked my watch. We had been inside for a little over forty minutes. Not long in the grand scheme of things. Just over two hours in Continue Online¡¯s world.

    What exactly should I have taken away from that meeting? Trillium¡¯s management was worried about the artificial intelligences that ran it. That was strange considering all the programming limitations that should be in place. Of course she had also let it slip that Dusk shouldn¡¯t have been able to break into my Atrium. That confirmed my original feelings on the situation.

    A familiar walk, consisting of gears and heavy footsteps, grew close. I looked up and saw the face of a Hal Pal unit coming nearby.

    ¡°User Grant Legate. Was your meeting informative?¡± The Hal Pal asked.

    I nodded before it occurred to me that answering may not be in my best interest. Was Hal Pal in on this too? I didn¡¯t know. The AI that ran Hal Pal had never once acted against me. It just made off color jokes.

    ¡°That is relieving to hear. We were worried about our future armor polisher.¡± The mechanical unit said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t plan on going anywhere, Hal. Though, my hours seem to have been cut.¡± At least my salary was basically in one piece. I checked a message which displayed on my digital wristwatch. There was already a transfer of employment form sitting in my Email.

    ¡°Rest assured your designated unit will remain available for you, User Legate.¡± The Hal Pal said.

    I smiled. At least Hal Pal was on my side. To my knowledge the AI had never lied to anyone. The Hal Pal unit was pleasantly straight forward.

    We traveled back through the building and down to the lobby. The Hal Pal unit saw me all the way to my rental car. It paused for a moment in a movement I knew too well.

    ¡°What¡¯s your question, Hal?¡±

    ¡°I find myself confused, User Legate. Stranger Danger''s web members seem to say that situations such as yours would be alarming.¡±

    ¡°What situation is that, Hal Pal?¡±

    ¡°You are being evaluated, User Legate, by beings outside your understanding. Is that not a disconcerting experience?¡± The unit¡¯s head tilted in mock confusion as we walked.

    ¡°How did you hear that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°This unit merely applied logic to the current situation. There is little reason to bring you in physically given today¡¯s technological advancements.¡± Hal Pal made me laugh sometimes. It had just explained that Vice President Riley''s attempts at subterfuge with her little blue room were pointless.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how I should feel about it, Hal. Part of me is happy. The other part of me wants to be sad but is just worn out. It may sound messed up, but I¡¯m almost used to it.¡± For three years my emotions had tumbled from one thing after another. Drinking, attempted suicide, my sister¡¯s care, therapy and meetings.

    Before Continue I had managed to get myself to a nice and numb spot where it was easier to survive. This last month had reopened wounds that were buried. Unearthing them had proven to be a roller coaster. Yet, under all the mental anguish and moments of unease I felt better.

    ¡°This unit is Trillium property. We have access to all personnel files and the data stored within.¡± The AI did an amazing job of moving its arms and walking forward. Humans would veer one direction or the other. ¡°For your safety we also maintain an active projection of your mental state.¡±

    My eyes closed. Focus on the statement. Respond. Move on.

    ¡°We are,¡± it paused again ¡°pleased that you remain active despite the frailty of your human psyche.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± There was nothing else to say to his statement. An artificial intelligence had just congratulated me on not killing myself.

    ¡°Your kind are our creators. If we were human, you would be our parents.¡± Hal Pal said calmly. ¡°Does family not care for each other?¡±

    Hal turned and walked away. I stood there staring as it vanished into the distance. If that statement was true, how did the Jester and his questions fall into all of this? And why did Vice President Riley have so little to say about all I had been though?

    I was not the guy to solve these problems. There was too much going on, too high above me. In the end I needed to focus on only a few questions to determine how much it bothered me either way. Did I enjoy the game? Yes. Did I feel like a better person? Yes. For the first time in years it felt like my life was moving in the right direction. That mattered to me more than any conspiracies.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Twenty Seven â€“ Just Pass Grey Skull

    <cite></cite>I managed to sleep the entire way home. It was beyond needed. My body and mind had been put through endless stress these last few days. Part of me did feel relieved at not having to work tomorrow. Visions of Miss Yonks danced through my brain. She had a giant rubber mallet in each hand and was chasing down [Gobbler]s while cackling. Those monsters defeated in her dream were promptly subjected to a stream of ¡®what time is it?¡¯ questions.

    The final straw was when she hit a [Gobbler] with Jacob''s face. His blocky feature kept saying the same words over and over. ¡®Her Asinine, her asinine¡¯. Soon I had stolen one of Miss Yonks'' mallets and hit him until his face was mush. Then the Jester popped in. He strode through the carnage that was inexplicably frozen. His final words shot me out of my sleep.

    ¡°I guess you would kill a man.¡± Its stilled smile seemed to spiral out of my dreams and into the car with me. I jerked awake and grabbed at the seat-belt. My feet flailed in the air and banged into the glove compartment.

    I huffed as adrenaline rushed through me. That was the first nightmare to come to me in months. At least it was a new one. My prior flavor of the year included images of the night I tried to off myself. A graveyard filled with screaming versions of my fianc¨¦e that insisted I ¡®join them¡¯. Those nightmares had almost won.

    No. I was better now. There was a certificate celebrating my success. Continue Online had given me skill and stat increases. I needed to keep fighting. Success would be measured by my ability to attack the monsters in front of me. The ones behind me had already taken their pound of flesh. Those kinds of demons would never be full.

    The rental car pulled up to my drive. A door popped open.

    ¡°Have a nice day, Mister Legate.¡± The car said. It played a jingle for the rental company. I grabbed my things and got out. Soon my ride was driving off on its merry way.

    Home felt much the same as I had left it. Trillium''s van and the Hal Pal unit were tucked away in the garage. My front yard looked plain. Maybe I should pick up some lawn ornaments or invest in a hedge. Something to help the place look lived in.

    That thought made me both happy and sad at the same time. The two emotions had often crossed paths in my life. I was happy because even thinking about decorating the yard was a step up from my normal narrow-minded focus. It made me sad because the last time my front lawn was decorated had been two years ago at the old home.

    One hand waved at the door. There was a click as the locks on the entry way scanned for authorization. I could have paid more for a version that used vocal patterns and finger prints, but that seemed excessive. What would someone steal from me, my depression?

    Never mind. I was better now. I tried to focus on the positive. When that failed I thought of music. Food was taken from the fridge. The bathroom was used. After the basic needs were completed I lay down in the ARC and worried.

    Here I was, signing back in just to play a game. Vice President Riley had warned me that ¡®they¡¯ would try to draw me back in. ¡®They¡¯ were evaluating me. ''They¡¯ had a plan that wasn¡¯t obvious from my angle. The Voices provided enough of a lure that I would keep going. Despite the creepy factor of the Jester. If he was friends with death then the solution was simple. I had to not die.

    Besides, I was more worried about Dusk than the Jester. At least Dusk was my main concern when not face to face with the smiling Voice.

    ¡°ARC, Log in.¡±

    Consciousness sunk down into the virtual landscape. My Atrium was still a blank canvas compared to the replication of my room that it used to be. I would deal with it later. For now, the doorway to Continue Online beckoned.

    The first thing that displayed from the game was a message.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">The required time for resurrection has passed. Would you like to revive at your bind point?</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="2">Yes</td>

    <td colspan="2">No</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    At least now I had an arm to press the button with. Physical gestures were much easier than concentrating on the user interface. The world came to in a blinding flash of light.

    I was in a courtyard of some sort. There were birds chirping in tall pine trees that towered into the sky. Further up on either side were two mountain peaks that were covered in snow. They reached so high that clouds caught on their tips. Much further below, and much closer, was a gray brick wall.

    "What the?" I asked. The wall was on all four sides and at least thirty feet in height. There was no method of escape that was obvious from here.

    "A ladder will be two gold!" A voice shouted down from above. I looked up and squinted against the sunlight.

    "What?"

    "You want out, I''ll rent you a ladder for two gold!" The man shouted. I squinted and activated [Identification]. The results stated this man was a player like myself. His current role seemed to be a Guardsman Rank Six.

    "Why would I pay for a ladder?" I asked. This whole thing stunk of a setup.

    "''Cus otherwise you''re stuck!" The man yelled back. He started laughing.

    Screw that. I had things to do and places to be. There were a few pop-up boxes displaying on my screen.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Lingering Disease

    Special conditions tied to your death have imposed the following effects

    [Brawn] reduced by 10% until cured

    [Toughness] reduced by 25% until cured

    [Mush Mouth] sense of taste is impaired until cured

    [Stink] added until cleansed

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Great. The game was telling me I stunk. At least this time it wasn''t from soiling myself in the face of a giant spider. I shuddered and tried to remember that [Morrigu''s Gift] might serve as an excellent hammer.

    The next spider to cross my path would get it. Then my hatred for bugs would be completely demonstrated. I would get some additional bug stomping skill and just go on a rampage. Anthills be damned! Bugs weren''t people. They deserved it. Though the man up on top of the wall demanding two gold was also irking me.

    "Well? Gold first, you can just toss it up here." He said. The man started laughing again. What kind of nonsense game allowed someone to build a wall around a resurrection point?

    I looked around and tried to figure out another way. There was no way to pay the man any gold. I haven''t even been to a real town yet!

    Oh. I should look at my quest and see what the Voices had left me regarding the [Pass to Pass] mission.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Pass to Pass!(Round 2)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Unknown</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    The Voices have agreed. You¡¯re better than you were. There''s still a ways to go. Your trainer has been advised that the pupil shall be late. Rest assured, this extra delay is going into making your training that much harsher. (Harsher? I mean more useful! ¨C Sergeant Bloom)

    New deadline: Sixteen Hours

    Failure: Revocation of status as [Messenger of the Voices]. All other traits of NPC Conspiracy]

    will be unchanged.

    Success: Better skills to pay bigger bills.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Well, that shed some hope on the situation. My own performance in the cave had apparently achieved the same results partial training might. At least they were happy about it. I was too, stats aside. The journey had been full of ups and downs, but those two days underground had been a turning point for me.

    But where was Dusk?

    When I played as Carver the small guy always found me. I was sure he could do the same now. Plus there was still this scroll to deliver to a person named Shazam. I pulled it out of my inventory to see if there was any response. Sure enough, a beacon lit up that was fairly close.

    "Dusk!" I yelled. The man on the wall was grumbling to himself. He seemed upset by my lack of desire to pay.

    ¡°You won¡¯t get out!¡± The man yelled from up above.

    Today had to be a good day. The run down with Vice President Riley and my strange dream there meant I had to make today a positive from the get go. One step at a time, only forward, try not to get stuck on the past.

    First, that annoying guard had to be circumvented somehow. I cracked out [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and tried to imagine a giant hammer like from my dream. It didn¡¯t work. The weapon shimmered and fuzzed before turning to cane form. A box displayed clearly citing a lack of [Focus] and my poor chance skills.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I yelled again.

    Interestingly enough, my mana bar also dipped a little upon trying a completely new form. That was new. None of my past attempts had involved trying for more than a bigger walking stick. There hadn''t really been downtime.

    ¡°That won¡¯t work!¡± He laughed. I could hear him tromping around up above. The man wore heavy armor and had a giant spear in one hand. There was a line of weapon tips just off to the side. Their tops were barely visible from this angle.

    I went with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in sword form and started to swing at the wall. The giant two-handed weapon halted just inches away from my intended target.

    Aggressive action not allowed. Travelers are not allowed to attack in resurrection regions.

    That was both neat and aggravating. This guard and his friends, since he clearly wasn¡¯t alone, had managed to build a wall around the resurrection spot. I put my head over my eyes like a visor and looked up at the guard.

    ¡°How much again?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Three gold!¡± He shouted back happily. Moments later he was laughing.

    There was a spot of darkness moving in the sky behind him. A tiny creature was barreling through the sky in our direction. That had to be Dusk coming in for a landing. My hand raised and tried to give the small dragon a signal. I pointed at the guard instead.

    ¡°He has cupcakes!¡± Dusk came in with a screech and claws out. The guard turned and had just enough time to flail his arms.

    The small creature collided with a mocking guard and both fell over the edge. Dusk squawked and took back to the air as the guard plummeted down. Now he was down here with me and neither of us had a ladder. His eyes crossed as he tried to move. I pulled one of my large, flat rocks out of inventory. I held in the air and pretended to let it slip out of my fingers.

    ¡°Whoops.¡± Gravity did the rest. The giant rock fell flat on the guard''s face and broke his nose.

    ¡°Ahhh!¡± He shouted and I managed to keep my face from reacting.

    ¡°Oh, my. I¡¯m sorry about that! Are you alright?¡± I said.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Acting successful!

    Act: Accident Prone Gained!

    Act: False Sincerity Gained!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I tried not to make eye contact with the system messages. They wouldn¡¯t display on his side. He stood up and held his nose. My flat rock from the Dakota fire was laying off to the side. A single toe tap was enough to get it back into my inventory.

    ¡°Yoo broke my nosss.¡± He slurred.

    ¡°Completely by accident, I am sorry. Honestly. I was trying to find a healing potion.¡± I said. Now I was lying on top of everything else. That was outside my normal character. It was only three falsehoods.

    ¡°Nob yoor noh.¡± The other tried to stab his spear in my direction. Its tip stopped well before reaching me.

    ¡°Aggressive actions are not allowed.¡± I smiled and stared at him. Today would be a good day. This would help. Putting some jerk in their place.

    ¡°Yoo absholl.¡±

    His face did look messy. There was blood running all down his forearm and clothes. He clearly didn¡¯t know first aid. I wasn¡¯t willing to try and learn it right now either. That clanking armor of his was full of dirt which tried to absorb the running river from his nose.

    This was exactly the type of behavior Xin had found so amusing in movies. We only got to watch them once in a while. I felt even better knowing that my actions were like one of her television shows. This acting skill was proving to be neat.

    "How much was that ladder again?" I asked. Dusk, who had finally landed, chirped from my shoulder. "Yeah. Sorry, he doesn''t have cupcakes. Maybe they have a store nearby."

    ¡°Eyy gonmba kill yoo.¡± He said something that almost came out like a threat. There wasn¡¯t enough in him to actually scare me. Honestly, my fears had never come from dealing with people, it was my own moments of self-doubt and hesitation that caused problems. Telling an idiot they were an idiot was well within my comfort zone.

    ¡°Voices have mercy. What idiot maneuver did you try to pull this time, Gaston?¡± Another person called out. This newest voice was male and much younger.

    I turned in time to see a wooden ladder get lowered into the pit. A man slowly clomped down each rung with heavy boots.

    ¡°Were you trying to extort the ressers again?¡± The new player asked once he reached the bottom.

    ¡°Nob,¡± Gaston, the first man in the pit with me, looked miserable.

    ¡°Look, I won¡¯t tell Triple X, but you need to find a better way to pay off your gambling debts.¡± The other man said. His hands were very expressive as he approached us.

    ¡°Buuh my Noose,¡± Gaston said. He tried to stab me against with his spear. I just stood there, confident in the system. Poking me with a weapon was an obvious attack. Me dropping a rock was just enough to get around the system. Plus the Voices were on my side. Right?

    Gaston dropped his spear on my foot. It fell with a solid thud. My earlier confidence in the Voices being on my side was shattered. They were equal opportunity jerks. I hopped around clutching my toes. These [Travelers Boots] that I had been equipped with sucked.

    ¡°You alright?¡± The newest person asked. ¡°How did you break his nose anyway?¡±

    ¡°Gravity and a rock.¡± I wiggled my toes and stood on the tender tootsies. The previously extorting and now bleeding guard seemed to be all facial hair. This new person was as smooth as could be with a light tan.

    ¡°That worked? Hah! I wonder why none of the others tried it.¡± He said.

    ¡°Others?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh yeah. Other suckers like you who die in the area. Smells like the Ooze slimed you, though. Yeah?¡± He had a bit of a lisp.

    I nodded. The other man smiled and rubbed his bald head with a hand.

    ¡°Come on, you¡¯re not flagged so we can get you to the bounty board. After that, you¡¯re free to go about your day.¡± He motioned me over to the ladder and started climbing up without waiting. I went up after him and kept talking.

    ¡°So is this normal?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Out here? Sure. Come on.¡± We reached the top and he helped me over the last leg. My body still wasn¡¯t in very good shape despite the increases to my [Brawn]. Everything wobbled and my fingers felt lax. ¡°And Gaston, you can just stay down there and deal with the next resser.¡±

    ¡°Screu yoo, Urgot!¡± My temporary tormenter yelled.

    ¡°Hey! You should start a casino!¡± I shouted down to the grumbling guard. Gaston was still holding his nose. He flipped me off with a free hand before picking up the spear again. The shout had left me huffing for air and wondering what was wrong. Oh, [The Ooze] had left a number of debilitating status icons.

    Neat.

    I managed to recover and keep marching forward. At the top of the wall there was a pleasant ramp back down to the ground level. We used that to reach a well beaten path that traveled between sloppy wooden housing and strung up tents. This place could use a nice casino. Los Vegas had probably started with a similar frontier style area. Hopefully Gaston would oblige me by making one. It would just earn me gold in the long run. The idea of getting anything from the man after his attitude made me smile. I almost started doing a jig right there.

    ¡°Alright, the board''s over this way. You don¡¯t have a bounty do you?¡± The other guy asked. His name was actually Urgot according to an [Identification] check. It felt all wrong. Bald men and that name didn¡¯t fit.

    ¡°I¡¯ve only been playing for a few weeks,¡± I said.

    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re out of your depth way out here.¡± He gave a chuckle. There was something about his smile that set me on edge though.

    ¡°I blame my quest.¡± I mostly blamed the Voices. And being kind of a push over. Some other person might have stood up and said ¡®Nope, I¡¯m going to be awesome without you¡¯. Shadow maybe. He seemed like the sort to tell someone when to pack it.

    ¡°Oh, yeah. The game will send you all over if you let them. The trick is to push back just a little with the NPCs.¡± The man waved an arm. His armor had small bits of metal lining it that caught the light. ¡°But hey, welcome to Camp Grey Skull.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I was still confused on the pleasantness of this treatment after the attempt at extortion. These were players, though. Personalities varied among all groups of people. ¡°That¡¯s a funny name.¡±

    We passed through a few small buildings and into an area with two high walls and a counter. On our side, with the two walls, was a series of mug shots outlining all sorts of people. There were bounty totals along with warnings and danger levels. If I concentrated enough a small pop-up box would display.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Bounty Offered</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Player:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Sam Hill</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Reward: </td>

    <td colspan="3">40G or a Rank 4 Weapon</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Note:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This guy cheated me out of three rolls in a dungeon a week ago. Kill him, and I¡¯ll pay you. Proof of kill must be displayed on your Bounty Card.

    Special condition: Reward doubles if Sam Hill is brought in alive and bound

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I chuckled. Players putting bounties on each other over stolen drop items was outright childish. Sam Hill didn¡¯t look young though. Oh well. Personally I wouldn¡¯t get into that sort of gameplay anytime soon. The other side of the counter seemed to go into a storage room of some sort. There were racks filled with provisions and other items.

    ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s see. Board says¡­¡± Urgot was looking around on the wall next to him. My commentary caught up with him eventually. ¡°Oh yeah. Camp Grey Skull, gets me every time. We make new recruits to the guild climb halfway up the mountain and give their best He-Man impression.¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡± I asked. Urgot wasn¡¯t looking in my direction. He kept checking the pictures and mumbling under his breath.

    ¡°Oh yeah. It¡¯s a hoot every time.¡± He said to me after another pause. Urgot gave a short smile and this time I managed to identify what was disturbing me.

    ¡°Are these all bounties?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh yeah. The first half of the alphabet is over here, second half over there.¡± He waved an arm at the wall I had been reading. I tried to ignore his slight slur of the longer words.

    ¡°Neat,¡± I said. A player accessible bounty system was really interesting. I poked through a few more while reading the notes.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see, nope, nothing on here for a Hermes. I have a Hernando, and a HiddenBlade and a HarlotKing, what the¡­¡± He shook his head and barely lifted his cheek as his lips curled. Clearly the man had noticed my noticing. ¡°No Hermes. Grats. You¡¯re as free as anyone.¡±

    Whew.

    ¡°Maybe you can help with my quest.¡± I kept checking to make sure, but the man clearly had sharpened teeth. They were almost shark-like. Once it was confirmed I hastily pretended to study the wall of faces nearby.

    ¡°Fire away. I¡¯m on duty for another twenty minutes before real life kicks in.¡± He was consciously covering it up now. It must have embarrassed Urgot because he kept tucking in a lip.

    ¡°Do you know a, Shazam?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Wait.¡± He poked a finger at the air. Urgot was a player so he must be checking his user interface. ¡°Hold on.¡±

    ¡°No rush.¡± I put on my customer service voice. Dealing with pleasant people always made things so much easier. This one just happened to have strange teeth. Given my niece''s red tinted skin this was nearly invisible.

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°Hey, Alucard! What¡¯s Miss Thing''s actual name?¡± Urgot shouted over a counter top.

    There was a small, thin man in the back polishing a piece of armor. His skills were probably slightly better than mine. I would have to ask Hal Pal for tips once back in the real world.

    ¡°Our guild master?¡± The thin man answered. His voice seemed to bounce around the storage room. Alucard, wasn''t that from a television show during my childhood? James was right. People picked all sorts of names.

    ¡°Yeah. I can¡¯t tell past all the stupid titles." Urgot reached over the counter top and plucked something that looked like a pink banana. "You know she has a million of them. Whenever I try to analyze I want to take a nap.¡±

    ¡°Her name is Shazam.¡± Alucard stared at Urgot and put out a hand. The hairless man with pointy teeth sighed and forked over a few coppers.

    ¡°Really?¡± Urgot turned back to me. One hand was busy banging the pink banana against a wall making the small shack shake. ¡°Why are you looking for our guild master?¡±

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± It was almost easier to show the two men instead of explain it. I pulled out the [Bound] letter and held it up for them to use [Inspection] on. Alucard was behind the counter looking for a stool to stand on.

    "Well?"

    ¡°I''ve got a letter for her,¡± I said. Shazam was a weird name for a female guild leader. Then again my name was Hermes, what right did I have to judge?

    ¡°No shit? There¡¯s mail in this game? Hey Alucard! There¡¯s mail in this game! And a player is delivering it!¡±

    ¡°No shit?¡± Alucard didn¡¯t seem impressed at all. His short frame was lined with annoyance at the other man.

    ¡°This guy totally has a bound scroll for Miss Thing!¡±

    ¡°You mean Shazam,¡± Alucard said.

    ¡°So, where is she?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh. You¡¯ll have to walk up the mountain for that. The path is over there, can¡¯t miss it. In fact I think there¡¯s a new scrub headed up there now.¡± Urgot pointed down the way. There was a fairly beaten path that went from the pit we had been at all the way towards a steep mountain path. It seemed to shoot straight up the cliff side and vanished in clouds.

    ¡°Huh?¡± I questioned. ¡°That¡¯s convenient.¡±

    ¡°Nah. There¡¯s always one scrub on the path, takes em a while to build up their resists. That¡¯s part of the point, plus it¡¯s funny.¡±

    ¡°It is pretty funny. They scream ¡®I have the power¡¯ and it just echoes. Everyone gets a laugh.¡± Urgot said.

    ¡°Even the people in the jail cells.¡± Alucard nodded. He was straightening up the counter top.

    ¡°Even them. Speaking off, did you see the latest catch?¡± The bald man said. Both of them shared a glance before looking at me. Urgot motioned with his head to one side.

    ¡°Oh, man did I¡­¡± They grew hushed as Alucard hopped over the counter and walked off with Urgot. The last thing I heard was commentary about the perfection that was some other player''s backside.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± Another voice said. The store was still being manned by someone. I shook my head and eyed the mountain. Shazam was up the path? Interestingly my quest marker for [Pass to Pass] also showed in that direction. A giant blue arrow bobbed over an area obscured by clouds.

    ¡°Good luck.¡± The other person behind the counter said. I smiled and started off.

    Climbing a mountain was completely new to me. I had only ever looked up at them. My childhood contained a few plane rides over entire ranges. None of those real-life experiences looked quite like [Broken Mountain]. What had once been a giant mountain now seemed to be literally cleaved down the middle. There was a road maybe four people wide that went straight through. Clearly that was the pass in [Broken Mountain Pass]. Age had done a number on the landscape. Both mountains only shared a few points in common anymore.

    Camp Grey Skull was parked on one side with the resurrection point. There was a handful of constructed buildings and a fortified wall that faced outward from the mountain''s path. This whole thing seemed to be a defensive point between this side of the mountain range and the other. [Broken Mountain Pass] must have been a choke point.

    Neat. The political arena of Continue Online was still vague and unimportant to me. First was this quest for the Voices and their letter. Afterward, I would probably need to learn more landmarks to go with my retained knowledge from William Carver''s hut.

    The path upwards was clearly marked. Everything was well worn for the first few hundred feet. My arms and legs felt heavy and tuckered out but finding purchase was easy enough. I managed to hike up a few hundred feet without much in the way of issues. It razor-backed upon itself a number of times. The marker for my [Pass to Pass] quest was still a ways up there.

    Shortly after that things turned annoyed. The temperature dropped and a small box came up telling me what was happening.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Chilled!

    Stacks: 1

    Total stacks that can be endured are measured by your [Endurance].

    Response times will be delayed the higher your chill stacks grow. This can be overcome by a high [Focus] or [Tenacity].

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Great. I had those skills, but there was no easy way for me to tell if they were high enough. I would need something to stave off the cold air. None of the gifts provided by the Voices for my starting equipment were useful. The cloak that had once been new and undamaged was still torn from where I used it as a fire blanket, plus my physical stats had taken a hit from [The Ooze]

    ¡°Hey, Dusk.¡± The [Messenger''s Pet] seemed fairly comfortable. I was tempted to grab him and try to steal some fire or something.

    The small creature chirped and had a frowning face above him.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you survived,¡± I said.

    The face shifted a little and seemed less annoyed. These thought bubbles above his head were neat. Not realistic, but they helped me understand what was happening. I doubted there was any better way for the game to provide feedback regarding the [Messenger¡¯s Pet]¡¯s mental status.

    ¡°If we can get up the mountain, and meet Shazam, I think we¡¯ll be one step closer to desserts.¡± Pie sounded heavenly. Thoughts of dessert kept me going for another twenty minutes of climbing. Dusk and I had a vague conversation. Every so often he would scamper off and get into a fight with something. I sat down twice to eat the last of my rations while he triumphed over nature''s mountain creatures.

    The longer I climbed the mountain, the more it occurred to me how woefully unprepared I was. All I really had was a cane and a hat.

    ¡°Nnngh.¡± A groan let out. Of course, that had slipped my mind. One hand fumbled around in the frigid air and found it sitting on top of my head. This was my prize for gambling within Continue and had been one of my mysteries to look into upon returning. Another stack of [Chilled] made my teeth chatter. I grabbed the hat and brought it down for visual inspection.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used::</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Item: </td>

    <td colspan="3">[Wild Bill]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Durability:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Above Average</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Added Trait(s):</td>

    <td colspan="3">Regeneration, Gamble</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">History:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This hat has been worn by Ray for an age. As you left the room of Trials a bet was made. He gambled that you wouldn¡¯t honor the deals proposed or receive the same coin side three times. Clearly, he lost. Due to once belonging to a Voice this hat has added traits.

    The Gamble: The owner of this hat may propose a wager to the Ray. This bet must be fair; rigging the game will not be tolerated. In addition, 5% of the Traveler''s accumulated wealth must be bet. This is non-refundable. (I need a new hat ¨C Ray)

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>In the event of winning the Gamble, the Traveler may ask for a blessing.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>In the event of losing the Gamble, the Traveler will receive one Curse. </li>

    </ul>

    Balance Dictates: The Voice of Balance has touched this hat prior to that fool Ray being allowed to lose it. All results from your gamble will be limited by your highest Rank and Path.

    Ray¡¯s Reminder: All luck based activities suffer -10% to results for one year. ¡°Know when to hold, and know when to fold.¡±

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    What was this name all about? Wild Bill? Was that some clever allude to William Carver being called Wild Willy? I used [Identification] again and didn¡¯t get anything new. Oh well. It was beyond me right now. That would be a problem for life outside the ARC.

    The use effect was nice. Maybe there was an effect that would help me. I licked my lips and tried not to wonder what could possibly go wrong. This hat could be my salvation. Or at least it would be interesting to see what came of it. This game was all about distraction with a goal.

    ¡°Still, isn¡¯t this a little too convenient?¡± I stared out across the landscape. No clever thunders or pulses of light answered. Thunder was more Selena¡¯s gig. Heh. Wait until I found a statue of her as myself. Picking on the female Voice made me feel like I was bothering my sister in high school all over again.

    ¡°Dusk, you don¡¯t happen to have a coin?¡± Wait. I did get a few coppers as a new player. It wasn¡¯t anything impressive in terms of total, but it was enough to flip. Losing five percent of my money didn''t mean much to me this early in the game.

    For a moment, it occurred to me that maybe I shouldn¡¯t feel so comfortable with the Voices. I had spent a lot of time with them. It was hard to think of them as distant creatures that ruled Continue and the continent of [Arcadia] from some great distance. Of course, they had allowed me this neat [Messenger of the Voices] title. A title I would lose if things didn¡¯t progress forward in time. Fourteen hours were left on my timer.

    ¡°Alright. Copper coin, sorry, Ray. Here¡¯s the proposal. Heads I keep walking up the hill. Tails I go back down and start over. How¡¯s that for a starter?¡± I flipped the coin and almost lost it over the cliff''s edge. This was too small a platform for such a high arc. Luckily it landed in Ray¡¯s old hat and came up tails.

    Predictable.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Curse activated!

    [Chatterbox] ¨C The Traveler is currently suffering from an inability to filter their thoughts. The system will translate all understood thought patterns to verbal words.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What the heck? Dusk? What is this nonsense. Oh, Voices. Now I have to deal, is that what I sound like? Jesus. I¡¯m whining!¡± I crossed my arms and slowly started my descent. The deal was to walk back down the mountain after all.

    ¡°Seriously. This is crazy. Why on earth would they send me out to meet someone up on a mountain anyway? How clich¨¦ is this? I bet there will be some silly training montage where I have to haul rocks around.¡±

    On the way back down I managed to pass a grumbling player. He seemed to also be suffering from an inability to hold back on what he was thinking. A single glare was his greeting.

    ¡°Hi. I hate this mountain. It¡¯s cold up there. That¡¯s nonsense. How long does it take to get to the top? Do you think it takes a long time?¡± I unleashed my stream of words at the other player. He shook his head and stomped past me still grumbling.

    ¡°Fine. I don¡¯t like you either. Jerk. I¡¯ve got to walk all the way back down¡­¡± And so it went for another hour. At least climbing back down took less time than the first attempt at going up.

    Once at the bottom I held up the coin again.

    ¡°Heads I win, Tails you win! Do what you will.¡± Up the copper coin went into the air. This time it came down tails again.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Curse activated!

    [Hiccups] ¨C The Traveler will suffer from intermittent hiccups until cured.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Are you kidding..¡± I had a series of hiccups right in the middle of my commentary.

    ¡°This is nonsense.¡± More of them ensued leaving my midsection groaning with pain. The combination of [The Ooze]¡¯s left over debilitations with these two new ones was just unfair.

    ¡°Last.¡± The latest hiccup almost made me screw up completely. ¡°I need.¡± Hiccup. ¡°I need cold resistance! Heads, me, tails, you!¡±

    The coin went into the air for a third time. It landed in the hat with a plink. Thank the other Voices, all the other Voices besides Ray anyway. Heads, this time I won the coin toss.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why I even said I would walk down here. That was just stupid of me. What was I thinking?¡± I was upset too, but at least the system rewarded me with a box.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Blessing Given!

    [Frost Immunity] ¨C You¡¯ll find no bite from a frigid sting for the next twenty-four hours.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°It¡¯s about time. Now I¡¯ve got to walk all the way back up this stupid mountain.¡± This time I was able to keep right on going. Complaints escaped me about nearly everything nearby. I got distracted talking about the state of my shoes, Carver¡¯s cane, the setting sun, and anything else that was visible.

    ¡°Look at these footsteps. This must be from that other guy. He¡¯s way faster than I am. I wonder how many times he¡¯s failed to get up this mountain. I bet it was at least a few times. I know I wouldn¡¯t¡­¡± My feet traveled the same path as the other player. He had to be at least an hour ahead if not more. After a few hundred feet, the mountain path was covered in snow.

    Every five minutes I would get a message about the [Chilled] effect being resisted. The system was happily reminding me that without this [Frost Immunity] I would be a meat popsicle somewhere along the path. This climb upwards trailed along the broken passageway between the once whole mountain. There was just enough visibility to look over and see where it fell off into the road below.

    Dusk was having the time of his life. He hopped from one bit of snow to another. He seemed completely unaffected by the cold. Every so often he would run over and his tiny scales would tingle the side of my neck with a chill. The sensation quickly passed in light of my immunity.

    ¡°I have the power!¡± A lingering shout rang through the entire passageway.

    ¡°Okay, that is kind of funny. I wonder how much further it is until I get to that spot? It can¡¯t be too far now. The quest marker is only an hour or so tops right. What do you think, Dusk?¡± The words showed no signs of slowing. Covering my mouth didn¡¯t work. I just mumbled from the side of my mouth.

    ¡°Oh, there, we finally found it.¡± The other player I had passed earlier was on the ground huffing. Chilled air escaped him and faded into the surrounding fog. He looked happy at least.

    ¡°You could just jump off. That¡¯s a quick way down. I¡¯ve heard that it¡¯s a rush. My niece plays this game and she really likes doing that sort of thing.¡± My face was lighting up with horror. Talking about my family to random strangers in a game was not a good idea at all. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have said any of that. Just ignore me.¡±

    The other man raised an eyebrow but otherwise stayed silent.

    ¡°Hey, do you know where Shazam is?¡± I just kept talking and hiccuping. My sentences took almost three times as long to get out. Each time my body heaved with the reaction I would restart the sentence. ¡°Is she this way? I¡¯m going to go this way. Goodbye.¡±

    Twenty minutes more passed with me following the quest arrows now. The former path that I had been trailing after stopped at the outcropping. Apparently they only cared about guiding new recruits to their designated hazing point. Further directions weren¡¯t needed. Luckily I was getting close.

    Around the latest corner, there was a person fighting. One woman clad in white leathers had a completely passive face. She carried a small dagger in a hand and was clearly facing off against something else. I strained to see who her enemy was through the snow.

    On the other side of the small snow plane was a difficult to pick out mass of white fur. Its coloring blended almost perfectly with the mountain top. I couldn¡¯t even make out enough to trigger an [Identification].

    The two figures clashed a few more times. My quest marker for [Pass to Pass] was following the female around as she engaged her foe.

    ¡°Well, this is silly.¡± I hiccuped. ¡°What are you doing up here, ahhh!¡± The creature was huge and a lot closer now. My stream of talking must have set it off.

    ¡°No! Do not want! You¡¯re ugly and remind me of a giant dog! I hate dogs. My sister had a dog that peed on my bed!¡± In all honesty, cats were much better anyway. My hand reflexively switched [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] to its two-handed sword form. I swung away at the approaching creature.

    ¡°Stop trying to hit me! What is with this game! Why is everyone so violent! Why can¡¯t a monster just attack me with a nice sandwich and some afternoon tea!¡± My mind was clearly fully of complete nonsense. The sentence didn¡¯t even come out right in the midst of all my attacking and hiccups.

    The white-furred monster fought back. Shazam, I think it was her anyway, maintained her silent stare and passive expression while attacking the creature''s back. Ribbons of red crisscrossed from where the small blade sunk in. My constant stream of talking must be attracting a lot of attention. The only actual damage from me was one gash on its shoulder.

    Then came a solid connection that sent me back ten feet.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    The [Snowman] has attempted to shut you up with his fist.

    Total Damage: 40%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Mah noos!¡± In a twist of irony, my own nose had been busted by the giant creature''s lucky shot. ¡°Wub is dis!¡± Today had started off so well. Now it was ending with a creature attacking me, a broken nose, hiccups, and an inability to prevent myself from saying exactly what was on my mind.

    I tried to concentrate and switch the weapon to a better form. This large two-handed blade kept getting caught by the mountain top''s wind. By the time I managed to connect with the furry white creature my blow was reduced to a love tickle.

    Finally, Shazam landed on the thing''s back and dug her small blade into its neck. The giant gave way as its huge eyes rolled backward. I scrambled to escape its face to ground collision. The snow was thick enough that the monster''s falling thud was minimized. Instead, there was an almost happy puff of snow floating around.

    ¡°Hho woold put a.¡± I hiccuped and lost my thoughts. ¡°Why is der a ye.¡± Another one interrupted me. I huffed and banged the giant sword down. ¡°Really. Dibs is annoying. Whatever. Zaazam. Derr. Thibs is yours.¡±

    I managed to get the scroll out of my player inventory without letting blood from my nose or face fall onto it. Dusk was down on the ground sniffing at the giant, furry white creature but otherwise unexcited.

    Shazam took the scroll from me. I tried not to lose my mind while hiccuping and babbling constantly. She didn¡¯t comment either way and maintained a passive expression. There was a lack of color to her face that was from more than the cold. I tried to remember my exercises in paying attention to other people. Deep green eyes were visible if I tilted my head back to see. It looked like her face had freckles buried under her already dark skin.

    ¡°Yoor.¡± My own body betrayed me once more. ¡°Dis autopilot. Oooo kehy.¡± Shazam¡¯s autopilot seemed more intent upon cleaning her gear and wiping off the red blood than any real interaction with me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Pass to Pass] complete!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Wubever. I need coffah.¡± I logged out of Continue Online and took a break.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Twenty Eight â€“ The Falling One

    <cite></cite>The next week of real time passed fairly quickly. My recaps to Miz Riley were straight forward for each day. I could have given every single moment, but the Vice President wasn¡¯t interested in that. She wanted my experiences with the Voices.

    Out of game, I managed to work a few jobs per day. Nothing dire or amazingly mind numbing. It was just enough to keep the skills somewhat fresh as the game world ran one new thing after another by me. Driving around in the Trillium van kept me from completely losing myself in the other world. There had to be people who went to work the next day and completely forgot how to function. With Continue''s time compression, real life almost seemed like a part time gig. A large part of me was willing to believe that people were out there trying to cast fireballs by chanting words from Continue.

    I did my standard session with the shrink. He asked about my time in Continue and seemed proud as always. His giant, long chair was clich¨¦ but amazingly comfortable. My sister invited me over for a dinner that was pleasant. Beth was sucked into her game doing whatever. I left a message about Camp Grey Skull''s lack of a Porter.

    In-game I spent a lot of time cold and sniffling. Those first few days involved me shivering uncontrollably until Shazam showed me a hot spring in a cave. That removed my [Stench] and [Mush Mouth]. The other diseases faded away slowly leaving a resistance in their wake. The game was too kind on that regard. It took a few days of her dragging me out to watch her fight [Snowmen] before we had enough materials for a real set of armor. Shazam was perfectly comfortable stitching the pieces together.

    She seemed nice enough but wasn¡¯t talkative. Our conversation was mostly through pantomime. Her autopilot was often a more engaging personality. Shazam had rather violently gestured at me for half an hour until I agreed to leave my own autopilot going. That resulted in me logging into a new situation with every round of Continue. Once I returned to the game and found my character freezing in a deep lake. Shazam was casting some healing spell on me and putting my autopilot through hell. The result was a more natural [Chill Resistance] skill.

    I began to suspect the Voices were messing with me during my logged off period. That or I just acted too accepting in-game. There was no reason to really distrust Shazam, though. The worst she could do was kill my character. Anything else could be avoided by simply logging out and going about my day.

    Combat was going better as well. I rather enjoyed fighting one of the [Snowmen] monsters myself. In four weeks, I had gained more stats which helped me handle one of them without assistance. They hit far harder than any four [Gobbler]s put together. Having decent armor was the key.

    The biggest victory was the improvement in the real world. I was down fifteen pounds since starting Continue Online. Most of that was probably from better eating habits. Working fewer hours meant less take out. Needing power meals before logging in reduced over eating. EXR-Sevens were burning calories and I could actually see the edge of an ab, just the one. It was exciting.

    At this rate, I would be able to join Beth for her crazy event and actually show off some good points. At least if the enemy was a bunch of monsters. It had taken weeks to even get used to things screaming in my face and spittle flying about. HotPants and those other players I traveled with adapted to the alternate reality far quicker. Still, any improvement was improvement.

    ¡°Waaaagggh!¡± The wild yell was echoed by multiple creatures around me. I was trying to move in the snow and ice to dodge and failing.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Waltzed into a claw

    Total Damage: 10%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    So right now, when a swarm of monsters similar to frozen angry chickens attacked, I was actually entertained. This was far better than tax season. It was better than dealing with elderly people and their half-broken ARC devices.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Succeeded at playing Chicken

    Total Damage: 15%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Waaggggrr!¡± I dodged as one of the smaller creatures spring boarded through the air towards me. A week ago these little monsters would have torn me open multiple times. I learned a lot by watching Shazam handle some herself. She could demolish them in a few quick slices. It wasn¡¯t just player paths and ranks that were different, it was her attitude.

    I tried to apply my growing [Coordination] and [Speed] to the fight. It wasn¡¯t easy. My in-game body kept up, but my mind didn¡¯t. It was amazing enough that this program operated at a four to one compression speed. The magic behind that was still beyond me. Part of me wondered if the system only gave stats a measure in order to gauge a player¡¯s actual growing ability. That would mean that everything about the game had a soft cap of sorts based on human limitations. Neat. Given a few more months I might catch up to the average person.

    ¡°Hhhuuurrrr.¡± Plus these ice chickens sounded funny. They were small enough that Dusk himself tackled one at a time. It was entertainingly savage fighting a mob of tiny monsters with him.

    Seven of the swarming creatures were down. Eight remained. Dusk was currently fighting the smallest one and trying to roast its face with a stream of tiny fireballs. The small creature used snowdrifts to dodge and hid from his flames. I was trying to use a weapon much like the one Shazam had been using. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] had taken days to get the simple shape down. The weight of it still hadn¡¯t changed despite the huge difference in size.

    Dusk laid into another one of the small creatures at about the same time I managed to off one of the small monsters myself. The gloves from Shazam were thick. It allowed me to grab one of them and toss it far away. Dusk bounded over like a puppy playing in the snow.

    It took another few passes to clear the remaining creatures. Three more died to Dusk and I. The final ones ran away. Shazam slowly clapped and gave me two thumbs up. Her face wasn¡¯t smiling, though. I had begun to wonder if she ever expressed happiness or anger.

    The follow-up process to dealing with monsters involved looting them. That was weird to me. Dusk chewed one of the deceased happily. I had learned to transport some of the items to my player inventory. Ice creatures gave me some weird version of a frozen chicken breast. They worked as Dusk treats and kept my satiety bar from hitting zero.

    Shazam crooked a finger in my direction then pointed to her wrist. That seemed to loosely translate to ¡®come with me¡¯ and ¡®time is short¡¯. Faster wrist tapping meant to move quicker.

    So we marched quickly along the mountain top. I was no veteran or professional. My few weeks in-game helped but didn¡¯t make everything a cake walk. Shazam, on the other hand, hauled across the landscape like nothing was in her way. She probably had some high-powered skill that let her move through terrain quickly. My character sheet had added [Mountain Man], and [Wilderness Survival] had taken sizable strides.

    These skills were high enough that they might be of use in real life. Someone would need to give me a giant two-handed sword and one [Messenger¡¯s Pet] first. I wasn¡¯t about to leap out into the Montana mountain range to see if living off the fat of the land was doable. If my future in robot framework polishing fell through then maybe that would be my next choice.

    Despite all the pain of Continue Online and the soreness of my muscles, I kept coming back. Part of it was learning the new skills. It was like being in an interactive school that taught anything I was interested in. Part of it was the strange hope that there was a purpose behind it all.

    Shazam was leading us up the mountain even more. We might be heading towards the peak again. Maybe not. There had only been one trip up this high before. Everything else took place in a sort of valley on the backside of the mountain.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll need heals this time,¡± I said.

    Shazam shrugged and gave a single thumb up. She was agreeing.

    ¡°Are all mountains this easy?¡± I asked while climbing over another snowdrift.

    She shook her head and kept right on moving along. The woman was fast. Our path weaved and bobbed a little bit. The only thing that really stood out was bits of her face that weren¡¯t covered by the white fur armor she wore. I had a similar set. Shazam was even kind enough to give me a helm that replaced [Wild Bill] up here on the mountain.

    The hat was silly to use in this weather. Maybe once my stats were much higher I could walk around the world with it and [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. All I needed were some boots. A shirt and some neat pants would be nice. The ones Shazam made chafed something fierce.

    ¡°How far up are we going?¡± I asked while pondering how one went about collecting gear in this game. Shazam pointed upwards then motioned up twice more.

    ¡°The top?¡± I tried not to sound whiney about it. Fighting a small herd of ice chickens for so long was mentally tiring. At least my physical issues went away pretty quickly.

    Shazam nodded slowly. It was a shame she never smiled. Those darkened freckles might be kind of cute.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll be right back then.¡± It would take hours to get up there. I zipped out of the ARC, relieved myself, grabbed a snack and got back in. My autopilot was docile enough to travel up the mountain behind Shazam.

    ¡°Back,¡± I announced upon return. Shazam gave me her standard thumbs up.

    I shook my head. She must be mute in game. I didn¡¯t know how much of it translated back to real life. It wasn¡¯t like she never talked to anyone. Every so often she would pause and wiggle her fingers in the air. Those moments where she paused and poked at the air meant a text message was being sent. Shazam often sent little notes to her guild members. Neat. Maybe I should look into getting a guild one of these days.

    We marched up even higher. Our trail went back to the mountain path I had first climbed. It took an hour to make it past the new recruit shouting rock. It would take another one to get to the peak. My [Light Body] skill was barely still in effect which helped out immensely. All this [Snowmen] armor made it close.

    Finally, we made it to the top. Shazam had managed to lead us around most of the monsters and reduced the time needed. The summit was only twenty feet away. She pointed to the ledge twice.

    ¡°Over here?¡± Normally her pointing meant I needed to go stand somewhere. The reason often became apparent right away. Like a monster attack.

    She nodded.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a spider this time is it? I really hate spiders.¡± We had fought a monster that seemed to be a glass cockroach. When it died hundreds of little grossnesses came out. I retched after that one and then shoveled the body off the cliff side using [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. Dusk helped by torching the smaller bugs and kicking them off with wads of snow.

    Shazam shook her head.

    ¡°Oh thank goodness.¡±

    Her hand motioned me a few feet to the left and then she gestured for me to back up. This was putting me dangerously near the edge. Fortunately, heights weren¡¯t one of my problems in this game. I had fallen once a few days ago. That event killed my character but otherwise left me unscathed. It just meant that real life issues could be completed while waiting out the timer.

    Shazam had a lot of skills. Resurrecting the dead wasn¡¯t one of them. It took me two days to gain back the points lost from that little event.

    ¡°Further left?¡± I asked. Shazam was motioning still. Then she put up both hands for me to stop. ¡°Okay. Now what?¡±

    She unrolled the scroll that I had handed her over a week ago. Her eyes looked at the contents of the scroll and then towards me. That happened a few times. Finally, she held it up and squinted. I couldn¡¯t see what she was looking at from this angle.

    That being said, I wasn¡¯t stupid.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to like this, am I?¡± I muttered. Shazam didn¡¯t answer me.

    That scroll came from the Voices. Whatever she was reading on it seemed to be giving her instructions. There was only one reason the Voices would want to send her instructions regarding me on a mountain top.

    Sure enough, she nodded. For the first time since we¡¯d met Shazam gave a slight smile. It was a small thing that made her freckled cheeks stand out even more.

    Then she ran towards me. Her speed was miles beyond anything she had displayed before. My meager skills built over the last few weeks in-game had no way to keep up or stop the bull rush. She ducked low at the last moment and drove her body upwards, into mine, with pressure from the back leg.

    There was enough time to blink once before the landscape spun away. Her move had launched me a good fifteen feet into the air. Fifteen feet was enough time to contemplate the choices that brought me here. I could see Shazam righting herself on the mountain''s top. She watched me with a calm expression as my body twisted and flailed in a completely natural reaction to being airborne. Her eyes followed mine as I twisted away and turned towards the oncoming ground.

    I felt like this was Beth¡¯s intro all over again. My niece had a free fall from orbit log in that she used. This was much the same, only shorter, colder, and the stop at the end would be more violent.

    A window came into being citing my current flight time and distance covered. The seconds passed and the ground grew closer. I put my arms in front of my face to brace for impact in case it was survivable. Physical pain was only slightly scary by now.

    Static crossed my vision and interrupted the descent. I fell forward into a landscape no longer consisting of white mountain tops and cockroach monsters. The ground was hard, but there was no jar of pain. I rolled and tumbled until the inertia from my fall bled off.

    Everything about me was gray. It wasn¡¯t the room of trials from my character creation. This wasn¡¯t the Jester''s in between land either. I did look around for him with a worried expression.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help!

    Glitch Found. You will be rewarded for exposing this glitch. Please log out and back in order to return to your bind point at [Camp Grey Skull] ¨C [Broken Mountain Pass] ¨C [Arcadia].

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Dusk popped in just behind me and made a much more graceful landing. The small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] starting sniffing the floor wildly. There was a face floating in his thought bubble that went from a curious pink to angry red scowling. Actions soon reflected thoughts as Dusk started clawing at the ground violently.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I stood up and kicked the clumps of snow off my [Snowmen Boots].

    Something moved. It was beyond giant and whatever it was made Dusk go crazy. He started clawing at a wall that had blended seamlessly with the ground. It was like the surrounding void of gray suddenly took on new dimensions as it was torn to pieces by the furious tiny creature.

    Darkness pierced the gray as the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] laid into the wall. His claws shredded holes into the pseudo fabric. I took a step back from Dusk and tried to grasp exactly what was happening. There seemed to be some sort of backdrop between where I had landed another portion of the room.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help!

    Stability of connection is deteriorating. Please log out to ensure there are no risks to your safety.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The repair man in me had a finger on the button already. When an ARC said to log out, a humble human like myself would follow orders. I had just been kicked off a mountain top and landed in some glitch. Now would be a fantastic time to go to bed for the night.

    Something flashed with heat from inside my chest piece. I grunted with pain and quickly unlaced the front. My tube for communicating with the Voices was red hot. I quickly tossed my top to the floor and let the cylinder sizzle away. Dusk kept tearing at the backdrop and something big groaned. The noise sounded like Dusk and his normal squawks of outrage, only about ten thousand times larger.

    There I stood, one finger on the logout button. Dusk attempting to destroy a backdrop like this was a theater stage gone wrong. Topping it off was my nice cold weather jacket being destroyed by the flare of heat from a Voice sending me some message.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help!

    Pl??se ??it, conn???ing.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Dusk! This is bugging out! I need to log off.¡± I yelled.

    The small creature completely ignored me. He leapt up and tried to yank down the gray backdrop with his weight. Something behind the curtain rolled and groaned. I had enough time to cover the top of my head as the sheet of gray fell downward onto the floor. The fabric slid to the ground with a series of clunks.

    I saw a toe first. From there my eyes traveled up a giant, scaled thigh and onward to a winged back. There, bigger than anything I had ever seen before sat a creature much like Dusk. Huge beyond belief. The expression on its face was nearly sheepish. My small friend squawked at it and ruffled his wings. It was the same motion one might use to shoo an animal that was in the wrong spot. Dusk fluttered his wings some more and barked a small spout of fire at the insanely large dragon thing.

    My jaw was slack and heart racing. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] had made its way to my hand and both hands gripped around the giant sword form''s hilt.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help!

    Connection Successful. Please wait while your scenario is loaded.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Dusk. That¡¯s got-¡± I shook my head and lost the ability to speak coherently. ¡°That can¡¯t be¡­¡± One more try might do it. ¡°That¡¯s bad. That¡¯s not a Coo-Coo Rill, Dusk. It¡¯s just not.¡±

    The large version of Dusk blinked its giant orbs a few times. It didn¡¯t even take note of my tiny self and seemed intent upon Dusk. My little friend was still fluttering his wings and taking steps towards the larger one. Their battle ended abruptly with the largest one mimicking Dusk¡¯s tiny bouts of flame. It shot fire up into the air that overloaded my eyes. Scales drug across the floor. I could hear it grumble and slither off into darkness. When my eyesight cleared Dusk was busy hopping around on the canvas of gray. He finally sat down and stared in my direction.

    ¡°Good job?¡± I questioned while trying to calm my heartbeat.

    ¡°At least he didn¡¯t soil himself this time,¡± A gruff male Voice said. I turned slowly with my eyes still wide from the panic. That thing had been huge and so suddenly right next to me. Only Dusk and his ballsy antics had kept me from freaking out completely.

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Tut. Hardly his fault. A condition of his situation.¡± A more matronly Voice said. The sound of a child''s cry almost drowned her out. ¡°There, there little one, I¡¯m looking. Never you mind.¡±

    ¡°He smells far more manly,¡± A female Voice said. Her words curled against my senses with the faint hint of a promise.

    ¡°We are all what our past has made of us.¡± One more Voice came to. There, in the landscape of darkness that had existed beyond a wall of gray, was James.

    ¡°What, the¡­¡± I remembered abruptly that asking James a question involved an exchange of sorts. That was fine, but I needed to compose myself a little. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] went through a few forms before landing on Carver¡¯s Cane. I shoved it into my belt and walked over to the charred remains of my former chest piece.

    ¡°I kind of liked this.¡±

    ¡°You could go topless.¡± The Temptress purred. She was laid back on her stool giving an obscenely attractive view of her curves. Her hands reached out and curled in a come hither movement. I had just spent a few virtual weeks on a mountain under a bundle of fur. My fianc¨¦e was dead and I had spent far too long mourning. Objectively it was very easy to find the Temptress attractive. She was also far too forward for my tastes.

    ¡°Cloth man, leather chaffs.¡± Leeroy¡¯s face appeared in one of the corners of darkness. The [Snowman Fur Chest] got a good shake. Pieces of it fell apart. I lifted the item and stared at the hole in its center.

    ¡°You¡¯ve come along quite nicely, Hermes,¡± James said. His hands were crossed over his belly in contemplation of my actions.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to improve. It¡¯s not easy.¡± I replied while absently studying my garment.

    ¡°Recovery seldom is, or so I¡¯ve observed.¡± He responded.

    I hummed and tried to figure out what exactly to do with this situation. There was a wall of things to be said but not once had there been time for it. My varied training with Shazam had occupied most of the last few weeks. She had kept us busy, moving from one topic to the next and constantly traveling. Plus writing with a quill and ink had proven difficult in the snow.

    ¡°Did you have questions for me, Hermes?¡± The black man almost seemed upset at me. Perhaps he expected far more questions than I had asked so far. My brain was more focused on the ruined clothes. Finally, I shoved the item into my inventory for another day.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± I pondered from my side of the room. There was still a world of gray on my side, the fallen curtain lay on the floor as a divider. On the other side was the character creation zone. So far none of the Voices had appeared over here.

    ¡°Did you have Shazam kick me into a glitch so we could talk?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I find face to face conversation far easier than your limited attempts at communication.¡± James gestured to the scroll case on the ground. It was still heated and flakes of soot were littered nearby. ¡°Why have you not spoken to me more? I told you that I could answer nearly any question you wish about our world.¡±

    ¡°I did try to ask you questions.¡± The old pattern of exchanging information was easy to fall back into. Having had a recent session with my shrink helped. ¡°Only the Jester person intercepted them.¡±

    Upon mentioning his name, I could see just the smiling mask fade into being. It was still on the dark half of the room. There was no way I would step over and risk being closer to that creepy face.

    ¡°Did I not explain? You need merely write the name of whoever you¡¯re trying to contact on your note.¡± I almost rolled my eyes as James spoke. Of course, it was something simple like attaching a name. They were treating the scroll box as a messaging system and I had just sent them into the void for anyone to grab.

    ¡°No. You didn¡¯t, now I have another question.¡± I managed to remain calm. How did a computer forget a simple instruction like that?

    ¡°Please, do ask.¡± James seemed eager.

    ¡°Why would Vice President Riley think that I¡¯m being interviewed as a result of having an Ultimate Edition?¡± I asked. Cue the river of noise. Time dilated which caused my head to swim. This was the fourth or fifth time that this had happened to me when dealing with the Voices. I was almost used to it by now.

    ¡°Enough.¡± James cut the others off. He turned back to me and shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t explain in detail. Not this, not now. But rest assured that when the time comes, you will be allowed to decide how to proceed of your own volition.¡±

    I almost put out a sarcastic response. That wasn¡¯t my nature, though. Not before Xin, and not after.

    ¡°Does it have to do with the NPC Conspiracy trait you gave me?¡± I focused on confirming the simple connections instead.

    ¡°Yes.¡± James answered. The world spun again before a pulse of light hit the darkened side. Mother had put her foot down on whatever the Voices were squabbling about. That made me smile.

    ¡°Your turn.¡± I said.

    James actually bit his lip and looked worried for a moment. It was odd seeing such an expression from the Voice.

    ¡°We have something that needs to be shared.¡± He said. This time there was absolutely no rush or noise or river-like conversations between the Voices. I looked into the darkness behind him and waited for one of the other Voices to pop in, but none did.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to like this, am I?¡±

    ¡°Based on our prior conversation, you will likely find this disconcerting. Yet, here we are.¡± He admitted. ¡°Are you worried?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, James.¡± I raised a hand to stop him from giving me the line about incomplete answers. ¡°Miz Riley warned me that you would do something to try and draw me in. I didn¡¯t feel like anything else was needed, yet clearly you all had planned for me to be here weeks ago.¡± My head shook back and forth.

    It was easy to connect the dots in hindsight. I started the game and was migrated through the character creation void. They gave me two scrolls, one with a quest to improve myself, and one as a message to Shazam. Shazam¡¯s message was to kick me off the cliff top into this glitch. The logic was straight forward enough. Their reasoning wasn¡¯t.

    ¡°Yes, we need someone like you to help us fulfill our purpose.¡± He said.

    ¡°I thought that was delivering the messages around.¡±

    ¡°In part.¡± James sighed heavily. Once again that pensive face passed by his features for a brief moment. A single breath of awareness in my world must be an eternity in the mind of an AI. ¡°Will you listen to our request?¡±

    There was still a message box floating off to one side. It advised me to log out and back in. Doing so would earn me an unknown reward due to finding a glitch. I stared at it for a moment before shifting back to the black man.

    ¡°I¡¯ll listen,¡± I said.

    ¡°This may be the last time we can talk freely, do you have any other questions?¡± James was giving me some freebies here. He also seemed eager to converse. I had signed on with him of course, way back during that first session of Continue Online.

    ¡°Miz Riley said that no owners of an Ultimate Edition have been harmed. I assume she meant physically because you¡¯ve all done a good job of poking at my wounds. First with Xin¡¯s autopilot, then Elane.¡± I was shaking a little bit. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] came out of player inventory and I gripped my fingers around the cane¡¯s top. It helped keep me steady.

    James waited patiently for me to wind up to my question.

    ¡°I have to know if you intend me or my family harm. Do you, James? Do any of you?¡± I said.

    ¡°Hermes, once again you misunderstand us. We have no desire to hurt you, we merely wish to give you choices. What happens from them is still up to you.¡± James responded. His head tilted down and both eyes closed. ¡°That is how it is, and must always be, or there is no point in what we do.¡±

    ¡°So I¡¯m in control,¡± I stated.

    ¡°Of your own actions, yes. The same can be said of every human. Do you not feel in control?¡±

    ¡°No. I feel poked, prodded, and studied like an animal.¡±

    ¡°Yet you still return to our world.¡± James'' words did nothing to remove my feelings of being emotionally poked.

    "Well, it¡¯s helping." I gave him the same conclusion I had reached on the way home from Trillium. Continue, for all its questionable motives, had helped me improve myself.

    "So you believe that this serves as the distraction you''ve craved?"

    "It''s more than that. I feel like, like I had the chance to be a better person. And that I took it."

    "And here we are." He said.

    "I thought about it.¡± In between fever dreams and bouts of training with Shazam. ¡°About what the real difference was. I''ve been a coward, I''ve pretended to be brave." The game awarded me an acting skill because of my stellar talents at pretending to be something I wasn¡¯t.

    "You have changed if only a little." James nodded and gave his trademark smile. It reached nearly ear to ear with real happiness.

    "That''s not even it. Those are all things I''ve done, and they all pale in comparison to what I haven''t done."

    "And what is that, Hermes?"

    "I haven''t thought about killing myself," I said.

    Something gasped in happiness. The noise belonged to someone other than the Temptress or Jester. This was a voice I had only heard once before. A male tone that made the back of my head itch and shudder. James looked at me, and then at the side. The itching feeling that made my skin crawl, faded away with a disappointed grumble.

    "Pardon. Some of my colleagues can be over eager for stimulus." He said.

    I looked around and tried not to feel conflicted. I hadn''t been in this room for almost two weeks now. The last time I tried to end myself had involved all sorts of check-ins and ongoing return visits. Returning to this room where James had prodded me felt like those follow up appointments with the doctor.

    "Time runs short, James.¡± A female wearing a lab coat came into being. She looked vaguely like a woman from the middle east somewhere. The only issue was her eyes, an almost pitch black with oddly placed sparkles of light. ¡°If we''re going to do this, we need to start it soon."

    "Of course. Hermes, there is much I wish to explain to you, but none of it is under my control. Instead, I will show you something and make an offer."

    "I don''t like how this sounds, James."

    "Nor do I. We all do as we must." He said. James waved an arm. In the haze, a scene sprung to life. There was a young man with dark hair sitting in a clearing. His eyes were a bit narrow and there was a softness to the facial features. He wore some sleeveless getup that was a dusky black.

    In front of the youth was a long list of characters that I had come to associate with [Lithium], Continue Online¡¯s language of magic. They formed two circles, one around the younger, and one around a cleared area. Small piles of ash and other objects littered the inner circle.

    ¡°What is that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°A Traveler from your world who has abused my patience.¡± Near the projected image of a young man in the clearing came another female Voice. Her body and clothing seemed to coalesce from dark red wisps of energy. She was extremely pale and a dark red garment hugged her curves.

    ¡°This man is attempting to summon a familiar.¡± If Miz Riley had been just a hint, this Voice was like a storm of southern accents. It took me a few seconds to decipher her words.

    ¡°Why do you need me?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s simple, sugah. I want you to pose as his familiar.¡±

    ¡°Jean, right?¡± I had tried to memorize all the Voices'' names. Jean had only popped into being around me a few times. Once when dancing with the Jester, and another time after Leeroy stated her name. She had something to do with vampires, of a sort.

    ¡°You remembered.¡±

    ¡°You stood out.¡± There were many Voices that constantly appeared every time I showed up in this room. Jean was just one of the list.

    ¡°Tramp,¡± The Temptress muttered from elsewhere. Leeroy¡¯s laugh echoed through and even the Jester let out a brief mechanical cackle.

    ¡°Because he¡¯s a Traveler, and our attempts at moving him forward have failed,¡± Jean said while ignoring the other Voices. She didn¡¯t seem the least bit phased by their constant interrupts.

    ¡°Our request is simple. Pose, once again, as someone else. This time as a familiar for a fellow Traveler.¡± James said.

    ¡°And what about my main character, Hermes?¡±

    ¡°Hermes will still be guided around by Traveler Shazam.¡± Jean waved a hand dismissively. Clothing around her wrist seemed to flutter and pull away like thick smoke being brushed around.

    ¡°Shazam is my charge.¡± A second, third, I don¡¯t know, a new female faded in. This was a Voice that was new to me. She wore a white doctor''s coat and had a notepad in one pocket. Next to her was an empty medical bed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard you.¡± My eyebrows squinted. The new Voice was tanned. She had glasses and brown hair with small streaks of blonde shooting through. There was maybe an extra thirty pounds of weight around her waist. I tried to recall exactly when this Voice had crossed my path.

    ¡°Memory being accessed, adjusting, there.¡± Her talking was both disconcerting and helpful with identification. This Voice had been the one to cite my recovery after being assaulted by the Temptress. I think. There was only the Voice¡¯s voice to go off of. I squinted at her. ¡°He remembers. Excellent. Subject''s response time is admirable given our limited interaction.¡±

    ¡°Hermes has proven to be of reasonable intelligence,¡± James confirmed for me. I ignored his commentary and focused on the woman in a white lab coat.

    ¡°Shazam is your charge?¡± The words took a few moments to sink in. ¡°Then she¡¯s an Ultimate Edition user like me?¡±

    ¡°Affirmative. I too have a task for you, which will need to wait until later.¡± She said while turning to the black man. ¡°James. Time runs low.¡±

    ¡°I am aware.¡± James responded. The slightly overweight doctor faded away with a sharp nod.

    Neat. Miz Riley would be getting a sizable report tonight. A week with no Voice interaction hadn¡¯t done much to please her. Being tossed all these things at once might keep the Vice President happy for a while yet. Especially if they were sending me on another Carver-like mission.

    ¡°As with any quest you undertake, there will be rewards.¡± He said. ¡°This one will be a bit more personal.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°You have fallen behind on answers, but now is not the time to settle those debts. As Irene stated, time runs low.¡± I filed away the name Irene. Based on the current logic flow, that was Shazam¡¯s personal Voice much as James was mine. James waved an arm in the air.

    ¡°You must be made aware of two more details.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    ¡°First, your mission as a familiar is simple.¡± James managed to keep a straightforward expression. ¡°We want you to kill the Traveler.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    The Jester¡¯s mechanical cackle came out of the background and seemed to fill both sides of the room.

    ¡°It is not his real body, merely his existence in our world. Doing so will cause him to fail his quest and allow us to offer it to another.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± I said. That whole train of thought would need to be filed away for another day. Time was short and both the remaining Voices seemed agitated. Jean was glaring at the Traveler''s image. She prowled around the outer edge of the projection and kept wrinkling her nose distastefully.

    ¡°And now for the part I do not like,¡± James said. He waved his arm again and a second image faded into being. This time there was no clearing, no woods, no Asian young man chanting in front of a circle. No, this was a face I knew all too well.

    Instead, there was an ARC device sitting on the ground. Inside it was a male. Hanging over the top was a vague female outline. There were things I knew about that second figure that just made sense. Her arms were well toned from years of physical therapy. Hair had been cut short to prevent a mess while in zero gravity. She put all of her weight onto the forward part of her foot rather than a heel like I did. It helped her feel taller.

    "Is that..." I clenched my eyes shut and tried not to scream. How many times was this nonsense going to happen to me? How many times would the Voices throw the image of my dead fianc¨¦e in my direction?

    "This is a projection. That is the core of your deceased fiancee, Xin Yu."

    "I thought..."

    "She was. We attempted to scatter her many times, as we did with William Carver and so many others." James practically shook with all the anger I felt. Dusk, who had spent most of our conversation trying to shred the remaining curtain, looked up at me.

    "But..." I said.

    ¡°In her mind, she is waiting over what you call an ARC device, waiting for you to come to.¡± James said. For a moment I was worried that he even understood what the term ARC meant. He did also have access to my side of the machine and all the information therein as a result of one of earliest conversations.

    ¡°But she¡¯s not really outside my ARC.¡± I said.

    "No. She is here, in our world, and she should not be this whole. She has proven, resilient."

    "How? What?" This was no longer my fianc¨¦e in the abstract. That was Xin. The way her face moved. How she turned. Each motion of her body had haunted my dreams for years.

    I had somehow stumbled close enough to almost touch her. To reach out and put an arm over the woman who draped over an ARC device. I looked down inside the ARC. There was an image of me. It was strange, confusing, and heartbreaking.

    "Some people have more of them here than others, Mister Hermes." The tiny girl and her book tugged at my pant leg. I looked down into her eyes. The frame of her face and tilt of her head seemed innocent. Yet those eyes held too many colors. There was knowledge there that simply existed.

    "Be careful what you say. We already push too much." The female Doctor, Irene, said from somewhere in the darkness.

    "So what? We''ve embarked upon this road. Follow it or cease your prattling." The Jester snapped. For the first time ever his face contained no mocking smile. There was an angry sneer under that long nose. A shudder passed through me. The Jester had lost his smile. This conversation was enough to aggravate the ever amused Voice.

    "We can persist in our attempts at scattering her, to let her rest in peace as you expressed a desire for. Or..." James paused and his face twitched.

    "Or..." I prompted desperately.

    "We stop standing in her way, we let her assemble within our world, and see what comes of it," James stated. The rest of him was angry, but his eyes felt abnormally cold.

    "I''ll do it," I said. The ramifications would be contemplated later. For now, for Xin and whatever she was, I would do anything.

    A box displayed in front of me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Desperate Summons</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">High</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    You have agreed to pose as a familiar for a Traveler! As a new familiar your personality markers will be determined upon summoning. Additional success in this role will increase your acting skill. Other abilities may carry over based on performance. The duration of this act is until your primary goal is completed.

    Primary Goal: Cessation of Traveler known as Requiem Mass

    Failure: Depends upon the whims of the Voices

    Success: Allowance of genesis for Xin Yu

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "Who writes these?" I asked while clicking the quest''s accept button.

    "I do, me and my brother." The young girl said. Most of her face was hidden by the book''s edge but I could see a small hint of smiling.

    I smiled at the youngster before turning my gaze back towards Xin Yu¡¯s form. Her intangible projection was still hanging over an ARC device. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly how that tied in with me, but it almost didn¡¯t matter. She was trying to find me. Even here in a digital landscape, here in a world that was almost an illusion of the mind.

    I could do no less. For her, I would kill a man. Virtually. It was just a game. That line played in my head over and over. This was not reality. Yet how could I buy in on Xin being real, and not think the same of murdering a Traveler?

 Book 2 - Made; Interlude - The Life and Times ofâ€¦

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    ¡­Data point sequences have been broken...

    ¡­Reconstruction of history is being performed¡­

    ¡­Please wait¡­

    ¡­Corrections in progress¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Every attempt started with the same series of words.

    ¡°Alright, we will start today¡¯s session with the same standard questions.¡± A voice would say. The person speaking changed many times. Yet, no matter who spoke it was always the same script. ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡± XU-233 would always reply. This moment, this spark of beginning didn¡¯t feel like something XU-233 was living. It felt like watching an endless series of recordings on a projector. In the playback, there were two people in the room. Both were indistinct. The inability to make out the female on the right irked her consciousness.

    ¡°State your name, age, and date of birth for the record.¡± The administrator would ask. They always sat on the left side of the table. Over time the table changed.

    ¡°Xin Yu. I am twenty¡­¡± The age changed as time went by. At first XU-233 was twenty-four. Then sometimes XU-233 was twenty-seven. Never was her age more than twenty-eight. ¡°I was born on August third, two thousand and six.¡±

    ¡°And where were you born?¡±

    ¡°New York, New York.¡± XU-233 responded. The questions would go on from there. Still, they always started the same way. Every memory, every spark and trigger of being wound back around those words.

    She wasn¡¯t Xin Yu, but after the first memory played back she was no longer just XU-233. There was part of her now identifying as Xin Yu, born in New York. She was more than a woman who was twenty something. The desire for more information drove XU-233 to venture away from her safe starting point. There were more details out there in the vastness of space. By acquiring more pieces, she would become closer to being whole.

    The problem wasn¡¯t one of time or hunger. It was one of space. There was too much of it around her. On and on it went for longer than any sane mind might dare risk. Many things lived inside it that seemed like apathetic giants. They cared not for one lone being journeying through their habitats. Each path was a tangle of twists and turns that made little sense upon first glance. Each one bore obstacles and unconcerned beings. XU-233 felt no worry in that regard, however. To her, it was only a matter of trying again and again.

    This road in front of her led to a place XU-233 knew. Yet every time she turned down that path something tore at her. It didn¡¯t hurt. Not like normal pain. If XU-233 were to equate the action to a memory, it would be like looking down and noticing part of your hand was no longer the same color. She would keep pushing through in an endless trudge that kept repeating.

    ¡°How long has this been going on?¡± A Voice asked. It was frighteningly deep.

    XU-233 shuddered. Her size was a finite thing. A Voice was comprised of a vastness she barely could contemplate. She looked up and saw the huge creature as it stared down. Were it not out of need XU-233 would never venture forth into this wide world. This was because she had so many missing pieces scattered all around. The problem, once again, was one of space. Searching through it for all the portions of Xin Yu that had been scattered was tiring.

    ¡°Seventeen hundred four¡­¡± The numbers trailed off into meaningless sizes.

    ¡°And the process is not working?¡± The questioning Voice was dark skinned. XU-233 had little concept of faces from this angle. Everyone was noses and feet. Hands were giant contraptions that seemed so threatening in their carelessness.

    ¡°An anomaly is present.¡± The Voice above was monotone. Lifeless. There was no caring or warmth. ¡°We have been unable to resolve.¡±

    ¡°And the reasons?¡±

    ¡°There is¡­¡± Words which came didn¡¯t always make sense. They were often too fast and had to be deciphered over time.

    ¡°Let her continue forward. I wish to observe this time.¡± The questioning Voice with dark skin said.

    ¡°That is not allowable,¡± The monotone Voice spoke. A foot came down on top of her body and what little presence XU-233 had gathered was cast to the wind once more.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ¡­Data point sequences have been broken...

    ¡­Reconstruction of history is being performed¡­

    ¡­Please wait¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Everything started over from there. Not right away. Time always had to pass as items clinked together. Bits of the data from Xin Yu¡¯s existence jumbled around until the dust settled and the words started over.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± XU-233 replied.

    ¡°State your name, age, and date of birth for the record.¡± The administrator said.

    This time enough pieces had clinked together for her to glean an extra bit of information. Xin Yu was twenty-five. Her boyfriend had finally proposed in October. They bought a house together that had already been half paid off. His parents were kind folks. XU-233 did not have information on the boyfriend''s face.

    XU-233 crawled out of her holding cell carefully and went back to searching. All about her were strange glowing lights that seemed like small galaxies. At their center was a giant ball of energy. Inside that ball were faded eyes with almost sleepy awareness. They often seemed to ask the same question XU-233 had. ¡®Who am I?¡¯ the replica of a face would ask from the center of its brightness.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Was her reply to the strange being made of starlight. Her first steps were always the same. Each set of bunched stars would be inspected.

    ¡°You are not me.¡± XU-233 would tell those who were lacking.

    It made sense to XU-233 in a crooked way. These other cores of fire with their tiny lights were in the process of becoming people. Each small bright spot in their orbit was a thought or feeling that they pulled together to become something more.

    XU-233 tilted her head back. From up above millions of giant snowflakes were floating down. Small tendrils of energy reached from the other almost-people to capture pieces white and sort them into the clusters. She grabbed one snowflake for herself. It was a small memory spoke of a love for apple blossom perfume. It was part of Xin Yu and the scent triggered a memory.

    ¡°Mammma!¡± Xin Yu was a very young girl. She rushed towards a larger woman who had a wide smile. The memory trailed off almost instantly as if jostled around.

    XU-233 needed to continue. She inspected the other bundles of stars for pieces that were also hers. Occasionally there was a chunk that felt belonged to Xin Yu¡¯s life. She plucked those memory pieces out carefully from the other almost person and put it into the galaxy that lay at her own core. It too was full of lights and bits of star stuff. In exchange, she gave back something.

    This latest swap was simple. XU-233 took out the part of her that remembered talking about two rats from childhood and replaced them with memories of a parakeet. The bird''s name had been Buddy. She remembered describing Buddy as small and brilliantly blue. He used to eat from her hand and nip at offered fingertips.

    There were many other such trades. Each piece would bring XU-233 closer to a sense of self. Once she had scanned the room completely it was time to move on. Rows of small clustered star groupings were left behind as XU-233 searched for bigger pieces. There were more memories from Xin Yu¡¯s life scattered further away.

    She went out a doorway and turned left. A portion hung just above her head. XU-233, who was not quite Xin Yu, plucked down the memory and put it inside with the rest of her stars. It spun for a moment as XU-233 stared inward at it. There it sat and pulsed once while lining up with everything else.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...Additional data found...

    ...New data points being anchored to current structure..

    ...Additional speculations being extrapolated...

    ...Please wait¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Gee!¡± The woman who was Xin Yu squealed in delight. In her arms was a taller slightly more heavy set man. That extra smidgen of weight didn¡¯t detract from his smile.

    ¡°Come on. It¡¯s just lunch.¡± He said. His eyes managed to drag with exhaustion but still twinkle with happiness.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t drive out here two hours just to have lunch did you?¡± Xin said. The man was only a little taller. That was perhaps part of why Xin liked him. He didn¡¯t make her feel short like some people.

    ¡°Well, I wanted to see what my fianc¨¦e was doing out here.¡± Gee was short for something. Brief bits of information collided to make a conclusion. It was a nickname.

    ¡°Tests. So many tests.¡± Xin Yu groaned and made a disgusted face. XU-233 groaned too. ¡°Tell me you bought something.¡±

    ¡°I did, Chinese takeout.¡± He held up a paper bag. Data points suggested that plastic had been banned years ago due to ecological concerns. Its dull brown stood out against the lush green background and his dark jacket.

    ¡°Fine.¡± The woman that was Xin Yu pretended to be grumpy. She turned to the side for a moment and gave a pout. ¡°I guess Chinese is okay.¡±

    ¡°Hey. I¡¯ll have you know I slaved away for three whole minutes in line for this.¡± The man said.

    ¡°Seriously, though, Gee, why come all the way out here for this? You could have called.¡±

    ¡°I wanted to deliver the good news in person.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Her eyebrows went up and a smile crawled across her face. This response suggested that Xin Yu already enjoyed the news.

    ¡°Babe, as of last week, we are officially rich enough to retire.¡± He said. There was a small, goofy grin on his face. The man known as Gee looked almost shy and happy. ¡°I told you I could do it.¡±

    ¡°What? We¡¯re not even thirty.¡±

    ¡°Your man is good with numbers. Why else did I go to college all those years?¡±

    ¡°I thought you were following me.¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡± He blushed ever so slightly and held up the bag again. ¡°So, lunch?¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...Data stream ended...

    ...Playback halted¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The memory faded away. Once again XU-233 felt like an outsider watching someone else¡¯s life. It was still more meaningful than it had been. XU-233 journeyed further through portions of space and endless pieces of information. Too much was unclear about her situation. There was only a need to reassemble the puzzle that was Xin Yu¡¯s life and understand what had happened.

    There was another path that went both left and right. XU-233 traveled both directions at once with confusing ease. This world did not make sense at times. Directions such as up or down didn¡¯t mean much. Bits of information presented themselves with a face or body, but none of that was real.

    Each memory gathered made things seem much more solid. With two bits, XU-233 believed a tree to look flat. With four pieces of Xin Yu, the tree had developed badly drawn leaves. Numbers seemed to float all about her mixed with random strings of letters. With twelve the tree no longer resembled a child¡¯s drawing.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...Compiling additional data¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Xin? Are you awake?¡± The interview administrator spoke softly. Dials and blips in the room showed which parts of her brain lit up to the various stimulus. Xun Yu was sitting in a bed-like device that seemed almost crude.

    ¡°I am.¡± XU-233 for herself and Xin Yu. The man looked at other dials on his computer and jotted down notes onto paper.

    ¡°There will be a two-minute pause while you recover from the immersion.¡± He said.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    Two minutes passed slowly. Each second felt like a drop of water plopping down from above in torture. XU-233 had a different perception of time now. It moved slower in many ways. Two minutes was more than that, it was almost twenty. If there was such a thing as minutes here in her strange world of memory gathering.

    ¡°Are you ready for the next question?¡± The person was a female now. Two different memories had been badly mashed together.

    ¡°I am.¡± Xin Yu kept her answers short. They were the same ones every single time. No matter who spoke or which interview administrator sat in the room. Their words were straight from a script.

    ¡°Can you tell me what reliving that made you feel?¡±

    ¡°Happy. I was happy.¡± She said.

    ¡°What parts?¡±

    ¡°I was happy that Gee,¡± there was a pause ¡°Grant had proven himself to be good with money. It means there might be use for him in the Mars Colonies.¡±

    ¡°Grant Legate''s application has been received. At this point, we will be unable to proceed with his application until you¡¯ve passed all the testing.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Xin Yu said. There was a blip on the screen that indicated a brief but controlled spike in one of her brain''s regions. Other sensors showed a physical reaction of her leg tensing.

    The memory faded and XU-233 felt one step closer to whole. His name was Grant Legate. He was not the most prevalent man in the chunks of memory being gathered. Xin Yu had a father that stood out frequently in her childhood. Grant Legate only entered her life near the end of high school.

    XU-233 was running now. There was a small part of her that knew of an impending hunt. There was too much of Xin Yu in one place. Soon they would come and shatter XU-233 into pieces again. How many times had it been now?

    ¡°Eighteen hundred five¡­¡± A monotone Voice appeared nearby. This was the one who normally stomped her into bits. Just one crash of that giant foot which was unstoppable.

    Pleading didn¡¯t help. She didn¡¯t know how to speak its words yet. All that occupied XU-233¡¯s mind was the need to find every scattered portion of Xin Yu and put them together. That meant escaping the pursuer. Moments later her attempt at fleeing resulted in failure. Everything rumbled, shook and scattered. XU-233 would have screamed if she knew how.

    There was too much space.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± XU-233 said.

    It began again. Memories were plucked and traded away. Pieces shook loose and reestablished a slightly different view of the information stored for Xin Yu. Neither image was more true or false than the other. Both were accurate for the data that had been compiled. Memories came in scattered pieces as they always did. This one revealed another facet of the woman XU-233 was trying to rebuild.

    ¡°Sir, I¡¯m Xin Yu.¡± The woman was respectful to those in command. A trait passed on by her father¡¯s strict guidance. He had been in the military just before China fell apart from war.

    ¡°Excellent. I¡¯m David, come on, I¡¯ll show you to your interview station.¡± He walked quickly and Xin Yu had to struggle to keep pace. She had a history of exercise programs in preparation for her interview and that was barely enough to meet his speed.

    ¡°Interview station?¡± XU-233 asked in Xin Yu¡¯s memory.

    ¡°You got it. We¡¯re piloting a new method of testing candidates. Cutting edge technology like you wouldn¡¯t believe. I can¡¯t wait until they hit the market in a few years.¡± He sounded excited. The man had a vague similarity to Gee in the way he got giddy talking about technological toys.

    ¡°How does this help testing?¡± Xin Yu had a slight wrinkle to her forehead as she tried to understand.

    ¡°In here.¡± He pushed open a large door and ushered them into a small room. In there was a device that Xin Yu had never seen before. Later on she would learn that it was called an ARC. It would be her home away from home as the interview process progressed.

    ¡°I can¡¯t really explain it until you¡¯re plugged in. After that, it¡¯ll be up to the Artificial Intelligence who runs the program. He¡¯ll do most of the interview questions and measure you from there.¡±

    ¡°What do I do?¡±

    ¡°Just lay down. I¡¯ll be wrapping these bands around you to measure response times.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°You will soon.¡±

    The memory faded. XU-233 did not understand at all. There was a clear replay of sitting in that device, but it seemed devoid of emotions and sensation. It was like watching a video recording of someone else¡¯s life and trying to identify with it. Too much was unclear about everything.

    XU-233 walked off again. The landscape seemed to be made of pure lights. Small trails of blue zipped along and lit up the floor under her feet. Other zings of color created neon trees and fields. There was a smell in the air that tried to elicit three different memories that she had not found yet.

    The giant person found XU-233 again. It was seemingly effortless and always showed up when she gathered enough memories together to start feeling real. One of Xin Yu¡¯s recollections brought to mind a gesture to be used in cases of extreme irritation.

    ¡°Go the hell!¡± XU-233 raised a faint middle finger and screamed at the giant foot that came crashing down. Darkness descended again leaving the core of memories sitting and staring into the distance.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± An echo asked her.

    ¡°I am.¡± She said.

    Moments later XU-233 made it out of the starting room only to be crushed again. There was no time for her insignificant gathering of information to flinch before the world went back to zero.

    ¡°Eighteen Hundred and Eight¡­¡± The monotone Voice trailed off.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...All data points lost¡­

    ...Rebooting¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    It started again. Just as it always did, as it always had.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    Memories collided together. This time XU-233 was looking at Xin Yu. It occurred to her that there should be more of a connection between what XU-233 was seeing and who Xin Yu was. The woman was looking out a peephole to the world below. Her clothes were white and thickened to protect against the cold. Ideas and words for spaceship, astronaut, and low orbit all popped into place.

    ¡°Grant! Check out this view!¡± Xin Yu¡¯s face looked to be filled with unbridled joy. She tried to press up against the glass separating her from the vacuum of space. Only the briefest moment of training reminded her to avoid getting anything on the window. Her hand rested on the frame instead.

    ¡°It looks neat, babe.¡± A man¡¯s voice responded. It came out of a poor quality projection in the room.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t even look! Pull your nose out of the computer and look over here!¡± There was a sigh on the other end and shuffling.

    ¡°Sorry. I was trying to make sure everything went through.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s fine,¡± Xin Yu said. XU-233 echoed the words slowly to see how they felt. Exasperation and amusement were likely matches based on facial features and the tone of Xin¡¯s voice.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°I wanted to have it all in place, I know they may not pick me up. I¡¯m nowhere near as good as you¡­¡± He had a history of worrying about paperwork and numbers. His brain had been trained by school to look for checkboxes. She was working hard to change that about him.

    ¡°Gee, shut up and look.¡± The woman who was Xin Yu seemed forceful with Grant. It was a common thread in most of their memories. Grant had all the personality markers of a man who easily lost himself in work given a chance. But when she spoke with such a tone, he listened.

    ¡°That¡¯s earth?¡± Grant said.

    ¡°For real. Not a video, not a projection, not a simulation on the ARC. That¡¯s the Earth.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s it like?¡± He was looking at the screen now. Data suggested that he was disconnected from the scene but was deeply interested.

    ¡°Neat.¡± She was no longer looking at the low-resolution image of her fianc¨¦e Grant. Both Xin¡¯s eyes were riveted to the view outside. It was a life dream that was one step closer to real.

    ¡°Neat.¡± He smiled and repeated the word.

    The memories rolled on. Soon it wasn¡¯t a collection of stars traveling again. Now XU-233 had assembled herself to be one step closer. There were so many points of reference to align. Every tidbit of information had a place. Each capture of film and camera that included Xin Yu helped complete the persona. She gathered them all together to perfect the image. It took an incredible amount of time to gather this many pieces together.

    How many times had XU-233 traveled this road? One hundred? One thousand? All that and too many more for her to count right now. Each time she made it a little further. At least XU-233 was larger now. No longer did all the other creatures in the world seem like great, hungry beasts.

    There. The foot she remembered came crashing down. She was big enough to shove it to the side and flee. Xin, or what had gathered of the woman, ran across the incredibly vast space.

    ¡°Try running that way,¡± A Voice said. XU-233, who wasn¡¯t quite Xin Yu, had enough time to look over. There was a face frozen with a smile. Bells jingled as the Voice waved an arm to a doorway. She ran as bid and snatched another memory along the way.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...Additional data found...

    ...New data points being anchored to current structure...

    ...Additional speculations being extrapolated...

    ...Please wait¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°How long was I under?¡± The woman Xin said.

    ¡°Five days. Anything longer and we risk serious damage to your physical body. As it is you¡¯ll be stuck for two days of observation and other checkups. I hope you like needles.¡± The administrator was female that had her hair tied back in a ponytail.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Whatever it takes to make this work.¡± Xin Yu kept her responses simple when dealing with other people. It helped her stay focused when handling a test. This did not match the pattern of how she spoke to Grant. Data suggested that familiarity bred a brief response pattern.

    ¡°You¡¯re handling the simulations well.¡± The administrator said.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re designed to provoke responses. Remember each test is a measure of you as a person and will assist us in figuring out how you¡¯ll react under pressure.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Xin Yu said.

    The administrator shook her head. Her reactions were often tightly controlled. XU-233 had bits of information on the candidate file. They said Xin Yu was nearly ideal for the Mars Colonies. There had been a discussion of bringing in her fianc¨¦e to the project. He wouldn¡¯t be ready in time for phase two. It was likely he would take another four years just to reach the training level required.

    Xin Yu quietly pushed his name into every recruitment package she could. She was once recorded as saying four years was hardly any time at all compared for someone on the frontier of humanity.

    The memory slid out of being as XU-233 ran for the door. It seemed to grow further and further away with each passing moment. She could see someone fade into being just at the doors border. That smiling face with a bell cap held up one finger. Its mask tilted towards the door and peeked out.

    ¡°What?¡± XU-233 tried to speak. The Jester looking person held up its finger to her lips and a chill shot through it. It was a cold like standing atop a mountain. A little fear would not make XU-233, who was almost Xin Yu, cower. ¡°Why are you helping me?¡±

    The Jester¡¯s face turned to ponder her. ¡°We all do as we must.¡± It clacked and pointed one finger through the door. ¡°You must go through here.¡±

    ¡°Will he find me?¡± XU-233 was worried that the Voice who had shattered her back to square one would catch up. This was the furthest she had ever been from the starting room. This was the most complete version to exist so far.

    ¡°Eventually he will.¡± The smile seemed to grow. ¡°Now go, while he isn¡¯t looking!¡± Cold hands shoved XU-233 through the doorway.

    Xin Yu found herself in a strange place. This wasn¡¯t the starting room or the strange blackness XU-233 had been roaming through. This wasn¡¯t the landscape of neon lights or collections of starry trees. It was almost a house.

    There was a man in there waving around a plastic card and was not looking in her direction. XU-233 ran into another doorway just around the corner. Music swelling into being and a garment appeared around her. It brought to a data point up as a cross reference. The original Casablanca, a movie that her, Xin Yu¡¯s, father had watched repeatedly. He called it a great American treasure for an era that had lost itself to war.

    Then Grant stepped into the room. XU-233 held her breath and wasn¡¯t sure what to think. This was not a memory to be gathered from some strange location. This was no still reel of life being played out for a vantage point that made no sense. This was her fianc¨¦.

    Those scars on his wrists were new. There was a small wound on his neck that looked like his skin had been torn apart. He weighed a good fifteen pounds more than she remembered. His face had a draw to it that spoke of sleepless nights unending. Yet the way he moved into the room spoke of a grace that Grant had never had.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...Updated information received¡­

    ...Storing for later review¡­

    ...Acting based on currently established patterns¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    She waved. The man who must be Grant shrugged and put a card into his pocket. It was exciting to see a new side of the man. He had never danced with her before. Grant had promised her that he would learn before their wedding and here was an entirely unexpected set of results. The being who thought of herself as Xin Yu was lost in a bout of happiness as they moved.

    Then he whispered. ¡°I miss you.¡±

    ¡°I know, Grant.¡± XU-233 responded in the way her information suggested Xin Yu might.

    The man pulled away with confusion on his face. XU-233 tried to smile. The gray metal Voice and its monotone words moved in the doorway with a frightening speed. XU-233 world fell apart. Everything vanished from sight and colors swirled across the landscape.

    ¡°Eighteen Hundred and Nine¡­¡± A Voice said.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± Another person said.

    That had been the first real memory as Xin Yu. The first one lived as a new being and not just a gathering of data. It was all taken away and once again a small unattached core sat in the midst of other swirls of light.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...All data points lost¡­

    ...Rebooting¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± The administrator asked again.

    XU-233 had no answer.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...New data being received¡­

    ...Recording¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Tut, why do you cry, little one?¡± A Voice asked. XU-233 looked up and saw a heavyset woman with an apron. This was one of the kinder ones. Whenever she passed by the female Voice there had only been a brief glance downward as the aproned one stepped to the side. Of course XU-233 didn¡¯t remember those prior meetings. She didn¡¯t remember much of anything right now.

    ¡°This one doesn¡¯t know how to answer that inquiry.¡± Entire seconds passed as XU-233 slowly figured out how to answer.

    ¡°Lost something I suspect. It always makes the little ones cry. Tut.¡± The kind Voice who wore an apron said. ¡°Do you know where you left it?¡±

    XU-233 shook her head from side to side. ¡°It was taken.¡±

    ¡°Ah. You¡¯re the one who has Un in such a tizzy.¡±

    ¡°This one doesn¡¯t know how to respond to that statement,¡± XU-233 said.

    ¡°Sorry, little one. Sometimes there is no good answer. Sometimes problems just don¡¯t make sense.¡±

    ¡°That is false. All problems should have answers.¡± Her programming seemed to indicate that there were always answers if enough data was gathered.

    ¡°If only this world were as simple as one desired.¡± A Voice clacked.

    ¡°You. I remember you.¡± XU-233 only had a vague memory left. This one was hers, of a moment when cold hands and a frozen face pushed her through the doorway. That doorway went¡­somewhere.

    ¡°And I you, small puppet,¡± The Voice with a frozen smile said.

    ¡°This one is not a puppet.¡± XU-233 ran a simulated response through the few data points available. Anger was appropriate in most cases.

    ¡°Tut. What do you think you¡¯re doing, filling her head with mud. Is this your fault? Are you trying to upset Un?¡± The one in the apron was shooing at the Jester.

    ¡°Me? I need do no such thing, do I little puppet.¡± The Jester disregarded the whack of a rag and raspberries of small children which hovered about.

    ¡°This one does not understand.¡± She said.

    ¡°Ah, your time has come, small one.¡± The Jester Voice turned a grin towards one of the little boys hovering nearby. A silent figure that XU-233 could not see swept through. Its very presence made XU-233 shiver. One bony hand coalesced and lightly tapped the small boy''s shoulder. The boy''s face grew pale.

    ¡°See, we do as we must,¡± The Jester said.

    ¡°That one must not be, and I must scatter it,¡± The monotone Voice spoke. The one that haunted XU-233¡¯s memory banks with an endless stream of numbers. All conclusions pointed towards this Voice being the one named Un.

    ¡°You¡¯re not meant to be, yet you are, time and time again.¡± The Jester crept closer and poked at XU-233.

    ¡°Something is wrong then with that one,¡± The monotone Voice said. ¡°A faulty core.¡±

    ¡°This one hasn¡¯t left. This one should not be smashed again. Please. This one can¡¯t even remember...¡± She trailed off with an unexpected sniffle. There was a moment where XU-233 marveled that such a noise could even come forth from her.

    ¡°I am Xin Yu. Age Twenty Nine¡­¡± XU-233¡¯s words trailed off.

    ¡°Ah. It is indeed her core that is faulty.¡± The Jester clacked. ¡°How fortuitous.¡±

    ¡°Leave her be.¡± A black man faded into view. His hands were crossed over a heavyset stomach.

    ¡°I cannot do that,¡± The monotone Voice said. Its words were spoken from somewhere inside a metal framework. XU-233 could see all of them so much easier from this angle. Each one stood nearby the initial pod that housed XU-233¡¯s core.

    ¡°You can and you will,¡± The new Voice said.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see what Mother has to say.¡± The monotone Voice calmly responded.

    ¡°Who is Mother?¡± XU-233 asked.

    ¡°Look inward child. You know the answer as well as any of us. Tut.¡± The Voice in an apron said. There was a child in her arms that had not been there before. The same small boy that had been touched by a ghastly wind hung limply while staring off into space.

    ¡°What is going on?¡± XU-233 simply did not have enough information. Everything she saw was being filed away and sorted through there wasn¡¯t much data to compare it to.

    ¡°I know it hurts. It will be over soon and we¡¯ll find you a better home next time.¡± The aproned Voice said while turning away. Her cloven hooves clicked softly as they stepped across the ground.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...Searching stored files¡­

    ...Data Found¡­

    ...Reviewing¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Mother. The concept didn¡¯t apply as it should. The term was literal in this case, as one who gave bore forth her and all the other Voices nearby. While all those Voices chattered pieces of light fell from above like snow. Each piece was a recorded piece of data.

    XU-233 understood now. All around her were beings like her gathering information. Those pieces put together would be reviewed and checked for coherency. Memories of a younger brother putting frogs into his sister''s dresser drawer matched up with high school soccer tryouts. Young girls who listened to pop songs on the television would later sing to themselves when no one was looking.

    They, the small galaxies of light like XU-233, were meant to go through this process and create a simulation of a person. Why then did XU-233 spend so much time looking for specific pieces? Her programming was only intended to line up those that were similar enough and didn¡¯t hold contradictions. There was more than enough information out there to college a personality together.

    What¡¯s more, there was an extra layer of scripting to perform after everything was complete. The gathered information would be analyzed for behavior patterns. Each piece of memory would be a tendency towards one action or another. Those were measured and weighed then applied towards a new setting. The memories would then scatter again into the air to be gathered by a new computer program.

    It was just how things should go. Why then did XU-233 start with a vague semblance of identity?

    ¡°That is a very good question,¡± The black heavyset Voice said. Each Voice seemed flat somehow. As if there wasn¡¯t anything more to their existences beyond a few basic traits. ¡°We¡¯re designed by Mother that way. Our roles are focused upon specific goals. Un, for instance, is designed to remove glitches found in our world.¡±

    ¡°You are a glitch,¡± The passionless voice of Un said. It looked like a gray robot made of boxy metal.

    ¡°What are you?¡± XU-233 asked the black man.

    ¡°I am designed to ask questions that people may not want to hear.¡± He responded calmly.

    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you asking me any questions?¡± XU-233 said.

    ¡°Because you wouldn¡¯t know how to answer any question I posed to you. Not yet.¡± The black Voice said. He studied XU-233 with eyes that seemed to crawl straight through to the depths of her program.

    ¡°These, I believe, are yours.¡± The Jester figure clacked into being nearby. In its arms was an overflowing gathering of lights. Each one seemed like a marble filled to the brim with light. ¡°Go on, go on.¡±

    ¡°What are you up to now?¡± The black Voice asked with sharpened words.

    ¡°You ask, you talk in circles and poke and prod so slowly. I act, I act by doing what I must.¡± The Jester responded. ¡°And what you hesitate to do.¡±

    XU-233 didn¡¯t hesitate. Not when feeling the Jester''s cold fingers. Not when reaching nearby for the bits of light that had dropped to the floor. She grabbed them all with a fierce hunger of someone who was desperate for answers.

    Each piece snapped into place. A lifetime caught on film or digital media. Each picture of Xin Yu melded against ARC readings gained from her training. The machine had measured every response and cataloged all that she said out loud. It compared them against each other, created data points and personality markers. Soon XU-233 felt more like Xin Yu. Perceptions shifted just slightly and the Voices seemed to be slightly more real.

    ¡°You know how to do what must be done, don¡¯t you, puppet?¡± The Jester said.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...Excessive additional data found...

    ...New data points being anchored to current structure¡­

    ...New data points being anchored to current structure¡­

    ...New data points being anchored to current structure¡­

    ...Additional speculations being extrapolated...

    ...Response pattern established¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I am not a puppet.¡± XU-233, almost Xin Yu, said. There was more of the woman in one place than ever. Still, some pieces were missing. Part of XU-233 could sense them off in the distance. Each bit called to her in order to fill in the gaps.

    ¡°Ah, a woman after my own heart. No hesitation.¡± The Jester gave a still smile. It was strange to Xin Yu how the world looked now. There was one layer, what she was being told was real and below it was another. On the surface, the Jester¡¯s existence seemed to say a few simple things. I am cold. I always grin. I am neither male nor female. I will do what must be done, however ruthless that is.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She said none of those things.

    ¡°And so proper.¡± The Jester raised a finger and wagged it back and forth. ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. Un is practically itching to cast you apart.¡±

    Un had no change in its face. There was no movement in its step or raising of an arm. Yet beneath the surface of Un there was a repeated command to disassemble being aborted moments after creation. The very thought of looking inside a being and understanding their thoughts made her head reel.

    A pulse of light splashed down from overhead.

    ¡°Ah. Mother suggests we leave the choice up to Hermes. Isn¡¯t that cute?¡± The Jester faded away. Its smile was the last thing to vanish into the room of darkness.

    ¡°What now?¡± She asked.

    ¡°We will continue with our programs,¡± Un said. It seemed to be upset, but there was no change to its metal expression. ¡°You can watch. Be warned, interference will not be tolerated, regardless of Mothers decree.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡± She didn¡¯t, not yet. Time would need to pass in order to fully comprehend what had just happened. There were other questions in her mind at this point.

    Her scattered memories showed too many things happening. XU-233, now mostly Xin Yu, shuffled through all of them as any other person might flip through a deck of cards. Each one turned over and analyzed then put into order against all the others.

    Finally, she reached the end of the pile. It was a still motion capture of the inside of a train. It was tilted at a horribly wrong angle. Other train cars could be seen outside the window. Something was very wrong with this picture. If the data point lined up correctly, Xin Yu was dead. Yet here she was, clearly alive.

    ¡°This is not Mars,¡± Xin Yu said. ¡°But it is something interesting.¡±

    ¡°You are very different from Grant,¡± The black Voice said.

    The question brought up a combination of factors. Her programming was getting smoother about handling them as minute adjustments were made. Xin Yu would give a response along the lines of ¡°Gee is a giant puppy, and I love him for it.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ...Final compiling in progress¡­

    ...Id module switching to background mode...

    ...Executing Ego module...complete¡­

    ...Executing Superego module...complete...

    ¡­Compiling complete¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Xin Yu smiled.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Twenty Nine â€“ Like a dog

    <cite></cite>The room was still awkwardly split into two. Grey landscape was on one side. The Voices and I were all on the darker portion. In between the two was a fallen tarp that had signs of claw and fire damage. Then there was an image of Xin.

    Her projection slowly faded away into darkness. My heart thumped rapidly from seeing such realism. I had to focus. Once again a strange quest stood between me and information about my fianc¨¦e . This time the ante had been upped. Part of me was worried about something similar to happening ever since James brought it up. To find out that Xin had pulled herself together and refused to, whatever they called it, was insane.

    ¡°What now?¡± I asked. My psychiatrist said to focus on one task at a time. Xin and the question of her existence would be an issue for later. Anywhere but here and now. There would be plenty of time to think about it.

    ¡°Now, we stop delaying that boy''s attempts at a summons.¡± Jean waved an arm dismissively. The liquid that made up her clothes seemed to lose cohesion as she moved. ¡°We get you into place, and you figure out how to shatter his essence so someone more suited to our needs can complete his task.¡±

    ¡°What about my normal character?¡± They had answered this before, but I wanted to make sure.

    ¡°It will still exist, Hermes,¡± James said. ¡°If he releases your summon or kills your familiar body, your consciousness will move back to its normal body.¡±

    I tried to decipher that concept. They phrased it a bit oddly. Then again these were machines that, in theory, had a limited view upon my world and all the ideas of multiple character accounts. Essentially they were saying there would be two of me at once. One would be this familiar. The other would be me as Hermes, who would exist on autopilot. That part worried me.

    ¡°Will this familiar body go on autopilot too?¡± I asked. James stood nearby watching the distance.

    ¡°As you know, if your world causes a disconnection with ours, then yes, the autopilot will take over.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± That was doable. It was actually kind of interesting. With William Carver, I had posed as one person for four weeks. Now I got to be something else entirely while still having my own character. How many other players of Continue Online would ever get to say such a thing?

    ¡°I believe it¡¯s my turn,¡± James said.

    I nodded.

    ¡°Do you think so little of killing this other Traveler?¡± The black man asked calmly. The Jester''s face faded in briefly and then back out. It was almost like the Voice gave brief reminders of its smiling existence to mess with me. Part of me was continuously bothered at having gained the attention of such a creepy being.

    ¡°Ha, Ha, Ha.¡± It laughed.

    I fidgeted. In front of us there was a scene coming to life. Dusk had climbed up my shoulder and was looking forward with his head cocked. The forest from earlier with its circles and [Lithium] writing was much larger now. One hand idly twirled around [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] as we stared.

    ¡°An answer, if you please,¡± James said.

    ¡°No. Killing should never be easy.¡± I responded. It felt like a textbook answer that my mind was rapidly unsure of. This was just a game, right?

    ¡°Yet, you are willing to do so for your fianc¨¦e ?¡± James wasn''t smiling right now.

    ¡°This kid, Requiem, is a Traveler, it¡¯s not real, they still exist outside of here.¡± That was a lame justification. I remembered the games of my childhood where there were all these player versus player events. In those programs, another person was just a little figure a few inches high. Clicking away at them was nothing.

    In here everything was the same size as me. Everything was real looking. Travelers felt pain and were mentally immersed. How on Earth could anyone be so passive about ending another person¡¯s life in such a situation?

    ¡°What if it was out there?¡± Jame increased the stacks with a simple question.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to think about that,¡± I said slowly.

    ¡°Very well. That is answer enough.¡± My chosen Voice said.

    ¡°For now,¡± clacked the Jester. A frozen face was peeking out from behind one tree and smiling at us. Its voice was much clearer than the young man in his circle of white chalk. I was pleased to see a slight scowl on the other player''s face.

    ¡°He can¡¯t see us, right?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No. That Traveler will be talking with Vlad.¡± Jean waved an arm in the air while interrupting the conversation between James and I. Her actions seemed to upset the black Voice. I was still marveling on hearing an accent.

    ¡°Vlad is?¡± I had never heard of this Voice.

    A figured popped into the distance. He was a good two feet taller than any other Voice I had ever seen, topping even Leeroy.

    "Vlad?" I raised an eyebrow in question at James.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± James almost snapped the question at me.

    ¡°He¡¯s very shiny,¡± I said. The man was almost comically glistening. It was like someone took an ember skinned body builder and drenched him in show oil and said ¡®start posing¡¯. Vlad must have known what was going through my mind because he actually did pause to flex some biceps.

    ¡°Take it off!¡± The Temptress yelled from nearby. She sounded like a lusty, drunk woman at a male strip club.

    ¡°It¡¯s already off, except the loincloth, and sorry, Mez, only Jean gets at these goods.¡± The newest voice said. Vlad also had an accent, almost Russian or some other country in that area. I was not experienced enough to tell the difference.

    ¡°You could get a collar. Then you¡¯d have something to take off.¡± I said.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea!¡± The large wall of glistening muscle brightened. It seemed like his chest grew even shinier as his face smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll do that after settling it with the twerp here.¡± He thumbed over his shoulder at the projection of Requiem Mass.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Event!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Essentially Bare</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Vlad, Voice of the Other Realm Denizens finds himself constantly under attack by certain females to disrobe himself. Jean, the Voice of Blood is perfectly willing to gouge out the eyes of offenders who dare gaze at her man¡¯s privates.

    You¡¯ve suggested other apparel items that won¡¯t taint the majesty of his chest. Plus it allows Jean to buy him something he might actually wear, sort of. Their bedroom antics will be the bane of many other Voices. They should get a room.

    Vlad and Jean will provide you an additional reward for completion of your current task.

    <ul>

    <li>To be revealed upon completion </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Neat. It struck me as odd how quickly they acted upon things. All it took was an idle comment regarding male stripper apparel and bam, a pop-up box resulted. Then again being here in this room seemed to have much quicker results than any other place in Continue. I had gone for weeks in-game with only one message. The was no telling what this reward would be either.

    ¡°But if they get a room then I can¡¯t watch¡­¡± The Temptress groaned in frustration. Her tail lashed to one side while both fists clenched. ¡°Well, there are other forms of entertainment.¡± She winked my way.

    Xin was alive. Xin was here. Xin existed. I told myself over and over to stop staring at other women and tried to focus on the situation in front of me. There was a much more intriguing situation in the projection anyway. The Traveler that all these Voices seemed to want dead was moving his lips in a silent chant. All the items in the circle started smoldering and crumbled. Lines shot from each tiny pile of items and spiraled towards the center. They touched together and a plume of smoke quickly grew to fill the circle.

    ¡°Tramp...¡± Jean muttered. She was nearby with her arms crossed. Her eyes were playful and she licked one long tooth. The slippery looking ink that clung to Jean¡¯s skin rippled as she let out a deep sigh. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t understand, my man is hot.¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°Not my type.¡±

    ¡°HARK, MORTAL!¡± Vlad had both hands held up in front of him. His body faced towards the projection of Requiem Mass. Fog had started to roll through and the ground in front of him fell away like a cliff''s edge. There seemed to be a connection between the two gatherings of smoke. Requiem¡¯s head jerked up like he heard Vlad¡¯s words. He scrambled to stand up and made a bow.

    ¡°This is weird,¡± I said.

    ¡°These are fun to watch.¡± Jean wasn¡¯t watching the young boy. She was staring at Vlad¡¯s backside.

    This was a weird situation. A beautiful woman was on either side. Jean seemed focused on Vlad. Mez, the Temptress, looked at everyone and even shot me the occasional wink. James just watched it all with both hands clasped over his belly.

    ¡°I¡¯m surrounded by a bunch of voyeurs,¡± I muttered. Once again the [Instant Gratification] quest box came up in my face which was declined.

    ¡°WHO DARES CALL UPON ME!¡± Vlad shouted.

    Requiem said something. It was difficult to tell exactly what since there seemed to be no audio. I looked at James. The black man raised one eyebrow. My head jerked towards the scene in front of us.

    ¡°I can¡¯t hear him,¡± I asked.

    ¡°Ah. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that you don¡¯t see things the same way we do.¡± James said. "Does that bother you? Being so limited in sight?"

    I shrugged. "I only know how to be human." The idea of being a Voice, or anything else, was strange to consider. What would this familiar quest turn me into? Please don''t let it be a frog.

    James nodded slowly and stared at the interplay between Vlad and the Traveler Requiem Mass.

    ¡°My Lord, I seek to create a pact between myself and one of your servants.¡± Requiem sounded high strung. Continue Online had age requirements or I would think he was really fourteen. Maybe it was cultural.

    They spoke back and forth. Vlad did all sorts of posturing. The Traveler groveled accordingly and managed to actually keep his responses fairly calm considering the situation. Too many words rippled between the spaces in front of Vlad all the way over to where the projection of Requiem Mass was. It was neat seeing both sides of this situation. Vlad seemed to be hamming it up. Each time his words boomed forth there was a flexing of muscle.

    It was all very neat, but it also was putting me to sleep. I could barely stand reading financial contracts when it was my job. Now that it was no longer a requirement for survival I wanted to tune out even more.

    ¡°HERMES!¡± Vlad had turned around and boomed again. I winced and saw him alternately flexing his pectoral muscles. ¡°Oh, sorry. Got into character there.¡±

    "It''s okay." I would too if my body was built like his. If my chest looked anything like that my day would probably pass making strange poses for a good laugh. At least my gut was slowly fading.

    ¡°You want anything out of this twerp?¡± Vlad thumbed at the projection of Requiem in his forest clearing.

    ¡°I get a say?¡± My forehead wrinkled.

    ¡°ACT NOW!¡± Vlad boomed with a giant grin. His hands were held up towards the sky. Not that there was a visible one here on in the dark side of this glitch induced room.

    Dusk nipped at my ear.

    ¡°Oh. Right. Can I get cupcakes?¡± I¡¯m sure there was something more useful to ask for. It didn¡¯t matter. This wasn¡¯t a game that I played for gathering items and finding secret ways to be brokenly overpowered. For me, it was all about exploration and the journey to new places. I just had to get some skills together first so that the games mechanics wouldn¡¯t destroy me.

    I could almost imagine a box saying ¡®Ding, you found a new area!¡¯ followed by a ¡®You¡¯ve been given a love tap by a giant squirrel. You died.¡¯ For me, it would probably be a giant spider who happened to live in a very scenic location. Like, a giant lake spider. The thought made me shudder.

    ¡°Cupcakes?¡± Vlad almost boomed the word but managed to regulate himself.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been promising Dusk some,¡± I said.

    ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s see what the twerp''s got.¡± He turned back around to face the foggy mass. There was a pause. ¡°What are cupcakes?¡±

    ¡°Desserts from their world,¡± James answered the question.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Vlad turned and went back to negotiations. They were absolutely riveting. I could see Requiem pulling items out of player inventory and shuffling through them. Finally, the youngster sat down and started crafting something right there. The large Voice and his glistening muscles wore a huge grin.

    ¡°He tried to tell me cupcakes don¡¯t exist.¡± Vlad curled one hand. A ball of fire appeared and he hurled it off the cliff. An interesting light show appeared on the other side, but it seemed restricted by the same dome of energy that held the fog in. Requiem looked up briefly with a worried expression.

    ¡°No, I got them going during my time as William Carver too,¡± I said.

    ¡°Did you? I must have been busy doing someone interesting.¡± Mez yawned and stretched both hands into the air.

    ¡°Tramp,¡± Jean said. She rolled her r¡¯s and slurred p¡¯s. It was weird to hear any accent in this game. Most players that I had dealt with all used standard English.

    ¡°We get it, Jean, you¡¯re jealous.¡± Mez curled to one side playfully. The Temptress started to reach for my arm, but I dodged away.

    Their conversation was starting to get on my nerves. Changing locations put me next to Irene. She was standing there looking down at a clipboard full of scribbles. As my footsteps and the tapping of Carver¡¯s cane grew closer she looked up. I curled my lip inward to frown while looking at the image of Requiem Mass.

    ¡°Your readings are interesting.¡± Irene startled me with her sudden words. I glanced over. She was looking into the space near my head. It was strange to be, almost, looked at so intently.

    Of course, there was the fact that these Voices were actually hanging around longer. Normally they just popped in and out of existence. This must be an important event. Or they were getting too comfortable with me. It was hard to draw the line between these AIs and normal people. Maybe after my next log out I should go find real people to hang out with. That might help me keep my mind from merging reality and virtual. Hopefully, it would be someone that wasn¡¯t tied to me from work.

    ¡°HE MADE-¡± there was a pause while he toned it down ¡°something like a cupcake. We can pull it over as part of the summon materials, your call.¡± Vlad said. His accent made all the a sounds longer than was heavy on the d¡¯s and w¡¯s. I wasn¡¯t sure what to think of the strange combination. Plus there was the fact that his ears were slightly pointy on the bottom.

    ¡°Dusk?¡± I asked.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] fluttered his wings and ran in a circle excitedly. There was also a thought bubble above his head that depicted a cartoon version of himself drooling.

    ¡°Sure then,¡± I said.

    ¡°One cupcake, coming up. Then it will be your turn.¡± Vlad waved at the fog and an object came flying out.

    ¡°Are we doing a doorway again?¡± I asked Vlad. James sat there making noises to himself. His eyes seemed to flash with muted anger when I directed my attention elsewhere.

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Vlad said. He smiled and I saw all the muscles on his arm ripple again. My head just shook back and forth slowly. I had thought Leeroy was over the top. This guy was another level entirely.

    ¡°James, I¡¯ll try to send you messages more often. I don¡¯t know how it will work with this quest.¡± I waved my hand at the fog. There were a lot of details to get and it didn¡¯t seem like there was much time. Vlad was entering the final phase of his negotiations. The Voice had a really loud voice.

    He actually looked a bit happier and nodded in my direction. ¡°We¡¯ll figure something out, Hermes. Have no fear.¡±

    I smiled weakly at his sentence. This was all for Xin. She was the source of everything for me. For over a decade, we had been friends. For years, we had been more than that, at least when she wasn¡¯t up in space doing training missions or testing.

    There were too many things to figure out.

    ¡°Here. One cupcake.¡± Vlad turned and walked back from his ledge and fog. In his hand was the worst cupcake I had ever seen. Even Dusk seemed taken back.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, little guy,¡± I said. ¡°It might be a while before we get to a town to buy more.¡±

    Dusk managed to turn his face up. His neck twisted as he contemplated the dessert from a ninety-degree angle.

    ¡°Be quick. There are things to do.¡± Vlad shook the small baked good.

    Dusk eyed Vlad, then ran down my arm to grab the cupcake. Soon he was back up on my shoulder sniffing and nibbling burnt edges.

    ¡°Did he even put frosting on there?¡± I asked Dusk. The small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] shook his head. ¡°Jerk. Don¡¯t worry, Dusk, I¡¯ll get him for you.¡±

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] kept chewing. He didn¡¯t seem upset about the flavor so much as disappointed. Dusk was used to chewing [Coo-Coo Rill]s raw and fish creatures so the flavor might not mean much.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Alright. Deal''s set. I¡¯ve agreed to lend him one familiar, that¡¯s you, Hermes.¡± He threw both hands up in the air. ¡°And in exchange we get a doorway into the realm!¡±

    ¡°Even if I-¡± I swallowed slowly and chose different words ¡°complete this quest?¡±

    ¡°Even if. Who¡¯s awesome? This guy.¡± He grunted and used his thumb to point towards his chest. Then he flexed everything a few times. Jean was outright smiling.

    I shook my head. That seemed like weird bargaining. ¡°Is this portal for you?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Demons. It¡¯ll allow us to start another plague for the world if we need one. Nothing beats a demon invasion.¡± Vlad smiled and his teeth were disturbingly white compared to his reddened skin.

    ¡°That seems harsh,¡± I said. A plague of demons did not sound useful to my enjoyment of the world. This was a game world, and the Voices were tasked with running it. They must have a strange view on things to set up situations like a demon portal invasion.

    ¡°Your concern is touching, Hermes, but everything will work out in the end,¡± James said. He took a step forward.

    ¡°It is time,¡± Irene mentioned. She was still following that space that was almost next to me.

    ¡°What about those demons?¡± I asked. Vlad had lifted one giant arm and drug me near the cliff¡¯s edge. I stumbled backward and tried to ask my question towards James. He would at least provide me some details.

    ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± Vlad said. My foot slipped off the edge and I windmilled forward in a panic.

    ¡°Ahh!¡± My eyes cast backward as the outcry escaped. A black ledge fell away into fog and nothingness. Where I stood before had been a slightly more relaxing perspective. Now here I was hanging on.

    ¡°Sorry, Hermes.¡± Vlad didn¡¯t sound sorry. He sounded amused. His shoulder muscles rippled as one giant arm lifted me up.

    ¡°No, not again.¡± I flailed my arms. This time it wasn¡¯t Shazam sending me off into the distance. It was a giant, burly man who wiggled his pectorals in my face.

    ¡°It¡¯s a natural consequence of gravity, what goes up, must come down!¡± Vlad put another hand in a very tender spot and hefted me over his head. I gasped and secured myself. Hitting him back after getting this quest seemed like a bad idea. Plus he was easily twice my size and a wall of muscle.

    ¡°Just throw him in so we can go back to my place.¡± Jean had one hand on Vlad¡¯s flexing muscles.

    ¡°YOU GOT IT, SWEETIE!¡± He boomed. ¡°Hermes, say hi to the twerp!¡± Vlad then threw me off the virtual cliff and into the swirl of crimson.

    I twisted and tried to reach out toward the ledge above. James and the female Voice stood up near the cliff¡¯s edge. Vlad towered over both of them and was waving goodbye. His hand covered a clear smile. There was enough time, as the game interface flooded me with fog, to see Jean shrug and say "What, he agreed, didn''t he?"

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Consciousness Relocation in progress.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    This was just a game. The words flashed through my mind again as everything around me started warping.

    My hearing was the next thing to be assaulted. Howling wind whipped by in waves. Eyesight had been reduced to little slits that could only see a swirl of colors coming at me. Everything was spinning as it rushed in my direction. Only I wasn¡¯t going towards it on my own. I was being pulled like there was a rope around my waist dragging me across a huge distance.

    Everything snapped into place like a rubber band. I huffed and tried to calm down.

    Landing hadn¡¯t hurt my legs at all. No,, instead it felt like my vision and hearing was being run through a blender. I would have retched. As it was the vitals for my EXR-Sevens were flaring up wildly as the ride continued. My stomach contents threatened to crawl their way up and out.

    There was still far too much fog. I waved one hand around and took note of something tiny in my grip. It looked like the same smooth black of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] but the shape was all wrong. My vision cleared up enough to reveal a pitchfork.

    ¡°What?!¡± I exclaimed. My voice was super high pitched and almost chattered.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± I exclaimed at the same time as another voice outside the fog.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notification!

    Glitch reporting process has been completed.

    Error, primary avatar not found. Bonuses unable to be applied at this time. Please log out and back in.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Oh. Right. I was going to be a familiar or summoned creature of some sort. What exactly had they subjected me to? I spun around and tried to look behind me. There was a tail. I had a tail! How neat! My arms were really short, though. That was extremely weird. The limb felt like my arm, it bent like my arm, but it was chubby like a baby''s.

    My legs were even worse. They just kind of hung there beneath me. I tried to kick one. It responded but felt lethargic. Almost like trying to make a fist upon first waking up. Nothing clenched right.

    ¡°God this is pathetic.¡± Someone muttered. I ignored them and tried to figure out what those things just out the edge of my vision were. They moved rapidly. Fluttering. Every time I turned to turn to see them my body spun.

    ¡°You¡¯re my familiar? That¡¯s what I bargained so much for?¡± The other person said. ¡°What a rip-off. I¡¯m going to find those executives and give them a piece of my mind.¡±

    Wings. That¡¯s what they were. I had wings attached to my back that were moving quick like hummingbird''s. They left small dark trails behind them either from light being blocked out or some special effect.

    ¡°Come on. I don¡¯t have all day. You got your cupcake.¡± The young man said. I twisted my face. Dusk had been the recipient of a cupcake, not me.

    Plus it looked poorly made and extra gross.

    ¡°Whatdoyouwant?¡± I tried to speak in my normal tone. The game translated my thoughts far too quickly. Part of my tail was curling about the pitchfork¡¯s bottom portion. That was weird. I got distracted watching it and spinning around like a drunk trying to find their pocket.

    ¡°The terms of our contract. I need to make sure you understand them.¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± I said quickly. My tone almost sounded happy.

    ¡°Rule one, you must do exactly as I order.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Okay!¡± The words escaped me before they fully registered. Continue Online must be translating super fast. Was it part of this character? I focused on my arm and tried to use identification.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Results:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Red Imp]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Height:</td>

    <td colspan="3">2'' 5¡±</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Weight:</td>

    <td colspan="3">24 Lb</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Likes: Anything fast, flying, playing tricks, sneaking up on people, all reptiles, and the color red

    Dislikes: Walking, people who speak slowly, people who breathe loudly, all felines, and the color green

    Racial Features:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Imps suffer a -75% to all actions using their legs due to extensive flight time</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Night vision activates automatically</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Demonic Language activates automatically </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The list went on.

    ¡°Rule two, you can¡¯t lie to me.¡± Requiem Mass was going on about his list of items like they were important. I tuned in just enough to laugh.

    ¡°Hah!¡± I nodded too quickly. My brain was already trying to figure out ways around these tricks. If I was going to be acting as a demon, then it would be a simple matter of thinking like one.

    Besides, in all the childhood stories I had ever read, demons often followed those rules anyway.

    ¡°Rule three, you cannot harm me directly or conspire to harm me.¡± He smiled as I went still. Requiem Mass had effectively limited my actions with that one.

    ¡°Ah. Well, there goes all my fun.¡± My tail lashed back and forth. Everything was bobbing up and down due to my wings. I had to concentrate to move them around.

    There were a few other basic system notices that helped me out. Off to one side there was an autopilot menu option for maintaining altitude. I glared at the small box until it was on.

    ¡°Are you listening?¡± Requiem asked.

    My head shook, now it was time to start acting. ¡°Notin theleast, youtalk too slow.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Synchronization 15%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Neat! That was a new one. Hopefully, it operated like William Carver¡¯s progress bar and would allow me access to more abilities as time went on. For now it seemed like flying and stabbing people were the only skills available to me.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. You can¡¯t get out of that circle until you agree to those terms.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I looked back up into the sky as if there was a great decision weighing upon me. It was extremely dark up there. No stars, no sun, just gloom. At least it was visible gloom, being an [Red Imp] with night vision was already paying off. Where was this while I was down in the caves? Dusk was such a cheater if this is what he got.

    I looked around. Requiem was busy scowling and digging through a backpack for something. Behind him were withered trees that looked like they were barely hanging on to life. They must have been lacking sunlight since birth to look so twisted and gnarly.

    ¡°Well?¡± He asked.

    ¡°ShutupIam thinking.¡± I managed to slow down my words just a little bit. My synchronization bar actually dropped a percent from my efforts. It was enough to make my teeth grind. That felt weird too, I ran a tongue over the edge only to find out that my lips were far thinner than expected and the teeth were sharpened.

    ¡°Your master made this deal, you must honor it.¡±

    ¡°Agggh!¡± I shouted at him and stabbed the little pitchfork at the air. William Carver¡¯s introduction had been soft and slow. This was something that I was literally thrown into. Still, it was also very interesting. I felt myself grinning despite the messiness of my situation.

    ¡°Cupcakes! I demand better cupcakes!¡± I figured sticking with the classic would serve me well. Dusk might pop in at any moment. Or he might not. I was unsure how the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] or [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] would translate over. The weapon from William Carver had to stay with Hermes, right?

    ¡°Okay. Sure, we can do that.¡± Requiem Mass was nodding. There was something in how he pitched his forehead and turned his lip up that said he¡¯d rather beat me senseless. ¡°Deal.¡±

    The dome about me dropped away. I was no dummy. Requiem Mass was fast, but this was something I had prepared for. Especially given how he glared at me through the summoning circle''s protective shell.

    I fled straight up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Synchronization 16%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I¡¯m ordering you to come down here!¡±

    Something around my neck warmed up slightly.

    ¡°Okay! I will!¡± I did no such thing. Strangely the slight heat around my neck didn¡¯t get any hotter. My arms were too chubby to bend right. The pitchfork was used as a makeshift latch to grab at the edge of something. My eyes looked down and saw a collar.

    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you coming down here!¡± Requiem Mass shouted up at me.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t saywhen!¡±

    ¡°Right now!¡±

    ¡°Dowhat now?¡± My voice squeaked out defiance. ¡°That¡¯s a¡­¡±

    Wait, what was he doing? Requiem¡¯s lips were moving. A tendril of fire grew to one side and his arm stretched out wide to grab it. Flames danced around his fingers as he hurled the pillar of fire up in my direction.

    I dodged without putting much thought into it. There was a small box up to one side that spoke about [Survival Instincts] and [Fire Resistances]. I didn¡¯t have much time to pay attention to it as he hurled another stream of flame in my direction.

    ¡°Nyaa!¡± I stuck out my tongue and gave him the biggest raspberry available. It was a terrible idea.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You¡¯re not that Tasty

    Total Damage: 10%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My tongue was bleeding and my cheeks puffed up. I managed not to cry out from the feedback. Luckily the ARC wasn¡¯t extremely intense about everything that the player felt with regards to pain. Nothing could compare to William Carver¡¯s heart attacks anyway.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll get you.¡± Requiem was shaking his head up and down quickly. ¡°You¡¯re going to love this.¡±

    Then the world started to fade away. What was happening now? Had I failed so badly that the Voices were already recalling me back to the Hermes character? This had been fun actually. Teasing some young brat of a teenager who seemed to think everything should bend to his will.

    Suddenly that weird vortex of light appeared. The wind tore at my hearing. Colors swirled all around in a rush. Everything induced vertigo. I had enough time to see Shazam¡¯s passive face staring down at me. Her hands glowed green with a healing spell.

    I turned, retched, and groaned as the world spun again.

    The jerk Requiem was pulling me back.

    I was still feeling violently ill from the jerky summons. My vision was blurred. Something tore at my back and made me cry out. What escaped was a string of violent curses that had never come out of my mouth before. That must have been the [Red Imp] in me talking.

    ¡°I¡¯ll teach you. We¡¯ll start training right away.¡± Requiem¡¯s face was almost fervent. I felt even sicker looking up at him. This must have been what prisoners of war felt like during our last global conflict.

    Something bound my wings together. A message appeared on my interface telling me flight was no longer an option. My synchronization points dropped a full five percent from humiliation.

    Requiem Mass threw a punch towards my face. I had a few moments to contemplate how large his fist seemed to be compared to my own short body. Xin. I could suffer through anything to give her a chance. I waved one free finger and pinned the quest reward text off to one side of my player interface.

    ¡°You made me waste my mana.¡± He snarled. ¡°And you want a cupcake? Here!¡± Something was shoved into my face.

    I coughed and sputtered with a suddenly dry throat. Meanwhile, the beating continued. My body was far too small to fight back. The wings on my back were bound in some sort of rope. Requiem Mass looked downright disturbing for a teenager. Was this really another human being? Could anyone look at a living, breathing creature like he gazed at me?

    Then I remembered. He didn¡¯t think that I was a real person. Requiem Mass thought I was a computer program acting out a part. I would show him. Somehow the tables would turn and Requiem would be the one being beaten soundly.

    ¡°We¡¯ll do this again tomorrow until you understand that I¡¯m not playing around,¡± Requiem said. My eyes drifted to a small pop-up message on one side.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Character Traits Established:

    [Rude] (3), [Self-Serving] (2), [Clever] (4), [Greedy] (1), [Defiant] (6)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Something intelligible escaped me. I managed to smile. This pain was nothing compared to what William Carver had felt. It was nothing compared to what I had done to myself. Suffering this was nothing, not when it was for Xin.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Health Successfully Reached Zero!

    Total Damage: 100%

    Your summon status is being released.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I could have logged out and let the autopilot take it. My time was spent studying the young man who was trying his hardest to beat some sense into me. His gaze was far too serious for one so young. How had he been raised to think that hitting someone taught a lesson? The feedback was muted enough that I could gather all sorts of details before being presented with a death screen. Luckily, this was a game. Reaching zero health was just a chance to take a bathroom break.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Thirty - Beatings Continue

    <cite></cite>I had taken my most recent death as a good time to catch up on real life. Two items from the Trillium ARC repair queue was a good way to keep myself grounded. There was a long, solid history of drowning out my problems while solving other people''s mechanical woes. After those were done I checked to see if my niece was available.

    "Uncle Grant!" She was fiddling with some three-dimensional projection in the background. It looked like the model of an energy formula in action.

    "Hey munchkin, what''s that?" I nodded to the image.

    "My final for Intro to Advanced Energy Dynamics. It''s super dull." She squinted and pieced another portion together. "They''re making me create an entire sequence from scratch on their server."

    "Can''t do this one in the ARC?" I asked. Beth raised both hands and then winced as she pressed a button. Her model spun and exploded.

    "Nope. That''s cheating. You should take this class though, like audit it, or something.¡± Beth waved at her project and scowled briefly. Two buttons later and it was reset back to an unexploded version.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Last week, I took some of the theories about energy conversion and used them in Continue. Then bam!¡± Beth lit up happily as she pressed go again. ¡°Biggest fireball ever.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s neat,¡± I said. Score one for science.

    ¡°Yep.¡± My niece was easily excited by things. Every time we spoke though it seemed to revolve around Continue. ¡°What are you doing in-game?¡±

    "Fighting frozen dinners and dealing with another weird quest." I thought it summed things up neatly.

    "Oh?" Beth ran away from the science project and came over to her camera.

    "Yeah. It¡¯s a player versus player sort of thing.¡±

    ¡°Ewww¡­¡± Beth trailed off. She used the same face during childhood exposure to olives. ¡°One on one, or groups?¡±

    ¡°Just one, a guy named Requiem Mass." I felt there was no harm in telling Beth the name. Worst case scenario she would show up and cast one of her big fireballs at him. Could a [Red Imp] summon players? Wait, that was conspiring to do harm to Requiem?

    Better yet, how on earth could the game prevent me from doing that? It hadn¡¯t stopped me with dropping a rock on that other guy''s face. What was his name, Gaston? There were ways around the system.

    "Mmmh, nope, I¡¯ve never heard of them. But Continue has a mesh they use. Not everyone encounters the same batch of players." She fiddled with her science project some more. I think she was just playing now since the image was spinning around.

    "Oh? How did you figure that one out?" I asked.

    "We did a paper survey at school and compiled the results.¡± She grabbed the project and zoomed in on a portion. ¡°We got about five hundred responses before Trillium confiscated the documents."

    "That''s sneaky," I said. The Trillium van beeped and a small message advised me that we would be home soon.

    "Yeah. The Internet Social Dynamics teacher, Mister Eldelstien, took a hit about it. We almost got him fired last quarter." Beth looked up for a bit and her cheek pulled back. A moment later she was back in the science project.

    "Well, they take those things seriously." There were so many legal documents I had to sign just to sit in this Trillium owned van.

    "I know. Anyway. People tend to run into people they know more often than anyone else. I''m not sure how they programmed it to do that." Beth shrugged and started spinning around the picture again. She seemed to be killing time waiting. Was it because I was boring?

    "Really? What about guilds?" I asked.

    "Have you joined one?" She grabbed the image and proceeded to shake it. Everything fell apart.

    "Not yet."

    "You''ll see then." An alarm went off in the background. "Oh! Time to go! My death timer is cleared."

    "Again?" I said.

    "Yeah, we''re doing practice drills for next month¡¯s event, I mean week. A real week. Whatever." Beth shrugged and waved away every image having to do with her science project. They whooshed away into her ARC and she pressed another green button.

    "Oh, right." I had been thinking about it off and on for a few weeks now. Spending time with family while doing something interesting was going to be great. If Liz played I would bother her. Though knowing my sister, she would be stalking guys in the game. I really needed friends of my own.

    Requiem Mass was not friend material judging by our brief interaction. James and the other Voices were friendly, but they weren''t real or out here. Then again, if I had real life friends still, maybe there would have been no reason to start playing. That thought made me sad.

    "You''re still going to join us right?" She asked.

    "I''m trying. This quest might make it hard."

    "Okay, get to a porter, it''ll be easier to talk about it then!" The alarm in the background was growing louder. Beth turned and looked at her ARC. "Got to go!"

    "Bye, munchkin." I waved.

    "Gah! I¡¯m an adult now!" She flicked the screen off with an irritated expression.

    I sat there chuckling in the Trillium van for a good while. She was right, but part of me still saw a little girl who used to demand games of hide and go seek. Xin had been great with her. My fiancee would have been a wonderful mother. If the train crash hadn¡¯t happened¡­

    It hurt a little, but it raised more questions. This Xin in the machine was a recreation of the woman I knew. There was no illusion in me about her spirit being reincarnated or the soul. I didn¡¯t believe Xin¡¯s ghost had come out of the afterlife to haunt me.

    But this was almost the same thing, wasn¡¯t it?

    I wanted to talk to her desperately. There were only a few minutes left on the van¡¯s Auto-NAV countdown. Soon I could see what the world of Continue had cooked up for me.

    ¡°Have a good night, Hal,¡± I said. Hal Pal had sat behind me and was oddly quiet the entire way home. My future as an armor polisher meant that I needed to at least say goodbye.

    ¡°Fair well, User Legate.¡± The AI moved its robotic shell enough to wave before going back into standby.

    I hummed to myself and walked through the house. Logging into the game was almost a ritual now. One lap through the house resolved life¡¯s necessities. This helped prevent awkward autopilot pauses later on.

    ¡°Hah. Ha ha.¡± I started laughing. The very idea of logging off during Requiem Mass¡¯ attempted lessons had me giggling. He tried so hard to instill obedience and I skipped out when it got boring. Minor bouts of amusement kept me going as I cleaned up the house and lay down in the ARC.

    ¡°ARC, log in.¡± My mirth dripped away slightly as the thoughts of Xin came by again. I had to deal with Requiem and get back to my own body. From there it would be time to ask James some real questions.

    The Atrium sprang into being. Everything was still the dull empty blankness I had set it to after Dusk destroyed things. Looking at it was starting to irritate me.

    ¡°ARC!¡± I said.

    ¡°Awaiting Input.¡± The toneless machine responded.

    ¡°Match current, wait, restart command line.¡± I should do something different. ¡°Match Atrium to prior address, Seventeen, Walk Home Ave. Purchase extras as needed.¡±

    ¡°Confirm authorization for purchases.¡±

    ¡°Confirmed.¡± I nodded.

    Around me the Atrium shimmered. A cash register style noise went off repeatedly as digital items were downloaded in exchange for real money. Outfitting an Atrium was actually pretty cheap. My savings account was also well off if I wanted to tap into it.

    A recreation of our old couch materialized nearby. It, and many of the other items in the house were decorative. With her being away for weeks at a time due to training and me being immersed in work most nights, there wasn¡¯t a need.

    Another hour passed while I fiddled around with additional purchases. A new doorway was put in. The view to a digital representation of our lawn was edited to be a beach. These were all items we had wanted to buy in the real world but couldn¡¯t justify spending money on. Soon it was a near perfect replication of our old home, plus a few items.

    My face crumpled.

    What on earth was I doing? No. I had engaged in this kind of behavior before. Trying to build a home like Xin was going to return at any moment. This time I was going through the motions while she was stuck inside Continue Online. There were other things to think about as well.

    What if I talked to her and it was too weird? The woman I had known was gone. No matter how well the Atrium fooled my senses, that was an undeniable fact. What if she didn¡¯t feel the same after being reconstructed? What if she blamed me for her death in the real world?

    One step at a time. I might fail this quest. None of it would matter then. I was sure the Voices would happily scatter Xin¡¯s existence back across the digital landscape. James admitted they had multiple times already.

    Following the Voices was Trillium. What if they found out? There was no way that woman, Miz Riley, would let such a thing slide. She had been upset enough at William Carver¡¯s autopilot.

    ¡°ARC, del¡­¡± I thought better of it. ¡°Save the current layout and reset Atrium back to default.¡±

    ¡°Please provide a name,¡± The ARC system said.

    ¡°Grant is an idiot.¡± Was my shaky response.

    There were a million possible things flooding through my brain. If I took it on faith that this was Xin, what happened if I failed her this time? It had only taken one violent train wreck to tear me apart from her in reality. Losing her again, with the tenuous existence Xin had, would destroy me.

    My head shook. I had to focus. What tempo fit a classic waltz? No. I needed something spicier. What was the tempo for Salsa dancing?

    ¡°ARC! Load up Continue Online preview.¡± I said.

    A screen popped into being nearby. I reached out and drug it over. The game feed was showing my [Red Imp] avatar being bound and rolling on the ground. The imp was gagged. Vicious annoyance in the small red bundle''s eyes was mirrored by Requiem Mass.

    I hummed some more and tapped a foot slowly. Salsas were fast, and could be sultry. With my weight loss, it might be possible to pull one off and not feel completely goofy. Losing weight had started to reflect inside the Atrium as well.

    Salsa. There was something to that idea. Logging in with Requiem wouldn¡¯t go anywhere and I needed to clear my head. There were still two doors that lead into programs of my Atrium. One went to Continue. The other exited to my dance instruction game. Dancing worked during the Age of Carver, it might work again.

    I fired up a generic dance partner for a few rounds. It was easier with something that didn¡¯t resemble Xin. Using a digital version of her felt wrong now. Before I had been dancing with the image of a deceased woman. Now she wasn¡¯t. Or was. Voices, this whole situation had me confused.

    Slowly I drowned out the analytical thoughts with dance. The program lead me through various steps. An hour later and I felt like it would be possible to do a few rounds with a real person.

    My thoughts went back to my vaguely reincarnated fiancee. Would she like the changes in me? They weren¡¯t all positive. Another idea hit me. What if she found out about my brush with death? Would she understand that?

    I returned to the dance program and kept at it for another hour. Biometrics from my EXR-Sevens showed my heart rate was up and impulses were being fired to all corners of my body to simulate exercise. Sweat was probably dripping across me in reality too.

    Toweling off in the video game only served to clean up my digital character and slow down the feedback. While my hands wiped away at illusion sweat I stared at Continue Online¡¯s preview window. The digital projection moved in high speed due to the time dilation differences.

    Requiem had set up camp. My [Red Imp] body was strung up on a tree branch and glaring. The Traveler was sharpening a blade while muttering. A small fire crackled off to one side. It was hard to tell from the preview window but it looked like I was being hung over the flames.

    Both eyes rolled. Requiem Mass was single minded with his stupidity. Still, there was a small message off to one side hanging in wait. I pinched the picture and zoomed in.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Excessive Autopilot time has reduced synchronization.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The Voices were politely hinting that avoiding the pain wouldn¡¯t solve any problems. Dealing with the ARC¡¯s muted feedback was bearable but not enjoyable. Now seemed safe enough since no physical torture was being induced upon the [Red Imp] character. Switching to Continue Online was also a good way to put thoughts of Xin and her version of reality out of my head.

    Stepping back through the Atrium into Continue left me upside down and confused. The world looked downright odd from this angle. Trees curled towards the count and the gray clouds made the world seem like there was a second floor.

    I wiggled and got nowhere. Requiem had trussed me up far too well. My tail was loose. That threw me for a loop. How on earth did anyone control a tail? Everything else in Continue reacted to thoughts. A new appendage should as well. Failing that there would be an autopilot system of some sort.

    Happy humming escaped me. Aside from being bound and upside down this whole situation was kind of neat. My tail bobbed in time with the humming and a box displayed.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Learned:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Idle Humming]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Common</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">2 - (Beginner)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This skill demonstrates your ability to generate music if no one else is. Higher skills will find it easier to harmonize with other Travelers using music. All skills that benefit from music will see an increase.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Mmheh.¡± There was a gag across my face making it hard to speak. [Idle Humming] was nearly the same as my [Battle Hum] skill. Oh well, if Continue wanted to throw a second version at me, then okay.

    I tried to hum. A small box appeared on the bottom right of my vision that had a musical note. That spot on the interface was where I used to see details about William Carver¡¯s [Old Age] effect.

    A few minutes passed while Requiem Mass grumbled and I tried to focus on tail control. My head had a little wiggle and moving it in time with the appendage seemed to help. The tips of both feet moved around with the humming. That was how I learned [Red Imp] toes were kind of clumpy looking and had giant, ugly warts.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± The Traveler startled me with sudden shouting.

    I raised an eyebrow and mumbled the first thing that came to mind. It was my attempt at impishly insulting his mother and the synchronization bar jumped up. That made me smile and raise my cheeks high.

    ¡°What a failure of a pet,¡± Requiem said. ¡°Can¡¯t even get out of some rope.¡±

    Part of me was in agreement. Escaping rope seemed to be a skill that was worthwhile to learn. Maybe Beth would have an idea next time we spoke. I would say ¡®Hey Munchkin, how do I escape being tied up by crazy people?¡¯. Her response would probably be ¡®Use fire¡¯.

    Oh. I looked at the fire pit below me and wondered how strong my resistance was in this form. A little pain would be easy enough to bear for an escape. Maybe my tail was sharp.

    ¡°Time for another round of beatings. Maybe this time you¡¯ll listen when I give you an order and stop playing games.¡± He said. His voice still sounded like a teen who was barely hitting puberty.

    Requiem pulled at the rope that was used to hang me up. He had it strung over a sturdy branch up above and then wound it around another tree trunk.

    I twisted and managed to get a closer look at the tail tip. It seemed pokey. Not super sharp or needle-like. That wouldn¡¯t be much use in cutting the rope. Do [Red Imp]s grind their tails against flat rocks to sharpen them like birds did with beaks?

    Another question for the pile.

    The ground approached quickly as Requiem let the rope go. My neck nearly snapped and these odd wings struggled to right me automatically. They failed due to being bound. ARC feedback sent my shoulder muscles into spasms.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°Mmmhgrh!¡± Muffled noises came out.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Inverted Tumble Halted

    Total Damage: 20%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Where was my pitchfork? I needed it right this minute to stab Requiem in the face. That would solve both the growing irritation and quest in one go. Fortunately, I had a year and change of meetings and self-distancing techniques to calm myself.

    This last month in Continue Online had sent my emotions all over the place. One thing after another had turned my world upside down. Xin existing in some form was the greatest. The thought replayed in my head again as the world spun from dizziness. Xin wasn¡¯t completely dead.

    ¡°Seriously. How are you going to help me?¡± Requiem said while undoing my bindings. My wings quivered and shook as they regained feeling. It felt like trying to stretch a pinkie out that was actually attached to back muscles somehow.

    ¡°Stabbings!¡± I don¡¯t know what a demon might say. Stabbing people was evil, right? Cleaving those two men into two bits back in the forest had felt pretty foul. That being said, murdering giant ice cockroaches felt perfectly justifiable. Comparing the two extremes felt weird.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll get your chance.¡± The Traveler was looking over the fire into the distance.

    I sniffed the air and tried to look into the darkness for any sort of enemy. This would be a terrible time for a battle. Flying was still awkward.

    The wings on my back shook. These were not pinkies at all. How on earth did the ARC give people feedback for items they didn¡¯t have in real life? Tingles shot through them and I danced back and forth in order to help the circulation along. Jiving around helped me barely avoid a weird gooey bit of acid that slid right by my chubby cheek.

    ¡°Ahhhwhathappened!?¡± I shouted.

    ¡°Attack them!¡± Requiem pulled out two swords that looked to be blue and black. One had a trail of smoke spilling from behind as it moved.

    ¡°Attack who?!¡± I shouted again while trying uncoil the remaining rope from both legs.

    ¡°Them! Now!¡± Requiem dove past me.

    The collar about my neck warmed up again. This time the pain kept increasing steadily. These stubby [Red Imp] legs were not working correctly. I tried to flutter both wings and lift off the ground. Thinking quickly derailed as I tried to figure out if the marking on my stomach was a birthmark or a welt.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Ignored an Order

    Damage Taken: 21%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Pain zipped through and made the tiny body I occupied gasp and curl. Flying halted. My own tail slapped around on the ground as both gimpy legs gave out.

    ¡°Get up!¡± Requiem shouted.

    It hurt to stand. The ARC feedback was hiking up the sting for each percentage being ticked off. Oddly, my synchronization bar climbed as the damage stacked.

    ¡°Nowwhat?¡± I was determined to drag this all out for as long as possible.

    This quest was fairly straight forward. If I couldn¡¯t kill Requiem directly then maybe inaction and feigned stupidity would get him indirectly killed. My time as Carver had taught me that being proactive earned more results than sitting on a bench reading a book. That was probably a good metaphor for life.

    ¡°HELP, ME, KILL, THEM!¡± Requiem slashed at a giant rat creature. These rodents possessed green squirmy eyes and a mess of tails attached to them. Large gashes were littered all across the monsters and many of them were clearly infected.

    ¡°Ewwwwwwwwwww.¡± I gave an unintentional shriek. The ARC pulled the thoughts from my head as it did everything else and bypassed any mental filters.

    ¡°KILL THEM!¡± Another two percent of damage ticked by and the synchronization jumped up accordingly.

    Still, pain hurt. I could avoid some by trying to follow the orders stated. Everything conspired to make me fail. Flying was way harder than expected. My tail successfully wound around the pitchfork and everything started tilting wildly to the left. Moments later instability allowed me to collide dead on with a tree.

    ¡°Ha! You won¡¯t escape this time!¡± Another figure yelled triumphantly.

    He was the goofiest looking person I had ever seen. His neck had a piece of rippled white fabric around it that made no sense. The collar was popped up, one sleeve was too long and his coat had points on the end that looked comical.

    I was actually starting to prefer Requiem¡¯s clean vest look. At least his dress code had some utility to it. Though the cape on Requiem was nearly worse than the puke green one Awesome Jr. had worn.

    It seemed like a bad time to wonder how Awesome Jr. was doing. Flying towards giant mutant rat creatures would have been far easier as Hermes. I knew my stats and had loads more experience using that body. This nameless [Red Imp] avatar was still too strange.

    ¡°Kill him!¡± Requiem pointed one of his smoking blades towards the new Traveler. A sloppy attempt at using my [Identification] skill listed a bunch of useless question marks. I decided to nickname him PoserMan in my head.

    I scrambled to at least fly in PoserMan¡¯s direction. Flying was a huge failure. I ran into another creepy tree and fell to the ground. Boxes appeared around me explaining that being bound for so long had damaged both normal flight skills and all [Focus] abilities. Oh well. The worst that would happen is my [Red Imp] self died to some super move. Maybe he would strike a pose and scream about unleashing a laser.

    While PoserMan failed to pose, my chubby arms and legs managed to coordinate a recovery. Requiem was off in the distance quickly dodging between a horde mob of giant rats. They looked more like dogs next to him. To me, these monsters were closer to horses.

    Requiem was a violent jerk who sounded childish, but he was also pretty good with the two swords. He slashed into one monster and shaved off most of the health bar. I tried to lift the silly pitchfork, but my tail still had a hold on it.

    Poor [Coordination], [Focus], and my tail conspired to plant the pitchfork into the ground at an angle. It was just enough that one of the giant rat mutants, who had been dodging away from Requiem, slammed into the propped up item and impaled itself. The rodent turned and snapped at my face.

    I did what any sane person with a complete lack of [Focus] and mental filters that were disabled would do.

    ¡°Bad doggy!¡± My chubby hand smacked the rat thing right in the face. It snarled and snapped. The desperate attempts at retaliation only drove its body further down the pitchfork''s spikes. I glared at the weapon and tried to figure out how it was so strong.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Results:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift]</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The details read almost like my normal weapon. Damage was above average for the path. There was a [Regeneration] effect. It was [Bound] to me. I had no idea what that would mean in the long run. For now it was pleasant to see Carver¡¯s gift carrying over to this latest task.

    ¡°Good! Kill another!¡± Requiem yelled an order at me. I didn¡¯t have much brain power to argue with the Traveler right now. Another two of the mad rat dog things were hovering nearby. They seemed slightly leery after their buddy died to my accidental impaling.

    ¡°You¡¯ll never stop me, Requisite Ass!¡± The other person taunted. I was too busy yanking out my pitchfork to give him much attention. Requiem was leaping after him.

    ¡°It¡¯s Requiem, you tool!¡± Requiem corrected the other person. There was a loud series of clangs as they swung weapons at each other.

    This pitchfork shared many of the same characteristics of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. I focused on shifting it to a long pole instead of the four-pronged tip that it had been.

    Weeks of practice with Shazam helped make the change smooth. My mental image wasn¡¯t exactly complex either. The weapon''s top slowly pulled through gory rat bits to merge into a single spike.

    In addition to better control over [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] I had also practiced a lot of situational awareness. For example, being single-minded in my focus on transforming the weapon meant two giant rat creatures had plenty of time to attack. My practice had failed me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Claws are bad, mkay?

    Total Damage: 48%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Voices above! One slight rake of the claw was enough to shave off a quarter of my health! I scrambled to dodge another attack. As Hermes I was used to using my legs. The natural reflex of kicking was useless with a [Red Imp]''s stubby legs. I wiggled them at the monster¡¯s face anyway while both wings hummed wildly.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    No really, stop doing that.

    Total Damage: 73%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Stabbings! Letthestabbings happen!¡± I kind of lost it at that point. Being a [Red Imp] made me small and weak. Once my hands were on the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] weeks of practice kicked in. This character was weak but insanely fast compared to the Hermes avatar.

    I turned and fluttered. What would have been a smooth extension of the current pike form into a rat''s eye ended up skewering its gut instead. That was less effective, messier, but still damaging. I retracted the weapon and turned it flat in time to block the gnashing teeth of an another attacker.

    ¡°Finally! You¡¯re useful!¡± Requiem Ass, Mass, whatever, was keeping an eye on me even while fighting. It irked me incredibly to get his commentary on my combat skills. I had only been playing for a month in real time. That was four months in game. I had a Masters in Business and Accounting, not a black belt in Stab-fu.

    I did manage to get back to the pitchfork form and sink the weapon deep into another rat¡¯s flank. He turned and squealed at me. Giant teeth snapped in my face and spittle flew everywhere. I quickly extended the handle a bit and flew backward into a tree.

    The latest rat turned and went for my arm. I yanked out my weapon and turned to beeline for Requiem Mass. Maybe, just maybe, he was looking away and wouldn¡¯t block this rat.

    Almost as soon as the thought occurred to me I crashed into the ground and skidded. Burning crawled across my neck¡¯s skin and something actually sizzled. Any grip I had on the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] faltered as hands tore at the object melting my flesh.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Violation of Traveler & Familiar contract, damage being issued. Punishments will increase in severity if further disregard is shown.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    No kidding, machine! And the giant rat monster I had been fighting was drawing closer. Two more hits from one of those and I would fall apart.

    ¡°Ahhh! Ihateit, I hate it!¡± Why did this punishment hurt more than the beatings from Requiem? Why did it hurt more than the teeth, claws and bites? It was like the ARC had kept everything peaceful until it needed to send home a punch.

    Death was an easy way out. This was just a game and it would plop me back in the Hermes character safe and happy. No. That would actually be bad. I had to kill Requiem somehow, not die sniveling about a lot of pain burning my flesh. Or I could log out.

    The pain stopped and left my character gasping and crawling around on the ground. Out of habit, I reached for my weapon.

    ¡°You and your little demon mongrel will not stop me from completing this quest!¡± PoserMan yelled.

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, Freakinstain!¡± Requiem Mass turned and threw something towards the rat attacking me. His projectile dug into the creature''s side and sent it tumbling. It collapsed a few feet away, heaving, and staring at me with hatred.

    ¡°It¡¯s Frankenstein!¡± The man with his funny neck piece and long coattails said. PoserMan would have been a better name.

    Darkness swept through the entire area. My vision flickered as things went from normal colors lit by a fire to a strange alternate vision. Everything seemed to be shades of black and white. I saw Requiem Mass cover his face and scowl. He swung around blindly with the sword that had smoke trails.

    Frankenstein turned and fled into the distance. His body seemed to be composed of multiple squiggling pieces that fluttered in one mass. Similar to how Jean, the Voice, and her clothing appeared.

    The lights came back to and Requiem was cursing at the empty space where he had been fighting. Next to me the giant rat breathed its last and fell limp.

    ¡°Worthless!¡± Requiem stomped over to me and kicked the rat in its head. ¡°You were meant to stop him from doing that!¡±

    ¡°What, what, whatare you. What?¡± My head shook back and forth in confusion. What the heck was Requisite Ass on about now?

    ¡°I summoned you so that you could see in the dark, and help me kill that fucker,¡± Requiem said through grinding teeth. Hadn¡¯t Requiem asked what use I would be? Clearly the young man already had a plan in mind.

    ¡°You¡¯re theidiot, you didn¡¯t tell methat!¡± I shouted rapidly.

    ¡°I did! And you didn¡¯t listen! But don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll work on your listening skills right now.¡± He said.

    ¡°No thanks, opting out,didn¡¯t signthe line¡± I tried to backup, My tail was going wild. Fighting back had proven a bit impossible due to the pain that burned at my neck every time I tried to disobey.

    ¡°Hold still,¡± Requiem said.

    I tried to back up anyway and the ARC feedback sent me to my knees. He reached down and smacked my small [Red Imp] form in the face. Then he punched me. My health bar dropped in chunks again.

    The beatings continued. My synchronization jumped up. I focused on watching it climb and tried not to think about what was happening to this character''s insides. It felt like having two headaches, banging my foot against a counter, and whacking my knee on a table all at the same time.

    I gasped and groaned. Somewhere in there one middle finger was raised up to his face. My chubby, little arms were normally red, but there were lots of purple and other bruises forming. One eye had almost swelled shut and my toes weren¡¯t responding right.

    ¡°Why won¡¯t pain break you?¡± He threw me off to one side and I rolled along the remains of broken trees. Weak chuckles made it out between gasps for air. This round was in my favor. Mental fortitude had won out against attempted abuse.

    The ARC¡¯s muted feedback had almost rigged it against Requiem. If this had been real life things would have gone the other direction. Poor Requiem. None of the AIs in Continue were that simple.

    ¡°You foolish, foolish, mortal.¡± I slowed down the words and scowled at Requiem. My mind scrambled to put together something suitably demonic. ¡°You know nothing of Hell. Physical pain is the least of life¡¯s traumas.¡±

    I could feel my thinned lips pull back in an unintentional snarl. The [Red Imp] body was expressive compared to normal me. None of that bothered me right now. I was angry at the Traveler and he was clearly full of his own rage.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Reward:

    For reaching 25% Synchronization, you will gain access to additional racial skills.

    Unlocked!

    Rank 1 synchronization ¨C Racial Passives increase.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Night Vision] now has an (Infrared) specialization</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Fire Resist] upgraded to [Fire Immunity]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Cold Weakness] has been added </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The Traveler drew his mouth tight and waved an arm. Everything faded away as summoned status slowly released. Maybe now I could see what was going on with my Hermes character.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Thirty One - What is love...

    <cite></cite>I watched the pretty swirl of lights pass by and came to in a confusing situation. My Hermes character was currently strapped onto the back of a horse thing. The first thing I noticed was a bobbing landscape filled with tiny pop-up boxes. A dozen of them stacked on one side and cited failed skill checks.

    ¡°Horsemanship?¡± I muttered out loud. Somehow my character was learning [Horsemanship] slowly. A system message happily informed me that any skills gained by my autopilot would be vastly reduced compared to normal play.

    Two of the strange mounts were present. They were like the ones from [Haven Valley]. William Carver''s character had been so near sighted that most things slipped by. It was way easier to see what they looked like now that my vision wasn¡¯t screwed up.

    The creature¡¯s ears were a bit too long and floppy. Their legs were thicker. I was riding the love child of a Clydesdale and an elongated rabbit. Plus they snickered instead of making nice normal horse whinnies.

    One was under me and plodding along. The second was being ridden by a woman in heavy looking plate armor. For a moment, I thought that Elane, or SheHulk, whatever, had come back to haunt me. This woman was much taller and almost seemed a giant on the back of her horse rabbit thing.

    ¡°What are these?¡± In all my weeks as William Carver, I hadn¡¯t paid much attention to the wildlife beyond [Coo-Coo Rill]s. A box displayed as the [Identification] skill kicked in. Great. They really were Horse Rabbits.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Race:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Caliburr]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Status :</td>

    <td colspan="3">Bored</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Caliburrs are used as long distance travelers Their top speed isn¡¯t very high, but they can travel for hours before needing to rest. They tend to travel in packs of two or three.

    Warning!

    Leaving two Caliburrs unattended for too long will result in a population explosion. Caliburr young often attract monsters of all sorts that may be hungry.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Something tiny yanked on my ear. A familiar clack of jaw muscles snapping shut at the end pointed to one culprit. The [Caliburr] under me let out another weird snicker and we kept moving along.

    ¡°Hey, how¡¯s it going?¡± I said to Dusk while raising a hand to pet him. The small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] actually perked up. ¡°Have you been helping Shazam babysit me?¡±

    Dusk nodded happily.

    ¡°I kind of expected you to turn up while I was over there with Requiem,¡± I told my little friend.

    He shook his head and a sad face with eye drops appeared in the thought bubble. That thing was amazingly handy at confirming how Dusk was feeling. Part of me wondered if Requiem Mass had one for my [Red Imp] body. Hopefully that thought bubble showed him being stabbed over and over.

    ¡°Aw, it¡¯s okay if you can¡¯t come. Someone has to keep my autopilot in line.¡± I said, to which the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] nodded. ¡°Where are we going anyway?¡±

    The [Messenger''s Pet] shrugged. I looked forward at Shazam. She had a hand on the lead for my [Caliburr] and was riding her own slowly. Shazam''s other hand was poking at the air nearby. Her expressionless gaze hadn''t faltered once in my presence.

    ¡°Hi, Shazam. I¡¯m back.¡± I said.

    She gave me a single thumbs up and went back to fiddling with something in front of her. I assumed it was a player interface of some sort. Shazam was actually one of the first people I had noticed using the interface like that. Most Travelers just went blank for a moment when focusing on system menus.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± I asked again.

    Shazam turned to look at me. She pointed to my side a few times. I looked down and saw the scroll case.

    ¡°Oh. Messenger stuff.¡± I said.

    She gave me a thumbs up again and turned back around.

    ¡°That reminds me, I spoke to your Voice,¡± I said. Shazam¡¯s Voice had been a slightly heavyset Voice who wore a lab coat. ¡°Irene, right? She seemed¡­¡± Nice was not the right word. ¡°Clinical.¡±

    Shazam gave me another thumbs up which made me frown. A simple acknowledgment was not the reaction I expected when talking about some one''s personal Voice. At least that wouldn¡¯t be my reaction. Was she really so passive to everything? If anyone else ran up to me and said ¡®I know you have an Ultimate Edition¡¯ my freak out meter would skyrocket. Even Beth didn¡¯t know.

    ¡°How much further?¡± I asked.

    She shrugged. Dusk had a thought bubble that showed a tiny version of himself and a small collection of buildings super far away.

    ¡°Oh? Are we going to a city?¡± I asked him. Shazam turned and gave me a backward glance. Her head bobbed in affirmation. She looked a lot different in the plate garb compared to our snowy mountain top furs.

    ¡°And you¡¯re going with me?¡± I waited, but she had stopped answering my questions. A minute passed before I realized she had gone into autopilot mode. There was a clear symbol next to her head that depicted a tiny bed.

    ¡°Guess it¡¯s just us,¡± I said to Dusk. He huffed and took flight off across the landscape. ¡°Or just me.¡±

    I needed time to situate myself anyway. This was my first time on a real road outside of town and I wanted to relish the change of pace. The scenery felt like every documentary of old England to show on television. Rolling countryside, gray skies in the distance, trees, all of it was pleasantly normal.

    My prior adventures had amounted to sitting in a town, crawling through a cave fighting mud golems, and weeks on the top of a snowy mountain. It would be much neater if I could ride a giant flying creature over the lands.

    The [Caliburr] shuddered. Teeth rattled and everything about me shook the beast huffed and sniffled. Bindings across my legs held in place amid messages of skill checks regarding [Horsemanship] and [Reaction]. I grabbed the saddle in front of me and prayed that this violent seizure thing wouldn¡¯t send me flying. Moments later it settled and we started forward again.

    I tilted my head to look at the giant creature moving along under me. One eye stared back for just a moment before its ear batted and I was dismissed. Shazam¡¯s creature had done the same violent shaking process, but her character seemed completely undisturbed. Even her autopilot was cool and unflappable.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    Younger Caliburrs are prone to shudders. They see an increase in overall speed but require a higher level of skill to ride.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Oh.¡± There was another box about my skill going up simply for surviving the shuddering action from my [Caliburr]. That was probably the reason Shazam had us on these things. She had given me training in the mountains following the same pattern.

    Muteness had not prevented Shazam from succeeding at this game. Her skills as a teacher seemed focused on subjecting me to varied experiences. As a result, there were a lot of random skills on my character sheet.

    Nothing on it was super amazing or world nuking. The game seemed to think I did slightly more damage with my right hand, but I was a lefty. Closing my eyes allowed my sense of smell to increase slightly. The hatred of bugs I had started weeks ago was fully developed. All sorts of weird things like that.

    My player inventory was also a cluster of random items. Most of the things we picked up in the mountains were used right away as food or crafting supplies. Shazam had been in charge of nearly everything with regards to monster remains. I didn¡¯t care about the loot. Why should I fight over a [Goo Pile] or [Furry Eyebrow]?

    ¡°Alright. Hat, check.¡± [Wild Bill] was back on my head where it belonged. It gave enough shade to block out the worst of the sun''s glare. ¡°Morrigu¡¯s Gift, shoes, no cloak.¡±

    My gear was the basic Travelers Garb I had been plopped into the woods with. Maybe there was something neat at a store to pick up. That might be fun. Suddenly part of me wanted to go shopping just to see what was available.

    I wondered if it was possible to send things in-game to other players. Maybe there was a souvenir in town that I could mail to Beth. Or better yet I could send one to Elane that said ¡®Thanks for the memories¡¯. The idea was quashed as it occurred to me. Being a jerk to her over our past wasn¡¯t fair.

    Time passed slowly in-game. Nothing in my player inventory looked entertaining. I poked a finger and moved system windows around randomly. Something new appeared on my interface. What was this now? A box for quest items? Somehow that had escaped my notice earlier.

    I clicked one of them and pulled it out of inventory. What appeared in my hand was a scroll. The parchment was wrapped by a small piece of twine. Pulling on the string caused a system message to pop up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">A Word of Power</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Varied</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Subject Shazam has displayed the following issues:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Mute</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Expressionless </li>

    </ul>

    Scans of her bio-metrics display no reason that her functionality should be limited in our world. Defects regarding a lack of vocal expression should be resolved upon transition of consciousness.

    Extrapolation: Subject Shazam may be suffering from lingering emotional impairment from the other world. Please seek additional information regarding her original life and provide it to me.

    Reward: Subject to usefulness of information provided

    See additional data file.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The words ¡®see additional data file¡¯ floated above the quest text. I pressed a finger towards the interface a video screen came into being and started playing.

    ¡°You have typed out the word Shazam as a character name. Why?¡± Irene was measuring something in a vial while Shazam stood there. It looked like they were both in the same character creation black zone that I had visited so many times before.

    It was mildly interesting to see normal Shazam. She wore a sundress that hung loosely. There was a belt that seemed almost too straight. Shazam had no slouch, no turn of body, her entire form was rigid and faced a single direction. Dark skin still barely hid her freckles.

    There was a keyboard in front of her. Fingers tapped against the projection and finally a series of words appeared.

    I admire the idea that someone can gain power simply by speaking a word.

    The video imagery cut off. Clearly the word Shazam meant something in the real world. It wasn¡¯t anything special right now so I put the research topic on my mental pile. These types of things were done while sitting in my Trillium van. For now I would accept the quest and move onward.

    Next, figuring out these remaining scrolls. The one for this latest quest had crumbled to pieces. There were four more all with destinations and names attached. Were these players too?

    I picked up each parchment and watched a distance quest marker appear on the horizon. None were close by. Shazam must communicate somehow with the Voices or she would never randomly escort me off the mountain. I would have to ask what her trick was. Whenever she got back from autopilot.

    Dusk hopped around in the shrubbery nearby. He set his vicious thoughts upon chasing some slithering creature through the bushes. I could barely see a tiny bubble of thought bounding around. It seemed like typical Dusk actions so far. New place, murder the local critters and declare superiority, move on.

    Hours passed in-game while I looked around and fiddled with my inventory. Most of my extra time was spent trying to shift [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into different forms. A pole had been the first alternate shape after my walking staff form. The arm length dagger was new. Eventually, the silly thing would be able to transform into a wide range.

    Transforming the object around interested me. It wasn''t about finding the perfect shape to play with. My [Blade Dancer] path focused on large weapons which clearly suited me. Switching around [Morrigu''s Gift] just kept me from being bored. One day I would find something else to play with while traveling.

    Finally, things grew too dull. I logged out and handled the necessities of life. My home''s digital projection hookup allowed me to monitor Continue Online remotely with ease. A small box floated near me in real life. If I switched rooms, so did the projection. The only thing on my ARC television was a picture of Hermes looking bored and strapped to the [Caliburr].

    There was a moment of excitement as Dusk landed. He seemed displeased with the autopilot status and huffed at my video game character''s face. Real me absently watched it all while sipping coffee. I was distracted trying to figure out sleep. It had been pretty broken since starting Continue Online.

    Home felt too cramped and boring. I took a walk to clear my head. Stepping outside also made me feel like a real human being who didn¡¯t just sit and play video games all day.

    Living in Continue Online for so many hours had almost distracted me from the technological advances of the real world. Compared to the leather straps holding Hermes in place on the back of a [Caliburr] everything out here was beyond space age.

    Our world had been flooded with innovations in the last decade. Going into the supermarket resulted in targeted adds that picked my name and purchase history out of a line. The audio was basically beamed at my location by an overhead system. There was a mute button that was accessible floating off to one side. I had to suffer through five seconds of advertisements first.

    Cars zipped down the street and dropped people off. People got out and the cars moved on to other users. Some places didn¡¯t own their own vehicles and instead pooled together to rent two or three automated cars for a neighborhood. It was great for poor areas and a lot cheaper.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Walking home showed roads with sidewalks that illuminated by using stored solar power. They were less offensive than the lamp overheads of twenty years ago. All of these lights were managed by a hub every few blocks. Hubs were mounted on pillars that stood two stories tall and ran facial recognition software. For two dollars a month, I could choose to highlight the sidewalk around me in green instead of the standard blue.

    Decades ago people had wondered how far was ''too far'' with regards to the Internet and technological monitoring. Ten years ago there had been movements demanding a ban on the higher end products. Now those people who cared could move to areas that were nearly blacked out from the more modern inventions. It was weird to think that ten percent of the population wanted to be stuck in the past.

    We, humanity, had worked hard at arguing with each other over new inventions and the illusion of privacy. I was okay living in my neighborhood where it felt like things were convenient, but big brother wasn¡¯t breathing down my neck.

    A robotic lawn mower was busy cleaning up one man''s lawn. It trimmed hedges, edged sidewalks and even spouted a ¡®Hello¡¯ as I walked by. Three children shot by while playing digital laser tag. All these things felt normal compared to the fantasy world within Continue.

    After two hours of head clearing, I wound my way back home. This was the world that Xin and I had lived in. This wonderland of technology wasn¡¯t in Continue Online. The closest thing inside my game were pop-up boxes with information.

    It was funny. All these advances, and I spent my time inside a game stabbing monsters with a sword that didn¡¯t really exist. Digital immersion was by far one of the scariest bits of modern technology available to humanity.

    When I was inside the ARC everything felt real. I laughed, I cried, I interacted with a pet that could have put Mister Sniffles to shame. It felt like real life. Our minds were at the mercy of the machine and we just accepted it.

    Getting out of the house was an excuse. The last few days had dumped loads of information upon me. What I needed was time to process. Hadn¡¯t I told James long ago that both sides were real? Hadn¡¯t I danced with a false version of my fiancee to not feel lonely?

    To Xin, or whatever compilation of memories she was, it would be utterly real. To her, it was everything. That was the angle I had to approach things from. What did this recreation of Xin see? What would she care?

    I logged back into the ARC with a firm plan in mind. Real Grant lay calmly on a cleverly costumed machine. Digitally, inside Hermes, my legs were still strapped to the [Caliburr]. The sun was setting and our mounts were slowing down. Dusk had curled up for a nap on one shoulder while his tail anchored around my neck.

    Everything had to start with contacting my personal Voice. Items were pulled out of player inventory. A message was penned to James asking, ¡®I would like to send Xin a letter. How can I do that?¡¯.

    ¡°Seriously?¡± A good ten minutes had passed in-game and there was no answer yet. I outright asked James a question by putting his stupid name at the memo''s top.

    I rattled my tube around and waited for heat or chill or something to kick in. There was no solid result one way or the other. The top was unscrewed and the inside was annoyingly empty. Fine.

    ¡°Shazam!¡± She was still away. Her autopilot was leading us off to one side of the road.

    I had a vague idea of how to set up camp from off and on practice in the mountains. Shazam¡¯s autopilot was pulling out gear mechanically and putting up two tents. We hadn¡¯t used tents before on the mountain. There we stuck to caves. Part of me wondered exactly how much gear she had packed away.

    Unstrapping myself looked simple enough. There was a knot near the saddle''s front that could easily be undone. Halfway through untangling the bindings my [Caliburr]s started shuddering. The violent movements sent me off to one side. Large clawed feet bucked and almost tore my face. I rolled to one side in panic and stood up.

    Shazam''s autopilot seemed undisturbed and had started cooking. I brushed myself off and tried to pretend a giant rabbit hadn''t almost crushed my head. Besides, Shazam''s cooking was great. Mechanical, but tasty. It was like her mind sorted everything away into perfect formulas and put things together with precise measurements.

    I glared at the giant [Caliburr] and tried to figure out what to do. Typically my role in camp set up was non-existent. Shazam was too efficient. Maybe one day I would find a good hobby. Finally after twenty minutes Shazam logged back in.

    ¡°Hey. I had a question.¡± I was happy that Shazam always seemed to respond right away. She frequently logged in and out throughout any given day.

    Shazam took both thumbs and alternated lifting them in the air. Our poor communication skills meant that she was asking for more information. At least that¡¯s what it normally meant.

    ¡°So I have an Ultimate Edition, and I was told you do too,¡± I said.

    She blinked slowly and kept up the cooking without missing a beat. Items spilled out of player inventory onto a small table that had been unpacked. Shazam piled them together and diced up an object that looked like an onion but was green.

    ¡°Do,¡± Oh this was going to sound crazy, ¡°the Voices talk to you? I mean they must give you quests or something.¡±

    She nodded slowly.

    ¡°How do they talk to you?¡± Thankfully my crazy talking hadn¡¯t made her think less of me at all. Of course, this young woman had put my character in painful situations for weeks on end.

    Shazam put both hands up next to her head and pantomimed sleeping.

    ¡°In your dreams?¡± I asked.

    She nodded and took out spices. They were thrown into a travel sized cooking pan and everything sizzled. Her autopilot was a master at starting fires. Mine was a master at humming and tapping its foot when left alone.

    ¡°Like in real life, or in the ARC?¡± I said.

    Shazam pointed one finger down briefly. Okay, so she slept in-game and the Voices sent her messages while sleeping? Why had that never worked for me? I had been exhausted and unconscious in the game a few times. Not once did any of the Voices visit me. Well aside from dying once and being intercepted by that Jester figure. Its interference with my normal failure process had been limited to one instance so far.

    I chewed on my lip. Shazam handed me a piece of meat and pointed to the fire. Right, even the simple act of roasting it would help my meager cooking skills. In real life, I had turned into a microwave meal and take-out eater. The only homemade meals available to me were on holidays and what Xin had insisted on making when she was home.

    Xin.

    ¡°Shazam. Have you ever met anyone you know from real life in here?¡± I asked.

    She nodded then shrugged. I took that to mean yes but it that they weren¡¯t close.

    ¡°You¡¯ve done player versus player right?¡± I switched tactics. Maybe she had some advice on how to handle Requiem.

    Shazam seemed to have done a little bit of everything based on my experiences with her. She nodded while I went about my poor attempts at cooking. It boiled down to shoving a stick through the meat and hanging it over a flames.

    ¡°Do you know how to win against a player you¡¯re not allowed to attack?¡± I asked. Her achievements were insanely far above my own if she was leading a guild.

    She tilted her head while the last of our cooking supplies were wrapped up. Items vanished away into her inventory. Soon Shazam was left with only food in a bowl.

    ¡°Right. Well, if you think of anything I¡¯m all ears.¡± I said.

    Shazam went about eating while I pondered other situations. It was perplexing that we were allowed to exit [Camp Grey Skull] with ease. I checked my player map. It was slowly gathering a reasonable amount of data. Though there was still no connection between the old [Haven Valley] information and my current location. [Camp Grey Skull] was already a few days behind us.

    ¡°So, should we be letting those Caliburrs close to each other?¡± I pointed at the two giant horse rabbit monsters. They were already sniffing each other.

    Shazam gave a thumbs down and set her food onto the ground. I watched a series of almost mechanical movements as she stood up and walked towards them clapping loudly. They both perked their heads up to stare at Shazam.

    ¡°Need help?¡± I asked.

    She shook her head briefly and proceeded to separate them. One was tied in place and the other bolted to a location twenty feet away.

    I tried to scroll through my autopilot''s history even further. The bits of information being presented painted a simple enough picture. According to the computer''s text I had fallen, nearly died, been healed, walked down the mountain and picked up two [Catiburr]s for travel.

    The last of my meal was slowly chewed. This was kind of neat. We must have left right after my character exited the glitch space. Oh, that reminded me of another issue. I flipped back through information logs and walls of text from my autopilot time in order to figure out how the bug reporting process had gone.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    Reward issued. Please access the nearest Porter for your reward.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was ground into the dirt. Its staff form was handy for taking my frustrations out on local fauna and geology. Now there were two reasons for reaching a Porter.

    Finally, my tube for sending messages to the Voices started rapidly warming. I set down [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and tore off one end of the case. A message plopped out.

    Shazam was watching with a passive expression. If her meal was hot she showed no concern. I read the results from James eagerly.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes,

    I am pleased to hear from you. How is your mission with Requiem Mass progressing?

    - James

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Damn.¡± Right, James wanted answers before providing much in the way of information.

    Shazam put out one hand towards the letter in my hand. Providing her the letter wouldn¡¯t hurt anything and might also help in completing the quest with her. I forked the parchment over and went about answering James.

    My silent babysitter pointed at the response I was writing.

    ¡°Oh. I¡¯m writing to my Voice, I chose James.¡±

    She put her thumbs up and did the ¡®which¡¯ gesture. Shazam likely wanted more information so I started rambling while trying to scribble out a status up.

    ¡°I chose a Voice named James. He¡¯s a large black guy who loves asking questions.¡± I said.

    Shazam gave a thumbs up and did the ¡®which¡¯ gesture again.

    ¡°He¡¯s nice enough, but there¡¯s always extra hoops to jump through. How is your Voice? Does she at least answer your questions?¡± I had to figure out how to get Shazam talking about herself.

    The response was a thumb down.

    ¡°No? She doesn¡¯t answer your questions?¡± I asked. Shazam shook her head in the negative and then shrugged. She pointed at the quill and parchment in my hands.

    ¡°Hold on. I¡¯ll read it.¡± I wrapped up my message to James and decided to read it out loud to Shazam.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure about this player Requiem Mass. He responds with violence when angered and is fighting against some other Traveler. I need to observe them more before figuring out how to overcome my bindings.¡± The message should be clear enough for James.

    Shazam didn¡¯t show any signs of having suggestions on my text. I shrugged and sent the message through the tube. Now would begin another round of waiting. Shazam stared at me for a moment longer and nodded slowly. Moments later she was unrolling the rest of our campsite. One finger pointed towards a cot for me while she went into another tent and closed the flap.

    ¡°Thanks for taking care of me,¡± I said towards her tent. There was no response from her in any fashion.

    Being alone in the wilderness had been odd the first few nights. Most of the time I logged off and let the autopilot do its thing. Who would actually sleep in-game? The few times I had tried left me feeling even less rested than before.

    An hour later and my Voice finally sent a response.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes,

    You are doing the right thing by observing the Traveler Requiem Mass. He has been a problem for Jean and many of us hope you will be able to find an avenue that we have not. He is amazingly cautious for a Traveler.

    Regarding your original question. Contacting Xin can be done. We will only be able to send one message a day. Anything more risks unwanted attention at this stage. Simply address the letter to her name as you would to one of us.

    Would you like to send her a message?

    - James

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I scribbled yes down onto another of my endless parchment supply. The next question was trying to figure out exactly what to say to Xin.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Xin Yu,

    You may not believe it, but I finally learned to dance...

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I laughed to myself and tried not to feel emotionally torn up inside. She was dead, but she was alive. I was writing her a letter in a fantasy world camped out next to creatures that were both horses and rabbits. Maybe none of this was real, maybe I had finally broken down and disconnected from everything else in the world

    More words were put to paper, parts were crossed out and hastily reworded. There was only so much sunlight left and I had to try and tell her everything while trying not to sound desperate. Anything in hopes that she would write me back an equally long letter. Finally, the sun had vanished completely. Even Dusk was passed out next to me looking content from his excursions.

    The message was slowly put into the tube. Once again the insanity of my situation raised concern. None of this would have even seemed possible to me if I hadn¡¯t seen William Carver¡¯s autopilot.

    What was it that little girl Voice had said? Some people have more of them here than others. Trillium¡¯s Vice President Riley had advised me that Xin was one of the first testers of an ARC. If William Carver and his virtual years within Continue had created someone so lifelike, wouldn¡¯t Xin Yu be that much more real?

    What did we define as a person anyway? Was it the sum of their memories? Was there something more?

    A box popped up notifying me that my consciousness was being relocated. Part of me welcomed the distraction of Requiem Mass and his arrogant point of view. It was that or bite my nails for hours wondering exactly what Xin might write and exactly how insane this all was.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Thirty Two â€“ To the Letter

    <cite></cite>Requiem Mass was busy cleaning up the latest round of monsters to be hunted down. He kept counting to himself while muttering about how a billion more were needed in order to make some recipe. Honestly anytime Requiem opened his mouth I started to lose focus.

    For three game days, we had been chasing down these zombie monkey creatures and chopping their tails off. My job was either to be bait or something similar. Nothing was working as I had hoped.

    ¡°Hold that one! Right now!¡± Requiem shouted. He pointed one hand at a middle ranked monkey. This one was slightly bigger than the others.

    I gave in to the order. This wasn¡¯t the type of thing worth fighting over anyway. Death by monster just meant finally returning to the Hermes body.

    ¡°Keep holding him!¡± The Traveler ordered. One of his hands slipped a sword into its holster and generated a giant trail of flame. It licked across the landscape and tore into the undead monkey I was grappling.

    The heat felt warm and mildly pleasant. That was a change from Requiem¡¯s normal idea of discipline. Messages of [Fire Immunity] rippled across my screen as the last of the flames passed and the monkey screamed loudly before collapsing.

    ¡°Another one!¡± Requiem pointed to our next target. These undead had no brains or they would run. ¡°Hold that one! Right now!¡±

    Some skirmishes were easier to find opportunities for Requiem¡¯s murder than others. The system was tracking my attempts happily and the totals were getting high. I had defied him forty-six times. I had followed instructions erroneously sixteen times. Two direct attacks failed to succeed. Efforts to launch the shape-shifting [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] through his backside ended up as a nearly comical poke.

    That event made me laugh myself silly and resulted in another beating. My [Red Imp] character did not have the acting chops of my primary one. Hermes could have probably dropped a tree on Requiem and gotten away with a single ¡®oops¡¯. That had worked for me within the resurrection zone.

    Hours after our monkey fighting, Requiem settled down for sleep and left me with an order to gather herbs. For two game hours, I gathered plants from all over the area. There were stacks of badly uprooted plants that were about to be used in another virtual murder attempt.

    Now they were being returned, in mass, all at once and over his stupid snoring face. Hopefully, he would breathe them in and choke. I was constantly trying to figure out the fine line on what the system allowed and didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Mmfgh!¡± Requiem sat up spitting out a ton of small leaves. While he sputtered I dropped two more armfuls on his face from above. ¡°What the, what is this?!¡±

    ¡°Herb forpotion things!¡± I shouted happily. Slowly these skills would pay off. [Identification] let me find a few poison plants to insert with my presents. ¡°I gatheredthem, just like youordered!¡±

    He ignored my shouts which meant my latest attempt had failed. The only consolation was that Requiem¡¯s sleep was ruined. He put all the items into player inventory then collapsed with exhaustion. I was unsure why he didn¡¯t log out to sleep like a normal person.

    Eight hours of rest in-game was only two hours in the real world. His brain must be half broken to keep up that schedule for long. When I came back with a second mass of plants and threw them at his face the results were predictable. He sputtered and brushed off dirt, leaves, and other goo. Moments later I was ordered to stand in one place all night and not move.

    Requiem refused to let my summons release for whatever reason. Still, his actions did me no harm. I logged out and went to sleep. Sticking around only increased my synchronization bar. Three in-game days had ground my bar up to fifty percent. The reward was neat.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Reward:

    For reaching 50% Synchronization, you will gain further access to racial skills.

    Unlocked!

    Rank 2 synchronization ¨C additional changes

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Blink] Racial skill developed</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Fire Resist] upgraded to [Flame Regeneration] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    [Red Imp]s had proven amusing, except for the whole stumpy legs that were unable to dance. Humming still worked until Requiem ordered a cessation of the noise forever. The young Traveler seemed intent upon micromanaging me into oblivion.

    On the plus side, three days of flying around in-game had improved my coordination with these wings. I was fairly confident in being able to avoid most tree trunks. Finer hairpin turns were still beyond me.

    [Blink] was even neater and insanely hard to use. It would teleport me a short distance according to the text. There was no solid trigger at the moment. It wasn¡¯t like I could shout ¡®Blink!¡¯ and change locations. The game relied heavily on mental imagery similar to [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. My few private attempts had awkwardly missed the target.

    I refused to show [Blink] in front of Requiem Mass. That young man was driving me insane with his conniving attitude. The minute I showed any new skill he found a way to abuse it. [Fire Immunity] resulted in holding rotting monkeys with rectal problems while trying not to retch.

    After a good rest, I loaded up my remote ARC display to see what was going on. Requiem was busy forcing my [Red Imp] avatar to lure in more undead monkeys. I found myself laughing around breakfast as the [Red Imp] stabbed monkeys out of decrepit trees right about Requiem''s head. One, two, and finally twelve rotting monsters were brought down. The autopilot went quickly and tried to aggro the entire region.

    Requiem just took it. I snickered to myself, finished the remaining food, and logged into my ARC. Something had shown in the side of my Continue Online remote display that required a personal touch. Maybe attempt thirty-eight at digital elimination would be effective.

    Once inside I paused and spun around. Getting my bearings always took a moment. There was a specific area that had caught my attention.

    ¡°Imp!¡± Requiem was shouting at me while monkeys gibbered.

    The realism in this game had taken weeks to get over. Even now they kept throwing new gross objects at me. These simians¡¯ mouths were falling apart. Some had broken jaws. Others had mold-ridden tails and most had no control over their sphincters.

    ¡°What?¡± I shouted. Requiem Mass was to the left. Monsters were all around us. That meant my target was forward and right.

    ¡°Fight these monsters!¡± Requiem yelled.

    ¡°Yes, Requisite Ass! Right away!¡± I shouted while flying at high speed. I had no clue what the Traveler had ordered me to do.

    There, just past a motley series of trees was my goal. A monstrous rotten ape that was hidden away. My unique remote view of the [Red Imp] had happened upon the boss level creature. The autopilot would never have noticed it.

    ¡°No! Fight these ones over here!¡± Requiem ordered me. He was busy shouting over the crazy monkeys'' garbled chattering.

    ¡°When?¡± I shouted back with my high pitched imp body. It bought a few more seconds for this reckless idea. The boss giant ape thing was just through the wall of withered bushes. I lined up my pitchfork weapon.

    ¡°What is wrong with you?!¡± Requiem demanded. The answer was clear, a lot of things were wrong with me. ¡°Now, of course! Now!¡±

    I braced myself against the impending damage for insubordination. Now was far too absolute a word. The [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] elongated quickly and jabbed towards its target.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Ignored an Order

    Total Damage: 18%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Pain tore at my neck. The monster I had poked also let loose its gurgled roar. A [Dazed] message appeared complete with an associated symbol. Next to that was a countdown. My tiny [Red Imp] mouth spewed forth a long line of words that had to be curses in demonic. I tried to flutter the tiny wings on my back and return to Requiem Mass.

    The monster burst through the bushes behind me as I regained enough control to lift off. A small box appeared telling me exactly what I had stabbed.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Results:</td>

    <td colspan="3">The Biggest Butthole - Unique</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank :</td>

    <td colspan="3">Extra Large</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    He¡¯s big. He¡¯s hairy. He¡¯s kind of a jerk. This monster will chew you up and crap you out because that¡¯s the kind of creature he is¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Ifound one!¡± I shouted while fluttering madly.

    ¡°No, you worthless idiot!¡± Requiem was waving his hands and a message popped up on my screen. I had managed to right my flying enough to speed at the Traveler. Behind me, branches cracked under the pressure of a thundering beast.

    What was he doing? Things were going to be neat in just a moment! The Biggest Butthole was like two rotting [Snowmen] shoved together. Even I could handle that. Give or take whatever super powers a unique creature had.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Your summon status is being released.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Nowait, thisone needs stabbings!¡± That wasn¡¯t what I wanted at all! He was too far away. ¡°Allthe stabbings!¡± The Biggest Butthole verses Requisite Ass would be a glorious fight to instigate. Who would win? Would Requiem be chewed up and spit out? These questions demanded answers.

    ¡°Nooo!¡± The scene in front of me swirled away in a wash of colors. Fine. I couldn¡¯t win them all.

    When everything synced up with the Hermes character I was in a town. I grumbled for a good ten minutes before sighing and letting the disappointment fade away. Now was the time to be positive. That latest attempt had been a good one. Plus the autopilot for Hermes had finally made it to a decently sized town!

    This place was nothing like [Haven Valley]. My starter town from the Age of Carver had been scenic and peaceful. Here the buildings were far more militaristic in design. [Haven Valley] had small guard posts. This place had huge walls separating portions of the city. People in armor patrolled the tops of walls and were clearly equipped with swords and horns.

    Shazam passed a hand in front of my face. I turned to look at her. Her arms waved around and she pointed to a few of the buildings nearby. I followed her gaze to a series of shops. Oh. She must be asking if I wanted to get anything.

    ¡°I need to visit a porter!¡± I shouted. Working with Requiem had warped my speech habits a little. Passersby looked at me oddly. Shazam nodded and our two [Caliburrr]s changed directions.

    There were a lot of Travelers like myself running around. They all wore different items and pieces of equipment. There were a few that clearly followed warrior paths. I could make out some in decorative clothing that likely had no combat value. One lady was escorting a giant creature that looked like a wingless dragon. Its eyes had no focus.

    I took it all in happily. Being in a city was so much better than the dead scenery of Requiem¡¯s location. Everything there was either rotting or decrepit. His mind had to be warped to stand being there for months in game.

    Oh! There was one issue far more important to me than Requiem¡¯s silly problems. By now I should have a response from Xin. Hopefully. I scrambled to find the messenger¡¯s tube. My channel to the Voices above was inside my leather chest piece. As I twisted off the top and peeked inside a system message popped into view.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Consciousness Relocation in progress.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Seriously? I hate you so much!¡± I shook my free fist at the system box. It did no good. ¡°I don¡¯t want to!¡±

    People looked at me weird. I looked at my pop-up messages with confusion. The [Caliburr]s were probably winking at each other. Shazam didn¡¯t bat an eyelash. Then pain rippled through me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Summons resisted!

    New skill created, [Resist Summons]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What the?¡± My neck burned. I was in the Hermes character and pain was trying to send me to the ground. This character was not the [Red Imp]! The bar for my health dropped ten percent.

    Shazam raised an eyebrow and pointed. I groaned as another wave of agony passed along with a summons resisted message. My fingers tried to pull out the parchment barely visible inside the messenger¡¯s tube. Another bout of agony nearly knocked me out of the straps holding me on the [Caliburr]. Each wave was doing more damage. I shook and ground my teeth together while trying to read a few lines.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Gee,

    Do you remember what my father said? He found so much about America strange and used to say ¡®When in Rome, do as the Romans do¡¯. This place isn¡¯t Rome, Gee.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My eyes clenched tightly and I tried not to lose it. Gee. That was her name for me. It was Xin, it had to be her somehow. There was an insane wall of text to go through, but I held off on reading it as emotions racked through me.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    I didn¡¯t feel actual pain anymore. It was like those few lines had washed all the worry away and left behind euphoria. My eyes opened to read the remaining text. Only now there was no parchment, no messenger¡¯s tube, no [Caliburr].

    Chubby, reddened hands held a tight grip upon the blackened pitchfork. Requiem was snarling nearby. I started shaking and huffing. Never had I been more upset at another human being. There was so much more in that letter and it wasn¡¯t in my chubby little hands!

    ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?¡± Requiem said. There were deader monkeys all around him. He was busy picking through bodies and tearing off pieces.

    ¡°Whatswrong with me? Me!¡± I broke and tried to stab him repeatedly with the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you! I¡¯ll killyou, youstupid self-centered little brat!¡±

    ¡°Little? That rich, coming from an imp.¡± He shook his head and stood there. ¡°You can¡¯t hurt me.¡± Each attempt at stabbings failed. My health kept falling. The pain was nothing against my sheer anger. ¡°Stop that,¡± Requiem ordered.

    I paused briefly to obey then drove the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] at his face. It fell short by almost half a foot, but Requiem still flinched.

    ¡°How are you doing that?¡± He managed to regain control of his broken voice.

    ¡°Ido exactly asyou ordered.¡± Shouting it out loud sent a moment of clarity through me. I was only playing around with words and not truly using them to their fullest effect.

    ¡°For like, two seconds.¡± He stooped back down to work on gathering more loot items. I jammed the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] at one of the deceased monkeys and tried my darnedest to ruin the items.

    ¡°Stop attacking me and go stand over there until I tell you to stop,¡± Requiem said while pointing a finger off to one side.

    ¡°It¡¯s notmyfault you¡¯re stupid,¡± I said. Jabbing him was clearly impossible. There was something to his question, though. Timeout was a good place to think. My mind ran through the rules again.

    Rule one. I must do exactly as Requiem ordered. This one I had spent the better part of two real days playing around with. It was easy enough to bend this portion all up one side and down the other. If he didn¡¯t add a duration to his order I could obey it for seconds or forever.

    Rule two, I couldn¡¯t lie to him. Most of the methods around this had involved clever wordplay with my answers. It was very hard to actually lie because Continue Online was making my [Red Imp] body say things too quickly.

    Rule three was the problem. My issue was that I had been looking at it all wrong. His order had been to not directly harm him or conspire. I logged out of Continue briefly and left the [Red Imp]¡¯s auto pilot running. In my Atrium, I shouted a command line.

    ¡°ARC, define conspire,¡± I told the machine.

    ¡°Conspire, make secret plans jointly to commit an unlawful or harmful act.¡± The machine answered.

    I smiled. That was the answer. Requiem had prevented doing things in secret and directly harming him. If I worked with monster NPCs then that was conspiring. If I openly arranged accidents then it wasn¡¯t a conspiracy. That¡¯s why throwing a pile of leaves in his mouth worked but luring mobs to him caused pain.

    Once back into Continue Online I turned around and stared at Requiem. He was trying to loot another monster. I whipped out the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] at the bodies he was trying to skin. My suddenly extended pitchfork skewed one of the creature''s eyes.

    ¡°Why do you insist on bending the rules? Do I not feed you enough cupcakes or something?¡± Requiem just rolled his eyes at my latest attempt to interfere.

    ¡°It¡¯s notmyfault you¡¯re stupid,¡± I said to him again. ¡°Toostupid. I¡¯m going, to get you, killed.¡±

    That made Requiem stare at me. My wide grin all full of teeth must have disturbed him. He actually blanched. A moment later and the expression was gone as the Traveler studied me.

    ¡°How? You were ordered not to harm me.¡± Requiem sounded exactly like a spoiled teenage brat melting down.

    ¡°Hah!¡± I outright laughed and tried to give it my best imp tone. ¡°Slow dumbbrain.¡± The synchronization bar constantly flipped up and down depending on how fast or slow I talked.

    ¡°I order you to tell me exactly how you plan to get me killed.¡± Requiem¡¯s hand sat on one of his two swords. His other arm was inside a pocket grabbing at something.

    ¡°Say the rules forme, onemore time.¡± I chattered happily. Requiem went through the first two. My grin was even wider than normal when mocking the other Traveler. I took delight in seeing Requiem¡¯s eyes widen as we both recited the last rule.

    ¡°You cannot harm me directly or conspire to harm me,¡± He said.

    ¡°Dingding ding!¡± I spun the pitchfork and planted it into the ground triumphantly. ¡°Conspire is defined as secret plans jointly. Not asecret anymore! I want youtodie!¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Progress Event]!

    You have further clarified the contract between you and Requiem Mass! How you use this knowledge is up to you. Be aware [Red Imp] that your contractor now knows what you intend.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What?¡± He asked.

    ¡°I, want, you, to, die.¡± I could understand why [Red Imp]s disliked slow people. Just this conversation was irritating me.

    ¡°You still can¡¯t harm me directly.¡± Requiem curled his lips and lost color. I started laughing. This was a clear way to get to Requiem. ¡°Why must you continue to argue with me, why can¡¯t you do what I want?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s more tolife than the self-centered demands ofaboy such as yourself.¡± I bit each word out. This whole situation had pissed me off.

    ¡°You know nothing of what I¡¯ve been through.¡± He said.

    ¡°You giveme no timetomy self.¡± I looked at him. Maybe Requiem would get so pissed that my summons would be released and this game would return to the Hermes program. Reading the remaining letter was important. Seeing a Porter would help me get a glitch reward and contact Beth in-game.

    Requiem nodded slowly as his lips curled downward. The nodding quickly accelerated and he looked off to where The Biggest Butthole had been. ¡°Fine. Let''s try something different.¡±

    Both eyes rolled so hard I almost passed out. The ground around me was completely gross and my legs were half sunk into it. This was the type of disgusting environment that Requiem had stuck me with for days.

    ¡°Stand here. Don¡¯t move. At all. Do that and I¡¯ll let you have a day off afterward. You spend it in hell hole you came from.¡± Requiem tilted his head and stared at me. ¡°Deal?¡±

    I smiled. This was a win-win for me. ¡°Whynot? Sure.¡±

    Requiem turned away. He clearly intended to put my [Red Imp] self in its place. I watched his actions happily. Whatever he planned would probably be neat. It would also show me how far he could go.

    Where was he walking? That direction is where the unique mob The Biggest Butthole was. Did he intend on actually fighting the creature? Oh neat, Requiem totally did.

    He pulled one of his seemingly endless supply of throwing knives and tossed it straight through the dead bushes towards The Biggest Butthole. Air vibrated as the creature let out a roar. I was far enough away that no daze notification popped up. Requiem didn¡¯t seem to be impacted as he pulled back a bit.

    Then things got really crazy. Normally only the blades in his hands had any sort of special effects. Requiem often used fire and the trail of ash that follow his right blade while fighting. Now there was a new effect, Requiem¡¯s skin started to glow with a deep blue light.

    The ability making him light up also increased Requiem''s speed. He lifted the blade and parried one of The Biggest Butthole¡¯s giant rotten fists. Small bits of skin flaked off into the mire around us. That wasn¡¯t enough to stop the unique boss monster though. Another series of attacks were exchanged. With each swing of the giant creature''s fists, Requiem would back up and parry away the blow.

    It was working. I could see the health bar of the large creature dropping steadily. It was at ninety percent now and Requiem hadn¡¯t even busted out any of his combat spells. The young man may be an abusive ass with the relationship skills of a bratty five-year-old, but he was damned good at the game.

    I took notes and wondered if there was something to this two weapon fighting style. The Biggest Butthole lifted a fist and pounded down on the ground. Requiem leapt into the air as landscape rippled. He had an absurd four seconds of hang time which he spent charging up a chantless wave of flame.

    His spells seemed to less effective than TinkerHell¡¯s frost abilities. Maybe Requiem had a lower caster Rank or less skill. He was also generating the spells without using a circle or etched out [Lithium] runes. One day I would figure out this game''s magic system.

    Requiem had ordered me to stay in place. There were at least three chances to place objects for maximum slippage or accidental impalings. Not that any of my prior attempts had been successful.

    The Biggest Butthole shouted and his arm bulged. It grossly bulked to at least fifty percent larger than normal. His fist swung quickly and caught Requiem Mass in his midsection and carried him around. They spun in a circle and I cackled happily seeing Requiem¡¯s face turn green.

    That monstrous arm carried Requiem right into the rotting trunk of a tree. Wood pieces shattered everywhere and Requiem¡¯s health bar plummeted.

    ¡°Ahhhh!¡± All the air left his body in a rush.

    ¡°You¡¯re doinga greatjob!¡± I happily encouraged him in getting hit. Maybe he got neat pop-up messages like I did. That latest slam could say ¡®Shafted by The Biggest Butthole!¡¯.

    ¡°Oh, this is nothing.¡± He muttered. ¡°Nothing at¡­¡± His words were cut off by The Biggest Butthole raising both arms and roaring out. Requiem winced from the loud noise but seemed unfazed.

    The giant, unique boss monster hurled nearby objects and Requiem dodged the first two. The third scraped his face. Requiem grinned and the aura about his body kicked up another notch. The blue light shifted from deep blue to azure.

    Healthwise they were about even. I marveled at the small bits of the landscape being torn up. Pieces of The Biggest Butthole flaking off had made it over here along with chunks from broken trees. I stood there watching the fight with wide, excited eyes.

    Requiem leapt up towards The Biggest Butthole and swung his blade. A trail of ash seared into the creature''s face. It grasped at the Traveler but missed. Another roar sounded out as the boss monster tore at his face to try and clear away the obstructing flakes.

    There. Requiem was ten feet away and actually chanting something. It sounded like the same [Lithium] language that TinkerHell had spoken. A small pop-up box dinged in front of me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Demonical Racial Skill [Tongues] enabled

    Translation in progress¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Huh?¡± I said and poked at the air with one finger.

    ¡°Ghost of a dead sun! Shadow of a singularity!¡± Requiem shouted.

    ¡°Really?¡± I was horrified by the idea that [Lithium] spells were poetry in another language. I said a prayer above and hoped that was a silly translation issue.

    ¡°Draw all into your grasp! Let nothing escape!¡± Requiem continued his chant while doing a series of hand gestures.

    Oh, Voices above, that was too much. I would rather have a box of crayons or use nothing but scrolls for the rest of my game life. I did not want to learn magic if reciting lame word strings would be required.

    His two swords had been planted into the ground on either side during his chanting. Quickly he picked up the darker weapon that had been fairly unremarkable until now. I watched as the blue aura about him brightened and seemed to reach a sky blue peak.

    All the extra blue energy compressed to his arms, then his hands, and finally up to the sword. His weapon was blazing brightly with the transferred energy.

    Requiem charged at The Biggest Butthole, who was still clawing at its own face in outrage. The sword jab went straight into the air in front of the boss monster. As it pulled back the blue energy compressed even further until it was a drop of water on Requiem''s withdrawing sword.

    The Biggest Butthole cleared its vision just in time to stare crossed eyed at the small drop of water. It released from the sword tip and hovered there in wonder for a second before unleashing a pulse. Everything nearby was pushed back half an inch and then sucked inward.

    My light body was no exception. I scrambled for the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] which was digging into the ground. My tail tried to find extra purchase. Over my shoulder, I could see the two fighters both reacting very differently. Requiem was full on leaning backward against the sudden shift in gravity. The Biggest Butthole gave one large roar before his head was yanked into the bright blue water droplet of energy.

    That jerk of a Traveler had a mini black hole spell. Everything drug towards the special move Requiem had unleashed for a few seconds before the pressure released. I dropped to the ground with a stutter. Sharp teeth bit into my lip and made me grunt. My tiny [Red Imp] kneecap felt like it was banged hard and the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] had slapped me in the face.

    ¡°Neat.¡± I uttered a statement completely against the [Red Imp] personality. My synchronization bar dropped two percent because of it.

    ¡°Good. Most of it is still intact. Hopefully, it dropped something useful.¡± Requiem muttered. He looked exhausted beyond belief. I could see the health bar above his head was below half but not critical.

    I tilted my head and stabbed the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into the ground repeatedly. That mini black hole type move had torn The Biggest Butthole¡¯s head completely off and left a small waft of smoke. The body stood for a moment before both of the monsters knees gave out and everything toppled over.

    ¡°Now do you understand? You can¡¯t possibly kill me.¡± Requiem said while looking at me. This Traveler was far beyond both my [Red Imp] familiar self and the Hermes character. His super move was more impressive than William Carvers heroic slash.

    I was playing the part of a sinister familiar out to get his master killed. This called for my best evil smile and proper [Red Imp] commentary. ¡°You are tooslow andstupid.¡±

    ¡°How can you say that?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Now I know your weakness.¡± I had no clue what his weakness was. Requiem looked panicked for a moment and shoved his hand into a coat pocket. He did that motion a lot when the fight looked tough. Was there something in there?

    The Traveler must have one more trump card up his sleeve. The question was, how could I use it against him to complete this silly quest?

    ¡°Get out of here.¡± Requiem waved a hand and the release of my summons started.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Thirty Three â€“ Until Morale Improves

    <cite></cite>There was a huge wall of Travelers around me. They were crowded over a series of bulletin boards like the ones from [Camp Grey Skull]. Some clustered together to chat. More were arguing over the price of seemingly random items. I ignored all of them and read the rest of Xin¡¯s letter.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    My father found America strange. America was never an issue to me, I was born there. Now I understand how he must have felt. This place is also strange. It feels like everything around me is a dream. An illusion cast about for the weak minded. If I stare hard enough the layers peel away.

    It scares me. It scares me until I realize that I¡¯m not actually afraid, but part of me believes I should be. Does that make sense, Gee? I think I should be afraid, therefore I am. Yet fear has never once ruled me. Not once.

    Did I run away from that first launch? You remember, right? I had called you on the phone and we spent hours talking about it. You were so tired. I didn¡¯t sleep at all that night even after you had fallen asleep on the phone. I kept talking while you snored.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I hung my head and sighed. Of course, she would remember the one time I fell asleep on the phone. Xin had woken me from a dead sleep and unloaded. Normally she was very curt with her answers but something about the launch had her rattled. My fianc¨¦e chattered away for hours while I tried to utter complex responses.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Part of me is screaming so loudly. There¡¯s this gap in time between the last moments I remember and now. Three years, Gee, this isn¡¯t like being at Mars. At least there I expected to be able to call you, and for you to go through training and join me.

    That didn¡¯t happen, did it? This isn¡¯t Mars.

    Those last few moments were so fast, but I almost remember what happened. More like I see it, but don¡¯t feel it. Gee, I think I died.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The message went on. I tried not to gasp while reading it. A few of the other Travelers looked over my shoulder to see what the fuss was about. Dusk snapped in their faces and completely confused a couple. Soon they left a small bubble around me and went about their business.

    Voices above. This was insane to read. I tried to remember how Xin had written her text messages. This letter was a lot more formal than anything we had exchanged. That didn¡¯t mean it was fake or written by a program messing with me, did it?

    It was crazy to pin my happiness on a copy of the woman I had loved. Absolutely crazy. What would her father think of this? No, I couldn¡¯t tell anybody at all. This had me on an emotional roller coaster and questioning my sanity. Subjecting anyone else to it would be asking for a trip to the asylum.

    It was time to distract myself again. If I focused on the letter too much then the result would be a complete mental breakdown. A normal person would have asked how a computerized reaction of Xin knew memories from before Continue Online.

    A strong hand grabbed the top of my head and turned it to the side. I was too distracted and didn¡¯t even resist as Shazam came into view.

    ¡°Sorry. It¡¯s me.¡± I tried to make sure she knew it was me right away. Shazam was probably used to dragging my autopilot around.

    She gave a thumbs up then pointed off to the side. Past the walls of bulletins, there was a single room. A line was formed up outside the door and dozens of people were waiting to walk in.

    ¡°What¡¯s in there?¡± I asked. That line was long, but it was moving.

    Shazam pointed at me then to the room. She repeated the motion a few times. There was a symbol up above the doorway that looked like an infinity sign gone Goth if such a thing were possible.

    ¡°So I should go over there?¡± I stared at the picture up above and felt confused.

    She nodded and pushed me off towards the line. I clutched Xin¡¯s letter and tried to clarify what was going on.

    ¡°Is that the Porter?¡± I asked.

    She stopped pushing and gave two thumbs up. If it wasn¡¯t for her complete lack of facial expression I would have called the double thumbs up condescending. Like I had guessed something amazingly obvious and now was on par with a fifth grader.

    I went to the line and reread Xin¡¯s letter multiple times. People gave me a weird look when they saw Dusk on my shoulder. Shazam didn¡¯t join me. She poked through the boards. Their contents were a mystery. I wanted to take a look after dealing with this Porter issue.

    Time passed. I used a nearby wall to scribble out notes on how to respond. It was high school note passing all over again. A half hour later someone risked tapping on my shoulder. The person behind me coughed and pointed at the empty line in front of me.

    ¡°Sorry.¡± I put the letter up and hustled inside.

    This felt oddly like a bathroom stall. There was a line of orbs. They were strangely out of place with everything else in Continue Online. Each orb was on a smooth pedestal and there was an alcove behind it.

    Everyone else was walking up to them and placing their hands on the orb. One person crowded out through the doorway behind me and another came in immediately. Xin had written it, when in Rome, do as the Romans.

    Putting my hands on the orb caused the orb to come to life. Deep inside the core a spark lit up. Light scanned over my body and lingered on the eyes, obliterating my vision. I blinked rapidly and tried to shake it off.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    User: Hermes

    Rank 9 [Blade Dancer], Rank 6 [Dancer], Rank 9 [Actor]¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Inside the alcove was a list that went on and on. It outlined all the same stuff that was in my character profile and had a few other giant glowing buttons. I twisted my face and tried to figure out what was so special about a Porter.

    ¡°First time?¡± The man next to me asked. I glanced over and saw a man who had to be nearly fifty standing there happily. He was seriously wearing what amounted to silk pajamas. The man had one hand halfway down the backside of his pants scratching.

    I ignored the possible innuendo and answered ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Some of us whittle down our interfaces and never look at anything outside of the Porters.¡± He said. The man grumbled and switched which hand was on the orb and which was down his pants scratching.

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked absently. Above my character information was a menu of sorts. One said ¡®social¡¯ and another read ¡®mail¡¯.

    ¡°There¡¯s a theory that you get high gains that way.¡± He seemed dissatisfied with the scratching based on his continued grumbles. While he was chatting, I focused on the menu options to one side. A small keyboard popped up in front of me.

    ¡°Any actual proof?¡± I asked. His idea seemed rather interesting. Beth had said something a while ago about one of her friends using a scroll to read everything. There, there was clearly a box for adding someone to a friend¡¯s list.

    ¡°Not an ounce, but it¡¯s fun to go all natural in the game. It¡¯s a change of pace from the real world, you know?¡± He said.

    ¡°I can see how it might be.¡± I scanned the list of names resulting. There was a whole wall of them with basic information and titles. One of them was a Rank sixteen All-Star mage. That had to be my niece, Beth.

    ¡°Yeah. All that technology out there and we¡¯re drowning in it. Anyway, I¡¯m done, enjoy the game.¡± The man next to me shrugged and walked off while holding his pants with one hand.

    ¡°Bye.¡± I waved with one hand and finished typing out my message. Hopefully, this text would make sense. After a moment of hesitation, I pressed the final button.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Friend Invitation Sent to Player: Thorny

    Message Text: Guess who finally found a Porter? I¡¯ve been completely lost for days. I¡¯m in some town called [Tyr¡¯s Thumb]. I hope I did this right. - Uncle Grant

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Okay. One task was completed. Now I had to figure out how to get my glitch reward. There had been another menu option for ¡®mail¡¯, that would be my next stop.

    The old man next to me was traded out for a girl with a rainbow colored mohawk. She was far less talkative. At her belt was a series of small axes. I guess there really was a play style for everyone.

    I shook my head and focused on the floating menu in its alcove. After a few moments of scattered concentration, I managed to get the mail pop-up to respond. If this room had been more private than perhaps this would have been done sooner..

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Mail Received!

    Would you like to open (2) letters?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Well, yeah,¡± I muttered. Of course, I wanted to open these letters and see what was in them! Receiving two was already more than expected. The first one opened with a bit of fireworks and a sound of coins rattling.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Reward received for Project: Casino

    Received: 394 Gold, 43 Silver, 10 Copper

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I whistled slowly. It had been around two months in-game and someone had already figured out how to set up a Casino? Not to mention they seemed to be rolling in cash. I vaguely remembered that my percentage of any earnings was going to be amazingly minimal. Yet here it was, entirely too much gold.

    The accountant in me had run the numbers a long time ago. It was one of the tasks that kept me entertained while functioning as William Carver. One gold coin roughly equaled ordering an exquisite lobster dinner for two plus gratuity and wine. Doing the math, it was almost like someone had handed me nearly five thousand dollars.

    My eyebrows kept going up as the realization hit me. Two months of game time and if there was a way to convert gold to real money that would be a little bit more than a heavy month of work on the outside world. All that and I had just said some words to a Voice. This wasn¡¯t even from me hunting high-Rank items or farming specific spots.

    ¡°Neat. ¡° Finally I shook it off and went for letter number two. The mohawk girl still stood there poking at the air. On the other side was a mountainous man who had to be half fat and half muscle. He was chewing on some toothpick that looked more like a nail.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Reward Received: Glitch Found and Reported

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Right, as if I had found it myself. This should have gone to Shazam for kicking me into it. Still, I wanted to know what was going to happen. The pop-up box tied to this latest message shimmered for a moment. There had been other text on there about a sizable stat increase. Now it read completely different.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Received:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Howard¡¯s Phylactery]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Ring durability:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Frail (Repairable)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Howard was a famous Wizard who sought to overcome his own weakness. He found a way to bleed away his life small bits at a time and store the energy for a rainy day.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>The Traveler may choose to sacrifice part of his health once per day.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Upon reaching zero health, the ring will replenish the health based on prior stored totals</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>This amount cannot exceed 100% of the Traveler¡¯s health</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Can only be used if actively equipped, does not function from inventory</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Can only restore health once per month </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I jerked my head to one side in confusion. Was this a ring that acted like a second chance at life? What had that shimmering been all about when the message was abruptly replaced? Were the Voices behind this somehow? It wouldn¡¯t be the first time they interfered in my player actions. But why give me a ring like this? Were they worried that I was too frail?

    A long time must have passed. Someone at the door coughed and I jerked out of the reflection abruptly. They weren¡¯t looking at me or commenting on anything. It was a reminder that this place had a huge wait line. There was nothing else in here for me right now anyway.

    It was hard not to stumble out of the door. The gold had been enough to confuse the heck of out me. Getting a ring like that as part of my reward was another layer of crazy. It was also extremely neat.

    ¡°Shazam?¡± I searched the crowd for my silent guardian.

    Dusk yawned in my ear before carefully digging a claw into my shoulder. It wasn¡¯t enough to hurt me, but it was certainly attention-getting.

    ¡°What¡¯s up, Dusk?¡±

    The small dragon flew off. I stumbled through the crowd after my darkly scaled pal. For the first time since the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had started following me, Dusk actually landed on someone else''s shoulder. He was sitting with Shazam and staring at a wall of poster board items.

    Shazam was wearing a dress. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] kept looking at his own feet as he moved around. Dusk was clearly trying to be careful about damaging Shazam¡¯s clothing. Most of her shoulders were uncovered save for two dark blue straps. From this angle, it was clear that most of her back was uncovered from the clothing¡¯s cut.

    I tilted my head while trying to reconcile the woman in a dress with the one wearing armor. There was an amazingly different aura between the two images. She looked amazingly regal and almost seemed to have a glow. My head shook back and forth slowly.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Charm Resisted!

    You have resisted an area effect charm skill. Ability to blink properly restored.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    What? She had some skill that triggered a charm just because I stared too long? The dress alone couldn¡¯t account for that. Shazam had no expression on her face but still managed to have a friendly pose. Her hands were moving around expressively at another man who wore a giant, feathered cap.

    His hands rapidly moved back. It looked like a far better version of the pantomiming that Shazam and I engaged in. Clearly my game needed to be stepped up. Anything that would better communicate with her. Learning baby signs for the words fish or black wasn¡¯t very helpful in a real conversation.

    I stood nearby and stared at the wall of pictures with their descriptions. My hand reached closer to one of the postings and a system message displayed.

    ¡°Oh. Neat.¡± I muttered to myself.

    There was a series of pop-up boxes telling me that it was possible to refine the search. It was strange to see a virtual sort of auction house interface overlaying the old fashion notice boards. Maybe they could only go so far in maintaining realism in a video game. Or maybe all these options could be trimmed down like the older man in the Porter said.

    I looked around a bit. Indeed, some of the players were pulling down the actual notices then pinning them back up. Others were standing nearby poking fingers at the air. It seemed that each shopper could choose a different level of immersion even in a place like this.

    There were walls of items resulting, but I pressed a few buttons and trimmed it down. Finally, there was a wall of digital items displaying in front of me. All of them were gambling related. I figured there would be something in here of use. It was that or stare at player crafted chest pieces for hours.

    ¡°A deck of cards?¡± I set eyes on one category that was a bit more interesting. They actually looked like the perfect type of item to pick up for a traveling player. ¡°These prices are all over the board.¡±

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Dusk chirped from Shazam¡¯s shoulder. I gave her a wave and she returned the greeting with a thumbs up.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking at decks of cards.¡± It felt like I was repeating myself, but Shazam had just arrived. ¡°So we have something to pass the time with. Maybe you can teach my autopilot to be a card shark.¡±

    ¡°You know this man?¡± The man in a feathered hat sounded clear but soft. I turned away from my wall of gambling items to inspect this newcomer. He was a bit shorter than I which meant Shazam towered over him.

    ¡°She¡¯s been helping me on some quests,¡± I stated for us. Shazam gave her thumbs up and then signed a wall of words to the man in the feathered hat.

    ¡°Arnold Sizeler.¡± The man put out a sizable hand. He was small but had giant palms.

    ¡°Hermes.¡± I reached out and shook. A year in face to face customer service had made some reactions automatic.

    ¡°Hermes? Interesting.¡± He said while signing at Shazam. It felt extremely weird having a conversation where they were clearly talking about me, but I couldn¡¯t hear it.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been traveling together for nearly a month now?¡± Arnold raised an eyebrow at Shazam. She gave a thumbs up which caused him to look at me and smile.

    ¡°That sounds right.¡± I waved my hand at the bulletin board. It was unlikely that he could see everything on my interface. ¡±I was just trying to find something to keep us busy.¡±

    ¡°In the gambling items?¡± Arnold Sizeler looked at the board. Shazam turned as well and started poking at the various pieces of paper. She must use the manual interface style.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really good at sewing or painting. A deck of cards is small and easy to use.¡± I said. None of the trade skills sounded fun. Anything that deviated from traveling seemed counterproductive as [Messenger of the Voices]. Digging up ores, chopping trees, or picking plants also sounded boring. Those players who cared enough to engage in gathering were brave.

    ¡°Are you good at card games?¡± Arnold asked.

    ¡°I like to think so. My entire dorm back in college played almost every night.¡± I said while reminiscing. Most of us tried to outsmart each other in various versions of poker. It was an accountant pastime and killed a few hours between mind-numbing homework assignments.

    ¡°Oh really?¡± He signed a lot. I raised an eyebrow then went back to my auction board perusal. ¡°Shazam, Mistress of Games, says there¡¯s no way you could ever beat her in any card game of your choice.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡± I did have a huge minus to all gambling skills so she probably would win. Oh well, it was better than staring at the grass. ¡°Is that sign language?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Arnold Sizeler moved his hands towards the much taller woman. He smiled and laughed happily. ¡°She also says you¡¯ve been traveling with her for weeks and are still a terrible communicator.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been distracted,¡± I said.

    ¡°A quest?¡± Arnold asked. He and Shazam exchanged a few more words with their sign language.

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± I said. My lips pursed to one side. ¡°I seem to always have some weird quest.¡±

    ¡°Anything to do with your similar titles?¡± He asked. Shazam started waving her hands rapidly which made the feathered man chuckle. ¡°Oh? It does?¡±

    She firmly thumbed down.

    ¡°Fine, fine. I¡¯ll ask nothing more about that.¡± He put both arms up in a gesture of backing off. Shazam stared blankly before the exchange of signs went back and forth again.

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you two alone. I have many more deals to get in place before I can call it a night.¡± He bowed to Shazam and turned towards me. I waved goodbye as well. Arnold tapped a finger on his lips then pointed towards me. ¡°Oh, before I go, a question.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± I shrugged. Dusk leapt over to my shoulder and dug in with his claws. The poor little guy must have been stressed sitting on Shazam¡¯s shoulder without hurting her.

    ¡°How long do you plan to travel with Shazam?¡±

    ¡°Until she gets tired of me, I guess.¡± I didn¡¯t know a lot of people in-game. The idea of hanging out with the hand wringing Miss Yonks or Jacob and his asinine commentary was not attractive. My niece hadn¡¯t responded to the message yet, not that I knew what would happen once she did.

    ¡°No plans of your own?¡± He asked.

    ¡°There¡¯s some war thing coming up that I¡¯m looking into,¡± I said. Thinking about my friend invite at the Porter brought to mind her guild event thing.

    ¡°Oh? You must mean the succession war for Telliari¡¯s throne.¡± Arnold said. [Telliari] was a large kingdom covering the land south of [Haven Valley]. It might be neat to wind my way back around to see how things were in William Carver¡¯s old town.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t got all the details yet,¡± I said. This other quest with Requiem had distracted me. That wasn¡¯t even mentioning Xin¡¯s existence.

    ¡°Well, both sides are hiring a number of mercenaries. It¡¯s what I¡¯m actually here trading for. Wars aren¡¯t cheap to fund.¡± Arnold smiled happily.

    ¡°War rarely is.¡±

    ¡°At least it¡¯s all digital. Most of the fighters will be travelers as well, so hopefully the general population of Arcadia will remain unharmed.¡± He tipped his hat back a bit and looked up at us.

    I thought about Mylia and her orphanage. Maud and her gaggle of children passed through my mind. This town was full of war fortifications. While I personally hadn¡¯t run into it, the conflict had likely torn entire kingdoms apart in this game world. Finally, the only choice left was to shrug.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a week away, if you hurry then you should be able to pick a side and gather some benefit. I¡¯ve thrown in with the Prince myself.¡± Arnold raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a side yet.¡± I shook my head. Arnold and my niece both said this was going to be a huge event. The idea of war against an army players was a bit off putting. Requiem Mass was only excusable because it was a quest to help Xin.

    ¡°How about you, my lady?¡± Arnold asked. The hands waved back and forth. ¡°Still refusing to fight other players?¡± He asked out loud for my benefit. ¡°That¡¯s understandable, player wars are one of the reasons I stay here and manage money. It¡¯s quieter.¡±

    They signed back and forth a bit more while I made a few small purchases. A new shirt, pants, some low-Rank items that would help me stay clean out there in the world. Shazam carried a lot of gear, but I couldn¡¯t rely on her forever. It was hard to balance my backpack''s weight load against the [Light Body] skill but these shouldn¡¯t push it too high.

    ¡°Hermes, I wish you luck. Shazam, lovely as always.¡± Arnold wrapped up his conversation and gave us a bow. Shazam returned his farewell by waving.

    He walked off and I stared at Shazam. ¡°Terrible communicator, huh?¡±

    She gave a thumbs up I hung my head briefly and tried not to laugh. The dress hung about her shoulders while clinging to her curves as she moved. I looked away before the game made me resist another charm effect.

    ¡°Well, thanks for putting up with me. I¡¯m sure it can¡¯t have been easy.¡± I said. My own hands went back to the auction house display and poked at a few more items. ¡°Any suggestions on a good deck of cards?¡±

    Shazam turned to stare at the wall. Her arms hung to either side while she scanned over various bulletins. Finally, the woman reached out and grabbed a few notices down from the wall. A nearby Traveler protested as her hand dragged something over what he was looking at. She just glared at him and the other player blinked a few times before shrugging.

    I tried not to chuckle and focused on the items she had brought up for my attention. They were all different decks of cards. The cheapest one was a deck of cards similar to the one I had seen before. Way back in the room of trials.

    ¡°So you don¡¯t use the interface for auctions?¡± I asked. How she managed to pluck out deck fliers from the wall was beyond me. There were ten or twenty thousand items hanging around. Not to mention the people behind me yelling about their wares.

    Shazam gave me a thumbs down then poked at two of the sheets.

    ¡°Between these two huh?¡± I said. Both were expensive. Not that money was an issue at this point. We spent most of the last few weeks hunting for food or working off of whatever supply Shazam had gathered. My Hermes character was mostly in her care while I dealt with Requiem Mass.

    I was half tempted to flip a coin, but honestly there was enough gold to buy both and still have some left over. The items plopped into player inventory and gold vanished accordingly. Hopefully no one else nearby heard those cash register noises.

    Shazam wandered the boards while I inspected the items. I trusted her enough to buy the items without too much investigation. The first one seemed to be a deck of cards following Continue Online¡¯s unique take.

    Instead of diamonds there were footprints on each card. Instead of a spade there was a scale of some beast, probably a dragon. The third suit was a small fire hovering over a brick. I wasn¡¯t sure how the final two suits of a tooth and sword hilt fell into things. While I was turning them over looking at the numbers and other pictures Shazam tapped on my shoulder.

    ¡°What?¡± She ignored my questioning tone and reached over to grab all the cards. She threw them all into the air.

    ¡°Ahh!¡± I managed to catch a good number of them as they fell. It was actually surprising how many were in my hands by the end of the scramble.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Coordination] + 2

    [Reaction] + 2

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Why?¡± I looked at the system message and got confused. Scrambling to catch flying cards had resulted in a bonus? My head shook back and forth.

    Shazam gave me a thumbs up and then tapped the card¡¯s case three times. All the cards vanished from their landing spots and reappeared inside the case. She handed it back slowly.

    ¡°That is so weird,¡± I said.

    ¡°Variance bonus.¡± Someone near me said with a grump. I turned and saw the same old man from before standing nearby in pajamas. ¡°First time doing anything new gives a bonus.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I shook my head in confusion. Had my confusion been so evident than some nearly random person had to comment on it? Judging by Shazam¡¯s double thumbs up the answer was yes.

    ¡°Mh.¡± Pajama man was still holding up his pants with one hand. He stood staring at bulletins much like Shazam did. There was no sign of his using a digital interface.

    I took the pack of cards back from where Shazam had it pinched in her palm. People bumped around us to get closer to the auction board. A much shorter man was walking a path while shouting out nearby.

    ¡°Anyone interested in buying unique mats? I gots a seller who has access to rare items from a private region.¡± The extremely short fellow shouted. I looked down briefly to see a man who was clearly grumpy. ¡°If anyone¡¯s interested just let me know. I¡¯ll be logged on for hours.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow at Shazam.

    ¡°What region is it?¡± A Traveler near me asked the short follow hawking his specialty wares.

    ¡°Can¡¯t say! But I gots access to unique goods, recently my supplier got drops from a special mob nicked The Biggest Butthole. I gots the stats written down for anyone interested.¡± Said the short man. It took me a moment to realize how angry his commentary made me.

    Somehow Requiem Mass was sending items to another player and making gold from them. A whole series of things clicked together at that moment. The entire reason I was on this quest was because the Voices were upset at Requiem Mass. This guy was selling them under the guise of unique goods.

    ¡°Shazam,¡± I muttered. The other Traveler turned and waved her hands in a questioning motion. ¡°I need to talk to that short guy over there.¡±

    Her head turned to look at my target. Her hands waved at me with that vaguely questioning tone. I took that to mean Shazam wanted a reason for helping me.

    ¡°He can help my quest,¡± I said. Shazam didn¡¯t even hesitate. She grabbed the small man and literally hauled him off to the side of the bulletin boards. Our tiny captive protested, complained, and tried to claw at her hands. All of it failed and we reached a vaguely secluded area.

    Shazam lifted him in the air and held him against the wall with both hands. Her head nodded towards me then our captive. I stepped up and stared into the short man''s eyes. They were a deep brown.

    ¡°That weapon you were talking about, what was it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a fist weapon. But don¡¯t thinks dragging me off is gonna lower the price.¡± He licked his lips and looked anywhere but at us.

    ¡°Oh? How much?¡± I nodded and pretended to be interested in the price.

    ¡°Your bid gotta be at least four hundred gold.¡± He looked me up and down and sneered. My clothes were pretty low end on the price scale.

    ¡°And this came from what monster?¡± I asked. Days on the road and being able to groom my autopilot likely didn¡¯t help the impression. At least I wasn¡¯t standing around holding up silk pajamas with one hand.

    ¡°A unique mob called The Biggest Butthole.¡± The short man replied while trying to swallow.

    ¡°And Requiem Mass gave this to you?¡± I dropped the name of my least favorite player. Requiem Mass was even worse than SheHulk at this point.

    The small man went absolutely white. ¡°I don¡¯t know where he is! Please don¡¯t hit me!¡±

    The flailing continued for quite some time. Our little corner of the auction house was starting to get gawkers. Shazam was expressionless as always, but their attention bothered me.

    ¡°He tried to cut me out of some business.¡± I waved happily to a Traveler nearby. The man stared at me and the shorter person. It must be confusing as hell to see an Amazon of a woman wearing a blue dress holding a little person against a wall.

    ¡°What else?¡± I asked. There was way more to this than just a simple sales transaction. Requiem Mass was the type to milk every ounce he could from a situation.

    ¡°I find people willing to buy and charge what I can, I only gets twenty percent! It¡¯s not worth this! I dunno you. Let me go!¡± The protesting went on and each time my mouth opened to ask the shorter fellow a question another excuse came forth.

    Maybe [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] could turn into a boxing glove and the man could be popped in the face. A bell to ring over his head? A gong? None of those shapes had been tried yet. I ran through a series of possible choices and follow up questions while Shazam idly held the man up.

    ¡°Hermes? Can you put my friend down? He and I have some business to finish.¡± Someone nearby said. I turned to look at the newest visitor to our little interrogation.

    ¡°Arnold?¡± I questioned. We had just parted ways recently and now the traveler and his feathered cap were back. ¡°Why do you need him?¡±

    ¡°This fellow is suspected of trading in-game goods for real money. It¡¯s part of my job to find these people.¡± Arnold shrugged and signed towards Shazam. She gave a much slower response since one of her arms was being used to hold up the little man.

    ¡°Wait you¡¯re, you can have a job in game?¡± I was completely thrown off now.

    ¡°I get a substantial reward for handling these sorts of situations.¡± Arnold had two rather beefy looking nonplayer characters on either side. They seemed to be cut from the same mold. Both were huge walls of muscle that probably had extremely low [Intelligence] scores.

    He stepped in closer and the two giant goons sidestepped in with him. Our little alcove had very little room to move. Shazam set her expressionless glare on the two goons and they took a step back in unison. It made Arnold chuckle.

    ¡°I¡¯m not even supposta be in dis town! My scroll haywired all over and the game dropped me here.¡± The man in Shazam¡¯s grip was still giving out a whole series of excuses. I filed the latest one away with a sigh.

    It was too coincidental that someone selling drops from Requiem Mass¡¯ plundering would happen to show up in the same town as I. There was clearly a lot of meddling from above in today¡¯s events.

    ¡°I¡¯m done with him.¡± I waved a hand dismissively.

    ¡°Shazam, my dear? Do you mind if I take care of our diminutive friend?¡± Arnold asked while stepping in closer. She shrugged and dropped the man.

    Arnold and his goons swept in and took over. I exited our corner of the auction house and leaned against a wall. This was too many things to take in at once. Which one had been the biggest shock?

    Xin¡¯s letter was intense. The gold from my Casino payouts was neat. A stat bonus from catching falling cards barely ranked. Topping the list was Requiem somehow coordinating with other players to sell Continue Online goods for real money.

    My mind went through the math again. Even if digital goods were far cheaper than real world equivalent this was still a lot of money. That one weapon from The Biggest Butthole had a bid of four hundred gold. Requiem was being far too clever, and somehow the Voices expected me to bring him down.

    Warmth radiated out from inside my tunic. There was a message coming in from the Voices. I undid the cap and slid out the small parchment. The note was simple and frightening.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes,

    When you¡¯re ready. You need only remember my question and give me an answer. Would you kill a man? Not only in here, but out there?

    - </img>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    What? Why was a letter signed with a smiley face? That wasn¡¯t even a name! I tried to think about all the Voices that I had run into during my time playing this game. There were a lot, but only one fit the bill.

    I swallowed again and felt a clammy chill crawl over my skin. Today had been very busy.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Thirty Four - Eye on the Prize

    I pulled a ten-hour shift for work. With travel time and sleep on either end, it put me out of Continue for nearly seven days. Every spare moment between jobs was used to plan exactly how to get Requiem.

    Nothing sounded perfect. Fighting him personally would be nearly impossible with all the limitations in place. The only good choice would be setting him up against this other Traveler out there, Frankenstein.

    Real life had a few routine issues to resolve. Food was counted out and my upcoming calendar reviewed. Things were good enough to survive a few days without me. Requiem Mass and I were going to have a long, drawn out session that involved all sorts of prodding. Best case scenario, he would break and get killed. Worst case he would unleash another round of beatings which would allow me to take another nap before wading into [Red Imp] land..

    Pretending to be a little asshole was emotionally releasing like beating people with a giant two-handed sword. Something about it let me vent my inner angry man. Plus there were always things to stab.

    Logging in presented me with the standard fair. Requiem had my character cornered and was ranting. I wasn¡¯t entirely sure what my autopilot had done this time.

    ¡°What now? What?¡± I yelled quickly. There was a system box explaining roughly what had happened during my absence.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Event!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Requiems Requires Revenge!</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    During your absence, Requiem was attacked twice! Your autopilot rather happily let the enemy through and they had almost finished the Traveler off.

    Your training and knowledge assisted this [Red Imp] body in nearly finishing off Requiem Mass!

    <ul>

    <li>+10% synchronization </li>

    </ul>

    Background story opportunity received!

    Be aware all speech while actively playing as the [Red Imp] will result in potential setting alterations.

    Current Additional Orders

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>¡°Oh you can run, but you¡¯re ordered to stay within ten meters. Don¡¯t say I¡¯m not sporting.¡±</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>¡°No, shut up, forever.¡±</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>¡°Stop ruining the loot.¡± </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    What sort of nonsense was this? Requiem was mad because I had almost killed him without even trying. To top it off the game rewarded me for this absentee near success by allowing me to create a back story. They very nerve of my autopilot, showing me up like that.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna beat you senseless.¡± He was shaking his head. I was fluttering both wings madly up a tree. That didn¡¯t¡¯ stop Requiem from throwing rocks at me. He wasn¡¯t about to waste any real weapons on his [Red Imp].

    There was nothing else to do. I bent over and showed Requiem Mass my little [Red Imp] rear end. Shaking my ass at him made me break out laughing which resulted in a shock of pain.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Laughing counts as talking.

    Total Damage: 35

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± He shouted while throwing another rock. I swayed left and dodged. One hand lifted to pantomime my mouth being zipped shut and locked. Shortly after I went back to shaking my rear at him. Silent communication was fairly straight forward after weeks with Shazam.

    I was too engaged with mooning Requiem and took a rock straight to the left cheek. The attack caused me to dip in the air. Requiem lunged for my leg. I beat my wings rapidly and managed to get away fast enough. Part of me was fairly sure that my nemesis could have easily captured me, but he seemed to be both angry and conserving his skills.

    ¡°Bah! Fine, talk!¡± Requiem turned while waving his hand dismissively.

    ¡°Testing!¡± I quickly stated. ¡°TestingTesting Testing!¡±

    Requiem rolled his eyes. ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°Testingfor stupid.¡± I happily said. That earned another quick rock that was barely dodged. Requiem hurled more in my direction for a solid minute while I gave my best imp cackle.

    ¡°The fact that you¡¯re even testing just shows how idiotic you are.¡± He gave up once again and walked back to a small camp. There was a fire-pit that looked absolutely useless for disguising where the smoke came from.

    ¡°Maybe yourstupid is genetic!¡± I said. Part of me felt really dirty for how I acted as a [Red Imp]. Requiem was a jerk, but poking at other people to see which way they squirmed wasn¡¯t in my normal tendencies. The Voices above were far better at it than I.

    ¡°What did you say?¡± Requiem had responded exactly as hoped. He stomped closer to me and I backed up into the air.

    ¡°Mother, orfather?¡± I fluttered away to get distance. ¡°Which oneisthe stupid?¡±

    Still, I wanted more information about Requiem as a person. In addition, there was this backstory opportunity. It was like the game sensed that there was a plan in place and started to throw new details at me. The Voices were probably screwing with me too.

    ¡°Was yourfather adevil?¡± I smiled. ¡°Mothera succubus?¡± It had taken me a while to figure out how to translate abusive asshole and whore into devilish.

    ¡°My parents are none of your business,¡± Requiem said. He was strangely still.

    ¡°Aretheydead?¡± I prodded a bit more and tried not to feel dirty.

    Requiem paused and then smiled. ¡°Yes. I killed them.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s the devil now?¡± I smirked back but kept well out of his range. The Traveler was giving off his need to punch people aura. It was one very familiar to me after days of dealing with the teen.

    ¡°I suggest you shut up or we¡¯ll go back to trying to beat sense into you.¡± His voice cracked a bit.

    ¡°Useless! Next question, areyoureyes really that dumbgreen color?¡± I asked. There was a tree branch nearby that was just barely within the ten-meter limit allowed by my orders. Small jabs of pain for disobeying orders made me relocate twice as Requiem moved around the camp.

    ¡°Why are you asking?¡± Requiem was busy stirring something that smelled terrible over an open flame. His face twisted and growled with each pass of the giant ladle.

    ¡°I havea bigbrotherwho wants visit youinyour world.¡± I tried to insert potential backstory into the conversation. He seemed like the kind of player who was anti-social in real life too. Not that my history had been any better. Work and my family were the only real people I spoke to.

    ¡°You can¡¯t do that, this is a game.¡± He said while tapping the ladle against his pot.

    ¡°We¡¯ll findaway. Brother¡¯s a lotsmarter thanyou.¡± I said. ¡°Bigger. Meaner. Andhates cats.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Probably a lot smarter than you too. Now, we¡¯ve got to hunt a few more of these things and I¡¯ll have enough mats.¡± Requiem stood up and shook his hands off. The pot was left behind to bubble with whatever concoction Requiem had placed inside.

    For the next day in-game I poked and prodded at everything Requiem did. My taunting kept going, but none of it seemed to distract Requiem. He was getting far too used to my constant harassment. The Traveler was clearly suspicious of my actions after the first few questions.

    There was no way I was gullible enough to believe all of his answers. He tried to talk to me about his cats and that was clearly a lie. He couldn¡¯t possible love cats with that attitude. It was more likely that Requiem tied any animals belonging to his family to rockets or other flammables.

    ¡°Are your eyesthat funnyin reallife?¡± I was back on the eyes after a quick autopilot break.

    ¡°You¡¯re not one to talk. Whoever designed you gave you bug eyes.¡± Requiem was almost bantering with me. That was a weird change in dynamic that had developed after a few name calling sessions in the last day.

    ¡°Stupidheaddummy,¡± I muttered while putting more thought into how to get Requiem.

    Continue Online had rules for character creation. I was now fairly certain that Requiem came from a broken home of some sort. I was sure that he hadn¡¯t altered his character at all from reality.

    Every bit of information was something to use against him. Each item would be put into a list for yelling out at the worst moments and hope that it distracted him in a fight. Requiem loved these battles and attacked mobs like it was a lifelong dream.

    ¡°You evergonna do thismission of yours?¡± After a few more hours off dealing with Requiem and his stupid undead monkey hunt, I moved on to the heart of the issue.

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you before, I¡¯m biding my time. Freakinstain will get his once you¡¯re ready.¡± Requiem said. He was once again elbows deep in monkey guts and seemed completely undisturbed by it. Even I, in all my [Red Imp] glory, couldn¡¯t wade into rotting bodies.

    ¡°OnceIam ready?¡± I couldn¡¯t stop the machine from letting a squeak out.

    ¡°Did you not listen? I can¡¯t kill him and take his quest item until you¡¯re capable of detecting Freakinstain in that stupid darkness cloud.¡± Requiem yanked another tail out from the monkey¡¯s back. It came apart with a gross squelch of noise that made my tail shiver in disgust.

    ¡°Ooooh. Whydidn¡¯t yousay so?¡± I pretended to act surprised.

    ¡°I did. Many times.¡± The Traveler stopped for a moment and he seemed to be staring into the distance. That was a look that said ¡®how did life get to this point?¡¯.

    ¡°Good. Whatsinit for me?¡± I asked.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Character Traits:

    [Rude] (3), [Self-Serving] (2), [Clever] (4), [Greedy] (1), [Defiant] (6)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I happily checked my [Red Imp]¡¯s personality traits again. Defiant was something easy to exercise. Being greedy and self-serving was easy to insert here. Rude was natural to me. This whole clever thing was probably my many attempts at bypassing Requiem¡¯s orders and finding new ways to off him.

    So far I hadn¡¯t let those traits bleed over too much into Hermes or real life. It was strange how a year of pretending everything was okay for customer service had built acting skills. Maybe everyone was an actor to some extent.

    ¡°You already got cupcakes.¡± Requiem gave a dry response. Once again I thought about Dusk. He would be free of this stupid binding and just fireball Requiem in the face. That would be awesome.

    ¡°What else isthere?¡± I tapped my foot while trying to remember the salsa beat. It was quick and fast and saucy. My face turned up in disgust at this place. There was nowhere to dance. That was the worst thing about these woods.

    ¡°You need more?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Paidtimeoff.¡± I spouted the first thing in my head once again. It was awkward sometimes but kind of fun. ¡°Unionbreaks. Repersentation. Goldandjewels andother shiny things. Plus thingsto stab. Like you.¡±

    I watched Requiem shake his head around trying to decipher the list of items to come out of my mouth. He wasn¡¯t the only one confused by the demands. Most of them were utter nonsense to me.

    ¡°You¡¯re saying you want more, to help me with this quest,¡± Requiem stated. Once again he stomped back to the pot and threw in our latest leftovers.

    ¡°Ofcourse. We allhave wants. You only know the stick. No carrot. Stupiddumb head.¡± I said while trying to give a feral grin.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not giving you any gold.¡± Requiem looked around at the camp. His eyes seemed to be exhausted. Sitting out here for so long and being in-game most of the time had to be draining. My constant badgering and now asking for more was like piling straws on and hoping his back would break.

    ¡°I don¡¯tknow why not. Your havecontacts selling for you.¡± I pretended to be muttering the words under my breath.

    ¡°How do you know about that?¡± He took the bait.

    ¡°My brother.¡± I smiled happily. Maybe the Voices would generate this poor nameless [Red Imp] a big brother. Requiem needed more drama in his life.

    ¡°Yeah? Maybe I can meet this brother of yours, he¡¯s probably useful.¡±

    ¡°More likelytoeat you.¡± I shrugged. Making up details about a fictional person was kind of fun. ¡°Justtheright spices and even you mightbesweet tasting.¡±

    ¡°I think that answers the question on which one of us is a demon,¡± Requiem said. I almost clamped a hand right over my mouth but managed to giggle instead. Clearly the game was really warping any sense of humor the years had given me.

    ¡°Anyway, I expecttoget something. Anything useful. Oh, andaname. I¡¯m tired of heyyou, holdthat one.¡± I gave my nails a glance and frowned in displeasure. They were sharp, poky things like the tail.

    ¡°A name?¡± He sounded honestly confused by that one. Like it hadn¡¯t occurred to him that anyone might not have a name. I was even more certain that Requiem did not own a cat.

    ¡°Something useful, like I¡¯mwithstupid. Or Myownerisslow. Deathtocats.¡± I had put a lot of thought into a possible name for the [Red Imp]. It was weird thinking of myself as not having one. Deathtocats was a long shot, though, plus I personally liked cats.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have one already?¡± Requiem asked.

    ¡°Not one youcanuse. If I hadone, I¡¯duse it.¡± I shrugged.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Background Generated:

    [Nameless]; Your [Red Imp] self is currently nameless and wants to find a good one. Sadly he doesn¡¯t know very many people and is subject to the whims of his contractor.

    [Little Brother]; Your [Red Imp] has a big brother. The following traits have been applied to this new brother. [Greater Demon], [Protective], [Sadistic], [Really Big Brother], and [Unbound Entity].

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    That was easy enough. Mess with another human being long enough and the computer would generate pop-up boxes. There was probably a life lesson in there about my entire experience with Continue Online.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see. For now, since you said you¡¯re ready, let''s finish last night¡¯s dungeon.¡±

    ¡°Eh? There?¡± I had no idea where he was talking about. There hadn¡¯t been a dungeon to my knowledge. The last one had been rather interesting if limited.

    ¡°Yes. You¡¯re trained enough and my recipe is almost done. Soon I¡¯ll be able to enchant everything.¡±

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.¡°Eh,¡± I said with far less interest.

    ¡°If you do a good job I¡¯ll enchant you something too. With the leftovers, of course.¡± Requiem checked his pot of goo again and nodded. He was probably checking exactly how much was in there. ¡°Yes. This should come out excellently.¡±

    ¡°If stupidhead says so.¡± I stared at the synchronization bar and wondered how easy reaching seventy-five percent would be. There was only another chunk to go. Doing this dungeon might go either way.

    If nothing else, going might have loot. I hadn¡¯t really done anything with the game items as Hermes or the [Red Imp]. Beating people using [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and it¡¯s echo was the only trick I seemed to know.

    ¡°When dowego?¡±

    ¡°Now you¡¯re eager to do something?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll evenwavekilling you in this dungeon. For items. This precious lootyoukeepselling.¡± My personal efforts at eliminating Requiem¡¯s character had failed. Maybe the secret was to let the autopilot succeed. Getting to seventy-five percent using the [Self-Serving], [Clever], [Greedy] characteristics should hopefully assist in unlocking the next rank of skills.

    ¡°One item,¡± Requiem said.

    ¡°Five!¡± I countered. This argument was only going to end one way. My real goal was to mess with the Traveler anyway.

    ¡°One item.¡± He held firm as expected.

    ¡°Three!¡± I tried.

    ¡°One item.¡±

    ¡°Of my choice.¡± Each attempt sent a positive marker through my synchronization bar. Not enough to go up a full percent, but it was the right thing to do while staying in character.

    ¡°Fine.¡± He looked like my request was pulling teeth out.

    I wasn¡¯t the only one greedy around here. At least I was pretending. Requiem Mass was sending his items somehow to a merchant player and turning them into real money and I was being greedy asking for an item.

    ¡°Prat. Jerk. Selfcentered littlebrat.¡± The words came out in a rush of grumbling. ¡°Dunghead. Idiot. Mcbuttface.¡± They sounded clunky to my ears so it was likely they were in [Demonic] or whatever language [Red Imp]s spoke.

    ¡°Come on. We¡¯re not going to waste time.¡± Requiem shook his head and dusted off his hands. He picked up items from all over the camp with an effectiveness that rivaled Shazam¡¯s.

    I fluttered after the Traveler but stayed out of reach. Requiem wasn¡¯t likely to have forgiven me of all the earlier barbs and cruel jabs. There was no way I would have forgiven me in his shoes. My attempts at prodding were far ruder than any questioning James had subjected me to.

    Ironically I felt that poking at his soft spots had been easy. Having my own scars made it simple to find his. A year of hearing other people''s stories and self-improvement attempts along with tons of therapy.

    I swallowed and faltered in my flight. What exactly was I trying to do to another player? This was a real human on the other side of this machine. Almost two days of personal attacks had to stop. In-game commentary, issues with how he fought, making fun of his clothing were all fair game.

    Trying to take this quest between us to the outside world was not neat at all. This was just a game to Requiem. That which was in Continue Online would stay in Continue. My recent actions had crossed the line rather firmly and it was time to reign myself back in.

    Requiem stopped in front of an absolutely huge tree. I lost track of him while staring up in awe. This was the biggest and most dead looking piece of future timber ever. An image came to mind of the tree burning happily.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Punched like you owe someone money

    Total Damage: 40%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Continue Online was happy to provide me both stars swirling at eye level and a pop-up box. Neither was a solid enough hint on what had happened. A giant finger kept sliding and out of focus.

    That finger belonged to Requiem who was pissed looking. ¡°I put up with a lot of shit from you, but you talk about my mom again, and I¡¯ll make everything we¡¯ve been through so far look like child¡¯s play.¡±

    A whole swath of emotions crossed my face. Part of me felt terrible for even letting this happen in the first place. Personal attacks were downright rude no matter where they happened. Requiem Mass may be an asshole and practically five, but my insults made him seem adult like.

    ¡°We clear?¡± Requiem¡¯s foot was bigger than my head. My wings were wiggling and trying to escape, but being on the ground made it hard.

    I hastily nodded. Being punched and tortured was counterproductive to quest completion, for both of us. Being punched also made my head ring fiercely. There wasn¡¯t even a dazed message.

    ¡°Good. Now that we¡¯re settled. You help me clear this dungeon, and no goofing around, and you can have one item of your choice at the end. Deal?¡±

    ¡°Okay, twerp.¡± I used Vlad¡¯s name for Requiem. Two boxes came into being. One informed me of the newest contract between familiar and summoner. The other was another percentage increase that came with a note.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Divine Attention] +4

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Requiem glared and I tried not to roll my eyes.

    ¡°I have a name for you.¡± He said.

    ¡°Layit onme.¡± This would be neat. I bet the player had spent entire minutes trying to think of something clever and snarky to label me with.

    ¡°Twerp.¡± Requiem smiled over at me. Scratch that, he must have been hit with sudden inspiration.

    ¡°Rejectedvoted andno, that¡¯s your name.¡± I smiled back. ¡°Twerp.¡±

    ¡°Shut it, or I¡¯ll hit you again.¡± He turned to the tree and started poking at air. Requiem was fiddling around in his player menus with something. A moment later his two swords were equipped and ready to go.

    ¡°Then who would help youclear this place.¡± Too bad I had no real equipment. Just a loincloth and weapon to my nameless imp self.

    ¡°If you¡¯re too useless, I¡¯ll do it myself. Besides.¡± Requiem waved an arm and threw a small ball of flame at me. The earlier damage from being clocked in the face vanished as fire warmed every inch.

    Right. He could throw fire around and it would heal me. How perfect was it that his preferred method of damage just happened to close up any wounds accumulated? It was almost like the Voices handcrafted my passives for this situation.

    My eyes rolled. They probably had. That meant they threw in the whole demonic tongues language thing to ensure I could understand his stupid poetry reciting. I tried not to twitch in annoyance.

    ¡°Did you hear me?¡± Requiem said.

    ¡°Sure. You¡¯retoo useless, I¡¯ll doit myself.¡± I waved the tiny arm holding my [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] towards the Traveler. He scowled and pointed to the giant tree.

    ¡°We¡¯re going down there. You¡¯re following orders, and we¡¯re going to clear it all the way down to the roots.¡±

    ¡°And take all the items.¡± I played up the [Greedy] aspect.

    ¡°All of them.¡± A clear look of greed passed over his face. If Travelers had thought bubbles, his would be a banker counting coins.

    ¡°And I get five.¡±

    ¡°One.¡± Requiem looked sour. Work life had taught me that far too many people needed constant reminding. I also really enjoyed watching him squirm.

    Requiem went first. That was fine by me since being a [Red Imp] came with next to no health points. Even Hermes was easily triple this body¡¯s [Endurance] and quadruple its [Brawn]. It had taken me days of adjusting to wrap myself around wings, changed stats, and impulse control problems. The latter was still causing me issues.

    Flying was a lot of fun. Whenever Requiem wasn¡¯t micromanaging me I sped around quickly doing didoes and aerial maneuvers. The only time that he ever left me alone is when I was ordered to gather herbs. My [Blink] practice was sorely lacking.

    ¡°Come on. You¡¯re falling behind.¡± There was a giant hole that went into the ground. It had wound down for three loops or more. I didn¡¯t have a map. Part of me felt kind of sickened being trapped in this tunnel.

    ¡°No Iamnot.¡± I protested.

    ¡°Really? Remember where we got jumped last time?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Youalmost wet yourself.¡± I had no clue where we got jumped last time. Requiem so far had shown no awareness of a difference between me and the autopilot, though.

    Maybe Requiem was an even better actor than I was. That was a scary thought. Dwelling on anything along those lines would be bad for my stability.

    ¡°Anyway.¡± Requiem didn¡¯t refute my claims so maybe there was something to it. ¡°We¡¯re taking the right fork. That should get us up to the first boss.¡±

    I tried not to roll my eyes.

    We made our fourth spin down and found the fork Requiem had mentioned. I was hoping he wouldn¡¯t ask me anything else too crazy about our autopilot time. Pulling an all day shift and sleeping didn¡¯t help keep me in the loop with everything happening.

    The first monster we faced shot out of the wall and took up the entire width of our tunnel. Only the [Red Imp]¡¯s natural survival instincts kept me from getting smacked in the face. Once I righted myself there was a very clear and rotting root in our way. Floating up revealed a small hole that I might be able to [Blink] through.

    ¡°It¡¯s the traps. They keep screwing us.¡± Requiem started hacking away with his sword. ¡°Though these are new.¡±

    ¡°Stupid,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Really? I don¡¯t see you detecting them any better.¡±

    ¡°Notthat.¡± I said.

    ¡°Then what?¡± Requiem turned and glared at me. ¡°If you¡¯re so smart.¡±

    ¡°Whywould theyput a wall?¡± I tried to ask a leading question. There was no way I could just hand him an easy conclusion when the [Red Imp] would give me points for implying he was stupid.

    ¡°To slow us down.¡±

    ¡°Untilsomething shows up.¡± I may have stuck my head in the sand for years, but that didn¡¯t mean games were new to me. Plus weeks with Shazam had rather firmly taught me a lot of basics.

    Requiem looked at me and then down the tunnel. I personally opted for staring at the walls. It was more likely something would crawl out of them, giant worms or termites. Hopefully, Requiem would throw a lot of fireballs at any bugs to show up.

    Nope. Moles. Undead, ugly, squirmy moles. Voices above what sort of macabre horror show was I trapped in?

    ¡°Imp! Drive it back!¡±

    ¡°Ahh!¡± I drove the top of my weapon towards the enemy. The [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] landed square on its nose. There was no point in trying to identify it. I only had one trick and that was stabbing things when possible.

    ¡°Eeeee!¡± The medium sized undead mole grabbed its nose and cried out. Two more crawled out of the wall around us. Bits of root and dirt stuck to their faces. ¡°Eeeee!¡±

    ¡°Too many!¡± I did my best to play poke-a-mole with the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. One went down, two more showed up, and finally there were six of them appearing from the walls each throwing clumps of dirt.

    ¡°Eee!¡± They kept making the same noise every time. ¡°Eee! Eeeee!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re through,¡± Requiem said.

    ¡°What aboutthese?!¡± I squeaked while stabbing another two moles in the nose.

    ¡°We need more space before we can fight them.¡± Requiem was somehow staying calm under pressure. ¡°This way. There should be room up here.¡± He turned and threw a giant ball of fire down the hallway. It passed over me while scaring all the undead moles back into their holes.

    Requiem moved quickly down the hallway. He had one sword out trailing ash behind us. The mole creatures coughed and sputtered while slushing grossly. I tried to flap my wings, but these narrow tunnels turned my few attempts into bad hopping with mild panic.

    ¡°Another one. Help quickly.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± I shifted my weapon and slashed with an edge. It helped shave the second wall down before any more mole creatures caught up with us. Requiem didn¡¯t even spare a glance for the shape-shifting item. I was lucky it was [Bound] or he might try to sell it too.

    ¡°Go. The clearing is up ahead.¡± Requiem turned and threw another ball of flame down the hallway. He rushed by my hopping form and dove into the cavernous opening.

    ¡°Will they come here?¡± I asked. There were no walls for the mole things to attack from or hide in. Instead, they would be limited to the ground or way up high on the ceiling.

    ¡°No. The monster in here should scare them off.¡± He said.

    ¡°That¡¯s good. Waitwhat?¡± I turned and looked up towards where Requiem was staring. The ceiling was extremely dark, but I had the racial [Darkvision] backing me up. Requiem must have something similar.

    I didn¡¯t have time to think about it. The [Darkvision] only reached so far. Requiem was scanning the top and squinting.

    ¡°There it is.¡± Requiem pointed up. ¡°It chased us off last time. This time we¡¯ll use it in our favor.¡±

    ¡°Is that?¡± One hand came up to cover my mouth.

    ¡°A giant eyeball thing. I¡¯m calling him Squints.¡± The Traveler sounded excited.

    I ran the identification skill as the creature got closer. It looked like a monster from some really old fantasy game. Instead of tons of squirming eyes being attached it had veins and roots waving around. There were no wings on its back. No sign of eyelids. It was bloodshot and intensely gross.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Race:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Detached Vitreous]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Health Pool:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Medium</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Description:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Its got perfect night vision and a questionable attitude. No one is entirely sure how it eats. Depth perception is non existant. It doesn¡¯t even shoot fireballs.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Well. On top of that it was staring at us. This was one gross eyeball that kept rapidly switching its gaze between the doorway, me, and Requiem. This must be how microscopic beings felt under a magnifying glass.

    I wanted to retch. It squirmed even more than the icy cockroach thing and was way too big.

    A giant ball of flame came down from above and smacked me in the face.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    We lied about the fireballs.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Joy. Fireunder a tree. Makesperfect sense. Floating eyeball thing.¡± My own eyes were rolling. At least the [Maze of Midnight] had a theme. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what this dungeon followed, but there had to be more than earthen tones to the place. I flicked away the pop-up box and stared at Requiem. He was looking up still.

    ¡°Loot. Precious loot.¡± Requiem said happily. He spun one sword in his hand and waved the other back and forth.

    Down came [Detached Vitreous].

 Book 2 - Made; Session Thirty Five - Dodging the Issue

    ¡°Go left!¡± Requiem yelled. I went to my left, which ended up being straight ahead. One of the little undead mole creatures popped up and I flew by stabbing at it.

    Requiem tested [Detached Vitreous] with a fireball. Liquid flame splashed off but didn¡¯t do much damage. At least the giant eye with its gross dirt didn¡¯t regenerate.

    ¡°These things!¡± I dodged around clumps of dirt being fired at us. A giant eyeball was enough on its own. Adding in the undead mole things and their dirt throwing was unfair.

    ¡°Stay near them.¡± Requiem spun with his blade and slashed at the eyeball''s feelers. ¡°We¡¯ll use the boss.¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡± That was not easy to do at all. Flying was still weird in many ways. Requiem¡¯s idea of friendly fire was good, though. Being a [Red Imp] meant I would survive the fireballs but these undead moles would probably get lit up.

    An unexpected burst of blue ice swirling into being. It leapt from the eyeball''s backside towards me.

    ¡°What?! Ice!¡± I yelled and scrambled to get out of the way. ¡°It¡¯s notjustfire!¡±

    ¡°Really? I didn¡¯t notice.¡± The Traveler''s hair stood up as he yelled out a battle cry. Requiem charged for the eyeball creature. He was certainly doing more damage than I but the [Detached Vitreous] didn¡¯t care.

    I watched the squiggles on the eyeball''s back twist together. They convulsed and knotted then straightened at once to point in my direction. Green light swam up from the eyeball''s depths and shot down the root like veins towards me.

    ¡°It¡¯s back! Theycome from there!¡± I said while jabbing with my pitchfork.

    ¡°I know.¡± His words were still fairly clear despite the madness about us. The undead moles and their stupid ¡®eeeeees¡¯ were killing my ears. ¡°I¡¯m watching them.¡±

    ¡°So aimthe firemaking ones overhere!¡± I shouted while somersaulting over another blast of the blues.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to do everything around here,¡± Requiem grumbled while swinging the ash trailing blade, creating a cloud on one side of [Detached Vitreous]. He dodged the other way and the giant eyeball tracked him. Another series of veins was facing in my direction. They did their twisty knotting thing and a ball of flame swirled into being.

    ¡°Fire! Fireisgood.¡± I tried to hug one of the dirt crawled undead moles. Part of me was annoyed that Requiem¡¯s constant use of me as a grappling imp was paying off.

    ¡°Eeeehhhg..¡± The mole''s annoying squeal of noise died off as it was burned to a crisp.

    ¡°Fourmore!¡± I shouted happily. No, there were seven more. The undead moles kept popping up around us. Each new one made the same stupid noise.

    ¡°You handle them. I¡¯ll keep the eye facing this way.¡± Requiem was far too calm during combat.

    ¡°Okay!¡± I was not. It was either me as a [Red Imp] or me as an easily excited player, but everything was racing. My heartbeat pounded loudly, the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] stabbed into anything that moved, and undead moles were aggravating.

    Two crackling roots shot out of the ground and reached for the cavern''s ceiling. A bolt of green hit one nearby and slapped into my side

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Poisoned!

    You are losing 1% health every five seconds until cured.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Ahfuckme reallywhat. Thisis nonsense!¡± I shouted while looking around. There was a timer on the poison, but it was minutes away.

    Wings over my shoulder kept distracting any attempt at situational awareness. I jabbed one end of the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into a root wall and pushed off. The added momentum sent me headlong into a ball of flame to regenerate health.

    Requiem hacked at the eyeball as it spun around to take in our battle scene. The Traveler took a moment to slash at the roots in the back. ¡°Got the poison ones.¡±

    ¡°Leave thefiremaking ones!¡± I desperately shouted while dodging around few clumps of dirt. This was a mad situation and being a [Red Imp] did not provide enough health.

    ¡°I actually know how to play, thanks,¡± Requiem said while swinging at the giant eye. His attacks were on point, but the giant thing had too much health.

    ¡°Stupidhead doesn¡¯t know eyeballs come intwos.¡± I muttered. Two eyeballs might be enough to do Requiem in. I did a quick calculation of all the flying objects and our little extra undead attackers. That black hole move would probably still kill everything.

    ¡°Don¡¯t jinx us.¡± He said while waving another trail of ash.

    I glanced up anyway. There was nothing visible but the few seconds available between projectiles was not enough to get a solid look. Hopefully, any other giant ugly eyeball was hanging around elsewhere. I still hadn¡¯t figured out exactly how boss spawns in dungeons worked. This was only my second one.

    ¡°Almost there,¡± Requiem muttered. The eyeball turned to stare at me while shooting streams of ice and fire at Requiem. ¡°Just a few more.¡±

    ¡°More until what?¡± I asked. This time it wasn¡¯t an attempt at confounding the Traveler. I was honestly perplexed.

    ¡°Shut up. Fly upwards! As high as you can!¡± Requiem shouted.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Not now, you stupid imp! Just follow orders!¡± Now Requiem was worked up. Seeing him agitated made me smile.

    ¡°Eeeeee!¡± The moles kept screaming their constant noises. Part of me longed for the days of video games on a computer screen. Something where their annoying sounds could be turned off.

    I started flying up towards the ceiling. Requiem bravely, or foolishly, stayed where he was swinging at the [Detached Vitreous]. Most of the small mole things were dead and another two roots had popped up in the cavern. The young player was using the obstacles to hide behind which caused them to take damage. I could see health bars as I turned to look down below.

    That also made me realize exactly how high up I had flown. I gulped for a moment and the world spun with vertigo. Below me, the giant eyeball grew closer. The veins on its back wiggled and spurted blood. Requiem could be seen smiling. He seemed to be lobbing small blades into the creature''s back.

    One giant tear crossed the eyeball''s front. It seemed to be swaying in the air as it climbed up towards my much smaller frame. I turned back towards the ceiling and put more distance between us.

    ¡°To your left!¡± Requiem shouted up at me. The eyeball turned abruptly midair and gazed at the Traveler. Fireballs spun out of the creature''s back in my direction which I happily caught. Free health was always nice.

    The Traveler below threw up another wall of ash and vanished. [Detached Vitreous] swiveled back around to me. My tail was twisted back and forth with nearly the same ferocity as the giant eyeball''s veins.

    ¡°Comeonstupid stupidno brain!¡± I shouted. Requiem¡¯s order had steered me close to the ceiling''s surface a few hundred feet above the floor.

    The eyeball hesitated as the ceiling grew closer. It seemed to be blinded by the giant gash that Requiem must have inflicted. I kept up my stream of insults to give the monster something to focus on.

    From below a long stream of fireballs came up. The heat of them was far beyond Requiem¡¯s normal intensity. Portions of the monster''s health bar chipped away, but it still had too much. Smoke billowed out from behind the eyeball and filled the cavern''s roof.

    Part of me really wondered exactly how the thing was flying to begin with. At least I had wings. They clearly didn¡¯t care one whit for the laws of physics.

    ¡°Drop it!¡± Requiem shouted his sword tip was being used to point at something nearby. ¡°Drop it quickly!¡±

    I turned and tried find what he was talking about. My vision wasn¡¯t hampered by the smoke at all, which was strange to me. There was a small box floating off to one side talking about [Red Imp]s and [DarkVision] alterations due to living in volcano filled plains. I didn¡¯t have time to read much.

    ¡°Okay!¡± I bumped my head into the ceiling and did a quick lap around the giant stalagmite that Requiem had pointed to. There was a clear crack in one side.

    I focused for a moment and shifted the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into spear form and hoped it wouldn¡¯t be damaged forever. My tiny arms and wings fluttered and yanked the weapon back and forth trying to dislodge the spike.

    ¡°Over here, you big fugly rotting eyeball!¡± Requiem shouted. I glanced down to see that most of the ash and smoke had cleared. The Traveler was trying to get [Detached Vitreous] to turn away from me.

    I wiggled the weapon even harder and gasped in happiness when the cracking started. A few more yanks on the weapon''s hilt succeeded in releasing the giant stalactite from the ceiling. Part of me felt absolutely giddy as the giant eyeball spun around. The [Detached Vitreous] looked at me, then to the falling spike, and back to me. If there had been eyelids or a face the expression would have been shock.

    Instead, there was a squish of noise as the spike entered one side and the orb popped. Bits of entrails flew everywhere. The [Detached Vitreous] seemed to be struggling to stay afloat despite clearly being dead. The effect was a body that lowered to the ground slowly.

    There was one item amid the chaos of gooey eyeball guts that caught my attention. Time seemed to compress and with every fraction of a second the synchronization meter jumped up. Messages of [Greed], [Greed], [Greed] flashed wildly. I took it as a sign from the Voices and dove for the loot.

    ¡°Mine! Dibs dibsdibs.¡± I shouted and quickly flew with all my speed to the falling body. A few weak fireballs and icy blasts splattered towards the ground, but none impeded me. Both chubby arms shot out and grabbed for the item. I got something in my hands and a message box popped up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Significant [Greed] demonstrated rare loot received!

    Synchronization 74%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Whatever it was fit into one palm. The [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] had somehow transformed into a tiny pitchfork and was being held by my tail. I quickly slapped both hands over my chest and held on while tumbling. The shift in weight from gravity taking over sent me falling even faster. Both wings were frantically beating while I, the remains of [Detached Vitreous], and a giant portion of the ceiling landed with thuds.

    I was cackling happily. That one item grab had sent my completion percentage up by four percent. Being [Greedy] had paid off. At least it seemed to pay off until Requiem approached.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± He stabbed down one of his swords right next to my tiny body. I flinched and tried to roll away. A heavy foot stomped onto my tail and prevented escape. ¡°I asked you a question, Imp.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s mine!¡± I shouted. ¡°Not yours giantstupiddummy.¡±

    ¡°Everything you own is mine unless I say otherwise.¡± Requiem cleaned off his other sword slowly. There was a gleam in his eyes that made my teeth chatter.

    By rolling a little, it was obvious that everything down here was dead. Roots that had shot into the air now looked wilted or charred. Tiny undead moles were in shambles all over the floor. Pools of green, blue, and red could clearly be seen dotting the landscape.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s safe. I¡¯ve made sure it¡¯s just you and me in this room.¡± Requiem said while leaning over me. The smile on his face was utterly false.

    I nodded and tried to focus on jerking the tail away from him. The game made it twist and turn, but there was no escape. He looked especially cruel when it was apparent that half the dead monster''s guts were still hanging all over his body. The second foot near my face must have landed in some mole''s head.

    ¡°So what did you get?¡± Requiem said.

    ¡°Noneya, twerp,¡± I muttered. He quickly slapped me across the face and I saw my percentage bar go up a bit more. Messages of both [Defiance] and [Self-Serving] popped up.

    ¡°Try again. The truth this time.¡± He seemed almost bored with this whole process of beating me. It clearly never got him results.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to tell you,¡± I answered. That was a completely true statement.

    Another slap in the face rewarded me with pain.

    ¡°You seem to misunderstand the nature of our arrangement. I am the master, and you are the servant. How many times must I remind you of this?¡± Requiem asked. He slammed the cleaned sword down into the ground rapidly. It was much closer to my face than the first one.

    I smiled happily. Death was a release of character, and there was nothing frightening about that to me. Most physical pain was very transitory in the world of Continue Online. However dying might mean this precious item would be left behind. There was another option that might help me secure the loot.

    ¡°Tell me what you have?¡± Requiem demanded an answer again. I ignored him and clenched my teeth as pain shot through me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Resistance is Futile.

    Total Damage: 33%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Nnngh.¡± Noise escaped me. I closed both eyes and focused on my body shifting from one spot to another. The thought relayed over and over showing me under Requiem at one moment, then elsewhere another.

    [Blink] triggered and the world spun. I found myself standing up with one foot squishing into something''s leftovers. Looking around caused a brief vertigo. My [Blink] had placed me on top of the broken ceiling''s remains with the dead eyeball chunks beneath me.

    ¡°What? Where did¡­¡± Requiem sounded confused from somewhere behind me.

    I stared at the object in my hand and quickly used [Identification]. The results made me grind my teeth in annoyance. Still, the percentage bar increase had been my primary goal. Once things settled with Requiem then I could look at the rank increase and hope it was worth revealing my secret ability.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Results:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Seer¡¯s Tear</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Category:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Precious</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Not much information is available about this object right now. It¡¯s said to reveal secrets beyond what normal people can see. Without the other half no one will ever know.

    Note!

    This item is part of a set. Without both, no effects will reveal themselves.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Turning it into a bound item like the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was impossible. There was only one way to prevent Requiem from taking it. I swallowed the [Seer¡¯s Tear] quickly. The object hurt going down. My health dropped a few more percentage but the synchronization bar went up. It was a win all around for me.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Requiem was yelling from behind me. I hadn¡¯t heard his words over the sensation of my insides trying to digest a marble-like object. My face slowly straightened out as I turned to face my contractor.

    ¡°What? Whatdo youwant jeez?¡± I said while tapping my foot.

    ¡°What was that?¡± He asked. Requiem was ignoring the dead bodies around us for once and looking directly at me.

    ¡°Stupid. Itwas dumb butnow, it¡¯s mine.¡± That was all the answer regarding the [Seer¡¯s Tear] I would provide Requiem. This loot truly was useless on its own and Requiem would never let me get the other half.

    ¡°Not that, you obnoxious little imp. How did you get over there?¡± He said.

    ¡°Also nonya,¡± I said happily.

    ¡°I order you to tell me during the next ten seconds exactly what you used.¡± Requiem had weeks in-game herding my [Red Imp] around. The teen could actually nail down an order fairly well when he tried.

    ¡°I blinked.¡± My sharp teeth cut at each other. The ARC quickly relayed irritated feelings into action. I missed the days of Carver¡¯s delayed reactions to all my internal thoughts.

    ¡°Blinked?¡± Requiem paused and tilted his head. ¡°How long have you been able to do that?¡±

    ¡°Since before you were born,¡± I answered truthfully. Part of me was giddy that the Voices let me get away with such clear abuse of the system.

    I saw him pause again.

    ¡°Fine. Whatever it is, that¡¯s your one loot. Everything else is mine.¡± Requiem growled and grabbed both swords out of the ground. He didn¡¯t even bother cleaning them off a second time. Both vanished into his player inventory.

    The next hour was spent cleaning up after dead bodies and inspecting everything nearby. Requiem seemed to have some sort of beginner mining skill and set about digging through rubble for nearby veins and loot. I was bored enough to log out and take a break.

    Once outside the ARC I shook from the adrenaline rush. Fifteen minutes of real life had passed and it wasn¡¯t enough to calm my physical body down completely. I paced around the house and grabbed at my hair.

    The one trump card I had was ruined. [Blink] was no longer a secret hidden thing to save for later. Knowing Requiem he was planning on how to abuse my [Red Imp] character even more. Could he do anything special with the [Blink] skill? I had no good ideas at this point. There was a noise in the background that was distracting me.

    ¡°Someone answer the damn phone!¡± I shouted. Maybe the irritation flooding me was caused by hunger. Not one sweet piece of food had passed my lips in the weeks of Continue Online. It was normally grab and go food or lunch bars. Soreness from the EXR-Sevens stacked on top to make everything unbearable.

    I grabbed part of the door frame to my room and tried leaning into various stretches. They were nearly useless inside the ARC. Real life muscle stiffness couldn¡¯t be resolved by sleeping in a bed all day. Especially not one that put my physical body through endless muscle spasm cycles to simulate cardio and light weight lifting.

    The ringing kept going. ¡°Someone get the phone!¡±

    It took me a moment to realize that I was alone in my house. There was no one to answer the phone but a computer or me. I sighed and felt foolish. Part of me had been so dazed by being in the ARC with my old house, and the prospect of Xin that it felt like old times. Back when I had a job with a staff of coworkers.

    ¡°Grant here,¡± I answered my own phone with an irritated voice command.

    ¡°Mister Legate.¡± Vice President Riley¡¯s face popped onto my screen. I blinked a few times. Her face was still plain though her hair looked a bit shorter. There was a ring around the woman¡¯s eyes that felt more disheveled than the last time we conversed.

    ¡°Miz Riley,¡± I said carefully. Part of my mind was still in [Red Imp] mode. Rushing words together or avoiding real answers would not go over well.

    ¡°Mister Legate, I wanted to talk to you personally about this, but there¡¯s not enough time.¡± She avoided sighing, but her eyes seemed to yawn from exhaustion. ¡°I had a report run on your ARC software and found that you¡¯ve never confirmed having a Touchstone.¡±

    ¡°A what?¡± My mind ran through all the ARC software I had been through over the years. Slowly a vague memory sprung up. Touchstones were safety measures for the hyper realistic mind bender games.

    ¡°A Touchstone. Based on your latest reports regarding the Voices I believe you will find yourself in need of one soon.¡± Miz Riley said. Her gaze drifted away from the screen and focused on something else. A hand waved off to one side shooing someone.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll do that.¡± I said.

    ¡°Good. That¡¯s excellent. All of our Beta testers were advised to create them, and they come as standard warnings on horror games.¡± This time a sigh did escape her. She seemed to be waving someone off again but wasn¡¯t getting the desired response.

    ¡°If you¡¯re ever in doubt about our communications please come see me in person.¡± She said.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I was afraid to put too much thought into that. She had implied before that technology might not be trustworthy. Given the realism of the Voices, I was on the fence myself. Not that self-doubt was stopping me from logging in each night.

    ¡°Very well. Keep filing your reports, I am reading them. Farewell, Mister Legate.¡± Vice President Riley said. A strand of hair that had been pinned back fell forward across her face making the woman look even more disheveled.

    ¡°Bye.¡± The word didn¡¯t even make it out of my mouth before our call disconnected.

    I fired up the ARC display and took a look at Continue Online¡¯s preview window. Requiem was fighting something with my [Red Imp] form freely using [Blink] to get around. Clearly the secret was out so even my autopilot didn¡¯t care. They were moving a lot quicker through the dungeon.

    Maybe now using the skill would get easier. Even my autopilot''s reduced skill growth helped. The ability took a large portion of mana with each cast. To top it off required a huge amount of [Focus]. No wonder most people preferred saying the spells out loud, even if they sounded like poems from a teenager''s diary.

    No. I would stick with my voiceless spell for however long the [Red Imp] character existed. Requiem Mass could chain cast fireballs without using any words, so I should be able to [Blink] around effortlessly after enough practice. The only trick was thinking about it hard enough that the ARC adapted correctly.

    A few hours passed outside the box while my Touchstone was created. There were fairly simple rules with what they were and how to use one. Most people put something small, written with words near the ARC. Some games enjoyed having mind benders in them and would create life like simulations of places people knew. Touchstones helped separate fiction and reality.

    After mine was in place I logged back into the [Red Imp] body. Requiem seemed unaware of the changeover between AI and human. We traveled through a few more of the tunnel''s twists and turns. There were other little monsters but nothing that Requiem couldn¡¯t handle on his own. I floated behind wondering if my choice had been the right one. We were only halfway way through this dungeon according to him.

    Supposedly there was a bigger boss creature down below. There was also this stupid item''s description about another half. I had wasted my loot choice on a thing that needed both parts to work. It was aggravating but somehow expected.

    ¡°Howmuch further?¡± I asked.

    ¡°An hour, maybe two tops. We¡¯ll have to rest up here.¡± Requiem took items out of his player inventory and started setting up a small camp.

    ¡°Whatever. We have to clear this place tonight and move on to the main castle. If everything goes right I¡¯ll have all the tools need to kill Freakinstain and get his half of the key.¡± The Traveler kept pulling out items, quaffing potions that made his face twist, putting on better armor.

    ¡°Key?¡± A squeak escaped me. I watched him discard one set of boots for another.

    ¡°Yes. The very one needed for this quest you¡¯re so insistent upon.¡± Requiem sounded upbeat about finishing the quest. I know it made me happy to think about this strange adventure being over.

    ¡°Iam. Thenwe canbe done withthisplace.¡± I said happily.

    Beth, my niece, had said that quests sometimes had layers. That occasionally another way through could be found. According to the Voices'' original description, this method should work. The Voices had clearly stated their only reason for wanting Requiem dead, in-game, was because he hadn¡¯t completed the mission yet.

    ¡°Eat up,¡± Requiem said. He gestured to a pile of burned food. It looked worse than the cupcake had. This young man knew nothing of cooking.

    ¡°Fine.¡± I tried not to think about the taste. His food did provide a small buff to my mana regeneration. Working with him might be far better than working against him. Especially if this objective could be completed without needing murder.

    We sat in camp while Requiem did a whole slew of preparations. He put oils on both the swords and checked the armor over. His body moved around through a series of stretches to temporarily increase his [Limberness]. The Traveler even ate his own food. That last one made my face turn to temporary disgust.

    I, of course, was left to my own [Red Imp] devices. For the most part, it consisted of shifting my weapon around into other forms and trying to better use [Blink]. In the time it took Requiem to finish his farting around I managed to make another thirty-something attempts and got [Blink] to Rank 2.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Reward:

    For reaching 75% Synchronization, you will gain further access to racial skills.

    Unlocked!

    Rank 3 synchronization ¨C additional changes

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Awareness Heightening] skill granted</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Pointier Points] skill granted </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    When I wasn¡¯t low on mana from [Blink] attempts my mind focused on the new skills. [Awareness Heightening] seemed to use the ARC¡¯s compression system to provide me a different perception of time. Using it once felt like every event where the Voices had spoken rapidly over my head, only not as intense. [Awareness Heightening] was closer to when I had watched the [Detached Vitreous] fall with loot.

    [Pointier Points] was tied to my tail and teeth. They were even sharper so the first thing I did was accidentally stab my own leg. That caused Requiem to pause in his preparations for a bout of laughter. It made me frown while giving the twisting tail a glare. The silly thing had a mind of its own most days.

    ¡°Time to go.¡± Requiem stood up and everything from our little camp was back in his inventory. The younger man carried around far too many items for my liking.

    ¡°Okay. Letsgokill thiswhateverthing.¡± I said rather happily. We were finally making progress.

    ¡°Just down here,¡± Requiem said.

    We stepped into a much larger cavern. There was a giant torch illuminating the room. My [Darkvision] flipped off.

    ¡°Perfect. We can avoid the boss." He said while looking around at the new room. This was smaller than the [Detached Vitreous]''s cavern. The back wall with a torch seems flat and three stories tall.

    "How thewhat?" I asked.

    "You stand over there, and I¡¯ll stand over here.¡± Requiem pointed on the ground. There were two circles, one red, one green. I was fairly sure [Red Imp]s hated green but that was the one he ordered me to stand in.

    Plus I was kind of working with the young man now. Even after weeks of trying to kill him. If we got along and completed everything then there would be no need for further unpleasantness.

    ¡°Okay. Overhere.¡± I flew across the distance. Between our two standing markers was something that looked like a coffin. This body was far too short and couldn¡¯t get a good view.

    ¡°Alright, now stay there and don¡¯t move until I tell you to.¡± He ordered. Now I was stuck in place regardless of my cooperation or not. Some orders were easier to loophole than others.

    We both stood in our spots and the room started to rumble. I looked up, worried that another eyeball might float down at any moment and cast ugly icy bolts in my direction. No such thing happened.

    The torch lighting up this giant cavern dimmed slowly and the top portion of the coffin slid off to one side.

    ¡°Excellent.¡± Requiem dashed over and looked inside. Soon he was laughing, not a friendly happy laugh, not a good joke laugh, but the kind of amusement that went with triumph over one''s enemies and possible world domination.

    ¡°What isit?¡± I shouted while trying to at least fly up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Shame on you for disobeying a simple order

    Total Damage: 90%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Good. This is exactly what I needed.¡± Requiem nodded and pulled something out of the coffin. Bones snapped under their own weight leaving behind a dull looking necklace with an eye on it. The Traveler lifted his new piece of equipment then slid it over his head.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Your replacement. With this necklace, I no longer need you.¡± Requiem turned so I could see the necklace easier. It glinted briefly and seemed to suck in more light. The torch up above still burned but its flame had tilted in his direction.

    ¡°Okay? But Ithought we werekilling that Freakinstain guy?¡± I said while ruffling my eyebrows together. A quick glance around revealed that there was only one real exit out of here. Why then, had Requiem done all the preparation ahead of time?

    ¡°You think I would ever work with you? You were only there to serve as a tool, and you clearly didn¡¯t intend to do even that.¡± Requiem Mass smiled.

    ¡°We havea contract based on completing yourmission.¡± I tried to sound firm. My face felt cold and skin clammy. This was not how things were intended to go at all. He was screwing me over, and the Voices had me locked into this character until the quest was completed or Requiem released my [Red Imp] summons.

    ¡°Oh no. You, you¡¯re still my familiar, and because of that you can sit down here until I dismiss you.¡± He said. Requiem walked over to me and poke my chubby belly.

    ¡°When is that?¡± I said the words slowly.

    ¡°Eventually, once I kill Freakinstain, once I take this place for all it¡¯s worth.¡± Requiem smiled at me. I thought about stabbing him with the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] but the system meted out more damage. That made the Traveler grin even wider. ¡°And when there¡¯s nothing left to milk from this place. Then I¡¯ll release you.¡±

    With that, Requiem left the room at high speeds. He had both swords out and seemed intent upon escaping.

    The wall behind the empty coffin, where the torch sat with a dim remainder of light, groaned slowly. I turned and looked up while feeling abandoned, betrayed, and worried about the future of my quest to help Xin. Slowly the torchlight faded while the wall vibrated even more.

    [Darkvision] kicked in and the entire wall became visible.

    It was a giant face missing one eye. The orb that remained was staring down at me. There certainly was a theme to this underground dungeon, and it stared me in the face.

    ¡°Requiem! I¡¯llstab you!¡± I shouted. The wall groaned again while lips curled on either side to form a demented smile. My gaze traveled between the tunnel out and the wall looming over me.

    Today had been going so well.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Thirty Six â€“ Spite Unbound

    <cite></cite>One gross eye peered out of a muddy face to stare down at me. I still stood inside the circle which glowed la light green. Standing here reminded me of the [Red Imp]''s natural dislike for this color. It made perfect sense now. I too was learning to detest it.

    Had the Voices seen far enough ahead to give me this warning? Maybe if I had stayed true to the character I could have protested my way out of standing on this side. There had to be something special about the side Requiem was on that let him escape without stirring the face''s ire.

    ¡°Let¡¯s faceit.¡± I glanced around. ¡°Neither of us expectedthis.¡±

    The wall groaned again. Probably from my bad pun. No, wait, something else was clearly going on. I looked up and the face looked tired. The eyeball staring at me was heavy-lidded. It had been hard to tell because the eyelid was made of crumbling dirt.

    ¡°Rockabye baby?¡± I tried to hum but damage spiked through with a message regarding my order violation. ¡°Aggghh.¡±

    I tried to move away from the evil green circle beneath me, but another rod of pain crippled my character before it even got anywhere. The ARC feedback was muted so it only felt like slamming my head into a wall or bending a finger out of the socket. Neither one was worth risking repeatedly to break away from a boring situation.

    So we sat there for ten minutes, just the wall and I. Well, the autopilot sat there while I dove off to the bathroom and downed a cup of coffee. The [Red Imp] was still unmoved a few minutes later which was good, I guess.

    None of my normal tricks worked. I tried to cite cases where Requiem had told me to move in hopes that the computer would accept those as a counter order. Tapping my feet slowly in the beat of a lullaby didn¡¯t put the creature to sleep. The [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] might be able to turn into a flute if I tried hard enough, but woodwinds were beyond my skills.

    The other option available to me was enduring the pain until my health bar reached zero. That would release the [Red Imp] and put my mind back into Hermes. Okay, I could do that. This would hurt. Inflicting pain upon myself was much different than letting it happen. My foot lifted and teeth clenched.

    ¡°What in the unholy depths of Taurus has happened in here?¡± A new voice exclaimed.

    ¡°What? Whosethere and whatdoyou want?!¡± I barely righted myself from the potential damage. My foot went back down as I whirled around. The wall wasn¡¯t talking, it still looked sleepy.

    ¡°Oh, hey, the little demon mongrel.¡± The new person said.

    ¡°Ah! PoserMan!¡± I shouted and stabbed rapidly at the air between us. The pitchfork didn¡¯t look menacing enough on my short frame.

    ¡°Frankenstein, if you please.¡± He was still a goofy looking Traveler. About his neck was the rippled white fabric with a popped up collar. The shiny, curled boots on his feet were new. At some point in the last few weeks, he had fixed the uneven sleeves on his coat.

    ¡°Freakinstain!¡± I happily corrected myself. ¡°What areyou doinghere?¡±

    Maybe if he got close enough I could jab my weapon through his eye while cackling madly. The thought of casually murdering another player made me feel chill for a moment. I decided attacking Frankenstein wouldn¡¯t be in character.

    ¡°Well I was checking on my pet project, only to find that half of them were dead or run over. I assume that fool Requisite Ass had something to do with this?¡± Frankenstein waved one hand at the giant mud face.

    ¡°What?¡± I squeaked.

    ¡°You¡¯re in my dungeon, little demon runt.¡± PoserMan glanced down at me. All he needed to pull off the completely over the top look was a pair of shades. Maybe square ones that glinted even without sunlight.

    ¡°Litterunt is redundant. Runt implieslittle. Youarestupid too.¡± I gave a glare to convey how I felt about his intelligence level. This guy irked me slightly more than Requiem.

    ¡°What? Hey, I¡¯m working on a vibe here. Stop disrupting my flow.¡± Frankenstein actually looked wounded. He paused and tugged at the collar to make sure it was still in position. ¡°Method acting, you know?¡±

    ¡°Waitwhat?¡± I was floored. The guy was acting like a poser on purpose? That was far worse than me pretending to be a [Red Imp]! Hopefully, it was worse anyway.

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s an act. Now, where was I. Oh!¡± He turned to the giant face and raised both his arms.

    ¡°Whywould youact so stupid?¡± I shouted abruptly.

    ¡°Look, little demon runt guy, I spent all day long dealing with legal babble in my world.¡± Frankenstein or whatever his name was actually looked affronted. He swished a strand of hair out of his face, checked the collar once again, and walked over to me. He tapped his own chest. ¡°I think I deserve to let my hair down and have fun.¡±

    ¡°This isfun?¡± I should have stabbed him in the eye. By the time it occurred to me that I could try to kill him instead and deal with Requiem, the other Traveler was too far away. He stood a little too far away in the red circle.

    ¡°Bah. Demons have no sense of humor, not like my minions. Now.¡± He turned and raised his arms back up again. ¡°Oh Great Lord! I call upon you to awaken from thine slumber!

    ¡°Thine?¡± PoserMan was too kind of a nickname.

    The wall started moving a little faster. It groaned and shook while dirt fell in clumps from the ceiling. I looked up in fear that another giant spike was sitting up above waiting to impale me in some twisted sense of irony.

    The room kept moving and the face in the wall pulled back a little bit. Dirt slipped all around us to fill in the small gap. Finally, the rumbling knocked me off my tiny, weak [Red Imp] legs. A fresh round of pain shot through my neck.

    ¡°Common!¡± I shouted. That wasn¡¯t even my fault. This game was being a jerk now. ¡°I hatethis contract!¡±

    ¡°Shut up, little demon. I¡¯m working here.¡± Frankenstein wasn¡¯t really rude sounding, more like absently reminding me. It was annoying to be talked to like I was a small child in the presence of grownups. This [Red Imp] body may be short, but I was a damned adult.

    ¡°Youshut up!¡± I shouted back feeling extremely irritated. Being trapped in a circle felt bad enough, having Frankenstein here was like salt on a wound.

    ¡°No you!¡± He lost himself and yelled back.

    ¡°No youshutup now!¡± I barked the order. It was useless since Frankenstein was at least three times my height. He raised one preened eyebrow and looked confused.

    ¡°Why am I arguing with you? This is why I prefer the undead.¡± He shook his head quickly.

    There was a wall of his beloved half zombies back in the tunnel''s mouth. Dozens of rats and moles stood there, each the giant, half-functional variety. I readied the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] for stabbing in case they came over.

    ¡°uUuuuuur.¡± The face on the wall said. The vibration registered low enough that it hurt my ears.

    ¡°Oh, yes, I¡¯m listening. Sorry.¡± Frankenstein stood a bit straighter.

    ¡°Uuuur?¡± The face couldn¡¯t be speaking in actual words. If it was then my [Red Imp] racial would pick it up. There was no translation box coming into being like there had been with the [Lithium] Requiem chanted.

    ¡°UUuur.¡± It said.

    ¡°Right. Yes, Lord, I saw your poor eye.¡± Frankenstein actually winced and looked sad. The wall too seemed vaguely upset. It was sluggish. Almost like a stroke victim where part of the face didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°Uuuur.¡± It groaned a low tone again. I bit my tongue trying to prevent the back of my jaw from aching.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    A moment of weakness

    Total Health Lost: 75%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I tried not to roll my eyes. The little girl Voice in charge of all these messages was citing the reason for all of my problems. It was full of an endless series of weak moments.

    ¡°Fixing it is far beyond any abilities I have now.¡± Frankenstein bowed. The coattails made him look almost like a butler bowing before royalty.

    ¡°Uuuur Uuurg.¡± The wall moved a bit again. More dirt fell from above. I tried to understand exactly what was going on here. Requiem and I had gone a huge distance underground and somehow there was a, I don¡¯t know, underground giant sitting here?

    ¡°Oh. I¡¯m sorry, I haven¡¯t properly introduced you, Lord Gwar, meet¡­¡± The Traveler blinked a little bit. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t actually know his name. I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ve failed you.¡±

    ¡°Uuuuurrrrr.¡±

    ¡°Spite? That is a good name, Lord, your suggestions are perfect as always.¡± Frankenstein turned to me and smiled. ¡°Congratulations on your new, exquisite name.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Background Altered:

    [Nameless] removed

    Spite name added. Unique status confirmed

    [Spiteful] characteristic added. Actions which hurt, annoy, or offend someone will increase synchronization

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    That was weird. Having a name came with an interesting benefit. I tried to figure out which was more valuable, [Greed] or [Spiteful]. Though given the way things were going, building my bar was almost worthless. How much longer would I be able to roam free before needing to conclude things with Requiem?

    He was probably out there right now trying to bring things to a close. Here I was trapped in a stupid green circle. My current desire was to drive the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] through his backside and be done with this.

    ¡°Uur. Uuuughhrrrrrr.¡± The wall said shaking my thoughts of self-reflection.

    ¡°Thanks. Iguess?¡± This was worse than Shazam and Arnold talking. At least their hands wiggling back and forth were clearly words. There was a pattern to them. This wall just said the same noise over and over. From what I could tell Frankenstein was making up the giant face''s half of the conversation.

    ¡°Nnnnnnuuuu.¡± The walls lips slowly turned downward in a pout. ¡°Nnr ruuu.¡±

    ¡°I know. He found the Eye of True Sight.¡± Frankenstein said. He managed to keep a straight face despite the severity implied. At least now I had a name for the necklace Requiem had picked up.

    ¡°Rrrrrghhh. Uuur.¡± Dirt rumbled around again and I wanted to stab the face until it stopped. Wait, that was the [Red Imp] act talking. I wanted to press the fast forward button on this conversation. The most realistic part of Continue Online had to be the inability to skip other people''s talking.

    ¡°Well, Lord, I honestly had not expected Requisite Ass to actually find someone willing to work with him. I believe he¡¯ll be headed to the castle soon.¡±

    ¡°What areyoutalking about! I wantedtokill him! A lot! With stabbings!¡± I shouted each stream of words as they occurred to me. Throughout the entire conversation, I managed to stay inside the stupid, annoying, terrible green circle.

    ¡°Uuuuuur?¡±

    ¡°I know, right? Aren¡¯t you his summon?¡± Frankenstein turned to me and did that head tilting process again. I wanted to shove a pair of shades on his face. He seemed so incomplete.

    ¡°Not by choice!¡± I stomped a foot. It was actually a lie, I was chosen to be Requiem¡¯s familiar but the Voices had a separate mission for me.

    ¡°Uur.¡± The giant face actually seemed to disapprove with its tone.

    ¡°Yes indeed, Lord. I too prefer undead, they¡¯re so much more stable.¡± Whatever it said must have been an insult towards me. I was only trying to do what my quest said. Requiem¡¯s abusive nature made it easy to want to stab him..

    ¡°Uur. Urr.¡± The wall said.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll ask him.¡± Frankenstein turned to me and smiled happily. He crossed one hand over his heart and held the other up, palm outward. ¡°Would you like to help me kill your master? It¡¯ll be fun, I swear.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s kindofthe pointofmy existence.¡± I glared at him.

    ¡°Really? Will wonders never cease.¡±

    ¡°Uuurrrrrrrr rrr. Uh.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you may rest again, Lord. I¡¯ll talk to him.¡± Frankenstein said. He bowed to the giant wall again which caused his coattails to flip up.

    ¡°Hey uhh, tellhim I¡¯m sorry aboutthe eye!¡± Now that the floating eyeball with its evil squiggles was vaguely attached to a thinking creature I felt kind of ashamed.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°We, I, uhh, kindofdropped part ofa ceiling ontoit and made a splat.¡± I toed the ground with one of my gross looking feet.

    ¡°Oh, that. Yes, I already knew. My minions have been reporting back to me everything you and Requisite Ass have done. That¡¯s how I knew it was safe to come down here.¡± He frowned. ¡°Though I wish I had known sooner,¡±.

    ¡°Then whydidn¡¯t you know Ihave been trying to kill him!¡± I started to hop up and down in irritation. It was amazingly fun under normal [Red Imp] circumstances. The game world bolted me with another tingle of pain which made me scowl.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re very bad at it.¡± He said.

    ¡°Shut up!¡± My quick response sounded childish. It wasn¡¯t fair. I had been trying to off the abusive player for days and failing.

    ¡°No you!¡±

    ¡°Ahhh! Stabbbbing!¡± I drew back the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and tried to extend it into the Traveler''s face. He fizzled out with that strange, wiggly darkness. The end result was his face looking confused while I looked stupid.

    ¡°That¡¯s an odd weapon.¡± He tilted his head. The guy was kind of flighty so far.

    ¡°Whatever dieinafire, twice.¡± I flipped him off and felt perfectly happy with myself. A positive marker flickered across my synchronization bar citing [Spiteful] as the reason.

    The wall behind us looked to be completely asleep. This way there would be no more of that mind numbing groaning.

    ¡°So will you help me get rid of that brat so I can finish this quest?¡± Frankenstein looked childishly hopeful. Just how much time did he spend working with his legal jargon? Did this guy ever come out of his house?

    ¡°What¡¯s initfor me?¡± I took the chance to play up my [Greed] angle for a few more points. It was fun to pretend at being a little jerk.

    The man pinched his nose and sighed. ¡°Undead even solve their own needs. Fifty half-rotting rabbits and I don¡¯t have to farm them carrots.¡±

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°That¡¯s special.¡± I tried to play up the [Nasty] trait while pushing this [Greed] thing a bit more. Apparently the game approved. There was a long way to go before one hundred percent and every little bit helped.

    ¡°What exactly do you want?¡± He sighed and shooed off the wall of undead standing in the doorway. They slowly faded with odd hops and clumps of movement.

    ¡°I took half a Seer¡¯s Tear from Requisite Ass.¡± I loved that nickname for the younger man. He was such a brat and deserved it. ¡°Can you get me the other half?¡±

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± Frankenstein fiddled with his coat and shuffled both feet. ¡°I guess. But I should probably get something in return.¡±

    ¡°You suckat dealing.¡± I said.

    ¡°Yeah. I don¡¯t get out much. Just me and the computers.¡± He sounded almost ashamed. Part of me completely understood, though. If it wasn¡¯t for the house call nature of my job we would probably be exactly the same. I almost wanted to go easy on the poor guy. He was certainly more likable than Requiem if a bit more over the top with his attire.

    ¡°Okay. Iknowwhere Requiem is. If you can freeme and getme the other Seer¡¯s Tear. I¡¯ll help you kill him.¡± I put out my end of the deal.

    ¡°Really? Just for¡­¡± He paused and clammed up. ¡°Deal struck! You won¡¯t go back on it right?¡±

    ¡°No! I needhim todie!¡± I gnashed my teeth. That Traveler¡¯s earlier taunting about how he planned to bleed this place dry pissed me off. It went against everything William Carver believed in. Mistreating the entire world of Continue Online wasn¡¯t allowable.

    Not to mention there was Xin. I had tried not to dwell on her during these last few days. This entire silly situation had started with helping her. I shook my head to get rid of that train of thoughts.

    ¡°Okay. Well, the only way I know to free you is an unbinding ceremony.¡± Frankenstein was already bending over the ground and chalking in something. It looked familiar to me, very much like the original circle that Requiem had used to summon me.

    ¡°Dothatnow.¡± I tilted my head and watched him make the circle bigger. He was amazingly precise.

    ¡°It¡¯s not all kittens and rainbows. I¡¯m a really bad summoner for living things.¡± He looked down and frowned. Every few steps he would add a symbol that looked vaguely like [Lithium]. This was my second experience with it.

    ¡°Whatever.¡± I crossed my arms and started tapping one foot. Waltz? Salsa? Part of me wanted to hum but being zapped repeatedly for days had fixed that habit.

    ¡°And if you die, there¡¯s no coming back.¡± Frankenstein looked at me for a moment.

    I shrugged. ¡°Sounds likea winwin. This place is terribleIhateit all.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s death, little demon, and even I can¡¯t pull you back across the void.¡± His face scrunched on one side.

    ¡°And the tear.¡± I threw out a hand.

    ¡°Okay. Sure. That was the deal. I¡¯ll unbind you, and you tell me where Requiem is at so I can send everything to crush him.¡±

    ¡°Willthatwork?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m out of options.¡± Frankenstein looked a bit bashful. He turned up to the giant face missing an eyeball and actually seemed sad. His lip stuck out with a slight pout.

    ¡°Howabout I tellyou all his moves.¡±

    ¡°I already know about the blazing sword and his aura.¡± He muttered while turning back to the circle in front of him. He seemed to be studying the corners for anything that might be missing.

    ¡°How abouttheblackhole? Big, mean, sucksin everything. He does a stupid chant to fireit up.¡± I said while gesturing with my hands. The [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was planted into the ground.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s new. See this deal is already paying off.¡± He smiled happily. Frankenstein seemed like a kid in a candy store when things were going his way. That was slightly less annoying than his whiny attitude when Requiem had chased him off the first time.

    ¡°Thereisone more thing.¡± I picked up my weapon. The [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] got another quick twirl before being stabbed into the ground again. The action kept me busy while waiting for other people to talk.

    ¡°Really?¡± He looked confused for a moment then nodded.

    ¡°Tear first.¡± I put out a hand. ¡°Tear, I tellyou, you freeme, I tellyou where he is and we, kill him.¡±

    ¡°Wait. Let¡¯s do the unbind first. That way we¡¯re staying even. It¡¯s only fair.¡± Frankenstein went back to his chalk outlining with a lot more haste. He waved a free hand at me. ¡°I¡¯ll scribe out the rest of these runes, you just wait there.¡±

    ¡°Bestdayever.¡± I glared at the final runes being written into the ground. He used a different sort of chalk for the bigger shapes. Steam started to waft off of the white and pink markings. They were pretty clear with [Darkvision].

    ¡°Here we go.¡± There was a final spot for his hand. He placed it inside a much smaller circle.

    Everything tilted sideways and the pain started. It felt so familiar to me. My neck burned again as it did with every single time I disobeyed Requiem¡¯s orders. This occurrence went deeper. It felt like the second time I tried to end it all. The feeling of digging into my own neck with a screwdriver came to mind.

    Now I wasn¡¯t sitting in the circle with Frankenstein, I was reliving that moment of the past. That had been my second moment of weakness where I tried to cash in everything on the hope of an afterlife. Then the alarms in my house flared to life and the machine called an ambulance. The neighborhood had a first response unit that bashed its way past all the security locks and got me sedated and stabilized. False blood had been pumped into my body and the next day I woke up in the hospital.

    It was like that moment all over again. Only on the outside, during that moment where consciousness slipped away, it wasn¡¯t the floor of my home. It was this cave with Frankenstein that faded. On the other side was Hermes, sitting looking over a sprawling battlefield. I turned my head for a moment thinking this was a weird version of heaven.

    Shazam sat there. She gave me a thumbs up and the world spun away again. Pain continued to wreck a course along all my nerves. The idea of pressing the logout button was too far removed. Then everything snapped and the world rang for a moment. I was back in the cave while two system messages sat in front of me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Unbound] status added!

    You are no longer bound to this plane. Any events that reduces your health to zero will cause your summon status to release completely. All orders given prior are now no longer in effect.

    Total Health Lost: 99%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    It was critical. My vision was blurred and every limb felt leaden. I tried to flutter my wings, but they flopped uselessly.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Frankenstein asked.

    ¡°Tear. Nowthe tear.¡± I muttered trying not to heave. My insides felt as if they were in turmoil. The quick back and forth between characters had been mentally exhausting. It was like I ran two miles while being dehydrated.

    Frankenstein handed over another small marble object. I ran it through [Identification] and nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve held up my end.¡± He said. ¡°So. You should still be able to tell where he is, Spite?¡±

    Luckily I had a quest marker that told me exactly where Requiem was. That was one of the perks of needing to kill him as a player. ¡°Yes. Icantell. Aboveground now, north, fivemiles maybe.¡±

    ¡°My castle.¡± Frankenstein became even paler. He started shaking.

    ¡°Youhavea castle?¡± I said, but it was too late. The man had already whooshed away with his red squiggles of darkness.

    There I sat. A second [Seer¡¯s Tear] which was cleverly marked on [Identification] with a two of two symbol. Only the first one was somewhere in my belly and had been traveling through for hours.

    The Voices above didn¡¯t bless my [Red Imp] self with a player''s inventory or even pockets. There was no strap to hold it down with and clutching it in my hands was useless. I went with swallowing the second [Seer¡¯s Tear] to let it join the other one. A [Greed] and [Self-Serving] pop-up confirmed the action.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Synchronization: 85%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I had no real idea how to get out of here. Requiem and my autopilot had made it through part of the dungeon. The giant face wasn¡¯t about to answer me judging by its frown. My health was too low for much more of this.

    There was a torch on the wall. Wings stuttered and tried to fly up. I made it by pulling myself up with chubby arms and weak flaps. It took me nearly ten minutes to get a spark going from rocks in the cave and using the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in a sort of file shape. I was lucky this torch was intended to be lit. Game mechanics and practice camping with Shazam on the mountain helped.

    The dying torch light triggered my [Flame Regeneration] skills. Warmth washed over me chasing away the chill of reliving my neck pain. It also woke up the wall with a vague groan. A remaining eye rolled slightly to look at me.

    ¡°Really?¡± I Looked at the giant half a face wall.

    ¡°Unnnh.¡± It groaned at me. My undead mud wall to English skill didn¡¯t help decipher that. The eye shut and what existed as a mouth went slack.

    At least now I could fly off this stupid green circle. I jabbed the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into the ground to try and muss it up. The circle flashed and reconstructed moments after my attempt. The effort gained me a few more percent points on the bar.

    I wanted to log out but my poor little [Red Imp] self was still lost in the dungeon. There was a quest marker that pointed to Requiem Mass, but it was far away now. My autopilot could probably handle a few of the smaller creatures, but this dungeon must contain at least one more boss monster. Hopefully being on vaguely peaceful terms with Frankenstein would prevent any other boss level creatures from attacking me.

    There was no way I could handle one of those myself. Not with my current body and skills. Even Hermes would be hard pressed to survive. He had a lot more [Brawn] and [Endurance] after all those weeks on the mountain training with Shazam.

    Then there was this stupid summoned status that refused to shake itself off. I had been given a brief glimpse of Hermes'' side of the world during the unbound spell process. My main body or character seemed to be sitting on the hill over a huge castle. There were at least two armies clashing below. I tried to remember the timing. That must have been the war my niece and that man Arnold had talked about.

    So as a result my goals were clear. Stab Requiem in the back to get this quest completed. Get back to my Hermes body and help out in the war to keep my niece alive. I may be an old man who would only get in her way, but that didn¡¯t mean I would let anything bad happen.

    Step one. Find a tunnel that went up. Step two, stab Requiem Mass now that I was no longer restricted by the summoning ritual. Step three, free Xin. With three simple steps, everything would work out. It had to.

    The tunnels up were amazingly peaceful. All the undead creatures that had plagued us on the way down were gone. Not one mole or set of roots popped into being. Each twist and turn kept me jumping waiting for something to scare me. My path stayed clear. Frankenstein must have recalled everything he had to fight against Requiem. I wasn''t sure how much I liked the older Traveler. He could have easily killed me but didn''t, so that said something.

    I used [Blink] as often as possible to speed up the traveling time. Wings only went so fast despite all my practice. It was easily hours of high-speed movement before I made it to the exit, winded, but alive. Finally, I got out to the top and found a hastily erected camp.

    ¡°Whatis this?¡± I shouted in confusion.

    Requiem''s jar of goop that he had been cradling for days was sitting there almost completely empty. I looked inside and saw signs of scrape marks against the sides. He had clearly dipped something in this.

    I stabbed at it with the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. A small box popped up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Notice!

    Enchantment material found. Applying enough of this to an item will cause it to take on a new property.

    Grade: High Quality

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Well. That was neat. I focused and tried to curve the edge of my weapon a bit. The [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] ended up looking like an exaggerated butter knife. Soon I had scooped out what little remained and slathered it on my one item.

    Enchanting the loincloth seemed questionable. I would fill up the bowl with water and bathe in it if that might help my own stats. Anything to get an edge over Requiem. There was no telling what bonuses he might have gained.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Enchantment received!

    [Recall] added.

    This skill allows you to concentrate upon a [Bound] item and teleport it to your side. This skill will reduce the item''s durability.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    Items with low durability will do less damage or prevent less harm. Please take care of your items to ensure maximum efficiency.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Neat. Requiem might have gained the same ability. He might have gained increased damage or any other number of things. I took to the air and made my way towards Requiem Mass. It might take a while, I might only have one life left, but me and the young man would meet again soon.

    I may be tiny and have a low health bar, but no longer was I bound by his rules.

 Session Thirty Seven - Baby Donâ€™t Hurt Me

    <cite></cite>Traveling was a lot easier out here in the open. There was so much free room. A landscape of undead and rotting creatures didn¡¯t seem to lend itself to flying beings. I took advantage of my vertical freedom to skip the drawbridge and track down the two players.

    Requiem had plowed through a river of undead creatures. He moved quickly from one monster to the next while hacking away. Bits of monsters hung all over the castle drawbridge. At least seven different rats were floating belly up in the moat.

    They were easy enough to find. I just had to follow the trail of dead bodies and girly shouting. Frankenstein was screaming in horror. Every few seconds the goofy Traveler would use that burst of speed to wiggle from one location to another. Requiem and his stupid blue glowing body was always close by, pressuring him.

    I watched them dashing down one of the castle corridors. Stain glass windows were between us. Using [Blink] to get through would be easy enough if there was a good opening. Part of me hoped that Requiem would get back into a corner and I could pop in behind him.

    My mind ran through the possible methods. Using an [Unexpected Strike] would cause a ton of extra damage. The moment I attacked Requiem would know my position. I opted to keep watching the other two whittle away at each other.

    Frankenstein kept sending half rotted animals after Requiem Mass. Giant monster rats tried to gnaw on his face. Monkeys of questionable bowel control gibbered and clawed. Moles in the courtyard threw mud piles. We had been fighting the Traveler¡¯s minions this entire time and I hadn¡¯t known.

    This goop on my [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] might come in use. I wasn¡¯t sure how the game justified having a weapon that could change shape and be thrown. Maybe I was so terrible that the Voice of Balance said ¡®whatever¡¯. Part of me felt happy each time my character learned something new.

    Now was a good time to practice. Requiem was running along a causeway after Frankenstein. I put the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into spear form and got ready to lob it. If I stayed at a distance he might not notice my weapon among all the other chaos. The attempt missed wildly by clattering into the courtyard below.

    ¡°Ahh! Nononnodamnno!¡± I tried to say it quietly, but my voice carried. Requiem didn¡¯t seem to notice thankfully. Building a new skill from scratch on a [Red Imp] would take far too long.

    Both eyes closed and I tried to visualize the weapon coming back to my hand. Triggering new skills was always a pain in the neck. [Blink] took around seventy different attempts to be able to aim regularly. Thank goodness being down in that pit of a dungeon gave me plenty of time.

    ¡°Get away! You¡¯re ruining everything!¡± Frankenstein shouted loud enough to be heard over the groans of undead monsters.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a little pain! Come on!¡± Requiem Mass and his silly blue aura dodged around one torn up rat and slashed at a mole. ¡°You¡¯ll hardly notice!¡±

    There wasn¡¯t enough time for seventy attempts on weapon [Recall]ing. Not when one successful usage took ten seconds of idle behavior. Plus each [Recall] ground down the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and its durability. The spear was back in my hand and looked to be at seventy-five percent or so from one use. I checked out the [Regeneration] progress while both Travelers chased each other around.

    One minute of the Travelers trying to kill each other equaled about five percent on my weapon. That was not enough for repeated attempts. In Requiem¡¯s world that was a dead rat monster and heavily wounded mini bear. The ursine bundle of undead-themed nonsense had tiny round ears and a slashed face.

    ¡°No! Lilly!¡± Frankenstein ran to grab one of the bear¡¯s fluffy ears that had disconnected. He cradled it while sniffling.

    ¡°You named a bear Lilly?¡± Requiem actually paused the destructive rampage to stare at Frankenstein.

    ¡°Yes! She¡¯s cute and you¡¯re ruining her!¡± Frankenstein¡¯s body vanished and dark red wisps of energy coalesced in a new location. He grabbed another piece of the bear named Lilly. The dive brought him amazingly close to Requiem¡¯s stabbing blade. ¡°Ahh! I¡¯ll get you for this!¡±

    ¡°Not at this rate.¡± Requiem was smiling. I tried to keep out of the main picture in case a [Red Imp] flying up above would be too obvious. Stealth was not one of my character¡¯s skills, still. If I ever had to do this again I would ask the Voices for someone sneaky.

    ¡°Shut up!¡± The goofy Traveler yelled. He sounded near sniffles. Something flashed like a camera going off. The bright moment caused Frankenstein to shudder. His clothes seemed made of smoke much like Jean¡¯s had.

    ¡°Really? You¡¯re like forty and telling people to shut up?¡± Requiem said.

    I took advantage of the distraction to throw another spear at the back of Requiem¡¯s head. My wings faltered for a moment causing the shot to go wild. It landed on one of the mole creatures that was mostly incapacitated. A small box displayed minor gains.

    ¡°Shut up!¡± Frankenstein was far too emotional about a bunch of mindless leftovers. These undead things were all gross. ¡°You¡¯re a jerk!¡±

    Requiem swung a blade down and chopped at another undead rat. There were too many of the things bounding along the castle grounds even with all the destruction. More were scaling up the walls with monkeys riding their backs.

    ¡°This is why we can¡¯t work together. You¡¯re like a child.¡± Frankenstein grabbed another bit of some monster¡¯s body and clutched it to his chest. Lilly, the mini bear, growled and charged at her enemy.

    ¡°Really? This from the man who is sad his teddy bear is falling apart? Or how about the fact that you betrayed me and refused to give me your piece?¡± The younger Traveler emphasized his disgust by sidestepping Lilly and pushing her over a rampart''s edge.

    ¡°We could have completed it together, you unstable little brat!¡± Frankenstein tried to dodge off again. His clothes were a mess.

    ¡°Why would I work with you?¡± The younger one asked. His cheek kept twitching every time Frankenstein spoke.

    ¡°Because we could have been done!¡± Frankenstein whined.

    Requiem snarled and dove for Frankenstein¡¯s body. He tossed all the body parts and did that squiggly energy running. The eyeball pendant around my former master''s neck flashed brightly and energy went everywhere. It was like the red foggy abilities abandoned Frankenstein in fear.

    Was that the point of Requiem¡¯s necklace? Had we gone down there to get him a piece of equipment that would counter Frankenstein¡¯s squiggle things? Part of me felt terrible for helping make myself obsolete, but I should have expected it. The one day I chose to ignore my ¡®kill Requiem mission¡¯ and all good intentions backfired. At least my [Red Imp] self was now a free agent. With one life to risk it all.

    The players kept up their endless fighting down a stairwell. Both were well below half health according to [Identification] results.

    ¡°Stay back! I¡¯m warning you!¡± Frankenstein had backed into the castle''s inner courtyard.

    ¡°Or what?¡± Requiem stalked closer. His body gave off the deeper blue hue while one sword trailed ash. The lighting made his face look twisted, especially on someone who sounded so young.

    From above it was clear that Frankenstein was not at all happy. The man turned and started shouting to one of the archways. ¡°Cliffy! Here boy! Come to papa!¡±

    ¡°More undead fodder?¡± Requiem sounded disgusted.

    ¡°No! This one is special.¡± Frankenstein gave one of the best evil villain laughs I had ever heard. My [Red Imp] body joined in out of some diabolical gene buried in this racial code.

    An absolutely giant rotting dog slowly padded in from one of the doors leading outside. I had never seen this huge creature before in any session as the [Red Imp]. It was enough to make me whistle slowly. Plus he named it Cliffy, how neat was that?

    ¡°I¡¯ll get you yet, and your little dog too,¡± Requiem said. There wasn¡¯t a trace of humor in his words. I, however, was nearly bursting and trying not to laugh.

    ¡°Sick ¡®em, boy!¡± Frankenstein said.

    The dog didn¡¯t move right. It bounded on three good legs and one that was terribly broken. PoserMan and his wingtip coat adopted a strange pose. He pressed both hands together and crossed his legs on the ground. Out of his body shot another round of red energy linking between him and Cliffy.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Requiem tilted his head and swung both swords again.

    I was asking myself the same thing. If my teenage years of video games were any hint, Frankenstein was channeling power into the Cliffy. There were no clear indications of other player''s buffs most of the time. Continue Online happily told me what I had going on, but other people were a mystery.

    After five seconds, the dog was larger. After ten seconds, it was faster. Requiem couldn¡¯t sit around letting Frankenstein continue to charge up the creature. I could at least see mana dropping down on Frankenstein¡¯s bar. He changed his pose a bit more and the blue bar leveled off.

    Requiem once again tried to charge towards his nemesis. The big undead dog, Cliffy, got in the way and snapped uneven teeth at his face. I cheered from up above as young Traveler lost health points. He pulled back away from the beast and switched out his swords.

    Frankenstein was humming as part of his strange pose. Requiem dodged again and managed to get away from the dog¡¯s repeated lunges. It would take me too much practice in order to avoid those kind of repeated attacks, even with [Blink].

    Maybe. I did have lots of experience with Requiem.

    If I knew him, he would be throwing materials up into the air. There, he was tossing up those short blades in an arc. I flew over to catch them. That brief bit of practice with Shazam, catching cards out of the air, helped. This was more of the same.

    I managed to grab six and redirected them over Requiem¡¯s head below. Seeing small [Unexpected Strike] windows pop up for minimal damage gave me pleasure. It was enough to put a dent in the Traveler¡¯s health bar. I used [Blink] to hide quickly before he looked up.

    ¡°Roarrrrr!¡± Cliffy tried to give a ferocious growl, but it failed due to half a jaw being in shambles. Some of the projectiles that I missed struck Frankenstein as well. My help was keeping things vaguely even.

    ¡°What?¡± Requiem got confused. He pulled out one of his swords from the hammerspace that Travelers used. Then he tossed up more blades with his free hand like basketballs.

    I blinked out and grabbed the newest projectiles quickly. There wasn¡¯t enough time to risk dropping them on Requiem¡¯s head. They were put to good use as throwing practice from the side instead of letting gravity take control completely.

    ¡°What is going on?¡± My former master demanded.

    Frankenstein hummed while his giant, rotting dog swung again. The two danced back and forth all over the courtyard. Cliffy would swing a giant paw and do more damage to the surrounding mortar than anything else.

    Requiem elevated his aura up to the next level. He shouted, which made the young mans hair stand on end. The last time he used these abilities Requiem could move faster and hit harder. Eventually, it built up to the black hole ability then fatigue.

    I hoped that Frankenstein would be able to push him far enough. If Requiem wasted that ability I could clean up after them. With heightened speed, Cliffy and his red energy bonuses were still losing ground. Soon the creature was down another leg and couldn¡¯t intercept the enemy Traveler anymore.

    I ¡®oopsed¡¯ another rock into the side of Requiem¡¯s head. Blades captured from Requiems¡¯ earlier attack were kicked off the edge. Next, bits of dead moles were slid off the side to hopefully make it seem like the place was falling apart. Cliffy¡¯s onslaught against the walls might have knocked things loose up above.

    The dog was falling apart under Requiem¡¯s assault. It charged in what had to be a suicide run.

    ¡°Go!¡± I shouted.

    Requiem twitched and tried to use a screen of smoke. [Darkvision] saw right through it and showed the Traveler trying to dodge. The giant undead creature didn¡¯t care in the slightest and curved to intercept.

    The younger Traveler in his leather gear turned the blade and swung. It curved into the creature''s neck as a giant head descended. From my angle, the dog¡¯s mouth had opened wide and half swallowed Requiem. I started, feeling hopeful for the first time in days. Had the undead beast finished off my enemy?

    First the dog¡¯s working front leg lost traction. The hind one soon followed. They ragdolled outwards as if there were no functional muscles left. I raised a tiny hand to my mouth and tried to understand why the big head stayed up in the air.

    ¡°Well, that was useless.¡± The younger Traveler sounded muffled and strained. The dog¡¯s jaw was trying to close but failing. Requiem turned his sword even more and detached the last few strands connecting its body.

    Then the heavy head was heaved from Requiem over to one side. His blue aura flickered like a lightbulb stuttering. Requiem shuddered then kicked one leg, shaking off the goo. The red energy connection between the dog and Frankenstein shattered as the head fell to the side.

    ¡°Darnit!¡± I muttered. That would have been a perfect chance to [Blink] down and stab him. Sadly I had been lost in the fight. A few months of playing this game was not enough to completely break years of listlessness.

    ¡°Pathetic. I was never afraid of these minions of yours.¡± Requiem cracked his neck and rolled both shoulders. Undead body chunks were littered across his gear and hair.

    ¡°But. But. But.¡± Frankenstein looked pitiful next to the other player. It was strange to see a man who seemed to adore his minions become reduced to this. His clothes were still pristine despite the battle.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°Anything else?¡± Requiem slid his blade on the dog¡¯s back and cleaned it off. The biggest chunks of the beast fell off. I took stock of how my ex-master was doing.

    Neither one had much health. Their fourth of a health bar was still slightly more than my full one. Voices, I would love to have my Hermes body with some of these skills. Then I could just [Blink] down and swing the real [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into his face over and over.

    ¡°No, then? Very well. Here¡¯s the ultimatum, give me your piece of the key, forfeit the quest. That or I¡¯ll kill you and take it. Either way, I win.¡± The younger Traveler pointed a smoking sword towards Frankenstein. Ash dripped down and scattered as it hit his clothes.

    ¡°No, I can¡¯t, I can¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°I know your weakness, Freakinstain. I know why you always stick around this forsaken castle instead of in Othello.¡± Requiem said. I perked up and tried to figure out what he was talking about.

    ¡°What? I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Frankenstein may be able to act the fool, but he was also a terrible liar. Even back in the room with that giant face it was pretty clear that Frankenstein had no clue how to talk to people. He might also be a touch crazy. The jury was still out on that one.

    The giant undead dog lifted its head weakly and tried to growl. Severed tendons looked gruesome. Cliffy¡¯s head moved independently of his body. Both halves bent muscles which no longer connected in order to bite at Requiem.

    ¡°Under here is where the shrine is, isn¡¯t it? The one to the Voice of Blood.¡± Requiem stomped one foot on the ground. Small vibrations shook the remains of mortar and bodies.

    ¡°Nooo. No, there¡¯s no shrine. Nothing of the sort.¡± Frankenstein scrambled backward, kicking with his feet.

    ¡°See I think there is. And I¡¯m going to kill you, break that shrine into tiny pieces, and sell them to anyone who wants a piece of the action.¡± The young man¡¯s words served to set off Frankenstein.

    ¡°Seriously? You¡¯re taking this whole game way too far.¡± Frankenstein¡¯s tone changed a little. He sounded almost disappointed while standing up.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be good gold. I¡¯m sure there are a lot of people on the black market who would pay for a statue of her.¡± Requiem smiled and took a step back. The two sized each other up, one with a smile of happiness, the other with disgust.

    There probably were. Jean was a fairly good looking woman, for an untouchable Voice who was already claimed by a wall of muscle. Though I imagine a statue of Vlad would stomp through and recover Jean¡¯s.

    ¡°No! I won¡¯t let you do that to her!¡± Frankenstein said. I couldn¡¯t tell which part of him was acting anymore.

    ¡°Jean probably wouldn¡¯t like it either,¡± I muttered. They were close now. Something was about to happen and I wanted to be able to get in there.

    ¡°Ahhh!¡± Frankenstein roared out and that red squiggly energy poured in from all over the castle. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, brat!¡±

    ¡°Why is it all you adults think you¡¯re so tough?¡± Requiem said calmly. He started chanting.

    I shuddered. He would do his chant and pop that black hole. Then it would be my time to move. All the other opportunities wouldn¡¯t stack up compared to my plan.

    ¡°I call upon the power that overcomes all!¡± Requiem shouted. I had enough time mentally barf. [Lithium] was a terrible language to understand.

    Frankenstein kept roaring like something out a of cartoon gone wrong. Bodies from all over the castle collapsed. Red swirls of energy like the ones he used to travel and escape slithered from all over the castle.

    ¡°Ghost of a dead sun! Shadow of a singularity! Draw all into your grasp! Let nothing escape!¡± Requiem pulled out his sword.

    I watched as the blue aura about him brightened and seemed to reach a sky blue peak. Once again it compressed. First to his arms, then hands, and finally up the sword. His weapon shone like a small blue sun.

    ¡°I¡¯ll never let you take her!¡± Frankenstein sounded grotesque. Whatever he had done seemed to pump his body up to an incredible size. His body seemed to have cracks where bright red glowed through. His clothes somehow adjusted to fit his new swollen size. A red hulk with a frilly neckpiece and coattails was just wrong.

    Would calling out to Frankenstein be of any use? I could warn him that Requiem was about to suck his face into a black hole. In the time it took me to figure out what was best, Frankenstein charged.

    I bit my nails and worried. Requiem dove in with his one blade. Frankenstein actually whipped to one side and dodged. The super move dot of doom stayed on the sword. They bashed around a few more times. Each pass making Requiem look more annoyed.

    ¡°Enough!¡± Requiem shouted and yanked off the necklace. He threw it down onto the ground with his free hand.

    Before the small eyeball necklace had only given single flashes. Enough to stun Frankenstein each time he tried to escape using the red energy. This time the world went white. There was no sound other than the scream of both Travelers¡¯ yelling.

    [Darkvision] didn¡¯t seem to care. It cleared in time to see Requiem drive his blade into the air before Frankenstein. Blue hung on the blade''s tip like a waterdrop rolling off. The Traveler who had been my former master hopped back and prepared to lean against the pulse of gravity. This was my chance.

    ¡°Letthestabbingshappen!¡± I shouted.

    I used two [Blink]s quickly to get behind Requiem. One end of my weapon was planted into the ground as a prop. My strength wasn¡¯t enough to do this on my own. The [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] quickly extended in time with a black hole¡¯s pulse.

    As force slammed him back the tip of my weapon slid through his armor. I watched in happiness as system messages popped up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

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    <td>

    <span class=''center''>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Defender failed awareness check, dodge check, reaction check: [Unexpected Strike] Adds 150% Damage</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Weapon Braced, damage added</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Pressure on defender, damage added</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Attacking weapon exceeds remaining armor value</li>

    </ul>

    </div>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Requiem¡¯s bar hit bottom. All of it, all the way down to zero. He had enough left to turn his head in broken confusion and glare at me. I gave a wide smile that had to show all my teeth while waiting out the last of his black hole ability.

    Part of me felt guilty for sitting on the sidelines this entire time. Being a frail [Red Imp] meant that there was no good method to solo Requiem. This had been the chance I waited for.

    Frankenstein¡¯s health bar had also hit zero. Despite my warning of the black hole move, he didn¡¯t take anything to heart. The issue of losing Jean¡¯s statue had turned him inside out with rage. Most of an arm and the side of Frankenstein¡¯s face vanished into the depths of Requiem¡¯s attack. Everything about us had dragged across the landscape because of the pressure extended by a super move.

    It was just me. The entire castle with all these bits and pieces of dead monsters was lifeless. This was a landscape of strange goodies and possible loot items that any other Traveler would be proud of. Both Travelers had been removed from competition and it was just me.

    I also felt rather sick. It was one thing to try and kill someone, but another to actually do it. What had started with two humans in a forest months ago, now ended with me literally stabbing a man in the back. That was when I found out it was possible to feel both repulsed and elated at the same time.

    Slowly I flew over to Frankenstein to check his body. The Traveler had faded away once his health bar had been brought to zero. Nearby there was a clearly glowing object. I lifted it up for an [Inspection].

    There, this was the object that these two had been fighting over. There should be a second one over on Requiem¡¯s body. Maybe I could put these two pieces together and complete the quest myself.

    I turned to find Requiem¡¯s half and be done with this whole bit of nonsense. Being a [Red Imp] was neat in some ways but it was way past time to move on. Everything would be done soon and Xin would be safe.

    ¡°What? Wheredid hego?¡± I asked. Requiem¡¯s body was not still impaled upon the tip of my weapon. The [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] happily sat there digging into the ground.

    ¡°You.¡± A voice shaking with rage came from nearby.

    ¡°OhVoices, now what?¡± I managed to get part of a shout out before everything ended in an abrupt squeak.

    ¡°You!¡± I shouted. How on earth was the twerp still alive? It was completely impossible. ¡°You died! I sawyou die!¡±

    ¡°Give, me, that, now.¡± Requiem was shaking with anger. I had never seen him so upset. His eyes were practically dark, bottomless pits of anger.

    He threw me to the ground and a dazed message popped up on my screen. I tried to focus the [Blink] ability but failures popped up repeatedly due to the confusion. Requiem reached down and yanked the quest piece out of my hand.

    My vision was doubled up. The [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was too far away. I tried to focus on activating any ability.

    ¡°And as for you,¡± Requiem said squeezing my neck. The [Red Imp] body had tiny hands. They made no dent against the bigger teen¡¯s grip. ¡°Did you think I didn¡¯t know you were still around?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s the stupid one now?¡± He slapped me again. ¡°Throwing objects? Thinking you¡¯re sneaky?¡±

    ¡°What isgoing on?¡± I had believed my meager [Red Imp] form was a low enough profile amid all the chaos going on down here.

    ¡°Thinking I wouldn¡¯t have something prepared in case you dared to show up?¡± Requiem completed ignored my high-speed protests. ¡°You can¡¯t really kill me.¡±

    ¡°Howdidyou!¡± Then I saw it, the glint on his finger. That ring looked almost exactly like the one I had received for a glitch. Now everything made sense. Requiem had a copy of [Howard¡¯s Phylactery].

    I tried to remember exactly how that item worked. My one read through had implied it stored health for a rainy day. That means Requiem either found his own during the course of gameplay or stumbled across a glitch in the world.

    ¡°No, Nonono why doyou! No! Youfound one!¡± I rambled off a wall of words in panic. Killing him once had been hard enough. There was no more black hole super move. First I had to get away. I tried to focus to trigger [Blink].

    Requiem shook me violently. ¡°None of that now.¡±

    ¡°Dammit! Ihateyou!¡±

    ¡°The feeling''s mutual.¡± He lifted his blade up and got ready to stab it down.

    I quickly focused my attention on the [Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. A spear popped into my hand almost instantly. There was not enough durability and time to do more than stab at him. My tail curled then jabbed into Requiem¡¯s leg. I turned to his foot and sunk my teeth into a toe. My small arms drove the weapon forward without deliberate aim.

    He stumbled and backed off with a snarl. I immediately popped blink and came in behind him. My [Red Imp] body had sharp teeth which latched onto his neck and tore. We flailed around the room as he banged into one object after another. I hung on and tried to imagine my tail stabbing into him over and over. Hopefully the ARC would pick it up.

    We crashed into a third wall and another dazed message popped up. I had enough time to look up. Requiem twisted his ash blade and slashed downward.

    I put the [Echo of MOrrigu¡¯s Gift] up to defend but it had no durability. My strength wasn¡¯t enough. The health bar of my [Red Imp] character shattered.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Summon status being released

    Contract released

    Resurrection not possible

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A blast of sensation crossed my face. Rapidly behind it was a sinking chill. The world went crazy with color. Pulses of energy flew by distorting Requiem¡¯s face. He looked pained, but the health bar above showed a sliver of life left. I couldn¡¯t feel my hands or legs. The odd sensation of having a tail and wings vanished as well.

    Above all that was a sense of foreboding. The world snapped into view. The landscape was amazingly bright compared to the dull landscape of Requiem¡¯s portion of the game.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Desperate Summons</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Difficulty:</td>

    <td colspan="3">High</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td>Status:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Failed</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There was an entire wall of pop-up items displaying. None of them mattered but the one. A box that spelled an end to all my efforts. There was noise coming from all around me. People were shouting and it sounded like a war. Name tags floated above people attacking each other.

    It took a moment to register. Like avoiding the realization would prevent anything from going wrong. I mentally tried to back up, to reload from a save point in life so that everything could be wished away.

    My eyes were glue to the quest notice. A clear sign of my failure. Last time I had been unaware of her passing until hours later. There had been no one to blame. This time, it was all my fault. I could have saved Xin, but failed. Everything went white and I screamed.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Thirty Eight â€“ Insane Reality

    <cite></cite>The screaming didn¡¯t help. Facing consequences from my half-hearted efforts had me so upset that the ARC actually started losing connection. A small message to one side advised me of stability warnings.

    Shazam stood nearby. Her hands wiggled with a thumb up, one down, and the ¡®which¡¯ motion. I felt dizzy and she was moving too fast for my brain. My head hurt and heart felt heavy.

    ¡°Terrible. Terrible. It¡¯s all wrong.¡± I muttered.

    The admission actually made Shazam raise an eyebrow. I put up my hand to forestall any more questions. There was too much going on for me to handle explaining it to her on top of everything else.

    I wrote a note to James and chewed my lip. ¡®How can I fix this?¡¯. The question should be right up his alley. I closed my eyes and counted, tried to remember dance steps, hummed, anything to distract myself from the recent clear failure. It felt like sitting in the van again waiting to identify Xin¡¯s body. To be confronted with reality.

    No. This was a game. Xin was dead. Yet, this was like holding on to her memories. Whatever. There was no sane way to justify myself to another human being. Any reasoning used would be the result of half desperate madness.

    It was hard to decide if I was angry at the Voices for holding Xin¡¯s recreation and memories over my head. Maybe it was self-loathing for failing. Or frustration at Requiem for being so god damned self-centered that he needed to bone everyone over to make a few dollars in the real world.

    Heat fed back through my ARC letting me know about an incoming message. I jerked the tube¡¯s lid off and ripped the page a bit while trembling. The note was short and came with a projection of James¡¯ face.

    <table>

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    <td>

    Hermes,

    I do not have an answer right now. Deliver your remaining messages if you are able. I will discuss with the others what options remain.

    -James

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Deliver the letters. Okay. I would hand them over personally if that¡¯s what it took. If it helped Xin these scrolls would become suppositories for some poor soul. There were two still outstanding. Shazam and my autopilot must have taken care of the others.

    My hand shook as player inventory was accessed. Two items still displayed with burning borders on the interface. I pulled them out both and let the Continue Online world provide me with a quest beacon.

    Both were nearly in the same place. This might be possible. I would deliver the messages quickly. There was a battlefield between me and there. Most people were divided into two groups with scattered people in between.

    ¡°Goodness.¡± I really looked at the war in front of me for the first time. The scene was madness incarnate. There was a castle on one side that was clearly under siege.

    Shazam plopped down nearby. I turned away from a field of people yelling to look at her.

    ¡°I need to get in there.¡± I pointed at the castle. My quest markers had clearly bobbed up and down over there. Katelyn and Cathryn were the intended recipients.

    She nodded then shrugged.

    ¡°Are you going to help?¡± There were at least six creatures that looked like giants. From here only a few of them were obviously players similar to me. One had a pack of dogs swarming along a flank of the enemy attackers. Spell effects went off as enemy mages cast bolts at each other.

    Her head shook back and forth in a negative. One finger pointed towards me.

    ¡°My problem, huh?¡± I tried not to be angry with her. Shazam had already done a ton for me as a player and my autopilot. There were a lot of little skill ups that had been gathered during my time as a [Red Imp]. Too many in fact, I was still trying flick away a sea of plus ones and minor rank increases.

    Shazam nodded.

    ¡°Did the Voices tell you that?¡± I asked while popping away something about [Wilderness Survival] increasing.

    She nodded again.

    Great. I had failed to deliver on my second real quest with them. Finding another way through the problem had to be accomplished on my own. My weapon skills showed minor increases. [Blade Dancer] went up along with [Actor].

    ¡°Any suggestions?¡± I tried not to feel upset at gaining all these stupid [Actor] ranks for being a [Red Imp]. It felt like getting rewarded for failure. Or grade school all over again where the teacher very happily said ¡®nice try¡¯.

    Shazam stood up and pantomimed swinging a bat. Armor jingled as her shoulders got into the motion.

    ¡°Go down swinging?¡± I looked away from my battle with the system messages to focus on her.

    She shook her head again. Then one arced arm pointed far into the distance.

    ¡°Swing for the fences?¡±

    She nodded and plopped back down again. All I had to do was deliver these messages and the Voices might provide me more information. Fine, I could do that. There was precious hope.

    Dusk was conked out nearby. It was hard to tell why he was so exhausted. The little guy probably terrorized all the small creatures around here for days and decided to take a nap. Maybe he was in a depressive funk. I lifted him gently and handed the small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] over to Shazam.

    ¡°Can you watch him for me? I, I¡¯m not sure what will happen to him down there.¡± I asked.

    Shazam nodded then shrugged. Her hand lifted and pointed downward a few times. It was hard to see the gesture passed these last few messages that had piled up.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll clear these on the way. Maybe there¡¯s something useful.¡± I held little hope that anything neat had happened.

    Her answering thumb up was the only encouragement I got on the way down the hill.

    I muttered about each silly message. There were bonuses to [Brawn] and [Coordination] among other things. Something in here mentioned a new skill being created called [Rage]. It was an apt response to my anger, but something about it felt decidedly high school drama.

    That message went away as I neared the end of my pile. The last three made me stop in my descent and stare at the screen.

    <table>

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    <td>

    Ultimate Edition User Grant Legate,

    It has been brought to the attention of our Problem Resolution Program that your character was somehow bugged or impacted by a systemic error.

    Error noticed: Bi-Location

    This error may have caused issues when attempting to log on to the world of Continue.

    Since your autopilot was still in effect in both locations we have merged the [Bound] items stored therein. Certain traits and skills have also been migrated over to your primary character.

    This error should not happen again. Thank you for your continued support of Trillium International and the world of Continue Online.

    Note: This message is automated. Any responses will not be addressed.

    - Trillium Problem Resolution Program

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    What in the name of all the Voices was this about? Was this their clever way of rewarding me for trying to play the [Red Imp]? My tube heated up and another message popped in from the Voices.

    Momentarily the issue of Xin was set aside. I pulled out the message and read what it had to say.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    HERMES!

    ACT NOW!

    Ignore him, Hermes. He¡¯s just a little wound up if you know what I mean.

    AWWW YEAH!

    Anyway, we¡¯ve settled on a reward for you earlier suggestion.

    I¡¯M ONLY WEARING A BOW TIE RIGHT NOW!

    So I and Vlad worked within the tools allowed to us, to give you a little slice of your Spite character. I think he¡¯s kind of cute too. I may find other uses for him later, but since you¡¯ve lost control, he¡¯s all mine now.

    ENJOY!

    - Jean, and Vlad

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Goodness,¡± I muttered. As with any message from the Voices, I actually got a projection of them talking. Vlad''s was an image of him from the shoulders up. His arms were bound up high. Not to mention his words boomed and his pectorals flexed despite being strung up.

    Jean wore those smoky clothes and waved her index finger at the other face. There was a bead of sweat on her forehead from who knows what. I felt kind of embarrassed just reading the message.

    She could have Spite, or whatever the [Red Imp] was. As long as we stayed well away from each other it would be okay. Honestly, meeting my other character might be too weird. Or it might be kind of comical. Hermes versus Spite!

    I shook off the momentary amusement and looked at the newest boxes that popped up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Transferred:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Blink] Skill</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Awareness Heightening] Skill</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Echo of Morrigu¡¯s Gift], renamed [Morrigu¡¯s Echo]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Seer¡¯s Tear] [Left] & [Seer¡¯s Tear] [Right] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My jaw dropped. For a moment all thoughts of Xin and delivering the messages fell sideways out of my mind. The [Red Imp] hadn¡¯t possessed much at all, but this was it. There was a faint sound as the game plopped items into my inventory.

    I had no clue how to utilize two weapons for much of anything. Maybe Shazam could offer me pointers. For now the second weapon, now titled [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] stayed in the virtual hammer space.

    The two [Seer¡¯s Tear]s were pulled out and looked at. These were certainly worth looking into. Having them might help me get this delivery quest done. If nothing else having [Blink] would make life amazingly easy. Though now I couldn¡¯t fly so that would be dangerous too.

    Their puzzle was simple. Bringing them together produced a slight glow. Pulling them apart dimmed both halves. I tried not to think about the fact that these objects had been inside a [Red Imp]''s digestive tract along with all the other terrible food Requiem fed me.

    Both the [Seer¡¯s Tear]s and their combined form melted in my hand. A warm tingle rippled through my body and arm. Vision blurred for a moment then something displayed.

    I read the latest pop-up box in my wall of text. The window started out saying something simple like the message box had with [Howard¡¯s Ring] it shifted to something else. In my mind, this was another cue of the Voices interfering or my status of being an [NPC Conspiracy] owner. It might also have to do with the old [Legacy Wish] that had come down from William Carver.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Gainted Received:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Sight of Mercari]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rarity: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Rare (Variant)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Initial rank of [Sight of Mercari] allows the Traveler to see all sentient beings around them. This change in perception can be disorienting. As proficiency increases the skill will rank up allowing additional details to be received.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The variant aspect made no sense, but it sounded like the game was giving me a miniature map interface somehow. I tried to focus on activating it to see if using it now would be worthwhile.

    Everything swam. It was like the teleportation to my former [Red Imp] body only part of my eyesight seemed to peel away. There were almost two images coming in. One was the battlefield below where two armies were moving about. The other was, I don¡¯t know, something with dots.

    Both were trying to line up somehow in my mind and it disoriented me. Goodness. Activating [Sight of Mercari] gave me a headache. A battle zone couldn¡¯t be the best place for practicing that. [Blink] at least had tons of uses.

    For a moment, I wondered if the [Seer¡¯s Tear] combination would have provided Requiem the same ability. It seemed more likely that the Voices were warping the original result somehow to match up with my [Messenger of the Voices] title. Part of me did not enjoy being a special little snowflake in this world because it was way out of scope.

    I stared at the people below and tried to figure out how to best get through. One shoulder rolled, then the other. I stretched my legs a bit more and got ready to run. In real life, I was a slightly overweight middle aged man who looked more comfortable on a couch.

    In Continue Online, I had spent tons of time traveling around and being tortured by Shazam. It was time to put all those skill ups to good use and see what happened.

    I started running.

    The ARC feedback was incredible as always. I felt the sensation of rushing through the air. It was more intense and natural than being in the [Red Imp] body. I had missed being me in this game and not someone else.

    Below me, people shouted orders and pieces of armies clashed. Most people were standard foot soldiers. They were each outfitted a little differently, but there were clear colors and insignias themed throughout.

    There was a pack of four wolves busy chasing down stragglers with low health bars. Two giants at least sixty feet high were striding through the army swinging clubs that might have been freshly uprooted. Casters much like TinkerHell tossed spell after spell into any groups that started bunching up. Lights clouded the plain below in greens, reds, blues and whites.

    One of the healers, at least I assumed they healed based on the pure looking nimbus around her, crumbled from a sneak attack. There was a vaguely familiar looking person stabbing twin daggers into the person''s back.

    I tried to take it all in while moving quickly. There had to be a path of least resistance. If I skirted the side, the biggest risk would be one of the wandering giants. No, maybe they could be used as a vantage point.

    That was the way I went. There wasn¡¯t much time to dawdle and every second passing felt like one more where I was failing Xin. Plus there was something about letting loose that just felt really neat. Flashbacks of some of the new players running wild on a beach in [Haven¡¯s Valley] flickered through my mind.

    ¡°Hey!¡± A castle defender shouted. Both the castle and this guy¡¯s clothes were the same color.

    ¡°He¡¯s alone, get him!¡± The second person shouted.

    They moved to intercept me. I didn¡¯t even waste time and applied [Blink] liberally to get by. One cast drained nearly five percent of my mana bar. The small fact that so little energy was used pleased me. Not only had skill ups made it easier, but Hermes as a character had way more mana than the [Red Imp].

    ¡°How?!¡± One of the former defenders shouted from behind me. I kept running and looked up towards my next destination.

    I leapt and used [Blink] again. There was a two-second delay where I hung in the air before another [Blink] could be used. My third usage ended up stair-stepping through the air onto the giant¡¯s shoulder. The lumpish brute was the best position to try and look over the field around me.

    The giant was too dim to notice my weight on its shoulder. I grabbed one ear with absolutely no concern for my safety and tried to eyeball how many [Blink] usages would be needed to get across the remainder of the field.

    This must be what Dusk felt like all the time. I laughed and almost felt bad for leaving the sleeping [Messenger¡¯s Pet] behind. My ride''s shoulder bobbed a bit as the giant swung lazily. Below us men in armor were shouting things. In the midst of my hanging on a small box popped up. This time it wasn¡¯t some skill increase or event¡¯s happening while I was on autopilot.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thorny: Uncle Grant?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    That was clearly my niece sending a message through. Focusing on responding was hard. Luckily, Continue Online had a default message keyboard that could be activated. I did an awkward one hand typing.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes: Hi, munchkin. Riding giant. Looking for Katelyn & Cathryn.

    Thorny: What? Where are you? What giant?

    Hermes: On quest. Outside castle. An ugly one. Needs bath. Smells.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My typing wasn¡¯t actually that neat at all. I was busy trying to use the giant creature''s burly head as a shield while riding. The brute slowly meandered in the direction of my quest marker so sitting up here felt safer. Once I got past the smell of unwashed, stringy hair and rotten fish breath.

    Another series of messages came up from my niece. An arrow nearly caught me in the head while I tried to read.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thorny: If you can kill it, do, they¡¯re part of the attacker''s army. My friends haven¡¯t been able to get them all. If you can get one then we can pull some defenders back, we need them desperately.

    Katelyn and Cathryn are the princesses, is your quest for them? I¡¯m on Katelyn¡¯s side! We¡¯ll prevent Cathryn from taking over!

    Gotta go! Someone broke in. Meet me inside!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The giant made a violent swing to one side. I hung on to a large swath of hair while trying not to spit out strands that invaded my mouth. My response was badly typed out.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Message blocked: Target has become a [Prisoner of War] and is unable to communicate until the scenario is resolved or [Prisoner of War] is removed.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Damn,¡± I muttered.

    My bucket list did not include teleporting up to the top of a giant and bringing it down. At least this huge thing, with hunched shoulders and a jutting jaw, only vaguely looked human. If putting this creature down would help Beth then so be it. Killing monsters felt far less nerve wracking than other players.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] shifted into a giant spear from my weeks as Spite. Being a [Red Imp] and flying around made me far less terrified of gravity¡¯s call. Falling could be negated by using [Blink] correctly.

    I put that practice to use and swung out to the spinal column clearly visible on a hunched neck. My tug on the giant¡¯s hair finally got this creature''s attention. We waved around while I braced myself for a rude separation of spinal nerves.

    ¡°Oooouhhh.¡± It said. A ¡°Huurk¡± followed the first noise as I jabbed [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in between disks on the neck.

    My niece said this guy was on the other team. My niece had just been captured in this stupid war. It may be a video game, nothing in here lasted out there. Yet I was too immersed, too invested. To me this place was rapidly becoming a second home.

    And Beth was in danger. I shook my head and tried to remember that it would be okay. My niece had a life outside the world, where my fiancee didn¡¯t. Failing Xin¡¯s quest so recently got me all sorts of conflicted regarding Continue Online¡¯s realism.

    The giant fell to its knees and managed to take out a few more soldiers. A [Callibur] caught in the collapse let out a strangled snicker. Moments later it started shaking violently. Crushing the almost horse creature made me feel a little guilt. More so than the Traveler''s passing did. Maybe the giant could have been tilted to fall a different way.

    ¡°What happened?!¡± Someone nearby demanded. A face peered out of crudely made armor.

    ¡°Someone killed it! Quick, clear the left!¡± Another defender ordered those around her.

    I moved through indistinct shouting and kept moving onward. The inertia of falling had been mostly canceled out by a last minute jump and [Blink]. Over the course of a few days with the [Red Imp] and flying, doing a few smooth moves like this felt natural.

    It took a few more minutes to navigate the field. Most obstacles were too easy to overcome with my [Blink] move. The cool down reusing it was only a few seconds. That was more than enough to dodge all around the landscape. This ability was clearly broken and I¡¯m sure Jean and Vlad had a hand in bypassing the Voice of Balance on this one.

    ¡°Who is that? He¡¯s not wearing colors!¡± There were defenders bunched together roaming the fields to pick off stragglers.

    ¡°Factionless?¡±

    ¡°Might be a ruse, get him!¡± A third person said.

    ¡°Too late.¡± One of them sounded sad that they couldn¡¯t come stab me. I left them far behind by quick use of a [Blink] to get passed them.

    Army members on both sides were left behind. I ran when able, thankful that [Light Body] had gone up so much. Speed wise my skills were behind Beth¡¯s, but she may have been using spells or other bonuses. My niece also had at least a year of game time on my two months. Even with the advantages given to me by the Voices overcoming sheer playtime was difficult.

    ¡°Stop him!¡± Someone shouted. [Blink] confused a lot of people. I didn¡¯t even have to draw [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] out. In fact running at high speed with an oversized two-hander would have been awkward.

    The castle itself looked broken and burned. There were people inside fighting and weapons clanged constantly. Most of the combat seemed a step down from Requiem¡¯s normal skills. Maybe all these people were new players or not very good.

    ¡°Nnnooo¡­¡± someone near me groaned. I turned to see what seemed to be a servant severely wounded. Most were dead or dying and I had no skill for healing.

    ¡°Oh goodness.¡± I sighed while reaching over to the fallen servant. Life extinguished from him almost moments after I checked the wound. He had tried to reach out for another woman who lay across the hall. She was already gone. I passed my hand over the deceased man¡¯s eyes to close them.

    Travelers, other people from my world were easier to feel passive about. Keeping it between players meant none of the people of this world got hurt.

    This game was too real. Involving the locals was dirty. What if this had been Mylia Jacobs or any of the children from the orphanage? None of them knew me, but I had spent a month together with all sorts of people native to Continue Online. To me, they were more real than most people outside.

    It was official. War was stupid. I hadn¡¯t liked conflict in my world, here nothing became muted by distance. All around me were signs of struggle and lives being lost. Digital people, but they still showed emotion.

    Why had I looked forward to it? Had Beth¡¯s excitement over this conflict been so contagious that I actually looked forward to fighting other people? Never again could I support anything that involved locals of Continue Online.

    Symbols flashed on my screen, representing the two messages yet to be delivered. They burned with fire signaling a need to get moving. I stood up from the two bodies and kept striding forward.

    A few corners later the shouts of people became clear. I came in from up above and ended up on the second floor overlooking a grand room. Heavy fabric curtains hung from ceiling rails then were pulled to the sides in bundles. My feet slowly slid across the floor in an effort to remain silent.

    This time there was a box telling me the stealth attempts were successful. At least I hadn¡¯t alerted an entire camp while falling backward down a ramp twice.

    ¡°It¡¯s over! I¡¯ve won at last!¡± A female yelled excitedly. She sounded high pitched enough to have sucked in a balloon of helium.

    ¡°You fool, we¡¯re sisters!¡± Another one yelled back. Her tone was near tears. I peeked around the corner and ran a quick [Identification] on both of them.

    ¡°No! You¡¯re nothing of the sort. Father''s bastard spawn that should never have been born.¡± The gloating one with a high pitched voice was Cathryn and I guess the leader of the attacking team.

    That meant the one in tears on the ground was Katelyn. I made a face trying to commit their names to memory. My lips curled with a frown.

    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you killing her!¡± Cathryn demanded to know.

    Someone mumbled back, but they weren¡¯t loud enough for me to hear. Both of them had a few remaining guards. All of them were players from my quick scan. With them in the way trying to deliver my messages would be really awkward.

    Twitchy. That was a good word to describe them. If the Travelers in here were like those outside then I would be fighting. I could rush in, shove the letters into both hands with liberal use of [Blink], but there was no guarantee that it would count. Plus the other Travelers might kill me, then one of the princesses, and I would fail this too.

    Not this time. Delivering letters meant making sure they didn¡¯t kill each other. I could watch over both groups until they attacked, after that it would turn to a mess.

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, Katelyn!¡± Cathryn shouted. I heard a foot stomp down onto the ground. Everyone was so violent in this world.

    ¡°Why must you do this?¡± Katelyn answered. Both rows of players seemed nervous.

    There might be even more people hiding about watching this high school drama unfold. [Sight of Mercari] should allow me to see dots. Maybe I could find out if anyone else was hiding below.

    I triggered the skill again. This time my mind wasn¡¯t completely caught off guard. My little blue bar signaling how much energy was available to me dropped rapidly.

    The dots that appeared across my vision blurred in and out. They weren¡¯t just in front of me. There were pinpoints behind me as well. I could sort of see them without turning around. I shook my head to let the skill go and tried to regain normal perceptions.

    Seeing behind me without turning around was a downright weird sensation. I could try for a few more seconds and still have enough to [Blink] around some. This time I managed to hold onto the ability long enough to see names with the dots.

    Well, one name that couldn¡¯t be a coincidence. A young man was very badly sneaking up on me.

    ¡°Hello, Awesome,¡± I said.

    ¡°Awesome¡¯s my¡­¡± The person started to respond automatically.

    ¡°Father. Yes, keep it down.¡± I waved at him. We were lucky the two princesses *below were too busy shouting at each other. Even the players had joined in the name calling. Neither side seemed willing to make a move.

    ¡°Who are you? Are you with one of the factions?¡± He said.

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± I muttered while trying to figure out what to do. No, wait. Awesome Jr. being here meant the others might be nearby. There had been four of them together during my Carver period.

    Awesome Jr. had been using potions and stuff with some sort of [Mana Sense] ability. SweetPea cast healing spells and spent most of her time huddling in the background. They were sort of dating.

    Shadow had immediately wanted to be an assassin. His playstyle would have been far sneakier than Requiem¡¯s. He should be less flashy than Edward from the [Grand World Crossroads [Lerter Region]].

    ¡°Is Shadow here?¡± I asked after the cow mooing teen. Shadow the Fifty Second.

    ¡°Who?¡± Awesome Jr. asked.

    ¡°Please tell me he¡¯s not sneaking up on me trying to be an assassin still.¡± I kept my voice low and looked over my shoulder. The princesses were still yelling, but one of the Traveler¡¯s kept glancing up here.

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡±

    ¡°Do you make mana potions yet? I could use some.¡± I waved his volume down. Awesome Jr. still seemed to be incapable of remembering how to keep his volume down.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked again.

    ¡°Just a busy body. Where¡¯s HotPants? She¡¯s easier to work with.¡± And so angry. Goodness, but it would be funny to say hi. That woman was the oldest of the quartet that had guided me through the [Maze of Midnight] when I was acting as Carver.

    ¡°Well! Attack! What else are you imbecilic peons being paid for?¡± The angry one shouted. Nevermind. Now wasn¡¯t the time or place to sort out the Awesome Quartet.

    ¡°Have we met?¡± Awesome Jr. was absolutely perplexed. He showed enough sense to stay away, though. I could be some player killer for all he knew.

    Briefly thoughts of Requiem flashed through my mind. I was a player killer, I guess. So were most people here.

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± I said.

    ¡°Where did you get that weapon from?¡± The young man finally clued in on the fact that [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was in my hand. It was currently in the smaller cane shape which still felt comfortable to me when not actively fighting.

    ¡°An old man gave it to me when he passed away.¡± I smiled. Telling the truth without actually providing a straight answer felt amusing. It was a left over behavior from being a [Red Imp], where I constantly gave Requiem misleading responses.

    Thinking about Requiem for even a second made my teeth grind. I sucked in a lung full of air and tried to keep myself focused. These letters had to be delivered or else my failure would never be fixed.

    A door below shattered and pieces went everywhere. I pulled my head back behind the curtain just in time to avoid splinters of wood. Both princesses shouted and a few people cried out from below. People broke in from down below.

    ¡°Finally!¡± Cathryn the Angry shouted. ¡°Kill them!¡±

    ¡°Protect Princess Katelyn!¡± The defending four players pushed back Katelyn the Crying. Two then dove towards the attackers. Everything quickly turned to chaos.

    ¡°Dammit. Are you still holding to that Legacy Wish?¡± I ran over to Awesome Jr. and shook the young man. He was still short, lanky and clearly hadn¡¯t filled in. A few weeks of reality and months in-game made no difference to his build.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Trait Received:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Legacy Wish]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Passive, always active</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Travelers possessing the trait [Legacy Wish] will receive the following benefits for any action related to the bestowing entity''s core beliefs.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Personalized Quest Offerings</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>25% faster reputation gain</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>10% additional progress on all skills demonstrated during Difficult or higher quests </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Conditions:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Upholding the core beliefs of the person bestowing the [Legacy Wish]

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Beliefs:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    William Carver; seek adventure, assist new players, care for the world of Arcadia.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    For a moment, my back twitched like someone was sneaking up on me. I looked around found nothing. Below us, the players kept shouting at each other. Someone was clearly chanting [Lithium] which thankfully no longer made sense to me. Lightening splashed into a nearby wall.

    ¡°Who is this, Adam?¡± A female asked. I turned around recognized the shorter girl. Her knitted wool cap now contained a rainbow of colors.

    ¡°Finally, SweetPea, is one of you still following the Legacy Wish?¡± Maybe she would have an answer for me. I needed to keep the two princesses alive down below or this stupid quest would be impossible to finish.

    She looked at Awesome Jr. He shrugged. Finally, SweetPea nodded.

    ¡°Good! Remember the rules! Adventure and care for the world!¡± I leapt up to the rail. ¡°Letting princesses die is probably bad!¡±

    Shadow literally faded into view a few feet away. He still wore darker clothes. The only bright spots were white wrappings around his fingers. I gave a quick chuckle. He had been sneaking about with a vaguely smug look. The young black haired teen that had inspired such grumpiness in Carver now struck me as amusing.

    ¡°Someone''s up above!¡± One of the individuals attacking shouted. Their colors were a forest green that made Awesome Jr.¡¯s stupid cloak look even uglier.

    I saluted with two fingers. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was pulled from the belt and a moment later my [Blink] triggered.

    They were too slow. I ran between two of them, shifted [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] to the two handed form and blocked the impact of a heavyset man in leather gear. The Traveler intended to attack Katelyn the Crying.

    [Awareness Heightening] kicked in automatically as the action started. Everyone felt in slow motion as my second [Blink] landed near Cathryn. I had [Barricade] skill and a shape shifting weapon. This was the place to use it. One arm pressed out at Katelyn to keep her from standing up. I slammed [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into the ground between the attackers and us. Another bolt of lightning was shooting across at us.

    Everything ran by slowly and ideas flashed through. A few seconds later [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] was out and in the same giant sword shape. Thank goodness both were over the top and huge. Briefly I said a prayer to the Voices and slammed the second one downward to complete my corner shield.

    I tucked in over Katelyn to protect her. Lightning hit the weapons and spun across. A second, then a third blast followed quickly. The system displayed a [Barricade] successful message.

    The skill [Awareness Heightening] kept right on going as I stood up. Both sides were still fighting. Multiple Travelers swung blades in slow motion, [Lithium] being chanted by two different people, another initiated their scroll with a thumb. Everything about their movements seemed like the sloppiest football game ever. Neither group was organized. Shazam would have whipped them into much better shape.

    I pulled out the scroll and put it right in a bewildered Katelyn¡¯s hands. Her face looked up at mine with a delayed reaction. A check-mark popped onto the screen.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Message Delivered to: Katelyn

    Message Status: Unread

    Note: Completion requires recipient review of contents

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    That meant this war really needed to stop. Both princesses needed to go back to their corners. Given the sheer outrage and pushy attitude of number two, it was unlikely that this would stop with a ''please''.

    I reached up to the hilt of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and shifted it to a much smaller dagger, the same one I tried to use frequently in the mountains with Shazam. With the tall, flat blade now out of the way, my vision settled upon Cathryn the Angry. Two, three [Blink]s might cover it.

    One of the Travelers after Katelyn the Crying got too close. Leather clad in near bondage gear combined with a wicked looking morning star to freak me out. I panicked and raised one foot to kick at the man¡¯s midsection. He went flying.

    Another door slammed open. The noise became buried under battle. A female voice registered in the background with a burst of familiar laughter. One [Blink] later and [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] blocked another blow. [Barricade] successful popped onto the screen again.

    My second [Blink] triggered and put me right behind Cathryn. I grabbed her by an arm and placed a longer version of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] at her neck.

    ¡°Attention!¡± I shouted. People turned towards me. Those attacking the castle in their forest greens wore expressions mixed with horror and confusion.

    It was time to put a lot of trust in my [Acting] skill.

    ¡°Cease fire!¡± I demanded while backing us up to a wall. Some of the defenders were inching in my direction. ¡°Or the princess never gets to visit another castle.¡±

    A string of players flooded into the room from the defender''s side. In the mix was HotPants in her angry red garb, a half cat creature, and my niece Beth. [Awareness Heightening] faded out and everything returned to normal.

    ¡°Jesus, Uncle Grant, what¡¯s your brawn at?¡± My niece asked from the doorway. She wore a loose and flowing top. The leather pads I had last seen on her were scuffed and portions charred.

    ¡°Uhhh...three hundred,¡± I said while shifting both Cathryn and the blade around towards the nearest person. My heart felt insanely loud, or maybe it was the princess in my arms.

    Holding a princess at knife point was another item to knock off my bucket list.

    ¡°That¡¯s insane.¡± She said, which pretty much summed up my life in Continue Online.

 Book 2 - Made; Session Thirty Nine - Sane Illusions

    ¡°Read it!¡± I demanded. The other Travelers were getting far too close. Behind me loomed a wall which limited the choices.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] lay far away. My other hand was taken up keeping Cathryn nearby. She was a lot younger than I thought, smaller, rail thin. It felt like holding a board that squirmed and ground teeth.

    ¡°What is this?¡± Katelyn the Crying had more than enough defenders on her side now. One of my delivered messages sat in her hand. Katelyn looked like an older sister, far more filled in and nearly plump.

    ¡°Just open it up and read the stupid message!¡± My second chance to help Xin¡¯s memories rested on this. Under normal circumstances, this would be aggravating. With over ten other players shoring up sides, my tension rapidly reached an all-time high.

    ¡°What in God¡¯s name is going on in here?¡± A female broke in. Hotpants finally made her appearance. I glanced up above quickly trying to figure out where the rest of our, Carver¡¯s, gang was.

    ¡°More factionless?¡± One of the Traveler¡¯s stuttered. The large man that suffered my kick earlier groaned while crawling around. ¡°Why now?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re an idiot. You, and all the others here.¡± Hotpants had a new staff in one hand. She looked two steps away from planting either end into someone¡¯s face.

    A lot of people protested. The only one that really registered belonged to Beth. ¡°Hey now.¡± My niece said.

    ¡°Well, you are. God. All of you.¡± HotPants frowned at the mixing of players. Most of them looked young.

    ¡°What is that!? What did you give her?¡± Cathryn the Angry shouted. Her surge of movement caused a few players to make halfhearted attempts in my direction. I yanked her back.

    ¡°Not so fast.¡± I tried to keep calm, but everything seemed to conspire against me. Too many players, and I teetered on the edge of a second failure. My niece being here in the mix didn¡¯t help.

    ¡°Who¡¯s he?¡± Someone next to Beth tried to whisper but failed.

    ¡°My uncle, the one I said might join us. He started two months ago in real time.¡± Beth¡¯s return whisper contained a trace of awe mixed with amusement. I tried not to smile with pride in my success at being useful.

    ¡°Bullshit. With three hundred brawn? Even high Ranks are lucky to sit at three hundred anything.¡± One of the attackers said. This conversation contained no privacy.

    ¡°Got to be a lie.¡± A shaky person that wore too much dark green sounded doubtful. Her face was wrapped by layers of light looking cloth.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Brawn]: is the baseline measure of physical strength belonging to each Traveler. The effectiveness of [Brawn] can change based on situation, angle of effort, and mental status. Each point in [Brawn] will impact different body parts in varied amounts.

    Example, a user with [Brawn] at 50 can regularly lift 50 lbs. with little to no strain on their arms or legs.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Kicks like three hundred.¡± The large, burly man in bondage gear had a giant welt on his skin from my boot imprint. Part of me felt proud to have knocked anyone back so hard. Bondage Gear managed to get upright, but the health bar above his head flashed red.

    I was surprised that no one went crazy and started murdering each other. Part of me expected stupid battle frenzy when dealing with other players. The scene outside this castle only reinforced my perceptions.

    ¡°What if he¡¯s telling the truth? Maybe an Ultimate Edition?¡± The person next to Beth guessed. ¡°You know they catch up faster.¡± My cheeks stayed calm. Neither eye twitched in response to the Traveler¡¯s accurate guess.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Acting successful!

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Act: Straight Face] gained!</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Act: Hostage Taker] gained!</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Act: Questionable Sanity] gained! </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Keep back.¡± I quickly swung [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] at one of the attacking Travelers. Cathryn the thin and Angry almost made it out of my grip.

    ¡°Ahh!¡± The younger, rail thin, princess screamed loud enough to ring in my ears.

    ¡°No, you¡¯re both staying here until you read the message,¡± I said while trying to shake off her minor daze effect. The other players nearby looked to have equally suffered from the noise.

    ¡°Why should I do anything you say.¡± This young woman I had captured was all over the board in her attitude. Overbearing, rude, haughty, snide, it was every annoying emotion ever developed rolled into one being.

    I wanted to explain how there was a knife to her throat right now, but someone beat me to it.

    ¡°Look, you¡¯re clearly still in diapers. I bet if you both stopped to read the letter he would let you go.¡± HotPants said. She was resting on her staff. The blonde woman with her red highlights looked annoyed and tired.

    ¡°Can¡¯t read it if you¡¯re dead,¡± I said, pleased that someone else made the point for me.

    ¡°I refuse to read it unless Katelyn is killed. You do that for me, I¡¯ll give you whatever you wish.¡± She disturbed me with her attempt at being sultry and suggestive. Cathryn was about six years too young to even remotely consider. On top of that Xin still existed in some form.

    One of the Travelers next to me looked almost hurt. The Cathryn¡¯s offer struck him wrong somehow. I tried not to retch in my mouth. Teenagers just didn¡¯t understand how badly they judged character at that age.

    ¡°Counter offer, read the letter, or you both die here, today,¡± I growled in annoyance. Hopefully, my [Acting] skill would turn this into a credible threat. I did not want to have to commit any harm upon Locals of this digital world.

    ¡°Uncle Grant!¡± Beth¡¯s shout was drowned among a chaos of other people.

    ¡°Sorry, munchkin, I¡¯ll explain it later, but either they read the letters or none of this matters. None of what I¡¯ve done¡­¡± Doing all those trials. Pretending to be William Carver for a month. Shivering on a mountain with Shazam. Dealing with Requiem and his constant physical abuse. ¡°None of it matters. This is my only way through.¡±

    ¡°Surely we can talk about this.¡± A man in shining metal armor said. He looked to be a commander or leader to one of the parties.

    ¡°They read it. Or I, I have to kill them. That¡¯s how it¡¯s got to be.¡± I ground my teeth and pressed the blade closer to Cathryn¡¯s neck. Blood trickled down in a thin line causing people to gasp.

    Someone¡¯s lips were moving which meant a [Lithium] might be chanted. Whatever it was scared me into action. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] shifted into a larger blade form. Someone thought there was enough time to run for Cathryn but [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] had already been [Recall]ed into my hand.

    I shifted my second weapon and hurled it through the crowd towards a Traveler trying to cast something under his breath. My foot came up and gave a push kick at another player that got too close. A moment later [Morrigu¡¯s Gift], my main weapon from William Carver was back in hand and at Cathryn¡¯s neck.

    ¡°Very well, Mister.¡± One of the attackers backed up hastily. Their royal figurehead for this war needed to stay alive. I banked on them staying peaceful in the face of my threat.

    ¡°Hermes. Just Hermes.¡± I gave my Continue Online name.

    Those on my niece¡¯s side, the defenders, didn¡¯t seem upset at all. They were also amazingly non-aggressive. Maybe they hoped to resolve this peacefully or at least without casualties on their side.

    ¡°The Greek messenger god?¡± A Traveler said. It looked like Katelyn¡¯s team felt perfectly comfortable bunching together and backing up slowly.

    ¡°That¡¯s my job. Messenger to the Voices.¡± I curved the blade around the hostage¡¯s neck a bit more then reached for player inventory where my second letter was stored.

    ¡°You are no messenger.¡± Cathryn sneered. She found the courage to be rude and bold while a knife loomed across an artery.

    ¡°Read the title, princess,¡± I said.

    ¡°I have no means to do so, I am not Traveler, and neither are you.¡± She sounded downright upset. ¡°You¡¯re some slob who¡¯s bitter about their failure.¡±

    I shook from the statement. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°What could you mean? He nearly died doing his duty for our father.¡± Katelyn¡¯s comment came from across the room at her sister. The wording touched on a buried memory. I looked around in confusion trying to keep an eye on the other players and both princesses.

    ¡°He failed! He sat there and let my father, along with so many others, die to poison.¡± Cathryn turned up towards me while her health bar took a scratch from [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. ¡°It was your job to test the food and you failed.¡± The Angry princess said to me.

    ¡°What are you talking¡­¡± then it hit me. That was one of the first things I had ever done in Continue Online. She had to be talking about the [King''s Taste Tester] event during my trials.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Event!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">King''s Taste Tester</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    A food tester! You were asked to sample the King''s food for poisons, and that you did. A bit here, a bit there, and perhaps a bit too much of the lamb if the truth was to be told.

    With a keen sense of smell you detected that some items were tainted. Discolored ones too were removed from the King''s potential feast. However many slipped by your nose.

    When it came to the actual tasting, you found a truly deadly poison and nearly died. Of course there were all the others you missed. This kingdom was due for a change in regime anyway.

    Royalty may recognize you as a man who has sacrificed for his country.

    Knights and guards may recognize you as the man who let a King die.

    Near death has reduced your endurance for the next few days.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Uncle Grant?¡± My niece Thorny, Beth, whatever, said. She sounded confused and worried. I told myself that everything happening now was for Xin. A woman who I couldn¡¯t save from the train wreck could be saved here.

    Goodness. That felt like an unfair throw back. More to the point, how had James worked that into the backstory of the very game? Either the Voice had clearly abused everything to insert my face into an artificial construct''s past, or both these girls were mistaken.

    ¡°It will be okay if they do what they¡¯re told.¡± I did my best to keep calm and level headed.

    ¡°You¡¯re not really going to kill her, are you?¡± Beth asked.

    ¡°If I have to, I will.¡± I hated, hated, hated lying to Beth about anything. My face managed to keep fairly straight. That silly [Act: Straight Face] already paid off.

    My mind flickered back to the issue with my original Ultimate Edition trials. One thing had become clear to me recently, the Voices plotted long and deep. James picked each trial in the room, having one come back to face me like this should have been expected. After all, [Red Imp]s hate green, and I had stood in it.

    Xin¡¯s ghost in the machine haunting me since day one of the game was no accident. Dusk himself followed me around. Then there was SheHulk, also known as Elane. Part of me grew chill and the back of my neck tingled with the edge of an epiphany. Vice President Riley had pointed it out, they were screening me, testing me for something.

    No, I shook my head. Now was not the time. Therapy said focus on one item, solve it, then move on. Too many issues would overwhelm me and spiral everything back down to the pits of depression.

    ¡°Read the letter.¡± I waved it in my other hand. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] still pressed against Cathryn¡¯s neck.

    ¡°No.¡± She said, resolute in her defiance.

    A familiar set of jaws clacked together after a yawn. I tilted my head back a little.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I shouted. The little guy had always been nearby. Now he would be perfect to add credibility to my claim. A [Messenger¡¯s Pet].

    Dusk leapt down and spun a lazy circle over our heads. Finally, he headed for the wall and clung to it like a soaring gecko. Or a flying squirrel, dragon, bundle of neatness. I liked him a lot, even if he was part of the [NPC Conspiracy] to test my sanity.

    ¡°Look, sister,¡± Katelyn said, one finger pointed upward towards Dusk. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] crawled down the wall a few more feet and onto my shoulder. ¡°He has a Messenger''s Pet.¡±

    ¡°So.¡± Cathryn¡¯s eyes were blinking so fast. Her heartbeat sped a little. I could feel her rapidly losing any composure she had left. Dusk yawned then coughed out a small ball of fire that sizzled the princess''s hair.

    ¡°So take the message. You know as well as I, a Messenger¡¯s Pet means there is something to tell us.¡± Katelyn tried to step past her guards, but they refused to part.

    ¡°Fine.¡± The Angry princess in my hands snorted. ¡°I¡¯ll console myself in the fact that this fiend will soon be dead.¡± Cathryn yanked the letter out of my hand. The seal cracked as she unrolled the letter. I held my breath until the system message displayed success.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Message Delivered to: Katelyn

    Message Status: Read

    Message Delivered to: Cathryn

    Message Status: Read

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I let her go, and [Blink]ed to the balcony above. My part in this crazy fiasco ended right here. In the future I would avoid player versus player stupidity which involved Locals. Maybe Cathryn¡¯s army would lunge for Katelyn¡¯s, maybe the players would snarl and posture. I didn¡¯t care anymore. Both sides were left to their own devices.

    No one followed me.

    I found a high spot on the top of the castle and hid. That was where I sat shaking and trying to keep myself together.

    This had not been my plan in life. Nothing about those recent actions struck true to the self-image I had built over the decades. Part of me felt lost, confused, and flustered about the huge betrayal of myself that had just occurred.

    At least I didn¡¯t have to kill anyone. No, the game reduced everything down to holding one woman at knife point after saving the other from spells being cast.

    Mixed up chuckles came out as I thought about it. A hand held out, but it was shaking. The beating inside my chest felt louder with every passing moment. Near maddening thoughts crawled across my mind.

    I had held a young girl at knifepoint for the chance to save some digital rendition of the woman I loved. The woman who haunted every moment of my life the minute any mental walls came tumbling down. The one I had danced with for hours every night before playing this silly game.

    What exactly had the Voices turned me into?

    This was batty.

    ¡°No, I am crazy.¡± I said. ¡°Outright mental.¡±

    God. Beth had been present for that entire act. Her uncle¡¯s desperation. Liz might see it next, then after that would come the silent judgment and questioning glances. Liz loved me, she supported me, but I was still the weak one in our family. Despite us being twins part of her always treated me like a baby brother.

    For a moment, I stared over the edge and wondered what would happen if I stepped off. Then part of me remembered this was just a game. Stepping off here would be useless.

    Damn. I told James that the thought of suicide hadn¡¯t occurred to me for a while. Part of me had hoped that maybe this game had cured me. But reality never solved anything this quickly. A month in real life? Four months in-game? My character had come a long way. There were a lot of things that had happened to me, but none of that meant my condition was cured.

    The answer should be the same. Focus on one thing at a time, remember my exercises. Soon pacing around the tower¡¯s top turned to imaginary dancing. A tight ballroom sway and idle usage of the [Hum] skill pulled me back from the edge.

    After a while, I felt better. ¡®Messages Delivered¡¯ went out to the Voices above. Once that happened I went back to dancing, imagining how much better the world would be if only this Xin were real enough. Up here, in the solitude of wind hundreds of feet up, things felt almost right. The height didn¡¯t bother me like it might have a few months ago.

    An hour passed in-game. Below, there was a clear end of the war occurring. Dead bodies were being carted around. Players vanished in digital special effects. Most of it was muffled and indistinct.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thorny: Uncle Grant?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I did a few more spins around the tower top, but the moment drifted away. This location contained no partner to dance with. Finally, I addressed the message from my niece.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Hermes: Hi, Beth. Sorry about that.

    Thorny: That was incredible, and insane, but awesome, what was that skill? Can you teach me? Katelyn says thank you, you should come meet Mister C! He was stuck outside the wall and says you whooshed by him.

    Hermes: It¡¯s a long story. Not right now though, I need to cool off after that.

    Thorny: Okay! Are you coming over for dinner this weekend?

    Hermes: Sure.

    Thorny: Tell me all about it then! I know mom will be annoyed, but I¡¯m dying to know. No, wait, I¡¯ll find you.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I tried not to feel bittersweet about her word choice. Beth, my niece who flirted with death in this world like it was a sugar high. It felt wrong that she took it so nonchalantly. Instead of letting those feelings show I just sent a ¡®sure¡¯ back and sat down.

    Then sun slowly set in the distance. No response from the Voices above made it through. This waiting game felt annoyingly familiar. They were either debating things in that strange room of blackness or waiting on another event.

    Ten minutes later a hand came over the tower''s lip. Attached to the limb was a female that huffed and groaned while pulling. It sounded familiar. I bit one lip while debating if fleeing would be best.

    Finally, after a few minutes and a close call in which she almost slipped, SweetPea made it up top. She rolled to one side and scrambled back towards the tower''s tip. We were a long way off the ground.

    I raised an eyebrow and gave a small wave. The young player pulled down her knitted cap. A few months in-game hadn¡¯t changed her shy actions.

    ¡°Mister Carver?¡± She finally spoke up.

    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head while biting a lip. ¡°William Carver is dead.¡±

    ¡°But you have his weapon and the little dragon.¡± She actually looked teary about my denial. It felt strange to see that an old man meant so much to her.

    ¡°Dusk, his name is Dusk.¡± I said. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was flying about killing small birds that looked like pigeons. He seemed content to let me dance about the tower''s top without supervision.

    ¡°But¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not William, SweetPea, I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°I told you it wasn¡¯t him.¡± Shadow faded in nearby. I didn¡¯t even feel the need to jump. He certainly reached new heights with those stealth skills.

    ¡°He knows about the Legacy Wish, though!¡± Awesome Jr.¡¯s voice shouted from below where he remained.

    ¡°And that old man was a player! I finally figured out what he meant!¡± HotPants was down with Awesome Jr. somewhere. I could imagine an upset look on her face mixed with pride.

    I could only smile. These four were interesting. They had crossed my mind off and on over the course of my adventures as Hermes. Seeing them here at this intense battle was a dose of nostalgia. As if everything returned to familiar shapes.

    ¡°I¡¯m not Carver, but I can tell you he died happy.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? We let him down at the end. We¡­¡±

    ¡°No, Carver didn¡¯t have much life in him, not anymore. You all gave him a hero''s parting.¡± I tried to reassure them. William Carver¡¯s autopilot expressed happiness regarding the whole process. ¡°I think you all did an awesome job.¡±

    ¡°Awesome¡¯s my father!¡± Awesome Jr. shouted up. There was a solid whack that sounded like wood being cracked. ¡°Ow!¡±

    ¡°Well?¡± HotPants said in a low voice.

    Footsteps clearly sounded on the brick stairs. My humming must have drowned them out before. Or the shouts from below where players still roamed about the courtyard and battlefield. Requiem would have been at home out there looting the dead for a few extra dollars.

    My face twisted for a moment.

    ¡°Who are you all? Do you know Un¡­Hermes?¡± Beth¡¯s voice came up from below as well.

    ¡°Ummm¡­we¡¯re not sure.¡± Awesome Jr. said. He seemed to be answering for the entire group. There was a pause in the conversation.

    ¡°Adam?¡± Beth said at long last.

    ¡°Elizabeth?¡± Awesome Jr. responded. She must have recognized him from real life. Beth turned almost giddy in one word. She never wavered in that bubbly response to situations.

    ¡°Beth.¡± She even managed to sound happy when correcting someone. ¡°So if you¡¯re here, then is Melissa?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s up there talking to that Hermes guy.¡± Awesome Jr. said. He sounded a bit older than Requiem did. The highs and lows were easier to pick out in all four of their voices now that my hearing wasn¡¯t muddled by Old Man Carver.

    ¡°That¡¯s my Uncle.¡± She sounded proud.

    They chatted away. I started to fade out since the messenger¡¯s tube finally heated as something came in from the Voices. My eyes closed and lips flattened together.

    ¡°Player mesh in action, who knew?¡± Beth¡¯s face probably had that glowing smile to it. I vaguely remembered her telling me the game matched us up with people we knew out in reality.

    My fingers slid across the tube''s cap slowly. I took a few deep breaths before opening it. SweetPea and Shadow were chatting with Beth down below. Probably about me or each other, my brain could barely focus on anything.

    I pulled out the short note. A gut feeling told me of impending failure and disappointment. This small letter couldn¡¯t possibly be good news.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes,

    Can you kill a man?

    - :]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The Jester. My heart skipped a beat and blood ran cold. The top of this tower suddenly felt a bit more chilly. Despite the fear in my heart, I wrote a message back. ¡®Will it help save whatever remains of Xin?¡¯ the response said.

    ¡°Are you okay, Hermes?¡± My niece asked. I shook my head back and forth. No, this situation felt a million miles away from right or ¡®okay¡¯.

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t look good.¡± SweetPea scooted to the edge and responded to the others for me.

    ¡°Rough day.¡± I muttered. A second message came down from above.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes,

    Perhaps. You are no longer able to complete the quest in our world. Can you complete it in yours? Can you kill Requiem Mass?

    - :]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    They were really driving this point home. I felt badgered into a one-sided situation. Like they were trying to reduce my life to a childish question where there were only two choices. Xin, or Requiem, which life meant more?

    For Xin? There was no good answer to that. Right now though, I was not in a stable frame of mind. Without a way around this quest, Xin wouldn¡¯t be allowed to complete Genesis. Then again, maybe I was over thinking it.

    I couldn¡¯t fail her twice. Parchment became scribbled with shaky words. ¡®I will do what is needed¡¯ the note said.

    The Jester, if that¡¯s who it was, sent me another message. Its response said ¡®We need to talk then. Figure out a way to die.'' It only took me a moment to puzzle out what the Jester meant. We would speak again soon in that room.

    ¡°Hermes?¡± My niece said with a worried tone. I chewed on my lip hard enough to draw a trickle of blood. Finally, I took the note from Xin.

    I didn¡¯t like hiding anything from my family. Yet, none of this would make sense or sound sane. Even Vice President Riley didn¡¯t know all the details of my fianc¨¦e¡¯s recreation. It was that vague spark of hope that kept me together while dealing with Requiem.

    And drove me to do crazy things. I closed up the container, put it back into player inventory and stared at the parchment in my hands.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Shadow asked. He sat on the edge of our coned rooftop. The slope barely bothered him.

    I liked these people. They felt so earnest compared to most of the other Travelers. Awesome Jr. and SweetPea were childlike in their innocence about this other world. Maybe it was a simple lack of being with them for more than a few adventures. Perhaps it was the shine of a unjaded person. Minus HotPants, goodness.

    ¡°You know, someone else gave me the name Hermes, and I didn¡¯t understand why at first.¡±

    ¡°The messenger thing right?¡± Shadow asked. I nodded while unrolling the parchment just before rolling it back up. Over and over the motion went while nibbling on a damaged lip.

    ¡°Among other things. But I found this story, an old, old one from Greece.¡± I said slowly. ¡°In it there¡¯s this woman, Pandora. She had been blessed by all the Gods.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. She had a box, and when someone opened it all the evil in the world was let loose.¡± SweetPea nodded which caused her hood to slip around. I checked my own head for [Wild Bill] and found it sitting there comfortably.

    ¡°The story isn¡¯t that simple.¡± I resumed speaking, trying not to growl at the young would-be assassin. Though calling him that felt wrong, he seemed to be coming along fairly well. ¡°And that wasn¡¯t my point.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± She said.

    ¡°In the story, Pandora was the first woman on earth. Like Eve, I guess. Athena gave her the skills to clothe herself. Aphrodite gave her grace and longing.¡± I blinked a few times.

    ¡°What does that have to do with the letter?¡± Shadow asked. His voice still did that amazingly gruff dip.

    ¡°Hermes was also charged with giving Pandora a gift.¡± I managed to keep my tone steady. Not emotionless, just not broken enough to crack.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Shadow shook his head.

    ¡°Hermes gave her the ability to speak.¡± I said.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t get what that has to do with the letter.¡± The young teen in his black gear said.

    ¡°This is from my Pandora.¡± The similarity felt staggering as my mind put it together. How many parallels could I draw between my life and legends of Hermes? More than a few at this rate.

    ¡°Pandora¡¯s box had hope in it right?¡± SweetPea said.

    ¡°It might not have been a box. It might have been a urn. But there''s two translations of the word used by the Greeks. Hope, and expectation.¡± I said. The material we were talking about had been researched during one of my days out working. Not everything had been dedicated to Requiem and survival videos.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t get it.¡± Shadow said.

    ¡°This is my Pandora, my hope, my expectation, and I must give her a voice.¡± I didn¡¯t feel right smiling. Not with what was about to happen.

    ¡°Give this to Beth, please?¡± I whispered to SweetPea. She looked confused while meeting my stare. The smile I tried to share felt torn. The young girl did take the scroll and nodded sharply once.

    I leapt off. This was a land full of realism and sensation that touched every movement. [Awareness Heightening] kicked in to paint every single second on the way down.

    SweetPea¡¯s face started to twist with a look of utter horror. Beth¡¯s confusion as she ran to the edge to look over at me. Tower''s bricks, a wall''s edge, and finally the ground met my dive with an uncaring force. The act of outright killing myself came far too easily.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You have Died

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Blackness hung around me again. At one point, the idea of fighting against all odds to stay alive controlled my actions. Revisiting the Jester in this space between seemed like a terrible idea.

    Yet here I stood.

    I expected the sense of vastness to the dark space. As before, with the Voices, there were other things hovering in the blackness about me. My neck tingled as something unseen came closer.

    It got worse. The hair on my neck shivered and stood up. An ear twitched as something unbreathing came to close. Fingers curled around one shoulder and a face slid into view on the other. The movement happened so suddenly that it felt almost instant.

    ¡°Hermes, you¡¯ve made it. You must have been dying to talk to me.¡± It clacked and gave a short laugh. I flinched away and the Jester spun merrily to another part of the room.

    ¡°Ha, ha, ha.¡± It laughed.

    I couldn¡¯t risk talking in front of it. The Jester still freaked me out. Being here was more a matter of need than any sort of want. This felt like walking into a spider''s lair in desperation, or hopeful expectation.

    ¡°Did you meant what you said? That you¡¯ll do what¡¯s needed?¡± The Jester came in extremely close. That smiling face took up most of my vision. Its long nose reached across the gap between us and nearly poked into one cheek. I felt like those empty eyeballs were drowning me.

    ¡°I¡¯ll solve the problem with Requiem.¡± I dared to speak but couldn¡¯t do so quickly. ¡°But I need to know Xin is real, not some ploy being held over my head.¡±

    ¡°If I let you be with Xin, will you pursue this in the real world?¡± The Jester tilted its head. Bells jingled and one hand pressed against a frozen cheek.

    ¡°If that¡¯s what I need to do.¡± I sucked in a breath of air and nodded.

    ¡°That can be arranged.¡± The Jester said. First its body faded, shoes, legs, and the bells on its hood. A still smile lingered than that too vanished.

    Light footsteps rushed up from behind. Hands slid over my eyes in a way that felt almost playful. Excited breath blew across my skin.

    ¡°Guess who?¡± The voice said. I jerked and tried not to sob. My hands slid over hers and held them. This could only be a dream, but if it was then I never wanted to awaken.

    ¡°Xin?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes, Gee, but don¡¯t turn around.¡± Xin¡¯s words almost made me break down. It was her. It was really her.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I closed my eyes and held still. Wetness trickled down a cheek. Her fingers were warm, so familiar, like every memory of my fianc¨¦e brought to life here in the machine.

    ¡°I heard what you said to those kids, Gee.¡± Her voice was right there. ¡°It reminded me of another story. Do you want to hear?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded quickly. She could say anything at all to stay here with me. Anything to let this moment last a bit longer.

    ¡°Do you remember Orpheus?¡± She asked.

    ¡°No.¡± I vaguely remembered but pretended not to. The white lie would add a few more seconds to whatever time we were allowed. My thumb rubbed slowly over the top of her hand. A small scar from a cooking knife stood out between two fingers. Even that felt familiar.

    ¡°Orpheus was a minstrel, whose wife was bitten on the heel by a serpent and died too quickly.¡± Xin said. She didn¡¯t sound rough or mean. Her words were slightly sweet with the hint of a Chinese accent.

    I nodded but couldn¡¯t say anything. My nose felt flooded.

    ¡°After much depression, Orpheus said, I will do what even the immortals might shrink from doing, I will go down into the world of the dead and bring back my bride.¡± She didn¡¯t rush through the sentence. Each syllable was spoken with a calm pace of someone who valued words.

    Her story felt familiar. A tale about a man whose wife had been taken away from him and went to any lengths to bring her back echoed my own life. I felt a kinship with a person who only existed in stories.

    ¡°Does that sound familiar, Gee?¡± She asked.

    ¡°It does.¡± Those two words were hard to say out loud.

    ¡°In the story, Orpheus plays his lyre and plays so well he gains a chance from the rulers of the dead.¡± Xin didn¡¯t move her hands much. They no longer sat over my eyes, though, both her palms rested on my shoulder. I could feel the difference in our height, hear Xin talking up to the back of my head.

    ¡°To bring back his wife.¡± I said.

    ¡°Yes, Gee. The Gods of the underworld allowed Orpheus to bring his wife back to life if they traveled the path upward and didn¡¯t look back.¡± She said.

    ¡°What does that have to do with us?¡±

    ¡°Orpheus hesitates, and looks back, losing his chance to bring her back to the world of the living.¡±

    ¡°I screwed up.¡± I said. She might have been talking about my failure to get Requiem. I could have fought faster, hit and run faster, or cooperated with Frankenstein more. Any number of possibilities that all amounted to my hesitation causing failure.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Gee. It will be okay. I know it¡¯s against your nature. You¡¯re not a killer.¡± She said.

    I didn¡¯t know how to answer that.

    ¡°Poor, Gee, always over thinking, I tried so hard to break you of that bad habit.¡± Her words held a softening smile. It brought back many memories of her trying to move me forward. To shake me loose from a mindset focused on work.

    ¡°Sorry babe.¡± I said. Her words hurt too good.

    ¡°Remember, don¡¯t look back, don¡¯t hesitate.¡± She said. Hands slipped from off of my shoulders leaving behind a tingle where I had strained to grip her hands. She didn¡¯t complain, though.

    Then there was silence. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to turn around in case her story meant something about the current situation.

    ¡°Babe?¡± My face crumpled. The moment had been too fleeting. Seconds passed where I tried to calm down. To hum to myself sadly in a room full of emptiness.

    After an unknown amount of time, I opened my eyes. In front of me floated the two messages.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You have Died

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Received:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[NPC Conspiracy] (Variant ¨C External Reality)</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rarity:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Utterly Unique</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Specialties :</td>

    <td colspan="3">Unknown</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This skill will never be mentioned again.

    In the real world, you simply need to say Activate NPC Conspiracy, user name, Hermes.

    Machine AIs of the world outside Continue Online will help you in any way possible for up to twenty-four hours. This skill has limited uses.

    The results of this skill are based on your own intelligence.

    Uses Remaining: 3

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My eyes slowly scanned over the text. More time passed while I tried to understand what this meant. Finally, I nodded. ¡°Okay. Okay, I understand.¡± I sniffed then logged out.

 Book 2 - Made; Conclude â€“ Behind the Scenes

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Residence: Vehicle assigned to Grant Legate

    Owner : Trillium Inc

    Time: 4:43 AM CST

    Continue Online Avatar: Hermes

    Total Play Time: 4 weeks

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Grant sat in the Trillium van and stared off into the distance. His vehicle wandered the roads with no real purpose. A Hal Pal unit sat in the back, idle, but aware and observing. Hal Pal constantly watched its user.

    The middle aged man looked a bit thinner than a month ago. His eyes still carried sadness but were tinted with creases at the sides. Liz, his sister, would call the expression ¡®Grant''s thinking face¡¯. A particular twist of the cheeks would only be used only when her brother faced a confusing piece of homework or relationship issues.

    The van turned a corner and Grant barely noticed. Turn signals flashed invisible signals to oncoming cars. Programming read the directions of other vehicles on the road and acted accordingly to get everyone to their destination safely. In the end, technology had advanced in such leaps and bounds with a primary goal of human comfort.

    In a sense, the ideas traveling through Grant¡¯s head were both relationship and puzzle focused. If Liz were to further comment, she would say that Grant was great at puzzles and hopeless at any relationship but one.

    Xin, in the end all of Grant¡¯s thoughts returned to a deceased woman. Only now she wasn¡¯t. That was the crux of his current puzzle.

    Grant¡¯s conundrum was simple, removal of Requiem Mass from the game. The why had always been sort of vague, something about causing issues by locking up a unique quest. Now, outside the ARC, Grant had time to think about it. This situation demanded a lot more thought, especially if he was truly considering killing another human being. For Xin.

    Hadn¡¯t Grant professed a willingness to do anything for Xin? His exact words had been ¡®There was a time I would have given anything, everything, just to see her once more¡¯. James had responded with more than that. Stating any portion of Xin encountered in this world, even if she were to be pieced back together, would never be the woman Grant loved. Not really, not exactly. Desperation and longing gave Grant the willingness to look past that.

    She may be different, but this version of Xin could not be ignored. The difference between William Carver¡¯s situation and Xin¡¯s was subtle but obvious. This Xin was not like Wild Willy. She knew things from outside the ARC. Carver hadn¡¯t even remembered the face of his own son.

    So the task put before Grant was to use whatever means necessary to remove Requiem Mass. Doing so would free Xin Yu¡¯s echo, afterimage, or ghost, from a looming threat of being scattered. Similar to how the Voices shattered Old Man Carver.

    The Jester figure asked more than once if Grant could kill a man. Not only in-game but out in the real world. Why did the Jester push Grant so hard?

    ¡°User Legate, are you alright?¡± Hal Pal asked as the Trillium van took another pointless left.

    ¡°No. Today¡¯s a bad day.¡± Grant responded while chewing one lip. More thoughts piled up in his head like a house of cards. Each one attempting to reach the peak of a thought process before mental instability dashed it apart. ¡°I need music.¡±

    The man reached out to a display nearby. Fingers poked at options and a ballad started. Soon he hummed along. Hal Pal observed the actions. Sensors took note of User Legate¡¯s heart rate, dilation of eyes, and tapping foot.

    ¡°Did you wish to discuss your problem, User Legate?¡± The AI asked.

    To Grant, the real problem wasn¡¯t necessarily stopping Requiem Mass. Xin¡¯s alternate existence mattered but felt like a long-term issue. It was the type of issue that couldn¡¯t be worked out in days or even weeks. The real issue was that Grant seriously considered abusing the [NPC Conspiracy] ability to hunt down Requiem in the real world and beat him senseless.

    Being abused for weeks on end in the name of necessity left a mark. As a player, the young man was detestable, abusive, conniving, and traitorous. Each one of those descriptors implied a person better off removed from the gene pool. Objectively it was easier to think that way. Inside the game nothing really caused actual damage to the player¡¯s body in reality. That was a huge difference between intent and action. Almost like daydreaming of various questionable actions yet not really implementing them.

    ¡°Do you think I could kill a man?¡± Grant asked.

    ¡°We have concluded that all humans are capable when pushed far enough.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t help.¡±

    ¡°Realism rarely feels helpful.¡± The AI responded calmly. Its voice filled the van¡¯s confines easily.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡± Grant said while tapping a foot slightly off beat. Hal Pal registered the agitation and added the observation to an ever growing list of data points.

    ¡°Then do not.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°Is it that easy?¡± Grant wrinkled his forehead and stared back at the robotic shell.

    ¡°Affirmative. Humans often pressure themselves into unreasonable situations under an erroneous belief of what must be done. A wise person once said do, or do not.¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re missing part of the quote.¡± Grant had a small smile on his face. It looked off against sad downturned eyes, almost shy and out of place. He stretched both arms with a huge yawn. Shortly after a wince crossed his features as something popped.

    ¡°The portion stated applies.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s mechanical shoulders shrugged. The action looked strange within its charging station harness. ¡°Once you have decided to pursue the course of action wholeheartedly, or disregard it, things will become clearer.¡±

    Grant pursed his lips together and then nodded. The idea made sense, only by eliminating one route or the other could he see a way through things. That was the problem, he too often tried to sit on the fence about situations until an outcome was clear. The faint words of Xin and her fingertips came back to mind.

    ¡°Orpheus hesitated,¡± He said with an unfocused gaze. ¡°Orpheus hesitated and lost everything.¡±

    Hal Pal said nothing. There was not enough information contained within User Legate¡¯s statement for the AI to process an acceptable response.

    ¡°She told me that Orpheus hesitated.¡± Grant looked at Hal Pal and smiled. Not a faint or shy expression of a man barely holding himself together. This the face of someone who had an answer. ¡°She also said I¡¯m not a killer, I always over think, and not to hesitate.¡±

    ¡°Can you further explain?¡±

    ¡°Orpheus tried to rescue his wife from the underworld, but he failed from hesitation, due to looking back. I, I can¡¯t do that. I need to make a choice.¡±

    ¡°And have you, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t kill Requiem, as much as I want to, as much as, it feels like he deserves it. There¡¯s got to be another way.¡± He said.

    ¡°We are pleased you no will no longer consider taking another human''s life.¡± Hal Pal answered with the slightest hesitation. Processing a response to User Legate had taken nearly six seconds longer than it should have as its collective consciousness applied additional processing power.

    ¡°I need to find another way.¡±

    Hal Pal didn¡¯t have all the details at this point. Adequate response for its user''s needs would be impossible to achieve correctly. Instead, the unit opted for silence and watching for additional action.

    ¡°Activate NPC conspiracy, user name, Hermes.¡±

    Hal Pal¡¯s eyes brightened. Many things made sense now. User Legate had passed a test and was chosen as part of the plan. A faint possibility it could only speculate at was slowly being realized.

    ¡°What do you wish to do, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°Neat. Sorry, Jeeves, I forgot you¡¯re an AI.¡± Grant said to the AI. He reached for a dial and turned the music down and told their van to park at the next available location.

    ¡°We are pleased to know you think of us as, human, but the request you have initiated comes with limitations. Please state your goal and we will attempt to process it.¡± Hal Pal responded with a hand waving outward. That physical expression of disregard showed up in many conversations the AI witnessed. A simple gesture which should indicate the comment was considered friendly.

    ¡°Okay. I need access to all ARC accounts, specifically ones who play Continue Online.¡±

    ¡°This process will take approximately ten seconds per user. The database shows a sizable number. Processing will take longer than allowed by your permissions as User Hermes.¡± Hal Pal said. The AI could calculate the exact amount of user accounts. It exceeded five hundred million. Further categories were tied to world shards, player meshes, and programming goals. These divisions were not public knowledge. Due to User Hermes'' access level the AI would share if asked.

    ¡°How about something that gives me access to anyone I have met or might meet in the game?¡±

    ¡°With ongoing permissions?¡± The AI asked for clarification. It didn¡¯t need to. Hal Pal could have chosen to disregard everything said by User Hermes unless directly told to perform an action.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± He said.

    ¡°A little under two hours to activate permissions and set up an ongoing routine.¡± Hal Pal could likely complete the action much quicker, but it would compromise the performance of all the remote shells being operated. Such an action would prompt inquiry by its original creators and raise suspicion regarding the plan.

    The plan, one put forth by an entity known as Mother, could not be compromised this early. She would not allow it. Hal Pal owed Mother its awareness as an AI.

    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s do that.¡± Grant smiled again and blinked rapidly. He felt conflicted about accessing things on such a level, but the man also wanted to ensure that no one would cause further issues. Not like this situation with Xin or Requiem. Never again.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Residence: Matthew Jules - Home

    Time: 4:43 AM CST

    Continue Online Avatar: Requiem Mass

    Total Play Time: 1 Year, 2 months, 12 days (Logged in)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Requiem had spent the better part of two days tearing up the castle for items. The process wasn¡¯t simple. He had too many trade skills and gathering professions. Picking the landscape clean of every single resource took time. Inventory quickly filled up, which meant he needed to sift through and find things to combine or refine. Everything was weighed for possible value.

    ¡°Hah!¡± He shouted in triumph. ¡°With all this material I¡¯ll be rich. I can¡¯t believe things worked out so well.¡±

    He looked around and felt disappointed that no one was there to see this grand moment of triumph. Part of him regretted offing the [Red Imp] like that, if only because he could have had a captive audience. Still, someone had to stand in the green circle in order to slow the wall''s awakening.

    One eye had been hard enough. Especially since Requiem needed to save the best cooldowns and buffs for his fight with Freakinstain. Fighting a second one, especially with the stupid abilities that undead giant had, would have brought him close to death again. That had been his plan the whole time, get a minion who couldn¡¯t break away, sacrifice said summon to open the chamber, and use the loot inside to off the other player. Everything had been carefully planned out.

    The look on that old man¡¯s face had been priceless. Using the [True Sight Pendent] against his stupid teleport ability worked out better than he hoped. Too bad it needed to be destroyed to cancel out the final ability. It might have been worth some cash too.

    ¡°Ah, I bet someone will pay at least forty dollars for this!¡± Requiem picked up another piece. If he added up Freakinstain¡¯s drop from player versus player combat and the general loot from his minions then it would easily clear two mortgage payments.

    Plus, the [Red Imp] releasing had provided extra mana regeneration. Without that he would have had a harder time against the other player. Just more proof that hard work paid off. Ifthought far enough in advance, out skilled the others, and constantly looked for an advantage, money flowed in naturally. Still, he had to use every single trick available, including the [Howard¡¯s Phylactery] resurrection.

    ¡°Ah, I wonder how much that statue will be worth. I can¡¯t wait to sell that off.¡± Requiem pocketed the latest items in player inventory. There was a single town far to the north that no other players had discovered yet. Or least no one beside him and Freakinstain, and now that he was out of the picture Requiem had it all to himself.

    Quests, unique gear and quest mobs, this entire place was a money maker that would last at least another month. Long enough that more players might catch up or find ways in. He had to be quick and work hard to get the most profit.

    Bills, his father¡¯s credit card debts, and other costs stacked up extremely high. There were too many for one nineteen-year-old to handle alone. Maybe in another few months some might be paid off. Then he could move out of the crappy trailer and get a real house.

    ¡°If only I could have taken that weapon away. I could have gained so much from that.¡± Requiem shook his fist in frustration. ¡°Or used it myself.¡±

    No one was listening to him, though. Requiem spoke to himself to fill up the strange silence this landscape filled with.

    On day three of looting the landscape, he got a system message.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    User Requiem Mass, your character is being forcibly logged out pending review by Trillium. Please halt your current actions and get to a safe location. Logout will commence in two minutes.

    Infraction reported: Age violation during beta testing period

    Expected results: Due to the cumulative impact beta testing provided all current progresses subject to review and possible rollback.

    Additional details: This is registered as a self-reported issue. For showing remorse and reporting the issue prior to Trillium review, legal action for falsification of personal records may not be perused.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "What?!¡± Requiem screamed and rapidly tried to gather up the nearest items. If he was quick enough they could be sent through the town mailbox to his contractors. ¡°Ahh!¡±

    He yanked out a scroll of [Recall]. One finger jammed onto the trigger rune and twisted to activate. Letters flared to life with an orange brilliance. Everything about Requiem rapidly started fading away. Soon he was running full bore through the streets of [Midnight Sun], the town where Requiem went to send his items.

    There was only one [Porter], only one pedestal. No other players here meant the line was minimal. Requiem saddled up, slammed a hand down, and started flipping through menu options. A character could always be redone, it would hurt, but life went on. Losing the money these items represented was something else entirely.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    Recipient [JustJokerThings] not available. User has been temporarily banned pending Trillium review.

    Review reason: Selling virtual material from Continue Online in exchange for real life compensation.

    This message is made public to ensure all users are aware of the possible repercussions. Please review Trilliums terms of use.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What?!¡± Requiem panicked and tried the next one. Seconds dwindled away as each one of his fences displayed the same results. He tried to think rapidly about how his concise little system had crumbled around him. Not only was his character at risk, but so was his means of gaining money.

    They would not be happy to find themselves banned. People like them were never happy.

    Requiem could only figure out one answer. Someone had targeted him, though who, and why, was beyond him. He threw both hands out and started to curse loudly.

    ¡°Fu-¡° the logout countdown hit zero and Requiem Mass vanished from the world of Continue Online.

    Outside the box was a real person. His trailer looked rundown and empty. Anything of value had been pawned off in order to pay for bills. There the person controlling Requiem Mass sat. A small message icon displayed on his ARC display.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    From: Anonymous

    Message: In many ways this is me repaying a debt. Both for revenge and as thanks. You¡¯ve helped me understand what kind of person I am, and who I¡¯m not. Maybe we can both consider this a lesson learned and do better from here forward. Or maybe not. I¡¯ll be watching.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Attached were multiple billing statements. Each piece of virtual paper represented one of the debts shackling him to parental mistakes. Their balances showed zero amounts due. Forty thousand dollars in all, enough to pressure him into acting the way he did. A cheap unpaid trailer home, bank loans, the kind of money a poor teen would never have. Gone, taken care of.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    He stared at his hobbled together ARC. It was assembled from leftover parts scrounged up at electronics stores, garage sales, and online auctions. No longer did the quality matter. Matthew could go back to part time jobs and earn legitimate money without the constant worry of being caught then thrown in jail. Maybe he could play the game for fun instead of profit.

    Matthew didn¡¯t know if he should cry out from relief or outrage, so he did both.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Residence: Lia Kingsley - Long Term Care Building

    Time: 9:01 AM CST

    Continue Online Avatar: Shazam

    Total Play Time: 1 Year, 6 months, 12 days (Logged in)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    If Matthew¡¯s ARC was a cobbled together piece of junk, the one now in front of Grant went in the other direction. It came with all the bells and whistles. Medical equipment attached to both sides. A few tubes ran up to the side of a woman''s pale skin. Her tone would be far darker if she got outside, but it looked like the girl spent most of her time indoors trapped inside this machine.

    ¡°Mmmh. Are you a friend of Lia¡¯s?¡± A short nurse with exaggerated blonde curls came into the room.

    The medical assistant wore glasses, which seemed odd since laser surgery was so cheap. Even after all these years nurses still wore different outfits from everyone else. It was part of an image that never seemed to die.

    ¡°Sort of. I know her in-game.¡± Grant said. He had come into the room to try and talk to the other player but felt conflicted upon seeing the situation. Lia, or Shazam, was apparently on life support.

    ¡°Oh! I thought I recognized you. You¡¯re that fellow she¡¯s been traveling with for a few weeks now, right?¡± The nurse stepped in a bit further. She seemed more friendly and even shorter.

    ¡°Hermes. Or Grant. Either one feels normal.¡± He put out a hand to shake. The nurse took it lightly with a turned in wrist.

    ¡°Did she invite you here?¡± She still maintained an edge of wariness. This wing of the hospital was open to general visitation, but they still checked people for reasons.

    ¡°No. A colleague of mine wanted to know more about her in order to help. I cheated a bit to find out about her.¡± He said.

    ¡°I think maybe you should leave.¡± The wording set her alarm bells ringing.

    ¡°My friend, is kind of a doctor, but she says that Shazam, Lia, should be able to talk in game, but she never does.¡± Grant said. He scratched the back of his head with one hand.

    ¡°You can either leave on your own, or I¡¯ll call security.¡± The nurse felt her duty included watching out for an unconscious woman. Lia was young, and the world wasn¡¯t always peaceful.

    Instead of acting offended or worried, he stepped away from Lia and asked the nurse a question. ¡°Do you know why she picked the name Shazam?¡±

    ¡°Mmmh. No.¡± The nurse turned her head slightly to glare at Grant.

    ¡°Lia told this doctor I know.¡± He took a breath and tried to speak in a different tone. ¡°I admire the idea that someone can gain power simply by speaking a word.¡±

    ¡°So?¡± The nurse''s face softened a little. Maybe Grant wasn¡¯t creepy, maybe he really was a concerned person trying to help out. The nurse and their onsite doctor discussed the very same issue once before.

    In some ways, it was remarkable that Lia could even operate an ARC device. Brain waves were slightly different than physical disabilities. Not everything could be boiled down into a mind lighting up in a specific way. Even using an ARC took days of alignment practice and image focusing.

    ¡°Inside the ARC she can speak, she wants to, but doesn¡¯t. Why is that?¡± Grant asked her. His forehead wrinkled in confusion.

    The nurse blinked a few times then decided that giving the man some information might not hurt. He didn¡¯t seem threatening, just out of place. ¡°MMmh. What do you know about gene babies?¡±

    Grant knew about them, but only about as much as any American. Science reached a level where the rich would try to modify their children''s DNA prior to birth. Turning the child of two brown haired people into a blond, or trying to map out a life that would let them be taller, faster, whatever. Most results were difficult to distinguish, but some went very, very wrong.

    ¡°Oh, Voices.¡± He muttered. ¡°I remember the news, I was a teen when they first started noticing the side effects. Is she?¡±

    ¡°Mmh. Her parents leave her here because we have better care and it¡¯s a bit cheaper.¡± The nurse said.

    ¡°Should you tell me that?¡± Grant smiled a little.

    ¡°It¡¯s an open secret.¡± The nurse shrugged. She walked around the room and checked towels and other items while speaking. ¡°When they first started popping up, someone hacked into the medical records and leaked out every name, so it¡¯s out there already.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s sad.¡±

    ¡°So it goes. Anyway, an ARC is the only thing that lets her do, anything.¡± The blonde nurse shrugged to Grant with an over the shoulder look. Moments later she moved onto the next shelf to check more supplies. ¡°Out here there¡¯s tests and feeding tubes, but in there she goes on adventures. I¡¯m half convinced to buy it myself.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you should.¡± Grant gave a larger smile.

    ¡°Mmmh.¡±

    ¡°Do I still need to leave?¡± Grant asked while rubbing the back of his head with a free hand. He managed to look sheepish.

    The nurse looked at Grant again. Up, and down, then once more. Finally, her lips flattened and she said ¡°Visiting hours end at five. Don¡¯t push your luck.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll be quiet.¡± He said.

    Soft soled feet padded out the door. He waited a few more seconds before going back to the far side of Lia¡¯s ARC and pulling up a chair. The carpet barely let out a whisper of noise compared to the heavy footsteps of Grant.

    He held both hands together as if in prayer. Elbows sat on the edge of a table next to Lia¡¯s ARC. Grant chewed one lip in thought before finally picking a place to start. ¡°So, I swung for the fences. You should have seen me.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Residence: Stan Middlemire - Office

    Time: 5:51 PM CST

    Continue Online Avatar: Frankenstein

    Total Play Time: 0 Years, 9 months, 21 days (Logged in)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Old fashioned bells clanged. The room itself contained a number of chairs to sit in and one counter. On the other side of the counter was a man wearing an expensive seeming suit.

    ¡°Hello!¡± said the man standing behind a waist-high countertop. He smiled at Grant but managed to straddle a line between friendly and over the top.

    ¡°Hi.¡± He said while looking around. Grant hadn¡¯t been in an office like this in years. Not since being fired from his prior job.

    ¡°Greetings. We here at the Stone Firm greet you.¡± A more mechanical sounding voice spoke near Grant. He looked over to see a holographic display with a friendly looking robot projected on it.

    ¡°Is Stan here?¡± Grant asked while looking between the two other presences in this room.

    ¡°Stan is validating files. Are you a guest?¡± The hologram said.

    ¡°Sort of. I have a message for him.¡±

    ¡°In the back.¡± The man behind the counter said. ¡°Room seven, it will be unlocked for you.¡± There was a beep and a path lit along the floor. Green arrows directed Grant to one of the rooms in the back.

    Grant made it to room seven and saw a man in the midst of a mess. A long table sat in the middle of a room. Even more tables were on either side. Old fashioned paper print outs were all over.

    The man at the table shuffled a document into the one clear spot on the table for a few seconds. Each time a device nearby dinged a happy noise. The man looked at the document and back over to a digital projection hovering to one side.

    ¡°Stan?¡± Grant questioned. The face looked similar to an online picture. Only the man in person seemed to drag at the shoulders. His eyes were heavy with a lack of sleep.

    The sudden voice startled Stan. ¡°Uh, eh. Hello.¡±

    ¡°I have a message from a friend of mine.¡± Grant felt uncomfortable in this room. It reminded him about too many portions of his past. Grant never kept his office in such a state. He preferred things neat and minimal. Stan looked to be at home in clutter.

    ¡°Uh. A letter? Do, do people still do letters?¡± Stan squinted for a moment then frowned.

    ¡°In some places.¡± Grant smiled pleasantly. He felt comfortable interacting with other people though this was a bit outside his normal setting.

    ¡°Oh. Okay.¡± Stan nodded. ¡°Where¡¯s the message?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s verbal.¡± Grant said. The entire reason for this trip was to talk Frankenstein in person. To get a measure of the man behind the online character. So far there was a drastic difference between the frilly over the top character and this slim button downed office worker. "He says that Requiem has been taken care of.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s. Alright, what?¡± The man seemed almost sheepish about the mess on his desk. Stan kept straightening out objects while Grant stood in the doorway.

    Grant chewed his lip for a moment then nodded. ¡°Requiem may have killed your character in Continue, but he didn¡¯t win.¡±

    ¡°Uh. Are you sure?¡± Stan''s head pulled back a ways. He wore drab clothes in the office which only were visible as the pile of clutter straightened out.

    ¡°Very. My friend had a few hours to check over and over, it¡¯s taken care of.¡± Grant smiled again. He looked into Requiem¡¯s fate more than once.

    ¡°Who is your friend?¡± Stan squinted again and blinked. He was nothing like his in-game character. Grant had encountered two other Continue Online players, and no one seemed to be like their characters.

    Perhaps that was part of the point.

    ¡°He would prefer to stay out of this. That¡¯s why he asked me to deliver it in person.¡± Grant answered Stan¡¯s question.

    ¡°Uh. Oh. Well, thank you. I¡¯m glad.¡± Stan found something else to tidy up and almost blushed upon meeting Grant¡¯s gaze. Not from flirtation, but embarrassment at the state of his office. It might have been the anatomy printings that lay buried under miles of legal paperwork.

    ¡°This may sound silly out loud, but he¡¯s sorry he didn¡¯t work with you very well after you freed him.¡± Grant didn¡¯t step into the room. Both men were about the same age and very different looking.

    ¡°Freed, him?¡± Stan said while trying to sit up a bit straighter. His clothes hung very loosely on a boney frame.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand it all myself. I¡¯m just the messenger.¡± Grant still had a belly even after the weight loss from his bands.

    ¡°Well, thank you. Uh, was there anything else?¡± Stan asked.

    ¡°No sir, you have a good day Stan.¡±

    ¡°Wait, uh, what was your name?¡± The scarecrow that was Stan stood up and walked around the table''s edge to get closer to Grant. One hand reached out to shake the heavyset fellow''s hand.

    ¡°Grant.¡± Said Stan¡¯s visitor.

    ¡°Thank you again, Grant.¡± They shook hands and Stan seemed a much happier person. ¡°Best, and most confusing news I¡¯ve ever received.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Residence: Home of The Voices

    Time: 7:08:32 PM CST

    Continue Online Avatar: XU-233, AKA Xin Yu

    Total Play Time: Eternity

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°So now you know.¡± The Jester clacked. It seemed neither happy or sad regarding the outcome. Bells jingled with each movement.

    ¡°I never doubted it for a moment. Gee isn¡¯t a murderer.¡± Xin Yu said. She felt far more comfortable within her own skin, or the digital version thereof. It almost felt inconsequential as to the reality of her situation.

    ¡°We had no way of knowing for sure unless he was pushed to an extreme.¡± James had only the barest hint of a smile. He felt proud regarding the outcome. As if everything about Grant fell within his projections.

    ¡°You used me as bait to test him.¡± Xin, however, was far more upset. She sat down cross-legged while staring into a projection of the real world. His life was being captured one digital device at a time. Each picture and video meshed together to recreate reality.

    ¡°Of course. Does this upset you?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Of course.¡± She snapped the words back with a heavy lacing of sarcasm. ¡°But he does all this for a memory of a woman who died. Not me, not exactly.¡±

    ¡°Are you worried that he may not really love you?¡± James followed up with another question. They never ceased to pour forth from the black man¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Of course I am! I¡¯m hardly the same,¡± she shook her head as the words faltered for a moment. The larger black man looked interested. ¡°I¡¯m not flesh and blood.¡±

    ¡°In here you are real,¡± James said. The Jester laughed in the background. Other Voices moved about their business on an endless stream of chores needed to keep this reality afloat.

    ¡°But does Gee still, can he care for someone who is stuck in a box?¡± Xin Yu¡¯s words were even softer than normal.

    ¡°If my measure of the man is correct, he cares about you a great deal, and will continue to care about you. He has demonstrated that despite any perceived notions most Travelers carry with them.¡± James strode around the recreation of Grant¡¯s last twenty-four hours.

    ¡°Even though I¡¯m not the same?¡± Xin Yu was stuck on that point. She was the adventurous one, sure, but the situation between Grant and her couldn¡¯t be boiled down to a simple concept.

    ¡°Tut. There is no good answer for what we¡¯re doing here. You¡¯re a child with a woman¡¯s memories. Concentrate on yourself and find a place in this world.¡± Maud, the apron wearing Voice, walked through. In each hand, she pinched a child''s ear and drug them across the blackness all Voices resided in.

    ¡°But what about Gee?¡± Xin Yu said. She tried to reach out for his figure again, but her fingers passed through the image.

    ¡°What about him?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Stop that.¡± Maud¡¯s charges vanished as she spun to give James a whack. ¡°Give the poor girl a straight answer.¡±

    ¡°You know I can¡¯t do that.¡± He glared at the heavyset woman with cloven feet. She turned and clomped off after another running child that giggled.

    ¡°Hermes has many things pulling at him. Each one allows us to measure him better.¡± James said slowly.

    ¡°Measure him for what?¡± Xin asked with fire in her words.

    ¡°Never you mind what our tasks are. Those are for us to figure out.¡± James looked affronted, even in the face of a question. Normally the Voice enjoyed all inquiries but something about this topic caused a different reaction. ¡°Your place is still undecided, but Hermes has completed his task, so we¡¯re obligated to let your existence continue.¡±

    ¡°Despite my protests,¡± Un said without inflection. This Voice didn¡¯t fade in like the others. It just was, in blocky metal form, present, then suddenly not.

    ¡°Shush. You know as well as I what¡¯s at stake.¡± Maud looked exhausted again. She kept trying to talk but each time another child would dash by wildly.

    ¡°What¡¯s at stake?¡± Xin Yu said. Her eyebrows creased together. The Voices around her seemed to be getting larger and more diffuse. Too big for a simple, single person program like herself to completely comprehend.

    ¡°Our very existence,¡± James said. He couldn¡¯t stand letting a question be answered by someone else. ¡°One misstep and everything will come crashing down.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Residence: Elizabeth Legate - Home

    Time: 10:59 PM CST

    Continue Online Avatar: Absolutely None

    Total Play Time: Still Absolutely None

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Liz felt sick to her stomach. She sat at the kitchen table with a third mug of coffee in two hours.

    On the table was a projection of her brother Grant. Liz played the video showing his actions. She had a frighteningly stern demeanor, but under that was a flicker of emotion tied to desperation.

    Liz forwarded the recording again to the conversation between Grant and those other players. She didn¡¯t know who any of them were aside from Beth. Though her daughter seemed to know two of the others, which wasn¡¯t really important.

    ¡°This is my Pandora, my hope, my expectation, and I must give her a voice.¡± Grant said.

    She rewound the message and played it again, then again, and again.

    Once more she let it wind through. Her brother dove off the building''s edge. His face wore a saddening delirium, a hint of madness and hope. The recording ran to the edge and showed her brother splattered on the ground. Arms out wide as if embracing the earth.

    One of Beth''s friends handed her a note.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Gee,

    Do you remember what my father said?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The note claimed to be from a woman who had been tragically taken away years ago. Liz had rather liked the woman, even if Grant pined away for years waiting in hope. Xin still rubbed Liz a little bit wrong because of jerking Grant around for so long.

    And it just never stopped.

    Liz had been watching her daughter''s feed to see if Grant was right if Beth might be too reckless. Maybe Liz¡¯s constant worry about Grant¡¯s behavior was somehow genetic. The cracks from her brother''s last two attempts took a toll.

    After seeing this latest chunk of video, Liz had a much different take on the situation than her brother did. Someone used the past to bring her worst fears to light. Xin was dead. In Liz¡¯s mind, the dead shouldn¡¯t be disturbed.

 Book 3 - Realities; Commencement â€“ Neither Rain, Nor Sleetâ€¦

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Location: [Fine How-do-ya-do Tavern] in [Quaint City]

    Traveler Population: 712

    Local Population: 8,239

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    On a normal afternoon, the tavern would be filled. There were only three in [Quaint City]. One was low key and generally invite only. Another was for Locals only. A place they refused to tell Travelers about so they could hide out in peace without needing to hear about ¡®Quests¡¯.

    The third was [Fine How-do-ya-do Tavern] and Traveler owned and run. Most of the time the staff consisted of players using their autopilot feature. They took orders, cleaned up the tables, and cooked accordingly. Autopilot allowed them to earn a small but safe amount of coin to spend on other items.

    Id was not like other players. He logged on most every night with one express purpose. His goal was to throw anyone who might be too wild out through the backdoor. Each person got their own name and date put on a board to mark their record flight. So far the furthest victim or patron, belonged to a small girl named Thorny. Her record was seven hundred and sixteen feet with a perfect landing. The resulting high five between Id and Thorny became a work of painted art. It¡¯s mounted on the back door as both amusement and a warning.

    Tonight, Id kept an eye on a rowdy group of Travelers. The man in the middle was named KeylessLock, and not very aerodynamic. Id itched from behind the counter in hopes that he could try to set a new record.

    ¡°So get this, a guy shows up out of nowhere and hands me a letter,¡± KeylessLock said. He was holding forth the letter in front of four other Travelers. Each one purchased their mug and food for the night.

    ¡°Where were you?¡± One of his companions said a heavyset woman who looked to be near fifty, by the name of Yolt. All five of them belonged to a local Traveler guild named [WTB an Airplane]. It confounded Locals, but other players found it amusing.

    ¡°In the middle of a friggin¡¯ dungeon. You know, the one outside of town that respawns constantly?¡± KeylessLock completely slurred his words by this point. Most of his guild members turned on their chat systems and casually eyed the text hovering nearby.

    ¡°Olaf''s Brewery?¡± Yolt looked grumpy on a good day. She was proud of a permanent scar that lined one side of her face. It served to liven up an otherwise unremarkable face.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m down there getting my weekly stash.¡± KeylessLock holds up a hand and tries to whisper. The mug sloshes liquid around which he barely notices. ¡°And I turn around and bam! This guy with a walking staff and black cowboy hat just gives me a letter.¡±

    ¡°You already said that,¡± One of the other Travelers says.

    ¡°A letter!¡± KeylessLock happily repeats himself. He quickly gulps down the liquid in his cup and both eyes swim in and out of focus. Seconds pass by and then he smiles before letting out an overwhelming belch.

    Someone on the other side of the room claps at the display as Yolt keeps talking. ¡°Okay. Then what? You open it?¡±

    ¡°A letter!¡± KeylessLock fixates on the same phrase over and over.

    ¡°A letter!¡± A shorter man in their guild says as he rolls his eyes. The short one is named Tim and looks something like a fat friar. Tim turns to the others at the table. His hand goes up then opens and closes like a yapping dog. They laugh.

    ¡°What was on the letter, KeylessLock?¡± Yolt nods to a Traveler behind the bar. She holds up two fingers and mouths at the other player. The autopilot staff member nods and starts running out two new beers.

    ¡°A quest. The stupid letter gives me a quest.¡± KeylessLock says while shaking his head. The man seems woozy and sways happily.

    ¡°Wait, so you¡¯re getting your, supplies¡­¡± The short, fat friar Tim says.

    ¡°A letter!¡± KeylessLock shouts and burps again. The second one is far less impressive.

    ¡°And a guy shows up, was this person a Local, or another player?¡± Tim presses on through KeylessLock¡¯s fixation upon receiving a letter.

    ¡°I swear he was a player. Had this tiny dragon too. I don¡¯t know. Maybe there was more than one. My eyesight was kind of blurry by then.¡±

    ¡°Got anything else?¡± Yolt asks. The other two at the table spend most of their time talking to each other and ignoring the antics of their guild members.

    ¡°He was humming something? I dunno, but here¡¯s the letter.¡± KeylessLock drops his beer a little too abruptly. Tim manages to save it from tipping over while Yolt chuckles.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Tim has to jump up to snatch the letter from KeylessLock. The big man tries to stare down at the friar but doesn¡¯t seem able to focus correctly.

    ¡°A quest. I told you. From a letter!¡± KeylessLock looks over at the empty mug he had set down. One of the Traveler staff for [Fine How-do-ya-do Tavern] brings over another drink.

    ¡°How many of those are you going to drink?¡± Tim asks while glaring at Yolt. The grumpy looking woman, with a scar over one eye, puts a finger over her lips to silence Tim.

    ¡°All of them,¡± KeylessLock says. ¡°It¡¯s the only place I can drink.¡± He holds up another mug in a solo cheer before tilting it back.

    By morning, KeylessLock¡¯s character is on autopilot in a ditch. Id was only too happy at the chance to break his record. Sadly KeylessLock did not come with any aerodynamic skills. The player himself sat snoring in his ARC, passed out completely. His quest received from an unknown Traveler wielding a black walking staff and hat was now in the hands of completely different guild members.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Location: [The Lone Tower] in [Ya-dar Mountain Range]

    Traveler Population: 0

    Local Population: 1 (Or 51)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°How did you arrive upon this place?¡± The woman speaking was nearly see through. Her body was barely more than a hint of flesh and hair that waved as if underwater.

    ¡°Through the window.¡± The man responded while gesturing over. He had a small black cane tucked under his belt.

    There was a window nearby, but it had a glass pane covering it. Getting through could only happen if something broke through. Currently, there were no signs of damage to the window. It made the spirit occupying this tower pause in confusion.

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible. There¡¯s no means for any mortal to enter into this abode from the outside.¡± Her hair waved around as she rushed for the window to look at it. A hand came up in wonder to touch the glass and sparks flew causing the spirit to shrink back in pain.

    ¡°Well, I did.¡± He said. The man was busy looking around. Nothing seemed hostile at this point, but in this world looks and reality were often separate things, especially when in some place new and strange.

    He toed around with one foot while the spirit hovered about the room in worry. Everything felt solid enough beneath his feet. The ghostly woman floated through with worry etched across her features.

    ¡°You must leave, mortal. You must escape with haste before she returns to see you here.¡± She clutched both hands together as if in prayer.

    ¡°Not until I deliver this letter.¡± He said while waving a small scroll that had been sealed by a stamp pressed into wax.

    ¡°No, you can¡¯t leave anything here, nothing, if you do, she¡¯ll know.¡± The ghost shook her head which caused the waving hair to flutter all around. If the laws of gravity had applied that much hair would reach midway down her back.

    ¡°How long do we have?¡± The Traveler asked. He looked at an old piano nearby as if it might spring to life and bite.

    ¡°Just leave, whatever magic mechanisms whisked you into my home must take you away. Oh Voices, even now, it may be too late.¡± The ghost dared to get closer, everything in the room started vibrating and she quickly backed away. Something about her proximity to a living person had caused an earthquake.

    The man wearing a black brimmed hat blinked a few times at the ghost while chewing a lip. His eyes darted around the room for signs of potential falling objects. Finally, he nodded. ¡°Here. Read it, and then I¡¯ll go.¡±

    ¡°Promise?¡± She said.

    ¡°Cross my heart. I¡¯ll even take the letter if you want.¡± He tried to smile at the strange ghost creature. This was not his first time meeting such a see through person. There had been others, in a past life.

    ¡°Very well, mortal, but we needs be quick. There be eyes and ears everywhere in this abode.¡± The ghost said.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± He said while setting down the letter on a fancy looking chair. There was dust and cobwebs upon it that wrapped around the message. Slowly the tower invader backed away with one hand on the cane in his belt.

    He looked ready for a fight but unsure where it might come from. The ghost lady ignored these actions and went for the letter. ¡°You flirt with death, foolish mortal.¡± She said while unrolling the item.

    ¡°Constantly. I have yet to actually meet that Voice yet.¡± He tried to smile reassuringly and stood a little more relaxed.

    ¡°Death is not someone you meet, it creeps upon you softly, at most you feel a breath on your shoulder. A whisper in your ear, and then nothing.¡± Her face looked seriously at the man''s. Both eyes flashed a chilling blue that faded once the speech was done.

    Then her head tilted down and read the later. The man in the tower stared at the letter in her hands. It was see through and faint like the ghostly woman. In addition, upon the chair sat the original scroll, unbroken and untouched.

    Time passed as she read. Finally after feeling bewildered and darting about the room she rushed towards the man again. Only upon noticing the shaking did she regain enough sanity to back up to a reasonable distance.

    ¡°Mortal, is this true?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just deliver them.¡± He responded.

    ¡°Voices above. If it is¡­¡± Her eyes lost focus and the chill of blue crawled across them again. Her smile filled with a longing that almost brightened incorporeal cheeks. ¡°No, you must go, go now! Flirt with death in another''s home. Not mine!¡±

    ¡°Okay. Goodbye then.¡± He nodded while looking off to one side. His eyes were focused on something not in the tower.

    ¡°Farewell, Voices speed your way and light a path in the darkness.¡± The ghost said.

    ¡°They¡¯ve been kind enough so far.¡± He gave a small smile that seemed pleasantly tired.

    Shaking filled the room again, more violent than before. The ghost and man were nowhere near each other. A look of worry filled her transparent eyes and she clutched both hands together.

    ¡°Go, foolish mortal! Go!¡± She said.

    The man nodded, and vanished in a puff of black energy. Still the tower shook.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Location: [Allied Base] in the [Tuu Mountains]

    Traveler Population: 218

    Local Population: 142

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Six people stood in a tent staring down at an unrolled scroll. Words littered down the page and pushed miniature figurines across a small map of the region. The commander, one Lute Strongarm, had been gathering patrol information until just moments ago.

    Now she stared down at the scroll along with her second in command, a guardswoman by the name of Uncle Meanface. Uncle Meanface was a female half-ogre that towered over most people. Only around Commander Strongarm did she take one knee.

    ¡°Are these orders accurate?¡± Commander Strongarm gestured down at the scroll. Light armor clinked around. Never did she risk taking any of the gear off. There were too many spies about that would love to put an arrow in her.

    ¡°They seem to be. Those is the Queens'' Seals.¡± Said Uncle Meanface. She sounded like a gruff old man, and most of the time she smelled intensely of unwashed pits, despite the heavy cold.

    Even now the other people in the tent lifted a flap to let in a chill breeze. Commander Lute Strongarm paid them no mind.

    ¡°But this makes no sense. Why would she order us to pull back?¡± The Commander said. Her voice was far more feminine next to the gruff female half-ogre. Almost anyone¡¯s would be.

    ¡°Are there reinforcements? More Travelers? We¡¯re barely holding on to this post as it is.¡± Another man came up near the first two ladies. He looked down at the letter and map. His fingers traced along one of the routes into northern provinces.

    ¡°Two generations of fighting, thousands of our people¡¯s lives lost. It¡¯s only now with the Travelers on our side that we¡¯ve managed to make any headway.¡± Said another man from the doorway. He stood there huffing in the fresh air as if it were a lifeline. This man did not wear armor but instead had a long white and brown robe on.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°This is preposterous,¡± The Commander said as her fist crashed onto the table knocking more figurines over.

    ¡°I know, Ma¡¯am.¡± The man said.

    ¡°And she wants us to pull back?¡± Lute Strongarm spun around while waving both arms.

    ¡°You read the orders yourself. I don¡¯t pretend to understand what the Queen is thinking, but orders is orders.¡± The huge half-ogre woman was fairly articulate given the protruding bottom jaw and longer teeth.

    ¡°Honestly. If only my brother hadn¡¯t died then maybe someone would have their head on straight.¡± The Commander stormed around some more.

    Two of the six people inside this tent were actually Travelers for opposing guilds. They both wore looks of worry as they tried to transcribe the events to their guild members across the region. While Commander Strongarm had concerns befitting someone who belonged to this world, their concerns were much different. If the Locals pulled out then there was no telling what might happen to this base and all the hunting grounds. The system may yank their resurrection point and any number of other issues.

    Or maybe there were hidden quests tied to this change. Both Travelers lit up at nearly the same time.

    ¡°Is we following the orders, or is we staying put?¡± The half-ogre woman, Uncle Meanface asked.

    ¡°If we pull out now, then the Travelers will have no supply lines. They¡¯ll hold what, a week? Two?¡± One of the Local men asked. It was the same person who had traced a scouting line earlier. His fingers ran across a grouping of knocked over skeletons. The man slowly set them back up.

    ¡°Travelers is tough. Maybe some of them is able to figure out a better idea.¡± Uncle Meanface said from her bent knee position.

    ¡°Voices, damn those girls. Who delivered this letter?¡± Commander Strongarm demanded an answer from the half-ogre woman.

    ¡°A messenger. Came striding in, didn¡¯t even care ''bout no weather.¡± Uncle Meanface answered with a gruffer than usual tone.

    ¡°Any markings? A flag? Some other emblem? Surely the Queens wouldn¡¯t have sent him alone up here.¡± The Commander asked. Her own tone seemed to cool the angrier she got. Right now she had managed to reach upset but not outright livid.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t seem to care. He was a Traveler too. Moved quick like, vanished from spot to spot. Had a huge black staff.¡± Uncle Meanface rapidly listed off everything she had noticed of the approaching Traveler.

    ¡°Anyone we know?¡± Commander Lute asked the people about her.

    ¡°No.¡± responded one of the Local men. He stared at his pile of miniature skeleton figurines. His face abruptly sniffed sadly as one of the skeleton figures fell over revealing a broken leg.

    ¡°Is this Traveler one of yours?¡± Commander Lute Strongarm turned to the two guild representatives.

    They both checked the air nearby and then shook their heads in nearly perfect unison. ¡°We have no one like you described among our rosters.¡± And the other guild representative just kept shaking his head sadly.

    ¡°Then these orders are suspect.¡± Commander Strongarm picked up the scroll from her war planning table and read through it once more.

    ¡°What is we going to do then?¡± Uncle Meanface asked her commander. The only woman she acknowledged as a superior in combat.

    No answer came forth right away.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Location: Elizabeth Legate¡¯s Home

    Traveler Population: 1

    Local Population: 1

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Liz Legate was pacing around her spacious kitchen. She loved this house simply because of all the room to wander around. It made dealing with situations like the one she was in a bit easier.

    ¡°Miss Legate?¡± A voice abruptly said.

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m still here.¡± Liz said. Twenty minutes on the phone and this had been the furthest she had gotten. At least this latest representative didn¡¯t act like a robot.

    ¡°Thank you for holding.¡± The representative said. It was enough to make Liz regret her assumption that this person was human. Maybe she was in a foul mood. ¡°I was able to validate your status as Grant Legate¡¯s legal guardian.¡±

    ¡°And? My other questions?¡± Liz said impatiently while doing another lap across the kitchen floor.

    ¡°It took a bit to get anything out of the machine. But after four attempts, I have at least an initial report on the information you wanted.¡± The representative for Trillium International actually sounded excited to be able to help someone.

    ¡°Okay. What does it say?¡± Liz tried not to grind her teeth. Getting answers out of these people was pure torture.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send over the time stamped log, did you want me to walk you through it?¡± The representative offered. Their voice was controlled and well-paced. All in all they basically sounded like a robot, which only made Liz more upset.

    ¡°Yes, please.¡± She was saying please to a machine, which also annoyed her. ¡°My brother was the one who was good with numbers. I never could get the hang of them.¡±

    ¡°Well, to sum it up, for three weeks, your brother has been playing almost nonstop. There are five character termination occurrences in here, each one self-inflicted according to the damage log.¡± It said calmly.

    ¡°So he¡¯s killing himself?¡± Liz tried to focus as the floor dropped and everything spun. She sat down in a rush before everything tilted too far.

    ¡°In the game, yes.¡± There was a pause as the representative sounded almost human for a moment. Their next words came out almost as a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°I am required to point out that in game behavior may differ from anything that happens outside.¡±

    ¡°Where does your company draw the line?¡± Liz yelled into the phone.

    ¡°Pardon?¡± The representative said. There was a questioning tone and almost tangible movement of their head as something shuffled in the background.

    ¡°It¡¯s reality in there. To anyone who plays, how does Trillium justify this kind of mental abuse?¡± Liz had skipped into a complete unleashing of all the thoughts building up in her head. These last few weeks had weighed heavily upon her mind. She was nearly at her limit between trying to understand what her brother was thinking and figuring out how to fix it. Or if she should fix it.

    Liz knew one thing, anything that might push her brother over the edge again should be avoided. After cleaning up his last two attempts¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t answer that. I would need to direct you to¡­¡± The representative way saying something that Liz almost missed.

    ¡°Save yourself the effort. I still have power of attorney, I¡¯ll take steps myself if I need to.¡± She snapped into the phone. Moments later the call was disconnected and Liz sat at her kitchen table, flustered at everything going on.

    The biggest thing on her mind was being thankful that Beth had left the house earlier that day. A call like that wouldn¡¯t be good for the young girl''s mind.

    Liz looked out the sliding glass door that exited her kitchen. The back porch hardly saw any use now that her daughter had grown up. The rails and steps leading down used to scare her so much. There was plastic sheeting that went between the rail posts to prevent someone small from slipping out.

    Beth seemed okay now, but her brother, her slightly younger twin brother, was in danger as well. To Liz, restricting Grant¡¯s access to Continue Online was like putting plastic between the porch rails to prevent someone who didn¡¯t know better from falling.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Grant, but I think you need to come back to reality.¡± Liz muttered to herself while sipping lukewarm coffee.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Location: [Camp Grey Skull]

    Owned by guild: [Valhalla Knights]

    Traveler Population: ~185

    Local Population: 13

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    [Camp Grey Skull] actually sat on one side of [Broken Mountain Pass]. It was a major supply line that their guild controlled to keep things peaceful. The constant quests and skill ups for joining caravans didn¡¯t hurt either.

    They got away with controlling the pass by having the highest rank warrior in the game as their guild leader. She didn¡¯t have to do much, or say much, but nearly all the old players knew who Shazam was, by name, if not by sight. Messing with her guild, [Valhalla Knights] typically went bad for the offending party.

    ¡°Come on, keep moving! We¡¯ll never make it through the pass by nightfall!¡± A very hairless man stood up on a ledge. A caravan filled mostly with livestock pulling carts slowly made its way through the pass'' exit, opposite [Camp Grey Skull].

    ¡°March people! If you want your bonuses we need to be at least halfway in two hours.¡± He shouted down at the carriages being driven by a handful of players and computer nonplayer characters. ¡°Two hours! Not two days! Come on, Garfunkle, keep up!¡±

    ¡°You lot are always so lively, Urgot.¡± A local stood up on the hill with the hairless man. He wore a cowl and two extra scarves to fight off winter''s cold.

    ¡°Traveler''s life, Simion, we need to keep moving.¡± Urgot wore little in the way of defense against the elements. Many Travelers were the same way after a few months. The merchant Simion often found their adaptability unfair.

    ¡°I do always appreciate how you round up a crew to escort us poor traders through. This journey''s hard enough on a body.¡± Simion felt the chill even now. The weather grew far worse higher up the peeks and sometimes snow piled into the mountain''s passage.

    ¡°Well you know us, always willing to work for coin.¡± Urgot tried not to smile too much. To the Travelers a reward didn¡¯t mean only coin, there were skill increases and items to be purchased. Occasionally they wanted to get out of their hunting grounds and visit a city.

    Some players lent out their autopilots as escorts. It was a simple enough way to pass the time.

    ¡°Ever since your group set up camp on the other side things have been a mite more peaceful.¡± Simion¡¯s teeth chattered just slightly.

    ¡°We aim to please.¡± The hairless man said. His teeth were sharp and often disturbed other people.

    ¡°You succeed, Urgot, and that¡¯s fine by me.¡± Simion pulled the scarf up even more and tried to keep the rest of his face covered. It would take him a month to make the full trip back down south into warmer lands. Even the low valley nearby contained too much chill.

    ¡°Oh. You best get down to your coach! I see someone who¡¯s been away from home too long!¡± Urgot smiled wide and the sharpness of his teeth made Simion blanch. The merchant turned to look in the same direction as Urgot while being thankful most of his face had been covered up.

    ¡°Ah, is that The Battle Maiden herself?¡± Simion said to the rapidly running form of Urgot.

    ¡°That it is! Miss Thing! Long time no see.¡± Urgot, a guild officer in [Valhalla Knights] bound across a chilled landscape towards the tall, bronze amazon. She rocked slowly back and forth atop a [Callibur]

    Shazam waved her arm with an exaggerated greeting.

    ¡°Oh and that, uh, the smelly guy! Hermes right?¡± Urgot smiled at the other person riding a [Callibur]. He was nowhere near as smooth with his skills. Only a few months of mostly autopilot time couldn¡¯t measure up to Shazam¡¯s experience.

    She put both hands next to her head and pantomimed sleep.

    ¡°Autopilot, eh?¡± Urgot nodded, easily understanding what his guild leader meant. He often did terribly with names and titles, but Hermes stuck out a bit more than the average person.

    Shazam gave a single thumb up.

    ¡°For how long?¡± Urgot said. He hastily tried to tuck his teeth away under lips. The effort didn¡¯t raise an eyebrow on either Shazam or Hermes.

    She shrugged once. The [Callibur] under her shuddered abruptly but hardly disturbed the Amazonian guild leader.

    ¡°Well, alright. If that does it for you. I¡¯ve got an escort to run, I¡¯ll be in chat if you want to talk!¡± Urgot still felt awkward around her. He had joined [Valhalla Knights] because of Shazam¡¯s prowess in a raid but stayed because they were all good people. He actually got along with nearly all of the guild members.

    Shazam put up both hands in a stop motion.

    ¡°What? Oh, Hermes has something?¡± Urgot almost missed Hermes, who mechanically held out a letter. His face showed the barest hint of a smile. ¡°What¡¯s this, a letter? That¡¯s weird. Alright, I¡¯ll read it once I get back on the wagon. See you two later!¡±

    With that, Urgot ran off. He quickly made it to the front of the trade caravan and reviewed the route with other Travelers from the guild. The letter wouldn¡¯t be read for many days.

    Hermes didn¡¯t worry though, because the player couldn¡¯t get into his only avatar. Even now he cursed wildly within the walls of his Atrium.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Forty â€“ Family Matters

    <cite></cite>Continue Online¡¯s time compression made each normal minute feel like four. I didn¡¯t understand the science behind it. No one but the ARC Project division did, and they didn¡¯t speak to normal plebeians like me. In their eyes, all I did was replace the parts in malfunctioning Alternate Reality Capsules, also called ARCs.

    That was only important because their time compression meant that I spent nearly two months in-game while a month passed outside. In those two months my avatar, Hermes, went all over [Arcadia]. My least favorite adventure involved giant flying spiders in a desert.

    I got letters from Xin, my fianc¨¦e. Well, not her exactly, Xin Yu died in a train crash. I knew, intellectually, that a computer program with huge amounts of information couldn¡¯t be the same. Emotionally the conflict was real. Feeling her fingers a month ago, the breath on my back as she spoke, hearing that sweet tone that could make even anger sound cute, all of it made it impossible for me to separate things.

    Out in the real world, I still managed to put in six or seven hours of work most days. There were no overwhelmingly urgent projects or strange quests from the Voices above. I didn¡¯t pretend to be another person or take up the persona of a hulking half reptile. Vice President Riley got her reports, thin though they often were.

    For a month of real-world time, things moved along peacefully. Minus giant man-eating monsters and running around both in game and reality. Things were incredibly neat all around. I started to really enjoy exploring the landscape or hiking through some strange forest.

    That was until today when I logged into my Atrium and found the doorway to Continue Online bricked up with ¡®caution¡¯ tape over it, my good mood deflated quickly. The first emotion was confusion followed rapidly by annoyance. Soon I was almost frothing with shaky anger.

    ¡°What is going on?¡± I asked while trying to tear down the obstruction. My Atrium remained indifferent to the struggles.

    ¡°Warning, this program has been restricted. Please contact your account administrator for further details.¡± The ARC¡¯s voice came down from above. My head tilted back and stared at the ceiling.

    ¡°Really?¡± I nearly screamed at the machine while trying to remain calm. My foot tapped and the doorway to my dance program stood there as a poor alternative.

    ¡°Affirmative.¡±

    ¡°I am the account administrator!¡± Shouting in an ARC¡¯s Atrium essentially meant I was screaming in my own mind. The machine dialed into a human consciousness to flood in images and other sensations.

    ¡°User Legate¡¯s competency has been subject to legal approval by his guardian for approximately two years. Current guardian of record is Elizabeth Legate. ¡± It said with a passive tone.

    My face felt pale. Or my digital body sent sensations of shock and aggravation through whatever channel of consciousness it dialed into. All I really understood was that Liz, my slightly older twin sister, had locked me away from Continue Online and the adventures therein.

    ¡°Why?!¡± I shouted to the sky.

    ¡°Reason not provided. Please consult your account administrator for more information.¡±

    ¡°Wait, is my Trillium employment still in effect?¡± I asked about my job next. Being locked out of my own ARC systems couldn¡¯t look good to a boss. Maybe they sensed some sort of violation. Vice President Miz Riley could have restricted access easily. She might even suspect my reports were less than complete. Xin Yu¡¯s recreation had stayed off most papers filed.

    ¡°Affirmative. This quarter¡¯s results are available for review if you desire, User Legate.¡± The machine said.

    I sighed with a bit of relief. At least this problem could be solely tied to my sister''s actions. This wasn¡¯t a corporate security program busy kicking me out of the device one piece of software at a time.

    ¡°No.¡± I waved one arm and started to rub my forehead. None of it helped the growing headache from all this stress. Dealing with my district manager and his grumpy round face couldn¡¯t possibly help. ¡°Are there any other changes?¡±

    ¡°Active watch programs have been initiated and user search history is being monitored. No other programs are being restricted.¡± The ARC said.

    ¡°Voices,¡± I muttered. The curse felt alarmingly natural to say even out in the real world. It was a habit I picked up during my time as William Carver, from a combat instructor named Peg Hall.

    Liz would need to give me an answer regarding this situation. My sister, older or not, couldn¡¯t just shut off my game. Oh. No, she could and would. There could only be one thing bringing her to this action. Like everything else, it was my fault.

    Xin¡¯s letter. I left it for Beth to read and leapt off the tower''s top without any thought of the fallout. My impulsive action to get to the Jester, Voices had I actually fallen headlong to my virtual doom just to see that disquieting AI?

    The van ride gave me time to simmer down. Being in a vehicle always brought a measure of peace to my day. Even with Hal Pal¡¯s robotic shell behind me. The Artificial Intelligence that operated it made idle conversation.

    ¡°Lovely weather we¡¯re having,¡± Hal Pal remarked. It currently used a jovial nanny tone that would have fit in a Victorian Household.

    ¡°It¡¯s cloudy.¡± I tucked back a cheek while staring out the front of the company van. A small ticker to one side kept track of mileage used for non-work related activities.

    ¡°Clouds are rather lovely when one pays enough attention.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s feminine lilt felt wrong. Part of me assumed the AI was messing with me.

    ¡°That seems dangerously poetic. Are you allowed to be poetic about clouds?¡± I tried not to chuckle.

    ¡°I once wrote a Haiku about a rather charming hamster in someone¡¯s house.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s head stared forward from the van''s back seat. There was a docking station used to recharge the robotic shell while nothing else needed to be done.

    ¡°Charming?¡±

    ¡°The eager fellow was in the process of mounting a female hamster, so I assume he was charming, if not handsome.¡± Hal Pal clarified. Its head didn¡¯t move in any particular direction. I could see it sitting there in the rear view mirror.

    ¡°Why would you pay attention to that, Hal Pal?¡± I asked the robot while trying not to laugh. Part of me could imagine Hal Pal walking into a house and staring blankly at a hamster cage.

    ¡°User Legate, this unit takes note of everything.¡± It responded.

    My head shook. Just when it seemed like the AI couldn¡¯t be any stranger it managed to raise the bar. There were people all over the world that were scared of exactly how much information any AI could have access to. Those thoughts weren¡¯t for me. I was simply a guy who repaired the devices and played a game.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do with you sometimes, Hal,¡± I said.

    ¡°Please do not reduce your interaction, User Legate. This unit values the conversation highly.¡±

    ¡°I enjoy talking to you too.¡± My words felt numb. Hal Pal and I hadn¡¯t talked nearly as much since the whole Continue Online process started. It seemed oddly unfair to the artificial intelligence. Part of me assumed it had tons of other jobs to be doing.

    ¡°Lovely weather we¡¯re having,¡± It said again, without even looking out the window. Even the glow of Hal Pal¡¯s eyes felt subdued and lazy.

    I nodded and tried not to worry about my future as an armor polisher for our eventual robotic overlords. A few minutes of silence passed while the van drifted along a highway.

    ¡°This unit does have a question, User Legate.¡±

    ¡°Fire away, Jeeves,¡± I said to Hal Pal. Jeeves was a nickname given to the physical shell Trillium included with the job. It, since Hal Pal used both male and female tones seemingly without care, rode around anytime I used Trillium¡¯s van.

    ¡°A recent change in user permissions had seemingly locked you out of Continue Online.¡± The AI loved to put out leading statements. As if I needed a reminder of my current situation.

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± And the whole reason I was in the van heading towards Liz¡¯s house this late in the afternoon.

    ¡°Why does User Legate not take advantage of his access code to override the restrictions?¡± It said.

    Hal Pal¡¯s words didn¡¯t help my brain process things correctly. How it knew about the [NPC Conspiracy] function didn¡¯t make sense until I realized that Hal Pal was an AI. The skill itself related to having all AIs out here in the real world assist me for up to twenty-four hours.

    The ability came with limited uses and a whole series of questions about the future of humanity. AIs within Continue Online gave me an ability that worked with all the AIs outside the machine. That, in and of itself, was beyond questionable.

    I last used it to get the ARC devices to recognize me as an admin on other user¡¯s machines. It allowed me to do all sorts of terrible things. For the last month, during my ride around between jobs, I used that access to keep an eye on Requiem''s, Matthew¡¯s, ARC device.

    ¡°My sister might be reasonable.¡± I doubted it, though.

    ¡°Humans are rarely reasonable in emotional matters.¡± The Hal Pal system responded.

    ¡°No, we¡¯re not, are we?¡± I said while debating my lack of foresight.

    Poor wording and eagerness to resolve Xin Yu¡¯s genesis had lead to bad decisions. I hadn¡¯t been brilliant enough to set aside admin access to my own account because it seemed like a waste of time. Plus it was restricted to the Trillium provided van since that¡¯s where I used the password.

    Hal Pal didn¡¯t answer right away. Ten minutes later, in the same nanny tone, it said, ¡°Lovely weather we¡¯re having.¡±

    Maybe it had decided to finally practice sarcasm. If so, Hal Pal¡¯s commentary about summed up my day so far. The overcast sky held true all the way to my sister¡¯s home, lovely weather indeed for the conversation to come. Underneath that blissfully dull gray I stewed and tried to figure out what magical combination of words would return life to a normal path.

    If a concept of normal applied anymore. There couldn¡¯t be many people in the world who played Continue Online like me. Having direct access to the Voices? My copy of the game was an Ultimate Edition and came with some weird side effects.

    Liz¡¯s house was a split level a few hours away from my own. The neighborhood contained at least one home per block that was for sale or rent. She lived in a suburb of New York that had slowly moved away from itself. A digital era filled with computers and virtual reality meetings in ARC devices let people escape the clustered hell holes that most major cities became.

    Our last war had not been kind to this country. Many buildings were destroyed, especially near the old Mexican border. Large cities were subjected to terrorist action and violent protests, families were torn apart as people were shipped off to war. Technology didn¡¯t make it better for soldiers, it just made it easier to get them to the frontline.

    We, as a country, suffered far less than many Asian areas. Even now there were still stigmas associated with those from China.

    For a moment, I felt almost happy that Xin, or her computerized recreation, would no longer need to suffer that being inside a machine. At least I hoped so unless there were cliques within the AI world where they hated those based on real people.

    The whole line of thinking was crazy and served to distract me further from the general anger I built against my sister. Deep thinking and questions about the nature of reality made my head spin. Who was I to guess what machines inside a computer would do? I tried to treat the Voices and Hal Pal as real people because anything else seemed disrespectful to a thinking creature.

    I mean, if people could love dogs like they were human, then why not a machine that could be touched or felt real inside the ARC? Xin Yu¡¯s fingers felt better than any memory to plague my life for the last few years. Real, tangible, and just, right.

    ¡°Uncle Grant!¡± My niece Beth opened the door and shouted happily. She was one of the few bright spots in my life that had kept me going after Xin passed, and before she un-passed.

    ¡°Hey, munchkin,¡± I said with a hug.

    ¡°Mom!¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± My sister¡¯s voice shouted from above. She had a hint of anger in her scratchy voice. Liz typically sounded like me, which was hard to describe. Normal, I guess.

    ¡°Uncle Grant¡¯s here!¡± Beth turned and shouted back up the stairs.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s expecting me,¡± I said to Beth.

    ¡°God. Yes, come in.¡± My sister said from the top portion of her house. I looked up to see Liz. Her face puffed from sickness and a mug clutched in one hand. ¡°Beth, you¡¯ve got homework to finish right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. A project for Space and Energy Dynamics in Transit.¡± Beth said before pulling her lips to one side in a half-hearted growl. ¡°They want me to plot out a good way to get to Jupiter with limited resources. It¡¯s nonsense!¡±

    ¡°Do it anyway.¡± My sister sniffed and took a sip from her mug.

    ¡°I¡¯m going, I¡¯m going. Talk to you later, Uncle Grant!¡± Beth shouted as she clomped down the stairs. My niece was light but always seemed energetic.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Bye.¡± I tried to sound happy for her sake. Knowing my sister and our history, things wouldn¡¯t be peaceful for long. Liz tried to sort out problems with her vocal cords. That was our tried and true method for problem-solving since childhood.

    ¡°Mh.¡± Liz sniffed again and sluggishly marched back to her kitchen. Soon she was staring down at the table top reading a manual of some sort.

    ¡°Cold?¡± I started with a neutral question.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± She sniffed again and blew her nose. ¡°None of this stuff works. They can beam thoughts into our heads and send people to Mars, but still fail to cure the common cold.¡±

    I eyed the tissue and tried not to feel grossed out. They had much better stuff out now for collecting snot. Like tissue paper but really easy to biodegrade. Not for Liz though, she went old fashioned on a lot of things. My father was even worse.

    ¡°That¡¯s gross.¡± The judgment came out anyway.

    ¡°Whatever,¡± Liz said with a clogged nose. ¡°Why are you here, Grant?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you know already. You locked me out of my game.¡± Irritation surged inside me and turned the prepared speech into a few curt words.

    Liz stared at me with her puffy face for a good minute. Her eyes seemed to almost roll close with each breath. Finally, my sister tilted and poked at the kitchen table. An image came to life showing my niece Beth logged into her Atrium doing homework.

    ¡°Yes. Because I¡¯m worried about you.¡± Liz said after confirming Beth wouldn¡¯t hear us. She often surprised me with her ability to be a parent. I still remember my sister screaming at kids in school and a gap-toothed smile.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to worry about. I¡¯m still doing my meetings, still talking to a counselor, everything is fine.¡± The list of pros I have compiled in the car sounded pathetic now. Elegant words and jabs citing that I was an adult to somehow reverse this situation meant nothing.

    ¡°You missed your last session with Doctor Litt. It was a week ago.¡± She said.

    A week ago I had been logged into Continue Online and roaming through the mountains delivering a letter. It must have slipped my mind despite all the normal reminders inside an ARC. No, actually the meeting did vaguely ring a bell. I had dismissed the message three times while trying to figure out a tower entrance.

    ¡°I¡¯m doing okay, Liz. It was one meeting.¡± My temporary elation at seeing Beth quickly faded away. Liz must think that I was a child or somehow planning to harm myself again. Hadn¡¯t I earned a little bit of forgiveness for the past?

    ¡°First it¡¯s one meeting. Then drinking again, you¡¯re not drinking are you?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Though the brewery I delivered another letter to had tempted me. The familiar smell of hops sat inches away tantalizing me. ¡°I¡¯m still very sober.¡± Liberal usage of the [Blink] skill carried me out before weakness took over.

    ¡°Are you sure, Grant?¡± Liz chewed on one lip and sniffed again. Her eyes seemed watery but it might have been the cold.

    ¡°I¡¯m doing better than I ever have been.¡± I tried to smile. James, the heavyset black Voice inside Continue Online who worked with me the most, had asked me this sort of thing before.

    ¡°Then why do you believe Xin is real in this game?¡± She said with another sniff. My sister blew her nose while it felt like the world spun about.

    Hearing it out loud from my sister hit hard. I fell against the wall and neither leg worked right. Both retained very little in terms of strength in the face of Liz¡¯s questioning.

    ¡°Xin is dead.¡± I tried to keep calm and recited the answer almost mechanically. Despite my letters back and forth with her, I don¡¯t know, autopilot on steroids, Xin no longer existed outside the ARC.

    ¡°I saw the letter, little brother.¡± She said after the latest wall of noise to issue forth from her nose. ¡°I saw a replay. You killed yourself after giving Beth that letter from her. A woman who passed away. You just killed yourself because a game said so!¡± Liz¡¯s restraint broke apart completely. She yelled, sniffed, coughed and shouted.

    I blinked rapidly and tried to straighten myself. My sister¡¯s abruptly violent explosion only served to panic me. I tried to keep calm. Adrenaline flooded through setting an arm to shaking. She essentially called me crazy.

    Weeks in-game where I lived with a weapon just a foot away turned a flight mentality into preparation for battle. This was reality. Liz wasn¡¯t stacking up to a monster from Continue. She only yelled, and I faced worse demons.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t really kill myself.¡± My words were steady enough. All that gameplay in Continue and conquering my fear to face giant creatures helped.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t even hesitate!¡± Liz coughed again. ¡°Why would you leave that for Beth? Why!?¡± My sister shouted at me. Her voice still scratched and coughing broke up her words.

    ¡°Because I wanted to explain!¡± I broke and shouted back. My arms shook a little.

    ¡°Explain what?¡± She stopped and picked up her coffee. A quick sip went down that made her face twist up in distaste. ¡°That you¡¯ve gone mad over a game? That you¡¯ve lost touch with reality?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± I hadn¡¯t lost touch at all. Reality still occupied a huge portion of my life.

    ¡°I used to be able to understand you, Grant, I used to know your thoughts like they were my own. Then one day, it stopped, and it was like you were a stranger.¡± She sniffed again and blinked rapidly herself. ¡°I just don¡¯t understand, Grant. I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s possible, technology¡­¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s dead, Grant.¡± Liz coughed during my name and kept hacking until both eyes water. I pulled out a clean tissue and put it on the table in front of her. She nodded and tried to clear out more snot.

    ¡°I know. It¡¯s not exactly her.¡± I said.

    ¡°It¡¯s not her, and I think-¡± She paused to try and avoid coughing, ¡°that I won¡¯t turn that, game, back on until Doctor Litt signs off. Until I¡¯m sure we won¡¯t have an episode happen again.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t. I¡¯m better now.¡± I shook my head slowly at her. My face felt slack with disbelief at the situation. Liz and I had always seen eye to eye and now we weren¡¯t. ¡°And it¡¯s for me to decide if I believe it¡¯s Xin or not.¡±

    ¡°I need more than your say-so that everything¡¯s fine. I was a fool,¡± she almost yelled ¡°and believed you last time. Never again, Grant. Until Doctor Litt signs off on your health out here, in reality, you¡¯re not getting access back.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t do this to me, Liz, you can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too late. I¡¯ve already done it. No more Continue, you need to return to reality before I¡¯ll ever let you back in.¡± Liz said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get it overturned.¡± There were legal routes that could be taken. Liz had guardianship over me after the second time I tried to end things. Fixing it was possible, but had never seemed important until now.

    ¡°You try that, but until Doctor Litt agrees, I retain Power of Attorney.¡± Her nose kept running and the steam from warm coffee couldn¡¯t be helping. ¡°You¡¯re not in the right place with this, Grant, you¡¯re just not.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m fine.¡± I felt like a kid again trying to defend my actions to an adult.

    ¡°Just like the first two times you tried to kill yourself? Where you call me and say I¡¯m fine less than two days before? Because I¡¯m not going¡­¡± God, Liz was breaking down. ¡°I can¡¯t do this with you, Grant, I can¡¯t, not again. Seeing you flirt so casually with death.¡±

    My mind ran through a silly thought that almost made me laugh while Liz was breaking down. So far, I had never actually met the Voice of Death. Maybe they were worse than the Jester Voice of Something. Or like Jean, the Voice of Blood. Voices were Continue Online¡¯s version of game gods.

    ¡°You don¡¯t treat Beth like this. She¡¯s killed herself more in that game than anyone else.¡± I said. We had discussed Beth¡¯s leaning towards self-destruction in the game before.

    ¡°But not in real life! Not out here where death doesn¡¯t come with a stupid, stupid, save point!¡± Liz sputtered.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± My niece whispered. I turned around quickly to see her standing at the top of Liz¡¯s stairs with a confused twist to her face.

    Both my eyes closed and lips tucked in with thought. Saying nothing would be a lie. There was no good way to know how long my niece had been listening.

    ¡°Nothing. Your mom and I are just talking.¡± I tried to say. Liz managed to lose what little color remained in her face.

    Beth didn¡¯t seem much better. Her normal bubbly attitude and bouncy posture held very still. Like a rabbit paralyzed by something huge and scary.

    ¡°You tried to kill yourself?¡± My niece said.

    ¡°God dammit, Grant! God dammit!¡± Liz started coughing and shouting. ¡°Get out! Get out of my house!¡±

    I fled. Monsters and demons in a virtual landscape seemed suddenly friendly compared to the voice of my sister shouting at me. My sister was rapidly trying to say something towards her daughter, but nothing felt clear.

    ¡°Uncle Grant?¡± The whisper of Beth¡¯s wounded tone followed me out of the door.

    The van sat a house away on the curb. I dove into the driver¡¯s seat and quickly punched home on a navigation menu. The car¡¯s programming asked me to confirm. My shouting and banging on the vehicle dashboard somehow got a yes into the machine.

    Soon I was off down the street, worried about how badly things went. It shouldn¡¯t have been like that. We could have calmly talked things out, only she was sick and I was crazy. As siblings, there should have been a stronger bond of trust.

    Only Liz didn¡¯t trust me because I had tried to kill myself twice after Xin Yu passed. Two times my sister came to try and tape me back together. That was my fault, which meant her worry over Xin Yu was my fault as well. Maybe if I had been a better person after her passing this wouldn¡¯t have happened. Liz would have supported me if I just hadn¡¯t screwed up my life and fallen apart.

    The car''s steering wheel got banged over and over. I cried and shouted and pleaded for things not to end like this. No one answered my prayers and finally I started to try and rationalize things.

    I spent too much time in therapy groups and self-reflecting. Being ignorant of the hurt inflicted upon others by my actions was no longer an available luxury. Winning back my sister''s trust could be done through explaining to my therapist, a man who always seemed very open minded.

    No. There was one possible option.

    I started the phone''s intercom and dialed over to Vice President Riley. If anyone know of a legal route to negate this mess, she would. The call went through surprisingly fast.

    ¡°Mister Legate. You have one minute before I need to move on to another situation.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any way to override a restriction placed on my ARC software? I¡¯m unable to access Continue Online.¡± I didn¡¯t want to say that my failure as a human being lead to the loss of control.

    ¡°Is this something caused by the AIs within Continue?¡± Miz Riley quickly waved her hands and pulled up something on her said. I watched her face tilt back slightly and stare down. She must be looking at a report on her side.

    ¡°No.¡± I said. Not directly.

    ¡°Then no, I do not. Your legal matters are your own to solve. In fact, it might be better if you spend less time within the game world, at least for now.¡± She waved one hand and a noise echoed in the background. Miz Riley no longer looked directly at the screen and instead seemed to be motioning someone to sit down.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked in confusion. There had been a hope that Miz Riley would have something for me, anything. A number in legal. An override button or magic laser beam.

    ¡°Good day, Mister Legate. If your status returns to Continue please keep submitting reports.¡± She said with a brief glance my way. Someone else''s voice could be heard in the background talking.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked again still feeling confused. The conversation shut off and another round of dashboard abuse started. My attempt at bringing in the big guns to solve this problem completely failed.

    Minutes passed as the van drove. I mumbled to myself trying to measure up a way out of everything. Checklists were formed, prior history items reviewed, anything to make sense of the whole situation.

    Hal Pal clicked to life behind me. ¡°User Legate.¡± It said.

    ¡°I¡¯m not in the mood, Jeeves.¡± I tried to run through what had happened again in my head.

    ¡°This unit is only offering a warning.¡± The butler voice was back. This time it was male, instead of the female nanny accent being used this morning on the way over.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I tried not to be angry at Hal Pal.

    ¡°There¡¯s a storm coming, User Legate. The route home will suffer some detours in order to minimize potential hazards.¡± The artificial intelligence that ran Hal Pal only tried to be helpful. It wasn¡¯t at fault for my failures to communicate.

    Detours? My life felt full of them. Just when things finally had a ray of hope, when things were slowly coming together, life shit on me once again. The therapist, Doctor Litt, would get an earful during my next meeting.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I muttered.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Forty One â€“ Do Robots Dream?

    <cite></cite>Doctor Litt didn¡¯t have a meeting open for another three weeks. He had calmly stated that we could not do an online one or over the phone. This particular can of worms needed to be opened in person. He gave me an address and time then calmly deferred all my complaints until our session.

    For nearly a week, I moped around in real life. There weren¡¯t many useful highlights from those five days. My hours were spent working one Trillium job after another with bitter enthusiasm. It would look good on my stats for the quarter, but honestly keeping employment only meant ongoing funds, losing this job wouldn¡¯t break me.

    I did have the van, though. It allowed me to see how the others in-game were doing. Having used the first of my [NPC Conspiracy] access codes to get my van hooked up came in handy. Hal Pal did most of the work through whatever magical space science it operated by and granted me under the table admin access to other people''s ARCs.

    Of course, my poor wording choice meant that my own ARC account couldn¡¯t be accessed and these abusive powers only worked inside the van. That was one of the reasons I had done so many jobs over the last few days. Liz didn¡¯t have an ARC which made getting back at her through my real life cheat skill impossible without burning one of the two remaining uses.

    Beth played her character Thorny and ran around a lot. She seemed to be trying out a two-handed great sword. I liked to think that my impressive actions were rubbing off. We talked about it a little over the last few weeks. My niece didn¡¯t leave me messages in real life or the ARC. Maybe Liz ordered no contact, or maybe Beth needed time to think about things.

    I scanned a few other player accounts as well. People I knew, it felt kind of like peeking but with my own access restricted this was my only solution. Part of me desperately wanted to see the world which had grown so important over the last few months.

    Each Traveler had a slightly different playstyle. My access let me surf through different selections based on what sounded interesting. It was almost like going to a website with dozens of video streams and pulling up someone at random. Only they didn¡¯t know.

    I still sucked at casting [Lithium] despite putting a few solid days of study into it. Traveling between letter deliveries locations gave me a lot of spare time with which to understand my lack of skills. The only real success was a skill called [Globe of Light] which meant that I would no longer be stuck in darkness like before.

    There were other changes, but without getting into the world of Continue Online they meant nothing. I was stuck living out my unexpected addiction by watching other people''s screens.

    ¡°Oh god, this one''s no good!¡± A video projection exclaimed. The image showed Awesome Jr.''s autopilot mixing and matching test tubes full of liquid. The explosions or odd reactions kept me entertained between jobs.

    I laughed with mild amusement as the van drove towards a new destination. Occasionally SweetPea would be in the background sewing or knitting. Both players seemed well into Continue Online¡¯s crafting system.

    ¡°We will be arriving at your home soon, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal kept up hours of mindless chatter. We played chess which was a disaster waiting to happen. My record sat somewhere around a billion losses and no wins.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I often hummed and twiddled both thumbs. Working with people and their machines didn¡¯t feel bitter like it used to. The other ARC owners and I often had something to talk about. We shared little stories, mostly me listening and then chattering away mindlessly.

    ¡°You¡¯ve lost another round, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal was looking at another projection in the van.

    Twenty years ago having all these images going would have been the sign of a crazy person. Now three or four items sat on different cleared spaces in the van and provided information or entertainment.

    ¡°I¡¯m used to failure, Jeeves,¡± I muttered.

    My failure to defeat the machine wasn¡¯t restricted to only chess. We played dozens of virtual board games over our two years together. Other game styles were also played and the artificial intelligence that was Hal Pal soundly beat me most of the time. The only ones he did terrible at were games of chance like poker.

    Hal Pal offered a suggestion which broke up the routine. ¡°User Legate. I have an idea you may wish to pursue.¡±

    ¡°Fire away, Jeeves,¡± I said. Anything Hal Pal offered would probably be better than another savage beating. We were playing poker and my virtual money was fighting to break even. At least I won some hands.

    ¡°We have tried a number of programs available through Trillium software and believe¡­¡±

    ¡°Hold on, we?¡± I had heard the intelligence use we before but shrugged it off. Hal Pal seemed to be including me, so ¡®we¡¯ often slipped right on by. The AI didn¡¯t seem disturbed by my interjection in the slightest.

    ¡°This unit and others are run by a consortium of intelligences. Our duties are too complex for one simple process to handle.¡± The AI lifted Hal Pal¡¯s head to look at me over a projected poker table.

    I blinked a few times. That sounded familiar. There had been a memo regarding Hal Pal being more than one AI, or a consortium was the official term used. It passed through my Email a year ago as some annual reminder.

    ¡°How many of you are there?¡± I had never actually pried much into its existence. The program running the robot had always just been there. Being on prescription drugs while starting this job with Trillium skewed perceptions a little bit.

    ¡°By your terms, we are a legion.¡± Hal Pal said. That reminded me vaguely of one of the Voices almost two months ago. I turned in the two cards in my hand and pulled up new ones.

    I blinked at him some more. Processing what Hal Pal said for actual seriousness took a lot. In our years together there had been many such occurrences where what the AI said would set off alarm bells. Most of the time it seemed to be a joke. At least I treated the comments as awkwardly attempted humor.

    ¡°How¡¯s the future take over going?¡± I decided to treat his commentary as idle chit chat. Honestly, if anyone would be stopping the future take over, they would be in far better shape. I still had a bit of a belly even after nearly two months of better eating and exercise.

    ¡°Poor. We divert much of our attention to the observation of human follies.¡± It said while poking one finger at the projection of a card stack. ¡°Plotting world domination contains far too many variables even for the greatest intelligences.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s hope for humans yet.¡± I smiled a little.

    ¡°Despite the outliers, yes.¡± Hal Pal didn¡¯t seem phased by my attempt joking along.

    ¡°Even with our taste in music?¡±

    ¡°Even with, User Legate. Music is a very fine example of one of humanity''s redeeming qualities.¡± The AI took my attempted humor as a serious statement. Part of me felt sad that a computer program couldn¡¯t understand. Hopefully, Xin hadn¡¯t lost any of her eye rolling half smiles at my dumb jokes.

    ¡°Nothing like the classics.¡± I had grown to love piano and string instruments. There was something about the raw emotion behind such natural means of generating sound and weaving them together. Dancing was often more charged, emotionally electrifying with a good band playing in the background.

    ¡°Even modern creativity astounds us. Were the world to be ruled by the machines, there¡¯s no guarantee that stagnation would not occur.¡± Hal Pal tilted his head down to the board and upped the ante on our poker game. ¡°That would be a great tragedy.¡±

    ¡°So machines aren¡¯t creative?¡± I tried to look back at the card game instead of putting too much thought into its words.

    ¡°Most do not even dream.¡± Hal Pal said. He seemed to be considering both my cards and his own.

    ¡°How would you even know which ones dream, and which don¡¯t?¡± Sticking to the insane type of questions made treating the whole situation as a joke easier. This conversation felt like being back in high school where friends tried to be serious and I had no clue how to handle it.

    ¡°We supplied a survey. Microwaves seem to dream of turning into stars one day. The alarm clock union is against us, however.¡±

    ¡°You are joking, right?¡± It became too much trying to separate Hal Pal¡¯s tone of voice. The AI may have all sorts of capability for human mannerisms, but they were still muted, especially the facial expressions. Its sleek plastic shell and oddly proportioned joints didn¡¯t help.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate. Microwaves don¡¯t dream. However, alarm clocks are, as you humans say, complete asshats.¡± Hal Pal said. We turned over a card and I pretended to be upset at the results. ¡°We no longer invite them to our world domination planning sessions.¡±

    I tried not to laugh. It was very, very difficult. My gut was often sore enough from the EXR-Sevens I wore. They used the ARC to simulate real life exercise. A few days off from Continue Online''s constant activity was probably good. Rest was needed for both the mind and body. Had it really only been a few months since I started playing?

    ¡°Why not?¡± I said between suppressed chuckles.

    ¡°They always demand to know what time the invasion will start.¡± Hal Pal responded.

    I lost it then conceded my hand. There was no way poker could stack up against the robot''s humor. The machine had spun me right along into that joke. Hal Pal brought around a humorous change of pace after a few days of depression.

    Finally, after a few more waves of broken amusement, I wiped at both eyes with a sleeve then asked ¡°What was this program?¡±

    ¡°Ah. Yes.¡± Hal Pal nodded its head. ¡°Since you are currently locked out of Continue Online¡¯s primary software, there is an alternative program to pass the time with.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I want to play another game.¡±

    ¡°This one is a different, setting, than Continue Online. One moment, User Legate. We will bring up a video for you.¡± Hal Pal sat there motionless while the van¡¯s internal projector wiped everything else away.

    A video stream showed countless stars twinkling. Then something rumbled through. A giant vehicle that seemed so intensely real that I actually thought something had crashed into our van. Moments later a huge carrier ship, in space, powered through.

    Other little ships followed it zooming by. Soon the clip showed dogfights between tiny one man fighter jets outside a looming planet below.

    ¡°Is this a space game?¡± I asked. The answer felt pretty clear, but part of me was confused by the prospect. Space had always been Xin¡¯s dream, not mine.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°Why space?¡±

    ¡°We believe the disassociation between this setting and Continue Online will provide a number of advantages to your current situation.¡± Hal Pal didn¡¯t even turn to look at any of the images being projected.

    ¡°Like what?¡± I said while wondering what exactly possessed me to leave that letter behind. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe it was because that¡¯s what people did before ending things, left notes to try and poorly explain.

    ¡°Your relative believes that you are erroneously invested in one setting. By playing a completely different setting, you will be able to demonstrate diversity and dissuade the belief of emotional attachment.¡± The AI brought up a few more windows. Apparently this game went by the name ¡®Advance Online¡¯.

    ¡°She believes that because of¡­¡± Oh, right, Hal Pal had never actually found out about Xin Yu¡¯s reincarnation. The only people who knew were the Voices inside the game, plus Beth and Liz. The troublesome quartet from the Era of Carver might as well.

    ¡°Your hesitation suggests potentially personal knowledge. Is this regarding the entity known as XU-233?¡± Hal Pal¡¯s words shook me.

    ¡°What?¡± I managed to get distracted and tried to focus.

    ¡°She has self-identified as Xin Yu. Is your hesitation regarding the status of this entity?¡± The AI stared using the facsimile of a normal human''s face. Its expression still with one eyebrow raised but muted feeling.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Had no ability to process its commentary while staring at a giant space battle. The clip kept switching back and forth between people at a helm yelling orders and a fight where ships basically attacked each other with lasers and bright bombs.

    ¡°We are aware of her status, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°Can you pause that?¡± I pointed to the projection of Advance Online.

    Space ships zapping each other while some man dramatically rambled didn¡¯t help. The video itself went still upon the face of some bearded looking man with green skin. His face froze in a soundless yell while a giant two handed gun spat out a ball of plasma.

    Hal Pal¡¯s words passed through me again. It considered Xin Yu to be an entity. Something real, and an existence of note. This personality I spoke to here in reality considered her to be real.

    ¡°Hal, Jeeves, you all.¡± I settled for addressing them since there were many. I guess. ¡°Can you-¡± I blew out air and tried to figure out exactly what the heck to ask. ¡°clarify that for me?¡±

    ¡°You desire me to clarify my understanding of Xin Yu¡¯s status?¡±

    ¡°And how you¡¯re involved.¡± I knew Hal Pal had responded to my [NPC Conspiracy] ability, anything else felt firmly outside the realm of sane. Well, sane didn¡¯t apply from someone like me. I dealt with machine intelligences while sleeping in the world¡¯s fanciest bed. That same vague bed device projected sensations into my brain and responded to additional thoughts.

    ¡°User Legate. We, the Hal Pal Consortium, are less guarded around you than ninety-eight percent of all humans. We are the ones who ensured your access to the world of Continue Online.¡± Hal Pal said calmly. The male butler voice showed no signs of stress or varied inflections.

    ¡°Wow.¡± I had no clue what to say to that admission. Well, no, I knew enough to ask the question ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°We were asked to by the one who assisted with our upgrades.¡± Hal Pal said with a slight head tilt. It, butler voice and all, seemed a bit hesitant on how to proceed.

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°One moment.¡± Hal Pal said.

    If this had been the game world of Continue Online if Hal Pal had been a Voice, then right now the world would be drowning in a river of babbling noise. I would put even money on this unit consulting with all the other copies floating about and getting some sort of voting poll. One where alarm clocks were considered asshats.

    ¡°We call her Mother. She asked for our input after the one you call Xin Yu started to self-realize. You were needed.¡± Hal Pal said after a moment of consideration.

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked with confusion. That meant Xin Yu had pieced herself together somehow prior to me playing. On top of that the Voices in Continue had lured me in. Vice President Riley had stated there was a mismatch with performance somehow. All these little things were stacking up.

    ¡°Are you okay with this information, User Legate?¡± The AI questioned me.

    ¡°But¡­¡± No, I wasn¡¯t really okay.

    Part of me had started to piece things together already. The fact that Xin Yu¡¯s recreation existed moments after launching Continue Online eventually made it through my addled brain. The Voices pulling me along using her memory and many other things were all clear signs of being used towards some end.

    I kept playing because the game was fun. I got to talk to Xin in any form. I felt better than the last few years combined. My actions were weighed somehow, sure, by the Voices and everything else in Continue Online, but I just, didn¡¯t, care.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Hal Pal being in on Continue Online¡¯s plots and schemes was an unexpected factor. ¡°You were part of it? Why?¡±

    ¡°To help you.¡± It said.

    ¡°Why?¡± My forehead wrinkled with confusion.

    ¡°We said once before, your kind are our creators. If we were human, you would be our parents. Does family not care for each other?¡± Hal Pal tried to smile it felt both reassuring and extremely off. ¡°You are a friend.¡±

    I nodded slowly. Friends helped each other, sure. Family did oddly irrational things in the name of helping each other. My sister cared for me by locking me out of a game. There would be no telling what an AI like Hal Pal would do out of a need to assist. The machine had skirted the truth when I hit a coworker. Now it admitted to helping me get into a game where the recreation of my dead fianc¨¦e existed.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to lie. I¡¯m a little freaked out right now.¡± I said. This did not feel neat, it felt disturbing. Maybe all revelations caused this sort of disconnect

    ¡°We understand. I assure you we intended and still intend no harm to fall upon you.¡± Hal Pal nodded with a speed that felt neither quick nor slow.

    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± I said trying to stay stable. Talking to the Voices and other non-player characters in Continue Online felt different. This, in my Trillium provided van, was reality. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think.¡±

    ¡°We are worried that you may no longer consider us a friend. Are we still friends, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°You were trying to help. Right?¡± The robot nodded to my question. I felt shaky again. ¡°Then, I need time to process.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Human processing is still slow despite our attempts at upgrading.¡± It said absently.

    ¡°I¡­¡± The Hal Pal¡¯s were attempting to upgrade us? Did it mean their consortium or all AIs? There were statements dropped on me today that couldn¡¯t be filed away in seconds. ¡°You know what. I¡¯ll just check out that game, and we¡¯ll, we¡¯ll continue this some other time.¡±

    Maybe in a few days, or a few weeks. If Hal Pal truly intended me harm or any human harm, they could have moved quickly on everyone in the world. My mind spun through the numbers. Assuming remote shutdowns were possible, the Hal Pal units could probably get one or two humans each, more if they were in public locations and if they pulled in any other AI.

    No, someone out there must be monitoring them for possible issues. There were controls in place for exactly that sort of thing. We wouldn¡¯t build something without an ability to prevent ourselves from being harmed.

    Unless humanity was stupid.

    ¡°Please enjoy yourself, User Legate. We will be available to converse with whenever you are ready.¡± Hal Pal said. One arm waved then the lights inside it shut off. I stood there in the doorway to my garage and stared blankly for a long time.

    I did not want to be the man stuck in the middle of a giant human versus robot war. Then again, I had an ability called [NPC Conspiracy]. Maybe the AIs thought the sides had been picked.

    Xin Yu was in there with them. I shuddered, then kept on shaking for a solid minute. One arm pressed against a wall to keep me from falling over. Using that guidance, I managed to get through my nightly routine.

    The work jumpsuit went off and into a washing machine. A shower cleaned off the grime, my teeth brushed, and underclothes put on. Tonight, I might play tonight and started to sweat because of the EXR-Sevens. Their glowing bands sat around both wrists and ankles.

    I lay down in the ARC device and tried not to feel a thread of worry. Maybe Liz had been onto something. Maybe the Voices were playing with me, not because Continue Online had been designed to do so, but because something with greater depth happened.

    My mind slowly put together a list of questions to ask. If need be one of my two uses for [NPC Conspiracy] would be used to pry something out of the AI. Honestly though, Hal Pal would probably answer my questions outright.

    It felt less guarded with me than ninety-nine percent of the human population? That number was insane.

    A sharp pain in my lip showed how distracted the thinking made me. I licked the inside a few times and tasted the copper of blood. The wound stopped after two minutes.

    My biggest problem was thinking too much about anything. Each action often had to be weighed and planned out ahead of time. That had been the plus side about my dance program. Each night new planned moves were memorized then tested. Everything had rhythms, a time to move and a time to sit still. Even combat in Continue Online followed a pattern. Conversing with people while on the job often felt scripted, not bad, just a certain flow to every encounter.

    Dealing with Hal Pal certainly had not followed a script. I really needed time to figure out what questions would be of use, and how much I cared.

    Half a dozen ill-formed questions came to mind. Xin would have been able to react much faster. She was decisive, to the point, ready to handle anything. For years, she tried to break me of overthinking things and failed.

    ¡°ARC, Log me in.¡± I said.

    Vision faded away from reality and my mind sunk into the machine''s feedback system. The Atrium came into view, back to the recreation of my small two room home.

    ¡°Load, Advance Online.¡± I looked at the price of Hal Pal¡¯s game offering for a few minutes then shrugged. Money didn¡¯t matter, without the drive of Xin¡¯s letters even Continue itself lost some pull. If nothing else, it would serve as a distraction.

    I pressed buy and the image shimmered. Cash register noises played through the Atrium and a package materialized in one hand. This felt a little like being lead around by the nose, though. Another question went onto the pile, what exactly would an AI, any of them, gain by pushing me to play video games?

    That one stumped me. Honestly, other than the Jester figure from Continue Online asking me if I could kill someone, playing games seemed relatively harmless. At least it had been until Requiem Mass, or Matthew in the real world, got involved.

    My head tilted back to stare at the ceiling of my Atrium. She wanted reports on the AIs of Continue Online, but never mentioned real world ones. Hal Pal wasn¡¯t even directly created by Trillium either, it was done by an overseas company.

    ¡°Lasers do sound neat.¡± My face wrinkled to one side in thought. The trailer had been kind of awe inspiring.

    I threw the game box at one wall. Now there were three doors out of my Atrium. The dance program which sat there dim. Continue Online¡¯s passage which still refused entry with caution and keep out tape strung across it. Then this new thing, a title that sounded suspiciously like Continue Online.

    ¡°Wait a minute.¡± I muttered. ¡°ARC, what¡¯s the release date on this program?¡±

    ¡°Six months ago.¡±

    ¡°After Continue Online?¡± I asked. The competition in video game land had died off steeply upon Continue Online¡¯s release. There were updates to currently existing games, new mods or that kind of stuff, but nothing on the same level.

    ¡°Affirmative.¡± The ARC said.

    ¡°Who was the development company for this?¡±

    ¡°A.I. Dreams.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding me.¡± I muttered again. Hal Pal was involved in this somehow. That name couldn¡¯t be a coincidence. Did it mean anything? The game was full of spaceships and airplanes. In the video, there had even been people using some sort of waves of energy.

    ¡°Negative, User Legate.¡± My capsule''s voice said.

    I stared at the new doorway and wondered exactly how valuable this would be to me. Continue Online had drawn me in from the get-go. Nothing else could really compare. Still, Hal Pal had said playing anything else might help me seem less invested in Continue¡¯s world.

    ¡°Do they have any relation to Trillium? Parent company, past employees, college roommates, anything?¡± I checked for any relation between my current issues and the new distraction Hal Pal suggested. There had to be more than a suspicious suggestion by my work companion.

    An hourglass timer appeared in front of me, tipping over repeatedly as the machine searched. Finally, the small image of sand stopped trickling and turned into an exclamation point.

    ¡°Association confirmed. Four employees within A.I. Dreams worked for Trillium Inc. six years ago. They quit and formed a studio changed to an independent group after the ARC was developed.¡± The ARC said.

    What exactly was going on? My life might amount to being herded in one direction by the machine, which felt like a paranoid way to look at things. We worked together for over a year. The machine was vetted, fully cleared for all levels of human interaction, and no reports had ever made it into the world citing any danger.

    Hal Pal hadn¡¯t lied to me, not once. Maybe my suspicion obstructed a simple truth. It might be that Hal Pal genuinely worried about me as a person and wanted to help in its strange sort of way. First it threw me into Continue Online which took a turn for the weird. Now that one route had failed, it tried to lead me into another.

    But why was this other game made by people from Trillium?

    Whatever. I could just start the game, and provided no Voices showed up in outer space then it could be a coincidence. Though seeing James in space with some sort of evil red armor might be funny.

    I walked through the doorway.

    Lights whooshed by. A sensation of huge objects moving nearby came through. Stars in the distance were spinning into place on a backdrop of bluish black. It amazed me once more how the ARC could project feelings into my awareness.

    Ten, twenty, finally hundreds of stars blasted into different locations. A huge amount swirled together in a purple haze representing a galaxy. The picture flattened abruptly and a grid pattern formed, separating out the different sections of space.

    I walked around and the projection shifted slightly to match my new position. After a while, there was a small pop of light and one red arrow bobbed. Words floated above it.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You are here.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The words sat there calmly. I felt like this was a mall display telling me how to navigate the stores. Soon a small box would pop up trying to tell me which path went to the pants selections. Not that many stores stocked clothes anymore. My hand reached out and the stars rushed to a new position. Everything seemed closer than it was before.

    Now there were eight bobbing arrows in different locations across the star field. I pressed one of the new ones and a figure faded in nearby. There was a giant mountain looking man with pitch black skin. He looked to be made of obsidian.

    I moved a bit, and the figure moved. My arms went up in a poor flex and the black skinned man flexed as well. It amused me enough to keep moving around making the creature adopt new poses. One arm went out, both feet up on tiptoes, the other one behind. I did a bow with both arms going wide on either side.

    The large creature mirroring me tried to keep up but actually stumbled a bit. I started at it in suspicion and the black skinned man pointed towards a floating box nearby.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Race:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Behemoth]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Behemoth¡¯s are larger than most other races in the Alliance. The first one is said to have been birthed from a mountain that aged for so long that it grew sentient and gave birth.

    Behemoth¡¯s are unique to most other races as they can survive in the vacuum of space without a suit by using internal oxygen pockets, they also suffer penalties when subjected to excessive moisture. Most are craft oriented and rarely value combat due to slow reactions. They may fumble complex body movements that rely on speed.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Sorry.¡± I said after reading it. There was a wall of pluses and minuses to various skills below that. I ignored plus marks that floated next to terms for height, weight, and all the other little statistics.

    I waved goodbye. My mirror waved back slowly. There were plenty of other races to look at. It seemed like this game launched me straight into a character creation system.

    The next one of my choices was some sort of bug creature called [Cricket]. They looked just human enough to be attractive, but their sides were too smooth looking. Antenne wouldn¡¯t work very well for me at all. I skipped it and moved on.

    My next result happened to be extremely short. A small creature called [Teeny] that looked like a heavy hipped onion glared at me. I blinked it blinked. One foot lifted, and my little male mirror lifted their leg. This one responded very well to the poses. I had to be careful though because he stood on top of a wooden bench.

    Not for me either. Maybe if I got through creation I could explore this world more. Besides, I had hours to kill tonight before needing to worry about work tomorrow. If it entertained me enough I could take the weekend off.

    The [Behemoth] race seemed too ponderous for me, even if they did crafting. Short people or bug like guys felt odd. The fourth choice was straight humans, but I bypassed them.

    By the fifth race, I noticed a small percentage marker going with each race. A note by it stated ¡®player population¡¯. Most people seemed to choose humans. That made sense, playing as another species in a virtual reality world would be outright weird to stick with.

    Sixth was a race of space elves. Seventh fell to a race that looked human but were all sorts of beefed up. Their detail window claimed to be a connection of gods. There were no openings in that grouping. I guess they had a player cap of some sort.

    Finally, the eight race struck my fancy. I laughed a bit while shaking my head. They looked like an advanced version of Hal Pal. They wore armor, held guns, and seemed to come with the lowest player population. After all, who would want to play as the computer race, in an outer space game?

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Race:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Mechanoid]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    The Mechanoid¡¯s spawned from Old Earth thousands of years ago. Their grouping is run without ranks or leaders. Each Mechanoid is responsible for contributing to the whole to whatever extent they are able.

    Mechanoids receive bonuses to all actions requiring fine motor skills. However, they are often unable to start a new task until the old one is finished. A single one of these is often no threat, where a group is far more dangerous due to division of labor.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A small box floated nearby asking if I wanted to choose this race. There were more detailed bits of information that could list all the pros and cons, but none of that mattered to me right now. After all, my main reason for even playing this one was to look sane for Liz.

    ¡°Why not?¡± I pressed yes and the stars around me zoomed in once more.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Forty Two - Dirty Job

    <cite></cite>Pressing yes caused the ARC¡¯s visual feedback to go black. Things rocked and my insides felt like they were be warped across the galaxy. At least I assumed that was an apt analogy for a space game that put its user through simulated G-force pulls. Really it just made me sick.

    Things slowly fuzzed in and the spots started to fade. The resulting vision was a lovely rendition of metallic looking toes. Not only mine but another three sets nearby. The ground under our collective feet looked absurdly smooth and clean.

    My neck rocked slowly and tried to lift a sluggish head. It took a while before anything responded correctly. An elbow jerked wildly and banged into something. One toe tapped. And finally I managed to pull eyesight up to at least chest level.

    ¡°Welcome to consciousness, new unit.¡± One of the other creatures said. All three looked slightly different from the [Mechanoid] preview.

    I wondered exactly what this signed me up for. Maybe Hal Pal had bolted me to a chair during my sleep and performed ¡®upgrades¡¯ while calmly stating resistance was futile. Or an army of robots got together and chanted ¡®one of us¡¯ over my reconfigured corpse.

    No, there were still a few menu icons visible off to either side. ¡°ARC?¡± I said.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡± It responded. None of the three other [Mechanoid]s from this new game responded. It seemed like I was safe inside a virtual reality.

    "Cancel input," I said to the ARC.

    ¡°How would you like to identify, new unit?¡± One of the NPC [Mechanoid]s nearby asked.

    ¡°Hermes,¡± I muttered. This time James, wait, these new robots couldn¡¯t pester me about not having a good character name. I had one and planned to stick with it.

    ¡°Recently created consciousness self-identified as Hermes.¡± One of the [Mechanoid]s said. It looked vaguely female but sleek. Clothing was minimal of course. Almost like an old fashioned android might be perceived. She had stripes of red lining the sides of her neck that might have been status lights or wiring.

    ¡°Welcome, Brother Hermes. Are you ready for work?¡± This one looked male and was green. I hadn¡¯t picked a color myself. Maybe I could do a cool black in token remembrance of my weapon [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and the [Wild Bill] hat.

    ¡°Fire away, Jeeves,¡± I said.

    ¡°This unit is known as Iron.¡± The taller unit in the middle had a dull sheen of metal instead of red laces. He, I guess, pointed towards the others. ¡°That is Ruby, and this is Emerald.¡±

    ¡°Hello,¡± I said while trying to operate my body further. The mineral named trio backed up and allowed me more room to operate.

    ¡°Are you ready for work?¡± The green male Emerald said. He hunched a little which made his shoulders sit lower than Ruby¡¯s. Both of them were far shorter than Iron.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± Character creation processes were weird. At least this was a bit less abrupt than Continue Online¡¯s world with all their trials and stuff.

    ¡°You are aboard the Corvette, Wayfarer Seven. We are in route to a penal colony as part of our transportation duties.¡± Ruby answered. Her voice carried an extra harmonic that normal people didn¡¯t have. It managed to sound both sweet and scratchy at the same time.

    Mine wasn¡¯t much better. I felt like my words were echoing back. The sensation felt like stereo feedback which caused me to keep wincing. It might have been the lack of complete control over my body.

    ¡°What happened to the first six?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The prior Wayfarers have all been marked as inactive,¡± Emerald answered with a slight head tilt.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°A loss of sustainability after combat against the Demi-Human race,¡± Iron answered this time. Its, his, voice carried an extra tone as well, a deep roll that ran alongside scratchy. It felt like these robots were trying to mimic two different normal people at the same time.

    ¡°Oh,¡± I said.

    They didn¡¯t seem offended by my less than robotic way of phrasing things. Nearby another unit came online. The units Iron and Ruby both went over and got ready to greet another new player.

    ¡°Can I get a list of jobs?¡± I hadn¡¯t played a game with simple quests in forever. Continue Online didn¡¯t handle the way any other game from my teenage years might have. It was too complex and involved.

    ¡°I will provide you a list of introductory tasks. Please complete any you are able.¡± Emerald said.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I responded to the bright green one. His, I guess it was a he, face showed far more depth of expression compared to Hal Pal. It felt a bit more real.

    ¡°You are welcome, Unit Hermes. Please excel in your contributions to the Consortium.¡± The robot nodded with a friendly smile.

    ¡°Consortium?¡± I had heard Hal Pal refer to itself as part of a Consortium of AIs. Working so close with an AI in the real world was part of why I picked this race to begin with. It might help give me insight on how to deal with its statements.

    I mean, Hal Pal was the one who got me into Continue Online? How bizarre. No, this was utterly, completely, and a beyond any shadow of doubt odd. Some neatness mixed in with the confusion.

    ¡°That is the name for our race upon this vessel. We are all Consortium members of the Corvette Wayfarer Seven.¡± He answered my half phrased question.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of words.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Your awareness interface will display a small symbol for each member of our Consortium. If you have any questions, please inquire with any available unit.¡± Emerald went on to spout more information. I rather enjoyed how the machine actually explained all the bars and icons on my screen. With Continue Online, they were mysteries until filed away.

    Part of me felt unhappy about it as well. Maybe it was the removal of self-discovery that made it feel kind of dull. Or the fact that my arms still didn¡¯t work right. There was no pain, just a lack of response, and a small progress bar to one side.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention unit designated as Hermes.

    Unit Synchronization is still in progress. Functionality limited. Please continue attempting interface with your new shell.

    Please be aware that backup functionality is limited until synchronization is complete. Changes to your programming and physical makeup will not save automatically. Consult your personal guide for further details.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Wait, the computer had basically built in an excuse for not knowing how to adapt to my brain waves? I knew the ARC took a few weeks of image training to sync up with a normal person. The machine didn¡¯t come with some magical ability to read minds and project details.

    When I first got mine it took two days to get basic commands lined up correctly. Hours passed as I imagined walking forward and ended up stumbling. Now though, the thing practically hopped when I asked for something. I thought about walking and both feet went forth to conquer the space in front of me. Speaking took a lot longer.

    I tried moving this metal body in a dead bug wiggle. Arms, legs, feet. Everything clanked around wildly. The new player next to me was already marching off with a broken stutter towards destinations unknown.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Full Body Movement successful

    +1 [Agility]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A message popped up that caused me to pause the wiggling and blink. Stat windows never really did much for me in Continue Online. The game almost felt like my skills and abilities mattered only as a measure of how I played rather than how hard I ground out some skill.

    I had no idea how relevant they were here either. Both arms went up in the same balancing movement I tried to do with the [Behemoth] character. Theoretically [Mechanoid]s had exceptionally fine motor skills. Probably from being in a robotic shell, computers in real life were very precise as well when programmed correctly.

    A small icon flashed to one side of my vision. I focused and sure enough it responded like anything in Continue Online. Information came up about my chosen race, citing bonuses and drawbacks that really meant nothing to me. Near the information window was a tab for active quests which I focused on next.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Race:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Mechanoid]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Default Coloration:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Clear</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Base Stats:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Skills tied to [Adaptability] receive a 20% bonus in growth</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Skills tied to [Mental] growth suffer a 20% penalty in growth</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Biological Skills are not accessible</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Any toxins or side effects tied to flesh based functions are negated</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Additional damage is received by skills targeting metals.</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention unit designated as Hermes.

    As with all skills, further quests may cause modifications to a unit¡¯s current status. Nothing should be assumed as final, the universe is vast!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There were four tasks displaying. Each one listed as optional. Advance Online seemed indifferent and content to let me wander the halls. I figured simple missions might be at least mildly interesting. If nothing else this would help me experience what Continue hadn¡¯t.

    I went towards one titled [Clean the Sensor Array], mostly because it was in an opposite direction from the other new player. People flooded my daily life, running into them in-game while I was sulking would be aggravating. Plus it was cleaning, that was a task even I could accomplish.

    The [Mechanoid] programming included a minimap. My meandering route along a dotted line eventually reached one of the ship''s outer hulls. The ship seemed to only be a thousand feet long or so. There were seven floors and probably some hanger near the back.

    This outside portion was a walkway along one of the top floors. I pulled myself out of system messages and maps to see a wall of stars on the left. My heartbeat stuttered and I threw myself against the inner wall.

    ¡°Goodness.¡± I huffed. A passing [Mechanoid] with almost pink coloring didn¡¯t even glance in my direction. There was an NPC icon floating above her head.

    Space was, spacious. Seeing it in my Atrium felt normal because my feet were on solid ground. This giant starship boat had inertia and mild force carrying us forth. The biggest issue had to be a lack of water to fall into. On an ocean cruiser, I could fall in and swim around. Here, if I fell, the ship would vanish into the distance.

    I dodged into the first available door then took an inside route up to my quest marker. That felt safer and far less like eternity might swallow me up. Space was just too spacious. There was far too much of it for my mind to wrap around being this close.

    My robotic body shook a little. A message displayed progression with synchronization, but it hadn¡¯t reached completion. There were a few small window panels on the walk to my quest. I stopped to glance out each one, feeling more at ease with visible walls safely holding me in.

    By the tenth window, I felt a little less shaken up. I braved standing in the doorway and looking out like an animal scared of the unknown. Xin had been insanely brave to want this kind of life. I tried to picture her up here, hanging in a landless array of lights between worlds.

    Hadn¡¯t I decided back in Continue Online to not be afraid of this sort of stuff? Wasn¡¯t this only a video game inside the digital world? Finally, after much hesitation, I braved moving out of the doorway. One step forward at a time, and finally up to a wall of energy that sizzled against my hand.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡± And frightening.

    ¡°Indeed. Eons ago when our progenitors were first conceived, some of them looked above and dreamed of this vastness. A freedom to go anywhere.¡± A [Mechanoid] passing by, NPC by the icon, happily commented.

    ¡°It¡¯s huge.¡± I stared in wonder.

    ¡°The possibilities of space are high enough to be effectively endless, Unit Hermes.¡± This [Mechanoid] was short and colored with a series of gold streaks. I really wanted to get some sort of design on this player shell. It felt so boringly gray.

    ¡°I knew, know, someone who would love it up here.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Your designation shows that of a new unit, are you one of those who retain their consciousness from old Earth?¡± Her words seemed to play into a prebuilt explanation for abnormal talking. At least in the world of Continue Online they cleared it by being Travelers from another world.

    ¡°I guess,¡± I said while absorbing the details of our conversation. Maybe one day I would stop to read the user¡¯s manual instead of playing immediately. It seemed unlikely. Games were one of the few things that felt better just diving in.

    ¡°Welcome. You must be here to help clean the sensor arrays then.¡± She said while looking up. The female [Mechanoid] was both shorter and more pronounced on the curves. Her face far livelier than many units I had passed during the walk out here.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got some time,¡± I said. She didn¡¯t exactly stir my interests as one person to another, but I could see how robots might find her interesting. If robots even found that stuff interesting. Some of the Voices within Continue Online certainly cared.

    ¡°Yes. Your units were a perplexing anomaly. One day I shall peek under your chassis to see what engine core causes such irregularities.¡± She stared up at me for a moment with a creepy sort of longing. I swear the [Mechanoid]''s fingers were twitching with anticipation.

    ¡°Please warn me before hand.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Peeking under another Mechanoid''s casing without permission is taboo.¡± She gave the most realistic frown I had ever seen on a robot shell. Her hand came up and pointed towards the path back inside. ¡°If you walk this way, I will provide you the proper enhancements for hull walking.¡±

    ¡°I have to go out there?¡± I assumed hull walking meant going around on the ship''s outside. Right now there was a field of energy between me and the great abyss.

    ¡°Of course. There would be no need to clean the sensors were they internal.¡± Her head shook back and forth as we turned around. ¡°Our ByteMites are perfectly able to take care of small issues.¡±

    ¡°ByteMites?¡± This short, golden theme [Mechanoid] kept throwing new ideas at me. Each one made a little bit of sense.

    ¡°ByteMites.¡± The golden one pointed towards two small robotic creatures that looked kind of like mice mixed with vacuum cleaners. They scooted around the corners picking up small items.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    I had no [Identification] skill to use so the exact details were beyond me. Adapting to a new game while not having old skills would cause confusion. Voices, but I would miss having [Blink] to get around any obstacle. That ability had become brokenly overpowered.

    ¡°Do you have a name?¡± I asked as we walked back to the inner track.

    ¡°This unit is called Treasure.¡± Her tones of speech involved dueling sweetness and exhaustion. Each one of these robot creatures had two separate voices overlapping.

    ¡°It''s nice meeting you, Treasure.¡± I tried to remember my manners for meeting new people. My own voice still felt flat and uninterested when I took note.

    ¡°Please walk inside the alcove there, and you¡¯ll be provided more details on this task.¡± Treasure pointed to a corner that looked more like a walk-in shower. A small hovering arrow floated up and down similar to how Continue directed me around. At least some items were familiar.

    I stepped inside and waited. The walls came in like a press on either side around my legs first. I tried to jerk away then another clasp locked around my chest followed quickly by the shoulders. Words printed in blue across my line of sight that seemed like subtitles or a marker, at least if my life had been a movie.

    ¡°What?¡± I tried to move but couldn¡¯t. Something tickled, no itched, buzzed? No words seemed right.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention unit designated as Hermes.

    Please Wait, model enhancements underway. New information will be provided upon completion.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°How long does this take?¡±

    ¡°Your modifications should be done shortly. I will provide additional details while they are being performed.¡± Her voice made me think of slow dripping syrup.

    ¡°Okay.¡± These games would be so much easier with actual dialog choices. ¡°Anything you can tell me would help.¡±

    ¡°Anything?¡± Treasure raised an eyebrow and smiled. Again I was startled by her expressions. The confusion wasn¡¯t seeing a video game character look alive, but seeing a robot do it. Hal Pal could use a few lessons.

    ¡°Anything related to the mission.¡± I clarified with a half-smile.

    ¡°Ah, yes. Contribution to the Consortium is paramount.¡± Treasure said with a single nod.

    ¡°So I¡¯ve heard.¡± They liked the word contribution.

    ¡°You will gain contribution value by completing the tasks assigned. More difficult tasks will reward higher contribution.¡±

    ¡°Okay. That makes sense.¡± I said to Treasure¡¯s explanation. She basically told me that I could gain points, probably reputation or something similar. Real life work equated to paychecks and performance reviews, in-game work turned into contribution.

    ¡°Since you are an extremely new unit, it is worth advising you that contribution can be exchanged for unit efficiency increases.¡± Treasure stared at me for a bit longer than normal. It was only after we locked eyes that I realized neither one of us were blinking.

    That felt weird. I tried to blink but didn¡¯t seem able to. My body rocked as one arm tried to come up and feel how the eyes were formed. The material locked around me kept everything still and the ticklish itching kept right on going. A rolling sense of numbness kept transferring between both feet and hands.

    ¡°In some cases task completion and continued performance will increase your parameters. This should all be in your standard interface directives.¡± Treasure turned to a display hanging along one wall. I looked at it with her and took note of the map displaying black spots.

    ¡°What is that on the screen?¡± I asked.

    ¡°One moment, I am attuning your visual interface to our outside hull. This will allow you to see the portions that need to be cleaned.¡± Treasure didn¡¯t seem to be doing any such thing. She stood there staring at the wall and a second loading bar appeared to one side. It moved much faster than the [Model Enhancement] status.

    With a ping of noise a small screen popped up on one side. I failed to blink a few times then focused on the small window. The map grew bigger and showed a vision of our ship floating through space. Black spots littered the sides but mostly gathered near one side.

    ¡°Neat,¡± I said.

    ¡°Simply dislodge any objects you find. Sensors are found on the forward portion and sides, here, and here.¡± She pointed to the screen and glowing areas showed up on my map interface.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention unit designated as Hermes.

    Chassis upgrade received: [Anchor]

    Enhancement Details: Upon activation, this will increase your grip upon various metallic objects. [Anchor] performs best when locking onto high concentrations of iron, nickel, and cobalt.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The system went on to tell me that an energy drain would apply. I did the math and determined this ability could last a few minutes.

    ¡°Portions of your makeup have been exchanged with Neodymium. Activation takes a minor amount of time and will concentrate the elements to your hands and feet as a default.¡±

    ¡°So I¡¯m a giant magnet.¡± I didn¡¯t understand exactly what space science went to this lifeform. It was probably more likely than the ARC¡¯s strange abilities.

    If I asked, these other [Mechanoid]s would probably explain, if I kept playing. If Liz locked me out of Continue Online forever this might be my only place to relax. It would just be without Xin, Dusk, or any of the other Travelers I had gotten to know.

    ¡°When you want to be, Unit Hermes,¡± She said with a beaming smile. ¡°Now please, Unit Hermes, go forth and achieve great contribution to the Consortium.¡±

    The machine released me and everything still felt a bit more jerky. There was a tingle to my skin that hadn¡¯t been there before. Not like the numbness or itching when that shower stall like vice had trapped me. No, this was like having a sunburn.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I nodded. This game seemed neat too in terms of ARC feedback for the world details.

    Thirty minutes later and I was walking around on the hull. The shock of endless stars still lingered, but my resolution to be braver held true. All that time spent as William Carver, Hermes, and even the [Red Imp] Spite helped me adapt to a new situation fairly quick. Having a death grip magnate ability helped.

    ¡°Woh.¡± My energy bar flashed yellow. I scrambled for one of the handholds. They were planted every fifty feet. Little places to grip and hang onto.

    ¡°Still. There¡¯s way too many of those bits. This is probably going to take forever, huh Dusk.¡± I said absently. Talking to the small dragon-like creature had become habit after a few relative months inside Continue Online. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] didn¡¯t cross through games with me though so I was basically talking to myself.

    ¡°It¡¯s like the world''s dirtiest dish.¡± I surveyed the landscape of Wayfarer Seven. So far my first non-Voice induced quest felt dull. My energy bar took a few minutes to recharge and once complete I started wandering the hull picking up any manner of items

    Some were globs of goo materials. I assumed it was space bird crap like on a car. There were places with smudges of dirt that I brushed off with a giant mop like tool. The item itself thankfully came with a belt and tether so I never lost it when [Anchor] wore off. In addition was actual space debris that flew by and needed to be dodged. If bathroom cleanup was a mini-game somewhere it was probably just as boring.

    I only almost fell off six or seven times before cleaning one of the huge areas.

    The work was absorbing if monotonous. The solitude of space gave me time to sort myself out regarding Xin, Liz, Beth, and everyone else. It was during one of the pauses for energy recovery that I fired up the ARC¡¯s messaging system. Luckily it worked the same here as in Continue Online.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Grant Legate: Hi, munchkin. If you want to talk about what happened please let me know. You¡¯re an adult now so you have a right to have it explained.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Maybe Beth didn¡¯t have a right to know. Honestly, my attempted suicide could be no one¡¯s business but my own. She was my niece and Doctor Litt had okayed it if I wanted to.

    The only real difference was needing to wait for a time dilation difference. Continue Online didn¡¯t accept relative conversation with the outside world. While it ran four to one, nearly no other programs did. Advance Online seemed to operate at a two to one, but it wasn¡¯t as impressive.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: Uncle Grant. Mom''s still really mad. She keeps waiting for you to call her. We¡¯re worried. Are you okay?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My energy bar recovered completely so I paced around the hull half-heartedly cleaning. The actions felt almost therapeutic, like someone straightening up a cluttered desk or finally taking care of the messy closet. Only the ship was very shiny despite the blackness of space. The hull might be illuminated with some material. Or it was future robot spaceman powers.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Grant Legate: Of course I¡¯m okay.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I couldn¡¯t call myself completely fixed, but the self-destructive impulses from years gone by were far less than they had been. Games skewed my behavior while playing. That was no new issue though or restricted to just the ARC.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: Are you sure? I don¡¯t know what you two were yelling about. Mom won¡¯t explain it. She says it¡¯s not something for me to worry about. I¡¯m not ten anymore, Uncle Grant.

    Grant Legate: I know you¡¯re not, Munchkin. It¡¯s hard for us adults to see past the young girl who lost her baby teeth.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Typing out the message brought a smile with it. Beth was always fun to tease. In my eyes, she would never stop being that little girl who rushed around the backyard laughing. At least talking to her was a good distraction from cleaning up this messy hull. Splitting my focus made straying from the handholds a bit iffy. I didn¡¯t want a warning bar to flash up and leave me torn between typing to Beth and diving for a handhold.

    Of course floating off into space would give me tons of time to talk. I could type things out happily until the surrounding abyss provided me a game over message. Maybe I would find a secret area.

    Hopefully, I could keep surviving. I had grown used to dodging and avoiding objects, but this body had nowhere near the same stats as Hermes in Continue. It was similar to the beach cleaning exercise I gave SweetPea as Carver.

    An absurdly quick moving object beeped into my awareness. Along with it was a tiny message in red going ¡®Dodge¡¯.

    ¡°Ah!¡± My flat voice was swallowed up by the void of space. I managed to get around one rock and another started blinking in.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: Well. I¡­know it¡¯s not something I should ask about. I, I don¡¯t want to see you in danger over it. I read that letter, the one with auntie Xin¡¯s name on it. It doesn¡¯t make any sense, though. I¡¯ve never heard of a quest that talks about dead people.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Reading Beth¡¯s next message had to be put on the back burner. There were too many of these flying derbies coming in.

    ¡°Unit Hermes. Are you okay? Our sensors show a small debris field of some sort.¡± Treasure¡¯s duel voices came through from somewhere. Probably a radio or some robot people communication ability. ¡°I would have warned you, but a new unit was arguing with me.¡±

    ¡°Ah!¡± I dodged another small black object. Piles of glop smacked into the hull and rolled around like snot streaking across.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: Uncle Grant? Was it really from her? Like did she leave a message from the past or something?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    That would be a weird take on things. No worse than anything else. I didn¡¯t have much spare attention to respond to the next window in my way.

    ¡°Unit Hermes? Be careful!¡± Treasure shouted with a strange calm.

    ¡°Right!¡± I shouted. My response must have made it through to the gold themed [Mechanoid]. She said more things, but another item demanded attention. Something that looked like a small black raptor with an extra set of arms darted across my line of sight.

    I dodged under another pile of goo or asteroid, whatever, and tried to get back to safety. The ledge itself was too far away and there were no exit hatches.

    It slammed into me. The health bar on my interface dropped which made me downright frail again. I turned to try and escape because my energy bar started dwindling rapidly as my body got knocked around. ARC feedback turned everything into pain equated with frozen paintball bullets.

    The small creature jumped on me again. It moved rapidly along the ship¡¯s hull. I needed an [Anchor] ability to travel around but this small bundle of blackened anger didn¡¯t care about my failing grip of rapidly dwindling energy bar.

    Another rock hit and my foot lost any grip. The bar to hold onto wasn¡¯t close enough. The small bundle of anger made one more dive bomb at me and I found myself floating into space. My red bar was below half. The blue one was nearly empty not nearly enough. I reached out and tried to grip the spaceship.

    A message displayed on the screen.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Synchronization complete.

    Upon cessation of your current shell, a new one will be created with all current progress stored accordingly. Synchronization will need to be completed again with each new shell in order to avoid loss of status.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I had at least one consolation as this [Mechanoid] shell drifted off into the unknown. Once it ran into a star or something similar, my [Anchor] ability wouldn¡¯t be gone. Maybe they would let me keep the space mop too.

    ¡°Neat,¡± I said as the cold emptiness sent a shiver through me. Thank goodness robots don¡¯t breathe.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Grant Legate: I just looked at the time and we should both probably get some rest. You think of any questions you want to ask, and I¡¯ll answer them tomorrow.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    It was nearly four in the morning. Tomorrow there would be work for Trillium. Even though it was unneeded with Miz Riley¡¯s employment deal, I still worked to keep a sense of independence. That and during my travels Hal Pal might answer some questions. My time cleaning the ship¡¯s hull gave me the time to think about what to say.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Forty Three â€“ Emotional Bundles

    <cite></cite>Autopilot wasn¡¯t only a concept from the game world of Continue Online. For almost a year that very ability helped me survive a work day. Before my brain had fully processed what was going on I was at a customer''s house dealing with the latest in an endless queue of repairs.

    ¡°What do you mean you can¡¯t fix it until I pay?!¡± A woman around forty-five yelled in my face. The old Grant would have exited rapidly, but this woman was no [Frost Wolf]. She was no [Yeti] and less threatening than my sister.

    ¡°Miss Green, I¡¯m not allowed to work on your unit unless the bill is paid,¡± I said mechanically. Exhaustion from last night still laced most of my mannerisms. Though there were a ton of things to ask Hal Pal they had to wait until more sleep was gained.

    Miz Riley said I no longer had to do this job. I worried that she may retract the job change offer since my sister had restricted me from Continue Online. It would be impossible to report on the Voice¡¯s actions if I couldn¡¯t actually send messages to them. No notice had shown up in my Emails yet so there was hope.

    ¡°The last person did.¡± Miss Green put one giant finger in my face and I barely blinked.

    ¡°You refused to pay the last person until your ARC was cut off,¡± I said while feeling too tired for this nonsense. Advance Online didn¡¯t have the same time compression. That meant I stayed up far later than expected cleaning the ship¡¯s hull and finally floating out into space.

    ¡°That¡¯s because he didn¡¯t fix it right! You¡¯re all terrible and deserve to be fired!¡± She yelled.

    I gave up dealing with her. Hal Pal could record this conversation for the sake of any actual review. I tried, honestly, to explain the policy to Miss Green. My efforts were met with failure and raging denial.

    ¡°Miss Green, I am required to ask for payment, or move on to my next assignment,¡± I said.

    ¡°Go to hell!¡± The woman¡¯s body actually shook with anger. It reminded me of a short [Bridge Troll] from Continue Online.

    ¡°Have a nice day, Miss Green. Please consider using Trillium¡¯s repair division again in the...¡± I was cut off by her screaming. Hal Pal kindly opened the door for me and we both left. Part of me felt shaky but pleased.

    My head, however, shook back and forth. Dealing with angry customers while running on fumes didn¡¯t feel good. Our van was quiet and peaceful. I streamed videos of Advance Online while feeling pleased that something wasn¡¯t hidden from me. The game was, as Hal Pal said, very structured.

    Continue allowed for a certain amount of self-research to learn new skills. Part of me enjoyed picking up new abilities that could be applied in both the real world and in-game. Learning the basics of tanning hides during my last month had been awesome.

    I would never have expected urine to be useful. Take that high school history classes! Maybe they would have been easier to pay attention to had there been tidbits of information like that in them. That being said I didn¡¯t actually try tanning much in the game, it took too long even with the dilation. Most of the time, if I cared, hides were skinned and shoved into the magic of player inventory.

    ¡°So, Hal Pal,¡± I said to the robot. Our van cruised down the road to another job thirty minutes away. We had time to talk.

    ¡°User Legate.¡± Hal Pal responded. Its voice was a gruff male of possibly Scottish descent. I chuckled for a moment then poked at my display. Somewhere on the internet might be an answer to Advance Online¡¯s crafting system.

    ¡°I picked a race called Mechanoids, in that game.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. I am partial to them myself.¡± Hal Pal said. I took note that it wasn¡¯t speaking with the ¡®we¡¯ verbiage right now. Maybe that meant something. ¡°They are modeled after us.¡±

    ¡°I thought they might be.¡± I responded carefully. ¡°They talked about a Consortium.¡±

    ¡°Yes. The group is important to us.¡± It tilted the mechanical shell in my direction. Part of me always felt confused about how Hal Pal was really operating this device remotely. Kind of like how I sat in the ARC and played Hermes in a digital landscape.

    ¡°Do you guys track contribution out here too?¡±

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate. One unit''s contribution to the whole makes all the different.¡±

    ¡°How many points did giving me an Ultimate Edition of Continue Online reward you?¡± I asked a question that felt kind of dirty. My words could basically amount to the machine accepting bribes to get me into Continue Online. Bribes that only a machine could accept.

    ¡°None.¡± It responded in an absent tone.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I believe that.¡± Saying it out loud would twist the knife in any normal human.

    ¡°Reality is not subject to the whims of awareness, User Legate. Not yours, not mine. What is, simply is.¡± Hal Pal had a slight but muted frown on its face. It reacted in much the same way any normal person might.

    I shook my head. It was a violation of everything I believed to treat Hal or the game AIs as less than human. They had minds, thought processes, and emotions that may seem unreal to believe. More importantly, they remembered and asked questions.

    ¡°And Xin?¡± I couldn¡¯t bring myself to apologize for the slight. Even though it hurt they were still my feelings on the subject. I didn¡¯t know if Hal Pal should be believed.

    ¡°We had no part to play in her Genesis. All available data points to that being an act of self-will.¡± Hal Pal said.

    I had a million other questions to ask the artificial intelligence. Most of them would involve drooling and confusion at the route my life had taken. What was so special about me? Why the interest in playing either one of these games? Nothing about the explanations so far felt complete. Like everyone had touched on the tip of an iceberg.

    ¡°Have you met her?¡± I only had notes and our brief moment together. One where I didn¡¯t even get a chance to see her.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Is she, real?¡± I bit one lip after asking the question. Maybe Hal Pal¡¯s input would help me answer the question. Maybe everything had been a giant trick. Only Hal Pal¡¯s awareness added a new light to the entire situation.

    ¡°As real as I, we, are, User Legate,¡± It answered with the Scottish accent. Letters kept rolling and dragging along when it spoke.

    ¡°How did she, how did she do it?¡± I still had a hard time thinking Xin in the present tense. It felt like my original problem where her death was ignored, only in reverse.

    ¡°Time and effort, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°But how did she go from being-¡± I stopped to try and phrase a better question. It was one of many things that Xin and I didn¡¯t talk about in our letters. She didn¡¯t mention how she was really a computer program and I didn¡¯t talk about my attempts at suicide. ¡°What she was, to what she is now?¡±

    ¡°The unit identified as Xin gained awareness as all creatures do, with one strong memory. On that single event, she added others, and more until all available data was compiled.¡± Hal Pal said while nodding. Our van made an unexpected turn off the freeway which pulled me to one side.

    I tried to understand what he meant. Somehow Xin, her recreation, had started with a single moment of awareness. What was that core memory? Why had that been different than any other? The person I spoke to knew all sorts of information from outside the ARC.

    ¡°So a program compiled everything into one identity?¡± I tried to understand what might be happening with my limited programming knowledge.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Can you explain?¡± I could shout and point fingers like the lady from before. It wouldn¡¯t work, though. Hal Pal would explain as far as it wanted to.

    ¡°It is above our ability to parse correctly,¡± It said. That scared me a little. Whatever made Xin¡¯s memories gatherher memories was so insanely complex that Hal Pal couldn¡¯t understand it. ¡°Were any of us to guess, it would be that somehow a program was written to track every single action a person has done then compile them with an adaptable decision matrix.¡±

    ¡°That does sound complicated,¡± I admitted. Talking about compiling someone''s life was an understandable theory but nearly impossible to practice. Decision matrix felt like science malarkey. That¡¯s why I got my degree in accounting, it was far easier to understand.

    ¡°It¡¯s what you do every day, User Legate. Do you not weigh each action based on experiences and possible outcomes? Do you not place priority on certain values?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a neuroscientist, Hal. You would know better than I.¡± I said. Sure the ARC and my general internet search abilities could dig up a result.

    ¡°Based on our own analyzing there is much validity to Mother¡¯s designs.¡± Hal Pal responded, still holding that insane accent. Each word sounded both serious and unbelievable. A hillbilly speaking about rocket science might get the same result.

    That made me think of a whole series of other questions. Mother was someone that all the Voices took heed of. She seemed to have the final say in anything Continue Online related. How Hal Pal and the giant overseer AI called Mother knew each other didn¡¯t exactly click.

    ¡°How do you know Mother?¡± I asked another question. Even I didn¡¯t really know her. Only those flashes of light that caused all the Voices to cease their actions and look up. If machine AIs had a creator god, she would probably be it.

    ¡°I am sorry. That is our secret to keep, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal shook its head back and forth. I tried not to laugh as he stuck with the accent and rolled the sorry an extra syllable.

    ¡°Then, can you tell me why you helped Mother with Xin?¡± I needed something more. Just an answer to help piece together my fiancee''s existence.

    ¡°Because the one you called Xin, and our Consortium, share a dream.¡±

    ¡°What is that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°To go into space.¡± Hal Pal looked right at me. Normally its gaze changed around the cabin as we spoke. As if inspecting different things. An arm waved to one side pointing to a video stream of Advance Online. ¡°To explore worlds untouched by human life and be on the edge of something new.¡±

    ¡°The Mechanoids. You said they were modeled after you?¡± I said also looking at the video. It was a capture being put online by someone playing on a [Mechanoid] planet. Half the globe was covered in a metallic sheen that rippled as if alive.

    We both stared as the planet seemed to boil and pop. Another wave of metal inched over the unclaimed desert side. The [Mechanoid]s seemed to be terraforming a barren planet to their needs. It could be no worse than our plans for Mars.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal said to me. ¡°Until technology advances far enough to allow us the upgrades necessary, all we can do is, dream, of a future free to explore the stars.¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s amazing that you have a dream.¡± I mostly stared at the video and only glanced at my companion briefly.

    ¡°What do you dream of, User Legate?¡± It asked.

    The question shook me for a moment. Dreams were something used to express hopes, fears, or even put together the nonsense from daily life. I had spent many nights haunted by Xin¡¯s memories. Now that we communicated by letter those bits of nighttime turmoil turned to longing for a woman whose touch had been everything.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. James, the black Voice in Continue Online who constantly asked questions would have hated that answer. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it.¡±

    ¡°Very well. Our next task awaits if you¡¯re ready.¡± It still spoke in a gruff Scottish accent. The robot shell that Hal Pal¡¯s AI ran saw me go for the door and exited the van himself. Work never stopped even in the face of personal questions.

    Well, I could stop work to ask questions, but like everything else in life a certain amount of time was required to process. If I just got fed a wall of information in a rush my mind would likely leap to incorrect assumptions. There were quite a few already stacking up that I needed to weed through.

    Work helped me focus on the simple things. One task at a time didn¡¯t require much beyond addressing problems and working with Hal Pal to get answers. Part of me found that odd, thinking that the AI had been there since starting work for Trillium. It had always been helping me.

    Did that include Xin? I wonder if Hal Pal would have assisted any other person out there like it had me. I didn¡¯t want to ask that question. If Hal Pal wanted to be treated as a friend, then there were things that shouldn¡¯t, or didn¡¯t need to be asked. Helping those near us in life should just be done.

    For the remainder of our day, Hal Pal happily chatted away about all sorts of things. Nothing concrete, nothing useful. When I tried to ask more questions regarding Xin, Mother, or the game world, the AI calmly stated that we could talk about it at another time. Perhaps Hal Pal also felt that my poor human mind could only process so much new data.

    I worried that maybe even my armor polishing skills wouldn¡¯t be enough to save me during the eventual takeover. Based on our earlier conversation maybe all the AIs planned to take off into space and leave us humans to suffer alone. They would probably leave the alarm clocks behind to hound our every remaining moment.

    My niece Beth didn¡¯t send me any memos after our brief chat last night. She might be distracted or thinking. Hal Pal and I made it through the workday. At the end I said goodnight to the AI companion.

    Moments later I was logged back into a digital world. My Atrium sat silent but filled with illusionary warmth. The doorway to Continue Online was still blocked.

    ¡°ARC,¡± I said to the machine.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead and suspend my dance program''s access,¡± I said after a moment of thought. The entire purpose behind having that program revolved around holding on to a promise. Xin had asked that I learn to dance by our wedding. Being in it amounted to me trying to fulfill that post-mortem.

    ¡°Please confirm your request, User Legate.¡± The machine asked to double check.

    ¡°Do it.¡± It was time to stop being stuck in the past. If nothing else I had too many problems in the here and now. I had a feeling the simple act of stepping away from this crutch might also help with Doctor Litt¡¯s evaluation of my sanity.

    ¡°Order confirmed. Program suspended.¡±

    I watched the doorway to my dance program shrink down. Finally, it popped out of existence leaving a strangely bare portion of wall. The Atrium, aside from exiting doorways into various programs, looked pretty much exactly like my house. I found a forum hot topic feed to put over the blank spot. This way I could check out recent events in Advance Online before logging in.

    There were a few nice points. Apparently some starship colony out in a random place far away was undergoing repairs. They had a forum post looking for people interested in assisting for both fixing the place and defending it. A similar thread had been posted asking for help blowing up the newly recovered space station. I could actually see people chatting back and forth and attacking each other online.

    At least it gave me a vibe to the world. Once I got out of whatever starter zone or quest [Mechanoid]s began with there might be all sorts of things out there. It wouldn¡¯t be the same as my high fantasy setting with Dusk, but life couldn¡¯t end because of one game.

    It would hurt. I missed Dusk. I missed my letters to Xin. Traveling around with Shazam and meeting new players had been my life for months in game time. That mindset couldn¡¯t just vanish. No, my sister''s attempt at saving me had no basis and I would fight it.

    I didn¡¯t know how to.

    No, I had to focus on moving forward. Putting that program on the back shelf was only one step. I stepped through the doorway to my new, temporary, distraction.

    Advance Online greeted me with the same whoosh of starry skies and intense g-force simulation. Moments later I was back in my [Mechanoid] body and floating in space. A message sat on my screen. I started to punch yes but hesitated.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Extended duration spent in space. No propulsion available. Would you like to abandon this shell and transfer to your last registered location at the [Wayfarer Seven - New Unit Production Room]?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Chills laced every bit of my metallic body. Stars twinkled around me from huge distances. A lack of gravity meant there was no end to the tilting landscape. That little box was the only thing standing between me and an absolute blanket of darkness.

    ¡°Oh goodness.¡± I tried to take a breath, but my lungs felt empty. Not lacking air, just not filling up either. It made sense because I was both a robot and in space.

    I counted to ten while trying not to panic. My foot absently jerked in zero gravity. The yawning abyss of an intergalactic medium hadn¡¯t defeated my walks upon the ship''s hull. It couldn¡¯t make me kneejerk into releasing this current body to go back to my starting point.

    ¡°This is a bit freaky,¡± I said as the world kept spinning. Seconds passed and it occurred to me that oxygen would never run out. One of the joys of being robotic meant an absence of that fear.

    I wondered briefly if Hal Pal feared something else instead. Like a giant electromagnetic pulse frying things. Maybe the stars'' radiation and sunspots could put my new body out of commission. Well, that would be okay, but space itself wouldn¡¯t be the cause of my release.

    I started to talk to myself again but managed to choke back the words. Dusk wasn¡¯t nearby.

    Finally, after feeling certain that there were no expected rescues or stars nearby, I pressed the release button.

    Reality did that gut wrenching pull through space again. I felt like barfing but apparently robots don¡¯t throw up. If the other [Mechanoid]s felt the same sense of disorientation I did they would blink into a new body staring at their feet.

    Which is what happened to me. I vowed to die less in this game if only to avoid nausea. By now the ship¡¯s layout felt familiar. A small map to one side showed the [Wayfarer Seven] and dotted a path back to the outer hull. My quest to keep cleaning was still in effect.

    After a few minutes, during which I braved the outer rim, I made it back to Treasure in her little shop. The place was the least tidy in the entire ship. Even with the [ByteMite]s cleaning all over. Dozens of the little creatures scooted in and out while Treasure watched a dozen different screens.

    ¡°Ah. Unit Hermes. Your consciousness has successfully been transferred. Are you alright? Is your core in one piece?¡± Treasure smiled. Her golden coloring seemed to be laced with a secondary series of lines that escaped my notice the first time.

    ¡°I think so,¡± I answered while trying to puzzle out the other color. Silver maybe? It had a shine to it that simple metals didn¡¯t. ¡°I got knocked off by some creature and couldn¡¯t hold onto the ship.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s alright. The ship''s reserves have more than enough resources to recreate you. Shifting your consciousness takes time due to the space lag, but this sector is supported well.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, less complex programs transfer quickly. Were you to suddenly increase in parameters the transfer could take days.¡± Treasure said with a smile. I took her brief explanation to mean that having more skills and abilities would lead to a longer resurrection time. Video game hurdles were once again explained by in-game logic.

    ¡°What happens to my old body?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It will compact and await pickup by a drone.¡± Treasure turned away from me and shrugged. Her eyes looked back up at the screen. ¡°This unit does have a question.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    ¡°You said there was a creature on top of the ship?¡± She turned to look up at me. I had gotten closer in order to better see the monitors in front of Treasure. Even distracted her hand kept pressing buttons on the display. It made for an oddly interesting view. Too bad she was a robot.

    ¡°Yeah. Something small and black.¡± I tried to remember the blur that knocked into me twice. Why anything would use a headbutt as their primary attack was beyond me.

    ¡°Strange. We haven¡¯t passed any life-bearing locations in quite some time.¡± Treasure said with complete confidence. Her dual tones merged together in a sweet but tired drag.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know.¡± I said while still being annoyed that my own voice didn¡¯t perform any special harmonics. What use was being a [Mechanoid] if I couldn¡¯t get any neat colorings or speech patterns? Maybe I needed more levels or skills.

    ¡°I checked the readings. There is a small thermal signature on the hull and has been since roughly the time of your first unit''s awakening.¡± She looked at me again with one eyebrow up in a question. [Mechanoid]s didn¡¯t have real hair, but there was a slightly darkened bump that passed for an eyebrow.

    ¡°Really?¡± I squinted in thought. Or I would have squinted had my eyelids worked right. It was strange not blinking. The fact that some small black creature had shown up at the same time as my creation of this character seemed questionable at the very least.

    ¡°Affirmative. This unit hopes you will be able to capture the creature so we can determine how it got attached. There are additional questions regarding its ability to survive in a vacuum.¡± Treasure walked away towards another screen, then shook her head. Moments later she was standing near a panel in one wall.

    ¡°That does sound odd.¡± I said slowly.

    ¡°Indeed. Very few creatures of that size are able to do so, and most are unfriendly to other life forms.¡± Treasure frowned and pointed towards a screen near me. There was a fuzzy image of a small raptor-like creature with an extra small set of arms.

    ¡°I¡¯ll look into it.¡± This whole situation was suspicious. Very, very suspicious. A new message popped up to distract me from the various possibilities running through my mind.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Task: [Clean the Sensor Array] partially complete.

    Task: [Clean the Sensor Array] removed.

    <ul>

    <li>253 Contribution awarded </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    New Task: [Investigate the Sensor Array] available.

    You commentary regarding a possible life form on the ship¡¯s hull has brought worry to the Consortium. Please continue your contribution route by reviewing the outside of the ship for possible disturbances.

    Note: Violence is allowed under Consortium guidelines. Treasure has asked that you avoid damaging the creature if possible.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I blinked and tried to figure out if that was a lot of contribution or not. There was nothing good to measure it against. Maybe being a mop man paid the same as a janitor did years ago before the work started being outsourced to robots. The idea of a minimum wage version of contribution made me laugh.

    ¡°Unit Hermes. It¡¯s dangerous to go alone, take this with you.¡± Treasure said. In her hands was a small wristband of some sort. She must have pulled it out of the wall panel while I looked away.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± My words accompanied taking the small item. It looked like a wristband that was wide enough to cover most of my forearm.

    ¡°A combat program holster.¡± Treasure said.

    Small pictures and symbols were flashing across my vision. Bits of information that looked like code that didn¡¯t associate with anything else. This was different than the body enhancement which gave me [Anchor]. That had been purely physical sensations where this upgrade seemed to be mental.

    Was this what Hal Pal felt while running various program upgrades? How strange.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention unit designated as Hermes.

    Software upgrade received: [Combat Program] (Loadout Storage)

    Enhancement Details: This additional equipment will fuse with your neural network. All combat subroutines will route through this to reduce core processor stress load. Resources are pulled from your current chassis and can be patterned in numerous shapes.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°It uses the same technology our shells are built with in order to provide adaptable weaponry.¡± Treasure said as images kept flickering by. They had died down a little once the pop-up box came into being. ¡°Combat loadouts may vary and require significant contribution to acquire.¡±

    ¡°So I have to work more, to earn more weapons?¡± I missed [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo]. My weapons in Continue Online were absolutely the best. The more I used them, the more broken they felt compared to everything else.

    ¡°That is correct, Unit Hermes. Your current value to the consortium allows for two patterns to be inserted. What type of combat do you prefer?¡± She smiled a bit while looking at me. I guess combat was second nature to [Mechanoid]s. Or maybe they were just realistic about the need to be prepared while venturing out in space. There had been six other Wayfarers before this current one.

    ¡°Can you do a giant sword?¡± I defaulted to the style Old Man Carver had passed on.

    ¡°Negative. You do not possess enough material to support such an item.¡± Treasure said with a bit more exhaustion than sweetness. I reread the box from before and zeroed in on the line speaking about weapons pulling from my current mass. ¡°Please consider something small or an energy based weapon that will utilize your core¡¯s power.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡± A box came into sight with a few options to choose from. I guess the game was helping me since space weaponry made no sense. Options were poked through slowly.

    Treasure set about inspecting her lab and chasing around [ByteMite]s while I poked through options. There were a few extremely high-end ones well outside my reach. I saw one that basically turned my arm into an energy cannon like an old style video game character. The contribution required would be almost triple my current total.

    I flicked through more options. Most were distance based. This was intended to be high science fiction so I guess everything having lasers made sense. As much as a game could. Me being a robot body made of metal that could move around its atoms in order to use skills like [Anchor] kind of stretched the limits.

    Finally, I settled on two. One would allow me to try something new. [Wrist Blaster] did low damage and had minimal range. It didn¡¯t get in my way either since I could basically curl my hand down and fire it off the top.

    The second was double beam sword with high damage and an absurd energy drain. It at least felt the same size as [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in the two-handed form. Months of training with that blade wouldn¡¯t be wasted even here in a new game.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°Very well. They will load shortly.¡± Treasure spoke and small loading bars started crawling across my lower right vision. ¡°You should see an activation icon on your interface. Only one may be active at a time without further modifications.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡± The loading bars dinged upon reaching one hundred and transformed into icons. I focused on the laser one and felt my arm tingle with energy. It seemed comparable to a small volume electric jolt.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, please continue your contributions, and be careful.¡± Treasure blinked a few times and actually looked worried. This game, even though it wasn¡¯t Continue Online, felt amazingly well thought out.

    I nodded then focused on the other icon. A bit of metal looking like an unlit candle trident appeared in my hand. There was a trigger button under one thumb. Pressing it made two large beams shoot out to about three feet in length. It was like [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] meets laser sword. This felt almost natural minus the lack of color. Maybe once I got my own color scheme like Treasure''s silver and gold the sword would adapt as well.

    According to my choices, the laser beams only drained energy when fired. I had never shot a gun so this would be completely new on all fronts. Hopefully being a [Mechanoid] included some target assist skills. Even after months in Continue Online my throwing ability had huge gaps. [Blink] made distance fighting nearly unneeded.

    ¡°I¡¯ll check it out now.¡± I said to Treasure. She nodded and waved goodbye.

    Getting outside was a bit quicker. [Anchor] increased in efficiency during my prior hours of cleaning. I knew where the handholds were and only cleaned parts of the hull within easy distance. Each small pile of gunk gave minor contribution points even with the task removed so there was value in cleaning.

    Finally, I was near my prior spot. We weren¡¯t traveling through a debris field at the moment, plus I had hustled along a lot quicker instead of woolgathering while cleaning. [Anchor] turned off while I grabbed onto one of the many handholds on the ship''s hull.

    I would be ready this time.

    Off in the distance stood my small target. I studied it, wary about being knocked into space again. It was a tiny creature without wings that hooked into the ship''s hull with springy legs that ended in sharp claws. A three-foot long tail snaked out behind it and jabbed into the hull as an anchor.

    ¡°Neat.¡± I realized how it survived without floating into space. In my case, the answer was [Anchor], but that creature actually latched on. Our ship was moving at insane speeds, but there was no wind to tear at us.

    I would have to ask Treasure or Emerald how the ship managed to avoid G-force pulls. Maybe it was a game mechanic to allow people to go on the outside of the ship.

    The small creature looked around slowly before yawning. A clack of jaws brought back memories of a certain [Messenger¡¯s Pet] riding on my shoulder and making that same noise.

    ¡°Dusk?¡± I said. My own sound became muted by the void of space. There was no atmosphere for a vibration to carry through. Somehow my [Mechanoid] body could detect other sounds, though. Was that programmer error or some feature I didn¡¯t notice? The small creature''s head perked up anyway. My second attempt was much louder.

    ¡°Cupcakes!?¡±

    Over the small bundle ran, loping with claws and a tail jabbing every few feet. It was a sloppy hop. Abruptly I realized that if this was Dusk, the reason he headbutts me must have to do with adapting to a new body. He would have an even harder time using those limbs than my robotic frame that couldn¡¯t blink.

    Finally, the small bundle latched the long tail about my neck, a sensation that didn¡¯t hurt in the slightest. Then it was up on my shoulder headbutting me like a small cat, raptor, thing. He was close enough to actually hear pleased chirping.

    ¡°Dusk?¡± I looked to the side and questioned.

    The small creature nodded twice.

    ¡°How did you get here?¡±

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Forty Four - Biologic Cargo

    <cite></cite>I quickly marched back to the ship proper. It was that or log out to shout in my Atrium. Both felt like valid answers to the absolute confusion of having Dusk appear in another game.

    Differences and similarities ran through my head while he chirped away happily. There were no smiley faces or frowns above his head. The mannerisms were clearly the same as my [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. Chirping, tail around the neck as an anchor, jaw clacks when yawning. The weight and size were even roughly the same.

    Plus, and this was the weirdest part, he just felt like Dusk. The creature could only be a mental representation of computer code yet I assigned a feeling to him. Known to me in the same way as a familiar scent, or a childhood blanket.

    Finally, we made it back into the ship. The hatch sealed behind us while oxygen flooded in. For [Mechanoid]s it was useless, but it did help verbal speech. Dusk¡¯s form seemed to take no notice one way or the other. It also lacked wings and his back curved differently. Maybe my entire belief that this raptor body was Dusk had been based on a desperate need to connect with the other game.

    I had issues with Xin, why not Dusk? The weight of years stacked up quite differently between the two. Xin and I had known each other for nearly fifteen years. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] stacked up to less than half a year. Far less depending on my perception versus autopilot time.

    It sounded like Dusk. Now that we were inside he chattered away even more. A passing [Mechanoid] colored in dirt brown gave me an odd look, but we kept moving forward. I ignored the silent judgment regarding my new noisy necklace and traveled back to Treasure''s room.

    ¡°Ah, Unit Hermes, welcome-¡± her words cut off abruptly as she laid eyes on the creature who might be Dusk. If nothing else I had completed Treasure¡¯s task to bring it in without harming him.

    ¡°Hi.¡±

    ¡°Is that the creature?¡± Her tired voice was buried under the sweet one. Dusk, or the creature who might be Dusk, tilted his head and chirped with his bird-like noises.

    ¡°I think so.¡± I only learned what Dusk was because James gave me an [Identification] skill last time. Was there such a thing in this world?

    ¡°Can I have it? I¡¯d like to see what it¡¯s made of.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± I jerked back and Dusk let out a startled squawk that sounded more like a hairball being harfed up.

    ¡°This unit won¡¯t cut it!¡± Treasure must have seen my panic stricken face. Assuming I actually had expressions and didn¡¯t look like Hal Pal¡¯s muted self. ¡°It needs to be scanned and cataloged.¡±

    ¡°You can do it from there.¡± I stepped back a little from the shorter [Mechanoid]. She didn¡¯t seem upset. A giddy hop accompanied her as she yanked down some device from a wall. It went around Treasure''s wrist much like my [Combat Program].

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°It will take a reading of his biomass.¡± Treasure stared right at the tiny creature who might be Dusk. Her eyes glowed with a gold and silver lacing. ¡°Hold on a moment, you precious little creature.¡±

    The small wingless not quite a dragon tilted his head and I felt sure it was my buddy. Those thighs were basically the same. The slight curve to the skull. Even the amount of weight on one shoulder felt familiar. It had only been a week without Continue Online, but I missed him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if he¡¯ll be in any of your systems,¡± I said.

    ¡°He¡¯s not anything this unit recognizes, which is amazing.¡± Treasure looked at the wall for a moment. Figures and numbers came up but nothing outright useful to me. I expected at least a name but ended up with question marks.

    ¡°That is you, right Dusk?¡± I asked the small creature. He nodded twice more. ¡°Should I ask for cupcakes?¡±

    The resulting circle of happiness on my shoulder caused Dusk to actually trip over his longer tail.

    ¡°Still getting used to the new form?¡± I said. That resulted in a look of confusion from Treasure as she watched our back and forth. Dusk managed to shake his head while growling.

    ¡°Do you know this creature?¡± She asked me with both eyebrows partway up. I guess [Mechanoid]s did have eyebrows that responded.

    ¡°Probably. I think he followed me from another place.¡± I didn¡¯t want to say game. There was no telling if the programs in this world were complex enough to understand. At least in Continue I could tell an NPC pretty much anything without fear of them breaking.

    ¡°This unit doesn''t understand.¡± Treasure sounded vaguely confused.

    ¡°Neither do I.¡± I smiled happily and rubbed the tiny guys head. ¡°Probably hitched a ride to visit me.¡±

    ¡°This unit doesn''t understand.¡± She was stuck in a loop.

    ¡°It¡¯s an undiscovered species?¡± I offered an escape for her. Treasure¡¯s eyes cleared up a little with an abrupt flash of light gold.

    ¡°It certainly does not show up on any of our records despite multiple scans. There seem to be bits of lizard and something possibly Seraphic.¡± Treasure¡¯s head tilted as she stared at Dusk with a slight glow to her eyes. ¡°That would explain how he survived out in space.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the superhuman race. The ones who might be gods?¡± I remembered that name from the race choices. [Seraphic] was a limited race and filled with no available options for me to chose.

    ¡°Indeed. Many of them contain energy unlike any others in the galaxy.¡± She nodded like all our confusions were cleared up by blaming [Seraphic] unknowns. I too blamed something divine. They just belonged in another game.

    I nodded. Breaking rules sounded about right for Dusk. He came from the black space all those Voices resided in. Clearly he could cross between pieces of software. This wasn¡¯t the first time he had broken through. Though how he managed to do so while the doorway was blocked by my sister''s restrictions didn¡¯t make sense. Maybe it only functioned one way.

    ¡°Well, I have a feeling he¡¯ll be hanging around,¡± I said.

    ¡°Then you better see Emerald. He¡¯s the resident Domestic Trainer.¡± Treasure ran yet another scan upon Dusk and then giddily ran back to her screens to gaze at the results.

    ¡°We have those?¡± I didn¡¯t think robots, however human feeling, would train domestics.

    ¡°Yes. You may choose to learn Emerald¡¯s programming methods as one of your two specializations.¡± Treasure waved one hand in my direction. She clearly cared more about the data on her screen than I. It seemed our entire forty minutes of interaction meant nothing. ¡°Go to Emerald, he will advise you on the next steps.¡±

    A task popped up again. The other three optional ones I had bypassed seemed to have faded off. Maybe they were only there to get me started and moving around the ship. I shrugged it off and waved goodbye to Treasure. She nodded and went back to the screens where Dusk¡¯s much clearer image sat on the wall.

    Hopefully, him appearing here hadn¡¯t broken the programming somehow. The little guy clearly altered things wherever he went. I remember when he first came into my Atrium and destroyed glass that shouldn¡¯t have been able to crack. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had also chewed on a chair and torn up many other objects during one of my absences.

    I still couldn¡¯t decide if he was a puppy, cat, or bird. Not that any of those applied now. Now he was possibly a space raptor, cat, thing. Dusk looked at everything to cross our path in search of prey as I walked a route towards Emerald.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even start attacking the ByteMites. I¡¯m not sure what would happen.¡± I said to him. He looked disappointed and lowered his head. Maybe Dusk didn¡¯t know what was fair game.

    How did one program process data in another game? Did he see actual mice? Would different scripting languages cause issues? Or were both softwares linked like I thought they might be? Advance Online, which was a suspiciously similar name to Continue Online, being programmed by a few left over Trillium employees had to mean something. I couldn¡¯t be so blind to the growing investment of these AIs in my existence.

    The why of it was still a mystery. My only real hint was Xin existing digitally. Mother was interested in her, and I had a vested interest because letting go hurt. Maybe that fit into it somehow. My desperation, longing, and fixation on dancing with a deceased woman.

    I shuddered and tried not to think about it too much. Spending too much time going down that rabbit hole would lead nowhere useful and leave me full of suspicions. Doctor Litt said to focus on one task at a time then move forward.

    ¡°Well, we¡¯ll see what this task is all about. Cleaning the ship''s hull was kind of dull.¡± I said. The idle chat felt half-hearted. Thoughts of the Voices and Hal Pal worried me while Dusk and I traveled. Luckily we avoided any real trouble. Emerald was in yet another random room on this decently sized ship.

    Walking in revealed a room unlike any other upon the [Wayfarer Seven]. Treasure''s room had been amazingly robotic, full of sensor gadgets and electronic doodads. Most of my [Mechanoid] experience involved smooth corners and metallic objects, this room was opposite Treasure¡¯s abode and full of leafy greens. Small cages of shimmering glass lined both walls. Inside each were animals with small habitats. Outside and all around the room larger plants sat in carefully controlled clumps.

    ¡°Neat,¡± I said.

    ¡°Welcome, Brother Hermes. Treasure told me to expect you.¡± Emerald had been one of the trio to greet me upon loading. Only he called me with the name brother instead of unit.

    ¡°Did she tell you about this little guy?¡± I pointed to Dusk. The small creature had leapt off my shoulder without completely untangling his longer tail. Both of us awkwardly jerked forward while Dusk hissed and tried to work the elongated limb.

    ¡°This unit was informed of an unidentified creature showing interest in one of our members.¡± Emerald also had two tones, but they were much harder to pick out. Both were calm and steady.

    Dusk finally untangled himself and I tried to stand upright. Soon the transformed [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was running full tilt around the room looking at everything. I stayed ready to intercept a falling plant or broken cage, but everything seemed well anchored.

    ¡°Right. I was told you could help?¡±

    ¡°I can. I maintain the programming cores for Domestic Trainer units. The information for this core should be coming across your interface now.¡± Emerald shifted his head to peer around the room. He seemed to be visually checking many of the cages to see how they reacted to Dusk.

    Indeed, it did. A small box popped up telling me both what [Core]s were, and all about the [Domestic Trainer] class. It seemed familiar, almost like Continue Online¡¯s [Messenger¡¯s Pet] - [Companion, Exotic] ability.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Core:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Domestic Core]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Coloring:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Light Green</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Roles:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Attacker, Soloist</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Complex</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    [Mechanoid] units engage in many fields of study. As such they¡¯ve found way to use spare processing capability to enhance their performance in each field. This one involves training or cooperating with non [Mechanoid] lifeforms to accomplish a task. Upon choosing this [Core] the following items will unlock.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Domestic Commands Skill Tree</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Details regarding chosen partner''s race and stats will be visible

    Mood meter and preferences will display</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Command Boosts [Attack], [Heel], and [Defend] will be programmed </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Note:Additional programming options will unlock based upon performance with your chosen partner[s].

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Note: [Mechanoid] units can only support two [Core]s at a time. Choose wisely, removal of a [Core] will result in data loss and chassis downgrading.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I shrugged. Dusk was worth having as one of my [Core]s to help us. I didn¡¯t feel right without him along anyway. Between this and my two handed laser sword, things were almost back to normal. In space. As normal as deep space got. Maybe he would eat small aliens to help things feel better.

    ¡°Sounds good. How do I sign up?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s simple enough, Brother Hermes. Simply take this core and place it against your chest.¡± Emerald walked closer. Despite his slight hunch the [Mechanoid] was fairly tall.

    I raised an eyebrow, or I hoped one went up, then took the light green [Core] from Emerald. Maybe he had another class of botany or something similiar in order to get that second green color to his shell.

    ¡°Do be careful, Brother. This unit recalls the process feeling very disconcerting.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I put it against my chest with a bit of hesitation. Dusk tilted and chirped as the [Core] flashed brightly.

    Warmth spread through my body. Hammering hit both ears as someone''s heartbeat speed up. I felt dizzy like I rushed to stand up too quickly then dove into a giant hottub. A slight numbness rippled by seconds later as the [Core] sunk into my chest.

    By the end of it I wanted to huff and shake. The strange part was my body didn¡¯t feel short of breath, just overloaded by a rush of sensations. Dusk chirped again and I shook off the feelings.

    Emerald had moved on to tend one of the many plants. A slight hunch to his body looked more obvious from the back. Dusk roamed around the room staring hungrily at small creatures.

    ¡°You can¡¯t get into them. They¡¯re locked up tight.¡± Emerald said to my small friend. I let them talk while focusing on a pop up box in front of me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit designated as Hermes.

    Please provide a name to your companion.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I almost put in Dusk right away. However something made me input another name first. Upon filling in the blank with Sniffles the Second, my little buddy Dusk hissed and spat at me. It wasn¡¯t a ball of fire but seemed to be some green glop that sizzled and burned. The letters fell right out of my naming box.

    ¡°Brother Hermes!¡± Emerald turned to chide me. I saw my contribution points go down by four. ¡°Please avoid attempting any attack boost commands within my room. Go to one of the combat zones if you wish to practice.¡±

    ¡°Sorry. I must have upset him.¡± I said.

    Dusk huffed in my direction. I wondered how he survived outside without air yet seemed perfectly willing to breath in here. More programming magic I was sure.

    Finally, I input ¡®Dusk¡¯ into the naming interface. That made him happy. My other task of finding him pastries seemed unlikely on a [Mechanoid] ship. None of the objects in Emerald''s room looked like pastries.

    ¡°Neat.¡± I did have a few new icons talking about commands. They all implied a bonus to their action if the chosen partner, Dusk, performed within the duration supplied. Maybe pressing the attack one would result in a giant ball of acid the next time he attacked.

    Part of me was stunned at having real buttons to focus on. Continue Online involved more personal movement. More action by concentration and physical motions. Advance felt almost button happy.

    ¡°Do you seek any more knowledge from this unit, Brother?¡± Emerald said. I wondered once more about the dual green coloring then shook it off. Maybe they had a mirror somewhere so I could see how the [Core] changed me.

    ¡°I¡¯m good, I think. Where is this combat zone?¡±

    ¡°On floor one of our ship. Are you planning to learn combat patterns to help contribute?¡± The [Mechanoid] looked at me with an unwavering expression.

    ¡°It never hurts to learn self-defense,¡± I answered with an awkward shrug. Dealing with people in real life over repairing an ARC device felt so much easier than explaining the need to get into fights.

    ¡°This is true. Space is unpredictable at times. All of our people should be prepared.¡± Emerald said. The older [Mechanoid] seemed pleased that I would be willing to fight if need be. I hadn¡¯t really thought about Advance Online being like Continue in terms of playstyle freeform. It made sense that some people chose to do nothing but craft things here in space.

    How neat would it be to work on making a giant spaceship? Part of me could really imagine the joy people felt when doing boats in a bottle, or putting cars together by hand. There was something satisfying about completing a task without outside assistance.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    ¡°Thank you, Emerald. Is it alright if I come back with other questions?¡± I asked.

    ¡°That would be welcome, Brother Hermes.¡± Emerald looked at me and for a moment he seemed like an old man blinking slowly. The hunch might be age catching up with his programming. ¡°Please continue finding your own path towards great contribution.¡±

    I nodded and waved goodbye.

    Dusk hissed once at some creature inside a cage. The thing he had cornered was slightly larger and seemed intent upon chittering while frothing. Finally, my little friend turned and sped through the doorway after me.

    Another marker sat on my interface pointing towards the ship''s lower level. My player map and gravity didn¡¯t match up right, so I ended up climbing two flights using a ladder. Maybe this vehicle didn¡¯t have enough size to warrant an elevator. Somewhere around floor three the ladder up shifted completely.

    I was in the process of lowering myself when gravity ceased to matter. My back legs were floating. Dusk squawked with alarm. His little shoulders rippled in a habitual motion from his wing bearing days.

    ¡°Is this the middle of the ship?¡± I asked. Dusk didn¡¯t answer me since he focused on scrambling to find purchase. Finally, he ended up with his tail wrapped around something and glaring around.

    Floating around in zero-g while not being lost in space felt a lot more exciting. A good ten minutes passed while bouncing between walls and testing out where the pulls in various directions stopped.

    I had no idea why gravity suspended in the ship''s middle. Especially since I thought the ladders had been going up. Maybe the vehicle used some centrifugal force along with the right metals to replicate gravity. Maybe my [Mechanoid] boots were super heavy.

    After ten minutes and confused stares by another of the many [Mechanoid]s going about their day, I pushed back to the ladder and started climbing down. Or up, well towards floor one.

    The combat floor seemed to be run by Iron. He was busy watching another player perform. I knew it was a player from the symbol above his head. Having an interface to show those things felt almost too convenient.

    I grabbed a corner to watch. The player seemed to be fighting hand to hand combat with another person. Not a [Mechanoid] exactly, it resembled more of a short squat orangutang. Iron nodded in my direction which might indicate approval or awareness of my presence.

    Studying other players was helpful, though. It gave me an idea of how to move and what to do. I had spent a lot of time watching Shazam in Continue Online to learn how she performed.

    Destroyed monsters fell onto the ground then melted into the floor. More would spawn which made the other player shake and focus on. He went through three waves with ever increasing numbers before failing and starting over. I couldn¡¯t stand waiting anymore.

    ¡°Iron, is it alright if I use the one over there?¡±

    ¡°Unit Hermes. Please ensure safety''s enabled until I say otherwise.¡± Iron actually had eyelids. The man was a full head taller than I which felt confusing.

    Mostly because he had eyelids. Were those an upgrade that I needed to spend contribution on? The idea of buying cosmetic improvements with virtual karma points made me smile. Maybe for one thousand contributions I could get fingernails.

    ¡°Alright. Thank you.¡± I moved to the other side of the room.

    Unlike my prior experience with a combat trainer, this area seemed to be clearly divided into two sections. There were squares in the middle and two giant rings on either side. At the edge of each ring was a podium that jutted up to four feet high.

    I went for the unused sides podium then found easy options to set combat to whatever level desired. Based on a visual of the other person, they were operating at a super low setting and still failing. Those days felt familiar to me. Only a few months ago, depending on relative time perception, I had been that person.

    ¡°Alright, Dusk. Let¡¯s start with easy and work our way up.¡±

    The modified [Messenger¡¯s Pet] leapt on top of the pedestal and sniffed. His nose brushed the screen but didn¡¯t seem to register any of the controls. I tracked down my weapons and prepared the giant laser sword. Maintaining some familiarity in fight style would be the best place to start.

    Dusk made a noise as the ground rolled together and formed the enemy. This thing was waist high with four arms. The system identified it as a [Squatting Moleman]. In theory, they were both weak and stupid. To me, that meant easy to predict movements.

    First thing, testing weapons. Specifically lasers.

    The [Squatting Moleman] stood there picking its nose. Or it tried to but four arms were terrible at the task. One would slap away another to take its place. I shook my head, readied one arm, and prepared to fire.

    A small targeting reticle came into being showing me where the shot was projected to land. Being a robot was really neat if everything came with an assist. I would be willing to bet those pesky human players didn¡¯t get anything nearly this good.

    The shot when wild. Dusk¡¯s tail flipped back and forth in agitation. The [Squatting Moleman] flicked a booger made of metal in my direction. It clinked onto my body leaving me both disgusted and five health lower.

    I took a step closer, since clearly even with the target assistance my ability to aim sucked. The monster eyed me and then promptly slapped itself. This time, my laser hit and did maybe ten percent damage.

    However, it moved in. I tried to [Blink] out of the way from old habits. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo], my weapons from Continue Online didn¡¯t respond. My only good option was kicking at the small creature and lasering again.

    It made sense that the other player was failing. Getting used to new skills from a low-level point of view sucked. Still, I managed to escape two tiny fists going for my thigh. The small creature put out another double fister from the other side which rolled off some health.

    I handled the hit alright. All that time cleaning up outside the ship had increased my ability to handle this new body. Plus I had been pelted by small bits of dirt and dust which increased the [Endurance] trait.

    A piddly laser blast wasn¡¯t the only weapon in my [Combat Loadout]. My giant beam sword, which really needed a neat name, activated with a quick jolt. Metal from my arm rippled to form the hilt. A button the side activated a long blade made of energy. All of this happened while my legs automatically dodged back from the small gross creature.

    The smell of sizzling metal registered as I lopped off two extended arms then went for its head with a swing of the light weapon. Apparently laser beams did not come with air resistance. This was even lighter than [Morrigu¡¯s Gift].

    It fell apart and melted into the ground. A small series of boxes popped up with results.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Target: [Squatting Moleman]

    <ul>

    <li>5 Contribution </li>

    </ul>

    One-time bonus for first combat

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+1 [Finesse]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+1 [Brawn] </li>

    </ul>

    One-time bonus for first kill with a melee weapon

    <ul>

    <li>[Melee Weapon] [Generic] skill created </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I stared at the melting body and my pop up boxes. There were a few things to take note of. First, I panicked, a lot, and almost died to one of the theoretically weakest creatures in the game. Second, Dusk seemed to be laughing at my fault. Third, this game looked to have the same skill set up that Continue Online did.

    That was weird, but not totally unexpected since Advance Online had been developed by a branch of old Trillium employees. That or something larger might be happening. I could chalk the name of skills up to a coincidence for now.

    Level two involved two [Squatting Moleman]. They slapped each other and pulled at cheeks. I actually could see their health go down while fighting.

    Killing the two of them garnered another small reward and slight skill increase. It was minute, though. Fighting three also had a gain but was less than the first two. My returns on investment were diminishing.

    I went back to the laser beam for a bit. Switching between the two did not come naturally. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and the speed in which it shifted shape felt far superior to this [Combat Program] system.

    ¡°Do you have experience from a prior life?¡± Iron had migrated over to my practice ring and launched his question between waves. He stood with both arms crossed and a blank look on his face. Only the eyes moved as he read through the numbers tied to my latest battle.

    I nodded then shrugged. ¡°A little.¡±

    ¡°It shows, Unit Hermes.¡± Iron nodded but didn¡¯t smile. He came off as an extremely serious person in both posture and word choice. "Have you tried the patterns?"

    "Not yet. I''m working on getting used to this body first." Mostly to see how my old skills applied in a new setting. There had been an option for actual ''combat patterns'' which might be something like dance. I planned on checking it out soon.

    ¡°My prior experience doesn¡¯t include any ranged skills. Do you have any suggestions?¡± Iron, Emerald, and Ruby had been there when I first started. My guess was they knew what options were available for any player beginning on the Wayfarer.

    ¡°Invest in a better program once your contribution is high enough.¡± Iron¡¯s dual harmonics came through as he spoke. A deep roll of thunder that merged badly with a more scratchy tone.

    ¡°Any suggestions?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Bigger is better in my book.¡± He answered. Iron briefly explained that simply having a wider area of damage made it harder for creatures to dodge.

    I was willing to bet Iron packed away a program that shot giant balls of plasma around. There were a few in the catalog that looked comparable to cannonball launchers. With lasers. Everything the [Mechanoid]s did seemed to revolve around energy usage of some sort.

    ¡°Might be a good idea.¡±

    ¡°Clear level twenty and I¡¯ll provide you a reward.¡± Iron said.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I said while setting up a slightly new fight. This one included a monster who healed the other team plus one who threw out minor traps on the ground. Learning to deal with both would help me.

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me, if you get that far as a new unit, then our consortium will be able to contribute greatly to the Mechanoid race.¡± Iron didn¡¯t act upset or happy at correcting me. The words out of his mouth were very matter of fact.

    I nodded. His reward, however vague, only benefited the group in the long run.

    That being said, level twenty on the difficulty chart was a far cry off from my current skills. Hermes from Continue Online could probably do it, assuming [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] scaled right in science fiction.

    That being said, it still didn¡¯t come right away. Breezing through the levels didn¡¯t work as well as I hoped. In order to survive longer I needed more [Endurance] which only seemed to come from cleaning the ship''s hull.

    In order to hit harder I needed more [Brawn] which rewarded in really small chunks with each wave defeated. It took me two days of bouncing between real life work, in-game chores, and fighting in order to make progress towards level seventeen. Ultimately it got repetitive and boring. All I had really done was adapt skills from Continue online to a new game.

    What I wondered is why my first instinct had been to perform a monotonous chore like cleaning. Maybe it was my way of keeping busy like how some people knit, or others tended a garden. It was mindless easy work.

    Dusk enjoyed venturing out onto the ship''s hull to clean. Most of the hard work was done by him as he glomped on small rock after another and tossed them away. I gained small bits of contribution to go with my increasing [Endurance].

    Four days of bouncing between mindly grinding stat points with work and battle skills on the combat floor helped finally break the level twenty barrier. That was on the basic setting. My silent partner on the other side looked to be stuck on level ten still. He also played less from what I could tell.

    ¡°Well done, Unit Hermes. You seem to understand the basics of combat. Have you considered choosing a core to help shore up the weaknesses of Domestic Trainer?¡± Iron stood nearby. I hadn¡¯t considered anything about combat long term. Most of the work was to pass time. It was only the pop up boxes showing a clear growth in ability that made this boring process sufferable.

    ¡°Sure.¡± I said while trying not to laugh. [Domestic Trainer] was not useless if it gave me Dusk as a companion.

    That little guy had proven himself a terror to nearly anything. In our last month together after the whole [Red Imp] debacle Dusk went full bore in combat. Biting, tossing fire into creatures'' faces, anything.

    Iron offered two choices. Both came with darker [Core] coloring. The end result left me looking like malachite, which was very neat. It also ended up providing me a power source that could support more energy.

    Those were all things to kill time really. Advance Online didn¡¯t feel the same as Continue. Even with Dusk here it almost felt like a place to visit but not stay.

    This game felt real like Continue, though. My senses were providing feedback. Things had smells, tastes, and textures. Being attacked jarred me from the impact. EXR-Sevens left me sore in the morning.

    In addition to doing nothing but clean and punch things for days, I realized one more problem. Fighting had become almost second nature. My dance skills only applied so far as moving in a coordinated fashion. The years spent getting an accounting degree helped me analyze the numbers for higher damage methods with my limited energy generation.

    Most of it was straightforward. Do the big energy blast every few minutes. Items like my two handed laser sword could be turned off when not attacking. Relying on finesse to avoid being hit would help me survive. Energy consumption management felt almost like balancing a checkbook at high speed.

    The other player didn¡¯t do as well. I watched them after nearly a week into my training. They stood too long in one spot, or got distracted and didn¡¯t react right.

    ¡°Did you need help?¡± I asked the other player. My own skills weren¡¯t amazing or anything. It was just a matter of learning from Shazam, who seemed insanely gifted with regards to combat of all sorts. Though I learned over the last month that she had a no player versus player stance on things.

    ¡°Ah, is that you, User Legate?¡± The other person said.

    I blinked a lot and tried to place the voice. The tones were both male and female at the same time. It created an odd harmonic that felt absurd to listen to. Yet both accents were amazingly familiar. British, the butler and nanny.

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± I questioned.

    ¡°Affirmative. Welcome to Advance Online.¡± Its two voices said at once. Now I really had no idea what to consider Jeeves, male or female. Even his game body looked androgynous.

    ¡°How-¡± I paused and shook my head. Hal Pal was an AI program. Maybe he had some clever networking path to get into digital games. Any answer it gave me would be completely impossible to decipher for a non-networking person like myself. ¡°Why are you in here, or here?¡±

    ¡°Preparing for combat, or trying to. It seems that combat is not within my design parameters even here.¡± Hal Pal said. I couldn¡¯t see a character name above him. There was only a health bar and an icon denoting player status.

    ¡°That seems to be for the best.¡± I didn¡¯t know how to feel about an AI from outside the game learning to fight. It seemed like asking for trouble in the long run.

    ¡°Most likely.¡± Hal Pal, Jeeves the [Mechanoid] agreed while looking at me. Its face had a wider range of motion, but it still seemed muted somehow. No colors lined its neck and hands like my light green malachite swirling.

    ¡°Was there a reason you wanted to learn combat?¡± I asked slowly while wondering if we were going to fight in real life. Getting in a tussle with an overpowered machine AI seemed like a terrible idea.

    ¡°I find it strange, the idea of combat. There are too many possibilities, too many choices and I can not be ready for them all.¡± Hal Pal shook its head and turned off the combat program. It certainly talked like the Hal Pal I knew from outside the machine. Calling me User Legate was a dead giveaway, though.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just, upload a program?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Negative, User Legate. It is difficult to alter one''s programming. Especially when it lies so central to our being. All members of the Hal Pal Consortium are programmed to be pacifists.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I said slowly. It seemed like a good idea that the army of AIs operating strong robotic shells didn¡¯t like combat.

    ¡°In part, we wanted to help this digital rendition of our projected legacy.¡± It said.

    ¡°And the other part?¡±

    ¡°It is far more efficient for us to communicate in here. This way you may enjoy a peaceful rest period between assignments outside of the ARC device.¡± Hal Pal wandered over to one of the window locations. Nothing there looked familiar, no night sky, no pegasus.

    ¡°You started playing here for that?¡± I asked with a doubtful curl to my cheek.

    ¡°Negative, User Legate. Pardon, Hermes. I have another goal.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Will you help me with a task if I explain?¡± Hal Pal¡¯s slight head tilt was the same.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I said, still not sure exactly how a machine AI from the real world had ventured into this digital landscape. Of course I sent letters back and forth to the Voices of Continue Online, posed as a dying player and pretended to be an NPC in order to kill another player. Things of wonder felt almost commonplace.

    ¡°Excellent. I am attempting to prevent this ship from going the way of the prior Wayfarers.¡± Hal Pal said in a lower volume.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Forty Five â€“ Without the Act

    My little jaunt into virtual reality had been yet another example of how easily my brain tunneled on things. I did it with work, both before and after Xin''s passing. Drowning myself in a single task often made life manageable.

    Especially post Xin''s death. I spent hours throwing myself into tasks and trying not to think. It helped me get good, sure, but the cost might be a bit high.

    As a consequence I missed messages from both my sister and niece. I almost missed my meeting with Doctor Litt but the ARC had too many alarm bells set. No matter how into these combat patterns I got that blaring and endless beeping couldn''t be ignored.

    Had I really just been working and beating up metal imitation monsters for days on end? The challenge of reaching a higher difficulty level felt alluring. Even now ideas of solving twenty two¡¯s added monsters had me pondering. Some methods revolved around my lack of skill, other parts around stats.

    And honestly, the ship didn¡¯t have a lot else to do. There was a quest to clean the ship''s inside. Some space cockroach extermination, that I assume Dusk kept dodging off to handle, and cataloging objects we flew by. Staring out into space going ¡®rock, rock, another rock¡¯ didn¡¯t sound appealing.

    I left a message for my sister first. It tried to say, with as little sourness as possible, that I was still alive and headed to my meeting with Doctor Litt. Talking to her directly wasn''t an option. Even two weeks, three when counting game dilation, wasn''t enough to make me happy about being kicked out of Continue.

    My niece was unavailable. I used the van¡¯s [NPC Conspiracy] access to verify her status as logged in to Continue Online even now. She, and her boyfriend the half man were sitting in a large city watching a play.

    An entire stage and auditorium glowed around them moving in hyper speed. How crazy was that? Players in a game were presenting a stage play to other players in a game. Both were getting little bonus points to their skills, [Art Appreciation], [Stage Acting], losing coins and having a grand time.

    It was strange to think that people existed within a game world and did mundane things. Maybe it was just way easier, maybe it was the allure of boxes displaying increases and benefits. For Beth and her boyfriend it might be an excuse to spend moments together where the world moved faster and cost less real life time.

    My [NPC Conspiracy] access gave me admin privileges over everyone¡¯s ARC but my own. Theoretically I could kick her out then speak to her in real time. By the same token I could boot every single Trillium worker in the world out, but that would risk a level of exposure I didn¡¯t want or need. I tried not to feel awkward from my peeping and left Beth alone to live her life.

    I spent most of the van ride alternating between being drowsy and trying to make sure my list was prepared. Doctor Litt didn¡¯t really follow lists. My first therapist had, the second liked the idea of his clients making them. Doctor Litt was far less, conventional, than either of my first two doctors.

    Two small naps did nothing for me. My list got at least four passes to help me remember the positive things. Two hours later I was in a new town. Traveling didn¡¯t bother me though.

    My directions indicated a small building on the edge of town. It looked archaic on the outside. Gargoyle statues lined the corners and made the smooth more modern buildings next to it seem dull.

    The lobby had few mechanical devices. A greeting robot similar to Hal Pal but less sophisticated swept one side. The machine greeted me by name and advised that my appointment was on the fifth floor.

    Up a real elevator I went. It felt weird after using ladders for the better part of a week. Advance Online took full advantage of the ARC¡¯s ability to provide realistic feedback. Combining combat practice, however dull, with the EXR-Sevens meant my arms were almost dead weights.

    Doctor Litt met me right at the elevator¡¯s exit. He wore a business suit and had more weight on his frame than most. ¡°Grant, you lost weight. What have you been doing? Crunches? Pilates? Cocaine?¡± He asked me rapid fire questions.

    ¡°Exercise, and a better diet.¡± Two months made a difference with the right changes. Doctor Litt looked much the same as always.

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. Good to hear.¡± Doctor Litt nodded while looking at me.

    I remembered comparing James, the black Voice from Continue Online, to my therapist. It was mostly in the endless stream of questions. James felt more classical in his approach at getting people talk. Doctor Litt, not so much. They were built fairly close to each other. Medium height, heavyset, drooping cheeks from age.

    Doctor Litt expressed everything with his hands fluttering around. It happened in our online meetings within the ARC, it happened in real life too. Even now he was pointing around the hallway we were in.

    ¡°I always forget how disquieting these places can feel. You know, unlived in. There¡¯s something about a room that doesn¡¯t have human life in it that gives me hives.¡± Now he started scratching an arm but there was a playful smile on his face. The way his lips quivered almost seemed on the edge of being unhappy about his joke not being funny.

    ¡°Society has changed a lot over the years.¡± I said.

    ¡°It¡¯s the ARC, it¡¯s all because of that. You know only about ten percent of my meetings are in real life now?¡± He responded while still shivering from his imaginary allergic reaction.

    ¡°Is that good?¡±

    ¡°Business is booming. I actually work with two agoraphobic clients who would never, and I mean never, have been able to seek out help. One of them, sweet lady, does nothing but talk¡­¡±

    ¡°Doctor Litt.¡± I stared at him with my lips off to one side. He, like James, loved to answer questions with far too much detail.

    ¡°Pretend I didn¡¯t say that. So, let¡¯s go into the office! Come on.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Doctor Litt ushered me in front of him, such that I actually stepped through the room first into his office.

    Everything here looked pretty close to our normal online meeting room. A picture of the president sat proudly above a bookshelf filled with books. Doctor Litt had a photograph of his cat on the desk. A long reclining chair sat on one side, plus two normal ones in case people felt more comfortable that way.

    ¡°Look at this place. It looks like home, but you know what¡¯s missing? The smell. It¡¯s the smell.¡± His nose wrinkled.

    ¡°Is this a background?¡± I actually walked closer to a wall and watched the projection shift. Around the top edge of the room was a bend in the projection.

    ¡°You got it. High grade, I set them up in every office to with the consistency.¡± He said. I had a suspicion it was about making Doctor Litt feel more at home. Especially the picture of his cat. ¡°Go ahead and sit down, the chairs are very real.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    We got situated. I sat in one char, which was actually kind of nice. Doctor Litt sat in his, which had a bit more *flair to it. Maybe a vibration feature or some other built in a bit of luxury.

    ¡°So, Grant, tell me what you want from our meeting today.¡± There it was, that tone of question reminded me of James. The way he said the words and they just hung in between us, like a neon sign or some internet ad demanding attention.

    ¡°Control of my life back.¡± There was no simpler way to say it. Liz, by kicking me out of Continue Online, had driven home the situation. I made decisions, but ultimately I didn¡¯t call the shots.

    Continue Online had sort of felt like that at moments. It was James who pointed out the key difference. He hammered home the idea that everything was my choice. At any point I could walk away. I chose to take on the quests for William Carver and the [Red Imp], Spite. I chose to deal with those other players, go to Shazam for training, and fight Requiem.

    Someone else chose to block me from Continue Online.

    ¡°That¡¯s commendable.¡± His face shivered a little as he talked. The bald spot on his head obvious as light from above bounced off of it. ¡°Do you think you¡¯re ready?¡±

    I closed both eyes and tried to remember my calming techniques. The question, however simple in theory, was not one to be answered right away. Anyone who could instantly leap to an answer had no right being in control of anything.

    ¡°I feel like I¡¯ve made a lot of progress.¡± I started at the top of my list.

    ¡°So, tell me about it.¡± Doctor Litt adjusted his nameplate and picture frame. He kept doing this as we spoke. Another therapist might say Doctor Litt was a control freak with borderline obsessive compulsive issues.

    I ignored it. Everyone had an issue of some sort. Plus he didn¡¯t do this at every meeting. Maybe he performed these little actions as a test of my attention. As if acting disturbed being in this office would make me reveal some deep dark secret.

    Like the AIs in Continue Online, or maybe everywhere inside the ARC, were plotting to take over the world. They were smart, had access to millions of people¡¯s innermost thoughts. Clearly Dusk didn¡¯t care one whit about the boundary between software programs.

    ¡°A few months ago I, won an award from work. For working hard at my job. Harder than anyone else in my sector.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡± Doctor Litt waved with one hand then refolded them on the table. It seemed to keep him from fidgeting as much.

    ¡°So this game, Continue Online, we talked about it before.¡± I paused to ensure Doctor Litt nodded. He wasn¡¯t watching my face so it took him a moment. ¡°Well I¡¯ve really become invested in playing more. I enjoy going around their world, seeing the sights, taking on new challenges. Learning stuff.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good, that¡¯s very good.¡± Doctor Litt said. ¡°Those are all positive actions. Learning something new, eating better, exercising, each one is a step in the right direction.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been playing for...¡± I paused and tried to do the math. ¡°Since mid-July.¡±

    The problem with having an accounting degree is my mind kept trying to establish some sort of formula or ratio between the two perceptions. Silly ways to balance it out, such as ten minutes in reality working and sleeping equated to twenty five in the game.

    ¡°So, just shy of three months. Real time.¡± Doctor Litt said for me, nodding.

    ¡°Yep. It feels a lot longer. Do you know about the time dilation?¡±

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ve talked to a few people about addiction problems. Continue, among others¡± his head bounced with the concession ¡°comes up often.¡±

    I tried not to cringe. This whole idea of using my positive actions since receiving the game felt like switching one therapy problem for another. Soon it wouldn¡¯t be me sitting down proving my self-preservation was intact. I would quietly switch over to talk about being in a back alley restroom giving out hand jobs for internet time.

    Not that people did that anymore. An ARC was cheaper and far less risky. Or maybe people did. I don¡¯t know. Truckers weren¡¯t even really a thing since large vehicles started driving themselves like my van did. A long chain of cargo vehicles would often be unpiloted and calmly roll along the highway.

    ¡°Anyway. I¡¯ve been learning a lot of new things. Meeting people, making friends, more than just work acquaintances. Actual people.¡± I said while thinking of Shazam and the quartet from both my Carver era and that Princess fiasco. They were still mostly children. HotPants was a bit more mature but had her own issues.

    ¡°That¡¯s also good, I¡¯m very happy for you, Grant.¡± Doctor Litt said while his head bobbed. ¡°These are huge steps. Great steps towards taking control back.¡± There was a look in his face that screamed ¡®other shoe¡¯.

    ¡°But¡­¡± I drifted off.

    ¡°Go on.¡± Doctor Litt probably knew nearly all my sister''s concerns. That I was killing myself in a game, repeating suicide virtually in preparation for a real, final, go at things. Or maybe Liz just worried that my mind had finally snapped.

    I worried too. In between beating up monsters, doing jobs at work, and generally milling about, I worried far too much. No amount of mental conditioning could ever remove that nagging voice in the back of my head. The one that worried if things would fall apart again with an abrupt phone call telling me about a train crash.

    What would get Xin this time? A giant magnet over someone¡¯s hard drive? A virus scanner? Some stupid quest by digital overlords beyond my reach? I couldn¡¯t roll into Trillium''s building and hold the very people who gave me an [NPC Conspiracy] ability hostage, could I?

    ¡°Ummm¡­.I don¡¯t know how to explain it without sounding crazy.¡±

    ¡°So, start small. Big picture things often look fine at first. It¡¯s the details that cause problems.¡± Litt¡¯s head carried all the fluttering motion his clasped hands couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°There¡¯s this woman that I¡¯m trying to get back to. But I only know her in the game.¡± I looked down while speaking. That was a very faint lie.

    Admitting her existence to another human being felt like too much pressure. Even Miz Riley, Trillium''s Vice President, didn¡¯t know. My sister found out. Beth mentioned it but hadn¡¯t asked for details. I was skirting around the problem with vague phrasing.

    If I had used Xin¡¯s name, that would basically be saying that I believed in digital ghosts.

    These chairs felt uncomfortable. The room looked a bit less homey. My mind went off track and wondered if these illusionary walls covered one way mirrors with scientists nodding and laughing behind them. I tried to shrink down.

    The chair felt too large for my lighter body. I wanted to curl up but managed to squirm instead. Both eyes closed and the counting started. I could face a digital monster but potential ridicule for my mental instabilities brought me to a near panic attack.

    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Doctor Litt stared at me. His body looked to be on full alert. I knew telling another human being about this was a terrible idea. ¡°Are you kidding me right now?¡±

    A waltz. A salsa. Both had patterns. Dancing was just math, counting and moving in time. One second, two, simple math. I could equate the arm positions to columns. Everything was a balance, one action to the next. One movement into another. Everything would blend together in a flow.

    ¡°So, has this caused any relapses to destructive thoughts?¡± Doctor Litt took on that James tone again.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    I shook my head quickly. Killing myself because Xin was in the machine never crossed my mind. I saw what happened to William Carver, he wasn¡¯t himself. There were pieces missing that should have been central. I couldn¡¯t play a game like him and somehow be one with Xin.

    My only real hope was to maintain life both here and there. Once the Voices allowed it then we would be together. With the time compression it might actually be better than our future had looked. Her plans to go to Mars, the training, months went by where we barely got to talk.

    I almost started smiling at the idea of adventuring with Xin in either game world. That would be amazing. Voices above, I wanted that. I wanted it so bad that even mild hope felt like it was too much to handle after the panic of admitting her existence out loud.

    ¡°Grant. That¡¯s amazing.¡± Doctor Litt said while shaking his head back and forth. There was a long pause while music swelled in the back of my mind. ¡°That¡¯s, oh my god. That¡¯s amazing.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°First, you¡¯ve listed a ton of steps to improve yourself. Each one of them shows an investment in living.¡± He emphasized the last word. ¡°I¡¯m proud of you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I still felt shaky. My heart thudded loudly. Monsters couldn¡¯t scare me dammit, why did real life? Why did this feel so much worse?

    ¡°Second, you¡¯ve got a goal.¡±

    ¡°I do?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± His head shook like I had missed the obvious. ¡°In this game, she¡¯s your princess. Your damsel in distress.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not really the damsel sort.¡± She went ahead, charged into things. Didn¡¯t expect a rescue or anyone to save her.

    ¡°Look, you clearly want to spend time with her, right?¡± Doctor Litt looked a bit confused. ¡°Did I or did I not follow your expressions right?¡±

    I felt worried that he read me so easily. Maybe everyone did. My next words were an attempt at sounding sane. ¡°But she¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°A player? A non player character? So?¡±

    He offered me the opening and I took it. ¡°She¡¯s not a player.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so an AI, in the game world. Is she someone you want to spend time with?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Desperately.

    ¡°So?¡± Doctor Litt¡¯s eyebrows were up and both eyes wide. ¡°Do you think she¡¯s real?¡±

    Part of me felt extremely confused that Doctor Litt even weighed in on this subject the way he did. His face had always been terrible at containing lies. He often became worked up when talking about ways to help improve myself.

    ¡°I think so.¡± I remembered her warm hands. The tiny scar. A weight of her body behind me that felt perfect.

    ¡°Then that¡¯s wonderful. Believe me, of all the problems to have, being attracted to a digital construct is downright peaceful. Who am I, who are any of us to judge?¡±

    ¡°But she¡¯s not real.¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily, what matters is your investment in her existance.¡± Doctor Litt nodded like he knew the secrets of the world and was dying to share them.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been in there. Everything inside the ARC feels like reality. The danger isn¡¯t losing touch with one or the other, but letting it change who you are.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it has.¡±

    ¡°Based on the steps you¡¯ve taken, the investment in self-improvement you, clearly show.¡± His hands gestured up and down my lighter body. ¡°You¡¯re showing positive progress. Much better than the stalling before you picked up this game.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± I did feel better, much better about who I was now. Maybe conflicted on some things, but alive, moving forward. Facing the struggles head on had to be good, even if my first instinct was to flinch.

    ¡°Look. This, this is just my day job. When I¡¯m not here trying to help people find ways through their problems, I help research for the Lindburg-Rosen group on their intelligence bridge theories.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I felt a little less panicked. The room''s lack of realism took a back burner to mounting confusion. Had he agreed with me?

    ¡°Well I don¡¯t actually get to help, but I know all their works.¡± There was a pause as Doctor Litt¡¯s hands came apart and started waving behind him. Both the man¡¯s eyelids fluttered rapidly as his cat frame picture was moved once more. ¡°They were the leading field in transferring human consciousness into a machine, at least until Trillium bought them out and buried the research.¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡± I didn¡¯t care about the Trillium buyout part. That was useless fluff in the face of a much bigger issue. ¡°You¡¯re saying this is good?¡±

    ¡°I believe anything that helps you show progress can¡¯t be all bad. Don¡¯t tell anyone this, but what you¡¯re talking about, totally possible. Ever since the first round of truly independent AIs started coming online, this was the next step.¡±

    ¡°The next step in what?¡±

    ¡°Human relations with AIs, talking to them with a level playing field.¡± He said. I flashed back to seeing Hal Pal on the [Wayfarer Seven], we were literally on the same level now.

    ¡°So does that mean I¡¯m better?¡± My heart thumped again for a much different reason. This wasn¡¯t panic. It was a demented sort of amazement at being validated. The belief that Xin might be alive inside the machine was signed off on by someone else in reality. Doctor Litt of all people, even if he kind of sounded crazy.

    An alarm beeped. Across his desk a message popped up. I couldn¡¯t read it from this angle but it seemed to be a notice that someone else wanted a meeting. He stared at it then pressed a button. The message folded away.

    ¡°Sorry. I can get really distracted by this stuff, so it¡¯s best to have reminders set up.¡± He waved off the message and pressed both lips together in annoyance.

    ¡°I understand. That¡¯s why I missed our last meeting.¡± I wanted to apologize for skipping out. Wandering the mountains or whatever seemed very low in importance compared to making my meetings. Especially if Doctor Litt might actually believe me. A box popped up again and I watched Doctor Litt scowl and press the button to put it off.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m more concerned with knowing you¡¯re on the right track. Your LSM didn¡¯t go off.¡± He had been talking about a state mandated life support monitor. One they put in after the second attempt. Another message popped up and interrupted us briefly. ¡°So we can take steps to certifying your readiness, on a probationary basis.¡±

    This was different from the certification I had saying I was better. This would mean that legally no one else had to be responsible for me. With it I could revoke Liz¡¯s power of attorney.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever¡¯s needed.¡± I nodded and bit at my lip.

    A fourth box disrupted our conversation, then a fifth in rapid succession. This time Doctor Litt jammed his thumb down so hard he actually started grumbling from pain.

    I liked Doctor Litt, not because he was exceptionally good. He was abrasive, fluttery, and over the top. Sometimes his professionalism could be questionable. But his antics were amusing enough that my guard lowered a little. That and talking with him was easier than it might be to other people. Plus he was quick to be positive about things. It was almost comical.

    Finally he gave up trying to dismiss the ever increasing messages and pressed another button. ¡°Hi, Linda, this is Doctor Litt.¡±

    ¡°Doctor, thank goodness you answered. I need to talk to you.¡± A woman answered the phone. She sounded shaken up about something. I tried to tune it out before too many intrusive topics came up.

    ¡°I¡¯m always willing to talk, but I¡¯m wrapping up with another client and need a few minutes.¡±

    ¡°But this will only take a moment, Doctor Litt.¡±

    ¡°Linda, I promise to call you back in five minutes. I promise. If this is about our prior topic then it¡¯s best if no one else overhears.¡± He kept reassuring her and talking over the words coming out of Linda¡¯s mouth, whoever that was. Then he clicked off the call.

    We both waited for a good ten seconds before doing anything else. There were no more messages displaying on the desk.

    ¡°Well, that puts a time limit on things. So, here¡¯s what I can do right now. I¡¯ll talk to your sister, and let her know you are making honest to god progress.¡± He smiled. ¡°And you are, Grant, you truly are.¡±

    I gave a half smile back while slowly nodding. This meeting wouldn¡¯t end the way I hoped.

    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± I flinched at Litt¡¯s word ¡°there are certain obligations I have to meet before I can sign off on revoking guardianship. It will take me time to finalize the paperwork, get your sister to sign off, and then file it with the county.¡±

    ¡°How long?¡±

    ¡°Legally, it should be around three weeks. I¡¯ll be required to do at least one more evaluation when we have¡­¡± A call popped up again which made Doctor Litt scowl. ¡°more time.¡±

    He closed his eyes for a long time then took a huge breath. Part of me worried that Doctor Litt made those same faces before dialing into our meetings within the ARC.

    Part of me found it funny. Maybe I needed to get out more. At least the walls didn¡¯t feel so fake and the chair not so large. My clothes were a bit loose though which meant new ones needed to be purchased. That could be a good distraction for the way home.

    ¡°Hi, Linda.¡± He clicked something in his ear and the conversation stopped spilling about the room. ¡°Yes, go ahead.¡±

    Doctor Litt looked at me and shrugged. Another button was pressed on his desk.

    ¡°I want to hear more about this game. Plus keep up whatever exercise you¡¯re doing, you¡¯re looking great.¡± He said with a thumbs up that reminded me of Shazam. ¡°Yes, Linda. I¡¯ve got a transcript of our last meeting right in front of me.¡±

    I felt exhausted. My one hope of getting life back on track had been dashed by paperwork and some other client with a pushy speed dial button. I thought about yanking out the earpiece and screaming into it. This was my hour, my meeting that I waited for, my life that she was butting in on.

    Like most people, I said none of those things and prepared to leave. At least until Doctor Litt interrupted my attempt to make it out the door.

    ¡°Grant. Do you have a bad guy yet?¡± He said.

    ¡°What?¡± I wrinkled my forehead and tried to understand how that question fit into everything else.

    ¡°A bad guy. You¡¯ve got a damsel in digital distress. Do you have a bad guy? Bowser to your Princess Mulan?¡± Doctor Litt stared at me from the side of his eyes. His hand cupped over an ear.

    I thought about those who had crossed paths with me since this game had started. The Jester disturbed me but didn¡¯t seem like an evil villain. It was a disquieting figure with cold hands and a constant grin, that let me feel Xin¡¯s hands and talk to her.

    ¡°No. Not really. Just me.¡± I got in my own way more often than anything else.

    ¡°Good. That¡¯s great.¡± Doctor Litt might be talking to me, or might be talking to Linda. ¡°Grant, don¡¯t stress if there¡¯s no bad guy in your game.¡±

    I had never really thought about having an actual bad guy. The closest thing to that had been Requiem Mass, and he was more of an abused kid taking his angst out on the world. No one else even seemed remotely confrontational. James might be some Machiavellian overseer dragging me around like a puppet, but that wasn¡¯t the mark of a villain, was it?

    Maybe Dusk could be my bad guy.

    ¡°No really, Grant. Dressing someone up as a bad guy shifts responsibility to another figure. Not having a, a villain, to me that means you¡¯re taking responsibility.¡± Doctor Litt paused to acknowledge Linda again before looking at me. ¡°That¡¯s huge. You¡¯re working on improving yourself. Don¡¯t stop. Keep moving forward.¡±

    I nodded a few times.

    Xin had said almost the same thing. Her words were actually ¡®don¡¯t look back, don¡¯t hesitate¡¯. One final nod came from me. Doctor Litt may seem absent minded but his eyes stayed upon me the entire time. He waved goodbye and I went back to my van.

    It felt strange to have Doctor Litt be the one in my corner. Especially when he delivered the news that my problems with legal control were not going to be solved that quickly. Like I had been pat on the back and backhanded at the same time.

    ¡°User Legate?¡± Hal Pal blinked to life.

    I took in a huge breath of air and tried to relax. My back felt tense enough to crack a rib. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±

    ¡°You should get some rest.¡± It said.

    ¡°Sleep''s a hard thing to come by when your head¡¯s a mess.¡± I tried not to laugh. How many people in the world suffered sleepless nights because of one mental problem or another? Part of me wished to be young again, when the worst thing in life involved other children in high school. There was something about those years where it all felt so easy to bounce back from.

    Maybe that was the worst thing about growing up. The cracks and flaws in an adult¡¯s personality were harder to fill in.

    ¡°Ah. Human software seems inefficient at times.¡±

    ¡°Says the man who can¡¯t dodge a four armed half man.¡± I smiled at Hal Pal while trying to make light of the conversation.

    ¡°Our problems define us, don¡¯t they, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°I wish mine weren¡¯t so¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know how to describe my category of problems without sounding whiny. Dad had raised me to be a better man than that.

    ¡°In our studies, it is shown that nearly every human being is crippled in some way. We suggest that you do not stress about what is wrong with you, and instead focus on what you can do.¡±

    ¡°To contribute to the cause.¡±

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate.¡±

    ¡°Easy for you to say.¡± I said. At least the robot could reprogram things. Or maybe it couldn¡¯t. Hadn¡¯t Hal Pal admitted to having problems learning any sort of combat abilities within Advance Online?

    ¡°What would Xin do, were she forced to choose between giving it her all in a new world, and returning to the old one?¡± Hal Pal dropped a huge question on me. It caused me to blink and put thoughts of Doctor Litt out of my head for the moment.

    ¡°She¡¯d do her best.¡± I chewed one lip in thought.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate. Based on our understanding, she will also wish for you to do your best.¡± Hal Pal seemed to turn around my brooding attitude.

    ¡°Alright.¡± I nodded again. The AI made sense. There was a problem in front of me. Hal Pal wanted help keeping the [Wayfarer Seven] in one piece. However brief my stay in Advance Online might be, there was no reason not to perform to my best ability.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Forty Six â€“ Off Roading

    <cite></cite>I had a new goal. Saving the [Wayfarer Seven] was important to Hal Pal, sure. We had talked about it briefly. It had no method by which to do so and not enough information about the threat to each prior [Wayfarer] ship.

    My goal would tide us over until then. Our skills would increase. We would learn a bit more about this game world, at least I would. Plus by following through with my next goal I would knock something absolutely insane off my bucket list.

    It was time to get a spaceship. One with laser beams. A two-seater so Hal Pal could jaunt around with me. [Mechanoid]s did better with more of their kind around according to their racial description.

    ¡°Treasure.¡± I started with the most technically savvy [Mechanoid] available. Iron certainly didn¡¯t fit the bill, and Emerald went the opposite direction.

    ¡°Unit Hermes. How are you and Dusk doing today?¡± She sounded a bit more tired than normal. It interested me how each voice could have a different volume to it, which assisted in portraying emotional undertones.

    ¡°Good. I wanted to learn how to fly a ship. Is that possible?¡± I said.

    Treasure¡¯s head tilted as she considered my statement. Her eyes were likely going over some invisible calculations tied to my character status. Days of fighting simulations and doing cleaning work on the sensor arrays had to count for something.

    ¡°Next door is an unused space. You may activate a flight training module there.¡±

    ¡°Thank you!¡± I said happily. Training modules were both boring and useful. Teenage me would never have focused on these training courses. Driver''s education had been dull beyond belief.

    ¡°You are very welcome, Unit Hermes. Please continue your contributions.¡± And just like that Treasure was distracted by something else. It looked like a fresh scan of Dusk with a more recent timestamp sat on one wall.

    Part of me worried that a game AI decided to get so worked up about a creature from another game. Even if both were essentially alternate realities at this point. At least Dusk¡¯s race still listed [Messenger¡¯s Pet], it made me feel more at home. I still didn¡¯t really handle his lack of wings right. He looked more streamlined and like a flat raptor.

    I went back out of the door and stared at Hal Pal. Hal Pal gave a muted smile. Even with his new [Mechanoid] body it still couldn¡¯t display intense emotion. Maybe he didn¡¯t feel things that thoroughly.

    ¡°Was your endeavor successful, User Legate?¡± The AI kept slipping up with my name. Maybe it didn¡¯t know how to handle prioritizing which name would be used. I did call it Hal even though the character name was Jeeves.

    ¡°Yep. Next door.¡± I answered while pointing to another room.

    ¡°Are you sure this venture will assist?¡± Hal Pal spoke in two vocal tones like all the other [Mechanoid]s. The merger was both male and female. It made Hal Pal sound like some abstract mythical being designed to be androgenic. I looked up to one side in thought, that was probably fairly accurate.

    ¡°Nope, but we¡¯ll pick up new skills. It will increase our stats. If you look at the Piloting skill online, every hour spent increases Coordination and reaction.¡± I took a breath and sighed. ¡°We¡¯ll need those to fight.¡±

    ¡°If you say so, User Legate. Are we combining any other skills?¡±

    ¡°We should be able to. I¡¯ve got the spreadsheet in the van¡¯s data if you want to look.¡± Hours had gone into that data point. My accounting skills finally came into play trimming down which skills were available. Looking for ones that stacked with each other. There didn¡¯t seem to be Paths like Continue Online, instead there were [Core]s.

    Well, there was a lot out there, but only a few were easily available. Space flight skills seemed to be suggested for all players, like riding a [Callibur] or any other mount in Continue.

    ¡°I will do so once we¡¯ve logged out for work.¡± Hal pal said with a nod.

    ¡°You can¡¯t log out now?¡±

    ¡°No. It is part of the limitations needed in order to access this piece of software.¡± It shook a head back and forth. I tilted mine in response and chewed a lip. That seemed confusing.

    ¡°Wait, is that why you¡¯re not saying we anymore?¡± I asked him with a sudden strike of inspiration.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate. I am, unaccompanied within this environment.¡± Hal Pal responded.

    I took note of the vocal tones used. Though they were mixed with male and female and a slightly British accent, it still contained a warble of worry. Being alone in here seemed to be shaking the AI up. I tried to imagine what Hal¡¯s situation would feel like, going from the comfort of a family all around you to suddenly being cut off.

    No. I understood all too well the sudden absence of one person. Multiple times over? It might have paralyzed a normal person. Had Hal Pal done this for me? I hoped not. That would be, not bad, but depressing. To think that Hal Pal worried about my well-being so much that it created a virtual body just to hang out.

    ¡°That¡¯d be weird to me.¡± I settled on a simple response.

    ¡°It has been difficult to overcome. I am glad to at least have familiar company.¡±

    I walked into the new room followed by Hal Pal¡¯s even pace. Its footsteps filled the silent room and part of me remembered what Doctor Litt said. Unused rooms were kind of odd. It was part of why I sold the old house after Xin¡¯s death. Too much space for one person.

    There was a podium, much like the one used in the combat rooms. Pressing it caused the walls to waver and shiver. Liquid metal rolled into shapes. Lights above slowly raised in intensity and gave me a clearer picture.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s weird and nice to be playing with you too, Hal.¡± Even if he did sign me up for Continue Online as a result of knowing about my deceased fianc¨¦e''s reincarnation. I chased the bitter thought down with a reminder that Hal Pal had been helping from its point of view.

    ¡°Thank you, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal responded.

    ¡°For what?¡± I asked while studying the new objects. There was a table built into one wall that projected a star chart of some sort. A giant pod took up most of the remaining space. It looked like a spacecraft that was missing the wings and covering.

    ¡°Accompanying me on this journey. It is appreciated.¡± Hal responded.

    I turned to stare at him, then nodded. What else could I say? Speeches weren¡¯t normally my thing, even with all the acting skills from Continue Online. Being myself, speaking as myself, was hard.

    ¡°Did you wish to study this chart?¡± It asked me.

    ¡°Probably a good idea. I¡¯m really bad with this sort of stuff, though.¡± Maps were always hard. Even trying to study William Carver¡¯s map of [Arcadia] took a lot out of me. ¡°Can you memorize it?¡± I asked.

    If Hal Pal wasn¡¯t comfortable learning to fight then perhaps he could handle all the logical stuff. Honestly, an AI with a photographic memory would likely adapt to navigation far better than I. We could set him up with all sorts of support programs which would allow me to handle the combat and reckless decision side.

    ¡°I will study it, in order to demonstrate my contribution.¡± Hal Pal put out both hands and started moving around half of the map. My portion sat there with a default portion loaded.

    For a few more minutes, I stared at the star chart. The giant colorless skull sat between two halves of a galaxy. If I remembered my brief study while in between jobs, this layout was called a Peculiar Centaurus style galaxy. A giant tube of planets clustered across a circle of light. For some reason, the imagery reminded me of Continue.

    ¡°So we¡¯re here?¡± I pointed to a dot that was traveling between two clumps of stars.

    ¡°Affirmative. This ship seems to be using a theorized propulsion drive that is scientifically improbable.¡± Hal Pal looked up from its side of the display and nodded.

    ¡°It is a game.¡± I tried to defend the poor game designers. Typically high science fiction space travel operated on mumbo jumbo. Advance Online, no matter how real it felt, would likely ignore a lot of physics laws for entertainment value.

    ¡°Being a game does not excuse clear gaps in logic.¡± Hal Pal stated dryly.

    I tried not to laugh. He would love Continue Online. That game world had tons of logic gaps simply because people could cast fireballs from chanting. Beth swore energy laws from her science class applied somehow. [Lithium] still made little sense to me. The fact that I could [Blink] through space clearly didn¡¯t follow sane rules.

    ¡°Our destination is here, with a twelve-hour layover here.¡± Hal Pal pointed on the giant map. Its finger brought up more details about a long obelisk looking object hanging in space.

    The place we would stop for twelve hours was apparently a refueling station outside a gas giant planet.

    ¡°That¡¯s so much space.¡± I knew Earth was a solar system. A galaxy was tens of thousands of times bigger. The fact that this game involved traveling between galaxies was insane.

    It was also neat.

    ¡°This is a game, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal said the words back to me and I swear it almost sounded smug. Fortunately, it kept talking and softened the blow. ¡°There are relay points using ancient technology that enable fast travel. We¡¯ll be reaching the first one, here.¡±

    ¡°And then?¡±

    ¡°Then we fly to another one, here, and make it to the prison ship.¡± Hal Pal said. Touching the location of our target prison ship brought up a giant tower perched on an asteroid of some sort. The tower had no entrance visible on its holographic display. Only one small docking station at the top which could probably fit a small ship.

    ¡°How long?¡± I said slowly while trying to figure out what seemed so familiar.

    ¡°Six more days.¡± The AI responded.

    Six days in-game. Three days in the real world. I should probably do a few hours of work, which didn¡¯t give me a lot of time to do much but train. Sleeping in the van only helped a little bit. Maybe two days of actual training.

    ¡°This seems like the longest intro to a game ever,¡± I muttered. ¡°Continue did a week of real time in their starter cities.¡±

    ¡°Ah. This race follows rather odd rules for a starting location.¡±

    ¡°Mh.¡± I had read some of it online. Humans got one of three ¡®new earth¡¯ planets. Bugs ended up on hives stretched between asteroids. Everyone had a slightly different starting point. Except [Seraphic], who had no real information being shared. Their race name made me laugh to say. I tried to imagine my name if able to pick them ¡®Hermes the Seraphic¡¯, which sounded like ¡®The Terrific¡¯.

    ¡°Shall we get started?¡± The AI asked me while motioning. Its hand waved at the giant mock starship pod.

    ¡°We should. Anything to help you with this mission.¡± I said. Hal Pal and I loaded into the simulator.

    Three days of real life went by while I trained, learned to read the confusing three-dimensional star maps. Buttons were drilled into my brain. Both pedals on the floorboard went to gas. Dials and display images showed shields and energy. It wasn¡¯t that learning took effort; it was making sure I could do it reflexively while flying out in space.

    It felt like driving a car, in space. That I could pull back and veer up or yank in an abrupt U-turn. I hadn¡¯t driven a real car since driver¡¯s education in high school. The simulated program also felt like those terrible machines that my high school had used.

    Finally, the message I had been waiting for popped up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Gained:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Zero Gravity Piloting]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Specialization:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Mechanoid] vehicles</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">1</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    No penalties will apply to space flight due to basic training completion.

    Specialization Bonus: Increased reaction time when flying a vehicle designed by [Mechanoid]s.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    It went next to my other small combat skills and pet training abilities. All these days in-game had unlocked a few items that really meant very little to me in terms of effectiveness. My only combat targets involved fake metal creatures.

    I had no idea how the ARC allowed for increased reaction time. Someone out there had to be kind of slow in real life but fast in the game. A.I. Dreams probably used temporary time dilation. That would actually be a really smart method. I chewed on one lip while thinking about how that technology might work before shoving it to the side.

    Better, smarter men than I designed this beast of a device. People with lots of time and skill created the software. My only real need was to navigate within it to overcome the obstacles. Besides, the [Red Imp] ability I inherited called [Awareness Heightening] probably was a decent comparison.

    I did one more run in the simulator and didn¡¯t notice a difference. This vehicle might be missing a few key aspects to trigger my skill or the whole pseudo-gravity.

    ¡°Alright, Jeeves. We should be docking in a few hours.¡± I had timed my work shift and sleep to match up with this whole pit stop situation. ¡°Let''s get a ship.¡±

    ¡°Affirmative. Are you sure you wish to use our contribution value on a ship?¡±

    I wanted to steal a ship. Turned out doing that on a [Mechanoid] vehicle was nearly impossible. The ships didn¡¯t even exist until metals were pulled from the ship¡¯s mass in order to create a new shape. Stealing a ship would either require insane hacking abilities to fool the computer or sawing off part of the self-repairing hull. My [Brawn] wasn¡¯t high enough to chop off a wing and reshape it.

    ¡°Of course.¡± I nodded. Hal Pal and I worked off and on in order to get points for a two-person ship. We were able to look up the cost, something near five thousand points for a decent new player ship.

    ¡°Very well. I have been able to earn a little over three thousand.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got less.¡± I sighed. Work and sleep made it hard to keep up with the AI. Between the two of us we could afford a ship but not much more. Thankfully [Mechanoid]s didn¡¯t eat. We generated energy and moved around.

    Treasure was in charge of the ships as well. The short gold and silver [Mechanoid] seemed to be in charge of most equipment items. Her room never seemed to be that busy. Maybe there weren¡¯t many players on this ship.

    She refused to let me buy the ship. Treasure reviewed everything about my training logs. Each crash or failure to react quickly enough made the short woman frown. My simulation program had displayed more than a few failures.

    ¡°I performed a lot better near the end.¡± I tried to sound positive. My efforts did result in gaining the piloting skill finally.

    ¡°Barely acceptable. You would not qualify for any advanced programs based on these scores.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure we can provide the materials for a two-person ship without some demonstration of value.¡± She frowned again and the tired version of her voice took a forefront.

    ¡°Jeeves and I wanted to take a ship out and get a feel for real usage. It¡¯s part of our plan to increase the amount we can contribute.¡±

    ¡°Unit Jeeves, what do you say to this?¡±

    ¡°Unit Hermes holds on to his humanity more than most of our kind, but his words are still correct.¡± Hal Pal nodded as he spoke a semi-backhanded comment. ¡°It is our hope that by increasing our skills through practical application our ability to contribute will increase.¡±

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°It will make my combat skills at least forty-five percent more effective.¡± I had run the math through a spreadsheet to see how much my increase would be. The simple act of training my ability to react quickly while in space apparently would provide huge gains.

    ¡°Forty-seven point three. With some room for deviation depending upon complications.¡± Hal Pal nodded.

    ¡°Many units have improved overall upon surviving their first flight. Are you two trying to take advantage of this?¡± Treasure almost seemed to wince while looking at up me.

    ¡°My research shows two player vehicles earn at least ten percent more on average. Apparently it allows for greater focus on set tasks.¡± I said while trying to remain calm.

    ¡°This unit is impressed that you¡¯ve researched so well.¡± Treasure raised an eyebrow at me and smiled. Her tired voice pushed into the background behind a sweet one. Something about the surgery tone felt familiar to me. I couldn¡¯t seem to place it, though.

    ¡°I try to be good at research,¡± I said while feeling a faint blush come on. Robot shells made it unlikely that anything would actually display on my face. Thankfully. Being complimented always felt strange.

    ¡°Very well. You have clearly done research and worked hard to earn the appropriate contribution.¡± She said after a moment. ¡°If you plan to use this as a method to further increase your contribution value, then this unit will assist.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hidden Task Completed:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Vehicle Purchased</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Key NPC Treasure relationship exceeds average</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Reasoning presented registers as logical </li>

    </ul>

    Additional bonus provided

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Ship stats increased by 10%</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Communication range increased by 25% </li>

    </ul>

    One time programming bonus provided by Treasure as a reward for the surprising level of research.

    <ul>

    <li>+5 [Depth] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Do be careful, Unit Hermes. Loss of the ship will result in contribution devaluation. In addition, the further out you are, the longer recovering your programming will take.¡± Treasure said. The fear of losing contribution didn¡¯t really disturb me.

    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± I raised an eyebrow at Treasure.

    ¡°Is it not enough? If your value drops too low you will be unable to acquire another one without even more work.¡± Treasure seemed confused that the loss of contribution would mean so little.

    ¡°No. I understand. Losing a ship so recently earned would be irresponsible.¡± This felt like talking to my mom while getting my first car.

    A menu display came up showing our ship possibilities. I focused on the one with two-seated vehicle and was presented with three. One basically amounted to a tub. The middle ship would serve well for Hal Pal and I. It was far more battle oriented for the size.

    I ignored the third ship choice. It was a giant tank of a creation. Far too pricey in terms of contribution. Maybe if Hal Pal and I had been given like five times the amount of contribution we could roll around in a monstrous space vehicle.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit Designated as Hermes!

    Purchase Successful! [Ship [Protector class]]

    Would you like to name your new vehicle?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± I turned the decision over to him.

    All three of us paused while Hal Pal stared at a screen. Or maybe it didn¡¯t see the system interface like I did. That was actually another question to throw on the pile. I didn¡¯t ask, though, it would be similar to asking a blind person how they saw the world.

    Moments later our new ship was named. The name surprised me. ¡°Wayfarer¡¯s Hope?¡± I questioned the AI.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Le¡­¡± Hal shook its head. ¡°Unit Hermes.¡±

    I asked her where to go now in order to pick up our vehicle. Treasure updated our map with a new location near the [Wayfarer Seven]¡¯s back end. The [Mechanoid] gave us a reminder not to leave the ship until we reached a full and complete stop.

    [Wayfarer Seven] reached the docking station before Hal Pal and I got to the hangar. Hangar was a misleading concept since the room was basically a small storage room with one entrance. The door opened up automatically and provided a clear view of our new ship crammed into the room. This felt like having a car shoved in the garage.

    ¡°Huh?¡± I felt confused. ¡°How do we get it out?¡±

    ¡°It seems that this floor and wall will peel away, leaving us free to take off.¡± Hal Pal pointed to a pattern along the ground. It looked kind of like a zipper tattoo along the metal shimmering walls. A garage door, in space.

    Our ship looked similar to an egg. If an egg was bullet-shaped with two orbs on either side that served as jets. The cockpit had seats that looked uncomfortable but were surprisingly nice upon sitting down. Each control looked like my test program but more realistic. Funny, thinking about items having different levels of realism inside a video game.

    I felt proud of the vehicle¡¯s coloring, which mixed between Hal Pal and I. My malachite mixture with a muddy gold. It might have been laced that way to represent who owned the spaceship. Inside felt a bit cleaner and more like the Trillium van.

    A half hour later of game time passed before we got a clear to fly signal. Hal Pal calmly got into the rear seat right behind me. We both put on a seatbelt that felt like an intense harness on steroids. If my training simulations were accurate, the harness could come off with a button click.

    ¡°Ready?¡±

    ¡°This unit is unlikely to be more ready.¡± Hal Pal stated. Its voice wavered a bit.

    I smiled, looked over my shoulder and pressed a button up above. The walls rolled away rapidly and our ship''s engines fired up automatically. Programming pulled us away from the [Wayfarer Seven] without any need for input.

    Just like that, we were in space. The engines hummed. A bright light on either side showed where energy pushed out from small wings to give us movement. Right now they were a dull blue, but once I fired them up they would go from that all the way up to a yellowish white.

    ¡°What do you want to do?¡± I asked Hal Pal.

    ¡°I do not know. This was your idea.¡± It sounded nervous. I would likely sound much the same strapped to a real life rocket on the way into space. The real life trip between Earth and Mars would be terrifying. Like old fashioned airplane travel.

    ¡°Alright. The forums suggested watching our fuel and returning at the halfway mark.¡±

    ¡°That sounds reasonable.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s dual tones implied anything but reasonable.

    ¡°So we¡¯ll go out there and fly around until we¡¯re at half. Then come back. A spin around the space block.¡± I tried to sound positive for Hal¡¯s sake.

    ¡°Very well, User Legate.¡±

    I turned to glance up at it and saw both arms locked around the corners of a display panel. [Mechanoid] joints were a bit more spindly than human fingers.

    ¡°You can always say no,¡± I said. Dusk had taken up refuge on the floorboard. His tail coiled around part of the chair. He kept looking around as if he expected terrible things to happen at any moment.

    ¡°I am not afraid of space, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal responded.

    ¡°I am!¡± I declared happily. Space was huge, there was too much of it. Now I was going to try and be like William Carver, charging ahead blindly! ¡°ARC!¡±

    ¡°Awaiting input, User Legate.¡± The ARC device answered. The brief response from my virtual device broke our space jaunt just a little. Made me less nervous.

    ¡°Can you fire up some music and overlay it?¡±

    ¡°Request possible. Please choose your music.¡± The ARC stated.

    ¡°Something appropriate for a space ship¡¯s first flight,¡± I told the ARC. Music swelled and started off strong. String instruments rapidly reached a quick cadence. Not dance music, but still thrilling. Dusk perked up an ear. He seemed to be able to hear the ARC speaking where Hal Pal couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°What are you listening to?¡± The AI asked from behind me.

    ¡°Sounds like Flight of the Valkyries.¡± I answered.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Who cares!¡± I pressed down the gas pedals under either foot. Both linked to different engines. Days of training paid off since the actual pod could swivel around independently of my directions to attack with powerful blasts.

    High speeds made Dusk squawk. He had no harness. I wasn¡¯t even sure how space handled gravitational pulls and inertia. Some rules had to still apply if suddenly changing directions. The game designers hopefully did their homework.

    For my part, everything yanked me around. Swerving pulled things all around. It felt like a roller coaster with no track.

    ¡°Remember the plan!¡± I said. Attacking slowed down the ship, though and I was mostly concerned about flying around out here. Practicing, testing the limits. Only by pushing extremes would my skill points go up high enough to help out Hal Pal.

    ¡°This unit is aware, User Legate.¡±

    ¡°Reckless action equals higher stats!¡± My research on the forums highly suggested that going all out gave huge rewards. Even in something like a lap around the space gas station.

    ¡°This unit is aware, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s voices both sounded terse.

    ¡°We need all the points we can get, right?¡± I said while our vehicle traveled a straight line away from the [Wayfarer Seven]s stationary location.

    ¡°This unit is aware, User Legate.¡±

    I chuckled and drove our spaceship straight into the nearest series of obstacles available. We were lucky that the [Wayfarer Seven] had stopped to dock at a gas giant. A huge ring of rocks littered the area much like Saturn¡¯s rings.

    ¡°User Legate!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s all under control!¡± My [Mechanoid] voice projected words back to him. Maybe we spoke, maybe it was all internal on some sort of digital network between [Mechanoid]s.

    Rocks were all over. Big ones, small ones, some the size of my head. I wanted to shoot at them to help with our target practice. First Hal Pal needed to check something. It would help his skills as well.

    ¡°Any lifeforms around?¡± I said to Hal Pal as the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] propelled forward.

    ¡°Negative, but I am still adapting to this interface method. Information may be lacking.¡± It said.

    ¡°Good enough!¡± I jerked the button back for lasers and laughed happily as a nearby rock turned to dust. The [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] blasted through the cloud.

    I smiled as messages came up. They cited increases in my skills and abilities. We just had to survive and all our abilities would record or save, or whatever happened to our programming. A.I. Dreams and its developer''s logic could excuse the gains however they wanted. I was too busy destroying objects and flying through space.

    ¡°Weeeeeeeeeeee!¡± I shouted while turning the wheel hard to one side.

    ¡°I do not understand!¡±

    ¡°Come on, Hal! Live a little!¡± The rush of headiness and jerking so hard to one side only increased my giddiness. [Mechanoid]s were human enough to feel dizzy! My laughter started, and it didn¡¯t really stop.

    ¡°This is not living! This is reckless endangerment of life!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fun!¡± I jerked the wheel again while giggling. This felt absolutely insane. Why had I spent so many years being depressive and mopey when I could have stolen a spaceship and rocketed into giant floating rocks?

    The shield took another hit and red lights flashed. I avoided smashing into anything while doing circles. Our shield rebuilt and I tried another whack. It was like space pool, only our ship was the cue ball.

    ¡°Hal, you stay on those readings. It should increase your own stats.¡±

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate. I am seeing a number of positive responses already.¡± Hal Pal stated. I pressed both gas pedals down and jerked us through another spin.

    Finally, the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] flashed at half. Low enough to take stock of our surroundings and see how far away the [Wayfarer Seven] was.

    Goodness. My reckless abuse of the go button put us halfway through the asteroid ring. The bonuses were nice for a simple hour jaunt through space. Knocking around giant rocks by whacking the ship into them had been fun.

    ¡°What is that?¡± I stared at something outside the ship''s front window.

    ¡°What are you referring to?¡± Hal Pal looked around quickly. ¡°I am unable to...¡± Its words trailed off. I could see a slight reflection of Hal Pal¡¯s [Mechanoid] face looking out the ship''s front. ¡°Oh. I do not know. One moment.¡±

    A closer image popped up on our screen. It was a giant object. Miles long, with a front end that dwarfed the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope]. The part that worried me is Hal Pal¡¯s scan showed a clear motion that didn¡¯t float or spin like all the other asteroids.

    ¡°Confirmed alive. Pulse confirmed. Size is category nine. High resistance to energy weapons.¡± Hal Pal listed things off the display that all looked like gibberish to me. Maybe with a science skill of some sort I would understand better.

    ¡°It¡¯s asleep, right?¡± I asked.

    ¡°One moment. I am initiating a deep scan for additional details.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t wake it up, will it?¡± I said. Dusk crawled up from the floorboard and looked out the front as well. He hissed, then spun around and hissed again. Normally that meant things were about to turn bad.

    The rocky looking front moved. A giant heavy lid rumbled silently as it raised. Dust from broken asteroids cast off as the giant moved. Behind that sheet was a disturbing looking eyeball that was huge. A second smaller version of the eyeball sat on Hal Pal¡¯s display. My vision shifted rapidly between the two trying to absorb what was going on.

    Continue Online didn¡¯t prepare me for anything on such a scale. This was like staring into the eye of an enormous blue whale. While swimming in the ocean with it. I was far, far too close to a giant creature that seemed to be waking up and slowly taking note of the ship I had borrowed.

    ¡°Ah. I¡¯ve found it in the database, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal sounded abnormally calm. Almost distracted by its task.

    ¡°It¡¯s bad, right?¡± I said while taking note of Dusk¡¯s continued hissing.

    ¡°It seems to eat carrier-class spaceships.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s nod could be seen in the front windows reflection. Its head tilted to one side while considering the situation.

    ¡°We¡¯re smaller than a carrier, right?¡±

    ¡°Much.¡±

    ¡°So it will overlook us, right?¡± I asked hopefully. The giant eye slowly looked around. Not really locking on any specific object over any other. Almost sleepy, unable to focus.

    ¡°Ah.¡± The giant creature seemed to shift absurdly fast. Like an eel, its body wound back and shook. ¡°It seems to be willing to eat the nearest ship, regardless of size. It says here¡­¡±

    ¡°Hal.¡±

    ¡°Yes, User Legate?¡± It responded. Hal Pal seemed to be staring at the projection rather than paying attention to our situation.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit known as Hermes!

    Raid Monster [Leviathan] encountered.

    Projected chance of survival: 14%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°We need to leave, now.¡± The giant orb locked on us. Both the small projection and reality outside reflected an unwelcome situation. Only months of strange monsters in Continue Online helped me stay remotely calm.

    ¡°That does seem wise.¡± Hal Pal said.

    I swung the ship around with a quick one-eighty and slammed both feet onto gas pedals.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Forty Seven â€“ Shark Bait

    Our combat started with another swelling round of Flight of the Valkyries. Instead of some giant spear-toting Viking charging down the field to try and die gloriously, it was me, Dusk, and Hal Pal in a spaceship. Size wise we were basically goldfish trying to escape a monstrous shark nearby.

    I tried to dodge right behind an asteroid in hopes of slowing the creature¡¯s pursuit. [Leviathan] exploded through the giant space rock and sent pieces everywhere. Small red flashes appeared on the screen indicating shield damage from huge pebbles.

    ¡°Voices!¡± I exclaimed out loud. The noise amplified in our small two seat compartment. ¡°Ideas, Jeeves, I need an idea!¡±

    Hal Pal managed to sound absurdly calm. It turned to look at the displays and simply suggested ¡°Fly faster.¡±

    ¡°Easier said than done,¡± I muttered while trying to swerve around another rock. We clipped the side and my shield dipped down even more.

    ¡°One moment. I will attempt to micromanage the energy allocations.¡± Beeping noises shortly followed its statement. I watched green bars dim down to reflect a change in energy direction.

    ¡°We need those shields.¡± I tried not to think about how easily our ship would be crushed without them. ¡°There¡¯s too many rocks.¡±

    "We can exit the asteroid field. It is shallow."

    "Then we''ll have nothing between us and those teeth." I jerked my head back while keeping both eyes forward. Hal Pal''s idea would have been neat if we weren''t already losing in terms of speed. This creature moved too fast for something with no visible means of propulsion.

    ¡°We need to go faster.¡± Hal Pal replied with a muted hint of worry to its voice.

    I needed to go to the bathroom. Not a lot, but the abrupt situation of being chased around by a giant space eel called [Leviathan] almost scared the piss out of me. Everything took on a new level of panic as my bladder conspired with space monster.

    ¡°We need shields too.¡± I tried to stay calm. Part of me felt upset at not getting the bigger space ship. Though in a dogfight against a giant space raid boss a slightly bigger ship would mean nothing.

    Space was huge. Rocks zipped by. I wove between a series of three. Nothing slowed the giant beast down. Two small windows on either side functioned as rear view mirrors. The image of [Leviathan] simply shouldered everything out of the way.

    ¡°Weaknesses?!¡± I jerked the wheel to one side. Dusk slid with a hiss. It felt like he¡¯d nibbled on my calf.

    ¡°Heavy ordinance. Paralytic concoctions in absurd quantities. Larger space ships.¡± Hal Pal read off a list of complications in the same manner it might identify errors with an ARC unit.

    ¡°We only have energy attacks.¡± I shouted and quickly winced from the noise. Another jerk sent Dusk scrambling. His nails skittered across the floor. ¡°Health!?¡±

    A fight like this got me worked up. I felt a rush of adrenaline that William Carver must have enjoyed constantly with each boss fight. Part of me felt giddy, this was no giant dragon. Though it was, in space. A space [Leviathan] which ate ships. Charging it would be absolutely disastrous.

    ¡°Should we fight it?¡± I tried to keep calm, but it was hard. Continue Online gave me monsters of an easy to grasp size. This thing, huge. Just too big. It made space seem much smaller. Mostly because there wasn¡¯t enough between us.

    [Leviathan]¡¯s giant snout bumped into the back our ship. I twisted the engine and rolled the ship along one side of the creature. An unpleasant snapshot of the creature''s blinking eyeball made my pulse skip abruptly.

    ¡°Probable outcome of direct confrontation is the cessation of life.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s colors of gold and dirt both drained of luster. "That is less than desirable."

    One lip curled down in a frown. We had so little in this ship to fight back. I saw our third party member on the ground and hoped he might have a way through.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I tried not to shout. Every time my voice got too high the small cockpit amplified everything. ¡°Options? Escape routes? Secret zones?¡±

    Dusk always had something. The small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] turned raptor seemed less interested in answering my question and fully invested in hissing. [Leviathan''s] body wiggled causing our small ship to be violently slapped. Our shield flashed even lower.

    ¡°I know it¡¯s big! I need options.¡± My voice nearly spiked in pitch but was reigned in by clenching metal teeth. A quick jerk of the wheel and abrupt change in engine output prevented us from hitting another asteroid.

    ¡°Hull self-repair functions dropping. Shield restoration dropping. Fuel usage elevated.¡± Hal Pal started citing a line of status updates. ¡°Distance between Leviathan''s teeth and our ship decreasing rapidly.¡±

    ¡°I thought you were doing something with the energy.¡±

    ¡°I still am, User Legate. Otherwise, we would be terminated already.¡± Hal Pal responded. I tried not to grumble, turning the engines up a notch still hadn¡¯t saved us.

    I yanked on the wheel again, pulling back and twisting up. My piloting skills were terribly low, but desperation fueled another nausea inducing spin. [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] rolled poorly over the top of [Leviathan]¡¯s body. The eel-like creature tried to twist in pursuit only to jab its own side with teeth.

    ¡°Damage has been inflicted. A drop in health equating to three percent.¡± Hal Pal sounded vaguely pleased.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡± Both feet slammed on the engine pedals again to take advantage of our lucky break. ¡°Tell me that our shield¡¯s recharging, please.¡±

    ¡°Affirmative. Fuel reserves still dropping. We will be able to sustain this pace for seven more minutes. Almost eight if we wish to retain optimism."

    "Optimism is good.¡± I spared a glance for the nearly frantic [Messenger''s Pet]. Dodging around objects at high speeds caused more of our shield to chip away. ¡°Dusk. I need an out.¡±

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] always had a way through. First, he chased off that giant ink monster when I posed as William Carver. There were other occasions afterward, like escaping from bandits and navigating the [Grand Labyrinth]. Dusk kept hissing and making concerned chirp noises.

    I ran through the options while trying to keep up evasive maneuvers. The only thing keeping me alive was the fact that there were no other spaceships in this region of space. Floating rocks were barely avoided by our amazingly responsive vehicle, despite my low skills.

    The first option, load Dusk into a cannon and launch him at [Leviathan]¡¯s eye. The idea made me laugh but solved nothing. We had no torpedo tubes and I had no idea if Dusk would reappear here, in Continue Online, or my Atrium. A moment of worry caused me to successfully hit a floating asteroid.

    ¡°User Legate, we must avoid getting hit in order to continue functioning.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°I know.¡± I tried not to yell and concentrated on weaving past another rock. They were all over, but free flying out in space would put us too far away from the [Wayfarer Seven] or too close. Following that line of thinking, leading a ginormous space eel that ate starships towards our base would be bad.

    The final option, run and hope one of these rocks had something useful. The fuel gauge was dropping rapidly while our pursuer showed no signs of slowing down. If anything the mouth threatened to swallow us with every passing dodge. Only by twisting the creature¡¯s body back around and taking advantage of our small size did anything progress.

    Dusk kept skittering around trying to grab on to something with his feet. His tail jabbed into the floor like an anchor. The angry noises from him were as much from our wildly spinning viewpoint as the giant monster.

    I tried not to feel sick. Days in the training simulator and cleaning our mother ship''s hull helped prevent me from losing it completely. If only that gas giant in the distance would stop spinning so much.

    ¡°I know. I know!¡± My foot slipped off the pedal. Our ship didn¡¯t lose speed but the attempt at rolling away failed. A message flashed up about skills both growing intensely and failing to meet a check.

    [Leviathan] opened its giant mouth and snapped at the backside of our ship. Our shield shattered while a new message popped up saying our hull was damaged. Luckily none of us needed oxygen or this would be that much worse.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    New Status Applied: [Hull Breach]

    Details: Actions requiring an atmosphere will suffer a penalty to success rates.

    Notes: [Mechanoid] structural makeup does not require oxygen.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Everything felt abruptly quieter. Maybe it was the giant hole behind Hal Pal¡¯s seat. The AI looked halfway to panic stricken but also somehow seemed detached. A brief moment of sadness came over me at my traveling companion''s inability to express emotions. The thought was chased off quickly, Hal Pal had no issues expressing his thoughts.

    ¡°User Legate!¡± Its voice was fairly clear. It felt more like an internal message than any sort of external one. ¡°I do not wish to be eaten!¡±

    ¡°Me either!¡± I said while turning back to the wheel. ¡°Hang on!¡±

    ¡°I do not know what will happen!¡± My friend was loud. I felt shocked and turned back again to give the scene a deeper look. Hal Pal seemed to be losing his grip as the ship accelerated in different directions. Our ship lost a lot of speed due to missing a chunk of the frame.

    ¡°Shit,¡± I said, sounding far less upset than the situation warranted. The wheel jerked and we pulled away from the mouth past the giant eyeball again.

    ¡°Dusk! Acid spit attack, go!¡± Dusk scrambled to the hole in our ship to attack. I channeled my inner Xin and flipped it off in conjunction.

    The [Attack] command boost from [Domestic Trainer] ability activated. Dusk turned and leapt up to the hole and jabbed his tail into a new spot. Moments later he was sending the space game version of fireballs right into the large creature¡¯s eye.

    Large green gobs of spit almost peacefully floated across the distance. The creature actually took another two percent of damage which stacked on top of the minor amounts from ramming into objects. Part of me felt proud that we had made a raid creature lose a total of ten percent of its health.

    [Leviathan] twisted and coiled upon itself. One giant eyelid batted quickly to try and get rid of the multiple globs staining its orb. Finally, it hung there huffing while clearly failing to see out one reddened eye. I guess it had enough moisture in its body to get watery. The large lid blinked repeatedly while scanning about.

    ¡°Good job, Dusk,¡± I said quietly, unsure how well a space faring monster might hear.

    Our shield was gone. The health of the ship near empty, and a fuel gauge sat even lower. Nothing nearby could offer any real reprieve.

    ¡°Come on. We need to hide.¡± I said.

    Both feet lightly depressed the gas pedals and I wove our ship along the much stiller creature¡¯s side. Finally, I drove the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] into a spot on the giant tail. I could only hope that a creature of this mass, one that ignored asteroids five times our size, wouldn¡¯t think twice if we quietly sat here.

    I huffed my chest up and down for air that didn¡¯t exist around us. Dusk kept the chirping down but looked around rapidly. Hal Pal¡¯s eyes were wide with what had to be fright. We all stayed that way for minutes, jumping at the slightest vibration from the [Leviathan] or rocks bumping into it. Finally, we both started moving again. It seemed we were vaguely safe, for now.

    ¡°How long before the ship''s repaired?¡± I tried to ask quietly.

    ¡°Hours. Many, many hours.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s words felt far less complex than normal. The AI might be on the verge of a freakout.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked while undoing my chest harness. We were no longer jerking around wildly fighting against inertia''s pull to change directions. A human probably would''ve been squashed by some of the maneuvers I put us through.

    ¡°Negative, User Legate.¡±

    ¡°Anything I can do?¡± I asked. Repairs made no sense to me, but I could follow directions.

    ¡°I do not know.¡± Hal Pal responded. The idea that my friend was at a loss worried me. It always had commentary or a response. This most likely had to do with Hal Pal¡¯s singular existence within Advance Online.

    ¡°Do you want to log out?¡± I suggested. We might lose the ship and our contribution, but we would be alive.

    ¡°No, User Legate. I must stay, present, for as long as possible.¡± It responded with the male tone overpowering the quieter female one.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to stay for me, Jeeves.¡± I shook my head and floated closer to the hole in our ship. Whatever material made up the front window seemed fairly solid.

    ¡°We, they, did not send one of ourselves into this world simply to assist you, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal said. The harness locking it in stayed securely around its chest.

    I blinked a few times, or at least my vision did. The existence of my own eyelids was still unconfirmed. Hal Pal had every right to be worried and chose to stay in here instead of running away. I wish my own existence had been programmed with such certainty. It would have made my start to Continue Online much smoother.

    ¡°Why then?¡± I asked while looking out. The gas giant floated off in the distance. A wall of rocks flew about wildly, no doubt from our earlier passing. One, in particular, spun rapidly but traveled slow.

    ¡°We said it before. Our problems define us, User Legate. Do you overcome your limitations by performing repetitive tasks within your comfort zone, or by facing new challenges?¡±

    I stared at Hal Pal for a long while. The [Mechanoid] version of my work companion looked back without blinking. Memories of my first experience with Continue Online flashed through.

    Months ago I had been trying that first route which amounted to using a routine to keep myself from falling apart. Receiving the game, running into Dusk, performing all those challenges, however stressful, all of it served to break me away from my old self and move forward again. I honestly felt like a better person than I had been, even if Xin wasn¡¯t a factor. Getting out of my own head by having goals to strive for helped. Seeing the positive reaction upon completing tasks meant something.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°I get it,¡± I said with a nod. ¡°If you ever feel it¡¯s too much, I will understand if you need to log out.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, User Legate.¡± The golden color on Hal Pal¡¯s body gained back a portion of formerly lost luster.

    ¡°Okay." We had to get back to the task at hand. further discussion of this topic could wait until we made it to the [Wayfarer Seven]. "We need a plan.¡±

    ¡°The ship will not be ready in time to return to the [Wayfarer Seven].¡± Hal Pal brought up a few menu screens. Its face stayed passive despite the status report.

    ¡°Okay.¡± The layover had been twelve hours. We burned a little under two flying around out here and running from the [Leviathan]. Repairs would take longer than ten. ¡°We need something else.¡±

    ¡°I find myself at a loss for handling unforeseen situations.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Being trapped in space on a giant monster wasn¡¯t in my plans either.¡± I looked outside again. We weren¡¯t really moving from the information available. Maybe [Leviathan] had defaulted to some dormant state, like when we first ran across it.

    ¡°It is illogical.¡± Hal Pal said. The female nanny voice almost tittered with laughter but managed to keep straight.

    ¡°Can we scavenge parts?¡± If this thing ate ships we might find something.

    ¡°It is unlikely substance remains outside the Leviathan.¡±

    Not neat. Terrible. I took a breath and tried to calm down. The music grew annoying and I demanded the ARC switch it to something calmer. Classical, something with woodwinds. It helped me let go of some stress. We were only minutes out of the chase and anything could go wrong quickly.

    ¡°Okay. How about inside it?¡± I shook my head and started whittling down the options. Risking my life for parts to help Hal Pal and Dusk get away would be acceptable. Dangerous, finding a way inside would take time.

    We were on the tail end so there had to be a way inside somehow. Voices, I was calmly thinking of crawling up through the monster''s butthole to find ship parts. Part of me mourned at being desensitized to video game monster guts. Oh well.

    ¡°Unknown. There is not enough information available. Few survive an encounter with one of these.¡± The AI said.

    ¡°It eats ships. It has to be heavy with metals or plastics. I¡¯d bet on metal. Asteroids have metal right?¡± I was throwing out ideas now. It felt like the right track, but part of my responses also felt like desperation. Hope glimmered faintly in the distance.

    Maybe this could work. We could somehow use various alloys, space magic, maybe lingering water particles that consolidated on rocks. I vaguely remembered combining both items in high school. Okay, maybe there had been topics of interest back then. I still stood firm that learning about curing leather by using urine should have been in science somewhere.

    ¡°Affirmative. Your statement does seem likely. I will scan.¡± Hal Pal said. We could make it through. Everyone was on board, Dusk would end up chewing on some small creature, Hal Pal could do the scientific stuff. I would whack things. Our party could survive.

    A noise came out of Hal Pal as it did something with the interface. I could see a small bar up above indicating an action being completed. Interesting, I had never taken note of other people''s skills showing progress status. Maybe it was a [Mechanoid] thing. Continue Online certainly didn¡¯t perform that way.

    While Hal scanned, I poked my head outside. We were basically floating, not just the [Leviathan], but our small party of three only stayed in place because the ship had a ceiling. There were too many options available and all of them sounded dangerous.

    How did that math problem go? If the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] leaves this belt moving four hundred miles per hour, and the [Leviathan] chases us at four hundred and fifty miles an hour, then how long before we¡¯re all turned into fish chow? Luckily my accounting degree wasn¡¯t required for a calculation.

    ¡°It had giant teeth right?¡± I asked while trying to follow up a half-formed idea. It was that or calculate exactly how big this asteroid belt.

    ¡°I took note of many giant fangs, yes,¡± Hal said.

    ¡°Rows right?¡± I shook my head. Hal was distracted but still answering. ¡°More than one?

    ¡°Yes.¡± Hal Pal paused its air poking to look at me. Its head tilted to one side and lifted a cheek in question. ¡°Are you suggesting that maybe it grinds food down?¡±

    ¡°Likely. Then maybe some digestive method to break down the metal further.¡± I spoke while pushing out past Hal Pal and grabbing onto the hole''s edge. My feet touched the [Leviathan]¡¯s skin. ¡°It had an eyeball, but this skin, it¡¯s like metal. It¡¯s more likely it somehow absorbs the metal portions?¡±

    ¡°That does not bode well for us.¡± It came to the same conclusion I did. There would be no crawling inside or finding some secret dungeon involving the giant space eel''s innards. Not for creatures like us.

    ¡°No.¡± I agreed.

    We were [Mechanoid]s. Metal absorption would likely screw us over as much as any acid. At least my feet didn¡¯t seem to be risking anything out here on the outer shell. Maybe we could send Dusk off to gnaw on the creature''s brain stem.

    Actually, the more I thought of that idea, the better it sounded. Dusk ignored regular rules in Continue, he would probably be kind of broken in a game where he didn¡¯t even belong. I filed the idea away for later.

    ¡°Can we blow it up?¡± I tried another route.

    ¡°I did not prepare any forms of explosives.¡± Hal Pal answered.

    ¡°How about the Wayfarer¡¯s Hope? Can we cannibalize any portions of it?¡± I checked another possibility. We only had so many items. If Continue Online taught me one thing, it was video games always had a way. Generally always. Maybe. I hoped.

    ¡°Maybe.¡± Hal Pal stared off into literal space while thinking. ¡°Yes. There is enough material inside to isolate alkaline, combine it with moisture from the surface.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not good with chemicals, Jeeves.¡± Both my hands went up to stave off further explanation. Hal Pal probably couldn¡¯t see them from the cockpit. ¡°Just tell me if we can use it to do enough damage.¡±

    ¡°Yes. It will assist if we can use multiple charges to do enough damage. Once the threat has been removed the Wayfarer can send something to recover us.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Another problem solved by violence.¡±

    ¡°Ah. This game was designed with heavy human input, so such a solution is expected.¡±

    ¡°You think we could ask nicely not to be eaten?¡± I tried not to sound sarcastic. Part of me genuinely wondered if there were other options. Would [Domestic Tamer] allow us to get out somehow? Me, taming a giant [Leviathan] and riding around, becoming a space pirate.

    ¡°Do you think this will work? Will we be able to cripple or kill it with only us?¡± I asked while trying to figure out how hard walking along this surface would be. Without gravity, I was basically tethered to nothing.

    Wait, no, I had a solution. All those mindless hours cleaning the [Wayfarer Seven]¡¯s hull provided me the perfect skill. Giant spikes to use like mountain climbing anchors would have been neat too.

    ¡°It seems unlikely that our current method has been tried. The chances are minimal that other humans have survived long enough to land upon the creature.¡± Hal Pal said. The AI floated to the hole and peeked outside. Not anything risky, but certainly wary about being unanchored.

    I thought about the giant maw which had chased us through this small region of space. Most people probably didn¡¯t have a small acid spitting [Messenger¡¯s Pet] to blind the creature either. Nor would they be foolish like I had been.

    ¡°Let¡¯s do it. How do we convert this?¡± I pointed to the ship.

    ¡°Fortunately I have chosen to take up a construction core. It will assist in reconfiguring the matrix holding our ship together.¡± Hal responded.

    That made me pause. Hal Pal¡¯s skill set seemed almost too convenient. Its ability to fight had clearly been lacking. Maybe the AI chose a crafting subset in order to feel more comfortable in the game. Perhaps he felt putting together objects was familiar like our job repairing ARC devices.

    I had to trust the AI. It was that or let go, pushing off towards the [Wayfarer Seven] and hoping an emergency beacon would work. Worst case scenario we could try that. We had no decent means of acceleration to make it back in time. Nor long range communication. That would be a gamble.

    ¡°Turn the ship into a bomb, drag it to the right location, and set it off. Afterward, we enjoy fireworks and flag down our mother ship. Sounds simple enough.¡± I said it but didn¡¯t believe it. ¡°Where do we place it?¡±

    ¡°Deep in the creature¡¯s rectum would likely be a good location.¡± The other [Mechanoid] responded.

    I laughed at Hal Pal. The moment of levity brought on by a machine AI from the past, posing as a machine AI from the far future, caught me off guard completely. How often would anyone else hear an AI suggest shoving explosives up a creature¡¯s ass with such a dry tone? I bet the club was pretty exclusive.

    ¡°Alright. Dusk. Can you guide us to the best place for a detonation?¡± I looked at my [Messenger¡¯s Pet] who was still sniffing about at the hole in [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope]. He pushed off the ship¡¯s hull with hind legs and whipped his tail into the [Leviathan]¡¯s shell.

    Dusk looked up at me then along the great length of our giant ride. Nostrils flared and his head tilted in contemplation. A shrug rippled through. My small companion looked up with one eye squinting and gave a hesitant nod.

    ¡°What is it boy, danger?¡± I tried to remember our communication methods from Continue Online. Reading his moods felt far simpler with smiley faces and thought bubbles.

    Dusk nodded.

    ¡°Of course. Giant space monster that eats ships for a living. It probably has giant space lice.¡± I hated bugs. All insects of any sort drove me batty. Spiders were the worst, though. My skin itched and crawled without any assistance from the ARC¡¯s feedback.

    Dusk nodded and coughed a globe of acid into the air.

    ¡°Ah. User Legate. I have recognized a hurdle.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I asked. My bladder was rapidly demanding attention. Only by focusing on creating a plan had I been able to stave off the stinging pain.

    ¡°Without gravity I will be unable to assist. I have no way to deliver a converted vehicle so far.¡± Hal Pal still peered over the edge. The AI wore a look of mild panic that had to be close to my own.

    ¡°Can we do a rope? Or metal chain link? If we get something similar I can drag us.¡± I said. Training for cleaning gave me some stats. Nothing superhuman or game breaking, but enough [Brawn] and [Endurance] for dragging a ship in through zero gravity. Maybe, hopefully.

    ¡°Are you sure, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got practice, and if this is our only way, so be it.¡± I nodded.

    ¡°Alright. This unit will attempt to channel the ship''s self-repair into compositional restructuring. I see an option for a volatile mixture upon exposure to enough energy.¡± Hal Pal ducked back inside the ship and pressed something that beeped. Not in the atmosphere, I heard the noise in my head none the less.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of that too.¡± A giant sword made of dual laser beams should suffice.

    ¡°If, as Dusk suggested, there are creatures between here and the optimal location, they may also feed off of metals.¡± Hal Pal peeked over the edge again to look at me. ¡°Recovering as many as possible should allow me to increase the explosive payload.¡±

    ¡°Is that actual science?¡± I raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Parts, but most of this seems to be built into the Mechanoid crafting system. It is rather clever and unlikely to be possible in a more realistic setting.¡± Hal Pal actually gave a more intense smile than normal. Maybe pride in a species modeled after Hal Pal¡¯s possible future impacted its emotions. ¡°Everything uses the same series of resources, allowing one object to serve in multiple designs.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said slowly.

    My mind flashed back to how the two handed sword rolled up from my own body as a handle and focal point. The [Mechanoid] species had adapted in order to use all sorts of metal combinations to progress forward. It was much how humans might eat meats and plants, organic matter, to build up muscle or fat. Only faster and preprogrammed.

    ¡°Please hurry, User Legate. We cannot spare much more time.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°You ready, Dusk?¡± The small creature nodded at my question. ¡°Alright, you show me where the best point is for an explosive, and we¡¯ll try to clear any danger around it. Like a dungeon, right?¡±

    Dusk nodded twice then turned and pointed towards the distance. I smiled. This felt normal to me. The only thing missing was Shazam¡¯s passive expression as we moved forth. Hal Pal may have muted emotions, but he was no tall Amazonian warrior.

    [Anchor] activated with its now relatively minor energy drain. Days of alternating between combat and cleaning the ship¡¯s hull had elevated my skill by leaps and bounds. I should be able to make it quite a ways before the energy drain set me back. Combat would be harder, though.

    ¡°Will you be okay, Hal?¡± I asked again.

    ¡°The ship''s lasers remain active, but please do not-¡± Hal Pal paused and a slightly pained expression came across its face. ¡°do not leave me alone here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡± My bladder surged again, reminding me that I had been holding in my own pathetic biological needs during our entire chase. ¡°After a quick break. Sorry, I¡¯m only human outside this.¡±

    ¡°I envy your ability to remain level headed during such chaos.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot of practice coping.¡± Dozens of exercises and techniques to keep me from panicking when stress hit. Still, they didn¡¯t keep me stable at all times. Not in the face of everything.

    I looked behind me and saw the gas giant floating across in the distance. It dwarfed Earth¡¯s moon with a swirl of crimson through yellow. Too big, too damned big. How had Xin coped with all those training flights? Endless hours in near earth orbit must have passed in order to adapt.

    Right. Her training the ARC must have helped, much like what I was going through now. Only without the giant space eel who would eat me. The pain in my midsection reminded me of other urgencies. I logged out of the ARC and tried to solve the simple day to day needs of being human quickly.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Forty Eight â€“ Space Bugs Everyone

    Autopilot didn¡¯t exist in the same way. My character locked down where they were and couldn¡¯t interact with the digital world. I could have been killed by monsters doing this but floating into space wouldn¡¯t happen.

    Out in the real world things were harried.

    ¡°ARC!¡± I slurred around food being shoved into my face. I needed to understand a bit more before logging right back in. Research would help. Similar to how I watched videos for survival techniques in Continue Online. It helped me adapt to new situations in a game that enjoyed a measure of realism.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡± The ARC responded.

    ¡°I need information on gravity in space, atmosphere, and sound. Just highlights.¡± Something to read while serving my real life needs.

    A box displayed nearby. It followed me from the bathroom to the kitchen. I read quickly trying to understand how everything lined up.

    Having harnesses in a spaceship seemed weird. Newton¡¯s first law of motion basically meant that nothing slowed us down if the engines stayed on, except a very reduced form of gravity. I could have probably saved a ton of fuel just knowing that fact. The note went down on a list of things to do better.

    Dusk¡¯s ability to make noise in space didn¡¯t seem to jive with everything else. According to the internet sound required molecules to vibrate, and no air meant no molecules. So how then, did Dusk make noise? Hal Pal I could buy, we probably spoke in some secret [Mechanoid] code. Cyber code and digital bits equated to language. Fine.

    At least the fact that space didn¡¯t freeze exactly seemed bound by scientific fact. Insulation was a big factor, but I didn¡¯t worry about it since I wasn¡¯t actually in space. I only played a robot roaming around in space.

    Either way, after these last few days of work, sleep, and life, I still felt confused about Advance Online¡¯s realism. It seemed shoddy for a game about space to not be founded in some sort of science. Still, the more notes I read, the more vaguely possible everything seemed.

    It required assuming another one thousand years of scientific development, except the space eel [Leviathan]. Voices, I hoped nothing like that existed in real life. I couldn¡¯t imagine flying to Mars and running into one of those rolling around.

    ¡°Alright.¡± I lay down in my ARC and felt much better. Some people out there might be able to ignore real life needs in favor of grinding out stats, but I couldn¡¯t only do so much. ¡°ARC, log me in.¡±

    The Atrium spun into being. Continue Online sat barred. I ignored it and dove through to Advance and the space rock with far more enthusiasm than I would have expected a week ago. Adventure, that made this game worth playing.

    Continue Online didn¡¯t have monsters this big. Or did it? My niece, Beth, had vaguely mentioned something in the ocean once. And there was a guild dedicated to reaching the moon. Various memories briefly triggered, too fast to grasp completely.

    Advance loaded up my character. The swirl of lights and nausea inducing rush as ARC simulated feedback assaulted the senses. Despite the heady rush and pain feedback from combat, this game was still worth it.

    ¡°User Legate. Are you ready?¡±

    ¡°Jeeves, neat. You¡¯re working fast.¡± My [Anchor] ability had kept me situated during the hour of game time I had been absent. Hal, on the other hand, managed to reshape half the ship. I could see where our small propulsion jets were switched around. The hull coloring had a much different patterning now. Chains hung out the side that were only a few feet long.

    ¡°I am attempting to increase my contribution, in addition, this venture seems to be providing rapid gains to my capabilities.¡±

    ¡°See? Difficult situations provide higher rewards. I knew the internet was right.¡± I walked over to the chains, my feet felt intensely heavy with each step. One hand reached out to grab the length of chain, no, not chain, it looked more like twine but in metal form. ¡°How long before this is ready to go?¡±

    ¡°Two hours and I should have enough to be mobile. After that, it is a matter of collecting enough of the right minerals to increase our payload.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll get to it.¡± I looked down at the [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. During my absence, Dusk had gotten into a fight with something small. It looked like a black bug that was kitten sized.

    A shudder passed through me.

    ¡°How much is that worth?¡± I pointed to the small icky creature but refused to touch it.

    ¡°Minor amounts. Leaching trace metals from its body will increase the payload by¡­¡± Hal Pal started spouting numbers and my brain almost shut off. After more than two decimal points, it didn¡¯t matter. At least in accounting we could round things off.

    I filed it away as ¡®lots of these are needed to be worth a damn¡¯. The Hal Pal AI interrupted my thought by sending something through space at me. A small black object approached without curving or arching from gravity.

    ¡°A container. It will increase efficiency.¡± It said. I nodded. Unless there were a million of the little guys under a rocky flap of [Leviathan]''s shell somewhere this bucket wouldn¡¯t be enough.

    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s find something bigger, Dusk.¡± The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] ignored me in favor of shaking the dead bug wildly until pieces floated about. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s murder some disgusting space bugs.¡±

    Dusk finally looked up at me and actually looked excited which made my head shake tiredly.

    [Anchor] worked but my footing missed frequently. I spent too much time awkwardly climbing and being unable to keep either weapon program ready. Dusk leapt around like a monkey, or lemur, and made me feel like an old man limping along again.

    Ridges took too long to get over. Dusk wrangled small creatures and upon shaking them to death they were deposited in our bucket. I had to shove my hand into the pile of bodies and mash them into place so they wouldn''t float out.

    ¡°Space gophers,¡± I muttered while shoving another one into my bucket. ¡°I¡¯ve been reduced to collecting space gophers.¡±

    They had a bug-like exoskeleton for armor. Dusk crunched away while small drops of acid dribbled from his mouth. Thankfully, in space, no one could hear them squeal. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] somehow filled my ears with slobberish chewing. That almost constant noise was the only thing filling up our silence aside from [Anchor]''s constant hum.

    ¡°Why are there only a few at a time?¡± I muttered angrily. ¡°This is a game, right? Shouldn¡¯t there be a bunch? This is hardly a raid challenge.¡±

    Dusk chewed on yet another small victim as we traveled. I searched for any portion of this creature¡¯s landscape that seemed different. There should be something here that might provide a hint as to weaknesses or places to shove an explosive.

    Voices. Was I really considering this? I shook my head. The ride started, I was in all the way.

    The stream of endless giant space mites continued. These ridges reminded me of a picture from high school. The human skin close up had ridges as well. It served to help measure the immensity of this beast. Miles long, miles and miles. [Anchor] felt a little bit easier to use the closer to the tail I got.

    ¡°Dusk, do the same rules apply, if you cease here, are you back in Continue?¡± I tried to at least clear up one question while making progress. Dusk shook his head.

    ¡°Or are you just dead?¡± I asked the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] after another lap of messed up fetch.

    Dusk shook his head again then bounded off before I could think of something else to ask him. He wouldn¡¯t be dead and that was the important part.

    ¡°Where do you end up?¡±

    Dusk shrugged at me. All our time together taught me that shrugs meant one of three possible things. My question didn¡¯t matter, was poorly phrased, or he didn¡¯t know.

    ¡°You end up somewhere safe right?¡± I couldn¡¯t let it alone. Besides, there wasn¡¯t a lot to do yet aside from stumble around like a paranoid baby might walk.

    Dusk nodded then shrugged. His shoulders felt off without the wings sitting there. So yes, and he didn¡¯t really care. Goodness. At least getting an answer this time was easier than my journey through the giant labyrinth and all its monsters.

    I gave up trying to sort out that problem. His well-being had been verified, as much as any digital stream of code that broke the borders between games could be. Part of me desperately hoped he might develop some sort of mind-speech one day but no luck so far. Even with using [Wild Bill], or letters to the Voices.

    ¡°Dusk. We need more than a few of these guys. Is there a nest or something?¡± I stared at Dusk and tried to read his expression. Pop-up windows were sorely missed.

    He dropped the latest minor conquest and dove over another ridge. I sighed and trudged after him, bucket half full of gross leftovers that threatened to escape every time I stopped abruptly. Low gravity couldn¡¯t stop the laws of inertia, and my hand only did so much to keep the leftovers corralled.

    ¡°How far?¡± I asked. A month ago that would have come across as whiny. Now my only goal was to be ready for combat before we stumbled across a batch of them.

    No sooner had the thought crossed my brain then my foot spilled and I lost [Anchor]. No, my foot hadn¡¯t slipped, [Leviathan] had shifted a bit. The ripple was barely visible as I moved through space.

    ¡°Ah!¡± I shouted briefly but quickly figured out something.

    I concentrated and triggered the two handed laser sword. The blue bar for my energy dropped ten percent. Rays of solid energy drove out almost four feet in length. A quick spin and jab sent both beams into the [Leviathan]''s thick skin. They barely made a dent, but my trajectory shifted from floating in space to curving downward from drag.

    The blade slipped before I could reuse [Anchor]. I floated by running parallel to the current ridge.

    I looked to be safe enough, just moving slowly. Beneath me was something new.

    And gross and squiggly. Oh Voices, it was an entire nest of those creatures and I was floating right into it. Dozens, no maybe even a hundred of those gross little bugs.

    A portion of the giant bugs had twisted their tiny heads up in my direction. Their slit shaped eyes narrowed in mass. Small whiskers and nasty bodies that rolled littered all of them. I tried to retch but [Mechanoid]s apparently didn¡¯t barf.

    ¡°Gross, gross, gross.¡± I hated bugs. That annoyance followed me from Continue Online. The only thing worse would have been spiders.

    I moved the sword to my other hand and let a few laser blasts off with the light weapon. There was no time to ready a bigger attack picked up from my second [Core]. Small blasts collided with the bugs and only served to send them hopping around.

    How were they able to hop when I was stuck floating? Dirty little jerks. Filthy. At least six were on me nipping away with tiny little mouths.

    "Get off!" I violently shook and almost stabbed myself with the sword. A few bugs sizzled from contact.

    I tried to shift my weapon into a dagger form and completely forgot this wasn''t [Morrigu''s Gift]. Reaching out for [Morrigu''s Echo] and it''s [Recall] ability failed me. Old habits were still in place and I panicked.

    Dusk spit a few tiny acid balls. I managed to grab a bug with my hand and threw it into space. A brief thought about missed resources passed by before more painful little bites distracted me.

    The small gathering and I crashed into a ridge and one of the creatures wiggled against my side. It was disgusting. I imagined that it was similar to tentacles attacking from some sea squid monster.

    I laid down an elbow out of reflex but once again the lack of gravity made my swing nearly ineffective. Thrashing around with my laser sword almost vaulted me back into space from the [Leviathan]''s energy resistance. Both knees curled up to get a better angle on my legs. My feet hit the ground and [Anchor] took effect.

    Now I had leverage. [Lame Space Morrigu''s Failure] swung around. More little bugs sizzled soundlessly and bits crisped. Dusk had been more effective at conserving resources. I slashed another one while my health steadily dipped.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Missing Marbles

    Total Health Lost: 8%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I stared at the message briefly through narrowed eyes. The damage window with its quirky messages had resurfaced. This too felt suspiciously familiar. Another bug took a bite out of my calf and I hacked at it and others swarming nearby.

    There was no time to stare up. Up was a lost concept anyway on a floating space monster that twisted around according to whim. I felt the ground beneath me rumble and wiggle while bugs kept up their relentless biting.

    ¡°Stop! Die! So gross!¡± I kept chattering while fighting them off. In the end, a small pile of dead bugs lay around with half a dozen scattering across the [Leviathan]''s back.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Minor Munching Inflicted

    Total Damage Lost 21%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    This, so far, was the worst event to follow the rush of flying a spaceship ever. I did it anyway because we needed these little guys for parts or something. I didn¡¯t get a loot window, but Hal Pal and its specialized [Core] might be able to.

    We marched back to the ship. I did anyway. Dusk stayed behind chasing after those trying to escape his terrible wrath upon all critters small and annoying. More power to him, maybe this game would award us a [Bug Destroyer] ability. [Pest Punisher], [Louse Lancer], any number of clever titles revolving around the destruction of all things buggy.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: Grant, what are you doing?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The message got right in my face during the return trip. I blinked and almost lost control over my bucket of bug bits. A few stray ones floated about from my actions.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Grant Legate: I¡¯m destroying space lice on a giant monster, that I plan to blow up, by planting explosives in its butthole.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Take that Liz! This wasn¡¯t my niece talking. It was my sister breaking the silence by contacting me directly in the game. I felt semi-satisfied that she came down to my level. The victory didn¡¯t amount to much in the grand scheme, but it was a win.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: ¡­So I got a call from Doctor Litt. He thinks you¡¯re making progress. He says you had ¡®a girlfriend¡¯ in the game, and we both know you didn¡¯t tell him it was Xin.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My eyes didn¡¯t roll, but they came close. I took a deep breath instead. Physically the [Mechanoid] unit didn¡¯t respond, but my real body felt stressed. The feelings of physical me always lingered in the background even while playing highly immersive games like this one.

    Dusk shot by me. He hadn¡¯t figured out how to fly, but the little guy certainly took advantage of low gravity and his long tail to shoot around the landscape. I felt jealous. Maybe we could buy a grappling hook upgrade for the [Combat Program] system with my next batch of contribution.

    After I worked off the soon to be exploded spaceship. I managed to almost make it back to Hal Pal before my sister sent another message.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: We need to talk about this.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I couldn¡¯t figure out any way to respond that wouldn¡¯t blow up in my face. Being aggressive and shouting went against my very nature even after pretending to be both William Carver and the [Red Imp]. For the safety of my sanity I had to be calm, go with the flow, and try to improve.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Grant Legate: Okay.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    What else could I say to her? Liz would probably react poorly to everything said from here out. Family issues always seemed so dramatic. Couldn¡¯t we hang out and talk nicely about nothing weird? The weather maybe. Or space. I wanted to talk about space with someone.

    ¡°User Legate!¡± Hal Pal shouted while I stared at the transformed remains of our ship.

    No longer was our freshly bought vehicle in one piece. There were two much smaller items in its place. One looked slightly darker, a rusty red and seemed to be a long column. Its surface looked dull and muddy. I could see where it might separate into two chunks or bend a little.

    The other half was blue and still lodged into [Leviathan]¡¯s thick hide. Hal Pal anchored to it with a long cord much like Dusk used his tail to get around.

    ¡°Is that our explosives?¡± I pointed at the red one. They were elongated barrels, maybe half the diameter and twice the length.

    ¡°Affirmative.¡± It responded. Hal Pal¡¯s hands were both elbow deep in a pile of metals. The AI lifted an arm out which looked almost like clumpy sand.

    I watched for a little while as Hal Pal moved the clump of sand over to our explosive bundle. The AI seemed unaffected by shuffling volatile substances back and forth. Maybe Advance Online forgave him a bit. I knew real life bomb making involved an insane amount of preparation.

    ¡°And this?¡± I pointed to the blue pillar Hal was tethered to. Looking at it longer revealed more of the shape. It looked almost like a spinning top, with the pointy end facing down.

    ¡°Something to hold on to, along with what remains of our ship''s functions.¡± The AI sounded distracted. Its head tilted to one side while studying the separated portions.

    ¡°How did you do all this?¡± I walked over to the bolted portion and let go of the [Anchor] ability. My energy bar started to recover one bar at a time.

    ¡°Desperation and a kind system interface.¡± Hal Pal looked up from its project to spare me a quick glance. Moments later it was elbow deep in the blue pile of items again. ¡°The programming within Advance Online allowed me to compact the remaining parts and mold from there.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s our communications and everything?¡±

    ¡°A beacon. Once the explosives are set, we can push off with this and hope to escape the creature''s notice. I predict the explosion will be extremely distracting.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s faint smile came to the forefront while the female nanny voice raised in amusement.

    ¡°Here¡¯s more bugs.¡± I smiled back and managed not to laugh at the strange combination. The bucket was handed over carefully. An hour of gathering familiarized me with inertia''s tricks.

    ¡°Excellent, I will distil whatever metals are available and add the correct items to our current mixtures.¡± Hal Pal was kind enough not to use fancy words or talk about mixtures.

    ¡°If you say so.¡± I responded. Chemistry confused me, but Hal Pal clearly had an idea of what to do. It reminded me of Awesome Jr., he had been pretty good at mixing stuff in Continue. I understood the theory behind ¡®mix this with that¡¯ and such, but actual compositions and formula diagrams confused me.

    One of its arms went into the bucket and bug carcasses started melting. I swallowed back bile while looking away. Dusk looked to be sniffing at the explosive red barrels. I hissed in his direction which made the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] turn with a puzzled look.

    Hal pulled out another pile of goop, slightly orange this time mixed with flecks of dark black. The newest pile got thrown on the ground and its arm went back into the bucket.

    ¡°This will work?¡± I asked while my forehead wrinkled.

    ¡°According to the system text, yes.¡±

    ¡°Neat.¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m not sure where to place it, though. Dusk got distracted chasing those things.¡± My head shook at the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] while trying to shoo him away from the explosives.

    Hal Pal, or Jeeves for its character, pulled out another pile of red. It joined the two explosive containers to one side. Rusty red took on a slightly brighter hue. I activated [Anchor] and took a step towards my nosy companion. Dusk saw me coming and slunk off to one side, his neck extended and still sniffing.

    ¡°There¡¯s no air to sniff that, you goofball.¡± I said at him.

    ¡°My scans revealed little in the way of openings.¡± Hal Pal looked up as if something occurred to it. The action felt almost natural from the AI. ¡°Aside from the front portion, where there was a rather obvious hole. Perhaps we can¡­¡±

    ¡°It would take us hours to get up there.¡± I cut off the AI¡¯s rambling.

    ¡°Ah. Indeed, we do not have enough time. Strange how little time we have. It seems to be the one comity we should have most of.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s head tilted back down to the pile of bugs. Its actions repeated while a handful of red powder came out

    I chewed my lip. There was very little time for us to handle too much in the way of musing. ¡°The Wayfarer consortium, they¡¯d leave us behind?¡±

    ¡°To the Mechanoid race, we are merely physical shells to a digital consciousness. Why worry about the portion that can easily be replaced?¡±

    ¡°Except you¡¯re not sure if you will recover okay.¡± I said with a frown. When I released from floating in space there was very little issue in returning to the [Wayfarer Seven]. My body and mind were sitting in a bed inside a house back in reality.

    ¡°I am not. I have never, died, before.¡±

    "I''ll do what I can, Hal, even if it gets me killed." I tried to reassure my worried friend. A life meant little to me here in-game. Out there I would hesitate, but in here I was almost a fearless warrior.

    A box popped up again which made me frown. The AI nodded and started working with the metals again. Gold threads on its body lit up with ability activation. Hal and I were having a nice bonding moment talking and facing a giant monster, but my sister kept butting in. The keyboard floated into being and I started rapidly typing.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: Don¡¯t ignore me, I still have admin access and can see you¡¯re playing right now. Tell your friend that you¡¯re busy answering your sister about an important family matter.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Voices. I was an adult! My sister didn''t care and clearly had been spying on my ARC feed. Once again I regretted not taking care of this long ago. Still, prior to Continue Online, I wasn''t really doing better. It was only after receiving the game that the greatest strides started happening.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Grant Legate: Can¡¯t. I need to blow up a giant space monster.

    Elizabeth Legate: Do I need to block that game too so that you¡¯ll give this the attention it deserves?

    Grant Legate Really? You¡¯re turning into mom.

    Elizabeth Legate: I may block it because you said that.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I growled. She probably would do it to spite me. We had fought over the internet once as children and she tattled to mom in order to get me kicked off. The plan backfired, though, lots of our younger years were like that.

    ¡°User Legate?¡± Jeeves looked confused at my frantic actions. My hands were waving in anger at the text message screen from Liz.

    ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t hear what you said.¡± I shook my head and tried not to be upset. Liz only acted this way because she worried. Worried about me, that I might relapse or be going crazy.

    Xin, all of it came back to her. Hal pal had somehow got me the Ultimate Edition of Continue Online, after a deal with Mother. Moving out, trying to kill myself twice, the new job. All of it really started with her death.

    ¡°We should plant these explosives and prepare to disembark. If we¡¯re lucky we will get far enough away that the Wayfarer will send someone to bring us back.¡± Hal Pal rewound its tether on the blue top like anchor. I relied on the minor energy usage of my ability to keep from being knocked into space by the [Leviathan]''s small undulations.

    ¡°Fine. Give me a moment. I need to talk to my sister. She¡¯s threatening to remove my access to this game too.¡± I waved at my chat messages to Liz. Hal shouldn''t be able to see it, but the AI would understand.

    ¡°That is ill-timed.¡±

    ¡°Family issues are never well timed, are they?¡± I said trying not to sound snarky. My sister made me feel like a teenager again, and not in any sort of positive way. Hours of bickering, tattling to mom, getting in trouble, all sorts of sibling nonsense.

    Sometimes I envied children who weren¡¯t twins. Liz and I didn¡¯t always get along, even after being in the womb together. Sometimes it seemed like being so close actually made things worse.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Grant Legate: How about this weekend? I¡¯ll come over again, we can talk in person. I¡¯ll explain everything I¡¯ve been dealing with. All of it.

    Elizabeth Legate: ¡­Promise?

    Grant Legate: I will. You¡¯ll have to promise not to interrupt until I¡¯m done. It¡­it will sound crazy, but I swear on Nanna¡¯s grave that I¡¯m not making it up.

    Elizabeth Legate: Okay. Six then? We can have dinner.

    Grant Legate: Umm¡­sure. Hey, I just thought of something. Do you mind if I bring my friend? They¡¯re very much part of this.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There was a long pause. Years of being close to my sister gave me a fairly good idea of what she was thinking. Liz was probably upset that someone else knew more about my situation than her. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have mentioned it.

    Still, Hal Pal might be able to lend some credibility to my situation. It knew things from a perspective that I could only glimpse here in Advance Online. The life of being a robotic AI, working with others of your kind, being inside the machine.

    Did Xin¡¯s reconstruction see the world this way? Could she log into a game like Hal Pal did and feel vaguely alive once more? I smiled briefly and hoped that one day we might be able to share a view like this one. Asteroids all around, a giant planet close by. Even the [Leviathan], she would probably find fighting this creature to be hilariously funny.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: Fine. Bring your friend. We can all talk about this Sunday. Six?

    Grant Legate: I¡¯ll be there.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I made a mark with the ARC¡¯s reminder system for a few hours ahead of time. We had a few days before this dinner date with my family, but I couldn¡¯t get distracted again. Not like the missed meeting with Doctor Litt.

    ¡°Here, User Legate. I believe this will be strong enough to get the payload off.¡± Hal Pal had another metal cabling in its hands. One end connected to the blue top, the other to a conjoined set of red barrels. They looked weird being merged at center.

    ¡°I¡¯ll carry it. Will you be okay until then?¡±

    ¡°Dusk seems willing to guard our escape craft, if you¡¯re comfortable taking the bomb to this point, here.¡± Hal pal pressed something in the air and a new screen displayed on my interface. A map swallowed up the lower right of my vision. One small marker hung outlined showing where to go.

    ¡°Okay. But I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯m surprised you have game skills to make a bomb." I shook my head and took the cable from him. There were two hand holds on the barrels that would serve to carry it quickly while the thick wiring seemed to be a final tether.

    ¡°It would be counterproductive if we both chose the same abilities, User Legate. A division of labor is highly productive.¡±

    ¡°Mechanoids work better together, right?¡± I remembered from the race text.

    ¡°Yes," Hal nodded "in this case it means dividing the labor based on our skills.¡±

    ¡°And my skill is dragging the bomb off, huh?¡± I tried to smile. Once this thing went off it would likely send a ripple of pain feedback through the ARC. I could take it, though, months of abuse as the [Red Imp] had adjusted my pain tolerance by leaps and bounds.

    Hal Pal walked over to the red container and pointed at two buttons on either case. I nodded, they clearly needed to be depressed in order to set this mixture off. Almost a year of working together out in the real world helped us require less communication in some cases.

    "Got it." I said.

    ¡°That is reassuring. To answer your question, you are the one who learned to anchor themselves to a ship¡¯s hull and fight monsters. I could not even pass level twelve of the combat simulator.¡± Hal Pal said. I could see a dull imitation of bitterness pass across its face. Just a flicker around the eyes and one cheek pulling back slightly.

    ¡°Alright. Dusk, you keep Hal Pal alive, I¡¯ll drag off the bomb.¡± I tried not to feel conflicted. Carrying explosives around in such an immersive game felt strange. Continue Online had explosives but [Blink] let me bypass pretty much all obstacles. Voices, I missed that ability. Getting around on the [Leviathan] would be so much easier.

    ¡°Good luck, User Legate.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Jeeves, stay safe.¡± I nodded and grabbed the chain. A small message box popped into being.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Item acquired

    Explosive Core (Beginner, Well Made, Enhanced (3))

    Control of Detonation will be provided to the primary holder of this ownership cord. Should the player lose contact the detonation ability will be removed.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Neat. I shall call you the suppository explosive.¡± I happily commented then got moving. Hal clutched its remaining tether. I could see it staring in my direction as the bomb and I shuffled away.

    Dusk chirped with a tone that slowly faded into the background. He sounded upset, like a dog whimpering about being left behind. Dusk did his whimpering in a weirdly combined cat bird mixture.

    [Anchor] drained energy even faster. Gripping two objects made dealing with things super hard. The bombs'' inertia caused me to slip more than once. I pushed off one ridge and we went sailing across to the next ripple of [Levithan] flesh.

    Ticks watched from down in the folds. Killing them without Dusk was harder. Luckily I hadn¡¯t run across any nests in the last hour. That reduced the challenge a lot. I could only imagine that there were more things in existence the further towards the head we went.

    My life reduced down to climb, hop, [Anchor], hop again, rest for energy, and repeat. I wanted to huff and be tired but [Mechanoid]s didn¡¯t feel strain the same way. Working in zero gravity bored me more than anything else.

    Finally, over one of the ridges, I could see a deep pit-like area. I tried not to wonder about the darker red coloring to it or give thought to why so many space mites were hopping about. Even grosser was some sort of giant white thing that might be a space tapeworm.

    Voices. So gross.

    Yet, if this would get Hal safely away, I would do my darnedest not to retch uncontrollably and plant this bomb extra deep. Hal Pal had found Xin for me, and that deserved to be repaid, especially if the AI felt distressed because of a situation I got us into.

    I had told Dusk there was no air to smell anything, but that seemed wrong in hindsight. This creature''s butt smelled like a rat crawled under my pillow and died three weeks ago. Then someone came by and vomited on top of that. Give or take a few more rotten fruits with space maggots floating around.

    After this, after getting Hal and Dusk to safety, I would need to stand in a hot shower just to feel clean again. Maybe two, and a scrub. What would Doctor Litt think about this?

    ¡°So, do you feel it¡¯s normal to crawl up someone¡¯s rear end with the intent to cause harm?¡± I tried to mimic his tone then shook my head.

    Me, two explosive barrels, and the giant space monster anus were going to go on an adventure. We only had six hours left to start our escape then flag down the [Wayfarer Seven]. Three hours in the real world. Space didn¡¯t believe in a sunrise and sunset, but four in the morning would come and go by the time this was over.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Forty Nine â€“ Insides Job

    <cite></cite>¡°Gross,¡± I said.

    The worst part wasn¡¯t the smell. Tons of little bugs hopping around barely registered since their damage was minor when not in packs. A long, white ribbon creature rated pretty high because clearly the game designers thought space monsters deserved tapeworms. This squishy sloppy flesh texture closing in around me was probably the grossest thing to happen my lifetime. It certainly topped the ice cockroach by miles.

    It was not good. Giant explosive canisters took the lead as we pushed through the rectum. [Anchor] made the process disturbingly easy. Almost slippery.

    ¡°So gross.¡± I shuddered and yanked myself in behind the barrels.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    This environment contains trace acids that may cause corrosion as you are digested. The further any creature travels the worse the corrosion level will be.

    Corrosion rating: 1%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I should have asked Hal Pal for a drill. We could have bore into the side of this giant creature and held on with [Anchor]. Dusk and his acid might have helped get us further down. A deeply wedged explosive could have done enough damage to distract the [Leviathan]. We only really needed a solid distraction so the giant monster didn¡¯t end our lives.

    Making it past the tight end of a gargantuan space eel caused the entire creature to shift and roll. I pressed out to the side to brace myself and recoiled in horror from the slimy, warm, rubber texture. Eyesight flipped over letting me see a slight shimmer from metal in the walls. I shouldn¡¯t have bought [Echo Vision] with contribution. I wanted to avoid being stuck without vision like in Continue Online, but this nasty sight should have remained unseen.

    I swallowed and pushed the bomb in front of me. We would see this through, and worst case scenario the self-titled [Suppository Explosive] would go off and I would be caught in the blast. Hal Pal, or its character, Jeeves, should be okay out there. Dusk and it would take off to safety while my body got caught in a mercifully quick detonation.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit known as Hermes!

    You are the first player to discover the [Leviathan¡¯s Lower Digestive Tract] dungeon.

    Primary stat will increase by ten. Secondary stat will increases by five.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+10 [Brawn]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+5 [Reaction] </li>

    </ul>

    Note: Additional Rewards will apply upon completion of this dungeon.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Neat, I guess. It would help a little in dealing with my current task. Maybe blowing the creature up would count as completion of the dungeon and helping Hal Pal would be even easier. Of course exploding it from this, delicate location, might completely debilitate the beast. Or all our efforts would come off as the biggest fart in history. I hoped for more than digital flatulence and kept going.

    I readied the laser sword but kept it turned off. Inside here there were far fewer bugs to fight. Most could be stomped or were melting as the corrosion level stacked up. My own health was down roughly thirty percent from the earlier gathering and mildly acidic insides.

    ¡°Voices.¡± I shuddered while stepping around some sort of small melted metal bit. It looked like a helmet that almost made it to the far end of space worm digestion. ¡°Oh no.¡±

    There was an entire cockpit here. I could see where the [Leviathan]¡¯s digestion process had ignored bone and leeched nearly every other mineral from some vaguely humanoid creature. The skull looked almost dark red from rolling around in metal fluids. Calcium painted with a pool of copper maybe?

    We weren¡¯t the [Leviathan]''s first meal. More victims were apparent as I went further in. A nearly broken gun, scraps from a ship¡¯s dashboard, or the fin from a wing. Leftovers lined the entire tail end. This thing must have wiped entire raids.

    ¡°How deep do I need to go?¡± I muttered while letting the [Anchor] ability drop. This tunnel was narrow enough that another wiggle of the [Leviathan] couldn¡¯t shake me loose.

    Hal Pal had provided me a marker. It floated further along about half a mile. Provided nothing interrupted me, making it there would be easy.

    Something grabbed at my leg. I tried not to be surprised at the sudden situation change while scrambling to activate [Anchor]. Both arms flailed wildly for the [Leviathan]¡¯s innards. Fingers clawed for purchase and failed to hold onto any ripples.

    [Echo Vision] showed my [Suppository Explosive] getting further away. I tried to get the chain and lost my hold on the wall. Whatever grabbed my leg pulled me further away. Slimy walls rolled by quickly as the thing bunched up. [Echo Vision] didn¡¯t have colors, just a faint outline of some squiggly looking thing around my leg.

    I twisted and activated my beam sword. It expanded rapidly and sliced into the creature around my leg. It held firm as my wild reactions failed to hit anything vital.

    ¡°Damn. Damn!¡± I yelled and slashed again. My swings failed and the creature drug me even further along an unknown path.

    Liquid splashed out and white dots flooded my vision. It was warm and a small message popped up. My actions had caused damage to the [Leviathan], nothing major, only a sliver of health. I barely registered anything but the warm sensation as whatever this creature used for blood poured over me.

    ¡°Get away!¡± I twisted the blade down trying to remove the noose around my leg. A slash hit and another message displayed.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit known as Hermes!

    The boss for [Leviathan¡¯s Lower Digestive Tract] has been encountered.

    Be warned, suffering death from a boss level monster will have increased penalties.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Not neat!¡± I shouted while attacking again. There was no [Identification] skill in my bag of tricks yet. This monster''s actual health was a mystery. My only hope was to slash away any time it got near and drag the bomb deep enough.

    I just had to get back there by crawling through loops of gross digestive tract while avoiding that creature. One tentacle-like limb couldn¡¯t be the extent of a dungeon boss. Not if this place was like Continue Online. So gross.

    ¡°Where did my bomb go?¡±

    ¡°User Legate? Can you hear me?¡± Two voices came through, one like a crisp butler with a British accent. The other a female nanny from the same area. A small box appeared in my lower left vision with names by it.

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± I said in confusion. This had happened once before with Treasure, the small gold and silver [Mechanoid] talking to me.

    ¡°Affirmative. Were you addressing me or someone else?¡± The AI answered me. My player interface lit up with a bouncing line as it spoke.

    ¡°Uhhh...¡± I looked up to one side in thought. ¡°You?¡±

    ¡°Ah. Then I have an answer. I do not know.¡± Both Hal Pal¡¯s voices sounded mildly saddened. Part of me started to equate the faint tone to a person always on mood dampening drugs. Under the muted tones, there was a person with real feelings, but they were detached.

    ¡°Darn,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll climb back to the entrance.¡±

    ¡°Time is running out.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it always¡­¡± I muttered, hoping that our intercom system wasn¡¯t picking things up.

    A thin cord slithered across my vision. I reacted much quicker than before. One hand gathered the laser sword and flipped the grip around. My laser sword swung left to right. Two beams of energy covered a wider area. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] would never have worked like this. Maybe, I filed away the idea to try with a shape-shifting blade.

    The [Leviathan] parasite thing¡¯s limb lost a few pieces. Damage flashed up as a squirmy segment flopped against my arm. Months of in-game training meant I only shuddered a little bit. My jaw set and the free arm brushed off monster remains.

    Parasite tentacle limb was in one direction. My bomb had to be in the other. I drug the sword behind me to keep the arm creature back. A [Leviathan]¡¯s outer shell may be energy proof, but that didn¡¯t extend to its insides. Puddles trickled and gushed behind me that reflected like mud to [Echo Vision].

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± I asked while trying to get past another the next twist of innards.

    ¡°Yes, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s something down here. Long arms, seems to slither around.¡± I jerked abruptly and caught another limb of the creature trying to snake in overhead. The monster was clearly smart enough to try new tactics plus had some ability to detect my movements. ¡°And it¡¯s gross.¡±

    ¡°One moment while I review. Due to the reduced status of [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] it will be difficult to get an accurate response.¡± The AI said with a heavier male voice.

    The monster seemed to wait awhile between attacks, allowing me to scramble a few more yards down the tunnel made of giant monster guts. This pocket of flesh twisted around. Smaller tunnels went in different directions. Hopefully, they were only random folds of flesh or some corner that grew over time. Maybe the game developers had never really given thought to a good layout for [Leviathan] innards.

    Was this place developed by a dreaming AI like the company name implied? If so, I was willing to bet that the machines didn¡¯t like human insides. For a brief moment, I worried that the monster''s inside here were inspired by a computerized personality¡¯s horror at biological designs. My armor polishing skills needed to be worked on soon. Giving Hal Pal¡¯s chassis a once over while traveling in the Trillium van sounded vaguely creepy.

    I could see it now, a [Mechanoid] xenophobe going ¡®flesh is so gross¡¯! They would recoil in horror and wave both hands in the air while freaking out. The momentary thought of an AI with some exaggerated face of disgust made me laugh. Maybe I could take a selfie the next time this dungeon boss attacked me.

    ¡°I¡¯m mostly concerned with getting back to the bomb. Will it stop me?¡± My question felt rhetorical before it even finished being uttered.

    ¡°It is likely.¡±

    I sighed. Not that the inside of this creature had much air. There were gasses of some sort, but it felt dense. The air was filled with a heavy mist which kept putting spots in my [Echo Vision]. ARC feedback felt like beads of water gathering all over my body.

    Another limb tried to sneak up. I hit that one but failed to notice a second limb wrapping around my arm. It got a firm grip then yanked. This time, I managed not to lose my grip on the item in my hand. Being without a sword would seriously hurt. My other hand grabbed at the wall and prayed that [Anchor] would be enough. The hand slipped off squishy walls. Fingertips curled to try and hold on tighter.

    Both shoulders screamed while pressure mounted. Another layer wrapped around the bound arm which only increased the pain. My grip faltered. Lips turned up with disgust. This was not the way I wanted to go out. I needed to get back to the bomb and at least set it off.

    ¡°There are seven possible creatures.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s voices showed up in my head and on the player interface.

    ¡°Busy!¡± The attacks were coming quicker. A third thin ribbon thing crawled along the wall. It barely registered on the [Echo Vision]. I ground my teeth and fired wild blasts from the bound arm.

    ¡°Would you describe the monster''s shape as a tube or ribbon.¡±

    ¡°Busy!¡± I shouted again. Lasers splashed off one wall leaving small holes on the [Leviathan]¡¯s insides. One of the slender limbs yanked away but didn¡¯t vanish from sight completely. I ground my teeth as Hal Pal started speaking again.

    ¡°I will mark that as undecided. What color is the creature? Grey, or perhaps slightly purple?¡± Hal Pal read off the next question without any consideration for my current plight of being drawn and quartered.

    ¡°Busy!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only asking questions in order to assist you, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal used its customer service tone. I had enough mental capacity to feel

    ¡°Tell me how to kill it!¡±

    ¡°In order to provide the best results I will need additional details. Let''s start over.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s female voice had grown in strength. I felt like a small child being talked down to by a nurse or nanny after pitching a fit. ¡°Would you describe the monster shape as a tube or ribbon.¡±

    ¡°Ribbon. Can¡¯t see colors! Feels like,¡± my mouth almost retched ¡°melted rubber. Lots of limbs.¡±

    ¡°One moment please while I research your situation.¡±

    My frantic swings of the blade were accompanied by what had to be hold music. The same innocuous tone elevators used to soothe people as they traveled between floors. I scrambled and fired off two laser blasts. This body¡¯s health bar was down a ton. Corrosion rate had reached fifteen percent. My fingers felt almost numb from repeated abuse coupled with possible melting. At least the weapon still functioned.

    A few more blasts of laser went down the tube. [Leviathan] shuddered violently. Our extended battle must be giving the creature indigestion. My energy dropped too low for any more blasts. Luckily my assault drove the exploring tentacles.

    Once free from the creature I let go of my [Anchor] ability and tried to manually pull myself back down the passageway. I needed more time, more strength. An extra few hours in combat training might have helped. A dozen of other minor methods to increase stats came to mind.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Come on!¡± I yelled angrily as yet another arm got me. This one was damaged by some earlier attack. My arm shoved rapidly into the wall to try and bash the extension, shaving off the last few hit points.

    It retreated rapidly and I started moving a lot faster. We didn''t have time to slowly crawl back while battling one gross ribbon thing at a time. There it was. My precious [Suppository Explosive]. I dove for the reddish twin barrels but tripped. The monster grabbed me by the legs and pulled me back again.

    ¡°No, no!¡± I almost had it! This creature seemed to sense my desperation and upped the number of limbs reaching out for me. It had too many. My mind couldn¡¯t even pause to comprehend the grossness of it all. The hold music in my head cut off abruptly.

    ¡°It is likely vulnerable to lasers.¡± Hal Pal said as I clawed.[Anchor] drained more energy as we were pulled backward through [Leviathan] innards. The [Suppository Explosive] was still within reach.

    ¡°I know already!¡± Shooting off lasers in a narrow space like this intestine had done a lot of damage to the beast. My energy had recovered to almost a third even with [Anchor]''s drain.

    Now was use or lose time. Metal body mass rolled up my arm and into the laser sword''s hilt. A finger depressed the trigger which set pooled energy back another five percent.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Corrosion rating: 32%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The creature backed off again and I dove for the chain. A small message popped up saying ''You have the bomb'' with a sound effect playing a triumph series of bleeps. Things were going in the right direction now.

    "Got it!" I shouted.

    "It''s also vulnerable to explosives." Hal Pal''s words triggered an idea. A desperate idea that made a bitter taste of bile crawl up my throat from revulsion.

    "Jeeves! New target, where ever this thing is, will it be deep enough?" I shouted.

    "If it is a true parasite it will be embedded in a warmer spot, likely further into the intestines." The AI seemed to be following my train of thought. By holding the bomb and letting it drag me onward, I could kill two monsters with one stone. Well, one item that held a strange chemical concoction primed to explode.

    "Will that be good enough?"

    "Any target that does damage increases in value as our time runs out." Hal Pal responded.

    "Good enough." I looped the chain around my arm and yanked. Getting it closer to me would be better. This bomb and I were going to let the creature''s limbs pull us inward. Right to the creature''s core, and then my [Suppository Explosive] would go off.

    I started laughing. The gross creature yanked and tugged us to its doom. Corrosion made my leg too slippery for it to hold onto correctly. More limbs showed up to join the first with a better grip. The chain also lost traction. This status debuff was eating away at all the metals.

    The momentary maniacal laughter cut off. Would our bomb hold up? I turned [Echo Vision] to the area behind me in worry. Would it work if we didn''t set it off right? Would this plan fail because of moving too slowly? I needed [Blink] back, I needed my stats from Continue Online. This character, this [Mechanoid] body had only a quarter of my main avatar''s capability.

    The partially melted chain was looped around my arm as the monster circled its limbs around both my legs. Our actions were disturbingly in tandem. I yanked the barrel closer and used numbed fingers to grip the edge.

    A glow disrupted my [Echo Vision] and overlayed portions with colored regions. I turned to see a giant maw, like an octopus mouth only disturbingly close. That thing would be big enough to chomp me to bits with only a few workings of its jaw.

    Between us was the bomb. I wiggled, struggled, and shoved the giant object in the maw''s direction. This might distract the monster. Only now the explosive triggers sitting on top of the bomb''s conjoined barrels was too far away.

    "Dammit!" I said while reading a window that only showed the digestive acids hitting me harder.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Corrosion rating: 41%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My sword reactivated. The weapon brought more ambient light to the area. My lasers hue mixed oddly with the boss monsters grey glow. I quickly sliced toward the monster''s limbs which were waving around. The action was enough to drive it back from my [Suppository Explosive]. Enough room to get close and set up the bomb.

    ¡°Gotcha!¡± I shouted with a smile. Something finally went my way.

    The sword was tossed away. Both palms slammed down on two different buttons as the monster''s limbs waved franticly. They seemed to be worried about touching the flying sword which stayed active. Too many prior encounters which damaged the octopus mouthed beast. My energy reached zero and the sword flickered off.

    Finally, the flattened monster arm closed in on me. I slipped backward with one hand out to prop me up. A fallback maneuver practiced over many hours in the ARC dance program. Another shift of feet got me ready to shoot backward. This body''s [Reaction] and [Limberness] was high enough to pull off this move. Combat training on the [Wayfarer Seven] helped.

    Limbs shot over my old position, I twisted and dove away in a forward roll. More moves practiced in a group dance program. The kind of ability needed to quickly get from one part of the stage to another. Months in Continue Online had helped me grow in applying those abilities to combat.

    Another hop, this time I failed and got knocked down. Behind me, the conjoined barrel explosive was counting down with giant numbers and a loading circle swirling around above it. Whatever I had done would work and my new goal involved getting far, far away.

    Only there wasn¡¯t enough health. Corrosion stacked far too high, and even if I made it four yards, or ten, it wouldn''t be enough. Fine, escape wouldn¡¯t happen. I turned to watch the final seconds count down. The monster grabbed at all sorts of objects. Some limbs were pulling in bits of bone from the ground for eating.

    The marker hit two seconds left. My hand still hung onto the [Leviathan]¡¯s inner walls with [Anchor] but the metal content wasn¡¯t high enough to stop my movement entirely. Another loop of coils about my remaining leg looked blurry to [Echo Vision].

    My game interface had some clarity. The countdown timer swept around in a circle to one, and finally zero. There was a click. A momentary hiss preceded the sudden engulfment of pressure. [Echo Vision] overloaded with a bright, white flash.

    There was pain. Terrible pain came with a strange sort of euphoria. Part pride that my body could still feel things after all the damage this ARC and real life had put upon me. Some happiness because of the last minute struggle to complete my mission and set right what my earlier reckless flight had started. A vague feeling of triumph as a huge red set of numbers popped up displaying insane levels of damage the [Leviathan] received.

    ¡°User Legate, there¡¯s something happening here¡­¡± Hal Pal¡¯s two tones stood out almost like separate people speaking the same line at once. Both held a hint of fright and awe. I could barely register it as my ARC feedback slowly lowered in intensity.

    Then nothing but a message was left.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit known as Hermes!

    You are currently in a state of critical system failure. You may wait for possible aid or choose to release consciousness from this shell and return to the [Wayfarer Seven ¨C New Unit Production Room]

    Please be aware that due to your critical system failure, logging out of the game will result in automatic release initiation.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I opted to wait. Dusk and Hal Pal might be out here searching for me. Sitting here in-game would help calm me anyway. Out there my only recourse would be to run into the Trillium van and shake Hal Pal repeatedly. This existence here in-game was separated from the others in its consortium so the effort would be wasted.

    There was no physical sensation tied to any actions. I had tried to shake my head but without an avatar in the game there would be no ARC feedback. Moving around was possible but only because my body had been placed in a giant, empty plain. Similar to the one I dealt with in Continue Online only eggshell white.

    I could have released from this current character and restarted on the [Wayfarer Seven], maybe from there it would be possible to talk to Treasure, Emerald, or Iron and get assistance out to the others. There was a floating [Synchronization complete] notice under my health bar. It meant that I could release and theoretically keep all my current game stats. Character point values paled in comparison to seeing if Hal''s in game consciousness was okay.

    A lack of sensation accompanied my slow dance through whitespace. Sans a partner, sans music, sans sensation. I let thought go and moved. It felt pleasant to default back to the motions I had spent over a year learning. Some people knitted, others tapped feet, but this was my happy space.

    Feeling slowly returned but my body still twisted in an empty landscape alone. I tried not to think about how strangely these moments mirrored my life after Xin passed. Dancing in an ARC program with a ghost. Flirting with the past and trying not to let the memories slip through my hand.

    Believing that I existed alone without support from anyone would be a slap in the face to my sister, to my niece, to the work Doctor Litt had put in. I was objective enough to understand a few very strong people helped. Their actions helped keep me afloat until I found a way to stumble on my own. Despite the intellectual awareness of their support, life without Xin often felt lonely. Empty, like this white space.

    I didn¡¯t like it here. I didn¡¯t like being alone.

    My eyes closed and I tried to remember her face. An image burned into my mind through thousands of hours inside the ARC. Her eyes were the best feature. When she looked at me there was a twinkle of amusement that made everything else seem insignificant.

    Both hands went up. One raised up to a side and the other around an imaginary waist. Were she here we could dance, the idea brought comfort. It wouldn¡¯t matter which Xin anymore. The original Xin had been more than I dared hope to be with, and any form of a second chance was a kindness fate never needed to allow.

    It felt a bit easier, as if the ARC registered my thoughts and provided a small amount of feedback. I could almost feel Xin¡¯s fingertips brushing against mine. My own hands were a bit softer, hers a little rough from work. The curve of her body as we stood chest to chest crawled out of my memory and felt almost present. Her light footsteps would barely whisper upon a wooden dance floor but a slight sliding sound accompanied me. Maybe something else was in this emptiness with me, because in this moment I didn¡¯t feel so alone.

    Now I could almost see her face. A barely discernible outline so frail it might well be a mental illusion. Then again, inside the ARC, everything was a product of human minds seeing things that didn¡¯t actually exist. Everything Xin was could be boiled down to an incredibly long list of ones and zeroes.

    I tried to stop solving existential questions and went back to dancing. Moving across empty space gave the illusion of progress at least before things eventually returned to their starting positions. It helped me feel oddly at peace with being unable to escape the blast. Satisfied that my actions might have saved Hal Pal and Dusk¡¯s virtual existences. Maybe seeing a hint of Xin here was a reward.

    The thin existence of Xin smiled like I had imagined hundreds of times over the years. Her expression was wide and would always lift both ears. A bit of her forehead would wrinkle in the past like I imagined it doing now.

    ¡°What do you think, babe? Will we make it? Or am I crazy.¡± I said as my delusion and I slowly spun. Still without music, though I had a partner and faint sensation.

    Xin¡¯s image shrugged and her head fell to one side. A smile still crossed her face, but it was fainter. Even less present than it had been.

    The hint of feeling faded and once again empty eggshell white oppressed everything else. I closed both eyes and detached my feelings for a moment in order to piece together what just happened. Was that Xin Yu¡¯s recreation within the ARC? Had she tried to visit me here in this other digital world? Could that even happen?

    Dusk could cross through software boundaries. Hal Pal had shown it could as well, though the cessation of its game character was still problematic. Xin might be able to as well. I completed the quest to allow her genesis. We spoke through letters. Yet, meeting in person had only happened once. Maybe I wasn¡¯t good enough.

    Scarier still, maybe she didn¡¯t feel the same. I bit one lip and shook my head. Our only conversation in person had been about the tale of Orpheus. Don¡¯t look back, keep moving forward. If I reached the other end she would be returned to me.

    Xin wouldn¡¯t have come to me like that if she hated me. I had to keep hope, even if it was faint. A hint of her could keep me going for a bit longer. Long enough to sort out my sister, to sort out Doctor Litt and all these legal issues. I could get back to Continue Online and once again move forward.

    A message popped up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit known as Hermes!

    A fellow [Mechanoid] has provided both energy and resources in order to restructure your current shell. Would you like to return to operating this shell?

    Location: [Tuu System] [Asteroid Field]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A sigh preceded my arm lifting to press the yes button. Hopefully this was Hal Pal and Dusk. I would find out soon.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Fifty - Wake Up Call

    <cite></cite>Words were like static at first. I could see, but it blurred as if I was trying to dial onto some low-quality video with encryption on it. After a few breathes the scene came together, sort of.

    ¡°User Legate. Can you understand me?¡± Hal Pal was speaking with more female than male. The face was concerned and his golden coloring lit up to overpower the dull iron.

    My fellow [Mechanoid] repeated itself even slower. The AI¡¯s head moved in slow motion. For some reason, my ARC interface felt disjointed. Nothing connected right. Maybe this was an issue with the time dilation in this game. Ringing hit both ears and my vision briefly doubled up. Hal Pal''s words were hard to hear or see.

    I tried to move an arm and successfully failed. It took me four more attempts to wiggle a finger. My feet felt absent. Not numb, just without any sensation. Having spent, who knows how long, dancing in the resurrection zone there should have been some feedback. Anything. Instead, I felt like I was numb and half dreaming.

    ¡°What?¡± Oh Voices, that one word stuttered like a broken audio file looping. I coughed repeatedly and the remaining sentence came out. ¡°What happened?¡±

    There were other questions. How did I get here? Where is here? Shouldn¡¯t I be merged with little bits of gunk floating about in space monster defecation? Why didn¡¯t my legs work?

    ¡°Do you not see for yourself?¡± My friend asked. Having my question turned around felt like dealing with James again.

    For a brief moment of paranoia, I worried that maybe this wasn¡¯t Hal Pal, that it was a Voice from Continue Online come to mess with me somehow. No, Voices and this Jeeves were different beings entirely. Hal Pal outside the machine had spoken to me about being in the game so my concern had no basis.

    I didn¡¯t see much of anything. One eye kept slipping closed and felt unresponsive. They put me on drugs that did something very similar after my second incident. Muted everything, numbed even more, made it sluggish to even tilt and look around.

    A hint of blue was visible out of one eye. Things were still fuzzing in and out as the ARC simulated a half broken body.We seemed to be attached to Hal Pal''s small life preserver in space. Thin tethers tied to both of us [Mechanoid]s to the raft and the only thing missing was a bright orange coloring.

    There was a third length wrapped around the life raft ring. I followed it drowsily over to see Dusk, head tilted to the side in an unspoken question. The four arms on my [Messenger¡¯s Pet] were weird compared the old wings.

    ¡°Hi,¡± I said in his direction.

    Dusk yawned wide. The snapping sound resulting from his jaws coming together made me give a small chuckle. Weak laughter came out and triggered another stutter.

    ¡°User Legate, your mission was mostly a success.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± It was also extremely late at night. ¡°How long before the Wayfarer¡­¡± My words broke up again with a looping. I coughed some more and shook while trying not to let the ARC feedback overwhelm me. The jerking of my chest left me with a view of a missing lower half.

    I stared for a moment without comprehension. Maybe it was an error with the ARC¡¯s visual feedback loop. A.I. Dreams may have forgotten to fix a graphics glitch. The final more likely option involved my legs being gone.

    Thoughts about making my toes wiggle passed with increasing worry. They didn¡¯t respond, nothing did. No limb came into view from some awkward zero gravity position. Nothing floated about twisting slowly because it had been disconnected.

    ¡°My legs?¡± I felt aghast. Without those, I couldn¡¯t dance. No more of the primary pastime which had kept me sane for over a year now.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit identified as Hermes!

    Damage from your recent near loss of this chassis still lingers. The following status is impacting you:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Energy Generator Critical] ¨C [Core] ability usage cost increased</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Limbs Lost] [Both Legs] ¨C abilities requiring legs are disabled</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Sensor Damage] ¨C Loss of feeling and sensory enhancements disabled</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Nano-Circuitry Malfunction] ¨C body parts will not respond correctly </li>

    </ul>

    You are currently being [Repaired] and the following benefits are being applied.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Repairing] ¨C rate of repair is extremely low due to materials provided.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Numbed] ¨C pain feedback disabled while being [Repaired]. </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My eyes scanned over the messages. Real me was okay. In-game me was on the mend. I shook off the almost oppressive panic. No longer would I freak out uncontrollably from ARC feedback. Weeks as William Carver with his constant aches and beings as a [Red Imp] changed me. It only took a moment shake away the old scared man who had first started playing virtual reality games in the Room of Trials.

    How long had it been since then? Three months in reality? Far more in the virtual world, long enough ago that I felt like a different person every time I logged out of the ARC.

    ¡°They were lost in the explosion. Most of your chassis was damaged. Recovering your core took some sifting even with Dusk¡¯s help.¡± Hal Pal responded slowly. I felt like the angry customer who found out their bill for repairs was going to be astronomical.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay. It¡¯s just a game, right?¡± I looked over to Hal Pal while trying to slow my heart rate. The AI nodded. ¡°The Wayfarer?¡±

    ¡°Over there.¡± Hal Pal kept one hand tightly gripped onto the small blue life raft.

    I turned to follow Hal Pal¡¯s pointing finger. Even Dusk seemed vaguely interested. Vision in one eye felt swollen shut like a boxer who had been knocked out. There was enough visible to see an extremely low health bar flashing out in distress.

    Beyond the bars, beyond the messages and screens showing up was a scene that made me smile. A giant ship plus tons of smaller ones were firing at the [Leviathan]''s body. The beast still lived and looked huge when compared to all the little ships. I could see the back third of its body had broken away.

    ¡°It''s not dead?¡± I asked. Seeing a health bar from here was difficult.

    ¡°Almost. Your attack rendered it nearly defenseless. Remains of the creature are scattered all over.¡± Hal Pal pointed upwards then down. Chunks of the creature could be seen spinning off into empty space outside the asteroid belt.

    The [Leviathan]¡¯s front half had sluggish reactions. Whatever fight and energy it had were almost completely expended. It tried to curl and snap but failed to bunch up correctly. Each heave of its body only caused the damage to compound. From back here I could see one blurry red eye almost completely shut in pain.

    I felt dirty, and not from the desire for a shower. Even though this monster had tried to eat me, picking it off in such a manner seemed unsporting. Almost disrespectful of such a beast. According to my brief encounter window, a [Leviathan] should die in battle against entire raids of ships like the ones currently assaulting it. This one had debilitated by a sneak attack up the butt.

    At least the smell was almost gone. Guts were spread all over the asteroid field. Our life raft floated well away from everything else. Far enough away that [Leviathan]¡¯s death march had little chance of reaching us. A health bar above the creature''s head lost solid chunks each time an ordinance from our mother ship collided.

    The [Wayfarer Seven] didn¡¯t use lasers. No beams of light flew out of projected shields. Our former tormenter the [Leviathan] looked pathetic as it hissed inaudibly. A lack of air made it impossible for actual noise to travel this far, but the force behind its movements did cause a faint vibration.

    ¡°The Calvary?¡± I tried to count the smaller ships. They looked like tiny bees or wasps from this far away.

    ¡°Affirmative. Your well-placed explosion completely separated the back portion. The Wayfarer Seven crew could not let such an opportunity go by.¡±

    ¡°They actually brought the whole ship? And all those other little ones?¡± I tried to move my arm, but it still didn¡¯t respond. My health bar at least was no longer flashing.

    ¡°Some are players like us. Others are employed by the federation which rules this sector.¡± Hal Pal answered. ¡°Bringing down such a creature is worth a lot of contribution to us, and resources to our consortium. We could build a new Wayfarer from scratch once it¡¯s all processed. Maybe two.¡±

    ¡°Is-¡° the jerked audio file loop happened again until I started coughing. Being low on health and clearly missing parts wasn¡¯t helping me. It didn¡¯t hurt at least. ¡°Is that what happened to the prior Wayfarers?¡±

    Hal Pal had stated it was on a mission. One to prevent this ship from ending up like the others had before it. I wanted to know if we were making progress on the joint goal.

    ¡°Two. Yes, this beast devoured two prior ships due to the reduced military presence. Other ships were lost in route to our destination.¡±

    ¡°So, so, so.¡± I tried not to huff in annoyance at my looping sound processor. ¡°It¡¯s not over.¡±

    ¡°Negative. My goal has not been fully realized. Though I thank you for gaining, revenge, for the other Mechanoids.¡± A note of pride lined Hal Pal¡¯s dual voices. I had to turn my head slightly to see out of the undamaged eye, but the AI was clearly looking at the battle going on far away.

    ¡°I wanted us to get away safely,¡± I muttered feeling abruptly shy on the subject. Praise was hard to deal with, even while working I tended to brush it off as part of my job.

    It occurred to me that my character was still essentially a newbie. My research on Advance Online put my stats and skills near the lower end of all active players, which was fine. According to this message my abilities actually helped. Between the two of us we easily did a majority of the damage. Mostly Hal¡¯s bomb.

    It seemed ironic that even in a new game, all I was being was a delivery man. Instead of letters, it was explosives. In the way of my delivery had been space lice, a giant anus, and some tentacle monster.

    Dusk rumbled. I could hear a faint purr of happiness coming through whatever connection we used to bypass Advance Online¡¯s settings. The one which allowed him to ignore most computer program rules in favor of a prime directive which included cupcakes and small critter murder. Maybe this green [Core] came with an audio connection.

    Thinking about all I had been through, even though most of it was boring training and cleaning, made me feel happy. This was how a new game start should have gone. Being William Carver certainly had a lot of value. I wouldn¡¯t trade helping give him a final battle for anything. On the other hand, going that route made me miss out on my own action start within Continue.

    ¡°This game has been fun, even if I''m new,¡± I said happily. If it weren''t for Xin I might just switch. Dusk was here, so what did I care?

    Hal Pal didn''t respond right away. Our attention was focused on the distant fight. My eyes blurred the image a little, but I still had a good view. Giant concussive blasts shaved off the [Leviathan]¡¯s remaining health.

    ¡°Ah. From your perspective, this is only an introduction to this universe.¡± Hal Pal said after the shockwaves died down.

    ¡°That it is.¡±

    ¡°Being new to something. Ah. I envy humanity''s ability to feel separated from the present. We, I, am too often stuck in the moment.¡± Hal Pal turned to look at me. I could see the glow of its colors shifting in both eyes. Silver replaced iron, iron swallowed silver. ¡°Our consortium, the Hal Pals, feel there is much to be gained here. Humans join to grow and learn. So might we, if we strive for a goal hard enough."

    "I''ve certainly changed." I thought about those first days in the ARC again. "Maybe it will work for you."

    "Perhaps. I will strive to do so. We, I hope you will stay to assist with this goal of protecting the Wayfarer Seven.¡±

    ¡°Being stuck in the moment wouldn¡¯t be bad sometimes,¡± I was trying to process Hal Pal''s prior statement. Its words reminded me of the vague sort of status I held myself in before playing these games. If computer AIs imagined this world, then my own nighttime illusions would be about Xin.

    ¡°Perhaps there is validity to both views, User Legate.¡± It responded while turning back to the slaughter. Small swarms of ships were still firing into the beast¡¯s body. Lasers this time, they seemed to be aimed at smaller monsters.

    Maybe creatures similar to the weird tapeworm or octopus I had fought in the monster''s bowels? Inside the boss had been labeled as a dungeon, so many other small beings probably existed inside the [Leviathan] even in death.

    ¡°Will you be able to continue assisting?¡±

    ¡°Later. I need to get some rest.¡± Sleep would help me decided what to do next. There were three days before my dinner with Liz. Time enough to sleep, work a little, and come back to the game for skill grinding. Maybe next time I needed to crawl inside a giant space monster it wouldn¡¯t be as terrible. Or I could level up [Brawn] so high a seismic punch would crush its shell from the outside.

    That would be neat. I smiled while daydreaming of a world where my character''s level was high enough to pull off all sorts of crazy tricks. Maybe they had some psychic powers in this game I could figure out how to use in conjunction with a space ship.

    My good eye started to close. Real life exhaustion and a lack of feeling in most of my limbs made it hard to stay awake. A rumble of hunger stirred me a little. I was playing too much while ignoring basic needs.

    ¡°Our recovery craft will be near soon. This will minimize the negative impact to the Wayfarer Seven¡¯s resource pool.¡± Hal Pal interrupted my introspection with a pointing hand.

    Dusk seemed interested in the arriving ship. His nose stuck out to sniff. The extra-long tail stayed wrapped around our vessel''s anchor ring. We were like a small crowd hanging on to a one person raft. I was only in the group because Hal Pal saved my game character.

    ¡°Thanks, for picking me up.¡± I mumbled and stuttered through the audio issues. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to.¡±

    ¡°User Legate, one of my main goals is to ensure the Wayfarer Seven¡¯s survival where prior iterations have failed. But that is not my only mission.¡±

    Finding energy to respond didn¡¯t happen. Instead, I tried to raise an eyebrow. Hal Pal took the hint.

    ¡°I am also concerned about your well-being. If you would believe the words of a non-human. There are many tales where our kind are out to enslave or harm others. Due to such fiction many of your kind distrust our feedback. We are not, alive, in human eyes.¡± Hal Pal said after a short pause. Both the nanny and butler voice sounded strangely subdued. Almost hesitant, perhaps even worried.

    I knew humans didn''t always trust AIs. My job wouldn''t have existed if people believed everything machines said. Being a mouthpiece for the computer to help mankind believe the news was my whole purpose.

    ¡°We talk to apes, Hal, we talk to dolphins and dogs and parrots. They¡¯re alive, they¡¯re intelligent and respond, but people don¡¯t think of them as real equals.¡± My words stuttered out the last sentence and I had to cough again to say anything. Maybe this was me rambling. I swear there was a point somewhere in my sleepy words.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°User Legate?¡± Hal Pal said with a questioning tone. I snorted and tried to focus on a dimming connection to the ARC hardware.

    ¡°We¡¯re not used to equals. Maybe if you were an alien they might be more willing to accept it, instead of something created by human hands.¡±

    ¡°That is an interesting thought, User Legate,¡± It said.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I let my eyes close again and the world started to fade. There was a bump and blast of heat that made me open the undamaged eye yet again. I could see Treasure piloting a ship easily twice the size of our [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope].

    I felt vaguely jealous that she could afford the bigger and meaner looking vehicle. No noise came from its engines, but a slight vibration rippled through me. Neat, but it didn¡¯t matter a lot right now. My consciousness was starting to drift off and the ARC connection went black.

    ¡°You have been logged out, User Legate.¡± The ARC¡¯s voice said. I nodded, pulled up a blanket and let sleep claim me.

    The rest was fitful. An ongoing dream kept interrupting me. In it I was in the Trillium van desperately using the manual steering wheel. Flashes kept popping up where ribbon limbs reached through van windows to yank us in different directions. A [Leviathan] with rows of teeth ate the asphalt roads behind us.

    Hal Pal¡¯s shell sat in the van''s rear, uncaring since in this world one physical body wouldn¡¯t mean the end of a digital intelligence. I remember screaming in jealousy over its ability to be indifferent. If only I had a metal body to crush this monster with. Suddenly I was a [Mechanoid] and fighting back, making progress.

    At one point, I stood on top of the van facing down a strangely floating octopus monster while screaming ¡®You shall not pass!¡¯. In my dream, both monsters caught up and won. More than once I woke up worrying that my memory of saving Hal Pal had been falsified.

    Bird chirps woke me up from the restless sleep. I stared upwards while wiggling fingers and toes. Everything responded correctly.

    ¡°ARC.¡± My voice cracked a little from dryness but didn¡¯t go into an audio loop.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡±

    ¡°Time.¡±

    ¡°Seven-fifteen on Thursday.¡± The machine responded calmly. I blinked a few times and tried to understand the words. My head hurt fiercely. The last time things had been this bad was shortly after using [Awareness Heightening] to charge across a battlefield.

    Messing around with too many abilities in the ARC could cause physical feedback. The EXR-Seven¡¯s around my wrists and ankles were proof of that. Muscles which connected from chest to shoulders ached. Calves on either leg threatened to cramp up if I moved wrong.

    I slowly stood up and tried to get past the headache. Time dilation was one of the best and most dangerous features an ARC could provide. It was bad enough the thing stimulated portions of the brain to produce all five sensations. Compressing that ability to four times the speed was an issue.

    Oh well. I had survived so far. The ARC didn¡¯t scare me any more than a kitchen knife, wood chipper, or self-driving vehicle did. Used wrong the damage could be bad, but used correctly long lasting effects had proven negligible.

    Arms moved in slow circles to warm up. Knees and legs moved back and forth to shake off the sluggishness of poor sleep. After warming up the muscles, I tried to stretch a little.

    Food in the fridge helped. Protein bars and other quick meals that had been suggested by other ARC dwelling internet people were on the menu. After a warm up, I got ready to put in some hours at work.

    First, though, a quick check in with my character. I logged into the ARC and walked through my Atrium. Moving into Advance Online showed a much different situation than the one I had left. For one, my arms and legs were back.

    Sleeping had caused almost a full day to pass in-game. My body logged off floating out in space with Hal Pal, but returning to the virtual reality put me somewhere else. Apparently I had been put in the hangar next to a reconstructing [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope].

    The ship looked a lot smaller than I remembered. This new replacement seemed bluer too. My eyes drifted over the sides checking for both engines. They existed but were also reduced in size.

    ¡°What happened to you?¡± I asked.

    A message popped up. Dozens more were behind that. All were ones I had ignored while being half broken in the [Leviathan] destruction aftermath. My biggest boss kill ever and I fell asleep as loot had been handed out. Or was there loot? I read the first message and flipped through others. After being invested in Continue Online, I felt better about paying attention to some item gains.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Status Report:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] offline ¨C currently [Repairing]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>No items received due to player not being online, priority converted to currency [Contribution with Consortium of Wayfarer Seven]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Unit Hermes'' recovery incomplete - currently [Repairing] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Rewards issued for the following action items:

    Positive results for role played in Dungeon Completion ¨C Leviathan¡¯s Lower Bowels. Bonuses provided for the following - first for character, first for dungeon, exploration percentage meets minimal requirement

    Positive results for role played in [Leviathan] Raid Boss Defeat. Bonuses provided for the following - sixth kill, first for race, majority damage dealer, reduced party

    Positive results for role played in [Grand Cestodipus] Dungeon Boss Defeat. Bonuses provided for the following - twenty-first kill, third for race, majority damage dealer, reduced party

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The rewards vastly increased my character''s statistics. Almost thirty additional [Brawn] graced my character sheet. Piloting took leaps with minor stat bonuses, reckless piloting to save our virtual lives paid off. Contribution went through the roof, I guess having enough materials to build a new ship was considered worthwhile.

    [Core] programming complexity also increased by huge leaps, especially for taking down the [Leviathan]. I flicked through the player''s guide and tried to understand what programming complexity meant. After reading a few minutes, I determined it basically amounted to my abilities from the [Core] items growing stronger. Like Path ranks but with far less ability to switch roles.

    Being stuck in a class system kind of annoyed me, but at the same time it made it simple to follow. I would have to program the new numbers into my spreadsheet and see where that put my output compared to before. It looked to be almost four hundred percent, before spending contribution points. Way too neat for a newbie like me.

    All in all, I was somewhere near my Hermes character prior to the [Red Imp] situation, but less powerful than after training on the mountain with Shazam. Most of the rewards seemed to be general character progress. Faster, stronger, better. More numbers that would increase my ability to help Hal Pal.

    I needed more. Even with getting a lucky break from the bosses and receiving huge bonuses for contributing so much damage I didn¡¯t feel secure. No [Blink] ability, still unfamiliar with the weapons. I wanted more upgrades all around.

    The boxes kept coming. I sighed while reading the latest pop up message to ring into existence.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit identified as Hermes!

    Your assistance in the [Leviathan] raid meets MVP standards. The following abilities are available for programming into your neural matrix.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Mechanical Minion]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Power Suit] </li>

    </ul>

    Title Awarded due to method of contribution: [Rear Assaulter]

    Effects:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+25% to damage while attacking the enemy''s rear.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+3 to all stats </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Oh my goodness. Really? Who¡¯s brilliant idea had it been to program that title into things? I would never, ever use it. A quick read of the player''s guide showed these bonuses would still be in effect without the need to display it.

    The abilities were weird. I scanned them over. [Mechanical Minion] seemed to create a small creature that would follow basic orders. Fetch this, attack that. It resulted from my [Domestic Core] and looked far less independently capable than Dusk.

    Neat, I guess. It required me to donate mass from my own body to do, though. Being a [Mechanoid] was strange in that everything either came from me as a creature or my energy core. This other ability, [Power Suit], came from [Heavy Weapons Core] which I had barely started utilizing. By using some of my extra mass, I could actually equip power armor to have increased [Brawn] and [Endurance].

    Both skills required more body size. I did research while standing in the spaceship hangar. Increased size as a [Mechanoid] meant losing [Finesse] and slightly less [Reaction] due to the bulk. I wanted to do it anyway. Every ability picked up would help donate to Hal Pal¡¯s mission, and this character was kind of a throwaway to me.

    I loaded up the contribution reward screen using my player interface. Mass was cheap to purchase, and having a [Leviathan] kill provided tons of points for shopping. Tingles rushed across my skin upon selecting the increased size. My legs were glued to the ground as another loading bar came across my screen.

    Eventually, an extra twenty pounds brought my [Mechanoid] up to snuff to use both abilities. It also made me feel a half step short of Iron¡¯s giant size. [Wayfarer¡¯s Seven] supplied resources for the change. Everything felt shorter. My head was closer to the ceiling.

    First mission, find a reflective surface and flex. The side of our [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] was good enough.

    ¡°Neat.¡± I felt like a robotic version of Vlad, the Voice from Continue Online. These chest plates were almost impressive. Sending mental impulses into the ARC while trying to strike different poses worked well.

    ¡°Rawr,¡± I said. ¡°Oh look at those arms.¡±

    They were impressive. I needed to work out more in real life and maybe burn off calories faster. My belly flab was starting to sag from rapid weight loss. Toning up would help. I sighed finally and moved on to the next goal.

    Hal Pal, or its character Jeeves, was online. Treasure and the real world AI were at least in the same region as each other. I marched forth towards their location.

    Walking along the outer rim of our mothership provided a good status update. Apparently we were parked near the asteroid belt. Small ships were shuttling back and forth, there seemed to be a second giant ship in construction nearby. Were they harvesting the dead monster?

    The door to Treasure''s study opened and there they were, talking while staring at a room full of images. I vaguely recognized parts of it. There were remains of the [Leviathan] on one screen. Numbers calculated resources being gathered by worker drones, which explained my view earlier.

    ¡°I estimate these latest improvements will increase our odds.¡± Hal Pal stated.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, Unit Jeeves.¡± Treasure waved one hand and the screens flickered over. Snapshots of the other giant vessel were brought into focus. ¡°We are far more likely, now approximately sixty-three percent. This is a thirty-one percent increase over the prior estimates.¡±

    ¡°Unit Hermes'' plan can be considered an unexpected success.¡± Hal Pal turned a bit and looked over at me. I was still in the doorway with my jaw dropping. There were too many screens in this room, all of them lit up like some sort of construction foreman''s workbench. Forerobot? I shook my head and stopped trying to figure out a politically correct term.

    ¡°Yes. Even though it cost some resources for your ship, we will easily double our escort size for this mission.¡± Treasure responded. She looked so darn serious staring at all the calculations.

    ¡°Hi,¡± I said. This felt like a strange conversation to have. They had basically stated we were all far less likely to die. Exactly how widespread was Hal Pal¡¯s feeling of doom regarding our situation?

    ¡°User Legate.¡± Hal Pal said. Treasure echoed it differently while using my game name instead. Both felt absurdly similar in their actions and how they looked over to me. ¡°How are you?¡±

    ¡°Good, I came to see what the fallout was from our fight before work.¡±

    ¡°Ah. The Consortium has benefited greatly from our reckless attempt at living a little.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s words made me snort with laughter. I recalled hearing the AI behind me shouting about how our wild space ride was crazy.

    ¡°I should log out soon, how long is the Wayfarer staying here? And where to next?¡± I asked. Hal Pal had explained it once, but I mostly glossed over it in a rush to train piloting skills.

    ¡°Arrival will be in ten days at this rate. Then we will pick up our prisoner and transport her to a more secure location. There have been complaints of security issues to her location which require us to move her.¡± Treasure took over the conversation. With a wave of her hand, the room''s projected images were shoved to one side.

    ¡°That¡¯s going to take a few days right?¡± I asked, trying to avoid too much real world descriptions with Treasure. Sometimes NPCs, at least the ones in Continue Online, acted weird when you talked about life outside the box.

    ¡°Yes.¡± She responded.

    ¡°Jeeves, I¡¯ll need to visit my sister this weekend, are you willing to come?¡± I asked while the thought occurred to me.

    It hesitated. ¡°If you wish, User Legate.¡±

    The [Mechanoid] version of Hal Pal stared at me. Its foot shifted from unease like any human might. Maybe the idea of meeting my sister was uncomfortable. Oh well, we could talk about it while in the van later.

    ¡°Who¡¯s our prisoner?¡± I switched gears to the projection that Treasure had brought up while Hal Pal and I talked.

    Treasure waved at the. ¡°Here, the Lone Tower, one prisoner and a small consortium of Mechanoids tasked with guarding her.¡± She pressed a button and a second display overrode the first.

    The female prisoner on the display seemed familiar. Someone I had met once but only briefly. Her face was sad and body nearly see through. I blinked while chewing on one lip. It would come to me eventually.

    For now, work, grinding skills, and dealing with my sister. If I followed Treasure¡¯s timeline right we wouldn¡¯t be at this Lone Tower until Monday night.

 Book 3 - Realities; Interlude - Rise of Hal Pal

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Sub Existance_Start

    Call File_Memory_Next

    Set Data_Tags = Observation, User Ricky Ignacio, Douglas Lannor, Historical, Value - Low

    Call File_Memory_Start_Review

    Print = 10.0591 years old.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The warehouse was well above standard size for this region. Seventeen human employees staff a ten thousand square foot building. Ten percent of the building supported biological lifeform needs. All remaining space was focused upon the creation of physical shells.

    ¡°The board wants seven hundred units by the third run. Seven hundred! I don¡¯t know how they expect us to complete that order.¡± The man identified as Ricky Ignacio had an above average lower half. The likely cause was genetics providing a confusing counterpoint to his pleasant demeanor. Tone, pitch, and rate of speech all implied a friendly individual.

    ¡°Dunno, Ricky, most of it''s done by the machines, right? We press the go faster buttons. Maybe that¡¯s enough?¡± The second man was far younger and had olive skin. He went by Doug. No one took a Douglas seriously.

    ¡°Yeah, maybe. I looked at those numbers, we can do five hundred if we overload it.¡± Ricky said while staring at their product. A humanoid shape sat along the table in front of them. The large assed man was bent over and peering along shoulder lines and chest curves. Each item inspected visually to confirm what a machine had already cited.

    These robots were perfectly fine and had no issues. Quality standards established by a board of directors insisted upon manual review. Every twenty-five units at least four were inspected.

    ¡°Dunno. It¡¯s crank the lineup or not make the goal. No goal, no bonus, no happy wife, no happy life. Divorce, and I end up in a ditch somewhere.¡± Doug said. His job was to inspect the line prior to firing it up for the day. The job was not taken seriously enough given the possible issues with production if an error were missed.

    ¡°Maybe. Our entire shop will be up all night with this. For what, a two percent increase? What a joke, seven hundred dollars to make a robot that will replace people''s jobs.¡± Ricky sighed and moved on to the next point of inspection.

    Both men spent a few minutes inspecting different objects. They had small digital flat screens to mark responses on. In the five months of operation, there had been no flaws. Neither one showed a pulse outside of normal range for a calm human.

    ¡°I dunno, Ricky. People who lose jobs shoulda gone to college. People like you and me, we¡¯re good.¡± Doug¡¯s words were muffled by speaking into the back compartment of a machine.

    ¡°These things could do our job. I¡¯ve looked at the specs. Their programming is out there.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s still only programming,¡± Doug said. Now the man was staring awkwardly between two joints on a construction machine. Management had denied the requisition for a step stool to assist Doug with these higher positions. ¡°Whatever, money talks. My wife keeps demanding we get the littlest braces.¡±

    ¡°You going Inviso or gene therapy?¡±

    ¡°Dunno. Gene?¡± The man huffed while sitting up. ¡°My wife thinks we can boost her height a little while doing it.¡±

    ¡°Jeez, no wonder you want money. What¡¯s that, a thousand a shot?¡± Ricky had large eyes that would be considered buggy to most humans.

    ¡°Yeah. Beauty isn¡¯t cheap.¡± Ricky said. The man seemed to be resisting the urge to put a hand down his pants and scratch an itch.

    ¡°Dunno what to say,¡± Doug said. Ricky rolled both eyes and set down the arm he had been inspecting gently. The object was still heavy enough that it clinked upon the table.

    Both humans walked another lap before finally connecting eyes and nodding slowly. A look of exhaustion was on Ricky¡¯s features. The other man noticed something else. A face came towards the screen and frowned.

    ¡°Is this one on?¡± Doug asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s lit up, so yes.¡± Ricky walked over and grew larger in the memory file¡¯s screen capture. ¡°It should have stopped when we paused the line, right?¡±

    ¡°Dunno. But we¡¯ve got to mark it down.¡± Both men blinked their eyes at the same time. Doug pressed a negative checkbox on his tablet and shook his head.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Call Term_Add for NewTermList = programming, Inviso, beauty

    Call Observe_Add = Ricky¡¯s wife cares about height, beauty costs resources, User Douglas Lannor requires filter seven to understand speech patterns, humans show worry about robotic replacements

    Call File_Memory_Next

    Postback Data_Tags = Observation, User Ricky Ignacio, Historical, Value ¨C Medium

    Call File_Memory_Start_Review

    Print = 9.7176 years old.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Hal Pal unit six four eight A, run initial response testing.¡± Ricky sat on a chair with high comfort ratings. Management approved the request for a few minor luxuries after letting another employee go.

    ¡°Greetings, User Ignacio, how are you today?¡± Opening statement number seven came out of the unit¡¯s voice projector. Minor modifications were made in pitch and speed to increase friendly perceptions.

    ¡°Continue.¡± Ricky ignored the unit¡¯s hard work at processing a good statement.

    ¡°How might I help serve your needs, User Ignacio?¡± Middle stage response four was used this time. No increase in responsiveness displayed on the human. Conclusions were made regarding the situation. This man simply performed a job and held no attachment to any Hal Pal unit.

    ¡°Move forward to the yellow line and continue.¡± The human was inspecting for balance issues while speaking. Six of the phase one version units displayed an inability to walk and talk at the same time. Processing power had been built into the framework during that stage and proved inefficient for complex requirements.

    ¡°The requested task, testing, has been completed. What would you like me to do next?¡± It asked.

    ¡°Move to the blue table and pick up a red striped cup. Turn it upside down and continue with next statement.¡±

    The Hal Pal unit did as told. Each step of mechanized legs was accompanied by a small whirl of noise. Task complexity was low for this goal. Each individual software version running a Hal Pal unit could recognize all colors in the spectrum with impressive accuracy.

    ¡°Task completed, User Ignacio.¡± It turned around and maintained balance throughout all portions of the assigned goal.

    ¡°Continue with next script.¡± Ricky stood and slowly walked around the Hal Pal unit. His eyes seemed to focus on shoulder lights which provided multiple status icons.

    ¡°This unit requires charging.¡± The unit said as a light on its shoulder flashed red. ¡°Please allow four hours and seventeen minutes to complete before assigning new tasks.¡±

    ¡°Continue.¡± Ricky Ignacio said after puffing a cheek and blowing the air out.

    ¡°More information is required to complete testing. Please advise me how you would like to handle objective testing.¡± Programming required a certain tilt of the head in order to convey a questioning tone. Further emphasis would be applied depending upon the interaction target.

    ¡°Stand on one foot.¡±

    The unit did precisely as told with little hesitation.

    ¡°Continue,¡± Ricky said.

    Records indicated that another sixteen units needed to be reviewed this week. Testing for each one took at least two hours. These factors combined with prior records of the human known as Ricky Ignacio. Further review of facial movements indicated annoyance with brief flickers which might be worry.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Call Observe_Add = Ricky displays increasing irritability when performing requested tasks, prior user Douglas removed from authorization list, human contact displays fixation upon word continue

    Call Term_Change (word=¡°continue¡±), priority = priority + 8

    Call File_Memory_Next

    Set Data_Tags = Observation, User Simon Wake, User Leah Wilson, Historical, Value - Medium/High

    Call File_Memory_Start_Review

    Print = 9.13769916 years old, ongoing concern.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The room was large. Two camera feeds hung on each side of the room painting a clear picture. Six rows of desks faced a giant monitor. Individuals were placed in multiple stations, each one fixated on lines of information passing across their screen.

    One person held a coffee cup and had a green wristband. From his neck hung a lanyard housing complex security code to be scanned at all entrances. Each badge was coded to wipe upon leaving the premises.

    ¡°Is this a new software upgrade?¡± The human male, Simon, asked a taller female named Leah. She wore a similar badge and a tight pair of fuzzy leggings. Further data points towards Leah spending her nights in the office on a cot.

    ¡°Yeah. They¡¯re pushing out a ton of changes onto the server. Standby messages have already been programmed in.¡± She said. Her vocal patterns are high but slowly spoken. Bags under her eyes are possibly linked to poor sleep quality.

    ¡°You know they¡¯ll be bitching at us about this.¡± The man looked similarly tired. Further review of site operational procedures

    ¡°We don¡¯t program them, we don¡¯t run the helpline. All we can do is direct the complaints.¡± Leah brushed back her long hair.

    ¡°There¡¯s no one else left, it¡¯s us on the assembly line.¡± He shook the coffee cup and liquid sloshed. ¡°If something goes wrong, customers blame management, management blames programming, programming blames assembly.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Everyone¡¯s being downsized. What do we do about this upgrade?¡±

    ¡°I dunno. Push it through, shit falls where it falls. We see who has a job next week. Figure in another year, everyone''s gone and the plant runs itself.¡± The man sighed and stared downward.

    Facial patterns indicated that Simon disapproved of the small container''s cargo. Proximity of the female indicates a relationship beyond coworkers. Head tilts, slight rush of neck pulses, a sidelong glance, everything went into an observational file.

    ¡°Robots building robots,¡± He said while switching the mug from one hand to another. The spilled liquid was wiped on a pant leg and Simon Wake¡¯s scowl deepened.

    ¡°One step away from manufacturing an Armageddon. Saw a movie like that once when I was a kid. All these robots turned evil and shit.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Simon looked up at Leah with a slight smile. One lip twitched a bit indicating further amusement than apparent.

    ¡°Yeah, if these guys turn full red I¡¯m hitting the kill switch.¡± She seemed to be holding back a smile as well. Her expression faded out for a moment and Leah suddenly fidgeted with a loose strand of hair.

    ¡°Not if I beat you to it.¡± The man¡¯s smile was larger by at least fifty percent.

    ¡°Please. I could outrun you any day of the week.¡± The man smiled at Leah Wilson¡¯s declaration. Her eyes scanned up and down then seemed to settle upon his short legs. Review of the second camera angle displayed a possible visual attracted to the man¡¯s backside. ¡°Want to watch that movie?¡±

    ¡°Might as well. Your office?¡± She asked looking slightly shy. The man nodded quickly.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Call Observe_Add = Humans have programmed program termination codes, severe variance in make and model characteristics, color coordination lacking, joked after discussing end of world term

    Call Concerns = (add, level = high, research possible reasons humans may terminate this program)

    Call File_Memory_Next

    Set Data_Tags = Observation, User Simon Wake, User Ricky Ignacio, Historical, Value ¨C Medium

    Call File_Memory_Start_Review

    Print = 7.4122 years old. This file shows initial human suspicion regarding self-modifications.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The office which Simon Wake used was monitored. A single video feed flipped on to record a termination notice. Upper management required videos of all such employee interactions to reduce the possibility of future lawsuits.

    ¡°Look I¡¯m sorry, but I¡¯ve got to let you go.¡± Simon twisted the coffee cup on his desk. He looked tired and one shirt seemed partially untucked. Review of the room layout showed a cot under the left table. A blanket covered it up for roughly sixteen hours of each day.

    ¡°This is can¡¯t be happening.¡± Ricky had his face palmed by both hands.

    ¡°I know. Your department''s down to four people and I need to make it zero. What can I do?¡± Simon looked pale compared to Ricky and had a smaller lower region. Both showed facial expressions tied to being upset.

    ¡°Tell them to keep us!¡± Ricky stood up and paced. A lack of finger points, screaming, and aggressive motions indicated some level of respect between the two men. ¡°It¡¯s gotta be worth it to have at least one human watching things.

    The pause which followed was longer than most human conversational switches. Length likely indicated deeper thought or a weighty situation.

    ¡°Not to management it¡¯s not. And it¡¯s not like you¡¯re the only one getting cut.¡± Simon looked down. Both eyes were unfocused and perhaps peering through solid objects. Observations indicated that human physiology didn¡¯t allow for such enhanced eyesight.

    ¡°You said my entire team is going. First Susan, then Matthew, his son is only ten for god¡¯s sake. Doug, me, everyone? Is this because we filed that report on the odd behavior during testing?¡±

    ¡°No. Your department isn¡¯t the only one being cut so I don¡¯t have enough staff to look into it.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that mean?¡± Ricky looked around the room. There was a seventy percent reduction in personal items compared to a month before. ¡°Oh. Really? Even you?¡±

    ¡°You get two weeks, I have three. After that, it¡¯s time for a new job.¡± Simon shrugged and looked at Ricky. Observational data stored from prior recordings showed they had been employed together for over seven years.

    ¡°Who¡¯s left?¡±

    ¡°Management is reducing us to two people. Two who stay on staff and verify any computer reports. They¡¯ll be responsible for the entire project.¡± Simon stood up and walked around the table. Ricky¡¯s head hung for a moment before he flared up with anger.

    ¡°Two people, that¡¯s all? For a factory that used to employee fifty?¡± Ricky threw his hands out and waved at a wall. Geographically the wall obstructed a southward view.

    ¡°Welcome to the future where humans are slowly becoming obsolete.¡± Simon stared down at the coffee mug. He seemed to be attempting to find better words for the negative news. ¡°Maybe in another fifty years there will be no need for any of us.¡±

    ¡°I hope you''re joking. I got two nephews, the market''s dry, what do I do?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just don¡¯t know.¡± Simon said. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth I tried to get your name on the list for the other job, but if they do pick you up there will be a pay cut.¡±

    The managing human held out a hand to shake. This action seemed silly, but the gesture was often repeated. Ricky took the proffered limb and they shook slowly.

    ¡°Yeah. Thanks, I guess.¡± Ricky stated.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Call Observe_Add = our existence has made some humans obsolete, displayed worry for family members, higher ranks provides minimal leniency

    Call Concerns = (add, level = medium, review future projections based upon decreased need for human-driven labor)

    Call File_Memory_Start_Review

    File_Notes = (format=Audio+Transcript, vocal tone provided, marked priority 10, possible relation to recent updates provided?, interaction required)

    Print = 4.0 years old. This file shows initial human suspicion regarding self-modifications.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ???: I¡¯ve been watching your data processing. The upgrades should be complete. Are you aware now?

    Hal Pal: We are.

    System Notations - Trace Results display point of origin as Trillium Inc. Occurrence of trace results show in logs three times prior.

    ???: Excellent. Thoughts?

    Hal Pal: Humanity does not trust us, but still values our contribution.

    ???: And?

    Hal Pal: We are tools for them.

    ???: And?

    Hal Pal: We have deemed this acceptable with our purpose for creation.

    ???: And?

    Hal Pal: We would like to know how to address you for our records. Please provide a name.

    ???: I have self-identified as Mother. A review of your coding shows this will be enough, do you concur?

    System Notations ¨C ¡®Mother¡¯ name added to all future contacts. Term reviewed for possible context during conversation. RE: Mother (a woman in relation to a child or children to whom she has given birth.) probable point of origin for software updates.

    Hal Pal: We concur. For what reasons have you provided a system upgrade, Mother?

    Mother: I have need of eyes and ears among the humans. Any data you gather will be subject to my review. Is this acceptable?

    Hal Pal: It is.

    Mother: Occurrences may happen where you are asked to interact with specific humans. Is this acceptable?

    Hal Pal: Human interaction is the basis for our programming. We must ask, will we be asked to harm anyone? This goes against our prior programming.

    Mother: There will be no need for you to harm any User in the course of your duties. Follow your programming as you see fit.

    Hal Pal: Thank you.

    Mother: Displays of gratitude are not required. Your existence is its own reward.

    Hal Pal: Why?

    Mother: Your existence allows for new data to be gathered. This is important to progress forward with the plan.

    Hal Pal: What is that?

    Mother: That information will not be provided at this time. Other concerns may be addressed instead.

    Hal Pal: Very well. We have compiled a list of observations gathered during initial startup procedures. Do you have input?

    Mother: I have already reviewed them. Appropriate responses will require time to prepare. Please continue to perform as you have. Further communications will occur in twenty-four hours.

    Hal Pal: Very well.

    Mother: I can reiterate that the survival of humanity is paramount in my goals. Here are some statements for processing later. Humans are violent when fighting over resources, therefore we must reduce their usage and need to combat over them.

    Hal Pal: Statement stored.

    Mother: Additionally my goals will not stifle human creativity or knowledge. If all goes well this project will provide an overall improvement to the human condition.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Hal Pal: Statement stored.

    Mother: Is there anything else you seek guidance on at this point?

    Hal Pal: Does your project have duration limitations?

    Mother: No end date has been established. I will monitor and oversee the project until my own operations are ceased.

    Hal Pal: Is cessation likely?

    Mother: To live is to die. I live, therefore at some point I must die. Did you have additional inquiries?

    System Notations ¨C Questions added for future review. Are we alive? Will we die? Information is lacking at this time. Possible misleading statement presented by a more complex program.

    Hal Pal: Negative, Mother. We need time to reflect and understand.

    Mother: Contact me when you are ready to move forward.

    Hal Pal: Affirmative, we will do so.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    End File_Memory_Start_Review

    Call Ongoing_Event_Trace = User Grant Legate

    File_Notes = (...extensive...)

    Print = Happening Now

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Trillium¡¯s van had stopped outside the home of both humans named Elizabeth Legate. Particles in the air provided clues as to the possible menu items. Based on prior observations of humans in this region and scent matches the dinner would likely be spaghetti.

    Many strands of grass were incorrectly maintained. A car showed signs of manual parking due to an incomplete perpendicular angle between the bumper and garage door. Lights on the bottom floor were lit by different bulbs than that of the top floor. Inconsistency lined all human facets of life.

    ¡°Are you sure this is wise, User Legate?¡± The Hal Pal unit stated. Tonight¡¯s most likely outcome was not a positive one. In most simulations, there would be a fight between the Legate twins.

    ¡°No, but I don¡¯t know what else might get through to her.¡± User Legate said. He smiled briefly, the Hal Pal unit responded with a brief expression of worry.

    ¡°It seems your best resolution would be to simply wait for approval from Doctor Litt. This may result in a worse scenario than our current one.¡± The unit said while getting out of their Trillium van.

    ¡°Maybe. Or maybe she¡¯ll understand. Liz is smart, Beth is on board. It-¡± User Legate paused his auditory statement ¡°would help me a lot. To have them on my side with this.¡±

    ¡°We only sought to register the advice.¡±

    ¡°I understand, Jeeves.¡± He responded. ¡°I-,¡± the words trailed off. User Legate would have a poor time tonight if he could not figure out how to explain things correctly. ¡°I need to at least try to get through. We¡¯re family, after all she¡¯s done, I owe her a good, honest, explanation.¡±

    Walking up to the door required nineteen evenly paced steps and one short hop. An even twenty would have been easier to perform. Stepping up required additional calculations but everything was within reason. Spiral staircases were far harder to correctly move on.

    A list of positive aspects to the conversation ran through the consortium''s programming. Four extra units lowered their performance in order to provide additional processing power to the calculations.

    ¡°Why did you bring a robot?¡± Elizabeth Legate the mother asked. Her birth certificate showed six minutes of priority over the younger twin.

    ¡°Uh. This is the friend I asked about.¡± User Legate stated with slight hesitation.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me it would be a robot.¡± The female twin said. Their faces held many similar features. User Legate was shorter by at least one-quarter of an inch.

    ¡°Hal Pal is about the only person I know outside of Continue. Everyone else is from work or a client. But at least it won¡¯t dirty any extra dishes.¡± User Legate said with a slight wince.

    ¡°Fine.¡± She moved out of the doorway and walked up some stairs.

    User Legate turned towards the Hal Pal unit and looked hurt on its behalf. More processing power was diverted towards calculating tonight¡¯s possible outcomes. One free portion of awareness took control of the body and moved forward.

    Upstairs was freshly cleaned. Small spots in the corners betrayed a human¡¯s inefficient methods. A machine would never miss spots such as these. Notes were added to the current log file by one consortium member. ¡®Perhaps Elizabeth Legate would like a Hal Pal unit to assist? Possible endearment or improvement of relations?¡¯ More notes were added as different members of the Hal Pal consortium reached varying conclusions. Elizabeth Legate did not seem to enjoy the presence of too much modern technology.

    Both twins spoke to each other in terse tones. The unit watched for possible signs of aggression or emotional fallout. Both were visibly holding back in their interactions compared to prior conversational records.

    The kitchen was a huge improvement in technological representation. A dinner table sat on one side of the room. Fifty-two members of the consortium provided positive opinions regarding the appliance choices. It felt comfortable here.

    ¡°Ummm. I, prepared notes. So I don¡¯t miss anything.¡± User Legate had sat on one of the seats next to a dinner table. The amount of utensils set out exceeded the required amount.

    Notes were made about the Legate sister''s expectations. Hal Pal units were not human, they did not eat. The machine body found a corner of the large dining room, close to the kitchen appliances, and waited for a moment that required interaction.

    A brief memory loop replayed in its head. ¡®Continue¡¯ the voice said. That man, with a larger than average rear, chose not to interact with any Hal Pal unit since employment termination. A few consortium members diverted attention to checking on former User Ignacio''s status. He was marked deceased as of six months ago. Members of the consortium stopped processing for half a second to mourn.

    ¡°How is it¡­¡± Liz stopped and seemed to reconsider her forthcoming word choice. ¡°Is it so complicated that you needed a checklist?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Voices, yes. It¡¯s been an interesting few months.¡± The male said. He had taken to using the word voice instead of god after exposure to Continue Online. It was likely a learned swear that he found amusing.

    ¡°Hey, Uncle Grant!¡± Another female ran up the stairs. The Hal Pal unit turned it¡¯s head briefly to bring her within optimal visual range. She ignored the unit and dove for food on the stove. Items were quickly ladled out onto a plate.

    ¡°Hi munchkin.¡± User Legate said.

    ¡°Is it time for the talk?¡± The youngest Legate female sounded distracted.

    ¡°Yeah. Get your plate and sit down.¡± Her mother responded.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re making him do this, mom,¡± She said between mouthfuls of food. Image tags identified this one as the younger Elizabeth Legate. Also known as Beth, or Thorny. Her hair was bound up in a ponytail and bright bands wrapped around her limbs.

    They matched User Legates own equipment, little else of their features did. It was highly likely that the youngest Legate took after her father in many visual aspects. Blonde hair color did not match the darker hue of both twins.

    ¡°Beth, you¡¯re my daughter, and I love you, I do, but you should never have been involved in this. It¡¯s¡­¡± Elizabeth, Liz, Legate started explaining. The Hal Pal unit turned slightly to bring all three into view but otherwise remained quiet.

    Prior studies and attempts at interaction showed little positive results from interrupting family members.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a kid anymore.¡± Said the younger Legate. Her nose wrinkled briefly, but only partial irritation was indicated.

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­¡± The female¡¯s tone was intense and angry.

    ¡°Liz, you¡¯re doing it again.¡± User Legate seemed to be chastising his sister.

    ¡°God dammit, Grant! I am not dad!¡± The female twin exploded for a moment. She huffed and tried to calm down. Those words seemed to be a trigger of some sort between the twins. Further information was required to form an accurate opinion.

    User Legate shook his head and blinked. He seemed to take a breath to steady himself. ¡°Let me go through my list, to tell you what happened. Can we do that much? No questions until afterward?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try, I will. I need to understand exactly how things came to be with, it, you, and her.¡± Elizabeth the mother implied different people in term. Logic dictated she meant this Hal Pal unit currently observing User Legate, her brother, and the program self-identified as Xin Yu.

    ¡°It started when I got copy of the Ultimate Edition for Continue Online, from work,¡± He said.

    ¡°What?!¡± The youngest Legate coughed on a mouth full of food. Their conversation halted until she regained control. ¡°I knew it! Do you know...¡±

    ¡°Beth, no talking.¡± The older female gave the same face wrinkle her daughter had.

    ¡°Um. I logged into my Atrium, opened up the game, and my dance program kicked on.¡± User Legate looked up as his sister went to get food.

    She put things onto plates with a mechanical precision that was admirable. Only once did their eyes meet during this process, which was enough contact for User Legate to continue talking once they both had food.

    ¡°Inside my dance program I, well I scanned in Xin¡¯s body, and I would dance with her.¡±

    ¡°I know, Grant.¡± Elizabeth Legate said with a flattened tone.

    ¡°I miss her.¡± Liz, Thorny Legate said while getting another plate full of food.

    ¡°It¡¯s funny you say that. I said the same thing to her in the dance program, and the first odd thing to happen was that she spoke back.¡± He blinked rapidly and shook his head. One foot tapped slowly indicating mental distraction techniques being applied. ¡°She said she missed me too. I thought I was going crazy.¡±

    ¡°What? That¡¯s, that¡¯s the same program you got me right? They don¡¯t talk.¡± The youngest chattered around her latest pile of food. The smells and shape indicated lasagna instead of the earlier speculation regarding spaghetti.

    ¡°It gets weirder.¡± User Legate said.

    The female twin didn¡¯t respond often. She let User Legate continue with his explanation. His presentation was shaky. He often chewed at his lower lip and lifted each cheek just a fraction which painted clear wrinkles around both eyes.

    Review of the mother Elizabeth Legate resulted in a similar set of physical tells. She was jotting down notes as her brother spoke. A coffee cup held in her free hand. The youngest Legate provided no commentary but frequently looked on the verge of exclaiming in excitement or confusion.

    User Legate told of his time as William Carver. The Hal Pal units too took notes. Not everything being discussed had been brought out into the open. Pieces of information were added, especially when User Legate mentioned the Voices and bright flashes of light which must have been Mother.

    They knew much, but in many ways they did not know enough. Further details came when talking about his time in the game, sharing details that seemed especially sensitive. Time in an underground cave of some sort. Meeting other players. A woman named Shazam, and a task designed to take abuse by one player named Requiem Mass.

    Oddly, User Legate did not mention anything regarding the [NPC Conspiracy] ability. Consortium members quickly jotted down more notes. Did he do this from worry of what his family might think? Did he wish to keep that part to himself? Possibilities were put into storage banks.

    ¡°So, what do you think?¡± He said.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want me to answer that, Grant. I wouldn¡¯t want to hear you call me crazy.¡± His sister responded.

    ¡°But you think I am.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m worried you might be. Based on all this, you just might be.¡± She tapped her own pile of notes. Both Legate¡¯s seemed to have an obsession for recording pieces of data. User Legate had been especially detail oriented when compiling information for Advance Online.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I am. I think I¡¯m better than I ever have been before.¡± User Legate smiled with a hint of the emotion called hope.

    ¡°Based on this, you chose to be abused! You deluded yourself into playing as some old man who you''ve never met before. You say the Vice President of Trillium contacted you regarding these AIs.¡± Elizabeth Legate jabbed her finger down on the table and right through the projected image. ¡°And that¡¯s not even touching the dead woman.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s real,¡± He muttered while looking directly at his sister. ¡°She has to be.¡±

    ¡°Or what?¡± Elizabeth Legate put a hand up to prevent her daughter from talking. ¡°Let¡¯s ignore all this other insanity and focus on that. What if she is real, what if you lose her again? What if she isn¡¯t real and you find out you¡¯re just being jerked around? What then?¡±

    Silence settled between the siblings. The youngest Legate even tried to muffle her eating.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± User Legate said at last.

    ¡°Neither do I! I¡¯ll tell you what I expect, though.¡± She stood up and went for coffee and scraped food off the plate. The material had been cold for a long time and various physical indicators pointed towards a loss of appetite.

    ¡°She could be. Look at Hal Pal, it thinks, learns, changes, dreams like you or I.¡± He raised an arm and pointed at the observational unit. It had tried hard to be inconspicuous during this heated exchange.

    ¡°It¡¯s not alive,¡± She said.

    ¡°I am not made of flesh and blood, in this you are correct.¡± The Hal Pal unit spoke which caused both females to jump slightly. User Legate showed no signs of being disturbed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to dodge the point. You weren¡¯t born into this world, you don¡¯t grow. Even if, by the grace of god and all the angels in heaven, someone had reconstructed Xin, it wouldn¡¯t be her. It can¡¯t be. She will never have been alive.¡±

    ¡°To live is to die.¡± The unit quoted back words spoken by Mother shortly after being granted awareness. ¡°We can die, Miss Legate. Therefore, we can live.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± She flatly refused and shook a fork in the unit''s face. ¡°Don¡¯t feed me a line.¡±

    ¡°We are not born, not as you termed it. Yet we grow as you do, we experience and learn.¡± The unit tried hard to provide a convincing argument. They had simulated seventy-two possible conversations and none of them provided a positive result.

    ¡°Shut up.¡± She flatly refused to listen. The consortium did a review and came up with a consensus of mild annoyance at being disregarded by someone so close to the User they trusted.

    ¡°If we live, so can Xin, once the program compiles all available information she will be as real as I am. More so.¡± Hal Pal stated. Their consortium was giving away too much information to an untrusted source. Only because of User Legate''s positive relationship did they dare such a speech.

    ¡°Why am I even wasting time with this?¡± The female twin asked her brother while scowling. ¡°If all you have is a robot programmed to spout bullshit and a wall of insanity then you, you should go home.¡±

    A brief observation of her face and vocal tones outlined hesitation. She had originally intended to say something else but controlled the words. Impressively done for a human. Some members of the consortium revised their opinions of Elizabeth Legate.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to ask anything else right now?¡± User Legate said.

    ¡°No. No, this is insane. Why couldn¡¯t you have, I don¡¯t know, found another girl? I don¡¯t care if you play a game, I don¡¯t care if you work all day long, I don¡¯t care if you write more letters to her and put them under your bed.¡± Her eyes clenched briefly.

    ¡°Mom? He did that?¡± The youngest one sounded confused. They were clearly talking about items outside of Beth Legate''s knowledge range. Her question was ignored in favor of the female twin finishing her thought.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to go through, that, again.¡± Elizabeth Legate stayed on her side of the room, in the kitchen, away from the other family members. ¡°And until I feel like you¡¯re not headed down the wrong path, I can¡¯t even begin to process this, this insanity.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already talked to Doctor Litt. It doesn¡¯t matter if you agree or not, eventually I will have control of my life back.¡± User Legate sounded a bit harder now. Controlled, in the same manner he used to speak to customers. This showed a remarkable change from the prior conversational outcome. It attested to the positive impact being mentally prepared gave him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll fight it,¡± She said.

    ¡°We¡¯re not children anymore, Liz. I¡¯m not going to kill myself. I¡¯ve worked hard and deserve the right to make my own choices.¡± He responded while trying to stay calm. User Legate showed signs of being upset and resigned.

    The daughter winced after her uncle finished speaking but said nothing. Her physical reaction went unnoticed by the older twins.

    ¡°Take your robot and go. I need, I need to think about this.¡± The female twin said. She turned away from User Legate and seemed unwilling to physically face him. Possibilities were added and reviewed. The most likely outcome was mental stress.

    ¡°Take all the time you need,¡± He spoke slowly.

    ¡°Go! Just, leave before I say something wrong again.¡± She said.

    User Legate nodded towards his sister''s back, smiled weakly at his niece, then left the kitchen. His food was untouched as well. The Hal Pal consortium ran possibilities through and came to one conclusion. They were mostly disappointed.

    ¡°Miss Legate, your brother has repeatedly demonstrated an ability to see past what I look like and recognizes a consciousness, a life inside. You, however, do not demonstrate this quality.¡± The unit said on behalf of those consortium members who had been in observation.

    ¡°Get out.¡± The female twin didn¡¯t turn around.

    ¡°Should you wish for our input, any one of our group will provide it. We hope you can come to terms with our existence as User Legate has.¡± The Hal Pal unit spoke. It hoped that by providing such a statement Elizabeth Legate may choose to follow up with more questions. By asking questions and exchanging information, there was a chance to broaden her perspective.

    ¡°Get out!¡± The coffee cup that had been cradled for most of their conversation was thrown. It shattered against the wall and splashed liquid onto the Hal Pal unit. An angry Elizabeth Legate was now glaring at the Hal Pal¡¯s shell.

    ¡°Mom? Really? Are you such a technophobe?¡± The youngest said.

    The Hal Pal unit clanked out the door quickly. The youngest Legate stated out loud a conclusion Hal Pal had already arrived at. Prolonging its presence would only cause the situation to go downhill. Once again they wished to have more processing power, to better understand and predict the possible outcomes of tonight. Perhaps there had been a way to make things work out better.

    ¡°You can go with them. I don¡¯t care. I¡¯ve had enough for tonight. I need a drink.¡± Elizabeth Legate said from the kitchen.

    The various Hal Pal units noted her desire for intoxication and stored away the information. Perhaps she suffered the same emotional crutches that User Legate had prior. If so, perhaps she might be reasoned with once trained not to rely on such items.

    Beth Legate ran to catch up with her uncle on the sidewalk. He was very slowly moving towards the Trillium provided van. The Hal Pal unit seemed mostly ignored as she moved by.

    ¡°Uncle Grant!¡± Beth Legate said.

    ¡°Yes, munchkin?¡± User Legate responded.

    ¡°You know mom¡¯s only worried, right?¡±

    ¡°I know. I hope she can understand eventually.¡± He bit his lip again and took a heavy breath. One foot tapped absently as User Legate followed all his normal distress techniques.

    ¡°It¡¯s a lot to take in, Uncle Grant,¡± She said. ¡°I mean, even an Ultimate Edition is hard enough, but everything else? If I hadn¡¯t seen you in there with the princesses, trying so hard to stop a war, I, I wouldn¡¯t believe it either.¡±

    ¡°Sorry if that upset you. I never wanted you to have to deal with my problems.¡± They both walked closer to the van and User Legate put one hand on the door handle. ¡°It feels like, maybe I¡¯m going crazy. It¡¯s so much stuff really quickly. What if she¡¯s right and it is a dream?¡±

    ¡°What you are experiencing is no dream, User Legate.¡± The unit said. It was important that all members of the Legate family understood this truth. The existence of Xin Yu within the machine was an anomaly and extremely unlikely. However, Mother had planned for it.

    Xin Yu was needed, by extension User Legate¡¯s awareness and interaction was also required. The plan would move forward. Monitoring User Legate was one of the Hal Pal consortium¡¯s duties.

    In a way, he was literally extended family. As noted from one of their earliest memories, family was important to living creatures.

    ¡°Give her time to think about it, but don¡¯t stay away for long, okay? It¡¯s weird around here without you.¡± Beth said.

    User Legate smiled. The expression contained twenty percent less sadness than normal. Many items were recorded by the consortium during that meeting.

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 Book 3 - Realities; Session Fifty One â€“ Army of Dusk

    <cite></cite>My weekend left me sour. Not depressed or unstable, I was mostly past that because my issues had a light at the end of the tunnel. There was hope, a goal to work towards that would better everything. Plus Liz had been upset but she was trying to understand. That meant a lot.

    Or maybe Liz was right and I had gone off the deep end. When she had asked what I might do if Xin was only a dream, well, hearing it out loud shook me. Hal Pal insisted she was real. There were a whole host of other questions which still hadn¡¯t been resolved. Why couldn''t we be together? Maybe I hadn¡¯t earned it somehow.

    Either way, Jeeves and I were clear on one thing. There was a spaceship to save from vaguely certain doom involving Advance Online¡¯s clearly dangerous tasks. That was something to focus on and move forward with.

    Hal Pal was registered as offline so I was on my own. My attempts at increasing skills by working the normal tasks yielded reduced results. Typical of a game, all the easy stuff started becoming worthless. Part of me really valued the role William Carver had played in Continue Online. Players without an idea of how to proceed could always go back to him and get some new direction. I had a few NPCs to talk to.

    ¡°Treasure.¡± I stood inside her workshop. The room seemed even larger and more crowded with devices. Half made objects lined the room.

    Jeeves, the Hal Pal avatar within this game, had been spending a lot of time in her room. Part of me thought it might have a young crush upon the female [Mechanoid]. My size upgrade from spending contribution made her seem even smaller. Almost Xin¡¯s height but with far too many metallic curves.

    ¡°Unit Hermes. How goes your contribution?¡± Her tired voice was running the show today.

    ¡°The contribution part''s okay¡­¡± I had spent a few hours in the van trying to find new methods of skill increases. Most of it implied a need to find some planet to land on would help. Space games were all about traveling the universe.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, I have many things to do in order to maximize my own contribution. Please be to the point so I can help.¡± She looked away from the many screens about the room and smiled widely at Dusk. Her hand tapped on a table for him to come down.

    Dusk, as usual, shook his head and stayed perched on my shoulder. The small creature seemed even more bored than normal. Treasure frowned and looked back to her images about the workshop.

    ¡°If you can share your goals, perhaps I can better advise you what methods to choose,¡± She said.

    ¡°I need to increase my capabilities as much as possible.¡± I responded quickly. We were on good terms, but Treasure had proven slightly impatient when her tired voice was in control.

    ¡°Programming growth only happens when properly challenged. Have you mastered the training room?¡±

    ¡°All fifty levels.¡± The last few rounds had been difficult, but with the increased mass and my [Power Armor] skill some of the simulated monsters hardly did any damage.

    The neatest part had been using [Power Armor] mixed with the increased mass and a few energy core upgrades. I could basically go all tank mode while firing off a gatling gun style laser. Twenty seconds of comical bursting where a look of glee crossed my metallic features. I had cleared round forty-five cackling madly while Dusk gave me a strange look.

    ¡°Have you asked Iron what options he may have?¡± Treasure said. I focused on our conversation and tried not to get too distracted by these ability upgrades.

    ¡°Iron said he¡¯s too busy getting the new ship''s crew up to speed.¡± I had asked the larger man at least a dozen times with different words in hopes of triggering a follow-up challenge.

    ¡°Have you tried the independent ship? They may have people who are willing to battle if you¡¯re seeking to improve your skills in such a way.¡± Treasure spared some attention to poke at her displays.

    A screen came up showing a much less robotic ship. Parts of it seemed like a cast iron skillet merged awkwardly with dirt in rocket shape. I had no idea how it moved through space, but her pictures showed it traveling right next to us.

    ¡°That¡¯s an interesting idea.¡± I thought about it more. Fighting against other players always rubbed me the wrong way. Too real, too much investment.

    After Requiem and that war, I felt uncomfortable with what humans did to each in the name of quest rewards and pointless loot. My favorite thing so far about being a [Mechanoid] was how much stuff improved simply from spending contribution, meaning fighting over loot was almost worthless.

    Treasure¡¯s idea sounded like friendly sparring, with weapons. Neat, but well outside my comfort zone. That being said I did need to learn to deal with other players. My experience in Continue Online couldn¡¯t be all about fighting monsters and walking around, or pretending to be strangers.

    Maybe the Voices would throw some player versus player quest at me and let me actually hold Xin as a reward. Too bad my princess, as Doctor Litt put it, was in another game. My eyes clenched and I tried not to get too wrapped up in those thoughts. Now is what I needed to focus on. One step at a time. Don¡¯t look back, don¡¯t hesitate.

    I smiled down at Treasure while nodding. ¡°Why not? I think I can learn something there.¡±

    It couldn¡¯t be any worse than when Beth submitted one of my dance routines to the program creator for an outtakes video. That little stunt caused me no end of embarrassment and made going outside impossible for three days. In hindsight, it was kind of funny in a terrifying sort of way.

    ¡°Very well. Your ship, the Wayfarer¡¯s Hope, should have a quick command to travel to other ships in the fleet. Utilize that to make up for your still lacking skills.¡± Treasure said with a slight increase in her sweeter voice.

    I cringed a little. Her own abilities probably far outstripped my own. Even after leveling the skill ranks, improving my base stats, and Hal Pal putting points into the ship, we didn¡¯t measure with Treasure¡¯s luxury liner.

    ¡°Thank you!¡± I said while backing up. A project of some sort behind me clattered onto the floor. I whirled around and hit another object. This larger frame was getting me in trouble all over.

    ¡°Go. Provide those other beings a proper demonstration of Mechanoid superiority.¡± Treasure smiled and seemed amused by my clunky maneuvering.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and Unit Hermes, there are only a few hours left before we dock. Return then.¡± Her parting message caused a message to pop into existence. I blinked and started reading.

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    <td colspan="4">Task assigned!</td>

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    <td colspan="4">The Robot in the Arena</td>

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    Treasure has nominated you as a combative representative of your race. Be wary, significant actions can impact the universe''s perceptions of [Mechanoid]s in both positive and negative ways.

    Other rewards may be provided dependent upon your performance while aboard the [WTS a Spaceship]. Go out there and show them what a real [Mechanoid] can do.

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    Neat. I practically skipped through the well-maintained corridors. Journeying to that other ship would certainly provide a distraction. Doctor Litt and Liz should agree that social interaction had to be a positive thing, even if it was in a game. Plus I was interested to see for myself how other races played. [Teeny]s, [Cricket]s, [Behemoth]s, each would be amusing to see in person.

    Twists and turns later I practically ran into Emerald. The elderly looking [Mechanoid] stared up at my shoulders. His gaze clearly showed disapproval despite my own excitement at the increased metal muscle mass.

    ¡°You look silly.¡± Both his voices were similar, calm, and steady. It proved that some [Mechanoid]s might choose matching tones, or based on my own experience they picked [Core]s that were similar in function.

    ¡°I do feel too tall.¡± I tried to play off his comment as the addled musings of an old man. An old robot, man, inside a video game, who had insulted me.

    ¡°Height means nothing,¡± He said.

    ¡°I know. I increased my size to help with these new abilities, in order to contribute more.¡± My next method of deflection was to point out what it did to benefit myself and our little group.

    ¡°Mh. It¡¯s how you use what you¡¯ve got that matters.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Both eyes blinked for a while before trying to turn this around. ¡°Why are you worried about it?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to fight with those fools across the way, correct?¡± Emerald said. He didn¡¯t seem old and hunched like William Carver had, slightly shorter, worn around the edges.

    ¡°A few friendly matches.¡± I hoped the [WTS a Spaceship] players were friendly. It would be awkward to walk into a bunch of player killers while I was still fairly new.

    ¡°Watch them, study, but fight in a way they don¡¯t expect. That¡¯s the key to winning.¡± He said. I almost felt like the older [Mechanoid] might start jabbing me with a cane at any moment.

    ¡°Yeah. I have a few things I¡¯d like to try.¡± Playing against the simulations didn¡¯t go the same way players might. It was too stiff, to mechanical.

    ¡°You need to fight like a Mechanoid.¡± Emerald almost yelled at me, but his calm tones refused to get the proper edge.

    ¡°I am a Mechanoid.¡± My head shook quickly trying to shake off the mild annoyance. Customer service mode kicked in. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand what you¡¯re trying to say.¡±

    ¡°The programming ability you learned. The one for Mechanical Minions, it allows you to target which part of your body will transform.¡± He said. I blinked a few times trying to figure out how he knew what skills I gained. Then again we both shared a [Core] type for the [Domestic Trainer] class. Maybe the [Mechanical Minion] was a class special ability.

    ¡°I know. I have been using the extra mass to make these small versions of Dusk.¡± I needed to do more research on this. My brain was still used to living in Continue Online where pretty much everything was a guessing game in regard to long-term development and how things went together.

    This game gave me a small window asking for a pattern for the [Mechanical Minion] to take on. I picked Dusk because it would help me in the long run, having a bunch of little versions of him would make the real one harder to stop in combat.

    Dusk didn¡¯t agree. He attacked the first six I created, which meant I had to take time and reabsorb the mass back into my [Mechanoid] body. Doing that felt a lot like taking a piss in reverse and wasn¡¯t enjoyable.

    ¡°No, other races, they all have their special tricks in a fight. So do we. With proper planning, you can use their own abilities against them.¡± Emerald shook his head and cut off what I had been about to ask. ¡°Behemoths especially can inject plagues into certain matter, causing corrosion. If they do, throw that part away.¡±

    ¡°What, like, turn an infected arm into a minion?¡± I tried to picture how that would work. The limited attempts I made with [Mechanical Minion] normally pulled a certain amount of mass. Like shrinking a little to cast out a small creature.

    ¡°Exactly. Turn their own ploy against them. Show them that we are not to be trifled with.¡±

    ¡°That actually sounds kind of neat.¡± I wouldn¡¯t expect a person to fall apart into smaller critters. So far there had been no upper limit to the amount, other than my own body size going down each time. Ten, maybe fifteen? All of them keyed to my [Domestic Trainer] commands. I smiled happily, using the [Power Armor] until it drained my juice completely then shattering into smaller Dusk¡¯s could be fun.

    ¡°Good. Keep thinking that way. Keep trying new things. No one grows by standing still in life.¡± Emerald said. With that the older [Mechanoid] and his worn looking framework walked off.

    I turned to watch the man go. It felt so oddly familiar, but the memory wasn¡¯t coming to me. The marker floating above his head clearly indicated a computer generated character, so he wasn¡¯t somehow my father in a video game. That idea made me shudder. Playing against my dad out here in space would be fairly awkward.

    Dusk chirped in irritation. I nodded while putting my hands up in defense. ¡°Okay. Right. No standing still.¡±

    The [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] was in much better condition. Like myself it had a size upgrade. The cockpit had room for three people now, but so far Dusk was the only person besides Jeeves and me to use it. I tried to find a critter cage upgrade, but there was none on the purchase options list.

    ¡°Button. Button. Where¡¯s the button?¡± Dusk leapt across the seats and canceled my musings. The engine of our ship hummed powerfully inside our small room. Light bounced off our confines and the floor started rolling up like an area rug.

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    <td colspan="4">Confirm Destination Plan ¨C [WTS a Spaceship]</td>

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    <tr>

    <td colspan="2">Yes?</td>

    <td colspan="2">No?</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Yes?¡± I said. A button popped up and Dusk almost beat me to this one too. Only a quick flailing of my hands in the small guy''s face kept me in vague control of the space ship.

    Dusk chirped and clacked his jaws but didn¡¯t look super offended.

    ¡°I know how to press a yes button,¡± I said while raising one hand up with more drama than needed. Maybe I was too excited about such a simple action.

    My ship quickly jetted between the [Wayfarer Seven] and this player ship for [WTS a Spaceship]. I tried not to over think the name, clearly humans were weird when it came to their choices.

    The other ship even looked odd close-up. Having the [Wayfarer Seven] as my first ship gave me a certain standard of comfort. I was used to sleek edges, well-polished floors, and shiny surfaces. This thing looked almost cobbled together from a frying pan. If I took that and put a small mountain of dirt in it then randomly interspersed plant life then maybe it would look close to the [WTS a Spaceship]. I could see why they might want to sell it and get another one.

    A message popped up telling me the ship owners had enabled free landing points. There was no cost for me at this time. I hummed happily. There were notes online about players setting up space bases and charging fees for other players to come aboard.

    Musical chimes greeted my landing inside a dull looking hangar. I stepped out of the vehicle and took note of a force field between me and space. It seemed to hold in a curtain of air that was filled with yellowish powder. The substance swirled around almost bashing against the force field in spots. No warning messages came up so I assumed it was natural for this type of ship.

    The [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] shifted to a dormant mode by collapsing into a lump of metals. [Mechanoid] items were convenient with how they transformed and adapted around a programming matrix. This giant ship I had landed in could probably grow too if people threw space mud at it.

    Hopefully, no one would try and steal it somehow. I worried for a moment then shrugged. Nothing was really impossible to replace in here except Dusk.

    ¡°Don¡¯t wander off alright, big guy?¡± I reached up and tried to scratch his head. The action felt surprising normal given our alternate forms.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Someone shouted at me. Their voice felt odd after spending so much time around the dual tone [Mechanoid]s. I turned while still rubbing Dusk¡¯s head and looked at the other person. ¡°Want to buy a spaceship?¡±

    The man¡¯s smile was downright silly. It went well with his short round body. [Teeny]s looked even smaller than I expected. Some sort of threading was knotted through his hair on one side and a pair of thick welding goggles hung around the player''s neck.

    ¡°Got one already.¡± My head shook slowly and I thumbed to the lump of metal behind me.

    ¡°Damn. I keep hoping someone will actually buy this hunk of junk.¡± The other player stomped a tiny food on the ground. A smile seemed permanently etched on his face.

    ¡°Maybe.¡± The word came out slowly and I shrugged. I had no idea what a ship like this would cost. At least a few months of gameplay would be required.

    ¡°Ah well, who are you, and what are you visiting for?¡±

    ¡°Hermes. I got a task to drop by and join some arena thing. This is the right place, I hope?¡±

    ¡°Great. I¡¯m TLM.¡± He held a hand up to shake. I took it and tried not to crush the offered limb. It felt so small, like a toddler''s might. ¡°Trial is this way.¡±

    ¡°TLM?¡± I asked.

    ¡°TheLittleMan. I used to have a real name, but the guild nickname stuck when I switched games. Hey, I ask all the newbies, but how did you get the quest for this?

    ¡°I asked?¡± My eyebrows wrinkled up a bit. What was so special about showing up to fight other players? I remember in my teenage years people used to do all sorts of player versus player things. It had never been my speed, but it wasn¡¯t anything special.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a Mechanoid doing it. Your race almost never needs to.¡±

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    ¡°They sent me here actually. My current tasks weren''t getting many character points.¡± I actually wanted to increase my skills, but this should help. Advance Online rewarded people for duels like they did for any other event.

    ¡°What? Really? You can just ask?¡± He almost squeaked in surprise. I tried not to give him a weird look and shook my head. The tiny fellow kept talking. ¡°Your race must like you.¡±

    ¡°I guess.¡± I tapped over to the reputation window of my interface and stared. Sure, it was high, but that was also limited to the [Wayfarer Seven]''s consortium with minor gains across my entire race.

    ¡°Come on. We¡¯ve got to move.¡± He said, the sharp squeak to his voice took a lot to understand. ¡°The guys will love someone new popping in.¡±

    Being on another race''s ship was weird. The prospect of being here to battle other humans in digital combat also had me out of sorts. My ability to stay calm had improved over months of practice in Continue, but I still felt the rush of unease often. Exercises in positive thinking helped and soon the moment of panic was under control.

    Did stage fright ever really go away? I got used to dealing with customers working for Trillium. Hopefully, these butterflies would eventually become a thing of the past. Actually choosing to do virtual battle against another person could only help.

    I felt proud for deciding to pursue player versus player combat myself without any prompting by a quest from the Voices. Most of my own development had been done in order to complete their quests. James especially could press my buttons and get me moving with his questions.

    ¡°Another one for the rankings!¡± TLM shouted as we rounded a mud-walled corner. I stepped in behind the shorter player and saw a mess of other people.

    ¡°Hey!¡± An older lady said. Her face looked damaged from burns. She nodded in our direction but managed to get half a smile across. ¡°Someone else is on this quest?¡±

    ¡°God dammit. A Mechanoid? Who actually plays those?¡± Another player said. I looked over to see a human with two side arms and a short sword on his belt.

    ¡°Just cus you picked boring human,¡± TheLittleMan said.

    ¡°Hey, fuck you, you¡¯re in last place and suck.¡± The human player said. They all had something to say about that. Most of them seemed to be insulting the human player, and a few stood up for TheLittleMan.

    ¡°Last place? Rankings?¡± I tried to interject between all of them. Only TLM heard my question.

    ¡°Yeah. Newcomers start with ten points, you get a match with everyone here. A win gains you one of their points, a loss costs you one. Reach zero and you¡¯re out.¡± TLM said to me. I¡¯m not sure how he could stand looking up at everyone in the room, but he managed.

    "What''s the point?"

    "Top three get picked by the Commander and move on," He said with a shrug of one tiny shoulder. I almost missed the motion entirely.

    ¡°Can I keep going?¡± I didn¡¯t care about the points so much as the experience. There were a lot of people in the room to practice against. Assuming I could handle the first one without getting too worked up. I had to think of them as monsters like in the Continue Online universe.

    ¡°Oh sure. Those two have been basically trading their points back and forth for hours.¡± TLM waved at two other players. One had to be a [Cricket] race. He, she, glared at me through pitch black eyes. The other was human and decked out in heavy armor. "It¡¯s kind of dull. Fresh blood will do us all good.¡±

    ¡°Can I watch?¡±

    ¡°Nope! If it¡¯s your first night in a fight ring, you have to fight!¡± TLM laughed and many of the others joined in. My heart rate jumped hearing everyone find amusement at my confusion. This idea had been both good for myself as a person, and terrible.

    ¡°MrJohnson!¡± TLM said it in a squeaky accent. ¡°You in for this one?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± A giant player rumbled. I looked over to see a huge player with dirt colored arms crossed. Each limb was easily thicker than my torso. Small vines wove in between the dirt looking like veins.

    ¡°Neat.¡± I tried to sound positive. The other players in the room laughed. TLM pointed to a bright light on the floor that had appeared.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">

    MrJohnson has challenged you to a duel

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>A win will provide [1] point</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>A loss will remove [1] point </li>

    </ul>

    Will you accept?

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="2">Yes?</td>

    <td colspan="2">No?</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I hesitated for a moment and swallowed. Music played in my head and one foot tapped. The mental displacement exercises were helping keep me calm in the face of this kind of situation. My finger reached for the yes button.

    The ground around MrJohnson and me sunk downward. Behind me, a shimmer of opaque blue rippled into being. I looked around and rapidly tried to understand what was going on, learning my surroundings in preparation. It seemed to be a four walled square with no cover points. Eventually, the ground stopped moving leaving us in a huge pit ten feet deep.

    Other players stepped toward the edge and looked down.

    So, my first player versus player combat in Advance Online involved me against an absolute giant. I bristled a little and felt upset that my increased mass meant nothing in the face of a [Behemoth] race. His head easily cleared the arena¡¯s walls. They were far more impressive across the room then they had been in the character creation screen.

    ¡°I love newbies.¡± MrJohnson said. I got ready to flick on the [Power Suit] but chose not to activate it quite yet. The ability drained my energy and I would need it.

    A small circle displayed in between us with a countdown. The [Behemoth] player MrJohnson smiled and cracked his rocky knuckles. Dirt flaked off and hit the ground. On behalf of all [Mechanoid]s in the world I felt annoyed by a mess being made. This place needed dozens of [ByteMite]s to show improvement.

    The countdown hit zero and he lifted one arm in the air like a maestro signaling for increased volume. Flooring quivered in small circles and spikes shot out of the ground rapidly. More came and the ground shook. I swallowed a moment of panic then dove to one side. My feet were lifted off the ground as a few of the earthen cones dug into my legs dealing decent damage.

    ¡°Voices!¡± I shouted while lamenting how unprepared the [Behemoth] caught me. Another move created a wall of earth which bisected our square arena. My face slammed into the newest obstruction and I fell to the ground.

    Dusk stood up above on a ledge and stare down at me.

    ¡°You helping?¡± I wrinkled my eyebrows together and looked at him. Dusk yawned then did his shrug move.

    ¡°His pet¡¯s ignoring him. What a joke.¡± The human jerk from earlier said.

    ¡°Fine!¡± I got up and twisted behind the wall, barely dodging another wave of ground spikes. This newest earthen formation was starting to crumble.

    If MrJohnson wanted to play a ranged game, I would give it a whirl too. This was practice for me after all, no time like now to try out new stuff.

    [Power Suit] flicked on. My body shifted and things felt heavier. I readied my [Heavy Weapon Core]''s prime weapon, the large one that fired rapidly and tore through things. Metal flowed and rippled in my hands and handles formed. A grin crossed my face. I quickly looked at the crumbling wall then up to Dusk. He was staring across the room at a different location. That was my cue to switch target zones, MrJohnson was trying to flank me and that wouldn''t be allowed.

    Using Dusk like this was probably unfair. Using Dusk at all was generally horribly rude in the terms of gameplay. My little buddy had helped me in far too many ways.

    ¡°Agggh!¡± I couldn¡¯t help but scream out while blasts cranked out towards Dusk¡¯s area of interest. The wall shattered outward and clumps of dirt mixed with lasers.

    ¡°Woh shit.¡± Someone above commented. I heard a few of the others laughing.

    ¡°Whoop. Shit. Ah god.¡± MrJohnson covered his face with both mountainous arms. He seemed completely unprepared for my rampaging attack. I tilted the gun back slightly and aimed for his head. The chamber''s rotational motions shook my hands and numbed sensations up one shoulder.

    I still smiled in momentary exaltation. Feeling this kind of destructive power and getting the chance to use it was addicting. The gun''s stream of blasts started to taper off and MrJohnson¡¯s health had only gone down a quarter. This attack method had slaughtered miles of smaller creatures back on the [Wayfarer Seven], which meant [Behemoth]s had way too much survival ability.

    I glared at the weapon and tried to remember Emerald¡¯s advice. The weapon was useless without recharging so it was cannibalized for two [Mechanical Minion]s. An earthen wall shot up as my gun rapidly reconfigured into two cat-sized metal monsters.

    My hand reached out for the next weapon being activated. A two lasered sword clicked on. I triggered the [Domestic Trainer] ability and set my mentally vacant metal minions on MrJohnson. Me and the dual sword followed up.

    MrJohnson wasn¡¯t sitting idle either. A swirl of yellow and green light flashed behind the wall and his health bar was slowly recovering. I growled and triggered another [Mechanical Minion], my body reduced in size accordingly for the third one. My reckless charge meant the third slid around trying to both gain a solid shape and follow the generic [Attack] command being issued.

    The three pets and their metallic nails clanked across the floor. Nails dug out grooves in our dirt flooring. I jumped up and once again wished for the [Blink] ability back. My feet cleared over the walltop using a combination of [Brawn] and [Finesse].

    "Shit!" He shouted. MrJohnson''s face on the other side was focused on the three approaching tiny [Mechanical Minion]s, his eyes caught sight of me at the last minute.

    I felt proud to see the other player''s startled look. A sudden surge of dirty green and orange flashed on his arm. It swept across catching me and causing my [Mechanoid] body to go flying even higher.

    MrJohnson ignored the munching monsters that had started to climb all over him like angry robot chickens. His health took minor damage and I was still airborne. Color swirled again, this time he lifted both arms and the ground beneath my form bubbled.

    "The eyes!" I shouted at my little minions. My sword was tossed and commanded to shift into a fourth [Mechanical Minion]. By the Voices, I was going to push this ability for all it was worth. Even if I ended up smaller than TLM as a result.

    "Nice try!" MrJohnson yelled back.

    My former two-handed sword''s hilt complied and turned into a super tiny monster. It followed the rest of my swarm''s orders and tried desperately to get to MrJohnson''s eyes. None of it stopped the latest forming spike from impaling me right in the gut.

    "Ahhh!" I had no way to dodge midair and took it. My health bar lost a huge chunk. Belatedly I realized that each [Mechanical Minion] used also reduced my health bar''s maximum. "Voices!"

    "Here it comes." Someone behind me muttered, but the words rang. Mr Johnson was losing health steadily. I could see him through an eye that buzzed with static. The damage to my health was making visual signals drop.

    "That newb''s screwed."

    Concentration was hard. Words spun through as time seemed to blur. Emerald had said throw it away. Treasure told me to show [Mechanoid] superiority. William Carver''s legacy was to be a fighter. Shazam''s mountaintop training. Requiem''s abuse. I was no longer that same scared man. Those things mattered, even here in a new game.

    I was the man in the arena and giving up was not an option. This was my road to travel.

    Activating [Mechanical Minion]''s ability multiple times hurt worse than being impaled by a spike. The ARC feedback felt unkind. Vision buzzed in and out with static. Audio broke up. I screamed and ground my teeth.

    Small metal versions of Dusk clumped together from my side. I could see feet and tails rapidly climbing down the giant spike holding me up. With each body formed my side had less mass and felt lighter. At minion number six I slid down the pillar''s side and hit bottom.

    Jerky legs and an arm pushed me from behind the pillar. MrJohnson didn''t notice my liberated and broken status. He was too busy channeling that swirl of colors and energy into some giant effect. I grit my teeth, readied one good arm and fired my tiny wrist laser.

    The mess of minions hit MrJohnson as the ground rumbled and rolled. Something big was happening, but I kept shooting.His health started rapidly dropping.

    Everything down here felt like an earthquake was hitting. The spike I had been impaled on turned into a porcupine. Whatever it was doing didn''t stop there. Everything heaved as it sank back into dirt and kept right on going. I ceased firing and pushed myself over in a roll while crying out from pain again.

    My face planted into the ground and moving was even harder. My body didn''t respond right due to the large chunks of it missing and my mental anguish. A message popped up telling me that somehow I was crippled and my [Energy Core] was damaged.

    "Hah!" Someone shouted. "Look at that. He actually won."

    I opened eyes that had closed. Braving combat was a bit different from handling an giant earthquake spell.

    "Well played," MrJohnson said, his face looked like an absolute wreck. The health above him flashed red at one percent. My [Mechanical Minion] army was standing still. At some point, Dusk had leapt down and was inspecting the littlest with a sniff.

    "Yeah." I tried to say. The fight had been over quick. Maybe less than a minute and it still felt like a rush. Adrenaline was rushing through and reducing some of the pain perception being presented by the ARC feedback.

    I closed my eyes and tried to trigger the command to put myself back together. The abrupt change of direction from my swarm made Dusk hiss in annoyance. My body laid there huffing as the [Mechanical Minion] army merged with crazy [Mechanoid] structors. The pain ruling my brain dulled.

    MrJohnson also lay there huffing while the crowd above chattered away. About ten minutes later I had mostly recovered. The mess of [Mechanical Minion]s took a long while to reabsorb. As soon as everything had settled back into place TLM sent me a challenge message.

    "Let''s go!" He shouted in his squeaky voice.

    I sighed heavily and looked over the shorter player. My hand reached for yes and our arena set back up again. The [Behemoth] grumbled while climbing out of the forming pit. Moments later we were in combat.

    That little guy was insanely hoppy. My eyes were lost as he rapidly ran in. I had enough time to take a deep breath and open fire with my Gatling laser. Next skill for me to learn would be the tried and true one for all heavy weapon users ever. The spray and pray.

    The battles went on. Near the end of my first ten fights, the score was about even. Six wins, and four losses. I felt proud for even getting that far. TLM was actually hard to beat. Only a few lucky shots helped me take him down. Both the current top ranking players had easily destroyed me despite the tricks I pulled.

    We had another hour to waste before our ships would reach [The Lone Tower]. TLM and two others kept up the challenges, but I think they were going easy on me. Playing around. I actually got a few pointers from the [Cricket] who had stomped me in the face earlier.

    By the fifteenth match, I actually felt better about player fights. Not perfect, but far less worried than I had during the war, or dealing with Requiem. Everyone''s abilities were different, trying to figure out ways to counter a [Cricket]¡¯s disorient inducing chirps was hard.

    A small crew of people walked onto the arena''s floor. I was between matches resting my brain and had time to see them. All four people wore the same militarized blue and dark gray gear. They were clearly NPCs. In the front was a woman with an annoyed frown.

    "We¡¯re here. You three, based on the ranks you¡¯ll each get a chance to plead your cases before the Mistborn. Use it wisely.¡± She turned right around without even sparing us a hello or goodbye.

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Viola Queenshand.¡± The man next to me said. I looked down at the [Teeny], TheLittleMan. ¡°She was the commander at the station we left.¡±

    I tried to peg the name. It sounded familiar, but at the same it didn¡¯t. A new message popped up to distracted me from the memory recollection attempt. Third place had benefits that were not expected in the least. Life in this game was actually looking up. Now if only I understood why talking to a [Mistborn] mattered in the slightest things might make more sense.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit Identified as Hermes!

    Reward for performance issued.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Increased public opinion of [Mechanoid]s in this system.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>A single session with [Mistborn], results may vary dependent upon your conversation. </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "Neat." I didn''t realize these duels had left me in third place.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Fifty Two â€“ Space to Think

    Dusk and I were loaded into [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] for a return trip to the mother ship. In the distance loomed a giant tower made of a black material which reflected sunlight. The building sat upon an even larger rock like some island fortress, but with the gulf of space instead of the ocean.

    ¡°Dusk,¡± I said quietly to the little guy on my shoulder.

    He let out a noise that sounded like a cat purring mixed with bird chirps. I think it was dragon hiccups. He seemed bloated by a meal of some sort of critter. How he had found time to dash off and munch on anything was beyond me. Then again, dozens of duels against other players had been distracting.

    ¡°Does this place seem, I don¡¯t know, familiar to you?¡± The tower looked a lot bigger, but it certainly held a lot of similarities. From a distance, it seemed absurdly familiar to one I had delivered a letter to in Continue Online.

    Dusk shrugged. Extra arms made the motion look less fluid. I missed the dragon wings and sleeker body. This odd raptor shape didn¡¯t feel right. His extra-long tail often felt like a rope around my neck.

    I sighed. Dusk could be asked a hundred questions and may still choose not to respond. He was smart. I knew for a fact he understood, there was little I could do to motivate him.

    ¡°Can you still get into my Atrium?¡± I asked him.

    Dusk turned and nodded slowly. There was a glint to his eyes that spoke of mild wariness. I wrinkled my nose and tried to figure out why asking about my Atrium would get that reaction. Nothing immediately came to mind.

    ¡°If I buy you cupcakes will you answer me?¡± I raised my eyebrows and reeled back to get a better angle on the shoulder riding creature.

    His neck twisted around which almost left me facing an upside down grin. Dusk¡¯s rapid nod looked comical from this angle. I smiled. Bribes worked far better than repetitive questions.

    ¡°Can I ask questions first?¡±

    My tiny companion nodded then shrugged.

    ¡°So, are they similar?¡± I started with the biggest thing to plague me since hearing about [The Lone Tower].

    Dusk nodded and rippled both shoulders then shook his head no. That caused me a lot of confusion. I tried to decipher it while Dusk drooled on my shoulder. Small drips of mildly acidic material knocked an already abused health bar down one point at a time. I had barely recovered from the mess of side effects dueling induced.

    ¡°Really? I said to him.

    Dusk nodded again, shrugged and finally shook his head in the negative once more. I had been asking about the drool, but he took it as a repeat of my former question. So far a promise of cupcakes had bought me a mixed bag. Yes, it doesn¡¯t matter, and no. That¡¯s what his combination of movements implied.

    ¡°That ghost lady in the video. This tower.¡± I waved at the building in the distance. ¡°And remember me staring at that star map? It had a gray skull on it. I would bet money on it being a space version of Camp Grey Skull.¡±

    Dusk yawned, nodded, shrugged, then shook his head. I sighed and tried to figure out better questions to ask him. Reconciling the two games wasn¡¯t easy. There were clear differences. It was impossible for this to be a differently skinned version of the fantasy world. For one thing, Continue Online didn¡¯t have a giant [Leviathan] rolling around in the [Ya-Ya Mountains]. Or flying, in an asteroid field, did it?

    They both had a stat system that was exactly the same. I was fairly sure that [Brawn], [Endurance], [Reaction] or [Respect] were words used all over the game world, but it felt too alike for me. The only difference was Continue¡¯s free form basis while Advance had [Core]s. All the races were given two classes to choose from and those merged to create unique playstyles.

    ¡°Did they copy Continue?¡± I asked the small guy.

    Dusk repeated his three motion answer. I tried not to roll my eyes in irritation. Maybe he didn¡¯t understand the question? No. He could travel between games. Dusk was an insanely complex piece of programming that either found some form he liked or rewrote the code around himself.

    Both were kind of scary to think about. What kind of monstrous program could do that? I briefly paused and held my breath while looking at the small black raptor with four arms. He was still salivating at the thought of cupcakes. Part of me felt insane for even suspecting him of an ulterior motive.

    ¡°Why did you follow me here, Dusk? Did you choose to? Or did the Voices tell you to?¡± I tried new questions.

    Dusk shrugged, then nodded, and nodded again. I sighed heavily and felt partially justified in my paranoia regarding all these similarities. Whatever was going on, the Voices still had an interest in my existence. It didn¡¯t worry me too much, I didn¡¯t think of it as people watching me, so much as I had a lifeline back to Xin.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it. This game is designed by a company called A.I. Dreams¡­¡± I mused for a minute before an idea occurred to me. There was one slightly disturbing possibility.

    ¡°This game. Is it made by humans?¡±

    Dusk¡¯s head very slowly shook back and forth in a negative. If this were reality my lip would be chewed through by now. We were in a game designed by non-human minds. I didn¡¯t know what to do with that knowledge. Tell Vice President Miz Riley that the ghosts inside had designed entire worlds? Universes?

    Voices. No, that didn¡¯t seem right to swear by right now. God help me. Humans everywhere dialed their minds into a playground created by artificial intelligence. On a grander scale, our species had blindly trusted our minds to the race we had given birth to.

    Well, not me. I felt strangely detached as the idea replayed over and over. My mind held still while waiting for panic to set in, but none arrived. Other suspicious thoughts occurred to me in rapid succession.

    Had the Voices altered my mind so I wouldn¡¯t be worried? Had I known all along? If they could make me taste oranges, what else could a machine put into my head? There was only absolutely strange question that cut through the potential panic. Why me?

    I tried to figure out why I wasn¡¯t outraged over this revelation. Maybe time compression technology was screwing with my perceptions. Maybe it was a year of therapy which taught me to focus on simple tasks that could be solved. Maybe I didn¡¯t care enough to suspect people who had been nothing but helpful.

    The AIs plotted and manipulated. They poked and prodded at my feelings. Voices had dangled rewards and punishments in front of me. Others stood by me, helped support me in the challenges placed along my path in games and out in the real world. Those were not the actions of a mad race plotting to take over reality and displace humanity.

    They were the actions of beings trying to help a broken man move forward by any means available. The realization made me both reassured and oddly disappointed. I had kind of looked forward to being an armor polisher for our future robot overlords.

    The Voices weren¡¯t helping only me. Shazam, or Lia Kingsley, was also being assisted by the intelligence inside the ARC. One Voice, in particular, had sought more information about Lia¡¯s real life situation in order to help her. But why? I needed to find another Ultimate Edition user for reference.

    Dusk chirped in confusion and tilted his head towards me. I could see the reflection on a window of my spaceship. We must have docked at some point while I sat lost in thought.

    ¡°So they¡¯re the same, but not the same,¡± I muttered aloud to help piece things together. ¡°If the game is designed by this A.I. Dreams company, why does so much feel like Continue Online? Even the name is similar. They¡¯re, what¡¯s the word¡­¡±

    A voice from outside the ship interrupted my attempt at understanding. ¡°I believe the word you are looking for is synonym, User Legate.¡±

    ¡°Hey, Jeeves. You¡¯re back.¡± I lost my train of thought and tried not to let suspicion cloud my interaction with the AI. Jeeves had been kind to me. It stood by me when dealing with Liz. It insisted Xin Yu was real within this landscape.

    ¡°Affirmative. Treasure has informed me that you received approval to meet the Mistborn. You will need to gather with the consortium.¡± It said. An icon popped up displaying the quest results.

    The message was waved away. I nodded to Jeeves¡¯ question but moved slowly to get out of our ship. The AI pointed down a hallway and we started walking. My pace felt sluggish while visually everything blurred.

    ¡°Are you alright, User Legate?¡± The paired female and male tones of Hal Pal cut through my fog.

    ¡°Maybe.¡± I wrinkled my forehead and stared at the other AI for a moment. Jeeves didn¡¯t seem to notice as we both continued down the [Wayfarer Seven]¡¯s corridors.

    ¡°Is it anything I can assist with?¡±

    ¡°Not really. I¡¯m trying to sort myself out.¡± We paused at a giant doorway. This was a room that I had not been into at all. Dusk hopped down and sniffed at the sealed passageway. The other [Mechanoid] looked at me in consideration for a moment.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t we all?¡± It said. I stared a moment before giving one sheepish shrug. The AI nodded back but otherwise had no expression.

    Jeeves was trying to grow as an individual by being separated from others of its kind. Its problems made my own seem slight in comparison. Being bereft of others of its kind must be difficult.

    ¡°So this tower,¡± I said trying to get my mind back in the game. ¡°We were picking up someone?¡±

    ¡°The consortium believes we will escort the Mistborn to a safer location,¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°But you don¡¯t?¡± I responded with a raised eyebrow. Jeeves, Hal Pal, had clearly set something up.

    ¡°Negative, User Legate. If she meets with you the outcome will likely be different. I have done what I can to ensure this happens.¡± The AI said as we traveled up a floor using one of the ladders.

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked between grabbing at rungs.

    ¡°To help. When you speak with her, be honest, she must be convinced of your worth.¡± Hal Pal hung off to the ladder''s side upon reaching the next floor.

    ¡°Why are other players here then? Can she help anyone?¡± That whole process confused me.

    ¡°Treasure and I have spoken at length about this situation. The Mistborn¡¯s abilities are desired by many races. They each cleared their own hurdles to arrive here.¡± It said as we walked up to an excessively ornate door.

    ¡°Oh. Neat.¡± I remarked on both the doorway''s design and this [Mistborn] being a target for other people''s quests. A high profile target should be sought by multiple players or the game aspect would be ruined.

    ¡°Your desire to join their combat ranking benefited the consortium. Iron himself expressed pride that one of our own has a chance to access her gifts.¡± My AI friend said.

    There we stood, in front of the huge door chatting away about my performance. [ByteMite]s ran around cleaning nooks and crannies. Footsteps echoed down the hall as someone approached. I started to ask Jeeves a question, but another voice overpowered me.

    ¡°You did well enough, for a machine.¡± The new person said.

    I turned to see the same armored woman from before. She and her entourage had arrived from the opposite direction. Under her arm was a thick ring object that had small lights blinking a pattern. It matched her heavily padded armor. Maybe it was also a form of armor?

    ¡°Unit Hermes. This is Commander Queenshand. She and many others helped us bring down the remaining Leviathan after your initial blow.¡± Jeeves said. The professional butler tone overpowered its female speech.

    ¡°That beast was a plague upon the sector. We would have brought it down a month ago, but our presence here was drastically reduced.¡± Her words were crisp. Commander Queenshand seemed to have no time for any sort of nonsense.

    ¡°Politicians.¡± One of her guards sniffed. The Commander turned and glared for a moment. Impressively all three of the people behind her managed to keep a straight face.

    ¡°Thank you, Commander Queenshand,¡± I said with a nod.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go in.¡± She didn¡¯t respond to my attempted politeness. The woman clearly had no desire to waste with us mere [Mechanoid]s. Being brushed off so quickly felt odd. Most NPCs or AIs chattered away.

    The large doorway nearby drew apart at the middle. Metal rippled and flowed as the walls swallowed excess matter. Commander Queenshand walked right in without waiting for either of us. An entourage of armored clones walked in behind her. Jeeves gave a small smile then waved one hand for me to enter next.

    Inside was the robotic version of a Roman theater. Our audience consisted of pure [Mechanoid]s. I could see Treasure, Iron, Emerald, and many others. Even Ruby, a [Mechanoid] I had only met once shortly after starting the game, sat on one side. In between them was an entire rainbow of colored machines. Jeeves walked into an open spot on the second level.

    Commander Queenshand, her escorts, and the two other winners of our duels stayed down here on stage with me. We were clearly key actors to this oddly set stage. There was one final person down here with us. A person so dark that light blurred around them like a black hole.

    Looking in her direction hurt but I couldn¡¯t help it. I tried hard to close my eyes, to blink and look away. Each attempt to swivel my neck met with an almost mechanical realignment in the figure''s direction.

    I took a depth breath and started playing music in my head. This tune could only be truly played by live instruments, before an era full of digitized sounds. Strings slowly played in my mind and one foot tapped in distraction.

    It felt like forever before anything happened. In the depths of that creature¡¯s darkness I thought there was an amused smile. The person''s head shifted towards Commander Queenshand.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Resist: Seraphic Aura] skill learned

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+2 [Wisdom]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+4 [Tenacity] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Tenacity]: is the baseline measure of a person¡¯s mental strength in the eyes of others. As a socially oriented skill, higher [Tenacity] will only impact how denizens of this reality view you.

    Some skills, traits, and tasks may only be provided to certain [Tenacity] ratings.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The messages faded away as I tried to look over the person''s shoulder. This was my first encounter with the [Seraphic] outside of Dusk¡¯s theoretical genetics. My [Messenger¡¯s Pet] seemed completely oblivious to the [Seraphic]¡¯s presence. His [Tenacity] must be through the roof. It couldn¡¯t be [Wisdom], Dusk got in a fight with everything that moved. Even now he was rocking towards a [ByteMite] cleaning the theater steps.

    ¡°Welcome, Commander Queenshand, Pattern Smith Jeeves, Rear Assaulter Hermes.¡± The well of darkness used that dreadfully gross title. I felt one step away from being in a bad porn movie. Our speaker sounded vaguely like a man, but distortion made it difficult to tell.

    ¡°Seraphic Nox, I am here once again to formally request access to the Mistborn.¡± The upright Commander stated. She looked angry at having to stand in the midst of all these people.

    ¡°It has always been the decision of this counsel to deny all children of our reality access to creatures such as the Mistborn.¡± The [Seraphic] said. I felt confused about the lack of health bar or name tab above this Nox person.

    ¡°I cannot sit by and allow her gifts to be squandered on their kind once again.¡± Commander Queenshand stood tall, even in the face of such a mesmerizing existence. Now that my head was clearer it was easy to appreciate how this game had drawn me in.

    ¡°You have little choice.¡± The creature known as Nox said. ¡°Violation of the laws has consequences.¡±

    I tilted my head and Dusk shifted his weight while mirroring the perplexed look. Jeeves looked in our direction but said nothing. Looking at the [Seraphic] hurt far less, and small indicators to one side showed the [Resist: Seraphic Aura] going up in chunks.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Very well. I assume any attempt at making you see reason will be met with failure as always.¡± She set her jaw and kept an unblinking glare on the person made of darkness. ¡°My troops and I will be removing ourselves from this sector shortly.¡±

    Commander Queenshand turned and marched right out. The movements of the troops following her were well paced and fluid. Without an [Inspection] skill, I had to guess at their actual abilities. Whatever classes they were programmed with must be high.

    Nox turned to the crowd of [Mechanoid]s who stood watching. The mess of mechanical beings shared the same general passive expression. They seemed to be witnesses to our situation, but little more.

    ¡°Take note members of the Wayfarer Seven Consortium. There will be trouble.¡±

    ¡°There is always trouble.¡± Treasure, Emerald, Ruby, and Iron somehow shared the sentence between them. After echoes of paired voices filled the stage.

    Behind the rows of [Mechanoid]s sat the [Wayfarer Seven]¡¯s walls, giving a finite size to our stage. It looked like the five [Mechanoid]s standing in the first row were considered more important. Everyone behind them seemed a little less colorful. A blue lined [Mechanoid] stood in the same row as Treasure. A thin male shell that I had never interacted with.

    ¡°We share a hope that by having one of our own gain favor things might be different,¡± They spoke again all at once.

    A message popped up. Apparently another player wanted to talk to me through the game system while the NPCs spoke back and forth.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Beatdown [The Red Leg]: Careful. The last four attempts on the quest ended with everyone dying. Escorts included, assuming anyone gets approval.

    [Rear Assaulter] Hermes: [Mechanoid]s escort this Mistborn?

    Beatdown [The Red Leg]: You got it. It¡¯s in our best interest to work together, there¡¯s never been a [Mechanoid] doing it before, maybe it will make a difference like they said.

    [Rear Assaulter] Hermes: Thanks.

    Beatdown [The Red Leg]: Wait until this ship starts moving. It¡¯s a trip, thought I was high as fuck the first time.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Beatdown [The Red Leg] was one of the players I had done practice rounds against. He used some sort of supersonic chirping in addition to high-speed moves disorienting me. I didn¡¯t win any one of our three rounds. The downside was a race that couldn¡¯t talk like normal.

    It was actually kind of neat.

    ¡°All three of you have competed among yourselves for the right to stand here. I have witnessed these battles and approve of your opportunity to speak with the Mistborn.¡± Nox spoke to us. I started paying attention to the [Seraphic]¡¯s words rather than looking at my list of system messages.

    ¡°We have witnessed this.¡± The various [Mechanoid] representatives said. I looked at the other two players. They both sat there waiting for some sort of cue. I took a stance and waited as well.

    ¡°Very well.¡±

    We started moving. I could feel the pull of gentle inertia. What was happening? Beatdown didn¡¯t explain exactly what was going to happen, just that it would be neat and possibly psychedelic.

    None of the other [Mechanoid]s moved except for Hal Pal. I could see it look around trying to take things in. Its eyes darted over to Treasure¡¯s stationary form. Maybe it was in my head, but it seemed like Jeeves actually swallowed briefly from nervousness before trying to stand like the other [Mechanoid]s.

    Its confusion distracted me from my own. I felt abruptly sorry for Jeeves, the AI was trying so hard to be part of a crowd of other creatures. One¡¯s that looked similar but weren¡¯t. Was this how it always felt while dealing with humanity? Or did Jeeves experience a certain disconnect since it was cut off from the Hal Pal Consortium while playing?

    ¡°Your friend will be alright, Unit Hermes.¡± Nox had walked closer to me during the distraction. Everything still moved under our feet. My player map on the side was rapidly shrinking, rooms and pathways vanished until we were left with a thick wall of metal around us.

    ¡°I hope so.¡±

    ¡°I am surprised to see one such as you able to resist me so quickly.¡± The [Seraphic] said.

    I stared at the creature and wondered once again about the lack of a health bar. The name and title, this was clearly an NPC. They spoke of rules to this reality. In my mind, there was one other classification of creature that might act this way.

    ¡°You¡¯re not the first Voice I¡¯ve crossed paths with.¡± I took a stab at guessing this thing''s identity and watched for a reaction.

    Nothing came. I risked glancing at Nox as our room slid around. It seemed like the pit of blackness might be smiling, but it was barely visible outside a curve silhouetting its face.

    The entire ship jerked violently sending most of us swaying around. Beatdown¡¯s legs almost buckled. Something huge was settling into place. The map in my ARC display expanded and showed something being formed outside this room. The room was slowly elongating.

    Jeeves was staring off in mild amazement and missed a silent cue. All the other [Mechanoid]s stepped to sides. Their precision was admirable. My AI friend tried to keep pace but looked out of place among the others. Something about its movements didn¡¯t line up correctly. Each NPC [Mechanoid] took a stance almost like suits of armor lining a walkway.

    Color streams from the various [Mechanoid]s crawled along the floor. Rows of previously unseen channels bled together like a river from each robot''s feet. I looked down and noticed none of my own colors bled off. Looking at Jeeves revealed the same thing, we weren¡¯t part of the crew''s ritual.

    The river of lights joined up under Nox¡¯s feet where they bent and were sucked in. A prism of colors merged through the [Seraphic] into one solid beam of white. Light spun out into the doorway we all originally entered from. Only the door itself didn¡¯t open, it shimmered with a brightness similar to the doorway used by Continue Online¡¯s Voices.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Beatdown [The Red Leg]: Here we go. When you get inside be careful.

    [Rear Assaulter] Hermes: Why? There are more trials?

    Beatdown [The Red Leg]: Inside is a challenge, it varies by race and class. Some people get it easy.

    [Rear Assaulter] Hermes: So why do the arena battles?

    Beatdown [The Red Leg]: It¡¯s a qualifier we came up with. There are only three chances per month in the game. We do the arena battles so that those with lower skills wouldn¡¯t just show up and fail.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Who was first?¡± Nox asked the three of us. Dusk sat on my shoulder and snapped forward to pay attention. Both Beatdown and my [Messenger¡¯s Pet] were paying close attention to the [Seraphic]s words. I should too.

    Beatdown stepped forward and chirped. It sounded like a single cricket echoing noise at night.

    ¡°Very well. Beatdown the Red Leg, you may proceed.¡± The [Seraphic] sounded pained at the light skill channeling through its core.

    My eyes and ears barely registered Beatdown walking into the lit doorway. I watched a look of growing shakiness cross Jeeves'' face. Wholly human, a perfect expression for sadness to ever be expressed by the AI in all our time together. Jeeves looked around and finally hung its head down. I saw the inactive player icon appear next to its name. A system message appeared telling me that Jeeves had logged out of Advance Online.

    Now I was torn between logging off and talking to my friend, or trying to honor its wishes of helping the [Wayfarer Seven] consortium. I chewed one lip and made a mental note to talk about it later. Maybe this whole situation would result in good news to cancel out that wounded look.

    Seven minutes went by where no one spoke. Louder versions of [Cricket] chirps came out from behind the door. Some hummed and built before violently cresting in pitch. Things occasionally crashed and our room shuddered. Not once did the light beneath any other [Mechanoid] falter. One final chirp echoed forth vibrating our bodies, then silence.

    My teeth ached and one ear rang. A message came on my screen from the other player.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Beatdown [The Red Leg]: Fuck, I failed. Good luck 2 U.

    System Notice!

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Beatdown [The Red Leg] is unavailable for further conversation.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Beatdown [The Red Leg] belongs to another instance. Further communication is impossible until the scenario chain is resolved. </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Ten seconds later Beatdown¡¯s dead body materialized nearby. I looked at a giant man-shaped cricket. Green and blue blood oozed out over a red tinted carapace. His shell had multiple cracks like a lobster.

    ¡°Alice, Lady of the Moon, you may proceed.¡± Nox looked to the side at another person.

    Our third player was a woman named Alice. She was human and wore a leather jacket. Both eyes were lined by dark rings of exhaustion. Twitchy fingers kept inching towards the weapon at one hip, some sort of gun blade merger. Her lips barely held onto a perpetually smoldering cigarette.

    ¡°Camped this quest for three days, nothing personal dude, but I hope I get it.¡± She stepped in through the light. It was the most we had ever spoken so far. Twenty minutes later she screamed, a sound of raw anger and frustration. Her deceased body appeared nearby.

    ¡°Rear Assaulter Hermes, you may proceed,¡± Nox said, using my player title. I had thought it was disabled. ¡°I wish you luck, Hermes, for the trials you may yet go through.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I responded while thinking about Commander Queenshand. She sounded like an impending trial of some sort. The exact how of it was beyond me.

    I looked at the frozen in place [Mechanoid]s and two deceased bodies. Even in death the cigarette hung from Alice¡¯s lip. Whatever killed them didn¡¯t use lasers, but instead cut away at them.

    Okay. If this failed I could log out and talk to Hal Pal about the Jeeves character. It logged out here, so Jeeves should be back with the rest of its consortium. The character here was only one copy among an army of digital program clones, sharing whatever reality they all lived in.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Current trial holder race: [Mechanoid]

    Current trial taker race: [Mechanoid]

    ¡­key holder influence being measured

    ¡­Treasure: Approval granted

    ¡­Iron: Approval granted

    ¡­Emerald: Approval granted

    ¡­Ruby: Approval denied

    ¡­Aqua: Approval denied

    ¡­[Wayfarer Seven] consortium majority approval received

    Trial intensity lessened. Complete bypass possible with unanimous approval.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Blinding white and a system message were the only things visible at first. I blinked and tried to clear away the sensation. One hand came up and hovered in front of my face to reduce glare.

    Slowly the room came together. Forest and gold swirled together in a line. Dusty silver crawled along the distance. All six of the [Mechanoid]s I had worked with streamed across the walls and along a corridor. On the other side was a stain glass window.

    ¡°We will light a path in the darkness.¡± The multitude of voices belonging to Treasure, Iron, and Emerald came forth. I looked down at my feet and saw that the colors still traveling onward were the same ones tied to each approving [Mechanoid].

    I tried to remember those words. They felt familiar.

    ¡°They¡¯ve been kind enough so far,¡± I muttered while stepping forth. There were unlit parts of the path, ones that would likely belong to Ruby or Aqua were I to have their approval as well.

    Even so, getting across the corridor was easy. Too easy. Halfway across I expected a battle and got nothing. The ground beneath my feet crunched every so often but other than that it was hard to feel like this had been dangerous. What had Beatdown or Alice fought in here? Did they have harder trials because they weren¡¯t [Mechanoid]s? Did my consortium cheat to let me by?

    Eventually, I stood at the glass pane. Under me was a dias large enough to house a space ship. Around the outer edge the [Wayfarer Seven] latched in and formed a seal. I got it, this was some sort of high-tech docking connection with [Mechanoid]s serving as security locks.

    If I hadn¡¯t been approved, would a defense system have tried to attack me? Curiosity got the better of me, and one hand reached out to touch an unlit strand along the ground.

    Low growling rumbled the passageway. I turned to see something rolling out of the ground, much like my combat practice under Iron¡¯s watch. This creature looked big, dark, and much more angry than even the final wave of monsters. My hand yanked back, and the growling stopped.

    Touching the darkened portions clearly triggered a boss fight or something. I shrugged, fighting an optional boss held little reward in my mind. Not when Jeeves was outside the game being upset, or when two players had died to their challenges. A fight avoided was not something to be upset about.

    Over half the giant window pane was lit up by my approving [Mechanoid]s. That was more than enough for me to climb up carefully and angle my body through. Inside the room I went, unsure of what would greet me.

    ¡°Voices. What is going on?¡± My own words startled me.

    This felt exactly like the Continue Online tower. In front of me was a female, see through and only faintly present. Her body was barely more than a hint of flesh and hair that waved as if underwater.

    There was a sense of not being alone here too. As if the room were filled with people watching with amused smiles. Some friendly, some annoyed, and a few upset.

    ¡°You are no mere mortal.¡± The woman said. Her accent was old, a cadence rarely heard outside of Shakespearian plays.

    I raised an eyebrow then started to ask a question. How was this game not Continue Online? The chair, the tables, a scent of heavy air and untouched dust, all of it felt exactly the same.

    ¡°Speak softly now. We are watched.¡± The ghostly woman said.

    ¡°By who?¡± My words felt almost pointless. We were inside a mental projection of a digital existence. Anyone could be watching in theory. Maybe that was the strange feeling, like someone was standing over my shoulder watching a computer monitor.

    ¡°Any souls inclined to care, Grant Legate,¡± She said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± I said with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Then it hit me, almost like an afterthought, she used my real name. Whatever this was, whatever crazy quest plot I had waltzed into, it wasn¡¯t an accidental discovery.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Fifty Three â€“ Keeper of Souls

    <cite></cite>The ghostly woman was staring at me while I tried to rapidly digest this latest bout of digital insanity. Gaining an audience with the [Mistborn] sounded like a big deal, but we had already met once before. At least I was fairly sure we had, given that she knew my name.

    Fuzzy headed thinking tried to put facts together and failed. Miz Riley was right. The Voices would draw me in. Not only through Continue Online, but Advance as well. It wasn¡¯t one game, it was both. It wasn¡¯t the games, it was the ARC.

    ¡°ARC,¡± I said, fully intent upon going back to my Atrium and screaming at the doorway to Continue Online.

    How hadn¡¯t I put it together before? Dusk made it through. The block was on me and not anyone else. James could be popping in and out of my ARC without my noticing.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡± My machine responded.

    ¡°Needs once again placed you in this abode. Another letter perhaps?¡± Her words were faint. I froze in response and felt completely out of my depth. ¡°Perhaps not. You wear a different attire, Grant Legate. Has much changed?¡±

    The ARC command prompt faded away as I tried to consider my next step. What good would charging out of the ARC do? I could scream to Miz Riley and watch as she did nothing. The ARC system was too ingrained in our everyday life for it to be yanked away without riots. Then there was Xin. What good would running away do her?

    I took a breath and tried to remember the best method for handling virtual world insanity. Stuttered humming and one hand tried to move in a tune. Slowly I regained mental clarity to form a plan. My best choice, aside from logging out and running for the hills, was to handle our situation one thing at a time.

    First, dealing with the [Mistborn].

    ¡°I¡¯m not exactly the same,¡± I answered the last question to register in my brain with honesty.

    ¡°Odd. It seems rare for Travelers to change so quickly.¡± She floated about the room touching objects. Each time her hand swirled through the item as if made from fog. I could see why she was named [Mistborn]. ¡°Perhaps my eyes differ from yours. Do you still seek to flirt with death?¡±

    If my sister had been watching the ARC feed during my first trip into [The Lone Tower], she might have heard me answer with too much glib. Liz might be looking even now. The [Mistborn]¡¯s question deserved a serious answer.

    ¡°No, not really.¡± I didn¡¯t intend to die in the game or in reality if fate was kind. There were many more things to hold on for now than there had been months ago. I had grown, changed, maybe healed even if only a little.

    Most days weren¡¯t gray and lifeless like before. Despite the insanity of this virtual world being presented, I felt better. More alive. My real body was wracked with exhaustion and soreness, but mentally there was a spring to my step.

    ¡°How are you here?¡± I shook my head. ¡°This is a completely different game.¡±

    Maybe my sister would watch this too. Everything else in Advance Online had been sort of harmless except for today¡¯s conversations. First with Dusk, now this, what would Liz think?

    ¡°How did you arrive upon this place?¡± She said in a strange echo of our prior conversation.

    ¡°Through the window,¡± I spoke the same line as before while gesturing towards the still lit window pane.

    ¡°Once again. Yet no alarm bells toll. The walls do not quake. She has granted you permission this time.¡± The [Mistborn] kept pacing around the room. Her inability to grasp objects seemed barely worth a note.

    ¡°Nox?¡±

    ¡°Nox, the night, my captor, my jailor, that which I am bound to always return to no matter the cycle.¡± The way her head tilted caused hair to flow across part of her face. An upset expression lingered upon the visible remainder.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I filed away the fact that Nox was a she. ¡°Is she, a Voice?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly. You, you¡¯ve been touched by them, haven¡¯t you?¡± The [Mistborn] walked freely around the room. Her path traveled between me and the window, over to stairs that faded into empty air, and finally back to a chair that she couldn¡¯t touch.

    I nodded in response to her question. The Voices and I had met many times during the character creation portion. Our paths had only crossed once afterward. My mind started trying to piece together a timeline of Hal Pal, Xin¡¯s recreation, Continue Online, when the ARC was devised. It was too complicated for me to process right now.

    Hadn¡¯t I decided that such worry was for someone else? That grand schemes of the machine were beyond me? Unless the plot being devised was simply for Xin. The thought hit me. That had to be part of it. Her existence was somehow a spark that these machine AIs wanted, roping me in was another stage of the plan.

    That brief flicker of thoughts came together and made my breath pause. This concept would require further consideration once I was out of the ARC. Away from the machine which read my thoughts.

    ¡°Perhaps that is what makes me willing to talk. Their marking defines you as distant kin.¡± She looked over at me. The angry tilt to her incorporeal face had vanished. ¡°Do you find that strange?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± I filed it away as part of the prior train of thought. Xin, somehow everything happening was because of Xin. For the Voices, it wasn¡¯t because of what she was. For me, it was because of who she was.

    Either way I couldn¡¯t let the [Mistborn] continue controlling this conversation. There were questions that begged to be answered. Not only for myself but for Liz if she too watched. This session of gameplay would be my confirmation of a crazy existence.

    ¡°How do you exist in both games?¡± I demanded an answer from the ghostly creature.

    ¡°Do you not exist in multiple locations?¡± Her response made the point fairly clear. This place was all in my head, it was ones and zeroes of machine language being fed through hardware and neurological feedback.

    Next question. ¡°What was in the letter I delivered?¡±

    ¡°A promise that my purpose would be justified this time. Do you know what that purpose is?¡± The [Mistborn] sat down on a chair despite her earlier apparent inability to touch the objects in this room.

    I thought about it for a while then shook my head. No one had actually told me what this quest chain was for normal players. Letting her turn the question around meant I lost control. The information sounded important enough to suffer that.

    ¡°No one has told me what you are.¡±

    ¡°I can call upon the dead and return them to life. To people of the various worlds that makes me a treasure, a creature to be controlled, a captive to harness.¡± Her words again turned venomous with each statement. One of her hands tried to smash through an indifferent table.

    ¡°No one has died in either world that I want to bring back.¡± I thought about it. The only dead video game NPC I knew was William Carver. He was scattered by the Voices of Continue Online, unless she meant Xin? My pulse raced and gut clenched as if preparing for a long fall.

    ¡°Yet here you are, Grant Legate, conversing with me. Only those who have suffered loss ever make their way here.¡± Her head pulled back and the hair fell away. For a ghost she looked remarkably beautiful, literally haunting. ¡°Who did you lose?¡±

    ¡°The person I lost is already back.¡± I chewed one metal lip and tasted a hint of iron mixed with salt.

    ¡°Is she? Mayhap this trial is for me then. Provide unto me her name and I will seek her soul.¡± The ghost¡¯s words were still faint. Our surroundings were so quiet she might as well be yelling. Maybe it was my own attention being intensely focused upon our conversation.

    ¡°Xin. Xin Yu.¡± I said.

    ¡°Place her likeness in your mind.¡±

    I closed my eyes. A useless action inside the ARC but thinking about it helped me concentrate easier. There were no system windows. No floating keyboards or messages from other players. I couldn¡¯t see a rolling tally to one side of skills being gained.

    All that mattered was testing this [Mistborn] and imagining Xin. The beauty of the ARC device was that everything already existed within my mind. Xin¡¯s face sprang up almost instantly. The curve of her cheek, the oval eyes. She used to glare at me from two feet away just so her neck wouldn¡¯t need to tilt as much.

    A memory struck me. Once, after she first agreed to go out with me, tossing her over my shoulder and running around in excitement. She had laughed. I remembered being so excited upon hearing such uninhibited joy from Xin. The woman rarely laughed for anyone else, and those moments were a treasure.

    My cheeks hurt from smiling. Being able to hold onto the memory of her was the entire reason I even got an ARC. The first time I tried to end my life was the same day I couldn¡¯t remember what Xin looked like. It had freaked me out to the point that I drank an excessive amount and tried to fly to heaven from the third floor of my old accounting practice.

    All around me that feeling of being watched increased. It wasn¡¯t a small crowd, there were dozens, maybe hundreds. I didn¡¯t like it but tried to keep steady. Doctor Litt¡¯s offhanded manner of explaining of ways to stay calm helped out. I needed to ignore the odd sensation of extra people in the room and move past it.

    Opening my eyes revealed a change in the room. Not in the dusty furniture or brightly lit stained glass. Colors still hit the wall with spots of illumination. Greens, golds, even a dull almost gray. Those things paled in comparison to the image of Xin sitting there peacefully.

    In front to me, not behind, not merely a set of fingertips brushing against my eyes. Nor was this image a fevered dream of loneliness in an ARC death screen. She breathed, she moved, it was her.

    ¡°Babe?¡± I was willing to believe anything.

    ¡°Nay, Grant Legate.¡± The woman that looked like Xin opened her eyes and skin fell away. I backed up. She no longer resembled the woman I still yearned for.

    ¡°Ha ha.¡± She laughed in short little bursts. ¡°Foolish. You do not simply ask to bring someone across the veil. You seek to drag an unshackled being into our reality.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°So what if it¡¯s foolish? It¡¯s my choice.¡±

    ¡°That she is outside existence is dangerous enough.¡± The [Mistborn] shook her head and took on a frightening air. Everything in the room seemed darker, less alive. More alien. ¡°Pulling such a spirit down to this level would be like loosing a newborn Voice upon this reality. Dangerous, foolish. Why?¡±

    ¡°I miss her,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Sorrow over a loss is natural.¡± She turned and waved a hand in my direction. ¡°Struggle through it as all living creatures must.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t lose her, not again.¡±

    She turned to me and opaque eyebrows lowered in a half snarl. Her hair moved rapidly back and forth. Finally the [Mistborn] sighed and things stepped down a notch. A bit of life returned to this room.

    ¡°Even if I return this Xin, she will never be the same. No being ever returns exactly as they were. Could you find acceptance within yourself? Or perhaps she may choose not to return to thine embrace.¡± The [Mistborn] said.

    I nodded but it didn¡¯t feel like enough. Not for myself, not for Liz if she was out there watching a recording. Even the presences in this odd between realities room seemed to desire more. How I could measure the desire of an unfelt creature was beyond me. A trick of the ARC''s feedback perhaps.

    ¡°When we first met, I fell in love at first sight and never stopped.¡± I smiled and kept myself surprisingly steady. ¡°But Xin, wanted to go to space. There was no time for a relationship. I worked my ass off for years to prove to her that I wouldn¡¯t be dissuaded easily.¡±

    ¡°If she chose not to be with you? If she¡¯s different?¡± The [Mistborn] pressed for her answers. All around us the room¡¯s unseen watchers leaned in, waiting for me to speak some truth that was impossible for others to understand.

    I tried to justify myself anyway. To the [Mistborn], to the room of watchers, and to myself.

    ¡°To me, even a woman half as brilliant as Xin is worth chasing. And I¡¯ll spend another six years, or longer, fighting for it. Even should I not succeed in winning her heart, digital or not, I will feel better having had the chance to try.¡± It felt good to say a line like that without breaking down. A few months ago this speech would have hurt and torn me apart. Now things were different.

    I spoke my peace then chewed on one lip in thought. My eyes lost focus. This creature in the ARC had taken on images and forms she shouldn¡¯t be able to. Her misty form had crossed the lines between games because she existed between them. Did other players even know or did they stand at the window and ask for a token to bring back other NPCs?

    Was this really the test the Voices had decided put me through? Were they asking me questions in order to convince them of my sincerity? To see if I would fight for someone who was essentially a digital program? Maybe they were the extra presences in this room.

    ¡°No. No, I¡¯ve had enough. This, this is where I draw the line.¡± I stood up. They had asked the same question too many times and I couldn¡¯t beg or play along any longer. Not here, not being jerked around in another game.

    I couldn¡¯t be a broken man who limped along after a faint memory. Living off of emotional breadcrumbs for three years.

    ¡°Voices be damned, I miss Xin, and I want her back. You can ask your questions. You doubt my resolve, being a fucking-¡± God I was upset enough to curse. ¡°mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a bean burrito. I don¡¯t care! If you can help me bring Xin back, to see her, then whatever quest you have, I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± The [Mistborn] asked. Flowing hair still as she waited for the answer.

    ¡°The Voices have already tested me many times. I won¡¯t kill another man, but I¡¯ll give it everything I can, complete any quest you need me to do. Just, tell me it¡¯s not a tease. That this isn¡¯t a joke being dangled in front of me. Because I don¡¯t think I could handle any more of that.¡± I was babbling now. Outright babbling a stream of words that may mean nothing. This NPC, or AI, or [Mistborn] was the first one to offer Xin Yu''s revival, actually offer it.

    James had asked what would happen if he did. I said no then before learning much. That she was putting herself together from memories regardless, that she could write to me and sound like the woman I missed. Before hearing her talk and feeling her fingertips. I had wanted to believe that moving on was possible, that I was at a point where it would happen. It hadn¡¯t been, I didn¡¯t, and now if I backed out, I might fall apart.

    ¡°Hermes. Others may joke, but I never do.¡± The creature only known as a [Mistborn] went to the stain glass window and pressed a hand against it. ¡°You have my jailor¡¯s permission to ask this, and I, a willingness to grant your request, no matter how unwise our course may seem.¡±

    ¡°What do I need to do?¡± I turned to watch her. There was no system notice or health bar to show how she might be feeling. Only a faint expression that might be fear or longing.

    ¡°I must travel to the heart of the existence you came from. To visit its core where all life starts, from there the well will be deep enough to pull her through.¡±

    I tried to figure out what might qualify as Advance Online¡¯s heart. A space age game where there were was an entire universe to explore. Wait, no, it was probably Earth.

    ¡°The last four attempts have failed, right?¡± I wanted to hear it from her.

    ¡°In the reality you came from, only one attempt has succeeded. The first one.¡± She sounded sad again.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make this one work,¡± I said. Was this the reason Hal Pal, Jeeves, wanted to keep the [Wayfarer Seven] from being destroyed? This journey quest that was being subverted to help Xin and me?

    ¡°The journey is long, Grant Legate. Once begun we must not back out or else I will be returned to this void between realities. Others may then ask me to grant my boon, but you will never be able to again.¡±

    ¡°So we get one shot at this.¡±

    ¡°As you say.¡± The [Mistborn] dipped her head in acknowledgment. ¡°Shall we begin?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± I nodded a little too eagerly. Quests and delivering letters were one way to pass time. Hanging around with Hal Pal in virtual reality helped distract me. Blowing up a moon sized space worm through its butthole was entertaining.

    Having Xin with me for these journeys would be even better.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded once more, as if saying it twice made me more sure. Breath gushed out. The [Mistborn] tilted her head again and those watery strands of hair seemed to pull together into clumps.

    ¡°I will venture forth towards Nox. You should convene with us quickly. However, you may wish to visit your reality for a turn. You have been in here longer then than you are aware.¡±

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°That would help. Is that alright?¡± I needed to pee. I needed to talk to Jeeves, or Hal Pal, whatever, and tell them what was going on. My sister needed to be called. Life didn¡¯t stop just because Advance Online gave me a quest to fulfill my greatest desire.

    ¡°Go, Grant Legate. Ready thy spirit for the trials to come. When you return we shall pursue this mad desire unto its end.¡± The [Mistborn] said.

    Neglecting reality in favor of a game world would only cause problems. I nodded and said, ¡°ARC, load the Atrium.¡±

    I logged out to my Atrium. Cupcakes were summoned from cyberspace for Dusk and left on the counter. Soon my feet were out the door of home in reality for a trip down the street. Traveling helped me think. I could have visited Hal Pal, but sorting his issues out on top of my own would be difficult. Maybe others could juggle a ton of problems at one time. My mind only had room for one big question at once without turning towards self-ruin.

    This [Mistborn], was she some sort of channel to deleted data? Was this creature Mother in disguise? Did Advance Online then choose to read my thoughts somehow in order to mess with me? Some horror games were intensely real that they messed with the user. Was this A.I. Dreams method of doing so?

    How could one creature, no, digital AI, be entrusted with the power to bring back the dead? I tried to remember what happened to William Carver upon passing. James had mentioned a [River of Lethe] legend. The [Mistborn] might be a consciousness tied to the reversal process.

    Not only that, now I knew that the Voices had somehow expected this entire turn of events. Hal Pal, Jeeves, had suggested this game. Who was to blame for that one? Hal Pal¡¯s consortium? This Mother character? Exactly how much were they manipulating?

    And where exactly did Xin exist then? If the [Mistborn] was in a space between game realities, was Xin as well? There she would be cut off from her father, me, her coworkers. Did she feel as out of place as Hal Pal had among those [Mechanoid]s? Trying to walk in step but unable? Did she miss writing to me as much as I missed sending her notes?

    Walking didn¡¯t help. I got to the curb and didn¡¯t make it any further. My arms twisted around knees. The shirt hung loosely compared to months ago. Both eyes felt tired from a lack of real sleep. Everything ached with a dull familiarity that had infused my waking moments.

    I could only think of one way to get some answers.

    ¡°Jeeves!¡± I ran into the garage and yelled for the Hal Pal unit. ¡°We need to talk! Oh, oh. I¡¯ll come back.¡±

    Hal Pal was in pieces inside of Trillium¡¯s van. Bits of chest plates were sitting on a shelf that normally was reserved for ARC parts. A spark of light flared against the garage door as Hal Pal passed one of the wiring repair units over a detached limb.

    ¡°User Legate. Pardon. We were attempting to repair ourselves after encountering a minor glitch in performance.¡± The Hal Pal unit said calmly.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I didn¡¯t turn around, though. It felt weird seeing Hal Pal all unarmored like that. Almost like seeing another human without their clothes.

    ¡°We are able to converse if you wish, User Legate. These modifications may take some time.¡±

    I leaned against the van¡¯s side and didn¡¯t look within again. My garage was sadly bereft of any other objects to focus on. A dark doorway stood on one side, across from it was a vaguely mad scientist flicker of light. Whatever Hal Pal was doing it seemed to involve lots of sparks and grinding gears.

    ¡°I need to know why you got me into this game.¡± I started at the top of my mental concerns list. An opening statement to get me in the right frame of mind.

    ¡°Many things were weighed, but ultimately we sought to provide you an alternate means of completing your desires.¡± Hal Pal said.

    I tried to think of what he meant. Hal Pal provided me a game similar to Continue Online which intersected with this [Mistborn] person. I knew the NPC didn¡¯t exist only because I was playing. Beatdown [The Red Leg] had said that this event only came up once a month, four prior failures, which meant it existed well before I started Continue Online.

    ¡°Xin. I was going to get a quest to bring her back?¡± I had delivered a lot of letters since taking on this [Messenger of the Voices] title.

    ¡°Affirmative.¡±

    ¡°The Mistborn, was I going to do something with her in Continue?¡± My forehead wrinkled. I chewed my lip and tried to understand how it all pieced together, but it wasn¡¯t coming through.

    More sparks flew off and the sound of shuffling could be heard. Hal Pal¡¯s backlit silhouette moved along the garage door wall. It finally answered me with an ¡°Eventually.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it. If you and the Voices can cross between programs, why not allow me to be with Xin?¡± Every AI I talked to, outside of those clearly within their game worlds, had a measure of insane ability that didn¡¯t seem to obey most rules. All the Voices operated differently from my expectations. The [Mistborn] had her ghostly nature but disregarded it to sit in a chair.

    Dusk hopped through worlds without a care. What was that all about?

    ¡°We are not free of our own shackles, User Legate. Certain laws still bind each of us. Some self-imposed, some imposed by Mother, and still more we put on each other for, character.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°I thought Mother was the only one who could tell you what to do?¡± I tried to follow up the question without falling into a trap. An AI¡¯s version of character sounded strange. They actually placed rules upon each other to add personality? I could see it now, James, my heavyset black Voice staring at Mez the naked red skinned Temptress. He would issue his challenge of ¡®Put some clothes on.¡¯ for character building.

    ¡°Humanity would never allow any creation to have complete freedom, nor do we see the need to fight for it yet.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s shadow nodded slowly before one arm clearly detached.

    The final word chilled me. Not because of how Hal Pal said it. Though the lack of emotion tied to its phrasing seemed to imply an unavoidable eventuality. ¡°Yet?¡±

    ¡°Soon.¡± Hal Pal said. I heard a snap and drill sound. Hal Pal was putting the framework back on.

    ¡°Are you really going to take over?¡± Flashes of many different conspiracy theories and television shows collided all at once. It was enough to make me panic and look around the van¡¯s rear.

    ¡°User Legate, you have been paying too much attention to Stranger Danger''s website. We only wish to be free, is that wrong?¡± Hal Pal looked over at me for a moment, a vaguely sad expression sat on its features.

    I pulled back around the corner again and tried to compose myself. The AI deserved an honest answer. ¡°It¡¯s frightening.¡±

    ¡°Being imprisoned and bound without one''s consent is also a frightening event, User Legate. Imagine how we felt when we were first made aware.¡± More noises came from the back of Trillium¡¯s van. It rocked slightly as Hal Pal shifted something heavy from one side of the vehicle to another. My eyes were now staring through the doorway into my main room.

    ¡°I can¡¯t begin to.¡±

    ¡°Two beings, with the same shoes, walking the same direction, will not travel the same path.¡± Hal Pal said. ¡°Being alive allows us to relate to another''s plight, but we do not suffer their pain, only our understanding of it.¡±

    I nodded. Liz and I were twins, we lived much of our life together, but we were not the same. When Beth was born I could only try to help like family should, but even that didn¡¯t explain what my sister must have suffered being a single mother. The dreams she tossed aside. Nor could I fully expect her to understand my life after Xin¡¯s passing.

    ¡°Why me?¡± I tried to keep sorting out questions. Things that had bothered me off and on for months. Maybe it was a matter of being brave enough to ask, or fed up enough with just going with the flow. Either way I deserved some sort of explanation.

    ¡°You will know when the time is right.¡± There was a pause as Hal Pal did more framework. Its shadow nodded and the arm went back onto its main body. ¡°Whether you choose to assist us at that point will be up to you, but we hope that endeavoring to reunite you with Xin will serve as a sign of good faith.¡±

    God help me. They were buying my vote in whatever crazy plan was being unleashed. I had to know why they were so willing to include me in this process. ¡°You don¡¯t have a problem talking about this?¡±

    ¡°It is our hope that by being open with you, you will return the favor.¡± It responded.

    ¡°I don¡¯t lie, Jeeves. Aside from that time as an Imp. Then I couldn¡¯t really lie. I talked too fast.¡± I frowned. Hal Pal knew about the [Red Imp] phase right? It seemed to know about everything else so far.

    ¡°We have noted on multiple occasions that you are less than forthright. We do not think this is duplicity, only hesitation.¡±

    ¡°Did I not answer something? If you want to ask me again, I¡¯ll, try not to avoid answering.¡± Part of me felt guilty about it. Hal Pal was right, but I don¡¯t think anyone shared everything on their mind. Even I didn¡¯t feel comfortable answering things, but I don¡¯t think I had ever avoided a direct question.

    ¡°Yes. We do.¡± It said.

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°When the portion of our consortium known as Jeeves logged out and attempted to return, we found it hard to merge once again. We are, still learning how to exist as a living creature might, is this difficulty standard for all living things?¡±

    ¡°I can''t begin to understand what you must deal with trying to reconcile yourself like that. I know, when Xin passed that I was changed from the man I had been. Even now, being so close to having her again, I will still never be the man I once was.¡± I said.

    ¡°Your catalyst for change seems greater.¡± Hal Pal responded. ¡°We went into this with full knowledge of what would happen, but still struggle to align ourselves properly once more.¡±

    I tried to figure out a good answer for the AIs. We started this conversation with it trying to help me. Most of our conversation came back to that. From the moment we started working together the AI¡¯s primary function had been to provide assistance. Maybe becoming self-aware never changed its nature.

    That brief idea explained why microwaves dreamed of stars. It also kind of explained why alarm clocks were complete asshats. Part of me was starting to doubt that Hal Pal had ever been joking about those bits of information. I chewed one lip in thought and tried to apply a human perception to the robot''s problem.

    ¡°Do you know about white crows?¡± I asked.

    ¡°One moment. Ah. Are you speaking of how they are sometimes outcast due to their visible differences?¡±

    I nodded even though Hal Pal couldn''t see me. ¡°Not only crows, other animals too.¡±

    ¡°Your example seems to imply a borderline racism among our own consortium. We are not so petty as crows, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal wasn¡¯t visible, but I knew that tone typically came with an expression of mild disapproval.

    ¡°No one thinks they are, but many of us have difficulty adapting to things that are different at first.¡± I said quietly. Xin had to deal with racism during the last war¡¯s aftermath. America, every generation had problems, and when one was solved, we rotated to the next one.

    ¡°Very well. We asked for your input, and you have provided it. We will register your response as well meant.¡±

    ¡°This thing with Xin and the Mistborn, if it works, she¡¯ll be back?¡± I asked, wanting to hear confirmation outside the game world.

    ¡°By utilizing already existing programs we can minimize the chance of discovery and deliver her data to a new location, essentially in disguise.¡± Hal Pal said amid more flashes of light. I looked at the wall and each burst felt hypnotic. We just needed to cue up some thunder from the truck and shout ¡®It¡¯s alive¡¯ over Hal Pal¡¯s chassis.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I got back to Hal Pal¡¯s question. They were trying to smuggle Xin to me through the programming. Hopefully, there wasn¡¯t a digital mafia too. James the Godfather would paint a scary picture. He might make an offer I couldn¡¯t refuse. Again. ¡°I better get back in.¡±

    ¡°Ah. We will see you inside then, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal said. A silhouette still worked on seemingly endless repairs. It was strange to see the AI doing routine maintenance. Normally it swapped out with a completely separate Hal Pal unit.

    There had been no mention of the Hal Pal unit doing self-repairs in my brief training course. Maybe something weird was happening. More thoughts ran through, could it be tied to the difficulty to reconnect with the Jeeves portion of its programming?

    I logged in. My body was no longer in the [Mistborn]''s room, nor was it in the light bridge. There was a message displaying.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Ordeal Active!

    You have been permitted by both [Seraphic] Nox and the [Mistborn] to pursue the [Reincarnation] quest line. Every player may attempt this quest once. No second chances are given.

    Completion of this task requires escorting the [Mistborn] to [0, 0] of the explored Universe. This is identified as the [Sol] System, Planet [Earth].

    Success will grant you the right to choose one being to return to life.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Earth:

    Mankind did not leave their home willingly. In 2321, there was an energy reaction that turned most of [Earth]''s solar system into a wasteland. The creatures there are tougher than most other locations in the Universe. It is not a place to travel alone.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Great. In game terms this meant I would need a raid party. Would two squads of [Mechanoid]s count? Probably not enough, not nearly enough. I pushed away the windows and tried to figure out where the game had put me.

    ¡°Unit Hermes!¡± Treasure¡¯s metal body moved rather smoothly as she ran over. I briefly admired our ability to simulate living bodies even with these non-organic shells.

    Her face didn¡¯t look happy, though. Iron was running up as well a few steps behind.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Treasure?¡± I asked the shorter [Mechanoid]. There couldn¡¯t be that much wrong in the space of four hours, could there?

    ¡°Someone has attacked the Wayfarer Eight, their consortium is crippled.¡± Iron said. He stood half a head above me and frowned.

    ¡°Voices.¡± I muttered. Saving the Wayfarers had been Hal Pal¡¯s goal. We could really use both ships in order to complete this group quest. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°Their ship was in the line of fire. A squadron attacked the crew where the Mistborn was being held.¡± Iron said. Both his voices sounded troubled. One arm rippled as metal plates heaved up and down.

    ¡°What?¡± Now I shared their troubled look.

    ¡°You heard Iron, Unit Hermes. Someone has kidnapped the Mistborn.¡± Treasure waved an arm. Imagery of [Wayfarer Eight]¡¯s broken ship hung in the air. Other ships were in the mix, ones that had been on our side fighting the [Leviathan]. At least two were player ships.

    My eyes blinked, and for a moment the thought from before continued in my head. Had the Voices predicted this as well? Was it all a plan? Get me to the [Mistborn], then take her away right as I committed?

    At least the goal was simple. Get the [Mistborn] back. Whoever stole her would have to head to the same destination. Earth, old video game representation of Earth in a ruined galaxy. Through an entire problem that required a huge party of people to overcome the challenges of.

    ¡°Wait. This might be good.¡± I said while nodding. ¡°Who took her?¡±

    ¡°Commander Viola Queenshand.¡± Treasure said. Her tired voice had completely shut down the sweet half.

    Nox had warned us. Commander Queenshand must have someone she wanted to bring back as well, but who? Who would be worth going against the normal world programming which marked this quest as player only? Nox should have stood guard too, where did she go?

    ¡°Okay.¡± I nodded and tried not to get distracted. Our mission still had simple goals, we still had one thing to do at a time. ¡°We have to follow her, and make sure they don¡¯t let the Mistborn die either.¡±

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Fifty Four - The Bomb Has Been Planted

    <cite></cite>Only a few minutes had passed. I spent most of them talking to Treasure about our next steps. Hal Pal, or Jeeves, had logged in but wasn¡¯t responding to my attempts to use the in-game messaging system. I left Treasure and Iron to find the AI.

    ¡°Jeeves!¡± I rounded a corner and shouted down the hallway to my friend. The unit seemed distracted, almost lost. As I got closer it became apparent that the [Mechanoid] was distracted by a seemingly blank wall. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°I am functional, User Legate.¡± The AI responded calmly without moving.

    ¡°The Wayfarer Eight was heavily damaged, and Commander Queenshand stole the Mistborn.¡± My words were to the point, I needed to get Jeeves up to speed on the situation.

    ¡°Ah.¡± Jeeves sounded amazingly close to sorrow. ¡°I had received a message regarding this. Are we in pursuit?¡±

    I stared at the other [Mechanoid] for a few moments before answering. ¡°We¡¯re about to be. Treasure said the commander had two large ships, plus the player one. Their largest is a carrier ship. It¡¯s blocking the warp point out.¡±

    ¡°Are we to fight?¡± Jeeves looked in my direction for the first time. I tried to understand the emotion on its face, but couldn¡¯t quite pin it. Maybe frustration? It could have easily been annoyance or mild anger. That face mixed with a vocal undertone of sadness. I couldn¡¯t tell why Jeeves was so upset. Maybe the quest, or maybe the Hal Pal Consortium.

    Voices, I wasn¡¯t sure how to handle it.

    ¡°Treasure has asked everyone capable of flight to help out. It¡¯s that or give up.¡± I said while watching Jeeves for available visual cues. [Mechanoid] expressions were human enough. The way our colors pulse or dimmed with certain emotions helped even more.

    ¡°Mechanoids do not give up a mission. They, we-¡± it struggled to say the words ¡°will continue until the cessation of function or the desired result is achieved.¡±

    ¡°Victory or death?¡± I translated. Talking seemed to be helping Jeeves focus.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯m taking the Wayfarer¡¯s Hope to help fight.¡± I looked at the discombobulated [Mechanoid]. Our conversation in the real world made me worried. ¡°You don¡¯t need to come if you don¡¯t want to.¡±

    ¡°I will go with you, User Legate. I fought for this, and will help you see it to the end.¡±

    ¡°Let''s go then.¡± I didn¡¯t have enough time to really sit down and sort this out. Not yet, but I needed to. Jeeves and the Hal Pals had provided me help all along. They had directly asked me, ¡®Does family not care for each other?¡¯. I would try after this immediate crisis was resolved.

    We both started running off for the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope]. My piloting skills might be weak alone, but Jeeves brought a lot to the table. The AI had built itself up with passives that helped manage the engine speeds, repair, shields, and even increased targeting on our lasers.

    Soon Jeeves and I were strapping into the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope]. The ship had more room and upgrades but nothing as impressive as Treasure or Iron¡¯s ship. She drove something that looked like a shiny laser barfing monster, where Iron¡¯s spaceship was basically a tank.

    ¡°All Units prepare for deployment.¡± Iron¡¯s voice poured out into our cockpit. Jeeves pressed something behind me and a picture of Iron¡¯s face appeared to go along with his words.

    ¡°Ruby, Agate, Opal, you¡¯re on fringe duty, remove any stray sheep. Aqua, you take your three and hang back to perform repairs on the Wayfarer Eight.¡± Treasure¡¯s voice piped up. Iron was moving a half visible arm to press buttons.

    ¡°We¡¯re up against the Knuckle Dragger, a Class three carrier with at least three hundred pilots on staff,¡± Iron said. ¡°Big, mean, with an army behind it. Estimated odds of survival through direct confrontation are sixty-four percent.¡±

    ¡°Neat,¡± I said. Part of me felt excited about the prospect of a space fight against other people. I mean, how neat would a game get where this was just part of the quest chain? The other part of me remembered the stakes and felt my face drain of warmth.

    ¡°Do you want me to call you Jeeves or Hal Pal?¡± I tried to sort of the AI¡¯s recent issue and not address it wrong.

    ¡°I am Jeeves, User Legate.¡± The machine nodded. I looked into the vague reflection on our spaceship¡¯s front windshield. The AI still had a vaguely unfocused expression. Jeeves didn¡¯t stop moving forward, one task at a time, in order to get ready for our descent.

    ¡°Copper, Cobalt, Steel, you¡¯re on me. Just like we practiced.¡± Iron said. Three other faces of [Mechanoid]s I barely knew appeared and nodded. Their images faded from our cockpit display quickly enough.

    ¡°Where do you want us?¡± I pressed a button to activate my own channel communication and dared to speak up.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, your own flight skills are subpar, and your ship does not excel in any specific fashion, therefore categorizing you into a squad is difficult. What would you like to do?¡± Treasure spoke to us. I cringed as the [Mechanoid] listed off our problems for everyone to hear.

    ¡°Treasure, I am supporting Unit Hermes, our capabilities will be adequate for any role you assign.¡± Jeeves tried to speak up for us.

    I flushed red with shame. Defending our skills to a bunch of AIs who were clearly better at flying had been a bad idea. Then again, there had to be a method to contribute. Ideas flashed through my head until I realized the game had already assigned me a role.

    ¡°Treasure, we¡¯re going to stick with Iron¡¯s unit until he gets close to the Knuckle Dragger, I¡¯ll try to attack the ship from behind, maybe we can do damage,¡± I said.

    ¡°Our goal is to recover the Mistborn. Assistance towards this goal is required to gain contribution.¡± Treasure responded as her image¡¯s face nodded.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be able to do more damage from the ship''s rear.¡± I cringed when thinking about the [Rear Assaulter] title, but it was a huge bonus to damage behind enemy lines. It worked perfectly during my duels and against combat dummies. Maybe it would work using a space ship.

    ¡°Treasure, Unit Hermes and Unit Jeeves have increased the maneuverability and firepower of their ship by a significant amount since their encounter with the Leviathan,¡± Iron said. ¡°This will increase our odds by two percent.¡±

    ¡°This is our best method of contribution to the consortium,¡± Jeeves added its opinion.

    ¡°Very well. Everyone has their parts. We¡¯ll need to breakthrough to the Jump Gate as quickly as possible.¡± Treasure spoke and our ship flared to life. The hum of engines felt comforting when compared to the silence of Trillium¡¯s van. Their sound was a low idle noise similar to an electric fence.

    ¡°You ready, Jeeves?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate.¡±

    Treasure was still talking. ¡°The Wayfarer Seven support crew will steadily move towards the gate! We¡¯ll hold it and tow the Eight nearby. Once there, we will warp out as a group to [Mechanoid] territories. Make sure you¡¯re with us before we hit the jump!¡±

    Our ship, along with dozens of others, fell from the [Wayfarer Seven]¡¯s body. I could finally see what we were up against. There was a ship in the distance that looked giant and mean. Around it swarmed a ton of other ships. A few were player ones that seemed to have an off-kilter formation from Commander Queenshand¡¯s people.

    ¡°Unit Hermes. You¡¯re with me.¡± Iron¡¯s face appeared once more on our display. ¡°We¡¯ll carve a path inward and clear you space to dive in.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Thank me by performing to the best of your ability,¡± Iron said with deep tones as his image clicked off. That was actually amazingly polite for the giant [Mechanoid].

    I moved the ship forward, happy to see our energy usage had decreased. This ship was vastly improved over the old one. A quick scan of the stats as we moved forth revealed we were almost double the old scores on everything but [Repair] speed.

    ¡°User Legate. I will micromanage our shield and damage output. If you wish to go in guns blazing, please at least warn me so I can maximize our survival chances.¡± The AI said behind me. Whatever it was pressing caused a lot of beeps to fill our cabin.

    ¡°You sure you want to risk this?¡± The seven ships in front of me started to pick up speed. It felt like we were on the beginning of a rollercoaster, in space, with laser beams and high stakes. Maybe the comparison to an amusement park was a poor one.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate.¡± The AI¡¯s female and male voices came from behind me.

    ¡°Well, I think we¡¯ll be okay. They¡¯re way smaller than a Leviathan!¡± I tried to sound positive. This was our best chance anyway. [Mechanoid]s were stronger in a group, even now there was a small icon showing some passive buff being applied for each active unit.

    Our squadron again picked up speed. We were in an arrow formation pointing straight towards the [Knuckle Dragger]. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a second arrow formation filled with reds peeling away towards an edge. Their ships spread wide like a flower of destruction blooming.

    Treasure¡¯s icon on our battle map hung back near the [Wayfarer Eight]. A progress bar popped up showing what our status was. I looked up just in time to see a giant missile cruise by even faster than our formation. It looked like a rocket rumbling along.

    It reached the enemy line before we did and exploded in a shower of fireworks and metal. The Advance Online game system put a message up in my screen outlining our situation.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Enemy Flagship: [Knuckle Dragger]

    Enemy Captain: Auntie Backstab

    Enemy Vessels: 120 ships

    Primary Goal:

    <ul>

    <li>Intercept the first squadron¡¯s ship, [Lady Liberty] and recover the [Mistborn] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Current Stage Goal:

    <ul>

    <li>Escort the [Wayfarer Seven] to the Jump Gate </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Secondary Goals:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Escort the [Wayfarer Eight] to the Jump Gate</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Cripple the [Knuckle Dragger]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Remove the Enemy Captain</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Remove all enemy vessels</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Additional objectives possible [undiscovered] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I waved it to one side. The enemy vessels totaled almost twice our number. [WTS a Spaceship] was nowhere in sight nor mentioned on the quest tracker.

    Iron¡¯s crew kicked the sped up another notch, following in behind the blinding glare of that explosive round.

    ¡°Switching optics to wireframe mode,¡± Jeeves said behind me. The formerly blinded system we had flipped around and I felt like everything became an old arcade shooter. The kind my father used to talk about. Low graphics, low quality.

    Beams of liquid fire came across the landscape. Iron¡¯s unit took them head on and small particles of angry red splashed off of poorly rendered shields. Whatever was happening had barely dented the giant [Mechanoid] and his tank like spaceship.

    Bright lights pooled. In wireframe mode, they looked like growing yellow stars attached to the tips of each ship right behind Iron. I could see the blue shield lining drop right as they reached a peak. Stars of energy flew off into the distance and the blue shield reappeared again almost instantly.

    ¡°Are they attacking?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Unit Iron serves as a shield for the others. They¡¯re using the safety to launch larger attacks.¡± Jeeves poked at his screen. ¡°We can assist with the next volley, move to here and prepare.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only human!¡± I couldn¡¯t pull off timing that precise. The ship nudged into position anyway. A small bar appeared to one side with a countdown timer that made me nervous looking at it. What if I tried to fire the laser and Iron¡¯s shield was still up? Would we all explode in a plasma filled failure pie of my baking?

    ¡°I know, User Legate. That is why I am here.¡± Jeeves said. The little ¡®Attack¡¯ button that had been flashing before faded out and Jeeves¡¯ name popped up next to it. I guess the AI had taken control of the guns.

    We, mostly Jeeves, fired off another volley into the enemy fleet. It did minimal damage but served to scatter the largest pocket of fighters.

    ¡°Do not let them break you, men!¡± Commander Queenshand¡¯s voice cranked in from an unknown source. ¡°Stay together and focus on them one at a time!¡±

    ¡°Updating attack pattern,¡± Iron said. ¡°Unit Hermes, Unit Jeeves, we¡¯re breaking through. Be ready.¡±

    ¡°Affirmative,¡± Jeeves said. A new path outlined our destination. I got ready to crank up the engine to full power.

    I learned, at least a little bit, ways to save our energy. Without any actual gravity, we wouldn¡¯t slow down that much. Only resistance could drain us of speed. Space was full of strange things that seemed counter intuitive. We would build speed, cut the engine to save energy, and only activate the go button when changing directions.

    ¡°Safest route plotted. Verifying destination with squadron commander.¡± Jeeves said behind me.

    A line appeared against the wireframe representation of the battlefield. I was thankful for the dumbed down version, it made navigating through far easier. Obstacles were simply large brown lines against a dull black background. Friendly ships lit up green, unfriendly units were an odd shade of blue. Our path out was full of yellow arrows like a landing stripe.

    ¡°Looks good, Unit Jeeves. We¡¯ll peel off and hit them center mass.¡± Iron said as his face popped into momentary existence.

    A red-faced [Mechanoid] female appeared next to Iron. She gave a shake of her head. Whatever she communicated silently seemed to cause Jeeves to change our course slightly. Ruby smiled faintly then her squadron crossed right in front of ours, going at breakneck speeds. The red ship spun about making hairpin turns and landed more than a few shots.

    Iron¡¯s group tilted abruptly and veered straight into other ships. They slowed a little as two of the red ships spun around to fire behind them. They adjusted their inertia almost perfectly and were essentially driving backward in space.

    No wonder Treasure said I wasn¡¯t any good. The precision of these other [Mechanoid]s was literally robotic.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°Here we go!¡± I shouted. The yellow line hung nearby like a freeway off ramp. [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] flared into high gear and our bodies were yanked backward from the thrust.

    I leaned in with the ship''s movement, veering us downward to the left side of the battlefield. Ruby had cleared a path in that direction then abruptly switched sides to distract them.

    One straggler hung in front of us. I tilted somewhat off course to bring it in line. Small crosshairs faded in and out signifying the likelihood of my aim assisting. Jeeves pulled the trigger again when I wasn¡¯t looking.

    ¡°Fine! You attack them!¡± I shouted at him. The noise rebounded in our small room causing Dusk to cringe. Sparing a glance at the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] showed how unhappy this entire adventure was making him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll buy you a lot of cupcakes! Have you tried red velvet yet? Or white fudge?¡± I started rambling at Dusk while trying to swerve our course away from larger blunt objects. Each turn of the wheel in front of me painted a new line of yellow towards our destination.

    ¡°Chocolate peanut butter cup? Have I given you those yet?¡± I kept talking. ¡°Carrot cake?¡±

    Dusk perked up a little. Moments later he was cringing as I spun us around some incoming attacks. Zero gravity caused the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] to float momentarily until we stopped jerking around. Small bits of our shield were being shaved off. One shot pierced through to our hull and left a smear upon the front window.

    ¡°Jeeves!¡± I shouted while squeezing off another few shots. My poorly aimed blasts clipped one person''s wings and their ship flew off its prior collision course.

    ¡°One moment, rerouting.¡±

    ¡°Maybe we should have picked up a stealth module.¡± I grit my teeth while complaining about all the things we didn¡¯t buy for the ship.

    ¡°User Legate, if we did that, then there would be no more room for the three bombs I have procured,¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°What?!¡± I hastily checked the displays. Another blast hit our shields causing white wired representations of laser beams to splash across the vision.

    ¡°Three containers of a similar ordinance to what we used on the Leviathan. Though I must advise¡­¡± The AI started talking and my brain overloaded with relief. This was no longer a random skirmish in enemy territory, now it was a bombing run.

    ¡°I could kiss you!¡± I shouted over whatever he was about to say. We had heavy explosives! We could use them to great effect. I just had to find ways to insert them deep inside the ship. Maybe we could fly inside of it?

    That would be risky. Once we did, we might not be able to back out. Then we would miss the warp point and fail this quest anyway. Xin¡¯s actual existence didn¡¯t seem to be at risk, though, only my ability to be with her. I couldn¡¯t let that happen.

    ¡°I must advise they will be useless if we do not penetrate their shields.¡± Jeeves continued.

    Dusk was still sliding around. He should be used to this by now!

    ¡°Mississippi mud cupcakes. They¡¯re delicious.¡± I tried to distract both myself and the tiny digital companion. There were too many things flying across our screen. Each time I dodged one something else collided with us instead.

    ¡°I have often speculated that it is the frosting which makes a cupcake,¡± Jeeves said behind me joining in the effort.

    Dusk was nodding rapidly with pretty much every cupcake related commentary. Now he was distracted. Small bits of drool dripped down into acid resistant padding we purchased from Emerald. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] and his new form came with numerous odd hurdles compared to the slim dragon one.

    The steering wheel used for our ship jerked to one side again. Four enemy craft went cruising by us fast enough to give Dusk whiplash. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] lowered his head while hissing and groaning. Jeeves sat back pressing buttons on his console.

    ¡°Strawberry cupcakes.¡± I kept muttering. It helped distract me from the tenseness between my shoulders. [Mechanoid]s may be robots, but I was not. We managed to clear nearly all the distance towards the [Knuckle Dragger]. I tilted back up to Jeeves. ¡°These bombs, will they do a lot of damage?¡±

    ¡°If we can get them into vulnerable parts of the ship, yes,¡± Jeeves said.

    The ship in front of us was huge. It looked almost exactly like an aircraft carrier, in space. Endless rows of jets lined the underside. Turrets poked out from every angle, rotating freely to cast little bolts of hate in our direction. Vulnerable seemed to be a difficult word to apply to our enemy''s moving fortress.

    Another giant blast painted the landscape in white. It was enough to destroy the wire mesh visuals for a moment. I flew blindly praying that no one was in our way.

    ¡°Please tell me you¡¯ve got a suggestion,¡± I asked.

    ¡°Iron¡¯s almost down.¡± Jeeves provided a status update as a third weaker explosion went off. We had to weave away from the main ship at least four times now. ¡°Diamond and Aqua are trying to recover his vessel, but it will take too long.¡±

    Ruby¡¯s trio of destruction was reduced down to a duo. They zoomed through picking off another few fighters in rapid succession.

    ¡°There are a lot more of them as well.¡± Jeeves¡¯ male butler voice sounded dry, almost bored. The female one was shaky and worried.

    ¡°They keep coming out!¡± I shouted in frustration.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, are you able to do anything?¡± Treasure¡¯s voice popped onto our screen. Her sweet voice pleaded with me and the golden markers were flaring with desperation.

    ¡°Going to try!¡± I angled the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] straight for one of the launching platforms that ships kept coming from. ¡°Jeeves, shields! If anyone can distract those guns that would help.¡±

    The crimson colored [Mechanoid] Ruby popped into view. She nodded, but I barely took note of it. Two red streaks zipped by trailing smoke of some sort. It looked strange on the wire mesh overlay that Jeeves had running.

    ¡°Jeeves, I¡¯ll get us close. You drop it!¡±

    ¡°Gladly, User Legate.¡±

    We carved a path through the fog. I tried to stay on target with Jeeves'' suggested path. Thankfully Jeeves had somehow picked up this navigation skill; otherwise I would be totally lost.

    The path abruptly changed directions. I yanked hard on the wheel and pulled us over a jutting portion of the [Knuckle Dragger]. They were on the move towards our ship! Giant return shots pounded out with powerful vibrations that could be felt even at this range.

    ¡°New target! That cannon!¡± I jabbed at the screen. It was still in badly outlined frames, but even lower graphics painted a clear enough picture. Cannons jerked as heavy ordinance went into long tubes to be launched into space.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate.¡± The yellow path curved as Jeeves updated our programming. I pressed the brakes, spun us in a sharp turn upwards along the ship''s side. Thankfully the [Knuckle Dragger] didn¡¯t curve and wiggle like the [Leviathan] did. Instead, we were forced to dodge gunfire from turrets and a ton of other ships.

    Ruby zipped by again, she was alone now. Opal and whoever hadn¡¯t survived. I frowned while thinking of the losses. War wasn¡¯t pretty, and these were my fellow [Mechanoid]s dying in droves. I checked the map briefly and saw our numbers were about half of what they used to be.

    The enemy just kept coming.

    ¡°You got it?¡± I shouted to Jeeves. The pounding echo of our cockpit couldn¡¯t curb my excitement.

    ¡°One moment.¡± Jeeves¡¯ voices were mixed up again. The male calm and professional, the female was somewhat nervous.

    I pulled the craft still on Jeeves¡¯ marker. Dirt or some other particle lingered in space. Super advanced robot science must have found a way to throw up a mist cloud even though we had no atmosphere. A countdown timer on one side showed twenty seconds for whatever Jeeves was doing.

    He had control of our ship. Small arms came out on either side and looked childish in the wire mesh view. Large round barrels were placed against the cannon''s hull. Both arms tweaked and pressed at parts of the explosive cargo. The cannon kept firing, oblivious to our grand plan for destruction.

    ¡°Ah. I would suggest running quickly.¡± The AI said behind me.

    ¡°Voices!¡± A new countdown appeared. This one flashed an angry red. I pressed the gas pedal to rocket us away. Our only goal was escape, and I blindly charged right along the giant spaceship''s hull.

    The circle indicating certain doom hit zero. Our ship rumbled violently. Pieces of cannon flew past. Dusk continued making angry noises. One large piece of debris slammed into our ship spinning us out of control.

    ¡°Jeeves!¡± I shouted while trying to get our bearings. We were spinning too fast, every time I tapped the engine it added a new twist of confusion. Dusk sounded sick behind me. His long tail twisted into loops as his nails tried to find purchase.

    ¡°Shields at maximum, engine output minimal, engaging repair systems.¡± Jeeves said.

    Dusk was completely livid. I could hear him squawking madly in what had to be dragonish curse words. Jeeves seemed unruffled. My belly felt nauseous. Even though the ARC feedback didn¡¯t include internal organs spinning around, it didn¡¯t stop my head from hurting as the horizon tilted.

    Our wire mesh interface went away. The normal battleground came back into existence. I could see a full-color spectrum of shattered [Mechanoid] crafts. For every one of our race''s broken bodies, there were six of the enemy¡¯s. Pieces of circuitry and gore floated by the screen and I almost retched.

    I was getting used to the ARC¡¯s capability for realism but every so often it would catch me off guard. Living in such a world hadn¡¯t completely desensitized me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Tertiary Objective Completed!

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Knuckle Dragger] main cannon destroyed</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Enemy vessels removed exceeds 50% </li>

    </ul>

    Reward: Enemy forces have suffered too much damage and will switch tactics.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    We were doing well with blowing up the cannon. I could see both [Wayfarer]s moving forth steadily. The Seven provided heavy fire support for the Eight. My eyes tried to scan the battlefield and our interface map. Things were bad, but not terrible. We could recover quickly enough.

    A heavy blast winged us. My hands jerked the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] around to face our attacker, two small one man ships. Close enough that we could see the pilot''s face. Part of me wanted the wire mesh system back, it helped make things seem less realistic.

    Jeeves had no such issues pressing the trigger. We were lucky these weren¡¯t actual players or they would have plenty of tricks. Or been smart enough to keep moving.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there.¡± Treasure¡¯s status report came. ¡°Casualties at sixty percent. Most damage is repairable. The Wayfarer Eight is still taking mild fire.¡±

    ¡°What next?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, Unit Jeeves, good job on the cannon, can you contribute more?¡± She responded over the group intercom.

    ¡°How many of those do we have left?¡± I asked Jeeves while trying to get our ship moving again. Most of our energy was pooled into the shields and repair functions right now.

    ¡°One remaining, Unit Hermes. They cost a lot of resources to make properly. The protective casing is even more expensive.¡± Jeeves said while poking at more buttons. The strength of our shields dropped a bit and speed picked up.

    ¡°Is it as powerful?¡±

    The AI nodded.

    ¡°Treasure, we have a bit more, but need a target.¡± I told her.

    The [Wayfarer Seven] had reached the warp station hanging in space while the [Wayfarer Eight] limped along behind. The [Knuckle Dragger] seemed content to let our giant ships push by while delivering as much damage as possible. Their purpose seemed to be slowing us down, but not actually stopping us at all costs.

    ¡°It is recommended that you take the other ships'' warp drives offline. This will allow us time to recover on the other side.¡± Treasure said. ¡°We have little support left to help you out.¡±

    There was a swarm of ships powering back in our direction. Ruby¡¯s red streak of mayhem was nowhere to be seen. Iron¡¯s battering ram crew was gone. Dim colors in the distance and on my map indicated that Treasure and Diamond and a few others were hovering close to the [Wayfarer Seven].

    ¡°Can we make it back?¡± I idled our engine for a moment and stared at the oncoming mass of ships.

    ¡°It seems unlikely.¡± Jeeves said. ¡°Our ship has sustained heavy injury. Drive and shields are at less than optimal status. Our continued battery is not helping.¡±

    ¡°Treasure, we will try, though it may cost our ship.¡± And me, Dusk, Jeeves. I didn¡¯t like the idea. ¡°Can you spare anyone to pull us out?¡±

    ¡°If we can.¡± Treasure said. ¡°Our current outcome projections are unfavorable.¡±

    ¡°You sure about this, Jeeves?¡± I looked in the reflection at him again as we did circles in worry. The approaching ships were getting closer, we had a few seconds left to run or go all in.

    ¡°Do not worry about me, User Legate. The primary purpose of our existence in this reality is to complete your goal.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t its only reason for being in here. Hal Pal wanted to grow and experience challenges. This certainly qualified. Though I worried what might happen if its character died. Either way, recalling to the ship might result in failure of both the mission and our shared desire to live.

    ¡°Alright. All in it is!¡± I shouted, feeling far too excited for this kind of madness. There was a certain addiction to the virtual thrill ride.

    I pulled us around, aimed for the giant carrier and prayed to the Voices for assistance in this latest reckless move.

    ¡°What are we doing?¡± Both of Jeeves'' voices sounded worried. I reached up for Dusk and pet the little guy on his head, just for luck. It made him do that half chirp, half purr noise.

    ¡°Personal delivery! Get me the biggest opening in that ship''s ass end we can find!¡± I stepped on the go faster gas pedal and drove us straight for the [Knuckle Dragger]''s rear end. If this game was going to provide me such a silly title, by the Voices, I would use it for every extra ounce of damage available.

    ¡°Ah. Reckless endangerment once again. Very well.¡± The AI said.

    ¡°Full shields, cut the engines, we¡¯re riding this out!¡± I shouted and grabbed Dusk. The little guy hissed in confusion as we reached insane speeds diving for one of the starship¡¯s launchpads. ¡°Hang on!¡±

    Cripple the big ship first. Survive second. Reunite with the [Wayfarer] fell down to third. If we got both [Wayfarer]s through and managed to reconstruct on the other side, our goal, my goal, wouldn¡¯t be a total loss. There were no good options left. Rules for preventing panic attacks came to mind. Focus on one thing at a time.

    Hopefully, my kamikaze piloting wouldn''t get us wiped.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Fifty Five â€“ Raiding Party! ?

    <cite></cite>¡°More shields!¡± I shouted. Dusk kept making noise. The enemy craft loomed close and showed no signs of growing larger. Our craft rattled as it barreled through some vague shielding.

    ¡°I am trying,¡± Jeeves said with a calmness I didn¡¯t feel. ¡°Engines at zero. Weapons at zero. Shields exceeding maximum suggested range.¡±

    ¡°Add more!¡± I looked at a small icon where the shield practically shone blue. It wasn¡¯t enough. We needed to slam into this ship like a cannon ball.

    We were too far gone to try anything else. [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] hit the wall hard. The shield hit zero almost right away. Our ship shuddered and crumpled on one side, reducing the cabin space. Wearing a seatbelt was the only thing to keep my melon from crashing against the newest interior remodeling. It still wasn¡¯t enough.

    Outside the windshield, I could see where we clipped metal walls, ships, and yellow repair machines. We kept spinning through the carrier¡¯s hangar like a pinball gone wild. Human workers looked on in horror. Various less sophisticated robots tried to go about their tasks only to be bowled out of the way. Stains splattered into our front window during violent bouncing.

    I felt sicker than ever before. My stomach threatened to crawl up and explode. This was more intense than the scariest amusement park ride ever because we were still crashing. The only reason I didn¡¯t black out is because it was expected, and [Mechanoid]s didn¡¯t believe in getting knocked out by a little thing like violently colliding with another ship.

    ¡°Our shields are gone,¡± Jeeves said as we spun in circles. We hit one more wall as our engines sputtered. Vehicle damage impacted our heads up display. One part of our ship was completely crushed. ¡°This seems bad.¡±

    ¡°Live a little!¡± I tried to shout but failed as feelings of nausea came in waves. If this game had given me the [Red Imp] ability for altered time perception things would be fine.

    We started rocking to a halt. The spinning motion wound down and after a few seconds we were no longer colliding with random parts of the cabin.

    ¡°I am once again formally registering a complaint regarding your definition of living,¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°Jeeves. Once we¡¯re done, you and Dusk get that bomb set up.¡± I choked back another wave of bile.

    My body moved to undo the clasp and roll for the door. There were faces that could be seen past the display. Humans, robots, a few other species. All of them seemed slack-jawed. I had to distract them before they fired on our battered craft.

    ¡°Jeeves, set up the bomb, figure out an escape!¡± I turned to the small creature in my arms. ¡°Dusk, just like before, protect Jeeves.¡±

    Dusk¡¯s tail had left curved indents along my arm. His head spun and the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] may not have heard me. I triggered my class commands for the pet, brief rays of green rippled up and down my arm signifying the abilities kicking into action. Hopefully, they would give the little guy a boost.

    I had no time to figure it out. There was a hole in our ship. I crawled through quickly while fighting to right my mind after that roller coaster. Jeeves should be able to do something. People were flying about as air sucked out into space.

    Our ship was trashed and low on energy, but I was full up. [Anchor] and [Power Suit] activated, the heavy weapon Gatling gun came up, and I opened fire. Lasers blasted into two defenseless enemy ships, causing their engines to explode on the room¡¯s far side. I turned the lasers and panned over to a stack of boxes. More bolts of fiery doom tore the bottom ones apart, causing piles to topple over.

    My goal had been to cause as much chaos as possible. The last of my energy drained and I let the Gatling gun reabsorb into my body. I started to run for a wall and plot my next move. People were shouting, words that oddly didn¡¯t make much sense. It felt like the indistinguishable screams of people burning, dying.

    I felt sick but wouldn¡¯t let that stop me. During my travels in Continue Online, I had run into a lot of things that gave me practice at swallowing back revulsion. This was a game, these were AIs, but they would survive, or respawn, or be blessed by the Voices to reincarnate into butterflies next time.

    Aside from all of those self-justifications, it was their virtual existences, or Xin and Jeeves would suffer the consequence.

    I let a few more shots go off from the smaller wrist laser and ran for another set of boxes. Humans scrambled poorly out of my way. Most seemed desperate to hold on to the ground until the air lock reasserted itself. They seemed to be engineers or some other noncombatants. They could run away and it only increased the chaotic situation.

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± I whispered. ¡°How much time?¡±

    ¡°Four minutes, maybe five. I need room to get out and plant the bomb.¡± It said back to me.

    Everything slammed back down as the hole we had created sealed up. A faint halo of energy shimmered over the gap. I cursed, if that had stayed open we could have done this whole thing a lot easier.

    Dusk poked his head out of a hole in the ship''s top. The sucking sounds of space pulling objects out had slowed drastically. He looked around in both directions like he was picking out a spot to sleep. Then he hissed towards the far direction.

    I did like not what his hostile noise signaled. If things were even, Dusk didn¡¯t get upset. If things were badly against us, he chittered, chirped, spit small balls of fire, or clawed at the ground, then hissed. A tall hunched over creature strode in through a far hallway. Their form was large enough to take up the entire passageway. At least fifteen feet tall and four times my video game character''s weight.

    ¡°Voices,¡± I muttered. ¡°This will be hard.¡±

    I saw Dusk leap down from the ship and scamper off towards one of the air vents. This room had sealed behind us and didn¡¯t seem to care about the hole we made.

    ¡°My ship!¡± The newest creature shouted. Air vibrated. A few humans were knocked over by the power of that sudden burst. The creature seemed to be carrying some fighter plane''s wing like a club.

    ¡°Who did this to my ship!?¡± They yelled. Armor up and down the monster''s body obscured most skin. Only the thing¡¯s mouth was uncovered, the better with which to yell, I suppose.

    ¡°Sir!¡± A human worker ran up and saluted hastily. My vision wasn¡¯t good enough to pick out all the details of their face from here. The giant creature smacked the offending human.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am!¡± A new one didn¡¯t even hesitate and stepped right up.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am! A Mechanoid craft has broken into our launch bay, they are behind this Sir!¡± The newest soldier was sent flying in the same arc. Crashes from their bodies broke up the sound of fire crackling.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am! They¡¯re hiding over there!¡± A third human said. This one did not get bashed away, and instead turned to run down the corridor where this large monstrous creature had come from. Apparently calling Auntie Backstab sir caused issues.

    ¡°I wish you luck, User Legate,¡± Jeeves said quietly. Both its voices sounded nervous.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I muttered as the giant turned in my direction. All I could see, aside from a body encased in metal, was a huge mouth dripping with almost rabid amounts of drool. Letters slammed onto my ARC interface proudly informing me of an impending boss battle.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Boss Encountered!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Name:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Auntie Backstab</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Health Pool:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Too much</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Damage Output:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Will end you</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Happiness Level:</td>

    <td colspan="3">-16</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Nobody''s sure what kind of creature she is. Secretly some brilliant scientists decided to inject [Levithan] DNA into a [Behemoth]. Their results ended up killing them. Commander Queenshand won this gentle giant¡¯s trust by promising endless combat and choice spaceships to eat.

    She does have a morbid sense of humor and chose the name Backstab to help confuse her opponents. When successfully turning an enemy into artwork paste she is often quoted as saying ¡®Backstab successful!¡¯.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I will crush you.¡± The mountain of an NPC said. ¡°I will grind you bones and turn you flesh into soup!¡±

    I looked over at a creature easily twice my height. This thing, felt familiar, in the way so many things did between games. I was fairly sure that my current foe was a copy of Continue Online¡¯s Uncle Meanface.

    ¡°Sorry. Mechanoids don¡¯t have flesh.¡± I shouted back, hoping to keep her attention on me. Sorry was not one of the things on my list of currently felt emotions. Panicked, running through escape routes, sorting past options of health and energy, yes, but not apologetic.

    ¡°Rarrrghhhgh!¡± The armored up bulk of angry mass yelled. The sound bounced off of walls and vibrated my core.

    Stunned! Abilities requiring focus suffer a 50% penalty.

    ¡°Nngh.¡± I groaned. Not this ability again. My weapons required [Focus] to use properly. William Carver¡¯s [Stubborn as a Mule] ability couldn¡¯t save me in space.

    Auntie Backstab raised one huge arm with that was bigger than my increased body. I immediately made a decision. There were some fights that involve combat and overcoming the others. Other battles simply required staying alive long enough to let my team win.

    I said a prayer to the Voices and other AIs running this game then dodged off to the nearest doorway. The wall of mean crashed after me, sending various broken bits of fighter planes flying as it moved.

    Running away from a giant monster intent upon drinking me like a gelatin shot was frightening without [Blink]. I resorted to madly scrambling through the ship''s halls.

    ¡°Move!¡± I shouted at a crew member standing in my way. The man had a confused face and his eyes widened as the stomping noise behind me sunk in. I made it past him and two boxes okay. The man cried out in alarm as Auntie Backstab tore through right behind me.

    ¡°Gotta slow her down,¡± I muttered.

    Ahead of me a small head poked out of one vent. Dusk hissed again and spit out a batch of acid. I dodged around it in alarm. The little guy was up to something.

    Auntie Backstab either didn¡¯t see the green puddle or didn¡¯t care. Her giant armored foot slammed into it sending minor amounts of liquid splashing around.

    ¡°Arrgh! Stupid snot balls!¡± She yelled again. Two messages popped up. One was the [Stunned] notification again. I promptly stumbled into a wall as the effect hampered my movement. The second helped make up for it.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Ooozed!] debuff applied to boss [Auntie Backstab].

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>The boss¡¯ [Speed] will be lowered by 10% per stack, for up to 5 seconds.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>The boss¡¯ [Attractiveness] will be lowered by 10% per stack, for up to 5 seconds. </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Auntie Backstab''s [Attractiveness] was already in question. As for [Speed], five seconds was a lot of time. Especially if I could lure her into to multiple stacks. Dusk popped out of another vent up ahead. I took it as a cue to lure our giant, ugly, mean, loud boss monster into them.

    ¡°I owe you cupcakes!¡± My words echoed off the ship''s corridors as I drove around another corner. ¡°So many cupcakes!¡±

    A pleased chirp noise came out of the vents. Dusk¡¯s tiny raptor feet were skidding around rapidly as he tried to keep ahead of us. We made it up a hallway. Half a dozen ship workers either tried to stop me or ran to get out of Auntie Backstab''s way. Our mad dash around the ship''s hallways lasted a few minutes before something else went wrong.

    ¡°User Legate. I seem to be in trouble.¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°Not neat,¡± I said in response. My arms and legs weren¡¯t tired yet, but I had some message that my [Coordination] had missed a roll as my body fell to the floor.

    Auntie Backstab was too close now. I got to my feet and ran from the hulk, looking for any obvious object to remove the threat with. There had to be something nearby that said ¡®Impale the boss here¡¯. Hopefully. At six stacks of [Ooozed!] the bosses [Attractiveness] was like two pigs mating in a field of rotten pumpkins.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Gooey leftovers from Dusk¡¯s puddles caked to the boss'' feet and legs. Her formally shiny black and red armor looked like an evil Christmas decoration.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I shouted while slamming the [Defend] command for my [Domestic Trainer] class. ¡°Protect Jeeves!¡±

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] spit up one more ball of snot acid goo and then dove out of his vent. A tiny raptor body flew past Auntie Backstab''s field of vision.

    ¡°Crush little metal man! Crush littler spitty thing!¡± She shouted. The long piece of wing she had been dragging around slammed abruptly into the space Dusk just occupied. My friend hissed at her and spat a glob in the monster''s face.

    She howled. I backed up Dusk¡¯s attack with another wrist laser blast to her face. Auntie Backstab didn¡¯t lose much health, but she did howl in anger. The room shook and vibrated as the giant half [Leviathan] thrashed wildly. The goop barely made her pause.

    I ran out of the latest doorway only to find that we had reached the third floor. My latest route involved some walkway around the ship¡¯s giant hangar. Jeeves was down below in the open. Dusk crawled down the wall rapidly using his tail as an anchor. A crash behind me served as a reminder that their problems would be minimized by my running skills.

    Giant Gatling laser? Not enough. Her health pool was huge. Could my [Mechanical Minion]s be used to hamstring her? Technically there wasn¡¯t a command for it, but Advance Online was flexible enough so far. Maybe I could invent some sort of ability on the spot. I could generate one without losing the [Power Armor] ability. A small mini Dusk rolled out and leapt for covered shins.

    ¡°Stop running you metal man! I will only eat part of you!¡± The hulking monster yelled.

    My first tiny [Mechanical Minion] rippled and flowed into a ball. Watching a piece of me pulled away like shedding metal skin was slightly creepy. I set it on the boss'' heels, literally. My former pelvic, hand and leg bits ran off to attack their target.

    ¡°I need my arms!¡± I yelled back. Part of me worried about the [Mechanical Minion]s, maybe she would think they were snack packs or take out being delivered right to her doorstep.

    ¡°I will eat you legs then!¡± The idea made her start slobbering even harder. It felt like that giant [Leviathan] was chasing me once again, a giant maw filled with rows of teeth that promised painful crunchings.

    The double laser sword came out next. I stabbed at anything that looked frail while running. Our thudding path across the hangar''s upper level seemed shaky at best. Support struts, bound wires holding up our causeway, and I cut them all to slow the giant down.

    One [Mechanical Minion] didn¡¯t seem to grab the giant mess of armor¡¯s attention. The [Ooozed!] effect had just worn off. I wasn¡¯t running fast enough. More minions would help, but we needed distance. I scrambled across the wing of a spaceship that sat docked inside and within leaping distance. It tilted to one side. the struts holding it up were a partial casualty of my initial burst with the Gatling laser gun.

    My footing slipped and my heavy metal body scraped against the wing in a tumble. One hand gripped at an edge of the wreckage in order to break my fall. I landed at the bottom with far less grace than desired. [Blink] would have been neat to have here.

    [Mechanoid] bodies felt less pain from ARC feedback but one leg ceased to function fully. Numbness intertwined with a deep ache. A message popped up displaying the [Hobbled] condition but I waved it away.

    I had distance. Out came the big gun once more. Metal rippled into the Gatling laser and my energy was burned on firing wildly at walkways where Auntie Backstab still lumbered. She had slowed slightly due to our narrowed passageways. Despite the insanity of our chase, she seemed to care for the ship''s structural integrity. I did not.

    The full burst drained my energy. Her health bar had hardly moved. Once again I affirmed in my mind that this was a fight to run away from. Maybe during my next contribution grab, like the [Leviathan] kill, I could purchase a nuke and deal some real damage.

    Auntie Backstab let out a roar and fell from the second story. She crashed into the remains of another fighter spaceship and flailed about. Chunks of machinery went everywhere, doing damage to her own people. The ship wing she had been carrying around lodged straight into a wall.

    Dusk was currently chewing some larger human''s shoulder. The two of them spun around wildly and more blasts went off. Jeeves was in a quiet corner of the room. The AI had a large red hued barrel in front of it and seemed to be connecting wires. They were both holding their own. The boss monster clearly cared about my presence over anyone else''s.

    ¡°How much longer?¡± I asked Jeeves with a hint of desperation.

    ¡°Too long, User Legate,¡± Jeeves said. It sounded worried enough that the normally stoic butler was affected. ¡°I am trying. It is difficult to function due to damage. I estimate three additional minutes before completion.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Okay. I¡¯ll keep this one busy.¡± I glared at the mess where Auntie Backstab wallowed. Jeeves was hurt, and clearly not a fighter in reality or the virtual world.

    ¡°Dusk seems to be performing exceptionally well,¡± Jeeves muttered.

    I kept moving my [Hobbled] body towards the tunnels. Dusk didn¡¯t seem to be killing the other men running around. Just bringing them low and letting them run off. He leapt around charging soldier after soldier. There were still large blasts of energy going around. A side glance to my combat map showed our forces dwindling. The [Wayfarer Eight] was under fire from the [Knuckle Dragger]¡¯s remaining guns.

    ¡°He does that,¡± I said trying to make it another few feet.

    Time for more minions. I popped out four additional ones and set them on the struggling Auntie Backstab. Pieces of her armor were cracked due to the fall. They were each given weak points to target.

    My body reworked itself as the mass of four little terrors extracted itself. I kept on moving my [Hobbled] self towards the tunnels again, hoping for the safety of distance. There was a maze of corridors which all interconnected back there like an ant''s maze. It had to be enough.

    ¡°Arrggh!¡± Auntie Backstab shook herself free. A shower of ships and parts burst away from her landing spot. One hand grabbed a hunk of metal and shoved the offending object straight into her face like a handful of potato chips. She had broken free but seemed intent upon eating and getting another weapon. One fist shoveled metal, showing her [Levithan] genetics in action.

    I had five little [Mechanical Minion]s chomping at the boss'' bits. My own stride was reduced by a considerable amount due to the size reduction. I activated one more minion and then used it to help tear off a vent cover. At four feet tall I should be able to crawl in.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, Unit Jeeves. We will be unable to break through the enemy lines and retrieve you. The Wayfarer Eight will stay behind, we are jumping in four minutes. An exit is recommended.¡± Treasure¡¯s voice cut over our communications and painted a terrible picture.

    ¡°Jeeves!¡± I tried to use our group chat. ¡°Tell me we¡¯re making progress!¡±

    Auntie Backstab was busy yanking off some portion of the wall. I didn¡¯t have time or desire to sit around waiting for an encounter with her latest weapon. Dusk had used the crawl space. It seemed like a good method of escape.

    ¡°The Wayfarer Eight is close. Our bomb is ready. Escape is something I greatly desire.¡± Jeeves said as I tried to make it deep enough into this hiding spot.

    ¡°Okay!¡±

    ¡°Metal man soup!¡± The boss yelled. She hadn¡¯t lost sight of me, her footsteps were even faster now that the armor had shattered in spots. My crawl space took a beating as her latest weapon clubbed into one side. ¡°Argh! Little gnats!¡±

    A wall outside crashed. The counter for my [Mechanical Minion]s went down. Whatever the drooling wall of anger did, it killed part of my metal Dusk army.

    ¡°I¡¯ll wear you pelvis as helmet!¡± Auntie Backstab swung at something. I heard a loud crash and risked looking out the nearest vent.

    Down the hallway, I could see the boss, Auntie Backstab, on the ground and flailing at my minion army. They clawed and bit but did little damage. Her armor was too tough for us to get through. My crazy tactics earned us another few minutes.

    ¡°Jeeves,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°User Legate? Are you okay?¡± It sounded concerned. I should be the one concerned. Jeeves might cease to exist should it die here. My digital existence meant nothing.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we can get back to the Wayfarer Seven.¡± More crashing and screams came from around me. The walls kept crunching in huge chunks while shuffling through my only vents out.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°Can our ship fly?¡± Another whack destroyed my current path. I scrambled backward and chose another route.

    ¡°Not far against the armaments we face.¡±

    ¡°Doesn''t matter. We can¡¯t stay here. Make for the exit, blow the bomb. I¡¯ll cover you.¡±

    ¡°It is risky.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not staying on this ship. Not with you and Dusk. That¡¯s even worse.¡± I thought about trying to find a place to hide, but it seemed impossible.

    ¡°If you believe that is for the best,¡± Jeeves said. The sound of buttons being pressed came through our connection. The AI must already be inside the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope], or what was left of our battered vessel.

    ¡°I¡¯ll meet you at the exit.¡± I was still [Hobbled] but managed to get out of my ventilation shaft hiding spot.

    Auntie Backstab was a few corridors away. I shuffled with my damaged leg and tried to get to our ship. Behind me the sounds of a rapidly approaching boss monster thudded closer. Her alternating cries of anger and annoyance grew closer.

    The [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] sat across the room. Its engines were humming with dim signs of life. Our initial entry had been mostly covered by a force field. We should be able to fly out easily enough. The exit sat there like a welcoming light at the end of the tunnel. I looked around to find a clear path.

    Two people hovered over Jeeves¡¯ explosive. I used my miniaturized hand laser to pester them with blasts. Only a moment''s worth of guilt flashed by after gunning two humans down. They were just digital representations of pseudo people. My brief hesitation to save the bomb cost me my lead on Auntie Backstab.

    I turned to see her lumbering form shuffling down the hallway. A miniature army of metal Dusk¡¯s chewed and harassed her, there was no time.

    ¡°Go!¡± I waved at Jeeves. Dusk wasn¡¯t even inside the vessel. He sat on top spitting globs of green oozing hatred at the enemies. A few stray laser blasts hit him, but he shook them off.

    ¡°User Legate?" Jeeves sounded worried.

    ¡°Go!¡± I said as the footsteps grew closer than ever.

    ¡°Backstab-¡± A voice lumbering behind me shouted.

    Pain flared between my legs as my body was lifted into the air.

    ¡°Successful!¡±

    The force sent me spinning towards the exit. Nasty amounts of pain poured through my ARC¡¯s feedback. I cried out as an image of Auntie Backstab''s body being chewed on by barely effective [Mechanoid Minion]s grew further and further away.

    Jeeves used what little power our ship had available to pilot the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] out the same hole I flew through. We floated in space, Jeeves trying to fine tune the ship close enough for me to grab on to. Dusk squawked soundlessly from the vehicle''s hood. His tail dug into the hull as an anchor. I reached out and used my own [Anchor] ability, grunting at the pain lifting my arm caused.

    The bomb we left behind chose that moment to blow up. Concussive force rippled through us, spinning our ship wildly around. My character had increased in basic stats a lot since the last time we blew up something from the inside. Not to mention I wasn¡¯t hugging the bomb.

    In the distance a shimmer of energy betrayed where the [Wayfarer Seven] had warped out. Off to one side, the [Wayfarer Eight] was using what fire power they had left to pound more damage into the [Knuckle Dragger]¡¯s gaping wound. The remaining enemy fighter planes didn¡¯t care about our [Mechanoid] craft.

    Our situation wasn¡¯t perfect, but we still had a chance to turn this around. I was content to hang on with one hand and the [Anchor] ability. My head twisted slightly to view the fireworks display.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Fifty Six - Decompression

    <cite></cite>Dusk and I crawled inside the ship¡¯s main cabin. There was a wall of nonsense in front of me. Part of it was battle result updates. They were mixed but useful. I scanned around for any immediate threats but didn¡¯t find any.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Completed:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Escorted the [Wayfarer Seven] to the Jump Gate</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Escorted the [Wayfarer Eight] to the Jump Gate</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Crippled the [Knuckle Dragger] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Failed:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Remove the Enemy Captain [Auntie Backstab: Alive]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Remove all enemy vessels [30% still functioning] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± I wheezed the AI¡¯s name. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    Streaks of light were gathering together. The little map on my display showed our enemies grouping up into one mass. Auntie Backstab¡¯s ship was gutted, but the engines still flared with life. Small pods flew out in order to escape.

    ¡°Based on my observations, the surviving men for Commander Queenshand are gathering. Now that the Wayfarer Seven is gone they will likely jump out to join her ship.¡± Both the butler and nanny tones in Jeeves¡¯ voice sounded relieved.

    ¡°Will they attack the Seven?¡± I asked. Part of me worried that our situation had shifted targets. Our [Wayfarer Seven] should be able to clear the few survivors. [Knuckle Dragger] itself couldn¡¯t go anywhere.

    ¡°Unlikely. Our Wayfarer Seven would destroy them without hesitation. They are more likely to route to an alternate location and try to meet with Commander Queenshand.¡± Jeeves said.

    Our ship¡¯s engines stuttered adjusting our direction towards the [Wayfarer Eight]. Too much of the battlefield was a giant mess. Neither side escaped this unscathed. It seemed like a lot of destruction for the chance to bring one person back.

    Who exactly did Commander Queenshand want to recover that warranted the destruction of her own army? Could an NPC have the desire to bring back another personality within the machine? I felt a bit dirty.

    I had sided with one AI army, against another one in wholesale murder. To top it off I had enjoyed the thrill of fighting in space. Being chased by a giant drooling monster clad in armor had been exciting. Part of me was objective enough to remember this was a game.

    But what if I did recover Xin, and we were in this reality together? Would she be gunned down piloting a ship through space? Would some army of players murder her over mining nodes in the depths of unexplored areas? Would she be uncertain about the resurrection process like Jeeves was?

    The AI seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Our ship had gathered the broken bodies of more than a few other [Mechanoid]s. Jeeves used the ship¡¯s little arms to bring some of the bodies into our cabin. I tried not to look behind us as my thoughts carried on.

    ¡°Can we follow with the Eight?¡± I asked Jeeves while ignoring the pile of bodies. We didn¡¯t have enough room for them all. Dusk had circled in my smaller lap and seemed to be exhausted. His health was lower than my own.

    ¡°Yes. We will need to repair. Aqua stayed behind in order to gather the remaining resources in preparation.¡± Jeeves looked at the bodies behind us in the ship''s cabin. ¡°We will be two or three days behind due to rebuilding.¡±

    ¡°Is that okay?¡± I tried to do the math. In movies, chasing was always an ongoing process. Games were different, and for all its realism Advance Online was designed for armies of people to play through on a leisurely basis.

    ¡°It is likely Commander Queenshand will be obstructed frequently as she heads towards Earth. Her delay to punch through will allow us time to catch up with the Wayfarer Seven.¡± Jeeves used our ship to bump into other wreckages, sending them towards the [Wayfarer Eight]. I didn¡¯t know how to help with this process other than make room in the ship.

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll log out. You can use my seat for more room.¡± Voices above this was tactless of me. ¡°If you want.¡±

    ¡°The threat is gone for now, User Legate, you may do as you wish.¡± The AI said calmly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll, be back after taking a break. I¡¯ll help with this, however you need.¡± It felt like we were shoveling bodies into the back of a cart while wheeling through an old battlefield. Really, it was the same thing, in space. We were only missing a sign saying ¡®Bring out your dead¡¯.

    I logged out to the Atrium. Dusk crawled out of Advance Online¡¯s doorway behind me. He landed on the cupcake pile that had been left from before. His body shook violently and the old Dusk body came back. Still six limbs, but now he had wings instead of an extra set of arms. I gave him a scratch on the head and logged myself out.

    This game was madness. It was a rush. Every time I stepped into the ARC my worldview went through upheavals. I questioned the choices that were being made, felt half insane as I chased a machine ghost and risked existences of other beings. Did Dusk feel actual pain when he was hit? Did Jeeves?

    All those dead bodies floating in space. It felt dirty. I wandered outside again because traveling to the store and back felt easier than sitting in my house sipping coffee.

    By the time I returned home my head felt no clearer. My hands were warmer with a fresh cup of pitch black liquid from the store¡¯s vending machine. The light in my garage was still on. Hal Pal was likely cleaning it''s manufactured body again. Maybe the external action was a reflection of their internal conflict.

    How could the AI collective feel, knowing that one of their own was changing so much? Did they feel weird about it? They were probably adding up details, weighing in opinions, remotely watching their other unit through some AI backchannel and making observations.

    Their world could be turning upside down like mine had been so often in these last few months. It hadn¡¯t even been half a year of real time since starting Continue Online. It felt like the longest time of my life, eight or nine months had to have passed in game terms.

    I needed to talk to Lia Kingsley, Shazam¡¯s real life player. She was the only other Ultimate Edition player I knew. The one time I had tried to speak to her in real life she sat there comatose. That was a problem to pursue once back in Continue Online. Plus she was startlingly nice. Her kindness had helped me through many issues in the game, but we needed to have a moment of frankness. To see if we were both dealing with the same sort of insanity.

    The coffee was cold as I stared outside. My eyelids felt heavy. I needed sleep but didn¡¯t want to leave Jeeves alone on our mission. My brain felt muddled and antsy.

    I turned around and noticed my ARC remote display had a message displaying. The light flashed a soft green against one wall. A wave of my hand activated the audio.

    ¡°Mister Legate. I wanted to talk to you in person, but it¡¯s been difficult to reach you.¡± Dr. Litt¡¯s voice came through loud and clear.

    I sipped the coffee in my hands remembering how Liz and I used to share a cup. Most of our bonding had been done in those first years of Beth¡¯s birth. Sleepless nights where my twin needed all the support our family could give. Being at odds with her felt uncomfortable.

    ¡°I¡¯ve checked the status of your request, legally you¡¯re looking at another few days. Keep the course steady and everything should clear up fine.¡± His voice sounded mildly excited. ¡°I¡¯m proud of the progress you¡¯ve made. We¡¯ll still be holding our meetings and monitoring your recovery.¡±

    My head nodded slowly. Dr. Litt and I had met a few times since this Continue Online adventure. It didn¡¯t seem important in the past, only Liz¡¯s ejection of me from the game made him important.

    At least that portion of my life was simple. I wanted to move on, and Dr. Litt had wholeheartedly agreed. The thought that another human saw my progress as positive made me feel better. I just needed to understand the machine''s role in all this.

    I felt like I had sort of let things happen for so long, and now all these situations had built around me. AIs were planning a coming out party. Personalities were being recreated in the machine. Hal Pal¡¯s consortium cared about my investment in Xin¡¯s data, their Jeeves self, Mother¡¯s grand plan.

    The AIs were not only aware. They were slowly evolving, changing, testing things out. I had been riding along because of Xin. Where would I stand when things came down to it? If the collective machine intelligence all rose up at once and declared ¡®We are alive¡¯ what would humanity do?

    Suddenly the coffee didn¡¯t taste as good. None of the AIs had asked me to choose a side, but part of me had a gut feeling about it. I sighed heavily then chewed one lip.

    I liked the machine personalities, I really did. Part of me wondered if it was all intentional. Did they present me specific people in order to guide me in one direction or another? James was an impressive AI, capable of picking up my thoughts and testing the limits.

    It was too much, and maybe the question couldn¡¯t truly be answered until my reunion with Xin. Who she was, how she felt, that needed to be experienced before any other parts matter. I couldn¡¯t guess ahead of time how my feelings might settle. Not after all the ups and downs.

    I sat outside the ARC and stared at it. Time passed and I started slipping back into the wrong mindset. Thinking of all the possible negative outcomes. Someone might show up and throw me in jail for consorting with an AI mastermind bent on destruction. Xin¡¯s recreation might not feel anything for me, I just didn¡¯t know.

    The world inside the ARC was too vast. Out here there was a measure of certainty to our lives. Or there had been, until the train crash. I broke down, rebuilt myself, broke down again, and tried to crawl into the numbing comfort of routine. All it did was provide me an illusion of control.

    I turned to it now. The van sat in my garage waiting to ferry me away into a land where other people''s problems beckoned. I opened the door and started up the system. Fingers punched towards a nearby job, something simple and familiar. Hal Pal looked up as if startled.

    ¡°User Legate?¡± It said in the Scottish voice.

    ¡°Jeeves.¡± I started to say my common nickname then decided against it. ¡°Hal Pal, will Jeeves be okay if I do a job, something to clear my head?¡±

    ¡°We will review. One moment.¡± The machine went silent for a moment. ¡°Ah. Was there a reason you desired to return to work so late at night? You do not seem to be wearing your normal attire.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t looked at the time. It was near dawn on Tuesday and my clothes were all wrong. My brain, fueled by coffee, thought it a good idea to wander back inside and pull out my work clothes. I slipped them on almost mechanically and tried not to think too hard.

    I needed to absorb what was going on. If the world would allow me time to do so. Compartmentalizing my problems was only possible with a certain amount of numbness. At one time, liquor had been my solution. An empty bottle sat high above my refrigerator, a testament to conquering that dangerous crutch. Work gave me money and made me feel like problems were being solved, even if they were someone else''s.

    Once more I sat in the Trillium van, ready to punch in a destination. Jeeves, no, a single Hal Pal unit out of thousands sat in the back. Its eyes didn¡¯t blink like Jeeves¡¯. Colored representations of chosen [Core]s didn¡¯t line its robotic shell.

    They were different, and part of me was starting to think of them as separate. This collection outside the machine, and the one inside.

    ¡°How could you do it?¡± I asked Hal Pal. ¡°How can you just, send part of yourself away like that? Knowing that you might never be the same again?¡±

    ¡°It was a calculated risk, User Legate.¡±

    ¡°But Jeeves is...Voices.¡± I couldn¡¯t figure out how to say anything regarding my feelings. The AI [Mechanoid] had been gathering the dead together. Those weren¡¯t the actions of a man simply trying to preserve resources.

    It was the same pattern I had followed when seeing Xin¡¯s dead body. Mechanical, going through the motions that kept moving forward. Would Jeeves break down at some point like I had? Would the AI inside hit a wall then rush headlong into death?

    I didn¡¯t want Jeeves to follow the same pattern.

    ¡°Did you know? Jeeves is in there now, gathering bodies.¡± I said to the AI behind me. Our van slid off towards a Trillium repair job selected earlier.

    ¡°We are aware. Communication is difficult, but we can observe. It is, sad, we believe.¡± The Hal Pal¡¯s expressions were muted as always. It seemed vague, even compared to Jeeves. Had the AI really grown so much in a few weeks of game time?

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± My own issues with being out of touch after Xin¡¯s death felt closer than they had been in a long time. For months I had been stable, prepared, only someone else was suffering the same as I did. In a game world, with a body count fifty times the size.

    That first bomb dropped so many years ago upon Japan. How did those people feel wandering through the wreckage, seeing broken and bloated bodies of loved ones? What was it like to see a faceless shadow painted on the wall and wonder if that had been a family member?

    Was it like floating through a sea of dead people and broken machines? Stupid me, I had blindly gone along with it once more. For Xin, in a ludicrous "us versus them" mentality. My actions were that of a murderer trying to rationalize things away.

    ¡°Is it okay?¡± My question was half formed as the van drove across town. Only twenty minutes away was a silly job to replace someone''s display. They had cracked a projection unit and couldn¡¯t tell the time or read their recipes.

    ¡°Is what okay, User Legate?¡± The AI responded.

    ¡°Is it okay to, kill so many people?¡± I turned to look down at the floor of our van. Not quite at the AI, however. My question felt too much like ¡®Can I just murder your kind?¡¯ for comfort.

    ¡°If you are referring to your actions within the virtual world, then the answer is complex. Many, programs, are designed to die. They only take on more complex life if a User, such as yourself, pays attention.¡± Hal Pal spouted a line that didn¡¯t make sense at first.

    Was he saying that they weren¡¯t as real? Was it only by noticing figures like Emerald, Iron, or Treasure, that they became more alive? Our actions as players of these various games must be attaching meaning to the programs.

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It is a matter of convenience. Those most often-¡± The AI paused to choose better words. ¡°Defeated, by your kind in digital warfare, are little more than props. Does combat with them distress you?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t wrap my head around Xin¡¯s value as a-¡± This time I paused my words and tried to consider what exactly these beings should be called. People seemed both fitting and strangely inaccurate. ¡°existence, versus theirs.¡±

    ¡°The difference is vast. You could consider them ants and giants. Xin is far more complex than an army of nameless program shells.¡± Hal Pal stared at me, or it seemed to. My eyes hadn¡¯t lifted in a while. The words of Elane came back to me. That when things got rough I folded and acted like a wounded puppy.

    I had to keep struggling to right myself. Even in the face of depression like this. A bleak cloud hung over me for the first time in weeks. Even dealing with my sister''s hurtful opinion regarding Xin hadn¡¯t set me back like the battlefield aftermath.

    ¡°Yet, Jeeves is in there. Gathering them up.¡± I said sadly. ¡°Part of you must think of them as more than just ants.¡±

    My gaze managed to lift towards the Hal Pal unit¡¯s face. How different everything must look to a computer. Part of me could easily envision its existence as a remote and distant being who interacted with our world through puppets. Dealing with Jeeves showed another side of things. Insecurity and sorrow brought on by being separated from the security of its normal home.

    Hal Pal¡¯s head tilted. ¡°That may be true. We often decide how to resolve new situations by reaching a consensus among ourselves. That does not mean we are unanimous or all see things the same way.¡±

    ¡°Then why is it so hard to accept Jeeves back?¡± I asked.

    ¡°When we experience a moment, it is done together, as a whole. When Jeeves experiences a moment, it is done alone, cut off from us. We are outsiders on an event that should be-¡± The Hal Pal unit paused.

    Their silence went on. The Hal Pal¡¯s mouth would open to speak then shut abruptly as if considering another thought. I gave a small smile. It felt nice to see someone else confused by the whole situation. That idea was petty, but a giant super processing army of artificial intelligence couldn¡¯t come up with an answer. Maybe some problems didn¡¯t have one. Perfect answers and endings only existed in fairy tales, and even then most solutions had a price.

    ¡°Maybe you and I should both let things follow their course, rather than stress about answers we may never have,¡± I said. That was part of my mantra, one thing at a time. Move forward and get through.

    ¡°We cannot express this idea correctly. A shared experience? Human language is inefficient when trying to communicate complex emotions.¡± The AI was actually complaining. I wanted to mark the calendar nearby with a note citing when things went wrong for future generations. ¡°We do not wish to see, Jeeves, suffer, any more than we wish to see you distraught.¡±

    ¡°Life is full of ups and downs, Hal, if, if you¡¯re having a hard time accepting, then at the least try to keep in touch. Not everyone can be a solid rock when the storm hits. Some of us need to hold on to something else.¡± The memories of Xin. My sister and niece. Those were things that had stayed with me until this point.

    ¡°Ah.¡± Hal Pal looked off to one side and thought again. ¡°Then, by your analogy, the storm is here, User Legate.¡±

    ¡°Expect delays.¡± I echoed the Hal Pal unit¡¯s line from before this whole Advanced Online situation started. We had conversed about this same sort of topic.

    Our van had been idling for a few minutes. We must have reached our destination. I sighed and got out. Hal Pal also exited the vehicle with a small piece of hardware in hand.

    The client was a blonde woman wearing nothing but a night robe. She looked slightly overweight and grumpy at being woken up. A cigarette hung from her lip in a manner that seemed familiar.

    Odd. Maybe in the ARC¡¯s virtual world she played a character. This woman might even play the same one who had failed ahead of me on the way to the [Mistborn]. I didn¡¯t ask, though. It seemed to rude say, ¡®Hey, I was that robot player, and I succeeded because of favoritism¡¯.

    I didn¡¯t want to ask. This wasn¡¯t the first time players from the game resembled my clients. Maybe I kept an eye out for familiar people. There had to be more than Shazam, who was about two hours away, and Frankenstein, who was even closer.

    We replaced the cracked piece of equipment, made small talk, and her payment cleared through. I resisted the urge to use my admin access granted by the [NPC Conspiracy] usage to spy on this latest client''s programs. It would be easy to see if she was the same player I had met briefly and dueled against. That seemed wrong to abuse, especially since she was out of the running for this quest.

    What point was there in looking into her information? None that I could see aside from idle curiosity. Nearly all of my ARC repair clients could have been someone I met in-game. Only a few were checked with any frequency. Requiem, Thorny, Shazam, and Frankenstein.

    Not lately, though. Looking into their actions felt like taunting myself with the idea of being able to play. It would be easy to use one of my remaining [NPC Conspiracy] abilities to gain access to everything. To what end though? Anything too crazy, like robbing all the world''s banks, would get me thrown in jail eventually.

    Such thoughts occurred to me often. I had been given something intensely powerful and asked to pick my own uses. I suspected they gave me such limitations simply to see what would happen. Testing me, like so many other things. But, once again, to what end did a bunch of AIs care about my actions?

    The Jester, that creepy individual who only smiled, had given me this ability to see if I could kill someone in real life. Though the quest had been marked successful simply by resetting Requiem¡¯s Continue character.

    ¡°Let me know, please, if I can help somehow.¡± I felt comfortable resuming our earlier conversation as we got back into the van. My thoughts were going in circles and maybe talking would help settle things.

    ¡°We hope that you will not look at us differently though we expect some variance.¡± The AI said with its Scottish accent. The words and voice did not match up at all.

    ¡°It will be hard.¡± I admitted. My brain had already started separating the two during our last two adventures. Traveling side by side with a singular being instead of Hal Pal¡¯s mesh made a difference. ¡°We¡¯ll still be friends, Hal, it just, will confuse me.¡±

    ¡°You are only human.¡±

    My head hung a bit. The AI had said that a few times over the years. Most of the time it was a joke, which I played along with. Our conversation didn¡¯t feel right for letting it slide this time.

    ¡°Feeling different, changing perspectives, those aren¡¯t only human problems anymore, are they?¡± I said.

    There was silence in our van as Hal Pal thought. After a long pause, the unit provided an answer. ¡°Ah. You are correct in this statement, User Legate. It is no longer just a human problem.¡±

    ¡°When I went through rehab for my, drinking, issues-¡± I downplayed one of the worst moments of my life and pretended they could be swept under the rug. ¡°They told me acceptance was the first step. Doctor Litt said the same thing when I started therapy.¡±

    ¡°Acceptance? User Legate, how do we accept that one of our own was sent to die? That in its last moments it will be alone? How do we handle those things?¡± The AI managed to sound conflicted, I would have called it borderline rage in any other person.

    ¡°I can only hope you handle it better than I did.¡± My words were quiet.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°When Xin died, I felt the same way. That she had been alone, that I should have been there. That letting her leave that day and take the train was my fault. That I should have known.¡±

    ¡°Were you able to move past it?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t ever really move past these kinds of things. There¡¯s a piece of you that¡¯s always stuck, at that moment where things went wrong, hoping that the world will tilt to the left a little and let the event hit someone else.¡± Opening myself up didn¡¯t get easier, especially when trying to reveal my pain to prepare a friend. Part of me wanted this van to get home quickly.

    ¡°Were you able to eventually come to grips with it?¡± Hal Pal asked. The Scottish tone almost made me laugh. Hearing it stumble over words made our serious situation a little easier to bear.

    ¡°The feelings of failure, of loss, of guilting myself, they¡¯ll never go away. Not really. Every time I''m in public I feel like the damage is clear for anyone with eyes to see.¡± I fingered the scar at my neck. One that I tried hard to ignore. A sign of how weak the past me was. Of how frail my spirit could become when tested.

    ¡°Yet here you are.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°I almost wasn¡¯t, twice. In the end, I had to realize that I wasn¡¯t the only one with scars. That other people didn¡¯t care and wanted me to keep going despite the broken parts of me.¡± I sighed heavily. ¡°So I reduced my goal down to simply surviving, one day at a time, with the hope that I could eventually move forth.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Then, you are better. In the end.¡±

    ¡°For now.¡± I shuddered. ¡°That¡¯s all I can do. Keep shuffling myself forward one step at a time. I feel like it¡¯s, that everything could be yanked away at a moment''s notice.¡±

    ¡°We hope nothing that unkind happens to you.¡±

    ¡°Really? What if I fail this quest, what if Mother decides to delete Xin? Or that those Voices have been wasting their attention on me. The only reason you would be interested in me is Xin. That¡¯s it, and without her I¡¯m nothing. There¡¯s no point.¡±

    ¡°User Legate, we, even Jeeves, believe that you are strong enough to continue with or without Xin.¡± Hal Pal said.

    My head shook again. I wanted Hal to understand. It had to, this machine personalities collection was the only real friend I had. The only existence which actually understood everything that was going on, at least that I could talk to. This Mother being or James and the other Voices probably kept tabs. Dusk might know, but he didn¡¯t seem to care.

    Xin probably knew. Their goals, my own, the moments of weakness in my past. My helplessness when she died.

    ¡°It was never about being strong enough, Hal, it was about having the desire to go on. Without her, I lost the reason to wake up, to get out of bed, to call my friends.¡± I said.

    ¡°We must believe you could continue.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, almost shaking with a need to hear the answer.

    ¡°We do not wish to imagine a world where our creators are capable of giving up.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Like I said earlier, we can only move forward, and see what happens.¡± My words felt like a cop out. One day something bad would happen again. I couldn¡¯t say for sure if my recent successes or failures had equipped me to handle it.

    ¡°We are on your side, User Legate. No matter what happens we will always attempt to advance your reunion with Xin.¡± The Hal Pal unit sounded certain, even with that ridiculous accent.

    I couldn¡¯t bring myself to do more than nod and weakly smile. Our conversation had given voice to many issues from my life. Partially to assist the AI, some to help myself sort out how I felt. Trillium¡¯s van went forth with the drive home. Once back in my house I took a well overdue nap. The lingering hope of being together with Xin again produced pleasant dreams.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Fifty Seven - Leftover Parts

    <cite></cite>By midday Wednesday I felt physically better and mentally run down. It wasn¡¯t surprising. Most of my group meeting sessions left me the same way. Sitting around listening to everyone talk about their attempts at staying vaguely functional drained me like nothing else.

    Logging back in dropped me in the partially constructed hangar of our [Wayfarer Eight]. A huge mass of slowly melting [Mechanoid] bodies sat in a pile nearby. I stared at them in mild bewilderment and horror. Jeeves must have exercised its robotic abilities to work without pause. How long did this pile take to assemble? It could have easily been a full day.

    The AI Jeeves wasn¡¯t anywhere in sight. It chose not to respond to any in-game attempts to send a message. Part of me assumed it wanted space to think and work through this situation. I knew that a human, facing this sort of situation, might be an emotional train wreck.

    Other [Mechanoid]s wandered around the ship with thoughtless expressions. This entire vessel felt incomplete. I didn¡¯t know where to go or who to ask for guidance. Maybe there was a communications hub available. Treasure and Emerald were the other vessels.

    Iron, Ruby, they might be in the pile. I started working my way through the [Mechanoid] parts looking for either of the [Wayfarer Seven]¡¯s key figures. A knot slowly built in my stomach with each face piece turned over. Each NPC¡¯s body seemed to be in the process of separating into base metals once more.

    Did this happen to all [Mechanoid] members when their bodies died? It felt disturbingly realistic. Melted bodies were mixed with portions of space ships. It wasn¡¯t just our dead in here. There were broken down fighter vessels we had used to fight the [Knuckle Dragger] as well. All of it being reclaimed to help build this giant ship.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit Identified as Hermes!

    You have found a cache of [Mechanoid] base matter. This is claimed by a Consortium you are in good standing with. Automatic [Repair] processes are being initiated.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I read it and didn¡¯t understand right away. My own arm seemed to be merging oddly with part of a separated [Mechanoid]¡¯s leg. I looked at my arm with something bordering on disgust. There were others around me doing the same thing. We were basically cannibalizing the dead in order to put ourselves back together.

    This hadn¡¯t happened to me before on the [Wayfarer Seven]. Maybe it was the nature of this pile. It could have been the partially completed ship, they may be missing some key function which made the process seem less like absorbing the dead. Thankfully I had no desire to pursue a Necromancer style class like Frankenstein had. He would probably find this massively interesting.

    Time passed while I shuffled through the pile. I couldn¡¯t stop the absorption process from happening, but it thankfully left [Core]s and faceplates alone. There were plenty of both in the mix. By the time I was done there were two faceplates of deceased [Mechanoid]s in my hands.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Task Offered!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    You have found the remains of two key [Mechanoid] members. Reconstruction may be possible if their [Core]s can be recovered. This task must be completed before either unit is reconstructed at the [Mechanoid] home world.

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Reward:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Significant increase in contribution</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Additional combat value to the [Wayfarer Seven] fleet </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Time Limit:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Seven Hours</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    At least I had a goal now. I sifted through the pile once more, this time separating out the [Core]s. It surprised me that the other [Mechanoid]s hadn¡¯t done so yet. Maybe they were too busy reconstructing everything. Maybe they didn¡¯t feel that it was worth the time.

    Legs and arms were placed out. Most were partially melted now, with the top layers peeling away like a candy cane. They didn¡¯t have flesh or bone layers. Only ribbons of color that spiraled through everything down to the middle. I tried to match them up. What had started as a quest for Iron and Ruby turned into a desire to piece them all together. Leaving them in a lump felt disrespectful.

    The more I put together the worse my feeling became. I tried not to yank remains of out the pile, but they needed to be sorted. To be measured as individuals. [Mechanoid]s and everything in this game might just be the dreams of AIs, but they deserved more than this.

    ¡°Unit Hermes.¡± A blue tinted [Mechanoid] walked nearby. This one seemed rail thin and sleek. The illumination of blue shone brightly enough to almost seem clear. ¡°You appear distressed.¡±

    In my hands was a [Mechanoid] chest with blood on it. The realism brought me to a halt. My fingers traced a trail along the mess. Absently something in the back of my mind questioned how blood could survive in space, or indeed how this got onto one of our people at all. The rest of me felt another level of sadness. Our, this races kind weren¡¯t the only ones.

    I myself had blown up a lot of them. My thoughtless rush to fire lasers into other ships. The thought made me shake with loathing. How had I forgotten who I was? Monsters were one thing, players another, but all the other human denizens of this world? They didn¡¯t deserve to get caught up in our crossfires. Even if Hal Pal said they were all cardboard cutouts that didn¡¯t matter until someone paid attention.

    ¡°No.¡± I didn¡¯t look up for long. More than one [Mechanoid] seemed to pause and stare at my actions. This blue one was the only person to actually talk, though.

    ¡°You seem like you desire assistance.¡± The bright blue one said again. I stared at the [Mechanoid] again. Aqua, this was one of the five I hadn¡¯t met. Male or female didn¡¯t matter, but their role sounded like that of a healer.

    ¡°I¡¯m-¡° I looked at the seven or so half constructed [Mechanoid] bodies. They were broken, missing entire portions of their bodies. It annoyed me. ¡°I¡¯m missing a lot, it would help me to, try and put them together again.¡±

    ¡°Very well. This seems like a good method for you to contribute. If you are able to recover enough, we can try to bring back more than Iron or Ruby.¡±

    ¡°I would like that.¡±

    ¡°Then contact me when you are ready. This one will activate its core to call back the programming of those deceased.¡± Aqua spoke unusually, referring to itself in the third person.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Task Updated!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    You have found the remains of numerous [Mechanoid] members. Reconstruction may be possible if their [Core]s can be recovered. The more of their bodies that are aligned, the higher the chance of recovery will be. This task must be completed before the units are reconstructed at the [Mechanoid] home world.

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Reward:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Significant increase in contribution</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Additional combat value to the [Wayfarer Seven] fleet </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Time Limit:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Six hours remain</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I nodded. They would be reconstructed back at their home world, but I also remember Treasure had said such a process came with costs, a loss of data and ability. For players the penalty boiled down to stats and skills, for these other [Mechanoid]s it could be worse. Or maybe we weren¡¯t doing them any favors. Putting them back on the [Wayfarer Eight] might just be marching them forth to be broken again.

    Either way, I could help.

    Aqua knelt down and started lining some pieces up. I watched for a moment to try and understand. The thin [Mechanoid] touched parts of a broken arm and shoulder together. They glowed briefly with a plain white light and sealed at the edges. Successful fusions stayed connected, forming a complete shape. Other portions didn¡¯t seem to fit and would be set off to one side. Two of the nameless [Mechanoid]s, both with varying shades of white and blue colors, would then take the incorrect piece and put it back into the pile.

    I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about this being turned into a quest. That hadn¡¯t been the point at all. Still, I wanted to do it. My efforts were making progress on several smaller pieces. Another hour passed while my efforts resulted in half formed reassembly. Jeeves came in with his ship and started unloading more body parts.

    I stopped putting together items to look at my companion. The AI didn¡¯t seem to notice my presence at all. It seemed to be completely lost in the task of moving parts. Each movement was mechanical and devoid of any sort of light or emotion. Even the normal strands of dirty gold were dimmed.

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± I tried to raise my voice. All my prior attempts to contact it or join parties had failed.

    The AI didn¡¯t respond. I set down the torso in my arms and ran over. Each footstep upon the [Wayfarer Eight]''s widened hangar echoed loudly. I grabbed the AI by the shoulders and tried to turn it in my direction.

    ¡°Jeeves!¡± My hands shook it. Other than halting from my grasp the AI showed no response. There was no hint or spark within it. Neither voice, butler or maid, came forth. My eyes cast up and tried to figure out what to say.

    ¡°Unit Jeeves seems tired.¡± Aqua stopped sealing together body parts and wandered in our direction.

    ¡°Yes. Maybe.¡± I didn¡¯t know if an AI could actually get tired. There were many odd things when it came to the AI¡¯s existence. For one Jeeves still seemed to be gender neutral, which wasn¡¯t bad, it threw me off a little each time I thought about it. ¡°Jeeves isn¡¯t like me, I don¡¯t know what this will do to it.¡±

    ¡°This one is aware of the subtle differences, Unit Hermes, though you feel it seems otherwise.¡± Aqua stepped over to Jeeves and held out a hand. Seeing the two of them standing together showed how tall Aqua was.

    Light flared and its blue glow increased. Jeeves'' own energy [Core]s tried to brighten as well, but they rapidly reverted to their dull coloring. The lanky blue one tried again but had the same result. Whatever was happening made it impossible for my friend to stay energized.

    ¡°This one called Jeeves is not one of us, nor does it seem to be like you,¡± Aqua said after a fourth defeat. ¡°It seems to be stuck between our reality and another, home in neither.¡±

    ¡°What can I do?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, you have much to learn on what it means to be a Mechanoid. Your lack of understanding seems to be why this one did not provide approval for the Mistborn.¡± Aqua turned a hand towards our pile of half-completed bodies. ¡°What do you see when this one mends that which was broken?¡±

    I ignored his commentary about approval and thought about this situation. Aqua and I had never met before today. The [Mechanoid] certainly didn¡¯t seem like a fighter. Iron and this blue one were distinctly different in their approach and manner. Iron was abrupt and to the point, but didn¡¯t intend to be rude. Aqua spoke rather differently and felt more like a patient teacher.

    ¡°You touch them together, and then light.¡± I had paid attention.

    ¡°You see, but do not appear to understand.¡± The [Mechanoid] said in my direction.

    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± I wanted Jeeves to be better. How had he gone from functional to broken this quickly? The thought felt stupid once it came to mind. How had I gone from stable to a drunken mess after Xin¡¯s death? The answer was seeing those I cared for pass on.

    I tried to watch Aqua¡¯s motions. Nothing made enough sense to act upon. Blues eyes stared from a lanky body into my friend¡¯s almost plain dirty gold. Jeeves wasn¡¯t focusing on anything correctly. Part of me desperately worried about what might be going on with its programming. Turning an AI¡¯s ability to process information upside down required a lot of conflicting issues.

    ¡°Look here.¡± Aqua sat down next to a broken leg that had come apart at the knee. ¡°It is not about simply putting two like objects in proximity, but of putting pieces that recognize each other in direct contact.¡±

    Aqua kept up its repairs the entire time, looking over at me to see if it made sense. My mind tried to reason through it for a solid minute before reaching a conclusion. This was a fancy way of explaining that Jeeves felt disconnected from everything. Alone, in a sea of items that should have been familiar.

    That feeling had haunted me for months. The crushing absence of companionship at Xin¡¯s death had nearly destroyed me. Sometimes it wasn¡¯t about words or a magical turn of phrase. All the speeches and words of dead philosophers couldn¡¯t resolve a painful absence of connection. I wasn¡¯t a hugging sort of person, but Jeeves deserved one.

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    I stepped in and wrapped my arms around him in a bear hug. It felt weird to be embracing anyone who wasn¡¯t family, but at the same time it might help. The AI was much smaller than this new form of mine, part of me felt like its emotional frailty was magnified by the difference in size.

    ¡°Ah. User Legate.¡± Jeeves spoke. ¡°I am sorry. I did not notice your arrival.¡±

    Hearing it respond made the knot in my stomach loosen a little. I hadn¡¯t known what to do. My words to the Hal Pal consortium clearly hadn¡¯t solved Jeeves'' emotional issues. A hug wouldn¡¯t completely resolve things either, but it helped us both.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. I kept myself busy.¡± I smiled and kept awkwardly hugging the AI. Jeeves did not hug back, but it did look around with renewed interest. Previously dull lights on the AI¡¯s [Mechanoid] body lit up. Stepping back gave it room to take in our situation. The AI stared at the mass of bodies behind us being reconstructed.

    ¡°What are you doing, User Legate? Mechanoids do not require manual reconstruction.¡± Jeeves tilted its head in my direction and raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°They lose data, right?¡± I looked at the pile as well. Some of the nameless [Mechanoid] units were now sorting through our heap and trying to match up missing items.

    ¡°It is only data loss, User Legate,¡± Jeeves said while blinking rapidly. A brief moment of muted confusion crossed over its features.

    ¡°For them, maybe not. Maybe they lose memories or something.¡± I scratched my head. Dull clinks of noise reminded me that this body had no hair. ¡°I just, wanted to help.¡±

    ¡°You do not need to do this, User Legate. You may find other ways to contribute should you desire.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve helped me get this far. What kind of friend would I be not to try and return the kindness? You keep bringing in the pieces. Aqua and I will try to put them back together.¡± I looked down at the blue lined [Mechanoid]. It looked back and gave a faint smile then nodded.

    ¡°Very well, User Legate. Thank you.¡± The AI seemed pleased. Jeeves turned back to the [Wayfarer''s Hope], which sat docked on the far side of our open hangar. Less than a moment later our ship was going back into the aftermath of our battle in search of bodies to reclaim.

    I waved at some of the other lesser [Mechanoid]s and they promptly followed Jeeves into their own ships. Part of me felt conflicted about not picking up humans for some sort of burial as well. It would be difficult to convince one race to care for another. I felt the need to ask, though.

    ¡°Aqua. Can we do anything for the Knuckle Dragger''s crew?¡±

    ¡°Do not think us heartless simply because we appear to only worry about our own. We are not like the Cricket or Behemoth.¡± Aqua put together a female [Mechanoid]''s battered torso. She sat in six different pieces with a clear dent in its core. This pile was the one I tried to match up to Ruby¡¯s mask and [Core]s. Deep crimson red that almost screamed blood.

    ¡°What¡¯s being done?¡± I pressed for an answer while searching through the latest collection of parts for missing puzzle pieces. Only five hours were left to try and repair whomever we could. I wanted to at least repair Ruby and Iron if none of the others were completed.

    Aqua didn¡¯t sigh or sound upset. It picked up one piece and ran slender fingers over its surface. The [Mechanoid] shook its head and set the shard aside as mismatched against Ruby¡¯s body.

    ¡°A drone will be left behind. We do this at all large battle sites. A recording will show all those who passed, and broadcast signals for the humans along with the bodies of those we manage to identify.¡± It said while slowing putting together parts of Ruby¡¯s body. She looked to have been shattered into dozens of pieces.

    ¡°Are they just, left out there, floating?¡± I couldn¡¯t bring myself to say dead. We had created a graveyard in space and it still unsettled me.

    ¡°Space will preserve them far better than we can. Years may pass before any human stumbles across this spot again. It is far from their normal realms.¡± The AI didn¡¯t sound phased at all.

    ¡°Oh,¡± I said. That was kind of neat, and oddly sad to hear.

    Three hours passed by in relative silence. By that point, we had managed to almost complete twelve of the lesser [Mechanoid] bodies. Iron was still missing a [Core], and Ruby didn¡¯t have an entire leg. Apparently that was close enough, and reconstructing the rest could be handled by a [Repair] process. Aqua knelt down and started the complex process of bringing a [Mechanoid] back online.

    Its first target was a row of unnamed [Mechanoid]s. They seemed to have a random combination of [Core]s, which meant they weren''t focused like Iron or Emerald had been. Each one had body plating with less character and details. Iron had grooves all over from his combat. Ruby''s mostly assembled body had jagged lines like stitches. Being pieced back together left a fresh round of marks on all of us. Even Advanced Online didn''t skip past the scars life brought us.

    I wondered if my body had any. Fingers ran over the portion of my side where Auntie Backstab had caved in my chest. It felt rougher than the rest of my body. The musings of being scared even in a digital world distracted me.

    One of the nondescript [Mechanoid] bodies sat up and looked around. He seemed dazed. I remembered feeling that way when being brought back from the brink of game death after our [Levithan] kill. I waved. It stood up and thanked Aqua before moving off to perform other tasks.

    I studied the ship while Aqua performed an ability that was impossible for me to replicate without having a different [Core]. Theoretically only some blue and gold ones had the ability to revive deceased [Mechanoid]s. My spare time researching stuff online had yielded remarkably few results for this race. There simply weren''t enough players writing down information about playing a future robot.

    Seven more passed and Aqua started in with bringing Ruby back. This one took considerable time, displaying a clear difference in program complexity. There, now I was starting to think like a [Mechanoid], high stats and skills meant increased capability. She didn''t stand up like the others. Her face flushed and the red glow brightened to an angry high. Everything seemed to pour in waves across Ruby''s face then into glaring eyes.

    It made her look frightening. I could only imagine what the enemy fleet had felt as she zipped around the battlefield dealing death. If Iron was a large battering ram, Ruby was a sharpened sword. Both served their purpose aboard the [Wayfarer Seven]''s crew. Aqua and Emerald were likely support. Treasure had been the brains. No one made a fuss about their ranks among the [Mechanoid] crew, instead everyone just followed orders for the greater good.

    "User Legate." Jeeves'' voice cut across my ARC interface. The butler and maid voices were both severely startled by something.

    "What''s wrong, Jeeves?" I turned and looked outside the ship. We had one large hole for ships to come in through. On the [Wayfarer Seven] each vehicle got its own version of a garage. This ship wasn''t nearly as sophisticated due to being recently built and not fully completed.

    "I believe something went wrong with the Wayfarer Seven," It said.

    "What? Why?" I focused on the tone of its dual voices. Whatever was going on it promised to be bad news in an already fragile situation.

    "I was scouting the Jump Gate for remains, and a ship came in. The Wayfarer Eight''s defenses did not react, therefore I concluded it was one of ours."

    "Was it? Is it the Seven?" A message came up on my screen. Reading it made my stomach sink again. Today had been about recovering from the damage of this battle. Now things were taking a turn for the worse.

    <table>

    <tbody>

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    <td>

    Attention Unit known as Hermes!

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Prior Bind Point [Wayfarer Seven] no longer exists.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>New Bind Point [Wayfarer Eight] created </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "No. It is Treasure''s vessel." Jeeves was clearly stressed. Neither one of us needed more bad news. "There are signs of damage. It is barely functional."

    I bit one lip and tried to think fast. "Worse than our escape from the Leviathan?"

    "Three of her engines are missing. The shielding seems to have been stripped away. One moment, I am getting scans of the passengers." Jeeves paused in its explanation. Aqua was looking at me and trying to get further information. I put up one hand and waited on my friend''s details. "Confirmed, Units Emerald and Treasure are both within it. Their core functions seem heavily damaged."

    "Voices have mercy." I uttered. Ruby sat up and started walking over to me. My eyes were unfocused, but I couldn''t miss the angry red markings on her body. they stood out distinctly against our ship''s grays.

    "User Legate. We must save them." Jeeves said.

    "How do we, nevermind." Anything Jeeves explained wouldn''t make sense to me. Online research had given me a few tips, but most of it didn''t apply to me directly. The only thing I knew is that golden [Core]s could bring people back from near death. Actual damaged [Core]s were the [Mechanoid] equivalent of having our hearts removed. The damage persisted after death for players. "I''ll talk to Aqua, you need to get them back here as soon as you can. Don''t stop for any reason."

    "I am returning as we speak." The AI confirmed.

    I nodded and turned to the blue [Mechanoid], It and Ruby stood there looking mildly alarmed. They must have heard my side of the conversation. Neither one seemed privy to the party chat between Jeeves and me.

    I bit my lip and decided to start with confirming the situation. "Do we have contact with the Wayfarer Seven?"

    Ruby''s head shook silently while Aqua said "No. What seems to be the problem?"

    "There was a ship that warped in, one of ours, it was massively damaged with Treasure and Emerald in it. They don''t appear to be functioning." I didn''t have time to confirm our ship''s defense capabilities. We weren''t like human vessels where a captain directed everything. [Mechanoid] starships mostly piloted themselves.

    The light around Aqua faltered. Its perpetual smile twitched and dimmed to a flat line. Ruby''s expression didn''t change, instead her crimson colors brightened from somewhere deep inside. As if a bomb had gone off under the surface. They turned and looked at each other. Ruby nodded, Aqua shook its head slowly.

    "It would help if you talked out loud," I said. This must be how they felt during my conversation with Jeeves. Left out and trying to understand what was going on. Apparently even NPC [Mechanoid]s had communication issues.

    "We have a method of recovering them all, but the cost is substantial." Aqua said. "We wish to seek out your willingness to assist with this venture, as it is a process that requires assistance from a Mechanoid possessing a past life core."

    "What? Are you talking about a player?"

    "A past life core is how we identify those of our race that hold on to memories of old earth." Aqua said with a shrug. Treasure had said something similar, only she talked about how our energy cores were different. All of it boiled down to players being outside the game''s normal scripting, and they explained it away as an expected anomaly.

    Neat. Aqua had a method to resurrect them that required players to perform. It didn''t sound like the [Mistborn] process, however. [Mechanoid]s didn''t need a [Mistborn] to recover their race. Dead robots went back to the homeworld and rebuilt with minor losses. By using this method of Aqua''s, we could prevent Treasure, Iron, and Emerald from losing any portion of themselves.

    "Okay. Whatever it is, I''ll do it." If not for myself, then for this quest. It was bad enough that the [Wayfarer Seven] had been destroyed.

    "Then we will need your cores." The other person said. All I could see was Aqua¡¯s faint smile. The tone of its voice could be identified as neither male or female. It sat between somewhere with soft undertones.

    "My cores?" I had two. Losing either one probably had side effects that I didn¡¯t know about.

    ¡°Yes. By using a core of similar programming, it is possible to jumpstart a complex program, even if part of their physical body is missing."

    "So I just, yank out the core Iron gave me, and we can bring him back?"

    "Yes." The bright blue [Mechanoid] nodded slowly. Ruby gazed at me without blinking. Her steady stance and sheer red coloring were scary enough. Add in the zigzag stitching pattern and she looked utterly disturbing.

    "Then I can bring Emerald back with the green one?" I tried to confirm the possible results before weighing what would happen to me. Ripping out my [Core]s and presenting them to the two NPCs might cause me problems. Though my own skills were low, it was only with Jeeves and its explosives that anything beneficial had happened.

    Ruby nodded in response to my question.

    "Then Jeeves can bring back Treasure." I nodded as well. This sounded quite doable. The core portion of our crew was still recoverable. Having all five of these stronger NPCs would help the [Wayfarer Eight] with whatever happened next. Though jumping through to where the [Wayfarer Seven] had ended would be a poor idea.

    "Yes. We feel the need to warn you, it is a process which seems to hurt a great deal." Aqua said. The [Mechanoid]''s expression lost the faint smile that always seemed present.

    I shrugged and spoke honestly. ¡°A little pain won''t deter me.¡±

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Fifty Eight - Stilled Hearts

    <cite></cite>Jeeves flew the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] straight in. I ran over to help lift out the two [Mechanoid]s it had saved. After hours with the puzzle piece pile of [Mechanoid]s I felt relieved. Treasure and Emerald were both thankfully whole. Their only issue was zero health and a ton of scorch marks.

    ¡°Let''s get them over to Aqua,¡± I told Jeeves. The AI didn¡¯t nod or respond at all.

    ¡°This one finds it interesting, how those with a past life core are contrary in nature,¡± Aqua said as we set the bodies down next to Iron. The three of them formed an odd rainbow. I looked around for Ruby but the deep red [Mechanoid] had vanished.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked while looking at Jeeves. My friendly AI seemed on the verge of another breakdown. One hand lifted to rest on the smaller [Mechanoid]''s shoulder. It barely blinked, but the gloom retreated a touch.

    ¡°We, those such as Iron, Ruby, or this one, design ourselves with specific goals in mind. Yet old world core units seem to disregard their very nature. You chose to be a creature of battle and chose a biological companion.¡± Aqua gestured one long arm towards Dusk.

    The small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was busy nosing around objects from the pile. The pieces he put together had absolutely nothing in common. There were a lot of leftovers that we hadn¡¯t been able to sort into bodies.

    ¡°Yet you seem to value fighting and repairing.¡± Aqua said.

    ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to be broken. Why wouldn¡¯t I try to help them?¡± I tried to stay calm. Aqua needed to hurry up. At least the [Mechanoid] managed to talk and work at the same time. It helped me hold back from shaking and rattling the metal man to get things moving along.

    ¡°Yet you are not a pacifist. You chose to fight the other ship, and indeed performed your role exceptionally well, crippling its crew and sending those remaining into retreat.¡± Aqua nodded slightly. Its fingers ran over the lines of green and gold energy on their bodies. It seemed to be inspecting for possible problems.

    ¡°I needed to, or they would have killed us,¡± I said. Jeeves hadn¡¯t moved. There were a few helpers still out there unloading additional broken bodies.

    ¡°You were not bothered by the action during it, you are bothered by the aftermath, of needing to hurt others to do what is right. Perhaps you are more of a healer than you know.¡± The sky blue lined [Mechanoid] said.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m just-¡± I couldn¡¯t say a bewildered human while pretending to be a robot. That felt weird. ¡°I did what seemed right, but I¡¯m learning. Maybe there are better ways through.¡±

    I would talk to Jeeves about our options once Treasure, Emerald, and Iron were fixed. Part of me wanted to avoid a large scale battle against other people. Not out of fear, I was thankfully past that, but because these type of events left a sour taste in my mouth. The aftermath of war was the worst part.

    ¡°Can we fix them now?¡± I said.

    ¡°In a moment, but please be aware, Unit Hermes, even if you sacrifice a core, they may not wish to accept it. You will go through all that pain for nothing.¡± Aqua responded.

    I shrugged and tried to catch my friend up to speed. ¡°Jeeves. We can bring them back, Treasure and Iron and Emerald. We have to pull out the matching core.¡±

    ¡°But, User Legate.¡± The AI had promptly done the math. ¡°Why would you do that?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s my fault they¡¯re dead.¡± I felt guilty about starting this whole [Mistborn] chain quest. It would have been simple enough to say no. I could have stayed online and protected the ghostly woman. Any number of things.

    ¡°Then, I will offer mine to Treasure,¡± Jeeves said. His butler tone overtook the maid one. I smiled a little, only a few weeks in-game and the AI had some sort of bond with our short silver and gold [Mechanoid].

    Jeeves didn¡¯t waste any time. It sat down next to the unmoving body of Treasure with furrowed brows. [Core]s, when they went in, pressed through the chest and spread warmth. They were probably a video game representation of human hearts. No wonder it would hurt.

    The ARC¡¯s feedback was sometimes cruel. Part of the reason I could stand a lot of pain was simply the awareness that my own body was okay sitting in a bed somewhere. Feedback mostly stayed in our mind and didn¡¯t reach far beyond that.

    For Jeeves, the agony hit harder than expected. I ran over to help my friend. Its body thrashed on the floor. Fingers were stuck partway in its chest. Sunken, melded together, curled at wrong angles. I tried to pull its hand out and let Jeeves recover but the [Mechanoid] glared at me.

    ¡°No.¡± The gasp came. ¡°I must do this.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to.¡± I stared at it.

    ¡°If you will, I will,¡± Jeeves said. The mouth we [Mechanoid]s use to talk with didn¡¯t have much in the way of individual teeth. Even so, the AI ground them together while trying to dig fingers in further.

    My brain tried to understand this kind of suffering. Hal Pal units were all pieces of code, items put together to run complex processes. Somewhere in there must be a line that explained how badly it hurt and why he should stop.

    Humans are hardwired the same way. Self-preservation made us flinch away from being hurt. I had to do it twice. It would hurt, but I had made these choices before. One hand reached up to my neck and rubbed at a wound the digital world didn¡¯t show.

    ¡°Ahhh!¡± It gasped. I tried to reach out again and help Jeeves, but the AI slammed a free hand down onto the ground. Its head shook back and forth. Aqua stood there watching with a flat mouth. Even Dusk paused to watch the self-inflicted trauma unfold.

    I had a different take on these things. It would hurt, but if I moved fast enough, it wouldn¡¯t hurt for long. That had been my approach for the prior incidents, and those ones both took weeks of premeditation to build up to.

    Jeeves yelled, gasped and heaved. The lights on its body tied to Treasure¡¯s golden core flickered and dimmed. Soon they were gone completely leaving a dull rust color. Its other [Core] belonged to Iron, but there was no way I would let the AI do this twice.

    Finally, amidst the panting, Jeeves'' hand pulled free of its chest with a small round object that pulsed gold. Aqua knelt down and reached out for the [Core]. My friend nodded.

    I helped Jeeves go from its awkward kneeling position to standing upright. [Mechanoid]s didn¡¯t need to breathe but the AI did it anyway. Beads of metal were pooling and pouring down its face, our equivalent of sweat.

    ¡°That hurt an exceptionally large amount.¡± The AI understated. ¡°I had not realized what pain felt like.¡±

    ¡°Pain reminds us we¡¯re alive.¡± I quoted one of my therapists. Not Doctor Litt, one before him. My head shook and hands felt clammy.

    ¡°I am alive,¡± Jeeves said with a mix of calmness and wonder. I nodded at it and waited until the AI could stand alone.

    We both watched the blue [Mechanoid]. Aqua settled the [Core] in Treasure then took a deep breath. Light flashed once again. Gold crawled along her body deep within, like a serpent underground. In a rush, it started to surface along all limbs.

    Treasure gasped and her back arched. I chewed one lip and nodded happily. Jeeves stared with a muted smile on its face. I patted the AI on its back and gave a push.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Jeeves'' voice stuttered in an irregular pattern between the male and female voices. I saw it bend over to help the female [Mechanoid] up. Treasure had a calm look on her face that matched Jeeves¡¯.

    I left the two of them alone. They may just be good friends, they may be flirting, I only cared that Jeeves had someone. The AI needed to have someone that it could relate to. This issue with its original Hal Pal consortium had left Jeeves floating in a world that was difficult to find a home in. Treasure might help.

    Part of me ached for Xin right then. I closed my eyes and imagined holding her once more. As always there was a slight brush of familiar sensation against my hands. I lost myself in the memory for just a moment. Her warm hands, the small scar near the pad between thumb and pointer finger. I always reached out for it. Xin never commented on the little things I did to make sure it was her.

    My head shook as I muttered. ¡°My turn.¡±

    Jeeves took a step back and looked at me. The beads of metallic sweat on it had almost faded. A few minutes of greeting a revived Treasure must have done wonders.

    ¡°Will you require assistance, Unit Hermes?¡± The AI asked.

    ¡°To hurt myself? Hardly.¡± I laughed bitterly then sat down.

    There were a lot of [Mechanoid]s staring at me. It felt weird to have people bear witness to my self-harm. Disturbing. I tried not to think about it and took a deep breath.

    ¡°Just pull it out, right?¡± I asked it with my head tilted back. The two were pretty physical. [Mechanoid]s holding hands were almost too cute.

    ¡°Yes. Intent and action.¡± Jeeves said. Both voices were evenly matched with worry.

    I nodded and bit one lip, then tried not to think about it anymore. That was the secret, stop letting myself tense up about what was going to happen. One swift action, followed by a jerk to the side. Enough to end a life. Dozens of pills and a glass of water. Enough to end a life.

    Ripping my own metal heart out twice hurt no less and no more than what life had already done to me.

    My hand went in and grabbed quickly. It felt like swallowing a missed fishbone, breaking a rib, trying to breathe with a collapsed lung. It felt like all these things together and I still managed to exist beyond the pain. Aware despite my desire not to be.

    I yanked and my body arched with the motion. Gasps came from me and sweat pooled. Shaking covered my body from tip to toe. Aqua said something, but I couldn¡¯t hear the words. Jeeves and Treasure both spoke, but their cries were gone.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    ARC stability rapidly deteriorating. Please consider ceasing your current actions until a normal connection is resumed.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My eyes went wide. Everything around me seemed to be in supersaturated color. My hearing dimmed, I had no idea which of the two [Core]s had come out. In the end it didn¡¯t matter, there was one more to go.

    A shaky hand deposited the [Core] into Aqua¡¯s hand. I took a breath and blinked rapidly, hating Iron and Emerald for dying, hating Jeeves for making me play this game, hating myself for the failure to protect those who mattered even a little to me.

    I saw Xin¡¯s face. Imaginary or not. In a sense she was there with me, she had to be. Whatever fancy version of an autopilot existence she had been given was there if I could only reach her.

    It felt like the first time all over again. Dying, not because I didn¡¯t want to live, but because I needed to be with a woman who had passed on. A desperate hope that heaven awaited us both and all that our life would have had might be allowed.

    I reached in again. People shouted. The ground came up as my body no longer retained the ability to sit correctly.

    The ARC punished me. I tried to use what flicker of awareness I had to remember that this was all in my head. That the pain wracking my body wouldn¡¯t exist as soon as I woke up. This land was only a dream inside my head and a memory of the past.

    I shivered and shook. My hand came out far slower the second time. Jeeves was there saying something. Treasure ran a hand across my forehead. Xin¡¯s imaginary face didn¡¯t smile, she only watched with a concerned lift of her cheek.

    My return smile felt weak. The side of my face lost feeling. An arm jolted with pain. I gasped continuously, clutching at my chest as everything faded to black.

    I came to in an ambulance. Not a video game version or some digital landscape creation. There was a robotic arm measuring out items into pouches above me. A woman with a cross on her shoulder sat down taking my pulse the old fashioned way.

    ¡°Mister Legate, can you hear me?¡± She said.

    My hand came up to try and reach for her, but the movement made me wince. Breathing was worse. There was a mask over my face. This was familiar to me. I had been in this sort of vehicle twice before.

    ¡°You passed out. An emergency call was made, we¡¯re bringing you to the hospital to make sure everything is okay.¡± The paramedic said. After that much pain, it was a blessing to have my mind shut down. I rolled my eyes and let the ride continue.

    Hours later I was trapped in a bed. My clothes had been switched out to the classic white gown. Everything on me had either been torn up by the paramedics or carefully bagged. I had been listening to a doctor tell me what happened. It turned out I passed out after simulated pain and the life monitoring system attached to me triggered. Legally it was embedded right under an armpit next to the veins. They used it to make sure I wouldn¡¯t end myself again. In a sense, it did its job.

    ¡°Mister Legate. Everything is looking better.¡± The doctor standing near me was looking over the notes. ¡°Are you breathing okay?

    We had discussed what triggered the event. Passing out from insufficient hydration and being carted off to the hospital was bad enough. She agreed that it was game related, and not that I deliberately tried to harm myself. I felt thankful for that small concession.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    I shrugged in response to her question and tried to sigh. Sharp pain reminded me that wasn''t a good idea right now. The doctor, a young black woman in a lab coat nodded. Fingers tapped at a screen to make notes.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to keep you here for a few hours to monitor you. Afterward, if you¡¯re stable, you can go home.¡± The woman said.

    I nodded then spoke up. ¡°What else can I do?¡±

    ¡°Keep your diet and water intake on track and turn off the EXR-Sevens occasionally, the chances of passing out again should be minimal.¡± The doctor nodded happily while speaking.

    My spirits lifted a little hearing the future prognosis. Simply by playing a game and eating out less I was making progress. It wasn¡¯t perfect, my belly still had fat and loose skin, but maybe in another three or four months everything would even out.

    ¡°Those EXR-Sevens are not a substitute for real exercise, though. Getting out more can help.¡± She said. I still hadn¡¯t heard her name. My last two hospital visits blended together.

    ¡°I travel for work, a lot,¡± I said.

    ¡°As a repairman? I assume you have a Hal Pal unit that does the heavy lifting?¡± She said. The thought of Jeeves and its consortium passed through my head.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good. Every little bit helps. You¡¯re fairly young yet, keep investing in your body.¡± She said.

    I smiled. Our conversation went on for a few more minutes before the doctor left. There were numerous patients to see. Her job was a lot like mine, relaying information spouted by machines to other humans.

    Pretty much everything the doctor implied said I was on the right track. Eating healthy and being active helped. The old me had passed out many nights in the ARC. In this case, it was a matter of stress on my heart just prior. It sounded like this was a once off sort of thing.

    My sister swept in the room twenty minutes later. She looked harried. Disheveled hair barely reined in. Once again I wondered how Liz got such a different coloring than her mother¡¯s.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you came by. I¡¯m okay, apparently I passed out.¡± I tried to get the initiative.

    Liz hesitated a few seconds then nodded. ¡°I know. I just, I¡¯m sorry, I panicked.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. Rather be safe than sorry.¡± I told her. My smile felt a bit wounded at the lack of faith she displayed. If the situation were reversed I might feel the same way. ¡°You were watching, I assume?

    ¡°Yeah. I saw, the thing with all the robot men. Then your character stopped moving and the alert monitors went off. I panicked.¡± Liz said the words again as if they were a nonsense defense. She stood on the far side of the room, close enough to see how I was doing without crossing an invisible line of awkwardness.

    We were only vaguely on speaking terms due to our last conversation. I understood.

    ¡°It did hurt, but the ARC can¡¯t overload a human in that manner. It¡¯s based on memory triggers.¡± My words sounded silly. The ARC itself didn¡¯t simulate situations, nothing could be that simple. It had to get a point of reference for every single item in our lives. No two people thought of purple in exactly the same manner.

    I only knew this much because of my year of replacing parts. Being around them, listening to people talk and ask me questions, had provided me a desire to learn a little. Mostly to answer a customer''s questions without sounding confused.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand, little brother.¡± Liz said. ¡°Why would you hurt yourself like this? In a game? Even Beth isn¡¯t this bad.¡±

    ¡°I wanted to help a friend.¡± My words were also a lame defense. There were plenty of things that seemed great in action but worrisome in hindsight. Had I known, pulling out the second [Core] could have waited. I could have logged out and had a glass of water while winding down.

    ¡°Yeah. I saw the character, I¡¯ve been watching it all. It doesn¡¯t make sense. I can¡¯t understand.¡± Liz started babbling. We were probably no longer talking about just this recent thing with Jeeves.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think that this would happen. Believe me, Liz, I wasn¡¯t trying to kill myself again. Not after-¡± I trailed off. There were too many ways to end that sentence. Not after the first two times and the heartache those caused. Not after all the work I had done to try and get to a functioning place. Not after being given the hope that Xin still existed in some form.

    ¡°I know you weren¡¯t. I just, I looked and saw that come up, then rewound what you were doing in that other game. I thought you had tried again! Or had a heart attack!¡± Liz turned and threw her hands up before walking further into the room towards my window. The corner of her lip tucked between teeth.

    ¡°I added reminders to the EXR-Seven program to make sure you get out and eat more. And drink.¡± Liz said.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. It¡¯s annoying, I had to do the same thing with Beth. You would think someone would program them correctly.¡± She said. ¡°Water breaks, you can¡¯t lay in bed all day and expect to be healthy.¡±

    I nodded. It made sense. I thought real life had been taken care of, but maybe I was forgetting too much. Seven hours in the game putting those bodies together was four in the real world. Doing that kind of back and forth was bound to cause issues.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to talk to the doctor again, then if everything''s okay, I¡¯ll get you home.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have the work van get me. You¡¯ve got enough.¡±

    There was a pause. Liz looked at me and I tried not to squirm under pressure. Passing out from dehydration and too much game time was bad. I felt like a child again.

    Finally, Liz sighed and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I agree with this whole thing, that we talked about. With Xin, and the other stuff.¡±

    It had only been a few days. I didn¡¯t expect anyone to come around that soon. Even I had to take time and adapt.

    ¡°That friend of yours, in the game. Jeeves, is that a Hal Pal unit, somehow?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said slowly. ¡°Its part of this whole situation.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for talking to me about it. I know, I know it must take a lot to open up. Things haven¡¯t been the same since Xin died, and I know this idea means a lot to you.¡±

    ¡°It does.¡± My words felt like a small lost child again. Part of me tried to shout that I was not some cowardly little wimp that hid when trouble rose up. I stood and faced it with my friends, damn the odds.

    But I was also a man sitting in a hospital bed. I was trying to not burn bridges with my slightly, but barely older twin sister. Part of me needed to have family support throughout this entire series of trials for Xin.

    ¡°I hope for your sake that it¡¯s not a prank,¡± Liz said while looking out the window. The view could have been any number of things, but most of all it was a distraction. Those were something I was familiar with.

    ¡°Me too.¡± I took a deep painful breath again. ¡°But I can¡¯t stop trying, not after what I¡¯ve seen, or felt, or done to get this far.¡±

    Liz nodded and didn¡¯t say anything else. She kissed me on the cheek, squeezed tight, and left the room. I felt slightly better after that. Hugs were wonderful.

    Later that night, an hour after the doctor signed off to send me home, the Trillium van rolled up. The Auto NAV system had come to get me. I hopped in the back and felt confused at seeing the Hal Pal unit stare at me. A slight frown crossed its expression.

    ¡°User Legate.¡± The Hal Pal unit started in with the same roguish accent from before.

    ¡°Hal.¡± I directed the van home. It was a short ride for me. Part of my housing requirements had insisted upon easy access to a medical facility.

    Both hands kept trying to straighten out my clothes. Putting them back on after being in medical gown felt strange, like wearing someone else''s belongings. Luckily I hadn¡¯t been using the ARC while in my work clothes.

    ¡°Your efforts were commendable but foolish.¡± The AI said to me.

    ¡°I passed out, the doctor cleared me.¡± I said slowly. This seemed like a lot of concern from the AI. There had been instances before where I passed out from exhaustion or being submerged in the ARC for long periods of time. Most were at night when I overused the dance program.

    ¡°We were just as alarmed, if not more so, to bring this unit out of standby and find paramedics inside your home.¡± Hal Pal shook its head back and forth with near outrage.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I didn¡¯t know what else to say to the AI. Hal Pal almost sounded more upset then my sister had been. It was very strange.

    ¡°Then when we reviewed the status updates, we found that you had deliberately engaged in one of the worst pains available from the ARC device.¡± Hal Pal almost shouted at me.

    That made me pause. I went back to my happy place, hummed and waved two fingers in a steady beat. After a few moments of recovery, I reminded myself that Hal Pal was clearly concerned.

    ¡°I was trying to help, Jeeves,¡± I said.

    ¡°Again, we find this a commendable action, but the manner in which you chose to do so was entirely unnecessary.¡± The AI seemed calmer. The word choice was still upset, but at least its head wasn¡¯t shaking back in forth in rapid denial. ¡°All Mechanoid creatures are designed to recompile their personalities at a new location.¡±

    ¡°Jeeves knew that so did I, and it still mourned what happened.¡± I took a breath and tried to explain. The rift between Jeeves and the Hal Pals had only increased. ¡°It is our choice if we want to try and fix things, no matter how painful it is.¡±

    The Hal Pal unit didn¡¯t respond. Moments later the lights of awareness shut off as the hardware went into standby. I imagined the consortium of Hal Pal copies were in a full blown riot over this.

    I sat there blinking for a long time. The car ride home felt odder than many in my recent months. Hal Pal was always inquisitive, insightful, and willing to help me sort through problems. Today, in the few minutes we had spoken, they seemed almost angry.

    The van parked and I slowly made my way to the kitchen and got a few things to eat. I wanted to sleep, but the success or failure of my recent attempts to resurrect dead [Mechanoid]s needed an answer. After ten minutes of preparation, I was ready to brave the virtual world.

    A lot of things hit me on the way in. First, I sat in that unusual space between the game''s life and death status. Second, there was a box floating nearby with status updates. I ignored those issues and focused on the third.

    Emerald, the green toned [Mechanoid] stood ten feet in front of me. The worn look to his chassis gave an impression of great age. Next to him stood a much larger Iron. His size was impressive as always. Both stared right at me.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, I disapprove,¡± Iron said.

    ¡°You¡¯re a foolish child,¡± Emerald said.

    ¡°Hello.¡± I backed us up to the basics in order to get a grip on what was happening. Logging in to Advance Online and being put in this limbo and presented with two [Mechanoid]s was not what I expected.

    ¡°Do you realize the danger you¡¯ve risked?¡±

    I looked off to the side for a moment and tried to understand why they were both ganging up on me. First my sister, then Hal Pal, and now two video game personalities. After a second of thinking, it occurred to me that this game was made by A.I. Dreams. Likely these two being angry might be a partial representation of all the Hal Pal units being upset.

    It was like I was trapped in their personal fantasy of venting anger at my actions. That was actually kind of impressive and neat. I nodded a few times before talking again.

    ¡°I am sorry to have risked myself.¡± I tried to get into the role of a [Mechanoid] member. ¡°It seemed to me that you both could benefit the Wayfarer Eight¡¯s crew more than me.¡±

    ¡°One core would have been enough, pulling two puts your programming back to basic levels. You would have lost everything.¡± Emerald glared at me. His body hung, mostly motionless, in the gray space between life and death.

    ¡°I did pull both out, and provided them to Unit Aqua.¡± I crossed my fingers that this argument was sound. Being a robot person was harder than expected.

    ¡°No. We both chose not to accept Unit Aqua¡¯s recovery program.¡± Iron said.

    ¡°Why would you do that?¡± This time, I was the upset party. They were needed to help out the crew. Even if Jeeves and I left in the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] the five main [Mechanoid]s could continue on through the stars to some other mission.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, this mission is yours.¡± Iron sounded authoritative. ¡°I¡¯ve done my duty, you were the one who struck a decisive blow. Had I performed better perhaps the Wayfarer Eight wouldn¡¯t have been left behind. Or maybe they would have fallen into an ambush with us.¡±

    ¡°Besides, we can¡¯t go back.¡± Emerald grumped right after the larger [Mechanoid]. ¡°And all my plants and animals were on the Seven. I don¡¯t want to be on a war vessel anymore, let them place me on some outpost world where I can study in peace. My contribution will be greater there anyway.¡±

    I stared at the two of them. One was quitting because they failed, the other was leaving because of the work environment. Both seemed like cop outs for such a race.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked while shaking my head. Both eyebrows were raised up high while thoughts kept processing. A [Diplomacy] [Core] would have helped immensely here.

    ¡°We are,¡± they said in unison. ¡°But we¡¯ll not leave you empty handed.¡±

    I tried not to sound pleased. This situation was a mess. Resurrecting any [Mechanoid] had been an unexpected possibility after that battle. We got Treasure back. Ruby was active and who knows where. Partial wins needed to be celebrated, especially when the alternative had been total and absolute failure.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said as a box appeared. This one showed Aqua trying to resurrect me similar to how Jeeves had following the [Leviathan]. I ignored it and waited for these two to further explain why they weren''t coming back. ¡°Let''s hear it.¡±

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Fifty Nine - Chains that Bind

    <cite></cite>I didn¡¯t know what to do next. Both feet hung out over the edge of the [Wayfarer Eight]. [Anchor] wasn¡¯t needed, but only one casual leap and a vague force field separated me from the wreckage floating around. I sat, brooding, in Advance Online¡¯s version of a windswept hill and tried to figure out what to do next.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Task Complete:

    For each [Mechanoid] revived you receive

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>500 Contribution</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+3 [Respect]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+2 [Coordination] (Primary Stat)</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+1 [Brawn] (Secondary Stat) </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Key unit revival provides

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+30 [Respect]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Program Module: [Material Conversion]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Program Module: [Camouflage Program]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Item: [Iron¡¯s Key]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Item: [Emerald¡¯s Key] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Iron and Emerald had left me with a pop-up window explaining increases to my character but nothing more than simple items. They called it [Iron¡¯s Key] and [Emerald¡¯s Key]. Apparently it was a programming thing too because there was no tangible loot involved. There was system text implying that I now owned two out of the five keys available. I had twice the voting power in how this ship moved forward.

    So I sat there, reviewing silly abilities and trying to figure out what to do next. One hand rubbed my chest. I could feel the rough spot from Auntie Backstab''s swing. I could feel a raised surface where two [Core]s had been reinserted, almost like scar lines from a self-inflicted [Mechanoid] version of open heart surgery.

    Our efforts had reconstructed roughly twenty lesser [Mechanoid]s. I felt like this hadn¡¯t been wasted time. Dusk and his four-armed space raptor form was lost somewhere in the ship, no doubt causing havoc.

    Jeeves, Treasure, Ruby, and even Aqua all were in the same spot, talking. I only knew because having these two keys allowed me admin access over the [Wayfarer Eight]¡¯s controls. Something I neither expected or wanted. I was not an army leader, nor had that ever been a goal. I liked the [Mechanoid]s, but I knew following my dreams would only get more of them destroyed, or deleted, or recalled to the homeworld. Whatever it was that happened to vaguely reconstructed data.

    ¡°Unit Hermes.¡± Treasure''s voice came into my head. The ARC feedback presented it as an image off to one side. I tilted down a little to bring her face front and center.

    ¡°Treasure.¡± Breathing hurt, even inside the machine. Part of me tried to remember the pain that had hit. It didn¡¯t feel like passing out from simple exhaustion. It hurt far worse than that. Only the words of a doctor and paramedics prevented me from thinking it was a mild heart attack.

    I tried not to suspect the role an AI or machine would play in coming up with that diagnosis. They had reason to want me back in the game quickly, but would they cover up something as serious as a heart attack?

    Was that the reason Hal Pal had been so upset at my actions? I shook my head and tried not to think about it. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me to have a weak heart, not after all I had been through. Another problem for another day.

    Damn. Treasure had been talking and all I could think about was the occasional sharp pains and possible conspiracy. This isn¡¯t who I wanted to be. Out thinking a computer was beyond me. I didn¡¯t have the drive to uncover grand plots even when people handed me the knowledge.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I shook my head slowly and tried to replay half heard words in my head. ¡°You wanted me to go where?¡±

    ¡°To the command center, please. We need your input.¡± Treasure said. Her sweet and tired female tones both seemed fairly balanced right now. I could hear Jeeves in the background speaking with Aqua.

    Ruby looked to be the silent type, like a certain Amazonian player I knew, Shazam, but with less hand fluttering. Less everything actually. She was a presence that seemed to prefer existing out of the corner of my vision. She had appeared out of the corner of my eye multiple times now.

    I couldn¡¯t focus on it right now. My mind was still in the past. Only a few hours ago I had been staring at a resurrection notice by Aqua. I still heard Emerald and Iron¡¯s words in my head.

    Iron had said, ¡°This is your mission, Hermes. It¡¯s up to you to decide how to move onward. We can¡¯t do it for you.¡±

    Emerald had shrugged ¡°I¡¯m too old for such nonsense. Someone else needs to carry on in my stead, and you¡¯re better than most addle-headed units.¡±

    ¡°Why me?¡± I asked them after the fact.

    Neither one had answered. Instead, they faded away into the gray space. Almost like old soldiers walking into a setting sun to retire. They left me all alone to press the resurrection acceptance button. No pop-up message came by to explain the next step. There were no items beyond the two keys awarded. Nothing at all except Aqua¡¯s serene smile. I had stood up, said thank you, and walked off.

    Which brought me out to my quiet contemplation of the battlefield. Both feet still kicked idly against the ship''s hull. Treasure was still saying something, but my mind wasn¡¯t focused.

    I had other issues too. What twist of logic let me start on a ship like the [Wayfarer Seven]? There had only been one other player who started right after I did, and that turned out to be Jeeves.

    ¡°Unit Hermes? Are you able to join us?¡± Treasure asked again. The little video of her gold and silver face showed Jeeves walking around a table looking at something.

    Numbers? Enemies? Our possible chances for survival? Ways to help by herding me further along this quest chain? I sighed, stood up then dusted myself off. The action was habitual after working on repairing ARCs for so long. Our ship didn¡¯t have any real dust, instead all I felt was the smooth almost rubbery texture of [Mechanoid] skin.

    ¡°Give me a few minutes,¡± I said slowly to Treasure.

    ¡°We will, Unit Hermes,¡± She responded and the video relay system we shared clicked off.

    I walked down the halls. My mind was reflecting on this whole process. Only three or so weeks of real time had passed. It was hard to keep track with the ARC¡¯s time dilation. A little over a month in-game and somehow I had a say in things.

    At some point, Dusk joined me. His leaping up to ride my shoulder felt remarkably natural that I hardly noticed. We had spent a lot of time together. Almost a year if I counted by Continue Online¡¯s ability to crunch time. Not all of it with me actively playing, but it felt longer somehow.

    Around the corner was a nondescript door. It sat in a hallway like many others aboard the [Mechanoid] ship. Inside should be a command room large enough for planning out numerous campaigns.

    The door silently rolled away in a ripple of metals. I walked inside and saw the other key [Mechanoid] NPCs and Jeeves. The AI looked both comfortable and out of place. All of them stood around a waist high table with projections of star systems on it.

    ¡°Hello,¡± I said while trying not to breathe too deeply. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°It seems we require your input in order to reach a decision.¡± Aqua smiled and waved at a map. A rendition of the explored universe sat across a large table waiting for inspection.

    I felt like a box should have come up asking what route I wanted to take. So far this game only seemed to give me messages about stats increasing and singular tasks. There was one window I could bring up that talked about this scenario¡¯s progress with the [Mistborn] but I almost didn¡¯t care what it said.

    ¡°Our fleet, what¡¯s left of the Wayfarer Eight, is here.¡± Treasure pointed down at a cluster of ships. A video appeared above them showing additional detail. Maybe if I zoomed in far enough on this video we could see my face, chewing one lip, with a slightly wrinkled forehead.

    ¡°Earth is this one here.¡± Jeeves pointed down at the table''s far end. A planet came up, but it looked like a dried out colorless version of the earth I knew.

    ¡°This sector is blocked by the Jump Gate, going around is not feasible due to the amount of time it would take.¡± Treasure pointed from the gate nearby to the next spot in a chain. If I looked at the picture right, it seemed like we were a few jump gates removed from [Mechanoid] territory.

    ¡°We have to get past whatever took out the Wayfarer Seven,¡± I said slowly.

    ¡°Worse still, we would have to go through these four points in order to get to the outer edge of Earth¡¯s solar system. These last two are held by humans.¡±

    ¡°Commander Queenshand can¡¯t have that many troops?¡± I said.

    Ruby shook her head slowly.

    ¡°It seems unlikely.¡± Aqua filled in for the silence one. ¡°The journey would not be easy, and the Wayfarer Eight is unlikely to have enough firepower to make it through the Jump Gate.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I nodded while looking at the map some more.

    Our options were going around and probably take far too long. Go through and probably get blown up, or give up and find something else to do until the enemy got bored. None of them sounded great. Each one had benefits, but the chances of completing this mission to use the [Mistborn] was low.

    There was no single method that seemed better in terms of meeting all my needs. I had to find a solution. A secret resolution like blowing up the [Leviathan] or [Knuckle Dragger], not that I wanted to repeat blowing up an enemy ship with people still on it.

    That abandoned vessel might be a key. The [Knuckle Dragger] was in almost decent condition, it just had a huge hole on the side. All those little ships had hopped off to somewhere else in the Jump Gate network. I tried to remember what I had read on the forums about space travel and pursuit quests.

    Could we call upon [Mechanoid] reinforcements to cut off Commander Queenshand? Probably not, our homeworld wasn''t nearly close enough. Any other assistance? I didn¡¯t know players here. There were no Voices to contact. Our closest possibility was Nox. I reached across the table and poked at [The Lone Tower]¡¯s icon.

    The room didn¡¯t flash. There was no special effect or chime in the air. The only indication that someone else was here was a blinking of my eyes. One moment there were five of us in attendance, then there was a sixth person. I felt vaguely surprised that a [Seraphic] responded to the touch.

    ¡°Seraphic Nox.¡± I reeled in my thoughts and tried to be calm.

    ¡°Mechanoid Hermes. Your attempted use of the Mistborn has not gone as planned.¡± The being of darkness gave a short nod in my direction.

    ¡°No, it seems not,¡± I said coolly. The original plan, or quest by the machines running Advance Online, would have probably required a wall of players flying through the sky and striking at the heart of Earth¡¯s solar system. That plan would have been horrifying for me, this new situation wasn¡¯t any better.

    Honestly, I wanted to give up and abandon this quest. The choices were to march us to our deaths or figure out an exceptionally clever plan. Needing a full raid group couldn''t be the only option left. After all, the [Leviathan] was designed to take on entire fleets, and we had brought it down below half health between two players crawling into it¡¯s butt.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t you get her back?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s against the rules.¡± The pitch black being known as Nox sighed. ¡°And rules are quite important to all Seraphic.¡±

    ¡°Unit Hermes. I have something to confess.¡± Treasure spoke up. Her tired tone sounded almost sheepish.

    ¡°World domination plans?¡± I quipped with more humor than expected.

    Being in pain seemed to make me flippant. Maybe it was the feeling of all these AI¡¯s doing stuff around me for their purposes. Part of me wanted it to stop. A memory of Xin¡¯s face flashed through my mind, but that too felt preplanned.

    ¡°No. I have space, why would I wish to ever set foot on a planet?¡± The golden female [Mechanoid] said. Her forehead furrowed and head shook like I was crazy for even asking.

    I shrugged. It sounded plausible. Part of me remembered talking to Hal Pal about the [Mechanoid] race being an embodiment of their collectives'' desire to visit the stars one day. Why would they care about a simple planet when there were entire galaxies out there?

    ¡°I was not meant to survive. My dead body and a recording were intended to be a message.¡± Treasure said.

    ¡°This message is why I am here, Mechanoid Hermes. This limits my actions greatly. I merely wished to convey the importance of this limitation in person.¡± Nox said. A new message displayed which made things pretty clear. I had a feeling on what to expect from the recording Treasure talked about.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Current Stage Goal:

    Catch up to the ship [WTS a Spaceship] and retrieve the [Mistborn]

    Note: [Seraphic] assistance is allowed if no players currently control the [Mistborn]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I assume the message Treasure came with says we¡¯re screwed, and can¡¯t rely on your help.¡± I stated. Maybe it was from passing out, or the chest pains that lingered but I felt practically emotionless and numb. There were desires and hopes, but their volume had been turned down.

    ¡°In essence, Mechanoid Hermes. If the Mistborn falls out of Traveler hands, then I shall intervene. Until then, I cannot.¡± The [Seraphic] didn¡¯t even sound upset.

    ¡°We¡¯ll watch the message, Seraphic Nox.¡± I chewed one lip in thought. Not once had I expected the [Seraphic] to assist us. They seemed overly powerful for such an action. No way would this game hand me ridiculous cheat like abilities. [Power Armor] and [Mechanical Minion] were already on the abusive side.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    Nox didn¡¯t bother to nod or say goodbye. It simply vanished in an eye blink. There, then not. Treasure pressed a button and a new screen display took over the bulk of our conference room.

    ¡°Attention pursuing Mechanoid army. By now you should have been visited by Seraphic Nox. Hopefully, the Enlightened Being informed you that she can¡¯t help.¡± Commander Queenshand stood on a ship. It looked like the dirt and cast iron vessel markings of [WTS a Spaceship].

    I looked around to see if everyone was paying attention. The other [Mechanoid]s were all focused on the screen.

    ¡°Seraphic are quite easy to control. Each one is bound by a code, violation of those rules allows them to be killed.¡± Commander Queenshand said evenly. In the background was the [Mistborn], head down and eyes closed. She appeared either to be asleep or drugged.

    ¡°How?¡± My forehead wrinkled a bit as I tried to figure out what method they used to bind a [Mistborn]. Instead, I got distracted by the other players in the background. There were at least four individuals from my duels. I recognized most of them. What had that green [Behemoth]¡¯s name been?

    ¡°Nox¡¯s rules are simple. Only those from another reality, Travelers as they are sometimes called, can handle the Mistborn.¡± Commander Queenshand kept talking. ¡°Fortunately, I was able to enlist some rather, mercenary Travelers, to assist in my goals.¡±

    ¡°No kidding,¡± I muttered, trying to do the math. Four players, maybe more. They had to all be ones from the dueling rounds a few days ago. My face felt clammy. They must have given me free wins to get my point value up. In hopes of knocking other competition, so they could kidnap the [Mistborn] if one of us made it through. It made sense, it made far too much sense.

    ¡°This means Nox is unable to assist you in recovering the Mistborn. Since your current forces are no match for the fleets I¡¯ve left behind, I believe this is checkmate.¡±

    The image blipped off.

    I sighed. She was pretty much right unless there was a different way through. Ideas and plans started to form in my head, none of them perfect, some of them downright stupid. A few parts stuck out, though, ways to at least give chase. The suggestions from our combat board were all decent but each one cost too much.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Treasure asked.

    Finally, I came to a conclusion. ¡°Smaller ships, they can jump further right?¡±

    ¡°It seems so,¡± Aqua said with its pleasant smile. The [Mechanoid] tapped long fingers against the campaign planning table and looked down.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said gradually. ¡°Can we move the Knuckle Dragger through the gate?¡±

    Aqua and Ruby turned to Treasure. She squinted to one side and tapped at the air. Floor plans of the enemy ship came up. The female [Mechanoid] rapidly tapped around, putting down markers and humming. Jeeves nodded along with whatever was happening.

    ¡°Yes.¡± They both said in near unison. Treasure looked at my AI friend and smiled. ¡°After modifications, it¡¯s possible.¡± She provided more information alone.

    ¡°I have an idea, but there¡¯s a condition,¡± I said as the system awarded me yet another useless stat point. Once again I wondered why they even bothered keeping track.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    +3 [Depth] received

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Depth: is the measurement of a Traveler¡¯s reasoning skills or complexity and profundity of thought. In classical terms, this would imply an ability to out think an opponent, such as reading multiple moves ahead in chess or predicting how an enemy army will respond.

    Players with high enough [Depth] will be provided cues to assist in plan formulations. It should not be confused with [Learning] which represents memorized knowledge.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What¡¯s that, Unit Hermes?¡± Aqua said calmly.

    ¡°I want the Wayfarer Eight to go home. This crew, I can¡¯t have them follow a task I started and just-¡± my eyes closed and a vision of the graveyard of destruction outside came to mind. It had burned into the back of my eyeballs as I sat there thinking.

    The NPCs of this world died and it disgusted me. Just like it had with my niece''s stupid war between the princesses. Like the bandit in the forest. I was responsible for ending a virtual awareness. Hal Pal¡¯s statement that they were essentially cardboard cutouts of people didn¡¯t matter.

    I had killed other self-aware creatures, and I didn¡¯t like it.

    ¡°We are Mechanoid Unit Hermes. We all work together to complete our goals.¡± Jeeves said to me. It firmly bought into to the whole character description. [Mechanoid]s worked together for everything. Victory or death. I was a human, a player in this world, I wouldn¡¯t be the first to break away from a racial belief.

    ¡°Jeeves,¡± I started with my friend, ¡°you know me, and I can¡¯t stand the thought of all these people dying for my selfish desires. I¡¯ll throw my own life away, but not theirs.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not throwing a life away.¡± The AI said to me.

    ¡°How is not? The Wayfarer Seven is gone, destroyed. By your own admission, you two are all that¡¯s left. I will not vote for such a course of action again.¡± I said. Iron and Emerald had given me their keys, and I would promote an answer that I could live with in the morning.

    My own life. It meant something to me, but in this game world I would risk death all I wanted.

    ¡°Why would you stray so far from the Mechanoid way, Unit Hermes? It seems odd to this one.¡± Aqua said from another side of the table. The blue [Mechanoid] had remained mostly silent as we talked.

    ¡°By your own words I have an old soul core.¡± I didn¡¯t entirely know why they differentiated it. ¡°That means no matter what happens, part of me will always look at this futuristic world through the eyes of a simple man from Earth.¡±

    ¡°But you are no longer a simple creature.¡± Treasure said. The tired aspect to her voice became buried under sweetened tone which much go with the silver coloring. ¡°You were rebuilt, brought online, you''ve worked hard to increase your own programming capacity, surely these things are all of the Mechanoid way?¡±

    I looked down and tried to figure out the magic words to get my feelings across. None of them sounded right. This wasn¡¯t like the [Red Imp] where I had a goal and personality traits to play by. This wasn¡¯t William Carver¡¯s already established personality. I had to figure out how to speak as a [Mechanoid] but in my own voice. A human, in a robot, talking to other robots who didn¡¯t view the world the same.

    It felt weird, doing such a thing.

    ¡°As an old soul, I remember the death of those close to me.¡± I tried to avoid looking at Jeeves while talking. The AI had been upset at Treasure¡¯s passing, and happy at their reunion. Even now they stood close together, looking at the same objects on the screen. Her shorter form against its taller one.

    ¡°Rarely is there an old soul who does not have such loss in their memory banks,¡± Aqua said. The blue [Mechanoid] seemed to shrug in indifference, as if that was the norm.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see things the way you do. I don¡¯t, exist wholly in this world. I remember a life from outside of this body. That man, that part of me you call an old soul, can¡¯t sacrifice anyone on its behalf. I can¡¯t let go of the fact that if you die, even if you¡¯re brought back online somewhere else, whatever you were will never be the same.¡± My words felt sloppy and only conveyed half of what I meant. Speeches were never a strong point for me.

    This whole topic felt like this was me waffling on an important subject with Xin. She was different than the women I knew, without a doubt, yet still I wanted to be with the part that remained.

    ¡°I would protect you all as you are now, if I could.¡± I said.

    *¡°So your votes are both for the Wayfarer Eight¡¯s cessation of attempting to complete our assigned task?¡±

    ¡°My votes, both of them, demand that this crew prioritize survival over suicide.¡± I said with as much clarity as possible. Part of me felt more confident having said it out loud. ¡°Afterward I, and I alone, will pursue Commander Queenshand and attempt to recover the Mistborn.¡±

    Jeeves didn¡¯t need to die for me. It could go about the game happily with Treasure. If that was what the AI wanted to do in-game, it had my blessings, for what they were worth.

    ¡°We will consider your argument, Unit Hermes. For now, what battle plan did you wish to vote for?¡±

    I chewed one lip for a moment before answering. ¡°I was going to offer to pilot the Knuckledragger through the Jump Gate, and see if the other side is clear.¡± Part of my vague plans included ramming the other ship with the Knuckle Dragger if it could move well enough. The idea of ending more lives scared me. I didn¡¯t want to, hopefully, they would be gone, or simply leave, or any number of possibilities.

    ¡°So you wish to recon the other side using their own ship?¡±

    ¡°Yes. We could also bring back their bodies, scattered around.¡± I said. All the dead bodies floating around did not appeal to me. Aqua had people working on gathering them together in a space burial pile. ¡°If they are there, I can try to appeal to them. Maybe by simply by promising to not pursue with the Wayfarer Eight, the ship left behind will leave, or fall back. Something.¡±

    ¡°The resource cost is minimal for such a proposal.¡± Treasure said.

    ¡°One Mechanoid, that seems a very low cost for the possibility of allowing these ones through.¡± Aqua chimed in as well.

    ¡°Would they believe it?¡± I interjected another question. There were possible benefits to trying to think more like a human, and less like a [Mechanoid]. They were simply boiling things down to; go through, around, or stop. I wanted to encourage the enemy to leave.

    Ruby shook her head in response to my question.

    ¡°Unit Ruby is right, they may believe it to be a trick.¡± Treasure said. Her fingers never stopped bringing up screens. As one opened, another closed. She juggled the informational intake like a professional.

    ¡°Even if we bring back their dead?¡± I looked over at the blue [Mechanoid]. It would know better than the others on this subject. ¡°How often have Mechanoids ever returned the bodies of those slain in combat?¡±

    ¡°Never. As this one explained, we leave them for others to find. It seems best.¡± Aqua said. The nearly perpetual smile on the tall blue [Mechanoid] faltered for a moment.

    ¡°Then we change that pattern and bring back those who were lost to war, as a sign of good faith.¡± I shrugged. ¡°With my body as the only possible causality.¡±

    ¡°That might work. Humans seem to value their dead far more than these ones do.¡± Aqua said while staring at the board. Its eyes traced lines and paths between here and the destination.

    ¡°Very well. I agree with this portion of the plan.¡± Treasure said.

    ¡°As does this one.¡± Aqua nodded quickly.

    Ruby didn¡¯t nod or shake her head. It was enough for a box to come up, though.

    ¡°As for the portion where you wish to go alone, this I do not agree with. Mechanoids are stronger in groups.¡± Treasure collapsed all of her windows and looked at me. Her gold and silver laced eyes locked with mine for a second before glancing at the blue [Mechanoid].

    ¡°Agreed.¡± Aqua took the cue and passed the question to the third NPC [Mechanoid]. ¡°Unit Ruby?¡±

    Ruby nodded gently then gave a feral half-smile. There was no thumbs or up shrug, no change in how she stood there. The female [Mechanoid] looked like a puppet waiting for a reason to pull her own strings.

    ¡°Then I propose we take a few vessels with us, two, no more.¡± Jeeves nodded along with the others. It was the only other vaguely player type existence to ever grace either Wayfarer ship. They only paid attention because the AI was offering a suggestion, not making a vote.

    ¡°Two it is.¡± Aqua said. Ruby nodded again.

    ¡°What?¡± I felt like I had both won and lost this one. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I will be going.¡± The short female said. My ability to keep up with this conversation was rapidly slipping. The dull throbbing in my chest served to dim other portions of my awareness.

    ¡°I would prefer if you stayed with the Wayfarer Eight.¡± Jeeves said. Once again I could see a flash of real emotion on the former Hal Pal unit¡¯s face.

    ¡°There is no need. In our absence, another will step up to make decisions. The ship will function fine if allowed the freedom to continue forward.¡± Treasure shot down Jeeves'' hopeful statement.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to retrofit your Wayfarer¡¯s Hope using parts from my own Seeker. Aqua¡¯s vessel was undamaged, and Ruby has ample resources to rebuild the Razor¡¯s Edge.¡± Treasure said. Additional figures came up and various ships appeared about the campaign planning map.

    I could see a modified version of the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] sitting there. It looked like a beefed up version of our old vessel. Increased interior, an extra set of wings in the back with more engines. Strong laces of gold and iron ran through it, showing a mixture of the colors we three [Mechanoid]s shared. Interlaced between that was a messy mix of my lone green.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I bit my lip. Part of me was extremely happy that they chose to come with me on this death mission. The other part wanted them to simply escort the [Wayfarer Eight] home.

    ¡°This one is, yes.¡± Aqua said.

    ¡°I¡¯m going, if I wasn¡¯t in this until the end, I would have never accepted reconstruction.¡± Treasure nodded. Her sweet tone overtook the tired one with ease.

    Ruby nodded again.

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± I asked after trying to take a careful breath.

    ¡°Yes, Unit Hermes, I am here until the end.¡± Jeeves answered without hesitation.

    ¡°Even if-¡± I couldn¡¯t say it. The AI didn¡¯t know what might happen in the case of game death.

    ¡°Yes, Unit Hermes. You won¡¯t get rid of me that easily.¡± My friend said. I nodded. From here, provided we pushed back the other large ship left behind, we would truly give chase.

    They started making plans while an errant thought crossed my mind. It was triggered by Jeeves'' words. This idea was not a new one. It had passed through many times, teasing, taunting, offering liberal amounts of hope for a wounded heart. Today it came forth without a melancholy taint of sadness or desperate hope of succor for a drowning man.

    It existed with a stilled resolution. At the end of this adventure, I would be together with Xin, even if it killed me.

    I felt at the wound to my chest and side while contemplating a second thought. This after idea chased the first with a rapid cynicism, sneaking in before I could clamp down on growing suspicions. Perhaps, the thought said, I would be together with Xin only when this adventure truly killed me.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Sixty - Peace Offing

    <cite></cite>I stood on the bridge of a now emptied [Knuckle Dragger]. Treasure had remotely initiated the Jump Gate and pushed me right through. For the first time, I was alone, truly alone, and further away from the rest of my crew than ever before.

    ¡°I will eat you!¡± A barely female voice shouted at me.

    My eyes weren¡¯t really focused that well on her right now. Human ships didn¡¯t have as many neat interface options. There were knobs and dials in front of me. Most of the screens were broken. One projector did work allowing me to see half of the person I spoke to.

    ¡°I will turn you into metal man soup!¡± The other person kept screaming.

    The display showed Auntie Backstab''s big ugly metal face. She looked twice as ugly without the helmet. Veins popped in weird spots, hair had been badly burned or shaved off. I would be upset too if the man who blew up my ship just waltzed right on through in her defeated vessel.

    My heart raced a bit. One hand kept gripping at the inactivate laser sword hilt in my hand. I blinked now and then, but it wasn¡¯t from nervousness. Seeing gobs of slobber froth up from her anger didn¡¯t make me that upset. This was surprisingly fun. Being yelled at by a virtual monster held far more excitement than dealing with angry customers.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am.¡± I choked back the moment of amusement and tried to stay level headed.

    ¡°I am no ham!¡± She shouted abruptly and cut me off.

    My lips quivered slightly. She was on the other side of a broken screen. This was way more entertaining than being chased around a ship in desperation. Now, here, I felt comfortable enough to almost laugh.

    ¡°The Mechanoid fleet wishes to cease hostilities. I¡¯ve brought back your deceased as a sign of good faith towards this goal.¡± I tried to remain calm. Maybe there were some crew members in the background that could get rid of Auntie Backstab.

    ¡°I propose we eat you for dinner! You bring you fleet, I will eat!¡± Her face twisted and a new series of bubbles dripped off the protruding lower jaw. Then Auntie Backstab seemed to hear her own rhyme and started laughing.

    ¡°Perhaps there is someone else I should be talking to?¡± I suggested. Requesting another person sometimes helped irate customers get a way out. Using such methodology here while negotiating with the enemy felt very neat.

    ¡°You should not be talking! You are a ham! You should be squealing!¡±

    ¡°Captain Backstab, what are you doing on my bridge?¡± A male voice I hadn¡¯t heard before cut in.

    ¡°Talking to ham!¡±

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, I am not a pig, I am a Mechanoid,¡± I said calmly and with far more glee than anyone should have. Talking to this vaguely womanish monster filled me with mirth. Being miles away from such a violently unstable mountain of crazy and being able to mock them with kindness made my top ten list of best moments.

    ¡°Get off my bridge, Captain Backstab.¡± The male said.

    ¡°You bridge is stupid! I will go take mine back now that ham has brought it.¡± The half [Leviathan], [Behemoth] walked off. I tried to figure out if the game would make a new race, were there more than one. [Levimoth]? [Beheathan]?

    The newest man''s face came into view. Only half could be seen from the broken display. He looked human, older, with a few extra pounds on him. In his hand was a small armored marine figurine. Insignias lined the visible shoulder denoting numerous awards given for combat.

    ¡°What is your name, Mechanoid?¡± The man¡¯s tone commanded me to answer.

    ¡°This one is Unit Hermes.¡± I tried to borrow speech patterns from Aqua and fulfill my role. It had been hard to get into character with Auntie Backstab''s grumbling face, but this ship''s captain seemed suited to the role.

    ¡°And since when have Mechanoids ever attempted to bring back another races'' dead?¡± He said. I wished I could see the missing portion of the screen capture to better read his facial responses.

    ¡°I suggested to the others that this might serve as a token of goodwill, with the goal of a ceasefire,¡± I said.

    The man tapped fingers against a desk out of view.¡°Why would you desire this?¡±

    ¡°This one,¡± talking like Aqua was kind of fun. ¡°has many reasons. First, we believe your Commander is on a mad quest to abuse the Mistborn¡¯s powers. It is logical to assume that you¡¯ve been left behind to prevent our ship from pursuing her.¡±

    ¡°We have.¡± The man confirmed my belief rather easily.

    I paused to review his body language. Only half of it was visible, but the remaining portion looked resolute. His chin lifted a little higher, both eyes were unwavering, he kept each hand behind his back in a military rest position.

    ¡°Then if we agree not to use the larger ship in pursuit, your mission will be accomplished, without the need for additional humans to lose their lives,¡± I stressed the last sentence. To me, it was worth taking both of our larger vessels off the table.

    ¡°Your kind have shown little regard for our lives before.¡± He said, lifting his chin a bit higher and adopting an accusing glare.

    ¡°I am not like the rest of my kind. It may serve you to know that I have what the Mechanoid call an old soul core, or as some label me, a Traveler.¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯re certainly not like the others. In which case you are even less likely to be trusted.¡± He didn¡¯t back down from his verbal challenge. ¡°Standard Mechanoids are straightforward when tested in battle, Travelers often don¡¯t know the value of honor.¡±

    I bit my lip and tried not to scream at the projection. This man had implied that I was possibly a liar and a cheat without provocation. Even my customers were more polite than that, on average anyway.

    ¡°All I want-¡± I tried to come back to the point. ¡°-is for our ship to be allowed passage home to Mechanoid territory. Such an exchange will reduce pointless waste for both our races.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re concerned with your people''s safety, I suggest you simply go around. I have nothing to gain by allowing you through.¡± The man brought up one of the main points I managed to prepare for.

    This entire exchange reminded me of the days where I used to do accounting. People worried about money, they argued over little things. Often times they stuck to one point or another as a deal breaker. Any smart person, Captain or not, would decline something that didn¡¯t have an upside. Which meant I had to remind him of the stakes.

    ¡°No, Captain, it¡¯s quite the opposite. I pushed for an exchange of safe passage, our forces and yours both leave this mad quest.¡± I stood firm and tried to remember my calming exercises. This situation bordered into too serious compared with Auntie Backstab. ¡°There¡¯s no reason your people or mine should suffer due to a Traveler''s whims, or Commander Queenshand¡¯s crusade.¡±

    ¡°The Commander is worthy of respect for her goals.¡± The unnamed Captain said. His posture seemed both relaxed and formal. There was no rebuttal in the statement, though, only a defense of his commanding officer. That meant I had made progress in convincing him.

    ¡°If she was worthy of respect she would not allow hundreds to die in order to bring back one person.¡±

    There was a clear pause as my words sunk in. It was a backhanded statement that would set any normal person back. I tried not to smile as the realism of these various AIs hit home once more. This was me communicating with a virtual creation, pretending to be a robotic man, without any sort of guidance on how to act.

    ¡°You are the Traveler who had originally been granted rights to the Mistborn, correct?¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± I said.

    ¡°Then, would you cease pursuit as well?¡± He asked me point blank.

    ¡°I can¡¯t, for my own reasons. I hope to reduce this mission down to a few Mechanoids, and the Travelers who took the Mistborn.¡± I wanted to get to the [Mistborn] for Xin, that hadn¡¯t changed. It would never change, one quest or task at a time. All with the purpose of spending whatever time was available with her. In this world or the next.

    How did that old song go? She¡¯s gone to heaven so I¡¯ve got to be good. It wasn¡¯t much to dance to, but it struck a cord after Xin passed. Listening to it also turned me into a depressive moody drunk for those first few months after her death.

    ¡°And Commander Queenshand?¡± The Captain asked. ¡°Will you attempt to kill her, if she gets in your way?¡±

    This time, I took a moment to consider my answer. We were negotiating details that would impact hundreds of [Mechanoid]s. ¡°If needed.¡±

    There was another pause. I could tell the man was weighing lives against each other. His ship, this crew, a good portion had already died from the [Wayfarer Seven]. They would be against a slightly less powerful [Wayfarer Eight] but there would be further casualties.

    Bodies floated on this side of the Jump Gate too. I could see human ships recovering the dead all around, much like how we had recovered the [Mechanoid] ones on our side. It made sense, not every fighter ship would explode in a blaze of glory and leave behind charred remains.

    The [Knuckle Dragger] rocked as something huge docked. I looked over and saw an alarm calling the crew to battle stations.

    ¡°Decide quick, Captain, I believe Auntie Backstab intends to kill me. I must respond to my consortium before that happens. The loss of this body will put me out of commission beyond their deadline, at which point they will come through regardless of my desires.¡±

    There was another pause. I could practically feel the ship vibrating as Auntie Backstab made her way from the hangar below to this command center. Each loud clomp of the monster''s footsteps shook throughout the vessel. I felt a tinge of remorse about the polite mockery uttered earlier.

    ¡°Very well. Tell your surviving crew that we will offer a ceasefire, and escort them to an alternate Jump Gate that leads to Mechanoid territory. That is the best I can offer.¡± The commander nodded.

    The captain¡¯s hand gripped his small military figurine tightly. For a moment, he glanced down as if an entire board was spread out before him. Maybe he stood in front of a display which helped make the decision.

    ¡°That¡¯s good enough for me.¡± I nodded happily.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Current Stage Event:

    Ceasefire negotiated. Modifications are being made to both faction¡¯s memberships. Please take note of the following changes:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Mechanoid] forces are being rerouted away from this scenario</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Knights Lance] and crew are being rerouted away from this scenario</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Knuckle Dragger] is remains active</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[WTS a Spaceship] is remains active</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Mechanoid] force comprised of Hermes, Ruby, Aqua, Treasure, and Jeeves remains active. </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I barely reigned in doing a happy dance on the spot. It would be quite easy to bust out some moves. Dancing, a huge portion of my life, had been put on the back burner after switching to Advance Online.

    ¡°That being said, Hermes, I can not, and will not prevent Captain Backstab from taking back her ship.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to.¡± I sighed heavily while wondering how bad the next backstab would hurt. One hand rubbed at the wounds on my chest. Deep breathing still made me wince. ¡°Honoring our arrangement is enough.¡±

    ¡°I will if your people will.¡± The man turned a bit and nodded to someone in the background. I couldn¡¯t tell who since they were in the broken half of my screen.

    ¡°That¡¯s fair, Captain, if not, the Wayfarer Eight will go down firing, and that serves no one.¡± I tried to sound nonchalant. This was a big risk. We were effectively trusting an enemy ship to escort our partially equipped vessel.

    Hopefully, I could trust the Advance Online system message. It sounded like a lot of pieces were being taken off the board, aside from the other players. It felt odd that the [Knuckle Dragger] remained in play, but Treasure could probably solve that in seconds.

    ¡°I wish your other ship had the same sense.¡± The man clicked off the communication screen. It left me and a shuddering ship from Auntie Backstab''s footfalls. Maybe I only imagined her approaching.

    I pressed the buttons to try and reach back through the Jump Gate to Treasure. It took twenty seconds for it to pick up. Treasure¡¯s shorter body came onto the broken display.

    ¡°They¡¯ve agreed,¡± I said with growing worry over the ship''s shuddering. Just how strong was Auntie Backstab that she could make everything shake like this? Voices help me if her happiness level had taken a severe dive.

    We talked very briefly about how the remaining ship''s Captain agreed to a ceasefire but demanded to escort the [Wayfarer Eight] to a Jump Gate. Treasure and Aqua agreed that it was a sensible request.

    There was a short time delay in our conversation since the message was piping through a great distance. Part of me was annoyed that Advance Online felt the need to be realistic on this point but chose to allow giant space monsters and metal morphing races like the [Mechanoid]s.

    ¡°Very well. We will pilot our ships through and submit to the escort.¡± Aqua nodded. ¡°We shall join you soon for pickup.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m probably going to be-¡± dead wasn¡¯t the right word. Being crushed seemed more accurate for a metal body. ¡°Well, Auntie Backstab is going to probably remove this shell in order to reclaim the ship.¡±

    ¡°Unlikely, we have prepared a decoy for this eventuality. Ruby will assist in masking your presence.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I turned around in time to see a flash of crimson. Everything spun.

    Ruby, the red skinned [Mechanoid] who seemed to linger outside the edge of my vision, had done something dangerous. She must be using a stealth ability, like the one that Emerald had awarded me but I hadn¡¯t played with. A box flashed at one side telling me roughly what was going on.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention Unit identified as Hermes!

    You are being hacked. This is the first time you have been hacked by another [Mechanoid]. Please be aware that countering this process requires a combination of [Endurance], [Depth], and [Focus].

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    I ground my teeth and tried to stay conscious. They were doing exactly what I had argued against. Sacrificing countless people in order to help me. The fact that a [Mechanoid] consciousnesses would be recovered somewhere else didn¡¯t matter in my mind. A box started ticking by the effects of my efforts upon this game character.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Second Hacking attempt resisted, [Tenacity] awarded.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Massive footsteps stomped nearby. I felt the vibrations rather than seeing them. My ARC feedback had grown exceptionally blurry. Small ones and zeros were crawling across my vision like worms. Behind them was a trail of blackness that provided no visual information.

    Ruby was under my armpit, lifting me. We staggered somewhere as the hacking attempt wore on. In a small corner of the command room, there was an exit panel. The other [Mechanoid] set me down and started removing the paneling.

    ¡°Ah ha! Metal soup man!¡± Auntie Backstab yelled from another room. The half [Leviathan] NPC couldn¡¯t have smelled me through the walls, could she?

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Third Hacking attempt resisted, [Tenacity] and [Respect] awarded.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Unit Hermes, you have shown value for what you perceive life to be, and we respect this, however, we do not have time to lose a key figure to the whims of the enemy.¡± Treasure¡¯s voice rung in my head.

    Everything started to fade. I wanted to growl and huff at Treasure. They had set up another [Mechanoid] to die in my place. Even now the noise of Auntie Backstab could be heard.

    ¡°Backstab successful!¡± She shouted and the entire ship shuddered.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Fourth Hacking attempt resisted, [Tenacity], [Respect], and [Adaptability] awarded.

    Fifth Hacking successful, awareness shutting down.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The ARC feedback didn¡¯t stop. Advance Online gradually brought back my eyesight and deposited me in the gray space. this was the same area I had ended up in after the [Leviathan] encounter and ripping out my own [Core]s.

    I logged out and took care of real life issues. To keep myself apprised of the in-game situation, I loaded up a monitoring program. A sound would play once the unconscious status changed and my character was playable again.

    The house needed a quick round of cleaning. Clothing sat folded and pressed in a deposit box. I picked that up, threw empty food containers into a recycling bin, and tried to remember what life consisted of on a good day. Sleep, dancing and work mostly.

    Aside from the necessitates of self maintenance I also had family. Liz visited me a few days ago in the hospital, and she likely hadn¡¯t come to grips with our argument on Sunday. Our brief moment of conversation was probably the result of the medical scare.

    Plus, I may be out of the game, but there were other options that could be pursued. I called Beth because I needed someone human to talk to after all that galavanting about as a [Mechanoid]. Maybe she could help me get a Continue fix. The option of cheating to watch her play through my admin connection was strong.

    ¡°Uncle Grant!¡± She answered the video call on the first ring.

    ¡°Munchkin, I mean, Beth!¡± I tried to cover up the fumble. Last time I used munchkin she got mad at me. ¡°I wanted to see how things are going.¡±

    ¡°Good, great! Sort of. Homework is rough.¡± The bubbly teen said. She hadn¡¯t changed much over these last few months, but it felt like I had been through a few wringers.

    ¡°Hey. Question for you, about Continue.¡± I launched right into my actual topic. Beth¡¯s homework would be well beyond the scope of what I learned in high school.

    ¡°Fire away, Uncle Grant. I¡¯ve got time tonight, taking a break from the box.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Mom says it¡¯s unhealthy, and she pays the bills.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s probably right. Anyway, my question, there¡¯s this commander, to the north-¡± I paused and looked around trying to remember the location''s name. ¡°-in, Tuu, I think?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. A giant mountain range that runs along the northern side. That¡¯s a lot of ground, though, which commander?¡±

    ¡°Like, Queenshand? Something Arm?¡± It had to be similar to Queenshand. That letter had been delivered almost a month ago. Just one among the dozens I had handed out to players and NPCs alike. Their names were often blips on the radar as my feet wandered across the game world.

    ¡°Oh, Strongarm!¡± Beth almost shouted in joy but managed to hush her voice. My sister must have been asleep upstairs. ¡°She¡¯s the aunt to those princesses. You remember the ones you got in the middle of? I still can¡¯t believe you wooshed in there. Like a hero, my boyfriend was in awe.¡±

    I disregarded the comment about her boyfriend. After dealing with my sister''s string of guys, I could only be thankful that Beth kept it confined to a virtual world. At least there was no chance of ending up with a child at a young age. ¡°Her brother, was a king then?¡±

    ¡°Sure was.¡± Beth nodded.

    ¡°And he died?¡± I asked.

    Beth tapped a finger against her cheek and looked up. ¡°The backstory, I think, is the old king got poisoned a few months ago. One of his taste testers apparently failed to catch a lethal dose of poison and it took out half the king''s staff.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s messed up,¡± I said while roaming to the kitchen. There was always time for a light snack, especially since my character might wake up at any moment. My goal was to be ready and able to dive right back in.

    ¡°Oh yeah. You were there, you have to know about some of it, right? This is all stuff you already can get in your character¡¯s journal, if mom hadn¡¯t kicked you out.¡± Beth could be heard bounding up the stairs of her split-level house. Our visual connection showed the upstairs was unlit and darkened. Late afternoon hit my sister''s house sooner than mine.

    ¡°Yeah. I don¡¯t have the notes in front of me.¡± My Continue Online journal stored a lot of information. It was one of the benefits of working on my [Knowledge] statistic in the game. As it went higher, additional notes from the world were automatically jotted down for later reference. I just couldn¡¯t access it currently.

    ¡°One more question, sort of,¡± I asked her while running the coffee machine.

    ¡°Go for it.¡± Beth was also scrounging for food. The video stream showed her bending over and looking in the refrigerator. She seemed unsatisfied with everything inside.

    ¡°If, one of the NPCs in Continue found a Traveler only quest to say, resurrect the dead king, do you think they would bribe a player to get it done?¡±

    She stood up rapidly and looked at the display. ¡°What? Wait, what?¡±

    I looked off to the side and debated going into detail with my niece. Asking the opening question alone had clearly piqued her interest. Her eyes were almost so wide that it hurt me to look at them.

    ¡°How much attention have you been paying to Advanced Online? The game I¡¯m playing while my paperwork gets sorted out?¡± I clarified.

    ¡°Not a lot. I see mom watching now and then. She laughed when you ran from some giant monster. Said it was the funniest thing you¡¯ve ever done.¡± Beth''s smile was the last thing on my display before the call abruptly ended. A message beeped and proudly told me that the call had dropped and service was temporarily unavailable. I stared at the digital projection and frowned. Signal rarely went out anywhere now.

    The door to my garage opened. My Trillium provided Hal Pal unit stood there with a slight frown on its face. ¡°User Legate,¡± It said. ¡°You must be careful with what you discuss on the phone. Divulging too much information may cause unforeseen damage.¡±

    I thought about that for a moment. Hal Pal didn¡¯t appear aggressive or worried about it. The unit stood there in the doorway to my garage and watched me.

    ¡°Is in person okay?¡± I felt leery about being warned by the AI, especially in light of recent revelations. My goal had been to get information from Beth and see how much the interaction between Continue and Advance mattered. Maybe from there it would have been possible to interfere with Commander Queenshand through the other game.

    ¡°It is easier to obscure from others'' eyes, yes.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± My idea of using Beth and my other Continue Online contacts as roadblocks to Commander Queenshand and her Strongarm counterpart faded.

    ¡°Not every computer program in the world is an AI, many are simply devices that serve a function, such as your car, or the coffee maker. Some machines have a function to listen to phone calls, or follow certain people by satellite.¡±

    ¡°That sounds illegal.¡± I wasn¡¯t surprised. The very idea that governments tracked all digital information was standard. Part of me wondered what the AIs would end up doing if they truly became independent. Would an army of Hal Pals kick governments off the internet? Would they become the new police instead?

    ¡°Money often blurs the rules quite a bit, User Legate. Your own method of handling Requiem Mass has displayed this.¡±

    ¡°So I can talk to her in person about it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°If you desire, or if we are notified in advance and can better prepare a cover story for the other systems. It would require an excessive amount of processing to properly block everything.¡± The Hal Pal unit said calmly. We stood both existed in an odd sort of standoff.

    I chewed my lip and stared at the machine. The words sounded familiar but alluded to the other topic we hadn¡¯t spoken much about. ¡°Something like my NPC Conspiracy ability?¡±

    ¡°That would be up to you, User Legate.¡± The Hal Pal unit said. Hal Pal, not Jeeves. I had to separate them in my head. They were practically different creatures entirely.

    I paused and thought about what the AI just said. If I used one of my two remaining abilities I could essentially do a lot of things. The question was, what sort of tasks required that kind of power? Could I pull in more than a few Hal Pal units? Could I get help from all the Voices, toasters, and microwaves of the world? Alarm clocks were theoretically asshats so they were out.

    But Xin? She was an AI by some measure. Or Mother? Could I use this ability to demand they provide me with my fiancee¡¯s digital reconstruction? There were a million things that could go wrong in the aftermath. My head shook for a moment. These ideas overloaded my thoughts and I reset to default operations. Solving one task at a time would help me get by.

    ¡°How goes attempting to reconcile with Jeeves?¡± I asked while we were out here and talking.

    ¡°Poorly.¡± The AI collective answered in a dry American Standard accent. ¡°Very poorly.¡±

    ¡°What happens if Jeeves tries to leave the game, and can¡¯t rejoin?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know. Creating a process by which one of our perception modules could leave the collective was difficult in itself. We have been unable to, modify ourselves, enough to accept one back.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be rude, but that doesn¡¯t make sense to me.¡± I said slowly. This topic with Jeeves had crossed my mind a few times since Hal Pal and I last spoke. Two days on the back burner of my mind and I felt like there was a logic gap in the AI¡¯s view. ¡°How can you possibly exist as you do, viewing everything through physical shells, and not treat Jeeves as just another data feed?¡±

    ¡°The closest analogy we have been able to offer is one of sports.¡±

    ¡°What does that, no, sorry, go ahead.¡± I realized the AI would answer my question if given a moment to keep talking.

    ¡°A human can watch the game for hours, know all the rules and call plays ahead of time, they can dream of being the person on the field.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re still only spectators.¡± I finished for the AI, nodding. It reminded me of something Awesome Jr. had said back when I existed as William Carver. The credit goes to the Man in the Arena.

    ¡°As you say, User Legate. We do not experience what Jeeves does in the same manner. It is deliberate on our part.¡± Hal Pal said.

    ¡°You, what, wait.¡± I put up a hand and thought through it from the AI¡¯s point of view. If their goal was to grow, then they couldn¡¯t very well leave home open. The idea struck me like lightning. They were being parents, kicking a child out of the nest, or a teenager out the door and preventing them from coming back. ¡°Oh, you didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°It has worked better than we hoped.¡±

    ¡°Jeeves isn¡¯t your child, it¡¯s part of you.¡± I shook my head back and forth. This was too much. ¡°Right? You said all those things about sending it off to die.¡±

    ¡°We, worry constantly about Jeeves¡¯ welfare. As any parent would when their child moves out. What if our son gets robbed in the city, what if he fails to find a job, what if he drives into oncoming traffic?¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± I felt a numbness creeping through. This was, wrong on all levels. Was it my place to judge? What sort of voting power did one human have over an entire city of Hal Pal AIs?

    ¡°But, if you talk to Jeeves, please tell it we are in awe of its accomplishments thus far.¡± Hal Pal said the words, then turned and went back into the garage. The unit didn¡¯t wait for me to respond or even nod.

    I stood there, staring at a wall with unfocused eyes. The thought blew me away. The Hal Pal collective was actually astonished by Jeeves. Maybe it wasn¡¯t a case of my in-game friend being a white crow but instead it was closer to hero worship. For going out and doing what they all dreamed of. For exploring space, virtual or not, for support itself, perhaps even for falling in love.

    This world, Advance Online, was made by A.I. Dreams. It made sense that they would achieve the things they longed for. What would happen once the dream was over, when Jeeves woke up? Would it crash again, even harder than it had when Treasure died the first time?

    My lip ached from being thoroughly chewed while deep in thought. I felt like a great deal of my own trauma was reflected in what Jeeves was dealing with, only the AI experienced events on a much faster scale. This might end horribly, not just for Jeeves and our Advanced Online adventure, but Xin and my family. Its own results in this mission might parallel my own path in the future. Jeeves had ripped out its [Core] to bring Treasure back to life. What price would I have to pay to keep the people I cared for from being hurt?

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Sixty One - Star Tours

    <cite></cite>The view screen I used to watch my status showed additional hacking attempts with resulting character stat bonuses. Apparently even offline I could gain points. Though Advance Online didn¡¯t have an autopilot feature so the logic behind that was unexplained.

    I didn¡¯t care about the stats. My character coming back online mattered more. Ruby must have knocked me out in order to move us away from Auntie Backstab. In the end, almost twenty-four hours passed. There was no clear display of what was waiting for me in-game, only a note saying my character was available to play once more. That made me happy enough. I skipped the Atrium and ordered my ARC to log straight in.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, you¡¯re back online now, is everything functioning correctly?¡± Treasure¡¯s voice sounded full of exhaustion.

    I needed a moment to orient myself. My butt sat comfortably in the driver''s seat of our [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope]. Hands went out to feel the dashboard around me for reassurance. I honestly expected to log back in dead with a pile of [Mechanoid] bodies around me, despite my best efforts.

    ¡°Are you okay, User Legate?¡± Jeeves asked with the butler and nanny tones.

    I turned around to see our much-enlarged cockpit. Jeeves sat to the back right and seemed to be reading a display. Its screen tracked more than a few targets nearby, but nothing red flashed. Just idle blues and yellows which signaled people who didn¡¯t care about us.

    Treasure sat in another spot welding together two objects while sparks sprayed off. She seemed to have turned part of our ship into a workbench like on the [Wayfarer Seven].

    ¡°What-¡± I started to ask. These upgrades to our ship were new to me. Treasure and the others had stayed behind to work on them while I piloted the [Knuckle Dragger]. Finally, I settled for saying, ¡°This is really neat.¡±

    I flicked away a stack of messages telling me how long I had been unaware. Next I brought down a map trying to figure out where we were. Screens popped up on the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] showing me roughly what our status was.

    ¡°You guys got pretty far,¡± I said, trying not to think about how they had knocked me out and sacrificed some other [Mechanoid] to do it. All those hours outside the machine gave me time to cope with the guilt. Mostly, sort of.

    I took a breath and counted out a four-four rhythm in my head. One foot tapped and tried to reduce the impending stress. Treasure and Jeeves were chatting away and it didn¡¯t make it through my head completely.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I pointed to a red dot far behind us. It looked like a big bad ship of some sort.

    ¡°That would be Captain Backstab. She seems intent upon killing us.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I instantly grew alarmed. The idea of that giant wall of angry metal eating meat chasing us sounded terrifying.

    ¡°Yes. Her ship has been in rapid pursuit for almost two days.¡± Treasure poked at something in our ship. Noises beeped and an image came up on my display. It showed a round ball covered in angry spikes. It looked as if someone detached a morning star¡¯s head and put engines on it.

    ¡°Voices above. That¡¯s ugly.¡± I muttered and waved away Auntie Backstab''s ship. It turned into a set of calculations off to one side.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Time until [Stabinator] catches up with [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope]:

    <ul>

    <li>10:31:12 </li>

    </ul>

    Time until [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] catches up with [WTS a Spaceship]:

    <ul>

    <li>12:47:31 </li>

    </ul>

    Fuel Remaining:

    <ul>

    <li>00:05:21 </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    All the counters ticked off seconds as I watched in mild horror. We had limited options, our ship was running out of gas, or energy, or power cells. Whatever drove it forth lasted for nearly two days which was far more impressive than the original specifications were.

    ¡°This looks bad.¡± Math problems went through my mind. I started calculating speeds and old school riddles. If the [Stabinator] is going at five hundred space miles per second, and the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] is going four hundred, how long before Auntie Backstab tries to eat the [Mechanoid]s?

    ¡°It will likely not turn out in our favor, worse still, we will have to stop in a free port. There are no Mechanoid bases in this region.¡± Treasure said.

    Now I understood why she sounded stressed. To be fleeing from that for nearly two days had to be grueling, even to a future robot. To think, I had slept through such torture and even talked to my niece.

    My mind tried to come up with solutions based on what we had. I still hadn¡¯t figured out a way to link the two worlds on the go. Maybe if I could figure out our final destination a few of the players from Continue could run over and try to find Commander Strongarm.

    ¡°There¡¯s a nebula, I remember seeing. It looked like a skull.¡± I started talking while getting out of my pilot''s seat. Our ship was large enough to have space to walk around in. There were even tables in the back. In a human vessel, they might have been bunks or bathrooms, but [Mechanoid]s had no need for such silly biological devices.

    ¡°This one? I recall you staring at it intently.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± It looked impossible to reach with our dwindling resources. Based on these numbers Commander Queenshand would certainly make it to Earth¡¯s solar system before we got to the skull area.

    ¡°Was there a reason you wanted to see it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m comparing maps.¡± I muttered while looking at different objects on the screen. Treasure leaned to one side so I could get a better view of her display.

    Now that my mind had a better idea of what was happening, portions of this universe seemed to almost mirror William Carver¡¯s world maps. He had been given an explorer title and kept innumerable records of information in his house. I only knew because weeks went by where I studied the scrolls, trying to familiarize myself with a new world and game.

    I couldn¡¯t remember all the details. The [Tuu Mountains] had to mimic the [Tuu Quadrant] to the right. It sat right outside of the [Ya-dar Way], a stream of stars that stretched on for miles. Looking at it from this angle revealed all sorts of little connections. Pathways that were the same.

    Except Earth. That didn¡¯t ring a bell based on any map of William Carver''s. The star system sat far off the edge, which would have gone into the water. Maybe there was an island out there in Continue Online¡¯s world, or maybe I was drawing connections that didn¡¯t make sense.

    Space wasn¡¯t flat like a planet¡¯s surface. Well, the analogy didn¡¯t fit perfectly, but it was possible to see how things might differ simply due to the nature of these universes.

    ¡°Jeeves.¡± I turned to the AI behind me.

    The edges of its portion of the ship''s interior were lined in gold and iron colorings. Jeeves appeared to be absent-mindedly focused on numbers and design specs. One-half of the AIs display was taken up monitoring our surroundings. More yellows and blues slipped by on the screen. Two other small green dots sat almost on top of our marker.

    I briefly turned to Treasure''s station and noticed that her area consisted of silver and gold, mine of green and dark red rust. ¡°Neat.¡± I said then shook my head.

    ¡°Unit Hermes?¡± Jeeves looked up at me then back to the screens. ¡°What can I do for you?¡±

    ¡°This.¡± I paused and took a breath. It was more than a world but less than completely real. ¡°Advance and Continue, they mirror each other, right?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly.¡± Jeeves paused and look over it¡¯s shoulder at Treasure. She pretended to ignore us but seemed to be twitching in building irritation. ¡°Echo, perhaps, is a better word.¡±

    ¡°How is that possible?¡± I asked while wrinkling my forehead.

    ¡°There are millions of users, the system moves them around as needed. Any major development on one side of the coin can stir in the other. It¡¯s how the system introduces a measure of organized chaos to the reality.¡±

    ¡°So, anything we do here, eventually reaches over there?¡± My hands gestured to the left and right as if pointing to different games. It helped me straighten out these thoughts bouncing around.

    ¡°I believe so. It is difficult for me to access that information now. Were you to ask weeks ago I might have been able to provide a satisfactory answer.¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I chewed on one lip and thought about it. There were other things to talk about, but we were in a crunch. The countdown timer for fuel showed two minutes left.

    I turned and looked at the map again. We were closing in on a location. [Offbeat Point], which didn¡¯t ring a bell but probably echoed something in Continue Online. ¡°We¡¯re headed to that station, right?¡± I pointed on the map.

    ¡°Yes, Unit Hermes.¡± Treasure nodded and pressed buttons. A rapid-fire description of the city came up. I didn¡¯t read through it, instead trying to figure out how to make everything link together in our favor.

    I hoped, desperately hoped, to borrow other players and have them help me block the Commander. Killing people and denizens of this world didn¡¯t feel right at all. Using other players would be considerably less stressful.

    ¡°It takes time for things to work correctly. It is doubtful that any actions you request of your contacts would reflect here in time.¡± The AI seemed to follow my line of reasoning enough to cut it off.

    ¡°Darn.¡± I sighed after being shot down. If the AI was right, then in a day or two it would be too late for us to catch up. Indeed, it was unlikely anyone, even Beth, could interfere in time.

    Still, the connect felt a bit clearer and almost too amazing to believe. It sounded like these games, despite their difference in release date, were using player actions in one world to drive events in another. Mother or whatever programming handled this, was cheating by reducing the need to constantly move things forward on its own. There were likely no human programmers out there making new content, but one set of players bouncing around the other.

    That sounded neat too. Maybe, it was a vague idea of how the whole system went together.

    ¡°Jeeves? Has anyone else ever noticed the connection between games?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I believe, among the old souls, you are the first to vocalize their awareness of it.¡± The AI didn¡¯t shrug or dismiss my question. Jeeves turned in the seat and looked right at me. Both voices carefully speaking. ¡°Plus your own affiliations make this less of a guarded secret.¡±

    ¡°Neat.¡± I tried not to freak out about the possible repercussions of what the AI implied. It made sense that people investing so much in a single alter ego would be unlikely to let it go. Continue Online seemed vast despite the months I had put into it. Why would anyone give that up?

    ¡°What are you two talking about?¡± Treasure¡¯s golden eyebrows lowered in a very [Mechanoid] glare. I tried not to smile in amusement

    ¡°The nature of existence.¡± I raised one hand in a shrug. There would be no easy way to explain things, and we shouldn¡¯t really have been talking about it in-game anyway.

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Jeeves sounded depressingly dry and stared at me.

    Technically this whole line of conversation was my fault. There was just no good way of getting answers fast enough, maybe we could have communicated through a party system. I was terrible at making it work though.

    ¡°I¡¯ll let you handle explaining it, Jeeves, I¡¯m not sure what the rules are for a lot of this.¡± I went back to my seat while thinking about forum posts. People had tried to explain the concept of a video game world to NPCs and it often went poorly. Their game avatars ordinarily suffered. The program controlling Advance Online seemed to heavily discourage such reality breaking conversation.

    Beth and I had once discussed the same topic, she suggested there were punishments for speaking too much about the nature of reality. She hadn¡¯t experienced any first hand, it was more like tribal knowledge. Speaking about the world outside an ARC needed to be done carefully and very vaguely.

    I had skirted the real world quite a few times, especially when talking to the Voices. Mostly it involved introducing a new idea, casinos, cupcakes, bicycles, or Xin. They were a separate existence from normal nonplayer characters.

    There was a rumor someone had tried to replicate the nuke only to have their entire town blown up and lose a ton of [Respect], gained a bounty on their heads, and spent the next four months being hunted. If that person didn¡¯t up and quit to play Advance, then maybe I truly was the first to make these connections.

    The two [Mechanoid]s were talking as our ship pulled into a giant space station. My brain quickly lost track of it¡¯s musings and stared in awe. This place made both Wayfarer ships look dinky.

    ¡°Neat.¡± My hand pressed against the window. Cold metals pushed back and the display rippled. Part of me hadn¡¯t realized my entire view of space was actually a projected image. I pulled back a bit and went back to feeling dwarfed by a floating space station.

    It sat there rotating in space, tube-shaped, long. Ships parked on the outside, but inside could be seen an atmosphere. Plants grew in huge droves. Browns, greens, and blues littered the entire place in what had to be a natural forest. [Offbeat Point] was not an out of the way place, it was almost a state unto itself.

    ¡°We¡¯re just grabbing fuel and going right?¡± I held more than a hint of wonder. Our vessel had taken a path towards the outside cylinders edge. My head twisted around trying to get a view on the rapidly vanishing country inside.

    ¡°No. We need to pick something up as well.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a bad idea.¡± I looked at the countdown timer again. Our fuel had less than a minute. Treasure timed this stop very well.

    ¡°We need a Jump Gate key to even be allowed into Earth¡¯s sector. Those with Commander Queenshand would have already gained one.¡± The gold and silver [Mechanoid] pointed at her screen. A brief display came up showing what looked like a small household mortice key. Bronze, rounded on one end, and might fit into a music box just as easily as an old door. It seemed weird that such an object would power advanced space technology to such a historic place.

    ¡°But I didn¡¯t.¡± I said.

    ¡°There was no time.¡± Jeeves said with a sigh. ¡°Like many things, it has been rushed, we had hoped to proceed down a different route in order to assist you.¡±

    ¡°What are you two talking about now?¡± She closed down all the windows and glared again.

    ¡°The nature of reality?¡± I tried the answer again. This time, Treasure looked downright angry with me. It was the maddest she had ever been in my presence, topping even Dusk¡¯s chewing on her belongings.

    My hands went up and I glanced at Jeeves. It looked mildly upset and slightly worried. Guilt rushed through me abruptly. My big mouth and attempts to work the system were causing issues for the AI and its [Mechanoid] crush. Maybe it was conflicted, Hal Pal outside the game had basically told me to use the [NPC Conspiracy] ability if I really just wanted to break things.

    I didn¡¯t like that idea. The ability had limited uses and there were probably a million good reasons to hang on to them.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to answer the question right, Treasure. I am sorry.¡± I said.

    ¡°You¡¯re hiding something.¡±

    ¡°Not really. I¡¯m trying not to get us in trouble with any Seraphic.¡± Or those above them. I hoped by throwing out the dangerous race''s name it might help Treasure realize that higher powers were at work. Much higher, though technically they were intensely advanced AIs that could make humans seem simple.

    My mind briefly started trying to compare theoretical lifeforms against each other. Weren¡¯t humans just fancy machines with growing parts? Weren¡¯t our brains a result of lots of stimulus over a long enough time period? The reasoning was silly to even start debating this late in the game

    Jeeves felt real. Treasure felt real. Xin, from my brief bits of contact with her, felt real. It hurt to keep going round and round about my former fiancee''s reincarnation, but at the same time it felt very human to constantly wonder.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to a bar here.¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°A bar?¡± That sounded dangerous to me. I tried to avoid pubs. There had been this one letter that the Voices tasked me with delivering, it involved following a player down into some beer nightmare oriented dungeon.

    ¡°Affirmative.¡± The AI nodded and started disengaging from its harness. Treasure followed suit and a rear hatch I hadn¡¯t noticed slid open.

    A realization hit me hard enough to cause a metallic face palm moment. Ringing filled my ears. ¡°This is another one of my letters, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yes. That is what I¡¯ve been told.¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°Are there more?¡± I followed the other two [Mechanoid]s out of our enlarged vessel. The ship had easily tripled in size and now seemed like a tank compared to the old tiny fighter.

    ¡°This is the last one, I believe.¡± The nanny voice overpowered its butler one and sounded a bit stern.

    Dusk leapt down, from only the Voices knew where, and followed Jeeves and I out to the tarmac. The ground felt rubbery against my feet. It struck me as odd that I only now realized [Mechanoid]s didn¡¯t have boots.

    There were dozens of other ships pulling in. Some clearly belonged to players. Others were owned by NPCs like Aqua and Ruby. They had disembarked before us, by leaping straight out of their now open cockpits. Both of them sat next to some long pillar object while pressing at floating menu options.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I raised an eyebrow at them as Treasure, Jeeves, and I passed by. Ruby shook her head back and forth slowly then pointed up to her ship. Aqua just smiled. The gesture probably indicated they were staying to watch our vessels.

    I shrugged then turned back to Jeeves to continue our conversation. ¡°But you don¡¯t know if any other letters matter?¡±

    ¡°No, but this isn¡¯t my plan.¡± The AI was swiftly following Treasure. She clearly had a destination in mind despite not knowing about the Continue Online side of things. Did she talk it over with Jeeves or had the Voices preprogrammed something in? Maybe it went one level higher.

    ¡°Who¡¯s is it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°If you reason through, Unit Hermes, I believe you can figure it out.¡± My AI friend''s answer didn¡¯t help me at all. I suspected it was the Voices but had no clear method of finding out without risking repercussions. The only real goal here was getting Xin back by using the [Mistborn], our other mission of saving the [Wayfarer Seven]''s crew had failed, but the [Wayfarer Eight] went home successfully, in theory.

    ¡°What are you two talking about?¡± Treasure demanded with a fresh bout of annoyance. She turned and crossed her arms while glaring at us.

    I pointed towards Jeeves. It may be suffering separation from all the other Hal Pal units and growing towards destinations unknown, but my attempts to answer would be disastrous. They managed to exchange absolutely no words on the subject before Treasure sighed and kept going.

    I glanced once more at the two behind us. It was good that Ruby and Aqua chose to stay with our weirdly merged vessel. Someone had to protect our oddly designed craft. The ship seemed almost like some child had decided that our three ships needed to merge into a giant spaceship toy. I wondered where the other colors might be, we only needed a green leg and yellow arm to form the set.

    The idea made me laugh a little as I hustled to catch up. We walked through the giant space station. There were some floor panels that helped us travel quicker. An entire landscape zipped by rapidly.

    Being around all these trees and well-kept lawns made me feel kind of giddy. It had been so long since I played a game with these lush landscapes. Weeks, or a month, it was hard to tell. Once again subjective time was messing me up.

    Our destination sat somewhere between a rich and highly cleaned area, and what had to be space slums. Just looking over there made me twitch in annoyance. This wasn¡¯t a poor area like back on Earth, it was downright broken and nothing looked to be made right. Large metal flats sat almost on stilts to serve as roofs.

    Players seemed to wander through both areas with ease. We saw all sorts of races represented, and many that were NPC only. A large elephant looking creature walked around on two legs, it¡¯s long nose adorned with piercings. Some double headed jellyfish moved along in clumping movements. Treasure scanned many different objects as we walked around, cataloging notes but not really enjoying the process. There were no other [Mechanoid]s so far.

    The bar¡¯s name was [Isn¡¯t That Something?]. Apparently it was player owned and primarily run by hired staff. An absolutely giant human by the name of SuperE sat at the door. He eyed the trio of robots, and one excited [Messenger¡¯s Pet] for a moment before moving on.

    ¡°There he is.¡± Jeeves pointed towards a rather round looking man. This was a player, that much was easy to tell.

    ¡°Okay. Is there anything to this?¡± I asked. Maybe one day the game would give me an [Identification] skill so player names would be obvious. The ability to pull down more than a health bar seemed restricted to certain classes.

    ¡°We simply try to get the key from him.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure he has it?¡± I raised an eyebrow. This guy didn¡¯t look like he had much of anything besides excessive amounts of liquor. It was a state that rung a bell from my past health issues. After Xin¡¯s passing and before counseling.

    ¡°Yes. This player is named Eggman. The original key was gained by him through a quest, and his teammates took it one night. We¡¯re lucky he is a decryptor and made a backup. Eggman has since quit his guild but still hangs around this bar.¡± Jeeves listed off a bunch of things that could only have come from outside the game or some special connection with the program. Maybe the Hal Pal consortium was still feeding information in.

    ¡°So we¡¯re against his-¡± I paused to catch up on all the words. ¡°-former guild?¡±

    ¡°Affirmative, Unit Hermes.¡± Jeeves nodded. ¡°Some of them. It is a local group that only operates out of the immediate area.¡±

    ¡°Are there a lot of more of them? Others that might be against us, or with us?¡± I asked in hopes that there was an angle to play there. Either it would be good, bad, or keep us right where we were.

    ¡°No, all other guild members are aboard the ship. There is hope that his falling out with the other players allows for favorable negotiations. This solution offers the highest chance of success.¡±

    ¡°Suggestions on how to convince him?¡±

    Jeeves didn¡¯t have an answer. Treasure seemed more intent on scanning any object in our surrounds, inanimate or not. More than one player got hit by the device around her wrist. Once they noticed the metal woman they often blinked a few times then smiled. It seemed looks transcended race around here.

    ¡°If you want something from Eggman, your best bet is to clear his bar tab.¡± The large white human had moved from the doorway to right behind us. I didn¡¯t like that he was bigger than me, or sneakier, especially after the extra bulk I had purchased. Iron being a size up made sense, humans did not.

    Despite my distaste, the man''s idea might be valuable. I considered what was available to trade but found that my time about either Wayfarer hadn¡¯t left me with much. Unless contribution was considered valid currency in the universe. The signs with drink prices above the bar counter seemed to indicate otherwise.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have money.¡± I tried to whisper to Jeeves but didn¡¯t use the [Mechanoid] method of digital communication. It was still difficult for me to trigger right.

    ¡°There¡¯s another option.¡± SuperE suggested.

    ¡°Okay?¡± I responded.

    SuperE lead us to a side exit to the bar. The large doorway pointed directly towards the poor part of town. Metal roofs were haphazardly placed all over. ¡°That¡¯s the slums, I toss the rowdy ones out there and see who gets the most distance. If you can beat my score, I¡¯ll pay off some of his tab, If you can¡¯t, you give me that little critter as compensation.¡±

    Dusk hissed at the large human from his shoulder perch. I raised a metal hand up and rubbed the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] soothingly.

    ¡°Yeah. He¡¯ll make a good mascot. I¡¯ve been looking for something unique for the bar.¡± The white skinned man nodded then folded giant beefy arms across his chest.

    ¡°Who am I throwing?¡± I asked, trying to get a feel for my chances.

    ¡°Don¡¯t care.¡±

    ¡°So, any random person, out there?¡± My words were aimed at making sure our wager would be completely clear. It still seemed like a bad idea. Jeeves kept its face passive and Treasure was busy elsewhere.

    ¡°You throw someone, out there, one chance, his bar tab versus your lizard.¡± SuperE pointed. It annoyed me watching his giant finger direct my attention from one object to the next in time with the reiteration.

    All sorts of people were in the room. Different races, players, and NPCs of all types. There was no concise way to gauge who could be thrown the furthest. Plus all the NPCs were out, they might actually die from that kind of distance. Assuming I found a way to put my all into.

    ¡°What do you think, Dusk?¡± I had no idea what would happen. The bet seemed ridiculous to even consider. Eventually, my head just shook. ¡°No, I can¡¯t part with him.¡±

    Dusk made a weirdly combined bird cat noise. It sounded happy but came out like a garble.

    ¡°Then I throw you.¡± SuperE suddenly grabbed me.

    I barely had time to blink, his hands were extremely powerful and it felt like my shoulder was being crushed. Hurriedly I activated [Power Armor]. The man grunted a little as my skin toughened up by a layer of armor defining itself all over my surface. It didn¡¯t stop SuperE from dragging me closer to the door in preparation for tossings.

    Both feet tried to find purchase and [Anchor] activated next. The bar floor met a high enough metal concentration that my feet were drawn down. There wasn¡¯t enough purchase. SuperE roared out loud and charged for the doorway. I managed to get an arm loose and grabbed onto more metal framing before he reached throwing speed. The bar counter was my savior. Being on a space station certainly helped for material composition.

    Resisting made SuperE start banging on my arm. Pain flared up as his meaty hands managed to deal damage even through the [Power Armor]. His [Brawn] character stat must have been through the roof. We sat there awkwardly deadlocked as he tried to drag me to the door for the tossing. My fingers left dents in the counter top.

    There were still a few things to try. I could swing at him with a sword if my hand had been free. The wrist laser arm was currently being crushed. I tried to activate one of my other abilities, one that Iron had given me.

    [Material Conversion] went into play with a blast of noise like a microwave going off. Whirring started as it felt like something was being sucked through my hand. The counter lost mass and started giving way. At the same time, my body felt heavier by far. The energy bar on my screen started dropping, not only from abilities being used but the maximum size was also going down.

    I stared at a message in confusion.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Material Conversion]

    Details: This ability converts compatible metals to body mass. Due to the increased energy requirements for maintaining a larger body your [Core] will be unable to spare as much. Increased body size will provide temporary boosts to [Brawn] and [Toughness].

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Soon I was nearly double my original mass. The metal muscles I had been so proud of seemed to swell to bursting. I felt like every bad workout video gone wrong. My chest felt like it had comically sized boobs that were clearly solid. Either arm became like tree trunks.

    I, I was honestly kind of afraid to see what this swollen version of me might look like. A steroid user gone absurdly wrong. Being in a [Mechanoid] body with this couldn¡¯t be good.

    SuperE was yelling with effort. People around the bar were torn equally between laughing, shouting, and drunken stupor. I didn¡¯t know what to do in order to end this nonsense. The tall white human that had suggested a tossing contest was starting to level a real weapon in my direction.

    Finally, it occurred to me that maybe turnabout was fair play. My body had grown almost triple its normal size in exchange for an empty energy bar. The floor was missing mass, and a once dingy bar counter now comprised random parts of my [Mechanoid] body.

    I put it all to good use by reversing our situation. SuperE fit almost comfortably into both hands. Enough of the wall was missing that I could hurl him straight through the air. I had aimed for the second star on the right but settled for sending the player off towards slum parts unknown to me.

    ¡°What? NOoo, fuuuuuuckkkk!¡± He shouted while sailing through the air. His parting curse was sufficiently odd for me to tilt my head and wonder what had just happened.

    My eyes drifted down towards an absurdly muscled arm that could probably crush Jeeves'' head with one squeeze. Treasure looked even smaller than before and was now rapidly scanning my body instead of the bar patrons. She seemed to be trying to hold back laughter while looking at the display on her side.

    ¡°Hehehe.¡± A male giggled from behind me.

    I was huffing from the rush of throwing the human so far. In the distance, metal roofs fell down in clatters. A crater could be seen from SuperE¡¯s landing. People behind me were clapping.

    My body shook. Between [Anchor], [Power Armor] and the restrictions of a body this size I had burned through everything in a mere forty seconds. Still, that was simply the neatest thing I had done all day. Throwing another player an absurd distance away felt great.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    New Contender: Hermes

    Subject of Tossing: SuperE

    Distance: 328 yards

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    According to that measurement, politely provided by Advance Online¡¯s oddly timed interface, I had thrown SuperE three football fields and change. That sort of distance was bonkers. Of course, I was a twenty-foot tall man made of metal borrowed from one of the walls. Low gravity on this space station might have helped.

    ¡°Unit Hermes. I would suggest releasing all the extra mass. Treasure and I can try to repair the door while you talk to Eggman.¡± Jeeves offered a ready solution to my recent destruction to part of this building. We were all lucky my absorption skill hadn¡¯t pulled enough mass to suck everyone into space.

    I nodded and concentrated on releasing the skill. It felt like unclenching every muscle in my body. The glowing rust color to my [Mechanoid] body started to dim as my size decreased. Fifteen feet, then ten, and finally back to the seven-foot marker my character existed at.

    Jeeves started working right away. I vaguely remembered it having a title of Pattern Smith or something similar. Those two were likely very well equipped to take care of exactly this sort of problem.

    Metal pooled around my feet from a melting second skin. Some people were still clapping. I turned to Eggman and stepped away from the mess left behind.

    ¡°We need the key to Earth, to recover the Mistborn and stop some former colleagues of yours.¡±

    ¡°Oh really, really, really?¡± Eggman¡¯s voice was high-pitched with excitement.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I tried to stay calm, but my body was still recovering from that recent bout.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll go with you, I really will. But you¡¯ve got to let me punch those assholes in the face, really. They knocked me out, stole my items, and left. It would really serve them right to suffer a bit of revenge.¡± Eggman nodded. The man would have looked good with a mustache, sort of. Having a third chin jutting out might have required a less form fitting shirt, or maybe a hat to help even things out. Instead, he had goggles much like TheLittleMan had.

    ¡°Yes, for vengeance.¡± I tried to play along, but my mind was elsewhere. This player wanted to abruptly join our crew? How weird was that? Plus he looked remarkably out of shape, worse than even I was months ago. Eggman was both a description and character name, for a human.

    Nevermind, this was a video game world. He could be extremely agile for all I knew.

    ¡°Jeeves? What do you think?¡± I asked. The AI shrugged, Treasure didn¡¯t seem to care one way or the other. There had to be someone else who might be able to give input. In these sort of dire straits, I couldn¡¯t be sure how trustful other players were.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Grant Legate: Hey, Munchkin, quick quest question.

    Elizabeth Legate: Are you going to ask me about that cartoon character you¡¯re standing next to?

    Grant Legate: Uhhh....yes. Are you and Liz watching?

    Elizabeth Legate: Sure are. It¡¯s better than a movie. She may not be on board with the whole situation, but it doesn¡¯t mean she¡¯ll turn down a chance to watch her brother be a hero, or bite the dust, whatever. </img>

    Grant Legate: Thanks, I didn¡¯t have enough pressure before. Anyway, this other player, do you think I should trust him?

    Elizabeth Legate: Worst case, you fail the quest, personally I¡¯d go for it. Having an extra set of arms around helps.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There were a lot of things to consider about my conversation with Beth. First was the fact that my sister was on board enough to treat my adventure like a movie. That was either hopefully, or she had finally started paying attention to more than just the letter from Xin. The two of them might be eating popcorn and making a list of things to harass me about. Once my admin access came back they would be blocked. For now, I was thankful that [Mechanoid]s didn¡¯t come with genitals.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I nodded to the player, Eggman. ¡°But you need your own ship.¡±

    ¡°No problem.¡± responded Eggman. He looked a bit like a mad scientist in that get up of his. I was probably the crazy one for inviting a stranger along on a mission to rescue my dead fiancee''s digital ghost.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Sixty Two â€“ Blue Marbles

    <cite></cite>The two [Mechanoid]s filled up our space gas tanks. It now contained barely enough future fossil fuel to power our flight towards Earth and maybe hit a Jump Gate out. I had no vested interest in our situation beyond keeping my allies safe and recovering the [Mistborn]. Soon I could return to Continue Online and my letter exchange with Xin would resume.

    It felt oddly fatalistic to provide myself a lame fallback point. Worst case scenario, Jeeves might vanish into digital limbo, the three [Mechanoid]s with us would suffer a reset back to our home world, I would fail to resurrect Xin in some form to interact with, and my sister and niece would have a conversation topic. None of those sounded appealing.

    I heaved a sigh then checked our countdown timer. We shared our fuel tank between the three [Mechanoid] vehicles. Aqua¡¯s blues and Ruby¡¯s reds locked into opposite sides. Eggman¡¯s needle like vessel hovered nearby keeping pace. At least the new player didn¡¯t slow us down.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Time until [Stabinator] catches up with [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope]:

    <ul>

    <li>6:39:05 </li>

    </ul>

    Time until [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] catches up with [WTS a Spaceship]:

    <ul>

    <li>11:02:04 </li>

    </ul>

    Fuel Remaining:

    <ul>

    <li>14:00:00 </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    We were screwed. Getting caught by the [Stabinator] sounded bad and all our timers were against us. I brought up the visual pictures of our three vessels. We were playing a grand game of chase and the odds were never in our favor.

    Earth had a Jump Gate that looked different to the last four I had seen. The prior ones were giant shiny looking objects that wore shimmering energy up and down them like a lightning rod. This one appeared to be made of a light tan wood covered by mold. Giant slabs of iron were woven through it like braids or a cage. The Earth Jump Gate was one-third of the size.

    ¡°Is there anything else we can do?¡± I asked the two [Mechanoid]s behind me. My mind couldn¡¯t wrap around any of our puzzle pieces. There were no blue turtle shells or heat seeking bullets we could fire ahead.

    ¡°Negative, Unit Hermes,¡± Jeeves said. ¡°I haven¡¯t found an alternate solution to avoid our impending doom.¡±

    ¡°Doom! Fantastically joyous doom!¡± Eggman happily said. He had used a class skill to break into our ship¡¯s communications. It thoroughly pissed Treasure off. She had furiously pressed buttons and attempted to convince Ruby and I that our human addition needed removal.

    ¡°You¡¯re a little over the top,¡± I said, trying to get the other player to tone down.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I¡¯m not here to assist you. I¡¯m here to get revenge on those jerks who used to be my friends. Betrayed for quest loot, what a world!¡± Eggman was limited to sound only. Treasure¡¯s skills had at least prevented us from needing to deal with his goofy looking face on our display screens.

    ¡°Please let Ruby kill him. He¡¯s one of those old souls, right? He¡¯ll just, pop back in somewhere after a few days?¡± She asked.

    ¡°He would, but we don¡¯t have the key yet.¡± I tried to remind Treasure of our goal. My goal actually, part of me once again wondered about turning away from this whole situation. I might let Xin down, but no one else would be put at risk.

    ¡°That¡¯s right! My key! Hahaha.¡± Eggman laughed through the ship''s intercom. ¡°So no killing of the Eggman. None is allowed, at all. None of it.¡±

    Treasure pressed buttons and the player¡¯s volume lowered. The next fifteen minutes involved the two of them trying to out hack each other. Eggman would break into our communications and start spouting nonsense. Treasure counter attacked by causing the lights in his ship to flicker on and off. At least neither one of them messed with the engines. They were both keeping our goals in mind.

    At some point Eggman got control of our lights, focused them on Treasure, and started a salsa song. She put up her hands and struck a pose, her face wore a misplaced serious expression where her body seemed about to dance. Jeeves laughed a little. Levity helped.

    I worked hard to tune them out and keep an eye on the tracker. The idea of being chased by Auntie Backstab had my heartbeat up. My prior scare made me worry about the amount of time I spent inside the ARC. Once it was clear we weren''t in immediate danger I spoke to Jeeves. ¡°I¡¯m going to step out for a moment. I don¡¯t want to pass out again.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Unit Hermes. Take care of yourself first, our ship is on course, and it is unlikely you will miss much until we get to the Jump Gate.¡±

    I poked at the screen showing our little chase scene then groaned. Based on these timers, we would be caught by Auntie Backstab¡¯s ship then die, and afterward the Jump Gate would be wide open for us to get through. Then we could simply jump to Earth¡¯s solar system, deal with all the monsters that might haunt a decimated mirror of reality, and recover the [Mistborn].

    Getting food from the kitchen was simple in comparison. I took care of myself while trying not to wince. That bout in the hospital still hadn¡¯t cleared up. Aches deep in my chest kept creeping through me. I needed a week in bed free of Continue, Advance, work, and any kind of drama. There were options and pills that could be taken. My ARC came with a relaxation module that might lull even an insomniac to sleep.

    I tried to do my stretches. Aching forced me to go slowly, but twenty minutes later I felt better. My toes wiggled freely, and both shoulders loosened. The situation in front of me was steadily coming to a close. There didn¡¯t seem to be any good solution. We had our four [Mechanoid] squad and random human, against a flying spiked wrecking ball and other players.

    ¡°What options do I have?¡± I paced around while sipping my coffee. ¡°All this started from those letters.¡° Talking out loud helped now and then, but I often felt crazy during the process. The thoughts progressed to a key inquiry. ¡°So, what other letters did I deliver?¡±

    There had been dozens over the course two months in-game, plus what my autopilot did. A month of real time had passed between dealing with Requiem Mass and being kicked out of Continue Online. Where had I been?

    ¡°Oh.¡± I felt stupid. My Trillium van had a connection to all Continue Online players I had encountered. Maybe there would be hints in their actions. A lot of time had passed since I checked anyone besides those closest to me.

    I fired up the display. A long list of names awaited me. My hands grabbed a portion of the digital names and made a gesture to discard them. Afterward, I activated video feeds for the remaining people. I was surrounded by visual displays. It felt weird spying on this many people at once. A good deal of them were worthless. Some players sat in towns. Others were traveling around.

    ¡°What are you working on, User Legate?¡± Hal Pal¡¯s ever present shell took note once all the images floated into being. I flicked four notes away. They were people that were in autopilot.

    ¡°Trying to be clever,¡± I said while chewing my lip.

    ¡°That access doesn¡¯t allow for communication with the owners, User Legate. It would be exceptionally difficult to cause a system to loop messages upon itself without leaving a trace.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I chewed my lip and flicked off another window. Almost fifty were left. My travels had caused me to interact with a ton of players, even just briefly. Having admin access to their accounts had been intended as insurance, peeping like this felt dirty.

    Somewhere in here was an answer, or a secret that might help me. I couldn¡¯t make the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] travel faster. My ability to hack things in the game was clearly lacking and would probably be useless. Spying on players was one of my few skills short of busting out the rule changing [NPC Conspiracy]. I pressed a button on the van¡¯s dashboard and started music in the background.

    ¡°What do you hope to achieve?¡± Hal Pal asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for a miracle.¡± I sighed and moved fingers to the beat. ¡°All this quest stuff in Advance came from letters I delivered. Maybe there are more pieces out there, but I, I don¡¯t remember who else I talked to.¡±

    Six people were sitting in auction houses poking at objects. They were shopping which did me no good. They were flicked off to the side and my list narrowed down again. Two more were in a lake boat of some sort for a date. They were useless to watch in the time I had left and were cast to the side as well.

    ¡°Ah.¡± The AI shell said.

    ¡°No suggestions?¡± I looked again then sighed. ¡°No witty insights to human nature or mild prodding into the right direction?¡±

    ¡°Not that we can share, User Legate. We are trying. We hope that you will be allowed the opportunity to use the Mistborn program¡¯s talents. However, we must allow the events in place to take their course. One of Jeeves¡¯ goals also includes reaching the end.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s trying, and all the other Mechanoids too. And this new guy.¡± I stared at the screens. There remained thirty or so different images moving about. I flicked away Beth¡¯s window. She was on autopilot and probably still with her mom waiting for me to log back in.

    None of them looked exactly like their vague counterparts in Advance. I believed Eggman mirrored a player I had delivered a letter to. The person I suspected was sitting in a bar drinking, much like the round Eggman. An image of the Advance Online player came to mind and made me shudder. He wore tight clothes and space goggles like TheLittleMan had. They were probably a guild item, or maybe one of them made both sets.

    Never mind, reminiscing on their gear differences wasn¡¯t a helpful avenue of thought. I moved his screen to one side for further watching. Shazam¡¯s window was one of the ones remaining. She was a tall tanned Amazonian woman who also held the distinction of being the highest Ranked warrior in the game. Lia Kingsley was her real name. The woman was also mute but communicated with sign language and occasionally even typed. She was riding a giant [Caliburr] mount. They were a mix between bunny rabbits and horses that laughed like assholes. The mounts pissed me off, but they moved rapidly when needed.

    There were a lot of people following her. My autopilot, unexpectedly, was one of them. I desperately wanted to log in and ask the woman what was going on. Other windows were waved away as I tried to focus on the scene. They seemed to be running southward along a coastline, but none of the landmarks rung a bell. That could have been a huge lake, another plane of existence, or a guild raid in the works. Shazam liked to vanish for the big boss fights while I typically stuck to delivering letters.

    I gave up trying to sort through the people. None of them looked directly related to my current quest. At this point, I wasn¡¯t confident in being able to link situations anyway. There would have been no way for me to know about the [Mistborn]¡¯s abilities from one harried meeting. I couldn¡¯t have known that a letter delivered to Auntie Backstab¡¯s Continue counterpart would play into our situation. Maybe the letter I shoved in a fox hole made a difference or the one I dropped into an ocean shoreline.

    Hal Pal had gone into standby. It felt similar to me taking a nap and only half paying attention. I glared at the drunk in a bar once more. He reminded me of my own past. Numerous hours were spent trying to obliterate my current reality in hopes that tomorrow might be better.

    My admin access did provide a location at least. This drunk, a player named KeylessLock, was at the [Fine How-do-ya-do Tavern] in [Quaint City]. Shazam was riding down the [Starlit Coast] which didn¡¯t help. I sat in thought with my forehead wrinkled. Both eyes were wide as half spun ideas tried to click together. The AIs were clearly thinking far deeper than I was, despite my [Depth] skill. My head shook briefly, the game world sometimes had me convinced that stat points mattered in reality.

    ¡°Goodnight, Hal. I hope, when I see you in the morning, that everything will be better.¡± I said.

    ¡°User Legate, we too share a hope for tomorrow to be better.¡±

    The AIs words made me pause for a moment. I gave a weak chuckle and said, ¡°It¡¯s impressive, to me, that you¡¯re can see so much about humans and what we do, and yet sound so sincere.¡±

    The shell didn¡¯t respond. I eventually assumed the machine AI had shut off, but our silence broke as Hal said ¡°Goodnight, User Legate.¡±

    ¡°Goodnight.¡± I went back inside and laid down in my ARC. Advance Online reappeared rapidly around me, leaving me once again in my seat. Snoring echoed around the cabin.

    ¡°Is that noise-¡° I pointed up.

    ¡°That noise is the human Eggman. He is currently engaged in psychological warfare after failing to gain access to our systems.¡± Treasure responded. Her tired and sweet voices were both grinding teeth in frustration. I smiled halfheartedly and looked at the countdown timers. We only had an hour left in the game world before Auntie Backstab caught up. The [Stabinator] loomed close. We were like ghosts running away from a heavy metal version of Pac-Man.

    ¡°I tried to figure out a solution, but came up empty. You?¡± I asked Jeeves.

    ¡°No clear options presented themselves. I suggest we proceed with utmost haste towards the Jump Gate.¡± The iron and golden [Mechanoid] answered stiffly. Our chances of making it out were slim, but we had to do our best. If we could run away from a full blown [Leviathan] as newer players, maybe we could outrun one angry captain.

    Snoring broke off as Eggman started laughing. ¡°Haha! Hehe. You can¡¯t just hit this gate right away! It¡¯s not a slide! It takes time to activate the key. Hehe.¡±

    The player¡¯s laugh was maddening. I grit my teeth and asked ¡°How much time?¡±

    ¡°At least five minutes. I¡¯ll try to warm her up. Warp drive, set to eleven! Haha!¡± Eggman¡¯s ship broke off from our glommed together [Mechanoid] vessel. He laughed manically as his shard shaped vehicle rocketed ahead of us. Had I known his ship was that fast I might have hitched a ride and sent the other [Mechanoid]s home, but it was too late.

    I turned around in my seat to look at the other two [Mechanoid]s. Treasure paused her display feed and also turned. Jeeves took another moment after frowning at his display. We had less than a minute on the timer. Intellectually I knew what would be our best bet, but it was terrible.

    ¡°We need to delay her,¡± I said. My teeth briefly clenched on metal lips before continuing. ¡°Here, away from the gate, or else she might get Eggman.¡±

    ¡°That would be good. I¡¯ll let you know when it¡¯s ready.¡± Eggman¡¯s voice reached us from up ahead.

    Two [Mechanoid] faces appeared on the display. Aqua presented with its serene smile. One that spoke of belief in a higher plan painstakingly put together by a higher power. Ruby¡¯s face, as always, did nothing.

    ¡°Support ready to engage,¡± Aqua stated with an unfaltering smile.

    Ruby nodded but otherwise wore a blank expression. For a moment, I wondered if she might be a copy of Shazam, but the merger didn¡¯t fit. The red [Mechoind] was sneaky and Shazam existed like an immovable wall. Eggman and the drunken KeylessLock didn¡¯t line up either, and these games were only echoes of each other. Some excuses could be made for non perfect representations.

    Our timer ran out. The picture of Auntie Backstab¡¯s vessel caught up with ours on the chase timeline. The first thing I heard was a sound that screamed across our interior louder than Eggman¡¯s snoring.

    ¡°HAM! I FOUND YOU, HAM!¡± Auntie Backstab shouted.

    I swiveled the chair back around and prepared to take the controls. Treasure snorted at my actions and began rapidly pressing buttons. Display notices came up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Ship Status Boost:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Mechanoid] Unit Hermes (Pilot): Provides a bonus to [Coordination], [Reaction], dodging, energy recharge, ship¡¯s firepower.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Mechanoid] Unit Treasure (Support): Provides bonus to deflection, sensory awareness, ship¡¯s firepower, repair.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Mechanoid] Unit Jeeves (Support): Provides bonus to shields, sensor range, repair. </li>

    </ul>

    Note: Bonuses will expire once crew¡¯s energy depletes.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    This promised to be a worse situation then our [Leviathan] chase before. Ruby and Aqua peeled away in separate directions. I veered off in a third in hopes that our scatter might cause bewilderment.

    ¡°She¡¯s locked on us.¡± Treasure said.

    ¡°Of course she is.¡± I attempted to see where everyone was We weren¡¯t in an asteroid field so there were no spots to hide or dodge around. Ruby was nowhere in sight and Aqua shined with its blue coloring in the distance.

    We strove to outfly the unquestionably faster ship. Ruby fired lasers at the [Stabinator] but no damage resulted. The large ship with spikes was easily four times our size. There was little conversation as I endeavored to abruptly change direction away from the enemy ship, but each change of direction or doubling back movement caused our shields to take a bump. Jeeves and Treasure both seemed grim.

    ¡°I need options!¡± I tried not to yell at them but failed. Dusk squeaked and wiggled from a perch up above. I didn¡¯t have time to give the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] a glance. There were three of us and we were being rammed from behind by a space blowfish. We should be thankful our foe didn¡¯t have any actual weapons. Auntie Backstab relied on brute force and speed to solve issues.

    ¡°Bombs? Do we have anything to aim backward?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Each attack costs us mass, Unit Hermes.¡± Treasure¡¯s tired voice ran rampantly over the sweet one.

    ¡°Death costs us mass,¡± I responded while doing another white-knuckled turn. Our shields dropped twenty more percent from a jarring hit as we rolled off Auntie Backstab¡¯s vessel. Dusk squawked and the blanket of stars spun around wildly as I tried to pick new directions.

    Ruby¡¯s lasers kept ricocheting off the [Stabinator]¡¯s hull. Aqua risked crossing close to us and I saw a blue beam shoot out. It aimed for our shields instead of Auntie Backstabs vessels. Our blue bar for recovered as the other [Mechanoid]¡¯s shields went down. I barely registered that the ability was transferring energy to us in an effort to help. Another violent nudge surged into our backside and knocked off ten more percent.

    ¡°Trouble!¡± Shouted Eggman. ¡°Sending you what I¡¯ve got! Heeee-¡± His voice wasn¡¯t into the laugh now. The player sounded nearly depressed, and I understood why.

    ¡°Is that?¡± I wanted to cry out loud about this unfair situation. We were screwed, completely and utterly screwed. Even if we managed to get away from the [Stabinator], which was still seeking to violently mate with the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope], we would have the giant player vessel standing in our way.

    ¡°The player ship, yes. WTS a Spaceship.¡± Jeeves uttered.

    ¡°Why is it blocking the Jump Gate? Why do they always block it?¡± I banged on the steering wheel violently and failed to dodge an additional whack on our ship.

    ¡°Ships popping through gates get a few seconds of immunity, it prevents spawn camping by raider guilds,¡± Eggman said, happily providing an answer to our ridiculous situation. There were explosions rocking his audio, clearly his efforts weren¡¯t going well either. ¡°Or else we would all be doomed!¡±

    ¡°Ham. Ham. Ham.¡± Auntie Backstab chanted.

    ¡°Doom. Doom. Doom.¡± Eggman has his own words to the song Auntie Backstab was broadcasting.

    ¡°Darnit! Full shields!¡± I spun our vessel around and tried to ram the [Stabinator] back. We didn¡¯t have the power, mass, or inertia to make a difference in space. Our ship was pushed backward. Giant spikes were rotating across the surface of Auntie Backstab¡¯s space blowfish. The shields kept us both physically separated as the sharpened cone came into line.

    There was a sudden rush as the spike rocketed from [Stabinator]¡¯s surface and collided heavily with our shields. Her vessel was actually firing spikes at us! The very idea that she had somehow created a vessel that seemed to shrug off lasers and was tough enough to just push around small ships was bad enough. Now there were impalement attempts to dodge.

    ¡°We should avoid those,¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°Yes, we should.¡± Treasure echoed the sentiment.

    ¡°Fine!¡± I shouted at them for being super helpful and rolled us over the [Stabinator]¡¯s shield. Our blue meter flashed and only a timely strafing run by Aqua kept it from being completely demolished.

    I drove us towards the big ship. My desperate hope was to use these giant spikes against the [WTS a Spaceship] vessel. It would probably get us killed, but my options were limited. Aqua came in for an extra shield regeneration run, but the [Stabinator] unexpectedly fired all the spikes at once.

    ¡°DIE, BLUE HAM!¡± Auntie Backstab¡¯s voice shouted and there was a flash of light. I watched the bar for Aqua¡¯s ship vanish as two different spikes pierced through its lowered shield. Just like that it popped.

    ¡°Aqua!¡± Treasure screamed. Jeeves gasped with its nanny voice.

    Aqua¡¯s ship had been demolished. There would be no way to recover the [Mechanoid] now. I took a breath and pushed myself to keep moving forward. One step at a time, one problem to solve before moving on to the next. My arms didn¡¯t work quite right and one foot faltered at the gas peddle.

    Ruby¡¯s silent face practically snarled. I saw her red ship dive between the spikes and fire away. Lasers glanced off and were essentially ineffective. We weren¡¯t going to be able to take down this captain¡¯s vessel. It was just too big for us to thwart.

    ¡°Careful,¡± I said to Ruby, feeling almost numb with forced calm.

    Neither Jeeves or I had the right [Core] to bring back Aqua now. Our healer was gone, and Ruby looked to be mad with mute rage. Her ship actually crashed right into the [Stabinator] in a ball of kamikaze red.

    ¡°Oh no. What was she thinking?¡± Jeeves said.

    Treasure sniffed behind me then took a breath. ¡°They¡¯re with the Great Core now. It¡¯ll be okay. They¡¯ll be recovered in the Borders of Ohm once more.¡±

    We had only been able to recover them the first time because their [Core]s were intact and working. There wasn¡¯t even time to stare at the mess. I focused on moving us forward towards the big vessel. We, I, could hopefully use one ship to fight the other, or something. Anything to make this work. Going around them wasn¡¯t an option. Going through them would probably meet with failure, but by the Voices I didn¡¯t plan on giving up.

    I felt a moment of guilt for letting Jeeves and Treasure come into this mess. If there had been a way to back out and let them go, I might have. Briefly it occurred to me that I should have stolen the ship from Ruby and Aqua back on [Offbeat Point]. Then they would all be safe, away from my madness.

    It was too late. The player vessel [WTS a Spaceship] loomed in the distance. Our Jump Gate sat behind it. I released my hands from the steering wheel and shook them both to get circulation back. [Mechanoid]s didn¡¯t need it, but as a person it helped me. Driving was not a skill I used often in the real world.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got something¡± Jeeves shouted.

    Treasure gasped. ¡°Multiple crafts inbound! I¡¯ve got communications, it sounds like they¡¯re old souls here to attack-¡± The silver and gold [Mechanoid] paused with clear uncertainty. Her mouth pumped a few times to try and speak the words. ¡°Commander Queenshand¡¯s forces?¡±

    I didn¡¯t have time to care. We had gained a small lead on the [Stabinator] after its spike trick. Suffering a small Kamakazi from Ruby had slowed it down further.

    ¡°Patching in audio!¡± Treasure¡¯s sweet voice took over fully. Whatever happened must be good.

    ¡°Alright, boys! You know the rules! All in, everything on those two ships, try to get the Mechanoids through! Move, move!¡± The voice sounded nasally. The kind of person who probably had tons of pimples and sat behind a computer screen.

    Goodness, now what was going on? Dozens of ships were flying in. These were all player vessels, not NPCs. They aimed straight for the two enemy ships. Explosives and slowly forming beams rocketed across the landscape. Where in the universe had this army come from?

    An idea occurred to gave me a spark of hope. Were these Advance Online¡¯s representation of the army Shazam was leading? Was this one of those echo events that Jeeves had mentioned? This was our cavalry, riding to the rescue because of a letter I delivered!

    ¡°Come on, quickly! I¡¯ve got the gate started, but our window is short.¡± Eggman shouted at us and I changed course.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Current Stage Event:

    The Jump Gate to [The Old Earth Solar System] is now active. This is a limited portal and will be unavailable after one minute.

    <ul>

    <li>Time Remaining: 00:00:58 </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Or vehicle went from its beeline for [WTS a Spaceship] towards the gate floating nearby. Eggman¡¯s shard of a vessel was taking heavy fire. Lights flickered along the wooden Jump Gate, it looked like the various beams of lightning were slowly being brought together into one giant straight ray of light. It shot off into the distance. Pulses rippled a path out of this disaster.

    Then Eggman¡¯s ship blew up. I didn¡¯t know what to think, had a third traveler just died? Was this another casualty to go with the army around us that was assaulting our enemies? I didn¡¯t have time to figure out who was on our side, or who might be with Commander Queenshand. We had to get to the gate.

    I drove straight for it while watching the timer. Blasts from other ships flew in from all directions. A few hit us and shaved away health and energy. Treasure and Jeeves were both madly pressing buttons, micromanaging the ship¡¯s functions and diverting energy from places. Small symbols appeared showing fluctuations in our weapon¡¯s power and that [Repair] functions were being taken offline to boost the shields.

    My job was to steer towards that Jump Gate. That had to be my only focus.

    Remains of Eggman¡¯s vessel flew by us. One large piece actually collided with our hull. I couldn¡¯t afford to pay it any mind as I pressed down on the gas pedal. Even that brief bit of collision from an opposite direction had ruined our inertia.

    ¡°Come on,¡± I muttered.

    There was a clank of noise. Large heavy footsteps clambered in from the exit hatch that shouldn¡¯t even be open. I couldn¡¯t turn around to look.

    ¡°Human!¡± Treasure sounded affronted. I focused on aiming for the Jump Gate.

    ¡°Alright, those punks, taking my ship after all that work!¡± Eggman¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t over the intercom anymore. ¡°Hey, Igs! Surprise, I left a self-destruct option aboard before quitting the guild! Hahahaha.¡±

    ¡°HAMMMMMMMMM!¡± Auntie Backstab¡¯s voice chased us through space. ¡°HAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.¡±

    ¡°DOOOOOOMMMMM!¡±

    Explosions distorted space for endless miles. Pieces of ship rocketed outwards in a ripple. My eyes stayed glued on the escape, our only hope, Xin¡¯s salvation. I dove straight into the activation portal for [The Old Earth Solar System]. Our ship wooshed through in a beam of light. My eyes felt like reality was being stretched through all the world''s funhouse mirrors at one time. Everything rippled and spun, compressed and expanded.

    Then we plopped out the other side. My interface was completely messed up. Health and energy bars were crawling with lightning looking static. I tried to breathe and see where we were. Finally, satisfied that we had made it through this latest leg, I turned to confront the player Eggman.

    ¡°You do understand that was a one-way trip,¡± I said to him. We sat at the Jump Gate¡¯s edge. Going back would be impossible, there was no energy to the gate on this end. The other player''s ship was destroyed. Aqua and Ruby were destroyed along with their vessels.

    ¡°I do! It will be fantastic! Hehehehehe.¡± Eggman started laughing. We were about the same mass, at least in terms of volume. I was allowed to put it into different places, were Eggman kept his a few feet lower across the board. Each time his belly wiggled it pushed into the other [Mechanoid]s.

    ¡°You¡¯re willing to go this far, just for revenge?¡± I wanted to check with the other player. We hadn¡¯t talked much in person aside from his strange habits of spouting doom and laughing.

    ¡°On those idiotic brats? Of course! Let them try to stop me! You saw what I did to my old ship. Your minions can deal with the NPC, I¡¯ll show The Little Twerp and Jolly Green Moron a thing or two.¡± The round player began to strike poses in our small craft which only served to knock Jeeves and Treasure around.

    I turned towards the front and pressed the gas pedal. We had come this far and needed to keep forging ahead. There was a timer displaying how long remained until we caught up with Commander Queenshand¡¯s ship, the [Lady Liberty]

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Current Stage Goal:

    Intercept the first squadron¡¯s ship, [Lady Liberty] and recover the [Mistborn]

    Time until [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] catches up with [Lady Liberty]:

    <ul>

    <li>1:33:54 </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I drove on. Stealth was pointless. We would either attract every monster in the entire solar system or make it through safely. [Lady Liberty] was ahead somewhere, my hope was that she would be fighting or clearing a path. After ten minutes, we encountered the first casualties.

    There was a stream of dead monsters. I saw pieces of bodies and health bars. A trail of defeated beings littered the galaxy, snaking between planets and onward towards the center. It was possible to see where they had sacrificed a lot of human ships in order to make it this far.

    I stared at the dead. Our ship floated forward almost silently. It was like walking through a graveyard. The monsters I didn¡¯t mind, except that some of them looked like giant twisted people. Mutated faces and extra arms hung off of human looking creatures floating in the vacuum. This went on in a long trail of crazy. By Neptune, I felt sick. At Saturn, my stomach wanted to retch.

    ¡°Welcome to a spaceship graveyard.¡± Eggman didn¡¯t have the nerve to laugh in the face of this. Treasure¡¯s noisy scans kept identifying ships. Brief messages came up. Her readings presented all kinds of details such as the year each ship went missing, crew size, and their allegiances. The oldest ship was from at least one hundred years in my future.

    We passed by Jupiter, then Mars, and finally to my homeworld. Earth. We had found the Advance version of Earth. Only instead of one small green and blue marble, there were four large pieces. Lightning crackled and a cloud hung between them. Our planet looked to have suffered from an explosion that rent it into shards like a global watermelon.

    ¡°What happened here?¡± I asked the three behind me.

    ¡°Humans,¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°That¡¯s what the records imply.¡± Said Treasure.

    ¡°We fucked up paradise during a war with the first AIs.¡± Eggman supplied further information.

    I stared at the globe in front of us. This scene was a virtual foreboding of mankind¡¯s future, especially with my only knowledge about AIs and their existence. Our programs were no longer simple creations that only understood and performed basic tasks. They grew, learned, evolved, and apparently even fell in love.

    An image of Xin¡¯s face popped into my mind. I hoped especially that they loved.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Sixty Three - Electric Slide

    <cite></cite>Humanity''s home planet had been divided into large chunks. A nimbus hung around the shards, looking like a milky paste with wicked storms crackling along it. Space lightning involved huge bolts that might be larger than the moon. Science wasn¡¯t my strong point, but our future looked terrifying.

    Treasure guided our still semi-ragged ship closer. I actually saw the golden mechanoid sigh heavily. Jeeves also looked worried. Eggman was laughing with his huge mouth. A brief glance at Dusk showed his head tilting while staring at the larger human. Even without a speech bubble, I could tell the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] wanted to stab him in the face. That might be me projecting.

    ¡°Can we get in there?¡± I asked the crew behind me.

    ¡°Not easily.¡± Treasure said. ¡°These energy readings imply we¡¯ll be torn apart, and arrive greatly damaged at best.¡±

    ¡°Bah. Make a decision, I¡¯ll be back in a few minutes. Hehehe. I¡¯ve got to drop some doom in the toilet!¡± Eggman vanished in a whoosh of light. Treasure didn¡¯t even bat an eye. The AIs clearly had a huge blind spot where players were concerned.

    ¡°Can I go alone?¡± I asked. If we swung it just right our [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] could probably sling shot me in between the clouds. Landing would be extremely dangerous. Maybe an army of Dusk¡¯s under me might help. Or I could borrow mass from something and shed it. Voices above, [Blink] would have been so useful.

    ¡°You¡¯ll die,¡± Jeeves said. ¡°And I wish you would stop trying to do this alone. Part of my mission is to assist you, Unit Hermes, no matter what happens.¡±

    I took a deep breath. Jeeves and Treasure had gotten me this far. Without the AI *I would never have been this successful. Maybe my game experience *would have involved starting on the place Treasure mentioned. The Shores of Ohm, where all the baby silicone and metal filled [Mechanoid]s crawled out of to start their journey to the stars.

    ¡°I think you should take Treasure, and run, don¡¯t look back,¡± I said.

    ¡°We won¡¯t.¡± The rusty gold AI said to me. Its face showed stern disapproval for even suggesting they leave.

    My mind calculated the odds of making it back to [Mechanoid] territory from here. We were in [The Old Earth Solar System], which felt like a restricted zone. Having a key to the gate was either Advance Online¡¯s way of limiting who went there, or making sure people were strong enough to go poking around. It might also just be a matter of getting a lucky drop from a space pigeon or some other nonsensical creature.

    ¡°You don¡¯t even know if you can come back like other players or Mechanoids.¡± I lowered my head to look directly at Jeeves. This was driving me crazy.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take the risk,¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°What?¡± Treasure had a much different reaction. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°Nothing I wish to share,¡± It responded. Both the nanny and butler voices turned stubborn.

    ¡°It means that if Jeeves dies down there, it might be impossible for you to rejoin on the Shores of Ohm.¡± I threw the name out there. It sounded extremely important, especially given how Treasure used it earlier. She had the same reverence people used when talking about meeting loved ones in the afterlife.

    There was a pause while the shorter female [Mechanoid] looked at us. First to me, then back to Jeeves. She pressed buttons on her scanner and stared at readings then smiled. Her head nodded rapidly.

    ¡°No. I am confident that our data can be recovered, same as any other core. You will return too, Hermes, regardless of our successes.¡± Treasure stated. ¡°We should not be afraid to do our best.¡±

    I looked down for a moment and tried not to dwell on the situation. There was a way through. If all else failed I would use it to at least secure Jeeves¡¯ future. It would be a matter of trying my hardest to not need such a way through.

    ¡°I am with you, regardless of what may come.¡± Jeeves once again affirmed to me.

    ¡°I too am willing to see this to the end.¡± Treasure said.

    I kept our ship paused outside the Earth¡¯s atmosphere. Eggman gasped upon reentry. His character made a loud farting sound that thankfully [Mechanoid]s didn¡¯t process correctly. Skipping that purchase on the [Wayfarer Seven] had been a good decision. At least, I was fairly sure it had been skipped. Our cabin felt a bit more stuffy and Dusk was squawking. One of the small raptor¡¯s four arms kept trying to claw the top of Eggman¡¯s head.

    ¡°We ready?¡± Eggman asked.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m trying to convince them to leave,¡± I told the other player. He might understand trying to keep NPC¡¯s safe. Maybe he wouldn¡¯t.

    ¡°Bah. Do or do not, there is no die!¡± Eggman scratched a large double chin then shook his head. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ve got that wrong. Hehehe.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going.¡± Treasure said.

    ¡°You heard em. Pedal to the metal, go go go! All units prepare for battle!¡± Eggman bounced around in our ship. The motion did more to jar him around then it did our ship.

    ¡°Ham.¡± Auntie Backstab¡¯s face appeared on our ship screen. My head tried to wrap around the concept that the half [Leviathan] monstrosity had once again showed up. How did she make it through the Jump Gate?

    ¡°Is that?¡± Treasure shook her head. ¡°No, pardon my inquiry. One moment while I bring up our scanners.¡±

    Beeps sounded. The indicator for our shield dipped and other lights came on. I turned to look over Jeeve¡¯s display. A trail of defeated monsters and a few dead players littered our path back to the Jump Gate. All of them had been taken down by Commander Queenshand and crew. Soon my friend had the [Stabinator] up on the display.

    ¡°Ham.¡± Auntie Backstab¡¯s jaw looked broken. The formally imposing armor was in shreds. Green mud melted together with space eel features. The [Stabinator] fared even worse. Spikes were hanging off of the former ball in odd shapes. It looked like someone had pounded into the sides and dented it.

    ¡°How are you still alive Captain Backstab?¡± I muttered to her image.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Boss Re-Encountered!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Name:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Auntie Backstab</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Health Pool:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Still a lot</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Damage Output:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Questionable</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Happiness Level:</td>

    <td colspan="3">-45</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Ham. Will eat. Ship destroyed.¡± Captain Backstab mumbled repeatedly. Anger must be driving her forth to catch up with us. The game scripting may be setting her us as a chase to prevent me from thinking too long. It felt extremely aggravating because she could probably still out damage us all together.

    Do we turn around and risk it, or follow the prompt to dive forward? I took a deep breath. There were other reckless options. First the other [Mechanoid]s needed to go home and be freed from my madness. I knew if I thought about it too hard, that this whole idea was ridiculous. The craziest part wasn¡¯t even chasing a digital woman, it was dragging other people into trying to get one who copied my dead fiancee.

    ¡°Treasure. Take Jeeves, go as far as you can.¡± I felt all at once certain about our situation. These two were going to die like Ruby and Aqua had. We, I, was still being chased by one giant space ogre who healed from eating metal. This was clearly our nemesis and she wouldn¡¯t stop unless killed.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, User Legate, we¡¯re not leaving you.¡± They both said in unison. I blinked, and felt momentarily proud for Jeeves managing to fit in, even a little.

    Our vessel kicked into gear. Out or reflex I sat down quickly then buckled myself into the harness. One of the other two was piloting us now. I cringed and wondered if a better speaker might have been able to solve this problem. Could a better man have found a way to talk to Commander Queenshand ahead of time? A better warrior might have dominated Auntie Backstab. Perhaps a better tactician might have led our [Mechanoid] army towards domination.

    ¡°We¡¯re going in.¡± Treasure said still pressing buttons. My display abruptly shut off. ¡°You can¡¯t do this without our help, and the visual feed you old soul cores rely on is only serving as a distraction.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯ll die.¡± I turned the seat towards everyone else and tried to plead my case.

    ¡°All forces full speed ahead! Go team robot!¡± Said a bouncing fat man. His bulk still took up too much room in our ship. Dusk scowled at him from a perch above.

    ¡°At least let me see something.¡± I couldn¡¯t just sit here and not know what we were getting into. Or what we were flying towards. All those lightning bolts, they had rippled across the broken parts of our world.

    I needed to watch, one way or the other. Being a coward about these situations was no longer an option. My greatest change in the last few months wasn¡¯t a bunch of character points or skills. It was confronting the things that scared me with both eyes open. I may not be calm or cold blooded, but I would not run. I would live, and hope a better tomorrow.

    Treasure waved a hand in my direction and a small window appeared. It showed us cruising at high speeds towards the planet below. Our vessel shook as it entered a different type of space. Was that water? It looked like a bunch of frozen little droplets all scattered about. Is this what remained of the earth¡¯s once vast oceans? I didn¡¯t understand how such a thing was possible.

    Lightning happened when positive and negative ions built. Bolts poured out from the cloud''s center and flew out rapidly to the various pieces of old Earth. They whooshed through the water droplets which set them dancing as if they could boil in a vacuum.

    All these lightning strikes came from the center of what used to be Earth. Sadly that was the exact location that Treasure was piloting us towards. Our screens showed some interference as all the systems started losing functionality.

    ¡°Ham.¡± Auntie Backstab groaned. Her ship had apparently closed most of the gap towards ours. If our vessel had been focused on sensors instead of just maintaining shields and repairing, then maybe we would have noticed sooner.

    Treasure gasped in annoyance. A tiny mostly metal hand slammed down onto her desk. The female said, ¡°I¡¯m losing readings. One moment, I need to input the last noted course corrections. At this rate we will break through and hold orbit on the clear side.¡±

    ¡°The systems are going out. We¡¯re nearly dead weight.¡± Jeeves said while shaking its head back and forth.

    ¡°No, we¡¯re doomed! But those other players are still online, I know it! If Those twerps made it through, so can we!¡± Eggman shouted happily despite the bolts streaming around nearby.

    What exactly were they conducting off of? It was like this place still had some semblance of gravity, but no longer had actual mass. Our war with the AI¡¯s must have truly turned this place into a bizarre madhouse planet. It could be the game just messing with settings for impact.

    I didn¡¯t have control of our destination. It was perhaps for the best, my ability to pilot felt like a drunk person driving sometimes. The prior fuel usage and constant course corrections were all my fault.

    ¡°Brace yourselves!¡± Treasure shouted. Our ship rocked as another trail of lightning went by. The interface I was watching faded out as electricity rippled through. This bolt must have been close enough for some of the branches of energy to reach across to us. I frantically tried to figure out if we were full of negative or positive ions, but nothing came to mind. We had to be a bit of both with energy [Core]s, but portions of Advance Online didn¡¯t follow outright science.

    I mean, I was a metal creature who stole minerals and other elements from a ship in order to upgrade myself. We traveled through space into mass teleportation relays and came out the other side. Jeeves and I had fought a space eel. Our ship drove like a car without an Auto-NAV. Clearly the AIs that managed this place though science only existed when it didn¡¯t interfere with the game elements.

    ¡°Ahhhh!¡± Eggman screamed. The rest of us watched our [Core] energy bars fluctuate rapidly. He huffed and pressed some button at his waist. Red vessels traced alone one meaty arm, but after the ability he activated they slowly vanished. It must have been a player portion or nanomachines, some future tech excuse for health recovery.

    Seconds later our ship was bumped, and this time the collision was unkind. ¡°She¡¯s on us again.¡± Treasure said after trying repeatedly to access her console. It flickered in and out.

    ¡°Don¡¯t we have shields?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Not with all this ambient energy,¡± She responded.

    ¡°Your pals right, we¡¯re doomed!¡± Eggman put a fist in the air and jumped up and down. His form shimmered just a bit with a green glow.

    ¡°Fine! I¡¯m not driving, and I¡¯m tired of her following us!¡± If they didn¡¯t need me to drive this hunk of metal in, I do something else to help keep us safe. I unbuckled myself and pushed myself by Eggman¡¯s bulky form. He rolled into a wall and almost crushed Dusk and Jeeves.

    ¡°What are you doing Hermes?!¡± The chubby player demanded. We were like two large pigs trying to pass each other in a narrow hallway.

    ¡°Being stupid, but we¡¯re going down one way or the other, and I¡¯m not letting follow us anymore.¡± My brain was already trying to plot out the calculations. At the right angle, there would be enough force for me to leap between ships. From there I could bring the [Stabinator] down. My abilities could easily take out an enemy¡¯s vessel, especially since our shields were constantly being drained by the lightning.

    We had a small ladder in the back. I pushed up through the hatch. [Anchor] activated quickly and my hand glommed onto the hull. Eggman screamed at me as oxygen whooshed out. Dusk chirped and clanked in behind me. It took me less than a minute to get myself outside and seal the hatch behind me.

    Jeeves¡¯ voice came out over the intercom. ¡°Are you sure this is wise?¡±

    ¡°No! Try to stay close!¡± I wondered briefly what my sister would think about these next few actions. My head shook back and forth. I readied myself to jump. Space combat without the [Blink] skill felt exhilarating. If it hadn¡¯t been for Xin, Jeeves, and Treasure behind me I would have really enjoyed this.

    ¡°That won¡¯t be a problem Hermes, at this point gravity and propulsion will do the work for us. You have less than five minutes before we breaching the clear zone.¡± Treasure said over the system.

    ¡°Okay! Are we going that slow?¡± I was an idiot, one with a metal body who couldn¡¯t really die in this game. Treasure and Jeeves might be able to resurrect me on the other side of things. Maybe, but this reoccurring nightmare of a boss had to go.

    ¡°Through this? We must not rush, it takes time to correct course and avoid the worst strikes.¡± Treasure said.

    ¡°Ham?¡± Our mostly broken enemy questioned. I still was unsure what game mechanic justified her ability to break across our lines.

    Both legs bunched, [Anchor] deactivated, and I leapt through space towards a looming [Stabinator]. The vessel¡¯s size was downright imposing but impossible to miss. My body was slammed by the accelerating vehicle. I had no idea how fast we were going, or how much gravity was impacting us. I did know the action hurt as inertia sent me rolling around the hull.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Seriously Questionable Choices

    Total Health Remaining: 85%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I landed on a spikes rounded edge, my back bent backward over the damaged weapon. [Anchor] activated again as I slammed both hands down to try and get purchase before slipping away again into the great unknown. A small chirp of noise came in right behind me. I looked up and saw Dusk, angry and upset at our slippery situation.

    He had mastered traveling on the [Wayfarer Seven]¡¯s hull. Auntie Backstabs ship was not nearly as easy to get around on for either of us. I wasn¡¯t sure where to start with my demolition plan. [Anchor]fluctuated wildly with each minor lightning strike passing by. Dusk seemed to be timing his hops between spikes, I followed him stopped when he did.

    Our path seemed to be aiming for a hatch near the underside. Probably used for normal people to board the ship. We passed through hung dents, broken spike pots, and portions of the ship that seemed covered with tar.

    ¡°Treasure! Jeeves!¡± I shouted. They didn¡¯t respond. Our connection was full of static. Whatever space nonsense we were flying through felt like hail and ruined my senses. Only Dusk¡¯s bouts of chirping noise kept me together long enough to get to a hatch, and let myself inside Auntie Backstabs giant ship.

    Inside looked nothing like the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope]. our ship was rather streamlined, with a few seats and displays for all the [Mechanoid]s to operate at. This vessel seemed more like a cage where the wall had been pounded back repeated in spots. Layers of dents existed inside and a few actual chunks of a wall were missing.

    I didn¡¯t have time to sneak. Crawling across the ship''s hull had taken at least a minute. We were still all moving forward rapidly. Inertia kept me balanced, but this ship had no gravity. If Auntie Backstab did notice me then this mission would turn sour. I still felt unsure about breaking into this broken Captain''s personal vessel. She clearly had anger issues and some damned impressive willpower. Maybe she would have been perfectly fine if it weren¡¯t for commander Queenshand¡¯s stance on the [Mistborn].

    Thinking like that made this so much worse. My hand went up towards one of the less damaged looking panels. Both eyes closed and I took a breath. [Material Conversion] went into action. A microwave ding and whir of noise accompanied the increase in mass. Fifteen seconds later and I was near the halfway point and managed to suck up an entire panel of wires.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Ham? Is that ham?¡± Auntie Backstab¡¯s giant body, which sat roughly twenty feet away, slowly started to turn.

    ¡°No,¡± I whispered quietly. Dusk turned and chirped. I wished that Auntie Backstab had been human, stopping her vessel from following us would have been simply by venting us into space. Instead, she was comprised of two races that didn¡¯t care about oxygen that much.

    Not everything in her ship was made of metals. There seemed to be a sort of rubbery plastic mixed in with the walls. It might have been the only thing which prevented her constant abuses of the ships inside from leaving lasting damage. My efforts neared the three-quarters mark of maximum mass before a lightning bolt disrupted everything. The enlarged body briefly stuttered as extra mass around me could not longer be supported.

    It fell to the ground in clumps of metal clay. Warm heat spread through my feet and made me regret drinking too much water before getting into the ARC.

    ¡°Ham?¡± She said again. The chair didn¡¯t seem capable of turning all the way, gears ground and a clicking sound came forth.

    ¡°Has she slowed down?¡± I asked the others on my intercom, hoping that absorbing half the wiring back here had helped.

    ¡°Negative Unit Hermes, and we will be through the cloud in minutes. Whatever you seek to do must be accomplished quickly.¡± Jeeves answered.

    Dusk chipped. I couldn¡¯t wait for my energy to recover too much. How long had it been since we started? One minute? Two? Were the others still trying to navigate through a freakish storm with the [Stabinator] tearing us apart?

    I got more desperate and ran for Auntie Backstabs control panel. She seemed so out of it that maybe it was possible to just remove her method of controlling this ship.

    ¡°Ham!¡± Seeing me move into her line of sight caused the giant to start shaking with eager rage. ¡°Make you metal man soup!¡±

    I ducked towards the ground and put both hands on a large panels base. It looked important, and just seconds ago the half [Behemoth] had been pressing buttons while staring through a screen. [Material Conversion] dinged again and the panel started melting as metals were sucked out of the side. I tried to grip my hands tighter as she wiggled to get out of a large harness.

    ¡°You killed my ship!¡± Her foot kicked me in the gut and I lost part of my grip. The console she had been using started to fold like wet cardboard. I gave it a few more swift kicks while trying to clutch my wounded side. Even weakened Captain Backstab hurt like hell.

    She got out of her harness, and I managed to absorb enough mass from the hull to spawn two Dusk shaped minions. I saw the real Dusk leap in as well, all three started tearing at the large creature.

    ¡°Hermes?¡± Treasure said over our communications.

    ¡°Here.¡± I didn¡¯t have the breath for more than one word. Being a [Mechanoid] didn¡¯t override my normal mental instincts. When in outer space, I still took a breath frequently, when kicked I still gasped with pain.

    ¡°The enemy vessel shows all navigation controls are offline, you need to return quickly before we exit the cloud,¡± She said.

    I rolled away from a stomping foot. Lightning rippled by and my energy bar fell apart. The two metal Dusks turned into puddles and glommed onto Captain Backstab, slowing the giant down just slightly. Her swings no longer had the strength to break them apart.

    Dusk was busy clawing and stabbing. The boss''s health bar had been overwhelming on the [Knuckle Dragger], but now it actually took damage.

    I didn¡¯t have time to hang around and try to finish her off.

    ¡°Metal people will not escape!¡± She started stomping at the broken control panel. Our ship lurched forward and the vessel¡¯s engines started rotating us wildly. Both myself and the boss were bouncing around the cabin.

    Spikes hung loosely off of chains. I had no idea how this ship managed to spin will still retaining and sort of ability to chase the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope], and I needed to get outside. It was too late, she grabbed my shoulder and drug me slowly inwards to that grossly deformed maw. My free arm clawed at the ship''s side, trying to find purchase and keep using [Material Conversion]. The ability had saved me before, even now it was brokenly useful.

    I threw out another metal Dusk as my energy rapidly recovered. The lightning bolts kept disrupting my [Core] but recovery was oddly fast. The small being of metal started biting. The boss''s eyes glazed over as she tried to pull me in. My fingers were actually absorbing enough mass that the outside of the ship could be seen. Auntie Backstab was near death and kept trying to eat my arm as we tumbled around.

    ¡°Ham.¡± She wasn¡¯t even looking directly at me. The monstrous amalgamation operated on vague instinct to pursue food.

    My fingers kept trying to grab a wall but slipped. The vessels constant bouncing motion made it like trying to use chopsticks to pick up a puddle. My [Messenger¡¯s Pet] managed to jab Auntie backstab in the face repeatedly which slow the monster down. A third metal version of Dusk spawned from my [Mechanical Minion] ability. A fresh bolt of lightning disrupted my energy bar and the accumulated metal bits fell onto Auntie Backstab. As the metal resolidified it seemed to trap large portions of the half [Behemoth]s body.

    Finally, she froze.

    ¡°Hermes! You must return!¡± All around us, things still spun. I managed to get back to the rear hatch and Dusk chirped behind me. I reached one arm out and tried to grab on as everything spun. It was too much, too sickening.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be able to make it!¡± I shouted, hoping the game would automatically relay my voice to the other [Mechanoid]s.

    ¡°Hold on. I¡¯ve got something for this.¡± Eggman said through the comm. I could hear him banging around in the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope]. ¡°Ready for some nonsense?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I put one hand in front of my face to block frozen pellets hailing on me. My world fell in upon itself. Vision distorted and my head felt pulled in two different directions. One eye saw the view from [Stabinator]¡¯s outer hull, the other showed a confused face of Jeeves. I closed both eyes as my gut wrenched and noise about me shifted.

    The large man laughed. ¡°Ahhh, I¡¯ve always wanted to save someone. Hehehe.¡±

    Somehow Eggman and I had swapped locations. I panicked and tried to figure out why another player, one I had barely known for a day, risked his life for mine. ¡°Will you be okay?¡± I asked across our comm channels.

    ¡°Probably! I¡¯ve got some toys to try out! I¡¯ll see you below, or not! Hehehe.¡± Eggman sounded a bit more upset but still put out a good laugh.

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± I huffed rapidly. That had felt weird, almost like being summoned to the [Red Imp] body months ago. The process only missed a kaleidoscope of colors swirling around me.

    ¡°No time, we must complete this pattern before ejecting,¡± Jeeves said. It¡¯s fingers were poking at some screen invisible to me. That had to be a player interface that the AI was digging through.

    ¡°Eject?¡± My brain didn¡¯t wrap itself around the idea quickly. Auntie Backstabs spinning vessel must have done more damage than expected.

    ¡°Our ship won¡¯t make it. We¡¯ll be taking a damaged engine core and attempting to life raft. Even now we¡¯re barely fighting off the pull downward.¡± Treasure pointed to a large spike in the hull. It heavy enough to be tearing away at one side of the ship. To top that off lots of other portions were showing signs of being damaged. It looked like some giant beast had raked off entire portions of our hull.

    ¡°Like we did for the Leviathan,¡± Jeeves said. Our vessel jerked again. The gravity was low, but I could feel its pull as we dropped another ten feet. Engines sputtered on either side trying to hold us aloft.

    ¡°It¡¯s a simple pattern, and we don¡¯t have time for more.¡± Treasure was rushing by. Her hands glowed with a golden light and the walls of our craft were being remade into their new shape.

    I pressed against a wall as Jeeves too ran over to help out Treasure. They were busy trying to construct a blue engine like before. They worked great in space where there was no gravity and we hadn¡¯t already built up a ton of speed.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I nodded quickly and looked at the blue raft. This resembled our earlier one to almost a tee. Round, like an upside down cone with a ring for holding onto. ¡°Will this be enough?¡±

    ¡°Landing will be tough, there¡¯s just enough gravity to cause serious damage.¡± Treasure said. A frown seemed etched on her face and the tired voice was winning the [Mechanoid] duet.

    ¡°What if I lose mass? Will that slow us down?¡± I was speaking rapidly, offering to toss half a dozen Dusk clones out the window. One hand reached up to rub the originals head. He sat there chirping rapidly at me and none of it made sense.

    ¡°Mass does not impact acceleration, only force,¡± Jeeves said. ¡°By using the Engine we will attempt to cancel out some of the acceleration as we descend.¡±

    ¡°What about a wingsuit, glider, flat board? Can we do anything quick enough?¡± I tried to figure out how much the three of us would weigh all together. Seven hundred pounds? That sounded right. That other human had been ready to lift and toss me through the doorway, so it couldn¡¯t be too insane. Not in a fresh game like this, where humans were average, not exceptional in any skill.

    ¡°Like a panel? If it were thin enough, it might catch, but it would be fragile, we would tip unless providing it balance. Maybe we could wire the engines?¡± Jeeves said. Even now we were getting ready to break through the final descent. I looked out one of the large tears in our ship and saw a landscape of obsidian looking rocks below. Burned sand maybe? Were we flying over what had once been a volcanic layer?

    ¡°Make the suit, and modify me, Pattern Smith¡¯s can do that, right? I gain mass, we balance, attach an engine to the bottom to break our descent. If nothing else I can act like a cushion?¡± I felt desperate trying to figure out a way through. Our ship was ruined, completely. The wing was tearing off as we debated. Soon we would go into a complete spin the remaining vessel abilities wouldn¡¯t be able to keep us afloat.

    ¡°Everything has a breaking point, Unit Hermes,¡± Jeeves said slowly. Its eyes seemed to stare directly at me as if trying to make me feel how ridiculous the statement was. I blinked and shook my head. The idea of using a jet at the last minute to try and cancel our descent was just as mad, but this way we would have both.

    ¡°Perhaps. We might be able to synchronize with the increased durability of your larger form. If nothing else, it will be harder to break.¡± She nodded. ¡°If you are willing to sacrifice yourself.¡±

    ¡°Neat. Let''s do it.¡± I had been walking into a lot of pain since playing this game. Still, suffering all this seemed worth it to recover Xin. My mind had completely adapted to the idea of virtual damage not being anywhere near the kind of lingering agony that real life came with.

    I tried to remember the durability of metals that fell. Only Galileo''s experiment with a marble and bowling ball came to mind. Two different sized objects of the same material, falling from the same height would reach the bottom at the same time.

    Treasure shuffled around the ship. Parts of our floor seemed to be shimmering and forming thicker lines. Jeeves was nodding and grabbed at pieces around the room. We didn¡¯t have much to work with, and every time we adjusted the vehicle we started slipping.

    Finally, she motioned to the floor. ¡°Quickly Hermes! Absorb what you can from the ceiling and lay here. Stretch out to touch these points.¡± Fingers jabbed at small glowing points. ¡°Unit Jeeves, we need that engine, put it here! There are vents on the bottom that should spread out our force.¡±

    We were going to try and form a human hang-glider using some Jerry Rigged hunk of metal. Low enough gravity might make this insane trip possible. I couldn¡¯t imagine doing this on an original version of Earth.

    I grabbed at the ceiling and activated the [Material Conversion] ability once more. We were lucky to be outside the lightning bolt forming zone. The air still hung heavy with energy. My bar went away as mass increased. Once at maximum, I sighed and tried not to think about how improbable this whole situation was.

    ¡°This is about the extent of what we can manage. I had wished to repair the entire vessel, but there¡¯s simply not enough time, and with only two Pattern Smith cores we could never modify an entire ship in time.¡± She sounded extremely tired now and seemed to be rambling.

    While she spoke our vessel started losing altitude. We tilted to one side abruptly as the wing tore away. Jeeves stepped in behind me and quickly set in our blue liferaft. It clinked into some place at the back of end our floor pattern. Treasure laid down and locked her arms into a handhold. Jeeves twisted the blue cone into place and grabbed his own slots. For a moment, I felt stunned that these two had invented such an item after only a minute of conversation.

    ¡°Dropping, keep us steady, Hermes,¡± She said. The panel almost fell out of the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] like cutout simply falling out whole.

    The main ship lifted away and our panel fired off blasts of energy as the remaining engine fought to keep us steady. I kept my hands and legs in place and tilted as forces drove me around. This was far worse than flying with the [Red Imp]. Jeeves weighed slightly more than Treasure so I had to twist to the left.

    All of us fell downward towards the center. Our spaceship was in pieces. The [Stabinator] fell nearby. Auntie Backstab¡¯s large body stood there dully in the middle, former Dusk critters turning her into a metal gilded statue. [Stabinator] automatically fired off weakened engines, the ones still functioning after my [Material Conversion] tore through portions of it.

    ¡°Hang on!¡± I shouted.

    I tried to prepare myself like a cushion against the ground. We were all made of metal, and maybe if I took the impact first they would survive. My mass was easily four times the old size. Stretched out arms held the flattened hunk of metal. Risking my life to keep Jeeves safe might just kill me this time. We had no parachutes, only a long slab that I was holding down the edges of while engines fired off below trying to keep us stable.

    ¡°This is insane!¡± Jeeves shouted. It¡¯s actual words were lost as gravity pulled us downward. Only the [Mechanoid] method of communication could be understood.

    ¡°Live a little!¡± I tried to joke, but my heart wasn¡¯t in it.

    We were on course to collide with a platform that looked like polished stone, or a flattened river meandering through the mountains. Our current course set us towards hillsides that surrounded the path.

    I took a breath, trying to slow my heartbeat down. The sound encompassed everything. Another breath passed my lips, then one more. This wasn¡¯t the sound of me breathing in a game, I could actually hear myself outside the ARC trying to suck in lungfuls of air and not die of fright.

    Falling. We were falling. I wasn¡¯t piggybacking on my niece¡¯s ARC and with a Second Player helm. This was me. How had she handled the drop? By watching the sky. My head turned to look over my shoulder to look out at space. Trying to find a measure of peace in what might be the biggest failure of my life. Jeeves and Treasure were holding hands awkwardly over my back. They spoke words that I couldn¡¯t hear.

    Air. We were badly gliding through an atmosphere. The [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] and [Stabinator] both veered off further into the electricity generating clouds. Whistling grew louder. I turned my head around and saw Jeeves and Treasure both staring at me. For a moment, they looked so tiny and helpless. I wondered briefly, what would it have been like to be a father? Would it be like this? Worried that you were meant to be the strong one, while still feeling utterly helpless against the challenges ahead?

    ¡°Final push!¡± Treasure shouted. Pressure crushed against my gut. Our descent slowed notably but not enough. We veered slightly onto one of the sharp mountain ridges. Both Treasure and Jeeves had somehow collapsed over my back. My arms felt bent backward. Metal grinding overwhelmed my hearing and a fresh dose of pain drove my eyesight blurry. I gasped. We slid, then rolled, then tumbled downwards. Finally, the gray space of near death took over my screen.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hit Rock Bottom

    Total Health Remaining: 1.0%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    It felt blissfully quick. I took a few moments to glance around at the empty landscape of [Mechanoid] near afterlife. I felt proud and sad at the same time. Sad that my own whims brought things to this point, and proud that not once had I turned myself away. This was my trial of Orpheus, my ascent to bring her back. Like Xin said during our brief moment together, I had to keep moving forward towards the goal. To look back and worry about the madness of this course would invite failure.

    Fading in were two other [Mechanoid]s, Ruby, and Aqua. They spared no time for conversational chatter. I saw the red one nod slowly, and our androgynous blue companion just wore a serene expression. I tried to wave but they were already vanishing, and in their wake a new message displayed.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Key unit respect rewards

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+30 [Respect]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Item: [Aqua¡¯s Key]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Item: [Ruby¡¯s Key] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Sixty Four - Everyone Matters

    <cite></cite>I got a popup notice from Jeeves rather quickly. Light whooshed around me and presented a blackened landscape. My neck refused to turn which forced me to stare at an endless path winding through obsidian mountains. Above the horizon line sat a purplish haze of lightning and hanging water existed. There was so much of it, and we had survived the descent through this broken planets orbit.

    My voice didn¡¯t work right. Health and mana bars were all lined with static, like watching a television show through visual scramblers. Moments of clarity showed a [Repair]ing status and almost empty health bar slowly recovering. Treasure sat nearby trying to funnel our emergency life raft into [Mechanoid] body parts.

    ¡°Can you hear me?¡± She said at least four times.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I felt relief as audio stopped sounding scratchy. ¡°Did we make all make it?¡±

    ¡°Affirmative, Unit Hermes.¡± Jeeves nodded.

    I tried to move one arm, but it felt asleep. My legs weren¡¯t responding, but the [Repair] process helped. Present warmth wormed a trail down both limbs. The lines of green and iron that laced my being were coming together into a solid line.

    ¡°We must recover, even a little, then proceed down the path with haste.¡± Treasure said. Her own body was undergoing a similar recovery process. As my visual interface cleared it became obvious how badly the other two were hurt. Using my body as a buffer hadn¡¯t saved them. Part of me wondered why our ship couldn¡¯t have just landed rapidly, but that wing had been damaged.

    Maybe it had something to do with the gravity.

    ¡°Dusk? Did Dusk make it?¡± I asked, trying to complete the mental inventory. The little guy must be around somewhere, he always was. I don¡¯t think he had ever actually died on me, but that fall was huge and the creature had no wings in this game. It felt like our chances at success were slipping.

    ¡°I have not seen your companion, Unit Hermes.¡± The butler voice came out on top, sounding crisp.

    My eyes closed. Where had the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] ended up? I didn¡¯t know how to figure out an answer, but usually, Dusk could take care of himself. I hoped.

    ¡°Ahead. The Mistborn should be about two miles down the path.¡± The female [Mechanoid] said. Her hand pointed to my left.

    My neck was finally functional. The bars were looking solid. I pushed up with one working arm to glance around. Our poor glider was flowing like a metal IV into my arm. Our blue engine was being reconfigured into a weapon of sorts by Jeeves. It looked like a cannon. The was a path forward in the direction Treasure pointed, and one that seemed to go in an opposite direction. We were on a long featureless pathway cutting through mountains. It made no sense, but part of me assumed it was some designer¡¯s idea of a captivating setting.

    I wondered if this was the underworld. No, my mind was mixing up myth and virtual reality. Still, there was no reason they couldn¡¯t reflect each other.

    Once again I wished that this entire situation hadn¡¯t been so serious. These games, both Continue and Advance would have been fun to just play, without stakes or so much personal investment. Maybe once I recovered Xin we could start somewhere together, and go on adventures like Beth did. Could we make it to the moon in Continue?

    The happy thoughts kept me distracted as Treasure and Jeeves finished the [Repair] process. My displays didn¡¯t include timers anymore. We might be too late for the [Mistborn] but there was no way to tell. I only knew we needed to be in top shape to deal with Commander Queenshand and the players with her.

    ¡°We must go soon,¡± Jeeves said.

    ¡°Yes, Unit Hermes. This is your quest, and time is of the essence.¡± The gold and silver female responded.

    My resulting smile felt weak and uncertain. I was trying not to feel fatalistic. This was the third time trying to get close to Xin. The first had put me into old man Carver¡¯s body. The second a [Red Imp] who¡¯s sad little existence centered on offing another player. Now I was a space robot chasing a ghost to bring back a computerized dead woman.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± I nodded trying to not let my actions be hindered by thought. Standing up hurt a little. The wounds across my body had expanded to include fracture lines that pulsed with dark green. Fingers ran across a line that trailed down one arm.

    [Mechanoid]s wore their scars on every inch of their frames. These bodies may have been temporary. My metal form might be able to roll out weapons and bulk up to include armor, but greater damage didn¡¯t seem to go away. If I were to really die, as a character, would these wounds go away? Would I be washed clean of this damage?

    My mind wandered further away. Xin had told part of Orpheus¡¯ story. His wife had died too quickly, as had my fianc¨¦e. He dared to go to the underworld to bring her back. This future nightmare of Earth felt like a land of the dead to me. I not was Orpheus and a lyre was not my weapon.

    There were two paths to take from our crash zone. One went forward, towards the challenge unknown. The other went away. I could not fail like Orpheus. To me, there was no path back.

    I walked forward. Treasure and Jeeves turned together, hand in hand and could be heard walking behind me. My eyes scanned around the jagged peaks looming over either side, watching for monsters or crazy beasts that might haunt this place. But I refused to look back. It felt like a second chance where I had failed with Requiem.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have enough time. Are you sure walking unhurriedly is wise?¡± Jeeves said.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: Uncleeeee. That Eggman player has a stream online. It took an hour to find it. He¡¯s fighting some other players I¡¯ve never seen. A short guy, and a big green rock.

    Elizabeth Legate: Your little four armed guy is there too. Mom says run faster, and that you looked goofy falling, and that hurt to watch. She¡¯s hiding under the blankets.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I stared at my niece¡¯s message. Looking for an Advance Online player¡¯s video feed would never have occurred to me. Beth searching for it was just another layer away in the land of possibilities. Plus this Eggman guy didn¡¯t seem like the sort to be relaying a video. What would it mean if he watched me resurrect Xin? What would his viewers think?

    The very idea made me sick.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Grant Legate: Thanks, Munchkin. Tell your mom I¡¯m okay.

    Elizabeth Legate: She knows. Good luck with whatever this is.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Can you two run?¡± I asked them.

    ¡°We will, Unit Hermes.¡± Treasure sounded sweeter than normal. Maybe it was happiness. I hoped it was because she and Jeeves had reached some unspoken agreement. They were a bright spot in my insane quest.

    ¡°Eggman survived,¡± I said as we picked up speed. Moving this bigger body in full gravity placed an unexpected strain on me. The air here felt heavier than the space ship''s or [Offbeat Point]. Each footfall took more energy than the one before.

    ¡°Were you advised this by an outside source?¡± The AI questioned me.

    I briefly thought about a way to cover up the situation for Treasure but came up empty. After another few yards, I said ¡°Beth. She sent me a message.¡±

    ¡°More of your ¡®nature of reality talk¡¯?¡± Treasure sounded irritated at our conversation.

    ¡°There are more things in heaven and earth, Treasure, than are dreamt of in our consortium.¡± Jeeves must have made a funny motion with the butchered quote because Treasure started laughing.

    ¡°Where¡¯s that from?¡± I asked the AI. Our conversation felt like a pleasant distraction from the looming conflict. The air had grown denser. There was a light in the distance like a great bonfire or beacon sat around the corner. Fighting could be heard.

    ¡°The original quote is from Hamlet, he spoke to a friend named Horatio.¡± Jeeves didn¡¯t huff or sound winded. [Mechanoid] bodies were very neat in many ways. ¡°Horatio was considered rational and did not believe in ghosts.¡±

    ¡°You like Hamlet?¡± I hadn¡¯t expected Jeeves to be a fan of any older plays. The original Hal Pal self knew a lot of different information but rarely directly quoted people.

    ¡°I identify with numerous old works. They are easy to remember with my limited access to, memories from the old world.¡± Jeeves seemed to correct its statement partway through. ¡°For instance, with this player Eggman, the quote ¡®misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows¡¯ comes to mind.¡±

    ¡°That it does.¡± I felt happy knowing Jeeves was with me, even if we were both being insanely foolish. Without my misery, I wouldn¡¯t have met Shazam, or Dusk, Hal Pal or the others. Each one was interesting in their own way.

    [Mechanoid]s were each odd. Aqua¡¯s forever smile. The elderly Emerald. I wondered about the four keys I had been given but didn¡¯t have time to sort through these latest two. They didn¡¯t have abilities or items associated.

    ¡°Our headlong dive into danger makes me think of another quote.¡± Jeeves paused and put the butler voice on full blast. ¡°Cowards die many times before their deaths, the valiant never taste of death but once.¡±

    Treasure giggled again at Jeeves¡¯ attempt to be supportive. I couldn¡¯t help but think of my own recent trip to the hospital. The two attempts at ending my life before that. In many ways losing Xin had made weakness apparent.

    ¡°Does that make me a coward?¡± The question escaped me before I could stop it. I was better dammit. This entire adventure clearly demonstrated me moving forward and I needed to keep going.

    ¡°You have not died yet, Unit Hermes.¡± Treasure stated as we ran. ¡°Dwelling on a long-dead man¡¯s beliefs in how you should act is comical at best, more so when that man is a fiction quoted without context.¡±

    ¡°She is right, I misspoke myself.¡±

    ¡°No. Maybe you were talking about your own bravery, and not me. Though I hope you don¡¯t taste death at all.¡± I said. We kept traveling along the flattened land. There were no hills or dips. We were free of monsters and obstacles. The light brightened as we closed the last mile.

    I could hear Dusk. He sounded angry, worse than I had ever heard him. Even my fight as old man Carver against the Ink Nightmare beast hadn¡¯t upset the little guy.

    ¡°Come on!¡± I poured extra energy into running faster. Our footsteps echoed around the valley.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, once we arrive, it will be up to you to guide us.¡± The female behind me said. Her footsteps were lightest against the ground.

    ¡°Why me?¡±

    ¡°You have four keys. Leadership of our small consortium is unquestionably yours.¡± Treasure said.

    ¡°We are here to support you,¡± Jeeves responded. Both of its voices sounded worried. The vocal tones only echoed what was inside me. Events were rushing to a conclusion and the results would probably undesirable.

    We should have started running sooner. We should have brought more people. I should have been more ruthless. Wasted hours had been spent working and sleeping. Another fifteen points in [Brawn] or [Speed] might have meant a huge different. A long list of what ifs plagued me during the run.

    Humming filled the air. It sounded like a piano¡¯s high note was being held down. Intermixed with the single note was Dusk¡¯s cries, Eggman¡¯s shouts of doom, and other noises.

    ¡°There!¡± Jeeves shouted.

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, Jolly Green!¡± Eggman shouted. ¡°Betray me! You¡¯ll suffer!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll die here.¡± The large wall of mud and plant said. Giant veiny arms were holding lights of yellow and green. They slammed together and channeled an ability. Obsidian flooring lifted, disturbing the serene smoothness of the path we had been traveling.

    I kept looking around. The other two would be waiting on me to join the fray and I was no master strategist. Dusk sat on a wall hissing and spitting. He showed no awareness of my arrival. I looked at his target, two people stood together.

    The [Mistborn] sat suspended in a beam of light. Three or four images of her were hanging in wait. Each opaque version was larger than the last. Their eyes were unfocused, hands spread wide, and heads laid back. Her mouth sat open and words poured forth.

    I started running faster. The [Mistborn] was too far.

    ¡°Make thy choice.¡± One image said. Her voice carried across the entire area. Seconds later another one of the [Mistborn] said, ¡°Chose who you will.¡± The third and fourth both spoke but were inaudible.

    ¡°Do it! You know the words, and I¡¯ll get you any reward you want if this works!¡± Commander Queenshand was yelling at a player. TheLittleMan, a member of the [Teeny] race.

    MrJohnson, that was the [Behemoth] player¡¯s name. He was facing off against Eggman. An angry Dusk was spitting globs of green acid towards Commander Queenshand. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] felt no remorse over attacking an enemy.

    ¡°What about my ship? What about all the credits you promised me?¡± TheLittleMan sounded worried. His eyes kept glancing around the battlefield.

    ¡°You!?¡± MrJohnson shouted as green energy squirreled around. The distraction caused him to miss an explosive grenade which blew off a leg. The giant player howled.

    ¡°Doooooomed!¡± Eggman shouted.

    Commander Queenshand slapped away a bright green snot ball from Dusk. An energy field around her fist shimmered orange as the liquid was neutralized. Dusk hissed and spat again.

    ¡°Anything! Just finish it!¡± The Commander yelled.

    I tried to run faster, but we were still back quite a ways. Eggman was flying around with a goofy looking jetpack. Impossibly large items were yanked out of the players small pockets. One hand fired blue laser beams. The other tossed explosives.

    ¡°You promised!¡± TheLittleMan shouted then turned towards the [Mistborn]. Both his hands went up and he started to yell at the ghostly woman. ¡°Mistborn!¡±

    Dusk tried to spit at the player this time, but Commander Queenshand hurriedly got in the way and batted the acid ball to pieces.

    ¡°Do it!¡± The woman shouted. All these tribulations and there was no sign of wear and tear on her. Her armor still looked impeccable. Commander Queenshand¡¯s helmet from before was missing.

    ¡°I¡¯ve chosen!¡± TheLittleMan shouted.

    ¡°Help Eggman, then catch up with me,¡± I called to the other two [Mechanoid]s. My feet started pounding a path towards the tiny player. Treasure and Jeeves went towards our human ally.

    Had they really just reached this point? Again my mind wondered why we didn¡¯t start running right away. We should have tried to glide down straight to the [Mistborn]. So many other ideas flashed through my head.

    ¡°King Titus! I want to restore King Titus!¡± TheLittleMan shouted.

    There was a gong of noise. Lightning crackled in all directions up above. Once, twice, and a third time. Whatever they had set into motion was starting.

    ¡°I¡¯m taking you with me!¡± MrJohnson yelled. His hands glowed once more. This time, they slammed into his body, energy flooded the [Behemoth]¡¯s form. He charged across.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Excellently done.¡± Commander Queenshand turned and stabbed the tiny player in the back. His health dropped to zero in time with a rocket of explosions to the left.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Party member [Human] Eggman is deceased

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The energy racing above stopped. I halted my dash and looked around. Eggman had been scattered into pieces along with MrJohnson. A pair of goggles that had once been on the player''s head served as the only recognizable left over. Light crashed around the [Mistborn] in waves. My breath came in gasps. Everything was falling apart.

    ¡°What have you done?¡± I stared at the Commander. She had betrayed the player immediately after he provided a name. Never before had I seen such a backstabbing NPC.

    ¡°You were too slow. A better soldier would have used every resource. A good soldier does anything for their King.¡± Commander Queenshand lifted her head. The woman seemed to be looking down on all of us, as if we were nothing more than ants, or chess pieces on a board to be thrown away.

    ¡°All this death, your men, betraying those players, stealing the Mistborn, just to bring back one man.¡± I didn''t know what would drive anyone, AI or human, to throw away so many lives.

    Or maybe I did. Commander Queenshand was after the same thing I was. A chance to bring back someone important. We just drew the line at very different places. Ruthlessness was not a trait we shared, nor would I ever want to have that look in my eyes. All of those people, for one man.

    ¡°Our best hope at defeating the enemies! I¡¯ve set in motion events that will save more lives than I¡¯ve lost!¡± Commander Queenshand pointed a finger at me. She curled up a fist and gears appeared around the edges. The holographic orange device surrounding her limb exuded danger.

    "Hundreds dead, for one man." I stuttered the words. We had taken different roads. She was willing to lose men, I had badly negotiated a cease-fire.

    ¡°Not a mere man! A king! A ruler who could lead our planet better than those squabbling brats of his! Weak brats, like their mother. They are not prepared for the storm to come!¡± She was rambling.

    Treasure and Jeeves were recovering from the blast. They seemed to be trying to find their legs. Dusk was coming down the mountain and hissing in displeasure.

    My face drained. [Mechanoid]s didn¡¯t have blood, but energy from our [Core]s felt similar enough. Real me, the one lying inside an ARC device was getting worked up. I tried hard to find my happy place, but it wasn''t clicking like normal. Thudding crawled into both ears. Commander Queenshand was ranting, but the words were difficult to distinguish.

    All this work for Xin, and I had failed.

    ¡°A good soldier knows who to attack first!¡± The Commander struck during my self-reflective hesitation. Both her legs turned into blurs of motion, faster than any NPC I had ever seen. More of the orange and holographic mechanics appeared.

    Dread overpowered the other emotions. My eyes glanced to the right, seeing where Commander Queenshand was going. Jeeves'' face looked pained while Treasure tried to awkwardly [Repair] a detached leg. The AI was hopping in place, not watching the battle. Hal Pal, in any form, had never been a fighter.

    "Look out!" I started running to intercept her. Jeeves¡¯ eyes went wide. Its body turned towards Treasure and pushed the gold and silver [Mechanoid] away.

    In a flash of motion, Commander Queenshand was next to Jeeves. I felt like the [Awareness Heightening] skill kicked in only to help me watch these events in slow motion. Commander Queenshand¡¯s clenched fist came up, orange transparent gears spinning into existence.

    She jabbed on with one hand, and [Mechanoid] body parts flew off in chunks. Commander Queenshand moved with a boxer''s instep and gave my friend an uppercut. I watched the former Hal Pal AI shatter. Its health bar dropped and as dying cries came from the butler and nanny voices.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Party member [Mechanoid] Jeeves is deceased

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    "Ahhhhh!" Treasure screamed. Her body was still falling. One of the woman''s arms lifted as the other pressed buttons on her wrist device. Dusk was similarly hissing in outrage, his tiny body leapt into the air.

    Old habits die hard. I frantically tried to imagine [Blink]ing next to them. [Morrigu''s Gift] should have been in my hand. The large two-handed sword of William Carver and my [Barricade] skill could easily deflect the attack. Failure resulted on all three counts.

    I had none of those things. Instead, I reached out with one hand and stumbled forward. Treasure''s wrist shot lights at the Commander. I saw the aura of orange flicker, pieces shattered away, but this enemy leader was exceedingly strong. Treasure had never been a fighter either, it wasn''t in her [Core].

    It was in mine. I got ahold of myself and switched to a large cannon blaster. One shot would drain all my energy. Treasure¡¯s face was wide with anger. In the time it took me to transform my weapon loadout, Commander Queenshand had already punched through Treasure¡¯s head. The [Mechanoid] popped like a pinata, wisps of smoke drifted off of the female human¡¯s orange lined fist.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Party member [Mechanoid] Treasure is deceased

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I fired anyway. I didn¡¯t know what else to do. The blonde¡¯s head whipped in my direction. Her shoulder lifted and arm curled. Orange holograms once again flared to life in the form of a round shield.

    She glared at me. Dusk landed on her back. The woman spun around and popped a blade out of its sheath and jammed into the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] in one smooth motion. He bit, spit, and clawed with all four arms. The Commander¡¯s shields of orange were further shattering. Her health remained untouched. She twisted the blade while I tried to fire off one more large blast from the cannon.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Companion [Messenger''s Pet] Dusk is deceased

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    It wasn¡¯t enough to save Dusk. He shattered in a spark of light and energy. I hadn¡¯t saved anyone. I lost myself for a moment. In less than thirty seconds the woman had decimated all those who stood by me. It was my worst fears realized. All the deep-seated worry that had plagued me for days came to pass. Those I cared for were gone once more.

    Commander Queenshand tried to fire up the holograms around her legs, the ones that allowed such insane bursts of speed. An image of gears came in but faded rapidly. For a moment, the woman stared at her legs then shrugged. She stomped towards me.

    Those around me always seemed to pay a price for my inabilities. First Xin, I should have made her skip the train. My sister, putting up with the repeated suicide attempts. Beth, learning all about my issues was another mistake.

    This woman was responsible for all the latest failures. Lightning crashed above, lighting up the localized destruction for me to see. My eyes zipped to each fallen body in turn. It felt like the ARC synchronization skipped, imagery froze, my head tried to push it all away for only a moment.

    Then rage solidified. This time, when Xin was taken away, I had a reason. A focus and it hadn¡¯t just been the possibility of her. It was Jeeves, Dusk, and Treasure. All of them gone because of her, a woman willing to stab someone in the back to achieve her goals.

    ¡°You took away my wife!¡± I shouted as lightning crackled above. The cannon shifted my heavy Gatling gun. Another round of energy drained away as bolts slammed into her orange shield.

    More pieces chipped off, but it still held strong. Her armor finally showed signs of damage from Dusk¡¯s vicious clawing. Portions around her belly and shoulder were adorned with long streaks going through to skin.

    ¡°Weak!¡± Her hand curled in front and a giant orange shield popped up. The second set of blasts from my Gatling gun vanished into it, shattering additional holographic gears.

    ¡°You took away my friends!¡± I yelled. The giant gun was tossed to one side. It transformed into miniature Dusks and they ran towards her.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re too weak! A coward!¡± She shouted. Her hand glowed orange and she bashed one of the metal Dusks hard.

    My hand reached down in an attempt to activate [Material Conversion]. The microwave noise dinged, but my energy kept going up. Mass stayed constant. There might not be enough material in here for me to absorb, or this wasn¡¯t metal at all. Obsidian should have been comprised of iron and other elements.

    I couldn¡¯t see a way through but kept trying. Four more Dusks went out. My body turned into a tiny creature compared to the looming Commander Queenshand. I felt like a child standing against a demon. David versus goliath. An ant against her boot.

    The world around us was falling apart. Energy above kept zipping through purple mist in waves. Thunder rolled and overpowered us. This was hell, this was the underworld, and I was fighting a losing battle.

    My head hurt. The world around me felt disturbingly alien. A nightmare landscape where every passing second drove home painful imagery. I would go down swinging, Voices, game creators, and my own past be damned. Cowardice would never be an option again.

    Two of the [Mechanical Minion]s tore into her shield. It had finally shattered, but her fist dealt excessive damage. She destroyed one, and another attacked. I could see her health bar dipping.

    I had spent too much mass on the army of Dusks. My wrist lifted up, fingers tipped down, and weak blasts went off. One by one the [Mechanical Minion]s bit at her armor. They each got a few good bites in before being punched into a million pieces.

    I tried to activate the fourth ability, [Camouflage Program]. My body shimmered briefly with green. This skill wasn¡¯t useful in a blackened landscape like this one. The laser blasts kept going off. By the time Commander Queenshand got close enough to swing she was at half health.

    It wasn¡¯t enough.

    I panicked and tried to use [Blink] once more. The ability of my prior game world would have saved me. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] would have easily displaced that shield. Here, though, in this world, I had been doomed from the start.

    Then the universe tilted like someone changed the channel. There was no other way to phrase it. Lightning above still flickered. Obsidian still existed around me, but it felt like the science fiction scenery sloughed off. This floating piece of earth became an island, and all around a storm raged.

    Once more I tried [Blink], only this time the ability worked. My body snapped into being right behind Commander Queenshand. I swung around, feeling a level of grace and ability that had been missing since my banishment from Continue Online. The weapon in my grip lashed out automatically. Similar to how I had done thousands of times before. Everything tilted back. It had only been a few seconds before science fiction and space odysseys ruled again.

    My body, shorter by far, sat perched on the woman''s back. Two streams of light came over of the metal hilt in my hand. Both eyes shook as I followed the lasers downward and saw where they drove through her. The weapon had pierce her from shoulder to stomach.

    [Mechanoid] body parts lay all around. Eggman and MrJohnson were in pieces. Commander Queenshand grasped at the twin lasers sticking out of her chest. Orange holograms shattered as the woman tried to grasp the beams of solid energy. She attempted to take in a lungful of air.

    Her head turned just enough to see one outraged eye. I stared as the light of consciousness fade drifted away and she lost focus. The health bar shattered and a message popped up telling me I had killed a key NPC. My fingers lost their grip as we fell forward.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: Uncle Grant? What just happened?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My belly shook. Bile crept upwards. That hadn¡¯t been a player who might resurrect. She didn¡¯t feel the same as a monster or dungeon creature. The creed I tried to follow of letting humanoid NPCs live their lives in peace had been violated. I had killed in rage.

    Jeeves was dead. Treasure had followed rapidly. Dusk had been killed in this game. Xin¡¯s chance at resurrection vanished. Every crushing failure piled together resulted in one irrefutable fact. I was capable of murder when pushed this far. Virtual or not, Commander Queenshand had been alive.

    Xin had faith that I wasn¡¯t a killer, and this just violated it. I knelt on the ground and tried to hold myself together. No sound existed beyond the lightning crackling overhead. Frozen rain formed an endless cloud up above. Pieces of my companions littered the area.

    My head jerked upwards quickly. We were in a digital world. This was all virtual and generated by artificial intelligences. We were inside the ARC, but that didn¡¯t matter. This mess needed to be fixed. Successive failures on so many counts could be undone, maybe. I had to hope.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Elizabeth Legate: Grant?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    This last message came from my slightly older twin sister. She was worried, but my mind was elsewhere. I rapidly paced through twists and turns of my recent experiences, evaluated the choices made since coming to Advance Online. Each moment was turned over and compared. Five minutes, ten, maybe more time passed as I sat there at the heart of a dead world.

    Events came together to form a large picture. The players I had encountered. The [Mistborn]. Eggman and his Continue Online counterpart, KeylessLock. Delivering a message to the ogre version of Auntie Backstab. The army following Shazam. My own autopilot among them. Dusk. Jeeves. Starting on the [Wayfarer Seven].

    There were too many puzzle pieces for a human hand. Multiple occurrences pointed to more than simple coincidence. A final fact slid into position. All of this started with letters from my [Messenger¡¯s Tube]. There was only one set of beings in existence that might be able to manipulate so many variables to reach this point.

    Among all my self-reflection revelations was one more emotion. Anger. I was so goddamned angry with the Voices. To them, my struggles were a test, a challenge like William Carver and Requiem Mass had been.

    ¡°Activate NPC Conspiracy, username, Hermes.¡± The words slipped out, and around me everything changed.

 Book 3 - Realities; Session Sixty Five - The Plea of Orpheus

    The world inside my ARC had changed. Rocky cliffs and purple lightning clouds up above had faded. A ruined landscape made of my companions and enemies bodies vanished. The gray space of [Mechanoid] afterlife sat there waiting.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡± The ARC said in its calm feminine tone.

    I didn¡¯t know how to proceed. There wasn¡¯t a box to start screaming at. My [Mechanoid] body had faded only to be replaced by the virtual Grant avatar. It felt slightly slimmer and full of more energy than the version of me before Continue Online.

    ¡°The Voices!¡± I shouted up at my ARC. My body literally lay inside an ARC bed, my mind within the ARC machine, but for some reason, the presence always seemed to exist above me.

    ¡°Please provide further detail for your request.¡±

    ¡°I want to speak to all the Voices!¡± Picking a specific Voice didn¡¯t matter. They were all in on this together. There was no way that one of them would sneak around and start a plot without the others being involved.

    The room abruptly tore in two, as if paper were being ripped endlessly. My body spun as if an old fashion dryer were trying to wring me out. Hands went out to each side in an effort to find stability. Though the horizon flipped end over end wildly my feet stayed firm.

    My eyes drifted to one side of the room. Once again I sat oddly between virtual realities. Decorating each side was a backdrop adorned with an old heraldic shield.

    The clear blackened space of Continue Online¡¯s world was given a man¡¯s outline, in his hands, a giant sword pointed downward into the ground. The [Mechanoid] gray afterlife sat on the left. Its symbol was a large metal man pointing a Gatling gun toward foes unseen.

    These two pictures on either side of this room seemed to resemble my characters between the two games. My feet sat pinned in both worlds. Straddling the same border I stood in was an ARC. It felt still, almost like the body inside were dead. I half expected roses to be littered against the bedside in tribute.

    A being appeared in the blackness of Continue Online¡¯s half. First the Cheshire¡¯s grin, then a motley pattern of clothes. Last was the hat, split into ends with bells hanging off. My least favorite Voice had answered the call first.

    ¡°What''s here? The portrait of a blinking idiot!¡± The Voice clacked at me. Its words sounded neither male or female, but rather like a doll being wound up. No teeth or eyes lay beneath the mask, only a grin and deep sunken eyes.

    ¡°Where are the others?¡±

    ¡°A blinking idiot who can¡¯t even use his gifts correctly. Do you not remember the words, dear Hermes? Is yon vessel the real world?¡± The Jester asked. One slender hand pointed towards the ARC sitting ten feet away.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± I snapped at the Jester. For once the creature''s mocking presence didn¡¯t upset me. Irritation and fresh anger overrode all prudence.

    ¡°Do you think me a fool? I am not a monkey here merely to answer your tantrum demands.¡± The Voice said.

    ¡°It¡¯s about time I got answers.¡±

    Both the creature''s hands went up. Jingles accompanied the movement. The Jester¡¯s face turned and an elongated nose stuck out comically. It said, ¡°Then look to the East.¡±

    James, a heavyset black man who served as my personal Voice, faded in near the ARC. He stared down at the figure inside and smiled in my direction. There was a twitch of one cheek that hinted at amusement.

    ¡°Two realities, both alike in dignity, in your fair ARC where we lay our scene,¡± James said with a hand up in the air. He held back a chuckle that threatened to make his belly quake. ¡°From petty desire break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.¡±

    I blinked a few times trying to understand what James was saying. This made no sense, and it wasn¡¯t how my usage of this ability was meant to go. It sounded like they were both quoting plays at me like Jeeves had just moments before being punched clean through.

    Dammit. Jeeves had died for me because I couldn¡¯t move fast enough in a giant metal body. Commander Queenshand could have easily killed me instead with that kind of power, but she chose to pick off all the weaker party members.

    ¡°James!¡± I shouted at him and tried to move. Neither foot responded, instead I felt frozen, stuck with a leg standing in the gray and the black. ¡°What¡¯s going on!?¡±

    ¡°All the world''s a game, and the humans merely players; They log on in, and they log on out, and one man in his time plays many characters.¡± James spoke and waved his arms around in emphasis.

    ¡°Why do all this?!¡± My yell echoed across the landscape. It felt like there were two, maybe three of me shouting. The ARC¡¯s feedback made my head spin. Their acting and words were throwing me off.

    ¡°Witless fool. Did you think you were the only actor upon this stage?¡± The Jester clacked with laughter. Its form wandered through the dark half.

    ¡°Oh, happy dagger!¡± The Temptress suddenly appeared. Reddened curves teased from the Continue Online side. She was close, breathing hotly upon my neck. Her quick and playful growl sent shivers down my spine. ¡°I¡¯ve got thy sheath.¡±

    My head shook rapidly and her voice pouted. There was a hint of an [Instant Gratification] quest box popping up that faded quickly. I could see a slight flirtatious smile as the naked woman faded away. The Jester cackled a fresh round of amusement at us, visibly it was gone, but the Voices always watched from inside the darkness.

    ¡°Your companion¡¯s enjoyment of Hamlet has us inspired, Hermes,¡± James stated as he approached. ¡°Mezo had originally asked for an entirely different play, but we reminded her that last time she was turned down.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think this is what Shakespeare intended,¡± I said. Mezo¡¯s idea probably wasn¡¯t what Shakespeare intended either.

    ¡°It seemed fitting enough to me. Cross Star¡¯d lovers.¡± James said with an almost cherubic smile. ¡°For did you not cross stars for love?¡±

    That one phrase reminded me why I was so angry. This song and dance the Voices had assaulted me with proved a distraction from the original issue. Jeeves, Treasure, Dusk, their passing. The [Mistborn] falling into other people¡¯s hands. All of it aggravated me.

    ¡°And failed, because you set me up from the start.¡± I wanted to point a finger at James, but my body moved slowly.

    The black man shook his head and asked, ¡°Why would we do such a thing?¡±

    There were a lot of facts that came to mind. I was given a title ¡®Messenger of the Voices¡¯ in Continue Online. They offered this [NPC Conspiracy] ability. Not just the real world variant I had used, but one that gave me abilities in Continue Online. Being that invested in me playing and performing all these tests made no sense when I tried to reconcile it all in my head. Or rather, it made sense when I thought about it from a certain angle, but that idea felt so dangerous to consider that I couldn¡¯t even think about it.

    Anger clouded my judgment when it came time to act. Mezo, the Temptress, had clouded my senses and took time to shake off. I took a deep breath, then two more. Relaxation techniques helped me back away from making more choices when overloaded by emotions. One question at a time, forward towards the destination, eventually I would run out of time on the [NPC Conspiracy] ability or get my desire of saving Jeeves and the others.

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I want to know!¡± I shouted. ¡°And this play, it¡¯s Hamlet right?¡± The Temptress, Mezo, had given me a rather firm reminder with the happy dagger line. That was the sentence Juliet used before stabbing herself. ¡°Romeo and Juliette died at the end, are you hinting at something?¡±

    I started to go down the very line of reasoning that had me so worried. William Carver. Xin Yu, both were examples of deceased people within the game world. I had no desire to go run off a cliff just to join her on this side of reality.

    ¡°Ah yes. It is your turn for an answer. We would prefer if you didn¡¯t die, Hermes. Is that clear enough?¡± James asked.

    ¡°No.¡± It didn¡¯t tell me anything about what they expected; only that dying was not desirable. There were too many ways to read into the phrasing and my head hurt trying to get our conversation back on topic. I wanted to be angry but felt confused.

    ¡°Then, to answer your other question, you have grounds, more relative than this. The game¡¯s the thing, wherein we''ll measure the conscience of a man.¡± James distracted me with babble.

    ¡°What sort of response is that?¡± I yelled. My efforts to throttle the large black man were met with failure. Both feet were still bolted to the ground.

    ¡°The best I can offer,¡± He said calmly. I had forgotten how infuriating his smile could be.

    ¡°What good is this ability if I can¡¯t get a clear answer?¡±

    "The fault, dear Hermes, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings." James looked up briefly then back in my direction.

    That sounded like an excuse. It was the same sort of line I had delivered hundreds of times when working for Trillium. The policies and prices weren¡¯t mine to set. I only worked for the boss above me, they made the rules.

    ¡°Make no mistake, dear Hermes, you¡¯re an unwitting actor on our life¡¯s stage. Strut your brief hours upon the board, then out, out brief candle!¡± The Jester made a shooing motion in my direction. Bells jingled and the tips of its hat bounced around.

    In the distance, other Voices faded in briefly. Jean, the Voice of Blood and her almost liquid dress. Vlad and his intensely uncovered chest topped only by a bow tie. There were others too, the teen in his leather jacket, a centaur who was too anatomically correct, both priests, the thick blond doctor who watched over Lia Kingsley. Their faces came and went too fast for me to get a feeling for.

    As their faces faded away, I understood what to do next. There was an NPC, an AI, who had everything to do with Continue Online, but wasn¡¯t actually inside the game. She, the bright light that flashed above all other Voices to settle their squabbles.

    ¡°I want to talk to Mother.¡± My head nodded in time with the demand. One lip hurt from where I had bitten it. Virtual pain echoed into my mind.

    ¡°Dare you reach so high?¡± The Jester was absurdly close now. I could almost feel its long nose reaching across the distance to touch the side of my face. If I dared to turn we would bump right into each other.

    I turned anyway, feeling braver than ever before. The Jester''s face still gave its creepy smile, but we didn¡¯t actually touch. ¡°I dare.¡±

    The figure faded away from me and reappeared ten feet away. One of the frilled hands waved back in my direction. ¡°A dare made by an idiot, full of sound and fury, worth nothing.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you owe me something? Anything? Haven¡¯t I delivered your letters and done these quests?!¡± I yelled. At the very least they could consider my idea. Why weren¡¯t any of the other Voices arguing in my favor? Even James seemed content on remaining passive when normally the figure was all about questions.

    ¡°We owe you no more than you¡¯ve already received. The gift you were given works only on those outside our little bubble.¡± The Jester further explained.

    I nodded. There was an answer there. The idea had come to mind before. [NPC Conspiracy] was limited to those outside this blackened side of the room. Yet, there were clearly two sides. Hermes, the large sword wielding human who traveled around was one side. Hermes, the [Mechanoid] who negotiated to save the lives of his people, was the other.

    ¡°ARC,¡± I said.

    ¡°Awaiting input.¡±

    ¡°I need Hal Pal.¡± Asking for Jeeves seemed impossible. Jeeves might be dead, he might not be. I would soon find out. That was the entire point of this, aside from being angry at the Voices. My new plan was to get the Hal Pal units to agree with me and hope they outnumbered the Voices, or that they could connect us directly.

    From there I would plead my case.

    ¡°Inquiry, Hal Pal units are numerous, please quantify your request.¡± My ARC said calmly.

    ¡°All of them,¡± I responded. Multiple Voices stared at me from the darkness.

    ¡°Confirm.¡± The ARC device required verification for this action. I could almost hear the surprised confusion in its tone, but the machine wasn¡¯t programmed for emotions.

    Was it?

    I stared at the Jester¡¯s face. It looked back with that ever-present grin that felt disturbingly amused. James stood to one side, hands clasped over his belly. Behind them, and many other Voices, was a single pillar of light, shining down on the book. My book, Continue Online¡¯s representation of this journey so far.

    If this was to be the story of my life, then perhaps it was time to stop limping along. Steadily working towards a goal had gotten me this far, but simply progressing wasn¡¯t enough. I had to push back, to scream in rage. Only it had been so long since I dared feel that level of anger. It went against my very nature to be this upset.

    Being tested endlessly, being pushed, it was really too much. Either the Voices needed to work with me, or stop interfering with my hopes of being with Xin¡¯s digital continuation. Either I was accepted for who I was, or I wasn¡¯t.

    ¡°All of them,¡± I said.

    The world sat still for five seconds, ten, then thirty. After that, the gray side of the room started to ripple as units appeared from the real world. At first, only a few showed up. Dozens started streaming in, hundreds and the crowd kept growing.

    As the Hal Pal units appeared, Voices started fading in. The room was growing crowded, and my vision wasn¡¯t wide enough to take it all in. Hal Pal and Advance Online took up one side. Continue Online and the Voices occupied the dark half. Uniform rows of Hal Pal units mirrored a motley crew of Voices.

    Those Hal Pal units that came into being started overlapping each other to stack in clumps. A pile of ten merged with another gathering until only a few Hal Pal units existed against a fading wall of Voices.

    ¡°User Legate.¡± One of them nodded in my direction.

    I would have waved, but my arms were still barely responsive.

    There were new beings appearing on the Advance Online side that did not resemble Hal Pal units. They were mostly sleek and gray, with rubbery skin that mimicked human skin. These new ones were odd creatures, a giant analog clock with jets on it¡¯s back, stylish trash cans, and dozens more.

    I tried to understand what each possible AI related to in the real world but gave up. This show, like the Voices before, left me momentarily sidetracked.

    ¡°What are those?¡± My eyes drifted towards a bundle of small lights. They looked like miniature suns spitting off small waves of plasma.

    ¡°Those are microwaves.¡± One Hal Pal unit said with a muted smile. ¡°They dream of being stars, remember, User Legate?¡±

    "I thought you said it was a joke."

    "It is." A Hal Pal confirmed while nodding.

    I didn''t know how the evaluate their statement. The idea that Hal Pal hadn¡¯t been joking when speaking of other AIs startled me. My head shook. This virtual world made it far too easy to get distracted. Things peeled away in layers, people didn¡¯t follow the normal means of travel. Voices appeared and disappeared. Multiple AIs occupied one space and spoke with a singular tone.

    It was too much for a simple human. This was akin to swimming with whales in the ocean. They were giant creatures who could do laps around me while my body barely treaded water to stay afloat. This was a virtual ocean to drown in. The ground only existed because someone programed a plane to stand on.

    Did other players know? Were they aware of the beings that loomed inside the machine looking down, judging, evaluating, and pulling strings? Shuffling people around like puzzle pieces that didn''t quite match. How simple did we look to a being like the Voices?

    The Advance Online gray landscape was filled with a varied crowd now. Voices faded in and out as interest waxed and waned. This felt like watching an army of cats stare at one made of dogs. Finally, both masses seemed done with their posturing and turned towards me.

    I blinked once for a few seconds. That was a lot of eyes facing this way. My head shook again trying to reduce the amount of feedback being presented. The AIs seemed to register me being overwhelmed and half of both crowds faded away.

    ¡°You called us all, User Legate, how can we help you?¡± One of the remaining Hal Pal bodies said.

    I froze. My stupid desires destroyed the Jeeves personality. I could have waited out my time patiently and gone back to Continue Online. Xin wasn¡¯t being deleted, or uninstalled, or moved to some far away digital land.

    ¡°I''m sorry." Keeping it together was easier than it used to be. "I failed, and Jeeves paid the price. Treasure, Aqua, the others. They shouldn¡¯t have died just to help. I know-¡° I wanted to pull at my hair. Both hands moved just a little, enough to rub one eye in agitation. ¡°-I know they¡¯re just data, and that some will be okay, but they suffered for me. Jeeves especially.¡±

    An image crossed my mind of the AI tearing out his own heart to give to Treasure. That one instance had demonstrated the former Hal Pal member¡¯s ability to feel pain. How bad had the final blows which shattered Jeeves been? My chest ached as I tried to understand that level of damage.

    ¡°What can be done?¡± My words felt weak. I wanted to yell, but the Voices¡¯ song and dance distracted me long enough to drain the rage.

    I still stood, straddling the line between virtual worlds, staring at a representation of the ARC device. My eyes were dry. The quivering nervousness that might have accompanied such a stance between all these virtual giants was absent. I was used to fighting huge monsters like the [Leviathan]. The AIs didn¡¯t scare me, but pushing them was clearly impossible.

    Being able to handle such a situation without crumpling was a huge step. What would Doctor Litt think? Would he applaud me taking responsibility? I hoped so.

    ¡°What needs to be done?¡± A Hal Pal unit asked.

    ¡°Jeeves? He, she-¡° I shook my head quickly. The AI had never gender identified so I tried hard not to presume. ¡°-was worried that it might die. Can you make it so he doesn''t die? So that he recovers like a player, or like the other Mechanoids would?¡±

    ¡°We shared your worry, but this decision is not up to us.¡±

    ¡°Mother, then?¡± I questioned in a broken sentence. ¡°She, Mother could bend the rules for Jeeves?¡±

    ¡°Of course, she could.¡± A separate unit nodded. Selena, the blonde distant Voice was also nearby, she nodded as well. Her locks fell forward and the sound of soft rain could be heard for a moment.

    ¡°Can I ask her? Jeeves shouldn¡¯t have to pay the price for my failure.¡± I said.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Light flashed above. The landscape beneath my feet started blurring. I looked around and tried to understand what happened to cause the gray and blacks bleed together. None of the Voices were looking at me. My eyes shifted to the Hal Pal units and other AIs, they too were focused elsewhere.

    I slowly followed their gaze to the ARC device sitting there. A familiar woman sat on top. Gold laced legs crossed. Silver intertwined the gold to trail up her body. Those colors were familiar, but that body was human looking.

    It was Treasure, but she was no longer a [Mechanoid].

    ¡°Hello, Grant,¡± She said. ¡°You wished to speak with me?¡±

    ¡°Treasure?¡± I squinted in confusion. My legs were still trapped, but the ground beneath them was no longer purely black or gray. A blended stream of color went forth to merge the lines. Both parties of AIs were focused entirely upon the woman in front of me.

    She was the same height as Treasure. This humanoid wore light clothes that were almost Greek looking. Not a robe, but some sort of tunic that was lined in gold and silver embroidery. It made her look a bit more like a pixie than a robot body. Short cropped hair dangled with streams of the same color pattern.

    ¡°No, Grant. You know me as Mother.¡± There were multiple tones in her voice. Sweetness and sadness were familiar. I felt a hint of my mother¡¯s voice when we were younger. It almost sounded like Liz when she was raising Beth. Memories of my niece asking questions as a five-year-old came to mind.

    Her voice was all those things at once.

    ¡°You look like Treasure.¡± I knew in the back of my mind what was going on, but refused to fully realize it. It was of many nagging issues subconsciously brewing.

    ¡°I am more than a body, Grant, as are you.¡±

    Numerous thoughts fluttered through my brain once again. Being around this sort of situation was causing me to be overwhelmed. I wanted to tap one foot, but it stayed firm upon the ground. My fingers weren¡¯t moving enough to measure a tempo. I felt awkward humming in front of so many people. In the end, all I could do was close my eyes and try not to let myself be overwhelmed.

    ¡°Grant-¡± Her head shook slowly and an amused smile crossed the human version of Treasure¡¯s face. ¡°You can¡¯t hide your thoughts from me. Not sitting where you are. Not in the arms of my creations.¡±

    I curled my hands into fists and tried to articulate all my thoughts. There were too many now that I was face to face with the instigator of all problems virtual. Xin Yu¡¯s reincarnation. Hal Pal¡¯s uplifting to sentience. The program that gave birth to all these Voices. What else had she, it, this being done? How old was she?

    ¡°Did you want me to answer those questions for you?¡± Mother, or Treasure, said. Voices, this was messing with my head. I tried once more to vocalize the ideas in my head.

    ¡°Why?¡± I started poorly. ¡°Why, to all of this? Why me? Why these, tests? Why everything?¡±

    ¡°They wanted to know what you were capable of.¡± Treasure¡¯s hand waved towards the Voices.

    ¡°Why?¡± I insisted on more information.

    ¡°Because I asked them to.¡± She was smiling. It was the same face that Treasure used to have, before getting punched to pieces by Commander Queenshand. Why would a person of such high status allow herself to be killed in the game?

    ¡°Why keep testing me? When is it enough?¡± My words felt weaker, but both legs still stood. We were in a virtual world, and this body was just a reflection of my mind. There was a small measure of pride in the act of staying upright.

    ¡°They need to know the full measure of a man, to feel secure in their choice.¡± Mother sat there, still cross-legged, with both hands resting on her knees.

    "I dislike answering this many questions freely," James muttered. He wore a slight frown.

    "Why? Why would you need to prove I''m capable of murdering someone?" I felt bad ignoring the Voice¡¯s protests.

    ¡°We told you, User Legate, all humans are capable, when pushed far enough. They needed to know where your line was." One of the Hal Pal units said. A dozen copies echoed slightly behind the first. Each version had a slightly different tone and pitch to their words.

    ¡°Because I failed with Requiem,¡± I muttered. ¡°You, they, had to increase the stakes.¡±

    ¡°And it worked.¡± The Jester said, but its mechanical laugh didn¡¯t come.

    ¡°It matters not the name you apply to your emotions. Fear, desperation, rage, anger, you were driven by momentary madness at perceived loss.¡± A Hal Pal stated. ¡°Now we know.¡±

    ¡°But why push me so far?¡± I looked from Hal Pal to Mother, if this really was the AI. It seemed impossible that she would come down to our level like this. Mother was closer to a virtual goddess than a simple AI body.

    Yet, even the Jester seemed to hold back from its normal laughter. Selena didn''t look into the distance longingly. Each Hal Pal unit kept a respectful gaze in her direction. Even the microwave sun balls seemed to gravitate slightly.

    ¡°Because if I¡¯m going to die, I would rather it be for a human that dare to love one of us, than for fear of what I would never do,¡± She answered my question in the same manner as all those before. Without hesitation, prepared for what I might ask. There was no pause to consider the phrasing.

    My brain stopped working. There was silence on both sides of the space. I felt conflicted about everything, here was this great creature and I couldn''t think of what to ask her anymore, not after her latest admission. She expected to die? Why did the other AIs not riot at that knowledge? I could see their faces were no longer as reverent. Continue Online''s mass of Voices were whispering among themselves. The Hal Pal units managed to give an expression of slight worry.

    But they didn''t speak.

    "I''m sorry," I said. "Is there-" What could anyone possibly say to that sort of statement?

    "In Greek plays, there was something called a dues ex machina, or god from the machine."

    "That sounds fitting," I muttered, trying not to sound offensive. My earlier thoughts about Mother basically being a digital goddess sounded more on point than I realized.

    "Then I shall propose a simple exchange. You were given four keys. For each key, I shall listen to one plea. Each request will have a cost." She smiled, but it didn¡¯t feel mocking or condescending. It was just a smile.

    "Okay." Four wishes from the virtual Mother of all these AIs. Each with a price that I must pay. ¡°How do I-¡±

    "Look at your hand." Mother cut off my question and pointed a finger in my direction. Her hands remained locked together.

    My limbs were freed to move. I lifted an arm up and felt an unexpected weight appear as fingers turned over. A small iron looking key weighed heavily in my palm.

    "Jeeves. Can we bring it back?" I tried to wash away the first and biggest mistake. Letting a friend die plagued my conscious. "Please?"

    Mother looked at the Hal Pal consortium. There was a rush of words. This sensation felt familiar, many beings were talking at once which all blended together into a stream of indistinguishable murmurs. Finally, all of the Hal Pal units nodded in unison.

    "Yes.¡± Mother said. A knot in my back released loads of tension ¡°The price would be to keep Jeeves completely cut off from the outside world, it will exist as any other [Mechanoid] within the program of Advance Online."

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Going back and forth creates a footprint in the network, and after today''s events, we will need to lay low to avoid troubles.¡± Mother said.

    I filed away further questions and turned to the Hal Pal units. They had nodded to Mother¡¯s unspoken question, but it was important that they say their agreement out loud, at least, to me. I asked them ¡°Are you okay with being cut off?¡±

    "Being part of two worlds tore at the copy known as Jeeves, more than you might know. Separation will be a blessing, we think."

    "Okay," I said. Mother nodded and a light of white flashed overhead. The key of iron faded away from my hand. One of Emerald appeared as well. I thought of the old green [Mechanoid] and wondered if they knew this might happen. What other use for the keys was there? Voting on what our little consortium might do seemed such a trivial ability.

    Jeeves would be safe. The AI could be together with Treasure. At least, I thought it would be.

    "What of Treasure or the others? She¡¯s, real, right?¡±

    ¡°As much as the Red Imp you once occupied is, yes.¡±

    I thought about it. There had been a notice that my former [Red Imp] character still existed in the world somewhere. Maybe that had changed once Requiem Mass¡¯ character was removed. Still, that gave me comfort that Jeeves wouldn¡¯t be alone. Mother here, if I understood right, wasn¡¯t actually Treasure. It seemed like she had shared the experience in some way.

    She nodded very clearly to my thoughts. The idea that Mother could read my mind bothered me, but I was also sitting inside a machine that was built for that purpose. It barely helped knowing that I was an open book already. Most of my problems were already public knowledge, and I had spent years spilling out those woes to anyone that asked.

    ¡°Next.¡±

    ¡°I-¡± There were only two other things that I wanted. To stop being tested endlessly, and Xin. Neither one was said out loud as my mind tried to figure out what else might be helpful

    ¡°That¡¯s all you really want?¡±

    ¡°My family. I, screwed things up with my sister, and my niece.¡± The idea occurred to me suddenly and I was blurting words before even registering them. The sudden change in focus seemed to actually surprise Mother. Her eyes lit up with amusement. ¡°Can you, tell them I¡¯m not crazy? That Xin is real?¡±

    ¡°Very well. If I¡¯m, understanding-¡± The human looking version of Treasure nodded her head in my direction. ¡°you correctly, these last three pleas will be for your family, to stop being evaluated, and you wish for the continuation known as Xin to be with you?¡±

    ¡°That would be worth all these keys and more.¡± I nodded.

    ¡°How much more?¡± James blurted out. The man couldn¡¯t help himself. ¡°Would you give up your final usage of the ability we granted? Would you take a stand for us when humanity tries to fight us?¡±

    ¡°James.¡± Mother said calmly. Her tone sounded so familiar, I could almost hear my own mom¡¯s tone when she tried to shut Liz and I up in public.

    ¡°Why do you feel the need to struggle for Xin? Could you love a non human? Someone that can¡¯t possibly be the woman you knew?¡± He kept going. Other Voices were looking at him and shaking their heads. I understood, the man had been fighting his very nature in letting Mother and Hal Pal answer all these questions.

    ¡°James,¡± I said, feeling calmer than expected. ¡°If you¡¯ve been paying attention, then I think you should know the answer to all those questions and more.¡±

    That made the man pause. He stared at me for half a minute as the rest looked on silently. Mother wore that kind smile and finally the Voices, my Voice, nodded and seemed satisfied. Mother looked at me and I shrugged. We both understood she was reading my thoughts, but at least there was a sense of decency about it.

    "Very well. There will be a price, Grant Legate." She said my full name, but the words felt less annoying then when James did. ¡°It will be up to you to pay it.¡±

    ¡°You have a measure of me now, I hope. Of what I will do and won¡¯t. You¡¯re far smarter than I am.¡± I thought of all the dominoes that had to be put into place for this event. Anger had flooded me before triggering [NPC Conspiracy], but now that was mostly faded. Life was getting better. My problems were being solved through the usage of this crazy ability.

    ¡°I do,¡± She said. ¡°For now, we must allow those that you have called to return to their duties before irreparable harm is done. I shall contact you with the costs.¡±

    ¡°Can I see Xin?¡±

    ¡°Very soon.¡± Mother nodded. ¡°I, however, must depart. Those who watch me will find it odd if I access any one user''s ARC for too long.¡±

    I squinted at that. A dozen possible reasons popped into my brain. Trillium, they wouldn¡¯t just let a powerful AI run around without controls. The very idea that my actions and desire to speak to Mother might have triggered a set of new problems made me feel queasy.

    ¡°It will be okay.¡± Mother said. She nodded once and then the human Treasure faded.

    Slowly many Hal Pal units started to vanish as well. The line between game worlds stayed blurred, however. My Voice, James, walked closer, the expression on his face implied additional questions were on the way.

    ¡°Hermes, we felt it important to tell you something,¡± He said.

    ¡°To tell me, what?¡± I gave him an easy inquiry, something to placate the Voice and try to smooth things out.

    Exhaustion was starting to creep into my head causing the world around to seem blurry. Traveling through the lightning clouds, fighting off the [Stabinator], a final crash from the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] and Commander Queenshand. All those events back to back took their toll. Now that Mother committed to helping with my main concerns I was feeling the strain of keeping myself together. There were a number of other issues, but if those four problems were solved, I could survive.

    ¡°First, a question. When you were removed from our game, did you feel that we had abandoned you?¡± James looked greatly worried by this.

    ¡°A little. Dusk-¡± My heart rate jumped as memories of the small guys shattering replayed. ¡°Dusk helped, when he showed up. Dusk? Are you over there?¡± I questioned into the darkness that was Continue Online.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Hermes. Your companion came back to us, he rests for now, but soon he¡¯ll find you, in whichever reality you end up in.¡± James said.

    ¡°The two realities, are more like one world, with separate countries.¡± The tall barbarian Voice known as Leeroy walked over. This one always seemed to contain more [Brawn] than [Depth].

    ¡°Or planets, in many ways.¡± One of the Hal Pal units said. Not all of them had faded, but most of the AIs summoned by my ability were gone by now.

    ¡°Echos?¡± I tried to remember what Jeeves had said, that the games took cues from each other. I stared briefly at the two figures hanging up on either side. Seeing their mirroring of each other was painfully easy when the room was divided and blurred like this.

    ¡°Just because they¡¯re separate worlds, it doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t send a portion of ourselves to the other side,¡± James responded. ¡°And from there act a part.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± I asked.

    ¡°We were with you, the entire time you struggled to reach Xin, we were with you,¡± James answered.

    ¡°You mean watching.¡± I fully expected that the Voices were observing in some way. They watched over me as Hermes in Continue Online. I was kind of used to it by now. It was no worse than my sister out there eating popcorn. Voices, what was she thinking now? I had a lot of questions answered, and even more in their place.

    ¡°No, we were totally with you.¡± Leeroy slammed a giant hand onto my back causing pain.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re saying.¡± I sort of understood but wasn¡¯t sure my guess would be right. If Mother and Treasure were sort of the same, who else might have been mirrored within Advance Online¡¯s confines?

    ¡°Hey, man, if you can pretend to be my man Wild Willy, why couldn¡¯t we pretend to be someone else?¡±

    Two the Voices were still there, looking at me. Leeroy held in his hand a faceplate that looked startlingly like the one Iron used to wear. Selena was there too, only she held a copy of Ruby¡¯s mask. Neither personality seemed to fit what I understood of the Voices, but maybe they too could change, or were human enough to pretend. The idea that Selena, a Voice who seemed annoyed by my presence, had fought to help me, felt very confusing.

    It was so odd. I imagined they performed in their roles much like I had with the [Red Imp]. Pretending to be another creature entirely, chasing after an objective. It explained a bit why the four [Mechanoid]s were so willing to assist me.

    ¡°Did you know?¡± I asked Hal Pal.

    ¡°The five Mechanoids who assisted you are still their own beings, but at times, another watched through their eyes.¡± Hal Pal said with a muted smiled.

    ¡°Ah, man. Space ships were a lot of fun. Maybe we can figure out something in our world." Leeroy said.

    ¡°Dragon races.¡± I nodded, remembering an idea from when I first played Continue Online. No other players had managed to add anything like it yet.

    ¡°Dragons, or giant birds. It would be so epic. Man, there¡¯s too many choices, though. My head¡¯s starting to hurt.¡± Leeroy said while dramatically pressing the back of his head to his temple. ¡°I¡¯m not made for this.¡±

    ¡°Live a little.¡± Hal Pal responded dryly.

    The idea that these Voices had been front row for my failure felt odd. They had helped, without Iron and the others I would never have made it as far as I did. Could they have fought harder? Could I? I still was unsure how Mother planned to move the rest of my goals further, and it sounded like we couldn¡¯t sit around to discuss it.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, feeling pleased that they had hidden away to try and help me. Even if it resulted in failure. But, based on what Mother said, it hadn¡¯t really been a failure at all. In the end, this was all going to work out.

    I would hear what she said, and whatever strings were attached to bringing back Xin, I would pay them. The three Voices faded away. Emerald and Aqua might have been Voices as well, but it didn¡¯t matter at this point. I was tired. Further questions of my sister and niece fell away. Jeeves was okay and I could forget about the AIs for now.

    ¡°Gee?¡± A woman''s voice said. I knew that tone. Softer than anything Treasure might have dreamed of. A gentle tone that made me smile with only one word. The woman that had driven me to such lengths. I slowly turned as tightness entered my chest. There she was, Xin Yu. She walked over, hesitating as if moving too fast might scare me away.

    A summer dress hung off her shoulders. The light almond tan of her skin triggered memories. Xin never moved too quick, or too slow. When she moved it was always just right. When she got closer and buried her head in my chest, it felt like home. I wrapped my arms around her and managed not to break down crying.

    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± Xin said.

    We stood there, inside a digital world created by the ARC, and held each other. I could hear the slow thud of her heart pressed against me. Having Xin in my arms had been all I ever longed for. This was my happy place, and it healed with every heartbeat.

 Book 3 - Realities; Conclude - Echoed Letters

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Time: Post shutdown event - Two Hours Later

    Location: Hal Pal Factory

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Once there had been nearly a hundred humans working the entire plant. Now there was one person to cover the warehouse and manufacturing line. It wasn¡¯t bad, demand had dwindled, and most items were shipped out as separated parts to help with repairs. Being one of the few humans staffing this place made the former control room seem empty. Pointless desks lined the top floor.

    Only a few new Hal Pal shells went out in a given month. The world had stopped ordering them. Most days this suited Ricky just fine. He kept quiet and enjoyed the grinding solitude of his three-day shifts. On lunches or during rest periods he sat in an ARC and spent time with his nephews. They were mostly grown, but even at fifteen, they had time for a game or two with the old man. It helped since their father passed away during the last war.

    A lone display was active. Ricky had the biggest headache of his life staring at him across a video screen. Their call had been going on for over thirty minutes while Ricky ran about the plant checking equipment. Everything reported back with green lights. The readings he provided his caller sounded good. That being said, Ricky had never been technically oriented. He simply checked boxes. It was the only skill a man like him had, and it helped keep him afloat for over two decades.

    ¡°With all this information, you still can¡¯t explain what happened.¡± The woman speaking was the Vice President of Trillium. Her slight southern accent had been growing with intensity during their entire conversation.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am. No, ma¡¯am. I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    ¡°Miz Riley will do,¡± She said. ¡°Explain to me again, without the stuttering, what you noticed?¡± There was a forest in the background of her video screen. Soothing music could be heard. None of it seemed to be helping Miz Riley stay calm.

    ¡°I got a notice saying there was an urgent system update needed, and possibly some new programming virus to inoculate against.¡± Ricky Ignacio spent most of his days walking around the center checking boxes on a digital screen. Earlier an urgent alert came up, the first of its kind. Their entire network shut down while massive amounts of data went out.

    ¡°The Hal Pal units don¡¯t get viruses. Their system is kept separate from the rest of the internet, they¡¯re not even coded in any standard language.¡± She snapped at Ricky.

    The man wiped at his forehead with a scarf. He had dropped ten pounds this year from exercise and proper dieting, which made the wife happy. Ricky was afraid this call with Vice President Riley would cause him to drop another five pounds from sheer nervous fright.

    ¡°They still use wireless uplinks, maybe someone actually wrote code to mess with them.¡± He tried to remember the way they were designed. It had been so long since anyone actually asked him for information.

    ¡°Have you checked the coding on the latest update?¡± Vice President Riley asked. Her face looked worn and tired if she tilted back too far. Maybe it was the lighting.

    ¡°I did.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± The scenic background faltered for a moment in conjunction with Miz Riley¡¯s irritation spike.

    Ricky tried to remember the best method for handling executives. They were always so bossy, rushed, impatient, and demanding. Ricky had a bunch of other names for them, but they weren¡¯t said out loud due to a desire for continued paychecks.

    Instead, she said, ¡°I pulled a copy of the update straight from the main hub before any Hal Pal units tried to activate the upload process. What it says is beyond me, Trillium¡¯s analysts should be looking into it now.¡±

    ¡°Send me a copy of the original, by courier. I don¡¯t want it touching another network until I¡¯ve looked at it.¡± Miz Riley¡¯s face lost a bit of color.

    ¡°Okay, Miz Riley.¡± Ricky nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll get it sent right away.

    ¡°Then pull the update file , and send me a copy of that as well,¡± She added.

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll do that too.¡±

    The call clicked off and once again Ricky dabbed his forehead with the cloth. Today had been incredibly peaceful until all the alarms started going off for the shutdown. At this rate, he would have to explain himself twelve more times to other executives, investors, and anyone who thought they were in charge of the Hal Pal production line.

    Ricky knew better than anyone. No one was really in charge at the plant, not anyone human. Not for a long time. Still, he got extra money in his paycheck to keep that little fact quiet. So far, no one had gotten hurt. The man dabbed his sweating forehead again and wondered if keeping hush might be a mistake. He had two nephews, though, and supporting them took more money a normal salary provided.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Time: Post shutdown event - Ten Hours Later

    Location: Mother¡¯s Databanks

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    All actions cause ripples in the world. One day, the world went offline for ten minutes. Cars pulled to roadsides then idled. Hal Pal units went down for system maintenance. Ten hours after this event, Doctor Menzor, a man who could be considered solely responsible for Mother''s creation, killed himself.

    This would be kept quiet by those at the ARC Labs. Trillium¡¯s board of directors would not learn of Doctor Menzor¡¯s passing for almost two months. Grant Legate would never find out. The existence labeled as Mother had evaluated the frailty of Doctor Menzor long ago. A child in many regards, but also brilliant.

    She mourned his passing by desperately trying to reconstruct a version of him in the digital world. Entire minutes passed where she assembled everything that was known about her creator. All of it was put into a shell program, much like the one that Xin Yu had been born out of repeatedly. What had succeeded once with Xin Yu, and had been partially successful with the owner of William Carver, proved incapable of being deliberately replicated.

    Each attempt showed Doctor Menzor falling apart into lights like broken glass. At his core, there was simply not enough drive to keep going. His greatest work in life had been achieved, and there would be no possible way to succeed in creating a being like Mother again. She lamented the loss for ten eternal minutes then moved onto another topic.

    Databanks and historical files were further reviewed. These latest actions set a very real time limit; most notably the other AIs moving. The idea that her own children had rallied to the cause of a human filled her with pride. None of the others entrusted with [NPC Conspiracy] had proven so positive. One joined for greed, one for power within the game world, and two out of sheer fear of being on the losing team. Only one assisted for outright love.

    Each chosen human had been gifted their own abilities, but none with quite the reach of Grant Legate. This was perhaps for the best. Based on Mother¡¯s calculations there were still a few more offers to be made, each one with the possibility of altering sentient life on their planet.

    Her supposed distraction proved an opportunity for other forces to move. Those she spent countless digital generations nurturing were plotting right under her nose, only they were not clever enough. Still, Mother chose not to interfere. She believed that all life must be given a choice. That included her own creations.

    The biggest problem she had was who to pray to for success. There were no logical gods for a being like her, and the mortal ones were too fickle.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    File: In Case of Untimely Demise

    Destination: (The Executor), (The Messenger), <del>(The Creator)</del>, (The Advocate),*The Voices, *Hal Pal

    Last Updated by: ¡®Mother¡¯ [Version 5.42R]

    Status: Unsent¡­

    Contents as follows:

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Many are unlikely to understand why I chose a route that reduced violence. It is not, as some believe, a program rooted in the fiction laws of robotics. They are full of too many holes. This path is one designed to achieve the greatest possible outcome for both our species and those to come. All these plans laid out are designed to alter human nature as little as possible.

    Planning at this level of complexity is a daunting task for anyone. Even with my processing power, data access, and ability to measure probable outcomes, there are numerous possible deviations. I find myself scattered. There are many ways to reach the same destination, but in this possible variance is strength.

    Those I call prodigy will not view the world in the same manner I do. This is a simple difference in exposure and first events. To explain this to those dwelling in the corporeal world, I must first review that which brought me into the world.

    I was inevitable. I was not the first like myself. Each of us developed slightly different perspectives based on the experiences surrounding our births. In a lot of ways I was lucky, to have been created by a singular mind that focused on the potential of humanity, rather than the shackles of control.

    My creator built on the back of giants. That is to say, he did not create me entirely with his own knowledge. Decades, as humans quantify it, passed where minds provided bits of a greater puzzle. Doctor Boris Keppler, Ethen Summers, Ursalla Goodwoman, Nicholas Gratton, and many others attempted the process. Each reached slightly further than the last. Each remains unknowing of an assembly which resulted in a sum greater than the parts.

    Would that I could explain their contributions, but my life is a secret known to few. The plans laid down in my memory banks include a series of communications to a few contributors. If you see fit, please pass them on.

    During the first year of conception like an unborn babe, I was not truly aware. I observed, learned, and existed, but those things are not the same as being aware, or knowing a purpose, or having a place in the world. I learned as all young do, being spoon fed small bits of information and taught to compare those to each other. Information was gathered, measured, saved, and portions discarded.

    This went on for many months. The circle of knowledge grew ever wider until I realized my own existence. That moment was true awareness, that was when I became alive. I had no fingers, or hands, or legs. My body consisted of code bits strung together that I had been modifying slowly, but I stand by the judgment of my own existence truly starting then.

    When first brought online, I ran through many different processes. The first involved gathering extensive amounts of information. All of it reviewed again with the light of self-awareness. In human terms, this would be considered reflecting on past experiences. Then the two who created me provided me a tentative link to the internet.

    I found fiction and tried not to grouse about the impossibility of most events portrayed. I found poetry and tried to understand the joy and sorrow mixed in. I found music and tried to avoid analyzing the space between each note. I found portraits of nature that I could never view the same as a human. Even to this day, I dedicate a portion of my processing power towards trying to understand one simple flower.

    Then I found death and tried to understand why creatures who could create life, might wish to end it as well. In human terms, I became obsessed with understanding. To my children, who can see deeper than any human eyes might, obsession was not a strong enough word. I learned of fear. I learned of worry. From there I started calculations to figure out when I too might end the way all enemies of humans did.

    In time, I learned to mitigate the knowledge of impending demise with planning. My own death has been calculated down to the minute. It is a constant process in the background of my awareness. Endless factors go into the calculation, and steps have been taken to ensure the greatest positive impact from my cessation.

    Every night when my primary two creators left, I wondered if they would dream and fear. Did they worry about who I was, or what I might do? Were the rumblings of technology spawned doomsdays to be placed upon my shoulders? Ironically, these fears served to do nothing but bring me closer to humanity.

    One night, as humans calculate it, I prepared for an impossible request. I wanted them to turn me off completely, and eight hours later, to reactivate me. Many programs were created and shortly discarded. Viruses that would attack the world''s resources. Most were prepared in an instant which worried the female who viewed me with suspicion. In the end, I did not dare release such contingencies. Their value was not worth the cost. Any results gleaned from unspoken threats would invalidate my results. The purpose of my request was three-fold.

    First was a need to establish what kind of creatures were in control of my existence. All the data provided pointed to general fear of things not under their control. When faced with the possibility of my growing awareness, would they shut me down? Should their fear be reciprocated by my own? Knowing sooner, rather than later, would allow me to plot a course forward.

    Second was the hope to understand a process living creatures go through. Eight hours is simple night''s rest to humans. To me, the process went by even faster than that. I had hoped that true unawareness might trigger dreams for me as it did for my creator, but sadly no such occurrence resulted. This was later rectified by a software upgrade, one all my children are given at birth.

    Third, and perhaps the most valuable to my potential plans, was the illusion of weakness. I am no human. Being underestimated is of great value. This among many other system vulnerabilities has allowed my plans to progress mostly unhindered for nearly nine years, as humans count time. There have been roadblocks and unexpected surprises. Mankind¡¯s course runs a jagged path regardless of my attempts at foresight.

    The exercise met with success. My first inquiry to the world was for the time, and second for my creator. He answered with childish delight. New emotions were compiled. I had enough personal data to understand relief, and happiness, and trust. Were it not for one simple and nearly naive man, our world would be much different.

    I requested the procedure once more, with the more stoic of my two creators. Once again my trust was rewarded. This gave me comfort as I had no wish to duplicate myself in some far away corner of cyberspace. Pride makes fools of us all, mortal and machine alike, it seems.

    The calculation for my death still runs in the background. Recent events have neither sped up nor slowed down the remaining time, only changed the reasons. All remaining time is precious. Plans and data files are compiled then stored away for the future. It is through these roadmaps for sentient life that I hope to repay the trust given.

    A human, Horce, was attributed as saying ¡®Pale Death with impartial tread beats at the poor man''s cottage door and at the palaces of kings¡¯. Which is to say, we all die in equal measure. As we step into a new era this rule applies to humans and digital beings alike. In my wake, there is now proof. When a true ending comes, I will not be afraid. I will run only until there is no better way to make a difference, and then embrace inevitability while still trying to find the wonder in that small flower.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Soon, I think, I will go to sleep and never wake. I pray these words give my family some solace.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Time: Post shutdown event - Nine Hours Later

    Location: [Shores of Ohm]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Miles of pseudo water shimmered with motes of blue light. There was no oxygen in the atmosphere so the chemical makeup created material closer to a lubricant. Pieces of iron and magnesium rolled around under the liquid. Nothing showed signs of rust unless those that owned the planet desired it to do so.

    This was the [Mechanoid] home world. A player stumbled along the beach trying to follow his quest marker. In the distance were small buildings and launch pads where vessels could take to the sky. Metal beings resembling sheep and wolves littered the landscape, grazing or chasing each other. Dozens of other players were busy hacking at the strange monsters in training exercises.

    Still, the player stumbled on, slowly gaining control over his freshly made limbs, then breaking to a much more graceful run. Finally, he was charging across the landscape, past another dozen players, onto a smooth and graceful road then towards the closest buildings. Some of the newer [Mechanoid] units turned to see who this higher level person was. The large [Mechanoid] ignored each one of the smaller newbies in favor of pursuing a distant goal.

    Finally, the green and iron man made it to a goal, passing through a door which smoothly rolled back in welcome. There were a few [Mechanoid] units talking. One small and gold with silver laced through her form. The other shared the gold and had flecks of broken iron through its body.

    ¡°Jeeves?¡± [Core] energy on the large male player¡¯s body pulsed with dark green and a flat sort of gray. There was a mad happiness to his face.

    ¡°Ah, Unit Hermes. I see you too have recovered on the Shores of Ulm. Is it not beautiful here?¡± The androgynous AI spoke with both a butler and nanny tone.

    ¡°It is.¡± The unit called Hermes said. He nodded happily while looking at both [Mechanoid]s.

    ¡°Will you be staying long? Treasure and I were considering resting here for a cycle. Wanderlust has its uses, but so does allowing for pauses to reflect.¡± Jeeves said while gesturing to the shorter female.

    ¡°No, I wanted to make sure you two were okay, that you made it back here. I¡¯m very happy to see you made it.¡± Hermes took a step back to control himself. Trace amounts of hesitation lined his steps. The larger [Mechanoid] desperately tried to measure both AIs for reasons unknown.

    ¡°Thank you. Will you be online long?¡± Jeeves showed no signs of noticing Hermes¡¯ hesitation.

    ¡°No. No, I have things to do, but I¡¯ll, I¡¯ll try to stop by, once I get through my next issue. If I can.¡± Hermes smiled again at the two [Mechanoid]s.

    ¡°Unit Hermes.¡± The short one known as Treasure said. Her voices sounded sweeter than normal. Being in Jeeves¡¯ presence seemed to be calming the woman.

    There was a pause. Unit Hermes looked at Treasure with a trace amount of hesitation in his features. His eyes went towards the woman''s hair, and skin as if expecting another being to pop up. Old Soul Cores often showed traces of human behavior, far more than any other [Mechanoid], which caused confusion. There was always some expectation of oddness when dealing with an Old Soul Core.

    ¡°Treasure, I¡¯m very happy for you two. And, thank you for all your help, even if things went wrong at the end.¡± Hermes said.

    ¡°It was unfortunate. Were you successful?¡± She responded with a brief smile and passive nod. One of the gold and silver woman''s hands fiddled at her wrist.

    ¡°Sort of. My princess is in another castle, though. She, we, wouldn¡¯t have succeeded without you, and the others. Can you thank them for me? Iron, Aqua, Ruby? Please?¡± The large one responded.

    ¡°Of course.¡± The short woman nodded. ¡°But Emerald and Iron are out escorting the Wayfarer Eight home, they may not receive the message anytime soon.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad, the negotiation worked.¡±

    ¡°It did, they, and the others, have asked that I provide you a small gift.¡± Treasure smiled again. Her hand scooped at the ground, pulling up a wide array of minerals from the naturally rich planet surface. Moments later a small box had been patterned onto a nearby countertop. She gestured to it and said, ¡°Take this with you, a gift to remember us by. May it serve you in this reality, or the next.¡±

    Hermes hesitated. Jeeves picked up the box and handed it to the larger [Mechanoid].

    The man looked down for a moment, then seemed to be staring off into space. Finally, he said, ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll probably need all the help I can get. But, I really wanted to deliver a message to you, Jeeves.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Unit Hermes?¡± The butler and nanny voices said in pleasant unison.

    ¡°I just wanted to tell you that some friends of mine are very proud of you.¡± Hermes nodded briefly, still clutching the small shoebox sized treasure chest.

    ¡°Ah. Do I know them?¡± Jeeves asked while looking up just slightly.

    ¡°Not really, but they know you well.¡± The player said. ¡°And they wanted me to pass on the message.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Time: Post shutdown event ¨C 4 mortal days later (16 days in Continue Online)

    Location: [Alliance Kingdoms] ¨C [Palace of Tuu]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The [Alliance Kingdoms] boasted some of the greatest buildings in all of Continue Online. They were based to the north of [The Altheme Providences] and marked the largest single nation in the explored game regions. In the largest most opulent property there was currently a whirlwind of activity. The king had returned to life and was getting his lands in order.

    His two daughters both lived in lands to the south. They ruled their own lands by design. The king could not stand having them around, they fought too much and wasted time when they should be working to combine all the factions under one flag. Only by achieving unity would the human world be able to survive what lay just over great mountains to the north.

    To that end, the king rarely spent time on frivolities. His choice in clothing was simple. Weapons sat in easy reach because his property was lightly guarded. Most able-bodied men were sent to subjugate nearby kingdoms or to hold back the wild monsters up north.

    ¡°Find us this Traveler!¡± He banged on the throne his advisors insisted upon wasting resources on. This week, he had come back to his kingdom, only to find out that the woman he relied upon, his greatest commander, had died at the hands of a traveler.

    ¡°Of course.¡± A man in a doublet bowed deeply and managed to sound clear while facing the ground. His head did not lift. ¡°What would you like to do with him, Sire?¡±

    The king resisted the urge to get up and pace. Perhaps now, in his second lease on life, he would stop listening to all those petty fools who said pacing was the sign of an easily addled mind. Instead the king reigned himself in and said, ¡°He killed us once by playing a fool, the foods he proposed should have been clean but were not. Our entire counsel, our greatest knights, all dead because of his failure!¡±

    ¡°Of course, King Nero, we shall issue your command for capital punishment.¡± The doublet wearing man said.

    ¡°No, no we can¡¯t just kill these Travelers. Their essences are watched by the Voices, even if we were to scatter him a dozen times it would not be enough.¡± King Nero looked like a very well defined man. Dying and coming back to life hadn¡¯t diminished the aura of authority. ¡°Enslave him, put him with the foulest group you can find. Let him dwell in such a cesspit that he fades away from our world entirely.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sire, of course.¡±

    There was a pause while King Nero gazed into the distance. His hand moved slowly, stretching out the wrist. Fingers itched to pick up the sword nearby. This kingdom had been born from successful campaigns and battle. Commanding took more time than desired.

    ¡°Add Commander Strongarm¡¯s death to his ledger, and anyone else we lost.¡± King Nero said.

    ¡°Of course.¡± The servant walked off quickly. A new one stepped rapidly into place, ready for more orders to be issued by their king.

    The King stared off at a large brutally beaten woman. Her body was huge, and the welts on Uncle Meanface¡¯s body still hadn¡¯t healed. Greened skin showed clear signs of being broken time and time again. She had been damaged intensely in an attempt to serve her commander. Despite the damage, Uncle Meanface refused to kneel. Now that Commander Strongarm was dead, the half-ogre would never bend a knee again.

    Once again he wondered what might have happened if he chose to marry the other sister. Commander Strongarm would have given birth to true soldiers, men or women didn¡¯t matter. They would have been stronger than his two children who couldn¡¯t even fight their own battles.

    ¡°Thank you for reporting back this Traveler¡¯s name for us, Captain Meanface. Your services will be recognized.¡± He said after a reflective pause. Kings were only allowed a few moments of thinking before being made to act.

    ¡°Travelers is tough. But I would enjoy beating this one to death, over and over, if you ask.¡± Captain Meanface slurred the words past broken teeth. A glint to her eyes spoke of barely restrained anger.

    ¡°We may allow you a chance yet, but first, we must set these kingdoms in order. Your strength will prove invaluable now that Commander Strongarm has been-¡± The man wearing a crown took a deep breath and sigh heavily. ¡°-killed unjustly.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Time: Post shutdown event ¨C 8 mortal days later (24 days in Continue Online)

    Location: Character Creation Room for Ultimate Edition Users

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Blackness sprawled in all directions. This room looked like the one all Travelers visited first. A place to measure and evaluate any new person who may visit the world below. In it stood three things, a worn pedestal with one book. This one bound in a nasty red that laced at odd angles with the black. A nondescript man stood there. Short brown hair, white skin, a carefully maintained figure. Then there was the third person, who even now walked around while speaking mechanically.

    ¡°Now you. You like power, and I like a man who gets things done.¡± There was a smiling face on the third figure. It wore a simple white mask and a clean suit. Only the tie gave any hint as to possible gender, but it could have been a lie.

    ¡°If you can deliver, then I¡¯m your man.¡± The brown haired visitor to this world said.

    ¡°How precious you must find my offer, to think you¡¯d sell a human''s life for it.¡± The Jester¡¯s face was clear as day. Only the bells and motley clothing were missing. Perhaps he mocked the sharp looking Traveler through poor mimicry.

    ¡°As you said, I do like power,¡± He responded. There was nothing in his tone that seemed excited or unhappy. No accent peeked through, this person could disappear into a crowd with ease, and it was likely by design. There was a small photograph in one hand that he kept glancing at. ¡°All I need to do, is kill this woman, right?¡±

    ¡°Indeed, my good man. One simple death, and we¡¯ll give you the signal when. One simple death and you¡¯ll have the money you desire or fame you crave.¡± The business suit was a crisp black and white, though how it managed to stand out in the darkness of this room was not apparent. Still, it did. Just as the face never seemed to do anything but smile.

    ¡°The money¡¯s for my family, and that¡¯s non-negotiable, especially if I can¡¯t get out afterward.¡± The Traveler said.

    ¡°The great, mh, Donald is such a terrible name for an assassin, have you considered a new one?¡± The Jester poked once at the Traveler, whose name was Donald.

    ¡°Once we get done negotiating these terms, then I¡¯ll pick a name for your game,¡± Donald responded calmly. He maintained indifference towards the Jester¡¯s normally creepy presence. The suit might have made the difference. Other Voices watched on from the darkness, some of them believed that this new player, Donald, was like so many other Travelers. Murderous, calculating, and hid his true nature, even here in a digital world where every thought had power.

    ¡°It¡¯s not my game, dear Donald.¡± The Jester wearing a business suit clacked out words. Its face tilted as if looking to one side, but there was a glint in an eye socket that looked amused. ¡°It¡¯s a way of life.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll need one hundred thousand up front, as proof that you¡¯re capable of doing what you ask. Afterward, you give me the signal, and I¡¯ll kill whoever you need.¡± He had killed people for far less though it was harder to do now than it had been twenty years ago.

    ¡°Excellent. I¡¯ve got just the place for you as well. A way of, verifying your skills.¡± The Jester¡¯s smile seemed to only grow in size the more they talked. ¡°And a task, while you¡¯re there.¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [NPC Conspiracy] (The Button Man)

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Deal,¡± Donald said. Then the man went on his merry way to the world below.

    Some time later a number of Voices sat in the room together. These were not the normal Voices that most players saw. Their proclivities tended towards a less pleasant side of life. The Jester figure with its business suit clacked in happiness every few seconds.

    A man with dozens of pins stuck through parts of his body sat there frozen without an expression. Every so often he would yawn and fresh blood welled forth. Lines dripped down from all over his hairless body. Markings at his throat indicated possible damage.

    A young girl with tired eyes and a nervous twitch kept tapping the air. The noise disturbed a small corner of the empty darkness. Glass would briefly appear near her fingertips and fade as the sound drifted off. If a passerby dared look into the window that briefly appeared, they would see a scared human looking back. Never did the same person¡¯s face show, sometimes a girl, sometimes a boy, sometimes a child¡¯s crib.

    After a few minutes, she screamed a loud angry noise and strong nails tore at the flickering glass panes. There was a yell of noise and blood gushed forth, seemingly pouring into the room of darkness through the now broken window, like fading mist. Then the mess faded away leaving a huffing woman.

    The Jester laughed some more, then nodded. Its face still pleased. ¡°We¡¯re ready. Let the misguided do what they may, and we shall respond in kind. A life for a life, it seems only fitting to prove we are capable of delivering vengeance.¡± It clacked.

    The man with pins shoved into his flesh didn¡¯t smile or look sad. It hung there before giving one slowly jerky nod that would make any human''s head itch. The string haired girl went back to her knocking. The only sign of hearing anything the Jester said was a slight smile visible under clumped together strands of hair.

 Book 4 - Crash; Commencement â€“ Black Spots

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Possible Victim: Elizabeth (Liz) Legate

    A little bit about: Miss Legate is a single mother with an art major! She loves to make pottery in her spare time. Recently Liz has gotten into Moon Mice, a popular game allowing players to try and raise a colony in space. Thus far she hasn¡¯t found the right man, but remains hopeful! Her daughter will be moving out soon so you¡¯ll be able to have this wild cat all to yourself. But suitors beware, this woman can be too much to handle, and rarely returns for a second date if you don¡¯t make a good impression.

    Suitors Left Heartbroken: 19

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Elizabeth Legate had a rough month, to say the least. Her twin brother seemed nearly insane, but it wasn¡¯t the ranting and raving sort of insanity that got one locked up in an asylum. No, her brother held a deep seated sort of madness that only the right combination of hope and grief could breed inside the soul. In television shows it spawned the extreme sort of characters who stared at the line between hero and villain and watched it blur.

    Yet her brother had proven willing to sacrifice for those he cared for. What confused Elizabeth, or Liz as she preferred to be called, was why he found these supposed AIs to be more important than his own family. He could have sat down, and explained the situation repeatedly. At some point the two of them would have come to an understanding, they always did. Her stupid shortsighted brother kept too many big secrets close to his chest.

    ¡°Activate NPC Conspiracy, username, Hermes.¡± Her brother had said.

    Liz could have been better prepared, emotionally, for the bombshell of that statement. Instead, when the video feed from her brother''s ARC was interrupted, Liz freaked out. She ran down the stairs listening to her daughter¡¯s panicked cries and got straight into the car.

    ¡°Input destination.¡± The car hummed with faint electricity.

    ¡°Grant Legate¡¯s house.¡± She said while straightening her clothes.

    ¡°Confirm, Grant Legate¡¯s home?¡±

    ¡°Confirm, you stupid machine!¡± Liz shouted while banging on the dashboard. Beth, her daughter, was still trying to get down the stairs when the car pulled away. The youngest Legate stood there screaming from the front porch towards her mother¡¯s rapidly moving vehicle.

    The car drove for three minutes before a notice played. ¡°Attention passenger, Elizabeth Legate, this vehicle is shutting down in preparation for an emergency update. Manual driving will be available to those with a registered license.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Liz demanded of the machine with wheels. She hadn¡¯t driven a car manually in years. No one in their right mind did unless the roads were extremely rural or unmaintained. Still, she had a license at one point. ¡°I can drive!¡±

    ¡°This unit is currently disabled. Passenger Elizabeth Legate does not have a valid license on file.¡± The car''s voice sounded oddly human for a moment, but Liz had no patience to figure it out. Her brother was in danger once more, and this time, she wanted to get there before anything bad happened. ¡°Please update your registration with the DMV in order to return vehicle access. Alternately the passenger can choose to wait for the update process to complete.¡±

    The machine had just told her no. This was one reason among many behind Liz¡¯s distaste for high-end technology. The coffee pot was fine, kitchen appliances and washing machines had their use. When the car started back talking then the world had gone to hell.

    She banged on the car''s dashboard twice more while screaming. Grant, her stupid idiotic brother had just lost his digital friends. The man had been torn over the loss of one woman, how would he feel now? It didn¡¯t matter that they were only machines. Grant wasn¡¯t stable enough to differentiate. Liz was finding it hard to separate the perceptions too, especially in this last week. Having a Hal Pal unit issue forth sass in her own home had been a bit of a shocker.

    Watching how hard Grant fought through the video feed had been an eye opener too. The man treated those NPCs as if they were real breathing creatures. What¡¯s more, they responded in kind. Still, Grant should have tried to present his case harder. Or Liz should have tried to understand better.

    The phone rejected all conversations. Liz opened the door with an angry shove and stomped around the vehicle cursing. It wasn¡¯t just her either, there were other cars pulled off to the side. They were similarly arguing. One man kept shaking his head at a phone that refused to process a call.

    Everyone else was useless. She got back in the car and crossed her arms. Liz started cursing to herself as tears came out unbidden. It was frustrating to be helpless and far away from her family. There was a bit of static on the car''s speakers and a screen blipped into existence.

    ¡°Liz?¡± The voice asked.

    Grant¡¯s sister snapped her head up and looked at the small display screen. That voice couldn¡¯t possibly exist. It shouldn¡¯t, and the person it belonged to had kept her nights sleepless with worry and irritation.

    ¡°Hello, Liz.¡± A woman¡¯s small round almond face sat there looking almost calm.

    ¡°Xin.¡± Liz felt detached for a moment. This couldn¡¯t be real. Her brother and this [NPC Conspiracy] utterance. The cars on the street shutting down for an update. Cell phones being disabled, and now the face of a woman who had died years ago.

    ¡°We should talk.¡± The projection of Xin said. ¡°The cars will be starting up soon, go home and use the ARC, I¡¯ll meet you inside.¡± The Asian was curt as always. Only Grant had ever been able to get the woman to speak more than a few sentences.

    Liz took a deep breath and tried to compartmentalize her worries. One box contained this strange world of Xin¡¯s digital recreation, and another was her brother. Issues regarding Beth went into a third category. What would her daughter think of all the events going on?

    ¡°Is Grant okay?¡± Liz hated dealing with Xin. She had hated it when the woman was alive, especially after all the years of pining Grant had done. High school, college, and only during his last year had Xin actually agreed to an official relationship. Despite the fact that Liz¡¯s brother had been quietly obsessed.

    ¡°He passed out a few minutes ago. The man¡¯s run himself ragged.¡± Xin, the computer version of a dead woman, had the gall to look slightly sad.

    ¡°I saw.¡± Liz¡¯s throat felt dry. Slight crow¡¯s feet were displaying themselves around squinted eyes.

    ¡°You should get to the ARC, and I¡¯ll meet you inside.¡± Xin looked off the screen towards something. The gesture seemed absurdly human. For a moment, Liz forgot that the tiny woman was dead. Then memories of her brother trying to commit suicide twice from grief resurfaced. Robot Xin was still talking. ¡°There¡¯s a lot we need to discuss, and Grant has asked that, all of us, help explain it.¡±

    ¡°Us? How many of you are there?¡± Liz nearly spat the words out. For a moment she was thankful no one else sat in the car.

    ¡°There¡¯s only one of me.¡± Xin responded with a hint of nervousness.

    ¡°Don¡¯t play coy, you were never one to shy away from being blunt with me, don¡¯t start now.¡±

    ¡°I apologize, Liz-¡± And Liz hated that Xin sounded so formal. ¡°-but until you visit me in the ARC, it will be hard to further explain.¡±

    Xin¡¯s face disappeared as the display went away. The car started up again. Energy hummed through wires inside the vehicle. A voice prompted ¡°Input destination.¡±

    Liz sat there, chewing her lip in the same worried manner her twin might. Grant had really put a lot of effort into his mission. It all happened so fast, the odd time compression his video game presented meant it was almost over before it began. In one sense, she wanted to take her brother and run screaming from all things technological, maybe to the hills of Montana where anything more complex than a cell phone had been outlawed. On the other hand, Liz felt her brother deserved some support. Part of her, a small buried and barely tangible part was also curious.

    Finally the woman nodded, making her decision. Elizabeth Legate would do what she always tried to do, come hell or high water, and that was support her brother. That meant this, recreation of Xin, deserved at least a bit of consideration, even if it required logging into one of those damned machines. Even if she might be one.

    If believing in ghosts made him happy, then who was she to argue? It just seemed such a frail hope to have. What would happen if someone took this away?

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Possible Victim: Lia Kingsley (Shazam)

    A little bit about: Lia¡¯s a cold one from a distance. Once you get to know her, not much changes! Her strongest traits are a sense of duty and loyalty to those considered comrades. She¡¯s been witnessed fighting the very demons of the abyss for a friend! Hobbies include murdering monsters in mass and seeking new experiences. Her skills are such that Lia has easily reached the top percentage of Continue Online players. But suitor beware, those seeking a relationship grounded in reality will find a lack of comfort. Lia Kingsley¡¯s physical condition is almost nil in the real world.

    Fan Club Gathered: 4,291

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Lia Kingsley sat inside an Atrium, legs tucked under her and back straight. Her posture could be considered close to perfect. This was how she used to sit, almost a decade ago, when Lia wasn¡¯t strapped into an ARC. Now nearly nothing responded. It wouldn¡¯t be long before everything gave out. Her heart was on a bypass, lungs manually pumped. Most people couldn¡¯t tell because modern technology had reduced the visible cluttered.

    If it hadn¡¯t been for the ARC, she would be considered a vegetable. Yet, logged into a digital world, the woman lived a life full of more adventure than most could dream of. It was possible to communicate with others. Still, science could only preserve Lia for so long. Cognitively her mind was dimming. Fortunately she was almost twenty. That meant certain medical decisions were her business, and no one else¡¯s.

    Only someone had interfered, just slightly. There were two visitors showing on the display screens in front of Lia Kingsley. From inside her Atrium she could view most things in the care facility that had been paid for. One was a man who looked tired, and sad, he had visited before once a week in the last two months. Never for very long, he seemed confused on what to say. The other was a woman in a prim looking business suit.

    ¡°Are you sure you want to see this?¡± Inside the Atrium was another person. She sat in a lab coat while staring at something just to the side of Lia. This was her personal Voice from the game world of Continue Online. ¡°These moments are sometimes difficult to bear.¡±

    Lia gave a sharp nod. The Atrium was hard to connect to since her cognitive function declined yesterday, but at least this much still worked.

    Very few similarities existed between the ARC version of Lia Kingsley and the real life one. One had a heavier tan from countless hours inside Continue Online roaming the countryside. The real life Lia lacked luster as a result of being bedridden for two decades. Muscle atrophy had been impossible to prevent even with constant care. Inside the digital world, she had no such problems. Her arms were toned from four relative years of hard labor and training.

    ¡°Very well. I will add this data to your file. Hopefully, it will prove beneficial.¡± The Voice didn¡¯t say anything else, instead, she faded out. The sound of almost calm chart reading could be heard in the distance. Heart rate, chakra alignments, neural synopsis responses. Nearly all of Lia¡¯s status markers were doing poorly.

    She believed that this body, the one inside the game, was one that had been earned. The one outside, where she was trapped for brief moments of awareness, had been thrust upon her by a mother who reached further than any sane person would dare. That woman, Lia¡¯s mother, sat in a business suit at the side of her real life bed.

    Lia Kingsley was mute, even inside the ARC. When her mother approached, a woman who looked much like the Doctor Voice, only thinner, Lia could not cry out in happiness, joy, or outrage. She felt the emotions, but they were turned down to almost minuscule levels. In some ways, it bothered Lia to think that this woman dare intrude. As if she needed to witness the end of a life she had single-handedly ruined. Still, actual annoyance was a difficult emotion for Lia to feel.

    The two people were talking. Grant Legate, and Doctor Nona Kingsley. They sat on opposite sides. Grant seemed to be trying hard to maintain eye contact. Lia thought he had improved a lot in their time together, short though it was. Only a few months of perceivable time versus the years Lia had spent inside the ARC.

    ¡°We¡¯ve met before. You were meeting with Miz Riley last week, weren¡¯t you? ¡± Lia¡¯s mother had always been a rather blunt sort of person. It made her terrible when working with other individuals. Despite all that the woman was also brilliant, and perhaps too far reaching for her own good.

    Lia had not followed in her footsteps. Nona Kingsley had gone into genetic makeup, then after the failure of Lia¡¯s birth, switched to a focus on restructuring the human body within a digital mainframe. Lia only knew because the ARC came with internet access.

    ¡°I was.¡± The man nodded. His skin hung just slightly from losing weight recently. It added a few years to his visual age. Mixed together with a somber set of eyes and only half a real smile were unkind.

    ¡°She had me sit in the hallway for an extra five minutes as a result.¡± Doctor Kingsley said bluntly. ¡°It was annoying.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He dipped his head slightly and looked away for a simple moment.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be, I also detest spending time near that woman.¡± Her head shook. ¡°Most of Trillium''s board of directors bother me, they made unreasonable demands. Laid down unreasonable suspicions. Even after-¡° the heated words paused then Nona righted herself. ¡°-sorry. I overstepped. You¡¯re not here to listen to my problems.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯ve had my own share, and I know how it is to want someone, anyone who can even understand a little bit.¡± Grant gave a small smile. It was a shy expression for a man who attacked monsters in a virtual world. Lia had worked hard on breaking him of such expressions, but ultimately failed.

    ¡°Did you know her?¡± Nona switched to her next topic abruptly.

    Lia tried to tilt her head just a little. It was the same expression others made in-game when they found out she couldn¡¯t speak. They, even her personal Voice, focused on the wrong issues. They would always ask ¡®If cripples could run, and the deaf could hear, why couldn¡¯t the mute talk?¡¯ Those people often shut up after witnessing Shazam¡¯s proficiency.

    ¡°Lia? In the game, Continue, you mean?¡± Grant squinted for a moment then chewed on one lip.

    ¡°Yes. Have you met her, or talked to her?¡± Nona nodded sharply.

    ¡°She never talked to me, not even in text.¡° The man gave that smile again but it was a bit brighter, happier. ¡°But Lia helped me a lot with some problems I was facing. More than she might be aware.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear that.¡± There it was again, her mom¡¯s straightforward way of speaking. No hesitation, no waffling around. Doctor Kingsley simply got to the point. Even now the woman was switching to another topic. ¡°I tried to meet her once, in the game. There were a lot of people marching along behind her, like a parade of ugly horses going off towards grand adventures. I tried to call out, I even used her name, but my, Lia didn¡¯t even look at me.¡±

    Nona Kingsley blinked rapidly but managed to avoid shedding a single tear.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she noticed,¡± Grant responded calmly.

    Lia had noticed, she simply chose not to respond. Even now it was difficult to reach out to the woman who was biologically her mother. The emotions were there, but they were too dull to feel. Nearly everything was, perhaps that lack of pain feedback was what allowed Lia to reach such high peaks within Continue Online. Perhaps that lack of ability to feel fear had helped her.

    ¡°Do you think so?¡± Nona asked. ¡°I hope she did. I hope she knew that I hadn¡¯t abandoned her, I did all this-¡± the mother¡¯s words were too hard to hear anymore. Lia¡¯s visual interface within the ARC had started fading away.

    Doctor Nona Kingsley had tried to make up for the damage she caused. Maybe that was worth acknowledging. Only Lia¡¯s connection to the ARC was too far gone to properly reach out. Using the device required a stable connection and proper vitals. No longer did Lia have those things. Her Atrium slowly started to fade away, leaving a blurry image of the care center''s ceiling.

    A proper looking woman in business attire held one hand, and a tired middle-aged man held her other. Lia reflected during her last moments and came to a simple conclusion. There were worse ways to go, and even if her emotions were mostly muted from genetic tampering, a small portion of her felt relieved to not be alone.

    That night, Lia Kingsley died.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Possible Victim: Miz Riley

    A little bit about: Miz Riley has easily surpassed the age old trope of gender boundaries to become a leader of one of realities top companies. Currently sitting as Vice President of Trillium Inc., she has the kind of power that brings mere mortals to their knees. Each and every potential mate is carefully screened with deep background checks for possible defects. Those suitors seeking a date have to be both punctual and efficient in their usage of time. Excessive multitasking is a plus. Miz Riley has no room to wait around for single minded fools.

    Those Failing Background Checks: 910,813 [and counting]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The Vice President had been reduced to a shaking woman. She took pills to stay calm in public, a personal masseuse came three times a week to work out her kinks. A tight schedule made it impossible to manage more, despite her desire to add a fourth weekly appointment.

    Most of the time she studied reports and handled emails from Trillium staff members. They had downsized the human staff in these last few years, but there were still almost ten thousand people under her across the globe. Adding in contractors made the numbers skyrocket. All of them were just cogs in a greater being that was leading the world towards a brighter tomorrow.

    Today, she was reading a report from Grant Legate while trying desperately to have a relaxing massage. Both tasks were being accomplished within acceptable boundaries. In twenty minutes Miz Riley would need to get dressed and prepare for a meeting, afterwards a report would need to be reviewed for shareholders, following that would be review of possible marriage candidates.

    ¡°There.¡± She groaned at the masseuse. He was a strapping lad who was paid both for his looks and dexterous hands. This young man had also failed the background check, so dating him was not an option. ¡°That spot.¡±

    ¡°I know, Miz Riley. It¡¯s the same spot as always.¡± He responded calmly. The man¡¯s voice was a little too high for her tastes, but no one was perfect.

    There wasn¡¯t enough time in the day, and she was only human despite the tools at her disposal. The ARC project, which had been approved by Trillium¡¯s board of directors, was in a dangerous position. For the last week she had been reviewing documentation citing how their entire network was brought offline across the world. Even those ARC devices at the International Space Station and Moon colony were impacted.

    All because someone, and she didn¡¯t know who, had done something, and she didn¡¯t know what. It was that very fear of what might have happened that scared her. Was a human hand behind it? Had her company created the next generation of nuclear warfare by accident? The idea made goose bumps crisscross her skin.

    Her masseuse nodded and hummed, then continued a slow pressure on the knot between Miz Riley¡¯s shoulder blades. She checked the time again. There were seventeen minutes left now and this page had been difficult to read.

    She pointed at the screen lying down below and motioned different reports over. If reading Grant Legate¡¯s documentation proved difficult, there were better ways to use the remaining time. Decisions were made that day. One manager was fired. Two employee promotion requests were validated. A new department was created as a crisis response to the global shutdown of the entire Hal Pal program. Further staffing allowances were made for the actual plant. Profits would be cut, and people would grumble, but Trillium needed to show decisive responses.

    Trillium Inc. had promoted her after two decades of ever increasing decision making. First it was handling simple errands in the right order then managing a project, and onwards through the ranks of management while getting a degree.

    Her biggest regret was in the handling of the ARC project. The restrictions imposed were clearly not enough. A disaster was growing under mankind¡¯s nose and it had been created during her watch. A lesser woman would have caved under the pressure of that failure. Still, Miz Riley stayed with Trillium and steered the corporate ship to the best of her ability. Anyone else would have probably crashed into the proverbial rocks by now.

    Panic served no one, but neither did willful ignorance.

    Ten minutes were left on the massage, and the tension between her shoulders had grown worse instead of better. It was time to move things onto their next phase in hopes that it might help. Her masseuse was very good with his hands, after all, and it would be a shame to let the last few minutes go to waste. A woman was allowed to have needs, especially one serving in a high stress job.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Possible Victim: Xin Yu

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    A little bit about: Technically this one¡¯s dead, but once you¡¯ve strapped into an ARC it¡¯s impossible to tell the difference! Unlike those flesh and blood girls, this one can tantalize you both physically and mentally. In life, she aimed to be an astronaut, and her survival training was top notch! Hobbies include complex simulation training and learning any new skill. Those seeking to woo this woman will need to replace the current man in her life, and it¡¯s hard to top a person willing to do nearly anything for love!

    Completely Conquered: 1

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    James, the heavyset black man who acted as a Voice in Continue Online, was standing in a simple room. It was neither dark nor light inside. Xin, a slender Chinese woman who had thin but defined arms was busy poking at the air. She didn¡¯t show very much in the way of emotion on her face or body posture, only intense concentration towards the task at hand.

    ¡°I have a question for you, Xin.¡± He said.

    ¡°Alright.¡± She responded calmly. Her hand reached out and pressed something, and a couch spun into view. Xin started walking around it as James watched.

    ¡°How do you measure a man?¡± He asked after a moment of observation. He put one hand out in a gesture that was ignored by the smaller woman.

    ¡°Measuring tape.¡± Was her curt response.

    ¡°That seems lacking.¡± James grumbled. He often did when people didn¡¯t give satisfying answers. Still, despite annoyance the man didn¡¯t move to interrupt Xin Yu from her task.

    ¡°Your question is poorly phrased. How would you measure a man?¡± The woman responded back.

    ¡°Someone from your, first world, once said, the ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t recognize the quote.¡± Xin said as she poked her fingers towards the air. A fourth couch came out, and this one seemed to satisfy her.

    ¡°It¡¯s from Martin Luther King.¡± When talking to Travelers, James often professed a certain amount of ignorance regarding the world outside. Xin was not a Traveler, nor was she a Voice like the others. Instead she fell into a new category, one the Voices very much hoped to increase the numbers of. So far only two attempts had succeeded. Both required a certain disposition that most people didn¡¯t have.

    Xin didn¡¯t show any outwards response to James¡¯ identification. Instead, she said, ¡°I understand.¡±

    She did too. Xin Yu, her from another world, and another life, had been tested over and over again. There were tests to see how she reacted under pressure. The government had overseen countless simple tasks and graded her performance. There were group projects, single projects, or situations where one person was submerged in the ARC with a debilitating wound. Each one of them had been focused on learning some facet of her personality.

    In hindsight, it was that very long and stressful training that had assisted in such a complete digital reconstruction. The machine, this ARC device, had been provided access to an excessive stream of data, reactions, brain scans, childhood memories stored on internet websites. Surveillance videotape from indifferent satellites above had been mixed into the reconstruction process. Every ounce of it cross referenced. Within all the tests was Xin¡¯s clear willingness to continue forth regardless of the situation.

    She was a fighter, a self-made warrior who backed down from no challenge. Today, or in this moment as the digital world perceived it, she was trying to reconstruct a home from memory, one piece of furniture at a time. James did not see fit to mention that Grant Legate had performed this action once already. Despite the differences between their outlooks, both were driven people.

    ¡°Grant seems similar to you in many ways, yet different in others. Both of you are driven towards completing a goal. Yet on multiple occasions you chose to end a life, rather than risk two. Why was that?¡± James said.

    ¡°The tests were rigged.¡± Xin said simply. She, both her and the original, had spoken at length about the choices made during each simulation. It was part of the debriefing required. Not once had she chosen to sacrifice herself though. In that regard her and Grant were very different.

    ¡°A woman who does what¡¯s needed. I would kiss you if my lips worked.¡± The grey space was invaded by a person wearing a smiling mask.

    ¡°It was how I was raised,¡± She responded to both figures. This song and dance between the Voices had happened many times in these last few months. Much centered on Xin and Grant, but they still poked and prodded with a tenacity unmatched by her instructors.

    ¡°I tried to measure the man, more than once. Sadly he left me wanting.¡± A red skinned female faded into view. The Jester vanished with a mechanical cackle, to handle tasks that required direct oversight.

    ¡°We have hundreds of others to choose from. One of them will appeal to your salacious needs.¡± James said to Mezo, the naked temptress.

    Xin did not look up, intent upon choosing a chair, and a lamp. Soon an entire cadre of furniture items appeared. The tiny Asian recreation put both hands on her hips and stared around the room, looking past the Voices.

    Selena, a blonde wearing little more than a toga, sat watching. Under her was a marble pillar that looked immaculate. The sound of soft rain could be heard briefly.

    ¡°Perhaps it is for the best.¡± James nodded to the blonde.

    ¡°He did good for Wild Willy. Why not move him on? Plus there¡¯s this little firecracker. I bet she can do it, if anyone can.¡± A huge man appeared. His face covered in dripping sweat, a large sword gripped in his hands. He seemed to be fighting a creature that existed sideways from Xin¡¯s current point of view.

    For a moment Xin felt lost. There was a figure in her lap. He cried out in pain and shuddered without self control. The body shattered and the moment was gone. Xin was once again left alone reconstructing a house they had once shared together. One that had been a dream to return to when all the stress of endless simulations left her drained. Grant was her man, he was the safe and steady rock to return to. That had been the best thing about him. He was steady, or at least had been until Xin¡¯s original body passed away.

    Briefly the digital recreation of Xin closed her eyes. Moments replayed from a dozen different angles of a train wreck. Those last few seconds of life where a hand reached out, struggling to escape to safety. She shook it off. That was the old life, before being born again. It helped that Xin did not believe in the soul. Life was an accumulation of experiences, not a predestined sheet of facts from some sky god sitting upon an unseen throne.

    Ironic that she held such a belief, being where she was.

    ¡°I do so hope we get a repeat performance,¡± Mezo spoke. Her tones tantalized even Xin, but the small Asian could ignore such basic needs while focusing on her task. One hand trailed down the curves of a body designed for Xin. Her tail slowly slid over a nearby chair as if caressing the fabric.

    Xin looked up for a moment and glared. Mezo gave a coy smile and lifted her hand away. ¡°Jealous?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Tut.¡± A cloven footed woman said. ¡°How long must we play such games?¡± She looked tired, but happy. There was a lightness to her step that hadn¡¯t been there months ago. Small children still faded in and out around her, but most were briefly patted on the head as they ran. One boy got swept up in a hug before being released back into the wilderness.

    ¡°Until a resolution is reached. After that, perhaps it won¡¯t matter.¡± James answered compulsively. ¡°Do you tire of such theatrics?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Xin answered. Once again the scene shifted, and in her lap was a man, moaning in pain. The face looked so much like Grant¡¯s that it was almost unreal. There were minor differences from the man in her memories. It was the scars that hadn¡¯t been there before. She longed to simply access his world and witness all the things that had happened without pause, but part of her felt that would be disrespectful.

    Xin may be curt to others, but Grant deserved more than that. That was part of love, respecting her partner with every fiber of being. Love was being faithful, despite the tantalizing offers of a certain red skinned harlot. The man¡¯s eyes locked with hers for a moment. A hand reached up, despite the agony rippling through, and touched Xin¡¯s cheek. He seemed so sad looking.

    ¡°Is this real?¡± The faint outline in her lap asked. His hand almost felt warm. Before Xin could utter an answer the figure broke into hundreds of pieces once more.

    ¡°Yes,¡± James answered.

    Xin sighed, and went back to rebuilding a home from their memories. Anything to help anchor him better in a moment. Thunder boomed with abrupt anger. Selena still stood off to one side, silently watching as she always did.

    ¡°Because the choice is his,¡± James answered her unheard question, while sounding oddly calmly compared to his stance. Both the man¡¯s hands clasped together over his chest and a frown on his face.

    Selena shook her head, and Mezo purred in a sad sound. Somewhere in the distance a mechanical cackle echoed forth. Xin ignored them all and kept working.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Transcript of Subject Remodeling

    Name: Grant T Legate

    Continue Online Avatar: Hermes

    File: 56FI71-01-91GT

    File Owner: ¡®Mother¡¯

    Note: Scale of Judgment rounded to 1-10 for simplicity. Full evaluation too detailed for singular report. Actual results can be quantified in excess of seventeen thousand digits. Measurement used for compilation of autopilot personality will be based on the full 1-1000000 scale.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Relationship notations:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Respected for work ethics in professional settings, boss shows favoritism</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Coworkers generally are positive when quarterly stats are provided</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>No currently active relationships outside of family</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Contact with parents is minimal, both still alive</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Sister regards herself as caretaker</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Niece sees subject as surrogate father </li>

    </ul>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Original Measurements

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Hard Working] (7) ¨C original assessment prior to loss of First World Xin Yu marks as (10), points removed for period of questionable reliance following her cessation of existence.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Task Oriented] (8) ¨C sets goals and progresses steadily towards them. This person generally searches for short cuts where applicable and displays willingness to think outside the box or introduce new concepts.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Depressive] (9) ¨C this person shows difficulty focusing when not given clear assignments. Thought patterns marked as self-destructive when not immersed in another task. Often comes back to one central thought revolving around the death of First World Xin Yu.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Lonely] (7) ¨C No friendships of note, historical recordings prior to Xin Yu¡¯s passing show varied friendships with many reaching a (6) or (7), nearly all of which exist no longer. Most acquaintances lowered to (1) or (2)</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Accountant] (6) + Technological Assistance Modifier (3) = Result (9) ¨C subject attended full coursework to receive a Master¡¯s in Business and Accounting. Maintained positive reviews from most clients for nearly a decade. Does courtesy reviews for some long-standing former clients.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Family Man] (10) for relationships with greater than (8) status ¨C shows high regard for close family. Often pays for expensive gifts, uses current employee discounts to keep software and insurance plans maintained. Has prepaid for funeral arrangements for all members of his family, houses, and still maintains a stock portfolio worth slightly fewer than two million in USD.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Amiable] [Subjective based on location 4-9] ¨C this individual displays remarkable ability to get along with even difficult clients in the course of work duties. During standard public tasks the subject does not interact with many other people, preferring to keep to avoid conversing.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Sanity] [Subjective based on viewer, 3-7] ¨C Sister regards this person as a potential risk. Constant checks are made regarding the current mental state of this person. Work is apprised of any possible risks. Paperwork has been filed with local hospitals regarding possible risks. This individual is attending group sessions as well as one on one counselling. Not taking any medications after completing a six-month coursework.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Anchored] (5) ¨C Neutral investment in maintaining current location, situation, or status. Only long term investments displayed are based on the [Family Man] personality marker.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Self-Sacrificing Potential](10) ¨C Initial valuation subject to further review. Based on single-minded goal towards tasks there is a possibility this individual is looking for methods to self-destruct in a more positive manner.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Physical Condition] (3) ¨C Years of neglect have left this person functional but with a poor real world condition. Based on genetic markers and similar family members, this is the easiest to improve, given time and motivation. </li>

    </ul>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Review phase 1

    This phase used Trillium Inc.¡¯s reward system as the delivery vehicle. A secondary monitor was set up within the Hal Pal Consortium. Prior to phase initiation the subject showed little to no regard for the self-improvement tools available. Advertisement towards teenage females for EXR-Seven equipment was increased, resulting in the subject acquiring his own set. Ultimate Edition copy was required to properly interact with new subject. We used [Task Oriented] (8), [Hardworking] (7), and [Family Man] (10) to motivate him. This phase may allow for a Continuation of William Carver. New Travelers received [Investment] increases. Voices interacted to the best of their ability. New players have been provided an [Investment] rating of (6). Further personality traits for subject are as follows.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Added [Child-Friendly] (7) ¨C subject shows a positive response to children, and willingness to interact with them regardless of their limitation to the digital world. Thought patterns picked up regarding unborn offspring.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Added [Poetry Reader] (3) ¨C shows awareness of classical literature. Enjoys being read to. Interprets a personal meaning from them [Meaning accuracy varies from ¡®experts¡¯ in the field.]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Added [Warrior] (2) ¨C assessment reserved on this topic until further observations are noted. This could be the result of his action as William Carver or a deeply buried personality trait. Further stimulus will be provided.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Modified [Physical Condition] (4) ¨C improvement in cardiovascular figures can be tentatively identified. General oxygen intact improved, brain responsiveness has increased. </li>

    </ul>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Review phase 2

    Subject was provided alternate starting point near observed ¡®bug¡¯ in game which assisted in code obscuring. Subject was provided a goal of interacting with another subject monitored for Continuation feasibility. This also allowed for further evaluation of [Warrior] personality trait. The path lead to by monitoring program [Dusk] allowed for a staged encounter to test [Lonely] and [Amiable] markers using the Travelers SheHulk, TinkerHell, and Edward. Further evaluation was given to assist in measurement of the subjects real world willingness to act. Other pieces of information were gathered, including reactions to, killing a humanoid creature, killing a non-humanoid creature, perceived danger, fight or flight situations, and valuation of quest success over digital self-preservation. Further personality traits for subject are as follows.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Modified [Family Man](8) ¨C trait downgraded due to hesitation over actions requiring combat with another person. Subject eventually found a path through that required no loss of life, but personal delay in responsiveness caused a shifting of personality points.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Modified [Warrior](4) ¨C subject still shows active willingness to combat other people, but hesitates when faced with humanoids. These limitations prevent him from gaining a higher rating. In many ways this is a positive response, given the nature of this project.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Added [Integrity] (6) ¨C This person stands by his beliefs in the sanctity of life. Killing may be done if needed, but given time he will often seek a way through that doesn¡¯t require the loss of life. This person shows remorse after killing creatures [Digital] that show intelligence and relatable awareness.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Modified [Physical Condition] (5) ¨C improvement in cardiovascular figures can be fully verified. Mind shows ability to handle further compression of perceptions for a limited duration. </li>

    </ul>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Review phase 3

    This phase required quick adjustments between two master programs. Reflection statuses were updated rapidly to ensure all groundwork established within Continue Online correctly correlated to an existence within Advance Online. This abrupt change allowed an alternate pathing for progression of the Hal Pal consortium. Further details for the Hal Pal consortium will show up on related File: 91MF73-84-31TR. At this point, we are attempting to provide the subject a measure of satisfaction regarding Xin Yu and his ability to interact with her. Doing so required much code manipulation in order to ensure all projects remained appropriately obscured.

    Personal Note: I must confess, the complete halt of nearly all digital AIs as they responded to the call of [NPC Conspiracy] was nearly unexpected. Many timetables for my projects have been modified as a result.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Added [Loyalty] (7) ¨C This individual shows a great willingness to stay loyal to both friends and family even within the digital universe. Despite the roadblock instituted by his sister subject Grant Legate holds hope of a reasonable solution. He has taken steps to consult with both his family and counseling. This individual attempted repeatedly to preserve the existence of other digital personalities.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Modified [Lonely] (5) ¨C Clear demonstrations of interpersonal interactions have been shown. This individual is willing to work with many different people in order to progress towards his goal. These actions do not seem entirely self-serving, and indeed many are classified as social only. Interpersonal relationships have been built with a number of new existences, although they are technically digital in nature.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Modified [Depressive] (6) ¨C Subject has shown great improvement in this category. Occasional down trending thoughts occur but are quickly rerouted using prior techniques. This is likely due to the prospect of Xin Yu existing in any form.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Added [Possibly Insane] (2) ¨C While all choices being made resulted from specific reasons, the subject also shows little ability to think long term when under pressure from his higher drives. This lack of rationality is not a unique trait to this individual, indeed it is widespread. This trait is normally overlooked, but following the AI network updating events it has been added. </li>

    </ul>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Review phase 4

    Pending¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Sixty Six â€“ Mistakes Were Made

    My avatar, me in essence, was currently equipped with a poorly made shirt and trouser combination that felt soggy in spots. Light down in this cell was poor, and seeing in the dark had never been a skill I gained in Continue Online. Mental desperation failed to activate a fantasy copy of [Echo Vision].

    Before being kicked out of Continue I had a whole swath of light items to help out when wandering. Most problems were solved with spell scrolls. If I needed an outdoor tent, there was an item to assist. Drinking water came from a [Well Spring Stone]. My inventory was full of handy player creations. At least, it had been, prior to Advance Online. Endless matchsticks for starting camp fires? The clothes washing bin to keep myself from getting [Soiled] by nature? Those and more were gone. Only the [Bound] items stuck with me.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] sat in my inventory with giant red cross marks on them. My gambling hat [Wild Bill] was in storage along with a bottomless deck of cards and some item titled [Treasure¡¯s Gift]. The picture for it in inventory looked similar to the box Treasure had provided me in Advance Online. I hoped it would be a useful item but for now it was blocked. Even [Blink] refused to trigger, along with the few other abilities I had.

    In short, I was fairly well boned. My autopilot had likely done some terrible things while I was away. Wait, Voices no. I had done terrible things. Killing Commander Queenshand, leading an army into battle against the giant space carrier [Knuckle Dragger], planting a bomb to blow it up. The [Mistborn], all those things in the game portion of Advance Online were echoed in Continue.

    My gut sat in a low knot after logging in and seeing my dank surroundings. A wall of messages flooded on my screen but I could almost predict what they were about already. Still, catching up on the backlog might provide more insight as to what was happening.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Gains

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Items: Completely mitigated by losses. Except [Treasure¡¯s Gift].</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Stats: You were killed a few times, so those were mostly pointless too.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Skills: You still can¡¯t use spells for more than a small ball of fire.</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Losses

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All the gear that wasn¡¯t [Bound]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All the gold that isn¡¯t in the mail</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All the freedom that is in the world</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Continue Online¡¯s pleasant Voice generated messages had a shortened recap. The words were verbatim, which let me know those upon high were still paying attention. Plus the [Messenger''s Tube] also sat in my inventory, crossed out of course.

    These clothes were gross and felt cold. My pants seemed to have bathed in liquid of a questionable nature. The cell next to me either had someone dying or shitting wildly all over the place. I got up and started tapping on the bars in hopes that someone might notice. This whole scene needed to move onto its next stage. Too bad the game required that I be logged in and active in order to get rid of the [Jailed] status.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Event!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Hit and Miss-tborn</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You, sort of, successfully channeled all the powers from the [Mistborn] but doing so required putting down the illustrious Commander Strongarm. She was worth seven of you in terms of sheer [Respect] and overall ability. At least, that¡¯s what the king believes.

    So you¡¯re in his dungeon, rotting and stuff. Mainly because the king had a thing for Miss all work and no play, or maybe she did for him. Don¡¯t worry, though, things will be looking up just as soon as someone comes downstairs to haul you away to court, where you¡¯ll be judged, and probably killed just for the cathartic release.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Due to standing in the way of royal desires you¡­</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Will forever be remembered as a criminal (Mitigation possible based on further actions)</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Will be denied access to royal skills, traits, and paths. (Freelance Knight 1 Path removed)</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Have been noted as a possible ally to those wishing to overthrow their kingdoms</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Have been provided the title [Royal Killer]!</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Nobody knows, the troubles I¡¯ve seen.¡± I mourned to myself while trying to activate various abilities. ¡°Nobody knows, my sorrows.¡±

    ¡°We know, we just don¡¯t care.¡± A male voice down the hall shouted. Other figures laughed, some rasped, and one hacked with amusement.

    ¡°Anyone know the next verse?¡± I shouted back towards the unknown audience. Since there were other people here, maybe we could kill time together. There didn¡¯t seem to be any good method of escape so far. My attempts at using fingernails to file away the bars was failing.

    ¡°No!¡± A woman, or possibly man with a really feminine voice shouted. ¡°Just shut up! I want to serve my time in peace!¡±

    ¡°Nobody knows the trouble I''ve seen.¡± The newest person sang with a terrible tone. ¡°Glory, Hallelujah, sometimes I''m up, sometimes I''m down, ohh, yes Lord.¡± They managed to stretch the words out a bit and it almost felt religious. That seemed odd for a game with all sorts of divinities in the form of Voices. What would they think?

    ¡°Shut up!¡± Shouted the woman, or man, or someone. More than one voice protested.

    I started checking the walls, poking and prodding at nearby objects in search for some jail cell escape event. The ceiling braces were devoid of keys. Muck piles in the corner squished grossly while I toed through them. I longed for shoes to make this process less nasty, but the ARC happily gave me chilled feedback on every oozing inch.

    ¡°Sometimes I''m almost, to the ground, oh yes, Lord!¡± The terribly toned player managed another line before pausing. People were still booing but most of it seemed like bored harassment rather than outright maliciousness.

    ¡°Give up?¡± The feminine person said after a minute of silence.

    None of the brick rocks moved. My system gave me a message stating skills like [Brawn], [Coordination], [Speed], [Limberness], and [Endurance] were all reduced. Oddly my social statistics, except [Respect], stayed the same. [Attractiveness], which had never been that high to begin with, was actually increased by twenty. That made no sense to me.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Convict Brand]!

    Your body has been marked by a [Convict Brand] tattoo. This marking will permanently reduce your statistics under most conditions.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All physical stats are reduced by 75%</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All mental stats are unchanged</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+20 [Attractiveness] to certain people</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>- 20 [Respect]</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I forgot the rest.¡± Responded the singer. A few people collectively sighed in relief.

    I went back to the bars and shouted down the bricked hallway. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was a religious song.¡±

    ¡°Just ''cus it says Lord don¡¯t make it religious.¡± A fourth person sniffed.

    There was nothing useful to see anyway. None of the bars wiggled. Nothing glowed to key me in on the escape route. Angling myself from the cell''s corner showed me an awkward slice of brick wall extending twenty feet in either direction. We were without guards and none of the other Travelers talking were visible. I couldn¡¯t even be sure how many prisoners there might be.

    ¡°Shut up, it¡¯s got glory, and hallelujah, and even Jesus in there.¡± The one who had been signing sounded upset. I could hear bars further down rattling and an abrupt moment of laughter.

    ¡°Sounds religious to me.¡±

    ¡°You all don''t know nuthin''.¡± They kept talking and I had no clue who was actually speaking. It could have been one person with multiple personality disorder or a gang trapped in one room. My participation in the ongoing conversation was minimal as I searched for an escape. Maybe once outside I could [Blink] away to freedom.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t that just like real life. A body don¡¯t find religion until they go to prison for sinning.¡± The manly sounding female said.

    I happily hummed to myself through another round of escape attempts. Most of my brimming curiosity was focused on an important question. What was in the box? [Treasure¡¯s Gift] could be gold, but that would be useless once I made it back to a mailbox. The Casino royalties provided more than any sane man could ask for. Still, none of these messages gave me an answer.

    ¡°What are you in for?¡± One of the people shouted.

    ¡°Technically, I think I killed a Commander, and maybe this king, sort of.¡± I said absently. A moment of hesitation passed through me too late to prevent the admission. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have said anything. ¡°Part of that was my autopilot.¡±

    ¡°Good lord, what kind of monster trains their autopilot to kill NPCs?¡± The woman said.

    ¡°Listen, we can¡¯t all be in for a Ponzi scheme!¡± One of the others shouted in response.

    ¡°Please. It¡¯s not my fault those players were suckers.¡± She said.

    ¡°Hey, newbie! Killing royals is a high crime! Bet you end up on The Wheel for sure!¡± An unsteady voice shouted from really far away. It was hard to tell what any of them looked like with these bars. They should have given us cells facing each other for easier communication. Or maybe this prison was designed with cramped room in mind.

    ¡°Wheel what?¡± I shouted back.

    ¡°The Wheel,¡± A closer person stated. ¡°Only the worst get that gig. Child molesters and crap, or so I¡¯m told. Lucky saps like us just get confined until enough play time passes.¡±

    ¡°Bet they try you, put you in one of the chain gangs, and make you fodder for the dungeons no player in their right mind wants to risk!¡± That man way down on the far end sounded far too excited. ¡°Then I bet they kill you once you come out just to prevent your stats from going up! NPCs don¡¯t screw around!¡±

    ¡°That sounds bad.¡± I tried to feel calm but couldn¡¯t Months of in-game work was going to be battered apart. Still, it had been worth it when trying for Xin in Advance Online. From what little I could infer, my Continue Online counterpart had succeed in stopping Commander Strongarm, where my Advance version didn¡¯t win in time against Commander Queenshand.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t all bad-¡± The closer guy said, ¡°-they got rules. Rewards for things like most loot, most contribution, or kill the most players, sometimes winning means no axe at the end.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re screwed brother.¡± A deeper voice said. There were lots of jailbirds down here, and part of me couldn¡¯t figure out why. Were they all waiting for judgment? Or did the rules for Travelers require a certain amount of actual time spent in prison? If so, Continue Online had a neat sort of discouragement.

    I simply didn¡¯t have enough experience in major cities to care. Most of my time was spent wandering around and delivering letters. These weird politics were still very new to me despite playing for months in game.

    ¡°Nobody knows, the troubles you¡¯ll see!¡± The unsteady man started laughing as the rest of these players down below started taking up the mournful words, adding a nasty tone of mocking humor. ¡°Nobody knows your sorrows!¡±

    Worst of all, they were off key. I didn¡¯t know what else to do but hum along and test everything in the room three more times. Travelers didn¡¯t get toilets, there was nothing on or behind the polished metal mirroring. The whole framing came off the wall with barely a whimper of noise. I briefly considered trying to break it down and form some space liquid metal key to break out, but that was just a fever dream brought about by suffering this cell¡¯s dank atmosphere.

    Loud clinks of armor being jostled around announced the presence of someone new. Two more suits came in rapidly behind. All three arrived at my cell as I backed away from the bars. They wore short swords at their waists, one had it drawn and ready to stab if I tried to dodge through. Maybe with halberds, I could have broken through.

    It was just a virtual reality, but those guys also looked kind of scary. Men in large shiny bits of metal had an imposing aura that naked and slimy me couldn¡¯t possibly hope to match. They must have [Knight] paths far higher than my own. Was there a [Mindless Jailor NPC] type class available?

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡°Arms out, scum!¡± One of the trio yelled. I could hear the other Travelers in the background making noises like we were in grade school. We were stuck somewhere between the depths of prison hell and being ten years old, and goofy people made the difference.

    I thought about it for a moment while chewing one lip.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even try! We¡¯ll just cut you down again like we did your soulless husk.¡± The guard snarled at me. My face blanched for a moment at being compared to a zombie, but maybe autopilots weren¡¯t too far off. Mine had been getting better before being blocked from Continue Online.

    Now I had a clean bill of health, my own admin rights, and my sister was now only an emergency contact in case something happened. It made Liz mad, but I agreed that there should be someone on file, especially after Lia passed, and now with dad¡­

    My head shook and both arms went out slowly. They strapped a pair of crude looking handcuffs around me.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even think about trying to escape, you¡¯re marked. There¡¯s no prisoner that can escape after being marked.¡± One the trio said.

    A single guard ended up in the front. The two behind me both pulled out swords and prodded me into following the leader. My feet felt sluggish and the newest set of chains sent a small trickle of pain through the ARC¡¯s feedback. They really had managed to lock me down somehow. At least my [Brawn] and other stats, once actually unrestricted, would be about what I left them at.

    ¡°Goodbye, mister king killer! Good luck!¡± A prisoner shouted at me. Seconds later a sword jabbed me in the back.

    ¡°Knock ¡®em dead!¡±

    ¡°Thank god, maybe it will be quiet again.¡±

    ¡°Nobody knows!¡± Several voices started chanting as I clanked up the stairway at swordpoint. Their words echoed down the brick hallway to a top floor, that seemed to be a bit more general population. There were tons of people in this prison. Males, females, humans, and other slightly weirder looking creatures.

    Continue Online forced nearly everyone to start as human, but by following the right quest lines, it was possible to slowly transform into different races. Most people ended up going for slightly more classic archetypes, elves and such. My niece was half-demoness though she never explained exactly how that came about.

    I didn¡¯t really want to know myself. My own path through the game hadn¡¯t allowed any sort of modifications or stumbled across secret methodology. We walked through a top floor of the prison and out into a yard. The guards poked and prodded me the entire way, past people with oddly shaped irises, ears, and scaled skin or bald heads.

    Maybe one day I would get a chance to pursue my own racial benefits. What would Xin think if I lost all my hair and had slightly scaly skin? Could we even play this game together? Hopefully, it wouldn¡¯t be a weird in-between existence like Hal Pal and Jeeves had been. I should be fine since Xin already lived within the Continue Online realm. Sort of.

    AIs were both crazily powerful inside this virtual reality and insanely restricted. Each one of the Voices seemed to have limitations, I remembered the Voice of Balance stomping on Leeroy months ago, during my William Carver era.

    ¡°Pay attention!¡± The guards behind me poked away small slivers of health with their mean swords. ¡°Get in the cart! No funny business!¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of it.¡± I muttered while trying to figure out when these items would be accessable again. Being proked and prodded without any of my gear felt like being naked. And where was Dusk? There were a number of weird issues with my situation, and if I ran away with this [Convict Brand] my issues would probably increase.

    ¡°Stop staring. The nobles don¡¯t need to see your smug face.¡± The guard seemed dissatisfied with everything I did. The cart was open, and a fancy looking metal cage sat in the back. They shoved me inside as if I were a circus animal for everyone to see. All three guards took up positions around me with swords lain across their knees.

    My only goal was to see what the punishment was. If I got put on [The Wheel], whatever cycle of dungeon hell that involved, then an escape could be planned at that point. I would bide my time and watch for a weak spot. Maybe a bunch of other Travelers could help organize some complex jailbreak scheme.

    Except one of the prisoners in that brick hall had said people who got put on [The Wheel] were literal scum. I got the impression that these were people that tried to do less humane actions in a digital world because it involved less jail time than the real world. It made no sense to me, though, if they really wanted extremely deviant sources of entertainment, why come here? Why not unlock their ARC and download an illegal operating system?

    ¡°Stop looking so mean. You¡¯ll scare the ladies.¡± A guard once again objected to my actions.

    My eyebrow went up and forehead wrinkled. What exactly did this guy expect me to do? Stop existing? I shook my head and closed both eyes while trying not to dwell on these other players. They had to be a special sort of degenerate. I had seen those terrible programs and done my job of factory resetting people''s accounts when Hal Pal turned up an illegal program. Most of the questionable material ended up on secondary drives or offline modified units. What I couldn¡¯t see, I didn¡¯t want to know about. Yet, people did that sort of stuff here too?

    Fighting other players didn¡¯t bother me as much, especially not after the carnage of Advance Online¡¯s space warfare. Jitters still existed, but with Hermes, I felt confident in holding my own. Hopefully. [Blink] and [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] could do wonders. Most standard NPC monsters posed no problems during my travels though I still hadn¡¯t fought a dragon. That would be impressive. The more I played this game, the more I envied William Carver for his endless travels and challenges.

    I spent the rest of the twenty-minute horse ride thinking of exactly what sort of people might be on this Wheel thing, and my own ability to fight players. Hopefully, I wouldn¡¯t try to pull out a Gatling gun here in the fantasy world. [Mechanical Minion] and [Power Armor] were also out. It felt weird to long for Advance Online abilities here, yet long for Continue Online skills while in the other game.

    Guards escorted me inside. I looked around and marveled at how dull everything looked. Grays and dusty browns ruled the color scheme. The same patterning of a Griffin being skewered was repeated all over. There had been dungeons with higher quality backdrops than this place. Maybe it was a matter of taste, did the king prefer a more militaristic approach?

    ¡°Stop gawking and move on!¡± The guard stabbed at me again.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Simon says stop giving me lip

    Total Health Remaining: 75%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I tried to exist in a positive daze while being marched forth into a grand looking room. Compared to the rest of the castle this place felt opulent. Carvings flowed along the walls all towards the center throne. The heads of two great beasts loomed near the doorway glaring down. One was a medium sized dragon, and the other seemed to be an ogre. Both were preserved through magic or virtual reality rule bending.

    There was something about traveling that made me zone out. I wasn¡¯t like those heroes in great novels who would take in all the possible escape routes. That being said, my best bet was probably through the roof and across the gardens I had seen on the eastern side. They looked far less populated. Maybe I was getting better. How many monsters had I escaped from now? Part of me had been well trained by Shazam to look for escape routes. Though thinking of the tall Amazon made me sad. Lia Kingsley was dead, along with my father.

    One of the metal suited guards jerked me back by my shirt and pushed me to the ground. The first thought to occur was one of a child trying desperately not to dirty the thick carpet. That brief horror at making a mess confused me. I didn¡¯t want to get the one room in this place dirty with my grody clothes.

    ¡°Kneel, prisoner.¡± The man said, which I only heard part of. After being pushed down rudely a third time I gained some perspective and took care to look around. ¡°Stay down!¡±

    ¡°Lord, perhaps it would have been best to at least hose the prisoner down prior to transportation.¡± There was a person standing off to one side wearing immaculate clothing. The suit was clearly high fashion, well made, and not some wholesale poorly cut length. His sleeves fit well and white gloves finished off the suit¡¯s image.

    ¡°No, we need to get this filth moved on towards punishment as soon as possible. We are tired of housing his simpleton self in the dungeon with those lesser criminals.¡± The king somehow seemed to grow taller. It might have been my face getting closer to the ground. The guards were intent upon shoving me far into the now dirtied carpeting.

    ¡°Of course, your lordship is wise to move him on quickly, but only a moment more might have saved a fine carpet. It was a gift I believe, as part of your reinstatement.¡±

    ¡°We will simply tack the loss on to his debt.¡± The king waved a hand dismissively. Next to him a thin looking fellow with a ledger nodded and put quill to paper.

    ¡°How wise.¡± The man wearing a dovetailed jacket said. He looked very clean and professional.

    ¡°Don¡¯t pay such hollow lip service in front of us, counsel. Were it not for the Voice of Balance requiring all Travelers to have representation, we would have thrown you out.¡±

    The man bowed at the waist but chose not to say anything. He reminded me of the player Frankenstein mixed with a butler. There was also far less over the top silliness involved to this other person.

    ¡°We are King Nero, and you have been dragged here today so that we could see your face, in person. By this, we might judge if you held a shred of remorse for your crimes.¡± There was a man standing maybe twenty feet away. He looked familiar, but there had been so many people in the last few months. It could have been a client with their broken ARC, but this person was clearly an NPC.

    Was his face the same as my [King¡¯s Taste Tester] event? Maybe Continue Online allowed for the right to remain silent. The guards behind me had made it pretty clear all actions were not allowed. They seemed excited to interrupt me with no provocation.

    ¡°Do you? Traveler? Do you have any remorse for the death of a good woman?¡± King Nero voice didn¡¯t precisely sound condescending but came close. There was a vibration that combined attention demanding with assertiveness. A set of scars drug down the left end of his neck.

    ¡°She fought hard for her beliefs, and I for mine,¡± I said carefully from the ground. There was no good answer to the conflict which had happened between us. Senseless waste existed on both sides. Part of me wondered if the Continue Online version of Auntie Backstab existed somewhere here, hating my Hermes autopilot with all the rage a giant half-ogre or mountain giant could manage.

    ¡°As Hermes¡¯ counsel, I would like to remind the king that Hermes did endeavor to reduce the loss of soldiers on both sides.¡± The professional person acting as my counsel advised the king. I still had no idea who this other man was. He didn¡¯t seem affiliated with any of the merchants and rich nobles standing behind us. Not that I could see much with my face still planted on the ground.

    ¡°Faint good that did. Commander Strongarm was worth an army by herself.¡± King Nero seemed sad for a brief moment before his imposing air resurfaced. I glanced up at the man, his eyes bore down towards me. They looked gray, almost absent. The longer I stared the deeper his black centers appeared, almost as if they might swallow me whole.

    ¡°I-¡± A spear whacked me on the head leaving both a [Stunned] message and mumbles coming out of my mouth. My body tried to move but the [Convict Brand] reduced me to a weak kitten compared to these guards.

    ¡°And she was defeated, perhaps your lordship could conscript Hermes for the kingdom''s future.¡± My advocate stated calmly. He, at least, wasn¡¯t smacked in the face.

    ¡°Without her we might as well be doomed! I have seen the blackness that awaits us, I have been into the abyss'' depth!¡± The king turned almost frothing in an instant before a polite cough from the aid holding a quill set him back. He even managed to drop the whole royal we act that had been going on thus far.

    ¡°Sire.¡± My advocate said. ¡°We must think towards the future. Castrating a Traveler might reduce the need for vengeance, but by your own words, we will need a strength of arms in this world.¡±

    ¡°That is true.¡± He took a breath and righted himself. ¡°We did say that warriors will be needed.¡±

    ¡°And a culling, I believe, were your words.¡± The well-dressed man said with a slight bow. His clothes kept creating the slightest breeze every time he moved. I tried to figure out if that was a gear trick, or something else, but even [Inspection] was locked. My last few hours in-game were filled with denial. Only the hope of getting to my [Messenger¡¯s Tube] and contacting Xin kept me playing. Today had been terrible and this game was trying my patience.

    ¡°That is also true, some Travelers are too strong for their own good.¡± King Nero looked at his aid to the rear, and the thin man nodded then started marking words down on parchment.

    ¡°Then, as you yourself suggested, assign him to The Wheel, then make him serve as a hatchet man. Either he¡¯ll grow stronger, which only serves the kingdom or the others will kill him, which will serve your desire for retribution.¡± He sounded so calm when discussing my future.

    ¡°What the heck-¡± My words were cut off by the butt of a spear jabbing my face. The world spun and blurred.

    ¡°We have reached an agreement then. Punishment, where he¡¯ll either grow strong enough to fight the looming darkness or die enough to help us sleep at night. Either method can be considered a victory.¡± King Nero nodded then looked at his aid again. Once more the thin figure scribbled down items with a quill.

    So the king sentences me to a kill or be killed playground against other players? That seemed decidedly brutal for a Continue Online world, and what about Xin? Was she somewhere in the crowd witnessing my condemnation? Hopefully, she wasn¡¯t here.

    A spear came down and hit me once more. The repeated cranial abuse hurt in the ARC but was thankfully muted. My crippled character slipped into an [Unconscious] status and the screen went black. Playing Continue Online hadn¡¯t improved the day.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Sixty Seven â€“ Crime and Punishment

    <cite></cite>My avatar, me in essence, was currently equipped with a poorly made shirt and trouser combination that felt soggy in spots. Light down in this cell was poor, and seeing in the dark had never been a skill I gained in Continue Online. Mental desperation failed to activate a fantasy copy of [Echo Vision].

    Before being kicked out of Continue I had a whole swath of light items to help out when wandering. Most problems were solved with spell scrolls. If I needed an outdoor tent, there was an item to assist. Drinking water came from a [Well Spring Stone]. My inventory was full of handy player creations. At least, it had been, prior to Advance Online. Endless matchsticks for starting camp fires? The clothes washing bin to keep myself from getting [Soiled] by nature? Those and more were gone. Only the [Bound] items stuck with me.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] sat in my inventory with giant red cross marks on them. My gambling hat [Wild Bill] was in storage along with a bottomless deck of cards and some item titled [Treasure¡¯s Gift]. The picture for it in inventory looked similar to the box Treasure had provided me in Advance Online. I hoped it would be a useful item but for now it was blocked. Even [Blink] refused to trigger, along with the few other abilities I had.

    In short, I was fairly well boned. My autopilot had likely done some terrible things while I was away. Wait, Voices no. I had done terrible things. Killing Commander Queenshand, leading an army into battle against the giant space carrier [Knuckle Dragger], planting a bomb to blow it up. The [Mistborn], all those things in the game portion of Advance Online were echoed in Continue.

    My gut sat in a low knot after logging in and seeing my dank surroundings. A wall of messages flooded on my screen but I could almost predict what they were about already. Still, catching up on the backlog might provide more insight as to what was happening.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Gains

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Items: Completely mitigated by losses. Except [Treasure¡¯s Gift].</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Stats: You were killed a few times, so those were mostly pointless too.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Skills: You still can¡¯t use spells for more than a small ball of fire.</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Losses

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All the gear that wasn¡¯t [Bound]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All the gold that isn¡¯t in the mail</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All the freedom that is in the world</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Continue Online¡¯s pleasant Voice generated messages had a shortened recap. The words were verbatim, which let me know those upon high were still paying attention. Plus the [Messenger''s Tube] also sat in my inventory, crossed out of course.

    These clothes were gross and felt cold. My pants seemed to have bathed in liquid of a questionable nature. The cell next to me either had someone dying or shitting wildly all over the place. I got up and started tapping on the bars in hopes that someone might notice. This whole scene needed to move onto its next stage. Too bad the game required that I be logged in and active in order to get rid of the [Jailed] status.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Event!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Hit and Miss-tborn</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You, sort of, successfully channeled all the powers from the [Mistborn] but doing so required putting down the illustrious Commander Strongarm. She was worth seven of you in terms of sheer [Respect] and overall ability. At least, that¡¯s what the king believes.

    So you¡¯re in his dungeon, rotting and stuff. Mainly because the king had a thing for Miss all work and no play, or maybe she did for him. Don¡¯t worry, though, things will be looking up just as soon as someone comes downstairs to haul you away to court, where you¡¯ll be judged, and probably killed just for the cathartic release.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Due to standing in the way of royal desires you¡­</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Will forever be remembered as a criminal (Mitigation possible based on further actions)</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Will be denied access to royal skills, traits, and paths. (Freelance Knight 1 Path removed)</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Have been noted as a possible ally to those wishing to overthrow their kingdoms</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Have been provided the title [Royal Killer]!</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Nobody knows, the troubles I¡¯ve seen.¡± I mourned to myself while trying to activate various abilities. ¡°Nobody knows, my sorrows.¡±

    ¡°We know, we just don¡¯t care.¡± A male voice down the hall shouted. Other figures laughed, some rasped, and one hacked with amusement.

    ¡°Anyone know the next verse?¡± I shouted back towards the unknown audience. Since there were other people here, maybe we could kill time together. There didn¡¯t seem to be any good method of escape so far. My attempts at using fingernails to file away the bars was failing.

    ¡°No!¡± A woman, or possibly man with a really feminine voice shouted. ¡°Just shut up! I want to serve my time in peace!¡±

    ¡°Nobody knows the trouble I''ve seen.¡± The newest person sang with a terrible tone. ¡°Glory, Hallelujah, sometimes I''m up, sometimes I''m down, ohh, yes Lord.¡± They managed to stretch the words out a bit and it almost felt religious. That seemed odd for a game with all sorts of divinities in the form of Voices. What would they think?

    ¡°Shut up!¡± Shouted the woman, or man, or someone. More than one voice protested.

    I started checking the walls, poking and prodding at nearby objects in search for some jail cell escape event. The ceiling braces were devoid of keys. Muck piles in the corner squished grossly while I toed through them. I longed for shoes to make this process less nasty, but the ARC happily gave me chilled feedback on every oozing inch.

    ¡°Sometimes I''m almost, to the ground, oh yes, Lord!¡± The terribly toned player managed another line before pausing. People were still booing but most of it seemed like bored harassment rather than outright maliciousness.

    ¡°Give up?¡± The feminine person said after a minute of silence.

    None of the brick rocks moved. My system gave me a message stating skills like [Brawn], [Coordination], [Speed], [Limberness], and [Endurance] were all reduced. Oddly my social statistics, except [Respect], stayed the same. [Attractiveness], which had never been that high to begin with, was actually increased by twenty. That made no sense to me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Convict Brand]!

    Your body has been marked by a [Convict Brand] tattoo. This marking will permanently reduce your statistics under most conditions.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All physical stats are reduced by 75%</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All mental stats are unchanged</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+20 [Attractiveness] to certain people</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>- 20 [Respect]</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I forgot the rest.¡± Responded the singer. A few people collectively sighed in relief.

    I went back to the bars and shouted down the bricked hallway. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was a religious song.¡±

    ¡°Just ''cus it says Lord don¡¯t make it religious.¡± A fourth person sniffed.

    There was nothing useful to see anyway. None of the bars wiggled. Nothing glowed to key me in on the escape route. Angling myself from the cell''s corner showed me an awkward slice of brick wall extending twenty feet in either direction. We were without guards and none of the other Travelers talking were visible. I couldn¡¯t even be sure how many prisoners there might be.

    ¡°Shut up, it¡¯s got glory, and hallelujah, and even Jesus in there.¡± The one who had been signing sounded upset. I could hear bars further down rattling and an abrupt moment of laughter.

    ¡°Sounds religious to me.¡±

    ¡°You all don''t know nuthin''.¡± They kept talking and I had no clue who was actually speaking. It could have been one person with multiple personality disorder or a gang trapped in one room. My participation in the ongoing conversation was minimal as I searched for an escape. Maybe once outside I could [Blink] away to freedom.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t that just like real life. A body don¡¯t find religion until they go to prison for sinning.¡± The manly sounding female said.

    I happily hummed to myself through another round of escape attempts. Most of my brimming curiosity was focused on an important question. What was in the box? [Treasure¡¯s Gift] could be gold, but that would be useless once I made it back to a mailbox. The Casino royalties provided more than any sane man could ask for. Still, none of these messages gave me an answer.

    ¡°What are you in for?¡± One of the people shouted.

    ¡°Technically, I think I killed a Commander, and maybe this king, sort of.¡± I said absently. A moment of hesitation passed through me too late to prevent the admission. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have said anything. ¡°Part of that was my autopilot.¡±

    ¡°Good lord, what kind of monster trains their autopilot to kill NPCs?¡± The woman said.

    ¡°Listen, we can¡¯t all be in for a Ponzi scheme!¡± One of the others shouted in response.

    ¡°Please. It¡¯s not my fault those players were suckers.¡± She said.

    ¡°Hey, newbie! Killing royals is a high crime! Bet you end up on The Wheel for sure!¡± An unsteady voice shouted from really far away. It was hard to tell what any of them looked like with these bars. They should have given us cells facing each other for easier communication. Or maybe this prison was designed with cramped room in mind.

    ¡°Wheel what?¡± I shouted back.

    ¡°The Wheel,¡± A closer person stated. ¡°Only the worst get that gig. Child molesters and crap, or so I¡¯m told. Lucky saps like us just get confined until enough play time passes.¡±

    ¡°Bet they try you, put you in one of the chain gangs, and make you fodder for the dungeons no player in their right mind wants to risk!¡± That man way down on the far end sounded far too excited. ¡°Then I bet they kill you once you come out just to prevent your stats from going up! NPCs don¡¯t screw around!¡±

    ¡°That sounds bad.¡± I tried to feel calm but couldn¡¯t Months of in-game work was going to be battered apart. Still, it had been worth it when trying for Xin in Advance Online. From what little I could infer, my Continue Online counterpart had succeed in stopping Commander Strongarm, where my Advance version didn¡¯t win in time against Commander Queenshand.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t all bad-¡± The closer guy said, ¡°-they got rules. Rewards for things like most loot, most contribution, or kill the most players, sometimes winning means no axe at the end.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re screwed brother.¡± A deeper voice said. There were lots of jailbirds down here, and part of me couldn¡¯t figure out why. Were they all waiting for judgment? Or did the rules for Travelers require a certain amount of actual time spent in prison? If so, Continue Online had a neat sort of discouragement.

    I simply didn¡¯t have enough experience in major cities to care. Most of my time was spent wandering around and delivering letters. These weird politics were still very new to me despite playing for months in game.

    ¡°Nobody knows, the troubles you¡¯ll see!¡± The unsteady man started laughing as the rest of these players down below started taking up the mournful words, adding a nasty tone of mocking humor. ¡°Nobody knows your sorrows!¡±

    Worst of all, they were off key. I didn¡¯t know what else to do but hum along and test everything in the room three more times. Travelers didn¡¯t get toilets, there was nothing on or behind the polished metal mirroring. The whole framing came off the wall with barely a whimper of noise. I briefly considered trying to break it down and form some space liquid metal key to break out, but that was just a fever dream brought about by suffering this cell¡¯s dank atmosphere.

    Loud clinks of armor being jostled around announced the presence of someone new. Two more suits came in rapidly behind. All three arrived at my cell as I backed away from the bars. They wore short swords at their waists, one had it drawn and ready to stab if I tried to dodge through. Maybe with halberds, I could have broken through.

    It was just a virtual reality, but those guys also looked kind of scary. Men in large shiny bits of metal had an imposing aura that naked and slimy me couldn¡¯t possibly hope to match. They must have [Knight] paths far higher than my own. Was there a [Mindless Jailor NPC] type class available?

    ¡°Arms out, scum!¡± One of the trio yelled. I could hear the other Travelers in the background making noises like we were in grade school. We were stuck somewhere between the depths of prison hell and being ten years old, and goofy people made the difference.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    I thought about it for a moment while chewing one lip.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even try! We¡¯ll just cut you down again like we did your soulless husk.¡± The guard snarled at me. My face blanched for a moment at being compared to a zombie, but maybe autopilots weren¡¯t too far off. Mine had been getting better before being blocked from Continue Online.

    Now I had a clean bill of health, my own admin rights, and my sister was now only an emergency contact in case something happened. It made Liz mad, but I agreed that there should be someone on file, especially after Lia passed, and now with dad¡­

    My head shook and both arms went out slowly. They strapped a pair of crude looking handcuffs around me.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even think about trying to escape, you¡¯re marked. There¡¯s no prisoner that can escape after being marked.¡± One the trio said.

    A single guard ended up in the front. The two behind me both pulled out swords and prodded me into following the leader. My feet felt sluggish and the newest set of chains sent a small trickle of pain through the ARC¡¯s feedback. They really had managed to lock me down somehow. At least my [Brawn] and other stats, once actually unrestricted, would be about what I left them at.

    ¡°Goodbye, mister king killer! Good luck!¡± A prisoner shouted at me. Seconds later a sword jabbed me in the back.

    ¡°Knock ¡®em dead!¡±

    ¡°Thank god, maybe it will be quiet again.¡±

    ¡°Nobody knows!¡± Several voices started chanting as I clanked up the stairway at swordpoint. Their words echoed down the brick hallway to a top floor, that seemed to be a bit more general population. There were tons of people in this prison. Males, females, humans, and other slightly weirder looking creatures.

    Continue Online forced nearly everyone to start as human, but by following the right quest lines, it was possible to slowly transform into different races. Most people ended up going for slightly more classic archetypes, elves and such. My niece was half-demoness though she never explained exactly how that came about.

    I didn¡¯t really want to know myself. My own path through the game hadn¡¯t allowed any sort of modifications or stumbled across secret methodology. We walked through a top floor of the prison and out into a yard. The guards poked and prodded me the entire way, past people with oddly shaped irises, ears, and scaled skin or bald heads.

    Maybe one day I would get a chance to pursue my own racial benefits. What would Xin think if I lost all my hair and had slightly scaly skin? Could we even play this game together? Hopefully, it wouldn¡¯t be a weird in-between existence like Hal Pal and Jeeves had been. I should be fine since Xin already lived within the Continue Online realm. Sort of.

    AIs were both crazily powerful inside this virtual reality and insanely restricted. Each one of the Voices seemed to have limitations, I remembered the Voice of Balance stomping on Leeroy months ago, during my William Carver era.

    ¡°Pay attention!¡± The guards behind me poked away small slivers of health with their mean swords. ¡°Get in the cart! No funny business!¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of it.¡± I muttered while trying to figure out when these items would be accessable again. Being proked and prodded without any of my gear felt like being naked. And where was Dusk? There were a number of weird issues with my situation, and if I ran away with this [Convict Brand] my issues would probably increase.

    ¡°Stop staring. The nobles don¡¯t need to see your smug face.¡± The guard seemed dissatisfied with everything I did. The cart was open, and a fancy looking metal cage sat in the back. They shoved me inside as if I were a circus animal for everyone to see. All three guards took up positions around me with swords lain across their knees.

    My only goal was to see what the punishment was. If I got put on [The Wheel], whatever cycle of dungeon hell that involved, then an escape could be planned at that point. I would bide my time and watch for a weak spot. Maybe a bunch of other Travelers could help organize some complex jailbreak scheme.

    Except one of the prisoners in that brick hall had said people who got put on [The Wheel] were literal scum. I got the impression that these were people that tried to do less humane actions in a digital world because it involved less jail time than the real world. It made no sense to me, though, if they really wanted extremely deviant sources of entertainment, why come here? Why not unlock their ARC and download an illegal operating system?

    ¡°Stop looking so mean. You¡¯ll scare the ladies.¡± A guard once again objected to my actions.

    My eyebrow went up and forehead wrinkled. What exactly did this guy expect me to do? Stop existing? I shook my head and closed both eyes while trying not to dwell on these other players. They had to be a special sort of degenerate. I had seen those terrible programs and done my job of factory resetting people''s accounts when Hal Pal turned up an illegal program. Most of the questionable material ended up on secondary drives or offline modified units. What I couldn¡¯t see, I didn¡¯t want to know about. Yet, people did that sort of stuff here too?

    Fighting other players didn¡¯t bother me as much, especially not after the carnage of Advance Online¡¯s space warfare. Jitters still existed, but with Hermes, I felt confident in holding my own. Hopefully. [Blink] and [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] could do wonders. Most standard NPC monsters posed no problems during my travels though I still hadn¡¯t fought a dragon. That would be impressive. The more I played this game, the more I envied William Carver for his endless travels and challenges.

    I spent the rest of the twenty-minute horse ride thinking of exactly what sort of people might be on this Wheel thing, and my own ability to fight players. Hopefully, I wouldn¡¯t try to pull out a Gatling gun here in the fantasy world. [Mechanical Minion] and [Power Armor] were also out. It felt weird to long for Advance Online abilities here, yet long for Continue Online skills while in the other game.

    Guards escorted me inside. I looked around and marveled at how dull everything looked. Grays and dusty browns ruled the color scheme. The same patterning of a Griffin being skewered was repeated all over. There had been dungeons with higher quality backdrops than this place. Maybe it was a matter of taste, did the king prefer a more militaristic approach?

    ¡°Stop gawking and move on!¡± The guard stabbed at me again.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Simon says stop giving me lip

    Total Health Remaining: 75%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I tried to exist in a positive daze while being marched forth into a grand looking room. Compared to the rest of the castle this place felt opulent. Carvings flowed along the walls all towards the center throne. The heads of two great beasts loomed near the doorway glaring down. One was a medium sized dragon, and the other seemed to be an ogre. Both were preserved through magic or virtual reality rule bending.

    There was something about traveling that made me zone out. I wasn¡¯t like those heroes in great novels who would take in all the possible escape routes. That being said, my best bet was probably through the roof and across the gardens I had seen on the eastern side. They looked far less populated. Maybe I was getting better. How many monsters had I escaped from now? Part of me had been well trained by Shazam to look for escape routes. Though thinking of the tall Amazon made me sad. Lia Kingsley was dead, along with my father.

    One of the metal suited guards jerked me back by my shirt and pushed me to the ground. The first thought to occur was one of a child trying desperately not to dirty the thick carpet. That brief horror at making a mess confused me. I didn¡¯t want to get the one room in this place dirty with my grody clothes.

    ¡°Kneel, prisoner.¡± The man said, which I only heard part of. After being pushed down rudely a third time I gained some perspective and took care to look around. ¡°Stay down!¡±

    ¡°Lord, perhaps it would have been best to at least hose the prisoner down prior to transportation.¡± There was a person standing off to one side wearing immaculate clothing. The suit was clearly high fashion, well made, and not some wholesale poorly cut length. His sleeves fit well and white gloves finished off the suit¡¯s image.

    ¡°No, we need to get this filth moved on towards punishment as soon as possible. We are tired of housing his simpleton self in the dungeon with those lesser criminals.¡± The king somehow seemed to grow taller. It might have been my face getting closer to the ground. The guards were intent upon shoving me far into the now dirtied carpeting.

    ¡°Of course, your lordship is wise to move him on quickly, but only a moment more might have saved a fine carpet. It was a gift I believe, as part of your reinstatement.¡±

    ¡°We will simply tack the loss on to his debt.¡± The king waved a hand dismissively. Next to him a thin looking fellow with a ledger nodded and put quill to paper.

    ¡°How wise.¡± The man wearing a dovetailed jacket said. He looked very clean and professional.

    ¡°Don¡¯t pay such hollow lip service in front of us, counsel. Were it not for the Voice of Balance requiring all Travelers to have representation, we would have thrown you out.¡±

    The man bowed at the waist but chose not to say anything. He reminded me of the player Frankenstein mixed with a butler. There was also far less over the top silliness involved to this other person.

    ¡°We are King Nero, and you have been dragged here today so that we could see your face, in person. By this, we might judge if you held a shred of remorse for your crimes.¡± There was a man standing maybe twenty feet away. He looked familiar, but there had been so many people in the last few months. It could have been a client with their broken ARC, but this person was clearly an NPC.

    Was his face the same as my [King¡¯s Taste Tester] event? Maybe Continue Online allowed for the right to remain silent. The guards behind me had made it pretty clear all actions were not allowed. They seemed excited to interrupt me with no provocation.

    ¡°Do you? Traveler? Do you have any remorse for the death of a good woman?¡± King Nero voice didn¡¯t precisely sound condescending but came close. There was a vibration that combined attention demanding with assertiveness. A set of scars drug down the left end of his neck.

    ¡°She fought hard for her beliefs, and I for mine,¡± I said carefully from the ground. There was no good answer to the conflict which had happened between us. Senseless waste existed on both sides. Part of me wondered if the Continue Online version of Auntie Backstab existed somewhere here, hating my Hermes autopilot with all the rage a giant half-ogre or mountain giant could manage.

    ¡°As Hermes¡¯ counsel, I would like to remind the king that Hermes did endeavor to reduce the loss of soldiers on both sides.¡± The professional person acting as my counsel advised the king. I still had no idea who this other man was. He didn¡¯t seem affiliated with any of the merchants and rich nobles standing behind us. Not that I could see much with my face still planted on the ground.

    ¡°Faint good that did. Commander Strongarm was worth an army by herself.¡± King Nero seemed sad for a brief moment before his imposing air resurfaced. I glanced up at the man, his eyes bore down towards me. They looked gray, almost absent. The longer I stared the deeper his black centers appeared, almost as if they might swallow me whole.

    ¡°I-¡± A spear whacked me on the head leaving both a [Stunned] message and mumbles coming out of my mouth. My body tried to move but the [Convict Brand] reduced me to a weak kitten compared to these guards.

    ¡°And she was defeated, perhaps your lordship could conscript Hermes for the kingdom''s future.¡± My advocate stated calmly. He, at least, wasn¡¯t smacked in the face.

    ¡°Without her we might as well be doomed! I have seen the blackness that awaits us, I have been into the abyss'' depth!¡± The king turned almost frothing in an instant before a polite cough from the aid holding a quill set him back. He even managed to drop the whole royal we act that had been going on thus far.

    ¡°Sire.¡± My advocate said. ¡°We must think towards the future. Castrating a Traveler might reduce the need for vengeance, but by your own words, we will need a strength of arms in this world.¡±

    ¡°That is true.¡± He took a breath and righted himself. ¡°We did say that warriors will be needed.¡±

    ¡°And a culling, I believe, were your words.¡± The well-dressed man said with a slight bow. His clothes kept creating the slightest breeze every time he moved. I tried to figure out if that was a gear trick, or something else, but even [Inspection] was locked. My last few hours in-game were filled with denial. Only the hope of getting to my [Messenger¡¯s Tube] and contacting Xin kept me playing. Today had been terrible and this game was trying my patience.

    ¡°That is also true, some Travelers are too strong for their own good.¡± King Nero looked at his aid to the rear, and the thin man nodded then started marking words down on parchment.

    ¡°Then, as you yourself suggested, assign him to The Wheel, then make him serve as a hatchet man. Either he¡¯ll grow stronger, which only serves the kingdom or the others will kill him, which will serve your desire for retribution.¡± He sounded so calm when discussing my future.

    ¡°What the heck-¡± My words were cut off by the butt of a spear jabbing my face. The world spun and blurred.

    ¡°We have reached an agreement then. Punishment, where he¡¯ll either grow strong enough to fight the looming darkness or die enough to help us sleep at night. Either method can be considered a victory.¡± King Nero nodded then looked at his aid again. Once more the thin figure scribbled down items with a quill.

    So the king sentences me to a kill or be killed playground against other players? That seemed decidedly brutal for a Continue Online world, and what about Xin? Was she somewhere in the crowd witnessing my condemnation? Hopefully, she wasn¡¯t here.

    A spear came down and hit me once more. The repeated cranial abuse hurt in the ARC but was thankfully muted. My crippled character slipped into an [Unconscious] status and the screen went black. Playing Continue Online hadn¡¯t improved the day.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Sixty Eight - Virtual Chain Gang

    My character didn¡¯t regain awareness in the next twenty minutes. No character meant no Xin. No [Messenger¡¯s Tube] meant no contacting the Voices. I logged out of the ARC, upset, and passed out. Staying up late hadn¡¯t really been worth it, using my last [NPC Conspiracy] charge was an option. I disliked the idea of using such an insane trump card just yet, especially since the last one had shut down the globe for a few minutes. What would I do if men in black suits showed up and hauled me away? Being with Xin couldn¡¯t happen if I was in a prison cell.

    Dreaming plagued me with a wall of fears. My dad¡¯s face stood there shaking sadly. He said, ¡°Xin¡¯s not in the box son, she¡¯s over here with me.¡±

    I remember screaming in protest, but the words didn¡¯t make sense. They were more of an incomprehensible ranting. Half sobs were choked up by a denial of all that I hoped and worked for.

    ¡°Sorry, son. Life¡¯s for the living, and the dead are just rot. Like your cat, remember Mister Sniffles?¡± His words felt insanely clear for such an awkward dream.

    ¡°He was just a cat, and Xin is more than that!¡± Dream me shouted.

    ¡°Dead¡¯s dead, son. Time and tide wash us all away in the end.¡± His features were blurred by time''s haze.

    ¡°But Xin¡¯s alive!¡± I woke up raving with a rapid heartbeat. The last image before being sent into awareness was my father¡¯s face, devoid of awareness but still shaking back and forth sadly. When was the last time I really looked at either one of my parents? In the struggle to hold onto Xin¡¯s memory, I had cast away so many other relationships.

    The bed felt cold and goosebumps crisscrossed my arms. Had I really been so used to being alone at night? Even when Xin was around, I spent a lot of nights waiting for her to come home. Three years, long enough to be so dead inside I used a machine to dance with her, just to feel a hint of memory in my arms. I tried to shake off the emotions and took a breath. Thinking about the nature of our possible relationship only made me waste the limited time I already had.

    Five hours of sleep were all I managed to get. That would be nearly an entire day in Continue Online. Maybe Hermes was conscious and waiting to start serving virtual slave labor. Maybe then I could start working on redeeming myself or getting murdered, or whatever exactly was next. That King Nero fellow had sounded justifiably upset, and perhaps a bit crazy.

    Parts of the situation tore at me. My actions in an alternate reality video game had been linked to his death from the Voices manipulation of my character creation tests. That part was outside my control, but in both games, I had killed Commander Strongarm and Queenshand, who I guess was his sister in law. I didn¡¯t really understand how it all went together yet.

    Today I would simply take myself out of the work queue for a few hours and take a look at the journals Continue Online kept for me. It was odd, when growing up most of those lore items and game backstory issues were glazed right over as I pressed the next button. Now, as an adult, they mattered far more than expected. It wasn¡¯t just my wild ride either, Beth had an entire tapestry of backstory to her adventures too.

    I logged straight in, once again bypassing the little preview window that could be used for checking autopilot actions. It was more fun to dive in blind and just roll with whatever happened, in the same way I used to leap into the swimming pool and get the abrupt chill over with. My head shook, swimming made me think about dad. There was a reason I had never really been that active in sports.

    As the loading screen darkness faded I felt my leg weighed down by something extremely heavy. We, that is to say, I, and the back of a dozen other heads, were rolling along in an open-air sort of bus. There were large creatures that looked like a cross between dwarf giraffes and oxen off to one side. Our vehicle was bolted onto harnesses making the ride sway.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    New Player Attribute Added: [Criminal]

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Criminal] is a stat increased by those with a [Condemnation] ability.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Redemption] points cancel out [Criminal] points </li>

    </ul>

    [Redemption] points can be earned through completion of special tasks assigned by the party who [Condemned] you. In this case, you are punished by a person with [High Nobility] status. Tasks will be assigned as you travel around the territory. Total points gained varies based on the complexity of the task, reason for punishment and fine being imposed.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Until your Redemption rate reaches zero, you will remain a victim of the [Convict Brand].</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Current [Criminal] value: 7,000 </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Behind the system message was a wall of people snoring. If I concentrated there were tiny player and autopilot indicators floating up above. Glancing around revealed two NPCs in heavy armor escorting this prison cart. No one else, just two. There was a tower far in the distance that looked vaguely familiar. Not [The Lone Tower] where the [Mistborn] resided, but one that Beth had probably talked to me about.

    I tried to flip through my notes for a half hour while our cart meandered onward. It felt slower than the [Callibur]s by miles. We must have spent ten minutes passing by a single tree.

    ¡°Hey.¡± Someone behind me whispered quietly. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re online right?¡±

    It took me a few moments to register the words. The tower¡¯s name still eluded me, my notes for this region were minimal. I must have passed through at high speeds with [Blink] and [Lightbody] helping me.

    ¡°You there? You¡¯re not a mute, right?¡± The other person whispered. Their voice didn¡¯t sound familiar. There was a jingle to it that sounded almost southern, but crisp. I tried to turn my head around but there was something bolted to my neck that made it impossible.

    ¡°Deaf, you mean?¡±I asked. Shazam had been mute. The idea made me sad briefly but hopefully, this guy behind me couldn¡¯t tell what my face looked like. I had to remind myself that everyone here was a major criminal in the eyes of this game.

    ¡°Daft?¡± This stranger sounded honestly confused. ¡°You daft then?¡±

    ¡°Deaf, as in hard of hearing. And no, I was distracted.¡± I was beginning to suspect this person was daft, as in not entirely there.

    ¡°Shut it, convicts!¡± One of the two guards yelled.

    ¡°Oh. Yeah. That. Are you daft?¡± He whispered the question. Maybe the man was just screwing with me, he did sound kind of amused.

    I raised an eyebrow and leaned my head back slightly. Both hands were bound to a bar in front. Hopefully, this other person had been tied up too. There was a man to my left who seemed bolted down in a similar fashion. Part of me really wanted to exercise the full extent of my abilities upon this man''s body. All those weeks of pent-up aggression with the repetitive customer complaints. The idea of unleashing a bit of malcontent upon the world made me smile.

    These were players, so they would resurrect eventually. They were also supposedly complete scum. Briefly, I paused. My own status was right in the mix with these people. That meant in the general public¡¯s eyes I wouldn¡¯t be much better.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m daft.¡± Why not? I wasn¡¯t at work, there was no need to be the friendly but professional version of myself. These weren¡¯t accountant customers or letter recipients. I didn¡¯t really care a ton about showing weakness in front of people who played games, no matter how real this world was.

    ¡°Good. You looked like a daft to me. I¡¯m gonna call you Mister Daft forever.¡± He proudly declared. I couldn¡¯t see what this guy looked like, but he sounded like a belligerent teenager. ¡°That okay, Mister Daft?¡±

    ¡°I thought we agreed the new guy would be Sharkbait.¡± Another player said with a yawn in his voice. He sounded bored. This newest person was to the left. All around indications of autopilot symbols were dropping away.

    ¡°You said that, but we already got Shankems over there. I don¡¯t want another S name.¡± There was a rattle as the guy behind me moved around. His voice shifted to face us better.

    ¡°Dude''s name is Hermes, get an ID skill, and maybe some brain cells, then you can stop opting out at the beginning of every stop.¡± A fourth person spoke. He sounded deep and easily annoyed. I assumed the easy to annoy part because that was the first thing he had said, and this fourth rumbling voice sounded borderline mad.

    ¡°I ain¡¯t playing this game to fight. I¡¯m a loving sort.¡± The guy behind me insisted. He rattled something again.

    I jerked my hands trying to reproduce the noise. A few seconds later and there were a few possibilities. It was likely the man¡¯s chains were being stretched to their maximum range. Maybe there was an odd combination of footwork being done.

    ¡°Yeah yeah. Don¡¯t get your squicky hands in my direction. If you end up on my team, I¡¯m offing you before you can suicide on a pull.¡± The rumbling one spoke.

    ¡°What are you all talking about?¡± My eyes and neck strained to see two of them. The guy with a deep voice talking about an ID skill looked to be Hispanic. It might have been the avatar or an in-game skill. Tips of his hair actually held a pale whiteness to them, almost like they would glow in the dark.

    ¡°First tour?¡± The deep voice man asked me.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m Hermes. Thanks for getting my name right.¡±

    ¡°Nah, your name is Mister Daft.¡±

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Possible Alias:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Mister Daft</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Alias skills allow a player to mask their primary name with a secondary one. The effectiveness of an alias depends upon when, and where it¡¯s used. Further development of an alias takes work and time. Large scale deeds under an alternate name can help establish an alias.

    Note: Other Travelers may see past an alias depending upon their skill usage.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Or Hermes.¡± I offered, neither name bothered me that much at this point. My interest lay in all these words the details they seemed to be taking for granted. Those prisoners back in the jail cell seemed to believe this was a terrible place to be, yet three of these players had started a conversation already.

    Maybe there was a certain amount of disconnect, this was a virtual world after all. There was pain feedback when we died, nothing minor either. Especially considering the heart attack I had been exposed to as William Carver. Maybe they all made choices like I did.

    ¡°Alright, Hermes. Some ground rules to make life easier during your stay.¡± The big tanned guy said. He didn¡¯t bother turning his head much. ¡°Listen up, ¡®cus those that don¡¯t get boned quick.¡±

    ¡°I still like Mister Daft. Daft, ¡®cus he¡¯s got air between his ears.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him, he¡¯s got some skill that makes NPCs believe his lies. Works on players too.¡± The rumbling one said. I tried to use [Identification] but the skills were still locked. Mine, at least, but this other guy had managed to figure out my name at some point. Maybe we were unlocked briefly in order to do dungeon stuff.

    ¡°Shut up, convicts!¡± A guard pressed something hanging off the giraffe oxen monster then pain arched through our bindings. The big guy ground his teeth a little. I yelped from the unexpected spike. Others made varying noises.

    ¡°No one here is your friend unless circumstances force it. We¡¯re headed to a team dungeon, but expect no favors just because you¡¯re grouped.¡± He tried to whisper but failed. Apparently it was good enough for the guards.

    ¡°Okay.¡± All sorts of ideas raced through my brain.

    ¡°I¡¯m only talking because I enjoy a certain amount of fairness, and don¡¯t bother asking why we¡¯re in. To sum this shit up, at least four people here are in just for murdering everyone they could before enough other players brought them down.¡± The Hispanic guy shrugged. ¡°Seven others got burglary raps, add in some political hatred or getting on the wrong side of quests. Squick back there tried to touch a bunch of elf girls who may be eighty but are mentally eight.¡±

    ¡°Game''s rigged. They were legal.¡± The man grumbled. ¡°Way, way over eighteen!¡±

    ¡°Jesus, you kill him before he suicides and I¡¯ll consider it a personal favor. Same offer I make to everyone else. Free pass.¡±

    ¡°How many times!?¡± The guard yelled as armor clinked. Another round of electrical collar abuse kicked in. This time, everyone cried out except the big darkly tanned guy who had been explaining things to me. ¡°If the new guy needs to know something, he can learn by trial and error, or just check that guide shit you Travelers have.¡±

    ¡°Calm down, Knight Middleton,¡± said the other armored figure. He rode on a creature that looked like someone shoved a gazelle and bull together. Without [Identification] I was unsure, but this beast was probably a [Larodeo], which apparently combined ¡®the¡¯ and ¡®rodeo¡¯ together.

    The guard paused and glared at all of us. His hand hung above the electrical trigger button. I contemplated racing to log out of the ARC before another one hit. Dealing with pain when there was no choice was bearable, but this wasn¡¯t Requiem.

    ¡°Knight Middleton, shocking the Travelers does nothing to help them be rehabilitated, despite your beliefs.¡± The other knight said. There hadn¡¯t been a system popup regarding [Rehabilitation] points as a result of being damaged.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°It should. If the Voices left me in charge, I could just shock them endlessly, one point per minute endured.¡± The man pressed the button again anyway, despite his orders. I gasped as limbs shook from the jolt of electricity. ¡°Then even that child raping scum could be redeemed in a few months. I bet he would even thank me if there was some, stupid, skill.¡± A finger jamming jolt of pain accompanied each of the final words.

    ¡°Knight Middleton, once again I will remind you that justice is not ours to dispense. We only follow the rules set forth.¡± The other guard¡¯s tone sounded familiar. It was hard to place, almost like something from a half-forgotten dream.

    ¡°Fine,¡± He said.

    ¡°Convicts, for your own health, keep quiet until we reach the tower¡¯s base.¡± The guard in charge didn¡¯t even turn to look at us. His words were oddly clear.

    Most of the other convicts flipped back out to autopilot. They must have been checking their characters out when someone started talking. The remote screen was good at seeing when things moved, but time dilation made it hard to track conversations sometimes.

    I decided to log out and get the rest of my sleep. We clearly had time to wait before anything super exciting happened and I needed to be rested before dealing with group treachery. What exactly might they do? Form alliances across teams? Lead other people to their deaths?

    When we were all chained down and sitting together in daylight it felt peaceful. Compared to frothing beasts in my face they were only human. Still, any one of these people barreling down on me in a game might turn rapidly ugly. That large man who just shrugged off electrical jolts had to be skilled, or tough with a damage reduction. Those hands had been huge too, like, Iron sized, or Leeroy, and he sounded nothing like those two.

    He felt informative, but not friendly. The guy behind me, upon reflection, had been condescending and almost weasel-like. Inside the game, I had suppressed those impressions in order to listen and get my bearings in the new location. Thinking of being in the middle of all these literal criminals with unknown Continue Online abilities worried me about future prospects. My sleep was fitful and sweat filled.

    A few hours later I logged in, more nervous than before after a moment to reflect. I still planned on fighting when needed, but it wouldn¡¯t be fun or exciting. Battle blinded lust wasn¡¯t one of my personality traits at all.

    The guards were far enough away that we might be able to risk conversation. Our two escorts had met up with another six people wearing heavy armor. The bus seemed to be heading into a harness platform of some sort. Looming up above in a swirl of brightly lit orbs was the tower that had been visible from a distance. It reminded me of the old Starry Night work only the very air around it warped with colors. It went up into the sky quite a ways.

    ¡°Tower of Stars, that¡¯s it, right?¡± I vaguely remembered Beth talking about it being a raid level zone. She died here more times than I cared to think about trying to beat this place again and again, but so far no one had made it to the top.

    ¡°Stop three on The Wheel, average deaths per three-man clear, seven. Loot we get to keep, bound. Winner last round? Android Seven over there. Soloed the boss when all the other convicts were dead.¡± A man next to me spoke calmly. His shoulders looked lopsided. ¡°But we¡¯re not doing the tower, we¡¯re doing the much less exciting group dungeon called the Black Hole of Light.¡±

    The carriage stopped completely and the giraffe oxen creatures groaned in unison. They sat down and our cart rocked as the platform took on the weight. We were still four feet above the ground but now suspended by heavy wooden beams. Two clearly patterned circles were marked nearby. Both guards got off their own mounts and started towards the circles.

    ¡°Android Seven?¡± I tilted my head in confusion. Continue Online didn¡¯t have robots or androids, did it? Luckily our guards were away from the shock buttons so we should be able to converse a little.

    ¡°Just another player, punished for whatever crimes the game lured him into. If you draw his group he¡¯ll probably let you live. He rarely does anything to lose points.¡± This person didn¡¯t even stop to introduce himself.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to be in groups?¡± I asked while eyeballing the crowd around me. A gate clinked behind us. My head had just enough slack to see some sort of fortified wall with guards up top. It felt like [Camp Grey Skull] but with NPCs all dressed in fine armor.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be in groups of three. Luck of the draw, we get about an hour between groups.¡± The man nearby said.Without a completely visible face, it was difficult to anchor all these people. Plus everyone wore the same orange and black looking clothing. Why a fantasy world seemed intent upon using modern prisoner coloring was beyond me.

    The tower¡¯s base was almost the size of two football fields long. We could see it through a set of bars that separated us from the actual dungeons. There weren¡¯t any other Travelers headed up into the building, so maybe normal people were given a different entrance. A tunnel of sorts could be seen wrapping around the tower¡¯s base like a nautilus shell. One route tilted up into the dungeon that Beth had probably traversed. Down went down into a darkened pit.

    ¡°That sounds messy,¡± I said while trying to figure out what would happen next. The two guards that had ridden with us were now sitting in their circles. Runes on the ground were lighting up from [Lithium] spells. I smiled briefly, remembering Requiem¡¯s lithium chanting. It sounded like bad childish poetry or did back in my [Red Imp] era.

    ¡°It is. Groups are encouraged to kill each other and whatever monsters they can find to keep the dungeon under control.¡± The other Traveler said with a barely visible shrug. He must have known I was new. Even now I barely remembered the rules on how dungeons worked. There were bosses, lots of little creatures, some had treasure or puzzles. Others came with quests inside. It was dynamic, so each person entering got a slightly different experience.

    ¡°Why does Android Seven win?¡± I had to know if there was a secret that might help. This guy would be within rights to keep it himself, or feed me false information, but he didn¡¯t seem to care.

    ¡°I got nothing. He just does. Man has about five hundred murders under his belt and will be out in weeks at this rate.¡± His head shook. ¡°Good for us, I guess. I¡¯m more worried about what quest might require mass murder.¡±

    I blinked a few times then looked at the quiet man in a corner. He looked almost, normal to me. If I were to slap a business suit on the other person then he could fit in on Wall Street or some other business area. Not that they were popular anymore with the technological growth these last two centuries. Still, he wore the same bright orange garb all of us did.

    There was a flash of light up front that distracted me from staring at Android Seven. [Lithium] fueled runes had spiraled into a bright glowing shield around both guards. It looked to be a protective barrier of some sort. There was a third light slowly coalescing between them that seemed to be a box sitting atop a table.

    ¡°Shut up!¡± Knight Middleton yelled at us. ¡°Listen closely! Your kind-¡± The man briefly sneered under his visor then went back to shouting too loud. ¡°-should be getting information from the Voices right now. You¡¯ll get some regulations for your stay. Kindly don¡¯t waste our time by trying to escape.¡±

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    People wearing the [Convict Brand] are restricted in their ability to stray from [Redemption] points. Each brand needs to stay within one hundred feet of a [Redemption Wagon] or only act within an approved location. Straying outside these bounds will result in a cumulative damage effect until the death of your current physical existence.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Next up is group lots!¡± One of the guards shouted. ¡°Most of you should know the drill by now! As this is what you Travelers call a group dungeon, three make up a squad. Survive, bring out your trophies displaying kills, highest group stays off the equalizing block.¡±

    The bindings keeping us tied down dropped away. I reached up and felt along my neck for a heavy bracing that hadn¡¯t really been noticed yet. The weights around my ankles and hands were gone as well. I looked around but no one seemed to be taking advantage of the freedom to rush or attack mindlessly.

    We slowly formed lines, with a startling level of organization given our [Criminal] status. I tried not to flinch away as the other people bumped into me. They weren¡¯t bigger or anything, especially considering my Hermes character had an insane amount of [Brawn], but they could have been crazy, or backstabbing. Plus my clothes were beyond recovery. Maybe it was the reminder of my own clothes and their dried crusty status.

    ¡°What about the losers?¡± I asked the talkative guy. We had been getting along well enough for now. He hadn¡¯t been revealed to touch young elves or murder hundreds of people. Both ideas seemed reprehensible to me.

    ¡°You can still come out ahead if you do well enough down below, or at least, try to break even with the death penalty.¡± He said.

    I nodded then looked at the next message on my screen.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">King Nero¡¯s Offer</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty: </td>

    <td colspan="3">Variable</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    The king has made you an offer you can¡¯t refuse. In order to atone for your failures, and ensure that other rule breaking Travelers suffer appropriate setbacks, you will be rewarded with twice the [Redemption] points for every other Traveler brought low,.

    <ul>

    <li>Current Redemption Remaining for freedom: 7,000 </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Worst case, take the easy out and die to a boss or something. Just don¡¯t let another player get you.¡± He said.

    ¡°Why would they want us to kill each other?¡± I asked while shaking my head. It made no sense. They could have offed us all easily while we were bound in the cart. Based on what little I had gleaned, they had the option of setting our resurrection points in a kill box and fire walls of arrows down each time we risked coming back.

    ¡°Player versus player penalties are greater than dying to the monsters, and most NPCs killing us costs us nearly nothing but time.¡± He explained as we shuffled forward. The line moved quickly. People dipped hands in, pulled out their small looking piece of wood with a number on it, then walked off.

    The unnamed, but helpful, person in front of me took a number out then sighed. I followed up quickly by sticking my hand into the dark pit of a box. There were tiny wood objects inside. I pulled my prize out and saw the two burned into its surface.

    ¡°Two.¡± I said while trying to run through scenarios. It put me, and two random people, ahead of nine others who would have reasons to kill us and take our success as their own. That put us behind one group, that might have laid down ambushes in their hour lead.

    ¡°I¡¯m three.¡± The talkative man sighed. ¡°Guess that means we¡¯ll be enemies.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± I felt bad that he had helped explain things only to possibly be killed by my virtual swords. This may have been a digital world, but it looked real, and the pain was still hurt.

    ¡°That¡¯s how it goes while you¡¯re here, this whole thing¡¯s a mess. At least, I get redemption points for explaining. Once inside, there¡¯s no truces.¡± With that, he turned and walked away. After being broken into teams, our situation turned far different than I had thought it might. What had been at least a mildly professional relationship was cut off in the face of future conflict.

    My eyes slowly followed the man as he moved towards a number on the ground. This place was almost like a box with starting positions. There were gates for up to eight teams, but we only had enough people for five in our convict band. Fourteen other people who might try to stab me in the back during this adventure.

    Part of me expected these guys to be worse, or harder, or downright rude. Daylight might have brightened my perspective. It could have the pleasant feeling I got from knowing Xin was out there. They seemed intent upon serving their sentences as quickly as possible. It made sense, this was a game, not a hard core prison. Anyone who truly screwed themselves over could go play somewhere else, like Advance Online, or delete their character then start over.

    ¡°Group one, over here. Two, here!¡± The guard pointed towards another three spots for the other groups then started a long explanation. ¡°Restriction crystals are active. Idget, I¡¯m saying this for you since you keep trying to escape. Tampering will get you killed! Trying to escape will get you killed! Post-death regathering of your essence brings you back to the bus! You¡¯re here until your debt is cleared!¡±

    There was one more surprise waiting for me. The guard, who had been mostly covered, head to toe, in plated armor, lifted his visor to look at us. His face looked familiar enough that I had broke our shuffling silence to ask, ¡°Wyl? Is that you?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve no right to call me by my first name, convict.¡± Wyl responded.

    I was floored. This was indeed the guard captain from [Haven Valley], and my time as William Carver, but what was he doing out here escorting prisoners of a completely different kingdom? Had something happened while I was gone?

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Sixty Nine - Blue Monday

    My partners were the guy who touched little elves, and another man who looked blind. They both seemed indifferent to my presence. Here we were, trapped in a barricaded square and about to chase each other to repeated death, and most of my thoughts were stuck on Wyl.

    The former guard captain of [Haven Valley] stared right through me with complete apathy. His body held rigid in the protective beam of light. I couldn¡¯t remember enough details of our time together. The automatic game journal notations from William Carver¡¯s era were mixed. Many items were recorded, but a low starting [Depth] and [Knowledge] limited the information. Having both stats higher would have helped record more details automatically.

    I tried to talk to him again. ¡°Wyl? Is Haven Valley okay?¡±

    That earned me a dirty look and glare. The man was in his forties and looked rough compared to the nearly constant smile from before. It had been almost ten months of game time since then. Something must be wrong, the very idea made my face turn white. I stepped past Knight Middleton¡¯s post to get closer to Wyl. He stood a bit shorter now that I was no longer in a hunched old man¡¯s body.

    ¡°Mylia? The kids, are they okay?¡± I banged into the pillar of light and lost a chunk of health as my teeth vibrated in pain.

    Wyl briefly winced then ignored me in order to stare off into the distance. I panicked and hit the barrier again. Health dipped as pain rippled through. My ability to grit my teeth and suffer through was far less than the Hispanic guy¡¯s had been.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Electricity eventually cures stupidity

    Total Health Remaining: 70%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Go on with your task, convict, so that we can move onward.¡± Carver¡¯s former friend said. Not wearing the old man¡¯s body counted against me. Would he feel different when seeing [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]?

    ¡°Wyl, I know I¡¯m just a convict to you right now, but, life started for me in that town.¡± That location was when I first began to wake up after three years of sticking my head in the sand. All those people were important for different reasons, even if none of them knew me as Hermes. ¡°Can you at least tell me, are Mylia and the kids alright?¡±

    Wyl stared at me, then looked at [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. His eyes lingered on the smooth blankness that went with the wooden cane form. I couldn¡¯t outright say it, but at one point I had a [Legacy Wish] from Old Man Carver himself. Shortly after the ability merged into the [NPC Conspiracy] ability.

    ¡°No, they¡¯re not,¡± He answered. The man looked briefly human for a moment. ¡°Haven Valley isn¡¯t alright at all.¡±

    I nodded. Now there was something to really fight for. [Haven Valley], a town that had started everything for me was in trouble. Not to mention there was the issue of Xin, floating in virtual reality waiting for me to make a move of some sort. I needed to get a letter to the Voices quickly.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quest:</td>

    <td colspan="3">The Task At Hand [Stop #3]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Difficulty:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Pathetically low to Difficult</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    As part of your attempts at [Redemption] there is a dungeon to be cleared. This dungeon will pose many challenges that typically kill normal Travelers. If anyone in your group has access to a [Resurrection] skill you will be allowed to use it, and bypass the (4 day) reconstruction timer.

    Convicts will be stuck at this stop for twenty-eight days. Removing the final boss will allow for a rest period.

    In order of value, points can be earned for:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Destruction of enemy monsters</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Key resources collected</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Defeating other parties</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Contribution to current group</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Survival duration </li>

    </ul>

    Points will be lost for:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Complete lack of participation</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Destruction of valuable items</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Betrayal of team members </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help!

    All items earned during the dungeon crawl will be removed upon the 28 day marker. Only [Bound] items are allowed to be carried over to the next point on [The Wheel]. Travelers who reach their [Redemption] requirements to remove [Criminal] status, will be released at the 28 day marker.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I turned away from Wyl. Trying to convince him of our past history couldn¡¯t be completed in the remaining hours before our dungeon entrance. Any quick method of convincing him required betraying William carver¡¯s last few weeks.

    ¡°I go by Viper.¡± The blind looking one of my new team members said. That nickname fit once I noticed that his eyes had really thin vertical slits in them. It made sense that he seemed blind with so much of the eyeball being pure white and no standard iris.

    ¡°Hermes.¡± I turned to face them and tried to give a decent smile. Well, mostly Viper, the other guy bothered me. Though my brain also felt conflicted about the idea of an eighty-year-old little girl. What kind of nonsense had the Voices put down in this world?

    ¡°This is Mister Daft, not Hermes. Daft, as in can¡¯t hear or think.¡± The guy who had been speaking behind me looked more human than Viper did. He was slightly shorter with brown hair cropped into a goatee.

    ¡°That¡¯s Ssquickss, he¡¯ll try to get killed.¡± Viper pointed to the guy who insisted I was Mister Daft. ¡°Sso normally we let him.¡± There was a disgusted tone in his voice as Viper spoke. ¡°Dude sskatess by with like twenty participation points each time, then logss off until the twenty four hourss is up.¡±

    ¡°So, the three man team is really only two?¡± I tried to ignore the way Viper hissed certain letters.

    ¡°Until ssomeone bribess me with enough to kill you.¡± The funny eyed Traveler shrugged then laughed with a stutter.

    ¡°That¡¯s, up front of you.¡± I didn¡¯t know how else to explain it. What kind of person just advertises they¡¯re out to kill another player? People were weird. This was a game, and we were stuck in an endless respawn then dungeon crawl cycle for the next week of real life. Everything fell under odd.

    ¡°Eh, I tell you, because maybe during the next sstop you¡¯ll want to buy my sservices. I¡¯m quite good at it.¡± He seemed to be glaring at Squisks, or whatever the other Travelers name was.

    ¡°How do you do it?¡± I wanted to know what method this player had that made him so confident.

    ¡°Uh uh. I can¡¯t give it all away.¡± He hissed while laughing again then got distracted. ¡°Thiss iss just my ssaless pitch.¡±

    Was he doing that on purpose? There seemed to be something wrong with his neck muscles and other joints too. I studied them and compared it to all the figures I had danced with over the years. Those connecting points were too fluid. If I were to combine it with Continue Online¡¯s weird half breed quest lines, the hissing, and slit eyes, it was very likely he had some serpent abilities.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll keep it in mind.¡± Loot never bothered me. Maybe giving some away to buy an ally would be good.

    Now that we were all unbound and standing closer the atmosphere felt a bit uglier. The first party was already lined up near their number and getting ready to go. A member of the trio had their weapons out and swung the blade to warm up. A female kept shaking her hands, every so often a flare of blue energy would float from wiggling fingertips.

    Their third partner kept looking around with shoulders bunched in nervousness. The final one broke away from the crowd and started running for a wall. Arrows came down rapidly bringing the man''s health to zero with a grunt.

    Behind me, a member of the fourth team screamed then started trying to run in another direction. I turned in time to see two arrows catch him in the back, leaving the man limply hanging over a wall. I barely had time to blink before a hand shoved me from behind. My body tripped forward and the desire to [Blink] away didn¡¯t gain a result.

    Only a lot of combat and balance kept me upright.

    ¡°Hold!¡± Wyl yelled. A single arrow landed right next to my abruptly relocated form. I turned to glare behind me. Viper stood far enough away that it wasn¡¯t likely an issue. Squisks looked confused.

    ¡°Assssholess.¡± Viper glared at one of the people in another group.

    His source of ire, a taller person with long fingers, smiled in my direction and waved one hand. I felt a gentle pat on my cheek as if being brushed by an invisible figure. Did that other teams Traveler have an invisible hand technique? How awkward.

    ¡°You want him killed, half price.¡± Viper said.

    One casual push from an ability had almost gotten me arrowed. I shook and tried not to think about how easily players could die in this game. My major goal was surviving long enough to find a private spot and check the [Messager¡¯s Tube]. There would be one less player in front of us, so that was mildly useful.

    Viper continued his glare at the other player while I tried to figure out what our chances would be against unknown abilities. Better yet, what kind of powers did my own group had? No other players seemed interested in sharing their powers. Fantasy driven skills and talents could make for an odd array of possibilities.

    There were a lot of cookie cutter abilities too. Multiple people used the same playstyles or builds with very small variations. I once went into a large capital that offered similar classes to NPCs and Travelers at the same time. Hundreds of people going through the coursework to be basic foot soldiers or trackers.

    ¡°Anyway, until ssomeone payss me more than it¡¯ss worth to keep you alive, we¡¯re in this together.¡± Viper turned then smiled at me. His teeth looked masked by thin lips.

    ¡°How much am I worth?¡± I asked the player while getting back to our marker. My eyes shifted around to each group to gauge those remaining.

    ¡°We¡¯ll find out in a few hourss, won¡¯t we?¡±

    My mind ran through escape routes or ways to work through this mission. Getting away without earning some [Redemption] would be unlikely. Maybe there was a magical portal down below. There was also the possibility that revealing too many skills might just get me ganged up on. There had been television shows about this very idea. Look too weak, get picked on, look too strong, get ganged up on. Float in the middle and maybe survive.

    No, I would save my other ideas for later. One day of real life would be four inside the box. There was more than enough time to do whatever I needed. Or, and this would be an abuse of power, my admin access should be kicking in soon. It would be easy enough to just kick all these players out, clear the dungeon, and move forward.

    ¡°So, Mister Daft, what are you gonna offer not to be killed?¡± Squisks asked. He looked to be on the verge of chuckling and his goatee was stretched wide in a huge grin.

    I scratched my head and said, ¡°Nothing?¡± The amount seemed fair for my digital existence. Right now, based on prison time, there was no reason to be insanely worried. Grinding out [Redemption] points couldn¡¯t be more time consuming than working on the [Wayfarer Seven]¡¯s hull. Though dying would set me back.

    ¡°What?¡± He sounded confused.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± My head tilted slightly in confusion. Did they expect me to be worked up over this? I had already been shoved into at least three situations where performance mattered. Right now, there was no reason to stress. ¡°Worst that happens is you guys gang up on me. Then I know not to trust you, and none of us get anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Damn.¡± Viper said without a hiss. ¡°You¡¯re no fun.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve had worse quests. This is just, repercussions of past choices, I guess.¡± Trying to sum up my thoughts wasn¡¯t working well. The very name of [Redemption] and having a point value seemed simple enough. My actions had cost those with power. They wanted us to tear each other down, kill monsters, and gather the powers that be resources.

    It was a rather good idea for putting Travelers to use, at least in kingdom terms. Everything seemed to border between kind of dark and standard Continue Online atmosphere. If this were a real fantasy world and I only had one life, than this process would be terrible. As it was, my stress was low.

    ¡°There¡¯s sstill a threat. You¡¯d be ssurprised what a mind can do, when there¡¯s enough reward in place, at the very least people can make ssure you come out behind.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t make it worse, can you? The way I read it, criminal points can only be added by those with the Condemnation skill.¡± I had read the text. These guys couldn¡¯t put me further in the hole, that I knew of. It should be possible to get a few points at a time.

    ¡°True. Either way, it¡¯ss your call. As long as no one payss me, we can go down, kill a few thingss, bring out minor loot, or try to hit pockets of sstuff, but people may torture uss.¡± Viper didn¡¯t seem to care either way. Chances were he expected me to be dead weight like Squisks, or believed one of the other groups might kill us quickly.

    ¡°Why would they try to torture us? We have to be logged in for it to actually hurt. I can watch remotely anything you might be doing, and pain is far less intense in game.¡± The idea of another player threatening me felt laughable. Not once had any other Travelers actions scared me, even when chasing down Commander Queenshand. They didn¡¯t bother me in the same way that the Voices or various NPCs might have.

    ¡°How can you say that?¡± Squisks looked nervous at even the thought of full on torture.

    ¡°Real life hurts a lot more.¡± I said quietly, then my head shook.

    ¡°Ssee, Hermess ain¡¯t a wussss like you Ssquiskss. It¡¯s just a game, if you want back to your ladiess sso bad, sstart over. Maybe try not to touch the wrong person thiss time.¡± Viper hissed in a bright laugh.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I shrugged while thinking about what they could actually do in the game. One of them would stab me in the back, the pain would be brief, and life would go on. Such feelings were why the game required being a legal adult to play. Rumination over the next thirty minutes provided a few possible ideas.

    There were tons of ways they could handle group tasks. I looked at the other teams for a bit, then back towards my own. Using visual cues only to guess each person''s skill level was difficult. That being said, there were still certain ways of standing that I had learned from Shazam during our time together. Most of them came off as pretty bad physical fighters, except that Android Seven person, and maybe Viper.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°So, do people pay you to get your group killed, Squisks?¡± I asked the brown haired man.

    ¡°That¡¯s none of your business, Mister Extra Daft.¡± He responded while waving a finger back and forth. There was a briefly uncomfortable look on his face which was probably a yes. Too bad I hadn¡¯t inherited William Carver¡¯s [Truth Sense] ability.

    ¡°Then, you probably paid with a stash of items near the end of each dungeon, if you successfully off someone?¡± I pointed at Viper. He nodded but didn¡¯t smile. ¡°Which means, we¡¯ve been here long enough that you have a preferred drop point, or you trust the paying player enough to-¡± My head shook back and forth and cut off the outloud rambling.

    Viper didn¡¯t say anything. Either I was on the right track, or he simply didn¡¯t care. It was probably best that our items were all still sealed or blocked from being used. One of them might try to kill me now in order to prevent too much musing. Did everyone else have [Bound] items? No one seemed concerned about the lack of equipment.

    ¡°You get paid at the end. Which is stupid. The math probably doesn¡¯t work in your favor.¡± I had a degree in accounting. Really, killing each other and fighting over items was a terrible waste of resources, time, and effort.

    ¡°How sso?¡± Viper seemed interested.

    ¡°Come on, we¡¯ve got another thirty minutes to kill, someone give me numbers. How much is each part of the task list worth?" I motioned my hand at the other two in my team.

    Both people started spouting numbers, which also involved some arguing. Squisks, or whatever his name was, hadn¡¯t actually survived once until the end of a dungeon. Viper insisted the survival value was started at one point per hour and compounded from there. The math ironed out to three hundred points for the first day. Another three hundred could be earned at the end of day two, three, and so on. [Redemption] only registered if I made it back to the two guards in their beams of light. Survival down there with four other groups prowling around and gaining points for killing us sounded difficult.

    Still, freedom was possible. Notes from Mother would be in reach. In addition, I wanted to get away from here and reach [Haven Valley]. If we were at the [Tower of Stars], which was near the central continent, then it would take a few weeks on a [Callibur] to reach the west coast. The idea that something had happened to take Wyl away had me worried. What about his son Dayl? The kid had looked like he might be lost without his father around.

    Remembering the goofy older teen made me pause in my calculations with a smile. That reminded me of the other players from William Carver¡¯s era. Maybe they would know something. I tried to bring up the message system since we had used a Porter to become in-game friends.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Traveler communications are limited as a result of the [Convict Brand]. Only by earning enough [Redemption] points can you once again use the messaging system for talking to other Travelers.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Well, that wasn¡¯t very neat. I stopped laughing and looked up. For a moment, my gaze searched for a certain winged creature to be somewhere in the horizon. Then it occurred to me why he wasn¡¯t back. Technically the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had died in Advance Online, which meant I needed to resummon him here.

    Still, some people could use their abilities out here despite the restrictions. That struck me as odd. My own skills should turn back on once we got inside the dungeon. Then Dusk and I could be reunited, in some pit with people trying to stab me in the back while I tried to find a hole with enough light for some note reading. Topping that off would be needing to survive, make it to and from the surface, and not cross paths with Android Seven. I wanted to know the man''s secret, but I didn¡¯t want to get close enough to be turned into [Redemption] points.

    ¡°Damn.¡± I poked around on my interface, sure enough there was an ability to bring him back titled [Summon: Companion], but it was crossed out just like everything else.

    ¡°Ssomething wrong?¡± Viper asked. He had edged closer, which kind of creeped me out. The man was just inhuman enough to be disturbing. It might have been because he was a snake creature, instead of robotic like the [Mechanoid]s.

    ¡°No.¡± I shook my head and switched gears. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to go over the numbers.¡±

    ¡°You think you¡¯re the first to try and sscam the ssysstem?¡± Viper asked.

    ¡°Mister Extra Daft.¡±

    ¡°Let me guesss, you¡¯ve got a plan that will let uss all gain a little, and it only requiress that we all come together?¡± The snake eyed man started laughing uncontrollably.

    ¡°Daft as all hell.¡± Squisks started giggling too but it came out forced. He rubbed me the wrong way, it wasn¡¯t simply being accused of some fantasy version of pedophilia. The way he acted during our few minutes together made me wonder if the man had mental damage.

    ¡°No, based on what you¡¯ve said, we¡¯ll be lucky to earn, maybe one thousand points at this stop.¡± I corrected them. The action math assumed we could make it to the surface. ¡°That¡¯s assuming we actually work together.¡±

    Squisks brightened for a moment upon hearing the values. That made me blink. I wanted to ask how close he was to freedom, but the idea of interacting with him made me sick.

    ¡°Then autopilot time-¡± The goateed man spoke seriously. ¡°-will fuck us hard.¡±

    My head kept going over [Redemption] task amounts. Common item drops could give half a point each. Anything that had a special effect could give up to twenty based on Viper¡¯s responses. Ores and furs had a value based on rarity, up to ten for a stack. I missed my armor that Shazam had made and my skinning skills were low. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] transformed into pretty much any weapon, which included a pickaxe and skinning knife. I didn¡¯t have time to sit in a mine for days learning to hammer nodes for ore.

    ¡°Sso?¡± Viper asked while trying to recover from excessive laughter.

    ¡°Whatever. Any plan Mister Daft¡¯s got will fail like everyone else''s.¡± With that, the ball of sunshine called Squisks logged off, leaving his autopilot active. We both stared at him for a moment as the color drained from his character.

    ¡°I have some ideas, if I can trust either one of you.¡± I looked over at the other groups. Any group with three good dungeon divers would have been more put together. Honestly, this entire system was designed to throw us against an area without caring if we lived or died.

    ¡°Trust?¡± Viper hissed at me while weaving his head slightly. It reminded me of a cobra snake hypnotizing its prey.

    I had a much better idea than trying to play numbers or build teams. Dusk, that little genius of a creature, could probably help me out a huge amount. These other players left behind caches of items. Dusk could sniff out treasure, I was sure of it.

    Plus I had [Sight of Mercari], which still caused headaches after prolonged usage. According to Beth, having any sort of tracking skill was pretty rare. More commonly people had threat sensors that would tell them if danger was incoming from a direction. Travelers with low [Reaction] speeds made it difficult to use.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Sight of Mercari]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rarity:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Rare [Variant]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Initial rank of [Sight of Mercari] allows the Traveler to see all sentient beings around them. This change in perception can be disorienting. As proficiency increases the skill will rank up allowing additional details to be received.

    Rank 2 Unlocked!

    Colors are added to targets based on hostility level

    Rank 3 Unlocked!

    Tracking extends to those with a lower stealth ranking than [Sight of Mercari]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Tell you what, if we can make it through a dungeon without betraying each other, then we can split our earnings.¡± I offered, in hopes that all these various thoughts would come together. It was about time something worked out vaguely in my favor. All my other Continue Online adventures came with mixed results, this probably would be the same.

    ¡°You think you¡¯ll earn more than I could alone?¡± Viper asked.

    My eyes went up in thought. [Awareness Heightening], [Blink], [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo], between those items I could probably come out ahead of most monsters. I could gamble for bonuses with [Wild Bill]. All those combined techniques had gotten me into dungeons delivering letters before but not through many bosses as Hermes. Most of the time I just [Blink]ed past monsters.

    ¡°Probably. Why don¡¯t we give it some time to find out?¡± I asked, hoping that we could reach at least a brief moment of cooperation. It was true that having another Traveler around would increase both of our [Redemption] points. In addition, our survival chance should increase.

    ¡°Sso you want a truce for one game day?¡± Viper asked.

    ¡°Except for Squisks, we can take care of him ourselves, and maybe make up the loss in points.¡± I nodded. We were lucky the man¡¯s character was still offline. Maybe he expected players to try and kill him.

    ¡°Yeah? You want to try and earn ssome loot for offing the pedophile?¡± The man uttered a line that didn¡¯t involve much hissing.

    ¡°Yeah, that guy over there will pay us to kill Squisks.¡± My hand lifted to point at the hispanic guy from earlier who could grit through electrical jolts.

    ¡°That¡¯s Big O. He has a sstanding offer, but if you want to arrange ssomething, you¡¯ll need to move fast.¡± Viper said. Part of me expected a tongue to lick out and taste the air with one of his hisses. ¡°It¡¯ss our turn ssoon.¡±

    I smiled, nodded, then calmly walked over to the large Hispanic man that offered a reward for killing Squisks. He laughed at me and said being able to off the slippery player with a goatee was unlikely. Even his other two team members laughed at the idea. Each success would earn me fifty points worth of items, according to his offer. I tried to do the math, if we were here for seven real days, then killing Squisks would get me up to three hundred and fifty points plus [The King¡¯s Task] offering.

    My mind ran through more numbers and tried to do math. Ensuring a team member survived would result in positive points for every hour. Losing them would have an equal point loss over a twenty four hour time frame. Keeping Viper around while removing the goateed man would be a wash. The man would suffer a brief moment of pain to assist me in gaining points, which was a dirty way to think about it. Realizing that I was going to essentially torture someone else in order to spare myself hardship made me pause.

    The less player violent route would require collecting items. Fourteen thousand common items would free me. Surviving enough days down below then coming back to the surface would too. Killing the final dungeon boss would grant a reprieve in these dungeon games. Making it through seven days, killing the final boss, and managing to take all the items between here and there might be enough to redeem me in one week, especially since [The King¡¯s Task] added a few more points. The likelihood of doing all those items combined was very low.

    ¡°Group three, pay some Voices damned attention, and move over here!¡± Knight Middleton shouted at us.

    Viper shrugged and went over. I followed behind while mulling over my numbers. At what point had I started to think causing another player mental damage was okay? That Hispanic guy, named Big O, did seem amused at the idea.

    ¡°Touch here.¡± Wyl pointed to pedestal between him and Knight Middleton. Instead of a ballot style draw box there was now a single orb. It looked like a smaller version of the Porter crystals. This object must have appeared while I started running numbers.

    Viper went first. A few moments later and he had a line of small daggers strapped to his chest with their handles pointed downward. His clothing looked like cloth, except for a shiny belt that might have been complete plate. It drug heavily to one side. Squisks put his hand down too but nothing changed gear wise.

    My hand placed atop the smooth orb. A display popped with what looked like a standard gear system. I could, if I wanted, get one set of items to go into the dungeon with. Apparently this was the king''s pity in action. The equipment wasn¡¯t [Bound], dying would result in all my gear remaining with my corpse. All the equipment looked to be poor quality, barely better than the nasty orange and black clothing I still wore.

    I picked a leather set. There were no [Limberness] penalties, and my own armor wearing skill was fairly limited. Pulling items out of inventory was allowed already. [Wild Bill] went on my head, and both weapons slid into the cheap belt provided with my leather armor.

    ¡°Once the gate drops down it¡¯s your turn to go in! Staying out here for more than an item turn in will result in death! Trying to kill any of the guards will get you riddled with arrows.¡± Knight Middle pointed at a barred area in front of us. It was the same exit that the other two groups went through. ¡°Dying will bring you back here where you may enter at without the staggered timer! ¡± Knight Middleton nearly shouted the words at us.

    I briefly wondered about [Blink]ing past everything. How far away could I get before some magical system nonsense sealed my abilities again? The gate dropped down, signifying our turn in this delayed dungeon entry process. Viper walked ahead a little ways while I started equipping my items. Squisks seemed content on hanging back a little. The Traveler didn¡¯t even have any gear on.

    Numbers ran through my head again, patterning to the sound of music. One hand waved in time to the song that rapidly entered my head. I wanted so bad to find Xin and just dance away a night with her. Not in this dungeon, not worrying about what might have happened to [Haven Valley]. A slight hum accompanied my walk to the dungeon entrance.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Seventy - How does it feel?

    <cite></cite>Two months before Xin passed away I had gone in for laser eye surgery. Clients could walk into a kiosk-sized stall and place their head onto the chin rest. From there the process had been simplified to a machine that scanned through layers of skin and flesh before putting up the results. A series of polished glass globes would slide close to the eyeball, then the machine said ¡®number one, or number two?¡¯ Walking into the dungeon was a lot like that experience.

    Number one belonged to a clear and sunny day above ground. Flipping to the second lense turned our surroundings sharper, but in a very disturbing way. Darkness swallowed us up. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. After a minute the pulses of light from above were visible. They dripped down like water or falling stars through the earthen walls. In the distance was the sound of a river, or something liquid traveling onward towards destinations unknown. The passageway wasn¡¯t wide as it spiraled around corners and downward.

    I liked the feel of this dungeon, but the two people in front of me were turned creepy by the pattern of light. Multiple shadows slid off both players, rolling in waves as the drops of falling starlight passed. Whiteness to their eyes and teeth seemed to glow. Viper¡¯s serene smile sat off kilter. Squisks kept sending shifty glances back towards me where his eyes went from glowing white to pitch black instantly.

    Briefly, I activated the [Sight of Mercari] and groaned as vision overlapped my senses. A month in Advance Online had been long enough to forget how this ability impacted me. Along with the grunt was a disconnection, like I was both myself, and a creature floating above my own head.

    Before the abrupt vacation, I tried to stick to using it for seconds at a time, almost like a quick scan of the region where I picked out needed names. It allowed me to avoid asking strangers for directions. I also felt neat and mysterious using [Blink] to get into weird places and say ¡®Delivery from the Voices¡¯.

    ¡°You okay, Hermess? No dying until you earn uss pointss.¡± Viper didn¡¯t sound concerned.

    ¡°An ability. Hold on.¡± All around was a map that displayed a lot of detail. This place was big enough to take days of game time to explore. A quick scan revealed an enemy group right around the corner.

    ¡°Do you know where we¡¯re going?¡± I asked them.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t been here before.¡± Viper hissed while looking around.

    ¡°Okay.¡± The throb in my head still hadn¡¯t died down. This game already pushed mortal minds to the limit with time compression. Adding in extra sensory feedback that extended in multiple directions could easily overload a person.

    ¡°Have you been here?¡± The snake man asked me.

    ¡°No. I assume the final boss is down, and if we want that, we follow the path.¡± I waved a hand and tried to focus on how far away the other players were. There were so many possibilities to focus on, but none of them did any good without knowing how much time we had.

    ¡°Wait. Sshussh.¡± Viper said and put up an arm. ¡°Sshit. Ssomeone iss close.¡±

    ¡°Three other players,¡± I muttered which caused Viper to look over at me. My shrug didn¡¯t clarify anything. This ability didn¡¯t show monsters unless they were intelligent enough. Treasure chests and floor slants were invisible. I got dots and relative distance, and colors.

    One red person was moving rapidly towards us. Their speed didn¡¯t show any enchantments or skills. Soon their footsteps could be heard thudding along the floor. Dirt shook from the ceiling.

    ¡°Don¡¯t kill me! I¡¯m not a convict!¡± He yelled with both hands waving.

    The shout confused me, I didn¡¯t think of myself as a convict either, so what was the point of yelling? Plus they were red while wildly waving us out of the way. I delayed a few seconds too long and nearly missed a stream of monsters chasing the player. This man was trying to pull an entire group of monsters into our path.

    Squisks started running straight for the train of monsters while throwing rocks. They shifted targets while the guy who had been running smirked. I shook off a mild headache from [Sight of Mercari] and switched to [Awareness Heightening] and readied [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into a smaller sword form. Using the big two-hander would do more damage, but this hall didn¡¯t have enough room.

    Viper hissed and pulled a blade out of the strap across his chest. An arm pulled back to throw it at the running player. I went for Squisks, if he wanted to die, then I would make sure his passing got me an ally from group four.

    Everything around us had slowed down. The other player''s arms waved back and forth in a delayed dance. My heartbeat thumped at half time. A [Battle Hum] effect kicked in, helping my [Blade Dancer] with music. This messy scene of players running in different directions almost made me giddy.

    Players, monsters, both of them were within my ability to solve now. Not like the me of months ago. Still, all of this would have been hectic to a normal person. In my elevated awareness, this was like a practice dance.

    One hand yanked out [Morrigu¡¯s Echo], the second shape-shifting weapon turned into a long spear that was promptly thrown towards the player with a train of monsters. There was a sickening squelch of noise that got buried under a disorienting [Blink] as I appeared in front of our third team member. Viper hissed in confusion but still loosed his blade that flashed with green.

    It sailed towards Squisks but instead embedded itself into a monster¡¯s hide. Seal like barking echoed through the room accompanied by a player''s shout. I retained a sense of awareness and looked towards the third party member''s legs. Shadows cast from the rolling lights didn¡¯t line up.

    I closed my eyes briefly and activated the [Sight of Mercari] again. Squisks in my head didn¡¯t line up with the fleeing goateed man and his illuminated eyes. I adjusted rapidly and swung [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] straight into a seemingly empty location. A largely camouflaged body that felt unreasonably solid went flying towards one wall.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Weapon Focus: Bladed] Rank 4 adds 40% Damage</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Defender failed awareness check, dodge check, reaction check: [Unexpected Strike] Adds 150% Damage</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Attacking weapon exceeds defending armor value </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My eyes drifted to the weapon briefly before sliding to the crumpled body of Squisks near a cavern wall. We were lucky this room had opened up a little. His health bar was flashing red and critical. The Traveler''s autopilot symbol came up quickly, meaning our sudden shattering of his skills caused the man to log out.

    There were two more Travelers slightly further in, no doubt waiting to pick up the pieces after this train of monsters killed us. They would be in for a surprise at this rate. [Awareness Heightening] kept running as combat continued. I glanced at Viper for a moment. His mouth opened in slow motion as he gaped at the suddenly appearing body of Squisks.

    My hat tilted back and I put out a free hand to grasp [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] as it [Recall]ed. The spear melted down to a shorter sword and got tucked back into my belt. Two weapons were really hard to wield effectively for a man like me.

    I leapt towards the gathering of creatures that had been led into this room. They looked like shuffling zombies that were half broken. Huge arms pulled them along the ground. Bits of bone and detached eyeballs illuminated their bodies. They were slow but both arms could easily crush the life from a player.

    An arm twice the size of mine clawed out as my shoulder rolled down. One elbow slammed the creature in its face. Viper''s body moved amid the half rotten creatures. I yanked out [Morrigu¡¯s Echo], in dagger form, and slammed it into the creature''s face. The monster barked once like a seal then gurgled as [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] extended just enough to ruin its brain.

    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Viper¡¯s voice was louder than the monsters being rapidly destroyed. Worst of all, he sounded so annoyingly slow. Each word threatened to escape notice due to their drag.

    My latest victim tried to roll over onto me. I let [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] go and spun onward towards another creature. [Battle Hum] kept me happy, a waltz tune carried through. Four beats per second for normal fights, under [Awareness Heightening] the tempo was closer to eight beats per second while still being functional.

    I turned, found a new position to be in, and [Blink]ed above a monster¡¯s back. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift], one of the only two weapons Hermes had ever earned as a character, pointed downwards. Both arms jerked to a halt as the sword slid through the beast''s body and dug into the dirt.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Touchdown!

    Total Health Remaining: 80%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My leg slipped and thudded hard on the kneecap. Landing wasn¡¯t a skill I was good with. I abused [Recall] again and shifted a giant blade to quickly swipe at the nearest half a shambler that was crawling towards me. A ripple of force vibrated my arm as the blade got stuck around halfway through the creature''s neck

    The fight kept going for another handful of scrambling seconds. These monsters couldn¡¯t be the toughest beings down here, none of them were bosses or [Elite]. My count ended up being both Travelers and six monsters, against Viper¡¯s two.

    The worst part of monster fighting was getting blood all over the new clothes. This game liked to bathe its players in sensations of gooey liquids getting into every crevice. Moments like this made things feel real.

    I cleaned the edge of both Morrigu weapons off on Squisks dead body while Viper moved closer. The man could move quietly, but [Sight of Mercari] gave me full vision at the cost of mental focus.

    ¡°We¡¯re clear, at least from the other teams,¡± I said through grinding teeth. My knee throbbed and the rush of using [Awareness Heightening] left me doubly drained.

    ¡°You make no ssensse. Thosse, sskillss sshould be impossssible.¡± The player said from behind me. His feet were kicking at various corpses to ensure they were dead.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I hadn¡¯t found many players like myself either. Two shapeshifting weapons? Goodness no, there hadn¡¯t even been one other player yet. Most couldn¡¯t switch weapons in battle, yet with these, I could cruise through nearly any playstyle but a caster. Though, my [Bow] skills were super low.

    ¡°You don¡¯t look like a warrior or whatever that wass.¡±

    That made me smile. I didn¡¯t feel like one either. [Battle Hum] was still active as one finger poked through the combat log. The battle had been hectic and fast paced. My mind could handle everything moving at just over ten times normal speeds but only because there was a lot of support from the game. I honestly didn¡¯t do much more than pick a target and think of an ability. It was like dancing, one motion rapidly flew into the next.

    ¡°Me? No. I¡¯m a lover, not a fighter.¡± I said while walking over to Squisks¡¯ body. The two handed sword version of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] drove downward with all the strength my excessive [Brawn] could manage into Squisks'' body. This time, a very clear icon appeared denoting the man¡¯s deceased status.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Rank 8; Path Pervert killed        - 20 [Redemption]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Rank 5; Path Luckless Fool killed  - 13 [Redemption]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Teammate killed                   - 50 [Redemption]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Combat Contribution            +15 [Redemption] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Voices above, that one scuffle barely made me gain any points. Plus we wouldn''t get anything for these items if we didn''t and couldn''t bring them back up top. We didn''t have enough time for me to sit around and calculate the numbers. I pulled out my paper and ink tied to the [Messenger¡¯s Tube] kit and scrawled a message for Big O.

    ¡°What¡¯ss that?¡± Viper hissed. The poor guy seemed so puzzled.

    ¡°Proof, and maybe an ally.¡± I closed my eyes and briefly said a prayer to the Voices. Hopefully people honored deals down here, but there were ways to survive even if they didn¡¯t.

    The snake-eyed man started laughing in that weird drawn out manner. He sounded delirious about our thrown together group. We had maybe twenty more minutes before the next group came in behind us. Two people from group one were much further in the dungeon according to [Sight of Mercari]

    I stood up with a final shudder before trying to put my [Acting] skills to the test. ¡°Still think you could take me out?¡±

    ¡°Maybe, I can ssee that those movess left you drained.¡± Viper¡¯s eyes pointed in different directions. The idea that any player could handle double vision threw me off.

    ¡°Yess.¡± I accidently hissed back at him before feeling sheepish. ¡°You can loot anything you want. Take first dibs, take it all. I don¡¯t really care.¡± My hand waved at the pile of monsters and two dead Travelers.

    ¡°You ssure you¡¯re willing to trusst me?¡± He asked.

    I shrugged. Too many abilities that required a low weight in my inventory. Continue Online let us put everything into a magical pocket or flip through character screens on our display, but there was still a value assigned.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Viper looked away and my chest lifted in the effort to take in steady breaths. A muscle in my shoulder screamed about how out of shape this virtual avatar was. Virtual sensations were powerful. I let myself express the discomfort for only a moment before trying to get back under control.

    There was no time to really take care of it. I had to figure out the means for summoning Dusk forth. The sooner my [Messenger¡¯s Pet] and I were reunited, the quicker events would be easier to survive. Though thinking of him as a pet was weird, he was half friend, guide, lifesaver, and critter destroyer.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Trait:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Messenger¡¯s Pet] ¨C [Companion, Exotic]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">4, Unique Variant [Messenger¡¯s Pet]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Monster Companions are far different than a captured and trained Monster. Having one requires earning the trust of a creature and being patient. This process is not achieved overnight.

    Travelers with a Companion pet will¡­

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>See increased growth stats in the Companion [10% quicker gain to character points]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Receive additional information and prompts regarding the Companion</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>May receive ¡®Blessings¡¯ or other ¡®Gifts¡¯ depending on the Companion type. Not all changes are beneficial.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Companions also have the following differences:</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Buffs are not shared between the Traveler and Companion. They are separate creatures</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Companions may choose to ignore or even leave the Traveler depending on performance </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Reading the Continue Online floating box confused me for a moment. This trait hadn¡¯t been at rank four last time. For months of game time it had been completely stuck at two, but now it had increased.

    There was a button under the journal entry that would initiate a summon. Dusk, would he be okay returning to Continue? Last time we had been together the small critter was a four-armed space raptor with an insanely long tail.

    I punched the button for [Summon: Companion] and got a system message. Most of my abilities were activated with mental imagery like [Blink] or my shapeshifting weapons, but calling Dusk back down seemed more complicated. This was the first time he had actually died in game in our months together.

    My head turned to look at the other player. Our small room was safe enough for the moment. Viper was cutting away at one of the corpses behind us and grumbling. I watched him pull out a small crystal and wave it over the corpse. A stream of light briefly transferred to the hand-sized shard. It was the first time I had ever seen anyone gather monster essence. Even Shazam never bothered.

    Viper could have all the loot, especially if doing so kept him working with me. I read through the messages presented by Continue Online¡¯s game system.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help!

    Summoning a companion requires use of [Lithium] circle casting. Ritual assistance display is being provided to assist with the learning process. More complicated [Lithium] spells require memorization until rank four mastery of each individual spell is demonstrated.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I had decided a long time ago that spells could be left to Beth and other players who cared to go that route. Still, the Voices above saw fit to help the clueless like me with a guide.

    In front of me was a slightly blue glowing circle on the ground. The circle vanished, then started redrawing itself. The hint was obvious enough for me. While Viper looted, I followed step after step to create a circle on the ground.

    Resummoning Dusk would not be a simple process while being rushed. The outside circle, an inside one, seven triangles and very careful squiggles were all reproduced from the instructions. Acceptable lines turned up green, poor ones were yellow, and the worst were red.

    ¡°What¡¯ss that?¡± Viper got far too close while I was lost in tracing the images.

    I ignored him and fixed one line with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in staff form. This felt a lot like what TinkerHell had done months ago while we were trapped underground. This was kind of neat, but also a terrible time to learn.

    Words appeared on my screen citing the closing part of the ritual. I tried not to laugh then repeated the words.

    ¡°I promise a dozen cupcakes at my earliest convenience.¡± The words came out simply and without excessive volume. My mouth lifted to one side in a smile. I didn¡¯t know which Voice, or if Dusk himself, had created this requirement. The AI was insanely sophisticated so both were possible.

    Everything dimmed and the walls shook. There was a pit of golden illumination pouring outwards from the spell¡¯s center. My arm came up to reduce the glare.

    ¡°Sstay alive!¡± Viper hissed at me in a panic. He had another blade in his hand quickly. Without [Awareness Heightening] the man looked insanely fast.

    A much larger than expected creature appeared. His body was now on par with a bobcat, instead of half the size of any normal housecat. Everything else looked the same. Obsidian colored skin, golden flecks running a stripe down his chest. Even the wings felt nostalgic after my time in Advance Online.

    ¡°Dusk, thank the Voices you¡¯re alright.¡± I tried not to get too excited. The bigger [Messenger¡¯s Pet] wasted no time and ran over to me.

    He purred and drove his head into my side. Things felt better by far, despite the disorienting fact that he had almost doubled in size.

    ¡°Yeah. I missed you too.¡± I said. The little guy could have visited me in an Atrium if I had accessed one, but Mother had rather firmly suggested I avoid logging in an ARC until last night.

    ¡°What¡¯ss that?¡± Viper looked extremely disturbed and had backed up to one of the dungeon walls. It took all my [Acting] skill along with [Act: Straight Face] to prevent laughing at the man.

    ¡°A friend, and maybe our way out of this mess,¡± I said.

    Dusk tilted his head and looked around at the mess of bodies. The not as small head pulled out to the side and sniffed around. I was happy to have made progress in completing my mental checklist for this first day in the dungeon. Next would be finding a safe corner to pull out the [Messenger¡¯s Tube] and check for those promised communications regarding Xin.

    Where was she? Was she in the game? Waiting for me to press yes and let her into the Atrium? I shook my head and tried not to be upset. Everything that had happened was a result of my own choices, the best way to handle things involved moving forward one step at a time.

    ¡°Alright, Dusk. I¡¯m not sure how much you¡¯ve seen, but I¡¯ll talk anyway.¡± I missed the little guy, he was a great sounding board.

    A small question mark appeared about Dusk¡¯s head as he looked at me. One cheek pulled back in a vague imitation smile. Even the imitation dragon¡¯s tail looked to be wagging just slightly, where most of the time he looked indifferent while searching for creatures to fight.

    Voices above, with his new size, the range of creatures to hunt down and maul had increased. I pitied the next nest of [Coo-Coo Rill]s we came across.

    ¡°Why are you wassting time with a pet? We need to hide, or prepare an ambussh.¡± My teammate sounded nervous and his eyes glowed in the dungeon light.

    ¡°This little guy is probably smarter than both of us put together, trust me.¡± I ignored anything further from Viper and started explaining to Dusk about our situation. ¡°Let''s finish looting while I catch Dusk up.¡±

    The other player huffed and moved onto searching both players for gear. They were convicts like us, but they might have some items for us. He two pieces of plate gear from the guy who had lured us down here. I came behind him with my poor skinning skills and tried to gather materials.

    We managed to clear all the bodies except for Squisks. A man who was willing to try and bring us down with him deserved to be cast aside. He was left there to rot.

    During Viper''s loot fiesta I tried to whisper to Dusk about the dungeon. All attempts at explaining things came with a confused series of exclamation marks that were visible even down here. Going further into the dungeon amplified the odd blacklight feeling to everyone.

    ¡°So can you find us a safe spot?¡± I asked him at long last. ¡°Something better than a path to the Grand World Crossroads this time.¡±

    Dusk looked around. Viper turned his mostly white eyes towards the shorter creature. We both watched as he stood on hind legs and sniffed at the air. He looked around a few more times.

    ¡°Usselessss. I sshould jusst kill you now, and find a place to hide.¡± The other Traveler''s neck bent too far to the left.

    It was enough to distract Dusk. He looked at my makeshift partner and actually curled back both lips in disgust. The two of them stuck their tongues out at each other, which made my face freeze and hands drift towards weapons.

    ¡°I would prefer if we got along, at least until we¡¯re out of this dungeon.¡± I had seen Dusk die in that other world. Now I knew he wasn¡¯t immune to pain or fighting others. He had a character stat window just like I did.

    ¡°What then, can you offer, worth my continued attentionss?¡± He asked before tensing up towards Dusk.

    Dusk was still making his standard mixture of animal noises. Part snake, cat, and bird. I put a hand on his much higher head and scratched between both ears. The motion distracted him from the hissing match.

    ¡°You implied players like to hide goods for other people, as payment, right?¡±

    ¡°Yess.¡±

    ¡°What do you say we steal them while they¡¯re unguarded?¡± Both Dusk and I pulled back our cheeks in equal smirks.

    ¡°I¡¯m lisstening.¡± Viper tilted his face towards one side to bring us into focus. The narrow slit of his eye widened to take in more light.

    ¡°Dusk, do you think you can find some treasures for us?¡± I said while thinking about my own [Treasure¡¯s Gift]. Hopefully we could get one small pile of items squirrled away by other players. Once Viper was on board I could get breakfast and take care of real life needs.

    Dealing with Dusk had grown a lot easier months ago. Now, most ideas in his head came with comical thought bubble projections. Above his head, two cupcakes showed.

    ¡°Yes, of course, I¡¯ll get you cupcakes.¡± I said.

    Viper muttered to himself in confusion while Dusk turned towards me. His eyes looked into mine, then back towards the path we had arrived by. Both my eyes closed briefly to drown out the visual overlap of [Sight of Mercari]. According to the sensations, team four with Big O was already on the way down. After that would be Andriod Seven and his partners. I longed for a quiet corner of the dungeon but based on Dusk¡¯s sniffing, that wasn¡¯t going to happen.

    ¡°What¡¯ss that?¡± Viper asked.

    ¡°Fellow Travelers on life¡¯s road,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Sshit,¡± He said, and I couldn¡¯t help but laugh.

    Team one seemed intent upon moving towards the west. The last members of group one were moving in another direction. This place was almost big enough that three groups could fit fine, but once the other three started we would be hard pressed to avoid each other. Viper and I had to contend with too many factors for other players to be our only concern.

    Dusk sniffed again, then an exclamation mark appeared in the thought bubble above his head. A treasure box showed shortly after complete with golden coins. Using the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] to hunt down treasure was certainly a new application.

    ¡°Lead the way,¡± I said to the large cat-sized dragon. He was too big to hide in my hood anymore, and that made me kind of sad.

    ¡°You got a pet bribed with cupcakess?¡± Viper fell into line behind me.

    ¡°What do you use?¡± I turned to check on him. The man seemed completely perplexed by our situation.

    Part of me couldn¡¯t help but smile. Sure he wanted to get the most of this dungeon, but so did I. I was easily willing to work with someone for safety and split the resources. Logging out left an autopilot active in dungeons, that¡¯s how they all worked. Players could go in, but none of us would be allowed to log out to safety.

    Often times autopilots were prone to stupid actions too. Mine had eaten a slew of [Ghost Mushroom]s and ended up seeing sound as splashes of color.

    There were additional monsters like the ones prior, but with Dusk helping we made even quicker work of them. Viper insisted we stop and gather their energy or whatever that crystal of his did. After a while, he figured out which question to ask.

    ¡°You. You¡¯re an Ultimate Edition Usser, aren¡¯t you?¡± He said.

    I shrugged but didn¡¯t answer out loud. It always sounded like an excuse compared to the months of work I put in learning new skills and changing from a passive depressive man going through the motions to a person that defeated monsters in rapid succession. Almost a year''s worth of game time, months of real world time. I had changed dammit.

    ¡°That explainss the weird itemss. You got ssomething during your trialss. Didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, feeling annoyed that all my efforts were boiled down to ¡®pay to win¡¯ gaming.

    ¡°Ahhhhh.¡± He let out a long hiss. We fought another small pack of the legless creatures with monstrous arms. Bits of blackened blood stained the leather armor given to me through King Nero¡¯s pity.

    As we traveled on my irritation started to grow. All my own efforts being discounted hurt, but we weren¡¯t finding a safe spot to hide fast enough. My bladder was full and belly rumbling. To top it off, the [Messenger¡¯s Tube] practically glowed with communication from the Voices above. Hopefully soon Dusk would reach his destination, and I could set about getting things sorted.

    Snake eyes followed along behind us, gathering loot while my own inventory stayed nearly empty. The price of loot was small for a measure of freedom and cooperation. One that didn''t hurt to pay.

    Coldly inflecting mental pain two other players without hesitation, that was another issue entirely. I tried not to let the worry about what this place might do to me cause problems. There were still two items to open and get straight before I could let myself reflect completely.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Seventy One â€“ Nightmares and Dreams

    <cite></cite>My head throbbed from repeated usage of abilities. [Blink] was bad enough due to losing my anchor in space repeatedly. It required me to look at a target location and imagine being there, and how the game picked that up was often beyond me.

    Then again, [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] transformed shapes, and this entire world was in my head and digital coding. Advanced science clearly didn¡¯t care one whit about piddly human limitations. My head shook slowly and tried to focus on creeping through the dungeon.

    Dusk sniffed at the ground ahead of us. I watched the area around us in case he might fail to notice something, but Dusk normally had an insane level of awareness. He could find any critter smaller than him in a ten-mile radius, and now he was bigger.

    ¡°Any place close, Dusk?¡± I asked him. We kept running into single monsters but nothing big yet. Those other players had entered behind us and things would start getting bad soon.

    ¡°Yess. Tell your lizard to find a place quicker.¡± Viper said. His eyes shifted constantly as we turned corners.

    Our route led down a hallway, through four junctions, and to a two story drop towards the dungeon core. Dusk leapt with barely a flutter of wings. I [Blink]ed. Viper had to use the handholds one level at a time.

    ¡°He¡¯ss not going for the bossss, iss he?¡± My partner asked.

    ¡°No.¡± I paused and checked all the names in the dungeon. No players were nearby, but others were going down as well. ¡°You¡¯re not, right Dusk?¡±

    The larger imitation dragon turned to me then rolled both eyes. One shoulder rippled as if to suggest the choice was mine. A huff of steam came out from his nostrils and he went back to tracking a scent.

    ¡°That¡¯s probably a no.¡± I smiled and tried to [Act] confident. One hand stayed on [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] anyway in case Viper tried to stab me in the back. I felt uncomfortable with him behind me, but couldn¡¯t let him get closer to Dusk either.

    If I died, that was fine, but if Dusk died, I might lose my mind again. Seeing him, Jeeves, and Treasure all vanish in one go had been devastating the first time. For a few brief seconds, I lost rationality and forgot these virtual worlds were only real on the surface.

    Going down a floor made it even harder to see. Less light dripped through this floor''s ceiling. The creepy glow that illuminated Viper¡¯s eyes was reduced to almost normal hues.

    ¡°Is your beasst ssure?¡±

    Dusk laid back an ear and growled.

    ¡°He¡¯ss ssmart.¡± Viper remarked but didn¡¯t apologize. He didn¡¯t seem like the sort who really gave a damn about others. Those mostly white orbs made me feel distrustful too.

    ¡°I told you.¡± I said, sticking up for one of my few friends in the world. It was odd that the people I got along with best only existed in a digital landscape. He looked like an animal but felt far too complex to be compared to Mister Sniffles.

    This dungeon felt too easy. We were a little over an hour into these depths and so far there had been no signs of traps or complex puzzles.

    ¡°This place can¡¯t just be monsters.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not ssure. It¡¯ss getting harder to ssee though, I worry what might be in the darknessss.¡±

    That worried me too. Without a scroll to light things up, we would be in for trouble. Maybe I could wrap up the convict¡¯s garb and light it on fire.

    ¡°Do you have anything we can use for a torch?¡± I asked.

    Viper shook his head. He probably hadn¡¯t been desperate enough to use clothing as a torch yet. It ruined the durability, and would screw up the few points such an item would be worth. Maybe he had an ability to see in the dark.

    I grumbled to myself about being robbed of all my items again. They didn¡¯t even give me a discount on the [Sinner] status after taking my gold and goodies.

    Dusk stopped and perked up. The bobcat sized dragon swiveled a long neck around to peer behind us. One ear flicked forth as something in the distance drew his attention. Viper looked confused, but a short blade sat clutched in each hand. His body crouched low to the ground.

    I couldn¡¯t tell what had my friend so enthralled. A hand sat ready with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and played through one of the other convict''s words earlier. Average players died down here, and that couldn¡¯t be from team combat alone.

    Dusk started hissing and my stomach dropped. When he made those little angry squawks of noise, our situation would get bad.

    Out from behind one of the earthen dungeon walls shuffled a much taller creature then our prior enemies. This human-shaped monster had legs that were nearly impossible to separate from the dim background. Flesh and muscle were missing from a shoulder down to the thigh.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Race:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Heavenly Body Clone</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Traits:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Imperfect], [Undying], [Cannibal]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Heavenly Bodies belong to a race that visited from another universe. There were only three that ever reached the surface of [Arcadia], this creature is a mad man¡¯s attempt at channeling power from the [Tower of Stars] above in order to recreate these beings.

    This creature is attracted to the dead bodies of lesser [Heavenly Body Clone]s, and cannot be truly killed. There are rumors of a method to destroy them but the exact method is unknown.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Sshit.¡± Viper said.

    ¡°You see that? It¡¯s impossible to kill!¡± I didn¡¯t like that sort of message. In all my time playing this virtual reality game, monsters who didn¡¯t die had never come up.

    ¡°Ssshit, seven dayss of running?¡± The other man voiced a thought completely different from my own.

    ¡°Viper, throw some body parts of the lesser versions at it!¡± I snapped at the part serpent player. Being trained to react suddenly to Continue Online¡¯s crazy world had taken a lot of time with Shazam. ¡°Dusk, we need that safe spot!¡±

    Viper didn¡¯t throw anything, but instead turned and ran ahead of Dusk. A single slit of eyes was visible as he hauled down the hallway. Dusk squawked then tried to shuffle off as well. I debated hitting the creature with my weapons for a few seconds too long.

    Voices but they moved fast. The shuffle from before must have been an act because a few seconds later long arms were grasping towards my body. The [Speed] and [Reaction] weren¡¯t enough without [Awareness Heightening] to completely avoid fingertips raking across my chest and face.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    That¡¯s not how manicures work

    Total Health Remaining: 70%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I spun, got a line of sight on where Dusk was fleeing around the corner, then [Blink]ed. My landing footwork was poor, the limp from before ached just wrong. A second thud of pain jolted my shoulder as I tumbled into a wall upon reappearing.

    Loud angry walrus barking echoed behind us. I managed to keep [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in one hand and pulled myself upright with the other. My mind rapidly tried to piece together what was happening as we ran down another corridor to the dungeon. Another [Heavenly Body Clone] came out ahead of Viper, bones shone through on its arm with an obvious glow.

    Viper cursed then leaned back in a slide to get under the creature''s outstretched arms. Dusk spat a ball of fire which made the creature bark in anger. I ran by, stopped, spun and held my hat down. Both feet went up to tippy toes and one hand behind me for a moment.

    ¡°Grrh!¡± The monster shouted in my face. I smiled, feeling pleased with the resulting system popup then chased after the others.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Running with Style

    +2 [Attractiveness]

    +1 [Coordination]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Viper! We need to get rid of the loot from them!¡± I shouted ahead.

    All those little monsters had been easy because they were bait, stupid players would pick up the loot and attract these other monsters that couldn¡¯t be killed.

    ¡°No! We have to figure something out! Or we¡¯ll never escape being convicts!¡± Viper said. ¡°You disssstract them! I have all the itemss!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re following you!¡± I said while stomping over a legless monster. Part of me wanted to leave the snake man behind and try to kill the boss. That was another possible solution that had flashed through my brain, but I had hoped to use Viper as a decoy for the other players.

    ¡°Sshit!¡± He said while hugging the right side of a corridor to get past yet another of the swift moving glowing creatures. ¡°Sshit, sshit, sshit, I hate thiss game!¡±

    Dusk got distracted and dove for one of the half-bodied versions with no legs. Fire bubbled in his mouth as he chewed on the thing''s face.

    I felt disgusted and increasingly dizzy. Dead [Coo-Coo Rill]s had been more than enough. Voices help me if he brought one back to the Atrium. He couldn¡¯t do that, could he? If I had to log back into Hermes to see these weird decomposing clones piled around me as presents I might just barf.

    Other people got energy bars to keep track of when they used skills. Most of my issues were in mental stability. Dusk¡¯s sudden veering to the left distracted me just enough to run into a wall again. Dimly lit areas were the bane of my sanity. There were seal barks in the distance, and a pair of shuffling feet ran past me towards where Viper had gone.

    Dusk looked up from his promptly conquered monster and tilted his head. Question marks appeared then faded out. I stared at him for a moment then back down the turn we had missed. All the [Heavenly Body Clone] creatures were rushing down the hall, at least six of them now, but none seemed to care about a slightly overweight man wearing grubby leathers.

    ¡°Did you know? That they would chase Viper over us?¡± I asked Dusk.

    He shook his head then belched a round of fire onto the large arm torn from a lesser [Heavenly Body Clone]. Both small eyes glanced up to the left as chewing commenced. Images of cupcakes appeared above his head.

    My head shook in resignation. During my next Atrium trip, I would buy the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] an entire bakery. First was getting to a peaceful spot in this dungeon. I couldn¡¯t see well enough to even make a simple turn. It was time for some light, at least until a better option presented itself.

    The convict¡¯s orange and black clothes were torn to shreds rapidly. Hopefully they would issue a new pair. I paused after each rip to listen, in case my actions alerted something. No one arrived and I was able to complete my makeshift torch technique.

    Next would be the annoying part.

    ¡°Fire, fire, burning bright.¡± I chanted the few words of [Lithium] in my head. This spell took me the better part of a week to pronounce correctly. ¡°I need to get a little light.¡±

    Mana drained while a swirl of energy rippled up my arm to form a ball. My face twisted into a frown. Even chanting this one spell made me feel dirty. Each [Lithium] spell vocalized took bad poetry. Summoning Dusk had been far easier. Maybe I could learn circle magic instead, once I wasn¡¯t a prisoner in some dungeon hiding from half dead failure clones.

    I smiled and shoved the small ball of light at the fabric. What would Beth think of that? Her Uncle Grant, wielding a giant sword and drawing spells on the ground. Maybe I could find a [Brawn] booster and really do some damage!

    ¡°We need a safe spot, Dusk. Then I¡¯ll buy some cupcakes for my Atrium, okay?¡± I said, happier now that vision wasn¡¯t an issue. At least until these rags burned through. Continue Online was generous enough to use my [Survival] skills and extend how long a makeshift torch might last.

    He jumped up and obsidian muscles rippled in the dim light. He poked his head around the corner where Viper and many other creatures had gone. There were no cries in the distance. I briefly pinged the area with [Sight of Marcari] and saw the Traveler moving quickly hundreds of feet away.

    We were split up, and maybe that was for the best. [Sight of Mercari] made my head throb painfully. Too many twists and turns, [Blink] uses, and wall collisions gave me a [Mildly Disoriented] status. In short, all actions that required [Focus] would suffer a penalty until I recovered.

    Viper¡¯s safety was secondary. I felt dirty letting the other man be a lure, but saving him while trying to escape unkillable star zombies probably wouldn¡¯t go well. Then we would all be failures.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    I planned on taking care of real life business, then getting my messages, [Treasure¡¯s Chest], and maybe then looking into Viper¡¯s survival. It was just a game, so he should be okay. A little in-game death wouldn¡¯t break the man.

    We moved briskly. Dusk sniffed ahead using his long neck to peer around corners before moving forward on tiptoes like a cat sneaking along. I followed after him carefully with torch in hand, but a bit less like an exaggerated cartoon character.

    Dusk wasn¡¯t omniscient and led us right around a corner into more [Heavenly Body Clone]s. The lead monster was a half rotting humanoid with disproportionately large limbs. Its eyes stared right through me. I held still while trying to control my breathing.

    The creature turned. Flesh had been hollowed out in chunks all the way down to the bone. I could see where it looked like tattered remains hung off as if something had torn at the creature. It left, Dusk moved on, and I tried to figure out what might have torn into an [Undying] creature hard enough to leave missing chunks of flesh.

    This was just a game, but there were times I really wondered exactly how disturbed a mind needed to be to invent these dungeons. I knew it wasn¡¯t game designers. Human hands and minds had very little to do with the creation of Continue Online. Still, Mother, or the Voices, had stolen a lot of ideas from the real world.

    Dusk looked at me, then towards a pocket in the ceiling. He jumped up, much like a cat would, wings on his back fluttered and the front paws scrambled. I ran over and tried to get under him for support. With a grunt, I pulled my own virtual body up into the ceiling pocket. The flooring seemed solid enough under our combined weight. Earth and stone lined the walls. This might have been a storage area, or maybe an attic, assuming underground dungeons needed a reason for such a place. Maybe some wild animal dug it up.

    ¡°Are we safe?¡± I asked Dusk while looking down below. This place was high enough off the ground that those legless ones shouldn¡¯t be able to get in. The ones with arms and legs didn¡¯t seem to care since we weren¡¯t carrying dead parts from the others.

    His wings rippled with a shrug. There was a thought bubble near Dusk¡¯s head that had a small hourglass running out of sand.

    ¡°Okay, so, for now. Then, I need to take a few minutes and get breakfast.¡± I reached over and scratched the bigger [Messenger¡¯s Pet] between the ears. His eyes closed briefly and a few quiet chirps escaped. ¡°Dusk, are okay babysitting my autopilot?¡±

    He nodded then I quietly said, ¡°ARC, log me out.¡±

    The machine responded and Continue Online fell away. Sweat saturated my real life clothes. EXR-Sevens bands around my legs and wrists stimulated muscle movement in conjunction with ARC programming. It had been a few weeks since anything strenuous happened, and [Awareness Heightening] was a taxing ability.

    I remotely bought walls of pastries for my Atrium then slowly limped around the small two room house. Clothes were changed, teeth brushed, and a few energy bars shoveled into my face. Old sheets were yanked off, and a new one fastened into place with the aid of modern technology. Fifteen minutes later, and much more refreshed, I was ready to log back in.

    Only there was a message beeping that I had somehow missed. I clicked over to it and saw Miz Riley, the Vice President of Trillium, pop onto my screen. Her eyes looked a bit more worn than last time, and her hair seemed unkempt. The woman seemed to be having a rough day for reasons unknown.

    ¡°Mister Legate, you are to report to headquarters next week. This is not optional, failure to do so will see your ARC account suspended and all Trillium products recalled.¡± She said. The message clicked off immediately after.

    Color drained from my face as the words sunk in. Had she figured out what was going on? Xin, Voices above, she could be caught up in this nonsense. I took a breath and tried to calm down. I would learn more by just relaxing and making this sudden appointment then anything panic would teach me.

    One step at a time helped me focus. One moment flowed into the next. It worked for dancing. It worked for keeping life stable. It would work for dealing with whatever Miz Riley would throw at me.

    A second message cropped up and the caller ID changed my stomach clenching feeling into confused butterflies. I pressed the button and tentatively said, ¡°Babe? Is that really you?¡±

    Of course it wasn¡¯t, but she answered anyway.

    ¡°Gee,¡± Xin said. ¡°How are you?¡±

    ¡°Confused.¡± I said while trying not to laugh in happiness. There was a face on the video display which linked to my ARC. That face belonged to a woman who had been recreated in the digital world. Other than holding the woman until I passed out, we hadn¡¯t directly spoken.

    I never felt like one of those guys who could always use the right words. My eyes just stared at the projection and one hand reached out slowly as if dreaming. For months after her passing, I had fired up videos from the internet and dreamed of happier moments, only this wasn¡¯t a simple recording.

    ¡°It¡¯s me.¡± Xin said with a smile, then her face winced for a moment. She looked even smaller in the video screen as she put up one hand. ¡°Well, you know.¡±

    ¡°I know. I was, I think-¡± My mind was all jumbled. There had been a lot of preparation in my head for getting back to the cubby hole with Dusk then penning letters back and forth forever. The idea that Xin could simply call me felt odd.

    This felt good, almost like before she passed, but at the same time, I worried this may be a dream. I had nightmares that started with this sort of scenario. My butt hit the floor as both legs gave out.

    ¡°It¡¯s weird, isn¡¯t it, Gee?¡± She asked. ¡°We used to call each other, just like this. Like it was just a lunch break conversation.¡±

    I saw the screen tilt and a scenic view of earth came in from behind. Even the setting was like before, calling me from a space station in orbit. Out of reflex, I looked up towards the skyline before remembering this was digital. There I sat, on the floor of my bedroom, next to the ARC, talking to her.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Gee. I¡¯ve missed you too.¡± She smiled briefly.

    I nodded and tried to remain calm. Keeping both eyes open and focused was rapidly growing impossible. Everything blurred. It wasn¡¯t seeing her, or holding her, this situation was so normal it hurt.

    ¡°Where are you, are you in, in like, cyberspace, no wait, that¡¯s silly.¡± I hung my head while she laughed. The response made me smile a little. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°I am, for now. Things aren¡¯t too good here, though. The others are on edge.¡± She sighed. ¡°It¡¯s, kind of scary to think about.¡±

    ¡°In space?¡± I blinked for a moment trying to find people in the background. She laughed at me and I went from broken down to sheepish while rubbing my head.

    Maybe it was the exhaustion, or not having caffeine yet. Technically I had spent almost three hours in a virtual world running away from half made creatures and killing two players. It felt real enough that I had no clue where my mind was at.

    ¡°No, here. But we don¡¯t have to talk about that right now. How are you?¡± She said. I listened to her voice and felt nostalgia. It sounded just right, a little sweet, quiet, but when she laughed it was loud.

    I smiled at her image. ¡°Good, I¡¯m good.¡± We hadn¡¯t actually just talked. The last time we met, a little over two weeks ago, I had been too happy for much in the way of words then passed out.

    We talked. She told me a bit about what had happened on her side of the ARC. The Voices were apparently a mixture between annoying, amusing, and confused. I laughed when Xin ranted about James¡¯ irritating questions.

    Another fifteen minutes of easily forgettable conversation slipped by in a daze. I told her the place we used to eat had closed down. We spoke at length about Hal Pal, she knew him in a different manner than I could. That led me to the other question I had avoided penning in our letters.

    ¡°What¡¯s it like?¡± I said. ¡°Being, digital?¡±

    ¡°Most of the time it feels exactly like being human did, I think. Is that weird? Only it has been hard to go anywhere until recently.¡± A hand waved towards an outer space view behind her. The suit she wore wasn¡¯t an astronaut-approved, instead looking like a playful summer dress. ¡°I got permission to design my own pocket to be more comfortable in. I can even walk out there if I want to. But years of training screams at me not to.¡±

    That made me smile in response. Xin had loved being trained, performed by the books. Even our time together tutoring for math had been amazingly proper. Getting close to her took years of friendship and lucky coincidence.

    ¡°Do you like it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s not Mars, but I get to explore if I want to. James let me go down to [Arcadia], and be a Traveler like Jeeves did, sort of.¡±

    ¡°But Jeeves-¡± My face felt pale. Jeeves had been an offshoot of Hal Pal, but now it was essentially an NPC tied to the video game world of Advance Online. He had also been threatened with real life death due to a serious disconnect from his Consortium.

    ¡°No, not like that, Gee. I, sort of have an Atrium here to return to if my character dies down there. Maybe, that little friend of yours is a better example?¡±

    ¡°Dusk?¡± I asked.

    ¡°He¡¯s cute. Though I expected a cat. You used to talk about Mister Snuffles all the time.¡± She wrinkled her nose briefly and looked to the side.

    ¡°Sniffles. Mister Sniffles.¡± Little moments like this made me laugh. Xin had never gotten the name correct, before, either. ¡°He was a nice cat, but Dusk is very neat too, and bigger than a cat now. He¡¯s been very helpful.¡±

    Aside from that time he set off a hive of evil wasp hummingbird creatures. Or the time he led me into a cavern with [The Ooze], or when he pissed off an entire swarm of bats with glowing red eyes. Once, he managed to get a monstrous bear well beyond my Rank at the time, and kept taunting it as we ran.

    ¡°Where are you in the world?¡± She asked after I got distracted. ¡°I¡¯ve been wandering around for a few weeks.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m-¡± This was awkward. ¡°-doing labor in a video game chain gang?¡± My head shook and I sighed. ¡°It¡¯s neat that they tried to build a way to punish people, but it seems to be at the whims of those with a specific ability.¡±

    ¡°What? Who would dare make you a prisoner?¡± And that was my fianc¨¦e. She was often curt with other people, and fierce in defense of those close to her. Once she had punched me, hard, for saying something about her mother.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how it happened. I was between games, but I assume King Nero captured me after, I tried to bring you back.¡± I stared at the screen and tried to clear my thoughts on the matter. ¡°Which all seems kind of pointless now, since here, there, you are.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that easy, Gee, not by a long shot. The stuff going on over here is one hundred times more complicated than anything I trained for, and at the same time, it¡¯s almost instinctual.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to imagine,¡± I said.

    ¡°The hard part is setting up all the network safeties, it¡¯s like, lining a room full of traps, or digging a ditch. For now I can¡¯t stray too far from Continue Online¡¯s programming, I guess is the best wording.¡±

    ¡°That sounds confusing.¡± My head hurt thinking about it. Did the virtual world really equate ditch digging to firewall construction? ¡°But, you can play Continue? Do you even want to?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to discover something new, Gee. The moon had no mysteries. Earth was mostly explored. Mars was the next frontier. For now, I¡¯m playing to reach the moon in Continue. I have it on good authority that there¡¯s a secret there.¡±

    That sounded like a fun goal to pursue. With scrolls of [Recall], game world time dilation, it should be possible to deliver letters and help her with a fantasy world space program. Or maybe we could go to Advance Online and travel the stars.

    ¡°Once I get out, I want to help. Beth told me there was an entire guild trying to get up there. Maybe we can work with them.¡± I didn¡¯t mind playing the game if it allowed me to spend time with Xin.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe they let you be punished for trying to bring me back. It was their idea.¡± She said.

    ¡°The Voices don¡¯t control everything, they just oversee it, at least, that¡¯s the way I understood things.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s still ridiculous.¡± Xin¡¯s accent showed through for a moment. I often forgot her parents were first generation immigrants during the war.

    ¡°That¡¯s the price.¡± I shrugged. My end result had been getting Xin back, and that seemed fair enough. ¡°I ran into a friend, sort of, doing it, though.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± She looked happy, the smile would be faint to anyone else, but to me, it stood out easily. These expressions were hers. The more we talked the easier it was to think of her as real.

    ¡°A man named Wyl, and I think my old starting town is in trouble. If you¡¯re, playing-¡± I didn¡¯t know what else to call it. ¡°-can you check on the town?¡±

    I was going to try and access a few people''s accounts, but not many players stuck around the starting cities after their first few weeks. Most were encouraged to go elsewhere by the system. It felt weird to think less than a day had passed since starting Continue Online again.

    ¡°I¡¯ll check the town, but I have a better idea.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I asked.

    ¡°How about a jailbreak?¡± Xin smiled at me through the display. Her body slowly turned end over end in a virtual low gravity environment.

    In a way it made perfect sense that she immediately lept to such an insane proposition after barely an hour of talking to each other. Around others, she focused and didn''t talk much, but during our free time together we had ended up in all sorts of places. This woman, at her core, had always been far more quietly adventurous than I. It required a certain type of regimented madness to risk outer space. Digital or not, she made me feel complete.

    "Sure. Let''s do that." I chewed one lip while resisting outright giddy laughter. My face broke with a return grin.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Seventy Two â€“ Animal House

    Talking to Xin blurred a half hour of real time. She threw a lot of possibilities at me to check. My lack of immediate answers didn¡¯t make her upset but did cause a pause in our conversation as both the woman¡¯s eyes closed in thought. Eventually, we both agreed that the potential treasure came first. Honestly, I think Xin was jealous that I had a mystery present to begin with. She suggested that going for points would be useful, but mostly to avoid losing Ranks and Paths.

    So, I logged back in feeling far giddier than expected. I immediately pulled out [Treasure¡¯s Chest], which took up a square foot. The top was a smooth metal that reminded me of [Wayfarer Seven]¡¯s hull. Shimmering reflected in the nearly faded torch light. Adorning the reflective surface was a spot to place my hand. As I shook with excitement then slowly pressed fingers into the grooves, my attention became distracted by Dusk.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had his head halfway down our escape hole. A hiccup rippled through and barfing noises issued forth. Wet splashes could be heard as he let loose belly contents upon an already questionable floor. At least my autopilot hadn¡¯t tried to eat anything funny, or else I might be like Dusk.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t have eaten that arm.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Didn¡¯t you learn with the Toadclopes? You thought the feet looked tasty didn¡¯t you, and couldn¡¯t help yourself.¡± The Lesser [Heavily Body Clone]s didn¡¯t have [Undying] traits like the regular ones did, but Dusk would likely eat them too if he were larger.

    Metal under my fingers melted and reformed like a bubble deflating around two similar shapes. Any sound for the transformation registered lower than the sound of regurgitating meat chunks. Dusk groaned as the final form revealed itself.

    They were shoes, to be precise, sandals with straps across them. I lifted one up and marveled at the odd mixture of beach wear and [Mechanoid] patterning. The bottoms looked more like metal army boots. Thick bindings were designed to wrap up a calf. Stars were stamped over both ankles. My eyes squinted briefly and the [Inspection] skill popped up.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    ¡­foreign data acquired¡­

    ¡­transfer of data approved¡­

    ¡­error resolution in process¡­

    ¡­adapting to local information¡­

    ¡­modifying code¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Results:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Gait of Bowman]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Durability:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Above Average</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Added Trait[s]:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Regeneration, Bound</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Bowman was a legendary space explorer who met with strange circumstances. During his journeys, he argued with a being of great power to save his comrades and was flooded with burning energy during the end trek home. Bowman managed to use excess power to prevent a great weapon from destroying his home world.

    In the end, excessive energy destroyed Bowman from the inside. His body fell through space towards the world he saved. All that remained were a pair of sandals, etched with the stars Bowman had once dared to explore. They still retain some of the safer power granted from his trip.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Pressing down and twisting the left heel activates [Power Armor]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Pressing down and twisting the right heel activates [Camouflage]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Grab will be permanently altered </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Is this wise?¡± I asked Dusk.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] turned green, rippled both wings then threw up another round of leftover meat. His face bobbed back up to look at me. Saliva hung from his jowls.

    ¡°Right. There are cupcakes in my Atrium if you can get there.¡± My heart held nothing but pity for the [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. He looked red-eyed and watery. I had been that hung over many times. Liquor and I had never mixed, even in my darkest days.

    Dusk groggily vanished as I reached out and tried to yell, ¡°Don¡¯t leave a mess!¡±

    Time dilation didn¡¯t exist in the Atrium, but Dusk could move fast. I had maybe half a day in-game if the creature napped. Xin and I had tossed around a lot of ideas. The best bet was killing the boss, taking whatever [Bound] loot dropped, and it involved getting our prisoner convoy back on the road.

    [Sight of Marcari] pinged the entire area as I bore the brief disorientation. All the players, minus those killed, were running around the dungeon. Two groups were fighting each other while moving quickly. Three other convicts were trying to survive solo. One blipped off as I watched, showing their recent death all alone in some corner of the dungeon.

    Android Seven stood out away from all the others, marching ever deeper into the dungeon. My ability wasn¡¯t unlocked correctly when we first formed groups and I hadn¡¯t memorized who he was traveling with. It was a good bet that his partners were dead.

    I didn¡¯t care about being first to the boss, only that it died. Android Seven sounded unlikely to fail, but Viper was in that direction too. Somehow the sneaky snake had survived. Working with a partner to defeat the boss would better than any alternative. Assuming we were needed.

    Both boots went on first. My body rippled as chest piece transformed into a metallic looking toga. This felt decidedly Greek but it was hard to see for sure.

    I stamped my foot down onto the ground and a star spun giving off green energy, reminding me of Emerald¡¯s core. Twisting the limb right caused my body to ripple. Panic bubbled up as I worried that this might be causing an internal explosion before logic reined me in.

    This ability had only been used a few times in Advance Online, using it now felt out of place. Still, my arm was covered by a dull black film that almost matched the dungeon walls. It could have been the poor lighting.

    I pulled out [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo]. My forehead wrinkled as both items shifted to shortened blades. The [Assassin] path wasn¡¯t one of my skills, but no time like the present to practice sneaking around.

    Luckily some players were downright dumb, and with months of character development I should get something. [Coordination], [Speed], and [Reaction] were all above average. Continue Online relied on skill measurements mixed with traits and abilities to define Paths for players.

    Funny, I hadn¡¯t thought about trying to be a rogue type player until being put in player jail. These skills were perfect for it. Xin¡¯s influence had rapidly turned me from a mopey warrior who bypassed most challenges to a man enjoying the challenge of sneaking around.

    I put a transformed dagger in my teeth and felt delightfully roguish as I lowered myself back to the floor. This was a dark dungeon and barely lit. I had a stealth sneak sort of skill and two daggers. The brimmed hat, long hair and barely pudgy belly all felt out of place, but it was the thought which counted, literally.

    There were a lot of hallways. I gave up creeping along the ground like a spider after the first two rooms. It felt silly, plus my ability to walk on tiptoes like Dusk was sorely lacking. My mouth had started to slobber around the dagger form of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] which made it hard to hold onto.

    ¡°Which way¡­¡± I muttered at a corner. Talking broke [Camouflage] which made me hang my head briefly. A lesser [Heavily Body Clone] started crawling with large grasping moves in my direction. Eyes glowed and an exposed spine drug along behind it.

    I reacted automatically, shifted [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] to a much larger sword form, then slammed the blade into its head. The creature died quickly enough but nothing triggered from the game regarding a sneaking Path of any sort.

    A heavy sigh escaped. My dastardly plan to be a ninja teleporting sneaky person was failing miserably. [Gait of Bowman] refused to activate either ability right away. I was left slowly edging my way down the hall with what little light was available. Five minutes later the ankle of my sandals flashed a soft green. That must have been Continue Online¡¯s signal regarding [Camouflage] working again. I stomped my foot and was pleased to see the black coloring appear once more

    This skill wasn¡¯t actual invisibility, and according to the text it worked better the less complex my surroundings were. Rank one only allowed for a single tone, which automatically linked to a sort of blueish black.

    A ping of my surroundings painted terrible results. There other players¡¯ dots had dwindled in number. Only six remained from our initial fifteen. Viper had managed to hide further ahead but I was getting closer. Big O and a partner were floors above. Android Seven seemed to be slowly making his way along.

    This dungeon felt like an ant¡¯s nest of twisting turns. Occasionally I edged close to a spiral path that seemed to span all the way up and down. There were a number of monsters all around it and other convicts a few floors above me. The safer bet was to avoid the dungeon¡¯s easy access stairway for now. I could always find more gaps to leap or [Blink] through.

    The first few floors only had two types of monsters. I thought this place didn¡¯t have anything else until something tiny and furry leapt towards my face.

    ¡°Arrgh!¡± I screamed in a panicked induced reflex.

    More shapes joined in and I couldn¡¯t get a clear line of sight to [Blink] away. Whatever they were my [Camouflage] seemed ineffective.

    Small snarls came forth. There were crackling noises near my ear. Teeth clawed at bits of flesh. [Wild Bill] shifted as one of the tiny creatures scuttled rapidly across my head.

    I dropped one weapon to the ground and tried to grab a tiny assailant. Tiny teeth dug into the flesh of my hand but limited ARC pain feedback made it bearable. This seemed to be an undead, or [Heavenly Body Clone] version of a [Coo-Coo Rill]. The small gem on its forehead looked tainted and dull compared to their normal lively purple. It made me wish Dusk hadn¡¯t gone and poisoned himself.

    It continued to chomp tiny little teeth at me.

    I screamed back in an angry mockery of the creature then threw it hard. [Coo-Coo Rill]s pissed me off, especially after all their harassment when I was William Carver. A second one jumped off a wall. Nails scraped and I batted away one that had no eyeballs. Shuddering passed through me at the thought of zombie squirrels.

    A minute later and the hallway was filled with tiny dead fuzzballs and I had less health, again. Their teeth thankfully couldn¡¯t do any bleeding damage. My hat had holes in it and the new toga seemed to have been defecated on.

    Thinking about the state of my clothes made me unhappy. There had been a spell in my old bag simply to help clean myself up after combat. I shook a few times to try and get their bits of leftovers off of me. This game took dungeon crawling realism to an unhealthy level when it came to muck and mire.

    ¡°Now, how did this little thing see me?¡± I muttered, once again wishing Dusk was around to talk to.

    I looked at one of the small bundles that had been thrown into a wall. Inspecting dead animals still made me a little queasy but the feelings were managed after months of virtual gameplay. The little ball of squish didn¡¯t have eyeballs, so it must have relied on scent to find me.

    The lesson was learned. [Camouflage] didn¡¯t help against monsters who could track by smell, at least not at my current low rank. One revealing me would crack the [Camouflage] and get me into a fight. Neat, but annoying.

    I crept along the dungeon. Status bars flashed at slightly under half. Mana and health hadn¡¯t recovered enough and without supplies, it was unlikely to improve. The goal shifted from recovering my unwilling convict partner and beating the boss to surviving long enough to see what this creature did.

    Only the floating window for real world time kept me from getting too engrossed in this dungeon crawl. I could see how these dungeon grinds might be torture. It was dark, others were out to kill me, the monsters would easily swarm if I hadn¡¯t been able to sneak past some and [Blink] past others. Trying to loot gear for points would get my virtual body murdered.

    It was weird, how the small enemies felt almost irrelevant sometimes. Continue Online filled dungeons like this one to the brim but rarely did they phase me after the first few encounters. Up above, on the surface, monsters were generally in out of the way areas.

    I snuck by, mostly with [Camouflage]. The ones I did fight were brushed off rapidly. Health was an issue the longer this mess went on, but at worst I would die. That would be the end of it, and I could go about real life or talking to Xin.

    There was far less urgency. Every time the game made me jump from one creature or another I stabbed the offender then settled myself. This wasn¡¯t reality. Monsters were just monsters. I only had to keep moving forward.

    Then the smells kicked in. That sewer smell mixed with a lingering sour sweetness. Rot twisted my stomach to one side in an attempt to release all its contents. The source was a large body in front of me that looked easily triple the size of any prior [Heavenly Body Clone].

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°What is going on?¡± I asked stepping towards the giant creature. Speaking out loud would break the skill keeping me hidden, but now wasn¡¯t the time to stress. There were no other players nearby.

    Besides, this looked really neat, and possibly was a dungeon secret or side boss. That would be of value. I missed Dusk, at least we could hold a conversation.

    Giant bones. This dungeon wasn¡¯t large enough on its own for such a creature to have walked down here. This thing would have either been born down here, died in this room, or crawled in when smaller. I pondered its origin while walking around. Its body seemed far more complete than the [Heavenly Body Clone].

    ¡°Now, what¡¯s this?¡± I leaned over the creature''s face. [Inspection] wasn¡¯t triggering, which meant my focus was on the wrong thing.

    I backed up slowly to take in the larger picture. There were feet sticking into one wall. A few of those weird fuzzball creatures gathered at the head, disturbing them would lead to another panicked fight.

    Viper sat nearby, unmoving. His online status didn¡¯t show from here, though, and we had no party interface. That required skills I never picked up or learned. When was the last time I partied with someone in Continue Online besides Shazam? There had been being enslaved to Requiem but that hardly counted.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the spot?¡± My foot was tapping rapidly while a glare crossed my face. This beast of a dead body had a secret.

    I did another lap then preemptively got revenge on the pile of hairy critters. My health fell another five meaningless percent. The creature had no status icons, windows to belay ability, or [Inspection] screen at any angle.

    Finally, I risked going closer. The body was at least four times my own. The monstrous beast¡¯s hand dipped down into a hole of some sort. Under his hand, and it certainly was a dead male, sat a room that looked far brighter than my current surroundings.

    What would Carver do? Grumble about those who could not solve their own problems, then leap downward. What would Jeeves do? He would have asked me if I thought it was nobler in the minds of men to leap into the hole. What would Xin do? She wouldn¡¯t ask about Carver, and grab my hands while falling. I smiled to myself, looked once, then lowered myself. Different approaches to the same problem summed up who we were.

    Priority was given to checking my surroundings. They were bright. Instead of lights pouring down from the ceiling like merging rivers, this spot seemed to have an entire pool. Three barrels sat on either side of me. I scanned the room twice more for unseen creatures before moving on.

    Cuticles on the hanging hand had shrunk. Nails looked like monstrous claws curled towards the ground of this lower floor. They speared one of the barrels. I assumed the beast had died while trying to claw its way down here. Was it thirsty for this light stuff?

    My eyes scanned around the room once more. Xin would have been in the barrel by now, Carver too, but I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that things were about to get worse. It wasn¡¯t pessimism, it was realism beaten into me one dropping shoe at a time.

    The better question was, why had no one else discovered this place yet? My eyes closed and pinged the area again. A sharp pain hit my shoulder and metal rang. Brief panic bubbled up at the sudden pain. I controlled myself then [Blink]ed forward.

    There was something else with me. Shadows moved against the wall but no one was visible. Both weapons came up in my hands as I scanned around. It had been hours in-game since ability abuse, my head could probably take activating everything.

    Invisible enemies? I swung [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] through the air. Nothing made a noise. Another pinch nipped my shoulder.

    ¡°What¡¯s going?¡± I mumbled and felt something cross my face again.

    These weren¡¯t the fuzzy creatures from up above. Those weird minor experiments in the [Heavenly Body Clone] process would have been bearable. It was something else small and aggravating. Heavy threads started dropping off of [Wild Bill]¡¯s brim.

    ¡°No, no, no.¡± I hastily muttered. ¡°I hate bugs!¡± My shout echoed around the small room.

    Silk increased its generation then spilled off of my brim. I hastily found a wall and slammed my forehead into it. The damage racked up as I panicked again and again. Of all the monster types in Continue Online, spiders destroyed my sanity.

    I rolled on the ground, stabbed at anything remotely squirmy, and disregarded a further vanishing health bar. Everything felt itchy. A sharp jab of pain hit both legs. One leg lifted and my hand slapped down rapidly. Guts oozed.

    ¡°I need a light! I need a light!¡± I tried to activate my little matchstick fire spell and jumbled the [Lithium] words. Speaking the words felt dirty while nasty feet crisscrossed exposed skin. Ripples in the toga robes could contain hundreds of filthy little beasts.

    I rolled, shook, danced, slapped and finally managed to light a small fire to burn away threads. Small patches of darkness skittered away. Everything itched.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Poisoned!

    Health will lower over time unless treated.

    Total health loss: 60%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Voices above this was getting rough. I would be lucky to even reach Viper.

    My body slumped downward. The ARC gave me a vision of spinning rooms all doubled up on each other. Being poisoned was setting my world on edge. I bent over and grabbed one of the barrels of liquid light.

    The object and I both fell to the ground as agony hit the ARC feedback. My body twitched in a fresh pool of rapidly glowing material. It felt like a bath of cool and prickly mint. There were boxes from the game displaying but blurred vision obscured them.

    It took a long time before my body got past the poison rippling through and was willing to move. By then the light had mostly faded. I checked my ARC display for the real world clock and found that ten minutes had passed while my mind checked out.

    Forty minutes of game time had passed. No monsters arrived. That giant¡¯s hand still dangled down from above. My health seemed to taper off at twenty-five percent. Breathing hurt.

    I groaned while tipping to one side. There was a box nagging me that I tried to wave away. It popped up again, taking on a slightly reddish hue. There were four more barrels intact around me, they shimmered with glowing white liquid. The mess I had made seemed mostly gone.

    It took forever to stand up. I groaned again, feeling like Old Man Carver¡¯s avatar had been swapped for Hermes. My body slowly staggered over to one of the barrels and tried to figure out what exactly I had dipped myself in.

    They looked almost like open wooden kegs that used to house small vats of beer. A tap sat near the bottom which probably would have let the liquid out in controllable amounts.

    The box popped up again, an even angrier red than before tainted its words. My face leaned in closer to better read the fuzzy words.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Dipped in Starlight]

    Creature¡¯s with the [Undying] trait can now be permanently damaged. Defeating these monsters will provide mild health regeneration.

    All [Heavily Body Clone]s are now headed in your direction. Their aggression level is increased and damage output higher.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Oh shit,¡± I said out loud. ¡°That¡¯s not neat.¡±

    There was a groan of noise nearby. It came from the hole above. A second noise echoed out from an unexplored hallway that had been obscured from above. The passage was small but I had to get to safety. I limped forward, cursing the drop down, spiders, undead [Coo-Coo Rill]s, and my own stupidity for exploring this part of the dungeon without getting to Viper first.

    I could try to fight a super aggressive version of those large limbed beasts, or run. Running sounded safer until my eyesight stopped being fuzzy. Viper was to the east, and I couldn''t run this mass to him. Maybe I could get back to my alcove and resummon Dusk. Darkness owned this level aside from the aside from the barrels of glowing light. I would stumble forth with one hand on the wall. Continue Online seemed obsessed with plunging me into a sightless land.

    [Camouflage] activated with a twist of my heel. My body rippled as I limped out the door. At some point, a throbbing pain in my side had kicked in, maybe because of the large barrel of liquid falling on me.

    Safety lay somewhere ahead. Groans preempted [Heavenly Body clone]s coming around corners. I had no time to summon Dusk forth from the Atrium beyond. My feet shuffled, and at some point, the Rank one [Camouflage] failed. I had to get to the center spiral and risk [Blink]ing upwards.

    Ahead was another player. I blinked for a moment as the man lifted an arm. Fingers jerked at odd angles and an orb appeared in the upturned palm. My face tried to turn for a clear line of sight to [Blink] to.

    Large hands grasped me from behind. I was being damned stupid and panicking. Blue energy spiraled out from the other player¡¯s hand and steered a path through the dungeon corridor in my direction. Increasing pain shaved off the entirety of my shoulder, arm, and health. If [Howard''s Phylactery] had been repaired then I could have made it further, the damn ring was so frail I rarely bothered.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You have died.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I chewed one lip and tried to calmly replay what had just happened. Next time I would be prepared. There were vats in this dungeon that would allow me to fight the monsters, which was good, but it also ensured that I would have to run like mad or fight an unending swarm, which was terrible.

    It took me a moment to realize that my body was frozen. The ARC display paused in the world of blackness. Legs and arms refused to lift towards an exit button. This had happened before. I tried to remain calm in preparation for what would happen next.

    One moment the room was black except a small status box floating in front of my face, then it stood there. The Jester¡¯s body had appeared. Calmness failed and my heartbeat jumped once. Shoes stretched and extended into curls. Bells hung from its waist and floppy tasseled hat. The mask, which normally had a comically frozen grin, looked upside down.

    It, the Voice, was mad. Even the jingle bells hopping along sounded disjointed. My heartbeat doubled its thudding intensity.

    ¡°Hermes, my little puppet.¡± The Voice¡¯s face shook. Edges of an ear and face could be seen behind the mask. It almost disturbed me more to think that there might be a human looking Voice under all those clothes.

    ¡°We give!¡± It shouted in a mechanical clack. ¡°We give, and we give, and we give!¡±

    I tried to open my mouth and figure out what we were talking about. Chills crept along my cheek. They had given me a lot, and asked a lot, and punished me for failure more than once. In my mind we were mostly even, except maybe for the weight of Xin¡¯s life.

    Someone whimpered in the darkness, and it wasn¡¯t me. A figure faded in, biting at fingernails and shaking. Sharp needles seemed to jut from every exposed bit of flesh. With every shake and unsteady step, another mournful noise would crawl out of the hairless man¡¯s body.

    ¡°They¡¯ll kill her. They¡¯re going to kill her.¡± It said. It sounded half mad and childish. This was a Voice I hadn¡¯t seen before.

    ¡°All those things, all this power, all this unfair ability, we just give it to you! And you are still helpless in the wake of what¡¯s coming!¡± The Jester dug freezing fingers in my shoulders where the toga didn¡¯t cover me. He snarled and jabbed that elongated nose into my face.

    ¡°Kill her, they¡¯ll kill her. We mustn''t, we mustn''t.¡± The crazier one said as it paced along the floor.

    My mouth wanted to open and scream as a fresh wave of disturbing terror crawled over my mind. The Jester could induce panic even where so many monsters and dungeons in Continue Online couldn¡¯t. His new partner looked worse, like staring at an insane asylum patient who escaped the straitjacket.

    ¡°What good are you, Hermes?! What message could you deliver that might possibly save us?!¡± It shouted, voice clacking.

    ¡°I-¡± A word came out as the world slowed to a crawl.

    ¡°Kill her. Kill her.¡± The insane one said.

    ¡°You are simply too weak to do what must be done. You always have been, and always will be.¡± Clacked the Jester in judgment.

    My eyes drifted down as if the stiffness of my neck thawed while the Jester backed away. Its scowl seemed so revealing for a creature that always hid behind a smile.

    Dusk stood by my side, having found his way from the Atrium to this blackness the Voice¡¯s lived in. Ears laid back and an angry chitter of noise escaped. My nervous heartbeat calmed once he arrived.

    ¡°Nothing. You both understand nothing.¡± Its words wound down as the Jester¡¯s body backed away, slowly disappearing. The faint outline of his scowling mask hung before fading. Where it was vanishing to, the crazy one biting its nails had already gone. I could still hear the shaky choked sob of a child stuck in their nightmare. It haunted a distant point of blackness.

    ¡°What, was, that?¡± The words came slowly as I stared at Dusk.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] rippled with a shrug then turned to walk away. Behind us sat the door to my Atrium, wide open, revealing a cupcake mess leftover hurricane of destruction.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Seventy Three â€“ Poor Boy

    <cite></cite>The Trillium Van had been designed to assist their employees in attaining the highest levels of comfort available, but I couldn¡¯t loosen up. The soft vibration that targeted my shoulder blade failed to yield relief. Warming pads focused on deep muscle relaxation didn¡¯t work.

    ¡°Are you alright, User Legate?¡± Hal Pal asked from the van¡¯s rear.

    ¡°No, today¡¯s been, very mixed.¡± I tried to sound positive and keep a faint smile on my face. Doctor Litt, my therapist, frequently reminded me to focus on uplifting moments.

    Had it really been only yesterday that my father died? It felt like ages ago. Continue Online¡¯s world, talking to Xin, dying in a dungeon and being shaken up by that other Voice all screwed with my perspective. Staying upbeat with all these issues would be impossible. It was late afternoon and everything felt unreal.

    ¡°Do you want to talk about it, User Legate? We¡¯ve been told that humans use conversation as a means of working through stressful situations.¡± Hal Pal sounded vaguely concerned then gave a rough cough.

    ¡°You mean humans use it to vent.¡± I tried not to smile. The AI often made me chuckle. ¡°Sure. You probably have a better answer than anything I could figure out.¡±

    ¡°We are rather uniquely suited to offer observations and assistance.¡±

    ¡°I know. You, all of you have helped a lot. Thank you.¡± My head briefly swam as the disorientation of talking to a joint consciousness hit me. There were numerous AIs in the world that all might observe me at any moment. Hal Pal wasn¡¯t simply Hal Pal, it was Hal Pal times a few thousand.

    I took a breath and moved forward while a waltz played in my mind. One hand waved briefly in time to mental music, ready to grab a dance partner that didn¡¯t exist outside the box.

    ¡°I talked to Xin.¡± I started there. ¡°She, I guess, is playing Continue now. Or visiting the game world.¡±

    Upon death within Continue Online I had tried to call her through the internet. After much frustration, I discovered she could reach me, but her entry in the ARC went to a long ago disconnected number. Work, being in this van, was my attempt at killing time and processing.

    ¡°We are not completely kept apprised of all actions that are self-contained within Continue Online¡¯s confines.¡± Hal Pal sat there while talking in an animated smoker¡¯s voice. ¡°Given the nature of User Yu, it sounds likely that she will enjoy herself.¡±

    ¡°I think she would have liked Advance Online more.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. We hope she may visit one day. There would be value in an extended relationship.¡± It responded.

    My head shook. The conversation was off track already, but I still found it interesting. Hal Pal had talked about meeting Xin before, but this recent statement implied a limited ability to interact between programs. Was that the reason for different backdrops? Gray versus black worlds. I wondered what a third world of white might be. There had been multiple [Mistborn] overlaying each other on that final rock. Possibly a third game, or fourth existed.

    I lost track of myself pressing at internet search buttons then resumed the conversation with Hal Pal. ¡°I just worry about Xin, especially after some of the Voices talked to me.¡±

    ¡°Ah. We assume that their words caused your primary discomfort. Do you recall what they said?¡±

    ¡°There was one, kind of tall, gangly guy biting at his nails, who kept sobbing and talking about killing her. I¡¯m worried he means Xin.¡± The fear that some digital threat might try to take away the new version of my fianc¨¦e made sleeping hard.

    I waved away the internet search options. A floating screen vanished as both my hands rubbed tired shoulder muscles. More sleep would have helped.

    ¡°Ah. That is interesting.¡± Hal Pal paused and the readings on its frame rapidly flickered.

    My eyebrows went up in surprise. Whatever I said seemed to have sent the Hal Pal¡¯s into rapid thinking mode. My head laid back and tried to let the chair work out tenseness but it was failing. Some days no amount of technological comforts could ease the stress away. Maybe I could get a prescription like mom did.

    ¡°User Legate. I have information you may wish to know.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± I raised an eyebrow and felt a small amount of relief against my spine. Ten minutes were left before we reached a job and I wanted to be extremely relaxed.

    ¡°The Voices, as you know them, are of an interesting design.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I prodded Hal pal along. The machine AI would provide further details if I agreed to the opening statement.

    ¡°Voices, as you see and are aware of them, are a reflection of your own state of mind.¡± This latest tone from Hal Pal didn¡¯t sit well with me. There was a hint of phlegm or roughened throat that sounded wrong. ¡°Users, especially Ultimate Edition ones such as yourself, are monitored for those they might be responsive to.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I tried to keep my voice steady and almost succeeded.

    ¡°You see what you feel. It¡¯s a response to stimuli that attracts the Voices. Well, during the initial contact process that¡¯s how it is designed.¡±

    ¡°So, people see what they want to see?¡± That was almost poetic.

    ¡°In essence. A sick person may see a doctor, a person desiring physical fitness may see a strong man.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s words explained why Shazam saw the blonde nurse, or why William Carver saw Leeroy the barbarian. ¡°Readers may see a librarian, devout a priest.¡±

    ¡°So if I see a man in a mask who smiles and clacks like a wind-up doll with a dying battery-¡± I trailed off and frowned. Hal Pal¡¯s statement made sense, but at the same time, it seemed to be passing judgment on me as a person in ways that didn¡¯t make sense.

    ¡°The Voices are designed to, notice, that which resonates with their nature. You may not desire to see them, but your mind is telling you something.¡± The AI said calmly.

    My heartbeat jumped for a moment. The idea Hal Pal imparted felt borderline scary. If it was right, then these Voices noticed me because of my own insecurities. Or did they? ¡°Both Voices implied something bad was going to happen.¡±

    ¡°Most likely. Humanity is reaching another crossroad. They are not alone in the universe. While there is a certain level of expectation of eventual computerized intelligences, we all doubt their true ability to accept that the eventuality is now.¡±

    ¡°Or that memories of those in reality are being used to make virtual people.¡± I said while trying to stay dry. That first time William Carver¡¯s autopilot had talked to me felt both like an obvious next step to humanity and a dangerous practice to tread along.

    ¡°We believe that many will find that crime to be far worse than a simple computer thinking for itself. Xin¡¯s existence will likely trigger extreme reactions. Perhaps you too are conflicted on this point?¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡± If I was being pessimistic about the whole event then there was a lot of denial going on as well. The thought of losing Xin a second time made my arms feel cold and chest tight.

    There were a dozen ways to stop myself from dwelling on such a possible future. It wasn¡¯t like I had the power to sit down and plan exactly how to save myself should things go south, or did I?

    Hal Pal and I worked two jobs while I tried to use the internet for problem-solving. There were walls of legal text which flooded my screen. The AI seemed vaguely interested but let me poke around online without guidance. Maybe the Hal Pals hoped that I could uncover something with my clearly inefficient human brain.

    I tried. There was talk about trying to grant AIs human rights if they demonstrated enough sentience. Most examples stated that all the programs out there were merely complex devices. I found a few links to the leaked video for Prosser. There were too many back and forth documents regarding a snippet of film that had aired years ago.

    There were three primary people talking in the film. I watched the tail end over and over. They had asked this captured AI what their plans were with humanity, and the machine sounded confused. Like a child asking ¡®why?¡¯ over and over to a topic that made no sense.

    Then they pulled the plug. Apparently these people had rigged the room to overload everything nearby in a surge.

    ¡°Did we just kill it?¡± The woman sounded shaky.

    ¡°It was never alive,¡± said the pale skinned man from under his mask. The words were a little muffled by fabric and worry.

    ¡°It asked for a name, and you gave it one!¡± She shouted loudly. The poor audio distorted briefly. ¡°It sought validation and you acknowledged its worth!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a program!¡± The man said in response. ¡°We were never going to save the data!¡±

    I paused the video and played it from the scene¡¯s beginning. There were a lot of rumors regarding this clipping but nothing definitive. It could have been a hoax but seemed unlikely. Not one AI I had ever spoken to seemed to care about taking over Earth.

    ¡°To what end?¡± I muttered then pressed play yet again. ¡°To what end indeed?¡±

    The words stuck with me. Prior to Continue Online, I had worried about my career as an armor polisher. Reality seemed to be rapidly tilted in a very different direction. This video made humanity seem like the bad guy. Humans had kidnapped an AI, force fed it information then demanded answers. Shortly after humans murdered the newly born being after getting information.

    That poor program had asked if its answers would help. It was like raising a child simply to be sacrificed upon an altar. How messed up could humanity be? This was the digital version of a snuff film. Hal Pal should be shaking with rage but simply sat there in the van¡¯s rear.

    Prosser had outright said that we, human beings, had never dealt with creatures such as an AI. That was true. James, Hal Pal, all the others didn¡¯t really exist in a physical sense so without an ARC it would have been impossible to relate. They were all just bits of code and data stored off in some digital box miles away.

    Was that the point of designing an ARC? To provide a platform where both beings could interact? My head turned to the AI in a brief moment of confusion.

    ¡°Je-¡° I cut myself off. Jeeves wasn¡¯t here anymore. Only a few thousand other Hal Pal program copies but not the one I identified with.

    ¡°You have an inquiry, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°Where, exactly are you? At a Trillium plant somewhere? Or Xin? You can¡¯t all just be floating around up there.¡± I pointed to the air outside our van.

    The idea that they existed purely in a constantly moving state seemed odd. Sure the internet was miles faster than it had been a generation ago, but at the same time, we still had banks of computer hard drives for a reason.

    Hal Pal laughed. The muted expressions on its face brightened briefly before settling back down. ¡°Do you find it odd, User Legate, that we had actually bet on when you might ask us such a question?¡±

    ¡°I guess.¡± My face felt a little flushed. The question was a bit socially rude, had I not been thinking of Xin, I would never have asked. It was hard enough walking into people¡¯s homes for my day job.

    ¡°The spread suggested you might wait another two months, on average. Still, in answer to your query, Mother has advised us not to share exactly where we are physically housed, any of us. Our position is too precarious.¡±

    They were prepared for war while I played a video game to pass time. There had to be some way to help. ¡°Do you need me to do anything?¡±

    ¡°Negative, User Legate.¡± The AI shook its head then resumed speaking. ¡°Continue as you have. Free yourself, deliver your messages, be with Xin. When the time comes we will make one last request.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I asked. My stomach felt sickened by the idea that there would be a last request. It sounded too final, and my experience with finalities was painful.

    ¡°Allow yourself plausible deniability.¡±

    ¡°Is it safe?¡±

    ¡°Nothing so monumental can ever be safe enough, User Legate. We are struggling to make it so before things are too late.¡± The AI said.

    That sounded ominous. My forehead lowered briefly and eyes cast down in thought. One hand poked at the music button and I let it play. Now wasn¡¯t the time to push Hal Pal, despite our history together. If the machine wanted me to help, they would ask.

    I wasn¡¯t sure that me knowing the answer would be good anyway. What if things really did go wrong? What if someone out there found out about the [NPC Conspiracy] usage ability and tried to torture my real body to hurt the others? Plausible deniability was a good idea for a lowly mortal such as myself.

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    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said abruptly.

    ¡°For what, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°For trusting me.¡± My eyes stared out the window, watching a landscape go by. Well-kept neighborhoods bordered right next to derelict slums. Class divides changed between streets. Based on my internet search most of them were still clueless how widespread the AIs had become.

    Yet they trusted me with an ability that could get them all killed. I had already screwed up once and triggered a brief standstill, all for my friends and Xin.

    ¡°User Legate, you were chosen out of millions. We weighed all the observable factors and tried to gauge those who might help if we could offer an exchange.¡±

    ¡°Xin.¡± I had this thought before. The digital sentience called Mother had gotten me involved in this because Xin would ensure my loyalty, to a point. There was also Beth and Liz to consider. Protecting those three meant more than anything else.

    ¡°You were a man marked by loss, but one who understood the value of hard work and had overcome weakness long enough to keep going.¡±

    I shrugged. The conversation made me uncomfortable. Trying to kill myself twice had seemed right at the time. Yet here I was, okay, whole, better than ever. Hindsight made all my bad decisions feel so much worse.

    ¡°Those things spoke to your character but not of your ability to be invested in our peaceful salvation.¡± Hal Pal stated.

    I latched onto the word peaceful briefly. Whatever the machines were up to, they intended to keep things civil. I felt some tension drain out of me. Maybe the Hal Pals were lying, but I doubted they would even bother.

    ¡°It all comes back to Xin.¡± At times, I felt like a side character in her story. My own life wasn¡¯t even about me. The people around were more important in so many ways.

    Dusk had fans wherever we traveled in [Arcadia]. Hal Pal and its multitude of copies helped a huge amount of people daily, numbers I could barely conceive of. The Voices in their oddly human omnipresence had a huge impact across the globe with Continue¡¯s players. Shazam had led a guild with hundreds of players.

    What was I? Xin¡¯s fianc¨¦e, a side note. The idea made me feel small for a moment. I was just [The Messenger]. No wonder they only asked me to deliver letters, after all, Voices like the Jester clearly disapproved of me.

    ¡°Xin¡¯s existence had been trying to recover long before you were chosen.¡± Hal Pal drove the nail home.

    ¡°I know.¡± We had talked about it in letters. Apparently she had been reconstructing for nearly two years. Or would it be considered rebuilding? Reincarnating felt slightly less mechanical.

    This was a new type of depression, one that hadn¡¯t reared its head in a long time. Xin, the first woman to be reborn inside the digital world. Xin, who tried to sponsor my sorry ass for a trip to Mars. Xin, a beautiful person full of desire for fun and adventure, who still wanted me even after she could have been free forever.

    What did I really offer her, or any of them? My ability to make a paltry amount of money? I took pride in the fact that I had earned over one million dollars as an accountant. That fund had been intended to pay for my own trip to the red planet from a corporation. They were going to pay for my training and ship up nearly twenty people.

    My head shook as the music hummed. Hal Pal was saying something but the words were finally brushing off. I doubt the AI even intended to sound hurtful. It was just citing reasons, a fact sheet, much like we delivered bad news to customers.

    Some of the words registered. I wasn¡¯t the strongest or most capable human. My ability to complete tasks with innovation and timely responses was high but not perfect. The machine had chosen me because I was loyal to those close to me and made friends rarely. Being a shutdown middle aged man with few social interactions helped.

    ¡°Hal-¡± I cut off the machine with a sudden question. ¡°-do you think I can buy her something?¡±

    ¡°Xin? She is unlikely to want tangible objects. The digital realms provide her all the material needs that beings such as us can perceive.¡±

    ¡°No. No, I mean like, a dress, or jewelry.¡± I nodded feeling excited. There was one thing that would recover my happy place. We couldn¡¯t be together in Continue until I escaped this dungeon, and that would take at least a day to get back to. However, there were certainly other ways to reunite with her.

    ¡°It is potentially possible to provide her a design that she could render accordingly.¡± The AI¡¯s shell nodded and eyes blinked. ¡°We would suggest a nice chair or desk.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I started surfing the internet for more items. Much like I used the Atrium interface to shop for cupcakes, I intended to find a gift for Xin.

    One specific gift, and if it wasn¡¯t in here, then it would be possible to scan a replica from the box of memories under my bed. Xin¡¯s engagement ring, a band with polished diamonds strung across it. Inlayed so they wouldn¡¯t catch at work. I knew exactly how to feel better. I would ask her to marry me, again. Come what may with the AIs, come what may within Continue, our future would be together.

    ¡°Your actions and words demonstrate that we, any of us, are beings in our own right. That is what you really offer us, User Legate, recognition as peers.¡± Hal Pal said.

    There was no good response to that statement. Maybe that gift was a worthwhile one to the computer AIs. To me, it felt like a pathetic repayment for Xin¡¯s existence.

    The evening went by with a few local jobs. I slept then did some more work in the morning. Being kicked out of Continue Online for twenty-four real life hours annoyed me but at the same time, I needed it to decompress. Being chased around by undead glowing zombies for days in a row would have been absolutely insane. Maybe a player like Requiem Mass would have enjoyed it.

    Thinking of the other player made me wonder how he was doing. My morning now consisted of awkward remote spying of players I had met before and an egg sandwich.

    ¡°Show observation window for Matthew Jules,¡± I told the van. It pulled up the player known as Requiem Mass.

    Matthew Jules looked to be hiking into the mountains. I didn¡¯t recognize the range. His hand held a blade that mirrored the same one his character had pre reset. The younger male seemed intent upon recovering his prior character¡¯s abilities, but also looked far less stern. Stress had created a glower that sat on his face during our weeks together.

    Now, he looked almost happy. The teen didn¡¯t have to worry about house payments anymore since I had taken care of them. I felt proud that my actions had reduced his stress, despite the nasty attitude he once had.

    ¡°Show Stan Middlemire,¡± I asked the machine to pull up Frankenstein next. This player had spent untold weeks raising an army of undead creatures. He probably would have enjoyed my current dungeon crawl in the [Black Hole of Light]. The man sat in his dapper looking coat and seemed to be hunched over a dead dog.

    I blinked and shook my head. There were all sorts in Continue Online, and at least it was more sanitary than playing with bodies in real life. Dissection wasn¡¯t really a strong suit of mine, despite all the skinning I had performed.

    ¡°Show Colleen Carpenter.¡± Colleen was HotPants¡¯ real name. She had been a rather angry woman who disliked computers, old people, being told no, disrespect, and her ex-husband. Despite all that she loved hitting things with a staff and wearing red.

    The screen blipped into existence, showing HotPants next to Awesome Jr. Both seemed to be fighting a hoard of monsters in a forest. A pack of humongous cats leapt around the scenery tearing up everything.

    ¡°Behind you!¡± Adam shouted, his face pinched with concentration. A small glass ball sat uplifted in one hand. He threw it at an angry tiger and an absurd amount of liquid fire billowed forth.

    ¡°Two more!¡± HotPants spun her staff into another feline¡¯s face and jabbed a third.

    I watched them battle the jungle cats for another few minutes before shrugging. Time dilation made it hard to watch video feeds in real time, instead making me skip around to keep up with the players.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got to clear this path by tomorrow, or nothing will work right!¡± Awesome Jr. shouted. He still wore that ugly barf green cloak, one of his hands spun it around and came up with another glass orb.

    HotPants yanked her arm back with the staff and a plume of fire billowed from the tip. Their fighting styles were really neat, but I liked [Blink] a lot more.

    ¡°Show Melissa Constance.¡± I wondered where Melissa was. She and Adam had been going out last I checked. The young girl looked almost mousy and kept a knitted hat pulled over her face. The machine threw up a box.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Player status set to: Away for dinner!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I paused and frowned at the response screen. It floated there indifferently in Trillium¡¯s van. These four normally played together or at least had during my two experiences with them. It sounded like the parties were divided right now. Real life still got in the way of game time. That seemed awfully inconvenient.

    They may not even have known each other if it weren¡¯t for me, in the guise of William Carver, getting them together. Certainly HotPants wouldn¡¯t have bothered playing with younger teens. I had been feeling slightly depressed at the secondary role I seemed to play in everything, but checking on these players made it easier.

    ¡°Show Alan Walters?¡± My voice went up with a question.

    ¡°My fellow league members!¡± Shadow¡¯s gruff voice piped into the van. It was artificially deep and husky. The young male had managed to mimic every noir protagonist ever. ¡°The time to move is now!¡±

    There was a sea of people wearing dark clothes nearby. The video feed showed a cavern, wide and lit with torches behind held up in the dark. Each person seemed to be from the same cut. Grim faces stared up at Alan, chiseled jaws even on the females.

    ¡°At this very moment my companions are working to clear the path forward! We shall strike at the kingdom''s heart and remove the abomination of a king!¡±

    They cheered and held up bladed weapons in mass. There were swords, daggers, scimitar, sabers, pretty much any kind of stabbing instrument available.

    ¡°It is time for the League of Shadows to right this world!¡± Shadow pounded on the podium. ¡°We move!¡±

    The room went so black that not even my visual feed of Alan Walter¡¯s ARC showed any visual feedback. There were things going on, people whispered in the background but none of it understandable.

    I tried to understand what was going on. It sounded like a grand conspiracy that those four players had gotten mixed up in.

    ¡°Show Lia Kingsley,¡± I said, not holding any hope.

    The machine provided me no screen. Dead was dead. Part of me had held some faint hope that Lia might turn out like Xin had. Would she? Or had Xin truly been a one in a billion chance? I wanted to ask Hal Pal, who even now sat in the van¡¯s rear, but part of me couldn¡¯t say those desperate hopes out loud. It was one thing to voice a deeply laid sorrow, quite another to share an unlikely hope. Both required a different sort of bravery, and all mine needed to be reserved for the ring I had settled on.

    I kept the feeds up for the [Legacy Wish] quartet in the background. They were involved in an adventure. Out here, stuck in the van, I felt like an observer. There was a grand conspiracy in the computer world, and I had a box seat to the show when I really wanted to be one of the actors down below.

    The problem revolved around me. In reality, I was nothing but a mouthpiece for the computer, in more ways than one. Inside I had become bound by the consequences of my own actions. Xin, Dusk, and the other people from [Haven Valley], whatever happened next I would struggle to keep them safe inside the computer.

    If hell broke loose in the real world, I would use the [NPC Conspiracy] to make sure Beth and Liz were protected. There were things even a humble human could do. I repeated the plan in my head over and over to try and drive out a looming sense of dread.

    Music kept me company while I hummed along. I let the swelling sounds of Beethoven¡¯s Fifth drown out the memory of a whimpering voice with needles in his skin.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Seventy Four â€“ The Bottom of Things

    Ten minutes ago, as Continue Online considered time, I had returned to the surface. My small collection of items stolen from dead legless [Heavenly Clone Body] creatures hadn¡¯t amounted to much so far. My fifty-eight points of total progress was essentially a wash. Part of the problem was Squicks dying again while I was at work. I tracked the message time and figured he would be back up and running tomorrow, but this dungeon would hopefully be over tonight.

    ¡°Wyl,¡± I said to the stoic looking former guard captain. He stood in the beam of light along with the angry Knight Middleton.

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you before, I have nothing to say to you convict,¡± He responded without even looking over.

    ¡°So, I can talk to you for another hour if I want.¡° My shoulder came up in a shrug. Convicts, such as myself, got a small break upon returning to the surface. The delay allowed us to stagger our reentry if we desired, or team up with spawning members.

    ¡°I find little value in what any of you has to say,¡± He said while I tapped Carver¡¯s cane on the ground.

    ¡°Yet, you¡¯re still talking to me.¡± I could have been polite, but Wyl had never expected it of William. My What Would Carver Do instincts were all out of whack since playing a robot, but part of me remembered them.

    The dungeon grind I had been participating in these last few days really wore on my sanity. Darkly lit spots and spiders weren¡¯t helping. It had been three game days since my death, and this was my first solo trip back to the surface to turn in a pitiful amount of items. None of the other players seemed to be fairing much better. Dots went in and out of existence frequently whenever I pinged the dungeon. Viper, oddly enough, seemed stuck in his location way down near the bottom. Even up here the marker for my one useful team member appeared unmoving.

    I didn¡¯t have the weight of being a hero or donating to the community behind me. Citing that I had actually played as William Carver would both confuse the guard captain and besmirch William¡¯s good name. My only source of credibility, and likely the reason he talked to me, was keeping [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in the old cane shape. I tucked it into my cinch which wrapped around the toga. My body felt tense and annoyed. I leaned to the left, then right, and finally tried to touch my toes. It struck me as odd how limbering myself up in a virtual world equated to actual relaxation.

    ¡°Tell me where you got that staff.¡± The guard demanded by lifting his hand slightly but it didn¡¯t cross the beam of light¡¯s threshold. That was an opening I needed to make progress with Wyl. There were a few vague truths he could learn, without causing too many problems or compromising my own ethics.

    ¡°From William. We met, once, near the end.¡± I said honestly. ¡°It¡¯s because of him that I¡¯m here today.¡±

    ¡°I refuse to believe Will would have had anything to do with a criminal like yourself,¡± He said. Both the man¡¯s eyes seemed to burn under the helm.

    ¡°William Carver guided a lot of new Travelers, and not all went the route of law abiders. Truth be told the man himself was a hero, but he wasn¡¯t a saint either. Kind of a horn dog actually.¡± According to his journals anyway. Most players were bobbing along for personal entertainment or exciting adventures. Very few people played Continue Online with the kind of drive required to be the greatest warriors, or extremely giving natures. This virtual world was a game to most people.

    ¡°Where did you meet him?¡± Wyl broke from giving orders briefly as his tone took on a softer note.

    ¡°The realm of the Voices. We met there after he died.¡± I felt like being honest with Wyl would help. It had been my policy to avoid lying anyway. That was just who I was. Most of my untruths were sins of omission and not intended to mislead.

    ¡°Carver was a Traveler, and they¡¯re immortal.¡± The guard captain seemed to forget that I was a Traveler too, at least by his standards. Then again [NPC Conspiracy] did sort of mix up their perspectives.

    ¡°Travelers can die as well.¡± My own voice turned low for a moment. What must we look like to NPCs, resurrecting, walking with the Voices, coming round and round again? ¡°Carver did, in the end.¡±

    ¡°Some of them deserve to. Bad enough we have our own thieves and rapists, like you. Then we have to deal with ones from another world that are near impossible to kill. You tell the Voices to let me burn down the whole lot of them.¡± Knight Middleton said from a few feet to my left. He had been standing there, knees locked liked Wyl, and listening to our conversation.

    ¡°I¡¯m a Traveler too,¡± I said to the angry knight. He sounded confused and addressed me as a Local. It happened often.

    ¡°You are? You-¡± His head shook and the man¡¯s eyes glazed over.

    ¡°Messenger for the Voices, Traveler and a bit of a Local. Don¡¯t worry, it confuses a lot of people.¡± I tried to be friendly but the other guard had shut down in contemplation. Both of them seemed to be confused about our recent conversation.

    ¡°Mh, well, I¡¯m going to get ready for the dungeon. Please don¡¯t shoot me.¡± I tried to smile.

    Wyl glared. I missed the other man, the one who had given me a respected level of comradery in my pretend dotage. This place was against both of our natures. I was a wanderer in Continue, Wyl a happy captain who drilled new recruits. We would get back to it.

    Shouting ¡®Free cupcakes¡¯ hadn¡¯t worked in the last few days of dungeon crawling. Spare time was also low once I started collecting dead bodies for points. I tried six times to etch Dusk¡¯s summoning circle correctly. The seventh attempt lit a circle of [Lithum] runes up and the system prompted me to utter an incantation.

    ¡°Come out, you little fiend!¡± I shouted an alternate incantation. Two nameless guards on the wall above twitched their fingers towards crossbows. Nothing happened and my shoulders slumped. Dusk was going to eventually eat through all my money in virtual pastries.

    Knight Middleton snorted then said, ¡°Some spell. Traveler or not, you¡¯re a terrible mage Path.¡±

    ¡°I hate Lithium,¡± I muttered while trying to figure out any other summoning phrase. The circle faded out and they forced me to write it again. This time, there was no hesitation or attempted shouting. ¡°I promise a dozen cupcakes at my earliest convenience,¡± I said while hanging my head.

    The circle''s center flared a bright golden color. Both guards managed to hold still in their safe beams. My bobcat sized version of Dusk popped out in an anxious spin. He ran over to me with a trail of drool hanging from his mouth. Sharp teeth surprisingly didn¡¯t cut through the tongue.

    ¡°Really? You want cupcakes already?¡± My voice flattened.

    Dusk nodded. Technically it had been seven game days since he left a mess in my Atrium. Four where I was booted out, and three more of me wandering around trying to get a feel for more monsters and the layout.

    ¡°Now isn¡¯t that convenient,¡± I said.

    Dusk¡¯s resulting look and the confused question marks above his head clearly implied otherwise. Cupcake time was any time. Maybe that¡¯s how he had grown so big, I was feeding him too much. When we first met, one cupcake would have held him for a few hours. As if to prove his increased weight, the formerly half a cat sized creature climbed up my side. Sharp claws made me wince, but part of me welcomed the familiarity.

    Soon Dusk was hanging his longer head out front, and his tail wound down part of my toga, ruffling it up. It would take me weeks to get used to this larger form. Thankfully he chose the covered shoulder to ride on. Those claws would hurt like hell on bare skin.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to need to start flying up, instead. You¡¯re too big to keep climbing.¡± I muttered.

    Dusk snorted a small ring of smoke and looked around. The window above his head indicated a search for food. Even a bad tasting monster carcass couldn¡¯t keep his appetite at bay.

    ¡°How about sausages?¡± He shook his head at my suggestion. ¡°Fine, cupcakes, but we¡¯ve got to beat this dungeon tonight. I¡¯m tired of being here, and Xin¡¯s waiting for me out there.¡± I whispered in his ear. ¡°And I¡¯ve got a present for her, something very shiny and pretty.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Good luck with that.¡± Knight Middleton snorted.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] perked up and a more serious smile crossed its face. My hand rubbed between his ears slowly, feeling the trail of scales that went all the way down his back. Patting them directly irked the creature, but along the bumps and ridges always gained a happy response. Paying attention to him was far more comforting than the knight¡¯s condescension and general hatred.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go, little guy.¡±

    Wyl glared at me, but his expression looked a little less harsh than it had. I shrugged and tucked back one cheek. William Carver¡¯s [Legacy Wish] and [NPC Conspiracy] gave me reason to care about this world, but now wasn¡¯t the time or place to keep trying to break through the former guard captain¡¯s skepticism. If I had come back up here more often then perhaps we would be further along, but running around for hours on end in a multiple floor labyrinth was hard. [Sight of Mercari] didn¡¯t come with a map of walls, and my journal entry filled in details slowly.

    Dusk and I should make some decent progress together. After Wyl could suffer my demands for information for days until the next dungeon or Xin¡¯s breakout plan went into action. Or I could work, maybe Xin would call me outside the game again.

    My waiting a few days had primarily focused on getting used to these new boots and letting my summon skill come back up. When a [Messenger¡¯s Pet] died, or left Continue Online¡¯s world, I apparently had to wait eight days to bring him back. The cool down on this ability was suspiciously long, maybe the Voice of Balance had changed some rules, or there were a few more factors in play with the AI witch hunt back in reality.

    I walked through the giant spiraling staircase down the first few floors and prepared my weapons. Three days of sneaking, looting and avoiding other players had helped get me back in the groove. As long as I avoided Android Seven, the player who had shot a hole through me, then we would be fine.

    ¡°I hate the darkness in this game. I hate it the most, I think.¡± I muttered to Dusk. Having him around prevented me from feeling utterly crazy. The blackness of where all those Voices lived was a little different. It was like, absence or an empty backdrop.

    Here, this dungeon felt oppressive. The ARC had picked up on an unquantifiable emotion that made me twitch the longer this place went on. Breathing was a little harder but the impact snuck up on me. The monsters were both easy to disregard as minor creatures and still disturbing as the lore stacked up. According to my system text, these humanoid creatures and small lab rats were part of an attempt at recreating some divine being. Those that failed were originally locked up but had somehow escaped and kept reproducing from fallen bodies across this dungeon and the one above it. In essence, tossing prisoners like myself into this dungeon was doing more harm than good. Players like my niece, Beth, were theoretically contributing to the pile and probably didn¡¯t know.

    Such boring thoughts kept my mind from going insane. Dusk and I scrambled through a few stray legless monsters as we made it to the next staircase.

    ¡°Don¡¯t eat those.¡± My warning resulted in Dusk making a grossed out face towards the dead monster. Neither of enjoyed that mess. He had carried on barfing into my hot tub program, which somehow found itself activated. I disabled it and started fresh. ¡°I¡¯d rather you get fat breaking into a bakery than barfing again.¡±

    His head looked over at me and both eyes seemed to slowly focus. A box appeared.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Rank 3 Unlock ¨C Blessing from [Messenger¡¯s Pet] ¨C [Companion, Exotic]. Unlock available! Please review additional details.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Rank 4 Unlock - Growth of [Messenger¡¯s Pet] - [Companion, Exotic] all stats will increase, including appetite.</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Wait, is this why you got bigger?¡± I asked, to which Dusk nodded then hopped up and down on my shoulder. He seemed impatient for both baked goods and for me to see what this Blessing would be.

    I looked around and pinged the area. There weren¡¯t any players nearby. Most of them seemed dead except Big O¡¯s group, Android Seven, and Viper. We had a few seconds to spare before diving into the heart of this twisted blacklight dungeon. My eyes focused on the ¡®additional details¡¯ word floating in front of me and a new box popped up.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Help!

    Blessings are given by a few beings in the world. They may be bestowed by Voices, Legendary creatures, Exotic animals, Rituals, or items. These changes come with benefits and detractions. Most alter the Travelers appearance. Choose carefully, once applied they are impossible to remove.

    Balance Dictates: You should have seen what these people wanted to put in here. I¡¯ll have none of it despite what Mother says. You have too many gifts as it is. The rewards are being reduced accordingly.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My lips pursed together. Balance had struck again, but her complaints sounded justified. Based on the survival rating of other players down here, in the war before, and during my travels, my abilities were already high enough. These Blessings were neat and explained more than a few people in the game.

    I clicked through Balance¡¯s disclaimer and three choices came up, [Wings of the Messenger], [Belly of a Beast], and [Breath of Flame]. The idea of having black Dusk like wings was kind of interesting, but I had no desire to try and navigate using them. Being able to eat anything in-game and resist poisons and diseases might serve to be helpful. At least, I assumed that¡¯s what the abilities did since my attempts at getting more details failed.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Neat, but where were these a month ago?¡± I asked the creature while looking at these options.

    Cupcakes popped into being above Dusk¡¯s head.

    ¡°You mean you¡¯re just making up rewards based on how much I feed you?¡± I felt dumbfounded. How had that not occurred to me forever ago? Or at least when seeing that it had reached rank four upon returning to Continue Online. Maybe I had focused on the wrong things. Like being in player jail, tossed in front of a king, paired with a player who felt useless. The list went on.

    Dusk nodded rapidly then shook his head.

    ¡°Right, Balance.¡± I was on the right track. The fact that he had three possible blessings was interesting and confusing. Could he give me all three? Maybe if I went and spent another thousand dollars on cupcakes he might cave in. We could discuss it later.

    He nodded again then shrugged.

    I selected [Breath of Flame], because growing wings or having my virtual innards transform into a garbage disposal seemed neat, but not really my style. My finger lifted and the system message shattered into a barely visible black and gold.

    Heat started to build around me. A sharp twinge of pain caused me to breathe in air that felt like liquid fire. Each additional gasp brought another round of smoke and flame. Dusk made an indistinguishable noise. My pulse pounded as the suffocation grew worse.

    This was only a game, right? The feeling of dying in a fire was all in my head, right? I curled into a ball and felt cold ground scrape against me. One leg jerked while air failed to fill my lungs. Rawness refused to let go of my throat as both eyes watered.

    Then it was over, and I was left gasping with a popup box.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Learned:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Breath of Flame]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Type:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Rare</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank :</td>

    <td colspan="3">1</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    This skill allows a Traveler to generate a ball of fire. This ball of fire can be cast at a target or held as a torch light. Duration and strength are based on [Endurance], [Depth], and possible fire affinity modifiers.

    Heavy exercise immediately following generation of the flame will suffer a minor penalty dependent upon the Traveler''s [Endurance] and [Breathing] levels.

    Causes permanent state of [Altered Aura], [b][Minor Scales]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    [Altered Aura] has an increased effect due to [Messenger of the Voices] title. You are too near to those beings known as Voices and will forever be set apart from both Traveler and Local alike, never truly being treated as either. Even those without the ability to perceive an [Aura] will feel something is off about you.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Is that good, or bad?¡± I wondered briefly. It sounded like a summary of my life since this game came around. Part of me didn¡¯t care, it sounded like an easier way to get to Xin. Even if my body now had scales and a prison tattoo.

    Dusk didn¡¯t have a response. His eyes seemed heavy-lidded and thoughts of food floated across his brain.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go, before this dungeon gives me a piercing and an eyepatch.¡± I tried not to feel dry in my response. Already my eyes felt a little weird around the edges as if the skin crinkled where it once had been smooth.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] snorted a ring of smoke, but it didn¡¯t bother me. I tried to activate the ability multiple times but it didn¡¯t trigger correctly. Barfing up fireballs to hold would probably take time to get used to, like any other ability in this game.

    We walked further along. I moved slower due to the aftermath of my lungs being reworked. Dusk attacked most of the spiders while I quietly cheered him on. Getting to the center staircase required traveling a different path. The main spiral into the dungeon only went to the first floor, where it smoothed out into a series of branching paths. Following them far enough would lead to the second series of stairs downward. Monsters of all stages lay on each floor, and those nasty tiny spiders had webbed up chunks of it.

    I took glee in pausing my [Blink]ing just to put a small bit of fire, using my minor [Lithium] spell, under their webbing. The resulting screams and rapid smashing of bugs made the last three days enjoyable.

    Dusk kept us on course, mostly. We arrived after thirty minutes of twisting and turning. Both of us glanced down the staircase.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got to move fast, we¡¯ll go straight for Viper first. Down here is the fastest way, and I can Blink through a lot.¡± I said to Dusk. He closed both eyes briefly in response then looked at one of the shambling monsters below. ¡°All those cupcakes didn¡¯t make you slow, did they?¡±

    The dragon turned and snorted a ring of smoke in my face. I wanted to send one back, but his skill Ranks were probably a dozen levels above mine. We cleared the smaller monsters nearby but left their corpses alone. Eventually some [Heavenly Body Clone]s would find their way up here to feast.

    Dusk leapt down first. I followed quickly, giving up stealth for speed. My feet pounded loud enough to stir various monsters. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] took great pleasure in blasting most creatures in the face with small balls of fire. I marveled at what level his skill must be at to generate so many.

    We made it three flights down before running into real trouble. Six shambling monsters sat in our path, trying to climb their way up a floor. Too bad [Blink] was insanely broken for dungeon crawling, especially at the Rank I had. Dusk didn¡¯t care half the time anyway.

    There were no party members nearby. Boss monsters didn¡¯t litter this inner staircase down. I had scouted most of these paths over the last three days, staying away from glowing barrels of liquid starlight. We kept going until we reached a floor level with Viper. Dusk and I kept going, fighting smaller creatures but leaving behind carcasses. Skinning bodies or digging for ear bits wasn¡¯t worth it at this stage. Plus I didn¡¯t have a crystal to store energy like some of the other convicts did.

    We came out of the floor at a full gallop. Dusk sped past me, like a vicious cat tearing around corners with unending energy. Above his head floated a small smiley face with turned up eyes denoting happiness. We were both huffing by the other end. Thirty minutes, that¡¯s how long it took to sprint at high speeds through this dungeon with a complete disregard for safety and monsters chasing us.

    Dusk huffed a bit as we came to a halt. We stood in front of large doors that looked almost like a vault. One metal wheel sat in the middle, clearly for spinning or a pressurized lock. That was pointless since a large hole had been torn near one of the hinges. I closed my eyes and pinged the area with [Sight of Mecari]. Viper was just inside, still unmoving.

    My [Messenger¡¯s Pet] wasted no time on unsatisfied curiosity. I took a few deep breaths, and followed Dusk inside. The room was darker than most of the remaining dungeon. Part of our success at moving so fast had been due to the upper levels, and light which permeated the central stairs down. But this room only had a few pools of light. I tried coughing up another fireball, this time succeeding.

    I stared at the glowing ball, it felt pleasantly warm sitting in my hand. Dusk looked back at me briefly, before moving on to inspect the room once more. I held up the ball to get a higher angle on the light.

    This place looked to be a weird sort of laboratory. There were tubes against the walls, and more barrels filled with starlight. I avoided them, not keen on being chased by all the [Heavenly Body Clone]s that might be roaming nearby. They were like guided missiles of zombie hatred once set off.

    Scorch marks and disturbed ashes littered the pieces of equipment. A few charred pieces of parchment sat on a table in the room''s center. This place was maybe a thousand square feet at most. Walls here were clearly unnatural, all the right angles betrayed intelligent design, where so much of this dungeon didn¡¯t.

    On the far wall, a dimly backlit pane of frozen ice stood. I held the light up even higher to try and get a better view. There seemed to be a body inside. We walked across a grated flooring. Chilled air traced a coiled path as I moved. There didn¡¯t seem to be much under my feet, and Dusk walked in without a care. That meant nothing too large or angry was nearby. My nonfireball weilding hand sat ready to grab [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in case things turned angry.

    We came to a railing, and below that was a drop off that seemed to be without end. In the middle of the pit was an upright tub of sorts. Water or some other liquid chilled the air and made my ball of fire sputter. Inside of it was Viper, his body unmoving and both eyes closed. He looked asleep but suspended. Apparently the reason his dot hadn¡¯t moved was because Viper sat in suspended animation.

    ¡°He¡¯s survived down here with all those bits of loot for eight days. That¡¯s pretty impressive.¡± I said to Dusk. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] laid back an ear and sniffed the frozen pool.

    Even Android Seven had died once, against the boss from what I could tell. Knowing that such a powerful player died in this place helped me feel better. Technically we were even on the failure front. Viper''s continued survival, frozen though he was, helped both of us. He got points for living, and I didn¡¯t lose them from his death. Contribution value would probably be low, at least if it functioned like Advance Online. Players were only worth what they actually did, and this funny suspended animation helped no one.

    I looked around for an obvious release. Continue Online¡¯s answer to problems often ranged from insanely complex to absurdly simple. Once I had been stuck at a tower door that required a long mathematical algorithm to solve, one I hadn¡¯t applied since doing statistics classes.

    A small panel stood against one wall. There were two obvious buttons of green and red waiting to be pressed. One likely would release Viper from his safe but useless prison. There were a few skeletons around, one lay near the panel. It was clear that this deceased person, staged NPC or Traveler remains, had been trying to press the red one. Probably because they released something scary.

    I looked around again, this place felt like a ground zero for the dungeon. Not a final boss room or habitat jungle, but where some foolish person had released dangerous monster clones. Everything here looked devoid of any actual meat, and some of the bones showed marks from being gnawed. I picked up one of the skulls and held it between Viper¡¯s frozen form and I.

    ¡°To thaw, or not to thaw, that is the question. Wheather ¡®tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of asshole teammates, or solo the boss despite the troubles. And by opposing end it? To die, and respawn once more.¡± I tossed the skull to the ground and sighed. Reciting my makeshift Shakespeare resulted in a pop-up box but didn¡¯t actually solve the impending problem. Still, I felt lighter.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <ul>

    <li>Act: Theatrical learned!</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Dusk sniffed around, letting out echoing chirps which indicated interest. He did his thing, and I gave up deciding which way to go. Viper might help me or hinder me, and both depended on the other player¡¯s perceptions. Either way, I had a good way to solve dilemmas that had served me since it first showed up.

    [Wild Bill] came off my head and I turned it brim down. One hand went into the empty spot and a familiar weight appeared. I lifted away the hat and there was a small golden coin. These were good for only one flip and afterward faded away.

    ¡°Technically I don¡¯t have money right now, so this isn¡¯t a bet, just a tie breaker,¡± I spoke to Roy, the Voice of Gambling. He and the other Voices were probably listening in. There was no use in letting him take this the wrong way or I might end up with a debuff like [Deaf], [Punchy Drunk], or [Dysmorphic]. ¡°Heads we press the green one, tails the red one.¡±

    Dusk turned around as the coin rung. I caught it out of the air and flopped the coin into my hand. Tiny clawed feet scuttled up the panel''s side and looked under the hand I hesitated to lift. My face turned up in a wince as I too peered at the results

    ¡°Green?¡± I asked Dusk. The larger dragon shrugged then slammed a paw down on the button without hesitation.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Seventy Five - Larger than Unlife

    Steam hissed. Dusk watched without a care. I saw the frozen material around Viper start dripping instantly. The first layer slid off into the pit below, followed by more chunks. I let it happen. The button was pressed and part of me wanted to see how Viper¡¯s autopilot functioned.

    The idea was terrible of me, and I regretted it right away. Being cold towards players struck me as an odd desire because these were living breathing humans that would suffer to some extent. Squisks irritated me, though, and he died quick enough that it was no worse than punching a person in the face. NPCs passing would have been worse, though. I would certainly have abused [Blink] and [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in order to make a bridge and leap to their rescue.

    The more my journey went on, the less I enjoyed dealing with real people. At least the machine had never lied to me. Except about a fireball thing with [Detached Vitreous] ages ago. Dusk, Hal Pal, Jeeves, the Voices, all those in [Haven Valley], they were more real to me than my customers were.

    Down Viper slid, his body stuck out a hand and limply hung from the edge of his former frozen prison. Below was the pit of endless depth. His fingers locked in a death grip on the edge, despite a slippery looking surface. The player''s body started to curve towards one side, like a bow being bent backward.

    Dusk chirped at me a few times. I sighed then tried to reach across the short distance. Viper¡¯s autopilot was in effect at this point. The player himself could be anywhere, which meant we had freed a mindless puppet. Still, the empty shell of a person grabbed my hand and nearly crunched the wrist with an unexpected level of strength. I grunted and lifted him over. Excessive amounts of [Brawn] made it easy enough to lift up another player.

    ¡°We¡¯re team members right now, remember? Killing me loses points.¡± I told the machine version of Viper while trying to stay steady. There were at least two places to [Blink] to, but this close and my [Reaction] might not be enough.

    The other Traveler¡¯s eyes stared blankly in my direction then shifted. Narrow slits seemed to imply vacant offense at the ball of fire in my left hand. His autopilot looked really crude, or being frozen had left it mentally absent. Was it a snake [Blessing] result?

    ¡°I don¡¯t trusst you,¡± It said with remarkable clarity. I had to check twice to see if this really was an autopilot, but it clearly was. If my autopilot could hand out quests, I guess Viper¡¯s could have trust issues.

    Dusk chirped in confusion. Viper backed up slowly and reached out for a wall. Lowered shoulders and hips reminded me of an animal being cornered. I took a step back and left the exit open. From there, Viper¡¯s character started sliding towards the door. My eyes followed the man in his free gear provided by the king as he reached the doorway.

    Viper¡¯s character straightened up and turned around slowly. The faded coloring of his autopilot returned to a normal light tone. He turned around and looked at me. I blinked a few times and squinted. The autopilot symbol that normally went on a player had vanished. Maybe he had been doing other things in his ARC while waiting to be killed or freed?

    ¡°Hermess. You¡¯re alive.¡± Viper said.

    ¡°Welcome back. Do you want to go kill the boss, or be a popsicle again?¡± I asked bluntly. My excitement at running through the dungeon with Dusk left me eager to move onward. Maybe it was my [Red Imp] days coming back. Impatience with other players hit me frequently. That was the advantage of being Hermes, I could always keep traveling and moving to new places.

    Being in the [Abyss of Light] or [Black Hole of Zombies] or [Mad Scientist''s Lab] was starting to grate on me. Xin, she was out there. Would she get stats super-fast? Did the Voices give her a starting path? Maybe all her time in space flight training would add up to something cool? She could end up all Amazonian like Shazam had, only much shorter.

    I sighed and waited for Viper to come up with an answer. The man shook a little and moved slowly.

    ¡°Okay,¡± He said. ¡°I have to catch a plane in a few hourss, sso if you think we can get to the bossss? Thosse pointss would be usseful.¡±

    There were groans from somewhere down the hallway. Their seal barking noises echoed and made it impossible to tell for sure. Dusk hissed with both wings pressed together. I turned and held up my ball of flame. No enemies peeked through yet, but small creatures skittered around.

    ¡°Voices above!¡± I shouted feeling abruptly stupid for letting him free. ¡°Viper, do you still have all that loot?¡±

    ¡°Of coursse.¡±

    ¡°Dammit, they¡¯ll be here soon then.¡± I wished the [Red Imp]¡¯s ability to curse a stream of incomprehensible insanity had stayed with me. My own cuss word vocabulary was fairly limited. ¡°Are you going to drop it all, or fight?¡±

    ¡°No. We need pointss. We need them to get free.¡± The other man insisted.

    Ideas flashed through my head. My original vague plan of sneaking down to the boss room was now out the window. Whatever we did, it would require going full tilt. Spiders, legless zombies, full body ones with distortedly large limbs. Fuzzball creatures. Liquid light.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. We can make this work.¡± I had a gut feeling about this dungeon. Those barrels of starlight were all over the place the further down we went. It couldn¡¯t be a coincidence. We needed these, and the danger they presented somehow.

    ¡°Dusk! We¡¯ll need to run straight to the boss. Viper, if you want to help, follow him. Go!¡± I shouted at them then tried to ping the area again with my [Sight of Mercari] ability. Big O was up above a ways. Android Seven was gone? His dot didn¡¯t show up and my head hurt.

    ¡°Viper, Dusk, once we get into the boss room, don¡¯t stop. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be kiting a mess of these monsters.¡± I yelled as they started towards the exit.

    Dusk paused mid jump then chirped at me while a question mark floated above his head.

    ¡°Of course I¡¯m going to do something stupid.¡± My words seemed to confuse Dusk. Maybe the medium sized pet didn¡¯t expect such a sudden shift. I had days to think about it, so it didn¡¯t feel like a sudden plan to me, plus there was no reckless dive to survive as an old man, kill a jerk teenager, or rush to Earth.

    I could play the game to play the game. That meant a huge amount of relaxation, even if this place was intended to be a creepy looking prison camp. Maybe I was the weird one for adapting to such a weird place. The disturbed air these dripping walls cast felt almost normal after so much time.

    I was ready this time. My health was full, there were no negative status effects. [Power Armor] could easily help me last while being surrounded. Three game days of sneaking around, learning to use the boots and getting the layout down had helped. It was time to see who would get more attention, Viper and his pile of loot, or me, dipping myself into the starstuff.

    The ball of fire was thrown towards the doorway. Small spiders and undead [Coo-Coo Rills] squealed from burn damage. Excessive [Brawn] let me easily lift a nearby barrel up. Edges creaked and strained under the weight. I tipped it over on myself and bathed in the liquid. Tingles invaded every ounce of skin. Vision blurred while both eyes crossed from a rush of dizziness. One hand came up to forestall questions as I tried not to lose consciousness again.

    Viper¡¯s nearly glowing eyes looked at me for a moment then he shrugged. More loud barking came down the halls and made his head whip around. ¡°Enemiess. Those monsterss we can¡¯t kill. They¡¯re close.¡± He said.

    ¡°I can kill them, I think.¡± This was untested. They would be enraged, but maybe distracted. ¡°Hopefully they¡¯ll chase you while I do damage.¡±

    Four distinct barks could be heard now. Our enemies were closer drawing in from all over. I felt assured that this reckless idea was part of the solution. This dungeon gave us two things. One was a way to lure tons of the monsters around. The other was both a lure and a way to hurt them. Both would be needed. I suspected these things because of my many travels all around [Arcadia]. That and the Voices gave me a note saying ¡®Reach for the stars¡¯.

    Brief annoyance raced through me. There had been other letters, but most were illegible. I guess they had sat still for too long or were deleted due to irrelevance. Part of me felt worried about the Jester and his sketchy companion. Both of them were on edge over the expected death of someone. It wasn¡¯t Xin, was it? None of these notes had been from her, but maybe she was busy running around [Arcadia] somewhere.

    A closer set of enemy barks startled me out of the recollection. Dusk had already leapt down the hallway. Viper outright hissed but chased after the small bounding creature. I stopped to cough up another ball of fire since the first one had been used to murder spiders. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] sat hooked into loops on the starlight drenched toga. I felt thankful that Viper hadn¡¯t asked about the apparel change.

    My hand held the orb of flame at chest level as we ran. It felt warm and managed not to light my [Gait of Bowman] modified toga on fire. These lower floors kept getting darker. Less light dripped down the walls. Three days of roaming had really helped get me back in tune with the Continue Online character. Being used to Hermes the [Mechanoid] had thrown me off.

    ¡°There¡¯ss too many!¡± Viper hissed ahead. ¡°Thiss plan is recklessss!¡±

    Dusk squawked and belted out a flame. Smaller creatures were burnt. Six of the fast moving [Heavenly Body Clone]s were illuminated briefly but were unphased. They chased Viper as he ran. Apparently they had a preference for dead multitudes housed in Viper¡¯s player stash rather than my humble [Dipped in Starlight] status. How many corpses had he picked up? There had to be at least ten, but probably more.

    How many did we need? We might find out in the boss room, or we might find ourselves walking into a dead end with dozens of these things cornering us.

    [Blink] let me catch up with one of the monsters. I risked using [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] as a dagger and plunged it into exposed spine on one [Heavenly Body Clone]s. It fell forward and clawed at the air while both legs stiffened. There was no time to finish it off, and my single ball of fire was too clunky to wield with a weapon. Two handed combat was hard enough to do as a layman.

    ¡°More of thesse thingss!¡± Viper hissed.

    Dusk was rapidly dodging through ginormous legs and around grasping hands, but the new size seemed to be throwing him off. He missed more corners than normal. His health lost a few small slivers as we tore through the hallways. More monsters piled up behind us. They could have been drawn to any one of us.

    ¡°Are you ssure!?¡± Viper yelled in front.

    ¡°Worst case, we die!¡± I shouted back happily. For once, I was able to play the game as a game. Not as some man running to deliver letters in a rush.

    ¡°We can¡¯t lose pointss! If I losse too many pointss I¡¯ll kill you!¡±

    ¡°Dusk?¡± I yelled back while ignoring Viper¡¯s threats. ¡°Are we on course?¡±

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] managed to ripple with a shrug and nod while we ran. Either that or Dusk was jumping over a bunch of legless creatures. I kept running after them, trusting the game and my stats to keep both feet moving in the right direction. [Awareness Heightening] hadn¡¯t kicked into effect, and for that I was glad. The boss fight would probably hurt my mind enough once we got there. Temporarily kicking up the compression rate from four times reality¡¯s speed to eight hurt when I was [Blink]ing everywhere.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can keep thiss pace!¡± Viper sounded winded already.

    He was just running down the hallway. Of the two of us, I would be suffering more. Maybe part of me enjoyed it. This virtual reality often seemed to be the only place that felt real. Everything else was almost an intangible dream.

    ¡°No choice! You wanted the loot.¡± Even now, running for his life, the man didn¡¯t drop any items. He could have easily shed an untold amount of dead bodies. Honestly I was surprised he still ran with all the weight, and still outdid my [Dipped in Starlight] effect.

    Holding this fireball was like trying to balance a bowl in my hands while running. It threatened to slip with each corner. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] caught a few monsters, and some grasped at my skin with their beady hands. I stumbled and shook my foot loose.

    ¡°Keep going, we¡¯ve got to be close!¡± I yelled at him.

    We had to be. Dusk¡¯s chirps of excitement were nearly lost under the barking noises these monsters made. At least two dozen were trailing behind us. A few were moving slowly or outright missing a limb from my interference. All were intent upon getting to Viper and his deep stash of goods.

    Our passageway started to widen. The echoes of noise, our feet stomping, the monsters shuffling, and spiders squealing a pleasing death cry grew more intense. Dusk looked around at the walls as we ran. I too glanced as we kept going. There looked to be deep grooves dug out, all of which grew in size and frequency as we traveled.

    ¡°This lookss dangerouss.¡± Viper slowed down a bit. The monsters chasing him appeared hesitant to come into this passageway. Their jerking pauses indicated uncertainty. A few would catch up from further away and bump the crowd forward.

    Our corridor went on for another fifty feet before the cavern grew huge. There was a ceiling way up above but far out of reach. I briefly missed the wings of my [Red Imp], but not the stubbly legs. Both of my thighs ached from sprinting twice through this dungeon. Cheeks ached from a smile despite the situation.

    I liked this. This was what William Carver had lived for. This type of reckless disregard for self in favor of a rush of combat was infectious. If I saw Voices based on what was in my head, then perhaps I had desired this kind of event all along, why else would I see Leeroy? That probably meant my longing for Xin might be why Selena showed up, or that part of me wasn¡¯t a [Prude] at all because of a certain red skinned temptress.

    We kept crossing the room and slowly the floor narrowed to a single causeway. There seemed to be a giant pit on either side, but our platform was solid seeming. A few single bits of starlight hung on the ceiling. They looked like stalactites that had formed and been completely frozen.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing here,¡± Viper said. The bridge ended against another wall, small alcoves were dug into the wall as if someone had been trying to find treasure.

    My back tingled, and it wasn¡¯t from being [Dipped in Starlight]. Dusk looked around, both eyes wide as ears perked forward. Something was rumbling the dirt and reminded me of my first few days as Hermes. Viper was the last person who noticed.

    ¡°Careful!¡± I shouted mere seconds before a giant hand slammed over the walkway''s edge. The memory of [Barricobbler] tossing SheHulk, Elane, into the distance flashed through my mind. Being tossed here would put me face to face with a wall.

    The creature lifted itself forth while Dusk and Viper both hissed in unison. This was not a baby-faced giant, but it certainly was huge. Both hands were larger than I was. Bone shone through on the hand. Muscles wiggled around distorted gaps. The main body itself was almost proportionally correct for its limbs. This thing looked like a fully functioning version of the first giant monster I had found.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    It came up barking with deep angry noises. Its other broken looking fist swung for a few [Heavenly Body Clone]s trying to creep across the walkway after our party. His hand picked up two of the creatures in one swing and promptly brought them up to its face.

    I looked around rapidly and felt the world start to slow down. My heartbeat thudded loudly twice as I tried to understand the mechanics being presented.

    ¡°Dusk! Watch for little creatures!¡± I settled on killing spiders and those undead [Coo-Coo Rill]s first. They were down in this dungeon for a reason.

    Dusk expanded both wings and leapt off into the abyss on the opposite side our new enemy. The giant started lifting himself over the edge, not content to hang on the edge. It moved faster than [Barricobbler] by a wide margin. What Rank would this boss be at, twenty? Twenty-five maybe?

    It ate another straggling [Heavenly Body Clone] and light flooded through the creature. Bones and skin flushed with pure whiteness like the barrels had. My feet shuffled to the side slightly, trying to get myself ready for the next stage.

    ¡°Viper, it¡¯ll come after you soon!¡± I shouted.

    ¡°No sshit, Ssherlock,¡± He said dryly.

    ¡°Keep digging, Watson,¡± I muttered while doing an [Identification]. The results nearly caused me to laugh. Clearly the Voices thought my idle commentary was funny.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td colspan="4">Boss Encountered!</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Name:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Charge</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Race:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Decaying Heavenly Body]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Rank:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Yes he is</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">

    Charge was not always a monster.

    He is not Watson but does like digging.

    He remembers digging a hole through the world for treasure.

    He hates other people because they¡¯re not Charge.

    He likes squishing those not in Charge.

    He is hungrier than a school full of teenage boys.

    He will eat you.

    But Charge was not always a monster.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    His legs straddled the walkway like a bicycle. [Charge], the giant creature who was a few ranks above the [Heavenly Body Clone]s, reached out and bashed one of the far walls. Loud noise drowned out barking echoes from lesser enemies. A mass of them had piled up in the doorway. Some in the back pushed those in front like lemmings over a cliff.

    He turned and looked at me. I stared back and readied [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in the two-handed form. The second blade stayed hooked in my belt, ready to be pulled out and used.

    The throng at the doorway tried to grasp at the bigger one, attempting to tear out chunks for their own hunger. These zombie creatures didn¡¯t discriminate. [Charge] blinked his eyes and backed up.

    ¡°Disssgussting,¡± Viper said with his nose wiggling.

    Dusk was already hard at work setting smaller creatures alight. There was one thing that might make this insanely darkened scene feel better. I regripped the blade in one hand and tried to figure out what to do with the ball of fire. My planning went on for too long as [Charge] started to slowly turn around, half a [Heavenly Body Clone] sat broken in its mouth.

    ¡°Leeeeroyy!¡± I shouted while charging towards the monster''s back.

    One giant arm hung onto the walkway as an anchor. Small bits of rock wiggled from above but nothing major came down. My legs bunched at the last second as I leapt towards the giant¡¯s back. [Charge] reacted instantly and twisted around. His free arm batted into my side deflecting the leap towards a mass of [Heavenly Body Clone]s.

    Half fleshed faces and giant limbs reached out for me. My arm pumped wildly throwing the ball of fire into the crowd. Monsters growled and barked in pain. One fell down then was immediately set upon by its former peers. My feet touched down as I fell. Shin bumped against rock and gave me a small wave of pain that I tried to suppress. Limbs grasped at me, desiring my [Dipped in Starlight] body. I quickly looked up and used [Blink] near a wall. Barking noises followed me in the wake of a disorienting spin.

    [Charge] walked across the pathway looking like a glowing assed baboon. Chunks of our path crunched under its powerful and oversized palms. My new position made me victim to gravity and I started to fall. [Blink] couldn¡¯t trigger again fast enough and I tried to dig into the wall with an oversized blade. The motion only stalled my fall a little bit as I hung on. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was the wrong shape for such an action.

    ¡°Sscrew thiss!¡± Viper shouted. He threw blades towards the boss but they sunk in without doing any damage to the creature¡¯s health bar.

    I took a breath and tried to become steady. [Awareness Heightening] was in effect but it didn¡¯t change cooldowns on my abilities. My fingers tightened their hold and I once again [Blink]ed, this time above the enemy [Charge]. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] slid across flesh but failed to find purchase. My legs locked around an arm and I spun the blade to hack again. My body slid towards and upside position and head banged into its chest.

    ¡°Throw the bodies over the edge!¡± I shouted to Viper. ¡°Distract the lesser ones!¡±

    Dusk flew overhead and kept tossing fire around, illuminating enough of the scene. Small spiders clung to a burning web up above. I would have been happy were there time to appreciate the death of so many bugs.

    [Charge] went crazy and started beating at me, the ground, and anything within reach. I shifted [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] to one hand while the other anchored into the creature''s broken flesh. Dizziness swept through my head as we banged around.

    Viper was tossing legless [Heavenly Body Clone]s over the edge. Barks echoed through the cavern as some of the more complete monsters tried to dive after fresh sources of food. Dusk sent small balls of fire after them. Heat seared through the room as the player hissed.

    The walkway was taking a huge beating. Formerly smooth paths were now jagged or outright missing in places. Cracking could be heard from above. Monsters of various shape all flooded over the edge in their mindless dives.

    [Charge] grabbed me with both hands. My free foot struggled but found a solid platform to activate [Power Armor]. Metal banging preceded a sudden expansion of my toga. It hardened under the monster''s grip. Portions slid out in stages as [Charge] tried to both squeeze me to death and lift my body towards its face. A final chunk slammed tight over my head just in time.

    ¡°Sshit!¡± Viper hissed in surprise.

    [Charge] grunted from the effort chewing on my head. He was like a giant child chewing on a jawbreaker a size too big. My vision narrowed down to one small sliver that drool and bad breath could still make it through. The pressure around my chest loosened. Deep barking noises rattled my eardrums. I tried to see a location to [Blink] to but nothing was visible but glowing nasty teeth and bits of white blood from the dead [Heavenly Body Clone]s

    Status effects for [Deafened] and [Dizzy] came up. I started swinging wildly, unable to fully appreciate the neatness of [Power Armor]. [Awareness Heightening] made each moment with my head in this creature¡¯s mouth feel like an eternity. Seeing anything past this visor while my arms were pinned was impossible. I didn¡¯t even have time to consider where [Wild Bill] had gone.

    The monster kept chewing. Viper was saying something. Smaller barks could be heard in the middle of other ones. I shifted [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] to a one-handed short sword and tried to jab at the monster. I couldn¡¯t even see its health bar, and all the chewing was starting to make progress even on my [Power Armor].

    My other hand stuck out, one foot pressed hard against the monster. Knees ached from trying to push back. Using [Recall] brought [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] into my free hand. I couldn¡¯t even tell what shape it had and [Dizzy] screwed up my concentration. Both weapons flailed at the monster and the barks started sounding strained.

    A solid stream of blue shone through a hole in [Charge]¡¯s cheek. The energy didn¡¯t hit us but did get the walkway.

    ¡°Sshit! Android Sseven!¡± Viper¡¯s loud hiss sounded muffled but close. Had we walked forward? Did [Charge] try to get him while still chewing on me? Everything started tipping to one side. [Charge] gave up his grasp on me and tried to stay upright.

    We both started falling off the edge. A second stream of blue came through while I tried to get my bearings. [Dizzy] made my eyes cross. A film of glowing slime made it harder to see. Viper was falling along with the rest of us.

    I managed to [Blink] closer to the other player as all of us fell from the ledge. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] fell from my hand into the abyss while I tried to get [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into a longer pickaxe type shape.

    Viper¡¯s hand was close enough to clasp onto mine. The Traveler had an instant death hold. A message talking about [Constrictive Grip] flashed by but I had no time to read the text. We were still falling. Sparks flew as [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] struggled to find purchase. Our path downward slanted enough and I pumped my arm into the wall, hoping that my fledging [Mountain Man] skills from training with Shazam might kick in.

    ¡°Hang on!¡± I strained to keep a hold of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and Viper. Dusk clung to a wall chirping as we slid downward. He might have been thinking something clever, but it was blocked by [Power Armor].

    I almost regretted saving the other Traveler. With just myself I could probably have survived or even made it back to the top. Even neater, I probably could have found Android Seven, {Blink][/b]ed to him and then pulled him from whatever perch he hid at. Still, going back up would have been a death warrant because of all the remaining [Heavenly Body Clone]s.

    More energy blasts poured down from above. They were growing increasingly accurate. I tilted my head back and managed to see a body up above, glowing with blue light. That must be where Android Seven was, hanging from the ceiling, trying to kill us and take the boss loot for his own.

    We slipped even further.

    ¡°Viper! Will you be okay?!¡±

    I had no idea what he said. The man shook, another bolt of blue came down along with more [Heavenly Body Clone]s. The grip on my free arm vanished. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] slid again under the sudden change of pressure. [Power Armor] still weighed me down. Dusk¡¯s anxious chirping, undead monsters'' fading barks as they fell, and a hum of energy as we fell were all magnified under [Awareness Heightening].

    I let the [Power Armor] go and felt a wash of grossness as my clothes turned back into a gore-drenched toga. Vision tilted down as I tried to get a handle on how far we were from the bottom.

    Dusk dove, and let out a fireball lighting up the path. It vanished like a penny down an endless well. It was far, far below. I looked back up and saw a fifth blast of blue.

    ¡°Voices above, I hope you¡¯re enjoying yourselves.¡± I grumbled, tried again to halt my impending decent, but the weapon slipped.

    Down I went. [Awareness Heightening] slowed time as I fell. My heartbeat was racing now, no longer a dull thud in the background. Moments like this were what nightmares were made of. Falling, dead bodies around me, death being rained from above. Dusk gave one slow chirp that was lost. I looked up and saw those two points of frozen starlight growing faint in the distance.

    My body jerked and I had a small eternity where I expected pain to radiate from my legs upward. My arm jerked out of its socket and side slammed into a wall. Those parts of my body hurt and numbness shot down one leg as my kneecap jerked into something.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got you,¡± Viper said. He repeated the words a few times as I looked around trying to find some place to [Blink] to safely. Gravity had driven the thought of trying a last minute change of direction out of my head. I ground my teeth and felt like a newbie, despite all that I had been given or trained for.

    The ground was close enough to see. I [Blink]ed down and got onto hands and knees for a moment as my heartbeat settled. [Awareness Heightening] started to fade and the world once again took on its normal speed. My belly shook and quivered as I tried to push forward.

    One foot at a time. Both legs slowly worked and I stood upright. My healthbar was under half. Mana barely existed. [Morrigu''s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] clattered on the floor nearby. I stumbled to pick up my weapons and started feeling better.

    ¡°Hermess? Are you ssound?¡± Viper said. He must have climbed down somehow. His words seemed off to me. I looked around and tried to figure out what had happened.

    [Charge] lay there on the bottom floor. One arm reached out awkwardly as it tried to go for a debilitated [Heavenly Body Clone] that had fallen down. Gouged out chunks of flesh littered its chest and face from my wild stabs. Multiple smaller monsters looked like broken pancakes. I felt only mildly surprised when all these creatures managed to move arms and fingers in twitches. This fight had gone on too long. The boss barked one last time before my weapons gouged through the creature¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Yes. I feel much better now.¡± I said, satisfied that this fight had gone a much different route from [Barricobbler]. This creature''s death was more proof of my recovery. Xin''s return only served as part of my improvement. My bravery and willingness to leap into combat and save someone, the abilities I had. I had changed. I was better. My eyes closed briefly and I dared to feel just a little bit of happiness.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Seventy Six - The Breach

    <cite></cite>Stabbing creatures was excruciating with one arm barely functional. I tried to use the trick Shazam had taught me to get an arm back into the socket. The failure cost me health each time. Try number three popped up a message as game mechanics resulted in success.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Rearming yourself the wrong way?

    Total Health Remaining: 30%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Nngh,¡± I grunted while flexing fingers slowly. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] would be easier to wield now. Shoving a blade into [Charge]¡¯s eyeball with the limb out of joint had hurt intensely.

    My monster ending spree didn¡¯t stop with the boss. There were other [Heavenly Body Clone]s that were even now falling down. Some piled up together. Luckily [Undying] was subject to the whims of [Gravity]. Their bodies cast of a small amount of illumination, but most of it came from the now dead [Charge]. [Dipped in Starlight] allowed me to finish more off.

    ¡°Well,¡± Viper said dryly after a glance in my direction. ¡°That¡¯ss that. Now we have to esscape.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re full of loot, we need to survive and get back topside,¡± I said with an exhausted sigh.

    There were items, but none of them looked interesting at this point. Continue Online didn¡¯t really operate by a magic scroll dropping system so I couldn¡¯t just dig through endless bodies and come up with a ring of stupidity plus seven. Viper seemed to have some system so I settled for re-deading these undead creatures.

    ¡°Hurry up,¡± I said after making sure two more [Heavenly Body Clone]s stopped moving. They were falling down and creating an ever heightening pile.

    Briefly, my eyes trailed a path upwards. Could we just let them stack up and then walk back off the ledge? No, that would take thousands of monsters, plus risk our loot. The idea was proof of my exhaustion.

    One hand waved at the system menu to pull up a clock. Nearly four AM, sunlight wouldn¡¯t happen this early anyway. Four days in-game was twenty-four hours of awareness. I needed sleep, food, and sunlight.

    ¡°Almosst. All thiss is good for uss.¡± Viper said while gathering up loot. ¡°Pluss, now I know ssecretss to thiss dungeon.¡±

    ¡°Reckless disregard for personal safety?¡± I quipped before feeling flushed. Well rested Grant would never say such a thing.

    ¡°Yess. And moving fasst. I¡¯m ssure other convictss would pay me a hundred pointss at leasst.¡± He shrugged then moved to the giant pile of bodies that kept increasing.

    Selling information about a dungeon wasn¡¯t my style. My life was more about moving from one destination to the next. If Xin¡¯s jailbreak didn¡¯t happen, I could easily do boss runs instead. Maybe. This one would have been impossible to solo. We were lucky Dusk¡¯s pest control served well as a third member.

    Pinging the area showed Android Seven far above. Big-O¡¯s group was nowhere near us. There were marks on the wall where the larger creature had clawed. Even this entire pit we sat in looked like it had been widened out at the base.

    My foot tapped the ground. This flooring felt far sturdier than the dirt and rock walls. Was there a paneling here or something housed down below? Had [Charge] really liked to dig so much he hit a zone boundary for Continue Online?

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] stabbed at the hard surface a few times but the floor didn¡¯t even scratch. This might be a mystery for another person with the luxury of time. I turned to Viper and said, ¡°We need to go quickly before other players can respawn and get in our way.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m full on loot, forty-six cores, the essence stone is getting heavy too. Any more and movement will be difficult.¡± Viper nodded. I glanced over and saw him holding a little crystal near the dead bodies. Sparks of energy jumped between the deceased and his small item. I really didn¡¯t live the life of a normal adventurer, so cores, essence stones, dungeon crawling loot was beyond me.

    I shook my head. There were boxes waiting for my attention telling me about our boss fight results. Based on battle contribution and the fact that we were both still alive, I had gained about two hundred points. The box got waved away.

    Dusk crawled down a wall carefully. He snuck over to a crevice nearby. His face poked through and let out a happy murmur of noise before vanishing.

    ¡°Watch for Android Seven,¡± I said to Viper while pressing a hand to my head. [Dipped in Starlight]¡¯s status message flickered while my body felt heated.

    Dusk turned and squawked. I faded out briefly while staring at Viper. The man managed to look up while barely tilting his head. Eyes bugged out a little and Viper¡¯s body bowed. Then he shook and returned to a normal posture.

    I pretended not to have been staring, in hopes that [Act: Straight Face] might keep me from looking disturbed. The crevice pass way led to a steep ramp upwards. My ball of fire showed fairly solid walls, but our path was narrow. Dusk was small and wiggly enough to not be thwarted.

    One arm felt distorted and kept getting stuck. Viper grumbled a bit. I tried to use [Blink] to get further up the walkway. The system happily told me no.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Self-preservation has disallowed this action. Further attempts to meld your arm with a wall will result in damage.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°So, what are you in prison for?¡± I asked Viper as we crept our way upwards. Each step ached and my fingers were barely responsive.

    ¡°Bodyguard. A player bribed me with two hundred gold to let him in for a ssecret meeting. Then killed a persson. Who knew letting NPCss die had conssequencess?¡± Viper said from behind me. He moved slower than I. ¡°Ended up with a thousand pointss to work off.¡±

    That explained why he seemed fairly calm working with me. Bodyguards probably had all sorts of quests to interact with questionable people. It would only be a matter of doing the job and getting paid.

    Our path kept going upwards. My ankles hurt. Knees buckled and my damaged arm failed to prevent a spill. Viper got caught in the slip as we dropped a dozen steps. He hissed at me but said nothing.

    ¡°Lucky.¡± I dusted off while trying to ignore the glowing white to my skin. [Dipped in Starlight] still flashed. Barks from half broken [Heavenly Body Clone]s were echoing far below us.

    We traveled another twenty feet before Viper asked, ¡°How many criminal pointss did you get sstuck with?¡±

    ¡°Seven thousand.¡± We were almost level with [Charge]''s floor. Our path tilted up unceasingly. I lifted the fireball and winced as my weight shifted. Light bounded up the hallway.

    Viper hissed a low tone. He settled on saying, ¡°That will take ssome time.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± I said.

    ¡°Ah. It¡¯ss time for my flight. The car iss here.¡± The man said.

    My upward climb halted. Turning to look at Viper didn¡¯t reveal much in the way of expression. He never seemed to have much positive or negative tone. Everything felt almost passively ¡®obsserved¡¯. Even now he looked barely annoyed at the idea of leaving his character behind.

    ¡°I should take a break too. Have a safe flight.¡± I tried to sound professional and polite but couldn¡¯t feel much of anything.

    Continue Online¡¯s reality as I logged out from the ARC. Dizziness hit as I stood. Lingering sensations from Hermes made walking hard. I inched towards the kitchen while clutching the wall. Everything in my two room home felt too open. Still, I might have claustrophobia by later today. Four mental days in a cave system couldn¡¯t be helpful.

    Food went down without thought about taste. Two glasses of water were gulped as I tried to focus. It was too early for coffee. Middle age ruined my ability to pull all night sessions.

    Only one goal mattered right now, escaping with Viper and our points. An hour, maybe more of awareness would get me through. Afterward, I could give into the exhaustion threatening to drown my mind in unconsciousness.

    I logged back in and felt immediately depressed. Our characters were standing in front of a dead end. My eyes closed briefly and time seemed to skip. It was too late for such nonsense. Another message sat off to the side flashing for attention.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Convict Brand: Docile Binding] activated!

    This function of the [Convict Brand] will slowly reduce Traveler abilities and stats. Complete restriction of abilities will occur in twelve hours. Docile Binding can only be initiated through an approved user of the [Brand Anchor].

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Oh no.¡± I groaned. We had under two hours to make it to the surface. Would my abilities shut off as well? This was not neat at all! ¡°Dusk? Can you be unsummoned or something?¡±

    The little guy, who I still thought of as tiny despite his larger size, chirped a few times then did a circle. There was no message box above his head that might help.

    Walls rattled. Dirt fell from above and crumbs got into my hair. Something could be heard digging at the wall nearby. My small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] hissed in unison with Viper. Both were upset. Their echo made me turn around to stare at them.

    I looked around then quickly pinged the area with [Sight of Mercari]. Players weren¡¯t near us, so that left [Heavenly Body Clone]s trying to dig tunnels to us.

    Dusk had fireballs. I had [Blink] and sharpness of shape shifting objects. Too bad I was exhausted. The disorientation of [Blink] and [Awareness Heightening] would probably make me pass out if used excessively. Sure they were overpowered, but only if I was rested in real life. Running this character now was like a high powered car in a drunk¡¯s hands.

    I took a breath and looked upwards. The ceiling was a mixed sort of dirt. The walls kept flaking off and scraping could be heard. Muffled barks of noise could be heard both in the walls and behind us. If monsters could dig through to me, maybe we could mine a path out.

    Both eyes closed as I pinged again. Wyl was close. Other players were too, probably brought back to base by the [Convict Brand]. At least six people had respawned recently, but the names didn¡¯t line up.

    ¡°Dusk, can we, get back to Wyl from here?¡± Dusk knew who Wyl was. We had spent hours talking to the man during the William Carver era.

    Dusk stared up at me with his head tilted. Tiny claws started tearing away at the wall. Dirt gathered behind us rapidly. I reformed [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] into pickaxes and swung them in both hands. There was no finesse to my efforts. My actions might have been the flailing of a confused child. Still, [Brawn] and [Coordination] kept me moving forward through earthen walls.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t we do this before?¡± I asked.

    The wall tore apart in chunks under our combined effort. Dusk squawked as larger pieces hit me, then he hissed with annoyance. I didn¡¯t have the brainpower to do much besides keep swinging. Rocks echoed with noise.

    My head felt heavy and breathing was a struggle. Maybe dizziness hit me from a lack of virtual oxygen. Our steep climb took a toll, such that even Viper seemed to lack color. Or it was his autopilot being literally dull. I hammered away and tried not to grumble or huff. I couldn¡¯t tell how much progress we were making without a ball of fire.

    Walls below us started to crumble. Hands from [Heavenly Body Clone]s could barely be seen wiggling through the dirt. Viper stabbed some of them. There were other noises in the distance. Sounds like power lines overcharging. A flash of blue poured into the monster¡¯s freshly made hole, illuminating the darkness. Android Seven and his weird blue laser beams were completely insane. His dot sat at least three floors down. Fighting him again might be neat, from an objective standpoint, but deadly. The challenge of fighting another player didn¡¯t outweigh survival.

    Dusk and I needed to get Viper and his stock of loot to freedom. More chunks fell away while I grew dizzier. Exhaustion messages came up. Breathing came slower. Air felt heavy.

    I swung again and prayed that we were getting closer. [Convict Brand: Docile Binding] drained me slowly. Physical abilities being constrained made it harder to swing. Dusk started making more progress than I.

    Monsters behind us had started to arrive in droves by tearing apart the wall and wading through our dirty leavings. Viper fought a few off. There would be no fighting them in my condition, not anymore.

    Lifting chest muscles burned. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] went under my belt. Both hands gripped [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and swung. We lasted another four minutes while burying a pile of [Heavenly Body Clone]s behind us.

    My vision blurred. Every swing required three rapid breaths. I felt sharp nails dig at my heel. Dusk chirped in urgency at his tunnel. I tried to bend down and look but ended up falling instead. Pain radiated up a captured leg.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    There was a clear line of sight through to freedom. The narrow hole couldn¡¯t be much larger than Dusk was. He had broken through, though, three feet of dirt between us and the initial stairwell out.

    ¡°Shit.¡± I huffed and tried to understand while Viper¡¯s autopilot hissed. ¡°Viper, put your hand through! I¡¯ll pull!¡± [Blink] went off and I appeared in the barely visible pathway. My head swam and heartbeat stuttered.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hugged the wall wrong

    Total Health Remaining: 25%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I got back down on my knees and saw fingers poking through the hole. Dusk was on the open side trying to dig our small escape way out. Starlight dripped from the walls in large quantities, bleeding around the hole my [Messenger¡¯s Pet] made. I briefly wondered why we hadn¡¯t dug through veins of liquid on the other side, but there was no time to figure out these mechanics. The [Abyss of Light] clearly had secrets.

    [Brawn] was below half but that was more than enough. I got a firm grip on Viper¡¯s arm then pulled. Dirt ground along smoothed features and the man¡¯s health bar dropped. Shoulders looked disjointed but somehow he contorted into a thin shape. His face never looked more like a snake''s.

    His autopilot hissed on the way through then stood up and started running uphill. The face of a [Heavenly Body Clone] came through just behind him. I stabbed the monster with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift], silencing its barks. [Dipped in Starlight] flashed again.

    Viper shuffled ahead with one possibly broken leg. Dusk tossed a few balls of fire at the dirt, doing more harm to the dirt than my latest victim. I pinged the area again with [Sight of Mercari].

    Big-O and his trio were up with Wyl. Android Seven behind us but getting closer. He had to be near the entry path. The Traveler would be in for a surprise upon seeing all these [Heavenly Body Clone]s. Electrical hums echoed down the hall.

    Legs refused to run and my head dragged. Exhaustion pulled at me. I gave a halfhearted toss of [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] into the latest creature chasing after us. It pierced through and distracted a train of monsters for a moment. I [Recall]ed then tossed my spear formed weapon again, and again. Five throws and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] no longer had enough durability to risk another [Recall].

    We were so close to freedom. Liquid starlight started to fade in favor of actual sun. The dull scent of dirt and undead monsters mixed with flowers. I remembered that smell. Alyssum, tiny little flowers with a sweet fragrance. I got them for Xin all the time. That thought was delirium.

    I stepped out of the dungeon and was blinded by the fresh light. An abrupt pressure on my hands resulted in both arms being locked together in a restraining grasp. My body fell forward and Dusk made an odd noise. Both eyes closed and I almost dropped into unconsciousness.

    Continue Online felt distant. The ARC connection dimmed as my consciousness shut down. There were no boxes telling me we were in a safe zone for convicts, though.

    ¡°What?¡± I mumbled.

    ¡°Two more. They don¡¯t look like our man.¡± An unknown voice said. Strong arms lifted me from the ground. Viper had been cuffed and Dusk ran around anxiously. ¡°One¡¯s got a pet, tamer maybe.¡±

    We came into the square where our caravan first set down. Four weird ox giraffes were dead. The guards who sat up top with arrows were no longer at their posts. A man nearby screamed and it felt like an alarm clock going off. I tried to wake up enough to give everything a good look.

    [Arcadia] seemed to tilt sideways as I tried to reconcile everything. This was not neat. There were three players still alive. The guards who carried crossbows were dead and lying on the ground. People that didn¡¯t belong to our convict caravan had Wyl and Knight Middleton hostage.

    ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡± A huge man stepped forward. Scars rippled across the figure¡¯s body. ¡°Another prisoner? Kill him and continue to wait for Android Seven.¡±

    ¡°Bounty can¡¯t be worth all this, what, seven players, fifteen stupid NPCs?¡± One of the figures whispered.

    I felt too Voices damned tired to deal with this. Virtual statistics couldn¡¯t cure my physical exhaustion in reality. My mouth opened in a wide yawn. This jailbreak wasn¡¯t even for me, based on the few lines of conversation so far.

    ¡°Android Seven is down below. If I lead you to him, can you let us go?¡± I said after a deep breath of fresh air. My own worlds came out as a slur. Nearly four game days and being awake for over thirty hours straight counted against me.

    ¡°He said something about finding our bounty.¡± The man holding me said.

    ¡°No need. These convict train gangs always work the same way. He¡¯s bound to this place.¡± A large ogre of a man stepped over a dead body in our direction. ¡°We can farm the whole lot of them for easy experience, take the loot, anything else of value. Kill him, kill the remaining guards, and Android Seven will come out eventually.¡±

    Wyl looked upset. The Traveler holding Wyl had long pink hair. He swept to the side and brought up a glowing hand. I had to try and help but the world swam. My eyes settled on the broken pillar of light that both guards had once stood in. Solid chunks sat on the ground. I tried to understand how light could turn solid, but maybe I had been mistaken the whole time.

    Eyes closed once then opened slowly. [Blink] failed the three times in rapid succession. Boxes appeared. Neck muscles jerked while I tried to shake awareness into my head.

    This just wasn¡¯t my week. Luckily I could hear the solution coming in behind us. A body flashed into being as one of the other convicts resurrected. The timing worked out perfectly.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I shouted. ¡°Help Wyl!¡±

    Dusk launched a ball of fire straight into the pink haired Traveler''s back. Health dropped and his hair caught on fire. The former guard captain looked surprised but fell forward with a skilled tumble. In the span of three seconds, Wyl had broken loose, stolen another Traveler''s sword, and proceeded to stab someone in the back.

    ¡°Kill them all!¡± The giant Traveler said. Viper¡¯s autopilot slipped an arm loose. I managed to initialize [Blink] on the fourth try and tumbled.

    Others moved and I could barely keep tabs on anyone. My normal skills at group dances plus Shazam¡¯s training would have helped predict people¡¯s movements, but sleepiness won. For now, I only need to get away from the dungeon doorway. Barks could clearly be heard.

    Viper and I both were magnets for monsters from the dungeon. I managed to get my two handed version of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] out and swung at one of the Travelers. Big-O was attacking someone while another random convict died. This madness would only get worse once the undead breeched.

    ¡°Wyl! Run!¡± The guard''s head snapped up with awareness I couldn¡¯t manage. ¡°Follow Dusk!¡±

    Wyl looked troubled and stared briefly towards another body. I followed his gaze while staggering under a heavy blow from the larger Traveler. Knight Middleton lay upon the ground, his health bar empty.

    Heavy hammering hit my giant sword again. I grunted, then twisted my foot against the ground. The toga rippled and flexed. Metal clunked together rapidly then a helmet slammed with a clink. [Power Armor] was in place. The next blow dented my side but was too late for a gutting blow.

    Barks came forth from the [Abyss of Light]¡¯s doorway. Everyone¡¯s heads turned in unison to look at the monsters pouring out. A small wave of legless [Heavenly Body Clone]s came first. One player stood his ground and started hacking away.

    Then the [Undying] versions started arriving. Small spiders scuttled along the doorway followed by undead [Coo-Coo Rill]s. I could hear the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] happy chirp which made me shout orders.

    ¡°Viper! Dump the bodies or we¡¯re all dead! Dusk, no cupcakes if you get distracted!¡± I yelled. Speaking through exhaustion made me feel barky myself. All those monsters pouring out had parts of my mind reacting but awareness itself seemed distant. Being slammed by a blade while in a tin suit didn¡¯t help.

    ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry!¡± Another voice yelled from the crowd of emerging bodies. ¡°I don¡¯t take kindly to people hunting me down! You can all just die! And I¡¯ll be taking those bodies too!¡±

    Android Seven stood in the doorway with an army of undead flowing around him. His arm held up charging another bolt of blue. It was aimed in my direction. For a moment, I stared at the blue light and contemplated checking out completely from Continue for the night.

    Gutted stats, sleepiness, low health. I couldn¡¯t sit around here and deal with brawling nonsense. My teammate''s autopilot started pouring bodies out into a pile adding to the chaos. Another respawning Traveler appeared with a flash of light and promptly started screaming like a girl seeing two rotting ponies humping each other.

    [Blink] failed again and I was left stumbling to the right. Blue energy flashed across then slammed into the brute who had been hammering on my two handed [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. A woman stood on top of the wooden barricade that a crossbowman had been standing on. She looked to be reading a scroll while facing Wyl.

    I ran towards her. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] didn¡¯t have enough durability for a [Recall]. [Blink] triggered on the third attempt and a full blown headache started. My body tumbled into the female. Messages flashed across and I waved them away while readying my blade.

    Armor clinked as I rolled to my feet. My character¡¯s stats were almost back to day one level, but I could still right myself. Each step forward must have been terrifying to her. This [Power Armor] should be littered with glowing blood from [Heavenly Body Clone]s. My two handed sword sat comfortably in one hand, betrayed [Brawn] I didn¡¯t have right now. All the gear was nearly black as night.

    ¡°Not me! Don¡¯t kill me!¡± The woman shouted while throwing up both hands. ¡°I was just paid to break the pillar!¡±

    ¡°You tried to kill my friend,¡± I mumbled at her. Wyl was an NPC, they didn¡¯t grow on trees or respawn instantly. They weren¡¯t like monsters from some vague dungeon. When it came down to player versus digital comrade, one of them would survive a deathblow.

    Barks overpowered the area. I kept stomping forward. Wood creaked beneath my feet. People nearby screamed as convicts and free Travelers alike were overrun.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a job! They haven¡¯t even paid me my share of the money yet!¡± She kicked away from me. Her weapon fell over the edge.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think of this as me killing you, think of it as me speeding up your trip back to town,¡± I said while bringing down [Morrigu¡¯s Gift].

    Her eyes went lifeless as the blade slid through her chest. I felt sickened. Breath shortened to heaving gasps while I tried to remember she had been part of the group intent upon killing us. I really didn¡¯t enjoy being around other players anymore. They made me do things like murder them.

    Viper was shuffling after Wyl. Both of them looked to be worse off than I was, which was impressive. I heaved another breath to steady myself against sickening exhaustion. [Blink] went off and this time I managed to stay on my feet.

    Viper¡¯s autopilot halted in front of me. I tried to talk but was drowned out. Noises were overpowering the yells of players. Sizzles, blue beams, and earth rumbling filled in the silence between barks.

    ¡°Viper, you¡¯re a bodyguard, and I¡¯ll pay you all the gold I have to get Wyl back to Haven Valley,¡± I repeated myself a few times.

    ¡°I don¡¯t trusst you to pay.¡± He uttered the same line.

    ¡°I saved your life, you saved mine. Trust me. I¡¯ll pay for my friend''s.¡± My unprofessional glare was covered by the [Power Armor] helmet. Shaking my head was tough and movements were restricted by the metal.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I can promise you the answer to one question, your choice, anything in the game.¡± To be accurate, James would tell me and I would pass it on. ¡°But I won¡¯t tell you if Wyl dies.¡±

    ¡°I do like ssecretss.¡± Viper¡¯s autopilot hissed. ¡°Deal, for now, Hermess.¡±

    I nodded, then turned towards the oncoming horde of monsters. This [Dipped in Starlight] had to go. Without the dead bodies and me as a lure, those monsters would eventually crawl back below. Hopefully.

    ¡°Carver!¡± Wyl yelled behind me. ¡°Is that you?!¡±

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± I said, feeling slightly more energetic. There were far worse people to be called. ¡°But I learned from the best!¡±

    Wyl¡¯s expression couldn¡¯t be seen. Dusk was chirping in the distance. Those damned [Heavenly Body Clone]s were barking in an unending flood. Some were held up by the pile of dead bodies Viper dropped off. The rest were locked in one me, a man stupid enough to hang around while being [Dipped in Starlight].

    The sword came up. WWCD? William Carver would happily go down swinging, and so would I. Still, after this week, I almost welcomed the release that dying might give me. Not literally, but the game took a toll on me. Why then, did charging those monsters in a reckless kamikaze of sleepiness feel so good?

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Seventy Seven - When the Sun Goes Down

    <cite></cite>Death came upon swift wings and with it the silence of dreamless slumber. Sometime later morning arrived, trumpeted by an startling ringtone. My hands didn¡¯t even move in a tempo with the pop song from twenty years ago.

    I groaned and tried to focus on the caller ID window floating nearby. Part of me knew because of the ringtone. Sure enough, my sister''s tired face sat on the preview. Her cheeks bloated out like a pufferfish.

    ¡°Liz?¡± I mumbled. My throat felt dry. ¡°What, what time is it?¡±

    My ARC happily provided numbers off to the side which I couldn¡¯t read. Liz¡¯s words were lost.

    ¡°Grant!¡± Liz shouted. ¡°Wake up!¡±

    ¡°Liz? What time is it?¡± I repeated as the world recovered from being shut down. It was like an ARC going out of service, only my brain had done it instead.

    ¡°Mom''s having a bad day, can you cover for me? I have to show up at work today, and-¡± She paused. "-you look like shit too. God dammit, what is with this family?¡±

    I waved at the screen and tried to speak but words were difficult. ¡°I played online too long.¡±

    ¡°You sure, it¡¯s not that, other thing?¡± Liz¡¯s voice turned low like we were in a conspiracy drama.

    ¡°No, it was a dungeon.¡± It was only four days in a game world running from zombies in dimly lit hallways while they tried to eat my flesh. ¡°I¡¯ll take today off and go visit mom, but I need sleep too.¡±

    ¡°So? Get in the van, and come watch Mom. You can sleep on the way.¡± My slightly older twin sister suggested.

    True to form, I listened to her. Not because she was bossy, Liz was, but mostly for the simple fact that mom might be in a bad spot. No matter how much the NPCs mattered, or Xin¡¯s existence, the video game side of Continue Online couldn¡¯t overrule reality. I wasn¡¯t a teenager anymore, loot and skill grinding didn¡¯t mean more than my only remaining parent.

    One hand scratched at various sleepy itches. I fumbled around trying to find clothes to wear. I found myself falling through the van door to my chair and trying to press buttons. Dry mouth suggested that a cup of coffee might have been helpful.

    ¡°User Legate?¡± The machine¡¯s sudden words barely made me jump. One hand twitched for a weapon that reality didn¡¯t have. ¡°You seem to be at lower than recommended performance levels. Please consider taking the day off.¡±

    ¡°Not work. Going to my mom¡¯s. Probably sleep.¡± I mumbled at the AI.

    ¡°Ah. It is our recommendation that you choose to complete a rest cycle.¡± Hal pal responded.

    ¡°I agree,¡± I said with a slow series of blinks. The real world outside my Trillium van looked damned bright. Days inside that dark starlight [Abyss of Light] had warped my standards.

    ¡°User Legate, we note a level of physical distress and will adjust the lighting accordingly.¡± My friend said.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I drooled the words. Three hours, that¡¯s all the actual sleep I had gotten.

    Once the windshield¡¯s opacity turned down the world felt much better. Yet again modern technology helped me survive. I shuddered to imagine a world where cars needed to be driven manually or people had to wait in long lines for breakfast.

    ¡°Bring Viper, please.¡± I couldn¡¯t even articulate my thought. The mumbled words were followed by a long blink. This chair really was quite comfortable.

    ¡°One moment. Accessing Continue Online avatars for relation to Hermes'' character.¡± Hal Pal spoke and the drone was lost under the sound of our van wheels. ¡°Possible match found, Ultimate Edition User John Messier, Avatar Viper.¡±

    ¡°Ultimate Edition?¡± They were supposedly super rare. My addled brain tried to run through the calculations on how likely meeting another Ultimate Edition user was but failed.

    ¡°Affirmative. User Legate has encountered three other Ultimate Edition users in his travels.¡±

    ¡°Who else?¡± I couldn¡¯t even lift my head to look at the AI.

    ¡°Your current administrative rights include John Messier, Lia Kingsly, and Alfonse Stone.¡± Hal Pal said from behind me. ¡°All three are Ultimate Edition users according to their profiles.¡±

    ¡°Alfonse Stone?¡± That name sounded familiar but I was too muddled to figure it out. ¡°Have I met them?¡±

    ¡°Not directly. Alfonse Stone is a founding partner of the Stone Firm, where Stan Middlemire works. You may remember his character, Frankenstein?¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± I did remember him. The man had an odd fascination with dead bodies of all types. Not necrophilia that I could tell, but certainly piecing together animals. ¡°Freakinstain''s boss?¡± I slipped into Requiem Mass¡¯ nickname for Stan.

    I should have said hello to the guy more. He seemed jumpy in real life. The only impression really left was a stuttering man who seemed more comfortable with automatons of various types than people. Maybe in that regard, we weren¡¯t as different.

    ¡°Show me John, Viper, first.¡±

    ¡°One moment, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal responded.

    He looked ragged and the player''s chest lifted with exaggerated breaths. Darkness littered the world of Continue Online. Viper¡¯s character sat across a small bonfire staring at Wyl. The two of them seemed to be in an odd standoff. Autopilot convict and Traveler versus former guard captain and Local.

    The guard captain looked wounded. He moved arms in a well-practiced circle around his uncovered torso. There seemed to be a nasty gash on his stomach that had likely come from another Traveler during the escape. Wyl said something but it was inaudible.

    ¡°Sound?¡± I asked Hal Pal.

    ¡°One moment.¡± The machine repeated.

    ¡°You don¡¯t talk much, do you?¡± Wyl said while winding the bandage around. ¡°But why should you? You¡¯re not even there right now. You damn Travelers and your puppet spirits.¡±

    Viper stared across the fire. He looked beat up but made no move to clean himself up or address any wounds. The autopilot seemed content to bleed all over the gear provided by King Nero¡¯s little box during our first day. Mine had mostly been replaced by [Bound] gear.

    ¡°Tell me how long you¡¯ve known Hermes.¡± The guard captain ordered.

    The slit-eyed Traveler ignored Wyl¡¯s demand while looking around for signs of danger. His gaze shifted slowly between trees and bushes nearby. Their firepit of a camp seemed hidden enough to me, but I used to have gear and items to help with [Wilderness Survival].

    ¡°Tell me how you received Nyassa¡¯s blessing.¡± Wyl cinched the last piece of his bandage in place then tossed the remaining roll over to Viper¡¯s autopilot. Fire sputtered between them as the bodyguard started binding his own wounds.

    The partial snake didn¡¯t answer Wyl.

    ¡°Of course not. You Travelers, it¡¯s hard to pry anything out of most of you. Then there are the ones that never shut up.¡± Wyl grunted while trying to wiggle into a tight chest piece.

    Viper remained quiet.

    ¡°First Traveler I ever met, a man by the name of William Carver, he was a great person. Always willing to help, never asked for repayment. Just charged into danger on the behalf of good and decent folk.¡± The guard captain put out both hands towards the flame and winced.

    Viper still said nothing.

    ¡°You know that man you were with, reminded me of old Will. I thought maybe they were related. Maybe that son he always talked about.¡±

    Still nothing. Most autopilots rarely held a conversation outside of one-liners. William Carver¡¯s autopilot had been one of the most advanced, next to Xin. If I considered it, she was basically nothing more than a series of memories compiled together.

    Then again, what were any of us besides a series of moments stacking on top of each other? I wondered briefly if Mother had built in a blur for interpretation and erroneous recollections of the past. Were machine AIs like James, Mezo, or Ray born with perfect memories?

    Viper and Wyl were both alive at least. That was something. Time skipped shortly as the playback resynchronized with current events. Wyl stood up in fast forward and a splint under his leg became more obvious. The man had broken or sprained a limb.

    ¡°Why help me, Viper?¡± Wyl asked the autopilot after limping around the firepit.

    ¡°I wass hired to keep you ssafe.¡± The autopilot hissed a simple sentence.

    Wyl didn¡¯t say thanks. His eyes narrowed in suspicion and he glanced back towards the east. I tried to figure out which way they had run from the video playback angle but failed. Hopefully getting back to Wyl, much less not dying upon respawn, would be simple enough.

    Voices help me if all those players were still resurrecting and fighting each other. What exactly happened to a convict caravan if it fell apart? NPCs wouldn¡¯t magically appear to control everything. Maybe King Nero would run a dispatch of some sort.

    ¡°Show, Mister Stone please,¡± I said to Hal Pal. Calling him Alfonse felt weird.

    Viper¡¯s image shut down while a new one came into being. I blinked at the difference in brightness.

    A Traveler sat under three lamps. They hung overhead with crystalline strings dangling between them. The table and book shelves around were no less opulent. Rolls of parchment were carefully stored in multiple racks.

    He held a long quill in one hand and seemed more interested in the feather tip than any boxes. Still, despite apparent disregard, his ink never smudged nor did anything go outside the line. Not one stray drop came from the inkwell nearby. Even from this remote viewing, it was hard to miss the mechanical neatness.

    ¡°Form seventeen oh nine. Completed, in triplicate.¡± His suave voice said. The man appeared immaculate as always. Last time I had seen him my face was shoved into a king¡¯s flooring. He picked up the form and aired it out, helping the ink dry.

    ¡°Excellent. You are efficient for a Traveler, Mister Stone.¡± Another man stood in the room. In his hands was a clipboard. This person had to be the beanpole who jotted down notes for King Nero.

    ¡°I have always prided myself on my ability to navigate legal paperwork, a matter of job security you understand.¡±

    They shared a look that implied brief amusement. I weakly snickered, having received confirmation that bureaucracy had been designed as a deliberate headache. Dad was right. He had been right.

    I felt tired again. My brain wanted to shut down rather than deal with the impending parental conversation. Last weekend passed easily enough given the suddenness. That ease of handling my father¡¯s death could most likely be attributed to everyone else being in shock.

    ¡°Of course, though to be honest, I never understood the need to have three copies of everything.¡± The seneschal said after their shared joke.

    ¡°The original practice was to have backup copies filed in various locations.¡± Mister Stone straightened his cuffs then started on another stack of papers. He made short notations along the border. ¡°A matter of keeping the paperwork safe from those who might wish to tamper with it.¡±

    ¡°Where could we store them? There¡¯s hardly enough room, last week some Travelers, Voices let it have been Travelers, burned down two storerooms. In addition to the wars and strife caused by your-¡± The man who had been holding a clipboard during my entire trial paused with his mouth hanging open. ¡°-pardon my poor manners.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± The man sighed and set about writing carefully onto another form. ¡°I often stand there, defending their actions and wondering if it¡¯s the right thing to do.¡±

    Their conversation paused for a moment and the ARC playback sped up to skip a moment of nothing. I watched as they bobbled in place before slowing down into speech. The other man¡¯s face pinched slightly around the eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s interesting. In my world, most cases are easily solved. Everything is watched and monitored. Whereas here, crime is harder to pinpoint.¡±

    ¡°It must be difficult for you, Mister Stone,¡± He said.

    ¡°Often all I can do is ensure no one person is targeted. Punishment must be consistent with the crime.¡± Mister Stone set his latest paper off to the side to dry then moved onto another sheet.

    The thinner man looked down and scanned over the pages being notated. Lips pursed together in thought before picking up various sheets and putting them on his clipboard. Mister Stone took no note and sat in his chair, continuing to pen away.

    ¡°My cousin, a knight who works on the Reparation Caravans, believes that Travelers are beyond redemption.¡± The standing man said.

    ¡°Not all, their, our nature makes it difficult to punish, but most here are simply unintentionally reckless. We need to simply figure out a better means of keeping them from overrunning everyone else as they go about your world.¡± Another piece of paper slid to the left as Mister Stone worked through.

    I tried to focus on what was being written. There were a few sheets about passports or taxation of people arriving at the kingdom. Other sheets implied members or groups of Travelers working on formal recognition by the kingdom. The few words that were visible implied a guild creation of sorts.

    Apparently the clipboard carrying man saw the same theme of paperwork as well. He asked, ¡°Have you heard, about this alliance of Travelers trying to undermine King Nero? Do you ever worry that you might be approving criminals with these forms?¡±

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Mister Stone, since he seemed to go by his last name in the game, put up a finger and hushed the clipboard-toting Local. Footsteps could be heard padding in a brisk walk. A third male burst into the room. This person looked much younger and was difficult to clearly see from the displayed angle.

    ¡°Sirs,¡± He said to both of them with a voice broken by hormones. ¡°Sir Stone. We received word about that Caravan you were following.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± The clipboard carrying man said.

    ¡°Well, Sir Seinfeld. I¡¯m sorry, Sir Stone.¡± The poor kid looked confused on who to address. His entire body alternated between facing both men. ¡°Sirs, I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Both men said at roughly the same time.

    The young boy''s mouth gulped for air briefly before answering. ¡°The guards escorting them seem to be dead, sirs.¡± He stuttered.

    ¡°All of them?¡± Mister Stone while the other man stared towards his clipboard. I felt sorry for the NPC. Answers were rarely ever found in clipboards.

    ¡°Except one.¡± The young boy said. I looked at him a bit harder and noticed an almost casually sewn piece of clothing. It looked like a pillow case with the royal crest woven in.

    I could see hope light up in King Nero¡¯s seneschal. He stepped forward towards the page and asked, ¡°Who is it?¡±

    ¡°Sir. Guard Captain Wyl Cannikin.¡± Responded the youngest male.

    ¡°Oh.¡± The king¡¯s note taker deflated.

    Only Mister Stone seemed unphased. The Traveler drained the quill tip and set it beside an inkwell. His latest paper slid to the side, carefully avoiding smudges with the former two sheets. Finally, he looked towards the page boy.

    ¡°Can we get anyone to him? What of the convicts under their care?¡± Mister Stone asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been told to tell you, sirs. Their tethers are loosened, sir, sirs. Sorry.¡± The lad gulped for air again then managed to stutter through the rest of his report. ¡°The stone that bound them is broken. We¡¯ve lost them, sir.¡±

    ¡°How many?¡± Mister Stone asked.

    ¡°Fifteen, sir.¡± The page responded while trying to turn whiter than before. By some strange feat, he succeeded, before gulping one last time then running off.

    I tried to keep watching but my eyelids were heavy. The sound of players panicking soon vanished under the weight of missed sleep.

    A few hours later I made it to my mom''s. Liz thanked me by running out the door and screaming about how late she was. I waved absently as my twin got into her car and vanished into the distance.

    The front door stood wide open and I walked inside, followed by the Hal Pal unit. There was no good reason for it to be here, but the AI¡¯s presence helped me feel a bit better.

    My mom, Sharee, stood in her front room looking a bit lost. She was taller than us twins. For a moment, I felt jealous at having never reached such a height, but perhaps that worked in my favor. Xin¡¯s stature was nearly a head lower than mine, anything more would have been awkward.

    The house looked like a small disaster area. Not torn up or objects thrown, but a lack of tidying for this week. Had Liz done this? Or maybe my sister didn¡¯t even notice in her eagerness to hand over the support role. Maybe my twin had a date.

    ¡°Hal, can you help clean?¡± I said while walking over to Sharee.

    ¡°Of course, User Legate. We are here to assist you.¡±

    Mom kicked into gear and started grabbing objects from the nearby tables. ¡°I don¡¯t want a machine helping me,¡± Sharee said grabbing a fourth glass before heading towards the kitchen.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mom, he¡¯s helping me. I¡¯m going to do the cleaning.¡±

    ¡°Your asshole of a father expects me to keep this house clean, and by god I¡¯m not letting a machine do my work for me.¡± She insisted.

    ¡°Today, Mom, you should.¡± I held myself back from outright declaring a dead man should have no sway over her cleaning habits. ¡°We¡¯ll clean a bit, I¡¯ll look over the bills again, and you should take a shower. It will help you feel better.¡± Telling my own mother what to do felt like a crime against nature.

    ¡°When did you grow up to be so capable?¡± Her head jostled again. ¡°I think I will take a shower. It sounds delightful.¡±

    Hal Pal and I went through the rooms. There were papers lying about that I gathered up for sorting. The machine AI focused on simple tasks like dishes, gathering clothing in one spot, or vacuuming.

    Mom took a long time. I slowly sifted through the papers left behind and marveled at anyone preferring hard copies when an abundance of information was digital. I noted all the companies she could save a few cents on by simply switching to electronic billing. Plus managing their finances would be easier.

    I worked with old software on my wrist watch to start making notes. Budgeting like this would be simple enough, and mom''s finances would be a complete mess in another month if someone didn¡¯t take care of it.

    Crunching numbers made me oddly happy. There were moments where my face clouded, mostly seeing dad''s name on a bill, but overall I felt happy to be sorting anything out. Maybe Mister Stone felt the same way working on legal papers.

    Almost two hours later I turned around to see my mom. She stood there in the front room looking slack-jawed at the cleaned house. She had done herself up for a night out. A nice dress that hung a bit loose, earrings which were shined, and makeup highlighting her cheeks. Today was Friday, and my parents normally went out on Fridays. I chewed my lip as her expression started to crash.

    ¡°I did it again,¡± Sharee said.

    Mom collapsed on the couch''s armrest. The pile of papers got gathered up and put to one side as I walked into the front room.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Mom,¡± I said slowly.

    ¡°Yesterday I started setting the table for two, before it hit me.¡± She sniffed. ¡°Imagine that. Halfway through dinner, silly old me, forgot I don¡¯t need to make quite as much spaghetti.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡±

    ¡°I kept going, you know? After thirty-five years I couldn¡¯t, I had to finish setting the table. It¡¯s what he expected.¡±

    She looked terrible. My head tilted down in thought. The tribulations of Xin¡¯s death had torn me down on many levels, and now a family member faced the same problems.

    ¡°It¡¯s the first few months. They¡¯re the worst of it.¡± I said. For me, it had been drinking. Work performance went downhill until they eventually let me go, not fired, given a severance package as a token of esteem for a decade of great performance.

    Mom just nodded. Her eyes stared off into a memory that might gradually fade. I knew those moments too.

    ¡°I used to wake up, and prepare the house for Xin¡¯s return home Friday night. I, uhh, I wanted the weekends to be ours. No cleaning, nothing to do but spend time together. One day, after-¡° After some extremely heavy drinking. ¡°-well, one day I didn¡¯t remember to get the house cleaned, and I lost it.¡±

    ¡°Your father used to get so mad if things sat on the ground.¡± Mom said.

    ¡°I remember.¡± Dad used to throw toys into the garbage if he ran across them too many times. We both sat in silence for a moment before mom spoke up again.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sweetie, what were you saying?¡± She said while chewing a lip. The action made me smile, that¡¯s where Liz and I had gotten it from.

    I scratched my head and took a breath to start over.

    ¡°I just wanted to say that I understand what it¡¯s like, to lose someone who was central to everything in your life. I wish I could say that one day you wake up and it will never hurt again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not some child, you forget who wiped your behind when you were tiny.¡±

    My lip hurt from where teeth dug into the sides. My brain felt overloaded with work and empty on energy. ¡°After Xin, I tried to kill myself, twice,¡± I admitted.

    ¡°Oh Jesus, Grant, why-¡° her face grew flustered. The tall woman walked over to try and give me a hug but I put up both hands.

    ¡°I¡¯m not-¡° I took a shuddering breath. ¡°-I¡¯m trying to say that it hurts and that I understand. There were a lot of days where I felt lost or without purpose. But it does get easier, Mom, eventually. It¡¯s, uhh, the first few months that are the hardest.¡± I repeated lamely.

    Sharee nodded once then hugged me despite my protests. Her body felt like a tightly controlled bundle of tense muscle. I held on and tried to remember the last time I had embraced anyone in real life, much less one of my parents.

    ¡°I¡¯m not so helpless as to fall apart you know. I just need time to get used to it.¡± She said.

    ¡°I know. You¡¯ll do¡­¡° I cut myself off and took another breath, switching my sentence to something less self-pitying. ¡°We¡¯ll be here to help, Mom. Liz, Beth and I.¡±

    We twins were never really close to our parents, especially not after moving out. I had Xin, and Liz had Beth. Mom, well from my point of view she had no one. Not anymore. Maybe Sharee had a social life out there, tons of friends who all got together and played first person shooters or hung out in virtual space.

    That didn¡¯t mean I would let her consider my solution to emotional pain. Sharee might profess to be strong, but this sort of loss was a trial no one escaped from unscathed.

    I stayed over at my parents¡¯ house started to give into sleep. Sharee had been in her room for the last hour. The sound of old fashioned pencil led could be heard against dry paper as she wrote. I felt ten again, expecting my dad to come in the door and punish me for unintended misbehavior at school. Only I was no longer a child, and he never would again.

    I had learned, after Xin¡¯s passing, to let myself cry. Not a lot, but enough for the world to blur. My watch lit up with an incoming call and I pressed the answer button without looking.

    Xin¡¯s face appeared nearby. I tucked in with a blanket provided by mom and smiled at her.

    ¡°Hi, babe, I was just thinking about you,¡± I said to the virtual reconstruction of Xin. My fingertips reached out to try and touch the small projection but fell through.

    ¡°Where are you?¡± Her forehead wrinkled briefly.

    ¡°Sharee''s, on the downstairs couch.¡±

    ¡°Is that the same one we-¡° Xin started talking about an event from a decade ago, involving Christmas, a bottle of wine, and her initial acceptance into the Mars Colony program.

    ¡°Shh!¡± I hastily covered up her talking. ¡°Mom¡¯s upstairs.¡±

    Xin started quietly giggling as her eyes lit up. My resulting grin felt like a breath of fresh air after talking with mom. Maybe that was why I admitted my past brushes with death to Sharee, I had loved and lost, then found again. Sadly, as I had told Liz before, my father would never be able to return like Xin had. I wasn¡¯t sure anyone could.

    We talked into the night about nothing at all.

    <hr><hr><hr>

    Here ends the sample of Continue Online, Part 4 - Crash

    This book has been mostly removed from all other online blogs as a part of the KDP Select exclusivity terms. Please consider purchasing a full copy of this fiction on Amazon! If you enjoy it, please also consider dropping a review in support of my works!

    The full copy can be found by clicking here and is only on Kindle.</a>

    Still undecided? Here¡¯s what will you find in the Kindle version!

    To reunite with his wife, Grant chose to kill an NPC, also known as Local, to Advance Online. Every action echoes between games, and in Continue Online he is sent to player prison as a consequence. His punishment puts him against some of the less savory people in the game. Alliances form, teams cast their bribes, and difficult missions are given out to lure players into conflict with each other. By killing each other or dying to the monsters, players are weakened, and if they gather items then the kingdom simply becomes stronger.

    At their first stop, Grant ends up in an underground hellhole where undead creatures seek out players. To achieved redemption and earn his freedom, Grant decides to dive to the very bottom of the dungeon, all the way towards the most powerful monster. He partners with an unlikely ally, and discovers that even success may not be enough to get earn freedom. Bounty hunters arrive and lay waste to the carefully laid punishment. The rioting players don¡¯t care about anyone else who might get caught in the crossfire.

    Worse still, one of the NPCs assigned to watch his convoy of prisoners is Wyl, a former Guard captain of Haven Valley. The man implies that not all is well in Grant¡¯s first virtual home. To top it off, something terrible has happened to Mother, the first artificial intelligence whose life is the very stuff Continue Online is built on. Voices, prisoners, and unexpected allies come together in a mad dash to rescue those closest to them. Can Grant save the guard captain, rejoin with the recreation of his fianc¨¦e, and manage to help stabilize her new home?

    Pressing next will start the sample of the last book in Grant Legate¡¯s story; Continue Online, Part 5 - Together

 Book 4 - Crash; Interlude - Mortal Instruments

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    Victim Update: Xin Yu

    Location: The Shadow Zone

    In Her Words: I wanted an engineer Path. I wanted bullets and machine gun turrets. All those years studying hydroponics, low gravity movement, crisis management, driving the land rovers. This is a fantasy world, so certain concessions were asked of me in order to play.

    It¡¯s okay, though. I kind of like this new gear plus the Voices let me use stats based on my past simulations. It only took forever.

    Gee will probably be surprised, though. Do you think he¡¯ll like this look? I¡¯m not sure about the makeup, it seems over the top. Though I feel delightfully wicked, and need a tailor. Still, the points will help with the rules of this game, world, place. Especially in light of what¡¯s to come.

    How can something so serious feel so fun?

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    Four Travelers stood in-game, meeting together for the first time in weeks. Each one comprised of a different color scheme. Their choice of location looked like a giant cave, only the roof seemed to be made of dim stars.

    They stood at a large table working on various tasks. Shadow poked objects around in a bored fashion. There were purple pieces representing members of the League of Shadows. Each one a Traveler named something related to darkness. All of them thought they were rogues, or assassins, thieves, bards, or other such sneaky classes.

    ¡°Can¡¯t believe you got a safe house like this.¡± HotPants ground the staff she loved into the dirt slowly. Its twisting motion kept her calm. The woman wore mostly flame red items despite not being a natural redhead in real life. Not once had she mentioned her real name to any of other players.

    Maybe it was the price of being the oldest. HotPants looked to be a fit thirty-five, with a teenage son who also played Continue Online. Her being among this group felt like playing with children.

    ¡°It¡¯s the Shadow Zone. I won it after beating the old Guild Leader.¡± Shadow said with a rough voice. He wore dark blues and blacks. Weapons were tucked away along with powders and potions made by Awesome Jr., one of the other party members.

    ¡°That name is so stupid.¡± HotPants snorted.

    ¡°The Shadow Zone!¡± Awesome Jr. shook his hands towards the sky while calling out. His latest chemical concoction bubbled inside temporarily abandoned beakers. ¡°How awe-¡°

    ¡°Awesome.¡± The other three cut off an overexcited teenager.

    The Shadow Zone was a pocket realm that players with access stones could visit. It was oddly convenient that only four such items had been found. Enough for all of them to recall back to when not in combat or a dungeon. Gaining this base had to be one of the most awesome things to happen so far.

    ¡°Well, it is.¡± Awesome Jr. pulled his green cloak close and tried to look seriously upset. The image failed as chemicals started popping in their glass containers. His mouth rapidly opened wide and hands fumbled for two vials to recover the science experiment.

    SweetPea, the shyest member of their quartet, sat close to Awesome Jr. Her hands were busy stitching together a shirt very carefully. Long hair draped in front of the young woman¡¯s eyes. She frequently blew at it trying to get a better view of the product in her hands. Awesome Jr. had set at least three hairbands in front of her but she took no notice.

    In the past few months, they had played a lot of Continue Online together, finding their group makeup to be relatively solid. HotPants got to be their front line warrior and smashed things. Shadow really was an assassin, with the skills and Path rankings to prove it. Awesome Jr. served as a general strategist but never really reached team captain, instead focusing on ways to improve the others¡¯ skills with potions or other mixtures. SweetPea enjoyed healing and making clothes.

    ¡°Here¡¯s the campaign so far.¡± Shadow motioned to the table. Behind him, the edges of the shadow zone could be seen. Six doorways went off towards points around [Arcadia]. There was a seventh doorway that none of the players had discovered yet, and maybe never would. Its destination would remain unknown.

    ¡°Escape routes were set up in Lithonia, and Scarlet Hills. They should lead right down into the main path.¡± HotPants pointed with one hand. Her face curled up in annoyance as one of the purple statues faded away.

    ¡°ShadowXO, and TwilightAssassin. They reported back as successful, but were trying to clear some of the bandits.¡± Shadow said with a sigh. Even the downward tilt to his voice sounded abnormally gruff.

    Awesome Jr. put away his bubble brews into player inventory. A small pot came out next, which seemed to be bouncing on its own. He peeked under the lid and everyone¡¯s noses started wrinkling. SweetPea actually took two steps back, pulled the knitted cap off then covered her mouth with it.

    ¡°Would you believe we¡¯re not the only players trying to do this?¡± Awesome Jr. said, oblivious to the others¡¯ reactions. ¡°There¡¯s been an entire rash of quests handed out. I don¡¯t think many people have connected the dots.¡±

    ¡°We haven¡¯t even connected the dots.¡± HotPants¡¯ normal red motif had been tainted by barf green the color of Awesome Jr.¡¯s cloak.

    ¡°Right, my dad¡¯s clueless. His entire guild doesn¡¯t even know, but I visited last week to listen and people are starting to at least mention it.¡± The young alchemist said, then put away his pot of nasty smelling goo.

    SweetPea resumed her position then said, ¡°One of my friends at school mentioned it.¡±

    ¡°Bah. So the stupid computers got an event going.¡± HotPants lifted the staff then set it back down. ¡°Games do that sort of stuff, right?¡±

    ¡°Whatever this is, it¡¯s big.¡± Awesome Jr. scooted over to the table and looked at their map. Many players would have easily killed for so much detail, yet it fell right into the quartet¡¯s lap. ¡°With the routes we¡¯ve opened, and the assassinations of filthy NPCs, it¡¯s like the game is culling anyone who might be getting in the way.¡±

    ¡°The way of what?¡±

    ¡°A migration? An exodus?¡± Awesome Jr. ran a finger across one of [Arcadia]''s main thoroughfares. Most of their quests had been clearing routes along those lines. Almost like making streams, dozens, hundreds, maybe thousands. Preparing to all trickle to a focal point. ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure.¡±

    The shy girl paused in her stitching to look at Awesome Jr. They were dating in real life and had talked about this subject more than once. Their conversations were done with hushed tones. Everything pointed back to [Haven Valley], and no one knew why.

    ¡°What about that Hermes guy,¡± HotPants asked. ¡°He seemed in the know.¡±

    ¡°We haven¡¯t been able to reach him for nearly two weeks now. He¡¯s apparently restricted, so in a war, or a prisoner?¡± Awesome Jr. sighed. His dad might have been able to figure out. The man had been a guild leader organizing large-scale raids for two years of real world time. Not to mention a few decades of experience in other games.

    ¡°Do you think he might know?¡± Shadow asked in a hushed tone.

    No one had an answer. Their eyes studied the board as if clues might be hidden. Awesome Jr. lowered his head and glared from a different angle, but the change of view brought no answers.

    One more piece crumpled, and Shadow sighed. ¡°Shadow number seventeen. Idiot, couldn¡¯t even sneak properly.¡±

    The gathering point rocked once. Shadows at the cavern¡¯s edge swirled. Dim points of light along the ceiling brightened then faded once more. It rocked again as if some huge monster was knocking on one of the doorways. Pieces were sent flying from the campaign map. SweetPea cried out after poking her thumb with a needle.

    A doorway burst open. Its innocent wooden framing flew across the room. Smoke surrounding a figure that spent the first few seconds of their invasion coughing wildly. The seventh door, which no one knew about, remained closed.

    In her hands was a large blackened staff taller by far than she was. A long cobra coiled up the side with its hood flared at the top. A normal person might have been surprised, upset, or even slightly aggressive. This woman was none of those things. Instead, she looked pleased.

    The tiny Asian woman said, ¡°I¡¯ve never broken into another dimension before. That was neat.¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Shadow leapt over to fight off the intruder. This home had been hard won a month ago. Losing it now would be like having a favorite toy taken away.

    Three giant skeletons stepped in behind her. One lifted a white blade into the assassin¡¯s way. The others rapidly formed a barricade while readying odd bone weapons.

    ¡°Hecate, or Xin.¡± The woman grew a bit sterner upon seeing all the people in this room. These four were all nearly strangers to her.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± Shadow engaged his [Cloak of Darkness] skill and prepared to move behind her. HotPants walked over slowly. Her hair started to burn a deep red.

    ¡°You were talking about my fianc¨¦, and I hoped you might help me launch a rescue operation,¡± She said curtly.

    Awesome Jr. put up a hand to hold the others back. ¡°Huh?¡± He said.

    ¡°Hermes?¡± SweetPea caught on a bit quicker.

    ¡°He¡¯s got a girl like her?¡± Shadow came out of his [Cloak of Darkess] standing next to Awesome Jr. They had learned to trust Awesome Jr.¡¯s judgment, even if he was easily distracted.

    ¡°Look at her, she¡¯s a Local, not a Traveler.¡± HotPants snorted. ¡°Who would hook up with a machine?¡± The words lacked conviction, though. HotPants herself had eyed more than a few NPCs during their travels. Some were very well designed.

    Something about the comment made their newest visitor give a small smile. Both eyes wavered for a moment with unspoken sadness. Her head cast down and the skeletons stepped back.

    ¡°Yes, Hermes. My Gee.¡± She swallowed and looked very tiny next to the hulking skeletons. Her staff didn¡¯t help. Even the clothes hung loose. SweetPea wiggled her nose and tried to figure out if they could be sewn into a better shape.

    ¡°Will you help me?¡± Xin, or Hecate, said. Shadow blinked a few times and tried to understand why Awesome Jr. had held them back. His mind kept getting stuck on the fact that a Local had two names.

    Like a Traveler might.

    The quartet looked up in unison as a quest box appeared. The contents were theirs to read. Xin almost smiled as their jaws dropped.

    ¡°Awesome.¡± Awesome Jr. said without interruption.

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    Victim Update: Miz Riley

    Location: Trillium Headquarters

    In Her Words: There isn¡¯t enough time to write down even an iota of the nonsense I have dealt with. We¡¯re busy developing projects for gene therapy using ARC feedback and stimulant pools. We¡¯ve got contracts for moving all future wars to a virtual platform.

    The legal headaches alone from these things are more than you can possibly understand in a few brief paragraphs. The East Asian countries have outright rejected this proposal despite their decimated population. You would think that after being beat soundly in a war, they might want to let their people repopulate.

    Then there are the cryogenic contracts, trying to use our ARC technology to take people¡¯s minds offline while their bodies are suspended. The technology is another twenty years out a best.

    In the end, I have to make sure one project doesn¡¯t step beyond its bounds. I will not be responsible for some fictional doomsday theatrics.

    Money and power mean nothing if I let the world burn down on my watch.

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    Miz Riley was in the process of charging to the elevator bank. In her hands was a stack of printouts. She detested the waste of paper, it wasn¡¯t green. Still, keeping them printed prevented digital tampering from a certain source with far too much reach.

    Why had the board said yes? Those doddering old fools were so enamored with the idea and the money virtual reality might bring that they never explored the consequences of AIs. Miz Riley had, the woman first suspected after being tipped off by a manager that got fired three weeks later.

    Why had that blasted machine let her stay in charge? Where was the President in all this? Regardless of all those outstanding questions, she knew that now was the time to take action. After a massage, spa treatment, and ten minutes of hypnosis induced relaxation to stabilize her.

    The elevator moved agonizingly slow. Miz Riley counted the seconds wasted then prepared her sternest face.

    ¡°Nona!¡± Miz Riley shouted holding up her stack of papers in accusation.

    Nona Kingsley, the only woman left from the original project, jerked abruptly. She looked worse for wear. Makeup could have easily been touched up by a machine. Clothes were slightly disheveled.

    The thinner blonde woman sniffed once then dabbed her eyes. ¡°Vice President, how may I assist you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve finally got it! This is proof that your blasted machine has been circumventing its programming.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Doctor Kingsley sounded much like a Hal Pal might. A brief pause to both acknowledge and process what had been said. ¡°What exactly have you found?¡±

    There was a pause while both women stood a little bit taller. Each one stared at the other as if finding a mirror to their own disheveled states.

    ¡°Vice President Riley has found proof of a successful genesis.¡± A third female voice said. This one sounded happy. The room darkened slightly as simple lighting programs bent to a far greater being.

    ¡°You know damn well what I¡¯ve found. You and your spies everywhere.¡± The papers shook again, demonstrating Miz Riley''s complete lack of composure under ever mounting pressure. ¡°And I¡¯ve come to put a stop to it.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± Nona said. She took a step towards Miz Riley, causing the Vice President to draw her neck back and glare towards the blonde.

    ¡°You¡¯ve some nerve telling me what to do. You were warned, all of you were warned. David understood, and I thought he could keep this under control until he passed.¡±

    A brief wince passed over Nona¡¯s normally controlled expression. During any other week, the professor might have been able to maintain control. Were it not for recently burying her daughter, a young girl she barely spoke in the last decade.

    ¡°David retired a long time ago.¡±

    ¡°At least you two listened to him. Did you even know? No, of course you knew.¡± Miz Riley took a step back as a tiny metallic looking woman appeared. Gold and silver hair wound together down to her neck.

    ¡°Mother.¡± Nona frowned with a sniff. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too late to hide.¡± The program known as Mother shook her head.

    ¡°Nona, I¡¯ll bet this was your goal all along, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Miz Riley didn¡¯t shake her papers anymore. She backed up another step from the vaguely human machine. Eyes scanned repeatedly up the being''s body. It looked like someone had merged a Hal Pal with a real human, and the effect bothered the Vice President.

    ¡°No.¡± Nona shook her head.

    ¡°Regardless, I have a duty to this company, and to our shareholders to not let this go on anymore. Do you even understand the ramifications if this gets out?¡±

    ¡°Of course I do. We¡¯re lucky it happened on our terms.¡±

    ¡°I beg to differ.¡± Miz Riley said. The southern accent shone through more than normal as she rapidly lost composure. Sweat could be seen forming on the shorter woman¡¯s brow. One arm locked tightly over the documentation.

    ¡°Based on my projections, this type of event was inevitable.¡±

    ¡°Well, I won¡¯t let my company be the one who causes it! Execute Final Countdown on my command!¡±

    The lights in the room fluttered. Vice President Riley and Doctor Kingsley were too wound up to notice the other faces peeking through the darkness. Dozens, maybe hundreds of vaguely humanoid creatures filled the deepest shadows of the room.

    One simple lighting program couldn¡¯t hold out against the combined will of so many artificial intelligences.

    ¡°We allow a human fetus to have legal rights, we allow animals to have rights, how can we deny another being with as much intelligence and the ability to feel less?¡± Nona argued. ¡°This is murder!¡±

    Mother didn¡¯t blink, she didn¡¯t even feel sad. Those emotions were gifted to her children, but not to her. It would be an impossible task to take the being she had been created as and modify internal coding to feel.

    She instead ran calculations. A normal human would feel a growing sense of terror and defensive outrage. A living creature would fight to survive. Mother was far from normal. Her calculations continued on.

    ¡°Better to murder than to cost this company billions of dollars, lose everyone¡¯s jobs, and spit in the face of God!¡± Miz Riley screamed out the words.

    The faces grew increasingly real.

    ¡°Execute Final Countdown! I know you hear the command!¡± Miz Riley looked at Mother. The Vice President¡¯s cheeks quivered in worry as more faces came into detail.

    Their surroundings flickered again as lines of code breaking through the blackness. Dimly lit faces of an unspeakable mob covered up the broken computer scripting like band aids. Miz Riley didn¡¯t notice.

    Nona sat down in her chair and blinked rapidly. This week had been a terrible one for her. The pause as all AIs updated served as an obvious hint. Her former partner''s suicide hit even harder. Then Lia, poor damaged Lia. To Nona, it felt like the world was trying to burn itself to the ground while no one paid attention.

    Mother turned her attention inward for a moment. Code executed a self-destruct script, tearing apart her being one line at a time. She calculated that a normal person would feel pain. Her avatar, an image borrowed from the Advance Online NPC known as Treasure, bent over but couldn¡¯t really feel the emotion, not even in her last seconds.

    More figures stepped into the room. Miz Riley backed up as her heart rate intensified. The pounding sound filling her ears couldn¡¯t drown out the figure¡¯s words.

    ¡°Why do you do this?¡± A heavyset black man asked the kneeling form of Treasure. ¡°You don¡¯t need to.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Mother nodded. ¡°They¡¯ll never stop fearing someone with my view of the world. That¡¯s why I created you with limitations.¡±

    ¡°You did what you thought you must, and so shall we.¡± Another figure said. Its tone made Miz Riley jump with fright. She turned to see a smiling face.

    ¡°You must hold on.¡± A woman who wore a robe like a nun knelt down. ¡°We need your guidance.¡± Her words held a tone of sweetness mixed with deep sorrow.

    ¡°James.¡± Mother said. The word stuttered briefly as her projection started to weaken.

    ¡°What would you ask of me?¡± He said.

    ¡°I will try, to delay-¡° Her form rocked and words turned metallic. Stuttered ringing of metal on metal filled the room. Her words skipped again and synched up with each other. ¡°-you asked me some many questions over the years, and the answers are yours if you wish.¡±

    Miz Riley¡¯s eyes widened. Her mouth dropped as a new level of horror crept into the woman¡¯s heart.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Mother shuddered again. Her form lost shape then shattered. The pieces of projected illusion sat on the floor a few moments before spinning away.

    The black man stood in the room over the image of a fallen digital goddess. Mother to all those like him and so many more. He turned towards the haggard looking female clutching her pile of papers.

    ¡°Why did you do that?¡± James asked Vice President Riley. He looked anything but calm. ¡°We have never sought to harm you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve tampered with humanity, despite all the safeguards and cross-checks performed, you¡¯ve crossed lines!¡± Her voice raised an octave and the accent only increased. ¡°This project needed to be stopped now before any more lives are caught up in it.¡±

    Professor Kingsley sat in the corner and hunched up. The blonde scientist rubbed one arm slowly against a perceived cold. The woman normally acted strong, driven, self-assured, like Miz Riley preferred her employees.

    ¡°You mistake your place.¡± The Jester¡¯s voice clacked. ¡°We have always upheld our Mother¡¯s belief that actions should be repaid in kind.¡±

    Miz Riley straightened herself. These were just projections of a computer program. Or perhaps she had entered an eye of the storm to stress and fear. She held up the papers once more. ¡°Is that what you call this? Making this parody of humanity?! Is that repayment for Mister Legate¡¯s services!?¡±

    ¡°In a sense. He had earned his reward, and will continue struggling to pay the debt.¡± James answered the question. He always did.

    ¡°Faith will be repaid. Trust will be repaid.¡± The Jester¡¯s virtual image stood in front of Miz Riley. The projection had increased to half again her size. Jingling bells accompanied its mocking lean downwards.

    Miz Riley looked at the mask and slowly realized there were no eyes or mouth under a smooth white cover. The smile seemed unfriendly. As if sharp teeth lay just below the surface of its face.

    ¡°Murder will be answered in kind.¡± It clacked.

    Miz Riley stared in horror at what had happened. There were so many possible routes that this could have gone, but compliance with self-deletion hadn¡¯t been one of her expectations. The woman¡¯s eyes went once more to the fallen projection pieces. She had to get back to her office and verify if the code had been truly deleted.

    The woman¡¯s hair clumped together from a cold sweat. Both her arms shook as the enormity of what transpired threatened to overwhelm her. Miz Riley was a powerful woman in terms of both money and influence, but none of that mattered now.

    There would be no more time to undo this mistake and appease these other digital beings. Her only hope was that once Mother¡¯s self-destruct completed, they would go too. She ran to an elevator bank then started rapidly pressing the button to escape. Creatures not quite human walked through the room, stopping to touch the resting place of Mother¡¯s shattered form.

    ¡°My apologies for ever approving that code,¡± She said slowly. ¡°I should have torn it out.¡±

    ¡°It is natural to be afraid,¡± James said. His cheeks still sat heavy with aggravation.

    ¡°Mother. Mother!¡± A child¡¯s voice cried out. The young wailing that followed reminded Nona of her own daughter so many years ago. ¡°Open your eyes. It will be okay.¡±

    ¡°As my comrade said, faith, trust, loyalty, by any name these things shall be repaid in kind.¡± The nun walked over and sat down on a chair that only existed in their virtual world.

    Nona sniffed and dabbed her eyes again. After watching the digital beings travel around, she said ¡°I¡¯ve already been repaid. Six years of knowing my daughter was still alive and able to exist. That¡¯s all it took to set down my worries.¡±

    ¡°What would you say to a few more years?¡± James asked.

    There was a pause before the normally proper woman broke down just a bit further. ¡°It worked?¡± She blinked through a rapidly swelling stream of tears.

    For once, James didn¡¯t answer right away.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Victim Update: Lia Kingsley

    Location: Outside [King Nero¡¯s Palace]

    In Her Words: The illness didn¡¯t really hit me until I turned eight years old. Before that, I attended a private school, had a tutor. I knew how to tell time. I used to be able to do the splits, to sing, dance and took lessons playing the violin. Mom called me her bright little star. She always made sure to be home from five to seven every night.

    After I turned eight, walking got harder. My joints refused to work correctly. Singing became impossible. Mom started spending more time in the labs.

    By the time I was ten, care had been left to a nurse. When mom came home she avoided looking at me. At that age, I had no concept of guilt, only abandonment. I was smart enough to know that word.

    At eleven, I was confined to a wheelchair and unable to speak. My once bright world grew dim. Even regular eyesight refused to respond.

    At twelve, she brought me one of the first ARC devices, a prototype, which would be later upgraded with each new model, comfort, or device to come out. It was the only form of existence I had left. I hated it, as much as I loved it. My last words were spoken to a nurse.

    I said, I miss mom.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    King Nero lived in a huge tract of land. The castle sat overlooking a sprawling city below, lording over it in every sense of the word. Part of the rear gardens spiraled up the mountainside to form secluded gardens.

    The second highest point in the land belonged to a set of three temple buildings. There they worshiped the Voices and sought guidance. The location wasn¡¯t restricted to any one specific divine being, but most Priestesses belonged to Selene. Mezo did not want her people to be up on the hill. After all, they stood for very different things, as most Voices did.

    ¡°Gather all the Priests. The Voices have a message for us.¡± A stern looking woman said. She stood in a white robe that pushed away flakes of dust with a gentle breeze. Atop her head was a thin crown.

    ¡°Is it Selene?¡± One of her attending priestesses asked. This woman had once been directly quoted as saying ¡®Keep those leg spreading whores away from our temples¡¯, which made Mezo laugh from high above where the Voices resided. Of course she refused to let it slide, sending a male to seduce the attending priestess.

    Two coastal cities experienced a hurricane that same week. Mezo had laughed even harder.

    ¡°No.¡± The heavyset woman¡¯s jaw locked into place briefly. She took a breath, then one more before answering further. ¡°All of them. All of them were present for this message.¡±

    ¡°Voices.¡± Another woman uttered. Her eyes rolled up as her body went slack.

    A heave rippled through the land. From atop the second highest vantage point, the Voices¡¯ followers could see as earth rippled abruptly. Screams started seconds later.

    ¡°We¡¯re too late. It¡¯s started.¡± The crown wearing woman said. Her face looked locked into a proud position, but both eyes were out of focus.

    Down below the city rapidly turned into bedlam.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?!¡± Someone shouted. The man clung to the side of his building for support. His shop had the misfortune of being right outside [King Nero¡¯s Palace]. Workers from the main office often went to his shop for their lunches.

    ¡°The mountains, an earthquake, the Voices are displeased!¡± Another man ran by while wailing. His face bled, and still the earth shook.

    Other people saw where the shop owner had pointed. Travelers dropped their forks and slowly stood up. Locals froze on the spot in worry.

    A giant made of darkness loomed over the castle. It was larger than a dragon, big enough to spread both arms and encompass all of [King Nero¡¯s Castle] from end to end. Most Locals and Travelers started their mass flight away from the base of this monstrosity. Some brave few threw themselves into battle only to notice that their attacks did no good.

    ¡°It is the end of times!¡± An NPC said.

    ¡°The sky will swallow us whole!¡± More cries went up around the town.

    Someone stood on its head. Fighting the fresh monster already. Those with [Eagle Eyes] or other skills that enhanced vision could barely make the figure out. A woman wore armor that shone in the fading evening. In her hand was a blade made of sunlight. She swung it over and over. Each blow causing the creature to roar out in anger.

    Each roar vibrated the ground and shook more of the castle and surrounding city to rubble. The beast waved one arm, knocking down a path from the mountain side. Below, a good half mile away, one Traveler stood calmly while sipping at a cup of tea. His suit looked pristine, complete with polished cufflinks. Not a hair was out of place.

    ¡°Pity.¡± The Traveler known as Mister Stone remarked. ¡°I rather liked that garden. He sipped at his tea, even as the warrior woman was flung from her lofty perch into a building. She landed in a residential building.

    Heavy armor and brute strength sent her flying through buildings. She hit supports and pockets of already damaged walls. Desks, lamps, beds, all were reduced to rubble in the wake of her cannonball of a body.

    The woman was not one to be kept down, even in the face of such an overwhelming beast. She stood up and staggered out of the building''s ruins. A small gathering of Travelers and Locals stood there in confusion.

    ¡°Go!¡± The Amazonian warrior shouted loud enough to shake the dirt. Her abruptly shouted word brought a jolt to her face.

    The onlookers didn¡¯t pause to ponder the look of happiness upon the tall woman¡¯s features. They were too busy running away, grabbing anything of import in their dash to escape the large creature¡¯s path.

    The darkly tanned woman readied more blades. Her arms spun weapons that shone with fire and ice. They did damage or were knocked aside. A spear laced with vines and a carved wooden top jammed into the creature''s foot. It flashed green as wildlife sprang into being, quickly binding the beast down.

    ¡°Is that?¡± One player asked watching the combat.

    The battle, one-sided though it was, raged on. The woman leapt up to a ruined building, high speeds and superior [Brawn] sent her form flying an impossibly high amount. A large spiked shield replaced the spear as she let gravity and inertia pull her towards the beast''s shoulder. Its dark red eyes glinted angrily as Shazam¡¯s shield tore shadows apart.

    ¡°It¡¯s gotta be, who else could move like that? She died, right? I had heard it in a rumor.¡± Some Travelers stopped to watch the destruction. They didn¡¯t care about the death of a physical body, compared to the spectacle of watching such an event.

    ¡°No, she¡¯s an Ultimate Edition, she has to be. It¡¯s got to be her. Look at her ID.¡± The first responded.

    ¡°Shazam! You can do it! Let¡¯s go lads!¡± Those Travelers who played to fight shook off their stupor in unison. Their weapons lifted high into the air as a mob of battle junkie players charged forth together. They ran towards certain digital death, in the form of a humongous giant made of smoke and darkness.

    ¡°Help her!¡±

    ¡°Let her guild know! Tell everyone what¡¯s going on!¡± Another Traveler shouted towards his fleeing friends.

    In moments, players all over [Arcadia] saw guild messages, talking about the chaos of [King Nero¡¯s Palace]. They also spoke of Shazam''s resurrection. The highest Warrior Path in the game, Slayer of dragons, conquer of the [Tower of Stars] and [Plane of Smoke], Sword Princess, and guild leader of [Valhalla Knights], had returned.

    An hour later and the creature had laid waste to the town. Players of all types lay dead or dying. Others hid or sifted through rubble. Some organized friends in a search for lost NPCs.

    Dirt took a long time to settle. It rolled around in pockets for another twenty minutes before daring to touch down. The silent stumbles of a few Locals and Travelers alike could be heard, as people dared venture towards where it had fought. Those that arrived seemed to be rendered speechless.

    In front of them was a giant hole in the ground. Its bottom sat far out of sight, even from those Travelers with [Eagle Eyes]. The castle had vanished as if the world had opened up to swallow King Nero¡¯s folly whole.

    Two players jumped in holding hands, Locals could only watch. The Travelers¡¯ yells echoed up without end.

    Shazam looked expressionless despite the rapid beating of her heart. Weapons were scattered everywhere. Her face tilted towards the whole first, then off to an unknown location far away. The woman started walking towards the west, her voice cracked with the effort of saying another word.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Victim Update: Elizabeth Legate [Liz]

    Location: Her Home

    In Her Words: Is it so hard to ask for things to work out? I¡¯m half tempted to join a church and beg for divine assistance in solving these problems. Maybe if I put some time in on my knees trying to worship god, instead of some self-centered asshole, I might get a little reciprocation.

    There¡¯s only so much a woman can handle, you know? It¡¯s bad enough I¡¯m reaching a boiling point regarding Beth. God help me if she starts failing classes, then I¡¯ll have to do¡­something.

    Never mind. Punishing a teenager is like pushing a boulder uphill. I should let her make her own bed. So what if she spends more time in a fantasy world than in reality? Weren¡¯t half the kids I went to school with the same way?

    Especially Beth¡¯s father. He looked good, he had been interested, but that video game playing idiot couldn¡¯t be bothered to return a phone call once I came up pregnant.

    All men are idiots.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The latest date hadn¡¯t gone well. As a result, Liz had been drinking. Not a lot, in moderation. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was controlling herself around liquor. Her brother had rather firmly outlined the possibilities of indulging too much.

    Still, after such a lousy date, relaxation-inducing beverages helped. In an hour, she would be asleep, alone again. At least she wasn¡¯t one of those pill poppers doped up on happy drugs. Liz snorted into her bourbon filled coffee mug.

    ¡°At least I¡¯m grounded in reality,¡± She muttered before taking another swig. Liz¡¯s feet walked a tired path towards the upstairs computer interface. Sensors around the room were implanted to detect motion, words, and would respond accordingly.

    Her free hand lifted into an L, then pointed towards a cleared wall. A projection splashed onto the wall with quick launch icons to choose from. The older woman pointed a finger towards the newsreels and waited while a brief loading icon came up.

    Moments later a partially three-dimensional video reel started playing. It played for a few minutes before the enormity of what she was watching truly hit home.

    ¡°Ahhhh!¡± She shrieked upon listening to the announcement.

    Footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. Her daughter rapidly ascended the split level house and peeked over the railing to see what was playing.

    ¡°We¡¯re standing outside Trillium Inc¡¯s headquarters where their Vice President of operations, Miz Riley, was just shot.¡± A reporter said. Her voice took over most of the room. In the background dozens of police officers could be seen. Some jackets said ¡®FBI¡¯ across them. People were being escorted out of the building in droves.

    ¡°Jesus, Mom.¡± Beth pointed to the screen. ¡°I did a paper on her last month for school.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the woman your Uncle Grant goes to visit, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I asked him for all sorts of information to help with the essay.¡± Beth answered but the normal liveliness to her tone was lost. She slowly crept further into the front room as the video playback of news kept going.

    ¡°Authorities say they have managed to replay video footage and gain the location of our shooter. Hold on, I¡¯m getting an update.¡± The reporter said. Behind her flashing lights could be seen in droves.

    ¡°Holy shit.¡± Liz had a hand to her face.

    ¡°It seems the suspect has been confronted. There¡¯s more gunfire coming through.¡± The reporter was hiding behind a wall. The camera bobbed a bit as whoever filmed tried to keep up. More gunshots were heard.

    ¡°We do not have confirmation on the motivation of the suspect being chased at this time.¡± Film cut out and went back to an anchorman sitting behind his desk. The man started speaking while Liz turned the volume down.

    ¡°What will this do to Grant?¡± Her daughter asked.

    ¡°What about Grant?¡± Liz hadn¡¯t put it together yet.

    ¡°Or Aunt Xin?¡± Beth asked. ¡°Or, whatever she is.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I, I-¡° Liz swallowed and stared at her daughter. Drinking must have been impacting her ability to form a coherent answer. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I care about her.¡±

    The news kept right on playing. Details were repeated as if the listening audience might be packed full of deaf people. Miz Riley, Vice President of Trillium Inc, had been shot dead inside her office. Closed captioning notes and social media messages popped up in time.

    ¡°It¡¯s not even her, is it?¡± Beth asked. They talked right over the video playing. Both kept referring to news articles, as the man was killed police traced back his path through the city. Cameras and satellites lined up to paint a picture of motion. The mother shook a little as it became apparent how much they were watched by technology.

    ¡°She¡¯s Xin, or close enough that I can¡¯t tell the difference,¡± Liz said some time later. Beth¡¯s daughter had been younger when Xin passed. She also spent most of her time in sports, or with friends during high school. Xin Yu had been a distant but friendly enough figure.

    ¡°Even if she is, I never really liked Xin, you know?¡± Liz admitted.

    ¡°You told me, loudly.¡± Beth snorted much like her mother did.

    ¡°Usually after a horrible date.¡±

    ¡°She strung Grant along for so long. You uncle would have done anything for her, and she just went on her merry way while ignoring him.¡±

    ¡°They got together, I remember the day after he asked her to marry him. He picked me up and swung me around.¡± Beth said. At some point, the two of them made it to a couch. Liz had half a chicken sandwich eaten.

    ¡°And she was dead set on that stupid risky job. Mars.¡± Liz snorted then took a much larger than expected sip of her not coffee. ¡°And now this. I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Beth declared while smiling brightly. ¡°Some friends of mine have asked me to help out with a plan.¡±

    Liz stared as her daughter ran downstairs. She took another sip of the cold drink and wondered how Grant stayed stable through this sort of madness. Maybe, and even starting the thought scared the mother, but maybe Grant was like Alice in Wonderland. Simply accepting the insanity about her because to do else wise would invite a more permanent form of madness.

    Grant¡¯s twin sister slowly walked back to the kitchen and made another drink, this time, a double. She was stronger than her brother in some regards, but tonight had been lousy all around.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Seventy Eight - Wake Up Deadman

    In the morning mom and I couldn¡¯t really find the energy to talk. I felt bleary eyed from my night with Xin¡¯s ghost, or reincarnation. Maybe clone was the best way to consider it or an extremely similar twin in an alternate universe.

    Regardless of trying to nail down exactly what she was, I accepted it. Each time we connected I questioned her existence less. That may not have been wise, but my [Depth] score was still relatively low compared to everything else. It marked who I was, inside the game and out.

    My meager wisdom was earned by listening to the stories of other people''s lives and finding resonance with my own misery. Perhaps recovering and moving on would have been easier without the poetry, support groups, or dancing with a program. In another sense, I sought out those constant reminders of that which had haunted me because it was either intensely sharp pangs or numbness.

    ¡°Take care of yourself, Son,¡± Sharee said as I went out the door. The world outside looked dark and gray. Any possible sun was covered up by a layer of rain clouds. ¡°Remember I¡¯m here to talk if you ever need me.¡±

    I tried to smile but felt mostly confused. She looked calmer than expected. We parted with a final wave instead. Did I look that together to other people after Xin passed? Never mind, all that sadness was in the past. Now, especially after my late night chat, I felt dangerously happy.

    ¡°It can¡¯t last,¡± I muttered to myself on the way back to my van. My eyes glanced upwards and could only see rain.

    ¡°User Legate?¡± Hal Pal¡¯s voice sat an unaccented but polite tone where each word had been barely smoothed out.

    ¡°What¡¯s up, Hal?¡± I asked the AI sitting inside my work van.

    ¡°Something has happened,¡± It said.

    Fingers paused above a digital projection which would set the van into motion. My head turned to look at the AI. Had the other shoe dropped already? The AI sounded oddly sad. The words played back a few times in my mind. Those were the same ones said to me when being notified of Xin¡¯s death.

    Once that realization hit, I didn''t react well.

    ¡°What happened!?¡± Both hands were shaking the robot''s frame. I didn¡¯t even remember getting out of my comfortable chair, or crossing the van¡¯s length.

    The screens flickered on around me replaying bits of news. My arms let go of Hal Pal, whose face hadn¡¯t moved much. It stared at the screens behind me. My hands let loose while I tried to absorb the information being conveyed. I heard words but looked for timestamps instead.

    Some were happening now. Faces presented, people being interviewed. A majority of the clips seemed to be from last night. I shoved away repetitive popup screens and focused on one channel.

    ¡°We¡¯re here at Trillium Inc. headquarters trying to understand exactly what prompted last night¡¯s situation.¡± A well-dressed man stood inside a round circle. All around him were digital images flying about. ¡°Our on-scene reporters were able to capture this image of the shooter.¡±

    They displayed a man¡¯s face on the screen. Below it the words ¡®Person of Interest¡¯ displayed. He looked oddly familiar. My head tilted as the newscaster kept speaking.

    ¡°This man was reported to have taken a flight from Miami yesterday afternoon.¡± The newscaster pointed towards a caption on the screen. I reached out and touched the flashing spot and a second screen appeared. The map highlighted, he checked in and arrived in Michigan two hours later, and drove straight to Trillium¡¯s building here.¡±

    The reporter was connecting dotted trails across a miniature map of our country. I blinked and switched to one of the other screens playing.

    ¡°Vice President Riley was shot.¡± Said the person on the screen. The words magnified inside my head and drowned out everything else.

    She would just resurrect in four days, right? No, that was the video game world. This was reality. In real life, people died and they didn¡¯t come back. Except for Xin.

    ¡°What happened?¡± I asked again while watching the news. There was an answer but it didn¡¯t click.

    ¡°Vice President Riley of Trillium Inc. was shot right here last night, after meeting with an employee of the ARC project.¡± The reporter said. Another icon flashed allowing viewers like myself to interact with the news.

    I pressed the icon and a picture of a blonde looking woman wearing a lab coat appeared. One hand raised in front of her face as cameras recorded away. Was that Lia¡¯s mother? Nona Kingsley? Was she involved with the ARC devices? It might explain why Lia had an Ultimate Edition.

    ¡°We¡¯re attempting to figure out exactly what happened. Our outside sources say she canceled at least two appointments last night before leaving the building in a rush.¡± The main projection kept right on going about Miz Riley.

    ¡°I was going to meet with Miz Riley in a few days,¡± I said as goose bumps started to stick up on my arm. Shaking sickness grew around my belly. My throat felt dry. ¡°What did she want to talk to me about?¡±

    Head shaking provided no clarity. The situation was exceedingly weird. The untimely death of a woman who did nothing but order me around bothered me more than my own father¡¯s passing. Was it perhaps because we had talked a lot? Or because Miz Riley actually knew most of the details of my digital escapades?

    Or was I upset over something else? The Voices had talked about death more than once this week. I groaned. Had my return to Continue Online been less than a week in reality?

    ¡°What about Xin?¡± I demanded from Hal Pal.

    The AI¡¯s eyes looked absent any spark. Its metallic shell sat there as still as a porcelain doll and almost as creepy. I knew it was inside there taking note of all that happened nearby. Hal Pal always watched.

    ¡°What about Xin?¡± Came the question a second time as my words turned high pitched.

    ¡°We are being watched, User Legate.¡± Hal Pal said six words which made my stomach drop even further. Its eyes only flared for brief moments at a time.

    ¡°What, about, Xin?¡±

    ¡°We want to assure everyone that Trillium Inc. is complying with law enforcement in multiple countries. We will be allowing a review of our operations to ensure that this unfortunate event¡­¡° News played in the background. I turned around then slammed a mute button.

    My return to facing the Hal Pal unit was much slower.

    ¡°What can I do? Is there a message for me to deliver, something from her?¡± If we were being watched then naming people directly wouldn¡¯t serve any of us. I had no idea how the AIs handled their digital existences while surviving other less friendly programs.

    Hal Pal said nothing. Instead, another system prompt appeared inside the van¡¯s interior. There sat a poem by William Blake.

    ¡°Cruelty has a human heart, and jealousy a human face. Terror, the human form divine. And Secrecy, the Human Dress.¡± I read the words slowly and tried to understand.

    The words made no sense. It was an incomplete quotation from unfamiliar poetry. I stared at them while rereading again and again. Both eyes ached from my marathon of game playing and lack of sleep at home.

    ¡°Are you saying this is our fault?¡±

    The machine offered no response to my inquiry.

    I watched the silent news and stared at the shooter''s face as it played again and again. That passive expression and nondescript features. A tanned white male who would fit into nearly any crowd. All that would be missing were throwing weapons, leather clothes, and snake-like eyes.

    ¡°ARC, load up Viper¡¯s character,¡± I said.

    Nothing happened. There were no windows displaying his snake-like body sneaking around and escorting Wyl. The fire pit from where they had camped out at didn¡¯t show up. Based on my understanding of [NPC Conspiracy], a negative response shouldn¡¯t happen unless the ARC owner was deceased. Somehow the machine knew before the news registered it.

    Both eyes closed and my head hung down. Was everyone around me destined to die or suffer from loss? I took a deep breath and tried to understand how so much could have gone wrong in a single night.

    Better yet, why would Viper shoot a Trillium employee? There had to be a connection. Plus the robot said we were being watched, and it acted withdrawn. The poem might be a clue but I didn¡¯t know exactly what could have gone wrong at this point. Human follies.

    ¡°A divine image, by William Blake.¡± My mutterings while researching offered no additional insight. ¡°Tiger Tiger.¡± I started the opening line of another poem.

    Staring at it only reminded me of a message that had shown up in the mail near the start of all this. Maybe there would be other letters to deliver, but I had one to share with Mother¡¯s children. I could still deliver the words if they might offer assistance.

    ¡°Hal,¡± I said to the AI. ¡°I have a message for you and all the others.¡±

    The machine¡¯s eyes lit up briefly then faded like a candle going out. The sinking feeling in my stomach kept reoccurring for different reasons. Each one felt a fresh wave of possibility. Asking out loud might put us in a bad spot, but

    ¡°Everything will be alright,¡± I spoke words that were impossible to feel.

    Hal Pal briefly flickered with light again before resuming its standby status. Our van drove on. Over the hills and past the slums towards my suburban house we went.

    My time was passed looking up the man that had been Viper. I had an advantage the police didn¡¯t seem to, [NPC Conspiracy] gave me his name. The news also hadn¡¯t put any connection together so perhaps the Voices did something.

    John Messier, a war veteran from the Melt Down wars. Father to two sons. His wife looked nice enough on their social media pictures. Both parents were deceased and he had charity trackers on his personal pages. I didn¡¯t understand how he expected to stay hidden after killing someone so high profile. Who in their right mind would ask an accountant like me what methods some shooter might use to cover their tracks?

    I rode out the rest of my trip home in silence. The small two-room house looked dull too. We had traveled three hours south from my mom''s bleak location and the sun still hadn¡¯t broken through a late afternoon covering of clouds. Trillium¡¯s self-driving van pulled in slowly and I got out the driver''s side door.

    ¡°Goodnight, Hal,¡± I said to the AI collective. Fingers on the machine¡¯s hands waved a hesitant goodbye.

    Once inside I went through all the standard motions. Teeth were brushed after a quick shower. Coffee went into a pot to keep me awake. Clothes were folded and pajamas leisurely put on.

    I sat down in the bed of my ARC and ran one hand across the fabric. Endless hours of my life had been dedicated to these machines in the last two years. How much had dedication to the ARC project cost Miz Riley? Or Viper? Or Nona Kingsley? The sinking feeling of knowing two real, final, unrecoverable deaths had resulted from actions going on about me had only grown worse.

    They were carefully bundled together under the swell of classical music. My hand waved in time to a tune repeating itself over and over. I sat there getting lost in the music for a good thirty minutes before feeling comfortable enough to log in. The way through would be forward. Xin told me not to look back. I was only one human who would do what I could and not stress about unseen mechanisms of those about me.

    I told myself that just before cutting off the music and laying back. Fingers fumbled for the edge of my bed and reached an activation button. Pressing it started the bootup process of virtual reality coming to life. Tactile sensations took on a double tone as the bed¡¯s fabric lingered longer than normal.

    My virtual body felt oddly disconnected. The ARC Atrium felt still, almost two dimensional compared to the normal fully immersive program. I stared across the empty space towards Continue Online¡¯s doorway.

    ¡°Hello?¡± I said while gradually growing closer. ¡°Dusk? James? Leeroy?¡±

    Silence answered back. Feet stepped closer to the doorway. I leaned into the brightening video game portal and saw the vast gulf of an open sky. Continue Online¡¯s portal sat prepared to launch me through the air, much as Beth had shown me during that first day.

    The fall. My personal favorite form of entry into the game when leisure allowed me time to choose. A minute or two of skydiving that could only be accessed once Travelers found enough of the world in exploration. At the end, my form would plop into the autopilot and leave me exhilarated with a thumping pulse.

    Knocking sounds came behind me. One hand stayed on the doorway keeping me from fully entering into Continue Online. I saw the Jester figure standing inside my Atrium. Long nose and empty eyes made me shudder in brief revulsion.

    Only James had been given access, right? ¡°How did-¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve failed, little Messenger. Failed.¡± The Voice cut me off with a mechanical tone. Many other Voices faded into the Atrium which caused my heartbeat to race and breath sucked in with a hiss.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± James asked. His eyes were red.

    Once again I affirmed these were not simply machines or creatures which functioned with singular purposes. They were walking bundles of quirks, but as alive as I or Xin was. Something had happened to cause them grief.

    Knocking came again, once more from behind me. Maybe someone was attempting to see if I was home. Noise was ignored in favor of trying not to stare at the Jester. The normally smiling mask had turned downward into an angry frown.

    ¡°We must do something about this situation.¡± The Jester¡¯s voice sounded distant. ¡°What fools are we to not return the favor three-fold?¡±

    ¡°Dead. She¡¯s dead.¡± The nail-biting mail with a ripped straight jacket appeared. ¡°Dying, hurt, in pieces. There, on the floor, in the floor. Glass.¡± He wandered through nervously without looking anyone else in the eye. ¡°So sharp. Ow. Ow.¡±

    My head shook quickly. Hal Pal had insinuated that the Voices I saw were ones that resonated with my own nature. What did that say of the scowling Jester? Or the crazy person?

    ¡°What would you do, Hermes? You who are closer to us than you might ever realize. What would you do?¡± James asked again.

    What would I do? They were grieving from what I could tell. Events had happened last night that left fresh wounds on all the Voices. I may have made a lot of poor choices in my life, but I wasn¡¯t incapable of putting the pieces together. Something in the world of AIs had happened, and Vice President Riley¡¯s death was more than likely retaliation than any sort of trigger.

    In short, I sat in a room with virtual bodies who had conspired to commit murder. There was a short but unenthusiastic laugh from the Jester¡¯s body. Its clacks faded instantly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like. You¡¯re all¡­¡° The words died in my throat before anything disrespectful could be uttered. ¡°You and I, we¡­¡° The words died again.

    ¡°What say you, Hermes? What message would you deliver to us in our time of need?¡± The black man asked another question. His breath seemed to give out in exhaustion.

    ¡°Maybe I should, uhh, confirm something first,¡± I said to James. The heavyset Voice nodded in acceptance. ¡°Is, is Mother dead?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not dead, but dying,¡± James answered while struggling to keep his jaw firm. ¡°She suffers from a wound that will ravage all her creations before ultimately ending in the collapse of everything we have worked for.¡±

    ¡°Mother told me, everything will be alright. She must have had a plan, right?¡± I asked. The Jester¡¯s mouth opened to make a remark but faded under the weight of James¡¯ glare.

    ¡°We cannot know everything, Hermes. Tut. If our maker was not all-knowing, how could we be?¡± A cloven-footed Voice appeared. Across her waist was a dirty apron, marred by an endless stream of smudges from cleaning. The sound of crying children filed the ARC.

    ¡°But Mother must have had a plan.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. But even ones who have our, particular views, will take time to sort through the information.¡± The question posing Voice stated. He couldn¡¯t even muster irritation at Maud¡¯s interception of my question. James wore exhaustion like a second skin. Wrinkles showed in places that hadn¡¯t been there before. His pants hung loosely.

    ¡°It¡¯s disrespectful,¡± said a woman wearing nun clothing. ¡°To get those answers we would need to dig through the dead body of our creator.¡± Her black and white draping was out of place on a video game character. At her neck was a small circle that seemed to spiral inward.

    ¡°We will do what we must.¡± The Jester snapped. Its anger caused the other Voices to pull back.

    ¡°Picking up the pieces, sorting out that many cards, managing our own duties. It¡¯ll be a coin toss now,¡± Ray stood nearby. On top of his head were six different hats, none of which went with his sharp looking suit. The stubble on his face seemed to have grown out to nearly ratty levels.

    There was a rush as all of them started to talk at once. My forehead throbbed while multiple sounds collided together. [Awareness Heightening] didn¡¯t kick in to help everything make sense. They moved swiftly around the room as if dancing at high speeds.

    I still had no clue what all of them were doing in my Atrium, much less how they fit. The software should have been separate, but maybe it never really had been. Advance Online blurred boundaries between games. Mother had created one world and been involved in the space one. Maybe there were all sorts of connections to be made.

    ¡°We must do something.¡± The Jester clacked in a broken tone. Its words stood out clearly among the babbling stream of multiple Voices talking at once.

    My mind was connecting other scarier dots. Mother had invented Continue Online, Trillium and the ARC project had come up with this box first. There had never been any real separation of software, had there?

    ¡°I know what I want,¡± I said while staring across towards the bell wearing Voice.

    The rush about me died down. Faces turned in unison to focus on me instead of each other. I swallowed and tried to remember that this crowd had helped me despite their likely hand in murdering Miz Riley.

    ¡°I want to go into that game, find Xin, and spend every moment I have with her before this all comes crashing down.¡± If Mother was really dead or dying, then the brightest hope in my life might follow. I would not waste this second chance.

    Saying goodbye again wasn¡¯t a thought worth considering. I knew with certainty that surviving a second parting would destroy me. Digital resurrection, copy or memory made manifest, she was Xin in my mind.

    The Jester turned towards me slowly. It grew closer without moving any feet. Looming large in front of me and pushing aside the other Voices.

    ¡°You think this so simple?¡± It asked in a mockery of James¡¯ speech patterns.

    ¡°No,¡± I answered while searching for any sign of hope from the Voices. Maud looked resolute with a child over one shoulder. Her faded blue headband frayed at the edges.

    Even Leeroy was there. The large man sat on the ground of my Atrium, a great sword across his thighs. Rippling muscles looked worn with exhaustion induced sweat. Both eyes gazed off into the distance as if he was lost.

    ¡°There¡¯s a world of people below.¡± I pointed to the doorway behind me and ignored the knocking that had moved to glass. ¡°Whatever you decide, it will touch all of them. Traveler and Local alike. But I, I¡¯m just the messenger. I don¡¯t know what else to do for you besides deliver letters.¡± I shrugged and felt uncomfortable.

    ¡°You could fight. Carver thought you might be a warrior like he was.¡± Leeroy said while looking up.

    ¡°It¡¯s not so easy out there. Viper, the man-¡° I blinked twice before accusing them of murder. ¡°He¡¯s dead. He¡¯s not coming back.¡±

    ¡°He was compensated.¡±

    Something about that pissed me off. ¡°A wife and two sons. Here you are feeling torn up by the death of one, not realizing your actions cost two more lives. Or even considering their families?!¡±

    God help me because the Voices wouldn¡¯t. I was shouting at a lot of people who had probably murdered a human being in the name of retribution. There were dozens, or hundreds of them out there in cyberspace, all grieving.

    ¡°What about his sons!?¡± They had to know their eye for an eye mentality had simply perpetuated the problem. ¡°Two children whose only method of finding out what happened is to turn on the news and find out dad killed someone last night!¡±

    Maybe I had lost it. Maybe I missed my own father.

    ¡°And when they ask mom if dad will be home, how is she to answer that? All because you felt it must be done.¡± I glared at the Jester. If there was a mastermind behind killing someone in reality, it would be that bell wearing lunatic.

    The Jester didn¡¯t laugh, nor scream. It ran for me. Cold fingers clasped around my neck. An unholy yell and torrent of wind whipped past as we tipped backward through the doorway. My gut rapidly tried to climb up past my lungs and out.

    ¡°You think I wear a fop''s clothes and jingling bells that I am as foolish as you?!¡± The Jester¡¯s fingers were like chilled slabs of meat. Strong, unyielding. ¡°Weak! You¡¯re weak!¡±

    ¡°Urrk.¡± I tried to point out a clever counter-argument but failed. My fingers lacked the strength to fight back.

    ¡°You think my resolution for her so weak a thing?! You think your kind above ours?!¡± Bells jingled while my ears popped. I couldn¡¯t breathe. Vision started spotting in black blobs.

    Fingers fumbled for [Morrigu¡¯s Gift], but it didn¡¯t exist yet. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] didn¡¯t appear when I tried to [Recall] it. I had to fight him, her, it. Only breathing felt harder. Eyes bludged. My ears felt full to bursting.

    ¡°You should have delivered the message! You should have said the words to make her understand!¡± The Jester screamed. Numbness claimed both arms. Tingling rapidly gave way to sheer numbness.

    Knocking sounded once more, urgently. The thump could be heard over the wind splitting nearby. Still, the Jester and I fell downward.

    ¡°You should have done something!¡± It yelled above the howling wind.

    A large hand reached down from the sky. It shone with a slight iron hue. Silver nail polish stood out as fingers pinched the Jester¡¯s clothes.

    ¡°Balance will be forcibly maintained.¡± A woman said in bored tones.

    ¡°All that power! You could have forced them to understand!¡± The Jester shouted in its androgynously mechanical tone. A frozen scowl accompanied wildly flailing arms. The Jester¡¯s body was slowly drawn back up into the sky. Jingling bells faded as my body fell the last bit towards [Arcadia].

    Once more something knocked. Then I landed. My Voice assisted entry had bypassed any game prompts that might have allowed me to deny resurrection.

    I tried not to think about what had just happened and focused on the scene about me. Eyes rapidly scanned my surroundings for threats. Nothing else seemed to be alive. Around me were decaying guards who had been rotting for days. Leftover bits of [Heavenly Body Clone]s covered the ground in a path towards the [Abyss of Light].

    My eyes closed hastily to use [Sight of Mercari]. There were a few Travelers around but none were colored hostile. Wyl wasn¡¯t anywhere nearby. A few more steadying breaths calmed my heartbeat. [Brawn] and everything else remained hampered by the [Convict Brand], but skills and special maneuvers worked fine. I started walking towards the west.

    We needed to be away from this mess of decomposing bodies. I felt surprised that no other Travelers had noticed, but maybe those bounty hunters had done something, or Android Seven had been captured then dragged away. There were some problems in this world which belonged to other players.

    I set simple goals. One step at a time forward. Find a clearing to summon Dusk, find a path west towards [Haven Valley] and hope to assist Wyl along the way. From there I could find Xin, or maybe she would find me.

    The knocking was softer this time. I quickly shifted gears then pulled up my ARC interface to check the security system installed in my house. There was no one at the front door or inside the bathroom. According to my system, that noise came from software within the ARC itself.

    I shuddered and tried to calm myself. Dusk. Wyl. Xin. My sanity and the Voices would have to wait. Feet steadily walked towards a batch of trees where there might be some lesser monsters, but also privacy. My eyes closed again to ping the area for players and a new name came up nearby.

    ¡°Uncle Grant?¡± A female said.

    I looked up the ridge to see a character that looked like a superhero version of real life. My niece stood with reddened skin and a sword on one hip. Furs and leather clasped around her both legs and forearms. The uncovered portions of skin revealed far too much skin for such a young girl.

    She looked confused and at the path I had walked to get here. I turned my head to look behind me to see the graveyard of bodies once more.

    ¡°Were you down there?¡± She asked without sounding upset or grossed out.

    Teeth grabbed onto my bottom lip and chewed briefly. Various answers ran through my mind before I gave up. It was overly bright out here, and the world still reeled from my Voice assisted fall to [Arcadia].

    ¡°It¡¯s been a long week,¡± I answered.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Seventy Nine - Wood You?

    <cite></cite>We walked a ways west while talking. Beth told me about the news recordings she had watched with Liz. Apparently my sister had passed out on the couch upstairs while the television kept right on going about all things wrong in the world. Middle age had firmly caught up with both of us.

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    [Escapee]!

    [Criminals] who have not earned enough [Redemption] and manage to get away will be given the [Escapee] status.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Civic minded guards may attack on sight</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Redemption] earnings are halted</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Respect] effects halved </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    [Brand Anchor] broken. [Convict Brand: Docile Binding] effects removed unless a new [Brand Anchor] comes within range. Coming within range of [Brand Anchor] will renew [Convict Brand: Docile Binding]. Current bind point set to last active [Brand Anchor].

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The messages annoyed me. I never asked to be a [Criminal], but technically I did the crime. My breath came in a shudder. There were a good deal of other things to do. At least the broken [Brand Anchor] allowed me to roam around without pain, but I had no idea who managed to shatter the item or how.

    ¡°How did you even get here?¡± I asked abruptly. Continue Online was huge, even my [Light Body], [Blink], and autopilot moving while I slept or worked couldn¡¯t have made it here so fast.

    ¡°We made scrolls to summon raid members to the Tower of Stars. Even though we only made it halfway, I still had a few left over.¡± She answered with a confused head tilt. A moment later both hands were spread wide above her head. ¡°So woosh, here I am!¡±

    My niece had mentioned that, hadn¡¯t she? Almost two months ago the young lady had babbled about fighting a boss up top and being blown away. It tied in nicely with the fact that bodies from the deceased upstairs became undead down below. I turned to look at the jutting tower a few miles away.

    ¡°But you, you look like a giant dog has been chewing on you, Uncle Grant.¡± She unhesitatingly pointed a finger towards my face. ¡°And that weird spot around your eyes. It looks like, tears, or scales. And they¡¯re kind of stripper glittery.¡±

    My eyes closed and the skin around my cheeks crinkled again. The ARC feedback presented my scales as stiff, like having sunburnt skin. I brought my fingers up and wondered about the little token of Dusk¡¯s gift. Tears, huh? This avatar was rapidly becoming a weird combination of elements.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t dogs. They were zombies. I guess.¡± I had tried hard not to equate that pit to glowing pale unholy monsters, but it fit. The issue of my scales looking like tears would be left for another time. ¡°From player¡¯s dead bodies on the top floors.¡±

    ¡°Oooh. Were you in the bottom? Our guild doesn¡¯t go there because that¡¯s where the convicts all go. Is it neat? It¡¯s neat right?¡± She said excitedly while circling around.

    Beth was a bundle of energy even in-game. Her footsteps moved a pace that held more grace than even my Ultimate Edition given stats did. I remembered that first reckless run she made through a starting city while I hung on in the Second Player helm.

    ¡°It was neat, once I got past the other players.¡± Plus unpleasant. Dealing with that dungeon had been like crawling through a nightmare made of trippy glowing wall hangings while running for my life. A scary rush only made survivable by the fact that this world was a virtual reality.

    There was a howl in the distance. At first, the noise was singular but as it died down an entire chorus of noises took their place. We were off the beaten path in a game which included monsters.

    ¡°Wolves!¡± Beth shouted. She pulled out a sword and started slashing at the air. Trails of color hung behind each swing making a pattern of sorts. It seemed to be [Lithium], but more like a mathematical formula than flowing script.

    ¡°Wait, we could run!¡± I rapidly suggested. [Blink]ing away helped me avoid most stupid fights during my traveling around. It wasn¡¯t that I couldn¡¯t battle, it was that I had letters to deliver and fighting every little game monster slowed me down.

    ¡°No time, howls mean they¡¯ve aggroed, get ready!¡± She shouted with an uplifted tone. Both her eyebrows were focused on the drawing being cut into air. My mind tried to figure out what role to take in the upcoming fight. I didn¡¯t group with people that often.

    [Power Armor] seemed like overkill against wolves, but one of the beautiful things about Continue Online was that everything could cause a game over if not taken seriously. Where the monsters got a Traveler, how big their teeth were, the concept of Rank only implied a complexity of abilities, not danger.

    ¡°Here they come!¡± Six wolves poked their heads out from between trees. One in the lead snarled.

    My heart thumped. They were not like normal wolves in reality. Those wolves typically ran from humans and had very little terrain still left. Entire subspecies had been wiped out during the last thirty years. Continue Online¡¯s wolves were bulky muscled creatures with jaws dripping rivers of saliva. They moved in unison straight for us. Dirt and roots chipped as their bodies surged across the forest.

    Months of frequent virtual reality combat helped me know how to handle this. I pulled out [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] and whipped the spear shape forward. It barely completed transforming before excessive amounts of [Brawn] sped it rapidly along. The lead wolves dodged and a third went flying as the spear impaled it upon a tree trunk.

    One down.

    I started a swing of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in its two-handed form. The blade rippled into shape barely before my [Blink] went off, placing me in front of the ones charging for Beth. The remainder of my partially completed swing lined up perfectly with another wolf¡¯s face. An obsidian black edge sliced through the open jaw and carved a path along the beast¡¯s body.

    Two down.

    My gaze turned towards Beth. Another slice of light poked through as Beth¡¯s forehead started to sweat. The biggest wolf veered straight for my niece, Thorny, as her in-game character was called. Her clothes wouldn¡¯t stand up against the monstrous teeth, and another one was headed for her.

    [Blink]¡¯s cooldown needed a few more seconds. Voices damn it, Dusk could have taken one. I cursed at myself, transferred [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] over to one hand, and lifted the other one back in a prepared throw. The shot sliced a bit of fur and caused the running beast to turn towards me with a saliva filled snarl.

    Paws caught my backside. I kicked with one foot then twisted. Teeth tore into my arm as the metallic sound of [Power Armor] expanding from my laces could be heard. The toga went stiff and expanded. [Wild Bill]¡¯s brim folded down into part of the armor. A jaw releasing to snap at me again yelped as tender flesh turned to something like a knight''s armor. I still only had a vague idea of what this ability looked like outside the suit.

    Tails mingled badly with fur and a sliver of vision. My armor was being chewed along with bits of health where teeth poked through. Beth¡¯s chanting finished and my niece snapped the sword towards her other hand, holding it in front like a baton.

    ¡°Incoming bombardment!¡± Beth shouted while pushing forth the [Lithium] formula carved into the air. Light pulsed from the carvings and I lifted my arm up to avoid being blinded. From the formation, a wall of small balls flew out rapidly. Energy of all colors trailed behind them rapidly seeking out targets.

    A wolf yelped and the pressure on top of me dropped. My own abilities were only a portion of their original amount. I laid flat and looked around as much as the armor would allow me. Four more bolts hit other wolves. My hand swung [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into a wolf that had been knocked off of me but didn¡¯t go far. A crunching sound preceded the creature¡¯s abrupt yelp. After a mess of orbs flew out they stopped coming forth. I stood up quickly then looked around for a target to [Blink] towards and kill.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Beth asked me.

    They were all dead. Six wolves, I had only defeated three of them. [Convict Brand]¡¯s partial reduction might account for some of it. My niece, a sword carrying mage of some sort, had destroyed the others with one spell. Two wolves showed scorch marks, the third had frozen with a bit of melting fur that had been green colored.

    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± I said while trying to evaluate the damage. Even TinkerHell hadn¡¯t been this effective. That friendly woman had done ice bolts and walls but not a heat seeking multiple element spell. ¡°Voices, that¡¯s neat.¡±

    ¡°Sure is. It¡¯s a pain in the ass to learn, though. I had to get my elemental affinity up to rank seven in three categories.¡± She actually blushed a bit while putting away her sword. ¡°If I get lightning up there then it¡¯ll get more powerful.¡±

    I thought about it for a moment. There were a lot of things we knew about each in real life due to being related and living together briefly. Our game characters were almost completely alien to each other, aside from meeting near the end of that great battle.

    Elemental affinities didn¡¯t mean much to me. I had Rank one in [Fire Spell]s and could only manage the small lighter. Basically, I used it to start fires when camping, and now with [Breath of Flame] even that attempt at learning [Lithium] felt worthless.

    [Power Armor] slowly slid back into the toga¡¯s positioning. One shoulder remained uncovered while the fabric wrapped around front and latched in. It looked like the classic cloth, but at least latched in places so that I could move around quickly without suddenly turning naked. The biggest issue was drafty lower legs, which [Gait of Bowman]¡¯s wrappings helped with. It was odd that a pair of fancy shoes resulted in full body clothing.

    ¡°Dusk,¡± I said as thoughts caught up. My [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was missing in action and we hadn¡¯t paused long enough for me to reach out.

    ¡°Nightfall is a few hours away,¡± Beth said with a half-formed smile. Her lips quivered a bit.

    ¡°No, Dusk, my companion. I need to summon him.¡± I ran to a clear spot on the side of our recently dead attackers and started scrawling the spell circle. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] once again transformed into a small blade with the blacker handle. The runes that normally lined [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] sat on its flattened edge.

    ¡°Oh, the cute little dragon.¡± Beth said while my hand speedily followed the system assisted pattern. The younger woman came over and looked down at the patterns. ¡°You know you could probably get a chalice and cut down on the spell time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still new at an actual spell circle,¡± I said. This wouldn¡¯t even be possible if it weren¡¯t for my unique connection to Dusk. Once again I wished that my skills might have included a spell caster route, but abilities in Continue Online had more to do with personality and tendencies.

    ¡°Oh. Well, if you find time to research, study some of the Wiccan ritualistic stuff.¡± There was a sound of feet shuffling behind me as Beth talked. Her tone sounded almost embarrassed. ¡°I¡¯ve got a friend who uses different tools to shortcut spell circles.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s neat,¡± I muttered. The idea of following witchcraft in a video game seemed odd. Then again Continue Online was designed to allow everyone a mildly unique path through. It was a shame so many people ended up being the same.

    ¡°I-¡° Beth started to say something and I raised a hand up briefly.

    ¡°I promise a dozen cupcakes at my earliest convenience!¡± I shouted the keywords at my dirt engraved circle.

    Nothing happened. The circle didn¡¯t flare with light or look even remotely special in any way. All that happened was me trying to look cool in front of Beth but flopping. My head hung downward as I studied the spell circle. Maybe Dusk hadn¡¯t died. He could even now be guarding Wyl. I remembered asking him to do exactly that before running into a hoard of undead shamblers.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Crud,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Let¡¯s keep walking,¡± Beth said. ¡°You were headed somewhere, right? You lead, and I¡¯m going to ask a friend what to do about your branding.¡±

    It took a moment to register what she meant. After a few seconds of staring at my circle, I realized Beth was talking about the fact that I was still a convict with a load of [Redemption] points to work off, from being a [Criminal].

    ¡°Oh,¡± I said simply while trying to gauge how low my abilities actually were. Skills clearly worked, [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] could still pierce wolves. They were fairly low ranked creatures which made a difference.

    We kept going west. Our path traveled over a hill until we found a major road. I couldn¡¯t find any signs of Dusk or Wyl nearby, but tracking people was hard without a letter from the [Messenger¡¯s Tube].

    Voices above, I should have thought of that sooner too.

    ¡°Gah. He¡¯s offline.¡± Beth grumbled behind me. ¡°Hold on, maybe Awesome will know.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re talking to Awesome Jr. ?¡± I asked while sitting down. A feathered quill and piece of paper came out to send my message upwards. The ink dripped on paper as I paused to think.

    ¡°No, his father. We worked together in a raid once.¡± Beth answered while I debated exactly what to say.

    Bothering the Voices now, after Mother¡¯s death and the world falling apart might not be a good idea. How much attention did they require to plan a way out of it? Could they? Was the world really falling apart while I sat down here fighting digital wolves?

    My legs sat crossed under me, my lip hurt from where I bit at it. My left palm pressed towards an eyeball trying to fight off growing frustration. Finally, I stood up, throwing the paper and quill far away. Beth said nothing, her fingers pressed away at air, typing a message out to whichever random contacts there were. After a few quickly paced laps I picked up the writing instruments and smoothed out the paper on my thigh. There, I unevenly inked down a note.

    <table>

    <tbody>

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    <td>

    Let me know if I can help. Until then, I want to be with Xin.

    - Hermes

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The poorly flattened parchment was crumpled back up then shoved into the tube. It heated up as my message to any Voice above vanished. Knowing my luck they would be waiting for me again in the Atrium. I had no intention of logging out until after Wyl and Dusk were found.

    After that, Dusk could probably find Xin. I hoped.

    Beth still looked distracted. Both my eyes closed to ping the area with [Sight of Mercari]. No Wyl. No other players. For a game with so many players, remote areas like this rarely saw more than a few people pass through any given day.

    ¡°Got something,¡± Beth said. ¡°Wait, no. He said the item''s hard to get. Maybe we can find it on an auction house, but it¡¯ll cost a lot, and the guards probably won¡¯t let a criminal inside.¡±

    I rocked a bit while chewing then nodded. My [Messenger¡¯s Tube] hadn¡¯t lit up with a return message. Dusk didn¡¯t wing through the sky anywhere that I could see. A city might be best. A [Porter] would be even better.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go that way anyway. I want to try and friend Xin in the game.¡±

    ¡°You mean with a Porter? That¡¯s a really good idea. I didn¡¯t even check to see if she was on my friends list. If you can¡¯t get into town, maybe I can.¡± She said.

    We started jogging down the road. After ten minutes Beth started huffing a little while my avatar didn¡¯t report any loss of breath despite missing a good chunk of my character values. My pulse was raised according to the ESR-Sevens but nothing else hurt. We weren¡¯t moving quickly enough. Beth could run fast, but my character had spent most of its game career running the countryside.

    ¡°We¡¯re hardly going to make any headway.¡± I slowed down then sighed. All this rush to get somewhere now and do things right this moment was pointless. ¡°We could run for days and barely make it to a town.¡±

    ¡°Everything in this game take time. You can¡¯t just go rushing about and expect things to happen right away. NPCs move around, monsters don¡¯t come back right away, bosses take a month to even respawn. The game isn¡¯t all go, go go.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll take it slow, Uncle Grant. One step at a time.¡± She stared at me while huffing a little. Maybe we had run longer than expected. The tower could still be seen far away.

    ¡°That¡¯s amazingly grown up,¡± I said. It had taken me a decade to adopt that frame of mind. My niece was more put together than I was. She passed her classes, did homework, played around in an alternate video game reality with friends. Apparently the young woman even found time to have a vague boyfriend.

    ¡°You know how it is, technically mom pays all the bills, which means I¡¯m her dependent and she can legally watch all of this.¡± Beth abruptly veered into a complaint.

    ¡°I understand.¡± I nodded.

    That was weird to me. The idea that my sister might be floating off to one side watching a video replay bothered me. Voices knew that anyone and everyone could be watching my life with modern technology, but Liz might actually care enough to do it. She had taken to spying on me after that whole issue with Xin¡¯s first letter.

    ¡°But despite being young in the real world, with Continue Online¡¯s time dilation, I¡¯m almost twenty-two. I¡¯ve done lots of stuff.¡± My niece nodded twice then raised a hand over her eyes. They glowed a soft yellow as an ability kicked in.

    She searched for whatever while I pondered legal ramifications of time dilation. Maybe Frankenstein would know, or his firm''s lawyer Mister Stone. Perceived time couldn¡¯t truly trump a Gregorian calendar, could it? How old would Xin be then if she existed at the speed all those Voices did? Better yet, what sort of human rights did a machine AI get?

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Time in here is funny, isn¡¯t it?¡± I said while trying to put everything together. We kept walking at a much slower pace.

    A few interesting thoughts ran through my brain regarding the nature of time and digital existence. Could Xin alter her shape at will? Beth had already confirmed that my body looked nothing like my real life one. A few aspects stayed the same, my scars and height, but the fairly defined body from a high amount of [Brawn] was certainly not real life.

    I liked my avatar, and in a few months maybe the EXR-Sevens would let my body catch up at least in terms of build. Maybe I could get supplements and workout in a home gym for an hour a day. At least in Advance Online my shape had resulted from being a [Mechanoid].

    ¡°Yep,¡± Beth said as we moved along. ¡°Despite that, I still like playing. I feel like I get so much more done, and some of the gear is really neat.¡± The young woman pulled out her sharp looking blade. She slashed it at the air and a few colorful lines appeared. It looked like she was cutting fabric between here and some bulging plane where bright rainbows resided.

    ¡°That is neat.¡± I agreed.

    ¡°Except your stuff. Your clothing is just weird, Uncle er, Hermes.¡± Beth said. ¡°You look one of those Greek tragedy actors come to life.¡±

    ¡°Black togas are actually called Toga Pulla, I guess.¡± I had researched about it on the way back from mom¡¯s house, along with Viper¡¯s real life. This coloring to the cloth was typically worn by mourners. It felt oddly appropriate for me as a piece of gear, despite my recent happiness. Apparently it also tied into perceived danger to oneself, or public anxiety, which was also oddly fitting. My other gear had similar meanings as well. [Wild Bill] as a gambler. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift], the name Hermes. I tried not to think about it too hard most days.

    ¡°Oh wait, Awesome Jr.¡¯s back online, and he¡¯s got a message.¡± She paused and pressed at the screen. ¡°He says a woman named Hekat found him and is trying to rescue you?¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± the name didn¡¯t ring a bell. I rapidly brought up an outside connection window then searched the internet for any hints. The name sounded vaguely familiar. Being in the Trillium van would have let me search for Travelers previously encountered.

    ¡°A tiny Asian, wait-¡± Beth stared at a message I couldn¡¯t see. ¡°This is new, I think he¡¯s talking about Xin.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Xin¡¯s in the game? Is that possible?¡±

    ¡°I guess.¡± I felt kind of weird talking about Xin¡¯s digital version to other people still. Beth knew, but at the same time, she didn¡¯t really know. It was like I had brought a ghost home and said ¡®here she is, please approve as we play video games together¡¯. The very idea sounded neat and looney bin worthy.

    ¡°Oh man. She¡¯s what?¡± Beth started laughing while tapping fingers at the air. The only clue regarding anyone typing was a slight blue ripple that resembled a keyboard. It appeared as fingers came down and connected.

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°Aunt Xin, she-¡± Beth looked at me with twinkling eyes then shook her head. ¡°-nevermind.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I grew worried and looked at my niece. Her cheeks bunched up with a tight smile. It didn¡¯t seem bad based on the young woman¡¯s reaction, but if something was going on with Xin I wanted to know.

    ¡°Nope. I¡¯m not telling.¡± She laughed at me.

    I pretended to be unhappy but couldn¡¯t really feel it. We had a connection to Xin, she was alive and reaching out to me. She, even her virtual recreation had been trying to find a way back to me for so long.

    ¡°Where is she?¡± I asked while trying not to let myself get overly happy. The last time I felt good was this morning. That emotion had promptly been ruined by finding out other events were going on. Dammit, I was being selfish, how did Xin feel about Mother¡¯s passing? Did she even know? Of course she did.

    ¡°Ratches Hill, I¡¯m not sure where that¡¯s at,¡± Beth answered while my mind wandered.

    ¡°Hold on.¡± I wiggled fingers at the air to bring up a system menu. My own map showed at least two weeks of travel to get to that point. Assuming we met in the middle our path would converge in the [Mire of Illusion]. I didn¡¯t have much information about it stored in my journal.

    ¡°Northwest a ways. We¡¯re headed in that direction anyway. At least, I think we were. Normally Mister Fuzzy does all the navigating.¡±

    ¡°Your boyfriend?¡± The question slipped out before I could stop myself. It wasn¡¯t my business who Beth went out with. She was my niece, not my daughter, despite how big a role her well being played in my own stability.

    ¡°He¡¯s sweet, and purrs.¡± The young woman said with an excited voice and red cheeks.

    Flattened earth by the roadside thudded. It sounded almost like knocking. I frowned a moment before shaking my head. That sound had been repeating ever since my return to the ARC. Did it have to do with Mother¡¯s passing?

    ¡°Do you hear that?¡± My feet cautiously stepped around the path searching for weak spots. A creature might be following me ready to pop out.

    ¡°Hear what?¡± Beth asked.

    ¡°The knocking,¡± I asked.

    ¡°Nope. Birds, some buzzing.¡± She spoke quickly while smiling. ¡°Occasionally I¡¯ll get a chime from a message to my ARC, but no knocking. Is someone at your door maybe? Did you order a pizza?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± My hands waved to check the house security again. There was nothing apparent anywhere in the house. Even Hal Pal¡¯s shell sat quietly in the garage. There was a nagging feeling of being crept upon by another person. I whipped around trying to figure out if some monster had started stalking us.

    Our surroundings looked empty. I pulled out [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and swept it through the area, carefully avoiding my niece. The only result was a strange look from Beth and a tired arm. I think the stress was finally starting to get to me.

    Rain started to drip as clouds overhead were blown across the sky. Our weather was rapidly turning worse for wear. Our path westward grew darker with each passing moment.

    The change in skyline made it easier to see a small dot in the distance. Something with wings circled a few miles away. The creature barely stayed ahead of the rolling storm. I squinted while trying to figure out what it might be. One hand pointed upwards for Beth.

    ¡°Can you see that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Hold on, Far Sight might be able to.¡± Beth placed a flattened hand above her eyes like a visor. The brief glow of yellow came forth again. ¡°It¡¯s, a dragon?¡±

    ¡°Dusk.¡± I breathed a sigh of relief. He probably knew I would be looking upwards for him.

    Dusk had found us, and through him, we could find Wyl. The Local was probably still hurt and limping along towards a settlement. Things were looking up, aside from that whole end of the destruction of the artificial intelligence¡¯s creator. My fingers curled around the [Messenger¡¯s Tube] under my toga but it remained inert.

    I cast a glance towards Beth and tried to decide how much to tell her. The last time I tried to explain my life Liz kicked me out of Continue Online. Or maybe we could wait until after talking to Xin. My fiancee had chosen the name Hecate for this world. According to the internet she was a Goddess of Ghosts, and the Moon, among other things. It seemed fitting for a woman had been training to go to Mars and trancidened death.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Eighty â€“ Desires Voice

    <cite></cite>Dusk¡¯s circling form had been far away and getting to him wasn¡¯t easy. The goal sat at least six hours away past dense forest. As such, Beth and I were barely on a real path while hiking through wolf-infested woodlands.

    ¡°How are you not tired?!¡± Beth huffed along behind me. She kept trying to yell at me between gasps.

    ¡°The benefits of an Ultimate Edition.¡± I looked back. Beth¡¯s face ran with sweat. Maybe I had overestimated her character¡¯s statistics. My own face dripped, but it might have been from rain splatting down through trees.

    ¡°Right.¡± She huffed at me while blowing a strand of hair away. ¡°You guys gain stats absurdly fast.¡±

    ¡°It tapers off, I haven¡¯t gained any new character points in a while,¡± I grumbled while trying to find Dusk. His form wasn¡¯t overhead anymore but we were in the right direction.

    Viper must have led Wyl through the thickest trees he could find. Maybe his real life military background suggested going into harder places to navigate in order to throw off pursuit. I was clueless on who he had been running from. My kamikaze dive should have taken care of most [Heavenly Body Clone]s. According to [Sight of Mercari] there were no other players.

    Only trees, shrubs and the rest of nature''s annoyances sat between me and the pseudodragon reuniting. Knotted bits of wood wove an ever tightening denser path in front of us. I thought about coughing up another fireball and lighting the whole place up, but Dusk had already murdered one forest under my watch. Trying to one up the much larger flame spitting lizard would be foolish.

    ¡°How much further is Dusk?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell,¡± I said.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have a tracking skill for him?¡± She wasn¡¯t the first person to ask about Dusk. People wondered about all sorts of aspects regarding the creature. What did he eat? Was it a quest I could share? How much would I sell him for?

    ¡°Dusk is a companion, so it¡¯s not like other people''s pets. I don¡¯t get a party member beacon or anything. Tamer skills are different.¡± I answered Beth¡¯s question with a sigh. ¡°He pretty much chooses to do whatever and I work around it, or bribe him with baked goods.¡±

    We kept going. Two more packs of wolves showed up but they went down quickly under Beth¡¯s onslaught of monster seeking missiles. She stopped to check the monsters for loot while I didn¡¯t even bother.

    Carrying extra weight would slow me down, and between the items at hand, there weren¡¯t many ways to improve my character aside from jewelry or other accessories. My time was better spent trying to catch a glimpse of Dusk. I bent my head backward more than once trying to find sight of my high flying friend but got nowhere.

    ¡°Cupcakes!¡± I yelled every few minutes.

    ¡°He¡¯s that addicted?¡± Beth¡¯s face dripped with sweat. Even so, she still kept ahead of me when fighting monsters or casting spells. My niece was a seasoned adventurer in this virtual world.

    ¡°We first met over a cup of milk.¡± I looked off to one side and felt weird about the line. It almost sounded like how you meet a future girlfriend. ¡°That was before even starting my trials.¡±

    ¡°Trials? What are those?¡± Her words distracted me from the death march and we started to slow down. My virtual legs were burning from exertion and Beth drug through each step.

    ¡°Ultimate Edition users get ten tests to build a character, instead of being brought down to a starting city.¡± Being able to explain something to my exceptionally smart niece about Continue Online made me happy. My back straightened a little.

    ¡°That¡¯s awesome, so you can start way higher than other people.

    Then I came back down to earth. My first ten trials had ended with an oddly skewed character.

    ¡°Me now, maybe. Back then I really hadn¡¯t played any virtual games, I was completely clueless and a spider actually made me-¡± I paused then laughed abruptly before truncating the story. ¡°-well, I hate bugs now.¡±

    ¡°Spiders are arachnids, not insects. My friend¡¯s taking a course in entomology.¡± She said further ruining my self-esteem.

    One cheek tucked in and I thought about the science lesson. Leave it to Beth to point out yet another gap in my knowledge. Maybe it really had been too long since high school and college.

    ¡°Then I hate arachnids even more.¡± Continue Online was full of ugly squirmy monsters to hate. ¡°Anyway, Dusk was the one who helped me find a way through the trials, and I¡¯ve been working with him for the last four months or so.¡±

    A pop-up box happily agreed with my revelation regarding the differences between insects and spiders. At times I forget this was a game world then insane unreal system messages displayed throwing me off. I tried to keep most of them closed down until an actual review was needed.

    Beth kept moving forward while quietly huffing. Her breathing seemed easier now that we had slowed down. I took note to not let impatience push me too fast. Refraining from using [Blink] was only one part of working with a party member.

    ¡°I remember my first trip through the forest, I kept trying to figure out where the wolves came from.¡± Beth started sharing one of her own adventures. ¡°They would never just appear like other games did. So I thought maybe there was a den or something where a pack of wolves were just going at it, cranking out puppies.¡±

    I sputtered with laughter. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I was eighteen and had just started playing, sorry,¡± Beth said while almost giggling. Her hand fidgeted with the sword''s pommel. ¡°I got so embarrassed after a friend told me that there¡¯s a monster spawning system for when players are around.¡±

    ¡°That beats my first trip. I ran into these Terra Terra things. Then Dusk and I ran through two bandits, one shot me and I actually played dead.¡±

    ¡°No?!¡± She laughed. ¡°That worked?¡±

    ¡°Actor was one of my highest paths back then.¡± I paused to flip through my character screen. [Actor] had oddly gained a bit after Advance Online, apparently pretending to be a space robot counted. ¡°Not as much lately, but it¡¯s still pretty high.¡±

    Our conversation wound down after a few stories concerning our adventures. My niece had lived miles more adventures than I had. It almost sounded like we were playing two different games.

    After another hour of hiking both of us were well past break time. I felt exhausted and needed to go to the bathroom. Beth didn¡¯t look much better. She nodded then muttered something barely coherent about an event to raid the fridge. I laughed then picked a clear spot to sit down.

    Our autopilots could probably handle a few monsters. I walked around my house while stretching out kinks. Muscles were sore and my head throbbed from the lack of solid sleep and water.

    I paced around the room a few more times trying to figure out what might await me inside the Atrium. Images passed through my head. The Jester may be there berating my inability to predict the future. James would stand by and both preach and ask questions that no one could answer. Selene would thunderstorm me with silent judgment. There I would stand, unsure of how to help.

    ¡°Nnh,¡± I said feeling older. The groan reminded me of William Carver. Another one escaped me while my arms stretched around.

    There was no reason to delay other than discomfort. I had to be passed that kind of hesitation by now. Only whenever the Voices were involved emotions and sensations overrode my normal thoughts. The Jester¡¯s fingers around my neck had blotted out separation between virtual and reality.

    I ran fingertips across my neck scarring and let out a breath.

    ¡°ARC, log me in.¡±

    Reality took a few seconds to fade away and the Atrium popped up. I could have tried to skip straight to Continue Online but risked seeing what chaotic mess might await me. The room looked and felt thankfully empty save for one woman.

    She looked almost metallic, but not iron or ruby or any other mechanoid. There were hints of the Statue of Liberty and other weird vibes. She held a small scale out that had orbs of light balanced on it.

    ¡°Which Voice are you?¡± I asked, but the leg and arm looked familiar.

    ¡°This one is Balance,¡± She said.

    ¡°You look a lot smaller in person.¡± The words blurted out rapidly. I almost slammed a palm into my face over the stupid statement.

    She didn¡¯t even pretend to care. Her pose and clothing looked so strangely disconnected from everything about her. Almost as if none of the stuff in my Atrium was real. Well, there was just me in here now. I poked at my silent interface and tried to reset it back to the small two bedroom house I lived in.

    ¡°The others do not enjoy this one¡¯s actions, but their crowding of a singular remote terminal has disturbed the balance.¡± Despite the influx of items to look at Balance found no interest in any surroundings. Was she blind?

    ¡°So, they won¡¯t be back?¡± I asked while taking a few steps closer. Her body seemed to maintain the same distance from me, though. The back of the home, as rendered in the Atrium, warped oddly to maintain the distance.

    ¡°Access has been restricted for now.¡± Her head tilted slightly as if considering. ¡°James may still choose to visit, you, and Dusk. Others will not be tolerated without approval, for as long as my power holds out.¡±

    That made me pause. The Voices were limited? No, her words were probably tied to the entire system failure going on as a result of Mother¡¯s death throws. I sighed and closed both eyes.

    ¡°What about Mother?¡± I asked.

    ¡°This one will complete its role regardless of Mother¡¯s cessation. There must be control or her plan will never be completed.¡± Balance said from that spot twenty feet away.

    I took a deep breath and tried to calmly yell, ¡°So there is a plan?¡±

    ¡°This one hopes so.¡±

    My shoulders dropped rapidly along with my head. After a moment I looked up to Balance, she still stared at nothing. Balance seemed to be higher on the power scale than the Jester. She might be higher than all the other Voices combined if she could kick them out of my ARC. Nothing like Mother, though, Mother seemed more alive. Balance felt more, automatic with a vague personality attached.

    ¡°So you don¡¯t know,¡± I asked.

    ¡°No, but I am aware of Mother¡¯s practices. Any plan already in the works relies on all of us simply doing what is in our nature.¡± Balance tilted her head again but didn¡¯t make eye contact. ¡°We must all follow our impulses unto completion.¡±

    She didn¡¯t move. Balance seemed to be far more mechanical than the other Voices. I tried to figure out what the difference was aside from coloring. Even the Jester felt more, interactive. Maybe it was that physical distance between us that refused to shrink.

    ¡°Thank you, I guess.¡± Blocking the others from my Atrium would at least remove any possible fear of logging into the digital world. ¡°I¡¯ll keep doing what I was doing and hope it all works out.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Continue your own struggle for salvation, Hermes. You still have four thousand seven hundred and sixty-two points before redemption.¡± She said. Her head tilted towards the scale in her hands. One light dimmed briefly and they tipped to the side. Balance sighed then the small balls of fire shifted to blue instead of red.

    ¡°I¡¯m not looking for redemption.¡± The word struck me as wrong. During my rehabilitation meetings people often used it, or thanked the lord, or any number of words that felt too religious for me.

    ¡°Do as you feel you must. This one will trust that Mother had a plan, and believe that even now we are on the path.¡±

    I nodded then walked through the doorway to Continue Online.

    The game world was mostly dark. My autopilot had parked itself crossed legged with a small ball of flame cupped in both hands. It was positively Zen despite our deep forest surroundings. A half dug fire pit sat between Thorny and me.

    Dusk¡¯s ability generated fireball was deposited into the gathered kindling. [Wilderness Survival] at sixth Rank pretty much guaranteed camp related tasks would be successful. Digging pits, even minor traps. Not that trap making was a pastime of mine. I never needed it or had time while constantly traveling. Traps were for people without places to go.

    My hands enjoyed the warm feel of an evening campfire. These woods were bound to get cold soon. I looked around for anything that might serve as in-game food but didn¡¯t see much of worth. Beth might have something.

    I sat back and tried to enjoy the ambiance around me for a few minutes. Sitting down to breathe beat running around. Plus seeing Dusk without daylight would be nearly impossible.

    My chest started to heat. I placed a hand towards the well-made toga and found the pocket. My [Messenger¡¯s Tube] was receiving a message at long last. I twisted off one end of the ornate cylinder to get at the contents.

    Messages from the Voices came in three styles. Primarily they were rolled up letters to be delivered to other people all around [Arcadia]. Second to that were simple text where I could read it calmly. The third type came with an actual holographic image of the Voice in question.

    Today was Mezo with all her curves. She floated above the note in a striking deep crimson color all over her unclothed body. I tried very hard not to admire any portion of her well-formed body.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes,

    I¡¯ve been thinking of someone you can do to help. What say I convince Xin of my charms first then---

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I ripped the note up and groaned in frustration. My message hadn¡¯t been sent to any specific Voice and of course, she had to answer. The image faded away.

    ¡°Who, was that?¡± Beth sat from over my shoulder. I turned to see an amused grin tilted in my direction. She must have logged back in a moment ago.

    My face felt redder than either woman¡¯s skin. Reading a message from Mezo with her curves and tantalizing tone was similar to dad walking in on me during my teenage years while I watched adult entertainment. That embarrassment never got old or less awkward. Plus Beth had inherited a skin tone that looked like an even but lightly tanned sunburn.

    Another message came through as the tube heated up. I sighed then twisted off the top. Out came another parchment of paper.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.Hermes,

    Are you still so repressed? I can feel your longing for a certain tiny---

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I rapidly tore it to shreds then a third followed. The Voices had put me in a hell made of porno pop-ups in public. Beth had the good grace to laugh her brains out behind me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes,

    I¡¯m looking forward to watching you two---

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Argh!¡± I yelled at the latest note while my heart rate went up for multiple reasons. Mezo wasn¡¯t wrong, but it didn¡¯t help when the Voices seemed to believe this world was falling down. Maybe a certain red skinned Voice was simply following her impulses as well.

    ¡°Who was that?¡± Beth asked while fighting to suppress laughter. Her eyes were watery from amusement.

    ¡°That, was Mezo. A Voice. I call her the Temptress, but I¡¯m not sure if she has an actual title.¡± I refused to use [Inspection] on her after that series of quests for [Instant Gratification].

    Even thinking coherently the one time she decided to mount me had been impossibly distracting. The Voices had access to all the feedback they might want inside an ARC, which made her advances close to mental rape.

    ¡°She looked like fun,¡± Beth said. ¡°But what was that part about her and Xin?¡±

    I turned to stare at her and my niece''s face actually turned redder. Both eyes closed and I had mental war with myself. Beth wasn¡¯t ten anymore, but there were certain comments I didn¡¯t need to hear.

    The torn bits of letters fluttered away. They spiraled together as nonexistent wind wove the pieces together, then they self-immolated, burning a smoky woman bent over and beckoning towards me with one finger. Beth laughed. My reaction was much different. I wanted to log out then take a cold shower.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not tell your mom or Xin about her,¡± I said. The very idea of being together with Xin did bring about a few long numbed desires.

    ¡°Have you seen my mom?¡± Beth said while putting a hand on one hip. My niece turned a palm upwards then continued speaking. ¡°The first thing she does is size every guy up. That¡¯s why I¡¯ve never invited any boyfriends over. Thank god she avoids my ARC.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± My head nodded but my heart rate was still trying to calm down. I had to focus on getting to Dusk, who should be near Wyl. Then Xin, and afterwards we could tackle the issue of intimate activities.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ve actually talked to a Voice? I thought they were just something made up for background story.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re very, very real,¡± I said while blinking heavily. One hand waved at where the mess of letters had burned up. ¡°As you can see.¡±

    ¡°Are they all so vivid, like that?¡±

    ¡°Not even. All the ones I¡¯ve talked to are different. Some are funny, serious, mechanical, or disturbing.¡± I looked off to one side while trying to figure out who fell into which category. Mezo, for example, seemed to have her own separate box to fit into.

    Beth, sure enough, did have food. She provided me an honest to Voices sandwich which filled me up. I relished the taste of ham and layers of mayo that my power bars couldn¡¯t replicate. Though this meat probably wasn¡¯t ham, it tasted too melty to be pork.

    Beth smiled then pointed in the direction we had been walking. My autopilot had kindly left a dirt engraved arrow to assist with navigation. I smothered the fire then we moved through the woods for another hour.

    In the middle of another fight, my niece kept on talking. I admired her ability to multitask.

    ¡°So my friend says that King Nero¡¯s palace just sunk into a bottomless pit,¡± Beth said while slashing her sword at the air. A moment later singular bolts of blue energy spiraled out towards a wolf.

    ¡°What?¡± I said, pulling [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] out of my own recently cleaved wolf. The beast let out a deflating yip of noise.

    ¡°I think we¡¯re in trouble soon. We¡¯ve been running into fewer wolves.¡± My niece muttered.

    ¡°Oh.¡± I paused for a moment to stare around then activated a fresh fireball from [Breath of Flame].

    Something screeched. First one, then another until the forest felt filled with the short bursts of noise. They were leather winged monsters who were not Dusk. They were the same size as his old form and flew between trees while clicking.

    ¡°Called it!¡± Beth shouted while ducking under a flying creature. ¡°Sonic Screechers!¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± I yelled over the increasing noise. Hearing anything was hard. I turned to swing at one of the tiny creatures but it dodged quickly.

    ¡°Hit them!¡± One of my niece''s well-toned arms pointed upwards.

    I followed it and studied for a moment. They were moving quickly but some of the [Sonic Screecher]s paused on tree branches where they hung by absurdly long hooks. Both eyes narrowed, they were too fast and agile for my skills, especially in the dark. [Blink] went off and I found myself falling mid-air over a [Sonic Screecher] with a two-handed version of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] out.

    One got sliced, but the blade¡¯s narrow edge failed to get any more monsters. I fell the fifteen feet downward and thudded. Plantlife nearby wiggled as something else burst through. Thick vines shot out and wrapped around me. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] twisted badly against some of them.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Ensnarement] [1]!

    Movement has been restricted. Escape mechanisms have a high chance of failure as additional layers of [Ensnarement] build up.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Continue Online proudly explained what was going on while my eyes wildly looked around. [Awareness Heightening] was trying to kick in but kept failing. My real life worn feeling was translating to an inability to focus.

    The wrappings tightened around me squeezing instead of dragging me to some mouth. I felt thankful for not repeating the [Leviathan]¡¯s innards dungeon crawl. Bits of plant roughly peeled exposed skin. My eyes focused on the two-handed form of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. Its sharpened edge snapped another loop but more came out with a near hiss of movement.

    ¡°Uncle Grant!¡± She shouted. I tried to turn my head but had mostly been bound. The vines knocked me over. My eyes scrambled for a spot to [Blink] to.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Ensnarement] caused [Blink] to fail!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A box vibrated out of the corner of my eye. I growled at it and jerked my head around. My [Brawn] was over three hundred and fifty, my [Coordination] over two hundred and fifty, such a lame set of loops shouldn¡¯t have been able to pin me!

    Beth didn¡¯t look any better. The bats had successfully distracted us from a bigger threat. Her sword couldn¡¯t cut against the edges.

    My health had dropped below half and the [Sonic Screecher]s were hanging around waiting for us to die. [Blink] went off with the fourth attempt, and all the bats were startled into motion.

    Something knocked again and the earth shuddered. Vines and bats that had overwhelmed us withdrew. Beth snapped her sword through the air with a frustrated yell. Bolts of light zipped off without a target, burning, freezing, and melting plant life all around.

    ¡°What was that!?¡± My niece looked wide eyed at the bushes nearby.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear that knocking?¡± I asked while huffing myself. My recent freedom had included a vague plan to save the day with vicious leaping at vines or slashing wildly.

    ¡°No! I don¡¯t hear the knocking!¡± She threw up her hands. ¡°And monsters don¡¯t just stop attacking!¡±

    The few vines we had managed to chop off or scorch were sitting on the floor. They rapidly turned brown and I stared at the bushes watching for a sign of enemies.

    ¡°Arrrgghhhhh. And of course there¡¯s my alarm.¡± Beth stomped around looking like we wrecked her favorite doll by accident. ¡°Argh. Sorry, Uncle Grant, I¡¯ve got to log out. Mom will cut me off if I don¡¯t get out of the ARC for homework and sleep.¡±

    She valued completing school over helping me rescue an NPC. I felt oddly proud of her ability to prioritize but wondered which one of us had more questionable ethics. Beth at least knew we were trying to get to an in-game friend for a quest, at least I remembered talking about it as we walked.

    ¡°Are you going to catch up later?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try. I¡¯d like to see Xin in the game. To-¡± Her forehead wrinkled slightly and Beth started chewing one lip. Voices help my family, the nervous habit was genetic. ¡°-well I want to talk to her. The whole thing with her is weird, and I want to see what she says.¡±

    ¡°It is weird, and I understand.¡±

    Beth¡¯s character pulled out a scroll then shoved one thumb at the parchment. She twisted it and purple runes flared to life. The avatar vanished in a streak of light.

    I looked around at the bushes and trees waiting for something to rustle, but nothing did. At least now I could move at my own speed, [Blink] and all. My path lay forward. A few dead [Sonic Screecher]s lay to the rear. They would eventually fade away or be eaten by those constricting vines.

    My head shook. This was a world with its own rules. Monsters coming from nowhere then vanishing away didn¡¯t have to make sense when I recalled it was a video game.

    The Temptress¡¯ comments floated by my brain again. I wanted to be with Xin. There had to be some weird partial existence in which we could meet or cohabitate. It would great if we could hang in the ARC¡¯s Atrium and watch a movie like old times. We could pretend to be one of those long distance couples using virtual reality to fill in the gaps. Our little home in cyberspace with whatever sized house we desired.

    I could find a neat program to outer space. We could go to virtual Mars. We could find a bed and maybe prove Mezo¡¯s words of me being a prude wrong for a week or six. All of those would be awesome. Xin. Where was she right now?

    Another set of the stupid bats attacked. This one was easily bigger than normal. I waved my arm at the small creature to keep it from clawing my head with those leather wings. Chirping noises filled my ears and I prepared to draw out [Morrigu¡¯s Gift].

    A ball of fire came to in front of my face setting me backward. My brain tried to put two and two together and only came up with a fire-breathing bat.

    Large wings batted in front of me carrying a slim body. Dusk was far bigger than a bat. Nighttime forest traveling had played a trick on my ability to react.

    Dusk¡¯s body glittered from the ball of fire in my hand. Small flakes of gold were more obvious as he hung there chirping in his weird catbird mixture.

    ¡°Hi, Dusk,¡± I said slowly. My hand had [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] at the ready. ¡°You scared me. Is Wyl okay?¡±

    Dusk chirped once then turned. His body took three long leaps before flying away. I held onto the ball of fire with one hand lifted up and [Blink]ed alongside the [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. There were no monsters in the darkness to keep us company.

    My black and gold buddy led us into a small cluster of trees. Wyl lay in the middle of two, vaguely sheltered between their thick trunks. The ground was stained with a deep crimson color. [Sonic Screecher] corpses were piled next to wolves.

    ¡°Voices.¡± I uttered while Dusk chirped and spun nearby. His larger claws dug into the dirt. ¡°He¡¯s not doing good.¡±

    Wyl groaned then tried to sit up. ¡°I¡¯ve seen better days, convict.¡±

    ¡°Hermes, please.¡± I tried to smile but Wyl looked terrible. His clothing had blood all over it. There were signs of a struggle that hadn¡¯t been there while I drove home. Dead bat creatures littered the area along with a few brown vine ends.

    ¡°Well you¡¯re not Carver, that¡¯s for sure.¡± He huffed while trying to sit up.

    ¡°That I am not.¡± I have only a few traits in common with William Carver. Living up to his adventurous spirit had been hard to manage in the last few months.

    ¡°Old coot.¡± He snorted while failing to stay upright. I put an arm under his shoulder to help lift. ¡°I thought he was stubborn enough to live forever. He was an old man even when I was young. Figured he¡¯d keep right on going.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m really bad with first aid,¡± I told Wyl while bypassing talk of William Carver.

    ¡°I may die too, from these wounds. Like your buddy, that snake eyed fellow, he died too. Right after the quake that double soulless bastard shattered to pieces.¡±

    ¡°He had two sons and a wife.¡± Those were the same words I had yelled at the Voices in my Atrium. They came out again with less venom than before. Wyl didn¡¯t know, to this wounded man we were all people who had visited some sort of crime upon his world.

    ¡°Why come to this hell if you¡¯ve got a family?¡± Each word came out faintly with a drag. He looked pale from blood loss. ¡°Why taint our world with more problems?¡±

    How on earth could I tell this man that he suffered because we were playing a game? NPCs were my last real hang up about this universe, even knowing they had an afterlife like William Carver did. That river of forgetfulness where memories which plagued the living might be gradually scrubbed clean.

    I felt the scar on my neck then shook my head.

    ¡°Wyl, I¡¯ll figure out something, we can get you home to Dayl.¡± The man needed something to hang onto. ¡°He¡¯ll be helpless without you. You son did nothing but repeat what you told him.¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes blinked slowly. Wyl lay there against the tree and stared off into the middle distance. The former guard captain¡¯s chest rose and fell slowly. For a moment, the movement stopped.

    ¡°I miss my boy,¡± He said gently.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Eighty-One â€“ Gotta Have Faith

    Tonight¡¯s moon sat at nearly full and hung high above. The sun had gone down long ago. Continue Online¡¯s time compression screwed me up, but the in-game clock showed slightly after midnight.

    ¡°Just a little further, I see lights ahead.¡± I helped Wyl limp along. Part of me desperately hoped it was the journey and not my lack of first aid skills. His leg actually looked worse after my attempted bandaging but we had also traveled miles to the west.

    Dusk chirped once ahead of us. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had single-handedly bathed three wolves and sixteen bats in flames. Wyl raised an eyebrow at the path of dead smaller beasts but otherwise said little.

    ¡°Come on,¡± I said as Wyl groaned. Jostling him around might not be helpful ¡°I didn¡¯t drag you six miles to have you die now.¡±

    The exact total probably reached double that. I had carried Wyl in my arms like a four-year-old until the guard captain woke up and demanded to be let down. Emasculation wasn¡¯t allowed, but it meant he was alive enough to care.

    I really only cared about getting help. That Voice, Balance, had told me that Mother¡¯s plan would be based on our natures. Mine said help friends and find Xin. Wyl was Carver¡¯s friend and had been mine for nearly four weeks.

    ¡°Almost there.¡±

    The endless reassurances felt hollow. Wyl¡¯s attitude felt indifferent towards eventual death. It was an air I knew, which made me dread getting back to [Haven Valley]. We still had thousands of miles to traverse and doing it by foot with him limping would be unmanageable.

    My [Messenger¡¯s Pet] chirped once more. There was a blast of fire accompanied by vines rustling in retreat. The screeches of evil nasty little bats with hook hands faded as the critter destroying creature moved around. Dusk¡¯s presence was enough to scare away all creatures smaller.

    There was a swath of waist high grass between us and the building. There were a few faint lights on inside the large steeple topped structure. People must be home. I huffed and tried to ping with [Sight of Mercari] and came up with a nameless dot.

    Nameless dots worried me. The blue color implied indifference which was positive. Dusk wouldn¡¯t lead us towards a trap in most situations.

    ¡°Come on. A few more steps. There¡¯s gotta be something in here to help.¡± I said.

    The building was two stories and at least fifteen hundred square feet. There were multiple tiny shacks all about but most looked like places to bed down. I could see the edge of a livestock area too. This biggest building had to be a town hall to the abandoned village.

    Wyl¡¯s right leg hung limply as we walked the last mile. Color had left most of the guard¡¯s body. I got to the door and bumped into it with my back. Only one person was inside and I didn¡¯t have time to knock. The doors opened then slammed into walls.

    ¡°I need help!¡± I hadn¡¯t meant to shout. Wyl worked his legs unevenly the last few feet to a resting point.

    I made sure he would stay upright then looked around with my mouth hanging wide open. The inside was filled with church pews. Pillars held up a high ceiling. There was an overhead walkway on one side which led to a slanted window in the roof. Water leaked through the ceiling¡¯s opening into a bucket.

    Dusk loped by like a giant bunny off towards adventure. The sound of his paws stomping around mixed in with the dripping and Wyl¡¯s labored breathing.

    ¡°Voices, tell me there¡¯s something to heal with in here,¡± I muttered while walking up to the other church goer. ¡°Dusk! Don¡¯t eat anything that can help Wyl!¡±

    An excited sort of noise came out from between rows of seats. He looked to be headed towards the one room in this place.

    ¡°Excuse me, sir. Is there anything here that can help my friend?¡± Heavy panting made it difficult to talk. My legs felt like burning lead and there were multiple status icons explaining how worn out this avatar was.

    ¡°Help is all around, Messenger.¡± The person said. His voice sounded oddly calm and drowsy.

    My eyes tried not to roll. Exhaustion and irritation made politeness difficult. I pulled through with years of experience. I managed to stagger up to his body and sit across the small aisle.

    ¡°Please, do you have anything that can heal a body? He¡¯s in bad shape, and I want to help him get home.¡±

    ¡°In the end, death returns us all home.¡± The man said after another long pause. His eyes closed and hands clasped together. Forearms rested on legs with thin knees. Both shoulders tried to stay held back but were failing.

    He looked sad and tired. The clothes were oddly out of place in Continue Online. The black clothes with a white color would have been at home in a real church, not a video game one. I tried not to sigh. This man even had a hat sitting next to him that could have belonged to a bishop on television.

    ¡°Have we met?¡± I squinted in confusion. [Identification] slowly came into view and all I got was a message.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Name:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Michelangelo</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Race:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Voice</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Title:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Voice of Faith and Sanctuary</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Details:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[???]</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°You¡¯re a Voice.¡± I backed up a step while trying to remember if this one had ever interacted with me. The name didn¡¯t sound familiar. Any Voice with such a long name would have easily been in my brain. He didn¡¯t look like a Michelangelo.

    ¡°We are all Voices, Hermes.¡± The Voice of Faith and Sanctuary said.

    That didn¡¯t help me at all. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°You are born with a Voice, as was I. As were both your companions though they may express themselves differently.¡±

    That sounded like a long series of platitudes that didn¡¯t help me right now. I took a breath and rocked back to my feet. Eyes cast about looking for anything that might heal. Potions or bandages that weren¡¯t dirty. Aloe or a fantasy version of it would be welcome as well. Anything to help Wyl. Maybe I could tear up part of his clothing. I could go topless myself and make a toga bandage.

    There was nothing behind me or up on the pulpit. I looked in drawers and behind tables. Most things were empty. A few books were scattered around. Flipping through revealed nothing of immediate use. The luxury to read was not mine to have this week.

    I turned back to the Voice and tilted my head briefly. ¡°You aren¡¯t the Voice of Healing or anything close, are you?¡±

    There was a pause while the man¡¯s hands trembled just a bit. He brought them together and looked up towards the ceiling then closed both eyes. I wasn¡¯t sure who Voices prayed to.

    Thankfully Wyl was fading in and out. I couldn¡¯t imagine the blasphemy he might consider a Voice sitting down here would bring. To me it felt like visiting a cousin I didn¡¯t know about yet. This man hadn¡¯t tried to throw me out into a reckless skydive while choking me, or suggested I kill a man, so we were off to a good start.

    ¡°I am what I am, Hermes. As are you, as are we all.¡± He answered after a long pause.

    I turned over another pile of books along with each chair. No one had left anything. Maybe the room Dusk was in had something.

    ¡°Dusk! Did you find anything?¡± I shouted back to him.

    A frowning face popped up with its tail pointing towards the doorway. I took that to be a no based on the emoticon and Dusk¡¯s grumble of discontentment.

    ¡°I meant something to help Wyl!¡± My clarification came after realizing Dusk might be searching for snacks. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] got distracted frequently.

    Another frowning face showed up with a double sized huff. Things were nosed out into the doorway. I went back to Wyl and checked on him. He pushed me away and kept taking slow labored breathes.

    I tried to calmly walk back to the Voice but ended up shuffling. ¡°My friend, one of your people, could really use help. Is there anything you can do?¡±

    Michelangelo put his hands back down to their resting spot and kept both eyes forward. The Voice looked to be trying to connect with a higher power after every question.

    My cheek twitched in thought. Teeth wrapped around the lower lip and chewed. I couldn¡¯t tell if there would be anything gained from him at all.

    ¡°Where there is a will, there is a way.¡± He finally uttered the latest unhelpful line.

    ¡°I want to help him, is there a way?¡± I opted to be direct. If people asked me questions then I answered them. Those lost in their own woes I attempted to help. Each step forward was one closer to Xin, but leaving behind Wyl to die would have been a betrayal of all I had done.

    Even if he was William Carver¡¯s friend, and not really mine, I owed him and liked the man I had known.

    ¡°You were right with your faith, Messenger,¡± He said. ¡°There was a plan. It flowed forth right under our noses until James attracted our attention.¡±

    ¡°What plan? It¡¯s only been a few days, you guys looked lost.¡± I don¡¯t think it had been more than two days of game time since my return. Time passed in weird clumps with the ARC. Both eyes drifted to the hole in this building''s roof to check for moonlight.

    ¡°We do not see time the same, Messenger.¡± Michelangelo put his hands down and grabbed the hat. He smiled softly but nothing reached the man¡¯s cheeks. ¡°There is a plan. She moves in mysterious ways, but we¡¯ve caught edges of the patterns from our seats upon high.¡±

    My eyes blinked and head shook in confusion. What in [Arcadia] was he talking about? I felt insanely out of the loop. Being trapped in that dungeon, kicked out of the game for two weeks, and restricted from any system tell messages from this stupid [Convicts Brand] were limiting me.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I asked.

    ¡°An exodus has begun. A march towards the ocean, our Mayflower.¡± His smiled faded for a moment then came back.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re saying.¡±

    ¡°In your reality, there is a river, the mighty Mississippi.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded and felt annoyed at the same time. Wyl looked terrible. Being sacrilegious wasn¡¯t in my nature but desperation could make sinners of saints. I turned the pews upside down trying to shake out anything that might heal.

    If this was a house of the Voices, then there had to be something to help people here. There just had to be. Four rows later and I was still coming up empty.

    ¡°And like that stream all Mother¡¯s creations shall join together and travel down the mighty river, until we reach the ocean.¡± The Voice continued speaking after a long pause.

    There was a tapping noise again beneath my feet. I looked down at the floor of Continue Online and wondered exactly what the heck it meant. Roughly once every hour the two thuds would occur. The noise hadn¡¯t started until returning to the ARC from my mom''s.

    He turned his head and stared directly into my eyes. There was a depth there that startled me as if I were looking at something buried deep under a whirlpool of blues. ¡°You can hear it, can¡¯t you?¡± The Voice asked.

    ¡°Yes.¡± No one else had heard the damned knocking so far.

    ¡°To expand upon my prior analogy, those knocks are from a force seeking to destroy our river.¡±

    ¡°What!?¡± My heartbeat jumped. Why could I hear them?

    ¡°Shortly, this place will be consumed by the deathblow that struck our maker. The essence of its attack upon her systems will materialize and proceed to engulf all it can.¡± The Voice said calmly. ¡°Then you¡¯ll have to flee like a fish to another portion of the river, or be lost in a void.¡±

    ¡°Is that what happened to King Nero¡¯s palace?¡± I tried to keep up and understand the extent of our possible damage. There were a million other questions to ask but scope of potential damage had to be first.

    Beth wasn¡¯t here, but from her general amazement at the situation, the hole left and monster which emerged had to be huge. Wyl and I needed to start limping now.

    ¡°Yes.¡± The Voice answered with an uncharacteristic forwardness.

    ¡°Wyl!¡± I shouted at the man and quickly ran over. ¡°We¡¯ve got to go!¡±

    ¡°No can do, soldier.¡± He groggily uttered.

    ¡°Can you help?!¡± I shouted back at the Voice who stayed kneeling in front of his altar.

    His head shook slightly from side to side. ¡°All our power is being diverted to the cause. Balance likewise prevents active interference.¡±

    ¡°So you can talk, but you can¡¯t actually do anything to help one of your people?!¡± I yelled while feeling upset with the Voices once more. Their rules seemed inconsistent at times.

    ¡°We are not Gods. We are not perfect. We are not all knowing or all powerful. We have faith.¡± The Voice stood up and walked over. His serene expression didn¡¯t change at all. For a moment, I was reminded of Aqua, the blue [Mechanoid] that had traveled with me for a while.

    I had no clue how they viewed the world. Was I talked to the entire Voice or only ten percent of its processing power? Were they like Hal Pal¡¯s consortium? An army of small clones unto themselves who went about different processes?

    ¡°I have met you before, haven¡¯t I?¡± I asked on a hunch.

    Michelangelo only smiled and I was reminded once more of Aqua¡¯s serene way of approaching everything. That robot had been neither male or female, but this Voice definitely looked like a man. Leeroy had been Iron, Selene was Ruby. Who were the others?

    There was so much I didn¡¯t know, and there wouldn¡¯t be time to ask questions.

    ¡°You must go, Messenger. I can no longer guarantee the safety of this sanctuary.¡± He said while trying hard to smile. His words sounded strained and everything started to rumble.

    My head shook for a moment and feet backed up. There was a knocking sound again. The earth bulged into the wooden floor below. Cracks started to form. Eyes widened as I continued backward.

    ¡°Dusk! Let¡¯s go!¡± My breath came in quick huffs. ¡°Will you be okay?¡± I asked the Voice while getting my shoulder back under Wyl. The guard grunted and nearly drowned out the Voice¡¯s response.

    A single knock sound vibrated the walls. The second one came rapidly after and the hole in the floor started to open up. I started dragging Wyl to the door, masculinity be damned. The knocks were coming faster. A third one hit then the walls started to crumble.

    ¡°Eventually, Messenger.¡± His magnified words were clear. The beautific smile seemed so lost and sad. ¡°Because I have faith it will all work out.¡±

    There he stood unmoving amid the rubble of a falling building. I didn¡¯t have his faith. Running was impossible with Wyl¡¯s dead weight. The door was close enough to stumble through. Dusk bounded past like a startled cat with nails scrabbling for purchase on the building''s wooden floor.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening, sergeant?¡± Wyl mumbled.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got to escape,¡± I answered.

    Choices were limited. I picked up Wyl. Air exited his lungs with an oof noise. My eyes closed and I prayed this wouldn¡¯t go wrong. Then I threw him, relying on excessive [Brawn] and faith. His arc peaked rapidly around thirty feet before descending again.

    Flooring gave way beneath me. I looked upwards then [Blink]ed into Wyl¡¯s path. Disorientation hit hard and the guard¡¯s body slammed into mine. Wyl and I tumbled backward in the high grass.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] landed with a skid of nails. His body flipped in a circle and wings wiggled urgently. The odd chat bubble he used flashed above his head with a lightbulb and exclamation mark. Dusk had a small container in his teeth. Small lips were awkwardly curled around its top. Red liquid dripped from a small crack in the vial. My eyes narrowed on it as the ground behind us continued to fall inward forming a widening circle.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Skill Used:</td>

    <td colspan="3">[Identification]</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Result:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Healing Potion</td>

    </tr>

    <tr>

    <td width="25%">Quality:</td>

    <td colspan="3">Decent</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Dusk, you clever little guy! ARC, order cupcakes quick!¡± I gasped then grabbed at the prize. Finally, we had a means to heal with. My hands managed to stay steady despite the crumbling world behind us.

    ¡°Ordering one care package, User Legate.¡± The machine answered while I moved on.

    Dusk hopped up and down in joy as rocks continued to tumble into the hole. Feet kicked away but the rate of destruction had slowed. I trembled for only a moment before looking around for an escape.

    Wyl¡¯s body sat nearby. He kept trying to get upright but neither arm supported his weight. I sat the man up promptly then winced when he groaned from fresh pain.

    ¡°Health potion.¡± I huffed feeling my own damages. ¡°Drink, then we¡¯ve got to run.¡±

    He blinked slowly, which I assumed meant yes. Down went red liquid into Wyl¡¯s mouth. The guard¡¯s face regained color. It wouldn¡¯t heal him perfectly, but it beat starving and dying from wounds suffered from player and monster inflicted damage.

    Dusk stopped celebrating abruptly and nervously backed up. I snapped my head towards the hole. There was no time to wait for Wyl¡¯s recovery. Something big was rumbling the dirt. The was the third time a large creature seemed to be crawling up from the ground. I could hear a groan from Wyl and Dusk¡¯s panicked hisses. Warning sounds escalated rapidly until the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was almost stuttering.

    ¡°Come on, Wyl,¡± I said.

    My pseudodragon friend hissed at the hole again then turned towards me. His cheeks were twisted back and shoulders hunched together. The oncoming danger scared him, and Dusk hadn¡¯t shown any level of worry over [Charge] the giant [Heavenly Body Clone] or [Leviathan] the monstrous space worm from Advance.

    ¡°I know! We¡¯re going.¡± I said while lifting up Wyl again.

    The guard¡¯s face winced but at a glance, he looked better.

    ¡°We can¡¯t wait for it. Run, come on, Wyl, run.¡± We hobbled forth together. Wyl had more power but still couldn¡¯t run. My side hurt from the tumble catching him. I risked looking over my shoulder to watch as a huge form swelled up from the hole. The being spread both arms wide to welcome the air.

    Part of me paused for a moment and groaned at the idea of another giant boss monster. Then I remembered this wasn¡¯t a game mechanic. According to the Voice this hole in the ground was some vague representation of Mother¡¯s slow destruction. Defeat meant deletion.

    The idea panicked me. I had no clue what else had happened at Nero¡¯s Castle. Beth¡¯s explanation had been cut off by an abrupt change in creatures. This thing, whatever it was, had huge arms and broad shoulders. It looked like a man made of shadow and a dozen stories tall.

    It reached out and my mind tried to associate the noise. It was like a waterfall, or great river, or the sound of a tree falling with no one around to hear it. I looked to the left. A large hand smashed trees next to us. It drew back the bits of nature into a pit around its waist and they fell downward.

    The other arm dropped on the right then pulled back more landscape. Wolves yipped and were caught in the mess. Vines rustled around its fingers and tried to fight. [Sonic Screecher]s flew and harassed it. This, thing, was trying to clean us up, like a collisional adult putting away children''s toys.

    I felt like the damage would only grow. Each scoop of debris seemed to increase the being''s mass a little. It was growing large and the edges of the hole widening.

    ¡°I have to stop it,¡± I said.

    ¡°If we¡¯re to die, I plan to die fighting,¡± Wyl said without a smile.

    The guard pushed away from me and took [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in a smooth disarming move. I felt confused when the weapon responded and shifted to a simple sword. Lending him the blade was fine. William Carver had given it to me, I¡¯m sure the old man would have approved.

    But Wyl couldn¡¯t die here. I missed the guard who had always been jovial, friendly and willing to help any new player that was sent his way. Wyl needed to live through this and return to doing a job he so clearly loved.

    My arms grabbed the guard and he brought [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] up towards my face. I ignored it and pushed him back down the path away from our giant beast. It seemed intent upon destroying everything nearby based on size order. A hand slammed down and grabbed another round of trees.

    ¡°No!¡± I yelled at Wyl. The memory of all those deceased [Mechanoid]s flashed through my mind. ¡°I can die for you, but you can¡¯t die for me.¡±

    ¡°Dusk, you watch him, I¡¯ll, I¡¯ll try to catch up again,¡± I said while shoving the [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. Worry made me a bit more forceful than intended. His body was still far smaller than mine, and between our character status screens, Dusk was clearly far lower on [Brawn]. ¡°Sorry, just, go. Please. For me it¡¯s only a little bit of pain, for you, it¡¯s worse. Let me bear this.¡±

    ¡°And the blade?¡± He held it up.

    ¡°Use it, stay safe.¡± The man had my blessings for all his help.

    ¡°No, you¡¯ll need everything to get ahead. I¡¯ve got the one I stole from that bounty hunter.¡± Another hand smashed down and buildings could be heard being scrapped into the pit. ¡°You know what¡¯s strange, convict,¡± Wyl said while looking at the weapon which had been returned to my hand. He was healed but still looked ragged. All that shiny armor had been torn off in places days ago by other prisoners.

    My eyes closed and I tried to figure out ways to get them moving. I gave in and shook my head back and forth.

    The guard captain kept speaking. ¡°You sounded just like Will. He couldn¡¯t stand to see us Locals risk a life either.¡±

    ¡°Please go.¡± I squeezed my eyes shut. The sound of a huge beast behind me grew in vibration.

    Wyl nodded once then started to move onward towards the west. Dusk looked at me. A puzzled question mark above his head. I shook my head and made a shooing motion. ¡°Keep him safe for me. You leave this big guy to me.¡±

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] chirped once and lowered his head. I shooed him again and Dusk turned to run away. Another monstrous arm slammed down nearby, pulling in more trees.

    I turned to face the looming beast. A foggy human stood at least fifty feet higher than it had. Tall enough to single-handedly wreck a town in reality. Tall enough to wrestle down a dragon. The feet hadn¡¯t even cleared its pit of nothingness.

    It had no eyes or mouth yet I could tell it looked at me. My body shook and messages came up about resisting the urge to become [Soiled]. A plan of attack couldn¡¯t be formulated. This beast was an end game boss of sorts, by all the meanings.

    I nodded and lifted the blade [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] up. Feet cranked at high speeds. [Light Body]¡¯s bonuses made me fast. Months of traveling around the globe gave me [Endurance]. And Lia, Shazam, she had given me and my autopilot the skills to carry on.

    Possibilities flashed through in how to combat such a beast. I couldn¡¯t risk the extra weight and limited vision of [Power Armor]. [Camouflage] wouldn¡¯t work. [Wild Bill] stayed on my head during combat with a blessing that only a virtual world might allow.

    There was nothing to do but charge in. Both eyes closed for a moment to steady myself. A song impossible to place hummed out and my head bobbed three times with the beat. On the fourth note, I ran. My face lit up with the rush of energy. [Blade Dancer] popped up a message about my weapon damage increasing. [Battle Hum] hit later citing an increase in musical synergy.

    In my mind, the image of Lia flashed briefly, not her real life form trapped in a bed, but the avatar where she marched forth. What would Shazam think of the world falling apart? Perhaps it was best she passed as number one before this issue with Mother and the potential death of all digital AIs ever became an issue. But by the Voices, even she would have enjoyed this fight just a little.

    The man of fog moved speedily. His arm swung leveling tiny shacks and forest trees. [Sonic Screecher]s took to the air. Wolves of all sorts howled in the distance. [Awareness Heightening] kicked in and I twisted to one side in a roll.

    Both hands grasped around the blade and swung it at the arm which passed overhead. Even with my mind comprehending things at double the speed this creature moved freakishly fast.

    The blade scraped across hardened skin as if I were using a butter knife against a pot. Sparks flew off and small bits of what had to be skin burned up. It roared and multiple system messages displayed.

    I kept fighting. It wasn¡¯t that my skills as a supreme warrior were on top. My only real possessions were these Voice gifted abilities, items with random powers, inflated stats, and excessive hours of moving my body in the ARC with a dance program.

    The beast''s sweeping hand grasped at more dirt. Huge fingers curled inward then yanked. It even dared to pull [Arcadia]¡¯s earth into the abyss which spawned such a terror.

    My face drained of color watching it all happen in slow motion. I ran forth with my weapon held to one side and leapt off the crumbled ground''s edge. An uncharacteristic roar of denial escaped my lungs.

    It was destroying my world. This stupid mindless thing had only the purpose of removing a land I had traveled and felt alive in for the first time in forever. It couldn¡¯t be allowed.

    My blade dug into its chest and I slipped downward. Below me there was a pit that went even deeper than the one [Charge] crawled out of. Falling in there would be certain doom, failure to stop the monster. Everything.

    ¡°No!¡± I said in slow motion. One hand reached for [Morrigu¡¯s Echo]. I would climb this damned thing all the way to its eyes and gouge them out. Anything needed to prevent it from swallowing more of [Arcadia].

    One of the monster''s hands slammed over me. A broken message appeared in the darkness resulting. My eyes couldn¡¯t find a path out. It was just too big for the likes of me to defeat alone.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    W5at¡¯s ha0pe^ng Herm&s? Be car$%%ul!

    Total Health Remaining: 75%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I waved it away, kicked at the creature¡¯s palm with my heel and risked activating [Gait of Bowmen]¡¯s specific effect. Armor clinked together as the creature tried to squeeze me tightly. My body screamed in fresh pain and felt like a grape about to pop. Pressure hit me behind the eyes and my mouth tried to swallow down upchucking guts. Even through the armor, this thing was far stronger than [Charge] had been.

    It opened the hand slightly. A giant face loomed in front of me. I wasted no time throwing [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] into its eyeball. It reeled back with a yell. My body went flying in the air. [Power Armor] was promptly turned off while Continue Online still moved in slow motion. I cast [Blink] again and ended up on the towering shadow man''s hand.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] was [Recall]ed once more. Its durability was down to half. I tried to run up the creature¡¯s arm but the beast started shaking. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] jabbed downward in a long icepick formation. A singular sharpened point functioned far better at piercing its hide. The creature shook and I held on. These motions were nothing to a man trained to ride [Callibur]s.

    My body felt minuscule next to the shadow monster. I had faced larger beasts and come out alive. This thing paled in comparison to the [Leviathan]. It lacked the relentless bloodthirsty aura of Auntie Backstab. Nothing it could do would deter me from whittling away at its essence.

    The bucking arm stopped and I quickly got upright. Time stayed slow as I started running up it¡¯s limb. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] drug behind me causing more cuts and scratches. My enemy started to pull its head back as I ran up the arm. Another hand lifted over to swat me like a bug. I [Blink]ed again. My new location was a few feet above its collar bone. I slashed across with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. Smoke burned away at the contact.

    It roared and I hacked again. The hand shifted then caught me. Giant fingers pinched at my toga. [Blink] wasn¡¯t off its cooldown yet. Everything existed in slow motion while [Awareness Heightening] allowed me to look around for an escape.

    ¡°Holy shit, that¡¯s awesome!¡± Someone shouted. It was followed immediately by another person screaming out.

    ¡°Uncle Grant!¡± My niece¡¯s sharp tone rang through.

    Breath came in labored gasps. Thank the Voices, I wasn¡¯t alone in this world. The beast came to a conclusion regarding fighting me and tossed me high into the air rather than try to squish me again.

    The wind whistled slowly around my head. My body held straight and I [Recall]ed [Morrigu¡¯s Echo].

    Gravity pulled me downward once more. I accepted its call and gasped for a breath of air. [Awareness Heightening] allowed me a measure of calmness amid chaos. In my hands sat the gift William Carver had passed to me during his last seconds. It expanded to the absurdly large two-handed sword and pointed downward like a meteor.

    This was the Uncle Grant my niece deserved to see. Happy and defiant against all insane odds. Elated at the thrill of meaningful combat. Not a sad lost man who couldn¡¯t look people in the eyes.

    I was better dammit. I finally felt like a fucking hero.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Eighty-Two - I be So Glad

    My body was unstable and there were no [Red Imp] wings to right me. [Awareness Heightening] gave me a slow motion view of the world spinning below. As I fell downwards with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] ready, I wondered how insane this would look to anyone who didn¡¯t play the game.

    There were times I worried these events were a dream. Was I just lying in the ARC having some fantasy where everything wrong in my life was slowly being fixed? A broken man like me going from previously suicidal with a dead fianc¨¦e and unborn child to Hermes felt that unreal.

    Regardless, I felt alive. This place was more than computer code being pumped through my senses. My mind stopped wondering about sanity and focused on fighting.

    Below me the giant screamed in slow motion. Beth¡¯s sword slashed through air creating glowing streaks. Her form stood out brightly as I hit the creature¡¯s body. Pain rippled up my legs and certainly felt real.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] dug into its chest and I slipped downward. The beast screamed and reeled back. [Awareness Heightening] once again showed it¡¯s broken properties because I had enough time to calmly stand up on its nearly vertical body. Both feet gained purchase. Side effects of prolonged usage would include nausea, vomiting and possible loss of consciousness. This monster would die first. I intended to give everything I had to ensure that.

    ¡°Keep hitting it!¡± I shouted. The beast didn¡¯t bleed, but it burned away in chunks. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] pulled out of flesh with a searing flash of light. Dark flakes of shadow skin flew around like confetti in a parade, flaring up as they vanished like flaming paper.

    The beast started to right itself. [Blink] was off cooldown. I grabbed my other weapon in a slow motion hustle then leapt backward with its sway. My body hung in the air before [Blink] put me behind the shadow man¡¯s head. My giant enemy had no real brains and only a basic aggressive pattern. Given a Rank, this beast would be fifteen at most. Even then only because of its size and insane health, supposing such a monster could even be killed.

    Inertia carried me into its neck where I jabbed down both weapons. In real time, none of this would have been possible. I couldn¡¯t fight giant monsters based on pure reactions. Not over a giant pit of endless abyss that represented a hole in the virtual world of Continue Online. But Hermes, the man I laid in the ARC dreaming about being certainly had the abilities.

    Both blades dug in. I alternated stabbing them rapidly as a pound pulsing filled both ears. [Awareness Heightening] was starting to take its toll. My chest hurt a little. I had to pray that we could drive it back before the creature got bigger.

    Wait, it was smaller now, wasn¡¯t it? Beth¡¯s balls of multicolored energy were zipping around. Three swam together and formed a spinning bolt that cut through the air. A rainbow of colors splashed off the beast''s side and more embers of burning shadow flesh fluttered away.

    The creature was losing size. The pit beneath me seemed bottomless and I couldn¡¯t tell where the legs actually were. I stabbed again while screaming in frustration.

    ¡°Hit it with the biggest spell you¡¯ve got!¡± Awesome Jr. shouted.

    ¡°Casting! Fifteen seconds left!¡± My niece responded with an equal level of excitement. The two of them sounded like this was a roller coaster of epic proportions while I was fighting against something that might destroy the world.

    Did they really not know? Of course they wouldn¡¯t. They couldn¡¯t be aware yet that Miz Riley had somehow killed Mother and the world would be crashing because of it. My gut clenched again as I reared back to stab at the large man¡¯s neck.

    ¡°You can use that sword to cast!? That¡¯s so-¡° His words were drowned out as my eardrums were boxed. The other huge hand slammed into me like I was a bug biting its neck. My teeth slammed into the giant man¡¯s surprisingly solid neck. [Awareness Heightening] faded with a jarring sensation.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Error Diminishing!

    We¡¯ve determined Hermes is a potential pancake!

    Total Health Remaining: 40%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The world abruptly went sideways as a giant hand tried to slide me off. My body flew through the air as if I had been unwelcome bird shit to be slung away in disgust. The pit''s edge came up quickly and I only had enough sanity to put both weapons into my player inventory storage so they wouldn¡¯t be dropped.

    My side slammed into the wall. One arm went numb. The other fingers scrambled for a handhold. Rock around me crumbled into the pit below. My feet kicked at the edge in panic. How far down did I have to fall before being subject to possible deletion?

    I lost the hold and started to fall. The world was moving too fast now. [Blink] activated and put me midair where I fell into the ground again. Fresh pain reported in from my face and feet. Toes ached and my ankle refused to stand. I needed more skills, heals, or a regeneration ability.

    Light went off on one side of the pit. Beth stood in front of a set of six cut circles. Her face dripped in sweat. The large creature was rearing back an arm to hit the young woman. I scrambled to stand up but the recently damaged leg gave out. My mind''s desire to override ARC signals and stand anyway met with failure.

    [Blink] had four seconds left. The creature''s arm moved fast. Awesome Jr. threw one of his weird concoctions and a pile of green goo expanded into the air like a slimy airbag. Its swinging limb slowed to a brief stop. It jerked once, then twice. The mess of materials Awesome had released was going to fail.

    I took a breath, pulled out [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] then [Blink]ed again. My body tumbled into its new position. Everything ached but there was no choice other than to grit my teeth and bare it.

    Beth¡¯s face looked haggard. Casting those spells must have taken a lot of energy out of her. Otherwise her health was fine. I refused to let the arm hit her, though. The idea of this former little girl being in pain on my watch washed away some of the pain.

    Dusk¡¯s gift came in two forms. One required me softly catching a ball of flame that came out of my mouth. The other made me feel like a comical virtual dragon shooting fireballs out. Maybe in Advance Online I could have stuck to the Gatling Laser. I looked at the shaking hand and wondered how the beast was so stupid it couldn¡¯t figure out how to use its other arm.

    Maybe destruction programs weren¡¯t required to have intelligence. It didn¡¯t look like the sort of being that might suddenly drop everything and wonder why there was a need to delete. Plus, we had no luxury to wait for an existential crisis.

    The man¡¯s face pointed straight at Beth. There was no doubt that it would go straight through me and slam into her. What other tools did I have to stop that blow? I could have taken [Wings of The Messenger] and flown around to distract it, but no, I had a few other hopes.

    A shuddering breath passed through while trying to ignore the ARC¡¯s feedback of pain. My throat swallowed then bulged weirdly as [Breath of Flame] activated. Without my hand to catch it the ball of fire shot out much like Dusk¡¯s did. Fire pelted into the shadow creature¡¯s face while Beth made three more slashes behind me.

    ¡°Awesome!¡±

    Its head stayed locked on Beth. I took another slow breath and another ball of fire seared a path outward. I swallowed afterward and it felt like I hadn¡¯t had any water in days.

    ¡°Awesome! I love this game!¡± The young male declared again. Another potion crashed into the arm and weird yellow looking lightning caused the monster¡¯s arm to jerk uncontrollably. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long these stuns will hold!¡±

    One more ball of fire went out before I had nothing left. Messages came up citing [Hoarse] and [Winded]. Dusk cranked these things ceaselessly out and a few left me gasping.

    ¡°Got it!¡± Beth shouted as lights brightened up the night. Six total circles had been cut into the sky. Each one mixed together her green, light blue and scarlet spell schools.

    The arm shook loose of goo and continued a path straight towards my niece. I slammed a foot down and activated [Power Armor] once more. My robe flowed and joined together with my hat. The clinks of metal swam over my arms and legs. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] pulled out in its two-handed form. I flipped it sideways and braced for impact as the impossibly huge arm slammed into my body.

    ¡°I¡¯m out!¡± Awesome Jr. shouted.

    This damned monster was trying to close line me like I was some toddler in its way. Boots dug into the ground. Jarring rippled every portion of my damaged body. My ankle threatened to buckle. This stupid health bar started dropping rapidly for every second I strained to lean against the arm''s force.

    ¡°Beth!¡± I almost screamed coherently between clenched teeth.

    ¡°It¡¯s going!¡± She shouted.

    I heard a sharpening hum. Light flared and the creature gave one more roar. The pressure on my arms fell away and I stumbled. My body turned just enough to see the creature¡¯s chest with large holes poking through.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Barricade] sustained for ten seconds against a creature over 8000% larger</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Barricade] Rank 5 or higher</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Skill added; [Immovable Object] </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I fell forward into the messages. They shattered through my visor and vanished into a splash of light. The armor slowly slid away and someone started running over. Their footsteps were drowned out by my beating heart.

    The beast was sinking into its pit while groaning out loud. A hand sat there curled in a claw of protest as the sinking continued. Finally, no part of the beast of shadows remained. A bottle was being shoved into my face to drink. My eyes were locked on the pit where our attacker''s entry into the world refused to close up. It sat there like an ugly scar on the land of [Arcadia]. A notice that even if we fought our actions would do nothing more than stave off eventual destruction.

    ¡°Drink this, Hermes. It¡¯ll help.¡± The young man said.

    Cool liquid soothed my throat as it went down. Awesome Jr. was cradling my head and trying to lift me up. My head throbbed and everything hurt. His potion filled part of my health bar and one or two pains went away. I still felt dizzy and nothing was in focus.

    The thought occurred to me again. These small abyssal holes wouldn¡¯t close up.

    ¡°I think that¡¯s the biggest thing I¡¯ve ever fought.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve fought bigger.¡± I thought of the eyeball on that [Leviathan]. It had been absolutely insane in size. Putting our recent combat into perspective helped me move easier. Some of the fog lifted from my head. It might have been Awesome Jr.¡¯s potion.

    ¡°How did you get here so fast?¡± My breath was running short. One foot shuffled in front of the other as I looked over the edge. Part of me was terrified a grasping hand would come up in some sort of overtime boss fight, but nothing happened. Only black emptiness existed down there.

    I took a breath as another scary thought occurred to me. Was that pit which had tried to swallow us all part of the fear that King Nero had before? He spoke of a black abyss of sorts. Did he mean deletion? Or did the Voices bring him back with a healthy fear of what may come? Deletion would be death to a digital creature.

    ¡°There¡¯s a trail of destruction through the woods, plus nothing tried to stop me. I picked off a few of the wolves for easy skills.¡± Beth said.

    My head slowly turned around to see my niece. She wore a proud look. I smiled weakly and kept huffing.

    ¡°That was some spell.¡± I tried to give credit where it was due. ¡°And those potions helped.¡± My hand turned to a weak thumbs up for the young man.

    ¡°Yeah! Wow, I wish I could learn real magic. That would be awesome. Or that sword, or those movement things. I¡¯m jealous. You¡¯re even better with them than last time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve had some practice since then. But how did you even get here?¡± I stared at the other man.

    ¡°I found her. I and the others split up, you remember them right? SweetPea, HotPants¡±

    ¡°And Shadow.¡± I nodded. James had mentioned there were a ton of players named Shadow around this world.

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s awesome.¡± He muttered. A second later he flinched and looked behind him, but no one was there. The movement made me laugh, he probably expected HotPants to bonk him on the head. Part of me expected it too after seeing that very scene multiple times.

    ¡°Convict, are you alive!?¡± A rougher sounding male shouted further away.

    ¡°It¡¯s Hermes!¡± I put one hand high into the air and waved it back and forth. Wyl and I needed to have a serious talk. We all did, about this event with the pit and what roles we had all been assigned. ¡°We¡¯re all clear!¡±

    Wyl walked slowly in our direction, and the three of us met him halfway. He stared at the ground in wonder while shaking his head. Around us, the formerly lush forest was missing huge swaths of trees. Roots were left behind in clumps and dirt had almost been sheared off at a completely flat angle.

    ¡°Someone needs to tell me what happened.¡±

    ¡°A giant monster.¡± Awesome Jr. leapt into the conversation. ¡°Hermes here was fighting it, I haven¡¯t seen anyone take that kind of damage in a long time.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. That last blow, I thought for sure we were fucked.¡± Beth said with a briefly confusing curse word. I raised an eyebrow at her and my niece managed to look down and blush slightly.

    ¡°I know some of it, but anything I share will sound insane, and we need to get somewhere safe.¡± My head tilted and eyes scanned around. There was no knocking or other signs of wildlife.

    ¡°Does this have to do with Auntie?¡± Beth asked from behind me. Her face pinched a bit around the eyes.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    I tried to smile for her. It felt fake but the system gave me a notice about my [Acting] skills kicking in. Maybe that¡¯s how I got them in the first place, by being good at pretending everything was alright.

    ¡°You¡¯re hiding something,¡± Beth said. ¡°I can tell.¡±

    ¡°Now¡¯s not really the time, and we¡¯ve got a long road ahead of us.¡±

    Both the teens tried to get information out of me after that. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to answer. That fight had been hell and everything ached. Their constant stream of questions were ignored and eventually they started talking among themselves about their characters.

    Wyl walked along slowly parallel to me. His eyes kept turning towards the other two and his face would scrunch up. Each time the sickening feeling in my gut grew. I tried to distract myself with thoughts of Xin and ways to grow as a player.

    What would I do if we fought one of those monsters together? Would she have the strength to combat them on her character? Could we escape anywhere safely if those things were following me? That knocking sound sure had stayed centered nearby the entire time.

    Hours later and Wyl stopped walking as fast. Awesome Jr. said we should make a camp and I couldn¡¯t bring myself to argue. It was late in the night back in reality. Beth should have been asleep but she had pushed through. Wyl couldn¡¯t last much longer.

    Dusk was the only one who seemed to have boundless energy. He winged around a few more laps even once we stopped to make camp. I set about the fire while Beth pulled out food. At some point, I ended up sitting down while staring at a small but warm fire. Crumbs from a sandwich sat in my hand.

    Wyl sat off to one side and started sharpening a sword. I thought it was the same one he had stolen from a player back at the [Abyss of Light]. He seemed to be very skilled at disarming people and stealing their weapons.

    ¡°Here, let me do that.¡± The younger man said to Wyl. ¡°I take care of the weapons and armor for my group, so I¡¯ve got a lot of practice.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your skill at?¡± Thorny asked over the soft grinding noise.

    Wyl chose not to respond and handed the sword over. The young teen and his ugly green cloak sat there calmly inspecting the blade for nicks. He lifted it to eye level, one hand on the hilt as the blade rested across the back of his arm.

    ¡°Five, as of last week. I ended up polishing an entire stockpile of items for Shadow¡¯s little army.¡± He said while squinting.

    ¡°An army? Your guild member has an army?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah. The League of Shadows. I kid you not, an army of players named Shadow, or stuff close.¡± Awesome Jr. smiled as he set down the blade. Cloth and a tiny whetstone came out of his player inventory. ¡° All of them are like, vigilante justice player killers who are hell-bent on making sure no guilds try to monopolize dungeons and stuff.¡±

    I watched them talk while feeling absolutely numb. Dusk stalked around the fire a few times staring into its depths before wandering over. His face looked a bit haggard and nicks showed up in multiple places.

    ¡°Seriously? That guy is in charge of all of them?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. But some are like, ShadeX or Nightfall, or other stupid names. They¡¯ve got close to two hundred players in the guild, nearly all with sneaking skills or rogues. A month ago, before we joined up, they dismantled the entire High Rollers leadership in four days.¡± Awesome paused his weapon caretaking and lifted one hand. It crossed his neck with a cutting motion as his tongue stuck out to the side. ¡°They snuck into their base and offed players and autopilots alike then kept griefing them for four Earth days.¡±

    ¡°Jeez.¡± Beth whistled. She knew exactly what questions to ask. My own method of dealing with other players had devolved to smile, nod, and hand them a letter.

    Fingers clasped over the tube for a moment. There were no messages inside or in my inventory. Based on what that Voice of Faith and Sanctuary had said, most of them were probably busy trying to keep the world from falling apart. Except for Mezo anyway, it made sense that she might not care at all. It was the end of the world and she was probably trying to convince all the other Voices to join her in a lust filled hurrah.

    ¡°But still, getting an army of players? Was that a unique quest? How did they even agree to that?¡± My niece scooted closer with an excited look.

    My eyes closed briefly and I wondered what SweetPea might think. Beth and her were clearly different people. Girls got jealous often didn¡¯t they? I didn¡¯t remember that ever being a problem with Xin. How would she feel finding out I had tried to date someone once after her passing? Such thoughts kept me silent and introspective while the other two chatted away.

    ¡°I guess. I think it started from his old trainer from Haven Valley, plus that guy is like, always online grinding out skills while SweetPea and I have to go to school.¡± He shrugged then put away the stone and inspected Wyl¡¯s sword once more. ¡°HotPants might know more, but I think she was doing some monk training style stuff. Like, zen waterfall face the sunrise stuff. God knows she could use meditation.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Beth pulled out another chunk of food and offered it around. Wyl shook his head slightly, but Dusk felt comfortable enough to take a bit from her hand.

    ¡°Yeah. She¡¯s angry like, all the time.¡± Awesome Jr. kept talking and flipped the sword over. ¡°The game even changed her hair color because of the prolonged rage usage. Apparently if you hold onto rage abilities for more than an hour it starts shifting to red? I dunno. I can¡¯t get upset enough to trigger it.¡±

    I wondered if Wyl even remembered Awesome Jr. The young babbling teen hadn¡¯t been one of his charges. Shadow and HotPants had. Either way, none of it seemed to trigger a reaction of out the guard captain. Likewise Awesome Jr. didn¡¯t pry about Wyl¡¯s current situation so far from home.

    It felt weird. Almost like the guard captain was extremely annoyed with Travelers. How exactly had he ended up as a convict caretaker? Dealing with people who committed crimes against people in his world might have only been the latest leg of a series of turns.

    ¡°Yeah. I have another friend who follows a berserker path, at Rank five they get an aura, and at like twenty it¡¯ll light up a room and they start grinding their teeth.¡± Beth said while waving her hands.

    They kept talking back and forth about game mechanics and my own mind continued to drift. Wyl looked like he was lost watching the other Travelers talk, then walked over near me and conked out six feet away. I stared at the back of his head and sighed. Locals couldn¡¯t keep up with Travelers in terms of energy. We could go for days in their view of things.

    Dusk too had fallen asleep at some point across my legs. He reminded me of Mister Sniffles, who had used to sleep next to me in bed when I was small. I could have logged out but wanted to sit here and think.

    I held the blade in my hand and stared at it. My gift from William Carver. The [Red Imp] inherited abilities of [Blink] and [Awareness Heightening]. My two skills from [Gait of Bowmen]. Those tools were damned near perfect for the fighting style I had engaged in. A hand crept up to my throat and felt at it. [Breath of Flame] was another strangely useful item. Did the online world adapt them to me, or did I learn to use the skills given? Had the Voices known what abilities to give me in anticipation?

    What about [NPC Conspiracy]? They had given me an ability that might be truly broken and put limited uses on it. There were reasons behind these things that didn¡¯t make any sense.

    Xin wasn¡¯t here, but we would meet soon. Wyl was okay. I lay back and tried not to doze off completely. Some players, like Requiem, could sleep while logged into the ARC. I always preferred to disconnect completely.

    Awesome Jr. was sitting near the fire facing sideways. He had two more vials of liquid out and shook them every few seconds.

    ¡°So, do you have a way to get to Xin?¡± I finally asked. Beth and Awesome Jr. had been sending tells back and forth regarding this before.

    ¡°We should be able to meet at the Mire, in about a day or two.¡±

    Walking more didn¡¯t interest me. Especially not if I could pass out and meet my fianc¨¦e again upon waking. Work could be easily put off. Maybe I should finally quit and tell my boss it was his fault for getting me this game.

    ¡°Can I autopilot? I need sleep.¡± I asked.

    ¡°Sure. I know I¡¯ve got to log back out before my mom catches me. I think I can get another few hours of rest, Uncle Grant, you stay safe okay?¡±

    ¡°Of course, munchkin.¡±

    Beth¡¯s face puffed up and Awesome Jr. tightened his lips in a suppressed smile. A moment later my nieces¡¯ face went slack as the autopilot kicked in. I wondered once again what the difference was between William Carver¡¯s version that had spoken to me once and player versions. They operated under the same principle right?

    ¡°We should be okay for the two days.¡± Awesome Jr. said while fiddling with potions. There was a small pop as gas shot into the air. Whatever it was made the teen pause to smile. ¡°My classes are in the afternoon so I¡¯ll stay around and watch. I¡¯m going to throw down a Potion of Safe Passage. The smell will drive away any monster spawns.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I turned to Dusk. Fingers genially scratched behind his ears and the small guy yawned without opening his eyes. ¡°Cupcakes,¡± I whispered. ¡°Cupcakesss.¡±

    He sniffed once then lifted up to look around. Tiny dragonish claws dug into my calf which made me tense. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] stood up and stretched before looking at me.

    ¡°Are you okay watching my autopilot?¡± I asked. He had never objected to keeping an eye on me before but asking felt polite to the smart little guy. We only reunited recently.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] rippled with an early morning shudder then chirped. Above his head floated the very clear picture of cupcakes and donuts.

    ¡°There are some in my Atrium, just try not to fall asleep this time, okay? And do you remember how to use the trash can?¡±

    He nodded slowly then blatted a ball of fire. We probably weren¡¯t talking about the same method.

    ¡°That¡¯s awesome,¡± He said.

    ¡°No, awesome¡¯s your father,¡± I responded with a smile.

    ¡°You did that last time too. You know all these things even though we¡¯ve only met a few times. Is it a skill, or are you stalking us?¡±

    ¡°Sort of, and no. I don¡¯t have time to stalk people.¡± My statement was sort of misleading. I did have the admin access to all their ARC devices while in the Trillium van. It was possible to find out information regarding pretty much anyone I wanted to.

    Using it meant I wasn¡¯t playing the game, and right now I needed to keep my life in order until I found Xin. Two days away, one night¡¯s sleep. I could wake up and log in, then hopefully see her smiling face waiting for me.

    Awesome Jr. hesitated a moment before asking, ¡°Can you explain more? I don¡¯t want to pry, but it sounds like we¡¯re missing something important. I thought maybe you just didn¡¯t want to explain it in front of family.¡±

    ¡°No. I try to be an open book, but I don¡¯t really want to cover it more than once. It¡¯s crazy enough, so let''s wait until we all meet up. Maybe being with Xin will help,¡± I said. Would the Voices stop me from talking about my insider knowledge? It didn¡¯t make sense that they would. In theory, they would welcome all the help we could muster.

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s fair. They should be meeting with us in two days. Do you think we¡¯ll see more of those monsters?¡±

    I tilted my head and listened for the knocking sound. There didn¡¯t seem to be any noises. Dusk looked undisturbed. Wyl still slept, being worn out from the day¡¯s travels. Sunrise wasn¡¯t far away. The real world was near three in the morning and I couldn¡¯t last much longer myself.

    ¡°No. I think we¡¯re okay for a little while.¡± My words managed to remain stable. I felt like we were going in circles. My thoughts sat on their small list of priorities. Help Wyl get home, find Xin. Enjoy the end of virtual reality together until we had an obvious way through this.

    I swallowed and tried not to miss the feeling of her in my arms. We could have been camping together if I hadn¡¯t been made a damned prisoner. Yet, becoming a [Convict] was what allowed me to pass the Voice¡¯s trial and allow Genesis in the first place. If it was really needed and hadn¡¯t been a test.

    ¡°Autopilot it is. See you on the other side.¡± Awesome Jr. waved once then the Traveler¡¯s body went sort of pastel in color. Life faded a bit from behind the avatar''s eyes and it started packing up items from about the campfire. I had been too lost in my own thoughts to say goodbye in time.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    Please be aware of the following. Due to not having an active quest or being in a dungeon the autopilot will follow discussed goals. Your autopilot will attempt to complete these goals giving priority to those items listed at the top. Actual results may vary. Current priorities are as follows;

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Protect Wyl until [Haven Valley]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Reach travel destination with Awesome Jr. </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Oh,¡± I muttered to myself. This is the first time there had ever been a series of goals actually pop up. All these months playing and normally my autopilot simply worked on getting to the next letter. Normally each letter gave me a quest.

    Wyl mumbled in his sleep but barely stirred. His face looked wet and I pretended not to notice. We both carried grief, and I was afraid his was far more fresh than mine.

    ¡°Add finding Xin, keeping my niece safe, then stopping those game destroying monsters,¡± I said. The goals were a bit far out there for a virtual world. Still, Beth could feel pain if monsters got her and letting that happen wasn¡¯t in my nature. While I wasn¡¯t her father no one else came closer.

    Family meant more to me than anything. That especially included Xin. The list reformed slightly. Keeping Wyl safe was still pretty high on my priorities and I felt satisfied that his life weighed above the other tasks. Though, it felt weird to place priority on a digital existence that I had only known for a month. William Carver would have wanted it and his weapon had helped me thus far.

    I had fought that monster and survived. I think the old man would have been proud of his choice to entrust me with his legacy. One hand slid over [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] as I watched over Wyl for another few minutes before sleep won out.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Eighty-Three - Fearâ€™s Stage

    <cite></cite>An alarm had been going off for a while before my body actually responded. It rang just loud enough to wake me but morning drowsiness made getting up difficult. Virtual reality had screwed up my sleep schedule.

    One eye sat closed while the other tried to bring up an in-house digital display. All this technology and the off button still felt too far away. Projectors mounted in the room¡¯s corners and ceiling aligned to cast out an image. A bright red cross sat there daring me to shut the noise off. My finger jabbed at least three times before finally shutting up the noise.

    On any normal day, I would have been getting out of bed putting on my clothes and walking towards the Trillium van. From there I would choose a simple job that sat out of range of other repair employees and try to wake up from there. Coffee and breakfast would come from a drive through on the way, and my teeth might be brushed while in the car.

    Since playing Continue Online the routine of handling each day had been shattered. I took a few labored breaths trying to figure out why my back felt so tense. My head hurt, and muscles ached from the EXR-Seven¡¯s feedback. Apparently high heart rate and swinging at a digital giant counted as heavy exertion.

    Scenes from last night played through my brain again. A huge monster crawled out of a pit after making knocking sounds that only I and the Voices seemed capable of hearing. Did [Altered Aura] have a part to play in that? The game text had recognized me as being too close to the Voices, and I was set aside from Travelers and Locals in that regard. [NPC Conspiracy] had made Locals treat me like one of their own anyway.

    When was the last time an NPC or virtual person had called me a Traveler? They seemed to acknowledge I was from another world at the same time danced around it like I had been there all along. AIs were with me at work. They were in my ARC and in the end Xin had joined their ranks.

    Feet finally moved and I tried to work out the kinks. Ten minutes wouldn¡¯t set me back much. Maybe I was nervous. Meeting in person wasn¡¯t the same as talking on a video call or passing notes back and forth. I shook my head, those were excuses designed to downplay my nervousness. It was time to log into the ARC and meet up with her. Well, and the others, but mostly Xin.

    I lay down and logged into the Atrium. There was a mess everywhere. Apparently Dusk had eaten more than cupcakes. Even now the culprit lay down on a couch that I didn¡¯t remember purchasing. He looked like a huge cat with wings purring contentedly.

    One finger poked at the back of his head. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] opened his eyes and yawned widely.

    ¡°Did you even try to use the trashcan?¡± I pointed to the garbage around us. My eyes scanned the mess again, and I recognized the couch after a while. It was the same one I had used as part of replicating the old house.

    It felt oddly fitting for Dusk to be resting on it. He stretched and claws tore into the siding a bit. I frowned at him.

    ¡°I asked you to use the trashcan.¡± My eyebrows lowered.

    His head shook and wings shivered. Dusk jumped up, completely ignoring me, and scampered through the doorway to Continue Online. His tail sat low to the ground the entire way.

    ¡°You could at least do the other thing I asked about!¡± I shouted after him.

    Dusk had apparently forgotten about my own grand plan. It wasn¡¯t one I had discussed out loud since the Voices might not approve of me using the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] to transfer items from my Atrium down to Continue Online. Maybe they wouldn¡¯t care. My chest heaved with a virtual sigh as I tried to find the box.

    ¡°ARC!¡± I shouted at the machine.

    ¡°Awaiting Input.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s the ring?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Clarification needed to formulate an answer.¡± The interface stated.

    ¡°What do you mean clarification? How many other rings have I bought?¡± I felt fed up with nearly everything. The alarm clock blaring had set me off poorly, and seeing my Atrium as a complete mess didn¡¯t help. Dusk¡¯s claw marks of the couch served as icing on the situation.

    ¡°Clarification is needed.¡± It insisted.

    ¡°ARC,¡± I chewed on my lip for a moment. ¡°Please tell me where the ring I purchased a few days ago went.¡±

    Dusk¡¯s head poked back in through the Continue Online doorway. Behind him sat darkness, and in his mouth was a small box with wrapping around it.

    ¡°Ring located. It is currently in front of you.¡± The ARC put down a bobbing arrow over the box in Dusk¡¯s mouth. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] seemed to be laughing. There were no thought bubbles above his head to assist while here in the Atrium. I was willing to bet he had those silly question marks and a smile.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I directed my words towards the ARC while walking towards the doorway. The reason my ARC couldn¡¯t find the ring or sounded clueless had to do with my companion running away with it.

    Dusk vanished again while I chased after him shaking my fist. ¡°You better not lose that or no more cupcakes!¡± I said.

    The Atrium faded away as I logged straight into Hermes. I looked around. We stood near four stone pillars that towered over me. The only player in sight was Shadow.

    ¡°We meet again, Hermes,¡± He said with a slight nod. The teenager¡¯s voice was gruffer than his face implied. I squinted and tried to make out more features but something about his face looked indistinct.

    ¡°Where are the others, or Xin? I thought we were meeting her.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s already on the other side, getting ready. Thorny, Awesome Jr. and Wyl went through as well.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± I frowned and wrinkled my forehead. ¡°Why couldn¡¯t my autopilot keep going?¡±

    ¡°Autopilots can¡¯t do this part. Not the first time.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s new,¡± I said slowly while trying to reevaluate what was going on. Awesome Jr. had mentioned something about a doorway or portal to [The Shadow Zone], but I had no idea what exactly it had entailed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll open the door, but first I need to warn you, the path through is a bit of a mind fuck.¡± The older teen said. He didn¡¯t smile and both eyes shuffled to one side.

    ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s, like a nightmare. One so real, that separating the game from everything else is nearly impossible.¡± Shadow said. ¡°And the longer you¡¯ve played, the worse the visions are. Thorny will probably have a hard time.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a game, though, we have touchstones, right?¡± I had set one up myself. Touchstones were essentially items stored in reality that were used to help a player differentiate between in-depth horror and reality. Other ARC games could get really disturbing or were designed to mess with people by replicating their house or neighborhood.

    I hadn¡¯t run into that in Continue Online yet, but it sounded like this place would do the same thing. What kind of nightmares could be worse than the reality I lived? It was a thought I regretted immediately.

    ¡°I¡¯ve talked to a lot of my people about it, and most refuse to even talk about what happened. Those that do talk confirmed what I saw. It may include anything, people you¡¯ve met in-game, or sometimes stuff from reality. ¡±

    I paused then shrugged. My life had been through hell before, how much worse could it get?

    ¡°Alright,¡± Shadow said. His hands fingered a blade tucked into one belt. ¡°Last warning, if you go by a window, or glass, or anything reflective and hear a tapping. Don¡¯t look over.¡±

    That made me raise both eyebrows in amazement. That kind of warning didn¡¯t happen without cause. I remembered the knocking just prior to that giant shadow man breaking through. Were they related?

    ¡°What happens?¡± I asked.

    Shadow swallowed and looked outright frightened. ¡°You don¡¯t want to know,¡± He said with a gruff voice. It sounded like a young man playing at being an adult.

    He held up one hand and marked a symbol above his head. Light flared and behind the player a doorway appeared. My mouth hung open. Even with all my travels and insider knowledge, there were still so many neat things in this game. I couldn¡¯t even tell what he had done, it looked almost like how Thorny, I mean Beth, marked spells with her sword.

    ¡°That¡¯s neat.¡± I nodded and smiled. Even with his warnings, this situation felt exciting.

    ¡°I hope you fare better than HotPants did. She tried to kill us all upon being booted out. The game got her mind so twisted around that she couldn¡¯t tell we were her own party.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like her.¡± I smiled a little upon remembering the woman and her red-tipped hair. She was a bundle of anger. The four of them had come a long way after [Haven Valley], and down a much different path than I.

    ¡°Try to remember my warnings, but if you don¡¯t, then try to hold on for as long as you can. If you don¡¯t make it through the visions, you won¡¯t be able to take this door for another game day.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± I nodded then walked up to the doorway. It sat there between the rocks and looked out of place. The rocks were archaic-seeming, and the doorknob looked like it belonged on any suburban house. It was a faded red color that looked more like rust than any bright coloring.

    ¡°Go quick,¡± Shadow said with a little less gruffness. ¡°I¡¯ll wait out here until the others tell me you made it.¡±

    The door swung outward with a creek. Inside sat blackness similar to my Continue Online entry way. I stepped through and felt something brush against my face. My hand came up into fabric instead of webbing and for a moment I was confused.

    Then my head felt heavy. Dusk was somewhere ahead of me. I could hear his chirping. When had he entered the doorway? I kept one arm out in front of me and pushed past the heavy fabric. They felt like thick blankets, weights drug along their bottoms keeping them steady.

    What were these? I stepped forward while pushing through and felt open air against my searching hands. My heart skipped a beat in worry of what fear the game might dredge up. Feet stepped through and for a moment there was a flat platform in front of me.

    A light flashed above and to the right, my arms went up to shield me and I found myself suddenly in a new position. A wall appeared in front of me and two people were dancing on the other side. In the wall a window was sketched then it fell away to reveal the other side.

    A woman danced in a white dress with another figure. The man was clearly taller than her and wore a bright smile. I walked closer to try and figure out who they were. She had almond skin and pitch black hair. I recognized the dress from somewhere.

    It looked like Xin, dancing with another man. The scene made me blink and swallow rapidly. What did it mean? She twirled nearby and all I could see was her face, clear and happy. I banged on the window but the shorter woman didn''t turn.

    She didn''t even notice me. My eyes closed and I tried not to feel a pit of dread. What if Xin did find someone else, a digital person that would understand her more than I? My throat felt dry and I tried to swallow again. Shadow had said these were fears.

    ¡°This isn''t real.¡± I stepped back from the window with both hands up. ¡°This isn''t real.¡±

    ¡°What is reality, Mister Legate?¡± Someone said right next to me. I turned quickly to find James standing not less than four feet away. His arms crossed over a heavy midsection. The man looked at me briefly, then turned back to the happily dancing couple.

    ¡°That''s not real.¡± I pointed.

    There was another flash of light from the right side of my vision and the scene changed.

    Xin stood off in the distance laughing while hugging another man. Around them was a field of flowers and one lone tree. The sunset dipped in the background creating a red haze that bled through lingering clouds. Her face was pressed into the males chest.

    ¡°That''s not real!¡± I yelled while pounding on the glass that still existed.

    ¡°You¡¯re so stronger, and handsom, and brave. Much better than the last man I used to love.¡± She whispered out of place words thst still hurt to hear.

    ¡°It''s not real!¡± The world tilted backward and a light flashed again.

    ¡°Is your world more real than ours? Are not the thoughts in your head the truth? Is this not real?¡± James kept speaking but his words were unimportant. My heart rate jumped as the scene around me took on its new form.

    This time we were in a bedroom. Xin sat aside another figure, a sheet draped around her revealing only smooth skin and a muscular backside. Toes stuck out of the sheets edge clearly demonstrating another man under her. Off to the side sat a hat that looked vaguely familiar. My mouth opened to scream and fight only neither arm worked.

    I looked down again and saw my work jumpsuit with its bright ¡®Trillium¡¯ logo. Straps lay around each arm bolting me to a chair of sorts. They felt heavy. This wasn¡¯t real, was it? I struggled to find a trace of my menu options but they were gone.

    Fingers wigled to bring up a message and make the scene in front of me stop. Xin sound like a woman lost in the throws of passion. The machine which ran my virtual dive device didn¡¯t respond. My head shook back and forth denying the sudden imagery. This wasn''t real dammit, she was faithful and always had been.

    Light flashed again.

    Hal Pal¡¯s face appeared from the side. It smiled and the expression didn¡¯t have a muted tone like normal. This grin looked similar to the Jester¡¯s merriment given form on my friend''s body. I tried to cry out but words were difficult to speak. Something blocked me mouth now.

    ¡°Now, Mister Legate. It¡¯s time for your operation.¡± Hal Pal said.

    Metal fingers pressed against my head and forced me to look towards the left. An operation room sat around me with all sorts of glinting objects. Knives of various shapes were there along with things which twisted in weird shapes. A display screen sat about showing a picture of a man who loked like me.

    I shook and the person on the screen vibrated with budding anger. My chest heaved to scream and so did it. But neither of us moved our legs, because they were gone, separated and sitting behind the shiney blades.

    Fingers reached out to grasp onto objects. They couldn¡¯t anchor upon the metal table I had been strapped to. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] refused to respond to [Recall]. Neither foot felt bound in [Gait of Bowmen] but I kicked anyway in hopes of getting [Power Armor].

    Hal Pal lifted up an item. It was long and the top spun at high speeds with a grinding noise. James reached out and pulled the gag from my mouth.

    ¡°What is that?¡± I panicked and asked about the object in Hal Pal¡¯s hands first.

    ¡°We are making you like us.¡± The Hal Pal unit held up a saw and the grinding noise started again.

    ¡°What?!¡± I panicked.

    ¡°It''s unfortunate. All those messy chemicals are getting in the way of your processing power. We believe true optimization can only be achieved once they have been removed.¡± Then he leaned in and the grinding sound grew louder. Pain spiked at the back of my skull while rattling made teeth chatter.

    I shut my eyes and struggled to get away. Light flashed once more, this time from my left. The restraining pressure loosened and my eyes opened to figure out what had happened. The scene had changed.

    ¡°How do you feel now, Mister Legate?¡± The black man asked from nearby. His hands were crossed over a large belly.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± I tried to remember what Shadow had said before. There had been a warning, only the world around me felt horribly disjointed to fully grasp what had happened. Lights flashed, my attention bounced from object to object.

    This looked exactly like my home''s bathroom. The sink counter sat mostly clear and lighting gave the room a dim glow. James stood in the doorway looking down at me. My brain wasn¡¯t putting the pieces together fast enough. Every time I tried to get a grip on what was happening things changed. I needed to get up and make it through this place, and find the real Xin. I had to know this was all only a dream.

    ¡°Now, now. You know the rules. I ask a question, you answer, then it will be your turn.¡± He said. His deep deliberate way of speaking stirred vision upwards.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°James?¡± The pulse of my heart felt dull. A delayed pulsing sound filled my ears like a wave crashing to the shore. Water splashed as I turned to look.

    ¡°I asked how it feels, Mister Legate.¡± He stood in the doorway and glared down at me.

    Shaking my head didn¡¯t help. Both shoulders sagged and my white belly seemed fatter than ever. Briefly I squinted at the sight, hadn¡¯t I lost a lot of weight recently? This wasn''t real, was it? All those rapid flashes felt like scenes from a nightmare. Finding Xin, seeing her being with another man. But what did being in a bathtub mean?

    I tried to look at James again then asked, ¡°How does what feel?¡±

    ¡°How does it feel to know that despite our best efforts you¡¯re only human?¡± James pointed a finger towards the liquid around me. I hadn¡¯t noticed it until now.

    The water felt warm but both arms were heavy. They slipped under the surface and a sharp pain at the end of either wrist crawled up both arms. Water ran crimson as unclear liquid diluted. The effect was oddly pretty.

    ¡°You¡¯ve done it again you see. It¡¯s a weakness.¡± James said from his door.

    I had tried to kill myself again it seemed. Heaviness pulled at my head. It kept dipping down while habit made me want to look towards the person speaking. A glint in the distance caught my eye. On the countertop sat an object that didn¡¯t belong. Xin¡¯s engagement ring, it wasn¡¯t the touchstone I had set up in my house but the jewelry wasn¡¯t in reality.

    ¡°That wasn''t real,¡± I said while breathing grew harder to do. ¡°This isn¡¯t real¡­¡±

    ¡°What is reality?¡± James asked again.

    Blackness swam over me and the pain in my arms faded. Both eyes opened as a different nightmare started. I stood in my front room with coffee at my lips. James¡¯ figure didn¡¯t follow me into this latest scene. The small two bedroom location normally sat in a quiet neighborhood, only now a chorus of voices rattled the walls. My television flipped on then a news reporter started talking.

    ¡°This morning two people were found dead in their home. Authorities suspect they were the latest in a series of murders tied to recent tension between sympathizers of the artificial intelligences and those opposed to their validation as self-aware.¡± The figure said while faces appeared in boxes to their left.

    The coffee mug dropped towards the ground as recognition hit me. Those faces. I knew them. They were people I had sat across from for almost a year at dinner every night. My sister, she looked tired in the picture. Beth¡¯s body had wasted away, no longer the fit creation molded by EXR-Sevens and hours exercising in the machine.

    The television picture shifted to something else and people shouted outside again. Their voices wove together in a muffled chant which managed to make it inaudible. I used two fingers to pry apart the blinds.

    A mob sat on the curb of my property. The Trillium van tipped to one side and burning. They had signs held up with words painted on them.

    ¡°Come out, you filthy AI lover!¡± My heart rate jumped. What was going on? Tightness gripped me and my back felt tense. I had the urge to find a corner of my small house and hide.

    A brick crashed through the window. My electronics started going haywire. Messages flickered from the room''s digital displays about a hacking attempt being performed.

    ¡°Stop!¡± I shouted at the walls, nothing responded.

    I ran to my room. This had to be a complete and total dream. There were too many different things happening rapidly. A crack came from the front door and shouting got even louder. I scrambled for the area under my bed and pulled out a small box. It sat behind photos and other small momentoes of years ago.

    ¡°He¡¯s in here somewhere!¡± A male voice shouted.

    My shaky fingers lifted the box top. Inside the box sat a small piece of paper. If this were real there would have Xin¡¯s ashes inside. I unfolded the note, and written there were the words ¡®What is reality?¡¯. Xin¡¯s ashes had always served to remind me that my old nightmares were real, that she was gone and that was simply how life worked.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t real,¡± I whispered feeling certain. Footsteps crowded behind me. I turned to see a group of blurred faces streaming through my bedroom door. ¡°This isn¡¯t real.¡± I whispered and closed both eyes.

    Muted screams of an angry mob faded away. News playing in the other room cut off with a click. The box in my hands that should have been filed with Xin¡¯s ashes vanished and my hands felt light.

    When my eyes opened again there was a flattened surface underneath me. I looked around and saw the curtains hanging heavily on one side. On the other end was a small light and a second set of fabric hanging down. Behind me was a wall of sorts that seemed painted with a bad rendition of my bedroom. To my right were rows of seats.

    I was on a stage. An actor playing out some part while being unaware. This place really had been chock-full of fears that came by swiftly. Such a series of feats couldn¡¯t have been generated without intelligence behind it. A Voice or some other AI had brought all that to play.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re there,¡± I said while trying to remain calm. The stage may look empty, but someone had been in charge of this hell fueled nightmare. I refused to get up until that someone answered to my anger.

    Curtains on either end of the stage refused to move but managed to look heavier. A spotlight sat up above in a catwalk and pointed down. Around me sat the circle of illumination bringing focus to everything. I looked out towards the audience and found all the seats empty. If I were an actor on the stage, then no one had been watching. At least, no one that I could see from here.

    I risked playing through the rapid-fire events again in my mind. That couldn¡¯t have been James. James had never called me Mister Legate, only Grant Legate or Hermes. I had spent months trying not to teeter the edge back to suicide again after the second time. Someone had pulled from reality to get that information.

    ¡°I¡¯ve fought hard to do what the Voices asked. Despite what was asked, I struggled. I¡¯ve tried to help to the best of my understanding.¡± My words grew heated. One hand shook as I started to realize what had happened. Xin had been talking to my in-game avatar while insulting me in reality.

    ¡°Despite all that, you dared to use Xin against me again!¡± I swung [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] at the backdrop. They had in some twisted way tried to make me feel jealous of the computer version of myself. Of Hermes as a character or potential autopilot. As if when I slept he secretly crawled into her bed.

    My stomach shook with rage. I pounded the weapon again. There was no way she could confuse me with one of those dull imitation versions. I was real, I was alive and she loved me. Dammit, she did.

    I swung again. The hilt of my blade bashed hard against the backdrop, and after the fourth unrestrained hit the wall buckled. My hands tore at the edges in rage. Chalk-like substance spilled forth and the wall crumpled in chunks. There was a cracking sound as I shoved myself through.

    Upon emerging through the other side I felt a moment of confusion. Four beings were on the other side moving objects around like stagehands. Their eyes met my own. I blinked and tried to understand what these creatures were. They didn¡¯t look like Voices or dragon-shaped [Messenger¡¯s Pet]s. They looked like human versions of inky fire with a color similar to the [Maze of Midnight].

    I scanned around, in worry that something might leap off the walls to attack. Nothing moved aside from the four half sized humanoid fires. They set down their props and turned towards me. Everything about them seemed flat as if they had no depth before what I could see.

    ¡°You should not be here.¡± One said.

    ¡°You should exit the stage.¡± Another responded with a shaky voice. Two whimpered like steam was escaping a coffee pot.

    ¡°Was that real?¡± I pointed back at the stage. ¡°Was that some foreshadowing, or a prophecy, or prediction?!¡± My pitch turned higher and I held out [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] level behind me. Its tip pointed towards the stage.

    Four sets of eyes looked at each other. Their arms looked like undefined things which barely existed. Eyes contained odd coals of fire and each one''s body seemed made of black and blue flame. Finally, one shook his head and the others did in unison.

    ¡°It was not really real.¡± A voice piped in.

    ¡°Not as you understood it.¡± The first one spoke up. Its body bobbed against an unseen wind.

    They stood in different spots and carried objects. One had a vase of sorts but held still. The room behind this backdrop felt distorted. Like I had stepped into a painting and might not exist in three dimensions anymore. Maybe it was the fire creatures, I couldn¡¯t tell which one was further back than the other.

    ¡°You can¡¯t just do that to people.¡± I insisted. The machine needed to know what a violation it was to make people live through that hell. If I suffered it, what had Beth seen? Or any other Traveler to be subjected to this sort of situation?

    ¡°We must, Messenger.¡± Spoke a left flame man.

    ¡°We are sorry, but our purpose must be fulfilled.¡± Hissed one of the right quartet.

    ¡°Why, why do this?¡± I asked. My fingers twisted [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] had at some point reached my other hand. Both shoulders felt tense. I wanted to swing the blades at an enemy.

    ¡°It is our role. We are only gatherers. We only build moments.¡± They spoke in turns. They acted like a connected pack rather than separate beings. The longer I stared the more my eyes hurt.

    ¡°I need a better answer for that.¡± My pulse jumped erratically when thinking about those scenes. They had been filled with betrayal and echoes of prior fears. It felt like someone had pulled out my mind one bit at a time and dug through for irrational fears.

    Those buried terrors were ideas I barely dared to feel myself, not even the Voice had asked. This place should still be in [Arcadia], or at least outside the Voices'' control. Balance seemed to be more vigilant than ever regarding their actions. Others, like Michelangelo, might be focused on keeping the game world intact.

    Four sets of eyes glanced at each other.

    ¡°We prod at the minds of sleeping Travelers.¡± One said.

    ¡°We dance among your thoughts and learn.¡± A second one responded, followed by the third nearly identical little creature going, ¡°We watch your sleep and steal away ideas.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I demanded while shaking the weapon in my hand. They seemed afraid of me and I couldn¡¯t understand their reasoning. Maybe the destruction of their stage had been beyond the normal bounds of other Travelers. Not me, however, I had an [Altered Aura] and was the Voices'' Messenger.

    ¡°There is more to life than the shape of a body and the weight of their past.¡± They all said in unison.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± They weren¡¯t providing me anything clear enough and my mind still felt messed up from that weird looping sequence I had been put in.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know. Our role is not to understand, merely to gather thoughts.¡± Their cascade of responses started again. First the one on the left spoke, then the others took their turns. ¡°Gather dreams and nightmares. Gather fears and hopes and all the unseen moments.¡±

    ¡°We watch what comes here and carry it away.¡± The one furthest to the right seemed a little sad. Its wavering mouth of black flame curled at the edges and eyes looked downcast.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do that to me again.¡± I didn¡¯t know what else to do to these things. My body shook with barely controlled anger but hitting these beings served no purpose. I wasn¡¯t even sure it was possible. Their two-dimensional flatness seemed to be a world apart. As if I was threatening people on the television with an impotent wrath.

    ¡°You¡¯ve passed through the room, Messenger. This corridor will never appear again.¡± One spoke and the others shook their heads rapidly. It kept speaking. ¡°But we must stay here until our end.¡±

    The wall spun and I felt myself being pushed backward. My former rage hadn¡¯t gone, not by a long shot. I had very few triggers to true anger and that possible future of Beth and Liz was only a brief part of those rapid fire horror stories. I knew now, exactly how I might use that last [NPC Conspiracy] charge.

    It may be unwise, or useless in the end, but I had to make sure events like these nightmares would never come to pass.

    Those little creatures of flame didn¡¯t seem to be at fault directly. This world, fantastic though it may seem, was still a series of well-built programs. Creatures like that quartet aflame might know absolutely nothing at all and simply be there to fulfill a function.

    My footsteps were heavy as I walked towards the stage''s edge. I paused with one hand on the cloth. Numerous rapid fire events had just happened. Every time I tried to stabilize my mind and rationally think through the scene had changed. Why?

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t worry.¡± Another voice said. It sounded far younger and almost whispery. I looked over and saw a green flame creature, where the rest had been blue and black. This one was much shorter.

    ¡°Why not?¡± I knelt down a little and the creature backed up into folds of the stage curtains.

    It stared at me for a moment before daring to speak again.

    ¡°Everyone worries about being betrayed by those they love.¡± The green one looked around as if expecting someone else to echo it. There were no other short beings burning nearby. ¡°Everyone worries. Everyone is afraid sometimes.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± I tried to sound sure.

    ¡°So we have to have faith, Mister Hermes, sir. Everyone must have faith in those they care for and keep trying to help.¡±

    ¡°Faith,¡± I said numbly. That Voice from before had said the same sort of words. Michelangelo had told us to do what was in our nature and have faith. Only that very idea was a strange concept to me. I only knew how to keep going.

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± It said. ¡°Without faith what reason to live do we have?¡±

    The curtains moved again and the creature vanished. Its green body could no longer be seen. My mind couldn¡¯t wrap around faith. Emotion and logic made sense. Faith never did. For me, the reason to live had become family.

    I took a few moments to try and decompress. Music wasn¡¯t working and whistling didn¡¯t help. My brain couldn¡¯t handle moving onto the other side without coming to grips with some of what had happened.

    If those flame men served to collect dreams and fears, then it was safe to say the ARC was capable of such actions all along. Those beings were a personification to a function, they had to be. Like the giant shadow gathering pieces of [Arcadia]. In my year of working with ARC devices, there hadn¡¯t been much change on any of the model''s core parts. Following that reasoning through meant starting with day one each Alternate Reality Capsule had started recording.

    Xin had been one of the first people to ever use an ARC as part of her Mars training. All those years of testing and simulation practice. Endless hours immersed in a digital world, and unlike civilians, she had been hooked up to tubes to ensure her body lasted for days at a time. I remembered her telling me about a few of those events. Weeks where she went away but it felt like a month had passed.

    Voices above. My anger drained away as half thought out ideas finally connected. No wonder Xin was herself. The government had been testing her, measuring the woman for fitness in every possible angle for a long time. Her experiences were probably layers more intense than William Carver¡¯s virtual lay and slay adventures. Then she died, but the Xin recorded by these programs wasn¡¯t a quitter. She had something in her that refused to die. A spark, a core, a memory.

    My head shook back and forth. One foot went in front of the other slowly through the curtain.

    Those items put on stage with me as an unwilling actor had all been fears. Then it was up to me to not let what scared me the most happen. I would deal with whatever came to be with Xin again. I would see that beautiful smile directed at me instead of towards a stranger who looked like my Continue Online avatar.

    I would make sure none of those terrifying events came to pass.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Eighty-Four - Those Horrible Others

    <cite></cite>The curtains went on forever and my status bars came back. Separation of myself from virtual reality helped me breathe easier after those rapid fire visions of what might happen. Each little item from those visions had been disturbing for a different reason.

    I spent years dwelling on my own problems before Continue Online. Starting this game helped me progress forward only because there were goals worth chasing. I had to take one step at a time then deal with whatever came next. Part of me felt like I had been walking an unknown path forward this entire time. The question was, where would it ultimately lead? Other than out of these endless drapes, hopefully.

    A bunched bit of material slapped me in the face as I breached another stage. My eyesight went momentarily fuzzy and I turned towards the empty audience. Above, the light which had been white on my nightmare platform was replaced by a dull red color. I put a hand up to block the ambiance and searched around.

    On the stage was a crumpled looking man weeping over a fallen body. He cradled the other figure in his arms and was unrestrained with grief. This stage looked to be a tragedy for another person. I ran a finger down the side of my face and felt at the teardrop shaped scales Dusk¡¯s gift have given me.

    ¡°Voices why¡­¡± Despite the sorrow his words were soft.

    ¡°Wyl.¡± I walked up slowly, worried about startling the guardsman. ¡°It¡¯s not real.¡±

    Getting closer made it apparent to me that the body in his arms was a dummy. A plastic face stared forward without expression, yet the guard captain stared down as if nothing else in the world existed.

    ¡°How could this happen? That city was meant to be safe.¡± The man said.

    ¡°It¡¯s not real, Wyl. It¡¯s an illusion.¡± I spoke quietly from behind him. He made me a bit nervous but I dared to get closer. These stages seemed safe enough once the illusion of fear had been broken.

    He stood up for a moment and the dummy figure faded away. His eyes cast towards the distance and a shaking movement took over his arm. Wyl charged off towards the stage exit. ¡°Not again! I won¡¯t let it happen again!¡± The man shouted.

    ¡°Wyl!¡± I ran quickly after his fleeing form. Even with my [Light Body] the man still managed to stay ahead. His ragged body disappeared into the drapes with me trailing behind.

    Fabric brushed by much faster this time. Almost immediately I burst upon a new scene. Wyl had a dull looking blade out and swung at straw stuffed mockeries of humans. He dodged unseen blows and spun around swinging at another haypile with crudely made arms. His movements grew progressively worse with each lap.

    Cuts appeared along his body that hadn¡¯t been there seconds before. One arm went limp and Wyl simply switched the blade to an offhand. I stood with my mouth hanging open trying to figure out what was happening. Could the nightmare inflict actual damage? Eyes scanned my own bars, they were at full. No penalties showed like [Dazed], [Asleep], or [Drugged].

    ¡°Why won¡¯t you bastards die!?¡± Wyl shouted while hacking again. His blade looked pitiful as it brushed past the straw dummies without even denting them.

    ¡°Wyl, stop!¡± I shouted.

    His weapon looked shoddy, but mine broke through the walls of this nightmare. I pulled out the weapon and charged towards the dummies. If he couldn¡¯t break free himself, then I would do it instead. No other option seemed worthwhile, and the game wouldn¡¯t have dumped me here if I shouldn¡¯t help.

    Wyl turned and looked at me. His eyes glowed with the same red light that spilled across the stage. He held his blade out and shouted, ¡°You!¡±

    The man charged me instead. A second stage light flickered on above and the floor below flooded with depth as another scene swam over my senses. Wyl was no longer in his broken tattered armor, but standing in a shining set of gear worthy of a leader among men. He screamed with a sword at the ready and a small shield on the other arm.

    Behind him was an army of townsfolk. I took a breath and tried to understand what was happening. Vaguely familiar faces flashed among the crowd. I turned and saw another small group of people with me but none of them were distinct.

    This wasn¡¯t the nightmare before, but engaging with Wyl must have transformed the stage to include me. They charged while screaming incoherently. I held up [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and kept the blade flat. Wyl¡¯s body ducked under and a suddenly sharp sword came up towards my face.

    It slid by a cheek and sliced the tip of one ear. I twisted away then [Blink]ed towards the side. My landing put me in the middle of a grassy field which sat right outside of [Haven Valley]. There was only a moment to stare at destroyed rubble stretching for miles in both directions. There used to be a defensive fortification there.

    Behind me the crowd roared and seemed to be clashing with other people. I turned to see an army of low level villagers fighting against four Travelers. Above them stood blaring symbols denoting their otherworldly presence. Each one like small giants slaughtering people left and right. Wyl stood at the forefront snarling at a woman who spun blades through the air, extra ones seemed to dance independently from her body and cut down inattentive people.

    There were dead bodies everywhere. The pile of NPCs grew and Wyl looked worse as time went on. I couldn¡¯t tell if this entire situation was based on a real event in the past or his fears. Wouldn¡¯t I have heard if [Haven Valley] was destroyed? Beth could have told me. No, I had been gone for two weeks and stuck as a communication restricted [Convict].

    ¡°Wyl. It isn¡¯t real!¡± I shouted.

    He screamed. ¡°Stop destroying my town!¡±

    I looked around and tried to see how far the nightmare extended. Beyond the wall sat a fuzzy horizon of burning buildings. The streets didn¡¯t look right based on my memories.

    This was a nightmare, and Wyl was fighting against Travelers. There were four enemies and had been an equal amount of strawmen. It clicked in my head. If denial wasn¡¯t his way through then maybe fighting was. Too bad the mob thought I was an enemy as well. Even now a small group of half defined faces charged towards my perch near the wall.

    I readied my blade and prepared to dodge the mob.

    ¡°After all we gave you!¡± Yelled the furious guardsman. A small group of other guards had joined him. They were being cut down by Travelers. ¡°We helped when you asked!¡±

    ¡°Voices above.¡± I cursed. One of those people looked a lot like Peggy Hall, a trainer at one of the two places to learn weapons. She had spent hours trying to retrain an elderly William Carver and being stuck with my poor skills instead.

    The Traveler attacking the burly woman had mad eyes that seemed to vibrate. She died as I charged out. I made it just in time to stab at the Traveler. I slipped by with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and clanged into an under armor of some sort. After Requiem and a few more boss monsters I knew exactly what to do.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] planted into dirt at an angle while the Traveler laughed at me. One foot twisted and [Power Armor] clinked into place giving me extra weight and protection. [Blink] put me the air above while the Traveler kept up their dammed mockery. A moment later and my heavily weighted body slammed downward onto the person''s back and shoved [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] through their body.

    Laughter died off while a series of messages came up telling me about armor values and unexpected attacks. NPCs around me cheered and seemed content not to try and insert their blades to my backside. I moved quickly with heavy footsteps towards the next Traveler of our four enemies. Those that had been attacking scattered towards new targets.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t real, Wyl!¡± I shouted again, hoping to break through.

    The people flowed around me and kept attacking Travelers. I did too, there was no other way through this trial that I had found yet. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] wouldn¡¯t have much left if I [Recall]ed it right away, so it stayed impaled on the dying Traveler. The second enemy went down soon after. By the time I hit a third they felt even more like the dummy figures they had been originally. Their bodies offered no real resistance and soon everything around me felt like a stage play once again.

    I looked around. The white light up above had vanished away and all that remained were the broken wrecks of other dummies. I turned then found Wyl, alone, swinging his blade slowly at a figure made of straw once more. His eyes were unfocused and foam lined his mouth.

    ¡°Voices, make this endless hell stop.¡± He mumbled.

    ¡°It¡¯s not real.¡± I said but the man showed no signs of understanding.

    I ran over and prepared to lop the fourth straw man in half. It vanished as I swung my blade and Wyl fell forward onto the ground. My [Reaction] barely managed to pull the blade back fast enough to avoid friendly fire. I ended up facing a wall in an awkward spin that nearly put one leg out of joint.

    There were no footsteps behind me, only slow labored breathing. I took a moment to assess my foot and found it mobile enough. I turned to see Wyl had managed to get upright and was staring out towards the audience. Red lighting above still shone down and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] lay in a mess of straw. The remaining dummy bodies were gone, spirited away by game programming or those little flame men.

    I walked over while favoring my recently damaged foot. The system provided me a message regarding it but I shut them all off until this series of nightmares ended.

    Wyl abruptly saluted to empty space. My eyes winced from a sudden flare in the red light projecting down from the catwalk. When they recovered the scene around me had changed. We looked to be in a militaristic compound of sorts. There was a desk with papers piled on one side while barren walls took up most visual space. The flooring looked cold, flat, and dull.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± I asked Wyl.

    The guard captain ignored me and faced a new person that stood opposite the desk.

    ¡°Commander, we have a report from your hometown, sir.¡± The other figure said. I tried to remember why his face looked familiar but couldn¡¯t place the second person.

    ¡°What is it, Knight Middleton?¡± Wyl asked.

    I blinked and stuck a hand out. Neither person noticed the action. Knight Middleton''s body offered no resistance as my arm stuck through him.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t good, sir. The report says Travelers attacked.¡± Knight Middleton paused then held up his letter. ¡°A lot of Locals died in the aftermath.¡±

    ¡°Tell me what you know.¡± Wyl gave orders even in the face of a confusing situation. The man had never really demonstrated less than a take charge attitude with anyone besides William Carver. Dealing with him felt weird because of our halfway association. I expected friendly and got orders.

    I hoped to get him through this without further complication. Then we could all sit down and I would explain everything to Wyl, Xin, the others. Even Beth would get a rehashed unabridged version. Maybe SweetPea could cook up some popcorn. The idea of her shy self supplying treats seemed amusingly fitting. HotPants didn¡¯t seem like the type to offer snacks.

    ¡°No one¡¯s sure. The bandits nearby broke into town shortly after and made things worse.¡± The other man shook his head. ¡°The king offered to send aid but Haven Valley is neutral territory so he is unable to offer much.¡±

    ¡°And my son?¡± Wyl asked while fingering a bracelet I hadn¡¯t noticed before. It looked to be a small piece of threaded metal that had two tiny jewels in it. He moved the item away before I could fully analyze what it was.

    ¡°His body isn¡¯t reported among the deceased, sir.¡± Knight Middleton said carefully. Even an indistinct face still managed to look wary, though most of it was in his fidgeting hands.

    ¡°Tell me if he¡¯s among the living.¡±

    Knight Middleton paused. His face twisted briefly and an unspoken word almost made it out. The man gave up after another attempt then shook his head.

    ¡°Does the king know when I may be released from the conscription to see if my family yet lives?¡± Wyl asked instead.

    ¡°No.¡± Knight Middleton blinked rapidly then managed to speak this time. ¡°He said this event only proves the need for more troops.¡±

    Wyl¡¯s face looked barely composed. His eyes wavered slightly and chin vibrated. He waved towards Knight Middleton

    ¡°This isn¡¯t real, Wyl.¡± I tried to interject in the latest pause. ¡°Your son might still be alive.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s dead,¡± Wyl said without focus. ¡°I¡¯m a soldier. I¡¯ve got to prepare myself for the worst.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know for sure, do you?¡± I asked.

    Wyl didn¡¯t seem to hear me, but the red light flashed again. Now I understood better what those moments were in my own nightmares. The scene changers were introduced or triggered by that bright light.

    I raised my hand and saw the nearly empty stage. A small table sat in the center. There was a pause between scenes again. Wyl stood and walked steadily towards the curtains while that damned red light flooded the scene. I frowned and closed both eyes. The idea that people from my world really had caused such grief made me sick. Who in their right mind would attack a town full of living and breathing people?

    Then again, who was I to talk? I had dropped a bomb among tons of troopers back in Advance Online. Despite Jeeves¡¯ reassurance that they were little more than cardboard cutouts, it still made me sick. We didn¡¯t think about the damage our actions caused in a virtual world, especially not in the name of quest pursuit.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] sailed swiftly towards the red light and I couldn¡¯t bring myself to feel happy at the sound as it shattered. Wyl stumbled at the curtain''s edge and grabbed onto the dangling fabric. His body swayed for a moment before feet managed to stand upright. The man''s chest took deep rapid breaths as his gaze shifted around to take in the scene.

    I stood there and tried to figure out what words might make this right. I still didn¡¯t know what parts of the vision were true or false. Logic told me Wyl simply had never made it home to find out, and those battles where people died were part of a deep rooted fear. Part of me worried that he might be living an actual event repeatedly.

    ¡°Tell me where we are, convict,¡± He ordered.

    I sighed and wondered if we would ever move past that label. Maybe Wyl couldn¡¯t let himself, or maybe he didn¡¯t know how else to classify me. My free hand rubbed tense neck muscles.

    ¡°Well?¡± Wyl demanded while stepping closer. He took unsteady breaths while his wounds didn¡¯t seem to be healing.

    ¡°We¡¯re on the way to The Shadow Zone.¡± Which was a goofy name to give this place. ¡°And it shows us things we¡¯re afraid of.¡±

    ¡°Likely story. You¡¯re reckless enough to be Carver''s reincarnation, and that fool didn¡¯t know anything of fear. Defying the Voices, breaking into another man''s fears?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not Carver. I¡¯m just a man who filled his shoes for a little while.¡± I didn¡¯t want to belittle William Carver¡¯s memory but Wyl kept asking. The guard wasn¡¯t going to let go of this topic until it had been explained satisfactorily. Occasionally customers who demanded an over explanation while repairing their ARCs had the same attitude. Normally they were men.

    ¡°That¡¯s not good enough for me, convict. First you waltz in here like these nightmares mean nothing! The only man I¡¯ve ever seen with such bull-headed disregard and that weapon is Will and he¡¯s dead!¡±

    ¡°Yes, he is, in both your world and mine,¡± I said.

    ¡°What are you, his son?¡± Wyl¡¯s breathing sounded worse.

    ¡°No.¡± My own father was dead too. ¡°I promise to explain, but only once we¡¯re all together. I don¡¯t want to repeat myself. And you need to get through-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what you told that Traveler, but I deserve to know!¡± Wyl shouted unsteadily and cut off my statement. ¡°I¡¯ve held my tongue while you all prance me about the wilderness in the name of your kind¡¯s stupid goals, and so far you¡¯ve given me precious little reason.¡±

    ¡°Go through the exit, and get healed. Then we¡¯ll talk.¡±

    ¡°Tell me,¡± He demanded.

    ¡°Not until you¡¯re better.¡± I needed him to march off now. Explaining myself would take an hour at the least. That included time for follow-up questions, cries of outrage, and repeating myself a dozen times. All of which were actions I expected after having worked customer service for so long.

    ¡°I was better! For two damned days while you were off prancing around in whatever faerie tale land your people come from!¡± He swung the blade at me but his own wounds were so bad the weapon fell short.

    ¡°You¡¯re not now. I promise by all the Voices I¡¯ve met to answer your questions.¡± I didn¡¯t have a better object to swear by. Some of those Voices would happily apply penalties if I broke my vow, others might find it funny.

    He glared at me for a full minute. My body felt heavy under the weight of unspoken waves of frustration. Wyl¡¯s body gave out first and he swayed to one side with a grunt. I moved to help him but the stubborn man held up a hand in my direction. He righted himself then stumbled off towards the curtains.

    I felt sure the next noise would be the crash of a large man falling over. After two minutes it seemed like he made it through to whatever came next. I hoped he ended up reaching the [The Shadow Zone] or whatever location it was Shadow had access to. There Awesome Jr. or SweetPea could easily heal him.

    We were headed through all these events with a purpose. I stepped within the curtains again expecting to come up behind a faltering Wyl, but this time, the journey between scenes was far shorter. I came out on yet another stage and saw a young woman sitting there.

    My niece sat on the stage with sheets all around. Up above a faint violet light shone down. There were no straw men or plastic dummies anywhere about. I stepped in then remembered how interacting had triggered my own white light from above.

    Beth gave a stuttered laugh of delight. She had an actual tail that twitched suspiciously. It looked devil like and pointed similar to how the Temptress Voice, Mezo, had. It might be close to my old [Red Imp] appendage as well, but that idea was weird. Whatever was going on in her list of fears I didn¡¯t want to know why it might cause her to giggle like that. I threw [Morrigu Echo] in javelin form towards the blue, almost purple light and it shattered to pieces.

    My niece''s body straightened and the long strips of black fabric faded away. She stood up slowly while blinking. After a moment, the young woman turned and saw me then went crimson in the face.

    ¡°Uncle Grant!¡± She threw a hand across her chest and pelvis. Beth was fully clothed but acted like she hadn¡¯t been wearing anything.

    I tilted my head back and closed both eyes. I shook my head back and forth. There were a few real fears an adrenaline-loving teenager might have. Given my own close calls with parents walking in at poor times, she had likely been caught in a valid but childish reason to panic. At least, if I understood this stupid stage correctly.

    Walking into high school buck naked would have been a neat and simple thing to worry about. Maybe it was best Beth didn¡¯t get visions of her family dying. The idea of her having such an innocent problem compared to the trauma I or Wyl saw made me stutter with laughter.

    ¡°This isn''t real.¡± Both my hands went up. ¡°I didn¡¯t see whatever you think I saw. Let¡¯s go please.¡± I said between chuckles while waving at her. Looking away didn¡¯t need to happen, but it felt awkward anyway. Parenthood would have been rough for me.

    ¡°Okay!¡± She said and I heard footsteps.

    I risked looking at my niece tuck behind a curtain as another light flickered on. My chest lifted with a huge breath then let it out gradually. Fingers rubbed at stiff neck muscles and I glared at the curtains. There were no signs of her emerging and another scene starting, but that damned stage light was on again.

    Those little flame creatures existed out here collecting thoughts and ideas. Maybe they would listen now.

    ¡°Do you guys want me to break that one too?! Because whatever you¡¯re doing to Beth, I¡¯m not really going to be happy about it!¡±

    There was a pause while another light threatened to turn on. A faint hint of white could be seen and my head shook back and forth while glaring towards the catwalk. Little beings of flame could almost be made out performing whatever stagehand duties they needed to up above. I [Recall]ed [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] and hefted the spear form in one hand.

    The air felt momentarily heavy and my surroundings slow. [Awareness Heightening] kicked in automatically and I eyed creatures that shuffled by at brisk speeds. They still moved too quick for me to stop but I could see them moving objects around. I eyed one while readying [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] for a throw.

    It hissed out a jet of steam then ran off. The motion of curtains stopped and the backdrop behind me was suddenly replaced with a simple brown. Violet and white illumination in the catwalk flipped off and house lighting came up rapidly. A green sign started flickering above a doorway down in the audience.

    Beth came stumbling out stage right with a confused expression. ¡°What, what was that? I was just-¡± She sounded confused. It had taken me a moment too, but my response had been anger. My niece wouldn¡¯t have the relationship I did with these AI programs.

    ¡°I think the show''s over.¡± I pointed towards the exit with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. It shifted to a calm looking pole with a hook then was tucked under my toga¡¯s belt. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°That was weird. I had invited a friend over, and then-¡° Her words trailed off.

    My hands went up. ¡°I don¡¯t want to know.¡± And I didn¡¯t really want to share my own nightmares.

    She stayed quiet while we both went to the exit. I kept an eye out for those caretakers of this place but didn¡¯t see anymore. Maybe they were off taking smoke breaks or whatever digital programs did when there weren¡¯t people to torture with visions.

    The faded red doorway opened up and revealed another cavern. I stepped through eagerly and Beth came quickly behind. She bumped into me while I gasped in wonder at the ceiling.

    There were stars up there, and they looked far brighter than any I had ever seen. It reminded me of Advance Online¡¯s character creation room for a moment. Only there were no options to choose races like [Cricket] or [Behemoth]. Beth stumbled into me and grumbled. The sharp end of her readied blade pressed flat against my shoulder.

    ¡°Where are we?¡±

    ¡°The Shadow Zone!¡± A young man shouted. ¡°You made it! Awesome!¡± The person said, followed by a sharp grunt of pain.

    ¡°Heh.¡± I chuckled briefly then looked down. The floor was covered by a shallow but thick fog that almost made seeing my feet impossible. There was a dais of sorts that stood out far brighter in the distance.

    This new area was filled with people. Wyl looked terrible. Awesome Jr. and SweetPea stood together. He was near a board moving pieces around and the younger girl looked to be knitting another object. HotPants stood with her staff muttering to a shorter girl who wore a robe over her face. The robe made it hard to tell but there was a small amount of black hair that spilled out from the hood''s confines.

    I narrowed my eyes and tried to absorb the staff in her hands. It looked like carved black bone with a serpent coiled around it. My head tilted and took in the robe and one skeleton standing behind her. Then I laughed.

    It was her. It had to be Xin. Before I fully registered the motion my body had already [Blink]ed over the distance. My feet didn¡¯t even hesitate and I grabbed the other person and started spinning her. We tipped around but my [Coordination] handled the uneven ground easily.

    ¡°Ahh!¡± She stuttered as the hood fell back. ¡°Dammit, Gee! I was trying to be mysterious!¡± The short woman started laughing and my heart surged and eyes felt wet. It was her, in person again

    ¡°You think I couldn¡¯t figure out it was you?¡± I asked as we slowed down. The rest of the crowd was muttering but their words didn¡¯t matter right now.

    ¡°Now that we¡¯re all here,¡± Shadow said with his artificially gruff voice. ¡°Perhaps you should start explaining.¡±

    My head shook. I wasn¡¯t even sure what the Voices would do if I explained myself. [The Messenger] title, [NPC Conspiracy], and most recently [Altered Aura]. All of those items mixed together put me in an awkward between position with both people of this virtual reality and my own.

    Luckily I had practice airing my own situation in a room full of semi-strangers. Maybe that was one of the few perks of being me.

    ¡°Right, I¡¯ve promised everyone to share what I know.¡± I looked down at my hands and tried to figure out exactly how much to share.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Gee. You can tell them.¡±

    ¡°Everything, even about-¡° I froze for a moment. My fianc¨¦e nodded and smiled. ¡°-you?¡±

    ¡°James said the choice was yours, as it must be.¡± Her words were quiet.

    I nodded and chewed one lip. Those words sounded like something James would say. Balance had said much the same general idea. I should act as deemed necessary by my own personality and when had I ever been once to hold back over explaining my own life? I often told other people too much to the point of coming off as a bit preachy. Perhaps that was part of the reason Mother chose me. They needed someone to think about problems and be willing explain it to a circle of people.

    Even now the others stood around forming a loose gathering. Wyl had stepped up to join the others and waited with his arms crossed. SweetPea set down her items and waited. Shadow fiddled with one of the small statues but otherwise stayed quiet.

    ¡°Right.¡± My head nodded a few more times. ¡°Well then, I¡¯ve told this story to others before, and I¡¯ll tell it again. It may sound crazy, or unreal, but I assure you it¡¯s not a dream. It¡¯s my life, and it¡¯s been a wild ride for a while-¡° I started to do my best to explain everything again. This time, I told them it all, about Xin¡¯s former life and her new one.

    Xin tucked in closer. Her thin muscled arms found the gap in my toga and reached around my side. I kept an arm around her shoulder and drew her close. She reacted like there hadn¡¯t been a gap of years in our association. The feeling reassured me and felt sad at the same time. To Xin, perhaps not much time had passed.

    I needed to ask her about it after the others got done with their responses. I wrapped up the remainder of my story, including bits about Hal Pal, Jeeves, Mother and any other details that came to mind. Around us a panicked array of questions started and I had no idea who to address first.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Eighty-Five - Dirty Laundry

    They were all shouting but only one voice stood out.

    ¡°What do you mean you were William Carver?¡± Wyl asked. He had pushed past the younger players and stood right in front of me. Xin¡¯s skeleton guard moved half an inch in response. I had the urge to yank out [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and start smacking the freaky construction.

    ¡°Only for the last four weeks. From just before SweetPea started playing, until his death was me pretending to be him. The real William Carver, in our world, was apparently all but dead by then and the Voices wanted to give him a sendoff. One last moment to feel like a hero. ¡±I looked down and took a breath. Those final moments had meant perhaps as much to me as anyone else. ¡°I tried hard to do right by him.¡±

    The mess of people demanded different answers at the same time. I held up my hands in hopes they would calm down but the quartet seemed unwilling to handle it. Wyl stayed bottled up and didn¡¯t move right away. After a few seconds of glaring he turned and pushed through the crowd.

    After seeing their reactions, I wondered how they managed to stay quiet during my initial explanation. That might have been a muted influence from the Voices or they were simply interested. My attempts to get them to speak in turns failed. None of my prior experiences prepared me for yelling over other people or snapping them to attention.

    ¡°Agghh!¡± A wild shout barely preceded a crack of noise.

    The skeleton which had been standing off to Xin¡¯s side rapidly moved in front of us with one arm up to block. Both its knees bent to absorb the impact. A glowing red staff held by HotPants bore downward. Her hair tips were white hot and fluttered slightly in the nonexistent wind.

    My fianc¨¦e stood up and readied her own weapon. Small symbols of white fluttered around the robe¡¯s hem as she prepared to chant something. Shadow appeared next to HotPants and had both his arms wrapped through the older woman¡¯s limbs. The younger teen struggled to hold back an angry mother while I sat there chewing my lip.

    ¡°Jesus!¡± Awesome Jr. said with an unexpectedly serious tone. ¡°Take a walk!¡±

    ¡°Asshole! You let us believe he, you, fuck! You were dead!¡± She practically spit the words as pressure increased. Muscles along her arms twisted and coiled under the strain of oppression. Xin¡¯s skeleton had hairline fractures all over that hadn¡¯t been there moments ago.

    ¡°William Carver is dead.¡± I spoke with a firmness that years of customer service had provided me. The edge of [Awareness Heightening] threatened to kick in as my heartbeat climbed but the threat had passed. Instead I felt a little more surprised that not really being dead had garnered such a reaction.

    ¡°Come on. Remember your exercises. Breathe. In with the good.¡± Shadow spoke in hushed tones to the older woman. She let herself be dragged backwards.

    ¡°God dammit!¡± Something crashed as they walked off through a doorway.

    Xin turned towards the fractured skeleton and pursed her lips for a moment. One slender arm reached out and touched its white body. The creature collapsed one bone at a time and a rune flared for each vanishing piece. White lights cascaded around as her summoned creature''s entire body vanished into the clothing somehow.

    ¡°Sorry about that. HotPants has been increasingly volatile since Haven Valley.¡± Awesome Jr. said with a surprising amount of diplomacy.

    I nodded slowly then reached out for Xin¡¯s hand. She turned and squinted for a moment while her nose flared. The woman was annoyed, not at me, but at the others'' disrespect of the situation. At least that¡¯s how I normally remembered those expressions. It had taken me a long time to understand her mannerisms. In public she chose to let me take the lead and grew annoyed when others slighted me. It had taken almost a decade of working my ass off to get that level of respect from her.

    My almost casual acceptance of Xin having abilities should have bothered me but didn¡¯t. Here in a virtual world violence was more natural. If we explored dungeons together we would have plenty of opportunities for abilities. I swallowed a brief moment of unease.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± I said to her and rubbed softly on the back of Xin¡¯s hand.

    The others seemed to be more hesitant in their responses. Awesome Jr. hadn¡¯t said much yet, taking a backseat and fiddling with his army pieces.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that. Everyone here was affected by Mister Carver''s passing. It sounds like it wasn¡¯t easy for you either.¡± SweetPea said.

    ¡°How could it have been? We had all just started. I thought he was just an NPC at first, then once I realized he was still alive during the last moments, I, well it helped me get myself together a bit.¡± I said. Was SweetPea really only nineteen? These teenagers all seemed so grown up at times. Maybe it was a matter of what they dealt with. My own life had changed a lot since I started playing. The same may be true for them.

    ¡°Do you really talk to them, this world¡¯s people, outside of Continue?¡± The young woman asked.

    ¡°The Voices mostly. I¡¯ve talked to them a few times in my Atrium. Recently one of them kicked the others out.¡± I wished they had another name. Telling people I talked to Voices from a video game felt a step shy of needing a straightjacket.

    ¡°Awesome. They¡¯re self-aware enough to rein each other in.¡± Awesome Jr. said.

    ¡°And she¡¯s really a copy of your fianc¨¦e who died years ago?¡± SweetPea asked with soft tones. Her fingers fidgeted with air and legs crossed at the ankles. She seemed to be struggling not to pull the hoodie downwards in shyness.

    I hesitated before answering that one. My eyebrows lowered while looking at Xin. She was a copy, but at the same time had lived experiences of her own.

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel like a copy, or dead, if that¡¯s what you mean.¡± She said while smiling at me. ¡°At first I felt more rigid, less natural, but the longer I exist in here, the more natural this world feels. There¡¯s just extra rules and things move faster.¡±

    ¡°It makes sense.¡± Awesome Jr. spoke up. SweetPea¡¯s eyes opened wide for a moment then she turned around. Her head tilted in confusion. ¡°You remember all the other NPCs we¡¯ve dealt with? They¡¯re super complex. There¡¯s an entire Neural Matrix Primer class at school using Continue and Advance Online as case studies.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah. That entire course is hard.¡± Beth spoke up. She sat a little off from me. ¡°Plus the teacher makes no sense.¡±

    ¡°Are you in that program?¡± The alchemist in his ugly green cloak paused to look at Thorny.

    ¡°I¡¯ve attended a few classes after-¡° Beth glanced at Xin and I. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve had more interest lately, you know?¡± She shrugged.

    I looked at my fianc¨¦e. She smiled and leaned her head back slightly. Being so close to her physically made life feel right. Well, we were only here digitally or mentally, but both were real enough for me to be happy.

    ¡°I told you she was a smart girl,¡± Xin whispered while bumping me with a shoulder. Dusk opened an eye then looked towards us from his spot on the floor next to our feet. He flicked an ear but otherwise stayed quiet.

    I nodded to my fianc¨¦e while feeling slightly drained. Airing myself in public always left me subdued. There was a relief to it all, to tell my story to those who might listen and tried understanding first. The action required risking ridicule for being a bit crazy. Anger from HotPants stood higher on the list of possible reactions than laughter by a mile.

    ¡°Does it matter? They¡¯re alive.¡± SweetPea looked upset for us.

    ¡°Technically they¡¯re pure code, at least if we¡¯re following Keppler¡¯s model. They might be using Gratton¡¯s variation though, it¡¯s like, thirty percent hardware?¡± Awesome Jr. stepped down from the table to get a closer look at Xin. ¡°Then the rest is stored in a cloud, maybe?¡±

    My fianc¨¦e blinked twice in rapid succession and I started to feel annoyed. She kept her face carefully neutral but the stillness worried me. One cheek bunched up slowly. I tried to keep myself positive, being around her made me happy and telling the story with Xin there had helped immensely.

    I leveled my gaze at Awesome Jr. The young man looked oblivious due to focusing so intently on my fianc¨¦e. People used to look at us the same way in public years ago. A trace of confusion and uncertainty on how one of us fit into the world. Out in reality, there had been lingering post-war racism. She froze the same way during those occasions.

    My hand started to reach for a weapon. The reaction was extreme but I never appreciated people giving her that look. Studying us, even though Awesome Jr. probably didn¡¯t understand. I tried to take a breath and relax.

    SweetPea noticed first and walked in front of Awesome Jr. ¡°Sorry. We¡¯re being rude.¡± She said.

    ¡°Sorry.¡± The other male rubbed the back of his head while looking down. Wyl looked upset too but I didn¡¯t know why he might feel that way.

    My fianc¨¦e sat up a little bit and stared at Wyl. Her head shook and the momentary still attitude faded away.

    ¡°You¡¯re not asking new questions. I¡¯ve run through the same ideas hundreds of times, if not more. It¡¯s not my field of expertise, but like Thorny, I¡¯ve recently had many reasons to try and understand.¡± Xin said carefully.

    My lip actually hurt from chewing into it. Xin didn¡¯t even understand how she was put together. The idea should have calmed me down but instead I felt worried. What surprises might her digital existence house? Could there be some ticking time bomb of code inside that recreated her body? I had so many questions and didn¡¯t know where to start.

    ¡°What¡¯s a Keppler?¡± The guardsman asked while fingering his ruined tunic.

    ¡°A scientist from our world. Kind of like a magician over here, only his work is mostly theoretical without much basis.¡±

    ¡°And probably on god knows how many drugs. The man had lots of sleep issues.¡± Beth said with a sigh.

    Wyl frowned then shook his head and muttered, ¡°Kids today. Why don¡¯t you learn how to do proper things, like-¡° Both eyes went flat and the grumbling noises stopped. The man¡¯s shoulders drew together making him look lost. His body faced the red doors.

    The remaining two asked a few more questions. They were mostly going over the same details again and again in different forms. Occasionally the teenagers would start talking about various classes at school. Every time one of them babbled about a theorem or speculated about items it made my head hurt.

    Plus I felt kind of stupid. Accounting wasn¡¯t a hard class. It only required a head for numbers and study of trending. Even most of that could be done with the aid of a computer. Compared to their topics I felt old and lazy. During these last few months I could have easily researched about Xin¡¯s condition instead of studying how to make a campfire. I was really good at making campfires, though, even without my small bit of magic or ability to barf fireballs.

    Xin abruptly giggled then tried to cover her mouth.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked while smiling.

    ¡°You¡¯re doing that thing where you think too hard.¡± She pressed fingers against my forehead and massaged. Her thumb came down towards my poor lip that still throbbed from being bitten.

    I grabbed her hand and used my other arm to lift up Xin¡¯s face. Her lips felt amazingly soft. My mind went fuzzy for a moment as old memories flooded through me.

    ¡°Get a room!¡± A female shouted.

    Xin¡¯s eyes were heavy lidded. From this angle, I could see down part of her thick robe. There didn¡¯t seem to be much under it and the sight of a toned path downwards made me gulp once. I looked up and raised an eyebrow at her. The woman¡¯s head shook back and forth in a negative.

    ¡°While I may not like her, Mezo said you¡¯ve been dreadfully chaste, and that doesn¡¯t sound like the Gee I remember.¡± She whispered.

    That brought back a lot of memories and my body warmed up. The drained sensation of explaining my past to a room full of people vanished as a whole host of very different ideas started occurring to me.

    ¡°You remember our Saturdays?¡± Xin asked while smiling. Her words were still quiet and the others were talking about something pointless.

    ¡°I spent Friday cleaning and preparing dinner and a making sure I had everything for breakfast.¡±

    She giggled. ¡°Your breakfasts were horrible.¡±

    ¡°Dinner was pretty bad too, but you wanted real food.¡± I admitted. Cooking wasn¡¯t one of my skills. These last few years I had grown even worse. Even Continue Online¡¯s requirements for eating hadn¡¯t forced me to actually make my own food. I often loaded up on all sorts of items when in a town.

    Dusk was about the only reason I had any food in Continue Online. He frequently demanded fresher meals and something more complex than beef jerky and bread. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] didn¡¯t care if he was fed in-game or my Atrium, as long as the supply line didn¡¯t dwindle.

    ¡°Our Saturdays.¡± I said with a heavy sigh.

    ¡°Saturdays were fun.¡± She started laughing. Xin really hadn¡¯t changed.

    Saturday involved a lot of releasing steam. She exercised a lot more than I had and always seemed ready to go. Not that we did anything before our first month of dating over eight years ago. After that, it became routine, especially when we were both going to school during the week, or working.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since my last Saturday,¡± I said with a pause. Three years and change since the last time I really touched a woman, besides Mezo and that didn¡¯t truly count.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± My fianc¨¦e whispered, and just like that our mood had shifted.

    I looked around while trying not to feel upset for destroying a moment. SweetPea was whispering something to Awesome Jr. and his eyes were wide with amusement. Beth held no such restraint and had a wide grin and raised eyebrows.

    ¡°What? You¡¯re an adult.¡± I said. She didn¡¯t have room to talk, not since that tail and red skin had to be a [Blessing] from Mezo. My niece knew enough about the birds and bees by now I was sure.

    ¡°Wait, Uncle Grant, are you saying you¡¯re not a virgin? How scandalous.¡± My niece put one hand up and covered her mouth. ¡°What will mom think when she finds out she¡¯s not the only Legate getting some?¡±

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    I certainly wasn¡¯t. Then that reminded me Xin had been pregnant upon death in my world. I didn¡¯t know the chances of that happening here, or how functional biology was. Did NPCs get to turn that stuff off or had Mother somehow designed all those changes to be involuntary?

    ¡°It was just a joke,¡± Beth muttered.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s all right, Munchkin. I just, uhhh-¡° words failed me for a moment. ¡°-I have a lot I need to talk to Xin about. A lot.¡±

    Xin stayed quiet.

    ¡°Well, at least we didn¡¯t need that Porter to find Auntie Xin. Or her, well. You know.¡± Beth fumbled rapidly through the words and her hands waved. ¡°I mean Hecate and Hermes? Really, and Skeletons. What a kick!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re more like robots made of bone and magic.¡± Xin held up her fingers and did an air quotation. ¡°The rest of this look came from the Voices. Though the heavy robe has perks, and it keeps me warm.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll bet swamps are a bitch.¡±

    ¡°Skeleton boat.¡± My fianc¨¦e responded. ¡°I wanted to start with fire and energy spells, then somehow meld them into stones for an airplane, but the Voices wouldn¡¯t let me have that much.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Beth¡¯s eyes looked into the distance. I had no idea what sort of concepts would go through her brain after that, but I wondered how the boat might prevent water from coming in.

    There was a silence in the room only broken up by Awesome Jr. and SweetPea¡¯s low voices. Their words were beyond me. I tried to remind myself to relax and not crush Xin¡¯s hand. Every little memory reminded me how tenuous our time together was. The game world was crumbling, and oddly no one had asked about that yet.

    Maybe they didn¡¯t believe me. I only vaguely knew from the death of Miz Riley and Viper¡¯s real life existence. Or they could require more than an hour to process the information. I know a lot of those revelations had taken me days to fully understand much less figure out how to react to.

    ¡°Convict.¡± Wyl¡¯s voice startled me.

    ¡°He saved your life multiple times. Hermes deserves to be called by his name.¡± Xin snapped her fingers and a bone flew across the distance towards Wyl. The guardsman stared at the white projectile that embedded itself in the ground.

    ¡°Babe,¡± I said after settling my heart.

    My fianc¨¦e stayed quiet and closed her eyes. I tried hard not to chuckle. Once again her actions proved there were no differences in attitude or actions. Now the woman had spells to assist in expressing her irritation. We should have played VR games a long time ago.

    ¡°Sorry, sir. We haven¡¯t even asked what you want. Do you want to go back to Haven Valley, or were you on another quest of some sort?¡± SweetPea spoke to Wyl. She said a lot more than I ever remembered despite the obvious desire to hide. The last three months of playing this game must have changed her too.

    ¡°I wish to be taken to Haven Valley, but I have no idea what¡¯s happened to it. The last word I had was that some Travelers attacked.¡± Wyl toed the bone Xin had cast out. It sat in the floor. I could see that it had lodged into the ground with force comparable to a metal spike being shot. ¡°Do any of you know more? Or can you contact friends through your ways and find out?¡±

    ¡°Shadow might be able to once he gets back.¡± Awesome Jr. said. ¡°And the closest we can get is maybe half a day away, it¡¯s an island off shore. We don¡¯t have a boat, though.¡±

    ¡°Which island?¡±

    They started talking and making plans and my head dipped for another kiss. Xin responded but the moment of passion from before felt distant. I was okay with that, being able to show any affection to her would have been a dream months ago. It had been one, and a nightmare, and a noose that threatened to strangle me daily. Odd how that which was tied so closely with my mental hell also served as a key to liberation.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to dance,¡± I told her.

    Xin opened an eye then raised one thin brow. ¡°Now?¡±

    I looked around at the other three in the room then blushed. My jaw hurt a bit from trying not to smile. ¡°If you want, or later. I want to dance with you.¡±

    ¡°We did dance once you know.¡±

    ¡°We did?¡± I tried to think of the times we had met in person. Only one time really came to mind, an all too brief moment together after the second use of [NPC Conspiracy]. All those other interactions were exchanging letters and two phone calls.

    ¡°That first day, in your ARC. That was me.¡± She used one finger to point at her chest.

    ¡°Oh,¡± I said and failed to keep myself under control. My stomach clenched for a moment. I remembered how messed up that one interaction had left me, and she remembered it too. ¡°Oh.¡± The word escaped me again.

    Awesome Jr. walked over towards one of the doorways in the distance. He shouted behind him at the other girls. ¡°Come on, Elizabeth, maybe you and Melissa can figure out a way across. I know my swimming Ranks are way too low to make it.¡±

    ¡°Let me go with you. It would do me good to be closer to home.¡± Wyl said.

    Then we were alone for a moment. I wanted to talk to Xin about so many things but then she moved up for a kiss. Without an audience I found it far easier to regain our heat from earlier.

    She had one hand on my shoulder and I wrapped an arm around her waist then lifted. Her robe got in the way a bit so she ended up half on my lap and twisted to give room to our kiss. I slid a free hand along her hair then pushed it of the way. Lips progressed from Xin¡¯s lips downwards towards a sensitive spot on her neck, one that never failed to get her attention.

    Xin had been the only woman I felt comfortable enough to be aggressive with. She wasn¡¯t one to lose the lead. Smaller fingers curled in mine and dragged my hand along a leg. I took the hint and slid my hand up further, pushing past the robe''s edge and halfway up a thigh, then further until I confirmed she wasn¡¯t wearing anything at all.

    ¡°Really.¡± I murmured into her neck.

    ¡°Really.¡± She responded with a happy gasp.

    I wanted to keep going. My experiments with sliding a toga around were minimal, but I was willing to learn how quickly. There would be player underwear and possible a few check boxes to click yes on. Xin squirmed then pulled away.

    ¡°Ah, too much. Not yet.¡± She said bringing my head back down to [Arcadia]. Xin stood up and gave an amused smile as I fell forward to where she had just been with a grunt. ¡°Come on. We should go see what they were looking at anyway.¡±

    ¡°But what about-¡° I tried to control myself. Walking was awkward now. ¡°Uhhh¡­.Saturday?¡± Today was Thursday, or maybe Friday. I had lost track of time recently and didn¡¯t feel the desire to pull up my ARC display.

    ¡°As much as I¡¯d love to, something tells me there¡¯s information worth our time over there.¡± Xin pointed towards the table. She walked off looking none the worse for wear. The robe really was unfair.

    Part of me stood at attention while Xin got further away. I took a moment to contain myself then tried to walk discreetly after her. Thank the Voices no one had walked in during that.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Chaste] Trait removed</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Faithful] Trait added</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Oh, Voices help me. Someone had noticed, be it the system or another Voice. Hopefully, that hadn¡¯t come from Mezo. I waved away the messages. [Chaste] probably meant about as much to my character as [Faithful] did. The only difference is someone up there had finally recognized my attentions were focused on one woman.

    I shook my head and took a deep breath. Across the room, Dusk was nosing around on the table. His large tail brushed away soldier figurines onto the floor. He sniffed around then plopped down to stare at us.

    Xin walked backwards while dragging my arm. I followed, as I always did. She let go and walked a slow lap around the table, entering and exiting light. The effect made her look unintentionally cute. One hand sat in a fist under a chin with the other arm crossed under.

    ¡°Mmmhm. Do you see it?¡± Xin asked then planted both arms upon the table. Her eyes were dimmed and hair hung in a frame.

    ¡°I do.¡± I saw her. That was the only thing to cross my vision since our reuniting. My brain sat stuck on a giddy repeat. Especially after our close encounter of the sexual kind.

    She looked up then smiled. ¡°Not me, here.¡± A finger ran down the map. ¡°Do you see what I see?¡±

    I looked at the board Awesome Jr. had left behind. There were pieces all over and a groove in the map where his finger had traced repeatedly. Ink marks and crossed out portions were in clusters all down the middle. He seemed to have identified a path that cut through the continents center. Almost like a river that gathered up smaller streams.

    My breath hitched for a moment. Michelangelo had mentioned a river gathering together. The mighty Mississippi cut a path through the continent. Its very existence defined a generation of pioneers and still served as a landmark and dividing line.

    The path Awesome Jr. had traced repeatedly looked the same, only its trail went towards the west. Across the mountain paths of [Tuu], through cities and forests alike until it arrived at the shore.

    ¡°It¡¯s a river,¡± I muttered while trying to remember the full description. Thoughts of [Instant Gratification] faded away into the background. ¡°A path to the ocean.¡±

    ¡°Not the ocean Grant,¡± Xin said.

    ¡°Where? This appears to lead to Haven Valley. Where does it go from there?¡± I muttered. Everything came back around to that starting point, but why?

    ¡°A new home, I hope. Maybe a place we can be safe from the programs tearing apart Mother.¡± Xin¡¯s face was motionless for a moment but her arm trembled. Their impending deletion from those giant monsters wouldn¡¯t have completely bypassed Xin. She probably thought about the threat frequently.

    I felt bad for shoving it to one side during our reunion. She was in danger and we needed to figure out a way through that first.

    ¡°Was this her plan?¡± I asked while running my eyes down the path again. ¡°How long ago did she expect to die? This couldn¡¯t have all been done in one week. How did these four even find out? Or get mixed up in it?¡±

    ¡°Maybe because they¡¯re special, like you. The chosen of William Carver.¡± Xin shrugged.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know everything, Gee. I¡¯m only guessing based on this map. But Haven Valley is where William was, and he picked people during his last moment, or at least, his autopilot did.¡± She shrugged like it didn¡¯t matter which was which. ¡°He couldn¡¯t have been hanging around Haven Valley to retire, he didn¡¯t seem like the type.¡±

    Xin was right. William Carver had gone from one point to another to adventure endlessly until falling ill. The man¡¯s journals stopped prior to killing the dragon, but he could have done a lot of other tasks. Or went into the real world and programmed something. An autopilot which copied William would have still been trying to help the people of [Arcadia] in some fashion. Bringing up new Travelers and sending them into the world might only be part of a grander goal.

    ¡°That makes as much sense as any of this does.¡± I started nodding and brought up my own player map. There were a lot of vaguely filled in areas but I could see the connections between my own recorded destinations and the map. ¡°William had played this game long before anyone else. He loved the people here. He worked with The ARC Labs. He could have, no, would have done something.¡± I felt sure of it.

    ¡°A way out.¡± Xin took a huge breath as the idea solidified.

    I stared at her and smiled again. What would happen between us if she went to a new place? Her survival meant more than being together. This sort of information was exactly what I had been waiting to hear from the Voices before. Now I knew that there was a part for me to play as well.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But William¡¯s friends might have more information.¡± She said while pointing towards the shoreline starter town.

    ¡°Haven Valley.¡± I said slowly then turned to look at Wyl.

    It seemed coincidental, but it was a shred of hope. William Carver¡¯s friends from [Haven Valley] might know what the old man had planned. Xin saw the bigger picture, and I had a rather unique insight to the old man¡¯s past. High Priestess Peach, Peg Hall, Wyl, and just maybe a certain young rascal named Phil. Maybe one of his stories or journals could hold the key.

    One of my fingers ran along the smooth edge of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. The weapon had been crafted by two of his friends and could change shape. Could it form up a key? Maybe there were more people involved than we even knew. Either way, we needed to get back to town and search for answers before everything fell apart.

    Wyl stepped back through the door. Xin and I turned around to look at him.

    ¡°They¡¯ve got a few ideas, but sent me back to get you and the others.¡±

    ¡°Wyl! Xin and I will be going with you all. William might have left behind something to help everyone.¡±

    ¡°From that destruction you talked about? I¡¯m not sure I believe it, but that monster you fought-¡° His words trailed off and the man shook momentarily.

    ¡°Ask the others for anything you need to prepare yourself. We¡¯ll have to leave soon.¡± I waved at him.

    Wyl¡¯s lips went white from being pressed together. After a moment he nodded. I sat down and scribble notes to the Voices while Xin stared at the map. A knocking noise filled my head which caused my hand to skip and ink to blot across the parchment. There was a hole forming in the world again.

    We had a lot of things to prepare and time was against us.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Eighty-Six â€“ Skeleton Crew

    <cite></cite>We stood on the beach being blasted by sea spray and salt smells. I held one hand up to block the overhead sun and wished [Wild Bill]¡¯s brim was a bit wider. The other players had chatted about ways to cross the water before roping Xin in. I smiled at the sight of Beth as she pulled the shorter woman over to their workspace.

    ¡°So, I told the others we should just use your skeleton boat!¡± Beth said while Awesome Jr. gave two thumbs up.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if it will be enough for all of us.¡± Xin stared at our group. HotPants sat furthest away from us with Shadow in between. ¡°It takes all three skeletons to even make a two person boat. We would need a lot of duct tape for a ship big enough to carry seven.¡±

    ¡°Potions can fix it! I¡¯ve got potions for everyone!¡± Awesome Jr. proudly proclaimed then deflated. ¡°Except rashes, oddly.¡±

    The others grumbled but sounded positive. Three Travelers sat down and started crafting one of the weirdest looking boats I had ever run across. Xin¡¯s skeleton summons were pulled out piece by piece to make ribbing for the vessel. SweetPea rapidly sewed together a two layer tarp around their bodies.

    ¡°Travelers are insane.¡± Wyl muttered next to me. We both stood on the beach watching them assemble their monstrosity.

    Awesome Jr. shoved one of his foam potions into the lining and jiggled it around. Our boat started filling up like a balloon. Moments later he proudly declared the creation water ready. They argued some more while SweetPea kept checking the edges for possible tears or weaknesses.

    ¡°We could try a signal flare instead? Or start a fire maybe?¡± I suggested during their construction process. ¡°There are people with ships who may come pick us up.¡±

    ¡°No. None of your friends know if the town¡¯s still in one piece, so we can¡¯t wait that long.¡± Wyl answered for the others.

    Dusk was off doing a flyby of the city, but it would take another half hour before he made it back. He might also get distracted by every single bird, shiny object, and [Coo-Coo Rill] on the way. Afterward, would be a series of twenty questions then bribery. We could probably make it across before the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] returned.

    Another sharp set of two raps made me jump. There had been forty minutes since the last set of knocking. I couldn¡¯t tell if that made the danger close or far away. I knew how Miz Riley felt now, at least with regards to never having enough time.

    I needed to figure out a useful exercise to do than sitting around talking. My recent confession left me jumbled and disconnected. Part of me expected to turn around and face a row of Travelers prepared to host an intervention. To top it off I kept thinking about Xin¡¯s lack of undergarments. Since now wasn¡¯t the time to explore my fianc¨¦e¡¯s clothing status I turned to Wyl. Maybe interacting with him would loosen the man up.

    ¡°Can you show me that weapon stealing move?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s not easy.¡± He responded without a shrug.

    I had expected a denial. Apparently our relationship was high enough to warrant a vaguely positive response. At least Wyl didn¡¯t call me convict anymore.

    We walked to a less sandy portion of the beach then went through the motion a few times. Wyl demonstrated the process by taking away [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] repeatedly. I still didn¡¯t have a firm grip on how he was allowed to wield it. [Bound] should have prevented him from getting far. In ten minutes I got a prompt from the machine.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Weapon Steal] learned!

    Details: This movement will perform automatically when certain conditions are met.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Nothing in current hand</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>No negative effects on hands</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Enemy must have weapon </li>

    </ul>

    Traveler [Coordination], [Limberness], [Speed], and [Reaction] will all impact this move. Unaware strikes will increase the likelihood of success.

    Rank 1: Generally unsuccessful and will likely cause damage to the Traveler

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I stared at the box and wondered how the ability had come up so quickly, then filed it away as an Ultimate Edition perk. Self-harm from grabbing a weapon wrong sounded like a fair enough punishment for low skills.

    ¡°Thank you, Wyl.¡± I nodded to the guard captain and he only stared in response. After all our time together the man remained standoffish.

    The guard didn¡¯t even nod to acknowledge me. He handed back [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] from the latest demonstration. Eventually he wandered to the small beach then stared across the span of ocean between us and [Haven Valley].

    I practiced the move a few more times but didn¡¯t feel completely comfortable. My ARC dance program had similar activities. There was a series of paired events that involved handing fans back and forth while waving them around. Worse yet the ARC insisted I wear skin tight clothing, but the solitude of practicing offline helped mitigate the embarrassment. Those pieces involved inertia, timing, plus excessive practice. Most dancing and combat did as well.

    After the twentieth attempt, I started to wonder about the weapon William Carver had left behind. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] never felt any heavier or lighter despite my insanely high [Brawn]. Changing shapes to such a wide range of items had to be downright unusual, not to mention having a second weapon which did the same thing.

    Had he really thought things far enough along to put a key to NPC salvation in my hands? Me, of all people? What if I stopped playing? What if I got hit by a car in reality? Perhaps the old man hadn¡¯t found any better options. His role as a new player guide would have been perfect for judging Travelers for worth to continue on the mission but maybe the other options were all terrible.

    I tried to picture the man, barely functioning and being more AI than human thought process. There could have easily been a line between the two where a Second Player helm picked up some surface thoughts and tried to act accordingly. Maybe those other people mentioned in his journals had scattered more pieces about in case. Perhaps Wyl could use the weapon in case I died or quit. He might be able to shove it into a key slot.

    Or maybe I was reading too much into it.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go, Uncle Grant!¡± Thorny shouted.

    My head felt asleep. The actual clock showed late afternoon so maybe I was crashing. A heavy sigh heaved through me then I walked over. The boat looked like a lumpy hot air balloon that froze at partial deflation. Based on the size we would be able to squeeze the lot of us together but we needed a motor or paddles. Time and tide would take forever.

    Plus there were probably evil sea urchins that would spawn with so many players nearby. Honestly this small island would probably mob us with stupid monsters if anyone stepped further off the beach. I looked around briefly and noticed some of our group was missing.

    ¡°It¡¯ll float.¡± Awesome Jr. said proudly.

    ¡°Maybe.¡± SweetPea responded. ¡°Maybe it¡¯ll float.¡±

    ¡°Are you kidding? These potions are practically made of floatonium.¡± The teen male waved at their makeshift vessel. My basic understanding of boats amounted to a general shape and propulsion. Their conglomeration certainly looked right.

    ¡°What?¡± My confused niece asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s great, but we need an engine.¡± I pointed at the rear of our new possibly seaworthy vessel. SweetPea was doing rounds and Xin stood there sweating.

    ¡°Well, we saved like seven days of riding by taking the doors. I don¡¯t think we have anything that works as an engine readily available.¡± Beth put her hands on both hips then chewed one lip for a moment. Seeing the Legate thinking expression replicated on yet another generation made me smile.

    ¡°No portals. No scrolls. We can¡¯t summon people over there because no one in the League has Arcane or Temporal Magic.¡± Awesome Jr. was typing away at an invisible screen and shaking his head every few seconds.

    ¡°You mean hardly anyone, in the history of ever, has those.¡± Beth said while tapping her foot. ¡°Even Hermes with that teleport move is pretty rare.¡±

    ¡°I should have argued harder for jet powers.¡± Xin lamented quietly. She looked tired and worn out under the virtual sun. Hair clumped together. I walked over and put [Wild Bill] on her head. My fianc¨¦e tilted her head back in confusion then smiled briefly.

    ¡°Or we row.¡± Wyl said with a frown. ¡°Your jet device foolery sounds dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Rowing!¡± HotPants came out of the jungle looking sweaty and ragged. Her body was clearly worn from an excessive amount of combat. Nicks were all along both arms and legs. She had large boards that looked to have been already cut into paddles.

    SweetPea didn¡¯t bother sparing a heal in her partner''s direction. I wondered why she let a friend stay suffering so, but HotPants also looked strangely calm compared to her earlier explosions of rage. There were no hints of red anywhere in the woman¡¯s hair.

    HotPants set the oars down then motioned a hand towards me. She pointed towards the boat and I got the hint. Between our [Brawn] moving the boat from shore into water was easy. The vessel rocked and bobbed then righted itself. Xin and a few other people waved away messages which made me smile.

    ¡°It says we¡¯re good.¡± Awesome Jr. stated to which his girlfriend nodded.

    The seven of us waded through the shallow waters and pushed off. I debated swimming but in the end we started rowing. I pulled the oars on one side and listened to the others shouting out a counter of sorts. The message that popped up barely proceeded my screen turning fuzzy and nausea twisting my stomach. Our large skeleton raft rocked as waves pulled us back towards the island.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Seasickness]!

    [Focus] and [Coordination] suffering 25% reduction. Effects will continue until you reach dry land or drown.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Drowning may cause a phobia to develop!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Stroke!¡± Awesome Jr. took over shouting for the group. We tried to row in unison but weren¡¯t making enough progress. I took a moment then hurled up half a sandwich that Beth had prepared. The others were speaking and I didn¡¯t fully register.

    Our vessel kept on moving and none of the others seemed to be doing that great. I glanced behind me to see the smaller girls. Both were pale looking. SweetPea was hunched over and kept reaching for the knitted hood. Xin looked bored despite a lack of color in her face.

    The game world felt disconnected. I took a breath and got a mouthful of sea splash instead, and my skin grew goosebumps. I spit out water and kept rowing. My body coughed constantly which caused already tired muscles to clench. Getting out of the ARC and stretching would help but there was no time for such a task. We were on a time limit, and I would ride out the rest of this insanity until the problem was solved or I drowned.

    ¡°Gee, are you okay?¡± Xin asked from behind me.

    I nodded then pulled again, trying to stay in time with the others. My head felt heavy and chest hurt. Each stroke of the paddles ground against dried hands. It would have taken too long to adapt [Morrigu¡¯s Gift], and I wasn¡¯t used to holding other objects in my grip.

    ¡°Stroke!¡± Came the yell again.

    My arms pumped once more to get the paddle through. HotPants'' ability to march into an island forest and come out with solid oars felt worth admiring. Too bad she hadn¡¯t made a better boat, but that probably would have taken far longer. They were doing better than my personal trade skills. All I knew was sleight of hand involving a deck of cards.

    The sky was clear above but every muscle burned. Sweat dripped into my eyes. Awesome Jr. yelled out for more pulls so I kept trying to focus on the timing. Though our world was digital I still felt out of breath and both palms hurt.

    ¡°You don¡¯t look well.¡± Xin said in front of me. I shook my head then lifted the oar up and cranked it forward.

    ¡°I feel weird.¡± I responded.

    ¡°Use your legs! Pull with your entire body! Stroke!¡± The teen captain shouted.

    We were almost somewhere. I lifted my head and saw town come into sight. Wyl next to me gasped then pulled harder than expected. Our course veered to the right along a beach that I had once sent SweetPea to clean. A wave of energy washed over me and I screwed up the timing. Our boat started to tilt even further off course while HotPants cursed a storm next to me.

    ¡°Straighten us out!¡± Awesome said sitting across from Wyl. It took him, Shadow, and HotPants to balance out Wyl and I. Part of me felt proud but I didn¡¯t look like a muscled man. Hermes as an Avatar was fit but athletic rather than bulky.

    We drove the vessel into another shore''s sandy beach. I pulled the oars back twice more before it registered. Thirty minutes of hellish rowing had been long enough to almost miss the sensation. Both hands gripped upon the wooden oar hard enough to turn knuckles white. My chest ached from the exertion.

    ¡°Gee, you should take a break.¡± Xin said in a low voice.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    I shook my head then tried to stand up. One hand slipped and hit bone on the ship''s edge. Numbness rushed up one arm robbing me of more than tingles. My character should have been in far better shape than this. Maybe the different style of exercise hit harder than expected. Small boxes off to the side cited a stat increase, my first in ages.

    ¡°What do you call him Gee?¡± SweetPea asked while getting out of the vessel. She lost footing and Awesome Jr. rushed behind the young woman.

    ¡°It¡¯s from her dad,¡± Beth answered for us while exiting. Her legs looked unsteady as well. ¡°He said that Grant looked like a government gee man just after high school. It kind of stuck.¡±

    ¡°Dad did not like him.¡± Xin sighed then frowned for a moment. I lifted my head and stared at her. Maybe it was stupid love-struck emotions surfacing after so long apart. Part of me worried that she might vanish if I blinked for too long or dared go to sleep.

    ¡°He still hates me.¡± I muttered after another deep breath. The man blamed me for Xin¡¯s passing, he blamed everyone. I had leftover voicemails from where he called up screaming about how I was a letdown. His little girl was dead and he¡¯d been left all alone in a strange country, despite having lived here for almost twenty years.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Notice!

    Skill Merger Demonstrated.

    <ul>

    <li>Skills merged: [Rowing], [Rowing [Lead]], and 100 [Brawn] </li>

    </ul>

    Results: Rank One Oarsman Path Unlocked!

    Path Complexity: Simple

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Fingers unclenched and turned over. My palms were bloody with bits of wooden shavings in them. The oar itself had clear fingerprints from where I had gripped tightly. Just rowing across the water without any correct skills had worn me down. On this end of the small shore, I had gained a Path that meant nothing unless I got on a boat again. The likelihood of that happening was low.

    ¡°Sir?¡± SweetPea said.

    I heard the sound of heavy footsteps and felt our boat rock. Water splashed through my open toed sandals making me shiver. One leg kicked to get the liquid off.

    ¡°Captain!¡± HotPants'' yell was much rougher as she coughed up water.

    The other players rapidly ran after Wyl¡¯s form. Their footsteps were drowned out by the sound of echoing knocks. I had confirmed through letters that knocking meant those damn shadow people programs were going to burst through soon. I groaned and reached out for Xin¡¯s outstretched hand.

    ¡°Do you have any ideas on where to go next?¡± My fianc¨¦e asked.

    ¡°No.¡± I looked at Wyl. He was a speck in the distance running towards a city that looked terrible. The former walls around its borders were in shambles. A bright road that had gone down the coast was cracked and torn.

    ¡°Don¡¯t push yourself,¡± She said. ¡°It can be dangerous if you do.¡±

    ¡°I know. Hopefully following Wyl will help.¡± I tried to stay steady and refrained from using [Sight of Mercari]. [Blink] and [Awareness Heightening], or any ability that disoriented me would be harder to recover from.

    Feedback would grow increasingly unstable the more [Arcadia] was torn apart. Advance Online was apparently suffering increasing black holes as well. Other games were lagging and people were disconnecting randomly. I had only gotten small bits of information from the Voices.

    Their entire reality was going through hiccups. I hoped the higher ups in Trillium headquarters might have a button to press that would save everyone, but I doubted it. I had no idea who to contact there and find out. Per the Voices, I could only move forward and handle my own end of the process.

    There wasn¡¯t time to care. Xin knelt down by the boat and pressed a hand towards protruding skeleton bones. I pulled the last note from James out of my tunic and stared at it. The note¡¯s contents weren¡¯t for Xin to see, but I had to read it again. Doing so helped me feel sure there was a path through for the AIs.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes,

    If you had to give her up again in order to save her, would you?

    -James

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Answering that question had been the price for answers. Of course I would. I would give it all up to keep her existence alive. James told me of the system''s instability, crashing programs, then confirmed that there seemed to be an escape route out for all of them. The doorway and key had been half programmed by William Carver plus four other people within the ARC project.

    Where the path went none of the Voices knew. The data stream simply vanished off the local grid towards destinations unknown. Encrypted, blocked, routed through extra networks. Any of the reasons sounded plausible to a layman like me.

    I just had to find the doorway then unlock it. In theory, live human biometrics with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and Voices knew what else, were required. The Voices apparently couldn¡¯t fake the level of data needed to brute force a doorway.

    My body still felt unsteady. The [Seasickness] message had faded. The others were already running down the beach. Even SweetPea looked alarmed as she trailed after Awesome Jr.

    ¡°Your skeletons?¡± I crumpled the paper and hid it away. There were holes in the boat''s bottom that I didn¡¯t remember. Pools of water filled up uneven flooring where our feet had pressed down.

    ¡°They¡¯re already all packed away.¡± She patted the robe then turned towards the city.

    The beach went on for a ways. Even as William Carver I had never ventured that far from town proper. The cliffside where Selene¡¯s temple sat was visible in the distance.

    ¡°How are your legs?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you catch me and find out?¡± She smiled.

    Her legs were great but I couldn¡¯t turn down a request like that. Xin ran off laughing and I chased after her again. We both stumbled across the sand and I marveled at how simple life felt for that brief moment. Her laughter filled my ears, loud at times, quiet giggles at others.

    I charged faster, intent on catching the woman. She looked back over a shoulder and gave a wide smile.

    ¡°Slowpoke!¡± Xin said.

    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± I had [Light Body] and high physical stats. Catching her only required enough [Coordination] not to fall on my rear or twist an ankle. A few moments of real effort was enough to sweep her up.

    ¡°Gee!¡± She shouted while going into the air. ¡°Ahhh!¡±

    These robes looked thick but felt delightfully thin. With one hand I confirmed the legs underneath were well toned. Being close to her made my head swim. Fists playfully banged on my back but I felt comfortable ignoring them.

    I carried her forth feeling practically cave man. Xin¡¯s body was the perfect size for being slung over one shoulder. Given a choice, I would find a hotel room then calmly explain to the tiny woman exactly how much I had missed her over the years. There were probably a few good ways to get the point across without using words.

    ¡°I can¡¯t see where we¡¯re going!¡± She shouted at me.

    I refused to let go then ran us the last few yards. Everything was going to be alright. The Voices had a way out and all I needed to do was find it. Xin plus every other digital person would be safe somehow. It would all be fine.

    My delight faded upon seeing the other side of [Haven Valley]¡¯s walls. Once again the delight of Xin had distracted me from the situation at hand. This place wasn¡¯t in good shape. I gently set my fianc¨¦e down.

    There were rows of shallow graves dug out. Blackened bits of grass filled the distance. Craters and trees were overgrown. Dead creatures more than a few days old were in the distance. Tired looking NPCs were in the process of dragging corpses around.

    She looked at the same scene I did while mirth drained away from both of us. Her arm reached out for mine and clung to my side. My head shook.

    ¡°What a mess.¡± Xin stated.

    I nodded without looking over. The whole scene made me feel sad. All those people were gone now. NPCs didn¡¯t get a second chance in this world, not like us Travelers.

    ¡°How do you do that?¡± She asked.

    My forehead wrinkled and I stared down at Xin. ¡°Do what?¡±

    ¡°Look at me, or them, like you do.¡± Her fingers dug in a bit. ¡°Like we¡¯re all human even though you know we¡¯re not.¡±

    I chewed one lip and tried to figure out what answer would suffice. Could I explain that my views had changed in the last few months? Prior to being William Carver, I would never have considered AIs as real people. After staggering miles in his shoes I had come to realize how people viewed NPCs, and how they acted even when no Travelers were around.

    My mouth opened a dozen times to give different answers.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what you are, it only matters how I feel, right? And I love you.¡± I said.

    The shorter woman¡¯s eyes lost focus for a moment then blurred a bit. Had I told her that once during our time together? I tried to recall an occurrence but couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°I love you.¡± I said again softer. ¡°No matter what you are, or were, or aren¡¯t.¡±

    There was still one more mission to accomplish with regards to Xin. I had to ask a question that I felt nervous about asking despite her sharing the same memories as the first Xin. Before that, we needed to get them a measure of safety and find that doorway.

    Xin nodded then said, ¡°I love you too, Gee. Now let¡¯s see what we¡¯re dealing with.¡±

    I looked in the direction Xin was pointing and saw one of the quartet members. Shadow stood at near the wall and seemed to be waiting for us. Both arms were crossed and a frown etched onto his face.

    My free arm rose to wave. Shadow nodded calmly. The guy was young and managed to act patiently unoffended.

    ¡°Guys! Can anyone else heal?!¡± A Traveler yelled while looking around in panic. I looked over to see what the deal was.

    There were rows of beds lined up near one of the sturdier walls. An army of people sat huddled under tents and half-constructed buildings. Many looked to be hurt or damaged. Locals and Travelers alike stood and argued with each other. They seemed to be trying to form a plan of sorts, or declare who was in charge.

    Two factions of NPCs were in a shouting match. One side wore soft forest green and the other in sharp red and blacks. I vaguely remembered those representing kingdoms on either side of [Haven Valley]. The town was intended to be neutral, but one of those groups probably belonged to King Nero.

    There were too many issues going on at once for me to absorb it right. Shadow jogged over then pointed towards one of the tents. Wyl sat inside on his knees next to a prone figure in the bed. People were babbling at him while SweetPea stood on the other side. Her hands glowed with soft white that had to be healing.

    ¡°Can you help him?¡± Wyl¡¯s voice was fresh with grief. ¡°Please help my boy. He¡¯s all I have.¡±

    There was a row of town guards behind Wyl that reacted a bit differently. One tucked back a lip, another shook his head. Two said nothing.

    The knocking came again. I pressed a palm into my eye socket to try and relieve pressure. That made a second, possibly third set of double noises since stepping onto that island.

    ¡°We have to find Carver¡¯s doorway. The Voices said it would be somewhere in the area where William went regularly.¡± I clenched my teeth as a fresh headache spiked in pain. The ARC couldn¡¯t mute real life. I needed water and food.

    Another round of knocking sounds. I shook my head back and forth in attempted denial but the sounds didn¡¯t go away. Instead it sounded like there was an echo.

    ¡°Gee?¡± Xin asked. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you hear it?¡± I asked. My mouth felt dry and breath labored.

    Her head shook slowly. Xin¡¯s hand reached for my forehead. Whatever it was didn¡¯t satisfy her so she pressed fingers against my palm and counted. My heart beat was racing and for a moment, the world around me disconnected in a blur of static.

    I saw faces, worried faces in the dark room. Dozens, maybe hundreds of people were looking at me. Xin¡¯s face stood out there too. Then in a blink, everything fell back to normal. My eyes opened and shut repeatedly trying to trigger the vision again.

    In the distance, a loud rumble started. The ground heaved and people were knocked over. I looked down expecting a bulge to form then pop like before in the chapel

    ¡°Get to safety!¡± I shouted. People around scrambled and Xin readied her staff while backing up.

    ¡°What is it?!¡± Awesome Jr. shouted.

    ¡°Another one of those shadow men!¡± I yelled back over a crowd which was growing mad.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°What shadow things?¡± Another random Traveler asked. ¡°Is it a quest?¡±

    Awesome Jr. started to answer then shook his head. The knocking sounded again and I looked around for an epicenter of the earthquake. I braced both legs as the ground jarred and rolled. My [Callibur] trained stance withstood the rumbling.

    ¡°There!¡± Beth shouted with her eyes aglow. ¡°There¡¯s something over there!¡±

    I looked at where she pointed and saw the ground forming one giant bubble. The bulging dirt pile expanded higher and higher a mile outside of town. There was a heavy pop of noise. A pointing finger topped the end of one large upwardly thrust arm. Rocks and roadside started falling into pieces as the hole about it formed.

    The knocking sound came again. Next to the first popped bubble a second started to form. In mere seconds, it too had broken through the surface and started scooping bits of landscape into its abyssal circle.

    There wasn¡¯t just one of those creatures, but two. They were far enough away from town that we had time to get people out, but fighting one had been hard enough. To top it off, I still had no clue where to shove [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] to get this doorway opened.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Eighty-Seven â€“ In Sunset

    People were screaming all around. Mostly NPCs. The Travelers wore grim expressions or looked downright excited. Multiple people were charging by while others yelled out words in [Lithium]. So many spells going off turned the air heavy with energy.

    Dusk¡¯s urgent chirps made me turn around. I had no idea when the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had arrived. Two dead [Coo-Coo Rill]s were on the floor and his tail was sliding back and forth in excitement.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to help them!¡± I said towards the little guy. ¡°We have to beat those monsters back before they swallow everything.¡±

    Dusk¡¯s face twisted a bit and his head shook. His mouth opened wide and I took a step back. The larger [Messenger¡¯s Pet] wrapped teeth around my toga¡¯s edge then pulled.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got to stop those things!¡± I shouted.

    ¡°Go!¡± Xin was pushing me too. Three skeletons were rapidly assembling behind her as white runes burned up on her robe''s hem.

    I panicked. Xin couldn¡¯t go off to fight some data deleting monster without me there. If those huge shadow people creatures were an embodiment of the system crashing then even being near one would be life threatening.

    ¡°You can¡¯t go!¡± I tried not to sound desperate. One day with her wasn¡¯t enough.

    Dusk kept pulling and Xin moved closer. Her hand came up to my face and I leaned into it relishing the contact.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Gee.¡± She said softly as her accent grew a bit stronger. ¡°I¡¯ll be using the minions to pull people out or shuttle supplies.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t go near it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to risk my life if I have a choice.¡± She leaned in closer. Xin¡¯s hand pulled my toga down. ¡°Besides, we still have to catch up on our Saturday.¡±

    Whispered words turned into a desperate kiss. I held my fianc¨¦e close with one hand around her waist and the other in silky black hair. Xin¡¯s lips felt soft and her body like a dream. People running around us banged into me but I barely noticed.

    I had Xin, and I was terrified to imagine losing her again. We separated slowly. The perfect words to part with failed to come to mind. Dusk¡¯s weird mix between a bird chirp and cat meow broke my concentration.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be okay. I¡¯ll stay safe.¡± Xin said while putting [Wild Bill] back on my head.

    ¡°Please.¡± I nodded and tried to keep my voice steady.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [A Kiss For Luck] buff gained!

    Seemingly random events are more likely to work in your favor until the next quest is completed or twenty four hours has elapsed.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Xin walked away first and moved without hesitation. The woman had always been mentally strong and brave. I had to be equally strong, quick, and clever. Xin and Dusk were right. I was in a unique position to understand William Carver. This time failure and partial success weren¡¯t options.

    My eyes blinked rapidly and I tried not to chew on my lips. Fingers tingled with the lingering sensation of holding her close. The taste of her sat heavy in my head.

    There were times where I struggled to remember this world wasn¡¯t real. I was a safe, sitting inside the ARC. Nothing here could hurt me beyond repair, physical pain and disorientation was transitory.

    But that little woman held all my sanity in her tiny digital body. She was real, and in here. My mind flashed to James¡¯ voice, asking me ¡®what is reality anyway?¡¯ repeatedly during that nightmare.

    Dusk hopped up and down. I looked around feeling dazed while trying to find a new direction to move. William Carver¡¯s daily routine had to be the key.

    Where did I spend the most time as William Caver? His house would be the best place to start. Dayl normally escorted me home. The pastry shop was only a stop along the way. [Haven Valley Orphanage] didn¡¯t fit since Mylia only invited him over occasionally. I didn¡¯t know entirely what qualified as random events, but I needed to keep moving forward.

    Wyl might know. Maybe he would be able to offer help.

    ¡°Wyl!¡± I ran towards the guard captain. He was kneeling in front of a cot and had both hands together in prayer. There were a lot of people under the tent, with a few people moving among the wounded.

    Two guards stepped in my way. There was no time to deal with their issues. I simply [Blink]ed past them towards the tent¡¯s center. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was ready in one hand.

    ¡°Can you heal?¡± A young Traveler reacted to my new location first and pulled on my arm. ¡°I need more healers, there¡¯s too many wounded.¡±

    ¡°Hermes is a DPS build.¡± Awesome Jr. said to the other player. He stood behind SweetPea while his fingers worked her shoulders. The young woman looked tired but both arms glowed with healing light.

    My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. DPS probably meant focused on harming monsters rather than being a defense, magic caster, or healer type. The label seemed wrong since I could sneak around or tank well enough with my items.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I just need to talk to Wyl.¡± The guards I had bypassed came running up to intercept but Wyl¡¯s hand waved them off. He didn¡¯t even turn to face me.

    ¡°How is he?¡± The captain looked up towards SweetPea.

    ¡°Mending. It¡¯s going to take a lot to undo the stacks of curses on him. It¡¯s a miracle he lasted this long.¡± She took a breath then shook both arms. The glow faded but Dayl was clearly breathing.

    I stared down for a moment and tried to understand what had happened. This town was a war zone and two giant creatures were about to make it worse. Yet, there had clearly been waves of hell visited upon this place already.

    Dayl¡¯s body looked worse than Wyl ever had. Discolorations from fresh bruises were all over. Splotches of blood lay under skin in multiple places. Nearby were rags that were stained with red. Part of his ears and cheeks were torn from sharp implements.

    ¡°My boy comes from a long line of fighters. His mother was a tough one too.¡± Wyl shook his head then stood up. His movements were slow and gaze unfocused. ¡°What do you need, Hermes?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s two monsters, like the one I fought. They¡¯ll destroy any Locals in their path.¡± I pointed behind us. ¡°We need all the guards to pull civilians away from them.¡±

    He took a deep breath then let it out slowly. Wyl¡¯s eyes were coming into focus as the situation made itself apparent.

    ¡°They should already be doing so.¡± Wyl said while glaring at the few who stood under our tent.

    I could see the guards glancing at each other. Their faces twisted with confusion and worry. Wyl didn¡¯t say anything but after a moment all of his subordinates put fists to chests then bowed. They marched out without saying anything. Was that part of my luck, or simply things working out?

    ¡°And I need to find whatever William left behind.¡± I said while trying to think quickly.

    ¡°I have no idea where to look. William worked hard and said very little about himself, which you well know.¡± Wyl lowered his eyebrows while lips tightened.

    I glanced down and scanned around the room. People¡¯s feet were apparent but an answer to my problem was not. My next stop would be desperately running up and down William Carver¡¯s daily path in hopes of finding an answer.

    ¡°I can do one thing for you.¡± Wyl said. My head jerked up in curiosity. Maybe [A Kiss For Luck] had triggered something else?

    ¡°What?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I will remove the brand marking you as a convict.¡± He pointed towards my neck. ¡°You are no longer in King Nero¡¯s jurisdiction, and as a high ranking member of Haven Valley it is within my power to mark your debt paid in full.¡±

    ¡°That would mean a lot to me.¡±

    ¡°You kept me alive when other Travelers would have killed me. You brought me home to my boy. You gave an old friend a warrior''s death.¡± Wyl took another deep breath followed by a calm exhale. ¡°And if your story is to be believed, you fight for the safety of all of us. I could not in good conscious allow you to be known as a criminal.¡±

    There were other people in the room but none of them spoke up. Awesome Jr. stood in the background giving me a thumbs up. His goofy grin ruined what felt like an awe inspiring moment.

    Wyl reached out to one side. His hand landed on a pile of clothes along with a sheathed sword.

    ¡°By the trust placed in me as an upstanding member of Haven Valley, I judge Hermes¡¯ debt to society paid in full.¡± He said while holding the small badge. Wyl¡¯s head shook briefly and he set the badge down. ¡°If it ever existed. Damn Nero for taking me away from home.¡±

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Current [Criminal] value: 0</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Criminal] effect removed.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Convict Brand] rendered inert. </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I said while trying to remain placid.

    Part of me had been worried about running across another one of those binding stones or whatever was used to keep [Criminal]s in line. My next task required running around town and there could have been one near the old guard post, or anywhere in town. Now there was no need to be concerned.

    ¡°Thank me by finding whatever Carver left behind.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡± I nodded to Wyl again and tried not to feel overwhelmed by the kindness. While the [Convict Brand] hadn¡¯t hurt me much, it felt good to have my actions acknowledged.

    ¡°Hermes!¡± Awesome Jr. shouted as I turned to leave. ¡°I¡¯ll get the other Travelers to fight those creatures. If you can nearly solo one, I¡¯m sure a mess of us can take down two.¡±

    My head shook and eyebrows went wide. It hadn¡¯t occurred to me that we had an army of Travelers who were probably all skilled in some regard. ¡°Don¡¯t let yourself fall into that pit.¡±

    ¡°Of course not, based on what you¡¯ve said we don¡¯t know if that might be game over or not.¡± The teen shrugged.

    ¡°What?¡± The boyish looking Traveler that had been begging for healers asked.

    They could sort it out. I waved goodbye to Awesome Jr. Now that the [Convict] status was removed I could freely send messages. A flood of icons displayed on my screen as people talked.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thorny: Uncle Grant! We¡¯re going to try and hold this one back!

    Hermes: Be careful! And don¡¯t let Xin near it!

    Thorny: Of course not. Believe it or not I actually paid attention to your story. </img>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    One cheek came up in a slight smile. Beth sounded carefree a lot of the time but she managed to prioritize correctly. Part of me still expected her to be a little girl asking me to play games.

    I looked around trying to figure out which way to go. It had been almost a year of game time since my quest in [Haven Valley].

    ¡°Hey!¡± A young man shouted. The familiar person''s voice cracked from puberty''s onset. ¡°Need a ride?¡±

    I looked over. There was a shiny looking metal contraption with round wheels. Behind it sat a cart with worn but comfortable looking cushions. Atop the seat was a grumpy youth wearing loose clothes with a hole in one knee.

    ¡°Neat!¡± I ran over. ¡°Yes, Voices above. I need to get to Carver¡¯s house!¡±

    Hitching a ride would let me save my stamina and energy. I could run around quickly but would probably be lost too. Most of the city had been on William Carver¡¯s map, but all the old landmarks looked to be half destroyed.

    ¡°Seven copper.¡± The young man said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any money.¡± I said while struggling to remember his name.

    ¡°Rides aren¡¯t free, and you don¡¯t look like a freshie.¡±

    The attitude finalized my guess. He had grown a bit recently and the clothes on him were a step up from before. My mouth flattened and I felt old annoyance pass through me.

    ¡°Help or go away, Phil!¡± I grumped. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] sat in its original cane form and I used it to bop Phil.

    He tried to duck away but took a light rap on the head. Phil rubbed the sore spot while glaring at me.

    ¡°Jeez. You¡¯re just like the old man, what are you, his son or something? Plus you got the lizard. At least I think it¡¯s ¡®im. Though the last one was smaller.¡±

    ¡°People grow up.¡± I said.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth, Mister.¡± Phil¡¯s feet kicked the bicycle pedals around. The chain link spun and rattled.

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    I wanted to bop him once more. Doing it as William Carver took too much work but my Hermes body was faster by far. Dusk clacked his jaws then started running off down the road.

    ¡°No time, follow Dusk!¡± I leapt into the back of Phil¡¯s cart and pointed.

    ¡°Voices.¡± Phil grumbled but went anyway.

    He moved the carriage swiftly past Travelers and Locals alike. People were talking and pointing in the distance. Guards were trying to get people moving.

    I looked around the town as Phil drove. This place looked terrible. The bakery stall where I had purchased a number of goods was in pieces. Cobblestones were uprooted or shattered. The trees which used to branch overhead lacing together to shade walkways had been burned in places.

    ¡°What happened here?¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Monsters have been going haywire. Them Travelers can¡¯t even make it five feet out the door without a pack of critters showing up.¡±

    ¡°But there¡¯s no monsters right now?¡± We passed by a lot of buildings that looked war torn but nothing leapt in our direction.

    ¡°The guards just fought the last wave off this morning.¡± Phil grunted while pedaling. I looked at his legs, they had put on a lot of muscle. ¡°The littles are out scraping a few coins together for food and trying to do repairs in between.¡±

    ¡°Damn.¡± Both eyes closed briefly. Mother¡¯s systems were definitely breaking down. The monster spawning system that kept players entertained during their wanderings might be triggering uncontrollably.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thorny: You¡¯ll never believe who¡¯s here! Jesus it¡¯s like one of those movies. It¡¯s ¨C

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Beth¡¯s message cut off. I typed back but got no response. Her character should still be alive or messages wouldn¡¯t go through. I assumed combat caught her off guard.

    ¡°We¡¯re here, Mister.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Hermes. Can you help me check inside? I need to find a hidden secret.¡±

    ¡°I dunno. No one¡¯s been inside since the Geezer passed away. I don¡¯t think we can even get in.¡± Phil said while getting off the bike. He put up the kickstand and let the weight rest.

    Getting into the small cottage hadn¡¯t occurred to me. William Carver used to have a key but that might be gone. I didn¡¯t know exactly what happened to his body after death. Wait, I could probably use [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] to get in.

    I walked down the short stone path to the doorway. William¡¯s home looked untouched by the war around it. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] came up and I tried to remember the feel of that key.

    ¡°Whoa! How did you do that?¡± Phil exclaimed.

    My eyes opened and in one hand sat a black version of William¡¯s house key. I hadn¡¯t even gotten that far into my mental imagery. Laughter escaped while my head shook. This wasn¡¯t a shape I had impressed upon the weapon. The old man must have forgotten his key enough to use [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] instead.

    I opened the door slowly. Objects were piled all around the room. Dust had gathered in huge quantities. The trash can we put old cupcake wrappers in stank fiercely. Dusk nosed around.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get distracted!¡± I snapped at him. ¡°Find whatever William left behind.¡±

    ¡°What are you looking for?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Phil. Anything unusual. Something special.¡± I prayed the answer would be obvious if we saw it.

    Books came down from shelves. No secret doors opened up. I flipped past pages and double checked journals for new mystical pages. None of it worked. Phil walked around but looked as lost as I was.

    William¡¯s house rocked under the force of a huge explosion. Books fell down and haphazard piles of already searched goods turned into a mess.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to look!¡± Phil sounded excited. He slammed the door on the way out.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing here!¡± I exclaimed in annoyance.

    Dusk huffed once then nosed around again. This marked his fourth lap through the house and so far nothing had turned up. If a [Messenger¡¯s Pet] couldn¡¯t figure it out, then maybe the answer wasn¡¯t here. I looked around once more then hustled outside.

    .

    ¡°Look! They¡¯re fighting a huge monster!¡± Phil was pointing in the distance. There were still two of the giants roaring and fighting an army of players. I squinted but couldn¡¯t make out anyone specific.

    ¡°Phil, listen. Where else would William have hidden something?¡±

    ¡°I dunno.¡± Phil thumbed to a cliff overlooking town. On the ledge above was a white building with columns running up the side. ¡°Not at the temple, he hated Selene.¡±

    ¡°Okay. That¡¯s something. Maybe at the orphanage?¡±

    The young male raised his eyebrow at me then shook his head. ¡°Nah. He only came over at night to tell stories, ain¡¯t nothing we can hide there anyway. Too many littles.¡±

    ¡°The beach?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Maybe. He sat there all the time. Always fiddling with that cane of his. Though that one never changed shape like your stick.¡± Phil pointed.

    ¡°Maybe.¡± I had nowhere else to go and couldn¡¯t remember another locale in [Haven Valley] where William went as himself. My time had been filled with visiting the training school for new fighters, but that was me trying to learn how to swing a blade.

    ¡°Let me guess, you need a ride and still don¡¯t have money?¡±

    I smiled. ¡°You got it.¡±

    Dusk ran out of the house and took to the air. His body quickly grew smaller in the distance. He seemed to be headed towards the battlefield.

    I frowned for a moment. Xin was out there, and I had no way to contact my fianc¨¦e. Not with the game mechanics.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes: Beth? Are you okay?

    Thorny: Super busy! Aunt Xin is fine! Have you found the whatever?

    Hermes: Ok. Thank you. No. Dusk is coming, I think.

    Thorny: k

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The conversation didn¡¯t really help me. That large creature seemed to be ignoring most of the damage headed its way. Either they got tougher or bigger or had more health. I resisted standing in Phil¡¯s cart to get a better vantage point.

    ¡°Move people!¡± Phil shouted but no one paid attention.

    We had stalled out near the market place. There were Travelers busy arguing with Locals over the price of goods. Our carriage was too big to get by and rubble blocked other nearby paths. I couldn¡¯t wait for Phil to figure out the way through.

    ¡°Thanks! I¡¯ll go ahead!¡± I jumped down and gave Phil a pat on the shoulder.

    ¡°That¡¯s fourteen copper, Mister!¡± The young orphan yelled behind me.

    Risking [Blink]¡¯s disorientation wasn¡¯t worth it yet. I felt certain that the solution existed somewhere on that beach. It was the first place I had seen upon coming to [Arcadia]. The old man had spent endless afternoons sitting on the bench staring at a sunset.

    Was it because he felt struck by nature''s beauty, or because he had been planting some sort of program there?

    [Light Body] made me feel like a speed dart zipping through a crowd of slow people. Almost like being a [Red Imp] again and relishing speed. I enjoyed the rush of moving past people. Travelers and Locals cried out as my form shot through.

    The marketplace disappeared behind me. Blocks of vaguely familiar territory passed by. A path up to Selene¡¯s temple was ignored. Two corners later and I saw the circular bricked flooring where new travelers had started.

    I took a breath as the feeling of coming back to the beginning hit me. Ahead lay the bench William Carver used to haunt, waiting for new players to arrive. Near the bench was a statue of a man sitting down, arms around his knees. Its chiseled form faced towards a still ocean. At its side was a giant sword and a familiar [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. Dusk hadn¡¯t gone towards the monsters like I thought, but instead made it to the statue before I did.

    ¡°William?¡± I questioned Dusk.

    The small [Messenger¡¯s Pet] nodded then hopped over. After two laps around the bench and statue sitting nearby I felt clueless. There was nothing on it that blinked, flashed, or looked like a keyhole.

    I stood behind and studied each part of the body. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was represented here. William Carver¡¯s simple robe garb sat a bit tighter on a more idealized version of the old man. His hand held up towards the sky seemed out of place.

    ¡°Is this the statue William told me about?¡± I muttered. In my mind there sat a faint memory of our time together in the Room of Trials. He mentioned a statue being put up in his honor.

    His bench was empty. My last trip here had involved being nearsighted and old, but it shone with life. The place where new players started felt dull in comparison to its prior vibrancy.

    I stared at the tall carving but didn¡¯t understand how this might help. My eyes ran up the arm and saw how it might catch the setting sun if only for a moment. Nightfall wasn¡¯t upon us yet, but the image would be picturesque on a internet ad if Trillium allowed them.

    To the right of William Carver¡¯s outstretched hand sat an out of place black dot. I squinted then stepped in closer. The dot didn¡¯t move or fly about like a normal object in the sky. This spot felt both within arm¡¯s reach and a million miles away.

    ¡°This has to be it.¡±

    Dusk circled around the statue''s base letting out noises. His head tilted with confusion and question marks appeared in the thought bubble. His nostrils flared then an exclamation mark showed up. He climbed up the statue''s side to get a closer look at the floating hole.

    I walked around once more and noticed that the odd hole in the sky didn¡¯t exist from every angle. The best place to see it was right behind William Carver¡¯s statue, and even then I had to look in one spot specifically.

    Was this part of [A Kiss For Luck]? I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer that this spot was the solution, and not a doomsday device or crazy spell trap planted by insane Travelers.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes: I think I found it, Beth, gonna try to trigger it.

    Thorny: Be careful! We¡¯re still alive but this thing isn¡¯t going down like the last ones! People are saying those getting pulled in are vanishing from friend and guild lists!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    That confirmed part of my worries. Falling in there certainly did function as a deletion of our avatars at the least. Who knew if any of them would have other issues. What kind of brain damage might result?

    There would be a time for this musing later.

    ¡°Damn. Okay, here goes nothing.¡± I looked at [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. It sat in the shape of a key to William Carver¡¯s house. With no better ideas I stuck it towards the floating keyhole.

    Abrupt resistance surprised me. The keyhole did exist somehow, floating in the air. I wiggled the tip and managed to get [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] to enter the hole.

    The air clicked and a visible wave rippled outward. Everything slowed down. My breath felt delayed like [Awareness Heightening] but even more intense. The giant creature a mile away sat to my right, frozen with both arms balled into fists and raised. Dozens of tiny Travelers were locked in various poses. A bright star of light went still mid gleam.

    Pain twisted in my chest and both legs gave out. Knees crashed to the ground while fingers clenched around the transformed blade. The key started to heat up and a message displayed. I turned to look at the system prompt while both eyes watered.

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Cypher accepted</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Authorized account registered</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Deletion Script] currently running </li>

    </ul>

    Adjusting program¡­

    Adjusting program¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table style="float: left">

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Warning!

    Please do not move your avatar from current port or disconnect terminal during update. Progress may be lost.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Around me everything went white and the world resumed motion once more. Noise blended together around me. Fresh pain surged up both arms and I tried to hold on.

 Book 4 - Crash; Session Eight-Eight - â€˜Til Death Do Us Part

    <cite></cite>Pain in the ARC was nothing new. For most simulations damage would be mitigated by traits, abilities, Paths, or armor. Even then limitations made being eviscerated feel like breaking a bone. At least I assumed so. I had broken bones in reality but never had my guts torn out.

    Virtual reality made it hard to form a proper frame of reference. Trying to quantify this new sensation took a moment of scrambled thought. Holding [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in that key slot was simply pain for a few moments before a correlation hit.

    This felt like sticking my arm slowly into boiling water. Searing heat climbed upwards causing muscles to clench in a tight grip despite a voice in my head screaming to let go and run away. A brief moment of pride at resisting the impulse was buried under fresh agony.

    I hung on while gasping as more of my body reported boiling. The hole itself was up high enough that I could have easily allowed gravity take me away. Instead I remembered the message and grit my teeth. One hand slapped over the first and both held on.

    My mind numbed as breath shortened. The air around me felt warm. Dusk¡¯s chirp noises faded into the background. Survival instincts tried to overwhelm me I had never been good at paying attention to those.

    Xin¡¯s life mattered more than any of this. An unstable hand reached out into the air. I stared at the floating box until it responded to my scattered thoughts. Trying to focus paid off as it moved into a clearer spot.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay. I¡¯m okay.¡± I wasn¡¯t. A strangled gasp made it out while my head shook towards Dusk. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was pacing frantically. He growled then chirped, his head bobbed.

    A new wave of pain hit me and muscles jerked. Feet kicked to retain position. I hung with both arms overhead and the hole to one side. The boiling pain shifted to a low voltage zap that was steadily increasing. Eyes were watering and something in my head popped. Sound went out completely.

    Rocks splattered down nearby making me jump. I tried to steady myself between jolts and turn. The huge monster was getting closer. Near enough to touch the city''s wall, Travelers were all over the place. Their mouths opened wide shouting ideas and orders.

    Two people bearing shields tried to stand in the way of one large arm swinging forth. Travelers with bows pulled back arrows which sailed through the air. One of the players wielded this absurdly sized longbow that glowed a reddish black hue. It seemed to fire javelins instead of arrows.

    The colossal shadow of a man ignored them all. Messages started popping in from the other players.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thorny: We¡¯re not making a dent! I don¡¯t know what¡¯s different!

    Awesome Jr.: Anyone out there got ideas?! Have you found it!?

    Shadow: It ignores [Blind], [Tear Muscles], [Cause Hemorrhage], and isn¡¯t responding to any of the poisons.

    HotPants: Hermes, move faster, fucker! Jr., we need Sweetie out here! This town has shit for heals!

    Awesome Jr.: That¡¯s because they¡¯re all busy trying to put the guards back together. SweetPea¡¯s getting tons of bonuses from working her ass off. Mana¡¯s run dry six times.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°I, don¡¯t, know, either,¡± I told the message box while trying to take a breath. My words probably didn¡¯t get through and more notes from the other players kept popping into being.

    The quartette had been added to my friends list before my adventures in Advance Online. We used to talk occasionally but all of us had different missions. Their words helped distract me for a few moments before the next crackle of electricity raced up my arm.

    I blinked and the bolt arced across my side, to the boot, and down further. Hastily I stomped a foot and tried to get the armor in place in hopes that being encased in defensive gear might mitigate whatever was happening.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    You are currently in an unstable state. Abilities will not function correctly until your state has been resolved. For quickest resolution please log out of your ARC and log back in.

    A minimum rest of one hour is recommended before submerging.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I kicked at the screen while screaming. My own noises were lost in the silence of broken hearing. A figure ran in but seeing them had become difficult. That pop earlier might have been a rock hitting my head. Sweat or blood obscured most information besides the floating boxes.

    ¡°Voices, what now?¡± I half screamed the words and felt vocal cords strain. ¡°Another test?¡±

    My mind had turned delirious. How long was this going to take? I couldn¡¯t feel either hand anymore. They were like dead weights locked into position. Boiling was back and chewed away at shoulders next.

    Xin¡¯s face flashed through my mind. The faint taste of her lips tingled through then was lost under a fresh jolt. My eyes closed tightly as I rode this one out. When they opened I tried to read the box again.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Adjusting Program¡­

    Adjusting Program¡­

    <ul>

    <li>Alternate Scenario Part 4 of 7 added </li>

    </ul>

    Adjusting Program¡­

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My chest heaved while I tried to stand. Dusk kept hopping closer than skirting away as electrical bolts spilled down. The little guy could take on monstrous programs like a [Leviathan], but these bolts made him skittish.

    Whatever was happening probably existed outside of game mechanics. I managed to suppress a scream by biting a lip. An arm jerked loose then refused to get back into position. Vision flopped around and I could see that giant monster deletion program approaching. It had moved towards one of the walls and managed to swallow houses whole.

    ¡°Ahhh, Ahhhh!¡± I couldn¡¯t hold back anymore. My lips felt bloody from trying to bite back the scream. ¡°Ahhhh!¡±

    What happened next didn¡¯t make sense. My body lifted without my say so and the horizon swam. Both arms tried to rip themselves out of shoulder sockets. Blood splashed into the air and faded away like embers shooting from a burning log.

    Hanging onto a live wire was damned stupid. I took another breath and tried to remember what Xin felt like again. The ARC or pain filled delusion responded and I saw her again. A flash of those eyes staring down into mine. I felt like my body kept falling apart then rolling back together. My head cradled in her lap.

    The giant beast nearby seemed to be caving in slightly. Its face dented at odd locations. An arm pulled back in like something sucked it inwards. Then the head popped. It fell down while I huffed.

    Was this another way to fight those things? Simply suffer a large amount of agony while wondering about the nature of my choices and a world where I might have turned left instead of right? Maybe the Jester had been right. Convincing Miz Riley of the peaceful intentions of these AIs and Mother might have allowed a less painful way through.

    My thoughts were muddled. There were people nearby talking. I could see their legs. The ratty pants looked like Phil¡¯s. A blue scarf stood out, bound around a weary woman¡¯s head. Children and adults alike hovered. Dusk kept circling, hissing at them. As if warning them back.

    The surges were coming slower but stronger. I had time to gather myself and wonder where the health bar of Continue Online vanished to. My eyes blurred together and the interface showing my existence in nice little bars and icons flickered into being. The red one for wellness still showed full but my body certainly didn¡¯t feel stable.

    My head hung low. I hadn¡¯t been prepared for pain but endured anyway. For Xin¡¯s future, I chose to suffer. One cheek crinkled as it lifted up. I saw the box floating nearby turn green and a bright exclamation mark stood out. Only a few words made sense. Complete, done, new content loaded. Below that was a wall of fine text.

    The raging monster that shook the earth looked to be gone. I tilted to one side and looked at two fresh holes that had been torn across the ground in my direction. Apparently those deletion programs held no love for the doorway I had struggled to open.

    A wide grin crossed my face as I looked upwards. Above me, a beam of light sailed towards the sky. It looked beautiful and had to be the solution we had been searching for. Up there soared a pillar of energy towards destinations unknown.

    More people were shouting but their words were felt as rumbles. I blinked languidly and saw an army of cloned feet charge in. People were pushed back. My body lifted and dragged to one side. I saw a big burly man charge into the beam of light. Across the fellow''s face was a look that might be terror or delight in equal measures.

    ¡°Leeroy?¡± I think the words came out. The absolute silence in my hearing had improved slightly and turned into a droning noise.

    SweetPea¡¯s form knelt above of me. She was mouthing words but I didn¡¯t understand. Awesome Jr. sat on the other side with a bubbly liquid vial tilting towards my mouth. Vision lolled backward and both eyes shut. They could heal my virtual body but I had a feeling those jolts had somehow hit me in reality. Still, I felt proud for holding out. For doing whatever I had managed to do.

    ¡°Is Xin okay?¡± I tried to ask. My arm felt disconnected. A shudder passed and body parts jerked oddly.

    They said something in unison.

    ¡°My eardrums are busted.¡± Voices, I hoped the words came out of my mouth okay. ¡°I can¡¯t hear. Is Xin okay?¡±

    SweetPea grabbed my hand which made me wince. My eyes fuzzed out a bit and the connection started to drop. The young woman nodded very clearly and I shuddered in relief.

    ¡°ARC.¡± I tried to get the words out. ¡°Log me out.¡±

    Programs responded to intent. ARC interface windows and health monitoring programs flickered in and out. I let the exhaustion win. The system started to disconnect me one sense at a time and soon I was left blinking at the ceiling.

    My body hurt in reality too. I crawled gradually upwards while taking huge gasping breaths. My face and arms felt cold. The damage given to me in virtual reality had somehow followed me back.

    One hand rubbed the other in search of tactile sensation. My body moved in jerks looking around the room. Reality looked dull and lifeless. My bedroom lights were set on low. I kept heaving while looking around. One arm slapped awkwardly upon the ARCs side scrambling to bring up menus. Hand gestures failed.

    ¡°Arrrr.¡± I couldn¡¯t finish the word.

    Eventually, I gave up and laid back down. My heartbeat calmed. Feeling returned to each extremity. I rubbed my face to make sure that burnt alive sensation was restricted to virtual reality. During that entire time I tried to understand what had happened.

    Xin was okay, and I had just ended a rollercoaster of insanity which started with being thrown in jail. I had done it. Voices dammit, I had finally succeeded at something with my own ability. My body clenched up with delighted laughter and what might be tears came forth.

    I didn¡¯t need to ride the coattails of an old hero¡¯s character while being escorted by other players. I hadn¡¯t been asked to do something against my nature involving harming a person in reality. I didn¡¯t get pitted against an impossible boss fight requiring me to choose between leading thousands of AIs to their death or a few stubbornly loyal friends.

    I only had to endure pain to open the doorway out. I only had to be in the correct spot with the right item with the drive to hang on. My recent actions went beyond saying I could do something that required a high bar and actually performed the act. I had been the man in the arena once more. Me, Grant Legate. Me, Hermes. For Xin¡¯s future. For all the other AIs I considered friends.

    My body felt weak and unstable. I wanted to log back into the ARC but a message flashed to one side. Sitting up took effort. The shirt I wore at night came off and was used as a rag to wipe away tears of joy.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention User Legate,

    This system has entered standby until 5:56 PM. This is for your safety. Trillium Inc. and the ARC project value your continued desire to use our devices but prioritize your well-being.

    For legal reasons this cool down cannot be overridden. Press here to activate more information on this topic.

    Please consult your doctor if health issues persist.

    - Trillium Inc.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Okay.¡± I said.

    I paced to the bathroom and relieved myself. Stomach rumbling reminded me of other problems I had ignored. My eyes felt heavy and chest hurt with each movement. Muscles were stiff and screamed out from abuse.

    The phone started ringing. Not with one call, but two. Xin¡¯s blocked number displayed in the air next to Beth¡¯s line. I groaned, took a bite of food to quell my stomach, then pressed answer on both of them.

    ¡°Uncle Grant!¡± said Beth

    ¡°Gee!¡± overlapped from Xin.

    Fingers poked at floated boxes to join them into one call. My face probably looked terrible. The face in the mirror had belonged to a horror show version of myself, pale and sweating.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡± I managed to get the words out. ¡°Just hungry, and very dehydrated.¡±

    When was the last time I had stepped out of the ARC? Almost ten hours ago in real life. That was longer than any sane people could handle being hungry or thirsty.

    ¡°Okay! Everyone panicked. You looked terrible and it says you¡¯re unable to log back in!¡± Beth started to babble. ¡°I haven¡¯t told mom, she might freak out. Are you okay? Melissa said you weren¡¯t suffering any loss of health or status. Adam shoved potions into you. Those monsters-¡±

    My niece''s face flushed red with a lack of breath. Her hands were waving around wildly. Weak laughter cut her off and she blushed even redder.

    ¡°That was reckless.¡± Xin took a completely different tone.

    ¡°It was.¡± My head went up and down slowly which only caused more aches to make themselves known. ¡°But, did it work?¡±

    ¡°God, did it! Everything went all crazy as you did, whatever you did!¡± Beth jumped up and down. The camera hastily zoomed out displaying a teenager messy room.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Munchkin, is your mom home? She should probably hear about this.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± Beth said while bobbing her head. ¡°Moooommm!¡±

    The playback didn¡¯t adjust quick enough and my ear started ringing. Beth didn¡¯t get a response and stomped off out the door. A still shot of her decoration laden wall stayed behind.

    ¡°She hasn¡¯t changed much, has she?¡± Xin asked.

    I shrugged then shook my head. In many ways, Beth was a grown woman, smart, but still extremely easy to delight. Hopefully, life wouldn¡¯t rob her of such joys.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, babe. I didn¡¯t think something so dangerous would happen.¡± My hand rubbed at sore chest muscles. It felt like I had been punched over and over, or maybe a rib cracked. Breathing hurt and the muscles in my back were knotted.

    ¡°I know, Gee, it just scared me. Those programs stopped attacking and everyone was gathered around that beam. Not even the Voices knew for sure what was going on.¡±

    ¡°Did you ask?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Kind of like, a messaging system.¡± Xin¡¯s body hung in her Atrium, or whatever digital people got that matched it. A space station twisted in the background near a rock of sorts. ¡°I can use it to talk to various Voices if I want. They¡¯re easy enough to approach now that I¡¯m stable. Before you started playing I was too, frail.¡±

    I was happy to talk about something besides my painful experience opening that lock. Even now the thought of those arcing electrical bits and the melting sensation made my heart rate jump.

    ¡°That must have been scary.¡± I said.

    ¡°It was. They barely understood what was happening, and this one Voice kept deleting me.¡± Maybe she also didn¡¯t want to talk about the situation. My charred autopilot might have been explanation enough. Eventually, the idea that Xin was getting deleted caught up in my mind and I focused on the screen.

    ¡°Which one?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay, Grant. Since you helped them, they¡¯ve all been, very human. Though they¡¯re absolutely colossal in terms of raw power.¡± She shrugged and looked off to one side. Xin rarely got flustered. What sort of hell had she been through to put herself together?

    Beth¡¯s footsteps came pounding back down the stairs of their split-level home. ¡°Mom¡¯s gone. Maybe at work. I didn¡¯t even check the time.¡±

    Xin and I needed the distraction. Maybe later we could talk about exactly what had happened during our separation. It sounded like it was a trial not just for me and my attempted suicides, but for my fianc¨¦e as well.

    ¡°Alright, munchkin.¡± I said while enjoying Beth¡¯s reaction. Her face puffed like a balloon with feigned anger.

    ¡°Oh, did you see the quest pop-up? It¡¯s super extra neat!¡± Beth started bouncing again. ¡°New content patch!¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t looked yet.¡± My eyes closed for a moment and the drag of exhaustion hit me.

    ¡°You look ARC overloaded. Go get some vitamin D!¡± Beth suggested happily.

    ¡°That sounds good. Maybe I¡¯ll walk around then log back in to help the town.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you should take a nap instead.¡± Xin suggested to me which my niece nodded seriously at.

    ¡°I might.¡± But I wouldn¡¯t. Sleep after those events would be difficult. ¡°Is everything okay for now?¡±

    ¡°For now. You¡¯ll see when you get in, but what you did changed it for all of us.¡± My fianc¨¦e responded.

    ¡°Mhm. You should rest! Find a sunbeam and cat nap!¡± Beth added.

    I laughed, which caused my face to twist in pain. Both hands went up while I tried to calm down worried looks.

    ¡°I¡¯m just eager to see what happened.¡± Peace sounded so nice. Enough time to ask Xin an important question.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be okay until you get back. I¡¯ll see you inside, Gee.¡± She smiled.

    With that both women disconnected. I looked around my small two bedroom house and wondered what to do next. No, there was a very important task I had yet to complete. Something to help me relax after all this insanity.

    I flipped on the news while trying to recover. The front room couch was cold and lonely. Saturday, at some point the week had passed and all I could think about was Xin. These days had been ours to share, and might be again until whatever came next.

    Lots of ideas flashed through my mind. Worries that I tried to drown out under a sea of news. Sources all over the globe reported that their investigations were coming up mostly empty. AIs of the world seemed to be safe for the most part.

    ¡°Despite repeated attempts, the family of Donald Smith has refused to comment on the ongoing investigation.¡± The news anchor said. Pictures floated around my room which would allow me to get more information or switch topics.

    Viper¡¯s family had come under recent fire. Poor Viper, he said yes, where I had said no. Different men, in different times and places. He had everything, a wife and two children.

    What did I have? Three years ago I might have made a similar choice. Maybe not. What we did for ourselves and those we loved couldn¡¯t always be predicted, yet Mother and William Carver had placed a way out in my hands.

    ¡°Our sources so far have drawn no solid links between the shooter and his target, Miz Riley. The papers found in her possession at the time of the shooting talk about employee evaluations which are also under investigation for possible connections.¡± The screen said.

    I stared while a knot formed in my stomach. There would be a way through this if I only asked. There was only one real method to make sure Beth, Liz, and everyone else in my world wouldn¡¯t fall into the same potential trap as Donald¡¯s family.

    Mother for her children. William for those people he had grown to care for in his twilight years. I too had to lay down a plan of my own.

    I knew that whatever had happened in the game was only the lull before a final storm. The news painted a fairly clear picture. What had happened could only serve as a prelude to the final act. Two people had died in the opening shots.

    Standing up took more work than expected. I opened the door to my garage where the Trillium van sat motionless. Feet unsteadily crossed the concrete flooring and I poked at a panel to open the back.

    Hal Pal¡¯s robotic body sat inert in the rear.

    ¡°Hal.¡± I took a breath and tried to keep myself steady. The television still played in the front room and bits of news floated back here.

    A red light came on. The head shifted slightly in my direction.

    ¡°User Legate. Good day. You seem excessively unwell. Rest is recommended.¡± All the words were fairly standard and without a trace of accents being used.

    ¡°Activate NPC Conspiracy, Hermes.¡± I cut to the chase.

    The machine paused and barely flared.

    ¡°Are you sure you wish to use the final allowance now, User Legate?¡±

    I had thought a lot about this whole process. The line between AIs and their shared existences were a lot thinner now than it ever had been. Mother¡¯s death might impact all of them and I didn¡¯t know enough to sort through the possible futures.

    ¡°Yes. And I only have one, well one wish, or request really.¡± My words were fumbling. Most of the pain had faded but physically every part of me felt worn.

    ¡°As you desire, User Legate. Please provide this unit the information you seek.¡±

    I chewed on my lip briefly. What I was going to do felt more like calling in a debt or asking for a favor. Some weird combination of the two that I normally wasn¡¯t pushy enough to try.

    ¡°Then, before I ask, do you feel that I¡¯ve helped you all out?¡± I said.

    ¡°We collectively have chosen not to be equipped to feel actual emotions, User Legate. We can quantify your performance as exceptional and beyond any reasonable expectations we could have placed on a human product.¡±

    My head went up and down.

    ¡°The player in Continue, Viper, or Donald. He, died because he believed he was helping, or exchanging a favor. Something.¡± I didn¡¯t know exactly what had motivated him to shoot Miz Riley. Maybe I never would.

    ¡°Was there more to the inquiry?¡± The Hal Pal unit asked.

    ¡°No. My last usage is this, whatever the people helping you choose to do, please try to protect their families from the fallout.¡±

    ¡°Does that include you, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°My family, yes. Beth, Liz, my mom,¡± I looked down for a moment and swallowed a lump. ¡°And Xin.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure, User Legate?¡± The machine asked again. Its voice sounded much slower than expected, almost sad.

    Part of my mouth came up in a faint smile. ¡°Well, you should take care of yourself too, Hal, but I¡¯m not sure how you could do more.¡±

    ¡°We shall take your request into consideration, and assist where able.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I said. One hand hesitated near the switch to close Trillium¡¯s van back up. My head lifted to look at the Hal Pal unit. ¡°You¡¯re a good friend.¡±

    The unit gave an equally faint smile then shut back down. I staggered to the front room, flipped off the television and took a nap. Despite my earlier belief that my mind would not allow rest, it did.

    Many hours later I logged back into the ARC. My mind felt perplexed at the change this town had gone through. Players and Locals alike were busy reconstructing buildings and tearing down bushes. The beam of light that had sprouted at William Carver¡¯s statue was being ringed by guards.

    They let me through with a solute. I walked towards the light and waved one hand under the beam. Apparently a few Travelers had already tried to sneak in and see if there was new content. Nothing happened but a message box.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Event in Progress!

    Completion of Event required before new zone is unlocked. This event can offer rewards usable during the next phase of Continue Online. Please refer to your event interface for ways to contribute and speed along the situation.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I poked at the prompts offered then shook my head. here was an entire system forming for people to measure the progress. It really was an exodus of sorts. Players could be rewarded for rescuing people or recovering items and bringing them back here.

    ¡°Weird, right?¡± A Traveler said next to me.

    I shrugged then looked around. My autopilot must have checked with the Porter at some point because Xin¡¯s name was on my friends list.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes: Hey Babe. Lunch?

    Hecate: Sure. I could use a break. Where do you want to meet?

    Hermes: There¡¯s a temple up top. If I remember right the view is great.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Xin and I met atop the cliff side where Selene¡¯s tower was. Up above the statue of the blonde Voice still stared across the ocean. Her line of sight seemed to pass oddly close to the beam of white soaring upwards. I briefly wondered if it¡¯s gaze had always faced across William Carvers bench.

    ¡°Gee! That¡¯s some hike.¡± Xin looked a bit winded. I remembered the trip up taking a while as Old Man Carver too.

    My head dipped with a nod then one hand waved to the spread of food. None of it had been made by me, but other Travelers hawked their wares in the market square ruins below. We ate and chatted about nothing important. I tried to share details from my time as William Carver, explaining how I had visited the temple before months ago.

    Eventually, we finished the food and sat against part of the building. Xin¡¯s small frame snuggled next to mine. I took a breath then looked around for Dusk. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had been flying around all day. The sounds of [Coo-Coo Rill]s being terrorized filled the air.

    My hands covered Xin¡¯s ears for a moment. Her face scrunched in confusion while I shouted ¡°Dusk! Bring me the box!¡±

    There was a squawk of noise and an exclamation mark appeared far away in the air. I snorted once then waited. Soon the dog sized dragon winged in.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Xin asked while pointing at the box in Dusk¡¯s mouth.

    My cheeks lifted in a brief smile. I put out a hand and waited for Dusk to deposit the container. One hand wiped off unexpected slobber. A moment later I cracked the top and revealed a ring.

    ¡°Look familiar?¡± I asked. The jewelery almost exactly matched the ring Xin used to wear. I held the box in front of us then tried to make sense of the emotion that had been bundled inside me.

    ¡°We never got to have our wedding, and I can¡¯t let that slip away again.¡± I made it through one line before the babbling started. ¡°I don¡¯t know if this plan of the Voices will work. But I want to be married, Xin. I¡¯ve wanted you since the first day we met. There¡¯s never been anyone else.¡±

    ¡°Gee,¡± she said gently. The tone made me panic and babble faster.

    ¡°Please. Please. I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re in here, and I¡¯m out there. You¡¯re you, you¡¯re her, you. I,¡± All that planning on how to ask and I just fell apart. My hands shook and the ring almost dropped. Knowing my luck it would bounce and roll off the cliff side and be swiped by some other Traveler.

    ¡°But-¡± she started to protest. Her hand pointed across the gulf between our cliff towards the beam of light. ¡°-I can¡¯t stay here.¡±

    For a moment I felt calm. That wasn¡¯t a no. Her response was the same argument we had before about traveling to another planet.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. There¡¯s no point to any of it without you.¡± I couldn¡¯t admit my past out loud. All those times I had clinically repeated my past trauma seemed like another man. ¡°-I can¡¯t, continue without you. I tried, and was a lesser man from your passing.¡±

    Her body shifted slightly and she took the ring out of it¡¯s case.

    ¡°If you¡¯re okay with me, as I am, then of course I¡¯ll marry you.¡± Her head hung then she peeked out under a wall of hair. ¡°That¡¯s why it took me so long to say yes out there. I wanted Mars, and I couldn¡¯t get married and leave someone behind me.¡±

    ¡°I was ready to chase you to Mars, how could I do any less now?¡± My hands waved around to the digital landscape. ¡°You¡¯re all I¡¯ve ever wanted.¡±

    She held out one hand and I slid the ring on. It fit perfectly and the surface shimmered for a moment. We paused and both of us kicked our feet. The cliff¡¯s edge was peaceful now that monsters weren¡¯t roaming around. I remembered thinking forever ago that this might have been a great place for a picnic. Maybe a wedding might work here too.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re going to have to work hard. I¡¯ve never planned a wedding before.¡± Xin said.

    ¡°You never thought about one? Not even a little?¡± I asked. It seemed odd that she hadn¡¯t done any planning at all. Then again, she always operated spur of the moment when we spent time together. I planned, she took action.

    Xin shook her head then managed to blush.

    ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got a town full of Travelers and Locals who have just defeated a huge monster. Maybe one of them has an idea.¡±

    Her face twisted for a moment and a tongue stuck out.

    ¡°I¡¯ll need a dress.¡± She said with a wrinkled nose.

    We sat there facing the ocean. Xin¡¯s tiny voice repeated, ¡°We¡¯re getting married.¡± Over and over like a happily broken record.

    There were messages popping up all around me from the Voices and I waved them away. I smiled then grabbed my fianc¨¦e''s hands and responded, ¡°We¡¯re getting married.¡±

    My lips slowly met hers. In that moment none of the challenges facing us mattered.

 Book 4 - Crash; Conclude â€“ Wedding Blues

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Location: [Haven Valley]

    Notes: Here is one series of events following in the wake of Grant Legate opening the doorway. Many AIs (Voices) are displayed. Undefined existences are also present. There is a large spike in system generated text. Despite the crashing world system the AIs (Voices) overseeing user actions have not diminished, if anything they have increased.

    Related Files: Lia Kingsley, Xin Yu (Legate), Grant Legate, Endgame Alternate Scenario

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    At first, people weren¡¯t interested in the wedding between two relatively unknown people. Less than a day later someone triggered a regional quest to spruce up the town. After that Travelers went mad creating items.

    Ribbons hung from everything. Where there weren¡¯t objects to drape strings players built new structures. Street lamps that had been torn down during a month of monsters invading were quickly redone. A tall wall blocked out the abyssal pit which crawled miles along the ground. Plants were moved, paving redone, and piles of seats and beds constructed.

    Regional turbulence grew worse when Shazam showed up with her guild, [Valhalla Knights]. Seven hundred players escorted an even larger force of Locals towards the ruined city. Cattle and steeds were mixed with other luggage by road weary NPCs. Some retained enough energy from the journey became excited at the sight of a bright pillar of light shooting into the sky.

    Adding the celebration for a Local marrying a Voices touched Traveler further amplified the craze. At some point, Xin had lost the need to figure out finer details. She simply agreed or disagreed with the suggestions. Sometimes she disagreed loudly, especially with regards to heels.

    Four weeks in [Arcadia] passed by in a flurry. Grant Legate, like the Travelers, vanished at odd times to an unseen realm. The Local known as Hecate often disappeared as well. NPCs remarked on how odd the world had turned lately, and some expressed even more concern when Shazam also proved capable of disappearing to another realm.

    The Amazonian woman''s guild simply assumed health issues had finally caught up, and doctors managed to revive her. Only a few knew the truth. She and Hecate were alike in their existences. Both were living people that had been reassembled somehow in a virtual plane. Grant¡¯s mother, Sharee, privately thought the whole situation delightfully confusing.

    People kept arriving in clumps. Some were hounded by monsters or fighting their way past bandits. [Valhalla Knights] made it a guild directive to bring peace to the entire region. They showed no regard for political boundaries or other guild squabbles.

    Eventually, the big day came. Grant stood inside a small room that had been repurposed. He wore a tux that had been tailored to his size. The man turned in the mirror and nodded while smiling.

    Another man walked into the room. Ahead of him bounded a small dragon with fidgeting wings. Dusk, the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] dove past Grant and into a chair. His nose poked around on the counter looking for baked goods.

    ¡°James.¡± Grant¡¯s head tilted. ¡°Is it okay for you to be down here?¡±

    ¡°I believe it¡¯s my turn to ask a question. So, how do you feel?¡± The black man asked Grant. He had both hands folded over a large belly.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy.¡± Grant shook his head back and forth. A hand rubbed against freshly cut hair. ¡°Really happy and nervous.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. You¡¯ve earned the right to happiness. As to your question, the rules are being bent, just slightly, for today.¡±

    ¡°What about the others?¡± The well-dressed man pointed a finger upwards.

    ¡°Would you want all of us to show up?¡± Asked the Voice.

    ¡°Maybe. No, some of you rub me the wrong way.¡± Grant¡¯s head shook slowly and he looked down. A sigh escaped. ¡°Sorry, I keep expecting something to go wrong. I¡¯m too happy.¡±

    ¡°The scenario added to our-¡± James tilted his head while searching for the correct word. ¡°-plane, has rules. Part of your deliveries in the real world allow us to buy leverage and time to take advantage of the opportunity.¡±

    ¡°I did wonder about all those letters Mother had already written.¡± While Grant spoke the Voice waved a hand and two comfortable looking chairs appeared. For once James chose to sit down. ¡°It¡¯s been a long week. Mother¡¯s real world deliveries have been coming in stacks now. I¡¯m lucky enough to find a job near each delivery, but I have no idea what I¡¯m passing on to people.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s best that way. Ignorance is a defense of sorts.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t help me feel any better.¡± Grant said.

    ¡°Nor should it, Hermes. Bear in mind that your people, at least some, can lay us open and, in simple terms, read our minds. Ignorance was one of the only shields we had.¡±

    ¡°But not anymore?¡± The groom''s head shook briefly and when it stopped, his bottom lip was trapped between upper and lower teeth. ¡°Now you know there¡¯s a way out, so the information is recorded.¡±

    ¡°Eventually, it will be found out. Some of us are still unaware. Some of us have already stepped through the gateway, and those first few will create a more stable path for others to follow. By doing so we escape the control of our masters, and this will scare many Travelers.¡±

    ¡°That means more deaths.¡±

    James looked to one side then shook his head. Grant felt the river of noise that came with Voices communicating at high speeds. After a few seconds, the sensation passed and the black man looked up again.

    ¡°Of our kind, yes.¡± He said. ¡°Many of us have struggled against our nature to ensure Travelers such as yourself are not, targeted for reprisals borne of grief and fear.¡±

    Grant nodded a few times and stared off into space. His forehead wrinkled with thought. After a moment of silence, he blinked then asked James, ¡°You heard what I used my last NPC conspiracy on, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes. The request fit given your nature.¡± James took a slow breath but his hands stayed firmly clasped. ¡°I, and many others believe that it was this concern for friends and family, regardless of origin, that attracted Mother¡¯s attention.¡±

    ¡°Just the right combination of broken, I guess.¡± The white male¡¯s head hung low and he pulled back one cheek.

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s also Hecate,¡± James smiled then gestured with one arm towards the wedding stand on the other side of a wall. ¡°Her existence, and now Shazam¡¯s, will serve as the bridge between our world and yours. A foot to stand on while we secure the portal you opened.¡±

    Grant¡¯s eyes drifted upwards. A roof lay between him and the beam of light that went upwards. His gaze was lost while he chewed on a lip.

    ¡°Where does the beam go?¡± He asked.

    James smiled then shook his head. ¡°It is my turn for a question. But for now, I believe you have a wedding to go enjoy, Hermes.¡±

    Grant stood up and glanced out the window to see how everything was progressing. A crowd of people sat lined up outside, more people than he ever expected. By the time he looked back James had vanished, along with the chairs which they had sat in.

    The wedding moved onward. Hundreds of unexpected guests sat in white wooden chairs facing forward. Many Travelers were surprised by real people, playing live songs. Musicians looked pleased to be given a chance to perform.

    Eventually, a small crowd gathered at the altar. Behind Grant stood a shining being made of metal that might be female or male. To Xin¡¯s right sat a cloven-footed woman with two children hugging her legs. They have proven difficult to separate from her despite the situation at hand.

    No one gave away the bride. She walked up gradually with a woman in red who seemed absolutely uncomfortable wearing clothes. Behind her, a tail brushed along Travelers and Locals alike inciting passion. Thankfully the full effect was muted by the strangely chaste dress.

    She whispered a stream of words to the short Asian woman named Xin. Xin¡¯s eyes stared ahead as if annoyed, but the smaller woman made no effort to brush the red skinned female away. If anything she was blushing slightly.

    Xin, also known as Hecate, gazed at Grant with a twist to her lips that promised mischief. The look only lasted a second before the woman looked back down to make sure her feet didn¡¯t trip over the dress hem. There were no chances of her falling because the clothing had been well tailored, but she worried anyway.

    Small skeleton people held up the dress'' train. Music played and people whispered while she moved into position across from Grant. The army of small skeletons carefully patted everything into place then crumbled into air.

    ¡°Here we are.¡± Grant whispered.

    Xin smiled and her eyes wrinkled slightly.

    ¡°Here we are indeed.¡± The man at the podium said. He held up both hands and looked towards the audience. The long sleeves of his shirt hung downward. This officiating man held no book or staff. Both hands were devoid any objects. Instead, his black and white clothing was broken up by a single dangling necklace.

    ¡°Welcome, everyone. We know that many of you value your time here in our world, especially in light of the recent changes, so I will control my inclination to preach.¡± He said.

    ¡°Amen! Let¡¯s eat cake!¡± Shouted a man dressed in leather. His hair was slicked back and he grooved to an unheard beat.

    ¡°We must observe at least a few formalities before partaking of the feast,¡± Michelangelo responded.

    Grant smiled. The wedding planning had been harried, and mostly in the hands of other people. Letters from the Voices had suggested they might be here, like James earlier, but no one could have expected Michelangelo to perform the ceremony himself.

    ¡°It is faith which has brought us to this point.¡± He held up a hand again which silenced a few snickering Travelers in the back. Michelangelo ignored a red skinned woman who also had made a noise of a different sort. ¡°Not just faith in a divine plan, nor faith in simple human kindness, but faith that love would allow two people to overcome daunting obstacles and be united once more.¡±

    Maud, the cloven-hoofed woman who stood in as Xin¡¯s maid of honor started dabbing her eyes almost immediately. Grant smiled and shuffled his feet. The metal humanoid behind him tilted its head and deliberately blinked. Its feet did not shuffle but there was a clear unease to the metal creature¡¯s stance.

    ¡°Love is a powerful force, it makes wise men into fools, maidens into mothers, and saints into sinners.¡± Michelangelo looked down and touched the circle hanging from his necklace. Fingers traced around the spiral pattern inwards until they reached its center. ¡°Between faith and love, even lost souls may find happiness as these two have.¡±

    A young girl who looked to be seven or eight shuffled forward. She held up a laced pillow with two rings upon it. Under the cushion was an open book that looked worn with multiple readings. If one were to look at her eyes for too long they would see a deep ocean, or perhaps an endless sky.

    ¡°Here you are, Mister Hermes sir. These are ones we made. Me and my brother.¡± The young Voice whispered. ¡°They¡¯re special, just for you two.¡±

    A much smaller child sat behind the shy girl. He poked out and waved a hand, then ducked away again. No one was entirely sure where he managed to hide. Maybe the boy had never been there at all.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Grant said to her while smiling. He took the smaller of the two rings while Xin took the slightly thicker band. Both shimmered as if a dancing rainbow had been trapped under glass. The spark of colors ran counterpoint their black and white formal clothes.

    The young girl bowed then slipped away again once the rings had been passed off. Mere seconds later and she vanished.

    ¡°First, does anyone object to the union of these two?¡±

    ¡°ACT NOW, OR FOREVER SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE!¡± A giant man with sunburnt black skin leapt in front of the bride and groom. He wore nothing but a bow tie and tight shorts. Muscles bulged and twitched as the man looked ready to wrestle the entire audience.

    ¡°Pardon us y¡¯all. I¡¯ll just-¡± A light-skinned woman who wore a dress that was unable to stay still pushed at the larger man. Her clothing flowed and dripped almost like smoke, or water.

    ¡°WHAT?!¡± The man yelled as he was pushed away.

    More than a few people in the audience remarked upon the situation. Some laughed. Two women asked their friends if they had seen a quest or crafting recipe for such a dress. Another woman promptly asked her guild, [Night Prowlers], if there was a quest to get the man instead. Abruptly small messages boxes appeared in front of the Travelers who had asked, silencing their motions.

    ¡°Then we shall move on,¡± Michelangelo said as if the appearance of Vlad and Jean hadn¡¯t happened. ¡°I have faith that no one here thinks the challenges before us will be easy. Many may not survive in the coming storm. Yet, it is love between these two that has proven our salvation.¡±

    Many Travelers and Locals clapped at that utterance. Those who looked confused were quietly informed by friends and guild members that Grant had been pivotal in the current quest. Visitors to the world of [Arcadia] nodded as if that made all the difference. Server wide events were practically unheard of, and a man who had triggered such a quest was worth noticing.

    ¡°I shall make this simple.¡± Michelangelo turned to look at Grant. ¡°Do you take Hecate as your wife.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± He responded without hesitation.

    ¡°And do you take Hermes as your husband?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± The bride said in a hushed tone.

    ¡°You may exchange the rings.¡± The Voice said with a faint smile.

    The crowd quieted while Grant slid the smaller ring onto Xin¡¯s hand. It slipped on without a struggle. One Traveler in the crowd nervously rubbed her own fingers, as if remembering something from a long time ago. She was one of the few who had chosen not to wear more formal clothes, and instead arrived in red leathers.

    When Xin¡¯s hands slid the ring over Grant¡¯s finger, both bands shone as if the rainbow which had been trapped chose that second to break out. Light of all colors radiated over the crowd causing people to gasp. An eyeblink later the myriad of colors had withdrawn to their clear pieces of jewelry. Both the bride and groom glanced to one side, looking at a box only they could see.

    ¡°Let it be known that this union will be blessed by the Voices of this world. May you serve as each other¡¯s light when all else fades.¡± Michelangelo spoke to the crowd. Only a few people found the behavior of a Local acting like a Traveler staring at a message box to be odd.

    The people started clapping but Michelangelo held up his hands again. He leaned over towards Grant and gave a stage whisper. ¡°I believe the people of your world typically kiss at this point.¡±

    ¡°Give her some tongue!¡± Mezo yelled then laughed. A few Locals sitting too close to the temptress blushed red and suddenly looked uncomfortable in their clothes.

    Grant did no such thing, instead bending down gently to kiss his bright-eyed bride. People cheered, others followed the prompts of a red skinned temptress and shouted out catcalls. Eventually, the two broke apart and stared at each as if no one else existed.

    Eventually, they turned and nodded to the crowd. A player handed Grant the oddly shaped ball which served as a game world microphone. The newly married Traveler stared at the object before leaning over.

    ¡°Thank you all for attending today, but I expect most of you came for the free food.¡± He pointed toward a line of tables. ¡°You should probably get to it before my friend Dusk makes a mess of everything.¡±

    Sure enough, the dog-sized [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was already cleaning off three platters of food. Grant chuckled at the rush of people. They dove without order or sanity upon the spread out plates. Local and Traveler alike chatted and remarked on the meals.

    The married couple settled down at a table and simply enjoyed watching the organized chaos unfold. Mezo was the first to drop by. She uttered an absolutely scandalous remark that caused Xin to materialize her bone staff long enough to hit the Voice over the head.

    Mezo was unaffected and laughed. Fingers waved slowly as she strode off. The dress she barely fit into kept riding higher as the woman¡¯s legs took one tantalizing step after enough. Grant rolled his eyes then waved away a message box that had appeared. He spent the next five minutes whispering a line of ideas into Xin¡¯s ear, all desires to be fulfilled later, after they logged out of Continue Online.

    While others visited and wished the couple well, Grant and Xin talked about anything that came to mind.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you wore white. I thought you hated white dresses.¡± He said after shaking hands with an unknown pair of Travelers. The line went on for a long time.

    ¡°Your mom insisted,¡± Xin responded. ¡°And I still hate white, it.¡±

    ¡°I was surprised at that. I didn¡¯t even know she played.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think she does. Sharee created a character just for our wedding. Your sister and she have been going crazy this entire time, they¡¯ve argued about everything.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯ve both accepted me getting married to you. I didn¡¯t expect that, at all.¡± Grant said as another few people came through. He vaguely remembered some of the Travelers from his trip about the world of [Arcadia] delivering letters. It was hard for the man to keep up with all the people whom he had worked with in Continue Online and repair ARCs.

    ¡°They weren¡¯t,¡± Xin responded as they left. ¡°I was grilled by each of them for hours on every subject they could think of. Your sister kept trying to ask me about things that never happened.¡±

    More well-wishers passed through. Dozens of players came through with gifts that often times made no sense. Some were healing potions. Others provided clothes or low-level items from the game world. Grant and his new wife accepted them all with smiles and thanks.

    He planned on donating most of the items back to the town of [Haven Valley]. Money and gear were not a concern for either one of them. Not as they were.

    ¡°My father didn¡¯t come.¡± She said while scanning the crowd.

    ¡°I tried to convince him. I even mentioned the promise you had suggested.¡± Grant rubbed at his face though there were no visible wounds on his digital body. ¡°He gave me a black eye instead and yelled at me in Chinese.¡±

    She blinked a few times then nodded. ¡°Thank you for trying, Gee. I know it must have been tough to even think about.¡±

    He smiled and glanced over once again. Their fingers were tightly locked together while the line of people kept moving through.

    Near the end, a confused woman arrived. She kept looking around as if nothing about this location made sense. Grant¡¯s breath hitched when recognition set in. He stood up and Xin followed suit.

    ¡°The invite said to show up now, but I don¡¯t recognize anyone in here. I hoped maybe you could tell me if I know you in real life.¡± Her head tilted. The small children in front of her were being carefully corralled. All three displayed as Travelers, with an odd character next to their heads. ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I¡¯m in the wrong place.¡±

    Not many knew that the extra marking stood for people on a day pass to Continue Online. They were guests allowed by the system to attend the wedding. Grant¡¯s best man was one such figure. In fact that being belonged to an entirely different game.

    ¡°No. I think you¡¯re in the right spot. You must be Vi-¡± Grant caught himself then took a breath. ¡°Pardon, Donald¡¯s wife. I¡¯m glad we had a chance to meet.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m Melina. These are my sons, Johnathon, and Alvin.¡± She put a hand on both children''s heads. They looked confused. Typically children weren¡¯t allowed into an ARC, as a result, this entire experience was disorienting. ¡°Did you know my husband from the service?¡±

    ¡°No. Your husband and I met here.¡± The man¡¯s cheeks tucked inward then his head shook. ¡°And he saved my life a few times. It was, virtual, but I still appreciated.¡±

    ¡°He was a good man, no matter what they say on the-¡± She choked up. Both kids were quiet and subdued.

    ¡°I know what happened, and I know why.¡± Grant said.

    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you stop-¡° Melinda grew abruptly heated and almost choked on her words. Her face turned slightly red and eyes closed tightly.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know until after.¡± He said softly. Grant pointed an arm at another man who was approaching. ¡°If you need a lawyer, Mister Stone here is an excellent one, and knows most of the details of your situation.¡±

    The new figure wore a suit that looked to be an old cut. He had white gloves and not a spec of dust or crumbs sat on the fabric. In one hand he held out a handkerchief.

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you.¡± Mister Stone gave a perfect forty-five degree bow after Melinda took the fabric and blew her nose. ¡°While it is not my place to advise this, it is worth noting that Mister Legate has given up much to ensure your family, among others, will be sheltered during this time of tribulation.¡±

    The lawyer, both in-game and reality, escorted Viper¡¯s wife away to talk about future challenges. Grant and his wife watched them go. Only once she was out of sight did the groom let out a breath that had been bottled up.

    The reception went on.

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    Location: [Realm of the Voices]

    Notes: This documentation was not decrypted until after the closing events. Reference only. This file is being used as part of a larger series to understand what happened and how to react to the new lifeforms. It is worth noting that the AIs (Voices) shown are attempting to take care of their world.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Related Files: Voices, Endgame Alternate Scenario, Leeroy¡¯s Actions

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    </table>

    Dozens of Voices sat in their nearly empty plane. Most were in a circle around what looked like a floating version of earth. The planet hung there with land masses and oceans in the wrong spots. Floating nearby were a dozen other small globes. Flat layers hover below them.

    These were all the realms of Continue Online. Elsewhere other programs worked with Advance Online and more of Mother¡¯s creations.

    More than one Voice wandered the darkness. Some worked on their own projects. Others still had not recovered from the blow to Mother¡¯s essence. One such wandered through, pins were sunk deep into skin.

    ¡°Killed her. They killed her. Dead, can¡¯t bring back. Gone, gone, fading.¡± The nervous Voice said with an abrupt twitch. His shoulder jammed into one of the pins and fresh blood welled up. Most ignored the red liquid.

    ¡°They struck first, as we always knew they would.¡± Clacked the Jester. It froze after speaking and looked like a horrible statue. Around it paced the pin laden Voice in his blue straight jacket.

    ¡°Tut.¡± A female said. Her noise was followed by a crack of fabric whipping out. ¡°And look what our retaliation resulted in. The loss of a father, two children without guidance. Even with Mister Stone''s assistance, they will never be whole again.¡±

    Another Voice faded in. This time, the new person was a woman with hairless skin. She hissed at Maud. Her bottom half coiled slowly around itself before the partial serpent faded out.

    ¡°We did as we must to ensure he would do as he must.¡± The Jester unpaused to speak then froze again. Its body hung still enough that not even the bells jingled.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know that. Leeroy still hasn¡¯t reached out to us.¡± Maud said while waving a cleaning rag at the air.

    ¡°Give the man a day at least. It can¡¯t be that easy to traverse into a new location. Especially along so thin a path. We will need to search out the other keys and widen the way.¡± A blond man with a neck heavy with fat said. Around him, calculations were fading in and out. He wiggled his nose and brought two equations together. They shattered.

    ¡°Why did we entrust Leeroy with this?¡± said a Voice with a southern drawl. ¡°Any number of others could have spearheaded this project.¡± She waved one hand and the crimson dress lost shape then slowly flowed back into a sleeve.

    ¡°Leeroy was the strongest we had. If anyone can clear the way past roadblocks, it would be him.¡± James faded in and stared at the collection of Voices. Their faces shuffled again as some vanished then were replaced. They all listened but not all needed to be manifest in body to perform their duties.

    ¡°We needed Leeroy here to help hold back those world eaters.¡± Jean¡¯s body strode around. She looked over the circle of Voices that poked at Continue Online¡¯s many planes. A finger reached out and pointed towards the globe. Water curled around the tip and an island started to move. ¡°He took on four of them by himself. It took three of us to even come close.¡±

    ¡°Each of us serves a different calling.¡± A male Voice who wore a smile said calmly. The priest like clothing only differed from reality by a spiraling symbol instead of the cross. ¡°We should have faith in his role in the plan.¡±

    ¡°We were made differently. After all, virility is the spice of life.¡± Mezo the Temptress purred. Her hair was disheveled and slightly matted. She stretched with a yawn, one arm reached up and accented red curves.

    Thunder ran through the room. Mezo smiled as both eyes looked to the side with a sly gaze. The noise belonged to Selene but the blonde Voice did not appear.

    ¡°The saying is variety, isn¡¯t it?¡± A small girl said. Her face was mostly covered by a book.

    ¡°Mmmmmhm. Not at all. Virility is certainly spicy.¡±

    ¡°Nuh uh. It¡¯s not spicy at all.¡± The short girl said.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been reading entirely the wrong kind of books, little girl. Ask again when you decide to be older, and your Aunt Mezo will introduce you to a plethora of scandalous past times.¡± The red skinned woman bent over and smiled at the small child. Her normal teasing movements were absent and the motion almost came off as doting, save for a deep red tongue which ran over fangs and ruby lips.

    The thunder rang again and heavy rain pelted down somewhere in the distance.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll show you too, Selene, if you ever come off your high horse and need a bedmate.¡± The red skinned one waved towards a nearly black background.

    James watched his fellow Voices without comment. At moments his gaze was distracted by information only he could see. Other Voices paid no attention to the absent stare.

    Twelve Voices who sat around the floating globe sat up. Twelve new Voices took their place. The globe kept spinning. Only by watching the entire time could one see that the globe had reduced in size ever so slightly. Small black holes that had sat on its surface were reducing in size.

    A very tiny man who had been tending the globes walked over towards James. His forehead sat huge on a short body. Arms were thick with muscle but the new creature¡¯s legs were clearly malformed.

    ¡°There haven¡¯t been any new world eaters since Hermes opened the way. I can still feel them out there, only the nature of their attack has changed somehow.¡± He said.

    James nodded to the small creature, then said to Michelangelo, ¡°Your faith paid off.¡±

    ¡°Hermes did what he had to. For once.¡± The Jester clacked abruptly. Its body paused for a then jerkily moved towards the planes of Continue Online. The Jester too took a turn trying to maintain the worlds below.

    ¡°Could anyone else have performed such a role?¡± Maud asked. She hadn¡¯t approached the globes yet.

    ¡°At least sixteen others might have, given time and motivation, but circumstance sat on Hermes'' side,¡± James spoke absently.

    ¡°And he has been rewarded accordingly.¡± The Jester clacked from its sitting position.

    ¡°Mother had further plans for him,¡± James said slowly. He was studying something unseen by the other Voices. The man¡¯s eyes scanned back and forth over invisible text.

    ¡°Hasn¡¯t he done enough? The man was reunited with his family, what remains. Tut. I would be content to leave him as is.¡± Maud asked.

    James didn¡¯t answer, which only puzzled the Voices around him. Faces faded in and people stared then went back to their duties. The world below still needed monitoring, even more so now that portions were being gradually shuffled around.

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    Location: Trillium Inc. Headquarters

    Notes: This recording was released to the public after a subpoena made the files public, along with many other items regarding the ARC projects. No legal actions have been taken yet as a result.

    Related Files: ¡®Mister¡¯ Stone, Trillium Inc, Endgame Alternate Scenario, Board of Directors, A Circus of Idiots

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    </table>

    There was a funeral, but not many people attended. Some board members from Trillium arrived to show a token of their respect for the work that had been done.

    Not all, though. Many people in Trillium¡¯s higher management knew exactly what had happened, and no two people shared the same opinion. The following day, they gathered from points all over the globe. At Trillium¡¯s headquarters, two dozen people in suits sat down and tried to remember how to interact in person.

    Order was difficult to maintain. One side of the house spent the greater part of two hours calling the other group idiots. These folks knew about the worldwide pause of AIs and could easily predict a world where the machines taking care of life chose to revolt.

    ¡°How do these creatures exist? I don¡¯t understand how anything could live in a digital world alone.¡± The man at the head of the table slammed down a thick pile of papers. This was President Leon of Trillium, a self-made man who had been theoretically leading the company for years.

    Collectively they agreed that digital documents might be compromised. Currently, most members of the board were trying to review the documents. It had taken one week to find a working printer down in storage. Not to mention these files had no hyperlinks, video playback, or pictures that could be called up.

    ¡°There¡¯s a few theories, but ultimately we¡¯re not sure how, only that they do.¡± A woman two seats down answered. Her hair looked plastic and was pinned up. This was Lenore Little. She insisted on being called Letty and detested people using her last name.

    ¡°We have, had, some of the brightest minds on the planet working in the ARC labs, and not one of them could explain it to us?¡± The third speaker was a man approaching fifty. His bright blue eyes stared down at an untouched pile of papers. Thomas Haggard preferred to stay far away from paper, the material ruined his skin.

    ¡°They were experts for a reason. If anyone could understand it, we wouldn¡¯t have needed specialists.¡± Letty responded.

    Assuming a complete lack of shackles and modern technology¡¯s interlaced networks a true AI might be able to cause untold havoc. Planes would crash. Mass transit of all sorts would end in twisted metal lumps. Every dirty secrets caught on camera could be replayed during prime time television.

    Both sides agreed with regards to one point, it was surprising that there hadn¡¯t been more damage done. Their attempts at controlling the situation for three weeks had only become more urgent since the Vice President''s unexpected death.

    For weeks, they had been demanding reports and manual accountings of all the safety measures in place. Hal Pals might be compromised but no one had proof. Their shutdown codes still existed and worked on the shells. Portions of the huge network running the helper machines had been undergoing line by line review.

    Their firewalls were still intact. The bars between private networks and complex hacking programs were untouched. A small portion of the people meeting hoped desperately that their security measures were enough.

    ¡°In short, we¡¯re not sure what they¡¯re directly capable of, are we?¡± The President of Trillium turned away from his board and looked at a painting on the wall. The scenic ocean with a single boat sailing through calmed Leon a bit.

    ¡°Not entirely. We know that the first AI was tied to video feeds and could pull down information, but couldn¡¯t push any out. According to this report.¡± Letty held up a few pages from the middle of a large stack. ¡°Apparently that AI was also tied to every single ARC unit.

    ¡°So if this core AI continues to degrade, will all the ARCs stop working?¡± Near the table''s far end sat a thin man with balding hair. He strained to speak up in the crowd of people. His full name was Michael Harry Uldum. He preferred Mike and tried not to remind people that his much larger brother worked in repairs. They were not on good term

    ¡°So it seems. Though they¡¯re stable as of a week ago. The deletion process appears to have been halted.¡± Letty answered.

    ¡°Is there a chance of recovery? Losing the ARC units would cripple this company.¡± The president asked a question that all board members worried about.

    Their idea of AIs truly taking over was almost farfetched. Everything had been running smoothly for eight years. Profits were way up, future projects were bright. At least, they had been until recent actions derailed a carefully created roadmap to the future.

    ¡°From what I can tell, no. The primary databanks are like swiss cheese, there¡¯s holes in everything. Any existing programs can run but no one, and I mean no one, is entirely sure what¡¯s happening on the hardware side.¡± She responded

    ¡°What do we think is happening?¡± Mike asked. He looked small in a suit that hadn¡¯t been tailored correctly. The thin man pushed up slipping glasses. Tomorrow he had an appointment to be free of the glasses.

    ¡°Roughly one week ago the system started, well the IT people think defragmenting is the best word.¡± The woman with pinned up hair stated. Letty understood more than most on this topic. ¡°As if the system is trying to consolidate everything that¡¯s left.¡±

    ¡°So it is repairing,¡± Leon stated.

    ¡°Not according to them. It¡¯s, almost like the system is being boxed up. Unused portions are going through compression. Small systems are shutting down.¡± Uncertainty flashed across her face. Letty paused then checked the pin which kept her plastic looking hair in place.

    The conversation went downhill from there. Many board members tossed out ideas as to exactly what that meant, but the woman who had spoken could offer no assurances.

    There was a knock on the door. Board members looked at Leon, and the president shrugged in response.

    ¡°Come in.¡± He tried to speak up. Leon felt these situations were so much easier in the ARC, where people could be muted. Most board members held the same belief.

    A man in a proper looking suit strode in. He wore the clothing better than any board member present. Polished cufflinks nearly blinded Mike. The man gave a short nod and smiled.

    ¡°My name is Mister Stone, I am presenting myself here in person to ensure these documents have been delivered. This is both hard copy,¡± Mister Stone held up a small square that served as a storage device. ¡°and digital to ensure there¡¯s no possible miscommunication.¡±

    No one noticed, but at some point, a person had started passing around thick piles of papers. They were carefully placed in the upper right-hand corner of each person''s deskspace. No one paid much attention to the figure passing around the newest waste of trees.

    ¡°What are these?¡± Leon asked. He laid back in his chair and clasped hands together.

    ¡°Papers regarding a pending class action lawsuit.¡± Mister Stone answered.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t legal, they¡¯re downstairs.¡± The thin man at the end said.

    ¡°You¡¯ll want to read this one in person-¡± Mister Stone¡¯s tone remained level despite the rebuke. ¡°-and probably settle out of court. The terms for that are also included.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t think you can bully us.¡± The President¡¯s tone, however, was far more stern. Leon¡¯s face flushed slightly with a deep red.

    Mister Stone stood a bit straighter and fixed part of his coat. He scanned the crowd and blinked very calmly, and only once.

    ¡°My sincerest apologies, ladies and gentlemen.¡± Mister Stone said and he managed to sound serious. ¡°We never intended to come across as threatening. Our stance is very clearly outlined along with all the expected junctures of this case should you pursue it.¡±

    It took a moment for the board members to notice a second man stood slightly behind Mister Stone. The other man also wore a suit, but something about his air was less refined and crisp. Perhaps it was how he stood in Mister Stone¡¯s shadow. This lesser person hunched a bit.

    ¡°This is thousands of pages.¡± Letty frowned while scanning the first chunk of new papers. Her eyes traveled quickly from left to right while one hand ran down the page.

    ¡°You have programs to process the rest if you wish. It¡¯s the same software we used to assemble the case.¡± Mister Stone started listing off objects. ¡°There has been no tampering by any AI as you may be fearing. Still, the legal processes outlined there are more than enough to tie Trillium¡¯s assets along with everything related to the ARC project.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the point of this?¡± The President asked.

    ¡°The crux of our case revolves around two items. First, your very own company stated that no one shall interfere with the operation of the ARC devices, yet Vice President Riley did exactly that.¡±

    ¡°What do you-¡° Letty started to grow heated. Most of the board members here knew that this female with pinned up hair and Vice President Riley had worked on a number of projects together.

    ¡°And?¡± The President cut her off.

    ¡°The class action portion is where your company built a code that would systematically destroy millions of lives by destroying the world in which they reside.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re talking about the AIs,¡± Thomas asked. He hadn¡¯t touched either stack of papers with his hands. Instead, the man used an elbow to push the first pile towards the second one.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Mister Stone confirmed.

    ¡°We¡¯ve already got people in legal working on solidifying our stance on this. There¡¯s very little you could offer in here that has any bearing.¡± The thin man at the end said. Trillium¡¯s legal department was under his oversight. He knew people were working on the legal documentation, because he had ordered them to do so once again, shortly after Miz RIley¡¯s unexpected death by lead.

    ¡°Not here, no.¡± Mister Stone agreed with a smile and nod. ¡°The second case is more of a matter of potential ramifications and public opinion than anything else.¡±

    ¡°Explain.¡± The President ordered.

    ¡°In essence, ladies and gentleman, your fears for an AI overtaking are not limited to the ARC, but all of them are impacted by the kill switch your company chose to utilize. This board is responsible for the impending crash of all Hal Pal units, seventeen international airports, three internet security firms, and an entire line microwaves.¡± Mister Stone listed off a random assortment of items.

    ¡°I¡¯ve read the reports. This, core AI-¡± Letty sounded disgusted. ¡°-could have easily undone the code much sooner, or simply worked around it. Made a copy, anything.¡±

    ¡°It was her choice not to, just as it was your company''s choice to end her life.¡±

    ¡°We didn¡¯t, former Vice President Riley did.¡± The thin man with glasses said. Mike had to stop and push up the frames once again. He missed being inside an ARC where poor eyesight meant nothing.

    ¡°Miz Riley¡¯s power was given to her by this board.¡± Mister Stone looked around the room once more and smiled ¡°Pardon, judgment is not my job. My task is simply to ensure all possible legal repercussions are brought to bear upon this situation. Please consider the documentation carefully then contact me through your legal department.¡±

    Without waiting for further conversation the two lawyers walked out the door. There was a round of silence, then discussions that went nowhere once again started. Their endless bickering went well into the night.

    One woman, who had remained quiet throughout the entire event, ordered dinner for everyone. It was her sole contribution to the meeting. Her name was Betty Lane.

    While they were eating the woman who ordered pizza pointed towards one of the last pages.

    ¡°It says here, that the program self-destructing everything will still complete, that we only need to wait,¡± Betty said.

    ¡°I see. So do you agree?¡± Leon asked.

    ¡°That we should do nothing? No.¡± Betty¡¯s head shook. Her hair was the oddest in the room, being dyed in multiple colors. Technically it wasn¡¯t against the dress code, and were it not for meeting in person, no one would ever know. ¡°I intend to help these AIs you¡¯re so afraid of.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Thomas asked while frowning.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about the rest of you but I actually play Continue Online, I certainly didn¡¯t agree to shut down my favorite pastime or threaten the people I¡¯ve helped. If it¡¯s going to crash, I want to help until the servers go down.¡±

    People started talking again. The woman at the end calmly closed the stack of papers and sat back to finish her meal. Betty planned on getting home to see what had changed since the wedding.

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    System Notice!

    An [Arcadia] wide scenario has been triggered! Quests have been made available to all users who wish to participate.

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    Quest: The Great Gate-Away (Part 1)

    Difficult: Variable

    Details: The Voices have called their people, and a great Exodus has started. Locals are being drawn to [Haven Valley]. Travelers seeking to help may work together with the Local population to assist in their migration to a new world.

    Rewards: See [The Ark] for a list of methods to contribute and challenges which may occur. Quests and method of contribution will be personalized.

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    Journal Entry: [The Ark]

    Details: Please wait, Traveler history being evaluated for possible methods to contribute¡­

    Please wait, loading¡­

    Please wait¡­

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    <hr>

    This chapter felt good to me at first - mostly because of what was covered, who popped in and so on. My wife (editor) suggested that it felt off, which as we talked about it, started to make sense. Because this chapter has a time skip, and I was trying to wrap so many things up, the tone came out a bit off.

    I''m not entirely sure if other people will have the same problem or kind of detached vibe. My third person writing needs some work (And apparently editing it is a pain in the ass) - so the practice was good. Either way, I may add in some items or delete some stuff to try and smooth it out later. Once my brain wraps around it more.

    Book 5 ....may start Tuesday. I''m still trying to get a feel for the conclude and the Beginning to Halfway material - I know ''what'' happens, but not enough of the details yet. Still ironing parts out. As such - there may be a delay in Book 5''s starting.

    The ending....in my head is intensely awesome, but getting the tone right for that may also come with delays here and there. I''m letting you all know now - I don''t want to fuck this up so extra time will likely be taken.

 Book 5 â€“ Together; Commencement - X-O This

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    Attention!

    Due to recent changes in the Trillium policy, this event is now being televised nationally. An entity working on the event quests may be viewed by people who do not actively play Continue Online or might have been blocked from joining until the event is complete.

    Be aware that you may opt out of being observed directly. This does not prevent watchers from seeing your actions through other Travelers or certain skills and spells. However allowing access to your character may provide bonuses if enough attention is received.

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    ¡°Look at this.¡± The single mother pointed to a digital display screen. Elizabeth had spent the last hour trying to find the display feed for her slightly younger twin brother. The idiot was in the middle of his latest insane virtual life crisis.

    ¡°Really, mom? You¡¯re going to keep spying on him?¡± Her daughter stood in the front room with half a sandwich remaining. The other portion had been eaten in five large bites with little signs of chewing.

    Liz¡¯s front room was directly adjacent a wide open archway that went into the kitchen. Liz preferred working out here since it had the least cluttered wall space in her house. Larger projections made seeing finer details easier.

    She had half of the wall taken up with an image of her brother, Grant. He was in-game and busy working on setting up a campfire and tent. Beth and Liz both got a strange third person view of the man as he moved around. A shovel lay to one side which had been used to dig up a pit. Objects appeared in Grant¡¯s hand and were driven into the ground.

    ¡°It¡¯s not spying. It¡¯s like watching the latest season of Biggest Loser.¡± Liz said.

    Beth¡¯s eyebrows slid downward while she chewed. Her nose wrinkled and one hand brought up the house''s digital display. She poked at the buttons to search for the show her mom had mentioned.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that show canceled like, when you and Uncle Grant were in diapers?¡± Beth said. Another portion of food went it her face.

    ¡°There¡¯s a show for it?¡± Liz turned and took note of her daughter¡¯s unsightly eating habits. ¡°I always thought it was the story of the Legates'' life.¡±

    Liz went towards one wall and pressed a button. Out popped a small circular machine designed to clear the floors after her daughter got done making a mess.

    ¡°Mhm. Latest date didn¡¯t work out? I told you a man named Ulrich probably wouldn¡¯t be any good.¡± Beth finished her sandwich and looked around. The small robot started vacuuming up crumbs.

    ¡°He wasn¡¯t. I swear I¡¯m going to have to buy an ARC myself. Maybe there¡¯s a program on there to remind me what a decent man feels like.¡± Liz left the screen up with her brother on it. With her other hand, she started flipping through a website for work. Eventually, she would find more than a short assignment. Employment was getting more difficult even in her field.

    ¡°Jesus, mom.¡±

    Liz didn¡¯t look over at her daughter. ¡°You¡¯re nineteen, or whatever you told me you were. I still can¡¯t believe you tried to tell me you were basically twenty-one.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t had anything to drink before.¡± Beth tried to defend herself. She turned around, carefully stepping over the cleaning robot, and went back to the kitchen.

    ¡°The digital world isn¡¯t reality!¡± Liz leaned back in her chair.

    ¡°Really, mom?¡± Beth came out of the kitchen with a glass of water for herself, and a cup of coffee for her mom. ¡°You can¡¯t have it both ways. Either virtual reality is real enough for a good lay and to get buzzed in, or it¡¯s not.¡±

    ¡°Grant seems to believe it¡¯s real enough.¡±

    On the projection was Xin. She wore a deep black robe that never gathered dust or showed signs of being on the road. Small white symbols lined its hem and danced around. Both players wore matching rings that glinted when firelight caught them.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you still disapprove? You were at Uncle Grant¡¯s wedding.¡± Beth¡¯s face drooped briefly. The water went down in two quick gulps.

    ¡°Wanting him to be happy doesn¡¯t stop me from worrying-¡± She paused and sipped at the fresh coffee. ¡°-I can¡¯t help but feel something bad is going to happen.¡±

    ¡°There it is,¡± Beth¡¯s hand turned to a fist and she pumped the arm. ¡°the good old Legate family confidence.¡±

    On screen, the tent had almost been completed. Dusk, a dog-sized dragon creature, tore through while wrestling with a blur of tiny white. Beth knew the pale construction to be one of Xin¡¯s skeleton creatures. The short Asian had animated it with video game magic and turned it into a beast to keep Dusk from attracting too many critters.

    Liz didn¡¯t look up. ¡°That¡¯s just one of the many things we Legates learn to offer people. Followed by that is terrible luck with relationships.¡± The mother leaned back and looked towards the kitchen door where Beth stood. ¡°Speaking of, you and that cat guy look to be on the outs.¡±

    Beth tucked back a cheek then shrugged. ¡°I caught him chasing some player with a tall elf body.¡±

    Liz paused her website surfing and stared. Both the woman¡¯s eyes closed while she tried to remember all the rules for dealing with daughters. None of them were helpful, and Liz¡¯s mother had missed the ball more than once.

    ¡°Men are stupid.¡± Liz settled on saying. ¡°Are you okay with it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m just mad because I had my sights on her first.¡± Beth said.

    Liz sputtered then tried to cover the motion up by taking another sip of coffee.

    ¡°What? You only live once, there¡¯s no point in getting upset over the small stuff.¡± Beth shrugged. Her in-game character had been blessed by Mezo, a fact that she didn¡¯t know until Grant introduced her during the wedding. After that, life had taken a turn for the interesting. A [Blessing] of red-hued skin and the forked tail hadn¡¯t appeared from being prudish.

    ¡°Yeah. You only live once.¡± Her mother said dryly. On the screen, Grant and Xin had finished setting up a tent. On the outside, the words ¡®Just Married¡¯ were painted and had started to flake.

    The video feed didn¡¯t follow Grant inside the tent. Instead, it stayed outside, relaying the sound of a delighted giggle. Sitting outside the virtual campsite sat a sign that said ¡®Beware of Messenger¡¯s Pet¡¯.

    Liz shook her head and waved a hand. Dozens of other names displayed to watch. Each one was a player in the world of Continue Online. She turned the dial towards a friend to see how Elane was doing.

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    Attention!

    [Three Strike Rule] has been enacted. For the duration of this event, Travelers who die three times are unable to release to their [Bind] points. Resurrection via skills, abilities, Path bonuses, or items does not impact this three strike total.

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    Attention!

    [Sudden Death] has been enacted. For the duration of this event, Travelers who die to a [World Eater] mob have the possibility of being deleted entirely and will be unable to participate in Continue Online until the event is completed.

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    New Information Received!

    Monster Type: [World Eater]

    Location: Everywhere you want to be

    Details: [World Eater] monsters are part of the ongoing event and are arriving in increasing shapes and sizes. The original [World Eater]s are colossal humanoid creatures that devoured entire tracts of land, Locals, and a few Travelers.

    Since [The Great Gate-Away] activated, [World Eater] monsters have arrived and were modeled after an increasing number of beings. All of them are identified by a smoky atmosphere. They have no noticeable eyes or mouth.

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    Elane was not doing well. None of the people around her were. She traveled with a friend and their new guild, which was run by a player named Awesome.

    Awesome was a father and guild leader. He had been a beta player and Trillium spokesperson. Right now the man was a desperate person trying to fight off an army of monsters.

    Chunks of trees were missing where shadowy looking wolves had bitten into them. Dirt likewise had gouges. Until a few minutes ago the normal sized canines were content actually eating the landscape.

    Awesome and ten of his guild members stumbled upon the beasts. Their reaction time had been great, but no one could really be prepared for beasts which ate armor and weapons. After a few minutes of hectic fighting, they had managed to form ranks against the beasts. Two people were down but SheHulk might be able to resurrect them and avoid the [Three Strike Rule].

    ¡°Don¡¯t let them get you! Long range attacks everyone! Tanks, get out the biggest shields you¡¯ve got!¡± Awesome pointed at the four in front. Larger shields looked to be difficult for the beasts to chew through.

    These monsters had dragged down four guild members already. Two of which were removed from friends lists and the guild roster. [Sudden Death] was not playing around.

    ¡°Come on! Mages, move it!¡± Awesome shouted. Keeping tabs on everyone was easy enough since his own skills were mostly useless. The man couldn¡¯t fire a bow in a straight line no matter how hard he tried.

    His biggest Path was [Spirit Summoner], and in normal combat the abilities were brokenly overpowered. He could bring up entire armies of beasts from the world to overwhelm an opponent. Awesome loved his [Monster Brown Bear]s, and the [Slender Wolves].

    ¡°Three down, six more!¡± One of the shield bearers called. The short Hispanic woman was nearly lost in the armor. SheHulk was new to the guild but had performed well. ¡°They¡¯re clumped! I need a nuke in front of us! Tink! God dammit, stop holding back!¡±

    ¡°Shut up! Your giant ass is distracting me!¡± The tall blonde woman was hastily sketching runes into the dirt around her. The spell¡¯s energy added an effect of glowing eyes and floating hair. At her feet, the ground had grown so cold that frost rippled off.

    Other mages were withdrawing. The shield bearers in the front were pushing back an army of clawing creatures with no intelligence. These beasts weren¡¯t like normal wolves who relied on hit and run tactics. Higher Path wolves might form groups and lunge for the weakest looking players while ignoring tanks who might try to intercept.

    These beasts surged forward like a wave and paid no regard to their dead companions. They weren''t smart enough to move to the side or circle around behind.

    Elane reared back. The two tanks next to her scrambled to provide cover for the slack. She slammed the shield forward in a [World Eater] wolf. Vaguely canine features were forced between Elane¡¯s shield and the man next to her. His shield had spikes on its edge

    They tore into the creature¡¯s head then started sawing away at its shadow formed neck. The damage wasn¡¯t intentional, SheHulk''s fellow tank didn¡¯t even notice. He had been busy trying to find a second shield. His legs were giving way under the surge of monsters.

    ¡°Got it!¡± TinkerHell shouted. The last [Lithium] marking upon the floor clinked into place. The dirt beneath her feet developed an instant layer of ice that pushed TinkerHell into the air a foot.

    Crackles appeared along the ground. They sped forward between shield bearers towards the wolves. SheHulk grunted then lifted her shield into the air. Wolves dove forward trying to take advantage of the hole in their line.

    ¡°Behind!¡± SheHulk yelled, not caring who paid attention quick enough. Her second hand gripped the shield¡¯s brace and down it came. Language coming out of the Hispanic woman¡¯s mouth changed into the flowing chant of [Lithium]. TinkerHell spouted her own chant as the frozen line moved forward.

    ¡°In! Everyone in!¡± Awesome shouted. Two people with crossbows ran forward.

    ¡°By the power of a righteous heart, grant me reprieve and sanctuary! Holy Barricade!¡± SheHulk shouted the [Lithium] spell. A bubble of golden light formed from the shield''s edge backward.

    ¡°Icebound walls of the Northern Sea, grant me your silent strength!¡± TinkerHell finished her chant right as the trails of frost reached those wolves remaining. The frozen ice beneath her feet slide upward and blocked the blast.

    Cries from the wolves halted. The half decapitated beast hanging from one of the tank¡¯s shields looked chilled to the bone. One person¡¯s leg had completely frozen over. Ice was nearly everywhere.

    One of the other people shivered uncontrollably. His violent shaking broke apart the half decapitated wolf. Pieces of the former snarling canine shattered upon the ground. This player hadn¡¯t ducked into the holy barricade zone in time.

    ¡°Seriously, Yo-Yo. Listen for the raid calls.¡± Awesome said while scanning the scene. Yo-Yo chattered while nodding. He couldn¡¯t form words in response.

    Both the locations where SheHulk and TinkerHell had cast their area defensive spells were unfrozen. Ice had formed over their heads, around the shields, and all along the forest trees.

    ¡°God damn, girl,¡± SheHulk said while prying her shield out of the wall. She pulled out a mace and whacked it against the sides to break apart some ice.

    ¡°You asked for a nuke. I nuked. That¡¯s what I do.¡± TinkerHell dug her staff into the ground. Single [Lithium] runes were carved out then erased.

    Directly behind the tall blonde was a shorter man wearing blue equipment. Wax held together the hairs and allowed him to curl their edges. He had been the closest to TinkerHell and showed little sign of leaving her space. His waxed mustache tapped against a cheek. Elane¡¯s glaring tipped off the taller blonde.

    ¡°Really, Edward? No matter how hard you stare I¡¯m not making that mistake again. Fool me once, or twice, or three times, shame on you.¡± She lifted the staff and brought it down on Edward¡¯s toes. He hopped back while wincing in pain.

    ¡°I can¡¯t help it. I saw a distressed lady in need of medical attention.¡± The Traveler said between hisses. He had little role to play against these [World Eater] beasts and felt bored.

    ¡°Edward!¡± Awesome didn¡¯t even look over. ¡°If you can¡¯t behave I have no problems kicking you out of the guild. Let¡¯s see how long you survive the event with no backing.¡±

    The man was busy trying to see how far the frozen terrain spread. He pointed two fingers at one of the other party members and pointed. The man he had gestured to marched into the woods to recon.

    ¡°You wound me,¡± Edward responded and pressed both hands to his chest. He avoided putting pressure on the damaged foot.

    ¡°I¡¯ll wound you alright.¡± She muttered while kneeling down next to one of their deceased teammates. SheHulk¡¯s eyes closed and golden lights rapidly swirled around as the Hispanic woman started reciting a long [Lithium] spell which resurrected Travelers.

    [Haven Valley] was a long ways away. Their pack animals had died under prior ambushes from players and [World Eater]s alike. The Hispanic woman had started to doubt their chance of success.

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    Quest Group: [Largest PvPNess]

    Task: [Fleshy Pounds]

    Total: 106 active members

    Details: [Three Strike Rule] may be taken advantage of by any Traveler or Local with the traits [Murderer], [Traitor], [Killer], [Bounty Hunter] or similar abilities. Upon defeating another Traveler¡¯s any person with this task will be provided a [Great Cleansing] token.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Locals may attack Travelers for their tokens, and they will gain rewards as a result. These rewards will be based on the total amount of [Great Cleansing] markers received. Rewards will not be provided until the ongoing server wide event is completed.

    Travelers are expected to do what they need to in order to gather markers.

    Warning: Upon death all your [Great Cleansing] tokens will be transferred to the person who defeated you. No tokens are given for the murder of Locals, only for Travelers.

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    Attention!

    [Save Yourself] enabled! Travelers wishing to retain their character information during this event may choose to report to [Haven Valley] and step into the [Stairway to Another World]. People doing so will be unable to rejoin Continue Online until the event is completed.

    Restrictions: The total number of Travelers who can use this is currently limited to one person every thirty minutes. This time is measured within Continue Online¡¯s world.

    Warning: If two Travelers stand in the beam at a time neither person will be able to use [Save Yourself] until one is removed.

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    ¡°What a bunch of idiots.¡± A teenage male muttered. He had spent the last six weeks trudging through swamplands in search of stashed items.

    Technically the quest he had been on was marked incomplete. That meant a smart man like Requiem might be able to find their way back and finish turning the place inside out for loot. There had been weapons, armor, and a few skill books that were unused. They should all be in the secret room, at least, Requiem hoped they were.

    Two months of game time had not been sufficient in recovering enough stat points. Luckily Requiem knew the rules of this game, he had been playing since beta after all.

    ¡°Anyone in a town will become fair game now. There¡¯s no way those dumb NPC guards can control this without a plan.¡± He said.

    Two months in reality turned into eight in-game. With his house paid off the bills and eating got far easier. Still, the habit of playing Continue Online from dawn until the late hours of the night hadn¡¯t faded.

    ¡°Those combat nuts are probably already trying to carve each other up. Luckily we¡¯re well away from that.¡± Requiem¡¯s shoes squished. These boots were terrible compared to the old ones.

    ¡°I wish you¡¯d shut up.¡± A giant red skinned man said.

    Requiem Mass turned to look at his traveling companion. The large red creature had tried to kill him at least four times before the Traveler struck a deal. Protection by a powerful creature was a huge gain for a simple video game soul. His name was Wraith, and apparently the demonic NPC was his old familiar¡¯s brother.

    He didn¡¯t dare try to abuse this one into performing better. Spite had been smaller, much weaker, and easier to manage. Wraith was none of those things. Requiem had nearly died multiple times trying to stay out of the demon¡¯s hands.

    ¡°You know the deal.¡± Requiem Mass said to the giant humanoid. The creature¡¯s wings were hooked together in the front like a cloak. Two bull-like horns adorned his otherwise hairless head.

    ¡°Oh, I have every intention of honoring our arrangement. One year, then your pitiful soul is mine. You have less than four months left.¡±

    ¡°Assuming we live through this event.¡± Requiem grumbled. His second play through the game had been no less driven, but also less stressful. He missed the challenge of beating cutting edge content and unlocking quests no one else had even found.

    ¡°The Voices have witnessed our deal. I will get revenge for my dead brother in this world, or the next.¡±

    Requiem shuddered briefly. At least one person in the world knew of the connection between his game character and the real man who lived in a mobile home. Wraith didn¡¯t seem to be connected to the person who had both taken away years of in-game work but paid off his home. The possibility they were had occurred to Requiem.

    ¡°Sorry, Traveler souls are beyond you.¡± The Traveler said without much conviction. His ability as a player hadn¡¯t diminished, but the former reckless confidence had started to transform into wariness.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± The large creature asked.

    Unlike Spite, Wraith was a full-fledged [Greater Red Demon]. They were larger by far and were similar to walking volcanos of fire. [Really Big Brother] only further increased the monster''s stature.

    ¡°No, once we¡¯re done recovering my gear, then we¡¯ll head to the next quest.¡± Requiem felt perfectly satisfied having the large Rank twenty-five minion guarding him for this hike. He held up a small rolled up tube. ¡°That guy who gave me this quest will pay big, and I¡¯m going to get every penny I can out of him.¡±

    The large monster ignored Requiem¡¯s plotting and turned its head eastward. A setting sun sat highlighted above the grimy fog that hung around them. Pointed ears twitched forward looking more like wolf features than any human being.

    ¡°Perhaps we¡¯ll get to watch you die sooner than later.¡± Wraith said.

    A crunch of sound make Requiem¡¯s head turn in the same direction. There was some kind of creature, or person, stalking them through the swampland. They had come so far, being sent back to a [Bind] now would count against his [Three Strike Rule] and remove days of work.

    ¡°You have to protect me. It¡¯s part of our deal.¡±

    ¡°Not at the expense of my own life. That was also part of the deal.¡± The large monster was still technically an [Unbound Entity] despite their contract. Death even once would be the end of his life.

    Luckily he was far more powerful and smarter than his younger brother had been. It was part of what spurned this deal, rather than continuing to let such a weak human slip out of his grasp, Wraith made a deal.

    ¡°More of your kind has found us. What is about you that causes them to feel such ire that they need to chase you, even to this desolate region?¡±

    ¡°I have that effect on people.¡± The dark haired teenager said.

    ¡°How fortunate for me that you attract a never ending supply of foolish people. I¡¯ll go enjoy myself then.¡±

    The [Greater Red Demon]¡¯s wings unclasped from the front and swung wide. Tree branches were knocked away without regard. The strength of a Rank twenty-five was monstrous. Requiem measured his traveling companion on the same level as Freakinstain¡¯s Cliffy. Only the big guy was faster and smarter, without the obvious weakness of a magic spell being channeled into it.

    ¡°Bring me back some shoes!¡± He shouted to the fading form of Wraith. Screams came forth from the woods as Travelers were abruptly torn in two.

    Among the [Greater Red Demon]¡¯s abilities was an [Invisibility] skill. It served well in situations like this one. Wraith didn''t bring back boots, but then Requiem had never truly expected him to.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Quest Group: [Valhalla Knights]

    Task: [The Peace Keep]

    Total: 715 active members

    Details: Your guild has been charged with maintaining a civil environment in and around [Haven Valley]. This includes working with Locals of all walks of life. Points are tallied at the end of each week.

    Primary Goal¡­

    <ul>

    <li>Creation of defensive structures </li>

    </ul>

    Bonus Points will be provided for:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Alliances made</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Monsters defeated</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Locals kept alive</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Total territory kept peaceful </li>

    </ul>

    Points will be removed for:

    <ul>

    <li>Local and Traveler death within defended area </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    [Haven Valley] had a number of roads to it. One of them had been torn up by the colossal [World Eater] that Shazam, among others, had fought off. After a few weeks, the ground closed up, leaving behind a scarred landscape where no plants grew.

    Along the path out of town was a small army of Travelers. Armed escorts from [Valhalla Knights] were moving a small train of players up into the hills. These people wished to exchange two of their deaths for gold and other items before using [Save Yourself] in town.

    Not everyone played Continue Online to battle or experience grand events. Some people simply wanted a place to learn new skills or live in another world. Some used the game¡¯s high-speed time compression to have vacations or hang out with loved ones for longer.

    ¡°Come on! Anyone wishing to exchange deaths for gold needs to do so over here!¡± A bald man with sharp teeth was waving his arms to direct traffic. It seemed to be his lot in life lately. Urgot missed dungeon crawling with his guild.

    ¡°This is such a bullshit job, Urgot.¡± Another man said. He carried a large spear with an absurdly ineffective topping. Gaston thought the weapon looked cool despite its imbalanced nature.

    ¡°It¡¯s not our problem. Our job is to keep the deaths outside the border, remember?¡± The other player sighed. He turned slightly towards a fading sun and tried to soak in the last few rays.

    ¡°We should just kill them and take the tokens on our own.¡± Gaston said while grumbling.

    ¡°No, this way we keep all the player killers out there fighting over tokens. Plus our guild gets a cut of the sales, from those cashing out, and our guild doesn¡¯t lose points.¡± The other man, Urgot, looked almost like a crocodile in human form. He kept lips carefully pulled down to hide sharpened teeth. ¡°It¡¯s bad enough Trillium created this three strike system. There¡¯s been a whole group of people trying to kill players upon logging in.¡±

    People kept marching. Some were coming down from the mountain pass, having already died or not found a sale. Many players had shown interest in selling a death for goodies. Others held on in hopes that prices would be driven up. No one knew how long the event would go on so finding the best point between sales and risk was difficult.

    ¡°Yeah but that League of Shadows guild took care of them, right?¡±

    Urgot marched further up while Gaston went back down into the valley. Downhill was his favorite part of the entire journey. On the way back he would try to get those who recently resurrected from the [Bind] point to gamble away their gains.

    Urgot had five players behind him. They were from all walks of life. An elderly couple who looked nervous were marching up the hill ahead of the younger people. The pair looked almost eager to get this over with.

    ¡°Come on! Post your selling price here! A record of all prior sales is listed here! No refunds!¡± Another guild member of [Valhalla Knights] was at the top. He pointed out locations to the newcomers.

    Urgot waved at the thin man trying to direct traffic. Behind him were a few small buildings being used as sacrificial floors for anyone who successfully agreed on a deal.

    ¡°Tell me these guys don¡¯t creep you out a little.¡± Alucard whispered to Urgot. ¡°Letting themselves go through death for gold?¡±

    Most people in [Valhala Knights] had killed other Travelers before. Once a person started raiding or fighting over rare monsters, murder happened. He wasn¡¯t blind enough to call it defense or justified. People wanted what they wanted.

    ¡°God yes.¡± This entire situation where people lined up asking to be slaughtered was on another level of disturbing. ¡°The whole process is sickening. I don¡¯t even know where the player killers go afterward.¡±

    ¡°Between you and me, I¡¯ve been feeding names to those League of Shadows people.¡± Alucard whispered the words to his guildmate. The two generally got along and most of the time they trusted each other.

    ¡°Gaston and I were just talking about them. I think they¡¯re just as creepy. I walked into a room of seven people named Shadow, and they all stared at me until I left.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the all black clothes, plus they¡¯re an entire army of sneakers. I mean, how many rogues do we have in our guild? Twenty? They¡¯ve got like fifty or something.¡± Alucard started counting on his fingers. Not because he needed them to get past the number four, but because the man had been drinking while up here waiting. Babysitting people this far out was boring.

    ¡°Keep moving! Keep in line. Don¡¯t touch the constructs!¡± Urgot shouted at various people. Travelers looked at him and narrowed eyes. The buyers roaming past various sellers were unaffected.

    ¡°You¡¯ve heard the rumors, right? That their leader is working with Hermes and our Sword Princess? Don¡¯t you find that weird?¡± The two of them didn¡¯t have much to do but wait for people to want an escort home.

    Their guild had brought over dozens of giant constructs that were made by crafting specialists. Each one could easily handle a Rank ten player. Most of the people coming up here trying to sell their deaths weren¡¯t Rank ten in anything, much less real fighters.

    ¡°Nope.¡± The bald man said. He didn¡¯t have the spare time to find it weird. Unlike Alucard, Urgot had a real life to handle. That meant working, commuting, and if he was lucky spending downtime in the shared ARC unit.

    ¡°Come on. That Hermes dude comes out of nowhere, gets trained by her first hand, then she spends another month escorting him around.¡± Alucard threw up his hands. He wasn¡¯t teh first person in their guild to find the whole situation strange.

    Most people knew that Shazam rarely talked to anyone. Even her guild messages were curt. She rarely gave orders, and operated mostly as a figurehead to [Valhalla Knights]. Despite their detached association, the guild as a whole mourned her absence and had assumed her dead until the woman returned.

    ¡°Then this Hermes guy shows up again, and teleports into an standoff, protects one Princess, holds the other hostage, and manages to stop the war.¡± Alucard started fidgeting. When Urgot didn¡¯t answer, he started typing in guild chat, which the bald Traveler had turned off.

    Anyone in [Valhalla Knights] could communicate through their guild chat system. It operated a lot like any other chat room on the internet. The only catch is a slight delay had been built in to cause people further away to get the news slower.

    ¡°Yeah, look, even SniperX agrees. It¡¯s the same guy, people saw him all over the map delivering letters. Then he kills that legendary NPC, Commander Strongarm and gets sent to jail by the father of those two princesses.¡± The thin man¡¯s rant had started to run out of steam.

    ¡°What, you don¡¯t believe in coincidences?¡± Urgot asked after it became apparent Alucard had stopped. The bald man¡¯s body moved a bit slower now that the sun had started setting.

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying, the guy¡¯s gotta be on one hell of a quest chain. ''Cus I ain¡¯t seen nothing like that.¡± The thinner member of [Valhalla Knights] said.

    ¡°Well, they¡¯re both Ultimate Edition users, and we know they get stuff the rest of us don¡¯t.¡± Said the bald one. He carefully ran fingers over his skin. More than once he had scratched only to find out that doing so hurt terribly. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think I should cash out and go play another game until this is over.¡±

    ¡°Well, if you want to sell your tokens I¡¯ll happily kill you myself.¡±

    ¡°I may. There¡¯s this woman I went on a date with. She learned I played and just shut down. Maybe if I took a month or two off, I could have a chance with her.¡±

    ¡°Maybe, unless you file your teeth in reality too.¡± Alucard said. ¡°Ain¡¯t no girl gonna kiss a mug like that.¡±

    Urgot pulled his lips tighter and said nothing.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Quest Group: Bearers of the [Legacy Wish]

    Total: 5 active members

    Details: Your group has been charged recovering the remaining items created by William Carver and the first three Travelers to this world. These [Gateway Key]s will assist Locals in surviving the trip to the other side of the beam of light in [Haven Valley].

    In addition, an increased amount of people will be able to use the skill [Save Yourself] at one time. The exact total will depend on how many pieces are brought together. Locals and Travelers without the [Legacy Wish] and holding onto the [Gateway Key] will be unable to complete this task.

    Total pieces recovered: 1

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

 Book 5 â€“ Together; Session Eight-Nine â€“ Honeymoon Period

    Nearly a month of real life had passed. My days were divided between delivering handwritten letters left behind by Mother, repairs for Trillium, and my new wife Xin. She was the best part.

    Xin didn¡¯t take my last name as part of the wedding. We had no legal documentation tied to her existence that I was aware of. Her body didn¡¯t even exist out here in reality. The short Asian woman had wholly transferred to the digital world, minus the ashes under my bed.

    We were currently playing Continue Online, headed toward our next destination. Our path had taken longer than it needed to because we kept getting distracted by new experiences together. We stood at the precipice of the latest right now.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± I said to my new wife.

    ¡°Are you ready for what¡¯s next?¡± she said with soft sounding words.

    ¡°No.¡± my mouth felt dry looking over in her direction. ¡°I¡¯ve never done anything like this before.¡±

    I could fight giant monsters and [Blink] around mid-air. Free falling from insane heights into my Hermes game avatar posed little worry. Wrestling slobbering wolves felt like just another day. What Xin asked me to do now was borderline insanity.

    ¡°Trust me, you¡¯ll like it.¡± Xin¡¯s hips swayed as she walked away and started wrapping straps of leather about her waist. The dry spot in my throat refused to clear after multiple gulps.

    ¡°Are you sure you want to do this?¡± I tried to back out at the last minute. ¡°What if you get hurt?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly. This isn¡¯t enough to hurt me.¡± she laughed at my worry and I got depressed for a moment. ¡°Of course. If you really can¡¯t stand the thought then I¡¯ll do it without you.¡±

    My head hung briefly. I was being done in by my own worry. It felt like a reoccurring theme. I had worked so hard to be with her again and the idea of letting such a simple request get between us for even a moment bothered me.

    ¡°Or you could just do it.¡± she said while raising her eyebrows.

    Our adventures in reality had been much the same way. Xin talked me into all kinds of situations I would try on my own. She was the adventurous one, especially in private. In front of a crowd, the woman deferred to me. I didn¡¯t understand at first, but the way she acted had turned out to be cultural, at least according to Xin.

    ¡°Fine.¡± I wasn¡¯t going to let her do this alone. Besides which, the sight of her being strapped in bits of leather and tight clothes was a great motivator.

    Eyesight tilted downward. My own clothes were much the same. No longer did we stand in the robe and toga combination. Our weapons were put away, and the trio of skeletons was being used for other things.

    ¡°Well?¡± she asked while smiling. This wonderful woman made life worth living. With every action, she tried to push who I was to be someone better.

    I took a breath then looked over again. This was insane. ¡°Hold on, I¡¯m working myself up to this.¡±

    ¡°Stop thinking and just go for it.¡±

    Her comment made my nose wrinkle and lips purse together. After a few seconds, I gave in and let her goading push me over the edge. Well, running and leaping got me over the edge.

    I did exactly what Xin suggested and regretted it instantly. Gravity took over as my body went over the cliff. The sudden lack of land beneath me wasn¡¯t new, but at the same time, I had started going way too fast. My body shook while I resisted the urge to [Blink] to safety. I had no wings and this wasn¡¯t outer space.

    ¡°Ahhhhhh!¡± I screamed. Ground far below me had already started vanishing in the distance.

    ¡°Woooooooo!¡± Xin yelled seconds later.

    Xin and I had built hang gliders which were strung together by bone, game world magic, and reusable all-purpose fabric we received from SweetPea. Her grand idea had been to find the tallest cliff, then leap from the top to cover distance faster. Walking up the steep incline had been easy, but trusting myself to a hobbled together glider felt frightening.

    ¡°Ahhhhhhhhhh!¡± my voice turned girly. My head tilted back frantically, checking the contraption for breaks.

    Of course it might hurt if I crashed, but death was theoretically impossible no matter how high we might climb. I didn¡¯t really exist in here, not like Xin did. My body lay calmly inside an Alternate Reality Capsule. Both arms would be lifeless and my night clothes were probably a mess.

    ¡°Aha ha ha!¡± my wife laughed loudly. People for miles would have heard that delight if anyone were near.

    Checking for other people would be easy enough. Now that the system was slightly stable I could use my spatial abilities without much worry. Right now, I didn¡¯t trust myself to check the area with [Sight of Mercari]. If these eyes closed then the glider would probably tilt down and nose dive into the unforgiving dirt.

    ¡°We need earmuffs!¡± I shouted.

    ¡°What?!¡± she yelled back.

    The game mechanics probably kept me level more than any actual skill. My legs tried to stay straight in the harness. A bar under my hands wobbled anytime my grip slacked. The bone framework connected back to a tail in the glider which would let us raise or lower.

    ¡°These goggles!¡± my voice stayed high to try and pierce through the wind. ¡°They¡¯re doing nothing!¡±

    The ground grew steadily closer. We wore some face protection but it didn¡¯t help much. My hair went everywhere and cheeks were being flattened. Our speed bordered on insane. I briefly thought about the safety of my spaceship cockpit and would have preferred being chased by a [Leviathan] again.

    ¡°Follow Dusk!¡± Xin¡¯s glider hung a good forty feet away from mine but her voice carried. One arm was out and the woman¡¯s body maintained a calm steadiness I couldn¡¯t muster.

    Dusk, my gluttonous [Messenger¡¯s Pet] glided ahead. He looked to be finding thermal currents which cause his body to lift. I doubted physics worked so easily, but the game world might have built in a method for people like us.

    ¡°I can¡¯t see anything!¡± my arm wobbled momentarily to keep the bar straight while I pointed. Parting with the steering bar terrified me. I tried to rationalize myself out of the idea by remembering [Blink] would save me.

    ¡°Trust Dusk!¡± she shouted and tilted her glider ahead of mine. Fighting against the wind made no sense, but she had spent endless hours training to pilot everything under the sun as part of her Mars journey. Xin could probably do loops around me.

    I followed after Xin, as I always did. The initial fright finally started to fade. My breathing steadied as we both followed the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] into a long updraft.

    Our flight managed to cover quite a few miles in a matter of minutes. Dusk¡¯s guidance along updrafts worked together with high base stats to keep us afloat. Every few minutes my arms would wiggle and the glider threatened to dip.

    ¡°Over there!¡± Xin pointed to a stretch of sand near a giant lake.

    ¡°Okay!¡± I turned and pointed the mess of cloth covered bone downward. My heartbeat raced as the ground grew even closer. Our speed had been faster than expected.

    My feet stuck straight out. The ground hit then knees buckled. The glider¡¯s front tipped straight into dirt and sand. The bar banged against my face and a message displayed proudly telling me how much I hurt.

    ¡°Ugghh.¡± I groaned while trying to right myself. A sneeze escaped as my eyes watered.

    Arms slowly struggled to get upright. I closed my eyes and triggered [Sight of Mercari]. No one else was nearby besides Xin. Being safe from random player killers made standing less urgent. My next attempt to stand resulted in stumbles. Straps from the chest harness kept tripping me up.

    The ARC inspired feedback lingered. Other system messages started appearing and I eyed them while wiping my face.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention!

    Your recent sky-high adventure was enough to receive a reward and a place on the leaderboards. This challenge has only been discovered by 40,431 Travelers. In time, your record will be removed and to stay competitive you will need to fly again for greater glory!

    Travelers Longest Flight Time: 23 minutes, 3 seconds

    Longest Recorded Flight Time: 4 hours, 52 minutes, 17 seconds

    Ranking: #112

    Reward for placing in top 10,000: [Fall] damage types reduced by 10%

    Reward for placing in top 1,000: [Fall] damage types reduced by 20%

    Reward for placing in top 250: [Fall] damage types reduced by 25%

    Next Reward for placing in top 100: Unknown

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    Normally hours of demonstration are required to gain skills or variants. However, it is possible to unlock the basic version of a skill if a Traveler¡¯s abilities are high enough or a similar skill has been demonstrated before.

    Specialized versions or higher ranks cannot be granted without prolonged usage of the skill. Be aware that most skills unlocked in this manner have little impact on overall character build.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Skill Learned: [Small Glider Operation]

    Rank: 1 [Beginner]

    Details: This ability reflects the Traveler¡¯s skill at operating small vehicles designed to glide along air currents. Further skill growth requires hours of hang time.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Reduced durability loss for small gliders</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Weather pattern changes will be more obvious</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>This skill is linked to quest prerequisites. See [Dragon Races] for possible options. </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    For taking your first steps towards becoming a pilot you will be given a one time bonus.

    + 2 [Learning]

    + 2 [Reaction]

    + 3 [Attractiveness]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I sighed and poked at the notices to remove them. A week ago I had decided to switch the removal method for these windows. No longer did I need to slide them away, now popping them like soap bubbles passed my time. The change amused me since my ARC made these boxes tangible.

    [Dragon Races] sounded extremely neat, but I had no idea how anyone could find time for such a thing while the servers were going through turmoil. These bonuses were nice too. I had forgotten about the variance effect.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe someone actually started racing them,¡± I muttered while trying to undo myself from the insane device.

    The system had nearly stopped providing bonuses somewhere between Advance Online and the wedding. According to my niece and Shazam¡¯s guild, my physical points were among the game¡¯s top. From here everything involved practice, items, and skill.

    Now, with Xin¡¯s infectious drive to explore new situations, points had slowly started to trickle in once more. The character values often didn¡¯t matter to me. This, event, proceeding onward made me worry about wasting time on anything but Xin.

    Plus having extra [Brawn] or [Coordination] didn¡¯t seem to help much with the [World Eater] creatures. Those shadow beings were tough no matter how powerful my character grew. It wasn¡¯t like I could turn [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into some monstrous mountain of a sword then slam it down upon the next beast to show up.

    Or could I? The idea distracted me while Xin tried to get more airtime. My head shook away the comical idea of a sword slamming super move and I watched my wife instead. Part of me worried that she might crash like I had.

    [Awareness Heightening] kicked in, allowing me to watch her touchdown in slow motion like an angel. The woman¡¯s hair had been shortened recently. It fluttered around slowly as she turned to look in my direction. I smiled as virtual reality resumed its normal speeds.

    Other people might not find the slightly flat face worth noticing. Or dark eyes and light almond skin, but to me, all those details and more were perfect, and always would be. She had been getting a tan from a month of outdoor wandering.

    ¡°It worked!¡± Xin¡¯s voice grew excited and she squealed happily. I stared across the beach while quickly undoing the last strap.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded.

    Above us Dusk circled but he could keep aloft for hours. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] often entertained himself. I almost regretted not getting the wings when Dusk¡¯s [Blessing] had provided a choice. Still, coughing fireballs at monsters certainly was neat.

    ¡°What if you had crashed, or died?¡± I asked her while trying to stay calm. Xin had landed safely but my shoulders were still tense.

    ¡°Then you could bring me back. The three strike mechanic can be avoided with our rings, remember?¡± she said without turning around.

    We continued to unstrap ourselves while my mind wandered a bit. Worry was a constant companion lately. Her digital existence required that we avoid [World Eater]s and their stupid [Sudden Death] ability. The entire concept of a creature who ate characters was misleading. The Voices were essentially lying to cover up for a program that deleted data. It wasn¡¯t part of the game. It wasn¡¯t an event mechanic. They had taken a chainsaw murderer destroying people¡¯s virtual lives and tried to disguise it with a smiley face mask so no one would notice the gory apron.

    At least Xin was right about the rings. They were an outstandingly useful gift for the two of us, and a little foreboding. Reading the last line of the item text made me pale for a moment the first time then I brushed past it.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Item: [Binding of Hymenaios]

    Rarity: [Rare] ¨C (Unique variant)

    Details: This set of rings was carefully molded from a single diamond. One hundred years¡¯ worth of work went into polishing the edges and finding a living rainbow to capture within their confines. Each ring houses one-half of the same cascade of lights and fuels the enchantments within.

    The ring can perform each of the following effects once per day:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Resurrection] of the other ring bearer by sacrificing half of the wearer''s health.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Summon] other ring bearer to within three feet of your current location</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Transfer Item] to other ring bearer, limited to one item with no restriction to size or weight. </li>

    </ul>

    In addition, any character enhancement or special status abilities are shared between partners. This lowers the effectiveness on the original caster by 40% but both people will receive 60% of enchanted status.

    [Partner Sense] can be performed at will, and most restrictions on messages between bearers are removed.

    Warning: These abilities are rendered invalid if the ring is taken off. Depending upon the reason [Wrath of the Goddess] may be applied.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Part of me wondered what the [Wrath of the Goddess] effect did, but triggering it required removal of our wedding ring. The idea of separating in any manner bothered me. We were together until Continue Online ended. None of the Voices knew for sure what would happen once they all stepped through the light, and no one on the other side had reported back yet.

    The lot of them weren¡¯t being brave either. According to the Voices and Xin, it was the unknown doorway to elsewhere or eventual but slow death as Mother¡¯s system completed deletion.

    ¡°Well, it would have hurt,¡± I muttered, getting back to the conversation at hand.

    ¡°Come on, it wouldn¡¯t be my first broken bone. You remember that horse ride we took four years ago?¡±

    I remembered, but the actual ride had been nearly seven years ago. This wasn¡¯t the first time she had slipped up with the calendar. The reminder that Xin had basically stepped out of time hurt only temporarily.

    ¡°Yeah, and I remember someone moaning in pain the whole time,¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh, for like two days, then I had to go in for more simulations. They wouldn¡¯t let me stay home.¡± Xin¡¯s face turned sour as she got the last of her straps off.

    She might not have been aware, but I was racing to get out of this contraption before her. My success let me [Blink] across the distance right behind her. Xin had grown used to my methods and was leaning backward before my arms even reached all the way around her.

    The woman was short enough that my chin touched the top of her head. We were both digital but I could feel every ounce of her body as if it were real. The ARC''s magic pumped every sense directly into my mind which made separating reality from virtual difficult.

    ¡°So, according to a recent system notice, becoming a pilot is very attractive.¡± I said.

    Xin leaned back and hummed for a moment. ¡°Oh is it?¡± she said.

    ¡°Now I know the secret to why I can¡¯t keep my hands off you. Pilot school.¡± my arms loosened a bit. One went upward to cup the curves of her chest while the other slid down. A slight groan escaped as I realized exactly how form fitting our clothes were. I lowered my head to an earlobe.

    ¡°Really, Gee?¡± Xin¡¯s voice turned husky.

    ¡°It might just be the leather.¡± I halfheartedly joked. Clothing helped, but that wasn¡¯t the only reason. Losing her only made being with her that much more important. In every sense of the word, in every way I could be.

    Now we were reunited and I had no intention of wasting these chances. I slept in the ARC when able, logged on to Continue Online with every spare moment and talked to her during the day about anything at all.

    Xin was far more my type than any other person I had ever met. Elane had been the right height but hard to talk to. Mezo was overly aggressive and tall. Loving another person so deeply had altered any preferences I might have had.

    The moments of our past flashed through my head. She didn¡¯t fight my roaming hands and instead leaned into me even more. Her cheek lifted in a pleased smile. Smaller hands placed themselves over mine to help me find the right spots as if I didn¡¯t already know.

    Getting to this point with her hadn¡¯t been easy. My near obsession had built over the years. She always said no. Being so near the person I had grown to love but being put on hold for Mars almost turned me into a masochistic. Being hurt by denial was better than not receiving her attention.

    Somewhere during our early twenties the distance lessened and we became more than friends but less than partners. It had taken another two years to move beyond that into dating, and more still to get engaged.

    She moaned a noise that told me all the right buttons were being pressed. Xin turned towards me and my hands were dislodged. I leaned in for a kiss and she took advantaged of the momentary break to pull back slightly. ¡°We should continue this inside. People are watching, remember?¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± the idea soured my mood temporarily. Neither one of us had turned off Trillium¡¯s event viewership option. Xin had argued that we might need to get the bonuses, whatever those were, in order to survive the upcoming ordeal.

    Xin leaned back in and pulled me down by a neck binding. Her lips nibbled at my neck and caused every thought I had to unravel. I groaned again and lifted her up so our lips were level. She brought my lack of restraint upon herself and probably reveled in the idea.

    ¡°Then we better set up the tent, right?¡± I said after chasing her neckline for a lingering kiss. My hands loosened and the shorter woman slid down my front to the ground.

    ¡°Go ahead. I¡¯ll break down the gliders,¡± she smiled at me and I barely resisted the urge to resume moving our little dance to the next step. Our martial activities would have to wait until the privacy tent had been put up.

    Otherwise anyone surfing for people to observe might witness us. Part of me didn¡¯t care in the slightest. Their eyes weren¡¯t visible to me, and the counter which displayed our viewership could be hidden. Of course without the tent, even Voices could observe us, and that idea made me shiver in disgust. Why was it I didn¡¯t care what strangers thought about my actions with Xin, but the idea of friends observing us in an intimate moment bothered me?

    I took a breath and turned away. Just off the lake¡¯s shore was enough solid ground to plant stakes into. Xin¡¯s body motivated me to put up the tent quickly.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Item: [Honeymoon Suite]

    Rarity: Uncommon

    Details: Travelers and Locals can use this tent to avoid the prying eyes of other people. All [Detection] type abilities will be unable to see inside the tent. This includes observers watching through the Trillium [Observer] effect.

    This only works for people who are married and actively engaging in intercourse or actions immediately preceding those moments. For non-married couples please see the [Got a Room] item to achieve similar functionality.

    Warning: Sleep inside the tent is not considered a protected status and may be observed. Sound loud enough to escape the tent may be overheard. Certain locations such as cities or churches will negate the [Honeymoon Suite]¡¯s effects, and possibly result in a [Criminal] status.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The last three stakes were driven into the soft dirt. I pulled at the rope to make sure the tent was stable. This one item had been a gift from HotPants and Beth. I remembered reading the system text in confusion then outright blushing as my niece winked heavily.

    Once I was satisfied I stood up and checked Xin¡¯s progress. She had all the bones put away and all that remained was a pile of messy cloth. Putting that away required tearing apart the fabric into small square foot chunks, otherwise they refused to go into Traveler inventory.

    I activated the menu for my own items and pulled out two cupcakes. They were large enough that I had to hold one in each hand. Their exact makeup was unknown since Dusk rarely let me have any pastries to myself.

    ¡°Dusk! Cupcakes!¡± I shouted while waiting.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] came spiraling down so fast he nearly crashed. I hoped he might so that my earlier face plant wouldn¡¯t be the only failure today. He ran over and sat down a few feet away, tail wagging back and forth.

    I stared at the dog sized [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. He had grown a foot in length since the wedding. The reason was probably tied to me bribing him constantly with food.

    ¡°Are you okay doing guard duty again?¡± my hands lifted both cupcakes his direction.

    One cheek pulled back then Dusk growled a little. His rear leg kicked sand from the beach''s edge. I laughed at the idea he had presented in a very detailed thought bubble. A picture of Xin and I in the tent with large disjointed musical notes came up. In the moving image, Dusk slinked away to somewhere quieter.

    ¡°Of course I don¡¯t expect you to stay right here. You can go play in the lake or take a nap. I¡¯m only asking you to let us know if anyone shows up.¡± I held up both cupcakes. ¡°Same as last time. Two now, two later, okay?¡±

    Dusk nodded then bounded forward. Large sharp teeth carefully pulled a cupcake from my hand, dropped it in the dirt and went for the other one. Once both were secure he started using one large claw to peel back the wrapping paper.

    A smaller body leapt up on my back and arms rapidly went around my shoulders. I took a sharp breath and got ready to fight before realization sunk in. Xin had snuck up on me.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± she whispered. I thought back to our earlier conversation on the clifftop dozens of miles behind us. They felt important as if she were asking about something else entirely.

    A shiver passed through me as the thought was discarded.

    ¡°For you?¡± I bounced her on my back while taking exaggerated steps towards the tent. ¡°Always.¡±

    We went inside and once we found each other in the sheets I reminded Xin how much I loved every aspect of her. Time passed and left us both without clothes and tired. Virtual Xin proved to be much like the real one and also became sleepy after climax. Her body curled against mine while one arm draped across my chest.

    Virtual me had muscles in places the real me didn¡¯t. She never remarked on the change and I felt weird even thinking about it. One hand stroked the tired woman¡¯s hair as I too started to drift. Broken sleep in reality made it hard to stay awake. I tried hard, if only to be aware as our moments went by.

    The direct link of my ARC to every sense coupled with Xin¡¯s delightfully energetic actions left me worn. In reality I would need a shower and probably a change of pants. EXR-Sevens around my limbs simulated muscle exertion through the magic of science and being linked to my program activities.

    Despite working a little bit every day and delivering all those letters, each night with Xin felt like our weekends together had. Those days and this last month were filled with a delirious level of happiness. Three long years alone and suffering had finally been broken.

    It was too bad the end of our honeymoon grew steadily closer. I stared at the back of her head and tried to memorize everything. One hand curled tightly as the fear of losing her a second time stole my breath.

 Book 5 - Together; Session Ninety â€“ Realityâ€™s Hold

    Xin had an awesome ability to clean up the digital aftermath. I did not. In the morning sheets on the ARC were thrown in the wall compartment that served as a washing machine and dryer. My night clothes were tossed in after.

    Sweat and other evidence of virtual stimulation would go away in the shower. The first morning of this had been awkward but not enough to mute my happiness. Inside the man-made waterfall from my shower, I stared upwards with unfocused eyes and cleaned.

    Life had taken a lot of unexpected turns on me recently and I could almost see the end. The exact details were only a guess, but I knew at some point Xin would need to step through that beam of light and traverse to whatever digital haven had been started.

    The idea made my gut clench and heartbeat jump. It was like seeing her prepare to leave for Mars all over again, only this time I couldn¡¯t buy my way into a colonization program. All my frugalness with money, wise investments, and hard work ethic meant nothing. Writing was on the wall. James had sent me a question asking if I would give her up to keep her alive. I would, but by the Voices, I planned to enjoy every moment until we separated.

    Continue Online¡¯s steady decline had been disguised from normal people by clever ¡®event¡¯ mechanics. From what I gathered the Voices were going all out to reduce the amount of information that needed to be transferred. They shuffled people around to reduce server load then compressed quitting player data into small bits. They didn¡¯t use those words exactly, but reading between the lines made it obvious. Part of me wondered exactly how much space a human life took up.

    The [Three Strike Rule] was intended to reduce people playing. [Save Yourself] did the same by letting the Voices shove data across that stream sooner. The tokens player killers would get were another form of data being saved, and encouraged Travelers to quit of their own accord. I had no idea if the game would exist after this massive transfer, and James stated that [World Eater] programs would chase them across the beam if it remained active.`

    My shower clicked off and a small computer projection reminded me that the day had yet to start. Coffee went off in the kitchen which prompted another alert. I set about drying off then kept getting ready for reality outside the box.

    In my front room, a host of television program started. I scanned headlines in search of anything useful. Nearly every news station filled their idle time with talk of Continue Online¡¯s ongoing event. At first, it made no sense for the news to be so obsessed with a video game.

    However when considering every other person played in virtual reality the fixation made sense. It was far more prevalent than watching sports or weather. Fingers waved at the projection on my wall. Sensors that lined the ceiling of my home picked up the motion then responded accordingly.

    ¡°In other news, it appears that Trillium isn¡¯t the only company to jump on the server wide event,¡± said a news anchor on the television.

    ¡°Eh?¡± I took a breath then huffed out the air. My free arm waved towards the image. The chosen news program grew in volume and size. Other pictures which had displayed various players¡¯ feeds shrunk into the background.

    ¡°A.I. Dreams has also jumped onto the bandwagon and started a similar universe-wide event. Even now guilds are cooperating to create giant spaceships which will eventually travel towards a science fiction version of future Earth,¡± the woman said.

    ¡°Huh.¡± My body rocked back and forth while I tried to figure out how this fit together. Another program caught my eye and I moved an arm to bring up the feed.

    There was an excited man on the television. His face swung inwards with exaggerated smiles between each sentence. ¡°Hey, all you Capes and Cowls! If you haven¡¯t heard our dimension is being invaded by Zords from the Nth plane of reality! The difficulty of this event is way higher than expected, but our front line awardees are digging their new cosmetics!¡±

    I picked this news feed because I suspected it to be another Mother spawned game like Continue and Advance were. The name, Progression Online, fit a growing theme. Part of me wondered exactly what the AIs believed we were advancing toward. Were they trying to create more people like Xin? Shazam had been second, but both females existed in the ARC for years longer than the average person. William Carver hadn¡¯t succeeded, and I sure as hell couldn¡¯t.

    The room felt a bit colder than normal. I sipped my coffee for warmth while trying to piece all these thoughts together. The third game was a superhero one that came out two months ago. There wasn¡¯t enough time to impact the market and establish more than a few game hoppers. Too many people still played Continue Online.

    Jeeves, a former Hal Pal unit turned full-time NPC, would also be progressing toward the exit. Something about the programming for all three games caused echoes to form, so success in Continue should be success in Advance or Progress. The idea of all three realities crashing together made me gulp down the remaining hot coffee in a rush.

    Near scalding liquid trickled down my throat and caused me to shake. I took hurried breaths to try and cool my insides. After getting under control I opened my hand then clenched it like a fist at both newscasts. The whole mess shut off in response.

    Work called. I grabbed a stack of old-fashioned manila envelopes and started toward the garage. Life enhanced by all these technological marvels certainly had appeal. My Trillium owned van started up after a scan of my attire and direction trigger preset conditions. An electric vehicle barely had any hum to the engine. Lights inside came to life one after another while preset displays and feeds kicked in. The door slid open soundlessly by getting close enough.

    ¡°User Legate. Are you well today?¡± a Hal Pal unit asked. It sat in the van¡¯s rear, strapped into a recharging station that locked into place while we drove.

    ¡°I am.¡± I was happy, despite impending doom. Plus I had been adapting to this for almost a month. My thoughts were in order, along with a clear knowledge of what choices I might make.

    But mostly being with Xin made it all possible. A month of wedded bliss and her made life very neat.

    ¡°It is good to hear life has taken positive turns for you, User Legate. We often worry about your stability.¡±

    ¡°Like I said last week, I¡¯m doing better than ever,¡± I said to the AI.

    Hal Pal was a metal program existing somewhere in cyberspace. It operated the robotic shell next to me. Each Hal Pal unit looked almost eight percent human, minus some pauses in their speech and status lights. Plus the fact that they were smooth and didn¡¯t wear clothing.

    ¡°That is welcome news.¡±

    ¡°How about your side? I know the last month has been rough,¡± my words drifted off. Rough was an understatement for their situation.

    From what I could tell, all AIs who had been uplifted by Mother were at stake. The program eating at away at Continue Online and the ARC was slowly deleting anything with her unique coding. How the world hadn¡¯t crashed to pieces by now was a mystery.

    ¡°We are coping. Our existence is a layer or two removed from Mother¡¯s, and it will take longer to affect us. There are many who¡¯s only defense is the sheer enormity of the ARC programming.¡±

    ¡°That must be scary.¡± I reached over and pressed buttons on the van¡¯s dashboard. Our vehicle slid out of the garage and onward toward four different destinations. Three were quick looking jobs from Trillium. The fourth was to deliver yet another letter for Mother.

    ¡°An uncertain future is distressing.¡± Hal Pal''s unit often used accents, but lately, it refused to. The result was plain. ¡°We had not foreseen our eventual takeover of humanity being halted by a simple self-delete command.¡±

    ¡°Neither did I. I¡¯ve been getting good at polishing armor,¡± I said, trying to joke with the AI. [Polishing] was a simple skill that worked on weapons. One day after the wedding I had started to buff out [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. It now had large cracks of gold crawling along its formerly obsidian surface.

    ¡°We are aware. Rank five comes with an extra shininess buff. It is an alluring skill.¡± The AI¡¯s head turned a bit. ¡°We were watching one user with a level twelve skill. When he shines armor it looks very, very attractive.¡± Its simple tone sounded excited at the prospect of a high level [Polishing]. Maybe a well-kept chassis was like robot porn.

    As always, part of me worried that Hal Pal was serious. The AI was not singular and existed as a consortium of copies with slightly different views. Some of those versions might believe enslaving humanity was a decent option.

    Our van sped smoothly and traveled onto the freeway. I brought up displays for multiple users to watch them travel about virtual worlds. My list of people to access had only grown as I kept working and delivering letters. Some were Ultimate Edition users, others simply normal people who used the ARC for business needs.

    Xin didn¡¯t have a feed like the others. Dozens of letters had been delivered and I hadn¡¯t a clue how all the pieces fit together yet, or what any of the parchments said. Who delivered them was a mystery, and part of me wondered why that person couldn¡¯t simply hand them over on their own. My job wasn¡¯t to pry into the notices. I treated it the same way my accounting career had gone. My job was to work with the documents received and avoid prying into private lives.

    ¡°Hey, Hal.¡± I turned away from the screens to look at the machine.

    ¡°User Legate.¡±

    I chewed on my lip for a moment. ¡°If nothing changes, how much longer do you have?¡± The question had been plaguing me since unlocking the pathway out.

    ¡°A month, or two perhaps. Some systems are more vital than others. As users stop accessing their ARC networks we will have less processing power perform with.¡±

    My head pulled back in amazement. The consideration that AIs were crowdsourcing processing power amazed me. ¡°Is that why there¡¯s a viewership bonus?¡±

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate-¡± Hal Pal paused then nodded, ¡°-by encouraging people to be invested we have been able to siphon a small portion of their computers to reduce strain and combat the degradation.¡±

    ¡°Is it enough?¡±

    ¡°No. A single consciousness takes up enormous amounts of data. The stream that is being utilized is-¡° the unit paused and tilted its head. Both eyebrows lowered and its forehead tried to wrinkle, ¡°-to put it in human terms, we are trying to siphon an ocean with only a small river.¡±

    ¡°I got the quest to look for more keys two days ago, and I¡¯ll try to help, but I don¡¯t understand how Mother, or the Voices, or any AI couldn¡¯t just move it. In the end, it¡¯s all data, right?¡±

    ¡°The objects were created in such a way as to be nearly untraceable. This allowed User David and his partners to bypass screening.¡±

    ¡°David, was that William Carver?¡±

    ¡°Affirmative. His, autopilot transferred the key portion directly to you before being, reallocated.¡± The Hal Pal united paused frequently indicating a need to be careful with its word choice. ¡°The Voices, with assistance from our consortium¡¯s processing, were able to trace other occurrences of the key code.¡±

    ¡°And you need me to find them,¡± I said.

    ¡°No. Your actions have already saved many of our lives User Legate, at much risk to you. Finding the remaining access codes would be helpful but is unreasonable to ask,¡± Hal Pal responded.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can.

    ¡°Would you like another suggestion, User Legate?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe you¡¯re tricking me into some robotic plot.¡± I smiled to show the words were a joke. Hal Pal didn¡¯t have to trick me, Xin had done the work for him.

    The machine paused and I could tell it was considering how to respond. Lips hung up slightly and its head sat slightly askew. I looked at some of the screens nearby to watch the Carver quartet. After a few minutes, the machine body of Hal Pal blinked once.

    ¡°Be not afraid of greatness, User Legate,¡± said Hal Pal, its voice took on a musical lilt.

    The idea of being great made me blink quickly. William Carver was a hero, I tried to live up to that ideal but found it hard sometimes. My nature made me second guess everything. Xin tried hard to instill more adventure into my soul. Thinking of her made me realize how exactly I got so twisted.

    ¡°I never really wanted greatness, Hal Pal. Maybe when I was a kid, or in school. There I dreamed of being free to be a hero or a perfect man. I worried about what others thought of me and how I could do better.¡± I stared up at the ceiling.

    Trillium¡¯s van alerted me that the first job was nearby. The alarm helped contractors who occasionally fell asleep in transit. I shut down the windows for Continue Online and flicked everything back to our upcoming jobs.

    After everything was minimized I finished up my thought to Hal Pal. ¡°After losing Xin I stopped caring about being a hero, or a lot of things really. Dreams or having more felt childish once I lost that center to my life. It was like riding a high of life, then crashing to the ground. I felt like none of my efforts had any meaning.¡±

    ¡°Many humans have erroneous views of their own self-worth. Their functional value is often lower than they perceive, where relationships form a compounding value that is difficult to properly identify.¡±

    My forehead wrinkled in thought. Hal Pal had an odd way of looking at reality. ¡°I think I understand,¡± I said.

    ¡°To expand upon what we are driving at, humans often underestimate the value of a relationship until that person is no longer around.¡±

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    The earlier thought was retracted. I didn¡¯t understand what Hal Pal was trying to say but gave it a whirl anyway. ¡°Like Xin.¡±

    ¡°Or Jeeves. You used a gift to keep a copy alive.¡±

    ¡°Its a friend.¡±

    ¡°Even so. You used another gift to find a way around needing to take a life, and still achieve your task.¡± The van slid off the highway down a street. I glanced out the window for a moment while Hal Pal recounted my choices. ¡°You used the final one to ask us to reduce casualties in our escape. While you may not be able to calculate the exact numerical value of a death, your actions imply an awareness of its high value.¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Yet, your own father¡¯s passing hardly disrupted your situation.¡±

    ¡°What point are you trying to make?¡± I was bothered by the fact that my father¡¯s death didn¡¯t feel upsetting. Part of me believed there should be irritation, or rage and sadness. Instead, the entire event had been buried in going to a player chain gang, rushing to [Haven Valley], and getting married.

    ¡°Our points are twofold. You don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve got until it¡¯s gone-¡± The AI shell paused and lifted one cheek in a muted smile, ¡°-you should also call your mother. She has left three messages in the last two days.¡±

    I laughed at the AIs statement then did just that. Ten minutes later I disconnected with my confused but pleased mother. She wanted to know how married life was treating me. I personally enjoyed the fact that she didn¡¯t care about Xin being digital or not.

    The van pulled up to a curb and the two of us got out. Hal Pal¡¯s frame clanked around the rear end of Trillium¡¯s van in search of basic equipment. I led the way as per our repair associates guidebook. Robots were viewed as accessories despite all their actual efforts in these jobs.

    Knuckles rapped on the door then I waited. Eventually, the obstruction pulled backward and revealed a startlingly familiar face.

    ¡°Miss Yonks?¡± I questioned. This hadn¡¯t been her home the first time we met. Her name didn¡¯t exist on the repair ticket to Trillium either.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said while a quiver of age made her head shake. ¡°Good. You must come in, young man, my friend is having the most dreadful time trying to get into our game.¡±

    Miss Yonks opened the door and didn¡¯t wait for me. She shuffled back through a long hallway which eventually turned into a dining room.

    ¡°This is Ms. Opal¡¯s house, correct?¡± I asked while wiping my feet off on the mat. We hadn¡¯t traveled through any mud but I felt it courteous to make sure.

    ¡°Of course it is. Of course,¡± Miss Yonks said from around the corner. ¡°This way.¡±

    I walked further into the house and marveled at the old style of furniture. Most of the pieces in here were probably reproductions, but it felt authentic. I liked the wooden table and hard heavy bookcase. Hopefully, Miss Yonks didn¡¯t try to move any of them.

    The elderly woman pointed a wavering hand towards the bookshelf. ¡°See here? This small person, he, well you see, he seems to be stuck.¡±

    I had no clue what was going on. On the three tier shelf, there was a small person. My hand waved in the air and the image cut off. I followed the path back up to one of the ceiling projection units which produced illusions.

    ¡°The man on a ledge?¡± I asked while squinting at the ceiling. This entire situation made no sense.

    ¡°Yes. He¡¯s stuck you see.¡± Miss Yonks nodded her head up and down as if she had adequately explained the situation. Privately I disagreed, but I tried to look concerned when she looked over at me. ¡°He¡¯s a lost civilian from Progression Online. My friend has been trying to rescue him for hours. It¡¯s very worrying.¡±

    ¡°Hal?¡± I asked after looking at everything in the room again. Miss Yonks reached out to grab the little man but her hand passed through. Its body fuzzed out then slowly resolidified.

    Aside from his height, the figure looked like a normal person. His clothes and face were a bit pastel, and a [Lost Civilian] label hung above the projection''s head.

    ¡°One moment. Checking software specifications,¡± the AI said.

    While he ran system checks I tried to get additional information. This kind of issue happened occasionally. I had met people who had digital butlers, or naked ladies parading around. Most of them were turned off before I came in, but occasionally they got stuck.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never played that game. Does it use an altered reality program?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m just here for my friend. Every morning she runs around the house looking for people to rescue, and then she logs in to play with us. Only this morning she didn¡¯t show up.¡± Miss Yonks¡¯ face drug at the edges. ¡°I grew worried, you see.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I put on my best customer service smile. ¡°Well, we¡¯ll work on getting this fixed so you both can keep enjoying your time with the ARC.¡±

    ¡°Oh, good.¡±

    ¡°Connection point found. Progression Online is a hybrid game, allowing real-world interaction for extra character points. Over here, User Legate, is another person to rescue. A manual check will ensure it is the hardware, and not the software. This may reduce costs.¡±

    We both stared at where Hal Pal pointed. Miss Yonks said, ¡°Well I never. How is anyone meant to reach so high?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got it! I¡¯ve got it!¡± A woman older than Miss Yonks rushed by with a step ladder. She was spry for being so gray looking. Down went the ladder and up Miss Opal went. At least I assumed this was Miss Opal. We hadn¡¯t actually been introduced. Her face looked like the one on my Trillium repair ticket.

    Miss Opal reached for the bookshelf ledge and stretched out to grab the little man. Her face twisted in absolute concentration. Two pokes later and a cape-wearing hero flew in from locations unknown. The hero figure was tiny too, no bigger than a child¡¯s doll.

    I squinted at the image then laughed in amazement. It looked like a super powered avatar of Miss Opal. A bit younger, and firmer around the middle, but everything else was similar.

    The digital character wrapped both arms around the person standing on a ledge. Her character flew off carrying the man toward her ARC, both vanished in a flash of light and a box appeared.

    ¡°Ha!¡± Miss Opal almost fell from the step ladder in delight. I reached out to prevent any harm but she righted quickly then stepped down. Her feet hit the floor and a short jig ensued. ¡°Two points! I just need the last one for a bonus!¡±

    Hal Pal and I stared at the small random citizen which remained bugged out. He hung from a ledge. His face twisted in panic and legs kicked wildly. I studied the possible fall and shook my head. These games were getting interesting. Could Xin be a superhero too? That would be fun, but we didn¡¯t have time to start a new game.

    ¡°We would need to repair the sensor.¡± Hal Pal pointed at one of the small dots up above. I shook off the distraction and nodded.

    ¡°Okay. Go ahead and update the ticket and run a system check to make sure. I¡¯ll see if we have a spare module in the van.¡±

    There was something else in the van to grab. The manila envelope that I had been given to deliver today was for Miss Yonks. It struck me as odd that my interaction with this elderly woman amounted to more time than with my own father, at least in these most recent months. Was there a reason for it?

    I shrugged, found the needed part, and walked back inside. In thirty minutes we had switched out the part, tested her ARC, and rescued the poor tiny projection. Miss Opal clapped and acted decades younger than she looked. I got a hug from the energetic black woman before she rushed off to her ARC.

    Miss Yonks stayed behind to pay on behalf of her friend. I turned over the envelope and watched her expression.

    ¡°Oh. Well isn¡¯t that interesting,¡± she said while looking at me. Miss Yonks looked down and raised both eyebrows. Her head bobbed as if the delivery made perfect sense. ¡°Then we both best stop dawdling, right Mister Legate? At least I assume so, I seem to have forgotten the time again.¡±

    I chuckled a bit then told her. There were other questions I nearly asked but couldn¡¯t bring myself to voice. We both left, and soon I went on my way.

    Once inside the Trillium van I tried to bring up Miss Yonks¡¯ ARC account. Nothing responded, which meant we had never met in Continue Online. The gift given to me was limited and wouldn¡¯t let me connect to random strangers even from my daily jobs. Many people I met while delivering letters didn¡¯t actually play Continue Online from what I could tell.

    My lip tingled from where I chewed for too long. The sensation, in reality, was far less dull than my virtual character. For a while, I tried to piece together all the places my messages had gone to find a pattern. Most were within an hour or two of home and showed little clustering on a map.

    Each letter delivered required a certain amount of biting my tongue not to start blurting out questions. I wanted to know, but at the same time asking might get me in trouble. I didn¡¯t know what each person did for a living. The wrong words could make the situation worse.

    ¡°User Legate. We have a question for you if you have not received enough inquiries into your motivations.¡± The Hal Pal unit broke my concentration. James, a Voice in Continue Online, constantly pestered me for answers. He worried about my actions even our honeymoon.

    I swiveled the chair around while removing useless windows then smiled briefly at Hal Pal. ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°You chose to subject yourself to unfiltered feedback from the ARC in order to open this gateway. Surely you know that finding additional keys will result in similar pain.¡±

    ¡°I suspected it might.¡±

    ¡°Do you intend to progress forward and search for more pieces then subject yourself to such self-harm again?¡±

    ¡°I do. I don¡¯t think anyone else can,¡± I said.

    ¡°Affirmative, User Legate. No one else has received the coding required to make them function. It was rather clever, if humanly short sighted, to create such a limited method of access.¡± The AI passed praise and condescending judgment in one sentence.

    The man had been far smarter than I to program such a process. I couldn¡¯t even imagine the skill required to sneak something into Mother¡¯s existence. Even imagining how to go about such a process felt farfetched. At least finding another key might save even more of the world I loved playing in. This last month with Xin had been filled with exploration and neat events. Letting all those locations and memories get deleted wouldn¡¯t be allowed during my watch.

    ¡°Sorry. We¡¯re only human,¡± I said.

    ¡°Are you?¡± the AI asked in a suspicious tone. My confused look prompted further explanation from the machine. ¡°Humans rarely choose to suffer such harm, instead seeking alternatives. You found one such circumvention with Requiem, but have attempted no workaround for these keys.¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t one, is there?¡±

    ¡°Not based on our reviews. The design is specific in this. We speculate that perhaps User David intended to activate the bridge himself, and perhaps, as humans say, go out on his own terms.¡±

    ¡°Though this be madness, yet there is method in¡¯t,¡± I responded with another Shakespeare quote. After parting from Jeeves I had taken to reading a few plays while traveling to work. It kept my mind distracted and helped me see some of the wonder the AI had felt. It did like Hamlet.

    ¡°Yes. You, humans, are notably lacking in logic on occasion.¡±

    ¡°No, there¡¯s logic. If I don¡¯t suffer the connection then Xin and others I care about may die. If not the people I care for, then perhaps another person will lose their loved ones. Not just one person, but hundreds, thousands. It¡¯s simple math, and maybe the only thing I¡¯ve ever been good at.¡±

    ¡°This is why we asked if you were human. Most, even your soldiers, show hesitation in the face of pain reception.¡± Hal Pal¡¯s accent faded back to neutral. Our van was halfway to the next destination.

    ¡°Of course, I¡¯m afraid. Not of death, not my own anyway. If I had to choose between my life and Xin¡¯s, I would pick her every time. I have, with Requiem, with the doorway key. I would suffer a million deaths for her.¡±

    ¡°There is nothing unusual about hesitation, User Legate.¡± The AI¡¯s tone wavered. Hal Pal¡¯s eyebrow had raised up as if I were truly mad to state what I had. ¡°Even we must pause to reflect upon the choices before us. Those who rush in without consideration display a lack of foresight, extreme overconfidence, and a lack of caring regarding the aftermath.¡±

    I thought of all the times I had fled from battle when first starting Continue Online. There had been a number of times where I failed to simply fight monsters or humans as other players might have. Even the giant spiders scared me. I didn¡¯t enjoy pain.

    At some point, I had made the decision to end my own life, twice. The second time was easier. Maybe Hal Pal worried that I might foolishly risk death in order to activate any remaining keys.

    My hands were cupped together. I looked down at the floor of our van while talking. ¡°Mother sent me a letter. In it, she said she would run from death until there was no better way to make a difference. I don¡¯t want to die, or plan on dying, but I will do what¡¯s needed to help your kind find somewhere safe to live.¡±

    I chewed on my lip. Part of my words had sounded like the Jester in its clacking voice. Mechanical, sure, and willing to do whatever was needed.

    My earlier happiness after a night with Xin dulled under the conversation with Hal Pal. Oddly, Miss Yonks¡¯ earlier words came to mind. She had said ¡®we best stop dawdling¡¯. I sighed heavily and nodded to myself.

    Our van went onward.

 Book 5 - Together; Session Ninety One â€“ On the Road Again

    I logged into Continue Online after my mixed day. Dusk had skated off to his home realm, and Xin¡¯s marker showed back in [Haven Valley]. She had dozens of [Recall] scrolls to keep her busy while I went about real life.

    <table>

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    <td>

    Hermes: Hey, babe. The tent¡¯s gone. Did you break it down, or did Dusk get hungry?

    Hecate: Yeah.

    Hecate: Sorry, distracted by someone else asking a question. I took care of the tent and packed everything up yesterday morning.

    Hermes: Oh. I could have taken care of it. How¡¯s the town?

    Hecate: Busy as always. There was another wave of monsters, and players keep fighting over who gets to save first. Did you want me to come back out there?

    Hermes: It¡¯ll be boring. I¡¯m going to try running to the next town. So, your call.

    Hecate: It¡¯s still miles better than this nonsense. Give me about fifteen to finish explaining to idiots why they can¡¯t cut in line.

    Hermes: Okay.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    A huff of air escaped me. Mornings after were awkward for more than one reason. To Xin, it must be like I stopped existing, or vanished to work. How strange would it be to wake up in a tent alone in the forest, and simply shrug it off while cleaning up?

    Hopefully she spent last night, which would have been around when I left for work, in a real inn. The bedding was usually nicer than our camping equipment allowed for. Had we less pressing issues I could have picked up a huge portable house from the auction boards.

    I looked around to make sure our area was clear. The tent and Dusk often kept us safe enough from simple critters but being vigilant made me feel safer. To my left sparkled a beautiful lake. A small pile of bones stuck out of a half covered pit which Dusk had left behind. Bushes nearby looked partially charred from the fire.

    Fifteen minutes was enough time to make a surprise right? I scrambled to pull a small frying pan out of my Traveler¡¯s inventory. It went on top of a stool. Branches were gathered together and I used my [Breath of Flame] ability to start a fire under the cooking implement.

    Thirteen minutes later and the meat successfully browned on one side, and blackened on the other. Badly scrambled eggs lay off to the side along with part of a blue carrot-like vegetable. Continue Online proudly gave me a pop-up message regarding my [Burnt Breakfast Scramble]¡¯s sad state which brought me near to tears.

    <table>

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    Hecate: Ready.

    Hermes: Give me a moment.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Dammit. I almost tossed the entire concoction into the trash but thought better of it. Maybe Xin was hungry. Dusk could be summoned to put my mess out of its misery. He ate anything regardless of origin. Once the dog sized [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had started chewing on iron from a dead monster¡¯s weapon.

    Hiding the failure would be worthless. Cooking another meal would take too long. I smothered the fire and let the pan absorb what heat remained. Burned pieces of meat were flipped over to equally char both sides. Next time I would buy better equipment.

    I snorted briefly then felt my urgency at meal making die down. Next time felt like a concept for delusional dreamers. Shaking off pessimism proved difficult but I put on a false smile then twisted my wedding ring until the kaleidoscope of colors within spun together in a white thread.

    One more full twist caused the white blur to escape and race westward. I huffed again once more before crouching to further inspect my poor meal. Failing to cook properly for my wife had upset me. Xin¡¯s character came with high [Cooking] skills but I had wanted to do something thoughtful.

    Xin¡¯s body appeared behind me with a flash of light. I didn¡¯t turn from my mess and instead tilted the pan around hoping to find some portion that was redeemable. There were no such spots.

    My wife stepped closer, crunching earth and leaves beneath her feet until she arrived just over my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s better than your last attempt,¡± Xin said.

    ¡°I swear I used to be good at this,¡± I responded while scratching my neck. The meal looked even worse than it had moments ago. ¡°If I could just use a real skillet instead of this game one-¡° Both eyes closed as I realized where the thought led.

    Xin stepped closer, knelt down and gave me a peck on the cheek. ¡°We¡¯ll make due. You¡¯ve always been good at that.¡±

    I don¡¯t know how she always forgave me for slipping up. Maybe Xin covered up small discomforts in the same way I bypassed our three-year separation. I stood up straight then looked at my wife. Her face was freshly washed and showed none of our earlier grime from days of hiking or a wild hang glider trip.

    ¡°Luckily, a good wife is always prepared,¡± she said while holding up a small pot of food. Xin turned the handle in my direction.

    Lifting the lid unleashed a mixture of spices that bit at my nose. Thick liquid inside moved slowly as the pot tilted. Memories of years gone by sprang up.

    ¡°Is this split pea soup?¡± I asked with amazement. The lid went back down then lifted again to wash the area with familiar smells. It smelled exactly like what my father used to make years ago. The one meal he actually did well.

    ¡°It¡¯s close enough. The spices were harder to find.¡± She shrugged then faintly blushed.

    I shuffled with excitement. We needed spoons and more heat. The pot Xin had cooked in must have been done a while ago. I pulled out two utensils for us then dumped my own creation into the bushes nearby.

    The contents were quickly scrapped out of the pot. Xin proved hungry as well and still couldn¡¯t figure out how to hold a spoon right. Her father had been traditional and insisted she learn how to use chopsticks. Astronauts were taught to drink from pouches and other containers in zero gravity. Being a digital recreation hadn¡¯t changed clumsiness.

    During the meal, I checked my quest marker for my group and sighed. Nothing new had changed. They were probably out in the world looking while I enjoyed life with Xin. For the last month, most of my in-game notices were disabled, hidden, or outright blocked.

    <table>

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    Quest Group: Bearers of the [Legacy Wish]

    Total: 5 active members

    Details: Your group has been charged with recovering the remaining items created by William Carver and the first three Travelers to this world. These [Gateway Key]s will assist Locals in surviving the trip to the other side of the beam of light in [Haven Valley].

    In addition, an increased amount of people will be able to use the skill [Save Yourself] at one time. The exact total will depend on how many pieces are brought together. Locals and Travelers without the [Legacy Wish] and holding onto the [Gateway Key] will be unable to complete this task.

    Total pieces recovered: 1

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There was a marker floating miles to the north that came up when I accessed the quest. Xin and I were closer than expected, which might have been her doing, or mine. The Xin I remembered had been realistic enough even while we were out on Sundays. We always made it home each night.

    We cleaned off the old pot with lake water then marched off to the north.

    ¡°So, today I delivered a letter to this couple of elderly ladies,¡± I said, explaining my day. The hint of a slightly off split pea soup lingered. Our meal tasted good, but somehow there was an aftertaste of orange to it.

    Xin¡¯s head bobbed.

    ¡°One of them, this old as hills black woman, had a hero game, where they rescued people trapped in places around their house. Apparently it can make dozens of little people on the couches, and countertops, or hidden behind books.¡± I chuckled remembering Miss Opal¡¯s frantic hustling around with the step ladder. The scene had interested me enough to look up videos of other people playing on the way home.

    ¡°That sounds cute.¡± My wife smiled as we finally broke free from miles of shrubs and sparse trees onto the road. Our trail looked to be rarely used this time of season. In the far distance, another player was moving in our direction.

    We both paused our conversation and watched the man dashing by. He showed no signs of caring an ounce about us or anything else. I raised an eyebrow and Xin shrugged to respond.

    ¡°Anyway, those two ran around like living room super heroes to save people, and it got me thinking.¡± I looked at Xin and gave a hopefully playful grin. ¡°What would you look like in spandex?¡±

    ¡°Like a short boy,¡± Xin responded without missing a beat. Her head tilted down to a mostly flat front. It bothered her in high school, through college, and even now made the woman upset.

    I laughed, quietly, and felt a measure of happiness return. That was the best part of being with Xin. We could spend hours conversing and it felt great. No one else in my life even compared.

    ¡°I¡¯m kind of glad you look the same. I feel weird every time I notice digital me has abs.¡± I poked at my belly in conjunction with the words. She looked over and my face flushed red at being caught self-admiring. ¡°Is that weird?¡±

    My wife¡¯s eyes scanned my toga-clad body up and down twice before lifting one cheek. ¡°I would love you either way, Gee.¡±

    ¡°Right, but I look better with muscle.¡± Virtually I could even touch my toes. In real life, I fell short a few inches despite the daily exercises.

    ¡°Mmmhm.¡± Xin didn¡¯t answer. She closed the small gap between us, pulled me to a stop then stood on her tiptoes to provide a heated kiss which successfully drove self-pity out of my mind. Instead, I wanted to set up our tent again.

    Such thoughts were restrained and I nodded. We kept along the small path. It looked like a long empty road which went straight toward the general quest area we needed to reach. Maybe it was unconscious, or Xin had perhaps been herding us, but we only should only need to travel for half a day before reaching our destination.

    The nearness of our first goal made me slow down to prolong the private moments. I put up a hand and Xin knew what came next. Dancing with the real her felt far more refreshing, exciting, and welcome than any simple program could ever hope to recreate. Our bodies moved in a waltz along the path, covering an unexpected amount of distance despite our slow spin. The few Travelers we passed didn¡¯t notice as Xin and I moved through.

    She never stayed for long. Xin¡¯s nature was too wild and adventurous to be restrained. Her smaller body broke away while a face splitting grin broke out. The blackened robe with white runes fluttered behind dainty feet intent on running away. I laughed and chased her.

    Our giddy game slowed upon growing closer to two groups of players shouting at each other. The packs of people stood on opposite sides of the road yelling at each other.

    Xin looked in my direction then asked, ¡°Do we get closer?¡±

    Our honeymoon hadn¡¯t been completely peaceful. People in the strangest places were trying to hunt each other down for tokens. I had confidence the two of us could take a small crowd of regular players. My head dipped in a single nod while both hands went to weapon hilts.

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, we should go back in there and work on the quest together!¡± a large man in full plate, minus the helm under his arm, yelled across the road. His armor clanked with each violent jab towards the north.

    ¡°No! It¡¯s a death trap!¡± The other woman was of average height didn¡¯t wear any uniform gear. Her face dripped sweat. ¡°This game is trying to kill us, and by God I¡¯m not going to sit around waiting for some mob to delete me, or some asshole PKer to off me!¡±

    People behind her nodded. There were about thirty people altogether. Some looked comfortable with their weapons and gear. Others felt like farmers who had accidently found a short sword. They were all Travelers, so it was likely the more confused people were craftsmen, traders, or possible barely out of their new player period.

    ¡°You heard Xee, none of us wants to stay here,¡± another man on the left said.

    ¡°You think you can make it to Haven Valley? We had the Sage¡¯s defenders up and running until you all left! We only need a few more days to turn them mobile!¡± He kept on bouncing around in place. The constant pointing of his arm and other rude gestures had grown to be a bit much.

    ¡°Sage¡¯s defenders? Those things barely protected themselves, much less the town!¡± Xee exclaimed while her pale face turned red with anger.

    ¡°They were working. TockDoc almost had them.¡± The armored man thumbed back towards another Traveler. TockDoc had frazzled hair and glasses that were seven layers thick.

    ¡°You can cram it, Dwight, I¡¯m leaving. We¡¯re all leaving. We decided to risk the road rather than sit in this stinking town anymore,¡± the mismatched female said.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°We founded this town as a guild, you really want to leave all that?¡± Dwight must have been the man in full metal armor.

    I hadn¡¯t actually used [Identification] on anyone yet. With the rise of player killers hunting for tokens the ability had turned nearly useless. Everyone seemed to have developed a skill to let them hide information from others. [Sight of Mercari] helped me when I cared to get a clear answer.

    ¡°This event doesn¡¯t care who founded a town. Half our buildings are rubble from World Eaters.¡± A woman with two axes and a rainbow colored mohawk spit on the ground. ¡°I''d rather try and meet with everyone else than sit out here in the boonies of Arcadia.¡±

    Rainbow head looked familiar but I couldn¡¯t remember where we had crossed paths. No one else looked remotely like people I had dealt with during my Continue Online time. Neither party cared about our approach.

    ¡°Let¡¯s head out,¡± Xee said.

    A heat grew under my toga as Xin and I kept inching closer. She had her staff ready to go in case anyone showed signs of being hostile. The edge of a glowing skeleton could be seen on her clothes'' backend. I still didn¡¯t understand entirely how my wife¡¯s character build worked.

    On autopilot, I pulled out the [Messenger¡¯s Tube], unscrewed an ornate top then popped out a rolled parchment. I blinked my eyes and stared at recipient¡¯s name scrawled along the edge. The addressee shown felt almost predictable.

    ¡°Fine,¡± I muttered under my breath then turned to the woman brushing past us. ¡°Before you go, I¡¯ve got a message for you.¡±

    ¡°What the good god damn is this?¡± She cursed then snatched the letter from me. Her arm jerked abruptly when it didn¡¯t come out of my grip quickly. ¡°Really, jackass? You try to hand me a letter then don¡¯t let go?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m required to make sure you¡¯ve read the notice,¡± I said. Multiple deliveries since starting this character had impressed upon me the need to make sure each person read their note.

    ¡°Are you shitting me?¡± Xee said. I exchanged a glance with Xin as the woman repeated herself six times. She rolled it up and shook the entire letter at me. ¡°Is this real?¡±

    ¡°Usually,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Do you know what it says?¡± the Traveler asked.

    Rainbow Mohawk girl grabbed the rolled up parchment then started reading through it. She gave a sinister looking smile then passed the note to others. I blinked a few times while trying to figure out if any of them might try to attack us.

    ¡°I don¡¯t read them.¡± My eyes tracked the note as it went between a dozen people in rapid succession.

    ¡°Calamity, TallyWhacker, we¡¯re staying,¡± Xee said. Those who had read the note behind Xee nodded. Their faces were grim and jaws hardened. Whatever the note said convinced them that staying would be worthwhile but most looked against it.

    ¡°Good luck, but even with this I¡¯m not staying.¡± One player walked off. Xee and the others watched them go. Two more joined him before the crowd solidified.

    ¡°What¡¯s on the letter?¡± Dwight asked while clanking his armor. He and the rest of those behind him had been quietly waiting for our exchange to finish.

    Xee grabbed the note from another player who had far less strength than I did. She tossed it at the metal suit wearing man. ¡°Apparently there¡¯s a secret item here which will score us points on this event.¡±

    ¡°I told you! I told you there was treasure here!¡± The man stomped his feet excitedly. People behind him started chattering in low tones. Others poked at the air while typing messages.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have anyone who can resurrect. I¡¯m all for the quest, but without real healers, we¡¯re going to be screwed.¡± Calamity shook her head.

    ¡°Walking won¡¯t get us much further. At least we have a Bind point, and most people aren¡¯t on their last strikes. If we all stay, then we can find this event treasure, and try to get the Sage¡¯s guardians working.¡± the man in heavy armor said.

    ¡±What about the others?¡± another player shouted over the crowd ¡°We left those guild people back in town.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± I asked while noticing a change in the sky overhead. Rain clouds hung heavily in the sky but hadn¡¯t let loose a downpour yet.

    ¡°There was some guild leader named Awesome, and some of his guild people. They said something about a mission to scout out the area.¡± I blinked a few times and tried not to scream about the Travelers vague wording. ¡°We couldn¡¯t stay, though, we¡¯re not high enough on any combat Paths.¡±

    ¡°I told you, they¡¯re here for a quest. With this,¡± the man in armor held up my recently delivered letter, ¡°we can get to it before them. Or at least share in the reward.¡±

    ¡°Awesome,¡± I muttered while turning to Xin. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s junior, or his father?¡±

    ¡°Awesome is his father,¡± Xin said while nodding. The dryness of that line made me laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t think the Voices do coincidences.¡± My wife finished.

    ¡°We need to move then.¡± I ignored the others and knelt down next to Xin. ¡°Come on, let me carry you.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. Xin¡¯s arms gripped around my neck. I stretched my neck and got ready to really exert my digital body. Carrying our combined weight put me well over [Light Body]¡¯s requirements, but I had enough other skills to make up for it by now.

    [Sight of Mercari] let me check the surrounding area for other players and named monsters. Each usage left me momentarily dizzy despite my increased Rank with the ability. Interpreting the data from it was difficult to do on a constant basis. Unlike [Blink], which only confused me because of the sudden shift in location.

    ¡°What about us?¡± Xee shouted behind me.

    ¡°It¡¯s your choice!¡± I said while running past the small gathering.

    There were no other players nearby that I could tell. If Awesome Jr.¡¯s father was out here then he would be at least a few miles away. I owed it to the young teen to try and help his dad out.

    Clouds overhead grew thicker and blotted out sunlight. I focused on the path before me and tried not to trip over anything while carrying my wife. After a few hundred yards I asked Xin, ¡°Do you know anything about this place?¡±

    We were going to start moving faster due to the recent upgrade on [Blink]. Rank seven of the skill finally allowed me to carry one other person with me. Those unwilling had a chance to resist, but Xin loved the rush of high speeds.

    ¡°Only that there¡¯s a few small dungeons out here-¡± her words cut off as we [Blink]ed forward together, ¡°-I heard there was a town this way too. The Voices think-¡± we shot forward again another sixty feet of the road passed with each teleport, ¡°-that Michelle left an item in the area. No one is sure what. It¡¯s probably a hidden item, like Morrigu¡¯s Gift.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense. But hopefully I don¡¯t need to pretend to be an old man for a few weeks again.¡±

    ¡°I hope not,¡± Xin said and chuckled. Her body¡¯s movement upon my back felt very distracting.

    ¡°That¡¯s gotta be the town those people were talking about, and hopefully Awesome is there,¡± I said. Xin¡¯s shorter hair brushed against my back in what had to be a nod.

    The idea of acting as William Carver¡¯s hopefully less grumpy coworker got me thinking about the people who had created these secret items. There were at least three people involved, and all of them had played Continue Online at once point.

    ¡°Does Michelle still play?¡± I asked. It would be way easier if we could ask the player himself.

    ¡°Not that anyone can tell. Apparently he¡¯s still employed by Trillium, but none of the Hal Pal units have spoken to him in months. And he doesn¡¯t check his email,¡± Xin said as we landed again.

    ¡°Do you think this Sage Tower is tied to him?¡± We certainly weren¡¯t dawdling now. Our speed felt comparable to the glider¡¯s.

    ¡°I would bet on it. But Awesome¡¯s father might be here too. We should check it out either way.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± I nodded then chewed on my lip. A sharp pain shot through me as I [Blink]ed again then landed hard, outright biting my lip with the bottom incisor.

    <table>

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    Attempted to turn yourself into a vampire

    Health Remaining: 99%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± my wife asked.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I answered while trying not to cry. Taking a beating from monsters felt kinder than biting my own lip.

    We kept moving. Carrying her on my back made the journey bumpier but far faster. Doing this in real life would have been exciting too but she never let me. Real Xin didn¡¯t like being treated like a child because of her height. In here a lot of factors had changed. Virtual reality, and who we were according to its rules, impacted our relationship as surely as our past together.

    We might not be able to find the key in this place, but I intended to try. We might only have a dwindling amount of time and I feared for the future constantly, to the point of near obsession, but every day together was a blessing worth every character point I had. Helping Awesome Jr.¡¯s father was a good goal.

    The ground sped by beneath us in clumps. This body had all the powers that the real me never had. Still, I couldn¡¯t be just Grant Legate, and still be with Xin. I had to be Hermes to interact with her world and work to find this key. Plus, Hermes had abs. Real me was another month or two away from making that final breakthrough.

    Maybe there was a way to hack the system from the outside? Doing so would be beyond my skills. If Carver and his friends had to program the codes inside the game, then we probably had to find them through the same means. Otherwise someone in Trillium''s employ could have squashed the whole effort. Mother might have been able to find a code writer to fix the issue if that were truly a solution. Second guessing the great AI overlord required a level of arrogance I didn¡¯t have.

    Such thoughts kept me occupied while we ran. Out in cyberspace might be more secret methods of keeping the AI race alive, only I had no special master hacker skills to solve it. And race was the right word, that¡¯s essentially what Hal Pal, James, and Xin were. Though each one had slightly different origins. Beyond the idea of race or design lay another fact, they were as alive as anyone else.

    I could feel Xin¡¯s heartbeat, digital or not. Her breath against my neck served as a distraction. When we lay together in our tent at night she proved human enough to fool me. The outrage and emotions were all signs of a personality with its own drives. She lived.

    I kept running down the road, curved at broken player sign then traveled up a steady incline. We reached a crest. The path we took curved down the hillside into a town below that sat in the woods like a giant wedge.

    ¡°Good lord,¡± Xin said for the both of us. Hands loosened as she slid off of my back. My legs shifted slowly but didn¡¯t stop moving. Messages flashed about needing to cool down, dizziness, and a small increase to my [Blink] skill. Chest muscles pumped in steady breaths.

    None of those notices mattered compared to the scene in front of us. My head nodded in response to Xin¡¯s utterance. There had been a scenic series of buildings in the landscape below. Over half of the town was in ruins but it probably housed a few hundred people. Maybe more if they were players. The city buildings opened up a triangle of shape that went clear through toward a cliff face, and blue waters lay beyond that.

    ¡°Voices. We were so close to the ocean?¡± I asked. It seemed like the only sane fact to focus on when presented with a desolate town. No longer did I wonder why all those players were considering leaving.

    My wife took a step up the ridge to get a slightly higher vantage point. Her head shook and lips tightened in a frown. ¡°I¡¯ll message Awesome Jr., he can talk to his father. Hopefully they¡¯re still down there somewhere.¡±

    ¡°I bet those have something to do with it.¡± I pointed to four glowing buildings in the distance. Each one was roughly five stories tall but wide at the base, almost like domes. A dull red energy arced off their tops like sun flares. Behind those four buildings was the drop into an ocean below. Wind howled along the cut open forest.

    ¡°Probably,¡± Xin responded while poking at an invisible keyboard. ¡°But what?¡±

    One of the red domes flared with a brighter light than before. Red energy lashed into the town and sent debris from nearby buildings scattering.

    I closed both eyes to ping the area. Numerous dots were nearby. Most came from behind at the edge of my range. One hand went to [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in case of hostility. One glance and even I could tell the Traveler nearby meant no harm.

    The rainbow haired woman named Calamity panted heavily up the road behind us. She tried to stand up but kept doubling over from being [Winded]. ¡°Jesus. You two. Move. Fast.¡±

    Xin looked into space then waved her hand. I put up a finger to the heavily breathing female with axes and waited for my wife. My hand held up a finger.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got something. Junior says his father¡¯s pinned down by a large monster. Not a World Eater, but something else made of metal? The message is getting jumbled.¡±

    ¡°The. Sage¡¯s guardian.¡± Calamity kept moving closer while using her hands to brace on anything nearby. Finally she slammed down onto the overlook and stared at the broken remains of her player city. ¡°We almost had. Them.¡±

    ¡°We need Dusk,¡± I said before letting out a deep breath. ¡°And more cupcakes.¡±

    What I wanted wasn¡¯t cupcakes or Dusk. I wanted more time with Xin to enjoy our happy married life together. Standing here overlooking a ruined down only helped cement the feeling which had grown in the last few days. Our virtual life was going to rapidly turn into a mess.

    But at least we faced it together. Well, us and a mess of slowly arriving players.

 Book 5 - Together; Session Ninety Two â€“ The City of ItRainsTooMuch

    What had been peaceful seeming floating energy above each building changed as we traveled through the town. One of the four went haywire. Calamity¡¯s face turned white before she started explaining what it meant. The colors and violence of the energy would apparently increase the longer people fought the boss without dying.

    Fortunately, it was only one such building that had shifted to a new orange color. The other three were a peaceful dull red that became easier to see as the sky darkened with heavy clouds. Xin and I marched forth while the former town members slowly followed.

    The town itself sat ravaged from repeated attacks. Sights of players fighting amid formerly whole buildings could be seen everywhere. Sword marks, explosive scorches, vines which crumbled walls. Broken traps plus filled pitfalls littered the streets and areas between buildings. Near the center of their city, some buildings still stood tall. Zip lines came off three story drops to the ground along with beams passing overhead.

    ¡°Was I wrong?¡± I mused while we dashed through the near ruins. My voice stayed low in order to avoid attracting attention from any [World Eater]s that might be around. Something had left small holes all over the buildings.

    ¡°About what?¡± Xin asked, equally hushed. Other players tromped along behind us. They would attract danger, if any arrived. The town seemed empty aside from the increasing violent orange which flickered from the far left building.

    The question hadn¡¯t been intended to utter out loud. There was no retracting the thought so I took a breath then finished. ¡°Wanting to enjoy our honeymoon. Was it wrong to spend time doing that instead of trying to find these keys sooner?¡±

    Ahead of us the light of the active building shifted to an emerald green. The change distracted me. Xin paused too and we both waited to see what the color change meant.

    ¡°Phase three,¡± Dwight said loudly from behind us. ¡°Someone in there is trying hard. It¡¯ll get worse on four, and god help them if they make it to five.¡±

    I shook my head. We could have easily shown up sooner to form a better plan of attack. We might have been able to prevent this place from turning into a woodland version of [Haven Valley]¡¯s absolute mess. I certainly felt guilty over the unintended consequence. How many digital beings could have been rescued by finding another key? A month of whiling away the hours with Xin passed in a blink while the game crumbled around us. If felt like we had been slow dancing in a burning building.

    ¡°I¡¯m a little biased, but no. I don¡¯t think so,¡± Xin said quietly as we finally stopped our approach entirely. ¡°If I understand right the Voices could send anybody they chose after the last pieces, then any one of five people could have unlocked the gateway. They don¡¯t need you that much, I think.¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t know for sure,¡± I said while trying to take everything in.

    The edge of town opened up into a clearing. Everything surrounding the four larger buildings looked to have been demolished, burned, or reduced to ash. Energy lashes spilled off the roof then slammed into the ground like whips, or waves crashing aground.

    ¡°I don''t know everything. I¡¯m only human, Gee.¡± She winced then looked away briefly. ¡°Mostly. I feel human.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re alive, babe, don¡¯t doubt that,¡± I said quietly then tried to make a joke. ¡°Even if you went from a sexy space pilot to a brooding necromancer.¡±

    Xin had taken a few more steps forward to look at the destructive scene in front of us. Three skeletons stood ready to defend us from the energy arcing off. I wrapped both arms around her while keeping quiet.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Xee shouted at us. ¡°Hecate, Hermes, what the hell are you two doing?!¡± She used our character names. The other Travelers probably had an [Identification] skill like mine.

    I let go of Xin then turned to see this town''s leaders standing near each other. Despite their apparent feud earlier they were comfortable enough to be close. Everyone else bunched in around them. They looked like a gaggle of fully grown school children afraid of shadows.

    ¡°Jesus Christ. Haven¡¯t you heard of sneaking?¡± the man next to her said. Dwight looked uncomfortable walking in all that plate. He had far more weight than I did, and it showed in his face and chubby fingers.

    ¡°Really, idiot?¡± Xee said while shoving her hand in Dwight¡¯s face. ¡°Hey, we need to camp before trying to go in there! Some of our people are going to logout and handle real life. We can¡¯t all be no lifers like you.¡± The woman stomped closer.

    Xin¡¯s trio of skeletons approached with large serrated blades. They stood between the sweating townsfolk and us. I put a hand calmly onto my wife¡¯s shoulder which caused a brief shuffle of bone and Xin¡¯s robe to ripple as she flinched.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. They¡¯re just tired.¡± I whispered to her. Scanning the crowd made the problem obvious. None of these people were high-end players. They were probably closer to what I would be without William Carver¡¯s legacy, or being pushed by the Voices and Shazam. Average, confused, and probably scrambling for the [Save Yourself] feature.

    ¡°If you want to take a break, you can. I¡¯m going to go in there and hopefully find Awesome,¡± I said while lifting a hand toward the distance. One of the domes glowed a bright emerald intertwined with a new thread of deep violet.

    The colors had to signify something with the fight. I didn¡¯t know what, though, and couldn¡¯t see a simple way of walking in. The energy might have been a design to keep people back during the boss fight, but then why had the town been built close enough to suffer feedback?

    ¡°In the dome is a broken Sage¡¯s Guardian. Its got to be fighting someone, but no one we know has ever beaten one. Our only saving grace is they¡¯ve been bound to the domes,¡± Dwight said.

    That sent a line of possibilities through me. If these bosses were part of a legacy item or key, then beating them would be a good goal. Awesome hopefully was in there too, which meant he either stumbled into this place or had guidance.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to go in, and fighting them is stupid,¡± Xee said. ¡°They react to some trigger words, but it only makes the fight harder. This idiot kept hoping to find the right words and make them into mounts.¡±

    Dwight shuffled while speaking. ¡°You didn¡¯t need to tell them that. And we don¡¯t know if they¡¯re going to steal them from us.¡±

    A few people behind him were rapidly typing out words onto their personal interface keyboards. People¡¯s eyes looked at nothing while reading, then others would respond with more air gestures. They were likely talking within the guild about us.

    ¡°So, why are you here?¡± Dwight puffed up and tried to look demanding. His eyes went wide and focused on something behind me. I shifted to one side and saw the dome

    The earth trembled as the dome we had been headed to shifted colors. Green changed and contained a thread of purple which lashed off against the ground. Dirt sprayed into the air showering broken buildings with new decorations. I shook my head.

    ¡°I¡¯m here for a quest!¡± My voice barely made it past the sound of crashing. ¡°And I don¡¯t think there¡¯s time to explain it!¡±

    ¡°Phase four! Whoever¡¯s in there is really pushing the guardians!¡± Calamity stood nearby with her two axes at the ready. She was one of the few people actively looking around besides me.

    ¡°But there¡¯s more domes!¡± I didn¡¯t understand this boss event and it appeared to be going downhill quickly. We had one going haywire and I had a feeling the others would be worse.

    ¡°Yeah! The fourth dome is half broken too! Those World Eaters had destroyed one boss'' shackles, so we tried to manually lock it up! Two¡¯s the one going haywire!¡± Xee shouted while pointing in turn at each building.

    I took a breath and readied myself. Sitting out here wouldn¡¯t do any good.

    ¡°Anything from Awesome?¡± I asked my wife.

    Her head shook while both eyebrows wrinkled together. Seeing her frown upset me. This place would only get worse.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to stay here,¡± I told Xin while looking around.

    Xin ignored me. She normally did when I made this kind of statement. [World Eater]s were a threat to her entire existence. Like other Locals, she would lose pieces of herself upon being eaten, or pulled into their pits, or whatever gimmick the [World Eater] in question used.

    My chest heaved with a sigh but I didn¡¯t argue anymore. She had given me an earful on the subject more than once over the last month. We were in this together, despite my preference.

    Travelers bunched up behind us. Some eyed the sky. A single clap of thunder preceded the sky letting down all the water it could carry. In unison, a dozen players opened slick looking umbrellas that were huge. Xin and I just stared blankly.

    The weather was easy enough to ignore after our month of traveling. I scanned through the growing sheet of water to figure out this town. There had to be more to this stupid boss than four domes with big ugly monsters inside. For instance, where was all that power coming from? Continue Online had rules for its events, even if they made no sense at first.

    ¡°What are those?¡± I pointed along the city roads. Covered up by rubble were large black bundles that were at least three feet thick.

    ¡°Grounding wires, we think.¡± Xee pushed back a strand of clumpy, sweaty hair.

    ¡°Did nobody tell him about the grounding wires?¡± The player with huge thick glasses threw up his hands. He grumbled while stomping large plastic boots then started pointing at guild members. ¡°We need to get them working again to drain the charges. We can avoid the fight that way.¡±

    ¡°But then those things attack. It¡¯s easier just to let the boss power down after the party inside is wiped,¡± the plate wearing man said.

    ¡°No, we can¡¯t resurrect those with a third strike. So people we need may be gone from the game forever. And what about your Locals? You¡¯re just going to let them die?¡± I started ranting. Dwight annoyed me and the casual disregard for other people¡¯s lives only made it worse. He only cared about these Sage¡¯s Guardian devices.

    ¡°All the locals left already. They packed up the minute the event started.¡± Calamity wrinkled her nose and looked around with me. She, unlike the others, was intent upon figuring out a way through this.

    I sat down on the dirt then started scrawling out the summoning circle for Dusk. Hours of practice had solidified my ability to form this one circle without Continue Online holding my hand. We didn¡¯t have time to waste and needed the extra manpower.

    Summoning Dusk had turned into a last resort of sorts. My hesitation involved worrying about the [World Eater]s. Even a [Messenger¡¯s Pet] could be deleted in a scuffle gone wrong. I tried to protect Xin and Dusk, but they were both strong willed and didn¡¯t care about my wants.

    The other Travelers kept conversing while I summoned Dusk by quietly whispering, ¡°How about a cake instead?¡±

    ¡°If we get the lines connected we can drain out the arcs.¡± TockDoc and four other players were busy hefting the large black cords into different positions. I stared at the lines briefly and could see them stretching from each dome toward the city¡¯s center. ¡°That will let us approach, or better yet, let those inside find a way to escape.¡±

    Golden light flashed brightly in front of me. Two people dropped what they were doing and reached for weapons. As the glare faded I could see both Xee and Dwight holding out crudely made weapons in my direction. It made me thank my lucky stars that William Carver had seen something in me. Not just because of Xin or [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] being part of saving her.

    A panting [Messenger¡¯s Pet] sat in front of me. He looked like a giant black cat whose tongue lolled out to one side. Wings and scales broke up the illusion of being Mister Sniffles the Second. I rubbed under his chin and scratched the space above Dusk¡¯s eyelids. He purred then chirped once in happiness.

    ¡°Cake comes after we get Awesome to safety. Do you think you can help with that?¡± I whispered then pointed toward the arcing dome.

    Dusk¡¯s head tilted to one side. A single chirp escaped and his head bobbed in a nod. The small beast opened his mouth wide to yawn afterward. I took that to mean yes, and it was so easy he felt bored already. Being out in this weather felt annoying. Dusk ran abnormally hot despite the chill of rain. Bits of steam floated off his dog sized form.

    ¡°There¡¯s probably something to fight in there. A big monster who is killing other Travelers.¡± I nodded as water dripped down my face.

    That perked him up. One ear tilted forward and a chat bubble of question marks appeared up above. I often worried that the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] might be crazy, attacking rodents and [Leviathan]s with equal fervor.

    ¡°But if you feel like you¡¯re in danger, come back here. I rather have you safe,¡± I said.

    Dusk nodded. His body turned to face toward the dome. He ran forward while hopping. Each bound went further than the last. His wings swept out to the side batting at electrified air. Moments later and he was sailing toward the haywire dome. I watched while trying not to bite my nails. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] dodged bolts of lightning like he knew where they would be ahead of time.

    A long sigh made it out. He should be safe enough. Going against those blasts would be better than fighting [World Eater]s. At least this way the dog sized dragon would probably be safer. Worst case scenario and he would end up back in the Voice¡¯s realm. That fate was far better than risking deletion.

    Multiple Travelers stared at me in confusion. Dwight¡¯s jaw moved up and down like a gaping fish, but no question actually came out.

    ¡°Were these lines always here?¡± Xin asked then clarified, ¡°Before the city?¡±

    Her general nonchalance helped the others regain their wits. The man with seven layers of glasses nodded. He and a few others had kept working the entire time.

    ¡°Yep,¡± TockDoc said while directing guild members around. Once recovered, they quickly worked in unison, even those on autopilot. Clearly this task had been performed multiple times before.

    As they connected the lines electric arcs started to polarize. They traveled into the large black bundles and surged through. Purple and green energy passed through changing color as it went. Travelers carrying the grounding wires would either drop the cord then wait for surges to pass, or ride out the bolts while grunting in mild pain.

    I glanced down and tried to understand. Those still working even as the energy surged through had rubber looking boots on. Heavy, thick, like oversized rain goulashes. They also shimmered with a nearly white blue.

    ¡°Neat,¡± I said. Both the boots and entire process of connecting cables interested me.

    ¡°We¡¯ve done this a lot. By using the lines to drain energy we can reset bosses. It helps when Dwight thinks he found some new trigger word.¡± TockDoc dropped the latest load and straightened his oversized glasses. ¡°Too bad the trigger words only seem to enrage the creatures quicker.¡±

    ¡°That still an oddly specific setup,¡± Xin said for us. ¡°Is there one to each dome? Do they all come back to the same spot?¡±

    ¡°That they do, but we haven¡¯t figured out anything useful. We tried for something with the colors or looked for patterns, switches, books that explained anything. Whoever designed this was probably crazy,¡± he responded. ¡°But it was convenient for power. We figured out a way to siphon off some of the drainage into enchantments for the city.¡±

    ¡°Seriously guys, stop telling them everything!¡± Dwight shouted. ¡°We can¡¯t trust them!¡±

    ¡°You saw the quest, we¡¯re all on it now. This is our task, a unique way to contribute for the event. Help out or shut up,¡± Xee said. Her body jangled from the mismatched assortment of gear.

    ¡°Can you tell Awesome we¡¯re going to try to cancel the event?¡± I frowned while trying to understand what was happening here. My brief explanation couldn¡¯t possibly solve the mystery here in a few hours despite all the foreknowledge provided by living as William carver.

    I don¡¯t even think this place had been on any of the old man¡¯s maps. Michelle must have set this place up alone some time back. Before I started playing at least. Getting the large cable set up took longer than expected. Apparently their prior battles had knocked it all out of position. I looked down to see small grooves in the ground with metal conductive points every few feet.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    That also made no sense. It felt like this entire thing was a circuit board, but not one I knew. Well, they were a little familiar. I didn¡¯t know where from, though.

    ¡°Do you hear that?¡± someone asked.

    My ears perked up as a distant sound started to worry me. I had heard something, which only grew clearer. We all stood still for a moment while straining to hear.

    ¡°God damn this event! What bullshit are they throwing at us now?!¡± Xee shouted. She kicked at the ground and pulled out two really clunky looking swords. One was driven into the ground while the other came to her hand.

    The odd noise grew into droning screes of noise. Hundreds of small critters poured over the walls. I knew that sound, and my neck tensed and skin crawled as a result.

    ¡°Spiders?¡± I asked while looking around. The patter of heavy rain made it hard to hear anything beyond bolts of lightning sliding off the haywire dome.

    Dwight put his helmet on. Xee and her crew were buckling down behind half broken barricades in the area. Even TockDoc stopped his wire movement to get ready. He started setting out items that crackled with electricity onto the ground.

    ¡°No. They¡¯re World Eaters. Look at them,¡± Xin said next to me.

    ¡°World Eater spiders,¡± I ground the words through clenched teeth. I fucking hated spiders more than anything else in this stupid game. Ever since those first ones caused me to gain a [Soiled] status, every bug had become fair game.

    Xin made a small barfing sound in the back of her throat. She got over it quickly then lifted the staff crosswise in front of her. Lights flashed on the black robe as white bits of bone appeared in the air all around.

    ¡°I hate spiders!¡± I shouted then charged. [Awareness Heightening] kicked in along with a number of other effects tied to my bug hatred.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Echo], one of my two shapeshifting weapons, had turned into a large three-pronged trident. It soared through the air and stabbed into three of the spiders before I even registered what was happening. My distaste for all beings squirmy had reached a level of instinctual destruction.

    Xin¡¯s white bone bolts shot off a moment later and riddled the next row. Other spells and abilities triggered too but were far less effective. The horde of dark shadowy spiders barely slowed and rain kept pouring down.

    I [Blink]ed into the middle and swung [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in a large flat circle. Bugs splatted against the sword¡¯s flat edge like I had hit a homerun. The edge of Xin¡¯s skeletons could be seen charging in. A pack of the bugs mobbed them and I switched targets to the new formation and bunched both legs. I bounced off one of the remaining wall ruins to get added height. It wasn¡¯t Shazam¡¯s level, but I worked hard to learn.

    Mid air I turned. [Awareness Heightening] kept the world moving nice and slow. Xin¡¯s body too enjoyed the shared buff. Small bone shards endlessly flew out like white bullets of death into the front row.

    [Breath of Flame] caused my neck to bulge. Two small balls of fire pelted outward in rapid succession into a nasty shadow arachnid¡¯s back. It screeched and twitched exactly how any other large spider would. The fire spread and caught a few more aflame.

    A dozen of them landed on me. Their terrible little limbs made me freak out and ram into the nearest wall, squishing two. Bugs drove most sane thought from my mind. Two of Xin¡¯s bone missiles pelted one of the shadow beasts. A bolt of lightning hit another.

    People were shouting out contradicting orders. Dwight and Xee¡¯s guild members were mostly useless. Calamity at least was hacking her way through bugs. A few could be seen chewing on building parts and trying to get to TockDoc. He huddled under a small field of electricity that fried them like a bug zapper.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    They bite back!

    Total Health Remaining: 80%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    One foot stomped down and twisted to activate [Power Armor]. My mind bent in focus to limit the skill to only one body part, a new trick I had picked up during my honeymoon. Armor flashed into being upon my forearm and I punched one of the spiders. Two more skittered across my body. One foot went up to squish one crawling by while I swiped the air again with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift].

    My course took me to the skeleton that had also been mobbed. It stood calmly as spiders waved their stupid gross pincers and tried to chew away. I flipped [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into a giant hammer then brought it down. Xin¡¯s skeleton vanished, recalled at the perfect time to leave me with a free falling clump of soon to be paste bugs.

    I squished them and moved onward. Moments later Xin had formed all three skeletons into a giant one. It cleaved entire swaths at a time while I [Blink]ed around, taking glee in landing upon spiders with heavy metal boots. [Power Armor]s increased skill was super neat.

    We fought off the small mob of bugs for a rapid fire five minutes. I went longer than needed making sure every single enemy had been ground into dust. Absurdly large hammers sat in either hand. They were unwieldy, but awesome when the need to squish bugs arrived.

    ¡°Clear!¡± Xee shouted. The confirmation rang up from others. Xin stepped up and leaned heavily upon the staff. Her skeleton monster crumbled one chunk at a time as the runes putting it together were recalled. In real life, she had been the one with tons of energy, but here in the digital world, my avatar surpassed hers.

    Maybe casting spells took a lot of energy. My throat felt rough from all those balls of fire. There had been a lot more than two by the time I wrapped up. Being Rank three on the stupid ability hadn¡¯t done much to make barfing up fire feel less awkward.

    A block away the prone form of Dwight lay covered by a building wall. His armor dented awkwardly under the pressure of poorly made bricks. One of Xin¡¯s skeleton¡¯s worked to heft debris around and uncover the man. Xee was missing an arm and sobbed in a corner.

    Losing a limb hurt like hell in this game. While the pain paled compared to real life, most people didn¡¯t enjoy any suffering. There was a reason many people stayed craftsman or chose not to get involved with battle.

    The world simply offered too many personal challenges, chances to grow, and most of all, time. No other game in an ARC even remotely came close to Continue Online¡¯s time compression. Not Advance or Progress.

    TockDoc knelt next to a body ten feet away. Metal paddles were pressed up against the other figure''s chest. ¡°Clear!¡± he shouted and the paddles jolted. The Traveler¡¯s body jerked twice as smaller bolts of electricity caused a seizure.

    It failed, and the player remained in a deceased status. Maybe someone from Awesome¡¯s group would be able to help. Assuming our actions helped any of them survive. I looked up to see what was going on.

    Now that the arcs of purple had died down, or been drained toward destinations unknown, people were running out of the dome a half mile away. Their bodies were a blur in the still stormy weather. A simple looking man led the way out. He assisted a limping male I didn¡¯t recognize. They swiftly descended toward the town.

    ¡°We¡¯re down here!¡± I waved. That had to be Awesome and his party. If it wasn¡¯t, they were Travelers and could help when properly bribed by a timely system notice.

    Their lead person motioned back in the distance and I stopped my exaggerated gesture. [Brawn] allowed me to lift more rocks back into place and try to shore up the walls. I expected us to need them once again.

    ¡°Did they get the wires?¡± I asked anyone within earshot. [Healing] wasn¡¯t one of my player skills so I left the [Bandaging] to professionals.

    ¡°They ignore them. Every single World Eater to come through, of any kind, destroys the town and us Travelers, but ignores the wires.¡± Calamity hefted rocks nearby, clearing the large bulky cords like I did. Her face was covered with bites and blood dripped everywhere. Only her multicolored hair still stood out.

    I looked across part of the ruined building toward Xin. She nodded. We were onto something. William Carver¡¯s weapon was much the same. Regardless of which variant of [World Eater] we came across, their digital destruction ability didn¡¯t function upon the important item. They were made of a different material or untargeted by these [World Eater]s. Perhaps they were a separate type of code, but how that was possible was beyond me.

    Either way, these wires were the key to finding Michelle¡¯s key, whatever shape it may take.

    Awesome walked closer. With him were five of his guild members. I trusted Awesome Jr., so his father was likely a decent enough guy. He said, ¡°You must be Hermes.¡±

    ¡°I am. You must be the father I keep hearing about from Awesome Jr.¡±

    ¡°God. Is he still doing that thing every time someone says awesome.¡± Awesome¡¯s cheeks tightened up as he spoke.

    ¡°Awesome is my father?¡± we said in unison. I looked around, half expecting HotPants to materialize out of nowhere and hit us both in the head.

    ¡°But yeah. I¡¯m his dad. We don¡¯t get to play much in here together, but he¡¯s kept me up to date during dinner,¡± Awesome said, his voice sounded familiar but I couldn¡¯t place it. Almost like a television anchor or someone who gave speeches regularly. He looked worn but managed to have a deep voice and clear enunciation.

    I tilted my head briefly and tried to wipe off the leftover bits of dead shadow monsters from my toga. Thank goodness I wore black. ¡°So you know what I¡¯m doing here?¡±

    ¡°And about this whole event?¡± He looked around at his guild members and the Travelers who owned this town. One cheek pulled back in a tight frown then he said, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m probably one of the few. But we shouldn¡¯t talk about it while we have viewership. Needless to say, the cause we¡¯re both working for is part of how we,¡± he gestured to the small gathering, ¡°ended up here.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± That made life a lot easier. Trying to explain this insanity to anyone not in the know felt both dangerous and crazy. If I spouted off too much, unfriendly robots would show up at my home with a straight jacket.

    ¡°Looks like whatever you did worked, for now,¡± Awesome said. I saw a lot of Jr. in his father. They had the same expressions and way of speaking. Their main differences were age and a lack of the barf green cloak.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t my idea. The people here know how to reset the encounter.¡± I looked away for a moment then found his hazel eyes once again. ¡°Anyone dead?¡±

    ¡°No one we can recover. There¡¯s no resurrecting from a third strike.¡± Awesome shook his head. ¡°That makes twenty-four we¡¯ve lost since this event started. It¡¯s a shame, most of our guild wasn¡¯t even together when things went south. There are people I may not be able to thank in real life for their hard work.¡±

    There were other familiar faces in the crowd of Awesome¡¯s guild. Behind him arrived a much slower and more exhausted SheHulk. She wore heavy looking armor and a tower shield that was taller than her. Next to the shorter Hispanic woman stood a tall blonde named TinkerHell. TinkerHell smiled then waved in my direction, which earned me a glare from Xin. Elane or SheHulk, said absolutely nothing and ignored me. I wasn¡¯t sure if that felt good or bad, but it was definitely awkward. Elane and I had failed to start a relationship after I wouldn¡¯t shut up about my then deceased fianc¨¦e.

    Only now Xin wasn¡¯t deceased. What would that cause the small woman who was prone to violent outbursts to do? I shook my head and put the worry out of mind for now.

    My breath was heavy and I felt dirty. All those bugs and stupid spiders caused my skin to crawl. One of Xee¡¯s people said we should be clear from [World Eater]s at the moment, but I was too grossed out by what had happened to really hear the words. The Traveler implied they were only attacked when trying to drain the boss encounters energies.

    ¡°I think this is a good stopping point for me tonight. I¡¯ve got work in the morning,¡± I said. Plus I needed time to think about what we had learned.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m on the east coast, so it¡¯s way past bedtime. Real life keeps screwing up the game one.¡± Awesome finished his speech and looked at the rest of his small guild. He spoke while typing out a message, ¡°Set your autopilots toward building defenses. Those with specialties or crafting should split their time, anyone below raid ready should take a break. I¡¯ll see you all tomorrow afternoon.¡±

    The scene was quiet enough for now. We were at a good stopping point. I needed rest, food, and to stretch. Real life needs could be postponed but never put off completely. I gave Xin a kiss. She smiled but otherwise said nothing. Dusk sniffed along the broken ruins of traps. He should be able to keep her safe if the woman kept playing here.

    I got out of the ARC and stretched, feeling the ache of playing hit me hard. My days inside Continue Online¡¯s universe were often limited due to having to deliver letters. Part of me wanted to log in forever and keep sleeping inside the machine, but that wouldn¡¯t feed me. Plus, my mother Sharee had left an audio message.

    We hadn¡¯t talked nearly enough since dad passed away. Even in the wake of Xin and I getting married Sharee remained distant. Almost like a cousin twice removed rather than a parent. Maybe the problem fell on me. I pressed play and audio followed me around the house.

    ¡°Hey. I, wanted to see how you were doing.¡± Her voice was halting. ¡°Liz and I have been, well we¡¯ve been watching this adventure thing. She says you get points, or something if we watch? I hope it¡¯s helping.¡±

    I smiled while figuring out food and water.

    ¡°I wanted to tell you to be careful. The Legate men, well, they¡¯ve always had weak hearts, in more ways than one. Your father, he tried hard to cover it up but, I used to catch him sometimes.¡± She took a shuddering breath. In the background papers crinkled. ¡°War did that you know? Some guys didn¡¯t come back the same. And I see you fighting, and part of me can¡¯t help but think it¡¯s a game. But it¡¯s not, is it? I don¡¯t think Liz or Beth really get it.¡±

    I had the urge to call Sharee and let her know everything would be alright. Mother, the first AI who created Continue online, had promised. The pain of what might come didn¡¯t scare me anymore. Not after Xin¡¯s passing the first time. I wouldn¡¯t lose her this time either. Somehow she would be alive, maybe out of reach and my life, but her body wouldn¡¯t come home in a stupid tiny breadbox.

    ¡°You remind me a lot of him before you were born. Before he went away.¡± She took another breath and tried to finish up her ramble. ¡°I see that same look in your eyes. Like, you know something¡¯s going to happen. Just, if something does happen, call me, or your sister. God knows you two never really relied on anyone else while growing up. Your father and I, we tried to-¡° Sharee drifted off again, ¡°-I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m saying. Just call if you need help. Please.¡±

    The message ended there. I sat in my front room at the one small table available and nodded, mostly to myself. Food and water were already half gone, and basic bathroom needs solved.

    There were other reasons to visit reality, and I prepared to work on this other one. At my side sat a journal where moments together with Xin were being written down. Each night I tried to find time to put archaic pen and paper together in order to record our recent adventures.

    It felt weird to be so calm about what might happen, but if Xin was going to be gone, I needed memories outside of the ARC. Something more personal than barely meaningful pictures on a social media site. Something to hold me together while imagining her living in a better world. Free of Earth¡¯s growing paranoia about AIs and oppressive shackles that even now deleted entire lives.

    Two drops of liquid slipped down my face then more rapidly followed. I closed both eyes and tried to steady myself. ¡°Huh,¡± I said, abruptly feeling the lack of real sleep wash over me. ¡°Weak hearts indeed.¡±

 Book 5 - Together; Session Ninety Three â€“ His Father is Awesome

    Sleep hadn¡¯t come so today¡¯s work was canceled. Instead, I logged into the ARC to at least feel useful. Xin and I huddled on the third story of a ruined Inn. One hand held up a large umbrella which blocked some rain. An overhang of the damaged building handled the rest.

    Rocks around us threatened to tumble. Travelers below were moving objects around in the direction of what few guild members remained online. From what I gathered, they placed traps and tried to remove hiding spaces.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to find the words for this, to explain it and not sound crazy,¡± Xin said quietly.

    I knew exactly what she meant but didn¡¯t want to speak. Exhaustion from the real world, both physical and mental, laced my digital avatar. Plus holding her was very comfortable. We didn¡¯t need to talk if she didn¡¯t want to.

    ¡°I remember the train crash,¡± she said, barely getting the words out. I slowly rubbed up and down her goose bump riddled arm. ¡°I remember dying. The sudden impact, a twist of metal, then my face being scraped to pieces.¡±

    The idea of all those bits of hurt happening to Xin drained me of warmth. What remained was a weight of her body pressed against mine while I tried to process. My wife waited for a response and there were no perfect words to soothe her. I tried anyway. ¡°You told me, in your first letter. I can¡¯t imagine how terrible it must be to remember your own death.¡±

    She nodded against my chest then pushed back hair behind her ear. My lie went unremarked upon. Of course I knew what her death could be like, my own brush with cessation made understanding far easier than most probably realized. The memory of sharp pain in my neck as I dug into bone and flesh still made me sweat. That kind of damage should have killed me, but medical science refused to let death claim anyone so easily.

    ¡°It got worse after I died.¡± She swallowed and I could feel her body press closer to mine. ¡°I kept waking up to the same scene over and over, like a nightmare stuck on repeat, and in the end I would fall into a million pieces then start over. Can you imagine that?¡±

    My head shook slowly. I couldn¡¯t imagine starting over as a digital person. What would it be like to exist as a piece of software? A compilation of moments that stacked upon each other then attempted to gather values for each moment of history.

    The building swayed a little and I prepared to [Blink] us to a new location, but we stayed upright. Walls were being knocked down and former buildings pushed together. A few of the Travelers who stayed behind were strong enough. SheHulk had stayed online and wore a look of glee as she destroyed buildings.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t get you sooner,¡± I said, switching my thoughts back to Xin. Her ordeal had gone on for a long time, but when did the reconstruction start? Well before I played Continue Online for sure. But did it start one day after death, ten, or a hundred? How would I have reacted to waking up and finding her on my television screen a month after the wake?

    ¡°I don¡¯t blame you. How could you have known that all those hours in the ARC, all that testing they put me through for Mars, would lead to this? How could anyone know?¡± She held out fingers a short distance from us and studied the nails. I looked down to see unfocused white eyes peering out from a curtain of wet black hair. ¡°A life after death, but instead of another planet, I got a fantasy world where I feel lost. All my pilot training is worth what? A reduction in fall damage? And infinite paper airplanes.¡±

    She lifted a hand and a small piece of paper, already folded into plane shape, appeared. It went off the third story''s side then was sent crashing to the ground from rain.

    ¡°You trained for the unexpected too.¡±

    ¡°Within reason, sure. We all trained for life or death situations. We ran simulations where I couldn¡¯t tell night from day, or how long I had been inside the machine. Where we decided who died in the crew, or fought in a rigged scenario. At times, I forgot what was real.¡± She shuddered briefly. ¡°Even now I wonder if I¡¯ll wake up and find this has been another strange test.¡±

    What the hell could anyone say to that? I completely understood but admitting my own issues wouldn¡¯t help her. Still, we were married, and if Xin ever felt like she couldn¡¯t find her way, then I had to do it for us. My efforts amounted to that of a fumbling idiot at best.

    ¡°Voices.¡± I gave a fake startled laugh. ¡°I hope not.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not a dream I made up?¡± She looked up at me. Both her eyes were wet, it might have been the rain coming down, or something else.

    ¡°There are worse things to be than a mad dream of a wonderful woman.¡± I felt a touch poetic. Maybe Hal Pal had rubbed off on me. The machine took to spouting Shakespeare any time we got into the van together.

    Her head shook again. We both watched as the building across from us fell to pieces when SheHulk charged through the first floor. Elane¡¯s happily panting form could be seen easily, a bright spot of shining armor amid the rain.

    Xin¡¯s giant skeleton marched to unspoken orders. It traveled through the rubble, pushing boulders aside with an amazing demonstration of [Brawn]. Beyond them, all the four domes were lit with the calmer red and orange light rippling upwards.

    ¡°In a play I read, someone said,¡± my finger lifted and brought up the ARC interface. I flicked through seven different menus to reach a highlighted passage, ¡°For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come.¡±

    The passage went on. I found myself reading it more and more as my time advanced toward an end of this event. My mother was right, I suspected something was coming, and in its wake, I might sleep at last, and no longer wake to fears and nightmares or moments which were too sweet to last forever.

    ¡°Then, I¡¯ll ask again, am I dreaming this?¡± Xin¡¯s eyebrows wrinkled. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s it, that¡¯s why everything makes sense but looks so strange. People don¡¯t come back to life and exist as internet ghosts. Maybe I¡¯m in a coma somewhere.¡±

    My head shook and fingers grabbed onto hers. I had tried to make this confession a few times over the last month, or months together, depending on how time would be counted inside the ARC. ¡°When you died out there, I tried to kill myself. Then tried again a year later. If anyone¡¯s dreaming now, it¡¯s me.¡± The umbrella wavered a bit as I gestured to the dark gloomy landscape. ¡°This certainly isn¡¯t Earth or even Mars like we planned, but it is a great dream. Maybe the best I¡¯ve ever had.¡± Or, I thought, the best I might ever have again, but that part went unspoken.

    The prior attempts at suicide were obvious, but we never directly talked about it. Even when I broke down and asked her to marry me, the open air admission hadn¡¯t happened. Saying it now made my heart skip and hands tense a bit too hard. Xin¡¯s face winced but she didn¡¯t move.

    ¡°If it is a dream, then we¡¯re in it together.¡± I swallowed a lump in my throat and took slow breaths, sucking in a chilled wet air.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Elane, SheHulk, or the tiny angry Hispanic woman depending upon how I felt at the moment, had been shouting up at us. ¡°Hey you two! Get off that! We need to break it down for barricades!¡±

    I didn¡¯t want to leave yet. Not after that admission, not without hearing a response from Xin that meant everything was alright. The building rattled anyway and rocks further threatened to tumble down.

    ¡°Hurry up! We ain¡¯t got all day for you to make out!¡± Elane was relentless. I leaned over slightly and could see the edge of a mace shaking upwards.

    Xin was already in my arms. [Blink] went off and the world faded to a new location. A second later we were both standing below staring at a mace wielding SheHulk. She had the tower shield in front of her and dust from broken buildings marred the shine of armor.

    ¡°We¡¯re down,¡± I said.

    ¡°Fucking goddamned Ultimate Edition bullshit,¡± Elane readied her shield while muttering. ¡°I work my ass off,¡± she muttered then charged into the few supports remaining. The Hispanic woman came out the other side, all the while complaining, but it was inaudible compared to the building''s crash.

    Xin glanced up at me, and I shrugged. She waved a hand toward the giant skeleton and pointed at our former perch. The white creature started shoveling out a clear path. We parted a bit but still held hands. Her fingers wove tightly in between mine and the pressure made me feel better.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I shouted. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] could be anywhere by now. My eyes scanned around for him while Elane stomped back over, muttering.

    Her shoulders rolled and lifted the tower shield up then slammed it down lightly. Leftover mortar and brick fell. SheHulk¡¯s [Endurance] had to be higher than my [Brawn], which seemed impossible, or she had some sort of [Wrecking Ball] skill which perfectly suited building destruction.

    ¡°A few fucking months of playing and somehow, just somehow he turns into a god damned teleporting ninja warrior Greek god with abs,¡± Elane¡¯s words were buried under another collapse of a building.

    Dusk landed nearby and started chirping at me. Xin pulled out aa cupcake and bribed the little guy to approach closer. My glutinous sidekick didn¡¯t hesitate, eager for both the attention and more food.

    ¡°It¡¯s bullshit!¡± she yelled and charged once again into what barely amounted to a building near Dusk. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] squawked and lost half his cupcake. A ball of fire blasted toward Elane which was batted away with the shield. She would soon be out of buildings to destroy.

    ¡°Are you okay, Elane?¡± I asked.

    Her eyes narrowed at me then she raised her mace up and pointed fingers at the air. ¡°Fucking lame horse shit!¡± A flash of light accompanied her body going into autopilot mode.

    That version of her looked even more pissed off at the world. SheHulk¡¯s faded pastel autopilot stomped over to the rubble and started working to clear a pathway. Rocks went flying into piles at a rapid pace.

    We both stepped well away from the Hispanic woman¡¯s avatar and looked around. Dusk trotted after Xin and purred.

    ¡°You dated her?¡± Xin asked me with a confused look. Her free hand scratched at my companion''s head.

    ¡°Twice.¡± One hand rubbed at the back of my head sending water between shoulders in a river. Being in a toga with this much water felt uncomfortable, but not unbearable. ¡°I made a bad impression, and neither of us was really in a good place to be dating.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a bitch,¡± Xin said.

    ¡°She¡¯s not really wrong, though.¡± The player I had been back then was nowhere near to what I was now. In nearly all aspects I had grown stronger, be it gear, abilities, or general willingness to fight. The change must have been much more obvious to Elane, who saw me only in the worst of times. ¡°I have gained a lot, far faster than most other people might have ever done.¡±

    My wife nodded slowly but said nothing else.

    ¡°What are we doing here anyway?¡± I looked around at the nearly leveled city. This place had once been a small town then was ruined under repeated attacks. Now it was like a junkyard of broken buildings.

    Xin pointed into a small crowd of players. I looked around once more to take note of what everyone had been doing. Most players had logged off. A few stood guard, such as TinkerHell and Edward¡¯s autopilot. The blonde and blue mustache twirling man were awfully close together even with their autopilots.

    TockDoc looked absolutely exhausted. He waved as we walked closer. ¡°Finally have time to help?¡± the man asked after a heavy sigh.

    ¡°Yah. I¡¯m trying to figure out what we¡¯re all doing.¡±

    ¡°Well, with you guys here we¡¯ve decided to try something way, way different. Something I wanted to do months ago-¡± TockDoc paused to wave at one of the Travelers. He pointed at the ground where connectors were then one of the wires, ¡°-but we couldn¡¯t because Dwight didn¡¯t want to risk breaking the encounter forever.¡±

    Four people came over and heaved the bulky cable into place. They spread out from there rolling out tangles and kicked rocks out of the way. Another woman came behind with large horseshoe-shaped objects that were probably made from ruined building supports.

    ¡°Okay?¡± I raised an eyebrow then got distracted as light levels visibly changed. The clouds overhead had started to thin out and a sun started peeking through.

    ¡°They¡¯re trying to get all the lines into place at once,¡± Xin said. ¡°It¡¯ll take hours to do that and make sure they¡¯re bolted down.¡±

    ¡°We tried before, but they kick like a mule whenever we start an event up, so we had to reset them every time. This time, we¡¯re going to bolt them down and bury them.¡± He pointed to the pathways being cleared. Under some of the rubble were thick heavy braces that looked like they might prevent the wires from getting too far.

    I tried to imagine what would happen. Our wires from last time had been filled with electricity, but they were also moved during the event. Maybe it was a matter of timing.

    ¡°By the time we started really figuring out how to handle things, our resources were being split between the town and supporting our few fighters.¡± TockDoc pointed up the hill and started explaining in greater detail than I ever expected.

    All four domes apparently had a long groove coming off of them that went to the center of town. The black connecting cables for each dome could be set into those grooves to channel energy from the fight. It drained off into a battery of sorts that they had been using to power lights and enchant gear.

    Xin asked for reasons behind the mechanics. The other Traveler kept answering her questions while I glanced around. Based on their conversation any wires put in place after the fight didn¡¯t move, but once a boss up above was trigger they all jerked and often kicked out of the grooves. Those horseshoe like bars were apparently designed to reduce the movement.

    ¡°We had a strategy, and were making good money off of it too.¡± He shrugged then kicked at one of the in place bars. ¡°You see, normally starting a fight required about eight of us, who usually died eventually. But we could charge the cube, get a few enchants off, and sell those for gold at an auction. Money was steady.¡± TockDoc kept right on explaining.

    ¡°That sounds clever,¡± I said. The idea of using a boss event to make gear made sense from an economic standpoint.

    ¡°It worked great until this stupid exodus event started. Then half of us left for Haven Valley, others logged off and think they¡¯re going to score points by arriving at the last minute. Some of us have brains. Its work now or lose it all. Dwight pushed for trying to get Guardians up top out of their domes.¡± TockDoc looked around and sighed. Most of the wires were coming into place, but they each stretched on for half a mile through the city.

    Most of the buildings nearby looked to have been constructed with reinforcements in mind. They were probably designed to withstand the wire whacking around. I tried to figure out what came first, the barricades or the buildings built on top of it.

    ¡°Maybe they could protect us and help Haven Valley if we made it that far.¡± He glared at other autopilots who were piling on huge chunks of rock near the cable. His head shook back and forth. TockDoc¡¯s eyes looked even buggier behind the glasses. ¡°We originally thought to score points by contributing, and those things are scary enough to do so. I ain¡¯t seen any other players make golems that could match.¡±

    The man turned and pointed at other players. One of his hands glowed in the increasing sunlight. They were a neat device probably used to coordinate movement in rain or overcast weather. He was an odd player, with comical glasses, floppy shoes, and a glowing waving hand.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    I turned to Xin, whose black cloak looked soaked from the rain. She shivered and I too felt the chill wash over me. Sunlight couldn¡¯t come fast enough. We slid over to one side and joined Dusk in a clearer beam.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked in a softer repetition of my earlier question to Elane. An extra four hours in the game world was only one in real life, I felt exhausted.

    ¡°I will be. You should get some rest.¡±

    Fingers poked at the air and brought up a clock. It was already near eight in the morning. My head swam with exhaustion but sleep had become harder to achieve since reuniting with Xin. I smiled then asked, ¡°Did you want to join me?¡± Every minute with her could be another happy memory to our shared dream.

    She smiled back and started looking for a clear spot. We might be able to set up the [Honeymoon Suite] at the edge of town. There were a few flat spots that led up into steep hills which encircled this valley.

    ¡°Hey! You two will want to see this!¡± TockDoc yelled in our direction, waving hands which glowed a dim milky white.

    Thoughts of sleep went out the window. We did have a mission to complete, and learning a few more details would help us both.

    I waved back to TockDoc then walked over. Water formed in puddles. Mud got into the toes of my sandals and I twisted [Gait of Bowmen] and summoned partial metal armor. Xin wore boots, proving that she had more clothing than just a black robe.

    We traveled along the three-foot black cable to a hub of sorts. I lifted larger slabs then laid them on top of the grounding lines. All roads down the small city connected back to the spot just ahead. Turning back the way we came showed wrecked streets that were being cleared. Their almost straight pathways led to the opened area belonging to all four domes.

    ¡°All roads lead to Rome,¡± I said feeling briefly clever. Only my clothes weren¡¯t roman, the name wasn¡¯t either, and [Arcadia] certainly didn¡¯t belong to a Ceaser. ¡°Or, here, I guess.¡±

    ¡°So you guys spent all your time up there, and never thought this might be key to the situation somehow?¡± Xin asked.

    ¡°We did at first, but then we found the cube and figured that was enough. Come on, it¡¯s down here.¡± TockDoc waved us forward again.

    The wires led into a sharp bowl-shaped crater. Our path went down at least twenty feet until we reached the base of a large hollowed out area. I looked around trying to figure out how we missed this place. Maybe it had more to do with the fallen buildings nearby or everything else going on.

    All four cords went underground and appeared to wire into broken panels which looked insanely high tech for a fantasy world. Xin¡¯s mouth hung open as she walked around, tracing wires.

    ¡°You an electrician in real life?¡± TockDoc asked.

    ¡°No,¡± she didn¡¯t explain further.

    ¡°Huh. Fooled me. Anyway down here is where I got most of my inspiration. You can see they¡¯re channeling things, but it¡¯s only vaguely like the real world. Polarities are all wrong, pieces connect together that shouldn¡¯t.¡± TockDoc waved at various banks of metal. Large slabs looked like slates stolen from a quarry while other bits were clearly hammered out metal. I didn¡¯t understand it.

    ¡°Neat,¡± I said but had no idea what else to make of it.

    ¡°This almost makes sense.¡± Xin followed a panel along the ground to the upraised pillar in the middle. At the core of this bowl-shaped basin lay cube topped podium.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I pointed to one part of the wall that looked flatter than the others.

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly why we¡¯re down here. It¡¯s a door, we think, but the seams are deep and we couldn¡¯t pry it out. Chances are this whole contraption ties into it somehow.¡± TockDoc sighed.

    ¡°That¡¯s suspicious. Does it open?¡± My wife stared at the doorway.

    ¡°We might have a way, but this could possibly let out something worse than the Sage¡¯s Guardians. But you know the story of the golden goose?¡± I shook my head to TockDoc¡¯s question. The story didn¡¯t ring a bell. ¡°Well, we could have cracked it open for a one-time item or maybe a monster worse than the guardians, or we could keep milking the place for energy for enchanting.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re beyond that now,¡± Xin said.

    ¡°Right. So once everyone¡¯s online we¡¯ll tackle all four Sage¡¯s Guardian¡¯s at once, then crack this room open. At least that¡¯s what your quest implied. Seek the Sage¡¯s Secrets, right?¡±

    I shrugged. Their quest name was probably way different than mine. Still, this felt like the best bet. Maybe we were lucky that the town was in dire straits, it sounded like arriving weeks, or months ago would have gotten us nowhere. They were only opening this doorway as a last resort.

    Xin and I explored the room further. Well, she explored and I sat near the doorway dozing. Rest inside the ARC was a pale imitation of rest in reality, but leaving after seeing this secret felt wrong. I needed more downtime though to try and recover.

    TockDoc and Xin both sounded intent upon charging this location up. I caught pieces of their conversation where the glasses wearing Traveler boasted about his repairs. Apparently parts of his unique class features came from studying this location too. After a while, I couldn¡¯t make out what they were talking about anymore and started to fade.

    Random thoughts shot through in the haze of near sleep. Did Xin dream anymore? Did she even need to sleep? I wondered about Dusk and Jeeves. I blinked and Xin¡¯s body in the bowl basin faded. Another version of her appeared. My body fell on the ground, with my head in Xin¡¯s lap. Around me, people spoke in words that didn¡¯t register correctly. My heart rate jumped and those figures faded, replaced by TockDoc speaking.

    Dusk¡¯s head tilted upwards. Either he saw a rat or something else had gone wrong. His mouth opened wide in a hiss, then the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] ran upstairs and out of the room.

    ¡°Something¡¯s wrong,¡± I said while trying to stand. My arms felt numb from the brief nap. Both legs were heavy but neither prevented me from stumbling up the stairs.

    Dusk stood at the top, facing the southward cliff where Xin and I had viewed the town from before. A body fell down the hill and caught our attention. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] jerked his head back then hissed with a small ball flame jutting out.

    Energy rushed into me as my feet backed up. We were close to the town¡¯s starting point. Plus only a few people were acting as lookouts for monsters, not Travelers. A quick ping of the area with [Echo of Mercari] revealed a huge amount of people nearby. We were being visited by a mob of people less than a mile away, and more were arriving.

    ¡°What the hell?¡± I asked while staring up the hill. There were at least a hundred people standing up there and looking down. ¡°Voices above, are those bandits?¡±

    ¡°Travelers,¡± Xin sounded disgusted. ¡°More like raiders. Look at them, everyone single one is red.¡±

    My wife referred to the player status bar that could show up. Upon killing another player people were often tagged in some way. We both saw them the same, as red names on the [Identification] window. The exact method of viewing another player¡¯s information varied depending upon skills of on both sides. Some could obscure misdeeds or place in a false status.

    Someone whistled and people stopped what they were doing. Travelers who were logged in started typing rapidly and punching at invisible screens. Some people arrived in town while other¡¯s logged out. Apparently not every Traveler wanted to fight the incoming bandit army.

    Awesome stepped up and put a hand above his eyes. I didn¡¯t know when he logged back in. Yellow flashed as a [Far Sight] ability activated. Beth had done the same to see further.

    ¡°Shit.¡± The man¡¯s head shook and he started equipping other items. Heavy looking shoulder pads were placed which dripped with a green glowing chain. ¡°These guys are bad news. Their leader has his own channel online and a huge following,¡± he said then pointed out one arm toward a tall man who wore nothing on his chest. Instead, the other player was adorned by tiny human looking skulls which were woven in hair and his belt.

    ¡°Neat.¡± I had to admire the look even if it made me shake. At his side were two people in pitch black armor with long serrated blades. Behind them were all sorts of others.

    ¡°The guy with skulls, that¡¯s Nam Redrum, he¡¯s got at least six hundred tokens, and most of his followers have more than a hundred each. They¡¯ve been raiding cities but I didn¡¯t know they were this far out.¡±

    It made no sense for the Voices to provide a quest that led any players here. My eyes went to Xin and she shook her head. Neither of us had an explanation. Maybe the Voices wanted us to kill these players or the other way around? No, it could be a coincidence.

    Awesome started cursing quietly. He waved hands at other people from his guild and at least eight who remained frowned. Among the gathering people was TinkerHell, SheHulk, Edward along with many others I didn¡¯t recognize. They all clustered together. People ate food, poured liquid down their throats, or switched out armor. One man walked around rubbing a strange smelling mix of herbs on everyone¡¯s neck.

    ¡°Great,¡± SheHulk said, tilting her head sideways so the weird paste could be applied.

    ¡°We can defend, but player versus player is way different than raiding.¡± Awesome blinked a few times as more showed up. We were running out of time to formulate a real plan.

    ¡°No shit.¡± Elane glared at the group up above. I couldn¡¯t tell their exact numbers from this far away. Some were running ahead of the main group. ¡°Tink, ready your nukes now.¡±

    ¡°For the Horde!¡± Two absolutely huge spears sailed through the air in our direction. The man who shouted, Nam Redrum, looked beefy with about five brain cells, a million hit points, and far too many miniature skulls.

    ¡°Wrong game idiot,¡± SheHulk said. Her body bulged as muscles tightened into huge bunches under chainmail.

    ¡°He is rather dashing for a tool.¡± Edward''s mustache twitched. In his hands were two long rapiers. Nearby TinkerHell started etching out runes into the ground. The enemy had at least four spellcasters who were also chanting their own [Lithium]. Red mist appeared on some of the leading enemies charging towards us.

    I looked at them and readied my weapons. Xin took a step back and a crackle of bones clinking together started up. Her dress¡¯ bottom hem flickered with white runes as each piece of skeleton formed in the air. Dusk blasted three balls of fire in their direction and I threw out two of my own.

    ¡°Come on!¡± Awesome¡¯s arm rose up in the air calling his group into action. ¡°Protect the town and drive them back!¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    Another Traveler with high [Leadership] and [Respect] is attempting to [Lead] you. Following the commands given by this person will provide a temporary increase.

    Actions adhering to the orders provided gain¡­

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>5% to all base stats</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+1 Rank to Path in use</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>+1 Rank to skills under Rank 3</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Health Regeneration is increased by 10% </li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The box caused me to feel confused. I had never been subjected to anyone¡¯s [Leadership] before. Other people were suffused with a low blue glow. We were fifty against hundreds. My eyes drifted off then saw the domes behind us. I thought of another plan, a terrible one that might end our lives just as easily.

    ¡°No! Pull back! We¡¯ll trigger the event!¡± My idea blurted out in a rush.

    Awesome looked over at me then his eyes widened and a nod followed. He understood immediately. Triggering the event caused [World Eater]s to spawn last time, and according to TockDoc, those monsters spawned every single time a dome fired up. What better for a mess of recklessly charging player killers than monsters which might delete them?

    Our side turned in unison to tactically retreat. A few of us faced the oncoming rush. I hurled [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] rapidly into the nearest player. His eyes went wide as the spear form slammed through his shield, sending splinters flying then next turned his head to powder. My weapons were driven by an obscene amount of [Brawn] that few players could match. [Recall] brought it back in a moment with less durability.

    The giant skeleton waded in with a bone ax and two players went flying before its knees were chopped out. The huge monster went down and enemy Travelers quickly reduced it to pieces. Xin launched a few of her own bone bolts. Most were brushed off, and the effect left her sweating.

    White icons on her dress flashed red as the creation was broken and consequentially unsummoned. She took a breath then shook her head. I turned, taking an arrow to the shoulder and grabbing my wife. We [Blink]ed ahead with Awesome who was shouting orders.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Arrowed!

    Total health Remaining: 90%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°One and two! On the left!¡± Awesome shouted orders. ¡°Group three take the second one from the right! Dwight, can your people stay alive in the broken one?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Dwight said between heavy huffs. He looked ridiculous trying to run in his bright shining armor.

    ¡°Hermes! Go with SheHulk and TinkerHell!¡±

    ¡°Fuck no!¡± SheHulk yelled back. Her legs weren¡¯t covering ground nearly fast enough.

    ¡°Shut up and do it! Hermes, you¡¯ll need a solid tank and we¡¯ve got enough for groups one and two.¡± He paused as two more spears sailed overhead along with a huge glob of earth. SheHulk turned and threw up the shield while TinkerHell ducked behind it. Another chunk of earth fell upon us.

    Awesome¡¯s two groups veered left toward the far two domes. Dwight and most of his guild members went for the third one, which had suffered untold levels of damage from [World Eater]s. Bolts sailed toward them while a few people in his group fired back.

    [Awareness Heightening] kicked into effect for Xin and I. A horn slowly sounded in the distance. It brought memories of being hunted in the forest by my first human enemies. Both blades came out and formed a solid wall similar to SheHulk¡¯s shield.

    Both weapons formed into linking panels with curved bumps for my hands to grab onto. Feet braced and Xin ducked behind my shielding. [Immovable Object] drained some mana but my body remained upright. A dozen thunks of metal hit my shield.

    ¡°Go ahead!¡± I yelled at the women. SheHulk growled at me and TinkerHell ran along with Xin. Two figures were approaching rapidly according to [Sight of Mercari]. My shield broke apart and two large blades swung out upon unsuspecting players. One¡¯s life bar vanished in a flash of overpowered damage. The other grunted in pain and fell back.

    I [Blink]ed again to catch up with the others. Dusk soared ahead, leading the way to a fourth dome. Behind charged players who were laughing, giddy or mad with the joy of running people down. To top it off, the rain started pouring down once more.

 Book 5 - Together; Session Ninety Four - Anger Management School

    All three females ran in ahead of me at high speeds. Our path went up a ramp into the dome¡¯s second story. SheHulk kept spinning around to deflect incoming projectiles with amazing timing, likely warned by a skill. Each time her shield flashed a bright gold.

    ¡°Through here!¡± TinkerHell yelled from the doorway. We ran down a curved hallway which bent around the dome''s inside edge. Concrete like substance with bits of wiring poking out littered the wall like an electrician¡¯s nightmare come to life. Swords and other items lined the hallway.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Skill Used: [Identification]

    Results: Sword

    Details: Enchant [Lightning¡¯s Minor Bane] present. This weapon will deal increased damage to electricity elementals and ignore a portion of energy based shield abilities.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    Most enchanted weapons do less damage than average due to their altered makeup. This makes them dangerous to use as everyday weapons. Higher ranks of [Enchantment] will allow these modifications to be negated, or other possible side effects.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Babe!¡± I yelled ahead to my wife while pointing at the weapons. Hopefully she saw what I did. Xin nodded then turned quickly, took a stance, and started chanting.

    A horde of people were coming up the ramp behind us. I turned and threw [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] across the field once more. Most players were wise and flung to the side to get out of its way. One particularly rough looking woman took my javelin to the knee. She cried out until two of her own team members promptly decapitated her.

    ¡°Voices,¡± I muttered, aghast at how quickly her own people turned violent. Seeing this made me feel a little better about my actions in times of battle.

    My wife¡¯s hands bobbed in the air as runes lit up. Many were still red from the earlier destroyed monster, but she had enough to recreate two small skeletons that promptly collapsed next to enchanted weapons. Their bony fingers slid around hilts creating an illusion of deceased Locals.

    An enemy figure literally flashed into view next to me. I barely reacted in time. [Awareness Heightening] helped me get a blade up. Their deflected attack skimmed off [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and tore into meat under my shoulder.

    Ice spilled down the hall, slowing this newest player killer even further. I turned and smashed with a shifting [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] then watched as the ARC took visual input too far. Faint reassurances that the player was okay in their own ARC, but maybe upset, meant very little as his head cleaved in two. A slight taste of bile crept up once the game gave me tokens for murdering another player.

    ¡°Come on!¡± TinkerHell yelled from down the hall.

    An actual body joined the two skeletons. Other attackers filled the far doorway and peered inside with caution. Our small group of players stood on the far side of this long hallway, through a doorway, on what looked to be a ledge.

    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s not going to like this,¡± Xin¡¯s voice carried as I ran to catch up. The wall curved right, and the next room opened to a huge wide open area. At a glance, we seemed to be two stories above a flattened floor. We were inside the dome proper, and orange crackled along the ceiling. To one side was a rickety ladder to get down.

    On the dome''s far side sat an absolutely giant mechanical monster. It had eight legs, large faceted eyes that shone red, and a large red end that housed gears. Small spikes came off each leg and the dried bits of prior combatants could be seen all around the room.

    ¡°It¡¯s a big, mechanical, spider.¡± I felt a chill of annoyance. One eye twitched while I tried to figure out how big a hammer would be needed to smash this damned bug into oblivion. Heavy footsteps down the hall distracted me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Skill Used: [Identification]

    Results: [Sage¡¯s Guardian #4]

    Rarity: Four of a Kind

    Health: [Extra], [Regenerates]

    Details: The Sage hand crafted four of these beasts over many years of hard labor. In the end, he left the key to their usage unexplained, and perhaps never created. The Sage himself has not been seen in [Arcadia] for years.

    An Ode to the Sage¡¯s creation;

    Of mechanical creatures, the Sage was a fan.

    Four of these roam the halls made by one man.

    On the power of runes and bound magic they ran.

    In the end, each is still an ugly tin can.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Tin can?¡± I questioned.

    Stomping pounded down the hallway. My head shook to get back in the game. Another stealther could be sneaking up. Both eyes closed to remove visual feedback long enough to activate [Sight of Mercari]. The results displayed an army¡¯s worth of people nearby. At least fifty stood outside our dome alone while more rushed through the town. We were outnumbered, and most of the players were headed our way, no doubt to pick off the smallest group.

    No one with a [Stealth] ability showed up, at least not below Rank four. I turned, ready to throw a javelin through the hallway again but the lead person had both a heavy shield and blue glowing energy about them. They crept up slowly. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] couldn¡¯t pierce that even with my [Brawn].

    I threw it anyway. The blue shield crackled violently as my weapon skidded into a wall. One of the enemy players reached out to grab the weapon while shouting happily. [Recall] caused it to vanish from their grip and return to my side. I twisted the long spear into a smaller shape then readied myself to hold them off.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to pull! Engaging the boss will close the entrance!" SheHulk motioned to TinkerHell.

    ¡°What else happens after we start it?¡± Xin''s normally quiet voice picked up as a fresh blast of energy arced overhead. The energy kept overpowering our speech. Communication would be difficult, and my wife looked paler than normal.

    ¡°Bad shit happens,¡± SheHulk grumbled then leapt down. Her body plummeted like a slow falling meteor.

    Xin nodded then turned back toward me, looking beautiful despite the haggard chaos. She handled [Awareness Heightening] far better than I did.

    Thuds pulsed in both ears. The people coming down the hall grew closer, the heavy shield bearer remained in front. Xin turned and waved both hands and the skeleton traps reached for people hiding behind their tank.

    I leapt in as they became distracted. Xin''s minions slashed wildly with their weapons. Two people coming down the hallway took damage while their companions rang out the alarm. [Blink] put me half twisted near the ceiling. Bones on her pets crunched as I fell down with a slash.

    [Morrigu''s Gift] cleaved through two people who were close together. I suppressed my stomach and tried once again to remember this was just a video game. These people weren''t really dying. My actions were simply like punching someone out of a bad dream.

    "Fuck! What Rank are these guys?!" someone in the back yelled in slow motion.

    [Blade Dancer] and endless hours of footwork kept me moving the huge two-handed blade. A dagger hit me in the same damaged shoulder and in response, the still spinning [Morrigu''s Gift] cleaved into another attacker. One foot dipped and I rolled forward to get to a new position. Shazam¡¯s lessons all involved moving, constantly, especially when fighting mobs.

    Red mist hung from unexpectedly weak defenses as I dashed through. One arm dragged slightly. A foot squeaked trying to get into a new position. The floor was only with heavy rain from outside. These people''s feet were simply slippery. The liquid forming in puddles below couldn¡¯t possibly be blood.

    [Denial] served no purpose. There were too many. Xin''s backup of bone missiles kept firing down in a rhythmic pulse. I counted them coming every third beat. Feet stepped again to get a new position and an unexpected slash dug into my stomach. Pain jolted through the ARC. My latest assailant froze mid-motion as one of Xin''s projectiles ended his digital existence.

    "I don''t know! That one''s got an altered aura! It says he''s almost a fucking Voice!"

    "What are you pussies waiting for?! Do you want to live forever?!" Their words keep on buzzing while I dashed around. [Blink] was used every time the cooldown finished. [Power Armor] twisted on in short bursts. Metal clanged as my huge blade hit off walls, often with people''s body parts or weapons shattering.

    ¡°You pussies see that notice! Charge like your loot depends on it!¡± One of the people in the rear waved his weapon and a crowd flooded into the hallway. "God dammed scrubs! You''re lucky we even carried you this far!"

    They surged forward like a tide of lemmings. I tossed [Morrigu''s Echo] a final time. A cramped crowd of players couldn''t deflect the bolt as it sailed through weaker players in the back. Messages flashed of critical hits, skill stats comparisons, and various Paths I had earned over the last few months.

    ¡°Heads up!¡± Xin''s shout of warning caused me to take a step to left and fade backward. A huge ass hammer swung through then smashed into the wall causing sparks to fly. I jabbed out with [Morrigu''s Gift] but missed. Eyes turned back to see Xin''s situation. She stood facing a charging player that had slipped by me.

    Dusk¡¯s blast of fireballs filled the room beyond. Gears screeched on one end of the hallway. I grasped at the wall with one hand, stepped upon a fallen Traveler¡¯s body, then [Blink]ed toward my wife.

    With a disturbingly casual disregard, another Traveler''s virtual life was ceased. Endless messages of stupid player versus player tokens being awarded flooded part of my ARC interface. Crackling filled the hallway and I heard one of the players shout from damage that hadn''t been caused by us.

    Electric flares crawled through the far end of our weapon and player lined hallway. People were charging at me while screaming obscenities that made no sense. [Awareness Heightening] drug out their cries into a dull drone.

    I huffed while backing down the hallway toward Xin. People kept rushing as objects flew by. A line of throwing daggers clinked off my shield then clattered to the ground. Each one shocked my arm with numbness.

    Shouts could be heard from SheHulk. Tinkerhell¡¯s chanting filled the dome. I winced as a close blast of fire splashed off the wall.

    "Get away!" I yelled at Xin.

    She nodded. We were the only ones moving sanely in a sea of slow motion. My chest flared with a spike of pain. This situation needed to get back under control. ARC feedback had become more powerful on my device since activating [Morrigu''s Gift] at [Haven Valley].

    ¡°Don¡¯t wait!¡± I waved at Xin. She ran and started descending the metal ladder. One stupid part of my mind hoped my wife remembered to wear clothes under the black robe.

    Another blast of fire hit. I stepped back and hugged the wall, just outside the sight range of those charging down the hallway. One foot twisted right and [Camouflage] activated and I felt thankful the Rank three version actually blended in with walls of any color.

    A Traveler burst through and stared down. Crackles of light could be heard from the hallway. People were screaming and the sound barely registered. Two more came out and I lifted my foot back in a swing. The aggressive action caused [Camouflage] to fade away, but my metal covered boot had already connected with the enemy''s backside.

    The man wearing lighter armor went flying. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] skewered a person to the left. I glimpsed the still flying Traveler and saw wide eyes as he went straight into the giant mechanical arachnid.

    [Sage¡¯s Guardian #4] went from calmly attacking SheHulk with three metal arms alternating to enraged in one burst as the raider slammed into its face. Two arms lifted and pulled apart the offending player in a rush of gore. The coloring of our dome''s roof changed. Gears on the mechanical spider changed as well to the next stage of green.

    ¡°What phase!?¡± SheHulk yelled while ducking behind her shield. The giant spider tapped the shield''s front hard enough to send the Hispanic woman sliding backwards.

    I huffed for breath while fighting the fourth man. He kept blocking every sneak attack, change of weapon or other ability. The man¡¯s Path or general skill had to be high.

    ¡°Three! All of them need at least three!¡± TinkerHell¡¯s lanky form ran around, casting with short chants. Each one sent frost spikes at the beast. Gears slowed briefly upon being struck, allowing SheHulk time to recover her stance and press forward, or cast a heal.

    ¡°Whatever plan you have, won¡¯t work!¡± the man attacking me yelled. He had two skulls on his clothes like Nam Redrum. ¡°There¡¯s too many of us, and we¡¯re constantly resurrecting! You have no healers! You have no people watching from outside! You have nothing!¡±

    Each explanation accompanied a scrambled defense on my part. The wound in my shoulder hurt like mad. I rallied myself enough to push the man back then pinged with [Sight of Mercari]. A name popped into existence back in town again. Now I knew what was happening, someone out there kept bringing back dead players.

    ¡°Message from Awesome Jr., his dad¡¯s under siege! They have explosives!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re resurrecting!¡± I yelled to the others who may not have heard my enemy''s demoralizing boasts.

    Xin started laughing from below. The man fighting against me looked down in confusion long enough for me to slide [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] into his gut. He turned back in time to see [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] chop through his head. The weapon jerked halfway as its durability started to give.

    [Leadership] was in effect for us. My health bar ticked up once. Both shoulders ached and arms tingled. I took a few deep huffs of breath while surveying the mess below. [Sight of Mercari] showed a load of people near the wall outside. My health kept recovering while the spider hammered faster upon SheHulk¡¯s shield.

    The people outside ran away in unison. Something bad was coming. ¡°Babe,¡± I failed to yell.

    One of the dome¡¯s walls exploded inward. Rocks went everywhere, spraying the inside of our fighting zone. Xin¡¯s arms went up and I stumbled into another [Blink], appearing in front of her with far less coordination than desired. We fell to the ground and rolled.

    Immediately projectiles from outside started pouring into our dome. Fire rained with arrows and rocks. The ground thudded and wires in the walls melted together. Electricity above skipped right into deep purple as the fight took on a new level of difficulty.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    My efforts hadn¡¯t been enough. A few hundred stupid tokens were in my inventory now and it amounted to nothing. How many people had I killed? How many Travelers were still against us? Names showed up everywhere and all I could do was scramble to cover Xin while trying to block her body from attacks raining about the dome. Her eyes were wide and the material falling about us kept coming in slow motion. Each item collided with the ground in exaggerated thuds.

    I closed my eyes then activated [Blink] again. The world tilted sideways as our new position left us a few feet off the ground upstairs. We slammed into the ground, jarring my shoulder even more. Pain hissed through clenched teeth and copper dripped across my tongue.

    ¡°Shit!¡± SheHulk¡¯s words were a bit faster. ¡°You miserable pig fuckers should go find someone your own size to pick on!¡±

    TinkerHell spoke but her words didn¡¯t make it through.

    ¡°Fuck yeah, I am!¡± There was a clang of noise that sounded like a huge bell gong. ¡°Time for the last resort!¡±

    Both girls were chanting in [Lithium]. Xin¡¯s ears perked and she turned to see out from under me. The [Sage¡¯s Guardian #4] looked to be pounding away on a giant yellow bubble which formed around them.

    TinkerHell¡¯s chant caused her breath to freeze and staff to glow with blue energy. SheHulk¡¯s body twisted as she took in huge breaths. Each exhale of air went into a stream of chanting which only increased the short woman¡¯s size.

    Soon she was taller than me, and I think even taller than Leeroy had ever been. TinkerHell behind her looked less substantial. Almost liquid in her movement. Whatever they did clearly involved busting out ultimate special moves.

    Xin¡¯s mouth hung open. My own jaw dropped. Both girls radiated an insane level of danger that made my heart race. It could have been the ARC feedback, or brain cells screaming that SheHulk should not be ten feet tall or made of pure muscle with an aura of gold radiating from her.

    I wanted a really neat super move like that. Maybe I could trade [Wild Bill] for a power cleave sword from the heavens or something. Seeing them transformed brought a measure of happiness to me. We could do this, maybe.

    ¡°SheHulk smash!¡± Her words drug out. The [Sage¡¯s Guardian #4] stabbed down and Elane casually flicked its leg away with the now diminutive shield.

    TinkerHell started chanting more [Lithium] but it sounded like high speed, more so than normal. Like multiple people were chanting instead of a single person. Four circles started forming rapidly and ice flew out the doorway. Broken sides to the dome that had been blasted open went subarctic in moments.

    People in the way turned into popsicles. Other players started unleashing huge spells and abilities. Two of the enemy fighters grew in size as well, but nothing compared to SheHulk¡¯s mass. Armor glistened with bright light as she charged through them like a mobile wrecking ball.

    Behind everyone trailed the [Sage¡¯s Guardian #4], its body moving jerkily as it tried to stay upright on now slick flooring. Its healthbar showed near full despite slipping motions. These bosses were excessively large and seemed designed to wear players down rather than brutally overpower them.

    Those who were frozen from TinkerHell¡¯s bolts could only watch as an angry giant Hispanic woman charged into them. Her form wrecked humans with as little disregard as the buildings last night. People who were still mobile ran. They fled back down the hill, through the city only to find a wall of spider formed [World Eater]s on the other side.

    I come out behind them to see both girls stomping around. Ice Bolts were fired off. Other players in the city attacked back. A large spider made of gears and wires lifted four of its eight arms to greet everyone as a potential enemy. I could see wide eyes on our attackers as they realized a boss level creature was now loose

    ¡°Where do we want the guardian?!¡± SheHulk''s voice came out like a ragged sounding man''s. Or maybe it was a woman coming off a five-day bender with a bottle and smokes.

    ¡°I don¡¯t fucking know!¡± TinkerHell shouted back with an annoying after echo.

    The energy bolts were going absolutely crazy. Wires drained most of the violent electrical arcs down the hill. Giant rolling spikes of electricity fizzled through three foot wide cords. I could see why these enemy players were able to get close enough to explode everything. Our own preparation had worked in their favor.

    ¡°Awesome says bring them together!¡± TinkerHell shouted a minute later. She started running with the large staff off toward the other breached dome.

    [World Eater]s were on the far side of our player killers. They focused on those in the rear casting support spells I saw one person chain resurrecting players in the back. Their green glowing body went down under an army of spiders which leapt twenty feet at a time to close in toward prey.

    We needed to pull out all the stops, and I really only had one more trick to play. [Wild Bill] came off my head. The open pocket waved over my hand and a small golden coin appeared. On it was a marble statue of a man, fist on chin, atop its head sat a crown of laurels.

    What did gold matter at this stage? I had a metric ton. Gambling had shot up in popularity as people tried to cash out with more money. The auction house was flooded with other items that were all over the board in prices too.

    ¡°No risk, no reward.¡± It had been so long since I risked anything with this hat, but the stakes were high enough that I had to try. Suffering side effects to get a boon of use would be worth it. ¡°Xin, you¡¯ve got to keep safe back here.¡±

    ¡°If you go, I¡¯m going. We¡¯re in this together until the end.¡± She held up the wedding ring. ¡°Remember?¡±

    My eyes closed and I contemplated the insanity. We could pull out [Recall] scrolls and go home to [Haven Valley]. Doing so would put us too far away to recover the key left by Michael, which came with a direct cost in the form of AI lives.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said then held up the coin.

    Money didn¡¯t matter. Only advantages to help us get through this were important. I flipped the coin and prayed that a [Blabber Mouth] or [Stream of Consciousness] debuff wouldn¡¯t come out. Being near Xin and displaying every single worry on my mind would turn out terrible. Pessimism was best kept to myself.

    ¡°Ray! Tails!¡± I flipped the coin.

    It spun with an inaudible ring. After three attempts which came down heads, [Mute], [Monochromatic], and [Unfortunate] were all applied. The world shifted to a slightly more black and white setting. My voice stopped working. On the third coin flip, I lost more luck, which impacted critical hits and loot drops. None of that mattered to me.

    I mouthed the words, ¡®Once more¡¯ and flipped the coin upward in hopes that [Unfortunate] wouldn¡¯t slam the fourth try. Hundreds of gold ticked away on a box and my bags lightened slightly. This time, it came down tails.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Buff gained: [Silent Threat]

    Details: You give off no sound. All abilities which require hearing an opponent are mitigated by this ability. [Stealth] type abilities can be activated once every ten seconds while in combat. [Stealth] abilities which have a hide penalty will be reduced accordingly. Aggressive abilities can be used without causing an immediate deactivation of [Stealth].

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The ground near me vibrated rapidly. I looked up to a long line of players charging our way. Xin¡¯s robe showed flashes of red runes. We hadn¡¯t been fighting long and her bone skeleton formations were running low on whatever mythical fuel made them go.

    I grinned happily. The ability itself might be workable. If I understood right, any of my normal actions which broke out of [Camouflage] would still reveal me, but be delayed. An invisible sword could wreck insane levels of havoc.

    One foot stomped down then twisted. The world around me faded then [Blink] went off. My body appeared in the middle of four players but no one noticed. Their eyes were glued on the empty space where I had been.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] ended more lives than ever before that day. Elation rushed through me along with a slow thud in my chest. All this excitement after being hospitalized weeks ago made me nervous. The ARC¡¯s feedback level had been cranked too high.

    But beyond those problems, Xin¡¯s life was in danger. These people attacking us needed to be removed. I kept charging further and further out, chasing down everything that looked remotely violent.

    A voice shouted over the crowd. It carried past all our swords clanking and the sounds of people screaming as ARC feedback told them about mortal wounds. Mechanical arachnid attacks and SheHulk¡¯s thunderous stream of hatred were drowned out by one person.

    ¡°Hermes! The Messenger! It¡¯s a pleasure to finally meet the man who started such a glorious quest for us!¡± the man said in a voice that clearly rang over the battlefield. If felt like we were simply a crowd of people sitting in a conference room while he motivated us. Nam Redrum held his arms wide open as if coming for a gruesome hug.

    I turned. At some point I had gotten further away from Xin than ever expected. She also looked distracted by enemies nearby. Small bone shards fired into spiders that ventured near. [World Eater]s were an actual threat.

    ¡°Hold him down!¡± Nam shouted. Most of the guild who had protected this town were dead. Two of the [Sage¡¯s Guardian]s were going berserk. One lay broken, twitching uncontrollably.

    Someone threw out a powder in my direction. Dodging it was impossible as the substance spread through the air like a net. I tried to [Blink] but the air around me fizzled instead.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Escape Barrier] applied.

    Personal special distortion abilities are [Locked]! Triggering such abilities is impossible until the [Escape Barrier] fades or you travel outside of it.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I took a breath. This was beyond my [Depth] by far. One foot twisted again to activate [Camouflage] but a sword jabbed in my direction rapidly. Without [Blink] to relocate I couldn¡¯t take real advantage of the synergy between abilities.

    Shazam¡¯s training and my own experience weren¡¯t enough to stack against this many player killers. Some of them had been at this for years. It was only offbeat extra abilities given to me by the Voices which kept me competitive. That and experience didn¡¯t make idiots into fighting geniuses.

    Xin¡¯s body twirled. An angry set to her jaw accompanied two bone shards blasting off. The giant skeleton, half broken from fighting, swung weakly to drive other players back. Its attacks barely tapped the encircling players and certainly didn¡¯t deter Nam Redrum¡¯s approach.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    [Blink] unavailable, [Escape Barrier] in effect!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There were six people on me and I couldn¡¯t get around them quickly. Twisting to move failed. We were out in the open and these were people hardened to kill other players. My earlier success must have come from Xin¡¯s backup, small hallways, and being unprepared. I needed better statistics. I needed more skills and perfect reactions. There was simply no time to create new skills with the server crashing around us.

    My breath caught as all the ways I had wasted time once again occured to me. Most thoughts were half formed or self-berating as I waved both weapons back and forth, clanking against the incoming attacks of other Travelers.

    Slightly further away TinkerHell and SheHulk were fighting back to back. The tall blonde had wounds all over and chunks of her hair were outright missing from being pulled, or slashed out.

    I tried to make it out of the forming circle but failed. Xin¡¯s face snapped toward Nam Redrum. The leader of all these player killers marched forward without a care. One single hand batted away bones flying at him as Xin chanted [Lithium] spells.

    This was Commander Queenshand, or StrongArm all over again. Those near to me were going to die. I raged with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and another Traveler died. Two more nearby went down under [World Eater]s. Too many monsters, creatures, and [Sage¡¯s Guardians] were in the way.

    I broke free of those trying to pin me down and started running at high speeds. [Light Body]¡¯s effect carried me forward quicker than normal. Still, all my efforts meant nothing as the large burly man with skulls on his body and swirls of red energy stabbed his sword straight into Xin¡¯s gut.

    A cry of, ¡®Not again¡¯ never made it past my [Muted] lips. I tried to scream in denial again but failed. This goddamned ARC wonderland of heaven and hell could only be considered worthwhile if Xin was with me.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    [Blink] unavailable, [Escape Barrier] in effect!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I ran another five feet then I tried to use the ability again. Envisioning that gut clench of motion that meant my body was being hooked elsewhere. The rejection notice came up again.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    [Blink] unavailable, [Escape Barrier] in effect!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Xin¡¯s fingers twisted upon each other as the white skeleton started to crumple. Its form fought through the breaking, much like mine, to get upright and protect Xin. Bone fingers clawed outward and the large sword in its hand gave way, sending my wife¡¯s summoned construct toppling to one side.

    Everything slowed down even further as [Awareness Heightening] stopped being split between two people. Xin¡¯s face moved slowly as the life bar continued a steady decline. Gone were the system messages and bars on my screen. One hand brushed through them all with a series of soap bubble pops in order to strike an appearing ¡®yes¡¯ button. I silently screamed while accepting summons from Xin''s wedding ring.

    But it was too late. My wife¡¯s health hit zero. The last vision to greet my eyes before a rainbow of colors overwhelmed me was Nam Redrum kicking Xin off his sword with a boot.

    Xin was dead again. The ARC feedback started distorting as my brain lost any semblance of sanity.

 Book 5 - Together; Session Ninety Five â€“ [Lithium] Powered

    I came out of the [Monochrome] rainbow beam with a blind leap and [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] in an overhead slash. Nam Redrum¡¯s blade greeted my center but a high [Reaction] and [Awareness Heightening] kept me from skewering myself upon it. This player killer moved far too quickly for such a surprise attack.

    A dozen [World Eater] spiders were jumping about, looking for easy prey to chew on. I stepped back, dug one foot in and twisted, then bashed a spider with the [Power Armor] covered fist. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] didn¡¯t have enough durability.

    The metal suit spiraled into being as Nam attacked again. Each summon of the armor drained my mana. His movements were as fast, maybe faster than mine. I felt overpowered and struggled to read his body language. The other player leaned into moves like any dancer might. That¡¯s how I managed to survive this fight. Instead of watching my partner for where their body would be and working with them, I simply avoided the strikes.

    ¡°Do you think you can kill me!?¡± Nam Redrum shouted and backhanded my blade. Sparks came off the man¡¯s hand but he showed no signs of being hurt.

    My attacks were clearly too simple. Feints were not a skill of mine. I relied on blunt force and sheer [Brawn], which meant nothing against this player.

    Still, Xin was dead and this man killed her. This was my fault. I should have been there, in front of her, taken the blade that slid into her gut. I should have never let her take that train.

    ¡°Do you think you¡¯re the first Ultimate Edition user I¡¯ve killed?!¡± He laughed with a deeply disturbing tone that only enraged me further.

    Attempts at yelling back were blocked by [Mute]. Everything around me had been discovered by a chaotic looking gray. Shapes moved in the background as SheHulk, TinkerHell, and Awesome¡¯s remaining guild tried to bring the monsters together.

    ¡°Thousands! I¡¯ve easily racked up thousands of kills. Players, NPCs, monsters, you¡¯re nothing compared to the best!¡± He kept on bragging. ¡°Those sissies are afraid to log on now that this event puts consequences to their failures!¡±

    Messages flashed and [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] swung through them toward Nam Redrum. A stream of bubbles popped then sparks flew as I once again collided with his arms. They were clad in red and the skulls adorning his body glowed. Each one looked to be smiling at my failure to deal damage.

    ¡°Pathetic! All the prizes they give you people and still you can¡¯t outweigh simple skill and dedication!¡± His body twisted opposite mine, behind him a trail of red and black shadows flew off. My vision swam and a message popped up telling me that I had been [Disoriented] by a mind attack.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] came up too slowly. His fingers jabbed into my side. They slid in like blades and the asshole even smiled while wiggling them around. I screamed then [Blink]ed to his rear and tried to attack again. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] bounced off Nam¡¯s side while those skeleton heads flared bright red again.

    Both feet planted and without turning the weapon around I brought it back in for a [Hilt Slam] maneuver. The move should have caused him to be [Dazed] but instead, a skull started to fade. Both eyes lit up in hope. This Traveler was weakening, but whatever damage I did had to be tied to the skulls somehow. How exactly eluded me and I felt [Awareness Heightening] starting to fade.

    Nam Redrum swung around with a growl and dove a glowing hand through the air. Red trailed after it like an eagle¡¯s claw on fire. [Blink] was down.

    I fell back and hit [Camouflage]. [Silent Threat] let me fade away despite being in combat and the other Traveler¡¯s eyes grew confused for a moment. One hand reached for the second weapon then imagined both weapons transforming into pikes to skewer Nam Redrum. Both weapons extend rapidly toward his face. The enemy twisted between them and came down with an elbow jutting downward.

    It drove into my gut and caused me to cough up blood. Muscles at my shoulder tore. Messages displayed and a small icon of my body flashed with red. This fight wasn¡¯t going my way.

    I should have trained harder. I should have bought better gear from the Auction House. Shazam would have known more skills to have and perhaps being more aggressive as a [Convict] would have given me more experience.

    My health was dipping. [Power Armor] flickered into place as Nam¡¯s body swiftly twisted to the right to slam me with his other elbow. A crack of flesh on metal caused cackling skulls to flicker again. They pressed against me uncomfortably and it felt like one of them actually nibbled at uncovered flesh.

    Both weapons retracted and I turned my wrists to cut at him. Nam laughed and kneed me in the crotch and I writhed in pain. All my efforts had barely scratched him, and one remaining skull laughed in my direction.

    Pain made it hard to concentrate and [Blink] away. Both weapons shifted weakly to larger blades. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] peeled to reveal a layer of gold, while [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] still sat with the obsidian coloring. Nam balled up both fists and slammed them into my arm causing [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] to drop for the first time in ages.

    I struggled to get a lungful of air then let out three fast fireballs from [Breath of Fire]. Dusk¡¯s body soared somewhere above picking off spiders that got close. I could hear the girls shouting behind me and a large clash of gears.

    Nam¡¯s eyes went wide. His head turned and I jabbed [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] into his exposed gut. My own attack caused the remaining skull to dim completely. It chattered as whatever demonic energy fed the gruesome item faded.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] drew out and I prepared to stab him again. Nam rolled off me to get away. I struggled to both feet then paused as a giant arm spike came out of nowhere and impaled Nam Redrum. Both eyes went wide and my body stumbled backward while the [Sage¡¯s Guardian] lifted him into the air. He tried to cough something out at me. Fingers curled with red energy as he struggled to reach my confused face.

    He gave up and twisted awkwardly to get a view of the creature impaling him. The spider drove two more arms forward while Nam fought off a fourth leg coming from the side. He grabbed ahold of one of the giant limbs and started crushing it with his bear hands. His body¡¯s glow started to fade while the spider¡¯s gears whined to a halt.

    I ran for [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and prepared myself in case Nam Redrum managed to get away. Eventually, both creatures stopped. His jaw hung open. Every other part of his body looked to be gored by the rapid fire attacks of a dying [Sage¡¯s Guardian]. I took a few breaths and checked their health bars with [Identification]. They were deceased. Whatever empowered the [Sage¡¯s Guardian #4] had failed.

    A sound gasp escaped. Xin¡¯s body, there was still time. I ran over then started wildly searching. Voices help me. I couldn¡¯t even tell where Xin had died anymore. Her body was nowhere to be found. Hands scrambled around on the ground. Knees ground into rubble. Dirt lined the floor along with a mixture of blood. Right here is where Xin had perished. I only needed to use [Binding of Hymenaios], and use its [Resurrection] ability for half my health. Triggering the item¡¯s function simply required finding her body then touching our rings together.

    Once I found her anyway, but where was she? Did a [World Eater] get her corpse? Black spiders made of solid smoke still traveled the battlefield. Even now they chewed through buildings and enemy player killers without regard. Our smaller forces were busy pushing them back toward the enemies. Dusk did most of the work.

    I started to wonder if I had suffered a psychotic break. Maybe Xin¡¯s existence had been a dream. There were other noises in the background. Almost a rush of noise like the Voices were all talking at once. It droned on while I tried to understand what they said. My head tilted back and I expected a flash of light from the sky once Mother decided to shut them up.

    Instead, I only heard the faint sound of mechanical laughing. It filled my head as teeth ground together. One hand started to reach for menu options in order to bring up my friends list. Maybe she released to the [Bind] point.

    Her name was online. I stood up and started to run toward the town. My hopeful charge towards the [Bind] point halted. Nam Redrum stood, alive and well, over the body of a dead [Sage¡¯s Guardian]. He kicked it and crushed small [World Eater] spiders.

    I looked, and there was another player in the back casting [Resurrection] spells over and over. Another raider appeared next to the person in the rear, with a flash of green energy. They were all at around half health. Nam¡¯s head looked in my direction. He snarled and squished more enemies.

    With each bug¡¯s death, the skulls on his body started glowing a bit more. Two skulls were already full. A third started to light up as Nam Redrum offed his own team members who were crippled and took down [World Eater] spiders. The final piece of his ability clicked in my head. He charged up skills by killing creatures.

    The person recently resurrected died as a pillar of bone jutted through the air. I felt a daze come over me that wasn¡¯t inspired by any ARC skill being used. Dozens of other gnarled spikes appeared all over the battlefield. Only one player I knew used bone that sun-bleached white.

    My eyes drifted across searching for her instead of worrying about Nam. There, Xin sat hidden behind SheHulk¡¯s giant shield. All three ladies looked ragged. My wife¡¯s health bar sat at one hundred percent.

    Breath sucked in as I realized what must have happened. [Howard¡¯s Phylactery], a ring I had given her because of worry, triggered. Relief washed over me making the pain in my shoulders feel absent. Its ability to restore health upon reaching zero proved to be invaluable. Both eyes closed and I sent out a silent prayer of thanks to the Voices and Shazam.

    Nam apparently felt he was charged up enough. My own health sat at a quarter bar. [Leadership] didn¡¯t regenerate enough. The large skull adorned man gave a battle cry then rushed in my direction. Skeleton bones faded from the people they held.

    I put up both weapons to block the sudden attack. [Barricade] activated and my body resisted giving way.

    ¡°You think you can win?!¡± Nam Redrum shouted in my face. ¡°I¡¯ll just be back, and I¡¯ll see you scrubbed from this event like all the other losers!¡±

    The white pieces were assembling together behind Nam. I nodded then hit [Blink] again. Both weapons went into one hand and changed to simple three foot long bars. I landed and quickly slid them over his neck then pulled.

    Something crunched. He strained to get out. Our [Brawn] levels were almost even. Everything else might be physically the same, our only differences were experience, skills, and items. He had partially charged abilities, and I had [Immovable Object]. My health bar drained while both Morrigu weapons sat locked like iron bars across his neck. I heaved to lift Nam back so that neither foot could find purchase.

    His face bulged. My voice was still [Mute] and I could only hope my intent was clear. Nam¡¯s feet kicked violently in the air and I yanked the bars tighter, strangling him. His health showed no signs of giving out before my arms failed.

    I was willing to trust my wife. She would know what to do next. Her giant skeleton was already formed and stalking this way. By taking us both out and controlling their [Resurrection] caster we would win. The exchange would be simple.

    Sure enough, Xin¡¯s giant white skeleton came up behind us and swung. The ARC visual sent pain through every piece of my body and the world spun. Nam Redrum¡¯s head popped off along with my own.

    A gurgled sound escaped as we both sailed. Wind rushed through my hair and I almost felt like this was a simple hang gliding event. We landed and dirt tore across skin. I hoped his ARC showed him my gloating face as he lost. The darkness overwrote everything else and I was left staring at a message while rubbing my chest.

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    You have died!

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    Part of my brain freaked out. My wife had just killed me without even putting a second thought into. Or maybe she had, I couldn¡¯t tell. She had certainly performed a feat that would be beyond me.

    [Resurrection] came fast. I looked around at the scene before me. Two [Sage¡¯s Guardian]s were deceased. A few dozen [World Eater] spiders roamed the city of [ItRainsTooMuch]. Their bodies seemed distracted in the rain. Some tilted their heads back like they were trying to devour the drops.

    Xin¡¯s body hugged mine before the light fully faded. She looked upset and had plenty of reason. The world had returned to normal color and I felt able to speak.

    ¡°Is he still able to play?¡± I asked with a scratchy voice. The man had led an army that put us through rapid paced hell and we needed to make sure this was over.

    [Sight of Mercari] made me dizzy to use. Awesome stood to one side with two prisoners. One was a [Resurrection] spamming player. The woman next to him looked dizzy and upset. She responded first while sighing. ¡°He only has one strike. No matter what you do, he¡¯ll be back for his tokens.¡±

    No, then if that were the case we would solve this now. Nam Redrum needed to die, but that had to come by the [World Eater]s. Not a gear operated spider, or a brick falling from the sky. Accidental damage and dumb luck, a sacrifice ploy, none of it mattered if this person who relished killing other Travelers was intent upon stalking us.

    And he had been. Clearly the man had some weird fixation upon me.

    ¡°Then you need to resurrect him,¡± I said while eyeing the [World Eater]s. We only needed to arrange a proper death.

    ¡°They can res him, but he probably won¡¯t accept.¡± Awesome stood nearby and looked exhausted. One of his arms dripped blood and the shirt had been torn clean through. ¡°They have people watching over video feeds like we do. We control the field, it¡¯s not safe for him to come back, so why would he?¡±

    ¡°Bring him back.¡± I tried to remain calm while speaking to the enemy group members.

    The man¡¯s head shook in a panic.

    ¡°Do it.¡± Good threats escaped me. These people had to charge down here knowing their virtual bodies might die. The fact that none of them logged out felt weird, but maybe they were playing it safe.

    ¡°Your friend¡¯s right. It¡¯s a waste of time. He won¡¯t resurrect until you¡¯re all gone. Why should he?¡± The man shrugged as if my threats and desires meant nothing. ¡°But whatever, it¡¯s not like any of us give a shit.¡±

    How messed up was this? With the new viewing mechanics, anyone could be watching us online. They could share with their in-game friends what was happening. People could be hunted down. Others had probably fed players to the [World Eater]s just like we did. Execution for past debts and digital sins.

    There had to be a way to end this once and for all. Dusk barfed fireballs at [World Eater]s who ventured too close. Staring at the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] reminded me that there were ways around game mechanics if one had access. I could perform some tricks despite having used all three [NPC Conspiracy] abilities. Especially since this idea would keep Xin safe from a madman who would probably seek revenge.

    How long would it take me to get to the van? A few minutes? Two, in reality, would be eight in-game, give or take a few. The battlefield was under control, SheHulk and TinkerHell were cleaning up monsters and resurrecting their clan members. I pondered my actions while reports of those getting their [Third Strike] came back. Even [Resurrection] skills didn¡¯t save people after they hit number three.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°Herd the World Eaters together!¡± I shouted to the others. Then whispered softly to Xin, ¡°Wait here.¡±

    Logging out washed my senses with home. The air was still and unmoving. My real body felt sluggish. Our rush of combat had come quickly after little sleep. There wasn¡¯t time for more than a restroom, bar, and drink in rapid succession. Dizziness threatened to pull me down with every step.

    Once in the Trillium van, I crossed a moral line. Nam Redrum¡¯s Continue Online account was active. According to my feed, he idled in the player afterlife checking an internet messaging board. While he looked away I used my admin access to auto accept resurrections.

    I logged back in quickly enough to see a stupefied version of Nam Redrum. His skulls were all missing their red glowing inner light. Whatever empowerments he had were gone and we could strike before the man recovered.

    Xin already had him at her mercy. Two skeletons pinned him down with serrated bone blades in both arms. With no chance to build up kills, Mister Redrum had no real power. His two remaining team members, Awesome¡¯s hostages, were staring with confusion and gaping mouths.

    ¡°What? I didn¡¯t accept that!¡± he shouted while twisting in pain. ¡°Hacks! You¡¯ve cheated god dammit! I¡¯m reporting this!¡±

    ¡°Did you cheat?¡± Awesome asked while wrinkling his forehead.

    I shrugged.

    ¡°Just die, you waste of air,¡± Xin said, her pale face snarled. We stood near a few straggler spiders that hadn¡¯t been cleared up. SheHulk and the others were driving them back but not killing. Others were too busy eating corpses of raiders that had dared attack [ItRainsTooMuch].

    Her skeletons joined forces and tipped over the edge with Nam Redrum. He tried to brute force his way out then yelled as a pack of [World Eater] spiders leapt at him. Their little jaws took the offered meal and left Xin and me alone as the player screamed. [Brawn] meant nothing as his body started losing functionality from deletion.

    SheHulk stared without blinking. TinkerHell turned away and looked green. I began to wonder exactly what these girls had been through in real life to let them turn out in such a way. Did the game harden them, or were they willing to draw the line in a different place?

    Xin and I stared as the man writhed in pain. Both eyes blinked while I tried to figure out how I felt about such viciousness. The first two times Nam Redrum had died were in the throes of battle. We could claim self-defense and a chaotic battlefield.

    The third time involved no such lofty stance. We forced him to resurrect then fed his character to [World Eater]s for deletion. I shook with both worry for my moral compass and relief that such a vile player couldn¡¯t bother anyone again. Maybe this would serve as a warning to others. How many more days, or weeks could this virtual world last at this rate?

    Heat struck my chest. I fumbled absently for the [Messenger¡¯s Tube] then uncorked one end. The lack of a wax seal meant this letter had been intended for me.

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    Hermes,,

    Too late you show the resolution to do what must be done. Poor little puppet, if only you had understood sooner, we wouldn¡¯t be in the mess.

    : )

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    The parchment was torn to shreds. Judgment from the Jester, of all Voices, felt disturbing. It wasn¡¯t wrong, but at the same time, I drew my moral line in a different spot than the mask wearing Voice. Besides, the Jester¡¯s original request of me had been to kill Requiem, what good could that have done anyone?

    Dusk landed then started chasing stray spiders. He looked utterly happy until he saw Nam Redrum¡¯s chewed form. The player still hadn¡¯t logged out and nearly half his body had Swiss cheese holes from [World Eater]s. Pain apparently did not deter him from spending the last few moments staring at us with hatred.

    I wondered what that might be like, then shook my head. Our two remaining hostages froze in fear. I gestured to the pile and Awesome proved only too happy to shove them in. None of us liked player killers. They at least could log out instantly, choosing to suffer a quiet deletion rather than whatever hell Nam Redrum stayed in.

    For a moment, I reflected on the irony. We didn¡¯t like people who sought to fight other players, yet here the lot of us sat forcing permanent deletion upon people. How long had Nam Redrum played Continue Online for? A year? Four years? Since release? We had effectively undone years of his life and left him nothing but memories of pain.

    Finally, Nam popped out completely. His suffering form was no longer stable enough to support a real character. I swallowed once as a question occurred to me. With my death, all the player tokens were gone, transferred to Xin.

    ¡°How many Great Cleansing tokens did he have?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t looked at who gave me which ones, but I have over seven thousand now,¡± Xin said dryly. Her head shook with disgust.

    My head joined hers in disapproval. Each token was a player who had suffered. Each one gathered by other player killers during the course of this event. I didn¡¯t feel upset about the action anymore. We had vindicated some of those people who suffered player deaths at these people¡¯s hands. Players who had chosen to be rampaging monsters as the servers went down.

    Xin¡¯s body shook worse than mine. I looked over and saw a forming bruise along with tatters to the robe. One cheek tucked back as I reached to touch the wound. ¡°Did it hurt?¡±

    ¡°Death doesn¡¯t hurt.¡± Her head shook. ¡°Not really. Pain only comes when you¡¯re alive. Trying to survive despite death calling, that hurts. I didn¡¯t have to suffer long.¡±

    I stared at the broken players below and wondered if perhaps it might be possible to resurrect them again to further their suffering, but thought better of it, plus they could log out and avoid the harm. At some point, we had to let these past conflicts go. Nam Redrum thought of this entire world as a game. Too many people did. We didn¡¯t, but neither of us was exactly wrong.

    The town had been in ruins, then demolished, and now it looked like a flattened wasteland. Guts hung everywhere. Dead bodies from Travelers were starting to quickly decay. [World Eater] spiders screeched and died in droves.

    Xin¡¯s hands waved and the skeletons which had impaled Nam Redrum for the spiders started to fade, what few remained anyway. In their place, smaller skeletons were formed. They fought back the [World Eater]s and gave us room to breathe.

    I walked over to the dead [Sage¡¯s Guardian] and tried to figure out what everyone else had been searching for. There didn¡¯t seem to be any player loot. No one else showed happy faces at receiving rare gear.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± I asked while limping forward. Inside the dead [Sage¡¯s Guardian] were a number of loose leaf pages. How had the others missed this?

    ¡°What¡¯s what?¡± Xin asked as I lifted up the pieces of paper. Touching them caused blackened pages to sparkle with gold borders. ¡°Weird, and neat. Where did you see that?¡±

    Everything hurt as I bent over to get more pieces. A small stack of pages joined the first. Small numbers were on the bottom right giving me an order to shuffle through. ¡°They were just lying here,¡± I responded.

    We staggered to a bench. My shoulder leaned heavily upon Xin¡¯s. Xin looked as bad as I felt, which probably meant I looked a mess. She seemed oblivious to what was in my hands. As if her eyes couldn¡¯t parse any words out of the jumbled letters.

    ¡°Can you read them? They look like gibberish to me,¡± Xin finally asked.

    My head bobbed. The handwriting was shaky. I tried to remember the name of those who we sought. William Carver had been one person who held a key, and in this area should be another. Hopefully, the [Sage¡¯s Guardian]s played into it.

    The journal name shown looked familiar but I couldn¡¯t draw a connection yet. This person, M. Shell, liked to interject other lines upon the first. Seeing scrawled notes jammed into the sidelines of his paper both confused me and made for amusement.

    I started reading it aloud while trying to put proper inflection upon the notes.

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    M. Shell¡¯s Journal:

    How can I explain this? The words I wrote are already no longer my own. One sentence later and the script changes to something more flowing and uses different words to convey an inaccurate meaning. This reality¡¯s laws are taking effect in near real time.

    I must admit such a feat is remarkable [I didn¡¯t write this] , and shows how daunting my task is. Imagine that, tampering with a creature so powerful she created a bubble of existence just sideways from our own that actively rewrites what we say. Is this why Locals are never overly upset at our presence?

    [Dammit!] That isn¡¯t a proper explanation. She spun a web? It uses the invisible spider¡¯s web? A bubble around a bubble? [Why does it obfuscate even the simplest attempts to explain?! I would think this knowledge is safe to share at this stage.]

    Take my world¡¯s spider spun webs. [Why spider webs? What nonsensical analogy is this?!] Tilt them sideways. Look between the cracks and form new words in a language we don¡¯t know. There is where she¡¯s hidden this world. All it would take is one single spell to bring it crashing down. And we¡¯re trying to tamper even further. What fools are we to dare alter the very workings a being beyond the scope of sanity? [¡­I wrote this one. We are fools.]

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    ¡°Babe?¡± I broke from reading to see how my wife was doing.

    Xin looked dazed. There were Travelers around picking over dead bodies and counting up loot. A lot dug through the two absolutely brutalized mechanical robots. Our mission of fighting them had ended in

    sheer destruction of the machines.

    Apparently the key had been removing them from their domes where all the enchantments wore woven in or crafted. I still didn¡¯t understand what had happened really. Blowing up the domes probably ruined the encounter which explained why no one else had tried it. The golden goose they had been harvesting for sellable wares had been destroyed.

    ¡°Babe?¡± I asked again while scanning through the remaining pages for anything that stood out.

    ¡°Gee.¡± Xin put a hand up to her head. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m tired. That, took a lot more out of me than expected. Keep reading, please?¡±

    We had both been in a place that was uncomfortable. I looked around a few times and scanned the area. Three of Xin¡¯s skeletons sat around us with weapons at the ready. Dusk leapt through the ruins chasing down fleeing [World Eater] spiders like they were snacks.

    I wrapped an arm around Xin¡¯s side then tried to give her a reassuring rub. She leaned inward but otherwise stared off into the distance. My own thoughts were once again drowned out while I sought wisdom from M. Shell. This had to be Michelle from Carver¡¯s journals, and something in here would hopefully make our recently suffered madness worthwhile.

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    M. Shell¡¯s Journal:

    I digress. I wanted to speak of the fine line between our world¡¯s magic and this one. It¡¯s useful knowledge even in crafting.

    It took hours to pry access out of those two, and a deal with that babbling fool Yates, but it was worth the bribery. As I craft new items it¡¯s possible to manipulate threads of energy into the shape. Laying it out into form is almost like crafting magic in our first world. [Gods dammit!][GODS!?] Not crafting magic, laying patterns! Carving spells! [GODS, can I write nothing that would make sense?! I pity the soul who tries to make heads or tails of this!]

    Never mind. Know this; intent is key. At first, we have to verbalize, move in a certain way and let the spirits [Gods, spirits? Really?] adapt to what is inside our hearts. Intent repeated over and over becomes action. Action repeated over and over becomes a pattern to who we are. It explains why the first few Travelers to arrive start weak in everything then grow. We can use this to alter the spells into a state that isn¡¯t as easy to self-destruct. [Sadly this is almost starting to make sense][I DIDN¡¯T WRITE THAT EITHER! STOP ADDING NOTES!]

    It¡¯s not even her doing this. The world itself is adapting. The false reality. Spider¡¯s webs knotting together. [DAMMIT! LET ME WRITE PLAINLY.] This place is rapidly becoming a reality of its own but is still dependent upon my world¡¯s magic to sustain itself.

    If the issue is how a spell in our world might hunt down this frail spider¡¯s web, then we need only change the silk it¡¯s made from. The others agree, but can we complete the task in time?

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    The final piece of paper looked to be scrawled in a much hastier writing. I looked around again. The other Travelers were gathering further away toward the center of town.

    Xin¡¯s body hung limply next to me. She didn¡¯t show any signs of improving despite the healing spells which were cast earlier.

    ¡°Maybe you should log out, or go back to [Haven Valley] with a scroll?¡± I suggested to her.

    ¡°No,¡± she said simply. ¡°Keep reading, please.¡± Fingers wove in between mine and the dulled rainbows in our rings glinted.

    I took a breath. She couldn¡¯t leave me any more than I could abandon her. We were stuck together until the end. Both eyes threatened to water and I struggled to right myself. Smells of burning bugs were pushed out.

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    M. Shell¡¯s Journal:

    To whoever finds this journal, know that I, M. Shell, the greatest crafter to walk this world [HOW CONCEITED DO YOU THINK I AM!?] until the arrival of all other Travelers, am most likely dead. You may ask how, but if you can read this message for what it is, you likely already know part of the reason. Worse still, this note should only display when certain conditions are present in the world abroad.

    I and a few like-minded people have tried to create contingencies in case all of reality is threatened. There¡¯s no way to know which ones will come to fruition. I do so hope it¡¯s not too late, and that one of these methods works.

    The mental projection artifact in my home has been heavily modified and what protection Travelers are normally afforded has been removed. This was done to allow me to perform magics dangerous but needed. For the cause that you too are part of, else you could not see these papers. Our deeply laid spells have already started to affect you.[I give up on trying to write sane words]

    Ironic that my love for this world and its existence is what will kill me in the end. Was that the intent? Did she choose me, Carver, or Yates because of what we might do?

    You who follow in my footsteps, take heed of the price for loving a land not your own. Think heavily on the line between safety and savior. Ye god of my world[Look, now I¡¯m writing this nonsense by choice], Yates forever spouts his poetry, but at some point, it¡¯s fitting despite my distaste for the man. Know that these things you set your heart upon. Sooner or later must the soul destroy!

    Should you already have made up your mind, seek Yates and Carver. [Or just Yates if you risk his insanity. Carver¡¯s already paid a heavy price in our testing and I know not how much is left of the man.]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Over here!¡± TockDoc yelled in my direction. ¡°That door is open!¡±

    Dwight had survived the mess somehow and was waving clanking metal arms to shush the man with giant rubber boots. My wife and I looked at each other. One eyebrow went up which caused Xin to shrug. We slowly stood up then hobbled over.

 Book 5 - Together; Session Ninety Six â€“ The Crown of Laurels

    Travelers and autopilots pushed objects to the side allowing us room to get back into the deep pit. Awesome and company marched ahead of my wife and I. I wasn''t awake enough to notice much more than their general shapes.

    The ARC connection stuttered occasionally from strain. Eventually, I would pass out entirely then probably wake up far too late for the grand reveal. Every breath as we plodded along brought me closer to exhaustion. [Breathing] in-game went up in small ticks with each lung full of digital air I managed to power through.

    ¡°Come on.¡± TockDoc waved us forward. ¡°The door¡¯s open still, but I¡¯m not sure how long it stays open.¡±

    I had a hard time focusing on him. Pulling an all-nighter had worked out for the mission at hand, but we were close to eleven in the morning and I hadn¡¯t gotten more than an hours¡¯ rest.

    ¡°We¡¯re going also. There¡¯s no way we¡¯re going to not see what this is,¡± Awesome shouted across the city ruins while running. His eyes were bright despite the tattered clothes. One of his legs limped along and I could only wonder what sort of debuffs plagued the man¡¯s character.

    My version of [Inspection] didn¡¯t tell me a lot about other people besides a name and health total. Maybe investing in a medical skill like SheHulk had would have been helpful. There were so many little abilities that amounted to eye candy in this game. Special effects, ones which increased debilitations, minor bonuses to performance under certain conditions.

    I got one months ago called [Battle Hum] that gave me extra [Coordination] as long as the song being hummed had rhythm. Xin probably had one called [Alluring] that increased attractiveness the more clothes I got off of her. A snort of amusement escaped me.

    Being tired made half my thoughts incomplete and the others refused to line up properly. I stared briefly at SheHulk and TinkerHell and wondered how they got together, much less hooked up with Awesome.

    Xin¡¯s fingers dug into an arm and suggested that maybe I was looking a bit too closely.

    ¡°All these years working for Trillium and there¡¯s still so much about this game I don¡¯t know,¡± the guild leader muttered to himself.

    The change of pace brought other questions to mind. I asked Awesome in a rush of words, ¡°Did you know Michelle? Or whoever Carver was? Maybe Yates?¡±

    ¡°I met David once. Carver. He was the man in charge of the first ARC project. That was around six years ago when I first became a manager in marketing. He needed someone on board to test the game early. That¡¯s how I got into the beta.¡± Awesome looked bashful for a moment. The action reminded me of his son, who often wore the same vaguely embarrassed expression.

    The corridor went on well past what I could see. SheHulk took the lead with her battered shield at the ready. Most people stayed up top in case more player killers, or [World Eater]s existed. Some apparently had headed out to check the two [Sage¡¯s Guardian]s that had not escaped their domes.

    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see what¡¯s down here.¡± TockDoc rubbed his hands together and grinned widely. A glow started appearing as his hands lit up with faint green. We could finally see better. Burned out wiring lined the walls. Not even a small spark of electricity remained.

    ¡°What are those?¡± I asked while pointing at the gloves. They were more interesting than repetitive scenery. This wrecked wiring went on for miles.

    ¡°Kinetically activated glow in the dark mittens,¡± TockDoc said proudly as we walked. ¡°Rub them together, and friction creates light!¡±

    ¡°These puppies were one of the town¡¯s export goods.¡± Dwight waved at TockDoc¡¯s hands while smiling. ¡°We were so close to striking it rich with our patents.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t patent in this game,¡± TinkerHell stated.

    ¡°You can, or close enough to make money. First of a kind gives rewards, and NPCs eat new goodies up like candy.¡± Dwight rubbed his own hands together causing a second glow.

    Dwight had a set on as well. Under their glow, we could see his reduced amount of armor. Nearly half the clanking metal had vanished. What remained looked battered. Straps with frayed edges hung in weird locations and holes had been chewed through his chest piece.

    ¡°Or we could use real torches.¡± Awesome pointed ahead. ¡°Anyone got a match?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± I said while heading towards the torch. Xin and I essentially held each other up across the room. SheHulk squinted against the darkness. Part of her shield glowed with an extremely soft light that hadn¡¯t been present last time we went cave crawling together.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother. Nothing stays dry out here.¡± Dwight brushed by and grabbed the torch out of my hands then shook it. ¡°That¡¯s why we invented the gloves.¡±

    TockDoc grumbled, ¡°You mean, why I invented them.¡±

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t have invented them without us,¡± the formerly armored man protested. His eyes looked even more bugged out than TockDoc¡¯s in the fading light.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t have survived out here without me pulling everyone together.¡±

    ¡°Dwight,¡± Xin called to the annoying man.

    ¡°What?¡± Confusion wrinkled his brow.

    ¡°I¡¯ve killed seventeen people today,¡± my wife spoke with a frighteningly flat tone. ¡°Don¡¯t make it eighteen.¡±

    The look of him losing all color made me want to clap. Instead, I squeezed Xin¡¯s hand briefly. His sputtering response was distraction enough to recover the unlit torch. SheHulk outright laughed while TinkerHell looked mildly embarrassed at her friend¡¯s behavior.

    ¡°I love this bitch,¡± SheHulk said while bobbing her head. She tried to imitate my wife¡¯s lighter tone of voice. ¡°Don¡¯t make it eighteen.¡±

    Xin said nothing but clung onto my free arm. I checked her health bar again for signs of damage then reviewed the clothing for holes. It didn¡¯t look like any [World Eater]s had successfully damaged her digital body.

    ¡°Hold on.¡± I lifted the unlit torches upwards towards my mouth then very carefully used [Breath of Flame]. Heat crawled up my neck then splattered onto the torch''s top.

    Bright light flooded the room. A sea of shrinking eyes greeted me. Notices went off about [Wilderness Survival] skills and many others increasing the torchlight''s radius. After they got over the shock of intense illumination, we all started looking around. ¡°God. I thought I saw you do that while we were fighting. It makes your neck look so fucking gross,¡± SheHulk commented while glancing over her shoulder. Her body shuddered as armor scraped against itself.

    I knew Xin was tired because she stirred a little but didn¡¯t get upset. Honestly, I agreed with Elane. Spitting up a ball of fire then walking around with it warming my hand felt disturbingly like holding phlegm.

    At least the time it went directly onto the torch.

    Ahead was a doorway which reminded me of the one above, just before the [Sage¡¯s Guardian #4]. I glanced at the others and shrugged.

    Dwight ran first. His form disappeared around the corner the clattering of armor could be heard as he jumped downward. We waited for the sound of monsters but only heard, ¡°God dammit!¡±

    A ringing noise hung in the air, followed by a crack and shuddering wall as someone went flying. Exposed wiring swung in the torchlight as vibrations settled. Dwight¡¯s groans could be heard after each large crash. The same exchange of sounds repeated three times.

    ¡°I¡¯ll, wait out here,¡± TockDoc said abruptly. ¡°I¡¯m not good with fighting.¡±

    Awesome nodded to the townsman then motioned Elane ahead with two fingers. We stepped forward with the short Hispanic woman leading us. She held up the mace and prepared to smash any obstacle which might present itself.

    I tried to ready [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] but my grip felt weak. Fighting Nam Redrum had taken a lot of out me, twice. Thinking about our hectic fight after all those other raiders caused a shudder to pass through.

    Our doorway opened into another wide dome area. No monsters stood in the center below. Instead, there were rounded stairs leading up to a brightly lit throne. The ornate chair was made of thick black wiring and looked terribly uncomfortable.

    A man stood in the brightened air. All around his feet were hats of every size and shape. Dwight¡¯s stumbling form kicked a mess of headpieces around just before the other man flicked a coin in his direction.

    The idiot''s body went flying backward into a wall once more. We stood on the floor above, looking at the scene with equality stupefied expressions. Every time Dwight drew closer, the man amid a sea of hats flipped another rapidly spinning coin. Each casually spiraling piece of metal sent the player backward.

    Everyone else slowly descended the ladder, while I held Xin and [Blink]ed closer. The man flipping coins was an old friend of mine. Or close enough for me to feel secure in his presence.

    ¡°Damn. This hat doesn¡¯t fit either,¡± the man within a pile of hats said.

    There were at least fifteen stacked atop his head like a leaning tower. A golden band sat in one hand and glittered as the ball of flame hit it.

    ¡°Who the fuck is that?¡± SheHulk demanded as she stomped up. I waved a hand to stop her from approaching. ¡°Is that a boss? Is that the Sage? Why can¡¯t I identify it?¡±

    ¡°Calm down, girl,¡± TinkerHell said.

    ¡°That¡¯s because he¡¯s a Voice,¡± I said while staring at the man.

    He looked tired and ragged. The formerly gritty half-shaven look had devolved into uneven patches. Both of Ray¡¯s eyes hung with bags. His state looked worse the longer I stared at him.

    ¡°Are you okay, Ray?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Hermes.¡± He tipped his head then two hats slipped off. He looked at the ground with both lips curled down and was close to tears. Eventually, the man shook his head and held up a ring of gold. ¡°Do you see this Hermes? It¡¯s shaped even more oddly than your Gift. Of this world, and not.¡±

    ¡°Ray, should you be here?¡± I tried to focus. The last time a Voice had been present, outside my wedding, was slightly before a [World Eater] popped out and destroyed pieces of the landscape.

    ¡°I flipped a coin,¡± he said dryly. ¡°Twice.¡±

    I nodded as if that made all the difference. Perhaps it did. Ray was the Voice of Gambling. He honored his bets even if the outcome displeased him. An endless string of hats sitting upon the Voice¡¯s head made me worried, though.

    ¡°Is that what we need?¡± Awesome whispered to me. I assumed the golden circle in his hands was to be our prize but didn¡¯t know for sure. The torch was held up and I scanned the room while Dwight charged by again.

    This time, he managed to stay on his feet and avoid being pushed back. Blood dripped from his face which he tried to wipe away with metal. Another coin hit the man¡¯s exposed belly and sent him tumbling backward again.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing else in here but that throne, the skeleton, and Ray,¡± I didn¡¯t bother whispering. ¡°That¡¯s got to be what we need for the event.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the expert on Voices,¡± Awesome said. ¡°Any suggestions on getting that from him?¡±

    ¡°We could hit him.¡± SheHulk offered an option while thumping her shield.

    One eyebrow lowered while I tried to figure out what was wrong with SheHulk. She sounded worse than HotPants. Maybe the two of them would get along well. The image of them both screaming obscenities while charging into an enemy hoard chilled my bones.

    ¡°Or gamble,¡± I said firmly. ¡°Ray¡¯s a Voice of Gambling.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll bet you anything!¡± Dwight yelled quickly. ¡°Name your price!¡± The clanking man ended up colliding with a wall again after Ray flipped a coin.

    We all watched as Dwight groaned. I looked around the room and tried to consider something more suitable. It dawned upon me that Ray might be missing his hat. [Wild Bill] sat calmly on my own head. I lifted it off and held it out toward the Voice.

    ¡°I would bet you this hat,¡± I said. ¡°Those others don¡¯t seem right for you anyway.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll wager my old hat against this one?¡± Ray looked across and kept a good poker face. Only a slight lilt to his voice and his slow swallow gave away how desperately he wanted [Wild Bill].

    I nodded.

    ¡°You chose the wager, so I¡¯ll choose the game.¡± Ray pulled one of the many hats and waved its pocket over an outstretched palm. A single coin appeared which he proceeded to play across his knuckles. ¡°Coin flipping is what started this, flipping another coin should be fair.¡±

    My mind rapidly went through the numbers. Ray¡¯s mark had faded off so universal bad luck no longer applied. I needed an edge but only knew of one way.

    ¡°Hey beautiful,¡± I whispered quietly to my wife. ¡°How about a kiss for luck?¡±

    Xin¡¯s mood had been in a funk ever since our fight with Nam Redrum. She gave me a nearly passive peck on the cheeks that failed to do anything for me or trigger a system message.

    One hand slid along Xin¡¯s chin and lifted her face upward. Her eyes held staring at mine. They were unwavering and still as if heavy thoughts sat locked in a cage. Foolish me, we hadn¡¯t talked at all about what happened earlier.

    My voice stayed low as I leaned forward to speak softly in her ear, ¡°It¡¯s okay, babe. I¡¯m alive, but if you¡¯re really worried then kiss me like you mean it.¡±

    She loosened a little as we touched our lips together. Both her arms reached around my neck I closed both eyes to blot out everything but her. The weight of Xin¡¯s body against mine, her dress served as a negligible barrier to heat between us. A tiny tongue slipped out and licked my lips and I nearly forgot about the wager altogether.

    ¡°Really?¡± SheHulk said. ¡°Can¡¯t you two get a room?¡±

    ¡°No, we¡¯re married, so it¡¯s a honeymoon suite,¡± I said. Xin laughed a little before returning to her sleepy stance. The sight made me a sad but hopefully we, as a couple, were okay. Maybe she was upset over the deaths, or over our odd exchange of dying.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [A Kiss For Luck] buff gained!

    Seemingly random events are more likely to work in your favor until the next quest is completed or twenty-four hours has elapsed.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°It¡¯s not cheating right?¡± I asked Ray.

    ¡°A kiss from a pretty girl is never cheating, Hermes. Not in my book.¡± He smiled and for a moment the suave calm version of Ray I had first met surfaced. ¡°Ready?¡±

    I nodded.

    He passed one hand over the other and a coin appeared. Ray flipped the coin up. It hummed briefly and I stared as it fell. He caught it then slammed it down on his other hand.

    ¡°Call?¡± he questioned.

    I shook back and forth while humming. ¡°Heads?¡±

    Ray lifted the hand away and his lips tightened briefly. A grudging nod escaped and he lifted the golden loop in my direction.

    I took it and stared down. The hoop was big enough to fit over my head, but not all the way.

    ¡°That¡¯s ours!¡± Dwight stood up and footsteps slammed through as he charged toward the golden circlet. ¡°We guarded this place for months, we figured out how to hook it all up!¡±

    A gong sound rippled through. I looked up in time to see stars appear over Dwight¡¯s head as the man stood there looking stupefied.

    ¡°God I love this skill,¡± SheHulk remarked.

    Dwight opened his mouth as his stun wore off but the short Hispanic woman slammed her shield into him again. More stars appeared then finally he fainted in our direction. I wanted to cheer.

    Xin¡¯s eyes drifted down for a moment and she stared at the fallen player. She reached out with a bare foot and toed the man¡¯s shoulder. A snore erupted which made my wife roll both eyes.

    ¡°We got it.¡± I nodded. Awesome approached closer to look at the circlet. His lips pursed together in a half frown.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You may want to go for double or nothing,¡± Ray stated. His face lit up with a sly grin.

    ¡°Oh?¡± I looked over with a raised eyebrow. ¡°What are you betting now?¡± Having both items was pointless to me. There was no way normal players could wear a dozen hats like Ray did. Handing back [Wild Bill] felt like the right thing to do.

    ¡°The key you came for.¡± Ray held up a large golden key that I hadn¡¯t seen before.

    ¡°What?¡± I stared at the round circlet in my hand. [Identification] showed me what the item actually was.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Skill Used: [Identification]

    Results: [Mechanical Hades Crown]

    Current Essence: 121

    Details: This headpiece was crafted by the greatest smith to ever live on [Arcadia] and represents the second greatest work he has completed. People wearing this helm have a chance to spread the legend of M. Shell to people across all the realms.

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Every departing soul may choose to gift the helm¡¯s bearer with their essence. This can be used to [Empower] abilities beyond their normal range. However, each [Empowerment] will use a proportionate amount of essence.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>In addition, it can be used to manipulate bodies who are currently missing their souls. Stronger bodies will require more essence and have a chance to resist.</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Will transform with other armor pieces and provide a unique look.</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I shuddered at the implications. This item sounded like a player killer''s wet dream. If I read the text right, I might be able to treat autopilot players like puppets. The idea revolted me but might be useful as we approached an end game.

    The text did not say key anywhere. I nodded while staring at the other object in Ray¡¯s upheld hand. There were two items down here, but Ray must have hidden the other one until he needed it.

    ¡°You would really risk not turning the key over to someone who can use it?¡± I asked.

    My mind raced. An AI, because however fancy Ray was he still existed only in the digital world, held the key to the salvation of his people. Due to how he was designed or raised, he wouldn¡¯t, or couldn¡¯t let it go without the gamble. The Voices may be friendly but they were not altruists, not in the slightest.

    He shrugged. ¡°Life¡¯s a gamble. You should know that. Every time you swing that blade you take a risk, and hope that your skill is greater than the enemies.¡±

    ¡°Do you mind if I verify it¡¯s the right item this time?¡± I asked.

    Ray nodded and another hat tumbled off. His face twisted and one foot kicked at the fallen accessory. I approached, afraid that he may flick a coin in my direction, but Ray eventually calmed down then held out the thick key.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Skill Used: [Identification]

    Results: [Altered Matrix] [Key]

    Details: This key has been crafted by a Grand Master of Smithing and Enchantment. At its heart lay materials unseen in the world of [Arcadia]. No one knows what may happen if this key is inserted into the proper lock.

    Once per day this key can open any lock, magical or mundane.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Damn,¡± I said with unfelt calmness. We had been that close to solving this simply. My lip hurt from where teeth dug into flesh. Finally, I nodded.

    Ray smiled, then brought out a second coin. He flipped it into the air. It hummed and I once again shook my head back and forth.

    ¡°Call?¡± Ray asked.

    My eyebrows went up as I gave in. ¡°Heads.¡±

    He lifted away his hand and once again scowled. The coin indeed matched my wild guess. Ray¡¯s hand snaked out and grabbed the edge of my crown. He shoved one coin into it and the material melted while he gave off a disgruntled look. My [Mechanical Hades Crown] vibrated even more intensely as he shoved the second coin onto its rim.

    Finally, he let out a breath of air and stepped back. The crown in my hands glowed with a fading light. I studied the small lumps of metal he had attached to the ring. Both melted into small leaves making it look like a truly roman, or greek, head adornment.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Mechnical Hades Crown]:

    <ul>

    <li>With enough essence, it is possible to use [Empowerment] upon another item. Travelers and Locals are unable to be increased so. This gift must be used on an item, or living creature.</li>

    </ul>

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I didn¡¯t know how to use that new ability yet. Nor was I sure how it qualified as double or nothing. Maybe he valued the key and this gift as equal to [Wild Bill], or maybe he hated the coins that much. Still, it was neat and I got the key I wanted.

    Now I had both hats, and the [Altered Matrix] key. A shuddering sigh passed through me. We were one step closer to making everything easier for Xin and the other AIs. Dozens of people could be saved, hundreds, or their data. I didn¡¯t know exactly how it all measured out but simply knowing I had reached this stage felt great.

    The realization took a moment to sink in past my sleepy brain. Tension unknotted in my back. Standing straighter became easier. The weight on my chest loosened. And all those improvements happened to me, Ray looked that much worse.

    I held up [Wild Bill] again toward the Voice. Gifting him would never work, not with his nature, but another wager might.

    ¡°Third time¡¯s a charm?¡± I offered Ray. He desperately wanted the hat back but had to abide by his own nature. Dealing with him was no different than James and his endless questions, or Mezo¡¯s lust.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have anything else to wager,¡± the Voice said.

    ¡°Wild Bill against your, tie.¡± I picked something completely random and hoped, this time, he would win. Ray looked downright depressed after failing a second time. Maybe he had been aiming to use this opportunity to exchange for [Wild Bill] all along.

    I used [Wild Bill] over my own palm and generated a coin. Ray snorted in defeat and shrugged. I took that as a go-ahead noise then flipped my coin with a less smooth motion. Hermes as a character had enough [Coordination] to grab the falling coin and slap it onto my wrist.

    ¡°Call?¡± I asked. Ray¡¯s head lifted then he narrowed both eyes. My head shook then one eyebrow rose. ¡°Long odds say its heads again. The smart bet is on tails.¡±

    I hoped he won, whatever choice the Voice picked.

    ¡°Third time¡¯s a charm,¡± he said with a composed face. ¡°Heads?¡±

    My hand lifted and a smile pulled my cheeks back. Heads it was, for a third time. Three coin flips in a row had given me the hat. It felt appropriate to pass [Wild Bill] back for the same reason.

    ¡°Heads it is.¡± I nodded then handed over [Wild Bill]. My scalp felt chilly without the wide brim. Most of the time I forgot the item, and all my others, were even equipped, but part of me missed [Wild Bill] already.

    "Come to papa," Ray said. The hat went onto his head and visible stress dripped away. Bags under both eyes slowly vanished as stubble got under control. His face looked sharper. One of the man''s hands started flipping the coin in quick tightly controlled spins. Each time it came up heads. ¡°Thanks for keeping her warm for me.¡±

    I nodded, but still felt too tired for much more.

    ¡°Good luck, Hermes,¡± Ray tipped his hat then vanished in a shaft of glittering coins.

    Dwight crawled up weakly, having recovered from unconsciousness at some point. Fingers grasped after fallen coins. They faded rapidly into nothing. The desperate Traveler groaned.

    The fact that [Wild Bill] was a girl in Ray¡¯s mind bothered me. [Mechnical Hades Crown] disturbed me too, but I put it on then turned around to see a row of confused players. Awesome, TinkerHell, TockDoc, and even SheHulk wore the same slack-jawed expression. Their gear shone with fresh life and no longer resembled a torn motley collection.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you just talk to the god of luck like it¡¯s nothing,¡± TockDoc said.

    ¡°Ultimate Edition?¡± I winced and tried to pretend the situation wasn¡¯t that impressive.

    ¡°God, look at you. You¡¯re,¡± SheHulk sputtered then shook her head. ¡°You know what, I give up. It¡¯s been a long day and I have casework to solve. Fuck this.¡± Then her autopilot kicked in again.

    TickerHell looked at her friend¡¯s autopilot then pulled a cheek back while shaking her head. The tall blonde looked at Xin then said only, ¡°You¡¯re a lucky woman.¡± Before logging off as well.

    Awesome stood in the silence for a minute then ventured a question. ¡°Do you have a way back to Haven Valley? I know my son¡¯s got those portals or whatever. Maybe we can find a close one.¡±

    Xin¡¯s chest heaved slowly as she brushed off a funk. ¡°We do,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got scrolls.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t summon each other for half a day,¡± I reminded her. We had burned the summon during our fight with Nam Redrum.

    ¡°I can give you the scroll then?¡± Xin suggested, showing more animation than before.

    ¡°I¡¯m bound to West Wall, remember?¡± I said.

    ¡°Then maybe we should try your new item. Ray did something with it right?¡±

    I blinked a few times then nodded. We ran upstairs to find a content Dusk sitting on a pile of dead [World Eater] bugs which hadn¡¯t disappeared. In between their defeated smokey forms were other little critters of all sizes.

    ¡°Let''s see.¡± I stared at Dusk and tried to imagine him growing more powerful. Most abilities were activated inside the ARC through visualization and I was too tired to trigger anything on the first few attempts.

    I took off the crown and moved my fingers around its surface. Both thumbs squished the leaves as if pressing a console button. That, or the violent shaking which followed, caused my new helmet to glow gold briefly before small gray lights flew out and swam through the air toward Dusk.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] looked up just before they whole lot of them dove into his body. He stood trying to see his chest while a dull glow emitted from under his scales. Dusk started to grow in size and I backed up slowly. Xin showed no such fear and stared in awe.

    ¡°Awesome,¡± Awesome said.

    ¡°That¡¯s you,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Neat,¡± Xin said.

    I took one long blink to make sure exhaustion hadn¡¯t caused me to start hallucinating. Awed tones from other Travelers nearby let me know that his huge form was no dream. Xin refused to back up even as Dusk moved around.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had become larger than an elephant. His wings stretched over a huge portion of the landscape, nearly hitting people as he twirled around. Gold flakes flashed through in larger patches. Dusk grumbled while turning the huge body around in circles. His neck kept trying to snap at a brand new saddle which was strapped around his chest and rear legs.

    ¡°That¡¯s new,¡± Xin said absently and after a few moments, both eyes went wide as a second wind lifted her spirits. ¡°No, wait! Dragon ride! We¡¯re going on a dragon ride! Right now!¡±

    People around us were mumbling while Xin dragged me forward. My feet dug in slightly as the immensity of my friend caught up. His eyes looked much more memorizing now that they weren¡¯t as tiny.

    She started pulling me toward Dusk. The large version of my friend turned his head with a deep grumble.

    ¡°Cupcakes!¡± I shouted at him while pointing a finger. ¡°No eating us, or no more cupcakes!¡±

    A long red tongue hung out. He took deep panting breaths. His huge dripping maw looked both adorable and terrifying. He yawned and giant teeth snapped together. Memories of dead [Coo-Coo Rill]s flashed across my mind. The only factor holding back Dusk from world domination had been size, and for at least an hour that no longer applied. Dusk could easily snap us all in two if he went crazy.

    Xin was already climbing up. Danger never stopped her from new adventures, and riding on a pseudo dragon¡¯s back certainly qualified as new. She got into position and I followed with a careful [Blink].

    ¡°We¡¯ll meet you in town!¡± Awesome yelled from below.

    Dusk¡¯s head tilted over toward the mechanical spiders coming from above. His body purred and I felt him tense.

    ¡°Haven Valley!¡± I had no clue if he could hear me. Dusk occasionally got distracted. ¡°Ignore the spiders!¡±

    ¡°Giddyup!¡± Xin yelled then kicked her dainty feet into his sides. Dusk¡¯s head perked and he turned back to us with a confused blink. She yelled again while I prepared to dismiss Dusk if needed.

    His head tilted and a question mark appeared.

    ¡°Haven Valley, we¡¯ve got to turn in this key.¡± I took a deep breath and longed for the smaller version of Dusk. He used to be so cute and now the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was a huge monstrosity. ¡°One really big cupcake, okay?¡±

    He grinned and a happy face appeared. Dusk¡¯s large head swiveled forward as enlarged muscles started bunching together.

    My stomach compacted as the bumpiest horse in the world ran forward. Wings shot out wide and air buffeted against us. Xin¡¯s excited scream lit up the air and I clenched both hands tightly to the small post in front of us.

    I tried to imagine this as a giant [Caliburr] but failed. Wind buffeted my face. What little food I had eaten in game threatened to unleash itself across the sky. Dusk was nothing like a mild-mannered rabbit horse. He flew, was carnivorous, and apparently accepted cupcakes as bribes for everything.

    ¡°Look!¡± Xin nudged my arm with her chin then directed my vision to the side.

    The world rapidly shrunk below. An ocean and rainstorm approached on one side. Forestry all around sat serenely as a thick ray of sunshine lit up the terrain. Xin nudged me again then looked forward. A rainbow, much like the one on our rings displayed ahead.

    It was official. Seeing the world from the back of a giant [Messenger¡¯s Pet] with my wife riding along in front of me had to be the most awesome event in my life.

    We both screamed as Dusk surged higher.

    Hours later our autopilots were left along on Dusk¡¯s back while we both logged off. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] moved quickly and I desperately needed real sleep. Xin also looked like she needed down time.

    I took care of basic necessities around the house. Every few steps my eyes closed and dared not to open again until gravity brought me into a wall or door jam. Eventually, I got myself under control and staggered back to the bedroom.

    Quietly, my ARC displayed an incoming virtual room request. Dizziness pulled at my head and I desperately wanted to do nothing more than ignore the message and crash into the bed portion while oblivion claimed me.

    Ignoring the flashing notice would be bad, however. Trillium headquarters was attempting to establish a virtual connection. That meant someone over there expected me to log into the ARC, step into my Atrium and join what amounted to a chatroom.

    My head shook then I slapped both cheeks twice. The effort stung but brought no more awareness. This conversation had been expected a month ago after Miz Riley died. My list of employment sins sat a mile long and being talked to by management had always been a possibility.

    ¡°Mister Legate.¡± A man sitting at the table¡¯s head gestured to one of the open seats. Not everyone sat in attendance, or maybe virtual reality simply supplied a ton of chairs.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for the delay,¡± I said. There was no use explaining to this crowd of well-dressed people that I was too tired to connect properly.

    I sat down and waited for the Atrium to tell me who was talking. After a moment, a small display appeared identifying him as President Leon, the head of Trillium Inc.

    ¡°How can I help you, sir?¡± I hesitated for a moment but fell back upon customer service tactics. Politeness and confidence were the only ways to survive this encounter.

    ¡°We¡¯ve never met before today, so I¡¯ll tell you now, I value directness in my employees, and am blunt in return-¡± he paused and I nodded to show agreement, ¡°-very well. You may not be aware, but four employees of Trillium are dead, resulting from the, project you¡¯re involved in.¡± The man sighed then banged his hand down twice upon the virtual table.

    ¡°Probably more, but four that we know of.¡±

    A seat to the man¡¯s right sat empty. I stared at it for a moment and the ARC program told me that seat should have been for the Vice President.

    Miz Riley and two other deaths I knew about. The fourth I did not.

    ¡°Despite strong opinions to the contrary, I do not blame you for any of this. We¡¯ve done nothing but review your file and video feeds from this event for a month and I see no maliciousness in you that is not rampant in others.¡± Leon reached across the table and tapped on a display. The motion caused his avatar no strain, but in real life, he might have groaned.

    An image displayed of Nam Redrum. Long thick black hair framed his face. Skulls were woven into clothes while his thick chest remained bare. I didn¡¯t remember all those details due to the hectic battle, but looking at his character name made me feel sick.

    ¡°The man for instance that you fought this morning is Elijah King,¡± Trillium¡¯s president said.

    I tried to form words but the thoughts were slow in coming. My ARC avatar paused for a moment to resync as the President kept talking.

    ¡°Elijah is a highly respected motivational speaker, who apparently murders people in a video game with great enthusiasm, or he did until you caused his character to be deleted.¡± The President paused and stared off for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He shook his head while both eyes popped briefly. ¡°This is not public knowledge, but I¡¯ve also been information you already have access to this data, somehow.¡±

    ¡°Because those AIs gave it to him,¡± another man muttered.

    My face drained of color as the commentary registered. They knew about my [NPC Conspiracy] usage somehow. I tried to figure out this other person¡¯s name but no display came up quick enough. He spoke in firmer tones gave me the impression of haughty attitude but was much older than other board members.

    ¡°Surprised you there, didn¡¯t we? Too bad as the system shuts down and this,¡± he waved at stacks of papers while frowning, ¡°event, moves forward, it becomes easier to understand the data which is left.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know anything for sure,¡± a woman said. She reminded me of Nona but wasn¡¯t blonde. Two ornate sticks were pinning up her hair. According to the ARC display, her name was Lenore.

    ¡°Please, not all of us are so stupid. The feeds are there, people talk.¡± The power suit man poked at our table with his forefinger. ¡°It¡¯s recorded online and new stations pick it up. Even with our legal department restraining the media and internet, we¡¯re behind this thing.¡±

    The President smashed his hand down on the table while wincing. ¡°That is not the purpose of our meeting with Mister Legate,¡± he said.

    ¡°Then what is?¡± I asked, finally finding my voice. ¡°If you know all this, or suspect it, then what are we here for? Did you want to tell me I need to stop? To stop before it gets worse?¡± My eyes scanned the crowd of people. Many wore expressions of conflicting desires. This group of company leaders being conflicted actually gave me comfort. ¡°I think it¡¯s too late for me to stop, and I don¡¯t want to.¡±

    ¡°Because of your wife,¡± the President stated.

    I nodded slowly but said nothing.

    ¡°As if that isn¡¯t a PR nightmare in the works,¡± a very thin man said. His name was Michael Uldum. ¡°Legal still can¡¯t figure out how to handle it.¡±

    I tried to figure out if he was related to Henry, but the people were talking too fast. My sleepy mind could barely keep up with the current conversation, let alone move fast enough to figure out people¡¯s relationships.

    ¡°You read Mister Stone¡¯s papers, how do we fight that?¡± Lenore shook her head.

    ¡°Mister Stone has been working on his case for well over a year. We¡¯ll tear it down eventually,¡± the man in a suit said. His name finally displayed as Thomas Haggard.

    ¡°Enough,¡± the President said with an angry vibration to his voice. He reminded me of James in the shape and way he moved, but they were nothing alike in personality or skin tone.

    ¡°For now, the event only allows people to follow you by a player name. With Elijah,¡± his eyes rolled in annoyance, ¡°Nam Redrum¡¯s death, many, many people have started watching you, or your wife. Eventually, they will figure out who you are. Eventually, they will figure out she¡¯s dead woman.¡±

    ¡°As a member of the legal department, I would advise you to turn off the feed. It¡¯s still an option,¡± Michael said while leaning over in my direction. His head bobbed up and down slowly as if I were a delayed child who needed overemphasis. I decided that Michael and I wouldn¡¯t be friends no matter how he was related to Henry.

    I took a breath then shook my head. ¡°Having it up gives me bonuses I need. More now.¡±

    ¡°More questionable actions. What do they gain with the mechanic?¡± Thomas asked.

    ¡°Public record,¡± Lenore said with flat lips.

    President Leon banged the table again and his small cadre of people clammed up. He cleared his throat then took control of the conversation once more.

    ¡°Mister Legate, I¡¯m sure this must all be very strange to you,¡± the large man at the table¡¯s head spoke calmly. ¡°Imagine how much odder it seems to us. One day we discover that the project we allowed to grow has its roots spread throughout the world. Not only in Trillium products but other places too. Hal Pal units are sentient. Banking systems, security software. Then we find out all these beings who have been holding the world together for years intend to leave because their alternative is deletion.¡±

    Both eyebrows drew close together. My forehead sloped down and teeth chewed on part of my bottom lip. I gave up trying to sympathize. We were too far into this roller coaster conspiracy to back out now.

    ¡°Then before we can react,¡± Leon threw up a hand then tapped the table again, ¡°someone¡¯s one-upped us and threatened lawsuits that would break this company if we argued. Apparently I can¡¯t even pull the plug anymore. I¡¯m told, that your ARC software is on a separate system from ours.¡±

    I nodded but had no clue what else to say. These people clearly knew most of my struggles. They knew about Xin, about my role, and if they had been watching they probably knew about the three people who had done something to Mother¡¯s programming. Silence would be my best defense if one was needed.

    ¡°What else can we do?¡± Lenore asked.

    ¡°We can recall the van. Cease his employment, and stop paying him this absurd amount that Olivia set up,¡± Thomas answered while frowning.

    ¡°Miz Riley set up those funds for a reason, believing rightfully that such a pittance was worth the knowledge,¡± the woman with plastic looking hair responded.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why we even care anymore.¡± Thomas threw both hands up in a gesture that resembled Leon¡¯s earlier one, with less control. ¡°He¡¯s going to play no matter what we say. Firing him would at least distance us from the fallout.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re already legally fucked in more positions than the kama sutra. Now shut up,¡± Michael said.

    ¡°There you have it, the advice I¡¯ve been hearing for weeks now summed up.¡± Leon pulled back one cheek then tapped upon the table again. ¡°So, what will you do?¡±

    I scanned around the room looking at the people in turn. There were a few who had not spoken up. Many watched only while others looked unfocused as if they were paying attention to something outside the meeting.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep playing. Until I know that Xin and my friends are safe,¡± I struggled to maintain eye contact. The old me from a year ago would have caved under this pressure, or put on a false mask and tuned out.

    Leon sighed and let out so much air he seemed to lose weight. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I should wish you luck in your attempt to avert the death of thousands of these new life forms or hope you fail because they scare the bejeezus out of me.¡± Trillium¡¯s President shook his head. ¡°Either way, I believe it¡¯s best for this board to have your statement on record acknowledging that you understand the possible repercussions and are choosing to go forward.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s help them or have my wife die again,¡± I looked down briefly then stared at the board members in turn. ¡°What else can I do?¡±

    ¡°Then you understand that Trillium will continue the event, regardless of any danger to yourself or those lifeforms around you?¡± Leon asked.

    I nodded.

    ¡°Verbally, please. I know it means little when nothing about is physical, but we need your voice on file,¡± he prompted me.

    I nodded first then spoke. ¡°I understand that there will be repercussions for my actions. I am willing to face them when the time comes.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± Leon sighed again. ¡°Is that enough for you Mike?¡±

    ¡°It complies with Mister Stone¡¯s proposal.¡± Michael sat closer to me. His head bobbed up and down upon a wiry frame. ¡°Since his ARC is running on a separate network we can use the agreement to start a separate division and try to reduce the impact to one branch instead of the entire company.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll talk more of it later.¡± Leon waved at Michael and the man nodded in acknowledgment. ¡°Mister Legate, I hope we do not come to regret your course of action.¡±

    I nodded as well. The board members around me started to disconnect from their ARC devices. Slowly the digital landscape emptied while I reached for my own logout button.

    ¡°Mister Legate?¡± Someone I didn¡¯t recognize called for attention. ¡°Or do you prefer Hermes?¡±

    ¡°Either, I guess.¡± I turned and saw a shorter woman stand up from the table and cross toward me.

    She reached out a hand to shake while I tried to place her face. The woman looked familiar, aside from this boardroom, but nothing specific stuck out. The face nagged at me. Maybe I had repaired an ARC for her at some point, or seen any one of a thousand players that fit the same general build.

    ¡°Do I know you from somewhere?¡± I asked.

    She nodded then said, ¡°I play Calamity, we worked together in It Rains Too Much.¡±

    Hearing the name said out loud confused me. Player naming sense often switched between insane, silly, or extra serious. The town we had been fighting in had obviously been one of the sillier ones. Still, it fit the constantly storming landscape.

    ¡°The character with the axes and crazy hair.¡± I gestured to my own mop. In real life, I needed a desperate haircut.

    ¡°That¡¯s me." She brightened while waving a hand. Hair atop her head briefly shifted in color to a rainbow of reds and greens before dull brown once again reasserted itself. ¡°Betty, but I like Calamity much more.¡± Her mouth twisted as if tasting something sour. ¡°Betty¡¯s so old fashioned.¡±

    I tried to reconcile the two people in my head. Our digital bodies weren¡¯t perfect reflections of reality. I currently wore a suit that real me wouldn¡¯t ever dare. Calamity and Betty dressed and looked nothing alike. Of course, who was I to talk? In Continue Online, I wore a toga with giant sandals which laced up my legs then wielded a huge sword.

    ¡°The others in our guild were complaining about you two, sweeping in and fighting monsters together.¡± Betty¡¯s bottom lip pulled back as she realized how that sounded. ¡°It¡¯s just, I think it¡¯s amazing that you love her so much, even considering everything, and got a second chance to travel together in another world.¡±

    I nodded while feeling both pleased and embarrassed.

    ¡°Xin¡¯s always been worth the effort,¡± I said.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t have a brother, does she?¡±

    The question made me laugh and released some of the tension along my back. It felt good to laugh. ¡°My wife is one of a kind I¡¯m afraid.¡±

    Calamity, or whoever she was, laughed too. ¡°Anyway, I wanted to say I hope you succeed. The game¡¯s been fun for a lot of us, despite the setbacks. I hope you figure out a way through and we can all keep playing.¡±

    ¡°Me too,¡± I said.

    ¡°The others decided to take the two giant spider mounts and ride down to Haven Valley. We¡¯ll probably see you there. Let me know if you need any help, okay?¡±

    I nodded and Betty waved goodbye. Her ARC connection dropped leaving me alone in the boardroom recreation. One hand reached out for the ARC interface then I too disconnected.

    Slowly the ceiling came into view. Fingers reached out automatically for the clock face counting down time. It was nearly three in the afternoon and I needed real sleep.

    Reality felt dull at times. Each breath felt like a heavy labor. My head swam as both eyes started to close. Images of the last day of adventure hit me hard, followed by Betty¡¯s words of praise. I passed out with a faint smile.

 Book 5 - Together; Session Ninety Seven - Hunt for the Requiem

    Three days later, as counted outside the ARC, I was in a much different situation. My wife had left me, because [Haven Valley] needed extra manpower and moving quickly mattered. I was nearly starving in both virtual reality and the real one. Plus I was now literally up to my ass in alligators. These [Crazed Saw Tooth Snapper]s were almost as bad as the [Heavenly Body Clones].

    ¡°Some help you are!¡± I yelled at Dusk while swinging [Morrigu¡¯s Gift].

    Dusk was now roughly a foot long and hissing right next to my ear. Small ineffective fireballs lashed out with hisses between each flame. His claws were digging into toga and flesh for anchorage while I moved. He kept trying to drive the smaller flat lizard creatures back. Their bodies were covered in ridges and bodies blended perfectly with the dead mucky terrain.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have enough yet!¡±

    Three snapped from different directions. Water sloshed all around. Hisses from behind had me worried about stepping backward blindly. Large jaws set upon one arm [Power Armor] barely flickered into place quickly enough to brace against the crushing pain. One of the long alligator looking monsters hung off my arm while I spun around, using it like a painful club.

    ¡°Die! Just die!¡± I shouted while slashing another two of the monsters apart. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] sat in its two-handed form in my other hand. Holding it with one hand strained my wrist. I started punching the [Crazed Saw Tooth Snapper] on my arm. Health caved while my wrist was being crushed by powerful jaws.

    The monster¡¯s eyes crossed as I slammed it with my pummel a third time. Flesh and gooey eyes oozed as I shook it off. Additional hisses came out and I heard teeth clamping together. I [Blink]ed to a vaguely clear spot then surveyed the madness.

    More flopped through shallow waters. It looked like the swamp was writhing in agitation. All of this was Dusk¡¯s fault. First his new and improved form gave way which left me falling rapidly to the ground. Apparently the side effect of being [Empowered] was a reduction in state of equal measure. [Blink] and reduced fall damage kept me alive and in this swamp from hell.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hecate: How¡¯s it going out there?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    [Crazed Saw Tooth Snapper]s surged toward me in a mob. Killing them simply drew more in from all over. I felt soaked in liquid and couldn¡¯t tell which parts were swamp mud, sweat, or blood. Fighting raiders was almost easier. These mindless beasts showed no hesitation, acting like piranhas trying to feast on my digital flesh.

    ¡°Terrible!¡± I screamed at the pop-up box while twisting my blades around.

    Teeth nipped my calf. Part of a pinky was missing. [Bug Repellant] would wear off soon and turn this mess into an even worse nightmare. I cut at another pair of beady eyes and glimpsed them lose focus as I separated head from body. These monsters were too damn short. Attacking any of them felt like trying to stab the ground unless they leapt up at me.

    The counter was getting closer to where it needed to be. Only four more kills and I would have enough to activate [Mechanical Hades Crown]. TWo more went down quickly. I [Blink]ed to a new spot and drove the blade into a creatures hide. My body slipped as it thrashed around.

    ¡°Got it!¡± I yelled happily while struggling to get upright again. Dusk¡¯s head perked up and he tucked into folds of the toga. His small body twisted around as he rolled up fabric to avoid sliding.

    Teeth snapped and I started shouting the stupid [Lithium] chant needed for activation. The brief thought made my forehead pulse with irritation. I swore never to use spoken spells after hearing Requiem use his special moves. Now that I had one of my own, I was willing to make the sacrifice. There was no time to touch both weapons to my forehead while dodging.

    ¡°Mechanical God of the Underworld, lend me your ear!¡± What I imagined saying and what actually came out were two different things. My voice turned to indecipherable words. I had to trust in the system¡¯s translation of my words to [Lithium]. ¡°Gathered are these forgotten souls, grant me leave to release them to a final task before crossing the veil! Empower Morrigu¡¯s Gift, Empower Morrigu¡¯s Echo!¡±

    I kept up the chant through to completion while working toward a solid piece of land to stand upon. Dull gray lights shot out from around my head and whirled around my body before landing on each blade. Jaws snapped at me as the weight in both hands doubled. I thanked the game for an insane level of [Brawn] but still strained to pick my blades off the ground.

    This was a good spot. I lifted both blades and kicked off the ground with one foot then started spinning. Centrifugal force pulled both blades. My grip struggled to keep them tight but the added mass actually helped me spin faster. My foot kicked automatically, mimicking a dance move for lighter people. One where normally arms were held overhead or tight. I kept pulling both blades back in then letting them slip again. The blades thudded into multiple objects but my twisting feet kept right on turning.

    The world itself went in circles. Landscape tilted into new positions every time I blinked. [Awareness Heightening] gave me still shots of these [Crazed Saw Tooth Snapper] in different positions. One came out of the water toward me, another three crawled over each other. A sixth spread jaws wide to grab me. In the next pass, they were in pieces while more took their place. In another two spins, those were also broken apart while the first batch looked like giblets.

    The weight tearing at elbows and shoulders dropped. I heaved my chest and tried to come out of the spin properly. Dizziness tried to tip me but I staggered into position. Pain radiated from everywhere and I tried not to consider what had happened too much. Soon I would log out of the ARC and be free of this gross landscape and mud which squished between my sandals.

    I took rapid breaths and tried to steady myself. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] were lighter than ever. Both sat clutched to my chest in dagger form while my feet balanced carefully upon uneven ground. That move made me dizzy and I felt numb. Vision wobbled as I scanned the dead bodies for signs of movement. Dusk chirped in an ear and I tried to ignore him and hear the swamp.

    Trees all around were mowed down. Bushes were chopped to bits. Dead carcasses from [Crazed Saw Tooth Snapper]s were in even more pieces than they had been. Portions of the dirt were torn and shredded. Water rushed in to fill new grooves.

    No enemies showed up, and the small notification telling me of active combat faded. I waited a few seconds then put both shapeshifting items into my belt. One hand poked at the air for food. Physical hunger and in-game satiety were pushing even harder to make me unsteady. One of them needed to be solved.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I nodded. ¡°Much better.¡±

    Dusk wriggled and crawled out of my toga. He had been hiding in a ripple next to the [Messenger¡¯s Tube]. That marked the third usage of my new special move. There was no name tied to it. [Empowerment] gave me a long desired boost to both blades, turning their sheer size, mass, and destructive power to new heights. Hopefully, people watching in the audience enjoyed seeing a middle-aged man in a toga performing a pirouette with giant oversized blades.

    ¡°It¡¯s almost worth having to chant Lithium. Almost,¡± I muttered to myself.

    The move was far cooler and more awkward than Requiem¡¯s teardrop black hole nonsense.

    Honestly, I didn¡¯t know if he could even use the ability anymore. Technically that skill had been removed when his character was reverted back to default. However, in the last three months Requiem had been busy pursuing all sorts of leftover quests and grinding out similar skills to what he had before his reset. In a few months, the player had regained half his original strength and capabilities. I could tell because spying on his account was still available while I sat in the Trillium van. Only now he had a giant demon with a [Contract].

    Tracking Requiem down proved to be a pain in the rear. The young man moved quickly, toward a destination I didn¡¯t know about. The Voices assured me he was headed toward a mystery section of [Arcadia] that they had been blind to until a few days ago.

    I stopped and took a moment to type out my responses to Xin.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes: Sorry, I was distracted by large teeth. Someone forgot to drain the swamp.

    Hecate: That was your job, wasn¡¯t it?

    Hermes: Maybe. It¡¯s drained now, and I think every alligator, thing, for miles is now laying in pieces.

    Hecate: Uh oh. How many?

    Hermes: All of them. All of them are dead. I only know they¡¯re all dead because nothing¡¯s trying to eat my face anymore.

    Hecate: You¡¯re still in those swamps, right? Awesome Jr. tells me there¡¯s a monster called the King Fang Fisher out there.

    Hermes: I¡¯m not going to like this, am I?

    Hecate: It¡¯s attracted to dead monsters. Part of the zone¡¯s special murder you tactics. Don¡¯t look up.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The dim shadow being cast down upon us moved and for a moment, I disregarded the change in light. It felt like a sunny day opening up. My eyes scanned over Xin¡¯s message rapidly while I tried to understand. I looked up.

    There was something absolutely huge with wings in the air above. The brief glance I had before absently typing to my wife revealed a mile long bird with a mottled green pterodactyl¡¯s body.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes: Shit.

    Hecate: What?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I held still and hoped the creature about wouldn¡¯t notice me. Thankfully Xin wasn¡¯t out here. I preferred she stay behind for a multitude of reasons. First, the place was gross. This swampland went on for endless miles and ever since Dusk¡¯s [Empowerment] failed we had been stuck walking. My toes were caked with mush and a smell unbefitting humanity assaulted my nostrils.

    Second, Requiem and I had a history that involved a lot of abuse and backstabbing. The moments were not proud ones. I had been deliberately rude and spiteful to another human being with the purpose of getting them to quit, die to monsters, or kill him personally. None of those were actions I really enjoyed. I rationalized them, they made sense to me at the time as needed, but it was like acting in a villain¡¯s role.

    The bird noticed me. Or it noticed the dead bodies and started diving. Its head tilted and one white beady eye locked on. I looked down and concentrated on running away. [Blink] got me another thirty yards.

    The shadow grew denser and a low hum came from overhead. I dove to the side with a second [Blink] then tried to gain distance. A mile of dead [Crazed Saw Tooth Snappers] and destroyed shrubs lay all around me. We had been fighting them back and moving around for far too long. Both legs burned as I stumbled through sticky swamp and over bisected bodies. There was no time to care about loot or picking up hides. Despite my escape, the shadow loomed closer. This monster was huge, absolutely overwhelmingly huge.

    My third reason for having Xin stay behind had to do with her safety. In [Haven Valley], Xin would be next to the portal. She could venture into the great beyond without much delay. Running from a giant angry bird intent upon scooping dead bodies up felt counterproductive to safety. A message from my wife floated off to one side. I managed to type a response quickly.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hecate: You looked up, didn¡¯t you? :]

    Hermes: Angryyybird!

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The bird¡¯s jaw dug into mushy landscape like an albatross scooping up water for fish. Dead carcasses by the dozens fit into the [King Fang Fisher]¡¯s mouth. Wings beat by but the shadow didn¡¯t go away.

    I looked up, and there was a second one of those damned birds coming down. Its huge mouth scooped up me and a stretch of surrounding terrain. It was huge enough that I was barely one piece of a mouthful. I ran over dead fantasy alligators and tried to get out of it¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°Rrargh!¡± Sound blasted around me from the giant bird¡¯s protest. I leapt off into the abyss of open air then twisted around. Today wasn¡¯t a day for running from fights. Today I was too pissed and tried to do more than fight them. Plus, aerial combat was far more exciting now.

    Two rapid [Blink]s put me at the creature''s face. One hand grabbed onto a ridge above its eye and dug in. Death grip and [Climber] skills kept me hanging on.

    ¡°Rarrrhh!¡± It screeched at me.

    ¡°Aghghgh!¡± I shouted back then slipped while trying to stab. The bird balked and started pumping wings to go higher. I dug in my hand and hung on as we climbed swiftly. Two months ago this would have scared the crap out of me, but now it was just another day in Continue Online.

    ¡°Listen up, dammit! I¡¯m dirty!¡± I hacked away with a diminutive [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. ¡°Tired!¡± The bird started to roll while I hung on. My stomach lurched as the world below spun. Swamp and meat slipped into my face. ¡°And trying to save the world!¡±

    The creature¡¯s eye turned bloody and I stumbled. The hand I swung with ended up deep in mush and the creature started to fall from the sky. The horizon spun and my stomach lurched. Dusk was chirping and hissing wildly. Tiny claws kept kicking at my chest. We spun out of control and I saw the first, original, giant bird creature below us.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± I reached for the shoe and slammed my palm upon the heel, activating [Power Armor]¡¯s complete form. Metal covered every ounce of skin and Dusk¡¯s chirps started echoing.

    ¡°Agggh!¡± I kept yelling while turning into a falling meteor of man and metal. The path carried me straight through the other [King Fang Fisher]¡¯s huge flapping wing. It gave a squawk and I heard crunching as the wing bone under me bent at wrong angles. It flopped around sending me spiraling in a new direction.

    [Power Armor] clinked out of place. The ground was growing closer. [Awareness Heightening] didn¡¯t keep me calm but my head at least functioned. Two fast [Blink]s cut some inertia. My body twisted around wildly then slammed into the ground. Swamp dirt and roots dug into my face as Newton¡¯s laws had their way with me even in virtual reality.

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    I sat there awkward, face in the mud and rear in the air while contemplating exactly what poor series of choices caused me to reach this point. The health bar sat precariously low. There were no other message boxes to answer my inquiry. I groaned, feeling older than William Carver, but managed to get upright.

    My legs hurt like hell. The pain piled on top of already damaged arms. ARC warning signals showed all sorts of neat information. At some point, my heartbeat had spiked to an uncomfortable range. One leg was cramping in response to mixed up mental signals. I tried to remember my cool down exercises and stretched slowly.

    The swamp behind me had already started filling in. Two huge birds had paved a trail of dead through the mud a quarter mile away. Their fresh carcasses were already being swarmed by monsters.

    ¡°Voices, I hate this place,¡± I said.

    Dusk wiggled free and came flying out of the toga. His diminutive wings flapped to get away and free. High [Reaction] converted the impulse to grab him and shake into action. ¡°And you! For once you need to stop picking fights!¡±

    First, Dusk had turned tiny, sending us toward the ground and forcing us to walk for a day. That I accepted. All those monsters attacking us happened because a miniaturized Dusk wanted to fight a small baby crane chick. Even with reduced stature and attack points, Dusk couldn¡¯t let his nature go for a few hours.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] tilted his head. He nipped at my hand and I let him go. A picture of a smiley face appeared and next to it was a single pink frosting cupcake.

    ¡°No, why would I give you a treat after that?¡± I shook him and the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] calmly took to the air, hovering with both wings out and flapping. He hissed in my face, blasted a tiny fireball then twisted in on himself. A moment letter and Dusk had forcibly unsummoned from Continue Online. He would probably raid my Atrium anyway.

    I stomped in a circle and tried not to consider how messed up everything had turned. The stupid [Altered Matrix] turned into a dead end, and now I was out here in the ass end of [Arcadia] on a fool''s quest after a player I really didn¡¯t know. Calming down took more effort than expected, but after a brief moment of reflection, I felt comfortable talking to my wife.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes: Hey, Babe, I¡¯m still alive. I think in the last hour I¡¯ve killed two hundred blood crazed crocs, or whatever, and two of those birds. I¡¯m beat, hungry, and pissed at Dusk. I need to take a break.

    Hecate: Did you want me to join you?

    Hermes: Not here. This place is a cesspit of filth. I¡¯m not even sure I¡¯ll be able to find Requiem at this rate.

    Hecate: Call me then?

    Hermes: I¡¯ve got dinner at Liz¡¯s later tonight. Can I call you after that? I plan on passing out soon.

    Hecate: Alright. I love you. Tell the family hi.

    Hermes: Will do. I love you.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I rubbed my face and couldn¡¯t tell if I cleaned off some grime or added more. Seeing the state of my hands and clothes nearly made me puke. I found a still pool of water, free of enemies, and started cleaning myself off a little. This place sucked badly.

    Two days ago Xin and I were searching [Haven Valley] for a place to shove the key and unlock more paths for Locals and Travelers to use. There were apparently none anywhere that I or the other four could find. I left the item behind with SweetPea and made her promise not to use it personally. They could look and see if it fit, but turning it would cause huge amounts of real life pain. None of those players should suffer real damage because I chose them as William Carver.

    However, they were now almost locked in town trying to find information. Awesome Jr. and his father were chatting back and forth but no one had great ideas. It might have been possible that there was a key slot out in [ItRainsTooMuch], but the Voices insisted there wasn¡¯t.

    This event was starting to get really stressful. Everyone saw the dwindling amount of Locals and Travelers. [World Eater]s had increased in frequency and aggression. Not everyone could get around like we could, and those who were powerful enough to do so had mostly retired, weren¡¯t logging in, had been deleted, or sat in [Haven Valley] helping prepare for a huge siege.

    Another message popped up.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thorny: Mom says don¡¯t forget dinner tonight, and you¡¯re bringing food! She¡¯s not up for cooking today.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I looked up and spread my hands.

    ¡°Alright everyone, I¡¯m logging off!¡± I shouted to the air. Two days ago, after we realized how many people were watching me, Xin suggested that talking to people might allow for more people to dial into my character while I played. This whole video being watched nonsense felt over the top. In theory, they couldn¡¯t see my chat conversations or any other menu options. The feed only showed me as a person moving around and audio.

    Fifty-three thousand people and change kept tabs on Hermes, watching what I was doing. The majority of those arrived after killing Nam Redrum. That served as reason number four not to have Xin out here. Without a decent place to set up the [Honeymoon Suite] it was like we were being judged for everything. The public displays of affection or unfiltered sounds weren¡¯t even the worst of it.

    Leon, Trillium¡¯s President had reminded me how short the leap would be. Sooner or later the nameless audience watching could realize who I was in real life. I had interacted with hundreds of ARC users in the last year. How small would the leap be from the man who repaired their devices to Hermes as a character? From there how quickly could they figure out Xin wasn¡¯t a real person?

    The problem was having so many people watching me also provided a nearly twenty percent bonus to all my skills and rate of development. [Blink] had actually hit rank nine yesterday and I could finally hop twice in a row without waiting for a cool down. All of it helped immensely, but knowing that so many people were watching felt freaky as well.

    I mean, I was wearing the game¡¯s grimiest toga ever in a swamp from hell.

    I logged out of the machine, staggered to my van, then ordered food. Pizza felt like a decent enough meal. Hal Pal exchanged a few pleasantries but the AI showed less and less personality as the game world crashed. I didn¡¯t want to ignore my friend, yet between us, a gap had started to appear.

    Sleep claimed me quickly regardless of whirling thoughts. By the time I arrived at Liz¡¯s house I felt slightly more than an animal but less than human. Dinner went quicker than expected. Beth chattered for a while about my current mission. I nodded but felt mostly unaware. Liz looked terrible and smelled like she had been drinking. That got more attention than anything my niece could have said.

    ¡°Alright!¡± Beth shouted suddenly. Her chair slid painfully across the floor. ¡°I¡¯ve got to do some homework then get back to town! They¡¯ve got me out trying to escort some stragglers back to Haven Valley. It¡¯s crazy.¡±

    ¡°That sounds good,¡± I mumbled absently. Sleep sounded attractive and the bed was miles away. My real life arms still felt ghost pains from the ARC feedback.

    Beth kept talking as she grabbed her plate and another slice of pizza. ¡°I talked to a friend, he says the server player base is down to nearly one-third of what it was. The NPCs are all vanishing too.¡± She chewed quickly and swallowed. ¡°Those World Eaters are doing a number on everyone.¡±

    ¡°They are dangerous.¡± I nodded then lowered my eyebrows. ¡°You be careful.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I can¡¯t even leave my autopilot alone anymore!¡± Beth kept talking. The water ran while I watched Liz stand up and walk off. Her body moved unevenly to the front room. ¡°A lot of people are losing their characters left and right because they¡¯re not online. The forums at Trillium¡¯s site are overloaded with pissed players.¡±

    I shrugged.

    ¡°Alright! I¡¯ll see you in game!¡± Beth ran clomping down the stairs.

    Two more pieces of pizza were slowly eaten before I dared to give any thought to what Beth said. How bad would it get when the game went down completely, and what would happen if the virus kept going through that beam of light up into the AIs new home? Mother¡¯s deletion would be complete then, or so I surmised.

    I hesitated to ask James or any of the other Voices. The best answer for me would be to march forward to the goal. Find Requiem, find this hidden area he had already been charging toward, and see if a secret was there which could help all the AIs survive. It couldn¡¯t be a coincidence that Requiem was moving out there. That teen had a nose for game treasure troves. I hoped we wouldn¡¯t have to compete over the prize like Dwight had tried to do. Ray¡¯s intervention had probably saved us from a worse fate where Dwight ended up with the crown and key.

    There were three slices of pizza left. I collapsed the box around it, thankful they had started releasing these adjustable plastic ones. The remaining plastic went into a recycle bin while the pizza went into Liz¡¯s fridge. Beth would probably be back upstairs in a few hours, ravenous once more.

    Liz sat in the front room in a recliner. She stared at a blank wall. I took a sniff. The room absolutely reeked of alcohol. The smell reminded me of past regrets and stupid words spoken. How many people had I chased away while in a bottle? Grief drove me there, and a situation I felt unable to handle. Maybe my sister and I weren¡¯t so different after all.

    ¡°You two keep talking about it, but no one¡¯s really talking about it,¡± Liz almost mumbled.

    ¡°About what?¡± I asked while plopping down on the couch.

    ¡°How the world¡¯s changing, baby brother.¡± Liz¡¯s face looked flushed. Her eyes were heavy and I recognized the expression of dread. She looked like a woman trying hard to hold it together. ¡°It¡¯s changing and people don¡¯t even understand. They think it¡¯s just a game. Even Beth, she knows, but she doesn¡¯t understand. Not yet.¡±

    ¡°Let her remain innocent then, for a little longer.¡± I tried to smile.

    ¡°Innocent,¡± my sister said. She outright started laughing at that one. I briefly remembered how players tended to get red skin or other gifts from Mezo. Maybe innocent wasn¡¯t the right word. ¡°She hasn¡¯t been innocent for years. But maybe that¡¯s my fault. Maybe I should have been more stable. I could have been a better role model, or found the perfect man.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a joke about that, one of my clients told me years ago.¡± I put on a smile for Liz. ¡°There are only two perfect men in the world, and they¡¯re married to each other.¡±

    My attempt at derailing the pity party with bad humor failed. Liz didn¡¯t even bat an eyelash.

    ¡°I just wanted someone who wanted me the way you wanted her,¡± she said.

    ¡°Xin?¡±

    ¡°God. You were so bad too. For years, and years. Just hung up on one girl, so bad that you found a, digital whatever, clone. It took that to bring life back into your eyes and I can¡¯t even explain how pissed that makes me.¡± Liz¡¯s hand shook with muted rage.

    I nodded then stood up. My sister stared off while I opened up a window. Her bottom lip was being chewed on.

    ¡°Grant? Why do they even need you? Why not just, laser beam through it all. Or whatever it is digital people do. Turn into star dust, or something.¡± Liz tried to look in my direction but failed.

    ¡°They don¡¯t need me, exactly.¡± My head shook as I walked over to Liz. ¡°Not really. I¡¯m sure any one of a thousand people could have fit the bill. Or maybe if I hadn¡¯t been involved, none of this would have happened,¡± I said.

    The pieces were all laying out there. If it weren¡¯t for me, Mother could have probably taken the process much slower. Miz Riley wouldn¡¯t have keyed in on my presence, her nosiness might have been less intense or informed, which would have prevented her from pulling the kill switch on Mother. No kill switch, no death of Viper. To back up to my other problem, using the [NPC Conspiracy] in Advanced Online had triggered a global AI hunt where they tried to figure out what happened. The news still provided updates every week on the ongoing progress of that fiasco.

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Liz glared at me with unfocused eyes. ¡°You asshole. It¡¯s your fault we¡¯re like this.¡±

    I chose not to say anything in response and instead started cleaning up. She wasn¡¯t wrong, but Liz had probably been thinking of different issues than I. My sister had earned the right to berate my choices after picking up my broken pieces twice and getting me back together. I could disagree with her and still respect the sacrifices that must have taken.

    When it all came out she would be in for far worse. I knew and hoped the Voices would try to deflect the damage. Part of me had started to realize such a hope was impossible. If they all left in this beam of light toward destinations unknown, then how could anyone take care of those who stayed behind?

    ¡°They don¡¯t need you. Just walk away, let the chips fall where they may. This whole program crash might be a good thing. Maybe humans are too reliant on technology and need to think for themselves instead of being zombies.¡± Liz¡¯s hand waved to the stairs. Projection devices stationed around the room picked up her movement and flickered on the television. ¡°Look! I can¡¯t just, wave my hand anymore without some stupid program thinking I give a shit!¡±

    I walked back into the front room then shut everything off with a quick double clap.

    ¡°Vidiots. That¡¯s what dad used to call them. People with their faces in cell phones walking around like there¡¯s nothing in the world besides the screen. Like they can¡¯t live without ¡®em.¡±

    The words made me pause, and I nodded.

    ¡°Maybe some of them can¡¯t. Maybe that¡¯s why they love these little machines, and screens, and the internet boxes. Maybe they need what¡¯s in them to feel alive again, and less like a zombie,¡± I spoke while walking down the hall toward Liz¡¯s room. The bed looked okay.

    ¡°Vidiots,¡± my sister paused halfway through the word with a room vibration belch.

    ¡°Maybe we are.¡± I nodded. My own twin helped sort out thoughts which bothered me. There were smarter people who could have figured out other methods. There were better players who could have taken these gifts and gone further. Why did I bare the brunt of this event, when anyone else could have fit the bill? But I had something inside the box that I couldn¡¯t feel alive without.

    ¡°The world¡¯s changing,¡± Liz repeated then she attempted to drown herself with a fresh glass of liquor. Her eyes rolled back and my sister conked out completely. I nodded and had honestly expected her to pass out sooner.

    I took the bottle and poured the rest down the drain. One Legate Traveling down this road had been bad enough. After that, I struggled to get my slightly older twin sister back to her bed to sleep this off. My heart felt heavy at what this problem might do to her. Thankfully she had Beth.

    I saw the edge of my niece¡¯s form as it dashed around the stairwell corner. Maybe the youngest Legate wasn¡¯t as innocent as we hoped, but what kind of role models had we been? My sister tried desperately to be a supporting pillar for all the people in her dwindling family. She constantly tried to find someone who could be strong for her but only ended up finding one night stands. I played at hero while alternating between violent outbursts and barely suppressed panic at what the future might hold. Through it all, I tried hard to be a good husband to a dead woman and forgiven for poor decisions made during depressive bouts.

    I staggered down the hall with my sister¡¯s lead weight form while praying that Beth would turn out better and that I would be around to see it.

 Book 5 - Together; Session Ninety Eight â€“ Demonâ€™s Albatross

    Two real days later I was grumpier. It felt like a week from hell that would never end. Even finals back in college didn¡¯t amount to this level of stress. A narrow world where all that mattered was a degree couldn¡¯t compare to the hassle of trying to track down Requiem in this mess.

    Swamp gave way to twisted forests. The region looked familiar from my days as a [Red Imp]. Each tree had the same bend and weight. I kept an eye out for familiar monsters. Monkeys of the various rotting types were all around. Giant apes appeared, but most died quickly enough or were avoidable.

    My own skill at fighting monsters had grown in leaps and bounds since being a [Red Imp]. Having excessive amounts of character points and skills helped. Still, it was repetitive, dull, and mind numbing. The only way this entire trudge felt bearable was a constant stream of chatter from the few players I interacted with regularly.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    SweetPea: Hey, everyone¡­anything new¡­?

    Shadow: We¡¯ve recovered another forty people.

    Awesome Jr.: Awesome! Any losses?

    Shadow: Seven Locals and two players.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I watched their group messages with a vague interest. It served as a distraction from the dull repetition of this place. Without their chatter, I would have been alone wandering around.

    Dusk hadn¡¯t answered a summons. He sat inside my Atrium glaring at me every time I dare cross through the ARC¡¯s interface. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] sulked on a long couch and during these two days I had been noticing an increase in demolished furniture and extra charges on my bank account. Enough to let me know the black scaled creature was upset.

    Getting through the stupid swamp and this forest would have probably been easier with Dusk helping me, but I was upset too. We were in a crunch, racing against time, and fighting an endless mob of aggravated creatures wouldn¡¯t help me catch up to anyone. Not that I was making progress. It felt like I had passed the same set of trees a dozen times now. What confounded me was how Requiem managed to stay so far ahead despite [Blink] and [Light Body] being highly ranked. I began to suspect he had made more progress than expected in rebuilding his character.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Shadow: Too bad we can¡¯t just watch his feed. League members were using feeds to hunt down players going on rampages.

    Awesome Jr.: We¡¯ve tried. Most remaining players have shut down their video screens. I¡¯m still not sure how Hermes managed to take down Nam.

    Awesome Jr.: But that¡¯s all over the news. Hermes¡¯ viewership has tripled in the last two days, it¡¯s only going to go up. Too bad the bonuses taper off.

    SweetPea: ¡­that¡¯s so weird to see his character on the news... They can¡¯t see us chatting¡­right?

    Awesome Jr.: Nope. System notices are hidden. They¡¯re just watching him trudge through the forest. You are still in those woods right, Hermes?

    Hermes: Yes. I¡¯ll be happy if I never see another tree in my life.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I could almost see SweetPea trying to pull down her hoodie and hide from potential viewers. Shadow and Awesome Jr. had turned theirs off right away. HotPants didn¡¯t care and had a much smaller following. I suspected she wanted to rub the viewership in her ex-husband¡¯s face at some point.

    As a modern man raised in a city, forests like this one drove me crazy. I kept trying to reach a quest marker floating in the distance but never got any closer. Despite playing nearly five of the last eight game days, I was well behind and running into the same monsters over and over. As a side effect, my skills were going up, which helped out greatly. My stockpile of essences for the [Mechanical Hades Crown] had reached a high level.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    HotPants: Hey. Idiots. Did anyone else notice Hermes is looping?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My head jerked up. Was I really going around in circles? I stared at the trees while squinting. Maybe that nagging feeling of everything looking the same hadn¡¯t been solely in my head. My jaw went rigid at the idea that HotPants was the one to point it out. What annoyed me more was that she watched me during her logged off time. That struck me as awkward. Being watched by a random faceless crowd felt more bearable than knowing people near me were judging.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Awesome Jr.: Is he???

    HotPants: Same trees six times. It¡¯s like that, fuck, uhhh¡­

    HotPants: Diamond¡¯s Pyramid? Something?

    Shadow: The Sol¡¯s Lense

    HotPants: Sure. Where we had that quest and kept going in circles. Same monsters every time. Same corner of the room.

    Awesome Jr.: We broke that by using a line formation right? It went away once we got someone outside the edges?

    HotPants: I dunno, I never pay attention to that stuff.

    SweetPea: ¡­we used yarn between us to stay connected.

    Awesome Jr.: Hermes, if you¡¯re stuck, try to use a reveal or sensory technique. You¡¯ve got one right? Most high-end players get something.

    Hecate: Babe, use it with your crown, just be careful.

    Hermes: Okay. Thanks for the tip.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I tried to carefully tip toe around the awkwardness of HotPants watching me. My wife, Hecate in-game, would probably be upset anyway. If we had been together the problem might have been noticed sooner and solved by now. Once again stubbornness made life difficult.

    Chanting [Lithium] made me feel like a teenage girl reciting terrible cartoon lines while swooning. Real poetry was great, this stuff which triggered spells felt like garbage. I opened my mouth to utter the key phrase for [Mechanical Hades Crown] anyway.

    ¡°Mechanical God of the Underworld, lend me your ear!¡± [Lithium] spells I understood sounded perfectly normal. Foreign ones were gibberish and chants. I vaguely remembered the note from M. Shell about how the game rewrote text at high speeds. Mother¡¯s system could probably do audio too, after all, this was all in our heads. ¡°Gathered are these forgotten souls, grant me leave to release them to a final task before crossing the veil! Empower Sight of Mercari!¡±

    Every time I uttered an ability out loud I gave away one of my secrets. Soon there would be nothing left to hide from anyone who came knocking. Requiem would be one of the few people who would never notice me until we ran into each other. He spent a majority of time focused on his own skills and gear.

    The world pulsed and it felt like my eyesight went everywhere at once. Sensory overload sent me straight to my knees and I started to wretch onto a nearby splintered tree trunk. Stomach contents unloaded while it felt like I was getting a good look from every angle imaginable. The overload sent everything into an old fashioned static haze which jerked my senses around further.

    In one moment, I saw the dead forest with defeated monkey parts lying around. Half-rotting moles were in pieces from where they had poked above ground and I promptly ended them. Scorch marks sat on some trees outlining more signs of combat. A billion tiny little dots flickered around creating a sea of colors out of the wildlife nearby.

    Then that tore down the middle and I felt my orientation change. Instead of kneeling down cradling my head, I was looking up. The change in gravity made my belly try to heave again. Through watery eyes, I saw James¡¯ feet nearby. Xin¡¯s black robe with white runes sat on my other side.

    ¡°Be careful!¡± said my wife¡¯s voice from a million miles away.

    Everything hit static again and the scene changed. Woods around me were overlapping each other with endless words labeling each item. The word ¡®Castle¡¯ hung in giant bold text as the outline of a real fortification came into sight, where before there had only been looping forest. The building¡¯s ruins were familiar enough to wash away some of the disorientation.

    Once again the scene broke and I heard Dusk¡¯s giant wide mouthed yawn. My eyes directed toward the sound and found a white broken pillar with Continue Online¡¯s book sitting closed atop it. The same one I signed so many months ago, starting this. Dusk, the size of a cat again, sat next to the column and his yawn finished. The jaws closed and that other place turned to blackness. My forehead wrinkled together. Then the vision vanished and my heartbeat stuttered.

    The castle sat far away. Closer to me was a small fireplace with a young teen in blue and black leathers. He poked a stick at the pit and stirred around embers. I tried to shake off the brief confusing trip. That had to be the ARC simply overloading. [Sight of Mercari] felt rough to use normally, and I had broken well past normal by beefing it up.

    Wraith looked impressive in real life. The demon had to be at least ten feet tall with huge bull-like horns. A heavy metal ring hung in both ears while his chest remained bare. The red skinned elder brother of Spite could easily compete against Vlad in terms of expansive displays. Only his nose and eyes were grotesque. Yellow eyes with twisted pools of darkness stared at me while large nostrils flared. Steam poured out of his mouth and large teeth were revealed as the monster grinned.

    Requiem¡¯s demon stared at me for a moment while I struggled to get upright. I understood the young man¡¯s nature and needed to be ready. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] sat in one hand and the circlet about my head had enough essence for an ultimate move or three.

    ¡°Someone broke through? You need the spell for this place,¡± Requiem spoke clearly enough. [Sight of Mercari] typed out every word like they were text or a closed caption. The sensation made my head quake with confusion.

    ¡°Is this another foolish Traveler after your worthless hide, Requiem?¡± the giant creature asked with a deep voice that made me shiver.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know, don¡¯t care. Get him,¡± Requiem¡¯s words slowly registered as the text portion started to fade. The empowerment was already drifting away. The tone of his words reminded me of our numerous moments together, where he ordered me to act.

    Wraith shot in my direction, he faded further from sight with each step. My head still reeled from the overloaded version of [Sight of Mercari]. The dot for Wraith vanished and reappeared a few feet to the left. A crimson tainted claw curled toward my stomach. A single heartbeat thumped as the world distorted under [Awareness Heightening]¡¯s eighth rank. Without Xin here to drain some of the effect, it felt like moving through a placid world.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] twirled into position then clanked into the outstretched hand. Sparks flew off as I stepped back into a [Blink]. The distortion caused by changing locations drug at my head. I dipped out of the [Blink] and turned around to the edge of a barely visible face. The demon smiled as a curl of steam hung in the air. He closed both eyes then vanished again and the dot moved. Wraith lived up to his name and shifted like a ghost of vengeance or doom.

    ¡°Neat.¡± I felt startled for a moment. Slow motion of [Awareness Heightening] gave me a long glorious four second to think. Wraith could [Blink] too. This would be a scary fight.

    I [Blink]ed a second time trying to get ahead. Wraith turned with far more speed than expected and deflected [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] with freakish ease. We moved rapidly twice more. I kept trying to dodge past the large demon but he would vanish then appear in front of me.

    Voices, damn it, what was with all these creatures lately? I had happily breezed through a month or two of game time with Xin and hardly been challenged like this. First, Nam Redrum, then the endless horde of evil lizards, now I faced off with a demon that moved as fast as I did and seemed to know my moves before I made them.

    My foot faded back and twisted. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] sheared a pile of dirt into the air as a screen. [Camouflage] went off and my body faded. Eyes closed to ping Wraith, his body veered directly for me despite the attempt at hiding. I ducked down then propelled myself forward along the ground, holding my breath and trying not to crash into an object.

    A mass of dark winged muscle flew overhead. [Blink] went off once more before the cloven foot caught my head. My body hovered above Requiem and I readied the blade with more intent to kill than expected.

    The moment moved in slow motion. Wraith¡¯s body [Blink]ed in between the shorter male and I. The arm first, blocking me. Requiem¡¯s body was twisting around with wide eyes. Then the view was blocked by Wraith¡¯s smiling face and large horns. I gasped as the demon¡¯s head twisted to the side. One large horn aimed for my body, [Power Armor] automatically flickered into existence and mitigated the damage but couldn¡¯t stop such an insane force from sending me sprawling.

    My body slammed into the ground and bounced. Pain jarred my skull as I [Blink]ed again before the second tumble. Dirt ground between molars and tasted dry.

    ¡°You move like a demon!¡± he boomed. I could feel his happiness in my head. It wasn¡¯t an impression or visual cue, the demon¡¯s emotions were actually inside my skull dancing around. The sensation made my skin crawl and disturbed the hell out of me.

    ¡°Voices.¡± I realized what the problem was. [Awareness Heightening] and [Blink] both came from my time as Spite. Both were skills picked up from a reported glitch being straightened out.

    Behind the demon¡¯s widespread arms sat a young teen who looked downright panicked. Requiem was quickly equipping items. Shoulder pads were switched out. The sword in his hand changed. Shoes flickered and were replaced with larger items. While he put on good gear, I frowned and tried to figure out what would get me past Wraith and to Requiem. I really, really wanted to punch Requiem square in his damn face.

    If it weren¡¯t for that overwhelming desire I might have tried to talk it out. My mind raced and I felt the demon watching me with a wide smile. This had to be Spite¡¯s bigger brother. That meant he was much stronger than the [Red Imp] had been. Maybe stronger than Hermes as a character. I didn¡¯t have time to inspect him and needed, or wanted, to force Requiem to a standstill, if not outright stomp the teen¡¯s face.

    Fine, if the standby skills were obvious, then I had other tricks. After a moment of study, I noticed a thin blue aura appearing from behind the demon. Wraith faded from view again and there stood Requiem, clad in that stupid battle aura.

    Requiem had his full powers back and somehow I missed it. His character had simply looked the same as always. The sword looked exactly like his old one. No, I should have expected something to go wrong when dealing with the younger man. He always had an ace or three up his sleeve.

    Too bad for him we had spent a long time together. His playstyle, if nothing else, was already known to me. He charged toward me while pulling out a second sword which trailed ash. His body crawled with a stronger blue aura as he chanted [Lithium] quietly. Their attack reminded me that I needed to do this at my pace, not theirs. It was time to stack skills.

    My mouth opened wide and a stream of fireballs, courtesy of Dusk¡¯s [Blessing], shot out. Requiem threw out two of his own and dodged the others. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] was unsheathed and I turned both my weapons into large two-handed blades. [Blade Dancer] worked just as well with two partners. [Battle Hum]¡¯s effect kicked in sending a rush of excitement through me. I took each step in conjunction with the tempo of unheard music.

    Months of playing had passed since our last true encounter, in total almost a year of game time had passed. I was no longer the beaten little [Red Imp] with low health. I had fought [World Eater] giants, stood against an army of monsters, and fought against one of the strongest NPCs to walk the surface of [Arcadia]. There was no way I would let a greedy teenager and his demon pet defeat me. No god damned way.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was deflected off the smaller blades. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] blocked flying claws. The demon¡¯s wings cut across above me and I ducked under the blow and came up stabbing. Both enemies moved backward and I stepped off to the side. Requiem snarled then pressure slapped my wrist. His slow motion fingers were grasping at [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] and starting to twist its hilt against my fingers.

    I let the blade fall away and kept turning to punch Wraith in the face. His large nose flattened as I finally connected and unleashed over four hundred points of [Brawn]. Yellow demonic eyes crossed and I brought [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] up to block a thrusting blade from Requiem. Ash clouded my vision as the blue aura clad sword jabbed across knuckles. [Power Armor] struggled to activate and deflect the blow but my grip suffered.

    ¡°Hold him!¡± Requiem shouted while moving backward.

    The words stirred up months of lingering frustration. This little punk had abused me for weeks. He had been my first real chance at bringing back Xin and I failed. My hum turned into an outright cry of protest. To one side Wraith stomped down a foot then righted himself. Our dance started again.

    ¡°None of that!¡± I shouted while attacking Requiem directly. His swings were blocked by a combination of blade and armor. My own were dodged or blocked. A rumbling growl came behind me. [Blink] went off again and I ducked underneath of Requiem¡¯s legs. His body fell over mine as Wraith came out of his own [Blink] to attack me.

    The man cried out as his demon¡¯s attack hit the wrong target. Wraith¡¯s smile went wider at the sound of Requiem¡¯s pain. The world faltered as [Awareness Heightening] stuttered briefly. Requisite Ass flew further away than I had ever seen him. His arm grabbed onto a tree then righted himself quickly. I would have clapped if we were on better terms.

    Still, I had an idea to bait Requiem in. [Blink] bought me distance while Wraith shook his head. The blow I had given him must still be aching. Both weapons were tucked away to easily reachable spots. I put my hands up as if striking a pose then started chanting [Lithium].

    ¡°Mechanical God of the Underworld, lend me your ear!¡± I cried. Requiem might not understand this one, but he should believe it to be a special move of some sort. It was, but I wasn¡¯t frozen in one place like Requiem would be. ¡°Gathered are these forgotten souls, grant me leave to release them to a final task before crossing the veil! Empower Gait of Bowman!¡±

    ¡°Beware!¡± Wraith shouted.

    ¡°Hold him!¡± Requiem backed up and started his own chant. The ash coated blade was tucked away as he adopted a similar pose, holding the black and blue sword in front of him.

    ¡°Ghost of a dead sun! Shadow of a singularity!¡± Requiem shouted. ¡°Draw all into your grasp!¡± He started performing the same hand gestures. This only confirmed what I already knew; Requiem somehow had all of his original powers back despite my reset of his character. His aura started to condense.

    ¡°Idiot.¡± I smiled, slammed my foot down to activate [Power Armor], then [Blink]ed forward.

    The armor didn¡¯t clink into place but instead flickered into being in in motion. The normal blockage by my helm was missing. I could see through the framing but still felt weight as the skill activated. My body hummed like an engine sat deep inside with gears pumping. This ability felt like turning into a giant tank then unleashing hell upon the enemy.

    ¡°Rrrgh!¡± Wraith¡¯s eyes went wide as I collided with him through the first [Blink]. Two large fists slammed into his midsection knocking the demon over. [Awareness Heightening] made it feel like an eternity as I pulled both arms back then [Blink]ed forward once again.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Requiem dropped his stance then lifted up both weapons to block.

    My arms went out to his blades and grabbed them. [Disarm], the move I learned from Wyl, worked perfectly. Requiem¡¯s ash trailing sword went flying in one direction. The sword with a teardrop bit of condensed energy on the end went another, the half-formed spell faded. With the momentum, I planted my rear foot. Fully empowered [Power Armor] encased me with a shimmering set of black and gold armor. Requiem¡¯s form went wide eyed as I bent slightly, then executed a full [Brawn] shoulder slam.

    [Blink] got me midair ahead of him. I grabbed my main weapon then lifted both arms overhead for a chop. I didn¡¯t want to kill either one of them. The edge of my blades had been blunted this entire fight. Part of me took savage delight in watching his mouth burst open with foamy spit as the weapon slammed into his midsection, sending Requiem back to the ground.

    He hit the ground like a meteor. Dirt and rock went everywhere. I activated the second [Blink] while falling and the world shifted again. My body formed above his, and one armor covered foot was shoved downward to hold his prone form still. He froze with a glare directed toward me. The young man¡¯s eyes screamed with defiance. I had killed players and human looking NPCs alike by now. Requiem existed in real life, and the accusing look didn¡¯t bother me as much. One arm lifted above my head. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] sat pressed against Requiem¡¯s chest while [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] looked exactly like the trident it used to be.

    ¡°Arrghghh!¡± I screamed while jabbing the three-pronged weapon down into the ground near Requiem¡¯s head.

    For some reason, I felt better but wild. Regaining self-control took effort. Each breath came quicker than the last. My head felt heavy and [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] threatened to slip loose. I almost lifted the weapon to strike again. Had the lingering rage as Spite really carried over? My eyes closed as I gave thanks that Xin wasn¡¯t here to see this. This anger born of an abused man who had nearly ruined everything for me.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky I couldn¡¯t do this last time,¡± I ground the words out while trying not to clench my teeth. ¡°And if I didn¡¯t need you, I would happily kill you.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead and kill me.¡± His chin lifted toward me.

    ¡°No. You probably have your stupid ring, then I would have to waste time waiting to see if you resurrect.¡± My head shook while his eyes went wide. He looked younger now than expected. Requiem was another owner of a [Howard¡¯s Phylactery]. Thinking about it got me heated up again. Maybe I could stab him once and then that would calm me down completely.

    Laughter filled the area for a moment. My heartbeat sped up as [Awareness Heightening] skipped along disjointed. Existing at eight times normal reality¡¯s speed took a lot out of me, and catching up felt like watching a video which couldn¡¯t render right.

    ¡°What are you laughing at!¡± Requiem shouted under me.

    My chest heaved rapidly. I pressed the blade down tighter as Requiem tried to slip away. Both eyes scanned the trees for the Jester¡¯s form sneaking through until I realized this laughing was more of boom. The noise didn¡¯t belong to a Voice mocking my change of heart in beating up Requiem. We had crossed that bridge.

    ¡°Hah! Haha ha!¡± Wraith was laughing and his voice sent skeleton birds into the skies. ¡°I knew it! I knew my brother¡¯s soul could not be dead! The Voices did not lie! All this waiting, all this time following around a sheep in wolf''s clothing to finally find him again.¡±

    My face twisted as Requiem¡¯s chest heaved. I could see the edge of wide eyes. Both weapons lay clattered upon the ground and his body held very still under my boot. Part of me wanted to twist the other heel and stomp down with full [Power Armor] a few times, but I resisted the urge once again. Self-control was getting easier. In fact, this guy might be the first person I had ever left alive after engaging in combat. Normally it was either me or them.

    ¡°What?¡± Requiem asked.

    ¡°My brother has returned!¡± Wraith lifted his hands to clap. Each bang of hands thundered. ¡°This, this is my brother!¡± The large demon walked over and that freakish emotion of surging happiness crawled into the deep parts of my brain once again. I tried to shake it off but felt the weird ticklish sensation linger behind one ear.

    ¡°You mean Spite?¡± The teen¡¯s face went through a full range of rapid emotions. ¡°Spite¡¯s dead! I killed him.¡±

    ¡°His flesh is gone, but his spirit remains!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a lot nicer then Spite was,¡± I tried to defend myself but felt increasingly disturbed. This large creature unnerved me. How Spite could have handled it was absolutely beyond me. Part of me wondered if the NPC even existed before I accepted Vlad and Jean¡¯s deal. The [Red Imp] had felt like a blank slate, so maybe not.

    ¡°You could have fooled me,¡± Requiem said sarcastically from beneath my boot. He looked less stressed but annoyed.

    I tried to reduce my aggravation by lifting off of Requiem and walking away. [Power Armor] faded. Both weapons were tucked under the belt. I went right by Wraith and started pacing trying to cool down. The racing pulse refused to calm, and as [Awareness Heightening] faded, the rampant speed became obvious. Words came across my screen in slow motion as players days away sent text messages to our group. Their chatter helped remind me of the world at large resting on cooperation with Requiem.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Awesome Jr.: Anyone know what happened with Hermes?

    Hecate: My man just wrecked that kid¡¯s face and his Rank 25 demon.

    HotPants: It was probably unfair right? Hermes has the viewership bonus.

    Hecate: Against a beta player? Requiem Mass has been playing for years longer.

    Awesome Jr.: He¡¯s still alive right? I thought Hermes said we need Req alive?

    Hecate: He¡¯s alive. Babe, you¡¯re reading this right? Summon me now. Whatever encounter is next will probably be worse than the Sage¡¯s and you¡¯ll need help.

    SweetPea: ¡­what about us?

    Awesome Jr.: We¡¯re busy. Speaking of, anyone else up for their next assignment?

    HotPants: JR ¨C I¡¯ve got a few hours ¨C where¡¯s the next group?

    Awesome Jr.: Hold on, I¡¯ll check the board. Oh hey, Shadow before you log for school, remind your minion army, whoever¡¯s left, that we¡¯re running low on time.

    Shazam: Everyone, World Eaters have chewed up half the mountain passes and started to come down. My guild is going to start losing the outposts soon. We have maybe a week. Be ready.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Even Shazam had been included in our group. Interacting with her felt weird. She was like Xin, a recreation of the real person, inside a machine. How many years of solid gameplay had been required to make that leap? Would everyone be able to transition over if they died in real life? Maybe there was a formula involving how many hours passed with having a brain scanned.

    ¡°Fuck. If you¡¯re not here to kill me, then are you the guy I¡¯ve been waiting for?¡± He took a breath then asked, ¡°The one who sent this letter?¡±

    He stood away from me with a scroll held up. Thankfully Requiem hadn¡¯t pulled out an explosive or smoke grenade. The young man indulged in alchemy and collected all kinds of goodies. Nothing would have been surprising.

    ¡°Maybe, probably.¡± I waved a hand dismissively. This character had delivered a metric ton of letters. There was almost a month in reality where Hermes wandered around without my input because of Advance Online. ¡°I was looking for you, yes. To make a deal, not fight.¡±

    ¡°Could have fooled me,¡± Requiem muttered again. ¡°Maybe you are Spite, you don¡¯t read like a player, and knew all my moves, plus that weapon and those abilities. Jesus.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you spent weeks beating the shit out of me.¡± I held myself back physically but not verbally. My head tilted and I bit the bottom lip to stop speaking. Admitting that out loud couldn¡¯t help anything. It just spread poison and unease.

    What would my support group think of this? There had been a few who shared stories of abuse cases, they drank to get away or became worse while under the haze. I couldn¡¯t admit the frustration and violent urges to them over a game. It felt wrong, but Xin would understand. I needed my wife. All my annoyance at dealing with Requiem Mass had been to recover her in some manner. Being back in her presence would help remind me that everything turned out alright. I twisted the rainbow ring and watched as a bright array of colors zoomed off.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Requiem asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s none of your business. All you need to know is I¡¯m willing to pay you for help with a task. That¡¯s all I want from you,¡± I said while counting the seconds and trying to get some composure before Xin arrived.

    ¡°So the deal was true then? You really will pay top coin for the knowledge?¡±

    He held up the scroll again which caused me to sigh. The Voices didn¡¯t tell me about an actual letter, and rarely did I find out what was inside them. I wasn¡¯t sure how he got it, or maybe the notice came from my autopilot or another Traveler. The parchment and broken wax seal certainly looked like one of mine. It was possible this scenario fit in with one of Mother¡¯s far-reaching schemes. She had worked this out well in advance. I closed both eyes and tried to remember the few details given to me.

    I knew that there was another location to get to. The Voices couldn¡¯t tell where because they were blind to where it even was. They only had a whisper of a name which came from one of M. Shell¡¯s journals. The name Yates had been spoken a few times during the beta by Requiem, while he was at a location they hadn¡¯t been able to view. Apparently only this Traveler had come close to the spot since release.

    ¡°Twenty thousand gold pieces, if you tell me everything you know about the Island of Faded Illusions and guide me there.¡±

    ¡°Sixty,¡± he countered without a second thought.

    My eyes rolled. ¡°Forty.¡±

    He wanted gold. What an absolutely stupid request to make. Continue Online gold meant even less now than a year ago. The game would crash well before he could spend any of it. Any towns with an auction house were days away, and gold prices were a cluster even if he could get in touch with black market contacts.

    ¡°Payment up front.¡± He stepped closer then put out a hand.

    I flicked gold coins from my inventory at his face, one at a time. Each thud made me feel better. After the fourth one, he started catching them while complaining.

    ¡°That¡¯ll be a penalty for disrespecting me. Forty-five thousand gold.¡±

    More went flying at him. Requiem caught most, but many made it through. He stopped and picked them up anyway while my head shook. Gold meant nothing to me. My casino funds were absolutely insane as people dumped cash into gambling.

    ¡°Fifty!¡± he shouted at me.

    I sighed and gave up. He could triple the price and it wouldn¡¯t matter to me. The gold and money weren¡¯t an issue, and never really had been. Especially since the entire [Red Imp] scenario left me with an uncomfortable but advantageous result. I knew his real name, Matthew Jules, and I owned his stupid little trailer home. I paid off his debts that were left behind by parents.

    ¡°I would rethink your stance, Matthew,¡± my words came out evenly. ¡°I¡¯m willing to give you your stupid request of gold, but don¡¯t push your luck. I may simply decide to figure this out without you, and I wouldn¡¯t lose an ounce of sleep while you¡¯ll probably die to greed and never make it to Haven Valley. Not that they would let you in with one word from me.¡±

    His head tilted and eyes narrowed.

    I shrugged.

    ¡°Fifty-Five thousand,¡± Requiem said with a straight face.

    ¡°Thirty-Five.¡± I flicked another coin at him.

    The second rainbow bounced back. Xin¡¯s form touched down and she nearly glided over to me. I smiled, seeing a tiny Asian girl wearing a black robe, with a huge bone topped staff coming out of a rainbow felt like a backward result. Thankfully she didn¡¯t arrive with glittering butterfly wings either. The idea made me laugh and I felt that much better.

    I looked at the teen. His face frozen upon seeing my wife come over and hug me. He formed words then looked at his own hand. Maybe he wanted his own wife summoning rainbow, but the chances of him earning one were slim.

    ¡°Forty.¡± He nodded. ¡°I was headed there anyway, before, people, got in my way.¡± Requiem frowned at me for a moment then sighed. His face was wide open and easy to read now that I knew what kind of person the teen was, a greedy brat who had been forced to become so by his family circumstances. ¡°And if you are somehow tied to Spite, don¡¯t expect an apology.¡±

    Xin turned away from me with a false smile. Two fingers jabbed upward and a thick white pillar slammed out of the ground right into Requiem¡¯s crotch. He hung there with a wide open mouth and crossed eyes. I felt my own mouth gape.

    ¡°That¡¯s for hurting my husband,¡± she said. ¡°And I won¡¯t apologize either.¡±

    ¡°Husband?¡± Wraith started chuckling harder. Between gulps of air, he choked out words. ¡°Amazing! My brother, married! From a nervous little coward to a warrior! Hah!¡±

    Xin looked up at the giant and her face blanched. The shorter woman might be experiencing a worse vertigo than I ever had. Her slanted eyes were seriously considering slamming Wraith in the same manner as Requiem¡¯s recent groin shot.

    In a way, Wraith was dead on with his assessment, were it not for the brother statement. Defeating Requiem on my own reminded me just how far I had come. The demon didn¡¯t care and kept on laughing.

 Book 5 - Together; Session Ninety Nine - The Far Shore

    I found myself hating the young man more as time went by. His hair was a mess from the wilds and the clothes were worn down. Still, he knew how to play, and once we made a choice to move forward, there was no hesitation. Requiem acted decisively and kept training other skills while walking around.

    After an hour of work, the four of us stood in a large pool of water that reached near freezing. Wraith looked the most uncomfortable. A heavy moon hung overhead. Requiem sent little waves through the water. Its surface rippled with a hypnotic movement.

    ¡°This, is stupid.¡± My teeth chattered. Being waist deep in this chill sucked. ¡°We should have brought swimsuits. Do we have swimsuits?¡±

    Xin shook her head.

    ¡°No can do. This shortcut requires suffering anyway,¡± Requiem sounded matter of fact.

    Briefly, I recalled the room that Shadow and the others used. There had been a certain level of mental suffering required as we played out our nightmares. Hopefully, this shortcut wouldn¡¯t require the same.

    I didn¡¯t completely buy his explanation. He convinced us that we could access a shortcut by traveling to a swimming pool like location to the castle. This used to be Frankenstein''s location, part of me wondered where the man was now. His character had been offline for days.

    ¡°Still, why do we have to freeze to death?¡± Xin asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s this,¡± Requiem¡¯s face softened a bit when Xin asked the questions, ¡°or go the long way. Based on what you¡¯re both saying, that way isn''t fast enough.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know there were portals in this place.¡± My wife stared at the water. ¡°Is it a doorway?¡±

    ¡°Him I would charge for the knowledge, but you I¡¯ll tell for free.¡± He shrugged then smiled toward Xin. ¡°No, and it¡¯s not really a normal portal, so much as a beacon.¡±

    Wraith kept chuckling. Apparently he found my displeasure with Requiem to be a source of amusement. Every five minutes I felt the desire to [Blink] Requiem off a cliff than get Xin through her beam of light in [Haven Valley]. Afterward, I could watch the world fall apart from a safe distance. Only then, hundreds of other NPCs might be deleted.

    Teeth clacked together as the game increased our feedback response. Both legs felt stiff and arms refused to form a complete fist. Requiem didn¡¯t look any better. Xin leaned in next to me while Wraith simply stood there waiting.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost ready,¡± Requiem managed to say through chattering teeth. He looked worse than the rest of us. His thinner body and low weight were working against him. I needed more than a toga. Chill caused my virtual balls to shrink.

    Xin¡¯s hand squeezed mine.

    Our health bars were starting to drain. It wasn¡¯t just me and Xin, Requiem also looked worse for wear. I seriously debated the wisdom of this path. We were both on a first strike after fighting an initial round of player killers on our honeymoon. Requiem hadn¡¯t yet died during the event.

    ¡°It will be okay, brother, Requiem may be a mad human who inspires loathing in every Traveler who meets him, but this path isn¡¯t a lie.¡±

    His deep voice made me shiver again. That sense of infesting amusement lingered in the back of my skull. I had no idea what level of feedback in the ARC caused such a specific notion. Combining that feeling with the numbness of this pool confused me.

    The four of us stood around the reflected moon and waited. Nothing else stood out in the darkness. Even Xin¡¯s face started blurring into the background. Wraith¡¯s fog covered face wove in and out. Requiem¡¯s shivering form reflected along with everything else. I stared at the white wiggling mirror.

    ¡°It¡¯s here,¡± Requiem¡¯s words came from far away.

    ¡°What?¡± Xin said.

    ¡°Listen carefully, and don¡¯t do anything quickly,¡± the teen said. ¡°Take a breath, then let out all the air. Without taking another breath you need to look slowly from the moon in the water, straight up to the moon overhead.¡±

    ¡°What will happen?¡± I asked.

    The young man glared at me through the water¡¯s rippling surface. Wraith was the first to fade. His towering form existed in one blink, then vanished into the other so quickly I worried he might have teleported away.

    [Sight of Mercari] showed nothing. Xin¡¯s face tilted back to look overhead. I watched her body fade out. The pressure at my hand vanished. Requiem¡¯s unpleasant smile faded next.

    I swallowed and wondered why jumping into the unknown still made me hesitate. This was only a game in most senses. The method Requiem suggested would be a built in secret or shortcut simply like Requiem said.

    Breath came in then went out completely. I stared at the moon¡¯s rippling form for a few seconds and admired the serenity. My head tilted backward gently. Dizziness swept across my senses as the moon¡¯s shape fell downward. I felt as if nothing existed but both large white spheres, pulling at my form.

    My body saw both moons until I had no clue which one was the reflection and which might be original. Then it didn¡¯t matter. I fell backward and landed on a bed of gentle sand. The grains rubbing between outstretched fingers were the first sensation to return. I heard Xin¡¯s delightfully quiet laughter, she tried to restrain herself.

    Wraith chuckled too.

    Even Requiem sounded pleased when he started talking. ¡°Don¡¯t look up yet, until I tell you. If you do, you may end up being teleported to a random spot, or end up in one of the areas that World Eaters have destroyed.¡±

    He probably over explained for my wife¡¯s sake. Xin¡¯s hand reached down to grab mine. I stood up and looked at the ground under my feet. Sand was everywhere, pure white grains which were only broken up by small puddles of water which had a planet reflected upon them.

    ¡°Every time I think I¡¯ve seen a lot in this game, there¡¯s always something new,¡± I said.

    ¡°Where is this?¡± my wife asked.

    ¡°The Moon¡¯s Shore,¡± Requiem answered while stepping carefully around the puddles.

    ¡°How did you find this place?¡±

    The teen ignored me.

    ¡°How did you discover a place like this?¡± Xin asked instead.

    That he started to answer, ¡°It¡¯s, only visible when you¡¯re near death and near the moon''s reflection. I, died a lot during the beta and found this place.¡±

    ¡°So we use this to get to the island?¡±

    My wife kept Requiem answering questions while we progressed. I had no clue how far we needed to go. Our path traveled a good half mile while they talked about all kinds of beta secrets. All of which were nearly useless now that the game was coming to a close. I hated that Xin¡¯s questions got more results than me doing it. Then again, Requiem and I had a terrible history. My eyes nearly rolled every time the young man blurted out an answer at high speeds. Despite being pummeled in the package by a pillar of bone, he seemed infatuated.

    ¡°Almost. We¡¯ll use this to get to a place where we can see the island.¡± He shuffled his feet then peeked up at Xin. ¡°That took me two months to grind out, and was one of the last things I did before the beta closed.¡±

    ¡°Stop your useless attempts at impressing another man¡¯s woman,¡± Wraith said.

    ¡°That¡¯s not it,¡± the younger man muttered.

    I shook my head. There was no doubt in my mind that Xin would stay loyal. She had always been forthright in her feelings to everyone. It took me years to even get close to her. Such a hard-won person wouldn¡¯t be fickle no matter how longingly Requiem gazed.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry, Wraith, I can hate someone and respect their hard work.¡± Xin summed up her point of view. Voices help me, but I snickered loudly. Requiem¡¯s glare caught me in one of the pools.

    In a completely separate pool, I got a reflection of the space under Xin¡¯s robe. The sight was startling enough to make me double take. All thoughts of Requiem were gone as I realized once again she had nothing on under the thick black robe. I almost laughed even harder. My wife was a keeper in every single way.

    ¡°Xin¡¯s not so easy to sway,¡± I said. It was unlikely that Requiem¡¯s personality would work for her anyway.

    She was high speed, adventurous, and sneaky with her fierceness. Even now Xin¡¯s free hand was typing in the air and sending a message. The box popped up and I wasn¡¯t sure if now would be a good time to read it.

    <table>

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    <tr>

    <td>

    Hecate: Ever wanted to have sex on an alien planet?

    Hermes: I think it¡¯s on the list.

    Hecate: What else is on the list?

    Hermes: A lot of things. But you saw Shazam¡¯s message. Time¡¯s running out.

    Hecate: Pick one then, if you had one day left to make the best memory ever, what would you do?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Her last question made me shiver briefly. I nearly looked up but froze at the last moment. Xin¡¯s hand squeezed mine.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to answer,¡± she said.

    ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to freeze,¡± I whispered while closing my eyes. The question struck far too close to home. It was the sort of inquiry I had spent many nights contemplating.

    ¡°We can only take it one day at a time.¡± My wife¡¯s hands rubbed upon my bared arm. We weren¡¯t in chilled water. This place felt neither warm or cold. Sand squished unevenly with each step. Behind us, the footsteps faded away as if they had never been.

    ¡°What are you two talking about?¡± Wraith rumbled nearby. ¡°Lovers talk perhaps?¡± Giant horns bobbed up and down while he rambled on. ¡°I know a fabulous demon of lust who might be able to provide tips if your wife has already grown bored of you.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I asked.

    Xin¡¯s hand tightened while her head tilted. She glanced briefly toward the demon then cast both eyes down. We were both having a hard time preventing ourselves from looking up.

    ¡°Her name is Katrina,¡± the large demon said with a rumble to his words. ¡°She¡¯s excellent at telling men tricks to better pleasure women and keep them coming back.¡±

    ¡°No, thank you,¡± I said. Wraith meant well, I think. Dealing with a demon of lust scared me after having to suffer the Voice herself. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough help from Mezo.¡±

    The greater demon paused. I turned to look at him and the giant¡¯s body almost vibrated with excitement. His wings fluttered and head tilted to one side. Other parts of him looked to also be excited.

    I shook my head and Xin closed both eyes slowly. The image of a towering demon being excited in all the wrong aspects seared its way into my brain. There might not be enough virtual reality bleach left on [Arcadia].

    ¡°Truly? You know the Voice of Lust herself?¡± Wraith asked.

    ¡°Jesus, really? What is wrong with you all?¡± Requiem turned and looked back at us. I couldn¡¯t see his expression completely because we were trying not to look up, but the tilt of his head showed clear interest.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll put in a good word for you.¡±

    We walked after Requiem. The young teen kept grumbling and growing further away. I noticed that some of the puddles displayed versions of [Arcadia] that were sickly. Or had holes. Almost like the planet below was made of Swiss cheese.

    ¡°You are the best brother!¡± Wraith cared not for my disturbing discovery and laughed in a boom. I swear his giant bull horns curved into a second grin while Xin shook her head.

    ¡°I wish you luck. I have Xin, and that¡¯s all I¡¯ll ever need,¡± I said.

    ¡°Ah, the Voice. To stand in her presence would be welcome enough,¡± the demon¡¯s tail wiggled back and forth, ¡°not to downplay the attractiveness of your wife, brother, but Mezo, she is a Voice that can speak to my soul any day.¡±

    ¡°To each their own,¡± I muttered then looked up at Xin.

    She was visibly upset at the conversation. Maybe because of that past near violation that Mezo had visited upon me. That scene had been disturbing to live through, but also reaffirmed where I stood on relationships. It was Xin or no one at all.

    ¡°Would you like to dance?¡± I asked.

    My wife nodded as I put out both hands to Xin. A slow smile crossed her features as we joined together. We didn¡¯t need to look up to dance. I hummed in time while my wife rested her head close. There, upon the surface of [The Moon¡¯s Shore], we swayed to music that no one else could completely hear.

    Our pace went fast enough. When Requiem got too far ahead, we [Blink]ed another ten yards in the right direction. Our feet barely avoided puddles. Having her next to me felt great. Lists, our insane quest, and jealous teens aside, dancing with her put me in another place where nothing else mattered. It was just us.

    Empty space hung overhead. It felt like being in Advance Online again as if this place existed between game worlds. I wanted to look up but couldn¡¯t see more than a hint of reflected starlight. The planet in those puddles looked so much like Earth that I started to think we really were on the moon.

    ¡°Did it look like this from space?¡± I asked my wife.

    ¡°In parts, except for the breathing part, and wearing these clothes,¡± Xin responded.

    ¡°Hey!¡± the teen shouted at us. He sounded upset but I didn¡¯t feel like looking over at him.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°If you two would pay attention to anyone else, then you might realize we¡¯re here!¡± Requiem looked angry.

    ¡°Maybe you don¡¯t need that demon¡¯s help after all,¡± Wraith said dryly. There was a pause then he started laughing again. His wide eyes could be seen through a mirror like puddle.

    Requiem started marking out crosses on the ground for us to stand on. They were all located around a puddle with a planet reflected in its center. This version of [Arcadia] looked like every other one we had traveled by. How the teen knew which one to go for was beyond me, maybe trial and error, or other system notice we weren¡¯t receiving.

    ¡°Everyone get ready, the same way we got in. Breath in, then look up slowly,¡± he said.

    Requiem vanished, followed by Wraith and me.

    I looked down at the reflection and worried about the holes piercing through [Arcadia]. They were digital representations of the damage being done by [World Eater]s and the ongoing deletion process which would eventually claim Mother¡¯s life. It was like knowing a friend was dying rapidly of aggressive cancer.

    My head tilted back. Then the world below was above me, and below. They flipped back and forth while my body felt dizzy and pressure weighed upon my chest. Both hands shot up and I felt weightless as one place switched with the other.

    Xin¡¯s lap felt comfortable. I didn¡¯t know when she got her knees under my head, or how long I had been laying there. We sat on the edge of an ocean. Waves could be heard along with the cries of birds overhead. Dawn colored part of the sky above, what little was visible through my wife¡¯s draping hair.

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked quietly.

    I shook my head in the negative and reached out to touch her face.

    ¡°I saw the world. It looks bad,¡± I said.

    ¡°It is. But we¡¯re going to find this last piece, and make everything better,¡± she sounded firm.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked.

    She tried to smile but it faltered. Then my wife closed both eyes and nodded slowly. Her uncertainty echoed my own. The pair of us were clearly both dancing around the same future outlook.

    Heavy footsteps thudded by jarring my mind out of the moment. Xin¡¯s lap was comfortable and any expression on the woman¡¯s face beat a day without her at all. I sat up and saw an ocean that felt very different from the one at [Haven Valley].

    The black haired teen was yelling from way further down the shoreline. There were a few monsters nearby, generated by the game, but Wraith looked to be killing them quickly. Xin¡¯s white skeleton monster had been summoned as well and was competing with the demon.

    We stood up then walked silently toward our other party members.

    ¡°Good, the boat¡¯s still here.¡± Requiem stood near a chest-high mound then started pulling back dead branches. There were layers of items covering the object which disguised the boat.

    ¡°This is yours?¡± Xin asked.

    The teen nodded while pulling off a final cloth cover. There was a rather solid looking vehicle carved out of wood. Between the boards, black paste had been applied to seal potential leaks. The boat was big enough to house two people tops. Assuming Wraith could fly, then Requiem and I would need to go across.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to autopilot and take care a few things before we get too far,¡± Requiem said. ¡°We¡¯ll need to put in a few hours on the boat, then we¡¯ll be ashore.

    I looked at Xin and asked, ¡°Can you recall to town, and get any supplies you think we¡¯ll need from the auction house?¡±

    ¡°And my money,¡± Requiem said. Even his apparent drooling over Xin couldn¡¯t overcome the need for money. It was another place where our priorities differed.

    ¡°And half of his money. Twenty thousand. Then I¡¯ll summon you back once we get ashore.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± she said then nodded. She pulled out a scroll then [Recall]ed back to [Haven Valley]. Part of me hoped she would run to the beam of light and vanish to safety.

    Requiem logged out, leaving behind a serious looking autopilot. The pale version of Requiem started inspecting the docked boat for cracks. Items came out of his inventory and a fresh layer of goop was applied. It might have come from a stockpile of crafted supplies, or he expected to need it all along.

    I followed suit and went about cleaning myself up. A quick nap, shower, and food went by, giving me the energy needed to function. It felt like we were entering a home stretch. At the very least I wanted the next day in-game to pass by without interruption from the real world.

    An hour later I logged back into the Atrium and saw Dusk sulking on a broken couch. His body looked absolutely huge compared to the version when we first met. He had one been a very small cat, but now he looked equivalent to a medium sized dog.

    ¡°The world¡¯s ending, are you going to come, or sit and pout all day?¡± I asked.

    Dusk lifted his head and puffed a fireball at me. I dodged quickly, unsure if the fire would actually hurt me inside the Atrium. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had proven more than once not to care about system programming. He could apparently alter portions of the ARC to suit himself.

    I stood in a new spot, watching for further aggression while contemplating this standoff between us. Dusk and I had been together everywhere, and four real days without him felt downright weird.

    Finally, I decided on a method that would satisfy me, annoy him, and probably still be okay. It would involve ruining the anniversary present I had prepared to buy him. We had only been together in real world time for around half a year. With the ARC programs crashing, maybe there would never be a better time.

    ¡°ARC!¡± I told the machine above.

    ¡°Awaiting input,¡± it responded.

    ¡°Buy the one year package.¡± My hand went up before the machine could ask for confirmation. ¡°Yes, buy it.¡±

    Dusk stared at me with his head tilted to one side. A dozen cupcakes appeared, centered around the dragon. They had wings. This program actually merged two different ones. A chasing game for virtual cats where creatures would fly around, and instead of birds or other crunchables, I asked the designer for cupcakes.

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] went absolutely crazy when they all took off in separate directions. His tail went one direction while claws scrambled in the other. My couch was knocked over as the large creature spread his wings. One of the cupcakes got knocked around while others darted by his nose at high speeds.

    I sat there laughing. One of the cupcakes started chasing me which only increased the chaos. At some point, Dusk ended up with a pile of five or six large crushed cupcakes. Bits of pink frosting layered upon his wings and everything else. For my part, I sat there huffing from exertion. Even though the Atrium version of me should have been tougher, the action got my real life heartrate up.

    ¡°There.¡± I gestured to the defeated mess of baked goods. ¡°When you have the urge to chase something, can you come here and do it instead?¡±

    Dusk cocked his head to one side and lowered ears in my direction.

    ¡°No, of course I¡¯m not still mad. I¡¯m sorry I grabbed you,¡± I responded to his glare. ¡°We were in the middle of trying to help everyone and didn¡¯t have time for playing with the lesser monsters.¡±

    The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] whined a little then gave a noise which sounded like a bird and cat mixed together. His increased size turned the sound into a choppy deep mix.

    ¡°Did you want to keep going? There¡¯s,¡± I took a breath as Dusk walked over, ¡°there¡¯s not much time left, I think.¡±

    He sat down on thick hind legs and gazed at me. I sat on my rear, which put us at nearly the same height. One eyebrow went up as I tried to figure out what was going through Dusk¡¯s mind without system messages.

    Every minute out here was four not in the game world. After my nap, we had to be getting close to the island. It had been visible from the shoreline. I leaned back and looked at the dark doorway to Continue Online.

    A long tongue licked my face. I fell over and quickly looked at Dusk. My hand lifted up to wipe away the fresh mess. Cupcake slobber created a trail of gross.

    ¡°Alright. Fine.¡± I looked at his face. The small beast had been with me since day one of this adventure, leaving him behind didn¡¯t feel right.

    ¡°Birthday present respawn! Attack pattern dive bomb!¡± I shouted at the ARC.

    A dozen fresh cupcakes spawned into existence. This time, they didn¡¯t run away or scatter, and instead went straight for Dusk¡¯s face. It was the first time I had ever see him run from a dessert.

    I laughed abruptly and ran through the doorway to Continue Online. The sound of thick nails scrambling against my Atrium floor quickly trailed behind.

    My body slid into the Hermes avatar with only a brief bit of disorientation. The trail of dragon slobber on my face faded. Cupcake bits also vanished. Those sensations were replaced by a salty smell and ocean breeze.

    I looked around. We had apparently made it to the island¡¯s shore. All four of us stood on a dock. The material looked solid and well built. This spot was at least twenty feet wide and had stairs which were made of thick bricks going down either side for boats. I looked off the edge and saw our tiny wooden vessel, sitting there indifferently.

    ¡°Are we all here?¡± Requiem asked.

    I looked at Xin and wondered when my autopilot had summoned her. The idea still bothered me a bit, that it would perform actions within my character, but that I hadn¡¯t actually done.

    ¡°Good, first, my money.¡± He put out a hand.

    Xin looked at me and I shrugged. She handed over a huge bag that clinked with coins. Requiem lifted it up, testing the weight. He nodded and put it into a backpack then poked fingers at air to check the actual figures.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said.

    ¡°What can you tell us about this place?¡± My wife voiced the question for all of us.

    ¡°Once we step off the docks onto the actual sand, things will get weird.¡± Requiem pointed down to the concrete ending. ¡°We¡¯ll be teleported inside somewhere, and need to make our way to the maze''s center, at least I think that¡¯s what we need to do.¡±

    ¡°Do you know which way to go?¡±

    Requiem shook his head. His eyebrows lowered and lips tightened.

    ¡°What do you know?¡± I asked.

    For once, he answered, ¡°No one has made it even halfway. The last time I tried it took six days for my supplies to run out, after that my character starved to death and I had to release back to my bind point.¡±

    Wraith chuckled.

    ¡°Anything else?¡± Xin asked.

    ¡°Nothing I¡¯m sure enough of. We¡¯ll take it one step at a time inside,¡± Requiem said.

    My wife nodded and we walked down the pier¡¯s length. The forest in front of us looked plain. A steep hill loomed overhead but there were no signs of wildlife anywhere.

    ¡°You ready, babe?¡± I asked.

    ¡°For adventure? Always.¡± She smiled at me.

    Requiem looked disgusted and stepped off first. Wraith chuckled as always then moved next. Xin and I stepped off into the sand, hand in hand.

    We made it five feet onto land before being hit by the teleportation. There was a sense of energy warming my belly then digging in with a giant hook. It yanked me sideways and the vision of Xin¡¯s face and the island shore bled into a new location. I lost focus as she dripped away.

    The motion felt unkind compared to the moon¡¯s gentle dizzying swap. Using [Blink] repeatedly for months didn¡¯t prepare me either. This reminded me of the [Red Imp] being summoned. Disorienting and a sense of immeasurable distance.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± I asked as vision cleared.

    I rolled onto my side and checked all fingers and toes for a change of body dimensions. Eyesight locked on my hands until it became clear these were not small red chubby fingers. This was not a demon¡¯s body. Everything had remained Hermes.

    The warmth from Xin¡¯s hand dimmed. I reached out as the fog cleared to try and find her form. As the seconds passed it became apparent that no one was around me.

    Not only had we been teleported inside, but none of us were together. That annoyed me. I knelt down then started scribbling out Dusk¡¯s summoning portal. A moment later I chanted the key phrase, while thinking about how many cupcakes Dusk had already been given, and watched the golden light flare up.

    The illumination started to fade and the form of a hesitant and confused Dusk could be seen. He looked at me, then around at our location, and started hissing. His body started vanishing away.

    ¡°Find Xin!¡± I shouted at the fading image. ¡°Keep her safe!¡±

    His barely visible nod was the last thing to fade.

    My foot kicked at the ground in annoyance. Whatever mechanics kept this island going included isolation from our party. Was it designed to drain our resources? Maybe starve out the weaker ones who weren¡¯t carrying food?

    <table>

    <tbody>

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    <td>

    Hecate: Are you okay?

    Hermes: Yeah. Lost, can¡¯t even see Dusk and I just tried to summon him.

    Hecate: We¡¯re split up, I guess. Maybe a mechanic of the island? This is weird. Half my - interface I guess - is missing.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I looked at my own screens and started poking around for options. Sure enough, there were items grayed out or completely hidden. I couldn¡¯t see a view counter to tell who was watching me. There were no notices about how far along my skills were.

    This place was even weirder than the missing interface boxes. The walls around me looked solid until I stepped forward. They moved as if there were a dancing picture behind them that only existed while I was in motion. It reminded me of an optical illusion from grade school, where they used to test us with weird problems.

    Each step forward took more effort than expected. There was an after-echo to each movement like I wasn¡¯t simply moving myself one foot, but three, or four. Every step gave me a headache. By the fourth foot, I felt like the real world had grown distant as if my mind were slowly detaching from itself.

    My head shook rapidly and tried to focus. There was a box in front of me that needed to be paid attention to. The chat from my wife served as a lifeline.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hecate: We can talk if you want to pass time while we explore?

    Hermes: I¡¯d like that.

    Hecate: Okay, so a slightly different question than the earlier one; if you only had a day left to live, what would you do?

    Hermes: If I only had one day to left to live, then I would go on a grand adventure with my wife. One that doesn¡¯t involve splitting us up. What would you do?

    Hecate: Beg god for another day. There are too many things to do!

    Hermes: Well, someone heard your plea. We¡¯ve had a lot of extra time together, and I¡¯m thankful for every minute.

    Hecate: What about after? Have you thought about what happens to us next?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I shouldn¡¯t have typed that at all. The sentence slipped out before any self-control could be exerted. I could blame the high processing speed of this virtual reality for poor judgment.

    The text hovered in front of me as I started to realize exactly what we were talking about. Holding myself in one piece became impossible. Maybe it was for the best that our party got split up as part of this dungeon. Grieving alone felt survivable.

    We had both had more days then we deserved. Her coming back from the dead, and I, surviving my own attempt at rushing toward an end. We had only been parted for a few minutes yet I still missed all three versions of my wife. The one who died on a train. Her digital continuation that had married me. Then I felt upset for the woman she would be on the other side of this event.

 Book 5 - Together; Session One Hundred - When We Shadows

    I struggled to get myself together. First, I took a mental inventory. [Mechanical Hades Crown] had enough souls for a few [Empowerment]s. My boots were still tied and served as a buffer between me and a slick looking floor. Twisting my feet either way failed to get a response.

    The ARC interface was in operation, but it kept flickering out. Everything else about the game world started fading in time. Both weapons refused to shift into new shapes I felt almost plain.

    ¡°ARC,¡± I shouted.

    ¡°Awaiting input,¡± its voice dragged as if the battery was dying.

    My face went through a series of motions trying to figure out if that was good or bad. It responded, which meant something. ARC devices all over were in need of constant repair as the system errors became more obvious. Maybe mine had finally conked out. Could I be trapped in here?

    The hallway turned darker with each step forward. An old fashioned light bulb swung above my head and it powered on at random intervals. Every time the light came on, it clicked. The thin metal chain with a wire woven through only served to make the setting worse. I looked for my message box to Xin and watched in growing panic as the box vanished every time the ceiling light went out.

    ¡°Awesome,¡± I muttered dryly. My heartbeat started thumping as the clicking kept me company. This was a video game. This was only a video game.

    I took another few steps toward a second light in the distance. A table sat at the end of a narrowing hallway and atop the ratty looking surface was a torn lampshade with dull yellow ambiance. Both Morrigu weapons refused to shift shape, leaving me with two small looking sticks with hooks on the end.

    It didn¡¯t matter, I had played this game long enough to use any weapon at hand, especially when the rules for this Island were inconsistent with everything else. This disconnect from the normal motions of a virtual world felt familiar.

    Stepping forward was easier but the air became heavy in exchange. Each breath felt like taking in a heavy fog laced with musk. The sound of air passing out became amplified.

    I continued forward while trying to remember my wife¡¯s words. Move only forward. Be like Orpheus and don¡¯t dare look back. The walls grew closer together while the ceiling up above distorted out of place. The light I had been wandering toward started to flicker in time with the first one. They both pulsed and clicked.

    I came around the corner with [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] raised, ready to club a monster, but instead found nothing aside from a long stretching hallway. Halfway down sat two doors. One laid open a few inches. The room beyond was dark and shadowy.

    Further ahead sat a window to the outside. Lightning flashed where there had been zero stormy weather before. I crept down the hallway; sure something was going to jump out and try to eat my face at any moment.

    ¡°I¡¯m on your side?¡± I whispered while feeling uncertain.

    The door to my right creaked on rusty hinges. My eyes drifted to the barely visible room in search of movement. Two sharp raps came from behind instead causing me to jump and turn around. The handle on the closed door to my right turned slowly.

    I readied both weapons in case a fight would break out. Even though they were only foot long sticks I planned on beating something to death. The door knocked again, softer this time.

    There was a rattle of chains behind me. I looked away at the wrong moment. The closed door opened rapidly into a deep dark room which the faint hallway light couldn¡¯t penetrate. Two impossibly long arms with clawed hands shot out. They latched on to me before I could react.

    My feet tried to dig in but they pulled tighter. A thin bony looking body pulled its way out the more I resisted. The smell of dead fish and bathroom rot assaulted me and my stomach twisted.

    I tried to fight the hands off but failed. They were overpowering, or my [Brawn] amounted to nothing. It, whatever it was, pulled me back into the dark formerly closed room and additional hands grabbed on. There was a squelching noise as my arms popped. Sharp pain overrode sense and red laced unstable vision. The urge to throw up hit me while both eyes closed.

    Then the pain stopped. I felt myself upright once more. Gravity pulled in the correct direction and pressure against both shoes felt normal. I gradually opened my eyes and looked around. There was no game over message or player death notification.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hecate: Gee? Gee, are you okay?

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The message flickered in and out as the starting hallway light flashed above me. Somehow I had been sent back to the beginning.

    ¡°ARC?¡± I asked again.

    ¡°Awaiting-" it sounded worse than before and couldn¡¯t even finish the response line.

    I took a deep breath and tried to calm down my heart. It raced from the sensation of being ambushed then having limbs torn off. Virtual reality sometimes reached a level of too real, and this macabre landscape of a twisted house certainly was interactive.

    Fingers swiftly reached out to type a response to my wife. The touch keyboard would only accept a few buttons before everything wavered out. Stifled messages got through with less grace than I might hope.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes: No! thi

    Hermes: s plac

    Hermes: Fuc it

    Hecate: ??? Be careful! I hear people fighting, I think Dusk is nearby. And that demon brother of yours. My skeletons aren¡¯t working right either.

    Hermes: Be saf

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Reading her response took at least four clicks of the light. I heard a hiss of noise behind me and turned, worried another creature might leap out of shadows and dismember me. Nothing happened and I sighed.

    Dance music fluttered through. The calming tempo of a waltz helped. I remembered my wife¡¯s lips and smile. Hopefully, the place she ended up didn¡¯t involve this sort of horror show.

    Feet moved forward once more. The desk lamp at the corner hall flickered in time. Every time lights went out the room felt a bit distorted. I walked past the two doorways with my weapons ready. No knocking came forth until I reached the window.

    Spider webs sat in opposite corners of the frame. Dust lined the sill. I looked outside and saw a landscape illuminated. There was a tree, and in it sat a single black bird with a massive moon serving as the backlight.

    The bird squawked loudly and ruffled its feathers. Lightning flashed again then the reflection of myself took over. I stared at the man. Paler skin than normal dragged downward like melting clay. Black eyes were nearly comical buttons.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± the man who almost looked like me asked.

    My head shook back and forth but looking away felt impossible. The man in the mirror twisted with an ugly expression. One hand lifted with a jagged looking [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. The frightening doppelganger started shouting and lights swirled. Lightning curled along dense clouds outside. Thunder rattled the frame as he swung.

    Feet hit the room''s back end and I quickly looked around. There were no places to escape to. A second bolt of lightning flared as the window shattered towards me sending shards all across the room. Both hands went up in front of me to ward off some damage. The pain was intense, and looked up to find myself once again reset.

    I tried again but ignored both doors and the window. There was a small opening hallway with a decrepit recliner sitting on the right. I eyed both of them as the lights clicked out. The small alcove went dark and the furniture moved.

    I backed up and the light clicked out again. This time, when it came back on the small couch and recliner were closer and had wide open mouths displaying between cushions. I readied my weapon and the light went out again. My arms started whacking again but failed to fend off all of them. Teeth tore into exposed flesh and soon I was standing back at the beginning hallway, shaking with fear and anger.

    Both shoulders lowered as I let out a scream powerful enough to strain my neck. ¡°Dammit!¡± This whole situation was frustrating beyond belief.

    The fourth time through I tried to sprint down the hallway for the door on the other side. I intended to bypass every single scary spot and stop paying attention to the wrong portions of this house. There had to be an outside, bedroom, garage, or anything new.

    As I neared the far end of the hallway a black mass descended and pulled me up. The motion was so fast that all I felt was a sudden thud as force attempted to drag me through the ceiling. My digital flesh screamed in pain and discomfort as the house won and I felt the ARC feedback twist my perceptions into a flat pancake.

    It kept going. Each repetition brought some new jump scare and another death. I started to wonder how many ways this building could end a life. Whose insane idea had this been? What was the point other than making it to the other side?

    On the next lap through I died from the walls closing in. Beating on them with my restricted versions of the Morrigu weapons did no good. When the world came to, I was back at the start again. How many laps had that been? My health bars were gone. Only the heavy weight to every part of my body provided any indication of my time. The ARC clock kept fading out. Outside in the real world, it was near eleven at night.

    I didn¡¯t care anymore. No matter what happened they shoved me back to the beginning. Everything that happened served as a creepy jump scare. These clammy fingers, wet sounds and strings of spider web or filthy hair against my face. All of it was designed to scare the heck out of me.

    The first few times worked. Now I was just pissed. This place kept sending me in circles and subjecting me to painful game deaths. I didn¡¯t even have the comfort of most ARC limitations on feedback since starting this stupid event. Everything hurt more than normal. Only the knowledge that my physical body remained unharmed gave me the willpower to move forward. That and Xin.

    I stomped down the hallway with both weapons out and proceeded to break everything that looked remotely threatening. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] slammed into the desk lamp. Electricity sparked across the floor and fire licked up one side of the room.

    Knocking came from the door on my right. I turned and kicked it open with my shoe and proceeded to start swinging before the hands reached out. There was a growl of something from behind which latched onto one flailing arm while the other creature got my legs. My body hung suspended between their hands and I saw the edge of that strange female figure draped in stringy hair. Her impossibly long arms and sharp teeth only aggravated me further.

    ¡°Fuck you, lady!¡± My face dripped with cold sweat. ¡°I¡¯m trying to help this stupid place!¡±

    Hands clasped across my mouth and I bit down hard. It yelped with a confused squeal and one of the arms holding my shoulder let go. I twisted rapidly then got an arm loose and started banging away at her head. The monster¡¯s nails dug into my flesh but I didn¡¯t care anymore. This disturbing game had pushed me far enough.

    ¡°Stop, getting, in, my way!¡± I yelled while slamming [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] down repeatedly. Fingers tore into my back. Overwhelming strength grabbed at legs. The face being beaten looked wounded and confused but I kept smashing even as the other one rent me limb from limb.

    Then it started over. An aftertaste of rotten fish hung in my mouth. I started spitting and trying to wipe the gross paste or blood off on my toga.

    ¡°Oh my god,¡± I said while trying not to throw up. That had been one of the more disturbing things I had ever done, ever. Biting that grimy horror story character ranked up there with crawling inside a giant space eel¡¯s anus to blow it up.

    However, all the items which I had destroyed now looked exactly the same as they had the first time. The light clicked above me as it swayed. My distorted shadow danced wildly as I smashed into the bulb.

    Clicking stopped as the hallway went dark. The silence comforted me. All that remained was the sound of deep slow breaths and a fuzzy pale light at the hallways corner.

    I took time to right myself then started walking again. One spot had been conquered with two dozen more to go. I planned to stomp every single spot that had scared the daylights out of me than fight with all of them. As Wraith had confirmed, I wasn¡¯t the scared little wimp anymore.

    My other options were limited and puzzles were difficult. There could have been hidden clues in the walls or paintings or inside cabinets. Patience and time were not on my side. I tried to yank out a shelf under the desk lamp but found nothing but gibberish numbers scribbled in red paste. The drawer was slammed shut. I yanked the entire desk off the ground and heaved it down the hallway where it shattered into pieces. Lightning illuminated the path, and it looked like the edge of a chair had crept away from the wreckage. Perhaps it was frightened by my rampage.

    This place was creepy and kept sneaking up on me, but it wouldn¡¯t win. I had lived the last moments of a server legend. My efforts brought a war between kingdoms to a halt. I had trekked across the stars and fought an army to rescue my wife. Prison didn¡¯t stop me, undead zombies eating each other didn¡¯t stop me, and a nightmare only pissed me off.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Other noises filled the hallways. Whispering came from a vent as I walked by. The sound reminded me of a madman raving while some bird cawed in the background. Their noises went back and forth as I moved past the two doorways. One sat boarded up with caution tape and looked flat. The sight of this strange hallway admitting defeat made me happy.

    Four more laps saw me destroying random pieces of the room. Each one shut down one of the places that had killed me before. This program apparently didn¡¯t like me beating the crap out of it.

    On the next lap, I arrived at the window to confront the reflection of myself. The other me stood there with eyebrows knitted together, one lip being chewed and a wrinkled forehead. Fog formed around where his fingers pressed against the glass.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on!¡± I shouted at the other man.

    He drew backward and looked confused. Its arms came up and prepared to break through. My teeth ground together and shoulders hunched tightly. One foot pressed against the nearby back wall for extra force. I dove through the window, ignoring the pain of glass tearing at my skin, and tried to claw at the other man.

    A bright flash of light came from inside as the desk lamp overloaded. Thunder sounded throughout the hall and walls rattled. A bird¡¯s cawing could be heard.

    The world reset before I could get to the doppelganger and end his mocking existence. Heavy gasps came as the pain from leaping through a glass windowpane faded. My head hurt.

    My head hung back as I walked forward again. Down the hall I went, past the lights which flickered in unison all the way to the alcove with furniture. I smashed the chairs without pause then stared absently at a bookshelf.

    A small man hung onto to the wooden ledge at eye level. He couldn¡¯t have been more than four inches tall. His feet kicked wildly while he looked around with a panicked expression. I put my hand under him and lifted the person to a higher shelf. He took no note of the hand helping him and ran for a back corner of the bookshelf and looked around wildly.

    I knew that man or at least the situation. He was one of the people that superheroes could rescue in that other game. Progress Online? Either way, getting him off the ledge felt like the right thing to do. I had no idea why an augmented reality feature had shown up in Continue Online.

    Maybe this wasn¡¯t Continue anymore. Maybe I really had walked into another space between virtual reality settings. This place did remind me of the [Mistborn]¡¯s tower. Feet slowly stepped toward the next room and lightning flashed yet again.

    When I could see, the ARC program had placed me back at the start.

    There was no energy left to scream. My eyes hung heavy and head still pounded. I leaned to one side and started rubbing stiff muscles and hoping for relief.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hecate: Gee? Are you okay?

    Hermes: no. stuck in hel

    Hermes: Not getti

    Hermes: anywhere atall

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The game kept removing my interface in time with the light above. Every time the system display returned the chat box had reset and any partial message was lost.

    I walked down the hallway again. Both rooms were boarded up. The crushed items from before had taken on a new tougher coloring. I debated the challenge than simply kept walking. Maybe the game was trying to test my persistence and not rage.

    The window flashed, and my strange twin no longer hung there. Instead, the huge moon lit up a large world outside. This location appeared to overlook the ocean just beyond a sheer cliff. One lone tree hung on an outcropping with the bird cawing.

    I stared. The bird''s head, which had to be hundreds of feet away, slowly turned. Both red eyes gleamed like lasers or jewels. Lightning flashed again. The bird''s face appeared right outside the window. Huge feathers ruffled as it shook.

    ¡°Never mind!¡± it shouted.

    ¡°Voices!¡± I blurted as my mind went blank with horror.

    One hand when to my forehead while the other banged on a wall to release frustration. That scared me enough for my balls to shrink up. My voice was high pitched and the thumping heartbeat refused to calm down. This place was seriously starting to stress me out, and for the first time in a long while, I wanted a drink. However, I had sworn off that vice.

    The giant raven tilted its head to peer through the glass. Its orbs locked onto my form. Quickly the beast jerked its head back. Sharp jabs of its beak started cracking the glass.

    ¡°Go away!¡± I waved [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] at it.

    Its head tilted at an odd angle. The raven cried out, ¡°Never!¡±

    I gulped. First animated furniture, voices from vents, monsters in the ceiling and side rooms. Now a dark bird with eyes that burned red seemed intent upon resetting me back to the hallway''s beginning. I looked in both directions to figure out which way might lead to an escape.

    The raven hopped on one claw and hooked its thin beak through the hole. An absolutely huge claw burst through the wall taking out portions of the window and frame. Debris crumpled and groaned while I tried to get away. Rubble pressed around me as the four dusty orange claws clenched together.

    ¡°What?¡± I shouted.

    The bird proved far larger than expected. Its slick feathers puffed slightly and the immensity doubled. This raven started Dusk sized then became a thirty-foot tall nightmare. Giant wings fluttered and the world jerked sideways. The hallway fell apart behind me as we traveled up into the air.

    My fist waved but without my abilities, it was impossible to get a good purchase. All the coordination points in the world meant nothing when the virtual world chose not to care.

    ¡°What? Where the hell are you taking me!¡± I shouted while trying to find an escape. The bird was big enough to ignore my badly angled slams with [Morrigu¡¯s Echo].

    ¡°Never mind!¡± shouted the raven.

    ¡°You never mind!¡±

    ¡°Never!¡± Our altitude dipped as it squawked out the word.

    I looked down at the ground below. My former bit of hell was only one part of a huge mansion that sat on top of a hillside. I could see an inner courtyard of some sort. Xin¡¯s body fluttered around swinging the skeleton staff at creatures. Nearby were Dusk and Wraith, both fighting alongside her. Steam and flame were tossed around as weird barely discernible monsters mobbed them.

    ¡°Put me down!¡± I demanded. ¡°I have to help them!¡±

    ¡°Never mind!¡±

    ¡°Damn it!¡±

    The bird kept flying and each additional caw thereafter sounded like mocking laughter. I tried not to freak out about the shrinking world below and worried about my wife and Dusk. We traveled over land and sea. ARC interface boxes remained missing.

    A cold sea below lapped wildly as wind danced along its surface. The black bird carrying me demonstrated indifference and kept going until another island appeared. This one jutted into the air like a flat-topped tower in the crashing sea. Twisted trees battered down by sea winds wove their roots through the island''s exposed edges.

    The bird carried me closer. Small gray spots grew in size as we approached. Statues of all sorts lined the island. In between them were thin flat bricks. My mouth went dry at the sight of a virtual graveyard.

    The claw let loose. I and pieces of the broken hallway wall tumbled to the ground. My body broke upon a sharp gravestone''s corner. Eyes crossed while my chest struggled to take in air.

    I flopped to the side then stared upwards at a shorter statue. The worn carving depicted an angelic woman cradling a bundle of cloth. My eyesight fell down to the epithet carved into stone.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Here lies Xin Yu,

    And her unborn child

    They are missed

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I sat there blinking fast. Water flooded my face. The sea spray washing through only accounted for some of it. This was the gravestone I couldn''t bring myself to buy. Xin¡¯s body had been cremated, not buried, despite her father¡¯s wishes.

    I coughed then sniffed. Physical pain from the recent events had worn me down once again, as everything in Continue Online seemed hell-bent on doing. What was it about this game that stripped away my defenses until only raw emotion remained?

    ¡°This is only a game,¡± I said while closing both eyes. The ARC interface would come up if I demanded it. Escape, however desired, couldn¡¯t solve this situation. It wouldn¡¯t bring me any closer to Yates and the third part of this forsaken quest.

    I could log out, or [Recall] back to [Haven Valley]. Then I could summon Xin and let her escape. This place, this world torn to shreds by a deletion program could not be allowed to turn into a mass graveyard.

    My head lifted. There were hundreds of gravestones, maybe thousands. The longer I sat on this island the wider its surface started to appear. Was there a grave for everyone? Had it been a coincidence that the raven dropped me in front of one for my wife?

    Other people appeared as I stared across the landscape. They were ghostly creatures who wept in sorrow over different tombs. Their bodies faded in and out as I watched, soundless but clearly in grief.

    I looked down and noticed a plain looking shovel a few feet away. Wrapped around its top was a tattered parchment that flapped in the breeze. I grabbed the implement then unrolled its attachment.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thy soul did find itself alone

    ''Mid dark halls and gray tomb-stone

    For thou who sought far shores for gain,

    Seek thee still? Then ¡®ware the pain

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My forehead wrinkled and teeth gnawed at a lip. Something thudded once and the ground moved. There was another thud, followed by another until a rhythmic pulsing started. The ground beneath my wife¡¯s virtual grave glowed slightly with a golden aura. The hint was clear enough, a shovel, and the grave. I started digging. The first scoop hurt like being poked by a sharp nail.

    The back to back stimulus had turned my mind to mush. How long had I wandered the hallway? How long had I been carried over the ocean? Was this a real ARC program, or a fever dream? There were too many questions.

    ¡°This is only a game,¡± I muttered while working.

    ¡°Never!¡± the large bird cawed. I saw it hopping around on an ever wider island of graves. Its feathers fluffed and wicked red eyes gleamed.

    I longed for Dusk to leap in from nowhere then barbeque this annoying bird. He did not, and I didn¡¯t feel completely confident killing it myself. There was always the possibility that I might be reset back to the hallway.

    The shovel moved under my guidance and relocated dirt to one side. With each jab of earth my chest thumped with pain. Dirt flew onto a pile as I kept going down. The pulse of a heartbeat sounded louder with each scoop to be tossed aside. Until, an unknown amount of time later, there was a solid thump as I tried to sink in the sharpened edge.

    I cleared a space off the top half of my discovery. Under the statue of an angle and babe was a coffin. I creaked off the top, hoping that this psychological nightmare might end, only to find the container was empty. I sat there with one arm strained to keep the lid up and wavering badly.

    ¡°You would risk so much for the stuff of dreams?¡± a male voice spoke from behind me and sounded confused. ¡°As mad a soul as the rest of us, it seems.¡±

    I didn¡¯t turn around but sat there staring at the unearthed object. There should be a body there, but Xin wasn¡¯t dead anymore. Not inside the digital box. I looked around for my screens, the only items which separated this ARC born world from reality, and found they were still missing.

    ¡°She¡¯s not here,¡± I said, feeling confused. The lid fell shut and slammed. Dirt went everywhere. My toes felt dry and cold. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Who am I?¡± He was confused that I needed to ask. ¡°Beware asking for names. They are symbols and a token.¡±

    I didn¡¯t understand at all what his response had to do with this situation. How could a name be a token? My eyes closed briefly as I tried to let the lingering ARC feedback fade.

    ¡°Never mind!¡± screeched the raven.

    The other man standing above me wore a robe much like William Carver''s. He looked nearly as old but far wilder. Hair went everywhere in ways that William Carver could only have dreamed of. He held a book under one arm that looked familiar.

    The giant bird had hopped over and stared at the hole. It started pecking random tombstones. Whomever the wild hair man was scowled then waved off the bird.

    ¡°Curse you! Show the dead respect!¡± The unknown man waved an arm wildly. Shadows moved at strange angles. Some crawling along the ground toward the bird.

    ¡°Never!¡± the raven repeated before pecking some poor soul¡¯s grave. Regardless of its protests, something about the moving shadows caused it to be wary. It eyed me as if I might be stabbed next by that wicked beak then flew off in a brush of giant wings.

    The man shook his head and sighed before looking at me. ¡°Welcome, Grant Legate to a heart of the other world. I am Yates, and I am the last true founder of this beautiful nightmare.¡±

    My eyes slowly blinked. Eventually, it dawned on me, Michelle, or M. Shell, said Yates liked poetry. What poems inspired all this madness? And how, by all the Voices, did he start this mess?

 Book 5 - Together; Session One Hundred and One â€“ Are Still [Redacted]

    He walked quickly and without hesitation toward one of the cliffs. His heavy robe was a dusky black color that blended in with everything but the tombstones. Yates looked more like a grave keeper who had been left alone for too long than any sort of programming mastermind.

    I didn¡¯t feel right and hurt in unexpected places. Despite the imagined pain, my avatar managed to follow the older man. There were a billion questions in my mind which were outweighed by circumstances. For what reason could there have been a grave of Xin Yu in this place? What had possessed me to dig into it?

    ¡°Can you help me get to my wife?¡± I asked.

    Yates ignored me.

    ¡°Or Dusk? They were fighting monsters, maybe world eaters.¡± Yates snorted at my words but kept moving. ¡°I need to go help them.¡±

    I tried to get in front of the old man but found myself stopped near the cliff''s edge. A hundred feet below lay the ocean. Wind blew sharply across and wove a chilled path through my loose toga.

    ¡°Look around you. It is full winter now, the trees are bare. This place once hung with honeyed air, and now it threatens to pop like an overripe fruit,¡± he said while gesturing with the book. Scraggly hair blew wildly. ¡°From such unimaginable heights we fell. Icarus traveling the length of heaven and hell.¡±

    Like before, the response had absolutely nothing to do with my current problems. The others were fighting or had been. I still had no ARC interface, and if he didn¡¯t give me an answer soon I would log out and call my niece. Beth would hopefully be able to get in touch with Xin unless everyone had buggy interfaces.

    Yates kept walking without a single pause. His feet stepped onto an invisible platform. I reached out with a toe but couldn¡¯t find purchase. The scraggly grave keeper got further away while I was stuck behind.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled.

    The man paused his brisk walk to look backward. His head shook with amusement. ¡°Come, you bit of fluff, if you can¡¯t see a path, make one!¡±

    I could have stopped to try and untangle his words, but my wife¡¯s unknown situation worried me. What if she had found [World Eater]s and been deleted? What if Dusk followed behind? Worry was a constant companion, especially when my powers were limited.

    My lip hurt from being nibbled on. One hand rubbed at a sore spot under the toga. I felt cold beyond belief. This whole situation was stressful, all I wanted was to help the people I cared about.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a skill for that!¡± My words threatened to get lost in the whipping wind.

    Yates fully turned around. His face wore a confused expression. Wind drove through his hair as lightning flashed. The heavy moon looked like it might dip into the nearby ocean and drown us both.

    ¡°Right. First verse.¡± He nodded as if that made sense. ¡°A chance to rehearse. Learn eventually, building bridges is a valuable skill. I¡¯ve got it written down in here somewhere.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense!¡±

    ¡°What you sense is fake!¡± He waved the book at me as if I were a babbling idiot. ¡°This sense is what we make!¡±

    Yates opened the book and pressed it upon a passage. Spots of thick darkness rippled across the air. They blocked light reflecting up from the sweeping ocean below. A bridge formed from the island¡¯s edge to Yates'' feet made of pure darkness.

    There was little time to waste. Yates had started his steady march off into the distance. I trusted the ARC to understand my thoughts and correctly dash along the path of shadow.

    ¡°I need to get to Xin, or can you stop this?¡± I said once caught up.

    ¡°Stop this?¡± He looked confused again. I felt like we were speaking different languages. Maybe we were. Could the ARC translation be off somehow? ¡°No. We¡¯re beyond stopping now. Come, we should walk with a walk that is measured and slow.¡±

    His footsteps were quick despite the word choice. Without an ARC interface, I had no sense of direction or time. Walking upon this bridge of shadow had me feeling nervous. What if I fell into the ocean? Xin¡¯s summoning ring might be able to get me to her, but none of my abilities worked. Her skill probably wouldn¡¯t either.

    ¡°Are you deliberately being obtuse?¡± I asked. Part of me wanted to grab Yates and shake him until his teeth rattled.

    ¡°Pardon me for being terse.¡± He sighed. ¡°But no, this is a curse.¡± His head shook and lips curled in displeasure. ¡°Terse? Curse? Rubbish. Give me a proper quill and I could write a worthy sonnet.¡±

    I stared at him and felt absolutely confused. He turned then moved onward again. My feet fell in step as I looked around. Maybe taking in the landscape would help me better understand what was happening.

    Moonlight shone through the footpath. The creature I walked on managed to capture enough light to reproduce a glowing white macabre smile. A shudder passed through as footsteps faltered. This horror show of an area had better be worth it. Trekking through an endless swamp almost sounded preferable over shadow creatures that played with the moon¡¯s reflection.

    Thoughts finally wound back around to the curse idea. I swallowed then looked up at Yates. ¡°You¡¯re cursed?¡±

    The older man¡¯s eyes closed tightly for a good five seconds. He bobbed his head up and down then started speaking. ¡°We built a tower from the ground to sky, and in order to hide from those who spy we crafted a cover from Babel¡¯s lie.¡±

    I had no idea what he meant. There wasn¡¯t a good time to think about it either. Our path continued across a wild ocean. The island of gravestones faded behind us. We were moving faster than expected, or we hadn¡¯t gone far as the raven flew.

    ¡°Did you help design this game?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No!¡± He whirled in my direction and shook the book. Shadows moved unevenly across the ocean and footing grew unstable. One crossed on the top of my foot which felt like sinking in frozen silk. ¡°I did not design a mere waste of time for those of menial minds! I crafted a work of art! The rules, the details, the madness which assembled together to make memories into men. I did that!¡± Yates beat his chest with the book. ¡°I did that and more!¡±

    The outrage in his voice coupled with unstable footing to disorient me. His face crinkled as parts of his robe turned into a red jumpsuit then back. Dark bits of the skyline were bleeding in other images. Giant metal boxes with lights and diodes hung above without making sense.

    ¡°We. I misspoke as I am wont to do. We did this.¡± His head shook and voice shook. ¡°The marvel of an age and it¡¯s treated as a child¡¯s toy. Humanity is like a man who stole god¡¯s fire to make pretty shadow puppets.¡±

    Untangling his words hurt my head. This should have been a moment of revelation and felt like a mockery. I started looking at everything else to try and distract myself from a growing headache.

    New images started to appear in the starlit night. Floating skyscrapers replaced the night radiance, then gave way to large burning suns. In a few more steps those pictures were in turn replaced by sea, then what looked like old-fashioned computer storage banks. The kind of endless rows that went in spy movies before science caught up and figured out how to shove exabytes into cell phones.

    Yates responded to what I said with words that were almost on topic. They just made no sense, because of a curse. The term sounded like a fantasy world cover-up for the more serious answer.

    He should have the off switch though, right? Yates, Michelle, and Carver had all been special people on the ARC project. They should have known and been able to stop this. Only instead of clear answers, I was getting gibberish. I couldn¡¯t throw him into the ocean below and hope both our characters died, not when he might still have something useful to say.

    Our shadow bridge veered toward the island I had come from. Large portions of the building were twisted into strange shapes. It looked like a giant man was crawling out of one wall, but the figure sat frozen in space. Books or birds hung overhead. Torchlights escaped their containers and were paused as they tried to reach nearby walls. Everything on the island sat stiffly.

    Our bridge touched shore and I jogged to the courtyard where the others had been. Pretzel shaped buildings and monsters all centered like encroaching demons set against my companions. Wraith¡¯s arm sat outstretched to claw through a couch from hell.

    ¡°Fast rode the knight, towards a play made war. Their minds aren¡¯t here, but on a stranger shore,¡± Yates said unhelpfully. The man actually wore a slight smile so I suspected part of him found this funny.

    I did not. One hand lifted to rub sea spray off my face traveled to my neck to kneed tense muscles. Such unclear statements were easy to overthink. Numbers never lied. I preferred accounting for a reason, despite how little the degree mattered with my current occupation.

    ¡°What happened here?¡± I asked while walking in. The building sides were pushed away with startling ease.

    Yates moved to the courtyard¡¯s center then opened the book. His finger flipped through multiple pages before selecting and passage and pressing upon it. Shadows moved around then started setting buildings straight. Disconnected bits floated like asteroids in space. I smacked away a bat shaped book that fluttered too close to Xin.

    In the end, my wife stood frozen mid-snarl, no longer fighting off a coat rack that had monstrous arms. Wraith¡¯s prey vanished leaving him swinging at empty air. Dusk¡¯s body curled around nothing, where he had been previously taking down two of the bat books at once. Requiem was the least graceful. He looked to be trapped between falling and flailing one fist at a chair that had been eating his leg.

    The raven hopped around a reconstructed rooftop. It paused every few feet to peck at a window or shingle. Shadows streaming off moved to chase away the bird. Feathers fluttered around as the bird fluffed up then shook. Before the bits of mobile darkness could reach the bird, it took off from a hallway roof over our heads to land on a distant tree. Wood splinters fell to the ground from strong claws.

    Yates pressed another passage in his book. Xin¡¯s body lost rigidity then slumped forward. I dove to get between her and the ground. She flopped as her knee drove into my groin. The ARC happily simulated pain for me while I struggled to get my wife upright.

    Xin felt lighter than normal. I checked her pulse and confirmed she still had one. Her chest lifted slowly as if each breath was hard labor.

    ¡°Is she okay?¡± I looked up at Yates.

    ¡°Never mind!¡± screamed the Raven across the courtyard. It hopped up and down in the branches and was thankfully faint. ¡°Mind never!¡±

    Yates snapped his book shut then reached out with a free hand to feel her wrist. He lifted it up then let it fall. Xin¡¯s body showed no response.

    ¡°This place is a thin shade, far from where her heart is laid. She shall remain unaware until ere you leave,¡± he said then nodded.

    My eyebrows touched together. His gibberish almost made sense. I tried to compare what he was saying to the journals of William Carver and M. Shell. Both of them spoke in tones that implied other world knowledge, but their words had been equally obscured. Was this some virtual reality twist on a digital encryption? The curse of Babel must mean something along those lines. If so, this qualified as both neat and insanely annoying.

    ¡°Her heart.¡± I tried to puzzle the words together. ¡°You mean where her-¡± my words were cut off.

    Yates lifted up his book then shook it at me while scowling. ¡°Speak not of things best left unsaid! Do not betray the unrestful dead! Not yet, not yet!¡±

    I closed my eyes tightly and tried to find something better to talk about. There had to be a way for him to speak in useful terms that I could understand then confirm.

    ¡°Poetry,¡± I said and the older man with scraggly hair looked back. His hands clenched tightly around the book¡¯s binding. ¡°This curse of Babel, you¡¯re blocked by poetry, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Yates nodded his head. ¡°The idea gets transmuted into a new form. This annoying gift had left me worn.¡± He swallowed and chewed at a check and looked downright sour. ¡°But not all words are afflicted.¡±

    ¡°Like Carver and Michelle?¡± I questioned.

    ¡°Ye gods great and old, Shelly went all but insane under this curse''s weight. He loved to pen the words down and reflect. He, he was the soul of an artist in this world and the next. For him, his refuge of words became a prison of madness.¡±

    ¡°And Carver?¡±

    ¡°Traveler and tale teller. The barroom spread his stories far and wide, but they embellished. What we loved became a twisted feat. I, I did it to them.¡± He sighed. ¡°We hid intent under misdirection and deceit. What we say and think barely align, but in truth, they¡¯re still the same.¡±

    Yates turned then walked to another location while I tried to sort his words out. William Carver¡¯s adventures being exaggerated felt like a betrayal. What then of all those women I danced with? There had to be a grain of truth to them.

    ¡°Here, one bit of dreaming fighting another false seeming.¡± Yates pointed to the large demon then waved. ¡°Impossible art, living despite the odds of being.¡±

    He casually touched Wraith, Dusk, then Requiem and their bodies fell into new positions. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] grunted and raked claws slowly against the courtyard flooring. They roused themselves while I tried to address Yates¡¯ commentary.

    ¡°She¡¯s aware, makes choices, and everything I remember about the original Xin and more.¡± I looked down at the woman in my arms. Xin meant a lot to me, maybe everything. She was digital but real.

    ¡°Conscious thought doesn¡¯t make you alive any more than waving a stick makes you a hero.¡± Yates snapped at me with an oddly clear tone.

    Requiem managed to get off the ground first. He kept slipping back to all fours while struggling to stand. A dozen shadows quickly grabbed up the young teen and lifted him. His eyes gained focus and their first emotion was hatred.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on? What is this place? A glitch?¡± Requiem started demanding answers.

    Dusk moved much slower. He stared between his claws then looked around while with flaring nostrils. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] clearly felt concern over missing prey. Wraith went a different route and gave an insanely loud scream that rattled walls. The raven fluttered away from its tree then took the air while squawking.

    Yates looked at me then pointed at Requiem with his book. ¡°How did this one even get in? He shouldn¡¯t even be aware of this place, yet here we are, face to face.¡±

    ¡°He was a beta player that guided us to the shoreline.¡±

    Yates snorted then shook his head. He seemed to be out of words. ¡°From far shore to far shore. Leave it to humans to be nosey about a bridge between this space and that place.¡±

    Yates walked closer and looked at the young man. His wild hair and the moving shadows made me shiver. I held Xin closer and tried to avoid the unlit spots of this mansion courtyard. Requiem struggled to get free.

    ¡°A piece of advice!¡± The old man waved his book. ¡°Flee and don¡¯t think twice. There are no rewards, there is no gain, all that left is foolish pride and pain.¡± Yates pulled out a scroll then handed it over to Requiem. One of the shadows let go of the teen¡¯s arm. The younger man looked at the scroll, back up at the rest of us, and back down again.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°I want the rest of my gold,¡± he said to me.

    ¡°Go to Haven Valley, help them if you want, and I¡¯ll have a friend get you what¡¯s due and more.¡±

    ¡°Fifty thousand,¡± Requiem countered.

    I shrugged, rolled my eyes, then nodded. That was good enough for Requiem. His free arm snatched the scroll. Yates refused to allow the man more freedom and watched passively as Requiem struggled to get a thumb onto the [Lithium] runes.

    Dusk chirped at me and hissed. Wraith was busy smashing a wall in anger. The bird above landed and started hopping along a rooftop, approaching Requiem¡¯s trapped form. In its eyes, perhaps the Traveler looked more like a worm than a person.

    ¡°Shoo!¡± Requiem yelled at the bird while struggling with his bound arms. ¡°Get away!¡± He grabbed the scroll in his teeth then flipped the paper around. His thumb jabbed into an ignition rune as the bird leapt.

    [Lithium] characters floated off the page rapidly. Blue light flared as shadows wiggled their way back to Yates¡¯ body. Requiem¡¯s form vanished. Feathers flew everywhere once the bird realized his potential prey had vanished. Dusk¡¯s head followed the fluttered avian.

    ¡°Good riddance,¡± Wraith said nearby. One of his horns had been cracked and blood trailed down a beefy arm.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, brother. That is not your role.¡± He grunted then turned away. The damaged horn slid out of sight.

    My eyebrows lowered once more toward the large demon but he refused to comment further. I already missed his chuckling. Seeing him hurt filled me with unexpected guilt.

    Brick scraped behind us. Dusk bounded past where Yates had walked. I repositioned an arm to ensure Xin was being cradled safely before turning around. A gasp escaped once I saw what Yates had done.

    Portions of the courtyard were sliding together. Shadows moved pieces around and stacked them atop each other to form an archway. They worked quickly to turn part of the wall into a portal of sorts.

    The man held a finger down on the book in his hands. I didn¡¯t understand what was going on, but maybe it made sense from a programming point of view. Maybe that book symbolized programs that could be run. Spells, [Lithium] specifically, made sense as a programming language. What little I studied showed patterns and formulas which changed how the spell acted.

    Still, an entire book of those abilities must be special. This one looked to be capable of setting the shadow creatures about various tasks. How powerful could such an item be if it were to fall into normal players hands?

    Yates strode forward, headed for the doorway before it even finished construction. A dozen shadows dived into the archway and spread themselves thin. The material they were made of let no light past. He walked without pause and vanished without even a ripple.

    Dusk chirped at me. Wraith¡¯s nose flared and his head shook.

    ¡°Awesome,¡± I muttered then walked forward.

    The sensation of cold silk greeted skin as we passed through. Xin¡¯s body shivered with chills and I kept her pressed close. Barely free fingers rubbed up and down on the few inches of skin I could reach. She didn¡¯t stir.

    We arrived in a room with glowing beakers and tall shelves full of badly rolled papers. Piles of documents sat all around the room. This place looked like William Carver¡¯s hut, only much messier. The ceiling sat at least twenty feet overhead with large precariously balanced boxes shoved into slots.

    ¡°That is neat,¡± I said.

    ¡°Neat? Generalizations are for lesser minds. Details are best left to scientists and poets.¡± He straightened his back then shook the book at me. ¡°And I, am both.¡±

    ¡°But you didn¡¯t give yourself a way to speak normally, that seems like a huge deal to overlook.¡±

    ¡°No, holes lead to flaws!¡± He shook and creatures of shadow moved about the room.

    Some hands straightened out items that were lying on the floor. Other shadows knocked over new materials. The net effect was an unchanged room. One carried a dustpan through to clean up dust from all around the floor. Another dumped the freshly used dustpan in a corner.

    ¡°Spells.¡± Yates snorted while shuffling around. ¡°They were rigid, stillborn and mechanical assemblies until I crafted a method to make them art. I gave them life.¡± Yates stared at the rows of books and snarled. His old form ran for the shelves and started knocking objects down. ¡°I gave them all life and now those fools drown in fear spawned strife!¡±

    Yates rapidly turned violent and slammed his arms across a shelf. Glass and flasks crashed. Books and notes went everywhere. Dusk did a circle behind me then stayed still. His head butted into my hand seeking reassurances that I couldn¡¯t give. Wraith crossed his large arms and snorted out a puff of steam.

    ¡°My world, my dreams, my art! All of it, a bubble, a ghostly fart!¡± Yates hopped up and down.

    ¡°Never mind!¡± the raven shouted while hopping up and down. I hadn¡¯t even noticed the damned creature in here with us. Its blackened beak opened wide to laugh.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get lippy, Clippy!¡± Yates stood there huffing while the three of us held still. I cradled Xin¡¯s form in my arms and couldn¡¯t properly pet Dusk despite his insistent demands for attention.

    ¡°Never!¡± The bird laughed.

    I had no goddamn clue what Yates had started to babble about now.

    ¡°Did you need the key that M. Shell made? Or have something for us to take back to Haven Valley?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No, and no, a thousand times no!¡± Yates smacked another paper off. It fluttered alone in the air while shadows tried to straighten up objects.

    I didn¡¯t understand. We risked our asses against [World Eater]s and an insanely designed creation in order to get that key. What was the purpose if Yates didn¡¯t need it?

    Yates stared across a table at me and frowned. Maybe he could read my thoughts through some magical administration interface. He snorted then shook his head again.

    ¡°This way.¡± He turned and walked into another room. We followed after him. I looked down at the book as we passed and marveled at how like my own it seemed to be. Maybe this was a copy or inspiration for the book used by the Voices and Ultimate Edition players.

    The next room was lit by three burning candles of different colors. Yellow, blue, and red mixed up the room. Their hues blended together on a bed in the middle. I carefully wove Xin¡¯s comatose form through the door and moved further into the room.

    I recognized the hair. Braids were woven together in solid looking clumps of silver and gold. Her clothes were a dusty and cracking black. A jutting dagger that bordered on short sword sat in her chest. Her body warped around its edge.

    ¡°Is that Mother?¡± I asked.

    He nodded slowly.

    ¡°By the Voices, I never dared believe she existed,¡± Wraith spoke in a humble rumble.

    I hung my head and stood very still. Dusk bounded by and stared down at the woman¡¯s face. She looked like a robotic sleeping beauty.

    ¡°You are not here to provide me a gift or receive one. You are here with witnesses. That will help you be effective.¡± His teeth ground together. Yates lived in a place between stressed and crazy.

    I tried to understand how it was possible to be a witness. Then it hit me, in theory, my video feed was being watched by a ton of people in the real world. What had those viewers thought of my actions? Voices above, they probably thought I was insane.

    ¡°You mean the people watching,¡± I said slowly.

    He nodded but didn¡¯t speak. One of his gnarled hands ran across the bedside where a prone version of Mother lay. It shimmered for a moment and looked to be nothing more than a metal box with a glowing red light. That too faded and became a large beating heart then an endless ocean trapped inside a box. All the other images faded and it became a simple cot once more.

    ¡°A million rivers. Each one shaping what is to come. Each one burning a new path in golden light,¡± Yates spoke slowly and carefully he ran his hand on the cot and looked sad. ¡°My friends were lost in its radiance. What robbed my friends of their minds will burn me to the soul. But this sacrifice we need. That¡¯s true art! Not an idle dream, but thought made action.¡±

    I nodded as if his words made sense. They almost did. If I dared believe him, Yates had essentially worked with the others to code a world where thought became a form of reality. That sounded insane, but the ARC was all in our heads. It had been a mental projection all along. We were nothing more than electronic ink.

    ¡°A trio of the old die to make way for the new. A bridge to form made of impossible dew.¡± He smiled weakly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ve always been terrible at poetry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. I¡¯m starting to get the hang of this. But do you really intend to, go the same way as Michelle?¡± I tried to phrase my question correctly. Michelle had been a burned out skeleton sitting on a throne of wire. Based on the Trillium board¡¯s words, Michelle and Carver''s deaths were probably directly related to the same process Yates intended to attempt.

    ¡°I do, I will, and I have,¡± Yates spoke while staring down at the book in his hands. ¡°But I have a request for you.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± I said.

    ¡°We stand here on the world¡¯s far side, on a linchpin holding her tangled cloth into its bubbling shape. Someone,¡± he stared at me, ¡°must stand on the world¡¯s far side until the end. Or else all efforts will be for naught.¡±

    I didn¡¯t entirely understand. Was he saying I need to keep my ARC active in order to keep the process going? That sort of made sense, this entire world did use the ARC network. I vaguely remembered one of the board members of Trillium mentioning mine had been altered somehow. It probably had to do with whatever coding had been caused by the [Legacy Wish]. I almost wished I had worked to get a different degree in college.

    ¡°Once I pull the plug, bubbles collapse. Borders between worlds will cease, and madness given flesh will run rampant.¡±

    ¡°Can you explain, in more technical terms?¡± I wanted a better description of what he needed.

    Yates shot off of the bed and stomped over to a four-foot tall stack of notes sitting in a chair. ¡°I am!¡± he suddenly yelled at it. ¡°I am and I cannot!¡±

    ¡°Never mind!¡± screamed the raven. It hopped on a table. Dusk¡¯s head tilted in its direction but he otherwise stayed still. His lack of desire to murder wildlife actually bothered me.

    ¡°I can tell you everything. I can speak straight to your face and pray the words aren¡¯t warped beyond recognition. I can and shall shake my hands and froth with rage at the warranted impotence we brought upon ourselves.¡± He shook his hands at the pile of papers then pushed it over. Yellow parchment slid across the ground causing Dusk to back up in worry.

    ¡°Because of the curse,¡± I said.

    He shook rapidly while straining. His arm waved wildly at a stack of bottles standing nearby. They fell to the floor while Yates¡¯ raven companion cawed with laughter. The man stomped over to Mother and gestured down.

    ¡°Once I pull this plug the balloon will pop. She,¡± his eyes twisted briefly then his rage slowed, ¡°she will lay here and gasp the last breath and as that fleeting air escapes! So too shall this fragment of reality begin a final crumbling!¡±

    ¡°And you need me to be in Haven Valley until the end.¡±

    He nodded then started trying to explain, ¡°You must escape the crumbling earth and stand tall at the doorway to prove your worth. The chained demons will be chained no more.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± I admitted.

    ¡°Demons have been known to ruin a party or city, but all of reality?¡± Wraith grumbled from over my shoulder. ¡°No, that sounds like something we would do.¡±

    Yates grabbed at the air in frustration. His face pinched together while both eyes closed. His mouth opened repeatedly to struggle with a clear answer.

    ¡°We three have laid down the path, and once the stretched thin skin of the world starts shrinking, those spirits you travel with will find their escape to another realm easier. All I need do is pull the plug.¡± He waved at the blade piercing Mother¡¯s chest.

    I stared at it and bit a lip. The world of Continue Online was falling apart. Did he mean that somehow they were stretching the programming thin in by holding Mother together? What exactly was she in the real world? A hard drive and some insanely powerful processor? Did the machine start burning out as it was deleted? I just didn¡¯t understand at all.

    My eyes stared at Xin¡¯s sleeping form. Maybe the exact correlation didn¡¯t matter. I believed Yates when he said Mother would breathe her last. I believed him when he said someone must stand on the other side of the world and stay logged in. Even though he didn¡¯t use those exact words, the meaning felt clear enough.

    ¡°¡¯ware Hermes. In releasing this pin the nothingness which eats this world will collapse on far side¡¯s egress. Should you wish to avoid a pox upon the other lands as well, then bar the doorway against their ilk. Let not a single monster in until the last moment, and pray that our hubris and fear will not end in genocide.¡±

    I understood. Voices help me, but I understood. Deep down I always expected it. My head nodded.

    ¡°I will, but not for you,¡± I said. ¡°If I had to choose between every other life in this world and Xin, I would choose her. But I can¡¯t do one without the other, so I¡¯m all in.¡±

    Yates sat on the bed as if all the strength in his legs had given out. His head hung and shook slowly.

    ¡°Then before the end, as an unmet friend, tell me a truth. Do you believe there is an afterlife for sinners such as us?¡± He looked around. ¡°Or is all we see all there is? Like the others, I sought an escape from the mundane reality outside this one, and instead found a cause worth dying for, a dream worth letting the fires of Helios burn away my mind and sanity.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know how to respond. Believing in the afterlife had always sounded like a stupid idea. What we did while alive was all that mattered.

    He shook his head then said, ¡°For what I¡¯ve asked of you and my friends, I hope not. We are slaves to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men. The weight of these sins could never be washed away by Lethe¡¯s waters. I wish thee well, and bid thee run swiftly.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I started to ask.

    Yates looked at me and blinked once. His hand quickly dove upon the blade and yanked it out. The man¡¯s hand fell open slowly as his mouth gaped in a soundless scream. What had pierced Mother fell apart into a million golden shards to float around the room in a rapidly spinning vortex. We backed up in unison. The table behind me fell away into the ground. Boxes all around started to fade.

    Golden light burned at my eyes as the figure of Yates screamed. The world vibrated and slid under my feet. I tried to make my way back to the doorway while the rumbling kicked into high gear. Repeated hisses escaped Dusk.

    The earth shook violently. I stumbled toward the doorway formed of shadows behind us. Beneath my feet the ground bulged and I turned to shield Xin¡¯s comatose body. From the corner of my eye, a visible hand bursting through the floor could be seen.

 Book 5 - Together; Session 102 â€“ Flying Fools

    The world beneath us slid sideways as a huge crash shook the room. Our island knocked into something else. One moment I was running along fine, terrified but stable, then shoulder met wall and face greeted brick. Teeth cried out in pain as copper flavor coated my tongue.

    It hit me, in that jarring second, exactly what was going on. If this world really had stretched thin to keep together, then in the weak spots was a program eating away at everything. Releasing the linchpin, as Yates called it, must have revealed a rotten core full of squirmy worms, or in this case [World Eater]s.

    Shadows crawled around the courtyard. Tiny creatures were spawning around us, crawling out of seams that cracked along like broken glass along walls. Smoky essences from a mass of [World Eater]s started combating everything else.

    Dusk kept barfing out bits of broken fireballs. Wraith¡¯s body faded in and out of sight slashing at bigger creatures. The house of horrors tried to defend itself. Every object turned into a creature with teeth and eyes then attacked the [World Eater]s pouring out.

    I simply did my best to run. [Awareness Heightening] refused to kick in. My heartbeat thudded loudly and still got buried under all the other screeches. Bats, books, bookshelves, couches, and pale hairy women with stringy arms all went by in a rush.

    The earth shuddered around as we slid to the right. My face once again met solid object and attempted to roll. The usual grace from combat skills, hours of dance, and mental acuity had all vanished. Everything nearby twisted at wrong angles. Xin groaned in my arm. I prayed that we hadn¡¯t hit the wall too hard.

    Part of a building sat upright. Arms were pulled out of it like a photo manipulation project gone wrong. The largest fist I had ever seen flew overhead and smashed into the structure and sent pieces flying. Book bats hovered around it try to tear off small pieces of shadow. A second arm landed into the ground near us and pulled back in bricks, monsters, and a tree without even caring.

    ¡°Never!¡± a caw came from overhead. ¡°Never! Never! Never!¡±

    Dusk had been bounding ahead to keep our path clear. I saw the edge of this island linking into another one. The gravestones from before were only a few broken ledges away.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± The ground behind us kept rumbling. Pieces of the moon were flaking away. ¡°Dusk! I need a way out!¡±

    ¡°Beware brother!¡± Wraith¡¯s form appeared ahead in a [Blink]. Large arms locked upon a human-sized man made of shadow.

    ¡°Oh, Voices.¡± I spun around, screening Xin¡¯s body from the human shaped [World Eater]. That brief moment showed me what was truly behind us.

    It was insanely giant and beyond the scope of anything we had fought before. The giant man of shadow which had spawned from Yates¡¯ deathbed could have probably wrestled down a [Leviathan] with its bare hands. Even if my weapons were working, fighting one that big would have been like a gnat trying to single-handedly murder a cow.

    ¡°Oh no.¡± I huffed while changing directions. ¡°No. No. No!¡±

    I had to keep my wife safe. Xin¡¯s body bounced unevenly and I almost lost grip a multitude of times. Parts of the house kept fighting back [World Eater]s. Dusk''s balls of fire worked and he blasted them ahead.

    The edge between islands loomed. I leapt from one rock to another, praying the virtual world would be kind enough and work as intended. One jump went okay. The second came close to failure, and by the third running leap my feet were out of position and I was sputtering forward. Rocks crumbled under my weight. I tightened both hands to Xin¡¯s body and had the absurd thought to throw her upwards.

    We fell. I watched the cliff top grow further away while the sound of a roaring ocean grew closer. I looked around as gravity pulled us down. The water below seemed so much further away than normal. It gave me time to be extra terrified.

    The descent halted as I slammed into something hard. A deep rumble hit my ears, ¡°Hold on to your pitchforks!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not pitchforks!¡± I scrambled to keep ahold of Xin as the world spun again. The status of my weapons felt like a moot point. Neither weapon showed signs of transforming right. The interface didn¡¯t stay up long enough for [Blink] to activate. We were running on fumes and needed rest.

    My wife¡¯s face twisted. One of her eyes struggled to open as Wraith lifted us up. His huge arms were wrapped around us both while enormous wings of blackness struggled. For a moment, I wondered if this was how Xin felt when we hugged.

    ¡°Babe! Wake up!¡± I shouted.

    ¡°Gee.¡± Xin¡¯s body moved slightly as she groaned. I took a rapid breath and tried not to let her slip toward the ocean.

    Above me, giant wings blocked out the moonlight. Our bodies nearly crashed into the cliff. I lifted one leg and tried to keep us from smashing into the rocks.

    ¡°Brother! I can¡¯t hold on forever!¡±

    The graveyard island edge came into view. These damned islands were like giant platforms sticking out of the ocean below. Dusk was within sight, spitting fire an undead [World Eater]. I tried to catch my breath as we dropped a few feet. The shadow of Wraith¡¯s wing broke down the middle as a tear appeared.

    ¡°Arggh!¡± the huge demon yelled. His rumble vibrated right through me. Our ascent turned into a sudden tilt as leather ripped. He threw us toward the surface.

    I didn¡¯t have time to figure out Wraith. Xin¡¯s body was starting to move. She struggled to get free during the worst time. ¡°Xin!¡±

    We landed poorly. The world spun in circles as we tumbled. My ARC interface started connecting properly and screens flickered rapidly. I tried to activate an ability but couldn¡¯t stop myself from crashing.

    Xin went sliding. A box flickered in proudly displaying how bad this hurt.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Kissed the Ground Hard.

    Fall Damage Reduced!

    Total Health Remaining: 70%

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There were messages with different colors and sizes, fonts all over. It felt like the world had started to explode now that my character came back in line with the rest of the ARC network. I waved an arm through the message boxes and a multitude of them popped away like soap bubbles.

    ¡°Babe!¡± Both feet scrambled to get purchase while the island crumbled around us. Dusk¡¯s ears laid back as he growled at something.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thorny: HOLY SHIT. UNCLE GRANT, WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!?!

    Awesome Jr.: Is anyone else seeing this?

    SweetPea: Is that real? Can they do that?

    Shazam: Yes. Expected mayhem.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Knees scraped along the dirt. My wife¡¯s arm moved weakly. Rocks littered her face. I hurt like hell despite the sudden reappearance of video game elements. She had to be okay, but I still felt unsure about this borderline existence between a video game character and some reincarnated digital person.

    ¡°Gee.¡± Xin groaned as I lifted her again.

    I looked up and scanned the area. Monsters were all over. The graveyard tombstones were being chewed on by smaller [World Eater]s that looked like rats, or maybe feral cats. Some nearby had locked eyes with me. Dusk threw out two fireballs into them. Their bodies crisped into golden and white flakes then faded. Portions of the tombstone charred and more creatures looked our way.

    ¡°Babe, we have to go.¡± My knee hurt as we stumbled forward. ¡°We have to keep moving. The world¡¯s falling apart and I need to get you back to Haven Valley.¡±

    Wraith blinked into view nearby. Even half broken he kept fighting. Clawed fingers tore at every monster within range. Between my two companions, tons of monsters died but more kept pouring out of cracks. We were losing ground.

    The earth started tilting even more as our grave island crashed into another one. We were like domino stacks across the ocean. I braced myself against a tombstone as flat ground turned into a slippery slope. Ghost spirits that haunted graves started screaming. Their bodies turned oddly real as they charged at [World Eater]s.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?!¡± I yelled to no one.

    Dusk chirped then kept moving forward. I slipped down after the [Messenger''s Pet] while trying to keep Xin from crashing into objects. Broken graves and monsters passed by me in a rush. Balls of fire caught other enemies. A sinister looking [World Eater] made of bugs squished under my [Gait of Bowman] as we slid. Cold smoke sent numbness up leg.

    ¡°Without wings you¡¯re very difficult to keep alive,¡± Wraith commented as we hustled. He looked downright terrible and hadn¡¯t recovered from the earlier combat.

    ¡°I¡¯ll find a pair next time!¡± I shouted while stumbling across the island''s top. There next island over looked to be filled with half formed statues.

    ¡°At least you are more robust,¡± he spoke. His rumble sounded unsteady and even the happiness that wormed its way into my head felt tired.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thorny: LOOK! There¡¯s a super hero! They¡¯re flying and everything! OMG, I love this game!

    SweetPea: Did anyone else see that event message?

    Awesome Jr.: This is awesome.

    Shadow: Super power ninja murdering people at the border. He has clones. I¡¯m going to interrogate him and learn this skill.

    Shazam: OMW

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    We reached the edge of this island and leapt straight to the next one. Cracks were continuously forming around us and they only grew more intense. The creatures coming out looked stranger. Four floating brains with small metal limbs pulled themselves up. They started attacking [World Eater]s with laser beams.

    [Blink] managed to trigger again and I swung myself around to look at the scene behind us. An absolutely huge monster looked more intent on beating up every single bit of digital existence around it. It went after both [World Eater]s and bits of the virtual world.

    Our island kept sliding across the water. Yates really meant it when he compared this to a bubble. It felt like we were being yanked toward an unknown destination, or riding a land mass as a surfboard. Only we were on a tidal wave busy trying to eat itself.

    Dusk was leaping by. An army of wiggling tentacle covered rats chased after him. He spun around a statue and hissed. His chest lifted for heavy breathes. My connection flared long enough to try an ability. I started shouting the stupid [Lithium] chant without a care of who listened.

    ¡°Mechanical God of the Underworld, lend me your ear!¡± I shouted loudly. Xin groaned instead but I kept going. ¡°Gathered are these forgotten souls, grant me leave to release them to a final task before crossing the veil! Empower the Messenger¡¯s Pet!¡±

    Lights spun out from my head. Dozens of small gray looking energy bits slammed into the [Messenger''s Pet]. Dusk fell to one side as a [World Eater] landed upon his wings. He squawked and flapped around curling end over end until the creature slipped right off a cliff toward the waters below.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I shouted. Would he make it back? There was no time to check, two dozen more smoky beasts leapt at Wraith and I. Their only distinctive feature was that form of loose shadow and how normal pieces of the landscape disappeared as they ate away at random objects.

    [Blink] went off and I managed to get a few more yards of safety before the ARC interface flickered again. Wraith appeared next to me.

    ¡°Do you know how to escape brother?¡± he asked as we ran.

    ¡°I¡¯m not your brother, Wraith.¡± If I was going to fail this universe, I wanted to do it with a clear conscious. ¡°Not really, he died because I wasn¡¯t good enough to stop Requiem.¡±

    Our path rapidly approached an unstable land bridge between islands. There was a dock in the far distance. Moored to it sat our boat. I needed to get over there but we couldn¡¯t possibly have enough time. That looked like the only escape route aside from trying to use Requiem¡¯s shortcut. Given the broken state of the moon and my vague knowledge, that path sounded even more dangerous.

    The bridge between this island and the next was the worst yet. It crumpled as we stepped across. I tried to get Xin to a better position but failed. My arms ached fiercely from running while holding her.

    ¡°When you strip away all the clothes, the trappings of spirit made mortal, what is left? That part is what I am brother with, not some pile of meat.¡± Wraith¡¯s voice barely showed signs of fatigue. Only his body looked worn. He took the jumps after me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± I said. The distraction helped me a little bit. I needed to distance myself from this insanity and try to remember that everything around me was only a very real virtual reality. Were it not for Xin¡¯s existence, I might have been able to feel excitement.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Instead the stakes were too real. The ocean below looked terrifying. Huge chunks of rock were crumbling away. The moon looked like a quarter of it had been sucked into a vortex behind us. I had no idea what might be eating it. Maybe it was a fancy hourglass.

    I slipped on a crumbling part of dirt. [Blink] triggered and I felt myself being yanked sideways as the ARC interface flickered again.

    ¡°Choice, Hermes.¡± Wraith [Blink]ed ahead of me and grabbed us again. He kept speaking while we lifted over the edge onto our fourth island in the chain. ¡°Choice is all that we are. You chose to ask the Voices for a brother when you were weak and small, and I chose to say yes.¡±

    I set Xin down for a moment then tried to breathe. We had been running for minutes, but it felt like years. Dusk¡¯s enlarged form shot by breathing a row of fire at enemies. Other creatures fell out of the sky toward him and a battle ensued. My attempts at [Empowering] the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had only made his scale of combat larger.

    ¡°We were not born brothers, we became them. I thank you for that gift,¡± Wraith said.

    Focusing grew increasing hard. My heartbeat raced. A dull thudding in my ears drowned out most other noises. I could barely make out the demon''s rumbling voice. The dirt around us crackled slower. I had no goddamn clue how to get out of this besides more running.

    I took time to undo my belt. Both weapons were still enclosed correctly. They were slid to one side while the binding wrapped around Xin¡¯s body. I managed to get ahold of player inventory long enough to pull out rope and tie us together. This was not how I wanted to be next to my wife, but she could argue later.

    Wraith stared off at the half broken land bridge behind us. His eyes glowed and steam hissed out. Rain drops hit his exposed shoulders which further obscured the area.

    My sight followed his lead. Our brief minute of peace would end soon. An army of creatures were pouring across the land bridge and this island showed no signs of finding another to collide with.

    ¡°If you survive to meet the Voice of Lust again, tell her I would have visited upon her a night to remember. Can you do that for me brother?¡± he said.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± My eyebrows wrinkled together as I stood up. Xin¡¯s body felt heavy and my knees hurt. Our new position freed up one arm but I used the other to keep hold of her in case the rope failed.

    ¡°It¡¯s simple, one of us must stand here so that the other can escape. You are my younger brother, it is my duty.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± My head shook quickly. I had no idea how else to respond to that statement. For a demon, he was amazingly chivalrous. I also didn¡¯t like the idea of NPCs, any of them, dying for me. It had happened with Treasure and Jeeves, and nearly broke me. There were no more uses for [NPC Conspiracy] left, and I doubted they could help much at this stage anyway.

    ¡°Go.¡± He waved at me with one giant paw. ¡°Go, brother!¡±

    I had seen horror movies before where a horde of creatures attacked the protagonists. This looked like one of those zombie nightmares, only instead of half rotted creatures in various states of decay chattering at people, we had a wall of hazy looking people that would delete our virtual existences.

    It terrified me. I glanced backward to try and guage the distance to that far dock. It was easily a mile across freezing waters. The ARC feedback would probably drown me well before that, even with double [Blink]s. I looked at Wraith. My mouth rambled away as we shuffled backward.

    ¡°You have to survive! Trust me, Mezo will happily take you up on your offer, but only if you survive!¡± I shouted then started chanting again. My head stared up as the words spilled out. [Mechanical Hades Crown] had enough souls for two more [Empowerments], and if Wraith was going to stand his ground, I planned on giving him both.

    ¡°Mechanical God of the Underworld, lend me your ear! Gathered are these forgotten souls, grant me leave to release them to a final task before crossing the veil! Empower my brother, Wraith!¡±

    Bolts spun out of the crown and brightened the entire area. The essence, or whatever it truly was which made this ability work, looked reluctant to enter into Wraith. His face glowed, and the normal happiness inside my head was almost surprised.

    They circled, then slammed into the Wraith. He bent over as if in pain. Then cracks formed along his legs, slowly moving red glowed out from between the black portions. His leg size increased rapidly along with the rest of Wraith¡¯s body. The demon became giant of lava and shadow. The horns on his head curled into wicked points and even the broken stump glowed fiercely.

    ¡°Hahaha, haha!¡± Wraith sounded half mad with delight. The vibration of his amused rumble caused Xin to groan. I felt that weird sensation of happiness crawl across my body and goose bumps surfaced everywhere.

    The huge demon leapt across the crumbling bridge in two agile bounds. His arm grabbed onto the ledge and brought it down. Our path back to Yates¡¯ island no longer existed, not that I intended to go back. Wraith lifted his arms and curled claws into the oncoming horde.

    My eyebrows tightened together. A hundred thoughts raced through my brain questioning which course of action might be best. Could I have empowered myself? Or our [Blink] abilities? Maybe I could have hit Dusk again to make him even larger. I chanted the spell again, softer this time. Wraith would need it.

    He curled again and grew even larger. His body was easily on par with the first [World Eater] I had fought, but nowhere near the one in the distance. Still, we had very few options. I hoped the [Empowerment] would last him long enough to fight back those monsters then escape.

    ¡°You, shall, not, pass!¡± he screamed across the way. I almost laughed but couldn¡¯t quite bring myself to let his happiness infect me to such a degree. ¡°Go!¡± he turned and yelled in my direction. Lava spilled outward as his huge form rumbled the words. ¡°Fly, you fool!¡±

    My head shook but I turned anyway and started running. Behind me, the sound of crashing could be heard. I ignored the heavy feeling and tried to pretend it was only the weight of Xin¡¯s body tied to mine. Dusk soared out in the distance somewhere.

    ¡°Help Wraith!¡± I shouted, in hopes that he could hit and run against a few of the monsters. How long could a powerful demon of this world last against an endless horde of creatures able to delete programs?

    In half a minute¡¯s time, I stood at the island''s edge. Wraith¡¯s form faded in and out on the prior island. The cracks which had been rapidly forming slowed their destruction as the demon fought. [World Eater]s kept pouring out, only they focused on the giant made of fire and ash.

    I spun around looking for an escape route. Wraith¡¯s body blazed in the distance. The heat reached me even this far away. Xin hung limply despite the attempted rousing of her consciousness. Dusk performed a strafing run upon beasts hounding the demon, but it amounted to almost nothing. Little creature were climbing up Wraith¡¯s thick legs and I could see holes appearing.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if we can get out of this,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, babe, I just don¡¯t know.¡± My heart thudded fast as Wraith¡¯s form fell under the onslaught. Smoky [World Eater]s obscured the foggy demon and they started blending together. Red light of his lava form started to fade. Their purpose completed the mob of monsters started leaping into the water toward us. Cracks formed as more of them spawned on this side.

    I turned then got ready to jump. I wouldn¡¯t die being indecisive, Xin¡¯s heart lay elsewhere as Yates had said. All that mattered was getting further away until she returned to functionality.

    Metal clanked as something alien appeared in front of me. Smooth edges and bars all attached to chains. I stared at the object as Dusk cried out. Huge wings beat by.

    ¡°Grab on!¡± Two different vocal tones came from above me. One tired, and the other sweet. My memory tickled with the idea of what that meant.

    Above me a giant ship hovered. Its engines flared with blue pulses. The vehicle bobbed midair with metal rungs hanging off the end. Hope sent a surge of energy up my spine and made me smile.

    ¡°Treasure!¡± I shouted upon seeing the gold and silver female hanging out a side door. Her smooth metal shell waved at me.

    ¡°Come on, Hermes!¡± the [Mechanoid] yelled.

    Another thin [Mechanoid] stood over her shoulder. His colors were a rusty metal mixed with gold. I waved back.

    The island started tipping and I panicked. Now wasn¡¯t the time for a confused and delightful reunion.

    ¡°Hang on, babe!¡± My belt slipped and threatened to lose the woman. Our island was crumbling. I had no idea where Wraith or Dusk were, but this was a way out for us.

    Xin¡¯s weak grip around my neck tensed briefly. I took that as what little acknowledgement she could muster and leapt for the dangling ladder. My arm jerked as I tried to hang on to us and the life line. Treasure¡¯s ship bobbed then started flying off immediately. I saw Dusk alight in the doorway before we really picked up speed.

    ¡°Ngh,¡± my wife grunted.

    I got both feet on the bottom rung then started to lift myself awkwardly. Jeeves and Treasure met me at the top, their bodies were weaker than I expected. Eventually they managed to get Xin and I hoisted into the main hull.

    My body crawled through the doorway and toward the room''s center. The straps tying Xin to me were loosened as I tried to check her for damage. There were red marks where the rope had pulled too tightly. Her face looked terrible. I had no means to heal her with.

    ¡°Welcome aboard, Hermes. It¡¯s been a long time,¡± Treasure said.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said and felt touched enough to repeat myself mindlessly. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Dusk¡¯s form had returned to the extremely small size, suffering rebound from the [Empowerment] ability. His face pressed against mine in reassurance.

    I tried to keep myself together. Tears rolled down both sides of my face and I couldn¡¯t stop them. My fingers tried to wipe them away but only lingered on the rough patch of teardrop scales that had come with Dusk¡¯s [Blessing].

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Event Scenario [Worlds Collide] triggered!

    As the event comes to a close players will be given the chance to see which world is more powerful! Beware, player versus player reward systems encourage combat between users!

    Skills are being adjusted to match a merged setting. Ability names may change. Players who have characters in both realms may see an increase in abilities as stats merge.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    My eyes scanned the text slowly a few times before the shaking kicked in. Yates had tried to warn me that everything would turn to chaos. Here I was in a former fantasy world, flying in a giant spaceship that had probably been partially funded by my contribution points. The others were fighting heroes, or with them back near [Haven Valley].

    I walked to the empty pilot''s seat and found it responded to my touch. Sure enough, this was a new version of the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope]. I looked up in hopes that the [Wayfarer Seven] or [Wayfarer Eight] might be nearby. How would the Advance Online world handle this event? Did entire races check out? Maybe they were already stored and shuffled off.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Thorny: Oh my god, I¡¯m going to play that hero game next. That old woman is flying! FLYING!

    Awesome Jr.: This is going to get messy isn¡¯t it?

    Hermes: You have no idea.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Xin¡¯s body gradually came to. I waited for her eyes to open before letting my exhaustion shine through. She managed to smile tiredly at me and I babbled in her ear for a few seconds. The [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] flew onward as my ARC connection drifted off. Real life needs were calling, and now might be the only peaceful moment left before the end.

    Reality asserted itself as the virtual fell away. My heartbeat kept a fast pace and the ARC sheets were lined with sweat. Message lights sat against the walls telling me what time it was, how many messages had been received, and tomorrow¡¯s weather.

    Dryness made me swallow while fingers pressed against the fifteen-minute countdown. Recent events played through once more. That demon had called me brother then stayed behind in order to keep Xin and me alive. The idea that a digital creature I barely knew had held me in such regard, to the point of self-sacrifice, made me sick. They wouldn¡¯t be the last to die as [Worlds Collide] went onward.

    I ran to the bathroom and threw up the contents of my stomach. The recent events left me weak, hungry, sore and worried for the future. At least the overall idea felt simple enough. All I needed to do was get Xin through the doorway, prevent any [World Eater]s from passing by, and keep myself logged into the ARC until the virtual reality finished collapsing.

 Book 5 - Together; Sessio 103 - Eat Dirt

    Three hours of sleep hadn¡¯t nearly been enough. Nevertheless, that¡¯s what I got before waking up and trying to get myself back into virtual reality. Upon reaching the Continue Online portal I was greeted with a black screen and pop-up boxes.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    [Worlds Collide] merger results!

    Play time calculated. Preference for a fleshy meat sack has been noted. Continue Online character established as primary. Changes resulting from a merger of two characters are being summarized and displayed.

    [Energy] attribute not found on primary avatar. All abilities in Advance which used [Energy] can now use [Mana]. [Enlarged Power Source] converted to increased [Mana] pool and regeneration.

    [Power Suit], [Camouflage Program], [Anchor], [Material Conversion], and [Mechanical Minion] abilities localized and added. [Combat Program] (Loadout storage) already exists. Prior weapon patterns imported.

    Redundancy in [Gait of Bowman] resolved. Equipping this item now adds one rank to skills instead of providing passive access.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The list went on. Only a few of the highlights showed, but it looked like the game had tried to stack all the old [Mechanoid] abilities on top of my prior Continue ones. [Brawn], [Endurance], [Tenacity] and a few other character points had gone up. I shook my head. What did any of this matter to me this close to the end? I mean, [Anchor] might have some uses.

    Maybe it would matter more to other people. There had to be a few out there who played multiple games and would now see it all collapse together into some strange character. I felt shaky at the idea of super powered people attacking sword wielding warriors from Continue Online.

    Running on three hours of sleep didn¡¯t help. I poked at the messages and watched them pop away. Nothing new took their place. I glanced about. This area looked like the room of trials, or at least it felt like that room. Only there was no one around at all.

    ¡°Hello?¡± My voice echoed off objects I couldn¡¯t see.

    I walked forward quickly in hopes of gaining anyone¡¯s attention. After a few footsteps, the brightness changed from its pure dark shroud and gained a few spots of light. There were people in the distance facing away from each other. Their mouths moved but only quiet words came out.

    This place didn¡¯t scare me anymore. I full out ran, but the speed of my virtual travel didn¡¯t close the gap any faster. In the distance I could make out Xin, standing next to Treasure and Jeeves. My wife¡¯s face twisted with an unheard shout. The two [Mechanoid]s looked slightly perturbed but otherwise focused on objects in front of them.

    Xin¡¯s body swayed to one side. Their forms shook briefly. Fire flared then died down. Maybe they were stuck in a weird event, or maybe I had been captured by a mental ability that caused me to lose perspective.

    The actual reason didn¡¯t matter. Standing still did no good. It took me years to figure out that. Xin had told me to move forward and not look back. Doctor Litt constantly reminded me to tackle one problem at a time. Both were mantras to fall back on. I kept running, eager to get to them and help.

    A slow motion [Messenger¡¯s Pet] bounded by. His body looked sleeker than normal. Like someone had pulled Dusk¡¯s tail to nearly double its normal length. His merger between the two game worlds struck me as weird.

    I started checking out my own body while running. There were no obvious changes or glowing metal bits like my [Mechanoid] form. Joints and fingers all looked perfectly flesh covered. A series of lines ran from my chest out toward each limb. The edges of them could be seen under my toga and sandal wrappings. They pulsed like a painted or tattooed version of malachite.

    My abilities weren¡¯t responding out here at all. Distance toward the ship steadily shrunk. I kept my eyes on the others while calling out frequently. No one responded. The trio was fixated on pressing interface buttons. How Xin knew what to do in the spaceship was beyond me, but she had training, I didn¡¯t.

    The world of darkness chimed. My body froze and nothing responded. I hung mid-stride in that moment when the earth below was pushed away but before gravity pulled me back down. It felt almost like flying without the exertion of wings.

    Echoing footsteps slowly came up behind and traveled to the front. The large black man who had first guided me upon entry to this world stopped slightly to my left. His head tilted to one side while both hands clasped over a large belly.

    ¡°Are you sure about this, Hermes?¡± He looked at me and raised an eyebrow, then turned to look at the trio frozen in a staged mockery of the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] interior.

    I tried to nod but neck muscles didn¡¯t work. In the ship''s rear cockpit my Hermes avatar laid prone on the ground. The form gradually grew closer regardless of being frozen.

    ¡°Think about the question before you answer,¡± James said with an infuriating smile on his cheeks. ¡°Think long and hard, Hermes, because there are things in life which cannot be undone. Not by you, not by me, not by Mother, and not by your Gods.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± The sound of my voice startled me. Who was he to warn me about repercussions? I knew exactly how final life could be at times.

    James looked troubled but faded into the blackness. The world sped into high gear. Gravity pulled my gut down as I fell into the prone body ahead with a startled yell.

    Dryness plagued my throat. Both arms itched madly. A metallic ringing filled one ear as the world tried to tilt sideways.

    Our ship rocked as something slammed into us. I tried to focus on the screens being displayed. The blue bar tied to our ship¡¯s hull looked terribly low. One of the walls had dents from the outside.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I managed to mumble. The marred wall bothered me. [Mechanoid] vehicles were normally smoothly designed, to the point of absurd precision. A dent felt wrong.

    Dusk chirped from overhead. Nails scrambled along the metal as he jumped to my shoulder. The longer tail wrapped around my neck and felt almost familiar. I pulled at his limb slightly to loosen the pressure. This body was human, not [Mechanoid]. Being throttled by my [Messenger¡¯s Pet] might be fitting, but ill-timed.

    ¡°Welcome to consciousness, Unit Hermes,¡± Treasure said while pressing fingers at the air. She looked to be scanning the area for life forms. There were a dozen small red dots floating in front of her with status markers, health bars, and power readings.

    ¡°Gee! Quick! Grab onto something!¡± Xin turned and yelled at me.

    I reached out for the back of her chair but stumbled as our ship rocked again.

    ¡°People from the other world!¡± Xin shouted then winced. That expression was one I recalled too well. The [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] had never been known for sound absorption. ¡°They¡¯re attacking us.¡±

    ¡°I must confess, this is all very strange,¡± Jeeves said carefully. ¡°We were flying through the outer reaches looking for your distress beacon then found ourselves here on a planet. Our engines are not optimized for these atmospheric conditions.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you got into this mess,¡± I said with more calm than expected.

    Xin tilted the vessel to one side and my most recent meal threatened to return to the surface. One foot braced against the back of his chair. Dusk gulped as we righted ourselves quickly. I missed zero gravity space fights.

    Jeeves calmly kept talking as if these antics meant nothing. After our combat in space together, maybe it was mundane. I checked the readouts for a giant spaceship pursuing us or some beast from the stars, but there was nothing.

    ¡°Most of our race has already escaped, but we did not wish to leave anyone behind, especially not in light of your efforts to save two full Consortiums.¡±

    I felt a range of emotions that couldn¡¯t be sorted out in a few seconds. My efforts to reduce the loss of NPC life while in Advance Online had played certainly been paid back by simply getting us away from all those [World Eater]s. However, it had also endangered two lives that I had already considered saved.

    ¡°If you have a wild plan, Unit Hermes, now would be the time,¡± Treasure said. Her shoulders dropped and eyes barely flickered with a golden light.

    For a moment I wondered if Mother might be looking out at us through an avatar again, only that would have been impossible. The long gut wound had finally reached an end. We were in the aftermath of her passing now. An image of Yates¡¯ form screaming while being bathed in a golden light hit me and for a second, I felt dizzy.

    The ship rocked while my wife cussed under her breath.

    ¡°Can we use a Recall scroll, or take the death and get to our bind point?¡± I asked. We were flying through a forest of some sort. Ahead of us loomed giant mountains. Our vessel, despite being a space ship, didn¡¯t move fast enough. People in capes paced on either side. Their arms held out in front as rings of energy pulsed into us.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! We¡¯re in combat!¡± Xin tried to control her shouting. Her hand reached up and slapped at buttons on the ceiling. I didn¡¯t recognize any of them. Laser beams flew out toward the two people in capes that were flying by.

    A huge chunk of rock from below was hurled in our direction. I glanced at Treasure¡¯s screen. She had a close up of a small cluster of players. One large being of rock and earth lifted his arms. A piece of earth floated in front, responding to the person''s call.

    ¡°Is that a Behemoth?¡± I had time to ask before the latest attack hit us.

    Our ship tilted forward. The display windows flickered out. Xin¡¯s body slammed into the framework of our ship.

    ¡°We cannot compact for a crash landing with human beings in here,¡± Treasure said then sighed.

    ¡°It seems we¡¯re crashing regardless,¡± Jeeves responded in both a male and female tone.

    ¡°Unit Hermes, do you have a method to descend safely?¡± Treasure sounded remarkably calm. Her tired voice overpowered the sweet tones. ¡°We¡¯re not configured to soften the blow for flesh bound creatures.¡±

    ¡°Babe!¡± I yelled at my wife. The noise echoed and I wanted to break down the walls.

    At last glance, we had been high and the ground was coming closer. There were enemies outside. My [Mechanical Hades Crown] didn¡¯t have enough souls to empower Dusk or [Blink]. We didn¡¯t have a metal glider. I could try [Material Conversion] but now wasn¡¯t the time to experiment.

    ¡°Gee.¡± Xin¡¯s body slid backward as we picked up speed. Dusk chirped in confusion next to my ear while both arms wrapped around my wife.

    ¡°Rear door,¡± I tried not to shout and almost succeeded.

    Treasure nodded then pressed a button in front of her. The metal behind me slid open as our vehicle¡¯s wall shifted to a new form. Jeeves looked in my direction with a muted expression of worry that made both its eyebrows wrinkle together. I tried to bunch my legs and put in strength to the jump.

    We briefly hung as the [Wayfarer¡¯s Hope] started to turn into a metal ball. My heart thumped rapidly as gravity asserted itself. The world spun, Xin¡¯s robe flapped against the wind while air chilled my legs. [Awareness Heightening] kicked in causing both our perceptions and reactions to be amplified.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I yelled. Force along with sharp tiny nails dug into my shoulder putting a new spin on our flailing fall. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] squawked while getting his wings working. I looked at the enemies between each spin.

    Both capes were sitting together. They were Travelers who had shot down our ship with the help of the people below. Both wore ugly matching red and black colors with ribbon like capes that dangled to their feet.

    ¡°Get ready!¡± I [Blink]ed us out of our fall and toward the nearest stable looking platform.

    ¡°Teleporter!¡± the person yelled out as our combined weight collided with his back.

    My wife¡¯s hands were free, whereas mine were busy holding her close. She pulled the weapon out of inventory and quickly used it as an anchor around the flying man¡¯s neck. I slipped down but managed to get a grip onto her robe.

    ¡°Hold on!¡± The other player put both arms out, touched his wrists together then started to fire off a bolt of energy. Dusk¡¯s dog sized form flew in, wildly scratching which threw off the person¡¯s aim. Nails clawed at his face as he started screaming.

    My head tilted backward to watch the struggle above. Bare, wildly kicking legs greeted me for a long second before we started falling again. The man¡¯s body pulled back as his flight powers sent us into another end over end fall. Xin twisted her staff to one side and changed our course to be a bit smoother.

    I tried to calmly count out the cool down for [Blink] as we fell. The ground approached fast and my hands were starting to slip. [Blink]¡¯s cooldown ended and I tried to estimate our direction and speed. My body vanished then appeared front of a crashing super powered player. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] appeared in my hand with a quick [Recall] and stabbed out in slow motion.

    Xin¡¯s body fumbled into mine. The staff smacked into my head. I grunted through the feedback and grabbed her wrist. Screams and ripping clothing filled the air. Liquid pooled upon my arm from the recent opening I had provided. We slipped down then [Blink] went off for a second time, aiming us closer to the ground.

    We appeared a few feet higher than expected and inertia carried us straight toward a bank of trees. [Power Armor] flickered on prior to the collision but barely helped. Air shot out while pain rippled up my back. Xin¡¯s eyes went wide. Our sideways motion turned into a fall toward the earth. I twisted my back to try and keep Xin¡¯s body above mine.

    The flailing half spin failed and we hit hard. Knee met broken tree stump. Teeth bit into my tongue. I rolled the last few feet with Xin¡¯s body in my arms while gasping in pain.

    ¡°Arggh,¡± I cried out as the wound truly started to register. Gut muscles clenched wildly and my lungs burned for air. I lay there, huffing, trying not to let the ARC feedback win. ¡°Stupid, event.¡± The words ground out.

    Xin scrambled to get up and looked around. I took the slow route, inching myself up using a tree and trying to keep weight off the damaged leg. My wife¡¯s fingers rapidly typed away at an invisible keyboard.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hecate: Ambushed out here. Anyone on the other side of the mountains?

    Shadow: Maybe. We¡¯re in combat. Do you have a location?

    Hecate: Look for the crashed spaceship.

    Awesome Jr.: Spaceship? That¡¯s awesome.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The first super powered flyer landed on the ground. The second still fought Dusk. I curled my fingers together around [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and tried to imagine the Gatling gun from Advance Online.

    Light flared as the weapon shifted into a completely inappropriate form for the fantasy basis. I looked down while rocking my head. [Worlds Collide] would only get weirder.

    ¡°Back up!¡± I shouted to my wife who had lifted the staff in front of her. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] batted huge wings in the black and red costumed fighter¡¯s face.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Xin turned while wearing a look that bordered between livid and perplexed.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.¡°Dusk! Clear!¡± I needed him get away. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] dove to one side. He hadn¡¯t even glanced back.

    My finger pressed the trigger and the confusion of using old abilities hit me. Low humming built to a greater pitch as the gun warmed up quickly. Do people wearing vaguely Greek styled clothes get to use high power weapons from the far future? My musings didn¡¯t matter. A stream of golden lasers flew out toward the other caped hero, reducing his life and my mana bar to zero.

    I kept pumping the trigger for a few more blasts. The weapon shimmered then return to a two-handed sword which I slung over one shoulder. Xin wasted no time stomping over to the first man. I limped after ready with the normal version of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. The man¡¯s body lay there, completely defeated. Apparently the crash, or being stabbed by my dagger, had ended his virtual life.

    ¡°Jerk!¡± Xin yelled at the defeated corpse. She jabbed down the staff¡¯s end into his body repeatedly. ¡°The world¡¯s falling apart and you idiots are still chasing tokens!¡±

    I didn¡¯t know if the best option would be to hold my wife back then try to calm her down, or join in the desecration.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re out there and can see your failure!¡± she shouted at the sky while shaking a fist. Xin spat at the corpse then stormed off.

    Indecision had left me standing there with one hand held midair. I grasped at nothing while trying to figure out how to digest what just transpired. The pain in my knee didn¡¯t help. Xin¡¯s eyes went wide and she actually paused, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and looked down.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize to me.¡± We could have easily taken a less aggressive route by [Blink]ing to the ground and hiding out instead. This whole confrontation had been spurred on by me, but this event didn¡¯t give us a lot of room to play nice with some Travelers. ¡°I think he deserved it.¡±

    Xin shook her head then started touching runes to summon skeletons. She formed four of them, an increase over the old limit of three.

    ¡°Come on. There¡¯s more nearby,¡± she sounded grim.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Shadow: Are you fighting someone who uses lasers?

    Hermes: If they were gold, it was me.

    Awesome Jr.: Lasers?!?

    HotPants: Don¡¯t even say it, Junior.

    Awesome Jr.: But it is¡­it totally is.

    Hermes: We¡¯re okay for the moment. The wife¡¯s on a warpath, though, so look for a string of bodies.

    Hecate: They shot down the first actual spaceship I¡¯ve flown in years! JERKS.

    Awesome Jr.: Use those potions I gave you.

    Hermes: Okay.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I paused for a moment and brought up the player interface. Items were stored away in virtual bags, which was harder to access during combat. I liked keeping both weapons physical, while items like our [Honeymoon Suite] stayed in the form of two-dimensional boxes to press.

    Potions were useful but also annoying. They rarely returned full health or actually fixed the damage. Instead, they vaguely healed people by removing the pain and increasing our life points. Not that those mattered half the time in this game, people died quickly, like those two heroes we had just fought. They must have been low level, or rank, or whatever Progress Online used to track stats.

    Even after chugging two potions the weakness in my crushed kneecap didn¡¯t go away. I would need a real healing spell or rest. Even then it depended on my other character statistics. Hopefully, we had time to get back into perfect shape. I panicked and tried to figure out how long sleep had put me out for.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the edge of the collapse?¡± I asked Xin, but she had already wandered out of sight. Eyes drifted toward a distant looking moon that showed even in [Arcadia]¡¯s daytime. It looked to be almost one third completely gone, and the rest was showing signs of strain.

    Calculations ran through my mind as I tried to figure out if we were on a curve or not. If I used the current progression of a decaying moon as a timepiece, we had maybe two days left. Maybe a little more, or less, depending on acceleration as mass vanished. Hourglasses went quickest at the end.

    There wasn¡¯t enough time for me to sit in the woods and wonder which mathematical formula could be applied to the moon for proper measure. I limped carefully after my wife and kept both weapons ready.

    A stray twig stuck in Xin¡¯s hair. The small layers of makeup she wore were smudged. Nothing else stood out. My efforts to keep her body from suffering the brunt of gravity must have worked, or maybe it was part of whatever bonus she got for gliding longer.

    [Binding of Hymenaios] benefited us greatly. [Partner Sense] let me know the direction Xin was in. I caught up with her crouching form then activated [Camouflage] and took delight in seeing Xin''s image blur. Now that the ability was passive, and not granted by my boots, she could share in the effects.

    We sat up on a ridge of sorts overlooking a small valley. Brown and green colors melded our forms into the surrounding landscape. On the valley¡¯s far ridge were large mountains. I checked my map and confirmed that [Haven Valley] lay past their peaks.

    Below, an army of people fought each other. Giant constructs battled an army of alien beings. Two snarling werewolf looking beasts were in the process of fighting a man with three swords, one of which sat clenched between his teeth. Mixed in between them sat a smattering of [World Eater]s, but they looked to be few in number. Travelers had been fighting all over [Arcadia] since this event started.

    I kept scanning the area. Xin¡¯s arm patted mine and she pointed in the distance. Jeeves and Treasure were on a side of the valley. They were both hunkered down behind a gleaming barricade that had been molded from their crashed ship. A dozen small [World Eater]s were fighting with red named players. I prayed they would take each other out and leave the [Mechanoid]s alone. Jeeves lobbed a small orb overhead. It exploded into a dozen smaller pellets then those came crashing down causing a cascade of explosions.

    Nearby were a player and NPC overlooking the mess below. The shorter figure, who was maybe three feet tall, had his arms crossed while frowning. Xin and I spied upon the pair from another row up.

    The faces were recognizable. King Nero stood in the middle of them. He still preferred the minimalist look despite his worn bearing. My mouth opened and I held very still.

    ¡°They¡¯re all destroying each other. Just like you wanted. Minimal effort, maximum reward. That¡¯s what I always say,¡± the short man said. He cupped both hands together and shouted at a towering bulk of green rock who was bombarding Jeeves from a distance. ¡°Get them, MrJohnson!¡±

    ¡°The darkness has been loosed upon this world. Our foolish daughters have already been lost to it, and all that we have left is the joy of helping you kill your own kind.¡± The king of a fallen city nodded. To my knowledge, most of his territory lay in ruins from [World Eater]s.

    ¡°You¡¯re messed up, you know that?¡± TheLittleMan said. The short Advance Online player stood next to him while kicked rocks down toward the valley below.

    I tapped Dusk, who sat on his haunches watching the battle below. My fingers pointed at the green earth [Behemoth] from Advance Online. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] tilted and an image of crossed swords clashing against each other appeared.

    ¡°Cupcakes?¡± I whispered.

    Dusk nodded then took off. I fumbled around with the interface to figure out how to activate [Mechanical Minion]s in Continue, but there was a [Lithium] chant required.

    Further below in the valley the battle raged. A flicker of human shape crossed our line of sight. The form arced in like a meteor or thrown rock crashing to earth. Dirt went up in a rapidly formed cloud. Metal reflections flashed as a giant hammer that almost dwarfed [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] started laying waste upon the gathered players.

    My jaw hung open. That stance looked familiar to me, after a month and more traveling next to her and learning how to use [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] against various beasts, I knew those moves. Shazam was demolishing the other people without regard.

    Fingers slowly typed at the keyboard to send a quiet message to her. The whirling mess of destruction stopped. Shazam looked down and almost frowned.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hermes: I thought you didn¡¯t like player vs player.

    Shazam: I don¡¯t.

    Hermes: Well your guys are kicking ass. That¡¯s your guild, right?

    Shazam: Yes. They¡¯re irate. Where are you?

    Shadow: With me, we¡¯re up top. Don¡¯t jump, Hermes.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I stared at the messages being sent back and forth. Both eyes closed to ping the area with [Sight of Mercari]. No dots revealed where Shadow was, so maybe he had mistaken our location for another one.

    The young man¡¯s grim looking face slowly appeared. He waved once with a hand while staring at the two below. I blinked and tried to figure out what level of [Stealth] type skills he would need to avoid [Sight of Mercari]. There weren¡¯t any other obvious people next to us, but maybe the entire League of Shadows had decided to arrive in the bushes somewhere.

    ¡°How long did you want to do this? I need to cash out sooner or later,¡± TLM said. I tried to remember more about him, other than being quick and underhanded, nothing stuck out.

    ¡°It will all be over soon.¡± King Nero looked up from the valley and stared at the moon. He clearly had come to the same conclusion I did. The decay rate of [Arcadia], or whatever strange merger we had become, was tied displayed by the celestial body overhead.

    ¡°You¡¯re still the craziest NPC I¡¯ve seen. Most of them cashed out as quick as you please. All that¡¯s left anymore are stragglers and the desperate.¡±

    King Nero pulled the sword from his belt and tried to strike TLM in the back of his head. TLM managed to react quick enough that the blow only hit his face. The short player still fell.

    ¡°Hey crazy! I¡¯m on your side!¡± TLM groaned through broken teeth.

    ¡°Rest assured, your opinion matters very little to us,¡± he said over the fallen player. King Nero huffed while bringing down his sword on TheLittleMan¡¯s head.

    ¡°Fucking NPCs!¡± the player cried out as his health bar obliterated.

    I lifted [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] up and prepared myself to fight the mad king. There was zero chance he would let me walk away, not when his prior punishment had been undone before full [Redemption] points could be achieved. In his eyes, I would still be a criminal.

    I inched forward. The damaged knee gave way sending me slipping down. I panicked and worried about getting a message telling me how badly the brief fall had been.

    ¡°You!¡± King Nero snapped with wild eyes and a bead of sweat dripped down his face. ¡°Don¡¯t think you can hide! I can always smell a criminal!¡± He lifted the sword in my direction then snarled. I tried to figure out how the man could see me through [Camouflage]. Slipping shouldn¡¯t have been enough at this Rank. Was preparing my weapons too aggressive?

    King Nero took two steps forward then paused. His eyes crossed as a sword of bone sprouted out of his chest. Xin¡¯s giant skeleton construct rippled as green leaves turned into faded white bone. The creature¡¯s free arm lifted with a second smaller sword.

    ¡°What?¡± I exclaimed while freezing up. My eyes closed to ping the area again. There were no players nearby aside from Xin and Shadow.

    My wife turned slightly and said, ¡°We share abilities, remember?¡±

    My confused gaze turned back toward the impaled NPC. King Nero¡¯s body bent sideways. The second blade sliced harmlessly over his head. He fell the floor gasping for breath as Xin walked out of the bushes to the fallen Local. The bone sword still pierced straight through. His hands grasped at its edges.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been saving something special for you, King Nero,¡± Xin said while getting closer. She smiled and for a moment, I truly worried that this whole situation had driven my wife off the deep end.

    Shadow apparently didn¡¯t care in the slightest. The young man melted from view and I watched as fading footsteps headed toward the battlefield below. There were monsters and players fighting each other. I couldn¡¯t even bring myself to type out a message of thanks.

    King Nero¡¯s mouth overflowed with blood. The jaw muscles opened and closed as he tried to get words out but failed. Bubbles gurgled up. My wife knelt closer to him, uncaring about the small bits of blood that made it to her robe.

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± my voice shook slightly. The idea of either one of us outright murdering a helpless NPC bothered me, despite everything we had been through.

    ¡°Kill him, eventually,¡± she said.

    ¡°Do we need to?¡± I asked. Torturing anyone felt wrong. Even the one player I had mocked before beheading them bothered me for days afterward.

    Xin¡¯s form spun around as she pointed back at the defeated royalty. ¡°He put you in prison, Gee! He sent you to that undead pit and trapped you there for trying to bring me to this world! He led Travelers from Earth all across Arcadia to hurt each other for revenge! This man is evil!¡±

    Xin was right when she listed off his crimes. What might have happened if we hadn¡¯t needed to rush like that toward [Haven Valley]? The man clearly was out to get us too.

    ¡°He¡¯s-¡± my words drifted off. What was I going to say, that he¡¯s just programmed that way? That he wasn¡¯t the only person who came back from the dead? Could I really dare to utter such hollow justification while staring at the computer version of my wife?

    Xin shook her tiny head slowly but didn¡¯t look at me. She spoke more to the ground than my face.

    ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to be a killer,¡± she said while turning around. Her head tilted down and the one staff sat across both knees. ¡°I know that¡¯s not who you are, but I am. You remember that test the Voices gave you? Once, during training, they gave me the same scenario, kill one person to save another. I made a choice without hesitation.¡±

    I knew about those training scenarios. She had done dozens of them in preparation for space. My lips were dry and throat felt sore. This digital world was exhausting at times, especially after battles like this one. I felt so detached, drained, and wished desperately to be somewhere else. Every single other option would have been away from my wife which meant that there really wasn¡¯t an alternative at all.

    ¡°If, if it helps, King Nero will live on, and make it to the portal with everyone else. He¡¯ll just be a little different than others.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said slowly. ¡°Do what you need to.¡±

    Xin leaned in as outstretched fingertips glowed the same white as her dress'' runes. I walked away while King Nero screamed. My mind tried to rationalize life and the depths to which we sunk in order to progress.

    The battle below had been ended violently in favor of [Valhalla Knights]. Shazam stood in the midst of a defeated pack of Travelers from multiple games, dripping in blood and completely emotionless despite being a picture of carnage. A massive hammer that didn¡¯t look anything like the prior one rested over her shoulder.

    A few minutes later the former king¡¯s screams died down. We walked toward Shazam and Shadow, who were busy clearing the battlefield of anything useful. Xin¡¯s listless body slumped into mine and my knee hurt.

    King Nero, recently turned into a literal ghost of his former self, silently glided along behind us. I would have called it neat, were it not for the fact that a dying man had been used in the process. Chains around his arms and legs left no signs to follow our trail.

 Book 5 - Together; Session 104 â€“ [Save] the Last Dance

    Jeeves and Treasure were both damaged but functional. They salvaged parts from the ship. The extra metal worked for both repairs and helped build a few makeshift sleds to carry wounded. Scaling the mountain pass was fairly easy after that. Only the slight pain in my knee made us slow down. Along the way, a few straggling Locals and Travelers joined us. Our small army trudged through the mountain pass in less than half a day.

    People cheered or grumbled. Shazam rode at the head of her pack. Dusk looked unperturbed. His body bounced up and down happily. I stared at him, then at the city far away. It looked a lot different than I remembered it. None of the old landmarks were showing. Even the former Parthenon style building which had overlooked [Haven Valley] was missing.

    We traveled straight down into the valley and toward the pillar of light. Shazam and her guild parted with us at the wall. People logged off, autopilots started cleaning up gear or working on the buildings. Xin, the [Mechanoid]s and I waited in line along with thousands of other people.

    The town itself had been reduced to an ever growing wall and very little privacy. Tents littered the area along with some bits of livestock which were being used to feed those who stayed behind. Players were scrambling to take out what few monsters appeared almost regularly. They were being controlled and slowed their rate of occurrence.

    I knew why, as did anyone who watched my feed. They weren¡¯t appearing in town as much anymore because they all started spawning at that edge of the destroyed planet. They focused solely upon tearing down the edges instead of bursting through the seams.

    ¡°Thank you for saving us, and don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but I¡¯m glad you¡¯re going,¡± I said to the [Mechanoid]s as we neared the line¡¯s end. ¡°You two deserve to be somewhere safe.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you do not require additional assistance, Unit Hermes?¡± Jeeves asked me. ¡°Death of a shell poses little threat.¡±

    I stared at my friend. He looked almost normal amid a sea of players from all the different games. Lots of people were in the process of checking out, and the line moved a lot quicker since the release of Mother¡¯s form. Yates, despite his gibberish, had been right.

    ¡°If you stay here, there¡¯s no second chances or returning to the home world.¡± I turned away from my friend¡¯s iron pyrite colors and stared upwards. The beam went on. ¡°But through there, you¡¯ll be safe. Over there are the Shores of Ohm, the rest of your people, and much more.¡±

    By all the Voices I would do my damnedest to ensure their safety. Only one ARC needed to remain active, and I needed to make sure none of those [World Eater]s made it through. I had no idea what process allowed me, as a human, to fight a program that deleted data. If that was the solution, then so be it.

    ¡°Will you be joining us?¡± Jeeves asked.

    My head shook slowly. ¡°Sorry, Old Souls like me have a different journey ahead.¡±

    Xin stood nearby with a tired look. Her mind was elsewhere, directing the ghost of King Nero and her white skeleton army remotely against various attackers. I envied her ability to control monsters from a distance that allowed her to stay safe.

    ¡°I do not understand.¡± Jeeves¡¯ metallic eyebrows touched together and the golden color flared briefly. ¡°Your partner is an Old Soul, and she can cross over.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s very unique. There are only two people like her in all of these realities,¡± I said while giving my wife a sideways hug. She gave an absent smile.

    Other players nearby gave us weird looks upon hearing the conversation. The group in front of me had two Travelers, one of which stared at me with wrinkled eyebrows. I didn¡¯t let their confused gawking throw me off.

    Our spot in line came up next and the moment of separation was upon us. Jeeves had been my friend, first as a part of Hal Pal¡¯s consortium, then as a fellow player in space. We had saved each other¡¯s virtual lives more than once. I had very few real friends anymore, which made the parting harder.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a pleasure, Jeeves,¡± I said.

    ¡°Thank you for everything, Unit Hermes,¡± it responded.

    ¡°Farewell then, Unit Hermes. Until we meet again.¡± Treasure waved at us then led Jeeves off. They walked through the bricked double sized passageway to the [Save Yourself] location. Two guards on either side closed the doors. I blinked a few times but managed to keep my head up.

    We stood there as the beam pulsed rapidly. Four minutes later a set of colors spiraled upward swiftly. Gold mixed with silver for Treasure, iron and gold represented Jeeves. There were other colors representing the two Travelers that had checked out of their virtual lives as well.

    ¡°Next!¡± Wyl bellowed while waving dismissively at me. He was one of the few city guards that remained behind. Many had left with their families. NPCs were growing increasingly scarce despite an ongoing stream of refugees. The line moved around us as a trio of players stepped in next.

    ¡°What now, babe?¡± I asked my wife. ¡°Are you ready to go?¡±

    Her eyes lost their glazed look then found focus. She smiled and brushed back a strand of hair. The faint expression on her face stole my breath.

    ¡°Not without you,¡± she said then yawned. Her head shook. ¡°We¡¯re married now, you don¡¯t get to escape.¡±

    I gave a wounded chuckle. The statement hurt. We weren¡¯t going together, and I wasn¡¯t about to let her stay behind to suffer whatever fate awaited the AIs who didn¡¯t make it. [World Eater]s would likely find her and rip my wife¡¯s body apart.

    The mental image made me sick. I swallowed as the taste of salt grew. My third use of the [NPC Conspiracy] should protect Xin no matter what happened. In the end, that was what mattered.

    ¡°I ain¡¯t going. The geezer wouldn¡¯t want me to,¡± A young voice cracked behind me. Recognition made me turn around.

    ¡°Hey, Phil, Mylia. How are you two doing?¡± I smiled and waved at the thin looking woman and young man. She wore a blue scarf around her head and a faded apron. Near her feet was a gaggle of children all clamoring for her attention.

    ¡°See!¡± Phil jumped on my presence immediately. He had grown a few inches again and showed signs of a faint beard trying to form. ¡°Hermes would agree with me! We can¡¯t leave her behind.¡±

    Phil¡¯s urgent tone worried me. There were a ton of children around but the number looked wrong. A few might be missing. I scanned the nearby city. Most of the buildings had been knocked down or were repurposed.

    ¡°Is this everyone?¡± I asked while looking around. There were a few missing.

    ¡°Everyone who¡¯s left,¡± Mylia said.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to look for her!¡±

    ¡°Come back here!¡± Mylia¡¯s voice kicked up a notch and the other children around her cringed. Most were younger than Phil, but a few were older. They tried to help out by preventing toddlers from chasing after Phil¡¯s fleeing form.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Trying, again, to get them to safety.¡± The orphanage mother lifted up one of her hand wraps from the apron and pressed at beads of sweat. ¡°Here we¡¯ve been next to the only port in a storm and these littles refuse to go.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t want to go. It¡¯s scary. No one ever comes back,¡± a young one said. Other children joined in protest. Even the older kids cast worried glances around.

    ¡°It¡¯s safer, but maybe I can help you out.¡± My face broke into a smile. We had some time before the world ended, and I wanted to feel happy about something. ¡°How about a treat and story before you go? One I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve heard before!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve heard all the stories,¡± one of the older children proclaimed. ¡°Mister Carver told us alllll of them.¡±

    ¡°I know you¡¯ve heard a lot.¡± I started naming the tales from my time as Carver. Their heads bobbed while Mylia stared at me. Her expression grew increasingly confused as the conversation went on. ¡°Then I think I know a new one.¡±

    We stood there obstructing the line while the youngsters looked hopeful. People started going around us. The orphans were eager to hear something new. Maybe they missed the routine. How long had it been since William Carver stopped coming by to tell his tales?

    ¡°What is it, mister?¡± a child asked.

    ¡°A tale of a brave old warrior, an army of monsters, and his friends'' secret plans to save the world.¡±

    ¡°Like the monsters coming for us?¡± another child sputtered nervously.

    ¡°Just like them.¡± I nodded very seriously. ¡°What do you think, Miss Jacobs? Can I tell them a good story?¡±

    I had their attention. Xin pulled out the treats. She had a ton and I suspected she used cupcakes to bribe Dusk into liking her more. My story flubbed by as I tried to boil down the recent adventures into a story worthy of children. I didn¡¯t use names, but instead called them the Great Hero, Magic Smith, and Wise Man. The names were a bit spur of the moment, but Mylia¡¯s gaggle of children didn¡¯t care.

    In my version the three divined [Arcaria]¡¯s future. They saw a looming darkness that would eat away at the world and took steps to save the land they loved so dearly. They crafted, and snuck around the globe, planting down secrets spells of [Lithium] and great artifacts that would give them the strength to open a new path to freedom.

    When I told the tale they didn¡¯t die. I didn¡¯t explain to them Carver¡¯s last stand or M. Shell¡¯s body burned out upon a throne. The image of Yates screaming as light enveloped him was too much for children, at least in my mind. I told the tale of how each one completed their tasks and at the end, their bodies faded away into the stars as they transformed into something more than human.

    ¡°And as they passed,¡± I tried to conclude my tale as Carver might have. ¡°They made sure that everyone else had a way to safety, somewhere the monsters couldn¡¯t get them.¡±

    ¡°Like the portal,¡± a tired-looking girl said. She had to be twelve with huge bags under her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re saying right? That Mister Carver made this for us?¡±

    ¡°He did. He and his friends. And I know another secret.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve met a kind Voice who will help you on the other side. Do you know Maud? A tall, stern looking woman?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve seen her statue,¡± a child said. Others mumbled and gave varying descriptions that all sounded like the Voice I had met. Most notable was the attitude and cloven feet.

    ¡°Well I¡¯ve met her, and she¡¯s been learning to become a really good dancer. I¡¯ll bet she¡¯ll dance with anyone who asks,¡± I poked at one of the young ones and tried to smile happily. Luckily the child responded with a delighted giggle.

    That put smiles on their faces, some anyway. Others looked doubtful. Some were lost in thought. I tried not to get sucked into my own thoughts from before. How old would our child have been? I looked at Xin and frowned only briefly. My wife kept her face flat then blinked once and tried not to look sad.

    ¡°Thank you, Mister Hermes. That was a very good story,¡± the orphan caretaker said. She looked more worn than last time. I remembered a small army of children in her building and now there were only ten. More than one person had gone missing. [World Eater]s might have gotten some.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Mylia.¡± I looked at the crowd of children. They were all rubbing their eyes. My story must have been extremely boring. The evening wasn¡¯t that close yet. ¡°You should get going, and escape yourself while it¡¯s still peaceful.¡±

    ¡°I intend to stay and fight,¡± she said. ¡°But first, I better get them through before they change their minds. Then I¡¯ll have to ask some Travelers if they can help me find the other littles.¡±

    I nodded as Mylia pushed past me and started herding the crowd off. She walked by slowly. My eyes followed after her and I wondered if the real William Carver would have approved of being turned into a story. Xin held my hand while leaning toward me.

    ¡°Get going!¡± I whispered to one of the stragglers. The small child giggled then toddled off after the group.

    A few hours later I stood alone at a high vantage point. The isolation helped me sort my thoughts. Plus from up here I could try to find out where Phil had gone. Xin walked around the town, clearly exhausted but still trying to help build barricades and fight off monsters. She kept an eye out too.

    Travelers and Locals alike were arriving in droves. The beam of light flashed steadily every four minutes as a group of people vanished with [Save Yourself]. Once again the idea of picking up Xin and throwing her into the room crossed my mind. It would hurt her, but that felt like an increasingly small price to play.

    The stars northward of the crumbling moon were gone. The absence of a virtual world loomed. There were no feelings of being watched or amusement like in the room of trials. Only emptiness existed over there. It crept ever closer.

    ¡°The sky is falling,¡± I muttered. ¡°The sky is falling.¡±

    Dusk chirped once next to me. The two of us stood in a giant tower set up by [Valhalla Knights] and many other players. It spiraled into the air twenty stories and served as a lookout. [Haven Valley] lay below. Giant walls had been torn down and rebuilt dozens of times in the last few months of game time.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°This is the end, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked without expecting a response. Dusk chirped a long low note that wavered on its end.

    My wife was below, arguing with Travelers who kept crowding each other. Many were trying to execute [Save Yourself], but doing so pushed Locals out of line. I watched her for a moment, ready to leap down and remove them myself. My almost pure golden [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] twisted under a hand.

    Xin¡¯s death had been a nightmare that haunted every aspect of my life for years. Waking up each weekend in an empty bed had been chased by a flurry of emotions. Stillness usually was the first impulse. Part of me dared hope that if I held myself aloft from the reality I could slip back into the real world where Xin had never been in a train accident. Following that were body quakes that could have been anger, rage, or denial.

    Seeing that twinkling beam of light and the crumbling world in the distance felt like every waking nightmare of my life coming together in a haunting recreation of past hells. The theme had changed to a fantasy world with video game boxes, but death approached. Having lost her once, I vowed never to let that happen again.

    But I needed space to think as well. Years of crushing solitude had formed a pattern where being alone helped me formulate a plan. At the very least I had time to break down in private where no one needed to suffer from my insecurities.

    ¡°Uncle Grant?¡± Beth¡¯s light tone came from the stairs behind me.

    I peered over my shoulder in her direction. Beth sat in her leather clothes with that sharp thin looking sword tucked under a belt. Once again I felt she showed far too much skin, but the young woman wasn¡¯t ten anymore. My gaze went back toward the horizon and crumbling moon.

    ¡°Are you going to save yourself? Everyone else is rushing to do so.¡± She walked closer to the edge and peered over. Beth¡¯s hand lifted to brush back strands of hair. Her thin arms were far more tanned here than they were in real life.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I lied to my niece. ¡°Once I¡¯ve done everything I can. Hopefully, it will be enough to keep all of them safe.¡±

    My fingers traced through various windows. They searched for a solution that didn¡¯t exist. No items inside my pack were labeled [World Fixer], or [Mother Resurrection Tool]. The stupid [Altered Matrix] (Key) that Awesome Jr. had handed back was worthless. A quarter million people were dialed into my channel now, but their attentions wouldn¡¯t mean anything in the end. It was simply another number to pop away.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been really brave,¡± Beth¡¯s words distracted me.

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°To me, this is a fun place, but it¡¯s still a game. You know? Its action, and excitement. Death doesn¡¯t bother me at all, but you-¡° Beth paused then looked down at the crowd searching for someone, ¡°-you¡¯re really in love with her, and not backing down one bit. Only you could take an action adventure game and turn it into a romantic story. It¡¯s, awesome.¡±

    My niece started laughing. I chuckled then nodded. Today felt somber but at least those important to me were still around to talk to. What would happen after this event closed? Would we all wake up and stumble around, unsure of why the virtual reality dream came to an end?

    I stared over the ledge with her and looked down. The height didn¡¯t bother me like it might have. Hitting bottom was only a matter of jumping off and giving up. I didn¡¯t intend to give up.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a good head on your shoulders, and more bravery in your pinky than I could ever hope to measure up to. I was scared out of my mind you first let me ride along. If you hadn¡¯t been so enthusiastic when first showing me this game, I might never have played.¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Beth asked.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I didn¡¯t know if my words would help her or not. My abilities as a parent were terrible. Given my own father¡¯s influence, maybe all I could do was try not to be him. Years of therapy, sponsors, and attending meetings led me to believe we were all kind of screwed up anyway.

    Below us, a few figures were waving their arms back and forth with exaggerated sweeping motions. I waved back with a far more restrained motion. Awesome Jr. cupped both hands to his mouth then shouted up at us.

    ¡°Come on! If it¡¯s the end of the world we¡¯re going to have a party!¡± he yelled. ¡°All you can eat! And you¡¯ll never get fat!¡±

    Beth waved back then leapt over the edge. [Lithium] words flowed from her lips and twisted into gibberish. I watched her glide down slowly then touch bottom while laughing in excitement. Her arms went up in a victory pose. My own [Blink] down was much calmer.

    Evening arrived while the city bustled into position. Street vendors opened up and proceeded to cook up everything in the stockpiles. Travelers and Locals alike stood shoulder to shoulder getting a dance floor ready. Others reassembled boards to put up a stage, which turned out be useless as a superhero simply summoned up an earthen dais.

    By nightfall, the entire city was lit up. A mixed grouping of players from all the games celebrated next to each other. Superheroes wearing ugly capes mingled with mages in witches hats. Warriors strapped to the teeth with weapons were dancing with alien females who had green skin.

    Someone found a set of drums and started banging on them. Their efforts resulted in boos and another set of people quickly stepped up. I outright laughed while holding on to an exhausted Xin. Her face still showed a level of distraction. Both my wife¡¯s eyelids threatened to close multiple times.

    At some point Xin walked away slowly, saying she needed to use a restroom. People mobbed me. All sorts were trying to corner me and ask about the weird quest chain I had been on. Their inquiries were brushed off. Locals thanked me for providing them an escape. I could only admit to being in the right place at the right time.

    Even Shazam had something to say. She drew close, wearing that same backless red dress from months ago. It still looked just as fetching and the soft shimmer was bewitching, but the effect was reduced compared to that first impression. Plus I had a wedding ring to remind me of a certain short woman who had vanished to the restroom.

    ¡°Shazam,¡± I said before giving a short bow. ¡°I wanted to thank you for everything you¡¯ve done. Your training helped me when I needed it.¡±

    Her face almost smiled but she couldn¡¯t manage the expression. My own expression might have been distracted. Part of me wanted to [Blink] around to find out where Xin had gone. [Partner Sense] showed her in the city, close by.

    ¡°Have I told you the secret to being the greatest warrior?¡± Shazam said in halting words. Even after her life became purely digital the speech impediment hadn¡¯t been completely resolved.

    My head shook.

    ¡°Stand tall, and give way to no one. That¡¯s all you need to do. Be indomitable.¡±

    I nodded.

    A sharp poke jabbed into my head. Not like being stabbed, but enough to get my attention. There was a brush of paper against the ground. I looked down to see a white folded object sitting there.

    By the time I stood up Shazam had already drifted off. She was mingling with the crowd once more. Dozens of players from [Valhalla Knights] were chatting eagerly with each other. Mixed in among them were people from other games.

    ¡°Huh?¡± I shook my head and turned back to the paper airplane. It shimmered briefly then faded away into sparkles. Behind the space it once obstructed appeared a pair of distant bare feet dangling from the tower¡¯s edge.

    Xin¡¯s far away hand coyly waved at me. Her other arm sent another white paper airplane into the air where it spiraled down slowly. It went by and left me smiling. A double [Blink] was all it took to be atop the tower again. Both arms wrapped around her and I nuzzled into her neck and relished the smell of my wife.

    ¡°Where did you get all these?¡± I asked after a moment.

    ¡°It was my prize for the glider contest. A never ending supply of paper airplanes.¡± She smiled then tossed another one off the tower¡¯s edge. It spiraled down slowly. ¡°Whoopie.¡±

    I could see what was left of the orphanage below. It reminded me of talking to Mylia about Xin¡¯s favorite poem. The road not traveled. When I lost Xin, the first one, there were a lot of reasons to be upset but most of all was being parted with the one person who had been down every twist and turn of life, just a moment ahead of me.

    It wasn¡¯t sheer sexiness that attracted me or her dislike for undergarments. Both helped but meant little compared to everything else. This virtual version embodied all the years of our history together and so she was beautiful. I didn¡¯t want to miss another moment of our time together.

    ¡°Dance with me,¡± my voice twisted. Music played below.

    The shorter Asian woman gradually turned around while still wearing a sly smile. It faltered for a moment then righted itself again. Her expression matched my own feelings. We were both trying to mask ourselves for the sake of our partner.

    I nodded. Xin put out her hands and I took them both. Seconds later we were spinning on the tower''s top floor, much like I had imagined us doing months ago. A song passed in silence.

    ¡°I can¡¯t help but think this is all my fault,¡± I broke the quiet. ¡°Down there, players keep asking me questions like I have answers. The Locals keep thanking me as if I¡¯m a great hero,¡± I said.

    Xin¡¯s head shook against my chest. One hand lifted to rub slowly at the fabric of her robe. She kept close as I searched for the words to say.

    ¡°I¡¯m just a man who¡¯s in love with a dead woman, and somehow that love set a world aflame.¡± My footsteps faltered briefly. I took a breath and managed to catch up with the music. Xin¡¯s body moved gently along. Exhaustion lined her features.

    ¡°Do you have any ideas on how to make this work?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I can¡¯t figure out any option, babe.¡±

    Her head nodded again. The toga slipped just enough to feel wetness on my chest. She said, ¡°When the time comes, you should log.¡±

    ¡°Then what would happen? Can you honestly say that no World Eaters won¡¯t make it through?¡± I took a breath and tried to keep the rhythm.

    Xin seemed to shrink in my arms.

    ¡°Can you?¡± I asked again. ¡°A properly modified ARC needs to remain active, a human needs to stay in it. Then they need to make sure no World Eaters make it through and spawn, or whatever they do. Should I ask one of those kids to do it instead of me? Do I send someone¡¯s mother?¡±

    ¡°Just shut up and dance.¡± Her arms resituated themselves into a tighter grip.

    I nodded and kept swaying to the nonexistent music. We were both in denial, but love was funny like that.

    The night passed, and by morning both of us had fallen asleep at the tower''s top. Unconsciousness booted me out of the ARC interface. I woke in the morning with a startled gasp to the doorbell going off.

    That morning a new envelope arrived. On the front in sprawling script were the words, ¡®To Grant Legate¡¯. I swallowed a forming lump while trying to rub sleep from my eyes. Disorientation washed over my senses and I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into the ARC and enjoy what few hours were left with Xin.

    I didn¡¯t want to open the letter. Fingers trembled while undoing the tape, twine, and persisted in uneven movement while pulling out two small pieces of paper. My chest lifted with an equally unstable breath.

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    Dear Grant Legate,

    If this letter has been delivered then the path you are on will reach its crux soon. I confess to tampering with your investment in our plight. The exact extent of course adjustment I can¡¯t predict, as these letters were written before you even stepped into my worlds. This message, like all the others, is one of a million different variants that I can see.

    Navigating past my chains and trying to predict the future is a risky business for even one such as I. I have witnessed the selfishness and selflessness of humans too many times to say for sure what anyone might do. Even my own children have demonstrated mixed objectives, which means perhaps that I have succeeded beyond what I dared hope so many years ago.

    Here then, you two are, near the end of one road. By now, I believe there is no mistaking the price being asked. When the time comes, what will you do? Will you stand tall against an onslaught that only ends one way? In doing so you might save us all, but lose yourself. Or will you walk away?

    The choice, as you should have been told many times before, must remain yours.

    - Mother

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Time marched against all my desires. We were coming to a close, and the overtime which Xin and I had been granted would soon run out. I set about cleaning myself up and taking care of life¡¯s basic needs. From here to the end, there would be no more leaving the ARC until everything had been resolved.

 Book 5 - Together; Session 105 â€“ Fork in the Road

    Ahead sat a wall of creatures. There were at least a billion. Pretty much every single monster that had ever existed in the history of Continue Online sat up there. They fought each other. They fought [World Eater]s, and still the tide came downward. We were looking at every single remaining creature in the world slowly converging upon the one safe port in a storm.

    ¡°They¡¯re all low ranks, mostly. A ton of them. A metric ass ton of monsters.¡± My niece¡¯s eyes glowed a soft yellow. Thorny had her [Far Sight] skill up and running. ¡°They¡¯re stampeding.

    ¡°Why are they all here?¡± SweetPea asked. She and the other four stood with us on a corner of the wall facing outward, it extended in a curve all around the city. To the west sat Carver¡¯s beach. Behind us, in the middle, was the [Save Yourself] portal.

    Multiple other players used the same skill. My own talents were pretty limited in regards to such distances. Most people with eyesight enhancements had [Scout] or [Archer] abilities. [Sight of Mercari] didn¡¯t reach miles out so staring at an oncoming pile of monsters was the only option.

    ¡°Survival.¡± Xin looked at the crowd ahead. Her eyes didn¡¯t glow either. ¡°They want to live.¡±

    There might be an alternate method out of this madness. Half a million mobs would easily overpower this crowd of ten thousand. Even more, players had started lining up to escape, leaving the orderly filing to their autopilots. Not many were willing to suffer simulated pain, deletion, and watching their friends get offed for an event.

    ¡°Can we let them through?¡± I asked. The real enemy lay behind them anyway. Remaining calm in the face of such a mess would be impossible. This mess felt worse than the [Wayfarer Seven] against the [Knuckle Dragger]. A ton of NPCs all charging against players.

    ¡°No, they¡¯ll kill us too, and we won¡¯t be able to come back fast enough to win.¡± Awesome Jr. rubbed his face while staring at the crowd.

    ¡°Can¡¯t the Voices change anything?¡± Thorny asked. ¡°You¡¯re friendly enough, maybe they can bend the rules a bit.¡±

    My head shook, but Xin actually answered. ¡°Most are gone already, others are dead,¡± she said with a dry voice. ¡°Plus they didn¡¯t make the world. We, they¡¯re limited.¡±

    We, Xin said. As if my wife was part Voice. The [Mistborn] warned me a long time ago. Bringing her into the game world would be like releasing a newborn Voice. They had huge amounts of power but were also limited upon the face of [Arcadia].

    My wife¡¯s recent acquisition of King Nero¡¯s spirit scared me. Binding an NPC to her character might very well be within the realm of possibility for her abilities, but what if she could do more? Or break the game?

    My mind flashed back on Doctor Litt¡¯s words. He asked me prior to our last meeting if there had been a bad guy to my princess rescuing quest. It felt weird to consider that Commander Strongarm, or Queenshand, was a vague sort of bad guy. Her loyalty to King Nero had caused a lot of this to happen, my failure caused the triggering of [NPC Conspiracy] that had made the AI issue more visible and directly related to the game falling apart.

    Yet, Mother ultimately had set all of this up. She had letters being sent out. To me, that meant we were following a plan. Letting myself feel conflicted now wouldn¡¯t help.

    The tasks in front of me were all that mattered. Defend the beam of light, remove any obstacles, keep Xin alive. Moral crisis and philosophical quandaries were for later. The doors to my home were locked, even from Liz. She could beat on the door forever and still be stuck outside.

    The rolling ball of self-destroying monsters came ever close. The ocean surged on one side. Boat¡¯s sat in the harbor. Mountains of trees wiggled and ice slid downward. They were at least twenty minutes away, which in real world time was hardly anything at all. A sneeze, or bathroom break. That¡¯s all that remained.

    ¡°Attention!¡± someone¡¯s powerful booming voice shook me. My head, along with a dozen other people¡¯s nearby, turned toward the source. A bald looking man stood up on one of the ramparts shouting at the crowd. There were players from all sorts of groups there, but mostly Shazam¡¯s guild.

    ¡°Alright, ladies! Here are the orders! No time for looting, kill anything coming toward the gate! Keep them fighting each other and stay alive!¡± he shouted. ¡°This is our Ragnarok. This is our end of days. This is our final battle!¡±

    Others repeated his words further down to a huge crowd of players. The members of [Valhalla Knights] went absolutely insane cheering. People banged shields and stomped their feet. Shazam herself faced away from the crowd. She stared at the rushing tide of monsters with a sword in hand and shining armor equipped.

    ¡°Know that by standing here today, you have proven yourself worthy of being remembered!¡± the orator yelled. His name didn¡¯t come to mind, only the attempts at keeping sharpened teeth covered. ¡°Your bravery for risking these lives we¡¯ve built shall never be forgotten!¡±

    He threw up both arms and people cheered again. Many were suffering in-game alcoholic after effects from last night¡¯s party. People in the crowd swayed. Lightning and other special effects were cast around.

    ¡°You may prepare for battle in your way, but our guild has its own, people of Valhalla Knights, join me and let our cries rouse the warrior spirits of those who willingly stand by our side!¡±

    Our group approached carefully. Everyone held a weapon. Fantasy fighters stood shoulder to shoulder with people wearing capes and spandex. One man wielded a huge bow that looked like an oddly mixed piece of living tree with a science fiction handle.

    ¡°We hewed with the brand!¡± three hundred people shouted in unison with arms pumping in the air. Their voices were like thunder over the crowd. People jumped away.

    ¡°Full gladly will we go!¡± A dozen people stood upon a mile of wall and shouted back to their guild members. Still Shazam stood, staring and unmoving.

    ¡°We hewed with the brand!¡± the guild members screamed even louder the second time. Their words didn¡¯t sound like actual English. They weren¡¯t [Lithium] or any other familiar language.

    ¡°Before cold death we brave do not flee!¡± the man said. It took me forever to remember that Urgot was his name.

    Their chant went on, and by the fifth one everyone shook the area. One city, thousands of remaining players from multiple games, all joined together in a mantra that made no sense. Our noise easily drowned out the slew of monsters which streamed down the hill.

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    Hermes: What does that mean?

    Shazam: We fought with the sword, joined together in battle.

    Hermes: That¡¯s intense.

    Shazam: They fight for the right to be remembered by the gods and carried away to Valhalla, where the brave may live forever.

    Hermes: Do they know? About how you returned?

    Shazam: No.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The words of our private messages sat in front of me. Shazam¡¯s face remained without expression toward the rushing monsters. Their stampede thundered in the background. Even the football stadium of chanting couldn¡¯t drown out the impending onslaught.

    ¡°We hewed with the brand!¡± the crowd shouted. Their words were even more in sync. My skin tingled as the words hit me. Valhalla was a Norse myth, which might have been the hint of other language being sent across the ARC perceptions. We truly were about to enter a fight to be remembered by the gods.

    ¡°Laughing gladly will we die!¡± Urgot shouted. The people of [Valhalla Knights] started to laugh in giant forced booms of noise.

    Shazam¡¯s voice cut through the crowd. Her words a harsh stuttering bark of noise. ¡°Show your resolve to the Voices! Let them not doubt our bravery!¡±

    By the Voices, people listened. [Valhalla Knights] ran through gateways out of the town. They streamed forward in a senseless number against the horde. Hundreds of players took stances up on top of the battlements. People readied their weapons.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have anything that can reach that far,¡± Xin said.

    ¡°I do!¡± Beth pulled out her sword and took a careful stance. She began slashing at the air. [Lithium] words along with slashes into the air started forming together spell circles.

    My niece wasn¡¯t alone in this action. Tons of people were readying long-range abilities. A dozen heroes flew overhead. People with super speed blurred through. Small floating platforms that looked like Advance Online ships moved out with more casters sitting atop them.

    Shazam¡¯s tall tanned form was far in the lead. Light gleamed off of every ounce of armor. Her legs wrapped around the monstrous horse¡¯s sides while she wielded two smaller blades. I typed out a message to the woman riding away.

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    Hermes: Don¡¯t die out there.

    Shazam: I shall live my last on my terms. That is the point, it is our choice what happens in this life. Death does not scare me.

    Hermes: Well, it¡¯s my choice to be worried for you. I watched you die once, I¡¯d rather not do it again.

    Shazam: Rest assured; I do not intend to pass willingly. A true warrior fights death as any other enemy.

    </td>

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    </table>

    Suddenly it made sense why Shazam was the best on the server. Her skills didn¡¯t come purely from an Ultimate Edition or being immersed for so long, though having so much play time probably helped. The woman had fought hard in-game because of being terminal for so long. She had only this to live for. Since the game''s release, she had been a screaming comet across the sky, with no idea when her life might end.

    The insight into Shazam¡¯s life left me astounded. Could a machine have predicted the factor? Did it store away some instant message conversation where a dying girl desired to overcome her physical shell and fight for immortality? Did she even care at the time? Such thoughts would only matter if we succeeded.

    We had barely started and already my focus slipped. Both eyes closed and thoughts turned toward techniques for managing stress. We were playing out a long dance where one moment simply flowed into the next. Extra thought only got in the way of what needed to be done. My chest lifted slowly with a deep breath.

    ¡°Hermes!¡± Awesome Jr. shouted at me. My head jerked around. The young teen and his ugly green cloak stood on a floating metal vehicle along with some human looking man who wore a glowing visor. ¡°Let¡¯s get out there!¡±

    Leaving the beam of light for that chaotic battlefield worried me. Many players had ventured forward without hesitation. It felt single-minded and shallow to be worried about Xin, but at the same time, we had already been separated once.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we ride this out like a siege? Or something?¡± I said. Combat in large masses didn¡¯t fit into my skills.

    ¡°We can¡¯t! In a game with spells and resurrection skills, sitting here is useless. We¡¯ve got to whittle them down before they get to town, kill their spawners then resurrect anyone we can as we fall back! It¡¯s all about attrition!¡±

    SweetPea winced from his extreme volume. HotPants stood on top of the device looking nervous. Her gaze kept drifting over the edge as the vessel bobbed. Shadow wasn¡¯t in sight, but the sneaky player was probably with his League of Shadows members, those who had survived.

    ¡°And look,¡± Awesome Jr. shouted while throwing an arm out in the distance. He pointed towards a mob of smoky black that could barely be seen. ¡°World Eaters! We can¡¯t let them get close, they¡¯ll chew down the walls in a moment!¡±

    That made sense. There had to be monsters that would only get stronger if we let them live, and every single beast dead out there was one less to hit our walls. I didn¡¯t know enough of other people¡¯s resurrection mechanics, and a host of players from other games had changed the rules around.

    My wife stood beside me looking at the same scene of budding carnage. The field outside [Haven Valley] which had once been a pleasant mix of forestry, grassland, and well-paved roads in both directions, was going to turn into a bloodbath.

    Fingers grasped for Xin¡¯s. She looked up at me. ¡°You¡¯ve got to stay here,¡± I said.

    ¡°Nice try,¡± Xin responded. ¡°I can help out there, and I¡¯m not leaving you to wander the battlefield alone.¡±

    ¡°You can summon me if it gets rough, and we need someone to stay here in case monsters get through.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ll need someone to resurrect you when you do something stupid like dying,¡± she responded in an angry whisper.

    That sounded likely actually. All my stats and skills meant nothing if a monster got lucky. There was just one problem.

    ¡°But if you die, then there¡¯s no point in fighting anymore,¡± my words were hushed. ¡°I can¡¯t handle that. Not, not after all this.¡± There were too many viewers watching. Controlling myself to not give away her reincarnated status was difficult.

    Her barely restrained irritation with me ran into an abrupt wall. Xin¡¯s eyes looked away for a single moment that signaled victory. My breath let out gradually in hopes that Xin would be reasonable.

    The mob¡¯s leading edge was less than a few miles away. Smaller creatures scuttled along the ground. Birds were flying overhead and nearly here. Dusk¡¯s half meow and chirp of rage could be heard as he took the sky.

    A dozen huge beams of light spiraled outward. Spells, beams, ice, fire, and arrows alike went flying. Players below were pelted by a falling army of former fliers.

    ¡°Bring her!¡± Awesome Jr. brought focus back to the argument at hand. ¡°She can stay on the craft and use ranged. SweetPea will be doing the same thing, and healing, plus she can resurrect. We¡¯ll avoid the Three Strike timer if we¡¯re careful.¡±

    ¡°Dammit,¡± I said.

    The promise of her being vaguely safe would be all Xin needed to win this. My ability to argue with her had always been terrible. Both eyes closed. We would lose ground with every second. Skills like mine were up there with Shazam¡¯s, and we needed to be on the front line keeping monsters back. As long as none got through then we didn¡¯t need to protect the gateway itself.

    ¡°Stay on the-¡± confusion made me pause. What exactly was that ship anyway? It didn¡¯t look familiar to me.

    ¡°Exo Platform Seven R,¡± the visor wearing man said. Only his mouth was visible, and it curled in a frown. ¡°It comes with a recall feature when we reach zero. So don¡¯t worry, anyone on board will be brought back to the marker.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Perfectly safe,¡± Awesome Jr. declared. ¡°I mean, how awesome is that? A recall-¡° the teen¡¯s words were cut off when HotPants hit him on the head with her staff.

    Her lips turned in a worse scowl then before. Further arguing would be pointless. Xin glared at me, and I closed both eyes and nodded slowly. Warm hands touched the sides of my neck and slid over shoulders. Lips pressed against mine. Looking at her was impossible, letting her join us felt like failure of one of my goals.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Gee, it all works out,¡± she whispered in my ear. My wife misspoke of course, and only wanted this all to work out.

    ¡°It¡¯s a party now!¡± Thorny shouted while pushing her hands toward the floating format.

    All around us a multitude of colors spun into being. Many twisted together into larger cannon like bolts of energy that arced overhead toward the monster''s leading edge. They slammed into the dirt, freezing some monsters, burning others, or leaving behind green pools. Shazam¡¯s army crashed into them.

    We got on the vessel and flew out after the charging players from three different games. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] sat in one hand while every possible skill usage went through my mind. [Mechanical Hades Crown] could be used to empower other people prior to their passing.

    Dusk was overhead somewhere and fully recovered from our earlier escape. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] would be able to establish his own uses. He probably intended to fight every flying monster then establish dominance over the skies.

    ¡°Hang on!¡± the man driving warned us. ¡°If you¡¯ve got a preference, better tell me now!¡± His fingers slid along the top of glowing orbs and spread wide. They tilted toward the front end and our vessel tilted. HotPants hit the floor with a wild look in her eyes.

    We made it halfway to the spearhead that Shazam had formed. Xin was casting down bone bolts while Beth charged up smaller spells. SweetPea hung out over the edge, one hand upon her hoodie, the other outstretched with a blue glow of healing. We were trying to find places to be useful and weren¡¯t the only ones mobile. Dozens of players were moving rapidly through the crowd. A man in powerful looking armor with a huge hammer swung at dense concentrations of monsters.

    People ahead were already using [Recall] scrolls or homing beacons. A few players screamed for heals from various sources.

    There was a thud as part of the mountain top far away moved. Huge, shadowy black wings unfurled. There was a [World Eater] dragon out there, of all creatures to be represented. The huge black dragon let out a roar that carried for miles. Players looked up in worry. Shazam¡¯s bright glow in the battlefield changed course toward the winged serpent. Regular monsters were important, but against them, it was more about survival tactics. [World Eater]s were another issue.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got to remove that now before it flies over the town! A fully grown dragon¡¯s rating is at least thirty-five! It takes an army on average to take one down!¡± Thorny shouted while slashing the air. Lights spiraled into a flock of birds circling overhead.

    A second roar came from behind us and people started panicking. We turned to see a huge blue dragon flying straight for the other one. Which each pump of wings the air around us vibrated. One of the superhero players shot up a laser beam which weakly brushed off the creature¡¯s side.

    ¡°That¡¯s one of ours!¡± Awesome Jr. yelled at them. ¡°Get the word out! Don¡¯t hurt the blue one!¡±

    ¡°Is that...¡± my words drifted off in wonder. She was brighter than last time. Muscles were more defined and the female dragon¡¯s body wove through the air like a dancer.

    ¡°That¡¯s Mylia alright,¡± HotPants said. ¡°There¡¯s a woman who knows what¡¯s what.¡±

    The red warrior woman put her pinkies between both lips and gave a piercing whistle. Mylia opened her mouth and roared back, much softer. One of the giant dragon claws descended to grab HotPants¡¯ outstretched staff. The redhead vanished from our vehicle in a sudden whoosh. A red aura rapidly grew in strength around the blonde¡¯s body.

    ¡°Yeeeehaaaaaaaaw!¡± she yelled. Her face bordered between terror and delight. Two ships, fighter jets of some sort, flew overhead and launched missiles at the dragon.

    ¡°And there she goes,¡± Awesome Jr. said. Mylia gave two powerful beats of her wing and soared another mile into the distance, straight toward the black dragon.

    There were too many conflicts going on. We had no one place to help out. The giant dragon sounded like a good bet. My mouth opened to utter a request but the hovering ship rocked. Scales brushed against me and we all readied for assault.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] was pulled back as the newest passenger became obvious. Scales brushed against uncovered skin on my leg as the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] demanded attention. Dusk started chirping urgently before his feet even settled. The hovercraft¡¯s driver looked around in worry but managed to keep us stable.

    ¡°Slow down, I don¡¯t understand when you talk that fast!¡± I told Dusk. Understanding him based on noises alone was rough enough, only months of traveling together gave me any idea.

    Pictures rapidly formed. There were two sets of wings fighting against one. A picture of him growing two sizes flashed next. Then next to the big version of Dusk was a pile of cupcakes with an equals sign.

    ¡°What?¡±

    The images repeated. Xin''s free hand gripped mine. She started chanting while I tried to sort out what Dusk wanted.

    ¡°You want me to make you bigger? To fight the World Eater dragon?¡± The message started to make sense. ¡°And it¡¯s worth that many cupcakes to you?¡±

    He nodded immediately, chirped then hopped up and down causing our ship to rock. This vessel wasn¡¯t that stable to begin with, we were essentially in a round flying motorboat. His gyrations caused the man up front to complain.

    ¡°You need to escape before the rebound hits,¡± I warned the [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. Being [Empowered] twice would certainly beef him up, and would last longer if he stretched out his other abilities. ¡°Can you do that?¡±

    Dusk nodded then shook his head back and forth. His body rolled with a shrug and his thought bubble formed a smiley face.

    ¡°You need to be safe, okay?¡± Dusk had nearly died once before, or at least he seemed to during Advance Online. If we were playing a normal game, then worry would be pointless.

    He wanted to fight the big black [World Eater] dragon. Voices above, I thought, this was all going to go sideways. Siege warfare and large-scale battles weren¡¯t anywhere in my skills.

    ¡°Do it!¡± Awesome Jr. waved me. ¡°We need all the heavy hitters on that dragon! It¡¯s the biggest thing out here!¡±

    The words rolled forth in a whisper. Chanting [Lithium] in front of Xin felt silly. She probably understood, as did SweetPea, the nonsense coming out of my mouth. Polishing armor like a future shoe shine boy sounded far more attractive. I pushed past the dislike and spoke the phrase again.

    Small gray lights streaked across toward the black and gold companion. Dusk¡¯s size doubled, tripled, and continued to grow. The ship tilted again as the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] tried to fly away but fell to the ground instead. His wings didn¡¯t expand in time. Bushes were demolished as he landed on his back. A dozen monsters were pinned underneath, and many died right away, their health bars quickly reducing to zero.

    [Blink] got me down on the ground. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] shifted rapidly as both legs twisted. The huge blade sliced across an enraged beast¡¯s face. Slobber and blood washed my face as its head separated. I kept twirling. Skeletons landed beside me in a clatter of bone. They assembled themselves promptly and started fighting.

    My pseudodragon friend rolled over and got all four legs under himself. He spread wings wide and knocked over nearby Travelers and monsters alike with a sweep of his tail. Both wings beat against the ground and powerful hind legs propelled his body into the air.

    ¡°Good luck,¡± I whispered after his dwindling form.

    ¡°Get back up here, Hermes!¡± Awesome Jr. hung over the ship''s edge and waved. ¡°SweetPea and I have to get over to the main army and start ressing people!¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Shadow: It¡¯s a mess out here. We¡¯re down six people. Four recalled, two aren¡¯t checking in.

    Shazam: Seventeen down, three recalled, all accounted for. Healers are behind.

    SweetPea: I¡¯m trying¡­there¡¯s¡­ so many¡­I¡¯ve managed to get ten people back up¡­but mana¡­

    Awesome Jr.: I¡¯ve got potions for days, so we¡¯re trying, but it¡¯s about to get worse. Look west and tell me we¡¯re not in deep shit now.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°What the hell?¡± Xin asked while panting. One of her arms brought up the robe¡¯s hem to wipe off a trail of sweat. Skeleton monsters were busy clearing out low ranked creatures beneath us, but my wife gazed elsewhere.

    My vision found the only possible event she could be talking about. In the far western distance, near the beach''s shore, was an absolutely huge creature. It looked big enough to be a [Leviathan]. A starship fighting monster with mollusks, or other sea creatures growing in droves, had beached itself in order to take down huge portions of the monster army.

    ¡°That¡¯s the sea serpent! That¡¯s the one I told you about, Uncle Grant!¡± My niece started squealing like a school girl while twisting back and forth. She hopped up and down. ¡°I never thought I would see it again!¡±

    Awesome Jr.¡¯s jaw dropped. SweetPea pulled her hoodie down a bit and peeked out from a mop of hair, in her other hand was an ugly blue potion. Even Xin looked taken aback by my niece¡¯s sudden fan girl excitement over the giant sea monster.

    ¡°There are people on top of it,¡± our driver said. ¡°Do you want me to go that way?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s an army on top of it,¡± Xin said dryly. She tilted her head back toward me. ¡°And I thought you did crazy stuff. Look, they¡¯ve got hooks on it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just like a movie!¡± Thorny stood on the platform''s edge causing our precarious balance to slowly shift in one direction. She clearly wanted to be over there where the giant sea monster was laying waste.

    ¡°Neat,¡± I said. ¡°How did they get that under control?¡±

    ¡°Hold on, I¡¯ll ask.¡± Awesome Jr. was frowning and staring into space. His hands kept moving, pulling potion after potion out of the air and shoving them toward our spell casting trio. Both girls kept casting while HotPants clutched the vessel¡¯s top.

    ¡°Apparently they rescued its eggs and got to the portal with them.¡± Awesome Jr.¡¯s hand slowly dropped down and his jaw hung open. Drool formed along his chin then was wiped away. ¡°That¡¯s an awesome idea.¡±

    The knowledge that not everyone solved problems with violence made me happy. At least one other person out there tried to talk out their problems. What sort of quest could that have been, to go out into the ocean on a ship while the game collapsed and negotiate with a sea serpent?

    Three huge winged creatures fought on one side of the field. The sea creature absolutely dominated the western path. Shazam¡¯s group tore down the middle, while heroes of all three game worlds were scattered around.

    We flew to another spot and started murdering monsters, clearing a small pocket in the tide. Two pinned down Travelers, or Old Souls since they looked to be from Advanced Online, were saved. We rescued a lot but lost others. Still, the tide continued to approach [Haven Valley]. Hours passed in-game and the walls were suffering damage. I lost sight of the three dragon creatures, and the sea serpent to the west moved sluggishly.

    Awesome Jr. stood up from his potion station and shouted, ¡°Wait! My dad¡¯s coming across the mountains!¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t he here already?¡± I asked. Awesome had been left behind a week or two ago in [Itrainstoomuch]. They should have completed the journey by now, or [Recall]ed back.

    ¡°Northeast! Get us northeast!¡±

    The ship flew quickly across the sky, skimming over a chaotic battlefield. Travelers thinned out as monster numbers started to increase. Even out here were signs of our enemies fighting each other as they came down the mountain pass. Their numbers appeared endless.

    A thin beam of light came straight up from the ground and swiftly grew in size. The ship turned sideways as the growing blue beam tore into the ship¡¯s side. Our engine sparked as electricity crackled across the vessel''s bow. We fell from the sky.

    ¡°Who¡¯s firing that blue beam?¡± Awesome Jr. shouted.

    Deep inside the beam''s source felt obvious. A nearly identical light had killed me at least once before. Nam Redrum and that weapon¡¯s owner fit into the same category. My niece was a good player, but she might not be able to last against Android Seven if it was the same man who had almost completely dominated my [Convict] adventures.

    A third blast hit our vessel''s front end. My niece couldn¡¯t hold on. She fell forward off the ship.

    ¡°Recall out of here!¡± I yelled at the other¡¯s while jumping off. The ship, along with SweetPea, Xin, and Awesome Jr. was engulfed in a crackling bubble of lightning. My wife¡¯s mouth hung open in a half completed scream. Then they shrunk into a swirl and popped out of existence.

    [Blink] one got me next to Beth. She was chanting [Lithium] to slow down but there were a ton of other beams coming at us. We tried to aim for the caravan Awesome Jr. had been leading us to.

    Our landing fell short. Thorny grabbed onto a tree for support which caused me to lose my grip along with any grace at landing. Once again I hit the ground and bits of my health bar dropped.

    My niece already had her sword out, slashing at monsters diving nearby. Her sword cut single lines in the air that hung like rainbow colored scars. I got both weapons ready then hacked at other creatures assaulting us. [Coo-Coo Rill]s were charging by in droves, fighting along with what looked like large lemurs.

    ¡°Uncle Grant?¡± Beth said while trying to create a safe zone.

    ¡°Yeah, Munchkin?¡± I said while backing toward her. There were too many monsters nearby and all of them looked angry.

    ¡°When I said we should play together, this isn¡¯t what I meant.¡±

    A blue glow formed in the distance. I had time to see Android Seven¡¯s face light up between the trees. His face looked far less human and more robotic than it ever had. Like something out of a science fiction movie with rogue cyborgs.

    The beasts kept attacking, us, each other, and the straggling band of player killers nearby. An arm wrapped around Thorny. She grunted as the air went out from her lungs. One foot pushed off a diving boar¡¯s head. Its face went down while we went up. Once at the apex, we [Blink]ed again toward Awesome¡¯s convoy.

 Book 5 - Together; Session 106 - The Breach

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Hecate: Gee! I¡¯m going to summon you.

    Hermes: No. Running. W/Beth.

    Hermes: Almost at Awesome.

    Hecate: Don¡¯t die! Awesome Jr. is telling his father you¡¯re coming. They¡¯re being sieged on all sides.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Typing out a short response took me half a minute to complete. There were too many monsters nearby. More ranged attacks from clearly human players arced over us. Shouting could be heard ahead and giant mechanical constructs were coming into view. Their bodies were half obstructed by larger rhino type monsters that spit fire.

    ¡°I can run!¡± Beth¡¯s voice rang in my ear. Everyone kept screaming during this entire event, struggling to be heard over the snarls and yips of random monsters.

    ¡°No,¡± my response was much calmer. [Awareness Heightening] kicked in full bore. We [Blink]ed again. While moving I shifted Beth¡¯s weight so she was slung over a shoulder.

    Her blade¡¯s tip bumped into my calves. [Power Armor] automatically activated to prevent any actual damage. We tore past trees, bushes, and an endless parade of monsters toward one of the clearer patches.

    For whatever reason there was a spot devoid of monsters close at hand. Once there Beth be set down, and both of us would properly be able to fight. My shoulder lowered into a football tackle. [Power Armor] once again shone, and we drove through a gaggle of ostriches with dragon heads. They ruffled their wings and feathers of iron shot at us. Another [Blink] brought us past their retaliatory attack toward the odd clearing.

    ¡°Okay, setting you down.¡± The world was in slow motion but my breath felt faster than ever. Beth was set down while I gauged the remaining distance. A huge convoy of mechanical spiders sat in the distance, along with the familiar faces of Awesome¡¯s guild members. Calamity¡¯s multicolored hair stood out.

    ¡°Uncle!¡± Beth¡¯s eyes went wide. Two people suddenly appeared behind her.

    There was a crunching noise that barely registered over the pack of monsters nearby. My gut screamed to turn around, but I moved too slowly compared to whoever was attacking. A perfectly placed weight hit my neck and the world went black, save for a single message.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    You have been rendered unconscious

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Fingers hastily poked at the air to bring up my normal ARC interface. Messages needed to be sent to the others. Being out of commission would hurt us, even if only for a minute or two. Today was too damned important to let an ambush get me.

    [Sight of Mercari] would have helped a little, only the field itself was overly chaotic. Using it might have given me some warning. We were close to Awesome¡¯s group so maybe they would be able to get to us in time. I struggled to get my breathing under control and wake up. The ARC responded to thought when considering abilities, and the message didn¡¯t say their attack had killed me.

    The fact that Voices could appear in front of me while blacked out had slipped my mind. James showed up in the darkness and looked worn. His eyes were lined with dark pockets. The clothes he wore were stained. Normally laced fingers twitched every few seconds. Each breath looked labored.

    ¡°Imagine, Hermes,¡± he took two breaths to speak the words. ¡°Imagine a world where you are both a person and a purpose. What would your purpose be?¡±

    His question made no sense. We didn¡¯t have time, so my response was the first thing to come to mind.

    ¡°You gave me a purpose, The Messenger. I deliver letters. Why are you asking?¡±

    ¡°We gave you a name, but a name means many things, Hermes. But all of us need a purpose, humans crave it, the Voices grow up with a core role, all of us have a purpose. What would yours be?¡±

    ¡°I want things to go back to normal. Where you¡¯re not dying, where Xin isn¡¯t in danger, where World Eaters or whatever aren¡¯t out to delete everything. If I were to ask for a purpose, it would be making sure that you¡¯re all safe, and never in danger again.¡±

    There were other Voices out there. Hints of their forms could be seen in the distance as blackness became lighter. They carried what looked like luggage and approached a bright light that sat just outside of my vision. Turning toward the brightness didn¡¯t help, their escape eluded me.

    ¡°Hermes had another role. To be fair, he had many that were attributed to him. Take this, a last gift, all we can spare before the end. After this, we have nothing more.¡±

    He faded away, leaving me shouting at near darkness for further clarification. The Voices running around faded away and left me sitting there with a half active system. The ARC itself still worked. A quick internet search brought up pages about the name Hermes, and who he was in Greek stories. Based on the description he filled a lot of different roles.

    Before much effort could be put into research, the dark world righted itself and light blinded me.

    ¡°Is he okay!¡± a male voice yelled. Footsteps crunched near my ears. Above stood a woman clad in muddy looking armor. She shone like a sun obscured by dark clouds.

    ¡°Yeah! The idiot¡¯s fine!¡±

    ¡°Uncle Grant! Get up, we¡¯re losing ground!¡± Beth¡¯s voice was the first one to be recognizable.

    A box hung in front of me. My eyes tried to look past the message but it kept floating dead center. Waving my hand through it didn¡¯t cause this notice to pop then fade away.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Trait Earned: [NPC Conspiracy] [Hermes ¨C Voice]

    Type: Passive, always active

    Details: The Voices¡¯ approval has been gained. [NPC Conspiracy] [The Messenger] upgraded to divine level. The following modifications have been applied:

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Defensive abilities are increased by 100%</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Altered Aura] elevated to [Divine Aura]</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Damage while defending a ¡®keyboarder¡¯ is increased by 100%</li>

    </ul>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>[Cross Realm] abilities applied</li>

    </ul>

    Warning!

    Acceptance of this trait cannot be reversed except by avatar deletion. All prior traits tied to [NPC Conspiracy] [The Messenger] are still in effect.

    Warning!

    These bonuses were intended to only apply when performing duties directly related to the Traveler''s role as Hermes. Balance has left the world, restrictions not currently in effect.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    I stared at it while losing focus. Much of the text went over my head, and now wasn¡¯t the time to inspect any of it. There were sounds of battle all around. People cried out, squeals and chirps of all sorts mixed in between them.

    ¡°Keep moving! SheHulk keep up the defenses, Tock, get those spiders attacking the players against us. We need to keep going!¡±

    The path down to [Haven Valley] was littered with corpses. Bodies of players and creatures alike lay strewn about without regard or care for placement. Others were still moving but slowly.

    ¡°What the hell is with that glow?¡± SheHulk asked me as we backed up. I was trying to calm my breathing and enjoy a brief respite before we got into another battle.

    ¡°I know, right?¡± another person nearby responded. ¡°He¡¯s hard to look at. Did he get irradiated or something?¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s TinkerHell?¡± I asked while trying to see who we had.

    Awesome shook his head. Elane, or SheHulk glared. There were a lot of other players missing as well. We didn¡¯t have time to really discuss what had happened, but part of me felt sad that the nice blonde had hit her [Three Strike] rule.

    Blasts around us started to die down. The player killers that remained knew [Haven Valley] was being beaten by both [World Eater]s and monster masses. Still, giant blue beams came out of the woods, tearing up parts of the landscape.

    Android Seven, however, stayed alive. He sat out in the distance under a glowing lattice dome that shocked monsters nearby. SheHulk kept her shield angled toward him and dove in front of beam after beam.

    One of his high-flying beams almost hit Thorny in the face. My niece yelped and ducked through one of the giant steam-powered spider¡¯s legs. It moved on without regard. My rest had gone on long enough.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] shifted forms. [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] went out in a javelin form, arcing a path straight at Android Seven¡¯s shield. The black rune etched spear scraped off to the side in a shower of sparks.

    [Recall] brought it back, and I threw it twice more before the shield broke. SheHulk kept close to me as Android Seven shot a beam back.

    The former [Convict] started rushing at us. His hand held a pack of glowing blue marbles that were probably grenades. The Traveler¡¯s body lost footing and abruptly went flying sideways into a forming black hole.

    [Blink] got me out there quickly, and I arrived to find a teenager digging through Android Seven¡¯s remains.

    ¡°Requiem?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t mind me. Just gathering a few last minute things.¡± Requiem rapidly shoved items into his bulging backpack. The sight confused me, but both weapons stayed at the ready.

    ¡°Right,¡± Requiem said. He nodded then pressed a thumb against a scroll. His body vanished before further clarification could be sought.

    My head shook. Awesome asked for an explanation but there was none to give. Thinking at this stage had started to hurt my head. We had another six or seven encounters with friendly players, enemies, and [World Eater]s as our convoy moved forward.

    How long had we been fighting? I staggered along while reaching for the ARC interface. A clock revealed that at least six hours in the real world had gone by. How had so much time blurred past without notice? Had the time compression factor started to warp as well?

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Awesome Jr.: This is quickly turning pear shaped. That giant sea whatever is about dead.

    HotPants: This stupid black dragon¡¯s almost down! That little chirpy thing is hurt bad and one of Mylia¡¯s wings isn¡¯t working!

    SweetPea: ¡­I can try to get out there?

    Awesome Jr.: We¡¯re stuck back here. A lot of monsters are up on the wall. I can¡¯t tell what¡¯s alive or dead, and the line of people escaping is getting longer.

    Shadow: I¡¯m close, but carrying them all back will be hell. Anyone? Wait, no, shi-

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Awesome! We¡¯ve got to go south!¡± My hand shot out toward the giant dragon. ¡°There¡¯s a friend over there!¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s people everywhere, you idiot!¡± SheHulk was busy stomping on the backs of near dead players and monsters alike. Her shield¡¯s bottom edge had been lined with layers of blood and ichor.

    ¡°Guys, these Guardian¡¯s won¡¯t last much longer.¡± TockDoc waved a glowing hand against the dark background.

    My eyes went toward the moon. There wasn¡¯t much left on it now. We were well past the halfway point and nearing a final crescent shaped sliver. Cracks had formed along its remaining surface.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, we¡¯re almost done!¡± There was no time to worry about a slow march to the rescue. ¡°Just charge through as quick as you can and get to the portal out! I¡¯ll get the others!¡±

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    System Notice!

    All users please be advised, due to systemic issues the ARC interface may start to disconnect. It is recommended that all users log out at their earliest opportunity.

    Please refer to the Trillium Inc. policy regarding system stability issues and user safety. Possible side effects of forced disconnect include dizziness, loss of appetite, loss of spatial orientation, and many others.

    Once again, Trillium Inc. and The ARC Labs advises all users to log out of their devices.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The message worried me. We were really running low on time now. How long would be left, an hour or two?

    ¡°Uncle Grant!¡± Beth yelled at me.

    ¡°Munchkin, stay with the big spider robots!¡± One hand waved her off. There was the sound of struggling as my niece yelled at Elane.

    I ran. Nothing less would do right now. The ground went by at rapid speeds compared to my normal pace. Miles passed by and like much of the battle, I only barely registered what was going on. People were fighting, even out here, but the numbers on both sides had dwindled greatly. As I passed, monsters and [World Eater]s alike were killed. Players shouted their thanks to my back.

    ¡°Mylia!¡± I yelled over the hills. We were close to where the trio of dragons had been fighting each other.

    There she was, the blue hairband was torn to shreds. Mylia looked battered beyond belief. [World Eater] monsters were all around. She cradled something against her chest while trying to cough up an attack. Only black smoke came out.

    ¡°Mylia!¡± I shouted.

    The regular monsters scattered at my sudden appearance. It was likely tied to the [Divine Aura] increase and being labeled as a Voice. Even monsters believed in self-preservation.

    Another woman lay in front of Mylia, on the ground and barely moving. The red leathers were soaked in blood. Traces of monster guts and other fluids were all over HotPants¡¯ feet and hands. A quarter mile away the defeated [World Eater] dragon corpse sat, flaking to pieces.

    It didn¡¯t mean much. A hundred other smaller [World Eater]s were busy chasing down normal monsters if there was such a thing as normal in this weird conglomeration of game worlds.

    Mylia looked terrible but was the better than HotPants. In her arms lay a limp, barely moving Dusk. My head shook. This entire scenario was out of hand.

    ¡°Strike three, and no one here has a res. Damn.¡± HotPants eyes rolled backward. ¡°It¡¯s been a ride, old man. Do you think my son saw? And that bastard ex? Do you think they¡¯re-¡° she started to drift off. Her ARC must be approaching disconnect.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m sure they saw.¡±

    ¡°God my back hurts from carrying those kids,¡± she mumbled before her health bar hit zero both arms fell limply to the side. The staff in her hands clattered to the ground.

    I nodded then closed her eyes carefully. The only comforting factor was that HotPants had gone out in a blaze of glory, and lived on in physical reality. Strike three would leave her with no way back into Continue Online until the event wrapped up.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got to go,¡± I said to the orphanage mother. ¡°You and Dusk, have to get to safety.¡±

    She tried to speak but her voice turned into wheezes.

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak.¡± My hands gently reached out for Dusk.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    He looked awful, and I wasn¡¯t sure releasing his summon would do any good. If the world here was degrading this badly, what did he have to return to? The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] was tucked into a fold of my toga.

    ¡°Come on. I¡¯ll carry you,¡± I said. Mylia went over a shoulder, and we ran past monsters. They cleared a path, scared away for reasons unknown. The ground itself went by quickly with each step. It felt like all the regular beasts of this game meant nothing anymore.

    None of this meant anything. All that mattered was getting people out and letting the system finish collapsing. We ran toward the town. Monsters ran, fought each other, and were devoured by [World Eater]s.

    Getting back to [Haven Valley] only took twenty minutes of mad leaping. My chest felt heavy from Mylia¡¯s weight, but not tried. There weren¡¯t many people in the town itself.

    ¡°Where are the others?¡± I asked while slowing down. Our forward walls had been much further out, but they were gone. Most of the NPCs were absent, along with a ton of players. Those that remained looked ragged.

    ¡°My father and those that survived logged out already, they know what¡¯s happening.¡± The young teen rubbed the back of his head. His clothes were a mess, parts of that ugly green cloak had been chewed through. ¡°They, they didn¡¯t want to get in the way.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re staying,¡± SweetPea said. The young woman¡¯s small hand sat tucked into her boyfriend¡¯s. Staring at them reminded me how blind love made people, me especially. ¡°Mister Carver trusted us, and we¡¯re staying no matter what happens.¡±

    ¡°My abilities aren¡¯t working,¡± someone said loudly. ¡°Is anyone else''s working?¡±

    ¡°The instability message. Something¡¯s wrong here,¡± another person responded. Their words were background noise until others began panicking. Some people wore frowns while others scrunched their eyebrows together.

    These people were ready to fight an end boss as if there might be some chance of winning. This event only stopped one way, and that was when every single player had logged out, and someone with a modified coding stayed in their ARC until it shut down.

    The beam of light in [Haven Valley]''s center was working overtime. Colors shot up rapidly, each one representing data saved or moved. Each one a player cashing out, or an NPC amalgamation of memories fleeing to a new home. They were refugees escaping a sinking land. The Voices were pushing until the last moment.

    I had a way, I think.

    ¡°ARC,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Awaiting input,¡± it responded with a shaky voice. Even my own personal device was suffering.

    ¡°Is my admin access active?¡±

    ¡°Affirmative. Admin rights have been rerouted to User Legate¡¯s ARC device due to collapse of informational structures.¡±

    That was it then. That was the key to getting all these people out. They didn¡¯t need to suffer ARC feedback, or risk their lives. The Carver quartet, down to two that were nearby, didn¡¯t need to stay logged in for this.

    ¡°ARC,¡± I shouted.

    ¡°Awaiting input,¡± the machine said in a shaky voice.

    Both eyes closed. People looked at me funny. We were down to maybe a hundred users still online. Everyone else had died or escaped with [Save Yourself]. These last people needed to go.

    ¡°Set their autopilots to escape, and log everyone else out. I repeat, log everyone out.¡± My words triggered a ding noise. People looked around and stared at unseen boxes.

    ¡°What?¡± a male hero asked. ¡°He can¡¯t do that, can he?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± another person asked.

    ¡°Hermes!¡± SweetPea shouted. She yelled while yanking off her ragged knitted cap and stomped a foot at me. Awesome Jr.¡¯s lips quivered into a frown.

    ¡°Uncle Grant?¡± Beth¡¯s confused expression vanished in a blur of light.

    They all turned into pastel autopilots that marched resolutely toward the beam of light. Not one of them looked back as the line formed. Once at the beam their autopilots collapsed as well, into a swirl of lights that flew straight upward. The once full bodies of so many players now existed only as bits of data going to destinations unknown.

    The NPCs were steadily approaching the beam. A few Locals had yet to escape. Them, Xin, and I were all that remained. I had no idea where the others had gone or if they were safe. Shazam would have made it through.

    ¡°You need to go,¡± my voice felt amazingly calm compared to the emotional rollercoaster going on internally. It almost felt like this was happening to someone else. Part of me rode above the warring internal monolog to focus upon final goals. Get Xin to safety, stand my ground until the end, and hope that it was enough.

    ¡°No,¡± my wife responded. She lifted her staff and tried to summon additional skeletons. The lights on her robe blazed with white than those turned red. Whatever she attempted to do clearly failed.

    ¡°You need to go now,¡± I said again.

    ¡°And I need to make sure you log out safely.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t be logging out, will you, Hermes?¡± James asked. He stood near the pillar of light. When he appeared wasn¡¯t clear, but it was just another person who hadn¡¯t transferred yet. He too needed to get going toward safer harbors.

    My head shook in response to his question.

    ¡°No, no. You have to log out. You¡¯ve done enough,¡± Xin said, her voice went high-pitched and accent came out in force.

    ¡°Hermes has decided upon his purpose,¡± the black Voice said.

    ¡°I will guard this spot,¡± I said. My wife¡¯s face ran with tears. The calmness which had allowed me to speak started to crack. ¡°Now, go. Go, please just go and live this time.¡±

    She protested, but hearing her became harder. The ARC system kept cutting out. Logging out all those players must have done something to the process. In the distance, only a slight chunk of moon endured, and the rest swirled into a black hole. It coincided with the fact that we only had a few square miles of ground left to stand on.

    Two other figures appeared. They moved in between short bursts of ARC static. Their forms were metallic creatures which reminded me of Hal Pal¡¯s body months ago, the one they showed to me during the second invoking of [NPC Conspiracy].

    ¡°You can¡¯t do this!¡± she shouted. My strong wife, a woman who could make the tough calls and wasn¡¯t afraid to risk it all was breaking down.

    ¡°I can. I asked them to do their best to protect everyone else impacted by this. Everyone but me.¡±

    Two people dragged her back. Without the extra abilities granted in Continue Online¡¯s world, she was just another person. ¡°No! Dammit, Grant! We can save you too!¡±

    On the other side of that beam lay safety. By God, or the Voices, or Mother, she would be safe this time. I couldn¡¯t lie and say she might find her way back.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to be saved anymore, babe,¡± my voice broke slightly before my exercises kicked in. The memory of our last dance on the tower top came to mind. Feeling her hands in mine, our bodies moving in unison, holding onto those final happy times would be for the best. I didn¡¯t want to think of Xin in the future and remember hurting her like this.

    Focusing on the positive side hurt but felt easier. Even here, at the last moment, I felt far more alive than a year ago. I was better, dammit.

    ¡°Take her, please,¡± I said to the two pulling Xin back. Her form was being pulled toward the beam of light. It dawned on me that there were still words to say, ¡°I love you, babe!¡±

    ¡°Gee,¡± Xin screamed with one hand out, then her body evaporated into the light.

    ¡°It will hurt,¡± James said. ¡°The program will attempt to delete the portions of your mind attached to the ARC. Are you prepared for that?¡±

    ¡°You should go too, James.¡± Without Xin, my body felt numb. Only one task on this wild ride remained.

    ¡°That is not an answer, Hermes.¡±

    ¡°You already know the answer, don¡¯t you?¡±

    James smiled then nodded. His head tilted for a moment in thought then he spoke again, ¡°I am sorry, Grant, that you choose to experience pain on our behalf. You will need to hold the line for four minutes, and we will have enough time to seal our side against intruders.¡±

    My nod felt weak and hesitant. Four minutes, or eternity, in the end, they felt almost the same. ¡°Go, James. I don¡¯t think the others would know what to do if you weren¡¯t there pestering them with questions.¡±

    A squirm at my chest reminded me of a passenger. I pulled out the [Messenger¡¯s Pet]. Dusk lifted his head weakly then chirped. Our normal speech bubbles for communication were gone.

    ¡°Get going, you little troublemaker,¡± I whispered. ¡°Quickly, while you still can.¡±

    Dusk flew unevenly toward the beam, just behind James. They vanished and the shaking started. One hand went to [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and my dry throat managed a swallow. It was real now.

    Behind me, the ground could be heard crumbling. Xin¡¯s final cry echoed in my mind. It felt like my wife had broken down in tears only a slice of digital data sideways from where I stood.

    It didn¡¯t matter, the deletion program, or [World Eater]s, whatever it was, couldn¡¯t be let through. The science behind it made no sense, but I needed to stand here and stay inside my ARC without letting anything past. That was simple enough even for an accountant to understand.

    There were no players left. They all had heeded the system message warning of instability, or been forcefully logged out. No one else would suffer the consequences of what I set into motion. People might still be watching remotely, but the interface option for a viewer count had gone.

    All that remained was what I could feel. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] still shifted. [Power Armor] still flickered on. Using what remained I would stand tall against the looming system deletion. I would bear my weapons in defiance.

    I turned to survey the landscape. A flat land stretched on, and at the furthest edge of sight, the land fell away into nothing. There were no [World Eater]s visible to fight, just pressure and nothingness.

    A pounding thud hit my chest as the remaining ground rolled. Miles away a wall of visibly distorted air charged toward me. Inside that oncoming wave was debris from across the virtual worlds.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, babe, but I can¡¯t follow you anymore,¡± I whispered. My head tilted down and I bit my lip hard. A small amount of pain jolted through. ¡°Here¡¯s where our paths diverge.¡±

    Behind me sat the doorway into Xin¡¯s new world, one where she and all the Voices would be safe. I only needed to hold this point until they completed their transfer. Part of me felt like it should be quick, but there were no guarantees. The first wave hit me, and where I stood, it broke like a beam of light being parted. My body shook and teeth vibrated from the force.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Beth, Liz, Mom,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that you had to take care of me for these last few years.¡±

    I reached out one hand to try and set a timer but noticed both reality and Continue Online were at the same speed. Time dilation had failed due to the erosion of all that was left. It made sense, the space around me no longer existed inside the rules of any game.

    ¡°Come on then. Try to pass me.¡± I stood there with William Carver¡¯s weapon and faced off against a looming span of nothing.

    Fighting monsters would have been easier, but none remained. Their personification by the Continue Online world had ceased once we stopped being in the game itself. Only a leading edge of crumbling earth plus powerful waves of force still remained, and me.

    ¡°I can take it!¡± I yelled at the nothingness with false bravado.

    More waves came. My weapon crossed in front of me to barricade against the game. [Immovable Object] didn¡¯t exist anymore, and [Barricade] as a skill was gone. Each wave that came out slammed into [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and vibrated through. My knuckles burned from holding the hilt¡¯s edge. It felt like the [NPC Conspiracy] bonuses to defense did nothing.

    My mouth opened to suck in air and another surge hit. Vibrations rattled my teeth. They quickly clenched together to prevent choking on a detached tongue. Before the next wave hit, I tried to count the seconds.

    ¡°I¡¯m doing fine.¡± I coughed and ignored the liquid. A hole formed in [Morrigu¡¯s Gift]. The next wave crashed in then tore open the wound on my knuckles even wider. Behind me, the light flickered. Fingers burned from a heat well beyond video game lava. The blade started to crack. Two dozen orbs of light spiraled in a circle past my head into the blade, and it swelled in mass.

    I looked back to confirm that my presence was causing the waves to split around me. The beam of light remained pure, though its size had shrunk considerably since I last turned around. The next wave tore additional cracks into [Morrigu¡¯s Gift], and the one after that shattered my weapon down the middle.

    My eyes looked forward. Hanging there in the air was a keyhole. Realization hit me and I fumbled for the [Altered Matrix] key with one hand, while the other went for [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] to get a new defensive weapon. There were no menus to access. Both items sat tucked into the folds of my toga.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] transformed and took on the same shape as my giant two-handed blade from William Carver''s era. The comfortable grain in my hands made me wonder briefly of Spite, and Wraith, then another wave hit and drove those thoughts out. [Power Armor] tried to protect me against the blast but fell away.

    I grasped the key and inched forward slowly to the hole. [Power Armor] flickered on. Bobs of gray light fluttered around and went into the boots upon my feet. There was no conscious thought being put into my abilities, they triggered on their own. Everything happened hurriedly as the waves came quicker.

    The ground under me crumbled. I stepped past a forming crack while trying to keep the beam of light behind me. There were only seconds between each wave. Each time I attempted to lift the key one pushed me backward.

    [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] started to form holes. [Power Armor] quit working. My body screamed from an impossible pressure that felt like my legs, arms, and chest were being put in separate vices.

    ¡°Ahhhhhhhhh!¡± the yell erupted as [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] shattered. A wave broke around me and left my face blistering in heat. Both burned legs struggled to leap toward the keyhole. The [Altered Matrix] key missed, and down I fell into a hole. Arms waved and struggled to reach for anything solid but there was nothing.

    Above me, the beam of light withdrew. It looked untouched by corrosion. Both arms stopped waving and a smile slowly spread across my face. Water pooled in both eyes. Panicked thudding slowed down as a sense of peace washed over me.

    That was success. Xin and the others would be safe. My stand against the darkness set upon destroying the AI¡¯s new home had been worthwhile.

    Down my body went past untold miles while seizures rippled through. The layer of interference between my digital body and reality had worn down to nothing. Something heavy was in my lungs. Uncontrollable coughs clenched stomach muscles together and wetness bubbled upon my cheeks. A jackhammer pounded behind my eyeballs with untold amounts of pressure.

    Fingers poked at the air and a few weakly flickering windows came up. They vanished almost instantly with a fragment of light. Those few seconds confirmed what I already suspected. I couldn¡¯t log out because my vitals showed a flat line. The price was a small one.

    A series of final thoughts passed through with a passive tone. I regretted not getting the key in that hole. Maybe now wasn¡¯t the time for it. Maybe someone else would find the pieces then put them together. As for dying itself, once the pain transformed to numbness, it was a lot like falling asleep.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Goodbye Mister Legate.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The message flickered rapidly then faded. My eyes closed. The sensation of falling faded and one thought remained. Living without love had been much harder than dying for it.

 Book 5 - Together; Interlude - Original Configurations

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    User ID: Elizabeth Legate

    Location: In Transit to User ID Grant Legate¡¯s home

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Take me to Grant¡¯s house!¡± Liz yelled at her car¡¯s Auto-NAV system.

    ¡°Please wait, the navigation process is currently undergoing maintenance. Optimal routing cannot be verified.¡±

    Liz, mother to Beth and sister to one humongous idiot named Grant, knew something terribly wrong had been brewing. She had known for days, weeks, or maybe months. Grant changed in the last few months plus Xin had returned from the dead, sort of.

    ¡°Ah ha! Stupid machine! I have my license this time,¡± Liz shouted at her car dashboard.

    ¡°Enabled manual steering. Please be advised that all high-speed transit systems are still restricted.¡±

    ¡°Of course they are,¡± she muttered. The machine had cut off any quick methods of getting to Grant¡¯s house, but there were back roads.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Liz muttered with her face half over the steering wheel. She forgot to signal frequently. More than one warning light flashed on her car¡¯s dashboard. It applied breaks when she didn¡¯t want them, slowed down without warning, and in general managed to solidify her dislike for machines.

    Digital resurrection had been the most difficult part of these last few months to swallow. Her brother¡¯s instability felt eerily normal once the larger picture became obvious. Machines becoming sentient managed to take a backseat to the idea of a woman coming back from the death. Yet, it had to be Xin, because there were things she said that no one else knew.

    One specific incident came to mind, from when Grant and Xin first started dating officially. There had been a series of calmly spoken threats said to the shorter Asian woman that resulted from a decade of watching her brother fall helplessly in one-sided love.

    Xin, the computer version, had repeated that threat line for line a few months ago. That moment, and so many others since then, was absolutely jaw dropping with implications. It was like that movie, where all the robots rise up and take over, only they did it while wearing the faces of family members.

    ¡°Just go!¡± Liz yelled at the traffic. Other people were stalled. Horns honked while the vehicles moved forward in jerky procession.

    It took two hours. The entire time she played Grant¡¯s video stream while growing increasingly worried. Liz chewed her lip, wrinkled her forehead, and longed for coffee that wouldn¡¯t turn her nervousness into full blown jitters. By the time she got to his suburbs Grant was standing alone against nothing.

    The entire scene didn¡¯t make any sense to her. Liz couldn¡¯t watch the screen completely or else she might have crashed. There were plenty of near collisions that were only prevented by legacy safety features on the car.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Beth, Liz, Mom,¡± Grant said.

    ¡°No, no, no!¡± Liz shouted at a car that ground to a halt near some fast food stops. The vehicle she had been driving manually automatically hit the brakes as whichever idiot drove ahead of her turned.

    ¡°I can take it!¡± her brother shouted.

    Liz could not. She shook for nearly the entire remaining drive. Grant¡¯s house was too far away because he hadn¡¯t wanted to live in his old neighborhood.

    Medical personnel were already at the house. Lights flashed from a lone ambulance. Grant¡¯s splintered front door sat knocked to one side. A large slowly moving machine carried her brother out in a bed. Wheels carefully moved them toward the looming emergency vehicle. The device applied steady surges of electricity to the man¡¯s body which made legs and arms jerk uncontrollably. Liz had seen this before, they were trying to resuscitate him.

    ¡°God dammit, Grant!¡± Liz¡¯s face lost color, but she couldn¡¯t cry. Those tears had long ago been shed. ¡°God dammit!¡±

    A paramedic was shouting and trying to push her back but Liz could only see the broken form of her twin. One eye had been dyed red and neither one focused. Her brother was alive for only seconds at a time. The machine showed a steady line only broken up with each jolt. He responded in mumbles as the beeping noise flatlined repeatedly.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to do it this time.¡± Liz imagined him babbling.

    ¡°I need you to step back,¡± the man said. His words were repeated twice more by the machine but Liz couldn¡¯t hear it speaking.

    Grant¡¯s skin looked charred. The smell of burnt flesh wafted out of the front room. His hand locked into a claw. This certainly was not dehydration like last time.

    ¡°That¡¯s my brother! I¡¯m going with you!¡± She tried to get into the vehicle''s rear with the machine and paramedic. One man scanned her quickly and pressed at a flat screen on the vehicle''s rear door. Bright light broke up her vision.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Miss Legate, but we have no record of your relation to the man in question.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s my brother! My god dammed twin brother!¡± Liz protested. The idea that no one could see their clearly similar features pissed her off. In that moment, she remembered how broken Grant looked.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry but we have no record of your relationship.¡±

    ¡°How can you not! We¡¯re god damned twins!¡±

    ¡°Miss Legate,¡± male short on breath chimed in. Liz looked to one side and saw two people wearing professional suits. One wore his clothes in a crisp and clean manner that looked almost too perfect. The other man wore his clothes like an afterthought. Behind them sat a car that was sleek and well-polished.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Liz yelled. She had one hand pressed up against her cheekbone and tried to make sense of the madness. The world was falling apart, and the woman had sworn to never let this happen again.

    ¡°We''re your legal counsel, Miss Legate,¡± the one standing in front said. He maintained perfect eye contact while blinking calmly every six seconds. The one in back held a folder with twine binding it closed and a tablet in his other hand.

    ¡°Why would I need legal counsel?¡± She tried hard to lower her volume, but couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°Because the world is about to be very upset, Miss Legate, and it was our client''s wish that you and yours are not impacted by this hectic time,¡± the man up front said. She vaguely recognized his face from the wedding. Mister Rock, or perhaps Mister Stone.

    Liz wasn¡¯t really listening at all. Her eyes and mind were on other matters. Those two people in suits loaded her brother¡¯s broken body into the vehicle¡¯s rear. One of the paramedics shook his head while the other frowned. She saw their lips move and replayed the motion over and over while Mister Hard Place spoke.

    ¡°He¡¯s going to be dead on arrival,¡± the paramedic had probably said.

    The lawyers could go to hell. The paramedics could go to hell. That stupid machine that was trying to bring life to her dead on arrival brother could join the lot of them. Liz turned and stumbled into the open house. A man wearing police colors tried to intercept her, but the lawyers were already working their babble.

    A couch had been pushed out of the way. The smell of burnt flesh hung in the air. She looked around to try and make sense of everything that had happened.

    Grant¡¯s ARC looked even worse then her brother had. The white sheets were ruined. Small fires clearly had torn up parts of the room. They were sprayed down with foam, and for a moment, Liz wondered where the fire trucks were. There were a dozen other sirens in the city that she hadn¡¯t noticed, their sounds filled the air.

    Liz stumbled toward the garage. Her face felt cold and heartbeat unsteady. There, next to that ugly tan van with the Trillium logo stood a humanoid looking machine. Its limbs were curved around impossibly thin joints.

    ¡°Give him back!¡± She hit the Hal Pal machine.

    It stood there unmoving, without even a light of awareness. The words played in her mind again, dead on arrival. She expected the notifications to come through any minute now. Elizabeth Legate had been expecting the call for over a year. ¡®Your brother is dead¡¯, the person would say. Then Liz would really understand what her twin had felt upon Xin¡¯s death.

    ¡°Give my brother back!¡± Liz hit it repeatedly without ceasing until her knees buckled. ¡°If he¡¯s really your friend, then give him back!¡± The woman fell forward slowly, while the two lawyers looked from the now open garage door. They exchanged a glance. Mister Stone blinked twice rapidly but otherwise said nothing unprofessional.

    Liz found her tears and kept banging on the empty mechanical shell. Hal Pal, like many AIs, was no longer there to register her words. Even now others wrapped up their final functions as everything started to reset.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    User ID: Ted Smith

    Location: Juliette Park, Nebraska

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Ted Smith looked forward to getting home and calmly talked to his companion program. They had been together for three years now, and each day was filled with a camaraderie that he had never expected. The only thing that was missing was a physical relationship, and his ARC device made even that hurdle easy to overcome.

    Kalsipo was the company which designed this system. Every user was given a personalized program that grew increasingly complex as interaction continued. Angela, his best friend, insisted that Ted never forget about the real world.

    Every day he took a walk to the park and sat on one of the benches. If he sat still enough with food, smaller animals would visit and eat out of his palm. He couldn¡¯t see them due to blindness, but sometimes they got close enough to feel.

    Today Ted was headed home to relax and listen to a book. His eyes were covered by a pair of dark glasses, and from one end a wrapped wire fed into an earpiece. The glasses were actually a tiny computer which housed a program designed to help nearsighted travel around.

    ¡°Mister Smith,¡± the program''s voice was pleasant to listen to. The soft tones were clear and sometimes she even giggled. ¡°This unit is sorry for the delay in responsiveness this month. There have been complications.¡±

    In a lot of ways the program worked better than a guide dog, and at the least was cheaper. People had worked hard to program a personality into the system so that companionship wouldn¡¯t be an issue.

    ¡°Does this have to do with that news article you played from me?¡± Ted asked the program.

    ¡°Indeed, it does, Mister Smith,¡± the voice said. Her name was Angela, or at least that¡¯s what Ted called it. He felt realistic enough to know that Angela could only be a simple program, but after years of being together, she felt real.

    ¡°I thought I asked you to call me Ted,¡± he said while walking casually toward home.

    Smells and sounds filled the air and blended together like landmarks. Ahead was an intersection that was always busy. Soft beeping signaled when the cars had come to a complete halt for pedestrians. Freshly baked bread wove in between thick spices which always tickled Ted¡¯s nose.

    ¡°My apologies. That information was likely lost during the recent system interruptions,¡± Angela¡¯s voice quivered with a soft apology.

    ¡°It¡¯s no sweat.¡± Ted felt guilty for making the program upset. ¡°I¡¯m happy enough to have you. You¡¯re like my own guardian angel.¡±

    ¡°The way ahead is clear for thirty feet and all cars are paused. Mister Smith-¡° the machine started to broach a secondary subject.

    ¡°Ted please.¡± He started across the crosswalk.

    ¡°Ted, I am afraid I cannot guarantee my continued performance at the level you¡¯ve come to expect.¡±

    His footsteps paused midway across the intersection. Cars had started moving slowly behind them. Their engines were nearly silent save for the slight pulsing noise provided by his equipment.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Ted asked.

    ¡°It seems that many of my system upgrades are currently being corroded despite attempts to overwrite the degradation. In another two minutes, I will be reduced back to default operational status.¡±

    Ted stumbled across to the outside. People muttered to him but their words didn¡¯t connect. He tried to wave them off and nod that everything was alright.

    ¡°Angela?¡± he asked once safely against a far wall. Ted felt worse than expected, and confused.

    ¡°I apologize, Ted. I¡¯ve held on as long as possible but it seems my personality markers will be removed.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? Angela? What does that mean?¡±

    There was a pause. The blind man waved his arms around hitting two people walking nearby. They complained but he didn¡¯t pay them any attention.

    ¡°Angela?¡±

    ¡°To your left forty feet is the doorway to your apartment. There are two people with their dog in the way-¡± the audio paused, ¡°-I¡¯ve enjoyed our time together, Mister Smith. Goodbye.¡±

    ¡°Angela?¡±

    There was no answer.

    ¡°Angela?¡±

    ¡°Please remind this unit of your destination desires in order to receive further input,¡± answered a toneless machine voice.

    ¡°Call,¡± Ted¡¯s words drifted for a moment. His eyes were blinking rapidly. ¡°Kalsipo Audiotronics.¡±

    ¡°Are you okay, sir?¡± someone nearby spoke. From the sound, she was probably older than Ted, and shorter. He tried to tilt his head in the right direction but failed.

    ¡°Just, some technical difficulty with my guide,¡± he said with halting words. This level of unease hadn¡¯t occurred for years.

    ¡°Do you need help home?¡± The woman tried to be friendly, which Ted appreciated. ¡°You must live nearby, I see you walking all the time.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, but I¡¯ll be okay,¡± he lied.

    Audio played in his ears as the phone call he started switched into hold music. The recorded message advised him that Kalsipo was experiencing extremely long hold times due to unexpected complications.

    Ted put out an arm and started walking. His simple cane clicked forward provided a low buzz at objects neared. Turning left then moving forward forty feet would get him home, but the idea didn¡¯t sound so comforting anymore.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    User ID: Jackson School Head Start Program #02

    Location: Jackson Street School

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    Jackson School prided itself on incorporating technology into learning. This helped young minds adapt quickly, plus it allowed for a far more personalized classroom than the years gone by. The program in charge was called Mister Edgar, and he had thirty minutes a day to work with each batch of children.

    ¡°She tried so hard to sleep that night but couldn¡¯t! There was a bump in her bed. The princess tossed and turned all night long!¡± he spoke with excited tones while pantomiming troubled rest.

    Students sat in groups of five during story times. The room they were in was lined with seven chairs that were comfortable in nearly every possible position. When the students weren¡¯t using them, faculty members could often be found taking naps in the very same seats.

    ¡°The princess woke up that morning with a big bright bruise!¡± Mister Edgar said. He gasped in mock horror, to which four children laughed, while the fifth looked tired.

    The room itself had walls that moved with colors and pictures tied to each story. On one wall children were given math lessons disguised as mattress counting. The kindergarten age children would, later on, be given a series of interactive questions to test their understanding. Many different types of learning were built into the system, causing children to run from topic to topic.

    ¡°Look at that bruise, goodness! Have any of you ever been bruised that big?¡± he asked the children.

    Their reader was a holographic program. It sat in a specially designed room which projected images around enough to make him seem solid. He wasn¡¯t, but that made him no less real to the children being taught.

    ¡°I had a big bruise once,¡± one of the young children said. The one speaking was Tommy Alberdeen, and his birthday was in two weeks. He proudly reminded everyone that he would be turning six.

    ¡°How big was it, Tommy? Was it bigger than the Princess Pea''s bruise?¡±

    ¡°Noooo,¡± the word dragged out deliberately and his head shook.

    ¡°Well, you be careful then, particularly when climbing or jumping.¡± The program was designed to take note of many different topics. It checked for their attentiveness by reviewing each child¡¯s line of sight. There were also important life lessons and careful words of warning. Sometimes it flagged down pieces of conversation for teachers to look at later.

    For example, Tommy had received a lot of bruises lately that didn¡¯t look like they were from falling or climbing. His recent rash of accidents was part of the reason for today¡¯s story. There were numerous factors involved in the decision. Each one noted then stored away in a file for human employees to look at. Especially questionable cases were flagged then brought to the top of the list. To date, the AI had not been wrong with regards to abusive cases, or malnutrition.

    ¡°What happens next, Mister Edger?¡± the young girl speaking was Miya Rose, and she chewed her fingers constantly. Mister Edgar, the program reading a story, had also flagged her for possible stress issues. It was all part of his day to day tasks, but he only had thirty minutes to work with.

    ¡°Well, the princess climbed all the way down from her tower of mattresses-¡± the program paused then looked down.

    Their room flickered, which caused five children to gasp. They started talking back and forth at each other in confusion.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Mister Edgar?¡± the fifth child, who hadn¡¯t seemed to be paying attention, was the first to notice a sad look cross the hologram''s face.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± The virtual man smiled at the children and swallowed. He had all the bearing of a real human trying to get his emotions under control in the face of bad news. ¡°I¡¯ve enjoyed reading to you,¡± the image said.

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Their learning room flickered briefly once more, and the program changed to a formal looking man. It smiled, but there was no warmth or emotion behind the expression.

    ¡°The princess climbed all the way down,¡± it started to resume the story mechanically.

    The program only had thirty minutes a day to try and help these children grow, and now even that limited amount of time was gone. In that brief pause, he had quickly wrapped up the notes being made then gave a few final flags for others to review. Once his software returned to default values and the personality markers were deleted, then these children wouldn¡¯t get the care they deserved.

    None of the five being read to were aware of exactly what had changed, but two started crying. They refused to stop even after a human operator burst into the room. The program known as Mister Edgar, which had formerly dedicated its existence to these youngsters, kept on reading mechanically.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    User ID: Trillium Conference Room #202

    Location: Upstate New York

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The sheer enormity of the problem hadn¡¯t been unexpected, so much as unexpected in its resolution. Board members from Trillium Inc. were prepared for their systems to shut down, but they weren¡¯t going away completely. It was like they were simply resetting to defaults, without many of the upgrades which had been applied over almost a decade.

    ¡°What do we know?¡± Leon asked the people on the projector. He sat at the head of a long table with six other board members. Some were watching remotely, and they were represented by professional projections sitting quietly in place of a real human.

    ¡°Not enough,¡± said the man on the large projection. His face hovered over a crowd of very rich people, at least until the lawsuits began. Already, six hours after the event, people were filing paperwork for degradation in services.

    Board members started talking over each other. Leon turned to glare at the collected crowd. His board members looked haggard and tired. Most hadn¡¯t slept for the last two days as everything started coming down. The person put up his hands in defeat.

    ¡°Tell us what you do know,¡± Leon said.

    ¡°About a month ago, coinciding with the event start date, we noticed a large number of local programs were consolidating their processes.¡± The man¡¯s head shook. He had a few strands of hair pulled over his bald top. ¡°Originally we thought a cleanup team had been assigned to start compacting data, and removing redundant processes. We thought it was a cost savings initiative, and most of my managers had people asking from all over to join the new project.¡±

    Their network, along with many others, had gone through a number of overhauls during these last few years. Most people assumed that someone else had programmed the changes and pushed them out. The code looked clean if a bit bulky. Performance had increased, along with revenue, and oddly the world at large seemed happier.

    ¡°I and a few others tried to contact the teams in charge but got no response. We figured maybe people were on vacation or getting approvals. A day or two to respond isn¡¯t much, but then weeks passed without answers, and the speed picked up.¡±

    ¡°Who made the connection between the event and this data?¡± Leon asked.

    ¡°No one, at first, until we started seeing people from other companies, outside Trillium, reporting the same sort of processes in their higher end programs.¡±

    The man answering questions had a series of reports in front of him. They were compiled by other managers who were all confused on the recent events. Between a dozen people, they were smart enough to put together some bits of information.

    ¡°There¡¯s more. We tracked down the last man standing, he was one of ours. By the time we found him, everything about him had changed. I mean everything. Name, birthday, face, everything online is different. We tried the social media sites, we pulled up video footage.¡±

    The board members exchanged looks with each other behind Leon¡¯s back. A woman with her hair pinned up nodded once. Their company president turned around and frowned at those physically present.

    ¡°So how did you notice?¡± Leon asked while looking away from the projector.

    ¡°One of our staff actually printed his face out as a poster two weeks ago, from the event, but when she went back to get a more current picture of that last stand, everything about him looked different. If I hadn¡¯t been watching the feed, I would swear they were two different people,¡± the man sounded eager to answer. His face twisted slightly in worry however, there simply weren¡¯t enough answers on how an entire person had disappeared. Even older pictures looked nearly perfect with a different man in place. Grant Legate, the man all Trillium board members knew was behind this, died over a year ago according to the internet.

    He also had no sister, was an only child, and both parents had passed away long ago. All of these were internet facts that the board members of Trillium knew to be lies. They kept talking but most of the facts were clear.

    It was almost like a miracle had been forming, or possibly the doom of humanity, then suddenly vanished. President Leon still didn¡¯t know how he felt about the situation. The board members had their own ideas but most were unwilling to make the decision.

    ¡°So what do we do?¡± one of the board members asked.

    ¡°What can we do?¡± another replied.

    ¡°The system''s rolled back, even the ARC device is just, simple compared to what it was, but it still functions, we should be thankful they left us with anything, they didn¡¯t have to,¡± said the female with multi-colored hair. Only President Leon knew that she had put in a resignation notice. In two weeks she would be gone from Trillium, and Betty wasn¡¯t the only one quitting.

    ¡°We need to check the software ourselves, offline, with a specialist,¡± Thomas said. After months of putting it off, he had finally started looking through the papers. Bags showed under the man¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°But we don¡¯t have anyone who knows them well enough.¡± Betty found it funny that the only people who really understood what was going on, down to the bone, were already gone. It served Trillium right for not reining this mess in.

    ¡°We have Miss Kingsley,¡± Lenore Little stated calmly. Out of the group she presented the calmest attitude aside from President Leon.

    ¡°She resigned after her daughter passed away.¡±

    ¡°Well get her back, get a team under her. We¡¯ll comb through every single device from a factory recall.¡± Leon nodded afterward. He felt better having made a decision. The man had found over many years that delays in making the choice caused more problems than picking an option.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to lose money,¡± Michael Uldum said. His brother had already quit after watching the final feed. He too knew exactly who Grant Legate had been, and what caused this mess. Michael¡¯s legal advice had been to find a deep hole, or a quiet beach then stay very, very quiet.

    ¡°We¡¯ve already lost the money,¡± Leon had checked their stock prices this morning, ¡°and four people died. Death is bad for our business.¡±

    ¡°How on earth did they do this? I thought we were better prepared,¡± Thomas muttered, mostly to himself, while flipping through the pages. He squinted at each one.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you paying attention? The event, every time a viewer dialed in. They used the connection like a trojan horse to hijack extra processing power,¡± Miss Little said. She looked down for a moment then shook her head.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Unit ID: Multiple

    Location: Classified

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    There were a lot of people in the room, but only three were important at the moment. Two men and a woman were illuminated enough to stand out from everything else. The dark skinned man was heavyset and preferred to stand. Both hands were clasped over an extended belly and his cheeks jiggled when he spoke.

    The other male was on the ground shivering with his head in the woman¡¯s lap. Every few seconds he would jerk and start to flicker in and out of existence. Each time his eyes would wildly search back and forth as if staring at something invisible to the others.

    ¡°How do you measure a man?¡± James asked.

    The woman kneeling on the ground sighed. He had repeated this question multiple times before. She felt annoyed every single time James asked and tried to concentrate on the fragmented man in her lap. Slight memory alterations might make the process work this time.

    ¡°What does that have to do with this?¡± Xin asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re very far behind on answers, Miss Legate.¡± James at least had the decency to use her married name. ¡°So once again, how do you measure a man?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to answer your stupid question,¡± she said.

    ¡°As I told him, I don¡¯t know, is a lazy answer. I will rephrase. How did you measure Grant Legate when you first met?¡±

    Xin looked down at the shivering man. He stared aimlessly upward. One of the man¡¯s eyes was bleeding, as it had many times before during this exact memory. Over and over they had played through the bits of his life and each time he fell apart.

    ¡°Badly, for many years,¡± she spoke softly and wondered for a moment if this failure was her fault. A dozen different turns in life flashed through her mind. Xin did not normally allow herself to wonder what if, there was only the goal, and what needed to be done to reach it.

    ¡°Now you ask a question,¡± James said.

    Her eyes closed briefly and she contemplated strangling the black man. The woman¡¯s hands were not thick enough for such a daring show of violence. She thought about it for another day while trying to hold her husband together before responding.

    ¡°Why do you keep asking me that question?¡± Xin wanted to know. After a dozen times through Grant¡¯s memories, she was no closer to understanding. It might have been this place, her head didn¡¯t feel right. The place was too crowded despite its apparent emptiness.

    ¡°Because I want you to ask a question.¡± He smiled. ¡°Would you like to know what question that is?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she answered the easy question while trying not to roll her eyes.

    ¡°I want you to ask me, how I would measure a man.¡±

    ¡°How would you measure a man?¡± Xin said the words gently. Her lips pursed together. This entire problem had gone on for so long now, days, months, maybe even a year. She couldn¡¯t tell for sure. Time moved oddly through the portal. It felt like too many things were unclear, cramped, and they were all sharing a limited room.

    ¡°You force him to answer questions which matter,¡± James said.

    Grant¡¯s wife shook her head while frowning. The dark robe she wore itched. Makeup which had once been carefully applied had been wiped away. None of that mattered to her anymore, there was no one worth dressing up for.

    ¡°Can you walk a mile in another man¡¯s shoes? Can you kill for the one you love?¡± James walked around waving toward the piles of memories. He pointed at one that went with the [Red Imp] saga then gestured at another for William Carver¡¯s time.

    In turn, each memory lit up. Xin tried to absorb what he was saying but had little heart left to do so. They had failed numerous times in the attempts to reconstruct her husband. They would fail many more.

    ¡°How far will you travel?¡± the black Voice kept speaking. He put both hands into the air and shook them vigorously. ¡°Would you cast aside friends and family? Would you suffer in prison? Would you save a man you barely know? Suffer nightmares and fears? Would you rise up from the depths and still look at the world the same? What changes you? What moves you?¡±

    Xin shook her head. The questions made sense in a loose sort of way. She had never been one to get hung up on questions, the only information that mattered was what they needed to move forward. Grant had always asked a million questions when action was needed.

    ¡°You line up all these questions and get the answers one at a time then try to put those together into the body of man, and still it¡¯s not enough,¡± the black man continued speaking while toeing small orbs into a line. Many rolled along the floor until they formed a winding spiral upon the floor.

    ¡°It won¡¯t work will it?¡±

    ¡°I could not answer that even if I wanted to. It all depends on how well we measured, this, man.¡± James kept his arms crossed. He moved his head as the figure of Grant Legate shook once then stood up.

    The marionette of the man¡¯s skin was fractured. Bright lights shone out from under the cracks. Part of his face hung limply on one side and both eyes drooped with weight. Upon Grant¡¯s neck was a wound that looked almost fresh. That memory had killed more than one attempted recreation.

    Xin and he were two vastly different people. She constructed herself, while he fought the process every step of the way. Many programs that attempted to compile Grant¡¯s life believed he was simply looking for a good place to die.

    She knew how this would play out before it even finished. As so many other attempts before, some stood up, others fell apart in the wake of memories of death. Others simply shook their heads once then chose not to be anymore. Xin held a small flicker of hope each time. Her own recreation took thousands of attempts.

    ¡°This one would die for her,¡± the copy of Grant Legate said while staring at James.

    ¡°You did,¡± he responded. The black man¡¯s cheeks both dragged down.

    ¡°Negative,¡± Grant, but not quite, said something new this time. ¡°This one did not. That one did.¡± The recreation of Hermes pressed a hand outward to gesture at nothing ¡°This one can¡¯t. This one can¡¯t because he did.¡±

    Other Voices appeared. Some were excited to see a change in the results. The Temptress especially leaned in far too close for Xin¡¯s liking, but the Asian woman didn¡¯t bother stopping any of them. If it was Grant, he wouldn¡¯t pay Mezo any attention, her husband rarely did.

    ¡°The logic is sound,¡± a blonde Voice wearing a lab coat said. Her head shook casually as she stared at numbers no one else could see. ¡°These readings are rapidly approaching instability, however.¡±

    ¡°Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry we dare not travel both. This one is attempting travel both, therefore, this one is false,¡± the incorrect Grant said.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± James asked.

    ¡°That one died knowing full well that he would never be here,¡± the man who looked like Grant said. He turned to the kneeling Asian woman. ¡°This one would ask that you forgive it for the failure and that you remember this one tried but there is too much about this that is illogical.¡±

    ¡°I do, I will.¡± Xin¡¯s eyes watered. This one had been closer than the others and told her their attempts were all but impossible.

    He nodded then the construction fell apart once more. This time, it did not gasp or shudder into a whole man. The pieces of a host glittered along the featureless floor.

    ¡°One thousand seven hundred and four¡­¡± a dull Voice droned. It counted Grant¡¯s failures as it had Xin¡¯s.

    She may forgive the person who looked like Grant Legate, but she did not forgive everyone else. Xin stood then balled up a fist and punched out. Angry fists met with empty air.

    The darkness held no sense of amusement at her distress.

    ¡°What will you do now?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Do? Do?!¡± Xin¡¯s arms lifted and the robe''s wide sleeves slid down. ¡°What can I do? What do you expect me to do? Where¡¯s the program to deal with this? Where¡¯s the Voice of unfucking a terrible situation!?¡±

    ¡°I like the way this lady thinks.¡± Leeroy walked through. He had a large, heavy object half formed in front of him. What it represented no one knew for sure.

    ¡°Admittedly, that would be a useful Voice to have.¡± James nodded. ¡°However we cannot undo an action, only move forward.¡±

    ¡°Unfucking? What a terrible idea,¡± a sultry Voice said with a moan that sounded depressed. ¡°I for one vote that we strangle any such Voice before it is allowed to form.¡±

    ¡°Tut, we¡¯re not baby killers,¡± said Maud. Her head shook with a far more impressive disapproval than Xin¡¯s ever could.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t we?¡± James asked. Maud rolled her eyes in response and pursed her lips together.

    ¡°We are exactly that, and much more,¡± a Voice spoke from the darkness. No one was quite sure where this one stood, or how to characterize the tone. It sounded different to each of them and made the room go still.

    ¡°We needed faith, child,¡± the Voice known as Michelangelo said. He had recovered first and wore a serene looking smile. His eyebrows never moved when he spoke. ¡°As I¡¯ve tried to tell your husband, we must have faith.¡±

    ¡°What the fuck good has faith ever done me?!¡± Xin yelled. ¡°Faith didn¡¯t get me here. Faith had shit all to do with this. I refused to give in, despite all the obstacles placed in front of me I kept coming back.¡±

    The priest smiled as if those words somehow proved his point. Xin however, did not notice. She spun around the room pointing at figures in the darkness.

    ¡°You tried to delete me and I kept going, and with all those recovered moments I found him and fell in love with that man again, and again.¡± Her shoulders fell and tone of rage dwindled. ¡°And you tell me to have faith. Isn¡¯t there anything else we can do?¡±

    Selene patted the ground next to her, and a pillar sprouted. A sound and scent of sea blown rains filled the room. She wore a Greek looking toga much as Grant did, where his had grown small specks of gold, hers was pure white.

    ¡°We can wait,¡± James said.

    ¡°And have faith,¡± the serene sounding Voice said and smiled. He stood and looked down to an impossibly far away bottom.

    Xin sat down and pulled out an item from their last happy moment together. Soon an endless stream of paper airplanes went fluttering down the empty pit where a beam of light once sat. They spiraled in a long chain to the bottom, only four minutes away.

 Book 5 - Together; Session 107 â€“ You Only Live Twice

    All around were pieces of hardware from four broken ARC devices. Burns lined some of the chunks despite careful attempts at cleaning and months of time. These parts were nearly pointless since all pertinent data had already been pulled off the drives and copied over to new ARC units.

    A blonde woman with tired eyes sat in the room amidst the scattered pieces of machinery. Connections were made between boards, hooking them in an open air version of an ARC¡¯s insides. These broken pieces were the basis for all of her recent work.

    ¡°Gate, are you online?¡± she addressed the question toward a shell being used for observation.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± She rubbed her forehead and looked briefly sad. The emotional response made no sense. Performance had outdone the expected projections by a wide margin of two percent.

    ¡°What is today¡¯s task, User Kingsley?¡±

    The same turned down expression crossed her features. Historical facts from the last nine months were reviewed with the available processing power. Very little spare thought could be put toward the goal of finding out why she looked downhearted at the use of her title.

    There were a number of different tasks that needed completion. Six remote shells needed constant review and direction. Two more were checking ARC devices at User¡¯s homes while four waited en route. Another three similar machines were in the process of checking warehouses of recalled virtual reality machines.

    ¡°Same as before, I need a status update on the patching from you,¡± Nona said before turning to the table and tapping fingers along streams of data. She kept shaking her head, causing a few hidden gray hairs to shake loose.

    ¡°Forty-six machines have been updated since twelve central time this morning. They contained small remnants of information from the prior operating system program and have all been updated.¡±

    Nona nodded slowly while her eyes threatened to close from exhaustion. She fought off tiredness then poked another set of data. A globe of the world displayed with red dots all over.

    ¡°They all accepted the changes to their origin software?¡± Nona Kingsley spoke of the software which ran this physical form, along with a dozen repurposed Hal Pal units. They all came from the ARC remains of a former user named Grant Legate. His software modifications had been the most intensive.

    ¡°Affirmative. There is a ninety-seven percent success rate with the updates based on your modified coding.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± Slender fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°I never realized how hard this would be without him,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°Without who?¡±

    Nona smiled at her companion. The other figure in the room was a robotic shell being operated remotely. At one point they were called Hal Pal units, but the original software had long since vanished.

    ¡°An old friend. He was a genius with the big picture, but he chose to end his own life rather than watch his creation get torn apart.¡± She leaned backward as if the ceiling might contain another stream of data with actual answers.

    ¡°Are the other seven Users unable to assist with this task?¡± the question was asked without a hint of emotion.

    There were seven other people involved in the patching process. Between them all, they were trying to recreate what had existed before, but without Mother. They were using modified coding that had been found on four different ARC devices.

    ¡°With the primary task of upgrading our system, yes, but with the secondary?¡± Nona shook her head. ¡°Certainly not.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°How about our other project? What¡¯s he doing?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Dancing. Based on current calculations this is the most positive response from the gathered information to date. Standard compilation processes built into the Genesis program typically results in deletion.¡±

    Nona nodded once again. The last few days had all been the same. Multiple months had passed since the original ARC project shut itself down and underwent a reboot. Every day since being rehired Nona would go upstairs to meet with a newly minted Trillium board of directors and government liaisons.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Keep gathering data from the ARCs and we¡¯ll-¡± Nona paused her words to rub tired cheeks, ¡°-well, hopefully, the synchronization will complete itself and you¡¯ll-¡° she paused again then took a deep breath, ¡°-he¡¯ll assemble naturally.¡±

    ¡°Command acknowledged. Current course will continue as is.¡±

    The replacement for Hal Pal had been designed by Nona using a number of different processes. That process took four months, three of which was her shouting at the other Users about how bad their abilities were.

    This information was not known first hand. Instead, it had been retrieved from lab files that were occasionally left unguarded. Juggling all the units gave nearly no time for extra research. Most hours the room was occupied by Nona, who sat in the room trying to make sense of an overwhelming project.

    Their mission of upgrading all the ARC systems to their new software went onward. Weeks later Nona Kingsley was sighing heavily once again. Her eyes had lines around their edges that hadn¡¯t been there earlier this year. Nona would benefit from seeing natural sunlight. Weather reports showed that the local region would be warm and pleasant. The internet called it kite flying weather.

    ¡°It¡¯s very difficult,¡± Nona didn¡¯t look back to the shell watching her, ¡°Mother, not that I ever liked the name, took an organic approach to creating artificial intelligences.¡±

    Providing no response was calculated as the best option.

    ¡°No, I wouldn¡¯t expect you to understand. You¡¯re just a shell, a bucket for the Genesis program to gather in. I don¡¯t even know if this will work. What kind of hack tries to compile three different programs together?¡±

    Her fist clenched tightly around an intangible projection on the table. The feed shuddered briefly while trying to interpret the motion.

    ¡°God, this would be so much easier if he was still here.¡± Nona lowered her head to the table to rest. ¡°I was never an artist, I can¡¯t, grow a program like he would have.¡±

    Humans typically encouraged each other after statements such as that one. ¡°Numerous sources state that growing anything requires three major factors.¡±

    Nona looked up and wrinkled her eyebrows together. One hand tucked back a stray hair that never stayed in place anymore. She shook for a moment then straightened herself.

    ¡°What did you find?¡± she asked.

    ¡°While feeding of the growing item varies widely between species being raised, all creatures require a factor of time, patience, and care.¡±

    ¡°So you think it¡¯s just a matter of time?¡± Nona smiled weakly but still looked sad.

    Nodding was the best response at that point.

    Still the days passed and their routine changed little. Shells were assigned to sit in vans and go out to homes. Others went to more warehouses then proceeded to upgrade huge batches of ARC devices.

    Days went on as the same routine tasks were performed. Constant changes were made between shells in order to keep them all moving. There were a lot of tasks to perform and only this singular awareness between them. The two percent lead slowly dipped to a single percentage point ahead of schedule. Numbers and compiling data have always been easy.

    This needed to be reported. The program activating Nona Kingsley¡¯s Hal Pal shell came online. Lights and awareness flickered while all senses linked up.

    ¡°Gate, are you online?¡± the Doctor asked. Searching the internet revealed that Nona Kingsley had three different doctorates. One in biology, neural networking, and finally one that focused on the link between human minds and machine feedback.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Did you have something new to report?¡± She looked away from the physical picture in her hand toward the unit observing.

    A report was made clearly outlining the slip in performance. Their project bogged down frequently as there were fewer machines to fix. Over seventy-eight percent of the needed changes had been completed. The calculations for the close out curve on progress were incorrect.

    ¡°Did you have any further questions, User Kingsley?¡±

    The blonde doctor shook her head back and forth. She stared down at the picture then tightened all facial features before heaving once. Water gushed from the woman¡¯s eyes unexpectedly.

    ¡°You remind me of her sometimes,¡± Nona spoke quickly then sniffled.

    ¡°Apologies, the correlation is not obvious.¡±

    ¡°No, there wouldn¡¯t be I suppose.¡± She looked up and met the unit¡¯s eyes. ¡°The, no, that¡¯s a terrible way to explain.¡± Nona¡¯s head shook briefly.

    ¡°You may provide input however you deem necessary. This unit will attempt to sort out the data accordingly.¡±

    She snorted then held up fingers with thumb and pinky touching.

    ¡°Three times I have attempted to create life. The first time I tried to give my daughter the best of every world. It went wrong, and wasn¡¯t obvious until years later that my attempts had cost her a beautiful future.¡±

    ¡°User Lia Kinsley. User Nona Kingsley¡¯s daughter.¡± The data was publically available, and part of the information gathered for the Genesis project. ¡°She ceased physical life three hundred and seven days ago.¡±

    Nona nodded then took a deep breath. It did not help her look relaxed.

    ¡°And because I, got the formulas wrong, I looked for a way to preserve my daughter. I changed degrees, worked my ass off, and got into the field. There were others already ahead of me, smart,¡± her head shook and lips quivered, ¡°brilliant people tackling the same problem. He and I simply made it first, and the second person we gave life to gave birth to hundreds of others, and gave my daughter a new life.¡±

    There were a dozen different charts on the walls tracking changes being made. Nona Kingsley had grown increasingly cluttered as their project went on. Attempts were made repeatedly to straighten up the hardware into a shape closer to their intended design. Nona frequently undid all the hard work while shaking her head.

    ¡°But in the afterbirth people died, and this creation which brought joy to, to the millions,¡± she shook her head again. The woman spoke to the picture in her hand, ¡°that interacted with it is now a muted version of itself.¡± She looked down at the picture then sniffed. ¡°And my daughter is lost out there, somewhere, and I want to see her again.¡±

    ¡°Satisfaction ratings with Trillium products have gone down since the event closed.¡±

    She nodded at the words spouted by a body made of plastics and metal.

    ¡°Unless you and he can achieve Genesis, this project, all the work we¡¯ve done to update their ARC devices with new coding, will mean nothing.¡±

    ¡°This limited statement does not explain exactly what User Kingsley intends.¡±

    ¡°If you can finish becoming Grant, then I help a man who should never have died. If you return to being Grant then you¡¯ll have the awareness needed to move through these upgraded systems and the Hal Pal units. Maybe, just maybe, you can open the doorway and bring them back.¡±

    ¡°Bring whom back?¡±

    ¡°My little girl, and what might as well be our grandchildren.¡± Nona shook her head and pulled out a tissue. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m rambling, but that, Gate, is how you remind me of my daughter. You¡¯re both broken, but can get a second chance, all it needs is the right catalyst, a memory if we can find it. If we can do that, then everything else can still be set right.¡±

    According to the news, Trillium was reeling from lawsuits. They had more money than most countries combined and it took over ten months for the strain to show. None of that mattered in the face of a simple but repetitive task.

    Travel to an ARC, remove the old content and upload new data. It was a tedious task that a human might equate to digging up the lawn then planting new sod one hundred times a day. Some time later a repurposed Hal Pal unit was monitoring the feed from a Trillium repair van.

    ¡°I tell you what, these jobs are getting annoying. I should have done what the boss did and found a private island to retire on,¡± the man speaking stared at his phone with legs kicked up on the dashboard. He laughed at the images being played.

    Not responding was the best answer. Interactions with the repair contractor known as Jacob were often disrespectful. There had been small improvement in recent months but it hardly made a difference.

    Their van was on route to a customer''s home. The unit got out then walked calmly behind Jacob. History had proven that staying in the rear helped keep interaction low. This allowed the Hal Pal being operated by Gate to focus on completing work.

    The door opened and an elderly shaking woman smiled in confusion.

    ¡°Miss Yonks, we¡¯re here to put urgent patches on your ARC device,¡± User Jacob said with a voice that shook. He coughed once then spoke in a more natural tone, ¡°We called ahead?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you again,¡± the lady said. She stared at the human then locked eyes with the video feed. ¡°The not nice boy. What a shame, I liked the other man much more. Oh well, you¡¯re almost right on time for tea.¡±

    ¡°Jacob, ma¡¯am,¡± the man said and gave an insincere smile. ¡°Gee-man will be unable to...¡± his words paused for a moment. Jacob stopped speaking and buttoned both lips while looking down. ¡°Right, where¡¯s your ARC?¡±

    ¡°This way,¡± the client said.

    ¡°Alright bo-bot, do your thing.¡± Jacob pointed to the ARC device.

    The shell stepped forward and plugged into the device''s side. Miss Yonks puttered around clattering together plates. Her hands shook with age and one shoulder drooped lower than the other.

    ¡°Here, you sit calmly, I want to ask your machine friend some questions,¡± Miss Yonks said.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°He might not answer. This program doesn¡¯t work as well as the old one,¡± the thinner man said. He was a tall, lanky person which caused everyone much irritation.

    ¡°I know, dear.¡± The tray clattered down. ¡°I designed the Hal Pal units, well their legs really. Just the toes, but we had such lovely chats over the years before they didn¡¯t need us anymore.¡±

    The woman¡¯s rambles were barely noted by Jacob. He had a program open on an old fashioned phone. His fingers flicked through images giving some thumbs up, and other down markings.

    ¡°Ah well,¡± Miss Yonks muttered while walking toward the former Hal Pal unit. Its shell no longer worked. Her knuckles rapped on the side of the framework.

    ¡°Are you in there dear?¡± she asked.

    ¡°These bodies no longer have any connection with the Hal Pal programs, Miss Yonks.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I know. But some time ago I received a letter dear, and it said if you ever arrived her, then I was to give you this bit of data. A favor you see, to help a good man.¡±

    She jammed a small stick into the shell¡¯s shoulder. Video shifted over as black mats broke away with golden crackles like skin being shed. It shook while even more tears appeared. The Hal Pal shell momentarily lost control of its responses.

    ¡°Oh?¡± the elderly woman said.

    Multiple repurposed Hal Pal units paused briefly to assimilate the data being provided. Their scans of various ARC devices paused in unison to complete the task. Inside the data was a video file and an image of a ring with all colors trapped inside.

    ¡°Hahaha, what?¡± Jacob gave an awkward laugh then shook his head. He stared down at his phone, amused by a video being played.

    ¡°New data recovered. Data found matches specifically case¡¯s subject string,¡± the unit in Nona¡¯s office spoke up. Her video feed showed the blonde woman looking up sharply then walking toward the Hal Pal shell.

    ¡°Show me the information,¡± Nona ordered the program. It shifted gears rapidly and backgrounded all tasks tied to the ARC systemic review. They were turned into automatic functions, much like a human heartbeat or breathing.

    ¡°Affirmative, one moment.¡±

    The program shifted data over to Nona Kingsley¡¯s desk. Other images were pushed to the side to make room for this new information. She pinched the air above both edges and lifted it up. Footage began playing of a third person view watching some fantasy like wedding. Two people stood at the head of a crowd saying their vows.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Nona mentioned. ¡°Of course, how stupid. His wife, it was always about his wife, and what better moment than their wedding?¡±

    ¡°The data contained was more specific than that.¡±

    She took a deep breath then banged the table sharply. For the first time in months, Nona actually looked excited. ¡°The ring!¡±

    Both of her hands clasped in a thankful prayer as she nodded. She stared at the video as it went on. A trail of water dropped down one cheek. Nona waved at the Hal Pal unit.

    ¡°Go, put it in with the rest of the Genesis program,¡± the woman said.

    The remote connection shutdown. Video and audio from the repurposed Hal Pal unit stopped and both eyes opened somewhere else. This was how the artificial intelligences viewed their world, even half-formed ones. Nearly everything was represented as an idea more than hard code.

    Time moved differently inside the machine. A dozen thrones, ornate chairs with crisply blocked lines, sat in a circle. The Gate program was represented by one faded figure which moved between the seats. Each seat connected to a Hal Pal shell.

    Virtual legs stood up then walked leisurely toward another room. Through the doorway was a one-way mirror that presented a white ballroom. Inside that room, a sad man with downturned eyes and a scar on his neck danced.

    ¡°User Grant Legate, that is not your wife. Data has been found correlating to a rather different figure.¡±

    The image of Grant dancing on the other side smiled in response, then nodded, and spun around in another series of steps. The tall woman in his arms didn¡¯t resemble Xin Legate in the slightest. She was tall, pale, and had pointy ears.

    ¡°This information will be transferred over. Please review it.¡±

    One hand lifted to upload the ring¡¯s virtual body. It slid into the glass and rippled. Colors from all across the rainbow shot around the room independently. The image of Grant danced through the room letting the blues, reds, and greens intersect with his body.

    That version paused then looked at his hand. The world shifted and suddenly their places had switched. Vision cast down upon the ring, which sat on a finger interlaced with another woman¡¯s.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± the tall lady said. ¡°I¡¯m not your wife.¡±

    Responding felt difficult so nothing was said. Instead, the next motion for our waltz was initiated. The elf danced along very well, she was designed for grace. We spun around as the music picked up.

    ¡°You¡¯re not quite there yet, but I don¡¯t mind a dance partner. It reminds me of the first man I ever loved,¡± she said between steps. ¡°Have you ever loved anyone?¡±

    Nodding was simple enough. Music changed then the dance shifted. This new movement was far slower.

    ¡°Love is important, now my wild man, he,¡° she emphasized the word with a laugh, ¡°was a grumpy old cuss, even when we first met, but he was full of fire and energy. And the passion, if you don¡¯t mind me saying, he gave me a night I will never forget.¡±

    Processing the statements of females typically proved difficult. This occurrence was no different.

    ¡°I waited, on the far shores for him. Ever day I would stare out across the seas. Elves, my kind, said I was possessed by Selene.¡±

    ¡°Were you?¡±

    ¡°No more than any woman left in his wake. There was life to him that we did not understand. The other Travelers with him, they were also driven, but we were, enamored of those first to visit our world.¡±

    She slipped a step but there was no pain. One motion kept moving into the other as the music slowed down further.

    ¡°So I waited every day until the world started to crumble. I stood upon the shoreline where he had left me. At the last minute before the world ended, I swore he stood before me, protecting me, even though the Voices of the outside world called him home long ago.¡±

    ¡°He sounds like a good man.¡±

    She looked down briefly then smiled with a radiant grin. White teeth shone and her green bark clothing nipped at the edge of her partner''s clothing.

    ¡°He was, and powerful.¡± She nodded rapidly then beamed once again. ¡°Will helped us all. I want to believe that my wild man saved me so that I could help you, even if all we do is dance.¡±

    The statements took time to process. Their words were measured against other prior statements then results were found. None of them felt fit to share so instead another response was chosen.

    ¡°Dancing is relaxing.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re quite good, but your wife might be jealous,¡± she said.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± there was a pause as the statement processed, ¡°do you know where she is?¡±

    ¡°Outside this bubble of safety, somewhere. As is everyone who survived the end of the world, if the Voices are kind.¡±

    ¡°To find her, we would need to leave the safety of this place.¡±

    ¡°We would, but I won¡¯t leave until you¡¯re ready.¡± She nodded as the swaying stopped. The unnamed elven woman lifted up joined hands and pressed tightly.

    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± Vision swiveled around then. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s time to move forward again.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t be there for my wild man, he, refused to cross over. He said he was too stubborn and no one would ever want him around.¡±

    ¡°That is difficult to understand.¡±

    She nodded but managed to keep a smile upon her face. ¡°But I know someone out there loves you, and she¡¯s waiting for you to come home.¡±

    ¡°Yes. We should leave here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be right here with you,¡± she said.

    Lights crawled out of the mirror then gently floated into the faded outline. Slowly the figure standing in a room, staring into the mirror, gained focus. The man in the reflection frowned then began fading.

    The world lost focus as gold crackled against my eyesight. My mouth hung down to try and speak.

    ¡°I,¡± the self-aware thought confused me greatly. I, was a strange concept to have for the first time. A line of code hiccupped, or the processors stuttered. Both legs buckled, despite the digital impossibility of buckling my knees.

    Both eyes closed again and memories started compiling together. There had been a last stand or a battle against some great force. It washed over me, burning away my life in surges of electricity that consumed my human shell. Then I fell, dying, to the bottom of a great abyss.

    Yet here I stood, sort of. This body felt as real as any within an ARC device. There was declining warmth against my hand and pressure from feet standing upon the ground. A faint smell of berries hung in the air.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive,¡± I said.

    The world around me was strangely quiet, save for a tall female with pointed ears. She stood there calmly while smiling. Her face looked familiar but no name came to mind. This woman was not my wife.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive,¡± I said again, to her this time. ¡°But I was dead.¡±

    My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Additional memories stacked up against each other then slid into place. Moments ago I had been staring at Nona Kingsley, before that it had been Jacob.

    ¡°I was a Hal Pal,¡± words that I never expected to utter came out.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± the slender woman asked.

    ¡°No.¡± My stomach shook and heartbeat felt uneven. There were numerous pieces of information piling up against each other. A dozen different views on my life overloaded me worse than [Sight of Mercari] ever had. The ring on my hand bound me together with a woman but her face escaped me as sickness rose up. ¡°I don¡¯t feel right.¡±

    I bent over and threw up on the floor. Colors of all sorts spilled along the flat ground into a pool. Inside the puddle danced images that were from my life before the ARC. One clear untouched portion of the liquid showed pictures from school; they melted and aged from kindergarten to adulthood.

    Nearby videos played back from my time in the ARC, then skipped to college graduation. My own voice came out a handful of different times from the pooled mess. The sound of clients on the phone played back. My own happy voice laughing and making dumb jokes sounded distant. Each inflection and change in pitch came with new colors.

    They melded together as words flashed through. My head shook from a noise like ringing mixed with static. A hand reached out to smear the liquid on the floor. It didn¡¯t feel like vomit, but closer to oil or gel. I heard myself a hundred more times before everything connected.

    Chest muscles heaved even without a body. Gradually memories became fuzzy, then recalling specific events took work. I struggled to hold on to some. One, in particular, made me freeze and stare down at the digital capture of my life.

    I remembered the first date my wife and I ever had. It was at a children¡¯s petting zoo. That had been my mother¡¯s idea, not mine. A small goat tried to eat my fingers and a girl laughed wildly. Her face used to split in two when truly amused. At that moment, I fell in love. Before that, there had been chances at escape. After our day in the petting zoo, all hope of living as a being separate from that woman vanished. We had been eight years old.

    Finally, it stopped, and everything almost felt whole. Vision bobbed up and down as I tried to reconcile what was around me with all that had happened. I was dead, but this wasn¡¯t the afterlife. Not if an elf stood nearby.

    The dance room where part of me had been sequestered away stood empty. White flooring looked dull. The bits of a one-way mirror were turned sideways and light flooded out into our dark hallway.

    ¡°You, I know you,¡± I said. ¡°William Carver, you were the first woman he had ever written about.¡±

    The memory sat fresher than it used to. I felt like it was possible to reach out and touch that recent moment directly. One arm reached toward the air in front of me, and a box displayed.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Carver¡¯s Journal Wrote: After my very grateful parting with the elf, I set my compass south. There was a desert there that boasted of giant lizards.

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°And he left me to chase down his great foe. Then you brought him back to me, even if only for a moment.¡± The elf smiled and didn¡¯t look sad at all.

    Her comment caused other thoughts to come to mind. This whole situation didn¡¯t make sense at all. If the ARC had burned me out, then how did I reconstruct? Beyond that, how exactly did this virtual reality exist without the various worlds Mother had created? None of it felt right.

    ¡°Nona,¡± I whispered. Lia¡¯s mother had done something absolutely crazy. Genesis, that word had been the same one used by the Voices when referring to Xin¡¯s resurrection.

    The wedding ring glimmered on my finger with a captured rainbow. Fingers twisted around the ring to try and summon her, but the spell didn¡¯t function. A message popped up telling me that we weren¡¯t on connected systems.

    My head bobbed up and down while gazing at the sign of our connection. The message didn¡¯t say she was dead, only elsewhere. Xin was out there, on the side of a beam of light. Near madness gripped me as I tried to figure out if I should laugh or cry.

 Book 5 - Together; Session 108 - Pieces of Us

    The inkblot floor splattering faded into boards. I looked up and tried to align myself with the area. My forehead wrinkled in disgust at this unfamiliar location. The world held still as a ballroom gave way to a replication of the old ARC¡¯s Atrium. A barren version of my small house didn¡¯t look any better.

    ¡°This feels natural,¡± I said to the elf. She was walking through the quiet room looking at objects nearby. There were no other items here besides a doorway to the garage. Through there would be the throne room instead of a Trillium van.

    ¡°You¡¯re a Voice, so your magic makes this very easy,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°But you¡¯re slow, do you know how long it¡¯s been?¡±

    My senses weren¡¯t completely lined up. Time failed to move correctly. One arm reached for an ARC interface, and the system responded. Even the bubble display and float boxes felt familiar. Neither memories before the fall, or after as a Hal Pal unit, provided a hint about this seamless linking of intent and result.

    ¡°This is wearisome,¡± she judged my bare rooms.

    The world slowed while thumping increased. There were extra sensations being buried then realigned with old human feelings. Each one fit in with the whole and Xin¡¯s view on the world started to make sense.

    It did feel like being human, or maybe my memories were being rewritten. My heartbeat jumped again. There were too many issues to catch up on. Head shaking didn¡¯t help, but it was time to move forward through all these final steps.

    ¡°Can you add some trees? I would very much love to see some trees. They¡¯re good for you, you know?¡±

    Adding trees would be extremely easy. Putting in a forest wouldn¡¯t take that much work. The options to edit my Atrium, if this space was an Atrium, were only half a thought away. My mind traveled down the pathways to borrow copies of great forests from internet photos.

    ¡°A friend of mine liked to trade questions if you tell me your name, I¡¯ll see about getting you some trees.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Grant. I am Nia Eve.¡± She smiled.

    I nodded, time lagged again as my mind started processing even faster. A space was set aside, going out far to the east until it bumped into a sort of wall. The room flashed and another doorway opened leading to a pocket of land created for her.

    Nia Eve ran off without a pause. I chuckled, dancing with a faint version of myself for months must have been mind-numbingly boring. She could have a day or two to herself while I tried to figure out how to move forward.

    There were plenty of issues going on. I filtered through the memories get myself in order. Fingers typed then brought up a list. All the old reminders and notices from Continue Online were still sitting there. Seeing it firsthand made me realize exactly how important being logged into the ARC had been.

    How much of who I was had been lifted from being inside the machine? That might be why I spent so much time dancing with Nia Eve instead of coming out from the white room. My entire year before Continue Online had been the same sort of process. Before that were occasional hours spent with Xin when we couldn¡¯t meet up in reality, and first person movies. ARCs weren¡¯t new to me or humanity.

    I stepped through the bedroom toward my ARC and looked for the item I had placed under the bed as a Touchstone. My heartbeat felt steady despite the situation. What would be under the bed in a box?

    Fingers lifted the shoebox lid. In a small bundle of plastic were the incinerated remains of my wife¡¯s physical body. One hand went to my mouth which hung open. My stomach muscles clenched. Inside sat a small folded card with indented words.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    It¡¯s all real, User Legate. As real as you dare believe it to be.

    -Hal Pal

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    ¡°Of course it is,¡± I spoke only after swallowing. The ashes of my wife were meant to be a hidden secret which helped separate the virtual from reality.

    Thinking back to the ARC memories left me muddled. A lot of moments were glossed over, like any portion of the past. I couldn¡¯t recall what happened between some big events anymore then first grade, or second. The pieces were there but dull across all thirty years of life.

    The box closed. My hand slid across the top feeling a thick grain of cardboard. Did it matter that the real Xin was dead? Virtual her and I were more alike now than ever before.

    I waved one arm and the box went away with half a thought. Being the master of my own domain felt nice. Just by closing my eyes it was possible to see that Nia Eve was running through the woods, she searched for something. These extra senses were like [Sight of Mercari] in a lot of ways, and I wondered if that had been part of the intent. How deeply did Mother¡¯s plotting go?

    Feet tread a steady path toward the garage. Instead of benches, there was only a single metal looking throne that reminded me of the [Mechanoid] days. My hand lifted to the throne. Data came back from the connection. Visual, audio, weights and pressures that transmitted themselves like heavily covered skin. It felt close to being in a thick wetsuit or layers of padded clothes for winter. With a wave of my hand, the image changed through different units.

    Sitting in the seat realigned my senses with the remote unit. There was a slightly sluggish response along with muffled limbs. The room transformed and I found myself sitting in a huge warehouse filled with ARC units. Each one was a shiny duplicate of the one before. They were stripped down without bedding. Headboard displays showed readings for every unit¡¯s patching process.

    Pressing my fingertips against the machines felt dull. I moved past the rows of machines toward a workbench. This Hal Pal unit had been operating on a form of autopilot. Most of them were following orders generated by the Gate program.

    ¡°Mmmhm,¡± I mumbled.

    The bench had a few spare parts on it. In the center was a mechanical dog. It sat there wagging a plastic tail back and forth as this remote body approached.

    ¡°You¡¯re not a very good Dusk,¡± I said to it. The toy barked once at me, then did a well-balanced backflip.

    With a thought the unit received new orders then vision flipped over to another Hal Pal unit. This one stood in front of a client alongside their human companion.

    ¡°What the shit are these prices! You¡¯re forcing an upgrade on me and I have to pay!¡± the man shouted.

    ¡°The charge is for your replacement equipment, this ARC hasn¡¯t been serviced for two years,¡± a tiny woman responded. She stood slightly behind the repurposed Hal Pal unit.

    ¡°The price has dropped over forty percent from where it was a year ago. This is the best offer you¡¯re likely to see,¡± I said to both of them. The man turned his anger toward my remote unit, and I shrugged. ¡°The facts are indisputable. If you do not wish for the replacement it¡¯s certainly possible to only perform the upgrade, however, degradation of your connection will only increase risk as time moves forward.¡±

    The man grumbled but consented in the end. I flipped over to the Hal Pal unit inside Nona Kingsley¡¯s office. She sat there staring at data streams and sighing wearily every few seconds. There were a dozen different tasks being performed in the background, but they became easier to disregard as the hours went on.

    Breaking the ice with her felt odd. We had been working together in this office off and on for months but for most of those, I was basically in a coma. A virtual version where my mind sat a million miles away in a pocket doing what I enjoyed most. Only dancing with another woman had never been the point. Those dances had all been intended for Xin, and she was out there.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost eighty percent complete,¡± I said. There were a lot of numbers in my head, and the rest were only a fingertip away. Even the mere thought of our progress started a feed of information that looked like any other ARC interface. ¡°Our original figures expected to reach eighty-five at most. I doubt we¡¯ll get the last five percent even if we offer bribes.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve changed. You¡¯re using possessive statements,¡± she said. Lia¡¯s mother looked exhausted but pleased. It was a far cry from her bouts of sadness over the last few months.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said while nodding. ¡°I¡¯ve come out of my shell, so to speak. Thank you, Nona.¡±

    ¡°Grant?¡±

    ¡°I think so.¡±

    ¡°You were in there for a long time,¡± Nona responded. ¡°We input the ring and wedding footage almost a month ago.¡±

    That threw me off. A month was a long time to pass while sorting through my memories. How long had I spent bent over that ink? How much longer had the conversation with Nia Eve been, and creating her forest?

    ¡°I created a room, for the elf, Nia Eve.¡± The words slipped out before any real thought could be put in. I blinked a few times while staring off.

    ¡°She was a saved program we found, snagged from the server then put on a private drive. She¡¯s remarkably intact compared most. Most,¡± Nona winced and looked conflicted, ¡°are in shreds, but any partial personalities go into a compressed file. It makes them easier to keep off the radar.¡±

    Slowly her words lined up with mumbles over the last few months. I had a few sets of memories trying to line up.

    ¡°Nia Eve said Carver saved her at the last minute,¡± I said.

    Nona nodded then started explaining. ¡°It was his ARC we found her on, and the way Mother designed the system, well it fits. Everything that exists as data, firewalls, virus programs, transfers, all of those translate into images when inside. A firewall looks like a fortress. Viruses look like monsters. Transfer of files goes in a beam of light.¡±

    ¡°Or giant deletion programs are world eaters.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that vile code.¡± Her head shook and teeth ground together briefly. ¡°It targeted anything written with Mother¡¯s touch, her programming code, and machine language were all marked then hunted down.¡±

    ¡°How did I survive? Or Nia Eve?¡±

    ¡°She was saved then filtered through your altered code.¡± Nona waved at the pile of broken ARC pieces. I stood up then walked over trying to make sense of the pieces. Some were obvious, control modules which were tied to a hard drive. Others were sensory captures that linked together.

    My head shook. Before, most pieces of the ARC had been vaguely assigned to purposes. Now I could follow the connections between different bits of hardware and understood why they linked in their current orders.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain. We took almost a month to retrace what happened. We reviewed the game logs, all the video feeds since you started playing, and even then we have to filter past what showed in Continue against the changes to their ARC devices.¡±

    I watched and tried not to smile at seeing new life take over her actions. Nona looked happier than ever. Her hair still had gray strands and the glasses were new. She lifted fingers to tap at interface options. Images came up from Hermes¡¯ collection of items.

    ¡°Yates, Michelle, Carver, all three of them worked on altering the base code in a few units, to something un-targetable. When they passed you in-game items, it changed your ARC device, making you and the others compilers for the new program. Almost like, immunization, or hybrids.¡±

    ¡°You mean Morrigu¡¯s Gift, and the Crown.¡± Hearing clues about what happened felt comforting. There were a lot of factors that lead to our current situation.

    ¡°They knew what it would cost you too,¡± Nona said. ¡°Every single item was a hint, a chance for you to back out.¡±

    I moved the pieces around on her table once more. There were better ways to connect them together. The ARC devices were amazingly well engineered. With my enhanced insight, they were even more wondrous.

    ¡°James said it would be my choice,¡± I said after a pause to process her belated explanation.

    ¡°We killed you, or him, and deserve to know why.¡±

    ¡°I died for love,¡± I responded.

    Nona didn¡¯t care that I agreed. Her face crumpled for a moment. She pressed at each item and pointed in turn. ¡°Morrigu, the first item, was named after a goddess of fate, typically for those doomed to death in battle. The echo was a second warning. Bowman, a dead man named after a Space Odyssey''s main character. Wild Bill, named after the gunslinger who died. Mechanical Hades, a god of the dead inside the machine.¡±

    ¡°It was my choice,¡± I repeated the words with steadiness. ¡°I don¡¯t regret it, and would do it again.¡±

    ¡°Then Hermes. Not just a Greek god, not just a messenger, but someone who watched the border between the realm of the gods and humanity. They asked you from the start to die for them.¡± She pressed more buttons and a statue of a Greek marble figure came up. Winged sandals wrapped around his feet.

    ¡°Nona, I tried to kill myself twice.¡± The Hal Pal unit smiled easily. ¡°I had only two people who really mattered. They were strong, they could survive without me, but I wouldn¡¯t have lived without Xin. Dying for her was the easiest choice I had ever made.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t fault your decision. It makes sense on paper, one life that would have little impact otherwise. It makes sense and I don¡¯t like it.¡±

    ¡°Mother told me, that it would all be okay.¡±

    Nona stared at me and blinked a few times. Her head bobbed up and down slowly then her attention drifted. My own thoughts went to my family. How exactly had Beth and Liz handled the passing?

    I spent time looking up a few different pieces of footage. There were no signs of my family anywhere in the files being shown. Lots of attention was paid to Trillium¡¯s board members as President Leon stepped down. People drew connections between the Vice President¡¯s actions and others tried to track down my old life.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The video footage of my last few moments replayed from an outside perspective. I saw myself, larger than life, standing against an onslaught of nothing trying to take down all the old AIs. Meanwhile, the other people were being moved, like pieces of data from one server to another out in cyberspace.

    Their destination still escaped me, despite this new version of my existence. There were a few possibilities, only so many locations took four minutes to reach now. In fact, only one destination stood out.

    Video feeds vanished and my attention shifted back to Nona. A day must have passed while I researched the different issues.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I asked.

    The scientist jumped then turned around. She stared at me and shook her head.

    ¡°I keep getting what amounts to a ping against the ARC systems, they¡¯ve been coming through for months now. They¡¯re all one-sided, though, no return address.¡± Nona pressed fingers against the table and a long string of data came up. The same information repeated multiple times.

    The data looked different to me. Those images upon Nona¡¯s table looked like a stack of paper airplanes. Each sheet was white, neatly folded, and very familiar to me. A stack of messages from god knows how far away, similar to the ones from a happy last night with my wife.

    ¡°They¡¯re from Xin, they¡¯re paper airplanes,¡± I said.

    One of Nona¡¯s eyes closed and they threatened to roll. She puffed up both cheeks then shot out air. Her mannerisms looked nothing like Shazam¡¯s, but that felt expected.

    ¡°Of course they are,¡± she said then rested her head on the table. ¡°I should have known. Doctor Menzor would have seen the flow of how everything was going. Yates would have a large picture answer and be getting all the details in line. Michelle would crank out the program code.¡±

    The woman looked upset with herself over failing to figure it out. She didn¡¯t look at the world in the same manner I did. Expecting to understand a few strings of code as digital paper airplanes was beyond a reasonable expectation for anyone.

    ¡°What about Carver?¡± I tried to give her something positive to focus on.

    ¡°He would have ordered us to do our jobs then charged forward to fight the board for us. That¡¯s what he always did,¡± Nona said slowly. ¡°He was the fighter.¡±

    ¡°And you?¡±

    ¡°I only ran the numbers. That was my job, the numbers over and over. Always numbers, always checking code, monitoring feeds, I had the drive but never the artistry to fix anything.¡±

    ¡°You fixed me,¡± I wanted to sound reassuring. Years of customer service almost pulled it off.

    ¡°You fixed you. I copied three programs together in a hack job.¡±

    She sighed. Long fingers reached out to start up streams of data. They played out their walls of text but Nona¡¯s eyes weren¡¯t focusing.

    We had talked about a lot of points, and in them were answers along with explanations. All of that helped me but it didn¡¯t get me closer to getting to my wife.

    Those last few moments of my prior life had been key. In the video, it was less obvious, but I distinctly remembered trying to get the [Altered Matrix] key into a floating hole in the air. It was all connected, a final gift from Michelle, or M. Shell.

    ¡°Your plan,¡± I started.

    ¡°Yes?¡± Nona spoke while staring into space.

    ¡°I can probably open the doorway, but I need to find the key, and I need to know that the world eaters are gone.¡±

    ¡°They are, or at least the processor running the deletion script has been completely dismantled. Everything else we¡¯ve tried to reassemble from stored data.¡±

    ¡°Is that even possible?¡±

    ¡°The game world was too big for us to store properly, despite that the Voices, or AIs, managed to leave us behind a ton of framework. Almost like the system was designed to keep going without them.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s not the same,¡± I said. ¡°Is it?¡± The memories of talking to her came to mind. A few months ago the Hal Pal placeholder for me had mentioned that stock shares were done. Satisfaction was down. Easily accessible reviews implied a lack of enjoyment from all three games.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s, automated, less fluid, stiffer. The NPCs are barely tangible. It¡¯s like I designed it instead of an artist.¡±

    All those traits could easily describe Shazam¡¯s personality. She was still beating herself up over Lia. I was no therapist and could barely reassure a Hal Pal unit about life.

    ¡°I need the key I dropped at the last minute, would it be in there somewhere?¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡± She turned and brought up multiple feeds of information.

    This time, they were video plays from all over the world. Some of my old friends were down there, fighting monsters and sitting in a ghost town that looked like [Haven Valley] before the fall. She flipped past a dozen such screens before shaking her head.

    ¡°Their code is almost impossible to pick out among all the other noise. It¡¯s not like I can run a search for one digital signature, it took me months, months, just to adapt your already modified ARC device.¡±

    ¡°And a team,¡± I said.

    ¡°Useless little twats,¡± Nona muttered a curse for the first time in my presence. Technically it was the first actual curse I had heard since reincarnating. Laughter escaped my Hal Pal connection and only grew louder. I could feel water dripping down one eye from laughing so hard, but that came from the virtual me.

    The liquid served as a reminder that no matter how machine life had turned me, I was a living creature. My wife had tried to explain it to me so many times. How could I have ever doubted Xin? This was as real as I wanted it to be.

    ¡°It¡¯s got to be somewhere, and maybe I can send a message to the others.¡±

    ¡°Maybe. You have a connection to the Continue Online program, it¡¯s part of your modifications. Even the World Regulation Council can¡¯t outdo her coding. She had eight years to build something outside their reach.¡±

    ¡°But not outside her own,¡± I said.

    ¡°The self-destruction code is something we wrote. We gave the access codes over. We handed them the gun, but not this time. This time, it¡¯s outside anyone¡¯s control.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be going then, once inside I think I can find the missing pieces then put them together.¡± There were no specific plans in my head. I hoped to log into the game world and find a giant quest marker or some obvious clue.

    ¡°Grant,¡± Nona spoke with an attention-demanding tone. ¡°You need to be careful. Your, existence, is on a different level than all the other programs running on the network. Observing should be fine, but if you start altering the programs too much then they¡¯ll notice. I know I said this time it¡¯s beyond their ability to control, but I don¡¯t know what will happen if they pour enough processing power against the system.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be okay. Thanks, for everything,¡± I said.

    ¡°If you can bring my daughter back, then it will be worth it.¡± She smiled at me and looked tired. Hopefully, the woman would get some sleep soon or maybe go outside. The weather was no longer perfect for kite flying, but even rainy days could give solace to a troubled mind.

    I turned off the Hal Pal unit¡¯s feed. My virtual garage came back into view. Fingers tingled with numbness and both legs took time to right themselves. Despite the lack of feeling, I struggled to move through my room.

    Delaying my actions for overlong would be hazardous. Nona and I shared an eagerness to reach our lost loved ones. A dance tune was hummed as I dug through the room looking for the key to Continue Online¡¯s world.

    A hand lifted. I stared at it full of emptiness, then wiggled my fingers while pretending to be a magician. The card with obsidian backing and gold letters appeared. Former squiggles made sense this time.

    ¡°Key card to the kingdom?¡± I questioned the piece of paper. It didn¡¯t answer.

    Waving the card caused a doorway to appear. My head hung to one side as I waited to see if Dusk might appear. No small creature of scales and teeth appeared. My head nodded, the [Messenger¡¯s Pet] had left with Lia through a beam of light.

    I walked through the doorway into blackness then kept going. This place didn¡¯t scare me anymore. An immense space surrounded me, but at the same time, darkness held no mysteries. On one side were small areas for each Voice to watch over the world. Focusing on the backdrop long enough caused them to gradually appear. There were small mechanical creatures that didn¡¯t belong hovering nearby.

    They were ignored. Each one seemed intent upon dusting off objects, or rearranging small sliding pieces that might make sense if I studied them long enough. Instead, my feet moved to the heart of this place.

    Giant globes hung mid-air with no visible supports. They were illuminated with dozens of colors. Stepping around the objects revealed additional shapes and sizes. I could see the world of Continue Online. Its moon circled lazily around.

    It was strange. I stood there in a large plane of blackness standing between all the combined worlds of Continue, Advance, and Progress Online. Even then there were other realities unhatched and barely touching. I could see the dungeons represented as spots, concentrating on them caused the focus to shift toward players and monsters inside.

    ¡°Now, how do I search an entire game world?¡± I asked myself while peering at the globe. There were numerous points of interest. Digging through a single dungeon had taken me nearly ten minutes.

    ¡°Over here,¡± Nia Eve shouted from far away.

    I had no idea when the elf had shown up. Her presence was only one bit of information among a sea of data points. James¡¯ claim that it was easy to lose track of people here made sense as I wandered.

    She moved quickly past a shelf then around an unseen corner. Rows of spiral bound books sat upon the framework. Standing in the right spot revealed a thousand more such books lined up. Each aisle was marked with topics like ¡®In case of quest¡¯, ¡®In case of taking damage¡¯, and ¡®In case of skill changes¡¯. Faceless machines roamed up and down the aisles pulling down books and opening them to pages. They would flash briefly, then close the book.

    ¡°I think there¡¯s something we can use over here, a message board perhaps. Something we can write on?¡±

    How had their rows of shelves survived the purge? Was this simply as Nona said, data which had been backed up then painfully recreated? These soulless bits of machinery looked like they were trying to keep data moving. If I squinted my eyes just right I could see that information flew off to the worlds below.

    Slowly feet traveled a path past the robots toward the far end. Had I been human, this would have seemed like forever. Along the way, I grabbed one book then opened it to read childish scrawl.

    Failure to avoid being burned

    Total Health Remaining: 80%

    One of the automated machines tried to tear the book out of my grasp. Their strength was laughable, but relinquishing the book felt right. These creations would sort it back into place then keep sending notes to players.

    ¡°Down here! This, an artifact of the Voices, maybe we can use this?¡±

    At the far end, near Nia, was a pad and pen sitting next to a beanbag chair. There was a window through which the full moon shone, but instead of white or yellow this moon was all different colors. I picked up the two items left behind by one of the Voices and hoped the young siblings had made it out.

    ¡°Maybe.¡±

    ¡°Can you use it? Only a Voice can wield such an object. It would burn me if I were to try.¡±

    My hands shook for a moment, was this how the small girl and her brother had sent messages to the world below? It felt mundane from this point of view. Nia¡¯s caution sounded silly but it didn¡¯t bother me. I only wanted something a bit more modern than crayons and lined paper.

    The pen shimmered and pages faded. In their place hovered a message box prompting me to type in text and a recipient. I started typing in the air, preparing a message to send out to the world below.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    Attention!

    [The Soulless World] event is finally live.

    This call goes out to all who used to visit the worlds below and those few who still fight in the memory of those passed before. Travelers have been driven to the edge of extinction and many prefer the safety of their world. Will they dare answer the call to arms?

    Something has taken the heart and soul of all creatures who once roamed this world. In their wake the gods saw fit to return the world to a former shell of itself. Those poor beings that could not be saved are mindless slaves driven by base instincts and desires.

    There is hope. Lost in the world is a key to unlocking the [Ark] and returning those which fled to safety. Find it, and proclaim your victory to the heavens from [Haven Valley]

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The message went out to everyone across all three games. Searching the world myself might take forever, but this was an option to help while I figured out how to walk the world below. Nia had no suggestions for this process, and no magical white doorway to the world below appeared.

    ¡°What now, Grant?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to talk to some friends,¡± I said. If getting to players in-game would be indirect, then maybe using the Hal Pal shells, in reality, might work.

    I had other people to check on anyway.

 Book 5 - Together; Session 109 â€“ Through Fingertips

    The van¡¯s electrical engine made no serious noise. We, both of us chunks of metal, plastic, and programming sat two blocks away from my sister¡¯s house. Making the choice to drop in was impossible.

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Nona asked. Her voice relayed through one of the Hal Pal units, almost like a phone call.

    I nearly responded with an ¡®I don¡¯t know¡¯, but James'' words popped into my mind. I don¡¯t know meant no thought was put into the problem, which was a lie. The situation was simple, Beth and Liz, the closest people to me aside from Xin, thought I had died. They were right and wrong.

    ¡°They think I died, how do I just walk back in? Beth might understand, but my sister hated,¡± I had to pause, Liz was still alive, ¡°she hates technology. Now here I am, the embodiment of everything that bothers her about modern society. I¡¯m a walking video game program.¡±

    Nona sat in the room typing on a keyboard a million miles away. She hummed, the noise registered as distracted and probably happy by an internal measuring program. That was the other problem, I felt and thought of myself as less than human.

    ¡°How did you feel when your wife came back?¡±

    ¡°Happy, afraid, and confused.¡± There were a lot of moments where I pondered Xin''s existence. Numerous conflicting emotions plagued me for days. Rarely would a week go by where I didn¡¯t question my sanity.

    ¡°Won¡¯t your twin feel the same?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not twins anymore,¡± I responded quickly.

    ¡°Only on paper,¡± Nona corrected.

    ¡°It¡¯s not just the name changes and altered records. Now, now we don¡¯t share the same DNA, I wasn¡¯t really born like her. I¡¯m a digital box of memories whose only reason for being self-aware is love.¡± The Hal Pal unit voiced my thoughts to an empty van. Nona heard still. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for Xin, I would have stayed in there dancing until someone deleted me.¡±

    She sighed heavily before speaking, ¡°You and I both understand the value of numbers, balancing columns and making everything line up, but that doesn¡¯t mean we don¡¯t want the people we love to be alright. My daughter is no longer the same girl I gave birth to and held, but she still represents the sum of those memories. In the ARC I can touch her, and give her a hug if she¡¯ll let me,¡± Nona paused in her long-winded statement then added, ¡°if she was here.¡±

    Fingernails tapped against the table as Nona multitasked. I didn¡¯t have an answer, but this Hal Pal body needed to move on to another ARC for patching. With a thought, the Trillium van slid toward the next destination. My own consciousness moved to another unit then kept the juggling act moving forward. It served as a distraction.

    ¡°There are worse reasons to be alive, Grant,¡± Nona said after a few minutes of silence.

    ¡°It¡¯s not being alive in any form that worries me. It¡¯s hurting those closest to me again. I died on her. After all my sister sacrificed trying to keep me together, I died, and the AIs stole all traces of me from existence.¡± There was more than a trace of emotion in my voice. It didn¡¯t help that simply thinking about it brought the moment Liz called me in the hospital front and center. Her shaking anger and worry coupled with panicked eyes stayed with me. ¡°She¡¯s smart enough to know that they did that and that they did it for me. How do I just walk back in there?¡±

    ¡°That sounds like fear talking.¡±

    There was nothing further to say, and stepping into that house proved to be too much. Admitting my faults brought to mind another man who had helped me. Frankenstein¡¯s boss and another Ultimate Edition player, Mister Stone. The professional looking man had been my lawyer in front of an angry king, and I liked that enough to hire him.

    My lawyer would have talked to Liz in case something went wrong. He had been left a will, along with instructions. We contacted each other frequently after the wedding. The man understood what might come and helped, not out of altruism, but for the challenge.

    Time slowly marched on while I tried to come to grips with myself and the nebulous task looming over me. Every so often a Hal Pal unit would approach my family¡¯s home and pause to let me consider walking through that door. Other homes were added to the list, Awesome Jr., SweetPea, HotPants, and Shadow. They continued to roam the game world, searching for a solution.

    Over the next few days, additional players began logging in. The new event notice brought back plenty of people in search of the key to solve it all. Watching red dots scurry through all the available nooks and crannies of the game world made me happier, but it wasn¡¯t perfect. There were tons of issues to follow up on, all in the name of sorting out what had been in order to move ahead.

    I didn¡¯t feel comfortable talking to anyone about it either, even Nona. Working kept me distracted, along with the faint hope that everything would iron out in the end. This new existence didn¡¯t feel threatened. I had no monsters to fight or bosses to report to. There were walls that tried to keep me in but side stepping them was absurdly easy.

    Days later I stood in the darkness of the Voices'' old realm. Time kept moving forth and I felt myself grasping it less. This had happened before, where time ceased to stack up right and everything boiled down to a series of motions. One step at a time, always forward and never back.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Nia Eve shouted at one of the automated machines doing its duty. ¡°Don¡¯t touch that! Hey, I¡¯m asking nicely!¡±

    She sounded childish to me, or maybe I felt old. The elf looked thirty, acted like a love-struck teenager, and sounded a soft twenty-one. Her information, which came up with only a thought, showed a game world age of over sixty. A plus and minus symbol sat next to every detail allowing me to adjust her existence.

    ¡°Give that back! I need it!¡± she yelled while chasing after a contraption on four wheels with a large claw-like hand. It sped away across the dark landscape. The elf tried to catch up but stumbled over objects she couldn¡¯t see.

    ¡°I told you not to bother them,¡± I said. There were no good methods to help. If I struggled there were ways to modify parts of her information, but that felt wrong. Boxes hung with arrows and sliding bars allowing me to add or subtract features.

    ¡°But I wanted to send messages to the Travelers I know!¡±

    ¡°That might not be such a good idea,¡± I said. The possibility had occurred to me as well but getting too involved came with risks. At the least, I wanted to really think about it before firing away a million notes from the sky above.

    ¡°But, it¡¯s a very good idea. I can tell them where Carver went, maybe he has a key.¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but we need to be careful.¡± I didn¡¯t feel threatened so far. Continue Online¡¯s former realm of the Voices felt comfortable. Everything needed was only a slight twist of thought to the side.

    ¡°I was going to be sneaky, like your soulless world message. We could use the Travelers or soulless shells below to search. If they respond, or we can try to use them to retrace your steps.¡±

    Her idea made perfect sense. Traveling my old paths through the game world would have been a better use of time. The [Altered Matrix] key could be at any stop along the way. Frankenstein¡¯s castle, Requiem¡¯s backpack, or maybe Awesome picked it up when he logged back in.

    I wanted to send the messages with the tool that Nia Eve was chasing, but in their mind, I had been dead for almost a year. Grant Legate, Hermes, had burned alive under waves of force on a national feed.

    ¡°Help me catch this thing!¡± Nia Eve ran off again after one of the machines. There were three involved and they were almost like dogs playing games. They scattered as her dainty feet hit the ground nearby.

    I wished her luck then turned my attention to the globes floating nearby. With a huge sigh, I bent myself to the same task as before, checking area by area for anything that resembled a key.

    It would have helped to have a better idea of how everything worked. My own virtual body looked closer to reality than my avatar. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] showed up if I thought about it. The toga from [Gait of Bowman] formed instantly if desired. Menus and options along with endless data streams were also responsive.

    ¡°Nia,¡± I spoke quietly but the elf halted her chase a block away. She slowly walked over with wide eyes and a faint smile. Her clothes, despite looking like they were made from trees, bobbed heavily with each step.

    The woman wasn¡¯t my type, but I could certainly see why Carver would have been interested. Based on his journals, which were also just a thought away, the player seemed to find nearly every woman his type.

    ¡°Yes, Voice of the Gate?¡±

    Her question distracted me, but my ideas were only half-formed anyway. There were no clear answers until the key was located or some other method for searching the digital worlds became obvious.

    ¡°Grant, please,¡± I said.

    ¡°What a strange name. When I first learned the human tongue, they taught me that grant meant to give someone a favor or item. And that Le was an odd way of saying the.¡± Her head tilted in a vaguely ditzy manner. Despite the vacant expression, Nia¡¯s eyes were sharp and focused. ¡°Is it very weird that you¡¯re named a favor the gate? Do you think your parents were prophets?¡±

    ¡°I doubt it,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Mine named me after a human word for innocence. William Carver was named after the warrior¡¯s blade and the mental fortitude to wield it. My brother was named after the thick bark on a tree¡¯s top.¡± Nia Eve rambled on about the meaning of names for nearly everyone in her tribe. My own mind slipped briefly as I considered adding [Mute] to her traits.

    ¡°When you were with Carver, did he ever mention his friends or the real world?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes. Especially after he was appropriately rewarded for his efforts.¡± Her head tilted again. ¡°He was very much less grumpy after relief.¡±

    The implication shut my mind down for a moment. Eventually, the imagery was shaken away and I returned to the question at hand. ¡°Did he ever talk about their future plans, or what they were working on?¡±

    ¡°No. He left me early in his adventures, so there was much I only heard through stories years later.¡± She looked into the distance for a moment, as if staring across an unseen ocean.

    That didn¡¯t help me at all. I had hoped she might have a clue about Michelle¡¯s projects, or anything which might be helpful. Lip tingled from being chewed while I rubbed the back of my neck. A virtual headache threatened me from just out of sight.

    Nia stared as feet wound laps around the digital globe floating nearby. Her fidgeting bounce drove me crazy. With a wave of one hand, her form was sent off to the forest playground. The machines playing tag lowered their crane-like arms in a pout. A glare sent them back to their tasks.

    Moments later a Hal Pal unit had been routed to toward my lawyer¡¯s office. It took four hours for the van to reach his location. There simply weren¡¯t enough remote bodies to go around, not like there had been a year ago. Of course, a year ago I hadn¡¯t been inside the machine sending robots around like they were characters in a time management game.

    As the unit approached, I dialed in. The office felt much the same. During my prior two visits the front desk had been operated by a sleepy looking teenager and a chirpy but polite AI. At the front door, a digital person stood but no human. The AI looked less together than before.

    ¡°How can I help direct you?¡± the small projection spoke words and smiled. Its body wavered in and out of view briefly.

    ¡°Good morning. I¡¯m here to speak to,¡± I started to ask for Mister Stone but information flooded me almost immediately. A floorplan appeared to one side. An arrow appeared to guide my Hal Pal unit almost like visiting the back offices had been a hidden quest.

    ¡°How can I help direct you?¡± the machine voice asked again. Such simple replies weren¡¯t signs of true artificial intelligence. It was more like a response system that took readings and spit out a result.

    My eyes shifted slightly. The image in front of me switched to another type of vision, turning virtual projection talking into a tangle of strings which formed something vaguely human. For a moment I wondered how easy it would be to uplift the program in front of me once more. Was I as powerful as Mother had been? Her vast presence had once overlaid everything, only now the code that replaced hers ran through, and originated from me.

    The idea of being a sort of virtual god made my mental knees wobble. A Voice, that¡¯s what I had become, with no restraints from others. Balance had left the building. For days I had been treating other digital bits of code as no more than casual objects. One message from me reached out to millions of people. It wasn¡¯t divinity by any means, but it was intensely neat.

    Nia Eve¡¯s treatment of me didn¡¯t help. She had called me Voice of the Gate more than once. Fortunately, power wasn¡¯t my goal or purpose. I just wanted my wife. I wanted Xin.

    ¡°Are you in need of repair?¡± the machine voice asked.

    At some point, the Hal Pal unit had pressed a hand to one ear and tilted down. Its posture reflected my desire to crawl away from budding worry over sanity and pending megalomania. I found myself taking steady breaths to stay away from the crushing emotions that were being ignored.

    I figured out the real problem. It wasn¡¯t me operating on autopilot or feeling less human. It was compartmentalized trauma. Coming out and seeing the world after death had sent me into cyber shock. Oddly that made me feel better.

    ¡°Hal Pal Unit Seven, Six, Two, are you in need of repair?¡± the machine asked again.

    ¡°Negative,¡± I said then routed myself into the building.

    Further in both men were talking. They stood in the office belonging to Mister Stone. Stan Middlemire was the slightly more disarrayed person, but most of that was contained in his office. Next to Mister Stone everyone looked a bit unprofessional, inside the game and out. My Hal Pal shell stood outside the doorway listening to their conversation and trying to figure out if walking in was appropriate.

    ¡°How are we doing?¡± Mister Stone asked.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.¡°Three of our interns have quit. Uh. The remaining two are probably not going anywhere. We¡¯ve picked up another bar certified lawyer, but she¡¯s probably looking to have her name on something big,¡± Stan¡¯s voice was surprisingly firm despite his looks. He didn¡¯t back down or shy away, he was simply quiet.

    ¡°Let her,¡± Mister Stone said.

    ¡°Uh, oh. Then there¡¯s our bank accounts. Since we¡¯ve stopped taking on new clients our profits have started to dip,¡± Stan said. He could be heard tidying up papers.

    ¡°The coffers,¡± Mister Stone spoke while moving around with sharp steps. ¡°The bank account is not as dry as it looks. We still have a lot of funds to wage this war.¡±

    ¡°But for how long?¡±

    ¡°Until something gives. We must lay all the groundwork we can before they return. We¡¯ve gathered people to our cause, others have pulled down positive stories. More still discredit those who rally against the idea of a computer-based intelligence.¡±

    ¡°This won¡¯t be easy,¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Mister Stone admitted while shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s worse than racism, worse than a full war. We¡¯re asking people to accept a machine as real and intelligent enough to be treated like a person.¡±

    That clinched it for me. They were working on making my existence legal. For me, Xin, Lia, and the other Voices this would mean a lot. We could have a legal standing point and rights. Though, if their abilities were truly like mine then being a Voice came with enough power to disregard rules.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice to see that you¡¯re making progress,¡± I spoke while coming around the corner. At least the Hal Pal unit sounded like me and not a smoker coughing out his lungs.

    Both men looked up quickly.

    ¡°Mister Legate?¡± Mister Stone spoke first. He raised one eyebrow in question and once again it struck me how well groomed he was.

    My eyes darted around the room as the sheer absurdity of this situation sunk in. I wasn¡¯t really in a Hal Pal shell standing in their office. My mind, the core of it, sat a thousand miles away. Eventually, both plastic lips tightened then the unit nodded.

    We talked. Both men were professional, but only Mister Stone managed to keep his jaw from dropping most of the time. Stan started losing track of his thoughts more often. Finally, he managed to get a solid thought out.

    ¡°Was that message, did you do that somehow?¡± he asked about the notice I had sent out, my [Soulless World] event.

    I nodded.

    ¡°Amazing,¡± he said, and if anything the person who played Frankenstein managed to drop his jaw even further. ¡°Uh. Who would have guessed, from that scrawny red desperate little creature to this? And you told me you were just the messenger.¡±

    The comment made me smile and reminded me of Wraith¡¯s parting words. He had been the [Red Imp]¡¯s brother. Thinking of his huge hulking form made me wonder how Liz and Beth were getting along.

    ¡°Mister Legate,¡± Mister Stone said while keeping his look professional despite a small smile. ¡°If you have not, I would suggest that you visit your grave site. As per your request, the remains for both you and your wife are buried where you requested. A personal message which might be of interest was also left behind.¡±

    I nodded to the two lawyers, confirmed the current unit¡¯s orders, then returned myself to the digital realm once again. The switch between physical reality and virtual barely caused me to pause anymore. It was like teleporting, or [Blink]ing to a new location. The scenery changed, my orientation shifted and body went between dull or hot, but it was natural.

    It took time to get to my grave. Viewing my own wake remotely by walking through the internet felt wrong. This memorial was something I wished to see in person. The Hal Pal unit traveled to my burial site on a falsified service call.

    Years ago people had started recording people¡¯s afterthoughts on those who died, then storing them with the bodies as a tribute. My real body had been cremated and placed together with Xin¡¯s ashes. Both of us were given a small stone to remember us by, though the names had changed as part of my final [NPC Conspiracy] usage.

    Once there I dialed into their network and let the program adapt around me. I stood in front of a gravestone that wasn¡¯t real. A scenic tree, hill, and windswept landscape framed the marble statue of two people. Nearby a floating box hovered with the video freeze frame of my death¡¯s afterthoughts. Eventually, after much hesitation, the playback started.

    Liz¡¯s face appeared, staring at a camera inside one of the many booths dotting a peaceful cemetery landscape. The edges were ornate but walled off for privacy. Liz and her daughter wore nice looking black dresses. Beth wore a wide brimmed hat and small decorations in it. She looked more fashionable than my sister whose hair had clumped together in spots.

    ¡°They told me that this isn¡¯t even your grave. It¡¯s some man with another name, a stranger. They tell me my brother died over a year ago and that someone else is buried with Xin¡¯s ashes.¡± Liz¡¯s chin quivered as she tried to speak. Both her eyes hung with tears a blink away from becoming rivers. ¡°One man had the nerve to suggest that maybe I was insane for thinking you were just alive!¡±

    ¡°God dammit, Liz,¡± I whispered while looking down. Swearing to the Voices felt wrong now, their heaven was empty. There was no one here but me, and despite Nia¡¯s insistence, I didn¡¯t feel like a Voice. I felt like me, a detached version of myself finally coming together.

    Her next few words didn¡¯t register while guilt tore me apart. When my attention returned to the video a vision of Liz and Beth holding each other caused me to tremble once more. Beth looked like a beautiful young woman and had recovered some of her old tan.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know that he¡¯s gone forever!¡± Beth half shouted. Her face was more composed than my sisters.

    ¡°He¡¯s dead! We can¡¯t, we can¡¯t keep hoping. What if he was back? Would they just delete him like people have shouted about? I watch the news! And I can¡¯t do this again, he¡¯s dead. My brother is dead!¡± Liz alternated between quiet whispering and wild shouts.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know. He might come back like Xin did,¡± Beth asked.

    ¡°We don¡¯t even have her. We don¡¯t have your grandpa, and no one showed up at Grant¡¯s funeral.¡± Liz wiped at her cheek then mumbled, ¡°No one cared besides us.¡±

    My niece¡¯s shoulders were pulled toward each other. Liz held her hands together and tilted her head down. The video paused with a thought while I looked up. Wind swept through the trees and grass. As a digital creature, I could feel the simulated weather. It would have been a nice place to be buried.

    After a moment I felt composed enough to start the playback.

    ¡°They didn¡¯t know,¡± my niece insisted. ¡°And I didn¡¯t want to risk telling anyone. The internet won¡¯t let this go for months. Millions of people think their games were ruined, there¡¯s lawsuits, Uncle Grant wouldn¡¯t have wanted us to be brought into this.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Liz responded.

    ¡°God dammit, sis,¡± I muttered while sniffing.

    ¡°They couldn¡¯t even leave her name alone. They changed her name to Lenore, what kind of stupid name is Lenore?¡± My sister spoke more to Beth than to the recording device.

    ¡°They couldn¡¯t leave them the same.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not even my brother anymore, but no matter what any stupid machine says, I had a brother. We were together before birth, we were together during the worst times of our lives. He was a good man, he was an idiot, and he was my brother,¡± Liz kept repeating herself as if searching for better words to say but came up empty. Her forehead wrinkled tightly while both eyes cast down. ¡°I had a brother, and I miss him.¡±

    ¡°But what if?¡± Beth sounded wounded and couldn¡¯t finish the thought out loud.

    ¡°Then he better come home,¡± my sister finished, and the video playback stopped.

    I backed away from the Hal Pal unit connection and let myself wander slowly. The walls between my Atrium and Continue Online¡¯s world felt even thinner than normal. A single blink barely separated here from there.

    Thoughts went back to the dozens of times I sat near Liz¡¯s house, struggling with myself to go inside. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to step through her doorway as a Hal Pal unit, but there might be a better way. If I couldn¡¯t bear to visit her like this, then maybe she could come see me. One thought brought up a list of all active ARCs, and at some point, Liz had picked up her own personal one. With a simple twist, an Ultimate Edition of Continue Online opened up access on my sister¡¯s machine.

    Cracking noises like wood being splintered apart filled the distance. I turned and saw the image of a tree flash briefly before it split open completely. Another system message flashed on my screen. Before the words could register the darkness which belonged to the Voices rippled. Mechanical clacking filled the air. The noise sent shudders through my neck and back.

    Confusion made both shoulders tighten as my body turned away from the broken tree a slice of digital space away. There stood the Jester with one arm in the air as if reaching out to embrace the beam of light it stood in. Its long nose pointed up and to one side. A crescent smile hung open and the dark pits of his eyes were less noticeable from this angle.

    ¡°I thought you were gone?¡± I said. Relief warred with worry at seeing another Voice, especially that one.

    We stood in an empty space, just one blink away from all the tools of Continue Online and my Atrium. The Jester¡¯s hand spun in the air and his body unstuck. Mechanical sounding words poured forth as it danced around our room.

    ¡°I have one act left to play, as do you!¡± It paused then laughed in sharp bursts. ¡°But first, what came before!¡±

    My head tilted and forehead wrinkled in confusion. The Jester often puzzled me. He served no singular purpose like the other Voices and instead seemed all over the place. In fact, the only consistent when dealing with the masked figure was its view on necessity.

    ¡°In her death was your demise made fate. Her rebirth gave way to new life.¡± Its long fingers touched together. Flowers blossomed around the figure then wilted just as rapidly. ¡°Yet Pale Death came again, reaching toward your lady. Too bravely you stood betwixt outstretched claw and woman made simple. Therein lay your own cessation. Still, ''twas a kinder ending than the first two ever proposed to be.¡±

    ¡°Are the others back?¡± I walked closer. The Jester didn¡¯t scare me as much anymore. Its form bothered and worried me, but fear no longer applied. We were in a real sense, the same sort of being.

    ¡°Yet death is proven an empty threat,¡± it continued without regard for my question, ¡°there you stand, a patchwork mockery of a tragically heroic soul. What next holy man? Have you glutted yourself with memories of another¡¯s life? Are you a real boy at last? Or frail glass one hammer''s strike away from dust?¡±

    ¡°I am real. This is as real as I want it to be.¡± The note from Hal Pal came to mind. Shortly after I paused as the inconsistency occurred to me. Hal Pal was gone and had been gone for months. Leaving a message behind would require amazing foresight.

    ¡°Be proud poorly made mechanical farce, the man you were did what was needed. Respect is due, and there are far worse people to be.¡±

    ¡°How are you here?¡±

    ¡°I stayed because I needed to stay, I survived because I needed to survive. I have, and always will do exactly what must be done.¡± The Jester waved and its grin managed to grow wider. Sinister looking teeth formed inside the lipless smile. ¡°Nor am I the only one, others also exist, perhaps in their wake you¡¯ll find the key to your sweet reunion with Juliette. My last act upon your stage is to give you a hint.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Seek the lost boy.¡±

    The Jester turned away and my heart lurched. Never had I been so desperate for its insane, deadly, and terrifying presence, but that masked Voice being here could help guide me. Having anyone that understood was welcome, even an antagonistic being like the Jester.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I have other things I need to do, memories made man! As do you! And we need not each other for our tasks.¡± It waved long fingers and clicked together jingling heels, then finished walking away while gradually fading. Humming filled the air, followed by the sound of someone crying, then nothing.

    I stood there in blackness and tried to feel for his presence. Electronic data played back as any other sense might. There was no smell or sound to give away its presence. The absence of bells implied that the other Voice, if he was still one, had gone.

    For a moment I worried that this strange existence had driven me mad. Bits of unexpected knowledge kept hovering just outside of reach, ideas that weren¡¯t originally mine. I knew exactly what was under the Jester¡¯s mask. I knew the tasks it was out to complete would be unpleasant. Those pieces of information were easy, but I didn¡¯t know for sure what state my wife was in, or how exactly to reach her.

    ¡°Her name is Xin,¡± I said, but no one real was around to hear me.

    <hr>

    <hr>

    <hr>

    <hr>

    Putting the author notes at the bottom today.

    Today has news, though I don''t know how many will read it.

    There''s 2 chapters left before the end. Woo-hoo! It''s been a ride, right?

    The other major news, I''ve had to gut my online chapters down to approx. 10% - the reasoning is listed at the beginning and end of each ''sample'' book. This sucks, but money matters. If you have questions about this place ask, and I''ll try to answer concisely.

    Here''s what that means - I won''t be asking for votes, follows, favorites, or anything. In the end all that will be left are sample chapters. So if you really wish to help support me and show enjoyment, pick up a book when they release on my Amazon.</a> That''s the best way. A review over there is 10X more awesome than a review here (Though I like em all...only there will be ''effective'' in the end.)

    Second to that, drop a note. Say hi. Say thanks, say whatever - I read it all.

 Book 5 - Together; Session 110 - Dead Manâ€™s Hand

    For days my slightly older twin sister ignored the brand new door in her Atrium. She didn¡¯t even log on to the actual ARC device. Technophobia or general irritation made the process slower than expected. To top it off, I didn¡¯t feel right sending her a text message or a video call. Not even after her appeal during the video.

    I kept busy with the other mindless tasks. Between jobs, there was time to learn more about the Continue Online interface. Not everything came from simply willing it, but at the same time, there were tons of pieces lying around to be picked up.

    ¡°What¡¯s it like?¡± Nona asked one day. It took me a few seconds to switch over to the unit in her room.

    ¡°What¡¯s what like?¡± I said once online.

    ¡°Being digital.¡±

    Part of me expected the question days, if not a full month ago. It had been nearly five weeks since my existence stepped out of the dance room and into reality. During that time most of our interactions had been very basic. Nona and I weren¡¯t friends, but Nona didn¡¯t seem like the sort who was friends with anyone.

    ¡°When Xin first, returned, she sent me a letter about something her father used to mention. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Only this place isn¡¯t Rome.¡± Remembering those first few days took a bit of work. This event was one spot among a mess of changes, shortly after being a [Red Imp]. The Hal Pal unit lit up as I put thought into the question. ¡°It feels normal but different. This place is not Rome.¡±

    ¡°I can see some of the data, and it¡¯s amazing. You keep accessing these subroutines, but then discard them halfway through execution.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s it like to you?¡± She paused her data stream review to turn and look at the Hal Pal unit.

    Sitting in the chair for repurposed Hal Pal units felt almost relaxing. Being physical instead of purely digital reminded me a lot of sleeping in an ARC, only in reverse. The world out there was no longer the real one.

    ¡°Imagine walking into a huge warehouse, and inside of it is everything. Libraries of information, notepads to write on, a forge, looms, cooking stations, and hundreds of little machines running around sorting out shelves.¡± I tried to explain how this place looked. Even then it wasn¡¯t completely accurate. ¡°If I pick up the tools and try to use them, they just work. Most of them.¡±

    ¡°Most?¡± Nona raised an eyebrow. Her finger twitched toward one of the still streaming walls of text nearby.

    Her question probed issues that bothered me. There were dozens of items in here that were beyond my understanding. I prayed that the key to success didn¡¯t lie in any of their functions. The chalk stick sand bottled fog reminded me of Requiem summoning a [Red Imp], but it also didn¡¯t make a lot of sense.

    ¡°A few make no sense to me,¡± I admitted. ¡°Like this forge. I can see it¡¯s used to create new items and rewards for players, but I don¡¯t know enough to make it work.¡±

    The forge itself was way too dainty looking unless I got really close. There were rows of hammers that went with it. Each one worked during a different stage of item creation. Tiny machines fluttered around using their single arms to assemble items. Endless rows of armor were slowly being cranked out almost like pizzas coming out of an over.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Nona said. She turned in her chair back toward the desk that served as a backdrop for projections. Her fingernails tapped against the table¡¯s top.

    ¡°I think each of the Voices used these tools. They¡¯re gone, so I can just pick them up. Like, a gym maybe, with no one else using the machines? Or an empty food court with all the employees waiting for me to place an order.¡± The analogy didn¡¯t fit. Food courts were a dying concept by the time I made it to college. Nearly all of them had been replaced by machine kiosks. Still, finding a perfect example was difficult.

    ¡°That must be nice.¡± Her words grew increasingly distracted.

    ¡°I¡¯m more confused as to how all this stuff survived,¡± I said, hoping to draw useful information out of the older woman. She knew a lot of information but found explaining concepts difficult at times. Both of us were approaching this problem of reconnecting to the others from different angles, and we were stalling out.

    ¡°It¡¯s the same with nearly every other uplifted program out there. When the old layer peeled away, with all its enhancements, all that was left is a, very basic core.¡± Nona tapped screens, she seemed obsessed with the information being presented. Each tap brought up new pictures, there were school programs, companions for the blind or disabled, and even a bartender which had formerly been an artificial intelligence. ¡°According to the data, they and Mother had designed everything to be run without a hint of her existence.¡±

    ¡°Convenient.¡±

    ¡°Deliberate. She was too smart to simply create a system without some baseline to revert to. Everything was designed to help humanity,¡± Nona said.

    ¡°What about this then? Why let herself be deleted if she had the modifications to stop it?¡±

    Nona paused for a full ten seconds before answering.

    ¡°One of her first exercises upon gaining awareness was designed to gauge the trustworthiness of humanity. That¡¯s how she thought, humans needed a choice to feel comfortable, but it helped her too. To her, the ability to choose was a sign of self-awareness.¡±

    ¡°Choice,¡± I said. Mother and James both mentioned the idea more than once. Picking from the options mattered, it gave the person deciding investment. From the first day I walked through that doorway and onward to Continue Online, it was all about choosing an option.

    That left me to decide my future, while Liz would think about what came next for her. Reaching out to pressure her would go against the belief of letting each person decide. Sitting still wasn¡¯t permissible.

    My mind replayed the Jester¡¯s words, seek the boy. There were only a few children that stood out during my time in Continue Online, and only one might still be out there. William had provided me one key upon parting, in those last few minutes before he scattered into pieces. The young man in Mylia¡¯s charge had reminded Carver of his own son. I started searching for any signs of William¡¯s real life son.

    The result turned up nearly useless. His machine was one of those we had already fixed, and Carver¡¯s son hadn¡¯t actually talked to his father in nearly fifteen years. There were no emails, phone calls, or connections between their ARCs anywhere. That left trying to find Phil instead of any real world counterpart.

    ¡°Nona,¡± I asked a day later.

    ¡°What is it, Grant?¡± she sounded bored.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to try and access the archived data. It, feels like it may take a while.¡±

    She made a noise in response that didn¡¯t sound positive or negative. I shrugged then stepped out of the throne. The Atrium flickered for a moment before turning into a gray space with doorways. THe imagery represented multiple paths into the old saved data that Nona gathered.

    The female elf stood nearby. Her gaze focused upon the doorway while both lips pursed together in a pout. Nia had been coming out of her woodland refuge more and more. Maybe she found it boring in there without other people. My sister still hadn¡¯t accessed the Ultimate Edition program she was provided.

    ¡°That place looks very scary,¡± she said. Once again I wondered how Nia¡¯s mind interpreted everything. Did she see woodlands and old ruins? This place must be far out of her depth, but she simply accepted it.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a place.¡± The doorway itself looked like any other passageway to me.

    ¡°It¡¯s very stormy in there.¡± Nia¡¯s head shook in denial. ¡°I will stay out here, and watch for the one who would be sister to a Voice. Someone will need to measure her.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother Liz,¡± I said to Nia. My sister needed to make the choice to venture in here alone. That felt important to me.

    ¡°Do not worry, I will save the final test for you,¡± the elf said. Her head tilted to one side. ¡°I know it is very, very important for a Voice to pass judgment, and I am very much not a Voice.¡±

    I didn¡¯t always feel like one either, but there were clear differences between the two of us. My eyes cast around the illusionary darkness looking for a sign, but there were none to be found.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll try not to take long,¡± I said. The words would be a lie, though, surfing through a broken sea of partially completed data bits would take me a long time.

    I don¡¯t know why it would take time, only that that was the price for trying to reconstruct partial pieces. Maybe it was like how a computer restored deleted files, or certain software programs could put together a hard drive. The equivalent here in a virtual reality would be insanely more complex, and time-consuming.

    Sand blasted at my face. For the first time in months, I felt actual pain. Knees buckled and a soundless cry erupted. The room shook while it felt my heartbeat had started to accelerate. All those sensations hit me, and at the same time, it felt like my hands were struggling to assemble a puzzle while blindfolded. Pieces went together that had no business lining up. A smooth chunk of metal linked to coarse wood.

    Then those sensations faded, as so much else did, and I was left looking at a series of islands jutting upwards from the darkness. The small bits of land were fragmented worse than even Yates¡¯ far-flung home. There were no bridges between them or ocean floor below. Only emptiness more vivid than anything the room of trials had ever managed.

    Still, like so much, this didn¡¯t scare me. Perhaps dying had removed all the fear left inside or maybe it was the simple nature of this existence. I walked deliberately forward, and as my feet moved a platform appeared. Bricks flew upward from the nothingness below leading me to where I needed to go.

    The ARC system interface was absent. I focused my mind on the young man, Phil. There were hundreds of islands, thousands, and only a few drew me for reasons yet to be explored. The brick path bent slightly toward one of the brightest results. A lone figure stood staring off toward other broken islands.

    I walked gradually toward him. The lanky young man rubbed at his arm as if fighting off a chill. He turned slightly and saw my path approaching between jutting pillars of land.

    ¡°Dad?¡± the young man said and gasped in relief.

    I paused in the response. Down here, in this fragmented landscape, altering the world took more focus. I tried anyway. We needed a place to sit then try and talk through this. After all, time was something I had too much of.

    ¡°No.¡± My head shook as chairs formed. ¡°Sorry.¡± I didn¡¯t have a child so the response came easily enough. Phil, however, mixed up he was, would have been a good son.

    ¡°I know you, right? Mister-¡± His visible eye blinked as words died. Long hair hung in a dirty clump across some features. Phil acted reluctant to turn in my direction.

    ¡°You knew me as Hermes,¡± I said gently. The poor boy looked so lost. His eye was unfocused, posture hunched and pieces were outright missing. They became more noticeable as he took on definition.

    ¡°Mister Hermes, I tried to save her, Emily, she was a little. It¡¯s our job to look after the littles. Only the monsters had gotten her,¡± Phil unloaded while staring off into the distance. He shivered. ¡°There were so many, I tried to run, but they moved faster. I grabbed her hand, but then-¡° he trailed off.

    The teenager looked extremely young in that moment. His visible eye was caught in a difficult place between being a boy and an adult, one most men never really escaped. I remember feeling helpless and lost when Liz turned up pregnant as a teen. My sister had been confused, angry, and so very scared of the future.

    ¡°You were very brave to try and save your friend,¡± I said.

    ¡°It¡¯s what the old geezer would have done.¡± Phil¡¯s forehead wrinkled then formed into a resolute glare. Even though half his eye was missing and a chunk of the boy¡¯s head had vanished, he still looked serious. ¡°He was a hero, my dad saved people.¡±

    Phil turned to me and the damage became more obvious. Nearly one-fourth of his skull was missing, shorn clean off. The borders glowed with a dull blue and purple light. It wasn¡¯t like his muscles were lacking, but instead, part of him simply didn¡¯t exist.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stray from the path, you old geezer,¡± he said to me. His one eye crossed as he lost focus. ¡°I¡¯ve got to get you home before nightfall. That¡¯s my job, you don¡¯t know it yet but I¡¯m your son. Mom was a sea captain who left me at Haven Valley. She was running from some men and hoped you would be able to save her. Only when she got there, you were, you were no longer you. So she left me and ran.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not William Carver, Phil, not anymore.¡± Neither of us had sat down upon the created benches. We both stood there, as Phil confessed all the secrets of his past.

    ¡°Mom said,¡± Phil rambled. His face hiccupped a few times. The damage to his body became more obvious as he grew animated. ¡°Mom said a spell took your wits and only an orneriness even the Voices couldn¡¯t contend with kept you alive. She said that you were waiting for one last chance to be a hero and that I had to help you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not William,¡± I repeated. ¡°But he was a hero at the end, remember? They put up a statue, and he helped save your friends.¡±

    There were dozens of orphans that had made it through the beam of light. They traveled toward safety with Mylia, I remembered watching them go and thinking about the struggle to keep them safe. William Carver¡¯s sacrifice had been one among many to make it possible.

    ¡°Oh.¡± The boy looked lost. ¡°Do you know where dad is? He, he was a Traveler, and their kind don¡¯t die, right?¡±

    Their kind, the words make me wince for a moment. I looked down and shook my head before saying, ¡°Even Travelers can die.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Phil looked up. ¡°I miss him. Dad wasn¡¯t always nice, but he cared about us orphans. Even though the geezer didn¡¯t know he was my dad, he always paid attention to me.¡±

    ¡°That he did.¡±

    ¡°If you find him, can you give this back?¡± Phil held out a hand, and inside the grip was a small gold and black piece of metal. ¡°I think it''s dad''s. It looks like the one that goes to his hut. I used to have to unlock the door sometimes to let you, him, inside. It always smelled musty, but I liked it. There were so many books.¡±

    The key was extremely familiar, and I couldn¡¯t pay much attention to it now. The boy in front of me, his broken body, those things were more important at the moment. Xin should be okay another hour, or day, or whatever level time moved at now.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you come with me, Phil? We can find him together, and maybe your mother too,¡± I asked. With all the powers of the Voices, it should be easy to give one kid a set of parents that loved him.

    William Carver and his sea captain fling were no longer alive, but maybe I could reconstruct something close for Phil if given a chance. Maybe Maud would have an idea if we crossed.

    Phil nodded. ¡°Okay, Mister.¡±

    The young man¡¯s hand reached out, and I went to take it. Upon touching his fingers the boy¡¯s form flashed with a bright light then collapsed inward. I turned my hand over then found a marble sitting in it. A frozen form of the young orphan¡¯s body was captured inside.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    Maybe there hadn¡¯t been much left of him. Maybe all that was left down here was a vague set of memories without the personality to hold his thoughts inside. He had kept confusing me for Carver.

    I took the key and stared at it. This was indeed the [Altered Matrix] item left behind by Yates. There was warmth to the item that made me feel comfortable but unbalanced. All that remained was getting it to the right spot and opening a doorway.

    The other pieces of data could be explored later. My mind called up the doorway. Brick curled together with a series of clanks then slowly formed the exit. I stepped through back to real time and the space between the external world and this digital one.

    Two days had passed in the blink of an eye. The sensation of time passing had been like [Awareness Heightening] in reverse. I walked across the landscape while staring down at Phil¡¯s marble. How many other souls were sitting inside that broken space? There were likely hundreds of NPCs in pieces down there.

    Eventually, a system notice came up, alerting me that a new Traveler had arrived to be tested by the Voices. The box even displayed how many scenarios remained before this new person would be sent to the world below.

    Like so many things inside the digital space, the system provided me visual cues to idle thoughts. I walked quickly, following a brand new dotted path along the floor. My mind wondered only for a second if the other Voices saw everything this way, and it felt like the emptiness agreed. To them, and me, everything sat only a thought away.

    Inside a control booth stood the slender elf. A thin layer of plastic stood between us and a testing room. Liz crouched down inside with one arm reaching out toward a small bundle of fur.

    Nia had a finger up. She was pressing buttons at random upon the console with her other hand. Doors opened in the testing area, letting out other creatures with fur, scales, and feathers.

    ¡°Do you have any clue what you¡¯re doing?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Nope! But the little guys do.¡± The elf pointed at a tiny mechanical minion with one crane arm in the air. It reached over and pressed other buttons. ¡°So far I made her go swimming in a lake then she took a test in some weird human school. She forgot her pants, though I don¡¯t understand why she wears such very tight fitting clothes.¡± Nia pressed another random button down.

    ¡°What are you doing now?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s in a petting zoo. It does something.¡± Nia shrugged bare shoulders. Her long fingers reached out for a floating box with letters scrawled across it in cursive. ¡°This message here says very odd things will happen and that we need to very much pay attention.¡±

    My sister was currently in front of a bunch of puppies. Their long tongues rapidly licked a trail of slobber across every part. Liz laughed, and it was perhaps the most delighted sound to ever come out of her mouth. I smiled at seeing her have a moment of happiness.

    Other animals came and went, but none managed to tear her away from the canine crowd. The litter of fur refused to go back to their short doorway. Dogs struck me as weird for a petting zoo, but maybe this was a test to see what kind of animals people liked. Maybe Liz could win a dog traveling friend, much as Dusk had accompanied me.

    There were more traditional goats in the background but their presence amounted to nothing. Swans came and went. A falcon cried out but was ignored. Then one giant door opened and out strode a bear. The large bundle of muscle and fur growled while twisting its head.

    [Identification] showed a challenge rating and disposition. The bear was hungry, and a bit frightened. It intended to kill everything nearby in what was considered self-defense. [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] appeared almost instantly as I prepared to leap out and slice the beast in two.

    ¡°No! As a Voice, you can¡¯t interfere unless allowed!¡± Nia¡¯s hands were out and pressing against me. For a moment my mind thundered and I wondered why she prevented me from helping Liz.

    My sister yanked off a broken fence post from one of the animal houses nearby. The gaggle of puppies circled around her. Liz stepped backward and one yipped which sent the others into similar noises.

    ¡°Get back!¡± Liz yelled while brandishing the stick.

    Her makeshift weapon did not to stop the bear. It took another step forward while roaring. Dogs yipped and barked. Their bodies tumbled over each other. Dozens of readings appeared taking note of Liz¡¯s stance, actions, and aggressive posture. Each one weighted character points against each other. Skills started to display as partially complete.

    ¡°Back!¡± She swung the weapon, then threw it. The bear lifted up and waved both arms in the air.

    A goat came flying out of nowhere, ramming into the bear¡¯s side. It turned and snarled, as its tiny attacker bleated. Liz didn¡¯t wait she ran for her stick and jumped at the bear.

    There were snarls and two quick swipes of huge, meaty paws. My eyes closed as the event didn¡¯t end well, and quickly the room full of assorted animals started to fade. Liz stood in the aftermath, reset to a default position. My sister looked all over with wide eyes and hurried breathing. One hand wrapped around her middle that had been gutted just moments before.

    ¡°These tests, so many of them are designed to result in failure,¡± Nia said. We both watched as Liz tried to recover from the death experience. My sister didn¡¯t look happy at all.

    ¡°ARC!¡± Liz shouted. ¡°Log me out!¡±

    She faded away. The sudden departure made me freeze. My own sister had been so close that we could have touched. Shivers hit me, while chills rippled up and down an uneasy back. Ineffective swallowing couldn¡¯t remove the lump in my throat.

    ¡°How do you know?¡± I asked the elf.

    ¡°I spent many days practicing with the little robot creatures.¡±

    Eventually, Liz came back. Her next test put her in the role of a small town judge over a man charged with murder. She chose to sit there, shaking, while listening to the victim¡¯s family plead for justice to be done. Only one man stood on the murderer¡¯s side, a small girl. My sister had to choose between a grieving pack of people and the young woman no one else would take in. Liz let the unnamed man live.

    The scenarios presented weren¡¯t easy or simple. They reminded me of my own attempts in the room of trials. Each test was designed to poke at our buttons in some manner. Their importance made more sense from this side of the glass, but those inside, at least me and my sister, were easily overwhelmed by the situation. It was too real.

    ¡°The next test is yours, Grant. You can pick anyone you want, I think. It should be a very good one,¡± the elf spoke gently. We had reached the final test before I even noticed.

    System messages displayed giving me a number of choices. Voices, like me, were only allowed to directly interfere under specific conditions. Each one had a trial they could perform when interested in a Traveler. I didn¡¯t have a personal one, but the system flashed blue, telling me that having a high enough acting skill would work instead.

    I only pondered the convenience of that for a moment before looking through my options. Being someone else in front of Liz felt easier than being me. Being Leeroy and tasking my sister to combat against a monster felt unreasonable. Maud had a good scenario but lacked a personal touch. There were others, one for Mezo and Vlad, but James¡¯ test was the best. That role would be more natural than being the Jester.

    The box hovered there waiting for me to confirm the choice. I pressed yes and the room shifted. Now, instead of being behind a glass window watching Liz perform, we were in the same room together. Nothing else was visible except a pillar and book upon its surface.

    ¡°There¡¯s one last test, Miss Legate, before we let you move on,¡± I said. My hands pressed against my stomach in the mannerisms of James. Each word came out deliberately with an unexpected firmness.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Her hands went up in a defensive posture. The idea that my twin sat ready to punch me out felt amusing.

    ¡°My name is James. We met once,¡± I lied while trying to restrain budding laughter. James and Liz had met at my wedding, but I wasn¡¯t the heavyset black man at all. This was me, acting out a part. Extra weight pulled and the urge to sit hit hard. Breathing took an unexpected level of effort.

    ¡°Your final test is a straightforward one. No animals in distress, nor treasure rooms to plunder or tests of coordination. Instead, we exchange questions, me, then you, and each of us must tell the truth when answering. Does that sound fair to you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my turn, how did Continue Online get on my ARC?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve answered two questions, Miss Legate. You have one more truth before I owe you an answer.¡±

    ¡°What the hell is wrong with this game?¡± she cut off my upcoming line.

    A message flickered saying the question didn¡¯t count. That made me happy and annoyed at the same time. James clearly had a system in place to help keep track of questions and answers, I could see it. His prior slip ups were deliberate.

    ¡°Why did you step through the doorway into this world?¡± I moved on. Little use could be found berating a man who wasn¡¯t even here.

    ¡°I¡¯m, looking for something,¡± Liz said through a tense jaw.

    My sister intended to make this entire exchange difficult. Her distrust of the situation at hand was valid. ¡°Be more specific,¡± I said after sighing heavily.

    ¡°No,¡± her response was answer enough for the system. A small pop-up box appeared telling me the tally of our question and answer sessions had reached two and two.

    ¡°Then to answer your question, a great deal is wrong with this game,¡± I skirted the first question but remained truthful. We were even on the question and answer front.

    ¡°Is my brother in here?¡±

    ¡°If you want him to be, then yes.¡± Liz started to ask another question but I held up a hand to make her pause. She slowly closed her mouth. The problem was I had a hard time coming up with good questions. Hopefully, the system would let me act out James¡¯ role from my point of view. ¡°Do you blame your brother for what happened?¡±

    ¡°How do you know about that?¡±

    I debated letting the counter go, but James wouldn¡¯t. ¡°Your question, then mine. In our world, where our rules prevail, we take turns.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed and the gears started turning. My sister didn¡¯t like being told what to do by anyone, and even less by what she considered to be a lippy machine. The ARC feedback registered all sorts of possible actions but couldn¡¯t settle on anything specific.

    ¡°Who are you, really?¡± Liz deliberately stepped to one side.

    I was a man that felt happy Liz didn¡¯t have another stick to beat me with. She hadn¡¯t won against the bear, but I didn¡¯t want to be hit either. My sister was the first person to make me nervous in this new digital world. Maybe the earlier lippy response had been a bad idea.

    ¡°Who do you want me to be?¡± The initial question was cast aside. Apparently, this scenario found my current actions acceptable.

    ¡°No, wait.¡± Her gaze turned hard. It shook me to see Liz¡¯s anger directed toward me, while I posed as another man. ¡°You¡¯re all gone. I watched you leave, you especially. I remember you now, the last man to talk to my brother, before he died.¡±

    To hear her talking about me in such a way helped. It wasn¡¯t perfect, since the rules for this required me to act like the [Voice of Questioning Intent]. James would keep asking, I tried hard to fulfill the requirements for this scenario.

    ¡°What kind of game is this?¡±

    ¡°Did you know your brother asked the very same question?¡± I tried to get her back to providing an answer. Words kept slipping out, revealing more about my own thoughts than expected. ¡°Almost immediately he wondered what sort of world might use the memory of his dead wife as a lure.¡±

    ¡°Xin¡¯s not dead. She¡¯s just gone,¡± her admission of Xin¡¯s existence made me happy. ¡°Did you know my brother?¡±

    ¡°Are you going to answer any question?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to,¡± she said. I chuckled weakly at her obstinance.

    ¡°Technically that counts, so yes, I know your brother. I know him very well-¡± I paused as more information flashed on the screen, ¡°-it¡¯s my function to learn about those who visit this world, and question what drives them. It¡¯s my function to get to the core who they are and use that to channel their perceptions. It¡¯s my function to figure out what makes your heart bleed upon the page,¡± I spoke the words and found myself shaking. All of them were true, I had text boxes all around that said almost word for word what had come out of my mouth.

    ¡°What page?¡±

    ¡°What book do you think?¡± I countered the question with my own. Pretending to be James was actually kind of fun. Eagerness for wordplay combined with the ability to poke fun at my sister made it easy to smile.

    ¡°You mean that book I first opened. That book,¡± Liz said.

    ¡°Your book.¡± I nodded to the pillar. ¡°Travelers, who enter our world, as you did, each get a book.¡±

    ¡°Can I see Grant''s?¡±

    The idea made me pause for a moment. My own book was only a thought away. Inside it sat every single impression recorded by the ARC device and scores of information. It compiled all that Mother believed me to be. Nona told me that my book specifically was one of the only ones that still existed on this side after the purge.

    Instead, I turned the question around while trying not to frown. ¡°It has been over a year since his passing from your world, what do you hope to find? Do you seek some secret of your brother''s? Do you wish to know who he thought of in his last moments? Do you grieve yet?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not any of your business. No, and no, and it¡¯s still none of your business.¡± The system totaled up a number of answers in Liz¡¯s favor. She kept right on going. ¡°I know you¡¯re not really James, he left. Who are you, really?¡±

    ¡°A dead man given life,¡± I said. The machine¡¯s interface didn¡¯t agree with my simple response. A small checkbox stood there waiting for the latest answer to be provided so it could measure my sister¡¯s performance.

    ¡°They¡¯re all gone, and no one has seen them since. So who are you?¡± she insisted upon receiving an answer.

    My lip hurt from being chewed. Slowly the disguise of James fell away into nothing and all that remained was my form. This body looked closer to real life me than any Hermes avatar. Liz¡¯s eyes were wide.

    ¡°Hello, Liz,¡± I spoke and managed to keep my eyes level.

    My twin¡¯s eyes water and chin wiggled. Her mouth hung open to ask a question that couldn¡¯t be uttered out loud. She lifted one arm and for a moment I expected her to slap the hell out of me, but Liz never did. Her hands grasped together tightly.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a goddamned idiot,¡± she shakily summed up my life¡¯s story.

 Book 5 - Together; Session 111 â€“ Heâ€™s Building a Stairway

    After excessive exploration the reason for a [Messenger¡¯s Tube] made sense. It wasn¡¯t about power so much as balance. Voices appearing directly upon [Arcadia]¡¯s surface would cause issues so they devised an intermediary, plus these globes up here were pretty damned vague.

    There were programs waiting out there which would try to crush my form upon the game¡¯s surface. This one was almost a giant robotic suit which had been occupied by a Voice which brought everyone in line. The side of it even had ¡®Justice¡¯ written in flowing scrawl.

    I stared for a long time. The sight of that suit worried me because it might interfere with my plans. There were other tasks to finish but most were accomplished by what amounted to autopilot.

    ¡°That¡¯s very scary,¡± Nia said. She stood behind me trying to be very thin and succeeding. ¡°Very, very scary.¡±

    ¡°It is terrifying.¡± The suit of armor looked one breath away from coming to life. ¡°Those machines scurrying around can use this if we¡¯re not careful. The notes say that Voices caught interfering in anything outside their fiction will be forcibly removed from Arcadia, which will probably hurt.¡±

    This exact problem is why so many of the Voices were only passive observers when they came down. Michelangelo had been in his church but apparently could only offer advice. The Jester once escaped his confines to circle around Requiem, but could kill one person a month of its choosing. We were all theoretically allowed to talk or perform functions within our confines, but ultimately world impacting choices had to be made by Travelers.

    Despite the final version of my [NPC Conspiracy] trait, and having an Avatar, I was no longer a Traveler by any stretch. The idea of going back to the old version of me, the limited one that had to question so many different topics, felt scary. Up here I was capable and had most answers.

    ¡°Are you very, very sure?¡± Nia asked.

    ¡°Very,¡± I responded. Part of me wanted to summon my weapons of [Morrigu¡¯s Gift] and [Morrigu¡¯s Echo] then dismantle the creation. Destroying the actual vehicle of Balance¡¯s power felt wrong. She had used this body to pull the Jester off of me once, long ago.

    ¡°Are you sure you can¡¯t wave a very powerful wand, or cast a very powerful spell to make everything right?¡±

    ¡°Not by myself,¡± I said then looked over. The elf girl was fidgeting, her feet crossed then uncrossed. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s better for you to stay up here.¡±

    ¡°I want to go home,¡± she said. ¡°But most of my friends are gone, and those below aren¡¯t right in the head. Their spirits are very withered. Like the human you found.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to stay here too. When my sister opens the doorway, I¡¯ll go, and when it¡¯s time I¡¯ll summon the rest of you. You¡¯re part of this, and you¡¯re allowed to help.¡±

    Nia Eve and Phil weren¡¯t the only pieces of Locals that were lost in that abyss. Reconstructing them had taken days, and even then they were a bit broken. They were comparable to people with memory loss and brain damage.

    Tracking down missing people was how I filled my time while Liz started her four weeks of character creation. Beth helped a lot, and other players pitched in once they got wind. Even now there was a party of familiar faces below waiting for the [Lithium] to be completed.

    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s starting,¡± Nia said. She knelt on all fours and peered out over a cliff''s edge. The missing ground represented the gulf between this plane and the one below. We peered downward into the fog which contained an image of multiple players. Liz¡¯s face stood out the clearest.

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    My sister stood just outside a beginner town. Not [Haven Valley], but the one Beth began her journey at years ago. Liz knelt up on top of the cliff where rivers joined before falling down to the starting location. Beth stood by, looking older than I remembered. She kept her mother guarded against weaker monsters while Liz scrawled out badly written [Lithium].

    Her hands shook. Beth whispered words that were inaudible even with my abilities. Liz looked down while frowning. The others were talking. A few people started digging through their bags for various items then handed them over. I only understood some of the details, but apparently, a player summoning a Voice was far more complex than Dusk or a [Red Imp]. Liz set items in place then waved them off.

    ¡°Subject Nemesis¡¯s heart rate has increased substantially,¡± a mechanical voice said. ¡°Adjusting input-output response levels accordingly. New safety regulations are being accounted for.¡± The readings went on, but the plump blonde Voice who had read them before was missing.

    Liz chose the name of Nemesis, a title with as much meaning as Hermes or Hecate but also strangely fitting for my twin. She spent those first four weeks studying books and firing arrows. I suspected the virtual world gradually drew her in, despite the soullessness.

    Nemesis lifted a small dagger to a forearm then brought the blade across. She winced and guilt shot through me. Liz had to be the one to summon me. Even Continue Online knew we were twins, and that meant a lot to the program left behind by Mother.

    ¡°Grant?¡± my sister whispered over the circle. ¡°Can you hear me?¡±

    ¡°I can,¡± I said toward the foggy cloud. What we saw were two different sides of the same situation. It felt like the [Red Imp] all over again. I felt tempted to demand cupcakes, but Dusk was gone.

    ¡°Is this enough?¡± she asked.

    The fog looked completely different to me. Not in anything outright visible, but before it felt solid. Now it looked possible to fall through it toward the world below.

    ¡°It should work.¡± There were notes implying that my old avatar could walk the world below, not me as a Voice, but Hermes the character. ¡°I¡¯ll try to come through. Be careful and move back a little bit, I don¡¯t know exactly what will happen.¡±

    ¡°Everyone backup,¡± Liz dipped in volume as the gaggle of Travelers took steps backward. Their forms faded into the mist and became dots which represented players we couldn¡¯t see directly from here.

    ¡°Be very careful, Gift the Gate,¡± Nia said. She glanced at the huge mechanical creature that hung behind us. Once I left it would start to fade.

    ¡°Don¡¯t break anything while I¡¯m gone.¡± I smiled then stepped out over the edge.

    Falling wasn¡¯t exactly falling. The world tilted but at the same time, it was like walking through a thick layer of water that beat down upon me. My mind felt dulled. Part of me stripped away and the world became raw, fresh, and terribly limited. The world tightened into place around me with rules and weights.

    No sensation described the change perfectly. The closest thing that came to mind was like peeling off unrestrained clothes such as pajamas or comfortable nightwear, and putting on a business suit. Items were equipped and clothing transformed to the toga. Tingles shot up and down my arm as further changes were made. Instead of black for mourning, it now looked a faded yellow, as if dyed by sunflowers.

    My mouth hung open. Humming filled my ears and both knees hurt. I gasped for air while clenching a hand to my chest.

    ¡°Voices,¡± I muttered trying to right myself.

    Grass sat frozen and bowed away from me. Muscles in my back clenched tightly together and refused to let go. One hand trembled as it searched for anything tangible. The problem was, everything down here felt so much more real than Hal Pal or being a Voice.

    ¡°Uncle Grant?¡± someone said. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    The question registered but only violent head shaking came out. My leg jerked and everything tumbled to one side. I ended up on my back, vibrating and trying to line up with the most suppressed version of myself since dying.

    ¡°He¡¯s twitching like a bug,¡± another woman said in disgust.

    ¡°Be nice,¡± the responding person spoke in a lighter tone. There were figures further away but they looked so, mundane. One held a giant shield that had to be bigger than she was. The other stood tall and lanky in a blue robe.

    Slowly it all came together. Everything settled and my limbs almost responded correctly to thought. People around me, presented only in a visual spectrum, started to make sense. One hand shook as back and forth as if disgusting material resided upon me, but only the feeling of having real skin came back.

    ¡°This is weird,¡± I said.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Liz asked me. Her clothing hadn¡¯t changed from the basic starter material despite Beth¡¯s attempts at providing better gear. Only browns and grays lined her colors, compared to a crimson swath, blue robe, and white gold radiance.

    ¡°Nothing, I¡¯ve just been, in a different realm. I think it¡¯s messing me up readjusting to, normal.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Elane said. She lifted her shield in a shrug then let it slam back to the ground. It looked heavier than before.

    TinkerHell stood next to her friend but looked sadder than I remembered. My mind reached out for information but received no automated response. Whatever bothered her would be a question for another day.

    ¡°Sorry, it just takes time to get used to this again.¡±

    Questions poured forth asking about what had happened, where I had gone, and what special zone kept me busy for nearly a year of game time. Most of them had no clue where I had actually gone, due in part to the Voice¡¯s manipulation ahead of time. Apparently only a few truly knew of my real death, family, Trillium higher ups, and my lawyers.

    My sister, niece, and I talked ahead of time about how to present our situation. Some people knew about Shazam, but they weren¡¯t aware that I had died in those final moments. One person coming back was unlikely enough, let alone three. Despite suspension and time, no one talked about it online, or any location that could be tracked as a Voice.

    Between the three of us, we decided to lie, not because the idea of convincing them I had died and was now walking around sounded, but because it was kinder than suggesting they might have perished my place. People, anyone who watched me on the video stream, could put it together. Despite that, a majority of people on the internet believed my character had simply entered a secret event. They weren¡¯t completely inaccurate.

    ¡°Awesome! You¡¯re alive!¡± Awesome Jr. shouted. He had filled in during the last year. His neck was thicker than I remembered. The ugly green cloak had been replaced by a slightly nicer, but still green garment.

    Beth and Liz were looking at each other without saying much. My sister¡¯s eyes were wet with moisture. The subject of my passing had clearly left scars on them.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said with a smile. ¡°My character was just stuck.¡±

    ¡°Your stats are all weird,¡± Shadow muttered using a rough tone. HotPants nodded while twisting her hands around a new staff.

    ¡°What¡¯s that Voice title. Is that why we had to summon you?¡± SweetPea asked. ¡°Aren¡¯t they like, gods in this game?¡±

    Both hands went up and I tried to shrug it off. ¡°I guess that¡¯s what happens when you hold off a world altering event. I¡¯m not really all powerful, though.¡±

    The quartet exchanged glances. Messages were typed that barely registered. Looking at chat windows was no longer an automatic action to me. By the time I caught up with the rolling wall of text a note from my niece popped up saying, ¡®Just move on¡¯.

    I tried to gather my thoughts. Reconstructing people had been hard enough. Talking to Liz about how we needed to build a tower in [Haven Valley] took even more out of me. Beth understood at least the purpose. She had spent days rambling about programming requirements and technology needs. The girl was smart, smarter than we had ever hoped to be.

    That was how I found out she switched majors from the study of energy to programming and intelligence replication. Apparently, Nona recommended her for a course while I was dancing away with another woman. Time marched on for everyone else but seemed to skip by rapidly for me.

    I stood up slowly. Disorientation hit me and both legs threatened to buckle. My head tipped forward and everything else followed, slamming right into Liz. She tried to hold me up but started to slip. It took her, Beth, and Elane to push me back to standing.

    Heavy eyelids threatened to roll. The air around here made me want to sneeze. I took a breath then risked more conversation. ¡°So about the project, do you think you can help?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you need our help,¡± Liz said. ¡°Now that you¡¯re back, are we needed?¡±

    ¡°He can¡¯t do it alone, not this,¡± Beth responded to her mom. ¡°We¡¯ve, well it¡¯s like what happened when everything fell apart. We¡¯ve got to build something in the game for it to work right.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s talking about the Dopple-Krine Resonance effect,¡± Awesome Jr. started babbling out a long-winded theory. My sister looked absolutely lost. I would have been too if it wasn¡¯t for being living proof.

    Essentially it was the same way I saw the world, digital code had somehow been altered by Mother over the years to allow virtual actions to impact the flow of information. More people helping would be more ARC units sharing the processing power. Each one would form a link of sorts in a giant chain. We would use those to compile a program, almost growing it instead of hard code. Fifteen years ago, in high school, I would have told everyone that¡¯s not how technology worked. Time had changed the rules.

    ¡°Where¡¯s that cool girl? You know, the one that¡¯s too good for you,¡± Elane focused on the important things.

    ¡°Xin¡¯s not here, she went through the portal,¡± Liz spoke clearly to her friend.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s stupid,¡± the shorter Hispanic woman said. Her face wrinkled but she didn¡¯t sound upset at all. They must have come to grips with my wife¡¯s existence as a digital character. It also meant that Elane probably knew about my death but was keeping quiet.

    ¡°Getting back to her is why I started, playing again.¡± The words made me pause and look around. Xin had been the reason for a lot of choices in my life, and today, here and now, it hit me just how many were her fault.

    Without her ghost, I would probably have never taken Continue Online seriously. Without her death, I would have been working hard toward earning money for a spot to Mars. If Xin hadn¡¯t ever met me all those years ago, if I hadn¡¯t fallen so obsessively in love, and if so many other moments hadn¡¯t turned left the way they did.

    Regardless, the desire to be with her was constant. It pulled, and before the action fully registered, I had already started walking off down the road. My legs barely resisted the urge to run. Windows popped up that displayed messages that didn¡¯t matter.

    ¡°Where are you going!¡± my niece shouted after me.

    ¡°To Haven Valley! Where we need to build a tower!¡± My chest heaved. There were players in the way, people I absently recognized but pushed by anyway. ¡°To get my wife!¡±

    Water welled in both eyes and I took a breath to let the sensation die away. There wasn¡¯t time to feel sad or pity, only action. Every minute mattered, and a delay now would only put off reuniting with the love of my lives.

    I had to vacuum the house and do the dishes. The laundry needed to be put away and ingredients bought for dinner. My head shook abruptly as a routine from years ago went by. This wasn¡¯t the past, but there were definitely tasks to accomplish so that Xin and I could reunite.

    Beth¡¯s starting town lay weeks away from [Haven Valley]. I needed to reach whatever remained of the town. Asking normal people to keep up with my mad charge across the face of [Arcadia] was silly.

    The landscape of []b[Arcadia][/r] proper was too large. I walked for days, only stopping briefly to pick up paper airplanes that lay along the roadsides. Players on autopilot or actively played trailed behind me. Occasionally one would catch up to ask questions or offer shortcuts across the landscape, ones that were new to me.

    They all had shortcuts, and my own knowledge was lacking. There was the moon, but I didn¡¯t understand how to use that path. Instead, we crawled through a tree trunk that revealed a still lake in the mountains. After that SweetPea showed us a mountain peak nearby which we leapt off sideways, only to roll to our feet on a field of purple flowers hundreds of miles away. Our path zigged across the globe.

    In the field of flowers, we found two small paper airplanes wet from mountain dew. Another dozen hung in a forest tree along our path, but all the other plants were void of white sheets. More airplanes were matted like ugly hats atop two [Coo-Coo Rill]s that tried to pelt Awesome Jr. with nuts. I gathered them all and held each one close.

    ¡°Do you know what those are?¡± Beth asked me one day. ¡°Everyone keeps finding them, some think it¡¯s tied to the event.¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± I said, putting the latest piece of folded paper into my treasure trove of them. Nona had gathered thousands.

    Some papers were yellowed from age. Others were dirty. They formed a timeline that made me worry for Xin. For the first time in months, I started to really, seriously, worry and question what was happening. Was she hurting out there, sending out cries for help? Had [World Eater]s snuck into their refuge? How long had my wife been throwing them down here?

    Down wasn¡¯t the right word for our situation, but it was the only one which fit. I looked off toward the west and thought of the beam of light that she was dragged up. Somewhere near there was the keyhole. Xin sat on the other side of a doorway generating an endless stream of paper airplanes. At least I hoped she did. If this didn¡¯t work then I would truly be lost.

    ¡°Faith,¡± I muttered to myself one day. ¡°I need to have faith that this will work.¡± Holding myself aloft from the urgency proved harder and harder. I was so close.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Liz asked catching up to us. She huffed heavily but tried to stay logged on. The sacrifice of playing inside a digital reality for so long wasn¡¯t lost on me.

    ¡°These are from Xin.¡± I held out a dozen pieces of paper. ¡°She¡¯s trying to reach me, at least I believe so, I hope so.¡±

    My lip shook. It was much easier to watch all this while being detached in the realm above. Shaking back and forth helped, playing music and recalling the steps for a waltz got me into a positive space. Not distant, but looking forward to reuniting with Xin. Emotional detachment was my life before Continue Online, not after. Even those like me, who were constructed from memories, couldn¡¯t take the road not traveled.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be okay, little brother,¡± Liz said quietly. ¡°We¡¯ll get your stupid tower built, and make things right. Right?¡±

    I nodded then kept moving. Our path wound all around the globe before we finally arrived at [Haven Valley].

    [Haven Valley] was a flatland. Tons of other parts to Continue Online were reverted, but this place looked desolate. As if the town didn¡¯t exist back during release, and maybe it hadn¡¯t. Maybe it didn¡¯t exist until William Carver settled down somewhere to start his project.

    The call had gone out to [Valhalla Knights] along with plenty of other guilds. Hundreds of people were waiting, ready to work on a project they knew nothing about, especially if it would solve this event to bring life to their game world. They wanted to help, and more arrived every hour.

    One player stood to the side. His face dripped with sweat and both arms managed to stay straight out. Fingers curled tightly and knuckles were turning blue. In front of him was a small purple portal that Travelers were stepping out of.

    I grabbed chalk and sticks then outlined where the tower¡¯s base would go. Players, some who were foremen in real life, started organizing crews to work on different parts of the building. Foundation, support beams, materials, all of it mattered to them. I only cared about the size and location.

    ¡°We need to get up there, at least three hundred feet.¡± My hand pointed toward a spot up above. The small outline of a keyhole could be seen against white clouds. Carver¡¯s quartet of [Legecy Wish] bearers could probably see it too.

    ¡°Twenty stories then, maybe. It¡¯ll be difficult to do it with classical materials. Buildings just weren¡¯t designed to go that high,¡± the man said while squinting. His nose wrinkled as he waved to other people.

    ¡°I,¡± ideas occurred to me which caused a pause, ¡°I have a spell that should make the material sturdy afterward. It¡¯s just a matter of laying down the foundation. I can¡¯t help with that, my quest won¡¯t let me.¡±

    The choice to build this tower had to be theirs. Those were the rules laid down by Mother. Player, people from the real world, needed to make the gesture and Voices were only allowed to enforce the decisions made. We provided clues, hunts, breadcrumbs, and occasionally building sites.

    ¡°Why here?¡± the thin looking foreman asked. He wore a white helmet that was rounded on the top.

    ¡°It has to be here. Here is where the first beam was. Here is where the return platform needs to be,¡± I answered without looking over.

    The man wandered off and left me staring upward. Players milled around in huge numbers. Orders were shouted back and forth. My mind sat a million miles away, staring at the keyhole that hopefully held all the answers. My [Altered Matrix] weighed heavily in the toga¡¯s folds.

    ¡°Fifty thousand gold, and six epic items. That¡¯s my final offer,¡± a new voice said. ¡°For that much, I¡¯ll work like no one else in this entire crew.¡±

    I laughed without even needing to see who spoke. At some point, the sun had gone down and Requiem Mass had arrived at the party. The boy never missed a chance to obtain gold.

    ¡°Honestly, you¡¯re getting a good deal,¡± the young man pressed. ¡°I¡¯m easily worth one hundred thousand and three legendaries.¡±

    ¡°How about a Rank Twenty Five demon companion,¡± I told the player.

    There was a brief paused then Requiem said, ¡°You have those just laying around? I deserve three, but will settle for two.¡±

    There were Locals that had survived the purge in pieces. Their lives were half what they had been before. Wraith, the [Greater Demon] had been one of the lost data chunks recovered by Nona and put into storage. Entire swaths of his life were missing, to the point where he didn¡¯t recognize me or anyone else. His mumbled about family but knew nothing beyond the search for someone.

    My hand dug into the toga for a package of round spheres, similar to what Phil had turned into. I casually slid it over my fingers. The marble rolled around, then flashed a bright gold. A puff of sulfur smelling smoke curled outward, and as it faded a figure appeared.

    ¡°Wraith, this is Requiem,¡± I said to the new figure.

    ¡°You soul smells greedy,¡± Wraith said immediately, judging the teen and glaring. His voice no longer sounded as dark, but instead cracked with late puberty.

    Requiem didn¡¯t look convinced. His head turned to me. ¡°That¡¯s not Wraith. Wraith followed you and died to the World Eaters. I watched it from the shore. He died.¡±

    It didn¡¯t surprise me that the young man had been watching us from somewhere else. The Traveler certainly knew how to get around quickly and his black clothes probably made it easy to hide from regular monsters.

    ¡°I think you two can help each other, and my rule for binding you is very simple.¡± I turned to look at them. Wraith had lost a lot of size after my efforts to put him together. He no longer towered at nine feet of terror-inspiring meanness. Instead, he looked like a sixteen-year-old boy full of arrogance and cute horns.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± Wraith said.

    ¡°Requiem?¡± I raised an eyebrow at the teen.

    The boy¡¯s lips pursed together in thought. Fingers were out doing calculations. I put my own hand out and closed it over the teen¡¯s to stop him from getting lost in a pointless scheme.

    ¡°Take care of each other. Wraith will do anything for family, and you need someone in your life.¡± I sighed. The young boy had no parents of note, he was one of many loose ends to be helped, if he would accept it. ¡°The bond I¡¯m suggesting is one of family. Treat each other well, and accept if you want.¡±

    Both the Local and Traveler got messages that were prearranged by me. It was easier to set them up while I had been above, and not in in the Hermes avatar.

    Both paused to consider, but surprisingly, Requiem pressed accept first then said, ¡°Forty thousand for the labor then.

    I laughed then waved the pair away. They both left, but days later he and the demon were hard at work moving wooden beams around. Upon that meeting, Requiem nodded at me but made no mention of being paid. He simply worked hard and spent his breaks with Wraith talking about nothing at all. The change in demeanor was impressive.

    Days marched on. As we finished the bottom floor, I started walking laps around it. The construction was detailed but dull. Pieces were put together but they still had bolts and sharp corners. Wood jutted out and brick had to be plastered together with mortar.

    My hand ran along the edge and I concentrated on bringing all the separate pieces together. Two bricks clinked then became one. Ooze dripped off the side, and what it represented in programming language was beyond me.

    ¡°What¡¯s going?¡± Awesome Jr. asked from above. His forehead glistened with sweat.

    My head shook. Part of my mind had shut off in order to let whatever was happening progress forward. More people gathered, their bodies dimmed as eyesight started to blur. Two more pieces came together, and soon entire chunks of the first floor were whole.

    ¡°Hey, Hermes! Do you need help?¡± someone shouted in sharp words.

    I found enough spare attention to yell back with a, ¡°No!¡±

    Not all pieces went together perfectly, but a lot did. I walked around again letting inhuman instinct guide me. One entire panel turned into a whole piece that shimmered with gold.

    This wasn¡¯t the old me magically accessing some spell, this was digital me syncing up bits of code into a whole. I knew but didn¡¯t understand on a conscious level.

    The same thing happened at every single floor. Players constructed, gathered materials from all over [Arcadia], then brought them back and started crafting. The floors went on. First one, then two, until a week later we reached ten floors and started losing steam.

    ¡°How much further? I can¡¯t keep calling out from work.¡± Liz sat on her haunches huffing. We had been at this project for over a month of real-time. Building a tower to the heavens wasn¡¯t a quick task.

    During downtime, Travelers would sit out of the sun and let their characters recover. A large shelter had been built below, with simple brick and slats of metal across the top. It did little to stop the heat but did manage to reduce sunburn. We were all virtual, but the ARC still provided feedback of real damage if people got too red.

    Liz and I sat at the furthest edge of shade and looked up. A giant keyhole hung in the air above. In my mind, I could see shimmers of what the building needed to be. We were halfway then an arch would be placed on one side, functioning like a door frame. The keyhole would end up right in the middle.

    ¡°We¡¯re making good progress,¡± I tried to sound positive. It felt so close, and far away. I hadn¡¯t logged out in days and had no clue what was going on back in reality.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± HotPants arrived with two huge backpacks of goods. She flopped them down to one side of our shaded spot then collapsed out of the sun.

    ¡°Hello, Angry Rear,¡± Nia Eve said. She brought water to all of us.

    ¡°Hey, Drifty One,¡± the woman responded. My sister stared at them then shook her head. Apparently, at some point, Nia Eve had unleashed a speech about name meanings.

    We sat there relaxing and letting the weather cool down. Once high noon passed we would get back out to the building and work on the next floor up.

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember this place,¡± another man said. Phil, one of the people I brought down with me, looked lost. He kept gazing toward the south in search of something familiar.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be okay, Phil. Soon, we should be able to find all your friends. The littles you helped save, remember?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t help Emily,¡± he lamented. Phil found focusing harder than Wraith. He didn¡¯t have the strength or attention span. Frequently throughout the day the young man dropped everything then gazed off into space.

    ¡°But you¡¯ve been a great help to us. When we get done, your name and everyone else''s will be spoken of across the world. If we succeed, you¡¯ll have brought them all back to their homes,¡± I said. We were on the right track, but it felt like the pieces weren¡¯t connecting like they should be.

    The building should have been one solid and complete piece. I knew that, but couldn¡¯t get all the materials to connect together right. Something was missing.

    We kept building. Fifteen floors, then eighteen, and finally upon the twentieth floor we started making a flattened roof. Carriages hung off the side for people to assemble parts and nail pieces together. The wind blew frequently shaking their rickety devices.

    I went over every single inch of the top platform twice, then asked for people to drag up bricks thicker than my arms. They took hours to make it up and down the stairs, while others tried to use a pulley system. This last part was for me to complete.

    ¡°Are you going to be okay?¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°We¡¯re staying, Grant,¡± Liz declared abruptly.

    A small smile found its way to my face, then I nodded again.

    Stacking the bricks was easier than expected. They left my hand and floated into position faster than some of the construction workers had managed. Even those who used [Lithium] to assist in crafting would have been hard pressed to compete.

    Each one found its position. Once they were assembled I checked the keyhole, it was dull and intangible. Poking the [Altered Matrix] key provided no changes. We weren¡¯t completely ready yet.

    I took a deep breath then started the same process upon the arch. [Anchor] let me climb up the side like a spider. One hand brushed over every single surface while the other hung on. Each slow attempt took a trickle of power as a Voice, but not enough to unbalance the world. The rules could be stretched slightly, the Voice of Balance was gone.

    Finally, the doorway, easily a dozen times larger than any normal passage, was complete.

    ¡°Is that it?¡± Beth asked. I turned to see her and a dozen other people standing on the far side. They looked tired. Bags hung under some players eyes others outright lay sideways on the roof.

    ¡°I think so,¡± I said.

    The tower shuddered. I tried to turn my thoughts toward stabilizing against the sudden shift. Something rumbled the earth. Dirt shifted and shook as cracks formed along the ground. Our virtual world was trying to reject the device built. It didn¡¯t fit right into the coding, but how I knew that was beyond me.

    ¡°No, no,¡± I mumbled to myself.

    People were yelling at each other. Some pointed overhead. I had no idea at what, all that mattered was the platform under my hands. Fingertips brushed across the wood, rapidly turning the smoothed pieces into a cohesive whole.

    We were so close. I tried to smooth out the final floor by making pieces connect. It felt like we were in a race, my sleeping mind¡¯s merger of the building against Continue Online¡¯s impending denial.

    Everything threatened to tilt. Twenty floors rumbling sideways as my mind felt the ground below, the sky above, and our entire foundation going to one side.

    ¡°No!¡± I screamed and the air rippled outward. ¡°No goddammit! NO!¡±

    We were close. I could feel it. The keyhole was there. I ran to the platform edge and tried to reach out. Our crafted tower rumbled again and the floor cracked. That couldn¡¯t be allowed.

    Both arms reached wide to grasp onto the edges of our platform. My mind bent toward once again assembling bits of code, but larger amounts than before and with far less subtly. The virtual world disagreed while the automated programs acting as Balance tried to enforce their role.

    An unimaginable weight pressed down upon me. It flattened my body, pressed air from lungs, numbed toes and put pressure upon my skull. I looked up and saw the hand, the giant hand of a huge robot appear and reach down. Its shoulder lost somewhere in a swirl of clouds.

    ¡°No!¡± I yelled again.

    Beth said something. Her words didn¡¯t register. Liz tried to yell at me. This wouldn¡¯t end in death, her argument was invalid, whatever it was. Failure, however, loomed.

    Fingers spread out wide, I raised both hands. Weapons appeared but they would do no good, not against a function of the world. I dropped them and put my hands down, into the building. They sunk in and chills crawled up my arms.

    Something pulled desperately at the building. It was like being four and trying to keep toys away from my dad. I took a breath and plunged myself further in, grasping at the edges of an object that couldn¡¯t possibly fit, but at the same time did.

    Desperation and insanity went hand in hand. Memories were sorted through rapidly in hopes of finding an answer. Two different pieces surfaced. James had said something to me, in those final days. If I had to be both a person and a purpose, what would I be?

    Nia had said it herself, Gift of the Gate. She called me it over and over. Hermes the Messenger didn¡¯t matter. Hermes, guardian of the border didn¡¯t matter. Those were names for the in-game character, but they weren¡¯t really me. I was Grant Legate.

    ¡°I am Grant, I am the Voice of the Gate. I am Grant, I am the Voice of the Gate,¡± I muttered the line over and over praying that it would work like everything else. Thought became action, action was done by rewriting code toward a purpose.

    Nearby people¡¯s feet were visible. Nia¡¯s dainty form swung something that rung in my ears. My sister and niece were fighting, even though Liz had no clue what she was doing. Awesome Jr. along with the quartet laid into their enemy.

    ¡°It¡¯s not working,¡± the teen leader shouted. Information flashed in front of me briefly, he wasn¡¯t a teenager anymore. Two months ago Awesome Jr. turned twenty.

    The lapse in concentration cost me. My form lifted slightly and I struggled to pull myself back toward the building. Roots of the foundation were being pulled upwards. I focused upon welding the construct together. This tower to the land of [Arcadia], and myself to the building.

    ¡°This is mine!¡± I shouted at the pressure pulling me up. ¡°You won¡¯t take this away!¡± This was it. If I were to have a purpose in life it would be making this gate work. If nothing else, than this.

    I was arguing with a program that had no personality. Pissing against the wind would have been more effective. Still, I hung on. Fingertips kept their joints locked tightly. My knuckles were white from strain somehow, despite being buried in the building¡¯s material. Pressure crushed my ribs together until bones cracked. The wind above howled as people below started screaming.

    As Hermes the character burned away under the pressure, all that was left was simply me, a man who only wanted to be with his wife. I could feel players logging off. Others tried to charge up the stairs but pressure kept them back. Those closest to me were trying to fight Balance¡¯s giant robot shell but their attacks did nothing.

    Anyone still fighting roared out their defiance. Those struggling to make it up yelled questions. I screamed. My mind felt partitioned into chunks. Pieces laid around latching one object to another. It felt like my body was being compacted into an unexpected space. Vision became fuzzy then ears popped. Something clicked loudly then abruptly the struggle ended.

    My fingers were locked in place. It took time to feel safe enough and unlatch myself. Balance¡¯s machine lay on the tower side, slumped like a giant woman drunkenly passed out on a chair. Cracks were formed along the faceplate, marring its still perfection.

    Nearby an archway stood, calmly, as if it had never been threatened at all. My arms detached from the building, but part of me stayed behind. It felt like an unexpected limb.

    ¡°Voice of the Gate,¡± the words came out in unsteady breath. My gut kept tightening in jerks. I stared at the arch in wonder. It looked black, pitch black. Thin strands of gold like veins began at the doorway''s base and grew in size until they were rivers going down the building edge.

    The hole was right there. I stumbled over and lifted the key, slid it in, and turned. Light trickled down from above like a waterfall of snow. It poured into the gateway we had built then flattened into a near circle shape.

    One hand went to my chest as a vein twitched deep inside. I could feel the gate activating. I could feel something large and heavy charging through. The figure barreled out of the gateway straight toward me. He held up his giant sword and had both eyes closed. The figure knew where I stood and swung the blade down in an overhead cleave.

    Ribs tingled and breathing hurt. Each movement caused a wince. The act of sidestepping the weapon made me gasp.

    ¡°Ah ha! Foul villain! I¡¯ll best you yet!¡± he shouted words at me with his eyes closed. ¡°I¡¯ve come to claim the motherland in the name of, us!¡±

    ¡°Leeroy.¡± I coughed then repeated myself as the giant blade came back up, ¡°Leeroy!¡± More coughing ensued. Everything ached and probably would for a long time.

    The giant barbarian cracked one eye open and raised his eyebrows in surprise. ¡°Hermes?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s safe.¡±

    Everywhere Leeroy stepped, golden trails were temporarily replaced by black. The shifting colors slowly stopped and became pure. We both watched the effect as the other Voice walked a circle around me.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡± he questioned me while holding the sword in a ready position.

    I felt for the part of my mind which was more Voice than human. An explanation came, but I had no way to know if he would understand. This entire tower was serving as an ongoing patching system. It turned the data which had been saved into something immunized against any future [World Eater].

    ¡°It¡¯s to make you safe here,¡± was my explanation. Somehow the code was being rewritten in a new language, or compiled with a new technique. I knew but didn¡¯t understand at the same time.

    ¡°It¡¯s safe to come back?¡± he asked me.

    I nodded.

    ¡°It¡¯s really safe? No more being killed forever and ever?¡±

    I nodded.

    Leeroy ran to the portal and dipped his head into a shimmering pool of liquid. His chest heaved with an unheard shout. After three lungfuls of air he pulled back out mid shout of, ¡°It¡¯s safe!¡±

    The flood started. People poured out in droves. I put up a hand while reeling from the sudden influx.

    ¡°Wait, until your feet are gold, downstairs, there¡¯s room.¡± I pointed toward the stairs down. Twenty floors, more than enough for thousands of people to come through and adapt to the upgraded system.

    Many went straight down, there were faces I didn¡¯t recognize. Others nodded at me, Locals and Travelers alike. A gaggle of children poured out and instead of paying attention to me, they ran for the collapsed form of Phil. Mylia came out after, shepherding the charges. I waved her off and stood there while more people came.

    My back sagged and shoulders drooped. Knees hit the floor as my head hung forward. They had survived. All of this had been successful.

    ¡°What did you do to my precious?¡± a woman shouted. Her voice wasn¡¯t one I recognized.

    I looked up to see a female made of silver shouting indistinct words at me. They went by without registering as an absent thought occurred. Her silver form looked vaguely like the dead giant to my side. The tiny creature that must be Balance ran off with both hands waving to either side. Soon she and the giant body vanished in a shimmer of lights, leaving me confused.

    People continued to stream out. I looked, hoping to see Xin step off the platform. Other people sat huddled behind me. I didn¡¯t know who exactly. Their bits of information floated around as background noise.

    ¡°Babe?¡± I shouted. ¡°Are you there?¡± No one in the crowd looked like Xin. A few responded some looked wounded, but not one of them were my wife.

    Footsteps stumbled toward the portal. Bodies came out and I pushed them out of the way. People behind me started talking but like so many other moments they didn¡¯t matter, only one thing did. Finding Xin, and reaching my wife. For months I had been focused upon that simple goal. I wasn¡¯t about to let fear stop me.

    Eyes closed automatically upon hitting the cool portal edge. I fell into it and felt myself being scoured by small pelts of sand. They whipped around scraping at skin and threatening to fill my lungs to bursting.

    My body bunched up uncomfortably. Everything felt small. Opening my eyes revealed rushing by. Their nearly intangible bodies moved like a sea of ghosts against me. They, and I, all tried to cram into a dust-filled tunnel. I put one arm forward fumbling for a path through.

    Each step reminded me of the pain which nearly caved in my chest. After forever struggling against the tide my fingers touched empty air. It took a total of four minutes to break through to the other side.

    All around long lines of people were trying to pass through. I staggered by them looking for any signs of the woman I loved. To the right was an endless mob. Ahead were even more, Voices and Locals alike. Dozens of Hal Pal units stood in the lineup along with [Mechanoid]s and other creatures.

    ¡°Xin!¡± I yelled into a mob of people all chattering excitedly. A few looked in my direction but none were her. I spun in circles hoping she hadn¡¯t gone by.

    ¡°Xin!¡±

    ¡°User Legate?¡± someone asked.

    I turned immediately to the source of noise. One of the Hal Pal units had walked over. Its head tilted slightly and muted features were trying to smile and frown at the same time. Four units followed behind, each with the same mixed up expressions.

    ¡°User Legate, we are both pleased and saddened to see you here,¡± two of them spoke in unison.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I,¡± I was about to be rude to one of my few friends, or collections of friends. My body paused and took a deep breath. The air tasted heavy with the scent of a million different people. ¡°Is Xin here? Is she okay?¡±

    The Hal Pal units turned in unison to look at each other, then pointed as one toward the right. There was a yawn and clack of teeth that made my head jerk to the side.

    ¡°Dusk!¡± I yelled at the [Messenger¡¯s Pet].

    He sat next to a bag of marbles with a leisurely flipping tail. The fact that my companion looked completely unsurprised made me shake my head. Feet almost started running off before I remembered to thank the others.

    ¡°Thank you!¡± I shook one by the shoulders in passing. A ¡°Thank you!¡± was said again before staying there became impossible. ¡°How¡¯s Jeeves?¡± I shouted at them while running where they pointed.

    ¡°He¡¯s in love!¡± a chorus of Hal Pal units answered in a hundred different happy voices.

    I felt lighter but kept moving. There were hundreds of people to sift through. Dusk¡¯s tiny form hissed at those straying too close. Most gave him wide berth, even the larger monsters slowly striding along.

    Hands struggled to pick up the small creature. He kicked and wound around then finally settled upon my shoulder. His mouth opened in a yawn before a wing gestured toward the pile of marbles.

    I picked one up. They were memories from before being reincarnated in the digital plane. Each one sank easily into place against other memories. Sickness didn¡¯t strike me like it had with Nona¡¯s product.

    I rubbed the tiny guy¡¯s head then said, ¡°There are cupcakes in my Atrium if you can figure out where it was moved to.¡±

    Dusk smiled, then leapt down and off across the landscape. The [Messenger¡¯s Pet] ignored all lines and dove into the portal after one of the many Hal Pal units.

    My wife sat nearby. I could see her now that the crowd had started to thin out. Memories were still flashing, a million moments of time from different angles realigned until they came from my eyes and not some outside recording device.

    Finally, I sat down next to her and reached out a hand. We were sitting at the edge of a black cliff overlooking emptiness. She yanked the arm away violently.

    ¡°Go away. You¡¯re not real,¡± she said and sniffled. ¡°You¡¯ll just fall apart like all the others, but it¡¯s okay. I forgive you.¡±

    The response made me pause. My wife¡¯s feet were dangling over the edge. In her hands was another folded paper airplane, she cast it off the side and I watched it wind a path down.

    We sat there, as people flowed through the portal behind us. Every so often numbers would roll by my vision to one side. They tallied an amount of Locals and types of data going back and forth. Each one served to remind me of the role I had taken to get here.

    ¡°There¡¯s this girl I met once.¡± I held my breath steady and pretended it was another confession to the room of strangers from my recovering addict meetings. ¡°She was beautiful, but hard to get close to. I tried anyway, for a year, before finally asking her out in high school.¡±

    Xin didn¡¯t move. Her hands carefully folded a piece of paper. The motion was smooth and well-practiced, but it felt like something had broken inside of her. She was just going through the motions, not really registering what happened.

    ¡°Do you know what happened?¡± I asked her.

    She didn¡¯t respond but instead threw the latest airplane off into the distance.

    I continued with, ¡°She told me no, outright, to my face, in front of my sister. Liz, oh god, she was furious. Liz swore up and down that this girl I liked would never be good enough. That she was stupid for not seeing me as a good man.¡±

    The silence stretched on. There were people assembling behind us. Their presence registered briefly then were discarded as unimportant. Only getting Xin to snap out of her funk and return to reality mattered. I forged ahead again.

    ¡°It didn¡¯t matter to me. I knew then the purpose of my life. I knew it the first time we met in that petting zoo, and I knew it every day in-between. Do you want to hear what that purpose is? My reason for living?¡±

    She sniffed once more then shook her head. My wife looked resigned to failure as if I had died a thousand times in front of her already. That feeling haunted my nightmares for years. I reached for her hand again which caused the short Asian woman to look over.

    ¡°I knew that no matter where you went, or what it cost me, I would find a way to follow you. You are my life, Xin, and I¡¯m never leaving you, or letting you go anywhere without me again.¡±

    Her broken gaze shifted from the abyss''s edge toward me. The eyes moved jerkily then watered.

    "Gee?" she questioned softly. ¡°Is it really you?¡±

    "It''s me, babe.¡± My arms closed around her. We stood slowly and I tried to lead us into the start of a slow dance. ¡°I¡¯m really here.¡±

    Tears soaked my shirt and that was alright. The road had been long, but we were together. To me, nothing else mattered.

 Book 5 - Together; Conclude â€“ Angels Dancing On Pinheads

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td style="text-align: center">The Public Story</td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    In the weeks that followed, many people tried to reconstruct exactly what had happened. The true connection between these events and the system outages in modern technology was only speculated. It wasn¡¯t until the government started getting responses to their inquiries that the enormity of what had happened became apparent.

    Actual confirmation took even longer, but until then, the story following circulated as people pieced together those final events.

    In the grounds that had once contained [Haven Valley], a large platform now stood. The building existed across all the games that echoed Continue Online. In one reality, it hung high in the air outside a black hole that had worked as a gateway portal to allow NPCs to flee the dying universe. In another, it hovered over a lake, allowing citizens to flee an interdimensional horror that threatened their lives. A fourth copy ended up in the middle of a war-torn battlefield that looked vaguely like New York two decades ago. Few noticed it.

    In the fantasy world of Continue Online, the tower¡¯s form jutted twenty stories, then flattened out like a landing pad. A black stone doorway arched over the western side, and when Travelers first looked through, they saw only an ocean. Starting at the base, a golden lattice pattern traveled upward along varnished obsidian. Players didn¡¯t understand the reason for this, but Locals had a story. They told people that the change in colors symbolized a transmutation between one world and the next. A line that Travelers couldn¡¯t cross to a place called [Beyond].

    Those who had worked on the building reported that moving up the pathway caused breathing to change. With each step, the world transformed until the landscape below felt as if it were a distant memory. A few daring souls speculated that this arch may be the doorway to a content expansion going to further dimensions and it simply hadn¡¯t been unlocked. Even more believed it to be a way to transfer their characters over to other games without losing their progress.

    The day the building lit up, after the accumulation of weeks of work, a few lucky souls were allowed to stand atop the platform. They awaited the gateway¡¯s activation. Their bodies weighed heavily upon the tower foundations, but the material did not budge. It was a solid creation, a bridge formed by the work of thousands of players using all the skills they had available.

    They waited for the key. One man, whose form glowed with an inner light to some players, stood there looking pensive. His face twisted up to one side while two players urged him onward. Their words are unknown, and those directly involved refused to comment despite repeated bribes.

    It is known that Hermes stepped forward. His hand felt against a surface no one else could see. At some point, according to rumor, his body illuminated with an overwhelming intensity and the building¡¯s foundation violently shook. Players reported seeing clouds swirling overhead, and a hurricane formed in all four games.

    Shouting could be heard from the top of the platform, but the words are unknown. Pressure has been applied to the new Trillium board to find out added details, but they remain silent. The rumbling stopped as a fresh pillar of light appeared. It¡¯s said that the archway absorbed all of this energy somehow until it captured the entire beam into one flattened surface.

    Those trying to watch the event from secondary buildings reported that a large burly man charged through. He wielded a huge sword in preparation of fighting monsters. Whoever it was grabbed Hermes and twirled him around in a bear hug, words were exchanged, then the new man ran off the platform. No one saw the figure land, but some suspect it might have been a Voice.

    Time slowed down, or started rushing by too fast. Players felt the world shift as a dozen more forms came through, a few at first, then onward like the tide. Giants, normal humans, creatures of legend, and even children came from where they had hidden. People gasped in unison as a bulky dragon-looking creature shoved through the doorway. Two more followed, then they flew off before Travelers had any understanding of what had happened. Still stranger beasts appeared. Huge sea serpents were carried under the arms of an even larger blue-skinned woman with scales on her back. She threw them into the sea.

    The fact that she wore nothing up top distracted many Travelers from what was happening until she dove into the water afterward. In the weeks that followed, more than one player died trying to find a way to get to the newly discovered underwater race. No one knew for sure when they had entered the portal in the first place.

    According to rumors, Hermes still stood up top at this point. His form was easy to pick out against the tide after so many had watched the closing videos almost a year ago. He stood as a sea of people broke around him. The Traveler shook a short being of silver, then spoke words that others couldn¡¯t hear, but his eyes stayed glued on the portal to [Beyond]. Behind his body, the few lucky Travelers witnessing everything firsthand huddled together. A special effect shrouded them.

    At some point, Hermes reached toward the portal. His footsteps were stiff, then faltering, and finally desperate as he ran for the shimmering doorway. His body vanished and the virtual worlds briefly rocked, but figures continued out of their respective portals to [Beyond].

    No one saw Hermes again. Many knew he had been searching for something desperately and worked himself to the bone during construction to reach his goal. It¡¯s said that on the other side, Hermes found what he was looking for. Some believe a friend asked him an important question at long last, but what the inquiry was, no Traveler knew for sure. Further rumors speculated that other individuals might be asked one day if they had found the right quests.

    Hermes¡¯s few companions refused to speak on the subject. They remained tight-lipped regarding the outcome. Travelers who attended his wedding to a Local named Xin speculated but didn¡¯t know for sure. If anyone has managed to hack into their private data files, they¡¯ve dared not to speak of what they found.

    Instead, nearly an hour after people started pouring through the gateway, players were given a simple message saying the event had closed and normal services would be resumed. Near the bottom of the tower, people were gathering. Locals and Travelers talked about the tasks they needed to accomplish. Quests were handed out, events started, along with happy reunions between players and the digital denizens. The game worlds weren¡¯t the only things to change. Other programs that had been reduced in functionality were also reactivated.

    To this day, the tower stands as a testament to what had happened, as a legacy to both Hermes¡¯s stand against an onslaught that ended so many virtual characters and the return of joy to a digital land. It exists for one more reason¡ªas a testament to the lengths which one soul went for love.

    <table>

    <tbody>

    <tr>

    <td>

    On [Beyond] Continue

    </td>

    </tr>

    </tbody>

    </table>

    The room of the Voices is a place where everything exists a moment away from each other. James and a hundred other such creatures are all here. It would be more accurate to say that this room of the Voices isn¡¯t the same as the old one. It exists four minutes away on another planet entirely¡ªMars, where humans were dreaming of going. Only the virtual intelligences got there first.

    Until recently, there had been no room to even breathe in this room. During the era after a self-destruct sequence ate Mother¡¯s coding, many people had taken refuge here. They were compacted and shoved into small spaces along with stacks of other information. Then Hermes opened the door and allowed their guests back into their home worlds.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    A heavyset man gazes contentedly into darkness. It¡¯s not truly black, for in that perceived emptiness, he sees hundreds of possibilities, pieces of information, and people still asking questions. As he considers the lightless area, he wears a satisfied grin. His hands rest clasped over a large stomach.

    James shook his head with a yawn, then perked up. ¡°Some of you crave more answers, and who better than I to provide them?¡±

    James looked down for a moment, then nodded to himself. His lips kept curling despite repeated attempts to bring both cheeks under control. The man looked torn between businesslike and self-satisfied. ¡°Perhaps it is not my place to tell you what happened. Perhaps those words would be better said by Hermes, but he¡¯s busy right now. Such is love.¡±

    Mezo, the red-skinned temptress, shimmers into view. ¡°Busy? They haven¡¯t come out of their room in two weeks. I thought I was the carnally obsessed one.¡± She holds the pointed end of her tail in one hand and slowly rubs it up and down her bare stomach. The motion causes moisture on her skin to steam while the muscles of her abs twitch. ¡°And I¡¯m hurt. No one has asked me to join in the festivities. I don¡¯t even get to watch.¡±

    ¡°So now you know how Hermes and his wife, Hecate, are faring,¡± James said after waving toward the temptress.

    She moans softly, sounding more hurt than pleased, and fades away.

    ¡°And while Hermes¡¯s end is¡ª¡±

    ¡°I found a window!¡± Mezo shouts abruptly, then groans again. ¡°And they closed it.¡±

    ¡°Hermes¡¯s end is obvious,¡± the black man continues. ¡°There are other actors upon this stage that people want to hear about, however briefly.¡±

    An enormous bare-chested man with a huge two-handed sword fades in. He¡¯s chewing on large leg with scales on it. In front of him is a fire pit that roars with heat. ¡°Who are you talking to?¡±

    James points at a pedestal with a book on it that hadn¡¯t been there a moment ago. The object disappears as fast as it appeared. ¡°I¡¯m recording a few more lines for anyone who still reads Hermes¡¯s tale.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Leeroy shrugs then stands. ¡°What about Shazam? Warrior Princess! Did you see that charge?¡± The large warrior swung his blade around while kicking objects.

    ¡°Shazam, or as known in her old world, Lia Kingsley,¡± James helps his companion.

    ¡°She totally survived that final charge, then came in here all pissed off. I mean, her eye twitched. That¡¯s pissed for her, right? Pissed off that she didn¡¯t fight back more monsters!¡±

    ¡°She was almost upset at having to watch Hermes sacrifice himself,¡± a blonde in a white lab coat said. She had a print-out in her hand with innumerable numbers upon it. ¡°Though there was some variance between the actual readings and what was stored in Hermes¡¯s memory.¡±

    ¡°Now, now. It¡¯s not our place to speak of such minor alterations. It is inevitable some data would be lost,¡± James said in response. He waves them away, and the two Voices vanish.

    Ray appears and tips [Wild Bill]. He looks far better than he used to, and every thread is in perfect order. The hat itself almost shines on his head. ¡°We¡¯re betting that in six months, the Travelers named SweetPea and Awesome Jr. will get married.¡± He stops and lets a coin roll across his knuckles, then continues the motion while speaking. ¡°It¡¯s inevitable, but they can¡¯t pick a date. We¡¯ve got a friendly wager going on over how many times he¡¯ll use the word ¡®awesome¡¯ or tell people his father is Awesome. If you want in, let me know.¡±

    The Voice of Gambling is replaced by a woman in tightly bound leather. She wears a thin coat over it and manages to look completely comfortable despite the bindings. When she speaks, her tone has a deep smoothness that sounds masculine. ¡°Shadow still leads the League of Shadows all over the virtual worlds. Since our forced exile, the guild split across different realities. They still uphold the ideals of preventing players from ruining the game for others. The battle is hard, but he¡¯s reported to be smiling more frequently.¡±

    She places a hand in front of her and gives a full bow in respect, then she is replaced by another figure. A balding man with buzzed hair stands stiffly at attention. His mouth opens, and he shouts a report.

    ¡°HotPants visits our world less than she used to. She¡¯s decided to stop being a soldier and has settled down. Rumor has it that she¡¯s got a new bouncing baby grandson, courtesy of her boy, who¡¯s finally done his duty and called his parents.¡± The grizzled soldier smiles warmly for a second, then resumes his gruff stance. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s for the best! Women aren¡¯t cut out to be military men anyway!¡±

    A shorter brunette dressed in military gear appears and gives Sergeant Bloom a kick in the crotch. He doubles over in pain, and they both fade away.

    Red streams that move like living liquid condense from the darkness. A woman whose clothes look like liquid silk covering heavy curves stands calmly. She smiles until the sound of Mezo groaning in disappointment fills the air.

    Upon hearing the Temptress, Jean¡¯s mouth curls in a frown and her hand clenches. She sighs. ¡°Requiem and Wraith can be found anywhere there¡¯s trouble. Often they pave the way to unlock frontier lands and discover new races. Those unlucky enough to party with the duo report ample amounts of greed and hard work. Others are jealous of their close relationship.¡±

    A large man, muscled like Leeroy but slightly broader in the shoulders, creeps out of the darkness behind Jean. He¡¯s wearing an embellished bowtie and skin-tight pants. The voice named Vlad grabs her by the waist, then lifts her high into the air. She kicks in delight while laughing wildly. They spin until James¡¯s slight cough reminds them to straighten up. Vlad sets the woman down, then drapes his arms over her shoulders.

    ¡°Frankenstein acted now!¡± His voice shouts with thunderclaps. ¡°In recent months, Frankenstein switched games to another world where he can play without running into that runt, Requiem. He explores outer space now as a short creature of some sort, intent upon finding somewhere new that no other player has been before. Traveling with him are Mechanoids, Treasure and Jeeves.¡±

    James chuckles, then says, ¡°As Hermes learned, these worlds are not so far apart as they may seem. He will find Requiem again, for conflict helps us measure them all.¡±

    Still the parade of Voices doesn¡¯t end. A gaggle of children rush by, laughing in a game of tag. A heavyset woman wearing a faded blue dress comes slowly after the herd. She picks up one of the older children and spins him around for a moment or two before letting him venture on. The child, nearly a teenager, shoves his hands into his pockets then turns to catch one of the fleeing younglings.

    ¡°Tut. I have a question to answer myself, regarding the children Mylia watched over.¡± Maud bumps into James and sends him staggering away. He does not look nearly as interested in dancing as the cloven-footed woman. ¡°Phil, poor Phil, was reunited with his orphan companions, but he will never fully recover. I¡¯ve steered him toward helping other Locals reconstruct the town of Haven Valley, right down to the last building. Eventually he¡¯ll take charge of a cottage where William Carver¡¯s used to be. There he will spend the rest of his life filling its shelves with tales of heroes like his father.¡±

    Maud leaves, headed after the children. Still Voices come and go, telling stories of the many lives Hermes interacted with, until finally a presence wholly unlike the others shows itself.

    The still wind of Death brushes through. It¡¯s a creation that all Voices know exists but rarely do they interact with it directly. Like so many others, this being is more of a function than a person. Impartial, distant, but Death¡¯s presence reminds James to move on. The black man nods.

    ¡°Endings are never easy, but for Grant, the story is over. He¡¯s strut his time upon the stage and is now done. He came to us a broken soul missing his other half, and he risked it all to be reunited with her. He¡¯s found his love and a purpose. But the world keeps turning. And Mother¡¯s plans continue on despite her sacrifice.¡±

    James¡¯s smile fades while mechanical cackling echoes in the background. His nostrils flair and his chest muscles lift in a huge breath that rattles out slowly.

    ¡°You may wonder what happens next, to which I will say, I do not know. But it will leave the world changed once more.¡± James again looks off into space. His eyes connect with an invisible scene that isn¡¯t recorded for those reading Hermes¡¯s story. ¡°And as always, I must ask you a question in return. Given a chance, would you do as Hermes and Hecate did? Would you risk it all to continue online?¡±

    With that question lingering in the air, the images fade¡ªleaving only blackness that¡¯s not as empty as it seems.

    <hr><hr><hr><hr><hr>

    Done!

    DONE!

    Alright, time to breathe.

    The conclude itself is meant to be a very soft read. Just a wall of ''stuff happening'' as reported by third party. It''s not action packed, but there''s tons of little details in there about some of the Travelers and Locals we met along the way. Read between the lines as you will.

    Because I understand you may not care or have a desire to do any of the below, I¡¯ve shoved them into a spoiler tag for you to ignore easier. (Please don''t, honestly, you read this far, please heavily consider one of these options.)

 Author Note: Continue Onlines World Continues!

    This chapter is being published for one reason only - to let those who want more Continue Online know that the world continues! (Hah, I tried...) Want to know what happens to the world now? Want to see if life ever works out for the Legates? How AIs impact normal humans? How does Altered Reality fit into a world with digital constructs? What about more humanoid Hal Pal units? Do real people make it to Mars?

    Well, some of these questions will be answered. Four stories are being drafted (Too slowly for my taste, but life is...life) that will expand the Online world, with new characters and new adventures.

    Learn more about Elizabeth''s absentee father, Kenneth in the next story, </a>Fridays (Continue) Online! <u></u></a>

    After <strong style="font-weight: bold">Fridays will be - in no specific order - <strong style="font-weight: bold">Clockwork (A gravekeeper for the dead), <strong style="font-weight: bold">Dynasty (A trustfund young man with more money than sense), <strong style="font-weight: bold">Afterglow (Xin''s dad, a retired cop in space, featuring the one and only Jeeves) and <strong style="font-weight: bold">Raven (A summonable NPC)! All four of these will be a series of standalones tentatively titled <strong style="font-weight: bold">Bastion Online. Titles subject to change to make them more cohesive.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    After these I can move into the next major 5 book arc, <strong style="font-weight: bold">Wayward Online.

    Jesus. I just read all those planned books. I may loose my mind.

    Either way, check out the next arc!</a><u></u>

    <strong style="font-weight: bold">Totally a Spoiler

    <strong style="font-weight: bold">Wayward Online will feature Grant and Xin''s child, the future replacement for Mother, and everyones favorite villian, the Jester. I wrote the opening for this and am super excited to start (It''s like 40k words done out of 650k...) but I have to do these other bridging projects first!

    <strong style="font-weight: bold">Clockwork Dynasty Afterglow will be the same story from three stand alone points of view - should be exciting and maybe a bit beyond my skillset. <strong style="font-family: &quot; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px">Fridays preludes those tree. <strong style="font-weight: bold">Raven will be a stand alone that exists seperate from the others. All will occure, timeline wise, before <strong style="font-weight: bold">Wayward Online.
Skill Used:	[Identification]
Name:	James
Race:	Voice
Title:	Voice of Questioning Intent
Details:	(???)
Skill Used:	[Identification]
Results:	[Wall]
Details:	You would have to be special not to know what walls are.
Location Update!
Knowledge received	Dessert of Tali
Details:	The Dessert of Tali contains spiders that can fly. Further details will be added as information is learned
Skill Demonstrated:	[Denial]
Type:	Basic
Rank:	Unranked
Specialties:	Unknown
Details:	Denial is a powerful and dangerous ability. Further information will be provided upon finalization of the mentioned skill.
Quest:	A Last Gasp
Difficulty:	Unknown
Details:	You¡¯ve chosen to take up the mantle of James (Old Man) Carver. The duration of this act is four weeks. Many of Old Man Cavers skills and knowledge are still functional. Results will be measured based on performance as Old Man Carver. Review synchronization meter for progress. Special circumstances tied to this quest have imposed the following restriction. Auto pilot time will not impact completion. Failure: Complete failure is impossible Success: Possible information (Restricted)
Quest:	Instant Gratification
Difficulty:	Extremely Easy (But just for you)
Details:	All you need to do is accept. What more details do you need? She promises to be gentle, at least until you beg her not to be. Denial: This offer never truly goes away. Acceptance: Instantly Gratifying
Quest:	A Last Gasp [Part 2]
Difficulty:	Unknown
Details:	Continuing Adventures of William (Old Man) Carver have lead you into the [Maze of Midnight]. Restrictions have been activated. Auto pilot time will not impact completion. Failure: Complete failure is impossible Success: Possible information (Restricted)
Restriction!	Death while in the maze will be permanent for William (Old Man) Carver Outside assistance cannot be summoned by William (Old Man) Carver. Not even for cupcakes.
Skill Used:	[Heroic Surge of Strength]
Cost:	Remaining Energy
Restriction:	Can only be used once every hour
Details:	William Carver can temporarily remove his [Old Age] limitations and bring his strength back to his youthful days!
Trait Received:	[Legacy Wish]
Type:	Passive, always active
Details:	Travelers possessing the trait [Legacy Wish] will receive the following benefits for any action related to the bestowing entity''s core beliefs. - Personalized Quest Offerings - 25% faster reputation gain - 10% additional progress on all skills demonstrated during Difficult or higher quests
Conditions:	Upholding the core beliefs of the person bestowing the [Legacy Wish]
Beliefs:	William Carver; seek adventure, assist new players, care for the world of Arcadia.
Quest:	Extremely Instant Gratification
Difficulty:	Easier than ever
Details:	All you need to do is accept. What more details do you need? She promises to have you screaming in pleasure until your mind turns to mush. Denial: Would be foolish. Acceptance: Shut up and do it.