by David Petrie
Alastair took over. "Okay, listen up, people! It's all hands on deck. We're gonna finish this." He plopped down in his chair and pointed toward the storm. "Take us in."
The bridge sprang to life, and the ship leaned to one side as it turned into the wind, turbulence growing as it approached the edge of the swirling hurricane. The crew looked nervous. They probably hadn't tested what would happen to an airship in such extreme weather conditions. The craft did have a damage gauge after all, which meant that it could technically be destroyed. A loud pop came from the side of the room, and all heads turned in its direction, where Max found Ginger tying herself down with a line that she'd fired at the floor.
Alastair gave her a judgmental look. "Would you not put holes in my ship?"
"What?" She held out her hand to the room. "There are no seat belts."
He tilted his head to the side, letting the gesture turn into a nod. Then he shifted in his seat to grip the armrests better. It was probably a good idea. Corvin and Kegan both grabbed onto the handrails near the door, while Kira took her place at the center rail in front of Alastair. Max stepped next to her, Farn joining him as well to bracket the fairy on either side. Alastair ignored the fact that they blocked his view.
Their caution proved necessary as a bolt of lightning hit the ship, and it lurched in one direction, dropping enough to throw everyone off balance. The main navigation team clung to their consoles and the uniformed helms-woman at the wheel struggled to stay standing. She let out a nervous laugh as she regained her stance. Max could see a bead of sweat run down one of her curled horns.
The Nostromo pushed forward, groaning in protest as its engines fought for momentum. Its design probably hadn't been created with the current situation in mind, which made the ship nearly impossible to handle. The wind hit hard, and the helms-woman looked terrified as she fought to keep the ship going in a straight line. The moonlight disappeared as the clouds surrounded them in a blanket of black-gray gloom. Violent thunder cracked while lightning lit up the sky in bright bursts all around them. The storm scorched the ship on all sides as it tossed the vessel about like a toy.
Kira clung to the rail with both hands; her head ducked as if it would somehow help the craft’s progress. Max found a better grip as well, his arm crossing Farn's behind the fairy's back in unison to grip the bar at her sides. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her, not when they were so close.
"Down forty percent damage," one of the flight crew announced.
"We've lost an engine!" called another.
Windows blew in and shattered glass covered the floor, sparkling like stars with each flash of lightning. The Nostromo pitched from left to right, its engines proving no match for the changing air currents. The water below roared as it swirled along with the storm, joining the deafening cacophony of broken glass, rain, and wind. Then it faded. The gusts died, and the ship stabilized, still leaning to one side.
Max blew out a long-held sigh of relief. They had made it, the ship limping into the eye of the hurricane on its last legs. Glass crunched underfoot as the crew began to move about the cabin once again.
"Everybody alive?" Alastair stood from his chair and scanned the room. "Nobody fell out, right?"
Max glanced around the bridge to make sure no one was missing. He couldn't really tell. It wasn't like they had taken a head count before going in. At least, his team was all accounted for. He pried his hands off the railing and stepped toward the door. Farn held a moment longer before releasing Kira from her protection.
Max led the party out into the destruction that was once the ship's upper deck. Boards were torn from its surface and dark scorch marks littered what remained. A section of rail had been completely lost, as were several equipment crates. Behind them, an entire hatch was missing, somehow ripped away by the wind. He glanced at his mission clock, only an hour thirty left. He gritted his teeth, then walked to the side to look down over the edge where he blurted out a sudden, "Holy crap," impressed by the magnitude of what lay below. The others came to see as well, each gasping as they did.
The ocean fell away into an immense vortex of swirling water, a deep hole at its center. The sea spray made it impossible to see far, but a crimson glow illuminated it from underneath, pulsing like it was alive.
Max trembled. "What is it?"
To his surprise, Alastair had an answer, exhaling the words, "It's the Sphere." Then he whispered, "My god, Neal has it running somewhere."
"What's the Sphere?" Max demonstrated that he hadn’t been paying attention earlier.
"It's a testing platform," Corvin answered, demonstrating that he, of course, had been.
Alastair placed a hand on the rail. "I recognize that red light. It's the default color of the sky there. It was the first thing Neal showed me when he created it. I always found it unsettling. I tried to get him to change the color, but he never got around to it. Or he just didn't care to. Either way, it's not something I could forget."
"What's it like in there?" Max questioned, trying to find out more about what might be waiting for them inside.
"No way to know," Alastair held his free hand, palm up, offering nothing helpful. "It's a temporary environment used for testing. It's not part of the system. There are no set rules there."
Max furrowed his brow. "So if we go through, we won't be in the game anymore?"
"Exactly." Alastair snapped his fingers and pointed at him without taking his eyes off the portal below. "When I said there are no rules there, I meant it. We always used it under careful monitoring."
Max swallowed. "Meaning that Carver could do anything to us in there."
Alastair nodded. "And there would be nothing you could do to stop him. He could use your own minds against you if he wanted. It could be a nightmare."
"Literally," Kira added the obligatory descriptive, getting a groan from everyone else.
Alastair looked to each of the party's members. "Still want to go?"
Max appreciated being given the option to back out, but he knew none of them would take it. Hell, if anything, they looked more determined than ever as they all nodded in unison.
"Alright then." Alastair clapped his hands. "Don't worry too much. Neal is a jerk, but he's not evil. So I can't imagine him doing anything too horrible in there."
Kira dangled her arms over the rail. "At least we have that going for us."
Max leaned further over beside her for a better view of the pulsating portal, its glow feeling like the heartbeat of Noctem itself. "So how do we get down there? I'm guessing this thing isn't gonna make it through." He gestured to the airship.
Alastair looked back at the bridge as the ship listed to one side. "I'm kind of wishing that we didn't get our transport shuttles shot down earlier."
Kira swiped open her spell-craft menu, then closed it again. "We have Flight available."
Max grimaced. "I guess that means we fly."
"Well, that settles it." Alastair slapped one hand against Max's back. "We'll try to get you as close as possible." He turned and headed back to the bridge to give the order.
Max didn't envy the helms-woman for having to lower the airship into the maw of the swirling vortex. With an engine down, it couldn't be easy to keep the craft away from the sides. It had to be like playing a game of Operation while drunk.
The horizon disappeared as they sunk below the ocean's surface where red streaks of light revolved around them as if pulling them closer. It was terrifying but also beautiful. The deafening white noise of the surrounding water drowned out the sound of the ship's engines, forcing everyone to shout over its volume.
Despite the pressure and fear, Max found himself smiling as an energy filled the air, transferring to the rest of his team standing on deck.
Kira leaned over the rail, her mouth open in an excited smile, her eyes sparkling. She laughed as the wind blew through her silver hair.
The ship slowed its descent to a stop, signaling that the moment had come. Max made his way to th
e damaged section of rail where it had been torn away by the storm, leaving them an ideal diving platform.
Alastair returned to the deck from his place on the bridge, most of the crew following behind to send them off. He didn't give another speech or further words of encouragement. He would have had to shout it over the sound of the water anyway. Instead, he just placed one hand across his chest and bowed.
Max returned the motion and signaled to the others to do the same. Kira curtsied, getting a few smiles from the other side. Somehow, it all felt right, giving thanks to the crew that had supported them throughout the night, like a proper good-bye.
Max turned to the edge with Kira joining him, placing one hand on the end of a broken section of rail as she stepped toward the abyss.
"So this is it," she said matter-of-factly.
"Yeah," Max agreed.
"Final dungeon," she continued.
"And?" he asked.
"Point of no return."
"Your point?"
"Anybody need to buy some last-minute items?"
"No," Max answered.
"Anyone want to play a mini-game one last time before we go?"
"NO!" the others answered in unison.
She brushed away the thought with one hand. "Okay, just felt like I should ask. You know, for tradition."
Corvin laughed.
Max rolled his eyes. "Okay then, magic us up and let's get going." He looked over his shoulder at the crew who were still watching them. It was clear that they had not expected to be standing there that long. "Oh god, they're all still watching us. Now it's awkward."
Kira smirked as she snapped open a caster, the glowing glyphs of her menu sliding into place as she brushed her hand against them, adding the glyph that selected the whole party. The spell activated, giving her friends a full two minutes of Flight. She stepped back to the edge. "As much as I hate to admit it, this has been one hell of a quest."
Max got ready to jump. "If it wasn't for the whole apocalypse thing, I would've loved it."
She smiled over her shoulder at him. "Let's end this right."
"Yeah, this is a game after all, so let's play it." Max held up one wrist.
She tapped the back of her hand against his without saying anything more.
Max glanced back at the others. "Okay, we have less than two minutes before the spell wears off, so stay close and move fast."
They nodded as one. Then, without hesitation, they dove into the unknown.
Max straightened his body to pick up speed and clenched his right hand to push the Flight spell to its limit. The others followed his lead with Kira darting between. Flashes of red illuminated their faces as they streaked downward. Together, voices shouted into the void, some of them calling out Carver himself. They were coming, and there was no stopping them.
The roar of water drowned out the others’ words as the sea spray swirled around Max's body, soaking him through. He pushed through it into the flares of energy at the bottom of the ocean. Light and dark somehow consumed him all at once, and silence filled his ears, louder than anything that he had ever heard as the world turned inside out.
His head pounded with pressure as the details around him blurred. He scanned his surroundings for the team, finding brief glimpses of his friends before losing track of them. The crimson light hit his eyes so bright it blinded him. Then, just as quickly, the void consumed him as darkness swirled around him. His wet skin felt cold, so cold it burned. Unable to make out anything more than shapes and colors, he searched for the light of Kira's wings. He thought he saw something, but it blinked out before he could get close. He glanced at his party's stats on his sleeve. Everyone's health was full, and there was still a minute left on the Flight spell. Then the numbers scrambled, his party's names fading from his skin as the digital ink crashed altogether. The magic that kept him airborne failed along with it.
Waves of energy pulsed past him, throwing him into a spiral. Up was down, left was right. It didn't matter; he had no idea anymore. Something brushed up against him in the confusion, and he almost drew one of his guns on reflex. He probed the blurring darkness with his hand, catching hold of something solid. It clasped his wrist. A brief flash of light showed Farn, her mouth forming words that he couldn't make out. He matched her grip, closing his fingers around her wrist to anchor them together. He fought to communicate but couldn't push his words through the roaring silence of the abyss. Another wave of energy hit hard, loosening his grip. Then another. Her hand slipped away, his arm reaching out, her fingertips touching his just before another wave crashed into them. Then she was gone, swallowed by the void. Everything faded.
Back in the real world, thousands of miles away from where their bodies lay in their rigs, a server in a nondescript building, in an almost random city, hummed to life. It ran its one and only file. Seven users logged in.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
"What the crap?" Max said as he came to.
A light but overcast sky filled his view as he lay flat on his back on an uncomfortably hard surface. He squinted for a moment to let his eyes adjust before pushing himself up with his hands, the feeling of coarse pavement against his palms. He cocked his head to one side, looking at the ground as his vision came back into focus. A white painted stripe ran parallel to his leg. He followed it with his eyes to its end near a steel pole embedded in the pavement. The familiar shape of a basketball hoop at its top.
"What the crap?" he said again, more confused than ever.
He glanced to his wrist, but the overlay of stylized flames was nowhere to be seen. He reached into his pouch for his journal, flipping it open to a random page. It was blank. He flipped further, and so was the rest. "I guess that means no logout," he said out loud, not so much to himself but more to fill the silence of the empty basketball court that he now sat in. The realization of what it meant to lose the option to escape sent a chill down his spine, and he sympathized with Kira, who had already been in the same situation for hours.
He got to his feet and closed his eyes for a second, listening and standing statue still. He drew his guns with the same practiced speed that he always did, aiming in opposite directions while he scanned the area to get the lay of the land. The court was surrounded by a forest of towering trees that he didn't recognize, each almost as wide as a car. To the side sat a small, rusted jungle gym, complete with monkey bars and a swing set. The view of the trees, towering overhead, gave him vertigo as the overlapping trunks made it impossible for him to see anything beyond them. He pulled his vision back to the basketball hoop in front of him. A well-worn ball rested a few feet away. He shrugged, holstered his pistols, and picked it up.
Max missed the basket for the fifth time. “How am I this bad at this?” He opted to bounce the ball and wander over toward the playground. He tucked it under his arm as he stepped onto the mulched area that surrounded the swings. Aside from the play equipment, there was nothing else to give him any clue of where he was. He assumed he was somewhere in the Sphere, but as to why it looked like a playground or where the rest of his team was, he had no idea. “Well, I assumed that we’ve been split up for a reason." He hoped his friends were okay. “How long have I been here?” It had felt like fifteen minutes, but without his stat-sleeve, he had no way to be sure. It would've been nice if he could have figured a way out of the purgatory that he seemed to have been dropped in, but that kind of problem-solving was more Kira’s or Corvin's wheelhouse. Mostly, he just shot things.
He placed the basketball on the ground to explore the area. He rode a merry-go-round, swung on the swings, and climbed on the monkey bars. He also attempted to use a teeter-totter, but that didn't go so well as he was alone, and it took two people. He must have looked foolish sitting on the low end as it rested on the ground. "Well, this is depressing." For a moment, he wondered how far he could launch Spalding - if he placed him on one end and jumped on the other from the monkey bars. Spalding was now what he was calling his basketball-shaped friend.
> Max then raised his voice an octave to mimic Kira as if she had been by his side. “Spalding is an entirely uncreative name for a basketball.”
He frowned to himself. “How about Jasper?”
Imaginary Kira was satisfied with that.
He wished she was there.
"Any ideas?" Max looked to Jasper.
The basketball sat on the ground, useless, as usual.
He turned away from the ball. "Why am I here?"
The place was unrecognizable to him, but there was something about it, something that he just couldn't put his finger on. He wasn't sure why, but it did feel connected to him in some way.
"There has to be a reason. Right?"
Jasper ignored him.
"Fine, be like that."
It hadn't been long enough for him to start talking to inanimate objects for real yet. That would take another few hours, at least, hours that he didn't have with a deadline looming over him as imposing as the surrounding trees. He couldn't check, but he knew time was slipping away with each moment that passed.
Then he noticed it.
It was small and unadorned, just a plain wooden structure in the shape of a house. It stood near the edge of the playground, a good distance from everything else. He staggered as memories flooded back, hitting him all at once. How could he have forgotten? His voice slipped out quiet as he realized where he was.
"Oh no."
Ginger sat up with a start in a hospital bed, skittering back against the wall as fluorescent lights buzzed above. She knew exactly where she was. She still had nightmares of the room, or at least she would if she didn't login to Noctem every night. The sterile walls and scratchy sheets reminded her of the worst moment of her life. She had avoided hospitals at all cost ever since. She told herself it wasn't real, that it was just something Carver had told the Sphere to pull from her memory, but it didn't matter. The guilt and grief she’d felt in that moment were real. Nausea swam through her, causing her to keel over onto the bed. She clutched her stomach as she was dragged back to that night so many years ago, the night that she'd killed her daughter.
