Dissonance

by K. T. Hanna

  “All of the deaths are meant to be as realistic as possible, although we set the pain threshold decidedly lower. It’s supposed to present as a sort of mini movie in front of the eyes in order to give the game consequences other than just experience loss. Death in Somnia is meant to make people think twice about being reckless or stupid in their endeavors, and to think things through.”

  “You literally just said nothing.” Laria’s tone turned cold, as if she didn’t believe him.

  “No, I didn’t. People having to give serious thought to their actions makes them more likely to transfer that thought process into real life. Actions have consequences. People have to think more about what they’re going to do or else they’ll lose experience and begin to pedal backwards. For forward momentum, it’s best to die as little as possible. It’s part of the game’s directive.”

  “Directive?” Shayla piped up, genuine surprise in her voice.

  Rav frowned. Of course, it was part of their directive. It had been from day one. There was no reason for them not to encourage the players to think. Everything about the game encouraged people to think outside of normal game parameters.

  Thra answered while he was still going over his own misgivings in his mind. “The initial directive that shaped who we are and how we’ve developed. You know, make sure the actions of the players reflect more readily who they are in the outside world. The players must learn from their mistakes, by themselves. Actions have consequences.”

  She paused.

  “You know, you could pull them up. You should have them as a sys admin.” Thra frowned as she pulled up more code next to what she already had going, filling their space with algorithms and numbers that floated around with distinct purposes that were not meant for this room.

  “Both of you should have access. Hmm.” She flipped through to something else something else, like a closer look at information. “It seems you have attempted to access this very information about a week ago? You don’t remember this?”

  “What?” Laria sounded shocked. “I know I didn’t.”

  “No, you’re wrong. Your terminal ID was used to attempt access to the files, but your password was incorrect.” Thra’s voice held conviction.

  “James,” muttered Shayla, and Laria grew more agitated than she had been when she first walked in.

  “It’s really nothing super new.” Rav didn’t understand why they were getting worked up. This type of directive was nothing new. AI interfaces and systems had been using something similar for years. “AI must be given directives that include the sanctity of reality, or else even we might go rogue.”

  He laughed at the thought, as did Thra, but Sui simply rolled his eyes and continued his work.

  “Fine. Let’s accept that as fact then and look into it.” Laria didn’t sound very accepting. It was obvious where Mur got her stubbornness.

  “What would AIs do, given this directive, if something within the world threatened that reality-Somnia division?” Shayla spoke this time, her no-nonsense tone cutting like a knife through butter.

  “It would depend on how tied up that something is in both versions of the world.” Thra sounded tired now, but Rav couldn’t quite tell why. Her thought process was inscrutable.

  “Okay, so. If Wren can die in-game and return, what is it that’s keeping her there? What is it that’s preventing her from being able to log out properly?” There was a note of desperation in Laria’s voice, one Rav could totally understand.

  The idea was like a bright light. Not an immediate one, not a flick of a switch, but like something that had been dim on the horizon and someone was turning up the wattage. He frowned, missing what Thra was saying to the two programmers entirely. His idea consumed him. So many what ifs. But maybe...

  “Is your anchor still connected to the game?” he asked abruptly. “As in the simulation of your house, of your lives—is it still connected in default to the exit game command?”

  Laria hesitated. “Yes. But there’s also an option for her to simply log out now. I adjusted it. Just in case.”

  Sorrow clung through those words, but Rav pushed past it, enamored by the glimmer of hope he could see. “The exit option is there, then, but she hasn’t been able to use it. Thanks, I’ll take a look into it.”

  “Well?” Laria practically yelled. “Don’t keep me in suspense, Rav. What aren’t you telling me this time?”

  He hesitated, not wanting to lend false hope to something he really wasn’t sure would work. There were several things he’d have to double check on before he could be sure. Getting Laria’s hopes up seemed cruel and far more like Sui. He opted for a middle ground when he responded.

  “I have to test a few things out to see if I can even formulate a plan. But I’ll email you if I think I have an answer.”

  He could tell Laria wished she could reach through the casing and throttle him. Rav didn’t need mind-reading skills for that.

  After a few seconds silence, she responded like she was grinding the words out in a pepper mill. “Fine.”

  And with that small signal of okay, he shut himself off from hearing the outside, focusing intently on specific coding issues that cropped up whenever Murmur tried to log out. Thra reached out to him, her hand so close the proximity was jarring.

  Rav looked up and smiled even as a wave of sadness threatened to overwhelm him. “I have to check on something. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  And then, in a whirlwind of ideas and hope, he left their server room and headed for the Isle.

  Hortia stood behind Xestia, clutching her hands in her sister’s robes. Her eyes were shadowed, like she’d seen much more than a young locus should, and her skin held scarring where some of the torn off flesh had yet to heal. She limped slightly, her left knee bending awkwardly when she put weight on it, so much that Murmur could see just how the locus joints were different. They had two joints at the knee, like a ball and socket, instead of one. Interesting—and a totally inopportune time to notice it.

  Even with the obvious pain she was in and the terror that rolled off her in waves, there was still fierce determination in the young locus’s face. She was angry deep down inside, and even through her fear and hopelessness, that anger drove the resolve to take back what was hers, to take back what was theirs, and to rescue those of their family that still suffered from this possession.

  Now if only Murmur could figure out what this possession was. It didn’t appear to be demonic, nor did it appear to be a monster. This dungeon had ghouls, banshees, and weird elementals. Not only that, the sisters explicitly mentioned having been cursed, so this whole area had to have something to do with haunting.

  As they crossed the hall and stood in front of the fourth door, Murmur cleared her throat. The rest of the guild stood behind her, their unease and uncertainty clear. Some of them crossed their arms like they were hugging themselves. Beastial petted Shir-Khan absentmindedly, and the rangers held their bows in a death grip. Sinister swished her skirts around her, and Murmur was certain she didn’t even realize it.

  “What can we expect in here?” Murmur asked the question softly, trying not to startle the two locus. “Help us not fuck it up.”

  Xestia offered a half smile, her amusement short-lived. She cocked her head to one side and placed her palm onto the door. The smile faded from her face, her frown taking over. “Our older brother should be in here. Caught at a time that wasn’t kind to him, just before the onset of a war we never lived to see. Believe it or not, these halls were once full of people, open to all. We had elevators that rose up from the ground bringing supplies and people. But the dust tells me a lot of time has passed.”

  Her words faded, and the melancholy in them sprinkled over everyone else. If it weren’t for Murmur’s reinforced Mental Shielding barrier she maintained, every single person in her raid would have decided that the damned fight wasn’t worth it an
d left then and there.

  “What do we need to know about your older brother?” Murmur prodded gently.

  Xestia raised her eyes slightly. “Ah, true. Good idea. He has a command of wind magic. I do not know what spirit possessed him, but if it’s the same as mine and Hortia’s, it will have twisted his mind and he’ll see us as the enemy. It’s sort of the modus operandi of this whole thing.”

  Xestia shrugged and waved her hands, vaguely indicating the whole corridor area around them. Then she shook her head, like she was trying to rattle thoughts loose. “I don’t even know what this is. All I know is that before you came my thoughts were anger and revenge, hateful and convoluted. My memories were my sister’s, my brother’s, and my parents’ all rolled into one. Confusion poisoned me, vendettas misled me, and you didn’t look like you are now through the haze that clouded my eyes.”

  Xestia took a deep breath. “Whatever that thing you cast does, it breaks the spell for enough time that I could see myself, that I could reach Hortia. Please use it as soon as possible on my brother. The more you have, the more you can cast it or something similar, the easier it will be to free him. And we need him, because without him we don’t have a hope in hell of defeating what’s behind the throne room doors.”

  Her face had paled, and she shook ever so slightly, but since Murmur was watching so closely, she noticed it. She reached out with her hand to soothe the girl, trying to lend a sense of calm to her that they were all in this together.

  Thought Sensing (250)

  Thought Shielding (250)

  Thought Projection (250)

  You have reached the next stage of your hidden class. Adjusting and refining your skills is a huge step. For this perspective your skills have leveled enough to allow you to reach level five of Mental Affinity. Please see a trainer at your earliest convenience. You will not be able to increase these stats until you visit a trainer, so make haste; danger is on the horizon. You cannot continue to level six of Mental Affinity until you have reached max level. You are slacking.

  Murmur blinked at the notification swimming across her vision as Xestia visibly relaxed. When had that all happened? She used it constantly, especially since leaving limbo a few days ago, but she didn’t think she’d used it that much.

  Xestia glanced at Murmur and bowed her head slightly. “Thank you. I can think clearer now.”

  Murmur blushed. It was the first time someone had noticed her meddling, but maybe when it really helped someone like now, maybe it wasn’t as dark as it could be. Sure, there was a fine line between helping and hurting someone by influencing their mood or thoughts, but how could it be bad to help someone who truly needed it?

  She turned to focus on the doors as they swung open in front of them, instead of the moralistic argument her mind seemed to want from her.

  The room wasn’t dark, as such—it was bloody. There was no other way to put it. Coagulated blood moved through the room like it was an ocean, waves running in and out of the center, occasionally leaving the feet of the being standing in the middle covered, and other times bare.

  A figure rose out of the floor, sinew and muscle, bone and veins all on display like a skinned, yet living being. Blood flowed down like a fountain feeding the bloody ocean and filling it with its essence.

  The stench finally reached Murmur, and it was all she could do not to gag. Old blood and rotting meat littered the air with a tinge of spicy madness, and she tightened her hold on the shielding that protected her friends.

  The being began to move. Murmur wasn’t sure what to call it or how to identify it. It was difficult to concentrate on anything but the smell, and without her Concentration buff, there was no way she’d be able to see through to the other side. The only thing helping her friends was her own form of Shielding over them.

  Xestia’s eyes watered, but Murmur couldn’t tell if it was from the putrescence or because she was crying. Maybe it was a bit of both of them.

  “Brother?” she managed to croak out.

  Suddenly the figure in the middle of the room opened its eyes. Gaping white surfaces with bloody stars shooting through them in a sea of red and viscera. Its mouth opened wide in a silent scream as all that emanated was a soft whoosh of air. Like he’d been turned inside out, Hortia and Xestia’s brother reached out with broken fingers, grabbing just beside his sisters as if he couldn’t see where they were.

  The blood around them surged, lapping at their legs, gripping onto their shoes. It tried to meld to them, tried to drag them away until Dansyn activated his levitation spell, which brought them just out of its reach.

  Xestia began to speak. “Wartia, hear me. Let me close. I can help you.”

  The waves of blood rose up, threatening to drown her, but a shield held them at bay, and Murmur noticed how Hortia hugged her sister, enveloping her in the motion, and spreading her own protections out to cover them both.

  Wartia didn’t move, but the white eyes blinked tears of sluggish brown away. Like he could hear her but not respond. When he tried to move, the waves flowed in and up, tethering him to the spot even as he attempted to shake them loose.

  Panic seemed to grip him as the waves rose up further and further, and into his mouth, holding it open and choking off the scream Murmur could hear in her head. Silence followed, where she couldn’t sense anything from him anymore.

  Nothing at all.

  And then his eyes opened again and he moved, great shaking steps that made the ground beneath them reverberate. The way his body flowed, the waves still rippling on the surface, felt like he was fighting something off. Wartia paused with each step, but the struggle always ended with him taking another.

  Xestia’s tears were emotional now, since they’d all grown used to the stench until it faded into the background. “Wartia. Please. Remember. Remember what we have to do, remember who we are.”

  Her voice made him move his head as if trying to determine exactly where she stood, and a brief sense of yearning enveloped Murmur. He wanted to see his sisters. He wanted to remember.

  Just as he settled on where she might be and began hesitantly to reach clawed hands toward her, Murmur cast Mind Bolt.

  It struck him with a thud, and a squeal of fury erupted from around him. Faster than her eyes could track, he catapulted into Murmur with such force that it lifted her off her feet, sailing over to the other side of the room to land against the wall, Wartia’s weight pinning her there.

  She coughed and tasted blood in her mouth, even as her head began to spin. He was heavy, pushing against her, not just resting, like he was trying to squeeze the life out of her. Images flashed in front of her eyes, the hole Arita shot through her chest, the limbo, the minds of every NPC and player in the game, all sweeping past her quickly like sand through an hourglass.

  His weight shifted back, and Murmur fell to the ground on her hands and knees, gasping for breath. Vaguely in her peripheral vision, she noticed that Devlish had grown taller, his lacerta arms holding the huge blood and flesh monster at bay, taunting with hatred. But she couldn’t concentrate on that. All she could focus on was her own situation, and the fact that it was difficult to breathe, even after she’d received a full heal from the healers.

  She noticed a debuff sitting in the upper right corner of her HUD and frowned.

  Bloody Bones

  Syphons a consistent two percent of health every five seconds from the target until one of the parties is dead. Cannot be cured. Cannot be removed unless the preconditions are met.

  Shit.

  “Be careful. He has a debuff,” Murmur tried to call out, but her words wouldn’t form properly. Her throat still constricted, and she noticed her health already leaking down again.

  Moving back toward the middle where Devlish had finally dragged the brother, Murmur tried again. “Be careful, he has a non-removable debuff. Bloody Bones.”

  Sinister glan
ced in her direction, casting out another heal. “Good to know.”

  Murmur nodded, and focused on doing her job. They knew to interrupt. Everything would be fine. It had to be. She had to reform her strategy quickly, because all her Mind Bolt had done was enrage the presence that had control of Wartia. Her health still ticked down, and Sin was a bit too busy to constantly heal her. Murmur cast her own shielding on herself and hoped it would suffice for a couple of ticks anyway.

  Mellow sidled up to her, their voice soft. “It needs to be perpetually silenced. I’m not sure why, but this incarnation is more stubborn than the one that possessed the sisters.”

  “Maybe it’s just stronger?” Murmur asked, still trying to regain her focus.

  Mellow shook their head. “No. My quest is telling me that ‘all silence is golden.’ I think that’s its clever way of telling us that we must silence this sibling.”

  “Oh.” Murmur grinned, and cast her Mind Bolt.

  She called out quickly, needing Merlin and Exbo to use their silences in quick succession. “Silence one after another. Don’t let it wear off. This time is different.”

  Wartia writhed in agony, actual sound leaving his throat this time. His tendons and sinew stretched and bent in unnatural ways. Slowly but surely, the blood that had taken over most recently began to leach away. It tumbled down his body like it was cast out by an exorcism.

  Black acrid smoke tinged its edges as it backed away, the hissing sound like a nest of vipers. This was taking far longer than it had for the sisters, and Murmur was glad she’d asked the others to silence it too. Mellow having this quest had been a windfall. While her Mind Bolt could be used again, she had a distinct feeling that this time there’d be diminishing returns and a backlash headache or five.

  Dansyn fired his silence off, which meant if it wasn’t over in the next few seconds, Murmur would have to jump in again. Silencing was different than stunning. Silencing disallowed the caster to continue casting and blocked that magic school from being cast again for the duration of the silence and often beyond. Depending on the particulars of the silence, that is. They were lucky they’d hit forty, even if she couldn’t quite remember when, because their new abilities were desperately necessary in here.