00101111
I can't stop thinking about what the Level Zeros have found, but I try to bring myself back to the moment I'm experiencing.
“Xen is my best friend,” I say into the screen.
The crowd in the celebration room is staring back at me. A sea of faces hang on my every word. I know the palms of my hands are sweating in the real world, but my avatar looks calm and collected. I hope.
“You might not think that's a big deal, seeing as how I only have one friend, but that's exactly why it's important. There aren't many people who could put up with somebody like me.”
The crowd laughs. They think I'm joking.
“Most people think I'm so self-absorbed that it wouldn't be possible for me to care about anyone else. It takes a special person to look past my exterior. I have an obnoxious inability to interact with anyone. At least using anything other than my awkward social skills. I often indulge in a distanced analyzing of other people. I have idiosyncratic, nuanced behavioral disabilities. I mean, what I'm trying to say is that most of the time I'm a real jerk.”
The crowd isn't laughing anymore. They're shuffling in their seats. Someone clears their throat, making the silence more obvious.
“My point is, Xen has always been able to look past that. He ignores the avatar and sees the person that lies within. For every failure, he sees a success to match it. He tells me that this is what Omniversalism teaches us to do, but that doesn't mean we all do it. It takes someone special, someone like Xen, to excel so highly at being a good person.”
I smile, more to myself than anyone else, because I know I'm almost done. I've almost completed the task. Soon the attention will be off of me and I'll be able to breathe again.
“Luckily for Raev, there isn't anything to look past. She's a beautiful, thoughtful person, and I have no trouble seeing why Xen would choose her to partner with. I'm sure it's just as obvious to everyone gathered here today. So without any trepidation, I'd like to congratulate them both for finding a perfect partner with whom to travel through this life.”
The crowd cheers. It's almost like no one noticed how terrified I was. Or no one cared. Maybe they're as happy that I'm done as I am. I try to remind myself that maybe this moment isn't about me. I was just a momentary distraction from the real spectacle.
Xen and Raev stand up and they share a kiss for all to see. The crowd loves it, their cheers growing louder. I pull my screen to the back of the room, relaxing into the shadows where no one will notice me. The awkward weight lifts from me as the thousand eyes look away. I can breathe.
There is a procession of congratulations. A line of people wait to shake hands with Xen and Raev and offer brief points of partnership advice. Some share humorous anecdotes from the past, others give a simple word that sums up the attractiveness of the ceremony.
I watch from the back of the room, trying to wrap my brain around why anyone would partake in such a strangely choreographed ritual in order to exemplify their relationship for others. I've never felt the need to explain what Cyren means to me. Not even to her. She understands. That's one of the things that's so great about her.
As NPCs pass plates and serving trays full of glowing food and colored drinks around the room, I notice Xen and Raev stand from their throne-like chairs at the head of the room and make their way through the crowd. People stop them to chat and tell Raev how beautiful she looks, but soon enough they smile and wave their hands at my screen.
“Kade!” Xen says through his still-beaming smile, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet, barely able to contain himself.
“Hi,” I say, limply waving my hand at the screen. “Um... congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Raev says. “You did good.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I'm just glad it's over. I hate doing stuff like that.”
Raev chuckles, unsure if I'm joking or not.
Xen clears his throat and says, “Either way, we're glad you're here.”
I reply with a single word: “Cool.”
I wish Cyren was here. She always knows how to fill the gaps in conversations.
Before I can think of anything to say, a hand reaches out from the corner of the screen and grabs Raev's arm. An older woman steps into view, her rigid face looking anything but happy. There's nothing unique about her design, but I can tell she's from an elite line of avatars. It's a very boring, very expensive model for the business-conscious user that doesn't want to make a statement other than: “I can afford to be a conformist.”
“Your mother would like to speak with you.”
Raev runs her hand along the golden chain bound to Xen's heart and says with an authoritative voice, “My partner and I are talking with our friend right now. We'll let you know when we're done.”
The woman squints her eyes and inhales through her nose, holding on to Raev's arm for a long pause before releasing her grip and storming off into the crowd.
“What was that about?”
Raev runs her free hand through the rainbow ribbons on her head, straightening them before releasing them to flow freely over her shoulder. With a deep breath her sarcastic attitude returns.
“That was my mother. The life of the party.”
“Raev's mother isn't exactly thrilled about our partnership,” Xen says, his smile looking weak and forced.
“Oh, that's not true,” Raev says with a sardonic smile. “Our partnership doesn't bother her. It's my choice to join you in DOTgod that really stokes her fire.”
“I take it she isn't religious?” I ask, surprised by my own interest.
It's possible that I'm feeling something akin to empathy for her. I understand the disappointment of a parent when you refuse to follow the path they've laid out for you.
“It's more than her philosophical differences with Omniversalism. She owns InfoLock. It's one of the biggest information insurance companies in NextWorld. Her success provided us with financial security and gave me opportunities that, I can't deny, we're pretty extraordinary. The fact that she was able to get a child license as a single mother should tell you how much influence she can throw around.”
DOTgov looks past a lot of their own rules when you have enough credits.
“But she expected you to take over the family business, not join a religious movement,” I say, filling in the rest of the story from my own experience.
“She's been grooming me for InfoLock since I was a child. She used her money to give me the best of everything, but she also used that same money to control my life.”
The design of Raev's avatar is quite amazing. And expensive. The detail doesn't hide the tension in her face. She clenches her teeth and tightens her jaw.
“She dangles her credits over my head like she's trying to teach a new trick to her pet.”
“So you're saying that joining up with a humble, minimalistic religion wouldn't exactly thrill her?”
Raev laughs boisterously, trying to step away from her own seriousness. “You should have seen my mother's face when I told her that the church pays for the ceremony.” She lifts the back of Xen's hand toward her lips, laying a soft kiss upon it. “But it doesn't matter. None of it. I've found my partner. I've found love. That's all I need.”
They get lost in each other's gaze again, but this time I'm not as disgusted by the display. In fact, I begin to feel something, a connection to what they're experiencing, when the game announcer's booming voice breaks in.
“Group member Devyl has died.”
“Group member Alfa has died.”
“Group member Phaet has died.”
“Group member Newk has died.”
“Group member Saynt has died.”
“Group member Epek has died.”
“Group member Taifoon has died.”
“Group member Dedhed has died.”
I'm forced to turn off the alerts as an emergency voice-cast from Cyren appears in the corner of my view.
I slam my hand on to the icon and hear her voice
shouting over a thunderous roar of gunfire and magic spells.
“I shouldn't be sending you this, I shouldn't be asking you to do this, but we don't have a choice. I need your help.”
I'm standing up from the couch before I'm aware of what's happening. Xen and Raev don't have a chance to react before I'm pulling out my revolvers and checking to see which advanced ammunition I have selected.
“What's going on?” Xen asks. “Is there trouble?”
“Yes,” I say, my hands shaking as I select different options in the menu. “Something is... I don't know...”
“Cyren?” Raev asks.
I nod my head, unable to say the words.
Raev leans in closer to the screen. “Go to her.”
I nod my head again, acknowledging the fact that she understands how dire the situation is.
“Let us know what happens,” Xen manages to say right before I swipe my hand to close the screen.
I throw open the flap and step into an empty camp. The Level Zeros are gone. I open my map and see the cluster of dots that represent my group a few miles away. I climb the side of the hill and open my list of magic items with a single gesture of my hand. I select my default load-out: Anti-Gravity Belt, Boots of Leaping, and Ring of Magic Protection. I use the boots to launch off the rocky cluster at the top of the hill and as I plummet toward the valley below, I activate my Anti-Gravity Belt and land softly on the grass. My feet pound against the soil, pushing me as fast as possible toward my goal. Toward the only thing that matters.
Cyren.
00110000
As I reach the treeline that I ordered my scouts to search, the vegetation manages to block out what is left of the dwindling sunlight. A twisting maze of trails wind through the trees, but as I get closer, I don't need the map to direct me toward Cyren. I just follow the rattle of gunfire and the rumble of explosions. The sounds make my heart beat faster. My hands clench my pistols tighter. I don't want to admit how excited I am, but I can't deny it.
When I reach the scene of the battle, I launch myself from the thick curtain of vines into a clearing. I try to take in my surroundings, but the chaos overwhelms me for a moment. Winged demons explode in the open air as the sniper team fires from the cover of the treeline. Flashes of gun barrels join the blinding lights of various magic spells. Screams of rage from the Level Zeros are followed by screams of pain from the demons they're fighting.
High walls encircle a courtyard, with a single, crooked tower in the middle, rising toward the sky. The ancient temple rests in the center of the clearing, twisted and evil in its architectural complexity. The stone is black with moisture, enwrapped by vines and natural growth trying to cover its shameful existence. Green moss fills every crack, decaying as it reaches toward the top of the tower. A flash of lightning streaks down from the peak, striking a group of Level Zeros advancing toward the front doors. The demons bubble out of large cracks in the ground, like a gelatinous liquid of horrifying crimson flesh. Nothing more than clumps of gnashing teeth and writhing tentacles, they eventually separate into smaller misshapen creatures. Some take to the air, their tiny wings flapping furiously, trying to keep their bodies aloft.
I raise the barrel of my pistol, aiming it at the demon flying in the center of the flock. My eyes squint, my teeth clench, my trigger finger flexes, and with a single gun shot I'm playing the game again.
I pop off a few more rounds and find myself disgusted when the bulbous bodies explode into demonic goo. It's been a long time since I've seen violence in the game. Too long.
I hold down my triggers, using the automatic gunfire upgrade I purchased to wave the streams of bullets through the sky, cutting through more and more of the horrible creatures. I only stop when I see Cyren slamming her foot into the head of one demon while breaking the neck of another. I sprint toward her.
“What is this place?” I shout as I leap over the bodies of the demons piling up around her.
She drops the corpse of another demon and glances up at me. I can't tell what the look on her face means. She's either relieved to see me, or she's more scared now that I'm here.
“There's no end to them,” she yells over the shotgun firing next to us. “They just keep multiplying. We've got to end this before they outnumber us.”
I remember a quest from when I was first playing the game. The quest where I met Fantom. There were aliens that acted the same way. They kept coming, a never-ending source of enemies.
“There's something we need to destroy, an item of some kind,” I shout over the crackle of an ice spell that freezes five demons overhead. They fall to the ground and shatter into pieces. “And whatever we have to destroy is most likely in that temple.”
“That's why I contacted you,” she says as the temple releases a bolt of lighting, striking another group of Level Zeros. “We can't get near that thing without it blasting us. We've got nothing to protect ourselves from lightning magic. But you have-”
“The Mirror Shield,” I say, finishing her sentence.
I swipe my hand in the air to open my inventory of magic items, scrolling through pages and pages until I find the reward I got for killing the Medusa boss in the secret labyrinth underneath the desert. The Mirror Shield appears on my arm, the sun shining off its reflective surface.
I lock my mind back into my gamer thought patterns. “Keep these things occupied. I'll take care of the tower.”
“Nice try,” she says, stepping next to me and punching her fist through the head of a demon swooping down at us. “That shield is big enough to protect both of us, and whatever is inside that temple might require more than one Level 100 player.”
I open my mouth to respond, but she continues: “If you thought I was going to let you run off by yourself-”
“I wouldn't dream of it,” I say with a smile, feeling the nostalgia of having her by my side in battle again.
She leans in, inches from my ear, and whispers, “Let's go to work.”
I want to correct her. I want to remind her that this is fun. I want to remind her that this is a game. We're not going to work. We're going to play. But I know she disagrees. We're here for a reason. These monsters threaten the safety of me, the Level Zeros, and the civilians.
With the other Level Zeros fighting alongside us, we force our way through the torrential rise of demons, battling our way through a wall of mouths and talons and wings. Snipers take down every demon flapping above us in the sky. Heads explode, limbs break free, and the swing of a sword or the crushing blow of a hammer silence the few that land on the ground. My own gunshots join the swarm of bullets and arrows from the ranged team. We lay waste to row after row of the misshapen creatures. The jagged hooks of medieval weaponry tear the bodies asunder, gargantuan clubs splatter them across the courtyard floor, and the razor sharp edges of twirling blades carve the demons into pieces. Elemental magic sparkles and twists through the air, destroying each demon with blocks of ice, walls of fire, spinning tornadoes, and giant boulders. Yet as each demon falls to their doom, another red body emerges from the ground to fill their ranks.
As we near the main entrance to the temple, a cluster of demons erupts from the ground, completely blocking our path. Cyren leaps into action before I can react, becoming a spinning vortex of hard limbs. She shatters bones and launches bodies across the courtyard with her Level 100 strength. Her dance of death is stunning, and I find myself lost in its beauty for a moment. Just long enough for two demons to tackle me to the ground.
00110001
The creature on my chest leans in, hissing into my face. Its silver teeth drip with acidic ooze as its mouth opening wide to devour me. The Mirror Shield is the only thing holding its gaping maw at bay. I turn my face away from the burning saliva that is slowly dropping from the demon's mouth, but I can still hear the clicking of its gnashing teeth.
The other creature has decided to work its way up from the bottom. A tentacle wraps itself around my leg right before rows of razor sharp fangs sink into my thigh.
The teeth hit bone, my knee cap cracks under the power of its jaw, and I find myself wishing the coding of the pain in this game wasn't so real. I try to kick at the demon, but at the difficulty rating of these demons, my melee attacks are harmless.
I chose guns for a reason.
I dislodge one of my pistols from underneath the demon on top of me and shove the barrel into the face that's eating my leg. A quick pull of the trigger and the source of my pain turns into a cloud of red scales.
Trying to hold back the demon on my shield with only one arm proves impossible. As the demon's mouth opens to ravage my entire face, it's thrown from my body, squealing in pain as it flies through the air. I look up and see the content smile of a barbarian shining through his blond hair.
“If I stole that kill from you, I apologize,” he says, offering me his free hand to help me from the ground.
I accept his help and as soon as I get to my feet, I take a shot at a demon swooping overhead. “There will be plenty more kills to be had for the both of us.”
He nods and says, “Aye,” as he clutches his large wooden club with both hands and rushes toward a cluster of demons.
I look out over the heads of everyone on the battlefield. The Level Zeros are holding fast, decimating the demonic forces as quickly as they're birthed from the ground, but we aren't making any headway. It's a violent standstill.
“We aren't getting any closer to the tower entrance,” Cyren shouts over the clash of weaponry all around us. “All we're accomplishing is a steady increase to our kill ratings.”
I take a shot at another demon. Its head explodes and its body topples to the ground. I bring my mind back to a time when I used to command these Level Zeros in battle rather than just pushing them forward into empty territories.
“Arrow formation. Break a line through the battle. You and I will split the middle.”
She holds up a fist in the air, raises two fingers from her fist, and the melee team moves into position. The mass of fighters create a pointed V directly toward the entrance, pushing the demons outward as they advance. Cyren and I charge forward, down the center of the V, toward the point of their formation.
The NextWorld 02: Spawn Point Page 2
