Aspirant 2: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Maxx Whittaker

  I want to cheer when Dreadpool shrieks as Havel falls back. An armored boot the size of a car tire steps on his guildmate’s ankle, and Dreadpool’s squeal of fear turns to a scream of agony as his leg pulps like smashed fruit.

  Damn. I almost want to retch. But there’s no time; Havel’s already recovering. A mighty fist releases his shield and he swings inward with surprising speed. Syl’s faster, releasing her grip and falling, but I’m not sure she expected her foe to be able to move so quickly as armored as he is, and as she falls Havel clips her.

  Even a glancing blow is like a hammer from someone like him, and Syl spins away, moaning as something in her shoulder breaks. She tumbles at his feet, arm flopping uselessly at her side. Havel turns to follow, raising a foot to stomp down.

  The entire exchange happens in less than fifteen seconds, but it’s enough. The rest of us are moving, and Havel’s foot never finishes its journey to end Syl’s life. I seize it with my power, gripping it with all of my being as I throw it upward hard enough that he starts to tumble back.

  It’s not enough, but it doesn’t have to be. A hammer blow of flame washes over him with such ferocity that the grass blackens at his feet. I shift my focus, yanking Syl free as Mika continues her onslaught, snarling and molten death pours from her fingers. It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and Havel falls. He lands like a boulder, just missing his guildmate, who’s whimpering and crawling away as Mika’s flames lick his back.

  Astra leaps forward as the fire dies, shifting so quickly that I barely see her go from herself to… Enormous. She doesn’t take a form, just expands to gigantic proportions, a silver behemoth. She raises an arm above her head, and as it comes down her fist expands, doubling in size once, twice; by the time it impacts Havel’s struggling form, it’s as big as he is. Her fist slams into him like an avalanche, smashing him deep into the Earth and churning dirt up in an enormous crater that throws soil into our faces like black hail.

  I dart forward, lifting Syl. She grits her teeth but doesn’t cry out as I cradle her broken arm against my chest. “Shit… You okay?”

  “No… But I am still going to kill him,” she snarls, struggling from my grip. She braces her good hand on my shoulder and staggers forward, pulling me to the crater. Mika stands with Astra, who’s already shrunk back to normal. They stare downward, eyes wide.

  Havel lies in a pile at the base of the hole Astra’s impact created, utterly still. We watch, not quite believing it was that easy. None of us speak; the only sound is Dreadpool, at least ten feet away now, dragging his mangled leg through the grass and whining enough that I want to put him out of his misery so he can respawn.

  Speaking of which… “Is that it?” Mika breathes, hand tight on my forearm.

  “I hit him really, really hard,” Astra says like she doesn’t quite believe what she’s done.

  She’s not lying. Havel’s chest piece is dented inward, and his helmet is ripped half off, revealing a face that’s surprisingly plain. He looks like some random dude I might have worked with at a thousand different jobs; maybe thirty, muscular but not exactly buff. His lower lip is bisected by a scar, probably earned on his way to level 32. His eyes are…

  Open.

  They weren’t a moment before. I open my mouth to warn Astra, the closest to the crater, but it’s too late. An arm like a tree trunk snaps up, closes around her legs, and rips downward like lightning.

  “Astra!” I cry as she screams. Havel’s terrible strength rips her legs clear off, and they liquefy as her torso falls to the dirt before tumbling down into the pit.

  Mika’s arm lights with fire, but I hold her back. “Wait!” I’ve got no idea what her flames would do to Astra; maybe melt her, maybe worse. I don’t want to find out. Instead, I reach out with my power, pulling Astra’s body away before Havel can take her.

  She impacts my arms like a cannonball, and I stumble back. Damn. I need to learn to regulate this shit; I was so busy saving her that I didn’t consider how hard she’d hit. I fall flat on my ass, but I don’t let go.

  “Astra! Are you–”

  “Okay,” she grits. “Set me… Set me down.”

  Mika and Syl flank me as I put her gently in the grass. Her body melts, reforming as herself again, though this time she’s noticeably smaller. It’s bizarre; her proportions and body are normal, but she’s no larger than a child after losing so much matter.

  I don’t know how this all works; why she can quadruple in size to turn into a giant, but if she loses part of herself this is all she can muster. It doesn’t matter; now’s not the time to ask questions.

  Especially because an armored hand reaches upward, slamming down over the edge of the crater like a meteor landing. The rest of Havel follows, and he climbs free of the pit with impossible deftness.

  Why am I surprised? I need to stop being taken aback at how quickly he moves in his massive armor; it’s going to be the death of us. I jump up, reaching out with arms wide to pull the others back.

  Goddamn. This is not going well. It’s the first conflict we’ve faced in Lifestream and we’re getting our asses kicked. Half of Astra’s pooled in the crater and Syl… It’s terrifying to see her almost out for the count. She seems so indestructible.

  But we’re not done yet. “When I give word,” I whisper to Mika, “hit the closest tree at the base. Everything you’ve got.”

  “Sam, what are you thinking?”

  “Timber.”

  Her hands flame on. “Hell yes.”

  Havel finally climbs to his feet. He reaches his hands out, and his shield and club erupt from the dirt to fly into his hands.

  Lovely.

  “I know not what you are,” he grates, “or how new players can be so powerful. I’ve not heard of cheats, but there’s a first time for everything.” He rolls his shoulders and it sounds like two trains colliding. “But this has been a far better test of my mettle than I anticipated.” He raises his club. “Let us continue.”

  Mika moves in front of Syl. “Goddamn, dude,” she says, her earlier fear gone. In fact, she sounds pissed. “Don’t you think you’re taking this RP shit a bit too far?”

  I was thinking the same thing. Doesn’t this dude ever come up for air?

  “What waits for us outside this place?” Havel asks, looking upward. “Fear? Despair? A world bereft of those we love?” He takes a long stride toward us, shield tearing through the dirt like a plow. “This is all we have left. The past is dead.”

  His words hit me like bricks to the face. I haven’t thought much about my mission since Astra’s revelations… I haven’t had time. And truth told… If I think too deep about what I’m supposed to do, my mind shies away like a kicked dog. It’s too much, too fast. I need time to process.

  But Havel, or whatever his real name is, has already given up. The fact sinks deep into my soul, worries its way past my barriers. Is he the only one who feels this way? If humanity’s given up, what chance do I have in this fight? Because I get the feeling that when push comes to shove and we make our move, we’ll need what’s left of the world to back us up.

  Another grinding step squashes my self-doubt. Havel’s only a few steps away. “Now!”

  Mika spins in place, pouring a stream of flame at a tree about ten feet to my left. It’s enormous, one of the biggest that shadow the path. Her power eats through layers of bark and wood instantly, and within seconds the tree starts to topple.

  The wrong way. But that’s where I come in. I reach for it with my power…

  “Enough of that,” Havel snaps.

  I’m not sure what happens. The giant releases his club long enough to flick his hand at me. Something shining like a coin spins at my face and then…

  Nothing. I can’t see. Can’t hear. Can’t even scream.

  I’m not sure how long I lay there writhing. It feels like a lifetime. My body’s rigid, muscles locked like I’ve been tasered. Nothing exists but pain.

  Distantly, I hear Mika scream. Astra cry o
ut. Footsteps, some kind of heavy impact. Something pressing my chest, the sensation dulled by my locked muscles.

  And then, like magic, my vision and hearing clear. Whatever Havel hit me with wears off like water flushing down a drain. The fact that it leaves me feeling like I’ve got a face melting hangover’s still sweet relief after the last few seconds.

  That is, until I realize his foot is sitting on my chest.

  A quick glance upward doesn’t improve things. Mika’s on her side at least twelve feet away, hands extinguished and eyes closed. Syl crouches over her protectively, functioning arm up and claws out. She looks ready to rumble, but so far, that hasn’t helped us much. Astra’s working her way around the battle, trying to reach the crater I think, but that’s not gonna stop this asshole from crushing my chest in a heartbeat when it comes to that.

  “How?” I manage, coughing blood.

  Havel’s mammoth helmet pivots down, and though I can’t see his eyes, I can feel his derision. “Arrogant,” he sighs. “In a world where you’re limited by nothing, where anything is possible, you must be ready for anything.”

  Shit. The Citadel operated with strict rules, unfair as it was. This place doesn’t. I just didn’t realize it fast enough, and now I’m going to die.

  Stupid.

  “When you respawn, we will no longer be enemies.” His foot grinds, and something pops in my chest, smothering my last-ditch grab for my power under a blanket of agony. “Unless, of course, you choose to come find me.” There’s something like anticipation in his voice. Excitement. “If you do, I will be ready.”

  Syl pounces, streaking forward in an iridescent blur. Havel’s shield meets her, moving as fast as she does. There’s a sickening thump and a screech as she bounces off, her claws raking its surface. I can’t see past its length, but I hear her hit the ground and roll.

  And not get up.

  “Please,” I manage. “Won’t… Respawn…”

  “Nonsense.” Another push, another cracked rib. My mind shrieks as my vision darkens. “Why do you continue this–”

  For a moment, I don’t understand why he stops. Or why he suddenly releases the pressure at my chest. There’s a long pause as I clutch my broken ribs, dragging ragged breaths.

  And then I hear it. Something like tearing wind, an implosion of pressure. And a mechanical, modem like screech.

  No. No way.

  I barely manage to crane my neck up, and when I do, I wish I hadn’t.

  The Shepherd. Stepping through a crack in reality at the entrance of the glade, warping into Lifestream. A black blur staining the bright day, draining the light from the world. His midnight blade comes last, pulling through the same portal we fled through like blasphemy made real.

  As his darkness presses into the world, Lifestream tears. The air and earth around his blurred form rip like paper, and lines of what look like code bleed from the air before wisping away into nothingness.

  That can’t be good.

  Burning eyes shift, taking in the world, before settling on me.

  “Preeyyyy…” he hisses.

  “What the hell is that?” At first, I almost don’t recognize Havel’s voice. It’s high, almost girlish now that he’s dropped his gravelly, fake Clint Eastwood rumble. “And what’s it doing to the… the game?”

  “Oh… Now you break character?” I laugh, almost hysterical. Blood pools from my nose and runs into my ear. I struggle to sit, wincing against the sharp pain in my chest. So fucking happy that we’re in another virtual world with real pain.

  But it’s pain I can ignore. I’ve had worse.

  “That’s not a player,” Havel says, turning to face the Shepherd. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing good. And nothing I have time to explain,” I say, stumbling to Syl. Her eyes flutter, and I throw my arm around her middle, hefting her to my shoulder. “We have to go. Right now.”

  “No.” Havel stands like nothing in the world can move him, blocking the path like he did before. Except this time, it’s not us he’s holding back. “You guys go. I’ll hold him off.”

  “You’re letting us go?” Mika croaks, sitting and holding the side of her head. “After all that shit about honor or whatever?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what the hell that is, but this isn’t… Normal. Maybe what you said about not respawning… I don’t understand it, but maybe you weren’t full of shit after all.”

  “You believe us?”

  “I don’t know,” Havel says as he spins his club, crouching. “I’ve never heard of anything like that in Lifestream. First time for everything, like I said.” He chuckles. “And it looks like it drops a fuck ton of XP.”

  I try to laugh, but it hurts too much. “Suit yourself, bud.” I don’t know how the Shepherd followed us, but it doesn’t matter. We have to run. Maybe captain roleplay will hold him off long enough that we can find… Something. A fast travel point, or a river with a boat… Or a goddamned army. “Astra?”

  “Here!” She pipes from the crater, climbing free. Her body’s intact again, and she lopes over to Mika, doubling in size as she goes. She picks up the other woman, princess style, and joins me where I sway with Syl.

  The Shepherd hasn’t moved yet. He watches us, blazing eyes like little stars in the shadow of his face.

  Havel doesn’t wait. He powers toward his new enemy, and for a moment I forget that he kicked the shit out of us moments ago. He looks badass, and I let out a mental cheer as he eats the distance to the Shepherd in half a dozen long steps. It’s like something out of an action movie; the gigantic knight, fearless as he descends on the forces of evil.

  That is, until the Shepherd’s blade whips forward.

  To his credit, Havel’s just as fast. His shield comes up to block the blow…

  And is cut in half.

  Havel stumbles back, and though I still can’t see the man in the armor, his exaggerated movements convey one thing clear as day: surprise.

  “How…” He halts, churning dirt, bracing himself. “What the hell is this thing?”

  “We don’t have time to explain,” Astra calls. “Just run! Come with us!”

  “No,” he says, straightening and dropping the remnant of his shield. “Whatever this is, it’s wrong. It doesn’t belong here.”

  “You’re right. But you can’t beat it,” I say, trudging forward. I don’t know why I do it; moving toward the Shepherd feels stupid as hell. But if I can get this guy on our side, save his life, he could be an amazing teammate in a place where we’ll clearly need them. “Let’s go. Help us escape.”

  The Shepherd watches. He seems almost amused. Unhurried.

  “No, you all go,” Havel says. “Get out of here. I’ll stay, cover your backs. This place is my home, now. My body… I lost most of it when the Threvs attacked. I was a marine, fought when they took Washington,” he says, and the pain in his voice is so sudden, so fucking raw, that I can’t hate him anymore. “I have to protect this world. It’s all I have left.”

  “Havel…”

  “Miguel,” he says, turning to me. He’s twenty steps away, but when he pulls his helmet off and throw it to the ground, I can see the strength in his eyes. “Miguel Rodriguez.” His hand flicks, like before when he stunned me. But this time, something bigger arcs through the sunlight.

  I catch it. It’s a potion in a Diablo style bottle, red like blood and swirling endlessly inside smokey glass. Havel tosses again, and I hastily tuck the bottle into my arm before catching something that looks like a flat, blue stone. It has a rune carved into its surface, some character I don’t recognize. It looks like something out of Skyrim.

  “Healing potion, and teleportation rune,” Havel calls, turning back to the Shepherd. “Mouthful each will get you back to normal. Hold hands and touch the rune’s center. It’ll get you to Acheryx.” He takes his club in both hands, starts toward the Shepherd. “And take Dreadpool, please. He’s a douchebag, but he’s a guildie.”

  I don’t argue, and I don’t
wait. I run from the glade, rejoining Astra where she waits with Mika. Uncorking the potion takes longer than it should with shaking fingers, but I get the lid off and raise it to Syl’s lips.

  She’s conscious enough to understand and takes a long swallow before I lower her to the dirt. Next comes Mika, who drinks gratefully.

  I’m last. One quick drink and…

  Holy shit. I feel like Popeye after he inhales a can of spinach. The potion floods my veins like liquid flame, running through me and into my limbs, and I can feel my pain recede. My injuries repair in an instant and after seconds, I feel like a million bucks.

  “Holy tits,” Mika gasps. “I could get used to that.”

  “Right?” I help her up. “Where’s Dreadpool?”

  “There,” Astra says, pointing to a trembling heap down the lane.

  I’m halfway to him when the screaming starts.

  Behind us. High and shrill, unending.

  Miguel. And whatever the Shepherd’s doing to him…

  Astra turns. “What–”

  “No, we have to go,” I say.

  “He sacrificed his life for us,” Syl says, claws out. “We must–”

  “No!” I repeat. “Remember what you said to me, back when Astra thought she had to stay behind. Don’t let his sacrifice be in vain.”

  Syl growls, but she turns away.

  “Over here!” Mika calls. She’s crouched over Dreadpool, lifting his head. “Dude’s passed out, so you’re gonna have to pour it down his throat.”

  I briefly contemplate leaving the asshole behind. After all, he’ll respawn when this shell dies. But in the end, I pour a mouthful between limp lips. I can’t betray Miguel. Not with his terrible screams still echoing down the lane.

  “What is the Shepherd doing?” I ask, trying to shut out the noise. “Why is he…”

  Astra shakes her head, white faced. “I don’t… I don’t understand. His function is to eliminate aberrations… Eliminate unworthy Aspirants. He does it efficiently. Quickly. But this…”

  “He’s toying with his prey,” Syl finishes. “Torturing.”

  I’m not even thinking about contemplating that tidbit. Not yet.