by Harper North
“Sounds good,” Atlas says. “Movies it is.”
I don’t even feel shame at my comment. A few weeks ago, I would have been horrified to say that in front of myself, let alone others. Things have changed.
The ground closes in. No more Golgan Fighters attempt to attack us, despite other Golgan ships in the distance. My Transporter’s log informs me that the computer is searching for a good landing site and has found one.
“We’re on autopilot,” Panda says. “That’s a good sign. Nothing ever attacks once a ship goes into autopilot mode.”
“The code, though,” Atlas says. “It’s supposed to be messed up here.”
“He’s right,” I say. “We don’t know what we’re going to encounter.” I keep my hands on my guns just in case.
Golgoro is a dark planet with just a beam slicing across the sky for light, courtesy of the black hole. Black and green cities cover its barren surface. I don’t spot a single Golgan walking up and down the streets. My log tells me that radiation levels here are high, and that my Electrified Titanium Armor is expending energy to keep me safe.
“Thirty percent taken off of damage reduction,” Atlas reads. “Nice.”
“It’s better than dying from the radiation,” I say.
“I wonder what’s causing it?” Atlas asks with sarcasm. “That settles it. The Golgans are cockroaches. Nothing else could survive all the radiation the black hole must be belching out.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” I say.
I watch as our ships descends onto a landing pad, on top of a skyscraper. Our doors lift and I slide out.
This world is surreal, like a nightmare version of a city at night. The Golgan buildings are all pointed, almost like jagged rocks, and lit entirely in green from the inside. The black stones display pulsing green lines through it, like a disease. The sky above remains black except for the black hole’s powerful beam. We stand under the intense light, unsure of what to do next.
And then my gaze lands on the largest building I’ve ever seen.
“That must be where they worship their death gods,” I say, pointing.
A huge, black citadel looms in the distance. My eyes don’t make the structure out at first. The alien citadel looks like a massive stone crown built in alignment with the unseen black hole’s beam. From our vantage point, it looks as if the black hole’s ray of death is shining out from the citadel.
“Yikes,” Atlas says, slipping his hand into mine.
The citadel wavers for a second, a strange glitch that morphs the structure into a dome, and then quickly back to its jagged crown shape. The code must be wonky here.
And then I spot several ships around the area that look a lot like Panda's. They hover around the building like metal birds with spread wings.
ICC ships. That's all they can be.
And standing underneath them, at the base of the citadel, are the ICC avatars they've sent to infiltrate the incomplete code of this planet. I squint and peer through my 4th Tier Sniper Scope to get a closer look, as they look tiny from here.
“What do you see?” Coco asks.
I train my view on the players they've hired.
Most are indeed normal-looking Humans, Merans, Androids, and Cyborgs decked out in Titanium Armor and, therefore, high level. And then I realize that three of them are not players at all. Two dozen figures mill around the base of the still-glitching structure while the three unusual ones watch. The trio wear pure black armor, gloves, boots, and helmets with opaque visors. I read their usernames out loud.
“Master_Admin679, Master_Admin45, Master . . . this isn't good.”
“Are you kidding me?” Atlas asks. “The ICC sent its Admins in here. How? This isn't even their game.”
“Well,” I say, “we now know why we haven't seen them for a while, and where we need to go.”
CHAPTER 19
“Maybe the original plan is back,” Atlas says.
“Original plan?” I ask, lowering my Scope.
“You know. With The Hermit taking over another Admin and then breaking his way into the ICC.”
“I don’t know. Those Admins look like business,” Panda says.
“Right,” I say to Panda. “But we don’t know how this new universe works yet. The Admins might not have all their power here.”
“Like freezing us and letting us express our love to each other?” Atlas asks.
I roll my eyes. “Who are you? The Hermit?”
“Come on,” Coco says. “So, we didn’t expect Admins to come in. But we should have.”
“2.0 isn’t their game,” Atlas says.
“It is and it isn’t,” Coco says. “2.0 is based off the original Binding, so it’s possible our enemies still have their Admin powers. The DNA encryption may ensure it. At the very least, we’re dealing with high-level players. I’d expect Level 50.”
“How do we get past these guys?” Panda asks.
“I could be of assistance,” The Hermit says. “If these Admins have the same powers as the ones in our original universe, I should be able to fight with mine. I may be able to hack into the ICC itself. Meditating tells me there is much disruption, though I may not be able to sense anything specific until I take an Admin’s form. There is likely a vulnerability here.”
“And,” I say, “the ICC realizes that the Admins are trying to get into the network to pull the plug.” I’m breaking a sweat. Now isn’t the time to let it show. At least I’m wearing gloves.
“But the ICC is vulnerable, too,” Coco says. “They’d have to be, working in a glitch zone.”
“So, do we march in?” Atlas asks.
The ICC ships continue to hover.
And then one of the Golgan Drones descends from the darkness above, green lights flashing. The Drone’s lasers train on a few players below, who open fire on the bug-like device. After a fight, the thing shatters into a thousand smoking pieces. People run to the side to avoid being hit. Then a second Drone descends from the sky to attack the ICC. I raise my Scope and look again, only to find a Master Admin standing there, raising a gloved fist at the device. He trembles in his black armor, as if struggling to summon his power. Within a few blinks, the Drone snaps to rotating ones and zeros before dissolving and rising toward the sky.
“Well, we’re most likely going to die,” I say, lowering my Scope again. “The Admins appear to have their player-destroying powers. The good news? 2.0 is making things hard for our friends. The Golgans will attack us and the ICC.”
“I don’t blame the Golgans,” Atlas says. “Oh. And more great news. We didn’t find a Save Station here on Golgoro.”
The four of us face each other. He’s right. The last Save Station was on the orbiting structure. Dying means respawning in orbit and having to go through—and blow up—Golgan ships again.
“Don’t die,” I say, pointing my finger at Atlas, and then Coco, and finally at Panda. My palms continue to sweat and my heart races, but I keep what I hope is a harsh expression. “Our only chance of breaking the ICC’s control on Earth and Mera is to get down there and use The Hermit. Hermit, are you ready?”
“Holes abound here,” he says. “The AI has not yet filled the glitches, so I am able to see within the code. The Admins’ code will, unlike in the old universe, lead into the ICC’s main system. But it is also possible the Admins can take down the entire world, and us with it, by exploiting one of these holes.”
“Just like the Golgans,” Atlas says. “Why don’t the two groups work together?”
“Good question,” I say with a wink. Tension dispels. “The Hermit will need to touch an Admin to transfer. Right?”
“You will need to touch an Admin, yes,” The Hermit says. “Try to make discreet physical contact.”
“Ew,” Atlas says.
I pretend to throw something at him. “You know what he means.”
I face our Transporters. “I don’t think those will do much good here,” I say. “If we need, you know, physical contact.”<
br />
Our plan means venturing across the surface.
We stand on the top of a building with a staircase leading to the unknown. We’ll need to descend and possibly fight whatever lurks inside.
“I told you! Insects!” Atlas shouts as he plows his Electric Glove into a Golgan.
The building is full of giant insects. The Golgan, which looks like what Atlas calls a grasshopper—only green and black—takes the blow and flies back into the dark stairwell’s wall. Standing at our height, all Golgans sport pincers big enough to take off a player’s head. Golgans range in level from 15 to 35, so far, but the species swarms, just like their fighter ships.
“Another one!” Coco shouts, firing her Blaster. Her Mod doesn’t overheat as much and she can maintain fire for longer periods now that she’s leveled up. She’s saving us from the horde that is descending from the floors we’ve already passed. Atlas and Panda take the lead. While I take out a few Golgans pouring through the doors and into the stairwell, I have to work at close range, which isn’t my strong suit.
My door flies open again and a Golgan, with a cluster of a hundred green eyes, raises a black claw to deal a blow. The monster strikes, but my Electrified Titanium Armor deals damage to the enemy, lowering its health bar by a third. Firing my Sniper Rifle, I deal a critical hit. The Golgan bursts into a hundred gross pieces, leaving a pincer on the ground.
“Could these guys at least drop good loot?” Panda shouts, pushing ahead. He fights with a Modded Blaster, just like Coco’s, and shoots triple beams, clearing a path forward. “I don’t want claws!”
We’ve formed a bubble to force our way through the Golgan mass. Firing at two walls of insect bodies, we creep down the stairs. Claws snap. The creatures chitter. The swarm remains solid. I’ll see Golgans every time I blink for the rest of my life.
One step. Another. A landing. A claw snaps out, dealing ten percent damage. A Level 35 Golgan. I fire into a hundred eyes, lowering its health bar by a quarter, and then Coco delivers the killing blow with Blaster fire. The creature explodes in my face.
“We’re at the bottom floor!” Atlas shouts.
I take a Nanobot Pack from my hotbar and heal my damage. We’ve collected hundreds over the past few weeks. Back to back, our group shuffles off the landing and into a low, dark room full of more Golgans. I glimpse at the street—empty. The Golgans aren’t outdoor types.
I can’t wait to get out there, where I’ll be useful.
Re-equipping my Sniper Rifle, I take out two Golgans by aiming over Panda’s head. Brushing against Coco, I back toward the archway exit, shooting the entire time. Even without peering through my Scope, my Sniper Dead Eye points remain high. Headshot follows headshot. Shooting at close range helps.
And my Speed points will help once we’re out.
“Run as soon as we’re in the open!” I yell. “We don’t have time to deal with crowd control.”
At last, we burst from the front entrance. Atlas pulls on my arm as the Golgans snap at us, all trying to push through the doorway at once. The creatures wedge against each other, forming a temporary dam.
“This way!” he shouts.
We run.
The street stretches through tall, jagged buildings and toward the black hole’s beam. The massive, dark crown waits. It shifts into a dome and back into jagged points. Our target must be a kilometer away. We have to approach in the open. The plan is dangerous, but going through the buildings is worse.
“Incoming!” Panda yells.
Raising my Rifle, I look through the Scope as I run. My red target locks on a Golgan scaling down a building from a window, claws clicking against dark stone. I fire, dropping its health bar by a third. The force of the blow knocks the Golgan off the building and sends the giant insect plummeting.
“We need you!” Atlas shouts.
“Thanks, I haven’t figured that out yet,” I breathe. Firing on Golgan after Golgan, I run after the others. The count doesn’t matter. My mind locks into Sniper mode and there’s just me and the Golgan targets.
“These buildings,” Coco says, breaking into my trance. “They’re nests. The Golgans don’t like to stray outside.”
I lower my Scope and continue to run.
We’ve closed a lot of distance between us and the dark citadel. And ahead of me, Atlas stops.
We skid to a stop beside him.
“Well, that’s not good,” Panda says.
From the corner of my vision, I observe a few more Golgans climb down their nest-buildings, from exit holes, and windows. Ten humanoid figures in front of us come into focus against the beam, running toward us at top speed. Before our enemies blur into focus, I know these avatars are top-level players. Their speed betrays this fact.
“We’ve got the payroll coming!” Atlas shouts, equipping Ground Bombs. He throws the explosives into the middle of the street, but the players split down the middle, anticipating his move.
“Back!” I yell, waving everyone to a Golgan building.
A couple of Sniper shots go off. I jolt as my health bar goes half red. Electrified Titanium Armor can’t even block much damage. We’re dealing with high-level players for sure—and likely a 5th Tier Sniper Scope.
My cluster takes shelter in a narrow alley. Atlas remains at the mouth while I take out a Golgan crawling toward us. Golgan body parts rain down.
And the alley is a dead end.
“We’re pinned!” Coco shouts, joining Atlas at the mouth of the alley. “We have Level 45 players out there!”
Hopelessness creeps into my knees, causing tremors, but I join her at the entrance, raising my Scope. Panda shouts something but his voice mixes with the noise. We haven’t even reached the citadel and the ICC is taking us out.
Coco takes a critical hit. Her health bar turns bloody, leaving a sliver of green.
“We’re done!” Atlas shouts.
I aim at a Cyborg, a Level 43 man with tattoos. He raises a Grenade Launcher at me—sure to send us back to the orbiting station—and grimaces as Coco’s Blaster fire slowly drops his health. Like us, he wears Electrified Titanium Armor.
But then, a shot from the side takes his health bar down. The Cyborg turns, but more Blaster fire finishes him before I get a shot off.
The street turns into a war zone as new players, running from the direction we came, open fire on the ICC hires. A few Golgans drop onto the surface and charge the ICC players and newcomers alike, shattering in the heavy fire. I don’t understand what’s happening. And then, I do.
The newcomers’ leader grimaces as she steps into Blaster fire—a Cyborg woman with short purple hair, a skull face tattoo, and Electrified Titanium Armor. She’s still grimacing, but she’s also absorbing damage with a minimal health drop.
Gen_W31. Level 44.
General Willis.
She and her people have followed us here. The survivors of Sector 14 have been spying on us.
She takes out a Human who is holding a Sniper Rifle with a Modded Blaster like Coco’s. I blink, counting fifteen of her fighters. Both ICC players and Golgans fall, leaving the black pavement littered in corpses and Golgan pincers.
At last, the firing stops. Gen_W31 glares at our group, still huddled at the mouth of the alley.
“How did you find us?” I ask, straightening.
We’re in a bad situation. Gen_W still wants to shut down The Binding, but not in a way that will benefit anyone but Sector 14. And she still wants The Hermit too. Her eyes shine with greed and revenge.
“We’ve been following you and leveling up,” she barks, lowering her Blaster. “Do you want to take down the ICC or not? We have a mutual mission.”
“I trust her as much as I do the ICC,” Atlas says.
“So do I,” I say.
“Is she the crazy lady you mentioned?” Panda whispers.
I eye the beam. More players will wait around the citadel along with the Admins. Gen_W and Sector 14 don’t deserve our trust, but our enemies might offer the only hope of co
mpleting our plan. Atlas and I exchange a look. I take a breath, trying to calm my nerves. Atlas nods at me, filling me with tingles.
“We need her,” I whisper. “For now.”
After we finish our mission, we’ll have to deal with Sector 14.
By then, we might have The Hermit in Admin form again.
“Well?” Gen_W asks. Keeping her glare on us, she shoots an approaching Golgan from the side. “Do you want to infiltrate the ICC or not?”
I nod to the others. “Let’s go.”
Atlas pats me on the shoulder. His touch does wonders to calm my nerves. Though I hide emotion, he knows when I need reassurance.
“Loot corpses,” Gen_W shouts.
“I’m the leader,” I say, aware she’s four levels above me. In a fight, she would likely win. My throat’s dry. “I give the orders.”
She nods, holding me in her glare.
The Hermit stays silent, as if sensing the danger. I loot the Sniper’s corpse. He does in fact have a 5th Tier Sniper Scope, which I equip. Now my Scope will find body heat again, even through solid structures, and lock onto targets from up to half a kilometer away. The Scope once again adds 10 Sniper Dead Eye points to my base stats.
“Grenade Launcher. Nice,” Atlas says. “It’s for keeps.”
Feeling better about having a top tier weapon again, I face Gen_W. “We need to take out as many players as possible. Let me . . . let me get close to an Admin and take him out. Distracting one will help.”
“That’s me,” Atlas says, standing beside me. “Any other tanks here?”
Gen_W has seen The Hermit in Admin form before. She must know my plan. But she doesn’t have her private dimension here to take our weapons away. The thought doesn’t reassure me. Sector 14 followed us here, which doesn’t bode well.
“Lobster. Cammi.” Gen_W waves two other players forward. “Tank with Atlas. Distract an Admin. If he dissolves you, you’ve made a useful sacrifice.”
Two Androids step forward, saying nothing.
“We move forward,” I say.
Atlas and the two others stay together and go ahead. A couple more Golgans and ICC players try to attack, but the Grenade Launcher, a good close range weapon, wipes out resistance. Gen_W fires her Modded Blaster at others, clearing the way. The stone crown towers over us now as the beam rises overhead.
