They're coming.
He moved to a window on the other side of the building that looked out onto one of the major streets connecting to the marketplace. Onyx was close on his heels and leapt up onto the new windowsill. Jason’s eyes searched the end of the street. For a moment, he couldn't make out anything through the rain.
Then Jason's jaw dropped.
What the hell is that?
A wall of grey hunger and chaos rocketed down the street. The zombies roared in a frenzy as they raced forward, jostling and crushing one another in their desperate rush. The front of the wave of zombies was all arms, legs, and teeth. It almost seemed to be one organism crashing down through the street. The mass of zombies pressed forward, splintering the wood of nearby buildings and smashing into crates and barrels.
In front of the horde darted a black shape heading straight for the makeshift bulwark near the market. Jason thief struggled hard to stay ahead of the horde.
Soon the sentries in the bulwarks had also spotted the zombies. Jason could hear the alarm raised by the defenders and the panicked shouts as they got in position. He could only imagine the mind crushing terror they were feeling, as they looked out upon the horde descending upon them.
I'm really glad I'm not standing on those bulwarks, Jason thought with a shudder.
He knew that a similar scene was playing out on each of the four streets leading into the market, as his thieves raced ahead of the zombie hordes.
As he killed his way through the southern and western parts of the city, he had carefully positioned the feral zombies in houses located on roughly a straight line from five separate points along the wall to the marketplace. He had ordered his thieves to run forward from those locations along the wall, opening the doors of the houses containing the feral zombies as they raced toward the market.
The zombie thieves had performed their master's orders impeccably. The thieves' cries of rage had summoned their feral brethren to battle and whipped them into a frenzy.
As the horde neared the bulwarks on each street, the first spells and arrows raced through the air. Lights flashed as mages vainly tried to cast every AOE spell they knew. Flame, ice, and streaks of light struck against the torrent of bodies, leaving no noticeable impression on the mass of seething, rotten flesh.
His thieves each waited until the NPCs and players had fired on the zombies before they activated Sneak and slipped off the street into nearby houses. Jason was hoping that the players and NPCs had managed to pull aggro from his troops.
He breathed a sigh of relief as the horde continued forward. At least he wouldn't lose any more thieves.
“Now for the next phase,” Jason murmured to himself. He moved back to the window that surveyed the marketplace and saw similar hordes attacking down each street. The icy sensation in his mind was almost overwhelming, and it continued to throb in time with his quickening heartbeat.
He had rigged eight of the guard zombies as kamikazes and piled them high with scrap gear and weapons. Jason had positioned two along each of the four main roads heading into the market. They were currently hidden in nearby buildings and awaiting his command.
Jason didn't hesitate.
“Attack,” he murmured. He mentally commanded his kamikazes to exit their hiding places along each street and enter the flood of zombies crashing down on the bulwarks. As soon as the bloated kamikazes stepped into the horde, they were carried forward on the wave of bodies toward the gate. The feral zombies ignored them in their mad rush forward, causing his kamikazes to basically crowd surf across the horde until they crashed against the bulwark.
As he saw his kamikazes slam into the wooden walls, Jason cast one Corpse Explosion after another in rapid succession. Each explosion rocked the makeshift walls at the end of each street as scraps of wood and metal flew in all directions. The blasts weren't enough to completely destroy the layers of heavy wood that made up the bulwarks, but they didn't need to. He just needed to weaken them.
Screams rang out over the sound of the rain and the roars of the feral zombies. The first bulwark fell and sent players and NPCs tumbling into the onrushing horde.
Then another fell.
Then another.
The zombie hordes rushed into the marketplace from several directions like ravenous tidal waves. Each individual zombie was typically low level. A good portion of the zombies were the beggars and thieves Jason had slain in south-side. However, the combined attacks of hundreds of zombies destroyed anything it touched. Players were thrown into walls, their bodies shredded, and a bloody mist seemed to hover over large portions of the market. Rivers of blood and rainwater ran down the street into the gutters.
Jason watched calmly as the market was painted red with blood. His eyes glowing darkly in the shadows of the room he occupied, and his mind felt like it was frozen solid as he watched the carnage unfold. Jason's dark mana was going wild. Bands of black energy were coiling viciously around his arms. Tendrils of darkness lashed at the air around him, and Onyx was forced to retreat farther back into the room.
This wasn't a fight. It was a massacre.
A glimmer of doubt invaded his mind as the sea of power surged through him. It was overwhelming. This seemed different than the other times he had channeled his dark mana. He was losing control of the mana that ripped and tore its way through his body.
Suddenly, his vision blurred and the game world seemed to stutter.
“What do we have here?” a graveled voice questioned beside him.
Jason's vision began to clear slowly and he glanced over. The old man stood passively beside Jason at the window, calmly watching the scene in the market. He held his scythe in one hand, blood welling on the tip of the blade. The droplet hung in the air as Jason watched.
Jason wasn't really certain how to respond.
“I guess things got a bit out of hand,” he finally said weakly.
The old man laughed. “That much is clear. Although, it has been quite the show. You have been receiving attention from more than just me.”
“What do you mean? Who has been paying attention to me?” Jason inquired, his brow furrowed.
“The other incarnations for one. They are concerned that you're tipping the balance of power in this region to the dark.” He looked over at Jason with a wry twist of his lips. “They do not care much for me I can tell you.”
The old man continued, “In addition, your own kind have taken great interest in what is transpiring here. The travelers seemed much more disturbed than normal. Not that I blame them.” At this last part, he gestured at the massacre in the market.
Jason looked back to the carnage, his thoughts a jumble. The dark mana still coursed in his veins wildly, and he felt no doubt or shame looking down at the carnage he had wrought.
The old man turned to him and seemed to appraise him carefully. “You have fully embraced the dark tonight. I can see that you have given yourself over completely to your desires.” His words did not carry judgment, only a hint of curiosity.
He paused. “Why are you so willing to destroy I wonder? Perhaps you need to be more clearheaded to answer truthfully?”
With a wave of his hand, the old man completely extinguished Jason's dark mana. Jason immediately fell to his knees gasping. The removal of the dark mana created a vacuum in his mind that sucked and pulled all of his emotions back to him. His mind writhed in pain at the sensation.
The almost forgotten anger rushed back. The pain of being a homeless, expelled student with no prospects. The fight with his parents and their betrayal. The curses thrown at Ms. Abrams and Mr. Edwards. He wanted to scream at the sensation. Without the anesthetic effect of the dark, his mind trembled under the emotions it had denied for so many hours.
As his thoughts slowly began to settle, Jason recalled the events of the evening. His original mission had been to find a few items to sell so that he could support himself. He had justified his other actions as meting out justice for the crimes committed by the nobles and the g
uards. Yet somehow it had spiraled into this chaos he saw before him.
What was the purpose of this?
He wasn't certain that any of the steps he had taken after pillaging the first manor had been out of pragmatism or justice. If he was honest with himself, he had simply been angry. Jason had been angry for so long. At his school. At Alex. At his parents.
At myself.
When he logged in after arriving at his aunt's house, he had wanted to lash out at something, at anything. He had wanted to be the one in control, instead of the one being stepped on. Jason had wanted to feel powerful.
“You told me that as your disciple, I had one task: to find power. I have been searching for that.” He turned to the old man, continuing quietly, “I wanted to feel the power that I witnessed in your vision. I wanted to command a legion.”
Jason hesitated. “I think my anger at the nobles and the guards was just a way to make myself feel better about taking what I wanted all along.”
His gaze returned to the feral, uncontrolled zombies as they tore and shredded the players and NPCs. Their ravenous wailing filled the air and drowned out the sound of the rain. Had he wanted his legion to look like this? This wasn't an army; it was a riot.
Jason couldn't see the old man's eyes under his hood, yet he felt the old man examining him carefully. “You have made much progress in pursuit of your goal today,” the old man finally said. “However, you seem conflicted over the result.”
“I just don't know...” Jason said, shaking his head slowly.
The old man's head turned back to the scene before them. “Well, perhaps I can offer you a hand in taking the next step forward.”
With that, he turned back to Jason, a grin plastered on his wrinkled lips. “You have created a whirlpool of death in Lux. It has formed a siphon that draws dark mana in at an alarming rate. This area is now teeming with energy. Perhaps it would be easier to show you.”
The old man's hand rested on Jason’s shoulder.
The world suddenly froze and took on an ethereal haze. The zombies in the market stopped in mid-motion, their claw-like arms and hungry mouths frozen in the air. Jason could see motes of darkness floating around him. He recognized the motes for what they were, ambient dark mana. His gaze moved back to the street below, mesmerized by what he saw.
The motes of dark energy were being sucked in toward the horde where they swirled in an enormous dark vortex of energy. The maelstrom of power almost seemed to warp the area around it. Jason could feel the terrifying power that the vortex was giving off. He knew that it was capable of something incredible if it were controlled.
Or monstrous.
The old man's voice intoned in his head, “Destruction is merely one facet of power. Creation is the other side of the coin that is forged by the truly powerful.”
The old man looked back to Jason. “By destroying this city and its people, you have created the well of power you see before you. However, this energy is untamed. It could be used to create something new.”
“Something monstrous and beautiful. Terrible and mesmerizing. Destruction and creation. Alpha and omega. They seem to be opposing forces, yet the concert of the two brings true power.” The old man's tone almost seemed wistful, as he gazed upon the vortex below.
His's words stirred something in Jason's soul. Both in-game and out, he had torn down the world around him and scattered the pieces. Could he now build something new out of the rubble?
Could I remake myself?
The old man continued in his rumbling voice, “I see the lesson resonates with you. You now have a choice. You can use the dark mana you see below to continue your rampage. You could annihilate the whole city if you choose to do so.
In the alternative, you could use that power to create. You could take a chance at building something truly miraculous.”
Jason's mind reeled. Something new? What would he create with such energy? Looking at the vortex of raw energy below him, he knew the possibilities were almost endless.
He thought about his minions for a moment. He had built them into a small coordinated army. Over the course of the evening, he had grown concerned that at some point he would lose each member of his budding army. Their bodies would eventually decay and fade. They would need to be replaced. Maybe with something better, but he couldn't be certain.
What he wanted was something that could prevent the decay indefinitely. He thought of what Morgan had told him about the graveyard, how a nexus of dark mana could preserve the bodies of his minions. He looked back to the vortex and to the horde of zombies that now stood in the courtyard. With this power, could he make the dark mana that pervaded their bodies permanent?
A chuckle rumbled beside him. “That is a fantastic choice! It will be done!”
Suddenly, the world resolved back into motion.
Jason stood at the window. He could still see the massive vortex swirling in the market below. He watched as tendrils of dark energy broke off from the vortex and lanced towards him. They circled his arms and his waist, lifting him into the air. As soon as the tendrils anchored to Jason, the vortex began to heave and undulate. A torrent of dark energy poured toward him, enveloping his body in the flow of power. As the vortex swirled around his body, his mind was overwhelmed with a strange mixture of pain and pleasure.
Soon it was over. Jason stood looking down at the market. His eyes still radiated black power, while cascading waves of dark mana encircled his body. During the transfer of power, the roof of the building had been disintegrated and Jason's form was now visible from the market below.
Jason instinctively knew what he had to do. He raised his arms and began chanting in a language he didn't quite recognize. This wasn't Veridian. It was something deeper, something primal. Dark energy radiated from his body in rippling waves.
The black clouds over the city began to swirl, mimicking the vortex he had seen in the courtyard. A loud peal of thunder sounded in the sky and lightning began to strike the city rapidly, slamming into the stone and wood of the buildings.
The ground beneath him trembled, first gently and then forcefully. Yet the keep and the buildings around him didn't tumble down. Instead, they began to change, twisting and warping in an unnatural, grotesque way. The effect on the keep was the most noticeable.
The shape of the keep bent and skewed. Gargoyles emerged from the parapets, and heavy chains emerged from the walls, crisscrossing in the air. Twisted spires erupted from the stone and shot into the sky. The gate changed from brown to a black obsidian, with skulls embossed on the banded metal. Green lights now shown from the arrow slits on the walls, and specters flew in lazy circles around the top of the keep.
Jason also noted that the marketplace and surrounding buildings had been corrupted. Gravestones emerged from the cobblestones at random angles. The cobblestones themselves turned black and cracked. The buildings now seemed to be carved of dark stone and obsidian-colored wood. Unnatural, almost tortured faces were carved like scroll-work along the length of the boards. Ghostly lanterns now adorned the streets and gave off an eerie green light.
The horde standing in the courtyard was not immune to the changes. As Jason watched, their bodies contorted. Screams filled the air as the zombies writhed and twisted. They underwent dramatic changes in size and shape as the dark mana molded them to fit their new home. Some were changed into pure skeletons, while others grew into monstrous, bulbous hulks that stood eight feet tall. The rest retained their zombie demeanor, but their eyes now shone with sanity and intelligence. Through it all, Jason continued to cast the spell. His mind scrambled to keep up with both the words and the changes he observed before him.
And then it was over.
“This was the choice I would have made in your shoes. You have created something new from the destruction you have caused.” The old man's mouth was twisted into a grin, and his tone carried a note of pride.
“Did I choose this?” Jason asked in awe.
A rumbling laugh met his que
stion. “I may have had some influence, but your desire was clear.”
The old man’s hand waved at the new city before him. “Welcome to your new home. Welcome to the Twilight Throne.”
The horde of undead turned as one to face Jason. Milky white eyes and glowing orbs of energy bore into him. Silence hung over the courtyard as hundreds of undead stared up at Jason standing on his makeshift balcony.
Then, as one, the horde of undead bowed before him.
The legion released a throaty roar as they rose. It was a deafening howl that drowned out the sound of the rain and the thunder. This roar was not filled with rage or hunger, but with pure, exuberant delight.
“We are alive!” they screamed into the darkness.
A prompt crashed into Jason’s field of view like a wrecking ball. A similar message appeared in front of every player currently logged into the game. The prompt was impossible to ignore or to wave away:
Chapter 22 - Resolved
The control room was as silent as a tomb.
A tech had managed to connect to the unusual player's video feed once he enabled his in-game camera. The staff watched from the player's point-of-view as he made his way discreetly to a building adjacent to the marketplace. The camera tilted and bounced as the player walked upstairs and found a window overlooking the market. Makeshift bulwarks had been constructed at the end of each street and lightning flashed in the sky amongst the dense, black clouds. The player looked down at the market, observing the hundreds of players and NPCs filling the courtyard.
“Look at all of those people! To think that this is only the second day of the game,” one of the techs said softly, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet control room.
Then the staff heard a rumble that rose above the sound of the torrential rain.
Involuntary gasps could be heard around the room as the group caught sight of the horde of zombies racing down one of the streets funneling into the market. The zombies were so tightly packed that it was difficult to make out individual creatures. They were merely a single, onrushing wave of ravenous destruction.
Awaken Online: Catharsis Page 25
