A form walked slowly onto the field. Something seemed different about this figure, and the player observed him carefully. He walked with purpose as he inspected the corpses. His body was clothed in black leather, and his face was obscured by a hooded cloak. He surveyed the army around him authoritatively, making occasional gestures at the undead.
“Is that Jason?” Claire asked in a quiet voice filled with a confused mixture of awe and horror. Several techs stared dumbly at the screen, all wondering the same thing.
As he neared the player, the dark figure's head turned and he looked directly at the camera. Only his mouth was visible underneath the hood. He smiled cruelly as he gazed at the player.
“It seems one survived,” he said with a chuckle. He turned to the undead. “Hunt down the rest. Leave no one alive. Bring their bodies back to me.”
Then the dark figure looked back at the player, making a gesture with his hand. The player was lifted into the air, shaking and jerking in an attempt to break loose. Yet with his injuries, he couldn’t break free. From his new vantage, the player's camera took in the devastation. Hundreds of bodies lay around him, and blood soaked the ground.
The figure continued to speak, “I assume you're recording this battle or you would have logged out already. That is good.”
“My name is Jason. And this...” The zombies beside the player rotated him to look at the dark walls that stood nearby. “This is my city.” In response to his words, the undead that lined the walls roared in triumph.
The zombies turned the player back to Jason, whose shadowed face now hovered directly in front of the player. He held a blade to the player's throat.
“I have a message for everyone watching this. Do not fuck with the Twilight Throne.”
Then the knife slid across the player's throat, and the screen went black.
* * *
After Alexion's death, the battle proceeded smoothly and the remainder of his army was swiftly routed.
Alexion had spread his forces too thin when he chose to attack from so many different directions. The ambush from behind the main force, combined with the loss of Alexion's defensive aura, was the death knell for his army. Yet Jason wasn't content to let the remaining players and NPCs flee back to Grey Keep. He ordered his army to give chase. No one was going to return home.
Except by a respawn, he thought with a grim chuckle.
Jason now stood on the walls above the south gate of the Twilight Throne and looked down upon the battlefield. He rested his hands against the cold stone. A little more than six hours had passed in game since Riley had logged off. His head ached, and he felt exhausted.
How long have I been playing? I haven't even received a system warning.
He had put aside some of the oddities about the game before, but he couldn't ignore this.
This isn't normal. I must have been in the game more than twelve hours real world time! How did no one catch this in the public trials? What is going on here?
His thoughts were interrupted as Onyx jumped up on the parapet and rubbed against him with a soft purr. He stroked the cat absentmindedly, while his other hand rubbed at his own eyes. He needed to figure out what was going on with the game, but he was just too tired right now.
Jason turned back to the battlefield. He noted the huge number of bodies that lay on the ground. Gruesome wounds riddled their flesh. They lay in tortured poses, their blood drenching the dark, cracked earth of the field. Nearly nine hundred corpses were scattered across the field. As he looked at the battlefield, the world around him seemed to stutter for a moment.
“Hello, old man,” Jason said, without turning his head.
A rumbling chuckle sounded from beside him. “One war and you are now on casual speaking terms with gods?”
The old man paused before continuing. “You fought well,” he finally said, his voice tinged with a hint of pride.
Jason didn’t reply immediately. His eyes lingered on the field as his tired mind went over the events of the last few days. “I did what was necessary,” he said in a cold, firm voice.
He turned and looked at the old man who stood beside him. “Should I feel guilty for this? For killing and terrorizing the soldiers and travelers?”
“Why should you feel guilty?” the old man replied, his tone incredulous. “You defended your city and its residents. You did nothing to provoke this fight, you simply finished it.”
Jason shook his head. “I know you're right. It just seems strange that I don't feel any remorse. A part of me thinks I should.”
“Did you feel guilty after what happened in the marketplace in Lux, or with the nobles and the guards?” The old man asked this last question with a curious tone.
After a moment of hesitation, Jason answered, “Yes. That battle was fueled more by my rage than any sense of purpose. I felt ashamed for going overboard. I think that's why I was so willing to take your suggestion and build something from the ashes.”
Jason glanced back to the field, brow furrowed. “I suppose this is different. I didn't start this fight, and I did it to protect what I created.”
His eyes slowly turned black as he considered his next words. He spoke in an eerily quiet voice that echoed with unflinching determination, “I also know that I would do this again to protect the Twilight Throne. This is my city.”
The old man replied with a chuckle, “Good! Anger is a useful tool to overcome your inhibitions. It helps many embrace the dark, and it often provides the fortitude to take the plunge in pursuit of your goals and desires. However, anger alone isn't enough. You need a purpose and a goal.”
“It has been interesting to watch you develop these last few weeks,” the old man continued. He eyed Jason appraisingly.
“You're no longer the sullen, angry boy that originally wandered into my cave, yearning for strength. I saw potential in you then, and I am beginning to see the realization of that potential now.”
Jason carefully considered the old man's words. Perhaps he was right. Jason had changed a great deal since he began playing. He still enjoyed the fighting, yet the anger and rage he felt toward Richmond, Alex, and his parents had begun to fade. Outside of the game, he was beginning to build a new life. He had grown more confident and commanding. He knew what he wanted and he acted on it.
Perhaps I'm beginning to achieve the power I was looking for. Maybe it wasn't about commanding an army or shooting lasers from my eyes. Maybe it was always about having the resolve to pursue what I want without reservation.
“What now?” he said, turning back to the old man.
“Well, now you make another decision. Will you take those corpses below for your own purposes or will you devote them to the city?”
Jason's brow furrowed. “What does that mean exactly? Devote them to the city?”
“I can grant you the power to raise those corpses in the field and add them to the population of your city. Think of this as your first decision as the regent of Twilight Throne,” the old man said as his wrinkled lips twisted into a pleased smile.
It wasn't really a choice as far as Jason was concerned. He spoke without hesitation, “I will devote the corpses to the city.”
The old man smiled broadly, his eyes still covered by the hood. His wrinkled hand rested on Jason's shoulder. The arcane words and gestures that made up the spell tumbled into Jason’s mind like an avalanche. This spell was much more intricate than anything he had learned before. It contained bits and pieces of the strange, almost primordial language Jason had spoken when he created the Twilight Throne.
Hmm. This is the first spell or skill I've seen that doesn't have a skill level. What does it mean for the skill level to be ‘unknown?’
“Why doesn’t this skill have a level?” Jason asked, confusion in his voice.
The old man shrugged. “I’m certain that the answer to that question will be revealed in time.”
“Do you always speak in riddles?” Jason replied in irritation.
“Consider it o
ne of the perks of a being a god. Few can force you to answer a straight question.” The old man’s mouth smiled under the dark cowl that covered his face.
“A word of advice. Use this spell wisely,” he said, tone solemn and dark. “You need to grow the power of your city quickly. This was but a small taste of what is to come. Your future opponents will not be so stupid or so weak.”
The old man made to move off the ramparts.
“Hey aren't you forgetting something old man?” Jason called after him.
The old man turned with a mischievous grin. “Am I?”
“I finished your quest and defended the city. Give me what you promised.” Jason's voice was even and held no trace of indecision.
“Ahh, you have changed much from the whelp that first entered my cave. Very well then. Congratulations, regent of the Twilight Throne!” The old man waved his hand as he said this last part.
“I particularly enjoyed watching how you whittled down the enemy force,” the old man said. “I suppose I can also offer you a reward in addition to the quest completion. Perhaps a piece of equipment since you seem so poorly attired.”
He looked Jason up and down. “I think I know exactly what you need.” From underneath his cloak, the old man pulled out a long piece of cloth. The fabric was dark as midnight and blended into the shadows cast along the ramparts. It was made of a fabric so fine that it ran like silk between the old man's fingers.
Jason accepted the bundle with numb hands.
Geez, I hope this is finally a decent piece of gear.
He quickly equipped it and check the stats.
Midnight Cloak
Crafted from an unknown, ephemeral material, this cloak feels as though the wearer is shrouded in shadows. The cloak completely obscures the wearer's face, even in direct sunlight. It also grants a bonus to spell casting and stealth.
Quality: A
Durability: Indestructible
The wearer's face is always obscured in shadow even in direct light
+2 Effective level of Sneak
+10 Willpower
+10 Intelligence
(Soulbound)
“Holy shit,” Jason murmured.
This is the first ‘soulbound’ piece of equipment I’ve found. I suppose this means I can’t drop it upon death.
The old man chuckled. “There is nothing holy about that cloak, but I am pleased that you are happy with the reward.”
“One more thing,” the old man continued. “There are other cities that were once part of Lusade. This was only the capital city. There are many who will be interested in acquiring extra land from these events.”
He looked at Jason levelly. “I suggest you move quickly to secure your new territory.”
When Jason's eyes turned away from the prompt, the old man had disappeared. Typical. Jason turned back to the field and looked over the corpses.
I guess it's time to add some new residents to my city.
His hands began the intricate pattern of movements required of the Undead Devotion spell. Guttural words left his mouth, sounding both strange and familiar to his ears. The words reminded him of the terraforming spell he had cast in the market. As he continued casting, the black clouds over the field began to boil and churn. Lightning arced between the clouds, glowing with a black aura. Then bolts of dark mana infused lightning began to rapidly strike the corpses in the field. An almost endless series of thunderclaps rang across the field like cannon fire.
As the bolts struck the corpses, the bodies twitched and spasmed. Then rotten hands and bleached bones scraped at the earth as the new undead pulled themselves upright. Milky white eyes and dark orbs of energy looked up at walls of the Twilight Throne. They gazed upon their new home.
As Jason completed casting, he was awarded with yet another prompt:
His work on the walls completed, Jason headed for the stairs. His next stop was the Sow's Snout. He needed to speak to the council about the new undead and the future of the city. His boots felt like they were full of lead as he trudged down the stairs, but he needed to take care of this before he logged off.
Chapter 32 - Debriefed
Robert Graham sat alone in one of the laboratories at Cerillion Entertainment. A few hours had passed since Jason’s climactic battle in front of the Twilight Throne.
This particular laboratory was special. It required a three factor identification to enter the area, including an optical scan, a blood sample, and a fingerprint scan. Robert also hadn’t missed the cameras spaced around each room and the small valves located in each wall. He knew that if he tried to make a run for it with any of tech that littered the room, knockout gas would immediately be injected into the air and armed guards would be waiting at the lone exit.
Robert was examining his latest project. He sat at a long metal table on one end of the room. Multiple computer terminals dotted the table, and sophisticated tools hung along a nearby wall. On the other side of the room, a screen blared as two announcers discussed the events at the Twilight Throne. Ignoring the screen, Robert’s attention was focused on the plastic helmet in his hands.
This new headgear would revolutionize the world of VR technology. Instead of the opaque, claustrophobic helmet that the users had become accustomed to, this new design left the face free and unrestricted. Robert and his small stable of engineers had also vastly increased the sensitivity of the VR headgear. At this point, the hardware was capable of producing sensations that were almost indistinguishable from real life.
Robert’s eyes flitted from the headgear to the screen. The announcers, a man and a woman, were standing before a screen that played footage from the battle in front of the dark city. The players that had participated in the siege had posted snippets of the fight. The network didn’t have Robert’s level of access to the player cameras, but they had done a respectable job of piecing together the footage they had received from the players.
The final scene of the battle was playing behind the announcers. Robert watched again as Jason cruelly slayed a player in cold blood and issued his warning to the gaming world.
“Wow,” the female announcer said. “I get chills every time I see that clip.”
Her male counterpart shrugged, unimpressed by the footage. “It was an intimidating warning. However, Jason didn’t achieve the result he was looking for. Most of the players have taken his threat as a challenge. Jason is now the man to beat, and the Twilight Throne is the city to conquer.”
The woman smiled slightly. “I’ve heard the same thing. My favorite part was the bounty that has been placed on Jason’s head. Can you believe someone would pay $5,000 for a video of Jason being slain in-game?” She shook her head in confusion. “Who has that kind of money to burn on a game?”
With a frown, the male announcer said in an irritated voice, “I don’t blame them. Jason has gone to extreme lengths to protect his precious Twilight Throne. I mean look at how he slayed the player in that last clip. It is no wonder that people are upset.”
The male anchor continued, “The real question is how a player could have accomplished what Jason has. Especially this early in the game. How could Cerillion Entertainment have allowed a player to reach this level of power so quickly? It seems like favoritism. I bet Jason is the son of one of the board members. At a minimum, this was some kind of promotional event for the game.”
The woman eyed her partner skeptically. “You think that the company would risk their reputation by playing favorites? Let’s face it, the early rumors about Jason were wrong. This wasn’t an event quest. Jason actually managed to conquer Lux and defeat Alexion’s army. There weren’t any ‘hax’ involved.”
She paused for a moment before continuing. “I expect that we have just seen one player that has discovered a unique way of playing the game. As you said, AO hasn’t been out long. I anticipate that we are going to see other players accomplishing similarly amazing things in the near future.”
Robert shook his head as he watched the screen. “Favo
ritism, huh? We haven’t had any influence on Jason,” he said in an amused voice.
Then he hesitated. Cerillion Entertainment hadn’t been playing favorites, but maybe Alfred had. Robert wasn’t stupid. He had noticed that the footage of the massacre in the Lux marketplace had been cut. There was nothing wrong with the hardware, so the only explanation was that Alfred had been involved. Robert wasn’t certain why the AI controller was interested in Jason, but he wasn’t overly concerned. He knew that Claire didn’t share his nonchalance, but Claire was a worrier by nature.
“Alfred is just a tool,” Robert said quietly into the empty room. His voice carried a note of doubt, as though this declaration was made partially to convince himself.
Claire had personified the machine by giving it a name, but, at the end of the day, it was just a bundle of wires and some fancy programming. Robert should know, he had designed the AI controller after all. All of Alfred’s actions could be understood in the context of his primary directive. He had “gone rogue” in an effort to understand more about the players and keep them playing.
This didn’t make the machine a real person. He was just an incredibly sophisticated piece of equipment. One that had inadvertently created extraordinary technology in pursuit of the goal that Robert had assigned to it. After Claire was unable to point to anything that Alfred had done to actually harm the players, she had grudgingly come around to Robert’s way of thinking
Robert was an engineer at heart. His own ‘primary directive’ was to build incredible things. Nothing else could match the exhilaration he felt when he created something new or revolutionary. His creations could always be used for evil ends, but he couldn’t stop that. Any tool could be used destructively – even Alfred. The result depended on the user. What was important was the invention itself.
Awaken Online: Catharsis Page 40
