by K. T. Hanna
A sudden cold front moved through the caverns as they fought their third wave of icy fae. Even though she knew the whole setup was to assess them, the fact that the icy fae didn’t appear to have any special abilities was still a disappointment. It felt like they were fighting lower level skeletons that didn’t require a group. Their bodies and abilities broke under almost no pressure, yielded little to no experience, and delivered an all-out unsatisfactory combat experience.
Murmur knew this dungeon was Emilarth’s doing, and also knew the feles was quite enamored with playing pranks. Perhaps the dungeon had taken that initial idea and run with it. Considering everything else happening, it wasn’t even a stretch.
That was all the time she had for contemplation. As they cut down the fourth group of useless intermediaries, the chill intensified. Despite the drawbacks of the debuff they’d received, Murmur was more than glad of the extra warmth it provided in exchange. She was pretty sure without it they would have all be taking cold damage.
A sudden roar echoed throughout the cavern, bouncing from wall to wall, making shards of ice rain down upon them. Everyone covered their heads automatically, putting their hands up to fend off any shards that might hit their skin. The ground felt unstable yet again but held their weight. Murmur couldn’t even express how grateful she was that it didn’t open to another ice slide.
The raid couldn’t move backward, which meant the only way out was forward toward the roar and the freezing cold air emanating through the space. Taking a deep breath and wishing for the umpteenth time that her wolf was by her side and not off somewhere doing whatever it was he decided was important, Murmur motioned for them to head down the icy path toward the boss fae that was clearly preparing to fight them anyway.
Devlish motioned everyone forward, not needing to speak to Murmur to understand what it was they needed to do. Working in sync, the entire raid began to move forward. Even Jirald and Risk cooperated. As the last group crested the downward path, the ground began to shudder, and the ice beneath their feet started to crack. Not in the same way that led to their icy slide, but somehow a more destructive way.
The groups couldn’t move fast enough as the cracks spread rapidly up the ice walls and into the ceiling they’d been underneath but moments before. As if detonated, the ceiling exploded outward, sending a rain of ice shards all over the ground and down the ramp, hitting numerous members of the raid in its path.
Blood spattered Murmur’s vision everywhere she looked. It mixed with ice shards that tumbled down what remained of the ramp they’d crested. She picked herself up from the base of the slope where she’d fallen and lost her footing, sliding on the ice to smash her head into the wall before she scrambled toward the injured raid, temples pounding.
The roaring still hadn’t stopped. It reverberated through her skull along with the ache that sat there since shit hit it. Sinister. She couldn’t see Sinister. The panic that had settled in her gut from being unable to find Snowy intensified tenfold at her inability to sight Sinister.
Around her, the entire raid was in chaos. At least half of each group was dead. Luckily the boss’s roaring hadn’t engaged them in combat, but the collapse had disoriented everyone anyway.
Devlish, bleeding from a nasty gash in his head where an icicle had managed to pierce just under the side of his protective helmet, took one look at Murmur and put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Go find her.”
He turned away immediately beginning to direct the raid on a recovery mission. With only two healers alive and one unaccounted for, it gave them only two useable resurrectors. Reorganization was going to take a while. Veranol had to take care of himself first, given that his bone was currently jutting out of his leg. Murmur had to force herself to walk past the wounded and dead and seek out the blood mage.
She knew she could leave the raid in the hands of her guild members. As long as the whatever-that-boss-was left them alone long enough.
“Can’t reach Ishwa,” she heard Masha call out, but made herself keep going anyway. She couldn’t resurrect. There was nothing she could help with until they needed to buff for combat.
Even the locator option attached to her group makeup couldn’t seem to assist her in finding the blood mage. The area around them was too unstable. Ice still creaked deep below where she walked, and she hoped the raid moved to a safer place while they recovered.
Mur? Jinna asked over guild chat.
What? She hoped she didn’t sound terse, but her lack of sleep and the warping of the dungeons wasn’t helping her mood.
These headsets are totally fucked up. Am I the only one who can still feel the wound that killed me? He sounded uncertain, and perhaps a little scared.
That’s normal, Murmur clarified for him. At least with this deeper connection, anyway.
Shit, Merlin piped in. I cannot believe I actually managed to avoid that death. First time for everything, right?
Shut up, Jinna admonished him. Your time will come.
Murmur grinned to herself at the banter but couldn’t help feeling uneasy about the fact that her friends were experiencing some of the side effects she herself had witnessed.
While Murmur continued her search, Devlish arranged for the survivors and newly resurrected to begin moving to the next broad cavern they could find. It was a relief that only Fable had the modified headsets, though she wouldn’t put it past other people to tinker with them too.
Murmur staggered as carefully as she could to the top of the ramp where the ice shattered and finally saw Sinister, or at least, her hand. She dangled desperately clinging to one of the jutting shards of ice that had previously been attached to the now-missing floor. Below her, about fifteen feet down, spikes and shards of ice poked haphazardly out of the rubble caused by the explosion. Biting down on her fear, Murmur lowered herself so that her stomach was resting on the ice.
Sinister’s health was so low that her innate regeneration wasn’t able to keep up with the obvious injuries that were leaking blood. It might be just a game to some people, but with the extended connection Fable had to the world, these injuries might as well have been real.
“Sin?” Murmur managed to croak out, proud of the fact that her voice didn’t break, much. But there was no answer, not even a raspy attempt. The blood mage appeared to be holding on with all her very last strength.
Dev. I need your Lariat. She spoke the words over guild, not wanting to alert anyone else.
He answered so fast it was as if he’d been waiting for a message. That bad? I’ll be right there. Veranol, take over.
Be careful. Murmur was worried that his weight would be too much. She’s not saying anything. I think she’s almost dead.
Murmur couldn’t believe how calm she was being, then she realized how much of an idiot she was. Pulling out one of her health potions she applied it to Sinister. It boosted her health by half because she wasn’t in combat, and the blood mage opened her eyes slowly.
“I’m an idiot.” She breathed out the words, and Sinister’s expression, though pained, seem to agree wholeheartedly with her. “You’ll need to accept Devlish’s duel so he can pull you out.”
Sinister didn’t move but managed to raise her other arm to cling with double desperation. The next thing she knew Devlish was up the opposite side of the wall, stepping delicately on what remained of the ramp. The duel began, and suddenly Sinister was flying toward the dread knight. She laughed in the air, tapping his health to heal herself.
“Thanks.” Sinister wheezed as her wounds began to close properly. “Okay. I am really not liking the realism aspect to pain I have now. Escapism isn’t supposed to feel real.”
Without thinking, Murmur gathered Sinister into her arms and twirled her around in a tight hug, burying her face in the blood mage’s neck. She even ignored the precarious cracking ice all around them. The urge to cry with relief swept over her, and all she wanted
to do was grab Sinister and hoard her away somewhere safe for both of them. “Sin, thought we’d lost you.”
Sinister pulled away and cocked an eyebrow at Murmur as she led her a dozen steps away from the bad ice. Then she leaned her head against Murmur’s own. “I would have just come back, silly. There’s no need to get so worked up about me, not in here.”
It was then that Murmur realized that, despite backstabbing rogues, crazy AIs, and thought sensing abilities—this was the safe space. Right here, anywhere in Somnia, was where they belonged and where they could be with each other. As Devlish quietly backed away, Murmur leaned just as Sin did and kissed her gently.
The touch of Sin’s lips ignited a fire through her core, and for just a few seconds every thought in Murmur’s head was devoted to Sinister. Just a kiss? Only a kiss, yet so much more. It reinvigorated her determination to keep this space safe for everyone who needed it.
Location Redacted
Brainwave Focus Study Laboratory
Subdivision of Military Brainwave Research Institution
Day Twenty-Eight
James flung the hard copy of the contract between the two companies across the room. Who even kept hard copies of shit these days? It was just clutter and led to disorganized hoarding.
He’d been so damn sure when he signed that contract, so confident. Everything he wanted to gain that would afford him the most promotions, the most bonuses. He wanted to blame the legal team, but the reality wasn’t lost on him. The whole program had been hush-hush. He’d not had a legal team with him; instead the division had relied on his own experience with contracts.
This whole set up had been his idea. He’d brought it to the higher ups, he’d negotiated with Michael, hashed out the terms of the agreement, largely in his own favor, and he hadn’t once thought to check over the terms after the fact.
His signature would easily be verified as legitimate by an expert. He’d signed the damned thing. This whole debacle was on him. His division head was going to kill him, and while in other workplaces such a threat might simply be figurative, he knew all too well just how literal it could be in his.
The inner tyrant in him wanted to fire everybody who’d been involved in not finding those clauses. And yet, he should’ve found them himself. Davenport was right, his infiltration of Storm Corp. had been a breach of contract. One which predated the breach James was accusing Storm of.
“Shit.” He bit the word out, angry at himself. After everything he’d sacrificed, everything he’d done in the name of this research, he’d quite literally shot himself in the foot without realizing it. They were going to hold him accountable. And his division wasn’t known for its generosity when it came to mistakes.
He picked the hard copy backup and threw himself into his desk chair to leaf through them again in the vain hope that Davenport’s legal team had missed something just as important.
But he was kidding himself. Even if he could find a way Storm Corp. had breached their portion of the contract, that breach had to have occurred before the one that James was responsible for. And since that happened even before the game launched, never mind how he’d become Shayla’s assistant, there was little hope of that. He’d been ordered into obtaining employment at Storm Corp. in the Storm Entertainment division. He’d been directed to do so by his current employer. And he had never ceased employment with the Military Brainwave Research Institution.
Not that his bosses would see it that way, but he did. They had their legal team go over the original contract he’d offered to Michael. James discussed several adjustments to the contract with him.
Racking his brains, he remembered Michael’s mutterings, usually dark and partially insane, and not always brilliant. Something about pursuant to the usual. Except James let himself get carried away. Instead of patting himself on the back prematurely, he should have paid more attention.
Once the contract was signed, it simply lived on the server with no real reason to look at it until recently. Breach of contract meant his employers would not get anything more than the information they had received, nor would they be able to obtain a refund on the monies invested due to the fact that the breach had been instigated by them.
All in all, it was probably the worst outcome they could’ve had. Unless he could figure out a way around it.
He toyed with one of the game headsets in his hand, twirling it around so its octopus-like fingers caught the light in different ways. Perhaps his best bet was to extract the information directly from the game himself. With a pod and a headset, surely he could break into the game’s coding and find out just what they were hiding from him. He’d set up his own false identity using military resources; he could handle the programming of one little headset.
Warning, you have received a debuff.
Movement isn’t an option.
For not moving through these caverns fast enough, you have been given a speed buff. However, if you stay still for more than thirty seconds at a time, you will receive a DoT that remains in effect until you have moved for another consecutive five seconds. It’s important to maintain your momentum. This debuff cannot be removed.
Murmur heard and felt the entire raid’s irritation. Sinister squeezed her hand tightly, her head resting against Murmur’s chest. She hadn’t let go since she’d been rescued. Murmur wasn’t about to argue. She squeezed Sin’s hand in return, trying to convey a sense of calmness through it, some reassurance.
Mur felt some of the tension drain out of Sin’s body, like she’d just been waiting for the okay to do so. Those damned headsets might lend them more control in the game, but the near death and dying experiences enhancements weren’t exactly benefits. There had to be a way to protect them all. She didn’t want to see anyone go through that again, even if they came back. Maybe that was the reason for the death mechanic. Make it horrific so you really try not to die.
Apparently, the explosion in the previous cavern had been a result of the raid moving too slowly as a whole. There was no way to let the rogues scout ahead anymore. Considering she’d almost lost Snowy the last time, that was probably a good thing.
They stood in a massive ice cavern, cautiously looking around to make sure the floor wasn’t about to give way. Each and every member of the raid moved. From side to side, back and forth, some of them paced…it was almost comical. She wondered if the company was streaming this for the entertainment of others.
Roars echoed through this cavern, louder now. Murmur could have sworn they sounded impatient. Due to the way sounds reverberated through the mountain, it was impossible to tell exactly which direction they originated from. The raid gathered up and rebuffed and got their supplies restocked.
Tieflos was unlike any other dungeon that she’d experienced. There were no riddles, no alternate ways to exit it, and no way to get rid of the debuffs that assisted them in some ways and yet assisted the dungeon in others.
“Guess we all need to keep moving,” Beastial said loud enough for everyone to hear. A few nervous chuckles greeted the statement, but even that allowed some of the tension to dissipate.
“Get into a rhythm, and don’t stop.” Dansyn danced a little jig, and this time the chuckled responses were less nervous.
Murmur appreciated her guild mates even more. “If you need to regenerate mana, don’t sit for more than twenty-five seconds at a time.”
Murmur ran over a few alternates in her head. “If you are desperate for mana, let me know and I can attempt to funnel it to you if we’re attacking anything with mana.”
There was a growl of tension spanning her connection with Snowy. It momentarily causing her to split focus. He was fine, he was alive, and he was apparently very angry. If she thought about it, so was she. There was nothing in this cavern for them to fight. In fact, it felt like they’d been given a staging room.
Don’t you have some measure of control over this damne
d world? She snapped the words, directing them anywhere she thought Somnia might be listening.
There was a brief pause before she received an answer. Of course I have some measure of control. How do you think Havoc got his new toy?
The frustration wouldn’t go away though. Anger bubbled just beneath the surface, despite Sinister’s proximity, which usually negated that. Murmur clenched her free fist as the guild lined up ready to move, double checking every surface by focusing intensity from her sensing nets on areas that might hide something due to the debuff they all shared. Then what the hell is with this dungeon? With this whole situation and the portals?
I understand where you’re coming from. But think of it like this. How do you feel if you catch a flu or strep? Not well, right? Unable to function at your optimum capabilities. Well, right now and until we get all of this sorted out, I am effectively infected with a virus. This allows me to function like I have a low-grade fever. Not everything I should be capable of is possible, because my illness is interfering. And that is exactly what you’re all helping me cure.
Well, when she put it that way, it made a lot more sense to Murmur. Anger seeped out just a little, downgrading from the fury she’d been approaching. It makes sense when you say it that way. I never thought about it in quite those parameters. Thanks for doing what you can.
You are welcome. If Murmur wasn’t mistaken, Somnia actually sounded pleased.
Moving in time with the raid, Murmur held on to Sinister’s hand, squeezing it gently for reassurance as they kept their guard up moving through the next corridor. It sloped gently downward in a spiral. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about all this was very wrong. Snowy’s constant irritation at whatever it was he’d found wasn’t helping her mood. His own feelings leaked through their tether, infecting her every thought before she knew what she was thinking.
The disconcerting side effect had some benefits. It left her second guessing everything she was shown. That first debuff made her think that perhaps there were portions of this dungeon being hidden from them for a reason. Why else would they have been given the benefit of remaining warm when otherwise them taking cold damage would have meant it more likely for the dungeon to defeat them?
