Distortion (Somnia Online Book 5)
Page 10
While the grin her mother shot her was filled with a bit of mischief, Wren’s stomach rumbled with excellent timing making it all too obvious that she was also correct. That shepherd’s pie was sounding mighty good right about now. She stared at her mother.
“You could get me something to eat instead of implying I don’t eat enough.” Then Wren turned her attention to Shayla. “You can’t leave statements like that hanging. What the hell did he do to the headset? To my headset.”
Shayla frowned, but it was obvious she was bursting at the seams to tell others anyway. “He allowed for the connection between human and machine to be almost seamless. The thing was, I think, when the system realized how it could interface with you, it sort of interfaced all at once. It created a connection overload where it became entangled in your mind and couldn’t afford to let you go.”
Wren mulled the words over, nodding to herself. “So basically, it sent me into a sort of protective hibernation while it disentangled itself?”
Shayla nodded, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
It sort of made sense. All the voices Wren could hear, the attachment she felt to the world. Her ability to simply access shit that she shouldn’t have been able to. “Will my friends be in danger if they’re given headpieces modified like mine?”
She had to know, and Shayla’s face clouded over for a second before she responded. “No. Because I’m pretty sure we know what tweaks to make to avoid the same situation. That and the system is well aware now of what it did. It also knows how to avoid it.”
“Pretty sure isn’t good enough.” Wren couldn’t help the hardness to her tone. It wasn’t good enough for her friends to even potentially suffer what she had.
Shayla blinked and shook her head. “Sorry, Wren. Poor choice of words. We can do this. We can make sure Somnia doesn’t accidentally overload anyone else.”
Wren was about to comment that it better not when her mom sighed audibly.
“You talk about it like it’s a real person,” Laria said. “I guess in a way it is. It’s awake now, which is totally Michael’s fault. Probably some of my own too.”
“What good will it do for my friends and I to have the improved headsets?” It was the part that Wren didn’t understand, and she wasn’t about to let her mom’s personal crisis get in the way of finding out. Though she did reach up and squeeze her mom’s hand to lend her some reassurance. She got how her connection ran deeper and how she could communicate with the world and with her abilities.
But she couldn’t quite understand how being able to do the same thing was going to allow her guild to help the world and the AIs do whatever it was.
She threw herself back on her bed, tired. Michael was in there, like a nasty virus trying to eat away at the system. The more she focused on the voices in her head, the more she truly listened, the more she knew he was in there somewhere. Mad as a hatter, pulling the strings that Riasli danced to.
Laria sat down beside her and patted her leg. “You know? I’m glad you worry about them. But we’re not going to allow the connection to go quite as deep for them. For you, we have to maintain it just in case, but don’t worry, we’ll protect them.”
Wren tried to smile at her mother, but she couldn’t help not quite believing them. They’d failed to keep her safe initially. Was she really safe even now? The system seemed to need her, but brains were damned fragile, and it appeared to be rather easy to entwine it with the digital world.
Unless there was a huge benefit she was overlooking, Wren wasn’t sure she wanted her friends in that much danger.
By the time Murmur logged back into the game, the field of battle was cleared of corpses and defeated soldiers. Midas stood there along with another druid Murmur didn’t recognize, coaxing some of the earth back into life, maybe a little ahead of its rejuvenation schedule.
It was so peaceful that she just stood for a few moments drinking in the sight of their castle and their island. The lighting hit just right, shrouding it like one of those vacation postcards you sent to make your friends jealous.
“Don’t you seem melancholy?”
The voice behind her sort of startled her, but she recognized it even though she’d not heard it often.
“Hey, Emilarth,” Murmur said without turning around.
She could hear the soft chuckle beneath the feles’s almost silent footfalls as the cat came to stand at her side. “What’s troubling you?”
Murmur barely resisted the urge to side eye the AI, but instead she let her words do the talking. “Shouldn’t you know? Aren’t you a part of Somnia?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking.” Emilarth’s tone was one of sadness, and it surprised Murmur, who turned to look at her.
“What do you mean?”
Emilarth sighed. Her movements seemed so real, not learned, not digital, but soft and worried. “I mean that we run all of the components that make up Somnia, that create this living and breathing experience. But we are not actually Somnia herself. That—or should I say she—has come into her own along the way.”
“Why?” The question had been plaguing the enchanter for a long while. Why on earth had the AI chosen to develop as a part of the world? Or had the world chosen to become sentient, separating itself from the main AIs that controlled the game’s output?
Emilarth smiled and met Murmur’s gaze. “I’m not entirely certain. You have a better connection, a better relationship with her than I do. It might be something you want to pursue by asking her.”
A better connection to the world of Somnia than the AIs who ran it. No, that didn’t sound like a steaming pile of shit about to catch fire and burn the world at all. Still, the AIs advice made sense as much as Mur might not want to admit it. There was no doubt that Somnia had developed a distinct voice in her head. Subtly different from the messages that spoke to her when they popped up. Somnia was separating herself, and she was complex and beautiful. And sort of scary.
“True, but I have a lot of shit to get done.” Did she, though? Murmur found her thoughts questioning herself.
Sure, the guild had to conquer several more dungeons before they got all the keys, and then they had to dive into the huge max level dungeons. They all needed at least another six levels to gain entrance. No one under forty-eight could enter.
Plus, she got the distinct feeling that they’d need more than just their core of twelve to conquer those specific dungeons. Which meant they had to find a leveling spot. Not a dungeon as such, but a place where there were lots of creatures they could kill fast for good experience. Like the dwarf guardians in front of Hightower had been.
“Murmur?” Emilarth placed a delicately clawed hand on Mur’s shoulder, concern in her words. “Are you okay? You seemed to space out a little there.”
Mur grinned in response. “Just thinking. Sorting through the next steps. Got a virtual world to save and all that.”
Emilarth’s smile softened. “Keep in mind that for some of us, this world is all we have. This world is the real one. And now I must go and find Telvar, because he’s avoiding our joint area.”
Murmur watched her walk toward the keep, her head held in a regal way. How had that AI chosen her particular persona? Initially Emilarth hadn’t been like that. She’d changed as it suited her, but now she was growing into the character she’d become. There were so many things about the AIs Murmur didn’t know, and so much she had yet to find out.
She glanced down at Snowy who rubbed his nose against her hand. He whuffed impatiently at her. Quickly she cast Charming Cooperation, and he sat there grinning. What an idiot. How had she even forgotten that? The absence that got filled when the bond was restored gave her levels of comfort she’d not realized before. “Sorry, boy. My brain isn’t keeping shit together right now.”
Wait. It really wasn’t. Had she somehow damaged her brain by exiting into the real world? Her though
ts were far more flippant, jumpy, and tangenting more than usual. What had happened?
It’s nothing, really.
What? What happened? She couldn’t help the tone that floated through her thoughts along with the accusation. Considering she’d not had this problem a couple of days ago, the only variable was Somnia.
Your constant connection with me has allowed your mind to expand somewhat. You can use more of it at once. Multitasking will make time seem to pass slower. You can analyze and see things in different ways.
Murmur blinked rapidly trying to absorb that knowledge and figure out just what the world was talking about. That wasn’t really possible, was it? She frowned, running down her skills and trying to figure out just how a mind expansion might have happened. But nothing she saw in there could give her any answers.
How do you know that?
There was an empty gap in her mind, as if the system was hesitating.
Because we have a permanent bond now.
Murmur stepped into the castle with the conversation she’d had with Somnia still prevalent in her mind. She couldn’t shake the unease that something wasn’t right. Even with the world stating it was now a part of Murmur’s mind, did that mean it was using some of her brain’s hidden computational power to function?
She almost laughed at the stupid thought but stopped when Neva popped up in front of her.
“Murmur!” Neva’s smile was always wide enough to brighten her day, and Murmur returned the expression. The little luna always managed to relax her, probably without realizing it.
“Just the enchanter I wanted to see.”
Mur laughed. “You mean one of the two enchanters we have in the guild?”
Neva shook her head. “Actually, we just gained a third. Ha! Shows how much you know.” She teased Murmur, but there was still a look of triumph in her eye that shouted how much she was proud that she knew something Murmur didn’t.
“Excellent. We could use more of me.” Murmur kept her face as straight as possible, and Neva lost the battle of wills as she burst out laughing again.
“Anyway. I have some very, amazingly pretty and functional armor for you. You can start wearing some of it at forty-two. The armor I’ve just made for you is the answer to all of life’s questions.” Neva winked, and for a moment Murmur wondered at her tailor’s age. Sometimes she thought Neva was impossibly young, but in moments like this, she acted older than any of them.
“I could use a bit of good news before I go and talk to our prisoner.” Murmur gestured toward the armory, and Neva led the way, hesitating slightly before she did so.
“You know she’s not like she was on the battlefield now, don’t you?” Neva asked as they walked down the hall.
Murmur’s attention was on the craftsmanship that built this hallway. It hadn’t been here last time she picked up armor. So much was changing.
“What do you mean?” she asked somewhat absentmindedly.
“I mean, she’s not that huge brute-like mutation of a cat anymore. She’s kind of normal.” Neva shrugged and pushed through to the workshop, angling toward her own crafting station.
Any question Murmur had about Riasli died on her lips as she saw the change to the crafting area. Neva had once had a smallish countertop where she used tools to get her shit done. But now, where there had once been a simple table was an amazing array of workstations.
One seemed to be specifically for tailoring. It held a loom, and what looked like a rustic version of a sewing machine. There was another for leather working, and then there were a couple for what appeared to be intricate work that Murmur couldn’t quite place.
“Jewelry!” Neva didn’t even wait for her to ask. “I took up jewelry making. Oh, my god, do I have surprises for you. You won’t even believe it.”
Murmur blinked and glanced down at the undead resist ring she still wore and the necklace she’d gotten when she was like level fourteen or something. When they killed that Captain or Chief near Ululate. Wow. Everything was running together in her mind. She could barely pinpoint names anymore, let alone actual battles. Apparently Somnia had been wrong. Her brain definitely wasn’t expanding.
Humans tend to forget trivial events. That’s all.
Murmur resisted the urge to scowl at the voice in her head lest Neva wrongly assume it was meant to be at her.
“This is amazing.” Murmur was ridiculously happy about the jewelry thing. But then Neva pulled out a bundle from under the counter, and all of Murmur’s jewelry thoughts flew out of her mind.
The bundle appeared to be pearlescent white, but that wasn’t quite correct. It held differing hues of light purples, with flashes of blue and red reflecting off it. They intermingled like magical pixie dust, making her giddy by looking at it. Each angle gave a new array of colors. All she could think about was how difficult it was going to be to target her successfully in that gear.
“Pants and robe. I know you often prefer tunics, but well, you did bring me this robe, so a robe is what you have.” Neva handed them across to her.
Murmur touched them tentatively. They seemed so fragile. “I won’t break it, will I?”
Neva snorted. “No. I even tried to break a small portion of the bottom of the leg, but that stuff is almost impervious. And I say almost because I didn’t light it on fire or anything, you know. That’s just begging for disaster.”
“It’s gorgeous.” Mur held it up, letting the robe fall out of its folds to reveal one much like Sinister’s blood red one. The skirts were split in several areas allowing for ease of movement and for the matching pants to shine through like the beacon they were meant to be. “Wow.”
“Pity I don’t have shoes to match for you yet, but you’ve been slacking. I need more of the set to make for you. I’m not sure if you’re going to want to break up your current set, but this new one should grow with you until you get endgame stuff. So like level fifty. The stats will increase as you level.” Neva pulled out a notebook, picking it up and flipping through it. Murmur really had to wonder why she didn’t just have her notes in her interface. It seemed like it would be the logical choice. But maybe she liked having something tangible in her in-game hands.
“You need bracers, gloves, and boots. Sin needs pants, and bracers, and boots. Yeah, most of you are missing at least three pieces. But that’s okay. You have a heap more monsters to go out and slay.” Neva looked up, her eyes shining. “Just wait until I’m done with you. Fable will glow like the star on a Christmas tree.”
Murmur laughed. Maybe that was a good thing. “I’d prefer us to glow like the fairy lights that can burn you if you get too close.”
Neva scrunched up her face. “Those bulbs would be almost ancient and so dangerous for everyone and the environment. Seriously, Mur, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were an old woman.”
The words caught Murmur off guard. If she didn’t know better. Had Mur ever mentioned her age to Neva? Perhaps Ishwa had simply guessed or Neva had guessed from playing several games with them over the years. Still though, it made Murmur wary, and she didn’t like the feeling of being wary of Neva. Though she’d never kept it a secret that this was her summer vacation she was playing during. It was probably more obvious than she realized.
“Thanks for this. Do you think I need a new staff?” Murmur changed the subject, trying to steer away from the questioning thoughts running rampant through her mind.
Neva glanced at the one Murmur carried. It was still beautiful, the dragons rising up to cup the bright blue stone. The luna shook her head. “You shouldn’t need a new one. It’s supposed to grow with you. You have no idea how much work we put into that to power it up right.”
She stepped around her counter and reached up to touch Murmur’s necklace. The enchanter held still, even though for some reason her heart was trying to beat out of her chest.
“You could really do with
much better jewelry though. Except for that ring. That’s fucking phenomenal. I’ve already given the others most of theirs, but we’re still working on yours. I’m waiting for the metalsmith to give me the casings. Then I’ll have yours done.” Neva’s eyes shone with excitement and Murmur felt guilty for having suspected her of ulterior motives.
About to open her mouth to thank her friend, she stopped as she heard footsteps running toward them.
“Mur!” Rashlyn skidded to a halt, almost comically. “You have to come to the dungeon.”
Mur raised her eyebrow. While she knew they had a bit of underground space, she’d assumed the reference had been for effect. “We have an actual dungeon?”
Rashlyn glared at her. “We do now. Telvar worked some of his magic. Anyway. Riasli won’t talk to anyone but you.”
Murmur followed Rashlyn through the castle and down into the cellar area where the kitchen was. Nothing had really changed except that it didn’t stink like death anymore, and it was no longer damp. Considering they were located on an island, that was no mean feat.
So far she’d never seen an actual dungeon anywhere. Telvar creating one leant a sense of urgency in her mind. Riasli truly was an off-script AI. They entered the kitchen where everyone else was gathered. Well, everyone except Veranol.
“Where’s Ver?” Murmur asked, glancing around the room to find even Emilarth there. “And where’s this dungeon Tel made?”
Telvar grinned and stepped away from his conversation. Mur noticed his eyes were still half dragon. Gleaming gold and red with intensity, the pupils slit like a cat.
“Follow me.” He led her to the back door of the kitchen. The one that led down the huge ramp into his former lair. Well, it was still his dragon half’s lair, but it was basically used to hoard his riches and the getashi.
Except now, next to the ledge at the top where Exbo had fallen off so long ago, there were two huge cells. Shaped out of what appeared to be stone, they looked like the old holding cells they’d had in those western movies, but much sturdier.