I look in the visor again and see the dragon inhaling, readying itself to destroy even more of the mountain fortress. I center the cross-hair and pull the trigger. The cannon fires with a deep explosion, rattling the entire tank and vibrating the teeth in my mouth. The shell blasts into the dragon's hide, and I see scales go flying. The creature lets loose a high-pitched screech into the air and almost falls off the wall, but it pulls itself back upright and narrows its eyes at me.
I reach down, my heart racing as I drop another shell into the chamber. I slide the door shut and grab the visor with both hands. The dragon's throat has already swelled, ready to let loose another load of burning bile, just as Cyren's cannon fires. Her shell slams into the inflated throat, and the balloon-like larynx pops open.
Liquid fire pours from the opening like molten lava. The dragon flails around, its wings flapping wildly as it uselessly claws at its own wound. It topples off the wall, falling over the cliff toward the ground far below. For a brief moment, I actually believe we've won, but the dragon comes swooping back over the wall, its throat still open, raw and exposed. I unload another shell, but it flies to the left, and the round harmlessly shoots off into the distance.
The dragon's head looks at both of us, back and forth, deciding which to attack. I dive for the shells, loading another into the chamber, then look back into the visor. The dragon is still floating above us, but I can see his eyes locked on Cyren's tank, the one that did so much damage. Without the ability to breath fire, the dragon resorts to a more brutal attack. It swoops down, landing right next to us, impacting the ground like a small bomb and shaking the tank. I unload another round, but it barely notices the annoying shell slam into its shoulder. The dragon lifts its clawed paw and swipes at Cyren's tank before she gets off another shot. The armored vehicle is thrown across the courtyard like a child's toy. It rolls over and over, eventually crashing against the far wall.
I see the dragon turn its attention toward me, and I pull myself away from the visor, trying to load yet another round into the chamber. Just when I'm about to drop the shell into the doorway, the tank rolls over. Up becomes down, and my body is slamming against every side of the interior. The boxes of shells spill everywhere, and my world continues to spin. My arms are bent in unnatural positions, and my legs are pinned under the weight of a computer display torn from the wall. When the tank stops rolling, I can't pull myself free from the debris inside.
100011
I lift my left arm, pain striking through my shoulder and into my neck, and I gesture in the air, opening Fantom's video-cast window. She's hiding in the control room, searching the video screens for something, anything to use against the dragon.
Ekko is screaming in my ear, “Are you guys okay? Is anyone still alive? Talk to me. Someone. Please.”
I feel some kind of relief when I hear Cyren's voice say, “I'm here. But my tank is upside down. I can't get the turret to move. I'm not firing again anytime soon.”
I grunt, trying to speak, but I only manage to say, “I... can't.”
There's a pause, and it lingers. The silence in the group chat goes on for far too long, and I suspect no one knows what to do. I have a feeling anyone still able to move is considering how far they could get if they just ran away. I think this because it's what I would be considering.
Then I hear Xen's voice. Of course it's Xen's voice. “There's one vehicle left. And it's all mine.”
Fantom and Ekko are yelling at him. They're telling him to stay hidden. They're telling him that he'll never make it. They're telling him that it's suicide to even try. But I don't waste my breath. Xen isn't going to listen.
Fantom runs to the window and looks down on the courtyard. Through her video-cast, I can see the tiny monk in the orange wrappings running as fast as he can to the small landing pad of the fighter jet. The dragon sees him and stomps his feet toward what must look to the creature like an insignificant bug. I watch Xen scurry through burning pits of fire and decimated landscape, moving his legs as fast as they will go, but it's not enough.
I feel detached. The screen makes it all feel unreal, like it isn't actually happening just outside of the tank.
The dragon gets closer and leans back on its hind legs, ready to pounce forward and squash the little man with one clawed foot. It stretches out its paw, the sharp talons gleaming in the firelight, when a small explosion ignites on its back. The dragon turns, annoyed, and another explosion hits its chest. Fantom searches for the source of the attack and finally turns her view toward the lookout tower where Ekko is positioned. The wooden boy launches another grenade, this time striking the dragon in the side of its head. The beast lets out a roar of anger and moves toward Ekko, ignoring Xen's race across the courtyard.
“Ekko! What are you doing?” Fantom yells into the chat channel. “It's coming right for you, yo!”
“I see that,” he grunts. “And I'm out of grenades.”
The wooden boy backs away from the dragon, pressing himself against the far wall of the box on top of the tower. I can see him looking over the side, wondering if he could survive the jump, but his hesitation takes too long. The dragon spins its entire body, lashing its elongated tail at the tower. The huge appendage smashes into the concrete with a thick wallop, crumbling the stone, and turning the top of the structure into a cloud of dust and debris. The spotlight explodes, sending sparks and glass spraying in every direction. I close my eyes, waiting to hear the game announce Ekko's death.
But nothing comes.
I open one eye, then the other, and as the cloud of dust and debris fades in the wind, I see the flickering image of Ekko floating in midair, as if he were still crouched down inside the box on top of the lookout tower. He keeps flickering, then shifts to the side, then back again, stuck in some kind of bandwidth lag.
The game didn't register the strike against him.
When his connection catches back up with the world, his solid image drops onto the crumbled tower only a few feet below him.
“You lucky son of a-”
Fantom cuts me off, yelling, “He made it, yo!” as the view of the video-cast spins back toward Xen, who is now lowering the canopy over the cockpit of the jet.
The dragon has returned his attention to the tiny monk, but as it stomps its way back across the fortress, Xen is already starting the engine of the jet and lifting off from the ground.
I hear him repeating, “Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow,” as the plane lifts high above the ledge, out of the dragon's reach.
The creature tries to swipe at the jet, standing tall on its hind legs, but as soon as the dragon tries to lift itself into the air, Xen turns the engines forward and pierces the clouds like a rocket-powered arrowhead. The dragon roars and flaps its wings faster, pushing itself higher into the air. It dives down off the cliff to pick up speed. When it swoops back up, it chases after Xen.
Another window opens next to Fantom's video-cast, this one showing the inside of a cockpit.
“I can not believe this,” Xen says. “This is seriously amazing. I have never felt such a... such a thrill!”
His voice is shaking. His adrenalin is fueling every movement. He pushes forward on the stick and the jet dives back toward the mountains. He pulls back and does a barrel roll, spinning into the air. Drumbeats pound in my ears, accompanied by an electric guitar and a woman's screeching vocals. I cringe when I realize he's given himself a soundtrack.
I yell at the screen, “Xen! You need to take this seriously. You might be our only hope of taking this thing down.”
“I know!” He turns down the volume on the music and says more calmly, “Sorry. I have... I have got this. Trust me.” The jet banks to the right and curves back around toward us. “But now I no longer see the dragon.”
“You have to like, use your radar, yo.”
I watch the video-cast viewpoint tilt down toward the wall of controls wrapped around him. In the center is a small green circle with a line spinning around it. As the line passes the b
ottom of the circle, a small blip appears.
“There,” I yell at the window, “it's behind you.”
Xen turns in his seat and looks out the back of the glass canopy surrounding the cockpit. The red body of the dragon bursts out of a cloud above and behind the jet.
“Son, you need to keep your speed up,” Ekko says. “It doesn't have its fire breath anymore, so it'll need to attack you with its claws-”
“Or tail,” Fantom interjects.
“Right,” Ekko continues. “If you can keep the jet away from it-”
Ekko is cut off by a scraping noise, and the jet wobbles in the air. Xen turns around again and sees long claw marks down one of the wings. He looks down at the throttle on his side and pushes it forward. The whine of the engines grow, and the clouds whip past even faster.
“He needs to get that dragon in front of him,” I say, “where he can actually use his weapons.”
“It's going to be hard,” Ekko adds. “The dragon can't match his speed, but it makes up for that with its maneuverability.”
Xen banks to the left and does a barrel roll. He yanks back on the control stick, pulling the nose up until the jet is flying upside down. He keeps pulling back until the plane has flipped around and is pointing downward. The dragon tries to follow him, but it can't pick up the same kind of speed as it climbs into the air. It stops and turns toward the jet, but now Xen is aimed right at the giant beast.
“How am I doing?” Xen asks.
“Good!” Ekko yells. “Now fire your guns!”
The dual rotary cannons mounted on the nose of the jet spit out tracer rounds, each one lighting up as they spray across the sky. The dragon flails in mid-air as each bullet strikes its body, tearing another hole into its thick hide. Holes open in its giant wings, and the dragon flops in the sky, barely able to keep itself afloat. But Xen flies straight at the beast, unloading both cannons, turning the barrels white hot as they throw death at the monster. He gets closer and closer until I realize he isn't going to turn.
Ekko beats me to it, screaming, “Don't get so close to-”
It's too late. As Xen closes in on the dragon, it turns to the side and tears its claws into one of the wings as the jet passes. Xen spins, rolls through the sky, and then yanks on the stick, forcing the plane to right itself. It still waivers, but he gains his control back over the machine.
“Wow,” he says. “That was too close.”
100100
“You need to keep your distance,” I say. “Use your missiles. They should be able to lock-on to the dragon's heat signature.”
“And like... you damaged it's wings,” Fantom says. “That should make it easier to outmaneuver, yo.”
Xen looks down at his radar and banks the jet, turning around to make another run at the dragon. When he gets the small blip in front of him, he looks back out his canopy and sees the dragon try to lift itself higher into the air, but it's struggling. Its neck is outstretched, pointing straight up.
Xen pushes the stick forward and dives, but when he gets closer to the dragon, he pulls back up, coming at the beast from below, where it isn't looking. He flips open a switch on his control stick and activates his missiles. A targeting display appears on the glass of the canopy, and Xen adjusts his climb so that the tiny square matches up with his cross-hair. When they do, both icons turn red, and he hears a beeping noise.
“Goodbye.”
Two missiles fire from each wing, spiraling through the air, straight at the dragon. It doesn't see them coming, and when they hit, they cause an explosion much bigger than I was expecting. Boiling flames and rolling smoke erupt in a giant ball of fatality, the concussive blast shaking the jet. Xen continues toward the detonation, waiting to see how much damage he has done. As he climbs closer to the black smoke, it begins to fade, and he can see the dragon's body, blown apart and falling in pieces. A leg falls in one direction, and an arm falls in another, but the main body comes streaming out of the smoke straight at the jet.
He pulls back on the throttle and yanks the control stick to the right, but the dragon's eyes open wide, and it reaches out for the jet with the only arm it still has attached. Its frayed wings furiously wave in the air, pushing it toward Xen. For a second I think he's banking enough to get out of the way, but at the last moment the dragon pushes forward and manages to wrap its claws around the nose of the jet. This gives it something to pull on, and its broken body is yanked closer, allowing it to sink its teeth into the already damaged wing. The weight of the dragon pulls the plane down, and soon the cityscape of DangerWar 2 is rushing straight at the nose of the jet.
The dragon's tail curls up and pierces through one of the engines. It yanks the tip of the appendage free, then jams it into the plane again, this time breaking into the cockpit. The huge pointed tail bursts right through the controls and slices off one of Xen's legs.
“Eject!” Fantom yells. “Eject!”
Xen grabs the yellow lever next to his seat and yanks on it, but the lever breaks free from the console, damaged by the dragon's tail. He remains sealed inside the cockpit, rushing toward the ground.
The entire group is screaming, but I can't hear them over my own voice. I'm yelling something, but it's unintelligible. I'm babbling nonsense and barely forming words. I can see Xen's death approaching, and there's nothing I can do about it. I lay there, on the floor of the tank, watching it all happen in the small window of his video-cast.
The buildings grow in size. Xen isn't screaming in pain. He stops wrestling with the control stick, and gives up trying to make it react to his movements. When the plane roars past the top of a skyscraper, Xen unloads the rest of his missiles. All six of them fire from his wings, but at the speed he's going, they race right next to him, straight at the street he's pointed toward. I realize that he's trying to cause the biggest explosion he can. If he's going to die, he's going to make sure that dragon dies with him.
As the street gets so close that I can see the details of the cars, I hear Xen say something, and though his voice is moderate and calm, I can still hear it clearly over the burst of the jet engines, the roar of the dragon clinging to his plane, and the screams of my group members.
“Don't worry, Kade. I'm just happy that I got to play with you.”
And then the video-cast window turns to static.
I hear the explosion in the distance. It sounds faint, just a low rumble. Fantom's video-cast is at the southern window of the control tower, looking out toward the city. A skyscraper is toppling over, and a pillar of smoke is growing into the sky.
I close the video-cast and turn off group chat. I have nothing to say. There's nothing I could say, even if I wanted to. There's nothing anyone could say. I don't want to hear anyone's voice. I want silence, but all I hear is the constant ringing of a seeming endless supply of Koins being dumped into my inventory. I can barely hear the announcer's voice over the sound effect.
“Party member Xen has died.”
I don't cry. I can't even breathe. The emptiness I feel inside of my chest doesn't allow it. I close my eyes and try to put myself somewhere else. I want to be anywhere else. At that moment, I'd even take the real world over where I am. I wish there was another virtual world that I could log into. I wish I could go even deeper inside myself, some place that no one else could go. Some place where no one could touch me. Some place no one could hurt me. I want to curl up so small that I implode into a black hole where not even light could exist.
I hear the announcer say, “Congratulations, you have killed The Great Demon of the Darkfyre Mountains,” but I could care less.
I didn't kill anything but my friend.
So when he says, “Welcome to Level 23. Welcome to Level 24. Welcome to Level 25. Welcome to Level 26. Welcome to Level 27. Welcome to Level 28,” and doesn't stop until I finally hear, “Welcome to Level 49,” I get no pleasure from my sudden rise in power.
I lay in the tank for what feels like hours, but the game clock tells me it's a little under twe
nty minutes. I never turn the group chat back on, so when the hatch above me opens, it's surprising. I look up into the light shining through the hole, and I see Cyren's face peering down at me. She looks worried, forcing an encouraging smile toward me. She climbs inside and lifts the computer console off of my legs.
“You should have chosen strength,” she says, trying to be lighthearted, but I don't reply. She looks at me, her eyes shaking in their sockets, and says, “I'm sorry, Arkade.” She looks away and says again, “I'm so, so sorry.”
She helps me to my feet, exerting most of the effort to get me upright. Surprisingly, my legs don't hurt. I'm able to climb out of the tank without much strain, though it takes mental effort that I'm not sure I possess anymore. When I get outside, the fortress around me looks decimated. Walls are crumbling, fires still burn, and the bodies of NPC avatars are strewn about like debris. Fantom and Ekko are staring up at me, waiting for some kind of reaction, but I give none. I am stone.
Ekko speaks first, trying to push past the obvious topic and get straight to the point.
“We need to rest. We should-”
“No,” I say, cutting him off. “I want to get this over with. I want to find this 'Grael,' and I want to figure out a way to save Xen.”
“Do you think you can still save him?” Ekko asks, and I see Fantom slap his arm. “What? I'm just asking. How do we know-”
“Because I know,” I say with a stern tone, speaking through my clenched jaw.
Ekko opens his mouth to say something, but I'm already walking away, toward the other gate. I pass the bodies of the NPCs, but I can't look at them. Even though they're only part of the game, they look too real. They just make me think of Xen's avatar. And then I realize his avatar doesn't even exist. The explosion would have disintegrated it. Xen isn't in the game world, or the real world. He's stuck somewhere in between.
Level Zero Page 17
