Kogan dodged, swinging his mace with a grunt of exertion. The flanged head; as big as a washing machine, whiffed the air as Viper rolled under it. Low and inside of Kogan’s reach, the axes searched for joints in the gleaming white armor. A swirling cyclone of blows clanged and rattled Kogan’s torso. Kogan raised an iron fist, and golden light encased Viper.
Viper stopped moving. He was stunned; trapped in a cage of holy energy. Kogan stepped back, drew the mace behind him, and screamed with fury as he poured all of his vengeance and righteous anger into a vicious swing.
Northern Plains
Wisp sprinted through the tall grass in a world filled with smoke and noise. Cannons barked around him. Machine guns spewed yellow tracers into the sky. Somewhere above, Christine was screeching. The air reeked of ozone and burnt metal.
He ran across the huge circle of vehicles. His cloak made him invisible, but it was probably unnecessary. All eyes tilted skyward, searching for a fire-breathing attacker.
Men scrambled from a nearby Stryker, and spread in a defensive ring. In the center of this ring a soldier hefted a boxy tube to his shoulder: a missile launcher. Wisp had been correct in his assumption that the Marines would prepare for an aerial threat in a world filled with dragons. Even in this ridiculous environment, contingencies would be taken seriously and planned for.
Ramar’s Fang chuckled in morbid anticipation when Wisp unsheathed the dark blade. He picked up speed, prepared to strike.
A soldier noticed the black dagger bobbing in the air and shouted a warning. He raised his rifle and was soon joined by the other soldiers protecting the rocket. A staccato storm of bullets shredded the air.
Wisp blinked himself directly behind one soldier, breaking his cloak’s effect and appearing out of thin air. He buried the dagger in the soldier’s back and drew the Spark Katana. The soldier with the rocket launcher backpedaled, but a series of bright slashes cut him down.
The remaining soldiers turned and fired, but Wisp vanished again. He reappeared behind another Marine, wrapping a garrote tightly around his neck. The man dropped to his knees, clutching at his throat, and his allies brought their rifles to bear. “Check fire! Check fire!” Helmets swung left and right as the confused Marines searched for their target, careful to avoid hitting each other.
Wisp drove Ramar’s Fang into a soldier’s collarbone before the man even knew he was there. The soldier grunted in surprise and slumped forward. A savage kick sent the Marine back toward his fellow soldiers. Wisp rolled forward as the Marines backed away from him, and ducked under a rapid burst of fire to stab another soldier in the stomach. He grabbed the man’s weapon - a light machine gun - and disappeared in a white flash.
…
“Basset Eight Stinger team has taken heavy casualties. Our launcher is neutralized. We have an enemy on the ground.” The voice that crackled in Fischer’s earpiece was stressed and urgent. He raised his field glasses and peered across the ring of vehicles.
Marines swung their weapons fearfully as they crouched with their backs against Basset Eight. Bloody grass at their feet was strewn with a pile of armor and weapons from fallen soldiers.
There was a tinge of annoyance in White’s voice when he responded, “What is the status of the enemy?”
“He disappeared, sir. He took our LMG and vanished. He looked like a ninja.”
“Did you say a ninja, Marine?”
The soldier hesitated before responding, “Yes, sir.”
“Get that Stinger in the air immediately!” White barked. “All troops dismount and protect the rocket team from a… ninja. Enemy is now armed with one of our weapons.”
Screaming metal and heat forced Fischer to shield his face instinctively. When he lowered his arm, he saw the dragon tearing into another Stryker and pouring a cone of flame into a molten rift in the vehicle’s hull. This was the third Stryker to fall. Over ten percent of their forces were gone now thanks to a dragon, an old man… and a ninja.
Circling the Strykers had been a mistake; their turrets could not elevate to reach targets directly above them, and the circle was tight enough that the dragon could hover high in the air without being struck by heavy fire. Thick scales and the mage’s infuriating shield were enough to stop the heavy machine gun bullets from the more flexible .50 caliber guns that the some of Strykers carried. Their only hope now was to start sending up missiles, or land a lucky blow with an AP round from one of the Stryker’s cannons.
…
Invisible once more, Wisp sprinted across the open ground toward the other rocket launcher. Ramps dropped to the grass on all sides of him, and soldiers poured out with guns ready. Taking out this rocket would be a bit tougher. He was not confident in his ability to use the machine gun slung over his back.
Soldiers shouted and raised their rifles. Wisp looked down, and realized he was visible. His cloak had worn off. He froze, and held his breath.
After several seconds he was still not full of holes; the Marines had not fired. He turned around and peered at the gun barrels pointed at him from all angles. Some soldiers shifted their feet nervously. They could not fire at Wisp because other Marines were positioned directly behind him. Any stray bullets would cross the circle and hit friendly soldiers on the other side. A man took a step forward and motioned for Wisp to lay down. He shouted something, but his words were drowned by the boom of cannons and the drone of dragon wings.
The Marine holding the rocket raised the tube and tilted it upward. Above them, Christine’s wingbeats droned as she zoomed in for another attack run. Three smoking hulks demonstrated the effectiveness of these attacks. Wisp, out of options, drew his blades and charged.
Marines on his right flank opened fire in short, controlled bursts. Wisp’s blades flashed and repelled the bullets, singing a metallic song. He continued to sprint - a storm of steel and leather flinging bullets in every direction. With a grunt, he dove forward.
White smoke billowed from the rocket launcher, and a missile took flight. Less than a second later, the Spark Katana cut the soldier down. Wisp jumped over the loading ramp of the nearest Stryker and rolled across the hull. After dropping to the other side, he crouched in the shadow of a massive tire. He sheathed his sword and dagger, unslung the machine gun, and raised his eyes, searching for Christine and Bishop.
The Arena
Viper’s helmet rolled to a stop against the arena wall. There were no cheers or taunts from the crowd, only stunned silence. This was not what they expected; they came for a good fight, not a one-sided massacre.
Viper struggled to get to his feet. The left side of his face was plastered in blood and sand. Kogan casually strode over to him and swung Sentinel low in an upward arc. Viper was caught in the chest and lifted in the air. He flipped on his back, and sluggishly rolled away from a downward smash that would have crushed him flat. Viper staggered to his feet in time to catch a tremendous strike on his shoulder. He was driven to his knees; blood spattered the sand around him.
Kogan grabbed Viper’s arm and dragged him across the arena floor. Viper struggled weakly against Kogan’s armored grip. When Kogan reached his shield, he jerked Viper to the ground, wrenching his arm and pulling bright feathers from their sockets on Viper’s forearm.
Viper crawled in the sand, grasping for the stray feathers, blood dripping around him. He clutched at the feathers, ignoring all else.
Kogan bent to pick up his shield, and Sentinel shrank to its former size. He studied Viper as he walked over to finish the fight. Growing regret replaced the rage inside him. Kogan had long whetted his anger and hatred, keeping them keen and sharp for this moment. He was about to have his victory, but he found no satisfaction as he approached his fallen foe. Kogan felt the same emptiness he had felt when Viper betrayed him.
“I’m sorry,” Viper whispered. He was not looking at Kogan. He was staring at the feathers. They were frayed and covered in sand and blood; he held them as if they were precious stones.
“Maybe you are. But it�
�s too late for that.” Kogan frowned. He hefted the shield, the same shield he had worn when Viper betrayed him. He raised Sentinel, the same mace he had wielded when Viper stabbed him in the heart. He hesitated.
…
Kogan roared, and Viper felt a sudden shock as he was pushed down. There was a harsh crack and a frightening clang, as if a church bell had been dropped on his head. Viper was jerked harshly to his knees, and Kogan’s shield slammed into the sand in front of him - a wall of white.
“Don’t move!” Kogan growled. Another crack pierced the air and the shield rang. A bulge formed in the shield; something had almost penetrated the thick metal.
Viper felt warmth and saw golden light. He shook his head as the bleeding stopped. The ringing in his ears, a symptom of being smashed around the arena repeatedly, went away. Kogan was healing him - slowly returning his strength and senses.
The crowd was shouting in anger. Viper looked into the stands, and saw faces turned to the arena’s far wall. Fingers pointed at something high above. Viper tried to peek around the shield, but Kogan pulled him back.
“Stay down!”
A third crack and the shield hummed and skipped into Viper. Kogan growled and planted his feet to avoid falling over. A chunk was torn off the edge of the shield, narrowly missing Viper’s face. He shrank away from the ragged hole, pressing his back against Kogan’s armor.
“You sure know how to make friends,” Kogan chuckled.
“What’s going on?” Viper’s bearings finally returned, and he could think clearly once again.
“It’s Grave. He’s got a sniper rifle as big as he is. He’s up on the wall,” Kogan replied. He shouted up into the crowd, “Someone enforce the code! If you want to fight?”
“Fight in the ring!” the crowd roared in response. Players began drawing bows, crossbows, and spears from their inventories. They would quickly run Grave out of the arena. One gun could not stand against a thousand arrows.
However, Grave had more than one gun. A ragged burst of gunfire rocked the arena, and the crowd broke. The once defiant spectators rushed for the exits underneath a hail of bullets. Four Conquerors, armed with automatic rifles, jumped to the sand. In unison, they dropped empty magazines and inserted fresh ones.
“Do you enjoy having everyone hate you?” Kogan asked. He sighed, “Well there are four in front of us, as well as Grave up high. I’m going to call out the direction and you’re going to hit. You should have all your energy back. Now, stand up.”
Viper stood. Kogan began slowly walking backward, pulling Viper with him.
“Are they spreading out?” Viper asked.
“Yes,” Kogan said. “Get ready. Ten o’clock. Now!”
Kogan whirled suddenly, and the shield was gone. Viper fired a bolt of lightning, and the shield came back in time to block a spattering of bullets. Grave was so surprised by the maneuver that he did not even fire.
“You cooked off the bullets in his gun, almost blew him in half,” Kogan chuckled. “Next time they will be ready.”
“Then we do them all at once,” Viper said. “Protect me from Grave and I will take care of the others. Tell me where they are.”
Moving cautiously, the three remaining Conquerors continued to fan out. Kogan would eventually run out of space to back up, and they would flank Kogan’s shield.
“Ten. Twelve. Two-thirty,” Kogan whispered. “I’m ready.”
Viper dove from cover; lightning and purple energy blasting from his fingertips. A barrage of gunfire kicked up sand and rattled Kogan’s shield. Kogan held the shield up, protecting his head and limiting Grave’s angle of fire from high on the coliseum wall.
Grave’s rifle barked, and a crater appeared in the sand behind Viper. The rifle shell drove so deep into the sand that Kogan expected to see lava bubbling out of its crater.
On his feet again and glowing red, Viper sprinted away. Kogan raised Sentinel, and an orb of golden light shimmered around Viper. He would have three seconds of invulnerability; three seconds was an eternity when used properly.
Grave fired and a white streak skipped off the golden shield surrounding Viper. A flash of light rippled over the shield, and the shell smashed into the empty stands. Viper continued running, and fried a Conqueror with a bolts electricity. He whipped a dark tendril across the arena, and grabbed another Conqueror by the throat. With a forceful tug, he pulled the man to the ground and flung him toward Kogan. The man rolled across the sand until Kogan’s armored boot buried him.
The remaining Conqueror stood his ground and held his trigger as Viper charged. He was so focused on shooting at Viper - his bullets whizzing off the shimmering shield in a flurry of golden sparks - that he did not notice when Kogan hurled Sentinel. The whirling mace ruined its target, smashing the man into a wall and cracking stones behind him.
Viper pressed his back to the wall. Grave was directly above, too high to aim the rifle down and shoot him. He could see the long barrel pointed at Kogan, who was inching across the sand toward Viper’s spear.
“Why don’t you come down here?” Viper yelled.
Grave remained silent. Viper threw out a dark tendril and pulled a fallen Conqueror’s assault rifle to him. He raised the gun and slowly crept away from the wall. When he was a couple feet away he fired a short burst.
Bullets spattered on the stone, throwing debris down at him. Grave’s rifle moved slightly as he recoiled from the sudden spray of stone chips. Viper took several steps back, knowing he was in a dangerous spot. If Grave snapped his rifle down and took a quick shot he could easily hit Viper.
He heard Focus sliding across the sand as Kogan carefully picked it up, making sure to keep his shield squarely facing Grave. Viper raised a hand, hoping that Kogan could see it. His hand pulsed with light. Long-short-long.
Kogan flung the spear over his shield, sending it arcing high toward Grave. Grave snarled and followed the glimmering spear as it sailed toward him. It vanished into the sun, and Grave cast a quick, worried glance over the edge of the wall. Viper was gone.
Viper’s gun chattered and a hail of bullets struck at Grave from above. Grave dove off the wall, clutching the sniper rifle, and vanished into the surrounding forest. Viper landed - spear in one hand, gun in the other - shouting with rage.
“Get down from there!” Kogan yelled. “He could turn around and…”
Grave fired a parting shot. Viper spun, a red streak on his shoulder, and fell off the wall. He clattered into warm sand. Viper groaned and propped himself up, shaking his head.
“I warned you,” Kogan trotted up to Viper, who was now staring at the chunk taken out of his arm.
Kogan extended his hand, and golden light covered Viper’s arm, removing the wound but doing nothing for the long gash in his armor. The hole was nearly an inch across and three inches long.
Kogan shook his head, “A few inches over and Grave would have exactly what he wanted.
Viper’s armor was a wreck; there were scuffs and scratches, dents and scoring from Kogan’s mace, missing scales on his torso, and now a hollow gash on his right shoulder. He brushed the sand off as best he could, and faced Kogan, “Why did you stop him?”
“The victory was mine, not his. I wanted a clean win. I know you don’t understand such things.”
“Well now what?” Viper’s eyes flicked to the spear half buried in the sand beside him.
Kogan retrieved his mace, and knocked it against the coliseum wall to clear sand off the flanges, “What’s with the feathers?”
Viper tightened his jaw, “What do you mean?”
Kogan pointed to Viper’s arm, “You know exactly what I mean: the feathers on your arms, on your helmet, on your horse, on your spear. When I pulled them off you zoned out. It was like you were somewhere else. Well, I remember that you had the same look on your face when...”
“I’m not going to talk about it,” Viper interrupted. “Not with you.”
“But you want my help? What makes you think I won’t betray
you at the last minute and smash your head in?” Kogan asked, “Or what if I take one of these guns here, and shoot you in the back? I think it would erase your account. People are saying if a Dalton bullet kills you, you’re done for good- Level One. That’s what Grave wants; maybe I could do him a favor. I owe it to you, and you deserve it.”
“You won’t do that,” Viper muttered.
“Why not?” Kogan snarled.
“Because you’re not like that,” Viper looked away.
“And you?” Kogan stepped closer, casting a shadow over Viper.
“I’m something else,” Viper narrowed his eyes. “I’m not you.”
“Let me tell you about me,” Kogan said. “You’re asking me to risk losing my account and lose everything I’ve worked for to help this kid out - and you by extension. But you don’t know anything about the man behind Kogan. You don’t know what Kogan represents. Fortunately for you, someone else does, and I made a promise of my own. I have my own feathers.”
“What are you talking about?”
“On the day I took my quest to become a Paladin, my Ultimate Class, I was told that each quest is designed by Omni to be unique, and tailored to the individual player. When I returned to Verdia City - no longer a Cleric but the first player to reach Paladin - I lied about the quest.”
“You didn’t kill a dragon? The dragon they named after you?”
Kogan sighed, and stood silent for quite a while before beginning, “I was transported up north, somewhere in the White Plateau, and I entered a cave. I walked down a long tunnel; I expected there to be some monster waiting to bite me in half at the end. But…” Kogan’s voice became ragged and he took a breath, “there was nothing to fight. I came to a cavern,” he paused again, his huge golden eyes red and brimming with tears, “and there was a tree, next to a pool of water.” Kogan fought for words against a tight throat.
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