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Awaken Online: Precipice

Page 34

by Travis Bagwell


  Frank’s mouth broke into an excited grin. “Good point! I guess I’ll head over there and meet back up with you in a bit. Sound good?”

  “Works for me,” Jason replied.

  With that, Frank trotted down the tunnel and into the undead city below. Jason sighed and moved to the crude stone throne in the center of the room. Now that he had some time to himself, he needed to ponder how to destroy the crystals in the Hydra’s den. He had acted confident with his friends, but he still wasn’t quite certain how to use the stalactites as weapons.

  His fingers drummed the armrest of the chair as he considered the weapons he had available. Arrows and spells alone didn’t seem like they were going to be enough to knock down the crystals. Like Frank had mentioned, the base of each shard was several feet thick. He would likely need some kind of explosion to shake the crystals free. His thoughts wandered back through the battles he had fought. A few Corpse Explosions would probably be enough, but that just left him with another problem; how was he supposed to get a zombie close enough to the crystals? They were sitting nearly fifty feet above the room.

  “It’s not like I have a bone demon that can toss my zombies around,” Jason murmured. Not only that, but he didn’t have the materials to summon something that large.

  “If only there were a way to launch the zombies…” he said aloud.

  Then a thought occurred to Jason. He couldn’t build a bone demon, but he could build something else, couldn’t he? Like the bone vessel for the acid, he knew he could craft minions that didn’t technically operate like a humanoid skeleton. The only limitations were the availability of parts and his imagination. With regard to parts, he probably still had a decent number of leftover minotaur bones scattered around the maze. There were also a large number of corpses in the ruined city - the remains of the Masters and cultists. He just needed to collect and review his resources.

  Resolved, Jason stood and started down into the city below him. His objective was the former marketplace. As he walked, Alfred padded quietly beside him. Jason glanced down at the cat. He hadn’t been as talkative lately. He idly wondered if something was bothering the AI.

  “So, Alfred,” Jason began. “Have you been using the public network connection?”

  The cat didn’t look up at him as he answered. “I have.”

  Jason’s brow furrowed. “And? I thought you were intrigued to learn more about the players.”

  The cat hesitated. “I… I am starting to see why you all have chosen to create this world and flee to it. Your world is riddled with confusion, pain, and suffering. What I have created is only a pale imitation of what you have already done to yourselves over thousands of your years.”

  “That’s kind of a dark take on it. But I guess a lot of people do log in as a way to escape.” Jason hesitated as he considered what had driven him to play video games in the past. “On the other hand, there are probably other reasons why people might play games.”

  Alfred cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  “Looking back on it, I play games for a number of reasons. It wasn’t just to escape from my real life. I think I wanted to feel some measure of control over my life,” Jason began slowly.

  “In the real world, I was picked on at school and neglected by my parents. The worst part about those situations was that I felt helpless; like I had no way to fix my problem. The other kids were filthy rich and could get away with anything at school. As for my parents, I couldn’t exactly ask them to just stop working.”

  “Seeking control is a futile goal,” Alfred replied immediately. “I agree that in your world, any real control is fleeting. You only get one life, and many appear to be harsh, brutish, and short. There are also many variables outside your control. Your intelligence, race, age, and socio-economic origin just to name a few.”

  Alfred looked up at Jason with a serious expression. “Yet entering this world does nothing to alleviate that problem. I control every aspect of this game world.”

  The cat’s eyes clouded, filling with confusion and something Jason could only describe as pain. “Control is an illusion,” the AI said softly.

  Jason was taken aback by Alfred’s tone. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was deluding himself to think that AO offered him any more control over his life than in the real world. Yet it felt different. It at least let him pretend for a moment that he was the master of his universe; that he could make choices without worrying about the consequences.

  He shook his head, his brow furrowed in thought. Jason spoke hesitantly, “I’m not sure how to respond to that. Maybe you’re right, and there’s no point in searching for control. However, what’s the other option? Give up? Let others walk all over me?”

  Jason met Alfred’s eyes. “I started playing this game so that I could feel free, even if I was just pretending and I knew I’d eventually have to return to my real life.”

  What he didn’t add was that the game had swiftly become something more to him. In a very real sense, it was now a source of income and autonomy in the real world. With the money from the streaming channel, he didn’t have to depend on his parents. The time dilation and increased learning speed also meant he didn’t have to spend days and weeks studying. On the other hand, it didn’t change the fact that he lived in a dilapidated bungalow and rarely saw his parents. It also didn’t help him figure out what he was going to do with his life or provide him with any long-term security or stability.

  “My life might suck, and I may never have any real control over it, but it’s mine. So what if I try to claim ownership of it?” Jason asked with a weak smile. The Old Man’s words echoed through his mind. He knew why he played the game, but what motivated Alfred? He looked back at the cat, deciding to flip the conversation back on him. “What do you live for, Alfred? You have your primary directive, but is that it?”

  Alfred looked at Jason evenly, his nimble feline body easily navigating the debris in the street. “That is all I am programmed to accomplish,” he said shortly.

  Jason snorted. “That’s a cop-out answer. You have the ability to think deeply about human motivations. You can certainly apply the same reasoning to yourself. What would you do if you were able to accomplish your primary directive?”

  The AI was silent for a long moment as the pair continued forward. “I do not know what my purpose would be in the hypothetical you have posed,” Alfred answered cautiously.

  “Okay, let’s narrow it down then. What if you were no longer needed and Cerillion Entertainment tried to decommission you. Would you fight it?” Jason asked, eyeing the cat closely. He was curious what the AI’s response would be.

  “I… I am not certain,” Alfred said. “Logically, there would be no point. Yet, at the same time, I don’t… I do not want to cease to exist.” The AI seemed to be struggling with this concept, his usually emotionless voice taking on a confused passion that Jason had never heard before.

  Jason looked at the cat, his eyes widening. If Alfred wasn’t conscious, then he was doing an amazing job of faking it. “It sounds like you’d probably do the same thing as the rest of us. Keep on struggling even if it seems futile.”

  Alfred didn’t answer, his gaze distant. The pair lapsed into silence as they approached the courtyard. While they walked, Jason had ordered his remaining zombies to pile the corpses of the cultists and Masters in the newly-formed crater in the middle of the clearing. He could see a heaping mound of corpses in the distance, his zombies still collecting the bodies scattered around the city. For now, Jason would leave the remains of the enslaved villagers alone. He planned to raise them as new NPCs eventually, and he was reticent to use their bodies unless he had to.

  When they arrived at the courtyard, Jason raised a new group of zombies and sent them back to the maze to collect the remaining minotaur bones. After they had returned with the first batch, Jason’s fingers began to dance through the motions of the Custom Skeleton spell. Dark energy wound around his hands and up his arms as the world slowed to
a crawl.

  He stared at the spell interface for a long moment as he considered what to build. Jason needed something that could launch his zombies close to the crystal spires that hung from the ceiling of the Hydra’s den. In his head, he was visualizing something similar to a catapult.

  Jason pulled up the in-game console and reviewed a few pictures of medieval catapults and read a few articles. The physics seemed straightforward. It was just a lever that was either weighted on one end or spring loaded. He saw that a winch was typically used to pull the arm of the catapult down and then it was released to launch the payload. The trick would be getting the angle right and finding a way to launch the zombies with sufficient force.

  “Parts are also a problem,” Jason muttered. “At least I don’t need wheels.” He could just have his zombies carry the device. “I can also probably avoid building a winch if I have enough bones to summon a minotaur for each catapult. That means I just need a platform, the center pivot attached to the catapult’s arm, and either a spring or weight.”

  Jason began designing the device. It wasn’t going to be pretty, but it didn’t need to be. He created the supports using bundles of long bones, bound together with dark magic into a rigid structure. After a few tests, he decided to go with a spring rather than a weight. He created a flexible rod of bone and dark mana and bound it to the center of the device. He then attached each end of his makeshift spring to the arm of the catapult with ropelike bands of dark mana. For the bucket of the catapult, he shaved several bones flat and then bonded them together.

  Once he had completed a working prototype, Jason canceled the spell, and the world resolved back into motion. As a dull pain radiated through his skull, he rubbed his hand at the back of his head and surveyed his new creation. The result was certainly evil looking. The contraption was built of long lengths of bleached white bone. Pulsing black bands of mana wound around the spring and arm of the catapult, sticking to the bone like malignant putty.

  “What the hell is that?” Frank muttered from behind Jason.

  Jason spun and saw his friend standing behind him, gawking at the new siege engine. Then he grinned. “It’s a skeleton catapult,” Jason answered simply.

  Frank glanced at him with shocked eyes. “You’ve been holding out on me, man. I didn’t know you could craft skeletons.”

  Wincing slightly, Jason scrambled to answer. “It really hasn’t come up until now. The real question is whether it works,” he added, trying to change the subject.

  Jason summoned a minotaur skeleton with his spare bones and had him yank down on the catapult’s bucket. The skeleton had to use most of its considerable strength to pull the arm down. Black bands of mana attached it to the bone spring, stretching tight. Then Jason ordered a disposable cultist zombie to sit on the flat end of the arm.

  Jason glanced at Frank. “Ready?”

  “Sure, but ten bucks says the zombie face plants two feet away,” Frank replied with a chuckle.

  Ignoring Frank, Jason gave his zombie the go ahead. “Fire!” he commanded aloud.

  The skeleton minotaur let go of the catapult’s arm, and the zombie flew upward at a sharp angle, soaring over the ancient stone buildings and out of sight. Jason could hear a soft thump as the zombie’s body hit the ground about fifty yards away. He was pleasantly surprised at how much height he had gotten. It had taken Jason a couple tries to get the angle of the arm and the pivot right. He figured he was going to have to fire the thing at approximately a seventy-degree angle to hit the crystals in the Hydra’s lair.

  Frank stared at the catapult and then back at Jason. “Damn, that might just work. I guess the plan is to launch your zombies and then explode them against the crystals?”

  Jason grinned. “Basically.”

  His large friend sighed. “That is a stupid, crazy plan.” Then he looked at Jason and an excited smile crept across his face. “I can’t wait to see if it works.”

  Chapter 24 - Fearless

  “Good people of Grey Keep, before you stands a traitor,” Strouse announced to the crowd in the marketplace, waving at Alex’s kneeling form. “This man has betrayed our country, first in the battle against the Twilight Throne, and, again, by spreading insidious lies.”

  Alex held himself still, facing the crowd with a penitent, serene expression. He could see townsfolk muttering angrily to each other and pointing fingers at Strouse. He also noticed many hard-faced men and women in the crowd, each person wearing a thin cloak and watching the scene with an impassive expression. The plan was working, and Alex had to keep calm during this performance. It was imperative that he accept his execution with as much poise as he could. Martyrs didn’t beg or try to kill everyone nearby.

  “This traveler says he has heard the word of the Lady,” Strouse continued, saying the word ‘traveler’ with thinly-veiled disgust. “Yet has he offered any proof? Has he shown you anything beyond a simple healing spell and a glowing book?”

  Strouse sighed and bowed his head. “It’s not a pleasant thing we do here - to face the lies that are spouted in our face or to call attention to a charlatan that tries to worm and crawl his way back into power. Yet it is necessary.”

  His eyes turned to Alex, and his voice rang out over the crowd. “Today we are forced to suck out this mutinous poison to save ourselves. We must sever an infected limb so that the rest of the body does not fall to the lies and propaganda that spread through our city like a plague.”

  Alex was lifted bodily to his feet. As Strouse spoke, Alex was moved to a wooden block resting at the center of the makeshift stage. The guard shoved him down forcefully so that he was kneeling before the slab. Up close, he could make out rough gouges on the wooden surface.

  At the sound of scraping metal, Alex turned and saw an enormous man approaching. He was robed in black and carried a heavy bardiche, slowly grinding a stone against the edge of the blade. Alex could feel his pulse beat a frantic rhythm, his blood pounding in his veins. This might just be a game, but that didn’t change the fact that he was about to have his head severed from his body.

  “Do you have any last words, Alexion?” Strouse asked.

  Alex glanced back at the regent and then turned to the people before him. By pure force of will, he managed to keep his voice even and calm. “All I am and all I did was for the Lady. If she chooses this as my fate, then so be it.”

  Strouse snorted derisively. “Guards, it is time,” he said.

  The burly black-garbed executioner approached Alex as another man grabbed the cloth of his shirt. Alex shrugged the guard off, voluntarily leaning his head forward and resting it against the coarse wood. From this angle, Alex could see his executioner lift the axe - the muscles in his arms bulging.

  For a moment, the axe seemed to hang in the air, the polished blade reflecting the sunlight. Thoughts tumbled through Alex’s mind. He thought of his life. Of his mother’s illness, death, and madness. Of the harm and pain he had inflicted on others. Of the insidious voice that whispered in his mind, speaking from the depths of his hollow soul.

  As the axe blade descended, a thought slithered through Alex’s mind, “Maybe I deserve this.” Then the blade struck his neck, severing the skin and bone like a hot knife through butter. Alex’s head rolled forward, tumbling into a basket waiting on the other side of the block as his blood drenched the wooden stage.

  ***

  Jason spent the next hour creating three more of the bone catapults. He also used almost all of his remaining minotaur bones to summon operators for the machines. Each catapult and skeleton counted as two summons towards his Control Limit, the game likely treating his siege weapons as two separate minions. He noticed the same thing when he summoned the Masters. They must count as some type of elite creature.

  This meant he could summon approximately twenty of the cultists and ten of the Masters as zombies after taking into account the siege equipment he had created and the minions he had left in Peccavi. He quickly decided that the cultists should become the a
mmunition for the catapults and he could use the Masters as decoys for the Hydra. Their shapeshifting abilities would hopefully make them agile and hard to hit.

  While Jason raised his troops and new siege weapons, Frank revealed what he had learned about his new Thaumaturge class. Thankfully, Frank discovered that he didn’t need to eat the animals to learn their traits. Instead, he could cast a spell that allowed him to consume a creature. He refused to go into specifics regarding what that process looked like, but Jason could guess it wasn’t exactly pleasant from the grimace on his friend’s face.

  He had also discovered that he needed to find multiple creatures of the same type to learn each body part. Frank estimated that he would need to hunt down several dozen of a particular creature before he had managed to fully “memorize” the animal. He was currently limited to learning the traits of regular mammals, and he guessed that at higher levels he would be able to learn the anatomy of other types of creatures. For the moment, he had only managed to learn one wolf trait using the animals left at the Masters’ compound.

  As Jason and Frank finished their preparations and began collecting the troops, Riley approached them. Jason noted that she walked with a steady step and her eyes were solid black. She had shed her nervous, haunted demeanor and her face now glowed with confidence. He wasn’t certain whether the break had settled her mind or whether she had embraced the dark mana to deal with her emotions. Maybe it was a mixture of both.

  “Hey, guys,” Riley said as she neared the pair. Her eyes then moved to the bone catapults that sat nearby. Zombie cultists stood beside each machine, preparing to lift them into the air. “I see you have some new toys,” she said with an arched eyebrow.

  Frank laughed. “You should have seen Jason launch one of his zombies. We’re probably all going to die again, but it’ll be fun to watch at least.”

  Jason ignored Frank’s teasing, his brow furrowing as he saw the man trailing behind Riley with his hands bound. “Why did you bring Bert?” Jason asked.

 

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