Evolution

by Travis Bagwell

  Frank turned to look at Jason, their eyes meeting as time seemed to slow. He saw a sad grin on his friend’s face – his death already certain. The barbarian’s body exploded in a shower of blood that stained the stone around him, and his icon on Jason’s group interface immediately grayed out as his axes rattled against the stone floor.

  Noah didn’t hesitate. He turned to face Riley, racing toward her. Jason pushed himself to his feet and sprinted toward the archer. He was closer to Riley, but Noah was moving at an unbelievable pace. Meanwhile, a ball of pulsating energy was growing along Riley’s arrow-tip, tendrils of blood-red power streaking through the maelstrom of mana.

  Just a few more seconds, Jason thought. I just need to give her a few more seconds.

  In the last few feet, he dived forward and pushed his remaining bone shield into Noah’s path. The undead man’s stylus slammed against the ivory disc, cracking the bone and shattering the shield, but the gesture bought Riley just enough time to release. Her arrow rocketed through the air and slammed into another urn, detonating the column in a concussive blast of power.

  As Jason turned back to Riley, he saw familiar, malignant runes marking her arm. She closed her eyes as the runes ignited, fire consuming her body and burning through her remaining health. A few seconds later, her burnt corpse dropped to the floor.

  With dread, Jason could see that Noah had turned to Eliza, the water mage backpedaling quickly and trying vainly to form more ice traps along the floor. Jason could see that it would only buy her another few seconds as Noah’s unnaturally nimble form weaved through the minefield that the water mage had created – spikes of ice erupting from the floor in his wake.

  Jason glanced back at the sole remaining column, his hand curling around one of his daggers. He knew it was hopeless, but he forced himself to his feet anyway and began his sprint toward the last pillar. His breath burned in his chest as he forced himself to run faster. He needed to move faster.

  A cackle echoed through the room as the Keeper watched him. “How pitiful. Is this what dark magic has become in my absence? This is the height of your power now, Dark One?” he called out, his voice cracking and changing as he spoke.

  Jason ignored him and continued his headlong charge, noting absently that Eliza’s icon had grayed out as she joined Frank and Riley in death. As he neared the last pillar, Jason slammed his dagger against the dark mana shield, the blade barely penetrating the energy. Tendrils of obsidian energy lashed at his skin in retaliation, causing his flesh to boil where the tentacles struck him. He ignored the pain, striking the shield again and again and again as a futile scream ripped from his throat.

  “Your time is over, little Necromancer,” the Keeper roared, his laughter rebounding off the walls of the throne room.

  Jason could sense Noah racing toward him from behind, his nimble feet making whispers on the stone, but he kept attacking. He could see the energy beginning to fade despite his weak attacks. He pulled out his other dagger, slamming both blades against the mana shield as hard and as fast as he could.

  “But I have saved you something special. Let me show you the real power of the dark,” the Keeper continued. “Let me show you my Miasma.”

  Dread curled in Jason’s stomach, and he slammed his blades against the shield repeatedly. He had witnessed the Keeper use that spell already, and he had been injured at the time. Now that he had his arm plunged into a mana well, what would the spell look like? Jason knew he only had a few more seconds. He could do this! He had to do this!

  Dark energy pulsed and throbbed around the Keeper, creating an epicenter of darkness in front of the throne that consumed the light in the room hungrily. As the Keeper finished casting, the pulsing ball of mana expanded in a tidal wave of power that rippled through the room and seemed to warp the air around it – the darkness clawing forward with a ravenous hunger.

  Jason saw the wave coming, but he continued to frantically pound his daggers against the mana shield protecting the final urn. As the crest of the wave began to reach him and Noah’s stylus loomed in his peripheral vision, his arm finally slipped through the shield. He stumbled forward, and one of his daggers glanced against the urn sitting on the column, the tip chipping the clay and causing a small crack to form on its side.

  Then tendrils of darkness wrapped around Jason’s form and tore at his flesh. He tried to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. As the malignant energy melted away his skin and started on his organs, Jason’s eyes rested on the last and final urn. The fractured vessel stood there – mocking him – even as his vision began to darken.

  They had failed.

  System Message

  You have died.

  Thanks for playing Awaken Online!

  Chapter 28 - Deranged

  Claire hovered outside of a nondescript door. Above her, an 8-bit Mario was jumping through a series of puzzles, slamming his head against low-resolution brick boxes. If she hadn’t known it already, she could have guessed that Robert lived on this floor of the Cerillian Entertainment building. She gritted her teeth as she realized he must have used his administrator credentials to repurpose the hallway’s monitor system. She made a mental note to get that fixed before someone complained.

  However, this wasn’t the time to be thinking about Robert’s hijinks. She knew she was procrastinating. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she wiped her sweaty palms on her slacks as she stared at the door. She knew Robert wasn’t inside. One benefit of her position with the company was that she always knew what everyone was up to. Robert had been called into a meeting about five minutes ago, which gave her at least forty-five minutes before he could potentially return to the apartment.

  A door slammed behind her and Claire jumped nervously, glancing back down the hallway. A man had stepped out of his apartment and was walking swiftly towards the elevator. He never glanced her way as he headed in the opposite direction. She let out a small breath as she saw him turn a corner.

  “Just do it,” Claire said to herself, her eyes fixed on the door in front of her. “You’ve already come this far.”

  Summoning her courage, Claire tapped at the control panel next to the door to Robert’s apartment. She quickly navigated a series of menus before entering the security credentials for one of the cleaning staff. Robert’s apartment was typically off-limits to the company’s staff, but she had copied the credentials for a new member of the cleaning crew – one who presumably hadn’t been told about Robert’s quirks. At least that was the story Claire had planned in advance.

  A moment later, the door slid open with a faint click. Claire took a deep breath and stepped inside. Her nose wrinkled in disgust, and she pressed a palm to her forehead as she witnessed first-hand the disaster that was Robert’s apartment. She had heard the stories, but she still wasn’t prepared. Pizza boxes and piles of textbooks littered the floor. As she entered the living room, she froze. If she hadn’t been breaking in, she would have immediately left, found the damn engineer, and throttled him.

  Robert had piled all of the furniture along one wall and had rigged a workstation in the center of the living room. Cables and towers jutted from the workbench at odd angles and nearly a dozen screens flickered into existence as she approached. The kitchen wasn’t much better – a complete mess of half-disassembled equipment. It actually looked like Robert had tried to take apart the refrigerator for some reason.

  “You aren’t here to berate him,” she reminded herself. She needed to move quickly.

  Claire took a seat at Robert’s terminal, pulling up the system menu. It promptly asked for security credentials, and Robert had installed some kind of retinal scanner. “God damn it, Robert,” she muttered.

  Tapping at her Core, Claire pulled up a full diagnostic suite. She also manually connected her wrist device to the workstation with a thin cable. Even if Robert had built in his own security protections, he had been forced to start from company hardware and software, which meant there might be a backdoor through his sec
urity protocols. She was hopeful that Robert hadn’t tried to protect his terminal from the company staff.

  Her Core began automatically feeling out Robert’s security, a series of menus flashing across the screen as her device accessed the terminal’s firmware. A moment later, her Core emitted a soft ding, and the screen on the terminal reverted to Robert’s home screen. Claire let out a relieved breath.

  She began navigating the system menu, hunting for Robert’s new headset project. She found one file tree that looked promising, and she tapped at the icon. A series of images and videos were pushed to the other screens as data began scrolling down the central monitor. Claire’s eyes widened in confusion as she reviewed the information and she lifted a hand to her mouth.

  “What are you building here?” she muttered, tapping her fingers against her lips.

  It looked like Robert was experimenting with replicating the hyper-cognition and enhanced learning speed that Alfred had developed in connection with AO. And he was close. Really, really close if this data was correct. She was amazed as she reviewed his research. If this type of product went public, people would go crazy. This would spread across the world like wildfire.

  Claire shook her head. Robert’s research was fascinating, but that wasn’t what she was here for. She needed to focus. She switched over to a separate file tree for the prototype headsets, quickly choosing Jason’s profile. She poured through the information, her Core automatically backing up the data on Robert’s terminal.

  A hollow weight settled in her stomach as she saw that there was a gap in the backups from Jason’s headset. No data had been uploaded since a day or two before the two teenagers had been killed. Robert must have been too busy on other projects to notice the gap.

  Claire’s fist slammed against Robert’s desk, causing a pile of books to fall to the floor with a small crash – not that he would likely notice the change amid the rest of the destruction. It wasn’t here! The information had to be stored somewhere – it had to be. Claire’s thoughts raced, recalling her conversation with Robert a few days ago. With a sense of dread, she realized that there was only one more place she could look – Jason’s new headset.

  Was she really willing to go that far? To break into a teenager’s bedroom?

  The screens around her flickered and shifted, a rotating image of Robert’s new prototype headset suddenly spinning in place in the air before her eyes. It was lighter than the previous model, infinitely more sensitive, and contained a mobile power supply. Robert had also made huge progress in duplicating Alfred’s hyper-cognitive state. Not only was Robert going along with the company’s cover-up, he was actively trying to duplicate Alfred’s technology and bring it to market. No wonder he hadn’t told her about this!

  The AI had already demonstrated that he could take over a user’s mind using the improved headsets. Yet what would happen when the new prototypes became a household item? She had no doubt that would happen after Robert revealed his research. He might be handing Alfred a way to take over the world…

  As this terrifying realization settled over her, Claire’s hands clenched into fists. This had to be stopped. She had no choice – not at this point.

  ***

  Jason found himself standing inside the game’s deathscape. He was caught off guard by the abrupt transition and glanced around in confusion for a moment before getting his bearings. The throne room had taken on an otherworldly cast as motes of energy drifted past him. He could still make out the Keeper’s shadowy, skeletal form sitting on the throne and Noah’s telltale shadow lingering behind him.

  “Damn it,” Jason muttered, rubbing his eyes with one ghostly hand. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to watch the replay of the battle, and he briefly considered logging out. However, he was still racing against the clock and couldn’t afford to lengthen his respawn. He didn’t have any choice but to watch his group’s defeat on a loop.

  With a sigh, he opened his eyes. He watched as they once again approached the Keeper and his son. He winced as Frank drunkenly suggested they ought to just steal the grimoire. A moment later, the same glowing red runes flickered to life across the room. Then he watched himself go through his harebrained scheme, fires raging through the room in a torrent and causing Jason to try to dodge out of the way even though he knew the flames couldn’t harm him anymore.

  As he watched Noah take out his teammates one by one and their blood stain the dusty stone floor, Jason finally had to look away, a heavy weight settling in his stomach. He didn’t need to see the rest. He knew he had failed to destroy the last urn and that the Keeper and his son still “lived.” He was also painfully aware that he used almost all of the corpses in the auditorium. They wouldn’t have nearly as many resources during a second attempt.

  As the final tidal wave of dark energy swept through the room, Jason looked back at the scene. The room had stilled. The Keeper sat frozen on his throne, and his son stood over Jason’s desiccated corpse – the undead runemaster unharmed by the Keeper’s Miasma.

  “This fight is impossible,” Jason muttered.

  “Yes, yes it is,” a voice answered. Jason jumped in surprise, whirling in search of the speaker. The voice felt familiar, but Jason couldn’t quite place it. The scene in the Throne room had frozen, the Keeper and his son standing rigidly. What was most disconcerting was that the replay hadn’t begun again. Something was off here.

  “Who said that?” Jason asked, his voice echoing oddly in this ethereal plane.

  “I did, of course” the Keeper answered.

  Suddenly, the ancient skeleton’s form stuttered and shifted, the creature’s bones creaking and rattling as he slowly rose from the throne. He pulled his left arm from the mana well, droplets of obsidian mana dripping from his skeletal fingers while he still clutched his staff in his right hand. The weapon’s surface shimmered, and Jason could now see an ephemeral blade arcing away from the top of the staff.

  “What… how is this possible?” Jason asked in confusion.

  The Keeper approached slowly, its bones creaking. “I stand at the boundary between life and death. This place,” he continued, gesturing at the deathscape, “is a crossroads of sorts. Or did you think only travelers could access the deathscape?”

  “You are violating our covenant,” another voice rang out. Jason turned to find the Old Man standing nearby, his face obscured by his hood. He held his plain wooden staff in one hand, its scythe-blade mysteriously absent. With a wave of the dark god’s hand, the figures and bodies in the throne room disappeared entirely, and the three of them stood alone in the vacant space.

  “I was wondering when you would finally show yourself,” the Keeper answered in a dry voice, his personality and his tone more stable now. “I see that you still sit behind the scenes, pulling your puppet’s strings,” he added, gesturing dismissively at Jason.

  “And I see that time has not been kind to you,” the Old Man retorted. “However, that might be a result of your choices. What you have done here is an abomination.” He waved a hand at the lone remaining column that still held a fractured urn.

  The Keeper laughed contemptuously. “An abomination, you say? You and your siblings drove us to this! What other choice did we have?!” the skeleton demanded, anger coloring his voice. “You abandoned our people!”

  “What are you talking about?” Jason interrupted.

  “Of course!” the Keeper exclaimed. “You wouldn’t tell your new avatar, would you? Well, then why don’t I enlighten him, hmm? Why don’t I tell him the entire story of how you failed the Kin?”

  “I suggest you exercise caution,” the Old Man warned. His voice was heavy with power, and wings of dark energy expanded from his back. An ethereal blade slid out of his wooden staff, a single droplet of blood welling at its tip.

  “Your scare attacks hold little weight with me now,” the Keeper replied, unimpressed. “Or do you not remember your own precious rules? There is nothing you can do to me here.” The Old Man glared at the Keeper, befo
re grunting in irritation, his mana receding.

  Jason watched the exchange in fascination, dozens of questions racing through his mind as he listened to their conversation. Who was this Keeper? How did he have this much influence over the Old Man? What rules was he referring to? How had the dark god betrayed the Keeper? Jason was struggling to keep up with their conversation.

  “Now then,” the ancient skeleton continued, turning his attention back to Jason. “I suspect your god has omitted a few important details. Long ago, he and his siblings ruled this world. They created massive cities devoted to each affinity and brought life to whole generations of new creatures. For a time, we had peace.”

  The Keeper chuckled darkly. “Yet all good things must come to an end. The gods started quarreling with each other like school children – squabbling over their areas of power and influence. And so the wars began. They were long, bloody affairs. Factions formed, brother turning against brother.

  “Eventually, the humans grew tired of the death and the destruction. They banded together, retreating to areas where our magical influence couldn’t easily reach, and they trained and grew. Until, finally, they were strong enough to strike back. They purged this world of the gods’ creatures! They took advantage of our gods’ bickering, and some even sought to help the humans, thinking that it would bring them greater power.”

  The Keeper’s gaze drifted as though he were watching a scene unfolding in his mind. “I watched our cities awash in flame – our Kin destroyed and burned beyond redemption. Their bodies couldn’t even be interned in a mana well…”

  “So you fled here with your son,” Jason murmured, beginning to piece together the Keeper’s story with the visions he had witnessed.

  The Keeper’s eyes flashed powerfully, and he whirled on the Old Man. “You gave this boy the sight – without even undergoing the change? Are you mad? What have you been showing him?”