by Charles Dean
“Hmm . . . I see. And when it’s in control, do you want the driver, for lack of a better word, to ever stop what it’s doing? Do you ever tell it to behave itself and not kill?”
“I . . .” Darwin hesitated to answer.
“So you didn’t tell it not to attack me? Not to try to kill me when we fought?” Kitchens’ words stabbed through him.
No. No. “No, it wasn’t like that, I --” He started trying to explain his actions so he wouldn’t lose a friend, one of the few people he actually felt comfortable using the word ‘friend’ to describe, but Kitchens cut him off.
“You just didn’t see my face, didn’t know it was me you were fighting? Did you?” Kitchens explained it for Darwin, much to Darwin’s relief.
“No. No, I didn’t. All I saw was the sword, the arms, when and where the attacks were coming from. . . I lost consciousness somewhere in the fight, and by the time I regained it, all I knew was that a sword was coming at me, and I didn’t want to die. I just saw that I was being attacked, and I didn’t want to lose,” Darwin sighed.
“Was it fun?” Kitchens pressed the topic squarely back into the realm of accusation with just those three words.
“Uhh . . .” Darwin tried to recall. He had been so focused on his actions that a concept like ‘fun’ never came up. He hadn’t been sad, happy, bored or entertained. He had been almost like a machine that was utterly dedicated to a single task. “No,” he finally spoke. Certain that it was the truth.
“Lighten up, Darwin. You look too tense. Be like water,” Kitchens clasped Darwin on the shoulder, knocking a sigh of relief out of him. “I only have one more question: What were you thinking about before it started? Did anything of note happen first?”
“I remember . . .” Darwin didn’t have to think about it for more than a second before he recalled the trigger. “I was thinking about how they had killed seven of our guildmates already, and they were acting like it was their right to do it. They were talking as if, since they had come first, they had the right kill our people before anyone else, and . . . because they came here first, I wasn’t able to stop them before people died.”
“So anger set it off.” Kitchens nodded as if he already anticipated this answer. “Darwin, what you’re experiencing, I know a bit about it.”
“You do?” Darwin wasn’t sure how anyone else knew anything about his unique, inherited curse. Maybe there was a berserker class that had a similar attribute, but Kitchens hadn’t even started selecting abilities yet from the sound of their earlier conversation.
“There are some things, small details about a man’s first time in a live combat zone, that you just can’t help but notice a lot of war stories have in common. Most of them start when the fan gets assaulted by fertilizer, and they are generally all told by a hero. If you were telling the story about your first time in combat, for instance, you’d be the hero, and the story might start off rather simple. You might be just walking through a town on a day so hot that five topless supermodels on a beach couldn’t compare to it when all of the sudden a bang happens. Two bangs, three bangs, and either you or your buddy next to you, especially if you’re both green horns, will piss himself. You’ll duck and run for cover. And I don’t mean the general cover where you sleep under the truck so a loose shot in the night doesn’t pick you off, I mean the type of cover where you need something solid to hold you up because your legs start shaking and your breath goes ragged.” Kitchens started his story, and while Darwin wasn’t sure if he was talking about his own experiences or just stories he had heard, he couldn’t stop listening to every detail. Kitchens normally had a laid back personality, but as he spoke now, his hands came alive a bit, and his voice seemed to move up and down like it was trying to sweeten the story with a rhythm that wasn’t suited for any song.
“It gets worse as time goes by too,” Kitchens went on. “If you watch the movies, especially war movies, it makes the fights seem like they last forever. Who knows? Maybe they did at one point, but from the stories I’ve heard, the tellers were thankful they usually only lasted about ten to fifteen minutes, rarely up to thirty. Each second that clicks on by your first time, you feel big. Huge, but not in a good way. Not in a macho, masculine way. Well, some people do since they are born out of steel--but for the people I knew, their first time, they felt big in the sort of way where you were aware of every square inch of their body that was exposed. Every single possible piece of flesh that could be hit by enemy gunfire added to the panic, and they wished they would shrink up, and they prayed to be small for the first time in their lives. Then, as if it’s just the way of the world, things escalate because your NCO, your squadmate, that driver you split a cigarette with when you couldn’t find a shop nearby, whomever it is next to you, won’t take cowardice on the field. They won’t have anything against you for it, but they just don’t want to die. A trenchmate who won’t carry his weight is a surefire way to end up in a bed of posies to them, so they kick and push you to go out and do something.
“That’s when you grab your 240 bravo, man up and start shooting the first thing you see that looks like a threat: a window with a flash that might have been a gunshot or a man who looks like he’s holding a gun--not that you can be sure from the distance he’s at. Not that you can see anything but movement to begin with. You unload and keep unloading, one shot after another, until your NCO knocks you to stop because your barrel has melted, and he doesn’t want the bullets to turn the end of your weapon into a small shrapnel bomb.” Then Kitchens said nothing. He just looked at Darwin for a good long minute. Darwin wasn’t sure what to say after a story like that, but just as he was about to open his mouth and break the silence, Kitchens started again.
“Darwin, life isn’t much different than this video game. You didn’t go into some berserk rage that you couldn’t control. You just snapped under the pressure. You weren’t on autopilot; you were just acting so fast your brain couldn’t keep up. It’s not like you’re slow or stupid or can’t think faster than your hands can move. It’s just that you and your brain both know that, when the time comes, if you spend even a second trying to figure out if that guy in the window is a friend or a foe, armed or unarmed, if it actually is an enemy, then it’s a second that just got you shot. My guess is that you’ll never be able to get rid of that tunnel vision in some fights. It’s just not possible . . . but you can solve the lack of control. That is something you can fix.”
“How?” Darwin asked, though he was already starting to draw a conclusion as to what the answer would be. Kitchens had practically spelled it out. The problem exists because I’m emotionally weak.
“Well, for starters, it never flares up in dungeons, does it? We’ve leveled together for a while, no problems. But it pops up instantly when you are fighting people with lives on the line? I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve been worried about something or someone dying while fighting and gone into that autopilot state, is it?” Kitchens asked.
“No, it isn’t.” Darwin remembered that the first time he had ever experienced it was when he was in the tournament and found out that it was a fight to the death. He had thought that if he failed, he’d end up as a corpse permanently.
“This world is so realistic that no human can reasonably tell the difference, and NPCs don’t come back. I understand that, but other people aren’t having this issue because they aren’t failing to separate the game world from reality. Sometimes, when your emotions turn on, you need to learn to shut them down, bottle them up and pack them away for when you can process them with a cool head. If you can learn that patience, learn to focus on the objective without fretting over the consequences if you fail or about the things going on around you, I think you won’t have that problem again.”
Darwin wasn’t used to Kitchens talking straight. He had half-expected even that speech to come as ‘Fire should be . . .’ and ‘You need to be more like water when . . .’ or something. But, for what Darwin guessed was a very personal reason, thi
s wasn’t the type of subject the man minced words with or took a chance that the other party didn’t get it. “I understand,” Darwin said, nodding.
“Good. Now, you need to do your best to not let it happen again. Minx, Mclean and Daniel may be joking around about the topic, but that’s only because they don’t know what else to say or do. You were pretty ghastly in that fight: you even shoved one person’s body part into another person’s mouth to kill him.”
“Right . . . So, to ease the tension, I probably should . . .” Darwin wondered what sagely solution could possibly make people less nervous around him.
“Ease the tension? Just let that happen naturally. I’m going to tell you an important lesson you learn as a man: Sometimes you should just run away. In fact, you should handle this subject just like I handle the topic of sex with Minx: Never bring it up and hope the other party forgets all about it.” Kitchens nodded, happy with his advice.
“Kitchens, thank you.” Darwin figured there were a lot of potentially-eloquent things he could say, but the man had opened up about what felt like a rather dark, real-life story to give him advice about his problems and make it relatable, so he didn’t want to botch the moment with a lame response.
“No problem, kid,” Kitchens said and turned to head back to the rest of the party.
Kid? I’m like thirty years old! How old are you that you think I’m a kid? He wanted to ask, but he figured there wouldn’t be a point.
When they walked back to the group, Minx was riding on Fuzzy Wuzzy’s shoulders as the bear did circles around Daniel and Mclean, who were busy talking and laughing about something.
“So what’s the game plan? Go find another dungeon and kill some more people or wait around and see if yet another group shows up?” Mclean asked.
“Wait, where’s Alex?” Darwin asked, avoiding the obvious ‘How many groups actually showed up’ question that he really wanted to ask.
“He took the wounded inside and went to reorganize the troops. Said he’d be back out if the scouts gave word again.”
“Well, we might as well wait for Kass or Valerie anyway.” Darwin shrugged. “Do most guilds have this problem?”
“It depends. If they based their entire guild in a mountain, they might.” Mclean shrugged too, tossing one of her knives up in the air and catching it.
“Or if they have a secret quest set by a mysterious NPC to kill their guild leader and break the portal to Hell, that might also explain the attack,” Daniel said, moving his finger around in that weird and awkward way people used to back during the hand motion technology craze.
“Wait, what?” Even Fuzzy Wuzzy seemed curious as they all stopped what they were doing and looked at Daniel.
“Yeah. There is a huge reward on your head, Darwin. You’re marked as the boss of this dungeon, and it’s said that you’re protecting an evil portal to Hell that will unleash a flood of Demons. Since the beta stage is ending, and the game is making its official release soon, players are speculating that this is going to be the huge loot giveaway quest. They are starting to migrate from all over to participate, even though half the forum is complaining that there wouldn’t be just ‘one’ quest on ‘one’ side of the map since it’d be too unfair to the other regions.” Daniel’s shocked expression made him look as if he had seen a ghost. “It even has your race listed, Darwin. It says you’re the mighty King of the Demons. I mean, I don’t know if StormGuard Alliance is a monarchy, but you guys are Demons, right?”
“Well, this really does complicate things, doesn’t it?” Darwin looked back at Lawlheima. “Anyone have any suggestions on how to handle this?”
Chapter 4 – Flap Protection Saves Lives
Kass:
Kass had never been happier to see the front of her house in her life than she was when Charles’s driver dropped her off right outside of it after that incredibly awkward breakfast, so, when she finally got home and logged on, the euphoria was still very much present. That break from the tension and drama made her feel lighter than a feather as she booted up her character. Today will be a better day, she told herself, trying her best to put behind the heavy topics and ignore the conversations and events of the last twenty-four hours.
As she logged in, finding herself still inside Lawlheima where she had logged out the night before, she saw an NPC clearing away the Blue-Drake camp that had spawned right next to her. Then, as she was walking to the entrance, she noticed Valerie, who was staring down at her legs and moving them around a little.
“Hey, Valerie! What’s up? Did you just log on too?” Kass asked as she ran over to her winged friend. She wasn’t exactly close to Daniel, Mclean and Valerie, but she still did her best to be chummy with them.
It sometimes felt like the guild was broken into three groups. The first was Minx, Fuzzy Wuzzy, Kitchens and herself; the second was Daniel, Valerie and Mclean; and the third was Alex and the rest of the NPCs. The only common factor in each group seemed to be the horned hero himself, Darwin. It wasn’t exactly like she had planned it that way, or anyone had, but it’s just how the groups had naturally developed due to who hung out more. She was kind of happy that, after the last big battle, apparently everyone other than herself had bonded. That’s why she was putting on her best smile and was stopping to chat with Valerie before rushing to go meet up with Darwin. Though being around Darwin is kind of my job now, isn’t it? she grumbled to herself. She had only told Charles that she would think about it, but while they were eating, Charles had insisted that he was going to act with the assumption that she had already taken him up on his offer and sent a stipend to her account. God, it feels so dirty thinking that hanging out with my friends is just a job I’m being paid for, she lamented to herself.
“Oh.” Valerie, who had been lost in her own thoughts, looked up at Kass with a kind of surprised expression. “I guess I’m fine? Maybe? Do you see anything different?”
If you get sick in real life, does your avatar in the game even show it? Kass wondered as she tilted her head. She was about to respond with a joking answer like ‘No, you could definitely use more makeup than a DIY zombie kit would even have,’ but then she stopped herself. Am I even close enough to her to make that joke? she wondered as she inspected Valerie’s face. “I . . . I don’t know. Did you cut your hair?” she asked, knowing that was generally the physical change most people failed to notice about a girl.
“My hair?” Valerie looked up. “No . . . No, it looks fine. Oh, well . . . Let’s umm . . . Let’s not worry about it then. I just thought . . . Never mind. Let’s go meet up with the others.” She forced a rather painful-looking smile and started heading outside. Kass really didn’t know where the others were. She forgot more times than she remembered that she could track Darwin using the map feature, but it didn’t matter.
“Yeah, sounds great,” Kass replied, catching up with her. “I’m looking forward to getting some levels. Level 60 should give us some great new skills.” She grinned ear to ear. Just thinking about the awesome abilities she might get made her mouth water more than the smell of a well-marinated tenderloin barbecuing on a hot day.
“I just can’t wait to see the dungeons! Or can you imagine the next towns we will run into? First that city of glass, then the cool walled city . . . I wonder what we’ll see next. It’s like going through an architectural wonderland!” Valerie seemed, at least to Kass, to be a bit too enthused about the layouts of different cities. “I wonder what the City of Light will look like . . .” She trailed off for a moment. “But, yeah, even this place is going to look so great when it’s finished!”
Kass, who had never seen Valerie talk about something with much enthusiasm, had to kind of shake her head at the poor girl’s interest. “Well, if you’re really into that stuff, I suppose we could talk to Darwin about going north and checking out that Arabian-themed city? It’s supposed to feature some of the most intricate, beautiful buildings. I hear a lot of them have ornate, gold-capped roofs.”
“Arabian city? They
’re not going to make us cover up, are they?” Valerie laughed, pulling her wing over her face in lieu of any cloth.
“Nah, it’s just the design theme that’s Arabian. The culture is more European. The races have a Nordic touch like Jotunn and Earth-Walkers rather than Djinn,” Kass said through a chuckle at Valerie’s joke. She’s not a bad person to hang out with. Kinda funny in her own way, Kass noted.
“Earth-Walkers . . .” The words made Valerie look like she had lost her footing for a second as she considered what Kass had said. “So I guess Fire-Walkers weren’t the only elemental stompers. I’m kind of surprised. I thought they might use a different body part for the description. After all, Fire-Walkers could summon fire from pretty much anywhere. Maybe switch it up with the naming? Something like Earth-Hands maybe?”
“Or Ice-Cro--” Kass began to add onto Valerie’s thought, but Valerie quickly interrupted her lewd comment.
“No! Not going there! Clean thoughts, Kass!” Valerie was laughing at it even as she stopped her. “Hey, what the . . . Holy crud, what happened?”
When Kass and Valerie exited the cave, they were greeted by a full phalanx that stood quietly facing forward and blocking them as if it were a closed gate. In front of the phalanx was a raised earthen wall of sorts with one part of it broken down and traces of smoke coming up in the distance behind it. Kass couldn’t see what Valerie was talking about though as the avian had flown up a bit the second she had seen the wall block their entrance.
“Lady Kass.” Alex appeared at Kass’s side almost as soon as she saw the phalanx. “Would you like me to escort you through the men to the Great Lord Darwin?”
Ah, yeah. I guess Alex could help me walk through this thing. “Sure, if you don’t mind,” she answered. When do I get ‘Great’ added to my title? She laughed to herself, remembering how important that was to her at one time not too long ago. Now, she’d just be happy to play the game without worrying about evil, scheming teenagers stealing her man and destroying humanity before she could get a first date. How exactly does playing a game help someone to undo humanity? I still don’t get it. Something isn’t adding up. Kass frowned. Am I just too dumb to understand what she could possibly be plotting, or is it a lack of information?
