by K. T. Hanna
“So, I might not be able to die it’s not certain? I’m in my mind, about to die in the game world, and I’m here because you wanted to talk about what you can’t tell me because I need to find it out for myself?” She clapped her hands and laughed, sarcasm dripping from every action. “Fantastic. Then I’d say we’re done, can I just get revived now?”
“Not yet. First you need to accept something.”
She rolled her eyes. “Enough with the cryptic Mr. ’I’m not Belius even though I speak like I am.’”
The shade sighed, clasped and unclasped its hands and then looked back up at her, eyes gleaming a soft green in the darkness. “You need to improve your Mental Acuity levels. If you do not, I don’t believe you’ll survive this world. You are too scared to use them at the moment, and this is hindering not only your character growth, but the strength you could lend your friends and guild.”
He held up a hand to stop her as she opened her mouth.
“Secondly, if you die right now and choose to revive or reincarnate, I cannot guarantee that you will return.”
Murmur blinked, trying to process that statement and failing abysmally. Did he really mean her character would suffer permanent death? She waited for him to continue, trying to be patient.
“Thirdly, because of the mental prowess you’re developing, you will be able to forestall death as long as a party member or friend is actively trying to heal you, if they are in the process of casting a heal, or else have placed a heal over time on you. This ability is fearsome, and it is game changing for both you and others. If you time it right, you might be able to save a tank in the midst of a dangerous fight. But it requires prowess to execute, as well as Mental Acuity, and the confidence that comes from believing you can do anything.”
“Wait. You’re telling me if I die I might not come back properly and I might be gone from the game world?” She ran the words over in her mind, still not quite getting it. The game didn’t have permadeath, she’d seen that already. “And all of that is tied to what I don’t yet know?”
The shade nodded, ever so helpfully.
“But if I choose to accept this ability, and what—prepare my mind with it prior to combat or something? Then I can cheat death as long as someone is actively healing me?”
It nodded again.
“And you think that somewhere in this mess you’re actually giving me a choice of what I should do?” She glared at the messenger, despite the darkness somehow knowing he could see.
“Well,” it said a little sheepishly. “I guess when you put it that way, it’s not really a choice, but more of a given.”
“And what are the drawbacks?” She stood straight knowing that looking a gift horse in the mouth was probably a bad and smelly idea, but this was far too generous not to have any strings attached.
The shade hesitated. “In order for this ability to be enabled and to continue to grow, you must no longer deny the use of your Mental Acuity. You have to use it to strengthen it, to reach the next tier. Otherwise, this ability will save you this once, and never again. Nor will you be able to direct it to save any of your friends.”
“Basically—use the abilities you unlocked, or lose them forever?” She mulled it over in her mind. After all, what did she really have to lose? Apart from potentially her ability to play this game, which she still didn’t understand. “Is that the only side effect?”
It paused, as if mulling over the question. “You will become stronger. You’ll gain a powerful mind shield that can convince you to overcome death.”
“Oh, so it’s more of a mind over matter thing? That I can get behind. You’re saying this will convince myself, or technically anyone I cast it on, at the time of near death, that I, or they, won’t die?” Now it was clicking in her mind, and she began to feel a genuine thrill for the ability. Maybe it was worth the pain to level up her Mental Acuity tiers.
“That’s pretty much it. But beware, if you’re ever in a serious flux of doubt, if you haven’t figured out what it is that makes you special yet—it might be better not to use it.” The warning rang through the vast space around them, sort of like a death knell from a bell.
“Then I accept.”
A flash of blinding silver light shot from the shade toward her, hitting her in both the chest and head. The scream that tore from her throat rendered it raw and aching as her body arched in ways that should have broken bones.
It stopped abruptly, dropping her to the ground like a rag doll where she clenched her eyes shut and struggled to draw in breath.
Storm Entertainment
Somnia Online Division
Software Development Team Offices
Second Day
Laria dived through the transcripts she’d printed out in hard copy. Real paper was so damned annoying. That and paper cuts, all a part of the tree’s revenge. She supposed that was just a little bit of karma trying to come back and wreak havoc with humans. Still, even if it had gotten expensive due to the lack of natural resources out there these days, sometimes it was the only way to make sure she wasn’t missing something. Something vital.
Shayla’s concern over Ava’s death had reached Laria in a way not much else had for a long time. The burns around the woman’s head that had nothing to do with her actual death, the odd wound, and the prevalence of Michael in all of her communications. Except there was a hole, in all the emails, in all of Ava’s meticulous record keeping.
Laria hadn’t believed it when Shayla brought it to her attention, and since she’d discussed a few things about the headgear’s progress with Ava while the woman had been testing them, she knew she’d spoken with Ava about her discussions with Michael, about how they kept testing sequences. While they hadn’t spoken in months about it, Laria had still been certain Ava’s mentions of him would be in her emails, in their email correspondence. But they weren’t.
She pursed her lips and frowned, chewing on the inside of her cheek in consternation. After all, there was only one possible explanation, and she’d already visited them once before, so surely—surely they’d know why this was occurring. Grasping several pieces of Ava’s logs in her fists, logs with their dates redacted, she stood up and headed to the server room, disregarding the mess she was leaving behind. She’d deal with that later.
The halls were empty, most of their development team still busy with the initial phases of launch. They would be for another good week or two. Holding her hand out, the scanner took her fingerprint first, and her ocular profile. The room opened up, and briefly Laria wondered if the AIs could access things outside of their hubs. After all, hadn’t they given them internet access for the express purpose of making sure the experiences in the game were unique, and to make sure actions taking place in the game world weren’t spilling over into the real world? They were meant to prevent it being used as a staging ground for real attacks or actions to come.
No one else was in the server room. It was filled with a metallic hum, a lulling sequence that emanated from the huge machines as they calibrated their work. She took a deep breath, situating herself in front of the machines, hoping against hope she was wrong, and she had no backup plan at all if she was right.
“Sui? Rav? Thra?” Laria steeled herself against the inevitable whirring silence. “What happened to Ava? Can you tell me at all?”
The silence became unnerving, a strange sequence of flashing lights and finally, Sui spoke. The red lights glinting on Rav’s terminal seemed to have an angry flare.
“Ava was a tester for Michael. You should be able to find out most of her details from her files. Should we send them to your terminal?”
It was one of the most reasonable tones she’d ever heard from Sui, and immediately it put Laria on her guard. They could access her terminal directly without specific permission. That was already one piece of information she’d slotted away. “I’ve been studying her files. There just seem to be some communications missing from her documents. Conversations I recall having with her. I was w
ondering if they’d disappeared into some area of storage I wasn’t aware of.”
Laria almost held her breath. It was the closest way for her to ask them if they’d had anything directly to do with the incident, or at least the disappearance of anything that could lead them to help solve Ava’s death.
It was Sui who answered again. “They are likely somewhere there. Perhaps they contained information she wanted to keep for herself and are encrypted.”
“If you could scan for any, and alert us, it would be greatly appreciated.” It was the only piece of hope Laria could cling to.
The machines began their whirring again, and she knew a dismissal when she heard one. She couldn’t help the lingering feeling that there were secrets the AIs were keeping.
Real World Day 3: Somnia Online
“Mur?” Sinister’s voice held tears and concern, raw like she’d been sobbing for so long her throat was about to bleed. It wasn’t some metallic shade thing, but her best friend in the entire universe. The only person she’d realistically consider killing for, or providing an alibi for.
Murmur stirred, her entire body aching and her head throbbing. She felt weak and feeble, her health was dangerously low. “Sin?” She managed to squeeze out the name, but her own throat felt raw and painful, so it was more like a whisper.
“Guys. Guys!” Sinister’s voice held so much joy, it infused Mur’s soul. “She’s okay!”
“Health is still low.” Havoc murmured, his own concern evident in his grumpiness.
Sinister tossed her hair, Murmur could practically hear it. “Everyone’s a critic. Veranol and I have been working our asses off.”
Health rising slightly higher, Murmur struggled to let herself sit up, and pushed her back against the tree. Slowly, shading her eyes at first with her hand, she opened them. Words flashed immediately across her vision.
Forestall Death
If applied in the seconds before potential death takes place, this will enable you to maintain your health at 0.5 hit points as long as you are receiving some sort of healing effect.
Effect: Target is able to ward off death for a limited period of time and will not die when they should have, as long as heals are actively channeled in their direction.
Cost: Requires Mental Acuity at 60
Caution: This spell can only be used on one person at a time. Attempting to use it twice at the same time is not recommended. This will usually result in things worse than death. Literally.
She glanced at the description again and a small groan escaped her. No side-effects my ass.
“Hey.” She said to her friends, not sure how to bring up her new ability, or how to share the weird conversation she’d just experienced. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”
Her health bar gradually filled and the wounds on her arms began to knit together. She watched them in fascination as the skin knit together flawlessly. “They need this sort of plastic surgery in the real world. Imagine what people would pay for no scars.”
She held up her arms for everyone to see.
Sinister scowled. “Hey, try not to be so flippant. You really had us worried. I thought we’d lost you again.”
“Again?” Murmur raised an eyebrow. “That was my first potential death.”
Sin colored a bright red, which looked odd on her purplish skin. “You know what I mean!”
Murmur shrugged, dismissing the phrasing for now even if it lingered in the back of her mind. “I just had the weirdest near-death experience ever and got a weird new ability. Also, I’m sorry for that pull, I should have known my pet would cause a dozen creatures to follow him because he turned coat on them.”
“Well we forgive you.” Mellow grinned at her. “And you’re still gorgeous, even half dead.”
“Shush, Mel.” Murmur sighed, and Mel patted her on the shoulder leaving off with a gentle affectionate squeeze. Over the years she’d learned they dealt with unease in ways others didn’t, and right now it was quite comforting. “I have new clothes to change into, and by golly, it’s a good thing because these other ones are shredded. Stand behind me girls, I don’t trust the guys.”
Rash, Mel, and Sin stood next to the tree, giving Mur plenty of room to change. She wasn’t entirely sure if her undergarments were still in one piece. But they were and once she pulled on the robe and pants, she felt a hundred times better. Clicking on the bracers and slipping on the gloves and boots, she swirled around in a mess of silvery black.
“Well, it’s still a robe,” Sin said begrudgingly, “but it does look good.”
Rash sashayed her hips. “Be a monk, always wear pants.”
“Yes, but you’re the only one of us who’s ever liked getting punched in the face.” Sin quipped without missing a beat.
Rashlyn opened her mouth in mock astonishment. “Hey, that’s the key to me, I avoid getting hit. Mostly.”
“Trust me, I’m a healer, I know when you get hit.” Sin raised an eyebrow and Murmur laughed, putting an arm around her friend’s shoulders.
“C’mon, let’s get back to the others.” She had a sudden thought as they took the dozen steps back to where the others were waiting. “Hey Dansyn, if you can charm one of the guys at the next look out, just have him jump off that tower. That should mostly kill him.”
Dansyn smiled. “My charm is virtually useless, but it might work for that.”
“Worth a try, since mine obviously worked a little too well.” She paused. “I wonder if you could make him climb the tree the lookout is attached to and then fall. That might work.”
Devlish stood in front of her and squinted. “You sure you’re okay, Mur? You’re being a little bloodthirsty even for you.”
“Shut up.” Maybe she was, but she was the one who screwed up last time, so she didn’t want to have them all fighting for their lives this time. “Look, I’m just trying not to fuck up again. That’s all, and it’s going to require some thinking outside of the box, or lookout, or forest.”
He watched her for a few seconds and nodded. “Fine, but please, tell us if something is up. We’re all here for the same reason.”
Murmur smiled and everyone crept far around the first camp, toward the second. It took a good while, which meant that each group could easily take a camp and work on it, developing a nice rhythm. Once they had the lookouts sorted, anyway.
The rangers took aim, and this time Dansyn stood ready to charm the other sentry, which actually worked well. The little gnoll even listened when he told it to climb up the tree as far as it could and then let go. They all watched it fall very effectively, its arms flailing as it did so, and it dropped to the ground with a rather crunchy splat.
“Good call Mur.” Dansyn frowned at his HUD. “Worked like a charm.”
Murmur released the raid window and smiled at all her friends. “This is going to be fun. Take a camp each and see how respawns are. Hopefully there’ll be enough little gnolls for us to share.”
Devlish led their group back to the first camp and they picked a good spot to pull to. “We’re lucky this has so much tree cover, it would be a lot more difficult to get to these if their line of sight was always clear and able to see us.”
Merlin laughed softly. “Blah, blah, blah, Dev. How about we pull?”
“Heads up everyone. I’m going to need to use my Mental Acuity shit more often, so I may accidentally trigger really bad headaches on occasion.” Murmur figured she should be upfront about it. And since she hadn’t been able to figure out a cool way to bring it into their conversation. This would have to do. “Also, technically, if you’re about to die, but believe your healers can keep you alive through it, I have a sort of mind enforcer ability that can hold you at 0.5 health for a time period. No, I don’t get it either.”
Sin gaped at her. “That’s how you stayed alive?”
Murmur shrugged. “Technically, although I had a nice long chat with some weird hooded dude in the middle of a black cavernous room, but you know, game stuff.”
Sin’
s brow furrowed. “But Mur, you were only gone for like thirty seconds.”
The good thing about pulling wave after wave of gnolls was that Murmur didn’t have time to think on what Sinister had said. Whatever it was, it had seemed to take far longer in that dark place in her mind for her to speak with Mr. Shade.
She felt irritated. The good news was, she could take that annoyance out on all of those poor unsuspecting little gnolls. With a hundred and twenty-five Mental Acuity thanks to her gorgeous necklace, she practiced keeping a minimum balance of sixty. Just in case she needed to Forestall Death any time soon.
Using Mind Bolt at semi-regular intervals helped her understand how to use it better, and how to use it more often without incurring those wrathful headaches. Mind Bolt was an amazing silence, and lasted almost five seconds every time now. It made dealing with casters in particular far less obnoxious.
As they continued on, she felt ashamed considering her pointed refusal to use them for almost three full levels. She’d been an idiot. Not using them severely diminished their strength as a group. It wasn’t one of her finest moments.
Phase Shift was more fun than Mezing because it trapped them in their own mind, but not only did it take a lot of Mental Acuity, it pulled a lot of aggro. She’d lost track of how long they’d been there when Devlish cut through her self-reflection with an almost shout.
“We have a named!” He sounded so excited, like a little kid at Christmas.
Murmur now understood named mobs in this game. It was code for the enchanter is going to have to do a lot of work to make this fight happen smoothly for her party. Which was okay. Teamwork was how they got through things.
Nameds helped take the dullness out of grinding, though with the constant banter of her guild, she hardly noticed the tedium. This was a whole new level compared to previous games.
