Alex looked at the meal he had just been given. Aside from the vibrant blue colour, it looked like any other bowl of baked beans he had eaten in his life. He sniffed it experimentally, before finally shovelling a heaped spoonful into his mouth.
Baked Hogan Beans. Food Skills – Health up medium. Stamina up medium. Fifty per cent chance to activate Fire Resistance rank four.
Alex put the spoon back into the bowl, reaching for his notebook as he chewed the mouthful. Fifty-fifty odds at four ranks of a resistance was a good buff, better than most meals he had eaten, and Alex was eager to add it to his growing list. Then the flavour hit him.
His tongue seared, pain spreading from front to back in a ripple of agony. His nose began to run, his eyes water as the spice escaped from his mouth and spread through his body.
“Be careful with those,” Cassius said, his warning suspiciously late, a smile on his lips and a glimmer in his eye. “They’ve got some spice to them.”
“Yeah…yeah…I noticed.” Alex’s voice was wheezy, the spiciness of the beans robbing him of breath.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Casey said, swallowing her third spoonful.
“It just took me by surprise, that's all.” Breath had returned to Alex's lungs, the spice starting to fade. “I'll finish it.” Alex fished out another spoon and stared at the beans wobbling atop it. “Eventually.”
***
The beast roared, angry at the human’s attempt. They had dropped down from the mushroom whilst it ate, gripping onto the armour running down its spine. The machina thrashed, trying to shake its adversary free but the human hung on tightly. With its options limited, the machina threw itself to the side, rolling onto its back as it tried to crush its unwanted passenger.
Scrone felt the beast shifting its weight and released his grasp, leaping from its back as it rolled over. He grunted as he hit the ground, wet mud splashing up his ankles. He watched the machina as it tried to right itself, the heavy beast rolling back and forth, edging closer to the water with every motion.
It had been too soon. The length of time it took to form a bond with a machina varied depending on its type. Scrone had spent the last few days leaving the massive beast meals at the base of his camp, but the arrival of shadows atop the far ridge had forced his hand. The beast had been predictable, coming for its meal as the light faded. Scrone had waited above, intending to try and dominate the machina.
“Damn it. Fine,” he said, breaking into a run whilst the machina was distracted. Scrone was disappointed, the beast would have made a fine mount. Without its aid, Scrone wasn’t sure he could defeat the approaching heretics. One of the Chosen People’s strongest warriors and chieftain of his clan, Scrone was no fool. He would no doubt be outnumbered and had been living on scraps for the past few months. He knew he was in no condition for such a battle.
An idea occurred to him as he began to climb up towards the camp, his feet finding purchase on the ladder that hung from the mushroom's cap. Scraps of food. It was how he had been luring the big machina in, tossing it the bodies of smaller machina from above. Scrone still had a few left, piled up next to the tent haphazardly. If he couldn’t ride the machina, he could still make use of it.
***
Anaya pressed on through the night, each step bringing her closer to her quarry. She had been pushing herself to her limit as she tried to close the gap. Anaya was close now, the wagons had slowed as they had found their path through the charred remnants of the forest, allowing her to make considerable gains on them. Now they were just up the ridge, light from a campfire giving away their presence. Stealth wasn’t a concern for the heretics, buy Anaya knew it wouldn’t be. They were far beyond the area where other knights were operating.
The sound of laughter carried through the air, the knights up ahead joking amongst themselves. Anaya felt a knot in her stomach, a righteous anger building in her heart. The people up above had killed her brother and gotten her cast out from her clan, and yet they were acting as if they bore no weight from their actions. It felt wrong, that these people she hated with such fury, didn’t seem wracked by the same turbulent emotions. She wanted to bust out from her hiding place, to storm the camp and strike down those who had wronged her. It took every ounce of Anaya’s strength to restrain herself. Taking action now would be a mistake. She had to bide her time.
Driller let out a low whir from its cogs. The machina had followed Anaya since she had saved it, keeping at her heel the entire time. It had been welcome company the past few days, and for the few precious moments where Anaya had found time to sleep a convenient source of warmth. The bond formed between a Chosen and their machina was an unshakable thing, and whilst Anaya would have preferred a larger more aggressive creature to aid her, she wouldn’t swap Driller for anything.
“I understand, we keep quiet, we keep hidden. I can’t imagine that Emilia has anything nice planned for them. She’s sinister, don’t you think?”
The machina ground its gears and nudged against Anaya’s leg.
“I'll assume that's you agreeing with me.” Anaya tucked herself behind a rock, tucking her knees close to her chest. The heretics would begin their descent into the swamp tomorrow. She had caught some of their conversations, and understood they were aiming to travel beyond it. Exploring unknown terrain wasn’t knew to Anaya. Her father had trusted her over and over to strike out into the unknown, leading scouts into new territories. Now she was doing it for someone else, serving a new cause she didn’t quite understand.
“Let’s try and get some sleep, hey?” Anaya beckoned to Driller, and machina tucked itself to her side. “We’re going to need it I think.”
***
In the light of day, the swamp was something to behold. With the sun settling on the water, light seemed to glimmer through the gloom. One thing was much more noticeable than it had been at dusk. The gigantic Deus heading west to meet its counterpart had come crashing through. A band had been carved through the centre of the swamp, mushrooms crushed underfoot and deep gouges pressed into the ground. The water had rushed to fill these new lakes, irreparably altering the terrain of the swamplands.
It was going to be a problem. Simian had brought a map of the swamps, one that showed routes safe enough for wagons to pass over without sinking into the murk. Those strips of solid ground had been lost when the Deus had rearranged the layout of the swamp with is passing. Crossing to the other side was going to be a slow, dangerous journey.
“Just our luck,” Casey said, shielding her eyes with her hand.
“Something like this was bound to happen,” Alex said. “There’s not much we can about it. We needed to go wandering around anyway to look for those mushrooms. Just means it will take a little longer.”
“You’re sounding chirpy.”
“Well, I've been up since dawn thanks to those beans. Good buffs or not, don't think I'll eat those again.”
“Charming. This is where we found that darkstone ore, wasn’t it?” Casey said, swiftly changing the subject. “Might be an idea to pick some more up on our way through.”
Alex nodded. “That make’s sense. Only real problem is the vein we found was right there, wasn’t it?” He pointed at the swamp below them, to one of the newly formed lakes. “You fancy a swim to go get it? If it’s not dust.”
“Maybe not. We might find some other veins though, especially in the caves.” Casey pointed across the swamp. Barely visible through the mushrooms was a cliff face, a tiny dark crack creeping through. It was one of a series of entrances to the cluster of caves where hopefully they would find the mushrooms they were after. “We can hope, hey?”
“Ready to go?” Simian approached them from behind, barging his way between the two of them. The retired knight had his rifle clutched close to his chest. He wasn’t the nimblest person anymore, but Simian was still a crack shot. You didn’t survive to be older in the aether lands without being tough. “Quicker we get moving, quicker we can get out of this place. Never the biggest
fan of all the water.”
“Hard to loot bodies if they’re under all that muck,” Cassius said. He was sitting on the nearest wagon, checking the breach of his cannon. “Probably not worth your time.”
“I’ll ignore the snipe. But yes, if you die under that muck, it’ll be so bloody hard to get your body we probably won’t bother.” Simian strode towards Cassius and tapped the side of the wagon. “So try not to get killed, hey?”
Chapter Eight
Board Meeting
Eric allowed himself a smile beneath the visor of his helmet. The plan was working well, the players eagerly getting to work helping construct the devices that would hold back the aether. When this was all done, Eric would make sure that those who built the binding stones were transferred back to headquarters. The research team would love to get their hands on the technology.
It had been hard, the past few months, surviving in the aether lands on their own. The system failure had come as a surprise, transport between the two worlds blocked by some unknown hand. Eric knew what that meant, he had seen the reports. His body back on Earth was dead, his mind permanently locked to the body forged from aether. The science team trapped here with him were certain if they could fix the issue it was possible to return, but it would mean creating a second aetheric body back on Earth. Returning to his original form was off the table.
That wasn't a problem, not for Eric. His new body was better than his old one drastically. He was stronger than he had ever been and had the stamina of a young man again. Like the rest of the executive staff, he had been able to customise his new body's abilities. At the time it had just been a bit of fun, coming up with a superpower and having the science team implement it, now Eric wished he had asked for more.
A player pushed past, carrying a silver orb proudly in their arms. Eric assumed it was a component for the binding stones. The player was smiling wide, neon machina blood splashed across their armour. Eric was glad that the players' abilities had been restricted to enhancing their physical abilities only. They unsettled him, how eagerly they killed whatever they were pointed at. He knew that they thought nothing here was real, that everything was just code and numbers, but it still felt sinister.
“Keeping yourself busy, I see.” A voice boomed from the shadows, a deep reverberating base that caused Eric’s armour to rattle.
“Someone has to do something. All the discoveries in the universe won’t help us if we can’t get home to share them.” Eric turned around to face the hut behind him. The sun was on the far side of it, causing a long shadow to stretch across the ground.
The darkness began to pool, a section of the shadow growing blacker by the moment. It coalesced into a single spot of pure oblivion that then stretched out from the shadow, taking the form of a person. The darkness faded, leaving only a suited man standing in its place. His hair was so grey it was nearly silver and a short sharply trimmed beard to match. He flicked his left hand, shaking off the last of the shadow clinging to him like it was water.
“This is your something? Recruiting the help of these…natives?”
“This was board approved, Austin. Not that you would know, you didn’t bother to attend the meeting.”
Austin rolled his eyes. He gestured at the ground and the shadow stretched again, forming the shape of a chair. He took a seat, the ethereal chair taking his weight in defiance of physics. “The board! It’s hardly a board is it, four executives deciding what’s best for everybody. Think that the others back on Earth, on the real actual board, would be pleased with that?”
“I think they would approve of our initiative, yes,” Eric said. Austin’s choice of customisation was hardly a surprise to Eric. The man before him had a reputation in the company for doing whatever he needed to get ahead, slinking around in the shadows fitted him well.
Austin let a chuckle cross his lips, barely restrained contempt carried by the sound. “Initiative? You think all this is initiative? For God's sake, you look like a fool, wearing all that nonsense. Do you think it makes you look tough? Being clad in armour like these idiots.” He gestured towards a line of players waiting to hand in materials.
“It’s important we maintain the illusion this is a game.”
“To keep the masses under control. So you can find a way home and report back all your little successes? You need to think bigger, Eric. We have an entire world at our fingertips and have all the advantages. Technology, manpower, weapons. Hell, I can’t imagine that there is anyone in this forsaken place that can stop us.”
“Stop what?” Eric lifted his visor, locking his eyes with Austin.
“Whilst you've been down here playing with magic stones and tip-toeing about, the board has agreed that we should be more…active. Yours was a nice idea, but it's not necessary, not really. Teams will be here within the day to convince this war leader to be more forthcoming with the location of this other settlement. You can send all of the players back home. We won't be needing them.” Austin stood up and waved his hand, the chair melting back into the shadows.
“These people don’t deserve that.”
“Who cares? I mean honestly, who does? These people nearly wiped themselves out in their ill-conceived crusade. They’re already done for; we would just be moving the timeline along. The board has already voted in your absence, unanimously.”
“So, the board is a good idea when it furthers your agenda then?”
“Of course. I’m not an idiot. This world is a primal place, kill or be killed. Not unlike business in some ways.” Shadows began to swirl around Austin’s feet.
“I want it on record that I object to this. I’ll get it on file!” Eric clenched his fists, his gauntlets rattling as he did.
The darkness climbed up Austin's body, enveloping him. He stood there, his form an inky void. “You mistake me for someone who cares.” Austin dissolved his body mingling with the shadow of the hut. He was gone.
***
Emilia seethed. She was pacing back and forth across the balcony, stopping occasionally to place her hands on the railing and mutter to herself. Austin had backed her into a corner, though he probably didn’t realise. He had proposed to the board that they should simply conquer the chosen people and take the knowledge they needed, rather than rely on Eric’s slower method of building their trust. Taking out the last of the chosen was a boon to the Towers, it was one less threat to worry about, but it meant that something much worse would be coming a lot sooner than Emilia had planned.
“Argh! Why do people always make things complicated,” she said. Emilia was alone, the room behind her empty. She rented a different room every time she visited the city, taking care to keep the ruined dome on the outskirts she used as her real chambers a secret. It was a pain, walking through the ruins every time, but she didn’t have any other choice. She had asked for portals as her customisation, but the implementation left a lot to be desired. Emilia could travel from anywhere to a place she chose as her home point, of from there back to her original location. Using it in the city would rob her of the ability to reach the Towers, an unacceptable outcome at the moment.
She allowed herself another groan of annoyance, before turning her attention to the city below her. Watching people go about their lives had always calmed her and it was no different here in the aether lands. The houses below her were curious things. Ancient concrete buildings patched up with wood and scrap over the centuries, the people living in the stone shells like hermit crabs. The people here had colonised a small section of a once much vaster city. The tavern she had booked a room in was on the tenth floor of what had once been a skyscraper. A network of bridges and walkways stretched from the building to a similar one next to it, the people of this city copying their Tower cousins without realising it.
The similarities between the two groups fascinated Emilia. Like the people of the Towers, the city dwellers had machina hunting guardians that they also called knights. Unlike the Towers though, the city struggled to survive. Machina prowled its
unsettled districts and sometimes grew bold enough to attack directly, whilst resources and food were scarce. A recent shift in the aether had enveloped a large portion of the land the people used for crops. When Friendspace had arrived, offering food, medicine and protection, they had been embraced as heroes, noble visitors from another land. It hadn't taken long for the company to seize complete control of the city, the coup supported by adoring cheers.
Emilia had come to hate the company she worked for. Years of seeing it slowly twist from providing social media into an advertising machine that peddled anything as long as it got engagement had soured her on them. She had been on the verge of quitting when her division had been handed the technology from Friendspace’s latest acquisition, equipment that would go on to be the transfer pods. She knew that the corporation would do anything to get ahead and having an entire world of untapped potential at its fingertips would be too tempting to pass up.
Horton still didn't trust her. His message had come through the system in the dead of night when Emilia had been in the lab completing some paperwork. With her help he had attempted to intercept the initial influx of players, weakening Friendspace's volunteer army and providing a counter to their strength. It hadn't worked as intended, snatching only a few people and shutting down the ability to move between worlds. There had been no issue when Horton had tested the plan on Emilia, allowing her to set up her portal access to the Towers.
Now what she feared was happening. Friendspace, or the splinter faction stuck in the aether lands at least, was making its move. Taking on the Chosen was only the first step, Emilia knew that. Once they had flexed their muscle the Towers would be next. Austin had handled the board like puppets, easily getting his way. Even Emilia had danced to the tune, not eager to tip her hand. Her militia wasn't ready, not in the slightest, and she had no idea what Horton had planned with sending that caravan out west. For all his distrust of her, Emilia had to admit it went both ways, so much of the guild master was a mystery to her still.
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