The Cheater's Return

by Brian McGoldrick

  Inventory Expansion (20 slots)

  Ding!

  Quest: Destroy the Remnant of Daray has been offered.

  Unique Chain Quest: Cannot be refused.

  I use the Inventory Expansion, and the size of my inventory doubles.

  I look at my quest journal, and it is worse than I expected.

  Destroy the Remnant of Daray (Unique) (Storyline Quest: 3 of ??) (Difficulty: ??)

  » Lay the Remnant of Daray to rest.

  » Time Limit: 1 Day

  » Failure: Permanent reduction of all Attributes by 50%

  I look at Raven Goddess. "Do you have the fifty percent penalty?"

  Raven Goddess nods.

  Fuck. This gets better and better. There is no way we can defeat the Remnant of Daray in a straight up fight.

  A sound comes out of my mouth that might be a laugh, and I look at the Remnant of Daray floating over the rectangular stone block. "The Shackles of the Domination want me to destroy you. If I don't, I'll have half of my physical and mental capabilities destroyed."

  While the Remnant of Daray stares at me, long minutes drag by. Strangely, I do not think it is hostile toward me, but I have no idea why it is not.

  "I remember the descent of the Shackles of the Domination. After I was mortally wounded, I secluded myself in my barrow. Eventually, I died, and I was lost in the slumber of the dead. I did not wish become one of the living dead, but I was still bound to my remains. There was no escape for me. I was awoken by the descent of the Shackles. I created this dimensional pocket to escape them, but it was pointless. They found me here and bound me to this place for eternity." The Remnant of Daray stops speaking and seems to stare into space.

  I do not give voice to any comments. There is nothing I could say that would carry any weight with the Remnant of Daray.

  After a long time, the Remnant of Daray looks at me again. "I have no inheritor. I had neither students nor friends. I am not a God and have no Aspect, but I wish to pass my calling onto another. I have the power to create an Inheritance Crystal. You are the inheritor of my Master. Will you find an heir to my calling?"

  Right now, I cannot feel the hold the Shackle of the Domination have on me, but I will never forget what it felt like to have them descend on me. Even so, I cannot imagine what it must have felt like, for something that was as powerful as Daray was when he was alive, to be chained by them.

  "I will."

  Clang. Clatter.

  A blood red war scythe with a broken shaft appears out of thin air and falls to the floor. Just the sight of its blade makes me shiver. That weapon is steeped in blood and death.

  "That is my Master's weapon. After I create my Inheritance Crystal, put an end to my unlife. It is time to rest for eternity."

  A whirlpool of black and red energy form in the air in front of the Remnant of Daray. As it spins faster and faster, the light of the power grows thicker and richer, and the Remnant of Daray becomes more tenuous.

  After about twenty minutes, the whirlpool condenses into a blood and charcoal colored crystal, with an octahedral shape. The swirl pattern on the surface of the crystal looks the same as the whirlpool of energy it was coalesced from.

  For a moment, silence fills the chamber, and then, the Shackles of the Domination descend on the crystal. Their number is nowhere that which descended on Crom Cruach's Aspect Crystals, and the interaction is far less violent. Space does not tear, but in the end, the essence of the Remnant of Daray is locked into the form of a Class.

  The Remnant of Daray looks at the war scythe on the floor. "I failed my Master. After he was murdered, I could not finish the destruction of the Fomhoraigh.

  "There were eleven other followers of my Master. They all fell in battle before me, but I do not know where they were buried. I did not care. You should seek out them out and acquire the essence of their callings. They should have inheritors, as well.

  "Put an end to me."

  I do not have the heart to say anything. I cannot even manage a 'Thank you' or a 'Goodbye'. All that I can do is attack.

  As I slowly beat him to death, the Remnant of Daray does not resist. He silently suffers under my string of attacks that are too pathetically weak to kill him outright. This is not a battle. It is not even like killing the Remnant of the Tomb Lord. This is no different from torturing someone, who gave you a gift.

  "AAAAARRRRR!"

  The Remnant of Daray suffers in silence. I am the one that screams.

  For the first time in my life, I am disgusted with myself. For the first time in my life, I hate myself. To preserve myself, no, to preserve my fucking character sheathe, I am torturing someone, who has done nothing but help me. The Remnant of Daray has given me his legacy, and I am torturing him to death at the demand of the QCP.

  Primacy Online is just a game. Yeah, right. Games do not make you feel like a traitorous piece of shit.

  Ding!

  You have completed: Destroy the Remnant of Daray .

  Do you wish to accept your reward, now? (Yes/No)

  "Yes."

  Destroy the Remn ant of Daray.

  No Rewards.

  The Remnant of Daray is dead. The 'reward' from the QCP is nothing but a mocking insult. I feel like a piece of shit.

  Quest: Destroy the Followers of Crom Cruach has been offered.

  Unique Chain Quest: Cannot be refused.

  Destroy the Followers of Crom Cruach (Unique) (Storyline Quest: 4 of ??) (Difficulty: ??)

  » Put an end to the followers of the dead God Crom Cruach (1/12)

  » Failure: Permanent reduction of all Attributes by 75%

  Is this another no reward quest? Can I just ignore it? At least, for now, there is no timer on it, but that does not mean that the QCP cannot add one later.

  "Did you just get that quest?"

  Raven Goddess gives me a confused look. "No."

  Fuck. I am going to destroy the QCP.

  Carrying a Noob

  Dead Islands, Toraigh

  First Month 13, 10 RC

  Listlessly, I pick up the broken war scythe.

  Bloody Reaping (Broken)

  » Broken War Scythe

  » 50-50 Slashing Damage

  » This was once the weapon of a God. It has been broken.

  With a snort, I store Bloody Reaping in my inventory and dig through the rest of the Remnant of Daray's loot. If I am a going to be a piece of shit, I might as well go all the way. There might be other things in here that will be useful.

  Watching me in silence, Raven Goddess does not interfere, but the confusion does not leave her face.

  I toss a couple books with blacksmithing plans for gear to Raven Goddess.

  "I am telling you, you need to become a blacksmith." Raven Goddess displays a sardonic smile, but her heart is just not in it.

  I toss her another half-dozen books with plans for jewelers and leatherworkers, but this time, Raven Goddess does not make any comments.

  "Let's log out."

  Earth: In Flight over the Atlantic Ocean

  May 15, 1337 AA

  Opening the capsule lid, Patrick Armagh sat up and frowned. With stiff-fingered strikes, he probed his chest and shoulders.

  "Crom? Is something wrong?" With narrowed eyes, Morgan Danan observed Patrick's actions.

  Patrick sighed. "I've lost a significant amount of feeling in my chest and shoulders."

  As a stricken look appeared on her features, Morgan sucked in a sharp breath of air. "No. It cannot be happening so quickly."

  With a confused look in his eyes, Patrick turned his attention in Morgan's direction. "What are you talking about?"

  Morgan sighed. "Come into the main cabin. This involves matters that all of you should be made aware of."

  Creak.

  In the main cabin, Patrick approached a chair in one corner, and after looking at it askance, he gingerly sat down. Shifting his weight, he looked at the others, who were watching him, and his thick lips parted in what could be called a gr
in. "Good chair."

  Vincent Torino was not quite being able to keep the consternation off his face. "What makes you say that?"

  Attempting to display an innocent appearance, Patrick opened his eyes wider. "It didn't break under my fat ass."

  "I see." Vincent started to shake his head, but stopping himself, he leaned back into the couch he was sitting on.

  Glancing at her husband, Laura Torino hid a rare smile behind her hand.

  "Fat, ugly hog." Sitting in another corner of the cabin, Antonio Torino kept his voice low, but it was still audible over the low rumble of the scramjet's engine.

  As anger and burgeoning hatred flared in her eyes, Morgan looked in Antonio's direction.

  Patrick laughed. "Vinny, do you remember when I sat on the scrawny, lisping bitch from Golden Gate City and broke both his legs."

  Vincent's eyes narrowed for a second. "You mean the blonde with the long hair that was about Antonio's size and build? Yes, I remember he screamed like a damned soul, when you shifted your weight."

  Antonio glared hatefully at Patrick.

  Vincent looked at his son. "Antonio, it is not wise to anger a man that could kill everyone in a room without breaking a sweat and makes his living beating people half to death, to say nothing of a woman with the might of an entire city-state at her beck and call. Once I go into cryogenic suspension, you will no longer have me to protect you. I made a mistake allowing you to use the threat of myself and my men to intimidate your peers and teachers. You have developed a weak and warped personality. You need to understand how this world works and act accordingly."

  After glaring sullenly at everyone for a few moments, Antonio turned his attention back to his pocket assistant.

  While not appearing in the least mollified, Morgan hid her anger and turned her attention toward Vincent and Laura. "I need to impart some information to you all. This is nothing that should not be available to the world at large, but the Church has been suppressing it for centuries. Every time, someone realizes the truth and tries to disseminate it, the Church will scrub the information from the quantum network and murder the offender."

  Seeing she had everyone's rapt attention, Morgan paused for fifteen seconds and let her statement sink in. "You all should be more or less aware of what Skill Expression is, but you may not understand what it means to exceed one hundred percent. The Quantum Control Program uses a theoretical base of the maximum level of effectiveness that a normal person can achieve with a Skill without using any form of magic to enhance their competencies. When you exceed the one hundred percent mark, it means that you are breaking beyond the limits of a normal human being. Most people can never achieve this level.

  "There is another hidden form of expression that the Quantum Control Program labels as Ability expression, and as the name states, it is related to the level of effectiveness a user can get from an Ability. As with Skill Expression, there is a theatrical one hundred percent mark. That mark can be exceeded, but when you do, it changes the structure of your mind, your consciousness. If the structure of your consciousness changes, when you download it back to your body, you will damage the brain and nervous system. When the change to the consciousness causes significant damage that results in nervous system degeneration, that is called Thompson's Syndrome."

  Even with the layers of fat making his head look like an emotionless volleyball, Patrick's confusion was easy to read in his expression. "Are you saying that I have Thompson's because of this Ability expression?"

  Morgan looked straight into his eyes. "Yes. Now that you have three Aspect Classes, it will probably accelerate your Thompson's Syndrome's progression."

  "So, that means that my level of using Abilities is superior to most people?"

  Morgan smiled sadly. "Let me ask you, how high do you think my Skill Expression is?"

  Patrick shook his head. "I'm not sure, at least two hundred percent."

  "I hover between one hundred ninety-five and two hundred fifteen percent Skill Expression."

  "You're serious?" Vincent's eyes were open so wide, they had turned his forehead into a mass of wrinkles.

  Next, to Vincent, Laura closed her mouth with an audible click of her teeth, before speaking. "If you have that level of Skill Expression, you would be unbeatable."

  Morgan glanced at the pair on the other couch. "Skills do not use magic. They are limited. Abilities are created through magic. They have no real limit. I was beaten once, by a man whose Ability expression took his Abilities to a level that mortals should not reach. When he wielded his spear, he did not use Skills, he used Abilities. Every attack was an Ability, an Ability that was a reflection of his very soul. I never saw a more beautiful combat style in my life."

  "You didn't throw our fight?"

  Morgan gaped at Patrick for more than thirty seconds. "Is that what you believed? That I deliberately lost to you?"

  Patrick shrugged. "I don't know exactly what kind of Caster you were, but you were not just a Fighter. You never used magic, and my Skill Expression was only in the nineties. I could see that you were better than me."

  Morgan laughed. "From start to finish, your Abilities suppressed me. I never had the chance to bring my magic into play."

  "Oh." Patrick had a dumbfounded look in his eyes.

  Other than constant background noise of the engine, there was a long period of silence in the cabin.

  "Since I was banned, I've been trying to replicate my spear fighting techniques, but I can't. It looks the same, but on Earth, it feels empty when I use a staff or a spear. If my techniques were Abilities, I suppose that would explain why."

  "Your Skill Expression has made amazing progress, but if you could return to your old fighting style…recreate it…" With an air of wistfulness, Morgan's sad smile returned.

  Vincent cleared his throat. "You said the Church suppressed information. I assume you were talking about Ability expression. Why would they do it?"

  Morgan shakes her head. "I do not know. The Church has many cryogenic immortals that have exceptional levels of Skill Expression, but they have very few with strong Ability expression. I have never been able to determine the cause. Do they just not attract those with the capability to reach high levels of Ability expression, or do they drive them away?"

  Vincent frowned. "Archbishop Green is one of those high Skill Expression users. He has to be in the one fifties."

  With a thoughtful expression, Laura stared into space. "If the Church did not suppress this information, the activists opposed to the Arena Leagues using fluffers would gain ground."

  Morgan stared at Patrick. "Thompson's Syndrome always afflicts those that are too young when they achieve high Ability expression. That is why the children that raise Arena League sheathes are so often the victims. They all have extremely high potential, but Thompson's Syndrome puts an end to their careers and their lives. Maybe, the Church wants that, but I do not know why they would."

  Vincent cleared his throat. "Have you ever read the Resurrection Bible, I mean really read it?"

  Morgan nodded. "Many times."

  "Do you know what the parts about the evolution of humanity according to God's plan are all about?"

  Morgan shook her head. "No. Do you?"

  Vincent revealed an uncharacteristic frown. "Not completely, but I used to be close with a few Resurrectionists. They believe that after the 'Apocalypse', which is what they call World War III, God is, now, in control of the Earth and has a plan to raise humanity to new heights and take all the faithful away from this 'Poisoned Earth'. They were more than just a little fanatical in their beliefs, and they were not exactly Church zealots. I do not think that is a belief that originated with the common believers. The Church hierarchy has to be pushing it. It is almost like they brainwash the worshipers.

  Morgan frowned. "I am well aware of that belief, but I think it is a symptom and not the cause of the Church's lack of high Ability expression users."

  "People with high Ability expression might not
be susceptible to whatever the Church is doing to their rabid sheep. Maybe, if the people with high potential for Ability expression are allowed to survive, the Church thinks it could be a threat."

  Morgan's frown deepened. "I do not think that is right. I think the threat the Church fears is related to Primacy Online . Among the users that were perma-banned for cheating, all the ones with a chance of breaking through to Rank 7 had very high Ability expression."

  With an unhappy look in his eyes, Patrick practically glared at Morgan. "This speculation is all well and good, but I never had any melee Abilities on my character sheet for my normal spear techniques. The only things were things like Cleave , Whirlwind , Power Thrust , Power Cleave , etc., and I didn't use them all that often."

  Morgan gave Patrick a half smirk. "They would have been hidden Abilities. That is the type of Ability that you have to synthesize for yourself, and the Quantum Control Program does not display them openly."

  Patrick snorted. "Whatever the case may be, it doesn't really matter. I have bigger problems to deal with. The QCP is fucking with me. It gave me a quest to destroy the twelve followers of Crom Cruach or take a seventy-five percent hit to all my abilities."

  Morgan's expression turned angry. "The Quantum Control Program has never been entirely under the Church's control, but now, it, clearly, has the goal of being Tathlum's one and only God. It probably sees you as a useful tool to further its goal."

  "What's the point of it? Crom Cruach was God, but the followers were not. I don't see the purpose in destroying them."

  A pensive look filled Morgan's eyes. "It probably comes down to control. The essences of the followers of Crom Cruach probably do not exist as Classes, which means they are beyond the control of the Shackles of the Domination. If you destroy the followers, their essences can be formed into Inheritance Class crystals and controlled by the Shackles of the Domination."

  "I'm going to destroy the fucking thing. Forget about controlling the QCP, I'm going to eliminate it, once and for all."

  For a second, Morgan displayed an unhappy expression, before hiding it. "Just taking control over the Quantum Control Program will be difficult. Destroying it may prove impossible."