The chanism used for teleportation was exactly the sa as the one at the top of the tower—the one that had brought him here. As Zach stepped on it and the engine-like noise began to ramp up, all he could think about was his friends and his hope that they were still alive.
He had so many emotions running through him: excitent, fear, and also a bit of guilt. He had spent almost an entire year knee-deep in political guild work. Day after day, he'd sat behind a desk and did everything he could to make the world a better place. For this reason, he both regretted and didn't regret his decision. There were so many things that would not have gotten done if he had not been there to do them. He needed to do the things he'd done. People relied on him: the lives and well-being of entire families.
And yet, there had always been this nagging sensation deep within his chest. As the months had gone by, he had gone from concerned to worried sick. His friends—where were they? What were they doing? Why had they never co back? Now, having completed his orientation, he found himself putting just the tiniest bit more hope into the possibility that they were still alive.
The NPC said that returning is extrely difficult, Zach thought, recalling everything he'd just learned. Maybe they aren't dead. Maybe they're just trapped. And I'm about to be trapped, too.
The thought of ending up stuck here forever worried him. But it didn't worry him as much as it probably should have. This was because he knew…because sohow, he just knew that if he really did get stranded here for life, it was only a matter of ti before Kalana eventually showed up and got herself stranded here, too. There was just no way that he'd end up going the rest of his life without her. If he was gone for more than a year, she would appear. He was certain of it. And while he didn't want that, he didn't not want that, either, selfish as it may be. But seriously, that was a better problem to worry about later. For now, he kept his thoughts on the question of whether or not his friends were alive. Right now, he was the closest he'd ever been to finding out.
He was eager. He was ready.
The engine-like sound ramped up. It beca louder, and louder, and louder, and then…then it all just sort of faded away as a bright, perfectly white screen of light surrounded him. For a brief instant, he felt weightless, as though he were floating. An instant later, that feeling vanished, the world returned, and now, he found himself standing on an identical pedestal with a ramp ahead of him and a sign above that said: Orbital Jumping Platform (OJP) --> pick any exit.
Zach looked around. Assuming this was a space station, it was a great deal smaller than the last one had been: a fraction of the size, in fact. The entire station consisted of a rounded, central, "nerve-like" room with eight tunnel-like passageways that ended in a sealed, pressurized chamber.
Stepping onto the ramp, he beca startled as, from seemingly out of nowhere, a chilly white mist surrounded his body, briefly obscuring his vision. But it faded within a second or two—only to be replaced by an intense, bright-orange fla that caused him to jump as it surrounded him from head to toe. But then that, too, faded, and it did so without leaving behind so much as a single puff of smoke. It sort of reminded Zach of how things were whenever soone buffed him.
Wait…maybe it is a buff!
He checked.
Na
Shielded Descent
Effect
Increases user's resistance to heat and cold by 90%. Lung capacity 2000%
Duration
This buff expires when the user cos within close proximity of sand.
Even as Zach was reading the description, a wave of panic hit him, as he suddenly realized it felt like there was no oxygen in his lungs: like he was dying of suffocation. With a choking gasp, he inhaled—and then he continued to inhale. And then he continued to continue to inhale. Terror caused his pulse rate to increase. And it was only after he took a full breath that he was able to calm himself down.
That's the longest breath I've ever taken.
So, that was what "lung capacity 2000%" ant. Sheesh, he really didn't like it. It felt weird. It was unusual. His body was just not accustod to breathing this way. Exhaling now took him almost twenty seconds. It felt so, so strange.
I definitely don't want to stay here too long.
Zach looked around. There were no NPCs here: none. But there was one large viewing port, and through it, he now had a vastly different view of Albion-4 than the one he'd had at the previous station.
Whoah…
The NPC had said that this station would be closer to the planet, but that was understating it. In fact, if he hadn't been explicitly told he was in outer space, he could've easily been convinced he was simply just way up in the sky, as all he could see when he looked to his left and to his right was Albion-4 and more Albion-4. He was even close enough that he could now sort of tell that those "bumps" had in fact been various skyscrapers or other tall buildings. What he couldn't see was any "space." At least not from this viewport. He could also only very faintly make out the curvature of the planet, which ant he was now close enough that the world appeared to be geotrically flat, an illusion created due to the sheer size of the planet and his proximity to it.
Glancing slightly upward, Zach realized that there was a small placard above the viewport that explained what he was seeing in better detail.
Enjoying the view, adventurers? You are currently in low orbit around the planet's exosphere. The temperature outside is roughly -250 degrees. This will change with descent. Rember: your new map will always show you the ti of day and the temperature. Once you touch down, you should expect very hot days and very cold nights.
Zach nodded, then spent almost a minute exhaling and inhaling. Gods, this was creepy. Turning himself around, he picked one of the eight tunnels at random and began to walk through it. It was so, so quiet in here: almost perfectly so. It was to the extent that the clinking of his plate armor and the sound of his boots on the aluminum flooring sounded painfully loud.
With each step, a bubbling, thrilling, acidic-like sensation shimred through his chest and down into his belly. It was a sensation he hadn't felt since the first ti that he'd stepped foot into Yorna's, and also, briefly, when he'd landed on the sky island. But now, he was feeling it with the intensity of a year ago: that raw, nervous excitent of adventure. It was a feeling he could easily see a person chasing. It was a reaffirmation of life itself. It reminded Zach that he didn't rely "exist."
He was alive.
At the end of the tunnel was the pressurized door, which was made of tal and had a small window atop. It slid all the way upwards and opened on its own, and then Zach stepped inside. Afterwards, it sealed shut and locked with a click. Sohow, Zach just knew that, even if he wanted to go back for so unknowable reason, there would be no going through that door again. He had taken yet another irreversible step towards the planet. And knowing this only increased the nervous excitent flowing through him.
"Preparing terminal for exit," said a very-robotic-sounding female voice.
At first, Zach wasn't sure what that ant or what was happening, but it caused a steam-like sound—like gas moving through vents. And as the station did whatever it was doing, a screen popped up before his eyes all on its own. It seed to be a ssage of so kind: a warning.
From here on out, adventurers, you are all on your own. If you are fortunate enough to reach the city, rember what you have learned: when inside the city, you must fear the night. During the night, the city is surrounded by a barrier, and nothing can leave or enter. It is during this ti that the danger begins. Plan your arrival accordingly. For new arrivals, we strongly recomnd you do not attempt to enter after 12:00 noon. We especially recomnd you do not arrive in the evening. Good luck, adventurers. Fight for the future.
And take one last full breath by the ti you finish reading this. You'll need to hold your breath for roughly 10 minutes.
- Gloral Veynra, Great One, Creative Director/System Architect
The sound of gases moving through pipes ca to an end, and then, at last, a door opposite him slid open just as Zach had inhaled as much air as his lungs could hold: which was quite a lot. This one led to…to nothing.
It was the exit.
Now, Zach felt almost overwheld by the sheer thrill of it all. It was almost too much for him to bear. But it was also enjoyable in a sense. Even as his knees trembled, his heart pounded, and his fingers twitched, he felt such a burst of energy, one almost indescribable, that made him just as giddy as it did fearful.
Stepping forward, he looked out of what he assud to be an airlock. He wanted to savor the mont—to pump himself up for the jump. But he knew that he would only be putting himself at risk, as they'd likely only given him as much oxygen as absolutely required to survive. There was nothing to do now but jump. Nowhere to go but down.
Here goes nothing.
Rather than step, Zach ran forward and jumped. And now, as he exited the airlock and could turn his head in any direction, he saw that he was indeed in space—sort of. He couldn't see any stars, but the "sky" above him was pitch black, and a field of blue awaited below. It was a strange, bewildering feeling. He also felt chilly, but not as cold as he likely would have without the buff. He wondered if his constitution would be high enough to protect him from a fall from space even without it.
Probably, he thought, but oxygen would be a much bigger problem.
Zach floated forward for longer than he would have had he jumped out of an airplane—but then, finally, he began to fall. And it started a bit more slowly than he was expecting. It was gentle, almost. He was sort of floating. But little by little, he began to pick up speed. He smiled. He even relaxed a little.
But then he began to accelerate.
Whoah!
Holding his breath, he began to fall faster and faster. And yet, there was no feeling of wind that he typically experienced on his nurous other freefalls. There was only a sense of plunging downwards into a world far, far beneath him—but a world that approached increasingly faster as he started to at last pick up so real speed.
A lot of it.
Zach had jumped out of planes and helicopters, and once, his ability, Doomsday Slash, had sent him into an accidental freefall from the sky. He'd also launched himself into the clouds back on Kalana's island when he still had that blasting ring. So, he was kind of used to falling at full speed from a high altitude. But this. No, this was way, way different. It was faster. So much Gods-be-damned faster.
With such a thin atmosphere, his terminal velocity was significantly higher, and as a result, the sense of thrill—but also fright—shot up as his speed ripped beyond anything he had ever before experienced, and from the strange cone forming around his body, he assud he was now breaking the sound barrier; but even still his speed ramped up.
And he was loving it.
Oh my Gods! Oh my Gods this is so aweso!
Despite the ungodly speed, he continued to go even faster and faster. Yet he savored every second of this windless plunge as one minute beca two, and two minutes beca three. By the fourth minute, he had reached a level of speed so incredible he wasn't even sure how to quantify it. Yet, through it all, he kept his head moving around and his eyes wide open. He took in every sight his eyes could find. Up above, the black turned to a very, very dark blue, but now even that was beginning to lighten in shade.
Then things began to change.
At just beyond the four-minute mark, he at last felt sothing akin to wind. But there was sothing else, too: a weight, or…no, not quite a weight. It was a force of so kind, like sothing pushing back on him. It was as though sothing beneath him was moving upwards even as he was moving downwards. And with this force, he began to slow.
And smoke.
An actual smoke began to form around his body. At the sa ti, he heard a slight whine: a hissing. It was coming from his armor and his helm. "Heeeeeeee." It was so slight that, initially, he wasn't sure what he was hearing or where it was coming from. But as it gradually began to grow in volu, he was sure that it ca from the plate.
"Heeeeeeeeee!"
The level of wind began to increase. Zach could now feel it blasting into his forehead. The sky began to lighten, too. And through it all, he felt himself begin to slow. But it wasn't a gentle slowing. It was like that of two forces colliding. Sothing was pushing back on him violently. And this "sothing" was creating so much heat that the smoke around him turned into fla—pure, utter fla that encased him inside of it like a burning teorite.
More and more his speed began to drop, and in tandem, the wind picked up, the flas expanded, and the whine of his armor beca a deafeningly loud shriek.
"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Zach, sowhat frightened but still thrilled, could no longer see any trace of the city. All he saw beneath him was a seemingly endless, eternal stretch of sandy dunes that went on and on forever. And it was approaching: fast.
Things began to change once more. The shrieking cry of his armor subsided, the flas ca to an end, but the wind actually picked up trendously, whipping into him furiously as he descended to what felt like "airplane" altitude. And now, he at last leveled off at what he typically considered to be "maximum speed," though it felt so much slower now in comparison to how fast he'd just been falling.
A few plus of smoke plunged down along with him, but eventually even those went away as Zach could at last spread his arms wide and enjoy the sensation of the wind pushing back on them. And having fallen from enough high places, he was sure he was now sowhere he could breathe.
Exhaling the oxygen-tank-like quantity of air in his lungs, he drew a fresh breath, which took significantly longer due to his increased capacity; this, as he approached so closely now that each individual dune appeared large enough to take up a quarter of his vision. This was it. He was here. He'd made it. He'd actually made it!
At the last possible mont, he turned his body right-side up, and for the first ti, he landed on sand without plunging straight through it. Whether it was due to his vastly increased dexterity or simply an unintentionally acquired skill from his nurous falls, he was able to touch down on both feet in a standing position.
The mont he did so, the buff went away.
And then…
Then ca the scalding, ferocious heat.
"Oh, fuck!" he blurted out as a heat far worse than even the hottest day of a Galterran sumr wrapped around him and began making him sweat almost imdiately. He hadn't even been here for three seconds, and already, the temperature was baking him alive. Also, the sun—it felt so bright and scorching in a way it hadn't until just now. Had it been this bright when he'd been falling?
"Dear Gods above," he said, wiping his face. "It's an inferno down here. What in the absolute fuck." He glanced upwards at the sky. "Take back up! I changed my mind!"
He was joking, of course, but it really was that Gods-be-damned hot. The temperature here, it had to be sothing like—
Wait, I don't even need to guess.
Zach pulled up his map, and it filled the world in front of him. It was also a whole lot to take in, too. The map, from what he'd learned, could be zood out to a distance roughly equal to the continent of North Bastia, or zood in to a "street" level. Right now, he estimated that the view was on par with sothing a quarter of the size of the region of Whispery Woods. And it was all black. All except for a tiny, tiny dot where he was standing.
The map only becos revealed in places I visit, he recalled. It had been one of the only new and useful things he'd learned during his two-hour ti-wasting session in the Orcish academy of bullshit.
Zooming way in, he brought it to a level that showed a 50-mile radius with him in the center—nearly all of it still dark. But the one spot that was revealed showed him to be standing in a region called "The Slithering Dunes."
Currently, it was 8:14 AM on this planet, and the temperature was a stupidly hot…wait, what? Impossible. Absolutely-fucking impossible. This thing had to be busted. There was just no way. It couldn't be.
"There's no way it's only 82 degrees out here," he said. "If this is 82 degrees, then my entire life has been a lie."
Zach completely, totally distrusted the number. He didn't care what it said. Sure, he might've only been eighteen years old, but that was still old enough to know, for certain, that 82 degrees didn't feel like the inside of an oven. And yet, the map continued to insist it was "82C" outside.
Wait…wait a second.
Did that "C" have sothing to do with it? He was only really realizing it now. Did that denote or an sothing? ntally, he projected forward his glossary and searched for "C." Nothing happened. So he tried to search for 82C. Also nothing. Becoming frustrated, he tried searching for "wrong temperature reading" and "C after temperature." Yet still, there was absolutely nothing. Finally, he just tried searching for "temperature asurent," and finally, sothing ca up.
Glossary Entry: asurents
asurents are a thod that intelligent beings use to determine the size, quantity, or value of a specific object or property. In Galterra, the most common form of asurent is the "Imperial" system, a system preferred by the Great Ones who worked on the Galterra project. Due to creator preference, this is the system most Galterrans are likely familiar with. There are, however, other systems of asurent, such as the tric System. The user may switch freely between these in accordance with his or her own preference.
"Oh, good," Zach said. "Let's go with Imperial."
ntally, he commanded the map to switch, and just like that, it did. It vanished for a brief mont, and then it beca refocused, only now, what he'd believed to be a "50-mile" view turned out to only be a "30-mile" view, and what had claid to be an 82-degree temperature had now beco a much more believable 179.6-degree temperature.
As sweat poured down over his eyes, Zach opened his inventory and removed his helm, causing it to vanish off his head and appear in his box. Yes, he'd lose 10 armor, 10 dex, and 10 con, but at least Helm Sight was no longer a thing, and right now, he just couldn't. He just couldn't. In fact, you know what? Depending on how bad this got, he might even switch into the cloth mage armor. Sure, it wasn't even close to as good as his legendary plate set, but it was just so atrociously hot here.
I can't believe it can affect this much.
Zach could literally be hosed down by a flathrower and not even feel it, yet this heat was weighing down on him so heavily. He supposed it had to do with what and how constitution actually worked. Physically, it protected his skin from burning. Fire—aning natural, ordinary fire, and not the fire of a mage's spell—could no longer harm him. It wouldn't burn him. It wouldn't damage his skin. But if he were to run into a burning forest, take a seat right on the ground near the thickest flas, and then just hang out there for a while, he was pretty sure he'd die either from the fus or from the heat more generally, as his constitution did not appear to offer his organs and insides the sa level of overheating protection it did externally.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
But clearly, it at least offered so protection. And this, Zach could tell by the fact that he wasn't in any imdiate danger of dying and likely wouldn't be for a great deal of ti. And this was significant because, with a lower constitution, that probably wouldn't be the case.
For example, if a normal, average, everyday level-1 individual had been sent down to this planet, they would most likely die within ten to fifteen minutes of heat stroke. With a temp of around 180 degrees, they might only be able to remain standing for two to three minutes, and they'd die not long after. But Zach? He was fairly sure he could make it through this. It was just going to be very, very, very torturous.
I'm already thirsty.
The NPC had been right. It had said to drink water to the point of nausea. Zach had "sort of." But Zach stopped when it beca unpleasant to drink anymore. Now, he wished he would've gulped down just a little bit more, as he had been stripped of all his non-adventuring possessions and would be in real trouble.
Not necessarily, he thought.
Opening his inventory, and then opening box 1, what had previously been known as the Bank and Storage ability popped up in front of him. Glancing down at the box, which only he could see, he moved all of his stones, including even the light stones, into his QI. At the mont, he had 6 red, 4 yellow, and 6 purple—as well as 2 Light Stones. But it was the yellow in particular he now paid the most attention to.
In a place like this, dehydration was a virtual certainty. And so, at so point, Zach would obviously dehydrate to the point it beca an actual health issue. And when that happened, he was reasonably certain his body would "accept" a yellow stone. The stone would replenish his missing fluids, electrolytes, etc. Sure, it might not be as satisfying as gulping down a liter of ice-cold water, but it sure beat having his tongue turn to sandpaper and his skin beco drier than a mummy's ass.
Closing his inventory, he took another look at his map. At the mont, it said he was facing northwest. He zood out. Then he zood out so more. He groaned as he zood out even more. Then even more. And even more, more, more, more—there!
Amid all the darkness, there was a single word written in white lettering: city. He couldn't see it or get an idea of what it might look like, but the map at least labeled it as being there. Right now, it was the only other label on the entire map aside from "The Slithering Dunes," where he was currently located.
Now, Zach once again called upon the sole and only useful part of his ti studying in that classroom, and he used the knowledge he'd acquired by placing a waypoint. Imdiately, a tiny little blue circle appeared way, way, way in the distance, and beneath this circle was a number that made him sweat even more profusely.
4,962m
"Gods, please don't let that 'm' an miles! Gods, no!"
This was outrageous. No, this was beyond outrageous. What in the na of all that was decent and good could possibly make the Great Ones decide that this was where adventurers should be dropped off? In a steaming, burning, sand-ridden hell nearly five-fucking-thousand miles away from where they were supposed to go. Stranded without water or shelter. Under a sun so hot that he might as well be standing right on it—because really, how much worse could it possibly get?
I'm too good of a friend, he thought with a half-serious whimper. To be coming here and doing this shit for them. I want to go back to my desk job. Maybe Vim was right. Uhhh! 5-thousand miles!
That was so Gods-be-damned far that it was like…it was almost like cody in a way. Even if he pushed his Kralzek's Beast to the max—which he could thankfully do, as it wasn't alive and didn't get tired—he was looking at a fifty- to sixty-hour ride, minimum. It would probably be more because of all this damn sand that would slow them down. Gods, there was so much of it everywhere. These dunes—they were like entire hills made of sands. And every ti the wind blew, it would whip him in the face and get him in his eyes.
This just sucked so much. Thank the Gods he had his mount.
Zach activated Summon Active War-Mount. And then he cried a little on the inside.
MOUNT SUMMON FAILURE! Required license "Ground Mounts: basic" not found!
A tiny groan of desperation escaped him, one that bordered on being a whimper as he searched "mount license" in the glossary.
Glossary Entry: Mount License
Much like with cars, airplanes, and helicopters, riding a ground or flying mount on Albion-4 requires you to purchase a one-ti license for 9,221 Hero Emblems from Receptionist Zeetra Kolim on the eighth floor of the Victory Building in the Hero District.
"Hero emblems?" he asked, aghast. He rubbed his sweaty forehead. He was starting to feel so overwheld.
You've been through worse situations than this, Zach, he told himself. Don't get lazy. This is just one more day in the life of Zachys Calador. After everything you've been through, what's a 5k-mile hike through a desert?
He was right. There was no reason to be as upset as he was. Though, in fairness, it was mostly the extre heat making him feel sluggish and tired despite not having even moved yet since landing. No. He was strong. He'd co here solo. He wasn't about to let so desert stand between him and his—
"SSSSSSSSSSSS!"
Him and his—
"SSSSSSSSSSSS!"
Him and his—
"SSSSSSSSSSSS!"
Him and his…huh?
Zach looked down. A moderately sized, five-foot-long, green-and-purple rattlesnake-looking thing was slithering over to him, its forked tongue sticking out of its mouth. It was coming directly towards him, but slowly. Did he have aggro or sothing?
HP
1,000,000/1,000,000
Na
Slither Slicker
Level
79
Level-79 but not elite. Okay. Not too bad. Though it was way too hot out here to be wasting his stamina on stupid little snakes. Zach, annoyed, slowly drew his Primordial Void Blade. And as the weapon was sliding out of its scabbard, this "Slither Slicker" thing went "BLEEHH" and so kind of pellet popped out of its mouth, rolled about four tis along the sand, and then ca to a stop between Zach's legs.
And then it exploded, and Zach's arms, legs, feet, hands, and head all went in separate directions as his torso flopped around a few tis on the sand.
****
"So, who do you think wins?" Mangil asked as he and eleven others crowded around the viewing screen. The entire village had co to watch. This was the most important ga of the season, too. Especially since the new quarterback that the Skyblazers brought in from District 3 had already proven himself worth every last Courage Token they'd paid to get him on the team.
"Skyblazers always lose in the end," his sister, Manomuna, said. She flashed him one of her cute, know-it-all grins, her blonde hair falling over her face.
"Not always," he said.
"Basically always."
"They won the championship not all that long ago."
"Bro, that was, like, eight hundred years ago."
"Seven-fifty."
"Yah, whatever. Just admit your favorite team is trash and—"
Her words cut off abruptly as everyone started cheering, himself included. Mangil got up off his couch and roared as, at the last possible mont, the QB managed to avoid a sack following a breakthrough of the Grease Goblins' defense. The energy was incredible. The entire stadium went absolutely crazy as the football left his grip just as he was tackled. And…could it be? Could it be? It looked like Break Lightning, the star receiver on the Skyblazers, was actually about to make an impossible catch.
Mangil was now on his tiptoes. The energy was explosive. He was going to get it. Gods, he was actually going to—
Abruptly, the screen cut off, and the door to his family's cottage slamd open. Village Elder Golobara burst inside, panting as though out of breath. "Get dressed!" he scread. "A bio's coming. A bio's coming!"
Mangil felt a rush of terror shoot right through him. "No, don't even say that."
"Mangil! Do not question !" Village Elder Golobara practically shrieked.
Mangil looked towards his father, who pursed his lips as though confused. "Are you sure?"
"Yes I'm sure."
"B-but that…that's surely not going to affect us."
"It is this ti."
"Impossible. Why here?"
"WE DO NOT HAVE TI FOR QUESTIONS. WE HAVE WORK."
Mangil panicked. It was finally happening. After all these years, it was finally happening. And to them. Nobody wanted this. Who would? Who would actually want this? He looked to his sister, and she held his hand.
"Maybe it'll be soone kind."
"I'm afraid to die," he said. "But I'm more afraid of you having to experience a death. What if he picks…what if he picks choice B? And he takes one of us?"
"We'll co back even if we die."
"But I don't want you to feel that hurt. You, mom, or dad."
"It'll be okay," she whispered.
The village elder's tone beca hysterical. "What are you waiting for? Hurry! Hurry you Gods-be-damned fools! Before we're all punished!"
"Why is this happening to us?" Mangil asked. "Why now?"
"You think I know? Random chance, circumstance, whatever." Village Elder Golobara scowled. "Move your asses!"
Mangil nodded and got up. He made it all of two steps before Village Elder Golobara thrust his palm forcibly into Mangil's chest, hard enough to cause pain and bring him to an abrupt halt. He even dealt 522 damage and caused Mangil's father to take a defensive step in his direction, though Mother held out her arm and stopped him from getting involved: wisely.
Mangil knew that Village Elder Golobara would deeply regret his actions later. Golobara really was a kind man, and everything he now did, he did simply because he truly believed he was protecting them. Still, it was difficult to endure this side of him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he scread.
"I'm getting into position," Mangil said, confused.
"W-w-wearing that? Jeans and a t-shirt? Are you an idiot? You're supposed to be a primitive village dweller, not so beer-drinking, sports-watching bum! Get in your costu!"
"It's so deaning."
"Mangil!" he scread. "Now! We have five minutes. Maybe even less! And get rid of that accursed screen! We're in the desert, not the city. We have no technology here." He grumbled. "And hide your mother's hairdryer and your father's video ga toy."
"It's called a Nintendo Sw—"
"Do I look like I care?" the elder shrieked. "Hide it now! What if he explores in here?"
"Wait, he's allowed to just walk into our ho?"
"Duh! He can do whatever he wants."
"Did you say he?" his sister said, a wicked grin on her lips that made him roll his eyes.
The village elder looked apoplectic, causing everyone else to scatter. Everyone but his imdiate family left their cottage and rushed to change into more appropriate costus. As for Mangil, he ran inside his bedroom, reached into his closet, and pulled out his. In the thousands upon thousands of years that had passed since he'd spawned here with his family, he'd never once worn it. It was an extrely uncomfortable outfit made of plant fibers and string. It was tight, unsightly, and made his whole body itch. As he changed, his missing 522 HP regenerated, and then he hurried outside with his sister and his mother.
Compared to the glorious sights of the city, their tiny little village was nothing special. It consisted of four cottages located around a circular pavilion with a paved ground covered by red-and-brown bricks. There were a few trees here and there, as well as a drinking pool around eight feet in length and five in width, which ran about three feet deep. Outside of that, all they really had were a few stables with NPC farm animals that could not be eaten and did not do anything but exist. For this reason, Mangil often spent a lot of ti visiting his friends in the city when he wasn't busy doing his mandatory weekly maintenance on the system nodes.
Now, he wondered if he might never be permitted to go there ever again.
I can't believe this day has finally co, he thought as his insignificance and lack of worth finally dawned on him. All these years, and it was only right now, and this very mont, that he realized he truly was nothing more than an object as he was rushed to get in position.
"Facial freeze in five seconds," Village Elder Golobara said. "Five…four…three…two…and one!"
Mangil activated his facial freeze, which imdiately put up a barrier between his emotions and the smile on his face. Internally, however, he was the most terrified he'd been in all of his existence as a massive, gigantic splash caused the water in the drinking pool to shoot up almost ten feet in height, confirming that, yes, it really was them who had been hit with this. Not those bastards in Anchor Plaza. But them. How unfortunate.
"Fuuuck!" a male voice shouted as a figure erged from within the pool, drenched, soaking wet, and completely, totally naked as the day he was born. He was young: perhaps eighteen. Though Mangil did not know if he was eighteen years of age or if he was simply eighteen-locked like Mangil was. Mangil didn't even know if the beliefs about "age years" were even true. Everyone was always arguing about that, but one side had clearly erged victorious in the debate.
During these past thousand years, the number of those in the city who believed that bios actually aged rather than have their age assigned to them had grown significantly. Mangil found that hard to believe, though it was a hotly debated topic among Albion-4 scientists. Yet in recent tis, a consensus had ford. The science geeks now believed that bios not only aged, but that they would beco so old they eventually permanently de-spawned. That was just sothing Mangil could not wrap his mind around. It had caused him to lie awake at night and think.
Gods, he missed those days.
Because in even more recent tis, all of society and everything Mangil had ever known had co crashing down around him, beginning eight months ago when the first batch of bios arrived from the sky on Albion-4. Thankfully, sothing had happened to them—he didn't know what—after about four or five grueling, torturous months, and then, finally, they'd been allowed to revert back to their own lives.
But here it was, happening again. And everyone knew the rules. Once bios were here, they had to work. Always. Forever. Without pause or break. Or else the pain switch went on.
What if this one is just as bad as the Dark Demon?
The Dark Demon was perhaps the worst calamity ever to befall Albion-4. The Dark Demon had arrived with the other bios, though it took upon itself a different form. During the months that the bios were active, every single day had been one of pure terror, but mostly for those who lived in the Grand Central district—also known as District 0, and all because of the Dark Demon.
Supposedly, most of the bios weren't too bad. There had been a little more than a hundred of them, and for the most part, they only hurt bosses and other non-thinkers. They didn't steal, rape, or torture any thinkers. They spent most of their ti dealing with bosses and quests and non-thinkers, which they had called "mobs." You know, those empty-headed non-bios that numbered in the tens of billions and kind of just "existed" without thought or reason?
Nobody cared when those were hurt. They didn't even feel pain. And many of them were even aggressive and would attack thinkers if thinkers ca too close. Personally, Mangil hated the NTs. Not that they cared that he hated them, because non-thinkers didn't know anything or feel anything or care about anything. They were just sort of "there." The streets of Albion-4 were teeming with them, too. Hell, everywhere on this planet was teeming with them. All the buildings and locations in "red" areas and "red" territory were inhabited by an endless, uncountable number of non-thinkers. There were so many of them that they outnumbered the thinkers ten thousand to one, if not even more than that.
Whereas about fifty million thinkers lived on Albion-4, the NTs numbered in the tens if not hundreds of billions. And thankfully, for the most part, the bios spent their ti interacting with them. And sure, the total loss of autonomy was awful, but that was still better than being terrorized.
But then…
Then ca the rise of the Dark Demon. The worst thing that had ever happened to this planet.
There had been reports of one bio that was unlike the others: reports of a demonic entity from another dinsion—likely hell—that called itself "Fluffles." This creature, it had done unspeakable things, seemingly at random. Things that had probably caused millions of thinkers to suffer nightmares, Mangil included. It had called down sothing called "lightning" from the sky, which was not supposed to happen on Albion-4. It destroyed so many hos, stealing tuna and chicken, and causing nurous thinkers to die of hunger. Yes, they respawned, but it was a painful, traumatic death.
The other bios allowed it to do this, of course. Mangil often wondered if the bios would have behaved differently had they known that there was a difference between the thinkers and the NTs. During "work ti," such a fact was ant to be kept hidden. It was forbidden for a thinker to reveal that he or she was a thinker.
But even if they had known—would they have cared? Mangil doubted it.
At any rate, one day, all the bios had just sort of…well, Mangil didn't really know what happened. Nobody did. Nobody had seen them die, but then again, they had spent most of their ti in "red" areas, so no one would have seen them die even if they had. Either way, the result was the sa—they just kind of stopped appearing. At the sa ti, the active status went from LIVE back to INACTIVE, as it had been for so many thousands of years, and life was allowed to continue on as it always had.
Until today.
Until right now.
Please let this one die or vanish like the others. I can't go through this again!
The young-looking man erged from the pool, his body naked, and Mangil got one look at his face.
And he wanted to tremble. He had to strain to maintain his facial and body lock, as he feared the God-imposed consequences of letting it slip far more than he feared this young man, this…this kid. But with just one look at his face, Mangil could tell that pain and suffering were heading their way.
Oh no. This one's bad. This one's really, really bad!
Mangil had never before seen a bio with his own two eyes. The fact that bios were even real was unbelievable in and of itself. Regardless, as this young man stepped out of the pool scowling and growling, Mangil had to wonder: did all bios look this angry? Because this had to have been the angriest-looking face he'd ever witnessed in thousands upon thousands of years.
"What fucking bullshit!" he shouted, baring his teeth. "A little snake did that? A snake? I fought like a giant to get here. I had to kill a spider the size of a house. And then a five-foot snake sends my guts everywhere? Oh, I'm pissed. I am so, so pissed!"
He walked towards them, his eyes angry, his gaze indifferent, and his body dripping water. Mangil felt such terror. If he took just one more step to the left, Mangil would have to address him. If he took just one more step to the right, his sister would, instead. As her brother, he should have wanted this kid to co closer to himself. That was the right thing to feel. That was what a brother should feel. And yet, to his utter sha and humiliation, he wanted so desperately for his sister to save him. He wanted her to protect him because he was so scared.
No, don't. Please!
He took a step towards Mangil. Gods. It was him. He would have to be the one to bear the brunt and pain of this bio's rage. He opened his mouth to speak. He clamped down on his emotions to prevent himself from trembling. And then, finding his courage, he said, "H—"
"Hello there, adventurer!" his sister called out in violation of the rules, which both shad and touched his heart. She was protecting him. But he should've been the one protecting her.
The boy flicked his head in her direction and narrowed his eyes. His anger was so intense that it could be felt. "Now what kind of shithole did I end up in?"
"It is good to see you, adventurer," his sister continued. "My na is Manomuna, and this is our humble little village. We do not have much, but we have heard a tale of a nearby—"
"Shut the fuck up!" he snapped as though in a frenzy. "Dumb bitch! You think I want to hear your shit?" He marched over to her. "Do you think I give a rat's fucking ass what you have to—"
Sothing changed. Sothing changed so abruptly and so fast that Mangil did not know what it was or why. It happened so quickly that it couldn't even be followed. One mont, the young man was storming over to Manomuna, his bare feet stomping on the brick hard enough to leave cracks that would later need to be repaired by hand, as nothing in their village reset weekly like it did in the city.
During this, Mangil had to use every last ounce of his will to keep up his facial lock. He had the sense that he was about to endure the worst couple of monts in all of his existence.
But then…then the young man stopped short, drew his head back, and the entirety of his facial expression changed. In the blink of an eye, the anger and hatred on his face were wiped away as though swept by a tsunami. Every single aspect of his expression changed in just that one instant. His mouth, his eyes, the tension in his forehead—all of it was wiped clean and replaced by sothing else. Sothing that looked to be an uneven cross between extre shock and unbearable regret.
"Oh…oh no, oh no, oh no," he said, whispering at first. He then approached Manomuna even more quickly. He threw out his hands, grabbed the side of her head, and leaned in closer. He squinted. Then he tilted his head to the side and squinted so more. What was he looking at? What had caused such a drastic change in his reaction?
"You're sentient," he said abruptly, the words coming out as such a surprise that Mangil trembled—the first sign of him losing his grip over his body lock.
"Oh my Gods. Oh—oh, oh, no. Please. Please forgive , um, Manomuna. That…that was so wrong of . I didn't know you were…" He removed his hands from her face and placed one right over his heart. "You can't even know how sorry I am right now. I'm an asshole, but I'm not evil. The things I just said to you—I swear to you in the na of my dead mother, I didn't an them. It was an accident. I thought you were just a, you know, a normal NPC. Oh, Gods, I can't believe I just hurt you that way. If Kal saw do that…"
HOW DOES HE KNOW? Mangil shouted in his mind. It should be impossible. How can he possibly know? There's no way. There's…did we do sothing wrong? How can a bio possibly figure out that we are thinkers?
His sister, for her part, found the strength to continue playing her part despite the utter confusion and shock she herself must be feeling. Though she did stumble slightly, sothing that must have been making the others in the village very, very nervous as they stayed right where they were without moving.
"I…I…I am Manomuna, adventurer. Welco to our humble village. We do not have much to offer you, adventurer, but—"
"It's okay," he said. "You don't have to do this. You're not my slave. Is Adamus making you do this? Gods, I hate that prick." He put his hands on her shoulders again, and her facial lock broke. Redness entered her cheeks. Was she…was she blushing? And why were her eyes glancing down between his legs?
That's disgusting! He's a bio!
"I…I…I…I am M-M-M-Manomuna, adventurer. W-w-welco t-to our humble—"
"Please," he said, softly. "After what happened to Landy, I can't even stand watching you do this to yourself. I can't. I physically—I an ntally—can't handle it. If I'm causing you any kind of distress, I'll just leave. I've got to hike 50 miles now to pick up all my QI stuff. I didn't realize the downside of the QI is that you lose everything on death and have to run back to pick it up. But anyways, long story short, uh, if you're not allowed to speak to , I'm not going to force you. I know how horrible he can be, Adamus. But I can't even…I can't stand here and watch you be forced to—"
Of all people, it was Village Elder Golobara, who completely broke first. "Please forgive us!" he shouted, his voice trembling, tears running down his face. He threw himself into a kneeling position at the boy's feet. "If you must punish soone for breaking character, then punish . If we have ruined your experience, only I should suffer." He looked up pleadingly. "Please do not harm us. We cannot die, but we feel pain. Just like you do, bio."
The young man's mouth fell open. "No, no, I wasn't…I would never. Please, stand up. I'm so sorry about how I yelled at you. I always yell at NPCs because they're not usually sentient. Forget everything you saw do when I got here. That wasn't . I an, yeah, that was , but that was thinking I was alone."
"You're not…upset with us?"
The question seed to rattle him. "Oh, Gods, no. I'm upset with . Not you." He knelt down and lifted the village elder up into a standing position. "I'm not lying to you when I say how truly, truly sorry I am for how I spoke to your…whatever she is to you."
"She's my daughter," Father said, his voice nervous as he stepped forward. "Manomuna is my daughter, and of course she forgives you. We all forgive you, adventurer. We all beg for you to forgive us as well."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "You'd have to do sothing wrong first. Hey, um, I know this is a lot to ask, but I'm kind of naked here. Is there any way I could please enter one of your hos and borrow a tablecloth or sothing? I know it's weird having a stranger ask permission to enter your ho, but I'm really kind of uncomfortable standing around here like this, and I left my spare armor set in my QI, so I've got nothing in box 1 to wear."
Manomuna, at long last, spoke. Her face was now so red it looked like it might pop. "I think…I think you look fine this way, actually," she said, her words coming out as a squeak. "B-b-b-but! But that's just my opinion."
The young man smiled at her. "If soone nad Kalana Vayra ever passes through here, you need to promise you will not tell her you saw my…you know. Also, thanks for speaking to . Don't worry, I won't report you or anything."
Mangil at last undid the lock on his face, though he did so hesitantly. It seed like this young man was not hostile. But that could change in a mont's notice. For now, he decided to be careful around this bio. Nevertheless, he followed them inside and said, "My na is Mangil, and I have plenty of clothing that will fit you."
The boy nodded. "Oh, great! Uh, do you happen to have anything with a little less grass on it? I'm not trying to be picky or whatever."
"This is a costu," he said. "I usually wear jeans."
"Jeans sounds great, actually. I'm all for jeans."
"Y-you know what they are?"
"Doesn't everybody?"
How does this bio know what jeans are? Has he been to the city?
"Oh, wow! You got AC in this place? Didn't expect that. Ahh! That feels so good. What've you got it on, 71? That's perfect."
"22, actually," Village Elder Golobara said with a sigh. "And you're not supposed to know we have that."
"22? Ohh, right, that's with the other number system."
"Other number system?"
"Yeah, it turns out there's more than one. Anyway, it's so nice in here."
Village Elder Golobara shot him a look, and Mangil croaked. He'd forgotten to turn the AC off! Also, how the hell did the bio know what AC even was in the first place? Everybody always said Galterrans were like cave-people. That they knew how to use sticks or sothing and make fire but not much else. What the hell was going on? For the first ti since his arrival, Mangil's fear was slowly giving way to curiosity.
And now, he almost wanted to risk actually asking the bio a question.
This was becoming so strange.
Reviews
All reviews (0)