Raine VS The End of the World (19 page)

Gerrit dodged the taller man’s rapier and took two steps forward. He pushed up with his forearm-mounted shield and smashed him hard on the nose.

Laughing, the man swished and stabbed at Gerrit, drawing blood just underneath his ribcage.

Raine gasped in horror, but her friend jumped to safety.

Seeing her awake and safely disguised, the boy twitched three fingers on his left hand and made a fist, activating a Stasis spell that froze the man’s hand to his weapon.

“Ha! So I see you’ve learned a thing or two,” the man chuckled. “Very good, Gerrit. Very good.”

The man closed his eyes for a second. He seemed to be glowing with heat. The ice around his hand melted into a puddle on the floor. He tossed the rapier from his burning right hand to his left and quickly slid a handful of knives from a fanny pack.

“Let’s see how you dance,” he quipped, tossing enchanted knife after knife at Gerrit. “Maybe I’ll discover what makes you tick.”

The boy spun in mid-air, swiftly evading the blades in an impossible display of agility. A stray knife ricocheted off a lamp, sending shattered porcelain Raine’s way. Luckily, the shards vanished before hitting her, and the lamp began to piece itself back together.

Before long the mystery man had drained his handful of weapons, and was looking quite peeved. He tossed his rapier at Gerrit, who caught it in mid-air merely inches from his face.

“Impossible,” he muttered.

“You mad, bro?” Gerrit laughed.

Gerrit screamed out a war cry, twisted the rapier around in his hand, and tossed it straight through the other man’s chest. The swordsman stood there, defeated, as Gerrit cast a spell that set the weapon on fire.

Flames engulfed the body, which fell to its knees and disappeared in a puff of magical smoke, leaving a disembodied spirit. The apparition shook its head.

A notification banner spanned the room: “We have a winner:
NinjaMageKnight99
!”

“This turn of events disappoints me,” the spirit harrumphed. “I forfeit the match, but you are in my domain, and by my decree this shall not count towards either of our win/loss records and will have no bearing on the rankings, nor shall you receive your share of the experience points. If you take issue with that, then I will summon an Arbiter, in which case I can guarantee you will find it difficult to challenge anyone again, not to mention I’m sure he wouldn’t look kindly on your code modifications.”

“Sheesh, take it easy,” Gerrit laughed. “I get it. I was just having a little fun, your Dukeishness. Next time I’ll go easier on you.”

The ghost took a swig from a flask and inspected Raine, who had not a single clue who or what she resembled, only that she felt pain in her lower back.

Now that the chaos was over, she was able to read the username above his head, which read:
Duke Ricard Stabbington, the Third
.

“I beg your utmost forgiveness, mademoiselle. Had I known that such a vision of loveliness was asleep in this chamber, I should not have broached it,” he said to Raine before turning to Gerrit. “Is this lovely specimen your newest prospect, my beau?”

“Not exactly,” Gerrit admitted. “We’re just friends.”

The man’s ghost looked her up and down.

“I thought so. She is a bit… advanced for you.”

Ricard approached and held out his hand. Raine offered hers; he took it between his and kissed it. Its ghostly texture gave Raine the feeling that someone was breathing cool air on her. He was probably in his early thirties, dressed like a nineteenth century French nobleman, and he played the part with an admirable intensity.

His charms, however, were lost on Raine, who was still waking up, and more than a little weirded out that a ghost was kissing her hand.

“I fear that our encounter has left you in a state of fright. Again, I apologize. This boy and I had a score to settle, but I would put it off for a lifetime if it would give you a nanosecond’s peace of mind.”

“Indeed,” Gerrit mocked, placing his hand on the Duke’s shoulder. “Duke Stabbington, this is Neira. She’s asked me to run her through the Forbidden Tower.”

The Duke gave out a shrill, curt laugh.

“Miss Neira, surely you don’t trust this under-geared fool to take you through one of the most difficult dungeons on this server
alone. You’re better off with a real man.”

Raine was flustered. She looked at Gerrit, wondering what to say. He rolled his hands, as if to say, ‘go with it’.

“Why, that is a very generous offer, but I couldn’t possibly impose on you, Sir Stabbington,” Raine said, trying her best to sound regal.

The Duke bowed dramatically before her, seemingly touched by her performance.

“Please, call me Ricard. And it’s no imposition, as our destinations are one and the same. I don’t believe in coincidence. Fate must have drawn me here today.”

Raine completely failed at concealing the redness in her cheeks.

“If you insist, S-sir Ricard. I cannot deny such a generous offer, but in truth, I’m quite new to this world. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Worry not, mademoiselle. As for the fighting, leave that to me. My troupe and I shall be waiting downstairs.”

With that, he swished his cape, flashing his golden lion crest, and vacated the room.

“What was that all about?” Raine asked of Gerrit.

“Oh, just a friendly rivalry. He’s one of the
‘Verse’s
‘hero’ players. His job is to be part of the scenery by day and party like a royal all night. The pay and perks are great, but it’s basically a full-time position. One of his duties includes making newbies feel welcome.”

“So you basically maneuvered him into taking me through a dungeon? Sorry, I still don’t think I understand what’s going on.”

“It works like this – his posse and I will power through the tower, and take you along for the ride. He’s got a good crew, so we should be out in time for dinner. It’s loaded with enemies, and that means Gold and experience. All you’ll have to think about is where to put your status and skill points, and you can always change them around later if you feel like it.”

Raine thought about this for a bit. She wasn’t yet sure what she thought of the Duke, but if doing this meant less stress on Gerrit and that she could better defend herself, there were no arguments there. Plus, running through a dungeon? It sounded kind of fun.

“You don’t have to do this,” continued Gerrit. “It’ll be easy enough to tell him that you’ve changed your mind, although he did seem quite smitten with you.”

“No, I want to,” Raine said. “I don’t want to be a burden. I want to learn how to defend myself.”

Gerrit made for the broken doorway, which was in the process of self-repair. He gave Raine a look of confidence.

“Just for the record, you haven’t been a burden to me, not one bit. Take your time.”

Raine studied herself in the bathroom mirror. She was stunned by her appearance – now all curves, she looked like a princess in her mid-to-late twenties, and her chest had filled out to an absurd level. She wondered how she was going to fit into her old outfit, but to her surprise the garments adjusted accordingly as soon as she selected them from her inventory, leaving her pajamas and old socks on the floor.

“I wonder who I’m going to wake up as tomorrow,” she told Chance, who only mewed and played with her old socks before she ran them through the ‘laundry’ compartment of her bag. Like the rest of her clothes, they were instantly cleaned.

Before long, Raine came down the stairs and walked out to the town square, which was packed with powerful fellows showing off their armor and spoils. Chance floated by alongside her, as if eager to meet Ricard’s company. Ricard anxiously introduced her to his professional team of treasure hunters – Valerie, a bunny-eared woman in a jet-black ninja suit with crossbows mounted on both arms, Samuel, a hulking cyclops whose axe was as wide as his chest, Soren, a friendly-looking druid and summoner who sported animalistic features on his jolly face, and Cooke, an icy woman in a flowing black and white robe whose two-headed serpent staff housed opposite but powerful energies.

Finally, there was Ricard himself, who’d revived to human form and was now decked out in a classy suit of golden armor.

“It’s very nice to meet you all,” Raine said with a polite curtsy, which she thought would fit her new character.

“The feeling is mutual, Neira,” bowed Soren, and the hawks perched on his shoulders followed suit. “I see your familiar is completely resistant to Arcane Magic. He’ll be a great help to us.”

Chance did a mid-air somersault in recognition.

“Welcome to
Avidya
,” Valerie said, sheepishly avoiding her gaze.

“Stay close to me,” Cooke said softly. Her voice sounded like a faint winter wind whistling through a tunnel. “I’m the healer, but I’m doing triple duty as a buffing caster and all-around mage. If you’re hurt or need any ailments cured, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Raine wasn’t sure what to say, so she nodded and thanked everyone again as they partied up and shared their Health and Mana information.

They made a quick stop at an apprentice blacksmith, where Raine purchased an EtherUnreal Robe, an Almost Decent Staff, a Half-Hardy Shield, and a Spellbind +1 Circlet, for she’d decided that she was going to try her hand at being a witch. Gerrit lent her a couple of extra accessories, helping pump up her defense and resistance, and took a minute to max out his supply of Chimera Wings with Yossa’s funds.

He put his arm around her in a friendly manner as they walked out from the town and back into the forest, this time towards the ominous tower. There was a quick stop for breakfast.

[NinjaMageKnight99]: “You doing all right, Raine?”

Seeing her real name snapped the girl out of her thoughts. Raine simply nodded, realizing that she was being somber and displaying signs of nervousness.

To the others, I probably just look anxious because I’m a beginner. Normally I’d love to get in on this sort of thing.

Only, every alarm system in my body is telling me that something is very wrong… Usually, I listen to that voice, but this is my big chance to grow stronger in this world, and that might help me beat it, or get to SBB, whichever comes first. Sure, I’m a little scared. But how can I possibly turn back from this?

Raine often learned the hard way how stubbornly she would persist, steeling herself to meet any challenge head-on.

Another data storm made landfall just as the party entered the looming tower.

“Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery; none but ourselves can free our minds.” – Bob Marley (adapted from Marcus Garvey)

In the heart of the multi-tiered, planetarium-sized
Avidya
Server Control chamber, hundreds of screens zeroed in on the well-armed group as they crossed the threshold into the Forbidden Tower and displayed their findings around the real-time holo-miniature of the dungeon.

Here were six of the most highly regarded warriors in the realm, and they were expertly escorting a Level 2 weakling into a deathtrap.

Between other tasks, the Queen had been watching idly since the night previous, expecting something, anything, to come to light from either Raine or Gerrit about Lily’s master plan. Instead, she was forced to endure the couple’s light flirting, which seemed to result in little to no progress on either end.

“Take them in,” Lacie had urged her in private. “Freeze her. The girl’s role is unclear to me, but I know Gerrit is a key player in the operation. The boy was there, at the end. Wake him up, convert him to our cause, and he’ll become a valuable asset.”

Queen Lorelei, however, remained silent on the matter. General Lacie was head of national security, but her experience was with the outside world. She had little knowledge of the workings of
Endless Metaverse.

The way things were looking, Raine seemed merely a dumb pawn with an unsavory data trail, and freezing her would reveal nothing of Lily’s bigger picture. The boy was the powerful one with connections, and to make things worse, his account, like hers, was patched in from an untraceable pirate signal. The Admiral would undoubtedly have a backup plan. Perhaps Raine was just a clever diversion, but the data storms had her thinking otherwise.

More could be gained by watching and waiting. But to pass up this opportunity might prove to be a fatal error.

When Queen Lorelei had broached the problem of the persistent data storms to her advisers, she was faced with a wall of silence.

“No bright ideas? No one? Anyone?”

Filled with rage, she took the manual controls in hand and twisted a small knob, which had the expected result of all her senior staff members clutching their heads in absolute agony as she overloaded their nano-machines with corrupted data.

“I may have dumbed down the education system too thoroughly. I cannot believe how incompetent you all are,” the Queen said bitterly. “I’ll take the strings from here. Prepare to relegate control.”

A singular voice bellowed from the crowd. “Wait!”

She released the knob. The pain ceased, albeit temporarily. It was the man Holdfast, who’d just assumed his new office that very day. Every eye in the room was on him, with most as thankful for his interjection as they were fearful for his life.

“If you’ll pardon me, Your Grace,” the young man began, “I would like to propose an experiment.”

“What for?” Queen Lorelei replied.

“To see just how important this Raine is to Enemy Number One. We may be able to kill two birds with one stone.”

“Go on.”

“As long as she remains connected from the same source and doesn’t use her visor, the target cannot be traced. Her access point is heavily encrypted. There is a possibility that triggering d-mat and forcing respawn from a central access point will create a blip in her connection. From there, we can run a remote trace. As for baiting the trap, it’s a simple matter of scaling mechanics,” he posited. “This is the perfect opportunity. We turn the tower into a total deathtrap with a few surprises at the end. If Raine is close to death, Lily may make herself present to save her, and we’ll have them both in the bag. If Lily doesn’t show, we’ll nab them both.”

The Queen gave him the slightest of nods.

“Mr. Holdfast, I like the way you think. There’s other business I must attend to, so I’m leaving this in your hands. You have free reign over the tower. Kill the virus before it spreads any further.”

√

Lady Claire Alexandria skipped out on her weekly managerial duties to wait eagerly in the living room. On the tubes, some
Metaverse
reality show was on its season finale, broadcasting Developer-crafted, ‘true-life’ melodramas worldwide.

The ‘bots had dusted the place spotless, Archie was impeccably groomed, and tea was set for two. The
Raven
had returned; its pilot should be at the door any second now.

Only, Lacie never came. The three-hour season finale ended with all but two players rebooting their accounts. Calls and video messages had gone unanswered. A personal memo to the Queen was ignored. Generals Beech and Macleod were both visiting their families, an unusual portent for the workaholics, especially considering the rumors following Jakarta. All-out war might be just around the corner, yet her fiancée was nowhere to be found.

Claire let the tea grow cold and popped more than the recommended dose of 5-Oma.

I’m turning into a regular Sleeping Beauty here. If there’s a price for everything, this is the cost a useless wretch like me pays to chronically avoid pain. I mean, I know I shouldn’t be doing this,
she thought.
I could be contributing, overseeing the Overseer’s work with Marketing Divisions in Sectors Fifty-Three to Sixty.

That’s my duty, isn’t it?

Only, today, I couldn’t care less. I’m a wreck, but I’m also a symptom of this miserable system. Lame as it is, at the very least, that’s something I can be honest about.

Envious of the carefree denizens of
Endless Metaverse,
Claire drifted off into her own personal fantasy land.

∩

Chance’s body glowed even more intensely than usual, its light competing with the growing darkness and brightening the path for the advancing party. Soren took one of many torches that lined the walls.

They could hear other players involved in skirmishes ahead, and it wasn’t long before the company encountered a cadre of reanimated skeletons.

Raine was told to lure them in, and that by drawing simple runes with her staff held high, she could cast a handful of weak elemental spells to slow the undead minions.

Valerie loosed poison arrows at their chests, Soren summoned dire wolves to gnaw at their bones, Samuel lopped off the heads of the ones that got close, and Gerrit and Cooke took care to guard the back end.

They felled about three hundred walking skeletons before they reached the old-fashioned elevator and headed up to the second floor.

Raine checked her stats. She’d jumped from Level 2 to 7.

“I don’t remember there being so many of them,” Gerrit said in between exhausted breaths. He slipped on his visor as the lift moved ever so slowly up the shaft.

“There aren’t supposed to be,” Ricard reflected.

He shot Raine a quick glance, as if testing her reaction.

Raine shivered as she fumbled to assign her skill points before they reached the next floor.

She felt ready to tell everyone, to warn them that someone powerful was trying to harm her.
Wasn’t it wrong to keep something that like that a secret?
But on the other hand, if these people knew that she was a fugitive, they might fall into deep trouble with the Templars. The less they know, the better it might be for them in the long run.

These relatively minor worries evaporated in the face of the ghastly horrors that awaited her on the pitch-black second floor.

Ghosts flooded the party, and it was all Raine could do to keep up with her allies’ advance. Cooke hurriedly cast a protective spell over her, and Raine shot minor spells at the dangerous banshees while the rest of the troupe moved forward while rotating, shields up, White Magic spells at the ready. Chance dimmed his coat.

The constant flashes of light were blinding, and just keeping her bearings became a difficult task for poor Raine. She began to feel delirious, and bumped into Gerrit more than once. The boy locked his arm around hers, and helped her evade enemy attacks – just one hit from these monsters and she’d be out for the count.

By the time they reached the elevator to the third floor, everyone was exhausted. Cooke passed around healing items instead of spells, and seemed miffed about having to use an item to replenish her pool of Mana so early on.

“There must be something amiss with this infernal tower,” Samuel grumbled.

“Maybe they’re making it extra special today, just for us,” Soren chimed in with a chuckle.

“This is no laughing matter,” the hulking man retorted. “If I die right now, I’m losing a fortnight’s worth of experience.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” piped Valerie, swapping out her anti-poltergeist defense charms for ones that offered fire resistance. “I for one welcome a challenge.”

“You don’t have to say it out loud, woman,” whispered Samuel. “They’re probably going to make the next floor twice as annoying now, no thanks to you.”

The elevator dinged to a sudden stop.

Before them was a narrow labyrinth, with dizzying walls of fire and strange multi-limbed creatures hopping in and out of the flames. It was impossible to tell where their heads were, and their legs morphed into tentacles that, suspiciously enough, kept going straight for Raine.

Sensing this pattern, the party was able to overcome the bizarre demons by using Raine as bait, but the constant heat from the combusting walls leading to multiple dead ends and false pathways left the party fatigued by the time they reached the next elevator a sweaty, charred mess.

Samuel shook his head at Valerie, who said nothing and hung her head – her delicate ears were singed in at least three places. Cooke passed around some burn salve. Raine had a few minor burns but declined the item, as the others needed it far more, and she had a plethora of skill points to assign.

She had just reached Level 13.

Everyone held their breath for the next floor, which saw them struggling in a room without gravity. Gerrit took Raine’s hand and helped her push off of pillars for traction, all the while slicing up parasitic leeches. One of them latched onto Soren as he was in the midst of commanding his three trusty hawks, and the druid began to hallucinate, sending the birds to attack his party members.

Ricard and Cooke flew back to help their summoner. An entire pack of the leeches leapt out in ambush and halted their advance. Valerie’s poison weapons had no effect on them, and Gerrit and Samuel were busy fending off the possessed birds. Raine split from Gerrit to heal her allies.

Suddenly, a figure launched out of the opposite elevator at top speed. It rebounded off a support arch and smashed into Soren, knocking him into a marble pillar. The mysterious dark-skinned man, whom Raine could now see was dressed in the garb of a monk, grabbed the druid’s neck and squeezed.

Everyone was aghast. It looked like the monk was choking poor Soren. But as the druid opened his jaws to breathe, the monk quickly uncorked a bottle and placed it against Soren’s lips, carefully massaging his throat.

The monk suddenly realized that without gravity to ease the liquid down his patient’s esophagus, he had to resort to desperate measures. He forced Soren’s mouth and nose closed, and while gasping for breath Soren drew in the strange medicine, fell into a choking fit, and almost immediately snapped back into normal consciousness.

Without delay, the hawks halted their assault and flew over to help Ricard and Cooke. Gerrit and Samuel followed, bouncing from pillar to pillar.

“I am in your debt,” Soren said to his savior as they reached a safe landing. “Thank you.”

“I require no thanks,” the monk replied. “I ask only for your assistance and companionship in fighting the main boss. I shall explain once everyone has gathered.”

Before entering the elevator, the party took a much-needed rest, restoring their Health, Stamina, and Mana, and dividing the few pieces of loot, most of which went to Raine. Cooke sat and meditated, hastening the regeneration of her spent energies. Valerie and Soren made some booster sandwiches. They were all low on healing items.

“My name is Thaddius,” began the monk in a deep voice soft as a clear brook on a lazy summer day. His presence was soothing to Raine; in many ways, he reminded her of Jordan.

“I was on the top floor of this tower, taming the dragon-spawn and negotiating to trade my wares for emerald scales when it happened. The ground began shifting beneath my feet. Players around me were swallowed up in warp portals, presumably sent out of the tower. I activated my maxed out Iron Leg technique, keeping my feet rooted at all costs. Despite its best efforts, the portal seemed to pass me over. I have been visiting this very location almost daily to gather scales to line our temple, and nothing like this has ever happened. I knew instinctively that this was a sign.”

“What kind of sign?” Raine asked.

“The very best kind,” the monk replied. “I believe this is an indication that the chosen one has come, and is in need of protection.”

Samuel guffawed.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those damn Doomsdayers… how is anything a sign of anything except for cruelty on the part of the Developers? Answer me that, holy man. There will be no chosen one. It’s a myth passed down to give us poor lot some hope, so we’ll be easier to subjugate.”