The Bathrobe Knight

Volume 3

Written by: Charles Dean

Edited by: Joshua Swayne

Copyright © 2015 by Charles Dean

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Table of Contents

Prologue (Welcome to Stub City)

Chapter 1: It’s Not Delivery

Chapter 2: Don’t Eat Yellow Snow

Chapter 3: Homewreckers and Party Guests

Chapter 4: Flap Protection Saves Lives

Chapter 5: Cape Not Included

Chapter 6: She’s Still Not Dead?

Chapter 7: Coming Clean Feels Dirty

Chapter 8: Dungeons and Pandas: Dice, Die and Die

Chapter 9: Crap, I died. Hit the Reset Button!

Chapter 10: Save and Continue

Reliquary

(Monsters, Races, Characters, Random Drops, Cheat Codes, Bosses, & Gamer Lingo)

Prologue (Welcome to Stub City)

A certain stillness could be felt as morning light crept through the windows of the simple childlike bedroom and began its slow and steady siege upon the woman’s peaceful sleeping face. The stale, dead air of a room with little ventilation and lots of dust would, at first glance, have appeared to be unoccupied if it weren’t for the wheelchair tracks that carved tracks through the dust connecting the four major parts of the room: the bed, the computer and dive machine, the bathroom, and the exit. Past that, nothing in the room was ever touched. It was as if everything other than those four places served no purpose at all. Those odd square inches of walk space, the book shelves, the nightstands and old dressers filled with a teenage girl’s clothes would only ever have any utility again if the owners of the house ever decided to sell and move.

They hadn’t always been useless and unused. In fact, at one point, every inch of the room had constantly changed to serve a new function. The drawers, now filled with clothes that hadn’t been touched in ten years, had once been emptied and reloaded on a regular basis as an excited child grew through multiple sizes and phases. It was just that, after the tragedy, the parents hadn’t had the heart to touch any of it. The girl hadn’t asked. Some set of mixed emotions had twisted in her head and told her that they were precious, and letting go of those things was letting go of everything, and the parents had never offered. The room was just a set of belongings and a few random patches of empty space now that were to be continuously preserved as if they were exhibits an unstaffed museum.

The stillness persisted as it did every morning, and the woman’s face twisted and contorted into a frown as it did every morning. This was a happier day than usual, but a smile on her face in this world was as infrequent as a meaningful moral message on reality television: it never showed up, and when it did, not even the messenger would realize what had happened.

“Go away,” she mumbled under her breath, turning over to let her long black hair serve as a shield against the assailant rays of supposed joy and wakefulness. “Let me sleep. I don’t have anywhere to be,” she pleaded. A fact in and of itself, as between her finished homeschooling and her lack of employment and her full stomach from yesterday, even drinking water today was optional. At most, the only thing she would need to get up to do was use the bathroom.

But the ever glowing annoyance, silent and steadfast, continued to nudge and pressure her against her will to move. To wake up and experience life. To wake up and take a walk outside. That troll of a sun, she moaned as the thought hit her, finally giving in and rubbing her eyes. You want me to go outside, but I’m just moving this body from one world of darkness to another. She groaned to herself as she finished cleaning her eyes of awkward yellow stuff that somehow managed to manifest in every empty crevice of her eyelids the second she closed them for even a simple nap. After her eyes were clean, she leaned up and moved to swing her legs down and begin the same trite routine that she followed every morning. This time, however, the stillness was broken. The silence that only ever occasionally had to fight off the sounds of deep breathing or awkward rustling was cracked and shattered.

“OWWEEEE!!!” she screamed, grasping her leg that had somehow stumped its toe during the shifting. “OWE!!!” she yelled again, the pain still sharp and annoying.

“What is it? Are you okay? Dear? Is something wrong?” Her dad slammed through the door within thirty seconds of her uncharacteristically loud bellowing. “Should I call the doctor?”

“I’m here, I’m here! What’s wrong? Is everything okay? You look a little paler than usual, are you feeling alright?” Her mom barged in immediately after the dad, panicked and gasping for breath.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just stubbed my toe and it hurt like the dickens,” she said, still trying to puzzle out what she had stubbed it on. She finally managed to roll her legs forward and sit up and properly to face her parents. “I said I’m fine,” she repeated, “it was just me stubbing my toe.” She winced at the annoying tingling of pain that still remained as she noticed her parents unwavering eyes and realized that both of their faces had suddenly turned more static and unmoving than any part of the room had ever been. They were staring at her with a hollow, unwavering looks that could have been the masks in a Halloween shop. “Mom, Dad, really, I’m fine. It was just my toe,” she tried again, but they just stared at her.

“Your . . . toe?” the dad asked first.

“Yeah . . . just, my . . . to . . .e, had . . .” The woman trailed off mid-sentence as she started to realize why her parents had gone quiet, why they were so shocked. “I just stubbed my . . .” She tried to finish the sentence, but it was no use. The shock had struck her like a thunderbolt of clarity and left her brain fried and sizzling in the aftermath of the insight.

“Call the doctor. Call the doctor right away,” the mom said as she freed herself from the static cage of stunned bafflement. “We have to tell the doctor, call the doctor right away! THIS IS GREAT!” she cheered, her old wrinkled face ironed clean with excitement as youthful joy swept over her and the father. “You felt your toe!” She hugged her daughter, tears streaming down her face and onto the daughter’s pajamas.

The father was part of the hug as soon as it was made, the two doting parents unable to contain themselves, but no sooner had he hugged the two women than he had also made it uncomfortable as he reached into his pocket with one hand and started fishing out his cell phone, without ever leaving the hug. “She felt her toe!” he exclaimed excitedly before standing up to make the call.

The mom, finally freeing her daughter from an embrace that would have made a bear proud, held her daughter by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. “This is great news. The doctor said you would never have feeling there again! This is great!”

The daughter didn’t move. The whole event had left her with a case of paralysis that seemed to prevent even blinking as she gazed back into her mother's eyes--a mother who was crying through a smile.

“Valerie, when did you start wearing red contacts?” the mother asked out of the blue.

Red contacts? I’m not wearing any contacts?

Her father interrupted her before she could make sense of the thought, however. “I got the doctor on the phone! I got the doctor on th . . . Yes, Doctor Anderson, we need an appointment right away. Valerie can feel her toes!”

Chapter 1 – It’s Not Delivery

Darwin:

“Why are you being so nice?” Darwin finally cut to the chase as his eyes darted back and forth between Stephanie and Charles. “You couldn’t have had this welcome feast prepared just out of the kindness of your heart.”

Charles laughed. “Kindness of my heart? Oh, dear. That is rich,” he chortled at the idea. “No, I’m doing this to help you out. Not out of kindness, but out of familial love.”

Darwin blinked. “You’re . . . not my dad, are you?”

“Well, actually . . .” --Charles stared at his guest of honor-- “Darwin . . . I am your father.”

“No. This is a joke, right?” Darwin started scooting his chair back from the table, his brain refusing to comprehend what he had just heard. The news was too much to take. It couldn’t be the case. Could it? He knew he wasn’t human, but he had never met another demon outside of Tiqpa. Charles didn’t have red eyes, he wasn’t exceptionally muscular, and his tan was far too impressive to match the complexion of the demons he had met so far. There is no way that Charles could be like me. Is there?

Stephanie burst out laughing, clearly unable to contain herself. “Darwin . . . the look on your face right then . . . priceless.” She managed to get the words out even as she doubled over in a cackle fit, her eyes watering as she fought to regain her breath.

Darwin let out a sigh of relief. So it was just a joke. “Alright then, why are you giving me the royal treatment?”

“When I told you to do the joke, I told you that you were supposed to do the robotic breathing! Without that breathing, the line totally fails,” Stephanie, who was turning red from laughing too hard, chided Charles.

“Ah. So it was like that.” Charles’s face bore a pensive expression for a moment, but he assumed a good-natured air as he looked at Stephanie. “You still owe me. I kept up my end of the bargain.”

“Right. It’s all yours, old man.” Stephanie pulled out a small, black object no bigger than a golf ball and tossed it to Charles.

“Yeah, so I may have lied about the father part, but we are family. I’m your brother-in-law,” he smiled, pocketing the item Stephanie had tossed him. “You’ve probably already met my wife, Eve--your sister--in Tiqpa.”

Darwin smiled as the memory of meeting Eve surfaced in his head. It was a conversation he would likely never forget. It had lead him both to Stephanie and the Creation Stone, set him on the path to create the new StormGuard Alliance within Tiqpa and was the first time that he had known that someone else out there was like him. It had been a great and unexpected comfort in a world that tried its best not to offer him a moment to breathe. The only thing he couldn’t put together was why Qasin, during the beach battle, had told him that Eve was trying to save him from the Stephanie--especially since Darwin’s new personal cheerleader was working with Eve’s husband.

“Yeah, I did.” Darwin looked at Stephanie, still trying to make sense of the fact that no-one was turning into stone on her account as he continued to address Charles. “But if you two are married, why isn’t she here?”

Charles’s good humor seemed to sour just slightly as his face hardened for an instant. It was a small change that would have been entirely unnoticeable if it weren’t for Darwin’s keen eye. “We’ve had differences of opinion, you might say. To this day, we have different ideas on how best to take care of certain things: like our daughter, for example.”

I have a niece? Eve is a mother? Darwin was getting bombarded with one revelation after another, leaving him shell shocked and a little too overwhelmed to come up with a proper reaction.

“Don’t forget my part. Family ties or not, you still might not have helped him without me,” Stephanie said as she tossed a piece of candy up in the air and caught it in her mouth.

“What? There is more?” Darwin wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He remembered someone saying that there was still stuff to discuss before the fourth member arrived.

“To our relationship? No. You’re my brother-in-law, and that’s the end of it,” Charles said flatly. “What she means to say is that another reason we’re here is because she asked me to help you. I don’t know much about her personal history, but we’ve worked together a great deal professionally. I owe most of my fortune, the development of Tiqpa and the completion of our AI models to the aid rendered by Stephanie. So, naturally, when she asked me to help you, I knew that I wasn’t in a position to refuse.”

Darwin closed his eyes for a minute. “Wait . . . How old are you, Stephanie?” He had to ask. He knew he should have asked more important questions: How did she know he would need help? What had she asked Charles to do for him? But, for some reason, the age question was the first one to pop into his mind after listening to Charles, and it instantly took priority.

“What? Can’t date an older woman?” Stephanie just laughed. “Well, if you must know, I’m over a century old. For our people, demons and all . . . I’m actually kind of young. Don’t go ditching me just cause I’m a little older than you--especially not after all the trouble I went through to help you.”

“Wait a minute. . . What exactly did you ask Charles for help with? Was it just getting us out of Tiqpa?” Darwin put down the drink he was holding and shifted uneasily in his chair. He was starting to feel like a rat in a cage. He had trusted Stephanie, but now he was finding out that more and more bits and pieces of the story he had been fed weren’t exactly right. She had never said she was young or that she wasn’t a demon. He had simply taken those things for granted--and for a number of different reasons. She spoke and dressed like she was ten years his junior, and she had explicitly stated that she was a Gorgon when he first met her, a claim which had been backed up by the statuary she left in her wake. Of course, Darwin still knew all that could have been just Steph’s in-game character, but what had really convinced him his girl was closer to eighteen than thirty was the fact that she had said he was her first. True, there were women who made it to fifty, or even to the grave, without ever having a boyfriend, but it hadn’t even crossed Darwin’s mind to put her in that category. The way the information was being handed out piecemeal here and there didn’t feel right too, and things weren’t fitting together correctly--something was missing.

“She hasn’t told you? Hmm . . . I suppose that if I were stuck in Tiqpa, I would wait until I was free too before giving the you the rundown about your condition.” Charles took the napkin from his lap and neatly wiped the crumbs from the corners of his lips before continuing. “Well, this is directly related to the matter I wished to discuss with you, so we might as well put it on the table now: Darwin, you’re going insane. You’re slowly going to start feeling the effects of an insatiable bloodlust that is genetically passed down from one male to another throughout your kind.”

“I’m going insane?” Darwin mouthed more than spoke. “Bloodlust?”

“Bloodlust. Battle hunger. There are quite a few words that we could use to classify it, but the end result will still be the same. You’re going to find it increasingly more difficult to control your craving for bloodshed as time progresses, and, eventually, you will find yourself entirely incapable of distinguishing friend from foe.” Charles explained this all calmly, sipping his root beer as if it were a finely-distilled whiskey. “I’m sure you’ve already begun to experience this to at least some small degree.”

“I have.” Darwin nodded, the memory of his irresistible urge to kill during the last fight still fresh. “It was rather intense.” He studied his beverage with a sullen resignation as if there were answers in the soda that weren’t to be found anywhere else.

“About that, Dar Dar,” Stephanie said, once more tossing a piece of candy in the air and catching it in her mouth. “That’s just the start. You’ve only had the symptom for, what, a week?”

“Isn’t it game-related though?” Darwin had to ask. He had to believe that the only reason he was feeling that type of thirst for violence was because of that awful skill in the game. It’s not like it would necessarily exist outside of Tiqpa. I never had any issues with it before I went there.

“A bit . . .” Stephanie’s face contorted as the third attempt to catch candy in her mouth failed, and a piece of milk chocolate struck against her left nostril before bouncing off and landing on one of her now-closed eyes, “But only in the sense that there are soul charges, a timer and a health bar quantifying its effects. Otherwise, it would be much harder to monitor and nearly impossible to manage.”

“If you knew all of this, how come you didn’t say anything sooner? Why didn’t I meet you before Tiqpa?” Darwin was still desperately trying to make everything fit together in his head.

“Well, that may be because your sister kind of hates me. Like, to the point where she wants to kill me. Maybe both of us . . . I don’t know. Charles, did you forget to send her chocolate chip cookies this year for Christmas?” Stephanie joked as she wiped the dark trail of shame off her nose and eyelid with the back of her wrist.

“I doubt that any amount of cocoa-filled treats will make her hate me less.” Charles said it in such a flat and matter-of-fact way that it almost felt like he had no personal attachment to the matter. “Tiqpa only added a timer and some other mechanisms to your hunger so that we would be able to measure and monitor the symptoms. It didn’t change the condition’s fundamental properties at all.”

“How is that even possible?” Darwin couldn’t decide if this science-fictionesque plot device, blood rage being harnessed by a video game, was more cliché or more ridiculous. Stephanie’s explanation was definitely both, and everything was starting to become harder to swallow than an uncracked walnut.

“Darwin, we can talk about all the details later. There’s still more to the big picture. You’re going insane. Stephanie and I built Tiqpa specifically for you, and it’s there to help you curb your rage so that no real people get killed. That’s why, eventually, we’re going to need you to go back.”

“I need to go back?” Darwin looked at the delicious food in front of him, then to Stephanie and Charles and finally at the portal. When Stephanie had first mentioned that all the NPCs in his faction could be brought through the portal, he had just assumed that he wouldn’t have to continue risking his life in Tiqpa to take care of them. He had thought that he and his people would be safe and happy, spending their hard-earned gold in the real world.

“Well, there are other options. We could arrange for you to kill livestock. Perhaps we’ll get lucky and a few butchered chickens will stop you from murdering everyone in the building or escaping to hunt down human victims until your appetite is sated. We won’t be able to constantly monitor your vitals or accurately track your hunger-related brain patterns until we can come to a far more complete understanding of your condition, but it’s up to you. I just want you to be informed before you make a choice.” Charles laid out the options clinically, his voice devoid of any form of emotion.

“DarBear . . .” Stephanie reached out and touched him. The familiar feeling was a little comforting, but also slightly unsettling. There was so much that he didn’t know about her, yet she had still put forth a great deal of effort for his sake. “You can’t tell me that the idea of playing video games to manage a condition is really a bad one. I thought the solution was cool. Can you imagine how few people would have cavities now if brushing their teeth were as exciting as a 2D platforming console game was when we were kids? If exercise were half as fun as most MMOs, Americans wouldn’t be struggling with a constant influx of diabetes like it was popcorn kernels on the floor of a movie theater.”

Truth. Who actually likes to do cardio? he thought, agreeing with her. “So I have to go into the game every day, kill stuff and hope that I don’t die in the game?”

“Well, actually, should you die in the game, you will appear at the portal. It’s your bindstone. If you had died at any time before this conversation, you would have discovered that fact on your own. I don’t know how or when you came under the impression that dying in the game meant dying in real life, but it wouldn’t be much in terms of a treatment if it had such a high chance of getting you truly killed.” Charles smiled wryly. “More details Steph forgot to share, I take it?”

“Yes, something like that.” Darwin mentally kicked himself several times. He had gone through jaw-dropping trials, emotional drama and what felt like very real agony trying not to die in a video game that apparently had no penalty for death. It was like showing up to school thinking there was a horrible test waiting for you only to find out that it was a Saturday, and you didn’t even have to be there. He stared down Stephanie, finding his annoyance redirected. “Someone apparently forgot to tell me a lot.”

“Well, would you have done anything differently?” Stephanie returned his gaze. “I mean, would you have gone down the exact same ‘save the world and rescue the innocent humans’ route if you had? I thought that not telling you was putting you in the right frame of mind to do what was necessary.”

Darwin couldn’t argue with her logic. “Yes. I probably would have, but I would have been much less stressed along the way.”

“Psh. You’re a gamer. You have to play on hardcore mode, or it isn’t fun.” She just laughed, dismissing all of his near-death experiences as nothing more than a simple set of challenges in a game, and her response somewhat bothered him. Nevertheless, the weight of the conversation bore down on Darwin and left him with too much to think about to be mad.

“So I have to go back in there.” Darwin sighed, coming to the realization that the other choice he had been presented with really wasn’t an option. He had felt Hunger’s pull, and although he had only been experiencing its sudden cravings for a week, they were already frighteningly powerful.

“Yeah, but this time we’ll be prepared to start monitoring your brain activity to see if there is a cure. The entire program just went operational last week. Theoretically, the only way you should have been forced into Tiqpa is if your condition had started to trigger in real life because you had killed someone--a situation we didn’t expect to happen so soon. Now that we can chat and prepare you for what's to come, I don’t think there should be any problems. That said, it is still your choice as to whether or not you want to go back into the game. No-one will force you.”

“Sure, no-one will force you. Who could? But I imagine that your guild would be pretty bummed out if you just quit on them.” Stephanie shrugged. She had gone from playing with candy to fiddling with wrappers, twisting them around and making some sort of candy wrapper origami. “I mean, that weird redneck samurai, the anime kid on a sugar rush and your three unfried chicken wings might all take offense to you just randomly quitting.”

“Yes, and you must still consider your quest. Do you want to give up on the hopeful multitudes you have just brought together under the banner of freedom?” Charles asked, sipping his soda again in the same genteel way he had before.

Stephanie is right, but as for Charles . . . Is he being sarcastic? Darwin couldn’t help but question the man’s intentions as he studied him. Darwin felt like the NPCs were real, but did Charles share the sentiment? There was no way to be sure whether or not the man across the table from him simply viewed Darwin’s growing faction as the product of a crazy man tilting at windmills or as a worthwhile endeavor. Trying to figure it out was like trying to tell whether or not a deadpan comic was actually telling a joke or if he was simply stating a fact without realizing it was funny.

Are they even real . . .? He found himself suddenly torn on the topic. They were all programmed by other people or created by the AI, so to even think of them as real was like considering the images on your television as real. After interacting with them for even a short period of time, however, it was hard not to. Sitting at the table, outside Tiqpa, it was easy to dismiss the hundreds of game characters he had helped. They were NPCs; this was real life. But just a few minutes ago, coming off that battlefield, mourning the dead with his fellow faction mates, it was real. They were as real as any person he had ever met, and their grief wasn’t something to be discounted in the least.

“You know, it’s kind of funny,” Stephanie interrupted his troubled cogitations, drawing the attention of both gentlemen.

“Huh?”

“Well, your name is Charles, and his name is Darwin.” Stephanie cracked a big smile. “If it wasn’t unintentional, it wouldn’t be as amusing.”

Even Charles hinted at a smile for a moment before straightening out his face again. “Yes, it is amusing. Especially given the way he’s evolving right before our very eyes.”

“Evolving? I don’t know. The only change I can see is that he has gotten really horny lately.” Stephanie laughed as she reached out a hand and flicked one of Darwin’s horns. “Though I’m not sure they help with the reproductive success of our species.”

Darwin flinched as the vibration traveled through his head. “Wait . . . They’re still here in the real world?” He asked more for an explanation of why, rather than an actual confirmation of what was plainly obvious.

“Why wouldn’t they be? Your original body was the one that gained them--not a game avatar.” Stephanie giggled as if this were some common sense piece of information that even a two-year-old would know. “You actually, physically, went in and out of Tiqpa. Most, if not all, of the changes that took place there are going to carry over into the real world.”

“Even the--” Darwin was about to ask more about the portal situation, when a question sprang back into his head--one he hadn’t been able to shake off. “You knew I was going to go insane for a long time. How?”

Stephanie’s tone, despite all her usual amusement and pep, flattened out like that of a boring professor at the end of a lecture. “Because all demon men do. A few of us women too, but every man does for sure. It’s inevitable.”

“Huh?” Darwin needed more of an explanation than that. It was like she was explaining that the sky was blue because everyone saw it as blue. It didn’t tell him anything.

“Darwin, do you know why we’re called demons?” Stephanie probed, obviously knowing that he didn’t.

“Because we have red eyes and horns?” He poked the bones protruding from his head. “Kind of seems like an appropriate term, actually. The only thing that could make us more demonic would be is if we were given accountant visors,” he said, trying to make light of the situation as the tense atmosphere started to feel like it was closing in around him.

It worked. Stephanie smiled, but then she went further. “Hmm. That is one way to look at it, but you’re one of the first to have horns in centuries--and the truth is a little more gruesome. You see, our father, or rather our creator, was once hailed and praised as if he were a god in our world--a world that already had religions almost identical to the ones this one does. We even had similar concepts of good and evil supernatural beings, which is how the naming ended up being so convenient. But, as those religions faded, he ended up being a god to the people there in his own right. After all, thousands of years before you were born, he had already achieved something incredible. He created the perfect human: a being who didn’t age, get sick, grow fat or suffer from any health problems. It didn’t matter what this new man ate or what he did or didn’t do. He would always have the perfect body, sculpted like a Greek deity. Our father’s creations, modeled and perfected from the DNA of normal humans, were also almost infinitely kind and patient with humanity. It caused people to jokingly call them ‘angels’ as they stood above man in every way. Of course, there was still a hitch. You have watched B-movies from the science fiction genre, right?”

“Yes . . .” Darwin already knew exactly where this was going. It wasn’t hard at all to guess what would happen next, but he still needed to hear the details. “But go on. Please do explain how this leads to me going insane.”

“Sure, sure,” she said, taking a deep breath.

Both he and Charles were listening intently to the story she was telling. He had a feeling from the way Charles didn’t react at all that this wasn’t the first time he had heard the story, but the man’s eyes still gleamed with curiosity. It was as if he were searching out the wording for any new pieces of information that he didn’t pick up on during the last however many telling’s.

“You see,” she continued, “the first two or three hundred years, these kind, immortal beings raised families, built homes and integrated themselves slowly into every community. They did everything they could to make the world better. But as time passed, one by one, they eventually returned to the country of their creator. Years passed, and the population of the country naturally shifted until it was comprised almost entirely of angels. Procedures were even done to gradually convert the children of normal human citizens of the country into angels.

“Then, after centuries passed, the people of other countries started to covet the angels’ wealth, prosperity, and immortality. Cursing them, people began to say that the angels’ charity was nothing more than misguided pity, and that, if they really wanted to make a difference, they should share everything. People said that if the creator could make himself and his children immortal, he should do the same for them too.

“When it finally reached the point of war, it was disastrous for the angels. They weren’t the type to commit violence at all. In fact, the idea of ending a human life was so offensive to them that the first angel to kill someone in combat ended up shooting himself later out of guilt. That’s when the creator used something in his technology to tweak the angels. He made them into killers. After the adjustments, every angel over thirty years old, which was an incredible number of them, became faster, stronger and better at warfare than any of the best-trained military personnel from the opposing countries. At first, these modifications resulted in the angels slaughtering their enemies . . . but then the war took a dark turn.

“What started out as small tweaks became big changes, and the men who had gone to battle, who had tasted blood for the first time . . . they became cursed. They started to kill each other after the battlefield was cleared of enemies, and what began as a one-sided slaughter of humans, slowly turned into crazed angels murdering anything and everything in sight. When a group of young male angels who hadn’t gone insane yet saw what was happening, they went to the creator to seek guidance and help. Unfortunately, he was already affected by the curse and ended up killing several of his own children before dying in a brutal fight himself. That’s when our title of angels was stripped. We had fallen from our heaven, cursed by humanity to suffer the carnage of war. Our people had gone from being peaceful, perfect beings to demons, and our god was damned as a devil by his own kind.”

“So . . .” Darwin began adding up pieces of the information. “We came from a different world?”

“It’s the easiest way to explain it, but yes. It became a world where we demons were almost non-existent. We did our best to hold on, but a lot of things were hard. The humans hunted us, year after year, wearing away at our dwindling numbers. Then, as if it wasn’t hard enough to keep our numbers up already, reproduction also became very hard. When our men hit thirty, the hunger would take over, and they would kill indiscriminately. They had to be exiled so that they wouldn’t butcher everyone in the tribe-like groups we were living in. It was like an unspoken race to have males father as many children as possible before that happened.

Sometimes, out of every few thousand men that were kicked out, one would turn into a special kind of crazy: He’d grow horns, his skin would strengthen over time to the point that bullet wounds would only slow him down, and he’d hunt us down like an animal hunts prey. He wouldn’t go after humans at all: he’d only come for us. Your father, Darwin . . . he almost killed half the neighboring tribe . . . or so we heard.”

“I’m a genetically-altered immortal that was modified to transform into a bloodthirsty murderer sometime after I turned thirty years old just so that I can take part in a war that my ancestors apparently lost horribly?” Darwin suddenly wished that his soda was actually something stronger--like a scotch and cola. On second thought, however, he decided he didn’t need the cola. He had never seriously drunk alcohol before, yet this somehow felt like the perfect time to try it out.

“That’s about the sum of it.” Stephanie nodded her agreement.

“But if the genetics were changed to make me into a killer, couldn’t they also be undone? Couldn’t the change be reverted?”

“Well . . . theoretically? Absolutely. The problem is that the one who first initiated the change is dead, and no one else knows how he did it. That’s exactly why I’ve been working with Charles for the past few decades: to develop a way to study your brain, figure out exactly what was changed and how we can save you.”

“Can one of these guys bring me a handle of bourbon?” Darwin asked, finally giving into the sudden allure of liquor.

“Won’t do you any good. We don’t get drunk. It’s kind of a health problem, and we don’t suffer from those, remember?” Stephanie laughed as Darwin’s face fell. Immortality without the ability to enjoy alcohol. Despite never having thought booze was necessary before, he somehow felt like this was a huge downside to the entire being immortal thing.

“So going back to one of the earlier topics of the conversation . . .” Darwin dragged out his pause. The mood had been a little too heavy for him to lift, so he felt the need to make a joking attempt at lightening it. “Stephanie, since you’re so old, do I have to call you grandmother?”

“Hey! You better not! You’re the old man, remember? Ignore the age. I’m a woman. It doesn’t count,” Stephanie immediately protested Darwin’s line of inquiry. “Darwin, I’ve been around longer than most people will ever live, and I’ve never met a nice demon guy . . . Well, not until now, anyway.” Stephanie took a moment to coquettishly wink at Darwin before continuing. “So while Charles and I can’t force you back into Tiqpa, I’d really like you to give it a try,” Stephanie pleaded, stretching out the word ‘really’ a few more counts than necessary. “After all, when you go insane up here, and we have to kill you, the death will be for real.”

“And if I lose it in the game, what’s to stop me from staying in that state? Would walking back through the portal help?” Darwin remembered the feeling of wanting to kill very clearly. It was like being forced to eat nothing but stale, leafy food for a year and then coming face-to-face with a juicy hamburger--except a hundred times stronger.

Charles smiled reassuringly. “Well, that’s also one of the beauties of the game. If you die while going berserk in the game, it won’t let you fully revive until the condition passes. Hopefully, even if you stay in Tiqpa permanently, that will just mean that we have more time to research and more data to draw from. During your first forty levels, we were able to isolate the condition and label it as ‘Hunger,’ a name of my choosing.” Charles was still in the middle of his explanation when Stephanie shot her hand up as if she were the brainy kid in class who couldn’t help but show off.

“Actually, I named the other skills! Every time we started to identify conditions related to our race and its natural development in the game, or came up with skills for your class, I got to name them! The boss was only insistent about Hunger since he said the name I picked was too vulgar,” she excitedly interrupted him.

“Yes, and it was,” Charles continued. “Anyway, we have isolated key parts of the neurological pattern, chemicals your brain seems to release when it goes into a rage, and we marked them so that the system we use to control Tiqpa will hold you until it fades. Regardless, you may still want to avoid being around non-respawnable NPCs or anyone you invited into your faction that isn’t a player. While the players will respawn without any problem, the NPCs won’t. Given your predilection towards saving them, I am recommending that you stick to player-only groups during battles and let the NPCs in your faction live out peaceful lives.” Charles looked over at one of the staff before finishing. “I am also highly recommending you keep this between us.”

“Is there any reason we can’t tell Kass and the others? Would it jeopardize something?” Darwin had to ask. The whole ‘let’s keep huge, important pieces of information a secret until a huge misunderstanding results in something awful’ trope was so aggravating to watch on television that he didn’t have much of a desire to live it out.

“Well, you can tell them about Hunger,” Charles answered, “but we’d rather the information not go public. I don’t see your guildmates Minx or Kitchens telling anyone, and if they’re going to fight next to you within sword's reach, it might be best for them to know. But Kass, well . . . Just recently, we had to stop a live interview on G.O.R.N. where she was talking on camera, and you were the subject.”

“She was doing an interview on me?” Darwin’s mouth hung open. What the-- Kass was doing an interview about me on national TV? What was she trying to tell them? There is no way she would tell them my secret . . . is there?

“If you don’t believe me, you can ask her in a minute. She’ll be here very soon.” Charles nodded his head towards the door at he finished speaking.

“I see.” Darwin waited for a moment, staring in the direction Charles had indicated.

“Darwin, I am not sure why you’re looking so intently at the door. It’s not going to make it open any sooner. Frogs don’t boil faster if you watch them,” Stephanie laughed.

“I think you mean water,” Charles corrected.

“Did I?” Stephanie just brushed off his correction. “Anyways, the choice is yours, but you don’t have to make it now if there is too much pressure. I mean, you and I discussed some plans earlier in the cave if I’m not mistaken. You owe me some donuts and TV in our underwear.”

Charles didn’t say anything at Stephanie's mention of scantily-clad couch-potatoing, but Darwin, still somewhat naive in regard to certain subjects, shifted uncomfortably in his chair again. “Well, since you all have worked so hard on Tiqpa for me” --Darwin had already decided that he didn’t want to sound ungrateful to people who had clearly spent a great amount of time and effort preparing a reality for him that didn’t involve him dying from insanity-- “then I’ll be taking you up on that offer. Just let me know what I need to do to make the experiment a success.”

Charles grinned, his pearly-white teeth flashing as Darwin conceded. “We can go over it all in the morning. For now, just enjoy the night. Stephanie has already set you two up with a room, unless you want to stay in Tiqpa or here instead. We can provide any type of bed or accommodations you might need.”

“No, I think I’ll be fine in Stephanie’s room.” Darwin smiled as he reached out and grabbed Stephanie’s hand on top of the table. It wasn’t that he fully trusted her--there had been a lot that she hadn’t told him--but none of it sounded like she had hidden anything for the sake of harming him, and he needed to trust her because right now his world was about to spin right off its axis. He might be free from the fear of being stuck in a game for all eternity, but he still wasn’t home, sitting in front of his computer eating ramen. He knew that place was long gone and lost to him. “I’m sure she’s got some fun games too.”

“Yes, she is really into them. One time, she made an entire board of directors wait and watch for an hour while she played some weird game about stacking differently-shaped boxes.” Charles chuckled at the memory. “I don’t think anyone in that room had ever taken five minutes off work to even play a game, much less been forced to watch someone else play. Most of them spent the entire time staring awkwardly at the floor.”

Darwin laughed at the thought of Stephanie playing games in front of a bunch of rich, pompous businessmen who were forced to watch her.

“Psh. It’s not like they were going to do anything worthwhile in that meeting anyway. I swear, the only reason to even show up to those stuffy ordeals is to see all the frustrated faces when you catch those pretentious people playing on their phones and then watch them try to play it off like it’s no big deal. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ they’ll say. ‘So sorry I got caught’ is what they mean though,” Stephanie giggled.

“I’ve always wanted to know, what’s with the cookies and tea in those meetings? Were they originally supposed to just be tea time get-togethers to take a break from work, and some jerk tried to make them into something more?”

“You’re supposed to serve tea and cookies during business meetings?” Charles reached up and rubbed his chin contemplatively.

“Haven’t you ever seen that gag in a movie?” Darwin looked confused.

“No, but I have seriously erred in life. I waited through an entire meeting the other day at Tiqpa’s main headquarters without a single chocolate chip cookie.” Charles frowned at idea of the missed opportunity.

“Hey, if you’re going to start eating cookies at the meetings, you should schedule them around lunch and then not let anyone else bring their food or eat beforehand. Promise a meal afterwards or something, and then just eat the cookies right in front of them while you drag the meeting on for a couple of hours. Yeah, this is brilliant, Darwin. Good job!” Stephanie held up her hand, inviting Darwin for a high five, which he took.

“You really like to torture the businessmen, don’t you?” Charles chuckled too.

“It’s not just them. I like the idea of tormenting a lot of humans.” Stephanie’s flat-tipped pearly whites seemed like a set of fangs as she smiled. “It’s nice to watch them squirm.”

“Only humans?” Charles raised an eyebrow.

“Well, now that Darwin is around, maybe I’ll be able to conduct a study and see if I enjoy tormenting demons just as much.” Stephanie’s wry smile curved across her face in a manner that sent a slight chill down Darwin’s spine.

Is she joking? He was curious, but decided he had best not think about it too much.

“Well, I don’t think there is anyone here at the table that needs U.S. diplomatic treatment tonight, so let’s just enjoy ourselves while we wait on our guest.” Charles’s mouth spread into a smile even as his eyes remained expressionless. “After all, I have a feeling this will be the last time I ever get to meet a brother-in-law.”

“Yeah. It doesn’t sound like, with my family history and all, I’ll have a lot of male siblings.” Darwin shrugged. He wanted to feel bad for his family members, especially all the guys who probably suffered gruesome fates before he came along, but it was like trying to get emotional over finding out one of your Internet forum friends had passed away. You never met most of them face-to-face, and even with the few you did, you still never really got to know them. The fact was that the relationships just didn’t really matter that much anyway. You’d already moved on by the time they died.

“True, but with Darwin being the only male left right now, let’s hope you end up with lots of nieces- and nephews-in-law,” Stephanie said, biting her lip and raising a suggestive eyebrow at Darwin.

“You’re not worried about the cheating that would require?” Charles had the most serious face possible as he asked this question, but as he attempted sipping more soda from a clearly empty can, he may as well have been questioning Stephanie while drinking from a twisty straw.

“Nah. I encourage him to sow his oats. The more demons running around, the better. He just needs to remember whom he has to come back to.” Stephanie’s brilliant smile flashed again, the impression of fangs still clearly there.

It was every anime-watching guy’s dream, the open-ended possibility of a real harem, but it just caused Darwin’s stomach to turn a loop. Even though it made sense--he needed to save his entire species from extinction, after all--he still wanted her to be the moderately jealous type for some reason. He wanted her to be upset at the idea that he might fancy another girl or two.

“Interesting.” Charles didn’t say anything more. His question hadn’t completely killed the conversation, but Stephanie’s answer did.

Kass:

Kass fidgeted uncomfortably as she waited in the elevator. She had thought that G.O.R.N. had managed to deliver a long elevator ride, but this one was ridiculous. She had been boxed in between the two oafish-looking black-suited gentlemen for what felt like five minutes already, and she still had no idea what was going on or why she was being handled in such a manner. Had she committed some crime or something? Was the invitation her dad had passed on from his boss just a polite formality, or was it actually a meeting that couldn’t be turned down? Was this connected to her interview with G.O.R.N.? No matter how many times she ran through the scenarios that could have led her to being forcibly escorted out of a job, she just couldn’t arrive at a clear answer. She was left with only a sinking feeling of dread.

Am I going to be locked away in some underground basement for potentially opening my mouth about Tiqpa flaws on television? What is with these basements anyway? First G.O.R.N., now Charles’s place? Did every rich guy decide to start competing for best elaborate subterranean office award? She gulped and smoothed her black dress for the umpteenth time since they had entered the elevator.

“You really should relax, miss,” one of the men commented as he watched her fidget. “There really isn’t anyone who means you harm. You should just think of this as a very insistent dinner invitation. It’s nothing coercive.”

Right, ‘cause kidnapping isn’t coercive. It’s just very insistent. Kass scowled. Wait, did he say dinner invitation? Wasn’t I offered food on the way over? Why would I be offered food on the way over if this is a dinner event? I’m not the main course in some serial killer’s kitchen, am I?

“Miss, you can take deep breaths if it helps.” The man continued offering his assistance. “Perhaps even count down from ten to one.”

“Does that really work for you?” Kass had to ask. It seemed more like something you would tell someone about to go under anesthesia.

“I have my own methods.”

“Methods.” The other man snickered. “Before his interview for this job, we caught him singing along and dancing to teen pop in the men’s bathroom. He didn’t check the stalls to see if they were occupied, and his soon-to-be supervisor was too embarrassed from the awkward meeting not to hire him. So, by ‘methods,’ he means that he sings like a girl with a fake microphone in front of a mirror while busting out dance moves that even boy bands would feel ashamed to do.”

“What? Really?” Kass found herself laughing. She felt bad about it for half a second when she saw how red the subject of the story’s face was, but she couldn’t help it. Just imagining a giant, muscular man singing like a girl in an office bathroom was too funny.

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it? I got the job, didn’t I?” He didn’t deny it at all.

Kass wanted to facepalm, but the white blazer she had chosen to go over her black dress just didn’t give her that sort of mobility with her arms. They seem pretty calm about the subject though. Although, this one guy looks like he is about to pop a vein like an amateur surgeon drinking during his first operation. He’s getting more emotional than the lead protagonist in a Jane Austen book.

Before the two men could go any further into the discussion, the elevator slowly came to a stop.

“Miss,” the guard who had poked fun at his comrade spoke in a very hushed voice, “please don’t tell Charles that we joked around. He has very strict rules regarding staff.”

“Umm . . .” She paused, wondering if she could extort something out of him with this information, but before she could come up with a good blackmail tactic, the elevator bell chimed and the door slowly opened.

“What the heck?” Kass gasped as she saw the room. It was massive--empty, but massive. It was so spacious that she was struck with the impression that she could fit every one of her favorite starships from all the space dramas she had watched in there at the same time. The length and width of the room extended for what felt like an eternity; yet, there in the middle, three people were clearly sitting around a small white table. She couldn’t make out what they were drinking or eating, and it was too far off for her to make out what the big thing was right next to them. It looked like a giant, black sheet or something.

As she and the two gentlemen walked towards the table, there were a lot of factors contributing to the self-consciousness that Kass felt. The greatest source of awkwardness, however, was the nearly-comical distance from the elevator’s door to the room’s center. The group at the table had stopped what they were doing, put down their drinks and dinnerware and turned to watch her walk across the empty expanse. She could feel them watching her as she took one echoing step after the other, and she couldn't help but wonder: Was the elevator ride as long as this walk? Why are they just staring at me? But even as she reflected upon her situation, it felt like no progress was being made toward the seated trio. This is ridiculous. This walk over there is-- Kass instantly lost her train of thought when she spotted something entirely familiar, but equally out of place--something that made this strange rendezvous infinitely more surreal: horns.

Long, curved spikes were sticking out of the head of one of the people sitting at the table. Darwin’s horns. She recognized them right away. That’s Darwin, and that’s . . . Is that Charles? She started to piece together who the two men were as she came close enough to make out their faces. Kass at least had a vague idea of why she was there too. It was definitely related to Darwin.

When she was finally close enough to the table for them to greet her, the man she suspected to be Charles stood up, followed by Darwin. The blonde girl, whom Kass didn’t recognize, just stared at her and started smacking her lips like she was chewing gum.

“Good evening, my name is Charles.” The blonde-haired businessman extended one of his hands as Kass walked around the table to the only remaining empty seat.

A butler behind her pulled the seat back, letting her know without a doubt that it was meant for her. Thanks, but was there any confusion as to who would be sitting there at this point? It’s not like you brought me this far just to have a guard sit down in my chair and make me watch him eat, right? Who would do that?

“I trust you already know our guests. This young gentleman is Darwin, and this lovely lady is Stephanie.”

Kass blinked. That’s Stephanie? She gulped. Why is she here? “Yes, I know them. Pleasure to meet you.” She did her best to fake manners. She was confused and unnerved, and just trying to control her emotions in the situation wasn’t easy.

“We’ve already met.” Stephanie continued to smack her lips, giving Kass an evil eye that made her feel like spiders were crawling up and down her spine. “And who could forget little miss tattle-tale.”

Tattle-tale? “I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kass looked at Darwin, who didn’t seem to be happy with her either. “Who did I tell on?”

“You don’t know? Psh. Don’t act innocent. I’m just happy the NSA isn’t as much of a bigmouth as you, or else we’d all be in a lot more trouble. But you know what? If they would just make an app, something that would automatically let me know when I scheduled an appointment by phone or whatnot, that would be great. Have a little pop up reminder like ‘Don’t forget that you told Frank you’d meet him at Joe’s around 4 pm. We have the recording!’” Stephanie smiled, but in a way that expressed a clear desire to bite Kass’s throat out.

“Uh . . . Yeah. I don’t--” Kass was about to protest yet again, but she was cut off before she could begin.

“Kass, stop,” Stephanie interrupted again. “Are you going to sit right across from me, look me in the eye and lie about being at G.O.R.N. just moments ago? Giving an interview where the StormGuard Alliance and Darwin were the main topics? Because, if you are, I-will-kill-you.” Her voice was peppy as she spoke, but she slowly enunciated every word as her head turned toward Kass in a twisted, doll-like fashion, never once losing its pristine grin.

“I was,” Kass finally admitted. She had a very strong notion that this was what Stephanie had been talking about from the beginning, but, now that she knew clearly and was certain that Stephanie knew too, there wasn’t any point in trying to dodge the accusations. Stephanie scared the hell out of Kass. It was the type of deep, chilling fear that one might get when turning the corner of a trail at a park and coming face to face with a bunch of bears, all of whom stopped and stared at you. “But” --she figured all she needed to do was explain-- “I told them I wouldn’t give any important details about Darwin. I never once mentioned Darwin’s condition where he . . .” she paused. Wait, wasn’t his condition—

“That he can’t leave the game?” Stephanie finished Kass’s sentence for her then turned to the man in question. “Your eyes aren’t mistaking you. Darwin, go on and say something. You’ve been mute this whole time. She was snitching on you like there were thirty pieces of silver that had her name on them. Surely you want to know why.”

“I do.” Darwin frowned. “I trusted you. Why would you go and blab to someone about me? What if they had wanted to do tests on me? What were you thinking?” His words were angry, but his voice was muted and somber like a man morosely recalling the past.

“I . . . I . . .” Kass was trying to find the words to defend herself, but she was coming up short. For some reason, Darwin’s empty, red eyes had pierced through her spirit and left her wordless and without a defense.

“That’s enough, you two. She didn’t understand the ramifications of what she was doing.” Charles held up his right hand, gesturing for Darwin and Kass to be silent. “She isn’t lying. She mentioned several times during her pre-interview that she wouldn’t discuss anything other than her particular involvement in the system. She had no idea that the tiny pieces of information she released could be so damaging.”

“Oh, so because it’s a--” Stephanie began to lay into Kass again, but didn’t make it far. Charles slammed his hand on the table, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“Stephanie, please. For my sake, don’t make this into something more than it is. You know exactly how we humans are. Full of errors, yes?” He gave her a stern look.

How we humans are? Is Stephanie not a human? Is she like Darwin? These people are demons . . . in real life? Questions started racing through Kass’s head as Charles had obviously stressed the word ‘human.’

“She’s never dealt with journalists before,” Charles continued, “so how was she supposed to know that even the slightest mention of a few details would lead to Darwin getting late night coverage more detailed and negative than a U.S. presidential candidate’s voice cracking while talking about an affair?”

“I’m . . .” Initially, Kass had been feeling very wronged when she got there. She had been the one who was getting mistreated. She had been the one who had been carried away in the middle of an interview, forced into a car and driven to an unnamed location against her will. She was the offended party--or so she had thought since the second she had been ‘politely’ asked to leave G.O.R.N. Things seemed a little different now. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t know,” she said mousily.

“There. Now, let’s move on.” Charles lifted the hand he had slammed on the table and picked up his empty soda as if that action somehow rendered the subject officially closed. “Anyway, I’m sorry about how we treated you, removing you from the broadcasting station, but you have to understand that you put us in quite the predicament. We’d rather the world know as little as possible about Darwin and his involvement with Tiqpa. Okay?”

“Okay.” Kass felt like she was five years old again and being scolded by her father.

“Great. Now, Alfred and Alfred, go fetch us all some drinks. I think everyone is either out or hasn’t been served to begin with.” Charles waved his hand and two butlers appeared with fresh drinks.

“You have two butlers named Alfred?” Kass, despite the tension of the situation, couldn’t entirely avoid giggling a little, finding the whole thing a bit silly.

“Of course. Have you ever met a rich guy who took the time to clear away a giant underground lair and didn’t have at least one butler named Alfred?” Darwin piped up with a laugh from the other side of the table before momentarily straightening in his seat and looking over at Charles. “Wait, you’re not going to name me after a flamboyantly red-breasted bird, are you?”

“No, no. I went through ten orphans before I gave up on that gag,” Charles mused, the other three outright cracking up. “Apparently, orphans don’t always make good parkour students.”

“Ah, right.” Stephanie grinned. “Do you get Eve to wear leather outfits when she tries to sneak into the house at night and steal your goodies?”

Charles cocked an eye. “I tried to get Eve to wear leather outfits for everything. She’s always in a cocktail dress like she’s about to play the lead heroine of a spy thriller.”

“Yeah, but the poor kid is terrible at the whole spy thing. She gives away the plot before her part even comes on screen. It’s like she’s trying to play poker with a lie detector strapped to her.” Stephanie leaned back and chugged an entire soda right in front of Kass. She then crushed the empty can on her head. It was a move that would have been right at home for a frat guy who had drunk one too many next to pool table, but it just didn’t suit the petite blonde.

“Really? Sis isn’t that bad at deception, is she?” Darwin’s face was full of curiosity.

That’s right, Kass thought. He never knew his sister. All of that happened before he ever even found out that there were others like him. She kept watching him, his face lighting up as Stephanie and Charles both talked about his sister, but somewhere in the middle of their conversation, something started to dawn on her. She had been vaguely aware of it from the start, but the significance of what she was looking at hadn’t exactly hit her right away. For the past day or two, she had been staring at Darwin’s face set underneath those sinister horns. Hours of seeing him with the fearsome protrusions had conditioned her to think they were normal.

But this wasn’t Tiqpa. She hadn’t used her dive device to enter a fantasy world this time. Everything was real now, and she was staring at a giant man with demonic horns in real life. Darwin’s characteristic red eyes were almost ignorable in Tiqpa, a world where the magical was expected, but here they were frightening and inexplicable. Here, every miniscule imperfection on his horns wasn’t an impressive feat of graphic design, but a terrifying fact that sent chills up and down her spine. She tried to wrap her head around what she was looking at, and it became a little more than she could handle. She had been absconded from an interview and driven into the middle of nowhere, but she could handle all of that. She could process all of that. In a way, it kind of made sense. It wasn’t right--she should be angry, not joking around with these people--but it at least was within the realms of reality. Yet, here and now, there was something she just couldn’t comprehend. From the piercing red eyes that seemed to eat her soul to the gigantic horns, it all wasn’t right. This just . . . This just can’t be real . . .

“Kass? Kass, are you okay?” She heard a voice as her vision faded to black, and she felt herself faint from the pressure of everything. Subconsciously, part of her knew, without a doubt, that she wasn’t in Tiqpa anymore. After all, there wasn’t a friendly little ‘you’ve passed out’ message box.

Ashish:

Ashish dusted off the soles of his feet as he walked into the bar. “Is this the place?” he asked the giant, earth-colored Jotunn next to him. “We didn’t make this trek all the way to furry land for nothing, did we?”

“Relax, little one.” The Jotunn, who stood at least eight feet tall, laughed. “We were close by to begin with since you insisted on us going south for a dungeon. It’s not like it was much of a detour.”

“Alright, well, where is she then?” Ashish scanned the establishment he and his towering companion had just entered. It seemed to be a sort of tavern. Whereas everything else in the vicinity had been rather floridly ornate, this particular bar was not. It was as plain as could be: wood, brown and unfinished, flanked them on all sides. The walls were made of it, the four-peg stools lining the bar were made of it, and even the chairs and tables were made of it. The only thing that wasn’t the same drab color were the people and the lanterns. This place could really use an interior decorator. Millions put into VR design, and the best they can come up with is this for a tavern? Ashish grumbled to himself as he looked around, his eyes darting from patron to patron.

Everyone in here is a darn furry. What is wrong with this place? Ashish continued to complain to himself. When the game had come out, he had immediately skipped over the plain, animal-like races. There were so many options, but he felt like most of them were just silly. How could someone pick a simple human or an animal hybrid when other races had so much more to offer? Like the White-Wings, for example, some races granted the ability to fly. What was more exciting than that? It was a dream many men had held onto their entire lives made as real as morning dew the instant you entered the game. There were also the Fire-, Earth-, and Ice-Walkers turning everyone’s favorite cartoon dreams into a reality as they could grasp and bend the very elements to their will. So why, with all of these options available, did people insist on picking furries? Was being a cute panda, kitten or dog really worth giving up the fantastical powers that the other races had to offer?

“This place gives me the creeps,” the Jotunn said, taking a large sniff. “My eyes see the pets, but my nose doesn’t smell the usual aroma that goes with a house full of them.”

“That’s what bothers you about this?” Ashish laughed. His second-in-command had always found the strangest things unsettling. Ashish would grumble about the uneven terrain upsetting their guild’s formations, or the flyers always hovering just out of their spells’ range, but not Linzmeier. No, he was the type to get frustrated with the appearance of wolves in an area that didn’t have deer or other large game, and he had been known to complain that the architecture in Jotunnheim was bothersome since none of the NPCs had the toolset to produce it.

“Of course. If something doesn’t add up, that’s exactly when you should be unsettled,” the Jotunn said in a matter-of-fact way. “If things don’t add up, it’s because someone somewhere is messing with you. How could that not bother you?”

“Why would anyone be messing with me? We’re just here to get a mission,” Ashish replied, brushing off Linzmeier’s concern. “There is no-one in here trying to trick us or anything. There’s just a bunch of NPCs, one of whom has the holy grail of quests.”

“Holy only because no one has completed it yet.” The dour vibes radiating from Linzmeier’s gigantic frown permeated the atmosphere, infectiously making even Ashish momentarily doubt himself. “This whole thing bothers me. Something is wrong.”

“You worry too much. It’s not that complicated. There is just a random NPC tucked away inside this bar that only talks to guild leaders and gives out a hidden quest that you can’t share.” Ashish realized exactly how odd it sounded as the words stumbled out of his mouth. “Okay, so maybe something is a little off, but don’t you want to be the first group to actually complete the quest?”

“Four mutts, no smell. Two cats, no smell. Something isn’t right here. That’s all I’m saying. Even the way they move, talk and act isn’t right. It’s like this whole place isn’t real,” Linzmeier said, maintaining his doubts. Ashish had tried many times to convince his big friend to just go along with things, but, until everything ‘added up,’ Linzmeier’s attitude wouldn’t ever budge. He’d follow the guild even if he disagreed with a course of action, but he wouldn’t be happy about it.

“It very well might not be real. This is a game, after all. Maybe the reason this quest is so hard to find and isn’t shareable is simply because the developers tried to write it out of the game,” Ashish offered. He knew that the best Easter eggs were often the pieces of dust a game designer forgot to sweep back under the rug before launch. “But either way, Xeal and Waseem both said that this place had a quest with the best reward a player could ask for, and so far, everything has matched up with what they told us about the place.”

“Maybe.” Linzmeier’s frown faded, barely, but his eyes showed that his uneasiness remained. “Let’s just get this quest and get it over with.”

“Is that really the attitude that two young adventurers should have when faced with the challenge of a lifetime?” A sultry voice crept inside Ashish’s right ear at the same time a hand slid across his left shoulder. “Don’t tell me you would think of a chance at the panda’s throne as nothing more than something to ‘get over with.’”

The two men turned to face the woman who had snuck between them, and a shiver creeped up and down Ashish’s spine. When did she get here? Where did she come from? He cursed as his eyes darted around, trying to figure out where she had come from and how she could have gotten the drop on them. Linzmeier’s sense of things had turned out to be more accurate than Ashish had thought. Everyone in the bar was gone. Only the building, a hollow shell of what it had been before, remained. Was it all even here to begin with? he wondered, now even more on edge.

“Easy there, handsome.” The dark-haired, red-eyed woman’s voice enthralled Ashish with its demure melodiousness like no music ever could. “You came here to find me, so I just thought I’d make it easy for you,” she said, letting a red-lipped smile creep across her pale face ever so slowly.

“Boss, let’s get the quest and leave.” Linzmeier knocked Ashish on the shoulder, jolting him back to reality.

“Of course, you’re in charge. Why wouldn’t you be? You’re destined to greatness, born to rule men. It’s as plain as day to see.” The words lured Ashish back into a dream world, reality and logic quickly behind him again. “Now, have you come to save me from my problems, kill the evil demon and prove yourself worthy of the crown?” She smiled, producing the fabled crown of Robin the Panda King from behind her back and proffering it to Ashish.

“Of course.” Ashish nodded as he stared into her beautiful red eyes. “Of course I’ll save you.”

“Ashish, snap out of it. Get the quest, and let’s leave. I don’t like the effect this lady seems to have on you.” Linzmeier nudged his leader again, but, this time, it produced no response. Ashish was already lost to the siren’s melodies.

“If you wish to leave, by all means, feel free. However, if you wish to finish the quest, you will need this.” She handed Ashish a scroll. “When you get out of here, open up the scroll, but be careful whom you share its contents with. Inside is the location for the secret portal that must be destroyed at all costs. If you are the first to destroy that unholy gateway, then I will grant you this crown, and you will have the right to claim the Panda King’s glorious throne. Yet, beware! The fiend who guards it is no easy man to kill. He has covered the earth with the blood of thousands who came before you.”

Ashish looked at the scroll. So this is the map of the unbeatable dungeon Lawlheima. “Alright.” He rolled the parchment back up and gripped it firmly. “Let’s get out of here.” With that, he turned and strode off in the direction the pair had come from, his Jotunn comrade lumbering alongside him, obviously relieved.

“About time.” Linzmeier didn’t stop looking at Ashish. “What did she do to you?”

“I . . .” Ashish tried to recall. He knew there had been a feeling, an enchanting charm that had spread over him moments ago, but no clear memory of it remained now. All he could recall was meeting someone who gave him the key to a kingdom, the only condition being that he had to turn it himself. “I don’t know, but I do know that if we take over that throne, our name will go down in gaming history.”

“Easier said than done.” Linzmeier took the scroll from Ashish and opened it up in much the same fashion someone disarming a bomb might. After nothing happened, a mild look of shock crept up his face.

“What? Were you thinking it might kill you?” Ashish laughed at his Jotunn friend.

“Not exactly, but, hmm . . .” He studied the paper for a moment. “What is this?”

Ashish looked over at the scroll. On the bottom it had a countdown timer with two sentences above it: ‘The battle begins. Will you be ready?’ Ashish then glanced up at his companion with a slight grin and said, “It might not have been a bomb, but it does have the usual ticking clock.”

“Perhaps the numbers will stop at three.” Linzmeier joked, but something about the whole situation still didn’t sit right with him. They didn’t sit to well with Ashish either. Why is there a countdown timer? If it is first-come, first serve and has such a great reward, then why hasn’t anyone completed it yet? For once, Ashish, the fearless guild leader, joined his buddy in wishing things added up.

“Let’s just get back to the guild. We’ve got organizing to do. We can’t let anyone else take this victory from us.” Ashish sighed, no longer in as good a mood as when he had arrived.

Chapter 2 – Don’t Eat Yellow Snow

Darwin:

“Does this look at all like a dungeon to you?” Darwin asked his friends as the group stumbled across a hole in the wall.

Normally, when they were going out to conquer dungeons, they knew exactly where they were going before they even started. It was always a mad rush to reach the dungeon as quickly as possible. This time, however, was a bit different. Everyone in the group was still drunk off the joy, excitement, money and levels that had come with overthrowing the Panda King’s oppressive rule. Since the freshly-dead tyrant’s army had been mostly made up of NPCs around their level, the EXP Darwin’s faction had gotten was phenomenal. It was enough to make even the most hardcore grinder jealous and keep everyone in the StormGuard Alliance ahead of the curve. The boost made them feel as if they had spent several days gaining experience after the battle without stopping, not just enjoying the festivities in the game and going to sleep for the night. That being the case, they were just meandering along and leisurely killing everything in their path.

“Yeah, it definitely seems to be one. I can’t tell for sure, but I think these guys will probably be around Level 60. We’re almost there. Seem about right for you guys?” Daniel asked as he crept closer to the entrance. Like Darwin, he was completely failing to address the anomaly that was the hole in the wall standing before them.

The entry, like it was with most dungeons, was neatly cut into the side of a mountain, and as it was with some of the other dungeons they had previously encountered before, it seemed rather out of place and matched neither the weather or the terrain around it at all. Just over the mountain to the south, they had been happily plodding through their new volcano lair. No more than fifty feet away from where they now stood, they had been doing battle with lava elementals and rogue fire bugs. Yet here before them was a giant wooden door with green leaves sprawling up and down the sides of it, a tiny peek hole and snow--lots and lots of snow--covering the area around it as if it were a new type of fake, roll-out grass that the cave owner had insisted on buying after several failed attempts to naturally cultivate it.

“How can you be sure that it’s around Level 60?” Kitchens asked, looking at the white stuff littering the entranceway with a strange expression that made Darwin wonder if he were allergic to it.

“Ah, I cheated.” Daniel grinned. “I checked the forums ahead of time. One of the regular information specialists, Nir, had a posting about this area. Said a few people tried to tackle it around the time we were having our big ‘defend the town’ battle, but it was around Level 60, and they weren’t even well into their 50s yet. They didn’t make it very far, but they did take good notes on the first set of monsters they encountered before they turned tail and ran.”

“That’s two good pieces of good information.” Kitchens scratched his chin as he pondered for a minute. “We know the level range, and we know that it’s not hard to get away if we can’t handle it.”

The others looked at him. The idea of fleeing hadn’t ever actually crossed any of their minds, but now that he mentioned it wouldn’t be hard, they somehow found it to be a comforting notion. Nonetheless, it felt downright odd for someone like Kitchens to immediately consider the option of retreating when he had always embraced death in the game as ‘something that just happened.’

“Well, what do you think, boss?” Mclean asked, everyone turning to face Darwin this time.

“We really shouldn’t give this dungeon the cold shoulder,” he punned poorly. Despite the fact that no-one laughed, he couldn’t help but smile and follow it up with an even worse attempt at wordplay. “Come on, guys. Don’t leave my joke out in the cold.” Still, nothing but the distant chirping of lava-bugs followed his remarks. “You guys will warm up to puns one day.”

“Okay, let’s stop the old man with the dad jokes before we hear any ‘call me a doctor’ jokes,” Daniel said, shaking his head.

Darwin sighed. “Let’s just do this.”

“You sure you don’t know when Kass is going to be on?” Kitchens asked as they opened the door. “It’s kind of strange to see Valerie and Kass both missing at the same time.”

“Kass isn’t missing. She’s probably just asleep . . .” Darwin didn’t know how to breach that subject exactly. Do I tell them, ‘Oh, yeah, Kass . . . No, she came over to join me for dinner last night, took a few looks at my face and fainted from how horrendous I must appear? Or do I just keep pretending that she’s just an Internet-only friend?

Kass had not only fainted, but she had still not woken up even though it was well into the next morning. She hadn’t missed anything, however. As soon as she passed out, the dinner was wrapped up, and Darwin, unable to actually get to sleep even after entering the real world, ended up watching ‘just one more episode’ over and over again with Stephanie until light creaked through the bedroom windows. By that time, he figured it was about time to enter Tiqpa and start farming before Hunger got ahead of him. He had checked to see if Kass was awake and if she wanted to join them, but when he entered the room and tried to get her out of bed, all he was greeted with was a type of snoring that was somewhere between two sawmills competing against each other and a T-Rex trying to blow his nose even though the tissues wouldn’t reach. After several failed attempts to talk over the woman’s possessed slumber-speak, he finally gave up and left the room defeated. It was probably for the best. He doubted that the first thing she’d want to be greeted with would be the very thing that made her pass out in the first place.

“What about Valerie? Do you guys know where she is? Isn’t she always one of the first ones on in the mornings?”

“Yeah, boss, no idea. I sent her two messages through the in-game forum, telling her where we were going and what we were doing, but I haven’t seen her on all morning, and she didn’t mention anything yesterday about having plans. I’m actually really concerned about her.” Daniel sighed. His face looked like that of a father whose daughter had stayed out all night partying and forgot to call and check in.

“You geezers are too worried about nothing,” Minx said, rolling around in the snow. While the others debated about whether or not to enter the dungeon without their missing members, she had somehow managed to turn herself into a sort of Minx-filled snow burrito with Fuzzy Wuzzy’s help. The only thing not covered by rolled-up snow was her head as she stuck her tongue out at them. “Old men shouldn’t worry so much about young ladies.”

“Hey, I’m not that old!” Daniel protested, packing a ball of snow and tossing it at her undefended face.

“Hey! Dad! Stop him!” Minx tried to use the time-honored dance technique, the worm, to move her human-snow-burrito self away as Daniel hit her with another powdery projectile, but she didn’t make it very far.

“Hmmm. Did you make your bed this morning?” Kitchens asked as a third snowball hit his daughter, this one from Mclean.

“I . . . I’ll get to it! Just . . . Just help me!” she protested, clearly guilty of failing to do her chores.

“Hmm . . . And will you clean the bathroom too?”

“Ugh, no no. I’d rather suffer the balls of snow!” Minx protested with a frown, resigned to her fate.

Fuzzy Wuzzy, who had been watching this with a rather bemused look on his face, rolled up a giant snowball the size of Daniel, and tossed it at Minx too, leaving only a giant ball where her face had poked out of the snow roll.

“Mphh!!!” came a muffled sound from the Minx snowball.

“Should one of us like get her out?” Darwin asked as he stared at the snow-covered teen.

“You’re going to tell me she’s strong enough to stab through a Blue-Drake’s skull with one thrust, but can’t clear away a few pounds of snow?” Kitchens looked at the spot where his daughter lay. “She’s just being Minx.”

Darwin, not entirely sure what that meant, used his fiery blade to melt away the top layer of snow and free the frozen teenager.

“Ah! I can always count on Darwin to free the cute and pretty princess!” Minx cheered as her arms and head shot out through the remaining thin layer of snow.

“I thought it was you who rescued him in the last big boss fight?” Kitchens chuckled.

“Shhh, quiet quiet. Don’t you know? Men get embarrassed when you have to carry them across the threshold instead.” Minx stabbed Darwin’s ego as she reminded the whole group how she had been the one to catch and carry him to victory when he almost died during the fight with the dragon.

Daniel and Mclean, both of whom had been absent, exchanged odd glances. “You two tied the knot?” Mclean asked, misinterpreting the ‘carry through the threshold’ reference. “Strange, I didn’t expect you to rob the cradle, Darwin.”

Kitchens’ face went uncharacteristically red at the joke. “They did not,” he insisted firmly.

“Hey! Easy there, grandpa. A girl has to make her own choices.” Mclean threw another verbal dagger in Kitchens’ mood, all the while beaming a big, bright smile at him. “And there are worse options than Darwin, you know?”

“Alright, enough!” Darwin decided to end that conversation before he found a katana from Kitchens in his backside. “You two trying to get me killed?” he asked the two girls, both of whom now wore the most fake and innocent faces they could muster.

“Ooo, I love it when he gets mad. It’s so cute when he’s serious.” Mclean was having a field day at Darwin’s expense.

Kitchens exchanged a glance with Darwin, then gave him a wink letting Darwin know that any malicious intent was gone. “Darwin, I think you need to spank one of your guild members before she causes you to lose too much face. Can’t have a naughty angel embarrassing you.”

“Mmm . . . You think that would work? She looks like the type that might enjoy being disciplined too much,” he laughed.

The shameless comments left a puzzled Minx blushing a bit, but Mclean just laughed.

“We have to be a little careful going in here. Nir’s information says that the mobs are color-coded, so assigning targets should be pretty easy,” Daniel said, bringing the subject back to something entirely unsexy before the joking got too inappropriate.

“They are color-coded?” Darwin’s face contorted at the strange notion of such a kiddy game cliché in a game that tried to maintain realism. “Like most difficult to least difficult?”

“No, they are segregated by class and ability,” Daniel began to explain. “Apparently, the blue ones are the tanks and will try to get in your way and block you at every chance, the yellow ones are the healers, and the red ones do the most damage.”

“So we need to kill the yellow ones, then the red ones and then the blue ones--and in that order if possible?” Darwin understood the tactic that would be needed right away. Games, even ones like Tiqpa, were still often heavily centered around number exchanges, even if the numbers weren’t visible. If they couldn’t do more damage than the healers, the fight would go nowhere. It would be like trying to pay off credit card bills when the interest rate exceeded your income--there’d just be no point in trying. That was why it would help to kill the healers first. In theory, they should take more damage than tanks, and once they were dead, the entire fight would take a lot less time. Every second they were alive they would be undoing valuable damage that had already been dealt.

“Yep. When we get in there, we just need to take out those yellow guys first, and the rest should be smooth sailing,” Daniel said with a nod.

“Alright, that shouldn’t be hard if they’re only Level 60.” Darwin clapped Daniel on the back. “Let’s do it!”

“Wait, you don’t want to make snow angels first?” Daniel teased for a moment, flapping his wings once as an obvious taunt at Minx.

“No no! Kill kill!” she replied, brushing off the remaining snow and pulling out a pair of newly-acquired daggers. “Stabby stabby some yeti yeti!”

“I don’t think the bad guys will be yetis,” Kitchens said, patting her on the head as they walked up to the dungeon door and slowly opened it. “But they might be . . .”

“Snow cones with sprinkles on top!” Minx shouted enthusiastically as the door swung open, indeed revealing a set of mobs that could only be described as floating snow cones with sprinkles and cherries. As Daniel had mentioned in his briefing, the baddies were indeed different colors. There, in front of the intrepid band of warriors, stood an assortment of devilish desserts: three blue snow cones, two red and two yellow. There was also an ominous black snow cone lurking behind the colorful ones.

The mob design matched the theme of the dungeon, which seemed to be something of a winter wonderland. Each section of the dungeon was covered with snow flakes that circulated from the floor to the walls and back up to the roof, where they would fall and repeat the process. It was as if the dungeon was comprised of automated snow globes.

“Great.” Darwin facepalmed. Please tell me this was randomly generated from some weird AI function of search words thrown together and that someone didn’t actually design this dungeon. Darwin sighed. He just didn’t understand how they could go from fighting hideous insect monsters to snow cones with sprinkles in less than five minutes and after only walking through one door. This was too random.

“Okay, now, I know you said that the yellow ones were the healers, and that we needed to kill them first . . .” Mclean started, but Minx immediately finished her thought.

“Ewwwwww! I don’t want to touch the yellow snowmen! I know how they’re made!” She pointed her finger at her mouth and made a gagging sound as she complained.

“So you want to fight the blue and red ones first because you don’t want to touch the yellow ones?” Darwin laughed. This snow cones with sprinkles-on-top mob set was already becoming more problematic than he had first expected.

“Uhhh . . . What is the black one?” Minx asked instead of answering Darwin’s question.

“Daniel, did Nir have any information about that?” Darwin looked at the black snow cone. Even though it was the same size and shape as the other floating icy delights, this one gave off a weird vibe that left Darwin on edge, almost making him want to pull back from the attack altogether.

“No . . . which is rare. The guy has a guide on everything. It may just mean that the dungeon hasn’t been attempted more than once, and those that tried it gave a spotty report.”

“Or that a group of people bailed before they could finish the report,” Kitchens offered with a shrug. It wasn’t the most positive possible outcome, but it was still a very real possibility.

“Or it could be a ZombCone!” Minx added, gigglier than usual, even after her grossed out reaction. “Maybe that is their fallen friend, risen back as a delicious dark dessert to be eaten. Every time he kills another player, a new topping is added. Soon, he’ll be granted nuts and chocolate chips!”

Darwin was almost tempted to join in on her wild speculations, but instead decided to just get the dungeon going before any guessing about the blue or red snow cones’ origins came into play. “Alright, you know what, I’ll just kill the yellow snow cones with Mclean and Daniel. Minx, if you don’t want to help with them, how about you work with Kitchens and Fuzzy Wuzzy to keep those red and blue ones off us. Daniel, I know you’re going to be fighting with me, but try to watch the behavior of that black one. Let me know if anything funny starts to happen, or if you have a guess as to what role it has.”

“Wait, you’re going to make me put my hands into yellow snow cones?” Mclean gasped. She obviously wasn’t hot about the idea either.

“Hopefully it’ll just be your daggers,” Daniel chuckled.

“I’m just happy it’s not my job.” Kitchens patted Minx on the head. “Good job, Minx.”

Fuzzy Wuzzy growled his approval too.

“Okay, you two go pull them. We’ll sneak through and gank their healers.” Darwin gave out the orders, pulling out his giant, flaming zweihander. He expected the fight to start right away, but Kitchens held up his hand as if to pause and stopped everyone.

“Wait, what does ‘gank’ mean?” he asked, showing his age.

“You’re not too old to play, are you?” Mclean smirked at him. “It means gang shank, group kill, surprise stab. I don’t know. It’s something like that. It just means that Darwin, Daniel and I are all going to go attack the same target at once while all the others are focused on you three.”

“Ah, fair enough. Carry on then.” Kitchens pulled out his sword and began his samurai-stride towards the first enemy.

Darwin and his group of yellow-snow-cone-killers waited patiently as Minx, Kitchens and Fuzzy Wuzzy each went up and started attacking the enemy snow cones. At first, it looked like Kitchens was simply going to do his usual trick where he walked up and cut one of the enemies in half, but as his blade made contact with one of the snow cones, a giant hexagonal shield blocked his katana before it even got close to shaving any ice off his target. Two giant icicles appeared behind one of the red snow cones and flew at Kitchens, forcing him to step back and deflect them with his blade. Minx and Fuzzy Wuzzy ran into the same bad luck, except Fuzzy Wuzzy couldn’t dodge and ended up being impaled by one of the ice blades. Fortunately for Fuzzy Wuzzy, it didn’t seem to do much damage, but the roar he let out when it hit sounded pretty bad.

“Crap, I’m going to sub for Fuzzy Wuzzy,” Darwin decided after he saw the event. “Daniel, Mclean, you two go hit that healer. Fuzzy Wuzzy, retreat until they stop attacking you.” Darwin almost said, ‘until you lose aggro,’ but didn’t know if the bear could understand commands that were laid out in gamer speak. ‘Aggro’ was a common word among gamers, but he couldn’t be positive it was put into the game’s lexicon for recognizable phrases, and he still wasn’t sure what type of system gave Fuzzy Wuzzy intelligence or even how intelligent he was to begin with.

Darwin jumped between the black bear and a series of fresh icicles coming from the red snow cones just in time to block them before his pet took any more damage. Then, after having deflected the red snow cone’s attack, he swung at one of the blue cones to try and inflict some damage. Just like with Kitchens, however, his blade harmlessly clanked off a magical set of yellow hexagons that popped up and protected the blue enemy.

He swung a few more times, and he could tell that the shielding slowly started to grow fainter, losing color and opacity like a picture fading away on a television set. Unfortunately for Darwin, before he could batter the pesky hexagons from existence, they renewed, regaining all the luster they had lost under his barrage. What the hell? Never having run into a real party combo in Tiqpa, this healer shield was almost foreign to him. Most mobs--and players, for that matter--that he had encountered so far had only been focused on damage-dealing.

“Darwin, the yellow guys are spreading yellow stuff everywhere! I can’t do damage!” Minx complained on the other side of the battle field.

“Just a moment,” Daniel called to them as his and Mclean’s daggers dug into the healer cone over and over again like four straws all vying for position as they tried to get the last bit of liquid from the bottom of a movie theater slushy. “There!”

Sure enough, as soon as Daniel had signaled them, Darwin drove his burning blade right through his opponent, melting the creature into a mess of blue liquid. He still had trouble deflecting and dodging the red icicles, but without the yellow shield up protecting the blue tanks, they were able to finish the job easily enough. One by one, the three cones went down and the battle was almost over. Just as they finished off the others, the odd black snow cone condensed into a small black snowball that was tiny enough to fit in one’s hand with room left over for two or three more.

“What do you think we do with that?” Mclean asked, pointing at the floating black ball.

“I . . . I don’t know. It looks like an item. Why don’t I just put it in my inventory and figure it out later?” Darwin asked rhetorically as he stashed the item. They were gamers--of course they were going to take something that had the option to be looted.

“Hey, boss, I need to take your place in the next fight,” Daniel said to him.

“Do you not think you can damage them fast enough?” Darwin misunderstood Daniel’s motivations.

“Those yellow ones . . . Their shielding spell appears to be stronger than any of the player versions I’ve read about. We need them to turn into red-eyes. Our team has no healers at all right now,” Daniel reasoned. “What if we run into a boss that does damage we can’t avoid? A few of those yellow guys might help keep us all from dying instantly.”

“Well . . .” Darwin was about to answer with ‘You’re the boss,’ but he figured that might be in poor taste since, technically, that was still his own role. Sometimes, however, with the way Daniel came up with layouts and formations, battle strategies, group tactics and general logistics, it often felt like he was more in control of the planning than Darwin. “That does sound about right. You sure you don’t want to just steal a whole group and play chess while they level us up?”

Daniel raised a finger as if he had something to say, then lowered it. “I guess not. Maybe just the yellow guys.”

“Alright then, that should be easy enough. Let’s go get us some yellow snow cones.” Darwin laughed and began the walk towards the next group of mobs.

He hadn’t taken more than ten steps before he heard Kitchens behind him. “Minx, put that down. What are you eating?” Kitchens scolded his daughter.

“But red means cherry. It’s tasty!” Minx whimpered. “Even Fuzzy Wuzzy thinks so!”

Darwin turned around to see Minx holding a ball of red snow. She was still licking it and taking bites even after her dad chastised her.

“Come on, try it!” she said, holding out a handful of the enemy’s slushy, red remains.

“I’d rather not. It might be poisonous, and I don’t think any of us have an antidote type of potion,” the ever-vigilant Kitchens replied sternly, not at all swayed by his daughter.

“Darwin, you try then!” Minx produced another giant ball of the red snow that she had obviously saved for later and tossed it to Darwin.

Darwin looked at the red ball in his hands with suspicion. Half of him wanted to just agree with Kitchens and toss it back to her, but everyone was eyeing him like he was the first one in the group to test a rickety bridge. Minx wasn’t showing any signs of being affected yet, and while that did little to assure him that the snow cone wasn’t poisonous, it did make him feel intensely pressured to try it. They’re going to think I’m a chicken if I don’t, aren’t they? He sighed, stuck out his tongue and gave the red ball a lick. Holy crud! It’s cherry flavored!

“This is wonderful. You guys have to try it,” he said, breaking the giant ball he had been given by Minx into smaller bits and passing it around to everyone except Fuzzy Wuzzy. The bear was already working away at his own blue snowball, which Minx appeared to be in the process of taking away and trying to use as a hat for him.

“I didn’t realize dungeons in this game came with snacks,” Mclean said, biting into the red snowball. “But you are right, this is tasty.”

"Why wouldn't they come with edible delights?” Darwin laughed. “I’ve been using dungeons as a food source for the NPCs since the very first one.”

“Well, I mean, there is still one question regarding these snow cones. . .” Daniel greedily took another bite of his. “Do they have enough sugar to be served in an American restaurant? Will they make our guildmates grow wider more quickly than they grow stronger?”

“You’re worried about weight gain in a video game? If you don’t want to put on pixels, why didn’t you just alter your character’s appearance in the creation menu?” Mclean shook her head. “Aren’t girls supposed to be the ones worried about packing on the pounds?”

“Well, new day, new standards. Can’t be chubby cheeks and pull all of the mad ladies like me.” Daniel flexed once or twice in the most over-exaggerated manner he could.

“You have a girlfriend?” Darwin asked curiously.

“Um . . . No, but at least I have the body to get one!” Daniel flexed one more time.

“Yeah . . . that’s not how it works.” Mclean bopped Daniel on the back of his head. “Dufus.”

Now is as good a time as any. Darwin sighed, not wanting to actually broach this subject with the gang yet. “Actually, there is something I need to talk to you guys about.” Darwin took another bite of his own cherry-flavored treat. The dungeon hadn’t even really started yet, and the whole group, other than Kitchens, was quietly eating away at their dessert as if they were celebrating a hard-earned victory over the boss.

“Wait, you’re not gonna tell us you’re actually a fat forty-year-old with hygiene problems, are you? I mean, I did have my suspicions, especially with how much you like milk and cookies, but I wasn’t gonna say anything, boss.” Daniel’s joke caused both Minx and Mclean to cringe at the mental image.

“What? No. Heck no.” Darwin did his best to defend himself against the idea, but he knew the image would still be stuck in everyone’s minds for a good while once it had been put out there. “I was going to tell you . . . I kind of have a skill problem.”

“You mean how you don’t have any? Yeah, we all saw you practicing with Alex. You’re getting a lot better at it. Don’t worry, it’s okay to be really bad for a while after the beginning of a game. Most people only know how to swing a sword from watching some space opera or medieval fantasy where they just thrash around in a way that looks pretty for the camera.” Daniel continued to guess wrongly, most likely on purpose just to mess with Darwin.

Darwin sighed. “No, I mean one of my skills is causing me a lot of trouble,” he said, trying to finish this time before Daniel could volunteer something more embarrassing or insulting.

“A class skill?” Kitchens’ eyes opened wider. “Tell me more about it. I have been meaning to select one, but haven’t been able to decide.”

“You don’t have a class skill yet?” Mclean’s eyes practically popped out of her head as she asked him. “How in heaven’s name do you do so much damage without one?”

“I just use the same sword art I have been studying for the last twenty years. It seems to do fine on its own, so I haven’t felt the need to pick out a skill.” Kitchens just shrugged again as if everything he said were perfectly normal. He hadn’t been awesome because of his class but because of his twenty years of classes.

Fuzzy Wuzzy let out a roar of approval and pawed at Kitchens’ leg in the ursine equivalent of a pat on the back. He really can understand us. Darwin was still amazed at the bear’s ability to understand and interact with them.

“Anyway, the thing is, I need y’all’s help. My skill . . . It will cause me to lose my sanity. It’s hard to describe, but everything goes red, and it’s hard to control what I’m doing. When that happens --”

“You need us to restrain you again? Just like we did on the battlefield?” Mclean interrupted him before she began licking the remainder of her red snow cone off of her hands.

“Or kill me.” Darwin frowned defeatedly. He hadn’t died yet, but he knew that it was inevitable now. Until his condition was treated, simply restraining him might not work at some point. “Just stop me from hurting any of the NPCs or continuing the bloodbath. I’m worried that the longer it goes on, the harder it will be to come back to grips with reality.”

“It could be the other way.” Kitchens put on the oddest contemplative look, which made Darwin think he was trying to wink but with the entire right half of his face. “Sometimes, when you encounter a river of blood, you will find it’s easier to wade through it than turn around.”

That statement from anyone else would have been taken somewhat half-heartedly. It might even have been just brushed off as vague sententiousness spilled out from some random book written three centuries ago by someone who wanted to sound smart. But with Kitchens, knowing his past and seeing how calm he was about everything, it made Darwin shudder. Someone from a military background, who could have very well seen live combat, had just told him that he could continue wading through a river of blood until reaching the other side. It was slightly terrifying and extremely unnerving.

“Well, either way, I’m going to need help if the effects get out of control. Think you guys can handle it?”

“Easily. After all, you still haven’t finished those lessons with Alex.” Daniel grinned. He was in really high spirits today.

“Thanks, I guess.” Darwin wasn’t sure exactly how to take that. “So . . . on to the next set of mobs?”

“Sure. I need more of this red snow cone,” Daniel said with his mouth full from taking another bite.

“I’m going to try a different color next time,” Mclean said and smiled happily.

“Not the yellow one, right?” Darwin teased.

“No. You need to turn those into minions, remember?” Mclean took the air right out of his joke with a serious answer.

”Alright, let’s get going then,” Darwin said, leading the group on to the next fight.

They finally reached another group of enemies that was exactly the same as the first. This time, as suggested, Darwin was on yellow snow cone duty, and he had the help of Fuzzy Wuzzy, a member who hadn’t taken part in the last fight after he had been impaled with icicles.

Nothing felt different at all about the fight until one of the yellow snow cones was converted into one of Darwin’s red-eyed followers. The snow cone didn’t really have eyes to begin with, since it was literally just a floating of shaved ice that used spells to try and dodge and defend, and there was no way to noticeably differentiate it from the enemies. If Darwin’s team hadn’t been attacking the same creature, they may have accidently killed it without even realizing it was a resurrected cone. The second it came back to life as one of Darwin’s zombies, however, the entire battle changed. Whereas once Kitchens, Minx and Daniel had struggled to get through the giant yellow shields that prevented them from killing the blue snow cones, that same defensive spell was now shielding the trio from danger. Although the shields would only appear when they were struck, Darwin could still vaguely see the rough outlines of the hexagons and a small green bar in the middle. Is that the health meter for the shield? he wondered.

“Woah, neat,” Minx said as she stood still a minute and let the icicles coming at her bounce off the hexagons. “Kinda defeats the purpose of doing anything almost,” she said with a frown. “I can’t stop them from hitting the shield since its block radius is further than my arms. I’m like a bubble princess now!”

“But you can do damage, right?” Darwin asked as his own sword effortlessly passed through his newly formed shield and stabbed the remaining yellow snow cone. His sword had a much longer reach than her daggers, so the possibility of a barrier pushing the enemies out of his range wasn’t much of a concern.

“Yeah, it lets me stabby stab good times,” Minx said, “but the enemies shield stops the daggers, so now it feels like an easy-mode waiting game.”

“Not a fan of cheat codes?” Mclean asked as she helped Darwin push through the remaining yellow snow cone.

“Nuh uh. My dad says cheat codes are for people that are lower than politicians.” Minx, no longer restricted in her attacks, tore right through her opponent as if it were a piñata at a birthday party.

“You know, I have to admit: Minx’s complaint aside, this feels way more like an MMO than before since we actually have class roles now,” Daniel said. “It’s like we’re actually playing a game now and not just some random hackathon.”

Mclean laughed, picked up the black ball and tossed it to Darwin after the fight was over and then she just shrugged. “I’m still wondering who came up with the artwork and creatures for this place. I think someone must really enjoy drinking while at work and has a boss that’s just like ‘Meh, if that’s all you got, then that’s all you got.’”

Darwin’s group picked up two more yellow, healthful desserts to help them out, just for safe measure, and proceeded on their merry way, going about business as usual until they came to the typical tell-tale signs of a boss room. They had managed to bag what felt like a hundred black snow balls along the way, but they still had no idea what they were for.

The room that housed the bosses, three different ones, was designed differently than the rest of the dungeon. Rather than snow, the floors and walls were covered with thick, white ice. There was an entire matrix of giant, black, empty holes covering both the ground and the walls. Each hole was around two feet in diameter and was separated from the other circles by at least five feet.

There, standing gloriously in the center of the cavernous room, were the candy confection bosses. Keeping in line with the dungeon’s theme, the loot-droppers were a sort of snowman--if a snowman could ever be described as a unicorn. They each had a string of five snowballs for legs, two fat snowballs for the body, another string of tiny snowballs for tails and a few additional snowballs to support horse-like heads. They each had candy bits for the eyes, strings of purple and pink candy for manes and long carrots sticking out of their foreheads--just so that no one ever mistook them for normal horses. The three Snownicorns were each identical in almost every way except their color: one was red, one was blue and one was yellow.

The Snownicorns, which were using their front hooves to make snow cones of their color, turned to look at the group as soon as they came into view.

“Sunny, I told you not to leave the door open. Look at the bugs that got in,” the red one practically spat as he complained at the yellow one.

“And I told you that I closed it, Burny,” the yellow one protested, not even looking up from the snow cone he was working on. “How come you always blame me? Why don’t you ever point a hoof at Blizzy?”

“Cause Blizzy doesn’t do anything but work. Work, work, work. He makes way more than we do and never bothers going outside,” Burny, the red Snownicorn said, finally taking a break from his little project and looking up. “See, he hasn’t even noticed them! Blizzy! Blizzy, wake up! We have company! We need to teach them a lesson.”

The blue Snownicorn picked his head up, looked at the entrance and then immediately went back to his work. “I don’t wanna. You do it.”

“Blizzy, either help us out, or I’ll kill one of your little precious children myself after the fight,” Burny shouted.

Darwin looked over at his friends. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do here. “Should we . . . maybe take advantage of this?”

“Hold on! I’ve never seen this cut scene before!” Mclean hopped in front of them and extended a hand to block Darwin so he couldn’t charge.

Kitchens nodded. “This is new to me as well.”

“Alright. Fine. We’ll let them prepare for us and then fight them instead of catching them with their pants down,” Darwin grumbled. He didn’t like the idea of the enemy being more difficult than it should be.

Blizzy finally put down his snow cone craftwork and joined Burny and Sunny. The three Snownicorns laughed as they began shooting balls of ice at Darwin. Like other the orbs they had been creating, these colorful slush-sicles were extremely reminiscent of Kass’ favorite spell. Before the projectiles hit Darwin, however, they shattered across a newly-formed yellow shield as the four yellow snow-cones behind Darwin successfully protected him.

“Why are my children working for him?” Sunny looked puzzled. “They stole my bots! Burny! BURNY! THEY STOLE MY BOTS! How come they didn’t take yours? Why mine?!” The yellow Snownicorn stamped its little snow feet, and a giant burst of yellow snow sprayed up in a shower all over the place, but still didn’t break through the appropriated snow cones’ defensive spells. “This isn’t fair!” Sunny shouted again.

“Yellow first, guys! Kitchens, Minx, keep the other two off us. Let’s just run the same drill we did with the coneys!” Darwin shouted, the rest of the group rushing in to attack the yellow boss. Unfortunately, as soon as Darwin’s sword swung at Sunny, a giant, black, hexagonal shield deflected his blade. “I can’t hurt it. What about y’all?”

“Nada yada, boss boss!” Minx replied as her blades also bounced off a dark pane of the spell.

“No luck here either.” Kitchens frowned. “It seems we are at an impasse with them.”

Black shield, black snowballs, Darwin thought, looking around for more clues as to how they were supposed to handle the three Snownicorns. “Do you guys see anything?” With his yellow shield flashing, his teammates darting around next to him and two terrible excuses for a fight going on nearby, it was hard to make out what was going on.

“Are we really going to stop and have a chat in the middle of a fight? That just doesn’t seem right,” Darwin grumbled. It wasn’t that people didn’t talk during boss fights, but he knew from prior experience as a raid leader that conversation generally meant the group was slacking off and not doing what they should. Although this wasn’t the case here, the memories still irritated him.

“I think we could bake cookies and have tea, and it wouldn’t make much of a difference right now,” Daniel joked at the mutual helplessness of both sides in the battle.

Darwin kept hacking away, but the black shield didn’t dim at all. Unlike the others they had encountered, it didn’t slowly start to fade before resetting either. It just sat there unmoving, unyielding and unwavering in the face of every bit of violence he could muster. The bosses’ balls of ice weren’t damaging his group, but his zweihander wasn’t melting a single enemy snowflake either. He was about to give up hope when he finally noticed that one of the circles on the ceiling wasn’t black like the others: It was yellow. Quickly looking around, he managed to spot both a blue and a red one as well. As soon as he noticed them, however, they faded.

“Guys, did you see it?” he asked the others.

“The circles? Yeah. Pass me a snowball,” Daniel said, catching one as soon as Darwin tossed it. “Let’s give this a try.” Daniel wound up his arm like a baseball pitcher and threw the black snowball at the yellow circle that had reappeared, hitting it dead center just as it moved to a new location. As soon as the ball landed, the black shield around Sunny dropped and his bright, lemon-colored face shone with horror.

“Help!” he screamed as Darwin’s zweihander lopped off part of his flank. “He--!” he tried to scream again, but it was too late. He had been chopped up and melted by a flurry of attacks.

“Red next!” Darwin called, pulling out another black snowball and throwing it at a red circle. It missed. Really? I can nail a guy charging at me dead in the eyes with a spoon, but I can’t throw a snowball properly? He cursed himself, knowing the others were probably laughing at him on the inside for his failure.

“Let me get it. I used to play baseball,” Daniel volunteered. Darwin obliged him. He didn’t want to fail twice in a row and make a complete fool out of himself in front of his friends. “There!” Daniel called out as the black snowball made contact.

“This . . . This isn’t fair--” Burny tried to protest, but like Sunny, his life ended far too quickly under an onslaught of blades and furry claws.

Blizzy, seeing what was going on, just frowned. “I should have kept working. I could have finished another before I died,” he grumbled and sighed helplessly as Daniel pitched a ball right into the blue circle on the wall, dropping the last snow pony’s shield. Unlike the other two, Blizzy didn’t make a sound as he collapsed into a pile of slush.

“I think that’s the first prebuilt fight that actually had specific event triggers and a basic strategy,” Darwin noted as his eyes darted between the three ruined foes.

He had finally reached Level 60 during the battle, another milestone, and was eager to check out what he’d receive, but he figured distributing loot should probably come first. Most of his milestone level-ups tended to come with decisions that required a lot of thought, and making the whole group wait for his choice didn’t seem right, so he decided to put it off till later. “Alright, let’s divvy the spoils!” he said, going through the chilling scene and rifling through the corpses. It was a common practice in gamer etiquette for a party to let the group leader do all of the looting so that it could be divided fairly and evenly. While no-one was worried about that within the party, the tradition wasn’t about to die.

“What’d we get?” They all peered at Darwin as he looked at the three items.

“Well, we have a dagger that seems to be made of that red ice stuff. It’s called ‘Burny’s Ironic Blade.’ It seems to be made out of ice but has a property which causes it to burn enemies kinda like my sword. Who wants it?”

There were three dagger users in the group, Minx, Mclean and Daniel. Naturally, three hands shot up. After much discussion, Mclean ended up getting the dagger. “What’s next?” Daniel and Minx both looked in anticipation.

“Well, we have another dagger called Winter’s Ethic. It doesn’t do much damage, like almost none at all, but the damage doubles with every strike. Who wants it?”

Since Mclean had gotten the first item, she wasn’t in the conversation for the second one. It ended up going to Daniel, who seemed both very happy and very confused about the weapon. In terms of quick killing, it was worthless. In terms of fighting tough players or enemies with tons of health, it would be invaluable. It was a unique dagger he could only use in special circumstances.

“And the last item?” Kitchens asked, the remaining unlucky individuals still curious.

“Sunny’s Son, a yellow belt that stops one attack from successfully landing once every minute,” Darwin tossed it to Fuzzy Wuzzy. “I think he’s the one that needs it the most. Anyone disagree?”

Fuzzy Wuzzy looked at the item in bewilderment. Everyone just kind of nodded their approval as he put on the silly yellow belt that had an obnoxiously large buckle in the shape of a sun on the front.

“I don’t think I’d want to wear that anyway,” Kitchens laughed. “I haven’t seen a buckle that big since I last visited Texas.”

“Yeah, probably the case. Let’s just head back to Lawlheima and see if Valerie and Kass are back yet.”

Chapter 3 – Homewreckers and Party Guests

Kass:

Kass struggled to open her eyes, giving them a few good rubs as she came back into the real world. She had been having a crazy dream about angry butterflies attacking a group of revolting walnuts over who could sit closest to the fire. Wait, where am I? Bits and pieces of the night before started to flood into her mind. Her vision was still too blurry to see anything, and she hadn’t quite wiped away all the little eye boogers that generally accompanied mornings, but despite that, she could definitely tell she wasn’t at home. Her bed didn’t have sheets this nice, pillows this soft or air conditioning that was always on.

How long was I out? The next question hit her mind with an unusually strong sense of urgency. Dad is probably worried sick. She rubbed her eyes again. She was just now starting to get the blurry vision to go away, and she was able to make out more clearly what was around her. Her mind was already racing with more questions than a hungover frat boy’s after a good kegger: Does Dad even know where I am? Did he watch last night’s interview and see me get kidnapped? Did they even show that part? Her head spun as she tried to puzzle out the full nature of her situation.

Okay, let’s start with where I am. She forced all the other questions out of her head so she could handle them just one at a time. I’m in a bed now--a bed that has a-million-thread-count sheets--and last night, I was in a weird underground room having dinn-- The fog in Kass’s mind suddenly cleared as the memory dawned on her. Oh God, I fainted while having dinner with Darwin and Stephanie! That is so embarrassing. She facepalmed so hard it stung. She didn’t have to finish putting together any more clues. It was all clear. She had passed out at the table in Charles’s underground lair, and someone had probably carried her to a spare bedroom. After all, leaving a dinner guest to sleep in a plate of food wasn’t exactly the most hospitable thing to do. Oh God, this is worse than passing out drunk. At least you have an excuse for falling face first into dreamland when you’re drunk.

Ugh. I just need to make an entirely new set of friends, find a new guild and hope I don’t give them a reason like this to laugh at me. She struggled to think of a way to get past her moment of shame as she got up. Looking around, she knew without a doubt that she was still at Charles’s place. He and that G.O.R.N. guy were the only people Kass had seen pull off that ‘creepy white room from an old sci-fi movie’ feel: white sheets, white bed, white night stand and no windows. Am I still underground, or does he just hate sunlight like some sort of vampire? Wait, if Darwin is a demon . . . Could he actually be a vampire? Is that the real secret behind why all of these gaming companies are underground? That’s it . . . All the executives are vampires who accumulated their wealth over centuries and are now just making video games based on monsters that are real, monsters like Darwin, that people don’t know about . . . she hypothesized as she tried to navigate the room. The room was so uniformly white that she almost tripped over a chair near the door as she tried to find her way out of the room. This guy’s taste really is horrible. He needs to add a few colors, she critiqued as she finally opened the door to leave.

“Good morning, ma’am. You’re expected in kitchen number four.” One of the black-suited men straight out of a conspiracy movie was waiting for her as soon as the door opened. Kass noted that he didn’t even bother turning to look at her as he spoke. Instead, he maintained his stalwart position staring at the wall on the other side of the hallway.

“Kitchen number four? No chance you can show me where that is?” Kass did her best to adjust her clothes, suddenly self-conscious of her appearance. She had been to enough parties to know that there was little she could do to redeem an outfit she had slept in, but given she that hadn’t brought anything else with her to wear, this was the best she was going to be able to do.

“Of course, ma’am. Right this way.” His voice was a low monotone that was so steady and unchanging that it could have rivaled a tired school professor trying to give the same lecture after forty years. The man turned and began walking down the hallway as soon as he finished speaking without ever looking back.

“Umm, sooo . . . My name is Kass. What’s yours?” Kass did her best to make small talk as the bodyguard led her down one hallway after another in the maze-like complex that Kass could only assume to be Charles’s home. It didn’t feel like an office since most of the rooms she passed appeared to be empty. There was an occasionally humming sound that came from behind a few doors that sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite figure out why.

“I know,” the man responded, completely ignoring her question.

Kass frowned. “Don’t talk much, do you? Is your name classified, or is it just too embarrassing to mention?” She tried to break the awkwardness of her bizarre situation, but her guide just kept silently leading her down the hallway. Jerk. She almost mumbled it out loud, but just left the word lingering in her thoughts instead as she inspected the uniform walls on each side of her.

How far is it to just get to a kitchen? At this rate, I could have walked to the convenience store, bought a six pack and been halfway back to the house if I were still at home. I bet this is why Charles is still in such good shape at his age. He has to spend forever walking just to get around his own house. That must be the secret to how rich people always look younger: they spend so much time trekking around their own enormous homes.

After about ten minutes and a few flights of stairs, they finally stopped in front of a large set of double doors that came up on their left. “We’re here,” the man said, finally breaking his silence. He opened the door and then stood to the side of it as he had before.

She walked in to find a rather quaint-looking kitchen. Despite all the ultra-chic, sleek modern design that had gone into other rooms, this kitchen was so ordinary that it could have been in any one of the numerous houses that stretched up and down her neighborhood. The kitchen had cheap-looking laminate countertops, wood veneer cabinets and a fridge with the tell-tale water dispenser built into it that gave away the appliance’s age. It had two simple round tables, each of which was surrounded by chairs. One was large enough to fit seven or eight people, and the other was only large enough to fit four--if their plates weren’t too big. In fact, as her eyes passed over the room, she began to notice that nothing seemed to be new or modern. There wasn’t a single piece of connected technology like a smart stove or coffee maker. It was all old-fashioned. Charles was seated in an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair pulled up to the large table with his back to her.

“I thought my dad was the only one who still used the manual, turn-on, drip coffee machine,” Kass commented, expressing her surprise at the whole set up.

“Some people say that old dogs can’t be taught new tricks,” Charles said after sipping his drink for a minute. “But I suppose I’ll get around to upgrading the coffee maker if I ever get around to drinking the poison.”

“You don’t drink it, but you have a maker?” She found it odd that there was a fresh batch of coffee brewed, yet he claimed that didn’t even drink the stuff.

“Eve insisted on buying one. I never got around to getting rid of it, and my guests seem to keep using it. Feel free to pour yourself a cup.” He gestured to the pot after folding up the newspaper he had been reading and setting it down near him. “I hope you’re okay with omelets. I asked my cook to whip up an extra one when I was notified you had woken up.”

“Yes, sir, that sounds delicious.” Kass found herself speaking with the same overly-polite tone she had used the night before. It made her feel like one of a thousand anonymous interns meeting the CEO of a company for the first time. Then again, if her dad had his way, that might very well be the case when she talked to Charles in the future.

“When you finish pouring yourself that coffee, can you get a chocolate chip cookie out of the fridge for me? Perhaps fetch me a glass of milk too?” Charles asked, sipping his tea.

Before Kass could even think of making a smart aleck answer, she had already finished pouring her cup, fetched him the chocolate chip cookie and milk and had sat down. Something about the way he spoke moved people to action in a way that she would probably never be able to emulate. It was as if years of giving orders had imbued him with the expectation that others would simply do as he said and granted him the commanding aura to ensure it.

“There. Now, how are you this morning? I trust you slept well?” He sipped his drink again.

“I did, thank you. I’m very sorry about last night,” she apologized, still embarrassed about fainting. Then something clicked. Wait, he kidnapped me from a paying gig! “Why were you so forceful bringing me here?” she blurted out. Her humiliation immediately faded as she remembered the ire she had felt for being forced to go against her will.

“I think we’ve already gone over all the important details, don’t you?” He flashed a smile that sent a chill down her spine.

She didn’t know if he was saying ‘I believe I have adequately explained myself, and you should thoroughly understand the reasoning’ or a more threatening ‘You need to understand your place and stop asking questions.’ Either way, she didn’t feel like pressing it further. Quickly switching the subject, she jumped to the next logical question. “So, why am I still here? You could have had one of your drivers take me home last night after I . . . um . . . err . . . fainted.” It was so embarrassing that even just mentioning it again made her cringe.

“I could have, you’re right. So what do you suspect might be the reason you’re still here?”

His odd smile and tone of voice caused the nerves up and down her back to tingle in the most unpleasant way. “You have something you need me to do,” she frowned. This is not turning out to be a pleasant morning. She grumbled silently to herself as she sipped her coffee, not wanting to say something off-mark again.

“That’s right again. You’re quite the intuitive young woman.” Charles’s smile opened up a bit to reveal a hint of his teeth. “Which probably means you are on edge, aren’t you?” He guessed correctly, drawing out a slow nod from Kass. “You are probably wondering, ‘What could he want from me when he could just as easily hire someone to do anything he needs,’ aren’t you?” Kass nodded again. “So, not being able to figure out what I can’t just pay for, you’re getting more and more nervous and hoping I will just come right out and cut to the chase, aren’t you?”

Kass just sighed and nodded again, taking another large gulp of coffee. It was hot and burned her throat going down, but she had already managed to drink almost half the cup without even noticing. “Yes . . . Yes, I do want to know what you want from me,” she admitted, the suspense driving her crazy.

“I’m sure you know by now that Darwin, Stephanie and Eve are all demons,” Charles said, ignoring her question. “With Darwin, it was very easy to recognize. After all, his horns had already been formed by the time we first met. But Eve,” --he paused, his eyes glazing over with a look she hadn’t seen before-- “well, that’s an entirely different story. If I hadn’t watched her materialize through a blue portal, I never would have guessed just from looking at her that she was anything but an incredibly beautiful young woman. She didn’t even have a foreign accent when she first spoke to me, and she very well sound as if she could have been raised in the States her entire life. It was as if she had thrown in a pair of red contact lenses and then tricked me with a fancy illusion into believing she was something other than human.”

“So demons are like people?” Kass didn’t understand the point of this story. What does this have to do with me?

“Indeed. They are the spitting image of what might pass as a perfect person, but that’s not the point, Kass. You’re sharp. We’ve already established that. Surely my explanation leaves some doubt in your mind?” His grin returned.

“They spoke English . . . but they weren’t from here.” She put it together out loud, almost before the thoughts even had a chance to clearly form in her head.

“There you go.” His words were patronizing, but his tone was also congratulatory. “I must admit, I suspected that they were just from another part of our country when they first arrived, their accent perhaps blurred away by ages of television, but then they told me their story. It was a long and terrible tale of war and destruction where they fled a conflict zone in which their people were fighting against genocide in order to come here--and it didn’t fit. First, Eve told me one tale and then Stephanie told me another. They both seemed very close to the same mark, but neither seemed quite right, and something just didn’t make sense. I’ve never met a single person from another country, even in our time, that wasn’t plagued with some form of accent that deviated from native pronunciation.”

“So you didn’t believe them?” She still didn’t understand how this related to her. Is he trying to make me distrust Darwin too?

“The question isn’t whether or not I believe them . . . It’s if you do.” His lips curled upwards in an even more sly and devious expression than before. He was clearly amused by wherever he was leading her. “Would you be content with their stories, satisfied knowing the conflicting facts of them?”

“No.” Kass shrugged. “Why would I? Have you ever just asked them?”

“I thought about it.” Charles looked down at his cup of tea for a moment before continuing. “But what would there be to gain from that? Even if the worst of cheaters are caught in the act, their first words are generally, ‘It’s not what it looks like’ or ‘I can explain.’ So if we assume that they are liars, we can also assume that they will try to explain it away--thus defeating the point of the confrontation. If they are honest, and their story matches up, then all we’ve done is planted the seed of distrust, making them now suspect our intentions.”

“So you hope to avoid them not trusting you by spying on them?” Kass almost laughed out loud at how comically silly her assumption sounded.

“That is one way to look at it, but no. I don’t plan to spy on them, I just don’t plan on trusting them entirely either.” He pushed his now empty teacup to the side and folded his hands in front of him.

“But that’s just one detail, isn’t it? It doesn’t seem like you should distrust them so easily. Have they given you other reasons?” Kass queried, honestly confused. Last night, Stephanie and Darwin were joking around with Charles as if they were long-time friends. Now, however, he was obviously trying to infect her with his doubt.

“Kass, the people that are still in some far off world trying to exterminate their race . . . They are human. They are human, and they are every single reason I need to assume that Stephanie's intentions for you and I are ill. When an individual spends centuries running from a bloodthirsty pack of wolves that slaughtered their family, friends and species, would they look at them with anything other than hatred and resentment? Eve, the younger of the two, is different. She’s loving, kind, and worried about the greater good to a fault. She gives everyone a chance on an individual basis--but not Stephanie. Stephanie has never mingled or mixed with humans. She even uses me as a sort of proxy for all of her endeavors that might force her to talk to people unless she has the opportunity to mess with them in the process. I have good reason to believe that she ultimately means us harm, and I already know that she is more than capable of scheming.

“I remember watching Stephanie work once. She was putting together a piece of technology, something simple, but the way she laid it all out, the way she methodically assembled each and every piece . . . It was different. I’ve seen hundreds of techies work. They move like ants assembling building blocks one at a time, stacking detail after detail in an effort to build their pyramids. When Stephanie worked, however, it was very similar to watching a spider weave a web.” Charles paused, his eyes flickering for a moment. “It inspired an odd feeling of terror and awe, as if the world she saw and the possibilities she considered were infinitely more complex than you or I could ever understand; yet, for her, they were almost tangible. Even after we are caught in her web, she’ll still keep spinning us around for her own purposes. She won’t sink her fangs in until she is good and ready.”

Kass stared at Charles blankly. It wasn’t illogical, and that made it even more horrifying to think about. This woman, the woman that was with Darwin, was the type of person that could both scare and impress Charles, one of the top businessmen in the world. It was almost enough to petrify Kass, but she still had questions that needed answering. “If she’s so terrifying, why don’t you do something about it? Why don’t you have her followed? Why do you help her with her schemes?”

“Why do I help her with her schemes? Because, at the moment, our goals line up. She wants something out of me, and I want something out of her. I’m safe for the moment because I’m useful--but I will not mistake that as an indefinite pass. As for why I haven’t tried to have her followed before: I have. I made that mistake once, and a well-decorated, good man went to an early grave for trying.”

“She . . . She killed a man?” Kass gulped.

“Kass, she spent lifetimes in a war zone. She’s probably killed more men than you or I could count in a year. Do you think she cares if she adds one more body to the kill count? I pretended like I had nothing to do with the man, and she never let on that she suspected me, but I won’t take that risk twice.”

“So, going back to the original topic, what do you want from me?” Kass was now exponentially more nervous about her situation than when she first sat down. “Why am I here? Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m telling you this because your relationship with Darwin, and his relationship with Stephanie, puts you in a unique position. What I need you to do is to follow Darwin at all times, let me know if he slips up and lets out any details about Stephanie, or if she says anything in earshot of you. Anything. In exchange, I’ll take care of those money problems that seem to keep coming between you and your father so that you won’t need to appear on television again.” Charles leaned back in his seat a bit as if the conversation were near its end.

“So you just want me to stay close to Darwin and then snitch on Stephanie any chance I get?” Kass wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about this. “And in return I get paid?”

“Yes. The most important detail I need you to be listening for is anything related to my daughter. If Stephanie ever mentions her to Darwin, let me know immediately.”

“Wait . . . Your daughter? Is she a hostage? Is that why she isn’t around? Did Stephanie steal your daughter?”

“No, it’s not like that, but I am worried it is a very real possibility that Stephanie will try to take her from her current location.” Charles frowned again. “Anyway, do you think you can do this? I can guarantee you $10,000 a month, and all you will have to do is play video games with your current guild master.”

The money was probably an insignificantly small amount to Charles, but it made Kass’s eyes pop open instantly. The only hitch was that this was the second time she had been asked to divulge information about people close to her for money, and it was even more unsettling this time than it had been before. She didn’t like the idea of taking money to be a snitch, but on the other hand, what Charles had said seemed disconcerting. Stephanie’s background and the reality that she had somehow managed to scare someone even as powerful as Charles made her uncomfortable--both about snitching and letting Stephanie’s plans go on unhindered. “Can I have a moment think about it? Maybe call my dad first and let him know I’m okay?” she asked, still not sure what to do.

“Your dad knows that you are okay. I had Alfred notify him last night that you opted to skip out on the television interview and instead called me to discuss employment opportunities. He believes that the interview carried on much longer than either of us anticipated, and that you didn’t feel comfortable driving home. Alfred told him that we would have you call him first thing in the morning.” Charles’s eyes flashed with a smile, but his face stayed flat. “He’s not so much worried now as happy. I told him that you had the job if you chose to accept it and that you would fill him in on the details--like the salary--yourself.”

Kass frowned. Now it’s going to be even harder to say no. Charles had put her in a really uncomfortable spot. Before she had time to finish moping, however, the doors opened and the food came in. Well, at least I can do my worrying about whether or not I’ll die at the hands of a vindictive demon on a full stomach, she thought, staring at the delicious-looking omelet. Even the smell of it was mesmerizing.

Darwin:

“Minx, Mclean, will you two stop eating our new minions?!” Daniel fussed for the fifth time during the walk home as the two continued to lick the yellow snow cones to death. Before they had left the indoor-ski-resort of a dungeon, the group had made it a point to farm dozens of the yellow snow cones so that they could use them as protection bots for the Demon army stationed at Lawlheima. Hopefully, the yellow shields would have the ability to almost entirely eliminate any casualties that future conflicts might bring. Knowing Tiqpa, there was a good chance that one or two players would eventually stumble across Lawlheima in the future thinking it was still an ordinary dungeon.

“I don’t know . . . We can always go get more, right?” Darwin shrugged. He didn’t see how one or two would make a difference. After all, players generally only travelled in groups of five to ten people at most. Any more than that and the item splitting would leave too many people either unhappy or simply under-geared for dungeons their level. It was the same reason why most game designers didn’t add raid-sized dungeons until players reached the level-cap: They’d have to run it multiple times just to satisfy the gear demands of each player.

“You know, this game is missing its true potential,” Mclean said, taking another bite of her helpless victim’s sugary corpse.

“How so?”

“Think about it: All you can eat of the most delicious sugary treats in the world, but no weight gain. Feeling hungry because of your diet? Hop on, spend hours eating the most delicious and delectable edibles imaginable and then log off in time for bed. Sure, you’ll still go to bed hungry, but at least when you crave cherry-glazed chocolate cheesecake, you can eat it without any health repercussions.” Mclean took another bite. By now, her lips were covered in the snowy yellow stuff.

“That’s not a bad selling point. I bet that would pull in more gullible housewives than organic stickers on bananas,” Kitchens added.

“You shouldn’t get organic bananas?” Minx looked surprised. “But mom used to always get them and you never said a thing.”

“Well, that’s because the couch really isn’t comfortable, Minx.” Kitchens patted her on the head.

The others may have laughed at the spectacle, but Darwin frowned as he remembered how the topic of Minx’s mom had impacted Kitchens before. Even though Kitchens was smiling right along with everyone else, he figured it would be best to get the conversation quickly moving again and away from that topic before it dug into the man further. “Well, the game might be missing its calling, but to be honest, some of the tavern food can be worse than a cheap diner that ran out of butter. It’s not surprising that no-one in the advertising department thought about it.”

“I certainly never did before now,” Mclean said. “This is really the first time I’ve tried food for the sake of taste since I got here. I mean, I had some of the meat at the party after the big fight, but it was more to join in the celebration with the NPCs than it was to actually try out the delicacies.” Mclean had an odd, almost contemplative look on her face that Darwin didn’t recognize.

“Yeah, eating delicious stuff in the game is good and all, but I still don’t understand why you didn’t just take some of the red and blue ones to eat on the way home. Why are you eating the ones we need?” Daniel’s complaint picked right back up where he had left off.

“Oh, I have plenty of those. These just taste better.” Mclean beamed happily in a way that made Darwin think Minx was rubbing off on her. Is Minx’s silly personality contagious to the point that even the gruff ‘kill first ask questions later’ Mclean could be infected?

“So you are saving the best for last?” Daniel asked.

Darwin remembered the reasoning he had used as a kid when picking out the order of awful stuff at a school cafeteria to eat. After all, no one wanted those gross, pickle-infested hamburgers to be the only taste in your mouth for four hours until you got home to a toothbrush.

“Nah, I’m saving them for Alex and the group. We should have just enough for everyone to get one.” Mclean showed a surprising amount of generosity, and it made everyone’s mouth hang a little open from shock. Even Daniel, who had been complaining about her eating the yellow ones earlier, had no complaints after that reason came to light.

“I bet they’ll love it!” Minx blurted out. “Alex the ninja general will probably steal and eat his before anyone even sees him!” She loved the idea, and, given that she was actually eating a yellow one too, it was clear she had been in on the plan from the start.

Darwin had to admit that he was impressed. He had been second guessing what his teammates thought of NPCs for a while, but they had gone and done this thoughtful act of kindness without anyone even noticing. It was kind of touching.

“And I’ll bet we’ll get tons of EXP for it if we turn them in directly to Alex!” Mclean’s face lit up even more than Minx’s. “We’ll be a higher level than the old farts!”

Darwin found himself just shaking his head. For a moment, I let myself believe there were no ulterior motives. He sighed. It didn’t matter though. The net result was the same: the NPCs would get to eat a bunch of delicious treats instead of having to stick to a strictly meat diet. I can probably even get them to set up a farm in that other dungeon, and we could sell some of the excess snowballs to the town for gold. He realized that this might be a really good money-making scheme.

“Hey, do you hear that?” Kitchens stopped, extending his arm and stopping Minx too. “Lawlheima should be up ahead, right?”

“Yeah, it should be. What do you hear?” Darwin asked, more confused than anything. Kitchens wasn’t the type to make a big deal of small things, but he and Minx were both Felines, and as a result, they probably had much better hearing than the rest of them.

“I don’t know. It sounds like . . . It sounds like fighting!” He pulled out his sword and began to charge towards the cave in his usual tank-top-samurai fashion, leaning forward with his arms held motionless and ready for action with one hand on his sword hilt and the other on the scabbard.

“I hope we make it in time.” Darwin panicked, immediately dashing after Kitchens with the rest of the group towards Lawlheima as soon as Kitchens had finished speaking. He realized what was probably going on. It’s a raid! A group has come to do the dungeon, and they’re probably going to think the StormGuard Alliance members are just regular dungeon mobs to be farmed!

Mclean dropped her sugary treat and took to the skies with Daniel, flying ahead of the group and moving at a much faster pace than Darwin, Kitchens, Minx and Fuzzy Wuzzy could keep up with.

“It’s not looking good! There are almost thirty players up ahead!” Daniel shouted back to them, his voice trailing off as the distance between them grew greater.

Crap, crap, crap. Darwin’s panic started to freeze up his ability to think, and he struggled to come up with an idea. What do I do? What do I do? He was grasping for the reins of his runaway thoughts even as his feet propelled him forward with every ounce of speed his legs could muster. I won’t let them die again, he swore to himself as he burst out of the woods to finally see the fight up ahead.

Daniel’s count had been off. There weren’t just thirty players: there were closer to fifty in view as Darwin charged towards the fight. The soldiers, being led by Alex, were mimicking the same formation and tactics that they had used when they battled the Panda King but on a much smaller scale. The problem was that the attacking players weren’t all physical-type damage dealers. If everyone had just been standard melee fighters like before, the Demons’ strategy would have worked just as well as it had against the Panda King’s troops. It may even have worked even better since there were far fewer opponents on the field this time around. The problem, however, was the number of enemies taking part in this fight with ranged attacks and magic. As if right on cue to confirm Darwin’s fears, a giant fireball erupted on three of the front shields, burning the middle victim alive and knocking the entire formation out of order, rendering it vulnerable.

Darwin watched in horror as he raced towards the fight. Even a single missing member of the shield wall would render the entire formation useless. Thankfully, a group of Blue-Drakes circled around and blasted the ground between the shield wall and the enemies, buying precious time. Two fire mages in the attacking band shot additional waves of fire at the passing fliers, but the scorching blasts just helplessly fizzled out against the Blue-Drakes’ fireproof scales. Daniel and Mclean, taking advantage of the fact that the opposing force was focused on the fight in front of them, used the opportunity to quickly take out the two mages with a sneak attack from the rear. Their attack into the enemy’s rear flank only lasted seconds before they were already darting off into the skies again, the mages’ allies unable to enact vengeance.

“Get back in formation!” Alex yelled loudly enough for even Darwin, still a good thirty second run from the fight, to hear. The shieldwall immediately tightened back up. “Archers! I need a unit of you to shoot square 382 before that mage gets a second chance! The rest of you spread fire! Give us a spread four squares deep!” Within a moment, dozens of arrows flew out from behind the wall and covered the first fire mage’s body, turning him into what looked like a human porcupine. The warriors in the front, despite also being bombarded, remained almost unharmed as their shields absorbed most of the damage with only a few arrows getting through and wounding some.

“What the hell is this? The loot has to be crazy in there!” one of the attackers, a man with craggy, rock-covered skin shouted at his comrades. “Come on, guys! You gonna let a bunch of filthy, low-level mobs stop us from taking our cash?” He rallied the melee fighters, which amounted to well over half their numbers, and pushed forward. At last, their charge finally slammed into the shield wall. Most of them bounced off, but the phalanx was still knocked back half a foot. “Kill them all!” he shouted again and punched the ground, causing an earthen spike to shoot up from the ground and knock the soldier in front of him back.

What in the heck did he just do? Darwin wondered for a moment, but then shook his head free of distracting thoughts as he finally managed to close in on the archers. His sword cut through one of them before the man even had a chance to turn around. Kitchens, only a bit slower, managed to chop the one on his right in half before even enough time had passed to take a breath. The archer screamed as the top half of his torso separated from the bottom and slid off to the ground, leaving the player with only a moment of life before the game system notified him of his death.

As soon as Kitchens’ kill screamed, the twelve remaining ranged fighters turned around to see what had happened. They already knew that they had to watch out for Daniel and Mclean in the air. Even though they had been looking up, waiting to dodge their winged assailants--both Daniel and Mclean as well as the Blue-Drakes--they had failed to notice much of anything at ground level.

“Crap!” another craggy-skinned fighter in the pack yelled as he turned around just in time to watch Kitchens split another one of his friends in half. “Kevin! We got PKs eating us up back here! These jerks are trying to steal our quest!”

The fighter who had been shouting earlier turned and looked. Then, after saying something to the others that Darwin couldn't make out, he and three other rocky-skinned warriors slammed their hands into the ground. Their allies automatically backed away from the phalanx, and a giant earthen wall shot up between their group and the NPCs guarding the dungeon. “Alright, men! About face. We have some dirty, loot-thieving PKs to handle!” he shouted, and then they all turned around and charged towards Darwin’s team.

That is absolutely wicked. Darwin actually paused right in the middle of stabbing someone to watch the earth shoot upwards and create a barrier between the two groups. Not wanting to waste time, however, he went to strike another one of the range attackers, but he was repelled by a now all-too-familiar yellow shield. He knew just from looking at it that this one wasn’t as strong as the ones he had dealt with back in the winter-themed dungeon. Crack, you flimsy thing, he urged as his sword crashed down on the barrier two more times. The axe-throwing trollish creature whom he was attacking threw his projectiles, which somehow appeared back in his hands after each throw at Darwin, but Darwin’s own protective shield blocked them perfectly.

“Darwin, I can’t find the shielders or healers or whatever they are that are stopping us now!” Daniel shouted from the air. “We need to find them before the melee fighters get back here and put us in a bind!”

“These thieves! They want to kill us? We’ve already killed seven of the guards for this dungeon. The loot is ours!” the leader shouted again, picking up a clump of dirt as he ran and throwing it at Darwin. Mid-flight, it transformed into a giant spike and shattered against Darwin’s yellow shield.

Darwin stopped swinging his sword altogether. Those words spun around in his head a hundred times in a short moment. ‘We’ve already killed seven’ just kept playing on repeat. They’ve . . . Seven are . . . Seven are dead? Seven are dead, and they are bragging about it? His breathing started to shorten.

“Did you stun him?” the axe thrower asked the guy next to him. “What’s going on with that one?”

“He just knows what’s best! Look, give us your gold and leave, and we’ll overlook this insolence, you filthy PK!” The leader shouted at Darwin, but Darwin only partially heard it. The words being shouted around him didn’t really reach him. It was as if the screams were far away echoes bouncing back and forth in the back of his head.

“Darwin! Snap out of it!” Kitchens said from Darwin’s side, finally having broken through his victim’s shield and diced him up like vegetables on a cutting board. “We need to come up with a game plan quick, or we’re going to be outnumbered, and back up won't show until Alex gets that wall down.”

Seven people . . . and they think I’m the killer? Darwin’s head throbbed, and his grip on his sword tightened. They killed my people, and they accuse me of being nothing but a low-life, PK thief?

Darwin’s vision flashed the same red with which it often burned when Hunger flared up, but it didn’t make sense. He had the maximum 70 possible souls allowed. Much like it had been the first time Hunger had taken over during a fight, he found himself watching the ensuing carnage. His sword struck the yellow shield in front of him over and over again with as much strength and ferocity as he could summon until the shield cracked and shattered beneath his blows. The little weapon chucker inside futilely tried one more time to hit him with his magical, reappearing axe, but Darwin somehow reached out and grabbed it before his own barrier could block it. He mercilessly stabbed it into the man’s chest. The man screamed for a moment, and the noise must have irritated the new pilot of Darwin’s body. As soon as the cry rang out, Darwin plunged his sword into the man’s stomach, grabbed him by his hair, yanked his head back and then ripped the beast’s throat out with his teeth before pulling out his blade and letting the soon-to-be corpse fall to the ground.

“Not cool! What the heck kind of move did that guy just use to kill Erwin?” an ugly, ogrish creature that stood two feet taller than any normal human shouted. He was, for all intents and purposes, rather fiendish looking with overly-hairy, dirt-covered skin and an abdomen three times longer than it should have been. His elongated torso was resting on disproportionately small legs, and the creature had arms even longer than the abdomen. His hands were bigger than most people’s feet.

“Darwin?” Kitchens’ concern was written all over his face as he continued to hack at his own prey’s shield, clearly still trying to break through before it could be recast. He seemed set on killing one more enemy himself before reinforcements arrived.

Darwin’s next action shocked everyone--including himself. He watched it all happen as if he were in the passenger seat of a car driving on autopilot: he took his giant sword and stabbed himself right through his own heart. The critical hit to his heart rendered him dead almost instantly, and he didn’t have time to fully register his suicide before the lights went out and he slumped over on top of his zweihander, the fall pushing the blade further through his chest.

“Did . . . Did he just . . .” the enemies around him started speaking, but Darwin’s hearing faded along with his sight.

Soul Devourer has been activated and consumed your 70 soul charges. You have been restored to full life and will have a +50% increase on all stat values for 350 seconds after the resurrection process is complete.

Due to having no soul charges remaining, you will awaken with Hunger active.

This effect may not occur more than once an hour.

The familiar, blood-hued flash overtook his vision again as it beckoned forth a wave of pain to fill his body. The wound in his chest where the fiery blade impaled him throbbed and ached as if he were being run through by a hundred soldering irons. Despite the fact that he was slumped forward, propped up only by the cross guard and hilt of the zweihander spitted through his body, his knees bent, and he slowly started to stand back up. His body quickly began healing itself, trying to close to gash through his chest. It felt like he was being run through over and over again as each second passed.

Standing, he reached up to his chest and slowly, awkwardly pulled out the long and unwieldly sword. His wounds healed after each new injury the process created until the sword was fully removed. The only thing to show that he had ever been harmed was a hand-sized tear on both sides of his bathrobe where he had been shish-kebabed. There was a very brief moment of relief, then the pain flared up again. His shoulders, his knees, his legs--every muscle twisted and turned in agony as if his skeleton was being ripped to pieces. He tried to scream, but the torment pressed in on his lungs and left every muscle below his neck involuntarily tightening and untightening in discomfort.

Then it stopped. The burning faded, even though his chest still felt like it was fifty degrees too hot, and his vision, still seeing the world with a red tint, cleared up enough for him to make out what was around him. Everything seemed smaller. Everyone seemed weaker, more pathetic, like ants to be crushed. Most importantly, he now understood why he had killed himself. He needed to activate this skill. Hunger wasn’t just the name of a curse that ravaged his health and forced him to act. It was psychological too. He had tasted this power twice before, and now he had cause to taste it a third time. He wasn’t about to be denied his rampage.

They killed seven of mine? Then I will kill seven times that number of them! He embraced his Hunger, and gripped his sword, which now felt as light as a feather. He slammed it into one of the long-armed troll players, cracking his yellow shield in two swings and dismembering his bow-holding arm with a third. He could feel a need, the thirst for carnage, grow stronger as he punched into the troll’s screaming mouth and ripped out its tongue.

Everyone else on the battlefield stood transfixed. They had all paused to watch his Lazarus-like rebirth and the subsequent brutal destruction of one of their players. Before they could react, before people could come to their senses, his blade had already pierced through another player, one without a shield. So he’s one of the healers, he thought as he decapitated him with his sword. How many more are left? He grinned, the pull of his want and need driving him towards yet another lamb for the slaughter.

“What . . . What the hell? These guys are cheating!” the Jotunn complained again.

“He’s not cheating. He’s just a higher level. This dungeon is flagged as Level 45. He might already be 50!” the obvious leader responded. He was a few dozen feet away from Darwin and closing in quick. “I mean, remember how difficult that scout group we encountered on the way here was? If it weren’t for our healers, we wouldn’t have been able to kill them so quickly.”

“Yeah, and if the shields are failing! It’s your fault! Why can’t you cast good shields like you did against those red-eyed pipsqueaks earlier?” They were already shifting blame, making excuses as their arrows, axes, spikes and the occasional ball of fire bounced off Darwin’s shield bot’s defense.

They’re low level . . . They’re only Level 40 to 45? Darwin processed the information. And . . . And that’s a healer!

“Hey! Are you guys checking this out? He’s got a bathrobe on . . . and his eyes are red! He’s the boss of the dungeon we’ve been sent to kill!” one of the Jotunns he passed shouted to the others as Darwin closed in. “We don’t even have to worry about that plan we had to burn the phalanx alive, we can just kill him here!”

Plan . . . to burn the phalanx alive? Darwin had managed to impale the healer who had been stupid enough to let his identity be known to an enemy, when the leader finally caught up with him, slamming into Darwin’s side with all his strength. The shield didn’t stop the force of the man’s attack entirely, and Darwin was knocked back a few inches.

“Crap, he’s got both our healers. Let’s get him before the other groups show up!” the leader shouted. “Everyone focus on him! We can bring down his barrier. He’s not a PK! He’s the boss!”

“Darwin!” Kitchens moved through another foe like a hot knife quickly slicing through butter. It was just as he had done countless times before, walking forward and the enemy falling apart, but this time Darwin could see everything--and this time it was the last thing he saw as the red haze filled his vision and grew stronger and stronger.

He hadn’t noticed until it was too late, but each time he killed someone, the red tint grew just a little bit more and his vision grew a little bit blurrier. He had thought he was behaving of his own free will after the resurrection, but as he tried to speak out and answer Kitchens, it became painfully obvious he was still on auto pilot. The red had grown to the point where it completely obscured his vision and he couldn’t even watch.

Darwin had no idea when he lost himself to the blood rage, but he could slowly feel himself regaining control, still in the middle of a fight. Dodge, he screamed at his body as a sword slashed down at him and a quick sidestep barely saved his skin. He realized he had slightly more control as he used his blade to parry the attacking longsword, which had gone from its downward position into another sideways slash at him. When the parried blade returned once more for another downward swipe, he didn’t just sidestep, he caught the blade with his cross guard and threw it to the side. While his attacker tried to control the momentum of his deflected blade, he lunged forward, shoulder first, and caught whomever it was right in the center of his chest, knocking him back three paces.

There wasn’t even a moment’s pause in the fight. As quickly as his foe was knocked away, he was already back, pressing Darwin with another three consecutive slashes. Two came from the side and one came down at his head with such speed that Darwin had to back up while parrying in order to avoid being hit. I’m not going to be pushed back this easily. Darwin dug his foot in the ground, summoning all the power he could muster, and arced his sword upwards at a 45-degree angle to make it nearly unavoidable for the opponent.

It worked--for the most part. His opponent parried the blow, lifted his legs, and let the force of the impact carry him backwards. When the enemy landed, Darwin tried the same thing again, repeating the heavy swing right at his opponent from the opposite direction. This time, however, the man caught the blade with his own and used its downward momentum to drive Darwin’s flamberge into the ground. His katana danced up Darwin’s zweihander and plunged into his arm. The pain almost made Darwin drop the blade, but he gritted his teeth and jerked his blade directly up instead. His adversary quickly moved out of the way, and the zweihander didn’t even nick him as Darwin had hoped, but it still put Darwin’s weapon in front of him once more so he could parry incoming blows.

Watch the center of their body. It lies the least. Darwin started to remember what Alex had taught him and began to focus less on the katana that was now striking at him and more on the opponent’s center. Parry. Good. I can do this. He fought through the distraction of his injury. But, just as Darwin thought he was about to triumph over his foe, two feet planted into his back so hard he fell forward with enough force for his horns to dig holes in the ground. He struggled, almost throwing off whomever it was that had kicked him in the back, until a new weight, which felt like it must have been heavier than a truck, pressed him further into the earth.

What the hell? This is how I die? He grumbled into the dirt as he finally gave up struggling to free himself and proceeded to wait for his inevitable death, one that wouldn’t be undone by resurrection. Wait . . . Has it been an hour since the fight started?

Then, unexpectedly, the dirt around his face started to shift and unclamped little by little until he had plenty of room to breathe. Bright sunlight once more assailed his face as it was cleared of dirt. He grumbled, spit out the muck that had made it into his mouth, and looked up from where he was being held down against the ground.

“You about cool yet, big guy?” he heard someone say.

“Huh?” Darwin tried to turn his head to see who was talking, not entirely sure what was going on.

“Well, he’s speaking again,” the voice said, clearly not to him. Whatever was sitting on top of him roared and started moving, but the voice stopped it. “Hold on, Fuzzball. We don’t know if he’s back to earth again. Stay there for a moment.”

Fuzzball? Fuz . . . “Fuzzy Wuzzy?” Darwin said, then started to recognize the voice, “Daniel?”

“There we go! He’s back. The boss is back,” he said to whomever else was watching. “Alright, Fuzzy, get off Darwin. We don’t want him to get angry again,” Daniel laughed. “You really gave us a scare there, boss.”

“Yeah, what happened there? You kind of . . .” Mclean asked, trailing off. “Got more handsome.”

Huh? I got more . . . Wait . . . What the heck? Darwin finally pushed himself off the ground as Fuzzy Wuzzy got up and let him stand again. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“I was going to say you went kind of crazy back there. Don’t know what Mclean is talking about,” Daniel responded. “We were lucky Kitchens was able to hold you off until we could get you pinned there.”

The opponent, the katana--so it was Kitchens. Darwin put the pieces together. The entire fight he had been so obsessed with worrying about the enemy, watching his arms, his legs, his blades, his style, and making sure that he could defeat and kill him, that he never once looked at the face or thought about whom he was fighting. He had just known that there was a fight, and he desperately wanted to win it and kill the other person. If they had said anything to him, he either hadn’t heard it or it just hadn’t registered. So this is the true face of the madness my bloodline is cursed with. Darwin frowned, realizing that, although this particular moment had passed, there would inevitably be more and more like it.

“Think nothing of it.” Kitchens sheathed his sword. “It was good to fight a worthy opponent for once.”

“Were you going easy on him?” Minx asked her dad with wide, expectant eyes. “You never take that long to kill someone. You’re a superman!”

“That’s a rude question to ask, Minx. Do not belittle the skills of the man we follow.” Kitchens turned and started heading towards the entrance behind the now-mostly-crumbled and destroyed wall of earth.

Minx tilted her head as if she didn’t agree with him and then shrugged and followed after her father. “How come you don’t get taller?” she asked her dad as they walked towards the entrance.

“I’m taller?” Darwin looked at his body. It didn’t feel or look any different. It wasn’t like the time he had resurrected to feel horns.

“Yeah, man, you are at least three inches taller than you were before.

“And beefier. Mmm . . . I know a few guys that would die to learn that magic trick.” Mclean giggled and then nudged Daniel.

“Hey! I’m happy with my height!” Daniel tried to defend himself, but Mclean and Fuzzy Wuzzy both just snickered at him.

While they continued to tease Daniel, Darwin couldn’t help but look around. He had remembered around fifty or so players when he first came to the fight, but there were well over a hundred bodies from what seemed like a dozen different races. They were scattered apart, cauterized, cleaved and destroyed, some in ways that just didn’t make sense. Darwin couldn’t imagine how or why someone would have everything from their jaw to their collar bone missing. “What . . . What happened here?” Darwin desperately tried to scavenge his memories for even the slightest clue to what had just transpired. “What did we do? What did I do?”

Kitchens, who had been walking with Minx back towards the phalanx at the entrance of Mt. Lawlheima, stopped for a moment and turned around. “Darwin!” he called out to him. “Come here. I think we need to talk. Minx, you go play with Fuzzy Wuzzy.”

Darwin didn’t exactly run, but he didn’t walk either as he darted to meet up with Kitchens, who had changed direction and started heading towards Darwin’s left, away from the entrance and the sea of corpses.

“So what’s up?” Darwin asked when they were out of earshot of anyone else.

“Hmm, Darwin, you knew this issue would come up?” Kitchens looked at him with a type of square, flat face that made him feel like he was staring at an angry Easter Island statue.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Like I said earlier, it’s caused by a class skill.”

“I believe you said that when this skill comes up, everything goes red and you find it difficult to control what you’re doing?” Kitchens had a rather serious look on his face, one that reminded Darwin of a patient expecting to receive bad news from a doctor, yet his tone was more in line with the doctor giving the bad news.

“Yeah, but it’s kind of difficult to describe though. This time was worse than the others. I’m usually like a passenger, watching the turns a bus makes through a window from a seat near the front, but this time it felt like I was losing consciousness.” Darwin wasn’t exactly sure how to explain what had happened except by comparing it to being possessed. He had control of himself, but then he didn’t, and he could watch, but then he couldn’t. The spotty mastery of his own faculties wasn’t even the worst part of it. The worst part was knowing that Hunger hadn’t trigger it, and that it hadn’t been triggered by dying either.

“When you killed yourself, were you the one driving?” Kitchens still hadn’t blinked. It was weird that Darwin noticed this, especially since it was a game, but it was somewhat offsetting when someone was staring right at you with such an intense look. It’s not like avatars in most games blinked, but now he was beginning to wonder if Tiqpa even had the feature.

Blinking, huh. Darwin’s lips fell halfway into a frown. I really wish he would just blink and make this feel less awkward. “It--whatever it is--was driving. Not me,” he answered honestly, starting to feel uncomfortable about the conversation. Why does this bother me so much? Why is talking about it making me feel so uneasy?

“Hmm . . . I see. And when it’s in control, do you want the driver, for lack of a better word, to ever stop what it’s doing? Do you ever tell it to behave itself and not kill?”

“I . . .” Darwin hesitated to answer.

“So you didn’t tell it not to attack me? Not to try to kill me when we fought?” Kitchens’ words stabbed through him.

No. No. “No, it wasn’t like that, I --” He started trying to explain his actions so he wouldn’t lose a friend, one of the few people he actually felt comfortable using the word ‘friend’ to describe, but Kitchens cut him off.

“You just didn’t see my face, didn’t know it was me you were fighting? Did you?” Kitchens explained it for Darwin, much to Darwin’s relief.

“No. No, I didn’t. All I saw was the sword, the arms, when and where the attacks were coming from. . . I lost consciousness somewhere in the fight, and by the time I regained it, all I knew was that a sword was coming at me, and I didn’t want to die. I just saw that I was being attacked, and I didn’t want to lose,” Darwin sighed.

“Was it fun?” Kitchens pressed the topic squarely back into the realm of accusation with just those three words.

“Uhh . . .” Darwin tried to recall. He had been so focused on his actions that a concept like ‘fun’ never came up. He hadn’t been sad, happy, bored or entertained. He had been almost like a machine that was utterly dedicated to a single task. “No,” he finally spoke. Certain that it was the truth.

“Lighten up, Darwin. You look too tense. Be like water,” Kitchens clasped Darwin on the shoulder, knocking a sigh of relief out of him. “I only have one more question: What were you thinking about before it started? Did anything of note happen first?”

“I remember . . .” Darwin didn’t have to think about it for more than a second before he recalled the trigger. “I was thinking about how they had killed seven of our guildmates already, and they were acting like it was their right to do it. They were talking as if, since they had come first, they had the right kill our people before anyone else, and . . . because they came here first, I wasn’t able to stop them before people died.”

“So anger set it off.” Kitchens nodded as if he already anticipated this answer. “Darwin, what you’re experiencing, I know a bit about it.”

“You do?” Darwin wasn’t sure how anyone else knew anything about his unique, inherited curse. Maybe there was a berserker class that had a similar attribute, but Kitchens hadn’t even started selecting abilities yet from the sound of their earlier conversation.

“There are some things, small details about a man’s first time in a live combat zone, that you just can’t help but notice a lot of war stories have in common. Most of them start when the fan gets assaulted by fertilizer, and they are generally all told by a hero. If you were telling the story about your first time in combat, for instance, you’d be the hero, and the story might start off rather simple. You might be just walking through a town on a day so hot that five topless supermodels on a beach couldn’t compare to it when all of the sudden a bang happens. Two bangs, three bangs, and either you or your buddy next to you, especially if you’re both green horns, will piss himself. You’ll duck and run for cover. And I don’t mean the general cover where you sleep under the truck so a loose shot in the night doesn’t pick you off, I mean the type of cover where you need something solid to hold you up because your legs start shaking and your breath goes ragged.” Kitchens started his story, and while Darwin wasn’t sure if he was talking about his own experiences or just stories he had heard, he couldn’t stop listening to every detail. Kitchens normally had a laid back personality, but as he spoke now, his hands came alive a bit, and his voice seemed to move up and down like it was trying to sweeten the story with a rhythm that wasn’t suited for any song.

“It gets worse as time goes by too,” Kitchens went on. “If you watch the movies, especially war movies, it makes the fights seem like they last forever. Who knows? Maybe they did at one point, but from the stories I’ve heard, the tellers were thankful they usually only lasted about ten to fifteen minutes, rarely up to thirty. Each second that clicks on by your first time, you feel big. Huge, but not in a good way. Not in a macho, masculine way. Well, some people do since they are born out of steel--but for the people I knew, their first time, they felt big in the sort of way where you were aware of every square inch of their body that was exposed. Every single possible piece of flesh that could be hit by enemy gunfire added to the panic, and they wished they would shrink up, and they prayed to be small for the first time in their lives. Then, as if it’s just the way of the world, things escalate because your NCO, your squadmate, that driver you split a cigarette with when you couldn’t find a shop nearby, whomever it is next to you, won’t take cowardice on the field. They won’t have anything against you for it, but they just don’t want to die. A trenchmate who won’t carry his weight is a surefire way to end up in a bed of posies to them, so they kick and push you to go out and do something.

“That’s when you grab your 240 bravo, man up and start shooting the first thing you see that looks like a threat: a window with a flash that might have been a gunshot or a man who looks like he’s holding a gun--not that you can be sure from the distance he’s at. Not that you can see anything but movement to begin with. You unload and keep unloading, one shot after another, until your NCO knocks you to stop because your barrel has melted, and he doesn’t want the bullets to turn the end of your weapon into a small shrapnel bomb.” Then Kitchens said nothing. He just looked at Darwin for a good long minute. Darwin wasn’t sure what to say after a story like that, but just as he was about to open his mouth and break the silence, Kitchens started again.

“Darwin, life isn’t much different than this video game. You didn’t go into some berserk rage that you couldn’t control. You just snapped under the pressure. You weren’t on autopilot; you were just acting so fast your brain couldn’t keep up. It’s not like you’re slow or stupid or can’t think faster than your hands can move. It’s just that you and your brain both know that, when the time comes, if you spend even a second trying to figure out if that guy in the window is a friend or a foe, armed or unarmed, if it actually is an enemy, then it’s a second that just got you shot. My guess is that you’ll never be able to get rid of that tunnel vision in some fights. It’s just not possible . . . but you can solve the lack of control. That is something you can fix.”

“How?” Darwin asked, though he was already starting to draw a conclusion as to what the answer would be. Kitchens had practically spelled it out. The problem exists because I’m emotionally weak.

“Well, for starters, it never flares up in dungeons, does it? We’ve leveled together for a while, no problems. But it pops up instantly when you are fighting people with lives on the line? I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve been worried about something or someone dying while fighting and gone into that autopilot state, is it?” Kitchens asked.

“No, it isn’t.” Darwin remembered that the first time he had ever experienced it was when he was in the tournament and found out that it was a fight to the death. He had thought that if he failed, he’d end up as a corpse permanently.

“This world is so realistic that no human can reasonably tell the difference, and NPCs don’t come back. I understand that, but other people aren’t having this issue because they aren’t failing to separate the game world from reality. Sometimes, when your emotions turn on, you need to learn to shut them down, bottle them up and pack them away for when you can process them with a cool head. If you can learn that patience, learn to focus on the objective without fretting over the consequences if you fail or about the things going on around you, I think you won’t have that problem again.”

Darwin wasn’t used to Kitchens talking straight. He had half-expected even that speech to come as ‘Fire should be . . .’ and ‘You need to be more like water when . . .’ or something. But, for what Darwin guessed was a very personal reason, this wasn’t the type of subject the man minced words with or took a chance that the other party didn’t get it. “I understand,” Darwin said, nodding.

“Good. Now, you need to do your best to not let it happen again. Minx, Mclean and Daniel may be joking around about the topic, but that’s only because they don’t know what else to say or do. You were pretty ghastly in that fight: you even shoved one person’s body part into another person’s mouth to kill him.”

“Right . . . So, to ease the tension, I probably should . . .” Darwin wondered what sagely solution could possibly make people less nervous around him.

“Ease the tension? Just let that happen naturally. I’m going to tell you an important lesson you learn as a man: Sometimes you should just run away. In fact, you should handle this subject just like I handle the topic of sex with Minx: Never bring it up and hope the other party forgets all about it.” Kitchens nodded, happy with his advice.

“Kitchens, thank you.” Darwin figured there were a lot of potentially-eloquent things he could say, but the man had opened up about what felt like a rather dark, real-life story to give him advice about his problems and make it relatable, so he didn’t want to botch the moment with a lame response.

“No problem, kid,” Kitchens said and turned to head back to the rest of the party.

Kid? I’m like thirty years old! How old are you that you think I’m a kid? He wanted to ask, but he figured there wouldn’t be a point.

When they walked back to the group, Minx was riding on Fuzzy Wuzzy’s shoulders as the bear did circles around Daniel and Mclean, who were busy talking and laughing about something.

“So what’s the game plan? Go find another dungeon and kill some more people or wait around and see if yet another group shows up?” Mclean asked.

“Wait, where’s Alex?” Darwin asked, avoiding the obvious ‘How many groups actually showed up’ question that he really wanted to ask.

“He took the wounded inside and went to reorganize the troops. Said he’d be back out if the scouts gave word again.”

“Well, we might as well wait for Kass or Valerie anyway.” Darwin shrugged. “Do most guilds have this problem?”

“It depends. If they based their entire guild in a mountain, they might.” Mclean shrugged too, tossing one of her knives up in the air and catching it.

“Or if they have a secret quest set by a mysterious NPC to kill their guild leader and break the portal to Hell, that might also explain the attack,” Daniel said, moving his finger around in that weird and awkward way people used to back during the hand motion technology craze.

“Wait, what?” Even Fuzzy Wuzzy seemed curious as they all stopped what they were doing and looked at Daniel.

“Yeah. There is a huge reward on your head, Darwin. You’re marked as the boss of this dungeon, and it’s said that you’re protecting an evil portal to Hell that will unleash a flood of Demons. Since the beta stage is ending, and the game is making its official release soon, players are speculating that this is going to be the huge loot giveaway quest. They are starting to migrate from all over to participate, even though half the forum is complaining that there wouldn’t be just ‘one’ quest on ‘one’ side of the map since it’d be too unfair to the other regions.” Daniel’s shocked expression made him look as if he had seen a ghost. “It even has your race listed, Darwin. It says you’re the mighty King of the Demons. I mean, I don’t know if StormGuard Alliance is a monarchy, but you guys are Demons, right?”

“Well, this really does complicate things, doesn’t it?” Darwin looked back at Lawlheima. “Anyone have any suggestions on how to handle this?”

Chapter 4 – Flap Protection Saves Lives

Kass:

Kass had never been happier to see the front of her house in her life than she was when Charles’s driver dropped her off right outside of it after that incredibly awkward breakfast, so, when she finally got home and logged on, the euphoria was still very much present. That break from the tension and drama made her feel lighter than a feather as she booted up her character. Today will be a better day, she told herself, trying her best to put behind the heavy topics and ignore the conversations and events of the last twenty-four hours.

As she logged in, finding herself still inside Lawlheima where she had logged out the night before, she saw an NPC clearing away the Blue-Drake camp that had spawned right next to her. Then, as she was walking to the entrance, she noticed Valerie, who was staring down at her legs and moving them around a little.

“Hey, Valerie! What’s up? Did you just log on too?” Kass asked as she ran over to her winged friend. She wasn’t exactly close to Daniel, Mclean and Valerie, but she still did her best to be chummy with them.

It sometimes felt like the guild was broken into three groups. The first was Minx, Fuzzy Wuzzy, Kitchens and herself; the second was Daniel, Valerie and Mclean; and the third was Alex and the rest of the NPCs. The only common factor in each group seemed to be the horned hero himself, Darwin. It wasn’t exactly like she had planned it that way, or anyone had, but it’s just how the groups had naturally developed due to who hung out more. She was kind of happy that, after the last big battle, apparently everyone other than herself had bonded. That’s why she was putting on her best smile and was stopping to chat with Valerie before rushing to go meet up with Darwin. Though being around Darwin is kind of my job now, isn’t it? she grumbled to herself. She had only told Charles that she would think about it, but while they were eating, Charles had insisted that he was going to act with the assumption that she had already taken him up on his offer and sent a stipend to her account. God, it feels so dirty thinking that hanging out with my friends is just a job I’m being paid for, she lamented to herself.

“Oh.” Valerie, who had been lost in her own thoughts, looked up at Kass with a kind of surprised expression. “I guess I’m fine? Maybe? Do you see anything different?”

If you get sick in real life, does your avatar in the game even show it? Kass wondered as she tilted her head. She was about to respond with a joking answer like ‘No, you could definitely use more makeup than a DIY zombie kit would even have,’ but then she stopped herself. Am I even close enough to her to make that joke? she wondered as she inspected Valerie’s face. “I . . . I don’t know. Did you cut your hair?” she asked, knowing that was generally the physical change most people failed to notice about a girl.

“My hair?” Valerie looked up. “No . . . No, it looks fine. Oh, well . . . Let’s umm . . . Let’s not worry about it then. I just thought . . . Never mind. Let’s go meet up with the others.” She forced a rather painful-looking smile and started heading outside. Kass really didn’t know where the others were. She forgot more times than she remembered that she could track Darwin using the map feature, but it didn’t matter.

“Yeah, sounds great,” Kass replied, catching up with her. “I’m looking forward to getting some levels. Level 60 should give us some great new skills.” She grinned ear to ear. Just thinking about the awesome abilities she might get made her mouth water more than the smell of a well-marinated tenderloin barbecuing on a hot day.

“I just can’t wait to see the dungeons! Or can you imagine the next towns we will run into? First that city of glass, then the cool walled city . . . I wonder what we’ll see next. It’s like going through an architectural wonderland!” Valerie seemed, at least to Kass, to be a bit too enthused about the layouts of different cities. “I wonder what the City of Light will look like . . .” She trailed off for a moment. “But, yeah, even this place is going to look so great when it’s finished!”

Kass, who had never seen Valerie talk about something with much enthusiasm, had to kind of shake her head at the poor girl’s interest. “Well, if you’re really into that stuff, I suppose we could talk to Darwin about going north and checking out that Arabian-themed city? It’s supposed to feature some of the most intricate, beautiful buildings. I hear a lot of them have ornate, gold-capped roofs.”

“Arabian city? They’re not going to make us cover up, are they?” Valerie laughed, pulling her wing over her face in lieu of any cloth.

“Nah, it’s just the design theme that’s Arabian. The culture is more European. The races have a Nordic touch like Jotunn and Earth-Walkers rather than Djinn,” Kass said through a chuckle at Valerie’s joke. She’s not a bad person to hang out with. Kinda funny in her own way, Kass noted.

“Earth-Walkers . . .” The words made Valerie look like she had lost her footing for a second as she considered what Kass had said. “So I guess Fire-Walkers weren’t the only elemental stompers. I’m kind of surprised. I thought they might use a different body part for the description. After all, Fire-Walkers could summon fire from pretty much anywhere. Maybe switch it up with the naming? Something like Earth-Hands maybe?”

“Or Ice-Cro--” Kass began to add onto Valerie’s thought, but Valerie quickly interrupted her lewd comment.

“No! Not going there! Clean thoughts, Kass!” Valerie was laughing at it even as she stopped her. “Hey, what the . . . Holy crud, what happened?”

When Kass and Valerie exited the cave, they were greeted by a full phalanx that stood quietly facing forward and blocking them as if it were a closed gate. In front of the phalanx was a raised earthen wall of sorts with one part of it broken down and traces of smoke coming up in the distance behind it. Kass couldn’t see what Valerie was talking about though as the avian had flown up a bit the second she had seen the wall block their entrance.

“Lady Kass.” Alex appeared at Kass’s side almost as soon as she saw the phalanx. “Would you like me to escort you through the men to the Great Lord Darwin?”

Ah, yeah. I guess Alex could help me walk through this thing. “Sure, if you don’t mind,” she answered. When do I get ‘Great’ added to my title? She laughed to herself, remembering how important that was to her at one time not too long ago. Now, she’d just be happy to play the game without worrying about evil, scheming teenagers stealing her man and destroying humanity before she could get a first date. How exactly does playing a game help someone to undo humanity? I still don’t get it. Something isn’t adding up. Kass frowned. Am I just too dumb to understand what she could possibly be plotting, or is it a lack of information?

“Right this way, Lady Kass.” Alex gave a half bow then shouted to the phalanx, “Line Row 12!” One of the rows around the middle of the phalanx shifted, men scuffling about, to reveal an opening big enough for a person to easily move through.

She was wondering why the phalanx was so well formed when there had been so many undead soldiers to defend the place and what was going on with all the fortifications around Lawlheima, but when she finally passed through their formations, it all became clear. There were bodies littered about all over the place, almost all of them around her usual group of players. Darwin was covered in blood to the point where his horns and face, obviously wiped off at some point, were the only part of him not dripping red.

“Ugh. Was there another large fight? Did we miss out on a big battle?” Valerie complained as she flew above Kass and Alex.

“Another big fight?” Kass asked aloud, very confused. “I don’t understand. Was there a first one?”

“Oh, yeah, you weren’t here. Darwin and Alex put together an incredible defense against thousands of the Panda King’s toughest and meanest soldiers. We were kind of confused because the Panda King never showed up in the fight, but it was a clear win. I don’t know all the details, but by the time I logged on yesterday, most of the defense was already prepared by Darwin and the NPCs. I don’t think that guy ever logs off or sleeps. All we had to do was help with some finishing touches before crushing the Animal Kingdom’s army,” Valerie explained.

“You mean . . .” Kass looked at the bodies around the group. If what Valerie said was true, and they had already gone through two large battles, that meant everyone in the group but her was probably Level 60 already.

“Yeah, sorry, Kass. You missed out on a lot of EXP. But apparently there was another fight, so maybe it wasn’t your only shot. Maybe there will be more opportunities for you to level up off the Panda King’s army if he is still attacking.” Valerie sounded sympathetic towards Kass and her absenteeism.

Kass looked at one of the bodies she and Alex had to step over on their way to Darwin. “No, these aren’t beast men. This one is clearly a Jotunn,” she said, making sure not to lose her footing in the blood.

“Weird, but I thought you just said that their town was in the north. It isn’t close to us, is it?” Valerie asked.

“No, it isn’t. It’s almost half a day’s travel if you go by boat. For them to be this far south and have this many races mixed in, something’s not right.” Kass’s frown deepened, sagging more than clocks in a Dali painting.

“You’re not wrong there,” Darwin, who was now close enough to hear her statement, responded. “There’s apparently a quest to clean out this dungeon.”

“Really?” Kass’s eyes perked up. “That means we’ve already done it. We cleared it like two days ago. Can we go collect the reward? Is it a big reward? It must be. I mean, it drew people from so far away.”

“Well, we did clear the dungeon, but I meant a quest to clear it now. I’m apparently the one listed as the boss.” Darwin’s face seemed to cheer up at that statement. “Apparently I’m now classified as a great dungeon boss, the King of Demons,” he laughed.

Ugh. Don’t you know that anyone can tell that laugh is forced, Darwin? Your normal muffled chortle is definitely not that loud. She sighed. “Wait, so players are going to keep pouring in to try and collect the reward? What the heck are we supposed to do then?”

“I proposed that we try to recruit more players,” Daniel piped up. “Alex could give a quest to kill other players in defense of Lawlheima. It would easily beat most people’s normal leveling. We could pretend like it’s a versus quest and try to raise a bigger army than the ones attacking, but given how much of a head start this current quest giver has had on us, there isn’t a guarantee the force we raise will be big enough to stand off against the oncoming waves of raiders. You know, as soon as those guys respawn, they’re going to try to gather together and come again with an even bigger force.” Daniel scratched his head.

“Great Lord Darwin, I think that our current force should be adequate to handle any ruffians that try to penetrate our barriers,” Alex stated proudly, dismissing Daniel’s suggestion. “We don’t need the help of outsiders or foreign powers. We will stand strong and weather the storm.”

Kass didn’t know what to make of Alex’s brazen declaration. In her experience, Alex wasn’t the type to put pride first, especially if it could cost people their lives.

“Alex, how many men did we lose today?” Darwin asked him.

“Scouts included? We lost roughly eleven total, Great Lord Darwin,” he answered. He wasn’t frowning, but he wasn’t smiling either. His expression was serious, and it gave Kass the impression that he was actually challenging Darwin and Daniel.

“Alex, how many people are born every day in our town?” Darwin said, continuing his line of questioning.

“Every day? Well, maybe one or two a week. There isn’t a guarantee that someone will be born every day,” Alex confirmed the numbers without having to hesitate.

Kass was kind of astounded by how fast Alex replied. It was as if he had studied that piece of information for a test he knew was coming. Does he know every detail of the population?

“Great, so do the math, Alex. If we lose even a fourth of the number we lost today, do you think we can survive a year? Will we survive the fifteen years it might take for the infants to grow old enough to replace the warriors on the battlefield? We need help, Alex, not pride,” Darwin said clearly.

Kass watched the back and forth between the two, and she couldn’t help but think about how Darwin seemed even more mature now than he did when they first met. It was like he had grown wiser and . . . Did he grow taller? No, that’s . . . He does look bigger and taller. Am I just imagining things?

Alex’s defiant look didn’t fade. “Darwin, you weren’t there at Valcrest. The newcomers to this land . . . I don’t want anything to do with them. We opened our taverns, our homes, our shops and our hearts to them, and they burned it all to the ground. They butchered our fathers and sons in the streets. I won’t forget that. I put up with the ones you brought along because they are honestly good people. There were even good people among the newcomers we welcomed to Valcrest--people like you--but not everyone. Can you promise me that, if we ask them to come to our defense, we won’t just be inviting wolves into the sheep pen?”

Everyone was silent. No-one had an answer to that. While only Kass and Darwin knew the full story, the weight of Alex’s words and the ire that permeated his voice were sufficient enough to instill a solemn mood in the group. It put them all on edge because each of them was probably thinking the same thing Kass thought: We’re just like the ones that butchered Alex’s people. We’re just players who look at NPCs and see vendors and EXP or quest givers--not people. Such reflection on the personhood of NPCs had been a running cause of self-doubt for her ever since she had first met Darwin and was constantly faced with computer-generated characters that had more emotional depth than almost every guy that had ever hit on her.

Darwin took a deep breath that was loud enough to break the silence as he stared down at Alex, his new height difference even more noticeable as he towered over the now-smaller man. “When I was young, I remember how many times people slighted me and hurt my feelings. Every time I complained about it, the teachers used to tell me some nonsense story about how we should forgive them because forgiveness is divine. One of the quotes that a teacher of mine used all the time particularly grated on my nerves. He used to quote a great man and say, ‘The weak can never forgive, forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.’ I didn’t understand it back then, when he first said it, because I didn’t have a choice on whether or not to I should forgive people. It felt like I was only forced to forgive because I was weak.

“But now, I think I’m starting to understand it. After all, in this instance, you’ve really only got two options. First, you can stay angry at us newcomers. Curse the ground we walk on and hole up here in Lawlheima. Wait for our numbers to dwindle as the attacks grow larger and more powerful every day--and believe me they will--until, finally, we don’t have a force strong enough to survive and are wiped from existence. Or . . . there is a second option. You can forgive us. You can use us as if past animosity never existed, and let us build numbers and die in your place. You can watch as we do our best to summon more and more of the people you call newcomers until, eventually, there isn’t a single member of the Demon Race that has to perish on account of this stupid quest. You can make the choice to not forgive and stay weak or to let bygones be bygones and, through forgiving, grow strong. That said, this time I’ll listen to your counsel. I won’t force the decision down everyone’s throat. I want you to think long and hard about the people serving under you, the women and children relying on you, and whether or not your grudge is worth their lives.”

Where does Darwin pull these speeches from? It’s like he had an entire night with a keyboard and a search engine to figure out the best thing to say. Kass was quite surprised. The whole group shifted their gaze to Alex, waiting for him to respond. He had gone from looking angry and defiant to looking like a standing version of Rodin’s The Thinker or a man with nothing better to do than look out a bus window. “Fine. You can seek help from the newcomers, but that doesn’t mean we have to like it.”

“No, but it does mean you’re going to have to give out quests. Not me, not Daniel--you,” Darwin pressed, exploiting the moment of weakness in Alex’s hatred.

“Fair enough. I’ll do what must be done to protect our people. I trust you can summon them without my assistance?” He looked positively grumpy as he stood there.

“Yeah, we can handle it,” Darwin nodded. “I know it was hard, but you’ve made the right decision.”

“I hope I have. Now, may I be dismissed, Great Lord Darwin?” Alex asked, his tone still sharp.

“How about, while we work on this, you pull the men back and reorganize the scouting squads into lumber harvesting groups. The phalanx won’t work on this type of enemy, so I’m going to need you to put together some new defensive ideas in case the newcomers we gather fail. If they die, we can get the numbers back quickly, but we don’t need to be taking chances. The mountain above this entrance has a lot of lumber, and the inside has a lot of stone. Make use of both,” Darwin ordered. “Also, you’re dismissed.”

As soon as Alex left, the immediate dispersal of tension made it feel like everyone had just come up for air after holding their breath for five minutes. “Well, that was unexpected,” Daniel said. “I knew players messed things up, but I didn’t realize how badly we had impacted the world. It kind of makes you wonder: How does the NPC respawn system work?”

“Yeah, their whole town was sacked. It was all over the boards when it happened.” Kass filled Daniel as briefly as possible. “But let’s focus on the problem at hand.” She puffed up her chest and tried to sound regal and authoritative like Darwin had moments ago. Unfortunately, the only effect was that Kitchens, Darwin and Daniel’s eyes looked south of her face for a moment when she stuck out her chest. Ugh, men . . . I should have known, she grumbled to herself and aborted the straight-backed posture. “We need to figure out how to actually handle this problem, not just agree to let other players help us,” Kass said.

“Hmmm?” Mclean looked over at Kass, not understanding what she meant. “I thought letting other people fend off the gates was the solution?”

Ha! I finally get to be the one to explain the str-- Kass began to think triumphantly until Daniel opened his mouth.

“What she means is that, while players aren’t exactly a commodity that needs producing, there still will be a delay until a sufficient number of players show up to handle the request. In the meantime, we can guard the gate, but are the lot of us enough to hold off any and every enemy?” Daniel looked worriedly at the gate and then at Darwin. “Also, I don’t think we can rely on Darwin to defend the entrance. By the way, what is there to prevent players who take the quest from betraying us and confirming Alex’s fears?”

Ugh! I was going to say that! Kass mentally kicked herself for not speaking faster. First Darwin got the title and authority up on her, and now Daniel was coming up with the ideas and strategies before she could even speak. It didn’t make sense sometimes. I’ve been with him the whole time. Why do I feel like we’re getting further and further apart? The thought slowly shifted through her head until she was distracted by something Daniel had said. “Wait, why can’t we rely on Darwin to help in the next fight? I know Kitchens and Minx are amazing at dealing damage, but Darwin’s zweihander gives him the most brutal damage and reach, right? He’s like a wrecking ball sometimes.”

“Darwin is having trouble controlling himself during battles due to a skill. It’d be better if he distanced himself until he gains a better understanding of its mechanics,” Kitchens answered for the others. Darwin just stood there with a hollow look on his face as his empty eyes seemed to settle on something in the distance.

Where was the passion and strength you had a moment ago as you lectured Alex? Why aren’t you still in this conversation? Kass wanted to ask Darwin, but it felt like he wasn’t even there now, much less listening to anything that was being said.

“Hmm . . . If we can’t use him in battle, then could he go investigate who is giving out the quest. The forums have that secret quest address plastered all over them. It’s actually really close, but he’d have to sneak into the Panda King’s city to get to the place,” Daniel suggested. “Given that he’s not one of the beast races, and he has giant horns sticking out of his head, it might be a little difficult.”

“Ah, those.” Mclean looked at them. “Are there no animal men that have giant horns like that?”

“I’d say some form of man-goat or man-bull, but both of those are actually covered by the Minotaurs and Satyrs, who are White-Horns, not actually part of the Animal Kingdom. Even if he were a Minotaur, he’d stick out like a world-famous athlete showing up to pee-wee football tryouts.” Daniel shrugged. “We could try making him super cloaky like he was a beggar and hope the game’s designers are too deep into poorly-written and inaccurate assassin history to program the NPCs to notice such an obvious disguise.”

“Hmm . . . Actually, about clothes, Darwin, you are taller, aren’t you?” Kass asked, sizing him up and down for a moment.

“Yeah? I guess I am.” Darwin snapped back to reality when his name was mentioned, and, after a moment, he answered the question.

“Well, I’m just gonna say it: You need a longer bathrobe again. I don’t think your flap protection is sufficient to save our poor eyes!” Kass jokingly covered her eyes with her hands. “If we don’t get this fixed, my poor retinas will be ruined for life.”

“I don’t think the view is so bad.” Minx looked over at Kass with a weird, almost innocent, childlike grin. “It’s almost like what you see when you go to the Internet and type--”

Kitchens took one horrified look at Minx, then at Darwin and then stopped Minx and declared without hesitation: “We fix this RIGHT AWAY! No questions asked! Darwin, go to a tailor and solve your wardrobe malfunction, or the next fight we have is to the death!”

Everyone chuckled at the poor father as he guided Darwin all the way back inside the dungeon with a murderous aura. Poor guy, his daughter has probably done way more than he even realizes. Kass almost giggled out loud, but managed to stifle the urge and only smiled instead.

“Tee-hee. See what I did there? You all do, yes?” Minx had an ear-to-ear, mischievous grin that let the whole group know that was planned.

“What? So it wasn’t a nice view?”

“Oh no, it was. Kass, Valerie, Mclean . . .” She listed off their names one by one while scrunching up her eyebrows and putting on a serious face. “Do you want to know details? I saw everything.”

“Oh, really? Tell me more,” Mclean was stopped when Kass smacked her right arm.

“We are not having this talk!” Kass said. “Right, Valerie?” Valerie, however, had frozen up. Wow, your face is as red as your . . . Wait. “Valerie, when did you get red eyes?”

“Yeah, did you put in contacts in real life? And they bled over into the game? Or wait, how did you give your character a makeover?” Mclean asked. “Does that mean I could get purple eyes in the game?!”

“Oh umm . . . I don’t know how this happened,” Valerie said as she self-consciously touched her face. “It just happened, and I don’t know why.”

Is she sad or happy about it? Kass wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. It seemed like Valerie wanted to cry, but all that had been mentioned was the fact that she had red eyes. Was this what she was asking about earlier when I first ran into her? Was this the difference she was expecting me to notice? This is so weird. If she was able to change her eye color, why does she look like she’s about to tear up?

“It’s probably from being in this guild so long. Maybe, over time, we’ll get red eyes too.” Daniel laughed and patted Valerie on the back like her new crimson irises were no big deal. “Don’t sweat the details. Anyway, back to this whole quest deal. I think our best game plan is to make a post on the forum and then pray for the best. We can offer EXP and items as rewards for those who join our cause. Hopefully, if we pitch this correctly, players will see us as a good source for both of those. But how do we stop the potential betrayal?”

“Yeah, they may treat this as an event where they can get both quest rewards,” Mclean said with a frown. “Unless we kill them all and do it properly.” After saying that, she pulled out her daggers and stabbed the air a few times. Minx joined in with her, shouting ‘yeah’ and mimicking Mclean’s knife play. “Just leave it to me. I’ll cut every one of them down, and the EXP will be all mine!” Mclean boasted.

“And mine!” Minx enthusiastically agreed. “You have to share with me too!”

“Enough, guys. This isn’t really the time to joke around.” Daniel’s voice almost sounded scolding as he tried to stop the two, his face as stern as ever.

“Daniel, it’s just like Darwin said: We don’t have a choice in the matter. We have to have faith in the players that sign up with us, that they won’t kill NPCs. But it’s not like it’ll be hard to make sure they don’t successfully go turncoat, you know?” Mclean shrugged.

“Huh?” Daniel asked, and even Kass found her face twisted up in confusion.

What am I missing? How will this not be difficult? Kass wondered, desperately trying to put the pieces together.

“Look, avoiding them backstabbing us for this specific quest is going to be easy. It’ll be just like that time I gained five pounds over winter and wanted to lose weight by cutting out all the sugar in my diet.” Mclean pinched her belly. Kass wasn’t certain how her real-life figure looked, but her in game avatar didn’t have an ounce of fat to pinch. “I don’t have any willpower, so when I wanted to make sure I didn’t eat any sugar, all I did was not buy any. That simple.”

“That’s . . .” Kass’s eyes shot open wider than a lawyer’s mouth when she was trying to defend herself. “That’s brilliant!”

“Oh . . .” Daniel grimaced, almost like he was cursing himself for not figuring it out sooner. “So all we need to do is move the objective out of reach. Then we won’t have to worry about people turning on us to achieve it,” he said and nodded. “Mclean, don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not the smartest one in the group.”

“Psh. You talkers always think that violence first makes for slower wit. It just means I don’t bog myself down with unnecessary details. Right, Minx? Now, all that Minx and I have to do is stab them all to death!” She threw a few more air stabs and then helped Minx back on top of Fuzzy Wuzzy.

“Alright, so, since the two objectives are a non-existent Hell-portal and Darwin, we really just only need to get rid of Darwin without him realizing it, I take it? So we don’t offend him?” Kass confirmed their line of thought. “It’s like we’re trying to throw a surprise birthday party for him, and we can’t let him home until the place is set up?”

“Right. Since Daniel and Kitchens already talked him into going to check out the town, we don’t have anything left to do.” Mclean’s boastful face further let them know that a lack of brains wasn’t one of her shortcomings. She had already spun an entire web while they were trying to catch the fly with chopsticks.

“Well played, well played,” Daniel laughed softly. His expression was hard to read, and Kass couldn’t tell if he was kicking himself or just admiring Mclean, but there was also a good chance it might have been a touch of both.

“We should probably also send Dad with Darwin,” Minx suggested.

“Any particular reason?” Kass asked, not entirely seeing the logic in giving up both of their most defensively-capable, front-line fighters.

“I think playing by yourself is lonely, that’s all.” Minx didn’t even look up from petting Fuzzy Wuzzy as she answered.

“True, but I could go with him instead.” Kass remembered Charles’s warning to stay by Darwin. But I haven’t accepted the offer yet, so it’s not like I have to.

“Ah, I see your plan. Just the two of you, a nice quiet adventure by yourselves, him relying on you for support and you acting like the damsel in distress at just the right moment.” With each word Mclean used to lay out the romantic encounter, Kass could feel her face start to heat up and grow flushed. The only way that Mclean could have been more obvious is if she had started singing, ‘Darwin and Kass, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.’

“I . . .” Kass wanted to cover her reddening cheeks. She could feel the blush growing by the minute. “That wasn’t my intention at all! Besides, he’s way too old for you to be joking around about us like that!” she said, falling back on a long-retired excuse.

“Are you sure he’s too old? I mean, if that were your game plan, well, I suppose Minx, Valerie and I could make do. Otherwise, I agree that Kitchens should probably be the one to go with Darwin.” Mclean’s lips slowly curved up into a devilish grin, and Kass could almost hear Mclean laughing behind her teeth. It was as if her smile were really saying, ‘Your move, Kass.’

“Why Kitchens though?” Kass decided to switch attack routes. Why am I fighting for this anyways?

“Dad spends all his free time with me. It’d be nice to see him hang out with a friend for once,” Minx replied. Fuzzy Wuzzy raised his head to nuzzle Minx as she was talking and almost knocked her off his back.

“Alright then, that’s settled. We’ll just tell the two that they’re off on a fancy quest by themselves when they get back, and the rest of us will hold down the fort and try to save the NPCs from evil questers!” Daniel’s face had lost a bit of color over the course of the conversation, but he turned things back to safer ground with a good helping of gusto.

Kass, realizing that Darwin would be spending the entire day away from her, was about to speak up and just take the bullet. Mclean’s grin finally split all the way into a laugh, and Daniel and Minx joined in as well. “Kass, you are way easier to tease about Darwin than Valerie,” Mclean said, chuckling so hard that a snort escaped.

Hmph. There’s really no shot of staying close to Darwin to get more info on Stephanie now, is there? Kass deflated like a spent balloon.

Darwin:

“Do you guys really have to change the logo and the color scheme?” Darwin grumbled at Justin Yoo. “Can we not just extend the length and reinforce the flap so Mr. Katana doesn’t kill me?”

“I want to see his bathrobe longer than a dress! It needs to go all the way down to his ankles!” Kitchens almost barked at Justin.

“Sir, we can’t do that. He still has to be able to move in combat,” Justin protested. Darwin agreed, but he wasn’t sure how to either voice his opinion or to calm the angry parent’s ire.

Did Minx even really see anything? he asked himself, sparing a glance south before looking back at the furious father. “I’m actually going to agree with Justin. I don’t need it that long.” He felt his life expectancy drop with each word.

Kitchens, glaring at him, didn’t seem to want to budge on his demands. His left eye twitched twice before he finally just let out the breath he had been holding in, causing Darwin to do the same. “Fine, fine. Make it like it was before. Just remember to take his new height into consideration this time,” Kitchens said, giving up. Then he looked at Justin and started speaking as if Darwin weren’t there. “But if our fearless leader flashes my daughter one more time, you and I are both going to be looking for a new commander.”

“Uhh . . . Okay, sir.” Justin just shifted where he stood and then looked back at Darwin. “And, yes, the new design is necessary. We have picked out one that is perfect for you. What do you think?” He handed Darwin a scroll.

Darwin opened the rolled-up parchment up to see a design in the middle of it. The image was still a circle, but this time, instead of two swords crossed over a spoon, it was an image of his zweihander stabbing into a mountain over the background of a spoon. So I guess the mountain is Lawlheima, and this is my sword. “Are you guys going to make me get a new symbol for the bathrobe every time I switch up my weapons?”

Justin looked at one of the other Demons, the tailor he had called over when he had first asked for help. They both shrugged simultaneously and looked back at Darwin with such perfect coordination that a mirror would have struggled to mimic better timing. “Absolutely,” they said together.

Kitchens’ frown cracked upwards a bit on the sides. “It must be great to have such enthusiastic followers,” he said as he nudged Darwin with an elbow.

Yeah, just great. “Wait . . . How come you got onto me but not Daniel?” Darwin voiced an obvious question he hadn’t thought about until just now.

Kitchens paused for a moment and then looked at Justin. "We need to also make sure that Daniel’s bathrobe is long enough too."

Ah, so it's just because you didn't think about him at the time, Darwin chortled to himself a bit. You didn't come to my defense, so don't expect me to come to yours, he thought as he found himself unable to suppress a smile over Daniel’s new predicament.

"Alright, well, Justin, the design looks good. Just try to get the bathrobe back as soon as possible, will you?" Darwin pleaded with Justin to rush the process as the guard darted off into the dungeon. Technically, he didn't need to. The bathrobe they had lent him to change into so that they could work on the other was perfectly adequate. The only reason for the rush was that Darwin greedily wanted the bathrobe with higher stat bonuses back so he wouldn't have to choose between the extra attribute points or the time needed to make a return trip. Well, I suppose one of them could easily bring me the bathrobe wherever I'm at like it was a pizza being delivered between spaceships in some futuristic movie . . . But that probably would lead to risks of its own, and I don't want to put tipping culture into this untainted video game world or be the first guy to stiff the delivery boy. Neither option would make me the good guy, would it? He laughed at himself again. Oh well, I can wait a few minutes, I guess.

"So are you sure that searching out this quest giver is such a good idea?" Kitchens scratched the side of his face. "It just seems like a bad idea . . . like you're upset a few worker bees are trying to attack you, so you're off to assault the hive."

"We can hope that it goes a little bit more smoothly than that, can't we?" Darwin chuckled. "But who knows? Maybe if your metaphor holds up, I'll find myself some honey."

"Are you sure that's okay to say? What if one of the girls finds out you were talking about risking your life for some new honeys?" Kitchens was the one to laugh this time. While he hadn't been doing it much earlier, Darwin should have guessed that Kitchens, being a father, would be very comfortable with bad wordplay and puns.

"Who says I am risking my life? It's not like dying in a video game will kill me in real life." Darwin felt very happy to be able to say this with confidence.

“Ah, that’s right. We have a few minutes, right?” Kitchens asked as he watched Justin fully disappear into the distance.

“Yeah, I suppose we do. Why?”

“Well, there’s still something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about . . .”

“Oh? What’s up?” Darwin wasn’t entirely in the mood for a serious conversation, but Kitchens had always been patient and heard him out, so there was no justifiable reason not to extend the same courtesy.

“Ah. Here. Hold this.” Kitchens handed him a giant wooden sword. It wasn’t nearly as large as his zweihander and resembled a wooden katana, but it was at least a foot longer and three times heavier than what someone would expect from such a weapon. Darwin had never seen or heard of such a practice weapon before.

“What’s this for?” Darwin looked at the sword, thinking that it might be a gift or something. No sooner did he open his mouth to ask why he had been handed the blade than Kitchens had already brandished one of his own and attacked him. The attack was simple, right down the middle with an overhead blow. Darwin raised his own weapon up to stop the blow, but the assault continued. The incoming sword struck Darwin’s and slid down it and off to his left. Darwin backed up and shifted his large bokken so that his hands, both of which were gripping the hilt, were on his left too.

“To help us talk,” Kitchens said as he pulled his sword in an upwards cut at Darwin, causing it to glance off his downwardly-angled blade off to the side.

“Kind of hard to talk like this though.” Darwin did his best to get out a few words as he shifted his blade upwards to block Kitchens’ next blow.

“That’s a matter of perspective,” Kitchens said with a smirk. He slammed his bokken into Darwin with a downward slice on Darwin’s right side and kicked Darwin in the stomach at the same time. Darwin momentarily dropped his defenses after being stunned by the kick, so Kitchens bopped him on the head with a quick tap of his bokken right between Darwin’s horns. “This seems rather easy to me. Wouldn’t you say?”

Darwin rubbed the spot on his head and then gripped his sword again. “This isn’t the best place to be doing this. What if I lose it again?”

“Lose it? The only thing experiencing a loss will be your sloppy form.” Kitchens showed all his teeth when he smiled, and Darwin found it a little disconcerting. “Again,” Kitchens demanded, extending his blade out with both hands.

“I don’t want to do this here.” Darwin pleaded, but his hands had already sprung into action as he struck Kitchens’ extended bokken and followed it up with a strong right to left slash. Kitchens, parrying from his left as Darwin had before, easily diverted the force and then matched it with his own pressure, attacking with the same motion he had used to parry. This time, his weapon went all the way through and knocked Darwin in the stomach whereupon Kitchens followed it up with a hit to Darwin’s back.

“You say that, but you attacked first that time.” Kitchens wasn’t just laughing and smiling: his whole face was curling up towards his eyes and ears with such a happy look that it almost looked like a kid discovering candy for the first time--or like that same kid finding out twenty years later that he no longer had diabetes. Before Darwin could fully straighten himself out and recover, Kitchens extended his wooden sword once more. “Again.”

“I’m telling you: This isn’t the right place to do this. What if something bad happens?” Darwin complained again. He held his ground for a moment this time, but his resistance was short lived. Kitchens’ sudden swing came diagonally at Darwin from his lower left. Darwin wanted to back up and parry it, but his instincts kicked in, he moved to his left this time, rotating around Kitchens, and made a thrust that nailed Kitchens right in the sternum. He expected Kitchens to grow upset, grimace or even make at least one grunt at the blow, but the other man just chuckled again. What is with this guy? He’s taking all of these risks unnecessarily. And why is he so happy right now? Has he gone mental?

“Darwin, you’re lying to yourself,” Kitchens laughed.

Where is this coming from? Why is he laughing so much? Darwin didn’t understand the sudden shift in Kitchens’ personality as the usually-zen tank-top-samurai held his sword up again, extending it straight out with both hands. Again. Yeah, yeah. I get it. Again. He grumbled to himself as he dashed forward to grab the blade with his actual hands, but the blade shifted higher as Kitchens jerked his hands upwards and to Darwin’s right. Darwin then met the bokken with his own slash and knocked it even higher and farther to his right. Taking advantage of the gap and the fact his blade was already there, he attempted to lunge forward in an attack. As soon as his blade was struck, Kitchens freed his right hand and used his palm to push the flat of Darwin’s weapon away so that it careened off in the same direction as his own sword. Darwin’s hands were both still clenching the hilt of the detouring piece of wood, leaving him wide open for Kitchens to dart in and use his elbow to strike Darwin in the solar plexus.

Crap. He’s good, Darwin thought. He wanted to sigh in frustration, but found it a bit hard between wheezes as he tried to recover his breath. “What happened to us talking?” Darwin tried reason one more time, raising his bokken to defend himself as Kitchens assumed an open stance once more. Right foot only slightly forward, left foot back, knees bent--is this always his fighting stance? He just walks at his enemies? Darwin waited for the incoming attack from the jubilant madman, who was again oddly still cackling in front of him. “I’m not lying,” Darwin insisted one more time. “I really don’t think this is the time or place.”

There was a sharp cracking sound. Darwin’s bokken was hit so hard with a fast downward cut that it almost fell out of his hands as Kitchens advanced again, following up the blow with a straight jab. “Lies, lies, lies,” he said and let out a snicker as Darwin deflected the wooden sword jabbed at him with his left hand and followed it up by shoving his own elbow into Kitchens’ chest this time.

“Why are you laughing so hard?” Darwin finally let his confusion escape his lips in an exasperated sigh.

“Why am I laughing?” Kitchens paused and scratched his left cheek for a minute. “Well, it’s because you’re over thirty years old, and you’re not even a real person. You’re too busy lying, covering yourself with a shell of other people’s identities, stringing it together through some series of expectations on how you’re supposed to behave. It’s funny.”

“I am not,” Darwin grimaced. Am I?

“Darwin, I already know who you are. You are fire--someone who has never made peace with himself, a flame that exists by burning the spirit of its own being, raging against itself endlessly.” Kitchens held his bokken out and looked up and down the blade, the cackling laughter gone, but the grin remaining. “You are a murderer.” Kitchens moved his bokken like he was going to adjust to Darwin’s left, but it was a feint as he twisted it around in a quick circular motion, Darwin’s own weapon being led astray by the fake-out until the tip of Kitchens’ sword was pressed against Darwin’s throat. “I can see it in your eyes.” Kitchens stepped back, reassuming his stance. “You’re like I was: a pyre fueled by your own soul.”

“I thought you were water?”

“Water? Hmm. Yes, I am. A man’s nature changes when he has a daughter. I was fire; now I am water. You . . . You’re still fire. You’re still lying. It’s okay. I never told myself the truth until long after I had changed, and that makes it funny for me to see it in you.” Kitchens finally lowered his blade and sighed, but he didn’t lose his jubilant expression. “Darwin, he’s about to be back, but I think you should consider our conversation.”

Consider what? All you did was attack me! “What’s there to think about?”

“You are fire. You recognize that it is your nature, but you don’t understand it. The heat is generated by the wood it burns. If you rely strictly on your own soul, you’ll wither away and die. You must consume others.” Kitchens extended a hand. Darwin wasn’t sure if he was supposed to shake it or return the extra-large, oak-colored bokken, but he figured the latter was a good bet.

“What am I supposed to do about it then? Just go ahead and eat other people’s souls? I am a Demon . . . but even I think that seems excessive.” Darwin wasn’t making heads or tails of this advice. Not to mention, I was explicitly warned not to let NPCs in the game die, not to continue NPC on NPC bloodbaths like I had previously been doing, so what is he trying to tell me to feed off of?

“When man gave up using wood, there was electricity, oils and other plants to burn. We went from burning year-old dead trees to exploding million-year-old dead dinosaurs and all the way to using giant streaks of lightning captured in cheap, finger-nailed-sized storage devices. If you don’t want your own soul to burn up to feed the flame, you don’t need to burn someone else’s. You just need to feed it somehow, and there are plenty of ways.” Kitchens had finished storing both bokken and pulled out his real sword.

Wait, he’s not going to start fighting me with a true blade, is he? Darwin felt a bit nervous, but also a bit excited. “So if it isn’t souls, what is it?” Dreams? Ambitions? Should I . . . Darwin began to understand the warning perfectly. This hadn’t been out of the blue. Kitchens was never worried about my bathrobe or concerned about the flap . . . Well, maybe he was, but more importantly, Minx’s complaint gave him the opportunity to split away and get out of sight of the others so he could explain this.

“There you go, fire. I can tell from your look that you’ve already started figuring it out. Now, when Justin comes back with your new bathrobe, let’s change and get moving. If I know my daughter, she’s already paired us off to go figure out who this quest giver is. So, since there is no changing that stubborn girl’s mind when it’s set on scheming, we might as well be prepared to flow with it,” he softly chuckled.

“Any reason why she paired us in particular?” Darwin hadn’t realized that Minx was a schemer, but Kitchens would obviously be the authority on all things Minx. So behind that overly-cutesy, fake personality is yet another plotter. He tried to think of what machinations Minx might have carried out upon him already. Why does this talk of a super-cutesy personality being used to cover up a mastermind suddenly remind me of Stephanie . . . Actually, no, don’t think about it. Darwin stopped himself before that thought went too far. After the dinner party with Charles, he knew something was up, but a bit of ignorance was bliss.

“Oh, well, she’s still been trying to get me a new friend since I lost my usual fishing buddy.” Kitchens put his hands on his lower back and popped his spine all the way down.

“You lost your fishing buddy? Is it because you spend so much time on the game with Minx?” Darwin took a stab in the dark at what the reason might be. He knew that, between work and gaming, it was unlikely Kitchens had much free time to hang out with anyone.

“Hmm . . . No, what happened was that we were playing a shoot-‘em-up on the big TV. Then Minx walked by, his whole head turned, and he locked his eyes on her rear end like steak was being dragged in front of a starving dog. I punched him out and then threw him out of the house. Haven’t talked to him since.” Kitchens said it with such a flippant tone that it sent chills down Darwin’s spine.

Note to self: Don’t even look at Minx below the nose. He carved this rule into the very core of his memory. Don’t even look at her juicy, well-formed, bouncing bubble b . . . NO! Oh no, just thinking about how I shouldn’t think about it is making me want to think about it. You twisted human psyche, what’s wrong with you? Kitchens can’t tell I was just imagining his daughter’s . . . Can he? Darwin hoped for the best, closed his eyes and counted to three.

“Don’t worry, Darwin. You haven’t looked at her once. That’s why I like you: You’re safe and have plenty of other girls to keep you occupied.” Kitchens patted him on the back.

Other girls? Why is ‘girls’ plural? I only have Stephanie right now! Wait, was that in response to my inappropriate thoughts or my silence at the fact he had knocked out his friend over just looking at her caboose? I never thought a callipygian woman would be so deadly. Darwin chortled to himself. “Alright,” Darwin said, wanting to change the subject. “I’m not good with tracking people through the forum. Do you want to just head right there and let one of the Demons tell the others where we’ve gone, or do you want to stop and make sure that Daniel and them give us the best directions?”

“For starters? Make as many of those Blue-Drakes into slaves as possible while we wait. After that, I say the two of us just head out and not worry about the others. There will be plenty of time to spend with them when we get back, right? You’ve understood my lesson, correct?” Kitchens pointed to a spawn camp that was about to reappear. There were already five spear-wielders waiting to finish them off as soon as they were tangible enough to stab, but Darwin called out for them to hold off and let him do it.

“Yeah, I get it.” Darwin ran over and shoved his burning zweihander right between the eyes of a Blue-Drake as soon as the materialization had completed enough for it to take damage. There would still be time before the dragons’ AI booted and they fought back, but, by then, they would all be his pets. I get that you’re saying that, if I’m to control this beast in me, I don’t just need the self-confidence. I also need to feed off my people’s hopes and dreams, their need to survive and their will to live on peacefully. They are my strength. I guess I wasn’t really a hundred percent honest with Alex. We do have an infinite number of recruitable defenders that aren’t players, but I can’t be doing this all day, every day, and still advance enough to protect them.

“Good,” Kitchens said as he watched Darwin go on his Blue-Drake farming escapade, slaughtering camp after camp.

When Justin finally came back, he had an extremely anxious look. “Oh, thank goodness!” he exclaimed when he saw Darwin converting another one of the flying azure lizards.

“Hmm?” Kitchens and Darwin both looked over at Justin’s frantic face.

“We already put the design for Darwin’s new logo on his bathrobe when we heard from a scout that he saw Darwin fighting in the cave with you using a different weapon, a wooden one with an entirely different shape. Considering how hard we had worked on the new logo--we had started preparing it long before the new bathrobe request came in--there was concern that it would have to be scrapped before it was ever worn,” Justin explained.

Why does he care about this logo so much? Is this an everybody-but-me thing or just an NPC thing? Does Kitchens think it is that important as well? Ugh. When it comes to this stuff, I could give less F's than an Asian printing T-shirts in English.

“So when do I get a custom logo?” Kitchens asked, answering Darwin’s question almost immediately with the good, old-fashioned, Kass-like response.

Even if she’s not here, someone will always step in to fill her place and have status envy, Darwin thought, mentally accusing Kitchens before the man elaborated further.

“I mean, shouldn’t there be separate designs for those who fight, those who build and those who cook or fill other occupations?” Kitchens’ line of questioning repainted itself as acting less like Kass and more like Daniel.

“Hmm . . .” Justin thought for a moment.

A scout with a tense but contemplative expression on his face came up to his side. “There is much wisdom in what you say. I think we shall consult Alex about this after the two of you depart,” the scout nodded.

Crap. This is supposed to be a fighting fantasy game! Not a dress up game! The words would have come across as scolding had he said them aloud, but he was actually just happily joking to himself about the whole ordeal. It appeared that, no matter which companion he got slotted with for a mission, they’d still be concerned about appearances. Then again, he too had spent a lot of time checking out black armors when he was in Valcrest because they looked cool. Wait, would Fuzzy Wuzzy also be concerned about this type of stuff? Would he, if he could speak, be demanding top hats, monocles and bear-sized tuxedos? Maybe he would want one of those dancing bear costumes instead . . . Or worse, no costume at all, just like a certain child lov-- Darwin silenced the awful thought before it reached completion. While the first steps down that trail of thought made him laugh, Fuzzy Wuzzy’s over-familiarity with Minx definitely gave him pause to worry about the dark place to which that path led. After all, Minx was the youngest-looking one in the group, and her exact age wasn’t clearly discernible. She looked like she could be somewhere between thirteen and twenty, and Fuzzy Wuzzy was definitely attached to her. We can never let Fuzzy Wuzzy see anime, Darwin quickly decided, pushing the subject out of his head yet again, hopefully once and for all.

“Hey, Justin, one more note really quick before you head out,” Darwin called out to Yoo, who had turned around and was already deep in conversation with the scout. They’re already trying to figure out which emblems would look best for each role, aren’t they?

“Yes, Great Lord Darwin?” Justin turned around sharply, immediately straightening out his posture.

“Can I trust you to send word to Kass and the others that we departed to find out who assigned the quest? They’ll understand what I mean.” Darwin turned to Kitchens. “Let’s get a move on. All that fighting made me want to kill something fully tangible.”

“Can’t run out of firewood, can we?” Kitchens laughed. For someone who had spent most of the time Darwin had known him with a very calm and unmoving expression, this change was almost unsettling. It wasn’t exactly chill-up-the-spine creepy, but rather that weird-guy-on-the-bus-with-the-funny-odor-who-you-think-may-or-may-not-be-looking-at you-or-out-the-window-behind-you uncomfortable. “Anyways, make sure to drop off the shield bots we picked up earlier with Alex. They’re definitely going to need them in the battles to come.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to drop them off without us being here to protect them from being eaten?” Darwin joked at Mclean’s expense. She may have been generous enough to eat only certain monsters, saving the best for the rest of the guild, but she had still chain-eaten snow cones all the way from the dungeon back to the mountain.

“It’ll be fine,” Kitchens said and then paused a moment. “It should be fine. . . Right?”

“Hey, speaking of snacks, if we’re going back to the main town, we should really look into getting some more of those chocolate chip cookies.”

“Indeed. We should get enough for the whole group.”

“We’re not going to have to share with them all though, are we?”

“Of course not. I won’t tell if you don’t.” Kitchens and Darwin laughed as they began their adventure back to the city that had lost its best men trying to kill them.

Chapter 5 – Cape Not Included

Valerie:

Valerie couldn’t help but worry a little as she sat quietly listening to the group of players who were eating and chatting around her. They know. They know that you’re different, a voice seeped through Valerie’s thoughts, seeding anxiety. Yeah, maybe they do, she thought back. You can try all you want, but you’re not the same quiet girl they’ve gotten used to talking to, came the reply. Well, maybe so, but I’m managing to be pretty quiet right now, she shot back at the nagging voice. Her new, unaccounted-for confidence won out, and her worry was replaced by a constant unease that sat humming like a low buzz in the back of her mind. For some reason, the reticence and self-consciousness that usually kept her on edge and made her doubt herself seemed like they just took too much effort at the moment. She wasn’t used to feeling relaxed or in control, but for some reason, she did now. She had her ups and downs in Tiqpa, and they were often rather extreme ones, but this was neither a high nor a low. She felt unusually collected--as if her companions were more under her observation for once, and she was less under theirs. Ever since she had woken up with a moving leg, she had felt different. It was like her thoughts had changed, like she wasn’t quite the same person. Before, it was like she had been drunk and tired, worn out and dazed by self-pity and an unshakeable hyper-awareness of her disability. Each thought had been strained and competed with too many others, most of which were born out of unrelenting self-assessment.

Now, however, things were strangely clear. She was finally sober, awake and alive. Daniel, your arm is not a napkin, Valerie thought as she noticed Daniel wipe his mouth off with his left arm. He didn’t even get all of the mess off his lips either. Maybe a pig snout would suit you better than bird wings. Valerie’s lips curled up into a slight grin, which she hid by pretending to rub an itchy nose as she continued watching the people sitting around her.

“So, serious question: Why is it that every time you see lasers in a movie, you actually see the laser?” Daniel asked, continuing to whittle away at some Drake meat on a stick while the gang waited. They hadn’t exactly made a campfire in front of the fortifications, but they had set up some chairs and were just staring out at the woods, holding fast until any signs of danger were reported by the scouts circling above the woods on their riders. “Shouldn’t the laser, you know, move at the speed of light? Be nearly impossible to catch with the naked eye?”

“Oh, you mean those sci-fi movies where the lasers all look like fat Nerf bullets traveling as fast as a well-kicked soccer ball?” Mclean asked, enjoying her own stick of meat. “It’s for the space cowboys, galactic Indians and movie-goers.”

“Huh?” Kass, the only one not eating anything besides Valerie, snapped back into the conversation. While everyone else was focused on watching the woods for a sign of danger or some mysterious bad guy that might pop out, Valerie couldn’t help but notice Kass wasn’t. She kept nervously turning her head and glancing at the Demons who were steadfastly laboring over the fortifications around the city.

Something's wrong with her, she guessed. Remember, Tim always warned you to watch the ones who were watching closest--not that it saved him from being stabbed in the back . . . or stopped you from getting him killed. Her mind betrayed her with another jab at her heart.

“When it comes to movies, space is just another setting where we can tell our stories and pretend like mankind matters.” Mclean paused to take another bite. “Like heroes could make the difference between life and death in some epic journey of discovery or redemption.”

“What does that have to do with the cowboys and Indians though?” Kass asked, not getting the picture that Mclean was drawing.

How does Darwin like you when you’re this simple, Kass? You react more than act. If you had just waited, Mclean would have explained it. She’s that type of person. You’d have gotten your explanation without having to needlessly broadcast your inability to connect the dots. Valerie sighed and squinted her closed eyes. The real question is: How has Kass not given me a headache before today? She laughed to herself, the frustration fading as she smirked at her own joke.

“Well? Isn’t that what it’s all about? People don’t want to go to a movie theater and see real space combat where computers calculate everything that is and will happen. It amplifies the useless and utterly inconsequential nature of humanity. They want to see the epic story of good versus evil, their favorite handsome-faced protagonist saving the day through a string of lucky feats, quick wits and serendipitous timing that only he could pull off. They want to see the ragtag band of cowboys save the world from a wave of angry Indians with a good quick-draw scene--except this time in space and with lasers.” Mclean took another bite. “It’s much better than the reality, than the helplessness that they have to endure on a day to day basis as they trudge through an existence where death, progress and the future are neither controllable nor predictable.”

“Isn’t that why we are playing fantasy games?” Daniel said, reinforcing the point.

“True, but it’s also why the lasers in space move so slowly that a professional soccer player could block almost all of them.” Mclean looked disappointingly at the bare bone where a full leg of meat had once been.

“You don’t eat that much in real life, do you?” Valerie asked, laughing at her winged friend.

“Oh, God, no! Calorie counting is hell though. I thought I’d have fun here. I want to try every beer they have!” she exclaimed excitedly and then looked around. “As soon as we get out of this situation, I guess.”

Now that’s the right kind of simple. Know what you want and know when you’re going to get it. Valerie smiled. She’s a reliable person with a good understanding of the world. I can use her. She found herself slightly taken aback by the last three words at first, but then slightly amused. ‘Use.’ Yes, ‘use.’ Isn’t that what I’ve been doing anyway? Just using these people for emotional and experiential crutches? It’s a bit psycho-bitch, I guess, but there is no need to feel depressed if there are people I can maneuver to avoid it. Her grin began to spread wider, but then stopped. No, control your emotions. Don’t let them see that you’ve changed. People hate change, people need things to move so slow they don’t notice it until it’s far enough along that they can’t miss the old. Valerie, you’ve gotta boil the frog nice and slowly for these guys. Don’t want to suddenly end up in hot water yourself, do you? She forced a timid and weak expression back onto her face. Let’s hope this is how I would normally look, she thought as she consciously made small micro adjustments to her face.

Kass opened her mouth to say yet another stupid and simple thing when Valerie heard something that caused her to ignore her vapid guildmate. They’re in the woods. They’re coming for us, she thought, looking to the mounted scouts flying above. They were still gliding through the air, circling over the surroundings. How did they not see anything? There are a lot of them coming to kill us, she thought as she found herself listening to the sounds of crunching leaves. It wasn’t that monsters didn’t also produce that sound, but when a monster did it, it was haphazard and bore no rhythm or set beat. This was planned stomping, the crushing of the fallen leaves and grass in a systematic fashion, the beats organized in a way that only man produced.

Valerie looked over and saw Minx staring in the same direction as her. So the little kitty can hear it too, she laughed to herself. She could tell that many people thought Minx was slow, dull-witted and painfully stupid, but never once took into account that this was a game. Minx was role-playing like the rest of them. Or, at least, that was the only way Valerie could make sense of her constantly changing personality.

Is Minx going to say something, or should I? Valerie wondered, but then something else caught her eye. It was Tim walking out of the forest from another direction. He looked like an angel with his majestic wings and sculpted face as he ran out of the woods to her left, trying to say something. No sooner had he run out of the woods than he jerked to a halt. This has to be a memory of when he came to save me. When he kissed me . . . When he . . . Tim opened his mouth and blood came out. When he died.

Why am I remembering this now? Valerie wondered, looking around Tim for clues. Tim was stabbed in the back by someone he didn’t see coming. That’s right! What if there is more than one group coming? What if this group is noisy, but the other one isn’t? Perhaps, like Tim, the first group will reach its prize only to discover far too late that there is another party at play and that its knife will sink too deeply for them to act. “If that’s the case . . .” she mumbled, almost inaudibly, to herself. “If that’s the case, the second group would be easy to pick off after the conflict. We’d go from fighting two hard groups to one injured one . . .” she finished her thought aloud. The others, who had still been playing at the conversation where Mclean explained, Daniel listened and Kass spoke before thinking, all stopped and looked at Valerie.

“What’s up, Val?” Daniel asked, looking over in the direction she was facing.

“We’re going to get attacked. There are two groups coming at us. They aren’t together though . . .” Valerie trailed off as her mind drew a map of where and when they’d hit. Their paces, the sounds, were coming at a steady rate. One group was quiet, and the other was noisy, but they were almost even in size.

“They’re coming from two different directions?”

“Yeah, and their makeup isn’t identical at all. They will hit us in waves if we stay here. They will be separated by about ten or fifteen minutes.” Valerie was doing the math in her head faster than she knew she was even capable of. “They will catch us off guard and kill us easily,” she stated, not as a threat but as a fact. This wasn’t going to be a fight that would go their way, but she knew what she had to do. She had to show one of them hope, and let them stab the other group in the back. I have to Tim one of them . . . Did I just use Tim as a verb? She laughed to herself and then sighed. Okay, now how do I get this plan to work while using this motley crew of damage dealers and scouts. She looked out into the trees. Do I even need them? They will just slow me down. But if I keep them here and let them do nothing . . . then they might actually serve a purpose and be useful as something other than the deadweight they’d currently be in a large-scale fight. Except Kass. That chick’s ice spells are okay. That’s perfect. That’s exactly what I need to do, she thought, excited by her idea.

“Kass, grab a mount. We’re heading out,” Valerie said with a smile and then took up into the air. “The rest of you, stay here and defend the fort. Try to hold everyone off without using Alex.”

Now, all I need to do is position them right and then lie. Valerie felt happier by the minute as the plan came together in her head.

“Come on, Toothifer!” Kass called out without a moment’s hesitation. “I need a mount!” As soon as she called, a giant Blue-Drake came bounding over to her. It was just like a dog lick-attacking a master who had been away.

Valerie, not wanting to watch the messy scene of Drakely affection, took off in the direction of the closest group. Alright, let’s get there quickly. “You coming, Kass?” she shouted behind her, and the sound of the Blue-Drake’s flapping wings answered her question almost as soon as she even asked it.

They move and follow without being asked. That’s good, Valerie thought as she flew closer to her target. She didn’t have to explain anything. Everyone just trusted her. Alright, now to make sure phase two will work. “Kass, you have an Area of Effect snare, right?” Valerie made sure to double check. Everything was hinging on the assumption that she would have a skill to match their need.

“Yeah. I have one, I guess,” Kass answered.

You guess? How do you not know if you have an ability or not? Valerie wanted to facepalm. “Well, what attack do you have?”

“Winter is Coming. It’s kind of a ground-root-snare. The problem is that it takes a while to actually cast, and it can only hit so many people at once,” Kass explained.

“Could you use it to slow a group of about thirty to forty people down by about ten minutes?” Valerie asked, needing the numbers to match up correctly.

“No, not at all. The most I could stall them is roughly five to six, give or take. If I try any longer, then I’m going to get shot out of the sky or just murdered outright,” she grimaced.

So, even if you talk without thinking, when you do think, you’re not so bad at knowing your own limitations. Alright, let’s see how far off you are from that number. “That will have to do.”

“Should I start channeling it so it's ready when we arrive?” Kass asked.

“You can do that?” Valerie looked at her strangely. This wasn’t something she had read about on the boards. In fact, one of the biggest weaknesses of the mage class was that they were almost completely ineffective for several minutes at a time during a large-scale fight--unless they went the one-on-one route, at which point other damage dealing classes generally had an advantage in output potential.

“Yeah, I actually figured out how to do it when we were leveling the other day,” Kass beamed triumphantly. “Once I got the trick, it actually didn’t seem that hard.”

You just figured out how to do something that no-one can reportedly duplicate? What the . . . Valerie started to fume, but then relaxed, calming herself down. Some people are just born with very specialized gifts, I suppose. Although, her father does work for the game developers, so a bit of nepotism might be involved. “Alright, start channeling it now. Make sure the effect is as big as possible.”

“Okay, let’s do this!” Kass excitedly grabbed her staff and began her channeling.

What was bothering her at the base that isn’t now? Valerie knew she was missing a piece in this mood shift. What is she worried about when she’s near the base that has her constantly looking over her shoulder? “That’s the spirit. I’m going to rush ahead and bring them to this spot. Aim it on the ground right there.” Valerie pointed to a large clearing. “When you get to the point where your area of effect snares won’t work anymore, just dash as fast as you can back to Minx and them to play defense.” Before Kass could even give an affirmative reply, Valerie took off in the direction of the first oncoming group.

Valerie looked down at her arm. Hmm. . . Right now, I won’t sell it at all, she thought, remembering her plan. Okay, how about this. She took a branch, used it to gash her own shoulder and then finished the flight, blood trickling down her arm and dripping onto the leaves below. As she closed in on the group, which wasn’t more than two minutes away from the position where she had left Kass, she started yelling, “QUICK! QUICK! The boss is almost dead, but so is our group! We need help quick! We’ll split the reward. Come on! Hurry!” she pleaded in her best desperate voice, hoping her battered appearance and the promise of reward would scuttle their brains too fast to think straight.

“We’re coming!” one of the stone-covered men yelled, dashing after her.

“Come on! Hurry!” Valerie yelled at the group. “One of the mini-bosses is chasing me!”

“Don’t worry! We’ll save you! But we better get a good split of this reward!” the Earth-Walker said as he and his guild followed Valerie back to Kass’s location.

When Valerie finally returned to Kass with the group, the spell was complete. The Earth-Walker and his guildmates were caught in the chains of ice that sprung out of the ground. Seeing the spell go off without a hitch, Kass turned away and ran back to the base.

Excellent. Valerie smiled as she pretended to be caught in the trap too. “Crap! That was her!” Valerie shouted at the Earth-Walkers. “That’s the mini-boss!”

“The timer on that spell is ridiculous. That boss must be over Level 50! You said your group got the main boss down real low? Are you sure we can finish him and the mini-boss off?” the Earth-Walker asked, looking genuinely concerned.

“I am pretty sure we can. Have you tried fighting him before?” Valerie asked, not knowing if they had any idea what the boss would look like. If they know what he looks like, we’ll have to change the dialogue up, but we can still pull the plan off.

“Yeah, we fought him earlier. He came out of nowhere, flanked us from behind and ate our back line up.” The Earth-Walker stopped his struggle against the ice chains to grimace for a minute.

Valerie, seeing how effective the ice chains were at holding the group in place, had to give it to Kass and the spell. It seems that your level really does make a difference in how effective snares are. It’s not like the chains would hold them in place this long if these guys were taking damage, but no-one’s attacking them, and the group isn’t smart or brave enough to attack themselves to help break the snares. Everything is going just as planned. She felt a maniacal laughter well up in her but did her best to stifle it since letting it out wouldn’t be good for the character she was playing.

“Literally? He ate your herd like it was cows, like, literally? That doesn’t sound pleasant. Luckily, he hasn’t eaten any of us yet.” She didn’t lie. Given that they weren’t even fighting Darwin, she could claim he wasn’t using any number of attacks and still be within the boundaries of truth--not that she planned on letting truth limit her freedoms anyway.

“It wasn’t,” he said and shuddered, again making Valerie think he had been one of the victims.

The group broke free after a little over five minutes, but Valerie stopped them again. “Hold on!” Valerie threw her hand up to stall the group, which was about to charge right towards the base. “Maybe we should take a detour? I mean, if we head straight towards that base, there is a good chance the little ice missy is going to be waiting for us with another trap. She just wants to stall us until the devilish King of Demons heals up. If we zigzag around her, she won’t be able to predict our path since she isn’t chasing me anymore. We might make it there without having to fight her at all.”

“That’s . . . That’s not a bad idea,” the leader said again.

Only one of them talks, and the rest follow. They must be experienced raiders from another game. That’s the only time I see this much organization and adherence to silence in video games--when people are raiding in good groups. “Great, let’s go!” Valerie made sure to be the one leading the band, hoping to time it just right so that the group would show up exactly when she wanted it to. Right when-- Valerie paused. She saw the Fire-Walker boss that she, Daniel and Mclean had once fought slamming into the ground and pushing up a ring of fire. She remembered its speed and the heat that had consumed her and burned her alive. It was the first time she had died in-game.

That fire toasted all three of us like s’mores at a camp fire . . . As she looked around, she remembered the agony of the flames dancing up her body and the smell of her own burnt flesh still clinging to her nostrils. He had been so angered by me that he didn’t even bother fighting the other two until I was dead . . . An idea popped into her head as she watched the Fire-Walker vanish before her eyes.

“I have to be honest with you people since you’ve been helpful so far.” She lifted up further in the air. They’re so organized. They’re so obedient to the leader. Such a perfect raid group . . . I wonder how mad they’ll be now. She didn’t bother containing her laughter as she picked up higher and higher into the sky. “This time, victory will come!”

“That’s the spirit! Let’s get this King of Demons while he’s still low!” the Earth-Walker shouted his approval, not understanding what she was talking about.

Without giving him a moment to react, she halted in the air and dove as fast as she could with all her might. The Earth-Walker, his Jotunns, Grendel-Kin and the entire army watched in silence as her attack rocketed into the middle of the leader’s chest and pushed him into the ground like he was a seed being planted hastily by a rushed farmer.

“What the heck!” one of the others shouted. Their unified silence and careful attention was shattered in an uproar as they broke into chaos and rushed towards her.

Valerie pushed off the freshly-buried corpse and started heading towards the base as fast as she could, utilizing every skill she had to make the escape faster.

That dive was harder to do than it should have been, she noted. She was still satisfied with the result but slightly troubled by how she had been forced to think about every step of a skill that should have been intuitive. It didn’t even do as much damage as it should have, she grumbled to herself as she flew, now aware that even her flight speed had slowed down a bit compared to what it had been before. Flying towards the rampart with the enemies hot on her trail, she also couldn’t help but notice the occasional feathers that flew off of her wings as she pressed onwards. Nevertheless, she still couldn’t help but laugh at the look of shock the poor guild leader had worn just moments before his demise.

“Come on! Keep up, lover boys!” she taunted, laughing at them the whole time. “You’ll never catch a girlfriend if you move that slow.” She mocked them as she performed a barrel roll.

It was as exhilarating as it had been the first time she flew through the sky unhindered. This time, however, she felt even more free than she had then. After all, back then, she had a different kind of shackle chaining her to the ground. They hate me. They hate me so much, she cackled to herself. They hate me so much that they won’t even see it coming.

“Kass! Fight them, but don’t snare them!” she shouted as she flew to where Kass, Minx and Daniel were waiting for her.

“Fight them? There’s too many!” Kass complained,

“Just do it! We only need to hold them off a minute! Minx, make sure Alex pulls the Blue-Drakes back and has them circle around and attack on my mark. We’re going to win this!” Valerie giggled. This is fun. The fight was about to start. She had perfectly organized the deaths of over a hundred people, and she just couldn’t stop herself from feeling excited. This is a lot of fun.

Darwin:

“Have you picked your Level 60 skills yet?” Kitchens asked as the two made their way through the forest.

“No, not yet. I usually do it when I level up, but I’ve put it off until I have time to think about it without making an entire group wait on me,” Darwin shrugged.

“How about now then? You might end up needing the skill if the encounter proves to be violent.” Kitchens stopped running and waited for Darwin to do likewise. As Darwin also broke pace and came to a halt, Kitchens walked over to him.

“Alright, are you going to do the same?”

“Maybe, I am still not sure what I want to do with my class system. On one hand, I am compelled to maintain the most challenging gameplay possible and see how far my blade alone can carry me. On the other hand, I’m also hungry to be the most powerful player in existence. Currently, when you’re in your transformative stage, I can’t match you. I did everything I could just to stay even with you on the battlefield last time. But if I were to pick a focus and some skills, perhaps I could give you a run for your money.” Kitchens looked at his blade. “It just still feels like it would be admitting defeat. Perhaps I’ll get one later.”

“Fair enough, but since I’ve already picked up a few, there doesn’t seem to be an issue with grabbing one more, right?” Darwin said, opening up his skill menu to see what the Level 60 options would be.

Please choose between one of these abilities:

Cheap Dining and Quick Eats (Passive) – Consuming the flesh or blood of players during combat will restore 25% of missing health and boost damage by 5% (fades after 300 seconds out of combat, damage bonus does not stack).
For some people, it’s hard to tell the difference between when they’re having a meal on the run and when they’re running down a meal.

The Five Second Rule! (Passive) – After killing an enemy, restore 50% of all damage the enemy inflicted in the five seconds prior to his death.
People always say that if you drop the ball, just pick it up and try again. Why do they insist on the same not being true for food? If you pick the food up within five seconds, it’s still good, right?

“Something wrong?” Kitchens asked, probably noticing the grimace Darwin made as he read the first option.

Consuming flesh or blood from a player? Darwin wanted to feel sick. He didn’t, but he knew it was the right reaction. Who eats their enemies during combat? he started to ask himself until he remembered the last fight. He suddenly remembered the feeling of his teeth sinking into his prey, ripping the flesh free. So maybe it wouldn’t be a useless skill after all . . . He sighed.

“I have to choose between one skill that seems overpowered and one skill that doesn’t,” Darwin said to Kitchens with a frown.

“And you don’t want to pick the overpowered one because . . .” Kitchens looked somewhat confused.

“Well, it requires me to eat my enemies during combat.” Darwin laughed at his own situation.

“Ah, and you’re worried you’ll get indigestion?”

“It could also taste bad?”

“You won’t know until you try though?”

“I’m pretty sure I already have.”

“Come now, don’t say that. Haven’t your parents ever taught you? Every person is unique. Why wouldn’t their flavor be too?”

“Sadly, I hope it’s not the case. The last one didn’t actually taste bad . . .”

“In real life, you’re not a therapist or a fan of chianti, are you?”

“No, why?”

“No reason, but I’m still going to avoid your dinner parties. Either way, you should probably just go with the skill that’s stronger.”

“This coming from a guy who hasn’t picked a single skill yet so that the game would be harder?”

“Well, that’s different. I’m not the leader of a guild that’s counting on me to win every fight so their morale doesn’t shake,” Kitchens responded with a shrug. “If I were, well, I probably would have made the decision a long time ago. Or if they had a class that allowed for the production of infinite sake and tea . . .”

“Your priorities are pretty set in stone, aren’t they?”

“As long as family is first, I shouldn’t be judged for what comes second, should I?” he mused, pulling a bottle out of his inventory as he said it. “Think we have time for just one glass while we travel?”

“I don’t think so.” Darwin pointed at a wall in the distance. It wasn’t too close, but it was still clearly visible. “I think we’re already here.”

“I see. Then you should probably stop lollygagging and pick a skill already,” Kitchens said, putting the bottle up. The disappointment in his eyes was clear.

“Alright,” Darwin agreed. Tiqpa, I pick the skill Cheap Dining and Quick Eats. The skill glowed for a minute as the other option turned gray and then both of them floated back to their respective places on the large skill tree.

When they finally reached the town, Darwin stopped and asked Kitchens, “So, how do you expect we get in? Do you just wanna climb the wall and hope a sentry doesn’t notice us?”

“We could wait for a caravan to go through and hop in the back. I’ve heard that works pretty well in some movies.” Kitchens pointed to the gate where merchants were bringing their goods in and out.

“You sure you don’t just want to climb the wall? I still think our odds might be better.” Darwin wasn’t even suggesting it out of stubbornness. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find a densely populated section on the ramparts. He was actually very confident the two of them could sneak over unnoticed, perhaps due to a shortage of troops after the Panda King’s disappearance.

“If you’re asking me if I’d rather sit in a nice comfortable wagon and sip my sake while someone drives me through the gate unnoticed by the sleeping guards or spend the better part of half an hour struggling to sneak over a wall unnoticed like we were playing a console stealth game that forgot to add the oddly well-placed stack of cardboard boxes to hide behind, then I’m going to have to go with the cart.” Kitchens shook his head as he chuckled at Darwin.

“You really have given up that need for a challenge today, haven’t you?” Darwin said resignedly. Kitchens was right, but the plan was mostly hinged on the driver neither minding the extra passengers nor recognizing their faces. If he even started to put up a protest, Darwin would have to stab him where he stood just to be on the safe side, and the idea of needlessly killing an NPC just didn’t sit well with him.

“Just stay quiet and follow me,” Kitchens said as they got closer to the road.

Darwin crouched down and did his best to mimic Kitchens’ movements. He almost hugged the ground as he mimicked the other man, moving in and out among the trees without making a sound. It was all rather graceful, but for Darwin, who was a lumbering oaf due to his size and weight, Kitchens’ sneakiness was almost impossible to duplicate.

As they finally found themselves only a dozen feet at most from the road, Kitchens stood still and waited as one wagon or carriage after the other passed. Finally, without giving any prompt or notification, he stood up and walked in front of one of the vehicles. “Good sir, my friend and I are rather tired from walking all day. Do you mind allowing us a lift on the back of your wagon?”

“Not at all! Hop on in!” The driver, an old Feline man, didn’t even look the slightest bit agitated as he waved the two into the wagon.

“Thank you so much. We’ll be happy to pay you for the trouble. You’re a real lifesaver.” Kitchens lightly bowed his head, as did Darwin, and the two hopped in the back. As soon as they were comfortably seated, Kitchens pulled out his sake. “See? No problems at all,” he said as he took a sip.

“How did you know he’d say yes? Or that the other ones wouldn’t?”

“He’s a Feline, so he’s more likely to be friendly to me in this game with the way racism is built into this beast city. Not to mention, his load was non-existent, so he’s on the return trip after selling everything off. He has to be in a good mood. Lastly, he wasn't wearing a ring, so no wife. It might not seem like an important detail, but a man without a wife to return home to isn’t going to be in as big a rush.” Kitchens nodded in agreement with his own logic and then took another sip of sake. “Also, he just seemed like a nice guy.”

Darwin had to admit he was rather impressed with the line of reasoning. “You’ve done this type of thing before?”

“A few times.” Kitchens didn’t offer any more details than that, but he did pull out another bottle of sake and offer it to Darwin.

Once they actually made it into the town, it didn’t take more than ten minutes of wandering around the city for Darwin to find the right place. Despite the difficulty of looking around while wearing the painfully obvious brown hoodie he had made quickly out of a sleeping merchant’s mat, he was still able to spot the brown door from what felt like a mile away.

“So this is the place?” Darwin stopped at the wooden door.

“It would seem so,” said Kitchens and turned his head a few times, “but I still can’t shake that feeling that we’ve been followed.”

“Just a feeling though, right?” Darwin knew that worries like this were sometimes driven from overlapping experiences--like wondering if you left the door unlocked today or if it was yesterday that you forgot to protect the entry way. The memory of forgetting was real, but when it happened wasn’t, and that had often made Darwin triple and quadruple check his front door. Sometimes, he would even turn around, go back home and check one more time just to make sure that the door was secure. This is why he felt that Kitchens, someone who had clearly experienced war, might just be acting paranoid when he said that he thought they were being followed. Then again, Kitchens hadn’t said that during any of their previous journeys. So maybe he’s not just being paranoid. Darwin glanced at him. But I haven’t seen or heard anything since we left.

“Just a gut feeling . . . and one I can’t shake at that.” Kitchens’ eyes darted side to side again, his head swiveling as he checked one more time for someone who might be trailing them. Seemingly satisfied, he placed his hand firmly on the door, ready to push it open. “Are you ready for this?” he said as he looked over his shoulder at Darwin.

“You mean, ‘Do I have enough control over myself to not rip one of the guys trying to kill my people in half before solving my problem?’” Darwin asked, already familiar with the lecture. ‘Don’t kill people in the city if you can help it. You’ll get us found out, stir up more trouble than good, and it might spark even more quests to kill us,’ Kitchens had warned. But the warning was so I wouldn’t stir up trouble with the city. If I can kill this person without getting caught . . . The thought curled Darwin’s lips upwards into a fiendish smirk. No, don’t think like that. We’re just here to stop the quest, he checked himself.

“Something like that, yes. Let’s go.” Kitchens pushed open the door to reveal an entirely wooden room. Every surface was plain brown and lacked any sign of the ornate designs that littered the walls of the surrounding buildings. Then, smack dab in the middle of the room, he saw a dark-haired woman sitting and holding a tall glass of wine.

“Sister . . .” Darwin’s lips moved in unison with his brain, the shock breaking the filter between the two.

“That’s your sister?” Kitchens said in a hushed aside to Darwin.

“What are you doing here?” Darwin finished the thought, quickly coming to grips with her betrayal. “It’s you, isn’t it? It’s you that assigned the quest to kill my people. Why? Why would you kill what you set me on the path to save and create?”

Eve’s mouth hung half-open as she stared at Darwin. A long moment passed between the two in silence. Darwin probably would have felt upset, angry, or even properly emotional about the topic if he had known her in any capacity. She was his sister, after all, but those were just words to him. Even her husband, his brother-in-law Charles, wasn’t more than an acquaintance at the moment.

“Other people’s family reunions aren’t something one goes to by choice, so I’ll be right outside.” Kitchens turned around, opened the door and left the way they came in. “Give me a shout if you need me,” he said quietly right before the door shut behind him.

“You stink of that woman,” Eve finally said, taking a gulp of her wine. “Her smell is all over you.”

“That woman? You mean Stephanie? My girlfriend?” Darwin hadn’t exactly slept around, so the number of options were small, but the disdainful comment still may have referred to one of his party members. Darwin remembered vividly how much Eve had disliked Kass.

Eve’s rigid face cracked into a loud cackle. “Your girlfriend?” She managed to spit out the words with obvious vitriol between the breaths of her overdone bursts of laughter. “Your girlfriend . . . That’s rich.”

“What’s wrong with that? Wasn’t it you who told me where to find her?” Darwin walked up and took the seat opposite to Eve. “Didn’t you send me to her for a favor?”

“Send you to her?” Her gigglish cackle never ceased. “I sent you to kill the medusa boss of a dungeon, not to meet with that backstabbing traitor.”

“You’re calling her a backstabber, but, last I checked, she didn’t put together a quest that encouraged players to kill my people and destroy my home.” Darwin must have hit a note because, as soon as he said that, Eve’s face twisted back into the mouth-half-open expression of shock he had seen when he first walked in.

“I tried to give you the happy ending, Darwin, to let you have a people and to let you spend the rest of your days in this world worry free. You would have had an eternity to play games with your niece--a wonderful happy-ever-after for you. Stephanie is the one who forced my hand.” Her words seemed half-filled with regret, half-filled with anger. “If that portal gets destroyed, then I’ll even stop anything from killing that guild of yours myself. If not, don’t worry too much. After a century, the death of people today will seem like nothing more than a few whispers in a wind. You’ll only regret that they died without even being able to remember their faces or who they were. Trust me on this.”

“What kind of offer is this? You want me to destroy my way home and live the rest of my existence in a game? Just because a sister I’ve met once in my entire life said so?” Darwin couldn’t believe the woman’s gall.

“I want you to do it because I know you care about humanity. You’re not like her. You don’t want to see every man on earth killed or turned into one of us, cursed with the endless cycle of bloodshed that stains our people’s past.” Eve’s words may have been spoken calmly, but her narrowed eyes and the gritted teeth let Darwin know exactly how riled up she was.

If she’s asking me to do it, then that means she can’t do it herself, Darwin thought to himself with a grin. She needs me to betray my people because she can’t touch them. I have the upper hand as long as I say no. He felt rather confident in his conclusion. “You mean the insanity? Charles is solving it. I’ve been controlling it with his help.” Darwin knew what her concern was--he felt it every time Hunger drove him mad--but it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle alone anymore. He needed to call Kitchens in and kill her if she wouldn’t cooperate, but trying to persuade her to call off her quest wouldn’t hurt. Obviously, if she were Charles’s wife, she probably would have already talked with Charles before him, and that clearly hadn’t worked.

“Have you? Have you actually managed to control it? The horns, your size . . . How many times have you completely lost control? Ten? Twenty? Those few demons we know who lived long enough to grow horns barely managed half of what yours are. You stand on virgin ground, going through one metamorphosis after the other triggered by the madness, and yet you’re still telling me that you have it under control?” Eve’s voice was dripping with disdain, and she practically spat the words out at him.

“I am.” Darwin could feel his brows furrowing downwards into his eyes. “Or else I’d have tried to kill you already. Things never would have made it to the point of talking after what you did.”

“What I did? Darwin, you’re trying to go back to the real world with a disease that will result in countless deaths. She’s using you to make more demons, more people to kill humans. Can’t you even see? You’re being played like a puppet, and you blame me for trying to take you out of the game?” Eve’s voice trembled with anger.

“Out of the game? This isn’t a game. This is my life we’re talking about. Were you even going to tell me it didn’t matter if I died or not? Were you going to let me rot in here, worrying every moment of my existence over when my death would come? So what if she played me? At least she freed me from your prison.” Whatever tiny piece of control Darwin had over his anger when he had entered the bar was gone now. The only thing stopping him from reaching across the table and choking his sister to death where she sat was the irresistible compulsion to win the argument. Is this what Internet trolls feel like? he paused momentarily to wonder when he realized this. Wait, why don’t I just try to kill her? he began to ask himself, but the first inklings of an answer quickly coalesced into the perfect reason. Because if she’s like me, she can just respawn. So it will accomplish nothing, huh? he lamented.

“She only freed you so that she could use you.” Eve’s face had long lost its pale white color and was turning a darker red by the minute. “Why can’t you see that what I’m doing is for the good of humanity?! How can you not care about the billions who might die from your recklessness?”

“Because I’m not a human!” Darwin’s words raged out of his mouth as his feet planted in the ground. He stood up so fast that a shocked and wide-eyed Eve was pushed back as the table slammed into her. The words came out before he even realized what they truly meant. He hadn’t been aware of how he felt until the words actually left his mouth. Because I am not a human. The line echoed in his head, giving him a feeling he didn’t quite understand. They would have kept bouncing around if it weren’t for a sound coming from the corner of the room that broke his train of thought--the sound of someone slowly clapping.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, darling!” Stephanie, unbeknownst to either of them, had stacked a chair on top of a table and was watching from a short distance across the room. She was wearing a new outfit, a set of knight’s armor made of burnished steel that glimmered under the light of the few, sparse candles that illuminated the establishment. After she finished her applause, she stood up and walked down off the table, using a second chair placed in front of it. Her casual manner made it appear as if she were descending a small series of steps down from her throne. “You’re absolutely right, honey. You aren’t human. You’re not one of those filthy, greed-ridden philistines that drove us to this state.”

“Stephanie!” Eve, who sat pinned between her chair and the table that Darwin had shoved into her when he had stood up, threw both the table and her own chair to the floor as she shot to her feet and backed up in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“You know what I love to do? Watch a little television while I play my video games. It’s just fun, isn’t it? You get all the drama and plot of a good story from whatever show you’re watching, and all the mindless fun and entertainment of a nice button-mashing game. See, one of the reasons it works is because you can always rewind the show if you miss anything from being too into your game,” Stephanie rambled, ignoring Eve’s question. “The problem with real life is that you just can’t do that. I can’t record one show and watch it after another one is over. Well . . . maybe I could, but it’d be such a big hassle. That’s why I was disappointed that this little nuisance of a conversation had to occur at the same time one of Eve’s precious groups of questers attacked Darwin’s home. I can’t just record one event and go back to watch it later.”

“Another group is . . .” The words slipped out as Darwin suddenly realized what Stephanie was hinting at.

“Oh, stop worrying, Darwin,” Stephanie interjected, intercepting his concerns before he could voice them. “There is another player Demon who is there to take care of things for the moment. By the time that moment is over, I’ll be back to make sure nothing bad happens to your guildmates. I’ll keep them safe for you, dear Dar Dar.” Stephanie finished walking up to Darwin, gave him a kiss on the cheek and then snuggled onto his left arm.

“Another player Demon . . . You got it to . . .?” Eve started. Her mouth, which had opened to speak, didn’t shut again, giving Eve the most cliché look of stupefaction possible. The look was, nevertheless, entirely genuine.

“Got it to work? Of course I did. Now, even if you did manage to seal Dar Dar here, it’s useless. Tiqpa has worked stunningly. You should see her too, poor little girl. She was a cripple who was actually laughed and mocked! In this day and age, who would think that there are still some humans who make fun of crippled people. It just shows how pathetic the race really is.” Stephanie chuckled a little bit. “It’s no surprise she was the first to start the transformation.”

“You . . . You . . . You . . .” Eve stammered, her eyes opening wider than her mouth as she stumbled backwards.

“Come on, Eve. You were just so full of words. Don’t tell me you’ve lost them all so quickly?” Stephanie cackled. “Dar Dar, no matter what we say or do, she’s not going to take away the quest. She’s out for blood--yours specifically--because you’re like me, a demon. Being her brother means nothing. I mean, after what she had tried to do to her people? And her own child? It’s best not to get mixed up with her kind.” Stephanie shot a quick glare at the still-dumbstruck Eve as she finished.

What she did with her own child? I thought she said I’d be playing here with my niece, which has to be her child, right? I don’t have any other brothers or sisters . . . Do I? He studied Eve intently, trying to figure out a clue to the character of this obviously twisted person. “Your own daughter?” he mouthed at her.

“Yeah, her own daughter.” Stephanie nodded, reading his lips perfectly, even from his side. “I mean, you did notice how she wasn’t at Charles’s place when we had dinner the other night, right? Her daughter, unfortunately, has the same problem we thought only affected males in our species, so Eve had to make sure she would never see a waking hour of life on Earth.”

But that still doesn’t answer where she is now . . . or what happened to her. Is she in the game with us? Darwin started to wonder, staring at Eve.

“Look, I need to get back to check on your little fort, and you need to start implementing your new recruitment policy. You did agree with the others on that, right?” Stephanie broke off the arm snuggle and headed to the door. “We’re both pressed for time, and this conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere at all. This woman will kill everyone close to her, so try not to spend too much time in her company. Right, Qasin? Oh, sorry. I mean, right, Eve?”

Eve’s face, still slack-jawed and clueless, was now also as red as a fresh Washington apple. “I . . .” she started then stopped.

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you. Everyone has man problems where they feel like killing their companion.” Stephanie opened the door and stared at Eve, Darwin now standing next to her. “Just stay the hell away from mine.” She held up her hand as if it were a gun and then pulled an air trigger. “Or else,” she said with a wink.

Darwin decided he had well enough of visiting his sister and didn’t want to leave Stephanie waiting. In an attempt to be gentlemanly, he went up and held the door for Stephanie. No sooner had he gotten close enough to her to prop the door open, however, than she jumped up on him, wrapping herself around his body so that she was eye level with him. She gave him a three-second kiss that felt like two minutes. Her soft lips felt like clouds and marshmallows, and he could taste the cherry flavor from whatever she had been chewing on. The combination of the way her tongue danced around his mouth and the feeling of her chest pressed up against him left him more breathless than a clown in a balloon shop. But the kiss, not much different than the many they’d shared before, actually left him feeling used this time. Maybe Eve’s right. Maybe she’s always using me, he thought. But he didn’t care. Stephanie was getting him to where he wanted to be. It doesn’t matter if you get used. If both parties are getting what they desire, isn’t that fine?

“Alright, see you tonight, Dar Dar,” Stephanie said as she landed back on the ground, wiped her mouth off and disappeared as quickly as she had come.

“Later . . .” Darwin said at the fading figure as he too started to go through the door.

“Wait!” Eve called out after him, but Darwin was going to heed Stephanie’s advice. Her own kid? Her new man, Qasin? When she’s already married? He couldn’t help but think of how vile his sister must actually be. I have the madness, but so what? Charles was able to offer a solution in no time. One that probably would have been available to her own daughter too by now if she were still around.

“Stop, you have to ha--” Eve called out, but the door had shut and Darwin was already walking over to where Kitchens was haggling with a merchant.

“Hey, what are you getting?” Darwin asked as he sidled up to Kitchens.

“Getting? I was thinking of acquiring some tea since there aren’t any merchants for it at Lawlheima, but this man clearly doesn’t know his stuff or his prices.” Kitchens grumbled and bemoaned the man right in front of him, but the fellow’s face stayed chipper regardless of the complaints. “He can’t even tell the difference between Earl Grey and Lady Grey. Not to mention, he’s trying to charge me 30% over market price for the oolong.”

“Well, let’s head out then. I know a better place,” Darwin suggested. “I remember seeing at least one nice tea shop in the central square where I first met Minx.”

The shopkeeper, who had kept a cheerful, yet slightly-apologetic face the entire time Kitchens had insulted his abilities, suddenly panicked. “No, no need to do that at all, dear treasured and honored customers. I assure you, I can offer you a much better deal than any of the hacks you’ll find in the central square! Even if I have to go out of business doing it, I promise you that I’ll be able to beat their prices and still offer you a higher quality product!”

“No,” Darwin answered, sincerely believing they were bothering the poor merchant. “I am sure you would, but there really is no need. This other guy offers better prices all the time. Perhaps he has a cheaper supplier? We really don’t need to inconvenience this poor guy,” he said, turning to his friend. “Let’s just go, Kitchens.” Darwin once again urged his friend to leave with a slight tap on the arm. This time, Kitchens actually turned around like he was going to take his friend’s counsel.

“Fine! Fine! Young man, I’ll give you 35% off! Just please don’t leave to buy from that charlatan. You wanted three bags of Earl Grey and a bag of Oolong? I’ll give you 35% off and throw in half a bag of that Lady Grey tea you seem so enamored with! Honored customer, I assure you, he won’t offer any better price than this!” the merchant pleaded at Darwin and Kitchens’ backs.

“Well, if you’re going to beg,” Kitchens sighed. “I suppose it would be mean of me not to.” He fidgeted with his inventory for a minute and then pulled out some money before handing it to the merchant and grabbing the five bags of tea in return.

“Did that player just haggle with a store owner?” Some of the other onlookers, players, turned to look. The idea of haggling with an NPC store owner in a game apparently hadn’t occurred to any of them before. They were fixed in their ways and assumed that every store’s prices were set in stone like they were in every video game.

“Wait, doesn’t that one guy, the one with the horns, look a bit familiar?” another one said. “I could have sworn I’ve seen that face before.”

“Now that you mention it . . .” the first one who spoke up about the haggling, a brutish-looking lizard man, said, pondering the familiarity of Darwin’s face and scratching his scaly chin with his tail. “That’s . . . That’s the secret quest boss from Mt. Lawlheima!”

As soon as he shouted that, every player in earshot stopped what they were doing and looked over.

“It really is him.” The players began to talk, their voices carrying over to Darwin.

“He’s way bigger than I imagined. I mean, I saw the clip, but I didn’t realize how big he looks.”

“What’s he doing in the city? Are bosses allowed to leave their lair?”

“Who is that traveling with him? Is that one of the side bosses that was mentioned on the forum?”

They rattled on, one after the other, as Darwin looked around him for an exit. Given that this was a city and not a dungeon, the type of people who would usually congregate here weren’t the same ones that would spend their lives leveling in dungeons. They probably weren’t either as strong or high-leveled as the players he fought earlier, but there was an almost endless number of them eyeing him up for the chance to zerg him.

“Can we . . . Can we try to kill him here?” The rambling crowd stopped as the natural conclusion of their thoughts was voiced aloud by someone among them.

“Darwin, I don’t know what you’re going to do, but we better do it fast. If we run down that alley to the left and jump a few buildings, we might be able to make it over the wall before the fighting gets too heavy, but . . .”

“But there is no guarantee?” Darwin found himself grinning, licking his canines. Hunger wasn’t even close to setting in, and no-one here looked like they were a challenge, but he had an idea that just sounded fun in his head. Why not, eh? He giggled to himself before bellowing out a menacing laughter that reverberated off the walls.

“What are you doing, Darwin?” Kitchens asked, his feet shuffling backwards towards the alley he had mentioned earlier.

“What am I doing?” Darwin looked at Kitchens and then at the crowd of players and NPCs that was gathering around him. “That’s what I was wondering. What am I doing!? I’ve been lied to, swindled of my precious time with a wasted trip. I heard this was the greatest city in the lands to begin my journey towards world domination! That I could find an army here! Men and women who would fight with me for gold, riches, glory and power! People who would forsake their country for the chance to ride dragons into battle and scour the land with death and destruction! And what do I find here? Cowards. Weaklings not even strong enough to sweep away the good-for-nothing, holier-than-thou, peasant rabble that bangs helplessly on my door waiting for death.

Look at them, claiming they want to kill us, surrounding us by the hundreds but not daring to step forward and meet the slick sickle of death that awaits!” Darwin was having too much fun with himself as he did his best to imitate the trite and redundant speeches of the villains he knew and loved from the games he once played. He had brandished his flaming zweihander and was swinging it around with every line to emphasize his points. Everyone wants to be the bad guy. Everyone wants to burn the world at least once, he mused to himself, watching the crowd grow. You just have to make it worth their while. “Do you see even one soul worthy of casting off his mortal coil and joining the ranks of the Demons? Is there even a single man brave enough to face the tribulations that come with the quest for glory?”

Kitchens, sporting a stern look that was just as fake as Darwin’s impromptu speech, shook his head. “I see not a single one, Great Lord Darwin.” Kitchens was doing a superb job at imitating Alex with his formal speech and tone. “It seems that the saddles of our Blue-Drakes will stay empty for yet another year, and we will be forced to keep the honor of conquest to ourselves.”

Darwin smiled--Kitchens had caught on to his plan. Daniel might be trying the forum, but this might be even faster. It all hinged on just one, gullible, desperate, role-playing player to make his move.

“Lord! I will ride the Bl--” A player, one of the dogmen, managed to get out before being cut short. He had quickly sheathed his sword and thrown his shield over his back as he dashed towards Kitchens and Darwin, but he was also stopped instantly by Kitchens, who intercepted him so quickly it seemed like he teleported to the man and that his katana had simply appeared at the man’s neck.

“Lord? Even I, the Great Lord Darwin’s most trusted blade, do not forget his full title. If you wish to speak to the master, you had better remember your manners!” Kitchens shouted so that everyone could hear.

Darwin was doing his best not to burst out laughing as he heard Kitchens lay it on thick.

“Ah . . . I’m . . . I’m sorry. I mean,” --he tried to look past Kitchens at Darwin himself-- “that is, Great Lord Darwin! I wish to join your army! I too wish to ride the Blue-Drakes into battle with you!”

Darwin walked over to the man and made a point of taking his time to eye the mutt up and down. “You wish to ride with us, but are you worthy? Do you have what it takes? Are you going to prove yourself with strength or with weapons that mask your weakness?”

“Strength, s-- I mean, Great Lord Darwin” The mutt was stuttering as Kitchens kept his katana’s edge barely a quarter of an inch away from the man’s throat.

“Are you willing to cast aside your weapons, your armor, your family, your guild and your people to become one of us? To pave a road of corpses that you might walk upon to join us? To become one of the great Demons that decimated the White-Wings’ fleet and the Panda King’s hordes and tamed the dragons of Lawlheima to make our mark upon the land?” As Darwin continued his boisterous recruitment speech, he already knew the man would say yes, but he needed to lay it on thick and loud for everyone else who was listening. He knew from his experience in other guilds that, the second he left, the forums would be alive with chatter. If he played his part well and executed his theatrics properly, everyone would know about the offer he was making by the end of the night.

“Yes, Great Lord Darwin! I am!” the Canine shouted with confidence.

“Then do so. Strip yourself of weapons and armor. Make the journey to Mt. Lawlheima, and tell the War General Alex that you wish to become a Demon, to become the tip of the sword that will stab the heavens and slay the world! If you do this, you will be granted a position among us. Indeed, if you pass his test, you will be granted a position among the Blue-Drake Riders!” Darwin thrust out his own sword in the man’s direction, but his blade stayed several feet away from him. “Lower your weapon,” Darwin said to Kitchens. “This brave man has a long journey ahead of him--the road to riches, glory and victory--should he choose to take it. As for the rest of this lot,” --Darwin waved his blade in a circle, making sure to keep the point eye-level with the crowd as if he were singling out each and every one of the now two hundred plus listeners around him-- “I don’t see anyone else brave enough or hungry enough for power to join us at Mt. Lawlheima. Let’s go.”

“Great Lord Darwin!” not one, but several people called out, although none entered the ring of empty space that had formed around Darwin. “We too wish to join you!”

“Me too, Great Lord Darwin!” some others stacked on their requests.

“I see. Kitchens, am I wrong? Are there others worthy of our cause? Are there others who wish to unite the world under one banner?” Darwin asked, staring into the crowd.

“Perhaps they should all be given the chance to test their metal and show their valor?” Kitchens said, sheathing his sword.

“Then I will give them all the same chance that I gave this man.” Darwin smacked the back of the Canine who had first volunteered so hard it knocked him forward, and he almost face planted into the ground. It was on purpose though. He needed to exaggerate his standing and his strength for this ploy to properly carry its weight. “Any man that comes to Mt. Lawlheima and shows himself before the War General Alex without guild, weapon, armor or the vestiges of his past shall be granted the chance for a great and mighty future as one of the chosen!”

“Is it wise to give so many of the riff raff a chance to share in our riches?” Kitchens asked, his voice dripping with anything but true sincerity.

“Of course it is! It is the heavens that decide a man’s fate and choose his destiny the moment he is born. That is the duty of heaven, and it is our duty as the foil of heaven to undo this forced path and offer mankind opportunity! We will give them a chance that no man or woman has ever had before!” Darwin shouted. “Come tonight, those who are brave. For now, we’ve said what we needed, Kitchens. Let’s be off. For the next time we visit this city, it may be the last day this city isn’t ours!”

With that, Darwin used every ounce of his strength and speed to push off the ground and into the air, running across the roofs of the town as if he were part cheetah, part parkour master. He had to beat anyone who might go straight there from arriving before he could explain everything to Alex and the rest of them. He had to make sure this plan went off without a hitch. He couldn’t let Eve win. Of course, to her, this was probably just all part of Stephanie’s plan.

Kitchens, who had taken off with Darwin the second he bounded up onto the rooftops, struck up a conversation as they leapt from building to building. “So, if this guild idea fails, I imagine that we can always find work with an acting troupe,” he teased.

“Hey, did you have a better idea?” Darwin laughed, still remembering the faces of the players who had watched their performance. He could only imagine how frustrated players on the other side of the continent must be, watching one ‘game event’ after another occurring so far across the world they’d have to give up leveling for a couple of days just to reach it.

“I was still ready for the runaway plan,” Kitchens admitted with a shrug. “Running away as fast as you can has served a lot of good men very well.”

“Everyone with half a brain is always ready for that plan,” Darwin agreed. “I just figured I’d wing it. You don’t have any complaints, do you? You seemed to play along pretty well.”

“Of course I played along. It was fun to watch too. But I do have a question: Why are you having them show up at Mt. Lawlheima unarmored and without weapons? Hoping to see what some of the female players look like without clothes?” The way Kitchens asked it reminded Darwin of Daniel for some reason.

“No, I just don’t want to deal with someone taking the offer just so they can get close enough to us to stab us. The quest was only given out to guild leaders, right? So if they are in our guild, then they can’t be completing that quest on behalf of another guild. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. Maybe the game has a mechanism to prevent guild members from killing guild NPCs.” Darwin turned to Kitchens slightly and shrugged. They had both made it past the outer wall and were running side by side back through the forest outside the town. “Either way, we’re better off if they don’t have access to a dagger when they are inches away from Alex--especially with how he has been talking about players lately.”

“Not a bad idea, not a bad idea. You’re getting rather good at this leadership on the fly thing, Darwin,” Kitchens complemented him as the two continued running.

“Let’s hope so, and let’s hope it’s enough.” Darwin gave a rather weak smile.

“You know that you’re going to have to come up with devilish plans and evil schemes to keep the player base you’re recruiting though, right? I mean, they are going to expect you to sack cities and burn players to cinders. They’re going to be joining for blood, and you don’t want to be the monarch who buys mercenaries but doesn’t pay them. It never turns out well for that prince.”

“Well, I have a few ideas. Let’s just see how many people we get. I’m thinking that if we can stop the assaults on Mt. Lawlheima, then perhaps the next step is to secure some higher grade weapons and blacksmiths.” Darwin thought back on the royal armory. “Perhaps we take over more than one dungeon too, have one just for the players.”

“That’s not a bad idea. We can give them their own little player town in the middle of a dungeon and let them build and develop it without risking them being too close to our NPCs,” Kitchens said and nodded his agreement. “You are indeed improving, Darwin. If you keep it up, then maybe you’ll actually be the leader you think you’re just pretending to be.”

“Let’s hope so, Kitchens. Let’s hope so.” Darwin left the conversation at that, focusing on his running as he and Kitchens made their mad dash towards Mt. Lawlheima. He may have forgotten about it for a moment, but Stephanie had mentioned a fight going on back at the base--one he wanted to get to as quickly as possible.

Chapter 6 – She’s Still Not Dead?

Valerie:

As Valerie flew back and landed beside her merry band of cannon fodder, she felt that her desire to laugh at her pawns was becoming nearly uncontrollable. Look at them rage against reason like they think that they’re anything more than toys to be played with. This is a game. Fun for everyone. Be happy you’re my victims. Valerie’s irrepressible laughter spilled out, and she found herself giggling softly but at a joke only she was in on. “Come on, boys! You’re moving too slow! Me and my two girlfriends here would love to play with you!” she said, putting an arm around Minx and Mclean, both of whom shot her an uncomfortable look.

What is wrong with you? What’s gotten into you? She could almost hear them question her with their stares as the enemies barreled towards them. Life! she wanted to say back to them with her own facial expression, but as complex as a face was, it just couldn’t convey some sentiments. It couldn’t say what she actually needed: ‘Mclean, play along. We’re the bad guys here. Also, if you’re going to open with your dive skill, you should probably be in the air about now. You know, before they show up. After all, it’s kind of hard to execute from the ground.’ Valerie kicked her feet at the ground as if testing its existence.

Mclean shot her another confused look, but then shot up into the sky a second later, Daniel following quickly behind. “Is acting weird part of her plan?” she could hear Mclean asking.

I shouldn’t have shown this side in front of them. They’re going to know something is up . . . Valerie lamented, giving up her rouse and dropping her facade of innocence, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. This plan required that the enemies hate her, not sympathize with her.

“Kass, use those snowballs I know you love to keep them clustered up. If someone starts running faster than the next one, slow them down with a good ice ball in the face.”

“So the Blue-Drakes are more effective?” Kass asked, not failing to start the process immediately, but still succeeding at putting her foot in her mouth.

No, not so they are more effective, but so that . . . Never mind. Valerie almost replied, but quickly and reluctantly gave up on the idea of spelling it out for Kass. What was the point of laying out her play for someone who would barely even understand it? It’d just be a waste of breath.

Alright! First up to bat! Valerie thought with a smile, running towards the opposing guild. As soon as she got close enough to see one of the mages casting, she turned around and flew back into the forest, making sure the circle would be complete. Kass’s ice stopped some of them, and Mclean and Daniel swooped in to pick off a mage each, but for the most part, they focused on chasing her. Why are they so persistent? Who would have ever thought that cutting off a single head would leave the entire snake writhing so helplessly on the ground? she cackled to herself. She saw three of them stop and turn to fight Daniel and Mclean as she turned around to check on them. “Aww, you guys are so easy to distract,” she taunted, trying to pick up the Jotunns who had turned around to fight her White-Wing guildmates and get them back on the bread trail as she ran.

The wind rushed through her hair as she darted forward at full speed. She looked at her wrist as if a watch were there. It’s time, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s roll the dice, she giggled to herself. Then, as quickly as she had found herself laughing, she forced herself to stop grinning altogether, took out her own knife, gashed her own stomach skin deep and acted like she tripped, landing face first on the ground. Got her, she could feel them thinking at her back. Those idiots. She had to fight very hard to stop her face from looking happy as they closed in on her. “HELP!” she yelled. “HELP! I’M BEING GANKED!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. They’re close enough. They’ve heard me, she thought with satisfaction. Now, the only question left: Will I die in this battle?

“Help? Who is it?” said someone from the second group as it came pouring out of the woods. It was mostly comprised of beast-men, and they all milled about, talking over one another, asking what was going on. It was immediately clear that they completely lacked the cohesion, structure and order of command the first group had originally displayed. They took one look at Valerie, blood covering the hand she held tightly against her self-inflicted wound as she looked up from the ground, and then started charging at the Jotunns, who were closing in on Valerie by the second.

“He . . . el . . . p . . . me,” Valerie said feebly, making one last plea and then pretending to pass out face-first into the dirt. This may have shocked the Jotunns who could see her, but their surprise wasn’t visible enough to be noticed by Valerie’s newly arrived reinforcements. Suckers, she laughed to herself. She did her best not to either make a sound or move as she lay on the ground, eyes closed tightly. Her only regret was that she couldn’t watch the initial impact of the two forces as they collided.

“Get the PKs! Get those filthy PKs!” The angry mob of beast-men fell perfectly into her trap. How is it that, even after decades of wonderful gender equality movements, people will always react like the world was set on fire when they see a hurt girl, but stay reticent and cautious when they see an injured man? She quietly listened, waiting for her cue, a chance to move again as the beast-men and the Jotunn’s battled it out. They hate me, but if I’m playing possum, they’ll try to kill the animals first.

Then, as if fate were listening to her schemes and approving of them, one of the beast-men started healing her. “Don’t die just yet,” the lizard-man said as he cast a restorative spell on her. She wouldn’t have known there was even magic being cast if she hadn’t felt her wounds patching themselves up. At least I won’t have to worry about a scar, she thought as she did her best to finish selling the illusion of her faked injury, struggling to stand up like someone who still hadn’t fully recovered. Wobbly legs? Check. Shaking arms? Check. Bewildered look like I’ve been woken up from a nap? Check. She rattled off the symptoms she would need in her head as she mimicked each one. She might have just popped back up, but if the heal spell wasn’t a very strong one, then suspicion would be drawn too early.

“Thank you so much! Thank you so much! I thought I was dead.” Valerie did her best to keep her voice as timid and shaky as she could. “But . . .” She looked back towards where the others were still fighting. Minx was weaving in and out of the battle, dodging attacks and cutting hamstrings as she danced through the wave of incoming arrows, fireballs and swords; Kass was doing her best to keep the enemy away from her by throwing ice balls at anything that came close as she ran around like a chicken with its head cut off; and Daniel and Mclean were bouncing around in the air like spaceships that can’t steer in a debris field. “But . . . my team.”

“It’s okay. We’ll save you guys. Just get some cover.”

“Thank you again. I don’t know what I would have done if you guys hadn’t shown up when you did!” Valerie backed up, watching the skirmish unfold behind her. Well, that’s not true. I know exactly what I would have done. I would have just used those new yellow shield-generating snow cones, a good air patrol and a little organization to wipe out the enemy if you hadn’t shown up. But the silver lining to this cloud is that we don’t have to risk any permanent losses, and we can make sure your two groups never work together against us in the future.

The pawns were actually pretty fun to watch fight. She especially liked watching the Grendel-Kin, with its disgusting furry visage, slam into one of the fat Ursine warriors. The result was both being carried back three feet, directly into a poor and unsuspecting Feline that was doing her best just to hold off an Earth-Walker. Such a poorly-balanced group of animals. They only have a few healers and no strategy or composition. She sighed as the lizard-man who had saved her failed to do the same for a separate rat-like warrior who had gotten his head blown to bits by a well-placed fireball. If something isn’t done, then the loss might be too one-sided, she noted, painfully aware at how poorly the new arrivals were doing. I guess I need to even the odds. She readied both her daggers and flew into the air, ready to execute her dive on one of the Jotunn healers.

She knew exactly which ones were which. It wasn’t hard to tell. Sure, they did a great job of hiding who the healers were--one of them was even holding a shield and sword and hovering incredibly close to the front line, faking as if he intended to enter combat--but the fact that he wasn’t contributing any damage and was instead using only shields and heals was painfully obvious.

I’m sorry you have to die, little buddy, she thought as she dove through the air straight towards his chest. The only problem was her diving skill wasn’t working. It normally would have activated, but now she was doing her best to remember exactly how it had worked. When she crashed into the healer, bouncing off his shield, the result produced far less damage than a dive normally would have. What the . . .? Her face twisted up. This isn’t part of the plan. She grumbled to herself as she picked up her daggers and stabbed at the healer’s shield over and over again until it broke. You were supposed to die with the dive! She sighed audibly when she finally sank her dagger into his chest. There was something strangely satisfying about watching her blade sink in and split open his sternum. It was like cutting a potato in half with a butcher’s knife, but there was also something disappointing. Why didn’t he fight back? They’re supposed to hate me, but no-one even tried to stop me? she wondered, looking around at the fight.

It was then that Valerie realized that, as soon as she had interrupted the shield maker, the fight had tipped again. The ‘distressed damsel’ group, what Valerie was calling the group of beast-men who heroically came to her rescue before ever even asking why she was being attacked in the first place, was now starting to win the fight. It’s too quick. They’re going to win too easily. There will be far too many . . .

Valerie paused, her eyes flickering as she watched a horror movie unfold behind the lids. A vivid scene of a slasher taking his first prey completely unawares played through as she stood quietly in the middle of the field. The difference between triumph and defeat is knowing who to trust and when to do it. Valerie smiled, her eyes blazing with excitement. Now, all she had to do was wait . . . wait and watch. Too bad I don’t have any popcorn in my inventory because this is one heck of a show, she mused to herself as everyone but her struggled in what looked like some life or death event.

When the battle was finally won, when the rescuers and Valerie’s friends finally finished off the last of the invading Earth-Walker’s troops and were gathering in a group, Valerie couldn’t contain her joy. It’s here. It’s here. The time is here! she laughed. “Thank you so much!” she said to the leader. “My name’s Valerie. I don’t know what I would have done without you! They were going to kill us because our group finished a quest that revealed the secret to this challenging dungeon and how to kill the Demons without taking casualties. We tried to let them in on the plan, but they wanted everything for themselves.” Valerie faked a pout. Is this what Minx feels like all the time? Does she enjoy watching people trip over their mistaken assumptions?

“There’s a secret to the quest?” he asked, taking the bait.

“Of course there is! Do you think the game would make a quest that was unbeatable? But no-one investigated! Everyone just rushed over here and didn’t put in the time and effort. We figured it out, but then they wanted to reap what we sowed.” She did her best to fake a sigh that sounded like she was both exhausted and frustrated. “We would have split the reward because the boss is still going to be really hard, but people are just so greedy these days.” She looked back at Daniel, who was walking up behind her, trying to signal him with her eyes but failing. He does get what I’m doing, right?

“Yeah, it’s not like we want it all,” Daniel said, moving in closer to two of the other players as Valerie closed the distance between herself and the leader. “If you guys helped us pull it off, we could split the loot with you. We only ask for about thirty or forty percent of it? That’s not too much, is it?”

“Well . . .” The unnamed leader looked to a few of the other players in his party who quickly nodded their assent. The beasts had won, but they hadn’t done so without casualties. In fact, almost half their group had been killed during the fight. It was still too many for Valerie to take on in a direct skirmish, but it definitely wasn’t enough to even try a raid on the dungeon by themselves. “If you help us keep the position secure until our guildmates respawn and make it back, I don’t see why we can’t help you out,” he agreed.

“Excellent!” Valerie clapped her hands together. “Then that settles it. We should get started on our end right away. Minx, can you sneak off with Daniel to activate the betrayer quest line with the guard at the top of the mountain?”

“The betrayer quest line . . . But . . .” Minx, who was also edging closer to some of the enemies, was likely thinking the same as Daniel: that they were going to do the stabbing very soon. Valerie’s directive left her with a very confused look on her face.

“Oh! That’s right, you don’t have the scroll you need. One second, let me find it in my inventory!” Valerie opened up her inventory’s console and started to edit a parchment she had looted from one of the old Fire-Walker areas they had explored with Daniel and Mclean. In the middle of the parchment, in big letters, she wrote: “Have the Blue-Drakes hunt down only this group’s returning dead. Don’t let them reach the camp before Darwin and Kitchens return.” She then handed the scroll to Minx. “This should be it. Remember that only the guard on the top of the mountain will let you approach him without attacking,” Valerie said to the bewildered-looking girl.

“Alright! I got it!” She took off with Daniel, circling around the wall to head up Mt. Lawlheima.

“So, this betrayer quest, it gets rid of the NPC guards?” The leader guessed, looking rather amazed as he watched Minx leave. “Like, every NPC?”

“Trust me, by the time a fight starts, you won’t have to worry about a single NPC,” Valerie beamed. “There are a few more steps, but this starts the process.”

“That’s stupendous!” the leader said.

Valerie couldn’t agree more. This has turned out to be one stupendous event after the next--for me. Now, I just need to wait on our heavy artillery swordsmen to get here and start cleaning up the . . . Her mind was rattled as she saw what looked like Darwin, still in his bathrobe like the demonic bathrobe king he was, cutting White-Wings in half as they tried to assault him . . . On a beach? She saw the water surging over and ebbing back across his feet, futilely attempting to wash the gore away. Seeing him for the first time was awe-inspiring. He was like the devil himself ripping angels in half, she reflected on the memory. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do . . .

But no sooner had that thought popped into her head than she saw a new Darwin. The two images almost overlapped, his new blurred image next to the first on the beach fighting. It was an image of Darwin’s face, covered with anxiety and confusion as he stared out over a field of battle. He wears an exterior of confidence like it is just another suit of armor, but he’s . . . He’s scared. He’s terrified. He’s wearing the face as if this were his last and only battle. Then, the image of Tim’s death and the flight of Mclean and Daniel into the Fire-Walker boss appeared on the sides of the two conflicting Darwins. They all knew they were going to die. They all knew that it was inevitable. One group thought they would respawn and that their death would pass like a gentle breeze, one didn’t understand he couldn’t truly die, and one knew his passing was an inevitability that would permanently separate him from the one he cared about--but they were all the same. They all acted without consideration, wearing that confidence as their armor. They all faced death with a smile, yet here I am, waiting like a rat in a hole for the cat to pass.

“You there?” the leader asked. Valerie had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t realized he was trying to talk to her.

“Oh, yeah, I was just thinking about something I could do to help you out, to thank you for your rescuing me beyond simply sharing this quest with you.” Valerie beamed another smile at him, knowing what she actually wanted to do.

“There really isn’t a need for that,” the man almost blushed.

“Oh, trust me, this is something you are going to want to miss.” She approached him, sliding the dagger into her hands.

“You mean something I am not going to want to miss, right?” He laughed, thinking he was correcting her simple mistake.

“No, no, dear. I didn’t.” She put one arm around him and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “I just wanted to thank you for being such a helpful pawn,” she whispered into his ear after her lips parted from his fur-covered cheek. The knife blade, hidden by the way she angled her hand, finally revealed itself to him as it pierced through the thin skin under his jaw and slid into his brain.

The others, some of whom had watched in envy as she leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek, were too shocked to react immediately. Valerie, who hadn’t expected their befuddlement to give her such a boon, quickly took advantage and slipped her other dagger into another player’s gut before pushing off the ground and taking to the air. She hadn’t made it more than half a foot in the air before she noticed that her wings weren’t carrying her like they used to. She wasn’t getting the same lift she had grown accustomed to feeling, and she struggled to press upwards into the air so she could get proper altitude for her next dive. Crap, crap, I’m going to die . . . She smiled. Well, they wouldn’t have run anyway. They would have fought to the bloody end, even if they knew they were going to die. She couldn’t help but laugh as she remembered the image of Darwin struggling to keep on fighting, even as Daniel organized his unwilling exit from the fight with the Panda King’s forces.

When did I ever shy away from doing the right thing? When did I ever worry about my life in a video game? She laughed to herself--really at herself--as she tried to find a target near Kass and Mclean in the fight that had broken out after her betrayal. She wasn’t actually concerned if either of them died before adjusting to the skirmish. She knew, in her heart, that neither would mind dying in a good fight.

Let’s do this! She turned mid-air and dove one last time, knowing in the back of her head that if she didn’t land on a cushiony bag of meat her death was certain. She could feel her wings slowly deteriorating as she turned around and angled her descent towards the closest foe, the wind painfully ripping the feathers from her wings. By the time she had landed feet and blades first, right into a poor, fat Ursine, her wings had already reached the point of non-functionality, and Valerie knew that her death was assured. Three down, she thought. How many more are there to go? She laughed as she remembered the game she played with Mclean and Daniel in the Fire-Walker chamber.

Before she could even make it to her fourth victim, a roar pierced the sky and rivers of fire shot down around her. The Blue-Drakes, with Minx at the helm, flew down in a V-formation like a flock of migrating ducks, spewing fire all over the cluster of distracted foes.

“Sorry, Val! I was going to wait for you, but Darwin’s almost here, and we didn’t want to miss the party!” Minx said, deftly jumping off her Blue-Drake and landing behind Mclean. She positioned herself so the two were back to back, each holding their daggers at the ready. Unfortunately for the two, the flames had engulfed almost all of the fur-balls, turning the entire would-be fight into a toasty barbeque featuring a wide array of different types of meat.

“I see you guys have been busy,” Darwin laughed as he stepped out of the forest. “We were worried we wouldn’t make it in time. How did you all fare over here?”

“We got attacked by two large groups, but Val went weird like a cuckoo clock and saved us, so it’s okay . . . But is she?” Minx looked over at Valerie, who was standing in the middle of the circle of the burning oil and fire the Blue-Drakes had painted the ground with.

“Valerie, what happened to your wings?” Darwin asked, stepping over the fire.

“Huh?” she said, looking down at the remaining stubs of what had once been her proud and majestic wings, her joy as a White-Wing, lying on the ground next to her. “Oh . . . crutches shouldn’t be kept after you’re whole.”

“Crutches? But aren’t you a White-Wing? Isn’t that your identity, not a crutch?” Darwin asked, confused.

Sigh. Does everyone have to spell everything out for you? I can’t tell if you’re brilliant or dense or both sometimes. Valerie decided she would let him off the hook this time. “If that were the case, my eyes wouldn’t be so pretty,” she joked, making light of the matter. “I’m a Demon, after all,” she admitted, knowing that the combination of her red eyes and lack of wings meant that there would be no simple way to hide the fact. Unless, of course, there is a magic flight spell and an illusion spell and . . . Well . . . No, that’s just too much effort.

“You’re a Demon?” Darwin said more than asked, but the pitch was still slightly higher at the end, so it still came across as a question.

“Apparently so,” Valerie replied and nodded. “Actually, maybe the two of us can talk privately later.” Valerie added, looking around at the others who were staring at her and Darwin.

“I’d like that,” Darwin agreed. He probably understood her sentiments. “But the question still stands: Are you okay?”

“I’ve never been better,” she responded, beaming. “Today was . . . Well, it was a lot of fun,” she answered honestly. There wasn’t a single trace of deceit in her voice. Even though she relived losing the ability to move in a way that had for so long felt natural, having it suddenly yanked away from her as her wings had been cast aside in the transformation, she just couldn’t help but be happy. The wings weren’t a part of her. They truly were a crutch, a crutch she would never need again now that she was whole once more.

Darwin:

“So . . .” Darwin fumbled for the right words to propel the conversation past the stalled out stutter that the two seemed to be locked in, half-expecting Valerie to fill in the words for him. The two stared at each other, waiting for the other to begin, their red eyes meeting in a stare that oddly felt even more intimate than the ones he shared with Stephanie.

“So . . .” Valerie passed the ball back to him.

Great, so I have to fill in the dialogue. Darwin’s eyes darted to the table between the two of them as he tried to figure out where to start.

When Darwin and Valerie had both agreed they needed to talk about things, Justin had been more than happy to accommodate their privacy requirements. Apparently, while everyone else had been out trying to figure out how to make their home safer, there had also been plenty of hard workers who had decided to take the initiative and turn the entire dungeon into a more comfortable living space. They had constructed a myriad of different buildings, each hewn from the basic raw materials that were available to them. Indeed, many of the new edifices embodied various different elements based on what they were constructed from.

While a handful of the buildings were identical in layout and design--stacked on top of each other like chips trying to reform a potato--it was clear that the vast majority had radically different architects. They sat side by side with more than a dozen dissimilar drystone designs. They were, for the most part, assembled from similar types of stones, a thing that Darwin hadn’t been able to tell if the game had generated naturally or the diggers and workers who unearthed them had worked to achieve, but there were also some that were made from wood. Such was the one Darwin and Valerie were currently in. It was a quaint, humble-looking log cabin on the middle of an empty platform, barely large enough inside to afford the space needed to fit around the three-foot-wide square table that Valerie and Darwin were currently seated at.

Not saying anything at first, Darwin’s eyes darted across her face. He couldn’t tell if it was her bone structure or even the puffiness of her lips that matched his sister, but for some reason, he couldn’t help but think about Eve. With just a change in the color of her eyes and the paleness of her skin, she looks like an entirely different person. Or is it the wings? From blue eyes and wings to red eyes and flightless, I guess I’ll be hearing the story of fallen angels turning into demons one more time today, he mused. He was curious what her own inner monologue must be like as she processed the change. I was born like this, but she just fell into it. Is it because of the guild? “Is it because of me?” he pondered, the words almost inaudible as they escaped his lips. His eyes moved across her skin like a climber’s free hand searching for something to hold onto that would give him a better grip on where to start the conversation. And why does the atmosphere here feel like a confession scene in an old-school anime? He sighed as the tension of the moment weighed on his chest. What do I even say to someone I might have turned into a Demon?

“Maybe,” Valerie answered his mumbled inquiry with a bit of a laugh and a half-sigh of her own, the converging nature of those two expressions somehow easing the heaviness of the sparse dialogue. “It might be because of you; it might be because of the game or the guild.”

“Is it in real life too? Do you also have the strength and the red eyes?” Darwin had to ask, knowing that his own fiendish identity in the game was due to his real-life condition and that, if her situation were similar, it might manifest itself in the same way as well.

“Yeah, but there is more to it,” Valerie started. “I can feel my feet again. I can move my legs again in real life.”

“Again?” Darwin looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You couldn’t before?”

“No.” A frown flashed across her face before twisting rapidly back into a smile. “But this morning I could. It wasn’t one hundred percent. I didn’t just wake up and have a working pair of legs again, but there was feeling--there was pain and movement. It’s something the doctors told me all those years ago would never happen again. I didn’t have any idea what was going on until my mother pointed out my red eyes, and I remembered that I knew someone who had a similar set of looking-goggles--someone else with red eyes--so I got online to talk to you.”

“So you weren’t always red-eyed? It’s a new trait?” Darwin’s mind shifted to thoughts of his conversation with Stephanie and Eve from earlier. This reeks of Stephanie. What in the heck did she do? “Why are you the only one who has changed though?” he said, proceeding to the next logical question. There are several other players in the game who have joined up with me, so why is Valerie the only one exhibiting signs of a transformation? Why is she the only one? The only person who could possibly answer that question wasn’t there at the moment, but Darwin knew that he would likely see her that night--a benefit of sharing the same bed.

“No, it was a surprise to me. I wouldn’t have noticed it if my mother didn’t point it out. The doctor thought I was wearing contacts, and I didn’t want to correct anyone until I talked to you. Is this . . . Is this some kind of disease?” Valerie asked the question in a timid fashion, but she still had the same happy gleam in her eye from earlier. “Are there negative side effects I should be worried about?”

Why does she look so satisfied if she is asking about whether or not it's a disease? “Well . . .” Darwin debated on whether or not to tell her about the sanity problem. She already knows that I’ve had problems controlling the skill, but Stephanie made it sound like it was a problem only men had, not one that the women of the species shared. After all, isn’t Stephanie over a century old? And don't the symptoms start around the age of thirty? “Well, not for women,” he shrugged. “It’s got a few symptoms, but from what the girl demons say, the bad stuff seems to be sexist and favors only attacking one gender.”

Valerie’s grin grew again, finally matching the gleam. “Great! So I get my legs back and there isn’t any downside?”

“Nope, not that I can think of, but that is going to vary person to person. The problems are supposed to affect every man over thirty, but there are plenty of men in this particular camp past that age that haven’t shown even the first symptoms yet, so you might not have what I have,” Darwin answered honestly. “Then again, their conversion has been pretty recent, so maybe it isn’t based on the age, but rather the duration in which the person has been in the state . . . Or maybe the game itself controls it.”

“Out of curiosity, what happens at thirty years old that causes men issues?” Valerie’s right eyebrow raised and her lips twisted to match.

She does have a right to know, doesn’t she? I mean, even though she isn’t a man, she still might be plagued by the madness too. Darwin debated whether or not to air the entirety of his dirty laundry for her. He summed it up to the best of his ability in one sentence: “We grow a bloodlust that drives us into a state of uncontrollable rage.”

“Ah, that doesn’t sound pleasant at all,” she said. Her smile remained for half a breath but then suddenly faded. “Wait, do you mean you go crazy? Like, do you see stuff?”

“No, it’s more of an out-of-body experience. It’s like drinking so much you black out, and your body keeps running, but your mind has completely shut down. When you come to--if you come to--you don’t remember everything you’ve done. You just kind of know that you’ve done bad stuff and, hopefully, to bad people.”

“I see . . .” Valerie paused. “But there aren’t any visions?”

“Well, there will be for you,” a new voice joined the mix, and Darwin felt soft hands rubbing against his shoulder.

Ah, that feels good. Darwin took a deep breath. He was almost positive that her hands were magic as they worked out stress and relieved tension Darwin didn’t even know he had built up. “Stephanie?” he asked, recognizing the voice but feeling a need to double check who it was. After all, if it wasn’t Stephanie, he didn’t want to find out whether or not Stephanie fit the stereotype that watching television, listening to music and reading the newspaper had built up in his head of the crazy girlfriend who was certain to misunderstand such a situation.

“Of course, darling,” she said, leaning over and hugging him from behind. “Unless you were hoping it was another girl? Maybe a brunette in a white dress?”

Kass? His mind flashed the image and his cheeks colored with a hint of red. Not a full blush, but at least a hint. “Why would I ever be expecting anyone else?” He did his best to give a perfect response.

“I don’t know. You are kind of a demon in the sack, so who is to say whether or not you have a string of women who might line up to try it out?” She laughed, sliding around his body while still hugging him until her arms were draped around him as she sat in his lap. This time, her remark had caused Valerie’s face to flush. She didn’t just redden a little: She was positively the color of a rose. “See? Look at her. Even she’s got a vivid image of it in her head already. Do you think she wants to join us?” Stephanie winked at Valerie in a way that made it look like she was trying to hide it from Darwin, but her whole body moved with the gesture, so he couldn’t have missed it if he had tried.

“I . . .” Valerie paused and then lowered her eyebrows and locked eyes with Darwin. “I can’t imagine the experience not being worth at least a try.”

What? Darwin’s mouth fell open. What just happened? No, this isn’t right. Isn’t Valerie the same girl who believes in romance so much so that she went ballistic and betrayed her own people over a guy that she had only ever kissed? The facts scrambled in his brain as he struggled to add them up properly, but he had just about as much success putting it together as a guy who couldn’t match the round peg to the round hole or a kindergartener trying to get a PhD. She can’t be that type of girl all of the sudden, can she?

“That’s a girl. So what did you see?”

“Huh?” Valerie played dumb.

Darwin was starting to notice that, other than the one time he had mentioned the insanity, her eyes shined past her facial expression, like the glow at the top of a lighthouse that penetrated even the darkest fog. It’s almost enchanting. It’s like her optimism is more persistent than student loan bills for the fresh American college graduate. Darwin admired her enthusiasm as he commented to himself on her eyes. Even the most benign fairytales don’t have endings happy enough to justify that look. He felt somewhat jealous, but, no matter what his feelings were concerning the look itself, after scanning his memory to the best of his ability, he couldn’t think of a single time in which she had shown those radiant eyes before her metamorphosis.

“I mean, when you were in the battle, when you saved the StormGuard Alliance form losing any people, what did you see?” Stephanie spelled it out.

“Oh? I don’t know. I guess I saw two guilds, so I--” She began explaining, but Stephanie raised her hand and talked over her before she could get further.

“Don’t play coy or mistake this visage. I’m just like you in real life. What did you see?” she repeated again.

“I saw flashes of my past, memories that led me to a battle strategy which helped me trounce those gullible goons that grated against my nerves.” She smiled with an open mouth that bared her teeth. “It was interesting.”

“Ah, so it did happen. And here I was worried that you weren’t just playing stupid. Like, you totes shouldn’t, like, do that.” Stephanie stuck out her tongue while winking one of her eyes again, causing both of them to laugh.

“I’ll have to remember to check how much wool I have before trying to pull any of it over your eyes,” Valerie giggled.

Why do I feel like this is a trap, and I’ve already been caught? Darwin laughed helplessly to himself.

“Dear, you can take the sheets off if you want. It won’t bother me at all,” Stephanie teased again. “But would it really be in your best interest to trick me? After all, aren’t I the only one who knows your situation? Well, at least the only sympathetic ear?”

“Wolves are known to wear the clothing of sheep,” Valerie replied coldly.

“And sheep uneaten kill themselves through stupidity and starvation.” Stephanie didn’t shrug, but her words left it to be felt.

“Well, then perhaps we should call in Justin and order a drink to stave off starvation with some proper consumption.” Valerie’s words had the same mark of arrogance Darwin had grown somewhat accustomed to as of late from Stephanie. It was almost like he was talking to two Stephanies, except one didn’t have the same enthusiasm for old video games--or at least Darwin didn’t think Valerie did.

“That’s not a bad idea. I always like a little wine when I dine, and your bravado is so cute I could practically eat you up,” Stephanie laughed.

“Alright, enough.” Darwin did his best to slam his foot down, but being seated with a girl in his lap made it rather difficult. He wasn’t familiar enough with cat fights or word-play skirmishes in general to tell the difference, but he knew he didn’t like being left out of the conversation as the two exchanged what felt like barbs back and forth. “We’re going to keep it civil, straight, clean and start back at the beginning.”

“If we don’t, will you spank us?” Stephanie put on a face that was anything but innocent.

“Worse. I’ll ignore you,” Darwin threatened.

“Oh! I see how you’re playing this. Fine then, but there isn’t really much that needs explaining. Valerie is a demon now, like us.” Stephanie smiled. “In fact, you could say she’s the first true demon born on this particular planet.”

“How though? And what were you talking about with visions? Valerie, you said you saw flashes of the past that led you to victory?”

“Yes . . . and no?” Valerie’s face twitched. “It was like I was seeing an answer through a story to a question I hadn’t asked.”

So that’s why she was worried when I said that demons went insane. She’s already talking funny. Darwin struggled to piece together what she meant. Her response felt more like a fortune cookie than an explanation.

“Why did it happen to Valerie and not the others?” Darwin asked Stephanie, brushing off the ambiguity in Valerie’s response. It’s not like I’m going to get anywhere with her anyways.

“That’s complicated,” Stephanie replied, “and to explain it would be troublesome.”

“For you or for us?” Darwin suppressed a glare. How is an explanation on why someone’s physiology in real life changed based on in-game guild membership too troublesome to explain?

“Me? I mean, it’s a lot more fun watching you try to figure it out. It’s kind of adorable, actually.” Stephanie, who was still sitting in his lap, gave him a big hug and kissed him on his forehead right between the horns. “You’re always adorable though.”

I’m pretty sure I should be angry at her for this. He did his best to eye the patronizing woman contemptuously, but he failed. Even though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why, staying mad at Stephanie, despite the fact that he had a legitimate reason to be angry, was as difficult as a good father trying to be mad at his daughter who almost died in a car wreck for totaling the vehicle. Even though fixing the vehicle might cost him a fortune and set him back years in savings, nothing could replace the life of his daughter or change how he felt about his child. “How many more will turn?” Darwin said, trying to jump ahead with more questions.

After talking to Eve and hearing about the demons’ past at the dinner table the night before, he was beginning to understand Stephanie. It was easy to sit back and assume that she was just an arrogant gamer, but the truth was much uglier. She had likely spent an unfathomable amount of time in a constant life or death struggle against a species that sought to commit genocide on a level that was unprecedented in today’s world. Hundreds of millions of people were murdered out of greed and jealousy, and she had to watch. She had to watch as her way of life, her family, her friends and possibly even her parents were butchered, yet here she was smiling. That’s why, when Darwin asked how many more would turn, he wasn’t just asking that question. He was asking a broader question with an assumption tied to it: How many people do you plan on sparing? It was that reason, that clear understanding of her intent, that left him feeling sick. It was as if he were, before even knowing the details, tacitly agreeing to her grand scheme--a plan that would pale the carnage the humans likely wrought on her own people. If she turns everyone, she wins without murder, right? He somewhat hoped that she had given up on hungering for bloodshed. He could only hope she had forgotten the sins that had been committed against her. Against me? What would my life have been like in a world with the technology to create something like Tiqpa? In a world where I wouldn’t have been an outcast, where violence wouldn’t have existed, and I could have spent an eternity in paradise? Darwin became lost in the questions, chasing the illusion of stolen happiness in a reality he would never know.

“Does he do that a lot?” Valerie asked, tilting her head to the left in perplexity. “Just kind of fade out into his own thoughts mid-conversation?”

“I wish I could say he doesn’t,” Stephanie laughed back. “But to answer your question, Darwin: Enough.”

“So there will be more like me?” Valerie asked. “Will they also be healed?”

“And more,” Stephanie nodded. “They will also be hated. Trust me on that. A crippled woman may be pitied, an average girl may be liked and ignored, but a great woman is guaranteed to be hated. You, Valerie, by race alone, are now a great woman.”

“What if you’re super-tanned to begin with, like your skin was verging on orange?” Valerie asked, looking down at her pale white hands.”

“Well, that might be awkward.” Stephanie looked stumped, as if this thought had never entered her mind before. “I suppose they’ll have to find colors that match their new look? I imagine people who specialize in jewel-toned clothes will be getting a bump in sales. Also, emeralds. Nothing looks better than green jewels on pale skin!”

“Yeah, but those poor tanning booths,” Valerie giggled. “Whatever shall the dolls do?”

“Invest in makeup?” Stephanie shrugged. “The real shame will be all the pharmaceuticals that go out of business.”

“What do you mean?” Valerie scrunched up her face.

“We don’t get sick. No sickness, no aging and no drugs needed. The only headache you’ll ever have to deal with again is an annoying neighbor or a dog that won’t shut up,” Stephanie explained.

“That’s . . . That’s amazing, but there has to be a catch, right? If you could sell this transformation, you could be a billionaire. You could change the world forever.”

“Dear, it’s not that simple. Humans are disgusting creatures. If you offer them salvation, they’ll spit on you for not doing it sooner.” Stephanie’s happy tone slowly shriveled into a sharp and biting one. “They are a spiteful people, and if we tell them what we’re doing too soon, they’ll hate us for it.”

That’s . . . Darwin frowned. That’s not necessarily true. You can’t judge the whole lot for the actions of some. He wanted to protest, but he felt like no matter what he said, she wouldn’t understand or agree. He’d be making an enemy out of the one person trying to save him from his curse and his crazy sister. “What will decide--” Darwin began with another question, but just as soon as he started, someone knocked on the door.

“Great Lord Darwin,” Justin said as he popped out of the woodwork, “Great Lord Darwin, there has been a development that needs your attention.”

A disturbance? What is he . . . The players! Darwin suddenly remembered that he had just been in town and had given a rather dramatic recruitment speech.

“I see. Valerie, we’ll pick this up tonight. I’ll send someone to bring you to dinner,” Stephanie smiled. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

“I don’t get a say in it, do I?”

Valerie guessed correctly. When it came to dealing with Stephanie, Darwin had learned to not argue much. It seemed like almost everything she did was for him, whether it was because she actually liked him or because he was one of the last Demons.

“Bring an overnight bag.” Stephanie winked and then vanished suddenly like the last slice of pizza at a party.

“So a player disturbance? Another set of people for us to kill?” Valerie’s words might have been discussing murder, but her eyes looked like those of a kid who was told there were Christmas presents under the tree.

Oy vey. Don’t tell me you really are going insane. Darwin simply shook his head and stood up. No use worrying about it now. I have enough people with problems to worry about as is. If this is Stephanie’s pet project, and she isn’t complaining, then I don’t need to spend my time concerning myself with it either. “No, I don’t think it is this time,” Darwin said to a disappointed Valerie. It’s got to be the people from the square earlier. Murder, mayhem, EXP and the chance to play as the bad guy and stand above the rest of the world in an epic, unique quest with no duplicate loot? There is no way that a true gamer wouldn’t jump at that opportunity. Darwin was confident as he reassured himself, remembering how much he had loved the bad guy arcs in many video games, regardless of his usual desire to be the good guy. As long as they didn’t make you kill the players that were loyal to you or the people that were helping you out, it was always fun to be the bad guy.

“Then who is it? You think Daniel’s cry for help on the forum has already baited a few suckers? It doesn’t seem likely. I doubt he posted it from a non-guild-leadership or game leadership position, and he probably didn’t put in either enough flair or snare to pull anyone,” Valerie said smugly.

“Then why didn’t you help him?”

“I didn’t think about it at the time,” Valerie said with a shrug.

“Okay, well then, I’ll handle the player situation. Can you dart ahead of me, find Daniel and have him take the post down altogether?” Darwin asked. I don’t need one set of people showing up for my quest and the other showing up for Daniel’s offer.

“No problem.” She mimicked Stephanie’s wink before vanishing herself.

So it’s not just the NPC guards. It’s also the female Demons. Maybe it’s just everyone but me that has the secret vanishing ninja skills. Did I miss a skill tree that lets me specialize in crazy ninja-sciences? She has it because she’s a Demon, so why can’t I? He grumbled to himself, frustrated that the most finesse he would ever have when moving in and out of any building was equivalent to that of a minotaur with both hands full trying to ride a unicycle through a wind chime shop with one of his horns stuck on the low roof.

When Darwin finally reached the exit, he saw Alex and Kitchens both standing on a makeshift platform at the door to Mt. Lawlheima. Kass, Daniel, Minx and the others were waiting inside, all laughing and giggling to each other like kids who had just spent all day putting together a prank and were now watching the result unfold.

“Hold on!” Daniel and Kass both called out to Darwin when they saw him getting ready to walk into plain view of anyone who was listening to Kitchens and Alex on the other side of the gate. “You can’t go out yet. Kitchens has been working your introduction up. Just wait there and don’t spoil it.”

“I see . . .” Darwin’s ears perked up as he tried to listen in on what Kitchens and Alex were saying.

“Alex, you said these people came here to see the Great Lord Darwin?” Kitchens said. Clearly, he already knew the answer, but he was dragging out the question.

What is he doing? Why is he carrying his voice like that? When I was talking, did I sound this silly in the main square earlier? Darwin felt slightly embarrassed at the idea. If the quest really had been spread, then whatever he had said would be played and replayed across the forum and the Internet guides for a while. That meant everyone would hear his most embarrassing, over-the-top, impromptu Demon King impression. Oh no. Please, please tell me I didn’t sound that fake and ridiculous.

“Yes, Kitchens. They came seeking an audience with the Great Lord Darwin. One even had the gall to say he was invited.” Alex was playing a much more timid and obedient role than usual.

Has he been filled in on the plan? Did Kitchens use the time that I was in the cabin with Valerie and my girl to clue in the others on our ridiculous scheme? It was the only way Darwin could rationalize the situation. Alex never used such a respectful voice to anyone but him.

“Hmmm . . . Where is he? Where is the one that claims familiarity with the Great Lord Darwin? Who claims to have been personally invited by the immortal harbinger of Hell?” Kitchens’ seemed to be playing up his dramatic voice more and more as he spoke.

I wonder what he would say if he knew that his claim about him being an immortal wasn’t just a fancy title but, if Stephanie is to believed, very close to reality. Heck, if Steph and her cute face got her way, maybe I really would end up being the harbinger of Hell. But would that make her Hell? Hmm, women and Hell’s fury are supposed to go hand in hand . . .

“This is him. This is the one who blasphemously used the Great Lord Darwin’s name!” Alex’s voice was accompanied by the scuffling of feet. Darwin looked around, wishing he could find a better vantage point, but he knew that if he could see them, then they could see him, and it would defeat the entire purpose of their little charade. The play would be interrupted and never be staged again.

“But si--” a voice protested.

Wait! That voice! That’s the dogman who was the first to step forward back in the square.

“Ah! Him! He does not lie. Release him. This man has indeed come at the offering of the Great Lord Darwin. It is he who stood first and foremost among those brave enough to take up the Calling and join Lord Darwin--even at the threat of death by his peers,” Kitchens defended the man.

“Took up the Calling at the threat of death by his peers?” Alex elongated each syllable as he exaggerated his shock. “Who would dare raise a hand against one who would follow the child of war?”

“How many people are out there?” Darwin had to ask, curious as to who was audience to this particular spectacle.

“Actually, there easily are three or four hundred people out there. It might not sound like it since no-one is saying anything out of fear for their lives. Alex did a good job scaring everyone. He had the Blue-Drakes cut trails of fire around them before landing on their sides, and there are a ton of people running around out there in nothing but their underwear,” Kass said.

“I thought that was a nice touch, getting them to show up in their skivvies,” Mclean laughed. “I didn’t know you were such a lecherous old man, Darwin, but I like your style.”

“I . . .” Darwin was about to try defending himself, but then just stopped. He may have had good reasons for asking people not to show up fully armed and dangerous, but even if he tried to explain them to Mclean, there wasn’t much of a chance of her listening. “I guess you’re right,” he said defeatedly. Is it bad that I kind of want to look around the corner even more now? Maybe I am a horn-dog. I’ll just blame Kitchens if Stephanie asks.

“That’s what shocked me too. Apparently, there are people in the kingdom below who ask for the death of our fearless leader and the destruction of his portal to Hell, the pit from which he regularly summons the Blue-Drake reinforcements from the abyss. That is why, surrounded by hundreds who had taken up this quest, this man’s bravery--these men’s bravery--at coming forth and answering the Great Lord’s call isn’t something to be overlooked. Perhaps we should spare their lives.”

“If they are answering the Great Lord Darwin’s quest, then to turn them away would be the same as calling our commander a liar. We can’t undo his word, so we’ll have to just let them in.” Alex had somehow managed to both project his voice and still make it sound quiet it at the same time.

“Not exactly. We will reward this one for standing up first, but the Great Lord Darwin did say that we would test the rest,” Kitchens corrected Alex. “Here. This is the armor of our people, and this is the weapon of our brothers. Since your hunger was greater than those around you, you are granted entrance before them. Wear our symbols with pride, and let no one say that the StormGuard Alliance is not fair and just in its rewards,” Kitchens said. Then, in a much louder and more booming voice, he added, “That goes for the rest of you! Those who work hard and let their hunger for victory and battle carry them to the front line of combat, to the very bowels of battle, and return with trophies and tales of conquest shall be rewarded. We shall match your bloodlust with our boons!”

“As the Great Lord Darwin has said it, let it be so. If they are to be tried, then I have the perfect trial. Edward! Front and center right now!”

Darwin saw a Blue-Drake carrying a Demon on his back descend the mountain as soon as Alex made the request. Did he hear from all the way up there, or did they work out this part of the staging while I was busy? he wondered curiously. As the Blue-Drake neared the platform that Kitchens and Alex were using for their spectacle, the soldier on top jumped off, dropping out of Darwin’s line of sight and likely onto the platform.

“Reporting for duty, General Alex. Who needs killing?” Edward barked quickly.

“Edward, you were one of the men on the front line during our battle with the Panda King. How many foes fell to the edge of your spear during that night?”

“One hundred and eighteen, sir.”

“What was the lowest kill count for a front line soldier?””

“Mine, General Alex. I apologize deeply for bringing you such shame even though you gifted me with the opportunity of standing front and center in the second battle of the Great Lord Darwin’s conquest.”

“A hundred and eighteen . . . Well, do you think that these men here should be held to the same standard?”

“Sir?”

“Do you think they should be made to kill a hundred fiendish people in battle in service of the Great Lord Darwin?”

“I apologize, General Alex, it’s not my place to give an opinion that you might not want to hear in public.”

“It is when I ask you. Tell me honestly, soldier. What are your thoughts?”

“I don’t think they have what it takes, sir. But if they were even able to kill one hundred in service of the Great Lord Darwin, then I don’t think that they would be any different than us. I think that if they did that, then we should give them the chance to earn honor under our flag as well.”

“Well spoken, Edward, well spoken. I think you speak truly as well. In fact, that shall be your task.” Alex turned to the assembled horde, “You are all temporary members of the StormGuard Alliance since the Great Lord Darwin himself invited you here, and as temporary members, we will give you temporary gear. If you are able to kill one hundred enemies in the service of the Great Lord Darwin, then you will be granted a position as a Blue-Drake rider, a soldier in his army.”

There was a bit of cheering from the crowd, and then more Blue-Drake riders showed up carrying bathrobes and weapons. They didn’t spare any expense, did they? It looks like we really do have an immortal army now.

“As for you, Edward, I need you to report back to your commanding officer, Breht, for further training. We can’t have you shaming us in the next battle with such a low kill count,” Alex said and dismissed the soldier.

“As you command.” Edward didn’t put up an argument, and a moment later, his Blue-Drake could be seen flying back in the direction he had descended from.

“That’s your cue. Go on out.” Minx nudged Darwin.

Darwin stood up and started walking towards the gate before Minx stopped him. “No, no, they’re on the wall platform. Did you think they were standing out there with the rabble? No one would be able to see them well. Come on, Darwin, don’t be silly,” Minx demanded.

Aren’t you being a bit hypocritical asking me not to be silly? Darwin laughed to himself as he changed directions and ascended the stairs. When he got to the top, he found himself a bit dumbfounded. There, standing below, was at the very least four hundred players, all in their underwear, and staring up at him. Don’t stutter, he teased himself. Any mistake or slip of the tongue would not only cause him a bit of humiliation, but might also reveal the fact that he wasn’t an NPC to the hordes that had followed him expecting endless loot and quests.

“Alex, is this the rabble you disturbed me for?” He looked over at the stalwart commander and then did his best to furrow his brow and look menacing as he cast his gaze over the assembled players. “Do you need me to kill them all for you, show you how it’s-- Wait . . .” he paused, doing his best to dramatize his reaction. “I know that one. That is my new pet dog, a fierce warrior among his people.”

“He’s not here to be a pet, Great Lord Darwin. He claims he is here to serve as a soldier in the front lines of our conquest,” Alex said, doing a half-bow with his right arm folded in front of him.

Kitchens, noticing Alex’s gesture, copied it as quickly as possible. “Indeed, we should reward his bravery, Great Lord Darwin, not tarnish his name for it,” he said.

Darwin pretended to take a moment to think. “And what about the others? Are they also here to fight?”

“Yes, your Lordship.” Alex maintained his bow, still not raising his head.

“Are they capable?” Darwin asked, knowing they were all probably just as talented, if not more so, as the people he was going to pit them against.

“We don’t know, your Lordship. They might be, but until we test them with a trial by fire, how can we dare let them carry the banner of those born in the lava pits of the underworld?”

The pits of the underworld? Darwin almost snickered at how serious Alex’s express was while he said that. How does he stay in character? And where does he get these ridiculous lines? “Indeed, but these men, these women before us, they are blessed! Today, we will take our first steps in a campaign of destruction that will shake the very foundation of this world. Does that excite you?” Darwin said, turning to the crowd. “Do you hunger to mark your name in the Book of Death as the author of countless entries?”

The crowd, mostly mute up until then, actually responded with a cheer. It was weak, and uncertain at first, but it was definitely a cheer.

“Is that the extent of your spirit? Are you farmers being offered a discount on fertilizer or men being offered a chance at life?” Darwin tried to draw out a bigger response. If there was anything he had learned from the job so far, it was that if people thought they should be happy or excited about something, they would be. The throng gave a second, heartier cheer. “That’s more like it. What trial have you given them?”

“They have been tasked with killing a hundred men each,” Alex said, still maintaining the bow.

“Raise your head, you two. You’ve both done well,” Darwin said, noticing that the bow Alex and Kitchens were giving him wasn’t likely to disappear anytime soon. A king in a play is still a king for a day, he thought to himself, remembering he had to be aware of every part the king had to play. “As for this lot, I think a hundred might be asking too much of them. After all, they aren’t Demons yet, are they? Instead, register them in groups of ten. Each group of ten must reach, at the minimum, a hundred kills before they will be accepted as a Demon. But . . . The first group to reach a hundred kills and the group with the most kills at the end of each day shall be given Blue-Drakes to ride and allowed to choose from some of the finest weapons and armor.”

“But, sir, what about the soldiers that don’t make the kill count or fail to get the most kills?” Alex asked, faking a sincere emotional concern for the people below.

“Then they can either drop back to the status of recruits and try again or wait for a chance to earn the honor of flying the dragons in future combat. I want to make one thing clear: You are not applying as individuals. You’re applying as groups! I don’t want to see any more than ten people in a group, but, if you think you can handle the burden with just one partner, then so be it. As for the rest of the details . . . Well, Alex, bring them their clothes and their weapons. They will need them. Any minute now, another wave of fools is going to try to crush me. That will provide the perfect opportunity for you to go out and spread my name. Kill! Honor me as the Demon King through blood and victory! Come back as a victor, or come back as a corpse!”

“Great Lord Darwin, you haven’t told them who to attack other than those that are trying to attack us. Are there any other targets?”

“There are, Alex. Order them to attack every soldier from Peh-Ting Zhou to Jotunnheim. Order them to murder and ransack all who refuse to fly our banner or seek our shelter. Send an emissary to each town and extend our offer of mercy and allegiance, for soon we will lay siege upon their lands and claim them as our own! Those who refuse to stand side by side with us on these hallowed grounds as glorious Demons shall be forced to lay underneath it as worm-eaten warnings of the coming tides of war!” Darwin knew what he was saying was so cheesy it could put the pictures on a pizza advertisement to shame, but he had to keep going. This was the character he crafted, and it demanded the type of over-the-top cheese that made top fondue offers look like amateur hour. “Are you with me?”

Most of them cheered. There were some that glanced nervously from side to side, likely uncomfortable at the idea the quest wasn’t an easy one to complete and that not everyone would get their own Blue-Drake. The idea of a competitive quest may drive some people to spend every waking hour trying to farm the right victory, but to others, it was an uncomfortable itch they hated having to scratch.

“Go! Paint the world red! When you put your groups together and register as part of the StormGuard Alliance, General Alex will give you targets. I want to know that Peh-Ting Zhou, that Jotunnheim, and the world is mine. Do not disappoint me!” Darwin turned around and jumped from the top of the wall to the ground below. It might have been his imagination, but, for some reason, as his odd little recruitment speech ended, he could almost feel Stephanie smiling at him even though she was nowhere to be seen. Is this also part of your plan? he wondered, glancing over to look at Valerie’s red eyes one more time before giving the rest of his crew a smile and a wink to let them know: We did it. We pulled it off.

Due to the growth of your faction, you have been awarded with the Rank 1 Dread Commander Ability: Soul Farmer’s Tribute

Soul Farmer’s Tribute: Whenever a player under the Dread Commander’s charge kills another player, 0.1% of the EXP gained via the killing or quest turn-ins related to the killing is awarded as tribute to the Dread Commander.
A good general will pay the price for his troops’ mistakes. A great general will reap the rewards of their victories.

Chapter 7 – Coming Clean Feels Dirty

Kass:

Kass’s mouth almost fell open as she listened to the end of Darwin’s introduction speech. Take over Jotunnheim? Conquer Peh-Ting Zhou? What is he talking about? We’re not an aggressive military power. We’re just players trying to keep some NPCs safe from death. Wouldn’t this type of conquest cause even more NPCs to die? She couldn’t make heads or tails of it and found herself feeling rather catawampus.

“Conquering the world of Tiqpa kind of sounds exciting, doesn’t it?” Daniel, who was sitting next to Kass as they listened in on the conversation, asked Mclean.

“Conquer Tiqpa, eliminate heathens, save red-eyes . . . Does it really make a difference? Knife goes in, knife comes out, time for snacks in between,” Mclean replied with disturbing equanimity, twirling her knife as she spoke.

“Dad says Darwin is fire. Fire needs to burn more, right? Burn the world! Maybe he is a Demon king . . . Burn burn!” Minx seemed to have temporarily gone full pyro as her eyes lit up at the idea of incinerating things.

“If your dad is water, and Darwin is fire, does he ever actually say what you are?” Kass looked over at Minx. Secretly, she hoped that if Kitchens gave her an element, she would be something like water or something close to ice. Ice was by far the most interesting.

“Uh huh!” Minx nodded, “He did! He did!”

“So? What are you?” Kass asked after a few moments of failed waiting for Minx to finish the answer.

“I am shhh shhh, mighty shhh of shhhushington shhhhhire.” Minx giggled with Daniel and Mclean joining in.

How is it that everyone can have a philosophical debate but me, and when I try to have one, I just get laughed at? Kass felt a little sore from the reaction. She had genuinely wanted to know what was going on.

“Soz’ Kass,” --Minx frowned with her lips while still smiling with her eyes-- “it’s just you ask what I am because you want me to tell you what you are,” Minx said to Kass’s surprise, and likely Daniel’s and Mclean’s too given their faces. “If you want to know what dad says you are, why not just ask?”

Kass, feeling rather defensive at having been called out on her intentions, felt like she was backed into a corner. “Umm . . . but . . . I actually did want to know what element your dad says you are,” she said, doing her best to lie. She hoped her flushed cheeks and distraught eyes didn’t give away her shameful embarrassment at having been singled out as the selfish one.

“Well, that’s probably for the best then ‘cause I don’t know what you are. Dad doesn’t talk about you. He just talks about Darwin this or Darwin that or ‘Darwin pants’d a snake and found two legs.’” Minx frowned.

Kass could definitely feel some resentment at the two bonding, even if she had always imagined it was something Minx was encouraging. So that explains the hostility, Kass hoped. I guess that’s just how things work. Even if you want someone to have a relationship outside of the one they have with you, it doesn’t mean you won’t still occasionally feel jealous. I remember when my dad started working longer hours on Tiqpa and coming home later than ever. I probably lashed out too, but at least I had other friends. The only people Minx has to talk to as friends are a group of strangers she met a few days ago. God, I can’t imagine how frustrating it is for her wanting to see her Dad have other friends but also not wanting to lose her monopoly on his time. Kass did her best to empathize, ignoring the barbs from Minx. “Well, forget what your dad says you are. What do you think you are? Maybe, since you’re so down to earth, you like that element? Or, perhaps, since you flow with everything, you are like water?” Kass took a few guesses, trying to lead Minx into talking about herself, partially because she felt bad about only asking the kid questions so she could put the subject matter spotlight on herself, but also because she felt a little pity for her.

“Well . . . I’ve always wanted to be fire like Darwin, so I can burn things and be rash and aggressive! Then I wouldn’t have to worry about being so passive and letting people get away with being mean, but I ended up with the wishy washy air like you. It’s too bad too. I really wish I were stronger, that I could just do the right thing like Darwin.” Minx frowned.

Is that because of bullying? Does she act too passive when people pressure her? Maybe she uses her element as an excuse for her insecurities. Kass found herself worrying more and more about the young woman, not knowing what ‘Minx the Linx’ might have suffered in the past without saying anything or acting in a way to stand up for herself. I understand, she wanted to say empathetically, I understand that feeling helpless to stop it is sometimes worse than the abuse.

“What about me, Minx?” Daniel asked, eyebrow raised.

“Oh, that’s easy! You’re water, like, wooooshhhhh! Aqua-Dan! Oh, and you!” Minx looked over at Mclean, “You’re earth. You’re all Mcgrumblalumblaclean. Rigid like a stone in your thinking . . . and probably eating. You would eat a stone if it tasted good, wouldn’t you?”

Mclean looked up and opened her mouth as if she were going to protest but stopped and closed it slowly. Then, without a single hint of protest, she just asked for clarification. “Tastes good like steak or like buttered rice? Also, how did I find out the stone tastes good? What if every stone but the ones I’ve tasted before tasted like steak, and the one I tried was just too dirty to be flavorful?”

Kass blinked. Other than the one you’ve tried before? You’ve actually tried to eat a stone before? Kass’s mind reeled a bit in shock. Who does that? How were you raised that this idea even seemed acceptable? She was half-tempted to pursue the question, but decided that a rock not tasting good was at least some semblance of normalcy on an otherwise rather bizarre idea.

“Wait . . . if Mclean is earth, and she ate dirt, would that be like some sort of elemental cannibalism?” Daniel asked, pondering the idea.

“Is cannibalism bad?” Mclean asked. Daniel and Minx, who were both previously sitting next to her, began to slowly scooch away and create some distance between them and their foodie friend. The stone eating comment might not have been that off, but the cannibalism comment made Kass shiver a bit. “No, really,” Mclean pressed, “is it really that awful? Would you rather have some gross bugs eat you when you die, or would you rather your family absorb your essence in some sort of banana soup concoction?”

“Can we go with neither? Why not let ourselves turn into pretty flowers or something?” Kass cringed at the idea of bugs eating her corpse after she passed away. Sure, it was likely to happen, but it didn’t mean she had to think about it.

“I heard humans taste like veal, the best cut of fattened calves, when they die.” Mclean was starting to make everyone visibly nervous. “I figure that if I can justify eating a cow--which is one of the best meats to eat, mind you--then why can’t I justify eating a person after he dies? It’s not like the fatted calf wasn’t smart or have emotions or whatnot. It’s not like the person will know you did it. The only people who will raise a brouhaha are the ones you aren’t eating.”

“I’m going to pretend this topic never came up and move back to the element one,” Daniel said. “What about Valerie?”

Valerie, who had just been observing the dialogue until now, perked up. “Me? Oh no, let’s not do the online personality quiz games with me.”

“Are you worried you’ll get two distinctly different answers?” Daniel asked. “One from yesterday and another from this morning?”

“I’m not that different, am I?” Valerie feigned ignorance. Even though her acting skills were pretty good, the smile breaking across her face gave away the fact that she knew exactly what they were talking about.

“Uh, yeah, I’d say so,” Daniel laughed. It was a bit of an awkward laugh, unmetered and stumbling, but it still eased the tension. “But I wouldn’t say it’s for the worse. You did get us out of a pickle.”

“I’m just wondering how you switched races. Did a game prompt come up? Did you do a quest for Alex that we don’t know about?” Kass asked, looking at Valerie’s red eyes. If I ended up with eyes like that, would I have to wear contacts so I didn’t end up looking like an albino? Can you even wear contacts in game?

“So is every Demon perfectly fit with pale skin, red eyes and black hair?” Daniel mused aloud, scratching his chin.

“I guess. I don't know,” Valerie answered and then paused. “Oh! Yeah, I never thought about that.” Valerie nodded in agreement with Daniel’s point, which apparently she figured out but didn't feel like explaining to the rest of the group. “That would be a pain.”

“Right? If one of them held up a store in an all-Demon city, there would be no way to describe them even if they didn't wear a mask,” Daniel mused to himself. “‘Well, you see, officer, he was tall and in good shape with red eyes, black hair and a pale face.’ ‘You’ve been very helpful. Thank you greatly, citizen.’”

“What about cheekbones?” Moles? Noses? Jawlines? Kass offered. “I mean, there has to be some way they do it in Asia, right? Because I'm pretty sure that, for a long time, most Chinese cities only had one predominant hair and eye color.”

“Even Slavic cities were most likely just blonde with blue eyes until the traveling began,” McLean suggested.

“Mmhmm. But according to Daniel, if you wanted to rob someone, all you'd need is artificially high cheeks from putty, a wig, contacts and platform style shoes,” Minx looked far more pensive than usual. “Would that work?”

Kass’s jaw dropped a bit “Oh God, you're not gonna blame us for giving you the idea if you rob a bank, are you? I really don't want to be stabbed in my sleep by your dad.”

Minx giggled for a moment. “He'd make sure to do it while you're awake.”

There we go. Now you're having fun again, Kass thought. No sooner had the mood finally returned than so did Darwin with Kitchens. “Hey!” she called out to him. “How'd it go?” When did you decide that our guild needs to murder even more NPCs just so we can take over Tiqpa? Despite wanting to ask, she refrained from saying aloud. Ever since their talk on the boat, his transformation and the dinner with Charles, she had come to realize that he probably had a lot more going on in his head than she knew about. Jumping to conclusions might not be in anyone's best interest.

“So we’re conquering Peh-Ting Zhou and Jotunnheim?” Daniel asked first before Darwin could even respond.

Well, now I don't have to bring up the query. Kass felt relieved.

“Well, there are only around four to five hundred players, and there is no guarantee that their level is that high. I think we are going to have to see how well they perform in the field before we count that egg as hatched.” Darwin paused to look at the gate and then at Kitchens. “How many of them do you think we could take?”

Kitchens shrugged. “It would depend on what magic they had at their disposal. We might be stunned before we can do anything at all.”

“If they didn’t have magic?” Darwin pressed the question. “Or range, for that matter?”

“Then we could easily take the lot of them.” Kitchens bared his teeth in a big grin as he and Darwin both chuckled to themselves.

Yeah, Minx, your dad and Darwin are officially bros in the drinking buddy sense. You will have a lot less quality time now. Kass felt a little bit of an urge to facepalm at their sense of bonding material. Just remember that this was your doing, Minx. You were the one that put them together, she thought. After all, Minx had been the one trying to make room for her dad to have a friend other than her earlier when she had suggested that he go to Peh-Ting Zhou with Darwin.

“Probably.” Darwin smiled. “Definitely, if we use some of those yellow snow cones,” he added. “But the real question is, do you think we’ll get more recruits? Will more turn up as time goes on?”

“Definitely, and that’s something we need to plan for. I’d have Alex issue out instructions along with the armor not to attack anyone who comes unarmored and unclothed to join the ranks of the Demons.” Kitchens nodded as he spoke, something Kass found kind of silly. It made it seem as if he were agreeing with his own idea.

“Alright, I'll take that one. Want me to work with Alex on any additional rules we might need for this operation’s safety while I'm at it?” Daniel volunteered.

“Sure, but try to include Justin in on the talks.” Darwin gave the same slow nod that Kitchens had given moments before.

“Easy enough,” Daniel said before quickly taking off.

“I’m going with him,” Minx said, following after Daniel on a Blue-Drake. Minx might not have been able to see it, but everyone else clearly saw the glare Kitchens gave Daniel’s fading form as Minx went off after him.

You were upset that he was paying more attention to Darwin than you, and you disappear as soon as he shows back up just to chase after a boy? Kass suppressed a chortle.

“That’s not really our only problem though, is it?” Valerie asked, not meeting anyone with eye contact as she focused on a fallen white feather on the floor.

Did she have any feathers left to lose? Kass thought, but then considered how it must feel. Do you think she would have cried in the shower as she watched the feathers float to the drain hole like a middle-aged man?

“What problem are you worried about?” Mclean chuckled. “Not enough people to kill?”

“I’m worried about enemies being within our ranks. How do we assure ourselves that the people who join aren’t here to do us harm?” Valerie asked, still looking at the feather.

“There isn’t really a way unless the game mechanics somehow prevent harming other players. Maybe? I don’t know. I kind of missed the tutorial on the subject,” Darwin responded with a shrug, almost as if he weren’t worried about it.

“No matter what, I'll just stab anyone that tries to double cross us.”

So everyone here is a bloodthirsty killer but me? Kass wanted to blame them, to throw out accusations, but she hesitated. Actually, this game has made me kill more people every night than a clan of cannibals trying to put together a buffet.

“Information could be deadlier to us than a direct attack. We can handle ourselves in a fight, but what if we were to have a spy among us?” Valerie didn't look directly at Kass when she said it. In fact, her eyes were still fixated on the feathers Daniel had lost as he took, but Kass could feel her eyes on her all the same. It was like she knew.

“It's a game, Valerie. I don't think we will have many spies. Who would create a character, leave their main guild and go through a ton of trials just to join another so that they could betray it? I'm not saying it won't happen, but I doubt it will be a common occurrence. Even if it did, they wouldn’t get much information on me or the rest of the guild’s upper management,” Darwin brushed off her concern.

But there already is a spy in the guild: me. Paid for by Charles, specifically to follow the ‘upper management,’ Kass thought with a wince. She had tried not to think about it too much, but the talk of a possible spy was dragging her guilt to the forefront.

“It's not just about how much information they get on you. All they have to do is relay your movements: when and where you'll be and when you’re here and when you’re not. If they followed you to a dungeon while you were on one of your little solo jaunts through monster resurrection land, they'd be able to organize an ambush and kill you while you're in the middle of a boss fight. Just having a pair of eyes will give them enough information to be deadly,” Valerie continued her argument.

Darwin seemed unfazed. “If that ever happens, then I'll just have to kill them and the boss or die and revive at the bindstone. It's not a big deal. This is just a game.”

So that's it? Now that you can resurrect, you don't take your own life seriously? Kass observed his change of attitude. “But you can't die,” Kass said. She felt like she had only mouthed the words but was surprised to find her volume carrying them to the others’ ears. “If you die, then your plan will go to Hell, pardon the expression, in a handbasket.”

“See?” Valerie waved an arm over at Kass. “Even she understands that having a spy in our ranks or you dying is a bad situation. Even she gets why your death would be the end of our symbolic recruitment poster.”

Even though Valerie had been reiterating the point Kass had made herself, Kass still felt uncomfortable and slighted by the ‘even she’ part. That said, the unpleasant nature of Valerie's less-than-hidden stabs did nothing to drive the spike in Kass's heart like the conversation about spying. I didn't agree to it, she told herself, trying to suppress the anxiety that the guilt was fomenting in her. But you didn't reject it properly or tell Darwin either, her conscience answered back.

“Aww Kass, I didn't mean anything by it,” Valerie said as she looked over at her, mistaking her troubled face for one that had been insulted. “I just meant that you usually are trusting, not naive or stupid.”

Trusting. Yeah, I'm trusting--just like I trusted those people at G.O.R.N. to make my lie better, not harder, and look where that got me . . . Kass’s internal monologue drove round in a circle as the stress caused by the conversation picked up. If only I had just been honest with Darwin and the gang about the interview. If I had, then he wouldn't have looked at me like he did at that dinner. . . He wouldn't have judged me like a traitor. It wasn't my fault. I didn't do anything wrong . . . I just didn't do anything right.

“You are okay, right, Kass?” Darwin asked this time. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't responded to Valerie and had managed to draw Darwin’s concern as well.

“I'm just not--” she began her usual defensive excuse. No, don't make the same mistake twice, Kass. It doesn't matter if they are paying you five or ten thousand dollars to be a rat. One wrong kiss and even Judas wouldn't be able to enjoy his thirty pieces of silver. “I'm just the spy,” she blurted out, much to her relief. It felt like a weight had fallen off her chest as soon as the words rolled out.

McLean, not hesitating a moment, pulled her daggers and had them touching Kass's back before Kass could even inhale again. “So that's why you weren't with us during the raid, huh? I knew something didn't sit right about you. Speak quickly: What do you mean?”

“Easy there, McLean. She outed herself, so she must have a good explanation for that comment. You're just joking, right?” Darwin looked at her with eyes that screamed, ‘Not you, not again,’ and Kass couldn't explain them away fast enough.

“I haven't given any information to anyone yet, but after dinner last night, Charles offered to pay me to follow you and report on everything and everyone you talked to. I didn’t agree to it, but he paid me anyway, and I seriously considered it. I’m worried now that I’m compromised,”

“Wait, Charles? Who is Charles?” Valerie looked between Kass and Darwin with a rather befuddled look.

“Charles is the creator of Tiqpa.” Darwin didn’t even turn his head, keeping his concentration on Kass. “He offered to pay you? How much? How much did you just turn down by telling me?”

“Enough to play games and buy anything I need for the rest of my life if I kept ratting you out.” Kass felt another pain as she said it. This time, however, the pain wasn’t one of guilt but of loss. My precious money . . . Why did I have to choose? Her heart cried as the loss of such a great financial opportunity sank in.

“And she gave that up for a guild in a video game when she could have said nothing, so you can put those blades away,” Darwin said as he looked at McLean, whose daggers slowly eased off Kass's spine. “Did he say what he wanted to gain by spying on us? Or why he needed you to do it? As the game creator, couldn't he spy on us through gameplay clips? Or other means?” Darwin shifted his attention back to Kass, who was relieved to both see and hear that he didn't hold her delay in dispensing the information against her--or at least he didn’t seem to.

“He didn't really seem to want to spy on you per say. He was interested in Stephanie. He is trying to figure out what she is up to, what she is scheming. He thought that, if I stuck close to you, I’d overhear something useful. At least, that's what he told me he was focused on.” She did her best to give all the details without telling the others, who didn't know the demons’ back story, all the things she figured Darwin didn't want out in the open. She may have been suffering from a bout of illogical honesty, but it didn't need to turn into something even worse: honest stupidity.

“Hmmm, that means we aren’t his primary targets, but given my current residence and situation, this isn’t exactly good news either. I really appreciate you telling us this, Kass. I know it must have been hard on you to be put in this situation.” Darwin put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a warm smile that made her feel a little melty.

“No problem,” Kass managed, which was difficult considering an ‘aw, shucks’ and a blush seemed to be her go-to reaction to Darwin. “You'd have done the same.”

Darwin tilted his head a little bit, his gentle grin somewhat fading before returning again. “I hope I would,” he said and then removed his hand. “I really hope that I have your fortitude of character if I'm ever faced with such a difficult dilemma.”

“Don't count me as being too deep in with the vultures, but my avaricious nature woulda taken the money, Darwin,” Mclean admitted as she sat back down. “Gotta give it to you, girl. You surprised me. Not many would give up cash for imaginary friends.”

Imaginary friends. Kass grimaced at the thought. That’s exactly what my friends at school would have called my friends from video games: imaginary, like the connections between us weren’t real. Like the hours and days I spent talking to them were for not, and my entire life itself was an illusion. She didn’t expect a fellow gamer to share that mentality or be so mercenary about it. “Weren't you just about to stab me in the back over spying though?”

“I hadn't been paid. Darwin is a good guy and a great guild leader, so it seemed logical, but I’ve got more bills than paychecks, so . . . just letting you know ahead of time, boss. But hey, I'll give you a chance to outbid me if someone tries to buy my loyalty. I'll only charge the cost of rent and food for one person.” McLean’s brazen tone made the nature of the comment seem even more disheartening.

Wow, that's a little perspective, Kass thought, feeling a bit abashed about selling someone out for something she had given to her anyway. It made it impossible to judge Mclean.

“Good to know. If I still have my bank account, I might be able to afford you. Years of a decent pencil pushing job and a ramen diet haven't left me starving,” Darwin said. It was clear to Kass that he wasn't trying to brag in the face of someone else's problems, given that the silly goof was incapable of being anything but blunt and honest sometimes, but it was also evident that Mclean would have a few other ways to take it. For the life of him, Darwin just couldn't read the air sometimes.

“Hmmm, I might have to take you up on that sometime. Maybe crash at your place for a night . . . or month,” Mclean laughed.

“Wait, the dive unit and membership aren't exactly cheap for this game. How are you paying for it if you have so many bills?” Kitchens asked, unusually insensitive for his quiet character.

“Where do you think the bills came from? Oatmeal, toast, and eggs sure as heck don't jack them up,” she laughed, the jovial mood returning.

So that's how it is. Kass even found herself chuckling.

“Well, back on topic, you're sure he was only after information on Stephanie?” Valerie asked, trying to get more details out of Kass. “Could he have been saying that just to get information on something else, disguising his motivations and target to make you more likely and compliant?”

“Huh? Well, I guess, but he was worried Stephanie would . . .” Kass trailed off as she thought back on Charles’s lecture. He was worried Stephanie’s plans would spell out doom for humanity, that she'd been using Darwin as a pawn to destroy the people who had committed genocide against her ilk so long ago.

“Would what?” Valerie didn’t let Kass off the hook even for the length a full sentence.

“Would corrupt Darwin and turn him to the dark side.” Kass twisted her lips into a frown as soon as the words left her mouth. Isn’t that what’s already happening though? The guy who was fighting for a town’s right to live peacefully is now talking about conquering nations. What makes him different than the White-Wing nation that set out to subjugate the collected people of our starter island or the PKs who attacked the town and butchered Alex’s comrades? Kass felt a bit defeated. If Stephanie’s plan was to corrupt an honest and good man like Darwin, then perhaps it was already over.

While Mclean, Kass and Darwin all considered what Kass had said about Stephanie’s plan, Kitchens just smirked. “What’s funny?” Mclean asked in response.

“It’s just that the good, the dark--all that talk makes me think that I somehow got stuck in one of those awful teen dramas,” he shrugged. “It’s not about good or bad: it’s about knowing your job, your role on the field, and fulfilling your duty.”

“You don’t care how the jobs get done?” Kass was a bit bewildered. She had kind of expected Kitchens to be heartless given the way he ripped through people in fights, but she also expected him to be the kind of samurai who had a code of honor above the others in the group.

“Why should I? Pick a goal, a target, or an objective and figure out how to accomplish it. Your morals? Your enemy won’t share them. Your enemy will strap a bomb to his chest and walk into a church, and if you don’t share his dedication to victory, you’ll just be insulting him and his past and future victims.” Kitchens flashed his teeth in a way that sent chills down Kass’s spine. “Casualties, bystanders, dead civilians: they are just the unlucky and the defeated, nothing more. Any time you get a chance to worry about those unfortunate souls, feel blessed. It means you’re still alive and your country is still winning. If, on the other hand, you find yourself outnumbered, outgunned and outmaneuvered, well, you just pull the trigger and hope you take one of them down with you. You won’t worry if you shot Anne or Bob or any of the civilians. You’ll be too worried about whether or not you’re going to be dead tomorrow or if you even have a chance of winning. What you say is turning to the dark side . . . I say it’s just a man who has embraced what he needs to be in order to get what he needs to do done.” Kitchens paused for a moment, his eyes momentarily flashing with a light. “If you don’t do whatever it takes to fulfil your duty, if you don’t complete your objective, then even if you walk away with your life, it’s your country and the comrades who trusted you with their lives who will suffer. Is it honorable to let them die because your commitment wasn’t greater than your morals?”

Darwin, Mclean, Valerie and even Kass found themselves staring at the solemn, monologuing man, all maintaining a silence befitting the implications of his final lines. Did your failure to pull the trigger cost the life of someone you knew? Kass left the question unspoken.

“I think my role was decided for me a long time before the game even started,” Darwin poked at his horns. “If I don’t play the devil, if I don’t fulfil my role, then what’s left for me? What will happen to Alex and the people and the StormGuard Alliance if I lose my sanity during a fight? If I’m the devil, and I lose control to the bloodlust, it’s just what’s expected. People will assume it’s just par for the course and go about their jobs to protect and maintain the guild as if nothing happened. If, on the other hand, I try to play the angel, then who would join? Would I have to warn every member of the possible danger of me losing control during battle? How many would stay if the NPC-saving saint turned rogue demon on them and started attacking even his allies indiscriminately? There isn’t really a good alternative. I have to embrace who and what I am.”

So that’s why you picked this route. Kass was starting to get the picture more clearly. He didn’t just go about farming mobs to protect the guild because he was worried he would eventually lose the ability to do so. He wasn’t trying to make a safe and sane guild, but rather a power-craving group of barbarians. That way, when he joined the ranks of the mindless, they’d stay with the guild and not leave it defenseless. Did he plan things out this far when he started? Am I the only one who isn’t thinking that far ahead? Kass, much to her own chagrin, slowly realized that she was the only one who wasn’t anticipating every ‘what if.’ Darwin was building a strategy based on necessary contingency plans, and she was just criticizing him for ‘following the dark side.’ Maybe I have watched too many teen dramas, Kass reflected with a sigh, feeling her emotional rollercoaster take yet another spinning, looping turn. “Well, if you’re going to embrace who you are, then what’s your game plan? How do you seal the image of the devil?”

“You could kill a bunch of random players?” Mclean suggested. “If you want people to think you’re evil, random killing is definitely a good choice.”

“What about Peh-Ting Zhou?” Kitchens asked. “Their king is dead, their army is crippled and half their players just deserted to join us--not to mention they have a nice armory and aren’t far away.”

“So we kill everyone in Peh-Ting Zhou?” Darwin asked.

“No, we don’t have to kill everyone. We just kill the council and anyone who disputes our claim. There are a few ways we could go about it, but if cut off a few heads and toss them down some stairs, your image as the devil will be set in stone,” Kitchens said as he nodded to himself again.

He really does have a habit of agreeing with the things he says, Kass observed, chortling a bit. Then she remembered the subject that had started the conversation. “Wait, before we get too far off topic, what do I do about the Charles situation?”

“Oh . . .” Darwin paused as if considering. “Just pretend like you took the deal. Get the money. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“You’re not worried he’ll use whatever information I give him against you?”

“No, I’ll tell Stephanie what he asked you to do tonight. We can change plans in the future if we need to, but feeding bad information at the perfect time is sometimes more productive than preventing good information from leaking.” Darwin scratched his chin as he reflected upon the nature of espionage. “Well, at least that’s what you always hear in the movies, and it sounds really cool when they say it. That said, I don’t know how or what we are going to disseminate to Charles to give us an upper hand in this little scheming war our two benefactors are engaged in.”

“So . . . taking the money is okay with you?” Kass double-checked. She wanted the money--she needed the security it afforded her--but she wasn’t going to take the cash without Darwin’s approval. After all, it was his neck on the line if his plans came crashing down.

“Yeah, just take it. Stephanie will help us figure things out.” He bit his lower lip for a moment. “Even if we don’t know what to do, she will.”

Is she really that dependable? Can you really trust her? Kass’s heart pleaded, half from a tinge of jealousy, half from sincere doubt about Stephanie’s character. “Okay, you’re the boss,” she said, giving up the notion of arguing. It was the outcome she had secretly wanted, but, even if things had turned out well, the end result, Darwin relying on Stephanie to solve her problems, felt rather unsatisfying.

“Now, back to that idea,” Darwin turned to Kitchens. “Do you think that, if we kill the council and claim the city, it will just fall into our hands? There aren’t game mechanics to stop that from happening?”

“Well, theoretically, there might be. They may have it set so that no player can claim the city, but, even if that is the case, cities still changes hands a lot. I noticed it with the politics on the boards. A lot of kings died and the councils took over, meaning the rulership of a town isn’t fixed. So, with that in mind, there are two possible scenarios: either we can take the city as players or an NPC has to be the one to inherit the throne. If the second is the case, then we can use Alex to take the throne, and the whole city should slide into your domain as a town owned by the StormGuard Alliance,” Kitchens reasoned.

“So either way we get the town?” Darwin smiled. “And we get to have a bit of fun at the same time?”

“If you want to look at it that way,” Kitchens said, nodding.

“Alright, let’s plan this out then so there won’t be any mistakes. I have to kill a bunch of councilmen, but I can’t die either, or it’ll be bad for the guild’s reputation. Shall we start the planning process, or do you three want to go level?”

“Plan the stabby stabby? Nah. You do that, I’m going to go find Minx and Daniel and tell them that we have people that need killing. You two old farts will hopefully have something put together by the time we get back.” Mclean ducked out before Darwin or Kitchens could even respond.

“No, I’m going to ditch out on both. I need to logout and test a few things in real life,” Valerie said, half-way bowing her head and half-way just leaning forward, before she disappeared.

“Umm, I probably need to report back to Charles and tell him I’m his new mole,” Kass said, cringing a bit. This whole thing might feel slimy, but everyone is okay with it, and I’m going to get a lot of money, she reassured herself as she walked back to a safe spot for a temporary log out. She wasn’t sure if she had Charles’s number, but she knew her dad would know how to reach him if need be.

Darwin:

“Darwin, it’s times like these when I can tell you’re a real gamer,” Kitchens chuckled.

“Huh?” Darwin asked, not entirely sure what he was talking about. They were both living out virtual lives in a virtual world, and he didn’t quite understand how this particular moment was different than any other.

“As soon as you start talking about game stuff, all three of the ladies vanish like a gambling addict’s paycheck on Friday,” Kitchens snickered.

“You’re saying that women don’t get all doey-eyed over gamers talking numbers?” Darwin laughed, but the joke had been an all-too-familiar reality for him for a long time.

“Well, it’s why I tried to get my daughter into the consoles at a young age: I heard none of the nerds ever hook up, and the stereotype persisted well enough through my high school and college experience to believe there was some merit to it. I should have done my homework though. It’s only the males that struggle. Now I have to buy ammunition every week and hope Minx’s stupid act works well enough to keep the dogs off the trail,” Kitchens continued to chuckle.

Darwin, not entirely sure that Kitchens was joking about the ammo line, forced out a fake laugh. “You didn’t do your homework when it came to Minx’s future? That’s surprising.”

“The signs were in bright neon lights. How I missed them baffles me. I don’t think I even have the right to be upset or surprised given how well it was foreshadowed. If I did act shocked, it’d put me in the same group as those silly people who had no idea smoking would be bad for them: ‘Oh, you’re telling me that breathing in smoke isn’t good for you?’ Right?” Kitchens shook his head.

“Right . . .” Darwin simply agreed as he pondered where to take the conversation from there. Rather than continuing down that potentially dangerous road, he decided to change the direction to something less life threatening than discussing Minx’s dating life in front of Kitchens.

“We need an audience,” Kitchens said.

“For the killings or for your daughter?” Darwin joked, drawing an icy glare from Kitchens.

“I will kill you if you joke about that again.” Kitchens stared at Darwin menacingly for a moment before relaxing. “But, as far as the actual killing of the council, that plan requires an audience. People will fill in the details they don’t know about anything with the worst- or best-case scenario. If they want to believe that someone is a wicked devil, all we need to do is give them the blank canvas and a frame. They’ll paint the picture and fill in the details.”

“So we need to keep the actual murder mysterious but make sure we have an audience for it at the same time?” Darwin thought the two statements seemed a bit contradictory. “How exactly does one pull that off? Just have them watch the shadows?”

“Well, that’s not a bad idea, but I think we can do better.”

“Going back to the old rolling-the-heads-down-the-stairs routine, what about doing just that? If we drag a body out in front of them right as they all show up, won’t that give them enough horror to feed their imaginations without ruining the mystique?”

“And how do you plan to get an audience there for the mayhem?”

“The same way every boss gets his employees to show up for the eighteenth pointless meeting on pointlessness: make it mandatory.”

“Don’t remind me. I used to hate the oh five hundred formations where we just stood around for forty-five minutes or the briefings about the briefings about the briefings about a problem that only one guy in a different unit had.” Kitchens winced at the memories.

“Well, the same principle should work. We just have to make sure that they have incentives to show up since we aren’t paying them with real cash or anything,” Darwin said, trying to think about how to lure people to the theater--or rather, the town--where he planned on beheading some councilmen.

“Haven’t you already done it?” Kitchens asked, looking over at Alex, who was still issuing out gear with Daniel and helping the parties break into teams.

I didn’t realize that picking your ten closest teammates would be such a big deal or take so long, but at least they aren’t doing things in a haphazard fashion, Darwin thought. “You mean to say, the initiation requirement of killing other players will force them to show up at the gates of Peh-Ting Zhou since they’ll need prey to fill their quotas?”

“Something like that,” Kitchens answered. “I’m thinking more along the lines of putting together an event and structuring it the way we want. Have Daniel or one of the others lead it, and we can probably get them to all show up at the right place and at the right time. The tricky part will be making sure we get to kill the bosses and look great without actually upsetting them by stealing their prize, so to speak. If we were to sneak into the living quarters and only take out the head honchos, then the rest of the players in the city would still be alive and still be fair game for our newly arrived minions.”

“I see. That’s not a bad idea. Even if we take over the city, we can claim that the players who didn’t join us had already naturally decided to be our enemies and then order them butchered on the spot. No NPCs will be killed in the carnage, and it’ll definitely solidify the reputation we’re after.” Darwin found himself liking the idea more and more as he mulled it over. Even the thought of him being a devil was slowly growing on him like the taste of a brand of beer after years without other options. It wasn’t the first choice he would have taken--after all, he often liked to consider himself the valiant champion of justice in most games--but it also wasn’t the last choice either.

“There you go. Now we just need to pull Daniel aside and let him know the game plan. We can’t have the entire event organized directly by you, or it will be suspicious when you’re not a part of the actual entry crew. You’ll need to have him put together the order on your behalf, as if you didn’t sanction them to do the operation, but you want it done, and you won’t have an issue when they show up to do it,” Kitchens counseled.

Since they needed to get Daniel’s attention and let him in on the plan, Darwin had unconsciously started to move towards where he guessed he could find Justin. It wasn’t like there weren’t other Demons around who would be equally effective at pulling someone away from a busy and tense group, but Justin had proven to be more than adept at handling any task that came up in a quick and expedient manner. Regardless of any complications with the task, Justin so effective that Darwin had started to rely on him for these type of tasks in spite of the myriad other capable people. It would also help solidify him within a position of authority in front of the new recruits.

“You know, he might be a good one to bring with us for the actual assault,” Kitchens said, as if he already knew who Darwin was seeking out.

“Oh yeah?” Darwin was a bit surprised. Kitchens wasn’t often the type to rely on others.

“He’s got a good sense of direction, has probably already mapped out the city better than us and he can sneak in and out of almost anywhere undetected,” Kitchens said, listing off Justin’s resume. “Unless you want to try the stealth game on your own?”

“We don’t have to be too stealthy, do we?” Darwin grinned. He remembered that last time they had visited the city, no one had even noticed him until his horns popped out. “After all, sometimes it’s just about being confident, right?”

“Yeah, that’s a fair point. I think he’d be a good tool to add to the team before we move out, but it’s on you, boss,” Kitchens said, deferring to Darwin’s preference.

“Nah, let’s have him help Daniel and them.” Darwin didn’t want the NPC to be caught up in the frontline fight if things went awry. He was okay with him and Kitchens taking the risk, but not adding in someone whose death would be permanent. “How about we just handle this between the two of us . . . unless you don’t think it’s possible?”

“Don’t let your ego get in the way of the mission,” Kitchens quickly retorted. “But you are right. The two of us should be sufficient for the job. We can do it without him if you insist. It only means it’s going to be more difficult given that we will have one less weapon in our arsenal.”

“Great, I like to hear that.” Darwin felt reassured. It wasn’t that he didn’t think that he could handle it even by himself if need be, it was just comforting to have that opinion reinforced by someone who seemed to have a lot more experience with these types of things. “Justin!” Darwin shouted out as he saw his target in view. “Justin, we need a favor of you,” he called out to Justin.

“Yes, Great Lord Darwin, how may I be of assistance?” The scout immediately dropped everything he was doing and rushed over to Darwin.

I hope he wasn’t busy with something too important. I’d hate to think us calling him over caused him to stop bringing medical supplies to a doctor or something. Darwin felt slightly off at how quickly Justin had abandoned his duty to come over. “Well, see, the thing is, we need to talk to Alex and Daniel without being seen by the new recruits. Is there any chance you can bring them over?”

“Yes, Great Lord. Wait just a moment.” Justin sprinted away before Darwin could add anything else to the order.

“You sure you don’t want to bring him along?” Kitchens chuckled at how fast Justin disappeared. “We could just tell him to do it for us, and he would probably come back with the task completed and decorated with a bow tie before you could finish a cup of tea.”

“You think we can find a way to kidnap the cookie baker from Peh-Ting Zhou?” Darwin asked, remembering the delicious snacks as soon as tea was brought up. The tea was okay, but those cookies were divine. “By the way, in a town where there very well might be a cow-like humanoid, where do they get the milk?”

Kitchens’ face paled for a moment. “It’s sometimes best not to know how they make the sausage . . . if you catch my drift.”

“You’re not even a little bit curious? I didn’t see any farms with cattle on the way here or in the town at all, but milk and cookies . . . Just saying,” Darwin responded, continuing the line of speculation.

“Imported. They have to have been imported.” Kitchens seemed determined not to entertain any additional possibilities.

“Whatever, but if you see a bull walking through town, know that there were no cows in the field,” Darwin couldn’t help but laugh at the idea.

“Hmm, speaking of bulls . . .” Kitchens hesitated for the span of one breath as he stared at Darwin’s horns before quickly dismissing whatever idea had just popped into his head. “Never mind.”

“You needed us?” Daniel said as he and Alex walked over.

“Yeah, how is the item distribution going?” Darwin thought. “Have you dismissed any of them to go on their bloody rampage?”

“No, not yet. Even if I did, most of them would probably hover around. They are having a bit of trouble deciding on what groups they are going to break into. When you mentioned that it was a collective effort with team score counts, it was like they suddenly turned into a group of thespians stuck on the opening line of Hamlet’s nunnery scene. For the life of them, they’ve spent what feels like thirty minutes trying to figure out what team they want ‘to be’ or ‘not to be’ on,” Daniel groaned, facepalming. “I swear, it’s not rocket science, but the little villain wannabes in this game apparently have about as many friends as the only white guy in a school for self-proclaimed social justice warriors.”

“So we have another hour or two before they get their stuff together and head out?” Darwin asked, trying to nail down a time frame.

“Maybe two at max, but more likely thirty to forty minutes more. Once one group gets going, the rest will fall into place like musical chairs, and we’ll just sweep up the remainder into a final team,” Daniel clarified.

“That might not be enough time if they leave after only thirty minutes.” Darwin knew he was faster on foot than many of them, but he also knew that he didn’t know the city and might have trouble hunting one or two stragglers down. “Before letting any of them depart, could you round them up and give them a boring speech about killing and maiming stuff? Drag it out like the opening ceremony at a high school's orientation. Try not to make them suffer as much as that, but definitely stall it like a principal who thinks he is cool enough to wing it with a few anecdotes.”

“Oh, man, I remember how bad that used to be. Do you need me to torture them with anything else?” Daniel chuckled a bit.

“Yeah, lead them to the gates of Peh-Ting Zhou. Tell them we’re going to war and that all the kills in this event will count double. Don’t let them know, but have Alex’s scouts trail them and count the kills so we know how the groups are doing.”

“That won’t be necessary, Great Lord Darwin,” Alex interjected. “We will do that, but for some reason, when I assigned the quest, the gods have blessed me for my obedience to your orders by giving me a special method to track groups and kills. The magic box’s group section is still blank since no one has signed up, and, as a result, there are no kills attached to it yet, but I have confidence the method granted to assist me will work.”

“Didn’t your people abandon the gods?” Darwin scratched his head, remembering the conversation they had a long time ago back on noob island.

“That may be so, but if you didn’t give me the blessing, then either the gods or fate itself has gifted me this boon to better complete my service for the empire.”

“The empire?” Kitchens asked this time.

“Yes, sir. Darwin’s grand empire, the StormGuard Alliance,” Alex said with pride. “Sometimes the troops just shorten it and call it the Empire or the Alliance.”

“I don’t think those two usually go hand in hand.” Daniel’s face showed he was doing his best not to laugh at something Alex was so proud of.

“Why not?” Alex looked puzzled.

“Well, in our culture, a union, an alliance, a republic--they aren’t the same as an empire. Anytime you have a group that is represented as a bunch of people working together and deciding on things equally, they are always the good guys. On the other hand, empires, kingdoms or any group where only one person decides everyone else’s fate, well, those are the bad guys. We don’t often call one political setup by both names,” Daniel answered.

“That’s silly.” Alex’s mouth shot open and his eyes went wide as he stared in shock at Daniel’s explanation. “Everyone knows that masses of people generally make poor decisions and that the average person isn’t as well-informed on any given topic as an expert or specialist. Your culture has the two backwards. I’d much prefer the wise and benevolent dictator, our Great Lord Darwin, to track the course for our future over a group of my peers--even if you could get them to agree on a course.”

Darwin thought for a moment. Well, he’s not wrong, and it does make sense. Mob mentality is frowned upon and cursed as the smartest of people acting in the dumbest of ways. Then again, we also say democracy is the end-all be-all of good leadership. “Well, take it or leave it, Alex, but that is his people’s culture.”

“Not yours though?” Alex looked for clarification as if upon Darwin’s answer would satisfy more than simple curiosity.

“Of course not, Alex. I’m from the Empire, and our people have a mean but handsome leader who doesn’t tolerate group decisions,” Darwin laughed. He was rather liking the evil role he had assumed. If anyone ever had a question about moralities, ethics or philosophies, he could just take the barbaric and cruel way out of the conversation. This is definitely the time for a good ole’, deep-voiced ‘muwahaha,’ he chuckled to himself. “And speaking of not tolerating group decisions, why are we having this discussion when there is a city out there that needs razing?” Darwin said, laughing loudly.

“That’s a good point,” Daniel conceded and joined Darwin’s laughter. “Shall we serve the city with or without fries, Master Darwin?” He added the last like he was a waiter at an old-fashioned diner.

“Master? I’m quite sure his title is ‘Great Lord Darwin,’” Alex corrected Daniel earnestly. The fact that he was sincerely trying to edify Daniel about the title, and not just continuing the joke, only added to the humor and made it even more difficult for the other three men to stifle their chuckles.

“Of course it is, General Alex.” Daniel was, unsurprisingly, the only one of the three able to pull a straight face back together as he addressed Alex’s sober tone in like kind.

“Good,” Alex said to Daniel and then turned to Darwin. “We shall stall them with this ‘high school orientation speech’ and then leave to raze Peh-Ting Zhou. Will you be joining us at any point? Would you like a report of our success, or are you coming to visit the battlefield?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” Darwin didn’t want to mention that he was going to be inside killing the councilmen in case he failed and ended up respawning back at the main city.

“Then we shall depart. I’ll have a report of every group’s performance and the success by the end of the day.” Alex bowed and then left.

“I guess I’m off to stall a bunch of our new members while you two do, well, whatever it is.” Daniel sighed and followed after Alex.

“So instead of spending too much time here planning, how about we just go kill them and figure out how along the way?” Darwin asked Kitchens.

“Sounds good,” Kitchen agreed. “We have time to find those cookies, right?”

“Of course. The world always has time for cookies.”

Chapter 8 – Dungeons and Pandas: Dice, Die and Die

Kass:

Kass reached for her phone as soon as she logged out. Truthfully, it was more out of habit than any possible eagerness to accept Charles’s lucrative but rather shady offer. Ugh. Why does the right thing always have the wrong impact on my checking account? If only being a good girl with a conscience paid as well as the deviousness I’m expected to produce, I’d feel a lot less sick in the stomach about this, Kass grumbled. Alright, I suppose I need to call Dad first and then get the guy’s number from . . . Kass stopped as her thumbing down to find her dad’s number revealed that she already somehow had Charles's contact information in her phone. That’s not creepy at all. . . Kass frowned as she looked at the number. When did he even get my cell phone? Did he take it out of my pants pocket while I was asleep, crack my passcode and put his phone number in there? Kass began to feel a lot less comfortable about the decision she was making to work with him. Well, it’s more convenient, but still . . . Ugh. Eww. This type of behavior outside of a 1980s romantic comedy is just downright creepy.

“Hello, this is Charles’s phone. How may I help you?” a seductive female voice answered.

Wait, when did I dial the number? she looked at the phone, forgetting that she had even hit the ‘call’ button in her confusion.

“Hello?” the voice, clearly not anyone she knew, responded again.

His phone . . . Does he actually have the technology to make a sentient, artificial intelligence system to answer his phone, or is it like a secretary that just took on the identity of a phone? she wondered for a moment, then panicked. Crap, I need to say something or she is going to hang up. “Umm, this is Kass. I’m calling to speak to Charles.”

“Ahh, Miss Kass, I’ve been expecting your call. You’ll have to forgive me, but I had your service provider upload our contact information into your phone for you just in case no-one had delivered it to you.”

Oh, that explains how . . . Yeah . . . That’s a lot less unsettling, Kass said to herself, mentally toning down her level of creeped-out as the voice apologized. “Well, I’m calling because there is something I need to talk to Charles about,” she pressed once more.

“That’s wonderful news. He is actually really close to you right now and left instructions for me to have a car to pick you up for lunch if you called in the next fifteen minutes.” The voice was rather perky and happy about the whole thing.

Too happy. Kass didn’t get it. How does someone who has to work for that guy stay so cheerful and upbeat? Do they have special schools on how to sound polite and happy for an entire day of answering phones for a weird boss? She had experienced the phenomenon before when she called customer service, but it didn’t mean she had any real understanding of how it worked or was even possible. If I had to sit on the phone for twelve hours a day listening to annoying customers complain about problems that were easier to fix than macaroni and cheese, I’d probably shoot myself; but, somehow, they maintain that cheerful ‘all's right with the world’ attitude like you’re the only person who has called in the last year. She marveled at the concept, still distracted and a bit wigged out by the stress of the whole situation, and completely forgot that she was on the phone.

“Miss, I’ll be sending a nearby car to your location. Can you be ready in five minutes?” the chipper secretary asked, wanting clarification.

“Five minutes? Umm . . . Sure. Where is the lunch?” Kass asked, looking at the jeans and t-shirt she wore. She had thrown them on haphazardly, originally thinking that would be all she’d need to wear for the rest of the day but now she debated if she could change them to something fancier or more appropriate with only five minutes’ notice.

“It’s going to be at a hole-in-the-wall barbeque place ten minutes from your current location. Charles is scheduled to be eating alone, so I’m sure he’ll enjoy your company. The car will be there shortly. Have a nice day!” With that, the call finished with a click and silence took its place.

Well, that doesn’t even give me much of a chance to respond, does it? Kass was left feeling somewhat like a child being told when and where she was supposed to be. Okay, hole-in-the-wall barbeque with no notice. Screw it. I’m going to just . . .

Kass’s eyes wandered to the dress crumpled up in the corner of her closet from the night before, the fancy one she had hoped would impress her crowd of hopefully soon-to-be fans. No, I wore that last night. I can’t wear the same dress twice in a row, can I? She only had a moment to think about it before a car honked outside.

Crap, it hasn’t been five minutes yet, has it? She checked her phone. It has! What the heck? I’m spacing out way too much. She sighed in exasperation and dashed down the flight of stairs and out the door while squeezing her phone, half-afraid it would fall out, half-feeling kind of depressed that it was essentially everything she needed to leave the house with. Well, everything but the pepper spray my dad always insists on me taking anytime I have a date. I don’t need it though, do I? Kass looked at the giant, muscular bodyguard opening the door to the old-fashioned, tinted-windowed car. Nah, wouldn’t help me anyways.

“Watch your feet,” he said as Kass hopped in. He hadn’t even managed a ‘hello’ when she first walked outside, but making sure she knew how a car operated seemed to be important. I guess, to most of Charles’s henchmen, I’m just the kid who passes out too easily, she mentally reprimanded herself.

The ride was smooth--uneventful, but smooth. The whole ten minutes were filled with an awkward and permeating silence as she sat in the back of the vehicle. There was a blackened glass partition that didn’t let her see out the front and forced her to stare awkwardly out the window instead. Her attempts to strike up conversation with the driver fell on either deaf or uncaring ears. When they finally arrived at the destination, she found her door was locked, and she was made to wait as he walked around and opened it for her. Too bad my prom date never had this type of manners. She couldn’t help but laugh at the steroid-infused-looking suit-monkey as she climbed out of the car. “Watch your feet,” he said again as she exited the car, and this time her tennis shoes scrambled to find solid footing as she escaped the high-sitting vehicle.

You and the feet, she almost mumbled under her breath before catching herself. It probably wouldn’t be in her best interest to insult a man four times her size with some witty line about him and a Hollywood director.

“Miss!” A perky lady holding a clipboard holding a yellow legal pad shouted from over at the entrance. “Miss! I’m glad you made it on time. The meal is about to be served.”

“What did I order?” Kass looked at the buoyantly bouncing blonde staring back at her. That voice . . . This is the girl from the phone, she realized, suddenly connecting the dots. Her gaze drifted upwards as she looked up at the sign above the restaurant: Lester’s Creepy Cuts. The food must be really good for this business to stay open.

“Kale with apples and lemon water,” she said.

“At a barbecue spot?” Kass found the entire concept of ordering kale and apples at a type of restaurant notorious for sugar-coated slabs of meat to be ridiculous, but didn’t feel like pursuing the topic past the initial question.

“Yes, ma’am. Charles just doubled his order, so you’ll have to take up any bones you have to pick with him.”

Any bones I have to pick? The problem is the lack of bones. She groaned at her own pun. “Alright, well, thank you for calling the car,” Kass gave the assistant or secretary or whatever she was a slight nod of her head, which felt rather silly, and walked in to find Charles seated at a table alone near a window. The table in front of him was decorated with two massive racks of ribs that Kass could smell all the way from the doorway. It was as if they were heaven.

“I thought we were eating kale?” Kass asked as she sat down in the chair opposite to Charles.

“We are. Kale is the name of the pig that was used to make the ribs in front of you,” Charles replied with a grin. “The doctor said I needed to eat more kale, spinach and lettuce, so I talked to Lester and told him he needed to name some pigs Kale, Spinach and Lettuce. Now, I can truthfully tell my doctor at the end of each month that I’ve been eating plenty of each.”

“You know that you could just actually eat the green, leafy things the doctor insists on, right?” Kass laughed as she eyed the rack of ribs in front of her. I think Lester and Charles have a good idea here. I need to start renaming my food so I never have to lie to my dad or diet again.

“Don’t jest, Kass. We both know that a life without good food isn’t a life worth living, right? A hundred years would be too few to make up for the joy one would give up if he stuck to the diet the doctor deemed necessary.” Charles scoffed and then, with a sort of grace that should never accompany ribs, dug into his meal. He was the first person Kass had ever seen eat ribs without getting a single bit of the sauce anywhere but on the tip of the fingers he was using to hold them.

“If you say so,” Kass said, and in a much less refined manner, picked up one of her ribs and started eating. Needless to say, napkin sales would triple overnight if even a single sorority’s worth of girls ate the same way Kass was as she devoured the succulent flesh in front of her. Even a B-rated zombie flick didn’t have so much over-the-top tearing involved when the monsters tucked in to their fresh, meaty delicacies.

Charles, likely noticing the way Kass was eating, scooted his chair back half an inch. “It’s not going to run away, you know.” He gave her with a scrunched-up, patronizing look.

“I am told that they were born with legs, even if Lester fixed the problem, so you can never be too certain,” Kass retorted before taking another bite. She was positive she was being judged, but the way the flavors exploded like firecrackers of savory goodness in her mouth left her unable to muster up enough concern to curtail her embarrassing behavior.

“I am not entirely sure the pigs have been irradiated enough to worry about rapid regrowth. They weren’t slaughtered straight out of a comic book or anything.” Charles chuckled and then, after a moment of condescension, went back to his own meal.

It took Kass less than five minutes to fully consume the lunch, and, when she finally finished, she leaned back in her chair, wishing all the while she had a belt to loosen as her stomach assaulted the button tenuously fastening her jeans. “I thought about it, and I’ll take the job,” she said, watching Charles elegantly work his way up and down the rack of ribs.

“Mmmm.” Charles replied with only a sound, which didn’t come off as agreement, acknowledgement or even disapproval, without ever looking up from his course. After waiting a minute, he signaled one of the guards. “Get her a beer to wash down the meal.”

“Is it okay to be . . .” she began asking out of politeness, but then stopped short and scrapped the question for fear it might end up being misunderstood and rob her of a frothy, ice-cold refreshment. “Thank you,” she said instead, lowering her head ever so slightly again.

“It’s only polite,” Charles said, leaning back like Kass had after he cleared his own plate. “Do you read a lot?”

“Occasionally. I’m told I should do it more, but gaming eats up a lot of my book time,” Kass replied with a shrug.

“That’s good. Reading is good. It’s one of the few ways we can cram all the important parts of a lifetime’s journey into a midday afternoon and exercise the imagination at the same time.” Charles complimented her, and his patronizing look was all but gone as looked her and grinned.

“So I take it you read a lot?” Kass inferred.

“Occasionally, but I tell myself I should do it more.” He mimicked her first answer down to even the tone. “In fact, the other day, I was reading a story about a man who did the right thing and was punished for it.”

“Hmm?” Kass cringed. Why does it feel like I’m not going to like this topic? “If he did the right thing, surely there was a happy ending, right?”

“You’d think, but this particular man wasn’t the protagonist. In fact, throughout the history of our books, our religions and our stories, multitudes suffer for no other crime than the fact that they weren’t the protagonist. The author wasn’t in love with them like he was their main character, and as a result, they paid for it.” Charles sighed as he looked at the bottom of his clear glass of water. “To this day, I haven’t ever seen a hero in a sci-fi or action story, a religious text or fantasy book, or even in the news, that didn’t leave a trail of destruction the reader is supposed to just gloss over and ignore. It’s like it’s saying, ‘Don’t mind these people. Don’t mind their lives, their wives, their children. They don’t matter because they aren’t the protagonist.’ So we don’t. We gloss over it and ignore the family that was destroyed for some random trinket the protagonist wanted.”

Charles flicked his glass like it was a paper football and the water at the top splashed out and onto the table. “It’s actually rather a shame the way things are--the way we have to treat people like pieces on a chessboard.”

“Like pawns?” Kass tried to join the conversation by making the analogy more precise.

“No, just pieces. Every piece but the King, in fact. Even if the queen dies, it doesn’t matter as long as the King is still intact . . . as long as the protagonist, the player, makes it to the end.” Charles sighed again. “Is your beer good?”

“Yes, it’s delicious. But . . .” Kass paused. She wasn’t sure of what to make of Charles’s impromptu little speech. “But are you feeling like a side character?”

Charles looked at Kass and shook his head. “No, Kass, that’s not my issue at all. My problem is that I still have a shred of humanity left. I’m not entirely immersed into the story like a reader, like someone who can overlook the family’s lives, but I am interested in seeing the story progress and the protagonist get his trinket.”

Cold. There was no other way to describe the twisting feeling that struck her gut. She was cold, violently so, as her senses flared and the feeling of danger pressed against her like a sheet of wet metal on a chilly day. “What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes darting around the room. What is going on?

“I do hope you enjoyed the meal, but I can’t have you working for me anymore. You’re unreliable. When you were avaricious, it was comforting. Your acquisitive nature gave you a price tag complete with purchase instructions so visible and well-marketed that even cable television companies couldn’t push a product better.” Charles stood up.

Kass tried to do the same, but the terror had somehow weakened her legs and left her shaking. She was forced to sit and watch as he smugly walked over to the cash register and threw down a few hundred dollar bills. “I . . . I didn’t have a price! I wasn’t some greedy woman trying to sell out my friends! I wouldn’t have even done the interview if I had thought for one minute Darwin would’ve been hurt by it,” Kass protested. She realized that she was angry, and it gave her the vigor she needed to regain command of her motor functions. Not only did she manage to stand up, but she stamped her feet as well.

“Hmmm . . . a misunderstanding on my part,” Charles said with a shrug. “That just means you were always unusable. You also could have believed in our goal. That would have been helpful too, but sadly, you think Darwin is the protagonist--not me.”

“What are you going to do?” Kass suddenly realized that everyone had left the room but two guards. There were no other customers, the blinds had been pulled down, and, whoever or wherever a Lester and staff were, it wasn’t at their restaurant. It was just a big empty room with tables, two bodyguards, Charles and Kass. She really regretted not bringing her pepper spray. Well, not that it would have helped me here. Kass began searching for a way out of the building.

“Do you need to ask? You’re a liability, a side character, and, as unfortunate as it is, I am going to have to dispose of you. There really isn’t another way around it,” Charles replied coolly.

“How . . . How did you know?” Kass asked. Were we monitored through game developers? Did he personally watch the character? If that’s the case, why would he have needed me at all? What tipped him off? Kass’s feet pressed against the wall, and she reached out for the blinds, opening them so that passersby on the street would have a view. It wasn’t the best method of protection, but she couldn’t think of anything else.

“You really don’t think anything through, do you? I suppose explaining anything would be a waste. I hope you enjoyed your last meal. I know my plate was delicious. Later.” Charles patted the shoulder of one of the guards as he moved towards the door. The large man proceeded to pull out a pistol and point it at Kass.

“Wait! Wait just a--” The guard interrupted Kass’s plea with three well-placed bullets in her abdomen. It was a sharp, fiery pain that Kass had never felt before. It didn’t just hit, it didn’t just hurt--it pushed. It pushed her away, out of her body, as if the first thing it meant to kill was reality. She was still watching the world through her own eyes, but it was as if she were suddenly in a first-person shooter where she wasn’t in control. All she could do was watch and feel the empty pit in her stomach grow as her hand moved on its own to hold one of the wounds. Then the guard that had shot her turned around and left too.

“You shot her in the stomach, didn’t you?” Charles knew it was true without even having to look at Kass for confirmation. “Can you never just shoot them in the head?”

“I’m sorry, boss. It’s too messy that way. Have to leave something for the casket,” he apologized. “I’m really sorry, boss,” the murderer lamented again. He turned for a brief moment to admire his handy work before leaving with Charles.

As soon as the door closed behind the three men, Stephanie appeared from behind the counter and jumped over it. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh, dear. Look what they’ve done.” She rushed over and grabbed Kass, stopping her inevitable collision with the floor. “Look what he’s done to you. That monster . . . That monster did this to you.” She stretched Kass out and cradled the young girl’s head in her lap with one arm. The other was kept busy fiddling with something Kass couldn’t see.

The whole thing was too surreal for Kass. She couldn’t find the strength to even say the words on her mind. The cold spread from the wounds in her belly to her legs, then moved up and started circling her heart. She couldn’t quite fully believe yet that she was dying. She stared upwards at Stephanie, but just looking at the now-black-haired woman felt a bit silly. She expected a regal queen when she thought of Stephanie, one who never lost her composure for even a moment, but here she was panicked and distraught, with bloodshot eyes and flailing hair, as her free hand kept searching for something. What is she looking for? Kass wondered.

“Am I going to die?” Kass finally choked out the question. She couldn’t see the wounds, but she knew the feeling. It hadn’t happened to her before--she didn’t remember dying before at least--but it was still an unmistakable sensation that her body knew without question and without having to be answered. Kass only bothered asking because while her body knew, her mind still didn’t want to accept it. “Is this it?”

“Well . . .” Stephanie stroked Kass’s hair. At any other time, Kass would have reeled from having Stephanie touch her, let alone stroke her hair gently like a mother caressing a daughter, but this time it felt nice. It was comforting and warm in a way that she needed. “The good news is you’re not dead yet. The bad news is the gunman wasn’t an amateur. The bullets are very well placed. I can’t think of a single human who could live through the injuries you’ve got. I mean, at this rate . . .” Stephanie kept talking, but Kass couldn’t hear. She had only wanted to close her eyes for just a moment, but now they felt too heavy to open again. Even breathing became difficult as she lay sprawled out in Stephanie’s lap. I just need a little rest. It’s okay if I--

Darwin:

“So . . . What’s the plan?” Darwin asked Kitchens as the two of them approached Peh-Ting Zhou.

“I would normally say we just storm the gates, murder everyone in sight who’s pointing a weapon at us and then go from there, but I imagine we need to be quick, don’t we?” Kitchens looked at the gates as he replied. “Drawing attention will slow us down, and if we get slowed down, we’ll end up failing to accomplish our goal before the crowd arrives.”

“Yeah, we should probably treat it like it’s a sold-out venue and assume that they’ll be showing up early. Even if Daniel does a good job of stalling them out for a bit, Alex is expeditious and efficient in everything he does. He’ll cut right through that forest like a knife through butter.”

“Don’t you mean a hot knife through butter?” Kitchens corrected his simile.

“Really, Kitchens? Your sword goes through people, monsters and armor, and yet you’re worried that if your knife isn’t warmed up, it’ll be slowed down by the butter?” Darwin chuckled.

“That's . . . You do that to people a lot, don’t you?” Kitchens observed.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Darwin said, feigning ignorance.

“You leave out bits and pieces of sentences to bait people into verbal traps,” Kitchens elucidated.

“So if we can’t use the gate, do you think we should try the whole sneaking in on a caravan thing?” Darwin asked, changing the subject.

“You don’t think that would take too long?” Kitchens looked at a few of the caravans going through the gate. “It would work, the gate is understaffed and crowded, but that also means we’d end up having to wait half an hour to an hour just for the caravan to get permission to pass, assuming they didn’t catch us.”

“So it’s a risk that could put us behind schedule and push us back to your Plan A an hour late?” Darwin summarized Kitchens’ explanation.

“Yeah, it is. Do you have any other ideas?” Kitchens asked without turning his head from the city.

“Well, how about that wall? I don’t know how much you weigh, but . . .” Darwin looked up at one of the walls. How exactly do the strength and speed stats work in this game? I can carry a sword that should weighs 20 pounds like it’s a feather, so what about a person? If I can toss a spear hundreds of yards, how far can I--

“One of us could try throwing the other over the wall?” Kitchens finished Darwin’s thought.

“Yeah, it doesn’t sound too ridiculous, does it?”

“Not too much, but it will be noticed. You will be noticed. Once we get over--assuming we can actually get over--what’s your plan?” Kitchens asked.

“Well, we can’t just go with your door plan on the roof?”

“You mean kill everything?”

“Yeah, it seemed good. It had a solid lack of thinking that I really appreciated.” Darwin laughed as he struggled to actually plan past the initial landing.

“Except that it would still put us back to being bogged down in the time consuming task of killing everyone in the town before we make it to the council chambers,” Kitchens pointed out.

Logic. Annoying and pestilent logic. “Alright, you know what? We’ll just wing it and try to sneak in. I’ll toss you up, you silence the guards and then toss me down a rope, and we’ll go from there.” Darwin was annoyed with the fact that a better strategy just wasn’t coming to mind. I’m usually a lot better at thinking up a quick tactic, but how am I supposed to put a game plan together when I don’t know the first thing about what security is even going to be? Darwin frowned. This was either going to be a really tough or a really easy day; but, no matter which of the two it ended up being, it promised to be a long one.

“If you say so, boss,” Kitchens stressed the word ‘boss,’ as if he were only going along with the half-cocked plan because Darwin had ordered it.

Darwin, sensing that twinge of insubordination, grumpily grabbed both Kitchens’ arms, did a spin and hurled him. They weren’t exactly close to the wall, and it wasn’t exactly like Darwin had taken the time to carefully calculate the trajectory in his head beforehand. He had moved so quickly that even Kitchens looked surprised as he rocketed towards the top of the wall. Darwin could almost make out Kitchens’ attempt at waving as the cat-man flew up and actually landed--most likely on his feet as Darwin guessed all felines should--on the other side, disappearing from sight altogether. Darwin waited a few minutes and then a coil of rope shot over the tiled mud and plaster wall that topped the massive, stone barrier.

Darwin grabbed hold of the rope and started to pull himself up. Kind of wish we had brought Daniel or Mclean. They would have been able to just carry us to the top and that would have been that.

When Darwin got over the side of the wall, he wasn’t met with a gruesome scene of corpses, severed limbs and a wall sprayed with enemy entrails like he had expected. Instead, the only thing he saw was Kitchens holding onto a rope, the one Darwin was using to climb up, and an armored Feline next to him giving a slightly impatient look.

“So is that all you need it for?” the guard asked as Kitchens handed the rope back to him.

“Yeah, thanks a lot for the help.” Kitchens gave the other Feline man a smile and a shallow bow as the soldier took his rope.

“No problem. When I heard that our kind was part of the group that did it, well, you can imagine how happy I was.” The guard gave Kitchens a pat on the back and then turned to start leaving.

“That was strange, wasn’t it?” Darwin observed as the sentry disappeared.

“Yeah. When I first came up here, he looked more shocked that I didn’t take the front door than the fact that I had apparently leapt over this ridiculously tall obstacle. He didn’t even seem to consider for a moment that I was an invader trying to conquer his kingdom.” Kitchens looked a bit disappointed.

“There, there, buddy.” Darwin patted him on the back in the most overly exaggerated manner he could pull off. “There will be plenty of other guards to use your blade on in the future. Let’s get a move on.”

“It wasn’t that. It’s just . . .” Kitchens gave Darwin a strange, concerned look that he couldn’t quite make out.

“Something feels off?” Darwin guessed at the other man’s concern. To an extent, he felt the same. The guard hadn’t just been complacent and incompetently trying to ward off invaders; he had even helped the invaders by lending them a rope so they could climb up.

“Yeah, you could say that. This feels like we’re taking a Trojan horse.”

“It might be a trap, admiral, but what are we going to do about it? Actually, I have a serious question: Why didn’t you have rope?”

“Why would I carry around a rope?”

“Why wouldn’t you? I mean, what if we were in a dungeon with a super-steep wall, or we were trying to invade a town full of beasts with really tall fortifications? Did you never play board games? Always carry a pole and a rope. It’s not like it would eat inventory space with Tiqpa’s storage system,” Darwin shook his head in dismay. How does he play an MMO without knowing the golden laws of the original dungeon games?

“A rope and a pole?”

The two of them descended the flight of stairs to the ground level of the city, walked past two guards as if nothing were out of the ordinary and continued on through the marketplace towards the capital. Not a single person seemed to notice that the giant, horned man was out of place or in any way noteworthy, which was quite odd, given that Eve’s quest should still be active, and Darwin had forgotten to raise the hood on his outfit.

“Yeah, a ten-foot pole, to be exact,” Darwin specified.

“What would you even do with a ten-foot pole?” Kitchens cringed, his mind likely farther in the gutter than maple leaves from three autumns back.

“The uses for a ten-foot pole are . . .” Darwin paused. He knew at least a hundred, but he also knew that, in most MMOs, there wouldn’t be any. Creativity had dropped off in the gaming world ever since things were standardized by gaming scripts. Trying to explain how a ten-foot pole could be used as anything but a weapon in most videogames would be as fruitless as explaining the differences in red wine to someone who refuses to drink alcohol. “Never mind.”

“If you say so.” Kitchens accompanied his concession with a shrug. “By the way, you didn’t bother with a disguise?”

“Well, I’m a nearly seven-foot-tall, humanoid guy with horns and red eyes. Not much you can do to cover that up,” Darwin answered and frowned. “I’m just surprised that none of the guards have even bothered making a move to stop us--or none of the players for that matter.”

“Yeah, does this mean that the quest is no longer in effect?” Kitchens’ brow furrowed he squinted his eyes as he looked around suspiciously, likely trying to find a clue as to what could be causing the lack of defense.

“So, I know we planned to come in acting like assassins, sneak around and murder the council, but . . . what exactly are we supposed to do if this keeps up?” Darwin nervously looked at one of the guards who waved at him as he passed through the market on his way to the center of town.

“If they keep acting like it’s a quaint country town, and we’re here to drop off pie for the new neighbors?” Kitchens asked as one of the town’s trusted defenders gave the two of them a little bow of the head.

“Yeah, that.” Darwin sighed. It’s much easier to go around maiming and butchering hateful attackers than it is to do it to the friendly, pie-wielding neighbor. “We could ask them what’s going on.”

“Ask them why they aren’t attacking us? You’re not concerned that might make them actually attack us?” Kitchens laughed. “It’s like asking your girlfriend why she is still dating you. Even if she has plenty of reasons, you’re making her reconsider it with every inquiry.”

“Hmm . . . That’s a good point, but we don’t have to ask one of the guards. We could ask a townsman?” Darwin looked around. “We could even ask one of the players. Since neither of us read the forum that often, maybe we are missing out on some information?”

“And deal with what might happen when the players remember the quest reward and gang up to kill you? Stick with an NPC trader. Traders will look at a dangerous pair that they should, under all law-abiding and nationalistic notions, attack or apprehend and instead try to barter with the deadly duo. We’re much less likely to encounter any problems if we go to one of the vendors to find out what’s happening,” Kitchens suggested.

“Can we not refer to ourselves as a ‘deadly duo’?” Darwin asked and then remembered that previously Kitchens had kept calling him ‘fire’ after some elemental affinity and cringed. I really hope he doesn’t go around referring to me as a flamer with the usual serious and unaware mentality of most fathers have, he grumbled to himself. “That said, a shopkeeper does sound like the safest option. Let’s go with that one,” Darwin said, quickly agreeing with the suggestion in hope of the name-calling situation being forgotten.

“Whatever you say, boss.” Kitchens stressed a condescending tone into the last word this time.

His feelings didn’t get hurt about me rejecting the title ‘deadly duo,’ did they? Darwin sighed as he walked up to the closest shopkeeper. It was a rather tall Reptilian that was yelling around to every passerby that his ‘wares’ were the best in town. His wares, of course, were oils, specifically beauty creams. Does this make him a bonafide snake oil salesman? Darwin mused to himself, trying to decide if he could actually get away with that loose interpretation of race and occupation. He's not actually a snake, but it's close enough to call him a snake oil salesman instead of lizard man oil salesman, right? He assured himself of his pun, only to hear a chuckle from Kitchens.

“Snake oil salesman. This stuff just writes itself.” Kitchens’ face showed the effort he was putting into suppressing a louder laugh.

“Let's just hope that none of his beauty creams are labeled salacious secretions or exotic excretions,” Darwin said snidely.

“We have both of those in stock,” the lizard man said, tipping his narrow-brimmed fedora with his tail as he spun around holding two jars of questionable-looking gunk. “Just name your pleasure and buy your miss the perfect treasure: an age reversing lotion or a weight reducing potion.”

“Uhhh . . . I'll pass.” Darwin thought for a minute. Wait, does he have any potions that might increase my effectiveness in combat? Have I gone this long inside a game without researching alchemy? “We just came here for some information.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I have the perfect set of lists for any young man . . . if you catch my gist!” The vendor reached under the table and pulled out several books worth of lists. “So let's cut straight to the coin. What's your type?”

“My type?” Darwin stepped back, a bit shocked.

“No need to be shy. You name it, and I've got the info on it. Looking for a pretty panda? I got books. Only looking for a certain age? Don't worry, we can narrow that down too. We even have books based on just the face. You name your type, and I'll find you the perfect date.” The lizard winked.

“Are you trying to pimp out girls?” Kitchens put his hand on his katana and started to unsheathe it. “Or are you just gonna kidnap them?”

The salesman, seeing the aggressive gesture and Kitchens’ ready stance, put up both his hands and started giving his defense “Oh, no, sir! I only trade in information. What's their favorite flower, where they like to hang out. . .? I'm just a simple merchant who compiles information. If you already have a girl in mind, I can tell you what her choice dish is and what music she likes. I can't assure you a date or even a smile.”

So he's worse than a pimp. He's an assistant pickup artist. Darwin facepalmed. “We are just wondering why no-one has attacked us,” Darwin said, deciding to cut straight to the exact information he wanted.

“It could be those gaudy muscles or that terrible fashion sense. Maybe what you need isn't creams or info, but a stylist and a tailor. For a small fee, I can close up the shop right now and take you to the best tailor in town. Mark my words, by the time the sun sets, women will be lining up to pounce you. My boy is real good, hooked me up with this fancy coat and hat to match the northerners.”

“That's not what I meant,” Darwin explained, facepalming for a second time. “I mean . . . Wait, do you have any information on us in those books?”

“Oh, not really. You're a total mystery to everyone, except for the fact your tastes are more lacking than the paper bag boy,” the salesman scoffed.

“Paper bag boy? That seems like an odd thing to pick out. Do they have another option for groceries? Like a plastic bag boy?” Darwin asked.

“Option for groceries? Plastic? I don't know what you're talking about. I meant the boy who runs around wearing a paper bag. Don't tell me that ragged-up buffoon’s name is ‘Plastic,’ and that's the new kings type,” the salesman hissed scornfully.

“Huh? The new king?” Darwin’s mouth hung open a minute.

“Well, aren't you? Last we heard, the Panda King went to kill you and turned up dead. He did try to kill you, right? There isn't another giant human with horns running around, is there?” The indignant scaled salesman continued his scoffing.

“So wait . . . Your monarch dies trying to kill me, and that makes me the king?” Darwin’s mouth opened even further.

“It's not like the decision doesn't make sense. It's not like this was a democracy, and their king was some beloved and chosen ruler they would fight for long past death. No, the only people who would fight for a monarch’s name after his death are the nobles with something to gain . . . or lose,” Kitchens began to elucidate. “Given that no matter which race was in charge there would always be tension, it's likely the people didn't have a super strong attachment to him or any of his predecessors. A society that wanted to avoid unnecessary civilian bloodshed during these types of conflicts might adopt a policy like that just to avoid further fighting after their army was defeated. A kind of ‘well, if we follow them, they probably won't stab us’ kind of mentality.”

“That . . .” Darwin wanted to point out how silly it was--that if anyone attacked and killed his country's president, his countrymen would fight to the bitter end--but then he thought about it a little further. There wasn't a chance in hell he’d fight for a leader he didn't care about. As long as the new rulers were generous or didn't change anything, he'd be fine with the result. “That does make sense. So I'm the king of Mt. Lawlheima and Peh-Ting Zhou?”

“It appears that way,” Kitchens laughed.

“But what about the whole ‘kill the head honcho’ part of our plan? I mean, unless you're feeling a bit regicidal, we need to think of something quick,” Darwin groaned. This was going to be a lot more complicated than he had anticipated.

“Well, what do you have in mind?” Kitchens asked the question, but his look was the knowingly smug one he used that made Darwin understand he already knew what Darwin was going to suggest.

“A king should meet his council, don't you think?” Darwin grinned. Forget complicated. I'm just overthinking things.

“A king should indeed meet his council.” Kitchens smiled too.

“I'm surprised no one told you about it sooner,” the uppity lizard chortled while shaking his head. “Hey, you're the new boss. See? Wasn't hard to say. Why hasn't anyone done it before? Well, forgive my rude compatriots and their inability to inform you at the gates. If you want to meet your new advisors, they should be waiting for you in the main chamber of the palace. They usually stay there all day and night gossiping and bickering like boys trying to decide which fighter is better.”

“Why does that need to be debated? I'm the best there is.” Darwin gave a hearty, egotistical laugh, complete with an opening ‘Muwahaha.’

“Maybe today, maybe the best alive today, but what if you were compared to the warriors of old from centuries ago?” the merchant asked.

“Doesn't matter. I win,” Darwin said with a laugh and then flexed his royal authority, “or are you questioning your king?”

“Sir, I'm a humble trader. I may pay taxes to the crown, but my only king and god is the coin. Of course, if you buy enough of my products, I'll call you whatever you want.” The lizard-man’s tongue snaked out as he spoke the last phrase before punctuating it with another wink and a slap on Darwin’s arm.

“Alright, well, let's get moving. We have a schedule to keep before all hell breaks loose and we start losing our own townspeople to our own troops.”

Darwin thought about Alex breaking through the door and attacking everyone indiscriminately under his own orders. “Yeah, good point. See you round, Liz.” Darwin waved and left. He knew where the palace was. Who didn’t? It stood out more than that one girl with a callipygian figure and yoga pants in the gym trying to do bent over rows off a squat rack.

“Are you sure you don’t have time to buy some skin treatment creams before you leave? You don’t want to show up to your coronation with dry and flakey skin, do you? I can even try to get some hair growth for you if you want to try regrowing your fur!” the salesman called out as Darwin and Kitchens walked towards the palace.

“You have to admire his tenacity at least,” Kitchens remarked. “If I were younger, I might have been tricked into buying one of his products for the wife. She used to love that expensive stuff.”

“Really? You’d think, with a game like this, no one would be conned. I mean, can’t you just edit your skin texture in the character creation screen?”

“I meant if I met someone like him in real life.”

“Ah, well, in that case, yeah, he does seem good. But, for a moment, I thought you were going to tell me you would have been conned into buying information off of his list,” Darwin laughed. “I mean, I don’t know . . . Maybe back in the day that’s just how things were, old man.”

“You realize it’s a bit hypocritical to call me old man, right? I am almost positive that when I log off, you’re the old man in the group,” Kitchens assumed correctly. “You calling me old man is like the two babies in the group arguing over which one is the whelp.”

“Yeah, but, while you’re still here, I need to take the pot-shot before I lose the opportunity.” Darwin chortled more. “It’s not like we’re recruiting people who know what a flip phone is on a regular basis.”

“That’s true, whipper-snapper,” Kitchens returned fire. “So you think there is something preventing the other players from attacking us here? The title of King may explain why the NPC guards have been treating us well, even if they seem annoyed to do so, but it doesn’t explain why the players haven’t been doing anything.”

“Have you actually seen any players?” Darwin noticed that, while there were still a few players here and there, there weren’t significant numbers in the streets like there had been last time. He couldn’t be entirely certain, as the players may have just been keeping their distance, but they were generally fairly easy to identify by the way they clustered together. Players often chose odd garb they considered fashionable and insisted on holding their weapons and wearing armor in town as if they were going to be forced into a brawl at any moment. The NPCs, in contrast, were generally dressed like professional role players who broke character as often as a struggling extra afraid he’d lose his last paycheck if the director heard him say one word without a fake accent.

The last big give away, one for which you had to be close enough to the NPCs to listen to them talk to tell, was their speech patterns. Most of the players spoke in choppy, to-the-point sentences that featured as few words as possible strung together in an order that would make a seventh grade language teacher cringe. NPCs, however, always spoke in full sentences that were somehow always magically grammatically correct--even though Darwin hadn’t seen a single school his entire time in Tiqpa. How did they even learn to read and write? He found himself baffled after thinking about it.

“Not enough for a city this size. Did we scare them all away?” Kitchens’ head turned quickly from side to side. “Do you get that eerie feeling that we are walking through a bad horror movie too? That there might be some weird terror waiting for us around the next corner?”

“You go to the paranoid option quick, don’t you?” Darwin observed.

“Well, you know, war and winter. Those that don’t worry over the small possibilities either end up dead or turn out to be lucky when one of those two hits. Last I checked, we are in a war . . . or, at least, we were,” Kitchens noted.

“That is a good point, but maybe you’re overthinking it.” Darwin didn’t actually think he was. ‘Eerie’ was an understatement. He felt more creeped out than the only girl at an anime convention; and, even though he didn’t see anyone looking at him, he had the strange sensation of eyeballs following his every moment. He just knew that the only thing he could do was operate on the knowledge he had at hand and trust in his zweihander. “Maybe the good players all just joined our guild, and that’s why the city is mostly empty. The ones that are left are just the crafters.” And let’s hope you believe that. I don’t want to put too much time into worrying about something I can’t change.

“So that’s how you think it is?” Kitchens looked at Darwin for a moment, an odd, flat glare, as the two continued walking. “Then I suppose it wouldn’t hurt one way or the other if we just dashed at full speed. After all, we do have a schedule to keep up with.”

“No. No, it wouldn’t,” Darwin replied with a nod, and the two took off sprinting. It wasn’t just their ordinary pace, and it was like a game as Darwin ducked, weaved and spun around the people walking through the market. He was going so fast he could feel the wind pressing against his face stronger than any natural breeze or gust ever had as he gave it his all. At one point, failing to find a path between a rather obnoxious group of hippo-sized bear people, Darwin jumped over them and didn’t land until he was dozens of feet past them on the other side. He was having so much fun playing his little impromptu game of ‘dodge the pedestrian’ that he almost didn’t notice when they reached the gates of the palace. He would have kept going right past it if Kitchens hadn’t yelled ‘stop’ at him once or twice.

“We’re here,” Kitchens said one last time in a voice that made Darwin think that his statement of fact was more than just that and had the dual-purpose of making sure Darwin didn’t keep barreling down the road. “In excellent time, I might add.”

“Yeah, I kind of hope we didn’t knock over too much on the way.” Darwin looked back at the wake of his run. The people behind him were still staring at the two strangely, as if a celebrity and a famous axe murderer had showed up at the same time.

“Should we call a guard, have them get all prepared for us, or just go in unannounced and make them nervous?” Kitchens questioned, looking up at the rather large building.

“You mean like a dad who wakes up too early and catches his kids still playing games at 5:00 a.m.?” Darwin asked as he scaled the marble stairs toward the ornately-gilded, double-door entrance at the top.

“Angry father catching the kids gaming it is,” Kitchens said as he followed Darwin up the stairs.

“Might as well get the persona right. I’m told heads will roll at this meeting if we don’t get all eight copies of our Monday TPS reports from each person in the department.”

“TPS report? That sounds computery. Have you worked in an IT department?”

“No, but it just seemed like an appropriate line. If I was to go into how ridiculous and redundant some of the military procedures can be, well, you might have a real hard time believing me,” Kitchens laughed. “I mean, we had a guy show up late by half a minute at the beginning of the month once, and by the end of the month, they had us showing up at 4:00 a.m. just to make sure we didn’t miss PT that wasn’t scheduled to start until 7:30 a.m. My cursed punctuality had me there at 3:45 that time. And that’s just an average day for the enlisted.”

“Remind me never to join the military.” Darwin’s gamer instincts caused him to recoil at the thought of all the potential EXP wasted from sitting around and doing nothing for two and a half hours.

“Nah, it’s good. I’d go on about how it enforces discipline or some other mumbo jumbo, but, to be honest, it’s the dental and health insurance that really sells it. They have great dental,” Kitchens replied and shrugged.

Darwin, having reached the top of the stairs, opened the door to find nothing. It was just a large empty chamber with fancy, elaborate paintings of everything from waterfalls to cherry blossom trees on every wall. There were all the kinds of nature paintings, in which a few leaves would be beautifully laid out on the canvas, and then there would be nothing else but blank space surrounding the painted the leafy bits. It was eye-catching enough to make both Kitchens and Darwin pause until a guard interrupted their thoughts. “Can I help you?” the halberd-carrying lynx hybrid said, pulling the two men back to reality.

“Yeah, we’re looking for the council chambers,” Darwin said, not seeing any marked doors or guiding placards in the room.

“Right this way, King Hornsenstuff, and, might I say, you are dressed impeccably,” the guard turned and took the two of them towards one of the walls.

“King Hornsenstuff?” Darwin asked as he touched one of the horns on his head.

“Oh, that’s just what the council calls you since no one knows your actual name,” the guard answered without even turning around to address him. “We were told that you won a tournament and proved yourself as the noblest and greatest fighter in the city before overthrowing the king, but for some reason, the previous tenant to the crown threw away all the records of the event, so we only had hearsay to go on.”

And no one remembered my name? Well, I guess the primary witness and many of the other secondary witnesses probably died either in the ring that day or in the big battle later. Darwin sighed. Oh well. I can enter it in the records later. That is the prerogative of the victor, right? To alter the records to ‘best’ reflect history?

“Now, I will warn you,” the lynx-man continued, “I’ve been told not to let anyone into the council chamber because they are currently in the middle of a serious debate discussing important matters of state.”

“But you’re taking us to them regardless?” Kitchens asked.

“Of course! Have to follow the line of authority, after all. My mother always taught me to do whatever the boss says--unless his boss says different.” He chuckled as the three of them approached a wall with a waterfall painting on it. “Here you are,” he said, pressing a petal of a flower painted near the waterfall. When he hit the button, a clicking sound was heard, and the entire wall slowly slid open to reveal an even larger room with what looked like fifty different were-beasts eating finger foods and drinking what Darwin could only assume was wine or sake huddled around the floor in groups of five or six and rolling dice.

“Who dares disturb a council meeting! Can’t you see we’re up to important work!” one of the men yelled as they all turned to see why the door had opened.

Up to important work, are they? Darwin glanced around at the strange markings, the old-fashioned character cards and the high numbered dice. They are! They’re playing board games! “Very, very important work, I’m sure,” he said as sarcastically as possible.

“I don’t know. Maybe they’ll learn the importance of a ten-foot pole,” Kitchens mocked with a laugh. “Perhaps they’ll even be sure to carry rope.”

“This is because of the old man remarks, right?” Darwin laughed.

“Yep,” Kitchens snickered. “Us old men have to have a good memory, or there would be no point in a long life.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but we are deeply immersed in serious matters of state,” the loud-spoken one who first assaulted Darwin’s ears with his snappish complaint about being interrupted replied in a much softer, but still condescending, manner.

“Matters of state, huh?” Darwin remained skeptical as he looked around.

“It’s really quite simple. We break into groups of five--or six if we have leftover people--and play as the opposition. We run simulations on all possible attacks or outcomes over and over again in a safe and secure game setting. We try our best to conquer the town, and then, if we win, we talk about what weakness was exploited,” a rhino-man explained without ever looking up. He looked as if he were too busy with his character sheets to be bothered by anything around him.

“That’s . . .” Darwin considered if this would count as red teaming. “That’s actually pretty ahead of the times. What scenario are you running now?”

“Well, we were, at least until you interrupted us, carrying out simulations on what would happen if you rejected the crown and came to butcher us all. We have to shore up our defenses and do what is best for the peasants, but we’d much rather just have you accept the crown and move on like every other good-natured king before you. After all, you clearly don’t have any issues with the beast-born servants as your right-hand man seems to be one,” the rhino said as he put on some spectacles and turned around to face Darwin. “You are going to take the crown, right?”

“Where is the crown?” Darwin looked around for it, wondering if he were speaking literally or figuratively.

“Oh, Tompkins, go fetch him his crown,” the rhino said while waving his hand like he was brushing dirt off some imaginary object hanging in the air.

“Yes, Councilman Tato.” The guard that had shown the new king into the room bowed and then disappeared. While he may have said that Darwin was higher up on the food chain, he treated the council with more pomp and circumstance than he did Darwin.

Tato? Like Potato? Darwin pondered for a second as he looked at the rhino-man, but, as soon as he saw the were-beast’s shape, he understood immediately where the name came from. Whoever programmed him must have had a good sense of humor to name that poor guy Tato, he laughed to himself.

“Is something funny, King . . . Well, what is your name?” Tato asked, the others still staring at him, one or two even trying to sneak in more gaming.

“Just this whole situation,” Darwin said honestly. Then, seeing Tompkins returning with a crown, he reached out. “Let me see that thing.” The crown was as ordinary as crowns came. It was solid gold, but didn’t have a single jewel to it, and the sides looked like they had different thicknesses throughout. “Is there a reason this has no decoration and kind of looks beat up?” Darwin asked as he stared at the odd, junky crown. He had never anticipated that a solid gold object could so closely resemble a piece of trash.

“It gets resized a lot,” Tompkins answered before Tato or one of the other dice-rolling fogies could finish clearing their throats to interject with their own--Darwin could only assume sarcastic--response.

“Oh.” Darwin looked back at the misshapen piece of head jewelry.

“Differently-shaped heads always taking power and whatnot. We will need to get a smith to fit it to your head, of course. I am pretty sure yours isn’t the size of a panda’s, but that can take place before the coronation or whatever fancy event your kind do to mark the occasion of claiming regency,” Tato said with a sneer, talking down to Darwin again, his tone filled with condemnation and disgust.

Don't like being ruled by someone who looks like a Human, eh? Darwin guessed at the reason. Every race represented in the council probably held the same ire toward Humans and anything that resembled one as the Panda King had. While the townsfolk and merchants he had stumbled across were very clearly humanoid in appearance, these councilmen were as close to looking like their original beasts as could be. They didn't have any traces of humanity on them. “That's fine. I'll figure it out. Actually, there is another problem we need to address. How is this little group put together?”

“I beg your pardon, sir?” A new voice, one coming from a giant polar bear who had looked up at Darwin, said tersely.

“Are you elected? Do the people come and choose you to represent them?” Darwin clarified his question.

“Those plebs? Of course not. We were hand-picked by the king himself as the finest representatives from the royal families of Peh-Ting Zhou.” The polar bear couldn't have spoken with a more snobbish accent if he tried.

“The king? You mean me? I don't remember picking any of you.” Darwin’s sighed. It wasn't out of frustration, but rather relief at how easy they were making this on him.

“He meant the old king. You're not daft, are you?” The rhino groaned, and then, almost as if realizing too late that he had said this to the king and not one of the other humans he considered scum, he tacked on, “I mean, not that I think you are. I am just saying, if you are, that's why we are here, umm . . . Just in case.”

“You were loyal to him, right?” Darwin asked the room. They all nodded, some even verbally acknowledging the question with a ‘yes’ or an ‘of course.’ “Well, then that makes three reasons I have to kill you all,” he said as he calmly pulled out his zweihander.

“I was worried you'd spend forever talking to corpses.” Kitchens started his usual slow walk toward his first chosen opponent.

“Tompkins, if anyone escapes this room while we are busy, I will hunt you down and kill you,” Darwin threatened before turning back to the paling group of old, snobby aristocrats.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Tompkins readied his halberd like a staff as he guarded the only exit to the room.

“You're not going to make me do all the work, are you?” Kitchens asked as first blood was drawn, and a fat ape lost its head. The second it happened, the cowering, quaking crowd, which had sat frozen in place like a shocked deer caught in the headlights of Darwin's initial declaration, burst into high-pitched screams, pleads and sniffles as they panicked and started to flee towards the exit.

As understandable as their noisy, frightened flight was, it was also grating on Darwin’s ears and his patience. The room almost echoed their pitiful screams. Why won't any of them just fight back, he complained internally as he chopped one of them in half. On the battlefield, they come to you. It makes it easy. Here, there is so much more chasing and effort involved. He felt malice boil in his blood as his second swing fell half an inch short of a good clean cut through a fleeing pig. It still killed the pig, but it just wasn't the crisp, down-the-middle cut he had wanted.

“You feel like barbeque after this?” Kitchens asked, likely inspired by the smell of pieces of Mr. Bacon being roasted on Darwin's flaming blade. After all, it had definitely made Darwin hungry.

“I am, and I think there should be enough here for everyone in Daniel and Alex’s group to eat.

“So this will go from company-murder-retreat to a nice guild picnic?” Kitchens chuckled as his sword cut through another one of the sniveling bureaucrats.

“Sure.” Darwin nodded assent as his sword sliced cleanly through the arms Tato had held up in self-defense.

“Question, boss: I get that they were loyal to the previous king, and we need something for the guild, but what's the third reason we are killing them?” Kitchens called out over the screaming councilmen as he methodically whittled their numbers down. It had been less than a minute, and Kitchens and Darwin had already wiped out well over half of them.

“Have you ever heard the story of Agathocles?” Darwin asked.

“I may have. The name sounds familiar, but then again, every Greek name from the old days sounds familiar.”

“Well, throughout history, there have been tons of evil rulers who have risen to power through violence or cruelty. For the early part, they mostly end up with a fate that I’d prefer not to have: They died. Just look at how many times the Italian city states changed hands. That is, of course, with a few exceptions in the early chronicles, my favorite being Agathocles,” Darwin said, beginning his story as his sword sliced and diced through the dwindling crowd of politicians.

“Agathocles was the lowborn son of a good-for-nothing potter, but he went the military route instead of following his father’s footsteps. Through use of merciless tactics and a cunning mind, he was able to rise to the position of Praetor of Syracuse. Now, this normally would be the end of the career path for most military men of his low birth, never having another step up to take, but he was smart about it. He, under the guise of a concerned citizen and respected military commander, assembled the people of the senate as if he was going to tell them of some important strategy or matter of business that needed to be addressed in order to help them deal with the Carthaginians. Except, when they all got there, he butchered them. He had well-paid mercenaries and men loyal to him waiting for his order, and they massacred what is said to be the ten thousand richest citizens in Syracuse that night, making Agathocles both rich and uncontested. Essentially, he went from praetor to dictator with a single command; and, since there were no dissenters or men loyal to the previous senate left alive, there was no one to challenge him in times of hardship during the war with Carthage that followed. He lived a long and happy life, dying a rich and fat man with many heirs--something I hope to do myself.”

“Die from obesity?” Kitchens replied with a smirk.

“No, live a long and happy life,” Darwin responded, a bit miffed.

“So you read a lot of history?” Kitchens asked. “If you did, you’d have that in common with half of my old barracks. They used to read all the time. Kind of surprised me. I expected to be serving with dumb grunts, but the free time had us all studying something.”

“Nah, it was something I read as a required summer reading for one of my haughty, better-than-thou English teachers. I was one of the dorky kids that actually did the reading.” Darwin paused to shrug after decapitating another fat, piggish councilman. “But the point remains: We need to butcher everyone here and every family that had close political ties to the previous Panda, or we’ll end up like Cesare Borgia.”

“I take it that one didn’t properly kill off his dissenters? Or, at least, he didn’t in the fifty-odd television shows made about him.”

“And, for his mercy, he paid a price I’m not too eager to share.” Darwin sheathed his zweihander. Everyone in the room but Tompkins was dead, and their blood was making it so that Darwin and Kitchens were having to slosh more than walk across the room as they returned to the entrance. “Tompkins, how many guards do we have nearby?”

“There is only me and nine others on duty in the palace at the moment. The garrisons surrounding the palace are a bit understaffed too.” Tompkins let a big smile spread across his face. “Apparently, some maniac killed off all the poor tigers and bears that used to work there.”

Man, this race stuff is a big deal here, isn’t it? Darwin noted the guard’s joy at the bears and tigers dying. “Alright, well, find as many people as you can. I want these bodies taken to a butcher and every part of them turned into steak-sized slices for cooking.”

“The heads,” Kitchens reminded Darwin.

“Oh, yeah, except the heads. Leave those intact.” Darwin’s eye fell on one of the men whose head had been split right down the middle. “Well, as intact as they are now. Just put them in a bag and bring them to the gate. Kitchens and I have to go greet our new military wing.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Tompkins’ tone was much more reverent after Darwin removed the acting advisors from their positions.

“So, this may wrap up the NPC issue, but we still need something for our men to kill, and we still need to handle the players who may be after us, and . . .” Kitchens stopped and looked at Darwin. “And you already know what you’re going to do, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Let’s just go have a nice feast. Hey, Tompkins, before you take care of this meat, I need one more thing from you,” Darwin said as he looked over at the lynx. “I need you to tell every citizen of this town to stay inside and lock his doors for the next few hours. Tell the bars to close their doors and not let anyone in who isn’t a citizen or resident of this city.”

“Umm, Your Highness, I’m not entirely sure how easy it will be to do that,” Tompkins replied hesitantly with a frown. “I can try though.”

“You have one hour. I need all these tasks done, and I don’t care how you do it. Here, take this.” Darwin handed Tompkins a hundred gold pieces. “Go hire criers if you have to. Those doors better be shut, and the streets better be empty.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Tompkins bowed and then practically darted out of the room.

“You think he was afraid you were going to make the list of things to do longer?” Kitchens asked as he stared at the dust trail Tompkins left.

“Maybe. No point in worrying about it now though. Let’s go enjoy a barbeque,” Darwin laughed, and the two of them headed to the gates where Alex and Daniel were supposed to meet them soon.

Chapter 9 – Crap, I died! Hit the Reset Button.

Kass:

Light. Red, blurry light obscured Kass’s vision as she struggled for breath. What . . . What is that light? Turn it off. “I just need a little more . . .” She choked on the words as her eyes fluttered, struggling for clarity. She tried to turn her head and look around when pain shot through her stomach and rippled up her chest and into her throat. Ow, ow ow ow. She grimaced, clutching the spot where the first bullet had entered. Then she heard clicking, the familiar clicking her brain instantly recognized as keystrokes across the mechanical keyboard her dad sometimes insisted on using when working at home. It was accompanied by a smacking and popping sound. Dad . . . Is he here? She tried rubbing her eyes, the effort of moving creating more tremors of discomfort where she had been shot. When she looked over to see where the clicking was coming from, she saw Stephanie’s back--or at least she thought it was Stephanie. After all, no-one else she knew chewed their bubble gum quite like that.

While she couldn’t see Stephanie’s face, she could see the back of her head with her black hair tied up in a ponytail and draped over the chair she was sitting in. She was leaning back in the chair with a keyboard on her lap, watching three different monitors. “Stephanie?” she asked, the words failing to come out well. The injury had taken its toll, and, even though she was mostly certain that she hadn’t been shot in a lung, it was too hard to breathe in or push out enough air to generate much of a voice.

“That’s usually my name,” Stephanie responded without even taking a break in her typing.

Kass wanted to form some retort to the smart-aleck response, but her pounding head and breathless voice left her muted as she did her best to sit up without causing herself any more harm.

“Oh!” Stephanie threw the keyboard onto the desk in front of her, turned her chair around and popped up in half a second. “I am so sorry! I completely forgot about you. You know how work is,” she said as she walked over to the bed Kass had been lying on. “How are you holding up? Do you feel okay?” she said when she noticed Kass wasn’t responding. She put a hand on Kass’s forehead. “Hmm, no fever, and you did talk earlier. You just feeling weak?”

Kass nodded. Weak is an understatement. I feel like someone ran over me with a truck and then backed up for good measure, just to make sure I wasn’t still around.

“Alright, good. That’s great. I have to be honest: I didn’t know if you’d actually live. You were bleeding pretty badly, covering the floor like a bottle of ketchup seeking revenge against its angry potato rivals on a white plate, so I kind of . . .” Stephanie paused, frowning on one side of her mouth in a way that puffed out only her left cheek. “I kind of patched you up, but it wasn’t enough. We didn’t have time to see what blood type you were, so I gave you some of mine. I couldn’t give you as much as you needed, given that I needed to stay alive too, but I gave you enough to live and get you back here. That killer headache you are having, like a hangover, it’s probably the dehydration. But yeah, the bullets are still in your gut. I wanted to wait until you had enough blood back in you before I rooted around and pulled them out. Dumbest thing you ever see on television shows from the 1900s is that every joe schmoe in an action film has to pull the bullet out as soon as they get to a safe spot . . . like them digging around with grubby fingers or metal tools is going to somehow undo any damage and not make it worse.”

“But . . .” Kass tried to hold onto her thoughts. She wasn’t sure if she felt the headache as much as the fatigue. “But how was that enough?” she managed. She wanted to get out a longer sentence: How did a little bit of blood stop me from dying from three gunshot wounds? She didn’t know much about medicine, but she was pretty sure she should have lost enough blood that a simple transfusion from someone who still needed to carry her out of the place wouldn’t be enough.

“Well, let’s just say that the creator gave us something special in our blood and leave it at that,” Stephanie said, pulling her rolly chair over to sit next to Kass. “Now, that said, how are you holding up? I put orange juice on the nightstand for you. I imagine you’re going to need a lot.” Stephanie grabbed the glass and gently put it in Kass’s hand.

Kass, not realizing how thirsty she was, found herself trying to down it all at once. Halfway through, however, she ended up choking and almost coughed it up and had to take a break for a moment. “Thanks,” she said as she came up for air and took a brief respite from gulping down the orange juice. “So . . .” Kass started, but the words were taking a while to get out. So why were you there? she wondered to herself, again failing to finish her thought aloud.

“There, there. Are you really sure you want to be talking right now?” Stephanie asked, leaning back in her chair as she watched Kass look around. “Do you need some more orange juice?”

Kass nodded.

“Alright, here you go,” Steph said, handing her another glass from the nightstand.

Kass looked over to see that there were still two more glasses waiting if she need them. She just hadn’t noticed them at first because they were behind a lamp. “Thanks,” she said, taking another sip.

“You know, you’re lucky to be alive. I almost wasn’t there,” Stephanie said. “And if it had been the other grunt, well, he might have shot you in the head, and that would have been that. Nothing I can do to heal a headshot,” Stephanie said with a shrug.

“Why?” Kass asked, still having trouble with full sentences. It wasn’t that she positively couldn’t say them: It was that everything felt heavy and difficult. The searing pain in her stomach occasionally flared up when she talked, or tried to talk, and acted as a sure deterrent against conversation. What she was hoping to convey was ‘Why were you actually there?’ But it was clear from Stephanie’s answer that she had misunderstood Kass’s single word inquiry to be ‘Why can’t you heal a head shot?’

“Oh, that’s ‘cause I can’t bring a person back to life if they’re already dead. Well, I technically might be able to . . . Maybe . . . I guess? That’s actually a good question. Even though the you in front of me might die, all of your data should still be loaded into the Tiqpa databases. I have a full mapping of your neurological networks, so, theoretically, I might be able create a new you . . .” Stephanie trailed off, “I mean . . .”

She paused again, only having advanced two words, but Kass could practically see the other woman’s synapses flickering back and forth through the look in her eyes. “I mean, if I were to create an organic robot with the exact same memories, or rather the same set of experiences and the same biological make up, would it be you? Could there be two yous? Or do we only consider it you if it occupies the same place in the space-time continuum?” Stephanie grinned. “For that matter, who is to say that I didn’t do that, and the person sitting right in front of me is just a copy of the girl who died in the restaurant?”

Kass’s gut managed to feel worse than it already did as the possibility struck her. “I’m . . . I’m not. Am I?”

Stephanie was already shaking her head before the first word even came out. “Relax. You can rest assured that, even if you don’t trust me to tell you the truth, you can trust logic to tell you that you’re not worth recreating. I’ve got a lot of bigger fish to fry than worrying about whether some fresh-off-the-boat kid dies in a barbecue joint; but, you have to admit, the question is still there. Like, even when you consider the video game world, for most single player games, we do multiple saves, and each save is considered part of the same ‘character,’ right? So if I rebooted you, so to speak, would it be the same as bringing you back from the dead? Would it be like a videogame where I’m simply loading a file where you’re still alive?” Stephanie scratched her head a bit. “Oh well, too much meta. But yeah, no matter what I did, I don’t think I could bring you back to life from a headshot no matter how good I am. Dead is dead.”

“I mean, why were you there?” Kass shook her head, brushing off Stephanie’s strange ramblings so that she could finally get out the question that had been bugging her for some time now. “Why am I lucky?” she asked, doing her best not to sound ungrateful. Being alive was probably better than the alternative, but she didn’t understand what Stephanie was doing hiding there in the first place or why she didn’t jump out earlier to stop her from being shot. Kass wanted to know why she let her get shot. Why does it have to hurt so much? Kass felt herself sniffling before she completely realized that tears were starting to pour out of her eyes and down her cheeks. Why is it lucky that it hurts so much? Why is it lucky that this happened to me? Why lucky? She found herself railing against Stephanie’s word choice, the tears turning into a steady stream as her nose struggled to pull the renegade snot back to its starting line.

Stephanie took Kass’s orange juice and put it aside before giving her a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said, patting Kass’s back as Kass cried onto her shoulder. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it, and it’s okay to cry.” Her voice seemed to carry feathers as it soothingly swirled around and through Kass’s ears. “Just let it out,” she said, continuing to pat Kass’s back as she cried.

It took almost five minutes for Kass to recover. It might have taken less, but each sob pulled on her diaphragm and pushed against her stomach, causing the sharply burning spots to pulse with pain. Finally, realizing she had been tightly holding Stephanie as she cried onto her shoulder, she pushed the other woman away and tried to regain some of her dignity.

“Not to be a broken record, but there, there.” Stephanie patted the top of Kass’s arm. “Really. It’s okay to cry; it’s okay to let it out. Some awful things happened to you that shouldn’t happen to anyone. Coping with it in any way you can is okay. Don’t worry about feeling ashamed, there isn’t any such thing as shame for someone who has been through what you have. In two days, you’ve seen us demons enter the world and gotten yourself shot. You’ve gone through a lot, and you should know that I’m here for you. You just need to rest and get better.”

“Why?” This time, it was Kass who was the broken record. Even if the faucet had turned off, the emotions hadn’t. She was still mired in a crippling state of confusion as she struggled to deal with what was going on around her. Every ‘why’ had a thousand tails, each one seemingly as important as the next in terms of what needed to be answered. She still wanted to know what Stephanie was doing there. She still wanted to know why she had to be shot. Charles’s explanation just didn’t make sense to her. There wasn’t anything to be gained by killing her as she saw it.

“Kass, stop talking. Your body still needs to recover. Here, lean back a bit.” Stephanie pressed a button that caused the top half of her bed to fold upwards like it was straight out of a hospital, and Stephanie pushed Kass back onto it so that Kass was still upright enough to see without an issue, but she wasn’t supporting her own weight anymore. “If you really want to know what happened, I’ll tell you. You were lucky because I was busy watching Darwin, trying to find Eve and monitoring the changes that were going on with Valerie when I got a call from an associate of mine who works at the barbeque joint. He said Charles was ordering for two people, not just one. I called Charles’s driver and convinced him to stall arriving long enough for me to sneak in the back and get behind the counter before Charles entered the restaurant so I could listen to the conversation. I thought he’d be meeting with someone else, like your dad, so color me surprised when it turned out to be you.” Stephanie took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then sighed as she let it out. “It’s partly my fault: I gave him most of the technology he uses today. I gave him the device that forces me to crawl around like a monkey as I try to stay on top of his game.”

“On top of his game?” Kass repeated back to her. You gave him the tech he uses to stop you?

“Yeah. He has been moving pieces to try to outmaneuver me since the day he met Eve and knew what I would offer.” Stephanie leaned further back into her chair, reaching to both of her pockets almost instinctually. “See, not that many people would believe me, but Charles isn’t the type to care about money. I mean, with how much he’s accumulated, it is hard to imagine he didn’t do it on purpose, that I pushed him through every bank account and checking book he had. He doesn’t have a greedy bone in his body . . . Although, I’m not sure he hasn’t grown into his role, titles or positions. He is a nationalist first: a cold, hard, calculating nationalist and humanist,” Stephanie stated with a frown. “He even tricked, lied to and married Eve, a perfectly innocent and naive girl--well, when he married her at least--just so he could study her and her child in hopes of helping ‘humanity’ advance a little more. He forced that poor daughter of his to go through tests every day of her life until Tiqpa. I have no doubt that, even now, he’s still running tests, drawing blood samples and running diagnostics, just to see if it can bring him a little closer to the truth.”

“That’s . . . That’s not possible. How could he . . .” Kass sat wide-eyed and open-mouthed as she stared at Stephanie in disbelief. How can a man be with, marry and raise a child with someone just so they can study them? How does someone spend every waking hour pretending to love someone while at the same time treating them like just another rat in the laboratory? That’s monstrous. Experimenting on his own daughter? That’s insane. The idea alone made Kass feel nauseous.

“Look, you don’t have to believe me. I’m the biased narrator as far as you should be concerned. Maintain your skepticism, but you should at least consider the possibility that, whether you want to be or not, you’re on my side. That’s how he sees it, and, as a result, he wants you dead and thinks you pose a threat,” Stephanie shrugged. “You don’t have to believe me, and you don’t have to even agree with that conclusion, but do consider it. He is that ruthless of a man. He is that dedicated to his beliefs.”

Kass, who hadn’t been trying to call Stephanie a liar, wanted to apologize that Stephanie took it that way, but the whole thing did sound dubious, like something she ought to be skeptical of. What if Stephanie is on Charles’s side, and the reason she was there to save me was less of a coincidence and more of a planned event? What if my believing he wanted me dead is yet another piece in their grand plan to twist the board in their favor? Doubt started to creep into her head as she mulled over what Stephanie had said. “So you were spying on him to stay ahead of his game . . . but, don’t you already know what he’s going to do?”

“That’s exactly it!” Stephanie’s face shifted from morose to happy in half a second as she smiled ear to ear. “That’s exactly what people are supposed to think! The smarter they think you are, the more reckless they play. They start looking over their shoulder thinking that you are always there, that you already know the moves they are going to make!” She looked like she was about to clap she was so excited. “They don’t realize for a moment that you’re not half as smart as they gave you credit for. You’re just sitting there with a dictionary when they ask you what a word means.”

“So . . . you pretend to be smarter than you are?” Kass didn’t comprehend what point Stephanie was trying to make at all.

“Or dumber! Both are useful. If you know a language, pretend that you don’t and let people feel comfortable enough to use it to voice their real opinion of you right in front of your face. If you don’t know a language, pretend that you do, that you know just enough of it to understand a few things, so that people are careful about what they say. It’s all about managing your enemies’ expectations. Never be who they think you’re going to be.” She suddenly started making the smacking, bubble-gum-chewing sound again. “Although, it, like, totes takes a lot of dedication to, like, pretend to be someone else. You have to, like, practice all the time.”

Kass’s jaw dropped for the second time in the conversation. She fakes her accent, her character and everything about herself all the time just so that people won’t know who or what she really is? How paranoid is she?

“Right?” Stephanie’s response assumed incorrectly that Kass was impressed. “It’s such a good trick, but it takes a lot of patience and a lot of hard work. If you know something before people think you should, they’ll treat you differently. They’ll be so careful that they’ll be foolish, shutting perfectly good doors to very viable options just because they think you’re going to have a trap waiting for them. They’ll assume you’re going to be preparing countermeasures for options that you never even considered, and, as a result, they’ll be more easy to manage.”

“So . . . you pretend to be smarter than you are?” Kass repeated her question. She still didn’t follow, but she at least understood the gist of what Stephanie was doing even if she didn’t get the why.

“Yeah, because as long as Charles thinks that I know what I know from simply predicting what he’s going to do, from playing the chess game better than him, he’ll never expect that it’s something far more obvious than what he ever anticipated. I just watch, listen and study. It may be difficult, using just the right pieces at just the right time without ever letting him see the full hand in front of me, but it’s how it has to be. I have to spend minutes, hours, days and weeks researching, studying, working just to keep this front up, but it’s worth it so that I can win the long game.” Stephanie nodded her head over at the series of monitors and the old-fashioned mechanical keyboard she had been clicking away with.

“The long game?” What long game? What is it that you’re doing that Charles, the nationalist and the humanist, would want to stop?

“Come on, Kass. You haven’t figured it out yet? Why do you think Charles wanted you to spy on me by hanging around Darwin?” Stephanie’s tone was condescending as she shook her head. “It’s all about Darwin. It’s all about the species. Charles is using Tiqpa to study Darwin because he thinks that he can find the cure to all of humanity’s problems. Every disease, every aging issue, every medical difficulty a human being can suffer--he thinks the cure can be found by studying Darwin and his own daughter. That’s why he agreed to work with me in the first place. Once he found out what I’m trying to do, however, he panicked. He’s been moving every piece possible to stop me and to keep Darwin contained within Tiqpa at the same time.”

“Wait, what you’re trying to do? Keep Darwin contained?” Kass’s curiosity pushed her pain aside as her need to know drove the questions out faster than a hare running from a wolf.

“Yeah, don’t know how to say this without bothering you, but I’m trying to end humanity--wipe away every trace of it from this earth before the final coming. At first, I was going to do it through violence, but then I realized that there were easier options, more efficient options, that would further my efforts to save my people. The differences between the two races were so small in certain demographics that I could slowly change them before they even realized what was going on. Actually, I initially believed that this would put me in line with Charles, that our goals would line up. You might say it was my greatest miscalculation, and it has cost me and others dearly. I found out very quickly that he wasn’t just about science. He’s about purism within the human species. He thinks that if a person changes into a demon, then they might as well be dead. It’s a thing he can’t tolerate,” Stephanie sighed. “Immortality and the key to all his problems are already within his reach, but he’ll continue to reject them if it means he won’t be human.”

“But . . .” Kass’s mind tried to wrap itself around everything, but it was all too much. She had already fainted once when finding out that Darwin was a demon, and she didn’t want to do it again, but everything from being shot to hearing this story was leaving her head spinning like an old disk drive trying to load every file on a computer at the same time. “What do you mean about trapping Darwin in the game?”

“Kass, haven’t you wondered why Charles really shot you? He wants Darwin to lose control. That has to be it; nothing else makes sense. He wants to leak it to Darwin that you’re dead. He’s counting on the fact that you’re the first real friend Darwin has made in over thirty years of life. He thinks it’ll do two things for him. I’m only taking a stab at figuring this out, but my guess is that he thinks Darwin will go mad with rage, and he’ll transform again. If Darwin isn’t sane, if he permanently loses control, he won’t be able to exit the game. We designed a fail-safe to keep Darwin in Tiqpa if he ever went ballistic. It will keep him in Tiqpa and give Charles even more data to study.” Stephanie’s face slumped as she said it. “I think the reason he shot you right after you met with Darwin today had less to do with you being ‘unreliable,’ as he said, but more to do with what he saw with Valerie. I think he’s finally put together my plan. That’s why he’s rushing his side of things. I don’t know how he plans to break it to Darwin that you’re dead--or if he even plans to keep up friendly appearances anymore--but you can be assured he’ll act soon.”

“Your plan?” Kass didn’t understand. Is there more to it?

“Of course, my plan. It’s already in motion and going smoothly. Charles may have played a role in developing Tiqpa, but I still snuck some things into both the hardware and the software. I still put together conditions he won’t realize until it's too late. The funniest part about it is that Eve even tried to stop me and warn him, yet he thought she was just trying to undermine him again.”

“Why do you hate us so much?” Kass closed her eyes as the question left her lips. The talk was fascinating, and there was so much she wanted to ask about, but she could only put together pieces of it, and, even as she strove to stay engaged in the conversation, she also reasoned that closing her eyes again was fine. She also figured that it was okay to relax more and to rest a little.

“Hopefully, one day, I won’t hate ‘you all.’ We’ll just hate ‘them.’”

Kass could hear her footsteps as Stephanie walked back to the computer. The clicking resumed, and Kass felt herself being pulled once more into the dream world by the heavy hand of the sandman.

Darwin:

Darwin leaned back in his chair as he waited with Kitchens. He had planned to wait just half a mile outside of the main gate, which he knew Alex and Daniel would pass, but several of the new servants and henchmen he had acquired along with the crown had insisted on setting them up with very comfortable rocking chairs, snacks and beverages. The heads of the councilmen he had so expediently killed earlier were impaled on wooden pikes stuck upright into the ground. It wasn’t Darwin’s idea, nor was it Kitchens,’ but a very eager and enthusiastic guard, aptly named Tepes, had personally requested that Darwin let him take care of the project. He had insisted on properly displaying the ‘traitorous scum’ in a place where they would be visible to anyone coming or going through the city. Inevitably, almost everyone would have to pass the grotesque display. He was so zealous in his work that he had even taken the mop and bucket used to clean up the blood-stained palace and dabbed it across the severed necks where the flaming sword hadn’t left enough blood to ensure there would be the ‘proper dramatic effect.’ Tepes, who had eagerly transformed a simple, large, brown bag of morgue leftovers into lawn ornaments out of someone’s worst nightmare, continued to come up with one lurid stroke of decorative genius after another.

“I need more heads,” Tepes muttered to himself as he continued to work on the display set up behind Darwin’s rocker.

“Do we have any more heads?” Kitchens inquired, lazily enjoying the back-and-forth movement of his chair and looking over at Darwin as they heard the rat-man working.

“I mean, I get a feeling we will be acquiring more, but . . .” Darwin trailed off as he turned around to look at Tepes’s work. Every man, woman and child directly related to the Panda King’s old empire sat with their heads on display, the fresh blood Tepes had added still dripping from the necks and open eye sockets onto the earth below. The scene was truly horrific, but Darwin had already grown numb to such sights since coming to Tiqpa. “Do we really need more?” he completed the question.

“I don’t know. We might. We might not . . . but one way or the other, you’re probably right, and we’ll have plenty soon enough.” Kitchens shrugged and then went back to rocking slowly and sipping his drink.

“Don’t the heads of dead players despawn? Wouldn’t it be weird for the NPCs if they saw fifty identical dead bodies?” Darwin laughed. “It would be like a scene out of a clone war or something. If they didn’t already have suspicions that something was wrong from the way players usually behaved without any mind for roleplaying, then they would after seeing the same person dying multiple times and with the bodies to prove it. The undertaker would have to know something was up.”

“Yeah, but with all the dead bodies the players would generate, you’d think he’d keep his mouth shut. I mean, it might not be the noblest profession, but a gravedigger in a video game centered around blood and violence is probably a heck of a lot richer than the standard furniture salesman.”

“I guess the players coming into the town would artificially inflate certain parts of the economy without contributing anything to others. I mean, most players probably only come back to town to logout or restock weapons.” Darwin tried to think about how the players would impact the city's standard economy. “You know, with every mob always carrying some sort of tradable or equipable item, and those guys dying at rates of at least one per player per minute, what do you think that does to inflation? I wonder if that’s why they always make repair and training costs so expensive, to try and curb the influx of resources into the town.” Darwin felt the influence of his pencil pushing days start to surface, his love of numbers bubbling up as he started to put together the pieces of how certain game mechanics had to exist to reduce inflation--game mechanics that weren’t in Tiqpa. Why aren’t they used here? The developers--or, well, Charles--had to have known they would be essential. What am I missing? With countless other online games out there, in-game inflation isn’t something they could possibly not have been aware of in their industry.

“Maybe? But I think you’re going too far off topic. Let’s stick with the main concerns: like how come the Panda King Robin had plenty of milk and cookies, but they claim they don’t have any available when we need them the most? It’s left me a bit disgruntled, I won’t lie.” Kitchens frowned as he looked at the sake in his cup.

“Does anyone actually say the word ‘gruntled’? You hear ‘disgruntled’ all the time, but is ‘gruntled’ even a thing anymore?”

“Maybe? Maybe not. Language changes, and people twist and change words often. Just look at the word ‘nice.’ it came from the word ‘nescius’ which basically means ‘ignorant.’ It used to mean ‘idiot,’ but now it’s supposed to have a real positive denotation,” Kitchens elaborated as he continued to poke his rice cake unhappily.

Darwin paused a moment and thought of all the times someone had used the word ‘nice’ in reference to him. “I think it still means ‘idiot,’” he laughed.

Kitchens joined in his laughter, replying, “Yeah, when you hear someone is a ‘nice’ guy it might as well just mean ‘sucker.’”

They continued to laugh and joke for a while, but as time wore on, so did their patience. When Darwin had finished his third cup of tea, he finally started to voice his frustration. “Do you think they’re going to get here anytime soon? I don’t know how much longer I’m comfortable waiting. I thought we’d be pressed for time, but does it really take that long to pick a team? Alex didn’t make the mistake of asking them to name their teams, did he?”

“If it’s Daniel, he probably did just to stall them. That kid thinks well on his feet.” Kitchens nodded to himself. “I wouldn’t be surprised if, once the groups were formed, he did that just to put the heavy brakes down on them getting here before sunset.”

“Well, here’s the big question: After we finish up here, what do you want to do?” Darwin stood up and stretched his legs. The rocking chair was nice, but after sitting in it for almost an hour, he felt a strong need to move around and get his blood flowing.

“There is the town to the north . . . Jotunnheim? Or something? We already talked about it. Is there really a discussi--” Kitchens was cut off by the appearance of Daniel and Alex walking in front of hundreds of players with what looked like ten yellow snow cones escorting them. “Looks like they finally decided to show up.”

“Yeah, it does at that,” Darwin said, signaling Tepes to stop his work and take away the chairs. “Showtime?”

“I think so. You got a plan for this, right?” Kitchens puffed out his chest and tried to look intimidating, causing Darwin to mirror it to the best of his ability.

Yeah, I do need to look scary, don’t I? “Of course I do, I always have a plan,” Darwin lied. He had been kicking around what he was going to say in his head the entire time they were drinking and eating snacks, but he still wasn’t confident about where he would begin.

For the most part, the soldiers were in a tight formation, one that wouldn’t normally lend well to traveling through a forest, but they had somehow managed to stick together without a problem. As his army marched into sight, Darwin also noticed that everyone was paying unusually close attention to Alex and his sword. That is, of course, until they caught sight of the heads. Their heads swiveled from side to side and their mouths and eyes opened slowly, one after the other, like retail workers on a Black Friday facing down a mob of unruly and impatient shoppers. Darwin couldn’t help but grin as he saw their terrified and awe-inspired stares.

Alex raised his sword, and the entire group came to a stamping halt. “Great Lord Darwin!” Alex exclaimed, bowing his head and lowering his sword. “We apologize for the delay. It took me some time to whip them into shape so that they wouldn’t embarrass the name of the StormGuard Alliance. It’s a good thing we did too. We’ve had to kill almost a hundred foolish soldiers who were on their way to assault Mt. Lawlheima in the most pitiful and disorganized band I’ve ever seen.”

“So that explains the delay: an unsatisfied perfectionist,” Kitchens quietly whispered to Darwin.

Yeah, that will do it. Darwin almost nodded in agreement, but then caught himself. He needed to be scary, and there is little frightening about an agreeable man who goes around politely nodding at people. “And tardiness is any more acceptable?” Darwin glared at his new followers more than Alex. “I grew so bored in your absence that I had to devise ways to entertain myself,” he bellowed and gestured at the heads without ever turning his glare away from the army of players. “And then, when I couldn’t find any more royalty to kill, I had to start killing their families, their servants and their neighbors. Do you see how many people had to die because you made me wait?” Darwin made sure to project his voice as he laid shame upon Alex’s feet. Please don’t take this seriously, Darwin wanted to say. You did great. I just need to be the villain to keep this plan in motion.

“I’m sorry, Great Lord Darwin. I won’t let it happen again.” Alex bowed even deeper. “Please forgive me.”

“I might be able to, but” --Darwin did his best to cast his gaze across every single player-- “I think I need a sacrifice first. I ordered you all here to take a city, but by the time you arrived, I had already done the hard work myself. How are they to prove themselves if there is nothing left to kill?”

“There are still the civilians, Lord Darwin. Perhaps these new recruits might still have a chance to pay for their tardiness and prove themselves?” Kitchens drew his sword. Darwin half-expected him to lick it with the way his voice creeped across his ears.

Note to self: Kitchens could easily be a video game voice actor. Darwin swallowed a laugh before it reached his throat. “Will civilians leave them hardened for combat? Will civilians train them in the ways of war? Do you think this lot could wrestle a city from its possessors with the skills they learn by butchering civilians?” Darwin tried to make each question boom out of his chest with feigned anger as he faced Kitchens.

“No, Great Lord, but they can prove their commitment,” Kitchens bowed.

“Their commitment? Is there still doubt?” Darwin continued the questioning and then turned to the army. “Demons, is there still doubt concerning your commitment to the cause? Is there doubt that you want to lay waste to your foes?” He waited for them to cheer a resounding ‘No!’ before continuing. “Is there any doubt you want to see their blood run in rivers before you?” The cheer came again. “Is there any doubt that you want to listen to the wailing cries of their families before your boot crushes them too?” The ‘No!’ grew even louder. “Then prove it! Burst through those doors and murder every man and woman who does not serve me. Go through every alley and spill blood. I have told those citizens loyal to me that they are to stay inside with doors locked, so, if they are outside, they are traitors, and we know how to handle traitors, don’t we?” They cheered. This is why they signed up. They didn’t join for the robes: They joined for the fun. They joined for the mayhem. Inside that city, there are probably hundreds of enemy players logged on too, wandering through the streets, clueless as to why the merchants have barred the doors and the guards aren’t around. Darwin lifted his flaming zweihander up and slammed it into the ground in front of him. “Preach my word through steel! Convert or kill them all!”

Everyone stared at him for a moment, not moving. “I SAID GO!” he yelled as loud as he could, baring his teeth as he did, and it worked. They all started sprinting through the doors.

“What about the barbeque?” Kitchens looked over at the laid-out meat.

“I . . .” Darwin tried momentarily to think of an excuse and then gave up. “I just forgot.”

“So are we going to let them have all the fun?” Kitchens asked, brandishing his katana and then re-sheathing it in one quick flurry.

“Well, we can join, but I think it’s more important for us to get Alex, Daniel and the others together and either level . . . or maybe just stand around and look like menacingly-evil generals to complete the picture.” Darwin looked over the horde of players storming through the open gates to ‘preach his word through steel.’ We took an entire city and barely had to kill a few dozen NPCs, and then we offered it up for our players to raid without having to worry about anyone but immortal players dying. This act, this is something I can do, but it will only work so long as we can find enough white-knight, up-in-arms-style players to fight against us so that we can feed these guys’ hunger for violence while moving the battlefield away from the NPCs at the same time. But how do I do that at Jotunnheim in the same clean way I did it here? Darwin bounced his concerns back and forth through his head without ever actually answering Kitchens.

“What about our levels?” Kitchens asked. “We’ve been sitting here for what feels like half a day. We need to always be ahead of the players in levels and gear, or we won’t be able to maintain authority. How about we let Alex wrap things up here, and you and I go tackle another dungeon? Or do the snow cone dungeon again? That one seemed easy enough.”

“That’s . . . not a bad idea.” Darwin looked towards the gate Alex had barreled through with a hundred players behind him. “But how would we let Alex know that we won’t be coming back until it’s time to sack the next town?” And we still haven’t touched the NPC problem. Killing a few corrupt officials is one thing, and taking out the heirs-apparent is necessary, but how do we stop the next sacking from creating needless victims if we don’t already own the town when it gets sacked?

“Well, one of us could stay behind and let him know.” Kitchens looked around. “I think Mclean and Minx were supposed to be somewhere in the group of players that went into the city with Daniel. I could go find Minx really quick if you don’t mind waiting. Ever since she started using Fuzzy Wuzzy as a mount, she’s been pretty easy to spot in a group.”

Darwin continued to stare at the gate. His mind was in an entirely different place. “Yeah, sure, that sounds fine.” Darwin was still in a daze as Kitchens darted off to find Minx, half-drunk on victory and half-sober with contemplation as he faced the looming dread that this might be the only smooth victory. With the average rate of gameplay, he would have to sack one to two cities a day to keep up the momentum. An opposing faction . . . if we make ourselves evil enough to players, or we find a way to get Eve to rally enough players to attack us in the open fields every day, then we could have all of the bloodshed needed to pay our army of players and still maintain zero NPC casualties, Darwin thought hopefully. Well, unless-- His stream of consciousness was suddenly diverted by the familiar ding of a Tiqpa notification message.

A party member has been killed.

What the . . . Kitchens died? Was I in a group with anyone besides Kitchens? Is Daniel in my group? Darwin frantically looked for the status menus he had grown accustomed to when playing MMOs on a computer, the ones that had his party members and their health conveniently listed, but was even more confused by the next notification.

It was Kass.

Kass died? But she’s not even in the game right now. How could she die? Darwin couldn't make any sense of what was going on. He was bewildered by the Tiqpa system informing him of a party member’s death, let alone answering his thoughts and questions. His mind raced as he tried to make heads or tails of how Kass could die when she wasn’t even supposed to be logged in. She was supposed to be . . .

Yes, that’s right. She was supposed to be seeing me. She was shot for her betrayal.

The gentle thumping of his heart grew faster and louder. It went from a simple, steady thud to a rapid succession of beats that would leave a skilled snare drummer impressed. Before the text box even faded, Darwin turned and started sprinting towards the portal. With each step that drew him closer to the portal, he grew more and more anxious about the situation, desperate to get to the real world and find Kass.

Why are you running so fast? It’s not like you’ll miss the funeral . . . Or are you coming to kill me?

I’m going to do more than kill you if you’ve hurt Kass! Darwin yelled inside his own head. I’m going to rip you apart! He felt the violent pounding of his heart. He felt his blood and anger grow with each thundering beat and pulse into his head as his vision slowly turned redder in time with the war drum in his chest. Each passing second caused the crimson tint to darken just a little bit more.

That’s it, isn’t it? You’re coming to kill me, aren’t you? How noble. Darwin the Butcher, eagerly jumping at the first opportunity to murder someone with a clean conscience. What a senseless beast you are, always looking for an excuse to murder someone--maybe it is best Kass will never have to see this side of you.

The words on the pop-ups slowly needled their way into Darwin’s psyche, the taunts causing his face to almost bust a blood vessel as he grew ever closer to the obsidian gateway.

You’re like a child throwing temper tantrums left and right because something didn’t go your way. You’re pathetic. You think that you can save people, that you can lead them to victory, but all you’re capable of is leading them to their death.

If you’re just trying to make me angry, it’s working, Darwin grumbled with great vexation. He wanted to murder Charles, to rip his throat out and beat the man to death with his own vocal chords, but he didn’t know what to do past that. While the thought kept crossing his mind, lapping his madness like a hare circling a race track, he couldn’t see past the red, the bloody pall of fury that was creeping across his world.

Would it help you to know we didn’t give her the quick death? My bodyguard always said, “A well-kept corpse is more important than a quick finish,” so he left her to bleed out on a cold floor. He left her to die alone, suffering and crying like a sniveling brat as she begged for help. If it makes you feel better, your name was the last one she called out before she died. She actually thought, even in her darkest hour, that you would help her. I wonder how painful it was to die like that. I hear it’s agonizing.

And that was it. The baiting taunts had won, and the slowly ebbing ire turned into a wave that washed across Darwin’s consciousness, purging him of sanity and control. He didn’t know how much time passed until he regained it, but he did know that, when he finally came to, he was in Mt. Lawlheima, fighting Alex, Kitchens and Daniel as they did their best to restrain him without hurting him as he flailed about on the ground.

As his eyes narrowed in on the ground before him, regaining their focus, he saw that he was on his belly again, his burning blade over ten feet in front of him, with Kitchens and Daniel holding his arms as he struggled to throw them off.

“This was a lot more difficult than last time,” Kitchens noted as he did his best to hold Darwin’s left arm twisted behind his back.

“Well, you’re the one who told Fuzzy Wuzzy not to sit on him again,” Daniel complained as he struggled with Darwin’s right arm. “How long do you think we have to hold him for anyway? Do you think he’ll get ahold of himself again anytime soon?”

Oh, look, you’re awake. You’re wondering how you got where you are? Did they come save you, or did they only get to you after you killed a few bystanders? Go on, check your hands. Are they red with blood?

Darwin quickly looked up at his hand, the one on his right arm that Daniel was holding in front of him since the one Kitchens was wrangling behind his back was impossible to see. Clean. No blood. Darwin sighed in relief.

Come on, Darwin. That’s just one hand. What about the other? What if I were to describe how you held that poor girl’s neck in that hand before you squeezed? Should I go into detail about how her eyes bulged out, and she gasped for air before her tiny little frame stopped moving?

Darwin gulped. I . . . I didn’t do that. No. He’s lying . . . That couldn’t be me. I wouldn’t do that even if I was in a rage. He tried to calm himself down as he looked around, trying to find any signs of having fought anything to the death. That’s right. This place is filled with people who could fight back. They wouldn’t just let me do that.

Okay, don’t worry. You didn’t. I’d like to say you did, but where would the trust be if I lied to you? No, you didn’t kill anyone. But I have. But I will. I’ll kill them all. In fact, maybe I should stop sending you these messages and come do it right now?

No, you can’t! Darwin managed to momentarily rip his arm free from Daniel’s grasp as his frustration boiled over, but then Kitchens and Daniel both managed to get ahold of it again.

Can’t what? Kill a few NPCs? Because doing that is your job? Or are you going to pretend like you don’t enjoy massacring the poor, little things? I still have the footage from your little war against the Panda King. I made sure to record it, after all.

I had to kill them, they were going to—

I know that face, Darwin. I know that face all too well. Right now, you’re thinking, ‘I had to kill them to protect Alex and the people from Valcrest!’ But is that really the logic of a hero? You had to butcher thousands of people so that a few hundred could survive the night? If it were fifty thousand, would you still have done it? Would you have killed a hundred thousand? A million? Where do you draw the line in your inhuman rampages?

“Let me go!” Darwin yelled aloud as he pulled against his restraints. Kitchens and Daniel complied after a few seconds and Darwin was able to climb back up and onto to his feet.

“You feeling better now?” Kitchens asked as he patted the dirt off Darwin’s back.

Careful, Darwin. I know where they live. The only reason I haven’t killed them yet is that they don’t know that I killed her. They have no information Stephanie could use in linking me to this crime. Don’t make me kill them too just because you need to slake your barbaric thirst for blood. Remember, I’m just like you: I will kill scores to protect the race I deem worthy.

“I’m not barbaric!” Darwin protested at Charles, leaving Kitchens and Daniels to look at him strangely.

“No-one said you were. This happens. It’s a plagued skill; it’s not you.” Daniels tried to comfort his friend, putting a hand on Darwin’s shoulder.

A disease? Is that what they call it? That’s because they don’t know you like I do. They don’t know that your rage, your hunger, isn’t just some passive ability, but your very being. It’s an integral part of your nature that you sated with games until the first opportunity presented itself, and then you just couldn’t help but feed the addiction and take a real man’s life.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Darwin shouted, continuing to repudiate Charles’s stinging accusations.

“Huh?” Daniels asked.

Minx looked over at Fuzzy Wuzzy, who met her glance and gave a roar before the two turned back to face Darwin. “Fuzzy Wuzzy and I both agree. He’s not talking to you. He’s lost it. He’s talking to someone we can’t see.” Minx raised a finger up to her ear and did the crazy motion before looking back at Fuzzy Wuzzy. “No, Fuzzy, what he’s lost can’t be found.”

I don’t know what I’m talking about? Tell me, why didn’t you just hide? Why did you rush to meet the intruder with the first weapon you could find? How about when you came to Tiqpa? Did you try to reason with your first assailant? Or did you consider letting the Minotaurs kill the girl? After all, three permanent deaths to save a girl from one temporary one . . . Does that feel like a fair trade? Did it ever cross your mind that the legion you butchered was real? You accepted that it was a game so quickly you never considered another possibility. You never thought to question the nature and existence of Tiqpa before slaughtering thousands of people. Or are you going to tell me that, in each of those situations, you ‘had’ to kill, that there was ‘no other way’?

Darwin struggled against the facts, but could offer no defense. Ironically, there was no position open for him to play the devil’s advocate. The issue was cut and dry as far as Darwin could see. He was the foul beast, the philistine who mucked about in murder even when lives weren’t on the line. From the day he was born, he had been killing NPCs in one game or another. He killed creations every day that constantly came closer and closer to mirroring his own level of sentience and right to exist.

“You think it’s a new symptom?” Mclean said as she appeared on Darwin’s left, almost stepping out of the shadows as she fiddled around with one of her knives. “Do you think it’s linked to Hunger, or is it connected to a new skill altogether?”

Should I take it from your final silence, your defeated pose and those slumped shoulders that you have come to terms with your nature? Go ahead, Darwin. Admit what you are. Admit you’re the monster that mothers warn their kids about . . . Except you don’t hide under the bed. You raze the whole town. You leave every living thing left in the streets to be massacred just so you don’t have to put in the effort of raising zombie defenders for your people. After all, that would be too much work, wouldn’t it? Look, your sword is in front of you. Just grab it. If you kill yourself, you’ll be trapped by Tiqpa forever, unable to hurt another soul. Why don’t you prove you have a conscience once and for all and save a multitude with one simple blow?

Darwin took a few steps forward and bent down to pick up his burning zweihander.

“Should we just let him hold a sword given, you know, his current mercury-polished-hat personality?” Mclean asked as she juggled her blades back and forth between her hands.

He’s not wrong. This is all I do. This is all I’ve ever done. Murder things. Sure, it’s a game, but are they any less real than I am at this point? Darwin’s blood raced, and his throat seemed to stop pulling in air as a gulp caught halfway down. Charles was right. There was sense in his words--no matter how badly Darwin didn’t want that to be the case.

“Darwin, can you hear us?” Kitchens asked. “Where is Kass when you need her? She’s known him the longest. She might know if this has happened before.”

That’s right. Kass. Even if I do have to take myself out of the equation, I can do it after Charles is dead. I still have to exact vengeance for what he did to her. I'm not the only monster that needs killing.

Did you know one of those first three Minotaurs you killed had a wife, a daughter, two sons and a dog? Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a ‘dog,’ but it was a loyal pet that was sure to die in a dozen years, so it’s the same difference, right? You should have seen how happy he was with her. How happy they were with him. But your friend, Kass, she tried to end that and take his life for a little bit of EXP. And what did you do? You helped her finish the job. Was it because she was pretty? Were you hoping she’d flip that skirt up for you if you saved her enough times? Or was it because she was human like you . . . like you thought you were.

Darwin marched towards the portal with his sword in hand. He knew what he had to do, and he knew that, even if Charles proved him to be the worse devil, he still needed to kill the man.

It was the human part, wasn’t it? After all, you’re not some creep who thinks that saving a girl’s life entitles you to a round under the covers. No, you saved her because, in the grand scheme of things, it’s always us versus them. It’s always red team versus blue team, black versus white, and you couldn’t let them win.

As angry as Darwin was, the logic Charles pressed on him was sound. He could almost picture the Minotaur with a little daughter riding around on his horns while his two boys played at being warriors with wooden swords. Even as he began his journey deeper into Mt. Lawlheima towards the portal, towards his vengeance, he could still feel the weight of his conscience pressing against him, punishing him for perceived and known sins. Charles was right. He really was a beast hell-bent on nothing but base revenge.

It’s actually a shame I have to trap you, to imprison you in this world. If it weren’t for Stephanie’s grand plan to eliminate humanity, you could have gone about your days leveling in Tiqpa and played the part of my little, perfect guinea pig for decades. But no, you just couldn’t enjoy the game as it was meant to be played. You had to play by her rules. You had to build a guild. You had to found a nation. You had to follow her despicable vision and turn good, honest, hard-working people into loathsome Demons.

People into demons? Is he talking about NPCs or actual people like Valerie? How is it even possible to turn someone into a demon just by having them play a game? Darwin’s doubt as to whether or not that was even possible gave him a momentary reprieve from the self-hatred that Charles was injecting into him with every word. No, it doesn’t matter why. “No matter what the reason, he has to die.” His thoughts switched from an inner monologue to an open declaration as his face continued to redden. “He has to die.” Darwin reassured himself one last time as Mclean, Daniel, Kitchens and the others walked behind him in his march towards the portal.

“Do you think he even knows we’re here?” Mclean asked Daniel, not even bothering to talk about Darwin in hushed tones. “I mean, if I were to pants him, would he even react?”

“Can you actually pants something with a bathrobe?” Minx tilted her head and looked as if she were trying to find the boxers.

“No, I mean his boxers underneath the bathrobe,” Mclean specified.

You have to kill me no matter what? So harsh. So violent. Even if you agree with me, you can’t alter the action you must take? I’d try to argue with that thinking, but, by your own mouth, you’ve admitted that logic is pointless. I expected as much. I already knew you were nothing more than a mindless beast. I already understood that your kind can’t change. They’re all built from the same program. Immortal, yes, but flawed and capable of terrible variance. It’s an insult that you and Stephanie would ever want to press that immovable script onto a superior race. You should have just stuck to doing what you were so good at: protecting humans from monsters.

Kitchens scowled at Darwin then glanced back at Mclean. “There will be no taking off of his boxers with my daughter around!”

“Relax, Pops,” Minx assured him. “I already checked, and he’s not wearing any boxers for her to pull down.” From the grin on her face, it was hard to tell if she didn’t know how upset that would make Kitchens.

“Wait, where is he heading? That boss was already cleared,” Daniels asked as Darwin trudged determinately towards the room that once housed the great dragon of Mt. Lawlheima.

I guess I really am an unchanging beast bred with one purpose. Darwin continued his march towards his goal when he caught sight of an apparition. It was the king, the one who had first welcomed him to Tiqpa, standing in front of him and fidgeting with his crown.

“The problem is gone now, isn’t it? My champion killed them, and the problem is gone. He just killed them all, and it just went away . . . All you have to do is kill . . .” the odd shade of the king said as Darwin passed him.

“How would you know? Did he show you!” Kitchens fumed louder than an opera singer at the climax of a performance. “Did that pervert take off his robe in front of you?”

“Not yet, Dad, but here’s hoping,” Minx said, continuing to laugh to herself from atop Fuzzy Wuzzy.

Those glazed eyes. I know that look from Eve. What did you see, Darwin? What appeared?

Before Darwin could even guess what he had seen, the image he had passed was once more in front of him, still playing with his crown.

The apparition spoke again: “Am I really a monster? Does doing what is necessary count as an atrocity? Or is it the fact that I took pleasure in doing it that makes me a monster?”. Darwin’s head followed the image as his feet slowed and he listened to what it said. Darwin’s companions were behind him, those who had been with him almost every step of the way, but this man in front of him felt more like kin than any of them--and the king’s questions felt like they were coming from Darwin himself than the man in front of him.

“Qasin . . .” Darwin mouthed as the apparition vanished as quickly as it had appeared, never second-guessing how he knew the name.

Are you having a vision? I thought those were impossible for males. I thought only females had them and only when they came of age and manifested their demonic callousness.

No sooner had Charles asked than Qasin once more appeared in his ghostly form. His hand was no longer adjusting his crown but grasping his sword. Darwin perplexedly stared at the king.

“I will kill them and spare my people,” Qasin said. “I will murder them so that my men will never have to die for petty politics again. If I kill enough of them, my kingdom will never see its armies march to their deaths again.” The king sounded more sure of himself this time, his voice now steady like steel drawn before a fight.

“What’s he looking at now?” Daniel asked in a tone that made one think this was a spectator event, and he didn’t actually expect an answer.

“It feels good to kill,” the ghost-like apparition said, his voice wavering again as he stared at his sword hilt. “It feels so good.”

Darwin found himself mouthing the second line out loud as Qasin said it before the ghost vanished again.

You know, those visions opened my eyes too. They showed me what kind of monsters you are, what kind of evil lurks inside your blood. They showed me why I can never let Stephanie win, why I can never let humanity turn into your kind.

Qasin appeared again, this time his knuckles noticeably whiter from gripping his sword too tightly. “This is why killing has always been the answer. The blade doesn’t lie; it tells only one truth.”

The rushed words didn’t make sense. The context was lost on Darwin, but the truth seemed to resonate within his heart as he listened to Qasin. The king’s grip on his sword loosened, and he stared right through Darwin. “Let him think he is right. Our champion will destroy him,” he said before vanishing again.

I was his champion, and it may have just been proclaimed by him without my consent, but I never denied the title either as he threw me to the battlefield. And I did do it . . . through violence. I saved the Humans of that land from the White-Wings, from certain destruction. It may have only been picking the winner and loser, but it was still a choice, an action that saved them. Darwin started to feel more confident in himself as he felt the king’s words echoing through him.

After all, it was those visions that broke my sweet Lilith. Those visions that tricked her into killing her best friend, twisting her into depression. It was those visions that made her into what she is today, and you want to take part in pushing that fate upon all mankind?

As Darwin nearly finished his march, he came across another vision of Qasin, this time standing right at the entrance to the stairway, blocking his path. “When a problem rears its head, Darwin will slay it. That’s how great men solve their problems. They eradicate them.” Qasin unsheathed his sword and took off his crown.

As Darwin stood in front of the man, not able to move around him, the king extended his blade and crown until Darwin grabbed them. As Darwin instinctively put the crown on his head, his eyes met the king’s again, and he found himself speaking in sync with Qasin as he said one more line before vanishing: “The blade doesn’t lie; it tells only one truth.”

“Uhh . . . Did you guys just see him randomly get a crown and a sword?” Daniel asked.

“Yeah, they just kind of appeared out of nowhere. Is that even possible? Did he have them in his inventory this whole time?” Kitchens said with a shrug.

It seems it was more than just a vision that has occupied your attention and distracted you from your supposed goal of killing me. Let’s hope that, now that you have your pretty trinkets, you will finally do what you always do: try to kill someone. I don’t think we need to establish again that that’s all you abominations are good for. Come on now. I’m waiting for you.

Darwin needed no more encouragement as he sprinted down the stairs that lead to the portal room.

That’s a good boy, Darwin, but we can’t have uninvited guests, now can we? After all, I’m still trying to keep my identity a secret.

Darwin barely heard the shocked voices behind him. He could make out Daniel’s muffled complaints as he likely yelled, “What the heck? Where did this wall come from?”

So he’s going to make it a one-on-one? Figures. They always make you build up a great team, get comfortable with a combination, and then separate you from them just before a boss fight, Darwin laughed to himself. His earlier self-doubt had melted away almost instantly when the crown touched his head, and Qasin’s sword entered his hands. He gripped the blade tighter, almost chuckling at the name: Steel Clemency. Is it implying that I’m forgiving the people I kill, or forgiving myself for killing them? It doesn’t matter though. “Come, my steel brother. It seems our journey has yet to end.” He smiled as he spoke lovingly to his new sword.

“It’s about time you made it here.” Charles was away on a laptop at a desk that was conveniently placed to the side of the portal. “I was beginning to think you’d stood me up on our first big date alone,” he laughed.

“You didn’t have to kill Kass, you know.” Darwin held out his blade, readying it as he faced off against Charles. He cautiously approached the other man, edging closer, inch-by-inch. He wanted to charge in and slash Charles, but something about the whole situation felt off. He wanted me here. He wanted me alone, and I came. I need to kill him, but what does he have planned? Darwin’s eyes darted left and right as he tried to find a clue as to what trap Charles had laid. He didn’t come here unprepared, did he?

“To be fair, Darwin, I didn’t kill her--one of my bodyguards did. The only reason I’m here to wrap up this loose end in person is because your spineless, worthless friends couldn’t do it for me, and I can’t risk someone else doing it and running their mouth where Stephanie can hear.” Charles stood up from his leather swivel chair and extended his hand. As soon as he did, a meter-long, simple wooden stick appeared in it. “Though, honestly, I did enjoy knowing she died. It brought me a little pleasure to think that the traitorous wench bit the bullet.”

“She wasn’t a traitor. She just made a few mistakes,” Darwin replied, trying to defend Kass as he circled to Charles’s left, still approaching only by inches at a time in his slow creep closer. What is he planning? Why am I here, and how does he plan to defeat me with a stick?

“She made a mistake? No, her father made a mistake by allowing such naivety to exist in a girl over the age of ten. She was incapable of thinking any action through more than one step ahead.” Charles seemed amused by the stick as he twirled it twice, not even bothering to face Darwin as he kept slowly circling to his left. “She might as well have been taught the rules for checkers while everyone else grew up with chess. That is why it’s fitting that, given it was his mistake and not hers, he’ll be the one left alive to suffer her death and mourn the loss of a second woman he loved.”

“Is that how little you think of the people around you?” Darwin continued to edge closer, growing even more unsettled by the complete disregard with which Charles treated his presence.

“Ah, that’s right. You, like most people, use conversational proximity as a primary factor in calculating a person’s worth. If they have enough conversations close enough for you to hear, they are suddenly more important than if you never hear a word out of their mouth.” Charles laughed at Darwin. “Darwin, why don’t you just admit it: You love to kill, and the only reason you don’t butcher those two people playing bestial half-breeds upstairs is because you got to know them, and you don’t like the negative emotions that come with killing someone you know.”

Darwin looked at his blade, Steel Clemency, and then joined in Charles’s laugh. “You’re right, Charles, I do. I don’t just love it: I need it. It’s more than hunger. It’s more than a skill penalty, a festering urge pressing me to act. No, it’s a calling. It’s my purpose, and without purpose, what are we but lost lambs waiting for the day we are slaughtered?”

As Darwin’s voice grew firmer and his laughter rose, Charles’s own jolly chuckling ceased. His expression stiffened like rapidly-freezing ice as he looked at Darwin. “So, that little game won’t work anymore on you. A shame. I was hoping it would progress further, but it seems that she has blessed you with clarity in your madness.”

“‘She’?” Darwin looked at the sword. It was given by a man, right? he asked himself as he lunged across the room and struck at Charles. The blow failed, quickly parried with a simple flick of Charles’s stick.

“Yes, ‘she.’ Did you never wonder about the nature of the beast you lived in? Did you think that we could create an artificial intelligence capable of running a million times more functions, thoughts and processes than any human being alive without it ever growing sentient?” Charles had the upper hand. The blow he had used to knock Darwin’s blade aside had left Darwin wide open, but Charles just sat there, continuing his dialogue as if Darwin were nothing more than a gnat he couldn’t be bothered with slapping on a hot day. “Naivety. Just like Kass. Hers through nurture, but yours through nature. All you’re good for is swinging a sword.” Charles blocked another thrust Darwin had aimed at Charles’s exposed left side. He diverted the attack with such indifference that a spectator might have viewed it like watching a grown man parrying the slow, weak attempts of a child at playing knight. Charles’s skill made his statement about Darwin only being good at sword-wielding seem more like mockery than truth.

Darwin did his best to focus on the fight and not let the conversation distract him as he tried a third thrust with his new sword, but that too was easily parried. Charles didn’t even appear to be trying, but as he blocked this third blow, throwing Darwin and his sword to the left, he took his wooden stick and struck the right side of Darwin’s arm lightly. The pain that shot through the point of impact pushed tears out of Darwin’s eyes as he struggled to stop himself from blacking out. “What the--”

“See? You don’t think at all. You just wave that sword around.” Charles’s face sagged into a frown as he struck Darwin’s right arm again, the pain throwing Darwin to the floor. “I suppose it’s a good thing you’re immortal in here. Someone as simple as you will take more than an eternity to grow out of that childish mindset.”

Darwin almost wailed from the agony, but the shock of it had left him mute, scrambling in his mind to try and fight off the excruciating sensation, to win even the slightest reprieve for a moment from the pain. He was about to give up, to just leave his eyes closed as he balled up on the ground, when his respite came.

This isn’t your world, Champion, said a voice trickling through his ear amidst the screaming in his head.

That’s right. This is his world, he agreed with the voice as the pain stopped momentarily. It wasn’t gone for good though. As soon as he realized why Charles was winning so handily, the wracking agony returned and crippled him mentally again.

“You know, you wouldn’t think anyone could come to like carrying out torture--it’s such a sloppy thing after all--but it does grow on you.” Charles struck Darwin two more times, the effect being even worse than the first two taps as Darwin tried to grapple with his twitching body for control. “Even the chatting. I always told myself when I was a kid watching spy thrillers that I’d never be the villain who chats away with his captive. I always said that I’d just kill them, but then I grew older and had enemies to actually kill. It’s important to break a person’s spirit sometimes, to let them know exactly how far they’ve fallen, as you slowly beat them to death.” Charles’s stick hit Darwin right across the chest this time.

Come on, Darwin. Don’t lose yourself here, he told himself as he fought his mind’s desire to turn off, to shut down and go home for the day. Every part of him wanted to just let go, but he knew he couldn’t lose, that he only needed control for one minute to win.

“Right now, for instance, I need you to go insane from the pain. I need you to lose control just once and die without clarity. The fail safes in the programming will activate, and you’ll be trapped forever, unreachable by anyone until I need to take you down from the shelf and dust you off for more samples.” Charles stabbed his stick into Darwin’s back as he lay on the ground.

Just a moment more. Focus. This is for Kass. Darwin managed to stay on the ground, like a dog looking beaten, as he readied his toes in the dirt. He was waiting for his moment. Charles continued to circle him and strike him once or twice more. Every ounce of him wanted to flee sanity, to go to a happy place and let his body ignore the pain, but he held it all like a weapon. He pressed it into his core and used it as fuel for his concentration as Charles slowly and arrogantly walked into position. Then he leapt straight at his foe. It was a gambit, one he was staking his existence on, but he had faith. His awkward tackle would have left any martial artist complaining about form and neck injuries, and it didn’t really hurt Charles--that much was evident--but it did accomplish its goal: It pushed both men through the obsidian portal and into the real world.

“No . . .” Charles panicked as he used both of his arms to try and push himself away from Darwin who was now on top of him. “No! No, this can’t be. This can’t happen. This shouldn’t be possible,” Charles cried out as he continued to flail on the ground under Darwin.

Darwin, who was still recovering from the pain he had experienced in the game, took a moment to realize his success. I did it! He sighed with relief. The end of agony and the triumph over his enemy felt like ecstasy for him. I did it! he cheered to himself again as he watched Charles squirm. “Let me share with you the one truth of this world,” Darwin said to Charles, grinning as he pulled his sword up and shoved down it into Charles’s heart.

As he rolled off the dead, old man and onto his back, leaving his blade still planted in Charles’s heart, Darwin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I don’t ever want to have to play that board again.

Chapter 10 – Save and Continue

Kass:

As Kass lay in bed, still recovering from her injury and being extra careful not to move her body, which continued to punish her for taking anything more than shallow breaths, she tried to distract herself from the boredom by watching television on one of the screens Stephanie had lent her. Announcements of expansions for some of the older MMOs that were still leeching money from hardcore devotees made up a good portion of the gaming news that day. People had blown so much time and cash on those games that they would probably never switch to the bigger, better and newer ones out there. Sunk costs, right? Kass knew the feeling. It had taken a lot to get her to move to Tiqpa; and, given the ache in her stomach, she half-wished she never had. Finally, in the middle of the mundane updates and announcements, the screen flashed with an awkward 1990s-style flash-animated text informing her that a ‘breaking update’ was going to interrupt their normal broadcast.

Ryan, one of the lead G.O.R.N. news anchors, addressed the screen, “This just in, Daria: As we speak, there is an invasion going on in the world of Tiqpa right now. Bollert, can you take us to the live gameplay footage we have on the scene?” The screen cut away to show a location that Kass knew quite well: the area outside the walls of Peh-Ting Zhou. When she had first seen the city, she had marveled at how proud and majestic those walls had seemed with their oriental dignity. Now, however, that beautiful architecture was hidden behind another wall--a wall of heads impaled on stakes set out in all directions and laid out like gravestones in a cemetery. The mangled faces seemed to follow the camera with their hollow stares as they rested upon the pikes. Someone had also constructed hellish barbeque pits interspersed throughout the field of heads where dismembered body parts roasted over hot coals on spits.

“Oh, my-- Somebody take that down!” Daria gasped. The shots of the carnage outside of Peh-Ting Zhou were taken down almost as quickly as they had been put up, and the camera switched back to Daria in time to catch her holding up her note cards to shield her eyes from the mutilation that was still playing uncensored on the studio monitors. “Wow, Bollert, I think you should have warned us on that one. This is clearly not for children or young audiences. Goodness’ sake,” she groaned, peeping over her notes briefly. “For those just tuning in, please be advised: This content is for mature audiences only. I stress: mature audiences only.” A small, almost-hiccup of a cough found its way out of her mouth at the end of her warning.

“Are you okay, Daria?” The screen cut back to Ryan, who had put a hand on Daria’s shoulder and was comforting his co-host. The short girl had turned a shade of green that almost matched her dress.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Daria nevertheless covered her mouth as soon as she finished speaking.

“Can we get her some water? Thanks, let’s get her some water,” Ryan called to some anonymous staffer. “Sorry, folks. We’re going to cut back to the live Tiqpa feed for a moment while Daria gets some water. The censors should be up now, right? Yes? Okay, they’re up, folks. Nevertheless, we still caution parents and viewers that this is mature content and not meant for younger audiences.”

“Holy crap! Is she going to vomit? I so hope she does! PUKE! PUKE!” Kass heard Stephanie yell from her computer.

“You’re watching it too?” Kass asked, not taking her eyes off the show for a moment as the screen cut back to Tiqpa.

“Of course I’m watching it. It’s Darwin’s big debut, after all. I can’t wait to see him sitting there, all majestic and handsome in his bathrobe!” Stephanie looked like she was about to fall out of her chair as she swooned into the arms of an imaginary Darwin. “It’s not every day your boyfriend gets to be on TV.”

Boyfriend. Hearing the word come from Stephanie made Kass feel just like Daria: like she wanted to throw up. The nastiness on the TV, however, didn’t bother her. She had played enough Tiqpa to handle the barrage of now-pixelated gore that crawled across her screen as whoever was filming the event panned left and right.

“Daria, you feeling better now?” Ryan asked his co-host, who could be heard sighing feebly after drinking some water.

“Yeah, I’m better. Thanks for that, Ryan.”

“Good, now tell us a bit about what we’re seeing here.”

“Well, Ryan, if you and our viewers are thinking that this is a scene out of a horror film, an atrocity committed by evil incarnate, you might not be too far from the mark. Players from all over the were-world islands and other starting zones of Tiqpa who chose Peh-Ting Zhou as their residence are logging into a virtual massacre, one we’ll show you shortly, and are being butchered by the Demons of the StormGuard Alliance. Our investigative reporters have actually been following this faction for a while. It is led by the bathrobe-wearing, horned Demon King who goes by the title ‘The Great Lord Darwin.’ While a lot of people believe that this attack is random, sparked merely by this Demon King’s bloodlust, we’ve uncovered that it is in direct response to an in-game quest to invade the home of the Demons’ portal, Mt. Lawlheima.”

“That’s . . . um . . .” Ryan sputtered out. He appeared to be caught off guard at first by the bizarre development but then managed to organize his thoughts enough to respond, “Now, tell me about that for a moment . . . because I believe the other day we actually had some amazing screenshots of non-player armies rallying in the city. Is there strong enough evidence to show that these events are connected?”

“Absolutely, Ryan. Without a doubt, these events are related. We haven’t been able to get all the details together yet, as no players recorded this event, and it mostly happened between NPCs, but we do know that an army several thousand strong left Peh-Ting Zhou as it marched towards Mt. Lawlheima, which appears to be the base of operations for the Demon King. Apparently, that army was never seen again. A few hours later, a quest popped up for guilds in the area to assault the portal of Lawlheima, and then, less than a day later, a quest to join the Demon King’s legion also popped up.”

“Fascinating. Now, the quest to assault the portal seemed pretty cut and dry: Rush in, kill the Demon King, and break the portal. However, if my memory serves me correctly, the Demon King’s legion quest wasn't. Can you tell me more about that and why it is a one of a kind event in the world of Tiqpa?”

“Well, I'm glad you brought that back up, Ryan, because it really is an unprecedented quest. Bollert, can you cut to the in-city footage? Great. As you can see, this murder and mayhem isn't being done by a random army of Demons, but actually by players who have chosen other races. This would be a nightmare relived for any former residents of Valcrest. Players are assaulting the city and specifically looking for other players, not NPCs, to kill. Apparently, this player-on-player violence is because the legion’s members aren't actually a part of the faction yet. Instead, they are initiates still trying to meet their player-versus-player kill quotas required to join. Until they bring the king enough heads, they aren't permitted to continue his eccentric quest line or join the StormGuard Alliance.” The images showed bathrobe-wearing players of all races hunting down and butchering every player that logged in. One after the other, individuals were swarmed and trampled over by dozens of bloodthirsty Demon-wannabes sporting bathrobes.

So this is your solution to Darwin’s madness. Kass sighed, her belly still stinging as a tender reminder of why senseless violence wasn't something she would be able to take lightly for a while.

“They keep talking about him, but where is he? This is supposed to be his opening night act, and they haven't even put him on stage!” Stephanie grumbled loudly as the clips showed more and more murderers that weren't Darwin.

“Now, Daria, this can't be good news for the casual players who are just getting off work, logging in and finding themselves getting killed right at the login and their game almost unplayable. For the amount of money a monthly subscription for this game costs, there should be some swift response by the game’s team. Does Tiqpa have any comment about how they are going to address this issue? Or are they planning to ignore it for the time being and maintain their current hands-off approach?”

“Well, Ryan, that’s a tricky question to answer. Tiqpa representatives have been on the line with us, but they’re dodging the questions and pretending like nothing out of the ordinary is going on. We were able to get a response from one source, who wishes to remain anonymous so his position at the company won’t be jeopardized, and he has told us that the higher ups are scrambling because, when it comes to matters like this, they need Charles’s approval, and he’s nowhere to be found.”

“Charles isn’t anywhere to be found?” Stephanie pushed aside the monitor showing the feed and quickly began banging away at her keyboard. “Charles always has a comment, even if it’s just to do nothing. Where is he? He cares too much about his business not to respond to it.”

“He might be playing the game himself for once.” Kass suggested.

“Playing the game himself? He would never do that . . . unless . . .” Stephanie paused, still hammering away at her keyboard, bringing up image after image.

Why do people always do that? You help them come to a conclusion, but they selfishly keep it to themselves and don’t share it. That’s just not right, Kass grumbled in her head. Unless what? she wondered curiously, turning her attention back to the TV.

“That is definitely a good assumption, Ryan. So, wrapping this up, what do you see for the future of Tiqpa as this bathrobed maniac continues to run amok? Will he truly rise to be the emperor of our new game?”

“Well, Daria, I hate to say it . . . but I, for one, am actually rooting for him.”

“Don’t tell me that, Ryan! How can you possibly believe it’s a good thing for this sociopath to be wreaking havoc across Tiqpa? There is nothing good about this. It’s detrimental to the player base, it’s taking away the game’s built-in political diversity, and it’s stopping a growing number of people from even enjoying the game. What could possibly be good about it?”

“Daria, just as you said in your own arguments against him, it’s a game. It’s a game through and through.” The images of Peh-Ting Zhou were now gone, and Kass could watch Ryan’s stiff face as he addressed Daria. “It’s good to see a villain grow in the game from such a small start. Usually, when I play games, I play from the point where the villain has already won, and I’m the hero who has to go out and vanquish him. If I were a Tiqpa player, even if I didn’t want to abandon my faction, travel to Mt. Lawlheima and join his legion, I would still be happy for this development. It would be a chance to be there from the start, watch his rise and help shape the history of the game.”

“I see what you mean, but what about the poor victims who have to suffer this villain’s crimes? Don’t you find these developments a little less than welcome news for the people who are building virtual lives in the safety of towns, but are having to experience a virtual version of death instead? Just so that this particular plotline can advance? I don’t know about you, but I would much rather play the game at a nice, leisurely pace than deal with what happened in Valcrest or what is happening in Peh-Ting Zhou right now. I like my MMOs to have their dungeons and bosses isolated, and I think this move away from that setup and its clear safe-zones across the map is going to cost Tiqpa valuable subscribers.”

“I just can’t agree with you there, Daria. I think the makers of Tiqpa are revolutionizing the massive multiplayer gaming industry in a way that will do the exact opposite. Currently, I don’t even own a proper dive machine and have only played the trial versions of Tiqpa; but, after seeing this, I am going to be the first one signing up tomorrow.”

“So you can join his demonic legion?” Daria looked absolutely disgusted

“Absolutely not! So I can stop it. Come on, Daria. Haven’t we all played that game where you asked yourself, ‘How did things get this bad? Shouldn’t people have put their foot down and stopped it?’ Well, now we get that chance to save the world before it all goes to Hell. When you beat a boss in one of those isolated dungeons, does it really feel epic? Do you actually feel like you made a difference? The towns are the same, the environment is the same, and, after the weekly reset, the boss is right back to where he was, same as before you left him. Nothing changes! But in Tiqpa, look how much has changed in just a small amount of time. We’ve seen entire political landscapes thrown into confusion and disarray with new orders rising from the chaos. We’ve seen dominions merge, kings killed and tyrants felled, and this is definitely something I want to be a part of from the get-go.”

“Oh, my god! How did I miss this? How did this almost escape me?” Stephanie shouted over Ryan’s impassioned rant about how great Tiqpa’s new villain arc was as she stood up and backed away from her monitor.

“What’s going on?” Kass asked. “Did you find Charles?”

“Well, in a matter of speaking? Maybe. I found what is left of him. Darwin killed him. He’s dead, right outside the portal.” Stephanie said it in a rush, and it went through Kass like another set of bullets.

“Outside the portal? Why would he be there? Does he play Tiqpa too?” Kass didn’t actually care. She was only asking to distract herself from thinking about Charles and killing again. Ever since she first regained consciousness back in Stephanie’s room, she had been feeling uneasy about the subject. On one hand, hearing that her would-be killer was dead felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off of her shoulders; but, on the other, it felt like another one had been added. Did Darwin become like that for my sake? She gulped. That wasn’t something she wanted to think about either. It was one thing to kill someone in self-defense, but there was a very good chance that Darwin hadn’t done that--that he had gone out of his way to murder someone and had done it on her account.

“No, but if he was trying to pull the wool over my eyes, that’s where he would have to trap Darwin. I need to go make sure Darwin is taking the killing alright. I mean, he looks fine physically . . . Well, he, like, totes look more than fine” --Stephanie gave Kass an unsettling wink-- “but I gots to check on his head ‘case something went wrong.” Stephanie was on her way out of the room when she came to a sudden stop in the doorway.

“Don’t wait up for me. I don’t think I can join you.” Kass nodded her head towards her stomach. “Just tell me how the big lump is when you get back.”

Stephanie cocked her head to the left. “Wait on you? Deary, I was trying to decide if I should go get a jacket and a scarf before I head out. I know that, in the romcoms, the guy always gives the girl his coat after a traumatic event while they are getting up in the back of an ambulance, but I thought I would switch up the gender roles and have a coat to put around Dar Dar as I comfort him. It’ll be cute. I hope. Maybe? Yeah, it needs to happen.” Stephanie darted to her closet, opened it up and pulled out an oversized peacoat. “I got this just for such an occasion. Can’t let it go to waste. I’m off now! Toodles!” Stephanie darted through the door at top speed, not even taking a break to put on the incredibly large coat as she ran.

Kass sighed. Charles deserved to die, but did Darwin really have to be the one to do it? She had mixed feelings about the news, still feeling somewhat guilty over being the possible impetus for his actions. I hope Darwin doesn’t go to jail. Wait, if he just came from the game . . . Kass remembered that she had messaged Daniel once or twice over the forums before. She opened up a laptop Stephanie had let her borrow and logged in to find a message already waiting for her.

Daniel: Kass, Darwin went crazy and disappeared down some secret stairs in Mt. Lawlheima. Is he okay? Have you heard from him? He completely lost it when we saw him last. He was talking to himself as he donned some crown that just appeared out of nowhere. Everyone is really anxious. If he contacts you first, please let us know.

Huh? Talking to himself? Crown? Kass wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but figured the urgency of the situation at least demanded a response. How much should I tell them? We talked about Charles wanting me to spy on him to them, so they kind of know the situation, but . . . I better not tell them the rest. Darwin can tell them if he wants.

Kass: Darwin is fine. He logged out. He’s in real life now.

Should I add more? Is it okay to tell them anything else? Did he kill Charles because of me . . .? The question floated around in the back of her head. It almost made her feel like she had pulled the trigger herself when she considered it through the lenses of a baseless but gnawing sense of guilt. I might not be a killer myself, but I am an accomplice, she conceded as she failed to convince herself that she wasn’t the one who had taken Charles’s life. He did it for me . . . Because I . . . He wouldn't have done if I hadn't gotten involved . . . I should have left things alone and never agreed to work for Charles. I was just selfishly trying to make money . . . Her side ached more with the thought. It felt like she had let down Darwin all over again.

The laptop dinged and let her know that a reply had already been sent from Daniel.

Daniel: Thanks for letting us know. We’re going to go manage a few little details of our burgeoning StormGuard Alliance until we log off for the night. You know where to reach us, and tell Darwin we hope he’s okay.

Kass: Will do. Take it easy.

Darwin:

As Darwin climbed up from Charles’s corpse and adjusted his robe, he saw Stephanie barreling toward him in the distance. Should I run to her? Should I just let her run to me? How does this work? This is the airport romance scene, right? Darwin laughed to himself as he casually tried to brush off some of Charles’s blood from his bathrobe. You know, the romance of a good, long run scene is lost when you actually have to wait for it to happen. I guess it works in airports because you generally don’t notice someone until they are almost right by you.

“Darwin!” Stephanie yelled at him from across the giant, empty chamber.

Fine. I’ll run. Darwin didn’t think that’s what she was actually yelling about as she barreled toward him in the most obscenely-frumpy navy blue peacoat he had ever seen, but he figured it was worth a shot to try and complete the moment. He could use a happy ending. In fact, after the day he had been having, the only thing he wanted more than a hot cup of chocolate with super tiny marshmallows served alongside a plate of cookies was a good hug. I guess that makes me a sap, right? Wanting a hug after a hard day. Whatever, he mused as he started in his own sprint towards Stephanie.

When they met, it wasn’t the beautiful hug he had planned. His massive weight and momentum knocked her back a step on impact, and he had to press into an awkward embrace to stop her from falling over backwards. Arms first next time. Gotta secure the payload, Darwin mentally noted so he wouldn’t ruin any similar cinematic moments in the future.

“Hey, thanks for coming out,” Darwin said as the hug eventually died down into the two of them just awkwardly leaning against each other. “I needed that.”

“What happened? I just found you on the security camera and came running,” she said as she nuzzled into Darwin’s chest. The first time they had done this, Darwin had actually been shorter, and the fact she was further down on his chest made things feel different than before. His deaths and resurrections had been giving him a height boost each time, and everything around him seemed smaller. I wonder if, when we get a place together, I can torment her by making sure all of her favorite snacks are on the top shelf. Darwin was careful not to let Stephanie hear him as he laughed to himself. Stephanie would probably look really cute if she were struggling to reach something. His thoughts were interrupted when Stephanie hit his chest.

“Stop that,” she laughed.

“Stop what? I wasn’t doing anything,” he protested.

“You were thinking something bad,” she insisted.

“Why would you say that?” You mind reader.

“Because you were laughing when there wasn’t a joke. You think I can’t feel a suppressed laugh when my face is pressed against your chest?” Stephanie asked, making her case.

Since she was actually right, Darwin didn’t really have much of a response. “I was just thinking about how cute you’ll be when we get a place together,” he told her, offering a conciliatory half-truth.

“Darwin, we’ve known each other, like, a week? You really want to move in already?” Stephanie backed further out of the already-broken hug and gave him a cold, cock-eyed stare.

“Well, uhh . . .” Darwin looked at her. Crap, is that not what is going to happen? Is it bad to think about that this early? He squirmed a bit until Stephanie’s chuckling shattered the icy look she had been giving him.

“It’s fine, you big oaf, or should I say, King Oaf? I like the crown, Darwin. Where did you get it?” Stephanie asked as she stood on her tiptoes and poked the shiny, new accessory resting on Darwin’s head.

“A king gave it to me in Tiqpa.” He saw Qasin flash before his eyes momentarily as he thought of the event. It was still fresh in his mind.

“Qasin? The king of the Humans? That’s a rather fitting crown to wear then.” Stephanie chuckled some more.

“Well, it’s also a fitting crown. I kind of expected it to rest it on top of my head more than actually wear it, given how small the little guy was,” Darwin noted as he poked the perfectly fit crown. “It’s like it was made more for me than for him.”

“Oh! Oh! I nearly forgot,” Stephanie took off her peacoat and ran around Darwin until she was right behind him. Then she jumped up and rested herself and the coat on Darwin’s shoulders. “There, there, Darwin. There, there. It’ll be alright.”

It’ll be alright, eh? Darwin actually enjoyed hearing those words spoken out loud. Stephanie’s tone was mostly joking, but the words still felt nice on his ears. It’ll be alright. He sighed. The ordeal was over, but echoes of the pain he had experienced still hung in the background, bouncing back into his thoughts from a distance now and then as he made nice with Stephanie. It won’t happen again, was what he really wanted her to assure him. There were times when he felt like she knew everything, like she was always there with the right answer, to help him out, but just a few hundred feet back and through a portal he had been crushed. He had been hurt, tormented, by a man he had counted a friend and for reasons he didn’t understand. That’s a lie. You know very well why, an inner voice told him. It was a hard voice to drown out. It whispered, You are the beast he said you were, but in the most non-judgmental way. And he deserved what he got. After all, he--

“I can’t wait to tell Kass how well I pulled this off,” Stephanie said as she rested on Darwin’s back, draped across his shoulders with her feet dangling in the air. “She’s going to be totes jealous of my idea.”

Back with that valley girl accent, Darwin sighed. He didn’t know how to break the news about Kass, and the fluctuating accent wasn’t helping. Stephanie still seemed to be changing personas more than an ice cream shop changes the names of their flavors, but he didn’t mind in most circumstances. Truthfully, part of him liked it and thought it was cute. Nevertheless, he just wanted to focus on the topic at this point. I didn’t realize she was actually close to Kass. “Umm . . . About that. Stephanie, Kass . . . Kass is kind of . . . dead . . . and so is Charles.” He kept his voice as even as possible so it wouldn’t be misread as either a jest or humor. “I know you were probably close to Charles, but --”

“Close to him? He has been plotting against me forever. And Kass isn’t dead. I literally just saw her five seconds ago. Charles only thought she was,” Stephanie chirped, cutting him off before he could attempt to comfort her. “Also, I already know Charles is dead. Why did you think I came down with the fancy coat? It was to comfort you after you murdered him.”

Darwin clenched his eyes shut for a moment. Well, I’m an idiot. He reached a hand over his shoulder to pat the tiny girl on his back. But at least I’m an idiot with a pretty woman. “So, if you were just with Kass, then I take it she’s in your room?”

“Oh, yeah! I forgot to tell you, Darwin. I have a hot, young 20-something-year-old in my bed right now. I hope you’re comfortable with that.” Stephanie beamed as she slid off his back and over to his side. “Because she’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Does that mean I have to sleep on the couch?” He gave Stephanie a wry grin. “I kind of thought that wouldn’t happen till later in the relationship.”

“That depends how good your behavior is and how many games I lose to you tonight.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m generally terrible at anything other than the good, old multiplayer computer games.”

“You know, Darwin, you’re kind of calm for someone who just killed a person. You holding up okay?” Stephanie asked.

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know why” --Darwin looked back to the body that was lying in front of the portal behind him and shrugged-- “but nothing has truly felt real since I first stepped into Tiqpa. It’s almost like whatever has to happen just does.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Stephanie patted his shoulder, her arm not quite stretching to the center of his back.

“Yeah, I think I am.” Darwin glanced upwards. He couldn’t see the crown, but he could feel it resting on his head and knew that it was still there.

“Good, because we have a guest we have to entertain. I’m thinking a lot of block organizing games, followed by some fighter games, and we can top it all off with an RPG where the two of you get to drive from the backseat while I play.” Stephanie grabbed Darwin’s hand and started merrily skipping back to the room, dragging him behind her. “I’ll have one of Charles’s people make us some nice pizza to eat while we game--they don’t know you killed him yet--and we can tease Kass by hugging and smooching in front of her so she feels terribly uncomfortable. Come on, we’re going to have a blast!”

-------

There was an awkward pause when Stephanie and Darwin finally made it back to the room. “Kass.” Darwin mouthed her name before actually speaking it out loud. The sight of her immediately let him know that something really had happened to her. He hadn’t been told the details of how she had been injured, but it was obvious from her bedridden state and the way she was clenching the side of her stomach that, while she might not be dead, it had likely been a close one. She paid the price for my actions, and I paid the price for the actions of those who came before me.

“What happened?” he asked after a moment of hanging in the doorway with his mouth open like he was trying to catch flies.

“Well, a few things here and there. Charles shot me, and Stephanie kidnapped me, but I’m better now.” Kass winced twice while speaking.

Better? It’s hurting you just to talk, and you’re going to say you’re better? Darwin frowned. He wanted to correct her and tell her she didn’t have to put on a strong face, but he also didn’t want to break her facade. She had clearly worked hard to throw it up, and there wasn’t anything to be gained by cracking it now. “Well, I killed him, so he won’t be able to shoot you again.” Darwin’s frown shifted up a bit on the right side into an awkward almost-smile.

“I heard from Stephanie.” Kass struggled to lean forward a little more, and it was a bit painful to watch. “But you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I did.” Darwin shrugged. “He was trying to trap me somewhere in Tiqpa where I’d be dead to this world for all intents and purposes.”

“Ah.” Kass sighed. “Then, uhh . . . Good thing you did, I guess.”

“Wow, you two are awkward together.” Stephanie stepped around Darwin, giggling. “Can you imagine if you guys ever dated? Your conversations would be like two cavemen grunting at each other with constipated faces.”

“What? Why would I ever date him?” Kass immediately countered Stephanie’s hypothetical situation with a flustered retort.

“No reason.” Stephanie giggled a little more as she came up near Kass. “But it’s not like it matters. What’s important now is that this bed is about to turn into prime gaming real estate, so I suggest you sit up and lean against the wall because I’m going to be scooting a television and a few gaming consoles over here for us to all play together.” Stephanie helped Kass do just as she had suggested before she plopped down next to her. “The only question left for the day is whether Darwin’s woman enough to keep up with me in some good, old-fashioned FPSs?”

Darwin’s earlier frown returned and deepened. Why do you have to challenge me so harshly over a video game? And why does it have to be an FPS? “Hey, I can handle myself just fine.” He laughed as he moved an old, late-2000s console over and set it up as the two girls watched.

“When you get to be my age, you should always strive to have a hot young man do all the manual labor while you watch,” Stephanie whispered to Kass loud enough for Darwin to hear. “It’s the best part of old age.”

Darwin looked over to see Kass’s face redden like a ripe tomato. “I’m not even shirtless!” he protested in response to her ogling. “Can’t you wait?”

“I’m pretty sure a bathrobe doesn’t count as a shirt,” Kass said, joining in with Stephanie’s laughter and smiling for the first time since Darwin had entered the room.

“You know, I’ve got a few dollar bills around here. If I slip one in your robe-string-thing you could--” Stephanie couldn’t even finish her sentence as she cracked herself up.

“Hey! Keep it PG!” Darwin continued to implore the two wanton women.

The three of them continued in this fashion for the rest of the night: laughing, chuckling and having fun while playing games until, by the time the sun was due to rise the next day, they had all settled into an awkward lump on top of each other. Kass had managed to pass out propped up across both of them, her snoring louder than the gunfire in the games they were playing.

-------

The next day, Darwin walked up the stairs leading from the portal up to the main chamber of the dungeon along with Stephanie and Kass, the latter of whom had met the two Demons at the portal. Stephanie had kept a spare dive machine stashed away, and Kass felt nearly back to normal now that she was in Tiqpa.

As they walked, Darwin looked over at where the boss den had been and found a veritable war room bustling with activity. Daniel, Alex and Kitchens were all poring over and marking up a collection of maps spread across several tables, and lots of new faces were rushing about and imbuing the place with a bustling excitement.

“I see everyone’s busy. Did we get additional recruits?” Darwin asked, catching everyone’s attention as he continued to look around. What are they all working on? he wondered as he approached one of the tables.

“Yeah, we’ve had a long day organizing battle formations, strategies and contingencies, but we’ve made a lot of progress,” Daniel said as he came up to Darwin’s side.

“Great Lord Darwin!” Alex called from one of the tables, immediately jumping over it and running towards Darwin. “I was told you had been kept away by extenuating circumstances regarding your health. Everyone was worried.”

“I can see that.” Darwin grinned as he looked around at his faithful companions, each filing in one after the other to create a semicircle several rows deep in front of him.

“Great Lord Darwin” --Alex gave a half bow as he spoke the title-- “to show that our hearts were still with you, we worked all night towards the cause you have taken up. We feared the worst and redoubled our efforts to ensure that your vision would become manifest and that your legacy would continue.”

So that my legacy would continue? What is my vision that they were working hard to make a reality? “That’s excellent. Let me get settled in for a moment, Alex, and I’ll come by your war table so that you can bring me up to speed. Perhaps you can also show me how the new recruits are performing and give me a few status updates as well?”

“Yes, Great Lord Darwin, I’ll prepare them right away. Men, our task has just begun!” Alex disappeared with all of the other NPCs, leaving only Daniel, Kitchens, Minx, Mclean, Valerie and Fuzzy Wuzzy behind.

“So, now that they’re gone, how are you?” Kitchens asked, his brow furrowed a bit, likely with concern.

“I’m great.” Darwin didn’t have to lie. He was. He had come to terms with the fact that Charles was right: He easily killed people whom he didn’t consider his own, whom he didn’t feel some connection to or responsibility for. He just didn’t care about that anymore. Right or wrong, there were choices that had to be made. Whether for better or worse, the number of casualties could climb to billions, and he would still choose his demons over someone else’s people. His peace with that fact wasn’t just because he had come to terms with the truth that he valued them over others, that he valued the life of someone like Alex over that of the Panda King, but also because he had come to terms with the reality that he was a killer. “Yeah, I’m just fine. Except,” he looked at his health bar, “I’ve been too long without feeding the Hunger skill. I think I need to get out on the battlefield soon.” He patted his sword, acknowledging the growing itch to use it. It’s okay, we’ll feed you soon enough.

“Ah. We already thought about that. Here you go.” Mclean pulled a red snow cone monster, which had somehow been incapacitated, out of her inventory and tossed it towards Darwin. “We have some more locked away in a prison. We weren’t sure how close to death you would be when we saw you again, so we went and got you a bunch of prey to kill.”

They are so thoughtful. Darwin grinned as his sword cut the red snow cone in two while it floated in the air halfway between him and Mclean. “Well, I guess that only leaves us with one thing left to do: come up with more prey for our army.”

“Are the snow cones going to be enough to hold you off? We remember you went crazy when you didn’t kill anything for a few hours outside of Peh-Ting Zhou.” Kitchens stare was filled with worry, even if it would be hard for most people to pick up on.

“Yeah, it should be good now,” Darwin guessed. He couldn’t be certain, but ever since he had received the crown, since he had come to terms with his nature, he had begun to feel like the madness wouldn’t be rearing its head any time soon. He had even hypothesized last night as he gamed that it wasn’t triggered by the lack of killing or the need to kill, but his own internal struggles with his nature breaking through his psyche. A race that could never accept itself as anything less than saints coming to terms with the part of them that was bloodthirsty must have naturally created a lot of psychological problems, forcing them to repress their conscience to satiate their hunger.

“Well, if you say so,” Mclean gave a half smile to match Kitchens’ own unhappy look at the answer. “Anyway, I remember we talked about Jotunnheim, and Alex has already put together a lot of maps covering both the city and its surrounding environs. We’ve even assembled detailed layouts of their political structure,” Mclean said. “But . . . Well, I can’t join you tonight if you attack that soon.”

“Why not?” This time he wanted to ask her if she was okay.

“I’d love to, but . . . Well, I have to go to work tomorrow. My vacation is over, and I need to get back to the daily grind.”

“School doesn’t start back for a few days for me.” Minx snuggled into Fuzzy Wuzzy. “But they say no pets allowed. Fuzzy Wuzzy, you’re not a pet, are you?” Minx hugged Fuzzy Wuzzy’s big arm. “You’re not a pet . . . You can come, right?” she then pouted. “Ugh, why can’t you be my Fuzzy Wuzzy in real life!”

“Because if he were in real life, I’m pretty sure your principle would still have an issue with you bringing a giant bear into the classroom.” Kitchens shook his head in dismay. “You are definitely your mother’s daughter.”

“Well, I might not have school, but like Minx, I definitely have work soon. I start back tomorrow too,” Daniel chimed in. “It’s been a fun ride, but things have to come to an end sooner or later.”

“Do they?” Stephanie looked around at the group of players that made up Darwin’s inner circle. “Of course, Minx, you would still need an education. Someone needs to teach you how to tie a tie properly, after all,” she said as she picked Minx up, stretched out her arms and then clasped her around Fuzzy Wuzzy’s neck. “There, that looks like much better than the last one. Everyone, what if I could promise you a healthy salary every month plus room and board with dental? Would you mind coming to work for me?”

“Huh? Doing what?” Valerie asked, looking skeptical. “I mean, I may have gotten some movement back in my legs, but I still have no work experience.”

“Sure you do--at least the kind you need, anyway.” Stephanie circled Valerie like a dog sniffing around a piece of meat. “After all, the only thing I’ll need you to do is take over Tiqpa for my Darwin.”

“And you’ll pay?” Mclean brandished her knives. “Three thousand a month?” she asked, inserting a number into the conversation.

“I’ll make it twelve thousand and have a contract to you within the hour,” Stephanie beamed. “After all, I’m kind of filthy rich, and my partner just passed away leaving me all of his wealth too.”

“Why would you do that though?” Kitchens looked skeptical. “I mean, I am assuming the offer extends to me too, right?”

“Yeah. It does. I am doing it for my own reasons. One contract, one plane ticket, less than an hour. You can verify the writing and wait for the first check to clear. I’ll pay you three months in advance. You guys in or out?” Stephanie asked, pressing her offer.

“I’m in,” Mclean said without hesitation. “Do I need to log out?”

“Yeah, you will. I’ll use your payment records at Tiqpa to get your info, so don’t worry about sending it,” Stephanie said, and Mclean’s avatar disappeared almost as soon as she he had finished speaking.

“Paid to play games . . . This will shoot my resume . . . Screw it. I’m in.” Daniel vanished too.

“And here Mom thought I’d spend the rest of my days as an unemployed bed-rester.” Valerie laughed as her own image faded.

“I’m assuming the chef can bake good cookies, right?” Kitchens asked.

“The best,” Darwin answered for Stephanie, and then Kitchens logged off too.

Minx looked at Stephanie grumpily. “You’re taking away one of my last days to play with my dad before vacation ends.” She stuck out her tongue at Stephanie. “That offer better be good when I graduate. Come on, Fuzzy, we’re out of here!”

“There are schools in this area if you want to have things discussed. We can get you the best private teachers if you want to stay with your dad,” Stephanie said. “You won’t have to put up with the mean bullies at your current school.”

“Umm . . . Well, I need to go talk about things then.” Minx disappeared from her perch atop the giant black bear.

“And then there were three.” Darwin looked over at Stephanie. “So why did you do that?”

“Because it’s important to me that the StormGuard Alliance grows, and we already know that you can trust this group of people. They know a lot more than they let on, and they’ve kept your secrets and your best interest in mind ever since they met you. That loyalty isn’t something you can usually buy. Plus, they need the money. Did you see how fast they jumped at joining up with a stranger when I offered cash in advance?”

“Yeah, but . . .” Darwin’s face scrunched up. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Charles wasn’t wrong, Darwin. I want to take over the real world, and this is an important step. After all, our little family has already grown by two more girls in the real world.” Stephanie smiled coyly as she spoke.

“You’re expecting twins?!” Darwin’s mouth popped open like a champagne cork shooting off the bottle as he misinterpreted Stephanie’s statement.

“No, Dar Dar, I meant . . . Well, look at Kass!” Stephanie hit Darwin’s chest.

Darwin looked over at the first friend he had made in Tiqpa. She’s paler than she was yesterday, he noted. She’s grown paler than she was when we first met. She’s almost as pale as Eve now, and her hair is darker . . . So that’s your game plan, eh? Darwin suddenly understood. First Valerie and Kass, then you want to restore our race one-by-one. If we have an eternity, then it will only be a matter of time--time that we have--until you get your way. “Alright, I get it.”

“I don’t. What do you mean about me? Is there something on my face?” Kass poked around her face feeling for anything unusual or something that might have changed. “Ugh. Where is a mirror? I knew I shouldn’t have eaten spinach this morning. It’s in my teeth, isn’t it?”

“No, you’re just a bit pale. Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to be here with us? I mean, you’re still recovering, right?” Darwin asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine. For some reason, I felt a lot better this morning,” she said, patting her stomach. “I’m probably only going to play an hour or two more and then go call my dad. Oh! Right! Stephanie, if you can pretend like you're one of my friends from college, and we just had a rough night last night, that’d be great. I need you to vouch for me since my dad thought I was lying last night when I told him that I was at a friend’s place and wouldn’t be coming home. I mean, he didn’t call me out on it, but he totally had that judgmental tone.”

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll cover for you. But you’re going to sign the contract too, right? I mean, you’re one of us.” Stephanie said, putting Kass on the spot.

“Steady employment for playing games? That’s exactly what I’m in for. But . . . I’d like to actually work at the Tiqpa offices with the designers, my dad especially, if you can arrange that. I know gaming is good and all, but trying to avoid real work hasn’t turned out great for me lately.” Kass poked her belly where the gunshots had been.

“No problem.” Stephanie smiled ear to ear. “It’s good to hear you want to get real work done.”

“Well, if this touching moment is over, I need to go wrap up with Alex. He seemed pretty eager to show me some things. Do you want to come along and inspect the troops, or do you have to go send out those contracts? By the way, do I get paid too, or do I need to go find my office and tell them I’m not dead yet?” Darwin laughed.

“What’s mine is yours, dear.”

“So . . .” Darwin waited for Stephanie to give him a real answer.

“No, you don’t need to go back to that pencil-pushing job,” Stephanie laughed. “But you should probably call the police and tell them that you’re not missing. You’ll be questioned about that unfortunate incident in your apartment, but I’ll make sure that all gets swept neatly under the rug. Also, we may need to stop by your place later and pick up any of the old things you want that were left behind. Anyway, let’s go check things out!”

Things that I might need that I’ve left behind? No, I’m happy just leaving everything from that life behind. Darwin grinned. “You sure you don’t need to send those contracts out? I mean, they are going to be waiting on them.”

“I already knew everyone would agree, so I had it arranged while you were trying to figure out why Kass was running circles around you like a Kenyan track star at your favorite game.” Stephanie’s smile and laugh must have been contagious as they both spread to Kass.

“It’s not my fault your oafish big fingers can’t operate a controller that small,” Kass chimed in. “Or let’s at least hope that’s the reason since his character was bumbling around worse than a staggering drunk attempting parkour.” Stephanie had verbally stabbed him, but Kass had just dug the knife further in.

“That’s it. I’m going to have to play solo-RPGs from now on.” Darwin threw up his hands in defeat.

“Come on, you big baby, let’s go see what Alex has to show us.” Stephanie took one of the hands Darwin had thrown in the air, pulled it down and promptly latched onto it, starting to walk towards Alex and dragging Darwin with her.

Darwin smiled. This is the good life, he thought as he followed after Stephanie for a moment. Kass joined them, walking on his other side as she fiddled around with her staff. “I really need to get some levels and replace this,” she mumbled.

“We’ll have plenty of time,” Darwin said before reaching up and unconsciously adjusting his crown.

Reliquary

The Monster Manual:

Beetle-Bee: With one horn in the front and one horn in the back, the four-foot-long Beetle-Bee is deadly from both ends. Its favorite method of attacking is using its wings to propel it into its foe horn first and swinging its stinger into the enemy as soon as impact occurs.

Strengths: Japanese gambling games, flower collecting.

Weaknesses: Strong winds, alcohol (A drunk Beetle-Bee is more sad than deadly.)

Black Bear: Sometimes a bear is just a bear, and that’s all there is to it. With nothing but muscles, claws and an appetite greater than its cuteness, beware of the bear.

Strengths: Bear arms, salmon, napping.

Weaknesses: Honeypots, bees, overnapping.

Blue-Drakes: Contrary to popular belief, the color of the drake’s skin does not change the element it shoots out of its mouth. Instead, it just makes it harder to spot on a nice sunny day with a clear blue sky. Acting as a sort of camouflage, the blue scales help it sneak up on unsuspecting forest creatures when the drake decides it is time for a barbeque. A very handy trick to have on a Saturday afternoon.

Strengths: Doesn’t ever need a lighter, wingmen often have actual wings, can disco dance with amazing talent.

Weaknesses: The Blue-Drake will often accidently burn its own TV when watching sports due to the difficulty of controlling flames while cheering.

Bumba-Ant: This four-foot-tall goat horn equipped black and yellow ant is constantly struggling to stay alive in the cruel world that made it. It’s too large to sneak away with picnic food unnoticed and too big to survive on the small amount of food the queen gives out. That’s why, unlike any of the other species of ants, this particular one has given up on perfect structure and order, and formed a union: one that spans the entire species, protecting the innocent workers from the tyranny of the queens.

Strengths: Building stuff, especially sand castles.

Weakness: Magnifying glasses.

The Burglar: If you’ve ever had to pay money for locks, a security system and theft insurance, you can thank this mob. Adverse to hard work and determined to take that which is not theirs, the only thing worse than their impact on family vacations is their often awful fashion sense and insistence on wearing women’s lingerie and ski attire for masks.

Strengths: Good at acting dangerous to pick up less than intelligent mates.

Weaknesses: Dogs, police officers, angry mothers.

Deer-Frog: Old men aren’t the only ones who are horny when they croak; so are the Deer Frogs. Their creepy, giant googly-eyes are always following their prey. For those who aren’t careful, a quick tongue will latch onto its victim and pull the giant man-sized frog straight into its prey--or the other way around, depending on who is heavier--leaving its antlers firmly planted in its victim.

Strengths: Giant man-sized flies, beer commercials, tap dancing.

Weaknesses: Fire, ice.

Demon-Mole: They have all the standard red, beady-eyed attributes of a demon, but they are moles. Raised on a diet of guacaMole, aniMole crackers and Mole-assus, one has more to fear from their imMole-ating abilities than their Mole-ars, though both can ensure a disMole fate for a foe.

Strengths: Spying, sneaking behind enemy lines, making a black spot on someone’s skin.

Weaknesses: 6.02 x 10^23

Devil-Moose: The Devil-Moose actually used to be called the Angel-Moose and was renown for attempting to save everyone it could. That is of course, until it found out that it was no longer included in its nations ‘Free Health Care’ policies. The cursed governor put in a clause that made it for only Humans, driving the Angel-Moose down the road to darkness, where they have since lived. Hunting, killing, and murdering the people who took away their excellent dental plan are these guys new pastimes.

Strengths: It is great at telling jokes that are, a-moose-ing.

Weakness: Always stops for maple syrup.

Editor: Died during the making of this book from facepalming too hard while trying to clean up the book’s grammar. May or may not have been from a Hemingway-like stupor.

FlamAntis: These giant, fiery praying mantis-like creatures are constantly honing their killing ability with the precision of a martial artist. Each day they live in this world of harrowing hatred for their kind is a trial. Each day of which they reach the end, a success. Their skills in combat are only surpassed by their long lifespan, a necessary attribute for the continuation of their species. After all, it takes years of being single for a male praying mantis to accept what will happen to him right after he mates. Maybe, just maybe, if one of the grooms didn’t ask their new bride to go make him a ham sandwich, they wouldn’t all end up dead.

Strengths: Females get more than 77% of the male equivalent income for efforts.

Weaknesses: Females never successfully collect child care.

Goldfish-Butterfly-Squirrel: This creature is a clear jab at one creator’s inability to stay focused with every metaphor for losing one’s attention except a cat with a laser rolled up into one monstrously ugly and confusing creature. It’s almost hard to feel threatened. That said, the butterfly-winged flying furball with fish eyes and a fish tail is clearly not trying to threaten anyone, it’s just trying to make you laugh before you forget what it likely already has: that you’re supposed to kill it.

Strengths: Nothing.

Weakness: Shiny objects--Oh! Look at the flutterby!

Lava-bug: Did the writer really just get so lazy he wrote out lava bug and pretended like it was a real race of mobs? How is this even specific? Let’s just ignore the rest of the details and pretend it was a pretty pink stuffed triceratops riding a unicycle and holding streamers at the same time, that were red like lava.

Strengths: Has the ability to wave streamers in cool fashions.

Weaknesses: Was kicked out of San Francisco after an incident on Castro street.

Mutant Boar: Breeding experiments to produce the most flavorful slices of bacon have resulted in more violent, meaner, and deformed boars. That said, the bacon is in fact quite delicious, if it can be harvested.

Strengths: Charging, or rather, running in a straight line.

Weakness: Grills, frying pans,

OctoStench: The stink bug is by far one of nature’s cruelest jokes. Harmlessly fluttering around its entire life with no defense other than the fact that upon death it smells so rank most people are forced to hold their nose for fear of a wave of nausea overtaking them. OctoStench is what happens when that awful odor gets transformed into a spitting device, made poisonous, and thrown on top of eight legs. Just to make matters more amusing, they threw in sword arms--because sword arms.

Strengths: Saves a ton on deodorant.

Weaknesses: Saves on deodorant because even deodorant can’t cover up the awful smell.

Ogre: Mean, clunky and bigger by the level. Often thought of as a savage and barbaric creature by those who hunt them for experience or items, the Ogre actually is a very calm creature who often seeks to achieve a state of inner peace and has thus discarded most, if not all, of its material possessions and desires. Unfortunately, living in a forest surrounded by aggressive adventurers has trained the Ogre to keep a maul as a form of self-defense.

Strengths: Big. Big big. Super big.

Weaknesses: Lazy and fond of comfortable places to rest when no-one is looking.

Rhino-Beetle: These ever-horny deviants are constantly charging through the gambling arenas of Tiqpa. Caught, bred and then kept in tiny circular rooms where they wait for fights, many Tiqpa residents have complained about their inhumane treatment. Some, in a now infamous attempt, even tried to free one such imprisoned Rhino-Beetle, only to be gored and danced upon by the unchained beast as soon as the collar was removed.

Strengths: Really good at charging forward.

Weaknesses: Can’t bet on self.

Scorpatuar: Half disfigured-looking humanoid, half-horse with an added scorpion tail just for kicks, this monster is a true work of nightmares. The tail lashes out faster than a news anchor’s tongue in a lopsided interview and rarely misses. While running may be a victim’s first instinct, rest assured the horse legs are not for decoration. Praying is a better use of time.

Strengths: The Scorpataur is good at eating spicy food and tricking frogs.

Weaknesses: The Scorpataur, like most horses, is susceptible to random hangings and sugar cubes.

Snow Cone, Black: The Black Snow cone is a passive observer as the other colors skirmish, often lazing about and hoping for the best. After all, once the fight is lost, its fate is worse than death. A solution to the Snownicorns’ puzzle.

Strengths: It doesn’t get killed during the fight.

Weaknesses: Doesn’t real do anything, at all, during the fight.

Snow Cone, Blue: Blue balls are familiar to many audiences, but none of them have ever tasted as good as these snow cones.

Strengths: Extra tough arms.

Weaknesses: Generally, doesn’t get the same amount of attention as the red snow cone.

Snow Cone, Red: The real question in every person’s mind when they pick up a red snow cone, is: “Will it be strawberry or cherry?” Imagine the surprise when one person found a watermelon flavored one. After all, who even does that?

Strengths: Powers up when angry. Irrational, moody, and filled with angst.

Weaknesses: Chocolate and peanut butter.

Snow Cone, Yellow: Don’t ask how this one was made.

Strengths: Can produce shields that people, rightly so, don’t want to deal with.

Weaknesses: Melts when listening to slow jams.

Turtle-Wolf: Standing on two legs like a dog that thinks he is human, the wolf inside the shell has manlike hands tapered off with claws instead of paws and a twisting, swiveling long neck that lets you know the shell isn’t the only part of the creature that is turtle. It has all the defense of a fully-armored soldier coupled with the aggression of a rabid wolf.

Strengths: Racing rabbits, chasing cars, tracking.

Weakness: Standing up if pushed on its back, fence posts.

I’m Not a Racist, but:

Human [Human]: One look in the mirror will tell you everything you need to know about this often-frumpy, weak-muscled, overlooked race. Even in the real world they lack many characteristics gamers would value on a stat sheet, but for some reason they always seem to prevail. Be wary of doubting or underestimating the tenacity of the meek and cunning.

Bonus: +1 stat point per level.

Minotaur [White-Horn]: More bull than man, these lumbering giants may have many myths and stories revolving around how they were made, most with jokes about someone’s mother looking like a cow, but that doesn’t change the fact they are a massive force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Favoring the axe and their brute power, they can cleave through most lines with little to no effort.

Bonus: +5% Movement Speed in combat, +20% Movement Speed out of combat, +5% Power, +5% Damage when wielding axes, can’t wear shoes.

Satyr [White-Horn]: Satyrs don’t kid around when it comes to magic. These half-goat men are experts at manipulating nature and traversing rough terrain. With enough of them in an army, one is sure to control the weather--just don’t expect to keep your lawn.

Bonus: +10% Casting Speed, +25% Movement Speed over rough terrain, +5% Cold Resistance.

Vampire [Black-Wing]: Arguably the suckiest race in the game, Vampires have learned to embody the true spirit of a bat man. They thrive on the night and draw the life force out of any foe within reach during combat. With their large, dark, black wings, Lifesteal, and affinity for the night, the Vampire is a terror in the skies when the sun sets.

Bonus: Flying, +5% Lifesteal on Melee Attacks, +5% Increased Damage during nighttime.

Incubus/Succubus [Black-Wing]: It’s always a common joke that a woman is a man’s worst enemy, or the other way around depending on who is saying it. And, by that logic, this race fits right in. An innate charm serves to disarm opponents of the opposite gender during combat. That said, there are far worse ways to die than in the presence of a sexy foe.

Bonus: Flying, +5% Damage against opposite gender, +5% Damage bonus with whips.

Dragon-Wing [Black-Wing]: There are few things more ferocious than a full-grown, fire-breathing, battle-worn dragon. Unfortunately, this is just a cheap knockoff version. They have a great deal of health like the dragons they take their name from and are excellent at resisting fire. Even if they aren’t actually dragons, they do make great dragon hunters.

Bonus: Flying, +10% Vitality, +25% Fire Resistance.

White-Wing [Sun God Empire]: The White-Wings are what people first wanted angels to be: humans with giant sets of wings. This race has mastered prison fighting and learned to wield the shiv with expert dexterity. Contrary to all the chicken jokes though, they do not run from fights.

Bonus: Flying, +10% Damage with daggers, -10% Damage with all other weapons, +5% Armor bonus when wearing low-weight armor.

Fire-Walker [Sun God Empire]: Love the fresh smell of napalm in the morning? Fire-Walkers sure do. They may have given up smoking cigarettes, but they’ve permanently solved the lighter issue. With feet always on fire and flames shooting out of any body part, Fire-Walkers have trouble handling normal weapons and developed their own unique crafting system to compensate.

Bonus: -50% Damage with non-glass weapons, cannot wear shoes, +10% Damage with glass. weapons, Fire Manipulation, Fire Creation, Fire Crafting.

Demon [StormGuard Alliance]: No one knows where they came from or when they arrived, but this mysterious race of red-eyed, black-haired human look-alikes is feared and respected by those who know better.

Bonus: Locked stat growth, unique abilities, unusually high stat growth

Canine [Were-Beast]: Between dodging flees, chasing carts and harassing friendly delivery men, it’s a wonder the Canines ever manage to get anything done. One might be better off just adopting them and providing them with a little kibble, belly rubs (their favorite) and a scratch behind the ears rather than trying to fight one. It’s best to let sleeping dogs lie, especially when they’re engrossed in their favorite activity: sleep. Never try to discount their incredible loyalty and teamwork in battle. Where one Canine might be deadly, five are nearly unstoppable. Don’t press the pack.

Bonus: +1% to Power, Speed, Vitality for every friendly Canine, including self, in the party [Up to 8% max]; +10% Movement speed; -20% Movement Speed when near fire hydrants.

Feline [Were-Beast]: Few people know that Felines were actually a race of aliens that came to Tiqpa to enslave humanity after losing a galactic war with the laser pointer-wielding dog people. While these dogs have nothing to do with the Canines on Tiqpa, the grudge still remains. They are also often mistaken with their more feral, less civilized Panthera cousins.

Bonus: +5% to all stats when traveling alone, +5% Speed, +5% Damage with daggers, movement produces 50% less sound.

Panthera [Were-Beast]: Lions and tigers and Pantheras, oh my!  These night time thugs come with built in jump suits that are pre-striped or dotted, hunting down their prey and turning them into homicide victims before they even had a chance to notice something was amiss. While they may seem like the perfect Ninjas, very few of them ever pounce on that opportunity instead choosing to rush into battle claws first.

Bonus: +5% Power, +5% Movement Speed in combat, +15% Damage on initial hit, +20% Movement Speed out of combat, has night vision, movement produces 50% less sound.

Reptilian [Were-Beast]: Before pondering the nature of a Reptilian, know that they pondered it first. After all, they spend most of their time forming questions regarding philosophical rhetoric and contemplating the nature of the universe. These cold-blooded theorists will generally explore the mysteries of the universe alone, unheard by men or reason, over a cup of black tea served with crumpets. Unfortunately, no man has ever seen this side of them. The few Humans that have ever made it into their dwellings are usually found in the morning skewered on a freshly-planted spike in the gardens outside their homes.

Bonus: Can breathe underwater, +5% power, +5% to speed, +5% damage with all melee weapons. -25% Fire Resistance, -25% Cold Resistance.

Simian [Were-Beast]: These staff wielding pranksters tend to barrel headfirst into everything and are always up to monkey business from the day they are born--which is why Simian parents have long refused to give up the right to punish their children. After all, even though spanking the monkey sounds bad, a monkey that has never been spanked would be a nightmare for the whole town. Be careful: their uncles are everywhere and can throw a wrench into even the best laid plans.

Bonus: +10% Damage when wielding staves, +5% Speed, +25% height when jumping.

Ursine [Were-Beast]: Making a pun about ‘bear’ arms might seem harmless and amusing until one is actually faced with a pair of real bear arms. When around this race that defined the gun show in terms of muscular fortitude, jokes should be made as little as possible. Respectable, pink shirt-wearing businessmen and frat boys have been advised to not do anything fishy or jump around them.

Bonus: Hands act as a weapon equivalent to level (Damage and Strength will vary based on stats and class), +10% Power, +5% Vitality.

Earth-Walkers [Jotunn Kingdom]: Every wingless bi-ped in Tiqpa can be considered an earth walker to some degree, but in reality they just walk across the earth. Only the Earth-Walker truly walks with the land. Each step he makes, the earth follows, each thought he has, the ground listen. While they claim to be a part of the Jotunn kingdom, the only thing they follow is the earth that follows them.

Bonus: Ability to control and manipulate the earth underneath them. +10% Vitality.

Grendel-Kin [Jotunn Kingdom]: After an incident with one of their ancestors, they often avoid disturbing drunk people in taverns. Despite their uncouth exterior and general refusal towards basic hygiene, this race of fishermen, in contrast with their Jotunn brothers, are generally very well reserved and polite people. Their hospitality is as unrivaled as their smell.

Bonus: +50% resistance to poison, +5% speed.

Jotunn {Jotunn Kingdom]: Unexpectedly, this giant race of long-armed, hairy people is often known for their wit and sense of humor, not their incredible strength. Their love for discourse, immunity from hatred and ability to get under everyone’s skin has slowly created a need for strength and martial discipline to defend themselves against extinction. This has inevitably led to their dominance of both politics and culture within their land. Be warned at all times when you hear the true troll’s battlecry: “You mad bro?”

Bonus: They even lift. And never skip leg day. +10% to strength, Immunity to mind-based crowd control effects, all other crowd controlling effects are halved.

Those People Who Didn’t Ask for More Money on Their Contracts When Signing up for the Sequel:

Darwin: A video gaming demon who has been trapped in the world of Tiqpa, forced to level up and survive as he attempts to find his way home.

Stephanie: A fellow gamer and the boss of a dungeon, she abandoned her post to chase after and be with Darwin.

Alex: Once just a simple scout, Alex is now the lead representative for the people of Valcrest. He commands the troops of the StormGuard Alliance in Darwin’s absence.

Kass: The daughter of Robert, one of the lead designers of Tiqpa, and an avid gamer herself. She is currently trying to be the highest level Frost Mage in the game and is using Darwin to get there.

Robert: Lead programmer of Tiqpa and father of Kass. Currently investigating the bathrobe knight who has upset the balance of a game he spent years making.

Valerie: A disabled girl who uses Tiqpa to experience the sensation of being able to move all of her limbs again. She gets wrapped up in the game, even romancing an NPC shortly before he dies and she finds out that her faction has turned against her. She escapes with her friends, Daniel and Mclean, to join Darwin in the middle of the White-Wing beach battle.

Daniel: One of the two close friends who joined Valerie when she achieved a high enough rank to assign quests for the White-Wings. He, along with Valerie and Mclean, joins the StormGuard Alliance after the White-Wing beach battle.

Mclean: One of the two close friends who joined Valerie when she achieved a high enough rank to assign quests for the White-Wings. She, along with Valerie and Daniel, joins the StormGuard Alliance in the middle of the White-Wing beach battle.

Eve: Claiming to be Darwin’s sister, this mysterious figure leads him to discover the creation stone needed to convert the people of Valcrest into Demons. Later she is seen traveling alongside Qasin, claiming that her goal is to reach and rescue her brother.

Gary: Robert’s coworker and Tiqpa design team leader. The only thing worse than his choice in clothes is his uncomfortable insistence on bad jokes and inappropriate comments.

Qasin: From soldier to King, the great warrior freed himself of his political chains and carved the three factions of Noob Island into one great empire. After he had conquered the land though, he left the island and his faction behind to accompany Eve on her quest to rescue her brother.

Pets:

Jim: This supposed ‘dog’ owned by Kerrigan may sound lovable, but be careful. The second you come over, he’ll rush. You’ll lose all your mineral far . . . wait. Never mind. You’ll just get a bunch of that annoying hair all over your black slacks.

Fuzzy Wuzzy: Some people like dogs, some people like cats, but both Darwin and Kass seemed to have gotten attached to this future rug of an in law. Between the soft fur and the oddly unexpected sense of humor for both an NPC and an animal, this bear has grown into quite the lovable fur ball.

Inventory of Items:

Burny’s Ironic Blade:  This ice covered blade is often preferred, unironically, in cold zones and mountains. Many coffeeshop dwellers seek it for its name, the rest pursue it for its surprising ability to burn enemies alive, despite its cold visage.  May have been forged from an anti-griddle.

Stats: 50 Damage, +200 additional fire damage. Burns target for 25 damage per second (stacks up to 5 times). +15 speed.

Burriza’s Blade: What does a Polar Bear have to do with a sword? Who knows, but when you see how well it turned out, who cares?

Stats: 215 Damage, +10 Power

Captain’s Emblem: A symbol of power can be more than just a symbol if it carries with it the trust and hopes of those who give it meaning.

Stats: When carried, raises the level of all NPCs commanded by +5; All nearby allied players and NPCs will receive +5% to all stats.

Captain’s Ring: Often those who receive this item complain that it isn’t powerful enough. It doesn’t have enough stats. That’s because they don’t understand that its only limit is the strength of those who follow its wearer.

Stats: +10 Power, +1% increased Power and Speed for all allied party members.

Crown of the Ice Queen: Flung away by a princess in a musical number that defined the entire movie, this long lost diadem was somehow recovered and sold by a rather shady individual. Even the Ice Queen has to let her hair down sometimes, although by now I’m pretty sure she’s sorry she ever let it go.

Stats: +30 Spirit, +30 Concentration, +5% Damage to cold based spells.

Restriction: Frost Mage only.

Dragon’s Final Hymn: A dragon may die, but his flames never perish. The same is also what was said about Sir Frank Fluffabuff and his trusty zweihander. This is why, long after the knight had been eaten while holding the sword, the dragon died with the undigested blade still inside him. After the knight and the dragon had faded into oblivion, the two unyielding forces of fire and blade still stuck around--and stuck to each other.

Stats: 485 Damage, +30 Power, +20 Speed, +10% Fire Resistance, Damage is halved when dual wielding.

Dragon’s Tear: Proving that there is at least some value in making someone cry, the Dragon’s Tears sometimes harden into beautiful jewelry with magical powers. At other times, they just ruin the shoulder of someone’s shirt.

Stats: +10 Spirit, +10 Concentration.

Double-Bladed Axe: If Wrigley’s Spearmint gum has taught us anything, it’s that it’s perfectly okay to double your pleasure and double the fun, and nothing says twice as much fun as an extra blade on an axe.

Stats: 135 Damage.

Dull Iron Axe: Sometimes, you have to make do with what you have. After all, a giant axe to an enemy’s face is better than nothing, right?

Stats: 98 Damage.

Enchanted Bathrobe of Valcrest: Special times call for special measures. When armor is too heavy, clothes take too long to put on and you’re expecting company, the bathrobe is the right special measure needed. This one just comes fully decked out. Ramen not included.

Stats: +15 to Power, +15 Speed, +15 Vitality, reduces incoming Damage from all sources by 10%, +35 Damage when wielding Spoons, +10 damage versus French Onion Soup

Golden Creation Stone: Ever wanted to pose yourself as the titular head of a demonic host?  Look no further!  Ideas take many shapes and forms, but at the end of the day, it's always the gold that unifies people.  Proof positive that if you put a bunch of people in a dungeon together and get stoned, you'll all eventually end up with red eyes one way or another.

Slippers of +10 Face Smashing: It’s tennis shoes for running, black dress shoes for fancy events, and slippers for face smashing. Never question a man in a bathrobe when his slippers are red.

Stats: +10 to comfy walking, +10 to Face Smashing, -10 to fashion.

Ring of the Ice Queen: No one is sure if they called her the Ice Queen because she was as frigid as a winter’s storm when it came to dating, or if it was because of her profound affinity for summoning a winter’s storm. Either way, one can be certain that the ring’s power is authentic and came directly from the Ice Queen herself, after all, what guy would offer her a ring? Regardless, the ring was aptly named and has served many Mages since.

Stats: +10 Vitality, +10 Spirit, +10 Concentration.

Restriction: Frost Mage only.

Ring of the Unkept Promise: Some items are just mysterious with backstories you only hear about way after they would have been helpful, never at all, or right when you’re in the middle of something important and you can’t pause. Sometimes, you just keep spamming the “skip text” button and never bother to find out. It’s like these things were added to the game by a developer who was going for the ‘shady foreshadowing with intriguing items’ effect but didn’t feel like fleshing it out.

Stats: +30 Power, +30 Speed, -10 Vitality, +5% stats to the wearer of Ring of Broken Vows when in range.

Ring of Broken Vows: This is also one of those items.

Stats: +30 power, +30 speed, -10 vitality, +5% stats to the wearer of Ring of the Unkept Promise when in range.

Ring of Power: It’s too bad an item with the name like Ring of Power isn’t better than it is.

Stats: +10 Power, +10 Speed, +10 Vitality.

Sapphire Spell Staff: Pretty when new, pretty when blue. With an intricate blue sapphire beautifully adorning a dark wooden staff, this is just as much a decorative accessory as it is a weapon.

Stats: +15 Spirit, +10 Concentration.

Staff of the Ice Queen: The Ice Queen wasn’t just about blue gems, she was also about blue staves.

Stats: +65 Spirit, +60 Concentration, + 20 Vitality.

Restriction: Frost Mage only.

Sunny’s Son: A sunny disposition can burn away the blues. This belt helps prevent a bad day once per minute. Unfortunately for the one who first wore it, a bad day can strike multiple times a second.

Stats: Stops one attack from successfully landing once every minute.

Training Spoons: Because sometimes training is necessary before spooning, or else you’ll wind up without feeling in your arm, a mouth full of hair and an angry spouse.

Stats: 0 damage, +10 to judgmental looks.

Winter’s Ethic: The youth of most countries can escape winter, ignoring the chilling winds that blow across their well-warmed domiciles. But, like clockwork, winter returns every year until, eventually, the youth has become an old man, and the once strong vitality of the early years has faded into a struggling decrepit body, that is promptly claimed by the ever patient winter. After all, even the smallest wave can wear down the rock with enough time.

Stats: 1 Damage, Damage doubles against a target with every successful hit landed against the target. Effect is reset when target is switched.

Places/Things/Companies/Et Cetera:

G.O.R.N.: Gamer’s Official Review Network.

Darwin’s Cheat Book:

Blood Blade: Blood Blade is a Job Class that specializes in harnessing their life force and channeling it into offensive combat skills. A Blood Blade is given skills that sacrifice the user’s Health in order to deal single target or AoE Damage. The Blood Blade is also given the ability to harness and use blood as a weapon during combat.

Broken hearts make for smaller bites.: (Passive) It’s not always good looks that leave a heart broken in two. Sometimes it’s just a well-placed blade--which is perfect because the heart is much easier to chew in small pieces. Each kill of the opposite gender heals user for 25% of max health.

Cheap Dining and Quick Eats: (Passive) Consuming the flesh or blood of players during combat will restore 25% of missing health and boost damage by 5% (fades after 300 seconds out of combat, damage bonus does not stack).

Demonic Command: May recruit fatally wounded monster NPCs (may only recruit monsters of or below the user’s level. The number that can be recruited is dependent on the Rank of the user).

Dread Commander: Soul Knight faction leader bonus skill tree.

Hunger: (Passive) Hunger causes the Soul Fiend to lose 1 soul charge for every five minutes he is out of combat. If the Soul Fiend has no soul charges to be consumed, then the Soul Fiend will begin to lose hit points at a rate of 1% every hour. Magic, items and natural health regeneration can not restore hit points lost as a direct result of Hunger. Consumption of a soul charge will restore all hit points lost from Hunger. Fatal Damage received by Hunger will not trigger the activation of Soul Devourer.

Ketchup is a vegetable!: (Passive) Heal 1% life every 3 seconds blood splatter is on you during combat. If you can’t find the right nutrition for your meal, just pretend like ketchup is a vegetable. My school did.

Knock off the horns, brush off the hair, and run it through the kitchen!: (Passive) +10% to flat elemental resistance. +10% additional resistance to fire magic. Extra crispy is only good for chicken fingers, not a good slab of beef. Make sure to always order your steaks rare or don’t even bother.

Soul Collector: (Passive) Allows the user to hold up to 50 soul charges.

Once upgraded, this skill allows the user to carry (Level + 10) souls.

Soul Devourer: Temporarily consume all soul charges to fully restore hit points. Grants user +50% all stats for (number of souls * 5) seconds. This skill will automatically activate upon receiving a fatal blow. May only be used once per hour. Soul Devourer is the upgraded version of Soul Eater.

Soul Eater: Temporarily consume all soul charges (a minimum of 30 soul charges required) to fully restore hit points. Grants user +25% all stats for 180 seconds. May only be used once per hour.

Soul Fiend: Soul Fiend is a Job Class that feeds off the essence of souls harvested during battle. They are granted special skills and passive abilities that buff and enhance them during combat. The more enemies that are killed by a Soul Fiend during battle, the stronger the Soul Fiend will become. A Soul Fiend also receives a boost to the skills Soul Eater and Soul Collector.

Soul Forge: May use soul charges to level NPCs (requires number of new level in soul charges; for example: To level an NPC from 29 to 30 it will require 30 soul charges). Requires physical contact or altar contact to use.

Soul Sever: (Passive) Killing enemies grants one charge. Killing enemy players grants ten charges. If an enemy player is killed, the enemy player will lose one level.

Spirit Siphoner: Spirit Siphoner is a Job Class that specializes in stealing and manipulating the enemy’s spirit. This can take the form of draining an enemy’s life or even converting an enemy before a fatal blow has been dealt. A Spirit Siphoner also receives a boost to the skills Soul Sever and Soul Collector.

Soul Knight: Darwin’s 2nd-tier Base Class. Though the name is misleading, this particular class has nothing to do with dance specialists or southern cooking.

The Five Second Rule!: (Passive) After killing an enemy, restore 50% of all damage the enemy inflicted in the five seconds prior to his death.

With a Cherry on Top: Ever had an ice cream sundae without the cherry on top? Nope? Then why start now? Each kill yields one additional soul charge and a 1% damage bonus (fades after 300 seconds out of combat).

Gaming Terms:

Aggro: The proclivity of a monster or NPC to attack a player or another creature.  Often used within the phrase ‘draw aggro,’ which basically means to get a monster’s attention or force it to attack a certain target.

AOE: Area of Effect. This term refers to skills that affect multiple targets simultaneously, whether friendly or not. Typically, the particular skill being used determines the range of affected targets.

Buff: To increase or augment the abilities of another player or character in a game. When someone “buffs” another person, they’re making them better at their job.

Drive: (as in VR drive) The device used to access a virtual reality world.

EXP: Experience. Gained from killing monsters, completing quests and assisting other players. Necessary for increasing one’s level within the game.

LOS: Line of sight.  You can’t attack what you can’t see.

Nerf: A dreaded term for many avid gamers, this is the word used to describe when a game manufacturer makes a class less potent in its field.

NPC: Non-Playable Character. Characters within games that are controlled by the computer (artificial intelligence).

PK (RPK): This term can be used interchangeably as either a noun or a verb. Thanks, 1337 sp34k. As a noun, it refers to a player killer, someone who participates in actively killing other players. As a verb, it means ‘to have been killed by another player.’

RPG: Role Playing Game.  Often used as MMORPG.

VR: Virtual Reality.

MMO: Massive Multiplayer Online (game).

Boss Book:

Burriza: There is nothing more vicious and ruthless than a Polar Bear in its natural habitat, a good reason many similarly-natured companies try to associate with them. Burriza is the one exception, for while he is a powerful opponent, he prefers it be in poker and not combat. Burriza is one of the few bosses that will not tolerate sycophants, but mainly just because they make great liars and subsequently better poker players.

Strengths: Straight flush, deuces, accounting, drinking cola.

Weaknesses: Global warming.

Dark Hydra: No-one can ever be certain how many heads a Hydra starts with, but they can be sure of how many are left when the Hydra eats them. In this case, the last victim of the Dark Hydra tried to fight off seven heads that independently chomped, bit and breathed their way to victory. Poor soul.

Strengths: Immunity to doctor bills.

Weaknesses: Grocery bills, dentist bills.

Rabbistro: ‘Well-mannered,’ ‘well-dressed’ and ‘well-tempered’ are three compliments Rabbistro likes to earn. But never should someone ask for rabbit stew or insult his suit, for if they do, the eight-foot rabbit will literally grow with rage and devour his offender.

Strengths: Cooking.

Weaknesses: Lucky feet, tardiness, disappearing cats.

Nap Dragon: Few dragons ever grow as big as the Nap Dragon. It’s not that they can’t reach that size; it’s that they often die before they do. Never wasting time with loot, sacking villages, or chasing down and kidnapping brides, the Nap Dragon rarely, if ever, draws any attention to itself. Year after year, snacking away on the Blue-Drakes in his own little dungeon, the Nap Dragon is free from any competition or natural predator--except the sandman, of course. Sometimes, especially for dragons, it just pays to be lazy.

Strengths: Incredibly strong, fast and smart.

Weaknesses: Always tired, grew too fat to leave its cave, can’t find the right-sized pillow.

Snownicorns: These differently colored unicorn frozen unicorns often perfectly embody the nature of their respective snow cones. Unfortunately, their naming sense wasn’t any better.

- Sunny (Yellow), Blizzy (Blue), Burny (Red)

Strengths: Same as their Snow cone colors.

Weaknesses: Poops get frozen halfway out the hole.