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Video Game War

From a marketing point of view, you don't introduce new products in August.

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Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT

The Snowflakes are Melting

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The argument: We existed at some point, you know. Ugh. Why does this game have so much reading?

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LadMan hadn't decorated his chambers for a long stay. Still, his base-building sensibilities got the best of him and he did what he could to make things comfy. He lived in a suite in the palace's lower section. Two large rooms and a personal washroom with all the modern amenities: heat, electricity, plumbing, even an elementary AC achieved by pumping cold air through pipes. In addition, he had his own washroom. He had no intention of bathing in the hall bath with the rest of the boys. Didn't care to see Erectio's budding body every morning.

Lad had set up a reception area with a sofa and several chairs, all facing a large, wooden radio always tuned to (as he dubbed it) the NPC News Network, a Brandonville news station covering local and international stories. He got every major Brandonville newspaper delivered, the past issues of which (too paranoid to throw away) he stacked in a corner. In the other room: his bed (a luxury queen), a large desk, and a chaise lounge. When he wasn't upstairs in endless meetings he lounged on his lounge, reading and replying to the hundreds of messages he got every day.

On this lounge, one random day, Lad caught a whiff of something big brewing. He'd just received courier-word, courtesy of Rufus and Jil, of the disaster in the dungeons. Six casualties, with three confirmed KIA and another presumed. Bobby had taken a good shellacking, and Cycler was in critical condition, though Rufus assured Lad the medics would save him. And not counted in the casualty report was the psychological toll. Morale was plummeting. Kitty was beside herself with self-blame and shame. Deus too. Di was sick with worry, taken to sitting all hours at his brother's side. Beb and Charles were at odds. Hector and Andy's deaths had crushed the Crusaders.

LadMan knew there would be casualties. It couldn't be helped. But he felt the pangs of his subordinates' demise despite it. This was just like he felt when he learned of Ted and company's disappearance (despite disagreements, they were still Sad Lads), Vac's distress, and x86's defection and subsequent disappearance. Rufus' report related in detail the ambush and the subsequent chicken chase for Hector's corpse that cost three lives. Among the bleak accounts, Lad looked for hope. He found deposits, hidden away. The great efforts to calm Andy and get Hector's body. The courage some of the kids displayed. Deus had, according to Rufus, handled the affair with care and compassion. Things could have been a lot worse.

LadMan scratched his neck. His purple hair, tied into a ponytail, now fell almost to the small of his back, but still he refused to cut it. Was he waiting for a devious Delilah to come along and trick him out of his power? Then, hairless and pre-pupertified, he'd burst in on the capital D dickweeds and, cross-posed like Christ or antiChrist, bury everyone in rubble. What good would that do? All Samson accomplished was damning his enemies' name, synonymizing them with anti-intellectualism and less than cultivated taste. Samson had God but not anime and because of it he bitched blindly in his cell/closet, spewed all sorts of anti-Delilah diatribery, then died. What a fucking Philistine.

Somebody was knocking at LadMan's door. For a sec it sounded like Dan. Dan, bursting through the door in his forceful old way and greeting LadMan with his signature, "hey, nig?" Lad would groan for appearance's sake, remind Dan to censor his racism around Bobby, then ask his friend where his mind lay this particular day. Dan would rant or rave, disposition depending, about the news of the moment. Paid mods, DLC out of control, micro-transactions, loot boxes, RNG, P2W BS, FPS drops, unfair mechanics, stupid nerfs…

What was Dan doing now?

–Come in, LadMan said sadly. Phatphuck, tired, entered.

Early on Phat wore a fine suit and a bowler hat. Now he barely managed to don a brown robe. His monkery matched his simple, straight shooting attitude, but Lad knew nothing of the Lad was being actualized. In Lukia Phat didn't go wild, attire-wise, clashing colors or purposefully ridiculousing himself, but he didn't dress down, didn't enrobe in only bare brown necessities. Too much ideology, LadMan thought fleetingly. Of course, he hadn't cut his hair even though it made his neck itch.

Phatphuck's spiky, purple Wisteria scale-hair had also gotten out of hand. Once reasonably lengthed, it now fell all over his face and eyes. For the same reason Lad let his do down? Prolly not. With an unaware hand Phat brushed hair from his face every few minutes.

–Something's going on, he said, entering LadMan's bedroom and plopping on the bed.

–Isn't something always going on? LadMan asked.

–With Gui.

Lad perked. He closed his menu and listened.

–He's acting… odd, to put it lightly, said Phat, ever the wordsmith.

Knowing Phat wasn't gonna capture the affair's essence, Lad instructed him to give over all the details so that he, Lad, could figure out the situation himself.

---

Poor Gui. The boy was in a real bind. He tried to remember how he'd gotten into this predicament. Seemed to have just happened.

The obese, obtuse, low ranked FLEEK fella spawned as a Meria after, in Lukia's dying days, he overheard Striker tell Dingo Dave that (after Deadeye released a Meria-featuring Fanget promo-vid) he intended to main a Meria in the upcoming game.

–I want to fly, Gui recalled Striker saying. Who doesn't dream of flight? Real flight, full-dive flight. I used to try and lucid dream myself flying but never could get it to work.

Gui was terrified of heights, but he sucked it up to be close to Striker. So when the patch hit, Gui was in a unique position. Many of Striker's trusted confidants were MIA, spread over the world, in other cities, occupying the bodies of other creatures, soil-stuck, without auxiliary apparati, or bumbling around deep in the dark sea. Simply by being there Gui felt important. Gradually, as Striker stabilized the situation in Merse, Gui seemed to grow on him. The boy that, in Lukia, had been an at-best brushed off bitty body became (as Gui saw it) an important part of the FLEEK faction. Then, about a month and a half into the game, Gui got ganked.

So much info was shrouded. Gui couldn't imagine anybody knew everything that was going on. But something was going on. Some non-Meria FLEEK fellas had traveled to Merse; pre-teleporter this was a dangerous, several-day journey. But Striker started pushing them from the fold. Sending them on bizzare, busy-work missions or exiling them to far-off places to serve as "observers." Some of these people he'd known for years, and trusted wholly. But now he'd clamped up. Then, Striker called Gui into the temple's top room, overlooking the groomed courtyard below, and much of Merse beyond that: the scattered, slapdash city construction stuck into the mountain like nails thrown en masse at a soft wood wall, most falling but a few sticking and staying. Gui hadn't realized how shoddy the city looked. Striker looked straight at Gui and gave him the story.

–We found a library, he said. At the base of the mountains, well hidden in a forest. A small guild calling themselves the Loreseters were the first to find it. They told me about it. They thought it might tell us more about the Challenge.

–Did it? asked Gui, his heart hopping, hoping.

–Yes, said Striker. We're almost sure it did.

–Then-

–Because, Striker said sharply, I told them not to. Here's the short version: when they first told me about the library I told them to keep quiet about it. Read every book they could, take notes, but don't spread the word about the library itself. At first they protested, but I gave them a whole story about keeping things organized, stopping players from stealing all the books, blah blah. That kind of thing was on my mind, but it wasn't the real reason I wanted to keep the library on the down low. From the start I doubted that the Challenge is… strictly PvE.

Gui's mind glitched.

–I wasn't sure, Striker continued, that whatever the Loresters found in the library would be information we'd want all the players to know. I was one hundred percent correct. Thank whatever you pray to I was too. As of now, only the Loresters, myself, Dingo, Jup, Squib, and his two buds know about this library. And… I suppose… you.

–Wh- why me? asked Gui, too freaked out to be honored.

–Because I need you to do something, said Striker. As I said, we know the way out of the game. The evidence is overwhelming. I need-

–How? said Gui, his voice small. How do you get out?

Striker sighed.

–Last species standing gets out, said Striker. Not sure if its just survivors… we're trying to figure out.

–Wh- what?

–For us Meria to escape, said Striker, we have to kill all the humans, all the Wisteria, all the Dwarvia, and all the Frostia. We aren't sure if that includes NPCs, but we're sure it includes players.

Gui crashed completely.

–What happens when you die? he managed to ask.

–Still don't know, said Striker.

While Gui sat dumb, practically drooling, Striker explained his assignment. Gui could hardly hear him. Too bombarded by cranium shattering insanity. In the back of his mind, Gui noticed that Striker had deviated from the boss-guy script. Normally, someone in Striker's position, before giving out classified info, would say, "this task is dangerous and sensitive, so I need to know that you're up for it before I give you details." Then Gui, unsure but digging up some courage from deep down, could heroically commit. But Striker skipped all that shit. He sat Gui down and hit him with the deets. Was Gui even a factor? Did Striker just assume Gui would accept the assignment and thus he didn't bother considering the possibility that Gui could decline? How assured can one man be? If you see your will as analogous to natural law defiance ceases to seem an option.

–You've heard of the Sad Lads, right? Striker was saying. Gui tried to tune in and listen.

–They were a big guild in Lukia, Striker said. Led by a guy named Absolute LadMan. They've established some order in Brandonville.

Gui nodded. Of course he knew the Lads and their recent exploits.

–You're going to be my ambassador, said Striker. You're going to travel to Brandonville and set up shop. Now… listen, this is important-

Gui blinked rapidly.

–You're there, ostensibly, as an envoy to facilitate communication between us and them, but really I'm sending you there as a spy.

–Didn't you send Quixotisha to Brandonville to do this job? asked Gui.

–No, Tisha was sent as a straight diplomat, said Striker. Sent before I knew what I know now. She's not a Meria, so I can't tell her about our recent discoveries. I need a Meria in Brandonville to make sure the Sad Lads don't find out about the Challenge's solution. You understand why this is necessary, right?

Gui got it on a rational level. He took out a handkerchief he kept in his breast pocket and patted his forehead. Do real birds sweat? he wondered.

–Tisha and I have been communicating by telegram, said Striker. It's the best way when you're out of someone's messaging range. It's not possible from every town but from Merse to Brandonville it's no problem. I'll get you the information about how that works. The Sad Lads aren't stupid, so this assignment is important. Stay on your guard. As for Tisha, I'll make up some nonsense reason to give her another assignment. Don't say anything to her if she asks her about it. She's always been nosy… hopefully I can get her gone. You don't have any friends- er… non-Meria friends in the guild, right?

–I guess not…

–Good, then you have no reason to tell anybody else about all this. I need complete secrecy, yes? Speak to nobody except for me. Not even Dingo or Jup. And when you're talking to the Sad Lads, be extremely careful not to tip them off. Play everything very safe.

–What if they find out? asked Gui.

–They won't, said Striker, as if that resolved the issue.

And despite his best-braining, Gui believed him.

---

Gui got driven in an NPC taxi from his quaint apartment to the Sad Lad's palace. He wore his best suit and a tall top hat in an attempt to project confidence. His profuse sweating and his jittery hands wiping his brow twice a minute diminished the effect slightly.

Gui didn't interact with the Lads frequently. Things had been moving smoothly. Striker's quick thinking resolved the crisis born at the meeting. The Lads were, as far as Gui could tell, fully convinced by Striker's book, and so Gui contented himself to keep a distance, help the Lads clear dungeons when requested, but otherwise gallivant around town in uncharacteristic fashion, living the early-20th century diplomat's life, eating fine foods and banging bad broads, things poor, anxious Gui never did IRL.

The palace guards waved him through. He took quick, small steps, as if afraid to fully extend his legs lest he trip. He saw, exiting the palace as he entered, Womansrights, looking curiously at him, no doubt wondering where such a sweating mess was headed so early in the morning.

An encoded telegram, via secure channels. The banging of the express courier had woken him up. He found his code key (half open in a corner) and decrypted the message to find an eldritch horror of curt prose posed before him.

Jamal missing. Library security compromised. Sending reinforcements to you. Find out Sad Lads' knowledge of Challenge immediately. Use extreme caution. Keep in touch.

Gui deliberated for a bit, but soon figured that demanding a meeting with the Sad Lads at 6 in the morning would raise suspicions. In case they know nothing, he shouldn't act out of the ordinary.

He sat for a while, during which time he received several additional telegrams somewhat elaborating things. To Gui's horror, the second telegram mentioned that this catastrophe was several days old. Striker blamed a combination of incompetence (on somebody else's part, not on his), logistical difficulties, and technical problems for the delay. Gui gathered that a group (of Lads? Striker suspected Dan_the_Dan, Lad's "bitch boy") had been poking around and figured something out. Striker suspected that they'd been the ones to snatch Jamal. And Jamal had suspiciously scrubbed his friend's list. Nobody in FLEEK still had him friended, and he was well outside the friending range.

With a frustratingly fragmented picture of what even Striker knew, Gui was ordered to get to work, head into the Lad's den and pull off spy shit beyond Bond. Gui couldn't help but feel that Striker, perhaps for the first time in his life, was truly taken off guard, and was reacting ineptly because of it. There had to have been a better way to have gone about all this? Funnily, Gui wasn't even privy to the true extent of the Merse shenanigans. The trials and tribulations at the Merse teleporter, the political maneuvers in the city, and, perhaps the coup de grace, when Striker, doubting the competence of his paid-off telegram office operators, straight up cut the lines. He'd just gotten around to fixing them.

Around 8:30, unable to wait any longer, Gui messaged Erectio and scheduled a meeting with LadMan for a few hours later. Had he kept scrolling down his friend menu, past E, F, G, H, and I, all the way to J, he'd see his friends list now lacked Jamal. The poor boy had been forced, literally at gunpoint, to unfriend everyone. But had Gui tried to friend Jamal, he would've found that he could. Jamal wouldn't accept it (he was currently unable) but the fact that Gui could send a request meant one thing.

---

–Gui, good to see you, said LadMan, motioning for him to sit.

Gui did so. He noticed annoyance in Lad's voice and demeanor. Was this it? The end?

–I hope you weren't too busy, said Gui, his voice cracking.

–No, no, said Lad. I mean, I am, but I always have time for FLEEK. What do you- actually, first, I should offer you some food. Are you hungry?

A meaningless question. The game didn't simulate hunger. Was Lad trying to trip him up? Trick him into saying, "yes, I'm starving," and therefore betray his confused, panicked mind? Or, rather, was LadMan distracting him with pleasantries so he'd be off-guard when he hit him with the real attack? No, LadMan always acted this way in meetings. Always offered food and drink. "Are you hungry?" is an ingrained phrase left over from RL. Gui knew his mind was running out of control. He had to ctrl+shift+escape and kill the unnecessary processes.

–I- I wouldn't mind something to eat, Gui finally said.

–Sure, Erectio, could you-

No! Gui realized that he'd fallen for LadMan's trap. If the Lads knew about Striker's library shenanigans then didn't it also stand to reason that they knew about Striker poisoning the Merse-mayor's daughter? Did they know about Apathia, the poison itself!? Know how to make it!?

Erectio would slip it into Gui's drink. Then, once consumed, Lad would reveal this to Gui, laughing maniacally as he did so. The Lads could withhold the daily-demanded antidote unless Gui told them everything they wanted to know. They'd get complete control over him. Did dying in the game mean dying IRL? Were they gonna blackmail him with his life?

–Never mind! Gui shouted. I don't want anything to eat or drink.

LadMan faltered. Gui observed him intensely, trying to pick out the disappointment that accompanies a failed plot. He only found surprise… surprise at Gui's sudden heel-turn.

–Phat was right, he is acting weird, LadMan mumbled. But audibly, he said,

–Never mind, Erectio, no snacks.

Gui sank deeper into his chair. Minutes in, already exhausted. How did the pre-War statesmen deal with things like this? Cambon, Berchtold, Grey, Hotzendorf, Sazonov, Poincare, Viviani, Tisza, Bethmann Hollweg, Jagow, etc. and etc. Diplomatic immunity, for one. Also, they didn't.

Gui knew he couldn't do this. He had to find out what LadMan knew without letting it slip that he suspected LadMan of knowing anything he shouldn't. Striker hadn't given him an alibi; he had no reason to meet with Lad. He'd have to make something up, something related to but not too near the subject, and gather intel based on LadMan's reactions to these sorta-related questions. Geez.

Gui also knew that LadMan, if he had ordered Jamal's abduction (or knew who did), would have every reason to grab himself a Gui then and there. Actually, nothing was stopping LadMan from forcing whatever he wanted, poison or otherwise, down Gui's gullet via the force of five or six guys. So why try the food and drink trick? Then, tangential but tantamount, it hit Gui how much this situation benefited Striker. Either way, Striker would get his info. Gui could discern what LadMan knew, then dutifully report it to Striker. But LadMan taking Gui would also tell Striker that LadMan knew something. LadMan would have no reason to take Gui unless he knew something. Gui was a sacrifice, a fucking sacrifice. Goddamn bait.

He had to get out of there. Not only away from LadMan, but from Striker and his crew too. But as his mind cooled from this scalding revelation he considered objections. It was unlikely that LadMan would do something so overt as to detain him. The only way Striker would remain unaware of what LadMan knew was if LadMan made no major moves towards Gui and gave nothing away either. Surely that's what he meant to do? That could be why LadMan tried the food and drink trick. He meant to turn Gui into a sort of double agent, passing along info in exchange for the antidote while keeping Striker ignorant of the fact that they knew anything at all.

So… he'd dodged that. Striker had to have considered all this, down to knowing Gui could dodge Lad's trick. Striker wasn't offering him as bait at all. Besides, he was sending reinforcements, two reliable bodyguard types to keep Gui safe. Striker wouldn't bother guarding bait. Gui emerged from his pondering with renewed gumption.

–So… what was it you needed? LadMan asked, possibly for the second time.

–Oh, sorry, I have a lot on my mind, said Gui.

–Yeah, of course, said LadMan.

Then, a twitch. Minor, a flicker of movement near Lad's left eye. Irked, trying to ignore something.

–Is… is something wrong? Gui asked.

–No… sorry, someone is spamming me with messages, said LadMan. It's not a huge deal.

–Could just block him, said Ty, seemingly not for the first time.

LadMan didn't listen.

–Anyway, what did you need? he asked.

–I wanted to talk to you about… the dungeon clearing, said Gui.

LadMan tensed.

–Is it about Hector and them? he asked. I understand if Striker is concerned, but-

–No, not about that, said Gui quickly. He sensed that LadMan was hurt, felt his competency under question. Gui got that.

–It's… something else, Gui said. He had an idea, earlier that morning, but it was risky. All good liars know that, when fibbing, you should keep the fib as close to the truth as possible. The more Gui lied to Lad, the easier the lie became to detect. Gui swallowed hard. He was running out of options. He had to tell LadMan something.

–What else? asked LadMan.

Gui eyed Ty, in the corner, clutching his carbine.

–We… ugh… found something else.

He strained to study LadMan. Something… anything. What was in that expression? Lad reacted with appropriate surprise and interest. Anything else? Anger? Shock? Suspicion?

–What else? asked LadMan, visibly annoyed. Tired of Gui's games. Be honest and get it out. Gui's task was significantly hampered by his long-held habit of straight speaking. He hoped his vagueness would spur LadMan to offer up gap fillers, thereby revealing the extent of his knowledge. But this vagueness was so unlike him that all it did was confuse LadMan.

–What do you think we found? asked Gui, flinching as the question left his lips.

–I don't freaking know, Gui, just tell me, said LadMan.

The Lad shot up.

–Jesus Christ, what is that moron's problem?!

Inaudible to everyone else, LadMan had endured a near-constant stream of message beeps all morning.

–Just block him, Lad, this is absurd, said Ty.

–Fine, I'm going to, said LadMan. This is ridiculous. Can't that idiot take a hint? I told him that if he doesn't screw off with his stupid theories I'm not going to talk to him.

–You shouldn't, said Ty. He's acting toxic.

–What- what is going on, exactly? asked Gui.

–It's Dan, said LadMan, exiting his menu after the block. He just won't stop going on and on about Striker. Striker is suspicious, he's hiding something, yadda yadda. He went off with two other idiots to try and… I don't know, gather clues in Merse. Now he's coming back here, I guess. I told him all he has to do is apologize and it'll be fine, but… agh… he's still on this stupid crusade.

Gui felt cold. He stared straight ahead. Time seemed to slow.

–Back- back here? he stammered. He's here now?

–Getting here soon, said LadMan. But I'm not going to see him until he messages me an apology.

LadMan realized he'd just blocked Dan.

–Until he handwrites me an apology, he said.

Gui just wanted to go. He started to rise. He was in such a trance. Could hardly see.

Then, a knock.

Slick came in, followed by Erectio.

–Talk about Chancellorsburg budgets, said Slick.

Gui blinked.

–Gui is here, hey, she said.

Erectio was smiling. Gui blinked again. He tried to force-clear his mind. Defrag reality. Couldn't die here. Had to get out. If he thought fast he could make it. He refocused.

–Two Meria are outside, Erectio was saying. Looking for Gui.

Gui couldn't center himself. He felt drunk, swaying through time and space. No, damn it, fight to stay straight. He stumbled into the hallway. Slick said something. He looked out the window. A rented landaus parked. He saw Woman returning, carrying a bag of something. The NPC guards chatted.

His reinforcements were here? But what good could they do? Die with him? He had to-

–I have to go, he mumbled, starting down the hallway.

The Lads had come out after him and stood staring.

–What are you doing, Gui? Erectio asked. Yo, Lad, is this dude okay?

–Should we grab him? asked Slick. He's acting crazy.

No! Gui, you have to calm down. You're not dead yet. Chill. You've got reinforcements coming. Talk your way out of the palace then you're home free.

–Fine, I'm fine, he said suddenly. I'm just going to greet the Meria. They're here to… bring me some documents I wanted to show you.

–Okay, said LadMan.

Shout975 and MistyRogers stood at the far end of the hallway, out of Lad's hearing but still within his sight. Gui embraced them warmly. They both looked a little shocked.

–Gui… are you okay? asked Shout. I didn't think you were a hugger.

–Say you forgot them, Gui hissed.

He glanced over his shoulder. Had the Lads heard? They still stared, some amused, some concerned. None seemed itching to out him. Nobody was shooting to grab him.

–You forgot them, Gui hissed again. Then, much louder,

–Hey, did you two remember to bring the documents! I- I know everything has been pretty hectic.

–What are you talking about? Misty said. Striker sent us here to guard you against racist human NPCs.

–Yes… God… they've been such an issue, Gui said.

He turned and led the pair towards the Lads.

–Sorry, LadMan, he said as he walked. They didn't get the message about the documents at all. You know, the three of us should probably go and get them. It'll only take a second, I bet.

–What's this about racist NPCs? asked Slick. Are NPCs giving you trouble, Gui?

–No… I mean… only a few. You know Striker, always overreacting when it comes to… my safety. Sent two people just because I had one bad run in with an NPC. But, hey, you can't fault that kind of caring.

He laughed. The Lads stared.

–Okay… you know…

–What are these documents? asked LadMan. I mean, what are they actually about?

A sweating wreck, flanked by the FLEEK ladies. Gui felt the world crashing down around him. The sky itself broke and falling, glass shards from a big, broken window smashing into the ground. Only a matter of time before a shard hit him and skewered him. He'd lay, half alive, on the cold ground, looking up at the world's ruined ceiling.

Glass ceiling? Shattered? No, that's not what Gui meant. What were these ladies really here for? Reinforcements? What did that mean? There to protect Gui against the Lads? They themselves didn't know it was the Lads they were fighting. Striker told em some bullshit bout racist NPCs.

–Gui?

Gui looked up.

Striker isn't happy with us. We made a stink about Skquib raping that girl. We figured that once he learned about it he'd do something, but he just sat around doing fuck all. We couldn't just stand by while Skquib went unpunished. NPCs, fine… I mean, it's fucked up, but fine. But Skquib raped a player, a fucking person. We had to do something. Obviously. It blows my mind that this sentiment wasn't widely shared. We had to basically annoy Striker until he locked Skquib up. To be honest, he's probably already let Skquib out. We kinda think he sent us here to get us off his back.

Gui got it all. He sweated and fretted. Ty, carbine in hand. Erectio, in his tight getup, basically a leotard, with his jetpack. LadMan, looking confused. In the lowlight… the Lads had all the power.

Misty and Shout glanced at each other. Gui was dissolving before their eyes into a mush-man, no bones or muscles, just a skin-colored goo, paradoxically only stupid surface but absent all bloat.

–Gui? Gui?

Who was saying his name? Everyone at once.

–What are the documents about? LadMan asked again.

–All our fault, said Shout. I totally remember something about that, but, to be honest, we completely forgot to check back in with Striker before we left. God, I bet he's gonna be pissed.

Extra oomph into her speech. Not how Shout normally spoke. She was smart, assured. But by trying to sound like a braindead bimbo she directed the Lads' attention towards her. Could her double-x idiocracy be responsible for all this confusion? Shout's continued airheaded expressions seemed to drive the diversion home. Gui looked at her with unfettered admiration in his eyes. Was she going to save him?

–LadMan, said Erectio, in his menu.

–What?

–I got a message from Dan.

The hall went silent. A dominant silence, the sort that ain't only absent noise, but hostile to it. Venus to Gaian fauna. When the feeling finally faded LadMan said,

–He's messaging you too? Just ignore him. Honestly, I'm sick-

–He wants a meeting, Erectio blurted out.

–What part of "ignore him" includes reading and relaying the message? asked Woman.

Wait? When did Woman get here? A minute ago? An hour ago? An eternity ago?

–Yeah, I know he wants a meeting, LadMan said. He told me about a thousand times. Just ignore him, I'm sick-

–Should I… order the guards to stop him? asked Erectio.

–He's here now?

–He says he's coming up. He's asking what floor we're on.

–Well don't tell him, said Slick.

–Dear Slick, said Woman, he'll figure it out, we only use so many of these floors.

Gui felt his eyes burning in his skull. The palace hallway, lined on one side with wide, yellow tinted windows. The pre-noon Sun cast pitiful, tiny shadows. Potted plants… dotted? What? The floor was clean but cold, devoid of personality, devoid of reason. Hardly real clean.

–Knowing him, he'll shoot at anyone we order to stop him, said Slick.

–Gui, you good? asked Erectio. You look like you gonna spew.

Gui stared down the hallway as Dan, Lunar, and Clean rounded the corner, followed by an NPC guard unsure of what to do. They wore combat gear, carried weapons, and led in front of them a terrified, handcuffed, gagged Meria dressed hastily in peasant robes a half-step up from the starter garb. Above his head his username: Jamal88.

Yellow tinted, pre-noon hallway light. Gui felt trapped in amber, suspended in a neutral pose, the sort of specimen future fuckers would stare at with limited interest. Here is Gui, who stood stuck in life and stands stuck now.

Dan, when he saw Gui, smiled massively, barring all his teeth. He was sticking something into Jamal's back. Lunar and Clean were more composed, bearing a subdued anger and remorse. All three looked tired.

Gui was beat. He knew it. He'd always known it. This is how the pre-war diplomats felt, vacating their embassies and rolling home? No, Gui wouldn't make it home. He had no home. He existed solely to get beat at this moment in time. A tool, used terribly. No more than a bit of bloat, really. Once he deflated he'd cease to exist. Deep, deep within himself, perhaps the only real bit ever extant, he heard a voice. Young, high pitched, but also old and tired; Gui imagined it as the first human voice that ever spoke, maybe the first sound life ever made, squealing out moments post-abiogenesis. Run, you dumbass!

Gui pushed Ty to the ground. The Lad's carbine clattered. Then, Gui bolted.

---

–Stop him! shouted Dan.

The Lad pushed Jamal and sprinted after Gui. Jamal, unable to break his fall with his hands, hit the floor hard and lay still, whimpering softly. After a slight sec Lunar also broke formation and darted after Dan.

–Stay with Jamal, Dan yelled at Clean.

–I always get the boring jobs, she muttered, knowing that, strictly speaking, this wasn't true.

–Guards! shouted Ty, still on the ground in shock.

Dan shot past LadMan, Misty, Shout, all the others. Gui skidded around a corner, Dan hot on his heels. Misty tried to slow Lunar as he passed, but he knocked her on her ass and kept going.

–What the fuck is going on? screamed Erectio.

Ty grabbed his carbine but wasn't sure who to shoot. Calm Clean sat on the floor-sprawled Jamal. She stuck a pistol into the boy's back but otherwise sat casually, her chin resting on her right wrist.

–My wings… muttered Jamal. You're squishing my wings.

Clean didn't budge.

Lunar disappeared around the corner. The Lads could hear him and Dan pounding after Gui. Gui's panicked shouts echoed back to them.

–Why are they chasing Gui? Erectio asked.

Shout took off after Lunar, Dan, and Gui. Misty lay dazed on the ground.

–Shout, stop! cried Slick. Damn it! Shit!

Ty couldn't decide whether he should run after Gui and the others, or stay and guard LadMan.

–Guards! he called again. He looked back to where Dan, Lunar, and Clean had come from, but the one guard who'd been following them had disappeared. Then, Erectio's coup de grace.

–Ty, stay with Lad! he shouted. I'll get Dan.

Erectio grabbed two buttons off his belt. They were attached via bronze wires to the jetpack on his back. Grinning wildly, he pressed them. He immediately lost control. He fell over. The jetpack blasted blazing steam behind him, burning Misty black. Then it sent its wearer straight through a hallway window. Erectio yelped as the glass sliced his skin. He careened like a cartoon character outside the palace.

–Damn moron, muttered Ty.

Misty, burnt all over, sitting with a quarter of her health, cried on the floor.

–What's the plan, chief? Woman asked LadMan.

But the boy wouldn't answer.

–Detain them all, said Ty, we'll sort it out later.

He pointed his carbine at Clean. Clean slowly set her pistol on the floor and slid it away. She remained seated atop the whimpering Jamal. Slick sprinted after Dan, Lunar, Gui, and Shout. Ty, despite LadMan's protests, shoved him into a closet and closed the door.

–We'll sort this out, stay there until it's safe, Ty said.

He set to tying up poor Misty.

–Woman, can you try to save Erectio?

–I can help physically, said Woman. Spiritually, I'm not sure.

Down the hall, around a few bends, Dan finally caught Gui. Gui considered diving out a window and trying to fly away when Dan lounged after him, caught his legs, and pulled him to the ground. Dan crawled up to Gui and tried to get him in a chokehold.

Lunar came into sight. He saw Dan and Gui just as Shout knocked him to the ground.

–Dan! Lunar shouted.

–Fuck, said Dan. He released his chokehold, pistol whipped Gui (chunking his health), then spun around and put a bullet at Shout's feet. She stopped dead and stared, teeth clenched, veins practically popping out of her feathery forehead. How grotesque. How much human dignity would the game rob them of? Lunar recovered and trained his pistol on her.

Then, Slick. She raised her gun as well.

–Everyone drop their weapons! she shouted. Everyone!

Lunar calculated. He and Dan could take her. But what was the point of that? He let his pistol fall to the ground and raised his hands.

Dan held tightly to his.

–Dan, drop it or I'll shoot you! shouted Slick. You know I'd love a good reason to.

–Fucking dyke, muttered Dan, tossing his pistol down the hallway.

---

LadMan emerged angrily from the closet. He had all the involved parties: Clean, Lunar, Dan, Gui, Jamal, Shout, and Misty, healed and locked in separate rooms. He assigned three NPC guards to each, plus a player. Two NPCs outside, one inside. The player inside, armed and ordered to shoot at the first sign of shenanigans.

He got a message with some good news. Woman found Erectio stuck, jetpack busted, in the upper branches of a palace-garden tree.

–You know, Erectio, when I told you to branch out, this isn't what I meant.

–Get me out of this fucking tree, Woman, cried Erectio.

Ty insisted that LadMan wait in the meeting room while he personally checked each prisoner.

–Ty, I need to talk to Lad! said Dan when Ty peeked in. Slick and a guard flanked the door, staring at Dan, who sat, arms crossed, scowling, on a settee near a window. Slick had confiscated Dan's mechanical wings to make sure he couldn't dive out of the window and fly away. The Meria prisoners, their wings non-confiscatable barring amputation, had been put in windowless rooms.

–Lad will talk to you when he's ready, said Ty, slamming the door.

He'd determined that Dan was secure. Slick, for one, wasn't about to let the boy cause further trouble. She ignored everything Dan yelled at her, standing steadfast, pistol ready. He'd caused LadMan enough pain. Let him rot.

The other prisoners reacted less violently. Clean sat stoic in the center of her room, eyes closed, like a peaceful, meditating monk, while Lunar fell atop a couch and lay still. Misty and Shout, still in shock, sat or stood with dead eyes and whirling minds, while poor Gui broke down completely, sobbing on the fine Persian rug in the center of his room. Jamal, for his part, sat in a comfortable chair and said nothing.

LadMan ordered Ty to message Pfo and Chumpchange, telling them to come to the palace. Then, despite everyone's hopes to the contrary, he made straight for Dan.

–Lad, said Dan when his leader entered the room.

LadMan raised a halting hand.

–Pfo and Chump are coming, Ty whispered into LadMan's ear. They'll be here soon.

–Good to hear, said LadMan. Then, turning back to Dan,

–I'm not sure I want to hear your explanation for all this nonsense.

–You do, Lad, you don't understand-

–You come barrelling into the palace, uninvited, with someone you… abducted or something… then start a firefight. Someone could have died! Heck, a couple people were close to dying!

–Why'd Gui run? Dan blurted.

–What?

–He ran when he saw us, said Dan. Why?

LadMan recalled the moment.

–Maybe because you scared him? said LadMan, his face red.

–He pushed Ty, said Dan. Why'd he push Ty?

Ty scowled. It was strange. If Gui was scared of Dan… why push him? Gui saw Dan, pushed Ty, and ran. Ty couldn't account for that reaction.

–I don't know, said LadMan. Maybe he ran because you abducted some other Meria?

–Not just any Meria, said Dan, his speech quickening.

LadMan recognized this Dan too well. A Dan worked up, revving, spitting sentences, heeded or not.

–He ran because he recognized the specific Meria, said Dan. He knows Jamal, or at least his name, and knows what that means. He's fucking terrified, but not only of me. He's scared of you, Lad, and he should be!

–What are you talking about? LadMan shouted.

–Why'd he push Ty? Dan demanded. If he was running from me, why push Ty? Answer that!

Ty thought hard.

–He panicked, said LadMan. I don't blame him, you're clearly insane!

Ty thought harder. When he'd gone to make sure Gui was secure, he found the boy begging, wailing, broken… Despite ostensibly being safe from Dan, Gui was sobbing like he'd been slated for the firing squad.

–Please… please let me go… he wailed. I'll tell you anything… please…

–We should question Gui, Ty whispered to LadMan.

–Let me do it! shouted Dan, intercepting Ty's whisper with his excellent ears. What? He'd been perceptive in every game they played. How?

–You don't know what to ask, Lad, said Dan. Please, it'll explain everything.

–Are you crazy? said LadMan. Do you think I'm going to let you go anywhere near him?

Dan opened his menu. Slick and Ty trained guns on him.

–Dan, don't! Slick shouted.

Dan froze. He looked up slowly.

–I'm your enemy now, aren't I? he asked.

Neither Slick nor Ty wavered, but LadMan looked away, unable to hold Dan's cold eyes.

–You don't trust me for shit, he said. Did you ever trust me?

–Of course I did, said LadMan, still unlooking.

–But now you don't?

Lad's answer implied this.

–You fuckers always hated me, said Dan.

–You never gave us a reason not to, said Slick.

Venom poured from her mouth, but it seemed to bounce off Dan and wash over LadMan. Lad stood there, stung, an invisible agony wrecking his body one nerve at a time. He looked like he was about to seize up, go into some kind of arrest.

–I'm getting something from my inventory, said Dan. If it's a weapon, shoot me.

He didn't give them time to consider. After several clicks a number of books/manuscripts emerged in his hands. He threw them before LadMan.

The two journals. Religious Prophecies. Religious Sites of the World. Jamal's An Official Report, several newspapers Lunar had kept, and the printer's logbook.

–What's all this?

Dan didn't answer. Instead, he said,

–We've got more, Lad. More books, plus Jamal, and now Gui. If that's not enough evidence, then maybe we deserve to have Striker kill us all. He's already moving, I bet. He knows we know. If you think he's going to talk to you now…

–What is this? I don't understand.

–Striker found a special library. Each species gets one, we just haven't found ours yet. Not that we've been looking. The libraries have the solution to the Challenge. The real solution. Striker lied to you because it would be very bad for him if you learn about the real solution. Jamal will admit to all of this.

–I don't know who this Jamal is, said Lad, tears forming in his eyes. He- you could have paid him to say… I've never seen him before…

–Let me interrogate Gui, then, said Dan, voice cold. Or, if you don't trust me, let Lunar or Clean. Give us a few minutes. I promise we won't hurt him. You can watch the whole thing. After we're finished, if you want, you can imprison me, Lunar, and Clean forever. That's what you want, right? To lock us up until you beat those fucking dungeons? God, Lad, I hope you haven't lost anybody clearing those things, because beating them isn't going to do a damn thing.

LadMan couldn't speak.

–Jesus, Lad, said Dan, I didn't think even you would let yourself get this duped.

---

Pfo and Chump arrived at the palace with Doughy. They didn't want to bring him but he insisted on coming. They found the Lads sitting anxiously in the meeting room, tired and upset.

Woman told Pfo that Lad had cancelled all appointments and locked himself in his room. Pfo and Chump demanded details from the Lads present, and Woman summarized best he could. This left them more confused than before, and they resigned themselves to sitting and waiting for Lad to emerge like the rest. Finally, an hour later, Lad came out and told the awaiting Ty,

–Set up for an interrogation.

The Lads cut a hole in a thin wall and inserted a one-way mirror to create a makeshift interrogation room. Inside they put a single chair, a table, and a lamp, just like the movies. Then they gathered in the observation room. LadMan would've let Dan do the interrogation himself, but the other Lads convinced him otherwise. Dan acquiesced to Lunar doing it rather easily. But then he insisted, somewhat belatedly, on only allowing human players to view the proceedings. LadMan almost blew up, but on this point Dan didn't budge, and finally Lad allowed it. Ty, Erectio, Woman, and Phatphuck left to wait in another wing. They were indignant, sure Dan was cooking up some bullshit and further sure LadMan allowed it because of some globule of left-over affection for the traitor.

Truthfully, Lad allowed it because he was tired. Sick of it all. If Dan was gonna try something, or show him something, or… something… just let him. LadMan wanted it all over with; the outcome was irrelevant.

Lunar took his position as a hesitant interrogator. He sensed he was up against his audience as much as his subject. Slick and Pfo flanked the door to the interrogation room, armed, expressions blank but insides baffled and boiling.

Lunar looked at the mirror and saw his uncertain reflection. He knew LadMan, Brostein, Doughy, Chump, and a restrained Dan were behind it. He assumed Clean was too, but, actually, nobody had bothered to fetch her; she still sat cross legged and quiet in her room, breathing in and out in time, she imagined, with the movements of the whole wide world itself.

Into the interrogation room came a slobbering Gui, escorted by three NPC guards. They put Gui into the lone chair and left, closing the door tightly behind them. Slick checked the lock. The room was dark and bare. The Lads had removed all trappings. Lunar placed his palms on the table and began,

–Gui, I'm not sure we've really met. Do you know who I am?

Gui, his sobbing somewhat subsided, shook his head.

–I'm Lunarkid. I'm one of the players who got the teleporters online. Just recently, I spent some time hanging around Merse. Do you know what I was doing there?

Gui knew, but he shook his head. He'd regained, since his initial detainment, a bit of spirit.

–Investigating a few things, said Lunar. Just a few odd things that didn't add up… you know how it is…

Lunar tried to channel his inner noir nerd. He imagined himself a hard-lit, hard drinking dude beset by womanly woes, trying despite his faults to crack the case. But Lunar lacked conversational initiative. He kept circling around the subject, asking questions that, to Gui, confirmed that Lunar knew almost everything but, to the Lads, meant nothing. LadMan gathered something about a mayor, his daughter, a library, Jamal, a poem, poison, a printer, a cop… but Lunar's odd line of questioning left him ignorant of how these things added up. Gui couldn't figure out what Lunar wanted him to confess, since it seemed like Lunar already knew everything. Was Lunar just flaunting his knowledge? Had this psycho dragged him into this room just to brag? Still, Gui kept up a veneer of denial, refusing to answer most of Lunar's questions. In short, a lot of confusion, and Lunar hadn't gotten Gui to actually confess to anything.

–So, if I was walking around Merse, one odd day, asked Lunar, pacing back and forth, and I happened to see two players enter a printer's shop… surely, then-

A beep. Lunar had received a message. Gui, who couldn't hear the noise, thought Lunar was building tension for his question's conclusion. But the question just hung.

–One moment, please, said Lunar. He motioned for Slick to open the door. After a moment she knocked and the door swung open. A second later and Lunar was in the observation room.

–What? he asked.

–Shhhh, said Dan. This set-up isn't soundproof.

–Sorry, whispered Lunar. But what do you want?

–You need to get to the point, said Dan.

–I'm building to it, said Lunar, offended.

–You're not making any sense, said LadMan. I'm about to pull the plug-

–No, wait, wait, said Lunar. I've got an idea. Someone get me a glass of water.

LadMan shrugged and motioned for Doughy to do so.

–Okay, said Lunar. Watch this.

Lunar re-entered the interrogation room. He set the water before Gui.

–Thought you might be thirsty, Lunar said.

–I'm not, said Gui.

–Please, you don't have to be shy, said Lunar. Have a drink.

–No thanks, I'm fine.

–I'd like to see you drink the water, said Lunar.

–I don't want it, Gui insisted.

–Why not? asked Lunar.

–Because I'm not thirsty.

–Okay, what is this? whispered LadMan.

–Hang on, said Dan.

–Gui, if I insist that you drink this water, will you? Lunar asked.

–I'm not thirsty, Gui said again.

–Let me rephrase the question, said Lunar. If I told you that you had to drink the water or Slick here would shoot you, would you drink it?

Gui glanced at Slick. Despite a slight surprise at hearing her name, she remained expressionless. She realized Gui didn't know that she was there just as much to keep Lunar from hurting him as she was to stop him from escaping.

–Why so scared of a glass of water? Lunar asked.

–You could have put something in it, Gui finally said.

–You have something specific in mind? Lunar asked. Why would I try to poison you? You're already a prisoner. If I wanted to hurt you, couldn't I just do so? Or do you know of a particular poison useful for… controlling people.

Gui couldn't do it. He'd been fighting for too long. What spirit he'd regained evaporated. Tears formed in his eyes. He started to sniffle. Then, as if in a last, instinctual bit of fight, a final flinch before death, he swatted away the glass. It shattered against a wall. Then, Gui broke down.

–Just kill me, he wailed. I don't care anymore. I just wanted to play the game. I never wanted any of this to happen. I don't care who wins the species war. Just kill me, maybe then I can leave.

–What did he say? asked LadMan.

This was the first he'd heard of a species war.

–Gui, come on, said Lunar, a little shocked his ploy had worked so well. Gui, look at me.

Gui looked up.

–I'm not going to kill you, said Lunar. In fact, I think you've been tricked.

–Wh- what do you mean?

–I don't think Striker is right.

–You mean about the species war?

The observation room was in the early stages of an uproar.

–What is he talking about a species war? demanded LadMan.

–Just listen, Lad, this is what I was trying to tell you about, Dan said sadly.

–Why can't there be multiple ways of getting out? asked Lunar. Sure, the violent one is probably the easiest. At least, it's the most obvious, but it doesn't have to be the only one. The Developers are fucking with us. Is that really so out of character?

–You really think there are other ways? Striker-

–Who cares what Striker says, said Lunar. What decent RPG only has one way to complete a quest?

Gui let his face fall on the table. There he sat, face smushed on the hard, cold wood, crying.

–Striker wasn't always like this, he said through his sobs. He used to be so cool. It's this fucking game's fault!

LadMan, in the observation room, had to sit. Dan didn't smile, as Lad thought he might. He looked sad, contemplative.

–You're right, said Lunar, despite his conviction that Striker had probably always been a dick.

–This situation is enough to make anyone go a bit batshit, he said.

–God… I just want to get out… I never even wanted to do this job, you know, I swear! I didn't want to spy on the Sad Lads. But… he convinced me… then I was in too far… you know what Striker would do if he thought I'd talk… he'd kill me like he killed Quixotisha and the others.

LadMan stopped breathing. A whole tangle of dimensions, suspended. He stared at the sobbing Meria through the glass. His brain burned.

–Shit, said Dan. I didn't realize Striker killed her.

He looked at LadMan.

–We're going to get all the players out, Lunar was saying. We don't have to fight against each other to do that. But we need to know the truth. The whole truth. Yes, I know a lot, but I need you to tell me everything. Gui, do you hear me? Everything. You can help us, Gui. And we can help you. Then… who knows? maybe you can help us talk some sense into Striker?

Lunar didn't think it would come to that. He was pretty sure Gui was gonna die. He was pretty sure it would be by their hands. Cynical Lunar didn't doubt for a sec that the Devs had made the game solely a team deathmatch, race war style. It was just the sort of shitty thing they'd do.

Gui, still lightly sobbing, told the whole story to Lunar and, by extension, LadMan and the others. That he did so proved he still mustered hope. This made him, in Lunar's eyes, a profoundly tragic figure.

---

The Whole Story

as told by GuiIsBloat

At first, Striker was only trying to organize FLEEK to keep us all safe. He was scared, but he was strong. He's always been like that. He figured out that you have to eat and managed to convince some Meria NPCs to feed the whole plaza. It was amazing to watch. He wanted to prevent a riot. He was just looking out for everyone.

Then, a few weeks later, other FLEEK members, knowing, I guess, that Striker had spawned as a Meria, started coming to Merse. They came in boats or trains… some even flew in those airships. Then Striker started sending guild members to stay in other cities as liaisons. He'd learned how to use the game's telegrams, and figured he could stay in touch with his people that way. Even then, he was trying really hard to do what was right for everyone. He sent Quixotisha here, remember?

Gui evidently forgot that Lunar had been in the Shadow Realm for all this. Lunar nodded along all the same.

Things were fine for a while. Striker was trying to keep all the players in Merse safe. He was getting FLEEK back together. Of course, Dingo Dave and Jupit spawned with him, but there were a lot of guild members that spawned as other species that he really missed. Then, everything changed. Striker got contacted by Jamal. Jamal leads the Loresters. I guess they were big in Lukia. Most of them spawned as Meria and they happened to find a library. This library is part of some big prophecy that talks about… beings from other worlds and things like that. I guess it's pretty clear that the way to leave the game is to kill all the other species.

Striker started getting rid of all the non-Meria players in Merse. Even some of his best friends… if they weren't Meria…

Gui broke down and took time to get back on track.

I swear I didn't know all this at the start. But… Striker would… send them away. Some of them he got rid of easily, and some he kept them in Merse but pushed far enough from the fold. But some of them got really suspicious. They knew something had happened. So Striker… he killed them. He'd get the NPCs to do it. Sometimes he'd send the player on a made-up mission to a faraway city, and NPCs would assassinate them. A few times he got NPCs to arrest players and send them away that way. He'd get the players far away, so that nobody would really know what happened to them when their location suddenly changed to "unknown." A few people started to catch on, but Striker would just kill them too. That's… that's what eventually happened to Tisha…

Lunar asked him how Striker could get the NPCs to do so much for him.

It's that stupid poison! Apathia. That and money. He's bribed or threatened every person in Merse, at this point.

Lunar asked Gui to elaborate on the Apathia.

I thought you already know about it?

Lunar asked Gui to elaborate regardless.

It's a poison Striker discovered. I don't know how. It's easy to make and tasteless. If you take it, it kills you within a day. The only way to survive is to take the antidote. The problem is, only the original brewer can make the antidote. Also, you can't just take the antidote once, you have to take it every day! I'm sorry, I don't really know the specifics. But I do know he gave it to the Mayor's daughter. The Mayor of Merse, I mean. Who knows who else? Striker pretty much runs Merse at this point.

Gui paused for a while.

Eventually, he sent me here to replace Quixotisha. That's when I learned about all of this. My job was (Gui looked ashamed)… to keep track of what the Sad Lads knew about all this. Striker didn't want you guys to figure it all out. Er… obviously.

I really am sorry…

Gui broke down again.

You don't understand what it's like to be around him. He's… agh… I don't know how to explain it! But I swear, I never wanted anything bad to happen to you guys!

Lunar comforted him. He asked what Striker's plans were as of now.

He's trying to organize it so that he's ready to lead the Meria to win. He's sure a war is going to break out. That's why, when the meeting happened, he panicked. He didn't want everyone to become convinced the game was a battle royale, because then all the players would start fighting and that would ruin his plans. He wants the Meria to be united, and all the others to be in chaos. During the meeting, actually, I kinda thought he was going to tell everyone about the species war. God… I didn't know what to do…

So he came up with the dungeon thing. He made a solution that would keep everyone else busy while he got ready to fight. The dungeon descriptions are as vague as possible so that they all apply to at least one place in the game. He also sent a bunch of FLEEK members to help, but only non-Meria. He was actually hoping that a bunch of the best, non-Meria players would die in the dungeons and make it easier when the war breaks out. He really wanted those twins to die. He was actually considering sabotaging it so that they would. He never got real far with that, though. I bet he's ecstatic that those Crusaders just died, you know? He probably doesn't even care that Explorer died too. God… Explorer didn't deserve to die.

Lunar asked him to elaborate on the dungeon book.

He had some Merse printer make it. But he sent those two idiots, and they killed the printers and burned the shop down. I don't know why… but it doesn't matter, I guess. Striker told me to make sure that you don't learn anything about that. I don't think he expected someone to actually go to Merse.

Lunar asked him if there was any truth to the book.

No, it's completely made up. Striker, Dingo, and Jupit wrote it themselves. He was just thinking fast during the meeting. Right after the meeting, he started getting the book made.

Lunar asked him how many people know about this?

I don't know. I mean, Striker, Dingo, and Jupit, for sure. Skquib and his goons, but… I think they're gone now… Probably some other FLEEK members know. I only really communicated with Striker. Me, I guess, and there are others doing the same job as me in other cities. The Loresters in the library all know something. And… I guess you guys… now…

---

Lunar hadn't thought Gui would say so much. Watching the Meria compose himself after his tale, sniffling and wiping his eyes, trying to look optimistically towards the future, made Lunar sick.

In the observation room, LadMan buried his face in his hands.

–I thought something was strange about that dungeon book, said Chump. LadMan, you need to increase funds for SNAFU U. There's research I'm doing that needs to be expedited.

Then, to himself,

–I'm going to have to do something about Solo…

Slick and Pfo burst into the observation room. Lad hadn't realized they'd left the interrogation one.

–Lad, we have to call off the dungeon teams, said Slick.

–What do we tell them? Brostein asked. What reason do we give?

–It doesn't matter, we need to call them off before more players die.

–I know! thundered LadMan.

Gui heard him from the interrogation room. He looked at the mirror.

–Are people watching us? he asked Lunar.

Slick looked at LadMan and realized she had to take control.

–Doughy, I want you to put Gui, Misty, and Shout somewhere more permanent. And this Jamal, we're gonna want to talk to him later.

The little Lad rushed off to do so.

–Make sure they're separate, Slick called after him, remembering who she'd given the command to. And guarded!

–Pfo, call off the dungeon teams. Don't give them a reason. If they demand one, tell them something changed with the book. Just get them back here ASAP.

–Yeah, I'll handle it, said Pfo.

Chump opened his mouth to ask something.

–You, Slick said, can wait.

Chump closed his mouth.

Then, to Brostein,

–We need to plan our next steps very carefully. First, we have to figure out what to do with this information. If possible, I'd like to prevent an all out player war.

–Always sensible, said Brostein.

She jumped out of her chair, ready to move.

---

Chapter TWENTY-NINE

Thus Earlie, Thus Alone

…her Heav’nly forme
Angelic, but more soft, and Feminine,
Her graceful Innocence, her every Aire
Of gesture or lest action overawd
His Malice, and with rapine sweet bereav’d
His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought:
That space the Evil one abstracted stood
From his own evil, and for the time remained
Stupidly good, of enmitie disarm’d,
Of guile, of hate, of envie, of revenge;
But the hot Hell that always in his burnes,
Though in mid Heav’n, soon ended his delight,
And tortures him now more, the more he sees
Of pleasure not for him ordain’d: then soon
Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts
Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites.

---

The argument: Too quick to fall. Now we labor, eat thanks to the sweat of our brows. And decry the misery that has been.

---

Dear Mr. McCullen,

I would like to formally thank you for submitting your manuscript for my perusal. I understand how nerve wracking it can be to share your work. I applaud your courage. Unfortunately, in your case, there was cause to be worried, because your novel is atrocious. American Antigone exhibits all of the worst traits of contemporary fiction without any of the positive ones. I would not attempt to edit or re-write the novel. Simply put, it is unsalvageable. If I were you, I would take a long break from writing and, once you have matured, try again. Or don't. I do not believe that the world would lose anything significant if you never wrote another word.

If you insist on trying again, I have enclosed a list of recommended contemporary readings. These texts were chosen by TopTenBot. They represent a computer-chosen sample of the best contemporary writing has to offer. I would suggest taking from these texts some advice. Do not strike out on your own. You lack the talent.

Sincerely Yours,

Sake Jake, MA

---

List of Twelve (Relatively) Contemporary Readings

Generated by TopTenBot

Lovers on Fire by Ascii Easton - Two gay lovers survive the Vietnam War only to die in seperate, unrelated napalm incidents once back in the States.

Bad Girls Gone Worse by Rassolov Polzin - A recovering criminal, fresh out of jail, gets a job at a sunglasses kiosk at her local mall. But when thugs rob her kiosk and steal $12.96 worth of merchandise, she sets out for revenge.

Anne Frank Redux by F. Jones - In this highly controversial thriller, a neo-Nazi rally gets interrupted when a particular Jewish diarist returns with a vengeance.

Adieu To You by Rassolov Polzin - This novel follows an overweight, quirky French woman named Ariel as she drinks coffee and pets dogs, and a middle-aged, suit-wearing man who walks down streets while wearing a hat. They never meet.

Pre-abiogenesis: A Romance by Lacey Davenport - Two rocks occupy mass while wishing for something more.

Plate of Rice Lost by Joey Milton - An epic poem following that jackass Ted stealing the author's plate of fried rice at the Grand China Buffet. "Away they rolled, fat fucks the lot / Disappeared, consumption their one truth. / Buffets a testament of man's unwise / Free will. But aught of them will change; for so / They're formd as thin, but fat they must remain."

Baka Tojo Senpai! by Ichiko Uno - This popular light novel series is part comedy harem part action thriller. When awkward 12-16 year old Shiro Shiro kun learns he is one of the few who can pilot the legendary Zero, he must defend the planet against the baka gaijin desu.

Domo Arigato MtF Roboto by Jennie from Work - A semi-autobiographical work detailing Jennie's difficult adolescence as a male-to-female cable adapter.

The Non Binary by 8675 Dogwood - A young robot, feeling that he does not properly fit into robo-society's oppressive binary, sets out on a wild coming-of-age journey.

How the West was Re-Won by F. Jones - After a zombie apocalypse, the only survivors are on a cruise ship booked by a Native American tribe. They land near Yorktown with one objective: head west.

How the West was Won for the Third Time by F. Jones - After another zombie apocalypse, the only survivors are a group of Thirty Years' War reenactors on an old wooden ship. They land near Yorktown with one objective: head west.

Savages and Sabbaticals - Sake Jake - An aging professor accidentally sends himself back in time and gets caught up in the expeditions of Hernan Cortes. This thrilling novel asks, "Who are the real savages?"

---

Pfo, Dan, and Chump, stuffed in a black brougham, bumped back to SNAFU U. They'd just stopped at the teleporter tower. Dan, using a mixture of money and threats, got Zweister to remove the crystal from its pedestal and turn it over to them. Now he had it, possibly the most valuable item in the game, sitting in his inventory. Only a few knew. Him, Pfo, Chump, LadMan, Lunar, Slick… maybe a couple others. If anybody asked why the teleporters had suddenly stopped working, they were to tell them the network had malfunctioned and Zweister was looking into it. Zweister was to say the same. Nobody thought this excuse would get them far, but they couldn't well have Striker sending people through the teleporters, could they?

It was a lovely day. Pfo gazed out of the left-hand window. Forest lined the dirt road. Chump, evidently irked that he was stuck in the same carriage as the two Lads, sat squished in silence. Dan, sitting center, kept his eyes forward, ignoring the tension palpable between the players flanking him. The brougham-man, outside, tapped a brown boot unrhythmically against the footboard.

Pfo knew Chump thirsted to start his fucked experiments anew. In fact, Pfo doubted Chump had ever stopped. But now, with the dungeon clearing collapsed, Chump could re-appropriate all the Sad Lad funds he'd lost. No more relying on Pinkie's paltry pink pounds for funding. Pfo had so far stalled Chump's inevitable coup, but he knew it loomed. Did Chump even care if they got out? He didn't seem to regard the question as relevant. As useless as readings in epistemology. He could perceive, Dev/demon fuckery be damned, and he didn't need dead-Latin to induce on from there.

Pfo's immediate concerns were thus:

1. Chump was prone to run wilder than a eugenicist in Reich_4_beta.exe.
2. Chump definitely planned, despite LadMan's contrary commands, to expel all non-humans from the University.

Pfo watched the forest bump by. He knew his biggest enemy wasn't player-society as a whole, or Striker, or the Devs, but the crazy kid sitting one-Dan removed, forever plotting his next ethically dubious but "scientifically interesting" experiment. What was he working on? He hadn't done anything useful since his bandage breakthrough a while back.

The driver stopped in front of SNAFU U. Chump leapt out before he could lower the step, leaving Dan and Pfo to pay. On the SNAFU steps, Oxie. Her feathers shined in the Sun. She sat in a lawn chair, a sketch pad resting on her crossed legs. Her pencil flew. Before her, posed in the drive, Doughy and Shooketh, smiling wide.

Chump wouldn't look at her. He stomped past, trying to seem important. Pfo frowned. He paid the brougham driver. Chump was a child, really. None of this was right.

Oxie taught at a second-rate state uni and harbored no motivation to move up. She was content with her idiot undergrads and her living wage. Chill, cool, and kind. Chump, initially, made some poorly devised vies for her corporeal affection. He thought himself above such base concerns, but got thirstier (the game simulated multiple types of thirst) as time ticked. Too awkward to pay prostitutes or just bang like everyone else, he tried courting Oxie.

–Aren't you engaged? she once asked, ignoring Chump's for-naught attempts to neg. She'd heard bout Chump's engagement via Doughy. She'd taken a liking to the dumb boy and his shook pal, and from time to time helped them garden. It broke Oxie's heart that, despite both Pfo and Chump largely ignoring Doughy, he kept on and on about them.

Chump was surprised and irked to learn that Oxie knew of his IRL engagement.

–Yes, he replied, but… let's just say she doesn't act like a point particle from any distance. You… on the other hand…

Even Chump wasn't sure why he made that remark. Had he argued, as many did, that this didn't constitue "real" sex, or that the exceptional circumstances temporily exonerated him from playing the faithful fiance, Oxie might have at least let him down easy. As it was, she told him to fuck off.

She thought, being part of the dungeon team, that she wouldn't have to deal with Chump anymore. She'd help clear until all clear and then they'd exit the game. But now, suddenly called back with no reason why, she found herself again the source of Chump's attention.

But something had changed. Chump's previous attitudes had been the sort of awkward toxicity one expected of his type. Now he seemed almost vindicated, as if Oxie would soon rue the day she rejected him. He exuded a sick confidence. She was growing nervous.

–I'm flying back to Brandonville, said Dan. It's faster that way.

–Okay, said Pfo. Be careful with… you know…

–Pfo! shouted Doughy as the Lad approached the SNAFU steps. Look, Oxie is drawing us.

Oxie turned her pad so Pfo could see. He nodded.

–Very nice.

–Where have you three been? she asked.

–Just some Sad Lad business, he said.

–Something to do with the dungeons, I'm guessing?

–No… no, said Pfo. Something else.

Oxie eyed him.

–Do you think I don't have the right to know what's going on?

–Yes… I mean, no, nothing is going on.

–Well get your story straight, said Oxie. Because Pinkie is looking for explanations.

–Pinkie? Is he here?

–In Chump's office. I would've told Chump if he hadn't barged right past me.

–Eugh, said Pfo, I guess we'll see how this goes.

---

The Bell X-1, alternatively the Bell Model 44, was a rocket-craft which, in 1947, under the control of Charles Elwood Yeager, became the first confirmed aircraft to surpass the speed of sound in level flight. The speed of sound varies depending on which substance it is traveling through. As a rule, sound travels slowest in gases, faster in liquids, and fastest in solids. In air at 68° F, sound travels at 767 mph. In water, sound travels at 3,311 mph. In iron, 11,453 mph. And diamond, 26,843 mph. While Yeager admirably broke the sound barrier in air, he was too cowardly to even attempt doing so in water, iron, or diamond, in his Bell X-1 or any other aircraft. So far, these feats remain undone.

What about light? Light, limiting causality thus, travels in a vacuum at 670,616,629 mph. To solve for light's speed through a transparent material, use n = c / v , where n is the material's refractive index, c is the speed of light in a vacuum (670,616,629 mph, or 299,792,458 m/s), and v is the speed of light through the material. With a refractive index of 1.5, glass gives a v of 124,000 miles per second. With a refractive index of 1.0003, air gives a v of 186,220 miles per second.

It's all information, baby. First of all, fuck you all.

Against the wind, Oxie sails. She's always been like this. What's the polar opposite of a hafiz? Someone who's never read the damn thing. Can the prophets save us from heat death? Probably, some hadith say. But the thing is, the Quran loses its power if nobody reads it. Heat death don't care, it's coming for you anyway.

First test. Trying to find an upper limit to the construction of the cosmos. Is it a skybox up there? What's the largest possible structure things seem to have? As for shape, we've measured Omega at pretty close to 1. So for now we'll assume flat. Flat is justice, after all. Just don't say that around Lunar, it'll send him into a careen. As for structure, we've got 3e23 stars arranged in galactic filaments. Why the filaments? Dark matter? Why the dark matter? Quantum fluctuations in the Universe's earliest moments? Maybe.

Can you replicate these tests in-game? Not really. Shape ain't happening. Even the shape of the planet confounds the players. And asking after the structure of the cosmos without knowing skybox or naw seems equally stupid.

Some of the Meria players flew as high as they could. Oxie, fearless, soared into the sky, ever closer to the Sun (or maybe not). Was the only thing preventing her sea-crashing like Icarus the non-existence of the star? She kept going until she got light headed. She tried to push further. Insanity. Why was she doing this? Pfo had been right, this was useless. Playing into Chump's hands. A guinea pig volunteering itself. She tried to go higher. She passed out.

She woke moments later to find herself plummeting. Turning over and over, all out of sorts. Falling too fast. She spread her wings and caught the wind. The force should've ripped her wings clean off. But it hardly hurt. She glided, relieved, still hundreds high.

Surely you could get higher in planes? Chump, at no little expense, rented one and stuck Dead Dude and Jmar inside it. They got to 10 klicks before the engine gave out. They fell a thousand meters before it started up again. Then Chump sent them up in a hydrogen balloon. Same as before, 10 kilos up before they both passed out. They awoke to find their balloon descending gently, a dozen kilometers from SNAFU U.

Slick and Brostein had suggested sending players to explore the edges of the map, but Chump, at this point irate with these artificial-altitude limitations, nixed that plan and dove smallward. He bought or constructed powerful microscopes and started gazing. Much more success here. The SNAFU scholars found evidence of Brownian motion in fluid-suspended particles. They recreated Perrin's work to prove atomic nature. Then Solo, the particle physicist, recreated the Geiger-Marsden experiments and discovered the nucleus. What did this matter? For most players, still pre-teleporter at this time, it didn't. For the SNAFU scholars that followed these discoveries, it meant a good bit.

As for Oxie, it scared her. How could the game simulate all this? Was it really simulating the atomic nature of reality? She'd assumed it'll all be pixels. How deep do you have to look to see said pixels? Does that mean her long-held conviction of the up-there skybox should also come under doubt? Oxie told herself it was a trick of the game. Solo hadn't actually observed alpha particles deflected at plus-90 degrees. He hadn't observed alpha particles at all. What he saw when he looked into his microscope was akin to a mini-game, like lock-picking. But why the fuck would the Devs include all that?

Oxie had pushed these thoughts from her mind. They made the game even more incomprehensible. She wanted to leave. Hence her helping the dungeon team. In the very back of her brain, while she struggled to save Hector and Andy during the dungeon debacle, was the awful thought that her cosmology might prove useful. If that was true, what were they in?

---

Chump continued his various researches during the dungeoning using the power of the pink pound. This ain't news to nobody. But what was he actually doing? Early on, after Chump had looked out and in and around, he began focusing on a few key areas. And he had some powerful assets with which to work. He had his medical department, and Solo, the genius Meria physicist. In addition, he kept close a cohort of NPCs. It was Solo who'd originally advocated bringing them on. Chump scoffed, but Solo convinced him. So, by and by, in a lucky-find lab only they knew about, they got down to work.

The medical department developed the improved bandage after experimenting with several potions. This was more akin to fancy alchemy than chemistry. But Chump, with help from Viking, one of the only engineers who didn't hate him, found a way to break down the potion-ingredients into their constituent parts. From there it quickly followed that, incorporating SNAFU's early atomic experiments, the researchers could begin their building in earnest.

Somewhat by mistake, Chump and Sleepr modified a low-level poison, changing its composition and imbuing it with unexpected properties. A perverted penicillin, if you will. They pursued this line of research for a while, until Solo came to them with a shocking development. He'd come into contact with a particular NPC scientist who held certain theories about pitchblende and its radioactivity. Solo, with his help, jumped thirty years and started bombarding uranium with neutrons. To his amazement, he detected barium. Chump and Sleepr immediately grasped where this could go. They didn't have the money or materials to produce sufficient fissile, but they considered the fact that they could make fission valuable in and of itself.

They were content, but Solo wouldn't quit. He refused to follow the rules, argued angrily that the game didn't observe reality despite seeming to, and pestered NPCs of all types for information. Chump and Sleepr lost interest, and started back up with their perverted penicillin. Soon, they'd perfected it. Then they got again into dissections. They didn't foresee Solo coming to them one day with a dusty old tome, claiming he'd found a mage that could cut fissile material production time by 99%.

---

Chump barged in on Sleepr, Pinkie, El0n, and Imma Wut, standing around his Spartan room, sipping wine from the mess hall and making catty remarks about Chump's interior design. Oxie and Pfo followed a few seconds later. Sleepr, who forewent the wine, had been laughing nervously along with Pinkie and Imma Wut's insults. He looked relieved to see Chump.

–Oh, Chumpy, said Pinkie to the shocked scientist. Where have you been? We've been waiting forever and, hon, this wine isn't good enough to sip forever.

–Is any wine? asked Imma Wut with a laugh.

Imma Wut stool tall. Despite his green scales he seemed almost human. His simple, well fitting clothes that clung to his chest and legs. His lavious blue rapier that hung at his waist. Like a rich prince under some witch's fishy curse. Any moment he'd revert back to handsome human form.

–Trust me, honey, some of the wine I've had was, said Pinkie.

Pinkie approached Chump. Only too late did the latter realize it was for a hug. He stood stone-still, arms glued to his side while Pinkie gave him a warm half-hug.

–So… where have you been? Pinkie asked. You too, Pfo. You guys aren't trying to hide from me, are you?

–Sad Lad stuff, said Pfo.

Chump said nothing.

–Of course it's Sad Lad stuff, said Pinkie. You're Sad Lads, everything you do is Sad Lad stuff. I'm asking what Sad Lad stuff in particular. Does it have something to do with… I don't know… the dungeons?

–We're not sure that dungeon was the right one, said Pfo. We… we're trying to figure it out.

Oxie frowned. Was that true? Had Andy, Hector, Explorer, and Liao died for nothing?

–By all means, honey, keep doing everything on your own, said Pinkie. All these secrets are working so well.

–You should leave, Chump muttered.

–What was that? I didn't catch that.

–Leave. Go away, said Chump. I'm busy.

–Oh, busy doing what? I'd really like to know, considering you're using my money to do it. You insisted that you needed my money, despite us already knowing how to get out of the game. So I said "sure, more knowledge isn't a bad thing." And all asked was that you keep me informed. But you haven't done that, have you? And to make things worse, we aren't clearing the dungeons anymore. And nobody will give me a straight answer on why we've stopped doing that. I feel like I've been thrown into a class for a subject I never studied. It's like my uni maths all over again.

–I'm too busy for this! Chump thundered. Go away, leave me alone!

–Excuse me? said Pinkie.

–I said fuck off!

---

–You heard?

–What's that? said Oxie, sitting down, stretching out. She let out a sigh. The lounge was empty. Quiet. Calm pervaded, betraying the turmoil inside them.

–Supposedly we all have a new empress, long may she reign, said Healthy Man.

–What are you talking about? asked Dead Dude.

–I heard it on the radio, said Healthy Man. The human emperor is dead. He didn't have any children, but in the last months of his life he fell for some woman. Married her and died a few weeks later.

–That ain't suspicious, said Jmar.

–Well, whether the NPCs think it is or not, I don't know. But this woman succeeded the emperor. Now she rules over this whole vast empire of… I honestly don't know what this empire is called. Whatever it's called, she rules it, I guess. Wansui to her.

–She won't last that long, said Oxie. The breakdown is speeding up.

–And what do the stars say of the great order-to-disorder? Still can't see?

–Still can't see, said Oxie.

–Hububle. That's all we got for our sight.

–Need the eyes of the darkness, said Dead Dude.

–Bruh, what'd I tell you about quoting that nonsense? said Jmar.

–Dog, the Wake isn't racist.

–It's Crawford.

–It's just a clever way of saying "ears."

–Yeah, that's been stolen.

–Whatever, dog.

–It don't even make sense. Oxie needs a radio telescope or some shit. We already got ears.

–All right, dog, chill.

–You get anything from Pfo or Chump? Healthy Man asked Oxie. Why were we called back from the dungeons?

–No, said Oxie. Some problem with the book, that's all they'll say. Maybe the dungeon we were clearing was wrong?

–Don't see how it could be. It fit all the clues. You know what I think? I think it has to do with Hector and them. The whole fruit Ilium we had going on. Someone got squeamish and called us all back. Maybe that isn't the worst thing? We were breaking down down there. People were getting desperate. Something worse might have happened had we stayed. Maybe best to grind for a bit and come back.

–Yes, yes, enter at the mention of grinding, I get it, said Pinkie, fluttering into the room in a flurry, Imma Wut behind him.

–Pinkie, hey, said Oxie.

The others nodded their hellos.

–Oxie, honey, I'm not crazy, am I? said Pinkie. Those Sad Lads are hiding something, aren't they?

–Seems like it to me, said Oxie.

To the others she said,

–They wouldn't tell Pinkie anything, either.

–Aren't you the one funding Chump? said Dead Dude.

–As of an hour ago, I was, said Pinkie. He doesn't seem to care about my money anymore. He must've found some other sugar daddy to keep him comfortable.

–Who else would give him money? asked Dead Dude.

–Yo, you don't think it's LadMan? said Jmar.

–Why would he? All the Sad Lads' money is going towards clearing the dungeons.

–Well, ain't much clearing getting done right now.

–It's infuriating, honestly, said Pinkie. I was telling Georgie here (Imma Wut nodded), that it's just disrespectful. These Sad Lads think they can keep everything to themselves. And for what reason? I can't even think of why we shouldn't know exactly what is going on? The only thing I can think of is that they don't think we're important enough to bother explaining things to. Outrageous, honestly. You know I messaged a score of people. Oh yeah, I haven't only been asking around here at SNAFU U. I messaged Slick, who is usually a right dear, but she ignored me. All the others too. Either ignored me or said they know nothing. Maybe some of them are telling the truth, but surely somebody knows something. Somebody made the decision to stop the clearing, right? You'd think LadMan himself would know something, but he's ignoring me too. Exacerbating. Really, it is. I even messaged Gui. You know him, Georgie. The Meria. Striker's chap. Looks like a toddler in a suit. But even he ignored me. He didn't seem the sort to ignore me.

–Jesus, said Healthy Man. I'm starting to think we should be worried.

–I think we ought to! said Pinkie. One obstinate player, sure, but everyone. I was certain I'd be able to convince one of Chumpy's people to tell me what's going on. But I can't even find half of them!

–What's that? asked Oxie.

–Yeah, that's right, said Pinkie. Whenever Chumpy would get difficult, I'd go to one of his people. Sleepr's mouth is shut up tight, so I thought I'd go to Solo, that physicist. But he's nowhere to be found. And Chump won't even tell me where he's gone.

Oxie pulled him up in her menu.

–His location is unknown?

–Uh huh. Ask Chump about him and he'll just say that he left. So did Yui, Qbert, and Giggity at about the exact same time. And Shill, that strange little Dwarvia conspiracy theorist. Oh, and El0n, that Meria brain surgeon or whatever he was.

–They're all gone? said Dead Dude.

–Nowhere to be found, Pinkie confirmed. I'm sure more people are gone that I haven't even thought of yet? Did Chump kick them out? Did they leave because of some specific reason? These are things I really deserve to know.

–Does Pfo know about all these missing people? asked Oxie.

–Probably? Probably not? Who has any idea? said Pinkie, throwing up his hands. At this point, I'm convinced that nobody knows anything. Does anybody? Does anybody really?

A pertinent question.

---

This isn't how Pfo wanted things to go. He sat at his desk, an unopened booze bottle before him. He'd debated all night whether it was ethical to get as blasted as the game would allow. He was afraid of being more than buzzed and having to make a decision, but he was also afraid of making decisions sober.

He put his hands on the bottle. Cold glass against his skin. How good would it feel to pour its burning contents down his throat? If he rubbed the bottle, would his wishes come floating out? He remembered, after he'd dropped his masters, sitting alone in his literary little apartment, booze before him, debating whether to drink till his lack of drive stopped bothering him.

He had to tell somebody the truth. Chump clearly meant to rid the University of all non-humans, little by little, too slowly to spark resistance. Could he tell Oxie?

The secret'll stay bottled as long as my booze, Pfo thought. If Striker couldn't keep it contained, they sure couldn't. Too many people know. It's not a secret, its information. Oughta kill Oxie now, so she wouldn't learn how badly she'd been lied to. Same went for everyone. Liars and liars, around and around, gyres and liars and…

Pfo searched up Pinkie's name in his menu. Grayed out. Location unknown. He'd been there just hours before. Wouldn't have left without saying goodbye. Pfo sighed. So deeply. Had his opposition to Chump ever been anything more than academic? Did he have it in him to act?

---

Pfo burst into Chump's office. Surrounding a table: Chump, Sleepr, Absolute Thot, and other Chump-aligned academics. Pfo dryly noted: all humans.

–What is it? Chump nearly shouted. What could you possibly want?

–You can't think of anything I'd want? said Pfo.

–Pfo, hissed Thot.

Pfo was taken aback. Never heard Thot speak with such venom.

–You need to get on the same page as everyone else, Thot continued. We're trying to do what's best. Stop making that so difficult.

–What are you talking about, Thot? Since when were you with Chump?

–Since I realized that we're not going to get out of here by pussyfooting around. We're working to get at least some of us out of here.

–Do you hear yourself?

–Pfo, come on, said Sleepr is his same-old, nervous way. We're not your enemies here. We didn't set this game up as a species war. But if everyone else is determined to fight it out, what choice does that leave us?

–Everyone else is absolutely not determined to fight it out, said Pfo.

–Everyone needs to keep their voices down, said Chump coldly.

–Pfo, this isn't our fault. Just stop making trouble for us, said Sleepr with his slight stutters.

Always so nervous. Impossible to tell real-nervous from habitual-nervous. Could you be nervous all the time? Was he incapable of dealing with life cooly? So he went through stuttering and stammering? Surely he couldn't operate at max-nerves all the time. There had to be a spectrum. If so, Sleepr didn't show it. Just a single, consistently nervous display; a dull, omnipresent buzzing, not overpoweringly loud, not alarming, but profoundly annoying.

–What did you do with Pinkie? Pfo demanded. What about Yui? And Solo?

–It doesn't matter what happened to them, said Chump.

–Doesn't matter?

–Pfo, there's such a thing as being too idealistic, said Thot. I used to agree with you. But that time has passed. This situation is too dire. We have to do whatever we can. The NPCs aren't real, so we use them. The monsters aren't real, so we dissect them. We figure out how the game's physics work, how its medicine works, how our bodies work, how much sustenance we need to survive, what the best things to eat are, what the worst things to eat are, how the diseases work… et cetera et cetera. We need to know these things. We need to know them quickly. The players aren't a big team anymore. Everything I've learned recently has made it very clear that we haven't been a big team for a while. Honestly, we never were. If its species vs. species, fine, so be it. We'll band together and win this thing. If that means everyone gets out, wonderful. If it means only we get out, well… I'm not dying in this game, Pfo. I'm not staying trapped. There are things on the outside that I need to do.

–Give it a rest, Thot, said Pfo. If you were on track to win a Nobel you wouldn't be playing MMOs in the first place.

–I want to see my family, you asshole! God, you amaze me. You care more about your vague definition of ethics than seeing your loved ones again? Maybe you don't have any loved ones. But I do.

–Ethics are all we have… stammered Pfo.

–What have we done? demanded Thot. You don't have evidence of anything, Pfo. You're going around claiming we've done all these things, but you don't have any evidence. You just came up with a conclusion, a little pet theory, if you can even call it a theory, that you bend your paltry observations to support. It's always the same with you humanities people. Honestly, it astounds me. I'd rip into you but I don't know enough about what you actually do. Who needs to? It's useless. We need to be reasonable at a time like this, not run around spouting nonsense.

How did we get to this? thought Pfo.

He stood, impotent, as Thot continued his deluge of faulty but sharp-toothed dissery.

–What happened to you, Thot? Pfo asked.

–What happened to you, Pfo? Thot countered.

Thot was probably right. What use are ethics at a time like this? Chump wants the truth. He's gonna act to get it. Veritas omnia vincit, after all. Chump didn't know what the phrase meant. And he wouldn't care. What use is dead Latin to living souls? The great objectivity consumes all, reduces each experience till but a singularity remains. Then, with all experience combined, all dis-experience purged, the big T Truth will exist alone, all the tiny truths gone where they belong, wherever. None of this needs to be deduced, it can be assumed. The logical leap to assume it doesn't matter, the single assumption underpins everything.

Round and round Pfo went. Of course, Thot, while criticising Pfo for his ad hoc fuckery, had in his own eye a splinter the size of a log.

And he wouldn't care. Chump wouldn't care. They would never care. The imperial bayonet could reach Pfo as long as he stayed under its shadow. Had to get out. Had to get away.

–Look, Pfo, look at this, Chump was saying.

Sleepr and Thot looked with surprise as Chump handed Pfo a bottled potion. Pfo inspected it. Realized that, not a liquid, the stuff was a thin powder.

–It's a medicine, said Chump. Sprinkle some on yourself and it heals you. It's what Sleepr and I have been working on all this time. Take some.

Pfo handed it back.

–Fine, then, said Chump. Watch.

He motioned to Sleepr. Sleepr vigorously shook his head.

–Honestly, said Chump. I'm always left to perform these Barry Marshall stunts.

Chump took out a dagger and, before Thot or Sleepr could stop him, stabbed himself in the stomach. Blood poured onto his lap. His health dropped by a fourth. He took a pinch of the potion-flakes and sprinkled them on the wound. Suddenly, not only had the cut healed, but he was back at full health.

–The next evolution of our bandages, said Chump. This is the research you've been so opposed to.

Pfo narrowed his eyes. He snatched up the bottle before they could protest and left.

Sleepr looked at Chump.

–Let him go, Chump said. It doesn't matter.

---

Chapter THIRTY

One, Two, Three, Four, I Declare Race War

---

The argument: The prisoners find themselves in a dilemma. Some shwacked wife-whacker once said that war is over if you want it. By why bother?

---

Bobby the baseball star came rolling home, his irked GF driving. A beat-up red wreck, replete with dings, dents, and scratches courtesy of the world's worst drivers, all of whom lived within a ten mile radius of Bobby and his GF's hood.

She pulled up in front of Bobby's townhouse, half her wheels on the curb. The world was dark, save for the dim, flickering light of the scattered streetlamps and the hanging, bloated Moon; yellow, as if malaria stricken. Bobby's GF, Kimani (after the singer) thought she saw a star in the sky. She didn't look long enough to see it flicker and move.

Blasted Bobby staggered out of the car. He still wore his uniform, his shirt dirt-stained from when he slid into third. He popped Kimani's trunk.

–Where my bag at? he asked her.

Kimani stood on the sidewalk, half-shrouded, playing with her hair. She'd been letting it spring out naturally and, bored, recently tinged it with caramel highlights.

–Why you think I know? she said.

–I thought you got it? Bobby said, slamming the trunk.

Kimani's whole car shook.

–It ain't my bag, is it?

–Josh probably has it, Bobby mumbled, heading towards his house. He'll get it to me…

Bobby got to the door and fiddled with the lock. Once open, he entered, only to turn and see Kimani still standing near her car, more shrouded than before.

–You coming? he asked.

–No, she said. It's late, I'm tired.

–You can sleep here.

–No.

Bobby scowled.

–See ya then.

Kimani got into her car and started it up. The interior light lit up and illuminated her face. She stared straight ahead, hand on the wheel, foot on the brake, hesitating.

She'd been at Bobby's game hours earlier, sitting near his mom and dorky Demarion, cheering as Bobby went three for four with a double-distance outfield whack his speed turned to a triple. Later, chilling with her friends, she got a text from her bashed not bashful boyfriend telling her he needed a ride home from Josh's. Bobby wasn't a bonehead like his sweet brother. Why'd he act like one, den? spending his time sucking down Ciroc and barfing it back up?

Kimani drove off. Bobby stood in his doorway, watching. She disappeared into the haze long before the thought of her followed. Bobby went upstairs, endeavoring to climb the creaky stairs without making noise. Didn't want to wake his mother, sleeping unsoundly nearby, or his father, no doubt dead in his own bed, snoring loudly. But he also didn't want to disturb Demarion. His brother was likely logged in and, therefore, beyond the real realm's audial influence. Still… if Demarion was breaking for fluid or fuel, and heard Bobby banging his way up the stairs, he'd jump out and,

–Bobby! The guys are getting together to do a mission!

Bobby didn't want to play right now. He didn't want to deal with any mission. Besides, VR of almost any grade was awful when your IRL bod was boozed.

He made it to his room without causing much commotion. Failing to even flick on his light, he ripped off his baseball uniform, his spikes (he forgot to take them off when entering the house) his sliding shorts, and threw on a pair of briefs he found in a clothes pile on the floor. He fell into his bed.

He could hear through the thin walls Dem shouting and spinning around in his rig. At this time, the toppest tech was (near) full immersion, hall dive. Achieved by a big rig, almost like a cage, in which you stood, somewhat suspended on an omni-directional treadmill. You wore a haptic suit, special nose plugs built to simulate smell but also allow breathing, headphones, and your headset. This system only failed to simulate taste, but Bobby felt sure the hardware heads were hard at work figuring that out too. This gear came at a surprisingly affordable cost (not that Demarion would've scoffed at any cost). Their diddy bought Dem the whole rig because, despite his parents' prodding, it was all Dem wanted to do. Bobby's gaming invoked much less ire cause he was so good at ball (Bobby's dad made it to the minors).

Bobby remembered, when he was very young, his little brother banging around his room with his simple headset and handheld controllers. He sorta missed those days.

Bobby lay in his bed, staring into the darkness engulfing everything a few feet away from his eyes. He couldn't even see his ceiling. He assumed it was there, but conceded the possibility that should he start floating he'd float forever, all the way into the infinite darkness. Bobby, with his incomplete cosmology, thought that, once he reached the edge of the Universe he'd proceed into a black nothing that went on forever and ever. It was into this black nothing that we, in our expanding universe, are expanding into. Therefore, Bobby figured, in a sense, he was already headed forever into that darkness.

Past the Moon exuding its yellow, miasmic mist; past the stupid stars, hot but hopeless; past the big, black holes. Even they will someday cease to be.

A few months later full dive, half immersion VR would be announced. Bobby's dad, ecstatic his son got several good offers from several good schools, would pony up cash for two, first generation headsets. A few semesters into Bobby's uni days he'd hurt himself and give up ball. He'd fall into despondency and drop out. His mother would keep harassing Demarion about gaming too much and studying too little. It would prove a lost cause. Demarion had dove head first into Lukia. Bobby, moved out and working for a low wage, would join him.

---

LadMan gathered the important non-human Lads: Woman, Phat, Erectio, Ty, and Pbbbbbbb&j (just back from Chancellorsburg) and told them plainly the entire situation as he knew it. Everything about Striker, everything that Lunar, Dan, and Clean uncovered, everything about Gui, Misty, and Shout. He finished by assuring them that he had no intention of letting humanity's baser instincts prevail; he would have faith, however unfounded, in finding another way out of the game. He would prevent a species war however he could. Dan, standing behind him, said nothing. Whether or not he approved of this move nobody could tell. The Lads were silent for several minutes, sitting still, processing.

–Each species has a library? said Phatphuck, finally. And then there are two other, special libraries?

–That's right, said LadMan.

He was acutely aware of Ty's carbine, which he'd let him bring, sitting in his lap, loaded.

–We've found one library, said Phatphuck. Or… not us… the players as a whole. We have no reason to believe that anybody else has found another library? Or anything else significant, for that matter?

–Lunar says he remembered seeing something in Duke Valefor's house, said LadMan. The guy who had the teleporter crystal. Something about a big catastrophe that would please the Duke. But he told me not to take that too seriously. Said the Duke was a crazy asshole.

–This is a lot to base on so little, said Phatphuck. Striker is going to let this destroy us?

–Funny, I had some admiration for the man, said Woman. Very cool-headed in the opening days in Merse, you know? I suppose I owe Dan something resembling an apology.

Dan crossed his arms.

–We all do, said LadMan. But right now-

–Thanks, Lad, said Ty, his voice quiet and distant.

–Huh?

–We preciate the trust, kid, said Erectio. We're Lads first, whatever else second. We gotta stick together.

Phatphuck nodded his assent.

–I sure ain't gonna let these Devs ruin our brosury, said Pbbbbbbb&j. We've been tight too long. Besides, you prolly right, what kind of RPG doesn't have a bunch of ways to finish it? I always take the stealthy route, or the diplomatic route. I don't go "oh here I go killing again" the first chance I get.

–Even if we can't get out without killing, said Erectio, I'm still not gonna. They started killing in Danganronpa, and look at the problems that caused.

LadMan could hardly contain himself. Lucky to have Lads like these.

---

Despite his inner circle's solidity, LadMan still found himself beset by problems. First, Emperor Bonaparte (a human), when brought into the fold, reacted with a stunned silence and fell into a dolor he never quite overcame. His productivity plummeted and LadMan grew concerned for his emotional health.

Second, problems were abound at SNAFU U. LadMan had sent Chump and Pfo back there first thing to secure the school and start redirecting their resources away from the dungeon-book. He hoped this new threat might unite the two academics, but he found them fighting just as much as ever. And things would get worse. Then they'd get much worse. But at that time, LadMan figured he'd keep faith in Chump and Pfo and let them lead, even if that meant that a near-constant toxicity existed between them. LadMan instructed them to report, in person, to Brandonville at least three times a week. He let that problem lie.

Third, a day and a half after the discovery, with the top Lads working like mad men, LadMan received from Rufus and Jil a written communication from Deus. In response to LadMan's orders to return immediately, Deus had written,

"Why?"

–Why? Why does he have to come back? Because I told him to, that's why! thundered LadMan.

–Deus is very sensitive right now, Lad, said Rufus, who hadn't been made aware of the reason for Lad's sudden order. The whole Hector thing hit him hard. It hit all of us hard. If this is about that-

–It's not about that, Lad said. It's about something else entirely. If Deus wants an explanation, you tell him to get his butt back here, with everyone, every single member of the A-Team, and then I will consider bringing him up to date. Go, get him back here. I don't care what he says, get him back here right now.

Rufus and Jil left frightened and confused, hauling ass back to the A-Team. LadMan knew that many of humanity's best fighters rolled with the A-Team. He'd never admit this motivation, but he wanted Beb, Charles, Bobby, Di, Deus, all highly skilled humans, close by.

The A-Team would arrive several days later. LadMan, after a lot of yelling with Deus, would bring him up to date. Meanwhile, the Lad Leader waited to see what the FLEEK founder would do. Did a peaceful resolution exist? Could it be that, due to the Devs, all the players were essentially the same? Some of the "pragmatic" Lads, from the comfort of the pax Americana, liked to say that ethics are the privilege of the well-fed. Should LadMan strike Striker before the latter had the chance? Should he kill all the non-humans just to be safe? Wait for Striker to make the first move, then counter and annihilate him? What if Striker's first move was too overwhelming? Or he could sit, strive for a peaceful solution even as Striker struck. In doing so, he might transcend.

---

Does LadMan know about these meetings?

Yes, of course he knows.

Then why isn't he here?

Because he doesn't need to be. He's working on a peaceful solution, I'm prepping the contingency. He doesn't have the heart for this kind of thing anyway.

Which will make it difficult if hostilities do commence…

No… that's not what I meant. If worst comes to worst Lad will do what needs to be done.

A lot of confidence in someone who consistently fails to prove himself.

All right, stop. He hasn't consistently failed. None of you were able to organize things like he did. Who knows where we'd be without Lad? But enough about that, we need to get these details sorted out. ____, have you checked on Chancellorsburg?

Getting numbers is difficult. The last attempt at a census came up with 25,000, give or take.

How many players are in the game total?

____ says 100,000.

That seems right. Deadeye expected those numbers, and that's what their original message said. So a fourth of all the players are in Chancellorsburg. How many of them are human?

Something like 95%. Possibly more. A lot of the players from other species that migrated, with the exception of some height-scared Meria, came to Brandonville, not Chancellorsburg.

What are the estimates for players in Brandonville?

7,000 humans, 6,000 others.

Jesus, I didn't realize the ratio was that bad. Okay, give me the rest of the numbers.

Keeping in mind that these estimates are incredibly rough, we have 20,000 Meria in their spawn, with fewer than a thousand at their capital. Striker sent some to investigate it and see if they could control it, but no players truly live there yet. For Wisteria it's 15,000 at spawn and 5,000 at their capital. The Dwarvia have 14,000 at their spawn and 3,000 at their capital. Finally, Frostia have about 8,000 at spawn and almost nobody at their capital.

Those numbers don't add to 100.

Again, the estimates are very rough.

Do we have demographic breakdowns for Brandonville?

Of the 6,000, 3,000 are Wisteria, 1,500 are Dwarvia, and 1,000 are Frostia. Only 500 or so are Meria.

Because Striker made a concentrated effort to keep all the Meria in Merse.

The teleporters coming online sparked the greatest amount of migration. By then, Striker knew of the race-war and would have reason to implement such a policy.

What about the humans in other cities?

Their numbers are negligible. The largest population is with the Wisteria. About 1,000 spread between their capital and spawn.

And the numbers for the countryside? How many humans are spread among the other towns and cities?

Those numbers don't really exist. But we have no reason to believe that population is significant.

Fine, then we clearly have the number advantage. What about the NPCs? Do we know what their numbers look like?

More or less proportional to the player populations. Quite the coincidence. One hundred NPCs per player, roughly..

They're not spread out in the same way, though, of course. The greatest human population lives in Chancellorsburg, with Brandonville lagging far, far behind. But Brandonville has way more human NPCs..

____ is right. I assume we're going to formulate a plan to utilize the NPCs should hostilities commence?

Yes, we'll be in charge of that. From what we've seen so far, it seems like the NPCs, individually, dislike us. I mean, not all of them, but most. However, they won't engage unless provoked. We've had zero reports of a neutral NPC attacking a player first. Roadside bandits and NPCs like that are a separate issue.

But the NPCs as a group have proven fairly easy to manipulate. Even as individuals, actually, they're vulnerable.

In the event of hostilities, our top priority will be to get as many human NPCs on our side as possible. It would be best to have them do most of the real fighting.

How's our relationship with the human government, then? You're aware that the previous emperor recently died-

Yes, of course I know that.

Did we have any relationship with him?

We didn't think that it was necessary-

This does call LadMan's decision-making into question. You understand that, right? Why was contact not established?

We didn't realize we'd have to deal with the whole fucking NPC empire, okay? There was no reason-

No reason not to, either. Think of-

All right, enough. What do we know about this new empress?

She's far more active, for one. Very martial, from what I hear. She's taken a big interest in military affairs and defense. Expanding the military. Already moving troops around. She's young too. Named… Xia, I think. Empress Xia. Married the late emperor not too long ago. I also heard that she turned his villa into a veritable fortress.

She definitely killed him. Jesus, the last thing we need right now are NPC government problems. But… no, this is a good thing. If she's gung ho about the military, we could use that to help us. Especially because she's a woman… she'll feel like she needs to prove herself.

Quite the assumption.

We'll send a delegation regardless. Let's organize one as soon as possible. We should assume that Striker has taken similar moves in regards to the Meria NPCs.

We also need to think about the non-human players in Brandonville. Many of the best players in the game, of all species, are concentrated here right now. If fighting breaks out we need to have a plan to deal with them immediately.

We're in charge of that, I assume. LadMan doesn't want to deal with it?

Will you stop shitting on Lad?

I-

Enough. Dan is right, criticising LadMan isn't going to get us where we need to be. For better or worse, we're the ones in charge of these contingency plans. Let's accept that and get planning.

I want a list of all the important non-human players in Brandonville. I also want plans to detain them if necessary. Anyone who's particularly good, or was big in Lukia, or is rich… whatever.

That's a lot of work.

Well, you have whatever resources you need, don't you? Hire NPCs. Do whatever you need to do. Flag the non-human members of the A-Team in particular. Some of them could become real issues.

What about inner-guild loyalties? Would Deus, for example, stand by while we detain non-human Crusaders? What about those twins?

Incorporate that into your plan, then. Deus… I think he will be okay. He understands the situation. As far as I know, the twins don't know about the species war yet. Maybe I can get Lunar to explain things to them. Either way, have a plan ready. If I give the order to put the plan in action, we need to do it immediately.

We'll do our best. But I must say, I don't feel comfortable with you having sole say over whether or not the plan goes into action.

I don't. I'm just the one who'll tell you. LadMan will be the one to actually give the order.

I'm not sure if that makes me feel much better…

Shut up about that, Jesus. We need to move on. Oh… before I forget, your plan needs to include a force to take control of SNAFU U. They have a lot of non-humans there, and the place is pretty unstable anyways. You've got that retard Pfo… plus Chump, who seems smart but kinda spergy. But they have a lot of valuable stuff there. Chump told me about some of his new inventions… Anyway, we need to be able to take control of it if things go south.

Fine, but only because you haven't given us enough to do already…

Stop complaining. This could get us out of the game. Now, about finances…

---

Pfo fuddled around for a while. Sniffing and peeking, trying to find out what happened to Pinkie, Solo, Yui, and all the others. He set Chump's potion on his desk and glared at it from all angles, trying to find the deviosity within it. After a while, with hesitation, he took a pinch and sprinkled it on his skin. It glowed green and felt soft and cool. He could feel it reacting with his skin, like cool, clean river water on a Sun-roasted limb. He remembered his poolside childhood, when, after hours playing volleyball with his sisters, he'd jump in the refreshing water and paddle around. Maybe Pfo had been wrong? Maybe Chump was a decent dude, albeit of the ends-justify type? Maybe all the NPC and animal dissections came from a genuine moral certainty that they possessed no personhood? Maybe he really meant to better the lot of the players?

But then he recalled Detle, dead on the metal gurney, gut cut open. Maybe Chump felt certain Detle's dead bod had no personhood left? Maybe he didn't care about Pinkie et al cause he had bigger things on his mind, more people to care about? Maybe they'd left because Chump pissed them off? An old fashioned storm-off? Dunno, seems like a stretch. Solo and Yui would've told somebody, and Pinkie wouldn't leave without Imma Wut.

Imma Wut was sniffing around too, having as much luck as Pfo. He didn't have the history with Chump that Pfo did, but he trusted him about as much. He was wandering around, informing anyone who'd listen of Pinkie's disappearance, and finding some sympathy too. Plus, Pfo suspected that Chump was meeting with LadMan in secret. LadMan had explicitly ordered them both to report tri-weekly, but was Chump meeting more often, whispering into LadMan's ear without Pfo to counter it?

Pfo couldn't give up yet. This is how the baddies prevail. It's easier to give up doing good, cause bad always seems to win. Confirmation bias, isn't it? A pessimist's mind playing pranks?

Pfo burst into Oxie's office. She was sitting there, sketching. Her whole room was filled with em, sketches, scattered, some done, some not. All of them, to Pfo's untrained eye, seemed supreme. Oxie leapt up in surprise.

–Oh, Pfo, you startled me. Sorry, I was just drawing…

–Oxie…

What to say? He'd come here almost out of instinct. Did he just want to sit and watch Oxie draw?

–I've been sketching a lot over these past few days, she said. Since we got back from the dungeons. Takes my mind off… everything. I know I should be thinking about these questions, but they seem too big. Pfo… what is that?

Pfo realized he was holding Chump's potion. Half empty. Or half full of healing. He had to admit it. He'd tried sprinkling it on himself, even eating some. All it did was good.

–Chump's new invention, said Pfo. Magical healing powder. Take a little and it makes you fit as a fiddle.

Pfo sighed.

–It's a good thing, honestly.

–You mind if I see?

Oxie took the bottle. She turned it around. She held it up to her window, studying it under the light.

–Do you eat it?

–Yes, or sprinkle it on a wound.

Oxie took out a tiny knife and sliced thinly and shallow in her forearm. The knife slid through her feathers and her yellow skin. Red blood seeped. Pfo cringed. How many Marshall's did SNAFU have?

–How much do you need? asked Oxie.

Her health sat at 95%.

–A pinch, said Pfo.

Oxie took the bottle and tilted it, letting a pinch of powder fall on her wound. A hissing, like grease in a pan. Oxie yelped and shook her arm. She was consumed with a burning, mind-blinding pain. Pfo stared in shock at her forearm, now sizzling like searing bacon, bubbling and popping, turning red. Oxie looked rapidly around. For water? For something. She dove into her bed and tried smothering her arm with her blanket. Pfo heard the sizzling continue for a second longer. Then it stopped.

Oxie removed the blanket and inspected her arm. It'd turned black, like charcoal, all the skin she'd sprinkled potion on burnt badder than bad. Worse than third-degree, like something out of a cartoon. But this skin smelt, and hurt like hell. Oxie whimpered. She poked the skin and reeled back, her mind searing. Worse than any kidney stone, any pregnancy. The game wasn't supposed to simulate pain like this.

–Pfo… said Oxie.

Tears fell from her eyes. Pfo stared, wide-eyed, at her quarter-full health bar.

–I don't understand… he muttered. It… it…

In desperation he grabbed the bottle and poured some on his own arm. Nothing but the green glowing and the cool, refreshing wave of pleasure.

–I don't get it… he said. It works for me… I saw Chump do it to himself. It-

It hit Pfo. He got it.

–It only heals humans, he muttered.

He didn't need to say the rest. He and Oxie got it.

Everyone else it kills.

---

–You don't need to worry about that, Lad, said Dan.

–If Chump is doing something important-

–No, it's nothing. We've just been working together on budget stuff. I know you have bigger things to deal with right now.

–If you say so, said LadMan. He reported to me that he's working on a new medicine?

–Oh, yeah. I think it's almost ready. I'll get him to bring you a sample the next time he reports. But hopefully we won't need it.

–Right, right.

–LadMan?

Erectio peeked in. His oversized eyes blinked, as if surprised to find Lad inside. As if he hadn't just left LadMan inside.

–What's up, Erectio?

–Lunar is here.

–Okay, send him in.

Lunar wore his Shadow Realm armor, that bulky set that clanged when he walked. He'd cut a bit off his mohawk but it still stuck up, bright purple. Same situation with the beard, cut but not too much. He sat.

–Thanks Erectio, said Dan, looking pointedly at the door.

Erectio dithered.

–He can stay, Dan, said LadMan.

Dan stepped back, frowning.

–So, Lunar, what do you have? LadMan asked.

–Geez, where to start? Lunar asked.

---

Where He Starts

as told by Belton Berkshire

Striker is gonna figure out we know.

---

–How? demanded Dan.

–Look, said Lunar, we weren't going to trick him forever. I'm still not sure we tricked him at all. He probably always assumed you guys knew everything.

–I thought we had him? What finally tipped him off? asked LadMan.

–He sent Gui a special code, said Lunar.

–So? That shouldn't matter, said Dan.

…

You're probably lost. Here's what you missed. Shortly after they turned Gui, Dan convinced LadMan to try and trick Striker. He wanted to buy as much time as possible before Striker figured out for sure that the Lads knew about the species-war. He feared that Striker had in place immediate contingency plans (he did) set to activate the moment he knew for sure that his ruse was discovered. Therefore, Dan attempted to stop him from finding out at all.

He set Lunar to the task. Lunar got Gui to send Striker a telegram telling him that he'd confirmed that the Sad Lads knew nothing about the library, and nothing about the people who intruded into it and captured Jamal. Lunar got Gui's assistance to compose a message that sounded as authentic as possible. Lunar encoded the message according to Gui's book and prepared to send it. Then Gui told him that he needed to add "FLEEK-footed" to the end of the message. The phrase meant nothing, but served as a dead man's switch. Striker instructed Gui to end all of his messages with the phrase, under the assumption that if he was captured and the Sad Lads forced him to send phony telegrams (exactly what was happening), Gui would omit the phrase, the Sad Lads wouldn't know to add it, and Striker would be tipped off. This was way above Lunar's thought-level (he hadn't even considered that Gui might make the message not match the tone or structure of his previous ones [Gui kept no copies, he'd burned all communications once he read them, and did the same to all copies of the ones he sent, thus, Lunar had no previous messages to compare the current one to] and tip Striker off in that way). Lunar grew skeptical, thinking that "FLEEK-footed" actually served as an alarm, but Gui begged and begged, telling him that he wanted nothing to do with Striker and only wanted to help the Sad Lads honest please don't kill him he never wanted any of this anyway he just wanted to play the game. Lunar decided to believe him and sent the message.

Striker responded favorably. It seemed like he'd fallen for the ruse. Then Clean came to Lunar with a thought: what if Striker sends someone to Brandonville to check for Jamal? It wouldn't be difficult to tell if Jamal was in the city. Simply send someone to Brandonville and see if Jamal was within friending range. If he was, they could safely assume the Sad Lads held him. Lunar hadn't thought of this, either. Jamal couldn't send messages (every limb he had was triple tied) but there was no way to hide him from being seen as in friending range. Lunar, hesitantly taking a page from the Striker-playbook, suggested that they send Jamal somewhere far off. Don't kill him, Lunar was quick to add, just send him somewhere where nobody would look. Dan arranged it.

Then Clean again: what if Striker sent someone to clock them? Lunar, herself, and Dan? Even if they had unfriended everyone in FLEEK, someone could come within friending range of the palace and clearly clock Lunar, Clean, and Dan. None of them wanted to run off to the wilderness, so Lunar tried another jabait. He had Gui send a message claiming that he'd discovered the true identities of the library-intruders. Striker of course suspected Lunar, Clean, and (particularly) Dan, as he'd been watching them in Merse, but Gui sent a message saying that it hadn't been them. The trio had been suspicious of Striker (Lunar didn't think he could get away claiming they'd been there for some other reason), but hadn't found anything. In fact, they came back to Brandonville and cleared Striker completely. Lunar made sure to feed Striker some bullshit story about the cop he sent to arrest them. Then Gui gave Striker the real names of the intruders: Lying_Ted, Soren_Kierkegaard, and ScreamKing. They were rogue Lads with some grudge against Striker, nobody in the Sad Lads took them seriously. And they hadn't come back to Brandonville since they'd kidnapped Jamal. Gui had no idea where they were, their names only came up "location unknown" when their friends searched for them.

This ruse also seemed to work. For several tense days it seemed Striker thought things were normal. Then, the A-Team arrived back in Brandonville. The Sad Lads tried their damndest to keep this fact from Striker, but certain A-Team/FLEEKers, such as DetectiveJizznos, grew angry and suspicious, wanting to know why LadMan had recalled them from their dungeoning and why everyone was seemingly trying to prevent him from going through the teleporter and hitting up his boys in Merse. We need you ready to move at any time, they told him. This dungeon-break is only temporary. I only wanna go a few hours, he'd respond. Well, the teleporter doesn't work, Dan finally said. It's broken. But this only made Jizznos more suspicious. Deus and LadMan, after Dan's continued pleading, gave Detective Jizznos and a few other troublemakers nonsense jobs. They were to go north and check for a dungeon near a pond.

The ruse continued confounding Striker until he sent a single lined telegram. A row of eights, followed by a six. Lunar looked in the codebook but couldn't crack it, so he took it to Gui to see what he had to say. Gui, upon seeing, went pale.

–He's telling me to go back to Merse, said Gui. That's the emergency code. If I don't show up in Merse by- what time is it?

Lunar checked his watch.

–Five fifteen.

–If I don't show up by six he'll know I'm compromised and he'll cut all contact.

–What? Forty five minutes? That's crazy. We'll just send a message saying you can't come right away. The teleporters aren't working, it would be impossible for you to get there anway.

–He- he…

Gui looked like he was about to cry.

–He doesn't care. He's figured us out… me out… he's just telling me that he got me. If I did go back there, he'd just kill me anyway. I… but you guys are going to fight him, right? Oh God, why did it have to happen like this?

Gui melted.

---

–Striker's such a cunt, said Dan.

–He got us, said Lunar. I still think he's known all along. He wouldn't have missed the significance of the teleporters going down, even with the bullshit story Gui fed him.

–Now we know without any doubt where we all stand, said Dan. Honestly, I'm glad. It makes things much simpler.

–I'll send Striker a message, LadMan announced.

–Lad-

–I'm sick of all this trickery, said LadMan. Dan, you… and Chump, whatever you've been meeting about, behind my back.

Dan looked down, ashamed.

–And Lunar doing all this. And this stuff with poor Gui. And sending away Jamal, and tricking so many of the A-Team. I can't do it anymore. This isn't my wheelhouse. Dan, you know this.

–Yeah, Lad, that's why you have me.

–There has to be a limit, said Lad. We have to be able to get together and talk, at some point. I'm the leader of the Sad Lads, basically the leader of the humans. I'll talk to Striker and work this out.

–You can't work it out, Lad, said Dan. Don't be retarded.

–No, I will work it out, said LadMan. Dan, you're not in charge. Stop acting like you are. I'm going to Merse. Actually, I'll go to Merse with Gui.

–Going to Merse yourself? said Lunar, incredulous.

–Yes, myself. With Gui, as a gesture of good faith. You said he wanted to go see Striker, right? So he could talk some sense into him?

–Yes, but-

–Then we'll do it together.

–Lad, he'll kill you, Dan shouted.

Erectio had been slouching in the corner through most of this. LadMan turned to him.

–Erectio, you'll come, too, he declared.

–Huh?

–And we'll bring Ty. Where is Ty right now? And maybe Woman too. He's a Meria… and a Lad. It'll be a multi-species coalition, all going to talk to Striker. We'll-

–No, you won't! shouted Dan.

–Excuse me?

–You won't do that, Lad, because that's a retarded fucking idea.

–I'm in charge, here, Dan, and-

–Fuck that, you shouldn't be!

LadMan froze.

–You don't listen to me, said Dan. I've been right about everything so far, but you don't listen to me. I told you Striker was full of shit. I told you not to listen to him. I told you not to listen to all the other Lads.

–They're the Lads-

–They're full of shit, Lad! You used to listen to me. When we first got stuck in this fucking game, all anybody wanted to do was sit around in that fucking house. I kept saying we had to move, but nobody listened to me, did they?

–You were the one who first suggested we go into a house!

–For a night! We stayed there for days! Because of that, we didn't have any food or water. We got desperate for water, and Muffy got killed because of it.

–Don't you dare blame me for Muffy. We had no idea her injury was that serious. And you didn't know about the food system, either.

–I'm the one who discovered the system, Lad, said Dan. If I hadn't found it, we would've sat in that house until we starved to death. We wouldn't even have known what was happening.

–I'm not arguing about this, said Lad. Erectio, message Ty and Woman. Tell them to meet us outside the palace. And get Gui too. We'll send a message ahead of us and then set off on our diplomatic mission.

Lunar glanced at Dan. The Lad looked sad.

–Okay, Lad, you're right, Dan said, his voice hollow. You're in charge. Good luck on your mission.

–I'll be back soon, said LadMan, his voice softening. I'll make sure nobody starts a war. Don't worry.

–I'm not worried, Lad. I know you can do it.

Lad left. Erectio followed. Lunar glanced again at Dan. The boy had his menu open. He scrunched his eyes, sniffled, and typed furiously. All the while his whole body seemed to twitch.

---

You put your face too close to the light. So close you can see the pixels that compose reality. You look closer, closer, until one pixel dominates your entire vision, your entire world, your entire reality. That one pixel is all, the alpha and omega. But not really. You know there are other pixels, somewhere. Right? Causality is limited. Knowledge can't reach you. Your single pixel, the tiny info it provides…

Think about it. You have just one pixel, while the whole screen, maybe an infinite number of screens, blares videos, shifts and morphs from text to text, images and announcements. But you see just your pixel. So when it changes from color to color you wonder, is that what reality is? an endless string of colors, meaningless, messageless at this size.

You're inside, and you want to get out. But you can't, cause you're stuck, fuck you, learn to deal with it. What other choice do you have? Baking your brain might get you out, it might not, depends on who you ask. Nobody who's done it can tell you. They either don't remember or don't exist.

Brandonville can't do anything but burn. Some cities exist for that purpose. Built up by people who, presumably, thought they'd last, only to fall to ash before their eyes. The image burns itself onto the film. It's not hard to imagine a city burning down.

Pfo and co had already confiscated the teleporter crystal. Striker didn't have evidence of this, but he'd deduced it. He wanted to prevent the humans from having complete control over the teleporter network. Whenever they wanted they could pop in the crystal, teleport all over, then take it out.

A small mob surrounded the Brandonville teleporter tower. They screamed abuse at Zweister, who (no Zyron) had initially tried to calmly explain himself but eventually resorted to barricading himself in the teleporter tower only because he legit had no better ideas. The mob was a bunch of peeps pissed that they couldn't teleport. It was a convenience thing, just like learning that your flight got delayed. One player lurked among them. He'd been in Brandonville all this time, doing not much of nothing. Then he got a fateful slip that spelled an immediate need. He jostled his way through the crowd and jiggled the front door's handle.

–No use, buddy, it's locked, said one of the players.

If it's no use, why are you here? he thought. He pushed out of the crowd and disappeared around the tower's back. A few minutes later a careful observer (of which there were none) would have noticed him slipping away, seeming to disappear into the forest's long, afternoon shadows.

Then the tower exploded. Ripped from its very foundation, it seemed like, like a great beast was rising out of the ground and thrusting everything under which it had lived into the air. Stone and dust and dirt rained down. The players were flung back. Most died from the concussive blast. A few died due to debris. The rare survivor lay on the grass, shivering and bleeding under the Sun. The Sad Lads stationed at the teleporter, some distance away at their booth, sustained minor injuries and, once recovered, raced off towards Brandonville, firing off messages the whole time. They left the blown out remains of the tower to smolder, the players to groan, the forest to look on, shocked, awed, heart and mind buzzing and reeling.

---

Somebody panicked. Was it a Sad Lad? Probably, in one way or another. You know how it goes. The entropy of information, increasing over time and space. Stuff decays to a baser state. We'll come back for a time, but eventually light loses the will to fight. That must piss off the cyclists. Always shining such.

Brandonville erupted. It would burn bright, then, when all the fuel was gone, it would go dark.

---

–Dan, you bastard! LadMan screamed.

The NPC's boot pressed his cheek into the stone. Ty had struggled, but he was quickly brought down. Erectio tried to jet away, but lost control of his jetpack, crashed into the ground, and got cuffed with a tenth of his health. Woman, trying to keep composure, surrendered peacefully. LadMan struggled the most.

–Dan, fuckyou! I'm in charge! Do you hear me? Let me go, I won't allow you to start a fucking war!

The NPC called for backup. Two more came and restrained LadMan while the first cuffed him. The palace guards, loyal to the Lads but apparently not to the man, watched and did nothing.

–Dan!

The NPCs dragged LadMan back into the palace. One might like to think that Dan stood watching, through an upper floor window. Watching as his sent-soldiers detained his friend. But Dan was in a windowless room, surrounded by his advisors, messaging Chumpchange, ordering the immediate start of all pre-planned contingency measures. Peace is for buttfucked liberal bisexuals. War is the motherfucking answer. Not Dan's fault. Necessity.

---

SNAFU under siege. Chump and chumps had barricaded themselves inside his office. Pfo and his followers, crowded outside, banged on the door and shouted. The other academics, too confused to take a side, huddled in clumps outside the manor.

–Come out of there, Chump! yelled Healthy Man. We aren't having this any longer!

–Pfo, you're fucking huge, dog, break that door down and drag that man out, said Jmar.

Pfo thought about it. Then he crashed into the door. It creaked and cracked but didn't break open.

–He stacked a bunch of shit behind it, said Dead Dude.

–Chump, tell me where Pinkie is and we won't hurt you! shouted Imma Wut.

–We don't have Pinkie, came a muffled shout.

–Rubbish, they got him somewhere, said Imma Wut.

–We're sick of all these lies, Chump, said Oxie. Come out and explain yourself.

–Why won't they come out? asked Dead Dude. They don't have any other options.

Someone shouted outside the manor. A gunshot rang off. Pfo heard horses.

–Stay here, he said to his peeps.

With Oxie in tow he rushed down the stairs, three steps at a time, and burst out onto the porch. He found hundreds of NPCs and a few armed players rounding up the academics. They poked and prodded with bayonets, threatened with fire, and shot into the air for effect. Other scattered academics were being chased down by mounted men with sabers and pistols. A squad of soldiers ran past Pfo, into the manor. At the head of all this, sitting in the back of the Sad Lads' car: Dan, clothed in a ridiculous officer's uniform complete with shining medals. A pistol hung at his side.

–Dan! shouted Pfo. What the hell is this?

–I could ask you the same thing, said Dan as Pfo approached. Some of these players tell me Chump has locked himself in his office?

–He needs to answer for some things, said Pfo.

–He can answer later, said Dan. I need him right now.

–Dan, he's abducted people.

–Did he abduct humans?

–What does that matter? asked Oxie.

Pfo was frozen.

–I don't have time for this, said Dan.

He motioned to an NPC.

–Detain both of them. And will somebody hurry up and get Chumpchange? I need my dust!

---

The Brandonville violence wasn't audible from the palace. But LadMan could see it. From his room, out of his window, huge plumes of black smoke rose up from below him. He remembered his initial Brandonville impression. How unstable the city seemed. If the bottom burned, would the top follow? It stood to reason.

He had the radio on. The NPC spoke fast.

Empress Xia has declared martial law in Brandonville, Chancellorsburg, and surrounding areas. All citizens are to stay indoors and comply fully with authorities. This includes Begotten. I will repeat, everyone is to stay indoors and comply fully with authorities.

We've received word that the Defense Minister has moved to the Brandonville area to take control of operations in that area. The Imperial Guard has been mobilized, but we aren't sure yet of where-

LadMan turned the radio off.

---

–That retard Dan better deal with this quickly! Deus shouted over the riot's roar.

Cycler peered out of the window, at the crowds far below. He half feared his modest apartment would go up in flames. He was a decorator at heart. Putting together a living space calmed him. He'd dumped no small amount of time and money into his place. Seeing it burn would suck.

–You sure we should do this, Deus? Cycler stammered. I mean…

–It's too late now, Deus said.

–But even if we don't warn Kitty and them… we could warn Charlemagne, right? I mean, at least the Crusaders-

–It's too late, Cycler!

–They could leave. They don't have to stay. Just go and not bother anyone.

Deus opened his menu.

–Message from Dan, he said. SNAFU U is our new base of operations. Make sure the human Crusaders get there.

–Deus-

–It's too late!

---

Lunar hadn't arrived in time. He'd realized after witnessing Dan and Lad's scuffle what Dan intended to do. But he wasn't fast enough.

He, Clean, Charles, and Beb watched as twenty NPC soldiers dragged Kitty and Ricardio away.

–¡Gilipollas! Ricardio shouted.¡Todos ustedes!

Beb's eyes were red. His nose ran. His cheeks were bright. Lunar had told him, as they rushed towards Kitty and Ricardio, the whole story.

Beb wanted so badly to jump the NPCs. Slice them up and free his friends.

–We'll talk to Dan, Lunar whispered to him. Don't worry. We'll get them out. We don't need to start a fight over it.

–You're the only one that thinks that'll get us anywhere, muttered Clean.

Lunar clenched his teeth and kept his eyes forward.

–Why are they doing this? Kitty shouted. Why are you letting them? Beb! Charles! Belton!

–¡Quitame a estos cabrones!

---

–We need to move fast! Dan shouted over the roar of the airship's engines.

Chump, next to him in the car, nodded.

–I want to get someone talking to this Empress Xia as soon as possible, Dan continued. Her soldiers are already moving towards Brandonville. We'll let them do the bulk of the securing for now. All the human players will be safe at SNAFU.

–What about LadMan? asked Chump.

–We'll get him, said Dan. We'll get him soon.

Then,

–We also need to get the Lads' money out of the banks. Better to have it safe at SNAFU.

–Could use it, Chump said simply.

An NPC ran up to them. He wore goggles and held his hat.

–The airship is ready, sir. Permission to take off?

–Go, said Dan. They know the operation. Give them the all clear.

–Very good, sir, shouted the NPC.

–Back to SNAFU, said Dan, waving to his car's driver. Let's go.

Dan and Chump sped away from the Brandonville airstrip. The massive airship released its steel anchor cables and ascended. Up, up. Its peaceful ascent betraying its purpose.

---

–LadMan? Come on, we have to do something.

LadMan looked up. Slick and Brostein before him.

–Do what? he asked.

–Something. Anything. All the non-human players are being arrested. The whole city is tearing itself apart. If we just sit here a war is going to break out.

–It's already broken out, said Lad.

–Then we stop it, insisted Brostein.

–How? asked LadMan. What am I supposed to do? Striker always meant to fight this war. Dan is right, we don't have a choice. We have to fight it.

–That can't be the only way out, said Slick. You heard Lunar, there has to be other ways out of the game.

–He doesn't actually believe that, said LadMan. He was just saying that to get Gui to talk.

–Well I believe it, Lad, said Slick. And Brostein believes it. What about our library? What about the special libraries? Are we really going to fight each other before we've found anything else?

–Agh!

LadMan pulled at his purple hair.

–But what can I do? I can't do anything. I could never do anything.

–Lad, you know that's not true.

–It is true! It is. I… you guys go… go and look for the other libraries.

–There's no point if everyone is fighting.

–It'll stop the fighting, said Lad. There's… we have to fight, I think. But then we can stop.

–Lad, you're not making any sense.

–Go, just go! said LadMan. You can do it, Slick. Here, take this.

He handed her a slip of paper.

–What's this?

–The bank account information. Take whatever money you need and go find the other libraries. I can…

LadMan couldn't finish the thought.

–Come with us, Lad, said Slick.

–No… I have to stay. I think the NPCs outside are supposed to stop me if I try to leave. It doesn't matter. It's for the best. Go. Get us out of here. Go.

---

The airship floated over Brandonville, dumping vast quantities of Chump's new potion on the people below. The humans, players and NPCs alike, faltered, watching, reckoning as their skin glowed green and felt fine, as their whole body seemed restored, their soul rejuvenated. The others, if they couldn't retreat inside in time, rolled around on the street, screaming, sizzling, until they came to a sudden stop. Their contorted bodies frozen in their death poses, like so many Romans undone by the Vesuvian blast, burnt pitch black, flaky, liable to disintegrate into ash with but a touch.

---

Chapter THIRTY-ONE

Forget the Second Coming

---

The argument: Some of the long gone return, led by unlikely leaders.

---

–The fuck is this bullshit? demanded Vac, looking up as the sky above Chancellorsburg literally ripped in two. He was vaguely aware of a message beep, but he couldn't take his eyes off the sky. From the tear poured pure yellow goo, liquid light, a cut in God's body bleeding somesort of ambrosial blood. The liquid fell and flooded the Chancellorsburg spawn square, bathing everything and everyone until it all sparkled. Despite the force of its fall it hardly seemed threatening. It felt like tuned-temp shower water after a long day. Vac and Coke, by happenstance in the square, let it cover them. It felt like renewal. Vac let some pour into his mouth. The sweetest, smoothest swea tea, homemade grandma sort, made special for you to sip while you sat on her back porch, watching the cows graze in the rolling pasture. Not too sweet, but not bitter, with a little lemon. Perfected by years of tea-brewing, sitting in a sweating glass with clanking ice cubes.

The liquid left as if it'd never been. Dissipated, a blink and miss it disappearance. The sky's wound was closed, and in its place were several dozen hot air balloons; golden, shining. Striking against the now dull blue sky and wispy clouds. The balloons slowly descended, on course to land in the spawn square.

–Is this… scripted? Coke asked.

Him and Vac used all their magnification to peer at the balloons. The baskets contained people, but they couldn't gather details beyond that. They withdrew to the square's edge and waited for the balloons to land.

---

–It's a patch, Coke said.

–What? asked Vac.

–The message. You got a message, right?

Vac tore his eyes from the balloons, still so high, and opened his menu. He found, so reminiscent of that day months prior, a message from the Devs.

Dear Players,

Congratulations on triggering the "World War" event. With this event comes a new patch, boasting new content and features. As always, no action is required on your part. You may experience slight NPC lag for the next five minutes.

Patch Notes

1.0.5

Features

• Species Champions have been sent to the Overworld
• Ascended have been sent back to the Overworld
• Players can now purchase a variety of useful items in the item shop. Items rotate on a weekly basis.
• Added new quest, "Save Dolores II"
• Added new songs for bards in Meria inns

Fixes

• Fixed a bug that made the Frostia Holy Library inaccessible
• Fixed a bug that required the Apathia antidote to be administered daily instead of just once
• Fixed a bug that gifted items to players using "Streaming Services" even if no viewers purchased said items

Balance

• Increased the Maxim Gun fire-rate
• Significantly decreased the amount of money made by closing Wisteria shipping contracts
• Decreased damage done by Big Goblin class monsters
• Further nerfed Giant Boars

---

Dan found, added to his menu, a new tab labeled "Item Shop." He clicked it. Wonderful items paraded before him. Crazy weapons, armor, mounts, crafting ingredients, decorations, ammunition, costumes, potions…

He clicked to purchase an item, a powerful revolver. He was told he lacked sufficient Fanget Dollars. He was asked if he wanted to purchase Fanget Dollars. He selected "yes" and another menu appeared, asking him to input his credit card information.

–Those fucking Jews, unbelievable, he said.

---

The balloons landed gently. Then they dissipated, dissolving into golden dust until only their occupants remained: players, splendiferous, regal, well armed and armored, clumped in the groups they'd rode down in.

Vac and Coke stared as the aeronauts got their bearings. Should they raise weapons? Then Vac saw her.

Tall, in shining gold and silver armor. Huge, white mechanical wings folded on her back. An industrial angel. She carried a long red spear and a yellow kite shield. Vac wanted her to unfold her wings, soar up above, a golden Valkyrie above her shining army. Jean_dark.

She came to him, slowly, smiling sadly. He could hear Coke, beside him, sobbing. Then, he noticed next to her, all the others. Had he died? Had to have. Knocked out without knowing it, fast-tracked past Peter, into the realm of the unreal.

Next to Jean walked Lying Ted, in thick, leather-colored armor. He had a black submachine gun slung at his back. Then, Mufferson next to him. She wore a serious face. The same short hair, the same chubby, happy features; but rapidly matured, shoved through trials and brute forced to competency. A rapier rapped her hip as she walked.

In the center of them all, a red-headed woman in segmented armor, carrying two pistols in holsters and a giant, glowing sword in a sheath, shouting commands. She too had wings, but golden and smaller.

–I don't understand, stammered Vac. Is this… how are they back?

The red-headed woman, the leader, practically dragged a man behind her.

–Hey, autismo, called Ted.

He, Jean, and Muffy came to stand before them. The other two hundred or so humans spread around the square, forming a defensive perimeter. Many of them opened their menus and set to shooting out messages.

–Ted, I thought you were dead, said Vac.

–Honestly, I thought you were gonna die too. But Jean told me she saved you at the last moment.

Jean smiled sweetly. Vac couldn't bear it.

–Jean…

–Vac, I'm so sorry about your other friends, she said. Ted told me a lot about them. They were good people.

–Wait… Scream and Soren aren't with you?

Ted shook his head.

–Didn't ascend, bruh. Sucks, I know.

–Ascend?

–Jean, so good to see you okay, said Coke, still crying.

–Oh, Coke… good to see you… didn't know you were in Fanget…

–Is Shook okay? asked Mufferson, unable to wait any longer.

–Um… yeah, as far as I know, said Vac. I… still don't understand…

–I ascended, Vac, she said. If you die and you dissolve, you ascend. If not… But Shook is okay?

–Yeah, he's fine.

–What about x86? asked Ted. She didn't ascend. Is she okay?

–I… I dunno, said Vac. I've never seen her. I… kinda figured she died.

–Didn't ascend, said Ted with a sigh.

–But… most of the Lads are okay, I think, said Vac.

–Well, that can't quite be true, can it?

The red-headed woman had arrived. The kid she'd dragged behind her was promptly tossed to the ground. He wore the finest armor of them all, a gleaming gold, something fit for a god. But it didn't save him from looking like an absolute idiot. On his back: a too-long black katana. On his belt: no fewer than ten pistols, a pirate king taking things too far. On his back: a bolt action with a long scope, and a double barrel shotgun. On his chest, attached via straps: five fragmentation grenades and ten throwing stars. On his right boot: a long dagger. On his right shoulder: three throwing knives. Absurd, like a poor soldier being punished by running a course with a fireteam's worth of gear. Every move resulted in clanging and banging of half a dozen pieces. Vac and Coke took a step back as the kid was tossed on the ground, for fear that he'd literally explode. They didn't know that frags couldn't blow up accidently.

–The Lads can't be okay, can they? asked the red-head. Unless they won the war before it started.

–War? Who are you? Who is this?

–Jean, we're getting to Brandonville, said the red-head. Let's deploy according to plan. You two, how long since the war started?

–What war? Vac asked again.

–Not long then.

–Who are you?

–Jesus Christ, I don't have time for this. I'm Andykey. You can see my username, can't you?

–Yeah, but that doesn't explain-

–I don't have to explain. Too much to do. Now tell me, what day is it?

–Uh… Wednesday?

–Jesus. Okay, listen. I was part of the A-Team, the guys sent to clear the dungeons. Heard of them?

–You were a Cuntry Crusader, said Vac, his face lighting up. I remember you. You went with us from Chancellorsburg to Brandonville… on the river.

–Yes, that was me. I was also a part of the A-Team. Did you hear about them losing a few players? Outrage said that was big news around Chancellorsburg.

–Who's Outrage?

–The last human player to ascend, okay? It doesn't matter. Did you hear about the A-Team thing, yes or no?

–Try and be patient with them, Andy, they're confused, said Jean.

–We don't have time for confusion, said Andy. The others are already moving, I bet. A-Team, yes or no?

–Uh… yeah, Coke and I heard about some deaths in the dungeons…

–Okay, how long ago was that?

–Not that long… a few weeks?

–Jesus, said Andy. Muff, you were right about the time thing.

–I… I still… stammered Vac.

–We'll bring you up to speed, Vac, said Ted. But we need to get to the human's center of power. Is that still LadMan in Brandonville?

–As far as I know, said Vac. I… I haven't been keeping up to date…

–Something had to trigger the war, said Andy. Unless some morons triggered it by accident. Either way, we need to get to Brandonville. I'm going with the advanced team. Mufferson, you good?

–All set, said Muff.

–Good, someone get Outrage. I want us gone in two minutes. Jean, standard plan. Take the vanguard to Brandonville ASAP. Get as many humans from here as you can in the main force. March as soon as you can. Any non-humans in Chancellorsburg get no mercy. No time for all that.

–We'll do what we have to do, said Jean, her face dark. No unnecessary atrocities.

–Dammit Jean, it's all necessary at this point. Outrage!

Her scream reached him. Outrage, a tall man with impossibly thin limbs, wearing a robe and carrying a short staff, came sprinting over.

–Sorry, Andy, had to check in with some of my peeps-

–Later, later, damn it. We're going right now.

–Step back, Vac, said Jean sweetly.

Vac and Coke did so. The others as well. Andy, Mufferson, and Outrage unfolded their wings, bent down, then shot into the air at superspeed. Vac had never seen something so fast. The force of their blast-off sent vague but piping hot energy onto the square below them, burning Vac and Coke's exposed skin. Vac watched, but within moments they had jetted out of sight.

–You haven't seen Fanget's endgame, Ted said to Vac once the latter recovered from his shock and burns. Shit is fucking whack.

---

Dan stood in front of SNAFU U, shouting at Deus, Cycler, and the other human Crusaders.

–You'll do it because I told you to! he said. Something is going on… I don't know what the fuck it is… you need to get to Chancellorsburg and make sure nothing there is fucked up!

–We don't even know if this patch has anything to do with Chancellorsburg, said Cycler.

–The patches always have something to do with Chancellorsburg, said Dan, the veins on his forehead popping. His whole face seemed poised to explode.

–Chancellorsburg is our fucking spawn town, he continued. Get over there.

–Fuck off, you sperg, said Deus. Get Bobby to do it. We're staying here until I am sure the non-human Crusaders are going to be fine.

–They aren't going to be fine, said Dan. They're our enemies. Do you understand anything?

–Straight up, I'm about to fucking hit you, said Deus. I already let you lock them up. Some fucking decision that was. Serves me right to trust a fucking retard like you-

–Deus, look!

Deus looked up. He saw nothing. Andy, Muff, and Outrage smashed into the ground too fast. The force of their landing literally blew Dan, Deus, and the others off their feet; sent them sprawling.

Once the dust cleared Andy, Muff, and Outrage stood fine, casually folding their wings in unison. Andy looked with extreme derision at Dan and Deus, struggling to their feet.

–Good call, Outrage, she said.

–SNAFU is second only to Brandonville, he said. It's logical somebody would be here.

Andy stomped over to Dan and picked him up by the collar.

–What the fuck is going on? he managed to stutter.

–I'd like to know the same thing, said Andy. Why exactly is Brandonville on fucking fire?

–Soldiers… stammered Dan. Restrain-

Andy bitch slapped him then dropped him on the ground.

–Where is LadMan? she demanded. Is he here?

The sound of their landing had drawn the interest of the academics (the ones Chump and Dan hadn't locked up). They peeked through windows and around corners. Two particular SNAFU scholars who saw the trio didn't stay hidden.

–Muffy! screamed Shooketh, sprinting towards her, Doughy hot behind him.

–Shooketh, thank God, said Mufferson.

The two kids crashed together, hugging madly. Shooketh sobbed freely. But Mufferson ended the embrace sooner than Shooketh would've liked.

–I don't understand, said Doughy, his smile extending beyond his face. This is great… I mean… this is amazing… the best… but… how? Dan, do you see this?

Dan saw it. He also saw Andy towering above him. His cheek stung.

–Andy, you survived the dungeon, said Deus. What about-

–I didn't survive, she said. I died. So did Hector. And before you ask, no, he isn't with me.

Chump peeked out an upper window. The silhouette of Sleepr behind him. Chump's eyes landed on Mufferson.

–Oh… oh I get it, he said. Oh… this could be bad. Sleepr, did any of our humans dematerialize?

–I don't think… said Sleepr, thinking hard.

–Check the notes, please, said Chump. Now, Sleepr!

Back on the ground.

–I don't get it, said Deus. Andy, how are you back?

–Fine, fine, I'll explain this once, she said. Honestly, it's probably faster to explain it than to trust you idiots to do what I say. Deus, did you intentionally trigger the war?

–The… species war?

–Good, so you know about that. You know everything Striker told us was bullshit?

–I found that out, thank you, said Dan. While you retards crawled through the dungeons-

Andy bitch slapped him again.

–Okay, so fighting has started between the species? Andy asked Deus.

–Yeah… unfortunately.

–Okay, we're getting somewhere. You read the patch notes, I assume?

–They added a cash shop, the fucking Jews, said Dan.

He scurried back before Andy could bitch slap him a third time.

–They sent the Ascended and the Champions to the overworld, Andy said. That's us.

–You're the Champions? asked Deus.

–No… I'm an Ascended. Okay… here's the quickest version I can give. When the first patch hit, one player from each species was picked at random to be that species' Champion. They immediately got teleported to this other realm. It's like… this big… training facility, essentially. The idea is that the Champion spends all this time training and leveling and then, when the players in the overworld trigger the war, they come down to lead their species.

–So who's our Champion? asked Deus.

–Chill, dude, I'll get to that. The other part of it is, when a player dies, they have a chance to ascend. If they ascend, they go to this realm and train with their Champion. If they don't ascend… well… I don't know what happens if they don't ascend. They're just dead, I guess. Anyway, once you chucklefucks trigger the war, we all come here and fight it together. Supposedly we could've figured all this out in the overworld, but, well… you know Deadeye. Half their shit never makes any sense.

–How did you learn all this? asked Deus while Dan muttered that he'd figured out some of that.

–There's a building in the other realm that explains it all, said Andy. It's got, like, a big mural.

–What about the other species' Champions? asked Dan. How was the war triggered? Do you kn-

–One at a time, for Christ's sake, said Adny. I don't know exactly what triggers the war, but it's supposed to be when some number of players kill each other. Basically, once you figure out the Challenge is a deathmatch and start actually fighting it, the war will trigger. I personally thought you morons would trigger it by accident, but I guess not. And yes, we do know the other species' Champions. Or, at least, some of us do. We all shared the realm together, but you couldn't kill or be killed, so that wasn't an issue. But by the time I got there, the different species avoided each other and tried to sabotage each other's training. At first, nobody knew what the Challenge was, or why they were in the realm. They just had a message from the Devs telling them to train and level. So Sparrow and some of the earlier deaths, like Mufferson, know the other Champions pretty well. But then they discovered the mural and things fell apart.

–Who's Sparrow? asked Dan.

–Sparrow… God… Sparrow is our Champion, said Andy with a sigh. But he's not going to help us.

–Why?

–He's a squeaker, said Outrage.

–What?

–He's like, twelve.

–Twelve! Dan and Deus both shouted.

–He's extremely underleveled compared to the other Champions, said Andy. Honestly, the humans in the other realm were in a real shitty state until some of the later Ascended got there and told them about Beb, Charles, and some of the other stuff we have going for us. Where are Beb and Charles?

–Brandonville, probably? said Deus.

–We have to get them, said Andy. And LadMan. Right now. The other Champions aren't jokes like ours. The Wisteria one is a psycho, but he's good, and the Meria one is fucking competent.

–We've got weapons you don't know about, said Dan. You haven't heard about our new potion. And Chump is working on other stuff.

–Great, so they'll kick our asses while we underestimate everything, said Andy. You don't understand, time in the other realm didn't match time here. I was there for a few months. Mufferson's been in there for more than a year.

Dan looked at the Lad. Her, Shooketh, and Doughy had gone to the porch steps, where they sat, talking. Shooketh still seeped tears of joy, and Doughy still smiled wide, but Mufferson seemed… sad? Regretful?

–The other Champions have had way too long to train, said Andy. Beb and Charles combined probably couldn't even beat one of them. So do you get it? Do you get why we need to gather all our resources right the fuck now?

–Where are all the other… Ascended? Deus asked.

–They spawn in the spawn towns. I've got people in Chancellorsburg gathering as many humans as possible. This area seems safe. Is it?

–I personally secured it, said Dan.

–It's our new HQ, said Andy. You said Beb and Charles are in Brandonville? And LadMan?

–He's in the palace, said Dan.

–Fine, we're going to get them. Mufferson, we're going!

Mufferson stood up.

–Em, wait, cried Shooketh.

–I have to go, she said. I'll be fine. You stay here, I'll come back soon. I promise.

–Agh, fine, I'm going too, said Deus.

Andy raised an eyebrow.

–I've gotta save some of the Crusaders, he said. And Andy, you're a Crusader too, in case you forgot.

–Not quite, said Andy, showing a hint of a smile.

–Okay, I'm coming, said Dan. I need to get LadMan. Plus all our money is in a bank there.

–I don't want non-combat people slowing us down, said Andy.

–It's not a combat zone, protested Dan.

–Then why is it on fire?

–Chumpchange and I pacified it, said Dan. We dropped Chump's potion. All the non-humans are dealt with. And the NPC army is already moving in to restore order.

Andy glanced at Deus. He nodded.

–It was a shitshow, he said. But it's calmed down now. Cycler, you're coming too.

–Oh God… you sure?

–The other Crusaders need our help, man, said Deus.

–We've wasted enough time, said Andy. Let's get gone. I doubt you guys will keep up. Just follow behind us as best you can. Oh, and stand back when we take off.

---

With doubtful feet and wavering resolution / I came, still dreading thy displeasure…

Pfo would know those lines. He'd written an honors thesis on the subject, titled "Samson: Christ, Anti-Christ, or Anti-Anti-Christ?" But Lunar, for all his literature, wouldn't have placed them. It didn't matter. Milton couldn't save him. All Milton could do, as he and his few fellows descended into the palace dungeons, was give him something sad to think about.

He, Clean, Beb, and Charles passed by, in their cells: Erectio, lying on a hard cot, half naked as usual, staring at a stone wall; Gui, crossed legged on the floor, slouched; Misty and Shout, sharing a cell and sleeping; Ty, his hand bloody from punching the wall; and Woman, eyes big and empty, staring straight ahead.

Nobody spoke as they passed by. Lunar tried looking apologetic. He meant to show that he didn't care for the current situation, either. But what nonsense, when they were in and he was out.

It's not fair, Lunar thought, we're all trapped. We're all in. But Lunar, people can be more or less trapped. There may be a binary of trapped/not-trapped, but if nobody satisfies the second, then that binary ceases to mean anything. We're all in meat, or on Earth, or trapped by the simple lack of light-speed and beyond. You're all in a game, but they're in a cell in a game, and you're not.

It's not my fault, thought Lunar. I didn't lock them up. I messaged Dan, tried to convince him to let us let them out.

And he said no. You tried the milquetoast means. What will you do now?

Lunar got to the end of the hallway. Sitting in two cells, side by side: Kitty and Ricardio, looking at the floor. Kitty perked up when she saw Lunar and the others, but Ricardio only scowled and returned his eyes to the floor.

Their only light: a dim lantern in the hallway, wall-mounted, protected by a metal cage. Ricardio's hands and feet were bound. Kitty, in addition to her arms being bound, had on her hands heavy, black gloves, apparently to prevent her from casting spells.

–No hables con estos bastardos, said Ricardio.

–Callate, said Kitty.

They spoke fast, but Lunar got the gist.

–Y'all… don't worry, said Beb. We gonna get you out. We tried to message Dan, but… well.. we gonna go talk to him in person. We gonna convince him.

–You Dan's bitch boy, now, Beb? asked Ricardio, ignoring his own Español-advice.

–No, Ricardio, you-

–Beb the bitch-boy, that's what I'm gonna call you from now on.

–What you want us to do? said Beb, his voice breaking.

–Let us out of these fucking cells, for a start, said Ricardio.

–We don't have the keys-

–Break us out, you retard. Or force them to give you the keys. You have two hundred levels on all of them, what the fuck are they gonna do?

–We… we can't, said Beb. I wanna… but we can't start a fight with the Sad Lads.

–You gonna side with the Sad Lads over us?

–We ain't siding with nobody!

That was a poor choice of words. Beb didn't mean it, he desperately wanted to break Ricardio and Kitty out. Lunar had convinced him to restrain himself for now. Charles too advised caution.

–Not siding with us, unbelievable, said Ricardio. Bitch boy. Just fuck off.

–Stop it, said Kitty. None of this is their fault.

–Dice el traidor a la gente.

–Fuck off with that! cried Kitty, suddenly. No tienes una propiedad especial sobre mi.

–I think we missed something, muttered Charles.

–Ustedes carbones se pierden todo, said Ricardio.

–Please stop talking Spanish, pleaded Beb. I don't know what y'all saying.

–That's the point, retard, said Ricardio.

He crossed his arms and looked away, seemingly content for the moment.

–What's going on out there, Belton? Kitty asked.

–It's… it's a disaster, said Lunar.

He couldn't bear to look at her. He remembered all the times he'd seen her at his house, curled up on the couch next to Shane. She was nice.

–How's the reading coming, Belton?

When Belton first met her, she'd looked at him with wide, happy eyes, and smiled.

–You're Belton? Shane says you're, like, a genius.

Belton blushed.

–They're starting the war, Lunar said.

His throat felt dry.

–The what?

Lunar remembered how little Kitty knew. If all this seemed like a shock to him, he could only imagine how sudden it seemed to Kitty. One moment they were clearing dungeons to beat the game, the next moment everything had fallen apart and they'd been detained.

–Belton, you found something when you went to Merse, didn't you? asked Kitty. I never actually asked you how that trip went.

–It's a species deathmatch, Lunar said suddenly, his voice cracking on the final phrase.

Ricardio's face went sunburnt red.

–They're going to kill us, he said. You're going to let them execute us.

Beb broke down. Charles took him by the shoulders and led him away.

–We'll get you out, don't worry, said Lunar. We won't let anything happen to you, I promise. Let… let me go talk to Dan.

–I trust you, Belton, said Kitty, smiling.

Lunar left, followed by Clean. His words floated around behind him. A wave and they'd dissipate, like dust. He could feel Clean's eyes boring into the back of his head.

---

LadMan sat, fraught and alone, in his trashed room. In a moment of emotion he'd rampaged around, flipping furniture and scattering documents. Far from making him feel better, it just gave him a sadder place to sit when he returned to his meaningless moping. He'd put on his combat gear; two six shooters on his hip and a short-sword on his back. Similar to his Lukia setup. Determined to do something. Him chickening out two steps out the door precipitated his rampage.

Somebody banged on the door.

–Come in, LadMan said.

–Damn, Lad, said Bobby as he entered, followed by Di, Rufus, and Jil. What you- actually, it don't matter. Come on, we getting you outta Dodge. I not sure if you heard, but the whole city gone batshit fucking insane. Calmed down a bit after some airship dropped a green dust everywhere, but it could flare up again.

–Dan, said LadMan. He always has a contingency plan.

–Fine, it doesn't matter, said Rufus. Let's go.

–Go where? Lad asked.

He hadn't gotten up.

–It don't matter, said Bobby. We get outta the city, then we hit people up. We can find Slick-

–Gone, said LadMan. She's gone. She's trying to do something, at least.

–Gone? Where she go?

–Off to save us, I hope.

–Jesus, Lad… look, just come on, we figure things out later.

–I'll just stay here, said LadMan. I'm not worth anything anymore.

–Damn it, said Bobby. Come on, Lad, don't do this right now.

–Just go. Fight your war. I'll stay here.

–War? What war?

–Just go. Go…

–We need you, Lad, said Bobby. Whatever happens, we need you. Who you want running things? Dan? Chumpchange?

–They'd do a better job than me.

–Lad, you crazy. I wouldn't have joined this guild if they was in charge. Get up, the Sad Lads need you.

–The Sad Lads are done, said LadMan. Most-

–That's nonsense, LadMan, said Jil with unusual force. I'm here. So is Rufus, and Bobby, and Diamond. You're our leader. Nobody ordered us to follow you around. We chose to. Back in Lukia, even here, we could've left at any time. Some people did. But we didn't. We don't want Dan, or Chumpchange, or even Pfo. You're LadMan. That name isn't meaningless.

Something in her speech roused him. He looked up, sighed, and said,

–You guys would listen to someone as pathetic as me? Even after all this?

Lad, dog, we got yo back, said Bobby.

Rufus and Di nodded.

–I miss my wife and kids to death, said Rufus. But this would be much worse without you all.

–What kind of bullshit you think Dan gonna pull without you around? asked Bobby.

–Who knows? said LadMan, standing up. We better find him. But how do we get past the guards? They'll try to stop me from leaving.

–Let em try, said Bobby with a smile.

---

Esta es Katalina, ella es nuestra nueva vecina. Ricardo recordó, incluso en esos dias jovenes, cuan linda se veia Katalina. Desde ese momento, él quería estar con ella. ¿Qué hay de todo lo demás que ella tenía? ¿Ricardo, que te hace merecedor de ella?

Shane llegó, en algún momento de la escuela secundaria. Ella lo quería a él, y no a ti. ¿Por qué permitirse estar lleno de odio? Ella tiene una elección, sabes.

Es desafortunado, pero, Ricardo, no tienes nada en esta vida, salvo, tal vez, tu mismo.

---

Empress Xia's army finally closed in around Brandonville. An entire corps, dispatched from a nearby base by Her Majesty's direct order. The Defense Minister, rolling to the base at train-speed, was instructed to take command. In the meantime, a Brigadier General ran the show. He appointed an old war hero, Major Lurch, as his second in command.

The Empire's Military Chancellor, a largely ceremonial position but not without import, believing the violence in response to a recent bribery scandal he had been implicated but not prosecuted in, barricaded himself inside his to-order panic room inside his office, already inside the heavily guarded Imperial Capital Building, located in a section of the city even safer than the palace and, therefore, largely untouched by the violence. Nevertheless, he believed the proles were coming to neck him, and ordered his guards to hold the line with their lives. He'd be found days later, almost dead from stress but otherwise unharmed.

The NPC soldiers around Brandonville, at this point, did not know the source of the violence. As far as they could tell, Brandonville simply erupted like a volcano that'd overslept and, hearing its back-up alarm, leapt suddenly out of bed. They didn't even know the violence had to do with the Begotten. Some suspected it, but the picture was too hazy to make sense of. Somebody started fighting, and the violence spread until the whole dissatisfied city was engulfed and alight.

Despite this, the army's orders from Empress Xia were shockingly savvy. She sent a list of Begotten the army was to secure immediately. They were not to detain them, but to locate them and escort them to safety. Work with them, Empress Xia stressed. They are obstinate and obnoxious. They will not follow your orders.

She also enclosed a list of players the army was to actually detain. If detainment was impossible, they were to kill them. She specified several buildings of high importance likely to contain several of the targets. The Brigadier General was to assign elite units to secure said buildings.

The NPC army halted around Brandonville's perimeter while an airship dumped strange green dust on the city. Once the airship departed, and after some deliberation, the Brigadier General decided it was safe and sent his men storming in. The violence by then had died down. Hopefully the soldiers would only be mopping up. They all hoped they wouldn't need to exercise excessive force, but a lost curious order pounded in the back of their brains. As per the empress' wishes, all humans were to be treated with conduct befitting a civilized army. Any non-humans, no matter who, if they resisted or showed the slightest inclination to resist, were to be shot on sight.

---

Belton couldn't concentrate. His books were open before him, but he couldn't read the words. He needed booze. Who ever thought of reading sober? Need to be at least a little buzzed.

He tiptoed out of his room, into the dark hallway. Down the stairs, stepping on the ends of the steps, cringing at every creak. Into the kitchen, up to the top cabinet where he kept his liquor. He opened it but found nothing. A bottle of almost empty vodka, a skunked beer, and maybe half a shot of tequila. Where was his bourbon? He just bought a bottle.

He looked in a few other cabinets. Checked the fridge before remembering you don't refrigerate bourbon. He looked in the pantry. Nothing. As if he'd never bought the bottle. Then, the faintest laugh. From the basement.

Belton snuck over and saw a light peeking under the basement door. He cracked it open. Then, step by step, he snuck down. Snuck until, almost at the source of the light, he heard clearly Shane and Kat giggling and jostling. He peeked his head around.

Shane lay horizontal on the couch, face red, eyes sparkling, watching at Kat made a fool of herself on an old exercise bike. Her hair was down, tangled. Both of them wore sweats and t-shirts. She peddled furiously, leaning way forward like a racer. Shane found this unbelievably funny. Behind them, the television flashed forgotten colors. Belton felt a strange buzzing in the air.

Kat leaned forward again. Shane burst out laughing again. He said something that Belton didn't catch. Between them, on the floor: Belton's bourbon. Hardly any was gone, but Kat and Shane were both blasted.

Belton smiled and tiptoed back up the stairs.

---

Down the charred street.

–We gotta go back, Beb said suddenly. I can't stand it. Lunar, we can't abandon Kitty and Ricardio.

Clean and Charles looked at Lunar, expecting him to shut the boy down. Instead,

–I agree.

–You agree?

–We should go back, Lunar said. Fuck Dan, we'll get them out and deal with the consequences later.

–Hell yeah, said Beb. Jailbreak, bitches!

Clean nodded, smiling at Lunar.

Back up the charred street.

---

But they didn't plan on running straight into LadMan and his posse, heading the opposite direction, the way they'd been going before they turned.

–Yo, it's y'all, said Bobby as the groups closed in. Good to see y'all. We stronger with more. We getting out of here, you coming?

–Yeah, we was just bout to, said Beb.

–Come on, let's stick together, said Bobby.

–We… you know… we just gotta do something at the palace, right quick… said Beb.

–Don't say that, Lunar muttered inaudibly.

–The palace? There ain't nothing at the palace, said Bobby. Come on, it ain't safe around here.

–We… forgot something, said Beb. We gotta go back and grab it. Then we'll… catch up with y'all.

–Why don't you let literally anybody else talk? Lunar muttered, again inaudibly.

–You're going to break out Kitty, aren't you? said LadMan. And Ricardio?

–Kitty? She at the palace? asked Bobby. Why?

–What? No… it's… unrelated, said Beb.

–Lad, what is they talking about? asked Bobby.

–I can't let you, I'm sorry, said LadMan to Beb.

–Dog, we ain't even going to do that, said Beb.

–I'm taking control, LadMan said. I have to save at least the humans. I have to take control. Come with us, we'll deal with Kitty and them later.

–Dog… you ain't listening, said Beb. We ain't going to do that. We gonna get… Charles' staff.

Everyone looked at Charles, clearly holding his staff.

–His… other staff.

–Dual wielding staffs is the new meta, said Charles.

---

Ricardo se sentó en silencio. Katalina estaba sentada cerca, en su propia celda. El podio es escuchar su respiración desigual. Woman golpeó su pie contra el piso a algunos pasos de distancia. Por un momento, el palacio quedó en silencio.

---

The world stretched beyond their view, dissolving into a murky unreality. Unrendered actors ran about according to their code. The NPC army swept through Brandonville's streets, detaining, despite orders, anyone suspicious and not explicitly on their list of peeps to help. Two dust covered players, humans, emerged, stumbling, from a shot-up house to find themselves facing an NPC platoon. The NPCs raised their rifles and demanded the players stand down. Hazy and dazed, one player shot a soldier with his pistol. The NPCs gunned them down.

At the top of the city, a group of motorcycle infantry secured the Capitol and found the mayor, scared but safe. Troops from another regiment closed in on the palace. They had orders to assist or detain a number of players. Individual Numero Uno: Absolute LadMan, a Begotten with long purple hair, likely surrounded by other Begotten. Find him and get him to safety, their orders insisted.

The Defense Minister finally arrived at the nearby fort to find a frantic and frustrated Brigadier General. He had become so angry with Empress Xia, her near-constant wires and near constant demands for information, that he'd assigned an adjunct to wire good-sounding, half-true reports regularly just to keep her off his back. The Minister, incensed, immediately relieved him of duty.

---

LadMan followed Beb and his band back to the palace, pleading with them all the while. Bobby, Di, Rufus, and Jil followed him, pestering him with questions.

–I'm in charge, said LadMan. Come with me right now, and there won't be any consequences. But you have to listen to me.

–Fuck off, dude, said Beb. We ain't leaving without Kitty. Oh, and Ricardio.

–Lunar, talk sense into him, Lad said. We can't free them. Think about it.

–Sorry, Lad, said Lunar. What would Shane think if he learned his big brother let his girlfriend rot away in a jail cell? Just let us get them, we'll make sure nobody gets hurt.

But LadMan stuck to their six, as if his life depended on stopping them from freeing Kitty and Ricardio. As if, thinking it would be the last thing he'd ever do, maybe the only thing he'd ever truly do, he was determined to do it right. But what right way is there to stop other entities determined?

–LadMan, come on, Bobby said.

–Why Kitty locked up, Lad? asked Di.

When Lunar arrived at the palace, LadMan sprinted in front of him and blocked the big, main door. The guards were long gone. In the courtyard a crackling fire ate a hedge. The city, from this perch, was silent, any sounds of combat too far below to register. But the smoke, always pervasive, wafted up, always up. Up, up, blanketing the sky. What a sick smell. A vast, sick smoke without a visible source. The whole world had fallen into causeless, cosmic suffocation.

Beb and Charles came to a stop behind Lunar. Charles raised his staff, Beb drew his dagger. Di looked at Bobby, alarmed.

–LadMan, come on, said Lunar.

–We gonna just use another entrance, said Beb.

–I'll block that entrance too, said LadMan.

–Bro, our stats is insane. You can't take us. I could pick you up and chuck you.

–Bobby, Di, please detain these four, said LadMan calmly.

–Detain them? said Bobby.

–Yes, please arrest them. We'll put them in the dungeon too.

–I ain't the fuzz, Lad, said Bobby. Why I gonna arrest them? What the fuck is going on?

–Look, I don't know what's happening here, said Rufus, but we have to remain civil. We all have people we care about, here or in the real world. Fighting among ourselves is not going to help them. It's not going to help us get to them. Can't we come to some compromise?

–Rufus, said LadMan, face red, I already said to arrest them. There are no compromises. I'm sick of all this, I'm clamping down!

–He gone crazy, mumbled Charles. Let's stun him and be done with it.

–Lunar, something to our nine! shouted Clean.

Charles got a shield up just as Andy, Mufferson, and Outrage crashed into the ground. The shield kept him and his friends from careening, but the Lads, unshielded, went skidding. LadMan knocked against the palace door. He lost only a little health, but his head rang.

–What the fuck? exclaimed Beb once the dust and shields dissipated. Is that Andy? I thought she was dead!

LadMan looked at the sky. His vision was shaky, his brain burned. But he swore he made out a distant Dan, Deus, and Cycler, speeding towards him for all they were worth. He stared like a child staring at a balloon, floating away. Half anguish, half wonder.

–Okay, the palace was the right place to start, said Andy. We found… like, half of the people we're looking for. Beb, Charles, are you okay?

–Are we okay? We thought you was dead!

–Is that… Mufferson? LadMan said, standing up.

–LadMan looks fine too, said Andy. And there's Bobby and Di. Great, this is great. Okay, everyone come on, we're going.

–How you alive, Andy? Beb asked.

–That doesn't matter right now, Andy said. I'll explain later.

Dan, Deus, and Cycler finally landed. Dan stood still and silent for a sec, looking at the lad-leader in front of the giant palace door, blocking only the littlest bit of it.

–LadMan… he said, you're okay.

–I'm fine, Dan. It's… I'm glad you're here. We have a war to win, right?

–Yeah, Lad, we do, said Dan.

–What fucking war? demanded Bobby, back to where he stood before Andy sent him sprawling. What is going on? Andy? Mufferson? I don't get this.

–Later, said Andy. Later, for God's sake. Come on, people, we're going.

Nobody moved.

–What the fuck are you waiting for? Andy asked. Go. Start flying, walking. Whatever. Go to SNAFU. It's safe, we'll cover you.

–Andy, you ain't about the war too, is you? asked Beb.

–Imma fucking explode if nobody tells me what war they talking about, said Bobby.

–Of course I'm about the war, said Andy. What are you talking about? It's the way out of the game.

–You gonna kill all the players who ain't human?

–Beb, do you not realize what is happening here?

–What all you talking about? Bobby demanded.

–They're trying to free Kitty, LadMan shouted at Andy from the door.

–Kitty? said Andy. Where is she?

–The palace dungeon, said LadMan.

–And you're trying to free her? Andy asked.

Such incredulousness that Beb shrunk from her.

–She my friend.

–She's our enemy, said Andy. LadMan, is it just Kitty in the dungeons?

–Ricardio too, said LadMan. And others.

–Bunch of non-humans, said Dan. You can thank me for that, by the way.

–Good, said Andy. That'll hit the Meria where it hurts. Mufferson, Deus, Cycler, go deal with it.

–Deal… with it? Cycler asked.

–Come on retard, you know what she means, said Deus.

–Whoa, stop, what the fuck? said Lunar, ripping out his pistol and pointing it at Deus. Deus and Dan returned the favor.

–What the fuck, stop! cried Bobby.

–Do you people know anything? shouted Andy. I was told at least you morons had some clue of what was going on!

–Yeah, Clean and me fucking figured that out, shouted Lunar. Dan, we didn't do that so you could turn around and do this.

–We have to, Lunar! Clean! Come on!

Mufferson took a few steps forward. Beb, Charles, Clean, and Lunar turned their weapons on her.

–We're too strong, she said. You're not going to win.

–Maybe you ain't heard about us, said Charles.

–I heard you're hackers.

–Exploiters, said Charles. It's different.

–Andy, come on, pleaded Beb. I don't wanna fight any y'all. Just go away, we won't bother you.

–Go, Mufferson, Deus. Get Kitty.

–Andy!

–Beb, I don't want to, but I'll kill you if I have to. We have to get rid of Kitty.

–I don't even know how you alive! cried Beb. Now you trying to kill Kitty!

Mufferson, looking straight at Lunar, slowly took another step towards the palace. The pistol shook in Lunar's hand but he didn't fire. Down the street: the far-off sound of boots. Clean peered through her telescopic monocle and saw a mass of soldiers, several blocks off, slowly advancing, rifles ready. Andy noticed them too.

–Mufferson, Deus, Cycler, do what I told you, she said quickly. Sneak out the back of the palace and meet us back at SNAFU when you're done. The soldiers represent an unknown, don't interact with them. Everyone else, we're leaving in 30 seconds.

Mufferson looked at Lunar.

–Don't take another step, Lunar said. I'm putting my foot down on this one.

–God, I'm really sorry, said LadMan to nobody in particular. I really screwed all this up, didn't I?

–Yeah, Lad, you did, said Dan.

Then, smiling at his friend,

–Don't beat yourself up. Shit happens.

That time in Lukia. Dan, grinding late into the night, got into a skirmish with another player over a farming spot. Dan wounded him and, as they both withdrew, Dan loudly declared: don't fuck with the Sad Lads. Well, it turned out that player was a member of another big Lukia guild. He went back and told his leader, who got a posse together to hunt down Dan. Long story short, LadMan got a phone call from Di at two in the morning telling him that an all-out guild war had broken out and he had to get his ass online. Lad came into the Discord to find Dan. "Lad, thank God you're here. These nigs are full on zerging us." "How did a guild war start at two in the morning?" LadMan asked. "This kid was trying to flex on me," Dan said. LadMan laughed.

Mufferson took another step and Lunar shot her. The force and pain of the shot startled her. Deus jumped forward and Lunar shot him too. He screamed in anger and surprise as his health dropped by a sixth. At once the players burst into action.

Mufferson and Outrage were good. They were great. Outrage hadn't had long to level in the other realm, but he'd grinded a bit in Chancellorsburg and understood the game. Mufferson had skills backed by tons of grinding in the other realm. Level-wise, they could contest Beb and Charles. But Beb had something else. Way too much time dumped into Lukia, an unimaginable amount of time, mixed with top talent, the best gear money could buy, sheer game sense and… just a preposterous amount of time. Di could claim a similar level of raw skill, but he was underleveled, hardly geared, and shocked and upset; altogether inactive.

Beb flung a canister at Dan's feet. It exploded into a cloud of thick, toxic gas. Andy burst out from it, angry but together, while disoriented Dan and Cycler stumbled out the other side, wheezing. Muffy fought through it, but didn't see Beb. She saw Charles blasting Dan and Cycler with a stun spell. They fell and hit the ground hard, only able to move their eyes. Those eyes darted frantically around, trying to catch glimpses of the action. Charles aimed at Outrage, also disoriented by the gas, so Mufferson charged him. He was a healer. He was vulnerable. She realized too late it was a bait. Beb's pommels pounded into her back, four, five, six times. Her health dropped and her legs gave out. She tried to roll onto her stomach but a dart hit her in the neck. Her whole body tensed up, her veins burned. She couldn't move. She screamed.

–Fuck, you idiots! Andy shouted from somewhere. Deus, go and deal with Kitty! Deus!

Charles' stun hit Outrage. He weathered it and raised his staff. Before he could cast anything another spell smacked him. Frozen alive. Literally stuck inside a pillar of ice, like a fucking cartoon character. He could breath and see, but that was it.

Deus, infuriated, pulled out his shield and charged Lunar. Lunar emptied his revolver into the shield, doing negligible damage, then dropped it and drew his sword.

–Bobby, go kill Kitty! shouted Andy.

She hurled a fireball at Beb, but he skidded out of the way. Her next one, at Charles, couldn't penetrate his magical shield.

–Bobby! Andy shouted again.

Bobby stood stone-still. Di looked at his brother.

–I ain't an executioner! he screamed in anguish.

–Fuck, fine, said enraged Andy. She pushed past LadMan and threw open the palace door.

Just before Deus shield-slammed into Lunar Charles leapt forward and knocked him off balance with his staff. Beb soccer-slid into the Crusader and knocked him on his ass.

–Stop fighting, Beb demanded.

Clean, catching sight of Andy about to enter the palace, sent a revolver shot just past her head. The bullet smacked into the doorframe and sent bits of stone into Andy's face. She spun around, her eyes spewing hot hate. Clean, shaken to her core, nevertheless stood her ground and shouted.

–Stop this now!

Deus jumped to his feet and stood staring at Lunar. Beb and Charles trained weapons on him. Bobby, Di, Jil, and Rufus stood by, minds racing. Mufferson struggled against her stun, wondering how so much of their force had been immediately immobilized.

–Stand down, Deus, said Beb.

LadMan, meanwhile, had run to Dan. He knelt down beside him.

–Dan, you okay?

Dan felt himself slowly regaining movement, starting with the top of his head. The rest of his body slowly followed. First he could move his eyebrows, then he could twitch his nose, and finally he could move his mouth.

–Those fucks stunned me, Lad, he managed to say.

LadMan smiled. He didn't tell Dan that stunned on the ground, away from the fight, was the best place for him to be.

–Deus, drop your sword, said Beb.

Deus looked about ready to comply when Andy said,

–Deal with them, Deus, I'll be inside.

She stepped through the doorframe and, as Clean aimed her revolver, Deus dove at her. Charles and Beb both let loose, spells and shurikens respectfully, but everything missed by mere inches. Deus slammed his shield into Clean and sent her careening off her feet, health plummeting.

Lunar swung his sword and got a solid hit. Deus responded with a sword slash of his own. Lunar and Clean felt a healing spell wash over them. Beb, who'd scurried behind Deus, kicked him in the back, sending him again to the ground.

–I'm going for Kat! yelled Lunar as he rushed towards the palace.

Clean painfully rose to her feet and followed.

–Deal with Deus! she shouted at Beb.

–Shit! said Beb.

He looked at Deus, currently struggled to stand.

–I'm done with you, Deus, he said. Stand up and we gonna kill you.

Deus didn't stop rising. He came to his knees and put a single foot firm on the ground.

–Deus, Beb warned.

–Rufus, what do we do? cried Jil.

Deus kept rising, now semi-seconds from fully standing.

–Bobby, they gonna kill him! shouted Di.

Deus stood and immediately jumped to the side, narrowly dodging the throwing stars Beb sent towards him. Charles formed a fireball with his staff and aimed at Deus.

–No! Don't! shouted Di. He drew his pistol and shot Charles in the chest. It did only a little damage but, his concentration fucked, his fireball fizzed out.

–Di, please! pleaded Bobby as his brother charged the Tennessee twins, revolver screaming.

Charles hit Di with a lighting spell. The Lad lit up, almost comically, his skeleton practically visible. He fell to the ground, fried, eighty percent of his health gone.

–We don't have a choice, Rufus, Jil said, drawing her weapon.

–Think you're right, said Rufus. Sorry, Sue. I'll see you again, regardless.

LadMan, still kneeling beside Dan, watched as Bobby grabbed Di and dragged him away. Deus was deploying almost every item he owned in an attempt to pin Beb, but the boy was too fast, too leveled.

Rufus and Jil, underleveled, met fiery resistance from Charles but soldiered on.

–I gotta fight, LadMan said to Dan. The Lads need help.

–Do it, Lad, said Dan, who could now crane his neck to get a better view of the action. I'll join you in a sec.

–I'm counting on it.

LadMan rose and rushed into the fray.

Beb, between dodging Deus' attacks, hit the Di-dragging Bobby with a stun-infused throwing star. Bobby, his mind consumed by white-hot rage, fell useless to the ground, leaving his little brother smoking and groaning as he struggled to stand.

–Man, this game is messed up, said Rufus, watching the ordeal as he struggled to catch Beb in his shotgun sights.

Just as he got a shot he felt a fireball overtake him and snuff him from existence. Jil, watching with teary-eyed terror as her role-model fell, pushed forward one more step. She followed Rufus after eating a lighting spell she was too underleveled to live through.

–Fuck, Charles, you killing them! screamed Bobby, still dodging Deus' attacks.

–We don't got a choice, muttered Charles.

He caught LadMan in the corner of his eye. He flung a force-wave that knocked LadMan off his feet. Di, pain coursing through his body, pain he never thought the game would simulate, came to his feet and raised his weapon. The NPC soldiers, much closer, shouted at the players to stand down. Ground-stuck Dan screamed at the sky.

---

Andy didn't know where the palace dungeons were. She found herself lost in the labyrinth. Her local map didn't include a palace-floor plan, just a map of Brandonville itself. She considered using her ample power to start blowing through walls, old-school Bethesda style, when, as if delivered by God's perfect palm: Gui, Misty, and Shout, trailed by Kitty, Ricardio, Ty, Erectio, Woman, and several other non-human Lads, turned a corner and ran right into her.

–Andy! cried Kitty. You're alive!

Andy had grown tired of hearing this. As for the post-prisoners, Gui had gotten them free. In his finest moment, he enticed a key-carrying NPC guard to come near his cell then reached through the bars, grabbed the man, and beat him to death with his bare hands. The guard was one of the last in the palace, having developed a strange loyalty to the Lads during his tenure. Gui took the key from his corpse and opened his cell. Then he freed Misty and Shout. The three of them were about to leave when, amidst angry shouts from Ricardio, Erectio, et al, Gui clenched his fist and hardened his soul and freed them all. The whole group rushed through the abandoned palace, encountering no resistance and growing more and more optimistic. Then they ran into Andy.

–We thought you died with Hector, Kitty continued. Is Hector okay?

Andy strode towards the group. She almost seemed to float. She said nothing. Gui's face grew grave. He looked at Misty and Shout. Did they share his dread?

–Andy? said Kitty.

–Something's wrong, muttered Ty.

–Oh, Ty, said Woman with a sad chuckle. You're always too right for your own good.

Andy raised her shining sword. From it flew a beam of white light, a God-ray condensed into an unimaginably small size and high density, like an infinite number of photons, jammed together, flinging themselves forward at the merest mention of freedom. All the nameless Lads literally burst into a flash of light.

The beam hit Gui's right arm. When it cleared, the limb was on fire. Gui screamed. With a quick flick Andy cut him in two.

–Fuck, run! shouted Woman, scrambling over Misty and Shout to secure his passage backwards.

Misty fell to the ground and met her bright end there. Shout, seeing her friend fall, broke and ran, but couldn't round the corner fast enough. A beam ripped her apart.

Kitty, Ricardio, Ty, and Woman managed to get out of Andy's sight. Erectio wouldn't make it. He wished he had his jetpack. The NPCs who arrested him took it. He imagined himself jetting straight towards Andy, slicing her up and saving them all. A kawaii killer, a byte-sized badass. The little loli was cut down.

The others frantically fled down whatever passage seemed safe. Andy, expending immense power per second, burst through wall after wall, crashing through them without a care. Her hyper-tuned senses caught glimpses of the fleeing. Only a matter of time before she caught them.

The survivors scrambled into a big drawing room. Its furniture was covered with white sheets. Dark and dusty, shaking as the sound of Andy's destruction neared. Finally, she emerged, blasting a hole through the wall, annihilating a sheet-covered grand piano in the process, and stepping out of the dust and haze to loom before them.

The four ran for a door but Andy conjured an explosion that sent the entire relevant wall crumbling. The shockwave knocked the survivors back. Andy stepped towards them and raised her blade. She pointed it at Kitty.

–Andy! Why? Kitty screamed. Is this because of Hector?

–No, said Andy. Didn't you read the patch notes?

Andy sent a beam at Kitty but, moments before it hit, Kitty felt a force pushing her to the side. She caught a quick glance of Ricardio. The boy had dove into her. His face was scrunched in utter concentration. The beam hit him and he tumbled backwards, ninety percent of his health gone.

–You guys are too leveled, said Andy. It's annoying.

As Andy aimed another beam, she felt several shots ring off her armor from behind. She spun around to see Lunar and Clean, having followed the sounds of destruction, standing, weapons raised.

–Belton… said Kitty.

Andy was unaffected healthwise by their attacks. But she was pissed that someone dare interfere. She sent a beam at the duo. Lunar and Clean dove separate ways. The beam shot between them, missing. Immediately, Andy conjured an explosion. The blast knocked both Lunar and Clean out of sight. Lunar flew into a pile of rubble. Clean smacked against a wall, momentarily concussed.

Andy turned and blasted Ricardio to death with another beam. Ty, sensing that hope was lost and wishing to go with some dignity, charged. He lowered his shoulder like he learned so many years ago, during youth football, but felt a blade slice through him before he impacted. He fell to the ground in two pieces.

Woman's mind raced through the possibilities for in-game death. Like a fish in a bear's jaw, realizing its struggle won't bear fruit, will resign to death, so did Woman resign himself, choosing at that moment to believe that something better awaited him. Andy would incinerate him and he'd wake in his recliner. He'd take off his headset, rip out the complex mechanisms by which it interacted with his brain, take the whole contraption outside, plop it on a wooden crate, and blast it to bits with his dad's old M16. He'd get all the nanobots away from his neurons. Then he'd drive to his favorite mom and pop restaurant, a little place owned by a Culiacan couple, and stuff himself full of pescado empanizado. The headset wouldn't fry his brain, or imprison him in a timeless hell-cell. He would be allowed to leave. But Woman, why would the Devs trap you just to make dying so benign? He didn't know, he only had what he could hope for.

He felt hot. Like he was being boiled from the inside out. Ah, on fire. Really unfortunate, that. He felt his sentience slip. He treasured it while he had it.

–You bitch! Clean was screaming from somewhere.

Andy's expression didn't change.

–Andy! came a cry from behind them. Down a hallway, panting, half-health: LadMan. He stood in one of Andy's impromptu doors.

Andy threw another wave of flame towards Kitty, then turned to look at LadMan. The flame hit, and Kitty lost nine tenths of her health as she rolled around on the ground, trying to put the flames out.

Lunar rose from the rubble. He set his eyes on LadMan. Felt the hate for him rising. This was his fault… the blood on his hands could supply a blood bank for months. But nobody wanted such blood. It was tainted, diseased, ripped from its real owners and distorted in LadMan's black, cruel hands.

–LadMan, good, said Andy. We're going to kill these three and get back to SNAFU-

–Beb and Charles! LadMan screamed.

The twins appeared like low flying jets. Suddenly they were there, ready to rain metal death. They knocked LadMan to the side and sped towards Andy. Beb sent shurikens at her. She swatted them away. She fired a beam but missed. A forcewave from Charles sent her crashing through a wall.

Beb, for a brief moment, locked eyes with Kitty. Andy emerged and thrust her sword into the ground. An explosion followed. Massive, throwing everyone everywhere. Not enough to kill, but more than enough to scatter. Lunar found himself rolling into a pile of chairs. Clean again fell against a wall with a painful thud.

Beb, who'd fared best, flew at Andy before she realized what was happening and tackled her. The pair tumbled into another room. Charles, frantically buffing his brother, followed.

Lunar pushed away the broken chairs. He was covered in cuts. He tried to take out a health potion but couldn't steady his fingers. He looked across the room. Kitty was looking at him. Her eyes were filled with desperation and regret. LadMan, who'd been thrown beside her, rolled over onto his back. Was Kitty lunging at him? Was she reaching out for help? To help? Lunar couldn't process reality. LadMan shot Kitty in the head. She slumped over.

The death of the real. The last real person Lunar knew. The logical end. Shane, Katalina, even Ricardo, always third winging around his house. The flesh folks are dead, all hail the byte boys. But…

Clean was running towards him, yelling something. Andy came careening back into the drawing room. Charles flew in after her. He slammed his staff down and the whole floor gave way. Andy fell into the darkness.

–Lunar, we gotta go, shouted Beb. The NPCs is here.

–They… they're dead! Lunar said. Kat, Ricardo… they're all dead!

–Fuck, muttered Charles.

–No, they can't be, said Beb.

–They are! thundered Lunar.

Andy rose from the hole, wings extended. She shot a beam at Beb. Charles got a magical shield up right before impact. The beam hit the shield and glanced off, burning the wall near LadMan.

Charles returned fire with a bolt of electricity. It hit and chipped Andy's health. She clenched her teeth and sent another beam, but Charles blocked it as well.

–Dammit, you two are so fucking annoying, Andy hissed.

She raised her sword to the sky and then, as if to slice the world in two, brought it down. Everything erupted, with Andy as the epicenter. Charles buffed his party before it hit, saving their lives, but all four went careening around. The palace shook. Somewhere, its foundations began to falter. The NPCs outside, sensing the inevitable, grew nervous.

–LadMan! screamed Dan.

He'd regained use of his upper body, but still couldn't move his legs.

–LadMan, get out of there! Fuck, why'd he go after them?

Deus, badly beat up, kneeled over Cycler, in the same state as Dan.

–Should've kept you at SNAFU, he said quietly.

–I'm okay, Deus, said Cycler.

Bobby and Di, both half-stunned, as if hit by flashbangs, and each with a sliver of health, stumbled over to Rufus and Jil. Di looked at the corpses, not comprehending. An NPC captain shouted at them.

–You all, get away from the palace! he called.

The captain had arrived just as the outside-palace fighting stopped. Some of the survivors matched the descriptions of his targets.

–LadMan is in there! shouted Dan. You have to get him!

–Absolute LadMan? said the captain.

He looked at a nearby lieutenant.

–He's our top target. You think we should risk it?

–I wouldn't, sir, the palace is coming down.

–I agree. Everybody, we're falling back. We'll establish a perimeter, but I want everyone a safe distance away.

–No! shouted Dan. Go! Go save Lad!

Inside, while the building shook, the battle continued. Charles weathered Andy's latest spell. Just as the spell ended, Andy sent a beam at Charles, but still the boy managed to block it.

–Fuck- fucking hackers! Andy shouted.

–It's exploiting, it's different, muttered Charles.

Lunar got to his knees and saw, sprawled before him, a dazed, low-health LadMan. LadMan had been trying to crawl out of the drawing room when Andy's spell sent him rolling. Serves him right… too right. Careening around like trash in the wind. He caused this. He killed Kitty. He thought himself in charge. Lunar had to imagine LadMan puffed.

LadMan looked up to see Lunar pointing a pistol at his head.

Andy heard the bang but didn't register it, so engrossed was she in her renewed duel with Beb and Charles. Charles blocked every attack she sent, while Beb, seemingly at the speed of sound, darted around and harassed her. He couldn't catch an opening to do real damage with his daggers, but he kept shurikens, smoke bombs, darts, and other shit flying at her.

Clean crawled over to Lunar. He knelt, his face in his hands, his revolver on the floor before him.

–Lunar, you okay? she asked.

Andy knew the building was about to collapse. Even she couldn't survive that. Besides, her duel with Beb and Charles was getting her nowhere. She looked to LadMan and saw him dead on the ground, his blood pooled around him. Lunar, on his knees, sat nearby, Clean next to him, trying to pick him up and pull him away.

–Fuck, LadMan, you retard, she said.

She'd failed completely. Of her top three targets, one was dead and the other two were trying to kill her. She didn't know if anybody outside had survived. Mufferson, Outrage: both beat, maybe dead. Bobby, Di, and Deus too.

She spun around. Sent a shockwave of electric energy in all directions. Once again, Charles' buffs, shields, and heals saved his groups' lives. When the shockwave passed and they looked up, Andykey was gone.

–Lunar, we gotta go, said Charles. The palace is gonna collapse.

–We gotta look for Kitty! cried Beb.

–We going, Rob!

Clean grabbed Lunar and tried pulling him to his feet. She wasn't strong enough. Luckily,

–I'm okay, said Lunar, gently pushing her off him. I'm… I can move.

–Let's go, Lunar, she said softly.

&c &c &c

Andy burst from the second floor of the palace like a bullet, dust and debris spewing out of the hole behind her. She landed among the Lads. Shortly after, the building began collapsing for real.

–Lad! LadMan! screamed Dan. Andy! Where's Lad?

–He's dead, said Andy as she inspected the players before her. Di shell shocked over Jil's body. Bobby nearby, trying to think of something to say. Deus had picked up Cycler. He had him slung over his back, and slowly carried the kid away from the collapsing palace. Dan just sat, staring, eyes wide open as the immense dust overtook them. When the dust cleared, and the once grand palace was but a pile, he still sat, shocked.

The NPC captain, down the street, ordered his men to secure said rubble. He meant to follow his orders and secure the palace, senseless as they now may seem.

–I'm- I'm fine, Deus, said Cycler. I can stand.

Deus set Cycler on the ground.

–You sure you're okay? he asked. God, I shouldn't have taken you with me.

–I'm okay, said Cycler. Are you okay?

–I'll be fine, said Deus.

He opened his menu and pulled out a health potion. He popped the cap and began chugging.

–I didn't ask if you will be fine, mumbled Cycler.

–Andy! said Dan, also finally able to stand.

He ran to her.

–Lad is okay, right? You got him out, right?

–I told you, he's dead, she said. Those traitors shot him.

–They- they shot him?

Andy knelt next to Mufferson. She was cross-legged on the ground, beating the street with her empty hand.

–Fuck, Andy! I fucked up. How did this happen? How'd I let them beat me?

–At least you're alive, Andy said. Looks like Outrage is fine too.

The ice pillar that trapped Outrage was slowly melting.

–Andy… said Dan. How… why… why didn't you get LadMan?

–Listen, retard, said Andy. You need to figure out real quick what is going on here. Look around.

Dan looked around. He looked at the pile of palace. He looked at battered Bobby and dead-eyed Di. He looked at the remains of Rufus and Jil. He looked at Deus. In the far distance, past the palace, he caught a faint glimpse of four figures flying away. He walked towards the debris in a daze.

---

When Dan came to, he was sifting through the palace-rubble. He was covered in dust. His hands were coated in dirt and blood. NPCs milled around. The captain tried to coordinate some kind of search effort. Andykey cast low level fireballs at Outrage in an attempt to speed the melting of the ice pillar. Mufferson, Bobby, and Di had dragged Rufus and Jil to the side of the street and covered them in sheets. Di thought they should bury them in a pile of stone. Muffy thought it morbid. Bobby poked around for wood to make crosses. Dan looked down. So much debris. He could find no trace of his friend.

---

Chapter THIRTY-TWO

Some Clever Lines to Say

---

Part Three

I Wish I Had A Loving Man in My Life

Maybe then I would have turned out right.

---

The argument: Patty gets an exclusive look at Franky Fisher's inner life.

---

Selections from Juno's Relentless Rage

by Lacey Davenport

Zeus's Plot

Zeus, concerned that too many people exist on earth, decides that he's gonna start a war. Other deities, like Yahweh, depopulate the planet because its becomes corrupted or rotten; filled with sinners. Zeus simply has a problem with people. There are too many of them. They ruin his view and crowd the clubs he likes to go to on weekends. So he decides there is going to be a war in which a lot of humans will die. He also hopes the war will get rid of some of his bastard children running around and pissing off his wife, Hera.

Of primary concern is Heracles. Heracles won't stop running around and killing people. Heracles then uses his charm to convince the relations of those he kills to allow him to repent. To repent he performs errands (that usually end with him killing more people). Now, Zeus normally wouldn't care how many humans Heracles killed (he doesn't care for them after all) but some of the other gods have started complaining that Heracles is killing a bunch of their children. Zeus hopes he can convince Heracles to fight in this new war and, with some luck, Zeus can conspire to have him killed.

In order to start a war Zeus hires Eris to start some shit. He tells Eris to focus on the humans, but Eris, of course, doesn't listen. She shows up at Peleus and Thetis' wedding and throws an apple dedicated "to the fairest," starting a fight between Aphrodite, Athena, and Hera, all of whom think the apple ought to belong to them. Zeus thinks that he might be able to salvage this scheme until the three goddesses start destroying Olympus, at which point he realizes that he miscalculated. Luckily, Hermes, his loyal messenger, intervenes, telling them all that he knows the perfect person to solve this issue.

[…]

Achilles' Childhood

Achilles is the son of Thetis and Peleus. He was born during their first marriage. Thetis, a germaphobe and helicopter mom, spoiled and ruined the boy. Peleus, a chill, older guy, only wanted to sit around, watch basketball, sitcoms, and listen to his rock music. Achilles often participated in these activities, and took a particular liking to Styx. He loved listening to "Come Sail Away," and often imagined himself sailing far away from his mother on an adventure. This strange childhood resulted in Achilles being a split young man, half spoiled brat, half chill athlete, particularly good at basketball.

Thetis and Peleus got divorced when he was a teenager but, after several years, got together again. They recently got married for a second time. Achilles was present at the wedding, but was bored and tired, and whined throughout.

[…]

The Abduction of Helen

Helen is the child of Zeus and Leda, whom Zeus raped. She currently lives with Menelaus, her rich fiance, who also takes care of her mentally challenged little sister, Hermione. Helen greatly appreciates Menelaus' financial support, but does not really love him. Menelaus had been infatuated with Helen for some time, and when she agreed to marry him he was so happy he swore he'd make a huge donation to Aphrodite's cult. However, he ended up getting drunk and forgetting all about it. This angered Aphrodite, so she tells Paris that Helen is the best looking woman in the world and assures him that he can have her with no problems.

Paris fears retribution from Menelaus, who he knows is rich and powerful, but Aphrodite assures him that nothing will happen. She points to Heracles, who is constantly abducting women and never suffers any real consequences. Convinced, Paris heads off to steal Helen. […]

---

Patty crossed miles of pristine landscape on his way to Franky's secluded abode. Hundreds of cows milled about, staring at him as his little car buzzed through the serenity, spewing exhaust and bouncing. He'd read, while on the plane, something about cows being Franky's favorite animal. They were lazy, lovely. He admired their peaceful ways, their no-conflict lifestyle. Patty found the sentiment vaguely troubling. He knew for a fact that Franky puffed. A cavalry officer admiring the Indian camp before a charge.

Eventually he came to it, Franky's compound, nestled in between two mountains. Patty imagined one big mountain had existed before Franky's house showed up and sunk the Earth down with it. But still, it was far higher than Patty was now.

One could see the house's light from miles. It was as if the house had selected a good-enough spot and plopped right down. It appeared arrogant, as if it felt like it could move at any time but still held a divine right to its place. To every place. It couldn't imagine anybody challenging its claim to be exactly where it was.

Patty's little car struggled up the long gravel driveway. It kicked up dust and rocks as it climbed. He figured Franky had a truck, something powerful, to brave the mountain. But Patty did make it, eventually, with his car so dusty and dented up he worried the rental place might complain.

Franky lived in a big house (of course), imminently modern. Very sleek and open, tons of windows, the whole thing made from metal and glass. Behind it, Patty could see a swimming pool (empty) and a pool house. Further up the mountain, a big shed.

A young woman stood in front of the door, an artificial smile painted on her face. She waved over-eagerly as Patty emerged from his car.

–You must be Patrick, she said, reaching out to shake his hand.

Patty took it. It almost dissolved. Patty looked back at his car. Still there. He wondered how far the world extended beyond these two mountains.

–Come on in, said the woman. Everyone is waiting for you. Do you have bags?

–In the car, said Patty.

–We'll get those for you, don't worry, said the woman, motioning him inside.

Franky decorated his hallways expertly. Or maybe he had someone do it for him? A few pieces of art, acquired at auction for appropriate prices, hung an optimal distance apart. There was very little furniture, the odd chair (for show, not sitting) and an end table with an art-deco vase (nothing in it). The late day light streamed through the windows, casting long shadows. Patty, looking out the big windows, felt like he was in an aquarium. But he couldn't figure out which side was which.

Patty considered asking the woman why Franky drove to a pool if he had one in his backyard, but decided to keep the subject of pools and gyms far from everyone's mind.

The woman showed him into a dining room. There, at the head of the table: Franky. He wore tight black track pants and a tight sweatshirt. Surprising attire, at the height of summer. His hair short but unkempt, and his beard a bit overgrown. He looked at Patty with inspective eyes.

Also at the table: an older woman with smile lines and hilariously large glasses; a handsome, young black man with a short frohawk; and an attractive but sloppily dressed young woman with jet black hair and dark eyes.

–Ah, Patrick, hello, said the older woman.

–Please… uh… call me Patty, said Patty.

–Oh, okay, can do, said the woman.

She reminded Patty of a kindergarten teacher.

–We spoke on the phone, she said. I'm Michelle, Franky's publicist. This is Maxcene.

The handsome black man nodded and smiled warmly.

–Trainer, said Maxcene in a soft, French accent. What would Franky be without me, I wonder?

He chuckled.

–And this is Olympia, said Michelle.

The black haired woman gave Patty a hearty salute.

–Girlfriend, muse… all around inspiration, she said.

Her voice was husky, but homely. Reminded Patty of Janis. Everything she said was accompanied by an exaggerated hand or head movement. Her eyebrows bounced up and down. Was Olympia her real name? The name sounded familiar, but Patty couldn't place it. Androids… or… something? Patty never read the Romantics.

–And this, of course, is Franky, said Michelle.

–I recognize you, Franky said. Were you at the gym earlier?

Patty's face went red. He prayed nobody noticed.

–Um… no… you must have me confused with somebody else. Do you go to the gym often?

Franky leaned back in his chair.

–Hm… well, I always have trouble with faces.

Olympia rolled her eyes.

–He'd forget what I looked like if I let him, she said.

–But yeah, I got to the gym pretty often, said Frankie. I like to swim.

–Likes smelling like chlorine all the damn time, said Olympia.

Franky shrugged.

–Guilty, I guess. What can I say? The smell soothes me.

–So, Patty, how do you want to do things? Michelle asked.

–Oh… well, I'd like a one-on-one interview with Franky, if that's possible.

–Of course, said Michelle.

–And then, if I could, I'd like to talk to all of you. Other than that, if I could just follow and… write what I see.

–That should be fine, said Michelle. We do have some boundaries… but we'll get to them later. Right now, I think the food is coming out!

A server rolled a metal cart in. He took bowls of soup and began placing them in front of everyone.

–Now, Patty, I should remind you, said Michelle as she waited for her soup to cool down, I negotiated final edit with Mr. Chester. I assume you are aware of that?

–Yes… that's fine, said Patty.

Something felt strange. He took a sip of soup. It burned his tongue. Maxcene was gingerly blowing on his, while Olympia wasn't even looking at hers. But Franky had dove right in, shoveling it into his mouth. Soup spilled down his chin and got stuck in his beard.

–I'll make sure you have your one-on-one with Franky. That will probably be tomorrow.

–Okay, whenever works.

Patty settled in. He said very little. He wanted just to watch. Olympia was bombastic, very outspoken and displayed little sense of etiquette. Maxcene was quiet, but cheerful, quick to insert a jab or a joke. His funnier ones would inevitably send Olympia roaring, almost falling out of her chair, laughing and snorting. Michelle watched with contentment, her brain clearly buzzing but always keeping a bit of herself present. Her phone seemed to beep constantly, but more often than not she ignored it. Franky struck Patty as a man of extremes. Sometimes he was bombastic with Olympia, roaring and snorting, falling all over the table, other times he fell into long moments of melancholy, staring at the table, stirring his soup. Patty watched as his spoon stirred. Around and around.

---

Patty was put up well. Franky's pool house had a comfortable guest room. A big bed, a couch, a television, a dresser. Patty found his bags on the bed. He took out his laptop and checked its charge. He set it atop the dresser.

From the bed, out of his room's window, he could see the main house. Most of the windows remained lit. Activity continued well into the night. Michelle sat at the dining room table, clacking away at her laptop, or talking into her phone. Franky and Maxcene had retired to an upstairs room, some kind of study, where they sat at a table, intensely discussing something. Strategy? Franky kept putting his head in his hands, frustrated.

Patty could also see the pool. Had it been full, it would've been beautiful, reflecting the Moon and the stars. But it was empty, just a concrete hole in the ground. Olympia had left the house at some point and went to sit on a pool chair. She stared at the Moon for the longest time before finally falling asleep.

How does the house look from the bottom of the mountains? Patty wondered. Different than during the day? Brighter, probably. Like a star. Patty didn't feel like he was on a star. Bright as it was, the house seemed only able to muster some vague sadness.

Patty went to sleep.

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