Continue Online (Part 4, Crash) (44 page)

“Voices why…” Despite the sorrow his words were soft.

“Wyl.” I walked up slowly, worried about startling the guardsman. “It’s not real.”

Getting closer made it apparent to me that the body in his arms was a dummy. A plastic face stared forward without expression, yet the guard captain gazed down as if nothing else in the world existed.

“How could this happen? That city was meant to be safe,” the man said.

“It’s not real, Wyl. It’s an illusion,” I spoke quietly from behind him. He made me a bit nervous but I dared to get closer. These stages were safe enough once the illusion of fear had been broken.

He stood and the dummy figure faded away. His eyes cast toward the distance and a shaking movement took over his arm. Wyl charged off toward the stage exit. “Not again! I won’t let it happen again!” the man shouted.

“Wyl!” I ran quickly after his fleeing form. Even with my
[Light Body]
he managed to stay ahead. His ragged body disappeared into the drapes with me trailing behind.

Fabric brushed by much faster this time. Almost immediately I burst upon a new scene. Wyl had a dull looking blade out and swung at straw stuffed mockeries of humans. He dodged unseen blows and spun around swinging at another hay pile with crudely made arms. His movements grew progressively worse with each lap.

Cuts appeared along his body that hadn’t been there seconds before. One arm went limp and Wyl simply switched the blade to an offhand. I stood with my mouth hanging open trying to figure out what was happening. Could the nightmare inflict actual damage? Eyes scanned my own bars, they were at full. No penalties showed like
[Dazed]
,
[Asleep]
, or
[Drugged]
.

“Why won’t you bastards die!?” Wyl shouted while hacking again. His blade looked pitiful as it brushed past the straw dummies without even denting them.

“Wyl, stop!” I shouted.

His weapon looked shoddy, but mine broke through the walls of this nightmare. I pulled out the weapon and rushed toward the dummies. If he couldn’t break free on his own then I would do it instead. No other option seemed worthwhile, and the game wouldn’t have dumped me here if I shouldn’t help.

Wyl turned and looked at me. His eyes glowed with the same red light that spilled across the stage. He held his blade out and shouted, “You!”

The man charged me instead. A second stage light flickered on above and the floor below flooded with depth as another scene swam over my senses. Wyl was no longer in his broken tattered armor, but standing in a shining set of gear worthy of a leader among men. He screamed with a sword at the ready and a small shield on the other arm.

Behind him was an army of townsfolk. I took a breath and tried to understand what was happening. Vaguely familiar faces flashed among the crowd. I turned and saw another small group of people with me but none of them were distinct.

This wasn’t the nightmare from before, but engaging with Wyl must have transformed the stage to include me. They attacked while screaming incoherently. I held up
[Morrigu’s Gift]
and kept the blade flat. Wyl’s body ducked under and a suddenly sharp sword came up toward my face.

It slid by a cheek and sliced the tip of one ear. I twisted away then
[Blink]
ed to the side. My landing put me in the middle of a grassy field which sat right outside of
[Haven Valley]
. There was only a moment to stare at destroyed rubble stretching for miles in either direction. There used to be a defensive fortification there.

Behind me the crowd roared and was clashing with other people. I turned to see an army of low level villagers fighting against four Travelers. Above them stood blaring symbols denoting their otherworldly presence. Each one like small giants slaughtering people left and right. Wyl stood at the forefront snarling at a woman who spun blades through the air, extra ones danced independently from her body and cut down inattentive people.

There were dead bodies everywhere. The pile of NPCs grew and Wyl looked worse as time went on. I couldn’t tell if this entire situation was based on a real event in the past or his fears. Wouldn’t I have heard if
[Haven Valley]
was destroyed? Beth could have told me. No, I had been gone for two weeks and stuck as a communication restricted
[Convict]
.

“Wyl. It isn’t real!” I shouted.

He screamed and shouted, “Stop destroying my town!”

I looked around and tried to see how far the nightmare extended. Beyond the wall sat a fuzzy horizon of burning buildings. The streets didn’t look right based on my memories.

This was a nightmare, and Wyl was fighting against Travelers. There were four enemies and had been an equal amount of strawmen. It clicked in my head. If denial wasn’t his way through then maybe fighting was. Too bad the mob thought I was an enemy as well. Even now a small group of half defined faces charged toward my perch near the wall.

I readied my blade and prepared to dodge the mob.

“After all we gave you!” yelled the furious guardsman. A small group of other guards had joined him. They were being cut down by Travelers. “We helped when you asked!”

“Voices above,” I cursed. One of those people looked a lot like Peggy Hall, a trainer at one of the two places to learn weapons. She had spent hours trying to retrain an elderly William Carver and being stuck with my poor skills instead.

The Traveler attacking the burly woman had mad eyes that vibrated. She died as I charged out. I made it just in time to stab at the Traveler. I slipped by with
[Morrigu’s Gift]
and clanged into an under armor of some sort. After Requiem and a few boss monsters, I knew exactly what to do.

[Morrigu’s Echo]
planted into the dirt at an angle while the Traveler laughed at me. One foot twisted and
[Power Armor]
clinked into place giving me extra weight and protection.
[Blink]
put me in the air above while the Traveler kept up their damned mockery. A moment later and my heavily weighted body slammed down onto the person’s back and shoved
[Morrigu’s Echo]
through their body.

Laughter died off while a series of messages came up telling me about armor values and unexpected attacks. NPCs around me cheered and did not try to insert their blades into my backside. I moved quickly with heavy footsteps toward the next Traveler. Those that had been attacking scattered to new targets.

“This isn’t real, Wyl!” I shouted again, hoping to break through.

The people flowed around me and kept attacking Travelers. I did too, there was no other way through this trial that I had found yet.
[Morrigu’s Echo]
wouldn’t have much left if I
[Recall]
ed it right away, so it stayed impaled on the dying Traveler. The second enemy went down soon after. By the time I hit a third they felt even more like the dummy figures they had been originally. Their bodies offered no real resistance and soon everything around me felt like a stage play once again.

I looked around. The white light up above had vanished away and all that remained were the broken wrecks of dummies. I turned then found Wyl, alone, swinging his blade at a figure made of straw once more. His eyes were unfocused and foam lined his mouth.

“Voices, make this endless hell stop,” he mumbled.

“It’s not real,” I said but the man showed no signs of understanding.

I ran over and prepared to lop the fourth straw man in half. It vanished as I swung my blade and Wyl fell forward onto the ground. My
[Reaction]
barely managed to pull the blade back fast enough to avoid friendly fire. I ended up facing a wall in an awkward spin that nearly put one leg out of joint.

There were no footsteps behind me, only slow labored breathing. I took a moment to assess my foot and found it mobile enough. I turned to see Wyl had managed to get upright and was staring out at the audience. Red lighting above still shone down and
[Morrigu’s Echo]
lay in a mess of straw. The remaining dummy bodies were gone, spirited away by game programming or those little flame men.

I walked over while favoring my recently damaged foot. The system provided me a message regarding it but I shut them all off until this series of nightmares ended.

Wyl abruptly saluted to empty space. My eyes winced from a sudden flare in the red light projecting down from the catwalk. When they recovered, the scene around me had changed. We looked to be in a militaristic compound. There was a desk with papers piled on one side while barren walls took up most visual space. The flooring looked cold, flat, and dull.

“Where are we?” I asked Wyl.

The guard captain ignored me and faced a new person that stood opposite the desk.

“Commander, we have a report from your hometown, sir,” the other figure said. I tried to remember why his face looked familiar but couldn’t place the second person.

“What is it, Knight Middleton?” Wyl asked.

I blinked and stuck a hand out. Neither person noticed the action. Knight Middleton’s body offered no resistance as my arm went through him.

“It isn’t good, sir. The report says Travelers attacked”—Knight Middleton held up the letter—“a lot of Locals died in the aftermath.”

“Tell me what you know.” Wyl gave orders even in the face of a confusing situation. The man had never really demonstrated less than a take charge attitude with anyone besides William Carver. Dealing with him felt weird because of our halfway association. I expected friendly and got orders.

I hoped to get him through this without further complication. Then we could all sit down and I would explain everything to Wyl, Xin, the others. Even Beth would get a rehashed unabridged version. Maybe SweetPea could cook up some popcorn. The idea of her shy self supplying treats was amusingly fitting. HotPants wouldn't be the type to offer snacks.

“No one’s sure. The bandits nearby broke into town shortly after and made things worse.” The other man shook his head. “The king offered to send aid but Haven Valley is neutral territory so he is unable to offer much.”

“And my son?” Wyl asked while fingering a bracelet I hadn’t noticed before. It looked to be a small piece of threaded metal that had two tiny jewels in it. He moved the item away before I could fully analyze what it was.

“His body isn’t reported among the deceased, sir,” Knight Middleton said carefully. Even an indistinct face still managed to look wary though most of it was in his fidgeting hands.

“Tell me if he’s among the living.”

Knight Middleton hesitated. His face twisted briefly and an unspoken word almost made it out. The man gave up after another attempt then shook his head.

“Does the king know when I may be released from the conscription to see if my family yet lives?” Wyl asked instead.

“No.” Knight Middleton blinked then managed to speak this time. “He said this event only proves the need for more troops.”

Wyl’s face looked barely composed. His eyes wavered slightly and chin vibrated, then he nodded at Knight Middleton

“This isn’t real, Wyl.” I tried to interject in the latest pause. “Your son might still be alive.”

“He’s dead,” Wyl said without focus. “I’m a soldier. I’ve got to prepare myself for the worst.”

“You don’t know for sure, do you?” I asked.

Wyl didn’t hear me, but the red light flashed again. Now I understood better what those moments were in my own nightmares. The scene changers were introduced or triggered by that bright light.

I raised my hand and saw the nearly empty stage. A small table sat in the center. There was a pause between scenes again. Wyl stood and walked steadily to the curtains while that damned red light flooded the scene. I frowned and closed my eyes. The idea that people from my world had caused such grief made me sick. Who in their right mind would attack a town full of living and breathing people?

Then again, who was I to talk? I had dropped a bomb among tons of troopers back in Advance Online. Despite Jeeves’ reassurance that they were little more than cardboard cutouts, it still made me sick. We didn’t think about the damage our actions caused in a virtual world, especially not in the name of quest pursuit.

[Morrigu’s Echo]
sailed swiftly toward the red light and I couldn’t bring myself to feel happy at the sound as the light shattered. Wyl stumbled at the curtain’s edge and grabbed onto the dangling fabric. His body swayed for a moment before feet managed to stand upright. The man’s chest took deep rapid breaths as his gaze shifted around to take in the scene.

I stood there and tried to figure out what words might make this right. I didn’t know what parts of the vision were true or false. Logic told me Wyl had simply never made it home to find out, and those battles where people died were part of a deep rooted fear. Part of me worried that he might be living an actual event repeatedly.

“Tell me where we are, convict,” he ordered.

I sighed and wondered if we would ever move past that label. Maybe Wyl couldn’t let himself, or maybe he didn’t know how else to classify me. My free hand rubbed tense neck muscles.