This entire time, Justin had been holding the book, and he put it down on the table. It felt dangerous to even touch. “How did you find so many Earth artifacts, anyway?”
“Carefully. You gain a sense for them eventually, and my magic helps me to extricate them safely. As for how they come to be here, well, they have been brought by Earthers themselves.”
“What made you think I was from Earth?”
“I’m good at reading people, both a product of my class and my Charisma. It was why I offered you the job, so I could learn more. But a lie about your origins, as you did, wasn’t enough proof. So, I placed the Mark upon you, while my agent reported your conversation, as you already mentioned.”
“And that agent is dead, I assume?”
The Baron smiled. “The man I sent is completely loyal. I erased his memories to be on the safe side. But his intel confirmed my suspicions. Alistair was already meddling around, so I had to strike quickly. Unfortunately, you ran before I could further explain myself.”
“What about Gareth? If he wasn’t so hostile, it might have won my trust.”
“He had orders to kill Alistair only, as Paladins cannot be trusted. Gareth was the best person I had on hand to deal with him, and the intention was to bring you to my manor and then reveal myself. While Alistair was doing what he thought was right, you must remember he was bringing you to someone who would ultimately prove to be your demise.”
Justin thought back to the conversation he’d overheard in the Silver Stag. Eldrin had mentioned Justin had an interesting story to the Paladin, but it wasn’t his place to tell. As far as Justin could figure, Alistair’s intentions were pure. Hell, Justin had even told him where he had come from in their very first conversation, a fact that had slipped his mind until now. Even then, the names “Earth” and “Oklahoma” hadn't rung any bells. The man clearly didn’t understand the supposed implications of Justin’s origins.
“And your goal is to leave Eyrth?” Justin asked. “Alistair thinks you’re after an Ascendant Class. Something only a Prismatic Core can give you.” Justin paused. “It might even be worth murdering me for.”
Justin did his best to read the Baron’s face, but it remained unchanged, perfectly neutral. “I see you as a potential ally, Justin.”
“That’s it? How can I possibly benefit you?”
“We come from the same world. Of all the people who occupy this game, you are the only one I can trust. I’m taking a significant risk in telling you all this. If I merely wanted power, I would wait to ambush you in Thalgar’s Tunnel rather than reveal myself so openly. Wouldn’t you rather work together?”
Justin supposed that was his strongest point. Why waste his time with explanations if he could have just killed him? Maybe the Baron wanted to work with him, but that didn’t mean his intentions were good.
“Tell me about these other Earthers. The Terra Club, I guess. What happened there?”
“It was going well, at least for a while. But we became too bold in our aspirations. The Club, of course, has existed in some form or other over the centuries, though it’s difficult to say just how far it goes back. It fades in and out of existence, depending on the needs of the time. At the time of my presidency, The Aranthian Chapter had a record ten members, but it all fell apart over some…disagreements. We felt it better to go our separate ways.”
“What disagreements?”
“Some members wanted to act more boldly, that we had gained enough power to get more directly involved in the politics of this world. Others, like me, felt we needed to stay in the shadows. And others still concluded that there was no way back to Earth, that we had to find our own happiness here. Sadly, the differences could not be reconciled, and the Club was doing more harm than good. I ended up dissolving it, and that was that.”
“Do you know where these other Earthers are?”
“Some, but I will not betray their identities or locations. It is a courtesy we have for each other. Some have sadly passed away. I haven’t seen a fellow Earther in about five years, which was when I dissolved the Club.”
“I thought you hadn’t seen an Earther in eight years.”
“You misunderstood. The last time I met a new Earther was eight years ago. The last time I saw an Earther was five years ago. Of course, your beloved Templars had a hand in it, as they always do. So, for now, as far as I know, all of us are in hiding.” Valdrik eyed him closely. “That’s why an alliance with you is valuable, even more so than a Prismatic Core. Perhaps you are weak now, but you won't always be. Like you, I started as a Socialite. I can help you progress much faster than you would alone.”
Justin still thought the Baron was full of shit, but he had to at least pretend he was buying it somewhat. “Maybe you have a point, Valdrik, but you put a Death Mark on me. So why should I listen?”
“If you agree to collaborate with me, I will happily remove the Mark. What do you say? Do you want to find the way back home? Or keep living in Fantasy Land?”
Justin would believe that when it happened. “Okay, Morpheus.”
“Yes, Justin. The analogy is very apt. I became a Lexicant because it’s a class that allows me to manipulate reality—or more accurately, the unreality—of this world using words and Charisma. If there’s a way into this world, then there must be a way out, and maybe we can even control that outcome.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “We were brought here through no fault of our own, and if there’s a higher purpose, I’m certain it doesn’t serve us. We can either get lost in the illusion—some Earthers I’ve known have made that choice—or we can see it for what it is and use it to our advantage. I choose the latter, and I believe you should, too.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Justin thought this over, but he still had trouble wrapping his mind around it. It was all too much, too soon. He wasn’t ready to let go, and he knew he couldn’t trust Valdrik.
And yet, he couldn’t poke any holes in his logic. It was a way of seeing this world, even if he didn’t agree with it.
“What happens if I say no?”
“If you say no, Justin, then I will be disappointed, but I hope you will change your mind later. I would ask to have your word as a gentleman to reveal nothing of me or my ambitions and give your assurance that your friends will say nothing, either. As a sign of good faith, I will also remove the Mark, to show that my intentions are pure.”
Justin’s pulse quickened. “Okay. I choose that, then.”
“Think carefully, Justin. I’m offering you power, knowledge, and a way to survive—even a way home. If you say no, you’ll find out just how unforgiving this world can be for Earthers—without allies to save you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a warning. You must remember your friends are simply agents of this game. Though it might not feel like it, I’m the only real person you’ve spoken to ever since you’ve set foot on Eyrth.”
Justin forced himself to think about it. Of course, he was in a game, but the mere thought of everyone being a sophisticated agent was beyond unsettling. Especially where it concerned Lila. It made every relationship he’d formed, every bond he’d built, feel fragile and meaningless.
When he looked Lila in the eyes, it didn’t feel like he was talking to an AI. She couldn’t just be a figment of a complex game system, no more real than pixels on a screen. Could she?
Even if this was a game, there were compelling arguments that his own universe was just a simulation too. Did that make it any less real?
Certainly, the Baron was smooth and persuasive—a product of his class and abilities. It made little sense that he would show up here and explain himself if his offer weren’t genuine.
So, the question became what happened if Justin said no. He couldn’t imagine the Baron letting him or the others walk out of this alive.
The Baron watched him closely, his gaze sharp and calculating. Justin realized Valdrik might already know what he was going to decide. But that didn’t mean he had to play into his hands.
“I can’t make this choice lightly,” Justin finally said, his voice steady. “I’m not ready to give up on the people I care about. Maybe they’re real, maybe they’re not, but they matter to me. If there’s even a chance they’re more than code, I can’t walk away from that.”
Valdrik’s expression darkened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.
“So, here’s my decision,” Justin continued. “I won’t go with you. Not yet. I need time to process all of this, to figure out what’s real and what’s not. After everything that’s happened, I simply can’t trust you. Removing this Death Mark would help, but I still need more time. If you’re trying to find a way out of here, we’ll cross paths again. I’m sure of it. But for now, I’m staying where I am. This isn't a yes or a no. I’m doing it my way, and you need to respect that.”
Justin knew he was taking an enormous risk, but it was the only option that worked for him.
At last, the Baron broke his silence. “All of you know too much, Justin. How can I trust not just you, but three others?”
“Because they're worthy of trust. I wouldn’t be with them if they weren’t. If I ask them to keep their lips sealed, they will. I swear it. Remove the Mark. Live and let live.”
The Baron smirked as he considered this. “You are bold, I’ll give you that. And you have me believing you. Almost.”
“Do we have a deal?”
Valdrik’s eyes narrowed, but then he smiled—a tight, controlled expression. “They say Charisma is the weakest Attribute, but if you look at who controls the flow of conversation, who wins arguments, who rules the world—it is the Charisma classes. Would you rather be the warrior swinging the sword, or the ruler giving the order? But I digress. My point was that your words, Justin, have convinced me—at least for now. I’m going to agree to your terms on one condition. We will meet again on September 21 next year, a date of great importance for both of us. We will meet at my home in Silverton, and you will give me a more definitive answer. It gives you plenty of time to figure out how to make your way in this world, to become stronger. I would like us to check on each other’s progress and share whatever information we’ve gained. It could be the key to getting back home.”
Justin nodded. “I suppose that’s fair.”
“But be warned: the more you intertwine yourself in the false lives of these figments of a dream, the more you become like them, and the harder it will be to extricate yourself. The world you’re choosing to stay in is filled with illusions. One day, you’ll have to confront that reality, and when you do, I hope you’re ready for it.”
Justin nodded, his resolve firming. “Maybe. But for now, I’ll take my chances.”
Valdrik stood, his posture still relaxed but his eyes calculating. “Very well. I’ll honor our agreement.”
“And I’ll honor my side.”
The Baron smiled. “If my instincts are right, you will rise high in this world. All Earthers whose ambitions are unchecked do. But you also must be extremely careful not to rise too high, too fast. And whatever you do, stay far from Mont Elea and the Templars. It’s not just the Paladins who serve them. Their agents are everywhere, and if one has already caught wind of you, it may already be too late. Know that if you go your own way, there is nothing I can do to protect you.”
Justin nodded. “I understand. Thanks for the advice.”
“But first, a gentleman’s agreement. I require that you and your friends to speak no word about me or my ambitions to anyone, in exchange for removing the death mark, on pain of death. Look me in the eye as you swear it.”
Justin met his gaze. At least at this moment, he had no intention of betraying the Baron’s confidence, unless the Baron proved himself unworthy of it. “I swear it, Valdrik.”
Valdrik nodded, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Good. That was your last test. And now, I will fulfill my side of the bargain in good faith.”
At that moment, the Baron muttered a few words in Vranthillis: “Nethralis Orinthial Rethik.”
A cold sensation washed over Justin, and it felt as if an invisible shroud had been removed, a touch of warmth infusing into his bones. Justin closed his eyes in relief.
Valdrik gave him a final, inscrutable look before turning away, his figure disappearing into the crowd as if he had never been there.
Justin stood frozen, his eyes widening as the message flashed before him:
[1,000 experience gained! Your experience stands at 1,319/940. Level-up available!]
Justin nearly sputtered in disbelief. One thousand? That was more experience than he’d ever gained in a single event.
His mind raced, trying to make sense of it. How could a conversation—if that’s what you could call his tense exchange with the Baron—be worth so much? It wasn’t as if he’d fought a powerful beast or cleared an entire Vault on his own.
Then it hit him. The experience wasn’t just from talking. It was from surviving. From standing toe-to-toe with a much more powerful opponent and walking away with a sliver of control. It was about surviving the mechanizations of someone who could have easily crushed him and navigating the perilous waters of deceit and manipulation.
Whatever the reason, the System clearly saw something in what he’d done that he hadn’t fully grasped yet. It wasn’t about surviving a dangerous encounter; it was about doing so in a way that leveraged every ounce of cunning and Charisma he had.
His heart pounded as he stood there, the reality of his decision—and its consequences—sinking in.
He hurried through the crowd to find his friends. It was time to leave.