They, as a group, eyed me as I approached. Was this all the high-ranked Hexed our zone had to offer? Raziel was probably huffing his way back so I expected he would show up when he could.

Compared to this group, Raziel was a shark and these people were guppies.

Twenty people might seem like a large group, especially in terms of finding a table for all of us to sit at, but it paled in comparison to the numbers the Enlightened could produce.

I decided I was looking at it from the wrong perspective. Rarely did leadership structures contain a lot of people at the top.

Hopefully, the Frog had a room we could use. I never got one before so I didn't know if there were ones with privacy. After a bit of thought, it dawned on me that people would likely want rooms to get intimate in so there was a good chance there were options for us. If they would even let us in.

They let Molly in so who knew?

“Hello,” I said with a curt wave.

“She ain't so big,” a dwarven skeleton said. Surprisingly, his white beard was still intact. Glowing amber lights where his eyes should be stared up at me. Fixed atop his head was a brown leather helm. A matching thick hide set of armor covered his body. Long daggers the size of machetes hung at his hip.

My best guess was that he leaned toward the roguish pursuits.

“Duh,” Raccoon said, replying to my thoughts.

A ghost dressed like a businessman passed through several people and stopped next to Molly. “Do we really have to roleplay?”

His hair was slicked back like he was from the 1950s. He and Victor would probably get along pretty well. People could create just about any type of equipment they wanted with the proper crafting skills. He must have paid a lot of money for something so customized.

About five of the people there were in disguises like mine.

Molly nodded at the dwarven man.

“I'm Inethiel,” I said as I advanced on the robed figures. Something was off about them. They kept together and backed up when I reached them.

Their steps were too fast to be anything undead. I released Undead Domination.

My ability could sense them but they were different, something I'd never felt before. When I mentally reached for them I was rebuffed.

What the hell is that? I thought.

I caught glimpses of a shorter one hiding amongst the five that I hadn't noticed before.

An overbearing wave disorientation struck me. If you think you're the only one who can weave your way into someone's mind you are sadly mistaken.

It was a woman's voice.

I narrowed my field so it encompassed the robed group and myself. Their essence seemed to radiate an aura. It was blood red.

Vampires! Are you vampires? Fuck yeah! I projected.

Though I tried to keep my field between myself and the robed ones, a few others were caught up in it.

I knew I'd done something stupid when the robed figures disappeared in front of my eyes.

Shit, I blew that one.

There were three undead caught in my field. I turned to them.

Are any of you streaming?

Two of them were ghosts and one was a shambler.

The first ghost was pretty generic. She looked like a peasant but I didn't dare underestimate her abilities since that was the way I deceived the Enlightened.

N-no, she answered.

The other ghost answered the same way. He was dressed as a knight. I'd never seen a warrior ghost, it was interesting.

As I turned to the shambler, I felt his excitement grow.

Was yours on?

He was decked out in the thickest-looking cloth I had ever seen. It must have been Kevlar or the equivalent. The fabric wasn't fancy like a uniform, it looked like a jumpsuit.

I wasn't, his thoughts cut off. I mean, wasn't when you said what you said but I am now. She's talking to me guys!

Say nothing about what you heard. I sent them all pleasant emotions. We have an upper hand and only the four of us know about it. It may save our lives. I'm trusting you, make sure you all send me a friend request.

The response I got from all of them was excitement. Before they could bombard me with questions I shut down my skill.

Raccoon, can you make sure to accept the friend request from those three? I asked.

Notifications popped up almost immediately. My stomach turned as the pain flooded my brain.

I grabbed my head as the world began to swirl. It must have been worse than I thought because I found myself being led into the frog by two of them.

Either Raccoon didn't respond or I was so disoriented that I couldn't hear him.

I wondered why my skill didn't affect the vampires. I'd worked on my Control Undead ability for about a month before it evolved. I didn't like looking at its numerical rank. Immersive mode told me I was ‘Adapt’ at the evolved skill.

My Unarmed ability, however, was a much higher tier. It was at master rank.

You started as a Novice, then it went from there to Initiate, Intermediate, Adept, Expert, Master, Grandmaster, and then Legend.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

No one had legendary status in any of their skills yet. The amount of experience to take you there was immense.

The other malody hadn't even subsided and another ear piercing ding hit my ears. This time it was a Qmail from Ellen.

The new undead friends led me to a two-seater table and I sat down. The amount of times I was being hit at once was making things worse.

I read the mail to try and distract myself. She informed me that Drain had been restored. They said the skill was acting as if I had maxed it out previously and warned that it would be much less potent than before.

Despite my current state, I was excited. I had a way to charge the Zix sword now and I could finally work at freeing my mind from the AR and VR prison I was in.

Everything began to vibrate as the pain increased. My breaths came in ragged bursts until I lost consciousness.

***

Molly Ann Smith, the third, watched Inethiel struggle to stay awake.

She felt sorry for the girl. Molly had read her real-life profile and was initially skeptical about her medical condition. But after doing her due diligence and gazing through a few of Azerail's experiences, she didn't dare send her a message for fear of causing her harm.

Based on the Wights' condition Molly knew she might have to hold this meeting on Inethiel’s behalf. She knew how important it was to her and wasn't going to let her down.

Raccoon's teeth were clenched in a snarl, while his little hand twisted slowly to the right.

Inethiel passed out, her head falling to the table with a thunk. The second it happened Raccoon’s hand dropped and his snarl faded. His little lip pulled back into his face in what looked like a smirk.

It almost seemed as if the small critter was enjoying Azerail's pain. Molly shook it off as her imagination.

Inethiel told her that Raccoon was her Zix but she wasn't able to set time aside to double check that claim.

Molly had ample experience with the Zix and knew they weren't sentient. Raccoon was different though.

He seemed to like Molly and she was fond of him as well. However, she didn't like the look he was giving Inethiel.

Are you hurting her? Molly asked in party chat.

Raccoon turned to Molly. No, I was trying to help alleviate the pain for her but couldn't get it to help her.

Molly wasn't sure if she believed him but there wasn't anything she could do about it. She decided she would clench the little bugger extra tight a few times to teach him a lesson.

His little arms flailed as she flew outside.

“Let's get a conference room, everyone,” she suggested.

While Inethiel had called for people to come together, Molly was busy behind the scenes messaging all of her old undead buddies. Most of the people who had shown up were her friends.

The group of robed figures Inethiel had noticed were new. After they disappeared and Inethiel nearly passed out, Molly used a couple of the people Inethiel was talking to, to move her inside.

Molly could feel they were all having a mental discussion but was too distracted by her friend Tinky to focus on what they were saying. It was harder for her to hear what she said when she wasn’t in Inethiel’s skills radius.

She wasn't sure why she could hear her thoughts even when she wasn’t in its range but she thought it might have something to do with being her lieutenant. Perhaps Inethiel was doing it without realizing it?

Molly knew Grace, the inn owner, personally.

The group began filing inside. Molly took that opportunity to slip into the inn above everyone's heads. She spotted Grace and descended.

She greeted her, “Hi Grace!”

Grace was, as far as Molly knew, not into roleplay. She was focused on her business and that was it. Money was her main driver.

There was a lot of money to be had in a place where people's main ambition was to get inebriated.

Molly had tried drinking but it had only made her depressed.

“Hey, little one,” Grace said with a smile.

Most people liked Molly but it wasn’t because she had a cute character. Though that may have had some influence, the actual reason people liked her was because she listened.

As Molly hit Grace's eye level she asked, “How's the business going?”

Grace leaned left. “Those deaddies with you?”

“Yeah we need a conference room,” Molly replied.

Grace gestured at Azerail. “And her?”

Azerail was still out and Molly wasn't sure if this was a common thing for her or not. She'd only hung out with her a few times and in every instance she fainted or was disoriented in some way. She would ask Raccoon to make sure.

“I'll bring her inside with us,” Molly said.

Grace nodded. “Go ahead and take C3, it's got a cot in the closet.”

It's she okay? Molly asked in group as she held Raccoon in front of her.

His eyebrows lifted. I'm sure she'll be fine.

Raccoon knew better than she did so she commanded the two who had brought Azerail in to take her to conference room three.

“This way guys!” Molly yelled to the undead players and pointed to Azerail.

It was strange having people do exactly what she wanted. All she had to do was think it and they did it. She only commanded the two carrying Azerail, the rest followed on their own.

Molly turned to Grace, said, “Thanks!” and dashed after her friend.

***

“I don't like it,” Jack said.

He was one of Molly's higher-level friends. Molly didn't start playing the game till a few months after the game launched.

Jack on the other hand started as a zombie and stuck to his guns keeping to a single character.

He was dressed like a pirate, but whenever Molly confronted him about it, he said he was a buccaneer.

Molly didn't know the difference and she didn't care enough to look it up. It was fun poking fun at him about it though.

Azerail turned in the cot, she was sleeping on. She'd been out for at least half an hour.

“Is she ever going to wake up?” Hoppins asked.

Hoppins was clad in red leather armor. He was a resident sneaky type. Or thief, if you wanted to be rude about it. It was tough for a skeleton to be quiet. One wrong move and his bones would clink together giving away his position. They usually only fought the NPC zombies so it didn't matter all that much. He'd gotten good at it either way.

Raccoon was on the table next to Molly. They were the smallest in the group and no one complained when she decided to sit there.

“We know where we need to go,” Molly said. She'd wrangled that much out of Raccoon.

Tinky walked into the table next to Molly. “Yeah, but we don't know why!”

It was strange seeing half his ghostly body protruding from the surface but she loved it. Strange stuff like that always made her feel giddy for some reason.

“I've been out there before, it's full of zombies,” Ponter stated while raising a hand.

Ponter was Molly's first undead friend. He was a zombie-like Azerail and tough as nails. He'd fallen into the roll of the tank with ease. He was dressed like he worked at an old-school mechanic shop.

Molly's dad used to be a mechanic before their accident. He still tinkered with cars but most of the time he just melted into the couch and watched old memories all day.

The only thing they were able to recover of Molly's mom was her implant. The car accident that had nearly taken Molly's life stole her mom's.

An image flashed in Molly's mind. A stump of a body with melted flesh and one arm sat silently under a blanket.

It was her body or what was left of it. She shook her head and cleared the memory from her mind.

A ghost Molly didn't know, stood up. “Mud, too.”

“Whatever you do,” Jack said. “Don't bring a horse named Artax out there.”

Chalvex rolled his eyes. “That's such a lame joke!”

He was a zombie halfling and was dressed like a Victorian gentleman. He was still taller than Molly though.

“Every real story is a never ending story,” Inethiel said as she sat up.

Before anyone could respond a loud pounding came from the door.

Molly's heart might as well have been that plank of wood. She rushed to the door and opened it.

It was Raziel.

Inethiel rubbed her temples. “We have a lot to discuss, everyone.”

The real meeting had just begun.

***