Interlude from the surface.
Transmigrator
"I'm doing this." "And I'm saying you shouldn't." "And I'm saying I will." Silent words echo between the trees of a densely packed deciduous forest, white bark turned grey by the near-opaque canopy of dull green leaves steadily fading into a grey of their own. Wind blows through the intangible form stalking across the forest floor, feet stepping across mock earth in imitation of the real environment. "Keep in mind, it is my anchor you are borrowing. It would be trivial for me to keep you here until you change your mind." "You've tried that once before. I broke out." "I can pull you deeper, beyond the scope you can hope to escape without an anchor of your own." "..."
Auvic halts his step, the world flowing all the same without his motion, his body not even there. "I wasn't going to bring it up, but you've been acting strange." "..." "When I faced the world titan, you encouraged me. Even after I died several times you spurred me on until I beat an enemy I was hopelessly outclassed against." The doll twists its neck, a gesture of indiscernible intent held within her expression. "That was to teach you persistence, and to numb your fear of death." "And with the demon lord, you advised me against fighting him. You correctly determined I was outclassed, yet you never stopped me from trying. And I eventually succeeded." A dark abyss opens up within her eyes, something crawling, scraping at the edges to get out. "To teach you independence. An AcrylonThe pioneer cannot rely too heavily on their KronicThe gifted." "Then what are you trying to teach me now?" "Your limits."
Auvic's eyes gape dead into the void, an unphased stare with a hint of something... spicy? "You're slipping. I'm fully aware the limits of my strength, and you know it. This is the first time you've actually threatened me, so I know it's more than you're leading on. What is so different about this Faux character?" "Nothing." Mauve tendrils poke from each orifice of the doll, tugging and prying free in a beautifully unsettling display. "You know that only encourages me more." The tentacles recede, head falling limp with a frustrated puff of wind. "Fine. I chose this planet for its ample and diverse forms of adversity, yet this timing was clearly a mistake. Beings beyond the scope of your understanding have taken an interest in this world, making our best course of action to leave, which is currently infeasible. To stay we must do nothing, wait until this event blows over lest we get involved. Though I suspect it may already be too late..." Perhaps so.
Spider
Eight pale white legs cling to the underside of a branch, dozens of cyan eyes absorbing the world from a perfectly symmetric shell of a creature which really can't be called a spider. Each eye watches from the mandala of vision on its back, light of all frequencies and all directions pried and scrutinised as she stalks her target. So it's this joker again. Why is he so near to caster? Has he found me out? Is he a cop? I'm innocent! In most countries... She wraps around the branch, her body an almost flat disc as it slides from trunk to branch, and branch to trunk, all the while keeping a healthy portion of eyes locked on her blonde interloper.
Her target wanders the forest seemingly without aim, turning here, then there, stopping periodically to inspect a stream, or to peel away at tree bark. We have ourselves a bonafide zoologist. And a shitty one at that. Not even noting anything down. Maybe he'd get along with the elf? Nah, he'd have a field day with this- Ah! There it is again! A dozen eyes narrow on the faintest speck of shadow beneath the canopy, a vague silhouette of two orbs barely within the realm of perceptibility where light seems to be sucked away. I knew I wasn't seeing things! Maybe he's haunted. Fuehehe... What if he spreads it to me though... Are ghosts contagious?
Programmer
"I can't eat any more..." "Yes you can." "No, I can't... I'll explode..." "With happiness. Now finish your last bite of dessert before I buy you another." A shaky hand reaches for the ornate fork discarded aimlessly by its plate, lifting and pressing it into the sugar-filled sponge, oozing out thick droplets of syrup from the pressure. The warm scent of fresh apricots and vanilla waft closer and closer, the amber chunk lingering by the precipice of taste. Lips pry apart, saliva primed and ready to begin digesting the delectable treat as a pink, malleable tongue reaches out to feel, to taste, to burst over the coagulated sweetness of syrup, the gentle savoury brush of the cake, and a soothing wash of cream softening the load as it falls away with a gulp.
Ghost collapses in blissful defeat, her body battered, beaten, and a little swollen under the onslaught of fine dining. Ah... She was right. Every bite was worth the cavities... and stomach ache... "Glad you enjoyed yourself." Aeryth coos, her two chairs scooting back as she stands. "Hey wait... You're going already?" "I have a job to do here. They're pretty strict about my work hours too, you wouldn't believe what it took to get even one hour a day to spend with you." "You already told me what it took..." "And you still don't believe me, ergo I'm correct." Who would believe you of all people would willingly stand in one place for hours on end? In the middle of a festival no less!
"Either way, we both need this job, so there's no getting around it. Ah, did you do what I asked with the psycho?" Ghost slumps more, practically lying down in her chair as she lets out a frustrated groan. "I tried but the tracker wouldn't stick..." "I thought that might be the case. It seems magic based tracking just doesn't work on him, so we'll have to stick with the old fashioned method. Thanks anyway." Aeryth lift from her seat, her head still crouched to avoid the ceiling of the small establishment. Leaving a pouch of coins on the table she steps away, only to pause at the gentle tug on her sleeve. "Before you go, there's something I want you to try."
Small hands lift the sleeve, exposing the the Herculean forearm beneath. Pulling out a stamp, Ghost imprints a condensed network of symbols and patterns, blowing it dry before planting a finger and causing it to glow a gentle sky-blue. "There, now say status." "Uh, status..." Ghost waits for a result, nought but the hum of magic and a changed focus of Aeryth's gaze. "Did it work?" "I see a blue square in front of me." "It worked! It's a prototype I'm working on for communications. It's short range for now, and still uses my MP on both ends so don't overdo it. Oh, and make sure you don't damage the array either. Obviously." "They call it Mana in this world, you'll have to get used to that." "Ah, right. I always forget." "So, will this thing turn on every time I say status? It'll get annoying whenever I ask for a status report." "You can change the command in the settings." "Settings?" "The gear icon in the corner." "Gear?" "..."
Ranker
Aeryth steps out into the open air, leaving behind the fancy restaurant and strolling to her post. It's so much quieter than the first day, even yesterday was noisier. I suppose I never stayed in one place during past festivals, they must move around more than I thought. Laying back against a wall, she stares at the empty plaza, boredom already sinking in after mere moments of nothingness. I suppose this would be a good time to test Ghost's new toy. "Ostende." Energy springs to life in front of her, congealing into a flat disc and pinching at the corners to form a pale blue panel. White symbols etch themselves onto the panel, drawing a frame and filling it with icons as text begins to form in the centre.
> Process initialising...
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> Authenticating user...
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> User BuffChik has been authenticated.
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> Welcome to GhostComms user BuffChik. This demo only contains one group chat for now. You will be redirected shortly.
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> Connecting to group chat Test123 sync point...
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> Connected.
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> User BuffChik has joined.
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> Current users 2/10
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> Type a message below:
Man, this interface is confusing... I guess I just tap the letter symbols one at a time? Seems tedious if you ask me. What should I- Ping!
> PageVirtue: You joined! Miss me already?
Wow, she's quick... I should reply.
> BuffChik: How could I not? This job is boring as hell!
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> PageVirtue: I could always join you
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> PageVirtue: Being alone around this many people kinda sucks
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> BuffChik: Already asked. Kav doesn't want me to have any distractions. He'll "dock points" if I'm not paying enough attention.
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> PageVirtue: Darn
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> If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
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> PageVirtue: Does this not count as a distraction?
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> BuffChik: Not if I'm sneaky about it. What does PageVirtue mean anyway?
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> PageVirtue: Oh, it's a pun on page-fault, an exception that occurs when a program attempts to access an address space which hasn't been mapped to a page in physical memory yet. Unlike segmentation-faults they're not really errors, but instead signals for the MMU to load it into memory, except for some hardware of course. I used to get them all the time as exceptions back when I worked with graphics hardware
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> BuffChik: I understood exactly none of that.
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> PageVirtue: It's a shitty programmer joke
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> BuffChik: Now that I understand.
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> User shothas has joined.
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> Current users 3/10
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> shothas: hey this looks fun :)
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> PageVirtue: What
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> PageVirtue: The fuck
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> PageVirtue: This is a private connection how did you join??
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> BuffChik: Is this one of your colleagues?
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> PageVirtue: I'm a solo dev!
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> shothas: it looked like u were having fun so i decided to join in (:
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> PageVirtue: How?!?
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> PageVirtue: Who even are you??
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> shothas: am i not welcome 0oO
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> shothas: i felt some mana doing funny things and decided to take a look :D
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> BuffChik: Can't you just kick this guy if they're a problem?
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> PageVirtue: I haven't implemented that feature yet...
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> shothas: want my help :3
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> PageVirtue: No
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> PageVirtue: How did you even hack this?
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> PageVirtue: That shouldn't even be possible
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> shothas: im good with magic 0v0
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> shothas: you used maroltin style runesmithing and modified it with magnus style rune casting for adaptability 8)
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> shothas: but more adaptability makes outside injections easier 0w0
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> shothas: your interface is cute tho even if english is a weird choice of language <3
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> PageVirtue: Fuck
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> PageVirtue: Who even are you?
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> PageVirtue: You'd have to be skilled to pull this off, but I don't know of anyone in this city who both could and would
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> shothas: is that because ur a god seed O-o
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> PageVirtue: Who told you that?!
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> BuffChik: You should have asked what a god seed is. Now they know you are one.
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> PageVirtue: Shit
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> shothas: i have many good ears in this city -.o
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> BuffChik: Do you know what a god seed is?
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> shothas: over the years i have heard many things and pieced together many secrets 0×0
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> shothas: i have a rough idea of the concept (-:
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> shothas: what will you give in return >:)
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> BuffChik: What do you want?
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> shothas: for now nothing .^.
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> shothas: ill give u a freebie though as a friendly hello X3
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> shothas: the aoan word for god seed is solo'ahosayul which translates literally as very small perfect soul 8/
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> shothas: or more appropriately as infant god \İ/
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> shothas: thats all from me see you again next time :P
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> User shothas has left.
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> PageVirtue: Infant god?
Cultivator
Scritch. Scritch. A gentle hand pulls away at the bark of a white tree, turned grey under shade from the densely packed canopy of dull green leaves steadily fading into a grey of its own. Yet the vibrant world seems to pass through the scrutinising gaze of the blonde swordsman, trees mere points of interest in his languid yet tenacious search, and rustling leaves less than background noise. His senses focus on the narrow strips of lingering qi dotting the environment, pieces of a puzzle steadily being connected as he traverses the forestscape. His eyes diverge for nothing, his fingers surgically plucking and kneading each mote of energy, until...
An intent, not quite malice, lacking any form of hatred yet locking onto him like a curious child deciding to break a toy. An instant motion responds, hand to blade, and blade to air in a perfect sweep which shakes the forest once from the outward burst of wind, and once again from the resulting implosion. Birds react first, flittering away from the sound in flocks, followed by numerous rodents scampering from the vicinity, and then larger creatures taking no time for consideration before sprinting away. Nothing more happens, no reactions beyond that of the forest.
Transmigrator
Auvic shudders, the phantom sensation of being cleaved in two prickling at his midsection. All I did was decide to attack him, what even are this guy's senses? Still, this opportunity won't happen twice. "Quick, let me out now. Please?" He requests, his hand taking a firm grip of his ornate blade. "Fine." His body is pulled in a direction beyond his capability to conceive of, tugging him back to the solid world in a burst of air and leaves as he occupies the space they once held. In that instant he arrived, his blade draws a straight line, running clean across Faux's neck as the cultivator bends back to avoid decapitation. Steel clashes together, the return strike parried not a moment too soon and followed with a strike to the cultivator's heart. Before it can land, Auvic pulls back, a small cut along his chest drawn by the swift blade he narrowly missed, and they take up a distance.
"Ah, the swordsman boy. I take it you're here for another sparring match?" Faux queries, the rasp in his voice clearing audibly as his sliced throat pulls itself back together. "Funfunfun, you could say that I suppose. I enjoyed our last one so much, and was oh so disappointed when it was interrupted." The adversaries both narrow the distance, each step forward that of a casual stroll, as if walking up to greet a friend. "Though I find it strange you would bring your doll to a-" Faux interrupts his own words, a high rising kick slamming into Auvic's lower jaw immediately followed by the curving arc of a greatsword pummelling the air with shock-waves as it barrels towards the boy's exposed flesh, clashing against decorated steel and shattering the smaller blade. The impact, dulled by a partially successful block, throws Auvic to the side, crushing him through a tree before he catches himself. Tricky bastard...
Auvic pulls himself straight, dusting his clothes and tossing the splintered remnants of his hilt to the side. Unfastening a pouch tied to his belt, he sticks his hand inside and rummages. "Hmm... What should I do now then? Healing potions are pretty useless to me now, so I guess another weapon is all I need. There should be another sword in here. Maybe a bigger one this time." He mulls, gripping the contents and pulling out a pristine blade with a single honed edge, much larger than the bag and even himself, a glistening red adorning the enormous hunk of sharp metal. The boy throws a few test swings, easily tossing around what must be ten times his own body weight like a plastic toy, bursts of wind rippling across the foliage from each motion. "This should do. Let's give it another go then."
A muffled explosion rocks the trees surrounding his former position, distance once again closed as they both reach in for another swing. Trunks are divided from their roots and set alight by friction in a radius around their swipes, the detonation of their clash barely contained as wood, leaves, and even soil burn away. "Careful there. If we don't keep quiet someone will notice us." Auvic jeers. "Perhaps I want us to be noticed." Faux claims. "And perhaps both of you should just shut the fuck up!" A new voice commands.
Earth is flattened to stone, fire snuffed out by the powerful crush of gravity and swords chained to the ground by their own increased mass. Both turn to the new interloper, an inhuman expression dragging at the immaculate, pale skin of the face attached to the short girl hovering above them. Long, white hair flows, not with the wind, but with an unseen force gripping in random directions. An uncanny visage, clearly human, yet blatantly anything but. "Ah... She's my type." Auvic whispers under his voice. "Don't get any ideas." The doll chides.
"Why do you idiots have to make noise here of all places! Are you trying to get me found out?! Go take your bullshit elsewhere before Kav shows up you raging oxygen bandits!" "We were just playing around, isn't that ri-" "If you want to play then go join the other infants in the nursery! Stop screwing around in the one place that happens to be a problem for me specifically!" "There's really no need to be so-" "Shut it, blondy! Like anyone would believe the words of a slab of concrete like you! If you took a personality test, you'd fail it!"
Auvic twitches, stepping forward in irritation only for his face to plunge into the hard ground under a sudden increase in force. "What? Is the baby mad? 'Cause I'm fucking apoplectic! Idiots like you are the reason the gene pool needs lifeguards! You're about as useful to the world as a sandwich full of soup! Do the world a service and carry around a plant to replace all the oxygen you waste!"
Faux stands in serene calm, simply watching the display with a chuckle, unaffected by the mounting gravity. "Don't think that being quiet gives you a personality! The only funny thing that came out of your entire family lineage was your face! Go teach your parents to embrace their mistakes so they can give you a hug!"
"This is getting quite out of-" "Oh, the creepy and mysterious sock puppet speaks! Fan-fucking-tastic! Go find the child that drew you and stay there! Or rather, don't! Your face would probably make all the blind kids cry again! The language we're speaking has over one million words yet I could never string enough of them together to adequately express how much I want to hit you with a fucking chair right now!"
"Gah! I'm going to have to move again because of you! Fuck!" The force bends, throwing the pair away and slamming them with a few broken trees for good measure, the girl floating away and shouting the entire forest into submission. I seem to have even learned a few new forms of profanity from this, how interesting.
"Well then. Are we going to continue?" Faux asks, turning to face Auvic with an unshaken smile. "Fuck that, I'm not in the mood. I'm going back to my hotel." "Finally..."