White cubes littered the white floor like the aftermath of a hailstorm. Adam lay in the center of it all, eyes rolled back into his head, his clothes drenched in sweat and dried blood. Esther’s barrage had torn cuts and pummeled bruises on his skin. She spilled enough of his infernal fluids to engorge a vampire to death. The virtual world reverted any damage in milliseconds for it all to happen again. She stood in the same position, dressed immaculately, clapping her hands.
"Congratulations, Adam, you've succeeded! You've broken into the second rank of the MIGHT Attribute and learned the [Psycho-Crush] technique. Well done." Esther said, still dressed immaculately. Her claps rang through the empty space.
"Go...to..." Adam choked and sat up. He spat out a glob of spit. "...hell."
"Aw, did you not enjoy the exercise? The techies will be disappointed." Esther said. "It was only a fortnight’s worth, anyhow. Intermediate War Maidens go through months at a time."
"I saw you." Adam raised a shaking finger in the smirking girl's direction. He lost track of the number of times he spent throwing and catching cubes with [Psychokinesis], but it probably reached the thousands. "You were fucking getting off to this. I know. Secondly, if you're this strong, tell your damn goddess to come down here and relieve me, god damn it."
"Didn't you remember what I told you? The location you're in is a place--"
"Where she cannot travel. Yeah, I do. I don't get the reason. You're here, aren't you? And she took me from Earth too. Is it that hard for the goddess's angels or whatever to take responsibility for their own damn people?" Adam said.
Esther's smirk vanished. "Yes, in this case, it is."
"Why? Is it because of that red energy?"
"It's a factor. But Adam, have you tried to squeeze an ice cube through a small hole? You can’t do it all at once. You have to let the ice melt and have the water trickle in bit by bit, otherwise, you’ll damage the block or the surrounding area. The same applies here. That’s why She employs agents—War Maidens, ADO members, Apostles, and Chosens—to act where she cannot." She hopped off her seat and walked up to him. Adam ignored her hand and staggered to his feet by himself.
"You can grumble as much as you want, but it is your reality. Since I'm appearing in your unconsciousness, but that would denote me a Herald."
"I don't need you to tell me that." Adam snapped. "Why do you think I'm here? I'm adapting. As you said, we earthlings don't have your fancy goddess, so we do shit ourselves. It’d help if I knew what a Chosen was supposed to do."
"Save the War Maidens and the rest of Her children. I thought it was straightforward." Esther said.
"What, no songs I gotta sing? No blood sacrifices or whatever the hell your hokey religion wants?" Adam asked. Esther’s lips tightened, but she did not rise to the bait.
"I can do whatever I want?"
"Yes, She will allow it."
"Are you serious?"
"Astraea is not in a position to be picky." Esther said. "It’s not as if I can influence you outside these dream-states. She will permit it, as long you remain human by the end, so your choices are your own. Oh, don’t act so surprised. Do you think we are some group of uncompromising, tech-infused sociopaths?"
"Ain’t the words I would’ve used to describe my thoughts. But hey, they come close!" Adam said.
Esther smiled. "You’ll find we’re full of surprises."
The sky rumbled, as if parting for a thunderstorm. Flecks of matter sprouted up from the ground and rose into the air.
"Our time is up. Well done for today! She will be pleased with your progress," Esther said. "Don't enter another one of these courses for at least 48 hours. Your plasma synapses will have expanded, but you need to exercise them in the real world. Also, make sure to spend some time with Lucy!"
He must have displayed something akin to apprehension, because she then called out. "She’s going to be your companion for a long time! Everyone wants to be comforted, Adam!"
The ground cracked, rose up and he found himself shooting back the way he came. He woke up with a jolt. The air tasted dry. The lights in the Prayer Hell stung his eyeballs. Lucy's hands were on his shoulders.
"Chosen? Chosen!" He could see the curvature of her cheeks, her blonde bangs swaying back and forth, and marks like sparkles inside her irises. She smelled like alcohol cleanser and a faint whiff of lemon. "Are you awake, Chosen?"
He scrambled back, pushing Lucy off him. His bottom scraped against the hard floor. She tottered for a moment, then regained her balance.
"Sorry!" Lucy cried, putting her hands up, "I was trying to check if you were lucid. You were unconscious for hours!"
"Hours?" Adam mumbled. He checked the time. Four hours, to be exact. A one to eighty-four ratio of time dilation, he thought with an encroaching sense of dread. "Fuck…I mean, it’s okay. You were just checking on me. What did I do?"
"You didn’t move. You sat there like a statue. I’ve heard of Apostles meditating for longer, but not beginners!" Lucy said. Her gaze was fraught with concern. "How are you feeling?"
"Nothing broken…I think."
His mind felt like it was drenched in mud. Pins and needles overtook his legs as he stood up. He leaned against the pillar, rubbing dirt out of his eyes and heard his stomach rumble. He saw a rock lying on the ground. He levitated it up to eye level. Esther’s voice echoed.
"Arrows stabbing it in all directions. Your fingers pressing it down on thirty-six angles, grinding it to dust. Imagine it, Adam."
He did what he learned, and couldn’t help but grin at Lucy’s gasp as the rock crumbled into gravel.
Hell yeah. He thought. Then: God, I am so hungry.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
User Adam Westfield’s MIGHT has increased to 2!
New Mystic Technique acquired: [Psycho-Crush]
Experience (Training) acknowledged: 30%
----------------------------------------
A day passed. Adam crawled through the rest of the available buildings, hacking computers and crawling into any nooks or crannies he could find. It resulted in him reaching only 95% experience. Frustrating.
He was practising his new mystic techniques in the yard when he received a notice.
Transmission Detected. Source: Miriam Pereia. Would User Adam Westfield like to receive?
Do it! He commanded.
Miriam’s voice floated in. He saw her in the viewport. She’d made an effort to clean up her hair, though bags still clung to the undersides of her eyes. "Adam."
"Hey, Miriam." He said.
"You aren’t the Chosen." Miriam spat the words as if they had been bulging in her cheeks all this time. She crossed her arms, still glaring, expecting. Adam just sat still and blinked. There was a strange emotion curling in his gut, spiteful yet triumphant. Finally, someone said it. Too bad it was a couple of days too late.
"Whatever you say, Miriam," Adam said. "You ready to talk yet?"
"You are not the Chosen. I don’t know, nor care, what that War Maiden has said, but I don’t believe that you, of all people, are the one She sent to fix this nightmarish excuse of a MOB."
"And here I thought you missed me with that little breakdown yesterday. Guess you’re fine after all. Don’t tell me you’re still jealous that I took down Lucy instead of all the other guys." Adam said. Miriam leaned back in her seat, eyes up at the ceiling, before she slowly slouched back into position.
"You got lucky."
"Yeah, I know."
"That War Maiden do anything to you?"
"No, not yet. She thinks I’m the Chosen, after all. She won’t leave me alone."
Miriam made an amused grunt. "I cannot envy you, Adam. I'd enact the chain of command, but I'm a million stretches away from your location, and that War Maiden would defer to you in her delusions anyway."
"Chosen, who are you talking to?" Lucy poked her head through the doorway. A portable vacuum cleaner—a recent fix of Penny’s—was clutched in her hands. Adam waved her over.
"Miriam." He said. "She finally got her shit together."
"Oh, that’s wonderful!" Lucy said, clasping her hands. "What’s she saying?"
Adam hesitated. On one hand, this was sure to piss Lucy off. On the other, she’d likely find out anyway.
"She doesn’t believe I’m the Chosen." Adam said.
The reaction was instantaneous. Lucy’s hands fell by her side. She walked over and stood next to him. "I’m joining the call."
He let her in without protest.
"Hello, Communications Operator Miriam Pereia." Lucy said, tone frosty. "This is First Class Novice War Maiden Lucy Klavdia. May I ask what you were discussing with the Chosen?"
"Great, it’s you." Miriam groaned.
"Please answer my question."
"He’s not the Chosen."
"With all respect, Operator Pereia, I think you’re mistaken."
"He’s a man. He’s way too late. He only beat you out of sheer luck."
"Not all Chosens were female—that’s not even a relevant point," Lucy said. She folded her arms, "It matters not that he didn’t arrive in time, only that he is here now. I’m sure there is something terribly wrong about this world that only She understands at the moment. And there is, oh I don’t know, the fact that I’m talking to you right now?"
"Did you think that on the spot, or recite that?" Miriam said.
Lucy glared straight into her viewport. "Have you tried communing with her? I have. I know there was nil where Her thread used to be and my memories are all jumbled. You lived for years, uncorrupted, when others did not, so you must know!"
"You think I’m stupid? Of course, I have. So, the gate has been opened and Her presence is trickling back in. That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s the Chosen! Didn’t they teach you anything about correlation in the Academy?"
"Operator Pereia, I literally felt him reach into my soul and convert that terrible corruption into Stellari."
"Oh, now I know your head is full of rot. You War Maidens are so—"
"Oi, Miriam, quit it with your schizo rambling!" Adam interjected. "You didn’t come here just to argue. What do you want? Spit it out."
Miriam slugged down a mug of steaming liquid. In the background, her computers hummed, translucent blue cables pumping some kind of light through their sleek bodies. She spat residue into a wastepaper basket on the table. Lucy wrinkled her nose at the whole affair.
"A routine check, like all Operators should. I did watch this place for ten years," Miriam said, "I see you’ve been busy. How many of these buildings are still functional?"
"Barracks, Prayer Hall, Medbay A, Water Storage, Electricity and the Meeting Rooms," Adam recited.
"Who’s the other person with you?"
"Penny," Adam said. "She managed to fix up one of the stealth cloaks, so she’s working on machines. We can’t afford to be picky."
"She’s the other person I detected, then. She going to be a problem?"
"She’s terrified of Lucy, so no. I’ve got a question. Where the hell are you? We checked the rest of the buildings and they’re all locked or destabilized. Lucy couldn’t detect any other casters in the area. You remote?"
"Yes. I’m hunkered down in a wasteland, living off wildlife, rations, and a bunker that got spatially transported here. It had a working communications relay installed, and it just so happened that a communications satellite was also taken in with us. It’s somehow still active. That and my [Clairvoyance] mystic is how I’ve been monitoring the MOB."
"You mentioned a wasteland." Lucy said. "Why have you not left it?"
Miriam gave a bitter laugh. "You think it’s that easy? A War Maiden created it!"
Lucy went still.
"That’s right, First Class Novice! The red doesn’t like your kind’s fancy augmentations and mystics. When the corruption took hold, they escaped the MOB and fled into the wild! They’ve made this world even more terrible than it originally was. I can’t step a dozen stretches without radiation seeping into my veins!"
"They’re all…corrupted?" Lucy whispered. Her hands shook. Adam flinched as pressure overcame his mystic senses. Lucy’s body emitted a faint yellow glow.
"What did you think would happen, Novice? That they’d resist the corruption without Her Providence? That they were strong enough over ten years alone, afraid and amongst the horrid red? Don’t be naïve, little girl!" Miriam screamed. "You called me uncorrupted, but that’s wrong too. You don’t live beneath these red skies without changing yourself!"
"Their names! Who are the victims? Tell me, Operator!" Lucy said.
"Saria Alcott, Madeline Alcott, Brigid Chandlar, and more. All the War Maidens on the MOB, Novice. All the ones you know."
A burst of energy radiated from Lucy, shattering a portion of the tiles on the ground beneath her. It dimmed as quickly as it appeared. She sat down on a nearby chair, staring at the ground. Her lips mouthed foreign names. Her hands clutched at her trousers. Miriam leaned back, energy drained. She didn’t look happy, either.
"So?" Adam said, "You got a reason to tell us this?"
"Once was a fluke. Do it twice and there’s something."
"You want us to go purify another War Maiden." Adam said. "If I do, will you consider me the Chosen?"
"It’ll start sounding slightly less ridiculous than before," Miriam said.
Damn Miriam, you have no idea how much I want to agree with you. "Sure." Adam said. "We were planning on doing that anyway. It’s the mission she gave me, yeah? Unlike last time, I’ve got a whole War Maiden with me."
He patted Lucy on the shoulder for good measure. Miriam snorted.
"A bunch of other communication beacons got dumped across this world during the spatial collapse. The satellite is picking up the signals, but their beacons themselves are riddled with issues, preventing me from tuning in with them. You’ll have to manually find them and turn them back online. After that, we can start tracking the targets. One is located relatively near the base. Go and find it."
"If you’re going to help, you better not bitch the whole way," Adam said.
"Sorry, I can’t promise that," Miriam said. She sighed. "But I will help, if only because I've got nothing else to do."
It was good enough a reason as any. Adam glanced out the window, towards the walls, where the treetops of the surrounding forests were visible. It was finally time to leave the MOB.