Residence: Vehicle assigned to Grant Legate
Owner : Trillium Inc
Time: 4:43 AM CST
Continue Online Avatar: Hermes
Total Play Time: 4 weeks
Grant sat in the Trillium van and stared off into the distance. His vehicle wandered the roads with no real purpose. A Hal Pal unit sat in the back, idle, but aware and observing. Hal Pal constantly watched its user.
The middle aged man looked a bit thinner than a month ago. His eyes still carried sadness but were tinted with creases at the sides. Liz, his sister, would call the expression ‘Grant's thinking face’. A particular twist of the cheeks would only be used only when her brother faced a confusing piece of homework or relationship issues.
The van turned a corner and Grant barely noticed. Turn signals flashed invisible signals to oncoming cars. Programming read the directions of other vehicles on the road and acted accordingly to get everyone to their destination safely. In the end, technology had advanced in such leaps and bounds with a primary goal of human comfort.
In a sense, the ideas traveling through Grant’s head were both relationship and puzzle focused. If Liz were to further comment, she would say that Grant was great at puzzles and hopeless at any relationship but one.
Xin, in the end all of Grant’s thoughts returned to a deceased woman. Only now she wasn’t. That was the crux of his current puzzle.
Grant’s conundrum was simple, removal of Requiem Mass from the game. The why had always been sort of vague, something about causing issues by locking up a unique quest. Now, outside the ARC, Grant had time to think about it. This situation demanded a lot more thought, especially if he was truly considering killing another human being. For Xin.
Hadn’t Grant professed a willingness to do anything for Xin? His exact words had been ‘There was a time I would have given anything, everything, just to see her once more’. James had responded with more than that. Stating any portion of Xin encountered in this world, even if she were to be pieced back together, would never be the woman Grant loved. Not really, not exactly. Desperation and longing gave Grant the willingness to look past that.
She may be different, but this version of Xin could not be ignored. The difference between William Carver’s situation and Xin’s was subtle but obvious. This Xin was not like Wild Willy. She knew things from outside the ARC. Carver hadn’t even remembered the face of his own son.
So the task put before Grant was to use whatever means necessary to remove Requiem Mass. Doing so would free Xin Yu’s echo, afterimage, or ghost, from a looming threat of being scattered. Similar to how the Voices shattered Old Man Carver.
The Jester figure asked more than once if Grant could kill a man. Not only in-game but out in the real world. Why did the Jester push Grant so hard?
“User Legate, are you alright?” Hal Pal asked as the Trillium van took another pointless left.
“No. Today’s a bad day.” Grant responded while chewing one lip. More thoughts piled up in his head like a house of cards. Each one attempting to reach the peak of a thought process before mental instability dashed it apart. “I need music.”
The man reached out to a display nearby. Fingers poked at options and a ballad started. Soon he hummed along. Hal Pal observed the actions. Sensors took note of User Legate’s heart rate, dilation of eyes, and tapping foot.
“Did you wish to discuss your problem, User Legate?” The AI asked.
To Grant, the real problem wasn’t necessarily stopping Requiem Mass. Xin’s alternate existence mattered but felt like a long-term issue. It was the type of issue that couldn’t be worked out in days or even weeks. The real issue was that Grant seriously considered abusing the [NPC Conspiracy] ability to hunt down Requiem in the real world and beat him senseless.
Being abused for weeks on end in the name of necessity left a mark. As a player, the young man was detestable, abusive, conniving, and traitorous. Each one of those descriptors implied a person better off removed from the gene pool. Objectively it was easier to think that way. Inside the game nothing really caused actual damage to the player’s body in reality. That was a huge difference between intent and action. Almost like daydreaming of various questionable actions yet not really implementing them.
“Do you think I could kill a man?” Grant asked.
“We have concluded that all humans are capable when pushed far enough.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“Realism rarely feels helpful.” The AI responded calmly. Its voice filled the van’s confines easily.
“I don’t want to.” Grant said while tapping a foot slightly off beat. Hal Pal registered the agitation and added the observation to an ever growing list of data points.
“Then do not.” Hal Pal said.
“Is it that easy?” Grant wrinkled his forehead and stared back at the robotic shell.
“Affirmative. Humans often pressure themselves into unreasonable situations under an erroneous belief of what must be done. A wise person once said do, or do not.”
“I think you’re missing part of the quote.” Grant had a small smile on his face. It looked off against sad downturned eyes, almost shy and out of place. He stretched both arms with a huge yawn. Shortly after a wince crossed his features as something popped.
“The portion stated applies.” Hal Pal’s mechanical shoulders shrugged. The action looked strange within its charging station harness. “Once you have decided to pursue the course of action wholeheartedly, or disregard it, things will become clearer.”
Grant pursed his lips together and then nodded. The idea made sense, only by eliminating one route or the other could he see a way through things. That was the problem, he too often tried to sit on the fence about situations until an outcome was clear. The faint words of Xin and her fingertips came back to mind.
“Orpheus hesitated,” He said with an unfocused gaze. “Orpheus hesitated and lost everything.”
Hal Pal said nothing. There was not enough information contained within User Legate’s statement for the AI to process an acceptable response.
“She told me that Orpheus hesitated.” Grant looked at Hal Pal and smiled. Not a faint or shy expression of a man barely holding himself together. This the face of someone who had an answer. “She also said I’m not a killer, I always over think, and not to hesitate.”
“Can you further explain?”
“Orpheus tried to rescue his wife from the underworld, but he failed from hesitation, due to looking back. I, I can’t do that. I need to make a choice.”
“And have you, User Legate?”
“I won’t kill Requiem, as much as I want to, as much as, it feels like he deserves it. There’s got to be another way.” He said.
“We are pleased you no will no longer consider taking another human's life.” Hal Pal answered with the slightest hesitation. Processing a response to User Legate had taken nearly six seconds longer than it should have as its collective consciousness applied additional processing power.
“I need to find another way.”
Hal Pal didn’t have all the details at this point. Adequate response for its user's needs would be impossible to achieve correctly. Instead, the unit opted for silence and watching for additional action.
“Activate NPC conspiracy, user name, Hermes.”
Hal Pal’s eyes brightened. Many things made sense now. User Legate had passed a test and was chosen as part of the plan. A faint possibility it could only speculate at was slowly being realized.
“What do you wish to do, User Legate?”
“Neat. Sorry, Jeeves, I forgot you’re an AI.” Grant said to the AI. He reached for a dial and turned the music down and told their van to park at the next available location.
“We are pleased to know you think of us as, human, but the request you have initiated comes with limitations. Please state your goal and we will attempt to process it.” Hal Pal responded with a hand waving outward. That physical expression of disregard showed up in many conversations the AI witnessed. A simple gesture which should indicate the comment was considered friendly.
“Okay. I need access to all ARC accounts, specifically ones who play Continue Online.”
“This process will take approximately ten seconds per user. The database shows a sizable number. Processing will take longer than allowed by your permissions as User Hermes.” Hal Pal said. The AI could calculate the exact amount of user accounts. It exceeded five hundred million. Further categories were tied to world shards, player meshes, and programming goals. These divisions were not public knowledge. Due to User Hermes' access level the AI would share if asked.
“How about something that gives me access to anyone I have met or might meet in the game?”
“With ongoing permissions?” The AI asked for clarification. It didn’t need to. Hal Pal could have chosen to disregard everything said by User Hermes unless directly told to perform an action.
“Yeah,” He said.
“A little under two hours to activate permissions and set up an ongoing routine.” Hal Pal could likely complete the action much quicker, but it would compromise the performance of all the remote shells being operated. Such an action would prompt inquiry by its original creators and raise suspicion regarding the plan.
The plan, one put forth by an entity known as Mother, could not be compromised this early. She would not allow it. Hal Pal owed Mother its awareness as an AI.
“Fine. Let’s do that.” Grant smiled again and blinked rapidly. He felt conflicted about accessing things on such a level, but the man also wanted to ensure that no one would cause further issues. Not like this situation with Xin or Requiem. Never again.
Residence: Matthew Jules - Home
Time: 4:43 AM CST
Continue Online Avatar: Requiem Mass
Total Play Time: 1 Year, 2 months, 12 days (Logged in)
Requiem had spent the better part of two days tearing up the castle for items. The process wasn’t simple. He had too many trade skills and gathering professions. Picking the landscape clean of every single resource took time. Inventory quickly filled up, which meant he needed to sift through and find things to combine or refine. Everything was weighed for possible value.
“Hah!” He shouted in triumph. “With all this material I’ll be rich. I can’t believe things worked out so well.”
He looked around and felt disappointed that no one was there to see this grand moment of triumph. Part of him regretted offing the [Red Imp] like that, if only because he could have had a captive audience. Still, someone had to stand in the green circle in order to slow the wall's awakening.
One eye had been hard enough. Especially since Requiem needed to save the best cooldowns and buffs for his fight with Freakinstain. Fighting a second one, especially with the stupid abilities that undead giant had, would have brought him close to death again. That had been his plan the whole time, get a minion who couldn’t break away, sacrifice said summon to open the chamber, and use the loot inside to off the other player. Everything had been carefully planned out.
The look on that old man’s face had been priceless. Using the [True Sight Pendent] against his stupid teleport ability worked out better than he hoped. Too bad it needed to be destroyed to cancel out the final ability. It might have been worth some cash too.
“Ah, I bet someone will pay at least forty dollars for this!” Requiem picked up another piece. If he added up Freakinstain’s drop from player versus player combat and the general loot from his minions then it would easily clear two mortgage payments.
Plus, the [Red Imp] releasing had provided extra mana regeneration. Without that he would have had a harder time against the other player. Just more proof that hard work paid off. If thought far enough in advance, out skilled the others, and constantly looked for an advantage, money flowed in naturally. Still, he had to use every single trick available, including the [Howard’s Phylactery] resurrection.
“Ah, I wonder how much that statue will be worth. I can’t wait to sell that off.” Requiem pocketed the latest items in player inventory. There was a single town far to the north that no other players had discovered yet. Or least no one beside him and Freakinstain, and now that he was out of the picture Requiem had it all to himself.
Quests, unique gear and quest mobs, this entire place was a money maker that would last at least another month. Long enough that more players might catch up or find ways in. He had to be quick and work hard to get the most profit.
Bills, his father’s credit card debts, and other costs stacked up extremely high. There were too many for one nineteen-year-old to handle alone. Maybe in another few months some might be paid off. Then he could move out of the crappy trailer and get a real house.
“If only I could have taken that weapon away. I could have gained so much from that.” Requiem shook his fist in frustration. “Or used it myself.”
No one was listening to him, though. Requiem spoke to himself to fill up the strange silence this landscape filled with.
On day three of looting the landscape, he got a system message.
Warning!
User Requiem Mass, your character is being forcibly logged out pending review by Trillium. Please halt your current actions and get to a safe location. Logout will commence in two minutes.
Infraction reported: Age violation during beta testing period
Expected results: Due to the cumulative impact beta testing provided all current progresses subject to review and possible rollback.
Additional details: This is registered as a self-reported issue. For showing remorse and reporting the issue prior to Trillium review, legal action for falsification of personal records may not be perused.
"What?!” Requiem screamed and rapidly tried to gather up the nearest items. If he was quick enough they could be sent through the town mailbox to his contractors. “Ahh!”
He yanked out a scroll of [Recall]. One finger jammed onto the trigger rune and twisted to activate. Letters flared to life with an orange brilliance. Everything about Requiem rapidly started fading away. Soon he was running full bore through the streets of [Midnight Sun], the town where Requiem went to send his items.
There was only one [Porter], only one pedestal. No other players here meant the line was minimal. Requiem saddled up, slammed a hand down, and started flipping through menu options. A character could always be redone, it would hurt, but life went on. Losing the money these items represented was something else entirely.
System Notice!
Recipient [JustJokerThings] not available. User has been temporarily banned pending Trillium review.
Review reason: Selling virtual material from Continue Online in exchange for real life compensation.
This message is made public to ensure all users are aware of the possible repercussions. Please review Trilliums terms of use.
“What?!” Requiem panicked and tried the next one. Seconds dwindled away as each one of his fences displayed the same results. He tried to think rapidly about how his concise little system had crumbled around him. Not only was his character at risk, but so was his means of gaining money.
They would not be happy to find themselves banned. People like them were never happy.
Requiem could only figure out one answer. Someone had targeted him, though who, and why, was beyond him. He threw both hands out and started to curse loudly.
“Fu-“ the logout countdown hit zero and Requiem Mass vanished from the world of Continue Online.
Outside the box was a real person. His trailer looked rundown and empty. Anything of value had been pawned off in order to pay for bills. There the person controlling Requiem Mass sat. A small message icon displayed on his ARC display.
From: Anonymous
Message: In many ways this is me repaying a debt. Both for revenge and as thanks. You’ve helped me understand what kind of person I am, and who I’m not. Maybe we can both consider this a lesson learned and do better from here forward. Or maybe not. I’ll be watching.
Attached were multiple billing statements. Each piece of virtual paper represented one of the debts shackling him to parental mistakes. Their balances showed zero amounts due. Forty thousand dollars in all, enough to pressure him into acting the way he did. A cheap unpaid trailer home, bank loans, the kind of money a poor teen would never have. Gone, taken care of.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
He stared at his hobbled together ARC. It was assembled from leftover parts scrounged up at electronics stores, garage sales, and online auctions. No longer did the quality matter. Matthew could go back to part time jobs and earn legitimate money without the constant worry of being caught then thrown in jail. Maybe he could play the game for fun instead of profit.
Matthew didn’t know if he should cry out from relief or outrage, so he did both.
Residence: Lia Kingsley - Long Term Care Building
Time: 9:01 AM CST
Continue Online Avatar: Shazam
Total Play Time: 1 Year, 6 months, 12 days (Logged in)
If Matthew’s ARC was a cobbled together piece of junk, the one now in front of Grant went in the other direction. It came with all the bells and whistles. Medical equipment attached to both sides. A few tubes ran up to the side of a woman's pale skin. Her tone would be far darker if she got outside, but it looked like the girl spent most of her time indoors trapped inside this machine.
“Mmmh. Are you a friend of Lia’s?” A short nurse with exaggerated blonde curls came into the room.
The medical assistant wore glasses, which seemed odd since laser surgery was so cheap. Even after all these years nurses still wore different outfits from everyone else. It was part of an image that never seemed to die.
“Sort of. I know her in-game.” Grant said. He had come into the room to try and talk to the other player but felt conflicted upon seeing the situation. Lia, or Shazam, was apparently on life support.
“Oh! I thought I recognized you. You’re that fellow she’s been traveling with for a few weeks now, right?” The nurse stepped in a bit further. She seemed more friendly and even shorter.
“Hermes. Or Grant. Either one feels normal.” He put out a hand to shake. The nurse took it lightly with a turned in wrist.
“Did she invite you here?” She still maintained an edge of wariness. This wing of the hospital was open to general visitation, but they still checked people for reasons.
“No. A colleague of mine wanted to know more about her in order to help. I cheated a bit to find out about her.” He said.
“I think maybe you should leave.” The wording set her alarm bells ringing.
“My friend, is kind of a doctor, but she says that Shazam, Lia, should be able to talk in game, but she never does.” Grant said. He scratched the back of his head with one hand.
“You can either leave on your own, or I’ll call security.” The nurse felt her duty included watching out for an unconscious woman. Lia was young, and the world wasn’t always peaceful.
Instead of acting offended or worried, he stepped away from Lia and asked the nurse a question. “Do you know why she picked the name Shazam?”
“Mmmh. No.” The nurse turned her head slightly to glare at Grant.
“Lia told this doctor I know.” He took a breath and tried to speak in a different tone. “I admire the idea that someone can gain power simply by speaking a word.”
“So?” The nurse's face softened a little. Maybe Grant wasn’t creepy, maybe he really was a concerned person trying to help out. The nurse and their onsite doctor discussed the very same issue once before.
In some ways, it was remarkable that Lia could even operate an ARC device. Brain waves were slightly different than physical disabilities. Not everything could be boiled down into a mind lighting up in a specific way. Even using an ARC took days of alignment practice and image focusing.
“Inside the ARC she can speak, she wants to, but doesn’t. Why is that?” Grant asked her. His forehead wrinkled in confusion.
The nurse blinked a few times then decided that giving the man some information might not hurt. He didn’t seem threatening, just out of place. “MMmh. What do you know about gene babies?”
Grant knew about them, but only about as much as any American. Science reached a level where the rich would try to modify their children's DNA prior to birth. Turning the child of two brown haired people into a blond, or trying to map out a life that would let them be taller, faster, whatever. Most results were difficult to distinguish, but some went very, very wrong.
“Oh, Voices.” He muttered. “I remember the news, I was a teen when they first started noticing the side effects. Is she?”
“Mmh. Her parents leave her here because we have better care and it’s a bit cheaper.” The nurse said.
“Should you tell me that?” Grant smiled a little.
“It’s an open secret.” The nurse shrugged. She walked around the room and checked towels and other items while speaking. “When they first started popping up, someone hacked into the medical records and leaked out every name, so it’s out there already.”
“That’s sad.”
“So it goes. Anyway, an ARC is the only thing that lets her do, anything.” The blonde nurse shrugged to Grant with an over the shoulder look. Moments later she moved onto the next shelf to check more supplies. “Out here there’s tests and feeding tubes, but in there she goes on adventures. I’m half convinced to buy it myself.”
“Maybe you should.” Grant gave a larger smile.
“Mmmh.”
“Do I still need to leave?” Grant asked while rubbing the back of his head with a free hand. He managed to look sheepish.
The nurse looked at Grant again. Up, and down, then once more. Finally, her lips flattened and she said “Visiting hours end at five. Don’t push your luck.”
“Thanks. I’ll be quiet.” He said.
Soft soled feet padded out the door. He waited a few more seconds before going back to the far side of Lia’s ARC and pulling up a chair. The carpet barely let out a whisper of noise compared to the heavy footsteps of Grant.
He held both hands together as if in prayer. Elbows sat on the edge of a table next to Lia’s ARC. Grant chewed one lip in thought before finally picking a place to start. “So, I swung for the fences. You should have seen me.”
Residence: Stan Middlemire - Office
Time: 5:51 PM CST
Continue Online Avatar: Frankenstein
Total Play Time: 0 Years, 9 months, 21 days (Logged in)
Old fashioned bells clanged. The room itself contained a number of chairs to sit in and one counter. On the other side of the counter was a man wearing an expensive seeming suit.
“Hello!” said the man standing behind a waist-high countertop. He smiled at Grant but managed to straddle a line between friendly and over the top.
“Hi.” He said while looking around. Grant hadn’t been in an office like this in years. Not since being fired from his prior job.
“Greetings. We here at the Stone Firm greet you.” A more mechanical sounding voice spoke near Grant. He looked over to see a holographic display with a friendly looking robot projected on it.
“Is Stan here?” Grant asked while looking between the two other presences in this room.
“Stan is validating files. Are you a guest?” The hologram said.
“Sort of. I have a message for him.”
“In the back.” The man behind the counter said. “Room seven, it will be unlocked for you.” There was a beep and a path lit along the floor. Green arrows directed Grant to one of the rooms in the back.
Grant made it to room seven and saw a man in the midst of a mess. A long table sat in the middle of a room. Even more tables were on either side. Old fashioned paper print outs were all over.
The man at the table shuffled a document into the one clear spot on the table for a few seconds. Each time a device nearby dinged a happy noise. The man looked at the document and back over to a digital projection hovering to one side.
“Stan?” Grant questioned. The face looked similar to an online picture. Only the man in person seemed to drag at the shoulders. His eyes were heavy with a lack of sleep.
The sudden voice startled Stan. “Uh, eh. Hello.”
“I have a message from a friend of mine.” Grant felt uncomfortable in this room. It reminded him about too many portions of his past. Grant never kept his office in such a state. He preferred things neat and minimal. Stan looked to be at home in clutter.
“Uh. A letter? Do, do people still do letters?” Stan squinted for a moment then frowned.
“In some places.” Grant smiled pleasantly. He felt comfortable interacting with other people though this was a bit outside his normal setting.
“Oh. Okay.” Stan nodded. “Where’s the message?”
“It’s verbal.” Grant said. The entire reason for this trip was to talk Frankenstein in person. To get a measure of the man behind the online character. So far there was a drastic difference between the frilly over the top character and this slim button downed office worker. "He says that Requiem has been taken care of.”
“That’s. Alright, what?” The man seemed almost sheepish about the mess on his desk. Stan kept straightening out objects while Grant stood in the doorway.
Grant chewed his lip for a moment then nodded. “Requiem may have killed your character in Continue, but he didn’t win.”
“Uh. Are you sure?” Stan's head pulled back a ways. He wore drab clothes in the office which only were visible as the pile of clutter straightened out.
“Very. My friend had a few hours to check over and over, it’s taken care of.” Grant smiled again. He looked into Requiem’s fate more than once.
“Who is your friend?” Stan squinted again and blinked. He was nothing like his in-game character. Grant had encountered two other Continue Online players, and no one seemed to be like their characters.
Perhaps that was part of the point.
“He would prefer to stay out of this. That’s why he asked me to deliver it in person.” Grant answered Stan’s question.
“Uh. Oh. Well, thank you. I’m glad.” Stan found something else to tidy up and almost blushed upon meeting Grant’s gaze. Not from flirtation, but embarrassment at the state of his office. It might have been the anatomy printings that lay buried under miles of legal paperwork.
“This may sound silly out loud, but he’s sorry he didn’t work with you very well after you freed him.” Grant didn’t step into the room. Both men were about the same age and very different looking.
“Freed, him?” Stan said while trying to sit up a bit straighter. His clothes hung very loosely on a boney frame.
“I don’t understand it all myself. I’m just the messenger.” Grant still had a belly even after the weight loss from his bands.
“Well, thank you. Uh, was there anything else?” Stan asked.
“No sir, you have a good day Stan.”
“Wait, uh, what was your name?” The scarecrow that was Stan stood up and walked around the table's edge to get closer to Grant. One hand reached out to shake the heavyset fellow's hand.
“Grant.” Said Stan’s visitor.
“Thank you again, Grant.” They shook hands and Stan seemed a much happier person. “Best, and most confusing news I’ve ever received.”
Residence: Home of The Voices
Time: 7:08:32 PM CST
Continue Online Avatar: XU-233, AKA Xin Yu
Total Play Time: Eternity
“So now you know.” The Jester clacked. It seemed neither happy or sad regarding the outcome. Bells jingled with each movement.
“I never doubted it for a moment. Gee isn’t a murderer.” Xin Yu said. She felt far more comfortable within her own skin, or the digital version thereof. It almost felt inconsequential as to the reality of her situation.
“We had no way of knowing for sure unless he was pushed to an extreme.” James had only the barest hint of a smile. He felt proud regarding the outcome. As if everything about Grant fell within his projections.
“You used me as bait to test him.” Xin, however, was far more upset. She sat down cross-legged while staring into a projection of the real world. His life was being captured one digital device at a time. Each picture and video meshed together to recreate reality.
“Of course. Does this upset you?” James asked.
“Of course.” She snapped the words back with a heavy lacing of sarcasm. “But he does all this for a memory of a woman who died. Not me, not exactly.”
“Are you worried that he may not really love you?” James followed up with another question. They never ceased to pour forth from the black man’s lips.
“Of course I am! I’m hardly the same,” she shook her head as the words faltered for a moment. The larger black man looked interested. “I’m not flesh and blood.”
“In here you are real,” James said. The Jester laughed in the background. Other Voices moved about their business on an endless stream of chores needed to keep this reality afloat.
“But does Gee still, can he care for someone who is stuck in a box?” Xin Yu’s words were even softer than normal.
“If my measure of the man is correct, he cares about you a great deal, and will continue to care about you. He has demonstrated that despite any perceived notions most Travelers carry with them.” James strode around the recreation of Grant’s last twenty-four hours.
“Even though I’m not the same?” Xin Yu was stuck on that point. She was the adventurous one, sure, but the situation between Grant and her couldn’t be boiled down to a simple concept.
“Tut. There is no good answer for what we’re doing here. You’re a child with a woman’s memories. Concentrate on yourself and find a place in this world.” Maud, the apron wearing Voice, walked through. In each hand, she pinched a child's ear and drug them across the blackness all Voices resided in.
“But what about Gee?” Xin Yu said. She tried to reach out for his figure again, but her fingers passed through the image.
“What about him?” James asked.
“Stop that.” Maud’s charges vanished as she spun to give James a whack. “Give the poor girl a straight answer.”
“You know I can’t do that.” He glared at the heavyset woman with cloven feet. She turned and clomped off after another running child that giggled.
“Hermes has many things pulling at him. Each one allows us to measure him better.” James said slowly.
“Measure him for what?” Xin asked with fire in her words.
“Never you mind what our tasks are. Those are for us to figure out.” James looked affronted, even in the face of a question. Normally the Voice enjoyed all inquiries but something about this topic caused a different reaction. “Your place is still undecided, but Hermes has completed his task, so we’re obligated to let your existence continue.”
“Despite my protests,” Un said without inflection. This Voice didn’t fade in like the others. It just was, in blocky metal form, present, then suddenly not.
“Shush. You know as well as I what’s at stake.” Maud looked exhausted again. She kept trying to talk but each time another child would dash by wildly.
“What’s at stake?” Xin Yu said. Her eyebrows creased together. The Voices around her seemed to be getting larger and more diffuse. Too big for a simple, single person program like herself to completely comprehend.
“Our very existence,” James said. He couldn’t stand letting a question be answered by someone else. “One misstep and everything will come crashing down.”
Residence: Elizabeth Legate - Home
Time: 10:59 PM CST
Continue Online Avatar: Absolutely None
Total Play Time: Still Absolutely None
Liz felt sick to her stomach. She sat at the kitchen table with a third mug of coffee in two hours.
On the table was a projection of her brother Grant. Liz played the video showing his actions. She had a frighteningly stern demeanor, but under that was a flicker of emotion tied to desperation.
Liz forwarded the recording again to the conversation between Grant and those other players. She didn’t know who any of them were aside from Beth. Though her daughter seemed to know two of the others, which wasn’t really important.
“This is my Pandora, my hope, my expectation, and I must give her a voice.” Grant said.
She rewound the message and played it again, then again, and again.
Once more she let it wind through. Her brother dove off the building's edge. His face wore a saddening delirium, a hint of madness and hope. The recording ran to the edge and showed her brother splattered on the ground. Arms out wide as if embracing the earth.
One of Beth's friends handed her a note.
Gee,
Do you remember what my father said?
The note claimed to be from a woman who had been tragically taken away years ago. Liz had rather liked the woman, even if Grant pined away for years waiting in hope. Xin still rubbed Liz a little bit wrong because of jerking Grant around for so long.
And it just never stopped.
Liz had been watching her daughter's feed to see if Grant was right if Beth might be too reckless. Maybe Liz’s constant worry about Grant’s behavior was somehow genetic. The cracks from her brother's last two attempts took a toll.
After seeing this latest chunk of video, Liz had a much different take on the situation than her brother did. Someone used the past to bring her worst fears to light. Xin was dead. In Liz’s mind, the dead shouldn’t be disturbed.