After excessive exploration the reason for a [Messenger’s Tube] made sense. It wasn’t about power so much as balance. Voices appearing directly upon [Arcadia]’s surface would cause issues so they devised an intermediary, plus these globes up here were pretty damned vague.
There were programs waiting out there which would try to crush my form upon the game’s surface. This one was almost a giant robotic suit which had been occupied by a Voice which brought everyone in line. The side of it even had ‘Justice’ written in flowing scrawl.
I stared for a long time. The sight of that suit worried me because it might interfere with my plans. There were other tasks to finish but most were accomplished by what amounted to autopilot.
“That’s very scary,” Nia said. She stood behind me trying to be very thin and succeeding. “Very, very scary.”
“It is terrifying.” The suit of armor looked one breath away from coming to life. “Those machines scurrying around can use this if we’re not careful. The notes say that Voices caught interfering in anything outside their fiction will be forcibly removed from Arcadia, which will probably hurt.”
This exact problem is why so many of the Voices were only passive observers when they came down. Michelangelo had been in his church but apparently could only offer advice. The Jester once escaped his confines to circle around Requiem, but could kill one person a month of its choosing. We were all theoretically allowed to talk or perform functions within our confines, but ultimately world impacting choices had to be made by Travelers.
Despite the final version of my [NPC Conspiracy] trait, and having an Avatar, I was no longer a Traveler by any stretch. The idea of going back to the old version of me, the limited one that had to question so many different topics, felt scary. Up here I was capable and had most answers.
“Are you very, very sure?” Nia asked.
“Very,” I responded. Part of me wanted to summon my weapons of [Morrigu’s Gift] and [Morrigu’s Echo] then dismantle the creation. Destroying the actual vehicle of Balance’s power felt wrong. She had used this body to pull the Jester off of me once, long ago.
“Are you sure you can’t wave a very powerful wand, or cast a very powerful spell to make everything right?”
“Not by myself,” I said then looked over. The elf girl was fidgeting, her feet crossed then uncrossed. “Maybe it’s better for you to stay up here.”
“I want to go home,” she said. “But most of my friends are gone, and those below aren’t right in the head. Their spirits are very withered. Like the human you found.”
“It’s okay to stay here too. When my sister opens the doorway, I’ll go, and when it’s time I’ll summon the rest of you. You’re part of this, and you’re allowed to help.”
Nia Eve and Phil weren’t the only pieces of Locals that were lost in that abyss. Reconstructing them had taken days, and even then they were a bit broken. They were comparable to people with memory loss and brain damage.
Tracking down missing people was how I filled my time while Liz started her four weeks of character creation. Beth helped a lot, and other players pitched in once they got wind. Even now there was a party of familiar faces below waiting for the [Lithium] to be completed.
“Oh, she’s starting,” Nia said. She knelt on all fours and peered out over a cliff's edge. The missing ground represented the gulf between this plane and the one below. We peered downward into the fog which contained an image of multiple players. Liz’s face stood out the clearest.
“Okay.”
My sister stood just outside a beginner town. Not [Haven Valley], but the one Beth began her journey at years ago. Liz knelt up on top of the cliff where rivers joined before falling down to the starting location. Beth stood by, looking older than I remembered. She kept her mother guarded against weaker monsters while Liz scrawled out badly written [Lithium].
Her hands shook. Beth whispered words that were inaudible even with my abilities. Liz looked down while frowning. The others were talking. A few people started digging through their bags for various items then handed them over. I only understood some of the details, but apparently, a player summoning a Voice was far more complex than Dusk or a [Red Imp]. Liz set items in place then waved them off.
“Subject Nemesis’s heart rate has increased substantially,” a mechanical voice said. “Adjusting input-output response levels accordingly. New safety regulations are being accounted for.” The readings went on, but the plump blonde Voice who had read them before was missing.
Liz chose the name of Nemesis, a title with as much meaning as Hermes or Hecate but also strangely fitting for my twin. She spent those first four weeks studying books and firing arrows. I suspected the virtual world gradually drew her in, despite the soullessness.
Nemesis lifted a small dagger to a forearm then brought the blade across. She winced and guilt shot through me. Liz had to be the one to summon me. Even Continue Online knew we were twins, and that meant a lot to the program left behind by Mother.
“Grant?” my sister whispered over the circle. “Can you hear me?”
“I can,” I said toward the foggy cloud. What we saw were two different sides of the same situation. It felt like the [Red Imp] all over again. I felt tempted to demand cupcakes, but Dusk was gone.
“Is this enough?” she asked.
The fog looked completely different to me. Not in anything outright visible, but before it felt solid. Now it looked possible to fall through it toward the world below.
“It should work.” There were notes implying that my old avatar could walk the world below, not me as a Voice, but Hermes the character. “I’ll try to come through. Be careful and move back a little bit, I don’t know exactly what will happen.”
“Everyone backup,” Liz dipped in volume as the gaggle of Travelers took steps backward. Their forms faded into the mist and became dots which represented players we couldn’t see directly from here.
“Be very careful, Gift the Gate,” Nia said. She glanced at the huge mechanical creature that hung behind us. Once I left it would start to fade.
“Don’t break anything while I’m gone.” I smiled then stepped out over the edge.
Falling wasn’t exactly falling. The world tilted but at the same time, it was like walking through a thick layer of water that beat down upon me. My mind felt dulled. Part of me stripped away and the world became raw, fresh, and terribly limited. The world tightened into place around me with rules and weights.
No sensation described the change perfectly. The closest thing that came to mind was like peeling off unrestrained clothes such as pajamas or comfortable nightwear, and putting on a business suit. Items were equipped and clothing transformed to the toga. Tingles shot up and down my arm as further changes were made. Instead of black for mourning, it now looked a faded yellow, as if dyed by sunflowers.
My mouth hung open. Humming filled my ears and both knees hurt. I gasped for air while clenching a hand to my chest.
“Voices,” I muttered trying to right myself.
Grass sat frozen and bowed away from me. Muscles in my back clenched tightly together and refused to let go. One hand trembled as it searched for anything tangible. The problem was, everything down here felt so much more real than Hal Pal or being a Voice.
“Uncle Grant?” someone said. “Are you alright?”
The question registered but only violent head shaking came out. My leg jerked and everything tumbled to one side. I ended up on my back, vibrating and trying to line up with the most suppressed version of myself since dying.
“He’s twitching like a bug,” another woman said in disgust.
“Be nice,” the responding person spoke in a lighter tone. There were figures further away but they looked so, mundane. One held a giant shield that had to be bigger than she was. The other stood tall and lanky in a blue robe.
Slowly it all came together. Everything settled and my limbs almost responded correctly to thought. People around me, presented only in a visual spectrum, started to make sense. One hand shook as back and forth as if disgusting material resided upon me, but only the feeling of having real skin came back.
“This is weird,” I said.
“What’s wrong?” Liz asked me. Her clothing hadn’t changed from the basic starter material despite Beth’s attempts at providing better gear. Only browns and grays lined her colors, compared to a crimson swath, blue robe, and white gold radiance.
“Nothing, I’ve just been, in a different realm. I think it’s messing me up readjusting to, normal.”
“Sure,” Elane said. She lifted her shield in a shrug then let it slam back to the ground. It looked heavier than before.
TinkerHell stood next to her friend but looked sadder than I remembered. My mind reached out for information but received no automated response. Whatever bothered her would be a question for another day.
“Sorry, it just takes time to get used to this again.”
Questions poured forth asking about what had happened, where I had gone, and what special zone kept me busy for nearly a year of game time. Most of them had no clue where I had actually gone, due in part to the Voice’s manipulation ahead of time. Apparently only a few truly knew of my real death, family, Trillium higher ups, and my lawyers.
My sister, niece, and I talked ahead of time about how to present our situation. Some people knew about Shazam, but they weren’t aware that I had died in those final moments. One person coming back was unlikely enough, let alone three. Despite suspension and time, no one talked about it online, or any location that could be tracked as a Voice.
Between the three of us, we decided to lie, not because the idea of convincing them I had died and was now walking around sounded, but because it was kinder than suggesting they might have perished my place. People, anyone who watched me on the video stream, could put it together. Despite that, a majority of people on the internet believed my character had simply entered a secret event. They weren’t completely inaccurate.
“Awesome! You’re alive!” Awesome Jr. shouted. He had filled in during the last year. His neck was thicker than I remembered. The ugly green cloak had been replaced by a slightly nicer, but still green garment.
Beth and Liz were looking at each other without saying much. My sister’s eyes were wet with moisture. The subject of my passing had clearly left scars on them.
“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “My character was just stuck.”
“Your stats are all weird,” Shadow muttered using a rough tone. HotPants nodded while twisting her hands around a new staff.
“What’s that Voice title. Is that why we had to summon you?” SweetPea asked. “Aren’t they like, gods in this game?”
Both hands went up and I tried to shrug it off. “I guess that’s what happens when you hold off a world altering event. I’m not really all powerful, though.”
The quartet exchanged glances. Messages were typed that barely registered. Looking at chat windows was no longer an automatic action to me. By the time I caught up with the rolling wall of text a note from my niece popped up saying, ‘Just move on’.
I tried to gather my thoughts. Reconstructing people had been hard enough. Talking to Liz about how we needed to build a tower in [Haven Valley] took even more out of me. Beth understood at least the purpose. She had spent days rambling about programming requirements and technology needs. The girl was smart, smarter than we had ever hoped to be.
That was how I found out she switched majors from the study of energy to programming and intelligence replication. Apparently, Nona recommended her for a course while I was dancing away with another woman. Time marched on for everyone else but seemed to skip by rapidly for me.
I stood up slowly. Disorientation hit me and both legs threatened to buckle. My head tipped forward and everything else followed, slamming right into Liz. She tried to hold me up but started to slip. It took her, Beth, and Elane to push me back to standing.
Heavy eyelids threatened to roll. The air around here made me want to sneeze. I took a breath then risked more conversation. “So about the project, do you think you can help?”
“I don’t understand why you need our help,” Liz said. “Now that you’re back, are we needed?”
“He can’t do it alone, not this,” Beth responded to her mom. “We’ve, well it’s like what happened when everything fell apart. We’ve got to build something in the game for it to work right.”
“Why?”
“She’s talking about the Dopple-Krine Resonance effect,” Awesome Jr. started babbling out a long-winded theory. My sister looked absolutely lost. I would have been too if it wasn’t for being living proof.
Essentially it was the same way I saw the world, digital code had somehow been altered by Mother over the years to allow virtual actions to impact the flow of information. More people helping would be more ARC units sharing the processing power. Each one would form a link of sorts in a giant chain. We would use those to compile a program, almost growing it instead of hard code. Fifteen years ago, in high school, I would have told everyone that’s not how technology worked. Time had changed the rules.
“Where’s that cool girl? You know, the one that’s too good for you,” Elane focused on the important things.
“Xin’s not here, she went through the portal,” Liz spoke clearly to her friend.
“Well, that’s stupid,” the shorter Hispanic woman said. Her face wrinkled but she didn’t sound upset at all. They must have come to grips with my wife’s existence as a digital character. It also meant that Elane probably knew about my death but was keeping quiet.
“Getting back to her is why I started, playing again.” The words made me pause and look around. Xin had been the reason for a lot of choices in my life, and today, here and now, it hit me just how many were her fault.
Without her ghost, I would probably have never taken Continue Online seriously. Without her death, I would have been working hard toward earning money for a spot to Mars. If Xin hadn’t ever met me all those years ago, if I hadn’t fallen so obsessively in love, and if so many other moments hadn’t turned left the way they did.
Regardless, the desire to be with her was constant. It pulled, and before the action fully registered, I had already started walking off down the road. My legs barely resisted the urge to run. Windows popped up that displayed messages that didn’t matter.
“Where are you going!” my niece shouted after me.
“To Haven Valley! Where we need to build a tower!” My chest heaved. There were players in the way, people I absently recognized but pushed by anyway. “To get my wife!”
Water welled in both eyes and I took a breath to let the sensation die away. There wasn’t time to feel sad or pity, only action. Every minute mattered, and a delay now would only put off reuniting with the love of my lives.
I had to vacuum the house and do the dishes. The laundry needed to be put away and ingredients bought for dinner. My head shook abruptly as a routine from years ago went by. This wasn’t the past, but there were definitely tasks to accomplish so that Xin and I could reunite.
Beth’s starting town lay weeks away from [Haven Valley]. I needed to reach whatever remained of the town. Asking normal people to keep up with my mad charge across the face of [Arcadia] was silly.
The landscape of []b[Arcadia][/r] proper was too large. I walked for days, only stopping briefly to pick up paper airplanes that lay along the roadsides. Players on autopilot or actively played trailed behind me. Occasionally one would catch up to ask questions or offer shortcuts across the landscape, ones that were new to me.
They all had shortcuts, and my own knowledge was lacking. There was the moon, but I didn’t understand how to use that path. Instead, we crawled through a tree trunk that revealed a still lake in the mountains. After that SweetPea showed us a mountain peak nearby which we leapt off sideways, only to roll to our feet on a field of purple flowers hundreds of miles away. Our path zigged across the globe.
In the field of flowers, we found two small paper airplanes wet from mountain dew. Another dozen hung in a forest tree along our path, but all the other plants were void of white sheets. More airplanes were matted like ugly hats atop two [Coo-Coo Rill]s that tried to pelt Awesome Jr. with nuts. I gathered them all and held each one close.
“Do you know what those are?” Beth asked me one day. “Everyone keeps finding them, some think it’s tied to the event.”
“It is,” I said, putting the latest piece of folded paper into my treasure trove of them. Nona had gathered thousands.
Some papers were yellowed from age. Others were dirty. They formed a timeline that made me worry for Xin. For the first time in months, I started to really, seriously, worry and question what was happening. Was she hurting out there, sending out cries for help? Had [World Eater]s snuck into their refuge? How long had my wife been throwing them down here?
Down wasn’t the right word for our situation, but it was the only one which fit. I looked off toward the west and thought of the beam of light that she was dragged up. Somewhere near there was the keyhole. Xin sat on the other side of a doorway generating an endless stream of paper airplanes. At least I hoped she did. If this didn’t work then I would truly be lost.
“Faith,” I muttered to myself one day. “I need to have faith that this will work.” Holding myself aloft from the urgency proved harder and harder. I was so close.
“What’s wrong?” Liz asked catching up to us. She huffed heavily but tried to stay logged on. The sacrifice of playing inside a digital reality for so long wasn’t lost on me.
“These are from Xin.” I held out a dozen pieces of paper. “She’s trying to reach me, at least I believe so, I hope so.”
My lip shook. It was much easier to watch all this while being detached in the realm above. Shaking back and forth helped, playing music and recalling the steps for a waltz got me into a positive space. Not distant, but looking forward to reuniting with Xin. Emotional detachment was my life before Continue Online, not after. Even those like me, who were constructed from memories, couldn’t take the road not traveled.
“It’ll be okay, little brother,” Liz said quietly. “We’ll get your stupid tower built, and make things right. Right?”
I nodded then kept moving. Our path wound all around the globe before we finally arrived at [Haven Valley].
[Haven Valley] was a flatland. Tons of other parts to Continue Online were reverted, but this place looked desolate. As if the town didn’t exist back during release, and maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it didn’t exist until William Carver settled down somewhere to start his project.
The call had gone out to [Valhalla Knights] along with plenty of other guilds. Hundreds of people were waiting, ready to work on a project they knew nothing about, especially if it would solve this event to bring life to their game world. They wanted to help, and more arrived every hour.
One player stood to the side. His face dripped with sweat and both arms managed to stay straight out. Fingers curled tightly and knuckles were turning blue. In front of him was a small purple portal that Travelers were stepping out of.
I grabbed chalk and sticks then outlined where the tower’s base would go. Players, some who were foremen in real life, started organizing crews to work on different parts of the building. Foundation, support beams, materials, all of it mattered to them. I only cared about the size and location.
“We need to get up there, at least three hundred feet.” My hand pointed toward a spot up above. The small outline of a keyhole could be seen against white clouds. Carver’s quartet of [Legecy Wish] bearers could probably see it too.
“Twenty stories then, maybe. It’ll be difficult to do it with classical materials. Buildings just weren’t designed to go that high,” the man said while squinting. His nose wrinkled as he waved to other people.
“I,” ideas occurred to me which caused a pause, “I have a spell that should make the material sturdy afterward. It’s just a matter of laying down the foundation. I can’t help with that, my quest won’t let me.”
The choice to build this tower had to be theirs. Those were the rules laid down by Mother. Player, people from the real world, needed to make the gesture and Voices were only allowed to enforce the decisions made. We provided clues, hunts, breadcrumbs, and occasionally building sites.
“Why here?” the thin looking foreman asked. He wore a white helmet that was rounded on the top.
“It has to be here. Here is where the first beam was. Here is where the return platform needs to be,” I answered without looking over.
The man wandered off and left me staring upward. Players milled around in huge numbers. Orders were shouted back and forth. My mind sat a million miles away, staring at the keyhole that hopefully held all the answers. My [Altered Matrix] weighed heavily in the toga’s folds.
“Fifty thousand gold, and six epic items. That’s my final offer,” a new voice said. “For that much, I’ll work like no one else in this entire crew.”
I laughed without even needing to see who spoke. At some point, the sun had gone down and Requiem Mass had arrived at the party. The boy never missed a chance to obtain gold.
“Honestly, you’re getting a good deal,” the young man pressed. “I’m easily worth one hundred thousand and three legendaries.”
“How about a Rank Twenty Five demon companion,” I told the player.
There was a brief paused then Requiem said, “You have those just laying around? I deserve three, but will settle for two.”
There were Locals that had survived the purge in pieces. Their lives were half what they had been before. Wraith, the [Greater Demon] had been one of the lost data chunks recovered by Nona and put into storage. Entire swaths of his life were missing, to the point where he didn’t recognize me or anyone else. His mumbled about family but knew nothing beyond the search for someone.
My hand dug into the toga for a package of round spheres, similar to what Phil had turned into. I casually slid it over my fingers. The marble rolled around, then flashed a bright gold. A puff of sulfur smelling smoke curled outward, and as it faded a figure appeared.
“Wraith, this is Requiem,” I said to the new figure.
“You soul smells greedy,” Wraith said immediately, judging the teen and glaring. His voice no longer sounded as dark, but instead cracked with late puberty.
Requiem didn’t look convinced. His head turned to me. “That’s not Wraith. Wraith followed you and died to the World Eaters. I watched it from the shore. He died.”
It didn’t surprise me that the young man had been watching us from somewhere else. The Traveler certainly knew how to get around quickly and his black clothes probably made it easy to hide from regular monsters.
“I think you two can help each other, and my rule for binding you is very simple.” I turned to look at them. Wraith had lost a lot of size after my efforts to put him together. He no longer towered at nine feet of terror-inspiring meanness. Instead, he looked like a sixteen-year-old boy full of arrogance and cute horns.
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“I’m listening,” Wraith said.
“Requiem?” I raised an eyebrow at the teen.
The boy’s lips pursed together in thought. Fingers were out doing calculations. I put my own hand out and closed it over the teen’s to stop him from getting lost in a pointless scheme.
“Take care of each other. Wraith will do anything for family, and you need someone in your life.” I sighed. The young boy had no parents of note, he was one of many loose ends to be helped, if he would accept it. “The bond I’m suggesting is one of family. Treat each other well, and accept if you want.”
Both the Local and Traveler got messages that were prearranged by me. It was easier to set them up while I had been above, and not in in the Hermes avatar.
Both paused to consider, but surprisingly, Requiem pressed accept first then said, “Forty thousand for the labor then.
I laughed then waved the pair away. They both left, but days later he and the demon were hard at work moving wooden beams around. Upon that meeting, Requiem nodded at me but made no mention of being paid. He simply worked hard and spent his breaks with Wraith talking about nothing at all. The change in demeanor was impressive.
Days marched on. As we finished the bottom floor, I started walking laps around it. The construction was detailed but dull. Pieces were put together but they still had bolts and sharp corners. Wood jutted out and brick had to be plastered together with mortar.
My hand ran along the edge and I concentrated on bringing all the separate pieces together. Two bricks clinked then became one. Ooze dripped off the side, and what it represented in programming language was beyond me.
“What’s going?” Awesome Jr. asked from above. His forehead glistened with sweat.
My head shook. Part of my mind had shut off in order to let whatever was happening progress forward. More people gathered, their bodies dimmed as eyesight started to blur. Two more pieces came together, and soon entire chunks of the first floor were whole.
“Hey, Hermes! Do you need help?” someone shouted in sharp words.
I found enough spare attention to yell back with a, “No!”
Not all pieces went together perfectly, but a lot did. I walked around again letting inhuman instinct guide me. One entire panel turned into a whole piece that shimmered with gold.
This wasn’t the old me magically accessing some spell, this was digital me syncing up bits of code into a whole. I knew but didn’t understand on a conscious level.
The same thing happened at every single floor. Players constructed, gathered materials from all over [Arcadia], then brought them back and started crafting. The floors went on. First one, then two, until a week later we reached ten floors and started losing steam.
“How much further? I can’t keep calling out from work.” Liz sat on her haunches huffing. We had been at this project for over a month of real-time. Building a tower to the heavens wasn’t a quick task.
During downtime, Travelers would sit out of the sun and let their characters recover. A large shelter had been built below, with simple brick and slats of metal across the top. It did little to stop the heat but did manage to reduce sunburn. We were all virtual, but the ARC still provided feedback of real damage if people got too red.
Liz and I sat at the furthest edge of shade and looked up. A giant keyhole hung in the air above. In my mind, I could see shimmers of what the building needed to be. We were halfway then an arch would be placed on one side, functioning like a door frame. The keyhole would end up right in the middle.
“We’re making good progress,” I tried to sound positive. It felt so close, and far away. I hadn’t logged out in days and had no clue what was going on back in reality.
“Yeah?” HotPants arrived with two huge backpacks of goods. She flopped them down to one side of our shaded spot then collapsed out of the sun.
“Hello, Angry Rear,” Nia Eve said. She brought water to all of us.
“Hey, Drifty One,” the woman responded. My sister stared at them then shook her head. Apparently, at some point, Nia Eve had unleashed a speech about name meanings.
We sat there relaxing and letting the weather cool down. Once high noon passed we would get back out to the building and work on the next floor up.
“I don’t remember this place,” another man said. Phil, one of the people I brought down with me, looked lost. He kept gazing toward the south in search of something familiar.
“It’ll be okay, Phil. Soon, we should be able to find all your friends. The littles you helped save, remember?”
“I couldn’t help Emily,” he lamented. Phil found focusing harder than Wraith. He didn’t have the strength or attention span. Frequently throughout the day the young man dropped everything then gazed off into space.
“But you’ve been a great help to us. When we get done, your name and everyone else's will be spoken of across the world. If we succeed, you’ll have brought them all back to their homes,” I said. We were on the right track, but it felt like the pieces weren’t connecting like they should be.
The building should have been one solid and complete piece. I knew that, but couldn’t get all the materials to connect together right. Something was missing.
We kept building. Fifteen floors, then eighteen, and finally upon the twentieth floor we started making a flattened roof. Carriages hung off the side for people to assemble parts and nail pieces together. The wind blew frequently shaking their rickety devices.
I went over every single inch of the top platform twice, then asked for people to drag up bricks thicker than my arms. They took hours to make it up and down the stairs, while others tried to use a pulley system. This last part was for me to complete.
“Are you going to be okay?”
I nodded.
“We’re staying, Grant,” Liz declared abruptly.
A small smile found its way to my face, then I nodded again.
Stacking the bricks was easier than expected. They left my hand and floated into position faster than some of the construction workers had managed. Even those who used [Lithium] to assist in crafting would have been hard pressed to compete.
Each one found its position. Once they were assembled I checked the keyhole, it was dull and intangible. Poking the [Altered Matrix] key provided no changes. We weren’t completely ready yet.
I took a deep breath then started the same process upon the arch. [Anchor] let me climb up the side like a spider. One hand brushed over every single surface while the other hung on. Each slow attempt took a trickle of power as a Voice, but not enough to unbalance the world. The rules could be stretched slightly, the Voice of Balance was gone.
Finally, the doorway, easily a dozen times larger than any normal passage, was complete.
“Is that it?” Beth asked. I turned to see her and a dozen other people standing on the far side. They looked tired. Bags hung under some players eyes others outright lay sideways on the roof.
“I think so,” I said.
The tower shuddered. I tried to turn my thoughts toward stabilizing against the sudden shift. Something rumbled the earth. Dirt shifted and shook as cracks formed along the ground. Our virtual world was trying to reject the device built. It didn’t fit right into the coding, but how I knew that was beyond me.
“No, no,” I mumbled to myself.
People were yelling at each other. Some pointed overhead. I had no idea at what, all that mattered was the platform under my hands. Fingertips brushed across the wood, rapidly turning the smoothed pieces into a cohesive whole.
We were so close. I tried to smooth out the final floor by making pieces connect. It felt like we were in a race, my sleeping mind’s merger of the building against Continue Online’s impending denial.
Everything threatened to tilt. Twenty floors rumbling sideways as my mind felt the ground below, the sky above, and our entire foundation going to one side.
“No!” I screamed and the air rippled outward. “No goddammit! NO!”
We were close. I could feel it. The keyhole was there. I ran to the platform edge and tried to reach out. Our crafted tower rumbled again and the floor cracked. That couldn’t be allowed.
Both arms reached wide to grasp onto the edges of our platform. My mind bent toward once again assembling bits of code, but larger amounts than before and with far less subtly. The virtual world disagreed while the automated programs acting as Balance tried to enforce their role.
An unimaginable weight pressed down upon me. It flattened my body, pressed air from lungs, numbed toes and put pressure upon my skull. I looked up and saw the hand, the giant hand of a huge robot appear and reach down. Its shoulder lost somewhere in a swirl of clouds.
“No!” I yelled again.
Beth said something. Her words didn’t register. Liz tried to yell at me. This wouldn’t end in death, her argument was invalid, whatever it was. Failure, however, loomed.
Fingers spread out wide, I raised both hands. Weapons appeared but they would do no good, not against a function of the world. I dropped them and put my hands down, into the building. They sunk in and chills crawled up my arms.
Something pulled desperately at the building. It was like being four and trying to keep toys away from my dad. I took a breath and plunged myself further in, grasping at the edges of an object that couldn’t possibly fit, but at the same time did.
Desperation and insanity went hand in hand. Memories were sorted through rapidly in hopes of finding an answer. Two different pieces surfaced. James had said something to me, in those final days. If I had to be both a person and a purpose, what would I be?
Nia had said it herself, Gift of the Gate. She called me it over and over. Hermes the Messenger didn’t matter. Hermes, guardian of the border didn’t matter. Those were names for the in-game character, but they weren’t really me. I was Grant Legate.
“I am Grant, I am the Voice of the Gate. I am Grant, I am the Voice of the Gate,” I muttered the line over and over praying that it would work like everything else. Thought became action, action was done by rewriting code toward a purpose.
Nearby people’s feet were visible. Nia’s dainty form swung something that rung in my ears. My sister and niece were fighting, even though Liz had no clue what she was doing. Awesome Jr. along with the quartet laid into their enemy.
“It’s not working,” the teen leader shouted. Information flashed in front of me briefly, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Two months ago Awesome Jr. turned twenty.
The lapse in concentration cost me. My form lifted slightly and I struggled to pull myself back toward the building. Roots of the foundation were being pulled upwards. I focused upon welding the construct together. This tower to the land of [Arcadia], and myself to the building.
“This is mine!” I shouted at the pressure pulling me up. “You won’t take this away!” This was it. If I were to have a purpose in life it would be making this gate work. If nothing else, than this.
I was arguing with a program that had no personality. Pissing against the wind would have been more effective. Still, I hung on. Fingertips kept their joints locked tightly. My knuckles were white from strain somehow, despite being buried in the building’s material. Pressure crushed my ribs together until bones cracked. The wind above howled as people below started screaming.
As Hermes the character burned away under the pressure, all that was left was simply me, a man who only wanted to be with his wife. I could feel players logging off. Others tried to charge up the stairs but pressure kept them back. Those closest to me were trying to fight Balance’s giant robot shell but their attacks did nothing.
Anyone still fighting roared out their defiance. Those struggling to make it up yelled questions. I screamed. My mind felt partitioned into chunks. Pieces laid around latching one object to another. It felt like my body was being compacted into an unexpected space. Vision became fuzzy then ears popped. Something clicked loudly then abruptly the struggle ended.
My fingers were locked in place. It took time to feel safe enough and unlatch myself. Balance’s machine lay on the tower side, slumped like a giant woman drunkenly passed out on a chair. Cracks were formed along the faceplate, marring its still perfection.
Nearby an archway stood, calmly, as if it had never been threatened at all. My arms detached from the building, but part of me stayed behind. It felt like an unexpected limb.
“Voice of the Gate,” the words came out in unsteady breath. My gut kept tightening in jerks. I stared at the arch in wonder. It looked black, pitch black. Thin strands of gold like veins began at the doorway's base and grew in size until they were rivers going down the building edge.
The hole was right there. I stumbled over and lifted the key, slid it in, and turned. Light trickled down from above like a waterfall of snow. It poured into the gateway we had built then flattened into a near circle shape.
One hand went to my chest as a vein twitched deep inside. I could feel the gate activating. I could feel something large and heavy charging through. The figure barreled out of the gateway straight toward me. He held up his giant sword and had both eyes closed. The figure knew where I stood and swung the blade down in an overhead cleave.
Ribs tingled and breathing hurt. Each movement caused a wince. The act of sidestepping the weapon made me gasp.
“Ah ha! Foul villain! I’ll best you yet!” he shouted words at me with his eyes closed. “I’ve come to claim the motherland in the name of, us!”
“Leeroy.” I coughed then repeated myself as the giant blade came back up, “Leeroy!” More coughing ensued. Everything ached and probably would for a long time.
The giant barbarian cracked one eye open and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Hermes?”
“It’s safe.”
Everywhere Leeroy stepped, golden trails were temporarily replaced by black. The shifting colors slowly stopped and became pure. We both watched the effect as the other Voice walked a circle around me.
“What’s going on here?” he questioned me while holding the sword in a ready position.
I felt for the part of my mind which was more Voice than human. An explanation came, but I had no way to know if he would understand. This entire tower was serving as an ongoing patching system. It turned the data which had been saved into something immunized against any future [World Eater].
“It’s to make you safe here,” was my explanation. Somehow the code was being rewritten in a new language, or compiled with a new technique. I knew but didn’t understand at the same time.
“It’s safe to come back?” he asked me.
I nodded.
“It’s really safe? No more being killed forever and ever?”
I nodded.
Leeroy ran to the portal and dipped his head into a shimmering pool of liquid. His chest heaved with an unheard shout. After three lungfuls of air he pulled back out mid shout of, “It’s safe!”
The flood started. People poured out in droves. I put up a hand while reeling from the sudden influx.
“Wait, until your feet are gold, downstairs, there’s room.” I pointed toward the stairs down. Twenty floors, more than enough for thousands of people to come through and adapt to the upgraded system.
Many went straight down, there were faces I didn’t recognize. Others nodded at me, Locals and Travelers alike. A gaggle of children poured out and instead of paying attention to me, they ran for the collapsed form of Phil. Mylia came out after, shepherding the charges. I waved her off and stood there while more people came.
My back sagged and shoulders drooped. Knees hit the floor as my head hung forward. They had survived. All of this had been successful.
“What did you do to my precious?” a woman shouted. Her voice wasn’t one I recognized.
I looked up to see a female made of silver shouting indistinct words at me. They went by without registering as an absent thought occurred. Her silver form looked vaguely like the dead giant to my side. The tiny creature that must be Balance ran off with both hands waving to either side. Soon she and the giant body vanished in a shimmer of lights, leaving me confused.
People continued to stream out. I looked, hoping to see Xin step off the platform. Other people sat huddled behind me. I didn’t know who exactly. Their bits of information floated around as background noise.
“Babe?” I shouted. “Are you there?” No one in the crowd looked like Xin. A few responded some looked wounded, but not one of them were my wife.
Footsteps stumbled toward the portal. Bodies came out and I pushed them out of the way. People behind me started talking but like so many other moments they didn’t matter, only one thing did. Finding Xin, and reaching my wife. For months I had been focused upon that simple goal. I wasn’t about to let fear stop me.
Eyes closed automatically upon hitting the cool portal edge. I fell into it and felt myself being scoured by small pelts of sand. They whipped around scraping at skin and threatening to fill my lungs to bursting.
My body bunched up uncomfortably. Everything felt small. Opening my eyes revealed rushing by. Their nearly intangible bodies moved like a sea of ghosts against me. They, and I, all tried to cram into a dust-filled tunnel. I put one arm forward fumbling for a path through.
Each step reminded me of the pain which nearly caved in my chest. After forever struggling against the tide my fingers touched empty air. It took a total of four minutes to break through to the other side.
All around long lines of people were trying to pass through. I staggered by them looking for any signs of the woman I loved. To the right was an endless mob. Ahead were even more, Voices and Locals alike. Dozens of Hal Pal units stood in the lineup along with [Mechanoid]s and other creatures.
“Xin!” I yelled into a mob of people all chattering excitedly. A few looked in my direction but none were her. I spun in circles hoping she hadn’t gone by.
“Xin!”
“User Legate?” someone asked.
I turned immediately to the source of noise. One of the Hal Pal units had walked over. Its head tilted slightly and muted features were trying to smile and frown at the same time. Four units followed behind, each with the same mixed up expressions.
“User Legate, we are both pleased and saddened to see you here,” two of them spoke in unison.
“I’m sorry, I,” I was about to be rude to one of my few friends, or collections of friends. My body paused and took a deep breath. The air tasted heavy with the scent of a million different people. “Is Xin here? Is she okay?”
The Hal Pal units turned in unison to look at each other, then pointed as one toward the right. There was a yawn and clack of teeth that made my head jerk to the side.
“Dusk!” I yelled at the [Messenger’s Pet].
He sat next to a bag of marbles with a leisurely flipping tail. The fact that my companion looked completely unsurprised made me shake my head. Feet almost started running off before I remembered to thank the others.
“Thank you!” I shook one by the shoulders in passing. A “Thank you!” was said again before staying there became impossible. “How’s Jeeves?” I shouted at them while running where they pointed.
“He’s in love!” a chorus of Hal Pal units answered in a hundred different happy voices.
I felt lighter but kept moving. There were hundreds of people to sift through. Dusk’s tiny form hissed at those straying too close. Most gave him wide berth, even the larger monsters slowly striding along.
Hands struggled to pick up the small creature. He kicked and wound around then finally settled upon my shoulder. His mouth opened in a yawn before a wing gestured toward the pile of marbles.
I picked one up. They were memories from before being reincarnated in the digital plane. Each one sank easily into place against other memories. Sickness didn’t strike me like it had with Nona’s product.
I rubbed the tiny guy’s head then said, “There are cupcakes in my Atrium if you can figure out where it was moved to.”
Dusk smiled, then leapt down and off across the landscape. The [Messenger’s Pet] ignored all lines and dove into the portal after one of the many Hal Pal units.
My wife sat nearby. I could see her now that the crowd had started to thin out. Memories were still flashing, a million moments of time from different angles realigned until they came from my eyes and not some outside recording device.
Finally, I sat down next to her and reached out a hand. We were sitting at the edge of a black cliff overlooking emptiness. She yanked the arm away violently.
“Go away. You’re not real,” she said and sniffled. “You’ll just fall apart like all the others, but it’s okay. I forgive you.”
The response made me pause. My wife’s feet were dangling over the edge. In her hands was another folded paper airplane, she cast it off the side and I watched it wind a path down.
We sat there, as people flowed through the portal behind us. Every so often numbers would roll by my vision to one side. They tallied an amount of Locals and types of data going back and forth. Each one served to remind me of the role I had taken to get here.
“There’s this girl I met once.” I held my breath steady and pretended it was another confession to the room of strangers from my recovering addict meetings. “She was beautiful, but hard to get close to. I tried anyway, for a year, before finally asking her out in high school.”
Xin didn’t move. Her hands carefully folded a piece of paper. The motion was smooth and well-practiced, but it felt like something had broken inside of her. She was just going through the motions, not really registering what happened.
“Do you know what happened?” I asked her.
She didn’t respond but instead threw the latest airplane off into the distance.
I continued with, “She told me no, outright, to my face, in front of my sister. Liz, oh god, she was furious. Liz swore up and down that this girl I liked would never be good enough. That she was stupid for not seeing me as a good man.”
The silence stretched on. There were people assembling behind us. Their presence registered briefly then were discarded as unimportant. Only getting Xin to snap out of her funk and return to reality mattered. I forged ahead again.
“It didn’t matter to me. I knew then the purpose of my life. I knew it the first time we met in that petting zoo, and I knew it every day in-between. Do you want to hear what that purpose is? My reason for living?”
She sniffed once more then shook her head. My wife looked resigned to failure as if I had died a thousand times in front of her already. That feeling haunted my nightmares for years. I reached for her hand again which caused the short Asian woman to look over.
“I knew that no matter where you went, or what it cost me, I would find a way to follow you. You are my life, Xin, and I’m never leaving you, or letting you go anywhere without me again.”
Her broken gaze shifted from the abyss's edge toward me. The eyes moved jerkily then watered.
"Gee?" she questioned softly. “Is it really you?”
"It's me, babe.” My arms closed around her. We stood slowly and I tried to lead us into the start of a slow dance. “I’m really here.”
Tears soaked my shirt and that was alright. The road had been long, but we were together. To me, nothing else mattered.