Omaha was a city on the Great Plains. So a tourist might be forgiven when they were surprised by the rugged hills carved by the nearby Missouri River. But even with the few hills, the area was notoriously flat. In quintessential flyover country, plentiful land sprawled in every direction. So Omaha was a city that spread out rather than up, and only one building even reached two thirds of the height of the First National Bank building’s forty five floors. The tower simply dwarfed the surrounding city.
The only reason to have a tower that tall was ego. Which, Owen mused, was definitely why Nikolai still held court from the thirty first floor. It was just high enough to see over the few other skyscrapers, granting an enviable view of his domain. Players could easily climb the stairs, though they might regret not investing more mana into their physique, and no one cared what mundanes thought.
Frank pulled a cigarette lighter from the pouch at his waist and retrieved a box from by the door. It was full of a random assortment of clothes no one wanted. He retrieved a stick from a pile of wood, wrapped a sweater around the stick and lit the top on fire. The improvised torch burned quickly.
The stairs turned out to be too much for Owen’s long unused body. Still a mundane, he had no stamina pool, and he hadn’t eaten in forever. So his body basically ran off whatever health Frank’s spell had poured into him. Every so often his legs would give out, and the Adlet transferred him some energy, sometimes muttering about using his own health and mana to repair ‘food.’ Soon they were stopping every floor, then every flight of stairs. The adlet recovered from the spell’s drain effect remarkably fast. The wolf man’s stamina and health recovery easily recuperated the tiny amount of stamina Owen could hold at once.
Eventually, Frank saved him the energy of climbing down the flight by “urging” him a little too hard and allowing gravity to carry him to the next landing. By the time they arrived, Frank had given up any pretense it was an accident.
So much for catharsis.
That was an adlet being an adlet. As much as Frank might still be in there, the fundamental drives and needs had changed. He couldn’t feed on the candy bar, but he could feed off his suffering–perhaps literally. There were supposedly species that earned mana from bullying, sadism, and suffering.
Owen kicked himself. He’d fueled the fire by calling Nikolai ‘dad.’ Instead of standing on his own feet, he’d used someone else’s reputation to try to encourage the adlet to behave. That was like blood in the water. He’d admitted weakness to a predator. Whatever Frank had been, he was also something else now. So Owen accepted his lumps and bruises and hoped the lesson was well learned..
On the thirtieth floor Frank pulled him to his feet again, dusted him off, and healed him thoroughly. Then he shoved him through the door into the throne room.
It didn’t look quite the same. Someone had torn away the ceiling, doubling the height of the room, but the renovations were in progress and many remnants of the ventilation, framing, and insulation remained. At least Frank wouldn’t need to stoop.
Other than that, it looked much the same. The room was a former office block, but all the cubicles, internal walls and even the central elevator bay had been torn out and replaced with gothic black stone pillars, though where anyone had found the stone or the expertise for the renovations was a mystery.
Owen tried to eye where the elevator bank would have been. It would be just like Nikolai to make full use of the elevator shaft. He didn’t see a hole or a trap door, but Owen was pretty sure he could spot the general area. He made certain to walk around.
The windows still had a solar protection film, though now there were two rows of darkened windows. They must have found a second in the city store selling the stuff. They made an already dim and spooky floor look that much more empty and dark. The film filtered the light so the room stood dark as if behind sunglasses. A few vampires stood at the windows, observing the city, its surroundings, and even the sun from behind the protective treated glass. Were they trusted advisors? Lords and ladies of the new regime? If Nikolai bent enough to share power with other vampires, then things might have really changed–or become desperate.
None of the vampires took any apparent notice of Owen’s arrival. That was fake. So he was expected, and this would all be a performance to a degree.
Owen kept looking around for hints of how things had changed. The walls of windows and their panoramic view of the city were interrupted by only two obstacles, the throne and the stairwell which occupied opposite sides of the building. Even the other stairways and the bathrooms had been removed. That must have taken magic.
The overall effect was of wide and enshrouded space that could be filled at any moment with a shadowy figure. It gave the impression that Nikolai now leaned more into the drama of his vampire nature. But the room was too empty to draw the eye. He found himself looking out the windows.
Even only two thirds of the way up the building, the view was spectacular. You could see everything. The Missouri river cut along the edge of the downtown streets, and the city across it where tanks waited behind protective berms. Three drones patrolled up and down the river, staying well on their own side of the waterway. Surprise surprise, America still hadn’t accepted Omaha’s little rebellion. One side or another had destroyed each bridge across, so the tanks and artillery to the east were more for support fire than a direct threat.
The airport to the north stood on the edge of the city, just outside the magical zone. The last time he’d looked, craters had littered the runways. Magic had repaired those by now. The terminal had burned down, and the magic seemed to leave it alone, letting the building sit in ruin. It was one of those mysteries of the new magical physics, an old question, and Owen’s attention moved on.
He could see figures running around the buildings in the no man’s zone, likely adlet scavenging. Their territory was to the north, and anyone else was more likely to become food than to find it. The militarization of the south had expanded, dozens of streets and alleys were blocked off with improvised barricades. Orcs manned those walls and patrolled the streets.
To the west the jungle had grown taller. It was hard to tell but it didn’t seem to cover any more of the suburbs than before. The tree lines went right up to the hospital and left it untouched. The college campus, however, had vanished entirely under the canopy. If anyone was left in there, they paid tribute to the Mapinguari.
Owen ignored the hangers on, making his way toward the throne. Frank followed behind. The throne itself appeared unchanged, a gothic carved monster of a chair, but familiar. Owen immediately focused on the king of Omaha. His back was turned, so Owen sent a quick ping.
Nikolai Sadler - Species: (Vampire/Human) - Lvl 62
Aspects: [???], [???], [???]
Spells: Unknown
Weakness: Batshit crazy; no allies, only pawns.
His Precognition aspect was missing. Clearly he’d combined it with one of his new aspects. So now his powers were a mystery, some of them anyway. If he asked around, someone would know something.
He’d also need to ask his teacher about the benefits of fusing two Aspects, and also whether you kept the original spells. If Nikolai no longer possessed Foresight, it would make a betrayal possible. Still improbable, but possible.
Nikolai wasn’t alone on the throne dais. Two advisors hovered nearby, chatting energetically, either unaware or undeterred by the fact that he wasn’t paying attention.
Nikolai sighed, relieved to see Owen. He gave a friendly wave and barked an order to the room. "Drain him." Pain shot through him as something pierced his neck. Of course a vampire had been able to sneak up next to him.
Magic Saturation: 6%...
Magic Saturation: 5%...
Magic Saturation: 4%...
Magic Saturation: 3.4%
Owen's jaw tightened as he bit back his anger. This was how the lords maintained their dominance, draining the mundane humans before they could join the game, develop powers, and become a threat.
Owen accepted the bite with a sliver of dignity, which was hard with a face latched to his neck. Still, there was nothing he could do but endure. There was no way for a mundane to fight back, but he watched Nikolai's face the whole time. Nikolai's moods were like an ocean in a storm, but if you paid attention, you could surf the waves.
Nikolai waved off the vampire who vanished into the shadows. "Heal him." The Adlet who’d brought him siphoned began pouring healing mana into Owen's body. His body drank in the energies, and the weakness from blood loss faded almost instantly.
Owen Rivers: HP 0/0
The notification simply repeated the curse of mundanes. Somehow, mundanes had taken half a step into the magical world and gotten stuck. Without hitpoints, they couldn’t die, but they could heal somehow. And they could certainly suffer. Owen’s teacher did a lot of research into the topic.
Even though dying didn’t actually kill them, just not dying burned mana. And the magical game world treated them like furniture or scenery, burning ambient mana to repair it, albeit very slowly. Mundanes were the redshirts of the magical world. They died all the time, and just came back in a later episode, never to earn any fame, power, or authority themselves.
Powerless, but trapped in the cycle of life and death, like zombies.
Redshirt zombies.
If anyone had cared about this human suffering on a massive scale, changing species had given most players an excuse to stop.
Slavery was kind of inevitable at that point.
"Do you see now what your behavior costs?" Nikolai gave him a kind, fatherly smile. The smile said ‘this hurts me more than you.’
Owen’s mouth was suddenly too dry to speak, but he nodded. His own situation was somehow more precarious than that of a slave. No one ever seemed inclined to explain it.
“Good.” Nikolai gave him a wide ‘glad that’s over’ smile. “Bring in the girl.” Both advisors scurried behind the throne and disappeared through a door Owen hadn’t noticed. The room couldn’t be much bigger than a bathroom, which, when Owen checked his recollection of the standard floor layout, he realized it probably was.
Owen was struck by how improvised the whole operation was. The “private chambers” behind the throne were former bathrooms. The throne’s dais was ornately painted, but he knew it was cheap floor paneling on concrete blocks.
However much time Owen had missed, without industry and trade, Nikolai’s “kingdom” would be impoverished, starved, and completely without resources. Of course, their little magical world had little magics to trade, but the United States could cut them off at any time, why didn't they? They were probably still shipping in military supplies and MREs.
The two advisors returned, carrying a body between them. It fell with a wet squelch.The corpse was rank and fat with bloating. The skin sported a variety of molds and a sickly yellow-green tinge. Hundreds of bodies like it sat around the city. Vampires weren’t the only thing feasting on the undying mundane population. Infection had run rampant in a body too damaged to function. Mold grew on the outside. Pus grew on the inside. Eventually it became a dangerous sack of diseases, likely to erupt if punctured.
Left alone, mundanes were immune to disease. The prevailing theory was that mana burned away the germs for a proportionately tiny cost. But if a body burned up too much mana trying to repair itself, then the disease could get a foothold. Then at some point the disease itself started using mana. At that point it took magic to cure the disease, which was one of the reasons the whole city was under a military quarantine.
It was also the reason hundreds of mundanes sat in buildings, streets, and alleys, aware of their own suffering, but unable to even move.
Owen took deep breaths, trying to force down his building anxiety.
His reaction didn’t make sense. This was nothing new. He’d seen dozens of these. He’d even managed to “save” a few, for a certain value of save. He’d lived with this for just over a year. He’d almost been exactly this on the roof. It shouldn’t still affect him. It didn’t affect him. This one did.
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What exactly was going on? Someone had hauled this body up thirty flights of stairs? For what? Under Nikolai, Owen’s slightest mistake had been punished. Not him directly, they’d haul in mundane slaves and have them tortured in his place. Were they back to that? And if so, what did Nikolai want him to do this time?
No, it couldn’t be that. They’d moved past that.
He’d surrendered the first time they’d selected a woman. His mouth went dry and his chest filled with a cold emptiness he called his soul, what was left of it anyway. Nikolai seemed determined to rip out every last shred of his humanity.
This time, he promised himself, if they drag her off anyway, he would fight, however impotently. There were some things you couldn’t witness and retain your soul. If there was anything left of his own humanity, he had to protect it.
Owen blinked, startled at how far his thoughts had gone. He was prepared to rush them? He found himself laughing again. He was flanked by a nightmare from legend, and he was ready to charge its dark master who terrified the whole tribe into obedience. He still felt woozy from blood loss.
Why? For a woman he didn’t know? A woman he’d never seen before? It was certain death, or it would be, if he could die. Actually, neither of them could die. So what was the point?
He found himself starting to laugh. There was more than a hint of madness to it, but he’d stopped letting that bother him. Sometimes the world was mad, in which case madness was a suitable reaction. His rage boiled up into a scream of rage that cut into the middle of his laughter.
This is why he needed to burn it all down. No matter the cost. No matter the suffering. Letting this continue would add up to more in the long run. That was sane. He laughed and eyed Nikolai. Maybe he could land a slap, if he didn’t still have precognitive abilities.
Wait.
Something was wrong.
The solution struck him, and his rage evaporated into fear. The monsters around him watched with a mixture of confusion and expectation. He laughed.
It must be some kind of mind control or emotion manipulating magic. Any of them could have such powers, Nikolai had three new aspects. Each of them had some kind of power. Some of them must have some form of emotion control, maybe mind control. He seized control of his emotions. They were his.
Except if it was some kind of magical power, as a mundane he would have no chance to resist the spell’s effect. Which meant his only hope was that free will was somehow sacrosanct in this magical hellscape.
Owen smiled at his own naivete. Fat chance.
Owen stopped watching the crowd. Nikolai stood and waited. He watched Owen with a smile, but he just stood there, waiting for something. When Owen didn’t react, Nikolai turned to the corpulent pile of flesh that was leaking on his floor. Nikolai's smile thinned. “Revive her.”
Frank gave him a skeptical glance, but complied. His massive hairy body stepped next to Owen and the funnel spell began to pour life into the girl.
This is where theory diverted from reality. How the spell distinguished between empowering the disease and the girl was another mystery. His best guess was the intent of the caster somehow mattered, but a diseased body took a lot more mana to repair than his own disemboweled and mummified meat.
Several long breaths that stretched into an eternity passed before the bloating began to diminish. Then mold melted away, slowly revealing first mottled skin that balanced on an impossible line between rotting and living tissue. Then the green and yellow tints of infection faded. Frank’s legs shook, and he fell to his knees, but his eyes darted to Nikolai, and he continued to drain his life force into the girl.
The healing accelerated from there. Soon the magic left behind only healthy pink flesh. The chest began to rise and fall. Finally after another long silence, the girl sat up with a scream, clutching her chest and breathing hard.
Not a girl. She was definitely an adult. Whoever she was, she was smaller than him, and that had made him think younger, but freshly restored it was clear she was older, perhaps even a year or two older than himself. Owen didn’t assess her further. Attachment became leverage.
Owen returned his attention to Nikolai. Whatever Nikolai intended, he was still the one to watch.
“Welcome back, Rebecca. Can you remind our audience of our arrangement?”
Rebecca recovered enough to recognize Nikolai and her head went crashing to the floor, rebounding off it in her hurry to press her forehead into the ground. Recently returned from the very brink of death himself, Owen gaped at how quickly she’d rebounded from a much worse condition. Likely she’d had enough moisture that her brain never entirely stopped functioning, even as swelling and pressure in the brain induced madness and untold suffering.
Perhaps Frank had healed her more thoroughly.
So was she supposed to be his new bodyguard? It was an odd requirement for an immortal. Maybe she was a spy.
She knelt, bowing her head and hair into her own filth. Owen felt for her. The smell alone was overwhelming, but the sight of Nikolai had her shaking in terror, but her voice didn’t shake. She called out in a clear and practiced voice, like a student repeating a memorized lesson. “I am to protect Owen. Owen is a thousand times more valuable than me. Every injury Owen suffers is dealt to me two-fold. Only two-fold because you are most merciful. Thank you.” She actually kissed the ground. She’d need more healing soon, or she’d be incapacitated by disease again in days.
Nikolai’s face was grim. “Correct. Very dutiful. I’m sorry my dear, apparently my subjects do not take my words seriously. Wait patiently while I address the issue.” Nikolai turned toward the two vampires who had dragged the girl in. They weren’t particularly memorable specimens. They’d probably been selected for vampirism because of the powers their hosts had developed.
“Thomas, would you explain to me why this prisoner lacked the customary cut across the Achilles heels?”
Owen winced, remembering the sharp pain drawn across his own leg, followed by the meat hook erupting from his gut and curving back into his ribs.
Thomas glanced nervously at his compatriot who was already distancing himself. “Uh-”
“In fact, as previously mentioned, she is to suffer twice what Owen suffers, so there should have been two cuts across each achilles tendon.”
A sword Owen hadn’t seen until blood sprayed extended from Nikolai’s arm. Was that a spell, ability, or artifact? Owen had to reorient himself. For now, it didn’t matter.
He was fixating on details. Wasn’t that a sign of trauma? Or autism. He was pretty sure he wasn’t autistic. He took the time to note the new weapon though, details mattered.
The retreating vampire fell to one knee. He immediately copied Rebecca’s bow, bringing his forehead to the floor with equal zeal. The sword had gone through the leg, severing the foot just above the heel. No blood leaked from the wound. It wouldn’t. The body was dead.
“We employ this cut for several reasons.” Nikolai’s voice turned to a patient lecturer’s tone. “Firstly, the cut immobilizes, as you can tell. Secondly, while the prisoner is hanging, it allows easy drainage of the blood on which we feed.” Nikolai wandered apparently aimlessly, but he kept within sword’s reach of the two terrified vampires.
A gelatinous black mass spread tendrils from the man’s severed leg. The tendrils reached blindly until they felt the foot and began dragging it back to the main body. Nikolai's foot landed on the tendrils which retreated back into the leg with a high pitched hiss, like escaping steam.
“Thirdly, without the moisture from the blood, the bodies easily dry out. A dry body doesn’t bloat or rot. The food remains healthy longer, and the slave can be returned to service in a cost-effective manner. Not to mention the effect a rotting body has for their future Aspects, should we choose to elevate them. Thomas! Can you remind us of the additional reason why Miss Rebecca should have these wounds?”
Thomas looked to the ceiling, clearly stumped. “Sir?”
Nikolai sighed. His easy manner slowly evaporated, and he settled in front of the vampire. His voice chilled the bones. “Because I am cultivating a Truth aspect, and by failing to implement my word, you make me to be a liar. Who knows how much you’ve set my development back?”
The sword fell hard and fast. Thomas’ head rolled. “Get out of here.”
A black leech-like mass flowed out of the man’s back, collecting on the floor as a large amorphous mass. The black gelatinous flesh came together as an amoeba-like pile of goo, forming thin tendrils that reached toward the stairs and pulled the creature toward the stairs.
Unknown - Species: Vampire (Unbonded) - Lvl 23
Aspects: [Blood]
Abilities: Flesh Walking - Vampire mass is unimpeded by flesh and moves through it like water. Limited to one body at a time.
That was the real vampire. Loss of its host was a major inconvenience, but someone would find it a new body. Owen briefly wondered what powers and Aspects the host had possessed. Those would be lost forever. It could be valuable data.
“Back to you, my dear.” Nikolai smiled down on Rebecca before noticing the second vampire still kneeling next to her. “Ah, you. Scoot!” He kicked the second vampire’s severed foot toward the stairs and waved the vampire off.
The vampire scrambled on his hands and knees across the room, snatching his foot before diving for the staircase, allowing the door to slam in front of his fellow vampire, still inching along the floor in its vulnerable, unattached state. Undeterred by the slammed door, the vampire’s true form thinned itself and oozed under the door, slipping out of sight.
“Miss, I do appreciate your services, and I’d like to resume our agreement. Owen has some tasks to accomplish for me.” The fatherly voice was back. Nikolai tried to peek around her face to make eye contact, but her face pressed firmly against the floor. He sighed and pulled her head up by the hair. He gazed warmly into terrified eyes that, after a second of panic, dropped to their gaze to the floor. “However, I must keep my word that Owen’s suffering will fall on you, twice as harshly, yet I can’t wait two years.” He searched her face for a reaction. “Any ideas?”
The room was silent.
Two years? How would he ever catch up?
Owen licked his lips. The cost would undoubtedly be higher. He just had to be ready to pay it.
“I could heal her.” The wolfish grin on the adlet was on brand. Frank had apparently dived headfirst into the adlet lifestyle. “I cut her every day then heal her.” The grin grew as the idea further coalesced. “Of course, it’ll cost me quite a bit of mana. I believe that price should be paid by the vampire who failed in his duty.”
Nikolai's head tilted to the side as he considered it. “Fair. It will be as you said. If the vampire can’t afford it, take payment from his blood. Ah–sorry.” Nikolai’is mouth wrinkled in distaste. “You may take payment from his flesh then, but do not kill. This may require you to take your payment in installments–with interest of course. Does that satisfy you?”
Frank answered with a toothy smile. Owen’s memories of the kid were hazy, but he’d been more the type to be bullied than to bully. A lot changed in two years. Or it changed when all your biochemistry switched to that of a vicious man-eating predator. So what was that on the roof?
“Excellent. We won’t quibble over details. You’re not Shylock. But no murder. We’re a rare breed.”
Nikolai knelt next to Rebecca and flattened her against the floor with a single hand.. Rebecca squirmed under the force until two loud snaps echoed through the throne room as her ribs snapped. The sword appeared again, and Nikolai stared at Rebecca’s feet for a long moment.
“Remove your shoes.” Rebecca floundered to kick off her shoes using only her feet. “Strange how it’s easier with magic to give you new tendons than to repair sneakers.” Nikolai sighed and muttered. “Another thing for the list. I’ll have the wizards look for an appropriate spell. Frankly, keeping all you people alive is really becoming tedious.”
The adlet chuckled. “Despite the fact that they can’t die?”
Nikolai's blank expression rose to meet the red haired wolfman’s gaze. “God, those jokes are tired. You’re just beating a dead horse.” The sword came down, swatting Rebecca across the butt, and they both laughed. Soon the Adlet’s laughter became forced, but he didn’t stop until Nikolai’s chuckle completely died.
“God, it’s been a while.” Nikolai wiped a tear of laughter from his face. Vampires cried blood, and it left a red streak across his cheek. He turned to Owen. “See, things aren’t nearly as fun here without you. Try to keep yourself out of trouble.” A flick of his wrist cut a gash across Rebecca’s heels. She twisted under his hand and screamed. A second swing elicited no scream, but she writhed and hissed.
Owen watched her face. Under the influence of pain, the fear disappeared and anger boiled in the woman. She seethed into the floor, schooled her features, and the mask of fear returned.
“Now,” Nikolai rose and strode toward Owen. “I need you to clear up a few issues for me.” Owen kept silent. He’d seen hundreds of scenes with more and harsher cruelty, but his soul screamed for him to tear off the vampire’s head. He’d never even met the girl. He forced his mind to ignore her. Whatever magic was affecting his mind, he wouldn’t be resolving it now. She’d have to wait.
“We’ve got an inspection incoming. An ambassador from the President is coming. The cover story is a bit of a muddle, but It’s all just a ploy anyway. They’re here to spy and get some free players.”
The notification came as a surprise.
A Filial Son – Quest Introduced
The Rebellion has irritated your neighbor, the [USA]. Placate the ambassador.
“Notifications just appeared in the head. The knowledge appearing on his surface thoughts as if they’d always been lurking in the back of his head, and he’d suddenly remembered them.
The quest had labeled him Nikolai’s son. Owen’s mouth dropped in surprise. That couldn’t actually be true. But could the notification lie? Or was it a joke? Was there more going wrong in his mind than just the girl? And if so, why would a notification warn him? For a moment, he lost himself in the questions the notifications raised, and Nikolai caught him. A terrifying smile spread across his face.
“What kind of notification would a mundane receive?” The suspicious tone deepened as he guessed correctly. “A quest?” His lip curled and his tone deepend.“Lucky you! What reward were you offered?” He probably thought he was smiling. The crowd had begun to murmur. Most likely none of them had ever gotten a quest.
Quests were exceedingly rare and an oddly localized effect. Every other magical eruption across the world had the same game-like interface and rules. Somehow quests were unique to Omaha and thus a protected secret. Quests had revealed a dozen secrets of the magical world that no one had even suspected until they’d been offered as quest rewards. They guided people to unique methods of fusing Aspects, unlocking new Paths and powers, immortality, and one mentioned reincarnation. The potential advantages were incalculable.
“No reward was mentioned.” The statement was met with skepticism by everyone. The promised reward was an essential component.
The vampire’s eye’s rose before he got them under control. Dark eyes played over Owen’s face, searching for lies. A wave of mana poured from Nikolai into Owen, and the spell settled in and then rebounded back, reminding Owen of a status ping. Nikolai had said he was cultivating a Truth aspect. Did he already have the aspect, and a matching power? If so, lying to him might be impossible.
Owen’s mind raced. If that were true, he needed a new strategy. He needed to cleverly word everything so it wasn’t quite a lie.
“I believe you.” The crowd’s murmurs redoubled. They believed Nikolai had a truth spell or perhaps this confirmed a rumor. Nikolai’s eyes didn’t change. His sneer grew as he tried to smile. “Fine. Get going then, both of you.” Rebecca scrambled to her feet, bowed quickly, and ran for the door.
Owen waited for the door to close. The girl was out of reach. He drew himself up. “No.”