“Isn’t that wrong one, Shin?”

Shin had been a literal world away, still chewing over the memory he’d lived during the night. “Eh? Sorry, what’s wrong?”

“You’re doing the wrong one. See?” Mimasu paused weaving the other kobold’s hair, giving the simple weave he’d been forming a little waggle. “Why are you doing the formal knot?”

“Oh.” Shin looked down at his own hands, still full of Hanbun’s pale yellow locks, finally noticing he had absent-mindedly drifted away from the casual braid that would have been most appropriate for their circumstances. “Right. Distracted. Sorry..”

“I don’t mind,” the guard shrugged, still working on braiding Mimasu’s hair herself. “I’m used to it anyways; Banken pretty much live in the formal knot. Structure, discipline, all that. Even the hobgoblins wear it.”

Wren scratched at his day’s growth of beard, squinting an eye down at the three kobolds’ hair-braiding daisy chain. “Not in the business of telling people their business, but a shorter haircut’d probably shorten your mornings a touch.”

“That’s precisely the point,” Mimasu lectured, putting the final flourish on Shin’s braid. “We wear our hair long because it turns our mornings into deliberate acts of community and consideration. It’s civilized!”

“It’s old fashioned is what it is,” Hanbun admitted. “But it’s good to keep tradition alive, right?”

Bex flipped her own smartly trimmed bob cut as she grumbled down at Shin. “Yeah, well, if a certain someone had given me the heads up when I was finishing Character Creation that long hair was such a cultural touchstone for kobolds, I’d have gone with someone longer than chin-length. Mine’s taking forever to grow out.” She huffed in half-genuine annoyance. “Can’t believe that Hair Salon Kits cost a whole Royal Coin.”

Hanbun grinned at the peeved Player, waiting for Shin to finish re-tying her hair. “It’s fine, Bex. You’re a warrior; warriors wear their hair short.”

“You’re a warrior,” Wren pointed out. “Your hair isn’t short.”

“She’s a Banken,” Shin retorted, still distracted. “It’s different.”

“Banken have a dozen official and ceremonial duties,” Mimasu clarified, “each with its own formal braid. And then there are braids for social duties, life milestones, personal declarations…a kobold who has cut their hair short is declaring that they will spurn all facets of life besides a single one.” He perked up as an example struck him. “Like Gero! A warrior like her would never even consider needing a braid for courtship or anything of that nature. They either make war, or they don’t make war. No room for anything else.” Mimasu beamed at Shin. “Right?

Shin did his best not to clack his teeth, failing miserably. “You don’t do anything but take notes, Mimi. Why don’t you cut off your braid.”

Mimasu sighed. “I know, traditionally speaking I really should, but…”–He sighed again, toying with his braid–”No, I couldn’t. I like being fancy too much.”

Ugh. Whatever. Not even Mimasu being Mimasu could distract Shin long enough for the memory of last night to slip from the foreground of his mind. It was…sticking more than it did the first time. After his first Leash-granted vision, the sense of actually being someone else, someone who lived a life incomparable to his, had quickly faded away. He’d been shaken, but he was back to himself quickly enough.

Now? He wasn’t sure. It felt different this time. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still feel the conflicts within Doug’s state of mind. His initial respect and budding dislike for his new boss. His longing for and slight revulsion towards that cat hair festooned lady. His embarrassment for and stubborn defensiveness over ploms.

It was hard enough being Shin. The kobold did not have the emotional stamina to be someone else, too.

“Well as long as we’re talking about what people should be doing,” Hanbun cut in, rising with a hand on her hilt as Shin finally finished with her hair. “Shouldn’t those Players have ambushed us by now? I don’t think we could have made ourselves more tempting targets than this.” She sniffed thoughtfully at the air. “Are they even still there?”

Before Shin could respond, a voice growled out from the brush. “We killed them. It was taking too long.”

Bex groaned at that, holding herself up by the haft of her halberd as she slumped over. “Oh come on; we had a whole thing planned!”

“No,” the voice barked, the blood-soaked Wild Daughter it belonged to emerging into view. “You spent too long talking about hair. We got bored. The Players got bored. You see this?” She gestured towards the fresh Player viscera staining her weatherbeaten clothing. “This is boredom blood. It’s all bland and shit. Only cure for that is a good stabbing, either giving or taking.”

The Wild Daughter, Shin couldn’t help noticing, had cut her own hair so close that she was nearly bald. That was about as definitive a statement as they came. Higen’s taste for contemptuously dramatic gestures was alive and well in the hearts of his kin, it seemed.

Still, there was information to be gathered even if their plans had been preempted. Shin took a peek into the underbrush, catching a few moments of inspection before the ruins of the Red Players’ bodies could start to vanish. Hm. “Hey Bex?”

“Yeah? What’s oh bleh!” Bex recoiled as the catastrophes that had once been living bodies came into view. “Jesus Christ.”

“I told you,” the Wild Daughter deadpanned. “Boredom blood. Gotta get it all out.”

“What’s up with their gear?” Shin inquired. “That doesn’t look like the Starting Zone stuff the others had on.”

“Oh. No, it doesn’t.” Bex frowned. “That’s…hm. See that sword?”

“Kinda.” Shin crouched, squinting at the weapon as it began to fizzle and fade away. “What about it?”

“That’s from a premium currency Guild Starter Kit. I think all of their stuff is.” Bex chewed on her lip. “Red Players with a Guild Kit. That’s wild.”

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“I’m surprised they can even buy stuff with Royal Coins.”

“What? Of course they can.” Bex quirked an eyebrow at Shin. “Mundi would never stop someone from giving them money, for any reason. But Guild Kits are expensive. They must have split the costs. At least a dozen of them, probably more.”

“Is that so strange?”

“Oh, absolutely. It’s like that thing you’re doing with the Time Out Room for Profession Quest trolls.” Bex gestured towards what remained of the Red Player corpses, now little more than an outline. “If even one of these guys decided to screw over the others, they couldn’t have bought a Kit. But apparently not one of them did.”

Mimasu hummed in concern, still fiddling with his braid. “They’re getting more organized. That’s not good, is it?”

“It’s not,” Shin confirmed. “We’d better hurry to Brightly.”

————————————————————————————

The village of Brightly was warm and bustling, a shining little bastion of good people living honest lives, and it was the worst place Shin had ever been.

He’d known going in that the people there wouldn’t be like him and the others from Shinki Itten. Wouldn’t be “Procedural”, or whatever term the world wanted to use for real living people. Brightly was like Magica City, a carefully curated puppet show rather than an actual place where people actually lived, and as disturbing as Shin had found that experience in the capital he’d thought he was prepared for it now.

But in Magica City, there were thousands of Players to draw the System’s attention. In Brightly, it was only Bex. And the System wanted to make sure Bex knew how much It appreciated her.

“–Anything at all, and I mean it!” the Mayor of Brightly enthused, shaking the embarrassed Player’s arm with as much gusto as he could manage. “My wife and I can’t thank you enough! Can we, cabbage?”

“No,” the Mayor’s little wife demurred. “We can’t.”

“Anything we can do for our hero!” The Mayor’s grin was far too wide. “BexMex, the Hero of Brightly!”

It had been a nonstop parade of this. The villagers of Brightly seemed to mostly go about their daily chores and personal lives, but as soon as Bex got within twenty paces of any of them? They stopped whatever they were doing and immediately rushed over to thank the girl for finding their lost sheep, or collecting those rare flower petals, or killing fifty grundleflies, or any number of other tasks that had seemingly solved every problem they had in their lives.

Nevermind that Bex had never even been to Brightly before. She outleveled the content here, and apparently that meant that canonically she had been the one to save everyone here. Shin had non idea what ‘canon’ was, but he knew that he hated it.

Oh shit the Mayor was looking at Shin again. “Did she tell you? About how she rescued my wife from those awful cultists?” Oh blugh eye contact. “Did she tell you?”

Bex cut in before Shin had to open his mouth and risk flooding the entire village with an ocean of vomit. “Yeah I did but hey I gotta go.” She pulled up a prompt, starting to type out a message as she turned away from the two. “So, uh, goodbye.”

Luckily, the villagers had clearly been scripted to recognize and not take offense at the cold shoulder. The Mayor and his wife cheerfully thanked Bex again before scampering back into their house, prompting a group shudder from the kobolds the moment their backs were turned.

Even the typically stoic Wren was clearly unnerved. “Trees-damned hell,” the general swore, mopping the cold sweat from his brow. “I’ve never been around…”–He seemed to be struggling with the word ‘people’–”I’ve never been somewhere like this. What’s wrong with their eyes?”

“I know exactly what it reminds me off,” Hanbun declared, her hackles fully on end as she glanced over at Shin. “You remember them. At the fortress?”

Of course he did. And she was right. Every time Shin looked into the eyes of one of Brightly’s scripted villagers, it was like he was staring into the glass eyes of the stuffed mongrel they’d found in the guard camp. Empty. Unthinking. Their souls stolen.

Only these stuffed mongrels walked around like they were still people. The guards that had tormented them for generations could have never matched the System for depravity.

“We don’t have to stay here, do we?” Mimasu asked, his voice a faint whine and his notes quill fully stowed away. “Aren’t we supposed to go to the starting version of this place? Or something? Anything has got to be better than this.”

“When my friend gets here and I sync to her level, we’ll get pulled into the Instanced version of the Zone. And, um, on that note,”–Bex sent her message, a sheepish look on her face as she closed the window–”My friend. I didn’t…exactly tell her what we were doing here?”

Hanbun tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I didn’t tell her at all what we’re doing here,” Bex confessed, her ears turning red. “She thinks we’re just meeting up so I can show her the game. I’d love it if we could keep it that way?”

Hmm. Shin was getting a whiff of something here. “Sure, Bex, whatever you want. Why, though?”

The girl shrugged, her slight frown anxious as she downcast her eyes. “I dunno, I mean, we’ve only been chatting for a few weeks. But it’d be cool if she had a good time, so we could maybe start hanging out in Magica. She kept saying she couldn’t try it, because her Mom’s really strict, but she finally said yes this time and…” The girl shrugged. “Yeah, I dunno. She’s cool. I just don’t want her to think I’m just using her, even if it’s to help you guys.”

Aw. “Don’t worry,” Shin promised. “We’ll do our best not to-”

Bex threw open her message window almost before the alert could even ring out, her nerves evaporating into giddy excitement. “Omigod she’s here! Okay, okay. Okay.” She whirled on her feet, then turned back, then spun right back around once more and rushed for the village entrance, calling back over her shoulder. “Gimme two seconds first and then come meet us, okay? Okay thanks great!”

“Mm.” Wren folded his arms, tapping a finger thoughtfully against one bicep. “Your Player friend seems smitten.”

“Yep,” Shin agreed. “I know someone who is going to be less than thrilled.”

“Really?” Mimasu tilted his head. “Who?”

Before Shin could reply, the sounds of Bex excitedly calling for them rang out from down the path. “Well, that’s our cue. Shall we?”

Whatever Bex’s concerns had been, they clearly vanished the moment her friend was actually in front of her. The sound of excited chattering was obvious long before they were even close enough to make out what was being said, but as the Shinki Itten group neared it was clear that Bex’s friend was equally thrilled to be meeting her.

“–Said I had to pick it to get this Starting Zone so whatever but I think it’s cool, right?”

“No totally, elves are great! Your ears though!”

“Right?! There were like a billion million types of elves so I just picked the last one; apparently they’re Wanwan Elves and they’re new and they have floppy ears and shit. So hey this is Magica! This is so awesome!”

“Right?! It’s just like being, oh! Oh, hey guys!” Bex furiously waved to the group. “This is her!” She grinned back at the pallid little elf, whose ears were indeed long and wobbly. “These are the in-world friends I told you about, Cho. Let me introduce you!”

She needn’t have bothered. At least not with Shin. Even in the kit of a new Player, even as an elf, Shin wouldn’t mistake the pale skin and inky hair, the features that called to mind one of his oldest friends, or the big dark eyes that sparked with a hint of panic as they recognized him as well.

Bex’s new friend was Rippana Choujo, the Esteemed Daughter and Avatar of Tasaan Okaa, and she was somehow a Player as well.

Shin couldn’t help noticing that, even as an elf, she’d braided her hair. Huh. Courtship knot. At least he could tell Momo that her divine daughter was doing her part to keep their traditions alive.