[Player Log Start!]

[Log Holder: Simon Mitt]

[Sub-Level Game]

The newcomers were a disturbance of the like that only happened once a year or so. Not that they got any newcomers every year. Just that something this eventful didn’t happen more than annually.

Or maybe less than that, even. After all, he’d been living here all his life, and no one had ever been able to give him a solid way out. Most of that was because there was no need to do that, obviously. The world outside was dank and awful, where you were constantly hunted and forced to run. In here, the Game was simple and enjoyable, something you genuinely wanted to play.

For some reason, none of that seemed to appeal to them, so desperate were they to escape the confines of this cloying Sub-Level. He wished them the best of luck on their attempts, as long as they could find some way to bring the rest of them along, too.

Right now, he was on a mission to check up on the progress of one of the newcomers. He climbed up the mountains, tracing the path carved out by thousands of feet before him. It petered off a few meters ahead of him, he knew from experience, as the altitude got too high, and the rocks too unstable to make for good walks. Still, he had not found Asadullah Khan yet, so he continued onward. If he were to follow them into the wilds, the likelihood of there being safe paths painted out for them was… low. Best to get used to it now.

A voice spoke, words flowing and sharp, but the meaning eluding Simon completely. He looked up, and there stood Asadullah, perched on a root sticking out of a sheer cliff. In front of him, his translation subtitles were already displaying what he had said.

“This really isn’t a safe climbing place for you.”

“For me?” Simon spluttered, “What about you? That root isn’t gonna hold your weight!”

“Nah, I tested it, it’s fine.” Asadullah assured him, but hopped off anyway, landing back on a ledge a couple feet below. He made quick work of finding narrow and near-invisible footholds in the rock wall to scale his way over to him, acting as if gravity were a mere suggestion until he landed in front of Simon, his hair sticking straight up, almost obscuring his ears.

“What about you, though?” He continued, tail flicking as he looked way too carefully at Simon’s legs, “Doesn’t seem like climbing’s a regular hobby for you.”

Had something in his stance given him away? Simon awkwardly tried to adjust his stance into something more hiker-like, whatever that meant. Asadullah huffed out a laugh, and he wanted to crawl into a hole. Or just pitch himself off a cliff. Hey, look at that, there was one right here-

“You were looking for me?” Asadullah prompted, before rethinking that, “Actually, that sounds super self-centered. You probably weren’t. Obviously looking for something to hunt. Even though you don’t have weapons. Okay, what’re you doing up here?”

Lots of questions to answer, so Simon went with the most comfortable option, “There isn’t any game.”

“Huh?” Asadullah looked at him in surprise.

“Game.” Simon repeated, “There isn’t any in the mountains. We hunted them all out. Sometimes there’s a seasonal event, though, and deer and stuff gets released into the wild with crazy loot drops.”

Asadullah took a shuddering breath, “Oh, that- that’s crazy, too. But for a second I thought you meant the Game game. This translator doesn’t always pick up on that stuff.”

“Right, sorry.” Simon laughed, “I was looking for you, actually. Wanted to see how your Sub-Level Objective was going.”

Asadullah sighed, deep and hard, and flopped down on the edge of the trail, legs dangling off the side. There was no ledge below to catch them, just a couple hundred feet of sure death. Guess they were having a heart-to-heart here, of all places. Simon gingerly sat down next to him.

“I lived in a town like this, you know.” Asadullah explained, running a hand through his hair, taking special care to run a hand over the rim of his ears, “More ramshackle and frozen, but it was what it was. Great people, great food, a community that thrived. It was the type of place I would die to protect.”

This was new. None of the other people had ever felt it important to share what they had done before they entered their Game. But given the nature of their Game, and in truth, everything that lay outside of Delica, Simon didn’t have a good feeling about where this story was leading.

“What happened?” He asked, his mind already conjuring images of it burning to the ground, ripped apart by evil, uncaring forces, who saw it as only an anthill to be destroyed. The truth of the matter was far too similar to that nightmare scenario.

“Empty suits of armor came from the sky.” Asadullah explained, his head tilted skyward, as he was expecting them to come down here, too.

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“They attacked wholesale. And I was able to destroy one, but they kept coming and coming, overwhelming from every direction. I thought I was going to die there. I thought that I wouldn’t be able to save my village. And then the very first green panel appeared.”

“The Invitation.” Simon nodded, recognizing the hook.

Asadullah nodded, grateful that his words had sparked some understanding in the boy, “That’s exactly what it said! And it said that if I wanted to save my village- and my world, by extension, then I could enter the Game. That eventually, I would be able to do that. If I just… kept playing the Game.”

“It must be one of the upcoming levels, then.” Simon assured him, “Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance to do that.”

“But what if I get there and there’s nothing of mine to save?” Asadullah asked, voice soft and insecure, “Everyone else, they have an idealized version of their world that they want to bring back. Except for Ben, Tench, and Terry, who’re now in it because they’re so altruistic. I just want to save my patch of the world.”

Simon had never stepped out of this daydream fantasy land. He was not equipped for internal conflicts so existential. Why had he thought he could do anything to help them???

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Asadullah shook his head and laughed, “Too much? Guess I didn’t want to freak anyone out by talking about this kinda stuff with them.”

“Not even Terry?” Simon asked, taken aback, “You two seem close.”

Asadullah’s cheeks flushed, “I mean, I suppose. But we haven’t known each other that long. A couple months, at most. It’s ridiculous to think anymore is happening there.”

“If you say so.” Simon allowed, Asadullah nodded decisively, and the conversation ground to an awkward halt. He tried to think of what to say, taking dialogue and advice from Mrs. Mitt’s stories, and other media he’d been entrenched with since he was young.

“About the village…” He licked his lips awkwardly, “I think that if you’re doing the right thing, even for slightly selfish reasons, it’s okay. Cause it’s still the right thing, you know? And you still want to save people. You aren’t getting anything out of that other than people who care about you.”

Asadullah clicked his tongue, “Guess you’re right, kid.”

“And if you’re playing a Game.” He started, pulling it around to a conversation he was much more familiar with, “Then it’s going to be an endurance test. Every time, it has to be an endurance test. Even if you’re going for a speedrun or something, you gotta make sure that you’re at your best before diving in. The fastest way you’re going to get something done is by doing it right. First shot. Because chances of you getting a second?” He gestured with one hand, “Low.”

“Not for you, though.” Asadullah pointed out with a gleam in his eye as he looked at Simon’s wrist Console. He almost asked what the boy meant, before it caught up to him on its own.

The Save File Hidden Ability.

He wasn’t a fool. He knew exactly why they were eager to have him on board. Otherwise they wouldn’t bother taking on an inexperienced, unqualified person like him. Nice to have confirmation at least.

“But even I can’t make sure that you get through this.” He told him gently, “So, I need you to let that tension in you go. As soon as you can.”

Asadullah nodded and breathed out, his entire body going slightly slack.

“I can do this, I think.” He confessed to no one in particular, “I’m going to go back home.”

“And all the power to you!” Simon agreed, sensing that his part was done and dusted. He stood up to make his exit, and Asadullah looked up at him in confusion.

“You’re seriously going to try and walk away after all that? We were having a moment!” He complained, standing up along with him. He wasn’t tense, though, or seemed to be upset at all by Simon’s attempt at escape, instead, he cracked his knuckles and looked down the more inclined side of the mountain, rather than the sheer cliff they had been standing on before, “Tell ya what? I’ll take ya down with me!”

He had a feeling that Asadullah wasn’t talking about simply walking down, and was quick to shoot down the offer, “No, thanks.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. All the kids loved this, back home.”

Simon shouldn’t listen. But the guy made it sound so appealing. Even though he wasn’t a kid. So he took the man’s hand.

Asadullah’s eyes shrunk into slits, fur rising through his skin along with it. Simon only had a second to have second thoughts before Asadullah’s grip on his hand tightened, yanking Simon onto his back. Muscle expanded over his body, fabric melting into flesh and fur as he warped more towards a mountain lion form.

And then he flung them both off the cliff, cold air snapping against Simon’s nose and ears. He screamed, but it was muffled by the sound of the wind. They landed on an outcrop of rocks, Asadullah’s knees buckling to absorb the shock for just a moment, before they were in the air again.

“Stop screaming!” Asadullah called out to him, “This is awesome!”

“To you, maybe!” Simon replied as they made another harsh landing, “This is horrible!” And even as he said it, he couldn’t deny the hysterical laugh that left his mouth when they landed on a branch and did a full loop around it, Asadullah’s feet locked sharply on it.

Okay, so this wasn’t so bad. He could see why kids in Asadullah’s village were so fond of it.

By the time they reached the sloping bottom of the rockier part of the mountains, and Asadullah bodily picked him up and set him aside, Simon’s hair was sticking back all the way, and his cheeks stung to the touch. Asadullah started to shrink down, shaking himself out and returning back to his most human appearance.

“That was awesome.” He admitted, gleeful.

Asadullah grunted beside him, not responding as he fidgeted with his sleeve, the one with the red bangles on it. He wasn’t acting right, Simon realized. Too stiff, and distracted after going on such a thrilling run.

“Hey, are you okay?” He walked around the guy, trying to make eye contact with him. Something was wrong. His eyes were dazed and unfocused, and his body was frozen, hand still gripping onto the arm of bangles. And ough, the bangles.

The metal ones were burnished and rusted-looking, and the red ones were now transparent. Where that color had gone was obvious from the crimson liquid leaking out from the arm, which wasn’t how he thought glass was meant to be colored.

“Asad?” He asked, slowly, waving a hand in front of his line of sight.

Asadullah pitched forward, eyes hazy and unfocused.

[Player Log End!]