[Player Log Start!]
[Player: Asadullah Khan (Currently NPC)]
[! Log Translated from Urdu !]
[Level: -1]
It is an oft stated fact that the Mira Mountain range was the most beautiful place in the entire world. Pleasant climate, agreeable locals, and lush vegetation all came together to create an image that embodied peace. Every day was met by gorgeous blue skies and birdsong, and precipitation was never more or less than a gentle spring shower or a gentle winter snowfall that left the place looking like a sugar-dusted dessert.
Of course, there was another curio that brought tourists to Mira from all corners of the world. The fabled Guardian of Mira, who had risen years ago to trap an attacking djinn who had tried to destroy the mountains. They said he was human but hunched low as if he wanted to walk like a beast. His pupils took the form of slits and shone with malice towards all who tried to wrong it. And, most glaringly of all, they said he had a tail almost as long as he himself was, and a pair of feline ears atop his crown, spotted like a leopard’s and just as emotive.
People flocked to visit Mira, whether to revel in the solitude, or to witness this freak of nature by themselves. Or they did. Until two months ago.
Two months ago was when the entire world’s skies were scorched silver. When all the clouds vanished. Two months ago had been the last time the parched earth had felt rain’s kiss.
People hadn’t thought about it much at first. But then envoys started going further and further afield, searching for countries to lend them aid. It was only when it became known that the entire world was suffering from a drought that terror began to rise. The commonfolk retreated into themselves and hoarded the water they had. The scientists and magicians came together to discuss solutions. The military struck brutally to keep dissent from rising. It didn’t work. Fear and blood filled the streets.
The world was ripping itself apart down below, but from the ledges and peaks of the mountains, the Guardian of Mira felt removed from the situation. Safe in the confidence that his people would be okay, with the glaciers nearby to provide water, all the food they could want readily available, and his might to shield them from any outside threats.
The Guardian of Mira had been the one to catch the most violent djinn in three centuries and stop it from breaking loose from its gilded prison. He had the might of a dozen jungle cats. He could stop anyone from hurting his people with barely a twitch of his ears.
The Guardian of Mira was named Asadullah Khan. And he couldn’t stop his best friend from abandoning the security he provided.
“You’re leaving?” Asadullah asked, like a broken record as he followed Tahira, who was marching down the mountain path, rifle and sword tucked under her arm.
“Yeah, we’ve gone over this.” She replied, her patience straining sharply, “I’m joining the army, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You’re going to die!” He insisted, “And it’ll be for nothing.”
“Don’t patronize me, jerk.” She crossed her arms, “I know what I’m doing. You need to wake up and look around. There’s a storm coming, and the army’s the best place to be prepared for the next strike.”
“What storm? Everything’s fine!”
“The sky has been grey for two months!”
“The army’s not going to figure out why sunlight isn’t yellow anymore.”
“Well, we can do something about the suits of armor at least.”
“The what?”
“The empty flying metal suits of armor that have been shooting up Jaadipur down in the South.” She explained with a roll of her eyes, “You don’t read national news, do you?”
“Mira’s all I care about.” He brushed off, “And you think the armor is making the sky gray, because…?”
“They’re coming down from the sky and these are two unexplained things happening very close to each other. What’s not clicking?”
Asadullah rolled his eyes, “This is impulsive and stupid, and you clearly haven’t thought it through.” He hesitated for a second, before reaching forward to pull her into a loose awkward hug, “Be safe. Don’t push your luck.”
Tahira grinned, pulling away to reach up and tug on the ears on the top of his head, “Yeah, okay, Mano. Thanks for worrying.”
“May God keep you safe.” He muttered, patting her on the shoulder.
“I’m probably going to be stuck on purely recon, anyway, cause I’m one of the few recruits who know how to use a camera.” She assured him with a soft smile.
“Still.” He defended himself weakly.
“Alright.” She agreed, giving his forearm a squeeze.
And then Tahira walked down the mountain trail, leaving him behind forever. Asadullah scoffed and turned back. He ran a hand over the row of crimson glass bangles that went up the entirety of his right forearm.
A soft tap of his index finger was all it took to make burning fire and acidic darkness flood his veins. Pale, white fur coated his skin, and his bones twisted and filled out with thick cords of muscle and fat. Three seconds, and he gave himself a full body shake in the form of a white tiger.
He needed to burn his frustration off by a run through the mountains. Luckily for him, the tiger could run fast, and jump immensely high. He lunged from ledge to ledge, maw clenched tight and tail whipping around as he sprinted past.
----------------------------------------
Asadullah continued his pacing through the mountain range every day, unable to relax without Tahira there with him.
It took three weeks for the empty suits of armor to appear.
They came from the skies, just like the rumors had said, and their movements were jerky and lifeless. Asadullah didn’t give it even a grace period before summoning his claws to rip the head off the giant hunk of metal. There had to be someone under the mask. There was no way it could work independently of human instruction.
The metal came away under his claws like butter. All that was underneath were exposed wires and glass bulbs. Not a single human presence inside. He swore, throwing the crumpled helmet to the ground. So the rumors really were true. That didn’t mean anything. These haunted armors were more concentrated near the big cities, and this one must have just gotten knocked off-course.
Just to be safe, he tucked the helmet under one arm, and heaved the armor over the other shoulder, so that he could warn the Mira council about this oncoming threat.
A high-pitched whine cut through the air, making his ears twist and flatten in irritation. Asadullah immediately turned skyward, horror mounting in his heart as he stared at the steel-dull sky. Wave after wave of metal armors swarmed the skies like a swarm of gnats. His very first thought was that Tahira had been right to be afraid of this.
His second thought was that even his biggest cat form wouldn’t be able to protect the village from this. Every part of him was filled with apprehension. It was like even the djinn in his bangles was telling him that he wasn’t going to win this fight.
Still, he had to try. Asadullah puffed up his tail like a bottlebrush, a growl building up at the back of his throat as the wave came closer, and closer, and closer.
Only to freeze in the air.
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Asadullah blinked, but they remained frozen. When it finally hit him that he wasn’t going to be attacked, he straightened back up and cast a look around. Everywhere around him was also frozen and desaturated, as if he was standing in a different plane of reality. He frowned at his sleeve of bangles, tapping it feverishly.
“Did you do this?” He asked, hoping the djinn trapped inside could hear him. But the crimson glass remained frustratingly unresponsive. He growled, turning towards the closest bush in an attempt to smack it. Only for him to ram head straight into a floating green wall.
He groaned, backing away and rubbing his face. The floating green wall continued to glow smugly, black letters painted across it. Asadullah squinted, taking it in.
[You have received an Invitation to The Game]
[Do you accept the Invitation?]
[{x} Yes { } No]
He hesitated, thinking it over. What was The Game? Who invited him? He had no idea what was happening. Even without any information, it was like the idea had taken over his mind. This ‘Game’ had stopped time. What else could it do? Maybe even fight off the armors?
Lost in the trance, his hand reached forward, and tentatively tapped the ‘Yes’.
The wall morphed again, now displaying new messages.
[Your Status has been Updated to Player!]
[You are now being Transported to the Console…]
He only had a few seconds to consider the fact that he had made a massive mistake before the world vanished around him and his feet were swept out from under him.
Asadullah slammed into the solid ground, but curiously, instead of raw rock and unpaved road, it felt like… tile? It was much darker wherever he was now, so he was blinded for a few moments before his pupils expanded to take in the two children who were standing over him. One of them immediately drew his eye, with her long braid and dark mesh clothes that covered up burn scars. She had tall platform boots, but without them he assumed she was short. He wasn’t going to call her out on it though, because she had a knife pressed too close to his neck.
He scrambled backwards, breath catching in his lungs. The one holding the knife scowled and made to run after him, only to be grabbed by the other one. Harsh words were exchanged, but his head felt like it was swimming. Their words were twisting and fluid and for some reason he couldn’t quite parse what they were saying.
“I’m sorry?” He managed to stutter out, cutting into the squabble, “What are you guys saying?”
The fighting children paused to stare at him uncomprehendingly. As if they hadn’t understood what he had said either. The children began muttering to each other, leaving Asadullah lying there alienated.
The panel popped back into existence.
[Languages Incompatible!]
[Preparing Subtitles…]
In front of the children, swirling green letters materialized, almost acting as translations for them. They were talking quickly so the words scrolled by too fast to make out, but Asadullah managed to grab the tail end of the argument.
“-killing him won’t help!” Exclaimed the boy who had held back the knife wielder. He was pale, to the point where veins stood stark against his skin, and he had battered dark lensed glasses over his eyes. His clothes looked as though they were good quality before but were now worn close to rags. He was on Asadullah’s side, though, and that’s all he really needed to know.
The one with the knife rolled her eyes, “Fine, we hold him here and try to figure this out. Think this stupid thing has a translator on it?” She pointed at a small metal box lying on the ground. Immediately, Asadullah knew that something was different about that small box. Maybe it was the floating red C icon above it. That usually drew eyes.
“Uh… I think the translator is already working?” He offered, in a bid of desperation. The other two stared at him. He couldn’t see any words underneath him, but he could assume that the other two could see the translations just like he could see theirs.
“Oh great. The problem already fixed itself. This thing is freaky.” The girl shuddered.
“Do you know what’s causing this?” Asadullah asked, questions bubbling up again, “How long have you been here? Who are you? Did you get dragged here too?”
“Nah, we found this place all on our own.” The boy shook his head, looking a little regretful, “But I guess we’ve spent… ten minutes in this room?”
“We’re in a room?” That made… marginally more sense than the pocket dimension theory he had been thinking of. Now that they pointed it out, he could pick out the faint outline of a door. He reached towards it, delighted. It was hot in the room, so it didn’t bode well for the outside, but he was still excited to see where in the world this Game had brought him.
He was met by a slightly cooler breeze, followed by bone-dry heat that made him want to shrivel up inside. His eyes shrank into pinpricks in the harsh sunlight, and he was too occupied with disgruntled hissing before a few very important details caught his attention.
For one, they were standing in a house that had been hit by a hurricane. Or, it looked like it had been, at least a decade ago, and had since then been left to rot. The entire place was coated with dust thick enough that the children’s footsteps stood stark in it. There was an air of solemn tragedy hanging over it, as if he was standing at a gravesite.
For two, the sunlight, normally yellow but silvery white for the past two months, was streaming through holes in the ceiling shining bright crimson. Nobody had ever mentioned crimson sunlight recently, and it wasn’t golden hour judging by the angle of the sunbeams, so… where even was he?
He turned to the kids, who were watching him carefully. If they had brought him here, surely they would be able to tell him where here was.
“Where is this?” He asked, carefully, so as not to disrupt the translator. He had used translation spells before in his life, but they were never very effective. Best to keep it simple.
“Farmhouse in Leo Wayside.” The girl replied, hackles still stubbornly raised. He didn’t know that place. Was it a province, or a country?
“How far away from Mira?” He decided to ask instead.
The two exchanged glances, which was never a good sign.
“Never heard of that place.” The girl explained, her voice tinged with apology, even while her eyes burnt a hole into his chest.
It was the boy who broke the news to him, looking more than a little terrified, “We think you’re from another dimension.”
No. No, that couldn’t happen. He had to go back to Mira. He needed to be in Mira.
“My world.” He choked out, barely able to get the words out, “Please. My world. My village is ending. I need- I need to help stop it. I need to go back and stop it!”
The girl raised an eyebrow, “Your world isn’t dead yet?” She sounded almost astounded by the idea of a thriving earth.
“I’m guessing yours is?” He guessed.
“For five years.” She confirmed, looking grief-stricken by the reminder.
“But not anymore.” The boy interrupted, holding up the metal box called a Console, “This thing is promising us a way to stop the end of the world. That’s why you’re here. It says you’re a summon or something who can help us.”
“That’s the Game?” Asadullah clarified, “I help solve your apocalypse, you thwart mine?”
“The Game is to stop all the Apocalypses.” The girl clarified, “You’re from another plane of reality, clearly, and you’re facing an Apocalypse too. Which means we’re going to need to stop Apocalypses in all the dimensions.”
He didn’t know how many dimensions they were talking about, but he knew it was an arduous task. That was okay. He’ll get through it. Anything for Mira.
“Well then, if we’re going to be saving every single world, we should get to know each other.” He suggested lightly, “Who’re you guys?”
The two children exchanged glances, before the boy stepped forward, “Michael Kapok.” He introduced, “I can do a bunch, but right now, I’m the only one who knows how to work this computer.”
Computers… the metal box? He’d never seen one up close. He’d expected it to be bigger.
“This is Verity Monroe.” Michael continued, nudging the short girl a little, who scowled even harder, “She’s good at fighting and stuff. Very good at fighting.”
“I’m not exactly a close-range expert, so you better be good at hand-to-hand, Kitty Cat.” She declared, staring into his eyes boldly.
Asadullah grinned, warping his body so that more muscle bubbled under his skin, teeth expanding and poking out of his mouth. Verity returned a savage grin of her own.
“Oh, I like this. I like it a lot. Can everyone do this at your place?”
He fidgeted, unsure of how to proceed, “I’m, uh, somewhat of an outlier.”
She nodded, short and considering, before reaching forward to pat his shoulder. It was a weak and flimsy gesture, as though she didn’t express respect and approval often. He took pride in the fact that he had proven himself to her. Then the green panel with the black box was back again, and everyone turned to look up.
[Create Party?]
[{x} Yes { } No]
Asadullah stared at it, not quite understanding. He was starting to realize that this Game liked to use vocabulary that the other two were more familiar with. It clearly meant something to Michael, though, who laughed and clicked on [Yes].
[Party(Main) Created!]
[Party Members: Asadullah Khan, Michael Kapok, Verity Monroe]
[! Minimum 4 Party Members Required to Start Mission !]
“Okay, so we’ve established that.” Verity announced, “Now, we need to hit the road. I don’t have enough resources to support three people on more than a two-day journey.”
“Where are we going?” Asadullah asked, peering out of the broken window. The entire place truly did look ravaged.
“To the Epicenter.” Michael replied, his voice rising with pride.
“And to Jared.” Verity added, “If we’re going dimension hopping, he needs to come along.”
“I don’t think he’ll be much help without his spy network.” Michael pointed out, context which was lost on Asadullah, who still didn’t know who this Jared was.
But they seemed pretty dead set on the idea that the man could help them, so he shrugged and fell in line.
[Player Log End!]