[Player Log Start!]

[Log Holder: Lucky Paine]

[Level: 2]

She was aware that her world was much less advanced than the others. Extravagant though they were in their hover technology, and eager to show off all the wealth they had accumulated, architecture and science had never had the space to thrive that they felt like they deserved.

It was heartwarming in a way, that there were worlds out there where that potential for discovery had not gone untapped. Even if it had led to the inevitable fate that waited for them all.

For a long time, the research had been considered by her as a passing interest. Little tidbits of information and context that had no real bearing. But now, it was coming into handy for their adventures now, as Feathertooth, the untrusting and duplicitous raven began outlining in hesitant sentences the plague that was striking its people.

Cancer.

The awful word sent shivers down their spine.

In their homeland, a lot of the higher ups were catching ill. A misuse of the word, Ben interjected, as the disease was not something that could be caught. Except perhaps genetically. Feathertooth had seemed intrigued by this but continued anyway.

Keeping the chain of command and proper power structures intact was a must, so they covered up this phenomenon. It was in part the truth as to why many of the corvid masses had never seen the inside of the upper echelon’s quarters. They could not allow for the tumors to be seen by the rest of birdkind.

Promising to bring the humans in was a risky shot. But they had thought it to be an acceptable amount of risk in exchange for whatever healing properties humans had on them.

This was where Ben drew her eyebrows together, “Why would you think humans have healing properties?”

“Because that is what our historical records have shown!” Feathertooth snapped, “And before you concur, this is not like the flying incident, because you have repeated the trick in front of our very eyes, in case you have forgotten.”

It was right, Lucky grudgingly had to admit. Their special abilities weren’t helping things. But those were restricted to people who were Players. No way humans in this world were all capable and well-known for healing. Unless they were missing some important context. Or this was simply a quirk that the humans of this world had had. The same way Asad was so adamant that magic was a commonly practiced art form in his world.

Ben had not considered that factor, clearly, as she paced in front of Feathertooth’s cage, “I mean, we can do it. Because we sold our souls to a Game and a System, and I still don’t know the difference between the two, but those are what grants us this ability. You can’t just- just- be Healers.”

“The humans of old managed it.” Feathertooth replied, taking a moment to clean it beak on the perch.

“There was something deeply wrong with the humans of old.” Ben told it, before turning to Lucky with that fire in her eyes, “But you know what this means right? It’s a mystery that we gotta solve!”

“The next boss had better not be a Healer.” Lucky decided, shuddering at the thought of a century old former-person who could stitch themself back together after every hit. Or worse, a Harbinger. Celia had implied that there weren’t any Healers in their ranks, but if their place of origin was here, where it was an inherent part of human biology… that might the loophole needed to have them on their side.

“Oh, hard agree.” Ben nodded, looking similarly perturbed. She turned towards Feathertooth, batting her eyes in a way that might have been innocent if all parties present weren’t aware of what she could do, “So, FT, any chance you could take us there? I mean, you’ve seen us healing. We can definitely help with getting all the radiation out from this city-nest of yours.”

“After you laid waste to our flock?” The raven made an impressive attempt to spit at their faces, “You won’t be allowed anywhere near!” It was about the reaction she had expected from it. Still, she admired Ben for trying anyways.

Undeterred, Ben continued pushing, “Just a general description of the area? Perhaps a stab at some coordinates. I won’t tell anyone where I got the info from!”

“Over. My. Dead. Body.”

“Jeez I think that’s going to be a dead end.” She whispered to Lucky, who nodded as if this was not the expected outcome.

“A valiant effort, Benedict.” They comforted her, as she pouted. The birds here were loyal creatures, fighting to the point of ruin and capture in their one battle together. She had a feeling that not much would get them to relinquish such sensitive information. At least… if they used their normal methods.

They found their hands drifting to the cards tucked secretly inside the armrest of their chair. Two cards. Each thrumming with the same energy. Each with the same title plastered over them. Cards of Compulsion. Both Burks’ and Jared’s. Technically, Jared’s card also belonged to Burks at some point, but enough of his own points and experience had gone into cultivating that Card that she felt like it was rightfully his.

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And now, it was hers. She had every right to do as she pleased with them, after being wronged and misled by these Items for so long. It was completely justified when she reached her hand underneath and rested her hand onto them both. Twin dialog boxes appeared in front of her, each displaying the same message.

[Accept Card of Compulsion as a Held Item?]

[{ } Yes {x} No]

Ben was looking at her. And the dialog boxes. There was a look in her eyes that seemed almost reminiscent of disappointment. That was fine. Lucky had failed plenty of people before. This time it just burnt a little more than it usually did. She clicked [Yes] and she didn’t feel bad about it.

[Ability Gained: Compulsion (Lv.10)]

She shuddered, the power almost overwhelming, until she got a handle over herself again.

[Applying Compulsion…]

No time to waste, she got to asking questions immediately, “Where is the nest you intended to take us to?” Was her first, and was it just her who thought her words had a tangible weight to them, rippling through the air?

The raven shuddered, and for a moment Lucky feared that it would not respond, too animal to be affected by the wiles of the Cards.

“It belongs to the Isles in the sky.” It finally chirruped, “Forty miles east from the fledgling pit. A click to the west. Straight on from the serpent’s eye during midsummer night, and away from the bears during winter.”

Lucky nodded, “Any security details we should know about?”

“It is out of reach of even the largest of octopus or squid, which means inaccessible to any non-flying creatures.” Feathertooth shuddered, before continuing to talk in its hollow monotonous voice, “There are cliffs below that might prove scalable to those brave enough to try, but they are known to be treacherous.”

“And guard posts? Reconnaissance? How is it looking at that front?”

“We have many birds, constantly on the perimeters. Flying overhead. Blending in amongst the clouds and the islets. Not just ravens and crows. All sorts of intelligent species, though-” and here a bit of that trademarked arrogance came bleeding back in, “None quite so intelligent as the ravens.”

“And what of-?” Lucky began to ask, seeking more and more, like the truth was a tap that had only now been opened to more than a trickle.

“Don’t you think you’ve asked enough?” Ben asked, cutting off her quest for knowledge. Lucky couldn’t help the burning anger that rose from her thought process being interrupted, and she glared unbridled rage at the woman.

Ben met her head on, refusing to back down, and Lucky sucked in a breath. The rage went as soon as it came, leaving her empty and distraught. Weakened, almost. She sank into her chair, looking aimlessly ahead, “Yes, I… I think that is enough questions.” She agreed, taking her hands off the Card of Compulsion. It wouldn’t take it out of her Ability set, but it still made her feel better.

Because what had she done?

“I think…” She began again, trying to sort through her thoughts, “That I must simply think. For a little while. Work on my wheeled chair.”

Never mind that all the materials she had for it were here, in this spot, even as she wandered away, her mind frazzled and desperate for distraction. Lucky was aware that she was not a good person. She tried to be, but years of complicity didn’t go away easy. The rot she had tried to purge when the world had finally been gripped by an Apocalypse had seeped its way into their core long before.

It was just disappointing to see how far it had spread. Like a personal failure.

Once, they had considered herself to be kind. To look for those that had it worse. Now, they had picked up two Cards of Compulsion, and turned the unthinkable onto a bird. She was beginning to think that perhaps it was not that she was a good person, but that she never had the means and justifications to do bad before.

And now that she did, it felt like a drug. It felt like being on top of a train going three hundred miles an hour, with the skin threatening to peel off her face. It felt like the beat of metal wings on her back and the thrum of machinery under her legs. It felt like she had lives under her command, to be used and killed off as she pleased.

It was a heady sensation to feel.

Lost in her thoughts and desperate to escape the judging stares of Ben, whose approval they had sought so pathetically before, they stumbled towards Verity, lying in the only cot they had built so far.

The girl had yet to regain consciousness for a prolonged period of time. She did every so often, if Michael and Tench were to be believed, but it was only sporadic, always a panicked jolt of awareness and futile begging for people that weren’t here. Michael reported that each time they had been focused on comforting her and coaxing food and water into her before she would be falling back asleep. It was a precarious cycle. But it was all they had.

No one knew what was wrong with her. The fight was taxing, but not to this extent. She had fought things before in limited air and toxic environments. Her Sub-Level in Trackland had been example enough of this. But something about the squid had shaken her system to the point of delirium.

Lucky looked down at her, feeling desperation rise inside of her. Verity was small, like this. Her hair washed and fluffed out and separated into braids by Asadullah. It made her look almost too put together. Like an open cast funeral.

A sob worked its way up their throat, and that was not the right thing to be thinking of in such circumstances.

“Wake up, will you, Vera?” She murmured, “We’re going to need you.”

Verity twitched in her sleep, and for a moment Lucky feared that the Compulsion Cards had worked their heinous magic onto her with that simple line. She turned away. Lucky Paine was not one for magic and manipulation. They worked with inorganic stuff. Metal and glass and cold, hard rock. That was what their Mechanical Affinity was about.

Their Mechanical Affinity.

They had been reluctant to use it as much, determined to hold onto the skills worn into her hands. But now… she had to accept that she was simply inconveniencing others in her quest to be independent of the System. She couldn’t use rubber, she’d tried before, but she could at least make the frame. If she just reached out her hand and willed it to.

Metal swirled into existence from her hand, doing just that.

[Player Log End!]