Silence reigned in the Great Hall. Looks of shock, fear, disbelief, and anger colored the expressions of the remaining Dark Apostles. The sixty sorcerers at the Great Hall’s periphery remained prostrated. At the center of the Hall, the catatonic form of the Seventh Apostle. Some of the Apostles fell to the ground, and others leaned against a wall or sat down heavily in a chair.

Numbly, Enzo healed the wounds in his forearm and shoulder. He saw as the shattered bone extended forward and reformed into a single straight bone. A moment later, Enzo’s muscles surged forward and knitted themselves back together. Then the skin near the wound crawled across the exposed muscle. The skin that covered the wound was a shade paler than the older surrounding skin. Enzo only vaguely felt the pain of the healing process. He had been numbed by what he had just been told by GM.

If GM were telling the truth, Enzo was an engram: a copy of a human mind that had been transformed into computer data. Engrams had been a popular concept in science fiction for a few decades, but no one had successfully made one. It was impossible. Enzo felt exactly the same as he did before he had logged in. Even the pain felt the same.

There was no way it could be true, Enzo thought. If it were true, what of the soul? Did he still have a soul? If a human mind could be digitized, could a human soul even be said to truly exist? Enzo’s spiraling thoughts were interrupted by the sound of shattering glass.

The great stained-glass painting of GM shattered into pieces and fell to the ground. The Dark Apostles turned to see that Dendrite had torn a large stone chunk from the floor and thrown it through the window. Dendrite let out a wordless shout and marched out of the Hall with his shoulders hunched and his steps quick. None of the Apostles followed him, but five of the sorcerers broke off and left the Hall. At this point, the sorcerers began to stand up.

A few of the Apostles went over to Nailman. After seeing that Kamil had healed himself, Enzo joined the five-man group around Nailman. This group included Svenheim, Kojiro, Null, Eight, and Ten. Enzo still hadn’t heard the names of the Eighth and Tenth Dark Apostles. Eight was a white woman whose height approached six feet tall. Her hair was an unnatural blue color, and Enzo couldn’t tell if it was her avatar’s natural hair color. Her eyebrows, on the other hand, were dark brown. Ten was a middle-aged South Asian woman who couldn’t have been over five feet tall. Enzo had covered the number on his chest by this point, but neither Eight nor Ten had done so because their outfits would have to be significantly altered to cover their whole chests. Null kneeled down next to Nailman’s prone form. She put her hand to Nailman’s neck and grimaced.

“His heart rate is erratic,” Null sounded like she was on the verge of tears. “He’s still in terrible pain.”

Svenheim carried a dark look on his face. He looked down at the man he had so recently argued with. On the ground, Nailman had the countenance of a small scared animal. Aided by their enhanced senses, the Apostles could tell that all vestiges of Nailman’s higher-level intelligence had been obliterated at that point. Suddenly, Svenheim’s expression turned to one of disdain and disgust.

“Null,” the First Apostle said in an unsettlingly quiet voice. “Could you please move out of the way?”

Null got to her feet and moved away from Nailman.

Without warning, Svenheim drew his pistol and shot Nailman in the head. His hand moved with such speed that no one could possibly have stopped him. The bullet struck Nailman in the middle of the forehead and broke through his skull with little difficulty. The shockwave instantaneously destroyed what remained of Nailman’s brain, and the bullet struck the marble floor. Nailman’s head jerked as several unseen fractures spread across his skull. Then, Nailman moved no more.

“What the Hell was that!?” Eight shouted.

Svenheim looked Eight in the eyes, his gaze unwavering. “No human should ever be subjected to something like that,” the First Apostle said. “I hope you’ll do the same for me should GM ever ‘delete’ me.” Svenheim then dropped his pistol to the ground and walked out of the Great Hall. His sorcerers followed him close behind.

Nailman’s corpse then began to disintegrate. Fumes started to rise from his body, and he was soon reduced to a human-sized pile of ash. Nailman’s clothes remained behind. Five of the sorcerers hurried forward and collected his clothes and, presumably, the key fragment hidden somewhere within the ash. None of the Apostles moved to stop them.

Enzo could hear a strange sound from behind him. He turned to see that Talwar, the Second Apostle, was giggling uncontrollably. Darren, the Third Apostle, was sitting at the table with his head in his hands. Melkior seemed deep in thought. He gestured to the sorcerers, and a handful of them stepped forward. Poldra was pacing back and forth near the central table.

Watching the sorcerers leave, Kojiro shook his head free of doubt and said, “We should follow those guys. It would probably be for the best if we meet with the new Seventh as soon as possible.”

“Might as well,” Eight said with a sigh. She walked over to Null, who was staring at the spot where Nailman had died. All that remained was a large pile of ash. Eight grabbed Null by the shoulder and shook her. Null wordlessly got to her feet. She was clearly taking the situation poorly.

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Eight lightly patted Null’s shoulder and said in a reassuring voice, “Come on.”

“I think I’ll stay here and catch up with Melkior,” Enzo said.

“Sounds good, Thirteen,” Kojiro said. “Maybe you and Five will think up some strategy to stop the Revenants from tearing our hearts out.” Kojiro laughed at his own joke, and Null shuddered. With that, Kojiro, Null, Eight, and Ten started to walk toward one of the Hall’s entrances.

“Don’t leave the castle,” Melkior called to the departing Apostles.

“Why not?” Eight responded.

“If we all wander off, the Revenants will just pick us off one by one,” Melkior said.

Each of the four departing Apostles agreed to Melkior’s request before leaving the Hall. It was very impressive seeing the large group of sorcerers following them close behind. Enzo figured it would be annoying to be followed by five people all the time. He wondered if he could tell them to leave him alone from time to time.

Melkior received a long cylindrical case from one of his sorcerers. He removed a large rolled-up piece of parchment from the case, unfurled it, and placed it on the central table. This was not immediately important, so Enzo briefly surveyed the rest of the Great Hall.

Other than Enzo and Melkior, there were still three Apostles in the Great Hall. Talwar and Darren were talking to one another far to one side of the Great Hall, and Poldra was still pacing contemplatively. From what Enzo could see, Darren was listening to Talwar rant about something.

Enzo walked up to Melkior. As he approached, he saw what was written on the recently unfurled piece of parchment. It was a map of Merkopia and eastern Rubigo.

https://i.imgur.com/2cwiuP8.png [https://i.imgur.com/2cwiuP8.png]

Enzo remembered the haphazard map that Tantalus had shown him. The map in front of him looked about the same but with significantly more detail. The map contained the continent of Rubigo and, off to the northeast, the Island of Merkopia. It was strange, though, that the map still seemed a bit simplified. If Enzo understood the map’s size correctly, then there were huge swathes of land that seemed to hold absolutely nothing.

“Melkior,” Enzo said, “I know these aren’t the best of circumstances, but it’s good to see you alive.”

“In a manner of speaking,” Melkior said, looking down at the V on his chest. “How did you die, Enzo?”

“Blood loss,” Enzo said. “The Deluvians attacked the City, and I died defending it.”

“It’s ironic, isn’t it?” Melkior asked rhetorically. “I’m fairly certain that all of us were killed by Deluvians. Now, we command them.”

“Is that right?” Enzo asked, confused.

“One of my sorcerers told me that each of us controls one-thirteenth of the Deluvian horde,” Melkior said.

“So, you’re telling me we could stop the Deluge right now?” Enzo said.

“Assuming ‘Deluge’ means the war between the Revenants and Deluvians, you’re right,” Melkior said. “We could pull back our soldiers and try to make friends with them. Not to get all Socratic, but what do you think would happen then?”

Before Enzo could collect his thoughts and speak, Poldra approached them and said, “They would still kill us.”

“Correct,” Melkior sighed. “They’re still trapped against their will. They want to go home. Plus, they’ll all be killed in ten years if they don’t kill GM.”

“If we could just convince them to stay and live here, then nobody has to die,” Enzo said. “GM said he just wants to ‘entertain’ the players. There’s nobody to entertain if everybody’s dead.”

“The Second Truth,” Poldra said, mimicking GM, “I never lie.”

Enzo sighed heavily, the truth settling in. “I’m sure we can convince some of them.”

“Absolutely,” Melkior said. “Any strategy that could possibly end with our success would require a significant amount of persuasion.”

“What are you thinking, then?” Poldra asked.

Melkior then gave a broad overview of his plan. Once he was done explaining, Enzo and Poldra agreed that it was the optimal path for them to take.

“We should split into two groups,” Melkior said. “One will travel to Rubigo while making sure to not fight the Revenants in any meaningful way. The other group will stay here and research this game’s leveling system.”

“I’d prefer to stay here,” Enzo said. “This whole ‘Dark Apostle, enemy of mankind’ thing makes me feel uneasy.”

“We’ll talk about this more when everyone is present,” Melkior said, “but our goals would be served better if you went to Rubigo.”

“Why?” Enzo asked.

“You know how to shoot straight,” Melkior said with a smile. “I suspect that most of the rest of us can’t say the same.”

“Fine,” Enzo muttered, “but you owe me one.”

The three Apostles spoke slightly longer before wrapping up their strategy meeting. They began the preliminary process of deciding what they would do once they arrived at Rubigo. Melkior kept the map of Rubigo on the table, stabbing a knife through it to hold it in place. Many of the sorcerers flinched upon hearing the sound of the knife slamming into the table. Once the meeting was done, Melkior and Poldra left the Great Hall, leaving Enzo alone with his sorcerers.

Enzo turned to look through the shattered window. Never in his life had he felt less in control of his own destiny. GM had foreseen how the Apostles would react, and he knew that none of them would seriously resist GM’s wishes. Enzo realized that Nailman was a better man than him. Despite all of GM’s best attempts, he could not convince Nailman to turn against the other 30,000 people on the server.

Enzo looked at the scattered pile of ash on the floor.

“Good for you,” Enzo whispered before leaving the Great Hall. Enzo then disappeared into the shadows of Castle Bosporus. In that moment, Enzo bore a striking resemblance to GM.