SAVE POINT 35
Loading An Accident & a Cheerleader...99%
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Rosabella
I get it.
Joy doesn't want me to tell the others about our side mission trek...but I'm having a hard time ignoring the goosebumps on my arms that keep nudging me it might be something important.
How did I even trigger the side mission? And how was it able to clear some of the black rash creeping over her skin? Can I do it again? And what if it's the key to, somehow, lessening the darkness, and I'm here, trapped, by a stupid promise to the pink-haired girl??? There's too many questions and not enough answers.
I try to shake it all off as I watch Joy take huge strides in front of me. The rash on her neck does look better. We've returned to The Game in the same clothes we'd worn before the side mission, and numerous swords jangle on the girl's belt. Somehow, watching her gets me in my head again—really one of the main downsides of walking with the Game Wardens in the almost complete silence that has blanketed our hike and the surrounding forest for the last hour.
Can't someone just talk and distract me for a few minutes?
But the thoughts—questions—continue to circle like ravenous vultures in my mind.
...I'd only overheard part of Joy's conversation with her boss. From what I heard, muffled by the office wall and the music in the club, it sounded like she'd almost stabbed a customer. ...Sounds like the pink-haired girl, anyway...
And, yet, I saw another side of her on that side mission.
I saw a softer side—an inner part that had almost leaked out through her eyes as she'd stared at the despondent girl in the bathroom...something...emotional.
And hurt.
Something that made me want to stop judging her and see her in a new light. ...We had worked pretty well together as a team there for a minute...
"It's right up ahead!" Callen calls from the front of the group, holding up his typical fist over us all for a halt. "Rainer, you, Joy and I will do a perimeter sweep—make sure it's safe—"
I crane my neck over their heads to see the place.
Callen's mysteriously been calling it 'The Temple' for the entire walk. I see, now, that it's the remains of a Hindu sanctuary. Like seemingly everything else in this world, the carved pillars and walls are crumbling with age and overgrown with persistent ivy. The domes of the roof are outlined against a graying sky—is it going to rain here? The building looks as though, at one point, it was extremely grand. Even the shell of it has gold etchings in different spots and vibrant turquoise-and-white tile still showing through the dirt on the floors visible through an open doorway.
Callen, somehow, thinks this place will augment my creator magic, but right now—to me—it just fills my heart with dread.
Because we're at that line in the sand.
The part where I either perform correctly and am able to save their dying world or...
Or I fail.
My throat goes dry at the thought.
I barely know what I'm doing with this magic stuff. I don't even know how I jumped Joy and I into a side mission! How am I going to fix a whole world? What if they've misplaced all their trust in me?
...What if I'm just—
Not enough.
...What if...what if I can't do it?
Dormouse, apparently, doesn't hold any of these churning worries in his stomach. He's playfully teetering on a fallen column, trying to balance on one foot as the others disappear into the thick, surrounding greenery. His ease and the smile on his lips almost makes me jealous for a minute. This new prophesy update is trippy; it's like I can see straight into his earnest and energetic heart. He's like a kid...
A kid that knows everything technological about The Game...wait.
I might not know everything needed to understand how this whole universe functions, but...well, the others do.
...What if I just ask?
Anyone who'd judge me for doing so has disappeared into the brush to do a security check...
I could ask Dormouse...real quick...
"Hey Dormouse," I call, "Can I talk to you for a second?"
The boy looks up, swiping a hand across his dark wave of hair and happily hoping off the pillar to trot towards me. "Sure," he quips, "What's up?"
His eyes have an open and hoping-to-help shine to them. Somehow, it makes me a little nervous. I push down an anxious chuckle, "Well, before whatever it is they want me to do here, I was wondering if you could tell me what you know about side missions." The words all kind of rush out in a jumbled mess, but the boy understands.
He nods, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Uh—okay, so side missions can occur at any time in The Game. It's just a way for Gamers to uplevel—grow their skills. The system gives you a challenge, and you have to accomplish it to win. It's done in an alternate reality within The Game. Usually, the algorithm selects an optimum time for these missions, but you have creator magic; you can literally make them happen."
He's looking at me like I'm God.
It feels...weird.
...And I kind of want to know how I accidently did it for Joy...
"So, hypothetically," I hedge, uneasily stepping on the insides of my boots in the thick grass, "how would someone make them happen?"
Dormouse looks excited, like he's so glad I asked. He whisks a grin in my direction, "So, you'd just shut your eyes and focus on the person you want to deep dive with. It's so cool, supposedly, The Game literally takes you into their memories."
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
I wince a little without meaning too.
Yep. I, unfortunately, have experience with that one.
"But, like, there wasn't a person with creator magic here for years," Dormouse blubbers, clearly already on a rant I can't keep him from, "So, I mean, a bunch of The Gamers on these hacking sites I have to monitor say there's a work around. Basically, you just bypass the creator magic bit by locking it in artificially with code like this—"
He swipes a hand mid-air and a sheet filled with code pops up.
Before I can stop him, his moist fingers land directly on my arm and—
***Welcome GAME MAKER ROSABELLA & GAME WARDEN DORMOUSE to the Side Mission***
SIDE MISSION: Report to field training.
What—!!
Dormouse and I are suddenly standing together in a dirt clearing where a huge, abandoned office building tils upwards, over us—mostly smashed glass and weeds now. The white, modern lines of it are obscured by growing plants and streaked with dirt. Gone is the Hindu temple. We've clearly just jumped into an alternate dimension, and I can't be more frustrated by it—
Oh no, no, NO!
I just got out of the other side mission and am thoroughly exhausted! To have to deal with another one?! Immediately?????
"Opps," Dormouse squeaks the exclamation like a joke, "I've always been a bit of a hands-on learner—"
I glower at him. I'm going to kill the kid—
"Take us out of here!" I protest, admittedly throwing my hands down at my sides like a squalling three year old.
"Oh, come on," Dormouse prods me, "what harm could an extra little game do to pass the time? Where's your sense of adventure?"
Back with the girl who almost died in Joy's arms...
...The girl who was a computer simulation.
I grit my teeth.
"Dormouse, I'm not really in the mood—" I start, but, when I look up, the boy is already wandering away, gesturing me after him with a looping hand.
"Damn! This is awesome! It worked just like they said! This is literally part of my hometown before I made Warden," he yells back over his shoulder, "I'll show you around."
And I sigh.
Because it doesn't look like I'm winning this battle OR this war.
"Fine," I tell him, "But slow down, will you? I'm kinda worn out after all the hiking..."
...And the other side mission I can't tell anyone about... This is just a royal rats nest...
"So, the objective said to report to field training. You're gonna love it," Dormouse sputters, clearly over-excited again as I join him, all but dragging my boots in the dirt as we walk from my lack of enthusiasm, "I know it's super apocalyptic here, compared to your world, but...well, high school is kind of a universal thing no matter where you are. It's our version...plus like survival skills like how to deal with Darken and dragons...how to make fire, you know..."
My two-page essay on the most influential person in my life is suddenly looking like it'd be used for kindling here...so much for universal high school.
"But, hey," Dormouse quips, jabbing me in the stomach with a kidding elbow, "You're doing pretty great at negotiating with dragons even without the classes."
I try to return a smile, but it, honestly, falls incredibly flat on my lips.
"So, this is the main shelter," Dormouse tells me, pointing at the looming office building above with tinted windows almost shining black and navy blue in the sun, "It's just a hop and a skip away from the village, and it's where all the kids stay while we train—kind of like a boarding school I guess you'd say. After you pass here, you're grouped into functions and shipped out into the real world. I was selected as a Game Waren so..."
He seems kinda proud about that, hanging onto the straps of his backpack as we walk forward with his measly chest pumped out a bit.
I'm glad the kid feels important. From what I can tell, he's super smart.
"Training is right in here," he continues, ducking under a low, concrete beam. I follow him, having to squat lower than my knees currently agree with, but I make it through. Darkness instantly cools my face and, as I look up, I recognize that we're in the lower level of a parking garage which adjoins the office section. The concrete has held steady over the years, and huge, rounded columns stand like steady war generals in lines across the vast space. The few cars there have been pushed to the side like ancient skeletons.
And it looks like the place is being used as a gym; red and blue floormats dot the hard floor.
And a line of kids, the same age as Dormouse, stand at attention in the center. He urges me forward, and we join the formation. Everything appears to be going just fine when Dormouse's face crumples in on itself.
What—
I open my mouth to question him, when he cuts me off.
"Oh my God, hide me," he whimpers, hurriedly grabbing me by the shoulders and switching spots with me to cower behind my outline.
"What are you—"
"She's here," he sputters, his face bone-white, "Maude's here."
"Who's Maude?" I ask. I figure I say the words at a normal volume, but they sound bigger, reverberating in the nearly-vacant room—off the hard walls.
Dormouse cringes, "Not so loud!"
That's when neon letters swipe into view again.
...A game pop up:
SIDE MISSION: Updated objective = Ask out Maude.
"No, no, no, no," Dormouse seems to plead with the electronic box, "Anything but that—"
He really needs to get his shit together.
"Who the heck is Maude?" I hiss, taking care to lower my voice this time as I stare at a nearby concrete wall.
And he points.
I have to turn to see her, and, when I do, I understand his panic. Because, from across the parking garage, she saunters towards us.
Long, blonde hair billowing out around her.
Hips swaying on a lean-muscle frame.
Her blue eyes are so bright and intense it nearly looks like there's stars in them.
Oh my God.
This is fucking high school.
And I just met the head cheerleader.
"Her name's...Maude? Seriously?" I spit.
Maude is an old lady name—
Maude sounds like you have saggy, baggy—
"Don't you dare make fun of her," Dormouse counters rapidly, growling, "She's perfect. She's a 10, and I'm a 1.5 if we're being generous. There's no way I can ask her out—"
"You want to forfeit?" I offer, seeing my chance to get out of this side mission and taking it.
"Of course not," he whispers back, "Then, I don't level up. ...I got it!" His eyes suddenly sparkle with mischievous and, maybe, misplaced hope, "I'll make her jealous! I'll pretend I'm into you, and she'll be jealous and try to get me back—"
"She never had you to begin with," I huff, interrupting him. "It doesn't work like that—"
"Oh yeah?" he raises a convinced eyebrow, "I've watched a whole of two chick flicks, and I'm pretty sure that was the majority of the plot—"
She's coming over.
Maude is headed straight for us.
Dormouse grabs for my hand.
I try to shake him off, "Get off me."
"Act cool with it," he speaks through non-moving lips, his anxious eyes raking over the approaching blonde, "Act like you're into it."
I roll my eyes.
And, as much as I don't want to admit it for Dormouse's sake, this mission is absolutely, fucking hopeless.