SAVE POINT 85

Loading a Different Kind of Scrappy Warrior...99%

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Dormouse

Rosabella's the first person I see as I throw my green hood back from my face. We lock eyes from across the room. She's terrified—it doesn't take a rocket scientist or someone with a degree in engineering to figure that out. The ghost of her face is drained of all color with her parched lips falling open. Her, usually sharp and bright, eyes are framed with purple bags.

No one told me expressly what happened, but I went gathering as I worked on the code. I chatted up the guards, hugged some townspeople, kissed some babies... I mean, when people put you up on a pedestal as a Level 10 it's just kinda natural. You fall into it.

And I didn't have to force the information out of them; they were all too willing to talk, and the details just spilled over their lips...

Till I heard about two, new strangers in town: a pink-haired warrior and her brunette friend. I mean, what were the odds that Joy and Rosabella had twins in the exact same spot they were headed to?

I did the math and determined it front-and-center: zero.

Zero percent it wasn't them.

And, so, I fast-tracked the code. The people liking me and deciding that I should be the one to implement the test only gave me extra time...'cause I didn't have to create a backdoor failsafe. Now, I can just literally input it in—quickly and quietly—an easy override and no blood is spilt today. As long as neither of the two girls mess this up for me.

My hands are shaking—I just now notice it as my boots take muffled steps on the blue carpet. Deep breaths, I remind myself, calm as fucking cucumber melon.

I try to look noble and reserved as I bow to the really-freaking-scary, assassin guard clad in all black leather at the front and, then, of course, Joy. The pink haired girl raises a confused eyebrow at me, her lips opening in a snarky—

"Good to meet you," I rush, emphasizing the last two words in a way that makes the girl, smartly, shut her trap. "I will be implementing your test today," I turn, widely, looking to connect with Rosabella's round eyes. "Making sure everything runs smoothly."

Oh Grand Dragon, I am the epitome of a fraud or charlatan right now. Even my voice sounds different but—

But I watch Rosabella nod from her place next to the wall—just the slightest incline of her chin as she chews on her bottom lip. And I've done what I set out to do. She knows I've got this.

...Now, I've just got to make sure that I do.

The assassin with the blade I really don't want to find out how sharp it is, clears his throat. And I come back, gasping for air, from the chasms of my mind.

Code.

Test.

Joy's life literally in my fingers.

No pressure.

...If I ever get out of all this bullshit, I am going to retire and sit my ass somewhere on an East Side island beach...

My fingers scrabble in the air, easily bringing up the code box. I hear a murmur of appreciation run through the guard side of the room. Of course, I got their precious code up and running. It's my precious code too—

A box hovers, waiting for my keystrokes.

Please Supply Question:

I cast a quick look at the assassin and Joy before typing the words:

=

answer = yes_or_no()

And, taking a deep breath, I hit enter.

And the 1 button 4 times: 1111111

I hit it a few more times too. It's my nerves. It's hot in here under this silly cape. I'm sweating. I can't stand it when I'm—

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Oh, please let this work! I'm pretty sure I did it right, but there's nothing like finding out in front of a pack of blood-thirsty strangers.

The trigger word was 'pink-haired' and the additional presses of the 1 button should result in—what is taking so long?!

The digital, glowing numbers continue to spiral, computing, as my gaze darts across the room at Rosabella. She looks so tired and small, leaning up against the wall. I haven't seen her look this worn in a while—like she's gonna break in two.

Grand Dragon, don't let me fuck this up! I might fuck up every girl situation I've ever been in but this is technology. I think I know technology—

Beep.

A curser hovers in thin air, pulsing. Methodically, it begins to type:

***No, the Pink-Haired Prisoner Shall Live***

The words hover like the first tangible proof of my own brilliance in the air, glowing a heavenly blue.

Relief floods all the way down to the curling toes under this robe. Thank—

"Release her, The Game has spoken," orders a guard from the front, "She is here by banished from this town along with her friend. Next in line. We will continue the pass or fail questionings; thank you, Level 10. I will handle it from here." The man's voice is clipped and business-like as he bows slightly at me. I return the nod, all too happy to jog out the door but not before my lips curl up in a secretive bow.

Because I brought their code back to life, alright. And I'd made sure to program every single prisoner who's tested for life when I heard what they do with it. All of them will pass. I've made sure of it.

The bright sun stabs at my pupils from behind the peeks of thatched roofs. I shade my eyes to see if I can spot Fiasco wandering the dirt paths chasing butterflies or something when a voice interrupts.

"Not too shabby, dorkus."

I don't have to spin around to know that it's Joy talking to me—her fond-not-fond nickname proceeds...well, everything. But her voice is strung with raspy relief. And her face is smeared with dirt and...some might even call that gratefulness.

I spin on my heel, hiding yet another smile. "You're welcome," I qiup.

And Rosabella ducks out after us too, but her face is tense with more worry. "All those prisoners—" she gasps, pointing frantically back at the Questioning Room, "You can't just leave them there to die. There's a child there—"

Didn't I just say I took care of it?

I rearrange my hands under the billowing cloak, pulling the green folds back, "They'll all pass. Who knew getting an A in programming was literally a life or death situation." I shrug at her.

And her face breaks open in a smile, "Oh my gosh, thank you!"

"You're welcome," I pipe—am I just repeating myself over and over today?

I roam around the nearest hut, craning my neck to inspect the shadowy corners of the streets, "Hey, has anyone seen a lost, black leopard with enormous wings—"

Joy swallows a half-laugh, "Whatever drugs you're on, I want some."

"No seriously," I protest. "I left him right—"

"Where's Rosabella going?" Joy sneers.

That makes me whip around to see the brunette girl creeping along the side of the building we've just come from. She puts an annoyed finger over her lips with a shushing sound. "I'm going back for the other prisoners and the dragons—to free them," Rosabella whispers, her eyes flicking around for any guards, "I promised them."

Joy looks righteousnessly furious, "This is when we don't see eye-to-eye. We've just won our freedom. I say take it and run!" Her eyes are wide and convinced.

And, usually, I don't get involved in girl's fighting—that's like a huge no-no in my book—but...but this time I have a niggling idea...

"You'll never get them out of their restraints," I murmur, "I think I know a better way."

And both girls stare at me as I flip my green hood back over my head.

"Oh my God," Joy huffs, "The world's gone to the fucking nerds. Can't a girl catch her breath after a near death experience?"

But she can't.

We all can't.

I have a part to play.

"Meet me at the docks," I hiss to the two of them, pointing a finger in the direction of the ocean, "If I succeed, the dragons should be able to fly us all over."

'If I succeed.'

Not very confident words, Dormouse.

But I have to be confident to pull this off; I have to be so sure.

"And find my jagwindo," I demand, whispering, "I'm not leaving without him."

Straightening my back, I clear my throat, take a breath and step back through the doorway, into the Questioning Room.

The guards snap to attention at my entrance. The bearded one at the front squints at me, "Level 10?"

"Silly me, I forgot," I bumble. "When I was in the code, I noticed the prisoners are not tagged correctly. Their tags are corrupted," I outline, since it looks like the man isn't following. "I can go and override it manually, but it requires that I have complete access to the unrestrained individuals and complete privacy as I'll need to ask them a set of personal questions. Can this be arranged immediately? If the tags are left corrupt, darkness could seep in—"

At the mention of darkness, the guard tenses. He nods, "Cut out the darkness."

"Cut out the darkness," I repeat, solemnly, nodding back.

He goes to move forward, but stops, leaning towards me with confusion on his face.

I freeze.

Does he know?

Does he suspect? I can barely breathe... He scratches at his chin, "Uh, sir, even the dragons? You need to be alone with the dragons too? Perhaps you'd prefer a...security detail."

I see it. His eyes sweep my thin form up and down.

But all the air goes out of me because he's not suspicious after all. He's just doubting my brawn. ...Ye of little faith...

"Yes, the dragons too," I tell him, standing taller and smoothing out the folds in the green lie that envelops me. I raise a humorous eyebrow, "I'm scrappier than I look."