GRIFFIN TUCKER VASILIAS, GREAT HOUSE SCION, REBORN LVL 5
MT DISCOVERY, PROVINCE OF ARAGONIA
Noise and light exploded back into Griffin’s world as they were both ripped out of that memory and back into the chaos. The pain was incredible. Griffin reeled and felt his focus fuzzing away as the colors got brighter. His heart was beating hard, he could feel it pounding against his ribs. Then she was there, her hands in his again, shutting away the riot of color and sound, enclosing them in their bubble of calm and peace.
He wept with relief and pain, collapsing against the strange absence where her body should be. She felt real enough. The pain barely faded, but he was at least able to deal with it without the howling insanity. Another pulse from her Third Eye: pink and green bleeding into one another in a blinding flash and Griffin screamed again and—
----------------------------------------
—couldn’t find a single place to sit. The convention center was packed with people slowly filtering through the booths, lining up to get autographs with Katee Sackhoff or Mark Hamill or one of the less-famous but more niche guests, and every single bench and spot against the wall not directly in foot traffic was already taken.
“I just need somewhere to get off my feet for like ten minutes!” Griffin shouted at Pete, who was dressed as the 4th Doctor.
Pete nodded and didn’t bother responding verbally. It was so loud in the convention hall already just from the general clamor and echo, he’d have to shout to be heard anyway. He just beckoned confidently and started pushing his way through the crowd at an insistent speed.
Griffin was impressed that Pete was still wearing the Doctor’s characteristic long scarf in the oppressive heat of the convention center. He was seriously considering ditching the boots he’d spent so much money on: it didn’t matter if it was custom work or looked incredible if it was a full size too small and made his feet feel like the cramped, burning pit of Hell.
Of course, he couldn’t deny that the look was effective: his Attack on Titan outfit was perfect. Except for the damn boots being too small. He followed Pete through the crowd, wincing with each step.
It didn’t take too long for Pete to lead them out of the main convention hall and into one of the side meeting halls. These upper floors had less foot traffic than the main convention center, and Pete had taken them into a meeting hall that had a sign which read “Cosplay Repair Station”.
They went in, shutting the door behind them, and instantly, Griffin started to relax: it was practically silent in here, compared to out in the main convention hall with all the booths. Then Pete led him over to where several chairs had been arranged and Griffin gratefully sank into an unoccupied chair where he immediately began taking off those damn boots.
Once he’d finally gotten the left boot off and started massaging life back into it, he happened to look up and saw Jaina Proudmoore from World of Warcraft looking at him. Not just looking at him, but also smiling at him. And now, not just smiling, but coming over.
Holy shit! He forgot about his right foot and the hot knives that were currently drilling their way into it due to the tiny boot it was still crammed into. Jaina Proudmoor held out her hand and said, “That’s an awesome Eren Jaeger! I’m—”
“Jaina Proudmoore!” he blurted. “I know! Your costume’s incredible!”
She laughed, “I was going to say, ‘I’m Sarah,’ but yeah, I’m also Jaina Proudmoore today.”
He felt himself blush, heat suffusing his—
----------------------------------------
Another—thankfully brief—moment of roaring, rainbow insanity. Then another blessed bubble of calm, though the pain wasn’t fading. Griffin shuddered and felt like he was getting sandblasted behind his eyeballs. This has to be one of the worst experiences I’ve ever been through, Griffin thought, and I’ve been eaten and shat out by an enormous cybernetic centipede. That was his last conscious thought as his vision started to contract and the pain radiated from behind his eyes to his—
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
----------------------------------------
—entire body as she absorbed the ethershard of shadows she’d harvested from the Shade Wraith Boss. It hadn’t been worth the price. Nothing was worth that. But if she could profit at all by their… well, they weren’t dead. It would almost be better if they were.
The heat intensified, obliterating her thoughts, and this time, she was grateful for the pain since it at least was hot where she’d been so cold since she’d gotten back. Like whatever was in those shadow-monsters’ claws had infected her and the only cure was this insane inferno coursing through her veins.
She didn’t lose consciousness, but she also wasn’t sure how long she rode the crest of that wave of pain. Soon, she’d find out what her new graft was: it would be her final one before she went on her Stone Gate Quest. She eagerly brought up her System profile and—
----------------------------------------
The first thing Griffin noticed when he was pulled out of the memory was that it was far more gentle than it had been before. There was no moment of terrifying noise. There wasn’t even any more pain. Her form wavered in front of him like he was seeing her absence through a heat haze. She squeezed his hands and once more, they dove into another memory. Suddenly, he—
----------------------------------------
—felt like he wanted to throw up. How on Earth does the SAML login not work here?! I’ve got the right login URL and I set up the token when I created the user… The certification test was not going well.
Everything was jumbled in his head and he was tired. Probably everything was jumbled in his head because he was tired. You knew you were going to be taking your IMC-SP L3 Cert today and yet you had to extend the D&D session until 3:00 AM.
The party’s victory against all odds—their incredible defeat of his lich antagonist had come at the cost of half of the party’s very souls—wasn’t helping Griffin remember all the varied steps to set up SAML 2.0 login with provisioning to SalesQuest, much less correct all the attribute errors that were bound to get thrown the moment he turned everything on.
He tried to log in to SalesQuest again. Yet another error message telling him to contact his SalesQuest admin for assistance was the only response from the site. And he’d been so sure he’d pass.
Griffin rubbed his eyes, feeling the heat of shame rise in his armpits and his neck. He felt himself start sweating and shivering at the same time. I hate this, he thought.
He straightened and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He did that two more times, feeling some of the tension leave his back. You can do this. He thought of Sarah—they were going on a haunted pub crawl through Boston after work today—she’d kissed him that morning and told him that she knew he could pass. Can’t let Sarah down. He opened his eyes and—
----------------------------------------
This time, there was no interstitial space, no noise, no peace. Griffin slowly realized he felt like he was kneeling in a disgusting, slime-encrusted tunnel, holding hands with a woman with three eyes. He opened his own eyes and let go of Jessaline’s hands—she wouldn’t let one of his hands go, no matter what he tried.
He realized he could suddenly remember her name again as he rubbed his temple with his free hand. Jessaline clapped him on the shoulder and he nearly tumbled over at her unexpected strength.
“Sorry about the crosstalk,” she said consolingly, helping him get to his feet, “it won’t be nearly so bad in the future. But we’ve gotta go now.”
“That was nowhere near like The Dark Crystal promised,” Griffin muttered. He caught sight of Kismet who was flying a slow perimeter around them, glittering wings flashing in the darkness.
Something’s been bothering me, he thought. He looked over at Kismet, then back at Jessaline, and said, “Can you see her?”
“Your weird little homunculus eidolon?” Jessaline asked archly, “The one with the sparkly wings that looks exactly like Sarah?”
Griffin gaped, “How do you kn—” he cut himself off, realizing his mistake just in time for him to see Jessaline’s ironic smile as she tapped his forehead with her index finger.
“I noticed her… it’s just a little rude to talk about someone’s System interface unless the topic has already come up in conversation. Come on,” she said, tugging him by his hand back along the tunnel, “we’re almost there.”
“Oh good,” Griffin said. He frowned, “Almost where?”
“In the Mother’s nest.”
Griffin’s face paled and he stopped, “We’re going to the Mother’s nest?! I thought we were getting out of here!”
“We are,” Jessaline said, “but we’ve got to help my team first. I’ve been incommunicado with them because of the Web of Shadows I’ve had to keep up, but I can read their psychic distress—they need me. Which means you’re coming too.”
Griffin swallowed and nodded, “Okay,” he said, “okay.” He swallowed again and felt his hands dry up.
This is a really bad idea, he thought. Then again, this is what Kismet’s been preparing me for.
“Okay,” he said, one final time, even though it didn’t seem to help.
Jessaline didn’t wait for him to work up his courage anymore. She just tugged him on, increasing their pace until they were sprinting. Griffin kept expecting to trip or tumble or fall, but he never did. He easily perceived any obstacle in front of him due to his Sensor Suite interacting with his HUD, and with his recently absorbed grafts and unlocked Attributes, he was stronger and faster than a pro athlete. He only hoped it would be enough.