Pilot, compose yourself.

All I wanted to do was scream, I was still adjusting to the fact that my father was dead. A man I partially felt like I hardly knew, but my heart ached for. Unaddressed emotions boiled over into a blind rage, I could feel my thoughts becoming irrational and destructive. I tried to breathe but the gun pointed crudely at my face was making it hard to relax or even think straight. My chest was heaving rapidly and I could feel the burn in my right palm, the familiar flame summoning absentmindedly.

Kill them all.

A voice that sounded vaguely like my own whispered from what seemed like miles away, her words were followed by a sneaky and malevolent laugh.

Watch them all BURN!

She laughed maniacally and it echoed throughout my skull with the acoustics of an abandoned concert hall.

Pilot you MUST gain control.

There was something in Omni’s voice, something that sounded like worry, another one of her characteristics that were particularly out of the ordinary for an artificial intelligence.

BURN THEM!

I want to hear them scream!

Burn them ALL!

The voices filled my head until I couldn’t hear my own thoughts anymore, I shook it violently trying to clear it as if it were an Etch a Sketch. I know I probably looked like I was insane but I needed to clear my head to calm down and they were making it impossible.

Pilot!

“Get that fucking gun out of my face!” I scream sending the man in front of me flying into crowd of men behind him. While a few of the guards get him to his feet quickly, the rest pointed their guns in my direction with new purpose. “You have no fucking right to point that gun in my face,” I could hear her in my voice. She was hiding beneath my own, whoever she was, she was far too aggressive to be let out on her own. But I could feel her, clawing her way to the surface, she was in my throat and finding her way into my words.

“You’re a fucking witch!” the man pointed his gun in my face. Which was, the logical thing to do to the angry powerful being in front of you.

Something had come over me, it’s like something had snapped or shifted. It was difficult to explain... I was still me but I had become sort of a passenger in my own body or more like a puppet, and this voice was the one in control. But there was no fight in me, no contest, it was like I welcomed her.

Like an old friend.

“You’re smarter than you look,” I taunt. Walking towards him slowly I am surprisingly unphased by the guns pointed at me, infused with a renewed sense of confidence and power. I grip the gun in his hands and feel it as it turns to liquid, he moves his hands quickly away as the molten metal burns through his black gloves. I look around at the crowd of terrified people watching me, and Omni’s voice rings in my head.

Novus is watching.

Oh wait, that was actually her.

I inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly as I closed my eyes and did my best to calm myself. I could feel her power and her energy grow dimmer, just enough to get me to think straight. I analyze each and every horrified expression, knowing, that the actions I take here will be remembered.

I took another look at the lion on his chest and rolled my eyes, “Take me to your King.”

Shitty thing about being this powerful, is how hard it is to hold onto your sanity.

That’s human nature I guess, letting power get the best of you.

It seemed arrogant to believe I would be any different.

Every five years there were games held that tested your abilities as a player, in every way imaginable. There were no restrictions for entry, besides age, it didn’t matter who you were or where you came from. I searched for inspiration throughout history, mostly ancient, to construct the perfect test that would quickly weed out the weak links. Setting a stage for players who were worthy not just in physical strength but emotional as well. Those with weak hearts or weak minds, were not fit to rule the heart of Novus. Assuming you were victorious, the glass city of Nesicus, would be yours for half of a decade. Perched on your golden throne you would delegate, or try to, and keep the great city of Nescius running efficiently.

There was a council, positions that were elected not awarded, who had the power to overrule you if you decided to go off the deep end. They even possessed the ability to dethrone you all together, because of that thing I was saying about power getting the best of you. Some people aren’t strong enough for it, and unfortunately, that doesn’t always show immediately.

But it seemed as if human nature, as I liked to call the most disgusting habits of us creatures, has outgrown my traditions and rules in a mere century. All of the work my father and I had put in to keep this game fair, had almost completely been forgotten. I winced at the thought of what the games might have been reduced to, if they even still existed anymore.

I tried it myself a few times, not for the crown, but for the challenge and it proved to be exactly that.

As the stomach-turning odor of the Nescien underground assaulted my nose I was brought back to the ghettos of the last days of earth. The rich were always getting richer, and the poor would almost always stay poor. A system designed to keep those who are down, on the ground, and at the same time present every opportunity to move above your station to those who didn’t need the assistance. Being born into world that is designed to work against you is heartbreaking, and it became more sever with each passing year. When the idea of this world became a reality, the only one some people now know, I did what I could to stop that from happening again. Equal opportunity had become a myth on the surface, so it was something I had fought to bring into this world.

But if you leave humanity to their own device's history is always unfortunately doomed to repeat itself.

What did I do? What did I let happen?

Pilot may I remind you of something you used to say?

Sure Omni.

Everything happens for a reason.

I smile to myself for the briefest of moments, unaware of what I would do without her sweet robotic voice in my head.

Thank you Omni.

We passed endless starving faces, all of which were watching my every move, their heads turning as we made our way down what used to be a road. Some of them looked terrified, but more of them looked curious or what might even be hopeful. The buildings were decaying from lack of maintenance, littered with the lowest of Nescien society. Long lines of chained civilians being led into massive elevators as they are taken to trial in the big white city above. The city of glass, which ironically, was always throwing stones at those below or you know... anywhere.

There was a faint sound in the distance, a small and pathetic whimper, so tiny and soul shattering that it couldn’t be ignored. I surveyed the crowd of greys and lifelessness, and then I spotted her, a tiny little girl with dirty yet vibrant pink hair on her head. She was weeping over what I assumed was the corpse of a women, unfortunately it was probably her mother. My calm demeanor was overcome with anger for a small amount of time as I began to wonder why she was dead in the first place. I stopped in my tracks, unable to move another step away from her. I’m not sure what my plan was at this point, but how could I just walk away from her? What kind of person could?

“We have to keep moving,” the man says in front of me answering my internal question. His voice is assertive, yet obedient, obviously kept in fear after my display of power earlier.

I don’t even acknowledge him with a sideways glance, my eyes stay locked on the little girl.

The road is dangerous. It is not fit for a child Pilot.

I can’t just leave her.

Pilot it is impractical to try and save everyone.

Isn’t that why you brought me back?

I take Omni’s silence as a sign of defeat and I approach the little girl slowly, trying to avoid startling her. I observed my surroundings briefly, realizing that everyone around her is weak or nearly dead themselves. The loss of her mother has gone unnoticed as they all have their own problems to deal with. Her tears have become deeper and she’s nearly hyperventilating, her body is thrown across the women's corpse lazily as it shakes from her sobbing. I don’t know what it was, maybe it was the sympathy from recently feeling the death of my father all over again. But I had to go to her, I had to help her in some way, I couldn’t just leave her here.

Kenai flutters over to catch up to me, “Be careful. This is where people go to die.”

My only response is a look that asks for more information.

“The living conditions are so bad... it’s like a breeding ground for illness,” Kenai looks around with a grimace on his face. “Most of the people here won’t survive longer than a few days... or hours.”

“What?” my eyes widen as his words register. “They’re just dying? What about the healing potions? Are there no healers? Or alchemists? A fucking medic”

Kenai gives me a weird look, “What?”

Ozzy chimes in a few feet away from us, “Healing potions are only for those of a higher class.” He looks up at the city overhead, “As far as healers go... they keep them up there.” He scoffs as he eyes fall to the guards around him, “The poor should be left to die.” He grits his teeth as he finishes his sentence, a hatred burning in his dark green eyes.

The crowd of sick and dying around us stirs as Ozzy’s words momentarily fuel their hatred. Considering they were surrounded by armored men in white, pointing guns in their faces, their anger had to be on the verge of explosion already.

“I said we need to keep moving,” the obnoxious guard surprisingly continues to speak.

“As if you have any control over this situation,” Arachne rolls her eyes.

“How about you shut the fuck up fucking bug,” another guard taps her head with the tip of his gun.

“Hey!” my voice booms over the crowd and causes it to go silent. I even noticed the girl's tears silencing for the first time, suddenly feeling her tiny gaze on me. “I’ve had quite enough of people being treated like fucking garbage.”

He rolls his eyes and laughs, “That’s hardly a person-”

“We are all people!” I say with conviction, and watch his face fall in response as he lowers his weapon. “Don’t you fucking forget that!” I stare at him for a long time, but he makes no effort to meet my gaze.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

We were all people, it didn’t matter what kind of shell any of us were wearing, we were all human. Just sacks of fucking meat, sleeping in a jelly filled pod. Not one person was better than the other.

My head turns back to the girl to find her staring up at me, her eyes are glassy and the clearest blue I have ever seen. The red rims around them lead me to believe she’s been crying for hours, and for the first time I notice the smell coming from her mother. Her porcelain skin is covered in dirt and her cotton candy hair is tangled and unkempt. Even covered in filth, and surrounded by death she was breathtaking. She isn’t saying a word, she is just staring, her big eyes watching me in wonder.

“Aww she’s so cute,” Kenai says by my ear. He lowers his voice, “she kinda smells though”.

A tiny smile plays at the corner of her mouth as she notices Kenai floating by my shoulder. For a few seconds she forgets about the pain and a childlike curiosity shines through her beautiful eyes.

“Are you okay?” I ask and immediately feel stupid.

No, she isn’t fucking okay!

She doesn’t say anything, she just shakes her head back and forth hesitantly.

“Do you...?” I pause to take another look at her and it gets worse every time. “Is there anyone else you can go to?”

She nods again, bringing up one dirty little hand to wipe away her tears.

“Is this... your mother?”

Her face scrunches up and I watch as she starts to cry all over again.

WOW good job!

Well done Pilot.

Shut up Omni!

“Three days ago,” a tired voice says a few feet away. I turn to see an older woman, her skin is mostly red, and her hair is mass of untamed feathers. Her mouth had been replaced by a black beak and her eyes are a vibrant orange-yellow. “Her father died a year ago,” she continues as she goes into a fit of coughing. She gestures a stiff and tired hand for me to come over to her.

I take another look at the little girl, who is just now coming down from another episode of hysterics, and head towards the old women. She lowers her voice, “She was a sex worker. Caught something nasty from one of her clients.”

My face twisted and disgust, and I shook my head violently. This place was making my stomach turn.

What the fuck was happening?

Omni when I created this game did I create what is killing these people?

No Pilot.

Than how are they sick? Did somebody make this?

After analyzing the situation, it is the only logical explanation. Perhaps a virus.

Somebody is killing these people? And where are they restarting Omni? Here? The welcome center was a ghost town.

Pilot unfortunately, when you went into hibernation, so did I. We have not been here for over one hundred years. It would seem that much has changed.

I felt my own disdain for my irrational emotional behavior growing deeper and deeper.

I abandoned everyone.

Because I couldn’t fucking cope.

I’m a fucking coward.

Pilot. What is important, is that you are here.

The women in front of me gave me a weird look, as I stared at her, lost within my internal conversation. Feeling a little awkward I turned away from her and headed over towards the little girl again.

Confidently I began to speak, “I think you should come with me.”

She raises an eyebrow at me, but then turns to look at her mother again.

“What?” I hear Arachne say in the distance. “Do you understand how impractical it is to have a child in Novus? You cannot be serious?” There is an inflection on that sentence that made it sound more like whining than anything else, she had a talent for that.

I turn to look at them, Ozzy looks at Arachne and then reluctantly nods in agreement.

“We can’t just leave her!” Kenai defends. I look towards him, and we smile at one another, solidifying my probably stupid decision. A stupid idea doesn’t need many followers to catch wind, I’ve noticed.

“Really?” Ozzy’s voice is higher than usual. I can still hear him questioning my sanity underneath each syllable.

I turn back to look at the little girl, but her eyes are on her mother. My heart breaks over the look on her tiny face, because I was hurting too, but that pain was so much deeper in something so innocent. I try to think of something that might ease her pain, but nothing comes to mind. After a minute or so, I offer a hand to the little girl, which she accepts after some hesitation. I smile down at her and without another thought, I snap my fingers and her mother is engulfed in green flames. I watch as she quickly begins to panic, her chest heaving as she watches her mother burning to dust. She looks up at me, her eyes pleading to stop what is happening. The people around begin to move away from the flames, in fear that the fire might spread (which I probably should have thought about). But eventually the blaze grew dimmer, until it was only embers, and then it was only ash. The pieces of ash swarmed together, and began to join into a silver necklace with a pendant dangling from its center. I crouched down and picked up the necklace, wiping it against myself to clean it off; it was a locket in the shape of a moon. I opened it up to see the picture inside, and my heart nearly stopped. She had flowing pink hair and eyes as blue as the Caribbean Sea, the spitting image of the little girl standing beside me. She was now staring at me with her mouth hanging open, her eyes swimming with amazement. I let her hand go and carefully clasp the necklace around her delicate neck, moving away to let her look at it when I finish.

She takes the silver moon in her hands and looks inside, I watch as her eyes light up and a single tear rolls down her cheek. She looks at it for a while before she throws her arms around me and hugs me tightly. Unfortunately this precious moment was sullied by the horrible smell coming from her. I try not to breath as I return her embrace, and then get myself back to a standing position. Smiling down at her, I offer a hand to her, and she investigates it before offering me her own. I walk towards my friends with a confident grin on my face, but they only give disapproving glares in response.

Oh yeah, this was definitely a mistake.

“It smells,” Arachne said in my ear. “Like really bad.”

“It is a she. And I am aware.”

After a long, awkwardly quiet elevator ride, we were crossing an overly extravagant marble white bridge. The entire thing was encased in glass, and there were two tall golden doors waiting for us at the other end. There was, yet another, lion head directly in the center of the doors and it was split in half as they began to open. At the end of a long red carpet, lined with rows of guards, was a small set of steps with a story engraved in each on. A man with a lion's head, triumphantly overcoming everything in his path, as a king usually does. And at the top of the steps sat three golden thrones, with cushy red seats, the throne in the center being even more excessive than the other two. Perched in the seat on the left, was a tired looking lioness, with an engorged belly, her expression was uninterested as she rested her face on her palm. On the right was a beautiful, enchanting looking women, everything about her was willing me to move towards her... it was almost hard to control myself. Her hair was long and blonde, it fell between her breasts that were on display due to her plunging neck line. She catches me looking at her and grins at me, before biting her lip and winking.

Whoa.

I clear my throat and look towards the throne directly in front of me. And there he is, in all his glory, the Lion King in the flesh. If his name was Mufasa I was going to burst out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

Or maybe Scar would be more appropriate?

We reach a few feet in front of the staircase and the soldiers around me stomp in unison. Two horns sound on each side of the throne, and a small plump man begins to speak noticeably projecting his voice. “You are now in the presence of King Anhur first of his name!”

Anhur? Like the god? How egotistical.

“Welcome!” he stands up from his throne and extends his arms in either direction. He begins to descend the few stairs to get a better look at me, looking around for the moon tattooed on my neck. He finds it, and a devilish glint flashed in his green eyes. He sniffs around and searches for the source of the stench, his eyes falling on the little girl he gives her a forced smile. “Oh my,” he laughs. “That is QUITE the aroma,” the guards join him in a laugh.

I look down to see her face which is burning a bright red as she begins to hide behind my legs. “A King who mocks children,” I say quickly.

He narrows his eyes at my insult and when I return his gaze he seems surprised, but he doesn’t say another word. “Surely, my servants could clean the child and give her some new clothes?”

I look down at her again, “Would you like that?”

She doesn’t say anything, but there is a hint of fear in her eyes.

The lioness gets up from her seat and speaks for the first time, “Come now little one. We will get you cleaned up.” She walks over to us and offers her a warm smile and one furry hand.

“My love you should rest,” Anhur says to her lowly.

“I will be fine,” she responds firmly. “My love,” she says the words almost as if she spit them.

He looks a little defeated but backs down, “Very well.”

I release the little girl's hand, “It’s alright.”

She looks up at me then over at the lioness hesitantly, eventually she smiles and offers her a hand.

“Well aren’t you just beautiful,” she grins at her and grabs her chin. “Let’s get you a warm meal and some fresh clothes.”

The little girl beams up at her, probably unaware of the last time she’s had an actual meal. The lioness turns and begins to waddle towards the door that leads into the castle, her maids following closely behind her. Her big blue takes on last look in my direction before she disappears behind the doors. They is a tinge of worry inside of me, but the lioness seemed like she could be trusted.

“Now,” Anhur begins again. “Tell me how you got your hands on a witch avatar?”

I look around at everyone for a moment, I can see the curiosity burning in the eyes beneath the helmets of the guards. I am have choice, I could lie, or I could make presence known and put a target on my head. Well... another target.

I speak without thinking, “Because I’m the founder.”

There was a gasp among the crowd, the blonde women still perched on her thrown suddenly began to give the conversation some attention. Anhur face went from shocked to anger in few seconds and his eyes narrowed at me. “And why are we supposed to believe you?”

I smile to myself, “How long have you been in your station?”

“Excuse me?” he scoffs.

“How long have you been king?” I say bluntly.

“I uh...”

I cross my arms and glare at him impatiently.

“Ten years,” he says quietly.

“Well... it would seem it may be time for a new monarch,” I say as look at the guards. I watch as there postures relax and they all begin to whisper among one another.

“You think you can just come in here and take me off of my throne?” he laughs. ”You are out of your mind. You could be some imposter!”

“How would I have gotten my hands on a witch avatar if I were and imposter?” I close the distance between us with a few steps.

He looks me up and down, ”What kind of founder disappears for a century?”

His words wound me, but I don’t let it show in my expression or on my face. Feeling slightly insulted I open my mouth but stop the venom from flying out. I inhale deeply, “The kind that is going to fix the mess you have made of my city.”

He stares at me for a long while, formulating some response to undermine me in his head. “How do you expect to replace me?” He looks around at his guard confidently, obviously sure he has stumped me.

I put my hand on my hips, “with the return of the games.”

I hear a squeal come from Arachne, “Yes! I’ve never seen them! I’ve only heard stories!”

“Those games were barbaric!” he clenched his fists in outrage.

I moved inches away from his face as a spoke through my teeth, “What has happened to this city is barbaric. The fact that people are starving and dying in your streets is barbaric. Do not begin to tell me what you think is barbaric!”

I watched him shrink in front of me, shame coming off of him in waves. He looked as if he wanted to say something but his mouth didn’t move.

“You will summon the council and we will begin preparation for the games...” I trail off when an awkward silence falls over the crowd. “There is... a council?”

Anhur looked at me in his face twisted in a defiant anger, “Guards! Take our guest and her friend into the dungeon!”

“Is this the approach you are choosing to take Anhur?” I ask him. My friend returning to my voice, and filling my head with her destructive thoughts. An image of the men around having the life force drained from them seemed so appetizing. I watched as the pointed guns began to waiver, and a few of the guards begin to take steps back. “Choose wisely,” I smile.

I can see my reflection in his glassy eyes, the color bleeding from them as they begin to glow a hot white. “This is why we banned! You will cause nothing but destruction!”

“And what have you caused Anhur? What have you done to my city?” I snap back at him. “Now you can go quietly... or you can make this more difficult than it needs to be. I am not here to argue with you or have a debate. I am taking back Novus. Now you can fall in line or you can-” I cut myself off because I knew what I was going to say, and they weren’t my words.

He looked at the throne behind him, and what was presumably his mistress who was now making her way down from her perch. For the first time she speaks, “Now now my king. Surely these games will be no problem for you.” Her voice is alluring and calming, almost like a siren song. She places a delicate and manicured hand on his shoulder, “after all. Who are we to change the traditions of Novus? It was... inexcusable for us to abandon these practices. And we offer the sincerest of apologies... our dear founder.”

I raise a suspicious eyebrow at this woman, something about her aura didn’t seem to match the words she was saying. I knew I couldn’t trust her.

Anhur takes her hand in his and kisses it lovingly, he drops it ever so carefully and then reluctantly looks towards me. “I will allow it. Under on condition.”

“I am not here to negotiate-”

“But are you prepared to deal with the outrage that will come with the lack of support from the people’s beloved king?” he beamed at me smugly.

“Beloved?” I question.

He scoffs before he continues, “My condition is that you allow me to compete. Allow me to prove that I belong on this throne.” He turns to give it another look, I can only see part of his face but the sadness is evident.

He was right, who was I to barge in here and turn his entire world upside down. But I was finding it hard to believe a man who would allow people to starve and die in the streets below him, was fit to be a king.

Pilot, he has high Nescien society to on his side. Without their support there may be a revolution.

But how can I let this man be a King?

May I remind you, that he has only been on the throne for ten years. Which means there are previous monarchs who should also take blame.

Damn it! Why was she always right?

It is what I’m here for Pilot.

I look at the king and his mistress, and all the guards who are listening intently around us. What harm could be done? If he was not fit to be king he wouldn’t pass my test, or at least that is what I was hoping.

“Alright,” I offer Anhur a hand. For a moment his ego looks as if he might not accept, but he does and shakes in firmly. “Let the games begin.”