One could barely guess that the Simmenti share the same love of Amma as we do here in Lapris. They twist her teaching in incongruous ways and theory culture seeps with absurdity. They expose Brotherly virtue to the obscene and teach their daughter’s impious ways. I would not fault a man for mistaking than as demons; they are nearly as strange. But I entreat upon you that you might look past their strangeness for the sake of the eternal plight—they make good infantry

—First Son, Yesrale Hampton II

The room was beautifully silent, save for the quiet hiss of the bath bomb as it fizzed and propelled its self around the tub. The prominent sensation was that of the floating in warmth and the aroma of good tea. Absolutely heavenly, thought Aiden. This bath in his virtual suite had become a refuge of sorts in the last few weeks of gruelling training. His simple bath on earth had been the same, though nowhere near as palatial as his new virtual paradise.

Silly that he would seek refuge from a game, but then, seeking refuge was a familiar response. That this refuge happened to be soaking in a bath for far too long also wasn’t anything new. Old habits died hard.

The fizzing became a string of tapping and Aiden nudged the shrinking sphere of salts, oils and scents away from the tub wall, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to sink into the water down past his ears. The sounds were different down there; like they belonged to a different world. A world in which he was entirely alone and safe and content. A world devoid of thought, concerns and worries.

Technically, he was in a new world now, having left earth, and he had left behind many of his terrestrial concerns when he left that rock. Just not as many as he’d have liked. He was still the same old Aiden after all.

Time passed and the water cooled from just bearably hot to only possibly warm; it was time to get out—time to return to ‘reality’. Ha! The paradox was a virtual life. Aiden didn’t think he would get tired of it any time soon. He would keep making bad jokes about it even after arriving at their destination so long as no one killed him over it. He cringed; the number of people who snapped at him for making a pun was not small.

Aiden shivered as he exited today’s tub selection—a freestanding tub with golden claws—and quickly summon bath towel of the fluffiest kind; heated for maximum comfort. Once dry he pulled on his current favourite bathrobe and strode back into his main suite.

Maybe it wasn’t all that odd that he felt the need to escape reality when in a game, the game was way more realistic than the frankly absurd luxury he enjoyed while in his rooms. Luxury that was far beyond his reach even as the son of the Northwest American Chancellor. He wished he’d seen the look on her face when she read the note he’d left her; it might have actually contained a hint of real emotion!

“Unlikely,” Aiden sighed.

He flopped onto the default four-poster that he decided was actually quite nice and snuggled into the silk sheets. There he lay unmoving his eye’s closed and waiting for sleep to come. It would come easy, he hadn’t had a poor night's sleep since arriving on the Abeona—it wouldn’t let him—but his mind was turning and the phantom aches and pains of the military training ate at his limbs. It wasn’t real, and while the game simulated reality the pain of exercising wasn’t nearly what it should have been. He would wake bright-eyed an energetic and remain so upon returning to the game.

So why did he feel so exhausted? Why was he subjecting himself to this?

Aiden asked the same questions every night. He knew the answers to his questions every night. And every night an unseen timer built into one of many strings of code counted down and gently persuaded his mind to sleep.

The optimum number of REM cycles passed, and the arbitrary morning arrived. Simulated sunshine landed on Aiden’s eyelids and drew him from regretfully dream-filled sleep. The room was silent. Bird song wasn’t really his thing. No, the silence suited him better; it was familiar. As were the empty halls and the home far too big for just one person.

A home that wasn’t really a home but more a place to sleep and recover. Aiden did not live there. He lived in VOS and it was time to return.

“System initiate program: Vos Kingdoms,” Aiden called out.

Confirmation: Enter Vos Kingdoms?

“Yes”

A heartbeat passed, then a second, and Aiden was lying on his bunk in the barracks, his in-game timer counting 5 minutes and 43 seconds till the wake-up call. He was already dressed since there was no reason to change, and his bed was still made since he never actually slept in it. Morning rollcall was far easier for those who didn’t actually sleep in the barracks and instead used them to store the empty husks of their avatars. That the NPC soldiers gave the players funny looks was more of a bonus, really.

He was up 5 minutes early. Damn, that meant 5 minutes to just lie there and do nothing. He thought he had timed this whole thing better. Stupid biological brain.

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Having had enough of lying around doing nothing, Aiden tiptoed out of his bed and began acting through a series of stretches. He not only touched his toes but nearly managed to fold himself in half—a feat his stiff real body would have never dreamed of attempting—and after counting 20 heartbeats of blood rushing through his head, Aiden pulled up and stretched out his back, arms, and neck.

Still 2 minutes remaining Aiden began the stretches he would never attempt even virtually if kicks didn’t look so damn cool. He was going to try and do the mother fucking splits. Yah, that’s right, virtual Aiden was a badass.

Rollcall arrived and in the time that NPCs rushed out of bed, made their beds, and made up themselves (and Arthur casually walked to his place in line), Aiden hobbled over his spot, barely managing to stand up straight. Maybe he’d been a little over-enthusiastic in that last attempt… but it was worth it.

Skill Increase!

Flexibility +1

Skill Milestone reached!

Walking: lv 15

Minor skill perk: stretching before exercise will reduce fatigue and muscle pain

Sure, he was still a bit sore from his ill-fated leg maneuver, but it would make the gauntlet he was about to run a hell of a lot more baerable. More importantly, Morrigan was still stuck at lv 13 and they’d made a bet on how would reach the milestone first—oh, how he looked forward to rubbing it in her face.

Aiden looked to the recently appointed lieutenant standing at the end of the line, closest to the door, anxious to get going so that he could meet Morrigan at the mess hall. Normally the lieutenant would have already called out the beginning of the morning exorcised by then and they would be out the door and running through the maze-like interior of the wall—learning how to get around while levelling up their cardio.

It was an efficient form of training that forced soldiers to either keep up or get lost and then probably miss mealtime because being lost in The Wall was not a minor obstacle. The maze-like interior of the fortification seemed to be very much intentional and as Aiden had found himself stumbling upon many murder wholes after getting left behind on these runs, he could imagine there effectiveness in wiping out intruders.

More time passed as Aiden’s mind wondered his mental map and the solders began shifting about in place and fidgeting having noticed something different from the daily routine.

The Lieutenant cleared his throat and addressed the room, “Calm down little drops, today’s the day you grow into puddles.” He smiled as if that really did explain everything.

The Lieutenant was an odd guy, the word was that he haled from the far eastern desert tribes and was some kind of exiled nobility. What this meant in action was that the bronze faced pretty boy just sort of showed up one day while Aiden and the rest of the “freshies” were running their paces and automatically became their squad leader. Obviously, this resulted in a lot of grumbling, name-calling, and idiotic snickers.

A large man, even by the standards of modern Earth, was made into quite the example.

He’d approached the slight lieutenant, who could not have been much more than 165cm tall, and towered over him by head and shudders—a pale giant looming over a bronze dwarf.

The Lieutenant was unfazed, he simply raised his malachite gaze and offered a faint smile. The giant didn’t notice the glint in the Semmenti’s eye, not many did, but they would all soon learn to recognize it.

“What can I do for you?” he asked gently.

The Large man threw his head back and belted out a laugh resembling a roar. “What can I do for you? That is our line. What the fuck can a mousy ‘brafta’ do for us? How in the Abys did a thing like you get here?” He sneered.

“How indeed? the lieutenant lightly laughed. “Well, that isn’t really your concern now is it?” The lieutenant’s smile dropped, and he became like stone; his medusoid eyes passed over the gawking men and froze them in place.

Aiden shivered; he’d seen eyes like those too many times not to fear them.

“I know what it is I can do for you,” the lieutenant addressed the giant, “Why you appear to be lacking a great deal of discipline.”

The giant man didn’t even get a word in reply before the Lieutenant’s heel whipped around and slammed into his jaw. There was shock in his baby blue eyes, and then his face was planted in the dirt, a boot holding him in place. The rush of violence began and ended so abruptly that not even a cry of alarm could begin before shocked silence took over the incongruous scene.

Aiden saw David standing over Goliath and felt real fear freezing him in place. David smiled good-naturedly and a weight lifted from Aiden’s chest—he could breathe again. The lieutenant helped the large man to his feet patting his back and joking, while the man in question looked as though he was still not sure what had happened.

“Enough of the unpleasantness, today we need not level up ‘Damage Tolerance,’ I hear you still need to catch up on the basic endurance skill set.” The Lieutenant brushed himself off and stood proudly before ‘his’ men and offered a bright smile that stood in stark contrast to his dark curling hair. “I am Lieutenant Bz'Atran of Kihtz and I hail from Simmenti as you all have of doubt presumed. I look forward to whipping you into shape.”

He did not lie. The lieutenant with a barely pronounceable name took great joy in leading Aiden, Arthur, and the NPCs through exhaustion and pain. All told their squad levelled their skills more in the past week under Bz'Atran than in the two weeks that preceded it.

The assurances of Lieutenant Bz'Atran that they were to grow and become ‘puddles’ was in no way reassuring—more like horrifying.

There was a knock on the door and a woman entered. Aiden spotted Morrigan in the hall behind her and nodded to her. She snuck a wave and a rude gesture. Standing at attention wasn’t so bad, but he really did want to flip her off in turn. His smile became a frown and Morrigan laughed silently, out of reach.

Morrigan was here, so it seemed that whatever was happening would be done in conjunction with the woman’s training squad. They were kept separately at almost all times, just what could be planed for them to be doing something together?

“Perk up drops!” Bz'Atran grinned, “We’re off to fight a demon.”