"There is evil within all of us, within God Monsters, dragons and humans alike. I do not claim myself as a perfect being in a flawed world with such imbalance." -Plesios
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Vesta Cave
Pirugan Continent
30 minutes before launch of PADW
Pandora woke to the gentle stream of running water. A cool breeze brushed the hair from her heavy eyes as she attempted to focus on her surroundings. Her eyes adapted to the light and revealed a mixture of colors: green, yellow, red, brown, a muddle of different hues and blurry shapes. Her head lolled back and forth against her meager will. She was conscious of being above ground as her body bumped up and down with arms dangling and drained.
She reasoned that she was being carried, and when her vision sharpened she made out a canopy of leaves and branches above her.
A forest.
Lifting her head brought forth a dizzy spell, and she allowed her head to fall once again. Her cheek rested against a cool metal surface as her bearer continued up the winding dirt path.
After a few more minutes they came to a halt. Pandora heard familiar voices.
“This is the place, Verche,” the soft female voice said.
Pandora felt herself slide off the shoulder of the knight and she was rested gently on the ground. She looked up at a face concealed by a white helm. A wing jutted out each side of the helmet and a thin V-shaped area was left open for the eyes. All she saw through the visor was darkness.
The knight wore a full set of elaborate white and golden body armor. A small shield was attached to one arm and a massive broadsword slung across his back. His angelic wings were currently retracted.
The knight, Verche, motioned for the unseen individual's attention and Pandora saw Metatron's worried face come into focus. She reached into a satchel and produced a small bottle of some unknown liquid.
Another man stood behind her wearing crimson armor and a long matching cape with gold trimming. He let down his hood to reveal a stern middle-aged face with spiked brown hair. He ran a hand over his stubble of a beard as if he were contemplating something.
She'd never conversed with him, but she knew him well enough as a God Monster with considerable repute. The great General Cao Cao.
Metatron settled the bottle over Pandora's lips and she could feel a cool sensation crawl through her veins. A strange, lukewarm feeling took over and she felt the dullness that had overcome her senses wash away. She was far from recovered, but the strange potion infused her with enough strength to stand. Pandora took a hesitant, strained step forward with knees threatening to buckle. One of her legs gave out, but Verche remained at her side and rested a hand under her arm. She gratefully nodded to the knight and examined her surroundings.
Her suspicions were confirmed. They were in a forest, and off to the side she observed a tall cliff face that she assumed was a part of the Sacred Mt. Bakkes. The gaping mouth of a cave greeted the group.
Cao Cao set a chest at her feet. Pandora recognized it as her box.
“Wait here,” he said. “I will scout ahead.”
“Thank you.” Metatron said.
Cao Cao descended into the cave and disappeared.
She turned back to Pandora. “How are you?”
Pandora shook her head to clear the rest of the fuzziness from her vision. “Well enough. I think I can walk at least.”
“I'm glad to hear it. We haven't much time.”
The two females watched as Verche approached the mouth of the cave. He extended his wings and flew up to a ledge so he could get a better view of the surrounding area. As he scanned the vastness of the forest, his gaze locked somewhere in the distance. His helmet didn't move for several minutes. He then flew down and appraised their situation.
Cao Cao exited the cave as he landed.
“We have been discovered,” Verche reported.
Metatron shook her head. “How? That's impossible! Athena and Odin should be holding their attention.”
“Apparently, our ruse was only partially successful.” Cao Cao scoffed and unsheathed his short sword.
Verche stepped in front of his comrades. He drew his broadsword and made a few adjustments to his shield to ready himself for combat.
“You'd best get moving,” he suggested. “I will buy you time.”
Pandora was about to protest when a dizzy spell fell over her. She braced an arm against a tree as Metratron moved to assist her.
“Like hell. V-Verche, no,” she sputtered.
She knew her safety was far from guaranteed if they entered a full engagement with the enemy. They didn't know the strength of those that pursued them. She held no doubts concerning Verche's abilities, but to leave him behind...
Metatron lifted the box. “Verche, but-”
“Let the men do what needs doing.” Cao Cao interrupted her with gruff finality as he stepped next to the knight.
Metatron's mouth tightened into a thin line. She gave them a stiff nod.
Pandora wasn't so easily convinced. She held fast to the tree. Even with her lack of energy she was immovable as a statue.
Verche approached and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Pandora released her grip on the tree and wrapped her arms around Verche instead.
“We do what we must,” he said. Not a tinge of nerves was discernible in his voice. “Stay hidden and wait for the others.”
Pandora held the hug and only let go when Verche pushed her away gently. She reluctantly stumbled back to Metatron. The two females spared one last look behind them before disappearing into the cave.
Verche halted Cao Cao with his extended blade. The crimson general narrowed his eyes.
“The Valkyries,” Verche stated simply.
Cao Cao grunted. “If you think I'm leaving you to get slaughtered-”
“The Valkyries need Metatron's message. That is the task you were given,” he interrupted with an even tone.
Cao Cao clenched his fists, not just because of the situation, but because he knew that Verche was right. Everyone had their own duties to fulfill. Verche accepted his, so the least Cao Cao could do was uphold his end.
“I should technically be your superior,” Cao Cao growled, attempting to mask his concern.“Where do you get off talking to me like that?”
With that last remark, he extended his hand and his expression softened. Verche drove his sword into the ground and took Cao Cao's hand in a firm handshake.
The general clapped a hand on his shoulder and made his way through the forest in the opposite direction.
A terrifying, guttural scream erupted from behind Verche. An ominous silence followed. The approaching monsters were out for blood. The animals all fled and even the wind retreated. The only sounds that reached Verche's ears were the running water of the stream and his own even breath.
Verche drew his sword from the dirt.
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Seattle, Washington
United States
30 minutes before launch of PADW
Ray laid back in the padded reclining chair and stared at the ceiling with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.
Wires and flashing lights from many consoles surrounded him. Some trailed along the ceiling and disappeared through holes in the wall, journeying to who knew where. He wondered where those wires would be inserted or how it would feel to enter the virtual world. He hadn't really put much thought into it until now.
The room was set up pleasant enough at least. A couple of cushioned chairs, a wood table and some other furnishings dotted the room. Ray didn't really see the point since he was going to be in the virtual world most of the time, but perhaps it was to put him at ease with a more homely feel. If the room had been painted a plain white with just the wires and gadgets, it would have probably felt like a patient's room in a hospital.
As he mulled over his thoughts, the metal door on the other side of the room opened and a woman entered carrying a small briefcase. She adjusted her spectacles as she approached Ray. He recognized this woman; Emily, the supervisor he'd spoken to when he finished his physical and intrinsic tests.
She walked over to the table, grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it over next to him. Before taking a seat, she looked him over as if he were some rare specimen in a science experiment. Well, the assessment wasn't too far off. The Players were beta testers for the game.
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Emily opened the briefcase and rifled through its contents. Through the whole exchange, neither of them spoke a word. They stayed in a verbal stalemate.
Then an unexpected smile formed on her face. It almost felt encouraging. “So, the time has come. Excited?”
Ray let out a breath of air he'd been holding. “Yeah, but not so sure how I feel about all of, well, this.” He gestured to the wires and flashing computers.
“Don't worry. I'm here to ensure that you have a safe entry. These implants will just be giving the guys upstairs some neural readings to gauge the game's stability. It's already been tested through every conceivable scenario. With all the fail-safes and protocols in place, we have a one hundred percent safety guarantee.”
Ray forced a laugh. “Well, that's reassuring.”
“By the way,” Emily added. “I looked at some other bits of information in your file. Did you start the original game late, or did you just not really have time for it? Your rank was pretty low. Not that it really means anything mind you.”
“Yeah, I started the game pretty late.” He went back to staring at the blank ceiling. “The only thing that worries me a bit is not being taken seriously because of it.”
“Think of it another way. It might actually be easier to stay under the radar. You might surprise people.”
Ray pondered her words. She didn't know him at all. The only things she did know were written on paper. Maybe there was something she read about him in those reports. The possibility gave him some much-needed confidence.
“A word of advice,” Emily said. Her tone took an immediate turn. “The monsters in this world are wiser than you think. Listen to them. They have valuable information and advice.”
Ray eyed her curiously. He already knew that the interactions with the non-playable characters and monsters were supposed to be nothing short of revolutionary, but the way she offered her suggestion remained most prominent.
Emily gave him a friendly, reassuring pat on the shoulder when she saw his serious look. “I'm the type of person who likes to root for the underdog. Also, I may have placed a sizable bet on you. Don't worry, everyone watching has high expectations for all of you. No pressure.”
Ray groaned. “Don't remind me. Was never really good in front of an audience. Wait, there's gambling?”
“Oh yeah, if you're the legal age you can gamble on Players through the app while watching. It's pretty impressive. Also, if you ever want some privacy, here is another little tidbit. Dwellings that you live in, areas called Arbor fountains and some other locations will not have viewers watching you. So there's that.”
With all this information, Ray began to suspect even more that it wasn't just because she saw him as an underdog. No, definitely not. It seemed like she was hiding her true intentions through casual conversation.
Before he had the opportunity to question her further, she tossed him the virtual headgear. He caught it easily, but was still surprised that she decided to throw what was most likely a delicate (and expensive) piece of equipment.
Ray examined the surface of the headgear and ran his fingers over the shallow grooves. It looked like a motorcycle helmet that covered the top half of his head with a visor that laid over the eyes.
Emily attached a flexible metal band to his wrist that acted as his personal database and inserted a few wires into the ports.
“Nice reflexes,” she commented.
After she finished the remaining preparations with the hardware, she approached a console and ran her hand over the holographic screen. She typed in her username and password, entered his intrinsic scan settings and then another few bits of data.
“Alright, put the headgear on,” Emily said.
Ray took a deep breath and placed the helmet on his head.
He stared at Emily, whose skin was now a light blue from the visor's screen. She was looking straight at him and stilled her finger over an unseen switch.
“Is it all good?” Ray asked.
“Yup. I'm going to set the timer for entry. You will enter automatically when it hits twelve o'clock.”
She flipped the switch, closed her briefcase and strode to the door. She spared one last glance back at Ray and exited the room without another word.
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Verche slashed at the nearest taur demon. The creature's dog-like head sliced clean off and its body disappeared in a glittering shower of data particles. The other taur demons were unfazed by the death of their comrade and pushed forward in ever-growing numbers to overwhelm the God Monster. Their hooved feet drove into the ground with swift abandon, and Verche found himself pushed back to the cave's entrance. The line of enemies halted just outside the reach of his broadsword. They mocked him with permanent grins splayed over their faces. The monsters tested Verche with a few quick thrusts of their pikes and tridents.
Normally in this situation, Verche would have taken to the air where he had more freedom of movement. The black devil wings on the taur demons gave them flight, but their maneuvering skills in the air were sub par at best. They were approximately a head shorter than Verche, and their wings were not developed to support their size. But if he did choose to take advantage of the skies, the demons would have no resistance on the ground, leaving them an opening to pursue the true prey: Metatron and Pandora.
Verche spared a look at the sun blazing from above. It shifted hue with the familiar swirling tendrils akin to the glowing moon during The Reversion. The only difference was that this was the sun instead of the moon, and the light beat purple rather than a fluorescent yellow. Even though the time for the Players' arrival was at hand, he knew that his time was up.
“So close,” Verche muttered.
The taur demons noticed the transformation of the sun as well, and realized they had little time to finish off their foe. They all charged in unison, some of them attempting to slip by Verche as others attacked him head on.
The Reversion significantly reduced Verche's power, but he was not without his arsenal. He drove his broadsword into the ground and its insertion bid forth an invisible outward force that pushed the demons back, sending some of them flying into their comrades at the rear and into the surrounding foliage. They recovered themselves whilst maintaining their evil grins.
Verche recited under his breath, “I am Godly Knight of the Sky, Verche. Weapons of the light, of the sun, hear my call.”
As he spoke these words a board full of glowing orbs appeared, shining brilliant before Verche's eyes and standing upright at his height of six feet. The taur demons backed up. Even they couldn't mask their surprise upon seeing the strange orbs.
The board consisted of five rows and six columns like a typical Player board. Players matched same-color orbs in groups of three or more to give power to their monsters, depending upon the orb attributes they matched; however, Verche's differed. Instead of the typical attributes of light, dark, wood, fire, and water, Verche's orbs held symbols of weapons.
He analyzed the board for only a brief moment before placing an armored finger on an orb with the symbol of a scimitar etched into it. He moved it, and the overlapped orbs took the place of the moving orb's previous position.
Upon completion, the spheres exploded and five beams of pale yellow light descended from some unseen points in the sky. Five weapons, one in each pillar, descended and embedded themselves in the ground around Verche, showering all combatants in waves of rock and dirt. The weapons smoked from the heat of descent, but Verche embraced the searing pain as he drew his first weapon from the ground. He approached a second and readied this one as well.
In his hands he held a short halberd and a broadsword even longer than the one previous. Circles with strange runes gyred around the blades.
The taur demons charged, only momentarily deterred by this magnificent display. The leader leaped high over Verche and stabbed out with its pitchfork but was met by the blade of Verche's halberd. The monster impaled itself and struggled to break free despite certain death.
A trio of demons focused on Verche's feet, but he had already extended his wings mid-thrust to push himself back, giving himself room to swing the halberd horizontal. The axe blade of the pole-arm cut through all three demons and they vanished.
Verche was now standing a short ways into the cave and realized that the mouth opened up to a steep descent with obvious paths providing multiple entrances to the tunnels below. The area left no room to maneuver with all the boulders and stalagmites.
He beat his wings furiously and thrust forward, swatting a large group of enemies aside with his wings and weapons in a controlled spiral. Verche found himself just outside the entrance of the cave once more. He lashed out as two demons attempted to leap down upon him from above. His broadsword cut through them like twigs.
As he was occupied with the demons on the ledge, another eager group approached Verche from behind and stabbed up through a crease near the lower back of his armor. Verche groaned as two pikes drove into the left side of his back and one through his wing. A circle of light swirled around his halberd at his command and he launched a beam of energy upon the remaining demons on the ledges. The rock wall exploded in a shower of light. Those that managed to escape Verche's attack were crushed by debris as they fell to the ground. This gave him the opportunity to focus on the monsters still digging their weapons into his blind side. He whirled about and cut through his attackers, severing limbs and damaging morale. The halberd in his hand flickered and vanished.
Verche rushed to one of his other weapons and pulled a double-edged axe from the ground. He adjusted his weight to achieve a new dual wielding stance. The axe was heavier than the halberd, and the weight distributed more towards the head rather than the center.
More taur demons made a break for the cave and Verche batted them aside with his outstretched wings and twirling heavy weapons.
He stood straight and pointed his sword at the screeching monsters. “Give up on it.”
His enemies took the advice. There was no way they were rushing past him until he was subdued. All attempts at distraction were abandoned. Dozens of demons braced themselves and attacked from the front and sides. Verche managed to parry most of the weapons, but a few pierced through and he felt another sharp pain as tridents and pikes drove marginally through his side armor.
A taur demon received a sword to the chest. It vanished, just as the halberd did. Verche lashed out and his metal fist broke the jaw of another, sending it careening through its allies' lined formation.
Verche took the opportunity to grab another weapon, this one a spear, and stabbed through the chest of a demon that strayed too far from its squad. Its partner, who was unfortunate enough to be behind, was also impaled through the stomach. As Verche prepared to withdraw his spear, two enemies jumped up on either side of him. Only one weapon was free. There was only an opportunity to slice one of the demons with his axe. The second landed and drove its pike into Verche's shoulder. He relaxed his body to endure the pain of the expected blow, but he felt the arm holding his spear begin to weaken and sag. He dropped the spear, grabbed the demon on his shoulder fiercely by the neck, flung it to the ground and stomped a metal boot on its face.
His axe thrust forward and crushed the larynx of another crazed creature. In the midst of his motion, another weapon pierced his leg and it collapsed beneath him. He managed to bend his leg so the knee braced him and maintained an uncomfortable crouched defense.
He looked at his leg and saw a trident driven into the back of his knee. One of the demons had opted to attack from range rather than deal with The God Monster's expertly wielded weapons.
The wounded warrior miraculously found the strength to will his wounded leg forward and limped to his final weapon that a group of demons were struggling to pull out of the ground.
Verche cut down the demons and his axe flickered out. He jerked the blade from the dirt and readied himself for what he assumed would be the last bout. One of his arms now hung useless at his side, blood dripping from his burned fingertips. The limp in one of his legs was all too palpable. He took a few heaving breaths through his cracked mask. Verche figured, if it weren't for The Reversion draining most of his power, he may have been able to handle these lesser monsters despite their overwhelming numbers.
The God Monster's battered body gave the insane creatures all the confidence they needed.
He breathed a small bit of thanks, for the demons had forgotten about Metatron and Pandora.
Verche swung his scimitar in an upper arc and cut through the chest of a taur demon that strayed too far from its companions. The momentum of his swing made it impossible for him to cut the next taur demon to his side, so he landed a devastating kick into the demon's face and sent its crumpled form into the nearest tree. To his other side, three more drove their tridents into his last strong leg. Three tri-blades tore through muscle and tendon, rendering it useless. Verche ignored the pain, swinging his scimitar in wild desperation, hacking the limbs of the taur demons with his undisciplined attacks. Finesse was abandoned. Form discarded. All that remained was to kill as many of the bastards as possible for his own satisfaction.
He fought from his knees, both legs weakened with a bloody arm hanging at his side.
After what seemed like an eternity, his last weapon flickered out. He stared at his empty hands.
Verche grasped a fistful of dirt. “So-close. No. Not yet.”
The demons let out a howl of triumph and threw themselves at Verche. He fought with the remaining strength in his one arm. A few demons fell to the power of his fist, jaws broken, throats crushed, and bones shattered, but soon even that was extinguished. Tridents and pikes drove into his stomach, shoulders and lower back. They tore at his once-beautiful, grand wings until the nerves went numb. He lay there in a broken heap, his golden armor splattered and tarnished by the blood of enemies and his own.
On the ground he saw one of the ornamental wings that had been cut off his helmet. Hooves stomped over it and buried it in the dirt. He reached out earnestly with what little energy endured. Limbs and blades clouded his vision as they beat against his helmet.
He grasped the token in his metal fingers. Before his eyes surrendered to darkness, he drew the broken wing to his chest and held it like a cherished infant.