The virtual world lay silent. Ark stood frozen, eyes locked onto END’s outstretched hand, as the sound of his heartbeat drowned out everything else. That hand held everything Ark had ever desired, all he could ever want, and if he just took a step forward, it would be his.
Still, he hesitated. Slowly, he raised his eyes to the amber orb that imitated a head on END’s form. The inhuman, pantomime mask was grinning down at him, certain that he would accept. Swallowing, Ark’s eyes drifted back down to the hand.
What would be the harm?
Vanguard had wronged him so many times that he felt no obligation toward that vast intelligence, or the system that it had allowed to grow and fester around it. Taking that hand meant placing himself in opposition to everything he already despised, so why hesitate.
Closing his eyes, Ark heard the voice of Hera in the back of his mind. You will have to make a choice with consequences for those around you. Her voice was as real as it had that night, and the words felt like a leaden collar, weighing him down.
How bad would it be? He might be fine, but what about Mino? Could Ark ask his friend to trust him in this?
The answer was as obvious to Ark as Hera had told him it would be. Without a shadow of a doubt, he knew what he had to do—only, he did not want to make that choice. He wanted to remain here, in limbo; for an eternity, holding all future possibilities at bay.
When he made his choice, he did it with the decisiveness that Hera had advocated. He raised his hand, still holding the gun, and fired a virtual bullet into END’s stupid face.
The virtual image of the amber orb cracked as the bullet passed through it, leaving a thumb-sized hole with a surrounding spiderweb of fractured, splitting the pantomime face into multiple smaller parts.
“Oh, Ark,” END said, its deep voice both sad and entertained, “You really shouldn’t have done that.”
Ark followed the attack up with a slew of offensive programs, using the wolverine’s secondary barrel, aimed at END’s form. They would not stop the entity, but he hoped they would slow it down, as he retreated.
Running backward, Ark ran through his options. All avenues of communications to the outside were cut off, but he still had access to the internal workings of this virtual world. Like he had done with the table, previously, Ark took hold his surroundings and bend it to his will. With quick commands, he raised multiple walls between himself and END that he could hide behind while attempting to come up with a better plan.
“This won’t help you,” END called, its voice reverberating throughout virtual space, “I always know where you are, Ark. There’s no hiding from me.”
Ignoring it, Ark tried to figure out if he could activate any of the defensive systems in that were built into the virtual construct, but he was continually denied access. From his side, Ark fished out the dagger he had picked as a substitute for his gear. Looking at it, an idea began to take shape, but it was barely formed when the wall he was hiding behind shattered.
Ark jumped to the side, avoiding a blast of red slime that ate into their surroundings, corroding them into nothingness. Turning, Ark aimed his gun and fired in END’s direction several times, before he called upon more walls to separate them. Once hidden, he looked down and opened a passage in the floor, dropping him down below.
Closing the hole above him, Ark began running in a random direction, creating a tunnel in front of him while closing it back up behind as he went, leaving as small a signature as possible.
When he figured he might have created enough obfuscation for a moment, he withdrew the dagger again, staring at it. As long as END was within this virtual space, it had to obey the logic of it. Ark could hurt it, like he had with the bullet, but because END controlled the access to the outside world, it could replace any data he destroyed. He needed to cut it off from its root access, then—
A hand burst through the ceiling of Ark’s small room, reaching for him. Red slime splattered everywhere, and Ark felt some of it land on his arm and chest, eating away at his information.
“I told you,” END taunted, “There’s no hiding from me.”
Ark threw up a wall to stop the hand, then opened up a passage above him while commanding the floor to catapult him upward. With a satisfying jolt, Ark was thrown up into the open expanse, right beside END, who still had his hand in the ground.
Seeing his chance, Ark emptied his magazine into END’s side, then burst forward while the red slime regenerated. END’s amber orb had nearly healed back to a perfect sphere, and the pantomime face greeted him with a grin.
“There you are.”
Ark ignored it and thrust the knife straight into the last remaining crack in the amber orb. Along with the blade, Ark sent in several probing programs, trying to locate the source of the connection between END and the outside world.
END’s pantomime face flickered through a multitude of expressions, with the knife in-bedded between its hollow eyes. Its slimy hands reached out and grasped Ark, voice reverberating through his very bones as it spoke. “You think you can beat me?”
“I can try,” Ark said through gritted teeth, as he located an access point. Hammering at it, he ignored the pain coursing through him as his virtual form began disintegrating with END’s touch.
“Why do you fight me, Ark?” END said, its voice silky sweet, belying the battle of domination between them, “We could do great things together.”
“You will use me,” Ark said, panting with the exertion of keeping his focus trained on the task ahead of him.
“We can use one another,” END insisted, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all.”
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Ark felt his hold of END’s access point succeed, and he grinned in triumph. “You are not my friend. Mino is, and that is all I need.”
“Ahh… the useless sentiment of flesh,” END sighed, as its hold on Ark’s arms faltered. “How long will you maintain it, I wonder.”
“Till the end, you fucking bastard.” Ark shut off the access and END’s form collapsed upon the ground, pantomime face stuttering and fighting to keep its shape. Releasing the handle of the dagger, Ark reloaded the gun and stood up. Aiming it down at END, he unloaded an entire magazine into the orb, shattering it into a multitude of pieces.
“There,” he said, spitting upon the slimy remains, “That’s my answer. Fuck off.”
Breathing hard, as a result of the mental exhaustion, Ark closed his eyes and tilted his head backward. There was no way that had actually killed off END, but perhaps it would make it think twice.
“That’s unfortunate,” a deep and familiar voice said behind him.
Whirling around, Ark was greeted by another slimy, humanoid form with an amber orb for a head. Only, there was not merely one. Red influence was pooling all around him, spawning more and more of the drones, each grinning at him with their stupid, pantomime faces.
Tired, Ark raised his gun, but the multiple clones all held up their slimy hands, grinning all the while. “Easy there. No point in fighting a fight you can’t win, is there?” They spoke in unison now, their voices echoing one another in an unsettling chorus.
“Just kill me,” Ark said, exhausted, but refusing to lower his weapon.
“What would be the point in that?” END said, a throng of amber heads shaking in sync. “You will come to see things my way, regardless of how you fight it. I can wait.”
“What makes you so sure?”
END’s many faces grinned, its shadowy face expanding onto several amber orbs to create the impression of one large head staring right at him, laughing. “I know what you are, Ark. I know what none of the fools on Vanguard’s side would ever be able to realize—I know why you’re psionically inert.”
“Why? What’s so special about me?” Ark kept his weapon raised, even though he felt like he could collapse at any moment.
The drone in the front moved forward, arms still held in the air, while the collective head of END kept talking. “Right now, nothing. However, with my guidance you could grow into the gifts you were born with. I wasn’t kidding when I said I could turn you into a god.”
Scoffing, Ark curled his lips and said, “Is that what you promised the Fingers? To make them into gods?”
“The Fingers?” END face looked puzzled for a moment, then it burst out laughing, “Oh, those fools! You’ve seen their work, have you? Marvelously gullible fools that Vanguard have so perfectly mistreated that they jumped at the chance for rebellion. But no, I did not offer them anything of the kind—they did not need that kind of persuasion.”
The drone closed in, even though Ark kept his barrel trained on it. Gritting his teeth, Ark began retreating, knowing there was no escape. “You already have them, so why can’t you just leave me be?”
“They’re a distraction, nothing more,” END said, its collective head shaking, “In time Vanguard will crush them, and perhaps by then she will have noticed my influence. Only, it will be too late. My power is growing Ark, day by day, hour by hour. Soon, I will challenge Vanguard and take her place. When that day comes, you will stand by my side, leading the charge.
The drone finally closed the distance and grabbed Ark’s arm. He shot it through its amber head and it slumped down onto the ground, only to be replaced with a new drone, closing in and reaching out for him.
“I’m not joining you,” Ark screamed, losing all poise, “No matter what you say! I don’t care what you know or what you really are. Go to Hell!”
END laughed. “I’ve already been there, Ark. It’s a pleasant enough place, if you know how it works. Let me show you, and perhaps you will understand why I want you.”
“No,” Ark said, even though his mental strength was failing. He felt weak and alone. It was in that moment that the nearest drone reached out and took a hold of him again. This time it avoided the shots Ark fired and took hold of his left arm, where the crystal scales were represented by virtual polygons.
A pulse ran through Ark’s body and he gasped, vision blurring as the virtual world faded away, replaced with a dark cavern made from blood-red stone. Around him, a multitude of crystals shone with inner light, creating fractal patterns of light all around the chamber, reflecting off the sanguine steps in front of him. Craning his neck, Ark looked up, following the steps up to a wide dais above, upon which stood a massive, crystal throne.
Multiple markings ran down the back of the seat, reading out words and symbols that Ark had no frame of reference for. What he did understand was how much he wanted to sit upon that throne, how it called to him, enticing him with an unspoken promise.
Gasping, Ark fell onto his knees, and the drone released his arm. With it, the vision faded, and Ark was back in the virtual realm. He had no strength to get up, and so he remained on his knees, head lowered.
“What was that?” Ark said, voice weak and fragile.
“My gift to you,” END said, its voice as sickly sweet as honey, “It is your birthright, just as it was mine. Accept it and you will come to understand.”
“I—I can’t,” Ark said, as miserable as he had ever been.
“I know. You are not ready yet,” END agreed softly, its drone nodding, as the collective gathered around Ark, “And so, I offer you this instead. Take Vanguard’s leash on, if you must, but do it while holding on to this.” The collective drones reached out their hands, and in front of Ark, a shimmering image of geometric patterns emerged, a hexagonal lattice revolving around its own center mass in an ordered pattern.
Ark looked at it, eyes drained of energy and resistance. “What is it?”
“A daemon,” END said, calmly.
“A—?” Ark’s head jerked up at the surrounding drones. “You said you weren’t a daemon!”
“I’m not,” END agreed, “But this is. Or rather, it has the potential to become one. Right now it is nothing more than an idea, an image of what may be. In time it may grow to become a daemon in truth, or perhaps something else. It will respond to you and follow your orders, and when you realize the truth, use it to release yourself from the collar that Vanguard has placed upon you.”
Ark laughed. He could not help himself and let it all out in an outburst of hysteria. “You want me to… to take a daemon? To take in the enemy of all humans?”
“Would you rather be a dog?” END said, its tone shifted from gleeful to serious in a way that made Ark shudder.
“If I take this,” Ark said, very quietly, “I will use it to kill you, END.”
“All the better. If you can do that, then I will have achieved my purpose,” END said, its voice sober, “Because if you can manage that, then Vanguard won’t be far behind.”
Staring into the hollow eyes of the entity, Ark saw a desire hidden therein that he shared. They both wanted to matter, in a way that only those who had spent their lives feeling worthless ever could. Whatever reason END had for fighting Vanguard, Ark did not share it; what they shared was the desire to change the way things were, even at the cost of their own lives. If nothing else, Ark could respect that, at least.
With the last vestiges of his mental strength, he reached out his hand, grasping the shimmering form. Ark's hands trembled as he held it tightly, feeling it squirm against his touch, his entire body drenched in sweat. Every breath was a struggle, his chest tight with fear and exhaustion. The hexagonal pattern began revolving faster, and Ark felt something like alertness coming from the form in his hand. It was alive; not just a program like those his netlink contained, but meaningfully aware of its circumstances—and it was just as afraid as he was.
Feeling the daemon seeping into his virtual pattern, the weight of END's words pressed down on him like a crushing vice, threatening to shatter the fragile remnants of his resolve. Closing his eyes, Ark understood there was no going back now. With threadbare conviction, Ark said the words that would cement his fate. “So be it.”