In the very heart of Gray City, the tall building known as the Gawa Spire pierced through the smudge of toxic smoke and vapor, rising high into the clear sky. During the daytime, its highest offices received the full force of the sun, which glinted off the company tower’s hard planes built of darkened glass and strong Reardon steel. Like a great obsidian shard, it stood out amongst the other buildings of a similar height. TORUS, Clearwater, the Voi Towers, to name a few—all highrises collectively referred to as the Heavens. These buildings and several more were taller than the rest of Gray City, their top levels reserved for only the most wealthy and powerful families, magnates, and executives... roles which which usually overlapped.
A long corner office stretched across one such floor of the Gawa Spire, its entire outer wall constructed of tempered glass, which could be darkened or made transparent at the press of a button. It was currently clear, allowing the last rays of evening to cast their reddish sunset light into the granite-tiled room. Several stands lined the wall, holding a variety of medieval weapons. Here, overlooking the darkening city, stood the CEO of Gawa Industries—arguably the most powerful corporation of Gray City.
Katsuro Gawa didn’t consider himself a sentimental man, but there was something about this view he would never tire of. He stared out over the city, the lowest reaches made opaque by the layer of vapors hanging over it like a toxic cloud. Because of the slant of falling daylight, the tops of the buildings were partially illuminated, but the ground was bathed in near-complete shadow. It gave the effect of staring into an abyss, one which extended downwards endlessly. It made Katsuro feel like a god overlooking a kingdom.
The office was located on the western side of the building. If he squinted, from here he could almost see the coast, far off in the distance. Gray City was large, squarish in shape, about a half-kilometer in both directions. It’s edges were sharp and sudden, however, a perimeter buttressed by great stone and metal walls. Beyond these near-impenetrable protections laid vast swaths of relative wasteland, territories scarred by the great wars of years past and now roamed by ruthless, backwards tribes marauding the scarred ground.
Katsuro truly enjoyed the panorama, felt he could stand in this very spot for hours. He sipped a strange liquid out of a heavy glass tumbler, viscous and silvery white, like mercury. When a door slid open and shut behind him, followed by a series of footsteps, Katsuro saw his lead engineer approaching in the faint reflection of the glass.
“Shita,” said Katsuro. He turned to address the man. He made a point to take another long drink from his glass, which he knew made all his underlings, including Shita, uncomfortable. The engineer’s eyes flicked towards the glass, then up. Katsuro didn’t even try to hide the disdainful smirk from his face.
“Sir,” said Shita, bowing.
Katsuro noted the engineer’s stiff, barely noticeable bow, inclined just enough to not be considered impolite. The older, pepper-haired man had been one of his father’s engineers—the only one who survived—and Katsuro knew Shita bowed only out of duty than a genuine act of respect. That fact didn’t bother him, however. He didn’t need his underlings to like him; Katsuro only needed them to obey, and obeying was something Shita did well. The love of one’s family could be a very powerful motivator, and once Katsuro knew Shita’s pressure points, it made ensuring his loyalty that much easier. Now, the man was his top engineer. Power really was a marvelous thing.
“Well don’t keep me waiting,” said Katsuro. “What’s gone wrong this time?”
Shita adjusted his glasses. “This time, nothing… We got a ping. It seems the Wrath Stone has finally surfaced.”
Katsuro was halfway to taking another drink, but the news halted his arm in midair. “You better not be fucking with me,” he said dangerously.
“Not at all.” If Katsuro’s threatening tone had shaken the engineer, he didn’t show it. “It was triggered yesterday, but didn’t get to us until now. You understand how things are, of course.”
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me, Shita,” said Katsuro, rolling his eyes, “that despite unlimited funding, state-of-the-art equipment, and the most talented, hungry team money could buy… you still haven’t been able to develop more efficient methods. But sure, I understand completely.”
Shita, for all his flaws, remained unperturbed. “You know as well as I that bypassing your father’s encryption is nearly impossible. We should be… appreciative of the backdoors we were able to find. And we’ll find more, eventually. It just takes time.”
“Right. Time, time, time! ‘The one thing that cannot be bought.’ My father always liked to say that." Katsuro scoffed. "In fact, you’re beginning to sound a lot like him, Shita.”
“Isamu was a genius.”
“I continue to be reminded of that,” said Katsuro, irritably. “So? The ping? Where was it?”
A moment of hesitation. “Tiann.”
“Tiann, eh?" He laughed at the irony. "Of course it'd show up there... how inconvenient. With Krennor destabilizing the lands of those feckless Marcher Lords, all the rulers south of the river are sure to be on edge. Why couldn’t it be somewhere north, in one of the Scale Cities? Or—” Katsuro gave a mock gasp, “in my own hexes? Oh no, that would be too easy.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Oh well. No matter. You will send an agent, yes?”
“Already gave the order. Personally.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Good fellow. Nice to know there are some things you can do.” Katsuro finished the rest of his quicksilver drink with a loud smack of his lips. “Mmm, delicious.”
“I don’t know how you drink that stuff.”
A smile crept onto Katsuro’s face. His peculiar habit had become a sort of legend amongst his private team, the one he had formed to detangle the complex web of failsafes and encryption that kept the bulk of Starsword Online’s code impenetrable, and thus impossible to alter. The Archprime who drinks Juice straight from a cup. Katsuro took great pleasure in the mystique it gave him, but what few others knew was that the silvery-white liquid wasn’t the same substance that most used to nourish their bodies while connected to a Dreamdrive. Though similar, this particular drink was an expensive special mixture he’d had custom made by the best Voi chemists he could hire. Just one more advantage of being an Archprime with near-unlimited resources.
“Why Shita, there’s nothing better for the body and mind after a long dive,” said Katsuro. And it was true. The drink helped him spend more time in a dive than probably anyone else alive. Even with the highest quality Juice available on the market, five days was usually the max limit before even the hardiest diver would begin experiencing the debilitating effects of Dissonance. When Katsuro’s body was saturated with his cocktail, however, he could easily dive for twice that. In theory, the Archprime could clear long, complicated dungeons faster than anyone. “It’s not so bad. You should try it sometime.”
“I prefer to pump Juice straight into my veins, where it belongs,” said Shita.
“Well, suit yourself. If that’s everything, you may go, but keep me updated.”
“I’ll let you know when we learn more. It may be some time.” Shita turned to leave.
Katsuro grimaced and rubbed his temples. There was that word again. Time.
“Shita, hold on.”
“Yes?”
“I’ve changed my mind. This matter of the Wrath Stone is too urgent for a normal agent. I want you to send Asenath.”
This gave Shita pause. “Asenath? But you know she cannot be trusted. Not to mention the witch tends to… call attention to herself wherever she goes. I do not recommend it. ”
“As if I give a damn about your recommendations, Shita. I’m well aware of her peculiarities. The fact is Asenath has ways of finding the truth that no one else is capable of. Besides, if she sows a little chaos in the process, is that really so bad? Send her, but keep an eye on her, too.”
“As you wish,” Shita said, bowing a final time before leaving the room.
Your father was a genius. Shita’s words replayed in Katsuro’s head, ringing like an unwelcome bell. If the news about the Wrath Stone hadn’t been so good, he would’ve cursed his father’s name without remorse. The man had been dead five years, and still Katsuro lived in his ever-present shadow. After all he’d done for Starsword Online! That once pet project of his father’s, the one he died for, would’ve been useless without his modifications—which had come at great cost and effort!
Now, under his leadership, Starsword Online had been integrated seamlessly with Gawa Industries’ already ubiquitous Dreamdrive system, and was the most profitable VR industry in all of Gray City. His father’s original plans for the game were anybody’s guess, but apparently they were so important that when Katsuro and the Gawa Board came to seize the project, they found Isamu and nearly his entire team had sacrificed their lives to prevent anyone from finding out.
Oh sure, people had their theories, including Katsuro. But the only thing the now-CEO of Gawa Industries felt certain about was that the secret lay somewhere in Starsword Online itself, in Aletheia, and he’d do anything to find out exactly what was worth his father’s life.
Katsuro walked over to one of the weapon stands, which held a wicked-looking staff nearly as tall as himself. The weapon was a replica. The real version existed only in Starsword Online, but Katsuro found its presence, however fake, comforting. He ran his finger down the staff’s cold, dark steel, which ended in a pointed tip sharp enough to impale. He’d done the same thing many times in Aletheia, and was always impressed by this near-perfect imitation.
As he admired the weapon’s handiwork, he received a call; his secretary. Katsuro lifted a finger to his ear to answer.
“Mr. Gawa, sir? You have a visitor.”
A visitor? Strange. He knew his schedule was clear for the rest of the evening, yet his secretary would not have dared ping him for a trivial matter. “Well? Who is it?”
“It’s your sister, sir.”
At first, he was surprised. Suspicious, even… but no, there was no way she could’ve already found out about the Wrath Stone. It was impossible. This had to be another matter. “Half-sister,” he corrected.
“Right. Sorry sir. Shall I let her through?”
“You know, I’m quite busy—” he began to say, but quickly thought better of it. Considering the events of the day, perhaps he could turn this unexpected meeting to his advantage. His half-sister was shrewd, driven, but he’d manipulated her before. If he did it again, it was possible the Wrath Stone would come into his possession sooner rather than later. “Oh fine. Send the bitch up.”
“Very well, sir. Sorry to bother.”
After hanging up, Katsuro returned his attention to the staff. When his team had found a diagram for the weapon, buried in a short line of code from the little they’d been able to decrypt, he’d been overjoyed. It was more powerful than anything Katsuro had ever seen or heard of in Aletheia, and it had the potential to be even greater… for it was currently—frustratingly—incomplete. A row of seven circular indentations had been carved into the long metal shaft, only two of which were already occupied by smooth, oval stones.
Katsuro felt certain he was soon to add a third.
No one was going to stop him from discovering just what his father had been doing with Starsword Online, working all those years in relative secrecy. And when Katsuro finally did, he and his team could finally alter the core code of the game for good. Every inch of territory could be transformed into profitable mines or woodlands, or whatever else he deemed fit. Aletheia was meant to have a ruler, a god, and Katsuro felt he was destined for it. No matter the cost, no matter who he had to kill.
No matter how many bodies he had to stack to get there, the Sky Throne would be his.
The door to his office slid open, and Katsuro turned to greet the evening’s newest surprise. He smiled disarmingly, as if he couldn’t be happier to see his only half-blood sibling.
“Ah, my lovely sister,” he said, his voice dripping with honeyed venom. “Or should I say, the Duchess of Tiann... to what do I owe the pleasure?”