[+Story Mission: ]

'In Name Of The Wishful, Those Who Sit In Wait Of Liberation, Repair The Arc Of The New World |Travel To The Stripped Land Of Belvath|

Just what exactly does it mean? The words were not confusing, but the implications, especially when considering context, led to repeated mental dead-ends.

"Dude... I think we should sell your account! I don't mean to sound like a drag. But with your character, and this (glitched?) Story Mission. It could easily fetch over $60,000."

"Again, No." Leek was rigid in his decision, the prospect of money did nothing to sway his choice. "You invite me to play, I do it, and you immediately tell me to restart?"

He did not take kindly to people trying to persuade him. It showed a lack of care for his ability to think critically.

If someone cared, they would refuse to be persistent. Feeling content with his answer at face value knowing he took the effort to think it through.

"I get it. Its not some crazy amount. But there are few accounts that are even considered worth the transaction fees." His words were not stern as they came out, but strong enough to give the feeling of a lecturing parent. "Even I wouldn't think too hard about it."

His persuasion changed to aim at the rationale of the brain. Taking away the time investment, and trying to look at what it was he had, objectively.

He knew how sacred Gray holds his accounts. And how adverse he is to the idea of giving his progress to someone not deserving of it.

Their conversation was being held over video call.

Hakeem in his pitch back room. Gray, though on the other side, did not grace the call with his person, as an avatar took his place on the monitor.

Around the time Leek had been given the unusual quest FAO had crashed. Gray had not been spared this fate either.

Rather than jump back into the game they decided to chit-chat for a while, trying to not overbear their Full Stream Headsets.

Though its more likely Gray was in wait for Hakeem. His Headset was of a nearly obsolete model, while Gray's had been of the newest.

It may have been second-hand, but regardless it went for a couple pretty pennies.

He has greatly invested in his setup to play the modern Full Stream games at highest quality possible, and future proofing through processing speed/stability. His free time is consistently consumed by gaming, dishing a little more for the best he can get is a no brainer.

"... Well. You made up your mind." The profile picture lit up with each of his words. "Just do a system check. And let's get BACK TO IT!"

Something to note about Gray was his typical lack of enthusiasm, which is amplified by lack of interest on his part. Whenever something shifts to the topic of games, specifically VR games, he becomes a ball of drive.

Hakeem, thinking ahead, had already gone about fiddling with his other monitor to prepare his computer and headset. "Ahead of you, cuz I'm too fast!" He put his arms out to flex his biceps to the camera.

There wasn't much in the way of muscle. But, if taken with the benefit of the doubt, you could differentiate between when he is and is not trying to bulge his arms.

*Ding*

"Welcome Back To The Vast World Of Fallen Arc: Online. We Were Awaiting Your Return!"

Jumping back into the game was routine. The welcome message felt fairly more personal than he'd assume normal. Thankfully it didn't dip into an overreaching corporations attempt at informality.

""

For all the eye could see was a sea of colorful waves, contorting in shape with every passing moment.

Stolen story; please report.

Scorched remains of a once great greensward set ablaze, flickering between a deep orange and burning white. The raising ash shorted any sight from beyond the horizon, and many sights in its foreground.

Gazing down below, and searching through the strain of the eye, many bodies scrambled to do something about the loss.

Buckets of water came to douse the aging crops.

In the places where small kindles remained, the less abled took to suffocating anything left with either dirt or sand; stirring it in as to not cause another unwarranted flare up.

Amongst this even a familiar face came to engage in the effort.

A woman in a white blouse.

Her grey pantsuit which had covered her torso was now thrown to the ground, trampled by the aggregate and frantic people.

This woman was apart of the ground trying to rid the kindles, moving swiftly to remain efficient in the snuff effort.

-???: A man draped in red cloth, of which had the length of an overcoat, black canvas trousers, and a hilted saber stood a distance away. "I did not wish to part with you. So may my acts put you to rest, and anything anew be free of Theseus' dilemma." His expression matched the dreary scene in front of him.

Wasting no more time to converse with himself, the man turned his back to the still raging blaze.

Now facing the yet setting Sun he disappeared into its light, aided by the unbearable light from the fire.

To anyone watching the man knew that, even with lack of context, his face would never again return. Some conviction had been seeded within his mind, leading him word first into his intentions.

Though his departure was definitely premature; it was not possible for the village to charge him for his crimes or try to recoup the damages.

"Farewell..."

Those words came from his mouth and dissipated just as quickly, reaching the ears of none.

""

-???: "Hey, what are we doing here?"

-Hakeem: "Wha- Who the hell are you!?"

Hakeem and Gray had put themselves back into the game of FAO, disconnecting from their bodies as they projected their consciousness elsewhere, plugging into the virtual hub that is their Full Stream Headsets.

Somewhere down the rabbit hole Hakeem got stopped.

If he had to inquire it would be somewhere between the game's start up screen, and his 'consciousness' being transported to it.

-???: "I'm Leek and you're Hakeem. Now that we're acquainted I think we should get back..."

The disembodied voice was less than that of a stranger. It felt close to him, even with it coming from someone else's mouth.

He was thinking to himself in a perspective that he was unfamiliar with, that's how he felt about it.

-Hakeem: "Leek? What does that even mean, 'Leek' is just a game persona."

It was clear to him that exposure to the old, prototype like, headset must have caused him to develop some mental illness.

Or at the least, left his brain in a damaged state.

-Leek?: "No. You say that, but you're the one who shouldn't be here." No hostility was coming from 'his' words, it was only fact he spoke in. "We should never have met, yet you still came about. Pushing me out of the way, to take on my life as some entertainment."

Hakeem started to get lost in the conversation. The knowledge that he had some early onset mental deterioration started to brake him.

The only thing which would solidify the hypothesis was the reaction, and words, of anyone separate from himself... even then. Could he trust his mind to tell him the truth when it comes to everyone else's words or intention?

-Hakeem: He continued. "I get it now, I'm insane..." This was more rhetorical, he couldn't get a accurate answer from himself.

To get better understanding of his current experience, imagine an out-of-body experience. The type where once you're done with you'd likely forget almost immediately, as you had nothing to actually tie the experience to it would just fade; a thought you were on the verge of having, but never actually arriving to it.

-Leek?: "Hmm, he still doesn't remember?" This thought was said in more of a whisper, mimicking the idea of thinking. "I'll figure something out, fifth times the charm I guess."

-Hakeem: "Fifth? This keeps happening..." His back slid down the melodramatic wall in his head; metaphorically speaking.

-Leek?: "Yeah, it does... but just get up if you don't want to be here." His silence was in clear replacement of a deep sigh. Something about those words reminded him of his state of being.

Like suffering in a nightmare, manipulating situations in your mind to breed pain, only to stop it all with the realization that it's all not real.

Then, he was gone again.

-Leek?: He took a deep breath, then huffed a bit. "And again, I'm left kicking rocks..."

""

-ALTgray: "You should get a better Net Cable. Your character lagged in a bit."

In his face was the suited knight he had the chance to get to know, before both of their games crashed.

-Leek: "Did I? Maybe I should get a new one, I'm using the same that came with the headset." Leek knew that his cable had to be a while past its recommended replacement date.

This idea also resonated with him. Gray was not the type to be okay with optional glitching, or lag. It would do nothing but crush his experience when anything other than skill comes into his defeat.

He would not be verbal with his disdain, but it could, and will, be felt. Especially when he had pointed out my problem beforehand.

-ALTgray: "I agree. But now, we're going to complete a nearby instance dungeon. If you need to prepare, do it now. Or bring ring backup equipment." He was referencing the horrible build choice Leek had.

A glaive, and a gauntlet. It was frankly retarded to even assume such a thing was better than a wooden sword.

-Leek: In response he said. "Nah. I'm good with what I got."

They both then set off. Collecting the necessary permit to be given access to the nearby dungeon.