MICH : LEVEL 11

DAY 233 : A-DAY, SECONDWEEK, HORUS, YEAR 1

CENTRAL 21 : CENTRAL DISTRICT 3 : WITNESSES

I changed my name back.

Of course I did.

Rod is a dumb name, and anyone who has it is a dumb person with dumb ideas.

I scored some pretty good tickets to today’s finals too. Not sure how so many were available so few weeks out.

But I’ve mostly stopped my occasional checkups on Jessie. As little as I approve of whatever she has going on, I can’t argue with the results.

Whenever I see her these days… She looks genuinely happy.

And the fact of the matter is, there just isn’t anyone I can rally behind about it. Or vice versa. Other than Blue’s abusive ex, I mean. I’ve seen enough domestic violence and the aftermath thereof, to recognize the symptoms of a battered partner. And that sweet, shy girl… Anyway, he’s out for obvious reasons.

So I’ve let it go.

I don’t even know that Jessie has tickets to the same event today. I didn’t hear her complain about it all month until she suddenly stopped last week. Not even at all.

It’s in thinking through the very thing I don’t think about anymore that I overhear a dragon-themed butler running up to some kind of medieval battle-maid. “Holy shit, Tanya, someone’s killing Oneshot!”

Tanya is audible too now. “What? Someone managed it?”

“No, dude! That’s the wrong question.”

Tanya the battle maid scoffs in his deep baritone. “Okay, sweety… Get to the point…”

The butler barks like the literal dog I’m pretty sure he actually used to be, now that I think of it. “You SHOULD’VE asked me… Who’s DOING it?”

Tanya practically barks. “WHAT??? HOW??? WHERE???”

That last question was in stereo. One source was Tanya the also-former dog, apparently.

The other was me.

Clearly startled, their gaze pivots as one to gape at me.

No time for introductions. There’s no doubt in my mind that… “WELL???”

They just keep staring.

Then I remember.

She told me all about her plan. It was a crazy thing that all depended on absurdly close proximity to… A spawnpoint.

I start running. Not Dashing. I read the rules. Even if you ignore the speeding fine per in-city Dash, getting stopped for my trouble would take longer than just walking there in the first place.

But no need for that. Or directions.

After the first corner I take, the light-show three blocks straight ahead is enough of a hint for even me to draw some conclusions from.

Although, as I get closer, I suppose nothing clues me in quite so much as the voice yelling ‘GO’ every few seconds.

Emerging into the square, I… can’t get through the tightly packed throng of Heroes and Citizens alike.

Well, this doesn’t take a genius…

[ MYTHIC ACCESSORY EQUIPPED: FOREVER BLANKET ]

Walking into the crowd, I stroll through everyone to reach the center in moments.

And there she is. Of course… Don’t know why I ever doubted what I’d find.

Oh, who am I kidding? I never did.

He looks battered and bruised all over.

And she looks… Pristine.

But all doubt is alleviated less than a second after I catch sight of her as she dies from a needle prick to the chin, only to be immediately brought back sans-minor-injury.

Charging again, she swings her blasphemous blade, and… It connects.

He doesn’t teleport through it. Or move at all for that matter.

She really did it. No… She’s really doing it.

Except then she dies again.

And again and again, every two-and-a-half seconds or so. I only know that because of how she bragged about her sword’s effect having a hard three-second limit.

It certainly feels longer just watching it like this.

Nothing compared to how long it is for her, of course. If respawning takes eight hours… Four of those makes a day… And the whole loop takes a few seconds…

This clearly isn’t an event that just started. The crowd’s too big for that. News has already spread. It’s already in the rumor mill. Hell, that’s how I heard about it.

How long has she been at this? How many months?

And how many more to go?

She’s hitting him just fine. And the damage seems to be sticking. But those damage numbers… God, between his Armor and STATs, just how high is his Defense?

She angles her strike exactly like I’ve seen hundreds of times over the last ten-ish minutes.

It does the same four damage as always.

And after an eight-hour delay, she simultaneously falls over in a burst of shining red light, and seems to teleport backwards, only to repeat the same thing less than three seconds later.

Another loop.

Another four slivers of his HP is shed away in exchange for another day of her life.

Every single one changes nothing in the grand scheme, despite the visible damage. How much is she actually doing relative to his full health each time? If I took four damage like that… Would I even notice? Let alone care…

To the spawncamper’s eyes, the difference to his Health Bar must be practically invisible. Less than a pixel on a tablet screen.

And yet, Oneshot himself looks… Resigned?

Finally, my gaze breaks away from the horrifying sight of Jessie getting exactly what she always wanted, and I instead look more fully at the crowd.

Much of it looks right back at me, jealously stink-eyeing my lack of tangibility.

But most aren’t here for that. Most are here for the show.

There’s plenty of random interested nobodies like myself. But there’s also… Royals, diplomats, wandering Maxlevels… All obviously here to attend the Tournament finals.

The match should be starting soon. How long have they been watching?

How long has she been fighting… All alone?

No one here understands her powers, do they? Not really. Or at least they didn’t… Not until I arrived.

But she hates me. If there’s one person who’s support she doesn’t want… But what if she doesn’t know where it’s coming from?

I inhale.

Backing up into the crowd, I hold my breath until the moment she starts to move.

I affect my southern-prospector accent. “YEAH, JESSIE!!! KICK HIS ASS!!!”

I’m not entirely sure If she hears me.

If she does, she doesn’t react.

But I do elicit some muttering from the folks nearby.

“Who’s Jessie?”

“Is that the Bitch’s name?”

She doesn’t turn to face me on the next respawn either. I’m out of her periphery, after all.

What she does do, is go in for another strike to refresh her Debuff.

But her angle is bad. With that kind of momentum, she’ll have to slow down to hit him properly.

She does.

Oneshot is just looking snidely at Jessie as she almost fumbles the whole thing.

I start to wonder why he doesn’t bend and squirm out of the way to dodge her swing.

But of course… That’s exactly what he’s doing.

She just compensates by readjusting, only to come in harder every time.

I was afraid for a second that my cheering would screw her up.

But that seems impossible.

Which is a relief since my spark has already kindled a flame I would have no hope of stopping anyway.

First, a few around me start yelling too.

Then others.

More.

Soon, at least 90% of the crowd is cheering her on. Not the whole thing.

A few people seem to want Oneshot to win for some reason. They are, however, wildly unpopular. Talk about trolls…

Actually, yeah. Speaking of trolls… There is perhaps no bigger troll here than Oneshot himself. So why doesn’t he throw her back? Teleport her away? Apply some kind of large force damage that throws her back for the three seconds he needs?

But then I smirk.

Of course… he can’t, can he? This guy literally doesn’t have a way to interact with her without killing her, does he?

I’ve heard this was a problem for Maxlevels. They have to walk around treating normal people like porcelain.

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Any stray gesture, a bit too hard of a hand movement while talking to a new arrival… Can kill.

Snorting, I look around for somewhere to sit. I’d summon my customary half of a bench, but deployed chairs are very, unavoidably tangible. And I don’t feel like plopping mine down would play well for the people I’m standing inside of.

Although there are a few benches with great views of the action. They’ve got people standing on them and holding up various rectangles and things that I have to imagine are some kind of recording equipment.

But I figure they shouldn’t mind someone using one of those seats for its intended purpose in literally the same space.

One quick walk and about a day of Jessie’s life later, I don’t bother looking at the probably-scowling man whose legs I’m essentially sitting in.

Now fully settled, I only have eyes for one thing.

She hits.

She dies.

She respawns.

Hit.

Hit.

Die.

Respawn.

Hit.

Die.

Respawn.

Hit.

Hit.

Hit.

Die.

Respawn.

Damn, three that time… But even when she’s unlucky enough to only land one, that number never becomes zero.

The longer I watch the uninterrupted loop, the more sure I am.

She truly can’t be stopped, can she?

I never needed to worry. Not really.

Her victory was never even in question. The clincher isn’t her breathing power. Well, it is. But more than that, everyone basically gets the powers of my blanket for a few seconds after they respawn.

She’s hitting him faster than that.

The hit deactivates the effect, but that would be true no matter what kind of hit it is. Whether the Debuff is refreshed or not, she’s vulnerable. In theory, she would inevitably slip. Or miss a step. Or… Something.

But it never happens.

She obsessed over this setup all those months ago. I never thought it would really work.

But that’s exactly what it’s doing.

So I just watch it work. I’m still enthralled, only for a very different reason than a moment ago.

She was right, wasn’t she? That kid really did it…

Or at least she’s really doing it. In the middle of the street. In the middle of central. In the middle of the day. In the middle of a crowd, nearly all of which must be wasting their tickets to watch the Tournament Finals. But apparently, and I can’t say I disagree, her show is better.

All that, and she doesn’t even need to worry about interference.

In fact, people do try to interfere.

Occasionally, I’ll see someone make a jump for Oneshot, or fire a weapon, or activate a Skill, or… All sorts of things. All united by the way they each disintegrate along with one of Jessie’s attempts, after having collapsed in a blinding red ‘1’ whenever said attempt was made.

But what the crowd lacks in effective interference, it makes up for in enthusiasm.

As the minutes stretch into hours, they throw everything at him.

One guy even fires a clone of himself directly at Oneshot.

Just like the others, it disintegrates long before it reaches him.

But something about someone firing a missile shaped exactly like themselves, and having that same missile get shrugged off only to be countered by one damage… The sight is somehow more existentially depressing than the rest.

Still, even that poor attempt is less contemptible than the few shitheads aiming for Jessie.

But an invincibility window is an invincibility window, and their ganking attempts don’t do much, as Oneshot is pretty on the ball about killing her just as soon as he can.

Initially, I want to fill everyone who tries it with arrows.

But the rest of the crowd beats me there, and by hook or by crook, anyone attacking Jessie inevitably stops doing that after the first attempt.

Anyway, that’s how I pass another year of Jessie’s life.

All in exchange for… How much of his Health bar? There’s gotta be a Skill for seeing HP of a target. And I have a few points… Should I… Nah. Watching the clock on that will only make it tick slower.

By now, the ‘Jessie’ cheer I started has resolved into something both different, and less friendly.

“BITCH!!! BITCH!!! BITCH!!! BITCH!!! BITCH!!! BITCH!!! BITCH!!!”

To change things up, I put my hands in the shape of a megaphone and wait for her to speak.

I’m ready the instant she does. “GO!!!”

I’m ready the next time too. “GO!!!”

And every one after that. “GO!!!”

But then, someone else joins in. “GO!!!”

And the people around them. “GO!!!”

It spreads from there. “GO!!!”

Pretty soon, the whole audience. “GO!!! GO!!! GO!!! GO!!! GO!!! GO!!! GO!!! GO!!!”

I can’t help it.

She hates me. And she deserves to.

But I’ve never felt more proud.

Even if I’m not really doing anything. Except maybe watch as everything I did to help her along, pays off in full.

I just sit there. I sit and watch as the victory Jessica has now assured over the unbeatable tyrant, plays out the only way it can.

I may have already missed a good chunk of the girl’s moment of glory. But I’d literally sooner die than miss a moment more.

I refuse to sacrifice a single one. Not to stop all the Heroes killing themselves for no reason.

Not to have a much-needed word with the girl’s live-in-boyfriend well within earshot, begging the guards to ‘stop this barbarism’.

Not for the hundreds of other things that I forget the instant they happen around me.

Not for anything.

Honestly, that’s my main reason I’ve now abandoned all impetus of walking up there with my Forever Blanket to get in close and try to talk her out of this.

She’d never listen. Not in a million… God, Darreck is really getting on my nerves though.

He’s been trying in vain to get through to the girl this whole time. But he doesn’t seem to realize what I’ve known from the start.

There’s no getting through to her. Not about this. The most he could ever do was stick around and wait for the aftermath.

But he does seem to eventually come to his senses.

An army of Heroes and NPCs alike are passively blocking his path to her, and actively blocking every attempt to make her stop.

Darreck stays for at least a year of Jessie’s fight.

But eventually, he drags the rest of his Primary Color Squad to watch the match he apparently paid for. He sounds impatient. As though the one here inconvenienced more than anyone else, is him.

Belatedly, I wonder if he realizes Jessie is actually spending eight hours waiting in between the instant she respawns. I wonder if he even knows that time in respawn is counted against a Debuff’s duration.

I just go ahead and resolve not to tell him that all his carefully laced control is eroding away while the rest of his willing captives go participate in society or whatever it is about this that gets him off.

Not that I don’t reveal myself. Not trying to look like a stalker over here. Just watching the excessively public show.

Our eyes meet.

He looks at Jessie.

Back to me.

Then once more at… He prefers to call her Red.

But he doesn’t even do that.

Instead, he leaves.

Green immediately follows.

Blue needs more prodding.

Yellow… Doesn’t move. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was entranced by the girl with whom I’m pretty sure no amount of brainwashing could result in anything but scorn for.

Which is understandable, if needlessly convoluted… She probably just thought they were rivals.

But now here’s Red. More powerful than she must’ve even thought possible. Dying and respawning so fast that she’s beating the most powerful-

Green tugs on Yellow’s top. “Hey, we’re leaving.”

Clearly still in shock, Yellow looks back at Darreck.

Sure enough, he’s heading down the street, with Blue in tow.

Practically leading Yellow by the collar, Green runs to catch up.

For a time after they leave, things take a turn for the casual.

At first, it’s just a bluff from Jessie to get this over with faster. Which, if I could convince Oneshot to agree, I would. But I would’ve thought that less likely to work than what she’s already doing.

Sure enough, it doesn’t.

And she pays for it with some apparently traumatizing dreams.

Like I said, if I could do anything tangible to speed this up, I would.

But even as Jessie dies and lives and damages and keeps her Debuffs refreshed, a conversation starts up.

She respawns. “So why do you keep all the-”

She dies.

She respawns. “-True Random Mod Stones to yourself?”

In an oddly kind turn, Oneshot doesn’t talk while she’s respawning, spacing it out so she can hear his answer. “If I spread the love, all my best shit’ll get nerfed.”

“Good… It should be nerfed… Everything about what you’re doing… Should be nerfed.”

He nods. “So perhaps you can see… How I’m incentivized… Not to facilitate that happening?”

It just kind of goes like that for a while.

Eventually, Oneshot starts treating it like a therapy session. He’s got a captive audience after all. And I can definitely relate to that.

Jessie’s fun to bounce ideas off of. In no small part because you can always tell how stupid she thinks what you’re saying is. Or not. But mostly the other thing. I can only imagine how cathartic that gets when she has to either pay attention or stop actively killing you.

Oneshot seems to work his hand gestures into killing her.

“I make fun of everyone but myself?”

“Of course I do!”

“I’m not even equipped to make fun of me.”

“But sure…”

“I laugh at myself.”

“But that humor is so meta that it’s unrelatable.”

“Like some of the rest of my sense of humor, I’ll admit.”

“Okay, most of it.”

“All of it.”

“Shut up.”

But she’s not saying anything back. Just attacking.

And torn to shreds, looking like he’s been through a thresher, Oneshot only smiles wider as he approaches what has to be the end of the line.

Wider.

And wider.

It’s putting me more than a little on edge.

His entire body just sort of flashes before… Now he’s pristine.

What… Did he just heal?

My heart drops. I can’t believe…

Looking over to the one still attacking him, I catch sight of Jessie’s face.

But instead of devastated or depressed or even remotely discouraged, she just looks angrier than ever as she cuts Oneshot over and over and over, and Oneshot kills her over and over and over.

That Full Restore… Because of course I know what it is. There’s only one Epic Core Skill that can take you from death’s door to completely recovered, just like that. Outside of a Healer CLASS, anyway. And this guy’s no Healer.

How many hours did that just negate? That’s the question the rest of the audience is asking each other.

But of course, they don’t know. That’s the wrong question. How many years..? Decades? Surely not decades.

At eight subjective hours per death… Four deaths every nine to twelve seconds… That’s… At worst, it’s just over two years. At best, it’s just under three.

She’s been killing her for over twice as long as she’s been in… It feels wrong to call it ‘Heaven’? Where can she possibly be right now, but hell?

And she doesn’t even look deterred.

She just keeps going. Does… Does she even know the battle basically just reset? How long has it been since she’s allowed herself to think about his HP? How long since she lost track of time altogether? Or has she even?

Is Jessie, herself, fully aware of the time she’s devoted to this? Or is she simply unwilling for it to have been wasted? That sounds like her… And how many more years is she willing to spend? How many hours? Days? Surely not… But what if?

There’s no doubt in my mind that she’d keep this going forever if that’s what it takes to beat him.

And then he does it again.

He used Full Restore… But… How?

Full Restore is an Epic Core Skill, famous, as Skills go, for its viability to round out any build. It’s well known first and foremost for its efficacy. But nearly as much for its cooldown. Which is long. Longer than these two have been fighting by a good margin. So how…

Jessie stops being vocal after Oneshot completely heals for a second time.

But she still hits him.

And he still kills her.

And the whole thing starts again.

I don’t know how many hours it takes. But it’s well into nighttime by now.

But she keeps going.

And she slows.

Her movements get duller.

At some point, she stops drawing the white blade.

But the other always lands. And always on time.

Then, eventually, something like seven years since she began, Jessie stands. Sword held high. Hand shaking, face bloodless, eyes cloudy… Completely pristine in the middle of a battlefield strewn with her own mangled corpses.

Small as she is, Jessie towers alone over the only one that isn’t hers.

I can’t help the tears. Still watching. Still out of sight, sitting inside the legs of some guy. Still entranced.

I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

Then she falls over.