[ZERO SPACE]
Tambien hobbled forward as fast as his metal legs would take him. A gigantic wall of water rose behind him like a black dragon’s maw, vying to swallow him whole. Fleeing was a coward’s tactic, but even a knight couldn’t duel a tidal wave. The ground level would soon be sea level - his only way out was up.
Tambien sprung onto a stone wall, nearly plowing through it with his armored body. He skittered up its surface as the breaking wave broke everything below him. Water washed through the streets, sweeping away large trees, small businesses and average players.
With a creak and a croak, Tambein flopped across the rooftop.
“Master Valdi!” Tambien shouted. “You infernal dictator! How many players did you kill with that wave? Have you no regard for human life?”
Master Valdi lurked somewhere else in the city, likely shame-free and scott-free. Shit-talking Master Valdi was Tambien’s favorite pastime, especially when Master Valdi wasn’t around to retaliate. Gossip was unbefitting of a knight, especially gossip about one’s own king. But Master Valdi was an inadequate king, and Tambien felt like an inadequate knight.
He peeked over the roof’s edge - whitewater rapids weaved through every street, carrying away anything not fastened to the ground. That water would eventually drain, but until then, moving along rooftops would drain less stamina. Armored knights were bad at parkour, but they were far worse at swimming.
Tambien’s thoughts darkened as he leapt from roof to roof. This quest was a foolish endeavor, fraught with peril. And it wasn’t just his physical fortitude that concerned him; it was his mental constitution. There was nothing he hated more than being alone. No one else was here to converse or commiserate with; it was just him and his mind. And his thoughts. Those miserable, intrusive thoughts.
Inner demons were the only demons Tambien feared. With an ally’s presence, he could suppress or distract them, but they’d rise again later with greater strength and numbers. A “diseased mind” Haven doctors once told him. “PTSD” said a second opinion; Tambien didn’t even know what PTSD stood for. Prince Tambien Slays Dragons? That was his preferred definition. But whatever it was, comradery was the only cure, even if that cure was temporary.
Tambien collapsed on his metal haunches, silver strands of drool dripping from his gums. What kind of heroic knight was he? Winded by just a few rooftop leaps? Armor like his was better suited for the battlefield than track and field. One botched jump would deliver him to the concrete fifty feet below. Trader Town sanitation engineers would be cleaning his metal scrap for weeks; his goal was to save Trader Town lives, not make them harder.
GONG
It was a faint, yet fantastical sound. A calming chime that cleansed his mind, shedding light on the dark spots of his brain:
The belltower!
Tambien’s ultimate goal stood nearly a dozen rooftops away, like a shimmering lighthouse of hope in a foggy sea of fire. It rose higher than its structural peers, tall enough for anyone anywhere in the city to see.
Whenever that bell rang, a sacred message would follow - messages direct from the devs, or whoever happened to be up in the belltower at the time. News flashes. New flash sales. Or life-changing patch notes. Each message was critical and Tambien was convinced his message was critical too. Words had power, and the belltower was Tambien’s weapon of choice.
He smirked, reflecting on the first custom Belltower message he’d ever heard: it was a coarse voice that rang across the city, stating “Yarvan can eat his own farts.” The message confounded Tambien at the time. Who was Yarvan? And why would this Yarvin desire such a meal? Trader Town guards seemed rather curious as well; they captured a pteranoid atop the belltower, chaperoning him to the center of town for some public interrogation.
Tambien was only twelve years old when he watched those guards beat that pteranoid down - it was quite a sight for a child to see. There was a little bit of screaming and a whole lot of blood; it was awesome! In another six years, Tambien could see stuff like this all the time. But in the meantime, he’d have to wait for his sister to go off partying. On this particular occasion, she’d left her computer running unattended - better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
That was Tambien’s first day in Zero Space, and it changed his world forever. Trader Town was a sunny place, full of lush greenery and scenery; it was the polar opposite of the Haven. He’d wandered for hours, letting the cool breeze tickle his flesh, breathed in the industrial air, and sampled the finest cuisine his sister’s rep points could buy.
And everyone was so friendly too! His sister’s character featured “dramaticized” physical proportions that certain players found “desirable.” Tambien failed to see the appeal, but he enjoyed being treated like a king. Or a queen, more aptly. Players escorted him around town, discussed subjects he pretended to understand, and bought him all sorts of foul tasting beverages that made him feel funny. Everyone was welcoming and warm - far different than the callous and cold denizens of the Haven. These people didn’t look human, but they had more humanity than anyone he knew. They were their true selves, acting in their true element. They became his true friends. And in that moment, Trader Town became his true home.
His sister had suddenly jostled him back to reality, ripping off his headset hard enough to snap its wires. Her expression was inimitable; Tambien had tried to reproduce it for hours in front of a mirror that night - her eyes bulged, her cheeks turned red, and her lips pursed like she’d been holding in a burp for hours. The words she used were equally foul. Sharp, piercing words that cut deep. Tambien cried. His sister cried. And then the two of them hugged it out. Zero Space contained neat friends, but the Haven had family - his real birth-sister; that was a rarity in the Haven. In a few years, Tambien would have Zero Space friends of his own, but for now, his sister was all he had in the world.
She came home drunker than usual that night. And she’d brought something with her too - a paper cup full of black pills. Tambien hated pills, especially the ones the doctors gave him for his brain; they were murder on his tastebuds. But these pills seemed nastier than most. They smelled like vinegar and peered at him like parasitic insect eyes, blacker than the infinite sleet beyond Haven windows.
It would have been so easy to throw those pills away. Flush them from existence. Stomp them into obsidian jelly, pop them like bubble wrap between his fingers, or flatten them with a hardcover novel. Even to this day, Tambien brainstormed new ways to obliterate those pills. It wasn’t his fault; that’s what he assured himself. How could a child know what those pills were capable of? But somehow, kid-Tambien knew. An intense gut feeling that blared within Tambien’s brain. But Tambien tuned it out, settling into slumber.
When Tambien awoke, those pills were gone, and so was his sister. Enforcers discovered her in the hallway just outside, and Tambien discovered her soon after. She lay face up, pale fleshed and wide eyed. Her pupils were big black spheres; the same shape and size as those god forsaken pills. “OD-d” an enforcer said. “Deserter,” another called her. Tambien didn’t know what those words meant. All he knew was yesterday, he had his sister, and today, she was gone –
Tambien screamed into the ashen sky, slapping his metal visor with a heavy tentacle.
“Focus Tambien,” said Tambien to himself. “Your task is at hand. Do not get distracted! Steady your mind. Stay your course!”
Tambien growled, launching into a sprint. He catapulted between buildings, slid across steep stone ridges, and bounded from spire to spire. His metal feet glided across a balcony railing, diving through one window and spiraling out another. Kicking off a wall, Tambien soared fifteen feet through the air, rocketing and rolling to a stop.
He huffed, lying flat across a large round roof. At last, real progress! Maybe those horrific memories were a blessing in disguise. Anger energized him, driving him half the distance in one mad dash; hopefully he could find an alternate fuel source.
Tambien glanced around the rounded roof. This looked like some sort of auditorium or arena. Maybe it was one of those loud clubs all the kids were into. Clubs weren’t Tambien’s thing; he was more of a lance-guy. And clubbers didn’t want Tambien’s protection; they rarely used protection.
THUNK THUNK THUNK
Ten fire demons landed before Tambien, arranged like wooden ducks in a shooting gallery. Tambien smirked beneath his visor - these guys were all bark and almost no bite; Tambien’s armor would surely withstand any bite they had.
“Cowardly foes,” said Tambien. “You strike in numbers, yet the odds remain in my favor. Draw your weapons!”
The fire demons drew what Tambien perceived to be oversized dinnerware. Five knives. Four forks. And a mace that looked suspiciously spoon-like.
Tambien smirked within his visor.
“You wish to feast on my flesh,” said Tambien. “But you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.”
The fire demons clustered up into a neat little demon bundle.
“Farewell, my fiery foes,” said Tambien. “Back to the underworld with you!”
Tambien raised his lance.
“FURY STRIKES!!”
There was a disquieting silence and a distinct lack of lances mincing monster meat. Tambien’s tentacles grew stiff, gripping his trembling weapon like a broken-off lever. Each demon tilted its head in turn, confused and mildly disappointed.
“Y-You fell for my feint,” said Tambien. “Now, I shall fell you for real!”
Tambien cleared his throat and his mind.
“FURY STRIKES!!”
His lance cast out again like a fishing hook without bait, and was equally effective. Not one demon met the end of his weapon. It remained extended, as if waiting to shake someone’s hand.
Sweat leaked out from crevices in Tambien’s armor. Why wasn’t his SP working? Maybe he was choking in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was a glitch. Or maybe –
No –
Tambien was out of SP.
His breath stalled - how could he be so careless? Most Zero Space encounters required him to go for broke. They were swift skirmishes or rapid raids - it was always all or nothing, and Tambien went all out. But these wizards weren’t a sprint - they were a marathon. One last major hurdle, and Tambien ran his chances into the ground. Ten fire demons were far more terrifying with zero SP and allies.
The demons closed in - Tambien’s cries and custom message would never be heard. No one would tell his story: the tragedy of a brave and noble knight, picked apart by the weapons of ten grinning hellspawn –
No.
Tambien had to succeed.
Countless people counted on him. Ten fire demons couldn’t stop him. Ten thousand couldn’t impede him. Ten million couldn’t – actually, Tambien was getting carried away. But his crusade was sacred. He’d defy the gods, his fate, or any unholy force that stood in his way.
His visor lowered, concealing a sharp toothy grin.
“Come then, ignoble foes,” said Tambien. “Have at thee!”
The fire demons accepted Tambien’s challenge. Dust and ash sifted from their stampeding feet. Black smoke fumed from their jack o'lantern smiles, veiling their bloody burning eyes.
Tambien’s lance stretched out like an evening shadow. One, two, three fire demons met its peak. This battle was a question of range, and Tambien’s lance was the correct answer.
SLICE
A serrated knife edge sawed through Tambien’s side, spreading his blood like butter. The fire demon culprit licked blood from its blade, developing a taste for Tambien.
“A treacherous backstab,” said Tambien. “You remind me of my friend Parper.”
Tambien fed that fire demon his lance, bobbing between two more hungry forks. A third fork dug into his thigh, spilling his blood like spaghetti sauce over metal macaroni.
“Another sneaky hit,” said Tambien. “You have a leg up. But one leg is all I need!”
Tambien dove into the fire demon crowd, head-butting one; his metal butt meeting another’s head. He rolled into a flip. Spinning. Kicking. Stabbing. Slapping out with his metal tentacles. A titanium tornado, wielding a whirlwind of weapons, funneling through five fiery foes. Heads rolled. Torsos tore. Spines unaligned. For just a moment, Tambien was in the zone. His role of defender upended; it felt good to be offensive for once.
And then, the giant spoon-mace descended –
GONG
Tambien’s lance rose to meet it, but the impact vibrated his whole body. Trembling metal pinched his skin like besieging army ants. A metallic echo rattled his bones, careening through his cartilage.
“You struck me like a bell,” said Tambien. “A noble blow, yet, I am no-bell –”
A knife cut off Tambien’s cheek, literally and figuratively. He tumbled back on his bad leg, spitting out too much blood. Tambien grinned - he couldn’t help it. Part of his face was missing, a permanent bloody smile, surgically engraved up to his ear.
Tambien half-scowled at the demon.
“An impressive hit,” said Tambien. “It will be your last.”
Three demons left, but Tambien was running out of blood and body parts. Zero Space players could survive on will alone, but enough pain could drain even the most stalwart knight.
Pale lightning flashed through the sky as Tambien roared, raising his lance to joust –
STAB
A fork rested in Tambien’s gut, detached from demon fingers. A demon threw it - that was the only explanation Tambien’s weary mind could offer. Cold metal prongs gouged his gut. Rust and iron rolled across his taste buds. He wanted to vomit, but he was afraid what might come out.
Tambien offered no witty retort this time.
Word-play-time was over.
With a sickly crackle, Tambien ripped out the fork.
He heaved it back –
CRUNCH
Two demons remained.
GONG
A metal spoon dug into Tambien’s head like a bowl of cereal.
For a second, Tambien saw nothing. Two seconds later, he saw stars. In three seconds, reality recalibrated, organizing swirling shapes and clouds of color into two fire demons, one with a knife and the other with a spoon. They grew larger, closer, until Tambien could smell the sulfur on their breath.
These demons were smart. Too smart. One more blow like that, and they’d be smarter than Tambien. He peered into their charcoal pupils - those glossy glass eyes held sparks of hope, alight with a roaring flame of determination. Some great force drove these demons - a force greater than Zero Space code, or even Tambien’s code of honor. Their pupils held the same longing that squires gave knights, or beggars gave kings. Whatever dream these demons desired, it lay beyond Tambien.
Tambien gave them a gentle bow.
“I apologize, my honorable adversaries,” said Tambien. “We are naught but pawns on opposing sides of the same board, relinquishing control to the hands that –”
A demon’s knife poked a hole in Tambien’s argument –
STAB
The knife sat inches from Tambien’s face.
Tambien’s lance lay inches in the demon’s face.
One demon remained…
GONG
The spoon mace touched down, crushing Tambien’s helmet completely. Fluid flumed from his nostrils, carrying several teeth along for the ride. His brain felt like tapioca pudding and it looked like it too. Tambien’s visor shredded his snout like a cheese grater, layers of sheet metal folding over his eyes.
Tambien grunted one last defeated grunt.
His lance fell from his hands; he fell to his knees.
It was over.
All his pain.
All his sacrifice.
All for nothing.
The fire demon raised his spoon one last time –
GONG
The spoon crashed down upon Tambien’s tentacles. His armored arms stretched firm above his head, intercepting the spoon mid-flight. Fractures fissured across his tentacles. Numbing, tingling, stinging pain spread through his arms, across his chest and up his spine. But pain didn’t matter. What mattered is that Tambien caught the spoon, and in turn, he caught the demon.
Tambien’s helmet disassembled, unveiling two oversized tentacloid eyes, large flared nostrils, and a rounded off axolotl snout. Chunks of fragmented metal spread across his skull, jutting like chips in fleshy guacamole.
“You fought bravely, my friend,” said Tambien.
Tambien hoisted the squealing demon into the air.
“Now die bravely!”
Tambien lobbed the demon from the rooftops. The demon plummeted fifty five feet, screeching like an infant during take off. It touched down to a frolicking fanfare of sparks and ash, boiling blood graffitiing every building in a twenty foot radius. A brass spoon bounded across concrete, rattling, rolling, teetering, then tottering to a stop.
Victory!
But Tambien’s satisfaction was short-lived. He was once again alone on the rooftops with his pain and his thoughts. Those thoughts were jumbled and broken, just like his arms, leg, torso and face. Each injury added up, and the sum was greater than his parts.
Tambien didn’t stand a chance - he could barely stand at all. Why bother continuing? Most of his limbs were out of commission, and that belltower was still so far away. He was drained. Disheartened. Despondent. One person couldn’t make a difference in Zero Space, especially a miserable tentacloid poser like him.
Tambien ran on empty.
And yet –
He ran.
No healers, magical powers, or divine forces were coming to save him. This wasn’t a fairy tale –
This was Tambien’s tale. And he demanded a happy ending!
His body mocked the effort. Each step was soul-sucking; each leap was soul-rending. All that clunky armor weighed heavy on his heart. Simple movements became complex choreography, his misery multiplied by each layer of armor.
That armor –
Could Tambien really do without it?
Tambien perished the thought, but it returned with an army of nagging notions, overwhelming his mind. His armor had been with him since his very first Zero Space days. Would he still be a knight without it? “Dress for the job you want.” That’s what Master Valdi would say. Most jobs that required Tambien to dress down, he deemed “reprehensible.” Knight armor offered more than protection; it was a symbol of hope. Salvation for his allies and ruination for his enemies.
He thought back to the first suit of armor he’d ever seen: enforcer armor. Bulky, loose, and a hideous shade-of yellow; he assumed the color was more functional than aesthetic - a sickly shade of saffron that overshadowed any other outfit in a crowd. “Haven Knights,” young Tambien called them. Defenders of justice, and eradicators of evil. But after his sister’s passing, Tambien saw them as soldiers - servants of some malevolent system, cold, cruel and detached.
So imagine young Tambien’s surprise the day he opened the door to a large brawny enforcer. The enforcer was nearly six feet tall, brandishing a well-polished six-shooter and a well-defined six-pack. “Adam,” the enforcer called himself. He was there for some sort of “big brother” program that was supposed to teach enforcers “empathy.” But if Haven leadership had any real empathy, they wouldn’t have been so quick to replace his sister. Tambien was almost thirteen; he could take care of himself.
Adam immediately crashed on Tambien’s couch. His first priority was eating Tambien’s snacks, and his second was hogging Tambien’s bathroom. He slept most of the day and when he woke, he was generally unresponsive. Tambien didn’t want him there, and Adam clearly didn’t want to be there either.
One day, “friends” of Tambien’s sister came to visit. They knocked twice, then nearly knocked Tambien over when he opened the door. Their words were slurred and centered around one subject: collecting rep points from Tambien’s sister. Since his sister was no longer around, they demanded that Tambien deliver. An “honor debt,” they called it, though Tambien failed to discern the “honor.”
Then Adam emerged from the bathroom. Without lifting a single finger, those “friends” were scared into submission. Tambien never saw those “friends” again, but from that point forward, he saw much more of Adam. They ate food together, played board games, and talked late into the night. Adam had an obsession for fantasy novels, and soon, Tambien did too. Fantasy novels were Adam’s only escape; enforcers weren’t allowed to play Zero Space for some reason.
Tambien day-dreamed of someday having a big suit of armor, just like Adam. In his perfect world, he’d be an honorable knight, much like the stories. Adam lacked the grace, dignity and posture of those epic tales, but Tambien idolized him regardless. He was more than a role model or a guardian. Adam became his “big brother,” just like the program advertised.
One night, Adam came home more exhausted than usual. A “static breach” he proclaimed, before sprawling across the couch. Minutes later, Tambien saw something strange on the floor: something fuzzy, gray, and scampering across the ground like a tiny octopus mouse. It was about the size of Tambien’s foot and would have fit snugly underneath it. Or under a heavy book. Or beneath a chair leg. There were a hundred things that Tambien could have crushed it with, but instead, he went to bed. “Nothing more than a weird household pest,” he thought; Adam could deal with it in the morning.
In the morning, Tambien found Adam sleeping with one eye open. The other eye was absent, along with the right side of his face. What remained swelled up like a ripe purple grape. Bulging blue veins blossomed from his bloated face, green webs of snot leaking from a single nostril.
Enforcers were quick to arrive. “A static creature,” they whispered. “Some monster from outside.” Adam inadvertently brought his work home with him that night and Tambien could have easily crushed it underfoot.
But he didn’t.
His inaction cost him more than a big brother; it cost him his lifestyle. Enforcers quarantined his unit; whatever ate Adam’s face still lingered in some hidden corner, waiting to eat more faces. In a single day, Tambien fell from floor fifteen to eleven. And from that night forward, Tambien was alone. No more big sister. No more big brother. Just a few anti-social unit mates and the annual Haven cleaning crew –
Tambien slapped himself with a metal tentacle.
“Focus, Tambien,” Tambien said to himself. “Please, focus!”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
A seven foot leap between rooftops lay ahead. All the armor in the world wouldn’t save him from that fall, but it would certainly increase the odds of him falling. Could Tambien abandon his armor without abandoning his cause? He took a deep breath, then nodded - it wasn’t the armor that defined the knight; it was the squishy little person inside.
His tentacles tore at two straps on his shoulders. With a jiggle and a rattle, his chestplate toppled to the ground. Then his leggings. Finally, his tentacle bracers clattered, jiggling like wilting earthworms. The smell was unholy; it was the culmination of ten thousand hours of battle. Sweat, blood, and other indiscernible fluids dripped down this body like tree sap, producing a putrid perfume.
Was Tambien always this scrawny? His arms dangled like rat tails, wagging above a rounded potbelly and pale turkey legs. Comments from other players on this replay would be merciless. But Tambien felt a sense of freedom he’d lost years ago - the freedom to adhere to more than one specific role. The freedom to feel the hot air around him, juxtaposed against the smooth breeze.
The freedom to move.
Near-naked Tambien easily cleared that seven foot jump, even with a single functional foot. Brittle clay cracked below his body as he tumbled across the roof of a small house; he hoped that cracking sound wasn’t his bones. Somehow, Tambien and the house remained standing. The Belltower loomed just ahead, merely a hop, skip and a jump away. Or to be precise: five hops, three jumps, and an unknown quantity of skips.
THUNK THUNK THUNK
Tambien’s heart sank, along with part of the roof.
Five fire demons rose behind him, wielding two knives, two forks, and a spork-like mace.
Tambien performed a gentle bow.
“Forgive me, dear foes,” said Tambien. “But discretion is the better part of valor.”
Tambien bailed.
It was a dishonorable move - a move that the Tambien from five minutes ago wouldn’t have considered. But he was a different person now; he certainly looked like one. Jagged roofing sliced his soles. Smoke-stacks smacked his tentacles. Five fire demons screeched behind him, bearing grisly gifts.
This was his first time fleeing from combat since his Zero Space inauguration. Tentacloids were considered a low-tier race; he played one to be different, but other players didn’t like different. They chased him around. Terrorized him. Beat him up for no good reason, and the occasional mediocre reason. Zero Space would have been a living hell, if not for Saber.
If not for Saber –
For Saber –
Saber –
Tambien slapped himself with a tentacle.
“No,” said Tambien. “Anything but that. Focus, Tambien. Focus!”
But Tambien’s brain had its own agenda, surfacing its poisonous propaganda whenever Tambien was alone. Physical and psychological pain collaborated, threatening to tear down Tambien’s mental wall.
Tambien winced –
Then leapt –
Two more rooftops…
The next building was a long one - “a few hundred feet,” Tambien guesstimated. This was probably a hotel, though no one actually slept in these things. Rooms here were rented out for parties, PVP, and certain activities Tambien considered “unknightly.” He was never much of a party-person; he preferred adventuring parties.
Saber on the other hand - now he was a partier. Tambien rarely saw Saber outside of raves and raids. That dragonoid was always dancing, sliding his scaly fingers up someone’s skirt, or down someone’s pants –
Tambien slapped his own head.
“No,” Tambien whimpered again. “Focus. Focus!”
This elongated rooftop permitted plenty of room for Tambien’s body and brain to wander. He ruminated on his sister, and his big brother Adam - anything but Saber. “Substitute one pain with another.” That was Tambien’s strategy.
Tambien’s feet took flight, but his mind remained disobedient, physical and mental anguish bounced around his skull like an echo-chamber. Bits of bone scratched at his brain. Black blood dripped from his nostrils. Strange pains radiated from within - the injuries Tambien couldn’t see scared him the most. Fire demon footsteps and screeches grew distant. Everything spun - the rooftop, the tattered town beyond it, and the belltower in the distance, swirled and swerved like a radiant dust devil –
“Tambien,” said a voice to his side.
Tambien glanced over –
Running alongside him was a boyish blue dragonoid, as tall as the character creator would allow. Keen cerulean eyes glowed above a cheshire grin. What mischief and malice awaited beyond that mysterious smile? Tambien had never been able to decipher it, even after fifteen years.
Tambien gasped –
“Saber?” asked Tambien. “N-No. It’s not possible –”
“It sure looks possible, bud,” said Saber. “I’m right here.”
“Y-You must be some sort of phantom,” said Tambien. “A malicious machination –”
“Call me whatever you want, bud,” said Saber.
Tambien drew near the building’s edge.
“P-Perhaps you are a hallucination,” said Tambien. “My mind hallucinates such things in the Haven, but that couldn’t possibly happening here –”
“I wouldn’t rule it out, bud,” said Saber. “You got hit in the head pretty hard, not gonna lie.”
Saber dove over the far end of the building with the practiced precision of a seasoned thief.
“Don’t worry about what I am, bud,” said Saber. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
A drunken smile weaved across Tambien’s lips.
“Yes,” said Tambien. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
Tambien peered back at five furious fire demons, their blackened bones rattling like ill-fitting guard armor.
“Look at ‘em go, bud,” said Saber. “It’s just like when we got chased by guards. You really gonna let those pigs catch you?”
Tambien grinned, then supermanned over an alley of fire. He touched down chest-first, busting his belly open across the ridge of a gothic rooftop.
“Damn Tambien!” said Saber. “That was almost cool, not gonna lie.”
The five fire demons hesitated. That was a hell of a leap, even for demons. Sure, they had wings, but they seemed reluctant to use them. It was a glaring AI-plothole; Tambien certainly wouldn’t be the one to point it out.
Saber rubbed Tambien’s potbelly for good luck.
“Hey bud,” said Saber. “Where’s all that armor I helped you pick out?”
“I relieved myself of it,” said Tambien. “An undignified, yet essential maneuver.”
“Ah, dang, that armor really sets you apart,” said Saber. “I told you: you wanna win Zero Space? You gotta stand out. And that whole knight thing you’ve got going on? It really works for you, not gonna lie.”
Five fire demons attempted to mimic Tambien’s jump. Four performed successful imitations. A fifth imitated the dirt eighty feet below.
Tambien nodded to Saber.
“Forgive me, old friend,” said Tambien. “We’ll carry on this conversation later.”
“Sure, bud,” said Saber. “I got nothing else to do.”
Tambien flipped over two slashing knives, kicked off a chimney, then dove between the legs of a water tower. Several players watched him from below, fending off fiery demons and rats. Each player met an unfortunate end; Tambien promised himself that these players would be the last to suffer.
In one more leap, Tambien would be upon the belltower. Its structure swayed like the climax of a block stacking game, barely able to support its own weight. Would it support Tambien’s? The monolithic edifice was devoid of doors and windows; Tambien was quite convinced it was hollow inside. There was only one way up - along the outside. Only the most dedicated players would ever reach its peak.
Saber shook his head.
“You really going up that, bud?” asked Saber.
“Alas, I have no choice in the matter,” said Tambien.
“You always did make poor choices,” said Saber.
“We made them together, my friend,” said Tambien.
With a deep breath, Tambien sprang onto the belltower wall, puncturing it like a dark goblin’s claws. Foot by foot, tentacle by tentacle, grip by grip, Tambien scaled its granite walls, focused on that big bright bell at the apex.
Three fire demons attached themselves to the wall below him. A fourth fell short, falling a long way onto a picket fence that picked it apart.
Saber climbed alongside him.
“I bet this takes you back, huh bud?” asked Saber.
Tambien bit his lip, focusing on each new grip. It was hard enough to climb with bare hands; bare tentacles made it that much harder.
Saber sat on a stone gargoyle’s head.
“Remember our first custom message?” asked Saber. “It was like, attention Trader Town, the Blue Stars are the greatest guild in Zero Space. Eat our dicks. Or something like that.”
“I believe it was eat our assholes, actually,” said Tambien. “I regret our juvenile crudeness.”
“Aw, you were way more fun when you were crude,” said Saber. “Your knight thing’s cool, but you take it way too far. I get it - you’re playing a character. But I miss my chubby little tentacloid buddy, not gonna lie.”
Tambien held back a smirk, holding a stone gargoyle’s leg.
“The guards certainly prefer my knight persona,” said Tambien. “They didn’t seem to enjoy our custom messages.”
“Don’t think the guards are gonna stop you today, bud,” said Saber.
Tambien sprang to a higher ledge. A fire demon’s knife missed his leg, decapitating the stone gargoyle. The stone head face-planted in the fire demon’s face, crushing its coal skull.
Two more fire demons stayed hot on Tambien’s heels.
Saber lay across a thin ledge, yawning as pale lightning streaked past his horns.
“Hey bud,” said Saber. “You keep in touch with any of the old crew? Maril? Kayber? Ellaison?”
“Alas, I do not,” said Tambien. “Master Valdi keeps me busy.”
“Bud, that Deadly Skulls crew is whack, not gonna lie,” said Saber. “The Blue Stars were the best damn guild in Zero Space. All other guilds could eat our dicks. Or was it assholes? Man, I forget what we said again –”
“Yes, we had the greatest guild,” said Tambien. “It was the greatest time I ever had.”
“We could have had a lot more, bud,” said Saber. “A whole lot more.”
Tambien’s gaze grew soft, the smile deteriorating from his lips.
White lightning struck the belltower’s peak, shaking its very foundation. Fissures formed along its granite neck, threatening to slit it wide open. Smoke and flame erupted from its ruptures. One explosion nearly took out Tambien’s right tentacle. Another took out the right-most demon.
Tambien’s head spun from the sudden burst of heat, his tentacles squeezing a spire like a childhood stuffed animal.
Saber stood within a plume of smoke, his outline obscured by smothering smog.
“You know bud, I’ve had a lot of time to think,” said Saber. “I’m always the one that came up with the plans. And you’re always the one that ruined them.”
“Your plans were idiotic,” said Tambien.
“My plans were fun!” said Saber. “Zero Space is a game. You’re supposed to have fun.”
“Our definitions of fun differ,” said Tambien. “Your fun had consequences.”
“Good games have stakes,” said Saber. “You were just afraid to play. You chickened out.”
Brittle bricks broke below Tambien’s foot.
“Reflect on your own words,” said Tambien. “I fought your battles for you. You fled from every fight.”
“You ran from the only fight that mattered!” shouted Saber. “The one time I needed you. Where were you?”
Tambien swung sideways as flaming debris jettisoned past his body.
“The stakes were too high,” said Tambien. “It was a fool’s gamble. And you were a gambling fool.”
“It was a safe bet!” said Saber. “I put all my chips on you. You were the best fighter in the guild. We could have won that damn tournament. Why did you bail?”
“There were too many rep points on the line,” said Tambien. “It was all we had. And plenty we didn’t have.”
“That tournament was our future!” yelled Saber. “We could have got to floor twenty! Floor thirty, maybe!”
Streaks of fire showered past Tambien’s shoulder.
“Pray tell, where did that tournament actually get you?” said Tambien. “Floor five?”
“We all got put on floor five!” screamed Saber. “Everyone but you. Poached by Master Valdi and his crew of miserable fuck-ups. You abandoned us.”
Tambien choked, his tentacles pressing down too firm on an unsteady ledge.
Smoke obscured Saber, concealing all but his cobalt eyes.
“You could have stopped me!” yelled Saber. “But no! You just let me throw everything we had out the window.”
“Your guild and impulses were your own to regulate,” said Tambien.
“I didn’t have all the facts,” said Saber. “But you did! You knew what I was walking into. You wanted to punish me. You wanted me to suffer!”
Tambien’s eyes fluttered as ash scattered across his face.
“Yeah bud, I was reckless,” said Saber. “I was a shit guild leader. But you were my best friend. I trusted you. A king is only as strong as his council - that’s some bullshit you’d say.”
Tambien planted his tentacles around a stone ledge, redistributing his weight with careful foot placement.
“I am not at fault!” Tambien shouted.
“We’re both at fault!” said Saber. “You could have stopped me. But you didn’t. You just watched me fuck us over!”
Saber’s eyes widened into glowing blue tunnels to nowhere.
“I’m everything you’re not,” said Saber. “And you’re everything I’m not. That’s why we were a great team. If you want to blame me, you gotta blame yourself too –”
“I do blame myself, Saber,” Tambien cried. “I blame myself every day.”
The ledge loosened beneath Tambien’s tentacles.
“Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you,” said Tambien. “Or the Blue Stars. Or Adam. Or my sister. Nothing in Zero Space or the Haven can replace you. Nothing.”
The ledge cracked –
“I wish you were all here with me,” said Tambien. “I wish it every day. But all I can do is imagine you by my side. You’re naught but a cruel memory. A ghost!”
Tambien leapfrogged to a higher elevation. His previous ledge uprooted, plummeting into a lake of fire.
“No one else will suffer from my negligence,” said Tambien. “If there’s something I can do, I’ll do it. I promise you, Saber. I promise all of you.”
Saber’s stare softened as he stalked along the shadowy side of the tower.
“I’m sorry, bud,” said Saber. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I hate fighting with you.”
Sandstone soot sprayed across Tambien’s face like burnt toast cologne. His body and mind shook with the belltower, unstable and ready to collapse.
“Tambien,” said Saber. “I-I’m going to leave for a while.”
“No, please, Saber,” said Tambien. “Cease this infernal script you recite. I know your next words - please, don’t say them. P-Please, I beg you –”
“You think Haven death is like Zero Space death?” asked Saber. “You think we just float around and spectate, watching everyone else live their lives?”
“Saber, stop,” said Tambien. “I can’t go through this again. Please, you tormentous phantom. For all the gods, make it stop –”
“I bet it’s like dreaming,” said Saber. “Remember dreams? I stopped dreaming when we started playing Zero Space. Do you still dream, Tambien?”
Tambien screamed, slamming his tentacle against the wall. A large chunk of belltower toppled, burying a crowd of passing players.
“Maybe it’s just darkness,” said Saber. “That’s what happens when I dream now. Just darkness. Honestly, I’ll take darkness over floor five.”
Flames erupted from the tower’s top in a volcanic spray. Heat waves rolled over Tambien’s cheeks, embroidering them with ashen tattoos.
“Have fun with the Deadly Skulls,” said Saber. “Sounds like a pretty kick-ass crew. I’m sure they’re way better than us.”
Tambien’s tentacle snagged the belfry’s edge. Just one more push, and –
A fiery demon hand snatched Tambien’s heel, attempting to tear him from the tower.
Tambien glanced down - Saber’s burning blue eyes peered back up, his fingers shackled around Tambien’s ankle.
“Don’t forget about me, Tambien,” said Saber. “Don’t forget about the Blue Stars, the most kick-ass guild of all time.”
Tambien’s mind set ablaze, alight with an inferno of colors, shapes and thoughts. Thoughts of his sister. Thoughts of Adam. Thoughts of Saber –
Thoughts of Parper.
Thoughts of Bez. Kezzle. Dalli. Umi. Bowman. Auron. Shae. Even Syadd. With a deep breath, Tambien focused on the present moment, centering his past views into a single focused vision of the future.
Tambien looked down at Saber.
“I’ll never forget you, my friend,” said Tambien. “I’ll never forget any of you.”
Tambien’s eyes blazed.
“But I won’t let you hold me back either.”
Tambien slammed his sole into Saber’s face – the foot nailed the fire demon, dislodging it from his heel. The demon shrieked, thrashing and gnashing as it vanished into a vaporous void of smoke and smog.
With one more grunt, Tambien hoisted himself over the belfry’s edge, squirming like a beached whale across its marble floor. His journey was finally at an end. By his estimations, the tower would survive another few minutes; plenty of time - he needed only seconds to catch his breath.
His nostrils flared, inhaling a mouthful of mesquite mist. It slid down his throat like a waterslide, ping-ponging between both lungs. Tambien gagged, hacking a pitch black loogie into the inferno below –
Whoa –
He could see all of Trader Town from up here: Smith’s giant spinning windmill in the distance. Flocks of players stalking the street, fleeing from one desperate situation to another. And a strange sight in the sky –
Tambien did a double take –
A small orange figure flew around up there - it sure looked a lot like Asira. And what was she fighting? Some gigantic alien spaceship? It was a massive wheel with four serpentine heads, skipping frames as is rendered in claymation.
Asira buzzed around like a mosquito seeking unprotected flesh as the monster’s pale beams punctured the sky. There was an understated violence in Asira’s movements and an overstated fury in her distant expression; it was the angriest Tambien had ever seen her. She was leading that monster somewhere and Tambien prayed he wasn’t on her warpath.
He turned back to the bell, reciting a practiced speech under his tongue. His mind and objective was clear: it was time to hit that big bell. Cast a message across all of Trader Town - a message that could save the world, assuming he didn’t screw it up.
With two trembling tentacles, Tambien ripped a giant mallet from an indentation on the wall. Twirling on his good leg, Tambien arced the mallet into the bell’s sound bow –
GONG
An icy resonance resounded through the belfry, submerged Tambien’s body in sapphire steam. Blue mist tickled his bare flesh, flowing like a broken fog machine into his lungs and the atmosphere beyond. His next words would be heard by everyone in Trader Town, and almost everyone in Sunlight Forest.
Tambien cleared his throat - Trader Town heard that too.
“Attention, Trader Town,” said Tambien.
Trader Town grew quiet as Tambien’s words echoed through its streets. Player eyes emerged from every window, doorway and alley, each aimed up at that golden bell.
“My name is Tambien,” said Tambien. “I am an ambassador of the Deadly Skulls. We’re the guild responsible for this wizard invasion. And we’re the only guild that can stop it.”
Tambien’s tentacles trembled. This was a grander audience than he had ever performed for; he had to get this just right.
“The Fire Wizard is invulnerable to everyone but us,” said Tambien. “If you remain in Trader Town, you will die. And if you flee to Sunlight Forest, you will likely die. It is imperative that you survive. Too many deaths will result in server-wide annihilation.”
The floor cracked below Tambien. He crouched down, attempting to hold himself and the belltower together.
“There is a single place of safety,” said Tambien. “The catacombs beneath Trader Town. The subterranean rats have surfaced, leaving it abandoned. Evacuate there immediately and remain until this world event is over.”
The belltower crackled like thunder, tremors reverberating through its brittle frame.
“Depart with haste,” said Tambien. “The catacombs are a damp dark place. If the fire demons follow, they will be easy to see, and easier to defeat.”
Figures emerged from all across Trader Town. Dragonoids. Pteranoids. Humanoids. Tentacloids. Puppoids. Innumerable players. More than Tambien anticipated.
“Any manhole in the city will take you to the catacombs,” said Tambien. “There are entrances in the basement of every public building. Proceed with haste. The fate of Zero Space depends on it.”
A cage of flames rose around Tambien, trapping him in a fiery prison.
Tambien smirked, and closed his eyes.
“Remember me, my friends,” said Tambien. “Live on, and we’ll make many more memories together. Farewell, for now.”
The blue mist dispersed, leaving Tambien alone with his thoughts.
He watched from up high as herds of people flocked to brighter pastures, spreading into the streets and battling back demons and rats. Makeshift teams raided restaurants, stormed storefronts, and invaded inns, seeking the secret basements within. Stronger players flipped off manhole covers for weaker players, shepherding them into their darkened depths.
All of Trader Town, united by a few choice words –
United by Tambien.
He fell back against the belfry, making snow angels in the soot. Flames fried his feet and falling stones tore open his tentacles, but Tambien didn’t feel a thing. His pain and trauma subsided as he stared into a hole in the sky, created by that giant wheel-monster’s laser. For just a moment, Tambien saw the sun, still shining bright behind a thick wall of smoke and storm.
Saber reclined beside him, staring into the sky.
“You did it, bud,” said Saber. “Not gonna lie, you probably just saved a whole lot of people. You really take this knight thing seriously.”
“I didn’t choose to be a knight,” said Tambien. “The knight’s path chose me.”
“Uh huh,” said Saber. “Whatever you say, bud.”
Tambien gave Saber a sly smirk.
“Also,” said Tambien. “I’m certain the replays will be glorious.”
Saber laughed, the belltower bellowing below him.
“I knew it,” said Saber. “You just want to be famous. Noble knight, my scaly ass.”
Tambien chuckled.
“Alas, I am naught but a squire,” said Tambien. “A pale imitation of you, my sister, and my big brother. I am forever living in your shadows –”
“Bud, ease up on the knight-speak,” said Saber. “It’s just us now.”
Tambien bit his lip.
“Yes, it’s a habit,” said Tambien. “We play characters for the replays - we’re never truly alone. Other players watch and judge. Replays gain notoriety. Notoriety brings fame. Fame grants rep points. And rep points lead to a better life.”
Tambien leaned his head against his tentacles.
“I don’t know what happens once that life ends,” said Tambien. “Maybe it’s just darkness. Or maybe we spectate, like Zero Space. But I live everyday like you’re all watching.”
Tambien stared into Saber’s bright blue eyes.
“You were my protectors,” said Tambien. “My guardians. My knights. You shaped my world. I wanted to be just like you; I-I wanted to shape worlds too.”
Tambien reached for Saber; he lay just out of reach.
“I’ve finally done it,” said Tambien. “I’ve shaped the world - not in my image, but in your own. Your sacrifices were not in vain – I just wanted you to know that. I-I wish you could see it. I wish you could be here with me.”
“Of course we’re with you, bud,” said Saber. “I’m right here next to you!”
Tambien chuckled.
“Yes, as a ghost,” said Tambien. “Naught but a bittersweet memory.”
“I dunno, bud,” said Saber. “I look pretty real to me!”
Tambien chuckled.
“That’s not possible I’m afraid,” said Tambien. “Saber is dead. You look like Saber, but you move like a phantom.”
“I can’t help the way I look or move, bud,” said Saber. “Maybe I’m not as dead as you think!”
Tambien’s smile softened.
“Perhaps not,” said Tambien. “Or perhaps my brain deceives me once more. I must consult a neutral third party.”
“Do what you gotta do, bud,” said Saber.
Tambien tapped the tip of his tentacle, rewinding a replay to his belltower ascent. A transparent screen floated in mid-air, playing back a 720p video of Tambien climbing.
And climbing next to him was a lanky blue dragonoid with a thief’s grin and a sniper’s eyes –
“N-No,” said Tambien. “This can’t be. How could this possibly be?”
Tambien peered into Saber’s pearl pupils.
“S-Saber, could it really be you?” asked Tambien. “After all this time?”
“Could be, bud,” said Saber. “Or I could be something else entirely.”
Icy chills circulated through Tambien’s bloodstream.
“W-What are you, Saber?” asked Tambien. “What could you possibly be?”
Saber’s eyes gleamed with a glossy blue sheen.
“I’m just Saber, bud,” said Saber.
He grinned with sharp dragonoid teeth.
“Just your old pal, Saber.”
Tambien’s bare flesh paled.
CRACK
The golden bell finally fell, shrouding Tambien and Saber in a smothering smokescreen. Segment by segment, layer by layer, the belltower collapsed, producing one final gong as its dust unfurled through the city, consuming every building, every demon, every rat, and every player still outside.
[THE HAVEN]
DD’s finger massaged a thin glass case. A knob sat within, parked next to the number 3. Forty seven numbers lay ahead, paving the way to its final destination.
DD tilted his head towards a glowing monitor:
Total Players in Barrier: 79,826
Total Active Players in Barrier: 35,122
44% Barrier Integrity
His fingers rhythmically rapped the glass case.
“Huh,” said DD. “I suppose something significant just happened in Zero Space.”
Lieutenant David maneuvered through DD’s cramped safe room, whispering to several enforcers individually. One by one, each enforcer nodded, then took their leave.
DD observed the monitor for many minutes.
Total Players in Barrier: 79,826
Total Active Players in Barrier: 35,117
44% Barrier Integrity
“Huh, 35,117 active players,” said DD. “Down from 35,122.”
DD’s brow furrowed as he studied for another sixty seconds:
Total Players in Barrier: 79,826
Total Active Players in Barrier: 35,106
44% Barrier Integrity
“Only eleven less players now,” said DD. “Huh. I suppose barrier Integrity has stabilized. And the player death rate has significantly diminished. What could have possibly happened?”
“No idea, DD,” said Lieutenant David. “That’s your jurisdiction.”
Lieutenant David nudged the last few enforcers out the door.
“Lieutenant David,” said DD. “Have you heard of the Azniax Theory of Community Conceivement?”
“I have no idea what that means, DD,” said Lieutenant David. “Are those words? Is that math? I don’t know math.”
“It’s an old design mantra,” said DD. “When faced with impossible adversity, players will overcome it in a way that developers couldn’t possibly predict.”
“That’s nice, DD,” said Lieutenant David.
DD shook his head.
“Our players have done it,” said DD. “I don’t know how, but I believe it’s happening right now. Azniax’s theory was correct.”
Lieutenant David locked the safe room door. Just him and DD now.
DD wiped shiny sweat from his bald spot.
Total Players in Barrier: 79,826
Total Active Players in Barrier: 35,115
44% Barrier Integrity
“Azniax was the original lead designer of Zero Space,” said DD. “He developed the rules that all servers follow.”
DD adjusted his tie.
“Game directors like me took a vow to Azniax,” said DD. “We swore not to get involved in the affairs of Zero Space. It’s our goal simply to make a fair and challenging game. The rest is up to the players.”
“Thrilling, DD,” said Lieutenant David.
“But I suppose Azniax isn’t here now,” said DD. “He’s never been here. He spoke to me when the static first appeared, then never again. Not even when our Haven was in dire need of his guidance.”
Lieutenant David stalked towards DD from behind.
“Azniax instructed me to let things play out in the Haven and Zero Space, regardless of the consequences,” said DD. “But I couldn’t do it. I touched that Haven dial, despite his instructions not to. I’ve already broken one promise to Azniax. I suppose it’s time for me to break another.”
“You broke a lot of promises today, DD,” said Lieutenant David.
DD adjusted his tie, still focused on the screen.
“I have a dev character,” said DD. “He’s overpowered. Strong enough to kill any monster in Zero Space. Yet here I am, idling while the people of the Haven suffer and die.”
DD tucked his shirt into his pants.
“But I will idle no longer, Lieutenant David,” said DD. “I’m going in there. Whatever is killing Zero Space players, I will personally deal with it.”
DD turned to Lieutenant David.
“Lieutenant David,” said DD. “Let us return to the dev floor. It’s time to –”
DD stopped mid-sentence. Lieutenant David held a bow the size of his torso, reeling back a bowstring housing a titanic glowing arrow.
“Sorry, DD,” said Lieutenant David. “But you’re gonna stay right here with me.”