Fuck, Matt thought.
The everywhere-pain coursed through limbs and the dissonant hum rose. He forced his eyes open, one millimeter at a time. It was blindingly bright. His eyelids resisted. Matt already knew what it would look like. He needed to move.
I fucking hate this place.
Matt squinted at his color-drained map. He was in a different location from before, just north of the camp. He hadn’t realized there was an obelisk here too. The golden yellow dot was southwest this time, near the mountain line. He’d head south of camp and retrace his steps.
Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why did it have to be this again? Why did it have to hurt? Why did it have that freaking noise?
Matt marched south for an hour, maybe two, maybe three? He couldn’t tell. He was a mess of emotions floating along a river of pain. He was angry, anxious, sad, ashamed, and ten other things he couldn’t name—all knotted and tangled together.
Matt was so focused on his strides that the rocky ground snuck up on him. He was going uphill before he noticed that he was overdue to veer west. When he realized where he was, he hesitated for just a moment, scanning the area for their shrine.
I thought it was around here somewhere…
Then he found the boulder and scrawny tree. The rocks they’d assembled had toppled, white flowers strewn about with the stones.
Matt instinctively moved towards it. He didn’t have Fallyn’s skills but he could try. He reached for a stone and his hand passed right through.
Of course, they go full-on ghost. Fuck. How did this happen so quickly?
Matt found his answer when he noticed that the locket and watch were gone. The pain was exhausting, and now this? It was the end of the world and the shitty people were the ones who survived. It wasn’t fair. So many good people—better people—had died.
Matt drudged ahead for an eternity more, making his way to the yellow dot, robbed of more time and faith in humanity.
Resurrect, he told the little black box.
Matt gasped as color rushed into the world. He scrunched his face against the high-pitched ring. He was a little steadier this time, hands strategically placed on his knees. The tone subsided. Then Matt straightened and adjusted his glasses.
It was sunny. The sky was blue. It was morning.
Fallyn, Kurtis, and Val were attacking two manny beetles in the blue grass just ahead. Arcane Bolts and Shadow Strike arrows blasted an impressive show. Pale purple mingled with dark, muted in the sunlight. The first bug dropped when it had barely flown to them. Then his friends turned on the second insect. Matt pulled his swords from his inventory, readying to help. But before he could get close enough, the second critter died.
Matt relaxed his grip. “Hey guys.”
“You made it!” Val smiled.
A week ago, Matt would have read that as cheer, but now he could tell she was forcing it. Her spark was dimmer than usual, hiding behind that tiara and pink hair.
Matt forced his face to return her smile. “Sorry, I got a little lost. How is it—”
A maelstrom of violet light pounded down on the group. Something clunked against the trashcan lid on Matt’s back.
His heads-up display flashed and he was instantly at half-health. The light burned like boiling liquid, seeping down from the sky. Matt tried to scream, tried to heal. He couldn’t move. Then a stranger was beside him—not a stranger.
“Got you, Spice Girl,” the boy taunted and struck with twin daggers.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Everything went black.
###
Fuuuuuuuck.
Matt wanted to cry. But he couldn’t because he was in the damn black-and-white place.
Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Fuck you gankers!
His body hurt so much. The cold fire pain flowed through every inch of every limb.
Holy fucking barbecue batman.
The dissonant tone thronged.
Fuck Aristotle and Socrates on a flying unicorn eating bread.
Squinting, Matt forced his feet to walk.
Fuck all you philosophers with your souls and temporary vessels. You know what? This fucking hurts. Philosophize that!
Left foot. Right foot. Matt was beyond livid.
Fuck FRC!
Left foot. Right foot.
Why does everything hurt so much…? The everywhere pain was exhausting.
Left foot. Right foot.
Prosperity and profits, my ass.
Left foot. Right foot.
Someone get Alanis so she can write a song that’s actually ironic. Lots of material here!
Left foot. Right foot.
It’s like super-advanced aliens, on a normal day,
Left foot. Right foot.
Fucking killed everyone by accident, and for bonus points now I’m see-through and gray.
Left foot. Right foot.
They had the tech to get to Earth and make this place.
Left foot. Right foot.
So, who would’ve thought? It figures… Fuck you! Matt punched the air with a ghostly fist.
Left foot. Right foot.
Great. I’m going insane.
By the time Matt reached his yellow dot and resurrected, several hours had passed and he was reasonably confident that their attackers had moved on. His interface said it was midday and the bright sun overhead confirmed. His nostrils picked up the faint smell of bacon.
“I hate gankers,” Kurtis said with a disgusted thump of his tail. “Don’t they get it? This isn’t a game.”
“Maybe they do get it,” Fallyn said, green diadem glinting. “And that’s the problem.”
Matt shot her a horrified stare.
Fallyn tucked brown waves behind her ears and said nothing more. She hooked her thumbs into the pockets of her black tactical vest and stared out across the grassy landscape.
“Well, I hate them with you.” Val put her hands on her waist.
The group hustled to the blue map marker attempting—yet again—to make it to Murl’s apprentice. Matt watched their left flank. Fallyn watched their right. They stayed quiet and Kurtis periscoped his ears. Val scanned ahead and would call out, ‘Beetle,’ if one aggroed. They hiked with weapons ready.
This time, they only fought the bugs that engaged them first. The sea of bluegrass seemed to go on forever. Wind hushed from behind, urging them forward and forming waves. It tossed up the beetles and floated white lace flowers.
As the hike went on, Matt struggled with the silence. Memories and emotions invaded his mind—thoughts that the dissonance had excavated. He worked to shove them back down deep, to bury them low where the light couldn’t find them. He dug a hole in his subconscious, formed a lockbox, and swallowed the key. And yet they rumbled discontent. Matt needed a distraction. He started counting steps.
Why are people so shitty? he silently asked the mountains. Why are the good ones gone?
The warm wind gusted stronger. Matt wondered if it might blow in a storm. It pushed on his back trashcan lid and flattened the grasses around him. Flowers bounced and bobbed. Matt smoothed back his messy curls. He kept counting and watching their flank.
A tense hour later, a middle-aged woman with a twisting black cone of Whoville hair came into view. She waved and Matt could see a smear of white lettering above her head. A quick check of the map confirmed that they’d arrived.
“Over here, travelers!” she called when they got closer. Her red lipstick matched her dress.
She reminded Matt of an actress that he couldn’t quite place. Matt let his swords relax at his sides but didn’t put them in his inventory.
“Over here.” She beckoned with both hands. “Can you help me?” It said ‘Apprentice Hazel’ above her head.
“Yes, Apprentice Hazel.” Matt crossed the last few feet between them. “I think we were sent to help.”
“Sent? Did the old geezer finally want to check in on me?” She put her hands on her waist and smiled.
“Murl?” Matt asked.
“That’s the one!”
“He sent us because of the gravemist,” Val said. She sounded exhausted. “It’s getting worse but this horse-man—”
“Oh, yes, yes,” Hazel interrupted.
“He had really white pants…” Val muttered. “He liked my poem the best.” She frowned.
“Oh, Murl, what am I going to do with you?” Hazel rolled her eyes. “What else would I be doing out here, spa day? Well, you’re here and I could use the help.”
‘648,000 XP’ floated up to the sky.
A wave of anger washed over Matt. That could have been double. That SHOULD have been double.
Matt was angry at the gankers, at FRC, at the whole damn universe. Matt was angry at being angry. He felt like he was going to burst.
“Now, I need apples,” Hazel instructed cheerfully.
“Apples?” said Val.
Fuck apples, Matt thought.
“Well, that’s what I said, silly!” Hazel chided. She reached in Val’s direction and booped the air. Then the woman rolled her eyes and quietly added, “Who did you send me, old man?”
Well, that’s insulting.
“Alright, travelers, the apples are in the north pass down there.” She pointed into the mountains. “It branches off. Trust me.” Then she waved her hands forward in dismissal. “A hundred should do it. Better get started.”