Milly leaned against a concrete wall in Luna’s cramped storage closet, where the backdoor had unceremoniously deposited her. She gritted her teeth from the pain in her shoulder. She had been able ignore it during the battle due to her enhanced toughness and Salem’s Fury. But now that the battle was over, and she had yanked out the bolt, the pain was hitting her all at once.

Her regeneration talent had already stopped the bleeding, but she’d exhausted her magical reservoirs during the fight, so there was little else she could do about it until her magic replenished. She opened her inventory and removed the fluffy white towel that she had used at the bathing pools when she and Calista had confessed to each other. She smiled at the memory.

With a sigh of regret, she tore the towel in two and used it to bandage her shoulder and create a sling. She winced as her blood stained its perfect whiteness.

“At least I am somewhere safe,” Milly whispered as she looked around the storage room. Then she remembered the hidden message from Luna that had brought her here. “At least, I hope it is safe. Luna sounded pretty scared.”

It had been a week since Milly had first encountered Luna in the Arena of Choice. The AI Director resembled a four-year-old, with shoulder-length and curly white hair. She’d been arguing with Tutoria – an extension of her own programming – and monitoring the players using the hundreds of computer monitors that had filled her warehouse-like home.

Luna seemed to be of two personalities. The first was the artificial AI Director, who influenced the world around them to create an adaptive God Contest that challenged the players and entertained the gods. Strong and serious, the AI Director had felt more adult than child, utterly committed to achieving the two purposes for which she had been designed: To help humans achieve victory in the God Contest, and, secretly, to counter an unknown puppet master that her mother, Oracle, suspected was behind the twelve failed Contests of humankind. A hefty responsibility upon which the fate of their Gods rested.

But then there was Luna the child. The girl who had been wearing unicorn pajamas and drinking apple juice from a sippy cup while she monitored the players. The girl who eyes reflected a child’s stubbornness, a child’s anger, and a child’s loneliness. The child of Oracle and Hephaestus, born without a name, and created by parents she would never know. Desperate for a friend and overwhelmed by the duties upon her shoulder.

The child whom Milly had held while she cried. And to whom she had left her favorite – and only – hoodie as a small token of comfort, and as a promise that Milly would return to see her again.

It was no life for a child, and it made Milly angry when she thought about Oracle and Hephaestus designing her for such a life. It was selfish and cruel, yet it was her reality. Milly had promised she would help the poor child. Not just for Luna’s sake, but for all the players, so they had a hope of returning home.

Milly got to her feet, her knees shaking from exhaustion. “Time to find Luna,” Milly told herself, and opened the hefty metal door.

When Milly had been here a week ago, the primary monitoring room had been lined with about eight hundred monitors. One for each player in the Contest. Except for her single Tutoria, who seemed to do little except enrage Luna by calling her ‘Director Cutie-Pie’, Luna had been monitoring the monitors by herself. She would transfer a dozen screens at a time to her small control room off the far end of the monitoring room, where she could input commands to influence events.

But now? Milly hardly recognized the place. The monitoring room had expanded to five times its original size. There were at least four thousand monitors, and the floor of the room was now a mirror image of the map that lay beneath the Castle of Glass’ lobby. The monitoring screens showed not only the players, but also the sentient creatures of the terrains. There were two dozen monitors focused on the Fairy Gathering, and an entire section of wall dedicated to the different wolf factions. There was one for the Dragon of Endless Shadows, though that one had a news ticker that scrolled along the bottom of the screen that said ‘Foreshadow-mode – Active at Cataclysm’.

Luna was no longer alone. There were eight versions of Tutoria moving frantically between the monitors. They all wore black dress pants, a white collared shirt, and a black bow tie, though each had a single distinguishing feature that set them apart from the rest. Milly watched as one of them, a Tutoria with a skull and crossbones eyepatch, spotted something on a monitor and ran into Luna’s small control room at the back of the monitoring room. The Tutoria emerged a minute later, returned to the monitor, and entered some commands through the connected keyboard.

Milly snuck across the monitoring room, care to avoid being seen by any of the Tutorias. She did not know how the relationship between the Tutorias and Luna functioned, but Luna had kept Milly’s presence secret from the Tutoria the first time they met. She reached Luna’s control room without being spotted and ducked inside.

Luna sat at the control station, watching a collection of monitors and muttering to herself. Milly gaped at the young girl. She looked to be six years old and was half a foot taller than when Milly had seen her a week ago. Her white hair had grown down to the smaller of her back. Instead of unicorn pajamas, she was wearing Milly’s black hoodie, the damage caused by the goblins on that first day had now been repaired. The hoodie was far too big for her, and it draped down past her knees, making it look like she were wearing a dress.

Luna saw Milly as she entered the room, and her eyes grew wide with surprise. She motioned for Milly to close the control room door as she shouted, “I’m sick of all you Tutorias bothering me. Leave me alone for a bit.”

“But Director Cutie-Pie, what if there is a…,” the Tutorias all spoke in unison.

“Shut up! Figure it out yourselves!” Luna shouted back, and Milly closed the door.

Luna jumped off her chair, ran over to Milly, wrapped her arms tightly around Milly’s waist. “You came,” Luna said through relieved tears, her face buried in Milly’s Gown of Moon and Stars. “I didn’t know if you would get my hidden message.”

Milly wrapped her arms around the small girl and gave her a comforting squeeze. “I got it. I came as quickly as I could.”

“Did any of the Tutorias see you?” Luna asked anxiously.

“I… I don’t think so,” Milly answered.

“Good,” Luna said, with a sigh of relief. “Good… good. I… I just don’t know if I can trust them.”

Luna released Milly’s waist and started pacing back and forth across the floor, mumbling to herself. She grasped the bottom of the hoodie, unconsciously pulling it in agitation.

Milly knew that look. She used to wear that same hoodie when she went to her therapist, and she would tug it like Luna when she was scared to start talking and let out the crazy. She’d be afraid that her therapist would decide she was just a silly, self-centered girl and decide she was beyond help. that her therapist would never want to see her again. Before she had met Xavier – and even afterward, for that matter - her therapist was the only person she could talk to, and the thought of losing that terrified her.

How hard must it be to be Luna, who had the weight of the world on her shoulders without a soul to confide in?

Milly sat down on the floor beneath Luna’s monitors.

“What are you feeling right now, Luna?” Milly asked in a caring tone, trying to channel her therapist.

Luna stopped her pacing and turned to face Milly. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears held back by sheer force of will.

“… scared…,” Luna whispered softly.

“What is making you feel scared?” Milly prompted. She remembered her therapist asking small questions as a way of prying away her emotional blockages one by one.

“It… it’s all too much,” Luna admitted. “The God Contest has just started, and already it is too much.”

“It seems busier out there compared to the last time I was here. Is that part of it, Luna?” Milly asked, trying to dig deeper.

Luna nodded shyly and sat next to Milly. She reached over and slid Milly’s glasses – her mother’s glasses – off her face and put them on her nose. It was as if the glasses were a security blanket. A reminder of where she had come from.

“Luna, what’s…” Milly began to ask.

“Mom and Dad built me to do this job. To be the God Contest’s Director,” Luna started, her thoughts tumbling out clumsily as if a dam had burst. “I thought I could do it. It was easy, at first. Monitor the players and adapt accordingly. But…”

Luna paused, and Milly waited patiently for her to continue.

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“…but now everything is getting so much… bigger. You and Calista and Rain met the fairies and the wolves, so now I must monitor and influence the actions of those societies. These are not like those simple, stupid goblins. These are complex cultures and histories that I need to account for,” Luna said, her desperation growing with every word. “Cultures that have been growing since the birth of this world. And it’s not just you three. There are six hundred and ninety two players, and every day more and more get out there to explore. Every step they take into the unknown is another monitor added to the growing room through that door. Another variable added to the calculations constantly spinning in my head.”

Luna’s casual mention of the player number was like a kick to Milly’s stomach. “Six hundred and ninety two,” thought Milly, her heart racing. “Sixty-five people have died since we left the Castle of Glass only a few days ago. How many of the dead did we know?”

“I haven’t rested in days. It’s like my mind is a toffee being stretched, and I know it will keep getting worse as the Contest goes on. I feel like I’ll end up being split in half.”

“I thought the Tutorias were here to help you? Aren’t they part of your programming?” Milly asked, trying not to think about the dead.

Luna hesitated. She wiped the tears from her eyes, then took off her mother’s glasses and handed them back to Milly. She stood up and walked over to the monitors, gazing up at the images flashing across the screens.

“That’s why I sent you the message,” Luna answered in a serious tone, suddenly sounding like the AI Director rather than a small child. “The Tutorias… they are part of me, but I can’t directly control them. It’s like having no control over your right arm. And more keep popping into existence as monitors get added.”

Luna turned to her. “Do you recall what we talked about before? About there being a puppet master working in the shadows of the contest? Finding and stopping them was the hidden purpose mother gave me. And I’ve been searching the God Contest constantly for any trace for them.”

“And what did you find?” asked Milly.

“…bugs,” answered Luna cryptically.

“Bugs?” asked Milly, confused.

“Bugs. Errors. Like not being able to control the Tutorias,” Luna explained, her frustration evident. “There is no reason why I should not be able to control them. Father would not have made such a mistake. So I started looking for gaps like that, and I found them. Locations in the world I could not see. Monsters I did not know about. Player screens I cannot access. Small weaknesses chipping away at who I am. What I was made for.”

“Luna, are you sure these are not just simple mistakes?” calmed Milly. She recalled the memory orb from the beach. “You parents… they didn’t have very much time to… to complete you.” Milly knew it was the wrong thing to say when she saw the anger flare in Luna’s eyes.

“These aren’t mistakes!” shouted Luna, an intense fear hidden behind her anger. Milly watched as the child re-emerged. She was trembling. “I’m being corrupted, bit-by-bit. Like a virus, picking away at my core. And every day, it eats away at another piece of me. I don’t… I’m going to fail. I’m going to fail mom and dad. I’m going to fail you, and those you love. I’m going to fail the gods. And in the end, there won’t be anything left of me except the bugs.”

Milly wanted to argue with Luna. To tell her she was overreacting. Instead, she simply reached over and pulled Luna into a fierce hug and held her tightly. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Luna. I promise.”

It was ten minutes before Luna stopped crying, cradled in Milly’s lap with her tears seeping into Milly’s gown.

“I need your help,” Luna finally whispered, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie.

“I know,” Milly said gently. “You didn’t give me that sub-class for no reason. What do you need?”

Luna hesitated for a moment, then reached up and grabbed Milly’s glasses again. She placed her two index fingers against the lenses, and they began to glow with a bright white light. The light was absorbed into the lenses, and then Luna handed them back to Milly.

“Well, just like the sub-class said. I need you to be my inquisitor. My eyes and ears where I cannot see. If the puppet master is out there, they are hiding in my blind spots. The greater my blind spots, the more influence they will have upon the Contest. But if you can explore those places I cannot see, we can slow down the spread of the bugs. Buy us time, until we find this puppet master,” Luna said, but her voice was laced with guilt.

“It’s okay, Luna. Tell me,” Milly prompted.

“It will… it will be dangerous. I have no idea what you will find along the way. There will be blind spots that are harmless, and there will be those that are far above your current abilities. You may even find the puppet master itself and… and I don’t think you are strong enough to defeat them.”

“I understand, Luna,” Milly replied. “But, if Oracle was correct, as long as this puppet master is out there, we can’t win the God Contest. This isn’t your fault. You’ve doing everything you can to give us a fighting chance. Your mom and dad would be proud of you.”

Luna gave Milly a sweet smile. “They built me to be an adaptive AI, so I am adapting.”

Luna leaped off Milly’s lap excitedly. “Now, the program I added to mom’s glasses lets you see the blind spots I’ve identified when you look at a map. Any map. You’ll be the only one who can see their location. It will also send me back information on what you saw, so I can work at this end to fix the bug. So, don’t lose those glasses.”

“I won’t, Luna,” Milly laughed, throwing up her hands in mock protest. “Inquisitor’s promise. How did you give me that subclass, anyway? I’m not level thirty yet. You said such favoritism can cause the Nexus to reject the contest. Wasn’t that a big risk?”

“I… I know. But I couldn’t just let you walk into danger at your current power level. You… you almost died against Red Fang! Milly, I don’t want you to die,” Luna answered with a note of panic. “I kept it small and didn’t change your level, so I don’t think the Nexus noticed. At the rate you are growing, you’d be eligible for it in a month anyways. Just… don’t go drawing attention to it.”

“I’m not complaining,” Milly said. “It made those other wolves easier.”

Luna stared doubtfully at Milly’s bandaged arm.

“Well, not easy,” Milly clarified. “Just… not as hard as the last ones.”

“Just… please be careful. You’re the only… friend, I have.”

Milly smiled and pulled Luna into another hug, and they sat like that for the next hour. Milly told her about her adventures, even though Luna had watched them all on the monitors. And Luna told Milly about how her bedroom had grown bigger, and that she now had a blanket and pillow and even a toothbrush, even though she had no need of the latter. Milly listened attentively, as if Luna were actually a little six-year-old girl and Milly were her mother. The thought made Milly smile.

Luna asked awkward questions about Calista. About whether Milly loved her, whether they would get married, and, if so, when they would have babies. The questions of a curious six-year-old child without a filter. Milly had no answers for the first one. She’d been unconscious for about half the length of her relationship with Calista, though she thought that maybe she did. And she didn’t even know where to start explaining the final question, so when Luna started to yawn Milly took the opportunity to change the topic.

“You haven’t slept in days, little Luna. I think it is time for you get some sleep,” Milly announced in a voice that invited no debate.

“I don’t want you to go,” Luna mumbled into Milly’s arm. “I’m all alone here.”

“I’ll come back to visit again. And with the full moon pendant and the upgrade to my glasses, we’ll never be that far apart,” Milly said, comforting the child.

Luna got up and walked to the doorway into her room, her hands clutching the hoodie once more. “Thank you, Milly. I couldn’t do this without you. I’ll try to help you, in whatever little ways I can.”

“Well, I don’t suppose you can tell me where the next Arena is?” Milly asked, only half joking. “We need to clear it before the event timer hits zero back at the Castle of Glass.”

Luna’s smile faded in an instant. “Milly, you know… I… I can’t. I’m not supposed to…”

Milly saw Luna’s eyes flicker for a moment, towards the top left monitor. Milly followed her gaze, and her heart sank.

The monitor displayed the lake where the Gathering was taking place. Milly saw Calista and Rain laughing as they shoved cotton candy into their mouths.

The news ticker that scrolled along the bottom of the monitor chilled Milly to her core.

The Arena of Protection

Time Until Commencement: 6 hours, 34 minutes, 19 seconds

Active Participants: Milly Brown, Rain Desjarlais, Calista Gale

Anticipated Participant: Xavier Holloway

They did not have to find the Arena. Rain and Calista were in the middle of it.

Milly looked back at Luna, who was staring at the floor.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Milly,” she whispered, fighting back tears. “I… I don’t have a choice. I still have a job to do.”

Three minutes later, Milly was racing across the prairie night at full speed, desperate to find Calista and Rain.

Because in the morning, they would be fighting for their lives.

* * *

Xavier Holloway sat beside the fire while Passiflora slept, curled up in the blanket Xavier had reluctantly provided. She had tried to run a dozen times that first day, but she had learned she could not escape. Xavier was simply too fast and too strong.

“God, I hate escort missions,” he whispered to himself as he stared into the flames. Passiflora stirred in her sleep but did not wake. She was exhausted, and she was always crying. Xavier had to carry her on his shoulders most of the way here since she was so damn slow. He was looking forward to being rid of her when they finally reached their destination in the morning.

“This ‘Gathering’ had better be worth it,” Xavier mumbled, speaking to the Ring of Cizen resting in his palm. But Cizen was dormant and did not answer him.

He always felt weak when the ring was dormant. Its power at those times was a trickle rather than a torrent. The ring elevated emotions such as anger and desire, which were emotions he was comfortable with. Emotions that had lived inside him for as long as he could remember. Emotions that helped him survive in these wilds. And it would numb weak emotions, such as compassion, sadness, loss, and guilt.

But when the ring was dormant, his emotions would return to normal, and he would start to contemplate the hollowness that lay growing inside him. He would ask himself if it had really been necessary to kill Passiflora’s tribe. He would wonder if he should have waited for Milly after the Arena of Choice and apologized so they had stayed friends. He questioned if he would be able to dream again without the screams of the dead echoing in his mind.

In those moments of weakness, he wanted to abandon the Ring of Cizen. Toss it in the fire, hurl it off a cliff, or throw it into the depths of the ocean. Yet with every day that passed, the more he knew he never would. He needed the ring. It was like a drug, giving him the fortitude to survive this Contest.

Xavier felt the Ring of Cizen activate, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He placed it on his finger without hesitation. The ring numbed his unwelcome emotions and he felt confident once again. He remembered that these fairies were simply bags of experience waiting to be collected, and that Milly and her friends had been the ones who betrayed him. He did not need them. He did not need anyone. He was better off alone. All he needed was the ring, and the power it would help him acquire.

“Get up, girl. You have rested long enough,” Xavier spat, his anger returned. He threw an ember from the fire on the ground next to her face, and Passiflora scrambled backwards so that her hair did not catch fire. “We’re traveling tonight. I want to be at this Gathering by sunrise, so I can finally be rid of you.”

Xavier kicked dirt onto the fire to put it out, hauled Passiflora onto his shoulders, and started running across the plains.