Sabrina pulled her virtual reality visor off, and sat up. Across the room, Haven did the same thing. They shared a look, before fully getting up, and walking to their study room at a pace just short of a jog.

“Have you ever seen something like that?” Asked Haven once they were there, a faint hint of shock still in her voice.

“No. And I don’t even know what to begin to think about it. Is she even an archer class in game?”

Haven nodded.

“I know what you mean. And, I’m certain she is.”

“What? Really? Even with…that?”

“Yes. I’ve seen her use an archer’s ultimate before.”

“Then…what we saw today was without any skill correction, guidance systems, or computer assistance?”

Haven shrugged.

“Maybe she’s found a hidden class?” She suggested.

Sabrina shook her head.

“No, she’s not on the server’s list for that. I think that what we saw was only her real skill.”

Haven chuckled a little, and Sabrina turned on her.

“This is no laughing matter! Revy’s a member of the Al’Verath family, has at least a level five intellect, was able to safely house a member of her main family, and now we find out she’s probably a Master level fighter?”

“Why do you think these are bad things?” Asked Haven, with a small smile on her face.

Sabrina looked confused.

“But…why wouldn’t it be? There’s too much we don’t know about Revy, and it could become a liability in the future.”

Haven shook her head.

“No. If there’s one thing that I know about Revy, it’s that she’s at least a good friend.”

Haven, still smiling, looked directly at the confused Sabrina.

“She wouldn’t leave those close with her to the wolves. The deepest parts of her personality wouldn’t allow her to do something like that, trust me.” Reassured Haven, that enigmatic smile still on her face.

----------------------------------------

I sighed, and pulled of my VR visor. Placing is carefully on my bedside table, I got up and checked the time.

No wonder I’m feeling a bit hungry—we blew right past lunch, and dinner’s only an hour or two away. I hurry and make a sandwich to assuage the growling in my stomach. While eating, I think back on the quest in Ashenload.

Yeah yeah, I know I showed off a little with my combat capabilities, even though I’m trying not to use them. Say what you will, but I had my reasons.

For one, it was immensely satisfying to let loose in virtual reality, where my actions are of little consequence. And let’s face it, I’ve needed a target to let steam off on since Joel had shown up on my doorstep, and left with the beginnings of a harem. I get the bad feeling that I’ll begin hearing more about him sometime soon, and that I’ll meet him again. Damn protagonists.

Also, I let loose a little inside the game, because I felt like I owed my friends it. I have no doubt that Sabrina and Haven are quibbling about implications and the such, and I’m honestly fine with that. After quite a bit of thought, I’d previously come to the conclusion that my friends deserve to at least know that I’m capable. It doesn’t feel right, somehow, keeping my abilities secret from them. This way, I’ve shown them the tip of the iceberg, and they won’t have to worry about me as much as they would thinking I’m powerless.

Plus, I’m of the opinion that something’s going to happen soon, where I would be better off with them knowing that I can at least defend myself. Damn premonitions.

Ah, and my sandwich is gone now. I washed my plate, and put it up to dry. Then, I boot up my computer to continue my college search. Really, I need to make a decision soon as to what I’m going to do. There are too many good options though, and I’m having trouble deciding.

I could chose the low-key and less reputable schools, of which there are many. This would keep attention from being draw to me, but would leave me with less job options afterwards. After all, some companies will see a little-league college certificate, and send me away simply because I’m not “educated enough”. People are stuck up like that, unfortunately.

Then, I could chose to apply for the hoity-toity universities, meant for the best of the best, or High Families. While it would open up the job market considerably, and it’d be easy to enter, the people themselves in such a school would be a pain to deal with, to say nothing of the possibility that I’d be over-qualified for quite a few jobs.

Since it seems troublesome, I really, really don’t want to go to one of those schools. Too many egos clashing for me.

Lastly, I can go to a Trade school. They’re kinda an in-between, since they’re generally well respected and do good work in teaching. Ability is the only thing that matters in these schools, and can get you quite far. At the same time, they’re rather low-key, and like to keep out of public view as it disrupts the student’s studies.

Personally, I think the last option is almost perfectly suited for me. I can make a name for myself within the school itself, without becoming nearly as famous anywhere else. And given that I wish to remain as low-key as possible, a school like that would be best.

Of course, it remains to be seen which one of their schools I’d be sent to. There are a few notable ones in the Home-Star System, occupying planets such as Mars, the moons of Saturn, and that micro-planet Pluto. Granted, those are some of the more famous options, but I have a feeling I’ll end up there after applications.

The Trade Colleges make damned sure that you enter a college fitting the your level of ability and intellect. Given that I’m….well, me, there’s not a doubt in my mind that I’ll end up in one of their top-notch schools somehow.

The applications themselves consist partially of personal information—like age, physicality, Awakening, and history. The other part is a fairly large test taken by everyone applying. The test itself is different depending on the type of school being applied to, and varies in difficulty accordingly. I think my own testing date is coming up next week or something? You know, I should probably check on that before it becomes an actual problem.

After quibbling over whether or not I’m making the right decision college-wise, I surfed the web for a bit. Mostly, I looked into the latest scientific discoveries and insights.

The most sensational story involved a probe that had been sent into the nearest black hole, and the shocking lack of data they’d gotten back from it. Really, you’d think they’d have learnt from the last five times that had happened. Granted, this is the first time it’s happened where the media was made aware of the event—Which made it even more embarrassing that the scientists couldn’t get data on even the areas near the black hole, since the probe was simply destroyed too quickly.

There were also a few lesser stories about new inventions, and a hard fought optimization of man-kind’s FTL engines, where it’s efficiency is increased by about 1%. Considering that the FTL engine hasn’t really changed all that much since it’s inception after Moon-fall, any advance in the technology is considered a major leap at the moment. And especially increases in efficiency, since that’s normally the most difficult change to make in any piece of machinery or electronics.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

There was also a pretty big story about the edges of our civilization, and the wars that continuously erupt out there. Mostly, they’re about issues of property ownership, beliefs, or due to the potential gain of something valuable. So, the normal reasons, really. While warfare is relatively rare near the Home-Star System, it’s a common problem out by the fringes where no one’s policing anything. It’s a lawless place, where power prevails over all.

Really, there’s nothing to be done about it, no matter how bad the news articles make it out to be. Nobody has the manpower necessary to bring order to those areas. Well, maybe the High-Families do, but they’re too concerned with policing each other, and maintaining that ridiculous “alignment” argument. Honestly, you’d think they’d be tired of that after a few hundred years.

There was also more local news, about a string of high-profile murder’s that have been taking place. Seeing as how professionally the killer offed the victims, police are thinking that a hitman or assassin’s been hired to go after these people.

Interestingly, one of the victims was revealed to be a student at my school—The same one that had recently gone missing, and whose disappearance was noted in the school’s daily announcements.

Bah. I have a feeling I know what’s going on. I just hope he doesn’t get caught or something. Breaking him out of prison would be a right pain in the ass.

Sighing, I walked into my bedroom, and flopped down onto my sheets.

Dammit, I want something to do.

I really hate these blank spots in my days, you know? What am I even supposed to do with them? Hell, if I knew what to do with them, they wouldn’t be blank voids of perpetual and time-bending boredom. Normally, I would play games or something, but I’ve gotten tired of them as of late. For one—and I believe I’ve mentioned this before—most games are just too easy now. I could go and find new games to play, but I would run into the same problems after a bit of time.

Raising my hand to the ceiling and staring at it, I consider the things I could do.

Maybe I could throw myself into a project? It would have to be something sufficiently high-level enough to peak my interest, and keep it for the full duration.

Ah, but it’s just not possible at the moment. A lot of the things I want to do would need either large amounts of space, or good equipment. Given that I have neither, it’s can’t be done right now.

Maybe I could try my hand at more creative things—like painting, or writing?

Or not. The horror that was my fifth grade art project will never be repeated. Intelligence does not always equate creativity, it seems.

I sigh again, and somewhat reluctantly get up and check the Ashenload forums. Normally, they’re used as a tool to help players get to know the game better, but that seems to have changed recently. Now, everyone’s just complaining about the so-called Player-Gods, and how they’ve messed up the game. Quite a few people are claiming that they’ll stop playing the game altogether, if the developers don’t take away the power of the Player-Gods.

……

How needy. Even though the solution should be staring them in the face, they don’t see it?

Well, I guess I’m one of the few accustomed to thinking outside the box in video games. Really, how has nobody seen this yet? I thought it was obvious enough that someone else would take action.

Apparently not.

I went ahead and logged into the forums using my in-game account, and posted my thoughts on the matter, while also hinting that perhaps the Player-Gods are not as all-powerful as they seem.

I mean, this is a VRMMO, right? It stands to reason that any enemy can be beaten in some way, even if it turns out to be ridiculously difficult. There’s always a weakness, and everything has a flaw. To think otherwise would mean that you believe it isn’t a game anymore, but real life.

I smiled, and logged back off. Hopefully, this’ll catalyze some action into the game, and force the quest to progress.

Now, what to do with the rest of my time?

----------------------------------------

Like any other city, Jor has its fair share of dark nooks and alleys, with all manor of things hidden where the light will not shine.

A figure dressed in heavy black clothing walked off the street, and into one of the dark alleyways, his silhouette instantly disappearing among the shadows. He continued walking; not caring about his combat boots treading through whatever waste and refuse littered the floor of the alley. Soon, a curious sight came into view—A heavy metal door set into the side of a building. Were someone to examine the building codes and diagrams, they would find that the door should not exist, as there was no space for a room behind it.

Never-the-less, the figure rapped on the door in a set pattern. A slit in the door opened in stereotypical fashion, and a pair of eyes peered outwards. Taking note of the figure in black, a voice called out from behind the door.

“Password?”

The figure in black hesitated for a brief moment before responding.

“One-two-one-yankee-delta-eight-seven.” He responded.

The clicking of large locks rattled the door, before it swung open to reveal a middle-aged man. With plain brown hair, and a normal face, the man would look at home in almost any setting. Right now though, he looks distinctly out of place with the metal door and dingy alleyway.

“Did you complete it, Specter?” Asked the man.

The figure in black nodded as he entered the room beyond the door, which shut automatically after him.

A few minutes later, a group of uniformed men and women ran into the alley, searching for something.

“Are you sure he went this way?!” Yelled the lead officer.

“I’m sure! Surveillance caught him walking down this alley about three minutes ago, and it’s a dead end! He should still be in here!”

Quickly but carefully, the group walked down the alley.

Ten minutes later, they had to give up. There was no sign of their quarry in the alleyway. After all, there were no exits to take, no doors to open within the alley by the time the group arrived.

Meanwhile, inside the room protected by the metal door, the figure in black took off his mask, and sat down. The middle-aged man eyed him warily.

“There’s no blood on you, right? I’d hate to have to burn that chair, Ussen.”

Ussen shook his head.

“…I did it from a distance this time.”

“What—Really? That’s no good. You’re better up close, with your knives.”

“I still did it, didn’t I?”

The middle-aged man sighed.

“Sure, sure. But you have to play to your strengths. What if you hadn’t succeeded? We would have been out a contract, and a good, paying customer.”

“Doesn’t matter. I still finished the job.” Ussen replied morosely.

“I really didn’t expect for your baptism to start so well.” Said the middle-aged man in a throwaway manner. “I don’t think anybody did. You’d always seemed too soft, too caring. It’s good to know that Goethric blood truly does flow through your veins, boy.” Said the man, as he opened the metal door again. Ussen got back up, and walked out the door.

Beyond the door, the alleyway had vanished, and now a stately study room greeted Ussen. Turning around, he watched as the metal door, which stood without any support in the middle of the study room, slowly vanished from view.

Ussen sat down in one of the chairs within the study, no emotions present on his face.

Then he waited.

After some time, the door to the study creaked open, and Ussen’s father walked in.

“I just got the news. This makes your seventh, right? Only three more to go, then.”

Ussen nodded.

“I think I have a good target for your eighth hit, as well.” He said, putting a folder down in front of Ussen, who opened it, and immediately frowned.

“That’s too close. I request another target.”

“Too close?” asked Ussen’s father, while grinning slightly.

“She’s in my class. I’ve seen Sabrina talking to her.”

Ussen’s father rubbed his beard a little, still smiling.

“I can’t draw attention to myself so conspicuously, targeting someone in my own class.”

“Ah, Ussen. I’m afraid you have to do it. Part of the Baptism is proving how capable you are at hiding and remaining inconspicuous.” Said Ussen’s father, still smiling. His smile never reached his eyes though.

Ussen paled almost imperceptibly.

“But….” He began.

His father held up a hand, and snapped. Immediately, a screen folded down from the ceiling, and a video was projected onto it.

“I’ve always been of the opinion that you have too many friends, Ussen. I’ve always told you that’s a mistake. It takes a blade finely honed through practice and discipline, and blunts it. Now, you can carry out this job, and continue your Baptism. Or, I could remove a distraction from your life.” He said, pointing at the screen.

On it was a live feed of Ussen’s friend Kormic teaching a bunch of little kids. The crosshairs resting on his head made it clear that the video was being filmed from the scope of a sniper.

Ussen stared at the screen, not saying anything. His father raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Is the removal of one friend acceptable in your eyes? Perhaps I should take out more than one obstacle to your growth?”

The screen shifted, and next to the video feed of Kormic, another one appeared—this time with Godard inside his smithy, hammering away on a bit of glowing metal. Like before, a crosshair was superimposed over his head.

“Or, if that still isn’t enough, maybe the removal of all disturbances will get you to act?” He said.

Three more video feeds joined the other two, each with a friend of Ussen’s in the center. The most disturbing was probably the one with Haven, since the video feed made it clear that her assassin was hiding somewhere in her room as she wrote something on a tablet.

Ussen shook his head.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” He said, a faint hint of disgust in his voice.

His father smiled broadly, and the screen retracted itself into the ceiling again.

“Good, good! Look at it this way—only three more hits, until your Baptism is finished, and we can have the Ceremony.”

Ussen left the room, not looking back at his father as he spoke.

Perhaps if one of them had noticed, things would have turned out differently. As it was, neither one caught the hint, and they both blundered forward in oblivious bliss.

You see, if they had seen Revy look up from the dishes she was washing, and stare right at whatever was filming her, things would have changed. If they had seen the smile she’d had while looking right at her would-be assassin, perhaps greater precautions would have been taken.

As it was, the event only left the assassin himself shaking, while attempting to convince himself that Revy hadn’t been looking at him. And that the shivers he felt up and down his spine was the weather.

But nobody took note of that. And so events unfolded.