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Upheaval
Chapter 8: The Mask Cracks

Chapter 8: The Mask Cracks

Zhu would be lying if he claimed he was gracefully accepting the end of his favorite pastime. But now that he was gazing down at everything he and his companions accomplished, he had to admit, things could have ended on a much worse note. Most Conquest players didn’t get the privilege of ending things on their terms. Typically, the disbandment of a clan was a bitter anticlimactic matter brought about by apathy or worse, treachery.

Sion’s presence ensured that their group never fell victim to the latter of those two fates. Three years ago, the BLACK coalition had suffered its first devastating betrayal and vowed it would be its last. After that incident, every recruit had to pass a live video interview and submit a form of I.D. to the clan’s leaders to join. This stringent recruitment process stunted the coalition’s growth, but it worked. Since that day, the coalition had only produced one other turncoat and Zhu didn’t doubt the defector sorely regretted her actions after the hell Sion put her through.

“So, this is it,” Khiva quietly remarked.

“Yeah. Never thought we would go through with this,” LongDongSilver muttered. “Always figured we’d all just gradually get bored and quit.”

“Speak for yourself,” Zhu huffed. “I could’ve played this game till the day I died. I’m going to miss this,” he sighed.

“It’s not over yet. We still have our final showdown to look forward to.”

A beat later, Sovereign relayed a telepathic message.

“Have the sacrifices been placed?”

He received a chorus of yeses

“Good. Dukes, get ready to activate the obelisks on my count.”

Zhu’s grip on his poleaxe tightened as a delightful spurt of adrenaline coursed through his body. His regrets and reservations forgotten, he became lost in his own world as he imagined what kind of boss they would go up against.

“Three.”

Would it be a monster of epic proportions, a resplendent god, or an eldritch abomination?

“Two.”

Perhaps that was too optimistic. It would be out of character if the capricious developer actually rewarded their most passionate players with an epic final battle. He wouldn’t put it past them to pit them against something small and fuzzy. Like a rabbit that farted nuclear explosions.

“One.”

Zhu shook his head to clear his mind. He would find out what kind of challenge lay in store for him soon enough.

The ziggurat shuddered. A spire jutting from the center of the structure’s highest terrace spat out a golden bubble. The sphere of energy rapidly expanded until it enveloped the entire platform. A moment later, the ninety gathered players were whisked away in a flash of light. Zhu barely regained his bearings when their enemy surged towards them.

Many of the players had expected to face a living mountain. What they got was a sea of flesh. To their disappointment, the living tide was composed of human figures. Disgruntlement turned to disgust when their disfigured adversaries drew closer. Gratuitous violence and Conquest might have gone hand in hand, but the injuries the emaciated figures bore were beyond the pale.

Zhu alone remained unfazed by their appearance. Without missing a beat, he lobbed a lead glande. The screaming projectile punched straight through a walking cadaver’s ribcage. His attack spurred the rest of the ghouls into action. They shuffled forward, barely attaining walking speed.

This pathetic charge helped the southern division overcome their trepidation. They unleashed a fusillade of arrows and bullets that carved great rents into the mass of the horde. But like a pool of water, the swarm just reformed and sealed those gaps. Nobody bothered aiming. There were so many targets, an archer could shoot straight up into the air and still kill something. The salvo stopped when the players realized they were spending precious ammunition on low-value targets.

Zhu, being the tallest fighter with the longest reach, was the first to engage them in hand-to-hand combat. Yodeling, he hacked away with his poleaxe.

The ghouls were pathetically weak. Zhu cleaved through them in fours and fives with every attack. He didn’t even have to worry about over committing to a swing or lowering his guard. Their blows were so impotent that his overly sensitive overshield didn’t even register their hits. Zhu laughed uproariously. This was the type of fight he relished. To his left, a bloated player waded into the fight, laying about with his axe and shield.

“This is a lot easier than I expected,” his neighbor said.

“Don’t get cocky!” Caustic warned. The warmonger had only just gotten mixed into close-quarters combat and his body count already exceeded Zhu’s. His whirling blades killed with such efficiency that he hadn’t found an opportunity to use his actual hands yet. “This is probably just a warmup before the real boss shows up.”

“It can take its time,” Zhu chucked. “I am having a blast.”

The players formed a wide but thin defensive ring. Zhu, being capable of easily striking over most of his allies’ heads and shoulders, was placed at the center.

Within minutes, an absurd number of bodies piled up in front of them.

“Hah! They’re tripping on their own dead!” Zhu chortled as he watched a ghoul stumble over a bisected carcass.

“How many more do you think we’ll need to kill before the boss shows up?” somebody asked.

“How should I know?” someone else responded.

“Are Sovereign and the others also dealing with these kinds of enemies?”

Caustic glanced at Khiva and shrugged.

“Dunno. Can’t link coms with him for some reason.”

“Stop whinging and enjoy yourselves!” Zhu shouted.

The rest tried to do just that, but even the most optimistic amongst them grew uneasy when the horde showed no sign of thinning.

“Damn!” Blahyi cursed when his soaked endrim broadsword slipped out of his grasp. “Anybody got an extra weapon?”

“Just use your fists,” Zhu replied. He had tossed his blood-slicked poleaxe a while ago and was bludgeoning a ghoul to death with another’s severed hindquarters. “It’s like punching through mashed potatoes.”

“Anybody got spare heart stones? I’m running low on energy.”

Once again, Zhu supplied a solution. “Just eat the zombies. They’re like a billion of them around.”

“Not all of us can just scarf them down like you can,” Khiva responded.

“Your fault for designing such a boring normie character.”

“This is ridiculous! When do we actually get to fight the boss?” a robed player called Bishop seethed.

“Maybe we have to kill them all.”

Blahyi stared at the endless mass of ghouls and blanched. “That would take forever.”

“We must be doing something wrong,” Khiva muttered. “There has to be some sort of switch that we need to activate or some special enemy we have to kill.”

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll go ask Sovereign and the others,” Caustic said.

“I thought you said coms were down?”

“I got his cell number. Cover me while I call him.”

Caustic pulled back to the center of the formation. His body slumped when he took off his gaming helm. To their surprise, his character disintegrated shortly afterward.

“What just happened?”

“Shit, are you serious? We can’t even take these helmets off for a god damn breather?”

“In hindsight, we probably should’ve expected something like that.”

“What are we going to do if we have to use the bathroom or something?”

“Good thing I’m already sitting on a toilet,” Zhu remarked.

That joke got a few laughs, but the coalition’s good humor did not last.

“This is bullshit!” Bishop seethed an hour later. “Whose fucking bright idea was this again?”

“Quit your bitching!” LDS growled. “We all knew that this was going to be difficult.”

“I expected a challenge, not some endless grind! Did those dumbass devs really think this would be fun?”

“I dunno. I kind of think it is. Just wish there was a counter, so we’d know how many we’ve killed so far,” Zhu quipped.

Bishop called it quits after another hour passed. His neighbor, Blackjack, announced his resignation shortly after.

“Pizza is here.”

“Eat later,” Zhu suggested.

“Screw that, I’m starving.”

Zhu ripped off a ghoul’s arm and waved it at Blackjack. “Alright, bye forever.”

“Yeah, it’s almost dinnertime,” a demonic beast standing adjacent to LDS declared.

“Don’t you live in England, Viper? Pretty sure your dinnertime ended when we started.”

“Uh….”

“Leave him alone Zhu,” Khiva interjected. “If he wants to leave, he can leave. Real life always comes before Conquest.”

“I don’t give a shit that he’s leaving. Just don’t be a weasley bitch and give fake excuses.”

“In that case, I’m heading out too,” the brawny giant that had been fighting beside Zhu spoke up. “Sorry, but this just isn’t fun, and I don’t want to waste the rest of my day off.” Several others nodded in agreement.

“See, it ain’t so hard being honest.” Zhu snarked. Viper flipped him off.

Twenty-three players dropped out at once. Of those that remained, at least half appeared to be having second thoughts themselves.

“How the hell are we going to beat the boss now?”

“I’m starting to think there isn’t a boss. I bet those asshole devs just threw us in a room of infinitely spawning enemies.”

“They better have not!”

“Hey guys, check this out!”

Zhu dropped to the ground and rolled his torso across the ground. As he picked up speed, he turned his windmill into a backspin. Dozens of ghouls fell victim to his breakdancing routine.

Not content to let another one-up him, Blahyi channeled his inner pro wrestler. Running forward, he leaped into the air and belly-flopped on top of a knot of ghouls. Others soon joined in, forgetting their consternation as they competed to see who could kill their enemies in the flashiest manner.

The contest occupied the southern division for several hours. Another mass exodus swept through the southern divisions' ranks shortly afterward. By the time late evening hit, only nine players remained.

“Looks like it's just us no-lifers left,” Zhu commented. He noted with some pride that his original Bubble Buddy companions comprised half of the remaining players.

“Damn casuals,” Scarface, a player with a rather unremarkable and aptly named character, spat.

Khiva took some umbrage with that statement. “Hey, I am a normal person!”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t still be here.”

“Unlike the rest of you, I’ve never lost sleep over this game.”

“True,” Zhu conceded. “So, what’s keeping you going this time?”

“I’ve been playing this game nearly every day for three years. I want to see this through to the end.”

Khiva’s close companion, Cedrick, bobbed his head in agreement. “Same.”

******

Bored out of his mind, the pile of human wreckage that called himself Gushing Granny asked, “Besides Violator, who do you think is the most fucked up person in our group?”

“Hey, let’s not talk shit about our clan mates. Especially when they are not here to defend themselves.”

“Stop being such a moral crusader, Khiva. I wanna hear this,” Zhu said.

Scarface nominated his candidate after a few seconds of deliberation. “Probably Cotton.”

Cedrick’s brow quirked. “Really? He’s one of the chillest guys I’ve ever met. What did he do to make it on your list?”

“I’m guessing it’s because he fucks his sister,” Hustleman said.

Scarface nearly choked on his own spit. “Wait, what? Does he seriously do that?”

“He’s from banjo country, dude. That’s like their national pastime.”

Scarface, who also lived in a southern state, rolled his eyes. “Fuck off.”

To Hustleman’s delight, his octopus-like friend, UslessCynic, steered the conversation in a strange direction. “You know, I realize incest is messed up and all, but after all the anime and hentai I’ve seen, I’ve gotten pretty desensitized to the concept.”

Zhu sniggered. “Yeah, it’s pretty ridiculous how much brother-sister stuff that country makes.”

“Jesus Christ, what kind of porn do you guys watch?” LDS asked.

“I only wank off to mostly normal stuff,” UselessCynic lied shamelessly. “But I do occasionally check out some real toe curlers just for the laughs. Hey Zhu, do you remember that really freaky one I linked you a few weeks ago?”

“Are you talking about the one where a lady thought she found a bunch of treasure in the middle of a desert, but it turned out that the chest was actually a lure attached to a giant land-anglerfish-demon-thing that for some reason decided to fold her up into a perfect cube before it ate her?”

“Well, that was one of the weirder ones, but I was talking about the really nasty one where —"

“Shut up!” LDS shouted. “I don’t want to hear any more of this gross crap. How the hell did we get into this topic?”

Zhu had many faults, but a short memory wasn’t one of them. “Scarface was talking about why he thinks Cotton is the second most messed up member of the coalition. I am pretty offended by that statement, by the way. I’m way worse than Cotton.”

“I dunno, I don’t remember you ever unironically advocating that we turn the middle east into a glass crater.”

“Typical southern hick,” LDS growled. His remark earned a glower from Scarface.

“We’re not all like that. But Cotton does have a super racist streak. He also told me he sometimes goes around murdering animals in his yard.”

UselessCynic shrugged. “Eh, killing animals isn’t that bad. At least he doesn’t torture them like Violator used to.”

“Don’t think anyone holds a candle to that psychopath,” Cedrick muttered with a shudder.

“I always just figured she was a really edgy kid,” Khiva muttered. “Is she really that bad?”

“Almost positive that she’s got a genuine case of antisocial personality disorder,” Zhu informed the others. “Believe it or not, she was actually a lot worse when Toothless and I first met her.” A dark chuckle rumbled from his throat. “First time I’ve ever been a good influence.”

“Shit, if she’s actually that messed up, shouldn’t we call the police or something?”

“Don’t see what that would accomplish. Her parents already know. That’s why they got her this game. Long as she has this outlet, she’ll behave in the real world.”

“I don’t know, Zhu. Somebody could get hurt if you’re wrong.”

“If you wanna try to get her locked up, go ahead. I wouldn’t lose any sleep if she was put in a straitjacket. Still, if you really think about it, she’s already been given a really raw deal. Don’t see why we have to make her more miserable than she already is. The girl might be wacky as tobbaccy but she’s not an idiot. She doesn’t like being the way she is. I mean, she doesn’t feel guilt or remorse like you or some other people do, but she’s smart enough to realize that being a bloodthirsty psycho is pretty damn inconvenient. She knows she can never be herself when she’s around real people. If she could ring up a magic genie and fix her brain, she would do it in a heartbeat. But she can’t.”

The room would have gone silent if it hadn’t been filled with slavering zombies.

GushingGranny was the first to speak up. “Well, shit. Now I actually feel kind of bad for her.”

LDS was less sympathetic. “Well, I am just glad that she went with the Ruskies for this run. If she were with us right now, she’d probably be flicking the bean at the sight of all these guts and gore.”

Zhu stuck out his tongue. “Ugh, that’s a nasty mental image.”

“Alright guys, it’s time to take off the visors and say your last goodbyes to your family. Zhu being grossed out by something is a sign that the apocalypse is upon us!”

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******

“Hey Khiva,” Zhu said as his fist entered a ghoul’s chest and exited out of its back. It continued to snap its jaw at him until he split it in two. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but I kept forgetting. How did you come up with your handle?”

Khiva, who had been ‌throttling a frothing fourth-degree burn victim, paused in thought.

“I honestly don’t remember.”

“Well, that’s anticlimactic.”

“What about you, Zhu? Does your gaming name have a cool meaning or backstory?” Cedrick asked.

“Well, my first name is Zhu, and my last name is Long. I used to have a pretty baller handle, but I had to get rid of it because it hurt someone's feelings.”

Khiva shot him a concerned look. “Isn’t that a bit risky? Some of the people that play this game are crazy.”

UselessCynic’s tentacles twitched in agreement. “Yeah, you’d be fucked if you ever pissed off Sion or somebody like him.”

“What’s some lil hacker fink going to do with my name? The worst they could do is make a bunch of fake accounts and try to make me look bad. It’s not like I got a reputation worth protecting. Everybody already knows I am a weird asshole.”

Khiva continued to press him. “What if they dox you? You’ve deleted a lot of characters. One of those crazier players might actually try to stab you if they found out where you lived.”

“My blubber would protect me. Anybody that comes at me will be sucked by my gravitational pull and crushed between three hundred folds of fat.”

“Alright. Whatever you say, Zhu. How about you, GushingGranny? That names gotta come with a story!”

“Uhhhh….”

******

“Gah piss off, woman!” Blahyi abruptly shouted, startling the others.

“Who are you screaming at?” LDS asked crossly.

“My fiancé. She’s shaking the shit out of me.”

“You have a fiancé?”

Zhu laughed at the genuine astonishment in Cedrick’s voice. Blahyi’s offense was even funnier.

“Not anymore, he doesn’t,” Zhu quipped. “Trying to cut into somebody’s Conquest time is a deal breaker.”

“No way I am breaking up with my girl, especially not when our Conquest days are over.”

“Damn it! Don’t remind me!”

“You should try getting one yourself, Zhu,” Khiva suggested. “Might help fill the hole in your life.”

“Fill a hole by filling a hole, eh?” UslessCynic’s joke triggered many eye rolls.

“I already have eighteen,” Zhu japed.

“I’m talking about a real girl, not your creepy ass digital harem,” Khiva snorted.

“Hmm. Nah. Not interested.”

“More like you can’t get one,” LDS sniped.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Zhu readily admitted. “But even if I could get one, I wouldn’t want one.”

“Why not?” Khiva asked.

“Why would I need a woman when I have my hands and a vivid imagination?”

Another sequence of synchronized eye rolls occurred.

“C’mon dude,” Blahyi said skeptically. “Be real. Why don’t you want one?”

“Eh, it mainly boils down to me being weird. That, and I don’t like to gamble.”

“The fuck are you going on about? What does gambling have anything to do with this?”

“Heh. Sounds like he got burnt by one of those weird anime loot box phone games,” LDS chuckled.

“They’re called gachas,” UselessCynic chipped in somewhat defensively.

“Of course you’d know what they’re called,” LDS said with a sneer. “Is that what happened, Zhu? Did you empty all your piggy banks for a bunch of 2d girlfriends before you got into Conquest and decided to save money by making your own?”

“Pfft. I barely touch my phone. I’ll have you know that wasting money on digital waifus has been a very recent development.”

“Then what were you talking about? C’mon spill! I wanna hear this before I have to disconnect,” Blahyi demanded.

“Well, back when I used to entertain the idea of becoming a productive member of society, I used to read up on the stock market and crap. Rule twelve of investing is that you don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Well, that is what you are doing when you get yourself a girlfriend or a boyfriend. Who's to say that they won’t run their hands through your pockets when you’re not looking? Or cheat on you? Or slide a sickle over your throat while you're asleep?”

“Who the fuck keeps a sickle around?” Hustleman guffawed.

“Geez, Zhu. Paranoid much?” Khiva snorted. “With that logic, I guess you should also never drive because you might get in a car accident.”

“I don’t. I’m Asian, remember?”

“Oh god Zhu. I don’t think I ever met anyone that has made as many racist Asian jokes as you do.”

“Yeah, kind of makes me think he’s just a white guy pretending to be one,” LDS muttered suspiciously.

“My name is Zhu. That is as chinky as it gets. But as I was saying, let’s say, for the sake of argument, that whoever you're humping isn’t a total psycho. They still might get bored and piss off. Imagine being married to somebody for fifteen years and they decide to divorce you out of nowhere. Just think about all the time and energy that was invested in that relationship and it amounting to nothing in the end. That’d be pretty annoying.”

“Well, you can’t let fear of what might happen stop you from living your life,” Khiva told Zhu. “And just because something doesn’t end up lasting doesn’t mean it was a waste of time. I mean, just look at us now! Think of all the hours that we spent building bases and recruiting armies. Win or lose, all that is going to be gone soon. But would you have considered all the fun experiences we had worthless just because they were finite?”

“Huh.” Zhu gazed at a misshapen runt trying to slip out of his clutches. “I guess you got me there.” He squeezed until the pygmy popped like a tube of toothpaste. “Still, I’ll pass. Like I said, that was only reason numero uno.”

“Honestly Zhu—and I really don’t mean any offense—but it just sounds like you’ve got some insecurity issues and you’re trying to come up with excuses why you don’t want a girlfriend so, you don’t have to admit to having them. I am sure you’ve already heard this before, but women dig confidence. If you stopped constantly making jokes at your own expense, maybe you’d be able to catch some girl’s eye.”

“Me? Insecure?” Zhu scoffed. “One of my few virtues is that I don’t care what anybody thinks of me. The other is that I am honest with myself. Grass grows, birds fly, sun shines, and I disgust women. It's just how it is.”

LDS flashed Zhu a mocking grin. “You sounded a bit defensive there, Zhu. Not really selling the idea that you got that don’t give a fuck attitude you just claimed to have.”

“Ah, don’t get all huffy on me, LongDong. I misspoke. Of course, I care about your opinion, my fuzzy little angel.” LDS recoiled when Zhu blew him a mocking kiss. “Seriously though, I just don’t want a girlfriend.”

“Well, you’re young, so there’s no need for you to rush. For that same reason, you shouldn’t be already deciding that you’ll never marry or even get a girlfriend. You have plenty of time! Explore your options. Maybe try dieting and exercising if you’re really as big as you say you are. Ten years ago, I was convinced that the bachelor’s life was the greatest thing, but settling down and having a kid turned out to be the best decision I ever made. I’ll admit, you’re one of the strangest guys I met. So maybe you would be fine without ever having a relationship. But, even if that is the case, you’ll never know whether you are missing out or not unless you try.”

“Look, if you're happy with your marriage, then good for you,” Zhu said with absolute sincerity. He imagined nothing made The Watcher’s teeth itch more than a healthy relationship. “But I think I am just wired differently. I won’t lie. Sometimes the idea of having a girlfriend sounds cool, but then I remember all the drawbacks and the realities of it. Like, from what I hear, compromise is the key to every successful relationship.”

Zhu ripped off a ghoul’s head and crushed its skulls. “Fuck that! I already got to do a bunch of shit that I don’t like. I don’t want to do a bunch of work just to get my dick wet. Besides, let’s be real. I ain’t exactly what you call a catch. So, If I did actually try to find a girlfriend, I’d have to settle for somebody that is as ugly as me. Personally, I’d rather lose it than use it in that case.”

Khiva shook his head. “Girls aren’t as shallow as guys. I know this guy who looks like a warthog, and he ended up with a solid eight.”

“Well, Zhu is not going to win anyone over with his personality,” LDS pointed out.

“Exactly!” Zhu beamed, acting as if LDS had given him the highest of compliments. “So, the only way I’d ever get a hot chick is if I flashed a bunch of cash. But anyone that isn’t a dumbass realizes that is a disaster in the making.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to be doing that. The second you start putting out that Mercedes and Rolex vibe, a bunch of gold-diggers will pop out of the nearest manhole covers and rush you like in all those zombie movies.”

“Shut up Cynic. You’re making the idea sound more appealing,” Zhu chuckled.

His fellow degenerate gave him an odd look. “How does that sound remotely appealing?”

“Gotta respect the drive at that point. If some woman climbed out of a friggin sewer just so she could get her hand in my pocket, I’d feel obligated to hand her my entire wallet.”

“Still, don’t you think you should give up so soon, Zhu,” Khiva advised. “Just spending the rest of your life by yourself sounds kind of sad.”

“Eh, personally, I think I’m kind of lucky. I think it would suck if I needed someone else in my life just to be happy.”

“Good thing Violator didn’t hear you say that. You would have broken her heart,” GushingGranny joked.

“There is nothing between us, you fucking retard.” The others froze. It was perhaps the only time they had ever heard any real menace in Zhu’s voice. In a flash, the jester buried his hostility behind a genial question, “By the way, Cynic, did you see that funny cartoon I sent you yesterday?”

UselessCynic nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I did.” The two friends took a deep breath and screamed, “Mmmmmmm, I smell MARIJUANAAAAAA!”

******

Scarface’s departure was abrupt. So much so, the three remaining players didn’t realize he had left until Cedric tripped on his discarded armor.

“Wow, really? That guy just left without saying a word?” Cedric fumed.

“So?” Zhu shrugged.

“We’ve hung out for years! We’re practically family! This might have been the last time any of us saw each other and he didn’t even say goodbye.”

“Family? We barely know each other, Cedrick. I bet you’ll forget that any of us existed a few years from now.”

Fatigue had put Khiva in a poor mood. “You’re right, Zhu, you don’t know us, so don’t act like you do. Personally, I plan on keeping in touch with a lot of people. That included you. I might reconsider if you keep acting like a colossal prick.”

“Hah! Better scratch me off that list. I’ve always been a colossal prick.”

“Just ignore him, Cedrick. I am sure Scar had a good reason for leaving the way he did.”

“Typical Khiva, always assuming the best of people. If I didn’t know better, I’d peg you as a high-hat. What about you Cedrick? Do you think white eyes go to heaven?”

“No.”

“Then how come yours is still pale as yogurt?” Although Conquest’s character creation system offered limitless possibilities, the one thing players could not alter was their eye color. Many complained about this feature, but Zhu was glad the developers kept to their guns. Too many cowards tried to conceal their true nature behind anonymity.

“I am still in my thirties. I have plenty of time.”

“Eh, I might not be the most responsible of guys, but that’s not something you really should put off.”

“Do we have to have to talk about this?”

“Why not? You said you considered us part of your family. Let’s get to know each other! Not like we have anything better to do. So, what’s your plan? You going to save up for a euthanization center? Become a self-made orphan? Or are you going to take a risk and make a suicide pact with your wife?” When Cedrick refused to disclose any information, Zhu turned to Khiva. “What about you? How did you earn your red?”

“Why are you being such a dick right now?”

“I’m bored. I also made a bet with Cynic. If you got yours clean, you should speak up and give Cedrick some ideas.”

After a protracted silence, Khiva spoke up.

“My dad got pancreatic cancer a while back. Instead of spending his last years suffering, he let me euthanize him a month after his diagnosis.”

“Did anyone contest your right?” Zhu asked.

“No. I’m an only child.”

“That is pretty clean,” Zhu admitted with a grin. “Guess I owe Cynic money.” That statement earned him a furious glare. Unperturbed by Khiva’s rage, Zhu continued to pester him with questions. “What about your dad? Did he get his red as easily as you did?”

“I don’t know. Most people have the tact to not ask those kinds of questions, Zhu.”

“Why? It’s something we all got to deal with. What’s the point of keeping it hush-hush?”

“In that case, why don’t you tell us how you got that silver eye you're so proud of?”

“Ah, but that’s different. Silvers are entitled to keep their stories secret. Lend us an air of mystery.”

******

“Okay, I’ve had enough. It’s bedtime.” Cedrick announced two hours past midnight.

“Take care, Cedrick.”

“You too, Khiva.”

“What, no bye for me?” Cedrick’s armor clattered to the ground. “Hmph! What a hippopotacrit!”

“I think you burned your bridge with him.”

“Eh, no matter how today went, I doubt I’d ever talk to him again.”

“Even if that is the case, you really need to develop a filter; you’d get more friends that way.”

“Is somebody really your friend if you have to act differently around them?” Khiva didn’t answer that question. “Besides, friends are for nerds. I don’t need them.”

“I considered you a friend.”

“Aw, don’t take it personally, Khiva! If it makes you feel better, I liked you and some of the other guys a lot more than the people I hang out with in real life.”

“But you don’t consider any of us your friends?”

“Nope. Friends are supposed to be for you through thick and thin, or whatever. I sure as shit am not doing that. The second hanging out with someone becomes a hassle, I’m going to dump their ass.”

Khiva shook his head. “So, if I am not your friend, what do you consider me?”

“A back scratcher.”

“A back scratcher?” Khiva repeated with an amused snort.

“You know, the ‘I scratch your back, you scratch my back’ thing. If somebody I get along with needs some help, I cover for them in hopes that they would repay the favor one day. If they do, we’re fellow backscratchers until one of us drops the ball.”

Khiva shook his head again, though he was smiling this time. “You’re quite the character, Zhu. I’m going to miss having you around, even if the feeling is not reciprocal.”

“You heading out?”

Khiva nodded. “Yeah, I don't think my wife would appreciate it if I passed out from dehydration.”

“I suppose that is a valid concern.”

Khiva gave him a sidelong glance. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“No need to worry about me! I can live off my blubber for months. Now get out of here! I want to hog the glory of beating Conquest all to myself.”

“Heh, later Zhu.”

“Goodbye, Khiva.”

******

“Valiant warriors that consist of me, myself, and I! A motley band of vandals pound at our gate and clamor for our noble Han blood! They may outnumber us eight hundred million to one, but as long as we fight together, they will never tear down this wall!”

Three seconds later, Zhu’s shoddily constructed wall of corpses collapsed beneath his weight. A mob of ghouls immediately swarmed him.

“You want my meat? Fine! Take it! You’ll just be hungry again fifteen minutes later!”

******

Zhu ignored the column of enemies waddling after him and focused his attention on the lone ghoul wriggling in his grasp;

“Mr. Otter, how many licks does it take to get to the creamy center of a Dootsie Bop?” Zhu pitched his voice to an obnoxious degree as he spoke to an imaginary mustelid.

Zhu’s voice changed timber again. “Well, let's find out. A one,” Barbs erupted from his tongue when he dragged his captive’s face towards his mouth. A flick of his tongue nearly peeled off his victim’s cheek. “A two. A thrrrrreeee.”

Crunch.

“Oops. Guess the world will never know.”

******

“Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall.”

******

Thirty-three bottles of—wait. Was it thirty-three or thirty-four? Eh, screw it, this was a dumb idea anyway."

******

Zhu couldn’t recall the last time he felt lonely.

Before he discovered Conquest, he had spent most of his free time in isolation. That wasn’t to say he was anti-social. He viewed companionship as life’s seasoning. When applied at an appropriate time and with moderation, it could enhance his experiences, but he could easily live without it.

As it turned out, spending a literal day mindlessly jibbing a horde of zombies was an unpalatable experience when there was nobody to trade banter with. Unable to focus on this tedious challenge, his mind drifted into uncomfortable territory. Zhu couldn’t keep himself from pondering all the “what-ifs” in his life, particularly his most recent decisions. What would he be doing now if he hadn’t ditched school last week? Would he have been able to convince his mother to give him another chance if he had just tried? What would his life have been like if he focused his energy on meaningful things instead of video games?

Zhu shook his head, trying to quash those irritating thoughts. There was nothing more pointless than dwelling on roads that weren’t taken.

******

In their desperation to understand the incomprehensible riddle that was existence, humans saw meaning and metaphors everywhere. They looked to the stars on matters of destiny, perceived unusual weather patterns as miracles or omens, and ascribed grandiose ideas to pieces of fabric hanging from a stick. Even after The Watcher declared he created them for the sole purpose of livening up his sandbox, symbols remained ingrained in humanity's psyche. To Zhu’s annoyance, that quirk had been passed down to him.

As he continued to slash away, he started to suspect the developers were trying to impart some subliminal message onto him. Barring the beasts that inhabited Pugna, the naturally occurring NPCs that populated Conquest’s moons behaved like living beings. They only attacked when they were confident of victory and retreated when the tables turned on them. They did not mindlessly throw themselves into a meat grinder.

Yet here he was, cutting down thousands upon thousands of weaklings whose only viable weapon was their refusal to give up. Once he paid more attention to their creatively bankrupt designs, he became convinced that these wretched, moronic, doggedly persistent husks were intended to be gross parodies of him and the other players that had entered this room.

It was common knowledge that the developers looked down on customers. Normally, Zhu couldn’t care less about what those condescending bastards thought of him so long as they continued to wow him with their game, but in his exhausted state, his armor cracked. Worse, he could not deny their mocking aspersions.

Only an utter lowlife would have been able to make it this far.

Zhu wasn’t a fool. He always realized he was the definition of a loser, but it was the first time he felt like one in years. He tried to let out a self-deprecating chuckle, but all that came out was a caricature of his trademark laugh. Disheartened, he allowed the tide of ghouls to envelop him. Even now, the weaklings struggled to harm his character, breaking their teeth and fingertips on his armor. Zhu could have easily swatted them aside; he just couldn’t muster the will to do so.

He lost all hope of achieving victory. If by some miracle he cleared out this stage, there was no way Sovereign and the others were still pressing on. No matter what he did, he’d just find himself staring at a game over screen.

Sighing, Zhu stared up at the ceiling, the bitter taste of failure welling up in his throat. As the boy wallowed in his self-loathing, more and more ghouls piled on top of him. The only thing keeping him from being submerged in complete darkness was the tiny ray of light streaming through a small gap right above his silver eye.

A reedy ghoul moved in to snuff out that light. Moaning, it slowly crawled forward. Zhu watched its ponderous advance. He stared at its miserable grimace, and was filled with disgust.

Was that the sort of face he was making right now? Did he really want to end the happiest chapter of his life on this note? Was he really so eager to return to the empty bathroom that awaited him?

The ghoul had just gotten into position to entomb Zhu when a scaly hand shot out of the pile and snapped its neck.

“Sputnik!”

Screaming at the top of his lungs, Zhu burst out of the hill of bodies. Scalding fury burned away his exhaustion. Ashamed by his moment of weakness, Zhu blindly lashed out with his teeth and jaws, slaughtering anything within reach.

“You’re not taking this away from me! Come at me, you miserable holocaust victim-looking motherfuckers! I’ll put you all back in your graves!”

Zhu loosed every curse, slur, and insult in his repertoire as he carved his way through the swarm of cadavers. When he ran out of new profanities to shout, he screamed ‘Sputnik’ over and over again.

******

Nearly two days passed when Zhu bit off the last ghoul’s head.

Zhu sluggishly raised a fist and let out a sarcastic cheer. He had done it. He had beaten Conquest’s final challenge. It was a feat barely worth acknowledging, but a historic one nonetheless. Zhu realized he would never receive any acclaim for this accomplishment, but perhaps when the developers moved on to their next revolutionary project, one of them might recall his name. It was as good of a legacy a lout like him could have hoped for.

Zhu let out a titter when his arm dropped against his will. He was on the verge of collapse and half suspected he would never rise again. Zhu bit his tongue till it bled. At this moment, he really didn’t care if he died on the toilet, he just wanted to last long enough for the credits to finish rolling. His mind dulled by exertion; Zhu didn’t notice the ball of plasma hurtling towards him until it was too late.

He let out a glass shattering scream. The flames didn’t just burn his digital avatar; they subsumed him in agony. Unable to bear the pain, he collapsed.

Thankfully, his suffering dissipated quickly. Gasping for breath, Zhu slowly pushed himself off the ground. He fell back down and let out a strangled scream when he saw his hands.

His body had reverted to his normal form! After all he went through, he had failed and been sent back to the real world! He pounded the ground, his eyes wet with frustration. Were the developers truly this cruel? Couldn’t they just let him have this?

Zhu forced himself to take a deep breath. No amount of whining and ranting would alter this disappointing outcome, nor would it improve his mood. He would retire to his bedroom. Perhaps when he got some much needed rest, he'd be able to commend the developers for their utter cruelty.

The boy rubbed his visor, instinctively trying to wipe the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He yelled when something coarse spilled over his lashes. Muttering, he reflexively dabbed at his eyes again. He let out another curse when that just worsened the irritation. Blinking furiously, he looked at his palms and jerked back in surprise. Sand covered his hands. Puzzled, Zhu reached for his helm. A surge of anxiety crept up his spine when his probing hands met flesh instead of plastic. Bottling his exhaustion, he rose to his feet.

His jaw dropped when he realized ‌he was standing in the middle of a dusty red wasteland. This new locale was barren, even by desert standards. There weren't any signs of life or even rocks for miles around. The only thing within range of his sight was an infinite expanse of sand and the equally vast sky.

The heavens, at least, weren't nearly as empty as the lands below it. Zhu had seen plenty of artistic renditions of the night sky in its natural state, but he had to admit, actually seeing the moon and hundreds of twinkling stars firsthand was a humbling experience.

Zhu didn’t get to enjoy the view for long. He looked up when he heard an ominous rumble. His throat hitched as he watched a ball of plasma chew its way through the atmosphere.

Recalling the agony he experienced earlier, Zhu darted away. Panting, he chanced a look back. His heart sank. The fireball already eclipsed its predecessor many times over. Even if he had gotten an hour's head start, he still wouldn’t have had a chance of getting out of the miniature sun’s radius. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself for the impact.

“Just get on with it, you bastards!”

“Where would be the fun in that?”

Startled, Zhu’s eyes shot open. It was still uncomfortably bright, but he could see again. A thinner column of black flame had formed at the center of the massive configuration, dimming the intensity of the glare. The new feature gave the ball of fire an uncanny resemblance to an eye.

The Watcher’s eye Zhu realized after a beat.

The eldritch pupil locked onto his puny form.

“Congratulations, little worm. You are among the first to pass my trial.”