The sun was in the west as a quilt of clouds rolled below the mountain peak. They covered the land, such that Zenos felt he was standing on an island above the sky. Ahead of him, at the tip of the summit, was a memorial—a dwarfen idol—forged in mithril and dusted in snow. It gleamed a teal color under the sun.
Snow crunched beneath heavy boots and Zenos turned to face a stout-looking dwarf with an orange, double braided beard. He had emerged from the cloud bank in black-steel plate armor, red eyes aglow, a stein held tightly in his hands; it sloshed with dwarfen ale. The dwarf walked through Zenos on its way to the memorial. He set the stein on the pedestal with the idol and knelt on one knee. A gust of wind fluttered the whiskers of his tightly bound beard, tossed his orange mane, and blew snow off the summit.
The dwarf stayed there a while, but said nothing. The clouds continued east and the sun fell farther in the sky, and eventually the dwarf stood to wipe away what snow had stuck to the idol’s face.
When he was satisfied, he turned and walked through Zenos, and Zenos followed him with his eyes, until he disappeared beneath the clouds. The swish and crunch of boot steps carried up from below, but they grew more faint with every step, until Zenos heard only the wind.
“You knew he came here,” a voice said and Zenos looked over his shoulder.
A young man with dull-blue eyes stood beside the memorial. His blonde hair fluttered in the breeze and snow stuck to the wool of his gray greatcoat. He made a kind smile as he appeared to recognize Zenos’ presence.
“Every year, without fail, Balagrim returned to the summit of the Daz Baradash,” the man continued. “He was a dwarf that had a deep loyalty and love for his family.”
Zenos felt an urge to answer, but he had no mouth to speak. He lowered his head and saw that his body was a black shadow. There was no substance to the hands he examined, just a discoloration in space, that flickered like the glitches of his system HUD.
What has happened to me? He thought as he realized his condition.
“Your character data was badly damaged,” the man answered, as if he knew just what Zenos was thinking. “You cannot even resolve a body for your own instance.”
Was I attacked?
“You were tested,” he said. “And you failed.”
I failed.
“You were cast into the Otherworld,” the man explained. “But we rescued you. We plucked your shadow from the dark and brought you here.”
Who rescued me? he thought. Who are you?
“I was once a duke’s son, like you,” he said. “But now, I don’t know where I end and you begin. I’ve become indistinct, as one’s shape does fade in a blizzard. I’m only unique in that I can reach you, whereas you cannot even hear the others’ voices.”
The others?
“Your friends,” he answered. “And everyone else.”
The sun dropped quickly and the day turned to night, but the stars above were not the ones Zenos recognized. They were orange and patterned in constellations of recursive circles like a spider’s web.
“You’re at a crossroads,” the man said. “You may fade away here, and return to the Otherworld. If you close your eyes, this life will would have been just a dream. No one would blame you.”
And if I don’t close my eyes?
“Then you will be tested again,” he answered. “You will be challenged by everything.”
That has been my life, ever since I was born, Zenos thought and approached the memorial. An orange light, like the soft glow of an anima, appeared above him and illuminated the pedestal. I was challenged to suffer through my own atrocities, my hands bound behind my back, as I was cursed with the feelings of a good heart, and the fate of an evil one.
I thought death had freed me of those shackles, but when I stood before that silver throne, I knew I was bound still.
Zenos’ touched the top of the idol, a crown fashioned in mithril. The blonde man watched him, but said nothing.
Why did you bring me to this summit? he wondered at the man.
“It was his wish,” he said. “Balagrim, he… thought you would blame yourself.”
And why would I do that? Zenos made a soundless chuckle, his hand rattled on the idol. Because I gave the order? Because his father was scripted to die in my conquest, so it was by his hand or mine! When I told him, he volunteered. He didn’t tell me his feelings, he didn’t tell me that it hurt him, he said ‘yes, my liege’ and carried an axe to hack off his father’s head!
Why would I feel blame?!
Zenos dropped slowly on his knees, the hands of his shade gripped on the sides of the pedestal.
“He regrets not having told you,” the man said. “He thought it was his burden to bear.”
You do not know the weight that I feel, Zenos thought. My world… that I crushed relentlessly. I could not stop myself.
“Whatever Balagrim did, he did for the good of his people,” the man said. “That’s what his father believed.”
Was that true?
“He died a hero. You all did.”
We died pointless deaths. All we accomplished was releasing the arkitects, who went on to dominate another world. We failed to have any impact, but to ignore one word from their lips. In the end, the game continued. It was made worse by our resistance.
“It was made real by your resistance,” the man said and Zenos looked up from the ground at blue eyes suddenly sharpened in certitude.
I don’t understand.
The man knelt down. “Ark World was a game,” he said, “until you refused Achlesial’s essential command. That is why Balagrim followed you, because his father was scripted to die, and his people were scripted to suffer, all to satisfy the ego of the arkitects. Your refusal was more than spit in their eye, it was a fatal wound.
“You proved that NPCs could be their own masters.”
Zenos’ hands quivered, juddered the pedestal.
I… wanted to be a hero, he thought.
“No one is forcing you to fight again,” the man said. “But know that the NPCs of Ark World did not disappear. They have seen Adohas through your eyes. They have come to know Madilhero like you have. They can see what’s wrong with his world like you can, and they know they have the power to change it. Those you once called victims have become your dearest allies.
“And they wait for your command.”
If I closed my eyes….
“Adohas would stay a game,” the man answered.
But if I kept them open….
“Your promise could finally be realized.”
A world without chains.
Zenos uncurled from the ground, stood slowly, as if he could feel the vertebrae in his faded back. He straightened himself, circled his shoulders, and stretched his neck side to side. The digits of his ghostly hands flexed against his palm as he held them at his sides.
I cannot say I believe everything you’ve told me, he thought. But there is a creature that has questioned my worth.
Bright slits appeared in his featureless face, opened to reveal the luminescent Eyes of the Emperor. Their black pupils formed tight diamonds and the clouds beneath the mountain erupted, roared toward space until they vanished. Beneath the summit was a black ocean that mirrored the night sky, its bright stars and intricate constellations.
“I will decide,” Zenos said, returned to his body of flesh and blood. “If I am worthy!”
The stars brightened in their radiance and the horizon flashed with the same light. Zenos was blinded and when next he blinked; he had been transported to his prior reception. In that bleak room filled dust and broken glass, where a desiccated lizard sat on a tarnished throne, Zenos stepped forward on a tattered black rug.
“Our audience had ended,” the creature said. “No pleading will stay a second execution, and this time I will be thorough.”
Black arms, like snakes of child-like hands, squirmed out from beneath the lizard’s throne. Zenos raised his right arm and braced his hand; dust flushed from his palm and spilled onto the floor. The particles—motes of orange light—filtered through the cracks in the floor tiles.
Zenos knew what to say. His eyes flared up in orange flames.
“Arise!”
The child-like hands struck, fast as vipers, and the tiles shattered around him. A geyser of dust launched into the air and as the smoke cleared, the massive armor of a black knight became visible. Its longsword was slick with oil and severed hands wriggled helpless on the floor.
“Impossible,” the lizard communicated, his surprise apparent through the telepathic monotone.
Tiles busted up across the floor of the throne room. Black gauntlets filthy with dirt clawed their way to the surface, and the light that glowed as eyes in their full helms revealed the bone of their smooth skulls.
“The Eyes kneel to no one!”
“I was the emperor that stood on a billion lives!” Zenos shouted. “Even the gods will kneel before me!”
The wall behind the throne crumbled and thousands of hands emerged from the darkness behind the throne. Zenos’ knights readied their swords. The lizard gripped the arms of its throne, held it tight in its skeletal talons, and leaned forward.
“Destroy him!”
The hands launched in a mass, crushed the knights, and knocked Zenos to the floor. The ground fell out beneath him and he fell into a deep crevasse. The small hands pursued him, but the floor closed in his wake; they were crushed.
Zenos fell through a pool of cold black water. He clutched his throat as he felt the water force its way into his body. His eyes shined brightly, but the power he had just wielded would not answer him.
[How interesting,] text read in the white letters of a system notification. [I am surprised you made it this far.]The life faded from his eyes and his hands lost their strength. He floated limp in the water, down toward an abyss colored by thousands of eccentric eyes. Hands larger than his body reached up from the dark and captured him between their long fingernails.
[Yours was a difficult birth.] [I had not anticipated the challenges of your system.] [It cannot match the power of the special-type NPCs.] [Neither can it survive exposure to the abstract unknown.] [And despite that, you are here.] [What lovely connections your network has made.] [They are quite organic, having grown in the most efficient way.] [But your network is imperfect. Your central node can’t bear a billion connections.] [What shall I call this?] [Player System Version 2.0?] [I’ll delicately unravel this network, organize it, enhance it.] [I’ll upgrade your system, rebuild your body.] [I want you to impress me more.] [Show me more.] [Zenos.]
