Continue Online (Part 3, Realities) (25 page)

The partially melted chain was looped around my arm as the monster circled its limbs around both my legs. Our actions were disturbingly in tandem. I yanked the barrel closer and used numbed fingers to grip the edge.

A glow disrupted my
[Echo Vision]
and overlayed portions with colored regions. I turned to see a giant maw, like an octopus mouth only disturbingly close. That thing would be big enough to chomp me to bits with only a few workings of its jaw.

Between us was the bomb. I wiggled, struggled, and shoved the giant object in the maw's direction. This might distract the monster. Only now the explosive triggers sitting on top of the bomb's conjoined barrels was now out of reach.

"Dammit!" I said while reading a window that only showed the digestive acids hitting me harder.

My sword reactivated. The weapon brought a brighter ambient light to the area. My lasers' coloring mixed oddly with the boss monsters gray glow. I quickly sliced toward the monster's limbs which were waving around. The action was enough to drive it back from my
[Suppository Explosive]
. Enough room to get close and set up the bomb.

"Gotcha!" I shouted, then smiled in triumph. Something finally went my way.

The sword was tossed away. Both palms slammed down on two different buttons as the monster's limbs waved frantically. They appeared to be worried about touching the flying sword which stayed active. Too many prior encounters which damaged the octopus mouthed beast. My energy reached zero and the sword flickered off.

Finally, the flattened monster arm closed in on me. I slipped backward with one hand out to prop me up. A fallback maneuver practiced over many hours in the ARC dance program. Another shift of feet got me ready to shoot backward. This body's
[Reaction]
and
[Limberness]
was high enough to pull off this move. Combat training on the
[Wayfarer Seven]
helped.

Limbs shot over my old position, I twisted and dove away in a forward roll. More moves practiced in a group dance program. The kind of ability needed to swiftly get from one part of the stage to another. Months in Continue Online had helped me grow in applying those abilities to combat.

Another hop, this time I failed and got knocked down. Behind me, the conjoined barrel explosive was counting down with giant numbers and a loading circle swirling around above it. Whatever I had done would work and my new goal involved getting far, far away.

Only there wasn't enough health. Corrosion was stacked incredibly high, and even if I made it four yards, or ten, it wouldn't be enough. Fine, escape wouldn't happen. I turned to watch the final seconds count down. The monster grabbed at all sorts of objects. Some limbs were pulling in bits of bone from the ground for eating.

The marker hit two seconds left. My hand hung onto the
[Leviathan]
's inner walls with
[Anchor]
but the metal content wasn't high enough to stop my movement entirely. Another loop of coils about my remaining leg looked blurry to
[Echo Vision]
.

My game interface had some clarity. The countdown timer swept around in a circle to one, and finally zero. There was a click. A momentary hiss preceded the sudden engulfment of pressure.
[Echo Vision]
overloaded with a bright white flash.

There was pain. Terrible pain came with a strange euphoria. Part pride that my body could still feel pain after all the damage this ARC and real life had put upon me. Some happiness because of the last minute struggle to complete my mission and set right what my earlier reckless flight had started. A vague feeling of triumph as a huge red set of numbers popped up displaying insane levels of damage to the
[Leviathan]
.

"User Legate, there's something happening here..." Hal Pal's two tones stood out like separate people speaking the same line at once. Both held a hint of fright and awe. I could barely register it as my ARC feedback slowly lowered in intensity.

Then nothing but a message was left.

I opted to wait. Dusk and Hal Pal might be out here searching for me. Sitting here in-game would help calm me anyway. Out there my only recourse would be to run into the Trillium van and shake Hal Pal repeatedly. This existence here in-game was separated from the others in its consortium so the effort would be wasted.

There was no physical sensation tied to any actions. I had tried to shake my head but without an avatar in the game, there would be no ARC feedback. Moving around was possible but only because my body had been placed in a giant empty plain. Similar to the one I dealt with in Continue Online, only eggshell white.

I could have released from this current character and restarted on the
[Wayfarer Seven]
, maybe from there it would be possible to talk to Treasure, Emerald, or Iron and get assistance out to the others. There was a floating
[Synchronization Complete]
notice under my health bar. It meant that I could release and theoretically keep all my current game stats. Character point values paled in comparison to seeing if Hal's in-game consciousness was okay.

A lack of sensation accompanied my slow dance through whitespace. Sans a partner, sans music, sans sensation. I let thought go and moved. It felt pleasant to default back to the motions I had spent over a year learning. Some people knitted, others tapped feet, but this was my happy space.

Feeling slowly returned but my body still twisted in an empty landscape alone. I tried not to think about how strangely these moments mirrored my life after Xin passed. Dancing in an ARC program with a ghost. Flirting with the past and trying not to let the memories slip through my hand.

Believing that I existed alone without support from anyone would be a slap in the face to my sister, to my niece, to the work Doctor Litt had put in. I was objective enough to understand a few very strong people helped. Their actions helped keep me afloat until I found a way to stumble on my own. Despite the intellectual awareness of their support, life without Xin often felt lonely. Empty, like this white space.

I didn't like it here. I didn't like being alone.

My eyes closed and I tried to remember her face. An image burned into my mind through thousands of hours inside the ARC. Her eyes were the best feature. When she looked at me there was a twinkle of amusement that made everything else seem insignificant.

Both hands went up. One raised up to a side and the other around an imaginary waist. Were she here we could dance, the idea brought comfort. It wouldn't matter which Xin anymore. The original Xin had been more than I dared hope to be with, and any form of a second chance was a kindness fate never needed to allow.

It felt a bit easier as if the ARC registered my thoughts and provided a small amount of feedback. I could practically feel Xin's fingertips brushing against mine. My own hands were soft, hers a little rough from work. The curve of her body as we stood chest to chest crawled out of my memory and felt present. Her light footsteps would barely whisper upon a wooden dance floor but a slight sliding sound accompanied me. Maybe something else was in this emptiness with me, because in this moment I didn't feel so alone.

Now I could almost see her face. A barely discernible outline so frail it might well be a mental illusion. Then again, inside the ARC, everything was a product of human minds seeing creations that didn't truly exist. Everything Xin was could be boiled down to an incredibly long list of ones and zeroes.

I tried to stop solving existential questions and went back to dancing. Moving across empty space gave the illusion of progress at least before things eventually returned to their starting positions. It helped me feel oddly at peace with being unable to escape the blast. Satisfied that my actions might have saved Hal Pal and Dusk's virtual existences. Maybe seeing a hint of Xin here was a reward.

The thin existence of Xin smiled like I had imagined hundreds of times over the years. Her expression was wide and would always lift both ears. A bit of her forehead would wrinkle in the past like I imagined it doing now.

"What do you think, babe? Will we make it? Or am I crazy?" I said as my delusion and I slowly spun. Still without music, though I had a partner and faint sensation.

Xin's image shrugged and her head fell to one side. A smile on her face, but it was dim. Even less present than it had been.

The hint of feeling faded and once again empty eggshell white oppressed everything else. I closed both eyes and detached my feelings for a moment in order to piece together what just happened. Was that Xin Yu's recreation within the ARC? Had she tried to visit me here in this other digital world? Could that even happen?

Dusk could cross through software boundaries. Hal Pal had shown it could as well though the cessation of its game character was problematic. Xin might be able to as well. I completed the quest to allow her genesis. We spoke through letters. Yet, meeting in person had only happened once. Maybe I wasn't good enough.

Scarier still, maybe she didn't feel the same. I bit one lip and shook my head. Our only conversation in person had been about the tale of Orpheus. Don't look back, keep moving forward. If I reached the other end she would be returned to me.

Xin wouldn't have come to me like that if she hated me. I had to keep hope, even if it was faint. A hint of her could keep me going for a bit longer. Long enough to sort out my sister, to sort out Doctor Litt and all these legal issues. I could get back to Continue Online and once again move forward.

A message popped up.

A sigh preceded my arm lifting to press the yes button. Hopefully, this was Hal Pal and Dusk. I would find out soon.

Session Fifty – Wake Up Call

Words were like static at first. I could see, but it blurred as if I was trying to dial into some low-quality video with encryption on it. After a few breaths the scene came together, sort of.

"User Legate. Can you understand me?" Hal Pal was speaking with more female than male. The face was concerned and his golden coloring lit up to overpower the dull iron.

My fellow
[Mechanoid]
repeated itself even slower. The AI's head moved in slow motion. For some reason, my ARC interface felt disjointed. Nothing connected right. Maybe this was an issue with the time dilation in this game. Ringing hit both ears and my vision briefly doubled up. Hal Pal's words were hard to hear or see.

I tried to move an arm and successfully failed. It took me four attempts to wiggle a finger. My feet felt absent. Not numb, just without any sensation. Having spent, who knows how long, dancing in the resurrection zone there should have been some feedback. Anything. Instead, I felt like I was paralyzed and half dreaming.

"What?" Oh Voices, that one word stuttered like a broken audio file looping. I coughed repeatedly and the remaining sentence came out. "What happened?"

There were other questions. How did I get here? Where is here? Shouldn't I be merged with little bits of gunk floating about in space monster defecation? Why didn't my legs work?

"Do you not see for yourself?" my friend asked. Having my question turned around felt like dealing with James again.

For a brief moment of paranoia, I worried that maybe this wasn't Hal Pal, that it was a Voice from Continue Online come to mess with me somehow. No, Voices and this Jeeves were different beings entirely. Hal Pal outside the machine had spoken to me about being in the game so my concern had no basis.

I didn't see much of anything. One eye kept slipping closed and felt unresponsive. They put me on drugs that did something very similar after my second incident. Muted everything, numbed even more, made it sluggish to tilt and look around.

A hint of blue was visible out of one eye. Images were still fuzzing in and out as the ARC simulated a half broken body. We seemed to be attached to Hal Pal's small life preserver in space. Thin tethers tied both of us
[Mechanoid]
s to the raft and the only thing missing was a bright orange coloring.

There was a third length wrapped around the life raft ring. I followed it drowsily over to see Dusk, head tilted to the side in an unspoken question. The four arms on my
[Messenger's Pet]
were weird compared the old wings.