The War (Play to Live: Book #6) (14 page)

 

Personalized sacral dagger: God Slayer.

A blade of damaged adamant that has tasted the blood of a Higher Being. It can no longer strike down celestial beings, but any mortal killed by it for sacrificial purposes will become randomly devoted to any of the sleeping gods who are temporarily resting in the Great Nothingness. With a little luck and the benevolence of the dagger’s owner, the sacrificed may become a priest.

Customization: This is a unique item, the only one of its kind in the world. At the moment of sacrifice, it is possible to summon a diety into our world.

 

These were pretty serious characteristics. The adamant did not survive the prolonged contact with the Sun God’s blood, and the blade got bent. But the immense amounts of energy that could have resulted in a real miracle had changed the weapon into something odd and frightening.

Sure it would be a lot of fun to cancel an enemy’s current religious status and redevote them to some long-forgotten unknown gods whose name is Legion. The Lord of an Oasis which dried up ten thousand years ago, or the Master of a Foul Swamp overgrown with a coniferous forest of the same age.

But taking into account the number of our enemies and the strict laws of the Universal Balance, the tiny chances of summoning a god would come into play sooner or later and bring Cthulhu, Azathoth and other such vile creatures back into existence.

My officers were giving me fearful looks. I scratched my burnt brow with the tip of the blade, wondering if I should drive this thing into the wall next to Lloth’s dagger. A quick blow from the side would cause it to break near the hilt as practice has already shown.

My greedy pig reached his burn-covered paws to me and begged me to keep the unique artifact. Life is hard and, given our circumstances, long. Who knows what sorts of unbelievable things it may yet send my way.

I decided to store the artifact in the far corner of my spatial pocket for now, then reached into the pile of ashes again, sifting it through my fingers.Could it really be that Fall had turned the ownerless items into pure energy?

Something jingled; my sensitive fingers finally ran across and object of value. It was a ring, very slim but surprisingly heavy, clearly made of the stuff from the lowest cells on the periodic table. I hoped it didn’t hum like some busted reactor.

I looked at its characteristics. The world was no longer coming apart and revealed the item’s details without lagging or distortions. What I saw drew a rapturous gasp from me.

 

Ring of True Flame. Divine artifact. Personal upon pickup.

Effect 1: +200% plasma resistance.

Effect 2: +100% fire spell power.

Customization: This is a unique item, the only one of its kind in the world. Created out of solar wind by the power of a Higher Being, the ring contains 24 cubic miles of the sun’s coronal mass. The artifact’s owner can break magical chains with willpower, releasing the elements they may contain.

 

My jaw dropped. I was holding a nuclear grenade! Rip out the pin, throw it at the enemy, and you will have wiped out everyone within a 9-mile radius.

The logical thing to do would have been to give the artifact to the clan’s top wizard, a School of Fire buff. But I had a better idea.

Stealthily looking around, I decidedly pocketed the ring.
My precious!

My greedy pig applauded, pleased with his student who just passed the Ninja-looting 101 final exam. But, as the gods were my witnesses, I didn’t do it out of greed. It was just that I couldn’t give an artifact of such caliber to someone else for safekeeping. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.

I once went hunting with this girl back in the real world. Watching her point her gun everywhere so carelessly almost gave me a heart attack. I found myself constantly dodging the barrel aimed right at my belly. Now imagine someone that careless in our castle. They might turn the Super Nova into a mile-wide plasma ball of plasma by simply lifting an eyebrow, Fallen One forbid! It was better for me to keep the artifact. What’s another heavy responsibility for me? I’m used to it.

I looked around. My officers stood nervously nearby. Pale faces flashed around us. The sounds of battle turned into cries of alarm and sometimes even hysterical shouting.

The entire world of the game had gone perma. Like an overripe fruit falls off the tree that bore it, so AlterWorld had detached from the reality of Earth and fell into the raging river of the macro-Universe.

Mom pushed her way through the crowd of anxious guards. She probed me in a hurry, then counted my limbs and heaved a sigh of relief. "In the chat, they said the Sun God burned you."

I gave her a reassuring smile, feeling relieved myself. A clan is a clan, but a family – a real family – is irreplaceable. Maybe I would even bring Dad back into existence some day. The question is, would it make him happy?

I shook my head, driving away the absurd thoughts. ''Mom, whoever hurts us won’t live to see another day! The Sun Prick got his ass kicked. Oh, and congrats! I have a baby brother now!"

That explained to Mom what was in that bundle I was holding on my arm. She raised her brows in astonishment, wide-eyed.

I handed her the infant. ''Can you look after him? He’s the son of the Fallen One and Macaria. Fall got knocked out and Macaria’s gone. You’ve probably seen the world status alert. I gave him my blood, and we heavily depend on each other now. Seriously. He and I will die on the same day.''

Mom gently held him to her chest. Her eyes filled with tears. "A foster child is as good as a grandson.''

Sensing desired food, the infant reached for the breasts hidden underneath the lettuce green priestly tunic.

I wrinkled my brow pensively. Of course the baby needed to be breast-fed at that age. God knows what he might turn into if he drinks blood. ''Our hounds just pupped. Maybe they can feed him? Like an ancient legendary hero. Plus Bomba’s expecting. She’ll have enough milk for a whole litter.''

Mom blushed slightly. ''I’ll breast-feed him myself!''

''Um…How?!''

The baby was impatiently squeezing her breasts and whimpering, demanding his rightful food ration.

''Well…As soon as he touched me, I felt that I will have milk. And…it’s gonna happen very soon! Max, I have to go!''

I shook my head in surprise. Divine will was sacred. Once the infant felt hungry, the world chose the path of least resistance and instantly provided a wet-nurse. ''All right then. But don’t leave the Super Nova. I appoint Snowie and his legionaries to protect my brother. It is inevitable that someone will try to kidnap him. I’ll go take care of business, then come check on you.''

After giving a series of orders, I saw Mom and the others to their portal, then gave a sigh of relief; now I had one less thing to worry about.
Hang on, Fall! I already gave the order; a portalist and a mule should arrive any second now. They’ll get you to the divine dorm in the Crypt
.
All three of you will dream together, frightening each other with your secret nightmares.

I beckoned to the Analyst and Orcus who had pleading looks on their faces. ''Report! Oh, and…has anyone seen my kitten?''

The Analyst replied impatiently, ''He’s at the foot of the mountain. Please, Sir, tell us, have we all gone perma?''

Everyone froze, awaiting my answer and ready to read my lips.

I listened to the celestial spheres, remembered how omniscience had failed when the two gods clashed, then slowly nodded. ''That’s right. We are on our own now. I don’t know if we have any connections with the real world left. But you can turn off the game servers. AlterWorld no longer needs them.''

''No connection, Max! None! We’re cut off from everything like a sunken submarine! Dan would’ve hung himself already if he could. He’s going crazy, smashing the virtual interface to bits. He’s got a wife and kids on Earth.''

I bit my lip. I had seen his family. They were great people, a legend among the Vets.

I ground my teeth and said, ''We’ll think of something. Tell the clan to stop panicking. I’ll do everything I can. Once our gods feel better, we’ll demand their help. Another oder; everyone is to attend public prayer twice a day in order to help the Dark Pantheon gods recover. They have given their best. Now two are in a coma, and one is confined to bed. Macaria has sacrificed herself to save her child. Only that crafty bitch Lloth still sits snugly in the shadows.''

My officers left the conversation to make a list of orders. I looked warily at the sky, regretting having mentioned the Spider goddess. What if she heard, Fallen One forbid? All our top players were off the field at that point. Very few were left standing, including myself. A team of invalids is what we were now.

But then, I did have quite a reputation with the gods. I had just killed two of them. Perhaps that was enough to scare away the eight-legged Lloth?

The chaos subsided. Clear orders, promises, and a few punches helped everyone overcome the initial shock. I even saw commandant Medved give a box on the ears to some warrior who had already succumbed to depression.

Many had this look as if they were plotting something. Some of the boys were unsteady on their feet like drunks. The only ones who didn’t fidget and even carried themselves straight and with assurance were the NPCs. I wondered if they even understood the situation.

A few dwarves nearby were trying to break the gravestone of some Lightsider with their huge hammers. They must have heard about Yavanna’s heroic feat.
Well, go ahead, try to saw through gold

Groups of goblins and low-level dwarves at the foot of the fortress were hastily picking up unattended goodies: archangel feathers, basilisk armor plates, colorful innards of various creatures, and so on. And although these goblins could sort of be considered part of Harlequin’s brigade (disobeying orders, I bet), these dwarves didn’t look like any I’ve ever seen before.

Everything was a mess. The world was in pieces, and someone would have to sort through this pile of debris and glue it back together…

My snow leopard’s muzzle emerged from behind the mountain edge. He looked happy yet somewhat offended. Panting, the cub climbed the steep slope, swiftly walked over to me on his chubby paws and head-butted me in the knee.

I petted the purring cub with delight. ''There’s a clever boy. Sorry we got split up. I forgot to drop anchor and got blown right off the mountain.''

The Analyst came out of his trance and blinked, changing focus.

I asked one of the most pressing questions: ''How many of us are left?''

Widowmaker looked at the mighty ogre in astonishment as the latter respectfully lifted the Fallen One off the ground, then reported: ''Surprisingly many from our Alliance. Seems that all the 17,000 permas made it. There were 30,000 non-perma players online at the time of the disaster. Most got kicked out. Only one in five got sucked into AlterWorld, and many are not happy about it. The Valley looks like a nuthouse: yelling, wailing, and insane laughter.”

I could only imagine. When I had found out about going perma, I danced with joy, while these people each reacted each in their own way.

The chaos hadn’t befallen AlterWorld alone. The entire Earth was shaking with cries in different languages…

…Somewhere in Moscow, a man beat his fists against the capsule he was in until his knuckles bled, begging for a second chance…

… In the building nextdoor, a little girl scratched on the translucent plastic of her father’s capsule like a kitten. Her broken fingernails left scarlet marks. Biting her lip, she kept repeating: “Daddy, daddy, come out!” But deep inside the child knew; her dad would never come home from work again…

… A thin man sat on the cold floor of his apartment, staring blankly at the wall. He had taken a risk, staked his all and lost…He had quit his promising job and pawned his apartment for an outrageous interest rate to buy three capsules – a family edition, “Two plus one.” Then in AlterWorld he purchased tons of land for his future Gigantic Fly-Trap plantation. He turned all his funds into in-game gold. And now he sat on the cold floor while the medical blocks of the ''Mom'' and ''Son'' capsules beeped in alarm. ''Deep coma'' was their diagnosis. And the ambulance arrival timer showed nothing but infinity symbols.

Infinity…No escape…The man slowly rose, kissed the tranquil face of his son through the dull plastic, then dragged his stiff legs to the balcony. Nineteen stories up. It would be enough…

…In an underground virtual center somewhere in China, the capsules opened one by one, letting out thousands of confused, sluggishly moving people. The sixteen-hour shift was far from over…

The center’s chief supervisor could see his hair turning gray. The merciless statistical monitor showed that 52,000 operators had lost contact with the server. Another 14,000 were in a deep coma…

…On that day, the manager of Russia’s emergency service, AI Shoygu-231, launched a defense protocol against a DDoS attack for the first time ever. The AI thought that the hundreds of thousands of calls from subscribers were just that – an attack…

Closing my eyes for a second, I shook my head. AlterWorld had no anti-depressants. How could we treat nervous breakdowns? An insane wizard is a dangerous thing, a living weapon.

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