10

The Way Forward

With the excitement of the battle fading, as Rian walked through the town he brought up his menu and looked for the log out button again, hoping that it had magically reappeared. He sighed, still finding it empty and unresponsive.

He wondered what Kat or Maia would’ve thought if he’d told them he was stuck inside the game. He’d had plenty of opportunities, in retrospect. And, well, there was nothing stopping him from messaging them, but it felt like his chance had passed. Explaining it face-to-face would be easier. More believable, maybe.

He wished so badly to tell someone that he was stuck—in hope of finding someone who shared his situation and learning what they’d done about it. But that was assuming he wasn’t the only one like this, like Corvis had told him. Even so, the danger of revealing himself was too great, and he knew it was a terrible conundrum he faced: if someone else was stuck in the game like he was, he would never know for the same reason for which he would never tell anyone else. It was simply too dangerous to expose himself.

When he tried to rationalize it—that the game wasn’t guaranteed to get shut down if it became known that he was stuck—he found himself eager to tell someone like Kat. But that was just an excuse to relieve his burden without thinking it through. The risk was too great for now.

This lingering sense of dread he felt, listening to other people talk cheerfully in the game, was becoming unbearable. In every conversation so far, he’d had the distinct sense of wearing a mask, to hide what he was really feeling. Corvis was the only person he could confide in. And as cold and uncaring as he seemed, he was still the only person in Mirage that Rian felt a true connection with, if only because he could speak freely with him.

He floated along behind Rian’s shoulder, looking apathetic, shielding his eyes against the sun.

“Corvis,” Rian whispered as they passed other players, “wouldn’t the GMs know if someone can’t log out? Like even without filing a ticket about it?” There had to be built-in precautions in Mirage. Being stuck like he was meant that he’d eventually trip one of those safety measures whether he wanted to or not.

“They have their methods,” Corvis said. “For some reason, you off-worlders are unable to stay within this realm for more than four consecutive hours at a time. At which point, you will be forcibly put to half-synchronization.”

“Yes, I know that already.” Rian shook his head in frustration. That was really it? The half-sync timer was the only fail-safe to keep people from getting stuck?

“However,” Corvis said, “though your situation is unusual, I believe the rules still apply. You should make it a point to go to half-sync, even though you won’t really be able to. You’ll get to visit your corpse every so often. How exciting.”

Rian didn’t want to think that it was true: that his body was going to sit in his mom’s living room, gradually decomposing until someone found it. But on the flip-side…

“So if I’m really dead,” Rian said, “does that mean I’m technically immortal while I’m here?”

“Of course,” Corvis said, and Rian wondered: what the hell did that make him, right now? A disembodied soul in a video game? A copy of himself? He remembered hearing something about a “cognitive mirror.”

Corvis continued, “You are as immortal and timeless as any of us who were alive during the Undoing.”

“The what now?”

“When the four gods of Miracia were presumably killed”—Corvis gestured to the surrounding buildings of the harbor—“it changed things here. People stopped aging. They started coming back to life after death. The concept of power itself became quantified.” His gaze met Rian’s. “And then you off-worlders started showing up, and now you share the same traits as those survivors of the Undoing.”

Entry added to lore book: “The Undoing” (Lore completion: 5%)

Progress to next lore achievement: 25%

You have gained experience! (+1)

Sweeping aside the notification text, Rian muttered to himself, “This doesn’t sound like a game at all.”

“If you’re interested in learning about what happened, I suggest you join a lore-hunter’s group. In fact…” Corvis held out a hand. In a puff of smoke, a device shaped like an old handheld radio transceiver appeared in his palm. “You may even go it alone, if you prefer.”

Rian focused on the item as Corvis handed it to him.

Soulbound Y-Locator

Grade: S+ (Unique)

Soulbound (on pickup, this item is bound to the player and cannot be dropped, traded, duplicated, or sold; possession of this item transfers to the player that kills the player who holds it.)

“A device created by Dr. Yang Li to locate memories of Yindra. To activate, requires one (1) unique Godly Fragment, which is consumed upon activation.”

There was a slot at the bottom of the device, a screen located above it, and an antenna sticking out the top. It was at least a step forward but, reading the item description, he had no idea what a “Godly Fragment” was.

“Where the hell did you get this?” Rian said.

“It was a gift from Yindra, you might say. I suggest you put it away before anyone else sees it.”

Rian stuffed it into his pocket, and it disappeared into his inventory. “So how’d you get a gift from someone’s who’s dead?”

Corvis intertwined his fingers. “I was taking a most exquisite nap when Yindra visited me in a dream, much as she did for you. She briefed me on my mission—your mission. Then I woke up, not too long before you entered the game, and the locator was sitting there beside me.”

“She couldn’t just, y’know, tell you where she is? If her goal is to get me to find her, why can’t she just be upfront about it?”

Corvis held up his hands, but he was still giving that smug-ass smirk. “I’m as confounded by her decisions as you are, Rian. I hesitate to say that she works in mysterious ways, but there is certainly a mystery to her absence and her actions. But in her briefing, she assured me that your journey to find her is paramount to her will.”

Rian brought up his inventory and reread the item’s description. “Okay, so I just need to find a Godly Fragment, whatever that is.”

“A unique one, if you will. It is, of course, a challenging prospect—one that needn’t concern you for now. But I suggest you handle the device with care. Yindra has only supplied me with one.”

Rian hesitated. Despite the item being bound to him, he could still die and lose it. “Can you…take it back, then? You’re a non-combat NPC, right? Wouldn’t it be a better idea for you to hold onto it than me?”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that. It’s already bound to you.”

“What? So the soulbound thing didn’t apply to you?”

“Correct. Only to players.”

Oh, great. Another reason for someone to gank him. There was already one guild that apparently had it out for him, just by association. He could see this going south quickly.

“So,” Rian said, “the locator only transfers if I die to another player?”

“Yes. You needn’t worry about NPCs or creatures stealing it from you.”

But if this thing could be transferred on death, it meant that it wasn’t entirely locked to his character. It could still be traded, just not through the intended route. He stared at the item’s icon in his inventory, wondering just how valuable it really was. Not that he’d sell it, of course, but maybe there was another way of going about it, like giving it to someone who had the required item to activate it, and then just following them to Yindra. Probably easier than trying to constantly avoid dying.

That was assuming it would be as simple as walking to wherever the locator pointed. He really doubted a goddess would be chilling out in an area that a level one Beginner could mosey on through. Losing the locator wasn’t as much of a concern as the fact that he needed to be ready—if he or anyone else activated the item.

“I suppose I should tell you, as well,” Corvis said, “if you were to use the device, it will only lead you to a memory of Yindra. One which is fragmented across time.”

“Wait, what? The hell does that mean?”

“You may converse with her in such a diluted form, but it may be that her powers are unable to affect the present world. Many adventurers and off-worlders have sought such encounters so as to reshape certain aspects of Miracia to their will.”

Did that mean…the gods could grant wishes for players if they found them? That sounded pretty cool and all, but he just needed some info on Azure. Asking for overpowered gear wasn’t exactly a priority right now.

“As for the memories themselves,” Corvis said, “I believe you’ll find they are but clues as to Yindra’s fate. Her true location. Nor is the device the only way to find them.” He gestured to the plains and the forests beyond them. “Such memories are hidden throughout the continent. They could be contained in anything—from landmarks, to a simple and unassuming artifact. You’ll likely have to explore the outer reaches of the continent, which will certainly require more out of you than what you arrived here with.”

“All right,” Rian said. “It’s a plan, then. I’ll just have to get to level cap, first.” He attempted to crack his knuckles, then was surprised to hear a popping sound effect.