《Death Becomes Him: An Age of Steam and Sorcery Novel》Epilogue
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The whole team spent the ride back to town lavishing DB with pets and treats, once they’d figured out how to turn the train around to go back for him. He sat on the driver’s seat in the engine - the only seat with a cushion - while everyone else sat on the floor or leaned on something. In between pets, snoot boops and handfuls of food, Peter explained… well… everything. From his first login to that day. Every death, skill up and quest complete.
“So, what you’re saying is that you thought this was normal?” Pham shouted over the wind, his head out the side window of the cab. “That everyone who plays MMOs get weird crap happen like, I don’t know, meeting the Avatar of Life in between respawns?”
Peter shrugged, stroking DBs’ fur. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve never played one before. I figured they were like cut scenes in most single player games.”
“Yeah, no. That’s nowhere near normal.” Pham turned his body around but left his head out the window, clearly enjoying the breeze ruffling his hair. “But, that’s you in a nutshell, isn’t it?”
“Normal’s boring. I like it this way.” Peter moved the scritches up to behind DB’s ears, making the rodent’s tail twitch like dogs’. “You know you’re going for a respawn if there’s a rock sticking out of the wall, yeah? Underground train tunnels aren’t exactly smooth.”
Pham pulled his head in quickly. Which was fortunate, because at that moment they pulled into the station and the arches where the tunnel terminated left very little clearance. Warren leaned on the brake, and slowed the engine to a halt. In the interest of simplicity, they had only driven the engine and coal car, leaving the rest to burn back at the twisted imp’s lair. The party took the elevator to the surface and Peter led the way into the temple, holding out the key so they could see what he was doing. He approached the door he usually used and opened it, revealing the broom cupboard within.
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“Spacious,” Pham quipped.
Peter just flipped him the forks and closed the door.. He made a show of inserting the key and turned it, then opened the door again. This time the view of the entranceway silenced any snarky comments as Peter led the way into the house.
“This sort of looks like my father’s old place,” Dani said wistfully, wandering past Peter into the kitchen area.
“Ye got anythin’ to drink in here?” Warren threw himself onto the sofa. “Tha’ was a fight tha’ needs celebratin’.”
The crash when he landed made Peter wince. “Would you mind unequipping your plate mail before you ruin the furniture?”
Warren blew a raspberry and kicked his legs up onto the arm of the sofa. “I’ll take that as a no then shall I? Well, how about the loot? Maybe there’s something good in there.”
Peter popped DB on the writing desk and whipped the small chest out of his inventory, setting it in the middle of the open space in front of the fireplace. “Everybody ready?”
Pham leaned over the back of the couch, weight on both arms. “Yuppers”
“Go for it,” Dani said, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table.
“Ok,” Peter reached over the top of the chest and threw it open theatrically.
And fell out of bed.
“Come on Peter!” His mother stood over him with a bulging backpack. An arm of one of Peter’s shirts protruded from where the zippers met. “Wake up, we have to go now!” She was whispering as loud as she could, like a stage whisper if the stage was actually a football oval.
“What? What’s going on?” The lurch had left him disoriented and confused. “Where’s…”
“No time for that!” His mother thrust a handful of clothes at him. “I just found out what your father’s been up to. We’re leaving. NOW.” The last word was so loud she looked around to see if it had disturbed anyone. A useless gesture as they were the only ones in the house, it seemed.
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His mother refused to answer any questions until Peter had dressed, grabbed whatever he could and jammed them in the top of the already overful backpack and hustled out of the apartment. Even in the elevator, when asked where they were going, she only replied with “to the car, now be quiet”.
Once they were in the car and away, Peter’s mother put the car in self-drive and gave it an address that sounded familiar to him, but not one he knew immediately. “Mum, where’s that? What’s going on?”
His mother sighed and released the deathgrip on the steering wheel. “Your father has been cheating on me. Oh god it sounds terrible to even say out loud, but it’s true.” She stared out through the windscreen, a tear trickling down her cheek. “I had my suspicions, but I could never prove who the other woman was. It always seemed like he was telling the truth about being at work, or having business meetings.”
“I’m sorry Mum, that’s terrible,” Peter reached out to console her. There was no way he could tell her about what had happened in the game. For a start, she’d never believe him. Or, worse, she would. “What are we going to do about it?”
“We? Nothing. I’m taking you to your grandmother’s place and tomorrow I go lawyer shopping.” She sighed again and put her face in her hands. “I guess you’re going to have to find a new school next year. Good thing holidays start tomorrow.”
Yeah, good thing, Peter thought to himself as message notifications started flashing up in his vision. That’ll be the guys. What the heck am I going to tell them?
***
In a downtown loft apartment, a well dressed man sat in a very expensive leather recliner. Every so often his body would twitch spasmodically as he drooled onto his own shoulder.
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