“So this’s Real Fantasy Online, huh?” Randal said, his avatar the spitting image of himself, only decked out as an Archer. He shrugged, the weight of the bow on his back uncomfortable yet.

“Yeah. A completely fresh and unsullied world.” Lucien said, holding out his hand. Randal ignored him and surveyed the forest from the cliff they were on.

“Graphics are real good, I’ll give ‘em that. All this *bleep* fantasy crap’s pretty *bleep* though. Does that happen all the god*bleep* time?” he said, scowling.

“The profanity filter’s in place for being a game for all ages. It can get excessive, but it’d be a pain to disable, and there’d be no point.” Hansen said, adjusting his broad-brimmed hat. His chosen class was a Bard, and a rapier hung by his side. He eyed the forest for monsters. The mission was important and all, but he’d been working non-stop for the last three weeks, and the game looked fun.

“I’ll tell you what’d be *bleep* *bleep* *bleep* *bleep* *be-bleep* *bleep* *bleep* say what I *bleep*ing mean!” Randal spit on the ground in disgust.

“Well, you’re free to leave at any time.” Lucien said hopefully. He snorted.

“Yeah right cupcake. You’re too slow killing those *bleep*ing players, that’s why I’m taking over this two-bit operation personally. Sit back and watch a pro work.” He grinned and leaned back on a tree, looking behind them to the orc army encamped behind them. They’d all been buffed to level 99. Lucien frowned, and that made the soldier grin even harder. “These boys’re ugly, but they’re all right. Wish I had a coupl’a these back in reality. ‘Specially the God Mode.”

“Mmm.” Lucien grunted noncommittally.

“Alright, get off your artificial *bleep*s in gear and let’s move out! I want every green guy ready in five! Move, move, move!” Rabdal barked, the A.I. scrambling to obey and prepare. Hansen sidled up to Lucien.

“You really okay with this?” he asked quietly. Lucien breathed in deeply, his shaky hand grasping his sword’s hilt to steady it. He nodded.

“Yes. This is the path I chose. This’s the right thing to do. Everyone will understand, in the end.” He looked out across the fields below, villages and farmlands dotting the landscape. Hansen thought he looked incredibly forlorn, but he nodded resolutely. “No matter what, I’ll see this through.”

“And afterwards, waht’ll you do?” Hansen knew the price Lucien had asked when they approached him a month and a half ago. Lucien smiled beacifically.

“It’ll be hard, I know. But when it’s done, I’m just gonna live. That’s all I can do.”

Hansen reflected on that for a moment, before nodding too. This kid was only seventeen, but he’d given a lot of thought into this.

“Good luck then. It’ll be rough for you afterward.” he said.

“I know. But what about you? What’ll you guys do when the plan succeeds?” Lucien asked. The A.I. mobs were mobilizing as fast as they could, but they were still thirty thousand strong. It would be at least ten minutes to march.

“Well, can’t say for sure about the other guys. General Holt’ll probably go make his military nation in the *bleep* end of nowhere. Some of the guys’ll follow, I’m sure.” Hansen said.

“You won’t?” Lucien asked. He snorted.

“Ha! No, this’s it for me. Once this’s done, I’m out. I’m tired of playing soldier boy for a PMC.” he said, with muted venom. Lucien tilted his head.

“WHy? What’s up?” Hansen groaned and put a hand to his temple as Randal went past, barking orders at orcs.

“Hurry up, don’t got all day! Move it! You get that crate of arrows open! You, take those grenades and set ‘em by the catapult! C’mon, do it! I’ll kick your *bleep*ing *bleep*es, you *bleep*s! C’mon!” He shoved a crate of apples out of an orc’s hands. “Why do programs need to eat? Get ‘em working 24/7! God *bleep* it, we gotta move! Am I the only *bleep*ing professional around here?” he shouted, the orcs programmed to comply completely.

“...I see what you mean.” Lucien deadpanned.

“It’s only gotten worse. The other day, he threatened to blow off my leg if I didn’t, and I quote, ‘Get my *bleep* in gear and finish the download before my *bleep* goes in your *bleep*ing *bleep*, you god*bleep* mother*bleep*.’ That was after 56 hours of straight coding on the fly, by the way. Honestly, the smell in the room’s getting pretty bad, no one can leave to shower. Too risky. Thought I’d put those days behind me in college, ugh.” Hansen’s face twisted in disgust. Lucien nodded.

“I get it. Good luck.” he said.

“Yeah. Good luck to you too. Don’t know which one of us is worse off.” Hansen groused. Lucien glanced to make sure Randal wasn’t looking.

“Well, you can join up with us if you want.” he said, casually, quietly. Hansen snorted. “I’m serious. You’re better than the meatheads I’ve seen. Smarter, more efficient. You don’t deserve that life.”

“Flattery’ll get you nowhere, kid.” Hansen tried to laugh off.

“You really think he’s going to get away with this? Holt’ll be dead in a year, once the authorities get ahold of him. Aren’t you guys already fugitives, or something?” Lucien persisted.

“Officially, in seven countries. But it's a murky area when we get jobs.” Hansen said.

“That can all end. Even if you succeed and get out, what kind of life will you live after? I’ve got a dream. You can be part of it, too. Together, we could be free.”

“Right. Like I’m gonna listen to you, kid.” Hansen said, without heat. He tried to brush Lucien’s words off, but no matter how much, it was getting to him. After all, he was just vocalizing what Hansen had been mulling over for a long time.

“Alright. Just know that you got a place with me, if you want.” Lucien said, smiling and leaning back. The orcs were nearly ready. “Well, I kinda had to ask you anyway. Your help’d be a huge boon, is all.”

“Really?” Hansen asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course! You’re the main programmer for these Dawn guys. I bet you know more about this system than anyone in the world, ‘cept maybe for the guys who made it.”

“Yeah, maybe.” he said, thinking it over. “Maybe even more. See, they had different departments handling this stuff, we’ve got a team but they usually dump it on me. So, the way I figure, I have to know pretty much everything about it. Wouldn’t be possible for me to make it, but compiling and reorganizing the data’s no problem.” Hansen explained, and Lucien laughed.

“See? What’d I tell you? You probably know this game better than the guys at OceanView at this point.” he said. Hansen scratched his head under his hat and looked down, blushing slightly. He didn't get complimented very often.

“Yout think?”

“I know. And hey; I’d love to have you, but I understand that you want out. I get it. *bleep*, I do too man.” Lucien said, and Hansen glanced over at Randal, organizing the orcs.

“Well…” He thought about Holt’s plan, and the chaos that was sure to follow. He lowered his voice even more. “The pay’s good, but that won’t last forever. You saying yours is better?” Lucie nsmiled slyly.

“Well, I’m not saying it’s better, per say. It’ll still be a lot of hard work. But I truly believe that my dream’s worth it.” When he said that, his smile was complete and genuine. “Do you think the dream you’re following is?”

Hansen looked down. It had been a long time since he’d considered what he’d been doing, what he’d been going for. Chasing piles of money so he could live the good life. Heh. He recalled all the hours of data mining, reports, security hacking, espionage, and even gunfights he’d been in over the last six years, going from one wasteland to another. And if it wasn’t by the time Randal’s mercenaries got there, it was when they left.

He sighed and looked off into the distance. What even was the good life anymore? Would he recognize it after he saw it?

“So, you’re saying...just leave everything behind?” Hansen said quietly.

“Not leave. Escape. Get out, away from everything.” Lucien said. Hansen shook his head.

“I’ll...have to think about it.” he said.

“What’re you ladies doing here!? C’mon c’mon, get going! We got bogeys at one o’clock!” Randal said, stomping up. He’d grabbed a wicked-looking black whip from an orc and cracked it over their heads. “Move it nerds!”

“Haaaaaugh. Yessir.” Hansen sighed and started to march, unsheathing his flute. THeir avatars had been made at level 99, and the orcs didn’t really need support, but it couldn’t hurt.

“Pfft! You call that a *bleep*ing instrument? Should’a picked something better, like a guitar or drum.” Randal smirked.

“Yessir.” Hansen said with a blank face.

“Always open.” Lucien said, shrugging on his black coat and donning his mask.

“Huh?” Randal said.

“I’m always hoping I get a good fight. But I never do.” Lucien said loudly, and rushed ahead.

The party in the forest was buffing themselves, having seen the mass of orcs. They were around level 50, with decent equipment. They’d arranged themselves in a circle, warriors in front of casters, the Priest in the middle so they couldn’t be surprised.

“Ok, now that Resolvenforcement-” the Archer was saying. They never saw him coming. One second there was empty space. The next, the masked assailant was there, the Archer’s bowstring cut. “Wh-” was all he got out before the sword swung, and the control program was implanted as the orcs descended upon them. They didn’t stand a chance; the Bard’s drum was smashed, the Alchemist’s runic circle erased, the Tamer’s bouldermaw and goblins literally buried under big green bodies, him with it. And a black blade, faster than the eye could track, dropping hit points to zero. Control program chips were placed on their avatars as they reformed from death, held down by orcs. Randal grinned as the screams slowly ceased.

“Let ‘em up, boys.” he commanded, and the orcs released their captives. The party stood up, wide-eyed. That was the only muscle control they still had, and fading rapidly. “Welcome to the team, folks. Fall in line for re-equipping, we got plenty. You’re with us now.” Their eyes turned red and they saluted. OVERRIDE COMPLETE.

“SIr yes sir!” they said in unison, not a hint of the turmoil and panic inside. Randal had to fight down laughter.

“Right. Get moving! Forward hut!” As one, they turned and lined up in front of the orc quartermaster, handing out legendary equipment like the Artemis Bow with Bloodfire Crystal arrows, the Thunderdrum of All Creation, and a Supplication Whip, guaranteeing monsters to follow commands for 30 minutes. Hansen huffed and sheathed his rapier sullenly. Lucien cocked his head at him.

“Alright, alright, not a bad bunch-hmm?” Randal paused and stared at the Archer, who had a screen still up. “What’s that?”

“It’s a message from my guild. We are to convene in Olympolis tomorrow for this event.” Hansen, Randal, and the masked Lucien crowded around the screen to read it.

“It says everyone is requested to attend...a party?”