A scene like the Serengeti. Wind blows strong through tall grasses, sometimes granting peaks at the dirt below, a mess of lime-green and yellow and clay-red. The beautiful monotony is broken by scattered plains-trees poking out like overgrown mushrooms. Further away, distant walls of stone, plateaus grant an abrupt stop to an otherwise endless horizon. From where I stand, it would be to treat it like a painting, dead but pretty, yet the ecosystem is very much alive. The game spares no expense, simulating every aspect of a natural world, much to the confusion of good chunk of the player-base. Not me- however insane the Developers might be, it’s comforting to know that at least one of them understands the importance of the untouched wild.

It’s remarkably quiet for something in motion. Devoid of the songbirds you’d expect to see frequenting a deciduous forest, there is no song, and the infinite array of animals within are habitually quiet, afraid of attracting predators. When I look closely, though, I spot streaks of grey and brown, creatures moving silently through the grass. Particularly strong gusts reveal familiar shapes- fat quadrupeds with swishing tails, and the compact carnivores stalking them, tall runner-birds looking about, ready to bolt at any sign of trouble… Together, the animals are the cogs of a breathing machine, a living ecosystem, completely apart from the illusions of grandeur you expect from humans and monsters alike.

I stop gazing off at the wild, turning my attention somewhere much closer. A girl peaks nervously out of a nearby bush, none too happy to see me. She’s young, somewhere near my age, and since no NPC would be this afraid of a little bird-monster, I’m pretty sure she’s a real player. She’s got a travel bag on her back, slung over a remarkably fashionable blue tunic. It should hang off her like a burlap sack, oversized and unfitted, but she strapped a wide belt over it, and complimented with tall boots and well-made trousers, she somehow manages to make it look more like some sort of trendy retro-chic combo than the genuinely medieval outfit it is. When she notices my gaze, she dodges away into the bush, just out of sight. Done with that, I look down.

It's certainly a ‘magical circle’. Instead of the occult geometry I’ve come to expect from certain people, it’s a simple affair. A single symbol is inscribed, one I recognize, the alchemical symbol for Sulfur. It’s pretty much just a triangle drawn atop a plus symbol, with the triangle drawn around where I was summoned, as if to cage me. In other words, it’s complete amateur work. More curiously, it wasn’t drawn using sulfur. It wasn’t even drawn in blood for that matter, the burgundy red substituted for some strange blue compound. Curious, I reach out a hand, bracing myself for a reaction.

I can feel the barrier, definitely, but there’s no violent rejection. It could cage me for a good while, but I suspect that given enough time, I could probably break myself free. Pop the shield, murder my summoner, go off to run free in the wilderness, a simple plan. I might even find some other players to mess with, interrogate them on how to get to level two, who knows? It’d be the right thing to do, in-character, but there’s a big problem. Something you can’t account for on paper, even.

I don’t want to kill anyone. Sure, I cried all my morals out after stabbing that one NPC, and players don’t even perma-die, and their bodies burst into smoke… Alright, fine, I don’t want to kill my summoner in particular. She’s cute! Super cute! If I kill such a pleasant creature, my heart might burst for real. It’s entirely possible, or even probable that she’s a Mute, it’s the principle of the thing that matters. It’d be like shooting a puppy. Her face is babyish and button-nosed, and it’s complimented with tomboyish hair, pure-black bangs hanging over one of her hazel-green eyes. I can’t imagine her as anything other than the ‘punk girl’ type, but even the way that her appearance contrasts with that personality sounds cute.

I wonder if she expected to get a successful summon at all? When I was picking who summoned me, I went for the weakest tug I could find, for obvious reasons- the best way to avoid getting roped into another nightmare-inducing horror-fest is to avoid the top players, including and especially the Dark Gamers. I stare hard at the bush and pull up the menu, letting my hand fall to my side. When I flip to voice, she pops right up as a target. I wonder how stealth works for PvP? Maybe it’s because I knew where she was already? Setting aside those thoughts, I speak.

“Why have you summoned me?”

The girl throws herself out of the bush, back-first. She lands a few feet away, the spongy dirt granting a little thud. Without delay, she throws a hand out in front of her. Her fingers curve in, like pretending to claw something or gripping a doorknob tightly, and she wraps her other hand around her wrist.

A spark appears, floating near her palm, and a jet of flame shoots violently away, slamming into the bush. Even as green as it is, the fire takes, smoke rolling off into the sky. The flame smolders but doesn’t spread, the rest of the bush still wet enough to avert a wildfire.

There’s a long moment, then, almost entirely still. She lays still, panting, probably waiting for the reveal of whatever monster had such a horrid voice. When nothing comes, she slowly turns to look over at me, rolling from her back to her side. Her eyes scan me, searching, and I do my best impression of a gargoyle, curling my claws as I stare down my beak at her, haughty. I’m a real summoned monster! First impressions are important.

“W-Was that you?” Her voice is odd, just a little bit too high-pitched for her frame and more sing-song-y than I’d expect from her aesthetic, but it’s decidedly feminine, ruling out a Mute. The game picks up your real voice, and short of using a ‘voice-changer’ like mine, guys playing as girls have problems maintaining their disguise.

I incline my head gently, flexing my feathers in place of a formal bow. To my surprise, they kindly obey, and I think I like the effect, a brief ruffling across my body. I might be getting the hang of the whole Shrike thing after all.

There’s another pause as the girl pulls herself together, piece by piece, until she’s finally on her feet once more. She seems to take the idea of a talking summon remarkably well, which is either a good sign for my disguise’s longevity or a tip-off that she’s gullible enough to buy it. I know demons are supposed to talk, but I can’t imagine being confronted with a telepathic bird-goblin.

Looking at her standing for the first time, I get a better feeling for her. She’s doesn’t seem to be much older than me, and only a little taller than I am in real life, though certain curves imply she might be a bit more mature than she looks. Recovered and ready, she throws out her hand, and a contract floats into the air. It unfurls in front of me, pulling up the appropriate box.

Participants

Alexis Firebrand v the Shrike

Terms

- Task “Kill Ten Tuskats” must be completed within a day.

- The Contractor must not seek to injure the Contractee.

Grade

Gramma

Penalty

Instant termination of benefits and removal from mortal realm.

Accept

Decline

More Greek. The number of terms dropped, and I can see a pretty immediate issue with these particular terms, but I don’t see anything negative on my end, so I might as well go for it. The girl- no, Alexis, seems nervous, watching intently to see if I accept it, and when I do, she sighs in relief. That’s a mistake, you know? I wonder if this might be why they threw Contract Law into the Data Training Program, to equip people for these sorts of oversights.

The scroll bursts into flame. With it, the binding triangle’s hold falls away, and I step right out. I guess Alexis was struggling with an elimination quest. Thinking it through, I haven’t seen any other people or buildings around, though that may just be a consequence of my relatively short stature.

“Where are we? Relative to Bracken,” I ask.

She flinches hard. It takes a moment for the surprise to wear away to confusion, still not used to my voice. “Bracken?” She asks.

I start to answer her question, but she throws both hands out ahead over her, recoiling. “Stop, I got it, don’t talk,” she says, “nod if you get what I’m saying.”

I do, and she relaxes a bit. “Alright. I’ve only heard of Bracken from the forums, but I think we’re, say, 200 miles away? Is that what you wanted to know?”

I’m not sure what I wanted, exactly. 200 ‘miles’ is a pretty good frame of reference, but it doesn’t give me a heading, and it doesn’t tell me much about the geography. In the end, I don’t think quizzing her would do any good. She may not know either of those things, and if she’s uncomfortable with my voice, I’m just liable to put her on guard.

“Alright. Let’s… try to work with nodding, at least for now.” She says, shivering, “I’m not sure how a little body like that throws out such a fucked-up voice. Do all Summoners have to deal with this shit?”

I shake my head. “That was a rhetorical question.” Alexis says, smiling. “You’ve got a sense of humor, huh?”

I nod, and she freezes. “Just my luck, try a summoning ritual and I get a sentient.” She squints at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be more dangerous? You don’t look particularly strong.”

That’s where she’s wrong. I could demonstrate by skewering her, given the right abuse of contract, but that’d probably kill her, assuming she didn’t get me first. So, instead, I decide on a much more sensible demonstration.

Flexing my human muscles, I force my Shrikely forearms to bend, swinging them about. Alexis watches, mesmerized, but by the time I get them flexing and twirling like noodle helicopter blades, she’s nauseous.

“Stopstopstop,” she says, clutching at her mouth, “You’re dangerous! I get it!”

Triumph! You never know when things will come in handy. I let my arms spin down and drop them to my side. Either mollified or afraid what more questioning might bring, she simply beckons. “Let’s just get this over with. I’ve already killed three Tuskats, so you can count those to your total, or whatever.”

Alexis turns, strutting away hurriedly. I try not to stare as I follow along behind her. As for the Tuskats, I’ve never heard of them. With my luck, they’re probably enormous and absolutely covered in eyes, but I choose to be optimistic.

I can’t say traveling the plains is very interesting. Without roads or clearings, the grass surrounds us, and as soon as we get off the gentle hill I was summoned on, we’re practically head-deep in the stuff. Sometimes my Shrikely ears pick up the sound of distant scurrying, but we don’t get to see any, and after about ten minutes on high alert, I get bored. I decide to check my status. Just to see.

Name

Shrike

HP 5/5

MP 1/1

LV 001

Summoner

Alexis Firebrand

Class

SUMMONED MONSTER

Appearance

YOUNG SHRIKE MALE

Race

SHRIKE (δ-)

Learned Skills

“Apex Claws”, “Maneuver(I)”

Nope, I haven’t leveled yet. I’m not sure how I do a ‘Race Up’, or how I age up my appearance, but I guess it’s still a bit too early to be worrying about things like that. I got a mana back, so at least there’s that. I was getting a bit worried the budget-grade contract would decide to short me the point. All in all, though, nothing too interesting. Curious, I hit one of the extra button on my menu, a little dictionary icon; a text box marked 'Define' appears, and I try entering "Tuskats".

Tuskat are a small feline race. Carnivorous, Quadruped. Augmented access to Feline, Lance.

Common Knowledge: Tuskat make poor pets. Tuskat are remarkably top-heavy as kittens. Tuskat pelts polish up nicely.

Define seems to be easier to use than 'Help', though I do wonder why there's two definition functions at all. So, predatory cats with long tusks and shiny pelts? Sounds about right, given the setting. The fact that quadrupeds get ‘Lance’ access is a bit hilarious when I think about it. If I could look up the Tuskats, then, maybe I can get some information on myself?

Shrike are a small harpy race. Carnivorous, Bipedal. Augmented access to Avian, Needle, Mobile.

Common Knowledge: Shrikes are an immediate threat and should be dealt with as such. Do not feed a Shrike, it may follow you home. Shrike claws become incredibly sharp when treated properly.

Avian, Needle, Mobile? A fast bird with needle-like claws? Seems accurate enough. At the same time, I’m not sure if I appreciate the hostility. Why are all three sentences describing common knowledge about the Shrike essentially a call for slaughter? Still, at least I know not to get too cozy with NPCs now. Well, what if I looked up something else? Something a bit less pedestrian?

ERROR: He Who Cries Unseen has no data.

No dice. I'm surprised they don't have any info on their first boss, but I guess the Developers want it all under lock and key until the main event happens. The playerbase is in for a shock, that's for sure. What if I-

“You bailed me out,” Alexis says, “When I fought a few of these things on my own, it didn’t end too pretty. I've got the power, but...”

Hurriedly, I close out the screen. We’re in the middle of a clearing, a muddy stretch devoid of creatures and plants alike. Rocks jut up out of the ground, and I see scattered flecks of white, probable remnants of past hunts. Further away, the wild grasses return, but even taller, some even past Alexis’ height. Summing it up, we’ve wandered into a predator’s home, one with a natural enclosure and no easy line of sight outwards. Considering the nature of big cats, it might even be a whole den of them. Curious that we haven’t run into one already.

On the up-side, we’ll probably get the quest done really quickly. On the downside, we’re in the middle of Tuskat central, with no plan, no practice, and no idea when or where they’ll come from. I’m not sure if Alexis is stupid or just that damn confident. I’m tempted to get angry, but when I look up at her, I can’t muster it. “Well, now we wait. It shouldn’t be lo- “

A rustle in the grass; claws digging at dirt. I hear the creature coming before I see it. I launch myself at Alexis, catching her by the knees.

Even with my diminutive size, the sudden tackle catches her off-guard, and she hits the ground, her feet swept out from below. A decent chunk of her weight falls on my back, and I quickly pull myself out, barely turning in time to watch a big cat fly overhead.

Two menacing tusks protrude from its jowl like fangs, and it skewers the air Alexis occupied not moments before. I look over to her, watching the anger change to surprise. She reacts in force, twisting toroidally, back on her hands and knees in the briefest instant.

The Tuskat lands with admirable grace, claws sinking lightly into the dirt. The creature throws itself away into the brush, vanishing; I can hear it go, but as it slinks away deeper and deeper in the wilderness, I lose track of it entirely.

Alexis is standing. I join her. My body aches a little already, probably because tiny, hollow-boned bird-goblins aren’t supposed to launch themselves at a human head-first. I ignore the dull sensation, pulling myself taut and preparing myself to respond to their next attack.

“Close one,” she says. I feel her behind me, her back pressing up to mine. Given our height difference, it’s not really back-to-back, and I ignore the sensation studiously, but the notion is the same. We’ve got to work together to get this done, and she trusts me to do my part.

I hear another sound. 6 O’clock, another Tuskat ready to fling itself our way. It’s fast, already in the air- I pull away from Alexis in a panic, ready to shove her out of the way.

I watch a bout of flame lash out from her outstretched hand. It slams into the flying feline, the force of the impact still not enough to stop it entirely as it tumbles through the air towards us.

The cat’s tusks gouge two long lines through the mud as it skids along, limp form sliding our way. As if for good measure, Alexis shoots another javelin of fire at it. I admire her handiwork, impressed. The smoldering remains don’t look particularly edible, and I can’t say we’re going to have much luck with gathering up the pelts.

I whirl around. Another Tuskat dashes into the clearing, this time from the side, dashing towards Alexis while she’s preoccupied.

I dash to her side, aiming to intercept. The cat clears the gap with alarming speed, certain to skewer her in moments. Hands twisted into their needle-like form, I jab at the creature as it passes.

Both hands break flesh, scoring the beast. My left-hand catches muscle, and I feel the pressure as it sinks deep into the cat’s shoulder. Simultaneously, the right catches rib, sliding away harmlessly.

The Tuskat staggers mid-sprint. One leg is caught and held still by my obtrusive claws, but with the grace that only a natural carnivore can muster, it compensates nearly instantly, loping on three. My body is too light to slow it down, dragged along as it dragging from it tries to finish its nearly completed mad dash. I stab at its stomach again, but my claw bounces harmlessly. What do I do? What could I do?

I invoke Maneuver, forcing mana into my arm. My teeny Shrike muscles bulge with stress as I tug hard. My body lifts off the ground, floating. The extra weight pulls at the cat’s balance, forcing weight onto its skewered leg, but I don’t let myself stop with just that. I muster all the strength I can in the arm, curling my body into the air- until I cross the threshold, my weight slamming down onto the big cat’s back.

I clamp my legs hard, straddling as though I’m riding it. Situated, I slam my right needle into its other shoulder, catching the bulging muscle as deeply as I can. The Tuskat screams in agony as it tries to run along, a high-pitch yowl.

Alexis swings around quickly, arm-cannon outstretched- only to find a toppled cat not but a foot away, and the Shrike strapped along its back. Her eyes go wide. “Holy shit,” she says, watching as the its hind legs scramble aimlessly through the air, unable to pull itself up without its fore pair. “What did you do to the poor thing?”

I blink up at her. She burnt a creature alive, and I’m the bad guy for a little bit of shish kebab action? Give me a break. Alright, fine, one of these two things are a lot more up-close and personal than the other, but it’s the same thing, in principle. I don’t think there are animal cruelty laws in Great Crusade Online anyway, especially not for monsters trying to kill you.

I yank my right hand free, sending it straight through the creature’s neck. In a moment, it stops flailing, and I find my way to my feet, relaxing my hands. The red of blood and the white of each of the claws spiral together, like a map of where they pull together to form needles.

Alexis mumbles “Dangerous indeed,” and turns around, staring pointedly out at yonder grass. I hurry over Alexis and line up back-to-back, listening intently for the next Tuskat. I wouldn’t be surprised if something nastier came at us, the wild has a lot of things that might go after a fresh corpse in a world of risky meals. Ideally, we’d move somewhere else, but at this point, it’s probably too risky- some warning is better than no warning.

Sure enough, I can hear a rustling in the grass. It’s off to the left, and as I turn to face it, Alexis feels me move and follows suit. She lines up her arm-cannon, and we weight, tense.

Another cat dashes towards up, popping out of the grass. Twisted tusks and gnarled, skin pock-marked with particularly nasty scars, this Tuskat has seen many battles past. I decide to face it head-on, bracing for the unlikely eventuality that it survives a certain Firebrand’s magic.

Then, I hear rustling, this time from behind me. I start to turn, only to hear another- now, to the far side. An ambush.

I tug at Alexis’ leg, hurriedly bringing up my voice- “Run!” The surprise throws off her aim, and she misses, but it’s a small loss if we can get out of the center. She follows along, distractedly, lining up another shot as she moves.

The Tuskats coalesce behind us, a de-facto pack of three at our heels, the gnarled Tuskat taking a brief lead. They’re faster than we can hope to be, or at least my summoner could hope to be; they’re gaining ground fast.

Alexis abandons her shot entirely, turning to run away more intently. We’re running out of clearing, now. One hand over her shoulder, she slaps her pack open and rifles through it. Out comes a scrap of paper, no bigger than an index card, and she casts it away, letting it land just ahead of the oncoming cats.

“Fire’s Bulwark!” A thin line of mud bursts into flame, two meters long and gently curved. It doesn’t look particularly intimidating, a little smoldering thing that you could step right over.

The gnarled Tuskat stops itself in a hurry, claw biting ground, growling at the others- but they respond too little, too late. My supposition is immediately, violently, proved incorrect.

The Bulwark is, in fact, a wall. Invisible threads of flame catch the cats, a net of fresh burns crisscrossing their faces and forelimbs. Slowly, almost gently, they’re pushed back, momentum denied, dumping them to the ground. Alexis slams one of the two downed cats with a fire lance immediately, putting it out of its misery- the other is up in an instant. The two survivors split up, wounded specimen swinging wide to the left, towards Alexis, the other running to the right, towards me.

Powerful muscles, taut, hindlegs forward, forelegs to hind, launching itself around the shield, finding its way to me, one leap after another. Finishing its turn, it sprints dead for me, and I, in turn, run towards it. Quickly, feverishly, I pull up my-

Name

Shrike

HP 4/5

MP 1/1

LV 001

Summoner

Alexis Firebrand

Class

SUMMONED MONSTER

Appearance

YOUNG SHRIKE MALE

Race

SHRIKE (δ-)

Learned Skills

“Apex Claws”, “Maneuver(I)”

I wave it away. I have the info, now I’ve just got to execute.

The pressure is on. The gnarled Tuskat is damned fast, my window to react closing, hardly a meter between us. I stiff-leg it, letting my foot skim across the dirt, and bounce. Two heels shoved down hard, a quick leap.

It’s not a very high jump, but it doesn’t need to be. Sure, my torso lines up pretty cleanly with the cat’s tusks, but it gives me a pristine opportunity.

My body tips forward as I fly forward, the jump turning headlong. Claws twisted tight, I aim straight for the its eyes. In turn, the Tuskat barrels forward. The dash is far too fast to stop entirely, but creature’s battle-senses are honed enough that it reacts, almost autonomously.

Twisting its head, the cat snaps fangs down hard on the wrist of my left hand. Searing, debilitating pain shoots to my brain instantly, utterly demolishing my resolve. This sort of pain would kill any plan, end any effort- I can’t hope to control myself finely enough to follow through.

That’s why I’m not the one at the reigns.

Maneuver drives my right-hand needle straight through the cat’s eye. Catching it from the side, the needle drives home, slamming hard into the Tuskat’s lacrimal complex- it doesn’t stop, sharp point and the weight of the blow forcing it through. In the briefest instant, the needle pops out the other side, taking the other eye with it.

My body completes its flight, landing hard, dangling from my hand and propelled off to the side. The cat proves to be the heavier of us two, and when it stumbles, we spin across the mud, both limp.

The blinded Tuskat bucks and kicks, biting desperately at the air, probably hoping to catch my right arm more thoroughly. I can hardly manage to focus through the agony, grinding my entrapped hand around the socket, providing an avenue for crimson outflow.

The blood loss catches fast, or the shock, and the cat loses grip and topples once more writhing on the ground, as if to grind off a tick. My shoulder dislocates, squished down at an odd angle, and for some reason that hurts more than losing the hand. Finally, some while later, the creature stops moving entirely; the Tuskat stills.

Time is thin, I’m not sure if it took moments or minutes, but it’s out of commission. Somewhere between the blood loss and the trauma, it’s dead or dying, with myself dying atop it, wracked with pain.

Blistering doesn’t begin to describe it. Incineration, impalement? Quick deaths, easy deaths. You’re dead, the sensations cut off, you can just log out. I’m stuck here with one hand in a feline, one hand discarded on the ground, and I can’t really do anything about it. I cringe through it all, eyes shut tight. Quiet, twitching.

“Son of a bitch… you’re, still,” says someone or another, far off in the distance. I can’t particularly make out what they’re saying, nor do I care. I can feel my body, jostled around, even if I can’t tell how or why it’s moving.

The pain vanishes. Not entirely- I’m still acutely aware of the missing hand, for instance- but it’s more like a bruise or a burn than nuclear liquification. I open my eyes, wary, cautious.

I’m face-down in the mud, but alive enough. I pull my left arm under me, shoving myself up, using my elbow like a crutch- my right shoulder catches, probably still caught in the Tuskat’s body, but I manage to twist until I’m on my knees.

Alexis is bent over me, studying my wounds. Her face is torn between utter disgust and worry- for a monster, no less. I’d be worried for her sanity, but considering I’m on the receiving end, it’s probably best not to question it.

“Those potions are expensive, you know?” She says, as if a Shrike really should know. “There’s only one decent Alchemist on the whole continent! Well, who will circulate them to people like me, anyway.”

I look at my missing hand- it’s still gone, but practically cauterized, wound no longer fresh or leaking. Smaller aches and breaks have vanished entirely, and the pain’s departure probably had something to do with escaping the critically low HP state.

I blink up at her. She used a potion on a summon? Not the best choice, even if she needs extra hands on deck. Considering her still emboweled bowels, it looks like she finished off her cat, so that leaves two. Shouldn’t she be able to clear the rest alone? I’m a reluctant to tip my hand, but I’m a bit indebted- this is the first time I haven’t been summoned and left to die horribly.

“I know your Alchemist.” I say.

“What?” She says, confused- just confused, she might actually be getting used to my voice. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

Oh well. No point in pushing it, I decide to change the subject. “How’s your mana?”

“I’m about out, especially after popping that scroll. I’ll need a couple of minutes to regen.” She says, worried.

Speaking of which, how is she casting so much at a time? I don’t think she’s that high level. The Flame Bulwark in particular stood out. “What was with the scroll?”

She stands up, looking around. A chunk of tall grass burned away, caught in the crossfire- we’re lucky it’s wet season, otherwise we’d be smothered in flame by now. I wonder if this particular savannah even has ‘dry seasons’. “You can diagram spells to cast them quick. Cost goes up, cast time goes way down.”

I file that away for later use. Free information is nice! Thanks, casual playerbase. “We should probably get moving away. This place isn’t worth the risk.”

She turns back to me, grinning. “Your arm is in a cat.”

Alexis is incredibly observant, to catch something even my Shrike-enhanced senses missed. I pull away from the corpse silently, trying to dislodge myself.

I’m stuck pretty deep. Wiggling and twisting seems to make a little progress, centimeter by centimeter. I can’t say I like the look of my feathers matted in this much blood. They’re entirely too slick, almost like it’s supposed to be there.

I bear down on the body, staring pointedly out and away as I work. Far, far off in the distance, I spot a lone bird, abnormally hefty and floating in a brief arc, a likely equivalent of the Kori.

Heavy stomps strike ground at a tempered pace, far too relaxed to remind me of the Tuskat we’ve been fighting. Whatever’s coming, it’s not going to be pretty. I pull harder, fighting to get myself free before it arrives, but I’m out of time. Alexis notices my frantic pace and gaze, turning to look, too-

Huge tusks cleave away the brush. They jut out so far that they seem to float in the air, hovering, but eventually a snout follows. Teeth, too jagged and wide for their mouth, whiskers big enough to see. The cat’s face appears, a crescent scar cut deep down the one side, just shy of its eyes, eager, confident eyes. This may be a Tuskat, but if it is, it’s by name only.

For starters, it’s at least twice the size of the ones we’ve faced so far. Where the rest have resembled smaller wildcats, servals or cheetahs, this cat is clearly molded after the mighty Lion- complete with majestic mane and haughty disposition. He looks down at us from on high, already waiting for our surrender, as if we’ll present ourselves on a platter.

“An Alpha,” Alexis says, pained, “No one said jack shit about an Alpha,”

Another shape follows. This cat is small, tiny in comparison; if the Alpha is a lion, this is a panther, a sleek murder-machine. She follows the Alpha in without production, silently following in tow. Emphasis on silently- her steps silent, her frame tight, drawn like a cloak, ready to disappear. Her tusks are long, sharp, and narrow, less cumbersome and far more visibly deadly.

“or, for that matter, a Beta. I better get comped for this.” Assuming she survives, that is. Again, I’m forced to wonder if she’s stupid or just that confident; even with the two of us, I feel like we’re outnumbered.

I’m not sure how Tuskat culture works, but on the list of ‘bad first impressions’, ‘caught with hand-needle jabbed through dead child’s eyes’ has to be somewhere near the top. Quietly, cautiously, I twist my hand, still in the process of wheedling it free.

The movement attracts attention, and it’s as if they notice the corpse for the first time. The Alpha stares straight at me, and I watch him put his haughty little cat-grin away, replacing it with snarl. Thoroughly vicious, it marks me as both an enemy and a threat. In other words, I’m fucked. He takes a huge, heavy step my way.

In the time the Alpha takes to make that step, the Beta is already half way to Alexis’ throat. She rifles through her travel-bag hurriedly, dragging out an improbably long dagger.

The two clash. The Beta slams into Alexis at speed, one tusk striking at her jugular, the other ajar, probably skewering her shoulder. As much time to prepare as she had, it’s still hardly enough, and when Alexis smacks the cat’s head away with the blunt side, the tusks skid by, grazing cloth and flesh.

My hand slides free. I don’t have time to worry about her; I look over to the Alpha. Even as slow as the Alpha is moving, if I leave him be, he’ll probably meander over to Alexis and seal the deal. Together, they would be unstoppable enemies. Individually, they’re just unfair.

I right myself, suddenly woozy; the blood loss must have got me a bit worse that I thought. I walk toward the Alpha, then when my legs are cooperating nicely, I run at it. The cat’s arrogance comes back in full force, and it watches me. Even if I hit it dead on, I might not leave a scratch. How can I kill something like this? Why would I even try?

I change plans. Swerving, I start to trail around the Alpha, as if running laps, uncomfortably small gap between us, two meters at the most. Now I have the creature’s full attention, and it halts, watching carefully for a chance to strike. its whole body slowly swinging to watch me, careful and anticipatory eyes patiently awaiting my attack. If it runs, it won’t get away without repercussions, but if I go in for an assault, I’m liable to die outright. He looks off toward Alexis and the Beta, eager to finish the fight- but trapped as we are, he can’t be so bold. A stalemate.

Ideally, I’d run circles around it forever, and I try for the briefest minute. After a few loops, though, I notice that the Alpha is sidling closer, almost imperceptibly, towards the other two combatants. If I play keep away too long, and let him get much loser, he’ll shift targets, and it’ll be a moot point. This plan is a bust, but I like where it’s going. What if I take it a step further?

I slow down a bit, lulling the cat into some security. When it feels confident enough, and we’ve slid even closer their way, he glances over to the other fight. I dash inwards once more, full blast. It takes a critical moment for the Alpha to glance back, to realize what is happening.

Surprised or not, the cat reacts swiftly. He jerks his whole head around, leveling two fat tusks my way. If I keep running towards it, I’ll be skewered for sure. That’s the point of a surprise attack, though- he hasn’t had time to process all of the dangers, especially not from a foreign monster. Muscle memory isn’t worth much when you’ve never fought a creature even vaguely resembling your enemy, you know?

For example, I’m small. Not so small that it mattered for the other Tuskat, but this specimen is so large, the difference in size can’t be ignored. Before, I leaped over a cat- now, I slide below it, clearing his fore-paws before he figures out what’s happening.

Congratulations, you’re under a big cat. Now what? I slide across the dirt. A happy, fat gut hangs away from the cat’s ribs, a delightful target. More importantly, though, there’s a good deal of integral anatomy that I can leverage. I hoped the Developers were excessive enough to go ‘all the way’ on the modeling; faith has been rewarded.

Twisting my hand into a needle, I jab as hard as I can at the Alpha’s royal jewels, wincing involuntarily. Almost instantly, he yowls in surprise and anguish, reeling back- forelegs come down hard on my spine as it lands, but the blow is unintentional, and the imbalance in footing is enough to topple the cat, tipping him to his side, right set of legs scratching aimlessly at the air.

He moves faster than I do. Up in an instant, he twists and dives, a cobra strike. I panic, rolling to the other side, but it’s too little too late, and one oversized tusk strikes a leg. The dull point crunches down hard, but it slides off as bone and muscle is pulverized, too wide to actually penetrate.

I roll again, flopping the leg back under me, fighting my way into a kneel. It’s broken, for sure. I’m beset again by the sharp pain of yet another injury.

The enraged Alpha whirls to strike again, but this time I’m ready for him. Hand tight, borrowing his momentum, my hand dives deep into the oncoming cat’s agape snout. It sinks ten odd centimeters before he realizes what’s happening- caught by sharp teeth, he clamps down tight, seizing my needle before I can do any serious damage.

My wrist buckles backwards. This is the first time I’ve really failed to skewer with a direct hit, and it’s the first time my wrist has had to bear the brunt of a misfire- unless the Shrike is secretly triple jointed, I have reason to believe that hand just got thrown on the pile of broken limbs.

To make matters worse, the Alpha practically grins at me. My hand crushed tight, he slowly clambers to all fours, dragging most of my body into the air. It’s a long moment, just me and my pain, probable karmic justice for conducting a low blow.

I try to take the pressure off, grabbing at my wrist, only to remember that I have no hand to grab with. So, I hang, slapping weakly at the cat with my stub-arm.

In an odd course of events, he tilts his head, and the pressure on the wrist fades a bit, arm sliding, my weight snapping it back in line. The pain even fades a bit, at least until the Alpha starts shaking me around like an oversized chewtoy.

He bucks like a bronco, swinging his head from side to side. My body slams down in the mud for a painful instant before I’m suspended in the air once more, practically floating.

A second slam comes, and another, and another, an increasingly rapid succession of battery as the cat tosses me about. I fight to stretch my hand, to free it, to do anything- but the grip doesn’t budge, and neither do my claws, entirely too sharp and chip-proof to give in. Ultimately, flesh and bone fail first.

For the second time in one day, a hand pops off. I tumble across the clearing, too startled and dizzy to understand much of what I see. It takes a lot of rolling before my body stops, caught in a patch of dirt. Flecks of bone riddle the ground, patches of white.

I’m not sure what happens to my body after I die. I think I’d pop into particles, just like any other player character. I may be playing a monster, but surely if you stuck around after death, some madman would try farming their own corpse to get free money.

The Developers are alarmingly keen with that sort of thing, or so the stories go. More come by the week, but a fairly early legend was that of the Thousand Rats. An enterprising ranger noticed that NPCs studiously avoided touching rats and the corpses of rats, as did most monsters, as if they were hardcoded to do so.

After some experimentation, he found that even carrion insects were averse to rat carcasses. He could make a circle of them, and the bugs would studiously refuse to touch a rat, even if it meant being trapped until they starved to death. Emboldened by this revelation, he decided to build a tower of dead rats, where he’d shoot at mobs, effectively untouchable. As normal human beings do. Even as opportunists go, this ranger seems to be a bit of an extreme case- I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns up as part of Uncle Fazio’s clique.

In any case, it turns out that the monsters and NPCs weren’t programmed to avoid rats at all. During the ‘in-universe learning’ period of the AI design process, creatures susceptible to a specific Curse the programmers threw into the game slowly began to avoid them entirely, for fear of triggering its effects.

The ranger learned about that Curse the hard way. When the tower was assembled…

the Alpha’s steps grow near. Near enough to stir my mind, bringing me back to (virtual) reality. Ignoring the pain, I shove myself out of the dirt, looking up at him.

Hardly injured. Triumphant. He takes his time, step by slow step, as if to gloat, to prove that I’ll die either way. I’m never going to finish a contract, am I? Why do people play this game, again? Maybe I should have rerolled to a non-combat role.

The Alpha stops right in front of me, grinning. He raises a huge paw- and is instantly blown away. Two jets of flame hit him, one after the other. A figure charges into view, still firing away.

Alexis Firebrand, in the flesh. Hand alight with flame, the other clenched around a half-empty flask, purple liquid sloshing. Huge gashes trail down her clothes, blood from her belly- yet she still stands, evidently triumphant. “See if I don’t-“

She stomps away, out of sight, but judging by her fury and the sound of crackling fur, not letting up on the volley. “charge that stupid bastard for-“ the cat’s yowling stops, cut short. “my goddamn potions, and shipping, and a convenience fee…”

I totter back to my bum, sitting at last, and turn to look. She’s already charbroiled the Alpha- It turns out that a pissed off mage is quite dangerous, who knew. Intimidating as she is, if I had to compare, Archstaff would probably mince her- and the oversized sabretooth- in a heartbeat. I wonder if he specializes in fire, too, or if it was just the convenient tool for the occasion.

“That makes ten?” I ask. It’s hard to keep the pain out of my voice; I have no idea how my ‘voicechanger’ will affect the tenor, but it might make it come out wrong.

“That it does, though I handled most of them.” She says. Which is true, but I have my suspicions.

“What level are they?” I ask.

“Two,” she answers, unhesitatingly. I’m quietly thankful she doesn’t second-guess the monster casually asking about ‘levels’, but maybe that’s normal in G.C.O. Still, can’t catch a break, can I? Even the weakest summon I could find is over-leveled. At least it ended in triumph for once.

An ethereal fisherman tugs at me, pulling me away. “This has been fun, and you have been kind.” I say

She tilts her head, confused. “I, uh, thanks?”

“In exchange, I will give you a tip. When drafting contracts… You can kill without seeking to ‘injure’.”

Alexis furrows her brow for a brief moment, but realization quickly dawns on her. “So that’s why- but why, then? Why didn’t you just shank me? I’ve seen enough to know you can do it, at least if I’m not ready.”

I squawk out a crude approximation of a laugh. The tugging is stronger now, as though I’ve been trapped in a net, the fishermen ready to pull me away. “Maybe I hope you will summon me again?

She freezes, then laughs too, and I wave a goodbye, sans hand. My arm ahead of me, I watch it fade away, and I, with it. Before my eyes, the scenery changes, dropping me abruptly into my Nightmare Domain. It’s changed a bit, larger, darker, and with a little less filled with the strange breathable fluid. All in all? It’s been an acceptably good day. Painful, horrifying, but that’s all pretty temporary. Cute girl is a plus. I open my menu, ready to quit.

A little red box sits by my status menu button, blinking at me. Curious, I ‘pick’ it.

Accolade: “Road Less Traveled”

Congratulations! You have successfully embarked in the underappreciated Class [SUMMONED MONSTER]. While you are not the only person to complete a Core Class Objective for Class [SUMMONED MONSTER], you are among the first 100.

Reward: Passive 1% Increase in Experience Gain.

So, this is the achievement menu? I’m making genuine progress! As for this… It’s underwhelming. 1% is better than nothing, but I can’t say it’s an amazing improvement. Accolades are supposed to be fairly common, but I’ve never heard of this accolade before.

Accolade: “Ripper”

Congratulations! You have killed an enemy stronger than you with your bare hands.

Reward: Reduced barrier to learning [AGI:Maneuver/CON:Martial Arts] skills.

As a monster, I don’t know any easy no way to see my AGI or CON, but I’m almost certain my AGI is higher. More maneuverability sounds great, so this is a lot more exciting. All in all, pretty self-explanatory. I flip to the last tab.

Advancement: “Contract? Contract?”

Congratulations! You have successfully completed your first contract. Chase down more challenging and profitable deals to further your power!

Reward: 10% higher Manifestation Efficiency.

This pop-up catches me off-guard. When I saw that “SUMMONED MONSTER” didn’t have any Grade, I figured there would be no class advancement. With this, though, it looks like I’ll be grinding Class Objectives just like anyone else. Quite unlike everyone else, I probably can’t search up what said Class Objectives actually are.

If I’ve got so many achievements, then what about my Status? Could I have actually leveled up? Excited, I close out the last pop-up, flipping over to the Status tab.

Name

Shrike

HP 7/7

MP 0/0

LV 002

Summoner

NONE

Class

SUMMONED MONSTER

Appearance

YOUNG SHRIKE MALE

Race

SHRIKE (δ-)

Learned Skills

“Apex Claws”, “Maneuver(I)”, “Acrobatics(I)”

It’s here! Level Two is here!