Rupert Ainsworth

Heroes’ Hub: War Shattered City

Rupert looked about the mausoleum beneath the chapel with its broken crypt doors on either side of the space and a sixteen-foot wide half-wall of crypts running the length of the building and ending in heavy, wooden double doors at one end, and spiral stairs vanishing into the underground catacombs.

He looked at Jason and shook his head. “I’m nowhere near where you want me. Half the time I fumble my lunges. I gave up counting the number of times I dropped my blade.”

This whole ‘because of story’ clock behind events made no sense — the concept must be newer than any book he had read. But, then again, how could he explain to anyone outside the House that the Houses don’t buy books? What books he had read were those in the public domain, and thus, only that which were published before 1928. Verne, Twain, Wells, Dumas, Poe, London were the authors he had read. The idea of the world stopping until some event happened made no sense.

Maybe the strange use of the word ‘story’ was a game thing.

While he worked for Beyul, the corporation, he had never played Beyul, the game. Heck, the corporation probably just paid him so they could keep Tapan happy.

Although, he had heard one of his songs — mangled and degraded. But the song was clearly his. So, maybe they had decided to use a few of his pieces. And, earlier in the day, he had written more pieces to be added to Beyul — if that was what actually happened to his music. But he never uploaded his music. He didn’t even know who did. He just passed the songs to Tapan.

Jason clapped him on the shoulder. “So, you are feeling like a first level character.”

“What?” Rupert shook his head in confusion. What does a first level character have to do with anything?

Jason gave him the easy smile of a mentor. “That’s the way these games start off, brand new, beginning characters. Usually, games have a leveling system, starting with either one or zero. In your case, most likely zero. By performing actions, taking part in combat, and learning from instructors, one advances. So, do you feel like a first level character, yet?”

Rupert shrugged. “Is a first level character good?”

Jason laughed. “Hell, no. But everybody has to start somewhere. How many players do you think are currently playing?”

Rupert listened to the parts of the interface that Beyul hadn’t shut down. Tapan and his development team never understood the musical portion of the interfaces. And the interface fragments probably didn’t matter much right now. He closed his eyes to better hear the songs playing elsewhere in the game. “Ten.”

Jason nodded, “Ten million seems about right for a surprise drop.”

“No,” Rupert said. “Ten players. Us and four others.”

“Wait. What?” Jason looked as lost as Rupert felt.

Rupert studied his feet trying to hide his petty feelings. “The Beyul Two-point-Zero game is currently invite, special passcode, and Easter egg access only. I found an easter egg and invited your band. And now we are all locked incommunicado for twenty-eight days. Sorry.”

“What? No. Well, I mean, yeah. Not playing our concert sucks.” Jason turned Rupert toward the main body of the mausoleum’s divided hall. “Look about you. This is amazing. If other game designers pay a lot of attention to detail, they can make some impressive environments. But look at the dirt — it’s like actual dirt — you can scuff it and leave prints. And, in there, cobwebs — I mean get stuck in your hair or stuck on your face if you run into them — cobwebs. And the NPCs are flat out real. They aren’t some walking set of canned lines, or if they are, it is one massive can for each one of them.

“We all got the pop-up, and, together, we decided to do this. No one forced us. And here we are. Beyul Two-point-fucking-Oh. Un-fucking-believable.”

Rupert shook his head as he looked about the space. “But it is …”

“Level one, baby. Oops, looks like they are finishing the last box. Time to fly and smite.”

Something Tapan had said was niggling at the back of Rupert’s mind — refusing to make itself known. But it was enough to make the whole scene seem … foreboding.

Rupert sighed and pulled out his sword hilt from his hip.

Blue liquid flowed out of the hilt to crystallize into its thin triangular stabbing blade. Mandie had called the hilt of woven steel wire a Pappenheimer hilt with its loops and weaves forming angel wings for the guard.

A little better prepared for its weight, he kept ahold of the sword. Keeping his wings tucked in, he moved to where Jason wanted him to be during the first wave of attackers — in the back.

The team nodded to each other.

Something struck the door. The single thud reverberated through the mausoleum. Wood moaned then cracked. The heavy wood doors burst open and rebounded off the walls and bounced off of the corners of the armored vehicle with a long metal pole attached its front. Harsh lights blazed into the chapel.

Screams came from the faithful. Several carried the last of the boxes to the stairs descending down to the catacombs.

Men popped out the sides of the armored vehicle. Gunfire cut across the chapel.

Bullets stung Rupert and the other angels. He looked down and saw holes leaking blue liquid. My blood is blue, he thought as his body failed him. He collided with the floor.

“Musician’s Administrative Override Accepted,” Beyul commented. “Temporal rewind engaged. Please seek alternative courses of action.”

The for good measure, Beyul added, “Achievement Unlocked: Safety Not Guaranteed.”

Rupert blinked. He was standing. He checked his chest — no bullet holes.

The doors had yet to be broken open.

He looked around to verify that the locals had yet to finish packing. He started to say something to Jason but realized that he had no idea what Jason’s in-game name was. Damn. He walked over and put a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I’m guessing that first level characters are not bulletproof.”

Jason grinned at him. “I doubt any character is bulletproof. Why do you ask?” Then he looked about the mausoleum. “Oh. This is a bad place to get pinned down. Any idea about the respawn penalties?”

Rupert shook his head. “No … wait. I heard somewhere that they disabled respawn due to problems.”

Jason’s jaw dropped. “Disabled? When? Did they reinstate it?”

Rupert racked his brain. How could he say what he knew? Forums — the developers were always talking about things they read on the forums. He shook his head. “Not according to the forums.” He hoped he used the word correctly.

“Chase, Integrity, we need to break out of here.” Jason gestured toward the doors.

The big drummer nodded and charged the doors. The guitarist grabbed the grip of her spear and sapphire crystalized in a spiral pattern around the shaft and formed the spear’s tip; she followed close to the drummer.

“Get to the catacombs,” Jason called to the locals and ran behind the others.

Rupert followed their keyboardist and the singer.

Chase pulled on one door, Integrity pulled on the other. Jason spread his wings and charged into the harsh glow of spotlights and took flight.

Rupert heard shouts and gunfire.

Then the end of the mausoleum was engulfed in fire — the wall of fire washed over him. He was flying backward, falling, burning.

“Musician’s Administrative Override Accepted,” Beyul commented. “Temporal rewind engaged. Please seek alternative courses of action.”

Rupert blinked. He was standing whole and without scorch marks. He sighed.

The doors had yet to be broken open.

He looked around to verify that the locals had yet to finish packing. He started to say something to Jason but realized that he still had no idea what Jason’s in-game name was. Damn. He walked over and put a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “The enemy will probably bust through those doors with the intent to kill everyone down here. The locals are almost done. So, if we are going to do anything, we need to catch the first wave by surprise.”

Jason looked surprised. “Look at you thinking tactically. And here I thought Mandie taught you just enough so you won’t gut yourself on your sword.”

Rupert nodded. “She did.”

“So you’re holding out on us.”

“What …” Rupert fumbled through possible replies.

Jason smirked. “Just kidding. I know this isn’t your thing, but that’s a good catch.” He looked about the space. “The only way to catch them by surprise is upstairs. We’re moving up and out the windows.”

After crashing through the boarded-up stain glass windows, the band pointed their spears at the wave of troops. Nothing happened.

“Angels,” someone screamed.

With a yell, “Smite,” Jason charged.

A heavy shot dropped Jason.

Rupert felt pain — breaking bones, an ache from his heart. Then his body went numb.

Off in the distance, he saw skyscrapers burning. Smoking filling the air. Cold rain coursing off his skin.

Blimps floated in the distance — perhaps trying to put out the fires so far above the ground. Lightning flashed amongst the clouds, but no thunder.

He looked down at his chest. Blue liquid came squirting out of his chest, and he tumbled out of the sky.

His vision fuzzed, and pain screamed throughout his head.

“We need reinforcements. More Angel necromancers in the cemetery.”

He collided against the pavement, and darkness claimed him.

“Musician’s Administrative Override Accepted,” Beyul commented. “Temporal rewind engaged. Please seek alternative courses of action.”

Then Beyul added, “Achievement Unlocked: Thrice Upon A Time.”

Rupert blinked. He was standing. Again.

The doors had yet to be broken open. Again.

He rubbed the spot where he had been shot. Again. “We don’t have ranged weapons,” he said as he put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. Again. “They’ll probably bust through those doors, and this is a bad place to be pinned down.” Were those the right words?

Jason pointed his spear at the doors — clearly expecting something to happen. “Damn, first level. No ranged smiting. Integrity, Chase, we need to take the fight to them. Close quarter fighting.”

Rupert shook his head as Jason prepared another jump out the chapel’s windows. Would this time be any better, or did he need to direct them in a different direction? “What about the catacombs? Would they be easier to defend?”

Jason shook his head. “We need to buy them some time. Chase, Integrity, take the side windows. Valiant and I will take the center. Cornelia and Sincerity, out the side and be our overwatch and healers.”

Rupert nodded toward the faithful, “They’re close to ready —” he then nodded toward the doors “— so, they’re ready.”

Jason smiled at him. “You’re getting it. Go!”

The group ran up the stairs.

Jason made a leap, a flight, a crashing through the center boards. He made the actions look easy.

Rupert did his best to follow. He made through the opening and over the mass of troops preparing to assault the chapel.

“War Vassal connection established.”

Jason sent a chat order to Rupert. Then he dived straight down into the battering ram armored vehicle. His spear stabbed deep into its chassis causing the vehicle to grind to a stop.

Rupert listened to the interface fragments. “Okay.”

Chase stabbed his spear into an armored personnel carrier. The booming sound reverberated around the graveyard.

Integrity drew her sword hilt, the blue liquid crystalized into sapphire and sliced deep into a bunch of soldiers. Red blood spilled onto the ground bringing a smile to her lips.

Rupert poured on speed flying straight at the near trees. His nervousness — about being first level, about being shot, about being a shot away from dying — vanished. There was a calmness in the action of flying to find the snipers. And there was his first target.

The sniper saw him coming and tried to line up a shot.

Rupert easily rolled out of the way of the bullet. Not wanting to kill the human, he hacked at the weapon and hit the longest part of the rifle.

Although his blade failed to cut through the barrel, Rupert noted the barrel was definitely ruined.

He then charged another sniper position that Beyul kept hinting about. Another sword swing and another mangled barrel. But his hand stung and his blade fell next to the boots of the invader’s rearguard.

Off in the massive cemetery, something hit the ground. Trees bobbed as if they were sticks floating in a rippling puddle.

Although Rupert felt no fear from the thought of fighting the mortals about him, the rippling ground brought a sense of dread. He realized he had little interest in facing something which generated that much force.

“Warning. Inbound Omicron Tier Threat. Omni is over [10] tiers stronger than you. Omni is over [200] levels higher than you. Omni is capable of winning against more than [10,000] individuals of your ability level. Survival chance to find Tapan Message: Zero.”

Rupert charged the rearguard — hoping to knock them away from his sapphire sword. He felt nothing more than concern about the inbound creature of doom, which he felt odd about. He had never been this calm about anything in his life. And he knew if Jason told him to fight this Omni, he would, and he would die, and he would feel nothing but this odd calmness. Admittedly Beyul would rewind time, but that was just a waste. Beyul had given warning, so he should heed it. “Jason, we need to retreat into the catacombs.”

“Inbound high-level character.”

Rupert shrugged and reached for his sword. He collided with three humans in riot gear. “Capable of slaying armies of first level characters.”

Jason goggled for a moment.

After hooking his fingers into the wing loops, Rupert ran, leaped, spread his wings, and aimed for the center hole which he supposed once held a stain glass window. He landed hard and a bit awkward. He stumbled into a run and collided into a wall of fear.

The soldiers had assault rifles, and he had already died thrice. They had all died thrice. And now something massive was headed their way — something which made the ground ripple like puddles. But what mattered was the orders Jason had given.

His eyes bulged and struggled to even think.

The others made it through the windows, and they all ran down into the mausoleum.

Flight was good. He fled behind them.

Then an earthquake rattled the stones of the mausoleum. A wave rippled through the walls and the floor — tossing everyone off their feet.

Rupert breathed a sigh of relief as the rattling of the building subsided. He staggered to his feet — part of him wanted to stay low in case another earthquake struck them, but the thing which made the quake was still coming. He had yet to complete the leader’s orders — he had yet to get into the catacombs.

What was going on? The unnatural calmness had returned after the overwhelming wave of fear.

“We’re still alive?” Jason asked.

The faithful who had yet to make it into the catacombs stared at the ceiling and the still standing walls.

“Inbound Omicron Tier Threat. Survival chance to find Tapan Message — zero.” Beyul warned.

Rupert shook his head. “Not if we stay here.”

The remaining stragglers hurried for the stairs.

“How bad is it?” Jason asked as he helped up a fallen man.

Rupert shrugged. “If we are level one, then —” he waved at the doors “— it is over …” He ran behind Jason to take their turns to disappear down the stairways into the catacombs. “Over two hundred levels higher. But I think it’s worse than that.”

Jason took a step down and then looked up at him. “Worse?”

Rupert nodded and opened his mouth to explain.

The doors to the mausoleum exploded — entirely ripped from their hinges — away from the doorway. Splintered remains of the heavy boards once bound together by iron bands flew across the open space toward Rupert.

He spread his wings and ducked his head.

Some of the wood pelted him, and some of those bounced off of him to strike the floor. Other pieces of door changed course to avoid him. Dust, smoke, leaves, dirt swirled in the massive windstorm forced into the building.

The scream of rending metal filled his ears.

He collided with Jason and was now falling — in a tangled mess of wings, arms, and legs.

“Musician’s Administrative Override Accepted,” Beyul commented.

“No,” Rupert groggily demanded. He had to think. “Give me time to recover.”

“Temporal gear disengaged. Please correct courses of action.”

“Rewind to us being at the top of the stairs — before the doors were thrown open.”

“Temporal rewind engaged. Please seek alternative courses of action.”

Jason helped up a fallen man. “How bad is it?”

“I’ll explain at the bottom. Grab him and jump.” Then, without waiting to see if Jason did so, Rupert stepped off over the hole running through the middle of the spiral stairs. He folded his wings tight about him and hoped he would fit.

As gravity took hold, the spiral stairs flew past him. His head slipped beneath the floor.

He felt the presence of Jason above him.

The sounds from above cued his memories.

The doors to the mausoleum exploded — entirely ripped from their hinges — away from the doorway. Splintered remains of the heavy boards once bound together by iron bands flew across the open space now above them. The scream of rending metal filled his ears — the armored battering-ram vehicle plowing through the busted crypts running down through the center of the mausoleum. Stone, dust, dirt, and leaves rushing toward him in one giant unstoppable wall of force and death.

Rupert hit the bottom.

“Achievement Unlocked: About Time.”

Jason and the man landed on him.

“Skill Point Earned: ‘Boot to the head.’”

Then there was just darkness.