*********** AUTHOR'S NOTE. I WILL PUT IT HERE BECAUSE I KNOW SOME PEOPLE DON'T READ THE REAL AUTHOR'S NOTE!!!!!

YOU MAY BE ASKING YOURSELF, WHAT'S UP WITH THIS CHAPTER'S TITLE?

IGNORE IT, TRUST ME.

DO YOU STILL WANT AN EXPLANATION?

FINE.

THE OLD 17 AND 18 CHAPTERS SUCK.

SO I'M REWRITING THEM.

IF YOU KEEP READING, YOU'LL EVENTUALLY ARRIVE AT THE OLD CHAPTER 17. SO I'LL ASK FOR YOUR PATIENCE WHILE I FINISH THESE REWRITES.

THANKS

SEPTEMBER 01, 2022

********

***

**

He saw himself working in The Santa María’s hangar. Moving weapon crates and repairing the compromised locks was fine, but his favorite task was giving maintenance to the Custos.

Alan had to climb up a ladder and walk through a service ramp to reach their heads and check their systems. One of his favorites was red with green eyes, which he nicknamed Captain Ketchup.

“How are you doing today, Captain?” Alan would say every morning, waving at it. The stationary 60-feet tall metal statue always remained silent. “Your day to save the universe will come someday, I know it! In the meantime, let me see if everything is in order, okay?”

That was his routine for a week until the eighth day when Alan noticed that Captain Ketchup’s eyes were glowing.

“Get back, Alan!” one of the Isabella-controlled drones said, as the red Custos removed its bindings and stepped forward.

“Captain?” Alan muttered as the shadow of a giant foot grew over him. The last thing he saw before a service robot pulled him back, was another blue Custos, shielding him.

“A remnant survived, Alan. The hangar is no longer safe until I take care of it. Return to your room now!”

Even after the automatic reinforced doors closed, he could still hear a constant banging metallic noise.

17.1

He opened his eyes, finding a known ceiling. I’m here, safe and sound in the Shooting Stars’ Headquarters.

He jumped out of the bed, eager to start the day, ignoring the fact that a sunless morning awaited him outside. This is it. Today is the day, Ashley, he thought, while frowning at the gray clouds above.

He dressed as quickly as he could, putting on his new favorite red jacket, and exhaled in front of the mirror.

“Astrid, do you have a minute? We need to talk… Hmm, no… Not like that.” He turned serious. “Babe, there’s something you should know… Wait, babe? Are you serious? So cringe.” He cleared his throat. “Astrid, listen to me, I need to tell you something really important… The—s-s-safety of… Dammit.” He pursed his lips. Ashley, I know we should maintain this a secret, but… “She’s the only one I can trust…”

Finding new resolution on his own gaze, he nodded to his reflection and walked towards the door. Before getting out, Amelia’s black artificial beetle flew from last night's clothes and silently landed on his baggy pants.

Astrid will understand. I know it, he thought, while making his way to the cafeteria. Once she agrees to help me, I wonder if she’d let Ashley train in that private dungeon too. After picking her up first, of course.

He glanced outside, to the swimming pool and the training grounds, imagining his new life. We could get used to this place. And… Is it my imagination, or is this place really, really quiet?

The cafeteria was empty, except for the NPCs that greeted him. No one in the Trophy Room and the Library.

I don’t even want to peek at the PVP arena. He shivered, remembering only a fraction of what transcurred there, as the sound of people reached him from afar, especially Astrid’s powerful voice.

“Keep in mind that now that we’re at the bottom of the ranking charts, we may never reclaim our place back!” Her voice was heard through speakers, as Alan peered inside a large room. Astrid was standing atop a podium, wearing navy-blue formal military attire, her hair tied in an updo. “So if any of you still have doubts in your heart, don’t hesitate! If you’re not satisfied with how things have turned out, you have my blessing to leave! I won’t chase you, I won’t punish you, just go and never come back!”

She maintained a firm posture while a large group left. “Let’s go,” Alan heard one of them say, “this guild is done for.”

Astrid quickly saluted at them. “Thank you for your hard work! Without you, Shooting Stars would have never climbed to the top!”

Alan hid behind a lion’s monument and started counting. Close to thirty people are leaving…

When the building’s doors shut, Astrid continued: “To all of you that stayed, are you sure about this decision?!” she asked in a deeper voice. “Whoever stays with me will have to work twice, no, three times harder than before now that we have been reduced to less than half of our people! Would you follow me to the depths of hell if I asked you?!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Are you still Shooting Stars?!”

“Proudly, ma’am!”

“Do you still thirst for the glory of reaching the top?!”

“Until we reach the end of the universe, ma’am!”

“Then I have something to tell all of you!” She met eyes with every one of them, showing her tenacity until tears started running down her cheeks. “Thanks for staying with me, you idiots!”

Is she crying?!

Alan returned to his spying spot, looking at Tamara and some women from the crowd, forming a wall around Astrid that kept her out of sight.

Alan then watched a male guilder stomping his way towards Oscar, the big guy that had brought him to Londorus alongside Marissa Laflamme.

“If you hadn’t listened to Marco’s orders and brought Ghost here, we could have avoided all this!” the guilder shouted, grabbing Oscar from the collar of his shirt.

“You’re a fool if you really believe that,” the taller Oscar replied, without a hint of anger in his voice. “This has been a long-time coming.”

Alan stepped back, returning to the safety provided by the monument’s shadow, but he could not stand there.

He went outside of the building, found the main entrance, and ran towards Londorus’ streets.

17.2

“He exited HQ,” Amelia Laflamme said through Party Chat while sipping Piña Colada. “It’s all yours.”

“This was faster than I thought!” Karen Svensson replied, giggling. “A lucky star is finally looking my way. I can feel it!”

“Yeah, yeah. Go before you lose it. He’s in…” Amelia expanded the system window that displayed her spy beetle’s video feed, and the most remarkable landmark she recognized was a giant soft drink ad. “Lancesmith Bridge…”

“Understood. Wish me luck!”

“Nah, I don’t think I will…” Amelia said to herself while cutting off the communications.

“Excuse me, miss?” the NPC behind the bar asked, smiling. She stared at him, recognizing he had green eyes. Seeing that made her look away.

“Wasn’t talking to you. Give me another one of these.” She raised her cup aloft, but the NPC stepped back.

“I’m sorry, miss, but the bar is currently closed.”

Oh, so it’s time…

“Okay, everyone, it's time to go!” Kathleen Maher announced, as Death Bringers and ex-Shooting Stars alike followed her outside the building.

“Our Guild Master is going to move the bar,” the NPC said to Amelia. “We must leave. Come this way, please.”

“There’s a backdoor through the kitchen, right?” Amelia said, giving the last sip. “I’ll use that.”

“Understood,” the NPC said, walking away.

After helping myself to another drink…

Amelia jumped over the bar, found two bottles of wine, and saved them in her inventory. Thanks, Kat. She then strolled towards the exit, ignoring the constant system messages that urged her to leave.

Outside, while she waited for her Black-Winged Tiger to spawn, she admired the gray sky. I remember seeing the same weather when Marissa and I left Carcella.

“You weren’t here when that happened,” she said to her summoned tiger, which purred as she caressed it under its chin. “Between you and me, Marissa cried a lot. Don’t tell her that or she’ll get mad at me.”

She mounted it and immediately took flight, stopping only to watch the building gradually getting smaller. In a minute, The Drinking Banshee was the size of a dollhouse, which her ex-guild partner took from his new boss’ hands.

This is the last thing I’ve done for you, Amelia thought, exhaling. Have fun in your new guild…

17.3

“Forget your troubles drinking something cosmic! Tee-hee!”

The pink-haired Idol from the ad made a V sign with her left hand while holding a soda can in her right one. Her purple dress matched the brand’s logo, and her smile was bright and almost too sincere, as if she truly believed what she was advertising.

“Oh, man…” Alan muttered, “I never thought of listening to the advice of an ad, but I really need a sip of that.”

“Would you like to try the new Moontain Dew, miss?” a jolly voice got his attention.

A few feet away from him, a female NPC wearing the same purple dress as the idol was addressing every passerby. A vending machine, with elongated robotic arms and tiny feet, danced behind her.

“Sir! Would you like to try the new Moontain Dew?” the NPC said to Alan while approaching him. “Here’s a free sample. One per account. Tee-hee!”

The energetic, seemingly happy robot stepped forward, and pulled out a can from its metallic ‘belly’. “Here you go, sir! Enjoy, and have a nice day!”

“Well, then,” Alan said once he was alone again, taking a sip. When the sweet taste invaded his mouth, he gulped it all. “This is false advertising, Miss Idol…” He chuckled bitterly. “You said I could forget my problems drinking this…”

NEW CONTENT STARTS HERE

He crushed the empty can by closing his fist and repressed the urge to scream.

Everything he had done during the last two days have been for the worse.

I lost my partner and got myself tortured… I misjudged an obvious, irredeemable asshole, and because of it, Astrid got laughed at… And now because of my existence, I ruined everything she has built for…

Alan bit his lower lip until it bled and hit the railway with his fist.

I can’t do anything ri--!

“There you are, little mouse!” a cheerful girl said behind him. “I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

Too tired to respond or even react, Alan limited himself to slowly turn around and squint at the person.

“Huh?”

* * *

“Where the hell is he?” Karen Svensson hissed quietly after getting to the opposite side of Lancesmith bridge.

Am I in the wrong place? Did I miss him on my way here? she asked herself, glancing at the giant soft drink advertisement suspended above the river behind her.

She opened her User Interface to call Amelia, but after long, exasperating seconds without getting an answer, she grunted.

Seriously, Red! If I have to spend more time than necessary wearing this stupid face in public, I’ll…!

Grimacing, she opened another virtual window that served as a personal mirror to corroborate that the illusion had not worn off yet. In the reflection, Astrid Bradford was glaring back at her.

Oh, how much I hate this face…

Karen had decided not to wear makeup while pretending to be her ex-Guild Master, and yet, deep inside the farthest corner of her mind, she reluctantly admitted that the blonde chick was somewhat pretty.

Freaking whatever. I have work to do. He can’t be that far away.

Karen sighed and walked towards the street next to the bridge while keeping an eye on every passerby.

This was supposed to be a straightforward task. Everything to please her new master, Kathleen Maher.

Karen could not wait to find Alan, get into character, and parrot the script that Amelia had written for her the night before.

And I’d never miss the chance to be as hurtful as possible towards a meek moron like him. Some of these lines are delicious! Especially the part where I’ll say:

‘I was a fool to believe that your ghostly memory had given me the strength to do the impossible when it was always him who carried me all along…’

Emphasis on ‘him’... Hu-hu-hu. Oh, Amelia, you fiend… ‘Ghostly memory’? Only you could’ve written something as devilish as this.

“Golden Comet,” a gruff voice called aloud, behind her. “Do you have a minute?”

Karen loudly sighed. She knew there was a small possibility that someone would recognize that ‘blond bitch’ face and would speak to her.

Seriously, Assford, don’t you have shame? If regular people knew how you really are, your fame would be as low as your temperament… Whatever! Whoever this is, if they ask for an autograph or something similar, I’m going to puke on their face.

“What do you want?” The Fake Astrid asked, annoyed. “I’m quite busy right now, and I rarely spoke with the likes of you, anyway. So…”

There. You have one less fan today, bitch.

“Huh… Never thought the Golden Comet would run away from a fight,” that person said, making Karen stop in her tracks.

Although she was not the real deal, the simple fact that someone had called her a coward made her grit her teeth. Turning around, Karen found a warrior wearing full-plate crimson armor.

What’s this all about? Is this someone that wants to make a name of themselves by picking a fight with Assford? It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Great! I finally have your attention,” the person said. “I'm a huge fan of yours!”

Karen did not recognize her armor’s design, and it did not seem to have any visible emblem or any sign of identity. The warrior’s helmet not only hid her face and gender but also any info the Novus would usually show, like their name and level.

I knew it. Karen snickered. A complete loser that thinks that can go toe to toe with a Ranker after spending too many hours watching Battle Streams.

Well, I don’t have time for this.

Karen accumulated mana in a second in the form of a magic circle above her head, and rapid-cast, stretching out her hand. “Multielemental Beam.”

A rainbow-colored column of light hit the stranger, hiding them out of sight inside a cloud of dust and smoke. The ground shook, sounding like a loud heartbeat, and the windows from the buildings nearby vibrated collectively.

Quick-casting took a toll on Karen. Her mana pool dropped significantly, and the tip of her fingertips fumed for a couple of seconds, as she endured a burning pain traveling all the way through her limbs.

But she did not care.

“‘Glorified slugs’ my ass,” she muttered to herself, remembering what Astrid had told her the day before, outside of the Drinking Banshee.

Although we’re inside a Safe Zone, this should be more than enough to get rid of some insignificant--

“Man, that was new!” the unknown warrior said aloud, stepping out of the resulting 5-feet crater. “Knowing you, I thought you'd come for a quick punch to the gut or the face, but you got me.” They tilted her head left and right, cracking his neck. “You really got me…”

17.4

Far from there, inside the Shooting Star’s headquarters, Astrid Bradford looked at the rain falling over Londorus from her office’s window. “Do you know the reason Marissa is offline?”

“She died in battle last night,” Tamara informed behind her. “...Fighting William The Stoic. That's according to Helen.”

“Why was she--? Forget it.” Astrid exhaled, absently opening her User Interface to change her formal military clothes for a white crop top and blue jeans. “Okay…” she mumbled, walking towards the door.

“Are you going somewhere?” Tamara asked after glancing at Astrid’s lost gaze.

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Yes, Guild Master.”

Although Astrid assured herself to be calmed, she rushed her steps towards his room, where she knocked on the door. “Alan? Can we talk?” She sighed. “Please?”

Getting no response, she slowly entered the empty room, finding only his last night dinner outfit, perfectly folded over the bed. “Where are you?”

Looking for answers, she looked for his location on her Friend List, as Tamara stormed inside the room, looking pale.

“Guild Master! There’s a—We have to go!”

To Astrid, finding the place empty and Tamara’s alarmed voice combined, seemed like an ominous foreshadowing.

Like the peace before the storm… she thought, swallowing hard.

17.5

30 minutes ago.

There goes all my money, Alan thought, watching the girl sitting by her side, gulping a Moontain Dew can.

“Ahhh! That hit the spot!” the girl beamed with purple-painted lips. “Thanks for the treat, Alan Warden!”

“Just call me Alan…” he said, peeping at her once more to study her clothes.

Who seemed to be a girl his age, was wearing a black oversized windbreaker jacket that allowed her to hide her face and hands. From time to time, Alan could have a glimpse of her pale chin and white-as-ceramic fingertips, and purple nail polish.

Although I don’t mind treating a stranger to a drink, 50 gold per can is a steal… I think... It seems that inflation hit The Novus hard during my 3-year absence.

He shivered and took a modest sip from his second can of the day, as the girl was seemingly staring at him.

Although I can’t see her gaze, having a girl this close is still super awkward. Can she even see with that thing over her head?

“Um… sorry, but you haven’t introduced yourself yet, so if you don’t mind…” he said, making her giggle.

“Does it really matter what I call myself, Alan? I’d probably come out with a fake name, anyway. What we’re going to discuss it’s supposed to be top secret, you know?” She got closer to him and whispered, raising her index finger: “I’m not supposed to be here, so, shhhh.”

“Got it. I’m glad to finally talk with someone about this, regardless.”

The girl stood silent for a moment before swinging her legs up and down, showing her black leather leggings and heeled ankle boots. “Sure. Glad to be of help!”

At least I THINK she’s trying to help me. When she approached me on that bridge minutes ago, telling me she knew about me logging out three years ago, my heart raced like crazy.

Did an Administrator send her? Or maybe she’s one of them. So many questions!

And yet… I mustn't truly trust her.

There’s also the possibility that she’s nothing more than a curious, regular User that, after looking at my level, put one and two together and just wants to get info out of me… Because… she’s just bored or something!

“I really loved trying this new flavor,” she said, crushing the can and throwing it all the way towards a garbage bin, 30 feet away from their bench. “I’m always trying new things every day. What about you, Alan?”

“Yes, sure. Everything is new to me since I logged back in, after all, but there is also something comforting about routines and the mundane.”

“How about pain and adversity, Alan? Do you also enjoy them as much?”

“Enjoy it? Why would I?”

“Pleasure doesn't differ that much from pain.” She shrugged. “They’re quite similar, although most of the people may say otherwise. What’s your honest opinion? Do you also think that they’re the complete opposite of each other?”

Why is she suddenly asking this?

Alan wanted nothing more than to study that person’s eyes and try to read her intentions, but only her smiling purple lips were visible.

I suppose she’s just trying to cut the ice between us, since we may talk about a serious topic in a minute… If buying her a soft drink wasn’t enough…

“Well, they’re both stimuli, yes,” Alan replied, “but you can’t compare them at all. One is sought on a daily basis, and the other is mostly avoided.”

“Yeaaah! What’s up with that?” she intoned, and Alan pictured her doing a funny look behind the hood. “You’d think that people would seek pain as much as pleasure since they’re part of the same balance, but no.”

Now I'm really wondering what’s this all about? Is this a test?

Alan left his drink aside, took a deep breath, and placed both hands on his knees. This is my serious mode then. You asked for it.

Alan glanced at the two triangles adorning her hood, before replying. “That’s true, ‘Cat Ears’, but you’re omitting the most important fact: Pain is reserved to signal when something is wrong with one’s body, while pleasure can be received indefinitely.”

She tilted her head. “Isn’t having too much of a good thing considered bad?”

“It is, but having too much pain is obviously more destructive. The mind would corrupt over time and the body would break beyond repair. There’s no comparison.”

“But it’s the same with pleasure. It creates greedy, lustful, gluttonous, and lazy people. Aren’t there old teachings that say that those traits are deplorable?”

“Well… When you put it that way, I guess so…”

“You’ve just confirmed my theory. Despite being equally similar, people avoid pain as much as possible. Bias much?” she said annoyed, deviating her gaze frontward. She then whispered: “I thought you’d be different since you’re practically an outsider, but you’re as hardwired as the rest. So disappointing…”

The shimmering, crystalline waters of the Thermasis river in front of them made the buildings at the distance look like a mirage, and Alan wondered for a moment if he was really there.

I could be still sleeping outside, resting from another day of work at The Santa María. Or maybe my body was incompatible with the Novus System, and I died a long time ago inside my Cryo Chamber. This illusion may be the result of my deteriorating brain, as a way to pass time until it ultimately shuts down…

That may explain why so many bad things have happened to me consecutively.

Could all this be the guilt inside me?

He grabbed his drink and gulped it.

Or this encounter could be another misfortune in disguise, slowly opening its jaws around me.

“Forget all about that, okay?” she continued. “Tell me, Alan, how are things going outside?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t remember saying something about being outside.”

“Huh? What is that supposed to mean? You were offline for three years. Where else would you--?”

“I was in a coma. It’s as simple as that.”

“I thought you’d be honest with me,” she said, bitterly.

He turned his gaze to her. “Are you an Administrator?”

“No.”

“Bummer.”

An awkward silence followed through, which was only filled by the squawking of white birds, peacefully floating on the river.

What are those? Some kind of aquatic chickens?

“Is that the game we’re going to play?” she blurted out, standing up. “Fine. Change of plans then. I want to show you something.”

Alan observed her stroll towards the railing in front of them. Her attitude has completely changed.

He followed her, maintaining his distance. “I’d rather you tell me who you really are.”

“I’ve already told you. I don’t have a name. I’m just the embodiment of progress.”

“Yeah, right,” he replied, turning around and ready to go, but something grabbed his ankle.

Confused, he looked down, finding a shadow that seemed to pull him down. Not the strangest thing I’ve seen since I got back here, but…

It was not his shadow, for his own was in the opposite direction. Something almost tangible was grabbing him, stretching out all the way to that girl’s feet.

“Do you consider The Novus a paradise, Alan?” she asked from her place, looking at the distance.

Not this again…

“Compared to what we left behind, yes. A utopia. Although a fake one,” he reluctantly replied, this time in an annoyed tone of voice.

“Well said, Alan,” she said, giggling. “A fake one. And yet, people don’t seem to care. As long as The Novus keeps providing them with food, sex, and entertainment, people are eager to consume them in large quantities. You can’t get fat here unless you want to. There are no diseases, and there are plenty of activities to keep everyone busy. There’s war here too, but it’s inconsequential since death has become a joke. Your ancestors fought for liberty and independence, but those have been traded now by the seek of fame and luxury. A perfect utopia indeed.”

‘My’ ancestors?

“What’s with all this philosophical bullshit?! What does it have to do with me? And what did you expect?! This is a controlled, safe environment. Humanity has suffered enough. We’ve earned this peace!”

“Wrong,” she replied, raising her voice. “The previous generation and the one before it made it possible, and how did that turn out too, huh? Those two did everything in their power to correct their parent’s mistakes, and in their arrogance, doomed Earth.” She paused, to smirk at him. “...Or better said, they finally advanced human civilization, after a long century of stagnation. This spaceship is proof of it…”

I… I don’t like where this is going…

“Miss… Could you please let me go?”

“Not yet,” she giggled, stretching out her hand. “I need you to stand where you are. It’s your exclusive seat for what I’m going to show you, and the lazy, gluttonous, lustful, greedy people of this joke of a city… Superior Summoning…”

The surrounding air became heavier, and the Thermasis’ waters rippled, as in preparation of something coming.

She said ‘summoning’, didn’t she?

Alan could only remember the guilder from the day before at the Shooting Star practice grounds, bringing a dinosaur out of thin air. Is she going to do something similar? With what purpose?

As he tried in vain to free his feet, he saw it. A large magic circle in the sky. He was sure that anyone in a one-mile radius could see it.

“What are you going to do?” he asked, shaking, as the young woman snickered.

“Your generation, The Tandem, have become complacent, Alan Warden… As I’ve already told you, I’m the Embodiment of Progress… So let me give you all a taste of what hardship really is.”

She grinned, as the purple aura around her got transferred towards the magic circle.

Alan’s mind flashed with images from the security footage Isabella had shown him.

“Cat Ears! D-Don’t do it!”

“Draquinox…” she intoned, overjoyed. “The Two-Headed Reeve Dragon…”

Something gigantic fell over the river, splashing them both and the few passersby that had gathered there. It took Alan’s brain several seconds to register what stood in front of him. Because I never thought the Developers would create something like this.

He first saw a huge white scaly wall, and besides it, something that seemed to absorb the surrounding light, obscuring the horizon. When he looked up, he found two giant snakes trying to bite each other. One was white as a pearl, and the other as black as the night sky.

It’s like seeing a star fighting a black hole.

“Get along, you two!” the girl said aloud, making a magic circle appear around her wrist as if it were a bracelet. At her command, the two serpent-like creatures shook their heads and stood still, growling. The rain poured down, as Alan watched the young woman turn to him and smile. “There’s nothing to worry about, Little Mouse. After all, they’re all immortal, don’t they?”

She giggled, at the same time one monster concentrated mana inside its maw and released it as a powerful beam of light.