I lined up the sights with the zombie’s head, slowly let out my breath, and squeezed the trigger. And missed. The bullet took off the lower half of the monster’s ear before spinning off into the ruined city. With a sigh, I summoned my force shield to protect my pistol hand, and batted aside the zombie’s stumbling lunge. With my other hand, I drove my shamshir into the creature's eye, easily piercing the thin bone and impaling the brain. It was tricky to thrust with the curved sword, but unlike with the gun, I had gotten quite good at wielding my primary weapon.

I kicked the re-dead monster off my blade, and dumped the expended firearm in the pouch hanging off the back of my belt. I pulled out my second dueling pistol, pleased to note that my force shield didn’t interfere with the draw. The magic suspended the disc above my fist, leaving my hand free. I aimed at the next zombie, and this time managed to blow a hole in its skull.

Despite taking Basic Proficiency: One-Handed Firearms, my abysmal Perception score made aiming the weapons over any kind of distance a crapshoot. With a modern pistol maybe I would be doing better, but using the 19th century relics with no help from the game system was proving difficult. Still, they were good for a powerful short range execution and I had inherited plenty of ammo from Ajax, so I didn't regret taking the proficiency.

Thinking about my former companion, I looked over at my current allies to see how they were doing. The Crusader, Gerald, had waded into the front line of zombies, bellowing scripture verses to taunt the majority of the undead. Eva, the Harlequin, supported him by throwing knives and picking off zombies one by one. Her throwing knives were less effective than Ajax’s pistols had been, but she was less fragile too. Even as I watched, she slipped past a zombie’s lunge, leaving a rondell embedded in its head as she passed. The maneuver barely slowed her steady stream of throwing knives.

Sarah, as usual, was in the back lines. Her Archivist class left her with very few martial options, but she could call out openings and keep an eye out for additional enemies, directing the flow of combat.

Overall, the group was more effective then when it had just been the three of us. With Gerald playing the dedicated tank, I was free go where the battle needed me. I could act as an off-tank, distracting a powerful enemy or blocking an alley, or as a damage dealer, cutting down zombies as they were distracted by the Crusader’s holy litany. Eva could keep Sarah safe, while supporting us at range.

I still missed Ajax though. With him, our group would be far stronger. We could have used his ranged damage, and ability to take out larger threats. As I hacked apart another zombie, I also acknowledged, with some bitterness, that I just missed my friend. Even if the way things had ended hadn't been great, Ajax and I had developed a rapport over our time stuck in the game. Now Ajax was out of the game, presumably with his memories replaced. If we ever met Ajax again, I doubted our friendship would be the same.

I didn’t know how Axeton’s memory replacing technology worked, and, as far as I knew, only had the memory implantation part done on me. Having memories of sword fighting, rope tying, and my other skills added to my brain was odd, but not nearly disconcerting as the idea of memories being erased. If Ajax remembered us at all, it would be as work acquaintances.

The last zombie died as Gerald cut it in half with his huge two-handed sword. I shook my head and scolded myself for getting distracted. Even if fighting zombies was now rote, getting distracted during a fight was a recipe for disaster.

“Well, that was fun,” Gerald said, rivulets of blood trickling down from where zombie claws cut him. His aggressive fighting style left little room for defense, and enough attacks had found either gaps in his armor, or had enough force to break through the thick ringmail.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Sarah asked, concern clear in her voice.

“Not really,” Gerald replied. “One of my skills includes pain reduction, along with a strength bonus for being injured.”

We were still learning each other's abilities, this being the first time we had partied up. Gerald and Eva had approached us about joining forces after Ajax had left the game. Gerald’s main quest was focused on the Old City, and Eva just wanted the loot and experience that came with zombie killing. The choice hardly took any thought, the combat skills the two brought to the table were invaluable.

We were almost done looting the zombies of loose change, jewelry, and various tobacco products, when the sound of footsteps came from down an alley. I quickly drew my shamshir and wooden shield, then stepped between the alley and Sarah. Gerald comfortably slotted in on my left, and Eva took a flanking position off to the side. As silhouettes resolved in the shaded alley, I cursed myself for being out of loaded pistols. Ajax always reloaded immediately after each fight, but I had yet to pick up the habit.

Tension turned to confusion, as not monsters, but living humans stepped into the light. I didn’t lower my weapons as I took in the three people. The man in front wore a dirty wool coat and was armed with a cudgel in one hand and a knife in the other. Behind him was a man carrying a musket dressed in a madder red military coat. Bringing up the rear was a woman in clerical vestments, holding a slowly smoking censer.

The trio stopped, seeming just as surprised by our presence as we were by theirs. Sarah stepped up to my right.

“Hello friends! What brings you to this lovely zombie hellscape today?” She asked, beaming.

The cudgel wielder looked suspicious, and glanced back to the redcoat. “Same as you I expect,” the musketeer said as he stepped forward. “Hunting zombies for fun and profit. You’re testers from the Bitter Flagon group right?”

Realizing they were fellow testers, some of my tension eased, and I let the point of my sword drop to a low guard. “Yeah that’s right,” I said. “We are part of Jim’s guild.”

The man nodded, but his smile looked strained. “You should consider coming over to our guild instead.” The smile slipped entirely. “Jim’s guild is playing right into Axeton’s scummy fingers.”

“What do you mean? Jim’s just trying to help people” Eva asked.

The redcoat scowled. “Doing quests, buying into the whole ‘play along and you get to go home narrative.’ He is just perpetuating Axeton’s agenda.”

“What would you do instead?” Eva asked aggressively. “Just stay here forever?”

“They can’t keep us forever!” he yelled back. “That’s the whole conceit of the situation. Eventually, people in the real world will realize we are missing and start asking questions. At that point, Axeton will have no choice but to let us go. Doing the quests in the meantime is just helping the enemy test his sick game. I’m not going to let that monster benefit from our suffering.”

“What are you doing here then?” I asked. “Why come to the Old City if you aren't playing the game?”

“Have you tried not eating?” The cudgel wielder spoke up for the first time. “Letting yourself go hungry?”

I shook my head.

“You just keep getting hungrier. I think they starve our real bodies if we don’t eat in the game.”

“Not to mention that sleeping in alleys makes for poor living conditions, simulated reality or not,” the redcoat said. “Bottom line, we need money for food and rent. I’m not going to buy into Axeton’s narrative, but I’m not going to let our people go hungry either.”

“Fuck that,” Eva said. “I’m not going to wait around for some hypothetical rescue. I’m finishing this stupid game and going home.”

“And let that bastard profit from our suffering?” the man asked, incensed. He took a step forward, and I brought my weapons back up. His eyes snapped from Eva to me, hands on the gun twitching.

“Hey hey, let's take it easy,” Sarah said, her voice even. “Let’s save the philosophical differences for the pub. If we start fighting here, who knows what monsters will draw down on us. There are plenty of zombies to go around. Why don’t we agree to go our separate ways for today?”

The redcoat stepped back and nodded. “My name's Dave. If you come to your senses,” he glanced at Sarah and I, “feel free to send me a message. The more people we can get to boycott this madness, the better.”

The trio slowly backed down the alley they had come from. “Self-righteous prick,” Eva muttered as she went back to looting zombies. I watched the alleyway and reloaded my guns.