Chapter 707: Game over
Mason knew a druid dream when he saw one. The world was too foggy, too opaque. The edges of his vision blurred so all he could see were the things he was supposed to. He braced himself for whatever that was.
“Dad? What are clouds made of?”
He was lying on a grassy hill in a forest, watching clouds float by through the canopy. He turned to see a line of children all lying next to him. And another version of him.
The kids had vastly different hair colors and facial features, some of which instantly reminded him of Rosa, Haley, Demi. The oldest was maybe nine, the youngest more like three. They all stared at the other version of him with big, cute, curious eyes, like he was about to impart some brilliant piece of wisdom.
“Uh, water. It evaporates and…” Druid-dream Mason made a floating gesture with a hand. “You know. Goes up there, and blows around.”
“But how? And what’s wind, anyway?”
He wasn’t surprised that the girl talking had thick black hair. Her eyes were squinted, like she was always somewhere between curious and pissed off. Druid-dream Mason opened his mouth to answer, then shook his head and started tickling her, grabbing at other kids and pulling them into a pile for the same treatment.
The voices of happy little children made a kind of chorus as they all attacked. Mason watched himself like a ghost.
The dream-version of him smiled and laughed without a care in the world. It was still him—his body transformed from the game, his eyes a bright green. But somehow he could wrestle with children and not look afraid he’d crush them. Or that demons might come swooping out of the sky.
“Lunch-time! And I know you can hear me so don’t try to say you didn’t!”
Haley’s voice drifted on the wind. Mason stood and walked towards it inhaling smoke and cooking meat. He closed his eyes, then crested the hill to find connected log cabins. They looked made by crafters, not the system. A half dozen beautiful huts were nestled amongst the trees, next to a waterfall he remembered…
He was in his forest, not far from Nassau. The place he’d first taken Becky those months before. The huge tree city loomed in the distance, the Great Tree larger than reality, lower city stretching out in layers beyond the initial wall. It looked clean and orderly. Thriving.
A little boy with green eyes came racing from the forest like a bat out of hell. He screamed and launched himself, jumping at least fifteen feet straight at dream-Mason’s back.
He spun and caught the boy with an angled expression, like they both knew he’d caught him doing something naughty.
“Don’t roar when you attack. And you know the rules.”
The boy slumped in defeat, dangling limply from his father’s hands.
“No hunting around the others. But…Streak said…”
The animal snarled in betrayal from the trees. Mason whistled until the wolf came out with a few of his latest pups in pursuit, head lowered, dragging his paws in (fake) guilt.
“Uh huh. Well, you’re here now. If you’re very good you can come on up and eat lunch with us, but I don’t want you...”
The giant wolf dropped his fake guilt and raced up the hill, bolting straight for the cabins and picnic tables with his brood on his tail. The children chased after the puppies in delight.
Dream-Mason shook his head and tossed his son on his back as he followed, giving the kid elbows and thrashing him around hard enough someone watching might have called child services. The boy laughed like it was the best thing ever.
“Seriously, stop roaring when you ambush. You’re trying for surprise. You’re never gonna catch anything like that.”
“But…it just feels right, Dad. Like boom! I’m here! Get scared!”
Dream-Mason sighed. Ghost-Mason walked along silently beside them.
**
The huge family ate in a state of ordered chaos. Mason paced around the tables in his invisible, ghost form, feeling some water in his eyes as he saw his girls. Rosa and Lexi dished out portions to the younger kids—the former with stern precision, the latter with winks and silly faces.
Becky sat at the kid’s table, looking like the cool Aunt until Mason realized her stomach was swollen with pregnancy. Haley wandered around checking on everyone like she was playing hostess, especially the dream version of him.
About the same moment he was wondering about Naya and Ayet, one of the cabins opened. The elven women came out with two tiny children, a girl and boy with pointy ears. Both looked recently-awake and struggling to walk.
Mason stood and watched them, unable to fight the smile. They’d done it. They’d lifted the curse. Naya had succeeded where her father had failed.
The other women welcomed them and helped set them up at a special table at the edge of the others with different food. Apparently they’d never solved that problem.
Dream-Mason sat in the middle of it all, eating quietly, watching everything, saying nothing. His women stole glances and exchanged smiles with him. He made faces at his children. He flicked peas at them. For all the world, he seemed utterly without concern.
The vision shifted.
For a moment, Mason was afraid of what he’d find. But he was on the Nexus now, dream-Mason walking the platforms, greeting people and trying to stop them from bowing or freaking out like he was a celebrity.
He found Carl. The man looked a few years older but no less healthy. The men embraced like old friends, walking the upper city together. Carl pointed at new buildings. Mason walked beside them, gawking at all the changes and people and…humanoids.
Orcs, goblins and elves moved around freely and without much attention. Fashion was as wild as you’d expect. Some people dressed like orcs. Some orcs dressed like elves. And there was just about everything in between.
Carl took them down to Billy and Hank’s old restaurant. And pretty soon it was clear they were holding some kind of birthday celebration. The place was filled with drunk, happy players who all howled as Mason came in.
He calmed them down, then made the world’s shortest speech, and they all drank and ate and laughed. It was absolutely perfect.
The vision shifted again. It was night now, the room dark, a fire crackling in the corner of one of the log cabins. Mason was in a huge bed with at least half of his women, bodies intertwined as he pulled them all close and took them one by one.
It was strange watching a different version of yourself with the women you loved. He wandered off, staring out in the night, wondering what the hell this even was. The darkness went deeper, and deeper, and he found he was glad when the vision finally ended.
**
White clouds drifted overhead.
For a moment Mason was afraid he was dead—that he’d been put in some kind of purgatory where he’d be shown the life he might have had forever. Over and over. Would that be worse than suffering? He wasn’t sure, but he trusted roboGod to figure out the worst possible way to destroy a man.
“Mason? Please wake up. We won, sugar. You did it, baby.” Becky’s voice turned away. “There’s somethin’ wrong. I don’t know! Get fuckin’ Alex, or Demi. Somebody.”
Pain was usually a sign of reality. Mason’s body told him to stop screwing around, sending a dozen competing sources of agony. His hands drifted to his waist, which seemed the worst. Apparently his thorn belt had dug so deep it was basically gone, blood still dripping down his thighs.
“I’m alright.”
Was he? He had no idea. But it seemed the right thing to say. Also it proved his mouth worked. He sat up with a groan, and looked around a broken battlefield of undead corpses.
There was a giant crater where Yalor’s champion used to be, surrounded completely by charred chunks of undead horror and earth bleached to a barren white. Mason couldn’t help but give that a grin.
On a hill near the southern wall, he saw a giant cluster of players, elves, and centaur. It looked like they’d made some kind of last stand, everything around them scorched and exploded. Was that Nighteyes? The shaman looked sort of surprised and confused, for once, so that was nice.
“The hell happened? I mean I sort of know. But let’s just pretend I don’t.”
He glanced over at Becky. She was frozen mid-run towards him. He slumped and prayed there wasn’t some new divine interference or nonsense. That he wasn’t about to be surrounded by a dozen shit-eating gods.
[Personal score reward: calculated. Please wait.]
[Personal score reward: Singular. You were instrumental in mankind’s victory, exceeding the highest predicted personal score. Congratulations. Legacy power rewarded. Divine power rewarded.]
[Legacy power: The Hunter’s Blood. Small chance for any descendant to be born with increased physical statistics, unnaturally long life/health, and random, weak (but upgradeable) versions of your natural powers.]
[Divine power: Progenitor of the Prime. The game is over. The prime is yours. Sliding toggle. Scales from ‘Mortal’ mode to ‘Progenitor’ mode. In minimum mortal mode, vastly reduced stats and abilities to approximate human functioning. In full Progenitor mode, gain a variety of world-modifying abilities, previously restricted to sub-systems. Immediate trigger of full Progenitor mode if seriously harmed.]
Mason read the powers a few times and ran a hand through his hair. His heart was moving faster now as he started to realize. Or maybe started to accept.
RoboGod had given him the game world. Or some version of it. It had sent him straight back and left it all as it was. It was what he wanted, or maybe hoped for. He tried not to be angry at himself for that. For making the alien pull the trigger.
But he told himself he’d been ready if it was something else. And if he truly got what he wanted, he would have brought back all the ‘unique copies’ who’d died uselessly. That hadn’t been one of the options.
[Game: over. System attention: removed. All events will now be handled by the automated sub-systems, highly influenced by human behavior. The future is variable. Good luck.]
Becky (and the world) started moving again. She came running with her wide, beautiful smile, green eyes shining with tears. She dropped down and slammed into Mason’s chest, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Hi country girl.”
She maybe mumbled something about ‘city boy’ through a broken laugh/sob. Mason just smiled and held her. Some of the others were coming closer, staring at everything with exhausted, but wary eyes—like at any moment the demon army might come swirling back to life.
Mason had taught them well.
The elven high mage came with a group of his people. Mason stood to greet him. The elf held out his hands to show…a black lump.
“Something happened to the World Stone,” he said, voice subdued, pale face more fragile looking than usual. “We saw an explosion. The seed…” he shrugged as if he had no idea. “I think it…stopped it. I don’t know how. Are my people doomed?”
Well, fuck. Apparently roboGod hadn’t just ‘magically’ stopped Blake from doing whatever he’d done. He used the seed. There are rules, he thought, not bitterly. Actions had consequences. He was just grateful they’d had it, and that the consequences weren’t a scorched continent, which seemed entirely possible.
He shook his head, not sure what to say to the elven leader. He thought of his dream—of seeing Naya and Ayet with children. It was real. Possible. Maybe Gaia and Cerebus had already lifted the curse.
Out of whim more than anything he pulled up his profile and tried using his new divine power, just to read whatever the ‘options’ were they’d talked about. He slid the scale to the top.
The world went bright green, and slowed to a crawl. And he saw everything.
Little text bubbles surrounded everyone. He saw his people’s powers, titles, and relative strength. Their affiliations and items and affinities. Was it some kind of insanely powerful identification power? It was the same with the elves.
But he saw mana floating on the wind, too. Like there was a whole new world he just couldn’t see before. He reached out a hand, realizing he could use it, or destroy it…maybe even create more…
He slid the power’s scale back down, and looked at a collection of startled, awed, confused, and/or terrified faces. Even Becky had stepped back to stare. Apparently it had produced some kind of external effect…
“You’re…” the arch-mage trailed off and swallowed.
Mason shrugged, smiling because he’d literally seen the curse title on the elves. And maybe could have switched it on or off…
Power previously reserved for sub-systems. He read the text and almost laughed. Had they literally given him god-like powers?
“I think you’re gonna be fine,” he said eventually, forcing Becky back to his side, grinning at his people. “We’re all gonna be fine. Take your people inside and rest. We’ll talk later. You’ve certainly earned it.”
The elven wizard still looked overwhelmed, but touched his forehead as the women sometimes did, in a gesture Mason now knew was meant as respect. He returned it, and walked Becky towards the clump of people on the hill.
Out of curiosity, he slid his new power’s scale down to ‘mortal man’. His feet instantly felt like they’d gained about fifty pounds. A breeze touched his face and felt…actually cool, and didn’t carry a hundred different scents. He took a breath and felt his lungs expand like they actually needed it. He closed his eyes, and shivered at the pleasure of warm sun on his sensitive skin.
“You sure yer alright? What the hell even happened back there? You were like…glowin’. Like a fuckin’ Christmas tree.”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t stop grinning. “Never better.”
All he wanted in that moment was to feel a woman with skin that wasn’t made to stop bullets. He pulled her in and kissed her, groaning at the softness and warmth like he was a damn virgin again.
Yeah. He was going to enjoy whatever time he’d just gained.
“What’d you get?” he asked as he realized and pulled back. “For winning the game, I mean. Everyone must have got something.”
Becky sighed and licked her lips, eyes flickering open.
“Stop teasin’ me. Somethin’ about aging at half speed. Bunch of boosts.” She winked. “We’re here to stay, huh? Guess this world ain’t so bad. When it’s not full of demons.”
“We’re done with that. I think. We’ll have to find other ways to occupy ourselves.”
He grinned and pulled her in again, forgetting the world in her arms until he got a breath full of Demi’s scent. She walked up holding her stomach, wandering through the battlefield like nothing in the world scared her. She’d come a long ways.
“You’d make out with a pregnant woman’s husband, right in front of her?”
Becky glanced around.
“Yeah.”
Demi did the very-pregnant-woman version of a charging hug. Mason made room for her in his arms, and the three of them pressed their foreheads together.
“Sorry about the mana thing,” Demi whispered. “I thought it would…but then I was worried you couldn’t…that maybe I’d made the wrong decision, that I’d…”
“I’m fine. But it did suck. A lot.”
“Not as much as Demi’s gonna. That naughty, naughty girl.”
Becky had apparently been turned on. She groped at his crotch like they weren’t surrounded by a few thousand people. Fortunately, nobody was paying much attention. Pockets of players, elves, and orcs were starting cheers and celebrations all over the place, from the walls down the field and up that hill.
Mason smiled and watched them, holding his girls. About the same moment he wished Haley was there she literally warped beside him. Her hair was uncharacteristically messy, her face sweaty, her eyes red. He could only imagine the stress and chaos she’d been trying to manage.
“Considered safe.” She beamed, pretending she was fine. “Guess that means we win?”
Mason tried not to squeeze the life out of her with his ‘mortal’ but still considerable strength. With Haley in his arms, half his family beside him, and watching the scenes of relief and joy, his mind turned to Blake. And another cold thing dropped into his gut.
His brother was gone. The knowledge was instant.
With it came the understanding that roboGod had done more than one of its ‘options’. That he’d made a new ‘earth’, and given the people who wanted it, or needed it, the option to go. He suspected a lot of the easterners would be gone when they checked on the holy city. But he doubted almost anyone from the west would be.
“Where’s Lodie? Rosa? Is everyone in the city, safe?”
He was suddenly desperate to be sure. Haley nodded, eyes wet with happiness and relief.
“Everyone’s fine. Mostly fine. Lodie’s on the wall with a machine gun that kinda blew up. She’s OK. And she made some kind of undead goblin friend. Says he’s a ‘best green genius’.”
Mason tried not to worry about that, too overwhelmed by it all. He knew why his brother had gone—the same reason a lot of the easterners would. Some things in life you just couldn’t face, or come back from. Like killing your friends and neighbors, or trying to blow up the world. But he wished they’d had a chance to say goodbye.
He made a pact with himself to take care of Blake’s orc wife and children. Then he looked back at his girls and sighed.
“I’m going to have to be nicer to orcs and goblins and centaurs from now on, aren’t I?”
Haley nodded sagely, stuck to him like glue. They kept walking towards the hill, losing some of their joy when they passed corpses of fallen players.
“The civilians are coming to get them,” Haley said. “They’ll take care of the wounded. We’ll make a group funeral once everyone’s identified. You’ll have to say a few words.”
He was already thinking about some of the words, trying not to hate roboGod for leaving them dead. They deserved the right praise. The proper thanks from the living. They’d been so God damn close to the end of the game.
“We’ll make it an event. I don’t just want some sad little thing. We’ll bury them right at the walls, and make monuments. So everyone will know where they fought. How they held the lower city when they could have run. I want it to last.”
Haley gave him a strange smile, eyes far away.
“You would have hated that sort of thing once.”
Would he have? Probably. But the players who’d fought and died were heroes. And so were the living ones. He was their king, and it was up to him to honor them. But they had time now. All the time in the world.
“Go on, girls. Just go back to Nassau. I’ll talk to our friends over there. The players. And help with the bodies. I’ll be awhile. I’ll see you after.”
The women complained but understood, and he soon ushered them off. He watched them go with a few deep breaths, smiling when each looked back.
He thought about his druid dream. Thinking maybe that could be him one day. Safe and happy. A father and husband and not a weapon of war.
With just the thought, he felt the sword in his soul heating, if only a little. With enough peaceful days, maybe, he could melt it down, and turn it into a plowshare. Prove Chinua wrong. It was worth a shot.
And with immortality, he had a whole lot of days to try.