Night clenches at his head in agony. Mouth open in a soundless scream as the two flickering souls/personalities/”true selves” – I never really did figure out what they were- bleed around the edges and start to melt together. Two separate somethings being torn apart to build a new one, but who knows what form that new image will take, what parts will remain, or if Night will remain at all.

A painful shudder works its way down his back and he gasps, the shadows at his feet writhe in their own misery. The designer sunglasses that had been slipping down his nose finally fall, shattering loudly on the cave floor.

Through the pain Night’s eyes look up to meet mine. For once it feels like he’s actually looking at me, not my player profile, whatever visions only he can see, or the acolyte named Nova who I have become, but me.

‘He has blue eyes,’ I think as my brain scrambles to make sense, to find an answer to a problem I can’t understand. Uselessly all my thoughts can latch onto are Night’s eyes. ‘They are a pretty blue’, nothing like the fluorescent fake blue of the system but a blue of a dark stormy morning. There’s probably a poem in there somewhere if I reached hard enough, but words and the arts were never my strong suit.

Our gazes hold, a moment stretched into a lifetime, a thousand words that could be said, a million choices, a moment that could change everything.

“Run,” he gasps, choking on his breaths, yet tears never fall from his eyes, and there is no regret on his face even as he faces his end, only a burning will.

I don’t know what to say, “I didn’t know” or “You are getting what you deserve murderer”. None of them feel like the right thing, but I’m not one to ponder my words, to calculate and choose based on the best outcomes, so the words that spill from my lips are honest, if tinted with too many emotions for me to name, but hearts never do make sense, and I make a habit of following mine to the bitter end.

“I’m sorry,” and it's for everything and nothing. He does deserve this, but even for a murderer it is a cruel way to go. I did not mean to do it, but I would not undo it all the same, “I wish we could been on the same side too.” It’s a stupid wish, a felting moment of whimsy and impossibility.

Night almost manages to smile at me, before he doubles over in pain once more.

There’s nothing else here for either of us, and I can see the timer on my shield continue to tick down. I don’t have time to feel bad for myself, so I settle for listening to the advice Night might be spending his last breath on and I run.

“What the fuck was that!?” I ask sending a glare towards the air where the systems had been floating. They are noticeably absent now as I bolt through the cavern.

There’s notably far few people lingering about the room, most of them lying on the red stained ground or having successfully fled down one of the dozens of branching tunnels that line the walls. “You said I was healing him, but it really looked like you just made me a murderer!”

The white system makes no sound as it blinks to life next to me, [If he is strong enough, he will survive.]

A blue text box dings to life over the message, [Sheild of Peace- 00:29]

‘Fuck I’m running out of time,’ and clearly the white text messages weren’t to be trusted either. I’m on my own until I find Zeke.

[We have no doubt he will be a worthy ally should he manage to harness his gifts. Deathwalkers are rare.]

And I’m so done with this shit. With the half-truths and weird terms, and just general insanity of this place, “you know fuck you, I never should have listened to you in the first place. I’ve got no reason to trust you so leave me alone—"

[Don’t you want to know where your brother is?]

I stumble to stop nearly tripping on a puddle of blood as I spin to face the glowing white system, “You… you know where Zeke is?”

[We know where your brother is]

It confirms and I reach up as if to grab the floating code but my hands pass harmlessly through it, I snarl instead and tighten my fists tight enough to feel blood well up between my fingers, “you better fucking tell me where he is then.”

[And we will tell you in exchange for your help].

“God damn it—!” I want to punch something, mostly this stupid floating box of pixels, but if it's telling the truth and it knows where Zeke is- “Sure whatever you want, going to make me heal anyone else too? Sure whatever the hell you want. But you better not fucking touch my brother or I will find a way to kill you.”

The white box doesn’t react to my very real threat, for if Zeke is gone and that thought is too horrible to even ponder for more than a moment- then I will do everything in my power to spend my life repaying that tragedy.

It doesn’t say anything for a moment and I wonder if I’ve been ghosted by a gloried floating text message, when it finally blinks back to life, [Take what you can, the tutorial is even crueler than this].

Not the answer I thought it would give me from my threat, but I can threaten the digital box later when I’m not running or my life.

Besides the tunnels of various sizes littering the cave walls, there are also falling apart crates and shelves full of random household goods and rusted weapons. Everything looks like it was stolen from a vague historical fantasy set though, with broken lanterns, torn cloaks, and rusted pieces of metal armor. Most of it is junk, but deciding that just carrying a knife would be unwise I fish a mostly straight spear out of a crumbling rack and grab a large backpack that I hope is filled with useful materials instead of just more junk.

 I try to snag a sword but a blue system window blinks in front of me and warns that acolytes aren’t allowed to use swords. It’s a stupid fucking rule, but I drop it and pick up a heavy mace instead, if I can’t stab my opponents then I’ll settle for bashing their brains in. All of it together is fairly heavy, but any possible increase to my chances of survival I’m taking.

[We need to-] the white message statics before a bigger white window appears over top in bold, [HIDE.]

I don’t question it, if it can help me find Zeke then I’ll do a little jig with a pointed hat and goofy shoes if it wants. I meant it when I said I would do anything for my brother.

[Sheild of Peace- 00:20]

There’s a small tunnel ahead of me, more crawl space than a true tunnel, it would be uncomfortable, and I have no guarantee it actually goes anywhere, but I don’t have enough time to make it to one of the more traveled paths.

I don’t even have enough time to make it inside because I can hear something quickly approaching.

‘Can’t these people just leave me alone for like 10 seconds!’ and I shove myself into a space between the wall and collapsing shelf, just as a frantic man with a slipping toupee runs by.

The middle-aged man trips over a suit of rusted armor, tumbling to the ground with a loud clatter. He looks up at me helplessly as a girl, no older than 16, with a bright shock of green hair skips by me, great sword scratching a groove into the stone behind her as she drags it along. Cat-like ears twitch on the top of her head, a lion’s tail swinging behind her happily. She’s wearing a school uniform, that’s been stained by a dark red liquid and there’s a notable glowing crimson gleam in her eyes.

“Told you that running wouldn’t help~” she coos, before crouching down in front of the fear-struck man.

“Please! Please!” the man begs, holding his suitcase in front of him as a makeshift shield or offering, “I’ll do anything! Just don’t-,”

“Not interested,” the girl sighs, and the shadow at her feet lunges for the man, he screams as the dark form twists up his leg, panic becoming pain as claw marks appear across his flesh where the shadow beast has been.

‘Not another one!’ I think, cursing my own terrible luck, I just had to run into another weird player killer. She’s not exactly the same as Night, but I can tell from getting a closer look at her, there are two flickering images. Both of the images are rather dim, and it's hard to tell one from the other, the two of them already starting to merge into one. Whatever the hell is wrong with her shadow and how it seems to be alive, is a completely separate issue it seems. Because I can see something actually alive in it, or at least alive enough that my weird vision lets me see an outline of a weird, mutated lion-like creature.

[You can—] I don’t even bother reading the rest of the message, already knowing it’s going to ask me to use Cleansing Touch on this crazy murderer too, but I have a strong feeling that this girl is not just going to let me do that.

‘Well fuck it, I’ve already killed one murderer, what’s another for the road?’