Chapter 27 - Steps We Can’t Take Back

  There was a pause, several tense heartbeats where I wasn’t sure if the others would follow. Then, finally, the crackle of dried blood beneath their boots told me they had. I breathed a little sigh of relief.

  I took the lead down the staircase, half-listening to them murmur as I dove into the game menus. There was a staggering amount of information buried in there. I’d been a damn fool to ignore it for so long.

  With flicks of thought, I began customising my HUD. It had always been a mess—blocking my vision at the worst times and showing me fuck-all when I actually needed it. I dragged the inventory to the bottom, stacked my skills above it, and pinned the party list to the left. Then I snapped the minimap down to the size of a playing card and tucked it into the top-right corner.

  Perfect. Just how I used to set up my interface in RPGs. This truly was an elegant system.

  I staggered mid-step, bracing a hand against the hieroglyph-carved wall.

  I’d never played an RPG in my life.

  And since when did I think in words like perfect and elegant?

  Still, my mental finger kept going—optimising, reorganising, instinctively adding functions I shouldn’t have known existed.

  A little box in the top right showed a live list of notifications. The most recent were at the bottom of the list.

  Soul Absorbed

  Skill Up: Resistance - Cognitive Dissonance 4 -> 5

  Skill Up: Resistance - Cognitive Dissonance 5 -> 7

  I expanded the box, speed scrolling through the list like I was scanning through the unread list of my old email.

  There were literally hundreds of the bloody things. Most were trivial, while others proved more interesting.

  Skill Up: Running 5 -> 6

  Skill Up: Breathing 6 -> 7

  Skill Up: Jump 3 -> 4

  Skill Up: Shoelace Tying 2 -> 3

  With a quick toggle, I found that I could efficiently filter them to just show the good stuff.

  Skill Up: Axes 2 -> 4

  Skill Up: Solder Touch 1 -> 2

  Skill Up: BERSERK 6 -> 7

  There was a little ping and a notification appeared at the bottom of the list.

  Skill Up: Resistance - Cognitive Dissonance 7 -> 8

  The weight on my mind suddenly eased. It was a bizarre sensation, similar to my implant dosing me, but somehow deeper, more profound.

  I'd had this mate in my early twenties called Chris, a sparky like me.

  By some weird twist of fate, we ended up on the same projects for nearly a year. Site after site, I’d show up, and there he’d be. We’d knock off, hit the pub, and talk shit for hours. Neither of us had families. Nowhere else to be.

  He thought it was hilarious that I could only order 0.00% beers, while he knocked back stouts and sours up to 7.5%. Sometimes he’d decant the good stuff into water bottles so I could smuggle it home and drink a cold one in secret.

  Good bloke.

  I’d never touched anything stronger than alcohol—wasn’t even permitted that for special occasions. But Chris? His implant would dose him automatically. Amphetamines when his work rate dropped, MDMA if he felt low. Reckons he even got LSD once after a car crash.

  He bloody loved the feeling. His mind shifting, thought patterns changing.

  Back then, I’d found it fascinating.

  Felt jealous, in truth.

  But now that it was happening to me, I found it unnerving and invasive.

  I couldn’t trust my own mind.

  And I bloody hated that.

  Ariel was at my shoulder, staring at the carvings in the stone before me. She traced the lines of the dusty pictograms with a finger, shadows dancing in the torchlight.

  “What is it Allan?”

  I opened my mouth to reply, to say I hadn’t seen shit, that I might be losing my bloody mind. Only, I did notice something. One of the snakes carved into the stone, located at roughly chest height had a hole drilled through its open mouth. I looked up and down the stairs, noticing similar snakes. Similar holes.

  A symbol carved into the stone of the step a few down from me caught my eye. The same snake.

  Instincts that I knew weren’t my own kicked in. But I didn’t really need them to know it was a trap.

  I nodded to Ariel and wriggled a finger into the mouth of the stone snake on the wall. Then pointed at the stair.

  “How much you want to bet, that when we step on that snake, something shoots outa here?”

  A barely audible ping came as a notification appeared in the list. I’d gained a level in trap detection.

  Ariel frowned, her eyes flashing. I wondered if I had noticed something that her friends back on Earth had not.

  “Just so,” she muttered.

  We warned the others, speaking in hushed tones and picked our way down the stairs, carefully jumping the one with the snake pictogram and made it to the next chamber safely.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Tammy cracked another beer, her fourth, or fifth since arriving at the vault. The hiss of it opening slicing the silence.

  The chamber at the bottom of the spiral staircase was another square, its jade doorframe carved with scenes of brutal, blood-soaked battle. One look, and I knew this place was right up my alley. Inside, a group of Recycled shuffled about.

  Grunting, squeaking, occasionally jabbing at each other with copper-headed spears.

  The weapons were pathetic. The heads were lashed on with frayed, ragged rope, and at least half had already fallen off, leaving them swinging little more than crooked sticks.

  I summoned Ebonrage, motioning to the others to ready weapons. We’d use one of the formations Ariel had taught us.

  “Hot damn, just wait a minute,” whisper-shouted Tammy. The more she drank, the less the tall woman seemed able to control her volume.

  I shushed her, pushing her back up the stairs so the creatures wouldn’t hear us.

  “Bro, are you seeing this?” She draped an arm over Tylers shoulders. “No chance I’m killing them. No chance.” She burped, long and loud, it echoed off the stone like a beer-fuelled gong. “I always loved the purple one.”

  A squeal from the room below let me know that they had heard the burp. They knew we were coming. We had moments.

  I moved to head them off.

  “Wait, listen, listen.” Shout-whispered Tammy and I stopped.

  A semi-whispered conversation ensued, in which I discovered that the brightly coloured, fuzzy creatures with geometric shape antennas had an uncanny resemblance to the characters of a kids TV show.

  I thought she was going to give us an edge. That she knew something that would help us fight them.

  Should have known better.

  She was starting to piss me off.

  “This isn’t a damn TV show, and those aren’t characters from your childhood.” I growled. “They are god damned, lobotomised aliens, programmed with an unquenchable urge for our blood.” I had shouted the last word as my temper boiled over.

  I could hear them scurrying towards the stairs and made a decision. I didn’t want to fight them in these cramped quarters. Didn’t want to get pushed up to that snake stair and set off the trap.

  Nah, enough was enough.

  “FUCK THIS,” I shouted.

  I marched down those last few stairs, Ebonrage held loosely in one hand. As I stepped into the room, the creatures paused, then fanned out before me.

  They squealed their battlecry.

  I clicked Predator. Just another skill. What had I been so scared of?

  The music started, and I grinned in anticipation.

  I hit them like an avalanche—an indiscriminate force of destruction—chopping them to bits to the soundtrack of screaming guitar, thundering drums and raw fury. Leaf shaped copper spearheads, tarnished with verdigris were thrust at me, but I slipped past them, so quick that they might as well have been in slow motion. My senses in hyperdrive, superhuman in their intensity.

  Alien blood sparkled like glitter in arterial geysers, creating rainbows in the flickering torchlight.

  Text blazed across my HUD as my combat passive Complete Circuit activated.

  It counted the kills in a blood dripping font, the number rising with each kill until it reached 13, providing a 130% boost to my physical stats.

  I felt un-fucking-stoppable.

  The last of the creatures was backed up against the wall, it was level 5—one higher than the rest.

  Apparently that one level gave enough brainpower to know fear.

  It had dropped its spear, and scrabbled at the wall, as though trying to climb the pictograms. It’s fuzzy, mit-like hands proved insufficient to the task.

  Tinky-Blinky

  Level 5 Tunnel-Tubber

  The name floated in pastel bubble text. Christ.

  I showed it the final mercy.

  A fanfare heralded its death, the walls echoing with the WARGAMES! Theme song.

  I deactivated Predator, expecting a backlash but felt nothing as I scrolled through my notifications. Guess that cognitive dissonance resistance was paying dividends. Fucking dividends? I shouldn’t even know that word.

  Digital confetti sprayed as I levelled up. New strength coursed through me and that incredible pleasure curled my toes. Now that’s an addiction I could get around!

  “Congratulations!” Squealed the sugary voice of Priorita. “Western Trial Chamber 1 of 5 has been cleared!”

  An achievement appeared in my HUD feed, and I could almost taste Priorita’s giddy excitement as she read it.

  One Man Murder Machine

  You have cleared a Wargame vault trial chamber, without the aid of your allies. You know we scale the difficulty of these places to your level, and how many team members are present? Seriously, there were over a dozen enemies in that room and you just waltzed on in and slaughtered them—you didn’t even take damage! Wow. We didn’t actually have a reward organised for this, but good behaviour should always be encouraged.

  Give us a moment!

  There was some whispering, giggles and a snort or two.

  OK! We have the perfect ability for you.

  Looting all those bodies would take ages, and be super boring. So use this new ability instead, and go kill some more!

  Ability Gained: Auto-Loot (Level 1)

  I grinned, this ability was a staple of my RPG days—or Seth’s I supposed. His memories had bled into mine so seamlessly that I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began.

  I dragged the ability to my new hot bar and clicked it.

  The roomful of corpses turned to dust and a list of items appeared as a list in my HUD. It was mostly junk, some basic leather armour that I would share around, a dozen or so of the copper spearheads, and the weird, shaped antenna things that had once adorned the creatures’ heads.

  They once again had the modifier edible beside them.

  Gross.

  I didn’t tell Tammy.

  There were two items of note, the first was an Epic Jade Mask Fragment (One of Five) and the second, an Uncommon combat vest, covered in a multitude of pockets. It boosted my strength and endurance by 3 points each and also increased my inventory by 6 slots, one full row.

  It was a bloody relief, getting that vest.

  I considered equipping it immediately, judging by the slots available in the armour menu it could be worn over a shirt, and under a cloak. After a moment’s thought, I ripped the ragged, bloodstained remnants of my shirt free. Damn thing itched like there were alien lice living in it.

  I almost equipped the vest, until I caught a view of my chest.

  I’d always been a fit bloke—active job, decent genetics, and the two hours a week at the gym the UE allocated kept me in solid shape. But now? I was bloody jacked. Pecs like carved stone, abs that’d make a Greek sculptor touch himself, and arms straight out of a Hercules reboot.

  I could hear Priorita breathing, and quickly covered up.

  She giggled.

  My team had followed me into the room, and now stared at me.

  “Christ, lad. Are you working through something then?” Asked Paddy. “Need to talk about it?” He laughed, but I knew he was nervous.

  Tyler shared a look with his sister. “Shieeet, mad as a raccoon in a trash bag.”

  “Yuup,” she replied.

  “Right,” I said, clearing my throat. “You all saw the message. We get a bonus for how quickly we finish this Vault. So we move carefully, but take out opportunities when we’re offered them. I’m pretty sure there are clues about what we will face, you all saw the door frame, right?” I caught each of their eyes in turn. “Speak up if you notice anything.”

  Tammy let out a loud burp, storing an empty can and cracking a fresh one.

  “And you,” I pointed a finger at the tall, sandy haired woman. “If you keep sinking piss at that rate, you’re going to put us all in danger. Pull your fucking head in, alright?”

  She locked eyes with me, raised the fresh can to her lips and chugged it. Then pressed the empty can to her forehead, crumpling it and then tossed it at my feet.

  Another appeared in her hand and she cracked it as she approached. “Don’t much care for your tone, pal.” She walked right up until her face was inches from my own. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her breath smelled of cheap lager.

  “Sis, let it go.” Tyler had come up behind his twin and put a hand on her shoulder.

  She shrugged it free. “Don’t fucking touch me, bro.” She half turned to him. “You gonna let him talk to me like this?”

  The big man’s eyes flickered to mine. I could see his indecision. “Reckon we back up a step or two, sis. Take a breather right? Plenty of Aliens to fight without starting it with our own.”

  Tammy snarled pushing her brother away. “Fuckin’ pussy. C’mon. We’ll clear another wing, don’t need no help.”

  She stormed up the stairs. Spilling beer as she went.

  I let her go.

  A moment of precognition, and in a flash I was after her up the stairs.

  “Tammy!” I shouted. “The step—don’t forget to jump the fucking st—”

  There was a click, clearly audible with my enhanced senses.

  A heartbeat later a rod of gleaming metal shot from the open mouth of one of the snakes. I caught it in my black veined hand, an inch from my chest. Even with all my strength, it slipped in my grip—pierced my armour—cut into me. I wrenched it from my flesh, stepped back and let it go. The rod rammed into the stone wall with enough force to bury it inches into stone.

  “SIS!” Called Tyler from behind.

  “Fuck, fuck, FUCK” I growled, vaulting the trap and racing up the tight spiral.

  I found Tammy just around the bend.

  Pinned through the chest like a bug to a board.

  Her icon blinked, then faded from my HUD.

  I just stood there, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.

  Tyler let out a cry like an animal. He pushed past me, trying in vain to pull the spear from her flesh.

  It broke my fucking heart.