A Filthy Alleyway, East Residential District, Meteo City

Winfrey

Eyeing the dark, open hole leading deep below ground with trepidation, I shudder involuntarily, not from the stale smell of stagnant water chased by the faint odour of faecal matter and rotten cheese - yeah that's definitely going to follow me back into reality for the next couple days - but from something rather more reprehensible, "There better not be any fucking rats down there. Or whatever those big ones from Farmer's Folly were called."

"It's a sewer system of a city. There's almost certainly going to be some manner of rodent or pest down there," Angelus dismisses my concerns out of hand.

"Aren't you supposed to be supportive of your allies?" I grumble, fumbling with my oil lantern, "Fuck this thing is fiddly."

"If you desire my 'support', perhaps you could leave the lantern to me instead?" Angelus smirks, "It's not as hard as you're making it look."

"Y-yeah, I...know...got it!"

Victorious, I raise the flickering lantern aloft like the Olympic Torch, to Angelus' amusement. Eh, screw you, at least I'm better at this than Sherry is and between us, she's the smoker. Not like she's got an excuse since she's in the Capsule Engineering course.

"D'you think we should be worried about like, a methane explosion? I'm not entirely sure how safe this flame is," I grimace at the archaic construction.

"We should be fine," Angelus nods sagely, "Unless we run up against a dense pocket of it, but if it's that thick we should see it before we walk into it. Methane is highly flammable - and volatile in enclosed spaces like this sewer supposedly will be - but not as much as you seem to be expecting since the air should be heavier with moisture from rain run-off and steam."

I give him an odd look, "Why does it sound like you've researched this?"

"Because I have," he shrugs, "I had to write a chase scene through a metropolitan city's sewer system where the protagonists only had a broken oil lamp for my second book and ended up wondering the same thing you did."

"Oh, you a writer then?" I ask politely, attaching the lantern to my belt and squatting down at the lip of the sewer entrance.

"Published for 9 years now," Angelus says proudly, giving me a hand down onto the dark, slippery metal rungs hammered into the wall to serve as a ladder, "7 books, total..."

Getting in after me he grunts, "...Working on my eighth right now. Picked up AR looking for some new material to use."

As we descend down, the light fading out until only the soft, shaky glow of orange flame illuminates us, throwing dense shadows, his voice reverberates with an almost tinny quality, echoing up to the surface.

"From what we've been through so far, following Silver around seems like it'd be good for that," I comment, my own voice taking on a life of it's own as it travels farther away from me.

"Suppose so. If I'm honest, my First Step trial has done more for my writer's block than anything Silver's done," Angelus admits, and I finally reach the bottom, my boots clattering on the bevelled stone tile floor and sending a loud cymbal crash of sound down the dank tunnel, the ceiling of which is an uncomfortable inch above my head, making my scalp prickle from the thought of sewer water dripping on my head, "Gotta say, feeling what it's like to have your flesh and bone slowly burnt away was a....new one. To say the least. Haven't been that angry in a long time either."

"Local healer too angry to immolate," I joke, drawing my badly damaged Feardrinker Gladius. It should hopefully survive gutting a few unfortunate soulless husks. The shield's been bent to shit, however, so that's staying in my bags.

I mentally backpedal, realising the reference and feeling a disgusting sense of pride from a brain ghost image of my Uncle Eric. Ugh, barely gotten back to Florida and I'm already making old movie references. At least The Little Mermaid is actually good, even if Disney absolutely refuses to stop trying to remake their 'Classics' catalogue. The 2097 live action remake of Tarzan was just...the worst. Even putting aside the unintentional racism drama the Tarzan actor kicked off.

Sweet abs though. I want his workout routine.

"Hah, not quite," Angelus chuckles, hopping off the last rung and pulling a face, "My literary empire for a decent pair of shoes."

"Gotta live with the choices you made dude," I snigger, "Besides, you're...kinda wearing some?"

"They turned into footwraps when I equipped them," he complains, kicking his feet out, "I can feel the water seeping through the cloth already. Still, let's make this quick. Can you see any obvious trail to follow up ahead?"

I shake my head, "Nah. I'm not real big on Perception like Jade and Silver are. I can hear him bugging me to put points in it though."

"Likewise," Angelus sighs, "If, as he says, attributes are evaluated and expressed according to an unseen average for each Level, I can't help but wonder how our 'dump stats' are compensated for, because what we're given is definitely insufficient. I don't want to get to Level 40, only to find I can't lift a pencil because my Strength has been neglected in comparison to the stats my Class needs to function."

"Ask him about it when we meet back up later," I shrug, leading the way down the tunnel.

"I can already predict some of the answers he might give, namely, items," Angelus mutters, "I recall that Justicar had a few consumables that gave you a permanent bonus on level up. Wouldn't be surprised to see a similar system here, if I had to guess."

"Makes sense," I agree, pausing at a crossroads, a murky, swift-flowing river cuts across and divides our side from the opposite bank, "VA is more about equipment quality than anything else, so I don't really have much of a frame of reference. Plus, PvP flattens it so only bonus effects like increased damage to X skill or Y spell make a difference."

"Mm. I've played, but not for long. Not a fan of science fiction settings, and Valiant Advance didn't do a very good job of integrating magic into it's lore with consideration to tech," Angelus peers past me, "Try going right?"

"Was thinking left," I mention uncertainly, "But we can double back if necessary, so I guess it doesn't matter in the end."

"That sounds like a plan," Angelus concurs, "Do you mind if I ask a slightly personal question?"

Gingerly stepping over a clump of moss that's formed a line from the water's edge and up the wall, I turn back momentarily, "Sure, I guess. So long as I can ask one back."

"How well do you know Silver?" Angelus kind of leans back as he steps over the moss, like he's going under a limbo pole.

"Probably better than anyone else in the guild?" I estimate, "But, like, still not very well. I've not known him very long and I only got him to talk about himself a bit a few days back."

"I see," he muses, "I couldn't help but wonder if he was always so...inscrutable. I suppose would be the polite way of saying it."

"Long as I've known him? Which is like, not even a month, for the record?" I turn back around and keep on moving, "Yeah, pretty much. But it's more like...He doesn't wanna talk about his plans for the game. Ask about other things or game mechanics that are relevant right that second, and he suddenly won't shut up."

"That was the impression I got as well," Angelus observes, "I suppose it's comforting on some level to have a leader who knows what he's doing, but I can't help but feel a little at a loss for how to respond to some of the information he pulls out at times."

"I get it," I really do, "But like I told Jade, it's not that big of a deal, I don't think."

"Oh?" he voices his surprised confusion right when a droplet of what I hope to God is just water drips down the back of my neck and makes me flinch.

"Son of a bitch!" I jam my free hand back to my neck and grasp desperately at the trickling moisture, to no avail, "Sorry, um, yeah. It's like Silver says, he thinks this stuff is on a need-to-know basis and he'll explain it when he feels it's appropriate. With the wiki's worth of info he seems to have tucked away up there, it's probably best he doesn't talk our ears off for a solid month about everything he does know. That we're told basically everything we need, when we need it is fine by me. I'm not as impatient as Jade is - I don't need to know everything immediately."

Angelus doesn't respond for a while, leaving us to walk in silence. I'm not really noticing any discrepancies or obvious signs that what we're looking for passed this way either, but the tunnel just seems to keep going and going.

"I suppose I can understand why you'd feel that way," He eventually concedes, "But if I had to confess, I'd have to admit that I'm not wired the same way as you. Not quite, anyway. I trust his competence, just not his underlying motive, per see."

"That's fine, no judging from me," I assure him, just glad that I don't have to put up with a second Sherry causing drama, "Guess I'm just more trusting than most."

"In this age of paranoia and corporate bullshit, that in itself is somewhat commendable," Angelus remarks drily, "Having said that, if you're to be acting as Truthseekers' vice-leader, you'd probably do well to shave away some of the naivete, for all our sakes."

"That's if I stick around," I mutter breathlessly, my right ear pricking from the sounds of movement around the upcoming corner, "Sounds like we may have found one of our targets."

"Ladies and Tanks first," the healer states with a touch of irony.

I snort, "What a coincidence, I just so happen to be both."

Taking a long shallow breath, I ready my sword and inch closer to the corner, peeking my head out around the corner. At the end of this section of sewer, a shuffling crowd of emaciated, filthy Subjugated Citizens bump up against each other clawing at the dead end's wall with their fingers, a few dark bloody streaks faintly visible in the low light. They don't even seem to register the change in luminosity as I round the corner and approach. Counting the heads, I determine that there are seven of them, including a little boy no older than five bumping his head against the back of the older husks' legs, trying ineffectually to get through.

I feel a tug at my heartstrings from the sight. Frowning, I can't help but wonder if what Alex said about there being no way to save these people is true. Even if it's just a monster now, even if it's not strictly speaking real, killing a kid so pitiful doesn't really sit right with me. Looking back for some support from Angelus, he doesn't look any happier than I feel, if anything he looks like he did after he came back from his First Step, but more resigned.

"It's alright, Windy," Angelus whispers, "I'll do it if you can't."

Sighing, I shake my head, "No, it's alright. I can do it, just be ready to back me up."

He stares at me for a moment, dead in the eyes, before nodding, "Ready when you are."

Turning back around, they still don't register our presence in the slightest, desperately trying to get to...something. Whatever it is, I can't pick it out through their bodies. But I'm procrastinating. Come on, girl, let's get this over and done with. Like that time Uncle Eric hit a caribou.

Feeling it too difficult to run in here, with the slippery floor and the low ceiling, I instead lower my profile and take long, swift strides forward, sword ready to plunge into my first target, that zombie kid. The metal sinks with depressing ease into the small body's flesh, killing him with two swift stabs.

Then the crowd realises, at long last, that they're not alone here anymore, turning as one to face me, reaching out with ragged, bloody fingers towards me, one of the shorter ones, an old man with liverspots on his bald scalp, latches onto my foot and earns a kick in the face for the trouble.

The others aren't much more efficacious in their strategy, making it all too simple a matter to just keep stabbing away at whomsoever is in reach. I'm not like Silver, who can kill multiple of them in a single swing, so the suffering of both parties, mine mostly emotional, is prolonged. Like he said, however, his ability to swing that big sword of his would be dramatically hindered down here, leaving the dirty job of putting these poor soulless bodies down to us.

I'm not going to sleep very well tonight, I don't think.

When only two of them remain, I feel myself becoming progressively healthier, the minor aches and scrapes across my face washing away steadily, but not like the usual way when Angelus casts Minor Succor. Guess he got a new spell? Feels like...a health regen spell?

I don't think I really needed it, but I guess he just wanted to try it out. Either way, the last of the Subjugated Citizens dies without so much as a grunt or a whimper, all of them dying in eerie silence, like they don't even understand the situation that led to their demise, nor any indication that there's anything at all going on inside their heads.

 

 

Great. I guess.

After wiping the blood off my sword, I lean in with the lantern to try and understand just what it is they were doing, and note the glint of something shiny, a small black stone that looks like solidified oil leaking out from the seams of the brickwork, no bigger than my pinky finger. I get a strangely familiar vibe off it, that's...kinda hypnotic.

I want to...eat it?

No. Bad, don't. Very bad idea, don't eat the sewer rock.

Shaking my head and feeling a bit of clarity return, I reach out and with a good deal of my muscle strength, snap it off the wall and shove it in my inventory before I get any more strange notions in my head. I don't know what it is, but my gut instinct is saying...well, eat it, but my subconscious brain reminded me that cursed items are a thing that exist in this game, and if it's anything like that pickaxe, it's bad news for sure.

"Windy?" Angelus clears his throat, "Are you...alright? Do you need a moment?"

Oh, he probably thinks I'm shaken up by the...well, zombie murder. And I am, but...ugh, can't stop thinking about this fucking rock.

"N-no. Um, Angelus, what-what's your...Willpower like?" I ask, feeling it's a little dangerous to keep ahold of this thing, even in my inventory.

"20..." He admits, confused, "Why?"

"More than me, then," I gulp, reluctantly taking out the stone and tossing it over, "Hold onto this for me. Cursed item, don't eat it."

He frowns, not really understanding at first, but complies, "I...see. Hm. I definitely feel...something off about it. Definitely related to that demonic energy. Or whatever it was Silver called it."

"'Presence'," I correct, but agree, "We should probably get this off our hands ASAP."

"No arguments from me," Angelus nods seriously, "Pass me the lantern, I'll lead the way back. Too narrow to switch places without falling into the slurry."