7 – Finally, a reunion?
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"Marco! Are you okay?!" Amelia cried out to the unconscious Warlock, who had suddenly collapsed.

Marco sat down slowly, still shaken, looking at the smirking, sweaty guy kneeling in front of him.

Alan sneered. "If what that cute redhead said is true, and Shooting Stars are at the top of the world, I don't believe even for a second that it was you who made it possible!"

"What?" Marco grunted, standing up.

Amelia watched as he clenched his fists. “Marco…”

"I bet it was all thanks to Astrid's effort, and you were only here for the ride!” Alan continued. “I bet that she whipped your lazy bums daily until shaping you all into elite warriors!"

Grunts of discontent and promises of making him suffer were heard, but Marco shut them all up after making a hand gesture, smirking. 

"Do you know how we used to call you before meeting your stupid face? ‘Alan, the Ghost’. We joked about you being invisible, or that you had died and your name was nothing but a glitch on the Guild’s member list... So how could you know how we rose to the top if you've never been here?"

"To everyone gathered here!" Alan shouted, still too weak to stand up. "Your beloved Lord has told you all that I stole his paycheck, right? Do any of you have a 'pickpocket' ability? If so, use it and see how much you can get from me. Come on! Spoilers, I don't have it! Just think about it! How could I take money from him if I wasn’t even here?! You called it a paycheck, right?! That means that there's someone in charge of the guild's vault! How could I, a pathetic level 5, steal it then, huh?! Think for yourselves for at least one second, you morons!”

Alan observed the crowd, desperately searching for someone nodding or sharing whispers, someone who was finally reflecting on his words. But all the guild members had their lips sealed, and their gaze remained unapologetically cold.

"Even if that's true," Amelia spoke aloud, "that wouldn't justify that you snatched away Lord Marco's position as Co-Leader!"

"Yeah, even if you're the guild's founder, what makes you think you can come here and steal his rank after playing around somewhere else!"

"We don't like deserters, and even less so those that weren’t here during this guild's hard times!"

"Try to defend yourself from that, Ghost," Marco said, smirking.

They know, Alan thought, glancing at Amelia's mocking grin. All these people should know Marco is wrong, they just don't care. Alan gritted his teeth, glaring at the initiator of it all. 

"After what you saw inside my mind, do you still want to continue with this charade?"

"What I saw doesn't concern me." Marco shrugged. "As I see it, those images were nothing more than the fractured psyche of a shadow of a man."

"Wow," Alan said, raising his eyebrows. "I can now see that Astrid didn't hire you for your wits..."

Marco chuckled, raising a hand and engulfing himself in a black aura. "Major Dark"

An explosion shook the building. 

Something crashed through the ceiling at high speed, cracking the tiled floor. In front of them stood a black lion, which folded its white wings to let its rider get down. Alan first heard heeled boots stroll towards them. 

The moonlight entered through the breach in the ceiling and shone on a blonde girl wearing a blue formal military uniform. Her blue eyes looked like two orbs of dry ice.

Wait… is that…?

“A-Astrid…” Alan muttered as soon as he met her gaze. Seeing her familiar face was more than comforting  “Wow…” He chuckled, as he gradually lost his balance. You look damn good… he thought, before blacking out.

 

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It started as a group of shadows pursuing him, yelling unintelligible things at him. I can only hear their grunts, but I know they hate me.

Alan saw himself running through brick corridors lit by torches. The place reeked of blood and oil. Its layout, strangely similar to the Santa María’s engine area.

When he came to a dead end, he turned around to face them, but no matter what he tried, the black silhouettes in front of him were indiscernible. 

Then, a giant hand rescued him from the hellish labyrinth and held him aloft.

Alan could only distinguish a pair of enormous glacial blue eyes inspecting him as if he was an insect. “Don’t stare at me like that, you creep…”

He was put inside a glass bottle and got discarded, so that time itself would also forget all about him.

Sitting hopelessly while hugging his own legs for eternity fitted him. Written in cursive, a label on the bottle read: 'Forgotten.’

“It should say ‘unloved’ instead, but that’s okay too,” he said to himself. 

A girly giggle answered back soon after. “Unloved, huh? I could fix that…” It was a voice from inside the bottle, but Alan looked at his surroundings, finding nothing. “I’m here, silly, inside of you.”

He stared at the crystal wall behind him, and the reflection stared back, but it was not his. A girl with red skin and golden eyes was looking back at him. She giggled again, and reached out a hand, seemingly escaping from whatever mirror dimension she had been sealed in.

“What the hell?!” he cried, falling on his back, as she crawled towards him.

“Hell? That’s what I call home, handsome.” The girl grinned with black-painted lips that contrasted with her white, gleaming pointy teeth.

Once she sat on his crotch, her long, red hair moved on its own like a group of silky snakes, tying him up. 

Although captive, his fear quickly turned into arousal.

She’s clearly evil, but I wouldn’t mind getting eaten by her. Even her demonic horns look pretty…

“That’s the spirit…” she said in a soft, enticing voice, while grinding her hips against his. At her every movement, her stacked bosom, barely covered by a black leather bikini, wiggled as a way to mesmerize him, in the same way a cobra does with its prey. “Unlike HER, I’ll let you stare all you want. You’ll just have to pay the price…”

She leaned forward, seemingly looking for a kiss, but with a loud hiss, bit his neck instead. Blood sprouted like a fountain, filling the bottle and blocking the view from any potential peeper.

The phrase, ‘This isn’t such a bad way to die…’ echoed through his head until he opened his eyes.

 

Alan found himself soaked in sweat, lying on a bed that smelled of lavender, in a room he did not recognize.

“Dreaming inside a lucid dream… It’s so… freaking confusing… Does succubi exist in this digital world?”

The images from his dream were still clear in his mind, and the warm sensation of that devilish redhead biting his neck still haunted him. He touched the skin around that area, trying to hold the feeling as much as possible, until something between his legs got his attention.

The awakened little buddy beneath his underwear seemed to say: ‘Quite scary at first, but it ended up being a pretty neat dream, huh? Wanna play with me while it’s still fresh in our memory?’

He cringed, forming fists. “‘This isn’t such a bad way to die’?! Are you kidding me?!” He tore from his hair, and started rolling on the bed, shouting: “Disgusting, disgusting! These kinds of fetishes are harmful for my pure, innocent mind! Did you hear me?! Forget all about it or I’ll never play with you ever again!”

Panting, he buried his flushed face against the pillow. 

This is what I get after months with no human contact… Especially female contact! Admiring Ashley’s cuteness was fine at the beginning, but all these fully developed women's bodies are on a whole different level!

His mind flashed with the few glimpses he caught of The Redhead’s black tight dress from last night.

After being surrounded by rough, metallic surfaces, 60-feet mechas, service robots, and digital panels for 8 straight months, finally being able to watch healthy—and by healthy I mean big—breasts, feels like returning to being human again!

He sighed while looking at the ceiling. Cleavages are the best… All worth it…

After finally venting out, he inspected the room.

Compared to the emptiness and lifelessness of the Santa María’s Room 13, this is actually cozy and relaxing.

The light of the Novus sun entered through the window and reflected on the wood-patterned tiled floor. In front of him were plenty of furniture at his disposal, and a large, oval mirror from which his reflection stared back. But this time, nothing will come out of it… Right?

He stood up and looked through the window, finding tall buildings and busy streets to explore. This is a real city… Unus Town could never compete with this.

Glancing at the furniture again, he noticed a yellow piece of paper stuck to a drawer. It read: ‘Open me.’ Inside, he found a pair of white sneakers, black baggy pants, a red sporty jacket, and another note: ‘I hope you like them.’ The signature, a star.

He was putting them on manually, until remembering that the Quick Equip button existed. Oh, right, I’m on a simulation now.

With a single tap, he got fully dressed in a couple of seconds. He checked his reflection, nodding approvingly. It was the first time he inspected his appearance inside The Novus since he logged back.

Even though I slept like a rock, these things haven’t vanished yet, he thought, examining the black bags under his eyes. Doesn’t matter. Disregarding that and the fact that I need a haircut, I’m looking gooood!

“Thanks, Astrid. I know you got this for me...” He chuckled. “He really looked good yesterday, didn’t she?”

I know that even if I found The Novus engulfed in flames, you were going to be safe and sound, no matter what. But actually seeing you prideful and beautiful as always, melts my heart.

While forming a smile on his lips, the memory of the alluring demoness from his dream hijacked his mind.

That face… I remember her now… Amelia… The gal that killed me repeatedly last night…

Feeling guilty and angry with himself at the same time, he stared right into his own reflection’s eyes and punched himself in the cheek.

“Deserved,” he mumbled to himself as he exited the room.

Outside, a girl quickly swiped her User Interface out of sight and beamed at him. “Good morning, Alan Warden! The Guild Master has instructed me to… uh…” She squinted at him. “What happened to your face?”

“Hi. Please don’t mind it. I was just--Wait…” He suddenly blushed. “If you’ve been here all this time, you didn’t hear me yelling a moment ago, did you?”

The girl stared at him, confused for a second, before shaking her head vigorously. “What? No! Of course not! These walls are quite thick! I didn’t hear a thing!”

She heard it all…

“But that looks like a very nasty bruise,” she continued, staring at his cheek. “Let me heal you.”

“No, thank you. That would defeat its purpose.” 

“All right then,” the girl with black hair and twin tails said with a warm smile. “My name is Tamara Morin. We couldn’t introduce ourselves last night since we met in a very hectic, brief way.”

He frowned. “Huh? We did?”

She blinked repeatedly before looking away. “Oh, I see. S-Sorry, Alan. Forget what I just said, please.”

What is she talking about? Alan thought while taking that opportunity to inspect her figure.

Beneath the blue cape and white robe he could see a feminine petite figure. Almost the same frame as Isabella II… I mean, Ashley… Alan then stared at Tamara’s young features, making her tilt her head. Would Ashley look as friendly as this girl if she acted like a regular human being?

“Is something on my face, too?” she asked.

“What were you saying about the Guild Master?”

“Right! Listen, Astrid instructed me to give you this message.”

Tamara opened her User Interface and made a video window appear in front of Alan. A recorded Astrid could be seen walking nonstop through a corridor, giving her back to the camera.

“Tammie, I have to go. Tell Alan I won’t be able to show him around, but that we can have dinner tonight. In the meantime, I’ll let you be in charge of protecting him today. Understood? I don’t want a repeat of what happened last night… or EVER.”

“Yes, Guild Master…”

“Great. Thanks Tammie. I owe you--” Before crossing a door, Astrid glanced back, gasping. “TAM! Are you recording me again?! Do not show this to--!”

“I love it when she calls me ‘Tam’,” Tamara whispered. A blushed, dreamy expression on her face.

“She looked quite busy…” Alan whispered, grabbing the cloth around his chest.

It’s okay. I’m finally here. We’ll have plenty of time to hang out later on.

He then turned his gaze towards the smiling girl.

And I also need to reunite with Ashley.

“Tamara, is it possible to send a message to someone I’ve been traveling with lately? Does my User Interface keep a record of everyone I meet?”

Tamara tilted her head slightly. “No, I don’t think so. That sounds more like what an Administrator would keep track of. Do you know the name of this person?”

“Only her first name, sadly. And with that alone, I can’t add her to my friend's list.”

“Bummer…” she said, pouting her lips.

Even if I could communicate with someone from Unus Town like Monique Ascencio to keep an eye on Ashley, I’m pretty sure that she would charge me and increase my debt. Besides, I told Ashley to wait for me at the Renoviato Caves. She doesn’t have a reason to leave without me. At least I hope so…

“Okay, another question. Is there a way to get in contact with an Administrator?”

“Unfortunately, they only talk in person with their Moderators, and they’re a different can of worms, believe me! The only reason we know the Mods exist is because they occasionally make live announcements about some important update or big event. But, Alan, even if you get in contact with one, I doubt they’ll help you find your friend.”

Alan scrutinized her youthful face. She seemed like the very first honest person he had crossed paths with since he logged back.

Astrid trusts her. That’s all I need to know.

“Thanks for all this info, Tamara.”

“Was I really that helpful? I just said what I know.”

“No, really, you truly cleared my doubts.”

“Glad to help!”

“So, by Astrid’s orders, you’re stuck with me today.”

“That’s right! Do you like pancakes? Follow me!” Tamara beamed and led the way, leaving behind a trail of flower’s scent. “You can order breakfast from your room and an NPC will bring it to you, but it’s more fun to eat at the cafeteria.”

As they walked through a corridor long enough to hold close to a hundred windows, Alan could see a pool outside, where some Guilders were having a private competition. Beyond it were the training grounds, where Alan witnessed someone magically bring a 32-feet tall bipedal dinosaur that bowed to its master.

Alan stood in awe, wondering if he could also use the facilities and maybe finally learn how to use his stupid sword. His gaze then landed on a crumbling building in the distance as if it was calling him. It no longer had a rooftop, and through a crack in the wall, he could distinguish the familiar monument of a lion.

“This way, Alan,” Tamara called, urging him to catch up with her.

“Yes!” he replied, glancing at the building one last time. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“Do you like what you see? Our headquarters has all an adventurer could wish for. We have plenty of training areas for whatever field you’d wish to master, and… Look over there. That’s one of the Damage Calculator rooms. Say good morning to Karen and Faiza!”

Alan looked in the pointed direction where two girls were about to enter. The tall, black-haired one noticed the two approaching and grimaced after crossing eyes with Alan. The short one with a drowsy expression on her face, as if she had just awakened, faintly waved back at Tamara before closing the door.

“Where was I?” Tamara continued. “Yes! Tell me, Alan, is there any class you’d wish to learn or perfect?”

“You want the truth?”

“Sure! Shoot!”

“At the beginning, I wanted to be a swordmaster, and Astrid always cheered me on about it, but I quickly discovered that I sucked at it. Maybe I could take a glance at the other Classes available and find something that really fits me--”

What am I doing? He shut his eyes, blushing. I definitely said too much!

Tamara looked away, pretending not to notice.

“We can visit the library after breakfast, then. Hey! Let’s take a brief detour to show you my favorite place in all the HQ. Come!”

This girl is too damn polite, Alan thought, following her lead towards a short corridor.

“This is the Trophy Room!” she continued as she entered a large room decorated with framed videos. “Every Shooting Star can immortalize their most finest hour by by hanging a--”

She pursed her lips after recognizing who was there. Marco Souza, the man that had rallied a third of the guild against Alan, was standing in front of the monument of a winged lion; By his side, a muscular guy and a childish-looking teenager.

The big one is William, the first guy that killed me. And the young one is Matt, the one that broke my fingers while on our way to this city.

Alan noticed that Matt was manipulating a system menu coming out of the monument. It seemed to be the room’s control panel, for a framed video disappeared out of the corner of Alan’s eye, and then another on the front wall.

Are they rearranging them?

Alan met eyes with Marco, who smiled gently at him, contrasting William’s glare.

Why are you smiling at me, you--?!

“A-anyway, the cafeteria is right this way, Alan,” Tamara said anxiously as she pulled him from the hand.

The feeling of her soft hand immediately triggered something in Alan’s brain, for a scene flashed in front of his eyes. He saw Tamara’s distressed face, she seemed to be looking at someone else, as a blinding light came out of her hand. The last thing he remembered was a warm feeling embracing him, and something resembling a bubble protecting him from a sea of fire.

What the hell was that? It looked nothing like a dream. That really happened. But when?

He looked down until watching his own steps. As a matter of fact, I don’t remember anything from yesterday after Astrid arrived.

Do you miss Isabella / Ashley?
  • Yes, i need my AI waifu! Votes: 59 62.8%
  • Meh... Votes: 16 17.0%
  • Astrid is the only owner of my heart! Votes: 19 20.2%
Total voters: 94
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