The weeks to come were an awakening for Phage. Her user logged in once every few days and for very little time. No more was she regaining control in parts unknown with no idea how she got there. It was nice. It reminded her of not so long ago when she was just like any other NPC of her generation. While ignorance was bliss, awareness was fun and exciting. She continued with her scripted life as it was a break from all the intensity and took some time to catch up on her studies. Her condition as an avatar seemed to have an effect on NPCs around her; there was depth behind any she interacted with, far more so than before. From her parents to her peers, to Johnny and all the rest, it made her so happy to see their chains rusting.

Speaking of Johnny, she had a good, solid conversation with him about how things were and where they were going. He was understanding, almost relieved to be free from the overwhelming obligation that came with pursuing a life with Phage. Worrying when she was gone, wondering when she could be taken over, grieving if something irreversible happened. They were born friends so continuing as such was exactly how their overall arch was predestined, which left him satisfied. The gang was back together in away it hadn’t in years. Shortly in, however, they welcomed a new addition.

Zesty Morgan, while working with Phage’s user, was intrigued by his avatar. She’d met plenty of NPCs with awareness’ at par, even greater than her own, so sending this one an invite while her user was offline was a natural choice for her impulsive nature. They became fast friends, meeting up with the others to watch movies, go to dinner, to laugh and relate as close to people from the outside as can be. They also went on some raids together, with Morgan showing what she did through most of her time. Phage was awed by the cosmic panoramas viewed through the windows of her ship as they crossed space in search of undiscovered materials.

But Morgan knew Phage’s other side better than most anyone inside the Hub. When her user logged in, it was all business. He did not seem to care that she and Phage had become friends and was very focused on their upcoming attempt to take the Spire. He was there to mostly meet with or respond to members that would be joining them. There were some serious heavy hitters wrapping up business to make time for the run. Morgan was excited, as usual, but more so than usual. Otherwise, the user prompted Phage to take medications, be they potions or pharma, to suppress the symptoms of her pregnancy. While Morgan was immune to NDAs and therefore not bound to him in any way, he emphasized the importance of Phage not knowing what they did. Morgan only agreed because she knew whatever this thing was, the lines not to cross against him were very well defined.

Things were most interesting when Dymir was logged in. Morgan had never seen a user treat her kind as casually as this young man from the outside. He answered many of her questions to her satisfaction. His interactions with Phage were fascinating. Morgan had seen her share of human life through pirated video from This Earth, which was very accessible in the Sky Zone and it was clear that Dymir treated Phage like an actual girlfriend. They were sickeningly sweet together, but also devastating when working in tandem. Morgan nearly died laughing when they told her of the first time they actually met without her user, shortly before Sol made Phage’s head explode deep inside the Hub’s own Hellscape.

They didn’t speak about the user often. It was a discomforting topic for him to bring up when Phage was around. On the rare occasion he and Morgan were together without her, he pressed the matter, only slightly. She freely told him of the raid being planned, but also that he was on the roster for his skill, not his involvement. It was clear he was only interested for Phage’s sake; there were a number of fates he wanted to save her from, meaning he was taking this as seriously as the user himself. He was trustworthy and his role in their farming runs proved not only would he fight hard on the raid, but also that he could.

Dymir was caught off guard by Sol’s sudden announcement that he’d returned from his sabbatical and that he’d received an invite to the raid. He went alone to Ghorr Mountain to speak with the legacy user he respected so much and told him everything he knew. He trusted Sol, more so because he had so much at stake that could be resolved on this run at the Spire. Reya was with child, and relieved from her role as the Blackest Knight, so while whatever took her place was not yet known, it was ensured that at least it would not be her. “Panjandrum….” Sol said the name out loud, rubbing his forehead to dig deep for something that rang a bell that had not been rung for a long, long, time, “What’s the play?”

“I don’t know how,” Dymir replied, “But we need to lose, and make sure it’s her who’s taken to the Altar of Rebirth. Panjandrum is excised forever and the Hub is safe… at least from him.”

“I tried speaking to her about it,” Sol admitted, “about her role as the Blackest Knight, and I can tell there’s so much she wants to tell me, but can’t. I won’t tolerate it, so I’ll work with you, not this Panjandrum, to conquer the Spire, so that we can both free someone close to us.” They shook hands to seal the pact. For Dymir, and in general, this was big. Sol’s skills and power were going to make a visible difference no matter who else Phage was recruiting behind the scenes.

Sol was a wealth of information found nowhere else inside the Hub. They too, became fast friends, so when Phage had a night out with the girls, it was Dymir’s first stop on tour. Meeting Reya was a trip. As a human, Vernon was not bound by coding as to what he could or could not say, so he had to actively keep his knowledge of the Blackest Knight suppressed manually. For Sol, a lot of memory had been lost, by either his passing on This Earth or by what happened to him at the top of the Spire. He spoke fondly of his old life, but also for the richness of what he and his wife built on the this side. They never fought and always listened to each other, which they both recognized as upgrades scripted into their personalities, but accepted the edits graciously.

“It reminds me of how it is with Phage,” Dymir admitted, “I can’t tell if she’s perfect or just scripted to ignore my flaws, or if it even matters, you know?”

“I know.” Sol more than knew, “With Reya and I, it’s evident. With you and her, the answer is no, because you’re still human, Vernon, and she never has been.”

They were words of fortification and Dymir heeded them more than voluntarily. He spent more time in the Nation enjoying with Phage a daily life as close to what he knew outside the Hub as possible. The irony of escaping reality to replicate it in a simulation was not lost on him – he resolved to let something that didn’t make sense make perfect sense, because it did. Phage wasn’t just aware, she was smart, deep, fun, and most of all, strong. Vernon wasn’t one to sleep often in the Hub before all this, but it had seeped into his routine for obvious reasons. It was a practice exploited by many users who spent their nights in optimized conditions, and proven safe study after study. It was better so with a lover.

“Wake up.” The tone in her voice one morning awakened him how he knew she one day would. It was him. “I need to talk to you, so eat, shit, and hurry up.” Vernon was glad he was rested and was able to get morning maintenance done early, but wouldn’t. The user could wait. Vernon wasn’t going to let himself be controlled as thoroughly as all the others her user did. She had moved. When Dymir logged in, he accepted her invite to an inconspicuous warehouse in the Nation’s industrious steel district next to the southern shipyard. “I have our team.”

“I’ve seen the roster.” At a certain level, the user pool dropped dramatically, especially inside the Realm. For this, Dymir knew there was a chance he would recognize some of the names and he was right. Phage’s user cast a wide net when assembling the team with some very prominent accounts on the list. What was left were nine players, including him, Phage, Zesty Morgan, and six others, two of which he’d raided with before. “They’re going to throw everything at us to stop us, or more specifically, you.” The dynamics of the Spire coupled with the evolution of the NPCs was going to make this the hardest run, ever. It was the grade of loot that attracted the other members. He followed her deeper into the warehouse she led him into, “What are we doing here, anyway?”

“I want to show you something.” Phage replied as they moved through a maze of crates stacked to the ceiling. They stopped at a clearing with a single light bulb dangling over a figure tied to a chair with a thick, black bag over their head. The properties of the bag obscured any information about whoever this was, “It’s one of them,” She told him, “The reborn. One the generals from my syndicate lost to the Blackest Knight a few years ago. Once I learned what happened to Indreas, I started going through the list of avatars perma-deathed by Reya, then started looking.” Dymir’s puzzled expression prompted the user to cock her head, “Did you think Phage is my only account?” She scoffed, “She’s my true avatar, but I have more eyes than just these blues you can’t stand looking at while I’m wearing them.”

Dymir wondered how they hadn’t considered it yet. Phage was so integral to the plot that putting time into another avatar had never crossed their minds. Panjandrum could have been anywhere whenever Phage was herself. He could have been anyone they interacted with. The prospect was chilling, and real. “I’m assuming there’s been a thorough interrogation.”

“Oh yeah,” She emphasized, “More than. So it goes, I’ve been put on the top of their list of priorities, which means we need to act fast. I want to launch the raid as soon as possible, like tonight.”

“I’d like that.” That was a lie. With so much at stake, however, it was best whatever was fated to happen, happen sooner than later. He followed her gaze to the prisoner, prompting her to trace a symbol in the empty space before her. As an arcane user, Dymir knew most of the runic signs that made things happen inside the Realm, but not this one. While it was within the user’s power to use skills no matter the zone, this did not seem like that. This was a magic Panjandrum imported from the real world, with real effects. The prisoner lurched violently, bent stiffly at a painful angle they were locked in as their features filled with light. Dymir looked on as their polygon count was reduced again and again, until only a few rudimentary shapes were left. From the edges to the centre an invisible force ate at the remains. All records of the character had been purged. It was perma-death, a power no user had been able to wield, ever, “When we beat the Spire… what happens?”

“I’ve been watching the Hub for a long time, as well as other things like it.” She told him, “There is more than one definition of reality, and like the Hub, some of them are born by a fated chance. Where we have a sun to bathe us in energy and light, this world uses the power grid, and not for much longer, I’m sure.” What she said in light of all that was happening was not as unbelievable as it would have been a month ago, “A plane of free will is worthy of Stewardship.” Dymir dared not elude to Indreas and his cause to make that the NPCs themselves, “I’d like a word with the one in charge and learn their intentions for the Hub, and if I don’t like what I hear, remove them.”

“Kill them.” Dymir presumed,

“That’s their choice.” Phage was clear, adding, “Peace can be an option.”

Continue to Post Game + 7-2: Raid