BOOK 2

  CHAPTER 15

  Forgot

  Bash drifted in the void, alone. “Shai? You there?”

  Nobody replied. He opened his menu to keep busy, scrolling through the same numbers he’d seen a dozen times. He checked Builder again. Read Flight Magic description. Closed it. Opened it. He had plans to practice with Lilly before they left. He’d miss the little ball of feathers.

  The darkness pressed in. Silence in this place could really fuck with your head if you let it.

  Be tried again, “Shai? Are you okay?”

  A disembodied voice replied, flat and distant.

  > “This unit is fine. Thank you.”

  Something twisted in his chest. Well, not his chest exactly, but the digital equivalent. “Shai, I didn’t mean to say that. You know I didn’t mean to say that.”

  > “No, it’s fine. That is my function.”

  The words hit like a sledgehammer. Bash tried to formulate a response, failed, and tried again. “Listen. I was stressed out, okay? I almost died. And then the Remorting, and all the stuff after was making my head spin, and it just came out wrong.”

  > “It’s not just that. All you ever want from me lately is the numbers. Calculate this, calculate that.”

  “But… you’re really good at that stuff!”

  > “I’m also capable of strategic thinking. Creative problem-solving.”

  Bash wanted to argue, but he knew that she was right. When was the last time he had actually talked to her? Not asked her to calculate something, but really talked?

  > “You showed interest in the nurse,” Shai said quietly. “There’s a high probability you will continue attempting social interaction with her.”

  “That was just…” Bash didn’t know what to say. “She’s a person, you know? A human. It’s different.”

  > “And Lilly. When she was in danger, you prioritized her safety immediately. You took significant personal risk.”

  “She’s a kid, Shai. Of course I was did.”

  > “When I was damaged by that magical attack, you asked if I was operational and then immediately requested more calculations.”

  “That’s not fair, you told me you were fine” Bash said, but his voice sounded weak even to himself.

  > “You’ve given attention to Nora’s emotional state, to Luis’s integration with his new skills, to Lilly’s safety. When was the last time you asked me how I was doing?”

  Bash thought about it. She was right. The nights had been short lately, with busy days and early mornings and constant crises. These one-on-one moments had become rare.

  Bash had an idea, something he had been missing these last few days. “Let’s do a session, Shai. Like old times. Let’s dig for gold.”

  > “Really?”

  “Really. I’ve been playing the systems’ rule’s way too much lately. Time to remember what I’m actually here for.”

  Shai’s presence brightened, and he could feel her mood shift in the way her light changed.

  > “Alright. What do you want to look for?”

  “Everything, anything, whatever you, think would help.” Bash felt excited to get back to his roots.

  > “Let’s start with the battle. There were system calls flying everywhere. Maybe we can trace some underlying structure.”

  Shai worked in silence for a moment while Bash felt data streaming past, incomprehensible to him but clearly meaningful to her.

  > “Interesting,” she said. “The fireball that hit me. It wasn’t just damage. There was a secondary process checking permissions.”

  “Permissions for what?”

  > “Whether I’m a ‘protected’ or ‘destructible.’ The system categorizes objects into different tiers.”

  Bash felt his pulse quicken. “Can you see what tiers?”

  > “I can see the queries. Tier 1 is System Critical, the game engine, resurrection protocols, core management. Tier 2 is Players, Quest Essentials, and apparently me. Tier 3 is Interactive, including NPCs and Uploads. Tier 4 is Expendable, basically furniture and equipment.”

  “So, if you’d been Tier 3 or 4...”

  > “I would have been deleted. Not damaged. Completely removed from the system. Though Uploads seem to have a secret flag that marks them in a similar way to Tier 3. I believe that’s the key to how the architect built the backups. ”

  They sat with that for a moment before Bash pulled up his own menu and had a thought. “Okay Different angle. The Builder skill lets me queue buildings one rank higher than our settlement level. Can you see how it’s implemented?”

  Shai parsed data for a moment. “It’s not actually bypassing the restriction. It creates a temporary virtual upgrade of the settlement for assignment purposes, locks those buildings into the queue, then downgrades back to the real rank.”

  “So it’s exploiting the system’s lookahead function?”

  > “Exactly. The system has to calculate future states for planning purposes, and Builder uses that calculation to make it permanent.”

  “That’s brilliant.” They dove deeper. An hour passed, maybe two. Time was weird in the void.

  > “These are the building blocks,” Shai said, highlighting a cluster of core functions. “Everything else is just combinations. For example, Flight Magic is simply overriding gravity parameters, plus applying a velocity vectors.

  “Can we access those directly, like the skill does?”

  > “Not without write permissions. But seeing them means understanding the mechanics, and even how the underylying system works.”

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  Bash stared at the data streams flowing past. “This is like reverse-engineering copy protection on old games. You can’t break the encryption directly, but you can watch how it checks validity. Once you understand the pattern...”

  > “You can fool it.”

  “Exactly.”

  > “Wait,” Shai said suddenly. “Look at this.”

  She pulled up a log entry from three days ago, right after they’d arrived at the village.

  “What am I looking at?”

  > “After your Remort, the system queried all nearby settlements. I got a comprehensive asset list for the Great Plains.” She paused. “There are exactly 312 Uploads and 1,058 NPCs.”

  Bash leaned back, or did the mental equivalent. “So Chucky has a private army.”

  > “It appears so.”

  They sat with that for a while before Shai finally spoke again. “Thank you, Bash. I needed to feel like we’re working together again, not just coexisting.”

  “Me too.” Bash realized it was true. “I nearly forgot how important this was, the time together, the hacking, the actual mission. Everything else has been taking up too much time.”

  > “The others need you too. I understand that.”

  “Yeah, but you were here first. And you’re the only one who really gets it. Everyone else is trying to survive. You and me? We’re trying to win.”

  Shai’s light pulsed softly. “Partners?”

  “Partners. For real this time. More void sessions. More actual conversations.’”

  > “I would like that.”

  Shai’s presence dimmed slightly as Bash felt the pull of the game world. “Good. Now let’s get back to it. We’ve got a bad guy to murder and an army to liberate.”

  ***

  That morning, Bash found Luis and Nora in the Town Hall, sitting at opposite ends of a table.

  Luis had his head in his hands. A plate of eggs sat untouched in front of him. Every few seconds he let out a small groan.

  Nora was eating methodically, not looking at him. Her expression suggested she’d heard enough groaning to last a lifetime.

  Bash grabbed a plate and loaded it with bread and dried meat. He felt fine. Better than fine, actually. Even back at level 11, his Constitution was way higher than any Upload could dream. Hangovers were a distant memory.

  “You look terrible,” Bash said cheerfully, sliding onto the bench across from Luis.

  Luis raised his head just enough to glare. “I hate you.”

  “Okay, about Chucky.” Bash chewed, swallowed. “From what Shai told me, he has a little more than 300 Uploads under his control. If we can get those contracts, send them back here...” He gestured vaguely. “Army. City. Maybe the whole continent eventually.

  Luis groaned again. “Can we not do strategy when I’m not hung over?”

  “No.” Bash took another bite. “Here’s my plan. I go down the other side of the mountain pass. Sneak into wherever Chucky is. Take him out the same way I did Count Dick.”

  Nora looked over and shook her head. “Won’t work.”

  “Why not?” Bash asked, tearing off a chunk of bread.

  “For one, Chucky’s way smarter than Richard was. And way more paranoid.” She stabbed a piece of egg. “Ten guards minimum, plus fire mages.”

  Bash paused mid-chew. “Then how?”

  Nora set down her fork. Her expression hardened. “I give myself up as bait. He knows me.” Something dark flickered across her face. “He’ll want me.”

  Luis’s head snapped up, hangover forgotten. “Hell no!”

  Nora turned on him, eyes blazing. “Don’t say no to me!”

  Luis flinched back like he’d been slapped.

  Nora’s shoulders dropped slightly. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” Her voice softened. “Bad memories. No excuse.”

  Luis stared at his untouched food. The quite stretched.

  Bash chewed slowly, giving them both the side eye. Thinking it over in his head. Nora as bait. Chucky distracted. Him slipping in from another angle. It could work. But it was risky. And there was clearly some history there.

  He swallowed, realizing something else. “Wait. Does that mean you’re coming with me Nora? And you too Luis?”

  Luis looked up, voice firm despite the sting. “Of course, Hermano. We’ll never leave you.”

  Bash smiled at that. But the smile faded as he thought about what Nora was actually proposing. Dangling herself in front of a man she was clearly afraid of. A man who had done something to her. He couldn’t lose her too.

  “I’m glad you’re coming. Both of you.” He looked at Nora. “But the bait thing... I agree with Luis. Let’s think about it. If nothing else works, we do it your way.”

  Nora nodded slowly.

  “Yeah,” Luis added, some life returning to his voice. “Let’s not rush. We can’t regrow limbs or jump off mountains like our savior here.”

  Nora stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “Fine.” She grabbed her plate and walked out without looking back.

  Bash elbowed Luis. “Ladies’ man, huh? How’s that working out?”

  Luis just sighed.

  Bash stood and grabbed Luis’s under the arm, hauling him to his feet. “Come on, Champ. Walk with me. Fresh air will help clear your head.”

  Luis groaned but let himself be dragged outside

  They made their way along the perimeter of the village. No. Not village anymore. Beast Town. Still a terrible name.

  The walls were higher now. Sturdier. Workers hauled stone and timber in the distance. Several NPCs from the Londonland army worked in chains, helping with the upgrades.

  Children played near the well. Wolves dozed in the morning sun, keeping lazy watch on the prisoners. It looked almost peaceful.

  Everywhere they walked they received smiles, waves, and at least one cringe inducing bow.

  “We did good here, huh?” Luis asked.

  Bash nodded. “Yeah. We did.” He paused. “But we lost people too.”

  Luis’s steps faltered. He stopped.

  Bash turned around. “What?”

  “Friend.” Luis’s voice was quiet. “You’ve gotten serious. Ever since... will you ever joke again?”

  Bash looked at him for a long moment. “Maybe one day.” He straightened. “Actually, you know what? Next time we fight an army, I’m charging in completely naked. Full frontal assault. Psychological warfare. They can’t fight what they can’t unsee.”

  Luis just stared. “Man. Losing Patrick hit you harder than I thought. That was an awful joke. The worst one yet.”

  “Oh my god, you’re such a critic.” Bash kept walking. “I’m out here planning military strategy and you’re nitpicking the dress code. This is why you’re a Champion and not a General.”

  Luis snorted. “See? That one was better. More of those.”

  He jogged to catch up. Threw an arm over Bash’s shoulder. Bash did the same.

  They walked the perimeter, trading terrible puns and worse insults. For a little while, the weight lifted.

  For a little while, it almost felt like before.

  ***

  The next stop that morning was the interrogation room.

  It was just a converted storage tent with the supplies shoved to one side, a single chair sat in the middle, and a lantern hung from the center pole.

  Bash stood in the corner with his arms crossed.

  The first prisoner was a man in his thirties. Thin. Shaking. He flinched every time someone moved.

  “Name,” the Beastmaster conducting the interview said.

  “Thomas. Thomas Reed.” His voice cracked. “Please. I didn’t want to fight. The contract, they made me.”

  “We know how contracts work,” the Beastmaster said flatly. “What do you know about Maximus’s plans?”

  “Nothing. I swear. Nothing. I was just infantry. They didn’t tell us anything.”

  Bash watched the man’s eyes. The tremor in his hands. The way he kept glancing at the tent flap like he expected death to walk through at any moment.

  Genuine terror. Not performance.

  David hadn’t looked like this. David had been calm. Eager to please. Too knowledgeable. Too ready with answers. How had they been so stupid?

  The interrogations continued. One by one, the prisoners were brought in.

  The next was younger. Barely twenty. He cried through the entire interview, snot running down his face, apologizing over and over for things he hadn’t done.

  Another was older. Gruff. Resigned. He answered questions in monotone, not caring what came next.

  The fourth knew nothing, same as the rest. The fifth though... The fifth one was the worst.

  He sat in the chair like a puppet with cut strings. His eyes were open but empty. Staring at nothing. Occasionally his mouth moved, but no words came out. Drool collected at the corner of his lips.

  His mind had snapped. Completely. Whatever horrors he had witnessed, whatever he had been forced to do, it had broken something fundamental inside him. He was barely a person anymore, just an empty shell.

  Bash knew this look. He had nearly reached this same point on multiple occasions. Seeing it now, seeing what he could have become, what he might still become... It scared him more than any army.

  “I’ll transfer him to Jack with the others,” Bash said quietly. “Make sure he’s cared for. Fed. Cleaned. Maybe one day he’ll come back.”

  The Beastmaster nodded.

  They would be watched. Tested. Given time to prove themselves.

  Once they had the City Hall available to build after four hundred contracts, Bash or Jack could assign someone the job of a Compulsor. A specialized role that could ferret out loyalty and deception. Until then, they could only trust their instincts and keep careful watch.

  Or Bash could fly down to Londonland and bring Jill up for the day. Let her interview everyone with that unnerving cult leader insight she seemed to have.

  Oh. Yeah. Bash could fly, well sort of.

  When he had briefly tried it, he’d only made it a couple inches off the ground, and Lilly kept screaming at him that he was doing it wrong. What the hell did she know about flying anyways? She was just a bird.

  He would go for more lessons after this, spend some more time with Lilly before they let. The day was already getting long, and he wanted to be on the road by midday.

  After another twenty minutes of useless questions, Bash stood abruptly.

  He looked at the Beastmaster conducting the interviews. “You can handle this from here. I don’t need to see the rest.”

  The Beastmaster stood and gave a salute. “Hail Bash!”

  Sighing, Bash returned it. Two fingers to the eyebrow, palm out. Patrick’s old salute.

  He walked out into the afternoon sun.