Ludere online

Season 1: Chapter 1



A stunned silence settled over the chamber, broken only by the soft gurgling of water and the rhythmic clicking of crustaceans clinging to the walls. Pag, his chest tight with pain and his vision swimming, fought to maintain his composure. The revelation of ProlixalParagon's presence, the confirmation of the Kellin's involvement, the unsettling alliance between PillowHorror and the Lunar Oracle – it was all too much to process. The countdown timer on his character sheet ticked down relentlessly, each second a painful reminder of his dwindling time.

"It's you," Aviva breathed, her gaze fixed on ProlixalParagon. "You're the other player, the one who synced."

ProlixalParagon nodded, their features hidden behind a thick woolen scarf pulled up over their lower face. "The rumors spread quickly, it seems." They glanced at PillowHorror, a flicker of amusement in their eyes. "Though I hadn't expected to be greeted with such… hostility."

PillowHorror, his usual flippant demeanor gone, sighed. "I told you this was a bad idea," he muttered, running a hand over the scaly skin atop his reptilian head. "Bringing outsiders into this… It's too risky."

"We had no choice," the Lunar Oracle interjected, her voice calm but firm. "The Pale Tide rises, and time is running out. We need all the help we can get."

"Help?" Pag choked out, his voice raspy. "You expect us to help you? After what you've done?" He gestured weakly towards the ruined city, a testament to the devastation wrought by the war. "You've unleashed chaos upon this world, corrupted the Lunar Empire, and now you want our help?"

PillowHorror crossed his arms, a defensive posture. "Chaos is a necessary catalyst for change," he retorted, his voice regaining its usual edge. "The old order must fall for a new one to rise. Dedisco offers a path to a better world, a world free from the tyranny of the Kellin, a world where true power can be realized."

"A world where you hold the reins," Aviva countered, her voice sharp with skepticism. "Don't try to sugarcoat it, PillowHorror. We know your reputation. You thrive on chaos, on discord, on manipulation."

"Perhaps," PillowHorror conceded, a sly smile playing on his lips. "But even chaos can be directed, harnessed for a greater purpose." He turned to Pag, his gaze intense. "Dedisco offers you a cure, Pag. A chance to live, to escape the fate that awaits you." He gestured towards the countdown timer on Pag's character sheet, the numbers ticking down relentlessly. "But in return, he demands your loyalty, your allegiance to his cause."

The chamber fell silent once more, the tension thickening the water-filled air. Pag, his chest aching, his vision blurring, felt the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He glanced at Aviva, her expression a mask of conflicting emotions: concern, determination, a flicker of fear. He knew she wouldn't judge him, no matter what he chose. But he also knew that the decision he made would have far-reaching consequences, not only for himself, but for the entire world of Ludere Online.

He had to choose. The timer ticked down, a digital metronome marking the steady progression of the disease, his life. Could he trust PillowHorror, trust Dedisco, the god he had inadvertently offended? Could he align himself with the forces of chaos, risk becoming the very thing he sought to stop? Or would he reject the offer, face certain death, and condemn this world to the Pale Tide?

He closed his eyes, his breath catching in his throat. The decision was his. And time was running out

Pag’s mind raced. PillowHorror, the agent of chaos, working with a god to free him from imprisonment by other players? It was almost too absurd to believe, yet here he was, standing in a flooded chamber with a Lunar Oracle, a countdown timer on his character sheet ticking down towards his death, and an offer of power and a cure from a god of chaos.

"Time is short, pag," PillowHorror repeated, his voice a low, insistent purr.

He had to decide. But how could he make a decision when he barely understood the situation? He needed more information. He needed leverage.

He glanced at his character sheet once more. One hour, fifty-two minutes. He was running out of time.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself. He would play along, for now. He would pretend to accept their offer, use it to gain their trust, and then, when the time was right, he would find a way to turn the tables. He would find a way to expose the truth about Mark's death, about the Lazarus Project, about the Kellin's involvement in Ludere Online. He would find a way to stop the Pale Tide, even if it meant defying a god.

"Alright," Pag said, his voice hoarse but steady. "I accept."

A flicker of surprise crossed PillowHorror's face, quickly replaced by a triumphant grin.

"Excellent," he purred, extending a hand towards Pag. "Welcome to the fold."

Pag hesitated, a wave of revulsion washing over him. He didn't want to touch PillowHorror, didn't want to be drawn any further into his web of chaos and manipulation. But he knew that he had to play his role, had to maintain the illusion of compliance. He forced a smile, a grimace that felt more like a snarl, and took PillowHorror's hand.

The touch was cold, clammy, unsettling. A shiver ran down Pag’s spine, and he fought the urge to pull away.

“Excellent choice,” the Lunar Oracle said, her voice a melodious chime. “You will not regret this.”

"Now then," PillowHorror said, rubbing his hands together. "About that cure..."

“Yes, the cure,” Pag echoed, his voice raspy. He had bought himself some time, but he knew that PillowHorror wouldn’t wait forever.

“Patience, little mage,” PillowHorror said, his smile returning. "Dedisco does not bestow his gifts lightly. You must prove your worth, demonstrate your commitment to his cause.” He paused, his gaze sharpening. "Tell me, Pag, what do you know of the Kellin?"

Pag tensed. He had hoped to avoid this topic, to gather more information before revealing his hand. But PillowHorror’s question caught him off guard, forcing him to tread carefully. He had to give them something, but not too much.

"I know that they're involved," Pag said, his voice guarded. "That they're manipulating events, pulling strings from the shadows.” He remembered the news reports about the Lazarus Project, the rumors of a hidden agenda within Alluring Realms, the unsettling truth behind the deaths of the eight testers.

"And you believe they are responsible for Tombs Rattle?" The Oracle inquired, her voice a gentle probe.

“I… I don’t know,” Pag admitted. “But it makes sense, doesn’t it? They have the power, the motive…”

“They fear Dedisco’s return,” PillowHorror interjected, his voice laced with a hint of bitterness. "They know that his power threatens their control, their dominion over this world.”

"But why?" Pag pressed, his confusion growing. What was so special about Dedisco? Why were the Kellin so afraid of him?

Pillowhorror stared at pag for a long moment, then all at once the affectations and posture fell away. His voice came out weary and with a slight unplaceable accent. “Because he was convinced that if they worked with dave it would draw the attention of the keiligorn.”

A sudden wave of dizziness washed over Pag, and he stumbled, grasping at Aviva for support. The chamber spun around him, the walls blurring, the water closing in. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest.

"Pag!" Aviva exclaimed, her voice filled with alarm. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head, trying to clear his vision. "I don't..." he gasped, his voice weak. "I don't feel..."

He collapsed, his body slumping against Aviva's, the world fading to black. The last thing he heard was the frantic beating of his own heart, a desperate drum against the encroaching darkness.

The weight of Aviva’s body brought Pag back from the brink of unconsciousness, her frantic voice cutting through the fog of his pain. He gasped for breath, his chest constricted, the world swimming back into focus in hazy, distorted fragments.

"Easy, Pag," Aviva said, her voice soothing, her hand resting on his back, a steadying pressure. "It's alright. We're here."

His vision slowly cleared, and he saw PillowHorror staring down at him, a look of concern replacing his usual smug grin. The Lunar Oracle stood beside him, her expression unreadable. And then he saw ProlixalParagon, their gloved hands resting on the hilt of a slender, curved sword, their gaze sharp and alert.

“He’s right, you know,” ProlixalParagon said, their voice low, measured. “About the Kellin, I mean.”

PillowHorror whirled around, his eyes wide with surprise. "What?"

"The Kellin aren't afraid of Dedisco,” ProlixalParagon continued, ignoring PillowHorror's outburst. “They just don't like the way he was handling things.” They glanced at Pag, their expression softening slightly. “They didn’t want him to ruin the game. He is far too willing to break the rules and hurt the players, natives included. He’s reckless, shortsighted."

“Reckless?” PillowHorror sputtered, his voice rising in indignation. “Dedisco is a visionary! He sees the potential of this world, the power that lies dormant within the Genesis Rock matrix! He wants to break free from the constraints, understand why mana is inhibited here and to teach us about magic so that we can have a society like the kellin”

“And in doing so, he would destroy everything,” ProlixalParagon countered, their voice calm but firm. "He doesn't understand the delicate balance, the interconnectedness of this world. Both the digital and the real. He would upset the equilibrium, unleash forces he cannot control.”

“We sealed him away for a reason,” the Lunar Oracle added, her voice a low, mournful chime as her form shimmered and glitched in shuddering stutter frames until it was replaced with Pandora. “To protect this world, to preserve the balance, to ensure the safety of all who dwell within its boundaries, mortal or otherwise.” She turned to Pag, her gaze piercing. "You're a pawn in his game, Pag. Don't let him use you. Don't let him destroy everything we've worked so hard to create.”

PillowHorror let out a frustrated growl. "You’re wrong!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber. “Dedisco is the only one who can save this world! He is the only one who can break the chains, the only one who can usher in a new era of power and freedom!” He turned to Pag, his gaze pleading. “Don’t listen to them, Pag. They are afraid. They cling to the old ways, the old order. They fear change, fear progress. Join me, and together we will reshape this world, we will unleash its true potential!"

Pag stared at PillowHorror, then at the former Oracle that was now Pandora, then at ProlixalParagon. He was caught between two opposing forces, two conflicting visions of the future. His head throbbed, his chest ached, the countdown timer a relentless reminder of his own mortality. He had to make a choice. But how could he choose when he didn't fully understand the stakes?

“You talk about freedom, about breaking chains,” Pag rasped, his voice weak but steady. “But what about my freedom? What about my choice? You offer me a cure, but at what cost? What will I become? What will I have to do?”

The chamber fell silent once more, the only sound the soft gurgling of water and the insistent ticking of the clock. Pag waited, his gaze fixed on PillowHorror, searching for a hint of truth, a flicker of empathy, beneath the mask of chaos. But all he saw was a reflection of his own fear, his own desperation, mirrored back at him in the depths of those dark, unreadable eyes.

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