Chapter 90: Project Rejuvenation
Chapter 90: Project Rejuvenation
The silence was uncomfortable. It lingered in the air like a bad smell. Zach had finished speaking almost three full minutes ago, and even still, Mr. Oren and Donovan hadn’t said a word in reply. Both men looked troubled and disturbed, which was totally understandable. But what Zach had not anticipated was the sheer extent to which his explanation would upset them. Sure, it was a lot to take in, and yes, it was the sort of stuff one would lose sleep over. But Zach hadn’t expected them to be stunned to the point where they had seemingly gone catatonic.
I might’ve broken them, he thought, wincing. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.
Truth be told, while both of them were having a larger-than-expected reaction to everything Zach had revealed, their responses definitely weren’t equal. In fact, Donovan’s reaction only seemed so extreme because Zach was viewing it in comparison to his usual self. All things considered, he actually looked kind of okay; he was just being weirdly silent. It was Mr. Oren who seemed to have been hit the hardest. His lab-coat-wearing science teacher appeared dejected in a way that Zach had only seen once before: earlier today when Donovan had died in the fight against the Ziragoth adds, and he’d looked like he’d decided to give up on everything and everyone, including himself.
That’s exactly how he looks right now.
Donovan, on the other hand, was at least showing signs of life. He was slowly nodding his head and very quietly whispering something to himself as though putting together pieces in his mind. But Mr. Oren was hardly even moving. He was rigid, barely blinking, and about as animate as a frozen block of ice. Zach could not believe things were hitting Mr. Oren this hard. After all, he and Kalana had taken it in stride, so why couldn’t Mr. Oren?
“I get that it’s…a lot,” Zach said, finally breaking the silence. “I really do.”
He was sitting with them at a square-shaped table that Angelica had brought into what he now thought of as the “privacy room.” She’d also given them all a large sampling of various plates of her finest food, with an entire pitcher of her custom-made cherry cola just for Zach. Kalana was to his left, and across from him, Mr. Oren and Donovan were sitting on the other end. When the conversation had first begun, all four of them had been digging in and eating to their heart’s content. But right around half way, Mr. Oren had slowed down, and then by the end, even Donovan had stopped eating.
This is making me feel so weird.
He felt a patting sensation on his left thigh under the table, and he turned his head to glance at Kalana, who was giving him a reassuring look. This, as Angelica came into the uncomfortably quiet room, smiled, and handed Zach his robe, which she’d washed for him. He gave her his deepest thanks, glad to see that every last trace of the blood was cleaned off it. At the moment, Zach had on a white undershirt. Briefly getting up from the table, he slipped back into his new robe then returned to his seat.
“How’s Prila doing?” Kalana asked.
“The doctor says everything went great and she’s just woken up, but she’ll need a few more minutes before she’ll come back to her senses enough to talk to us. Don’t worry: I’m making sure she’s cared for.”
“Thank you so much,” Kalana said. “You’re amazing, Angelica.”
“Aww, shucks. You’re welcome, Kalana.”
The two smiled at each other, and then Angelica left the room again. The exact moment the cat-eared NPC walked away, there was an immediate return to the awkward silence, and now, starting to lose his patience, Zach began to tap his fingers agitatedly on the table.
“Okay, guys, come on,” he said. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in, but if even I can handle it, I don’t see why—”
“You don’t get it, kiddo,” Donovan said, finally speaking at last. He opened his mouth and looked as if he were about to speak further, but then he paused and eyed the door behind Zach. “If there was any way I could talk to you outside or somewhere else, I would.”
Confused, Zach shifted his eyes back and forth between Donovan and Mr. Oren. Was Donovan implying that he wanted to speak somewhere that Mr. Oren couldn’t overhear them? “The truth is,” Donovan continued, “I’m actually fine. It’s a bit of a shock, but…I’m shocked for the same reason you and your girlfriend were. I’m having the same reaction you guys probably did. Only reason I’m keeping my trap shut right now is out of respect and consideration for Alex.”
Zach didn’t think he was lying. Donovan wasn’t exactly the type to fake his emotions or come off as dishonest. Yet Zach was becoming more and more perplexed by the second. “Respect and consideration over what, exactly?” he asked. “You make it sound like he’s—”
He paused mid-sentence, forgetting whatever he’d been about to say as he noticed Mr. Oren finally making at least some kind of movement. Zach watched as he bent forward slightly in his chair and then began burying his entire face in the palms of his hands, which were propped up on the table by his elbows. It was a very strange gesture, one that gave off a weakness typically not shown by the man.
Donovan, in a repeat of just a few seconds before, opened his mouth to speak, paused, and then glanced around uneasily as though wanting to have a word with Zach in private but knowing damn well he couldn’t because apparently some guy named Adamus had ways of spying on them and finding out what they were saying. Honestly, it was pretty creepy.
As though realizing that his only options were to either talk openly in front of Mr. Oren or continue to remain silent, Donovan grumbled to himself a moment before finally deciding to speak. “Alex isn’t…he’s not upset for the reasons you think he is.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’d like to tell you, kid, but it’s hard for me on account of him sitting right here while we talk about him. Maybe we should put this chat off until a little—”
“It’s fine,” Mr. Oren said, abruptly lowering his hands and once more sitting up straight. He met Zach’s eyes, and Zach could tell there was something very, very wrong with him right now: specifically, his spirit. He didn’t look “sad” exactly. The look on his face wasn’t the kind of look one gave off when they were informed of a loved one’s passing or a great misfortune. Rather, Mr. Oren appeared far more defeated. Like he’d met an obstacle too great to overcome, or he’d just lost all hope.
“What’s wrong, Alex?” Kalana whispered.
Mr. Oren lowered his head and stared at the food on his plate, though he did not appear as though he intended to eat any of it. “What Donovan just said about me…it’s correct,” Mr. Oren replied, speaking softly. “I’m struggling to behave like my usual self right now. And no, it’s not because of the World Eater, and it’s not because of the other bits of astonishing information that you two have learned.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
He lifted his head and regarded Kalana, but only for a few seconds; following that, he once more averted his eyes. “Kalana, to you and Zach—and also to Donovan—what you’ve just learned is something very upsetting about the world. But to me, it’s more than that. I’ve just found out that…that most of my life has been a lie, and everything I’ve ever believed in is fake. As a man of science, I suppose I deserve this. Logically, rationally, I should have known better. But even still, I feel shattered: and humiliated.”
“What do you mean?” Zach asked. “I don’t understand. We also found out the same stuff.”
Donovan crossed his large, powerful arms. “Kid, it’s not that. It’s that Alex was a true believer in the buff.”
“Believer in the…buff?”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry if I sound dumb, but I don’t know what that means.”
“Basically,” Donovan explained, “given how little we know about it, there’s lots of adventurers who think it’s some kind of personal calling from the Gods. Now, as for me? Personally? I’ve always made clear that I never gave a shit about it. I always just took it as another part of life or adventuring or whatever. But Alex thought it was something special.”
“Because it called upon me,” Mr. Oren said. “Many, many times.”
Zach found his words unsettling. “Called upon you? How so?”
He removed his cat-eye glasses and wiped his eyes, then put them back on his face. “Zach, do you remember the night you came to me for help? When Kalana had been kidnapped?”
“Of course,” Zach said. “How could I ever forget?”
“That was no coincidence. That was the Will of the Favored. Ever since becoming an adventurer, the Will of the Favored would call out to me: I could feel it within myself beckoning me to help others. I believed it was…I don’t want to say divine, or a God, but I did not reject those possibilities, either. I suppose it’d be most accurate to say that I assumed the source was from an altruistic higher power beyond human comprehension. You can use whatever word for that as you please. I believed strongly in that, and it gave me a sense of purpose. But now,” he said, a look of agony crossing his features, “I’ve just found out that, all along, what I suspected to be a calling from some magnificent, greater being turns out to have been nothing more than an ordinary Galterran pushing buttons on a terminal. I’ve been manipulated and taken advantage of, and…and a Gods-damned fool, pardon my language.”
Kalana placed her hand over her heart. “I’m so sorry, Alex. This must be really hard to accept.”
“It is.”
“But wait a second.” Zach rubbed his chin as he tried to make sense of what Mr. Oren was telling him. “The person pushing the buttons is working for one of the Gods, right? So isn’t that almost the same?”
Mr. Oren shook his head. “Adamus is a Great One, not a God.”
“No, you’re wrong,” Kalana said, becoming somewhat confrontational. “Adamus Vayra is a God, so you were actually chosen by a higher power after all. Zach made a really good point.”
“I must disagree, respectfully,” Mr. Oren said. “And I really do appreciate you trying to make me feel better, Kalana. But we both know that that’s a pretty big rationalization. Adamus isn’t what, at least in my beliefs, I’d consider a God. And while I respect your beliefs: truly, I do, the fact of the matter is that, to me, he’s just a Great One. Although, given what I’ve now learned about him, I can’t help but feel like even calling him “great” is a bit too charitable.”
“How much do you actually know about the Great Ones, anyway?” Zach asked.
“Only what’s written about them on items, same as any other adventurer. Well, other than the Great One Olandrin, but that’s a whole different story. He’s a Great One you’ll become intimately familiar with before long. Every adventurer does eventually.”
Donovan cracked a grin. “Yeah, everyone loves Olandrin,” he said. “Especially Fluffles.” Then, suddenly, he frowned. “Shit, I just remembered he’s gone, isn’t he? Him and almost all of the others. Damn, Olandrin might be the biggest loss of all. I’ll miss him. Even though the fucker’s been gone more than a thousand years before I was even born, it feels like we only just lost him right now.”
Zach wanted to ask them who this “Olandrin” was and why they knew so much about him, but he decided that, with everything else going on, it was probably better for him to inquire later when things weren’t so hectic. Right now, they had more than enough to deal with: especially Mr. Oren, who was really taking things very, very badly.
Pausing for a moment, Zach reflected inwardly as he tried to put himself in his former science teacher’s shoes, but it honestly wasn’t easy. Even though he now understood the cause of Mr. Oren’s pain, and he felt true compassion for the man, it was hard for him to emotionally connect with it. This was especially true since his feelings towards the buff were much more like Donovan’s. Just like the leader of the GSG, Zach thought little about it outside of just two contexts: its usefulness in giving him access to dungeons, and the way it symbolized being a true, real adventurer.
For this reason, Zach viewed it as an important, wonderful tool: but nothing more beyond that. And the reason he wanted Kalana to have it so badly was so that she, too, would carry the mark of an adventurer and truly be one of them. But, short of that, he’d never ascribed to the buff any sort of “spiritual” or “religious” meaning. That was why, even after everything he’d just found out, his feelings towards the Will of the Favored had not changed at all. He still wanted Kalana to have it, and he still thought of it as a symbol and a tool. But honestly? If tomorrow, the buff was suddenly replaced by a patch you could wear on your clothing that did the exact same thing, he’d be just as fine with it.
“How many other adventurers feel this way about it?” Zach asked.
“About half,” Donovan said with a frustrated, rumbling grunt. “This would upset a whole lot of people if they found out. It would also cause a whole lot of in-fighting and resentment from the idiots who wouldn’t be able to resist gloating and saying ‘I told you so’ to those who were wrong. It would get ugly fast.”
Zach nodded. “Well, since we can’t tell them anyway, I guess that’s one less thing to worry about. But more importantly, I apologize for bringing you guys here. You can go back to the raid camp now if you want. I guess it’s best if I deal with Prila after all.”
At this, quite a bit of the fire returned to Mr. Oren’s eyes. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “You were right to bring us here. There are numerous issues you’ve uncovered: far too many to count. And of them all, my own disappointment ranks at the bottom. It’s clear you’ve stumbled upon something very, very important, and I’m not about to put my personal feelings above that.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” Zach said. “But are you…okay? You know, to talk to her?”
“I am,” he said. “Like you’ve deduced, I’m the best person here to conduct the interview with this woman, though I do have to wonder: this ‘Prila,’ who gave you the buff…is she the one who gave it to me as well? Or was it just you, Zach?”
“It was both of you,” said a voice from the door, which had just been opened without Zach even realizing it. Inside came the woman who’d called herself Prila along with Angelica. Prila was sitting in a wheelchair, and the strange flight suit she’d been wearing had been replaced by a coat that looked way too large for her slender body, which meant one of the adventurers must’ve wrapped it around her. With a smile, Angelica pushed her inside and wheeled her over to the table. Then she went to the corner of the room, retrieved another chair, and plopped herself down on it right next to Zach so that all six of them were seated together.
Now, with all eyes on Prila, the woman stared back at them with a sort of nervous determination that could clearly be discerned in her voice as she spoke. There was also a sense of exhaustion, too, but she looked to be fighting it.
“I heard a bit about…about what you were saying to Zach just now,” Prila said to Mr. Oren. “Actually, I heard almost all of it.”
“Wow, were you spying on us?” Zach asked. He chuckled. “Old habits die hard, I guess.” Kalana shot him a look of warning, and he rolled his eyes at her. “Relax, Kal, it was a joke.”
“I’m sorry if it seemed like I was spying just now. It wasn’t my intention. Angelica and I had been on our way to enter together, but right before we did, she parked me outside the room and ran back to the tavern to break up a fight. I should have announced myself sooner. I apologize.”
Prila took a moment to look upon each of them, but eventually, her gaze settled and remained on Mr. Oren, who stared back at her with neither a glare nor any other form of recognizable expression as he took her in. His face was essentially blank, and Zach had no idea what was going through his mind. Prila, for her part, was regarding Mr. Oren with a look of pain, which seemed to grow the longer she locked eyes with him. Zach did not think it was due to her injuries, either, as she likely wouldn’t feel those for at least a few more hours, which tended to be how things were after an extensive surgery.
For a moment that went on too long, Mr. Oren and Prila continued to stare at one another. And just when it seemed like it’d turn from awkward to outright uncomfortable, she finally took her eyes off him and instead set her attention on Zach.
“You saved my life,” she said, gratitude plain in her voice. “I wanted to thank you. And in a way, I guess that makes us even now.”
“Huh?”
She smiled at him. “This morning, you were in B6, and you were running with your friends as fast as you could to escape Queen Vayra. Did you…notice anything strange?”
Zach thought back to what she was referring to, and then he gasped and snapped his fingers at the same time. “The Eeps! That was you?”
“It was,” Prila said.
Kalana looked at him questioningly, and he briefly recounted to her how her mother and her mother’s dog had come so, so close to killing him right before he made it back to Galterra. But then an entire swarm of Eeps had shown up out of nowhere and had formed a sort-of “mob wall” that had begun absorbing all the attacks being sent their way.
“Wow, I knew that couldn’t have just been luck. I even remember thinking that at the time. So, that was you all the way up there helping me out? Thank you for that, really. But uh…just out of curiosity, how come you didn’t keep them there a bit longer? The Eeps scattered way too soon, and then Fylwen almost got us.”
Prila frowned. “It’s because I got caught by Adamus. He made me undo it and then started chewing me out for ‘interfering.’ It’s something he really doesn’t like.”
“So I’ve heard,” Zach said to her. At the same time, Angelica quivered with what he took to be anger, and for a micro-second, her name flashed red.
Now that he knew Prila had been the one to summon those Eeps, it naturally caused Zach to think up about a billion questions for her about dungeons and how they worked and what she had the ability to do to them. Yet, he knew that wasn’t why they were all here, and so it became another topic of conversation he realized he’d have to shelve for now.
“There’s so much I don’t know,” he said, “and there’s so much I hope I get the chance to ask you. But we all agreed before you got here that we’d let Mr. Oren lead the discussion. But before he does, uh, if it’s okay, can I please just ask you one question first, Prila?”
“Of course you can.”
“Have you been watching me this entire time?”
“Yes,” she said. “Since the day you found the spawn point, I’ve kept a close eye on you. And not just me, either. Everyone at OMP Station 9 has. You’ve got a really big fanbase up there, Zach. You’re also the reason I’m even here at all.”
“I am?”
She nodded. “People who do what I do, we…we tend to become numb after working at the OMP awhile. Most of us go through the same cycle when we first join. We recruit adventurers, we follow their progress, we get emotionally attached to them, and then very often, we watch them die. It’s an inevitable pattern that leads to apathy and emptiness. I thought I’d lost the ability to feel anything at all until you came along. Watching you struggle again and again and keep on going no matter how many times you almost die—or do die—made me realize there’s so much more I could be doing to help people than watching uselessly through the viewing screen on my terminal as one tragedy after the next takes place.”
Zach wet his lips. “I think…I kind of understand what you’re saying. But at the same time, there’s a lot I don’t get. I hope I can talk to you about it later.”
“As much as I’d love to answer your questions, Zach, I don’t know if we’ll be able to do that, I’m afraid. As it is, I’ve been gone from my crew too long. I need to get back before they—or Adamus—gets suspicious.”
Upon her words, Angelica leaned over in her chair, put her arm on Prila’s shoulder, and gave the woman a sad, consoling look. “Did you come here thinking you could talk to us and then ya could just go right on back to the OMP after you were done?”
Prila tilted her head slightly. “Well…yes. There’s a lot of good I can do from the OMP, and I covered all my tracks. Adamus will have no idea I was ever here.”
Angelica sighed. “He knows you are here, sweetie. He probably knew you’d be here even before you knew you’d be here.”
Prila’s face flashed with alarm. “That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not.”
“He let me come down here. If he’d had any idea of my plans whatsoever, then why would he…” She covered her mouth, her hand trembling over her lips, and a look of understanding came over her.
“You get it, don’t you?” Angelica asked. “It’s his philosophy. He’s so against interfering that he won’t even interfere against people who plan to betray him. The only exception he makes is for other Great Ones. But uh…aside from that, in his eyes, the moment you made the decision to come here, you became what he’d call a ‘participant in the system,’ and from then on, it’s against everything he believes in to stop you from taking whatever actions you want to take. There’s no chance you’ll ever be allowed to return to the OMP again, though. That life is over now. I’m sorry.”
“But it’s my home. It’s all I have.”
“You’ll start again. You can always stay here with me! I won’t charge you any points. Even if Adamus threatens me.”
Zach recognized the mask of denial that Prila now wore, as it was one that he himself had donned time and time again over a number of painful truths. “Maybe…maybe if I apologize, he’ll—”
“He won’t,” Angelica said, cutting her off. “You’ll never be allowed back. Uh, but don’t worry, because he also won’t seek any retribution or try to harm you, either.”
“I know he won’t,” Prila whispered. “That’s the sense I always got from him. He’s truly not a violent man. Yet, at the same time, I’m slowly coming to realize he’s also likely the greatest mass-murderer in history.”
“That’s a really weird combination,” Zach said, becoming very fascinated and intrigued with each detail he learned about this Adamus guy. Even more questions popped into his head. Yet before he could ask a single one of them, Mr. Oren cleared his throat, and then Zach bowed his head apologetically. “Okay, sorry. I’ve said enough. Mr. Oren’s going to take over now. That’s why I brought him here, anyway. I’ll just get us off topic.”
Both Prila and Mr. Oren turned slightly in their chairs so that they faced one another, though in Prila’s case, Angelica needed to assist her. And now, with mutual regard, each observed the other with eerily calm, relaxed expressions, and both had their hands folded on top of the table; the two of them were also sitting with fairly professional-looking postures. If Zach hadn’t known any better, he’d have thought they were two colleagues attending a business meeting.
“I’m sure you already know this,” Mr. Oren began, “but my name is Alex Oren. I’m an adventurer with the God Slayers Guild. May I know who you are?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, her tone at once both enthusiastic and apologetic. “My name is Prila Khatunara.”
Despite clearly feeling some animosity towards this woman, Mr. Oren extended his hand across the table, and she leaned forward and took it. The two of them shook. “Given how much we’ve learned and how much there is to understand, I suppose it would be most helpful if we started with some basics, and then once we’ve arrived at a competent-enough level of understanding, we can get into why you’ve come down to Galterra. Is that okay with you, Miss Khatunara?”
“Absolutely, yes,” she said, her tone eager. “I’ve come here to do anything it’s even possible for me to do to help you all. I will answer any questions, and I will keep no secrets. If you ask me something and I know the answer, I will tell you.”
Mr. Oren smiled, and Zach couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. Logically, it couldn’t have been. But at the same time, it didn’t look fake at all. Maybe it was a mixture of both. Who knew? At any rate, Mr. Oren poured himself a glass of water, took a sip, and then inquired if Prila would like anything before they began. She declined.
“So,” Mr. Oren began, “starting with the most basic of things. If I’m understanding things correctly, everything that involves leveling or adventuring is all part of a system created by the Great Ones. A system that you work to uphold from a space station in orbit around Galterra. Is this correct?”
“Yes. That is correct. Although mine is only one of numerous stations.”
Mr. Oren nodded. “Okay, great. So, you work at this monitoring platform, and your job, as I understand it, is to recruit people into being adventurers by providing us with the buff that allows us to enter dungeons, as well as guiding us to spawn points. The first thing I’d like to know is how you do that. How do you guide us to spawn points?”
Despite claiming she’d answer any questions, a look of hesitance came over her, and her mouth began to twitch as though she was struggling with the idea of whether or not to answer. “I…I…so the thing is…”
Mr. Oren held up his hand. “Let me assure you of something in order to make this conversation much easier and more pleasant. I’m not here to be the moral arbiter of anything you’ve done. I’ve come here to learn what you know so that we can use it for good and better understand the nature of things. That’s what you want too, right?”
“Yes.”
“So then please: don’t hesitate to tell us what you know. I’m not going to judge you.”
“But how can you not?” she asked him. “You must hate me. You must resent me for what I’ve done to mislead you.”
“Are you sorry for what you’ve done?” he asked her.
She nodded immediately. “Yes,” she said. “Very much.”
“And are you here to do the right thing?”
“Yes!”
“Then I neither hate nor resent you, Miss Khatunara. And I forgive you.”
She inhaled sharply and lowered her head as though both shocked and grateful at the same time. “Thank you.”
“Now, with that out of the way, let’s get back to it. How do you help us find the spawn points? Or actually…forgive me, but I have a question to ask even before that. How do you determine who to select for the buff? How do you determine which people to pull into the world of adventuring?”
Prila took a breath, and while Zach couldn’t be sure, he had the impression she was very nervous right now and in a bit of shock. It was just the way she kept looking back between him and Mr. Oren, two people she had been watching—and for a very long time, in the case of Mr. Oren. For this reason, she must have been struggling to take in the fact that she was actually here with them right now. Or at least, that was how Zach would feel if he were in her shoes.
“The answer to both of those questions is very similar,” she said. “In both cases, the mechanism is the same. All over Galterra, there are self-replicating, microscopic nanobots. They’re in the air we breathe, and they’re not much larger than subatomic particles, so you won’t be to see them with your microscope. These nanobots are constantly taking skin samples and collecting other types of data on anyone they come across, and this data is beamed up to the OMP stations. As a recruiter, my job is to sort through much of this data and examine the biometrics and genetic data to pick what we call ‘winners’ from the gigantic amount of data we collect every single day.”
“I see,” Mr. Oren said, adjusting the bridge of his glasses with his forefinger. “And when a suitable candidate comes to your attention?”
“Depending on several factors, I add them to one of three groups: possible, likely, and current. Possible candidates I keep an eye on, likely candidates I keep an even closer eye on, and current candidates are the ones I have decided to begin acting on.”
“So,” Mr. Oren continued, and now, he pointed a finger first at himself and then at Zach. “In the case of myself and Zach, how did this process take place? Were we just names that happened to cross your terminal one day?”
“That is correct,” she said. “I have a reputation for being one of the greatest recruiters at my OMP station. I pick only the candidates I believe are the best of the best.”
Donovan grunted. “So I’m guessing you recruited me too, huh?”
She lowered her head apologetically. “No. I wasn’t working there when you were recruited, Mister Iseldar. I don’t know which agent recruited you.”
Mr. Oren flashed Donovan a look of annoyance for the interruption, and Donovan chuckled to himself. “Getting back on topic,” he said. “How were Zach and I recruited?”
“As you suspect,” she replied, “it begins with me looking at random datasets. Both of you are people I found simply by looking completely at random. And both of you immediately went into the current file. The same for Kalana.”
“Yes!” she cried out, her voice loud and sudden amid the quiet room, causing Zach to become startled and flinch. Then she made a nervous, awkward “eek” sound. “Sorry,” she said. “I was just happy ‘cause I was worried I would’ve been put in possible or likely. I didn’t wanna be in the bad groups!”
Zach picked up her hand, moved it close to his mouth, and kissed the back of it. Then he gently and idly began giving her a neck massage as he continued to listen to Prila and Mr. Oren’s conversation.
“I guess now we can move on to my next question, which was originally my first question: how do you lead us to the spawn points? We already know that everyone who gets the buff is destined to find a spawn point. That much, adventurers have managed to deduce all on our own. But none of us have ever understood how.”
Once more, the look of shame came over her, just as it had earlier when Mr. Oren had originally asked this question. “The answer is very unflattering,” she said. “And it paints me in a bad light. Actually…there are a number of things that will.”
“That’s okay,” Mr. Oren said. “Like I said, with everything going on right now, I don’t have the time or energy to morally judge you even if I wanted to.”
“I know,” she whispered. And now, out of nowhere, she shed a tear. First one. Then two. Then before Zach realized what was happening or why, Prila began sobbing uncontrollably. “I didn’t realize until finally sitting here in front of you all how bad I would come across when I finally answered your questions. And it’s only a matter of time before you ask about the dragon.”
“Are you all right?” Mr. Oren asked. “I apologize if my tone came across as harsh or—”
“N-no,” she said, wiping her eyes. Her look of shame and agony seemed to multiply. “It’s not that. It’s just…I can’t…” She again began to weep. Zach was confused.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I can’t make this…this feeling in my heart go away.”
“What feeling?”
“That I’ll never be forgiven.”
“What do you need to be forgiven for?” Mr. Oren asked her. It was the question Zach had been about to ask.
“For knowing that the dragon was going to spawn and not warning anyone. For letting it happen.”
“Wait, you knew?” Zach asked her. “Before it happened? Did we just hear that right?”
“Thanks for the head’s up,” Donovan growled. “Seriously, that’s fucked up, lady. You knew, and you just let that thing kill all those people? All those children?”
“You knew?” Mr. Oren asked with a gasp. “You knew what was going to happen?”
“I did,” she said, her voice breaking. “We know the timers on every boss spawn and where and when they will spawn.”
Zach clenched his hand into a fist. “Why did you let it happen?” he asked her. Then he scowled. “Do you know what that fucking thing did to—”
“Zach, stop!” Angelica shouted, surprising him. “All of you. Stop it right now!” She got out of her seat, her name briefly flashing red. Then she walked over and wrapped her arms around the woman. “You don’t know what it’s like to work under Adamus. You don’t understand the pain of being told you’re not allowed to do what you feel is right. That’s what happened, isn’t it?” she asked Prila. “You wanted to do something, didn’t you? It’s written all over your heart.”
“Yes!” Prila shouted. “I wanted to! I argued with him day after day, hour after hour. I begged him to let me help them. To help you, Zach. I wanted to warn you. He wouldn’t let me. Even though I’m just a normal, level-1 woman who is an insect to him, Adamus would stand by my side and argue with me for hours and hours. Sometimes it would get to the point where I would almost yell at him. But he never changed his mind on anything. I tried to fix things from within. I failed. I am sorry.”
Zach’s anger died down immediately. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. Now, he was the one feeling a bit of shame. “I just…I got really hurt, and Ziragoth gave me some…some jitters I’m still trying to get over.”
Angelica let go of Prila then returned to her seat, but not before glaring at all of them—well, all of them except Kalana. The two appeared to have become allies somehow. They were like teammates. Because Kalana was also now glaring at him, Donovan, and Mr. Oren.
“Stop being mean to Prila,” Kalana demanded. “You dunno what her story is or what her struggles are, so you don’t get to make comments. You too, Donovan. That was mean and you should say sorry.”
“Ah…sorry,” Donovan said.
“I apologize as well,” Mr. Oren said. “I just find it hard to understand how—”
“Because I believed he was a God,” Prila said, interrupting him. “He only appears for yearly-stretches every few decades. Then he vanishes. I had spent ten years believing him to be an actual God with a Godly understanding of right and wrong. But…but he’s not. He’s just a really powerful man whose views are flawed and whose system has failed the people who live under it.”
Kalana looked saddened to hear this. “Is that really true, Prila? He’s not a God?”
Prila looked at her. “He’s not. I know that is hard for you to hear. I used to believe he was the same as you do, Kalana. If you were only to meet him, you’d know that he’s not a God or anything close to one. He does not understand that Galterra today is different from Galterra three-thousand years ago. The people who live today do not understand why their children were killed by a dragon.”
Kalana lowered her eyes as if in thought, and if she had anything to say in reply, she did not voice it. Once more clearing his throat, Mr. Oren attempted to steer the conversation back on track. “Continuing where we left off,” he said, “let’s once more try to address the way in which you led adventurers to spawn points. I can tell this question makes you very, very uncomfortable, because twice now, you’ve deflected, perhaps even subconsciously, instead of answering. Please, Miss Khatunara. It’s important we understand.”
“Okay,” she said, wiping her eyes. Then she sat up straighter. “It’s just…it’s really going to make me come across terribly.”
“Continuing to abet wickedness will do that,” Mr. Oren said, fixing her with a hard, yet eerily compassionate look. “Tell us the truth. How is it that everyone with the buff eventually stumbles upon a spawn point?”
She drew a slow breath, then nodded. “We use the nanobots.”
“In what manner?” Mr. Oren asked.
“To…to emotionally manipulate, but subtly. Every agent comes up with their own way of doing it. It’s as much an art as it is a technical skill, as terrible as that is to say. You, for example, you found your first spawn point all those years ago while walking home from school one week after the death of your mother, right?”
Mr. Oren’s mouth parted slightly, then he nodded. “That’s right.”
“It was a smell, right? You thought you smelled your mother’s perfume coming from an abandoned, burned-down cabin two miles from your home. It made you want to enter it and see what was inside.”
Mr. Oren’s face tightened, but his voice remained calm. “I’ve…I’ve never told that to anyone.”
“I made the nanobots trigger that sense. So that you would go inside the cabin and investigate what was beneath the fireplace.”
Mr. Oren closed his eyes a moment. “That’s…that’s incredibly manipulative.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I do forgive you,” he said. “Even still, that was an awful thing to do. Because of what you did, I spent my life from that point on believing a higher-power had chosen me. I thought…” Mr. Oren’s voice softened, and though he clearly tried to conceal it, Zach could distinctly hear a note of pain enter into his voice. “I thought my mother…I thought she was sending me a message from whatever comes after death.”
“I’m sorry, Alex. I really am. I only did what…no, that’s not an excuse. There is no excuse. I am truly sorry.”
Zach swallowed nervously. “What about me and Kal? What’d you do to convince me to run across that unstable ground with Kal like some kind of fucking idiot?”
Prila winced. “Ah…”
“What?” Zach asked. “It’s okay. I’ll forgive you just like Mr. Oren did. How did you trick me?”
“I…I didn’t.”
“Huh?”
“I was trying to think of a way to get you to take the risk of cutting across that unstable ground to get to school on time. But I couldn’t come up with anything. No matter what I thought up, I didn’t think it would be enough to actually convince you to do something suicidal like that. But then…then you did it anyway, all on your own, without me having to manipulate you into it.”
Zach croaked. “Bullshit!”
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid you really are responsible for that decision all on your own.”
Kal folded her arms and glared at him. “Look at you, trying to blame other people for your dumb decisions.”
“She’s clearly lying, Kal. There’s no way I could ever actually be that dumb. She obviously used her computer magic to force us both to do it.”
“I did not,” Prila insisted.
“I believe you,” Kalana said.
“So do I,” Angelica added.
Zach threw out his arms in outrage. “Okay, seriously, what’s going on with this team-up bullshit with you two? This is getting on my nerves now. Angelica used to always be pro-Zach until I brought you here, Kal. I demand proof that no one is nano-botting her to be automatically against me.”
Kalana stared directly at him with an accusatory look. “Zach, you better not start using this as an excuse every time you do something bad,” she said. “I can already see you blaming things on nanobots now.”
“I can too,” Angelica said. “Don’t let him get away with it, Kalana.”
“Oh, I won’t.”
“Seriously, why the fuck are you two teaming up against me? It’s nanobots. It’s definitely nanobots.”
“I assure you,” Prila said, “I am not using—”
“He knows,” Kalana fired in. “He’s being a jerk. Whenever he gets put on the spot, Zach gets all mean and facetious and stuff. This is just how he is. He’s acting out. And now he’s mad at me for telling you all how he operates.”
“It’s good that ya hold him to account,” Angelica said.
Zach waved off the both of them. “This is some fucking—”
“Zach, will you please watch your language,” Mr. Oren said with a frown. “I’ve asked you this so many times recently. I’d appreciate it if you would ease up on the swearing.”
“But Donovan curses all the time.”
“Fuck yeah I do,” he said, barking out a laugh.
“Donovan is an adult. You are not. Please dial it down a notch or two.”
“Sorry, Mr. Oren.”
“That’s all right, my man. Just please at least make an attempt.” Mr. Oren returned his attention to Prila. “I have to ask: are these nanobots ever used to manipulate people outside of finding the spawn points?”
At this, she gave a firm, certain shake of her head. “Absolutely not,” she said, her tone implying there was no doubt at all in her words. “Adamus would consider that interference. Other than the Will of the Favored, a buff he created for a reason I still don’t understand, Adamus despises the idea of taking free will away from others or controlling their actions. I’m surprised he even allows us to use the nanobots for recruitment. Even then, there are rules to how we can use them.”
“Rules?” Mr. Oren asked.
“Yes. We can’t coerce anyone into anything, and we can’t make people see things or hear words. We’re only allowed to give subtle little nods to draw someone’s attention in a certain direction. We can’t alter how people think—though I don’t even know if that’s possible to begin with—and we’re not allowed to use lies or outright deception. It’s really just the triggering of brief, fleeting sensations such as smells and non-verbal sounds.”
Mr. Oren whispered something to Donovan that Zach could not hear, and then Donovan whispered something back. After a moment, the two nodded at one another, and in unison, they both set their eyes back on Prila, who looked back at them while fidgeting slightly in her seat as though nervous.
“I think we have the basics of who you are and what you do pretty well understood now. Before we finally move on to the reason you’ve come down here, I just want to confirm this with you one last time. Your name is Prila Khatunara, you worked at the OMP with Adamus Vayra, and using…I’ll be charitable and call it light manipulation techniques, you recruit adventurers by giving them the buff and helping them find spawn points. And you’re here with us right now because you’ve become disillusioned with his way of doing things. Is all that correct?”
“Yes.”
Leaning forward in his seat, an intensity now in his eyes, he said, “And the reason you came down here to Galterra—the reason you risked your life to be here—I am willing to guess it was to warn us about the World Eater. Is that right?”
She met his eyes, unblinking. And when she responded, an explosion of confusion went off in Zach’s head. “What?” she asked, “What’s the World Eater?”
An incredibly uneasy moment of silence fell over all of them, including even Angelica. Each of them exchanged glances with each other, as though they were all searching for some idea of what was going on here.
“That’s…not why you’ve come?” Kalana asked her. “You’re not here to tell us the World Eater spawns in five years?”
“The what?” Prila asked.
“The…how don’t you know?” Kalana asked. “You said you know all the boss spawns.”
“I do, but I’ve never heard of a ‘World Eater.’ What makes you think something with that name will spawn? There’s certainly no record of it that I am aware of.”
Kalana turned her head to look at Angelica. “How can she not know? Do you have any ideas?”
“I might,” Angelica said. She scrunched up her lips a moment as if in thought. Then she said, “Regarding a term that was used in this conversation that I can’t say, if I were to guess why Prila doesn’t, uh, know this term, it’s probably ‘cause Adamus doesn’t even trust his own people with that information. He probably thinks if they knew about—insert unspecified thing that was mentioned before—even his most loyal followers would have second thoughts about keeping it a secret.”
“Keeping what a secret?” Prila asked. “Can somebody please fill me in?”
The look of horror on her face when Zach explained to her what he knew told him that she was not being deceptive and really had never heard of the World Eater before. “So if you walked out that door right now, Zach…?”
“I wouldn’t remember it,” he said. “I’d forget in seconds.”
“Only you?” Prila asked.
“Yeah,” he grumbled. “It’s bullshit—ahh, sorry, I mean ‘bull-poo.’ I’m going to be so mad when I ask what I forgot later and no one tells me.”
“But won’t you know why we can’t tell you?” Mr. Oren asked him. “That alone should make you not want to ask.”
Zach laughed. “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend like you’re so different. If I told you right now that I’m going to cast a spell on you that makes you forget something but not tell you what it is, it’d drive you crazy.”
“Of course it would,” Mr. Oren admitted. Zach opened his mouth to declare victory, but Mr. Oren raised his pointer finger and shut him down before he could do so. “I still wouldn’t ask, however, as I’d understand the significance of not knowing.”
“Well, you’re actually in luck, Zach,” Angelica said.
“I am? Why?”
“Because I think I know how to break the hold he has on you.”
Zach let out a cheer. “No way? Seriously?”
She smiled. “I’m actually pretty sure of it. You won’t forget ever again. While you were running back to get your friends, I did a little digging, and I think there’s a very simple remedy that involves, believe it or not, household ingredients.”
“Wow, great,” Zach said. “Let’s do it right away. I can’t stand not being able to—”
“Wait!” Mr. Oren shouted, his tone urgent. “Do not do that.”
“Why the f…why the heck not?” Zach asked. “What gives?”
Mr. Oren sighed. “I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but I can’t let you do that, Zach. It’s a small sacrifice you’re going to need to make for the greater good.”
“But why?” Kalana asked.
“Yeah, why the hell not?” Donovan also inquired.
Mr. Oren lifted his hand and pointed at the ceiling. “Now that we know there’s a monitoring platform that’s, well, monitoring us, it stands to reason that if Zach is somehow able to remember the World Eater for a prolonged period of time, this ‘Adamus’ fellow will realize that his secret is out. And given everything we’ve heard now from two different witnesses: Angelica and Prila, I would strongly recommend that, from this point forward, we begin acting as though Adamus is a hostile enemy and someone that we need to consider an adversary. For this reason, we cannot let him know what we know. He must think he’s still in control and pulling the strings.”
Prila raised her finger as if to interject. “I think you all might be overestimating things, a bit.”
Mr. Oren sat up straighter and asked, “How so?”
“You’re all acting like if you speak about these topics while not in this room, Adamus will somehow know. It doesn’t actually work like that. If it did, I wouldn’t be here right now, as I didn’t even know about this room, and I fully intended to return after speaking with you.”
“That’s…a good point,” Mr. Oren said. “But from what Zach and Kalana told me, I was under the impression that we could only speak of these matters in this room or else it was a virtual certainty we’d be exposed.”
“No, not at all,” Prila said. “We only have the ability to listen in while you’re in a dungeon. While out and about in Galterra, we have visual only, not audio. So you don’t actually have to—”
“I’m sorry, Prila, but you’re wrong,” Angelica said. “If they mention anything outside of this room, Adamus will know, and I will be deleted from existence.”
Prila shook her head ardently. “No, that’s not true. On this, I am correct. I spent ten years working at—”
“Station 9,” Angelica said, again cutting her off. “Sweetie, did ya ever visit stations 1, 5, and 7?”
“Of course not. Those aren’t operational.”
“They are. And they’re only used for one purpose: spying on Galterrans to find agents of Eilea Vayra, his wife. She and the people she influences are the only people Adamus will lift a finger to stop. Now that Eilea’s been secretly helping Zach, Adamus will include Zach, the GSG, and everyone in his orbit in his surveillance operation so that he can stay one step ahead of her.”
Prila rubbed her face as if exhausted. “At this point, I’ll take your word for it. I knew that we had enemies in Galterra led by the other Great One, but I was never told the extent of it.”
Zach coughed into his fist. “So…long story short. Do I get to remember or don’t I?”
“You don’t,” Kalana, Mr. Oren, and Donovan all said at the same time.
Zach sighed. “All right. I accept that.”
Of all things, Mr. Oren and Kalana actually seemed surprised by his lack of reluctance. But this was because, deep down, he realized that Mr. Oren was right. What was more: he needed to start behaving like an adult. He needed to learn to make sacrifices for the greater good outside of those he made in fits of passion, such as during his battle with Ziragoth. For once, he’d like to just go along with something without causing a fuss.
“If it’s in our best interest for me to keep forgetting the World Eater, I’ll do it. But I still need to go to Dragon Squire. I can’t be sure, but I think Eilea and the guy with the mask were trying to get me to understand that I have to be the one who goes.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Mr. Oren said. “We still have to deal with Ziragoth tomorrow morning first. After that, we’ll turn our attention to protecting Galterra from the World Eater.”
A brief moment of silence fell upon them all, and then it was Kalana who gave voice to the dreaded question that Zach knew they must have all now been wondering. “So, wait,” she said. “If you didn’t come here to warn us about the World Eater, what did you come to warn us about?”
“Oh, right, of course.” Her voice turned grim, and a determination immediately popped into her eyes. “The reason I came here was actually to warn Angelica specifically. I actually didn’t know you or Zach would be here—or any of you for that matter. But the reason I’m here right now is because last week I learned something terrible. And unlike with Ziragoth, this time around, I am determined to do the right thing. I’m going to make a difference for once.”
“What did you learn?” Mr. Oren asked. Zach felt his muscles tense. He had the feeling he was not going to like this.
“First, I need to ask: how many spawn points do you think are left in North Bastia?”
“I have no idea,” Mr. Oren said. “But based on what I’ve heard from other adventurers, my sense is that the vast majority of us seem to have been led to the same seven spawn points for the past few decades. Eight, if you count Zach’s, though that one was new to me. Maybe Zephyr knew of it, but I had no idea there was one right below us in Whispery Woods.”
Prila placed her palms flat on the table and leaned forward. “That’s because there wasn’t one, and you adventurers really did find the only seven spawn points left in the entire continent of North Bastia. At least, outside of those claimed by the political guilds. But for Galterra, a planet that had tens of millions: there were only seven open spawn points left in existence in North Bastia—until there were eight…”
“What are you trying to say?” Mr. Oren asked, his eyes widening
“Since it takes a minimum of two Great Ones to make the smallest possible system update, and since Adamus and his wife are mortal enemies, he hasn’t been able to do much for a really, really long time. But about two years ago, we were informed that a project he’d been working on for almost a thousand years had been completed. It’s a method he discovered of rebooting spawn points. It has thus far been tested only once: in the Whispery Woods region.”
“I…don’t believe it,” Mr. Oren whispered. “The spawn point Zach found was reset?”
“That’s right.”
“This is indeed very important,” he said, coming across as genuinely amazed and startled. “Thank you for telling us.”
“Oh, this isn’t the thing I came to tell you, actually. It’s just what you need to know in order for me to explain what comes next.” Once again, Zach tensed as she continued to speak. And this time, she said something that caused everyone to release an utterance of shock and alarm.
“One of the last arguments I ever had with Adamus was over what I am about to tell you. Adamus is planning to rejuvenate the spawn points. Not all at once, but in waves, beginning a few weeks from now. At the time, I told him myself I thought it was a good idea, at least until I found out that he’s not planning to rejuvenate the spawn points in empty, isolated areas where people won’t be killed.”
The tension in the room skyrocketed, and Mr. Oren, speaking loudly, shouted, “Where is he going to activate them?”
Prila grabbed the sides of her wheelchair as though for support, and she opened her eyes widely as she looked at all of them. “He’s going to activate them completely at random.”