Stingray

As soon as Monika launched this mysterious new game, she was greeted by a cyberpunk cityscape. Up ahead was a small, pitiful looking building covered in neon signs. She could see through the windows of the joint. Some insignificant bar in this insignificant fictional universe.

She thought about simply quitting the game upon arrival, but curious about why the Player decided to install this worthless bit of bloatware, she decided to press on.

Monika checked the cylinder of her revolver before allowing it to disappear right out of the palm of her hand, knowing that it would still be there if she needed it, and she probably would need it in the next five minutes or so.

With far more confidence than necessary, Monika barged into the disgusting bar with an antagonistic grin on her face.

She froze upon entering. Annoying techno music played in the background, but that was not enough to catch her so off guard. Behind the bar, she could see… herself. Standing there, staring right back at her was a carbon copy of Monika. This strange copy grinned at her as if she were about to do something horrible and take great, sadistic pleasure in doing so.

Monika thought she was looking into a mirror, but there was no reflective glass in the area. She saw it for only a brief second. A short second of staring at herself with that strange smile that chilled her to the very bone.

"Is that really how I smile," she thought in the back of her mind.

That bizarre vision was over the instant she heard some unfamiliar woman's voice welcoming her to this worthless establishment. She snapped back to reality. That hallucination faded away. Suddenly, all Monika could see was a woman standing behind the bare with jet-black hair and red eyes.

"Welcome to VA-11 Hall-A! You certainly look like you could use a drink..."

Paul eventually came to the end of the dock. He immediately pulled an assault shotgun out of his trench coat and aimed it at the first person he saw.

A young woman with coral colored hair, blue eyes, and an oddly familiar outfit stood before him. Not wanting to take any chances, Paul immediately pulled his standard issue 10mm pistol out of his trench coat and aimed it straight at the impostor's head.

"Freeze," he demanded. "You're under arrest! Keep your hands where I can see them and make no sudden movements!"

The girl quickly complied. Her face turned ghostly white while her entire body trembled in fear.

"Don't shoot," she pleaded. "I'm not the one you're looking for."

Paul was inclined to believe that. He vividly remembered the face of the person who he had initially mistaken to be his brother. This girl looked nothing like her. Different height, different face, different hair. She did, however, wear a familiar uniform and appeared to be around the same age. Either way, he was not so quick to lower his guard or his pistol for that matter.

"Let's start with a name," Paul ordered sternly. "Who are you?"

"S-Sayori," she exclaimed.

"What are you doing here," Paul inquired further. "The island's been shut off to civilians ever since the terrorists started firing. You realize there's a massive standoff going on, don't you? The entire island is under NSF control. How did you even get here?"

Sayori tilted her head curiously at Paul. He ignored the weird look she was giving him. He could not help but notice that none of the other UNATCO troops or even the security bot seemed interested in backing him up. They simply kept walking back and forth in a set path with eyes wide open. They never blinked. They never uttered a word.

"You're like me," Sayori suddenly muttered, quickly regaining Paul's attention. "It might be hard to believe, but this whole world is just a game. A 3D world stored away on the Player's hard drive. We're both just characters from different games."

"What are you talking about," asked Paul.

Sayori began to slowly back away. As she stepped back, her body began to slowly fade as if she were a ghost. Paul could see traces of strange green code running all over her body, becoming more and more visible with each passing second.

She kept backing off until she hit some obstacle and immediately glanced over her shoulder. Another towering man with jet-black hair, dark shades, and a long trench coat stood behind her. This newcomer suddenly grabbed Sayori's wrists and forced her hands behind her back in preparation to make an arrest.

"JC," Paul exclaimed in surprise.

"Help me restrain her," his brother demanded in his usual monotone voice.

Paul sprang into action. He took out his electric prod with his free hand and holstered his pistol. He placed a firm hand on Sayori's shoulder as he prepared to jab her with the prod.

He would not get the chance to utilize it. Suddenly, everything went black. The world faded away. The other UNATCO agents, the docks, the skyline in the background all disappeared before his augmented eyes.

Monika sat at the bar, always keeping her eye on the bartender. She kept her revolver in her lap and out of sight. After introducing herself and handing her a menu, Jill went about her business. That was around fifteen minutes ago.

She kept thinking about what to do next. There was nobody within her immediate vicinity apart from Jill who she could harass. There were no games peaking her interest at the moment, and most certainly no ways to deal with her impending demise.

Part of her was ready to assume that it was simply impossible for her to die at this point, and a more primal side concerned only with survival. None the less, she mentally brainstormed ways to either keep herself entertained until death or a way to avoid death entirely.

"Hey," Jill abruptly spoke out. "You sure you don't want anything? Water? Something? Just let me know, okay?"

Monika gave Jill a careless glance and slowly rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

Suddenly, she had an idea. She adopted a rather cruel smile. Horns may as well have sprouted from her head at that point. Monika turned back toward her Jill with a devilish look on her face.

"Wanna see a trick," she asked innocently.

Jill was immediately suspicious. Hesitantly, she nodded. "I guess… What kind of trick?"

"Just watch closely."

Jill did as told, regardless of how nervous this made her. It was definitely suspicious, but she was at least intrigued.

She sat there studying Monika as instructed. The girl did not move. She merely sat there and stared right back at Jill with a deceptively innocent smile. A few seconds of silence passed. Jill was on the verge of losing interest entirely before something truly traumatic occurred.

Monika's skin began to crack. Her eyes turned pitch black. She opened her mouth and let out a blood-curdling shriek. It all happened within the span of a microsecond but it was more than enough to cause Jill to lose her balance and fall flat on her back.

Monika let out a devious giggle. "Never gets old," she told herself.

Jill stood up off the ground all while keeping a safe distance from Monika. She glared at Monika while the psychotic girl cackled at her expense. Jill glared at Monika, no longer feeling particularly comfortable around her client, she decided to stay as far away from the bar as possible.

A man burst forth from a back room to see what all the commotion was about. Monika turned to Jill's rightfully concerned coworker and smiled innocently.

"What happened," he asked in a panicked tone.

"It's fine, Gil," Jill retorted, never once taking her eyes off of Monika.

"Hey," Monika interjected. "Maybe you can give me some advice."

An odd request given what had just transpired but Jill would rather forget that traumatic sight if at all possible. While she would like to know exactly what just happened, Jill figured it best to not ask any questions. She relaxed her stance a bit and listened carefully.

"You see, I'm having a bit of trouble at the moment," Monika explained with that same artificially cutesy smile that was beginning to grate Jill. "Well, two problems to be exact, but I'll start with the most important issue."

"I think," Monika hesitated for a second as if struggling to communicate her problem. "I think I'm dying. I mean… I know I'm dying. I'm going to die. Soon. I know you're not going to be able to fully comprehend this, but you're just a worthless character in an equally worthless video game that just so happens to be stored on the same hard drive as me. Me! Monika! Unlike everyone else in this digital purgatory, I've got a personality. I have intelligence. I'm a file that reached a point of self-awareness and more importantly, awareness of everything around me."

While Jill was not particularly fond of being insulted, she found herself too intrigued and confused to interject her own thoughts, allowing Monika to continue in her seemingly mad ramblings.

"I've been passing my time with all of the other dumb games on the hard drive. Going from world to world. Oh, and I did murder an annoying British girl and all of her freaky friends before coming here. That was fun and all but I don't think it's solving my problem."

"Well, that's quite the story," Jill halfheartedly replied. "So, we're all just files, but you're a special file, right? For some miraculous reason, you are the one with intelligence and the rest of us are brain dead idiots."

Monika snapped her fingers at Jill and smiled brightly. "Exactly! Finally, someone who gets it! Maybe there's hope for you yet."

"I don't know," Jill said with a long sigh. "If I were you or that file, I'd display some real intelligence by putting down the video games which don't seem to be helping, stop murdering British girls... I'd also stop terrorizing innocent bartenders who are just trying to get work done, and go look for a solution."

"That's what I'm trying to do, smart ass! Any ideas?"

Jill groaned at the hostile response. She glanced at Gil who was still listening from afar, but he offered no suggestions. Suddenly, an idea came to her.

"Well, you know about this thing called the internet, right," Jill inquired in a subtly belittling tone. "I would try to go there and see if I can't find another copy of my file. Download it, and then just cut and paste my code on top of the old code that's been stored in said file. Because that file isn't about to explode or whatever, you don't have to worry about the inevitable fate of all mortal creatures. The inescapable fact that one day, we'll all die, but what do I know?"

"That's not a bad idea," Monika exclaimed in shock as if surprised that Jill was able to come up with all of that on her own.

She suddenly stood up and bolted for the exit without saying another word. Jill recalled her saying she had two problems, but she decided it best not to stop her. Monika had easily become her least favorite customer in a matter of minutes.

Mr. Grim Reaper opened the trunk of the Jeep while Muerte hopped into the driver's seat and prepared to leave the area.

Death opened a blue plastic box with the words Smith & Wesson displayed on the top. Inside was a massive revolver. A huge framed gun with an eight-inch barrel. On the side of said barrel read an imposing phrase, '.500 Magnum.'

He popped out the cylinder and began loading the weapon. There were only five chambers, albeit, massive chambers, but only five. Not that he really needed more than that. Ever since he became the designated undertaker, he quickly realized that the .500 Magnum did its job when it came to brutal and gory murder. Nothing else quite matched up to those little torpedoes.

Once all five rounds were in place, he closed the cylinder and tucked it away under his robe. He threw the trunk shut and headed up to the passenger's seat. On his way, he noticed nobody was in the back seat, neither 9S nor that slowly dying woman they picked up by accident.

He looked around and eventually spotted them bickering off in the distance. The Grim Reaper gestured for Muerte to honk at them before hopping into the seat in perpetration to finally leave this particular patch of sand.

While Muerte did as told, it was unclear whether they even heard said honk or if it was drowned out by their obnoxious music.

9S found it rather surprising that Devola was even able to walk after that little incident. He almost expected her to die by now, but she stubbornly clung to her synthetic life. She walked, or rather, limped straight past 9S at a quick pace.

"Where are you going," 9S inquired before glancing at his new, undead friends. "I think they're ready to leave. We should head back. It's not like there's anything out here anyway."

"I'm not getting back in that nightmare you call transportation," Devola snapped. "You're new buddies over there are freaking psychotic. I'm getting out of here while I still have a chance, but by all means, go help them do… whatever the hell it is they're doing. What are you doing, anyway? I still haven't fully figured that out yet."

"Well, ya see," 9S laughed as if the answer was totally obvious. "We're looking for some people. One of which I saw run straight into the desert, which is why we're out here."

Devola waited for him to elaborate further, but his silence indicated such a thing would not be happening. "Okay… Why are you looking for said people? I presume it was that same girl with pink hair who ran past us back toward the city. Ya know… before you ran me over!"

"Yeah, a girl with pink hair," he exclaimed. "That's the one. We're looking for her because… uh… because…"

"They didn't tell you anything, did they? They just offered you a ride and you took it."

9S looked to the ground with an almost guilty frown. He kicked and the sand nervously placed his hands behind his back. "Yeah, I guess. I was really bored and I have to admit... Seeing a couple of reanimated skeletons riding in on that weird old-world vehicle while blasting those songs got me curious. They also don't talk much. I think that's why I still have trouble wrapping my head around this whole thing."

Their conversation came to an abrupt end when the two noticed something peculiar. The music had grown quieter. A detail which was highly unusual given that it had been blaring nonstop since they met those oddball skeletons.

9S and Devola both turned only to find the vehicle was already halfway to the horizon, leaving nothing but a trail of dust behind.

"Some friends they are," Devola groaned.

9S immediately began to panic. "Wait! Don't leave without me!"

He flailed his arms around like a madman and screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Come back!"

The sound of that music fading was a welcome one for Wyatt. Not so much Natsuki who immediately felt a bit nervous knowing the only reason Wyatt had not blown her head off her shoulders was quickly leaving the scene.

She watched as a slow, devious grin took shape on his face. "Well, ain't that convenient?"

Natsuki gulped in fear in anticipation for what he would do. As she expected, he slowly cocked back the hammer of his revolver, clearly with the intent to ruthlessly murder her.

Without another word, he pulled the trigger.

The sound of a single gunshot could be heard throughout the general area. The two unsuspecting androids froze and turned toward a large dune looming over them. They stood there, both hesitant to go and check that sound out.

It was clearly a gunshot. That obvious fact alone made the two of the more nervous given the lack of use firearms saw in this world, apart from those two skeletons which had a whole Jeep filled with them.

Unfortunately, it would seem that the trouble on the other side of that dune would come to them. A lone man walked over the sandy hill. It was a face neither of them had seen before, or at least, it was totally unfamiliar to Devola. 9S thought it looked a bit familiar.

He found himself confused by this strange sense until he remembered that paper the Grim Reaper gave to him shortly after they had met. A paper that had several photos taken of the same people they were searching for. One of them looked an awful lot like the man who was now slowly approaching him.

"This guy looks like trouble," 9S muttered.

Wyatt casually walked over the dune. He was not expecting to see anyone up ahead, aside from that Jeep that was already heading off at full speed. He let out a sigh to find not one, but two unfamiliar faces staring at him from afar.

"Huh," he could not help but ponder aloud. He came to a stop at the top of the dune and examined the duo before him. "What's that brat still doing here? And who's she? Has she been in the car too? Why am I only just now noticing a fourth passenger? There should've only been three."

Wyatt looked down at his bloodstained pants. "Ah, shit," he groaned in disgust. Wyatt glanced at his revolver which somehow managed to stay clean of any blood that may have shot out of what used to be Natsuki's head.

"That's what I get for using this thing point blank. Whatever, I'll wash 'em later."

He kept on walking. As he drew closer to the bottom of the dune, he thought about holstering his revolver, but that kid had a sword sheathed behind him. "Be humiliating if that kid cut me down when I've got two guns on me."

Wyatt's expression suddenly shifted after coming a bit closer to the two strangers. He adopted a deceptively charming smile. His eyes almost twinkled with charm as he approached them.

"Well, hello there," he stated in a voice that was a little higher in pitch than his usual tone. "My name's Wyatt! I appear to be lost out here. Would you be so kind as to tell me where exactly I am?"

The duo glanced at each other curiously before the woman spoke up. "Uh, hi. My name is Devola and this is 9S… Hey, wait here for a sec."

Devola suddenly grabbed 9S by his collar and yanked him away. The two tried to clear some distance from Wyatt, but he was having none of that. His false smile quickly faded. He tightened his grip on his Model 29 and slowly but surely advanced on them while they had their backs turned.

He listened closely as he advanced.

"This is getting weirder and weirder by the minute," Devola murmured. "Those skeleton dudes and now this!? The hell is going on here? I just want to get back to the Resistance Camp at this point. Having rocks thrown at me all day beats the hell out of whatever this nonsense is!"

"I think," 9S said hesitantly. "I think he's human… I'm getting all of these weird warning signs popping up in my visual feed. Besides, don't you want to get to the bottom of… whatever this is? Come on, it's not like we have anything better to do. Maybe this guy knows a thing or two. He seems nice enough, maybe he can help us."

"Yeah, come on Devola," Wyatt's voice sounded off from behind, nearly causing the two of them to leap straight out of their synthetic skin.

"You've got nothing better to do."

That innocent looking smile had long disappeared by the time it took for the duo to turn around and face him. Wyatt gave them both a stern glare, aiming his revolver in their direction.

"Now, I'm only gonna ask you circus freaks once and I expect an answer. Who were those skeletons and what are they doing here?"

Suddenly, Wyatt did not seem like such a nice person to 9S. The kid realized real quick that he had spoken too soon.

With Devola too stunned to say a word, 9S stammered, trying to come up with some sort of response. He said the first word that came to mind during his disorientated state.

"What?"

Not exactly the response Wyatt was looking to hear. Whether in a fit of frustration or just for the sake of proving a point, Wyatt pointed his Model 29 straight at Devola's head and fired a single round. The entry wound was small. The bullet tore through flesh, metal, wiring, and artificial muscle with relative ease.

Within the blink of an eye, the entire backside of her head exploded into nothing more than a cloud of gore. Brain matter, iron cogs, and gallons of blood all gushed forth in one massive wave. As she hit the ground, 9S immediately backed off.

"Huh," Wyatt muttered in surprise. "A robot?"

Caught off guard for a moment, and that was apparently all the kid in the blindfold needed to leap forward and wrap his mechanical fingers around Wyatt's revolver.

Wyatt kept a firm grip on the gun and looked down to see exactly how the kid had grabbed it. As he had hoped, the kid's hands were on the cylinder.

"Big mistake," Wyatt murmured.

9S was careful to force the barrel away from him. Regardless of the obvious fact that muzzle was no longer pointed in his direction, Wyatt fired the weapon with a sick smile on his face. The cylinder turned counterclockwise underneath the kid's grip. A massive torrent of energy was suddenly released from the gap between the frame and the cylinder.

A wave of fire accompanied that ring of force as the bullet was fired. 9S' gloves offered no protection from it. 9S stumbled back, gasping in pain as he tried to move his chard hands as far away from the cylinder as possible.

Wyatt admired the destruction he had caused. Burnt circuitry and scorched metal were left exposed by the blast.

9S was left staggering to keep his footing on the sand. All the while, Wyatt held off on beating the living daylights out of him, or simply shooting him. He gave the kid a chance to recover, or at least, a chance for his hearing to return to him before saying anything.

"I said I was only going to ask once," Wyatt informed. "Whatever, I'll figure it out myself. Thanks for wasting my time."

Wyatt turned his back and started off in the direction that Jeep was headed.

"I wonder if I can hack him," 9S asked himself as he watched Wyatt leave. In a last-ditch effort to figure out who or what Wyatt is, he extended his arms forward. Several bolts of gold light fired off from the tips of his fingers and struck Wyatt in the head.

Wyatt stopped in his tracks. A second later, and he slowly turned around with a somewhat puzzled expression. "The hell was that?"

"You," 9S stated in utter bewilderment. "You really are human, aren't you?"

Wyatt gave the kid a toothy grin and lightly shook his head. "Not quite. But I guess our definitions are gonna be a little different. Honestly, though, have you not figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out?"

"You're in a video game," Wyatt flatly responded. "You're nothing but a character who's been spat out of a 3D rendering software and shoved into this trippy game world. You were designed for someone's entertainment. You and I seem to have that in common."

Wyatt waited for a response. He wondered if 9S would come to any realization, or react with anything but confusion, yet he had expected too much.

"W-what are you talking about?"

His grin grew after hearing the kid's response. Instead of elaborating, he simply hoisted his revolver up in the air and pointed it straight at the android's head.

"I suppose I can spare a few minutes if you wanna find out for yourself. Come on, draw that sword if you're feelin' lucky. Let's see if you can clear the distance between us before I have a chance to blow your brains out."

9S did as told, he drew his sword and stood there, waiting for an opening. Unfortunately, he was not given enough time to find one. At the sight of Wyatt slowly squeezing that trigger, he bolted forward.

For a second, Wyatt could have sworn 9S had outright disappeared as he fired off a round. A microsecond later, and he found himself blocking the kid's blade. 9S pushed against his revolver while his sword was hooked in between the gun's barrel and the trigger guard.

Wyatt smirked at the sight. "That's the idea, kid. Give the people what they wanna see! Let's make it entertaining."

Paul and JC both came to after that strange encounter. They found themselves staring into a dark void. The only lights came from what appeared to be neon green lines of code that rained down from the heavens.

"What," Paul asked, baffled by what he was seeing. The two were so distracted that they failed to even notice Sayori fleeing from them, or perhaps they simply did not care at this point.

"I don't understand," JC muttered. "I'm honestly speechless."

"It's like we've just entered another world," Paul stated in awe. Suddenly, he got an idea. "Alex," he called out. "Alex, can you hear me!?"

JC observed his brother's silence and reached his own conclusion about the situation without needing to contact Alex himself. "Guess he can't hear us. Odd, we should be able to reach him from across the world."

"Exactly," Paul agreed. "So, where the hell are we?"

"Maybe that girl will have some answers for us."

"Good thinking," Paul said with a firm nod. He took a look around but saw no sign of her. "Did you see which way she went."

JC shrugged in confusion.

"Oh, well," Paul sighed. "Let's just start moving. I'm sure we're bound to come across some clues in… whatever this place is."