Disclaimer: All characters belong to NetEase. I'm merely trying to write here.
Helena frowns. Of all the things to upset her, why does it have to be a fight between Joseph and her? To her, they're a loving couple who always try to understand each other. Granted, they have their own disagreeable traits, but they don't let such differences get in the way of their love. But yesterday, their stubbornness got the better of them and she couldn't sleep right after the petty argument they had.
It was that time every other month when she was lagging so much and so often. She hates it when it happens—everyone does. But it doesn't stop her from playing the game, from trying to reach her goal. Hiding it from Joseph would have been a piece of cake if she wasn't such an open book. He tried to convince her to stop playing for a while, saying how seeing its full effect on her greatly disturbed him and he doesn't want that to happen to her again.
But Helena has a great cause: she's grinding hard to buy a gift—for Joseph. She couldn't tell him that, though, wanting to surprise him for once. Her concealment made it sound like she was simply being stubborn, wanting to play even if she'll 'suffer' for it.
Being temperamentally volatile, Joseph quickly got mad at her apparent lack of a reason. He must've been really upset about that time that he almost yelled at her, telling her to stop being headstrong for once. That made her angry, too, telling him off for being too stern at times. She's sure that someone heard their fight—no one greeted her this morning. She stopped it before things got worse, resolved to play even if she wouldn't be able to perform at her best. She could only imagine the sour expression on his face before he left without saying a word. Since then, she hadn't seen him, not even during breakfast and now she's getting worried.
Had she been too 'cruel' to make him worry that much? He can be a bit too dramatic and exaggerative, but that was the first time they had a real fight. Is buying an expensive limited-edition gift all worth it if they're just going to argue like this?
Sighing in exasperation, she pushes those worries behind. They just need a moment to cool off, then they'll be apologizing for upsetting each other, hopefully before the day ends. Neither one of them likes being without the other for too long. She hopes that he didn't forget to wear his S skin after they both agreed to coordinate their costumes; she wore hers, of course, even if it would just make her lag as well.
Helena gazes around the waiting table, finding the survivor sitting next to her in a sound slumber and the other two engaged in gossip with their pets frolicking on or under the table. Turning back to her corner, she notices Miniature Joseph sitting on the edge and studying the item in his hands. In lieu of his sword, he's holding a big card—almost as big as him. Curious and eager for a distraction, Dark Cake calls for him.
"Little Jo, what's that you're holding? Can I have it?"
The pet looks at her then at the item in his hold. His reluctance is obvious, but nonetheless, he saunters on the table towards her, handing it over with an expression between uncertainty and interest.
Helena inspects it with her limited vision and acute senses. The texture and scent remind her of a photograph—Joseph's photographs to be exact. She touches the smooth surface, finding a vivid outline of the oval vignette. In its center, there's an image embossed in clear lines—Joseph's portrait, undoubtedly.
"Did you steal this from Joseph's room, Little Jo?" she asks, puzzled that Joseph's pet counterpart of all people would try to steal a photograph of his. Mini Jo already has lots of pictures in his disposal, though not as big as this one.
The pet quickly shakes his head in denial, his hands behind his back as he retreats backward to the safety of the edge of the table. He peeks behind the tablecloth, eyes wide in anticipation.
Helena can only raise an eyebrow in confusion. Never had the miniature hunter behaved like this. She doesn't think he would lie, either, but if he didn't sneak in Joseph's room, then how did he get a hold of it? Did Joseph drop it somewhere and Mini Jo simply found it? Or could he have given it to her pet for some reason? Or maybe... Mini Jo did take it without permission, not knowing that it's called 'stealing'. It may be too vain of her to think (Joseph might've spoiled her a bit too much), but perhaps he decided that a picture of Joseph would cheer her up. He's probably confused on what to do or think, being caught red-handed.
With a reassuring smile, she beckons for him to come forward. "I'm not mad at you, Little Jo. But Joseph might be if you took this without his knowledge. You'd have to put this back where you got it, alright?"
Still clinging to the edge of the table, the little hunter nods timidly, not making a move to let go. It's rather odd; he quite easily complies to her requests. Is he feeling guilty for being found out when he wasn't even making an effort to hide it in the first place? It's times like this that she wishes pets could talk.
Her attention returns to the object at hand, studying it fully. It doesn't seem to be the photograph that the Photographer uses in battle. This one is a tad bigger and thicker. She can feel something special with the image; the others aren't as vivid as this one, having a sort of glow somehow. Then again, Joseph's portraits all have a special quality in them that sets them apart from ordinary pictures. Its design is simple enough as the others, though—no fancy markings decorate the vignette. Twirling it around to behold the portrait, she traces the lines creating the face engraved on the paper. With her dark vision and sensitive touch, she can see her dramatic dandy's handsome face smiling back at her, the simple image of him practically exuding charm and charisma.
The simple thought of his memory puts a smile on her face. He always has that effect on her, in photographic form or otherwise. Planting a soft kiss on the gentleman's lips, she whispers, "I love you, Joseph." Stroking his cheek, she continues as if it's not simply his image that she's talking to, "But I'm playing for a reason. You'll just have to wait and see."
Veering her attention back to the little hunter who has finally climbed up on the table, she hands the photograph, satisfied that it somehow alleviated her mood. "Don't forget to return it, okay?"
Mini Jo nods as he accepts the item, his curious eyes glued on it once more. Helena finds his attachment to the picture cute but rather strange. Pets can be hard to understand at times.
Helena's first few matches pass by in a blur. There are a few bumps in the way (like walking slower than usual a few times) but she hasn't truly lagged enough to the point of unconsciousness. It's not really something to be proud of, however. Things will only get worse sooner or later, but she will strive forward to continue.
Currently, she is running away from the Black Guard in Eversleeping Town. If she hasn't been slow a second ago, she would've been able to dodge that attack of his. But that's not what she should be worrying about now. She needs to get away somehow before lag fully takes over her body.
It won't take long, unfortunately; her legs are beginning to become numb now as the chase continues to the cemetery. She groans as the all-too familiar sensation of paralysis gradually overtakes her arms and then her legs. Tripping over a broken tombstone, Helena closes her eyes as she waits for either the full brunt of the lag or the hunter's weapon to strike her.
The former wins, completely taking away her mobility just as she attempts to lift her weight off the ground. The last thing she perceives is the sound of the hunter's chuckle as everything completely darkens...
It could've taken seconds or minutes—no one truly knows how long a trance of lag lasts.
To The Mind's Eye, it hardly matters as the only thing she'd come back to most of the time is a rocket chair flight back to the manor. It's not a good feeling but she's gotten used to it. It's finding herself still capacitated that is reason for surprise—just like now.
Blinking away the remnants of lag, Helena tries to believe her current state: not tied up on a rocket chair or incapacitated on the ground. She is still in the cemetery right where she remembers falling, lying down on her side. Worried Mini Jo looks up to meet her gaze, patting her hand while he holds the picture under his arm.
"What happened?" she asks dazedly to no one in particular, picking up her hat that somehow fell down from her head. Looking around, she finds the outlines of the hunter and two other survivors busying themselves in the second floor of the building at the center of town. The gears in her mind start turning again, churning out the most possible conclusion.
Did the hunter just suddenly leave her once she lagged?
It's not exactly an improbable possibility. Some hunters may even turn friendly after they realize that the survivor they're chasing is lagging. But, more often than not, they take every chance to catch and eliminate someone. Perhaps, Wu Chang intends to come back later for her, thinking that she's easy prey after realizing her predicament.
Helena doesn't like that; it gives her too much hope for an escape. Frankly, she'd rather be eliminated right away than be reserved for later when lag would be at its worst. It's rather cruel of the hunters to do that, and she wouldn't want to give them the satisfaction of catching her again as soon as the paralyzing aftershock comes for her.
Determined, Helena stands up and runs to a cipher, wanting to win more than ever.
The next matches go on as usual, all things lagging for her considered. The same thing happened more than twice: hunters just leave her when they're in the middle of chasing as lag strikes her. It's almost as if they avoid her when she's obviously 'reconnecting'—is this consideration on their part? Are they suddenly sympathetic to survivors' plight?
Dark Cake chuckles at the absurd wishful thought. Not everyone is kind. Though a simple gesture from a gentleman is enough to change her view of the world, it cannot change everybody in it. This show of leniency is probably borne out of pride and whimsy—something that all hunters share.
"Found you!"
Whipping her head to the sound, The Mind's Eye gasps as the Sculptor discovers her hiding spot and throws the chisel at her. The survivor quickly leaves the corner, throwing snowballs at the hunter in an attempt to hinder her. Dodging the sculptures rising up from the ground, she heads to the dark cold building. But once her foot lands on the stairwell, the onset of lag begins to assault her again.
She winces as a giant chess piece grazes her arm, but nonetheless keeps on running with Checkmate still hot on her trail. The broken ledge can give her an escape—that is, if she could somehow make the hunter fall without her joining in. Dark Cake inches closer to the open rail, but in her frenzy exacerbated by lag, she slips and falls down the ledge just as her vision starts to darken once more.
Yelping in surprise and disappointment, she surrenders to the inevitable, knowing that the child-like huntress isn't always keen in sparing survivors. The last thing she perceives is the figure of her pet running as fast as he could to meet her on the ground, raising the photograph high above his head...
Exhaling a chilly breath, Helena wakes up once more, her palms clutching a damp substance. How did snow get inside the building? is her first coherent thought. But now recovering her awareness, the cold floor of the establishment where she should've landed on is nowhere to be found. She is outside, lying down on the snowy ground under the snowy sky, right beside the dungeon.
Deep confusion instantly fills her. What in the world is happening? Did she teleport to the dungeon somehow? It doesn't make sense. She couldn't have run all the way here while lagging, that's too ridiculous!
Sitting up and gathering her hat and cane, she searches for her pet and finds him a few feet away. "Little Jo, what's going on? How did I end up here?"
Mini Jo, who has been busy making a snow sculpture of himself next to one bigger than him, visibly stiffens at the sound of her voice. He runs back to The Mind's Eye in a hurry, not forgetting to pick up the card sitting by a nearby rock. Helena can't wait for his reply however, (if there is going to be any) as her worry for her teammates diverts her attention. To her horror, she sees the last of them flying off before the dungeon's hatch opens.
"It's over..." she groans, covering her face in shame. She hasn't been in the least helpful to her teammates. Her nonparticipation may have been the reason for their downfall and she frowns at the thought that it's not only Joseph that she has upset. If she would only disappoint everyone with her lagging, then perhaps putting off grinding wouldn't hurt...
Her quickening heartbeat makes her head turn up as the pursuit music suddenly disturbs her thoughts. A suspiciously benign presence arrives behind her.
"Go now, sweetie," the hunter wheedles with a sweet voice, stopping at a distance just close enough for the light to shine on the survivor. "Before I change my mind."
The Mind's Eye hesitantly stands up on her feet, facing the hemiplegic hunter. So, the Sculptor merely decided to spare her by dropping her off to the dungeon before going after the others. Is that really what happened? It makes sense but at the same time, it doesn't. Something is just off. It's not just because she is not yet incapacitated—this whole pattern about the hunters' clemency just feels weird.
"Um…" The Mind's Eye starts to speak, steeling herself for a surprise attack in case she irks the hunter. Before she can decide whether she would still continue to play or not, she has to know what's happening first. Are the hunters simply being considerate to her? If yes, then why? This is not a series of coincidences—there is no such thing. "Can I ask one thing first: did you put me here?"
The diadem-wearing Sculptor tilts her head thoughtfully, spinning the chisel in her hand. The delay makes the survivor inch backward in anticipation. Is the hunter going to renege on her word? Checkmate's line of sight and the amusement in her eyes would have told Dark Cake otherwise, however.
"No, I didn't," Galatea finally replies, her voice kept even. "Now, go. I have matches to win," she bids with finality, turning away abruptly. In emphasis, she summons two sculptures that propel her wheelchair away from the blind woman's inquisitiveness.
"Wait!" Helena reaches for an explanation, but only finds the Sculptor completely out of sight. Hunters for all their unpredictability and imperiousness can be so frustrating.
"What's going on?" she asks to unseen ears, willing for an answer that's still evading her. Glancing down at her pet who's busy scrutinizing the portrait in his hands, she sighs. "I wish you could tell me what you know, Little Jo. Something weird is going on whenever I'm out." She can ask her former teammates about it, but it would be embarrassing to relive matches where she has almost no contribution. Besides, there's a small chance she could match with them again and even if they did, she wouldn't know if anyone of them even knew what's happening.
Mini Jo merely shrugs, pointing towards the open dungeon and pleading that they leave already.
Helena acquiesces to his silent entreaty, thankful that she has someone to remind her of what's important. "You're right. We better go. Galatea might chair me if she comes back."
Tasting the bitterness of dissatisfaction with the number of unanswered questions piling up in her head, Helena unenthusiastically jumps down the dark pit. A few moments ago, she was almost sure she'll stop playing. But with 'luck' or whatever this is on her side, her determination strengthens as her curiosity begs to be satiated. She needs to know what's happening the next time she lags.
Lakeside Village. The big map with the big boat. The map where everyone is bound to have experienced lag at some point. The map where she is currently in, lagging hard.
Dark Cake flinches as she almost misses the calibration mark. Lag is being obtuse right now, even when she is so far away from the action all by her lonesome. Usually, it only bothers her when she is near the hunter or her allies. It's such a pain when it decides to ruin even her decoding. Especially when going against hunters who can dash. Coupled with Teleport, those people are a pain to kite. There are some miraculous moments when kiting even with lag is possible but it's not something that one should put stock in.
The loud tolling of the bell announces the fall of the Mercenary at the hands of the Undead. Both the Wildling and the First Officer are in no better condition, having been downed earlier. The Mind's Eye tries her hardest to decode as fast as she could, wanting to finish two ciphers to at least open the dungeon. Her panic rises as the older men perish almost simultaneously, leaving only her and the Mercenary on the run.
As she finishes the cipher, her teammate's scream of pain makes her jump in terror. He won't last long and she can't reach him in time. Even if it guilts her every time, there's only one thing she can do in this situation—find the dungeon.
"Get out of here!" The directive pushes her forward as much as it pains her. The Mind's Eye hurries along the outskirts of the map to avoid detection as she searches for her elusive escape.
But unsurprisingly, the Undead somehow catches sight of her, dashing in unbelievable speed and hitting her with his great sword.
Adrenaline and desperation motivate her to continue searching for the dungeon, knowing that she can't do anything more for her teammate if she could somehow reach him now. She kites the hunter around the crates littering the map, all while keeping her ears peeled for the sound of the wind. If she could follow the wind while keeping distance from the pursuer, she could escape this nightmare.
But just like life, this game has plenty of disappointments to give. Just as she rounds the corner behind the big boulder, lagging meets her upfront, seizing her mobility and consciousness all at once. She doesn't even have the privilege to react—like the monster that it is, lag dashes both her hopes and fears as it drowns her into a paralyzing oblivion...
By some miracle, Helena's consciousness resurfaces once more, finding herself still stuck in that dark abyss. Or... not?
No, the feeling is rather different. Like she's confined in a small space surrounded by noise. Fearing for the worst, she numbly pounds against the invisible walls, hoping against hope that this is not her captor's hold or some scary cage lag imprisoned her in. But then she realizes that she is fully conscious and legitimately struggling—and the Undead cannot carry survivors. So...
Where am I?!
Before she can try to understand anything else, however, lag comes back to shut her efforts down, and she can only gulp in anxiety and confusion as she falls unconscious once more.
The next thing she discerns upon her revival is the gaping mouth of the dungeon's hatch in front of her. As her numbness ebbs away, her awareness of her current condition returns, something that shouldn't have surprised her in the least—lying flat on her stomach but not incapacitated.
For the umpteenth time that day, her eyes widen in utter disbelief. It happened again! How?!
Dark Cake quickly gets up on her feet, searching for the hunter which her erratically beating heart is warning her about. To her great horror, Conquer is standing right there, three-cipher-machines-length away.
The Mind's Eye swiftly turns towards the hatch, dreading the hunter's electrical shock or vertical assault. But instead of pouncing after her, the hunter stays in place, speaking in his deep calm voice, "Good game, Mind's Eye."
Helena halts in her jump, sensing the hunter's weird behavior and tone. Is this real? Is she being spared by the Undead, a hunter who is not known for mercy? Cautiously, she turns around to face him, hoping that this isn't a trick.
"Good game, sir," she replies hesitantly, her brows knitted. Stomping her candy cane on the ground, she sees the friendliness of his expression, his face sporting a small smile. Fresh questions barrage her. Wasn't he chasing her relentlessly just a moment ago? What changed his demeanor towards her?
Emboldened by his apparent amiability, she steps forward to hazard a question. "How did I get here, to the dungeon? You couldn't have carried me, right?"
The Undead's cordial smile changes into that of amusement. With a gruff but kind voice, he replies, "I cannot answer a question that shouldn't be meant for me. Perhaps you'll know from someone else, someone who's always with you."
"I... don't understand. Can't you tell me?" The Mind's Eye doesn't know what to think of these cryptic answers. First, the Sculptor, and now the Undead? If the same scenario had happened with the others, would they have given her the same unsatisfying response? Is he referring to Mini Jo? Helena looks at the pet in question, who is busy studying 'his' photograph.
Conquer chuckles in answer, turning towards the dim horizon of the ocean. "Go, miss. The day is almost over." Bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement, he bids farewell to the woman, "My regards to you and your husband."
Still very much in the dark about all this strangeness, Dark Cake can only nod in non-existent understanding. "Thank you, sir. Good luck on your matches."
Without further ado, she jumps down the dungeon, wanting to both understand this mystery and get away from it as soon as possible.
Sitting on her chair waiting for the next match, Helena ponders on the thought long and hard. Something strange is definitely going on. It's not simply because the hunters had pity on her and chose to leave her be. No, she can feel that it's much more than that.
It—whatever it is that gives the hunters reason to spare her—only happens when she lags as they chase her. Being unconscious, she has no idea whatever is going on around her—the perfect opportunity for anything to happen. Do her fellow survivors have a hand in this? Most likely not, as they weren't even present whenever she lags. Or if they were, they chose to keep mum about it. Are all the hunters conspiring 'against' her? Maybe. Galatea's and Percy's enigmatic replies are too similar to be coincidentally dismissive, and it all makes her think that they're hiding something from her. If anyone should know what happens in the game, it should be the hunters and they're purposefully hiding it from her. But why?
Percy may have hinted that Mini Jo knows something about this. But he can't talk and from his mannerisms, he seems just as clueless as her. Yet, as Helena gazes at his little jovial form bouncing up and down the vacant chair beside her, she cannot be sure if he's being 100% truthful, either. She doesn't want to try to force him to admit anything if there's no evidence of his complicity at all.
This mystery is giving her a headache. How she misses her lover's warming embrace, wishing that they didn't fight in the first place. He may be avoiding her for all she knows, still sore at the memory of her lagging problem and their petty fight, but she will be really angry at him if he doesn't show up yet.
She pauses that train of thought. Is Joseph a part of this mystery? Does he know what's going on with the hunters? Or perhaps, he has a role to play in all this? Did he do something outrageous like asking everyone to be considerate of her in a survival horror game? It doesn't seem all too impossible given his personality; after asking her fellow survivors about the hunters' behavior, they seem to point that it only applies to her. The idea is endearing, but would the hunters really acquiesce to such a request?
Whatever is going on, she has to see for herself. She needs a plan to know once and for all what is really happening behind the scenes. The day is almost over. This is her last match—and she will undoubtedly lag.