V. Anima & Persona
The apartment door swung shut with a slam.
His fist followed suit. One, two, three - each of the blows flung his disgust into the wood. His knuckles stuck upon the third, lodged against the grain by tense muscles. His breath came in puffs, heated with anger. Slowly, he raised his head, looking out from under a pinwheel's edge of brown bangs, staring into the door's panels from behind black sunglasses.
It had been a trial to keep it in. The conference room table, the steering wheel of his Nexus, the faces of his business associates - he had wanted to unload those punches into each of them. Those little worms... Did they think that this was funny? They intended to do it from the beginning; he was sure of it now. There was no reason to draw out the merger talks for three months. It was simply a publicity stunt - something to spur a jump in stock prices - and he was the frontman. No-one had sent a whisper to him about the truth. He had spent countless nights working out the details of this deal - and for what? To be used as a patsy by the executive board? Did they really think that they could get away with this?
That they could cross Shigeru Fukuda?
The young man turned away from the entrance, stamping across the floor of the posh flat with narrowed eyes. He took the first door that came into view, marching into his bedroom. His bed was not even afforded a glance; he tossed his briefcase to the side, onto it, without a thought. His frustration carried him into the adjoining room - his home office, which was furnished with a small desk, a leather chair, and short bookcases. He tugged at the knot of his tie several times, finally unraveling the red band of fabric as he flopped down into his chair. It hung limp around his neck, drifting slightly as he spun towards the black-cased laptop atop the desk.
His elbows met the varnished surface, and interlaced fingers met the underside of his nose. His eyes focused in on the brightly-lit monitor screen, on the image of a shadowy underground cave, on the numbers in the lower right corner.
6:14 PM. 12/20/2014.
"Tch..."
All that time wasted. At this rate, he would never get to the top. What was the point?
A sigh escaped his lips, accenting the silence. His eyes drifted down to the handle of a large desk drawer. Using his business shoes, he rolled the chair a short distance backwards, reaching down towards the silver arch. He gave it a slight tug, sliding the drawer open. His hands delved into its depths, retrieving a FMD (or Face-Mounted Display) from within.
Setting it atop his desk, he moved a hand up to his sunglasses, slipping them off his face. One of the earpieces folded inwards as it met his shoulder, and he flicked the other closed with the tips of his fingers. He held the flap of his suit's jacket open, carefully tucking the sunglasses into its inside pocket. Hazel irises met the gaming visor.
There was one redeeming aspect to the canceled 'merger': his workload would lighten for a while. Now he had time to put pleasure over business.
The transmission card met the wireless port. The visor found his eyes. He swept his fingers over the touchpad, sending the cursor to a familiar icon. A sword slid down from the top of the screen, clanking against a backdrop of burned parchment. The keyboard clicked with a memorized pattern.
Enter.
He left himself behind in the tunnel of psychedelic light. Twenties became forties, and a thin frame grew muscular and strong. The linings of business metamorphosed into metal. The edges of the briefcase grew serriform and sharp.
Lia Fail was just a moment away.
User: Lantus. Welcome to The World.
Boring.
There could be no other way to adequately describe this dungeon. The tunnels were a redundant maze of ochre brick and dirt floors. The creatures were far from vicious: it was rare for them to even mount an attack before his axe split them in two. The largest rooms - cavernous expanses lined with imposing columns and multiple portals - posed no challenge at all. At the very least, he had hoped to encounter a fellow PKer, to engage in a duel - but even that eluded him, for every single floor was devoid of players. The entire place was, quite simply, a slumber-inducing bore.
He had expected more from Omega Server. It was nothing like the stories passed down by players of old. He remembered a time when even the strongest parties would struggle to reach the lowest levels of these dungeons. They would recount tales of hordes of monsters, of gigantic bosses, of struggles between life and death - and now, here he was, soloing through the same areas without breaking a sweat. The dark, ominous halls were only shadows of their former selves.
He stifled a yawn as he descended a flight of stairs, heading down to the dungeon's fourth floor. This was the life of a max-level player, he supposed. There truly wasn't all that much to do once one reached the cap. The search for equipment was important, but a small variation in stats truly meant nothing against a sliver of player skill. PKing was another option, but most players tended to run at first sight of the dreaded '99', and killing the defenseless in mid-flight offered him little joy. That left two options: exploration and the advancement of wealth. Fortunately, those two often went hand-in-hand, and both, being hobbies in real life, were quite enjoyable to him.
He stepped onto the fourth floor, noting a small change in scenery. The ground here was comprised of grey stone, and the wall tiles had undergone a slight change in shape, though that was nothing out of the ordinary. He continued on, walking down the entrance hall. He took a right at the first junction, following the path to a small room.
His feet came to an abrupt halt.
At the other end of the room was a descending staircase - a passage down to the next floor.
He raised a bushy eyebrow. That certainly seemed strange. It was extremely rare to come across the entrance to a new floor so quickly, and doing so without encountering a single monster was practically unheard of. Perhaps it was a glitch in the map generation engine.
He continued onwards, adjusting the axe upon his shoulder as he strolled towards the staircase. His plated boots met the stone steps, clanking with each step downwards. Reaching the fifth floor, he walked out into the entrance hall.
And again, he came to a halt.
His eyes slid around the hall, giving it glances of suspicion - first to the right, then to the left, and then downwards.
Ochre bricks. Dirt floors. The same textures he had seen on the first three floors.
He turned his head, peering back over his shoulder. The staircase stared at him with a quiet stillness.
That way.
He turned around, heading back to the stone steps. After ascending to the previous floor, he made his way back to the junction. The uncharted passage became his target: he followed it with intrigue, taking hasty steps down the zigzags of the corridor. At the third turn, a stone archway came into view, marking the entrance to a room.
He passed through the archway with caution, his eyes scanning the room beyond. It was a small chamber, square and unremarkable. The yellow light of a monster portal was not present. No treasure chests could be found. There was absolutely nothing that set the area apart from any other.
That was his first impression - until he noticed two exceptions.
On the right wall, mixed in among the pattern of diamond-shaped stone, were two tiny orbs. One was yellow, and the other was blue.
Creases of curiosity appeared upon his brow. He walked over to the wall, stopping at arm's length. His eyes focused upon the twin jewels, examining them closely. They shone with a strange luster - a faint glow that, oddly enough, did not seem to give off any light.
Subconsciously, in a sort of trance, he reached out to the yellow jewel, tapping it with metal fingers.
Nothing happened.
His brow furrowed. He moved a gauntlet to his chin, staring at the jewels in contemplation. He certainly could not remove them; they were firmly ingrained into the stone. But what was their purpose? Why were they here? They did not appear to be switches, as he had thought. Could they simply be relics left over in the programming code?
His thoughts wandered through the possibilities. His gaze drifted over blue and yellow, across the fallow diamonds of the wall, onto the golden eyes below the yellow-
Eyes.
His own widened in alarm. He took a quick step backwards, swinging his axe off his shoulder and holding it steady in both hands. He planted his feet firm against the floor, readying himself for an incoming attack.
The pair of golden almonds blinked at him, their eyelids blending in against the wall's texture. Tiny black pupils stared into his narrowed eyes with curiosity. A moment passed - and then, two inches beneath the eyes, a row of sandlike spikes appeared, their sharp points linked into a wicked smile.
"Look, we have a visitor! Perhaps an inquisitor?" the thing said, musing with glee.
A second pair of eyes - identical to the first - appeared below the blue orb. A twin mouth soon joined it, its solemn expression held within stone lips.
"It seems so," a deeper voice, grave and serious, said. "Shall we do it, then?"
As Lantus looked on in bewilderment, the two creatures shifted out of the wall, their diamond-shaped bodies passing through the stone as if it were liquid. Their forms retained a rough and rocky texture, and each was slightly larger than his head in size - but they floated through the air like kites, seemingly unaffected by the rules of gravity.
"What in the world...?" murmured Lantus, wide-eyed.
"I was right!" said the yellow, spinning with a grin. It stopped on a tilted axis, smile replaced by a curious look. "But why the fright?"
"Perhaps he believes that we intend to attack. Your antics are apt to seem threatening," the blue responded, stone-faced.
The yellow pouted. "Killjoy to moi."
"You are not a Noble Grunty." The blue turned towards a perplexed Lantus. "Why do you stare at us in this manner?"
"... I have never encountered an event monster that understood speech..." said Lantus, more to himself than in response.
"You are mistaken. Our meeting does not adhere to preprogrammed instancing," said the blue.
"Not an event!" the yellow declared, floating over to Lantus's left shoulder. It spun itself downside-up, giving him an inverted sneer. "Does your brain have a dent?"
Lantus scowled. He aimed his axe towards the yellow, raising it to strike - but the monster quickly retreated, darting back to the blue's side.
"Easily enraged. Top of the temper gauge!" it said, letting out a snicker through interlaced teeth.
"It is because you are obnoxious," replied the blue, as blunt as ever. As the yellow glared its way, the blue's eyes returned to Lantus. "I apologize for my other half."
Lantus raised an eyebrow. "What sort of creatures are you, if not from an event?"
Somehow, the blue's voice became even more solemn. "Our name is Gorre. We are the fifth of eight."
"Master of schemes, plotter supreme!" added the yellow.
Lantus's brow furrowed. His eyes shifted from the blue to the yellow, and then back again - but he kept his axe held at the ready.
"Do you still intend to attack us?" said the blue, its implication ambiguous.
A sly smile crossed Lantus's face. "Such a strange creature is bound to drop a unique item. It is only natural that I should want to attack."
"That would not be wise."
"Oh?" said Lantus, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Do you believe you can win?"
"Incorrect," said the blue - much to Lantus's surprise. "In our current state, the probability of victory rests at twelve percent. The odds lie with you."
A mix of confusion and suspicion found Lantus. "... Then why?"
"Because we are able to offer you what you truly desire." The blue stared deep into Lantus's eyes, peering into his soul. "Power... Wealth... Limitless adventure. All of them can be yours."
Lantus blinked - and then scoffed. "As if I would believe such an outlandish claim. What would a creature in a virtual reality know of me?"
The two paused for a moment, hovering still - and then, the blue spoke.
"You joined The World on February 5th, 2013. Your first character was a Long Arm of the same name - which you deleted one week later because 'it is a weak class'. One month later, you founded the guild 'Trailblazers'. Three months later, it was disbanded by your hand. You kept all donations made to the guild treasure chest. Following that, you rarely joined parties, primarily playing solo. You currently have twenty-six names within your friends list. Only three have logged on within the past six months. You engage in player killing on a frequent basis, but it is rare for you to attack players under level fifty - most likely due to the relatively low value of the items within their inventories. You once owned an Iron Grunty named 'Ingot'. You traded it for the axe within your hands."
"Do you get the gist, or shall we persist?" said the yellow, grinning.
Lantus stared at the two in astonishment. "How is this possible?"
"We know all there is to know within The World." The blue hovered a slight distance upwards, as if ascending onto a pedestal. "Every shard of data, every message and mail, every record that has passed within the system - all of it is within our grasp."
"... Even if you speak the truth," said Lantus, sorting his thoughts, "the knowledge that you've collected is merely from a game. With such limited information, how can you claim to know my true self?"
"That is simple. The desires of one manifest in the other." A slight smirk crossed the blue's lips. "We are familiar with second lives. We died once, you know."
"Dissipation, reincarnation!" the yellow exclaimed, spinning with a cackle.
Lantus stared at them in silence. After a moment, his gaze drifted down to the serrated blade of his axe. His hazel irises focused upon one of the sawlike teeth, and he furrowed his brow in thought. Seconds passed - but, with time, he raised his eyes, peering at Gorre with a hesitant curiosity.
"... What are you proposing, exactly?"
The two stared at him for a moment - and then, their eyes shifted in unison, sharing a sidelong glance. Slowly, their gaze returned to Lantus.
A thin pair of devious smiles formed across grainy teeth.
"Have you ever heard of the .hackers...?"
It didn't occur to him until the very last moment.
All of the information was correct. Everything was as Gorre had said. The field was locked to ordinary players. The siblings had characters unique to the rest. The boy had a bracelet, and its power could unlock gates. The field was a marsh, and the dungeon was afloat.
There was no reason to doubt its last statement. There was no reason to think that the chest beyond the gate contained anything but treasure.
That he had been marked as the Pandora of The World.
The truth was inside that chest. The truth stood out against its contents - against that black void of nothingness. The truth was in that sliver of white.
That same smile that had crossed Gorre's lips.
But it was too late. There was no hope. The rest was a lie.
All he could do was scream.