“What do you mean?”
“Grinding shards? You want to get out?”
“Don’t you?”
“I can’t. I don’t exist in Dis’s database. But you can. How many shards do you have?”
Seeing my hesitation, Three smiled mockingly.
“I’ll find out either way. Nine will come here, and this time she’s going through your bags, make no mistake.”
“Almost a million.”
“Ooh, ‘almost’, is it? And you started from practically nothing? Your level, I mean.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Why are you trying so hard? Your original has probably already left his capsule. Perhaps you don’t know, but only an imprint of your consciousness was left behind here.”
“I left my capsule more than once. The one here now is me, the real one.”
“Is that so…” Three thought for a moment. I scanned his face and couldn’t figure out why it seemed so familiar to me. “Then why do you have to do all this? Shouldn’t Snowstorm have just restored your character, made you sign a confidentiality agreement? Or has someone replaced Snowstorm now? Is the game still under their control?”
“They’ve lost their influence on Dis. The world lives and evolves. They can’t change the kernel anymore. And I badly need to get out of here as soon as possible. A lot of people are depending on me there.”
“Well, well, this day is getting far more interesting than I planned!” Three said, grinning and nibbing his hands with glee. “Now I regret not talking to you first, before Nine. She has, you see, a very developed sense of property. Tell me your story.”
“I don’t have time, Three. If Nine…”
“She won’t see us, don’t worry.”
I told him everything from the very beginning. About myself and my family, about how I met Clayton playing as the lich Dargo, and flew to Cali Bottom. About how we started working with the noncitizens, and what it all ended up becoming.
“Right now, all the game’s top players are attacking both the temple and the undead army,” I said, ending my story. “I already offered to help Nine. I don’t know how, but I think I can do more than your Piercers.”
“Are you sure you can deal with the player army?” Three frowned mistrustfully. “I haven’t been able to test it, but I guarantee it—you won’t take your levels out of here with you. You won’t take anything with you. Everything here is recorded only in the local database. There’s also a high probability that Dis will not accept you; it will either throw you back or erase you.”
“But I’ll know that I did my best, Three. And if I do stay in the game, then I’ll tty to bring you guys out too! You’ve all gone insane here! Nine is a psychopath, don’t you see that?”
“Haha, of course! But she always was that, from day one. She has a special kind of mind or some kind of warping of personality—in real life, she twisted off kittens’ heads. She’s a monster, but if she decides you’re useful, then you’ll never find a better friend. The important thing is to stay useful…” Three shook his head. “But as for me, after recent events…”
“You mean when Nine-Six and Seven-Two attacked you?”
“Uh-huh. Nine told you? Not like her. I’m with Twelve now, and I think she’s the only one stopping Nine from touching me. She covets a thing or two in my arsenal…” Three sighed. “Alright. How many shards are you missing?”
“Around a thousand.”
“Here.”
The trade window opened. Three gave me a stack of shards, removed the dome above us and said:
“Activate Lesser Rift.”
I did just that. A ripple appeared in the space before me. It flexed, distorting perspective like hot air. Fantastical whirlwinds began to emerge around the site of the Rift, forming a ghostly semicircle with a surface flowing like water. Black threads showed through in places, like cracks in the fabric of reality, revealing the great nothingness of limbo. A true whirlwind formed above the semi-sphere of the Rift, sucking up dust, mud and torn grass.
For the first time, I saw what a Nether rift looked like from within.
Movement from the right caught my attention. Huge bubbles were inflating in the mire. The reeds rustled and mobs started crawiing out. Three casted something and a wall of flame surrounded us.
“Listen carefully,” he said. “Nine got the ability to create a Rift when she got her First Kill in an instance called Source of the Smoldering Nether. It’s on Terrastera, if the developers didn’t change anything. How long until you unlock the continent?”
“Normally, twenty more years. Real ones. But I gained three hundred levels in half a year.”
“Uh-huh, because you’re a Threat?” Three hadn’t heard of the system of Threats before, and my story was new to him. “Well, alright. I’ve waited ten thousand years. I can wait more. As long as I don’t die here… Come on, the Rift could close any second. Go through. The whole swamp is on its way here. The mobs are drawn to the Rift.,’
“What’s your name, Three?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I’ll try to find you in real life.”
“Dennis Kaverin.”
I nodded, offered him a hand.
“Alex Sheppard.”
Three shook my hand and said one last thing as I entered the portal.
“My friends used to call me Dek.”
Chapter 11: Plague Dust
THE TRANSFER didn’t go as smoothly as it had done atop the Ravager. I hung in transition. The world around me blurred and froze, like a washed-out speckled painting. Sound fled.
Synchronizing… ERROR!
Recovering current character parameters… SUCCESS!
Checking… DISCREPANCY!
Character level does not match zone of class Sandbox.
Transferring to respawn point…
Dark surrounded me. The only thing I could see were the strange system logs slowly fading from my vision. When the final line disappeared, light began to break through the mist. The world appeared, turned to color.
I saw the columns of Behemoth’s temple standing out against the green of the jungle. It worked!
I felt the touch of the Sleeping God’s thoughts, heard him: Hurry!
It took me thirty seconds to examine myself and my profile and confirm that nothing from the Nether
