She gestured to Telvar, Emilarth, and Belius. Nothing she said was an outright lie, just also not completely the truth. At least not yet.
Risk shook his head. “Wait. Are you saying that if the headgear was tampered with, the programming of it has been infected with a virus?”
Sinister hesitated for a moment, and Havoc took over. “Technically. It’s more like a glitch being passed on, allowing for the areas of the mind that shouldn’t have been accessed being adversely affected by the headgear’s adjustments. They’re lasers. Screwing around with lasers near your brain was never going to be a good idea.”
“Is that why Jirald seemed to affect them?” Karn piped up.
This time Murmur stepped in. “Sort of. We think he might have tampered with his own headset more than most others.”
“So what are we facing? Can you tell us that at least?” Masha sounded oddly disappointed. Like he didn’t understand why they’d been kept in the dark.
Murmur felt bad, but there were just things they couldn’t say, because believing she could log in without a headset wasn’t something she’d have believed herself if she didn’t, you know, do it.
“This monster has been mutated by the virus released into the system by the original creator of the headsets. Which means, we’re facing a monster that’s been so mutated by the virus, we’ll probably need lots of help to kill it.” Sinister almost sounded joyful. “It’s why some NPCs have come with us. And for all we know, maybe backup will arrive via helicopter.”
She laughed at her own joke, elbowing Merlin who rolled his eyes.
“That’s it?” Risk raised an eyebrow. “Why not just tell us this to begin with? It seems relatively trivial, all things considered.”
This time Merlin laughed and clapped the large dread knight on the shoulder. “Tell me, if you hadn’t witnessed James and Jirald, would you have believed us?”
Risk laughed softly as Merlin moved everyone along the wide cobble stone path again. “Maybe not, but I would have thought about it. Glitchy things have been happening since we first logged in. We’re playing in a virtual world, steps away from a dystopian future that would have been in books a decade ago. Isn’t almost anything possible?”
“I guess you have a point then. We should have told you earlier.” Murmur smiled as she stood watching them, Snowy, Havoc, and Sinister by her side. “I pre-judged. Sorry.”
“It’s all good. I’m glad we’ve had this chance to work together.” And this time Risk smiled, and it was the first genuine smile she’d seen on his face. He turned, following Mellow and Masha as Havoc joined them and sped up to catch up with the rest of the group.
“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Sinister hugged her waist, and Murmur absent-mindedly kissed the top of the dark elf’s head.
“No, but this fight is going to be a pain in my butt.” Murmur sighed as Sinister chuckled.
“We got through Jirald. We’ll get through this.”
Murmur just wished she could believe her, but the feeling of foreboding followed them along the path as the black stone walls grew more ornate, now decorated with statues and artwork, the roof still open to the sky.
“Mur. Stop it.” Sinister pouted and stopped walking, pulling back the enchanter with her. “You’re doing that ‘whole weight of the virtual world on your shoulders’ thing again. Talk to me. Share?”
Murmur blinked at the blood mage, at the seriousness in that expression, and sighed. She couldn’t keep a smile from her face. The feelings she had, at least now that she’d realized them, were obvious and ridiculously jealous. But like this, even if they were only stopped in the middle of a passageway, time spent only with Sinister was precious.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to worry you.” She stepped into Sinister’s embrace, and even though Sin rested her head on Mur’s chest, it felt more like the blood mage was doing the comforting. The warmth and assurance, the steadfast support. Everything about it made Murmur appreciate being on this journey together.
She’d never realized how much Sinister—Harlow—meant to her until the possibility existed that she might lose everything.
“Feel better?” Sinister asked, her voice soothing.
Murmur considered the question seriously. “Yes. I don’t like seeing you die, even if you can come back. It almost broke me back there.”
“Not getting rid of me that easily,” Sinister joked before smiling softly and raising herself up on her tiptoes to reach Murmur’s height.
The kiss held warmth and love, understanding and strength, and the promise that everything would turn out for the best. Murmur didn’t want it to stop, but there’d be so much time for that after this fight was completed.
“Okay.” Reluctantly, the enchanter pulled away. “We should hurry up. They can probably do without me, but if I short them a healer, they’ll get mad.”
Sinister laughed, and they half-jogged the rest of the way.
Murmur looked up at the looming walls again. She was fairly certain that if someone tried to scale the walls they couldn’t simply escape, otherwise how would the prison work? The walkway they traversed was wide. Even the walls failed to make it feel restricted. Up ahead, she could see that it widened, like a river pouring into the sea. The closer they got, she realized the others had already stopped and were waiting for them to catch up.
The tension in Devlish’s shoulders worried her. Devlish rarely got tense about something, and as they joined up with their raid mates, Murmur saw why.
This was a massive circular area. The cobblestones in the middle displayed a picture she couldn’t discern from where she stood and then spiraled outwards from the image. Instead of walls, the circle was surrounded on its far edges by huge rock formations with jagged peaks and slick surfaces.
Directly across from them, sitting on a massive black throne that appeared to be hewn out of some of the rocky cliff face behind him, sat Michael.
The smile on
