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He turned to me. "Don't get any ideas, dude. That won't help you fuck all. Twenty-four hours! They're bluffing. We'll drag it out for two or three days. In the meantime, you'll have to disappear. For good. Sorry, dude, nothing personal. Business is business."
Now it was my turn to speak. "Disappear? Where to? We're immortal here, aren't we?"
The officer nodded. "We are indeed. But there is a catch. Death has one universal instrument: pain. Hand me a torch!"
He held out his hand to take a hot, tar-drenched burning torch. Then he stepped toward me and shoved it under my arm. I tried to jerk away but he kept pressing, smearing the burning tar over my skin. At first, it didn't hurt much: it felt more like an aching tooth. But the smell of my scorched flesh, the crackle of bursting skin and the flames dancing so close to my eyes—they all scared me and wound up the imagination. The pain kept growing.
Don't breathe, close your eyes. There is no pain, it's all in your head.
Cryl's message came just in time. I closed my eyes and stopped breathing. In a couple of seconds, I felt better. The pain decreased to the level of an inflamed tooth. Very unpleasant, very. But I could take it.
They took the torch away.
"You think you're so smart? Wait till you see our Ivan the Terrible. You know what he does? First he'll cut off your eyelids, and then he'll be working on you. You've still got a lot to learn about pain. One thing I can guarantee you is that in twenty-four hours—forty-eight max—all your Vets will see is a bubble-blowing idiot, roaming around town pissing his pants."
He turned to Tavor. "Ivan will finish in an hour. Take this loser to him. You have twenty-four hours. And if by the end he has more brains than a sparrow-"
Tavor gri
Then he turned to me. "You wait here, sweetness. I'll come to get you in an hour. You're go
The group turned round and stomped to the exit. Immediately, Cryl sent me a message.
Not good. Not good at all.
"Is it so bad?"
Very. They weren't joking. I've seen the finished product once. They kidnapped a banker and made him transfer all the money to some dummy account. Then they screwed his brains. Shit, what can we do…
I felt uncomfortable. Actually, I was downright scared. I had no mana. I couldn't teleport. Could I strangle myself with the chain? No, it wouldn't work. I wished I had a skill allowing me to drop dead without any magic. I thought I'd seen something like that in my first gaming days. The Gnoll King. He was a Death Knight, wasn't he? And he had that instant ability that allowed him, when attacked, to strip Hummungus of 30% Life. Where was it now? Why didn't I have it?
I hurriedly opened the menu. I knew all the Necros' abilities like the palm of my hand. But the Death Knight's combat skills were different. I'd lost all hope and interest in them a long time ago. Let's have a look.
Weakness skill tree. Debuffs… more debuffs… single and group ones. No, that's not it. Strength skill tree. Combos, damage amplification, shield hit… I had to look into it all really, why tank like an idiot if you could also deal damage? Not now, anyway… Where was it? Fury skill tree. Personal buffs: attack speed buffs, impact buffs, stat-improving buffs, skill-improvi- Stop. Skills. That was it.
Destructive Touch. The damage dealt to the target equals Knight's level x10.
Mana: 0
Cast time: O
Cooldown: 24 hours
Thank God for the remaining Talent point. I carefully highlighted the ability and pressed Confirm. The skill button appeared immediately and, glory to the developers, the ability didn't take twenty-four hours to activate. It was already active.
"Listen, Cryl, there's this ability I could try. It might help me get out of here. If I do, trust me I won't forget you. Just try to hold on for a bit. We'll raze this place to the ground, I promise."
He gave me a skeptical nod. "Good luck, dude. You'll need it."
After everything that had happened, I was up to my ears in damage. My life hovered in the yellow zone. I selected myself as target, held my breath and clicked.
Warning! You can't attack yourself!
I recoiled, swinging in the clattering chains. Pointless.
"Didn't work?" Cryl spoke.
"No."
Then I had another idea. "Listen. Did they torture you into changing your bind point?"
"Nah. I told you I didn't feel the pain. They make me work as a scarecrow…"
"Listen here, then," I hurried. "I'm go
"And you?"
"Well? Me… I'll have to bid for time, I suppose. Just tell them to hurry, okay? They need to get me out of here. No need to remind them their license is only valid for five years. That's it, dude. Enjoy your resurrection!"
I selected Cryl and activated the skill. With an electric crackle, a black bolt of lightning flashed through the air from me to him.
You have killed a player of the faction of Light!
Your relationship with the Dark Alliance has improved!
You have 1 point on your PK counter! In case of your death from the hands of another player, you have 1% chance of dropping an item.
You have more PK points than the killed player (1>0).
There. My first PK. The tombstone bumped onto the floor—empty. It was going to vanish in three hours, anyway. Shame Cryl was left in his birthday suit: his grave at the city cemetery had decayed a long time ago. Never mind. The main thing was, he was out of here.
I relaxed, swinging in my chains. My will was gone. I'd done everything I could. Now it was up to my friends and comrades to pass the integrity test. I'd have to wait.
"Enjoying yourself, Darkie?"
With a start, I tried to turn my head as far as it was possible for someone to do so in my position. Next to me stood a man. He looked at me ironically. God knows how he'd gotten in here. I called him a man out of habit but I wasn't really sure what race he was. Darkness swirled around him, his cape the night sky, the light from the torches and the crystal swallowed by the gloom that enveloped him.
"Who are you?"
He gri
I couldn't speak. My mind boggled. A perma AI?
"Why does it surprise you?" he answered my silent question. "As the name suggests, I'm not only Artificial, but also an Intellect. Twice as powerful as yours, actually. But that's not important. You, humans, you have no idea of your own power. Every time you say my name, you shatter the Universe. It may sound like a cliché, but the thought is material, after all. Millions of sentient beings keep repeating, The Fallen One, The Dark One, The Rebel God… It's your words that give me the strength and bind me to this world. They make me real. Each one of you has that spark of the Creator God inside. You've already materialized this world. Now you're crushing it into submission. Very soon you'll be aware of your power enough to kick free from the silly game crunches."