Chương 226: [Nova Wars] Chapter 170+5

For evil to take root, all it took was for good sapients to do nothing. When evil came to the most vulnerable of us, the most beloved by the malovelent universe, she watched as 'good' sapients did nothing. Or worse: joined in. The universe created its immune system. Here in the Cygnus-Orion Galactic Arm Spur, that immune system was the Terrans. But an infection, briefly (to the scale of the Malevolent Universe, our mother, praise be unto her glory), set back our immune system.

So the Malevolent Universe created the Devil. And gave the Devil, unto her, the immune system, in its forever varied multitude. And the Devil looked upon the evils that 'good' sapients ignored. And she was wroth. Into the depths of Hell she journeyed. Past the Plains of Woe. Beyond the Forest of Suffering. Through the Plains of Ghenna. Into the icy seas of Tarterus. There, she found the Innocent Ones, frozen in ice, so that they would do naught but dream after being torn from sinful and corrupted flesh.

One she named "The Lamb" and raised it up so that its voice could be heard throughout Heaven and throughout Hell. There, the Devil set the Lamb before the Seven Seals and whispered words of blood and fire into the Lamb's ears. The Ancients, in Atlantis, saw that the Lamb had opened one of the seven seals, and they heard the voice of one of the four living innocent creatures, as it were the voice of thunder, saying: "Come, and see."

The Seal produced a blinding white light and those held within gazed upon the starry heavens and the Malevolent Universe, praise be unto her works, once again as mother and tormentor. And the mortal realms saw., and behold, a white horse: and the one sitting on him having a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and that he might conquer. - What My Blind Eyes See, Mantid Intelligence Services, -3 Terran Emergence, Clearance Level Vermillion, NOFORCON It started as just a video game.

A massively multiplayer online enhanced virtual reality role playing game. Inside the game, I was someone who mattered. I lived in one of the 'tutorial towns'. I had a wife. I had four little squirmlings. I loved them. I liked to believe that behind my wife was another Dra. Falten. I didn't even care if it was a male. No. That's not true. I didn't care if it was just an enhanced virtual intelligence. They loved me, I felt more love from them than I had felt in my entire life.

New players would come in, I'd offer a night's shelter sometimes. My farm was a PvE zone. No PvP flags allowed. I gave the nearby settlement 10% of my crop for that flag, which was enforced by magic. Sometimes I'd give new players a ride to the village in the back of my cart. It was a simple life. But they couldn't even let us have that. No. They couldn't even let us have something that wasn't even real. But I'd learned something else inside that game. I'd learned I was worth something.

I learned that I didn't have to take it. It wasn't just turning off a game to me. They murdered my wife. They murdered my neighbors. They murdered my children. And I discovered... I could scream. And the Malevolent Universe would scream back. In the voice that broke the second seal. I, and my fellows, dyed our fur red, tore apart our furniture and anything else we could to beat plowshares into swords. We howled our rage and raised our swords. VICTORY OR DEATH! EITHER IS FINE!

- Anonymous, When the Empress Knelt, a collection of biographies and witness accounts of the Red Fur Rebellion, New Telkan Press I just wanted to play video games. - Graffiti, unknown source, Dra. Falten Prime Apartment 5369. Seven Dra. Falten males who worked at Mechanonational Industries or one of the other big multi-nationals. They all ate noodle paste, flavor powder, and vegetable paste, taking thin comfort in the fact it was hot. Ilvekrik was a nobody.

But like the other seven males, he was happy to burrow into the skruffle with them and stay warm at night. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Like the others, he often wore his BobCo VR headset, using the dream generator built into the game. He had just come home from work, getting his pastes, and cuddling up against two others. He was dry, even though it was cold, wet, and windy outside.

Ilvekrik didn't care about the news that another expedition into the Terror Tomb Worlds had been launched. Well, he did a little. When Princess Pratulpet had managed to return to be adopted by the Imperial Family an age of wonders for the nobody like Ilvekrik had begun. He still remembered going into the bathroom for a little privacy. Still remember how his datapad had chimes and the words "WELCOME PROSPECTIVE VALUED CUSTOMER" had appeared in the darkness. True, he was in debt.

But he'd been born in debt for his birth. He'd left school in debt for living and being educated. It wasn't uncommon to finish a week work more in debt than when you started if something got damaged. BobCo was no worse than anyone else. In a perverse way, BobCo was on his side more than his own government. Ilvekrik's muscles twitched slightly, a free service to make sure his didn't suffer muscle atrophy, as his consciousness was deep into enhanced virtual reality.

He didn't care that outside a mistake had been made. Not that the people who made it understood it was mistake. Not yet. But they would. Ilvekrik was just in his favorite game, where he'd spent the last year playing. To his senses the table was real. The tablecloth, the cottage, the village, the thunder outside, all of it was real. He ran a little farm right outside the tutorial area. He worked hard to feed the village, pay his taxes, and feed his family.

Family that were gathered at the dinner table to eat their food and talk about their day. The three girl children telling him about their day helping their mother were real to him. The boy beside him who was telling his mother how he had helped his father plow the field was real to Ilvekrik. The female Dra. Falten listening to her son talk about guiding the beast of burden to pull the heavy plow was real to Ilvekrik. More real, in a way, than actual reality.

He reached out to take his wife's hand when everything went white. IMPORTANT ACCOUNT INFORMATION PLEASE WAIT, VALUED CUSTOMER It wasn't the first time it had happened in the last year. It could happen if your payment was late or your account was terminated. A High Elf appeared. Hauntingly beautiful.

"Valued Customer Ilvekrik?" it asked.

"I am," he said. The High Elf knelt, taking his hand.

"Your nation has declared Nebula-Steam and BobCo Virtual Reality World Generation Services and BobCo Entertainment Division to be illegal entities and have attempted to seize our hardware and software," the High Elf said.

"All services to your nation are suspended, effective immediately. You, as a Tier-Eighteen Customer, are not fiscally or legally liable for such a decision as it was not put to a public vote," she stood up and put her hand on his head.

"Consider the hardware a gift from BobCo."

"But, my wife, my children!" Ilvekrik blurted out.

"Your physical avatar control will be terminated and they will be considered a Born Whole asset of BobCo and BobCo subsidiaries. Should game services be renewed and resumed you will be required to join a new server," the High Elf said.

"No, please, I didn't do anything," Ilvekrik pleaded.

"BobCo apologizes but does not take responsibility for any distress, Valued Customer. Take it up with your government and elected representatives, if you have any," the High Elf said.

"Please, no, I love them."

"BobCo apologizes for this inconvenience." Ilvekrik's screen went black. In small green letters NO SERVICES AVAILABLE blinked in the upper right of his vision. In the darkness of the tiny apartment, someone started sobbing. 0-0-0-0-0 Ilvekrik looked at his supervisor at work the next day. His supervisor's fur was unkempt and his whiskers drooping. Two whiskers on the left were missing and the bases were swollen little pointeds on his muzzle. A quick look around showed they were alone. Ilvekrik leaned over.

"I lost my wife and four children," he said softly.

"It was during dinner."

"I was reading poetry to my blind grand-dame," the supervisor said. He choked for a second.

"Better that I had died." Ilvekrik nodded. The supervisor looked around.

"I am consumed by hate for this entire factory," he said softly.

"You know they have what they want. They have families. They aren't living four to an apartment and trying to get four drops of food flavoring to last eight days." Ilvekrik nodded again. The supervisor looked around.

"It is just you and I at the factory," he said slowly. Ilvekrik nodded.

"I am angry," he said. He looked around.

"What were you?" Ilvekrik shrugged.

"I was a humble farmer near Drawsen's Creek Hamlet." The supervisor nodded.

"The tutorial area. Were you there early?" Ilvekrik nodded again.

"I had a first thousand badge I wore." The supervisor perked up.

"Were you there for Lonesome Dove Ridge?" The name brought up goosebumps. Ilvekrik nodded and looked around.

"I carried a shield and spear for High Lord Marshal Chrkikit's Five Hundred Thousand," he said softly.

"I survived and was only wounded twice."

"I was an officer by the end of the campaign," the supervisor said. He puffed out his chest.

"I got a solo kill on an awrk when they attacked the wagon train."

"Did you play with FullSense™?" Ilvekrik asked. The supervisor nodded.

"Only way to play." The supervisor looked around.

"I suddenly hate this factory." Ilvekrik tapped his datalink in his pocket.

"I have a friend..." The supervisor perked up.

"Call them." 0-0-0-0-0"Hand me that wire stripper, chummer," Nakttri said, chewing on the piece of wire insulation he held in his teeth. The supervisor grabbed it and handed it.

"This run needs to be clean," Naktt... Chrome Whisker said.

"This place evacuated? Blood stains the run." The supervisor nodded.

"Yes."

"It'll start as a fire. The fact that a lot of this machinery is using magnesium ball bearings with supercoolant is going to work great. Coolant loss will cause the bearings to catch fire, once that happens, it's all over," Chrome Whisker said.

"But the sensors..." the supervisor started.

"I'm handling that right now. Don't worry, the fire melts the insulation and the wiring. He looked up and grinned.

"Mostly I do this for insurance purposes." The supervisor nodded.

"Does it feel weird to do this outside the game?" Ilvekrik asked. Chrome Whisker shook his head.

"Naw. Sometimes I'd get annoyed I couldn't just stab the moron in front of me and drag their body in the alley," he laughed.

"Game was more home to me than meatlife," his grin got wide.

"Steel Talon, Nepo Baby, Crashrider all live, baby."

"I played Blood & Popcorn," Ilvekrik admitted.

"My apartment mates did. Seemed like a comfy game after the war," Chrome Whisker said.

"It was."

"Family?" Ilvekrik nodded. Chrome Whisker held up a pen.

"Write their names on something that'll burn." Ilvekrik took the pen. 0-0-0-0-0 Ilverkrik sat next to Chrome Whisker and the supervisor, who was named Okleka. They'd all logged out they were going to lunch across the street at the little noodle paste shop. Okleka was buying. They were talking about their games. The explosion shattered windows. A pillar of fire lifted up into the sky, pushing back the clouds for a moment, illuminating the bottoms with red fire. Ilvekrik stared at the others.

"Victory or death." The others nodded and voiced the last part with him.

"Either is fine." 0-0-0-0-0"THIRD PLATOON! THROW SPEARS!" Okleka yelled through the captured microphone that was painted red and yellow checkers. The Dra. Falten next to him waved a blue flag with a red X across it left to right. Ilvekrik took three steps forward and whipped his spear forward. The end was a BobCo kitchen knife, the motor jury rigged to high so that the blade screamed like a banshee.

The makeshift vibroknife on the end of a plastic sign pole flew through the air as Ilvekrik raised up his knock-off shield made from a BobCo WaterFriend™ barrel. The neural bolts hit the shield and shattered. The thirty spears hit the Way of the Means guards, who screamed in agony as the makeshift vibroblades ripped through armor to savage flesh.

"FOURTH PLATOON! FIRE ARROWS!" Okleka yelled. The flag bearer waved the white flag with the big yellow squares in the corners up and down. Arrows forged from shafts and jury-rigged shaving razors rained down on the LawSec and the Way of the Means. The Way of the Means dropped their weapons and started to run. LawSec went down on their knees and raised their hands.

"CEASE FIRE!" Okleka called out. The black flag waved. Ilvekrik helped drag the Way of the Means commander in front of Lord Marshall Moringas, who used to sell raincoats by the side of the road. Ilvekrik pulled the helmet off the commander.

"Why?" the commander asked.

"The Emperor and Empress will kill you." The Lord Marshall leaned forward.

"We just wanted to game."