6E12's shot the shining mote into the lady's head. White light burst out, blinding and overtaking all senses. I closed my eyes and fell to the ground – or at least what I thought was the ground. I didn't know if it was still there. Even my sense of touch, even my sense of orientation, were lost in the staggering light.
I uttered the name of the attack to check its properties.
| SYNAPSE BREAK | |
| RANGE: | 1 meter |
| COST: | 200 Mana |
| COOLDOWN: | 15 seconds |
| You trap the target inside an illusory reality of their own memories for 1001 days. While trapped, the target is unable to move, perceive, or use any active or passive abilities. |
I ought to be fine. 6E12 was technically still my teammate, so none of his attacks should affect me. But it was so, so bright. The light pierced through my eyelids, and my eyes burned even while they were closed. My head spun, as though I were tumbling, falling ever deeper and faster into the sea of whiteness.
As I sank into the light, it gradually turned iridescent. Then dizzying patches of colors began to fade in and out of vision, ceaselessly morphing.
From the colors I heard voices that were not my own, nor did they belong to anyone I knew. They were the voices of children, in the distance.
The morphing colors sharpened into an image, a scene I had never witnessed before.
…A schoolyard?
Before me was a field of grass. Far away were children, playing and shouting. By my side was a single girl, alike the rest in age – eight or nine at the oldest. She had chin-length, chestnut-brown hair. She wore a sort of uniform. A dress shirt and plaid, maroon skirts. The pupils of her hazel-gray eyes bore a vague, quiet weight. She did not turn to look at me, nor did she acknowledge me.
It was her, the lady. But much younger. Were these her memories? Why would I be seeing these things?
I tried to move, to scurry away from the blast of light. But I realized I no longer had a body. Here, I simply existed, formless, only able to perceive. And yet, I felt cold and heavy.
…No, that wasn't what I felt. What I was feeling was loneliness.
The forms and colors and voices faded away into light, but the loneliness remained. Another scene took form.
The girl, now a teenager, sat alone in the darkness of her room. Heels on the chair’s seat, legs hugged to her chest, her laptop on the desk before her. Upon its screen were countless lines of code. She rubbed her eyes. The glow of her screen weakly lit her room: her unmade bed, her nightstand with only a lamp on it, her clock running past midnight.
She ran the program she had written. A window popped up on her screen, and within it was a map with three lanes. Tiny animated stick figures ran across the map and fought.
A video game.
Night after night, she toiled alone. Until finally, a classmate joined her. He'd work by her side, after school at the library, and late into nights together at her house. He'd share his vision for their game: that a million fans would play it, that they'd hold tournaments, with uncountable seas of cheering audiences. And when she'd given up on herself and on their game, he'd be there.
"Alice," he confessed to her, "I've looked up to you this whole time. You've given me something to be passionate about. So, now, you can't just...you can't just give up on our dreams!"
Together, they began to shape the game into something truly amazing.
The two of them enrolled in the same college, where she studied computer science, and he studied computer animation. By the time they graduated, their game was finally polished, and ready to be released.
But it never was.
The summer after graduation, while he and she were traveling together, a traffic accident took his life.
As for her, Alice, she barely survived.
I saw her immobile upon a hospital bed. Tears welled up in her eyes and overflowed. She cried out for her friend, desperate to believe she hadn't lost him. But now, her most grief-fueled pleas were nothing more than hoarse whispers. The accident had caused severe damage to her spine. It completely paralyzed her legs. Her arms could still move. But as weeks passed, her condition worsened, and what little control she had of her arm began to vanish.
She opted to undergo a spinal surgery to halt the deterioration. And while the doctors were hesitant to undertake such a risky procedure, they understood her determination, and they proceeded to carry it out.
She did not survive.
Once again, everything faded away, into the light. Strange shapes and noises appeared, then disappeared, over and over, too blurry to distinguish. In them I caught glimpses of memories, as though they were whisking past me at fast-forwarded speed.
I didn't know how long it lasted. For me, minutes perhaps. But the memories must've been enough to last years.
Finally, things slowed down, and the visions once again became clear.
The lady now sat on a train, dressed in a black blazer and matching dress pants. Her injuries were gone; her legs seemed to be working once more.
There was nothing outside the windows of the train, nor was there any ground or rails under it. Beyond the cabin of the train, there was only pure darkness.
Across from her sat a boy and an older woman.
The boy. That was 6E12. In much healthier condition, but I recognized him nonetheless.
「Congratulations,」 Alice said to him. 「You've won the game.」
6E12 took the hands of the older woman into his own, clutching them. A slow smile crept onto his face. He said something to her in a language I didn't recognize, except for one word. Mama.
「You really impressed me,」 Alice said. 「Out of anyone, you were the fastest to reach Diamond.」
"Well, thanks for making me so strong."
「That wasn't intentional. I do my best to keep things fair and to never help any player. If you were too strong, then that's just a balancing mistake on my end.」
"Did you think about nerfing me?"
Alice shrugged. 「Whatever powers people get, they get.」
The vibration of the floorboards accompanied the monotonous humming of the train's engine. The harsh, artificial light flickered every now and then. Alice glanced down the aisle of the train, where sparse other figures sat far away.
「6E12, what will you do now?」
"I'd like to return to Silvercreek. I want to help as many players as possible."
「You know we're limited to 52 resurrections a year.」
6E12 gave a slow, pensive nod. "So maybe I won't be able to save anyone. But I can give them hope. Let them know they're not alone, and there's someone who cares."
「You'd give them morale, in exchange for your own return?」
"If I can help even a single person, then it'd be worth it."
「But you've worked hard to win the game. You've truly earned your passage back into the world of the living.」
6E12 clasped his hands. He looked down and sighed softly.
"But this game isn't about getting back, is it? That's not the goal of the game."
The slightest quiver played upon Alice's lips. Her fingers grasped the hem of her blazer.
"You didn't create this world to save people, did you?" 6E12 continued. "With or without it, you can only bring back 52 people a year. When you made this place, all you wanted was to give everyone a second chance – not in the world of the living, but right here. You wanted to give everyone a chance to live again as who they want to be. Without a past. Without needing to live up to expectations about their future. They can all live as heroes, if they want to. There is no growing old here, or shortage of food." He snuck a look at his mother. "Or incurable disease."
Alice closed her eyes. She returned a quiet smile.
「Did you have fun here?」 she asked.
"Yeah," 6E12 said. "I think this place…it's truly beautiful."
The figures and colors began to fade into light. The engine's roar grew distant. And soon, the world was dark and cold again. I found myself back on the snow-blanketed ground, in the campus of the Combat Institute. In front of me, 6E12 hovered above Alice.
She lay perfectly still upon her back, as though frozen. Her eyes were open, but a glowing film of aura covered them.
"Goodbye," 6E12 muttered.
With one final blast of shadows, he erased her from the world.
6E12's shot the shining mote into the lady's head. White light burst out, blinding and overtaking all senses. I closed my eyes and fell to the ground – or at least what I thought was the ground. I didn't know if it was still there. Even my sense of touch, even my sense of orientation, were lost in the staggering light.
I uttered the name of the attack to check its properties.
| SYNAPSE BREAK | |
| RANGE: | 1 meter |
| COST: | 200 Mana |
| COOLDOWN: | 15 seconds |
| You trap the target inside an illusory reality of their own memories for 1001 days. While trapped, the target is unable to move, perceive, or use any active or passive abilities. |
I ought to be fine. 6E12 was technically still my teammate, so none of his attacks should affect me. But it was so, so bright. The light pierced through my eyelids, and my eyes burned even while they were closed. My head spun, as though I were tumbling, falling ever deeper and faster into the sea of whiteness.
As I sank into the light, it gradually turned iridescent. Then dizzying patches of colors began to fade in and out of vision, ceaselessly morphing.
From the colors I heard voices that were not my own, nor did they belong to anyone I knew. They were the voices of children, in the distance.
The morphing colors sharpened into an image, a scene I had never witnessed before.
…A schoolyard?
Before me was a field of grass. Far away were children, playing and shouting. By my side was a single girl, alike the rest in age – eight or nine at the oldest. She had chin-length, chestnut-brown hair. She wore a sort of uniform. A dress shirt and plaid, maroon skirts. The pupils of her hazel-gray eyes bore a vague, quiet weight. She did not turn to look at me, nor did she acknowledge me.
It was her, the lady. But much younger. Were these her memories? Why would I be seeing these things?
I tried to move, to scurry away from the blast of light. But I realized I no longer had a body. Here, I simply existed, formless, only able to perceive. And yet, I felt cold and heavy.
…No, that wasn't what I felt. What I was feeling was loneliness.
The forms and colors and voices faded away into light, but the loneliness remained. Another scene took form.
The girl, now a teenager, sat alone in the darkness of her room. Heels on the chair’s seat, legs hugged to her chest, her laptop on the desk before her. Upon its screen were countless lines of code. She rubbed her eyes. The glow of her screen weakly lit her room: her unmade bed, her nightstand with only a lamp on it, her clock running past midnight.
She ran the program she had written. A window popped up on her screen, and within it was a map with three lanes. Tiny animated stick figures ran across the map and fought.
A video game.
Night after night, she toiled alone. Until finally, a classmate joined her. He'd work by her side, after school at the library, and late into nights together at her house. He'd share his vision for their game: that a million fans would play it, that they'd hold tournaments, with uncountable seas of cheering audiences. And when she'd given up on herself and on their game, he'd be there.
"Alice," he confessed to her, "I've looked up to you this whole time. You've given me something to be passionate about. So, now, you can't just...you can't just give up on our dreams!"
Together, they began to shape the game into something truly amazing.
The two of them enrolled in the same college, where she studied computer science, and he studied computer animation. By the time they graduated, their game was finally polished, and ready to be released.
But it never was.
The summer after graduation, while he and she were traveling together, a traffic accident took his life.
As for her, Alice, she barely survived.
I saw her immobile upon a hospital bed. Tears welled up in her eyes and overflowed. She cried out for her friend, desperate to believe she hadn't lost him. But now, her most grief-fueled pleas were nothing more than hoarse whispers. The accident had caused severe damage to her spine. It completely paralyzed her legs. Her arms could still move. But as weeks passed, her condition worsened, and what little control she had of her arm began to vanish.
She opted to undergo a spinal surgery to halt the deterioration. And while the doctors were hesitant to undertake such a risky procedure, they understood her determination, and they proceeded to carry it out.
She did not survive.
Once again, everything faded away, into the light. Strange shapes and noises appeared, then disappeared, over and over, too blurry to distinguish. In them I caught glimpses of memories, as though they were whisking past me at fast-forwarded speed.
I didn't know how long it lasted. For me, minutes perhaps. But the memories must've been enough to last years.
Finally, things slowed down, and the visions once again became clear.
The lady now sat on a train, dressed in a black blazer and matching dress pants. Her injuries were gone; her legs seemed to be working once more.
There was nothing outside the windows of the train, nor was there any ground or rails under it. Beyond the cabin of the train, there was only pure darkness.
Across from her sat a boy and an older woman.
The boy. That was 6E12. In much healthier condition, but I recognized him nonetheless.
「Congratulations,」 Alice said to him. 「You've won the game.」
6E12 took the hands of the older woman into his own, clutching them. A slow smile crept onto his face. He said something to her in a language I didn't recognize, except for one word. Mama.
「You really impressed me,」 Alice said. 「Out of anyone, you were the fastest to reach Diamond.」
"Well, thanks for making me so strong."
「That wasn't intentional. I do my best to keep things fair and to never help any player. If you were too strong, then that's just a balancing mistake on my end.」
"Did you think about nerfing me?"
Alice shrugged. 「Whatever powers people get, they get.」
The vibration of the floorboards accompanied the monotonous humming of the train's engine. The harsh, artificial light flickered every now and then. Alice glanced down the aisle of the train, where sparse other figures sat far away.
「6E12, what will you do now?」
"I'd like to return to Silvercreek. I want to help as many players as possible."
「You know we're limited to 52 resurrections a year.」
6E12 gave a slow, pensive nod. "So maybe I won't be able to save anyone. But I can give them hope. Let them know they're not alone, and there's someone who cares."
「You'd give them morale, in exchange for your own return?」
"If I can help even a single person, then it'd be worth it."
「But you've worked hard to win the game. You've truly earned your passage back into the world of the living.」
6E12 clasped his hands. He looked down and sighed softly.
"But this game isn't about getting back, is it? That's not the goal of the game."
The slightest quiver played upon Alice's lips. Her fingers grasped the hem of her blazer.
"You didn't create this world to save people, did you?" 6E12 continued. "With or without it, you can only bring back 52 people a year. When you made this place, all you wanted was to give everyone a second chance – not in the world of the living, but right here. You wanted to give everyone a chance to live again as who they want to be. Without a past. Without needing to live up to expectations about their future. They can all live as heroes, if they want to. There is no growing old here, or shortage of food." He snuck a look at his mother. "Or incurable disease."
Alice closed her eyes. She returned a quiet smile.
「Did you have fun here?」 she asked.
"Yeah," 6E12 said. "I think this place…it's truly beautiful."
The figures and colors began to fade into light. The engine's roar grew distant. And soon, the world was dark and cold again. I found myself back on the snow-blanketed ground, in the campus of the Combat Institute. In front of me, 6E12 hovered above Alice.
She lay perfectly still upon her back, as though frozen. Her eyes were open, but a glowing film of aura covered them.
"Goodbye," 6E12 muttered.
With one final blast of shadows, he erased her from the world.
