Arc 1 | Chapter 6: Bait and Wait

Emilia’s willbrand screamed to life, filling her core with a spark of

otherness

as darkness surrounded them, all encompassing. It was barely a moment, but the pure darkness, the complete loss of all her senses and brief disconnection from her Censor—her most constant companion since it had been installed when she was 15—always made her heart skip a beat. Then, the world returned, reformed.

The basic shape and structure of raidlands were the same as they were in the real world. In the case of this place—a shopping district known as Shivar, according to her Censor—the buildings looked nearly identical to how they had when they first arrived—and the shape of them was most certainly the same. It was way too much work to return buildings and the things within them to their normal state once raids ended, so very few public raids altered more than the exterior appearance of buildings within them. While some raids—mostly expensive, private ones—took place indoors, most government sponsored raids—including this one—were held entirely outdoors.

The plant life, however, was nearly always rendered into forms that were nothing like their natural form. Trees became foreign and

wrong

. The colours. The shapes. Everything natural shaped into something otherworldly and disturbing. This raid was perhaps even worse, given the way sunlight fell through the pink vapour, held back high above them by the city’s decontamination system, in an entirely wrong shade.

It was all wrong. It was also terrifying—not just the changes to the physical world, but how much the raid system could manipulate the aethernet after a decade of practice.

Vines wrapped themselves around virtually everything in sight, turning the apparently quite popular area—although she had never even heard of this place before; it was way outside of her paydrop range—into something out of an apocalypse film. “

No one has lived here in generations,”

the place seemed to whisper now.

Huge trees surrounded the borders of the raidland—dense and inescapable for all but the most skilled hackers. This raidland was apparently a square kilometre, which wasn’t too bad. Emilia had seen public raidlands reach over 10 square kilometres in size, and had heard of huge corporate sponsored raids spreading 100s. Those raids were often multi-day events, with lodgings—varying from fancy hotels to

better have some skill making yourself a shelter in the woods

—and a story woven through it. There were also the raid servers spanning entire galaxies, virtual realities that ran complex environments, time skewed to excessive lengths. See one Blaze Williams and his 2000-hour weekend video game session, probably.

Almost everyone under 150 played those, at least casually, these days. Emilia didn’t much see the appeal. No matter how lighthearted the stories were, not only were there serious ethical issues—given most were populated by complex, living, feeling AIs—but they were all essentially the same thing: war simulators. The war might have ended, but the threat wasn’t gone. Echo events might have grown so rare most people would never run into one, but they still happened. The government wanted people to stay sharp—to stay prepared and connected to the aethernet. Raids were effectively a way for the government to train and monitor Baalphorians, just in case another war broke out.

Logically, she could see the need for raids and raid servers. People growing compliant and losing the ability to manipulate aether was a serious concern, but so was everyone’s mental health. Veteran groups had been protesting the inescapable raids since their inception. Even if the monsters within raids were nothing like the

things

they had fought during the war, having to use your willbrand again—having to kill again, even if they were simply creations of the raid system—without any say in the matter was a constant torment—a constant stirring up of trauma.

[Warning: Raid Release in 30 seconds]

Emilia looked around. There weren’t many people in this particular area of the raid. Other than herself, Sil and Beth, she could only see a half-dozen other heroes on her map within yelling distance. Over time, more heroes could officially connect to each other, creating a communication network, but this small of a raid rarely resulted in a fully connected network. Unless it turned out to be a mech raid or some big bad boss appeared and there were a few heroes with levels sub-30, something this small usually only lasted 10–15 minutes.

[Sil has added Lili to {Sil’s Silly Friends}]

Another name, and then another, popped up on Emilia’s Censor.

✮ ✮ ✮

[Sil’s Silly Friends]

[Beth: lvl 60, HP 100%, stats+]

[Sil: lvl 12, HP 100%, stats+]

[Em: lvl 109, HP 100%, stats+++]

[Lili: lvl 76, HP 92%, stats]

[Haru: lvl 17, HP 100%, stats++]

✮ ✮ ✮

[Shivar Raid]

[Raidland: {Tech is Dead}]

[Species: {Unknown} + {Unknown}]

[Time: 00:10]

[Heroes: 357/357]

[Invaders: ???/???]

✮ ✮ ✮

“Hey, gorgeous, what’s up?”

Emilia turned, finding Haru walking casually towards her. He had aethered himself out, as usual, his normal clothing falling away into some limited edition outfit created via a willbrand he’d received for scoring in the Top 100 Heroes a few years back. She was pretty sure he had ranked in the Top 100 the last five, but her kinda-sorta friend seemed to favour this particular outfit. It was almost pure black, the fabric loose around his tall, slim form, the sleeves hanging in long bells that looked both very impressive and very cumbersome when he fought. Not that they—or the baggy pants—seemed to inhibit him. He had once told her it had been designed by someone from The Core, one of the most secretive Free Colonies. Even those who left it never shared its secrets. This outfit, apparently inspired by a fashion common within The Core, was probably the most anyone had shared about its culture.

Even the few Corrists who had helped during the war hadn’t revealed their faces.

Emilia fiddled with her own willbrand. It sparked lightly in anticipation, purple and gold aether wrapping around her fingers as if urging her to use it. Unlike most hero’s, hers hadn’t come from the government, but it was also the only one she carried, unlike Sil or Haru, who each carried a half-dozen—rewards for being ranked top heroes. Even Beth carried two or three most of the time. Pria rarely remembered to put hers on.

“What’s up,” she sighed, leaning back against the wall of the building Sil and Beth had abandoned her at, “is I was tricked! Tricked and kidnapped!”

“Ah~” he laughed, taking a step, one moment meters away and the next leaning over her. He was so tall, the long back hair of his aetherform—one she didn’t think was fully the result of willbrands—falling in sheets around them. “I was wondering how you’d ended up here. Sil being a naughty little boy, eh?”

As far as Emilia knew, Haru was the closest any of Sil’s hookups had ever gotten to becoming friends with him. Haru wasn’t exactly their friend, but when they ran into him in raids—because, unfortunately, her so-called friends tricked her into participating much too often!—they were friendly enough. She had seen Sil abandon other hookups on the field without a shred of guilt, so Haru should definitely consider himself blessed.

[Sil has connected {We the Day!} to your network]

[Communication Network Expanded!]

[Communication Network: 23/357]

“Yes,” she sighed, letting her eyes flutter closed for a moment.

[Warning: Raid Release Imminent]

[Prepare Yourselves!]

[Sil has connected {Couple of Birds} to your network]

[Communication Network Expanded!]

[Communication Network: 31/357]

[

Sil:

Bait at

{Location}]

[

Samir:

same as usual?

]

[

Haru:

who else acts as such willing bait?

]

[Communication Network: Muted]

When she opened her eyes again, Haru was gone and the world had filled with giant bugs. Awesome. They were gross—hideous even—and looked nothing like the things they had fought during the war and all the echoes since. They also looked hilarious, their brightly coloured bodies contrasting too much against a world that had been taken over by dark, imposing plants. Across her Censor, [Species: {Unknown} + {Unknown}] updated to read [Species: {Crawlers} + {Unknown}].

They looked at her, standing all alone. They were programmed to hunt heroes down. They couldn’t kill you, but they could do enough damage that you’d be sore for a few days. She smiled, waved cheerfully, her fingers wiggling in what invaders often took as an inviting taunt.

One of the long bugs roared. It was huge, at least 20 feet long, with a million legs sticking out of its grey-blue body. Not just from the bottom like most

normal

bugs, but from all sides. Rolling it onto its back to stop it certainly wasn’t an option, it seemed. Its back half swished, sending a huge gust of wind smashing against the building.

Emilia smiled wider at it, her willbrand glowing a faint purple as its barrier expanded to protect her from the attack, neither her hair nor clothes rustling under the assault. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, if you’re hoping to get me~” she teased. Depending on the raid, the invaders could be programmed to be more or less intelligent. Given the way her teasing seemed to piss this one—and the collection of bugs around it—off, she guessed these ones were on the more intelligent side.

It huffed, a noxious looking gas beginning to waft off it. Lovely. Hopefully, it wasn’t one of those newer designs, where the scent would stick to you even outside of the raid. Some kind of public humiliation.

“Hey, look~ they got hit in a raid!”

because yes, of course getting hit by an attack that during a real echo event would have killed you was hilarious.

[Species: {Centaphoria}]

[Spec—]

Her Censor tried to give her a full write-up on the invader, but she brushed it aside. She didn’t need to know anything about it. She knew the big players memorized that stuff, glanced over the notifications whenever they raided, just to make sure nothing was odd about a particular incarnation.

Waste of brain space, in her humble opinion.

The bug roared, its mouth opening to reveal row upon row of tiny, jagged teeth. Its beady, teal eyes locked onto her, and then it was charging, every one of its legs moving as it ran. It rolled from side to side, momentum never slowing. It crashed through a tree, the black wood splintering and cracking so loudly Emilia cringed. At least it had briefly covered the sound of all those legs moving, so many of them that she could hear them.

Disgusting.

The bug continued charging and Emilia continued smiling it down, her arms and legs lazily crossed as it got closer, closer—so close she could smell its gas. Sickly sweet, like rot. A smell that would linger inside her if she breathed too much of it in.

A ray of blue light split through the aether and the invader. It exploded, blood and guts splattering across the dark grey grass. Emilia’s willbrand shuddered harshly against her chest as it exploded outward, disintegrating anything that got too close to her.

[Beth has killed {Centaphoria}]

In the corner of her vision, Emilia vaguely noted both her overall and raid contribution experience rising. She didn’t really care. Levelling down was useless for her. She didn’t participate in nearly enough raids to make caring about it worth her while, and she didn’t need to. She had a

reputation

. Within Piketown, at least, most people knew the silverstrain with the purple barrier willbrand was bait. Vague enough to go unnoticed outside of raids, specific enough that when she ran into people inside a raid, they had usually heard of her. She might not have a low level—in fact, it was rare for people to have a level over 100 this far into a season—but her willbrand was power. Her willbrand’s barrier was impenetrable to all but the most powerful bosses, which only appeared in special events.

The irony that her willbrand’s preferred form wasn’t defensive.

Another bug charged, another shot fired. Light and sound from Beth’s willbrand splintered through the air, a siren call to all invaders in the area. Beth’s stats weren’t too bad—level 60 was respectable, especially for someone who didn’t play often. She certainly didn’t avoid them like Emilia herself did, but Beth had been given an opportunity she had never expected, being able to attend Astrapan, and she took it seriously... usually.

Compared to most people, who had at least some experience playing video games and using willbrands and the aethernet in their youth, Beth had never really had an opportunity to play before the government mandated raids had started, just after the war had ended a decade ago. Even a decade of this wasn’t enough experience for her to match the skill of people who had fought in the war or been playing their entire life—against people who tracked raids and actively trained, like Haru and Sil.

Which was why they often let Beth take out the first wave of invaders, before the masses arrived and the front-line heroes came out of their hiding spots.

Another shot. Another. Another.

Beth waited until each invader locked onto Emilia, giving her an extra boost of level and contribution exp because the system considered her actively involved in combat, even if the creature never touched her. With each death, the paydrop she’d get from this raid rose, and eventually, she felt the familiar tug of her level lowering—of her access to the simultaneously augmented and limited aethernet of raids becoming a little smoother.

A smile tugged at her lips as Beth took another shot, this one farther into the distance. Apparently, these invaders were quite intelligent, if something that far away had already been targeting her. Around her, the world filled with invaders and their noise. So, so many legs. Everything seemed to have too many legs. Some of their legs moved together, like the {Centaphoria}’s had. The legs of others seemed to hang uselessly from their bodies, some even looking atrophied, as though the legs were a genetic abnormality.

Somehow, the limp legs were worse than the legs running stupidly through the air.

There were so many bugs—so many eyes on her. Hundreds of pairs watching her because Beth was good at her job. Beth was good at attracting trouble, both inside raids and out in the real world.

Emilia glanced at her updated raid information.

✮ ✮ ✮

[Shivar Raid]

[Raidlands: {Tech is Dead}]

[Species: {Crawlers} + {Unknown}]

[Time: 03:27]

[Heroes: 327/357]

[Invaders: 967/1092]

✮ ✮ ✮

So, just over a hundred destroyed in 3 minutes, and somehow, 30 heroes down. That was… odd. Maybe some of them had been grossed out by the bug aspect of them and panicked? She knew a few people who were deathly afraid of bugs. Like,

I have one of the most powerful willbrands in existence but run screaming from tiny, friendly bugs

level of fear.

Hopefully, that was all it was.

[Communication Network: 56/357], her Censor informed her before she had even thought to check. Still small—small enough that something worse than the bugs could have popped up on the other side of the area, and they would have no idea.