Daniel Nyman, Sergeant First Class in the Emperor's Guard, walked to the city wall with his player team. The whole Council of Man was close behind. Dozens of other teams were marching in loose formation towards the invaders.
It was what theyâd all trained for. For months now in the simulations. In the Neutral Zone. Against invading non-humans and planars. A great battle for the ages.
But Daniel had never felt fear like he did in that moment. He and his teamâone of the best in the cityâhad fought the eastern six man team and lost. They hadnât lost badly, and if it was just people like that he was up against, it wouldnât have phased him. But it wasnât.
It was Mason Nimitz.
Like everyone else, heâd watched âThe Wolf of the Westâ face the emperor
and
his Minister of War, and beat them both. Heâd hoped the emperor would improve himselfâthat heâd come to his players and tell them how things were, and that theyâd need to spend every waking moment preparing for this day.
But he hadnât. The leadership had been silent. No one on the council or any of the senior officers discussed the loss, or what theyâd do about it. No one discussed the possibility that Mason Nimitz was maybe unstoppable. That they should surrender to him because he could be the best hope for mankind to âwinâ the game. Whatever the hell that meant.
Daniel could stand a tyrant. He could stand harsh rules and order with an iron fist and some men with most and other men with little. But he couldnât stand incompetence. So
he
had discussed it.
âDying fighting either of those men makes no sense,â heâd argued, way back in the Neutral Zone, in the privacy of his teamâs joint room. âTheyâll fight. And when it happens, we wait and let them. We keep the fuck out of the way. We join the winner.â
âEasy to say. And that kinda talk could get you killed,â had said Achmed, their pure caster. They met eyes and he knew the man only said it because they were friends. That because any other member of the team could tell someone who mattered, and Daniel would die that afternoon. But he knew as heâd said it that he trusted those men with his life. Heâd met all their eyes.
âWe donât die for no reason. If it comes to it, we get away. We wait. Jeong doesnât deserve our loyalty.
None
of them do. They couldnât give two shits about us. So we wait. We stay alive. Agreed?â
One by one the men had nodded. They hadnât discussed it since. Not a word. But now they were here being marched to their deaths with the cowardly emperor nowhere in sight. He was sending them in like cannon fodder, probably hoping theyâd use up some of his enemyâs mana or kill some of his people and make him sloppy with rage.
It was so stupid. So selfish and incompetent and pathetic. But what the hell could Daniel do about it with the whole council standing right there? He had to get them out. Get them away. Once the fighting started, and the chaos began, he knew it could happen.
As he saw the now huge walls, a piece of him hoped the enemy couldnât get inside. But he knew they would. Daniel had to get his team to understandâto go pure defensive, to fall back and scatter in the closest buildings when things got wild.
Theyâd arrived now and stopped at the main street that circled the city, a good fifty feet of open ground between the wall and the nearest buildings. The Minister of War was shouting orders and making some ridiculous speech about fighting for the emperor. Like anyone in the holy city fought for him for any reason except necessity.
âWhere are the other players?â he wanted to shout. âWhere is
anyone
not forced by being part of the Great Mighty Jeongâs House?â
But it made no damn difference. He moved closer to his men and got their attention. Jeong had too many damn spies. He had to be careful.
âDelta Pattern,â he said meaningfully. Their team was aggressive and almost always attacked. But Delta was their defensive posture. A âwait and seeâ that meant donât go all-in until Daniel gave the command.
The men exchanged looks, but nodded, just like they had in the Neutral Zone. Daniel took a breath and wiped sweat from his brow. He ignored the Minister and looked up at the top of the wall, feeling like any moment that madman and his bow and his giant wolf would come leaping over.
âWe deal with the weaker players first,â he said, hoping
keep the fuck away from Nimitz
was understood.
Again his men nodded, and again Daniel turned and stared at the wall. They watched in silence together, ignoring that ridiculous manâs speech together, just as theyâd survived the game so far together.
Daniel wiped another few beads of sweat off his forehead.
**
âWell I guess the shopping tripâs canceled,â Mason heard someone say as they all climbed to the top of the wall and looked over. He few people laughed, and he couldnât help but grin.
The enemy players had arrived. Looked like nearly a hundred of the bastards, all in Jeongâs colors. Nobody was blasting off powers yet. They all sort of just stood there and staredâMason and his people from the top of the wall. A loose cluster of red colored men and women staring up at them from a wide street.
It was a tense, surreal moment. Theyâd slipped past 90% of the wall defences without any problems because of Beckyâs prestige power. Some of his people were still shooting down flying creatures, or tossing zombies off the ramp below like they were playing with toddlers. He was pretty sure he saw John yawn.
All the buildings and people inside reminded Mason of the old worldâmade him feel more âhumanâ, like he had in a crowd less than a year before. The chaos made him anxious. Overwhelmed by all other man-shaped predators around him. Vulnerable from some angle he couldnât see.
Except that part of him had shrunk. It was a quiet whisper now behind a roar of understanding: he didnât need to be afraid of these people. They needed to be afraid of him.
âOrders, Patron?â Phuong said beside him, blasting some skeleton flying with a weaved pattern of his purple sword.
âNothings changed,â he said. âBe cautious. Iâll go down for a chat. But expect to fight.â
He waited for a question, but when nothing came he growled at Streak to stay, then leapt the fifty feet straight to the paved road, landing with a crack. He stood before the enemy players, glancing at a few of their nearby, allied corpses for effect.
âAll I want is Jeong.â
The sea of sweaty faces stared, and said nothing. They hardly even moved.
âWe outnumber them five to one,â called a voice from their back.
âYeah.â Mason smiled. He tried not to want this. He really did.
âEnough talk,â called the same voice. It was familiar. Maybe Jeongâs little friend. âLeave, or die.â
âFunny,â Mason called back. âThatâs what those dead guys said.â
Violence grew heavy like moisture in the air, but the moment was long and still. Mason looked between the players and saw familiar facesâa few members of Jeongâs council. People heâd fought or seen fight in the Neutral Zone. It seemed the mighty emperor had really sent his best and most loyal people to fight without him.
But why? Did he really think theyâd succeed where he himself had failed? No. He would know theyâd only make Mason stronger. That they wouldnât be able to stop him. So what game was the man playing? It couldnât just be fear. Was he getting internal rivals killed?
Even if that was true, Mason was
pretty
willing to play along. Especially with his people vulnerable and behind him. He did his best to wait, to think, to give these people the chance to change their minds and take off those robes. They were human beings in a terrible situation. They hadnât been murderers or tyrants before all this. He could still give them one last chance to walk away.
âItâs not too late,â he said, meeting a few different eyes. âWhatever you did, or didnât do. You can end it now. You can stillâŠâ
The emperorâs friend stepped out from a small crowd, body twisting as he formed a red, swirling javelin, and threw it. The man moved fast, Mason gave him that. The power of the throw was impressive, too. It would have made every Olympic athlete on old earth stand and stare with slack jawed wonder.
Mason slapped the metal away like it was nothing and formed his bow, putting a Power Shot right back at the manâs throat. A shield flared blue as the missile exploded and stopped before it arrived.
âKill them!â Damian screamed. âOr be hung as a traitor!â
Mason saw the reluctance. The fear. But dozens of men and women moved to obey. The air hummed with power; the paved streets cracked and burst; light began to glow in a dozen spheres and cones and silhouettes around the enemy.
âLight âem up, yaâll!â Becky called from somewhere behind him on the wall. More power and grunting efforts came from his own side. They were strong, but they were outnumbered badly.
Mason had to make sure the enemy didnât have much time to target them.
Instinct and necessity overcame everything. He fought the urge to take and withstand whatever they threw at him, just to show he could. He clicked Aspect of the Cheetah, and bolted.
The emperorâs hand was his target. But heâd take off any other body part that got in range. He loosed a Crippling blast and a number of other shots as he ran, all of which hit shield. Heâd be draining their mana, but he was draining his own, too.
Streak soared over the top of the wall and the players, dropping as easily as Mason, howling as he raced to get closer. Mason didnât hold him back. He was so big and tough now, combined with shared passives and Pain if needed, he had no fear for the equally overpowered creature.
He angled his sprint and summoned his Claws, charging towards a pack of at least ten players. They scattered and hit him with bursts of force like Blakeâs Telekinesis. Stronger âshieldsâ or walls of purplish energy appeared like football blockers.
Some cracked, some broke, his resistances flaring as he pushed and slashed his way through. A cyclone of water swirled around his legs. Projectiles struck his chest in quick succession, each leaving what looked like smoke until they curled around him like rope.
He growled and pushed, twisted, slashed. But there were just too damn many effects from those casters in the back. It was awfully tempting to nullify all their magic, but he was a bit too close to his friends for comfort. And getting him to use his abilities might be the point.
Maybe Jeong had told them to wear down his mana and his abilities, get his players hurt or overwhelmed, waiting to attack when he was âweakâ. It made the most sense.
Mason struggled and fought with the enemy right in front of him, but he was ready. He was waiting. He knew he really only had one target. One man to kill to end it all.
A few more seconds and he was through the first round of magic defence. The players were falling back again, their leader shouting and calling them cowards. Some had gone to exchange ranged shots with his people above.
But he could already sense the panic. The diverted attention as several held off Streak, or had to deal with his people. They couldnât hold him off. Not for long. And if something didnât change, or Jeong didnât arrive, the slaughter would soon begin.