Episode 11.1 - A Final Break

Episode 11 - The Limits of a Mechanical Heart

It's amazing what a little TLC can do for someone. After our somewhat terse reunion, we bustled Mike off to have some food and a much-needed bath. Soon, he fell asleep like the dead. He wasn't the only one, actually - by the time I got back to her room, Eshu had fallen back asleep. I didn't have the heart to wake her; maybe that was wrong, I'm not sure.

As for Mike, when he steps out onto the green today, beneath a sweltering sun high above, he gleams. That fantastic blond hair back to its former glory, a proper set of white-steel armour with brass trimmings and a vibrant red cape behind him, hung on big pauldron shoulders - he looks the very picture of some heroic paladin.

The armour was Flint's doing. There wasn't time to forge a whole new set, but he had this one recovered from the ruins of the old town, and quickly adjusted its size to fit our new colleague. It would be ideal to use the system menu to buy ourselves armour from the sci-fi game world, but sadly, it's rather costly. Lila says we're low on funds after buying those massive batteries and cables to power our perimeter of laser turrets.

Sek smirks as he gives Mike's new look a once-over, "Can't believe you got Flint to add space so that you could still wear that old piece underneath, makes you look like a girl."

Mike laughs, a light sound. A lot of that tension from yesterday is still present, especially in his pained smile, but some rest has really done him wonders. That gentlemanly persona has recovered a little. I smile at Sek's jab; the chest area of Mike's new gear is indeed quite outcropped to allow him to wear that tiny piece of sci-fi armour underneath.

He grins too, "Oh-ho, it isn't confusing your male sensibilities too much, is it?"

"You wish."

"Heh, well then," he beckons to Sek's waist with his eyes. We're not just here to catwalk the new armour; in fact, we're all kitted up in our usual gear.
     Sek draws the chain-longsword from its sheath. Mike gives it an appraising look, "Sheesh, that's an above-average make, better than my field-sword. Custom, too, I say? I didn't know the menu had customs."

Sek's face beams with second-hand pride, "Flint's work actually."

"Eh? Fantasy blacksmiths sure are something. And you, Miss Ko?"

I find my cheeks redden slightly at that address. Now that he's cleaned up, the utter hottie who first visited us is back in full force. I present my gauntlets, the silvery-blue of recycled metal from the Scout-Drones reflecting in the sunlight.

"Good-lord, these are nice too!”

“How about magic?” I ask, feeling rather excited about it. Lila gave us the go-ahead to use what we've been learning in combat at long last.

Mike pales, “Ah, no. No magic, please.”

I droop, “Naw, come on, I've never gotten to show it off in real battle even once yet!”

“Quite, my lady, so please don't make me your test dummy!” he exclaims, and, after an appropriately timed moment, we all laugh.
     He turns his eyes next to my… “You’ve got leg guards, too, I see. Do you mix in the odd kick? Probably not wise against Killer-Drones, they won’t lose balance and the reverberation… Umm, you ok?”

“Would you quit it with the legs thing already!” I snap, then instantly cover my mouth with my hand. Sek winces in the corner of my vision.
     “Sorry you weren’t to know, please carry on," I hastily add.

“Err, if you’re sure!” Mike replies with a forced chuckle, clearly completely lost. I feel bad, but trying to explain wouldn’t exactly help. Now is hardly the time to talk about it.
“Well then, there shouldn't be any equipment issues. Shall we try sparing?"

Sek plants his legs firmly, sword held in front of him with both hands, "I've been waiting for this." I can’t tell if he’s being so enthusiastic to cover for my little outburst just now or not.

Mike smirks. He steps over to be a couple of feet in front of Sek and draws his own chain-blade. It's much slimmer, more like a rapier or katana, but he still takes a two-handed hold. His stance is markedly different from Sek's; he holds the blade high, hilt at eye level. His feet are also positioned much closer together, a stance clearly intended to move immediately into either a lunge forward or a hasty kick backwards, compared with Sek's more defensively spread legs and firm footholds.

"Why's that then?" he asks.

"Heh, all that flirting you do with Ko. Now look, I'm not so insecure anymore that I think you could 'steal' her--"
     I offer him a smile, glad to hear it and reminded again that the issue he has with my legs really does seem to be one entirely in my head. Man, I really wish I could shake these stupid anxieties over it…
     "--but I'm not so confident it doesn't bug me a bit, too."

"What? Oh, I see. Now that is my bad. You should know I--" Mike starts.

"Nah, man, let the swords do the speaking," Sek replies, trying to sound like some cool anime samurai, no doubt.

"Yes, but you see, I'm gay."

"Huh?"
     Whoosh - That’s the word that crosses my mind as, in three rapid bounds, Mike is upon a befuddled Sek. Their blades never meet, Mike's rests his on Sek's neck before he can even react.

"HUH?!"

For the next while, we take turns sparing, with Mike's traumatic time spent in the wastelands hunting drones really showing its worth. He proceeds to wreck us both over and over. At some point, he starts flicking the odd pebble in among his other attacks, explaining that we need to increase our awareness for projectiles; just because we plan to only fight drones that make it through the barrier, doesn't mean we can forget their laser guns.

I do slightly better than Sek, but I also have the level advantage over Mike, and even then he wins the vast majority of bouts. Still, it's fun to spar with someone new. If anything, I was worried such one-sided scraps would be boring for him, but I needn't have worried. Thanks to Lila's providing the supplies, Mike is now in the 'Drone-Slayer-specialist' class. It's from WarLands, but the system automatically categorises it as a Tier 2 class with a maximum level of two hundred.

Unlike my class of Nekomata, the sci-fi styled ones don't come with spells and growth in magic; instead, he has a whole variety of different skills and perks. Both Mike and Sek remembered it from the game; a jack of all trades affair, for the player that will snipe, ambush, charge head-on and retreat just as fast. Mike seems very pleased with it and says sparing is the perfect way to test it out and get comfortable.

Eventually, we break for lunch, camping out on the bottom slope of the fort's hill; behind us are the little windows and tiny doors of the Estolpfo warrens and ahead the sight of the wooden-frame village - people working away in the fields, or making their rounds of the town - it makes for a peaceful scenery.

"Did you really mean that 'bout being gay?" Sek grumbles.

"As a Christmas tree! So you needn't fret so much about flirting."

"Yes, but you aren't going to flirt with me then?"

"Pft," I can't help myself from cracking up at that, "He's always been flirting with you."

"Eh!?" Sek stares at me, dumbfounded.
     I grin, "Not so much in words but with his eyes, his body language. You really didn't notice?"

"That's rather embarrassing to say out loud like that, Miss Ko," Mike murmurs.

He often speaks in a slightly fake, posh accent, like some gentleman knight or the like - but when he's embarrassed, or when he was all tense yesterday, the polite words disappear and his authentic American voice seeps out. It's cute in a way, similar to how Sek’s British slang peeps out occasionally.

Said ‘Brit’ scoots comically away from where we're sitting. One pace, two, three, wild-eyed and wary.

"Hey now, don't be such a girl."

Mike offers a kind smile, "Jokes aside, you're not really my type."

"Boo! My poor fantasies crushed," I mutter a little too earnestly.

We continue like that for a while, finding a far easier flow than before, perhaps because our demon friends aren't around. I get the impression Mike still needs some space on that front.
He takes a particular interest in our dealings with the Drone-Scouts; "Say, you didn't happen to meet a player in the town you liberated? I knew someone there once. A bit young, hadn't really settled into Escape properly, but not a bad kid."

"I..." Sek gives me a look, but I shake my head; I don't want to lie about that. The images of that day still visit me sometimes: The NPCs tortured and fed to machines, and maybe most of all, the player character the drones had tied to a chair, the person they shot dead right in front of me.

"We did, yes," I say gently, "He didn't make it. I tried and, well, failed to help him. The drones killed him because I wasn't strong enough..."

Mike listens intently, not showing any obvious emotions on his face. When I finish, he smiles slightly, turning to stare out at our village, "So that's how it went down? He had a partner, you know, she was one of the missing players. They'd been on an overworld quest and ended up in that remote town. In the middle of the night, she disappeared. No notes, no NPC saw it, no players ever heard from her again; just gone. That guy decided he'd stay there, wait for her to come back - he was convinced she would eventually. He was a bit cowardly to be honest, last I saw of him, he was a wreck, anxiously awaiting her return."

That fits, harsh as it is to say of the dead. I remember him trying to bargain with the drones, asking them to make him a sort of business partner instead of their captive. I say dead, we still can't be sure how that works in Escape these days - but the thought of a spawn point in the wasteland, the possibility of an infinite death loop - is worse to imagine than 'just' death.

I nod at Mike, "He was brave too, I think... I know I don't have the right to say so, but the last thing he did was try to help me, signal me with his eyes that reinforcements were coming."

"Ha! Is that so? That crazy kid," Mike grins massively, it's a bit goofy, ill-suited to his over-designed handsome face, which, if anything, makes it all the more warming of a smile.
     He lays a hand on my shoulder, "Thanks for that. I'm sure he'd be grateful you tried your best, instead of spending his life as some robot scum’s plaything. And thank you for that image, I think that little moment of bravery is how I'd like to remember him."

I smile right back, "Ya, me too."

“Actually,” Mike suddenly adds, “Those scouts you met, their commander, did he ever act strange?”

“Hmmmm?” Sek puts a hand on his chin, “Now you mention it, he asked for mercy of all things near the end. It really pissed Lila off.”

“Fascinating,” Mike nods, “When I was stalking the Killer-Drone captain, that happened to me a couple of times as well. Not cries for mercy, but saying things, words and phrases that he never would have had in WarLands. It was gradual; at first, all he said was the stock catchphrases, but over time, it was like he was changing.”

Sek shrugs, “Escape seems to do weird things to all its AI, even the lesser mobs and stuff. But I mean, doesn’t really change anything whether the Killer-Drones have extra vocabulary or not, right?”

“True enough,” Mike nods after a moment’s consideration, "Right then, a few more rounds?"

"Urk!" Sek mutters, brokering a laugh from us.

As we're putting away the detritus of a nice picnic, a voice calls out that almost makes me question if I'm dreaming, "Heya, guys."

"Eshu!" stepping daintily down the slope is our bedridden partner, awake and dressed in her usual mix of assassin's cowl with sloppy shorts and top; though she's wearing the hood in a rather more timid, shawl-like manner.

"Eshu? Ah, without the gym clothes, I hardly recognised you," Mike adds.
    I turn to him slyly, "Make that joke again and you'll regret it."

"How are you?" Sek says, making his way over to her.

"Ehehe, I've made you all worry a lot, I'm sorry."

I shake my head, taking one of her hands in mine, "Don't worry about any of that, it's just great to see you up. Oh, this is Mike, you remember from a while back?"
     Eshu nods, fixing her bright eyes on our new friend.

He steps over and seems to hesitate for a moment, a shadow of doubt crossing his face, but passing just as soon - he offers his hand, "I won't deny there were times I kind of cursed you, thought I'd have been better off without your warning; dying in all the carnage. But I want to think those thoughts are just weakness. I'm grateful you gave me that warning; that's what I've decided."

Eshu looks a little taken aback. Her hair is messier than usual, magenta locks covering her surprised eyes slightly - after a moment, she shakes his offered hand.
     Then she turns to me, her face growing firm, "I’m really sorry for interrupting, that time you know, when you guys were, umm, talking. And for being clingy yesterday, that was selfish of me. I heard about your plan, I want to do it."

I smile, "No, seriously, it’s fine, it wasn’t the right moment for it, and as for yesterday, I'm sorry I didn't get back sooner. As for the plan, you're sure?"

She nods, "Lying in bed all day isn't good enough, let me do this much at least."

"Oh, Eshu, it's good to see you up!" I can't help myself, diving onto her in a big hug. Compared with her groggy state last morning, just seeing her walking around feels like a blessing.

"Ehehehe, me too."

A part of me wants to ask, use this opportunity to try and get her to open up again - but honestly, just holding her in my arms again is enough for the moment. Getting to the bottom of her condition can surely wait a little longer.

Just in time, too; tomorrow is the day. We will crush that army. I find myself in oddly little doubt of that, surprised with just how assured I feel. And after that, before the next hurdle appears, whether it be robot or demon shaped - I'll sit down with this girl and with Sek, and we’ll talk everything through, at long last, close these growing gaps once and for all - of that I also have no uncertainty.