Destroy them all

An explosion rocked Sorostade’s Temple Quarter, just beyond a small park and across a brick-and-mortar bridge over the river from the Royal Household in the central part of the city. Pieces of roof tiles, masonry, wooden beams, and stained glass shot up and rained well over the area, inside and outside the compound. The large square near it was strewn with debris, but none of it was charred. There was no heat, no fire, and no smoke. It was as if a small chapel in the complex, one that had been sealed shut for a very long time, had a cataclysmic sneeze. Some people got minor wounds from the falling objects, but there was a chance someone was under the chapel’s rubble.

There were no walls around the Temple Quarter, so just about anyone could enter. In fact, the Priesthood wanted visitors. How else would they preach their faith if there were barriers to entry? And enter people did. Priests, townsfolk of both noble and common background, and a few Players who happened to be nearby. Curiosity and the urge to provide aid drove them, perhaps against their better judgement. Were it a fire then there would be panic and tumult, but there was nothing to scare people off, other than dirt.

Dust still somewhat filled the air above them blocking some of the sun, which was how the sudden darkening of the skies went unnoticed for people in the area. Others noticed, but did not make much of it. Weather changes, nothing surprising about it.

The news spread quickly and when it reached Rockbase, there was more distress than in the Temple Quarter itself. Oneiron’s face went pale, since he believed someone must have had enough of the Priesthood’s arrogance and bigotry against the Players and snapped, unleashing the terrible power they were capable of. He rushed to find his Administration colleagues, but unknown to him, Esther and Seelastraxx were already going to the site of the incident. Teec had been in the Royal Household at the time, as far as they knew.

A trio of Players whom Esther and Seelastraxx did not know by name were torn between digging at the rubble with their own hands and respecting the very persistent and loud demands of a group of white-robed clerics led by none other than Pontifex Vivaro to get out. Pontifex, the source of several problems for the already troubled people banished into this world, stood with his back to the Administration duo and could not see them coming. The Players before did though, and were twice as happy to see it was Seelastraxx herself coming towards them. They looked to their own Priestess for guidance.

‘Keep digging!’ said Seelastraxx, her tone leaving no room for doubt. Pontifex turned around to regard more of the Players he so disliked, only to see it was the one whom he hated the most. His normally kind eyes narrowed as he looked her outfit up and down, and his fatherly, wrinkled face reddened with very rarely seen anger. The three Players went to lift pieces of rubble and throw them aside with increased vigor, now that someone arrived to take the scrutiny and hostility from them.

‘You! How dare you show yourself here! You violate our sacred ground with your faithless, rotten presence!’ complained the middle-aged man in a funny hat who was also the most powerful man in the kingdom after the ruling monarch. In his mind, there was no “after” though. He clutched a staff in one hand, while the other pointed a ring-adorned, wizened finger at anything or anyone. He glared from underneath thick eyebrows. ‘Leave! Begone, and cover your flesh! Harlot, priestess of nothing but vanity!’

‘My dear Pontifex, we are here out of concern, not to-’

‘I don’t care what you came for! You temptress, you snake in the grass! Where you go, you cause ruin!’, he gestured to the heap of detritus that was a two-storey tall chapel once. ‘Do you not see?’

‘What happened here?’ asked Esther, happy to take some of the heat on herself, with her skin well covered. Her voice had a pleasant, calm quality to it, whereas Seelastraxx’s was somewhat raspy and uncontrolled, contrasting with her looks.

‘Did you not hear me, witch?’ Vivaro was increasingly annoyed. Seelastraxx had been stoic about Pontifex’ rhetoric, but insults towards Esther would always sharpen her mood. For the moment she chose to bite her tongue. She also noticed that most of the assembled crowd was supportive of the head of their faith regardless of the Pontifex’s attitude, judging by their body language.

‘Are you not worried someone might be hurt underneath all this? Surely if we caused this ruin, as you said, then we should do our best to remediate it?’ Esther kept asking.

‘You’d do best to be away. Take your blasphemy whence you came from and cease polluting my city with your frivolous attitudes!’

‘Honorable Pontifex, is it not written thusly in The Bearing of the Word? Apostles of the Word shall be the paragons and the beacons, and by their actions you shall know them?’ said a voice from behind the Mage and Priestess, someone who came the same way they did. The crowd parted with hushed voices, and through it came simply-dressed Lord Regent Tepper, flanked by four Royal Guards and with Teec in tow. ‘Surely we of your city can display grace by at least returning the politeness? We should aspire to be better than that.’

‘Regent,’ hissed Pontifex Vivaro, still defiant and unwilling to yield, and if he muttered anything else, the wind that had been somewhat gaining in force carried his words away.

‘Surely you can tell me what happened here?’ asked Tepper. Dust swirled on the wind that tugged at everyone’s clothes. ‘I recall a chapel stood here, an old one, and always locked shut.’

‘It was so. It risked collapse, and it was locked for safety reasons. It’s what must have happened.’

‘How odd! I’ve never seen a building collapse outwards, shooting debris up and away like that.’

The pile of detritus shifted, and the few Players who kept digging suddenly got alarmed and focused their efforts on a specific space. ‘Someone’s here!’ they yelled back to the arguing leaders. The conversation kept going, but Seelastraxx strode forward ignoring Vivaro’s protests, ready to provide healing. Whoever survived that “collapse” must have been in bad shape.

But there was no injured victim. The last of the masonry and planks were pushed out from the inside, and to the accompaniment of cheers and claps, out of the pile emerged a very dirty, dust-covered, and torn-clothed figure wearing traveling clothes and dragging a large backpack behind him. He was bleeding from many wounds. He raised his head to regard the gathering, and seemed more surprised than anyone else, either by the sheer size of the crowd, the identity of the gathered figures, or by the place he found himself in. It was likely all three of the above. He did not seem to be affected by his wounds at all. Perhaps he was in shock. Or perhaps he just did not care anymore.

He was visibly changed, but there was no mistake. Senkar the Portal Diver returned home.

With him came havoc.

—

It was heavy, it was red-hot, and it was falling like a rock.

In fact, it had been a rock, for the most part. Animated, semi-sentient but fully malicious. The rocky part of its brain, if it even had one, was unafraid of falling because fear was a product of self-preservation urges, and it had none of that. The fiery part was eager to hit the ground and cause mayhem and ruin.

It saw its mark. A complex structure, organised, arranged. An insult, a provocation to his entropic tendencies. As it gained detail in the creature’s mind-eye, the creature understood it to be a nest, a system of dwellings. It grew on what once was nothing but soil, and soon it would be just that again.

—

‘Why did you not report to us first?’

Senkar blinked in confusion. Seelastraxx started to suspect the Portal Diver had injured his head. However, the confusion was of a different nature than his lack of understanding of the question. On the inside he was getting annoyed again. It was like that situation with the gryphon riders who started asking him weird questions all of the sudden, as if assuming something about him without asking first.

‘How the frakk was I supposed to go see you first?’

‘You just arrived and the first thing you did was… get inside a locked chapel and collapse it? I don’t understand.’

‘Uh,’ Senkar stammered. He turned back to regard the collapsed building he had just emerged from, clutching his bleeding arm. He had cut it deeply somewhere in the process, but he was more concerned with the bloodstains than the pain. ‘Alright, I see what’s the problem here. Look at this,’ he said, dropping the bag and climbing onto the rubble pile. ‘Stand back for a second guys,’ he told the few Players at work.

Senkar grabbed a large piece of roof that somehow managed to stay in a large chunk, and hauled it aside. The pushed away a few chunks of stone, took a deep breath, blew away a layer of dust, then he pointed a finger at something it revealed.

‘See this?’ he asked everyone and without waiting for an answer, he slid back down.

‘I’ll be damned,’ Seelastraxx said, and for once, Pontifex Vivaro wordlessly agreed with her words. In fact, he suddenly became very speechless, and very nervous. The revealed object was a black mineral, embossed with runewords, and curving inwards as if it was forming a circle.

‘That’s a Waygate,’ said Teec from behind Tepper’s back. ‘The very same thing we were assured by the Church that it does not exist in this city and never did. By the way, what’s up with this wacky weather?’

In the background crowd a few heads were raised and a few hands pointed at something high above.

Pontifex Vivaro stared at Senkar with steeled fury in his eyes, his lips shut tight in a zigzag line.

More people pointed up. Some looked around nervously. Voices were raised. Suddenly, a rumble was heard, as if the very air around them shuddered. Somewhere in the distance a loud thud was heard.

They initially did not pay attention to the background, but Senkar, Esther, Teec, Seelastraxx, Vivaro, Tepper noticed the anxious ticks in the corners of their eyes. They followed the crowd and looked up.

From a sky that moments ago had been clear and sunny, but now brimmed with heavy clouds etched with inner lightning strikes menacingly hanging over the city like a lid over a vessel, a dozen burning objects were hurtling directly down towards Sorostade, trailing tails of smoke. One had already hit the ground in the city, causing an explosion and shockwave. The ground shook.

Another one still up in the air seemed to be unmoving, but a few of the faster-thinking observers knew it was an illusion. It was coming straight at them.

A cleric tugged at the robe of Pontifex Vivaro. ‘Father, we should flee!’ he urged. Some townsfolk turned to run. Vivaro nodded and turned to head down the alley. Likewise, the Royal Guards unceremoniously grabbed Lord Regent to push him toward the Household.

It was too late. The meteor hit them at tremendous speed, enough to wipe everything in a fifty feet radius from the face of the planet and leave a crater.

An explosion and a firestorm erupted, thick billows of smoke occluded vision, and the noise of the impact dazed and stunned. But the point of impact was above the people on the ground, people who miraculously did not die. They were all deafened and disoriented, some on their knees and heads between their arms or in fetal positions. But one among them stood tall, hands raised high, her face grimacing from great strain was invisible inside the maelstrom of platinum hair thrown in all directions by the maddened air currents. The image of an angelic maiden was burned in the retina of those who did not hunker down and instead gazed upon her, but they would later question themselves if what they saw was real or only imagined.

A dome of golden light shielded them, luminous and beautiful, but ephemeral. It would not last, and within only moments it started to shimmer, and then faded as if it was never there.

Seelastraxx sank to her knees, unable to hold the Providence any longer. It took every bit of mana and stamina she had. Blood leaked from her nostrils. Esther rushed to her and knelt beside, holding the Priestess upright.

A rumble they felt through their feet reminded everyone that the threat was not gone. Not only were more meteors coming, but the meteors were not meteors at all. They were red-hot rock elementals, tall as a merchant house, and their very presence boiled the air around them. Lava flowed from cracks in them like blood from a wound.

Seelastraxx’ monumental accomplishment of invoking the Providence in such a short time and no preparation dampened the impact, but the elemental was not destroyed. It bounced sideways into a nearby wall, crashing into it like a cannonball, and now rose from inside the structure shedding it like an unnecessary layer of clothing, and set its fiery gaze on the mortals that stood in its way.

Seelastraxx’ mouth moved as she gestured vaguely towards the weaker humans, her eyes pleading at Esther. Everyone was deafened from the impact, but Esther understood despite the heavy ringing in her ears. The Mage rose to her feet, grabbed the shoulder of Pontifex Vivaro, and shoved him away from the enemy.

‘R-U-N,’ she mouthed to him and his retinue. They obeyed. Meanwhile The Royal Guard needed no orders or reminders and were already evacuating Lord Regent in the same direction, their discipline doing them credit. Teec, knowing himself to be useless in a fight, lifted Seelastraxx and carried her following them, along with Senkar who was clearly ill-equipped to deal with that enemy too.

Behind them Esther gathered her power, the surge of force gently lifting her off the ground. Blue and white energies gathered at her fingertips, and crystals of ice formed all around her despite the overwhelming heat.

It had been many days since she last practiced magic and now random, innocent people could pay for her lapse.

—

Almost everyone in Rockbase saw the fiery missiles hit the city and the grounds outside it, and those who missed them definitely heard them and felt the ground tremble. People rushed towards the freshly built and paved Town Hall Square to learn from others what was happening. A dozen, at first. Then a few dozen. Then a hundred, and more. Oneiron was there, along with his squad of peacekeepers, men and women he trusted implicitly and sometimes exercised with in dungeons.

When a towering mass of molten rock staggered out from a crash that obliterated several houses within their own district, everyone understood what was happening.

Oneiron took a deep breath, and raised his hand to get people’s attention.

‘We are under attack,’ he declared for all to hear. ‘We practiced for this! Draw your weapons!’

He did a quick scan of people assembled on the Square looking back at him, or up to him, and he took stock of those he recognized and those who looked strong but were unknown to him. A quick glance was enough.

‘Tycho!’ he called out, and the fully-plated Warrior turned his armored visage towards the Administrator. Oneiron beckoned the man closer, and pointed towards the enemy.

‘You grab twenty people and kill that thing. Make it thirty, just in case. Stay behind in case more drop. You two, you five, and you three,’ Oneiron finger-pointed ten people standing by, looking way less ready to fight, ‘you put down the fires and evac any NPCs if you see them. Everyone else!’ he shouted to everyone within hearing range. He lifted his black broadsword high, pointing the way. ‘To the city! Destroy them all!!’

—

The massive double-door to the Church of the Beggar swung open, pushed inwards by two of the Royal Guards assisting Lord Regent Tepper. In came the five of them, the clerics with Pontifex Vivaro wheezing from exhaustion, and Teec carrying conscious but weakened Seelastraxx in his arms. A number of citizens followed, sheltering from the outside dangers behind half a metre thick walls of brick and mortar. Last came Senkar the Portal Diver, ironically seeming unimpressed by what was happening. They kept the door open to allow more people fleeing the hurricane wind, the heat, and whatever else could follow. The wind extinguished all the candles in the church, and due to the heavy overcast outside the stained-glass windows offered little natural light.

Teec gently put Seelastraxx on a bench, resting her back against a cold, plastered wall below an impressive oil painting. She wiped the blood that leaked from her nose and her lips with her wrist, leaving a smear. It did not make her look much better, but she was smiling as if in spite of it.

‘Thanks,’ she said, and licked her teeth to see if she still had all of them.

‘You are full of surprises,’ Teec told her, scratching his neatly trimmed beard. ‘To raise that shield on the spot, on an instinct? Your talents are wasted here. You should be out there, raiding bosses.’

‘No, thanks. I’m an indoor cat,’ she said, fixing her hair with her fingers.

Lord Regent Tepper did not seem very shaken. Teec recalled how the man sometimes wore semi-military uniforms and had that military aura to him. Perhaps he had seen his share of battlefield chaos and noise, and the present situation was not that shocking to him.

‘If you know what is happening, tell me now,’ Regent said to them, noticing the attention from Teec. He spoke really loudly, apparently still affected by the deafening blast, and had his arms crossed on his chest. He did not look pleased at all. Moments before, he sent two of his Royal Guards to make a dash towards the Guardhouse with instructions to the Guard and the information on his current whereabouts.

Teec shook his head, but gestured to Tepper to keep the voice down. Seelastraxx turned her face to Senkar quizzingly.

‘Uh,’ began Senkar, reading the air. ‘The Waygate activation was me. But I did not know where it would take me. I just hoped it would be somewhere in the kingdom. Secondly… on my mission, I learned something about teleportation mechanics. Whatever thing stands in the spot where something exits from teleportation, the thing blows up to shreds by incredible force. It’s like telefragging in some games,’ he explained. ‘If the Waygate was blocked and covered with some kind of seal concrete, planks, it would all be blown out by powerful force.’

‘And the meteors?’ asked Teec. ‘That definitely started exactly when you triggered the Waygate.’

Senkar shrugged. ‘No idea. But the other city may be under attack now too. I hope they are alright.’

Nobody knew what “other city” meant, but they were not given a chance to ask. After catching his breath and shaking off the daze, Pontifex Vivaro strode over to them, and surprisingly, on his face was satisfaction rather than anger.

‘I’m glad people will now see the truth of you people.’

Teec opened his mouth to speak, but a raised hand of Seelastraxx stopped him.

‘Truth, Vivaro?’ she asked, lifting her bloodied face up and looking up into his eyes with steely resolve. ‘How ironic to hear this from a liar. A liar, who assured Lord Regent here that Waygates do not exist in this land, while he had one hidden in your chapel. A two-faced fool who wants us to leave, while making it more difficult for us to do exactly that. Tell us, your holiness, what did we ever say or do to deceive anyone?’

‘You strut around like demigods, bask in the glory of heroes, and wear masks of humans, but you are all monsters inside. You dabble in forbidden magics. You want proof? Just look outside. I saw your warlocks, your twisted so-called knights, and the power they call to. This had to happen. And you?’, he pointed a finger at sitting Seelastraxx. ‘You call yourself “priestess” but are as impious as a boot. You dress as a harlot, you speak like a dockworker, and act like a…’

‘That’s enough, your holiness,’ Lord Regent Tepper cut the conversation. He addressed the Players only. ‘Can you kill those things?’

‘Yeah,’ answered Seelastraxx matter-of-factly. ‘But we will need reinforcements from Rockbase. We don’t even have weapons with us here,’ she showed empty palms to illustrate her point.

‘You were wise to mistrust them, Lord Regent, to forbid their weapons, but ironic under the circumstances,’ Vivaro did not relent.

‘Oh, but he did not forbid that, you know? It is our own rule, for your safety.’ Seelastraxx could not help herself and smirked at Pontifex Vivaro, waving to him. ‘Or at least, the illusion of safety.’

‘Cut the bickering! People are dying there! Can you signal for help from your town?’ Tepper demanded.

‘I don’t have to, they’re already coming.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I have faith.’

—

Esther was realistic about her chances against that enemy. She understood her capabilities, the mana at her disposal, the build-up of mental fatigue, and how the lack of her staff handicapped her. She considered the possibility that this was a boss-level encounter rather than a common monster, or even an elite monster. If that was the case, then her chances to prevail alone were zero. She wagered on the side of caution, accepting the assumption that this was a boss, and from that point onward she acted accordingly and pragmatically.

She retreated.

She cast Frostbolts and Ice Spikes.

She retreated some more.

She cast Blizzard. And some more Frostbolts.

Against a target like that, frost spells should be the most effective. Water counters fire. They’re also best for kiting. And luckily, I prefer frost spells in most situations.

The molten golem followed at a slow pace, either because of the slowing effect of her magic or because of its nature. She was the only target near it, so she had all of its attention. A few players showed up ready to assist her, but at a glance she could tell they were not among the best raiders. Neither was she, but she was controlling the situation, so she waved them away for the time being. One of the Players, a Monk, seemed to want to intercept the enemy.

‘No!’ she shouted to them, her hearing still not fully recovered. ‘Don’t aggro it! I’m pulling it towards the base! Get civilians out of my way! Pick the widest roads!’

‘You got it!’ said the Monk and sprinted past her down the street to the next intersection - or at least that’s what Esther thought he said. A female Bard who had been with him urged people back inside their homes and told them to be ready to fight any fires. They sent their children away, and grabbed rugs and blankets.

The interruption to her spell rotation distracted her more than she expected. She had been “in the zone” but now found it difficult to get the incantations right, while also having to move. Koori would be disappointed with me.

Kiting it towards Rockbase was her best idea at the moment, given the circumstances. It’s not going to die before I’m spent, she knew. She hoped someone powerful enough would eventually cross her path. Until then, she had to make the best of her ability.

The Monk and the female Bard kept doing as they were told, perhaps recognizing either Esther’s plan as good or recognizing Esther as an Administration member and thankfully respecting her authority. Bossing people around was not her strong suit. That’s what Seela is for, she remarked but then shook her head and banished the distraction.

They were in a wide cobbled street leading directly from the plaza near the Temple Square. The heat of the monster blackened the wooden beams and decorative parts of the houses on each side, a tell-tale sign that would remain there for decades as proof that all of this happened. Random leaves and twigs scattered by the strong winds caught fire and turned to ash in the elemental’s presence. The monster and the Mage were approaching an intersection, and the Bard pointed the way. Left it is, then.

—

The thing was tough. It reminded Tycho of a very similar monster in NAVIS Online known as a Hellhulk, but that one was smaller and did not fall from the sky like a bomb. For the time being, he went to call it a Greater Hellhulk. It was taxing to even stay near that enemy, so intense was the heat. Its very presence set roof timberwork on fire. But Tycho’s gear held, the shield held, and his body held. After all, he was the tank. If he could not hold the ground, who else would?

That being said, he had to move. The Greater Hellhulk quite literally melted the ground underneath him, turning it to magma. His boots, enchanted with durability like every piece of equipment the Players wore, retained integrity but did not filter out the heat. The problem, however, was that the viscosity of the ground underneath him made it nearly impossible to work his legs. So, he had to move.

He compelled the monster to attack him, and observed its body for tell-tale signs of a punch incoming. That thing’s fists were the size of a car, it seemed to swing slowly but inevitably. Tycho raised his shield, absorbing most of the tremendous force of the impact, but it still rattled his bones and teeth, and cracked the stones under his feet.

‘Are you hurting it?’ he called out to the fighters near him who had been hammering and slashing at the golem’s legs from the sides and from behind it.

‘Hell if I know,’ answered Sinistic, aiming her dagger cuts into bits of discoloured minerals in the thing’s thigh, hoping those were weak spots. The blades clanged and clinked, but they should still work as they did in a game. ‘It doesn’t yelp or grunt, or bleed, or scream. I wish it would,’ she added.

‘Keep it up, you’re doing fine,’ Tycho spared a tiny moment of his attention to appreciate the Rogue’s participation. With Sinistic, it was never a given. Nevertheless, this was a new enemy, and they all learned to deal with it as they went, and there were no second or third takes. The town had to be protected. The roads and houses and stores can be rebuilt, the Players can be reborn immediately, but there were regular humans living there too. The enemy had to be beaten here and now, on the first try. He trusted the others to know their roles, and for the time being he focused on combat.

‘It’s doing something!’ called someone from the backlines. Tycho had no time to see who that was, but he took a step back, and raised his head to see what the magmatic enemy was doing above his own eye level. It stopped throwing punches and seemed as if it was drawing breath, but would a thing like that even have lungs? The heat radiating from it seemed dampened, but the cracks in its chest started to glow more and more.

‘Looks like a charged attack!’ shouted a Mage who sounded to Tycho like Eiri. ‘You should step back right now!’

Tycho agreed. ‘Everyone, spread out!’ he called out, and did the same. ‘More spread! More!’

‘It looks as if it is drawing powe-’

The pyroclastic shockwave swept a few of his hastily assembled raiders off their feet, but they rose again. Particles of restorative magic were already on them, courtesy of healers. One of the combat Monks was either arrogant or slow to dash away, and he was vaporized where he stood. Tycho was glad to not have been in melee range when that attack happened, unsure of whether his own vitality and wargear would save him from that damage. The fiery nova also collapsed a few of the nearest walls, but it was not Tycho’s concern at the moment - others were already working to control damage to the town. Tycho quietly blessed people’s readiness to invest themselves for the good of others.

It was an encouraging thought, and also the thought of having survived the special attack. There was also that for the first time ever, he had been fighting a boss on his own turf, with potentially infinite reinforcements and knowing the terrain. It felt like he was the boss that the elemental had to defeat before proceeding further.

Resolute, he slammed his mace against his shield to provoke the enemy, just in case it dropped aggro like some boss enemies tend to do after area attacks, bellowed a challenging yell, and charged back into the fray. Monks, Rogues, Warriors, and Death Knights followed. Arrows and bolts of wizardry continued to rain.

—

‘Don’t just hold that frakking shield up like that! You’ll drain all your stamina and then what?!’ said an annoyed voice to an intensely sweating Warrior, and it was not just because of the staggering floor-melting heat. ‘One more time: OB-SERVE. RE-ACT.’

The voice was of a rare healer Monk, aptly named SickPsycho, who found himself stuck with two dozen “incompetent morons”. That’s not an opinion, it’s a fact, he had said among other things, such as:

‘Why are you standing like a bruul, MOVE!’

‘If you have nothing to heal, attack!’

‘Watch your damn surroundings! You almost melted into the ground!’

‘Don’t frakking bump into each other!! Do you not have eyes?!’

‘What is that? It hurts? It hurts less than what I’m going to do to you if you let one NPC or whatever we call them now die. You will frakking regret your immortality, believe me.’

‘Oh you’re out of mana? By all means, have a sit, rest. Should I bring you some tea too? One sugars or two?’

Aside from the snide remarks, mana was a problem. Cuckoo at times could only watch her brother Arthroo sustain himself with Anima Drain or Dark Pact because SickPsycho forbid healing Dark Knights for the time being. Holding up the tank was the priority, the tank who was totally out of her debt, and stood on her legs only because of frenetic efforts of three healers. The hulking elemental’s attacks were merciless and deadly - as attested by the now-vanished corpses of the previous twelve Players who died when the monster “sucked in” air and expelled a devastating nova. I’m not sure who’s the real monster here, Cuckoo thought bitterly. And why is a person who goes by SickPsycho a healer?!

Arthroo seemed to be doing much better than usual, though. Perhaps it was because of the inhuman nature of the enemy, or the desperate situation and the need to put himself between the danger and the common people who were far weaker than he was, even when they woke up in the world of NAVIS Online. Cuckoo got more skilled herself as well, but still had much to learn.

Cuckoo’s and Arthroo, the current tank Mastrik, as well as two-dozen of other mid or low-range players, got tangled up in the fight by complete coincidence. They had been trying to contain the environmental damage left behind by one of the magmatic elementals when another dropped right at their location.

There was nobody else to take it on. It had to be them.

They were in an alley that ran in parallel with an inner city wall, near a bastion tower. The street was normally full of street vending stalls and pleasant shades cast by elm trees. The former were now haphazardly abandoned and scattered all over the place, and the latter were now just smoldering stubs extending from likewise scorched trunks. They did not sway in the wind anymore. The sky was choked with thick, heavy clouds with dark underbellies that hovered menacingly above the maelstrom below.

They fought it twenty at a time, and rotated in and out of combat. The others tried to put out the fires, or turned away civilians towards less dangerous places. A contingent of Royal Guards was there too, desperately trying to communicate with their counterparts on top of the wall, but staying clear of the monster in their midst. They shouted and pointed at the living meteor thrashing around, scorching everything around it with its fiery aura.

‘Can’t believe I got stuck with your lot. Living meteors be damned, this is the real tragedy!’ moaned SickPsycho while dashing from ally to ally with remarkable swiftness, undoing their wounds, giving them “tips”. ‘All of you, when this is done, you will move into the Guild house full-time and won’t leave until you can cast every ability in your sleep. That includes you too, Bard!’

With a yelp, Mastrik reeled hard with the latest blow. It sent her to the ground, her kite shield dropped, her lungs grasping for breath. The next swing was underway. This would be her death.

Arthroo prevented it. He compelled the magma golem to attack him. It briefly staggered the confused enemy, but then the attack repeated. He tried to swat away the massive punch with the flat of his runeblade, but the force was too great, and he was still too weak. It threw him to the ground like it did Matrik moments before, but he was in much better shape than she was, so he rose back up immediately. Meanwhile, someone dragged Mastrik away lest she be squashed underfoot by the golem. It was in the nick of time, because a really forceful stomp of the creature’s foot followed soon, sending tremors all around. They heard the piles of rubble near them shift, roof tiles get loose and drop from the roofs, chains that once held signboards rattle.

‘Good reaction,’ came the rare praise from SickPsycho, who now noticed nearby squad of the Royal Guards trying to get his attention. They pointed at something above them, on top of the bastion tower. His eyes followed the direction, and understood what they wanted. Something like that was never tried. Nobody knew if that would work, but he was very willing to try. They could not stall the enemy forever.

He was about to improvise a plan when he noticed their healing diminished. Looking for the cause, SickPsycho noticed a Naturalist with her back turned to him, running away.

‘Where the frakk are you going!?’ he yelled, but the Naturalist paid him no mind.

Cuckoo dashed to a partially collapsed warehouse, and despite her lithe build and her inner youth, the lifted beams and masonry and threw them away as if they were nothing, revealing a middle-aged woman. Her leg was hopelessly shattered, and when the final piece of junk was lifted from the limb, she yelped in pain. She was breathing through her teeth, and when she looked at what her limb had become, she nearly fainted. Cuckoo kneeled by the woman and laid her hands on the victim.

That was all SickPsycho had the time to see. He put the insubordination out of his mind, and instead focused on the situation at hand.

‘You, Dark Knight guy! Take twenty steps back in that direction, and keep taunting it. Don’t ask, do as I say!’ he called out to Arthroo. The young one set off in the wrong direction, but a swift but rich in expletive rebuke from SickPsycho corrected him. ‘Yeah, there! No, go back. Yeah, hold it there, even if you die!’ the Monk said, while looking up at the walls. He waited for a signal. He got it. ‘Now EVERYONE, get clear! Tank too! Stay away! Do as I say!’

A whip-cracking sound cut the air at the same time as a ten-foot bolt of steel tipped with an arrowhead the size of a pig came from above at an angle and buried itself into what could be the neck of the lava golem where its softer “flesh” was exposed. The bolt emerged on the enemy’s backside. The impact staggered the target harder than anything that Wyches, Hunters, Mages, and everyone else threw at it. Flows of red-hot lava leaked from the wound and dripped to the ground, where it began to cool and would later form strange pebbles never seen before by people living there. But if it bled, then it could die.

On the ground, cheers erupted like a volcano. Up on the tower, the Royal Guards spared only a moment to enjoy the payoff of the hastily constructed platform that elevated the back of the ballista so that it could point downwards. Hastily, they loaded another wall-breaking bolt into the mechanism.

—

Oneiron hoped he was going towards the place where the golden dome was briefly spotted. He led two hundred allies out of Rockbase, and more probably joined on the way - he could not tell, and he did not stop to count. Immediately beyond the Eastend bridge he first sent someone back to Rockbase to rouse more people to action - even if it was just firefighting - and then he started to split off the small army he had with him. He picked someone to take roughly a third of the force north, and then he found another to take a third part, the largest one, far west. He noticed, with amusement, that the west group’s leader was no other than everyone’s favourite tailor Simone. Good. Everyone loves her. They will do as she says. Oneiron himself led a few dozen to the south. He urged them all to hurry as much as they could. Since then he had split more smaller groups off his force, sending them towards places that looked like they needed help. Nobody argued, which was a fact that Oneiron had been very grateful for.

With him were seven Players, three of whom he recognized as members of the Theater of Pain raid, among them the first tank, Maladoro. Oneiron did not know them, but he knew Maladoro, and Maladoro knew the rest, and that was good enough. At least two of the remaining six were healers, a Naturalist and a Priest. Oneiron understood their superiority in combat, and would defer to them immediately when one of the lava-bleeding elementals crossed their road. This was also the reason why Oneiron had Maladoro stay with him. He did not know if he had enough people to take on a single of those enemies, but he assumed his group would be reinforced sooner or later. There were many Players patrolling Sorostade right now, fighting fires, evacuating, uncovering the buried, giving first aid.

The townsfolk were running from something, a good sign for Oneiron telling him they were going in the right direction. Sometimes he lifted his eyes to the sky and glimpsed smoke above the rooftops, and a few more living meteors coming down from the heavens towards the city and its outskirts. It seemed to be the last of them. They heard a thud of very heavy footsteps and the accompanying rumble underfoot. Oneiron tried to lock on it as much as possible, and within minutes he saw a blue glow of frost magic reflecting from glass windows in an alley in front of him. He knew he was going the right way, a fact confirmed by a Monk who was now also waving towards them and pointing into that road.

‘This way!’ he pointed with his sword to his followers. ‘Weapons at the ready, buffs up!’ They had been all jogging, but now they followed Oneiron in a sprint. He did not wait or check if they did as he said, but he heard their boots behind him.

They rounded the corner, even before they saw the same type of molten enemy that hit their home in Rockbase, the heat hit their faces and robbed some of their momentum. Clouds of steam billowed from the elemental as particles of frost magic were hurled at its bulk. There was a lone Mage kiting the enemy towards them, one with bound black hair and light-blue robes.

‘Esther!’ shouted Oneiron, but the Mage did not react to him, likely too focused on her abilities. ‘Maladoro, get it!’ he beckoned the tank forward, and saw that he needed not to say it twice. The Warrior bolted forth, and completely startled Esther when he passed her by like a cannonball, breaking her concentration. She turned around and noticed Oneiron and the others, relieved to see them. The Warrior immediately took control of the situation, and the others followed. It was at that moment she allowed herself to catch a breath, and stepped off the way to lean against a post.

‘You alright?’ Oneiron asked, briefly stopping by her. She looked him in the eye, nodded without a word, and waved him away.

‘Good. You rest now. Cobbalt will punch my head off if something happens to you.’ Oneiron went to join the fight.