Mask of Humanity

Later that day Nicolai returned to the safe-place, alone, a spring in his step and a weight of Oma crystals clutched in a bag. It was almost night, the torches he passed a dull orange.

He’d spent most of his time hunting for other groups to trade with (with mixed success), and at the end had gone to the tunnel into the prison where he’d found that the Oma-crystal delivery method was a rousing success. The small transport drone he’d left them had been waiting there, its storage compartment packed with crystals. He’d switched it for a fully charged replacement.

There was a message on the drone from Jo. ‘We’ve been busy. It wasn’t as easy as you suggested,’ came her voice. ‘The kids especially; they, uh, they aren’t really well suited to fighting undead, even together. I tried to attack a mining crew. It… didn’t work out.’ Nicolai detected a weight of unsaid words in the pause. ‘Maybe if we had guns, things would be different.’ Now he detected a whiff of accusation, irritation.

He hadn’t given them any guns, other than a singular silenced pistol, for a reason. He was pretty sure a bunch of shooting down there would draw the deads’ attention, and it was likely Perro and Azure, armed with guns, would start spraying rounds off the moment they got worried and then bring all the dead down on their heads.

That wouldn’t do. If the undead investigated, captured the group, and realised that the humans they were putting the bands on—who, according to their scans, were Cultivators—were in fact only sort-of Cultivators and thus the bands did not force them to obey… the whole scheme he’d set up would likely end there and then. The undead would likely start just killing anyone they captured.

He also felt it would be a waste of ammo, which was expensive. If he gave them all silenced pistols with subsonic ammunition with which to farm the undead then that’d be at least one bullet per undead miner—if not more. He’d have to bring constant replenishment to the drone, swapping Oma crystals for bullets. A huge waste.

He was certain they could work out a better, cheaper way. His decision to leave them with only one gun and limited ammo was his way of helping them work out that way. Being put in difficult situations made people stronger and smarter, this was well known. It forced them to think and adapt. Nicolai felt that Jo was relatively capable, but he ranked Perro and Azure significantly lower on the “able to fight without dying” scale. He thought it unlikely they would reach a stage where that would have changed while he was with them. Such growth took years, not months.

Regardless, he felt he could at least make them marginally more capable while he was directing them was a favour he didn’t mind giving. Some might have felt different, but to him sending them practically unarmed into a place packed with undead and bugs was a form of character building.

They’d thank him for it one day.

If they survive, his Mask reminded him. Threat Analysis then chimed into the inform the Mask it gave them odds of success above 70% percent, and the Mask subsided with a grumble.

The message continued, and he was pleased to be proven right.

‘No matter. We worked out a way,’ Jo’s message continued. ‘We think we can set traps for them. But, we need some stuff. We need…’

Her voice continued for a little while. She wanted a lot of rope, a few tools, and was requesting another Rejuvenating Orb. No biggie. He’d get what they needed and send it down with the drone.

‘Other than that, everything is fine down here. I’ll update you if things change. How are things going up there? How’s Beth? Let me know. Jo, signing out.’

Nicolai snorted at the last. Jo, signing out. It had the air of something she’d heard in a movie. As he walked up the stairs to the safe-place he composed a response, taking the time to give her an overview of what had happened and how Beth was doing, and embedded it into the drone. He worded the response vaguely enough that Jo would be able to understand what he was saying, but if someone were to happen upon the drone and hack into it nothing of importance would be revealed. His Mask made him finish his message with Nicolai, signing out, and he couldn’t help a tiny smile at doing so.

He arrived at the top and banged on the door, showing his face to the camera affixed above it whilst sending his Soul Sense through, making sure no surprises awaited him. The door opened.

The others were gathered within. It seemed like some of them had just returned from a trip. John was wearing a focused expression as he worked, gingerly but with a degree of enthusiasm, at butchering one of the deer from the garden above in a corner of the room. Beth was staring at the man with a disapproving frown. The rest of them were having a discussion.

The focus of that discussion was Maxine.

They'd mentioned previously that they wanted to go and rescue her, and Nicolai knew from the times listening to the radio himself that she wasn't doing well, stuck up on her tower, running out of food.

They all looked to him, and he knew this decision was his to make. But he also knew he'd be quite unpopular if he denied them in this. Fortunately for them, Nicolai also wanted to go and rescue Maxine, for reasons of his own. These days most channels on the radio were cluttered with morons spouting shit, and from what he'd gathered people were using them less and less as a result.

The exception to this was Channel Two, which Maxine held sole dominion over. No one had met her personally, but even so Maxine held a significant influence in this area of the castle, through the radio.

Nicolai had decided he wanted to bring that influence onto his side. He had a need for advertisement and propaganda, and Maxine seemed well suited for such a role, so long as he could frame things properly in order to convince her. It was a longer-term goal, however, a later stage of the vague plan that was floating around in his mind, which he was allowing to gradually come together.

Nicolai managed to put off the immediate rescue of Maxine, telling the others they had to prepare a little more first, but he promised it would happen soon. From her words on the radio they knew she had something like a week’s worth of food left.

He needed some more time because before engaging any significant new activities, Nicolai wanted to deal with Karl. The man was a knife aimed at his back, a threat he needed to remove.

###

After counting out his haul of crystals, which came to nearly seventy—enough to immediately solve his worries of running out before completing his lung Nodes—Nicolai asked Kleos about the library.

The head was pleased by these questions, as it had been urging him to go there for some time.

‘There are books there, books that will be very useful to you,’ Kleos said. ‘One might even say they are required, if you want to truly thrive once you leave this castle.’

‘How will they help me thrive?’ asked Nicolai.

‘They are Memory Tomes, very rare and precious. They can rapidly impart information to a user. I believe one of them is a basic Symbiote Pathways Memory Tome. With that, you could learn how to find, refine and improve a large number of basic Symbiotes common to the Nightmare. The value of such an item is very high.

‘The jungle around this castle should be teeming with what you need to do just that. With the book, you could turn the jungle into a Cultivator’s buffet. Without it, you’ll struggle to make any gains.’

‘I know there are a few such books in the library, at least there were the last time I was mobile. I’m not sure if they’re all still here, but if they are then you ought to get them—and quick before someone else does.’

‘I see,’ said Nicolai. ‘I’ll go there as soon as I can, but there’s some things I need to do first.’ Karl.

‘Don’t forget you need to write my name in the Book of the Raised,’ said Kleos.

‘I remember, don’t worry,’ Nicolai assured the head. ‘Is there anything dangerous, up there?’

‘There’ll be a library guardian, most likely, watching over the important stuff. It may well be a higher level of Cultivator than you’ve faced before,’ added Kleos, chewing irritably at its ragged lip. ‘Likely to be Tier 2.’

‘Do you think I could defeat it, as I am?’

Kleos made a face. ‘It wouldn’t be easy…’ It frowned, thoughtful. ‘But it’s possible. Yeah. You might be able. Still. Best not to risk it. Wait till you’ve gotten some more Symbiotes.’

‘You said I ought to get those books quick.’

Kleos made a face, which Nicolai ignored. The head was opposed to risk, and normally he might have agreed with that. But now he knew about these magical books and the uses they could provide him, he wanted them.

He had some matters to handle first, but determined it would be worth posting a sentry drone in the library area and checking on it daily. In the event others went there, he would like to know about it because he might have to act quick; though the difficulty of finding keys to get to the higher floors, alongside the assurance it would be protected by a powerful undead, meant he wasn’t overly concerned. He’d be there himself in a few days.

He was distracted by a pulse of deep satisfaction from somewhere inside of himself, and his Mark flared.

I found it! seethed a voice in his mind. Cyberwarfare. The way in!

Nicolai’s attention immediately focused on the Module, seeing it digging into some invisible presence in his mind like a dog squeezing itself into a hole, clawing and thrashing its way deeper in determined search of something small and fluffy. The Mark.

What do you see? he asked the Module.

Its movements were slowing. It is… vast. It is… beautiful. I don’t understand. I see… Cyberwarfare stopped entirely, half-way into the hole in his mind. Nicolai moved toward it, looking to join and see what it saw.

Before he could do so he felt the world thrum around him, Threat Analysis crying out in warning, and his eyes snapped open. Red light slipped over the stone, forming glassy walls of red all around.

Something began to press, the weight of an alien regard.

The chair broke beneath him and Nicolai grunted as he was slammed through its wreckage into the ground, his spine bearing the brunt as he landed then his body was plastered down and he found himself spread out on the floor like a frog on the dissection table, the red light crowding the walls.

Kleos’ eyes were rolling as the head stared around. ‘What? What is this?’ yelled the head.

Cyberwarfare screamed and thrashed, still half in the thing it had dug into, trying to extract itself but caught tight by something unkind on the other side.

The pressure grew, and Nicolai felt his bones grating, his flesh compressing, his eyes squeezed until it felt like they might burst. Am I going to die? His vision dimmed.

This is a warning.

The voice rolled through him, and there came one final push on his body, his head feeling like an anvil was on top of it, then the pressure vanished and Nicolai ripped a breath, his lungs re-inflating.

The red light faded away and everything was before, excepting the broken chair, the pain through his body, and Cyberwarfare which had dove back into its hardware where it trembled.

What is your status? Nicolai asked the Module, taking slow breaths and sitting carefully up, wincing at the pain all through his body. Ache in his back, in his eyes, in his throat, in his nose.

We need to leave the Mark alone!

I gathered. Clearly it was best not to mess around with any part of Heaven, even the Mark on his hand. He regained his feet and considered the mess of splintered wood.

‘What happened?’ asked Kleos, staring at him.

‘A warning. From Heaven. I tried to, uh, steal information from my Mark.’

Kleos’ eyes widened. ‘That is not wise.’

Nicolai nodded. It had been quite a warning, that was for sure—short and sharp. He needed a new chair.

‘Do you understand how far you are below Heaven?’ pressed Kleos. ‘You’re like an insect. You shouldn’t mess about with anything to do with it. Cross it, and it will crush you.’

Nicolai sighed. The head was right. For now. ‘Onwards and upwards,’ he murmured. One day, we will be stronger, and we will return to this, he assured Cyberwarfare. He was glad to see it was already perking back up, already moving past what had happened. Already thinking of how it could do better next time, while Threat Analysis clonked it on the head with the club of don’t be silly, now

I did get one thing, said Cyberwarfare, shaking off Threat Analysis. I found something.

What is it?

Cyberwarfare opened his Mark, and there was something new in his UI, under his other details.

Renown: 23

A hidden stat. Nicolai’s eyes narrowed. What did it mean?

‘You ever heard of Renown, in terms of something Heaven pays attention to?’ he asked Kleos, who blinked at him.

‘Uh, renown as in… how known someone is? How… important they are? Isn’t that something everyone pays attention to, without thinking on it?’

‘There is a Renown stat in my UI.’

The head shrugged its eyebrows. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never had a Mark like that. No idea how it works. Never heard of this renown thing.’

Do you have any ideas of what it means? Did you feel anything from it? Nicolai asked Cyberwarfare next.

It has breakpoints. I can feel one at 100. If it gets to that, something will happen. But that’s all, and I don’t know what we did to gain 23 Renown. Did we always have that much? Have we gained it over time? I cannot tell.

Nicolai nodded. He would have to keep an eye on the stat. This also proved that more could be won from the Mark, though doing so was obviously a very risky business. But depending on what was possible, it might be worth it. However, he would have to learn significantly more about the Mark, Heaven, and whatever rules governed it, before allowing Cyberwarfare another attempt. After that warning he knew that a second try would see him dead. But perhaps there would be something he could do to hack into it without that happening; a way to be undetected, or a way to ensure he wasn’t punished.

Threat Analysis was spiralling in disgust at these thoughts, labelling them Extremely Bad Idea. Nicolai and Cyberwarfare assured it they wouldn’t be trying again for a long time, and not without knowing far, far more.

A check with his Soul Sense revealed the others were heading to bed. Beth was already asleep. After making the Trade earlier, he and Beth had then spent the majority of the day nearby the Trade Link, hiding most of the path Jo had made. She’d complained endlessly about the boring, sweaty task, but he had been firm. Ensuring it remained hidden was of utmost importance.

The others wore new equipment. He’d made more purchases, replenishing their stock of arms for selling, as well as purchasing a few more guns—a pair of rifles and a number of pistols—for the rest of the group, as well as bullet-proof vests and helmets to protect all who would come on trades. The vests were only grade 2, They wouldn’t do anything against rifle rounds or a shotgun at close range, but would protect against 9mm from SMG’s or pistols.

His eyes turned to what was spread around him. Naturally, he’d procured the best equipment he could for himself, too. It was spread out across the two tables he’d procured from unused bedrooms, joining his original. He needed room for storage and maintenance.

A new bolt-action rifle with a scope rested on one table, a Charge Baton and a Charge Glove beside it. A shiny new pump-action shotgun—a Mossberg500, the same as a Reward Shrine had once offered him—and his own bullet-proof vest rested on a second table he’d procured. Joining these were a few silencers; one each for shotgun, pistol, and SMG, and finally, a bandoleer of Link enabled grenades lay beside them. In a corner of the room was a neat stack of boxes containing ammunition.

Some might have called this an unnecessary number of weapons, but in Nicolai’s opinion there was no such thing. Plus, he could always sell them if he was in dire need of points. Seeing them spread out like that gave him a deep sense of comfort. With such tools he could accomplish much, and at last he felt that he was settling into a truly strong position within this place.

He felt they had all the weapons and armour they needed, at least that were available from his currently available Market. That in mind, his next primary focus was on getting the Market Permit Upgrade, after which he would visit the library.

With the weapons he’d given the others he’d satisfied their desire for a cut of all trades while also ensuring that and if fighting broke out they should be of at least some use. He suspected he would reach his goal of twenty thousand to purchase the upgrade within only one or two days.

Just that one trade with the Communists had brought in a great deal of points, over ten thousand. With the proceeds he hadn’t merely outfitted himself and the others.

He’d also bought plenty more weapons and other items to sell, enough that if he managed to get similar prices in two more trades of a similar size, he would have reached his goal.

Nicolai took the time to check on his finalising Nodes.

User Interface 376 | User #53,217

- Cultivation

Total Nodes: 1 Major, 2 Minor

Available unconstructed Nodes: 0 Major, 4 Minor

- Nodes in progress;

Right Lung (Finalising: 36%)

Left Lung (Finalising: 36%)

- Completed Nodes;

Heart (Flawless) (100/100)

About a third done. After a quick trip to procure a new chair from an unused room, he settled into it, pulling an Oma crystal from a bag.

Oma began to spill in thin strings from his hand, into the crystal. This would be his first attempt at forming an Infused crystal, and he ensured Kleos was well placed to watch and critique, asking it to re-explain the method as he performed the process.

The Oma strings slipped into the crystal, beginning to form shapes within. It was an odd experience, like drawing but in three dimensions, but with his Soul Sense pervading the crystal he didn’t struggle. This task didn’t need to be completed in one go, as with Nodes, and was as a result surprisingly relaxing. He settled into the process, going slow and working it out. The shapes he drew within the crystal settled and grew firm, forming a lattice.

###

Nicolai held a few Oma crystals against his bare chest, thoughtful. He’d done everything else necessary for the evening, the inscribed Oma crystal was finished. Now, there was one more thing he was interested in, something he’d been thinking on.

It had occurred to him that always having to use a hand to pull from an Oma crystal was not ideal. It would be good to have a quicker method which did require a hand free, for emergencies, and now that he had secured a continuous flow of Oma crystals from the mines he could afford to waste some crystals trying to find such a method.

He drew on the crystals on his chest, pulling. The Oma came slowly, feeling as though it were pushing against a barrier at his skin. Once it made it through, however, it moved at the normal speed to his heart’s Node.

This was something he’d observed here and there. It was why he always absorbed Oma through his hands. For whatever reason, the skin of his palms was much less resistant. Oma pressed easily, almost immediately through that skin and then moved through his body.

This process was overall much faster than the current speed of the Oma from the crystal on his chest, as through his palms he rapidly absorbed a large amount of Oma, perhaps ten percent of the crystals capacity, in a second. This would then go to his heart.

Even though the crystals placed on his chest were much closer to his heart, due to how little and how slowly they pushed through the skin of his chest, the rate of restore was significantly less. Based on his measurements he gained the Oma at about one fifth of the speed he would from his hands.

However, for that he had to hold the crystals in his hand, which took up the use of that hand. If he could stick some of these crystals to his chest, he would use them at a slower rate, but would have them available at all times. Effectively he would be able to greatly increase his rate of passive regeneration during a fight.

He took a piece of fabric and wrapped it around his chest, tying it tight and holding the crystals in place. He drew on one of them, and felt the Oma start to push through his skin. With an effort of will, he started drawing on a second, and then a third.

Ah-ha. With three of them pulling into him at once, the rate of regeneration was much improved. He grabbed more crystals and slipped them beneath the tight cloth. Drawing on five, his rate was identical as to when he pulled on a crystal in his hand.

However, it required significantly more focus and effort from his Soul. So much so that it made it a little difficult for him to do other things, like moving his body and especially using his Soul Sense, which became a little sluggish.

Something to practise.

The other issue was that he had five hard, spherical objects digging into his chest. If he were to take a heavy blow to his chest, these things would help concentrate the force of that blow to more efficiently break his ribs. Not ideal. He supposed he could place them elsewhere on his body, but around his chest seemed the best spot, as it brought them as close as possible to his heart’s Node.

He heard a little tch from the side, and glanced over to see Kleos peering at him.

‘An Oma vest?’ The head chuckled. ‘You’re getting serious. Back where I come from, Cultivators only wear those when they mean to see blood.’

‘Your people used this method?’

‘Everyone does. Well, not in polite company. But if you think you’ll be fighting for your life, then its time to get yourself a vest.’

Nicolai settled into the chair beside Kleos, smiling at the head. He was pleased to learn that he wasn’t the first to have this idea; it meant there was prior knowledge to draw upon. ‘So, how would you go about making a good vest?’

‘Chop the crystals up, for starters. Each one into three pieces, then you can put them flat against you. You can go further; good ones would be made of seamless pieces of Oma shaped to fit against you, but you’ve not got the tools for that. Anyway, once you’ve chopped them up, fashion something that’ll work well to hold them in place. My people used resins which would stick them in place to the underside of clothes. You don’t want to stick them to your skin because whatever you use to stick them will make it harder for you to absorb through them.’

Nicolai did as the head said. Cutting up the Oma crystals proved slightly complex, as a sharp edge didn’t have great effect. But one of his combat knives had a serrated portion on its back, which proved more suited to sawing through the crystal. Some small pieces of the crystal became dust and were lost; he sensed the Oma dissipating from this dust as it fell away from the crystal, seemingly unable to stay within something so small. It was a tiny loss, not a concern.

Once he’d cut one crystal into three flat lengths, he started adhering them to the inside of a shirt, using glue from the Trade Link.

Done, he stood wearing the shirt. A few little hard things were pressed into his upper chest, and he saw them standing out a little through the material. It was an odd look, but Nicolai was aware that this was often the case when prioritising functionality.

This was a design he’d work to perfect. The better he could get them to fit around his body, the better this would work. A shirt also wasn’t ideal; he felt sure he could find or fashion something smaller and tighter to wear under his clothes.

He turned to Kleos, resuming his questions, seeking to learn about the exact kind of designs. He’d like to have his first prototype ready for tomorrow, and he also wanted to see about rigging something up for easier use of Rejuvenating Orbs.

Tomorrow he’d be going into the jungle, a place of almost certain danger, and these emergency options may well come in useful out there.

After some thought he’d determined that the best, most surefire way to remove Karl without anyone suspecting he had done so, was to engineer a chaotic situation.

He felt sure the jungle would deliver.