Quest: Helpline

Primary Objective — Locate Sae.

Secondary Objective — ???

Personal Objective — Remain unidentified by other Users.

Threat Level: Low

EXP GAIN (S)

Time Limit: ???

Reward: ???

The quest objective was so vague it was almost nonexistent. To the point that I wondered if the nonspecific nature was some sort of mind game. The objective simply called for locating the target, alive or dead, and the rest of the text gave nothing away. Contrasting this quest with Jinny’s, there was no allusion to a positive outcome—implied or otherwise.

It could just be coincidence. But if the system was self-aware and malicious, keeping the description limited following the deceptive bundle of horseshit that was Light In the Darkness would be a decent method for catching my eye.

If anything, it felt like I’d made the right call, waiting until after the transposition to read it. I was in a better headspace now than I had been at the time, though I was still obsessing over every little detail in the text.

Even though it was cryptic, there were a few things that stood out. It explicitly stated the threat level was low. From my experience, if a quest was either complex or exceedingly difficult, the system would typically tag it with a “???” threat level. Granted, low didn’t always mean easy—my early quest in the hospital could have easily proved fatal if it went wrong. But it probably meant that this wouldn’t be a complex quest. The fact it wasn’t a chain supported that theory in tandem.

If I wasn’t wheelchair bound, I might feel better about the possibility of having to retake the trial.

On some level, I knew what I was really doing. I was distracting myself. From the very real possibility that Sae was gone.

Any doubt remaining in my mind had evaporated once the transposition started. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t about correcting or fixing us, as the Overseer implied. It was a meat-grinder, pushing us headfirst through motorized blades, intending to use whatever survived the process to some unknown purpose.

And I held little hope for a meat grinder’s mercy.

“Rice Cake?” Our driver shoved the open mouth of a cylindrical plastic bag towards me, and wiggled it, so the wrinkled plastic seemed to wave. I took the opportunity to study Kinsley’s henchman, Steinbeck. That was how he’d introduced himself, last name and nothing else. He was sporting a military crewcut, black cargo pants, and a gray t-shirt that seemed vastly uncomfortable with the bulging shoulder muscles that rippled as he moved, threatening to shred the shirt at any given moment.

“No.”

“Cap?” He twisted his arm to aim the bag at Kinsley, wiggling it again, all-the-while never looking away from the road.

“Later. Save me a few.” Kinsley shook her head. She looked similarly stressed, though likely for different reasons. Her eyes were glazed over, and she was navigating system screens furiously, probably messaging.

“Ten-four.” Steinbeck feigned a lazy, two-finger salute and returned his attention to the road. I didn’t like involving outsiders in something this personal. Not to mention, it was the one timeline discrepancy that could still trip me up. We’d fed him a line about my friends being overdue after telling me about the Trial, that they’d disappeared before the transposition started, and I wanted to check on them after. It still felt like an unnecessary risk, but Kinsley either trusted the man or had enough leverage on him to vouch for his short-term loyalty. Considering how she handled me, there was a good chance of a contract being involved.

“Problem?” I muttered under my breath to Kinsley.

“Negotiating with other merchants for market access.”

“I respect the hustle, but is that really what you need to focus on right now?” I asked. There were half a dozen things off the top of my head that seemed more important.

Kinsley’s expression soured. “Once the transposition ended, automatic restocking stopped completely.”

I took a drink of one of the tall glass potions and fought down a gag as the thick, acrid fluid worked its way down my throat and into my stomach, a process I could vividly feel all the way down. Something about what she’d said suddenly clicked. “They handed us the means of production, and now the training wheels are coming off.”

“Right,” Kinsley said, only half paying attention. “And I’m working on getting the vocations we need. Armorers, Smiths, Alchemists, and so on, but that’ll take time. Countless people are still hiding out due to how heavy-handed the guilds were early on. So, there’s a shortage. Anything I put up on the store is getting bought up immediately. A few extra merchants would go a long way to fill the stopgap. Enter the Merchants Coalition—a couple chucklefucks that figured out the position I’m in and have every intention of holding me over a barrel until I agree to their terms.”

“Their terms that bad?” I asked.

“Highway robbery.” Kinsley huffed back in her seat. “I offered 20%, prepared to negotiate down to 10. They countered with 2%, final offer.”

“When did that happen?”

“This morning.”

“So, you’ve been arguing with them since then?” I asked.

Kinsley nodded. “They won’t budge. And they keep talking down to me.”

“It’s a power play. They insulted you with their terms, and they know it. This is about testing how much shit you’ll put up with.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

I thought on that for a moment. “Cut all contact. Keep pursuing other merchants, regardless of how good their selection is and how useful of an add they would be. Don’t respond to anything the coalition sends you, don’t say anything to them for the rest of the day. You have to show you’re willing to walk away from the table.”

Kinsley sighed, visibly struggling to accept the idea. “I’ll think about it.

“We’re here.” Steinbeck called from the front.

/////

After some debate and argument, Kinsley had agreed to stay in the car, leaving Steinbeck to escort me. Reason being, he could easily throw me over his shoulder and escape if the monsters in the tunnel had repopulated. Factor protecting Kinsley into that equation and the odds became much more questionable.

Steinbeck had changed into his gear as we descended, a full-on suit of armor with two bronze colored, scythe-shaped swords criss-crossed on his back. He’d easily picked me up, wheel-chair and all, navigating the stairs, and dropped into the train tunnel as effortlessly as if he’d been carrying a box of clothes. He snacked on a bag of Goldfish as he wheeled me down the tunnel with one hand.

“Do you ever stop eating?” I asked. It was meant to be a joke, but came out more harshly than intended.

“Not when I can help it.” Steinbeck admitted. “Ain’t much in life that isn’t improved by a full stomach. Or sharing.” He held the bag out to me again. “Come on, that growling in your gut is gonna ring the dinner bell for any monster down here.”

I shook my head, appreciating on some level that the man was distracting me. “I’ll eat something after.”

“Had a few squad mates like you, once upon a time. Usually, the first ones to lose their lunch when we got into combat. Nauseous types, you understand. The thing we all sort of collectively figured out? If you’re gonna puke, you’re gonna puke. Full or empty, makes no difference. So, the question is, Matthew, do you want to taste bile and acid when you puke? Or that light snack you indulged a second time around?”

I bit back a smartass remark as we passed a section of wall that showed a small patch of red blood I was intimately familiar with. The place I’d sat for so long after regaining consciousness, the blood from bashing the back of my head against the wall over and over, trying to summon the strength to get up.

“Fine. Give them.”

“That’s the spirit.” Steinbeck grinned and dropped the bag in my lap. He spoke again, after I’d shoved two tasteless handfuls into my mouth. “Could be wrong, but if I were to make a door for a Trial, it’d look something like that.”

Up ahead was the ornate door. And twenty feet from it, was the slab of cement Jinny had died on. Just like before, there wasn’t a single trace of her. My jaw tightened. The suits were thorough. They’d erased any evidence. For all but a small handful of people, it would be as if she’d never existed in the first place.

“Gotta be,” I agreed, reaching down towards the wheels. “I’ll take it from here, Steinbeck.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Just going to open the door and call in after them. I won’t go in.”

Steinbeck studied the door, then looked back at me. “And if you open the door and some monster decides to give you a columbian necktie before I can cross the distance?”

“Then you can tell the Guild Leader I refused your help out of stubbornness.”

Unsurprisingly, Steinbeck wouldn’t to go back to the entrance of the tunnel. But he agreed to stand thirty yards back, and placed a pair of earbuds in his ears of his own volition. He must have raised the volume significantly because I could hear snippets of something orchestral and bombastic.

There was a hollow emptiness in my chest as I grabbed the handle of the door. Some part of me expected to find her there immediately, lying dead on the floor, worked over by monsters and whatever else the trial had repopulated with.

Bracing myself, I threw the door open, finding nothing. Unless the format had changed, I knew the initial room opened up after a length of hallway. The hallway was still gray and mottled with chitin material. Beyond the hallway, I could see just enough of the first room to pick out the reflection of green torches on dark water. Something scurried away just out of sight, leaving ripples in the dark water.

The trial hadn’t changed much. It was impossible to say if that was a good thing or a bad one for a person who’d retreated inside.

“Sae. It’s Matt. Came back for you, like I promised.” My voice echoed off the walls back towards me. I turned one ear toward the hallway, listening intently.

No answer. Just the smallest ripple in the water.

I kept talking. “You, uh, missed some things. Nick is still alive. The suits took him, left me in the tunnel. I regained consciousness just in time for the transposition. It was a hard day. Harder than any I can remember. We lost some people.”

What was I doing? It was painfully obvious that Sae wasn’t there. Either dead or just… gone. I grabbed the handrims and prepared to leave. Then, unbidden, the words began to flow again.

“You, uh, want to hear a joke?” I chuckled, putting a hand on my forehead. “This probably won’t surprise you, but I’m a loner. Always have been. It’s easiest for me to operate that way. So, going into the transposition solo should have been a return to form. Me, on my own, trying to contribute as much as I could.” I leaned my head back and looked at the ceiling. “Only this time, things got… really dark. And desperate. And painful. I had to make some decisions that are gonna stick with me for the rest of my life. And—here comes the joke—all I could think about, during the worst moments, was how much I missed having all of you at my side. People willing to share the burden. Friends I could rely on—maybe for the first time ever. I know it’s stupid. Outside of Nick, I didn’t know you or Jinny long enough to call you that. But the more I consider it, the more likely it seems that we were headed that way.” My voice cracked at the end, sounding pathetic as it echoed off the walls.

Before the suits ruined everything.

I crossed my arms over my aching gut and leaned forward in the chair. “I keep thinking about stupid shit. Like the four of us training. Running dungeons together and eating barbecue or pizza at Nick’s after. Trivia nights. Maybe that makes me an idiot, I don’t know.”

It’s hard to say how long I waited for an answer. Seconds, minutes, all blended as I accepted the reality.

Sae was never coming back.

“I’ll be out of commission for a few more days. But when I’m back on my feet, I’ll get a group together to run the trial for a more thorough search. I know that it’s pointless, that you’re probably gone. But that doesn’t matter. I have to know for sure.”

I wiped my face and spun the wheelchair around slowly, cursing myself for the weakness I’d shown, even if no one had been there to see it. The pain I was feeling was a result of my foolishness. My hubris in believing that things could be different. Ignoring my carefully curated rules and allowing my mental armor to soften.

Never again, Matt—

“I’m still here.”

The voice that emanated from the doorway and interrupted me mid-thought was faint, barely more than a whisper. Before I could turn back, Sae whispered again, more fervent than before.

“Don’t look.”

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