[Nero] You cannot save them both, Pete. You must choose to protect one and hope that the other survives.
[Pete] Fuck that!
The spinning avatar showed a version of Tongsly Belch that was dressed like a Pharaoh, with a grand headdress that glimmered with gold and precious gems, each firing laser projectiles as it spun rapidly. The hail of bolts hit Pete like a bunch of throwing knives, cutting into his flesh as he attempted to deflect as many as he could with his machete.
He triggered his Pauper's Ward, and it immediately burst, but he was moving so fast that he managed to reach the diminutive construct within just a few moments.
[Nero] I must warn you, Pete, you cannot hope to survive this encounter.
Pete ignored the AI tutor. He wasn't exactly sure why he'd decided on this lunatic course of action—moving up closer to the construct to effectively block the projectiles and save both Sam and Coop from a hail of lethal strikes. He wasn't sure why he would sacrifice himself when it would likely mean his mother's death.
But it was too late to turn back, too late to do anything other than fight through the pain and strike out at the construct with everything he had. He triggered his berserker stance once more, increasing his strength, critical strike chance, and luck with every wound he took. Time slowed once more, and he hacked and slashed at the spinning avatar, gouging into the metal and cutting through as many gems as he could manage while blood poured from his wounds and lasers continued to cut him to pieces.
>> PAIN TOLERANCE PROFICIENCY +1
>> STAMINA PROFICIENCY +1
[Craig] PETE! You will not survive!
Pete continued his onslaught as the din of battle receded to the background and his vision began to blur. He was going to die here. He understood that now, and a strange kind of calm filled him as he hunched forward, his body peppered with lethal laser strikes, his lifeblood pouring onto the ground as he tried to keep the machete steady.
>> HEAVY BLADED WEAPONRY PROFICIENCY +1
He had regrets, of course. Chief among them was the fact that he wouldn't be able to guarantee his mother's safety. He hoped that if he could destroy the construct, or at least weaken it sufficiently so that Craig could finish the job, the surviving members of his party would still be granted a victory and Pete's mother would be saved from the vat.
At least if his mother and his friends survived, his sacrifice would have been worth it. Ollie would find them and help them carry on without Pete. They'd make it to the novice arena and...
Blood poured from his mouth, and Pete coughed and spluttered. He was still holding the machete, trying to raise it up to strike the largest blue gem that sat at the top of the headdress, but he suddenly lacked the strength to do so. The pain he experienced was so overwhelming that it no longer registered in his mind. Pete could no longer feel his body, but it wasn't a simple numbness he experienced; it was something else, something he remembered from a previous experience.
The makeshift arena, the construct, everything around him turned dark, as though day had suddenly become night. He could still make out the individual details of each aspect of the scene, but they were frozen in place and somehow less real than he felt in that moment.
He'd experienced something similar while preparing to set off on the race in the RV. That nonsense with the pushups had stressed his body and mind to the point of breaking free of reality or accessing some deeper level to the game, or life itself; he wasn't sure which.
Pete knew without having to check that Nero would not be able to reach him in this place, and neither would his companions. He half-suspected that even the System itself couldn't reach him here.
The dying flesh of his body slumped in front of him, raw meat being cut to ribbons by lasers while his other self stepped back, surveying the scene. He looked left and right, catching sight of his mother still dangling precariously but alive.
"Hello?" he asked, his voice sending strange ripples out ahead of his mouth. "Is anyone there?"
Pete wasn't exactly sure what he expected. Perhaps some mysterious alien creature would reveal themselves, advising Pete that he was the chosen one and that he had been picked by ancient deities for some grand purpose. Instead, there was nothing. No response, no mercurial god revealing themselves, and no answers.
He did, however, see something of interest frozen at the far side of the makeshift arena. It took him a few seconds to register what he was seeing, whohe was seeing. It seemed utterly absurd, but as Pete moved closer, he confirmed that it was Ollie charging toward him with what looked like a crowbar in one hand and shimmering golden light surrounding him.
Pete wondered how his friend had made it into the area and why the System hadn't announced his arrival. He then wondered whether Ollie's arrival would tip the balance of the battle enough to keep everyone alive, including Pete himself.
The tug of reality pulled at his mind, gently but insistently, as he considered his friend. Pete ignored that pull for a moment, focusing on the rangy Australian. He was dressed in simple clothes that were spattered with dried blood and another dark substance Pete couldn't place.
Ollie looked somehow a little taller and stronger than he had been before, but when Pete stared into his eyes, he saw the same wise-cracking friend he'd known all his life. If he was a Reaver, there was no outward sign of the fact, and seeing his friend face to face in that moment, Pete was sure that there would be an explanation for what they had seen on the mini map earlier. The important thing was Ollie had found them, and he was here to help.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Once more, the tug of reality pulled Pete back toward his physical body. He looked around the makeshift arena as he returned, taking in every detail he could and searching for some reason as to how he had slipped into this strange netherworld. Those were answers he'd have to look for at a later stage, provided he survived the next few minutes. Judging by the blood pooling at his feet and the way his body slumped over the spinning construct, surviving the next few seconds wasn't likely.
Through some ineffable maneuver he couldn't understand, Pete came back to himself and back to reality. Pain struck him, a crippling agony that stole his breath and sent him staggering to his knees, machete in hand. He turned his head, trying to shield himself from the worst of the laser fire as the last remaining gems continued to fire.
He turned and saw Craig lying in a heap on the floor, Grizzle's life meter almost completely gone, while Torgo's was only a little higher. Pete tried to look at Coop and Sam but couldn't twist his body around far enough to catch sight of the pair as he slumped to the ground.
A loud clank filled the air, followed by a second, heavier thud and the sound of an Australian accent roaring.
"Fuck off, you Deadshit!"
A glow of golden radiance hit Pete's body as the clanging continued. In an instant, the pain coursing through his ruined body was driven back as he felt the restorative power of healing. It didn't completely heal everything, but it was enough to get him back on his feet, enough to allow him to thrust his machete forward and shatter one of the last remaining gems on the side of the spinning construct.
He looked over and saw Ollie surrounded by a nimbus of golden light, smashing his crowbar into the side of the avatar and destroying what few gems remained as he hissed curse words. The construct shuddered; its top half once more splitting open as it ceased its spinning.
Pete braced himself for what would follow, but instead of a gust of air, the defeated machine let out a plaintive whine. Steam hissed, and the remaining components of the construct began to wither and disintegrate.
The Overseer's holographic head appeared in front of Pete, scowling and showing further bruising on his face. Augustus Greedwell's voice was laced with hatred as he glared down at Pete.
>> You are a thorn in my side, Vault Breaker. A twig in my soup, a nettle pressing against the bare skin of my neck. You are an annoyance and nothing more. Do not think that this petty victory makes the slightest difference in the overall trajectory of your life, short-lived as it will doubtless be. The history of the Dominion Ultrimax Contest is replete with examples of troublesome upstarts like you, Vault Breaker. The System shines upon you for the moment because you serve as a welcome distraction, a means of generating interest early on in the contest.
The figure moved forward, its enlarged eyes narrowing.
>> Enjoy your moment, Vault Breaker, and know that you have made a powerful enemy this day. You think yourself special, but—
Pete thrust a middle finger in the air and grinned up at the holographic form, smirking at the absurdity of the Overseers words.
"You might not understand this gesture," Pete said, "so I'll put it into words that you can understand. Fuck you! Fuck the Dominion Ultrimax Contest and the System and Tongsly Belch and all of it. If you wanna get all shitty because I refuse to die for your entertainment, then that's your business. Threaten me if you like, but I really don't give a shit. You fuckers have already taken over my world and turned it into a game for your own amusement, so your threats are about as useful as..."
He turned to Ollie.
"What's that one you always say?"
Ollie grinned. "Tits on a bull? Fly screen on a submarine? Handbrake on a boogie board? A one-legged man in an ass-kicking competition? Take your pick."
Pete turned back to the Overseer. "About as useful as a one-legged man in an ass-kicking competition."
For a moment, the Overseer looked as though he was about to spit back a retort. His eyes bulged and his lips quivered before the holographic head vanished, its sudden absence accompanied by a bark of laughter from Ollie.
>> BOSS DEFEATED: Belch's Honored Avatar
Congratulations! You just defeated the Overseer's recursive construct with all members of your party surviving the encounter. You also sustained more damage in one single combat than you have ever endured before.
>> BOSS LOOT BOX: Legendary Level
BOSS REWARD: 5 Attribute Points
Pete stood grinning over at Ollie as the tall man walked toward him, crowbar slung over his shoulder. They pulled each other into a hug, with Ollie patting Pete's back.
"Mate! I finally fucking found you!"
"Just in time too," Pete replied as they parted. "Looks like you've got a whole Gordon Freeman deal going on?"
Ollie hefted the crowbar. "Oh yeah, this old thing. Turns out it's a pretty damned useful weapon in the middle of an apocalyptic death game."
>> ACHIEVEMENT: Damage Cap Exceeded!
Congratulations! In a single fight, prior to receiving any healing, you took more damage than you can technically withstand, passing the threshold from life to death yet somehow surviving. By exceeding all approved damage intake thresholds, you have proven yourself one hard bastard! Profit projections for your continued survival have consequently been revised upward.
ACHIEVEMENT REWARD: +1 Credit Rating [Constitution], Pain Tolerance Proficiency +1, Stamina Proficiency +1, Leadership Proficiency +1
"Shit," Ollie said. "Sounds like you technically died in that fight."
Pete nodded, turning to face the others as Sam, Torgo, Coop, and Grizzle all emerged from their frozen state. Craig was standing, patting his body as though wondering how he had been healed.
"Yeah. I'd probably be dead if you hadn't shown up," Pete confirmed.
He turned back around to face Ollie. "Wait, how did you get in?"
Ollie pointed at the arena entrance behind him. "Through the racetrack. There's an opening over there." He tapped his head. "Nero suggested that it might be possible to help you guys out. He said there's technically no rule against it, as long as I don't directly try to help your mom."
The rangy Australian looked over at Pete's mother, who was no longer suspended over the vat of acid but had been lowered gently to the ground nearby, still bound to her chair, but no longer in immediate danger.
"That's a fucking dick move, dude. Using your mother as leverage like that."
Pete was already running. The green shields surrounding the makeshift arena had lifted, and a pair of small goblins dressed in plain gray robes were untying his mother's bonds. Tears fell from her eyes as Pete approached, and he found that he was crying as well.
The moment her bonds were released, she stood, and he pulled her into a tight embrace.
>> SPECIAL ENCOUNTER COMPLETED: THE PRINCESS IS SAVED!
Congratulations! You have triumphed through challenges, boss encounters, waves of enemies, and the incompetence of the Propaganda and Merchandising Department, progressing to the Novice Arena with eight minutes to spare! You have rescued your princess and earned the following rewards:
+| 20 Achievement Points
+| 8000 Belch Bucks
+| 60 Seconds of Personal Time with your Princess
>> ADDITIONAL REWARDS
+| Ring of Distributed Leverage: All party members within 30 feet gain +1% Critical Strike Chance, +1% Evasion, +1% Life Regen, +1% Haste.
+| Mobile Asset Reconditioning Voucher: A single-use voucher that entitles the bearer to a complete repair and overhaul of a vehicle of their choice. All vehicle repairs will receive a gold-standard warranty, guaranteeing the repairs for a period of no less than ten years (excluding any damage or wear and tear relating to games or contests of any sort, combat, racing, natural or unnatural weather events such as earthquakes, storms, high winds, etc.).
+| Prop and Merch BS T-Shirt: A stylish t-shirt that offers nothing by way of protection, but that proudly declares the ineptitude of the Propaganda and Merchandising Division with the words 'Prop and Merch: Making incompetence an art form.'
Pete pulled his mother in tight, tears still falling.
"I'm okay, Pete," she sobbed. "I'll be fine."