Tsaimath
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Chapter 324
🕑 Added 2020-08-17 16:01:04 +0000 UTC
Sitting on my newly established throne, I pulled up the interface connecting me to my computer. I still preferred to have a visual representation, even if I could theoretically work without one, so I created a keyboard and mouse from crystal clear ice with blood red letters, letting them float in front of me. They were quickly joined by a set of screens, the borders defined by dark, floating shadows with thin wisps floating off, creating the appearance of holes in reality through which I was looking.
The aesthetic was perfect, a wonderful mix of creepy and intimidating, while projecting a clear air of power, exactly what I had wanted to create. For a moment, I considered the best way to share my creation and decided on creating a virtual tour allowing people to see what I wanted to show them, without putting it all out there, for everyone to use. Sure, the tour might inspire copy-cats but that wasn’t something I could stop, not without completely keeping it to myself.
But before I created the tour, I sat back and opened up the forum, looking at what new things were going on in the wider world of Mundus. The first thing jumping out at me was that the discussion regarding the Grandmother was still going on, albeit with fewer people. However, those few had essentially dug trenches and settled in for a long flame war, happily shelling the opposing position with their respective opinions. The discussion had long since left behind any reason, making it obvious that I had made the right decision when I washed my hands off it all.
On the other hand, there was a thread that seemed interesting, apparently describing the abilities and skills of Tobinuo’s avatar. There was even a post by the man himself, supporting the idea but I was sceptical. Tobiuno was many things but stupid was not one of them. He had been a strategically savy and tactically brilliant foe in Craft of War, there was no way he was willing to just disclose his character’s secret. At least not without a good reason.
The reason put forward made some sense but I had a sneaking suspicion that there might be another, deeper, reason, hidden beneath the facade of goodwill. If he was as savy as I thought he was, he might have given away the superficial secrets, things every idiot could see when watching his stream, while keeping a few aces or jokers up his sleeve, ready to be used at a moment's notice.
The idea made me consider if I wanted to attempt something similar but the question was what to hide? I had managed to keep my Blood Magic quite well hidden, until I made the stupid mistake with that Traveller Centaur, using it to experiment on him, thinking that death would make sure that my secret was kept. Even worse, my Blood Magic had created an effect that had lasted through death, forcing developer-intervention, meaning that it had made a lasting impression and there were undoubtedly people who’d pay attention if I would explain what it was. That meant I’d either have to lie, hoping that the centaur hadn’t been told what exactly had happened to him, or I’d have to disclose my Blood Magic.
My Mind Magic on the other hand should be a complete secret, even if it wasn’t truly powerful yet. I had used it to stun one of the stooges but I somewhat doubted that they understood what had happened and what the implications were.
In addition, if I played it smart, I might be able to down-play my physical capabilities, especially when aided by Blood Magic. If my enemies saw me as a pure caster, their tactics would reflect that, giving me an opening. The exact nature of my connection with Lenore was similarly something I would prefer to hide. The easiest way to accomplish that would most likely be to show her as a normal bird whose form I could take. If I hadn’t shown off my ability to fly in front of Dargira, I’d have tried to hide it, but that idea had flown the nest.
Shaking my head, I pushed off the decision for another day, hoping that I’d see if there were actually people interested in collating the different videos made by people, trying to uncover their abilities.
I continued to browse the forums for a little longer, enjoying the sheer variety of content available. There were videos on almost every topic, from battling fantastic beasts to religious services, from climbing sheer cliff-sides to a video of a farm-wife making butter with a churn. Mundus was truly a different world and we players were allowed to engage with it on our own terms.
From the serious commitment that I felt towards that world and some of its inhabitants to the tourists who enjoyed the fact that death was merely a temporary inconvenience. The guy uploading rock-climbing footage was one of them, speaking of the moments of thrill when realising that he had done goofed, the free-fall and even the deadly impact, all experiences that he’d never survive in the real world.
If Pantheon was able to cater to both sets of people, Road to Purgatory would be more than a game, at least in my opinion. It made me wonder what more would be possible, which other worlds could be created with that technology. But it also made me worry about the repercussions and changes on Earth, the effects of giving people the ultimate escape from reality. My experiences on Mundus were far more interesting than those I had on Earth, especially for me, whose experience of emotions was so curiously different within the Capsule. I already spent most of the time within the capsule, would I ever want to leave it, if not forced? Would that be a bad thing?
Shaking off those thoughts, I stood up from my throne and I dismissed the interface I had set up earlier. Turning around and looking back at my throne, there was something missing. A coat of arms, some sort of symbol to identify just who people were dealing with. Not the rune symbolising Morgana on Mundus, that didn’t feel right. After a moment, I thought I had a good idea and set about engraving it into the back of my throne, so that it would hover above my head once I was seated.
The symbol was a simple one, a silver waning moon-sickle, with a black raven sitting atop the moon, holding it in its talons, all set on a bluish-white background. The contrast between the silver of the moon and the background was slightly enhanced with a thin, dark-red border, softly glowing and pulsing in tune with the rest of the room. It would do. Very much so. I might even adopt a simplified version as the logo for the brand I was building around Morgana.
For the next three hours I slowly made the tour-video, carefully adjusting camera-angles to create the images I wanted, while adding an impromptu commentary to make it more than just pretty, moving pictures. The tools Pantheon had implemented for the capsule-space were quite sophisticated, even allowing me to set up independant camera-movement, giving me interesting options to play with. And play with them I did. The final result was a video worthy to be uploaded and I had high hopes that people would enjoy it.
Once I was done with the filming, I logged out and took a moment to do something I hadn’t done in the past few years. The building I was living in was moderately high, high enough to have a descent view, and residents had easy roof-access. I wanted to take a moment and simply look up, into the night sky, watch as dawn was lighting up the sky and the sun slowly started to come over the horizon. It felt strange that I had consciously watched the sun rise and set on Mundus but hadn’t done the same on Earth, not in the last few years.
After climbing the stairway, I stepped out onto the roof, letting the pleasantly cool night-air flow around my body. But once I took a deep breath and fully took in my surroundings, I only felt a profound sense of loss. There was no night, there was no silence and there certainly was no clear air. Even at such an early morning time, when the world was supposed to be bathed in twilight, artificial light from hundreds of sources was brightening the day, erasing that magic moment I had come up to look for. At a time, when even the birds were still asleep, the city was filled with a cacophony of sounds.
Filled with disappointment, I could only turn around and walk back into the building, morose over the loss of something that had been gone, long before I had ever a chance to experience it.
