Chapter 2: A Visit from the Past

Lucas set down a simple wooden stool in the center of the living room and motioned for Joten to sit before arranging a stool for himself. The young man was reluctant to enter the home, refusing the intrusion and hospitality a few times before finally relenting and coming inside. His mannerisms were uncannily natural, as if a player now sat across from Lucas, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs in a stranger's home while preparing for a difficult conversation. Outside of a few furtive glances at the barren walls, he kept his head down, giving Lucas a view of his short black hair. He had studied the boy's face earlier; his blue eyes shone with the eager innocence of youth, and his unwrinkled face had yet to bear the burdens of age. The AI generated every texture using a state-of-the-art GAN, and it was especially noticeable in the strikingly realistic faces of the NPCs.

Joten, for all his realism, still retained the demure nature of most NPCs when they interacted with players. "Saviors," they called them. The ones who would deliver their world from the Demon King's occupation. Fortunately, as far as Lucas knew, they had yet to realize that their saviors had failed.

Earlier, Joten had patiently allowed Lucas time to regain his composure after his breakdown outside. It had been years since he had allowed himself to cry like that. Feeling sorry for himself was a shame he rarely allowed. He was not one for emotional outbursts in general, but something he had suppressed long ago had let slip in that moment.

"I apologize for the lack of comfort. I don't usually get visitors out here," Lucas explained to the NPC while extending a cup of tea in his direction. The young man took it with both hands and nodded thankfully, carefully sipping the steaming beverage so as not to burn his tongue. Lucas studied the man's every movement, still marveling at the realistic facade. He almost chastised himself for staring so rudely before remembering that the man in front of him was no more than a complicated collection of data sprung forth from the ether of the system. The two met eyes and Joten finally responded meekly.

"You've been staring very intently. Is something the matter?" Joten asked. Lucas was taken aback by his insight. Since when could they read body language?

"Sorry, it's just - why did you seek me out after Ben's death? I've witnessed hundreds of player deaths these past 9 years and have never had the system reach out to me about it," Lucas replied inquisitively. Even after the calamity at the Demon King's Fortress when a hundred of his friends and allies fell, the most sympathy the NPCs extended was disappointment in his failing their quests.

"Ben spoke of you often. His travels with Cara and Lucas were the highlight of his life. I grew up hearing tales of dungeon crawls, demon duels, and the Reconquering every single day. Seeking you out was the least I could do to repay all Ben had done for me and my mother," Joten said. Lucas leaned forward on his stool and placed his chin in his hands. Ben had spoken about building a new life in the game, but this was the first news Lucas had heard of him since their split five years ago.

"So he really settled down?" Lucas asked.

"Around five years ago, Ben returned to our village at Hillsborough. Actually, two years before that your party had liberated our village from the Demon King's army during the Reconquering. That was when my father died," Joten said as he averted his eyes sadly, before quickly adding, "but Ben had remembered us all that time. He helped my mother around the inn for a few months before they married. Every morning he taught me Ranger skills before heading back to work at the inn. We lived a happy life."

Lucas closed his eyes and tried to imagine settling down. Taking an NPC wife, raising an NPC child, working every day in an NPC village. No matter how realistic they all seemed, he couldn't rid himself of the nagging feeling that everything around him was false. The real world, the one hidden behind this virtual facade, taunted him from just out of reach. This fleeting world lasted only until the final player died, at which point the servers would collapse, deleting all of their work and progress and history into oblivion. Now that the prospect of defeating the Demon King was gone, why did any of them continue on in this futile false reality? How could Ben wake up every day and train this child, knowing as well as he did that Joten's data would vanish along with the world after their deaths? They were pushing a boulder to the top of the hill knowing that it would only fall right back down.

"An honorable life," Lucas lied to the young man. He still held his face in his hands.

"He was the most honorable man I've ever known," Joten replied with conviction. Despite his naivete, the boy was strong-willed. If one could equate the raising of an NPC to the raising of a real child, then Ben seemed to have done an excellent job with Joten.

"If he lived such a peaceful life within the Reconquered Lands, how did he die? Nothing out here should have been strong enough to defeat him, save perhaps a roaming World Boss, though I doubt he was foolish enough to take one of those on alone," Lucas inquired.

"For the past few months, Ben had been acting strangely. He would often go out in the darkness of night and come back ragged, as if he had been battling something, before sleeping until noon. It was very unlike him, and when my mother asked, he said something about investigating 'systemic mutations'. We had assumed it was some player thing and left him to it, but the next night he went out and never returned. His body was found in the woods in the morning. Mangled. That was 3 days ago."

A pit hardened in Lucas's stomach, but not from the substance of Joten's words. He would think about the mutation mystery in a moment, but first, he had to address the way Joten spoke about "players." His direct reference to the people from Earth stuck in the game was unsettling, as if the system's creations were now aware of the "others" that walked among them. It was the first time Lucas had heard of an NPC making such a reference. In the past they had always referred to players as "Saviors" which was backed up by in-game lore and lacked the meta-knowledge of a second world outside this one. He had to know what prompted this shift.

"What do you mean by players?" Lucas asked innocently, masking his unease. Joten looked at him askance, as if he had just asked what color the sky was.

"People like you, from Earth. The ones trapped in Savior Online," he answered nonchalantly. "Ben told us all about Earth. He especially missed something called 'chocolate ice cream.'" Lucas was dumbfounded. Not about the chocolate ice cream - he knew Ben had a penchant for sweets - but at the ease with which Joten seemed to accept that his world was a game. Did Ben explain it in a way that kept them from truly understanding the ramifications of having "players" visit from Earth in order to protect their psyche? Or perhaps the system prevented them from comprehending the nihilistic implications of living in a fake world? Whatever the reason, Lucas decided against pushing the subject. He would lose the opportunity to investigate his friend's death if he sent his son into an existentialist spiral.

"Ah, right," was all he said about that. "Did you find any clues about his assailant? Was it an errant demon?" Lucas asked, quickly changing the subject to something more concrete.

"Nothing out of the ordinary was found. He was covered in cuts everywhere, mostly clean, as if they came from a weapon, but nobody had noticed any outsiders in the village at any point."

Lucas rubbed his chin. Ben was a fellow Vanguard member, and his stats had rivaled Lucas's own, which most likely ruled out a player attack or a common beast. Unless, of course, it was another surviving Vanguard member, but Lucas did not want to admit that betrayal among their ranks was a possibility. That meant the most likely culprit was an errant demon whose strength was on par with at least a demon lord. How had it stayed hidden so deep in Reconquered territory all this time? And what about these 'systemic mutations'? Could his investigations have something to do with the mutations he was observing here in the mountain's flora?

There were too many questions that could only be answered by a first-hand investigation. Excitement welled up again in his stomach before he strangled it with guilt. What kind of monster was excited to investigate his friend's death? Yet in that moment he could not help but remember a previous quest, even as he reprimanded himself.

"Yeugh," Cara exclaimed as she walked into the mayor's office. Ben and Lucas were already knelt behind the desk examining the body. Cara looked around the room before joining them. "Blood spray made it onto the ceiling? What the hell?"

"Yeah, this guy was pretty seriously brutalized," Ben explained beside the mayor's mutilated corpse. His face had been smashed beyond recognition. If it weren't for the unique rings he wore on his fingers, and the fact that he was alone in his office at the time, nobody could have known for sure it was him. His secretary found his body and ran into the town square screaming, which was a surefire way to attract adventurers hungry for a quest.

"Whoever did this had a serious grudge," Lucas offered. "Every bone in his face is completely smashed in. They didn't even stop after he died." He stood up from the body and felt the blood rush from his head as his stomach flip-flopped. It was probably all that damn cheap stew he had for lunch. That's what he got for trying to save money.

Lucas covered his bulging mouth with a hand and rushed over to the window, ejecting the stew from earlier over the edge of the sill and into the alley below.

"Who'd have thought it'd be a dead body that got to Tough Guy Lucas?" Cara joked from behind with a light laugh. Lucas glared at her over his shoulder, but it was superficial. The vomiting animation thankfully lacked the gruesome internal machinations of reality. Besides, he'd have gladly puked to hear her giggle again. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"Hang on," Ben said, concern filling his voice.

"I'm fine, it's just bad stew," Lucas replied reassuringly while wiping his mouth at the window.

"Not you, moron," Ben said with a smile. "Was that window open when you ran to it?" Lucas looked up at the large glass window he had just vomited from. He actually wasn't sure if he had opened it or not in his haste to rid his body of the stew, but after a quick inspection of the complicated locking mechanism, he had his answer.

"No way I could've opened this puzzle while hurling. It was definitely open already," Lucas answered. "You think someone came in from here?"

"I think so," Ben answered as he leapt up onto the window sill with a ranger's characteristic grace and dexterity. He looked out the window and traced a path into the distance with his eyes. "I'm going to follow the rooftops, see if I can't find any clues. The devs probably left something up there for us to find. You guys hang out here, I'll be fine alone," he said, winking in Lucas's direction. Lucas's cheeks flushed, but he nodded to Ben and wished him luck before he leapt from the window onto the first story roof below.

"What was that wink all about?" Cara asked carefully as soon as Ben was comfortably out of earshot. Lucas's palms began to sweat.

"Hell if I know. Maybe he's got a condition or something," Lucas answered grumpily. Cara put her hands on her hips and furrowed her brow. She somehow always knew when Lucas was lying. Lucas looked around at the blood-spattered room and sighed deeply.

"Ben is such a fucking idiot," he cursed under his breath before looking Cara in the eyes and continuing. "I've wanted to say this for a few months now, but never really had a chance to speak with you alone. I'm sorry if this is out of place, what with us being trapped in the game and all, and now we're on a quest, and this dead guy is just laying here with us and -"

"Hey, Lucas," Cara said, interrupting him. "It's okay. I feel the same way," she added before taking a step forward toward him. Lucas leaned in toward her face to kiss her, but he was met with her fingers instead. "Don't get me wrong - I would kiss you. But did you forget about puking not two minutes ago, idiot?" Lucas felt so embarrassed he could cry, but instead Cara flicked his forehead gently and hugged him. "Dinner tonight, just the two of us. While Ben is running around town playing detective, we can have some time alone," she said softly into his ear. Lucas had never smiled so wide before. Ben was right again; it didn't have to be the perfect time or place. If she was interested, she would let him know regardless of setting. Although, this setting was a little extreme, even for Ben.

Just then, the door to the mayor's office swung open and his previously inconsolable assistant entered, her eyes still red from crying.

"What the hell?" she shouted at the hugging couple.

Lucas had to cover his mouth with a hand to stifle his laugh. Joten still sat in front of him, and he didn't want to give the excessively intuitive NPC the wrong idea, especially when he was supposed to be the adult in the room at probably twice the kid's age.

"I presume a funeral will be held, yes?" Lucas finally asked Joten after he was positive no laughs would emerge.

"Right, it's 4 days from now. It took me 3 days to walk here from Hillsborough, so I'll need to leave soon if I'm to make it back in time," Joten answered.

A 3 day walk to the village of Hillsborough to honor another friend that was taken too soon. Lucas mulled over the idea in his head. Was five years enough repentance for having survived when so many better people had fallen? He felt as if he had barely changed during these years of solitude, and certainly not enough to do well enough by their memory. However, now that Ben was gone, he was the only one holding these memories of their travels. It would be a shame if they died a lonely, pitiful death up here in his mountain hermitage. The world deserved to hear the tales of Cara and Ben.

"I would like to join you, if it's not too much trouble," Lucas replied. Joten's eyes bulged at the offer. Lucas was taken aback by his reaction. Was it really so surprising that he was finally leaving this place?

"Is it truly okay for you to leave this place? Ben told me you had become the patron spirit of this mountain and your soul was chained to it."

Lucas rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell from his face. He could not escape Ben's poor attempts at humor even from beyond the grave.

"I think I've finally broken the spell that had chained me here so many years ago," Lucas replied, not wanting to tell the kid that his hero was a liar with a poor sense of humor. "If I am able to leave with you, we'll know if it's been dispelled."

"Great!" Joten exclaimed with a smile that warmed Lucas's heart. The kid must have heard so many stories from Ben that this was like meeting a fairy tale character. Ben never knew when to shut up and be serious, so he could only imagine the things Joten had heard. Lucas hoped he could live up to expectations. "How can I help?"

The two men rose from their stools in the center of the chatel and looked around. This room was barren aside from the stools and the two windows that gazed out into the thick coniferous forest. Its primary use was the calendar, after all. Lucas suddenly felt self-conscious about the massive wall of carved notches that looked as if a madman had holed himself up here for years. Though, perhaps that wasn't all that inaccurate considering his state when he first arrived.

Lucas placed a hand against the notches and ran his fingers lightly across the wall. Some days these notches were made in anger, their deep grooves scraping violently through the knotted wood. Those were bad days. The worst days, though, were the ones where the notch was barely visible. A single stroke of his belt knife against the wall, barely enough to carve out a small curl of wood. These were the days he spent in the dark, curled up in bed, unable to face the world. It was an achievement to merely document the day on the wall at those times.

"Thank you for your offer," Lucas said to Joten. "But there is nothing here I'd like to take with me." With a swipe he pulled up his inventory and mentally catalogued the food he already held with him. It was easily enough for a 3 day trip. "Do you need any provisions?"

Joten's hands moved quickly to his rucksack and removed it from his back. He fumbled for a few moments with the clips as he opened it, laughing awkwardly under his breath. His movements still seemed anxious - or perhaps excited? It was difficult to apply the same readings of emotions to the NPC, despite his uncanny verisimilitude to a real player.

After finally opening the latch to his rucksack and searching inside, he turned back to Lucas.

"I should have enough dried meat to last the trip. There are a few villages I passed on the way anyways. Although…" Joten trailed off as his eyes dropped. He clearly had more to say, but was embarrassed to ask.

"Yes? Is there an issue with the villages?" Lucas asked, suddenly concerned again about the 'systemic mutations'.

"I would just really like some fruit!" Joten blurted out suddenly. "I haven't had any in days because of Ben's death and my travels, and I saw your strawberries outside, and I'm sorry for being so greedy and making a request of you, but they seem so delicious and -"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, relax," Lucas said, holding his hands out in a "pump the brakes" gesture. "You can have all the strawberries you want. It's not like I can take them all with me."

Joten's eyes lit up. Lucas had a bad feeling about this.