Leviathan

Chapter Two: The City

The first day Stark went into the game, Steve didn’t go with him. He could hear enough to guess exactly what kind of reception the man was getting, however. The voice modulator that came with the game was garbage, but Stark had one that sounded like an actual human being, and not just a recording pitched up until it sounded like a chipmunk. A lot of people used voice modulators in Leviathan, but most tended to pitch their voice deeper. In fact, Steve automatically assumed that any guy using a voice modulator was actually a woman trying to avoid harassment. Since Steve had given Stark the best of the female gear and maybe a few bits of armor that accentuated some body parts the man didn’t actually have, he was definitely getting a first hand experience in why.

When he finally logged out, his eyes were narrowed and he crossed his arms as he glared at Steve. “You made me a woman.”

“Yep,” Steve agreed easily.

“You made me a woman that I would absolutely bang if I were single, but I could barely even see myself in a spoon at the bar, it was dirty... I was supposed to be invisible!”

“Professor-”

“Oh my god, if you call me professor in my own lab again, you’re fired.”

“Mr. Stark-”

“Tony.”

“Look, I made you better than invisible. I made you underestimated. Female avatars are always considered to be weaker even though we all have the same stats. You want to poke around in the game code? You do it by being someone most people don’t associate with coding.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Yeah, but that’s how it is.”

Stark continued to stare at him with narrowed eyes. “Fine, but tomorrow you’re coming with me. Those rats are… eugh.” Stark shuddered as if he were talking about murderous ghosts covered in contagion and slime. Steve was impressed that anyone could be so afraid? Grossed out? By virtual rats. A lot of Leviathan was beautiful and realistic, but the rats hadn’t gotten too much attention. They definitely weren’t on the individual-hairs-in-their-fur level.

“You bet. Any luck figuring out how to reset my stats?”

“No. Also, I hate this game.”

Steve snorted a little. “Welcome to my life.”

~*~

Two months passed with Stark playing the avatar Steve had designed, and no one was the wiser. It was determined after the first time that Steve accompanied the man that it did more harm than good. There was an incident involving a guy at a bar trying to negotiate something with Steve regarding “his” woman, and Steve might have socked him in the face, and it might have drawn a lot more attention than they wanted. Definitely best to avoid a repeat of that situation.

In the meantime, Steve kept playing like he wasn’t considering cheating (but was it cheating to take back something that was stolen from you? It was really shitty that the rules were different in terms of XP loss when you hit level 30… it was like the game was designed for ruthless assholes and not people who worked hard and valued dedication) to get the three of them back to the Triskelion. He hadn’t mentioned Wingman or Falcon to Stark, but there was no way in hell Steve would let Stark reset his highest stats if it meant his teammates were left behind. He’d rather continue the long, slow fight to thirty.

Steve liked Wingman and Falcon. A lot. They were good guys who fought hard and always seemed to know when he needed to stop but was too proud to ask. They didn’t play ahead, even though they could apparently clear the Badlands almost three times as fast without him. Steve wasn’t sure when he’d decided two people whose names he didn’t really know were his best friends, but some time during that two months, it had definitely happened. He looked forward to logging in each day and stopped caring about their progress. They didn’t seem to mind that the Badlands were going to take longer the second time around, and it was clear that they enjoyed the social time more than anything. Steve was pretty sure the two of them being roommates meant Wingman had told Falcon about his health issues, but neither of them ever brought it up. Steve kind of loved them.

“Bet you I can one-hit that rabbit,” Wingman smirked.

“Yeah, yeah, you and your shiny new crossbow,” Falcon rolled his eyes. “Man, you wait ‘til I loot my goddamn broadsword. You’re going back to the beginning of the level.”

“Nah, brother, I think you got us mixed up,” Wingman insisted.

Steve leaned casually against a tree. “I think both of you are forgetting who has the revive.”

“Now I know you ain’t wasting a revive just to deny me my pettiness,” Falcon protested.

Steve only raised an eyebrow in response. Falcon deflated and Steve’s silent try me turned into a smirk of victory.

Suddenly a red blip floated up to Steve and flashed. “Uh. This is new. Does it… attack?”

Both of his friends burst into laughter and Wingman barely managed, “It’s an orb, Mur. Tap it.”

So Steve tapped it and suddenly Stark’s Avatar shimmered into a half-transparent existence. “Kid, I need you to meet me at- Who are these two?”

“That’s-” Steve started, but Wingman had already slung an arm around Steve.

“I’m Wingman,” he said, his voice smooth as butter. “But the wings are only my second best feature.” Butter that was about three years past its sell-by date.

“His best feature is his ability to shut up,” Steve agreed sagely. “What did you need St-ork?”

“She can bring me a baby any day,” Falcon chuckled to Wingman at a volume that Stark definitely heard.

“Hey,” Steve said sharply- because even if the joke was on them, he wasn’t going to hang out or fight alongside guys like that even if it meant being stuck in the Badlands forever. Falcon held up his hands in surrender and Steve glared until both of them walked away. He turned back to Stark. “What’s up?”

“Nice friends you’ve got there.”

“Yeah, I thought so until about up until a minute ago. I’ll talk to them.”

“Whatever,” the billionaire shrugged. “I need you to meet me at that tavern, the one with the arthritic dragon on the sign.”

“I think it’s supposed to be flexing its claws, but okay…”

“Okay. Good.” He blinked out of existence, and a moment later another orb floated up to him. He tapped it and Stark’s avatar returned to its half existence. “Are your friends decent fighters? Bring them.”

“I-”

“Okay, see you soon!”

Steve sighed as Stark vanished again. He turned toward his party who were standing by some trees, not bothering to hide their interest. Steve rolled his eyes as Wingman nodded upward as if to suggest Steve was in some kind of relationship.

The first thing Falcon said when he approached was, “Hey, man, I wasn’t trying to creep on your girl. Sometimes I make jokes without thinking.”

“Thanks,” Steve said. He contemplated correcting the guy, but decided it might be more entertaining not to. “We’re meeting at the Dragon Claw Pub, and apparently you’re invited. Sounds like fighting skills are encouraged.”

“The Dragon Claw?” Wingman echoed. “I know we blew through the Badlands pretty fast the first time, but I think we would’ve noticed a raid or something there.”

“Well, Stork’s kind of a genius.”

“Think it’ll level us up faster?” Falcon asked eagerly.

Steve nodded. “I can practically see the charisma park again.”

As if invoking the name gave some kind of bonus, a plus one appeared in front of him as they reached whatever conversational threshold earned a charisma point in the Badlands. Steve was getting tired by the time they reached the Pub, but he had a feeling something important was happening. Part of him still wasn’t convinced Stark just wanted to prank a friend, but he was getting too curious to refuse to help.

When they arrived, the pub was completely empty except for NPCs and Stark was carving up the door to the back room of the tavern. “You sure she’s a genius?” Falcon asked dubiously.

“Uh… Yes?” Steve replied, though he was just as confused.

With a glance over his shoulder, Stark finally noticed the trio. “Oh, good. Almost done, come on. We’re going on a field trip.”

He made a few more slices and twists that Steve realized were ones and zeroes. Then he turned and gestured for Steve to come closer. Steve did. Stark gestured again. Awkwardly, Steve stepped forward again. Again, Stark waved his hand for Steve to get closer. Finally, Steve was about a foot away and Stark reached out and tapped his nose with a self-satisfied, “Boop!”

“Stark, what the hell-” Steve started to protest until he saw his entire field of vision fill up with plus ones and realized his stats were going back up and were then eclipsed by the text proclaiming him level thirty. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. You’re welcome. Now, these two. Do they need a bippity boppity boop or are they just noobs?”

“Yeah, bippity boppity,” Steve said absently as he stepped aside to go through his inventory, which was showing new items. They weren’t new. All of his old gear was back. Steve wasted no time equipping his better weaponry and armor.

By the time Steve had resurfaced, the rest of his party had leveled back up and were enthusing about their inventories and stats, before Falcon finally rounded on Steve. “Who the hell is your girlfriend and why is she just joining us now?”

“Girlfriend?” Stark repeated as Steve chuckled to himself. “Okay, bird brains, let’s get one thing straight. I am no one’s girlfriend, maybe in your dreams, definitely in your dreams, I am one hot tamale. Never in your life. Now. To Narnia.”

“That door doesn’t open. It’s the back room of the bar,” Wingman said, clearly having not yet realized just what kind of rule-breaking genius Stark was.

“Do you like ruining people’s one-liners?” Stark asked, narrowing his eyes. “Okay, just back up a few sentences.” He took a breath and repeated, “To Narnia,” before dramatically pushing the door open.

On the other side lay stone cobbled paths and stone walls. Steve understood now why Stark had picked the most boring and typically empty Pub in the game. “Holy shit, did you just open up a door to the city in a fucking bar?” Wingman breathed.

Stark smiled smugly again. “No need to apologize. Time to go.”

Steve wasn’t sure how he felt about going into the city before he’d leveled up and earned it, but he supposed Falcon and Wingman could compensate for his lack of skills. “Okay, so what we want is up there,” Stark pointed to a stone palace at the top of the hill. “Don’t worry about the quest or whatever. You can come back later. Right now, you’re getting me up there.”

“Welcome, traveler,” greeted a woman in a white dress that reminded Steve of ancient Greece. “I am afraid you have come to Troy during a most troubled time. Our armies-”

“Piss off,” muttered Stark impatiently as he Booped her and she actually vanished. Steve wasn’t sure he wanted to know how Stark had figured out to break the game so thoroughly so quickly.

“So, uh, Stork,” Wingman began nervously. “Are you, like, one of the devs or what?”

“Or what,” Stark confirmed. He had his hand in front of him and Steve noticed he was wearing a strange bracelet with large, dark grey beads. It looked like he was reading something. He sounded almost bored when he suddenly said, “Greeks incoming, someone do something.”

Stark was clearly seeing something they weren’t. Steve wasted no time drawing his crossbow while Wingman and Falcon were still trying to understand what was happening. Ancient Greek soldiers rounded the corner and Steve fired. It took three of his arrows to take down the one. Incidentally, it also took three of his arrows for the rest of his party to figure out they needed to fight.

It was a squad of half a dozen soldiers, and the three of them managed to dispatch them fairly quickly. As they all caught their breath (except for Steve, who was perpetually out of breath when they played this game), Falcon gave Stark a sideways look. “Hold up. How come you didn’t just Boop these soldiers? And why didn’t you help fight?”

“Mm, yeah,” Stark replied as he moved his hand side to side, continuing to read (or whatever he was doing). “I can restore deleted files, but I haven’t been in game long enough to really get any gear.”

Falcon had pointed at Stark’s shoulder and was clearly looking through his stats while the billionaire explained. “You’re level one?!”

“What?” Wingman walked over to point at Stark’s shoulder himself..

“Yeah, I’m mostly here to figure out how the game works,” Stark shrugged. “And as for the soldiers… I haven’t hacked the combat mechanics yet, and do I look like I can get close enough to a hostile MOB to Boop it?”

“With these stats, you wouldn’t even see ‘em coming,” Wingman laughed. “So, wait. Are you some kinda super secret spy lady?”

“Nope,” Stark replied. He pointed his palm with the bracelet to the right. “No Greeks this way.”

“Corporate espionage?” suggested Falcon.

“Nope,” Stark sighed. “And I repeat, no Greeks this way. If you don’t want to help me get to the top, I’ll turn you back into a pumpkin and send you home.” He held up his Booping finger threateningly.

“You got it, Stork,” Falcon finally conceded. Wingman started laughing. “What?”

“Murmur and the birds,” Wingman shook his head.

Steve smirked and followed as they all headed down the side path, less worn than some of the others. That was another amazing thing about Leviathan’s programming: player travel actually wore paths into the ground. You could tell where the best quests were by how clear the path was. Of course, not every aspect of the game had been discovered, but the paths were generally reliable. This one probably didn’t lead to anything at all, which would explain the lack of enemies and also the lack of wear.

Once again, Stark pulled out his starter knife and began carving binary into an innocuous part of the landscape- this time the mouth of a cave. It was small, they’d have to crawl if they wanted to get through, and Steve was already dreading it. He reached out with his toe and confirmed his suspicion that it was just furniture. This wasn’t a cave actually meant for player exploration any more than the trees or flowers. Yet, once Stark finished his not-so-artistic carvings, it became one.

“Okay,” he announced and gestured at them.

“Ladies first?” Wingman said hesitantly. “Where exactly are we going?”

Stark rolled his eyes. “One, I have no stats so I will not be going first, and two, the palace. Duh.”

Falcon dramatically pushed Wingman aside and dropped to his knees before heading toward the cave. “You heard the lady,” he said before heading in.

Wingman followed and Steve looked nervously at Stark. “Crawling isn’t necessarily my forte…”

“It’s a short tunnel, promise,” Stark replied with an air of understanding, and Steve got the impression he’d done it that way intentionally.

True to his word, the tunnel wasn’t too bad, but Steve was still wearing down fast. They’d been in the Badlands for most of his daily hour already, and this was really pushing it. Once he was on his feet again, Wingman slung an arm around him and Steve tried to be less obvious about how tired he was. “You realize Falcon and I haven’t even gotten this far in the game? We got maybe halfway up the path, clearing bandits before we had to retreat and recoup at the Triskelion. Your friend is kind of amazing.”

“Aren’t I though?” Stark called over his shoulder and Steve chuckled to himself as Wingman blanched. “Okay, who’s lifting the big heavy lid?”

Steve glanced at the rest of his party and they all moved almost in unison to the giant, stone well in the middle of the room. All three of them moved around it and started to lift. Steve could feel his kit vibrating on his arms in reality, probably to indicate that he shouldn’t be able to lift the thing he was trying to lift, and it was locking in place so he couldn’t properly bend his arms. He could hear Falcon and Wingman straining as well but they managed to budge it up just long enough for Stark to drop what looked like a penny down it.

“Okay, good, let’s go before someone upstairs figures out we were here,” Stark said and they all dropped the stone at once. Steve felt, once again, like a limp noodle. He wanted to log out then and there, but Stark was right. They would get in serious trouble if anyone found them here.

Steve was lagging badly, and he almost didn’t make it out of the cave. Wingman slung an arm around him again and said quietly, “Just put on movement lock, I can push your avatar the rest of the way.”

Steve wanted to argue. He really did.

He did as Wingman suggested and collapsed on his bed. Maybe he should invest in one of those disability kits. Maybe now that they were all leveled back up, Wingman and Falcon wouldn’t want him in their party, but it felt like they were friends now. It sort of sucked to have to bail on them all the time, and now that they were back to being much higher level than him? They’d basically just be re-playing old quests to humor him. They probably wouldn’t see it that way, but Steve had spent too much time feeling like a charity case because people always held back for him. He’d really liked their time in the Badlands together, even if it had been due to less than stellar circumstances. For the first time in a while, he felt like he was on someone else’s level without them stooping down to his. Since Falcon was so busy with school, it didn’t even matter that Steve couldn’t play for very long because neither could he.

“So what do I need to level to beat the City with you guys?” he asked.

Wingman’s face split into a wide grin. “I mean, your charisma’s probably good. I’d definitely go for the strength and weapons stuff like the Greeter says. But maybe not when there’s PK-ers around.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Steve agreed. “Though I bet they’ll be surprised to see us.”

“Murmur, they won’t even remember us, bud. Those kinds of guys do this crap all the time. It’s not personal, they’re just trolls.”

“If you guys want to keep playing… I mean, I’m pretty far behind.”

“That’s okay. Falcon and I haven’t beat it yet and even a thirty would be a help,” he shrugged.

“I mean… I’m thinking about getting one of the disability kits? To catch up?”

Wingman was quiet for a moment. “Aren’t those things glitchy as hell?”

Steve half shrugged and let his eyes close. His avatar probably still looked wide awake even though it was motionless. “Yeah…”

“Murmur, if you want to do that, you can. But Falcon and I don’t mind you being lower level. It’s just a game, and we play more to hang out than win.”

Steve smiled. “You guys are pretty great.”

“I know,” Wingman replied as they finally reached the door back to the Badlands. Once they were through, everyone said their goodbyes and logged out.

Steve barely made it to classes the next day and was pissed as hell to find out their programming professor had called in sick. If Steve could make it in after yesterday, Stark sure as hell could. Steve was so tired he couldn’t even stalk angrily down the sidewalk like he wanted to. In fact, he couldn’t even make it all the way down the sidewalk before he had to sit down and use his inhaler.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

Steve looked up at the familiar voice. Falcon had that armor that was sort of a mask, but Steve could see a little resemblance in this guy. “Falcon?” he asked before he could think about how weird that sounded in response to the question.

The guy blinked at him and then squinted. “No fucking shit. Murmur?”

Steve actually laughed a little. “We’ve been playing that stupid game for months and all this time we go to the same damn school.”

“I walk this way three times a week and I’m only just now running into you. This is nuts.”

“Well, I normally have class now, but it was cancelled.”

Falcon was already sitting next to him. “Riley’s gonna flip when he finds out.”

“Who?”

“Oh shit. Yeah. Wingman. His real name’s Riley. I’m Sam,” Falcon said, extending his hand to shake.

Steve took the hand. “Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve. We live in the B dorms and we’re ordering pizza if you want to hang out and watch terrible movies.”

Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not only were Wingman and Falcon now real people, he was being invited to hang out with them. In person. At their dorm. On the campus where apparently all three of them went to the same school. “Yeah. Okay,” he agreed.

They looked up as someone approached with a harried, “Rogers.”

“Hey, Happy, what’s wrong?”

Happy glanced at Falcon- no, at Sam, Steve corrected himself- and then back at Steve. “Tony needs your help with the project.”

“Is that why he cancelled class?” Steve asked dubiously. He explained, “I’m working on an extra credit project with the professor. It’s a programming thing.”

“I was waiting by the road, but I guess you took a detour. He said you’d be out about now…”

Steve sighed. “I sort of have plans… Does he actually need me?”

“Hey, Steve, don’t worry about it,” Sam insisted easily. “We do this every week. Maybe even twice a week.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed, though he wasn’t happy about it. He really wanted to meet Wingman (Riley) and eat pizza and watch bad movies. He followed Happy to the car and did his best not to look like a kicked puppy. He really didn’t need Sam catching on that Steve literally had no friends.

Stark looked like he hadn’t slept, and he didn’t even say hello before he was putting one of those weird metal-bead-bracelets on Steve’s hand, giving him a helmet, and then saying, “Here. Go sit over there and put this on.”

Steve looked at the helmet dubiously. ”Why?”

“Because I need you and your friends to get stronger, and it’ll go faster if… you have that.”

It suddenly occurred to Steve what he was holding. He could also hear the unspoken comment about how easily he tired out in the pause. “This doesn’t look like any disability kit I’ve ever seen.”

“Of course not, those are crap. I spent all night on that, so it should actually work.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. Tony Stark had made him a custom kit? “Okay… how does it work?”

“Put the helmet on,” Stark rolled his eyes. “I’ve got a penny to find.”

Steve sighed, wishing he had any idea what was going on with Tony Stark and this game. He wasn’t sure he was going to find out ever, but his best chance of doing so was probably tolevel up. So he put the helmet on.

The user interface popped up immediately and dropped Steve somewhere random in the Badlands. Instructions weren’t written this time. A male voice he didn’t recognize was in his ear, instructing him to touch or roll a certain number of beads on the bracelet to move or attack. All Steve had to do was look and hold his finger to one bead and his avatar would walk in that direction. It felt weird to move while he was still sitting in a chair. It felt even weirder to roll two beads and swing his sword at whatever his eyes were focused on. He laid a finger on each of four beads to bring up the menu. Options would highlight if he was looking at them, and he was instructed to blink twice to select the option.

Steve travelled to the Triskelion without any trouble. Stark’s kit was intuitive and ridiculously easy to navigate with. Steve could play all day if he wanted to like this… but that wasn’t why he’d picked Leviathan. He’d wanted to move… Maybe he’d feel less guilty about it if he still did an hour in his regular kit. The guys who killed him and Wingman were in the strength room, so Steve kept moving until he found the shooting range and got used to rolling three beads for his ranged attack. The training room was actually great. Steve never got his skills to level this quickly in combat. Plus, since the movements were so much smaller, he could fire more rapidly, which meant that he’d level faster and could do more damage in combat.

After what felt like nothing, his ranged skill was maxed out for level thirty. Steve laughed a little in disbelief. At this rate, he might actually catch up to the rest of his party. The strength room was finally empty, so Steve went in and rolled his two beads for melee attacks to the extreme misfortune of one practice dummy. No matter how much he hit it, none of the damage showed, though he kept getting xp. Apparently these were the one thing in the game that didn’t show realistic wear.

He hit level thirty-one and logged out. His stomach was grumbling angrily and Steve realized it was late enough that he couldn’t catch a bus if he wanted to.

“Have fun?” Stark asked without looking up from the computer he was rapidly typing on.

“I gained an entire level in a day,” Steve informed him in disbelief.

“Oh, yeah. I gave you some experience modifiers to speed things up.”

Steve frowned. “That’s cheating.”

Stark stiffened and looked at the ceiling as if to ask God why he was being tested. He looked at Steve. “I can take it back if you want.”

Steve thought seriously about it, and Stark sensed his moment of weakness. “It’s a game, and you’ve put way more work into it than anyone else. Just take the bonus for now, I’ll take it back later… everything will balance out.”

“Yeah,” mumbled Steve, though he wasn’t so sure. “I guess.”

“Good, so take the stuff, go home, get some sleep, I’ll see you in class.”

~*~

Steve spent most of his spare time in Leviathan now. He still did an hour with his regular kit (and its lack of xp modifiers) but even with that hour, he only took about a week to hit level forty. Falcon and Wingman showed up a couple times and even kept him company while they all grinded their skills, but they didn’t have the promised pizza night until the day Falcon finally noticed Steve’s level.

“Holy shit, Murmur, have you slept?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, trying not to feel defensive.

“Dude, I’m glad you got one of those kits and all, but please log the hell out and spend some time outside.”

Steve laughed as he shot some more arrows. “Outside has a lot of allergies for me. That’s why I got Leviathan in the first place, Falcon. So I could do something fun and exercise-like inside.”

“Okay, well you don’t have to go literally outside. Just, like, leave your room. Look at something offline for a while.”

“Nervous I’m gonna pass you?” Steve teased.

“Man, I’m nervous you’re becoming a hermit. Come eat pizza. Bring your phone so I can put my number in it and text you to get the hell off this game once in a while.”

Steve laughed. “Okay, but I’m only coming for the pizza.”

“Well, it is damn good pizza. We’re in room fifty-eight.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed. “I’m off campus though, so it’s gonna be a while. Buses.”

“Well, we ain’t even ordered the pizza yet, so it might not be ice cold by the time you get here.”

Steve just laughed again as he logged out and found his shoes. He hadn’t done his hour yet, so maybe he could justify not doing it at all since he had to walk across campus again. He also wouldn’t mind hanging out with these guys all night. He glanced at the kit for a moment before shoving it in his bag and bringing it. Just in case.

No, Steve did not have a problem.

Steve hoisted the full bag onto his back.

Okay, he might have a problem. But these guys were understanding and played quite a bit themselves.

Sam still laughed at him when he realized he’d brought his kit. “Look, Forty, we get it. You’re blasting past us all.”

“No, I wasn’t… it was just…”

“I’m not playing that game anymore tonight. Now eat some pizza and help us pick something terrible to make fun of.”

Steve had never laughed so much in his life. His face hurt from smiling so much, and he almost needed his inhaler at one point. The movie ended and they all seemed to settle in a bit more. Steve looked at the clock and swore. “Last bus was twenty minutes ago…”

Sam shrugged. “You can crash here. It’s not a big deal.”

“Thanks… Sorry, I should have kept a better eye on the time.”

“Seriously, Steve,” Sam insisted as he got up. “What’s the point of having a couch if no one ever crashes on it?”

“Uh,” Steve frowned. “Sitting. The exact thing you were just doing?”

“Just let me get you a blanket,” Sam replied in playful annoyance. “Tryna be nice and this guy’s poking holes in my logic.”

“If that’s what you call logic,” Steve smirked.

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Sam asked as he dumped the blanket on Steve’s head.

“That’s how it is,” Steve agreed and Riley snorted next to him.

“Just stay out of the beers in the fridge. We don’t do underage drinking here.”

Steve frowned. “I mean, I don’t really drink, but I’m not underage.”

“I thought you said you were a sophomore?”

“Yeah, but I’m twenty-four”

Sam looked at Riley accusingly. “Man, we could have had a beer with that pizza.”

“Man, shut up,” RIley rolled his eyes as Sam collapsed back into the couch on Steve’s other side. “So, you take some time off or what?”

Steve gritted his teeth. It was an innocent enough question, but there was no way to answer it without making things awkward. Even brushing it off would make it obvious it wasn’t a nice answer. “Yeah… My mom was sick and I was taking care of her… And I’m part time, so the credits don’t stack as fast. Why I’m not allowed to live on campus.”

“She okay now?” Riley asked quietly. It seemed like he already knew the answer.

“She passed about three years ago,” Steve replied. “Not to, like, bring things down or anything.”

Riley squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “Friends are for bringing down. Me and Sam started late. Met in the Air Force. You know that program where you serve and then they pay for your college?”

Steve’s eyes were a little wide. “Wow, so you guys are, like, actual heroes.”

Sam snorted. “Tone it down, Forty,” he teased him. “We didn’t exactly see a lot of combat.”

“But you did see some?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded and grew serious. “My focus is psychology. I want to work with vets. Riley’s studying to be a real doctor. We were pararescue, thinking about teaming up. Opening our own practice. He keeps ‘em healthy on the outside, I take care of the inside.”

Steve grinned. “That sounds really great.”

“We think so too,” Riley agreed. “Did you want to get some sleep? We’re not keeping you up, right?”

“I don’t exactly have a bedtime,” Steve snickered.

“Dude, I don’t know your life. Maybe you got early class or you’re a freak who actually has a sleep schedule.”

Steve laughed again, but it wasn’t the loud, bellyaching laughter they’d all had during the movie. It was comfortable, relaxed. He really liked Riley and Sam. They were fun, and he felt close to them in this moment, even if they were still making fun of each other. “I’m alright, but I should probably sleep soon so I can get out of here and go home for some fresh clothes and stuff.”

“You got it, Forty,” Riley said and bumped their elbows before standing.

“You guys really don’t need to keep calling me that.”

Sam stood and saluted, earning an eye roll from Steve. “Good night, Forty,” he said and turned to go to his room.

Steve loved his friends.

~*~

“Thank you, traveler,” the city’s Greeter said as they turned in the quest. Now that they’d gone into the City through the front door (for lack of a better term), the game had outfitted them in period appropriate clothing so that they wouldn’t be detected by the villagers. It didn’t seem necessary, but it was a nice touch. Thankfully, it behaved more like a costume or a mirage than anything else. Steve liked his armor’s stats, and preferred to keep them. The Roman soldier outfit probably wasn’t too bad, but how good could it be with his limbs mostly bare?

They’d cleared what had to be every alley, cellar, basement, path, and field in Troy of soldiers and bandits at this point. What else could she possibly demand of them before they got to the main storyline? “Now that our people are safe, there is only one thing we need help with. Outside our gates, the Greeks have left a gift-”

“Oh, hell no,” Sam spoke over her, though she kept speaking as if he hadn’t.

“-of peace. Now that it is safe to open the gates, we can bring it inside. Please find their general and thank them for this truce.”

Sam was shaking his head as Riley doubled over laughing. “Hang on, I read about this. We’re about to get a mission update from the Triskelion- yep.”

All three of them received a message orb and hit them in unison. Three identical Triskelion Greeters began to tell them that their mission was to protect time at all costs, that the Greek general was an enemy agent trying to derail time and that they must recruit soldiers to help destroy the city. No survivors, was the final word of the missive, made even creepier by the fact that it was being spoken in triplicate. The Greeters all vanished and Steve looked at his party. Riley wasn’t laughing anymore. “What the actual fuck?” Steve demanded.

“Yeah, I definitely read some spoilers, but that was not in it,” Riley agreed. “We have to make sure everyone dies? I know they’re NPCs, but damn.”

“I don’t know if I like this game anymore,” Sam nodded.

Steve sighed. “I guess it makes sense?” he said. “If the Triskelion is about preserving time… Still. The NPCs we’re being told to kill are just people, not bandits or soldiers… There’s even some kid NPCs, this is fucked up.”

“Y’all wanna quit?” Riley asked seriously.

The three of them went quiet. “It’s not like they’re real people,” Sam admitted grudgingly. “It’s… just one quest, right? We know we’re not going to suddenly become serial killers after this.”

Steve nodded. “We’ve come too far to just bail. Let’s… get it over with. Where do we find the Greek general?”

“The last we heard, their camp was just over the hill,” the Greeter said, finally keying in to their conversation again. “Thank you so much, kind traveler.”

So they headed over the hill. Predictably the general knew who they were. “Agents!” he hissed and spat at their feet. “I will not allow you to hurt the people of Troy! This war is over. I have made peace!”

“And that’s real nice and all,” Sam nodded, “but if that city doesn’t die, it’s gonna break time or some shit, so this army has got to go and do its job.”

“The army is loyal to me,” the general insisted. “If you want them, you’ll have to kill me.”

Steve shot the general with his crossbow. He tried not to meet Sam or Riley’s gaze, but he knew they probably looked as shocked as he felt. He hadn’t meant for it to seem so easy, but he didn’t have to draw his weapons like they did. Stark’s kit meant he just had to move a finger. The general lunged for him and he shot again. It took half a dozen arrows before he went down and he marched forward, hoping his avatar wasn’t stepping on the corpse. “Army! Attack!” he yelled, and they all flooded the gates while the poor Trojans were bringing in the horse.

“Not exactly how it was supposed to go, but I guess results are what matter to this game,” Riley muttered. “They… sort of went in with the horse…”

“You think the army will take care of it?” Steve asked. “ I don’t particularly feel like slaughtering innocent NPCs.”

“Somehow I get the feeling we aren’t getting off that easy,” Sam replied.

The trio walked into the city. Most of it was on fire, there were piles of bodies, what the hell was this game rated? A little girl was screaming in the middle of the street, and Steve knew in his gut the army wasn’t going to kill her. They were supposed to.

“Man, this is so fucked up,” Sam repeated.

“Come on,” Riley said darkly, and Steve wondered if this was bringing back bad memories. Riley cut the girl down with one swing of his sword and kept walking. There were more civilians left behind by the army and Steve realized they all had a counter in the bottom of their screens that was going down every time they killed another Trojan.

Finally, they reached the middle of the city, the castle with the well. On top of the well was the Greeter. “Kind traveler, thank goodness you’re here. Have you come to save us yet again?”

Steve looked past her, not wanting to see who he was killing. That’s when he saw him. Dressed all in black, eyes just a little too alive for an NPC. Aside from the color, his gear was the exact same as the other Greek soldiers. And his mask covered his face. The only bit of color on him was the red star painted onto the left shoulder of his armor. The soldier nodded at Steve and he rolled two beads before he could change his mind. He winced and, when he opened his eyes again, the soldier was gone.

Light shone from behind them and the Triskelion Greeter stood in the doorway they’d come in through. “Well done, agents,” she congratulated them. “You have saved the City, and kept time intact. You now have additional privileges and access to private training resources. New skills are available to learn. Please return to headquarters.”

With that, she vanished and the path behind her led back to the Triskelion instead of the ruined city they’d just “saved.”

Steve wasn’t sure how he felt.