It was mostly just my family that came to my mother's funeral, but a few of the city leaders came as well, giving me their condolences. Unfortunately, I didn't see Ayame anywhere.
"It's just like with your aunt," my father said, his eyes still red from crying earlier. "She also died from a heart attack when you resurrected."
"It's all your fault!" my little brother wailed. He ran up to my leg and smacked me, but my two sisters pulled him back.
"You said everything would be alright! Why did you have to die! Now, mom has to take your place!"
My father dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief. "Equivalent exchange. That's what the Primordial Goddess of Order called it. She couldn't grant you true immortality, so someone in our family must die once you resurrect."
I took it all in silence. Having played Serial Slain before, I remembered that this sort of thing happened, but I had forgotten all about it until now. It was a mechanic that forced you—as the player—to feel the ramifications of your failures.
"Why aren't you crying?!" my little brother screamed again.
"I...can't."
My father placed a hand on my shoulder. "It's alright to shed some tears."
None would come out. I didn't feel sad, and I didn't feel any remorse. When I played the main quest in the normal game, I ended up almost killing my entire family because of how often I messed up in boss battles. By the time I finished the final fight, the only one left was my father. He didn't hate me, but he didn't love me, either. He knew that killing the Demon King was difficult, so he accepted the cost of saving humanity.
Now, in Serial Slain 2.0, I would have to face the death of my family members all over again.
Was it strange that I didn't feel anything?
Of course, I was a little sad. It was natural to feel that way whenever a character died in a story, but in the end, they weren't real people. When I played NieR: Automata back in the day, I was on the verge of tears dozens of times, especially when I completed the multiple endings. Even still, everyone in the game was an NPC. In Serial Slain, my mother was also just an NPC. She had no soul.
On the contrary, if Grace died in real life, I would be crushed.
And yet, the more I thought about it, the more I felt this weird ache welling up in my gut. It was like a piece of ice was slowly melting, dripping its frigid fluid through my innards. The ice was freezing me from the inside out, but there was nothing I could do to take it out.
Despite the fact that my mother in this game wasn't real, the time we spent together was golden. In a few hours of gameplay, She gave me more love than my biological parents ever did throughout my entire lifetime. If I were given the choice, I'd say I loved my mother in this world more than the one in real life.
This begs the question: who was more human? My true mother, or my fake mother? Given a real thing and something fake, which one was more valuable?
Naturally, I would jump to the conclusion that the real thing was worth more, but they could also be of equal value since they were, in essence, the same thing.
Yet, there was a third option: the fake had far greater value. In its steadfast attempt to be real, it was more real than the real thing itself.
Now that my fake mother was gone, I've lost one of the only people who loved me unconditionally.
Isn't that funny? To love a digital character.
How amusing.
How heartbreaking.
Before I knew it, a sob overcame me. I covered my mouth, but the melancholy spewed forth like a shattered dam. All my pent-up tears rushed out in a single moment. As I fell to my knees, my fake father and fake siblings stood speechless.
No—they weren't fake.
This place—Serial Slain—was reality.
My previous life is no more.
Claudia is gone.
Right now, I am Ares.
These people weren't NPCs at all. They were such realistic human AIs that they could have fooled me without any effort. If an AI was indifferentiable to a human, then it might as well be a human.
While I cried, my remaining family embraced me. They were silent, but they let their actions speak for themselves. They were here for me. These people were my true family, and I had to make sure I protected them.
This means that I can't die anymore from this point onward. I must save everyone. Maybe it was naive and idealistic to say such a thing, but I finally found people that I truly loved.
I vow that I won't let anyone else die.
"I'm sorry," I muttered.
"Shh," my father softly said. "Let it all out. It's not your fault."
"It is. If it wasn't for me, then mother wouldn't have died."
My little brother shook his head. "I'm sorry for blaming you earlier. You're just doing the best you can do."
"I'm sorry," I said once more. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I won't let it happen again."
***
When I got back home, I changed out of my funeral clothes and prepared to set off for the second time.
As I left, my father said, "Be careful out there, son. You have our support."
With a nod, I exited through the front door. To my surprise, Ayame was standing in front of me, but a massive migraine struck my head before I could greet her.
"Ares!" she said, catching me. "Are you alright?"
"My bad. I guess I'm still feeling awful after waking up. On top of that, with my mother now dead..."
"I understand. If you want space, I can leave you be."
"No. It's fine. I was planning on heading out again, but I'll need to take a break, first."
I rubbed my temples and regained my composure.
"I see," Ayame replied.
"Anyway," I said. "What brings you here?"
"I was gonna apologize for not going to the funeral. My parents were scared to death when they found out your body suddenly reappeared here because it meant you had died. When I escaped from the goblins and made it back, they were so relieved, but they also didn't want me to go off with you anymore. It took a long time, but I finally managed to convince them that I'll be alright. I told them to trust in you, and that you're the best fighter I've ever seen."
"I see. But you didn't have to stick up for me. Why do you look up to me so much?"
"You're the Hierophant! You're the reincarnation of the Goddess of Order herself!"
"I'm just a failure."
"Everybody fails," Ayame said. "Even the gods fail. But you still picked yourself up. That's why I look up to you so much. You were nearly dead against the katana demon, but you still managed to beat it! You have so much courage! You're so kind! You're amazing, Ares! Why can't you see that?"
I sighed. "You sure have a way with words."
My face was heating up, and I was having trouble expressing myself. Ayame noticed me blushing, so she turned herself away, probably to hide her own embarrassment.
Ayame was right. Everybody was born amazing. In my old life, I squandered away my time, but here, I could become a hero. I've been given a second chance at life, so I'll have to make the most of it.
"You really helped me a lot, Ayame," I said. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."
I patted her head.
She flinched, but she didn't back away. Instead, she showed a brilliant grin that was brighter than the sun.
Holy shit. She was too cute. I've always wanted to give a cute girl a head pat.
"Let's go, now," I said.
"We're already going back to fight the demons?" Ayame asked.
"Not yet. We're gonna eat some ice cream."
"Huh??"
And so, we went to an ice cream parlor. With the money that my father gave me, I bought a cone for both of us. Ayame shared stories about her childhood, and I laughed along with her. In a sense, it was almost like a date.
I was grateful for the much-needed relaxation. It took my mind away from everything that had happened.
When we finished, I headed back home so that I could rest some more. I told Ayame that I would leave again tomorrow, and she waved goodbye.
By the time I got home, I could still hear my father's sobs from his closed office. My siblings were playing in the living room, but they weren't as lively as usual.
I went to bed without another word, and I stared upward.
The once-unfamiliar ceiling was growing more and more familiar.
This was my home.