One, two, three, four. Four, three, two, one. One, three, and then suddenly a five. The keys of the piano sang their notes like worn out conflict. The exhausted indents in which they used to scrape and prod against each other were now treaded paths of placid accommodation. Setting a pattern, playing it backwards, then doing away with it completely. He did not understand it. Instructions given just to be rescinded in the next measure. Glimpses of another melody, a different song revealed for singular moments before the notes fell back in line like dispassionate soldiers.Questions were created and left behind with wanton abandon. But he did not need to worry about giving them answers. No, his job was simply to carry on pressing the keys in a hollow march towards end of the melody. Stopping the steady stream of questions in hopes of acquiring just a single answer made no sense. Even if he managed to acquire the answer to that single, insignificant question, would it end there? Would there be nothing left to say about it? Surely not. If anything, peeling back just one layer would only open the flood gates for the dozens of others held back by its presence. And that could not possibly be anything less than undoubtedly, excruciatingly, infuriatingly-"Annoying." He hissed as his fingers settled more slowly on the last few notes before slipping off the piano entirely."Wooaaah!" Accompanied by a violent applause, was the far too empowered voice of Caroline Aspern. Her curly black hair bobbed up and down almost mockingly as she continued to slap her hands together in a quite invasive show of what Cairo was sure was supposed to be support."That was great Cay! Keep going!" She exclaimed as he struggled with all his might to stop his face from contorting into something that showed even a fraction of the discomfort he felt inside. He'd initially tried to explain to her how she was a failure of an English teacher for shortening his name from a lofty two syllables down to one for convenience's sake, but it did not seem to have been enough to deter her."Thanks… but I think I got to practice it a little more." he said weakly, looking back at her with a stiff smile. He reached out to grab a pair of black headphones that hung on the corner of the piano beside him, beginning to wrap them around his head before turning back to Ms. Aspern.'Ah.' He realized his mistake as he prepared for the words that would come next.'Stop wearing those things all the time! You're unapproachable enough without them. Do you want to kill your already fleeting chances of finding a friend?' The words played out in his head as he waited to hear them realized from the woman in front of him. Instead, an awkward silence ensued.He stared back at her, slightly irritated as he saw the uncharacteristically hesitant look in her eyes. She seemed to be desperately holding back her words.'Tch' He quietly clicked his tongue.He hated being coddled like this.Still, he pulled his headphones down to rest around his neck to give her some respite from her internal struggle.Caroline flashed a soft smile before finally speaking. "Just… don't overthink it." She said cryptically as Cairo wondered if she was still referring to the song.Her eyes wandered from him up to the calendar pinned up on the wall just beside her desk. While the room was originally meant to be used for a music class, it essentially functioned as Ms. Aspern's personal office ever since the only music teacher in school quite literally disappeared around four years before Cairo had enrolled. Caroline loved to tell that story, and so he had ended up hearing it at least a couple dozen times. Apparently, it was quite hard to find another masochist who had gone through the same years of schooling needed to qualify for the job, who was also willing to work minimum wage."It's almost November again, huh?" Caroline wondered aloud as Cairo's eyes followed her gaze to the calendar."Cairo." Her voice softened as he turned back to face her. "It's already that time again… Are you…?" Her voice trailed off as her words seemed to, once again, catch in her throat. Cairo shifted uncomfortably, anticipating her next words. Yet the longer he was left waiting, the more his discomfort turned to irritation.It was almost more than he could take at this point, he needed to do something about it. "It's already that time, huh?" He remarked in an exaggeratedly thoughtful tone, looking back at the calendar. "You know, I barely survived last time. What with all the mood swings, and hysteria…" He started before turning back to Caroline and speaking gently. "Listen, I know I never talk about this, but I really need to tell you something." He confessed, and Caroline looked back at him with a mixture of surprise and concern."Y-yeah, of course! You know you can tell me anything Cay." She said with the utmost care she could muster in her voice. Somehow, she hadn't noticed his eyes twitching for a moment at her gesture."Last time… you were a bit too… sensitive for me to talk to you. But since it's already that time for you again… I know it's not exactly my place, but with the store prices and everything, I figured I'd let you know, if you need it… I know a guy who can get you tampons suuuper chea-" Before he could finish his sentence, a prominent flick to the head stopped his voice in its tracks."AGHH" Cairo yelled out in exaggerated agony as he held his forehead with both hands. "Ouch! Listen, Caroline, this is just your hormones acting up, you need to calm dow-" He was forced to jump to the side narrowly dodging a ruler mid-sentence as it flew through the air past him with incredible speed."Scram you brat! I thought you were being serious!" Caroline shouted back at him as he slowly backed away towards the exit."And there's the aggression." He added in a knowing tone as she glared back at him."Get the hell out of here!" Caroline shouted breathily, struggling to restrain the growing contortion of her face that made her retort sound like something between an angry yell and a confused laugh.Cairo escaped into the hallway with a chuckle as Caroline was left glaring back at the door as her lips helplessly curved upward."Idiot." Eyes always pointed down on your next step, hands buried in your pockets, and hoodie pulled down an efficient three inches above eye level. These were the optimal conditions Cairo had discovered for avoiding the maximum amount of human contact while traversing the lengthy hallways of his school. Coupled with his pitch-black "don't talk to me" headphones, his defenses were impenetrable—or at least, he hoped they were.As he moved towards the piano rooms, he stuck close to the walls, each turn executed at a perfect 90-degree angle. His movements were methodical, as though he had rehearsed this routine a hundred times. He thought that if there were a competition for who could take the most efficient path through these halls, he would definitely win. Every step reducing one more unnecessary second spent out in halls saturated with the incessant chatter of students who populated every bench, corner, and lounge along his path.He spotted his destination as he rounded the final corner, making a beeline for the first cubicle he could reach. Salvation was mere feet away when the invasive whisper of air snaked its way into his ear. He felt a pressure grow on the side of his face before giving away entirely. Cairo clicked his tongue in frustration.He unwrapped the headphones from his head, prepared to repair the damn thing for the umpteenth time. The entire left muff was detached, a single frayed wire tethering it to the rest of the device. Back up from where it had fallen, a hollow cylinder of masking tape was agape in the shape of the disconnected piece. He stared at it for a moment. It wasn't much—just a strip of worn adhesive—but it had held longer than it should have, stubbornly keeping things together. He'd meant to replace it ages ago, but something about peeling it off now made him pause.A fleeting thought surfaced, unbidden, as he looked down on it: she would've found this funny. The corners of his mouth twitched—half a smirk, half a wince—but he crushed the feeling just as quickly as it had come. Clicking his tongue in irritation, he unwound the tape with a sharp tug."Nothing lasts forever." He said aloud, almost to remind himself. With a resigned sigh, he tossed the stripped tape into a nearby trash can. He'd fix the headphones later; for now, he walked down the hall exposed, one ear open to the world.He should have known better."Hey, you~" Cairo shuddered as the overly 'cute' tone of the words hit him like nails on a chalkboard, falsely sweet and unnervingly familiar.He turned slowly to find Valerie standing there, her smile so bright it seemed almost malicious. Her green eyes were narrowed, hiding something behind their cheery exterior."Hey," Cairo replied curtly. He realized he'd been staring too long when her face shifted, a quiet chuckle slipping through her lips."You're so weird," she said, her laugh exaggerated and light.Cairo internally marveled at her ability to be so casually rude. He wasn't sure if he should be offended or impressed by it.Before he could respond to her sudden insult, Valerie shifted topics. "So, prom's next weekend," she began, the feigned brightness in her tone grating on his nerves. "Are you planning to go? I have a feeling it's going to be a lot more interesting this year-""No." His answer came quickly, cutting her sentence short before it could gain momentum.Valerie blinked, caught off guard by his abruptness. "Oh." She replied almost instinctively followed by a lengthy silence. A sudden clack began from the floor beneath her, as Cairo shifted his eyes to see her foot lightly tapping on the ground."I mean, I kind of have to go. Student council president and all. You can't really be missing the person who planned the whole thing. Her voice softened slightly. "I'm just not sure who I'm going with yet."Another silence ensued before Cairo decided he'd had enough of this pain. "I, uh, I was actually heading to practice just now, so…" he said, pointing over his shoulder to the piano rooms that loomed tantalizingly close. His awkward tone betrayed how much he wanted the conversation to end.As if echoing his sentiment Valerie nodded briskly. "Oh, sure. Yeah, see you around." She turned on her heel and walked away without giving him another moment. Her steady measured steps echoed faintly in the hall.As Cairo finally stepped into the piano room, he heard a deep breath being drawn out from the hallway behind him. But he only turned to close the door behind him, letting the sanctuary of the piano room consume him. Cairo drew a sharp breath as he allowed himself to topple over onto the chair beneath him. He gazed intently at his backpack that he had plopped beside him, then to the piano, then back to his bag. The debate didn't last long. After all, he'd already decided before coming in here. He tore open the zipper before fishing out his laptop and placing it firmly on his lap.Using the piano rooms to play the piano? Hah. That was almost as rare as finding someone using the school bathrooms to actually take a dump. Mostly, they were used by theatre kids to veg out during their lunch break or free time after school. Much like what Cairo was about to do just now. Of course, he did use it to practice. Sometimes."WELCOME LITTLE LAMBS, TO THE DEN OF WOLVES." Yamol's booming voice filled his ears, accompanied by the triumphant trumpets and pounding drums of the menu's music. For as long as the first few years of hearing his voice, he'd felt a strange sense of unease, like the six-eyed tentacle abomination had slithered his voice straight down his ear canal. Now, however, routine had numbed any real emotion he used to feel from it.Then came the music: an anthem fit for a war. Cairo leaned back in his chair as the game's logo materialized on screen, the golden letters glowing faintly:Caldria.He exhaled slowly. Six years. That's how long he'd been trying to beat this game. Or maybe it was five, if you didn't count the gap when he'd left it untouched. He hadn't planned to stop—just, drifted away for a while. The menu music swelled before slowly fading away.As the screen transitioned without so much as a tap from his fingers, Cairo let himself slip once more into the mystery that surrounded the game. It was too good to have been some forgotten indie project, yet he'd scoured every corner of the internet and found nothing about it. No forums, no walkthroughs, not even a hint of its existence. The only proof that it existed was right here on this laptop.It wasn't his originally. He'd stumbled upon it while sorting through the plethora of old junk that infested his attic. It wasn't what he was looking for, and he was in awe when the piece of crap had even hummed to life in the first place. As soon as it did, however, the laptop booted up the game as if it was only natural to do so.Despite everything he had tried, Cairo eventually had to concede to the fact that this laptop was only capable of three functions: booting up, shutting down, and running the complete enigma of the game known only as 'Caldria'. In addition, the laptop lacked ports of any kind other than a shamelessly large power jack that was positioned dead in the middle of its backside. Despite what that might suggest, the laptop hardly needed to charge for long before it could go for dozens of hours without so much as a stutter.The goal of the game was quite simple on paper: conquer the entirety of 'Caldria'. Yet it was nowhere near as simple in application.The world of Caldria was vast, sprawling across three massive continents on an incredibly detailed map. Each continent contained a myriad of countries, each boasting unique races. While the game tried to categorize these races into typical fantasy archetypes—Dwarves, Elves, Giants, Orcs, Humans—there were always subtle, inconsolable differences that made it impossible to feel as though the game wasn't just coddling you with its labels. There were also entirely non-traditional races like the 'Twinch': humanoid rats that used poison and steampunk-like technology for warfare, the Tomb Kings, the 'Asinai,' and another race known simply as 'The Reds,' whom Cairo refused to even think about, the bad memories threatening to undo him if he allowed them to.Every empire, country, and faction had its own intricate systems of governance, politics, economics, and religious ideologies. The game featured highly realistic systems of colonization, vassalage, knighthoods, churches, cults, mercantile guilds, and countless other organizations, making the task of conquering the entire world feel intentionally, impossibly difficult.Cairo adjusted his seat as the computer screen finally loaded up his character lying in bed, the soft glow of a single candle flickering beside the bedside."Time to get you out of bed, buddy," Cairo mumbled as he hit the command key to [Rise]. Despite the overwhelming complexity of the game, he felt like this might finally be the run where he could see it through to the end. Caldria ran like a never-ending simulation—the game persisted until you found a bed to rest, where attempting to quit the game at any other point often resulted in immediate death. Even once Cairo had reached a bed, his character would simply lie there, suspended in time, until his return. He'd lost count of how many times his past characters had died during this state of limbo. He would leave them safe in bed, only to be notified of their sudden death by the game, which immediately thrusting him into a fresh campaign without a moment to mourn. This current character, however, had managed to survive this long despite that fact. He'd began with it almost two years ago and had gotten farther with this one than ever before. Of course, that fact was attributed heavily to by the fact that he spent time on little else than the game.The moans of wooden floorboards creaked from below as his character stood. As if on cue, a prompt immediately appeared on screen: [(Ira) informs you of the advancing Ireban army.]Cairo's eyes lit up with amusement as he read the message, a grin slowly forming on his lips. "Oh? Those orcs are more clever than I gave them credit for." He leaned back, adjusting himself more comfortably in the chair. A tall and slender, brown-skinned woman stood at foot of his bed, her character model sporting short, black hair and adorned with an ivory scarf that wrapped loosely around her nape. Almost diametrically opposed to her delicate upper half, were the tiles of dull brown plated armor that stuck to her chest, back, and shoulders and continued down her legs, connected by almost equally thick, leathery material.Cairo coughed as he looked to Ira, his in-game spouse, clad in war-gear. Although the marriage was more so political, used as leverage towards his goal of beating the game, than anything else, he still felt a strange sense of guilt seeing her dressed like just another soldier in his army. Of course, it wasn't that she wasn't more than capable of fighting alongside him. She was, after all, an incredibly rare type of mage—a stone-weaver. In the world of Caldria, mages themselves were incredibly hard to come by in themselves. They were classified separately from magic casters, who were more akin to real-world scientists: harnessing magic through runes inscribed with complex equations and other 'practical 'means. Mages on the other hand, enviably, were born to wield their magic. Possessing innate, and what some called "unearned" talent and control over the world passed down through genetics and a bit of luck.But it wasn't all dandelions and roses for mages either. Being capable of great things didn't make you immune to them after all. There were countless instances of mages drowning themselves, pulling their own bodies apart, suffocating within prisons of their own making, and meeting their end to many other terrifying fates. Mages were often vilified as a result, treated as natural disasters by those around them since it wasn't only themselves, they ended up affecting during their 'accidents'. Mages were also unable to utilize the traditional methods of magic casters, with their bodies often rejecting any external forces of magic, forcing them to only use the magic they have an affinity for. Cast out at best and 'purged' at worst, there were only so many places they were able to exercise their power without fear of repercussion. As expected, power needed to be honed through practice regardless of its form. Cairo nodded internally as he pondered.Of those incredibly rare mages, stone-weavers like Ira were an exception among exceptions. Capable of manipulating the earth itself, summoning walls of sandstone, firing barrages of stone missiles and creating tremors in the ground itself. Also, all the other cool stuff you could imagine like riding manipulated waves of stone and throwing boulders the size of small houses. Ira herself would also often bring up 'hearing the earth' as she called it. Warning of advancing armies and pending disaster days or even weeks before the threat would arrive.Putting aside his thoughts, Cairo quickly navigated through the in-game interface to view his map, upon which he was able to see the incredibly close proximity of the Ireban Tribe's slowly advancing army. He pulled his focus back to them, furrowing his brows as he went over the situation. The castle his character was currently staying in was one he had only just acquired after a lengthy siege. The garrison was still populated only by the men and women of that battle, most of whom were still low on hp from the previous battle. The battalion of soldiers meant to take over the castle while Cairo and his army advanced their campaign would also take about two weeks before arriving at the castle.While it was certainly not an ideal situation... "Hah!" Cairo scoffed aloud as he reminded it was an army of Orcs he was dealing with. While he applauded their idea to attack at such an opportune time, they were stupid to think it would be that easy. To get here that quickly, their army must be extremely fatigued from the non-stop marching. There was no way that those clueless orcs had any solid battle plan either. If they had gotten there just a bit earlier, they might have caught him while he was still off the game, now though? They could only curse god for their bad luck. Cairo stared at his character with hesitant eyes. Adorned in performatively showy black and gold-plated armor, absurdly thick for a fantasy game, and riding a black-maned horse that was teeming with enough muscle it could have been mistaken for a tank, he was confused on how to feel. His character itself was no less 'dazzling'. Sporting long locks of white hair and inhuman, red-tinted eyes. A full beard adorned his face, as although not a spot of his hair was so much as stained in a color other than white, the character still gave off an air of strength and vitality. "Cool, but a bit cringe..." Cairo muttered to himself as he maneuvered his character towards the castle's walls. Although the armor and mount were something he had control over, the appearance of his character was never up to him, always seemingly generated by the game at the start of a new campaign.Finally reaching the gates, Cairo soaked in the view of his garrison. Archers lined up along the battlements on either side of freshly hung black-and-gold banners which flanked them on either side. Below, infantry stood ready at the foot of the castle gate itself, ready with spears, swords, and shields to meet their enemy in melee combat. Though of course, if all went well, they wouldn't have to lift a finger in this battle. Gunther, his garrison commander, met him at the front, launching into a variation of the same question Cairo had heard countless times before.["Your orders, my liege?"] the prompt appeared.Cairo rolled his eyes, knowing the dialogue too well. But even then, it was never quite the same words but always meaning exactly the same thing.Cairo looked out onto the swarming mass of orcs approaching from the desert beyond the castle. From where he stood atop the walls, they looked like a moving mass of skittles, their varied hues of skin blending together in a chaotic, colorful march under the orange glare of the sun. He shifted his gaze downward, focusing on his frontier squad of infantry positioned in front of their closed castle gate. They were the platoon that always bore the brunt of these sieges, their losses often extreme. Cairo sighed; it was unfortunate, but it was also the most effective strategy for dealing with a siege from a defensive standpoint."Prepare barrels of [Oil]" Cairo input his command, his eyes still focused on the mass of orcs as the garrison along the walls began to move. The orc army was nearing the castle's foot, their frontlines dotted with warriors carrying crude ladders. This was new—Cairo raised an eyebrow in surprise. The orcs had never tried to use ladders before. He pondered if thought was something they were even capable of as he recalled how they had only ever tried to break in through sheer force in previous sieges. Despite their stupidity, it wasn't even too rare that they succeeded regardless, due purely to their overwhelming physical power.Still, it was common knowledge that those defending a siege were in a spot a thousand times more fortunate than their opposition. And while using ladders in a siege wasn't that uncommon of an idea, in a world where anything from boulders, to arrows, fire, and even magic could be rained down upon you from above, it was a stupid notion, even by orc standards.Suddenly, the orcs halted roughly a hundred feet from the castle—just barely within the range of the longest-range archers stationed along the battlements. Cairo narrowed his eyes, caution flaring. He signaled the archers to hold their fire. Something was happening. A commotion broke from within the ranks of the orc army; the sight of orcs being tossed aside like ragdolls made its way closer as a massive presence forced its way to the front of the crowd.Sunlight glinted off ebony skin as an enormous orc emerged from the throng. He raised a white, ghoulish gauntlet and pointed directly at Cairo, who stood watching with folded arms. Cairo recognized him before the game even prompted him— [Grolsch "The Berserk"]. The game provided his name and epithet unnecessarily. Anyone could tell from the stark contrast of the white gauntlet against his black skin who it was.Grolsch's mouth opened, revealing teeth stained brown and pink—Cairo gave his silent condolences as he thought of those who had died from the stench alone. Garbled speech poured out of Grolsch's mouth, incomprehensible as always, as Cairo waited for the game to translate.A prompt appeared on the screen: [Grolsch the Berserk is willing to retreat in exchange for the return of [Black Hill Castle] and a [300 million denar] tribute to his tribe.]"300 million!? What are you retar—" Cairo caught himself, cutting his words short. He immediately selected to deny the offer. Grolsch's response was swift; he bellowed in rage, commanding his troops forward. The orcs surged past him, their march quickening as they charged toward the castle gate.The orcs ran forward, clashing almost immediately with the frontier infantry squad. Wielding crude axes, jagged swords, and heavy clubs, the orcs were a race whose brute strength was only tempered by the complete absence of their dexterity in crafting weaponry. The archers poured scalding oil down from above, dousing the orcs the frontier squad bought time using hit-and-run tactics. They quickly struck the orcs, absorbing their blows with towering pulse shields before pulling back into a designated safe zone populated by healers. Some even managed to set the orcs alight, equipped with weapons etched with runes for [Flame] precisely for this reason. Other runes on their gear ensured oil would slip off of their equipment and armor to prevent them from falling prey to their own weaponry.The orcs panicked under the sudden flames, some flailing violently as the oil from above seeped into their eyes. Despite the chaos and confusion, the orcs still managed to prop several ladders against the wall, driven by determination—or more likely desperation.Cairo watched as the last of the barrels of oil were poured onto the swarm below. [Ready arrows] he commanded as his archers drew runed arrows, their tips glowing faintly as magic was poured into them. Cairo smirked. He had taken great care in crafting the custom command for this. He input the word: 'Ember.'The frontier squad immediately retreated, regrouping just beyond the castle gate as magical barriers activated, closing them off from the battlefield. Cairo gave the next command. "Loose!" The archers let their arrows fly, and Cairo braced himself for the explosion of messages from orc deaths.But nothing happened.Instead, each arrow seemed to disintegrate, falling prey to an invisible wall they could not pass. Cairo's face contorted before he squinted, spotting a faint brown glow where the arrows were stopped. Shaman magic. He looked up at Grolsch, who smirked up at him while several shamans at his side concentrated, casting the barrier.Cairo clicked his tongue. The orcs' morale appeared to surge again with the protection of the barrier, and Gunther's prompt popped up beside Cairo. ["What shall we do, my liege?"]Cairo clicked his tongue as Gunther's words once again flashed on his screen. If this was his general commander or even a vassal, he would no doubt be able to do more than just ask for his opinion over and over again. But alas, they were all off making sure the rest of his kingdom did not fall apart in his absence, and so he was left with this low-ranking commander meant only to head the garrison of this castle after Cairo's departure.The situation was bad, no doubt about it. The orcs outnumbered the garrison ten to one. They were fatigued from marching, but that hardly mattered—they were still better prepared for a prolonged fight than Cairo's forces, who had only just won their own siege a few days prior. Their only advantage was their defensive position, and now even that was being threatened.The archers' range advantage was rendered useless by the shamans' barrier. Of course, they would have to dispel it eventually for the orcs to be able to climb through without being turned to mush. But if the orcs made it even halfway up the walls in the meantime, that small window would hardly matter. The mostly archer-filled defense would be easily overrun. Cairo had stationed most of the infantry at the castle gate, leaving the archers to fend for themselves on the battlements. If the orcs got up the ladders and onto the walls, they would overwhelm the archers and surround the remaining infantry standing below. Cairo clicked his tongue as he realized how worthless their positioning had become after the orc's decision not to siege through their traditional means.Gunther's prompt flashed again. ["My liege!"]'But...' Cairo looked out at Grolsch, smirking confidently from below. He let out a laugh. "You think I'm as stupid as you are, Grolsch?"If they couldn't hit the orcs from above, then they would just have to hit them from below.Cairo input another custom command without a moment of hesitation: 'Blood Ritual.' On cue, Ira appeared from behind him, her hands wrapping around a tile of the castle wall before it began to depress in delicate strokes, forming a web of symbols within a large circle. Ira did not stop there however, her figure quivering in what appeared to be a display extreme concentration as the depression made its way down the exterior of the castle wall, snaking to the ground below the Orcs before splitting even more depressions that engraved the sandstone below the orcs itself. In a display of articulation Cairo could only gawk at, countless identical runic circles were shaped by cracks in the shifting stone beneath the orcs. The orcs were equally shocked, many losing their footing during the torrent of tremors from beneath them which offset their sense of balance.While it was him who had designed these runes and command after endless amounts of trial and error, it truly should have been called cheating to have a stone-weaver able to engrave them spontaneously. Following the command through to the end, his own character moved, cutting into his own hand in an animation Cairo had seen countless times before, blood dripping down onto first runic circle engraved into the castle wall. The circle glowed before channeling the same glow down the path made out by Ira below to the ground just outside the castle, threading through the soil below the orcs.Cairo smiled as the blood reached the end of the runic network. The ground rumbled, and a red, effervescent glow lit up beneath the orcs. Dozens of intricate magic circles sprang up, symbols and shapes lighting up in tandem."I hope you can dispel that barrier fast enough," Cairo muttered.The ground erupted. Flames spewed from the earth that seemed to have melted into lava, wild blazes ignited the oil-soaked orcs as the entire army was engulfed in a sea of red flames. The orcs scrambled in panic, trying to flee in every direction, only to be met by the cold, unforgiving barrier of the shamans, trapping them in their own fiery hell.Grolsch roared in anger, turning to the shamans who scrambled to dispel the barrier. Enraged, Grolsch, grabbed a few before crushing them to pulp."Well, I suppose that does speed things up," Cairo mused, watching the chaos unfold. He turned to Ira who's hp looked to have fallen a considerable amount. Strangely, her character model seemed to appear more... pale? He figured it must have been a trick of the light as the sun set above them. After all, the character models had never done something like spontaneously change before. Especially not in the middle of a battle.Eventually the brown glow of the barrier faltered, softening before dissipating entirely. The shamans beside Grolsch hurriedly began casting water over the crowd of orcs along with surges of cold steam in order to quell the flames. As soon as the majority of the orcs were cured of their fiery state, Cairo laughed. "Oh, are you done with your barrier? Our turn!" He said with a cheery smile. Cairo signaled to Ira with another custom command. The earth shook along with his screen as two massive stone walls erupted on either side of the orcs, as well as behind them, leaving only the side facing the castle walls open. With nowhere left to turn, the orcs looked up to the castle gates with laughably pitiable expressions as soot and ash covered their faces.[Loose] Cairo commanded again.The archer variants and mages let loose dozens of arrows and spells, all aimed at the trapped orcs. Explosions of fire, lightning, and dust filled the cauldron of trapped orcs.Amongst the fog of explosions, a burst of rocks flew into the air from behind the orcs, and Cairo immediately recognized what was causing it. "A little too late to save them now, Grolsch," he mused.Suddenly, the explosions stopped, leaving nothing but a cloud of smoke. As the smoke slowly cleared, Cairo noticed a glint of light reflecting off something deep within the lingering fog."Another barrier?" Cairo wondered, though he quickly dismissed the thought. Even orcs wouldn't be foolish enough to try the exact same tactic twice.As the smoke slowly cleared, the glare of the sun seemed to build upon the glint as it became almost blinding in its intensity, slowly marching towards them through the smog. Cairo squinted at the shape emerging from the haze before he was able to make out the material. 'That's... What the hell!' he thought, his mind racing. He quickly commanded his troops to stop firing, panic beginning to cloud his thoughts as he tried confirm what he really didn't want to believe.When the fog finally dispersed enough, Cairo saw it clearly—a massive, shining slab of a glowing silver metal, carried on the backs of dozens of orcs. It resembled a gate, with two imposing doors, and etched into its surface were thousands—no, tens of thousands—of tiny runes, much of them glowing faintly with iridescent light, as if charged with energy.Cairo's eyes widened, his heartbeat quickening. 'Where the hell did they manage to get their claws on that much iridescent silver!?' he shouted internally as the orcs slowly advanced toward the castle gate. The runes glowed, absorbing the magic power fired at them—each projectile disappearing into nothingness as it made contact with the slab.Iridescent silver was no ordinary metal. It was incredibly rare, a material that could hold magic power—but only if the correct runes were inscribed onto it. In Caldria, it was easy to find material that could interact with magic power, but absorbing it was a completely different deal. It was the difference between using a slab of metal to push around water in a pool and using a flask to actually bottle the water. Of course, it required a completely different type of skill than filling a water bottle. If someone decided to just throw an attack spell at a piece of iridescent silver, it would split into a thousand pieces and that person would be labeled an imbecile. But if you could find an inscriber of a high enough skill level to etch the inverse equations for a spell class, or 'cagra' as the game called it, into the material, then it would be able to absorb almost any spell of that class. Of course, if you hit it with too strong of a spell or the equation was written wrong it would still function essentially as a frag grenade, turning your corpse into a porcupine if the blast itself didn't evaporate you.Even if you had put in just enough mana so it didn't implode, if you accidentally dropped it more than two feet, it would implode just the same. So, it was insanely stupid to try to use for something like magic-resistant armor. If you were trying to do that, there were far more stable metals which were capable of dispelling magic rather than absorbing it. And so, the question therefore would be: "Why would they bother with something so volatile?" Cairo pondered, watching as the orcs carried the slab closer and closer to the castle walls. The answer became obvious in the pit of his stomach: it wasn't a shield, it was a weapon—a bomb, though in this case, an insanely large nuke.Cairo signaled for his men to retreat, immediately jumping backward off of the castle wall. It was obvious that staying put meant certain doom. He watched as Grolsch, his massive figure looming in front of the castle, smiled at his men beneath the slab. The orcs were pulling the iridescent silver gate back, and it was clear what they intended to do with it. Cairo's stomach dropped as he felt the effort of his last two years threatened. 'Those psychos!'He wasted no time. He commanded the [Hawa] in his ranks to activate [Fly] and [Spatial Distortion] spells, reducing air resistance around him, Ira, and the rest of their group, boosting their speed as they flew away from the castle as fast as possible.He looked over his shoulder just in time to see the slab fly through the air. It moved with surprising grace, almost serene in its lethality, as it crashed directly into the castle gate. Cairo's eyes widened as the gate splintered under the massive impact. His infantry—the bulk of his forces—were still on the ground within the gate's vicinity.A second passed in silence. The air seemed frozen in that breathless moment, Cairo's gaze locked onto the scene as it shrunk smaller and smaller as his group moved away from it. Then, all at once, the sky was filled with a blinding light, and everything went deathly silent. The brightness drowned out all details in a searing white that made it impossible to see.As the light began to dim, a massive cloud of smoke rose above the castle, billowing outwards, reaching hundreds of feet into the sky. The castle was gone—obliterated.Splinters of the castle flew through the air, the explosion's shockwave sending fragments even as far as Cairo and his men. He quickly commanded the magicians to dispel the [Spatial Distortion] and cast a protective barrier. The shimmering barrier formed just in time, the splinters and shards of rock bouncing harmlessly off its surface. Cairo exhaled, his hands trembling. The once imposing castle was now nothing but a smoking ruin.
Cairo silently observed the explosion, the sheer magnitude of it beyond anything he had ever seen in the game before. Even the hills on the far opposite side of the castle seemed to shake from the blast. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. How the hell was this shabby laptop computing something of this magnitude, he wondered. It didn't seem possible—this game, with its grainy, static-like graphics, was doing something that would push even the latest gaming rigs to their limits. But what it lacked in visuals, it more than made up for with the sheer scale of its content.
As if in response to his rumination the screen began to lower in its already meager resolution, with some parts of the screen turning to waves of static. Cairo looked on with only a light curiosity. It was not the first time the game had lagged like this, and it was often in this manner after a large event. But he wondered... –why did it always appear more akin to buffering from a video stream rather than lag from a live-rendered game?Cairo shook his head, dismissing the thought. He had more pressing matters at hand. He remembered the troops he'd left behind in the castle. He quickly commanded the magicians to bring him back, channeling his own mana pool to cast a wind affinity spell on his party, enhancing their speed as they flew back to the castle.As they approached the ruins, Cairo could hardly recognize what was left. The castle was a pile of rubble, and the charred, blackened remains of both orcs and his infantry were scattered across the site. He clenched his teeth in frustration, an involuntary click of the tongue escaping his lips. Troops he had spent an insane amount of time and money to train, and now it was all gone—wasted. He knew he'd have to return to his capital, delaying his campaign once again to rebuild his forces from scratch.Among the debris, something caught his eye—a body, half-burned still struggling to move. A flickering white gauntlet adorned its arm, and Cairo knew instantly who it was. 'So that's why it hasn't prompted me with a victory screen yet,' he thought. Grolsch was still alive, barely hanging on.Cairo approached the orc leader, his eyes narrowing. 'This suicidal bastard,' he thought. He'd seen the orcs do some crazy things, but this—this was new. As he unsheathed his jet-black sword, Cairo could feel the annoyance bubbling within him. He clicked to raise the blade, all that was left to let go and let the blade fall onto him.Suddenly, a sound made him pause—a chuckle, low and guttural. It was definitely a sound byte, but one Cairo had never heard before. Orcs chuckled, sure, but this one was different. It sounded almost too real, filled with a kind of mocking satisfaction. He hesitated, his grip on the sword tightening. Grolsch, on the edge of death, looked up at him, his face twisted in pain.'His expression is... changing?' Cairo noted in shock. The only times he had seen dynamic expressions on the faces of the characters in game were when he had ascribed it to them in his head. He had never seen them move as fluidly as he did right now.The orc's mouth moved, forming intense lines in his unusually detailed face and Cairo heard the faintest of snarls, words trying to form. "Q-Qahir...at-" Grolsch spat, his voice laced with venom and forced out through sheer rage before he finally fell limp.Cairo froze. "H-how did he..." His mind raced as he stood there, staring at the now deceased orc. It had to be a coincidence, or--he must have misheard. But two new sound-bytes in one day? The start of another unfamiliar female voice suddenly started from the game before the screen flashed intensely for just a moment, forcing Cairo to look away as the voice was suddenly cut off. Looking back at the screen, Cairo finally saw the victory screen overlay, seeing Grolsch's face behind it suddenly back to his static deceased expression of two cartoonish x's in place of his eyes."Qahirat." Cairo said aloud. That word... how could he have-"HEY, DID YOU HEAR ME IN THERE? YOU CAN'T BE HERE ANYMORE ITS PAST 7!" A voice boomed from just outside the door of the piano room, interrupting his thoughts as he shot up, haphazardly packing his laptop into his bag before opening the door."Y-yeah, sorry about that , I lost my sense of time." Cairo said, quickly slinking past the round-bellied security guard who's angry expression seemed to intensify upon catching a glimpse of him."Yeah, for the third time this week kid! Get the hell out of here." He bellowed as Cairo was already halfway towards the side exit of the school.Exiting the school, Cairo paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to ensure the security officer hadn't followed him. Seeing no one there, he turned to leave, his mind still spinning with thoughts of the strange events in the game.As he stepped out into the open air, a strange sight stopped him in his tracks. The night sky above looked almost eerily similar to the one in Caldria. For a moment, he was certain of it—a vast rift in a torrent of clouds that gave way to view a bright crescent moon on a purple and black canvas.But then, he blinked, and the illusion was gone. The familiar, dull night sky now taking its place. Instinctively, unusually, he frowned.'Why?' He wondered. There was nothing wrong with the sky, it was probably even more picturesque than usual. The brightness of the moon remained, even surrounded by a few dotted stars which, miraculously, had managed to pierce through the layer of pollution above him and fall into view.'So why did it still look so mundane?' Shifting his eyes back to the concrete below, he began his trek home.