Oscar

“I’ll even take it a step further. All those people you killed? Laughing Coffin wannabes. See, I learned that if I pretended to be a contact for Laughing Coffin, I could get those idiots to go after whoever I wanted. So I figured, hey. Why not send them after people that could kill them? And if they managed to kill you in the process, that would just be an added bonus. What was it your adopted dad liked to say? Redeem the redeemable?” “And send the rest to Hell,” Oscar replied on reflex to finish the sentence. “Exactly. You were really quite useful in that regard. More useful than I

Everyone knew of Laughing Coffin, even in the passing sense. A boogeyman amongst the Players. A powerful, shadowy group that existed only to kill and terrorize honest players. They could be hired out, for a price. At least, that’s what the rumors said. But no one had seen Laughing Coffin active in quite some time. Everyone assumed that they’d killed themselves off. Oscar knew better. He had to expect that they would be in the shadows. Lurking. Plotting. Waiting for just the right time. But what if they weren’t. What if Tyson wasn’t lying. What if he was actively holding them back. It take

Tyson scoffed and shook his head. “Of course they would say that. All they’ve known is me gunning for you. The only orders they received revolved around you. They have no idea how deep my Guild goes.” “Oh? Enlighten me.” “Since you’re not making it off of this glacier, I might as well. We exist as a deterrent. There’s more than just me out there. Not quite so strong, but every bit as vicious. They march to the beat of my drum. They exist because I continue to allow them to. I built this Guild up as a dam holding back the river of death those PKers want to unleash. If you think my men

“That I wouldn’t end them the way I should have ended you back then. Your mistake was thinking that I’m not a scarier monster than you are. You confused my mistake for weakness and that’s why everything you built is crashing down around you.” “God, do you ever get tired of listening to yourself speak? You think I built this up just because I wanted to get back at you? You think I did any of this because of you? You’re a side project. A loose end. But you are smart. Too smart for me to believe for a second you couldn’t tell the difference between a death and a teleport. The lie’s too easy

If Tyson was going to make his final play, Oscar would have it be done on his terms. Hastily. Emotionally. With the window open for mistakes that Oscar could exploit. “You wanted this,” Oscar said, his tone accusatory. “You saw a chance to be free of the angel on your shoulder and just went with it. It was never about being abandoned. Admit it. You were just biding your time. Waiting for me to take my eyes off of you for a second so you can get back to old habits.” Oscar raised his sword, pointing it toward his protege. “How’d that work out for you? You got so many people killed for

Oscar had managed to render Tyson speechless. He could see the gears turning in the youth’s head. How many things he’d been wrong about. How many mistakes he made. And he had made some really fucking massive ones. Literally life or death decisions with an emphasis on the latter. Oscar knew where this was going. When things got this far, rarely did they end amicably. If Tyson had one final card to play, he would play it now. Why wouldn’t he, with his back against the wall as it was. With his assumptions demolished by cold logic. If Oscar had any particular failing, it was a lack of affinity wit

“Bullshit,” Tyson scoffed. “I know what you’ve been up to. You really expect me to believe a Player as good as you couldn’t tell the difference between dead and almost dead?” “All of this was very much a learned skill. You forget I never played video games much before this. What’s more believable, that I just up and turned my back on you or that I was a fucking idiot?” “Both.” “Yeah, well. Think what you’re gonna think, Tyson. But I fucking mourned you. Do you have any idea? I thought I watched you die! What would you have me do? Live in a depression for the rest of my life beca

“Not for a second.” That much was still true. Oscar had never taken any sort of grim satisfaction out of it. He was merely the second half of cause and effect. They’d come gunning for his head and he declined to let them take it. “You misinterpreted my words,” Oscar continued. “You think I’m gonna feel guilty for defending myself? My friends? I could have gone scorched earth months ago. But I had hoped you’d see sense. Maybe you’d come down off your mountain and just fucking talk.” “Why the fuck would I talk to you? You showed where your priorities were. You made all these new f

But Oscar wasn’t going to give the kid the satisfaction of seeing him winded. And if he could stall for time long enough for his health to click back up to full, so much the better. He needed to get himself under control. Even now, at the end of it and after fighting through everything that Tyson had to throw at him, he couldn’t be hasty. Losing his head and rushing in was certain to see him blundering into some final trap. As if Tyson could read Oscar’s mind, he laughed. “What’s wrong? I thought it would be on-sight. Not gonna take my head too? God, you’re such a fraud. All that preachin

“Took you long enough,” Tyson said with a sneer. “Really thought you’d be here sooner. To hear my boys talk, you’re some crazy good Player. How’s that health bar looking?” Oscar’s eye flicked to the top left corner of his HUD. He wasn’t doing too hot, that was certain. Squarely below half health with barely any time to get it back. If Tyson had a grand play here, Oscar had never been more vulnerable. But Oscar couldn’t see anything. He’d proven time and again that trying to sneak up on him was futile. Surely Tyson wouldn’t try it. Of course, that was the type of thinking Tyson thrive

And there he was again, standing on that frigid rooftop. The glacier stretched out beneath them, stark white in all directions. He’d lost track of how many people he’d killed in his frenzied climb through the keep. But there he was. Tyson, finally forced from the shadows. The most surprising bit was the green cursor. Oscar, full of fury as he was then, spat an insult about the kid not being willing to get his hands dirty. It was, of course, riposted with a smart-ass response. For a moment, things were as they were. If you could forget for a moment that the two of them wanted to tear the other

His mind went back. Unlike before, the dark corridor he stood in didn’t shift. Oscar had to wonder for a moment why that was. Both he and his twin had a flair for the dramatic. Neither were above providing “visual aids” to prove their points. But then again, Oscar wasn’t exactly making a point right now. His twin had finally managed to perform its purpose and slip through Oscar’s armor. For the first time in this entire vision quest, Oscar was feeling introspective. He wouldn’t say that he was second-guessing himself. He’d come too far for that. There was no point crying over spilled milk now.

"Don't mention it," came Oscar's response. The professional side of the man wanted to dive into the source of the Whisper's mental anguish. But it would be a bit of a waste of time. He could provide therapy and advice all day, but until the source of the issue was resolved, it wouldn't take. The source here being the fact that they were trapped in a digital prison full of murderers and psychopaths. Back in the real world, Oscar had been quite good at his job - a consummate professional. But they were not there. And the tips and tricks he could provide weren't likely to apply. The best he could

After the travesty of Gabrandr, Oscar was well within his rights to assume that everyone had completely lost their marbles. Two years stuck in virtual reality would do that, but he didn't have any sort of contingency in place in the event the remaining Players decided to hug it out with the enemy hostiles. It remained an ever-present fear. How could one even plan around that? So, it was heartening to see the fervor with which the strangers engaged the boss before them. He'd met these people in passing. Barely acquaintances, if he were being honest. He'd not had the time or the energy

“If you had that duel today, do you think you could win? You won, but you lost your confidence. You don’t think you have what it takes to redeem the kid. And why would you? He’s your biggest failure. And just when you thought that you’d finally gotten through to him, he fell back into old habits. What will you do, Oscar? Can you be there every step of the way? What guarantees do you have that you’ll be there for him this time?” A long silence passed between them as the shadows began to twist and envelop the both of them. Standing once more in the darkness of his own mind, no longer distra

Looking down at the battle, Oscar realized that he’d never fought quite so hard before or since this encounter. It transcended stats and weapons and the System. Every slash and parry, every stunning strike and feint, was executed with masterful precision. Sword and axe clashed together, their combined melody filling the air, reverberating over the plains. Oscar understood what his Twin was getting at. He’d fought Bahr - the most bull-headed and stubborn man he’d ever met - to a complete standstill because he’d steeled himself for the task ahead. Dove in with both feet, to use the Other’s words

“Look,” his twin said. The scene shifted once again, a new vista shimmering to life around them. It was storming. Lighting streaked across the sky, passing closely by the pair as they hovered in the air. Down below, two men clad in green and red clashed with one another. Their blows were concussive. Their moves were graceful. They danced about the rain-soaked plains in a fearsome, bloody clash. In between attacks they sniped at one another. Two different wills pulling both of them apart. Their words were harsh - of course they were. One had crossed a line the other wouldn’t dare to cross,

“So you’re gonna dump responsibility onto someone else now?” “Hold on a sec. Weren’t you just giving me shit for not asking for help? Kinda fucked up to flip like that,” Oscar said. “You keep riding the fence! You can’t commit one way or another. You roll solo until it’s too hard. You run with a pack until they do something you don’t like. You can’t decide. What did the Major say? ‘Whatever you do, don’t half-ass it?’” “What’s your point?” “Commit. You just spent all of this time telling me how you were gonna win and keep winning. No second thoughts. No hesitation. No conti

“That was different. We never killed anyone.” “We got damn close though. We were ready to pull that trigger,” Oscar retorted. “So what? You’re trying to be the Major now?” “That’s always been the point. ‘Redeem the redeemable,’ right?” “And send the rest to Hell,” his Twin finished. “But are you the one who gets to decide whether he can be redeemed? After everything he did, someone should hold him accountable.” “And I am. We can either lock him up in a prison somewhere or make him put that mind of his to work getting us out of here. Maybe he’ll learn how to feel someth

“Because Tyson had it so hard, right? How many people did he kill that had hard lives too? Jason? What about the men he led to the slaughter? That you slaughtered? You act like he was a victim here. He wasn’t. He knew what he was doing.” Oscar took a deep breath. His fists were clenched, his jaw was set. The intake of air was cool. As his lungs filled, his blood ceased boiling. He exhaled, hot and long, and let the anger ebb away. His twin had succeeded in landing a telling blow for the first time since hallucination started. And it was a deep one. “How many people did I rob? How man

“But you had to fuck it up. You had to risk it and make it harder on yourself. You couldn’t take the easy win. The one that minimized the risk to the children the most. You really think if you put out that call-to-arms that at least half of the Frontlines wouldn’t have showed up? A lot of them don’t know you, but they know of you. Your reputation precedes you and not the one where you want to pretend to be this hard mother fucker who kicks ass and chews bubblegum.” “You’re right. But it was my mess.” “Fuck off with that, man. You can lie to everyone else, but you can’t lie to yoursel

“This ain’t exactly the healthiest way to reconcile things, is it?” “Oh, no. Not at all. But you don’t make the healthy choices do you?” Oscar’s twin took control over the scene again. Before them, as if projected on a screen, was Oscar within the belly of a frozen fortress. He was beat up pretty badly. A constant stream of Tyson’s best Player Killers had taken their toll. It had quickly devolved into a war of attrition. He was given no quarter. No time to let his health regenerate. His energy was depleting just as quickly. Every head he claimed took just a bit more out of him. And t

“I’m you,” the Other said as a shit-eating grin rose to his face. “Remember?” “Oh fuck you, dude,” Oscar spat back in response. “What the fuck does a man have to do around here to get respect from his own schizophrenic doppelganger.” “Am I the schizophrenic one or are you?” Oscar paused. He shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning back as he looked up at the sky of Floor 4. “Can’t say as this all warrants a clinical diagnosis. But it’s really fucking weird. Feels like a fever dream or something.” “Well you are asleep,” the Other said. “Farming Bears is really fucking bor

“Anyway,” Oscar continued. “Lessa was one of the friends I worried the most about. She was - and still is - a good person. We wound up getting separated during the rescue attempt. Lessa took the kids and made for the Safe Zone. Freyd and I tried to take point together but got forced apart by the traps in Tyson’s hideout. I don’t know how it went down for either of them, but none of us walked out of there with clean hands. And it was a bittersweet thing. The kids were safe and any doubts on what Lessa would do when her back was against the wall were dispelled. But I never wanted it to come to

“Why is that?” Oscar let out a sigh. “Well, the entire fuckin’ point of killing all those people was to keep my friends from having to do it. Because let’s be real, if Tyson had managed to get me, they’d have had to deal with that situation one way or another, eventually. A whole-ass Guild of Player Killers without a target? Yeah, fuck that. It wouldn’t have taken much for Tyson to lose control of ‘em either.” “His focus was on you.” “Right, and if he lost his focus, he’d lose his position. Some other, stronger, Player would have snapped the Guild up right from under him and the