[F01 - PP] The Monument of Life

[Bahr 0]

Bahr's recent bizarre experience with the location data glitch had filled his mind with doubt. He knew that he had killed Zayne years ago, that much was certain. He had seen him shatter into thousands of fractal polygons, and every time he had looked at Zayne's location data in the past it had come up unavailable. There shouldn't have been a doubt in Bahr's mind that he was gone, so why was there? Probably because he wanted to doubt it. He wanted to believe that there was a chance his friend was still alive. He wanted to feel hope again. But as he approached the Monument of Life, his original theory was confirmed. Assorted in alphabetical order, he found Zayne's name near the bottom, a single line crossed through it. He traced his fingers across the inscription as a lone tear streamed down his cheek, bittersweet emotions bubbling up from his abdomen and infiltrating his chest cavity, threatening to burst forth without a moment's notice.

And that's when he noticed it. His eyes widened and he blinked as he read the cause of death. "Killed by a goblin."

What? What the hell did that mean? No, it should have read, "Player-Killed by Bahr." A goblin? Was this another glitch in the system? Or, could it be...

Could it be...

"No..." Bahr barely managed to utter, weakly backing up from the stone slab as though he had just seen a ghost. "No." His voice was firmer now, his mind refusing to wrap itself around this horrendous realization. "No!" His deep baritone voice loudly bounced off of the walls of the chamber, echoing down the hall he had reached the room through. He fell to his knees, eyes hopelessly affixed to the monolithic stone edifice in abject horror. Tears cascaded from his wet eyes and down his cheeks as though salty rivers carving their way through solid rock. "That's... Impossible. I saw him die. I saw it!" His voice loudly reverberated through the building, a clenched fist hammering down against the marble flooring, prompting a violet <<Immortal Object>> notice to populate.

It all made sense now. When he saw Zayne's location data populate for the first time in two years, it hadn't been a glitch. It had been real. And Bahr had watched the life drain from his best friend for a second time. A cataclysmic whirlwind of emotions surged through Bahr, every last one of his nerves firing ferociously as the deluge of adrenaline swelled and poured violently through his entire body. Within seconds he was sweating buckets, struggling to catch his breath as his mind frantically ran through each and every scenario that could have made this situation possible. His vision went blank as he attempted to synthesize all of the information into an explanation that made sense. He saw modular forms and elliptic curves. Infinite possibilities revolving around infinite parallels. Fractals of infinite reality, each cascading, gliding in an infinite wheel. Visions layered upon visions in a never ending Jenga tower of possibilities that wibbled and wobbled on the unstable foundation of his ever fracturing mind. Was this the true nature of his reality?

@Lessa

Edited August 5, 2019 by Bahr

[Lessa 1]

The hall that housed the Monument of Life was quiet this time of day. A handful of players milled about, some alone, some finding comfort in small groups. They spoke in hushed tones, the sound an eerie murmur against the room's high, arching ceilings. Despite the warm light that poured through the rows of windows, the air still held a somber chill. She watched the sun splash across the dark marble, and marveled at how church-like the space was. It was the closest Lessa would come to stepping foot in a church, likely for the rest of her life.

Then why did she constantly find herself returning to this place? For him, she thought, as her fingers traced his name against the cold stone. But the Monument of Life certainly wasn't for the dead, who would never see their names etched out there. It was for the living, like her, who never quite understood the emotions that she experienced there. Grief, of course. Regret? Perhaps a little. There was guilt, and there was emptiness, yet still she returned. To check on her friends, if she was to be honest with herself; she lacked the capacity to reach out to them on her own. But the monument allowed her to confirm that they were still alive. And the emotions that swamped her, she supposed, confirmed that she was still alive, too.

A sudden outburst shocked her back to reality, and instinct had her grabbing for the Claymore that wasn't there. Within the Black Iron Palace, Lessa saw no need to don armor or weapons. Instead, she wore dark jeans and a pink hooded sweatshirt - nothing that could protect her from any sort of threat. Still, she remained on high alert as her gaze fell on the hysteric man at the other end of the monument. Paranoia, and two years within Aincrad had her moving to check for an orange cursor, but she stopped herself. Don't jump to worst case scenario, she scolded herself, willing her heart rate to slow it's fevered gallop. He couldn't be in here if he were orange.

So rather than falling to the defensive, Lessa closed the distance between herself and the distraught player with long, purposeful strides. He was not the first to fall apart at the foot of the stone wall, and he would absolutely not be the last. Two years ago, Lessa would have folded him into a hug, and held him until he calmed down. Now, however, she slowed to a stop a few paces away. "You're shocky," she told him matter-of-factly. "You should take a few deep breaths, and lie on your back."

@Bahr

Edited August 6, 2019 by Lessa

[Bahr 0]

Bahr had been so distracted by the typhoon of emotions and adrenaline that he hadn't even noticed the young blonde approach. "You're shocky," she told him, each syllable sharp as a whip. "You should take a few deep breaths, and lie on your back."

Lie on his back? No. He had already created enough of a scene. That being said, he couldn't physically bring himself to so much as look at the lady, much less stand fully. His entire body vibrated with intermittent tremors, flashing from hot to cold, then hot again. If vomiting were a feature in Sword Art Online, he was positive he would be doing just that.

"I can't," he croaked shakily, not sure what else to offer in response. He attempted to take deep breaths, but he kept choking on the air, unable to struggle anything more than rapid, shallow gasps. He must have looked absolutely pitiful. Surely nobody had seen him in such a state since he was skinny young boy. Eventually, he managed to crane his neck up a bit, his crimson and verdant orbs flickering toward the source of the voice. His vision was blurred and impossible to focus, but from what he could make out it was a petite blonde, average in height, adorned in feminine casual garb with a weapon equipped. 

As much as his pride screamed at him for doing so, he extended a hand toward the woman, silently pleading for her to help him to his feet. The longer he remained on the floor like this, the more affixed to it he seemed to become. Like a bubbling epoxy oozing from between the tiles of the floor, adhering Bahr to its cold surface and threatening to hold him there forever lest someone save him from its progressively choppy waves.

Edited August 7, 2019 by Bahr

[Lessa 1]

Though it was a silly and overused cliche, Lessa's jaw nearly dropped. To avoid the embarrassment of scooping her jaw off the marble, she clenched her teeth tightly. Where she had expected the hot lick of anger, she was met instead by... a child. Blue eyes wide and blinking, she regarded the other player for a few seconds, suspended in momentary disbelief. He was a toddler, and having reached rock bottom, he was reaching for her. She would have to be a complete monster to turn away now.

So instead, the woman reached back. One hand clasped his, and with a gentle tug, she pulled him to his feet. Her other hand found his shoulder, and she held to further steady his trembling form. Like a leaf in a windstorm, she mused, newfound pain a vice around her heart. Had she not felt that same way, as she had peered over the edge of the world? As she had imagined herself falling, streaking toward the end of it all? Slowly, Lessa inhaled through her nose, suddenly finding it necessary to steady herself.

"Here we go," she muttered, more out of necessity to say something.The relative quiet in the hall had grown suddenly deafening, especially as many conversations had ceased after the boy's meltdown. She felt the gazes burning into her as she navigated her new charge toward a decorative slab of marble. She had no idea if bench was its intended purpose, but it would work well enough for now. With the care she had practiced around skittish foals, the blonde motioned for him to sit. "Just breathe," she stated once more. "You can do it. Just try."

@Bahr

Edited August 7, 2019 by Lessa

[Bahr 0]

Be took a seat on the slab, its cool surface feeling icy against his heated flesh. He clasped his hands together and rested his elbows against his knees, knuckles turning white from the vice grip of their interlaced fingers. Somehow, he had managed to get his respiration back on track, taking slow and steady - albeit shaky - breaths. His eyes were affixed to the central edifice of the room, scanning it as though doubting its authenticity. He knew it was real, but still couldn't bring himself to reconcile what he had read.

"Thank you," he finally sighed, his eyes shifting from the tablet to the young woman for the first time since they had sat down. They then perused the chamber, taking note of everyone who had witnessed the fiasco. Some noise had managed to return to the room, mostly murmured whispers exchanged between passersby, offering glances in Bahr's direction between hushed tones. Some of their expressions were sympathetic, others judgmental. A few here and there gazed upon him with abject apathy, offering nothing more than a blank stare and a sharp exhale through the nose. 

He cleared his throat, the embarrassment starting to set in. Losing it in such a public place wasn't going to do much for his already tarnished reputation. Although, considering he had never been held in high regard before now, it seemed silly to allow something like this get to him. His eyes again flickered to the young woman sitting next to him. "My name's Bahr," he declared flatly, some normalcy finally returning to his voice. "Sorry for making a scene. You didn't need to help me, so I appreciate that you did."

If there was something Bahr was good at, it was putting up walls. Though it may have seemed as though he had recollected himself, he was still an absolute mess emotionally. Though, anyone who had just seen what had happened could probably slice through such a flimsy "wall" like a box cutter through wet paper. He wasn't fooling anyone.

 

Edited August 9, 2019 by Bahr

[Lessa 1]

Relief ghosted across her features as he sat without protest. His eyes began to crawl across their surroundings, likely realizing how many people had witnessed the meltdown. At this point, Lessa wouldn't be surprised if he began to fight her; grief and embarrassment were always a volatile mixture. But he put up no fight, and settled onto the bench with only breathy word of thanks. She, in turn, simply nodded.

Though she had experienced the same loss, Lessa had no idea what was going through his head. It appeared that he was settling down a bit, but by what method? Was he truly coming to terms with the death, or burying the emotions for another time? She couldn't claim to know, as she hardly knew the man, but she hoped it was the former.

When he finally turned to her, she was momentarily startled by his duel-toned eyes. How had she not noticed those before? They were striking, but at the same time, worked to give him a somewhat wild look. It was strangely unsettling. "No need to apologize," she replied plainly, loosing a one-shouldered shrug. "You weren't the first, and you won't be the last." She stretched her long legs out in front of her, and crossed the brown boots at the ankle, turning to survey the stone slab before them. "I feel like this is kind of the place for it. And the place to comfort people who need it, so that's fine too." The last bit was delivered hastily, as if Lessa did not care to dwell on the issue. Sure, she didn't have to help him, and many wouldn't have. But that was her recently acquired pessimism speaking.

"My name is Lessa," she added, shaking out her blonde hair before cutting him a side-ways glance. "Nice to meet you, Bahr."

Edited August 8, 2019 by Lessa

[Bahr 0]

A slight scoff parted his lips as a snide grin crawled across his vision, eyes narrowing as they regarded the woman with skeptical indifference. "Is that why you came here? To comfort the ones who lose it? Given your temperament, I find that hard to believe," he surmised, folding his arms against his chest and leaning back. The patrons of the chamber seemed to have largely gotten over the outburst, returning to their own business as the quiet cacophony of overlapping voices filled the structure once more. 

"What is it that you're really here for?" he mused, craning his head to regard her properly. Truthfully, he wasn't actually all that interested, but people loved talking about themselves. With any luck, he could divert attention away from his meltdown and pour his energy into anything else; even the quandaries of a complete stranger were a better alternative than trying to process whatever this was, the influx of hormones and adrenaline still delivering surges of heat and chills through his circulatory system. 

[Lessa 1]

There was that flash of an attitude. At least he was feeling better.

Lessa schooled her expression into something more relaxed, and less readable. Oddly enough, his skepticism amused her. “You don’t know a thing about me, or my temperament,” she told him, though not particularly unkindly. Instead, she stated the fact with the simple certainty of a woman commenting on a rising sun, or a blue sky. It was just the truth.

“I only hoped you wouldn’t feel too bad about needing the help,” she continued, finally giving him a sideways smile. “You seem to have gotten over yourself though, and that’s nice.”

She knew she didn’t owe the man any sort of explanation, just as she hadn’t been obligated to help him. But despite her snide remark, she knew he wasn’t healed - no one bounced back so quickly. Perhaps providing him an outlet might pay off in the end. Lessa was no one’s punching bag - not anymore - but she could take a recently-distraught man slapping at her a bit.

”I come here to check on the people I care about,” came her simple answer. “They’re all spread across this floating Hell, living their own lives. It’s an easy way to make sure that they’re...” still alive? “... still okay.”

Edited August 9, 2019 by Lessa

[Bahr 0]

Bahr listened thoughtfully to her consequent retorts and explanation, quietly chuckling to himself and shaking his head. If it was banter she wanted, it was banter she would get.

"See, you say that, but you're a lot easier to figure out than you probably think," he mused, shifting his position to slouch a bit. "Attractive blonde, almost mid-twenties but not quite. You've experienced some sort of trauma in Aincrad, which is why you feel the need to check up on your friends here. This is further evidenced by helping out someone like me, a total stranger, despite your matter-of-fact yet aloof demeanor. It's possible you used to be a lot more open, but this place has forced you to put up walls that distance you from most others." He paused for a moment, reading her expression before closing his eyes and settling back against the wall. "If I were to guess, you use this location as a symbolic reservoir for your trauma. You could use your friend list to check on anyone close to you, but choose instead to check the Monument of Life because its the appropriate location. It would be easy to bottle it up here, because you've already bottled it up here."

His eyelids parted as he cast is crimson and verdant orbs toward her again. "How am I doing so far?"

Edited August 9, 2019 by Bahr

[Lessa 1]

Lessa listened in respectful silence, giving a soft “hmm” noise when he had concluded. “Not bad, Nancy Drew,” she commented, studying the scuffed toes of her boots. She paused, then turned back to him. “But here’s the problem - you’ve successfully described about half of Aincrad. There isn’t a single person here who hasn’t experienced trauma, and it’s made many bleeding hearts distant and detached.”

She blinked blue eyes at him, studying his face before adding, “But okay, let’s play detective. You’ve gone from puddle on the floor to whatever this is pretty quickly. Tells me you’re pretty good at covering up your emotions when you want to. Again, I could say the same thing about most everyone in the game. But you’ve pointed out my need to comfort others twice now. Maybe because that’s not your first instinct?” 

Thoughtfully, she tilted her head a bit, mane of loose blonde hair falling over one shoulder. “I don’t think you’re heartless,” she continued, “but you strike me as the type who prefers to remain more withdrawn. You probably pride yourself on being a tough read. Whatever your motivation is, you’re intense about it, given how strong your grief was. I bet you’re a force in combat.”

Who are you describing? A small voice cautioned her. Because it wasn’t Bahr’s face she was seeing anymore. The concept flipped her stomach, and she was suddenly less interested in being Sherlock.

”But hey,” she finished with a cheeky grin, “it’s sweet that you think I’m attractive.”

[Bahr 0]

"I guess you're right - about describing half of Aincrad, that is. Your analysis does the same thing," he retaliated breathily, raising both of his hands to the back of his head and slouching even more, "painting me into a picture alongside thousands of others roaming this floating monument as we speak." His eyes lazily shifted to meet with hers just in time to catch a more serious expression. It was momentary, fleeting, but unmistakable. "... Along with whoever you just thought of, I'd wager."

"But hey," she concluded in deflection, "it's sweet that you think I'm attractive."

"Hah!" he chortled, bending his neck back and looking up. "Classic misdirection. You're good." Since this game of psychological tennis wasn't particularly going anywhere, maybe it was time to shift to something a bit more amicable. "I'd say you've pegged me about as well as I've pegged you. How sad is it that this hellscape has forced us all into the same little boxes? Everyone is still 'unique,' but there's only so many ways one can metabolize an experience like this. Most of them aren't good."

[Lessa 1]

"It's an odd thing," she agreed. "I'd like to say that threat of death has us all falling into these specific categories, but couldn't you argue the same for the real world? Realistically, we're always facing our demise outside of the game, too; never know when you're going to be hit by a bus, or have a tree fall on you when you're walking down the street. But it still feels different here." The blonde fell into thoughtful silence as she watched a couple approach the stone monument. Hushed words were exchanged, before the man folded the woman into his arms. They stood there, wrapped in each other, a picture of love and comfort. Lessa blew out a soft breath, sending her bangs flying, before she spoke again.

"I wonder if its just the game itself, and the fact that we can't really specialize. You can have different builds, I guess, but you're still a fighter. When it comes to occupations, which I think is a defining trait in the real world, we're pretty limited, too. There really isn't a need for things like Human Resource reps, or nutritionists, or sculptors, or carpenters, or that sort of thing. The professions are geared toward combat." Her voice grew quieter as she added, "Everything is. You can't get away from it, even when you try."

[Bahr 0]

"That's true," Bahr remarked thoughtfully. Indeed, it did seem as though everything in all of Aincrad was geared toward combat. As someone who found himself to have an affinity for slaughtering hordes of helpless mobs, he hadn't really ever stopped to consider things from that point of view. There were undoubtedly thousands who had signed in on launch day with the simple goal of interacting with this world, completely uninterested in the combat aspect of it. Now they found themselves locked into a never ending death game, the main prerogative being "kill or be killed." She had given him a lot to think about.

"I guess I never really thought of it that way," he admitted, sitting up straight and leaning forward, his elbows resting against his knees once more. "My life outside of Aincrad was never really so remarkable. Simple salesman, no higher education. Essentially a waste. When I got dropped in here, I moped around waiting for somebody for awhile, but I'm pretty sure she left me behind a long time ago to join the frontlines. Ironically, I'd wager she went there looking for me," he chortled through the last bit, looking up at the ceiling and admiring its ornate carvings. This was the sort of place she would have loved. He could practically hear her bubbly enthusiasm now, remarking on each smooth cut into the marble and every ornate fixture that filled the structure. "Once I got out of the Town of Beginnings, I found out I was pretty good at fighting. I actually think I might enjoy it a little too much. Ever since I've felt like that was my role, so I never really questioned it and went along with my business. It was like I had found my calling - something important. I hadn't really considered how many existed within these walls that couldn't live a life like that."

A moment of silence filled the air after Bahr's small monologue, the chatter of the Monument of Life's patrons filling the gap. 

"In the end, once I get out of here, it will be meaningless. There aren't many swordsman positions to fill out there in the real world. I'll go back to being unremarkable, not like that's such a bad thing," 'but without her, there isn't much of a point,' he concluded silently, grinding his teeth. His neck craned back toward Lessa, eyes flickering to meet with hers once more. "And what about you? What were you known for in the real world before coming here?"

[Lessa 1]

In truth, Lessa was startled by the amount of information Bahr was willingly sharing with her. Had she been incorrect to assume he kept his walls up? Or had her observation of that fact been enough to prompt his sharing? Regardless, she learned a lot more about him than she had expected to.

"I was doing the whole college thing," she told him, pulling one leg up and underneath her for a more comfortable seat. "Studying to be a teacher. I was going into my last year, and already had quite a few hours in the classroom." A faint smile played about her lips as she added, "I really loved it. I tried to work with some kids here in Aincrad, and spent a lot of time training lower-level fighters, but it just wasn't the same."

Briefly, Lessa let her eyes close as she ventured back into the past. It had been an incredibly long time since she'd allowed herself a trip down memory lane, and the journey wasn't nearly as pleasant as it had once been. "I was pretty fortunate, in the beginning. I made a lot of friends, had a good time training, and jumped right onto the frontlines. I guess I felt a little untouchable, back then. Didn't worry too much about the risks. I naively thought I'd be home right away, and so I let myself get distracted by dumb things like boys and petty drama." Her eyes opened once more, and the generally peaceful blue had darkened with an approaching storm. "It wasn't until people started dying that reality hit me."

"I'm not sure I ever bounced back after that first death," she confessed, studying a stray bit of thread in the seam of her pants. She picked at it as she considered. "I never took a particular liking to combat. I know a lot of people who feel the way you do, that Sword Art has given them purpose. But..." she trailed, letting her gaze wander. "I really, really hate this place."

[Bahr 0]

Looked like his provocation had worked out. Before long she was spilling the beans about her own life, filling him in on details about her world outside of Aincrad, shedding light on the trauma that had turned this place for her, and a bit of what she had done since the game launched. Give and take, as most things were. "Yep, I know what you mean," was all he offered her in stark contrast, once again sealing himself and his history off from her. He had revealed too much already, but at least now he knew what he was dealing with. He settled back against the wall, eyes distant and thoughtful, not focusing on any one thing in particular. His arms folded into his chest once more as he contemplated what to say next. He had to offer her something after everything she had just said.

"If I can help make sure at least one person like you make it through, I will have done my job. Whether I personally make it out or not," was what he inevitably settled on. It wasn't that he had a responsibility to "protect" or "save" the citizens of Aincrad, or even that he felt obligated to. It was just a consequence of the path he had chosen. Inevitably, he would play his role in helping clear the game, and people who actually had something to offer to the world would hopefully be allowed to blossom forth from this prison, influencing countless others with their light in a domino effect that cast their luminance through countless fractal prisms to cascade further and further and touch a wider net than he could possibly even fathom. Long after he was gone, his actions here would have an effect on what happened outside, and he took solace in that.

"So. On a scale of one to ten, how much do you hate Aincrad?" he mused, challenging her to draw a firm line in the sand about it. She had mentioned being frontlines before, but judging by the way she had worded everything, it seemed she no longer was. It was time to dig into that and figure out why.

Edited August 14, 2019 by Bahr

[Lessa 1]

Though he delivered the statement casually enough, the words were a punch to Lessa's gut. Helping others escape, even at the cost of one's own life. As long as you make it, it doesn't matter what happens to me. It took effort to swallow around the newly formed lump in her throat, but the woman managed to do so. Her hands, which had been busily picking at the stray thread, balled into fists in her lap. The sensation of her nails digging into her palms helped to ground her.

"Sounds pretty noble," she stated finally. "I'm sure you don't see it that way, but from where I'm sitting, it's some classic white knight stuff." She offered him a small smile over her shoulder, meant to show good humor, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I imagine that it's going to be because of people like you that we beat this game. People who have it all figured out, and have some sort of plan."

"And that," she concluded, following his lead and leaning against the wall, "is why I give this a whopping nine on the hate scale. I had a clear-cut purpose in the real world. I even had one when the game first started. But I've lost it, and I've lost people I care about." She looked at him, and though her tone was genuine, her gaze was distant. "I'm glad the game gives you a reason to fight, but there's a lot of people still searching for that. And instead, they feel fear, and loneliness, and hopelessness." The girl scoffed softly, "And I used to think those people were weak."

[Bahr 0]

"White knight? Please!" Bahr gibed as he shifted his position, chuckling as he contemplated what she had said. "Give me 'Crimson Marauder,' at least." He settled back into his original position with a grin and stifled sigh. "Ah, well. At least you don't call me 'Bloodedge' like the rest."

A moment of silence fell between the two, Bahr rapping his fingers against the sleeve of his coat. "It isn't weak to feel things like that. Hell, I spent over two years waiting in the Town of Beginnings. I didn't start going out until a little over a month ago." Another moment of silence. "I found my purpose, and so can you. But that can only happen after you take the first step. Right now, you seem paralyzed, and I get the feeling your older self would want to kick your ass if she saw you know. She'd probably win, too," he chortled, giving her a sideways glance.

"What did I tell you? Like a book."

[Lessa 1]

"Bloodedge," Lessa echoed, quirking an eyebrow. It had a cinematic feel to it, she supposed, but more WWE Wrestler than frontline warrior. Not that she would say as much, of course. "How in the world did you end up with that one?"

At his reference to her past self, Lessa mused silently for a long time. She turned the notion over in her head, like an unfamiliar flavor on her tongue; she wasn't sure if she liked it. In fact, it would be incredibly easy to find offense in the man's statement. He really didn't know that much about who she'd been two years ago, and besides, to say her previous self would beat up her current one didn't say much about present-tense Lessa. But instead of slamming her walls into place, which would have been the easy (and cowardly) way out, she gave a small laugh. The sound didn't hold much humor, though.

"Not sure past-Lessa would have kicked anyone's ass," the girl stated. "She was tough, and she'd probably be annoyed at me for leaving the frontlines, but she was a pretty forgiving person. At least, when the game first started. She spent a lot of time worrying about others, comforting them, doing the whole song and dance. Hell, it was enough to push some people away." Lessa shrugged a shoulder, and added, "I still care about people, don't get me wrong. But I don't try to save people. That was my sole mission back then. If you'd told me you were fine, I'd follow you around begging you to open up, refusing to believe you. Now?" For the first time, a bit of humor crept into her smile. "If you tell me you're fine, I believe you, and let you go on your way. No use pushing, you know?"

[Bahr 0]

"Well, you'd be a lot cooler if you did," Bahr theorized, taking a deep breath and standing with a grunt. "Although, I can't blame you. Most who used to be like that have faded into more or less what you are now. It's the ones that rise above that who become beacons for the rest of us."

There was a pause. Bahr contemplated whether or not he should address her inquiry at all. In the end he decided it was only fair, seeing as he was the one who had brought it up in the first place and she had shared so much about herself.

"As for how I got the name, up until recently I would have told you to look on the Monument for answers," he remarked flatly, pointing at the stone tablet in the center of the room. "I killed a guy named Zayne on launch day, right before the announcement. Never saw his location data again, until yesterday. It was only a blip, but it finally encouraged me to come here for the first time and see for myself. Wish I hadn't."

Another pause.

"He was my best friend."

With that, he turned toward the door, tears welling under his eyelids once more. He let his hair fall upon his face to hide it. "Thanks for the chat. I'll see you around." Without another word, he started toward the door, boots thudding loudly against the marble floor. After a few moments, a menu would pop up in front of Lessa.

Edited August 17, 2019 by Bahr

[Lessa 1]

She stared after him for a long while, even after his shrinking form disappeared, and the friend invite popped up before her. His departure had been sudden, as had the information dump he’d provided before leaving.

Killed his friend? How was that possible? Given the fact he wasn’t labeled a player killer, there must have been more to the story. Plus, why would Zayne’s location have shown up if he died on launch day?

Lessa frowned, settling back against the wall as she studied the friendship prompt. Bahr was complicated, and proved to be even more-so with his departing declaration. Realistically, she would be better off cutting ties. This could be a weird, one-off interaction, right? But if the emotion he’d displayed had been an act, he would have to be a top-tier performer. Could she really abandon him after that?

Of course she could.

But she wouldn’t.

In one swift motion, Lessa accepted the friend request, and climbed to her feet. A part of her wanted to analyze the monument, and find out just what happened to this Zayne player. But no, he would tell her when he was ready. With that thought, Lessa left the hall.