The Ultimation (Play to Live: Book #7) Read online

  Play to Live

  by D. Rus

  Book 7

  The Ultimation

  Play to Live

  Book 7: The Ultimation

  Copyright © D.Rus 2016

  Cover Art © Kadziro

  Translators © Brian Pikaard, Alisa Bogodarova 2016

  All Rights Reserved

  Also by D. Rus:

  AlterWorld (Play to Live: Book #1)

  The Clan (Play to Live: Book #2)

  The Duty (Play to Live: Book #3)

  Inferno (Play to Live: Book #4)

  The Battle (Play to Live: Book #5)

  The War (Play to Live: Book #6)

  Stories (Play to Live World)

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  MMORPG Glossary

  Chapter One

  Earth. Emergency message from the Civil Defense Center. Compulsory activation of all display and sound-information devices.

  System tags: Urgent. Must view. Confirmation of receipt.

  Attention! This is NOT a drill! Due to the external aggression of an unknown enemy, martial law has been introduced over the entire territory of the Russian Federation. All military personnel are to report to their duty stations immediately. Leave, layoffs, and travel are hereby canceled by order of the State Defense Committee. All those liable for military service and subject to mobilization—await orders on your personal communicators! Everyone else—note the time of the curfew and promptly inform the authorities about any unusual activity, including the unbelievable. And now please listen to an address from the Motherland's Defense Headquarters.

  "Citizens of Russia! This is AI Leviathan! I have an important announcement from the government!.."

  * * *

  In the very heart of the Super Nova, the Sphere of Resurrection spun slowly. Its crystal walls vibrated noiselessly, resonating in time with my stream of curses and bloodied fists.

  My internal interface, overloaded with monitors, status and chat boxes, was suddenly blocked by the window of a high-priority message.

  Warning! Lloth is eager to harbor your soul in her Chambers. Accept the will of the goddess?

  Not holding anything back, I snarled, "Fuck the goddess!"

  The will of the Atheist is stronger than the power of the goddess... Resurrection in 10... 9... 8...

  The indestructible material of the Sphere plaintively rang out, frosted over with tiny cracks, and slowly gave in to the furious onslaught of He Who Walks the Stairs of Heaven. On the count of three, the crystal sobbed and finally surrendered, crumbling into thousands of melting fragments.

  I roared like a bear escaped from its cage. "Moron! Idiot! Who did I believe? Who of my friends did I enlist? That's what's happening now on Earth?! A breach of Inferno? A victory march of the legions of Hell? You fool...”

  Trying to greet his master, Lurch shut up mid-sentence, frightened.

  I raged, destroying furniture and maiming my fists on the walls of the monolith. Mixed with blood, fragments of stone flew in all directions, finishing off what my thirst for destruction could not reach.

  After an especially sharp hook with an involuntary discharge of raw power, Lurch couldn't help himself and groaned in pain.

  That took the wind out of my sails. I froze and looked around. Marred by pockmarks, the walls sparkled with hundreds of large crystals of the Tears of Stone and crimson beads of my own dried blood.

  "Forgive me, my friend... I don't know what I’m doing. I did something stupid—something fatal and I doubt whether it can be fixed."

  "It's nothing...” grunted the keeper of the Super Nova. “It happens to the best of us...”

  I frowned. "Lurch, don't overreact. I apologized already. Stop playing the victim."

  Lurch began speaking in a normal voice again. "It actually did really hurt. I don't know how you do it, but now I'd rather work with hundreds of raging ogres than with one mentally imbalanced First Priest."

  "Beat your own so that others fear you," I grumbled, inspecting my self-inflicted wounds.

  My hands suffer eternally, covered in scars and fracture calluses like those of someone who has attempted suicide repeatedly.

  My Health sank by two-thirds. Considering the total amount of hits, I'd get tired of recovering with vials. Even minor injuries had to be treated.

  Removing a Greater Healing scroll from the belt of my bandolier, I broke the seal. Minus ninety gold. It was chump change, but my inner greedy pig glared at me, adding the unnecessary expenditures in a column and conspicuously circling the total balance.

  I know, I know... Quiet, fatso. Virtual warfare isn't all fun and loot, but considerable costs. And that's precisely where your accounting should be looking, so quit grinning.

  The door to the apartment swung open. Ear Cutters from the inner defense group burst into the room. A death debuff marker turned crimson above the heads of these fierce girls.

  What was that now? The girls had either died trying to finish off the last of the Silver Legion or committed mass sepuku, wishing to join their guarded client as soon as possible. Virtuality forced players to give up immediate revenge—what if, while you were killing your feudal lord's murderers, he was already being cut to shreds all over again where he resurrected?

  Judging by the way the girls were sheathing their heirloom black sais, group suicide had indeed taken place. But that was understandable. There is no greater shame for a bodyguard than to outlive his or her protected person. Life's meaning is lost and it is time for a new circle of rebirth. There’s just one problem—when you’re but a digitized avatar, your code of honor becomes questionable to say the least.

  I threw a careful glance to Lizzie—what had caused that spontaneous kiss before the grenade exploded? Had the predatory instincts of the female Drow been triggered? Had her muscle memory kicked in, or had all of her memories come back in full?

  Judging by her slightly guilty face, Lizzie viewed the incident as a disciplinary offense, nothing more. Raised by the values of a strict matriarchy and boiling in an adrenaline cocktail seconds before her death, she couldn't have resisted the temptation of pressing her lips to the man who had caught her fancy. Well, well...

  I made a stern face, casually brushing it off. "Everything's just fine with me. To your service stations, circle round, maaarch!

  The girls chaotically swung around, slightly jostling each other in the doorway. Their narrow shoulders and hourglass waists easily fit through, but their tempting, round asses made for quite a lovely traffic jam.

  I shook my head, driving away my alpha instincts. Averting my gaze, I stared out the open window, thinking about more important things. What are my priorities? What's important and what's urgent? What's necessary and what's essential?

  The logic of events dictated one thing, and my personal preferences, another. In the avalanche of today's events, I suddenly understood one startling fact. I had melded with my status. Thousands of subordinates, tens of thousands of allies, and an order of magnitude more of enemies—all had brought out something in me that was in harmony with my own thoughts.

  The Fallen One's phenomenon. That of which the Fallen One was so afraid now directly concerned me. The all-knowing and doubtless
children of the Creator considered me ruthless. And now I hacked up vulnerable flesh with adamant, spreading terror and killing immortals.

  Enemies made excuses for their own defeats and whispered horror stories about the Dark Rituals I performed, and the Darkness all the more eagerly responded to the appeals, creating an aura of raw power and threatening to dissolve an arrogant little man. After all, it wasn’t a game anymore! The Darkness, even with its crisp, white sparkles, was real and true! And within it, obscure shadows floated, divine temptations flashed, and the crowns of Lords and kings sparkled...

  No idea how I was supposed to contend with this. By changing the layers of reality, reinventing the cleansing rituals, or by supporting PR departments responsible for laundering my reputation?

  What should I be doing? What should I be grasping at? At my feet lay half-empty castles, sweet locations and gorgeous breaches of reality. They were calling my name! But despite all that, even the interests of the clan, the Alliance, and the cluster don't always align. Where the clan leader shouts, "Seize it!" the head of the alliance prefers to shower their ally in generous gifts while the prospective dictator of the cluster just curls his lips in contempt.

  Sighing, I resolutely slammed the virtual journal shut. Still disbelieving, I admired my freshly acquired ability: Portal to Alpha Zone. Gently touching the spell icons, I read the hints that popped up.

  Hmm. Such a treasure couldn’t belong to a single person. It was worth more than a person's miserable life and even more than an entire sea of children's tears.

  A potential bridge between two worlds! The expansion of human civilization, a new path of development, and all that unbelievable knowledge and skills! Inconceivable...

  I shook my head. You're in it now, Max...

  I connected to the battle chat. They had crushed the demons, as expected. Only a couple dozen of them even remained. The level-400 creatures, knowingly walking to their death, had caused the Alliance a lot of trouble. However, they stood no chance against a raid.

  Underground galleries temporarily transformed into slaughterhouses where people's innards hung even from the ceiling. The creatures of Inferno loved to finish their wounded game off with showy fatalities. Half of the clan didn't need the portal home anymore—they had gone to their respawn point on their own.

  The portal to Earth had collapsed immediately after my death. General Frag had taken command onto himself. Dan and Orcus helped manage the ensuing confusion and panic. The death of a leader is an insidious thing—many a time has it turned a victorious army into a demoralized, fleeing mob.

  Praise be the Fallen One! The materialization of AlterWorld hadn’t destroyed the most important constant of this Universe—immortality. The clan leader is dead—long live the clan leader! Only in the virtual world does this phrase acquire a true meaning.

  Although... I glanced at the experience bar. I’d lost an awful lot of XP. A surprising amount, actually. Twice as much as before. Could it be that I just didn't know the standard penalties for level-300 characters? I couldn't find the numbers in the public-access guides. The elites of a cluster were those who’d broken into the top one hundred, a strategic commodity in and of itself. They didn't share that kind of information for free. We were at the end of progress; on the edge of attack. We were catching all the bosses and collecting the freshest treats. Those who followed only got the stale crumbs that they unknowingly mistook for chocolate cookies.

  Finally, I made a decision. I mulled it over for another few seconds, carefully double-checking it, but never bringing it into doubt. Statistics show that an intuitive answer is usually right. If we lose ourselves in thought and change our decision, 70 percent of the time we make a mistake.

  I needed to save myself.

  I gave myself the go-ahead. I'd assume control of the alliance. "General Frag, bring the people out of the dungeon! Leave only the dwarfs. Let them study the field of operations, start digging out exploratory tunnels or whatever they have there. We're going to dig up this spotty base until we're finished, even if we have to dig half a mile deep. My inner greedy pig says that at the bottom there are respectable reserves of gold, artifacts, and metal for transfer to the Alpha Zone. By the way, they might also locate isolated areas with our 'friends'' bind points down there.”

  I paused. "Orcus! Here's a liner for you! Your objective: assimilate and utilize this unexpected inheritance down to the last rusty bolt and restroom sign! There's enough even for our grandkids. As for our competitors, drive them off mercilessly. We aren't going to give up this goldmine to anyone. Handle the electronics and machines with all the care in the world!"

  Waiting for confirmation, I continued to dole out orders. "Dan! Dismiss all questions. There's going to be a meeting of the most inner circle at 12:00. We'll talk there. For you—external security and verification of the outcasts. One of them, sharp and beautiful, I already brought myself. Look at the scouts' reports. Your hair will stand on end. Over the last four hours, our intelligence services have brought in almost one hundred and fifty shocked, bleary-eyed people from Earth. They don't even have time to put their coordinates on the map! Imagine a rickety sixteen-story apartment building, bogged down in the sands of the Frontier!”

  Unable to resist, I forwarded a couple of particularly spectacular screenshots to the chat. Our very own Moscow-located Leaning Tower of Pisa, dammit. After a brief flurry of enraptured cursing, I continued.

  "It appears there's no one living there. The hill moved in the worst possible direction, a few hundred feet from a vampire nest. However, we must earth up this real estate! And the people must resurrect, urgently! Those who aren't found within a week will disappear into the Great Nothing, just like their gravestones. I wouldn't bet on seven days, though, because most of them will lose their minds much sooner. In the absolute and starved emptiness, it's very difficult to hold onto your sanity and your memories. I saw it for myself."

  And as a final treat,

  "Lazarus Moiseyevich! I'll need you at tonight's meeting. Attendance is strictly mandatory! Additional field of operations—external relations and long-range reconnaissance. We probably lost most of the contacts from our Asian friends. Take care of restoring diplomatic relations. You know the vector of our interests. Orcus and Cryl will work with you in tandem. Transfer experience to the younger generation.”

  At the same time, you yourself will be under control, I added mentally. Thanks for the lesson, Asmodeus. May your afterlife be bright, you beast!

  I gave the all-clear and switched to the castle's household channel. Here, like always, there's confusion and vacillation. Superintendents shaking down their storekeepers. Inspectors terrifying their performers. Everyone looking for everyone else but unable to find them. Added to this noble chaos were the goblins, mumbling in some incomprehensible pidgin language.

  Yep.

  With administrative tyranny I froze the Babylonian dissonance and summoned Durin. I unpaused the chat, watching the shocked silence in the channel. The big boss came down from heaven and glanced into the little room at the sanitation workers. Jesus.

  Out of breath, a necro-dwarf appeared after fifteen minutes. During this time, I’d managed to dig deeper into the storage interface and pick out the best of what was kept in the vast arsenal of the Super Nova for myself. There was too much at stake to blush in fits of false modesty.

  I entrusted Durin with the list, but at the same time—true to human nature—asked him to reveal any concealed items he might have and to hand over his firearms.

  "I got nothing..." the faithful dwarf shrugged, then added in his singsong Ukrainian accent, "Everything went up in smoke in the battles at Tianlong's skeleton and Yavanna's walls."

  After a moment's hesitation, he said, "I know where another big-bada-boom is. Will that help?"

  I nodded respectfully, impressed by Durin's mastery over his own greed. "Thank you, my friend. Not to me personally and not right now, but it will certainly come in handy to the clan. I appreciate it."


  The caretaker frowned. It's one thing to provide a personal service to your leader, but quite another to give up what was essentially personal property for the collective use of the clan. Finally regaining control over himself, he threw his multicolored beard over his shoulder, rubbed his tattooed brow, and studied the list that was presented to him.

  "Oh wow," the dwarf whispered, underscoring the parchment with his thick nails.

  I understood him. My bold claim was going to take the clan's closed funds to the cleaners.

  Three sets of armor:

  A PK set, with extremely high resistance to elements and various life-saving abilities. Total cost—three million gold at the old prices. It's still not clear how the market reacted to the breach of the worlds.

  On one hand, there could be a glutted market and inevitable inflation. Too much gold had been squirreled away in the treasuries despite the fact that the total population had dropped by an order of magnitude and the channel for dumping excess gold into reality and exchanging it for dollars no longer existed.

  On the other hand, these days some of the items had turned into delicate ornaments, unable to take a single hit. The combat sections’ equipment of both the clan and the alliance was a couple years out of date. Procuring new top gear had turned from a routine raid task to a feat of valor.

  The dwarf sighed, shook his head, and read on.

  A Death Knight’s Necro Set was tailor-built to summon the nastiest pet possible—one that had preserved and maxed-out its original already-lethal properties. Considering I had a whole platoon of pets, the presence of this set in my pocket was significant. One problem—I was too far ahead of my clan members' levels. Where and to which part of the group I'd have to release the Soul Stones to remained unclear.

  The estimated cost of the set was half a million gold.