Dream Drive: Yuri Ch. 01

"Because we are close to the Mountain."

"Which mountain?"

"The Mountain. The spike of soil that rose from the dirt when Lucifer fell. It was turned to rock by the heat of the fall. It is located just west of here. The land all around the Mountain was flattened by Lucifer's fall. We call it the Plains."

Yuri raised an eyebrow. "No kidding? You've got the gates of Hell just to the west of here?"

The elder smiled. "Not the gates of Hell. Just the gates to Lucifer's prison. The place where he is entombed for all eternity, bound by the chains Michael made with the Flaming Sword." His smile faded. "It is also where you must go."

"Oh, is it, now?"

The elder earnestly nodded. "Yes. It is the focal point of your quest. The Trickster said so."

Yuri finally remembered the meaning of the number 5016. That's how many people would be playing Isis during the beta phase of development. Five thousand would be invited to play in a few weeks, while the sixteen finalists of the tournament were allowed in early. He had missed it cause he had thought that only the winner would get a copy of the game. He grunted softly. Was this backstory the work of his friends, or the original? Or a mixture of the two? The self-referential nature of the number suggested it was Crux being meta. Plus, there was the timing of the prophecy. Five years ago was when Crux had begun development of Isis.

He still found it a little tough to reconcile what he knew of Emil Mohammed's faith with this odd take on Abrahamaic mythology. Yuri wasn't so devout as to ask for a fatwa to be declared on the man. Far from it. He only cared if his intelligence on the man had been lacking. In the field of intelligence work, one must build huge pyramids of conclusions, extrapolated from very little evidence. If even one of those pieces of basic evidence was flawed, then the whole pyramid would come crashing down into the cesspit of being very, very wrong.

Yuri shelved the dilemma. He'd find out the truth when he visited the Cipher School later today.

"We have always been against expanding into the Plains. Our religion forbade it, ever since the Trickster told us what was under the Mountain." The elder sighed. The light in his eyes dimmed and he looked like a tired, old man. "Marcus has a point. We used to be mighty. Our forefathers used to hold..." His eyes looked past Yuri's shoulder. "The wars came. Our ancestors held on to these lands, which border the Plains, refusing to give them up and allow the Plains to be invaded. Our enemies came and went, yet our ancestors held these lands at the price of lives lost. With each war, we grew lesser. We retreated closer to the Plains themselves. When the Empire came to conquer us, we did the one thing we knew that would let us keep these lands and keep the Empire from spreading into the Plains.

"We surrendered and made our only condition to becoming subjects of the Empire that the Empire not spread into the plains surrounding the Mountain. The Treaty was signed and enforced. The Plains were safe." His mouth drew down. "Until Hale came." He shook his head. "That bastard was scouting into the Plains from day one. Always looking for an advantage over every other human being alive. God, how vainglorious that man is!"

He focused on Yuri's eyes again. "We tried to stop him. We tried to reason with him, but he had only smiles and tactful words for us. Empty promises that he would go back on, the moment he closed the doors behind us. Five years ago, when the Trickster delivered the prophecy about the Saviors to us, we started openly advocating for the leaders of the Empire to punish Hale for venturing into the Plains.

"The Empire decided that it no longer needed to adhere to the Treaty. They allowed him free reign over the region. My God, they must have given him full military autonomy after he destroyed Kathaln. It's the only way he could vanish with his men and not be immediately removed from authority." He smacked his fist against his palm. "I wish we knew where he was! Him and his army!"

"You think he went to Lucifer's prison?"

The elder nodded in earnest. "I think he might have. He can't release Lucifer, but I got the impression that there was more hidden under the Mountain than just him."

"What gave you that impression?"

He shrugged. "Well, the dreams. The Trickster spoke to us through our dreams. He was very verbal and explicit, repeating himself over and over again, until we got the message, but he also showed us images. One of the images was that the Fallen had built a great city atop Lucifer's prison. A great city full of things they left behind. Things that might be dangerous in the wrong hands."

"So, Lucifer is still in his prison and his fallen angels have abandoned him?"

The elder looked long and hard into Yuri's eyes. "Savior, are you overwhelmed by everything I have told you? You need not be. The Trickster said that you were given power and that your power would grow as you went from one world to the next. He said that, with time and effort, you could grow powerful enough to defeat the Fallen on your own. He advised allying with other warriors of God, both to increase your chances of success and to save time.

"He told us to warn you against wasting time. The Fallen will soon learn that you have survived the banishment. They will send hunters after you."

"You mean, Lucifer's hounds?"

The elder frowned. "No. No, Lucifer is on our side."

Yuri barked out a laugh of disbelief. "The devil? The devil is on our side?"

"Yes," he earnestly said.

"Oh, come on! You gotta be kidding me!"

"No. I am completely serious, Savior."

Yuri spread his arms. "Wouldn't the devil want to see all of creation destroyed?"

"He is, first and foremost, the archangel of disobedience. Once God left the Earth to the care of humans, he could only disobey His plan. But, in doing so, he played his ordained part in the plan. He was the force which drove mankind onwards, as well as the tempter that tried to lead men astray. After he fell, he was surrounded by the Fallen and only had his own plan to rebel against, so he did. He disobeyed his own instructions to his following and decided to work at stopping the Fallen. The Trickster and he are working to keep Heaven safe, each in his own way."

Yuri chuckled.

"Didn't the Prophet in your Overworld tell you any of these things before sending you here?"

Yuri shrugged. "He merely said to be myself."

"Are you not taking this seriously, Savior?"

"Oh, I am. I am." Yuri puffed out his cheeks to stop himself grinning. "I assure you that I am."

The elder's face turned red. He looked nonplussed. "Perhaps, I have misspoken on some aspect of our religion. I can assure you that everything I told you is the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth."

"And yet, you call your source of this truth the Trickster."

The elder looked offended. "It's what he calls himself. He keeps his real identity hidden."

"And you didn't think that made him somewhat untrustworthy?"

"No. He lies, but only because he must in order to survive amongst the Fallen. He chose us, our people, as the one group he could entrust with the truth."

"Bully for you."

The elder rocked on his pillow before rising, stiffly. He groaned as he drew himself up to his full height. He glared down at Yuri. "You are overwhelmed by the revelations and the terrible responsibility that has been thrust upon you. You need time to think on what I have told you. I shall leave you alone with your thoughts. No one shall disturb you in this tent." He moved to the entrance flap with a stiff gait.

"Hey, wait," Yuri said. The elder paused. "I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright, Savior. I wept when the Trickster sent the dreams to me. Most of us did and we were all elders, experienced in the matters of the world. I can only imagine what it is like for you, upon whose shoulders rests the fate of all the worlds. You are very young and inexperienced. Know that I am here to give you guidance when you need it."

The elder's patronizing tone reminded Yuri of Colonel Ali. "Gee, thanks," he said. They stared at each other for a long moment. "What's your name, anyway?"

The elder turned pale. His jaw dropped. "I, I, I must apologize, Savior, I... I'm so used to people knowing my name..." He cleared his throat and turned to face Yuri. He stood as straight as he could and formally bowed. "My name is Elmer Bartlett and I am an elder of-"

Yuri burst into laughter. The elder angled his face to stare at him in shock. Yuri tipped over. He held his belly and rolled from side to side as he laughed. When he raised his head to look at the elder again, the man was standing upright and glaring down at him.

"When my parents named me Elmer, they did not know I would become an elder one day. You see, my family had been poor and I worked my way up to my position." He cocked his head. "Hard work, self-sacrifice and integrity are what made me the man I am today. You should-"

Yuri couldn't stop another bout of laughter.

The insulted elder sniffed angrily and ducked out of the tent.

Yuri wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes.Man, it's good to laugh like that, every once in a while. Once he got his breathing under control, he sat up. He cleared his throat. "Elder Elmer," he softly said. It cracked him up, all over again. "Oh, man. Who comes up with this crap?"

Cara stuck her head inside the tent. "Savior?"

"Yeah?"

"May I enter?"

"Sure."

She shuffled in, her head down and her back hunched. She didn't need to bend down. The tent was tall enough for her to stand upright inside it. She knelt atop the pillow. Her cloak fell open, revealing the shift underneath.

Yuri averted his eyes from her bare knees.

"You did not tell my father about my talent," she quietly said. It wasn't a question. Yuri shook his head all the same. "Thank you."

"Why don't you want me to tell your dad that I've made you into a mage? I'm sure he'd be proud."

Her eyes bulged out. "Oh, no, Savior. I-"

Yuri held up a hand. "Please, call me Yuri. This Savior stuff is already getting old."

"Yes...Yuri." She cleared her throat. "I... You didn't... I was born with the talent to weave runes into spells. I've had it all my life, though I only became aware of it some years ago."

"Oh, so it wasn't..." He gestured between their pentagrams.

"No."

"But you don't want anyone to know about it?" She nodded. "Why not?"

She seemed taken aback by the question. "Because women aren't allowed to work magic."

"Really?"

Her eyes darted around. "Are...are you making fun of me?"

"What?"

"Oh, forgive me, Savior, I, I mean no offense, I, I only..."

Yuri reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, then quickly pulled it back. The girl's legs were bare from the knee down, as were her arms below the elbow. This was a game, but he still cared about what was proper. "Women aren't allowed to use magic?" She shook her head no. "Why not?"

"Well...they say that it's because we can't control our emotions. That we're dangerous if we start to weave runes."

Yuri rolled his eyes. This reminded him of the bull the Zibar women had to go through whenever they wanted to leave the enclave. They had to be covered from head to toe, lest they inspire impure thoughts in the men. He looked into the girl's eyes. "And what about today? Why didn't you use your magic to stop the brutes today? To save yourself, at least?"

The girl winced and held up imploring hands. "Not so loud, please, Savior." He gave her a look. "Uh, I mean, Yuri."

"My question still stands. Why didn't you turn the guys attacking you into frogs, or something?"

"I don't actually know how to cast magic. I was never taught. I only know a few runes I learned by accident."

Yuri chuckled. "By accident?"

She blushed. "I may have...snuck a few peeks at some books I'm not allowed to read. The runes I've managed to learn allow me to perform some minor spells, like light up a dark room, and that's about it."

Hearing her words made Yuri realize that the tent was getting dark. He rose and went outside to look up at the sky. It was starting to get pink above the western horizon. How long had he been in the game already? An hour and a half? Two? More? Grandma was surely going to want to watch him pray Fajr. If she didn't try and make him go to the mosque to pray there. He had a busy day ahead of him. It was time to log out and get to it.

He took one last look around the clearing and then decided that he would respect the realism of the game by not vanishing in front of all the NPCs. He turned to go back inside the tent and nearly collided with Cara, who was standing in the entrance flap.

"Pardon," she said and backed inside.

He went in and said, "Game menu." His menu opened up right in front of him.

Cara gasped, her eyes darting everywhere to take it all in. "It's you!"

"Yes." He looked at the options button and willed it to toggle.

"What does this mean?"

"Don't worry about it." He reached out and tapped the log out button.

Instead of a prompt that asked him if he was sure he wanted to quit, this appeared:

Would you like to take any of your Bonded with you?

Yes

No

He rolled his eyes at the prompt. "Har, har, guys." He knew that if he was to say yes, he'd never hear the end of it from the guys at work. He could just imagine their mock sympathy. "Oh, poor Yuri's so lonely, he wanted to bring a simulated woman home with him to introduce her to mommy and daddy."

"Take me where," Cara asked, her eyes wide. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be back before you can blink." He reached out and pounded the "No" option.

Just like every time he logged off the Dream Drive, he found himself in utter, silent darkness, with no sensation of his body.

After a moment, a numb feeling of his limbs started creeping up on him, like they had fallen asleep and were only waking up now, but without the pinpricks and needles. He drew a deep breath as soon as he could feel his real body again. He nearly coughed. The unmistakable aroma of smoke had slid up his nostrils. He could feel pinpricks from all up and down his back, as if he wasn't lying on his bed, but on a bed of nails.

He reached up and pulled his helmet off his head. He blinked at the sight that greeted him. His bedroom was completely torn apart. His wardrobes' doors had been nearly taken off their hinges. His clothes were tossed out onto the floor. His desk was tipped over. The box containing his collection of microdrives was broken. As he leaned over to get a closer look, he felt fresh pinpricks in his hand.

He looked and saw what was stinging his back. His mattress had been slashed open, the springs exposed in many places. The foam was all over the floor, mixed with the microdrives, most of which had been stomped into dust. He growled and endured several other pinpricks as he got out of bed. He squinted and turned his back to the windows. The rising sun was shining in, obscuring the outside world with its intensity. The pricking sensations vanished, but he inspected his hand all the same. There wasn't a mark on it.

Thank God for that, he thought.

He found his combat boots and put them on, fearful of the floor that was covered in jagged bits of plastic. He took another look at the mayhem in his room. The bed caught his interest. He couldn't make sense of why someone had lifted him off it, slashed it to bits, and then put him back down on top of it. His rig was on the floor next to the door. The door itself was ajar. He set his helmet down on the rig and pulled the door open.

His mind refused to acknowledge what his eyes saw.

Malia was lying atop the dining table. Her head was turned towards Yuri's door. Her lifeless eyes weren't meeting Yuri's gaze. The expression on her face was one of supreme sadness. Her throat was slit from ear to ear. A large puddle of blood was curdled around her. Another puddle was on the floor, beside the table.

He stood there staring until the sounds of distant gunfire startled him. He shuffled into the living room. It was just as devastated as his room. He froze again when he saw his parents' corpses. They were lying next to one another, in front of the door to their room. They had been shot in the head.

Yuri's feet brought him to the door of his grandmother's room. She was lying in bed, her throat slit like Malia's. When Yuri turned to look at his sister again, the numbness started giving way to rage.

Her legs had been spread and another, smaller pool of blood was between them. Yuri blinked the tears from his eyes as he averted his gaze. He couldn't look anymore. He didn't want to look. That wasn't his little sister. His little sister was a cheerful, pretty girl who liked to dance when she thought no one else was home.

The sounds of automatic gunfire came from somewhere close by. Yuri shuffled through the front doorway. The door sported a huge crack along its length and lay next to the frame.

Yuri kicked aside the debris that was covering the balcony with each step he took. He came to the railing and looked out. The street under his balcony was littered with corpses. Pale curtains of smoke were blown here and there by the early morning breeze. An acrid stench was getting into Yuri's nostrils, along with a faint undertone of charred flesh.

He saw a group of soldiers turn the corner onto his street. He raised his hand and was about to call for their help, when more shots came from directly below him. He flinched and took cover behind the balcony wall. When he peeked out, he saw that the soldiers had not reacted to the shots. He frowned. If their drill sergeants could see them standing there like a bunch of idiots, while some maniac was shooting up the place, they'd literally rip their skins off their stupid faces.

A figure ran out into the street. It was Mr. Cillick. He was hauling ass away from their building. Yuri opened his mouth to call out to the soldiers to come protect his neighbor from the shooter, when another burst of gunfire assaulted his ears. He looked down at the street. Mr. Cillick was on the tarmac. Little red holes appeared on the back of his white shirt, like polka dots. They quickly grew.

Three members of the Islamic Militia sauntered over to Mr. Cillick. One kicked the fallen man in the ribs. Another drew his sidearm and shot Mr. Cillick in the back of the head, twice.

Yuri looked up at the soldiers. One of them clapped politely. The rest opened a pack of cigarettes and started smoking. The Militiamen joined them. They chatted cheerfully as they blew rings of bluish smoke in the early hours of the morning. Distant, sporadic gunfire provided the perfect soundtrack for this unreal picture.

Suddenly, Yuri's head felt like it was pinched by a giant crab. A loud pop reverberated through the walls and floor. His limbs turned into wet noodles and he collapsed.

An Isis alert showed up in his vision.

You've taken a critical hit. You're stunned for three seconds.

Yuri blinked in surprise. A stickman drawing was in his field of vision, right under his status bar. Yellow lines were coming from its sides. A counter was superimposed on it, already ticking down from three to two.

"See," a voice said, in fluent Zibar, "Itold you there was a fucking Zibar soldier in this building."

"Cursed son of an infidel whore," another voice muttered in fluent Zibar. "Why did they even let him join?"

"Never mind, let's go see what he's got in that heavy case of his."

The counter reached zero and the drawing vanished. Yuri felt his strength enter his limbs again. He rolled upright and smoothly segued into a mad dash down the balcony towards the duo. One was wearing an Army uniform; the other the white robes and turban of the Islamic Militia. Both were staring at him in shock. Neither lifted his assault rifle to try and defend himself.