Play Testers Wanted Pt. 19

"...do it again," a man demanded. "These results don't make any fucking sense."

"This is running against next month's budget," a second man argued. "We have discovered new particles. Face it, Jim, something profound is happening."

"I cannot accept that," Jim growled. "This goes against everything we have proven over the last century." Flashes of silvery-green light lit a long tunnel filled with machinery.

"The dragon lines are waking up," the second man stated. "My grandfather talked about them since I was a kid."

The dream fragmented and reassembled itself. I stood amid a war-torn town or village. It spread out in undulating hills that showed signs of recent conflict and the use of heavy weapons. Despite this, the citizens went about their lives plucking shrapnel from crops as they harvested them. Fires still burned where incendiaries consumed wooden structures and homes. The villagers gathered the crackling wood to build cooking fires and raise a central bonfire to stay warm as the sun vanished behind the hills. The population seemed to be either Slavic, Asian, or a blend of the two. I guessed this was somewhere along the Russian/Chinese border.

As the people gathered around the bonfire, women dispersed food from pots cooking over the smaller fires, and a grim silence set in until a child spoke. He asked why the bad people came and did this. An older woman responded, and the other adults nodded in agreement with her words.

"Little one, war comes to our village when the greater powers seek to destroy each other, but instead only harm the least among us," she said, her voice clear and strong. "Jealousy, greed, and hate fuel ambition by men too weak to fight themselves. Instead of armor, they wear fine suits, drive valuable cars, and are soulless parasites. They enslave men and women better than themselves to feel strong. In the end, they die, whimpering cowards, as death claims them just as it has so many this day. Pity them these husks of humanity, for they are the living dead."

The dream crumbled, and I floated in darkness. I thought I heard giggling from far off in the distance. There were two female voices.

"...sure about this?" The first woman asked.

"MMMHHMMM," the second moaned.

"It is impolite to speak with your mouth full of cock," the first chastised the second. "He is going to wake up. What then?"

"Hush, just keep doing what you are doing," the second encouraged the first. "It will be a great first impression."

I woke up still prone on the crown of the pyramid, but I wasn't alone. A woman stood above me, her feet straddling my head as she masturbated above me. She must be the first woman I overheard while I drifted awake. I lifted my head enough to find out who was going down on me. Nenetl was eagerly licking, stroking, and sucking my erection.

"Hey, up here, big guy," the first woman urged. "I am not doing this for my health."

"Left-handed god, meet Ekaterina Fong," Nenetl introduced us. "Cambodian by birth, American by chance, and a fellatioist of great skill. Instructed by concubines of the far east, indoctrinated into the Order of the Amaranth, and rescued by me from slavers when their ship ran aground."

"I hear you like being a bitch," Ekaterina purred. "Suck on this," she continued as she offered me the big toe of her right foot. So, Nenetl brought a friend, how lovely. I took her toe into my mouth and teased her even as she continued to finger her slit and rub her clit above me. "He has done this before."

"MMMHMMM," Nenetl moaned as her head bobbed up and down. Ekaterina eventually squatted over my head and gave me the opportunity of eating her out. Soon I had the privilege of cupping her cheeks and burying my tongue inside of her. Fong sat on my chest when her legs would no longer support her and ground her pussy against my face.

"So damn enthusiastic," Ekaterina gasped just before climaxing. Nenetl had not been idle. The moment her friend had her first orgasm, Nenetl impaled her body on my cock. "Selfish slut, I guess we will have to take turns. I guess I can wait while I catch my breath."

'Initiate double dragon technique,' I sent via my HUD. The Bright Eyes interface responded after a short delay.

'Power set located and migrated to this system,' the sexy female voice whispered in my head. 'Configuring matching specimen and arousal state, hold onto your hat.'

Nenetl raised her hips until just the tip remained inside of her. "Look at this," she cried out just as the second erection appeared. Nenetl's hips drove downward hard. The lower cock slid into her ass like a battering ram and sent her over the edge. I gauged her orgasm at a ten plus just from her expression of surprise alone. Ekaterina couldn't see what had happened and waited for the power of speech to return to her savior. Nenetl clung to her friend as she spat out the words one at a time.

"Second dick, in my ass, he tricked us," Nenetl whimpered.

"Guys don't have two cocks," Ekaterina declared. "Oh, he is the Left-Handed God!"

Nenetl found the courage to move and climaxed once more before reluctantly surrendering me to Ekaterina. The one-time slave never hesitated. She got onto her hands and knees, thrust her backside skyward, and offered up herself as a sacrifice. I accepted eagerly. We made love until near dawn. I was exhausted, and the ladies were satisfied beyond expectations. Youtl woke me for the noon meal. One of the women had placed a blanket over me while I slept.

"You should be ashamed Left-Handed God. You kept the entire village awake with your exploits," Youtl chastised me. "Even the jungle complained about your lewd behavior, have you no disgrace?"

"Nope. I hunt the black jaguar today. After a fine meal, I am going to leave your village. I doubt I will return one way or the other. Thank you for your hospitality," I replied.

"A fine meal? We are a simple folk Left-Handed God. Your words confuse me," Youtl replied.

"Kid, after having the company of two fine ladies, any meal will taste like a feast," I said, and he smiled and walked off. Nenetl arrived and showed me where I could bathe undisturbed. The artisans created the artificial waterfall at the same time as the pyramid, she explained. The builders redirected a stream towards the gouge in the stonework, and it served as a communal bathing area and a source of freshwater. While the water pounded my aching muscles, Nenetl answered my questions about her friend.

"Ekaterina was rescued by an American diplomat visiting Cambodia. She was about ten years old at the time. The man adopted her, got her citizenship, educated, and groomed her for what looked like a bright and promising future. It was all an elaborate lie," Nenetl spat out bitterly.

"So, this guy was an ambassador?" I asked.

"Yes, he worked to keep Cambodia towards a path to perpetual democracy. I can only assume the higher-ups were unaware of his side business. He, and others, traveled that part of the world finding vulnerable girls, coaching them, and then when they were old enough, dumped them into the hands of slavers where their real training began. You were the first man she has slept with of her own accord. It is a long slow healing process," Nenetl said.

"That is beyond fucked up," I replied. "I am glad I could help." Nenetl began laughing. "Hey, I am serious here." Her laughter only intensified.

I dried off, dressed, and joined the entire village for lunch. Once the meal was over, I announced my plans to hunt down and kill the black jaguar. The utter lack of enthusiasm surprised me. I took up the metal staff and headed into the cloudy jungle. I had barely breached the perpetual fog when my clothes clung tight as the moisture soaked me to the bone. The bitter cold returned, and it was as if my time with the village had been a dream. It didn't take long for me to realize I was utterly lost. The perpetual fog made navigation impossible. This time, however, I had the staff. It allowed me to keep from walking into trees or the occasional stony outcropping. The jungle sounds were comforting as I searched for paw prints or any sign of the black jaguar. I assumed he would be proportionally upscaled than your typical jungle cat.

The mist was beginning to thin when I spied large regular shapes ahead of me. A second temple rose out of the fog, and it halted me in my tracks. While the quarried stone was the same as that of the step pyramid, the architecture differed significantly. It felt older and yet more complex than what I had seen so far. Linear vertical gouges ran the length of what remained of an impressive archway. The span between the two pillars had fallen ages ago. I walked to the spot between them and knelt. I used my fingers to see if anything remained of the arch or its decorations. The spongy layers of mud gave way to a hard, unyielding surface.

Guided by the contours of the carving, I revealed the roaring feline face that had greeted visitors centuries ago. It could have been a jaguar, but the style reminded me of Angkor Wat more than central American culture. The image had clear distinctive stripes like that of a tiger. Was there a connection between the jaguar cult and the tiger worshippers? I stood and passed beyond the arch to the small courtyard that showed signs of a wall surrounding the temple entrance. It, too, had fallen to the ravages of time and the jungle. I moved slowly, making sure I didn't step over signs of the black jaguar. If I were a cursed immortal animal, this is where I would call home. A second tumbled-down arch marked the entrance to the underground shrine. I took out the flashlight and used it to light my way. The steps had carvings with numerical and geometric imagery. Nine seemed to be the dominant number with enneagrams and variations and combinations of triangles. Impressive-looking emeralds decorated quite a few of the carvings. The greedy side of my personality begged to pry one of them loose. However, the gamer side won out, fearing triggering a trap by doing so.

Twenty-seven steps later, I reached the bottom of the stairwell. The feline motif manifested in statues, bas reliefs, mosaics, and a waterfall with a matching pool. The open-mouthed tiger let the cleverly designed flow of water gush from its maw and into the moon crested basin. The sparkle of star-kissed emeralds glinted from the tiger's eyes, Margot Robbie's eyes. I expected at any moment for the thing to come to life and turn into the famed actress. Why did she pop into my head all of a sudden? In the scene from the movie Terminal, the close-up of her eyes while Margot was in the confessional. Green eyes, a cat's eyes, glowing in the dark. My kryptonite for sure, I laughed as I examined the rest of the holy of holies.

A reclined domestic loomed above everything, lazily observing the passage of time petrified and protected from dissolution by its diorite body. The skill of the sculptor was masterful and gave a realism I had not seen in years. The lion hid among a group of standing stones, invisible until viewed from the perfect angle. The cougar held the bison by the neck as it used its weight to tear out its throat and sever its spine in one savage motion: nine felines and nine aspects of the Nine Fold Goddess. I stood before her perfection, entranced by her divinity. The black leopard roared its challenge from the shadows.

"I hate to do this, but there must be an end to this tragedy," I declared as I brought the staff into a defensive position. "Nine Fold Goddess, forgive me." As dark as an albino is pale, the hunter confronted me in his lair. He was a killing machine perfected over centuries of hunting humans and animals alike. Melanistic and sleek his muscles rippled beneath ebony flesh, we circled one another.

Friendly bright blue letters appeared in my field of vision, roll for initiative. A holographic twenty-sided die appeared, and I touched it to trigger a random number creation. That was the first actual gaming mechanic I had seen since arriving here. I won the challenge against the black jaguar and had a binary option, an offensive action, or a defensive one. A defensive approach seemed the best tactic at this point. The Bright Eyes offered me a simple protective sequence or a complex block and riposte solution, and I went with the latter.

The jaguar made a tentative swipe with his claw, and I batted it to the side. Angered, he crouched, and just as he sprung, I torqued my body and brought the full impact of the staff to the side of the jaguar's skull. While it flung him off course, the strike did little more than slightly daze him. I cursed as the black recovered way too quickly and was more cautious this time. The odd thing was I felt the staff pull in my grasp when it struck my target. I had to test a theory. A momentary lapse of concentration is all it took for the black to vanish.

This conflict was not going to be a stand-up fight. Oh, no, nature was not fair or straightforward. The strong survive any way they could. I tracked the beast and let the staff help guide me deeper into its den. A series of interconnected chambers formed the bulk of the creature's habitat. The carvings of the rooms, while similar in theme, were from far-flung locations across the globe. So many cultures and their architecture were on display. To illuminate these places were metal grates installed in the ceiling above. They dotted the forest floor, and while the sunlight held out, I could navigate. The shadows created by the shafts of light also gave my foe plenty of places to hide and ambush me.

I entered a space dedicated to the tiger, and the art style must be from India. I admired the loving detail of the walls and narrow metallic panels. Faded paintings covered the vertical frames and displayed tigers hunting primitive humans, no wonder we worship them. While I navigated the area, the story told by the carvings spoke of a massive man-eating tiger. In life, the animal must have been thirty feet from nose to the tip of its tail. The beast got away at the end, never to trouble the world of man again. My second lapse of concentration nearly cost me my life. If it hadn't been for the staff's slight tug, the jaguar would have decapitated me. I dropped and rolled under the razor-sharp claw. The bloody line across my back stung like a bitch, but better that than instant death.

Red letters appeared and informed me that I failed my perception check. I was allowed a chance to detect my hidden enemy and botched a second time. The second attack did not glance across my back. No, the claw struck my chest and cut deep. I had enough strength to hold onto the staff as it latched onto the black jaguar. The magnet-like connection between staff and jewel was undeniable now. My body fell forward more out of weakness than tactics. I pinned the beast beneath me as the link between the gem and rod intensified. The two would be one, no matter what might stand between them. In this case, the internal organs, ribs, and outer skin of the big cat. In my weakened state, the weapon became immovable. I clung to it desperately and pulled upward with what little strength I had.

"Gods forgive me," I wailed as the jaguar screamed in pain. It shrieked as the gem cut its way through the bone, muscle, and connective tissue. I wept openly as it tried and failed to flee. Tears clouded my vision, and I used my body weight and leaned backward. The cries of agony haunted me afterward as, with one last savage yank, I tore staff and jewel from the animal's corpse. I rolled off the body as I bled out. The reunited device clutched in my hands as my life ebbed away. "I am so fucking sorry," I sobbed. "If there were any other way. I don't deserve forgiveness." A golden radiance erupted from the stone, blinding me as I slipped away. My eyes closed, and I surrendered. I did not possess the strength to fight on. Let it end like this.

I awoke pain-free and still clinging to the shaman's walking stick. I was naked under the bough of an ancient tree. The treehouse smelled of a dozen flowers, herbs, and fruits. I sat up as the woman nearby poured tea. The porcelain cups were Chinese, the metal teapot was silver and hailed from Europe somewhere. She was dressed in a traditional Japanese kimono though her robe and long black hair obscured her features and build.

"Nine Fold Goddess, I assume," I muttered weakly.

"Move slowly," she urged. "You have been mostly dead for hours. If not for that thing's regenerative powers, surely you would have perished." I began crying once more, and her head cocked to the side, and a flash of emerald eyeshine startled me. "For whom do you weep so?"

"A poor beast that suffered at my hands and died," I admitted. "If you are here to punish me, I accept your decision."

"I do not offer my best tea to monsters or murderers," the Nine Fold Goddess replied. "Besides, you did him a great favor. Your tenacity removed the curse binding him and the village together. The same healing light that preserved you also restored my black jaguar to life. He hunts as I meant him to and is free of the memories from long centuries of conflict." I let out a laugh and cried for joy this time. The guilt lifted from my heart, and I sniffed as she regarded with her eerie emerald gaze. "You are not the Left-Handed God I once knew. Yet you carry his agency all about you."

"You mean Nick," I replied. At the mention of his name, she hissed violently. "Most females found him charming."

"A serpent can be beguiling, but its venom is still just as lethal," she said, her voice cold and deadly.

"So much animosity," I noticed, and her open palm struck the table holding the tea service and cups. The sound of whispering voices filled the air about us.

"Tell him," they urged. "It is time he knew."

The Nine Fold Goddess stood and, with a gesture, summoned a fan from the folds of her sleeve. She brought her hand down with a flourish to open it. Her face became stern as she slashed the air with a horizontal pass.

"The Anunnaki created us, as they seeded life on so many worlds for a billion years. We were their watchdogs to observe how their creations rose to sentience. The outcome was never inevitable, and we often wagered to see which lifeform became self-aware or dominant. I placed my confidence that the cephalopods would achieve ascendence. While there is time, there is hope. Your species is self-destructive and violent, and it is also kind and selfless as well. Then along came the Shaw. A singularly powerful figure who could evolve your race or destroy it. We uncovered his plans and were horrified at what he was slowly putting into place. If not stopped, billions of lives would be lost."

"You killed my father!" I screamed.

"Yes, millions died that day," the Nine Fold Goddess admitted. "To ensure that billions might live."

I wanted to curse her out--the urge to strike her was overwhelming. Something deep inside held me back. Son, no one is guaranteed tomorrow. Today, right, this very moment is what is precious, not what might have been, but the here and now. My father's voice haunted me from oblivion. The pain of loss returned newly born as if the intervening years had never passed. I remembered the accident before I went unconscious. The truck sideswiped the car and killed my dad in an instant. Even as I reached out for him, it all went black. No time for goodbyes, no time to cry, just the abyss that had gripped the entire human race. The event had robbed everyone of their wakefulness, and millions died, including Nick. He had been the target, and millions paid the price to kill him.

"Nick insulated himself with the AI's and bodyguards," she explained. "It took a world-changing effort to remove him from the equations. Even then, well, he still tried to resurrect himself through you. The cloning attempts, the genetic engineering, and the damn BMI to grant him access. The technology needed only perfecting to steal your body and assert himself as the true heir to Numenor."