Chapter 2

Username: The Shadow, Level: 367

Job: Armageddon Bringer (Final Level Cleric)

I had no chance of surviving whatsoever. Therefore, I ran.

“Wait,” he said blandly, appearing in front of me before I could even turn. I am not going to PK you. And even if I did, I would probably die from your superiority.”

“You’re joking, right?” I said, chuckling.

“No, sadly,” he laughed.

I replied with a smirk and a, “thank you for your help earlier.”

“There was no problem at all, don’t worry! We Beta players are still attached to the ‘old ways.’”

“I know, and I respect Beta players particularly for that reason itself,” I complimented.

“Thank you, however I am only doing my job,” he said , slightly flushed in embarrassment.

“Oh, I see. You’re a PKK, I take it?”

“Very much so…”

So we spoke with one another for quite a while, speaking about our favorite bands to our most loved and hated mineral(s)… ironically, we both had one. After that, I ventured to ask so far as my own condition.

“Coma?” he asked, “What do you want to know about them?”

“Are there people who go into comas simply by playing this game?”

He though for the right answer for a little while, using the action of stroking his chin. “I heard that previous MMORPG’s had some coma victims, but it wasn’t supposed as serious; just too much gaming had forced the nervous system to shut down.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” I replied, using my own experience. “I think it’s something else.”

“But what could be the cause?” he whispered to himself. I didn’t know if it was the right time to tell him about my ailment. It was just too early at that time. “If you ever find out anything, don’t hesitate to contact me. I would love to be of help.” He gave me his player info, which I could use to contact him later and even form a party with him if I so wished. I just met him, however. It would take me a while to truly trust him.

I ran from the level 125 beast, sending it gales from my wings. However, it was wind tolerant so I made spikes of earth impale the monster from the ground up. I was still running and my stamina was beginning to run out. Once it did, I walked as fast as I could away from the beasts.

Level 82!

It seems as if it had died from the, obvious, deadly poison I had administered to the stalagmite.

I then collapsed. I was exhausted. I could only take some strain until I tired out and came to my Limit. Damn, I thought. How long is this going to take? It has been 4 months and I’m only level 82. At this rate I am never going to reach my destinatio—! I was interrupted by a crystalline sphere. Its radiance sparkled in the night sky. Then it exploded and I immediately recognized the person that emanated from the sphere. A.I.…

“Sun! Moon!” I yelled, as they walked passed me. “Hey! Wait!”

“You’re taking too long. We’re going to find someone else to take your place, Fianne.” I smiled and then grimaced, finally I would be healed, and my comatose would pass. However, if they were to find someone else, then that selected person would have to become comatose as well. I couldn’t do that. Furthermore, there was no perfect guarantee that I would be out of my coma. I could instead be killed terribly by them instead. My first worry was the fact that someone else would become “coma’d”. Second, I would be killed. Third… I was going to be replaced? No! Never! I am the best! I went to stop them.

“Please! Stop! Give me one more chance! I swear, I won’t fail you. I’ll train night and day, continuously. Please! Just don’t hurt anyone else.”

“Fine, we’ll give you two days to have the attributes to use the staff we gave you. But, if you fail… You know the consequences, Fianne. Till then, Fia—“

“Wait!”

“—nne, Adieu.” Sun said, ignoring my previous comment.

With that, Sun and Moon disappeared and I watched with a gaping, open mouth. Two days? That was morbidly impossible!

The only way I figured I could gain a lot of experience quickly was the arena. I did not wish to PK, but this was an agreement between both fighters. Just one problem: there were several people versus one (me). However, it was better for me, more room for me to move and heal, while they struggled through their strategies. There was the “gang-up” fear too, but I left that for a later time.

“Sandstorm,” one said against me, while another said, “fire storm,” creating a barrage of glass that I dodged by reflecting the attack back.

“What,” many said while the spectators all looked bewildered and asked each other if such an attack was even possible.

I finished off with a spark nova, sending jolts of electricity through each of my six opponents. They each fell as I silently walked away to prepare for my next battle.

“What nerve do you have, Seraph?” my previous opponents said in the waiting room. “You’re only level 149 and each of us are level 200. Our guild won’t spare you, WS (an abbreviation now used for Winged Seraph)… we won’t.”

“Just one more battle, Blood Guild… just one more….”