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Jaidia snuck away from the crowd, and called Azad, who reported that Vanore
had not woken up in her regular substrate yet, following her death in the
simulation, but that’s to be expected. It takes time for a consciousness to
fully return and compile safely. Safeguards are in place to protect them
from losing memories, or any defining personality traits. Of course,
Reagan’s gun makes that more complicated, but he’s sure that he didn’t just
straight up murder the woman permanently. Figuring out how to transmit the
decoherence signal across backup consciousness streams has been the most
difficult part of his special gun’s development process. The technology is
still based on the earliest of research into the field of mind transference,
which was pioneered by scientists who were trying to protect people from a
weapon such as this. It’s baked into the design, and for good reason.
Three of them are in the castle now, where King Arthur has been ruling only
as a figurehead for the last few years. Malika stayed behind, both to make
sure that Morgana is indeed dead, and also to ask the townsfolk some
questions about this whole situation. Why was Vanore splitting between two
immersion domes, and why was she playing the same character? The locals
wouldn’t be able to answer those questions specifically, even the ones who
are visitors and not NPCs, but their answers to other questions might hold
clues to understanding her motivations. Even though it appears that she has
been defeated, they may need to prepare for future complications that she
has set in motion.
Arthur is sitting on his throne, resting his temple against his fingers, his
heavy crown askew upon his head. He doesn’t even react to them. He is
guarded by no one.
The three of them kneel before him out of respect for the game. “King
Arthur, Chief Dragon, Lord of Camelot, High King of the Britons,” Mandica
begins. “We come in humble service, hoping to free your love from the high
tower. Do you protest?”
Arthur scoffs, almost menacingly. “Many have tried, all have died.”
“Forgive us, sire. We would not dare to disrespect your loyal subjects, but
we come with experience that others have not possessed. We will defeat the
Bane of Loegria. He will not be the first monster that we have vanquished.
He will not even be the first to die at our hands today.”
He chuckles now. “I have been apprised of your exploits at the tiltyard.
Morgana has died before, and returned. She shall return again.”
“Not this time, sire,” Mandica goes on. “Please, we wish to continue our
quest for Fair Guinevere. Is there anything you can tell us of what we are
up against?”
“The monster is but a whisper,” Arthur explains. “He has only been heard,
his mighty sword clanging against the steel of my knights. He hides behind a
magical wall of green. Those who pass through suffer terrible pain. Any who
survive, never return.”
“Sounds like a plasmic hologram,” Reagan says to the ladies. Arthur hears it
as well, but has no frame of reference for it. “I can turn it off once we
get closer.”
Mandica lowers her head deeper. “We will not fail you, Your Highness. We
thank you for the honor.” She stands. “For Camelot and Loegria!”
The other two stand as well, following her lead. “For Camelot and Loegria!”
They walk up the many steps to the top of the high tower. Dust and cobwebs
multiply along the way. No one wants to come near this area, even though,
according to a few castle staff, the Bane never crossed through the barrier.
You have to go looking for trouble in order to find it. Unless you have
already pissed off the Empress, Morgana. She occasionally sends her enemies
through the wall for apparent execution.
They reach the wall. Reagan takes out his scanner, and waves it around for
only a second. “Yeah, definitely a plasmic barrier, coupled with a
holographic illusion. And...here it goes.” The green wall flickers off.
Behind it is the real obstacle. The plasma is transparent, but still
visible, like glass. At a full meter, it’s incredibly thick. Most plasma
passageways are measured in centimeters, because you just don’t need much to
prevent unauthorized entry, or atmosphere leakage. “This really shouldn’t be
here. The powersource would have to be enormous. Plasma has to be
replenished regularly for maintenance. I thought I could bring it down, but
the projectors are on the other side, and the command signals from my
equipment will not be able to penetrate the field.”
“Well, obviously, it can be crossed. If there’s fighting happening on the
other side, then pain is the first trial, not the endgame.” Mandica removes
her medieval garb until she’s down to her Ravensgate Rescuer costume so she
has more freedom of movement.
“You’ll fare better than the knights,” Reagan explains. “They were almost
certainly wearing armor, which microwaved them. The only reason any of them
survived is because they’re androids.” He points. “Just destroy one of those
projectors.”
He’s not entirely right about that. It’s profoundly painful. She screams in
agony as she’s slogging her way through. It takes her several minutes to
make it, and it might have even killed her, because she wakes up on the
floor, and doesn’t know how much time has passed. She can feel her stone
pulsing with energy as it continues to heal her burn wounds. A dark masked
knight is standing in front of her now, between her and the jail cell, and
also the projectors. Nice of him to wait for her to resurrect first.
“We can’t get through!” Jaidia cries. “It’s solid now! I guess it’s one at a
time!”
“I got this,” Mandica responds, not turning back around. She and the Bane
begin to fight. She’s wiry, but he’s a brute, and he’s not going down easy.
Punching him is doing her no good. He doesn’t even falter when she kicks him
in the strawberry basket. She keeps trying, though, only breaking away for a
second at a time to reach for one of the projectors. He always holds her
back. That’s enough. No more playing by their rules. Who cares what this
NPC sees? She releases the nanites from her back, and forms her new wings.
They didn’t even have time to test this model, but they’re glorious. She
swings one forward and knocks the mask off of his face. She is surprised to
see who it is. It’s Mordred. It’s not just some other Mordred. It’s the same
face as her companion from Earth. This has always been about Mandica.
“Vanore, you devious bitch!”
This was a mistake. In anger, he hulks out, except he’s not green. He pounds
his chest and roars at her. He must be composed of nanites too, just like
Morgana. That makes some sense. If she couldn’t defeat him before, she’s
certainly not going to now, though. So she takes a gamble. She pulls out her
watch, finds the right image, and shows it to him. It’s a picture of her
with her Mordred. He recognizes his own face. He sees the love in
their eyes, and begins to weep. He doesn’t understand, but he can fight her
no longer. She punches the projector with her other wing. The plasma
disappears.
Malika runs up to them from the steps, rather out of breath. “Morgana’s
already back! She must have had another body waiting for her in the
simulation.”
“Then we better hurry,” Mandica decides. She turns around, and kicks the
cell door in. On the other side is not some random NPC Guinevere. It’s
Vanore.
