Chapter Thirty-Nine: Too Much Fizz

  “Shadow!” he called.

  She stepped closer, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. Her eyes, filled with questions, bore into him. She crossed her arms, one eyebrow arched in perfect skepticism.

  “Are you alright?” Jace asked, his grin vanishing behind genuine concern.

  She gave a small shrug, her lips pursed. A tilt of her head and a flick of her wrist seemed to say, Are you?

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, though his voice wavered. “Really. We’ll talk more when I get back, okay? I need to meet with Hades about what happened last time I was here.” He realized it must have been a few days ago, in Terra Mythica time.

  She frowned deeper, her eyes narrowing. She pointed at him, then pointed at the ground, as if to say, Stay put.

  Jace chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t stay, Shadow. I need answers.”

  She sighed, the sound silent but visible in the rise and fall of her shoulders. She uncrossed her arms and reached out, placing a hand on his arm. Her grip was firm, her eyes filled with unspoken words.

  “I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry,” he reassured her, squeezing her hand gently.

  She rolled her eyes, giving him a look that clearly said, You always say that.

  “Okay, fair point,” he admitted, his tone lightening. “But this time I mean it.”

  She gave a reluctant smile, a small curve of her lips that warmed his heart. With a final nod, she let him go, her gaze never leaving him as he turned to leave.

  As Jace walked away, he could feel her eyes on his back. He needed answers, and Hades might be the only one who could provide them.

  The corridor was a tableau of chaos and shock. Students dashed frantically, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls, while others stood rooted in place, their faces masks of confusion and fear. Jace maneuvered through the throng, his gaze fixed on the courtyard where the turmoil seemed to converge.

  In one corner, a young woman sobbed uncontrollably, her cries a discordant counterpoint to the general din. Another student sat wide eyed and numb. Nearby, a cluster of students huddled together, whispering urgently, their eyes darting around like frightened rabbits. Others moved with purpose, their expressions hard and determined, as if driven by some internal mission. Many students, however, simply sat around the courtyard, dazed and disoriented.

  Jace spotted Dex, his tall frame hunched in deep conversation with Ell. Dex’s wild brown hair made him stand out even in the pandemonium, while Ell’s sharp eyes scanned the crowd, assessing and calculating. Thistle perched on Dex’s shoulders, his expression a comical mix of boredom and deep concern, like he couldn’t decide which emotion to commit to.

  “Jace!” Alice’s voice cut through the noise as she appeared seemingly out of nowhere, wrapping her arms around him in a bear hug. Her eyes, usually bright and certain, were clouded with worry.

  “What’s going on?” Jace asked, his voice tight.

  “Oh, god. You don’t know.” Alice looked at him, her eyes wide with panic. “Check your menu. Try to log out.”

  Jace did, and a wave of vertigo hit him as if he’d stepped ten paces back from his own head. The logout option wasn’t just disabled or glitchy—it was completely gone. He stood there, trying to process it.

  “Yup, that’s about how I looked,” Dex said, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

  “This has to be a glitch. My brother said system updates used to produce errors all the time. Has anyone reached out to the Administrators?”

  Ell glanced over. “Probably every student here. The admins are all offline. Everyone is offline. We can receive messages from the Grid, but no one can send anything.”

  “We would have warned you if we could,” Thistle said, his voice laden with regret. His eyes were shadowed with dark circles and bloodshot from a sleepless night—or perhaps tears. “We tried.”

  Jace patted him on the back. “Has Theon said anything? Any of the gods?”

  “We’re waiting for something official,” Ell said, frustration clear in her voice. “It’s been almost 24 hours since we lost the logout option, and the Archmage still hasn’t addressed the school. That’s why we’re all here. Supposedly, he will eventually, but so far, none of our gods have given us anything but vague, worthless answers—stuff like ‘the truth will reveal itself when the true question is asked’ and all the usual nonsense. It’s just a load of mysterious bull...”

  Dex quickly covered her mouth. “Best to stay on the gods’ good side for now, Ell. At least until we know how permanent this issue is.”

  “Ow, stop pulling my hair, Thistle!” Dex complained as Thistle tugged on a lock to the side.

  “How else will you know where you should go?” Thistle retorted.

  “I swear... when this is over...” Dex began.

  “I know it’s not the most important thing right now, but are we going to talk about why Thistle is riding Dex like he’s the world’s weirdest backpack?” Jace asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Don’t want to talk about it,” Dex said flatly.

  “We all logged back in yesterday. Thistle showed up in these ridiculous platform shoes that made him eight inches taller. Dex forgot their bet, so now he’s stuck being Thistle’s personal driver for the next few months,” Ell explained, barely suppressing a grin.

  “They were silver, lit up, and had little tanks with goldfish in each one,” Dex said defensively.

  Jace shook his head, a faint smile ghosting across his lips despite the tension.

  He cleared his throat. “Hey, did you guys... uh, experience anything different when you logged in this time?”

  They all looked at each other, a shared unease settling over them.

  Ell’s eyes were dark, her voice barely more than a whisper as she spoke. “It was unbearable, like being torn apart, piece by piece. It was as if the universe itself was trying to take back every molecule from my body.”

  Thistle shivered, his face contorted in anguish. “For me, it was like a relentless series of pops. Each crack felt like it was tearing a new hole in me, one after another.”

  Dex clenched his jaw, his expression pained. “It was like drinking a soda with way too much fizz, only on an unimaginable scale. Followed by a gallon of acid.” His eyes closed briefly as he relived the memory.

  “And we all woke up naked,” Thistle said, raising an eyebrow. “That was weird, right?”

  “Not everyone was in their dorms when they logged out,” Dex continued.

  Jace’s eyes went wide with concern as he looked around.

  Alice immediately flushed a bright red and looked away.

  “Alice and I were in the library when we logged out,” Ell said, seeming nonplussed by it all. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Alice. We weren’t the only ones.” She shrugged.

  “There’s a library?” Dex asked.

  Alice quickly changed the subject, her voice more forceful than necessary. “Whatever. Listen, we need to figure something out. My deity, Harpocrates, the god of Secrets, is giving me pretty strong hints that this is a secret we need to uncover. He won’t tell me anything, but I have a questline for it and everything.”

  She shared the quest.

  Quest Alert

  Something is Awfully Wrong

  The logout function has been removed from all Travelers. But is that the only problem? Glitches often come in threes, my Chosen.

  Investigate and uncover the remaining changes in the world.

  Reward: Variable

  Quest Rank: Gold

  Note: This quest is far above your rank, so do not attempt it alone. As always, I believe in you.

  Jace was startled by Alice’s quest prompt for several reasons. He was beginning to suspect that the System communicated differently with each person. Additionally, his own prompts never included a rank.

  “Gold? Do your quests always come with a rank?” Jace asked.

  Alice nodded, her gaze steady as she interpreted the confusion and irritation flickering across his face. “It’s an ability from my Affinity,” she explained, her voice calm and precise. “I can see which ranks are best suited for quests, and occasionally, I pick up on subtle details that most people miss.”

  The group fell silent, digesting the information. Jace took a deep, slow breath, determination igniting in his eyes. “I need to see Hades.”

  “Maybe he’ll talk to you because of your role as Society President. I don’t know. But the other gods have been... less than informative since we arrived,” Alice replied, her voice edged with frustration. She clenched her fists, her usual calm demeanor cracking.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Jace noticed the tightness in Alice’s jaw, the way her eyes flicked to the floor. She had always been the rational one, but the strain was getting to her too.

  Before Jace could respond, an announcement from Orion, the commanding centaur, cut through the chaos like a blade. His presence alone was enough to silence the throng. Draped in deep blue robes that accentuated his powerful, muscular frame, Orion’s every step exuded authority. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd, ensuring he had their full attention. “If you will all follow me,” he intoned, his voice a deep, resonant calm in the now total quiet. “Archmage Theon wishes to address the recent situation.”

  The students, driven by a mix of curiosity and fear, followed Orion through the winding corridors to the grand hall. The air buzzed with uneasy anticipation. The hall itself was a marvel of arcane architecture, with high vaulted ceilings that seemed to touch the heavens, and walls adorned with intricate tapestries depicting legendary battles and ancient spells.

  As they walked, Jace felt heard the murmur of frightened voices filled the corridor. Some students’ faces were pale and drawn, eyes wide with anxiety. Others moved in tight, protective clusters, casting wary glances around them.

  Archmage Theon stood at the far end of the hall, his presence both comforting and imposing. His robes, a dazzling cascade of colors that seemed to mimic the flicker of lightning, flowed around him. His eyes, kind but shadowed with concern, surveyed the assembled students.

  The grand hall buzzed with nervous energy, students shuffling in, faces a mix of curiosity and fear. The usual chatter dimmed, then ceased entirely as the Archmage ascended the dais. His robes, woven with threads of liquid lightning, shimmered with an otherworldly glow. His eyes, sharp with shadowed concern, scanned the sea of young faces.

  “Let’s draw a line,” the Archmage’s voice sliced through the tense silence. He shot a bolt of energy from his staff into the air, forming a glowing barrier. “On one side, everything we know. On the other, all we don’t. Here’s what we do know: as of dawn yesterday, every student across Olympus has lost the ability to log out.”

  A ripple of shock surged through the crowd. The Archmage, unperturbed, pressed on. “I dispatched messages to the different universities and kingdoms to see if this was local or Terra-wide. Responses came from the Island School of Veridiana, the Storm Tower Academy of Zephyrion, and the Crystal Keep of Aeloria, among others. Ten schools have replied. Only the Ancient Pyramids of Nephthys remain silent”

  “I’ve also contacted the governing bodies across Mythica’s eleven remaining great nations,” the Archmage continued. “They report the same: their Travelers can’t log out.”

  The room, thick with anxiety, felt smaller as the enormity of the situation settled in. Faces turned pale, whispers of disbelief spreading like wildfire. The Archmage stood tall, a solitary pillar of calm amidst the brewing storm.

  The hall erupted in a flurry of murmured fears and confusion. The Archmage tapped his cane, crowned with a carved thunderbird whose wings flickered with pure lightning. Silence fell once more, the power of the cane evident.

  “We know that the Dark One attacked this very school. We’re still investigating how this breach was possible.”

  He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. The information appeared on the side of the line marked “What We Know.” “What we don’t know is if he caused the current issues. Speculations about the return of the AI Plague Virus are unsubstantiated.”

  A collective sigh of relief washed over them.

  “And thanks to some of our more... creative students,” the Archmage continued, gesturing towards Thistle, perched on Dex’s shoulders and now flushed a bright pink, “we have reason to believe that respawn continues to function without interference.”

  Thistle leaned over to Jace. “Kinda died last night while blowing off some steam with Dex. Long story.”

  Jace raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

  Dex chuckled, shaking his head. “You ever hear of ‘cow tipping’? Turns out minotaurs have a much stronger opinion on the matter—and they tip back.”

  “However,” the Archmage said, his tone shifting to cautious optimism, “it would be best to keep the fact of respawn in the unknown category for now. We don’t understand the cost, but we’re investigating any clues regarding potential side effects.”

  The room remained tense, but the Archmage’s words brought a flicker of hope. As he spoke, the students sensed that while the situation was dire, they were not entirely without recourse. The Archmage’s steady presence was a beacon, guiding them through the darkness with measured optimism and unwavering resolve.

  “Now, this is of the utmost importance: we must address the greatest unknown - what is to come. You are not children, and I will not treat you as such. You deserve to know what may lie ahead. Many of you may feel the urge to hide until this is resolved. I wouldn’t blame you. But whatever caused this anomaly, whatever allowed the Dark One to breach our defenses and attack five of our students, won’t pause. Whether the Dark One is directly behind it or not, he will undoubtedly use it to his advantage. And so, we must all be prepared.”

  The Archmage began to pace, his robes trailing like a storm cloud.

  “For eons, the twelve great kingdoms of Terra Mythica have flourished.”

  In a brilliant flash, the Archmage cast another bolt of light, conjuring an ethereal image of Terra Mythica high above the crowd. The kingdoms glowed in vivid hues, a breathtaking panorama of color. Yet, an ominous shadow crept across the map, marring its beauty.

  Suspended in the air, the map pulsed with the passage of time. Darkness surged and retreated, like a tide in a relentless struggle. The ebb and flow continued, until the crowd witnessed a pivotal moment: the birth of the Thirteenth Kingdom. In an instant, this new realm consumed one of the twelve, obliterating the once lush and verdant lands of Roandia. The crowd gasped as the grassy fields vanished, replaced by the encroaching shadow.

  “This may be familiar to some of you. You may have seen this display in your classes. But perhaps you have not seen this part.”

  The darkness crept further, its tendrils weaving into the different kingdoms, painting a more dreadful picture than ever before.

  “This is not merely a clash of armies. It is Light against Dark, the infinite beginning against the eternal end. Mount Olympus University was founded to prepare you, the next generation, to face this peril, to fight back against the encroaching shadow. Should the Thirteenth Kingdom prevail, light will turn to dark, beginnings to ends, and life to endless void.”

  As he spoke, the image was covered in inky waves of black. The students exchanged uneasy glances.

  “Who here knows our University symbol and patron creature?” the Archmage asked.

  Alice raised her hand. “Miss Candor?”

  “The Phoenix,” she replied.

  “Correct. Now, do you know why the Phoenix?” No one answered.

  “The Phoenix represents all things in this world,” the Archmage continued, his voice softening slightly. “Birth. Growth. Decay. Death. And Rebirth, starting the cycle anew. A story has a beginning, a middle, and an end, just as all things material do. An abandoned home may rot and wither away, its decay leading to death. But from that decay, new life may sprout, growing into a fine tree that can be used to build again. A mortal coil may be shed, but the soul survives and carries on to start anew. Travelers call this respawn. Citizens experience it slightly differently; we call it reincarnation. Some may remember, some choose to forget. But the cycle goes on.”

  The Archmage’s gaze hardened. “Yet, there is a force that seeks to end that cycle. A darkness that seeks no rebirth, only eternal nothingness. The end of all things.”

  He paused, and the students shifted uneasily, their faces a blend of fear and determination.

  “Some of you may believe you are immune, as you always have been. But that is no longer true, if it ever was. The darkness that is coming, the end it yearns to bring, is not stopped by your status as Travelers. Imagine drifting in an endless darkness, forever, your mind and soul lost among the void.”

  The Archmage resumed pacing, his robes sweeping the floor like storm clouds. “In the ancient lore of our world, it is said that knowing the true name of a thing grants one dominion over it. This, in essence, is true. More precisely, to know something to its very core—to perceive it without bias or distraction—grants the wielder unparalleled Affinity and ability regarding it.”

  He stopped and faced the students, his gaze piercing through them. “There is an old Traveler’s adage: ‘What one does not know cannot hurt one.’ This belief might be the very shackle that has kept those in the Travelers’ home realm from mastering the Affinities. They wield remarkable technology, yet their understanding of its potential remains childlike.”

  He moved to the center of the dais, his voice rising with urgency. “Indeed, it is less than childlike, for children still glimpse the magic adults forsake. The few adults who retain this sight are often ostracized until they renounce it, allowing the Affinities to fade into willful oblivion. In reality, it is only what you do not know that can harm you, and only to the extent of your ignorance.”

  He raised his hand, conjuring a flickering flame. “Consider the man who first discovers fire. Without understanding, he may immolate himself or set fire to a town. He may learn to ignite it but not to control it. Or a wizard who knows a ritual but lacks the practice and certainty in its components and has no Affinity with the magic involved. His ignorance could bring ruin upon himself and the world.”

  The flame danced in his palm, casting eerie shadows across his face. “And that is your first and most fundamental lesson: it is only that which you do not know that can hurt you. And thus, you gain mastery over anything to the degree that you understand it.”

  He extinguished the flame with a snap of his fingers, plunging the room into a hushed darkness. The students stared at him, wide-eyed, absorbing the gravity of his words. The Archmage’s presence filled the room, a beacon of both warning and hope, urging them to seek knowledge and understanding in the face of the encroaching darkness.

  The Archmage continued, “This is not a battle with borders. And I will be honest where many would not.”

  The high council teachers exchanged worried glances, sensing he was about to take a dangerous step. An elderly man with a long, flowing beard, Professor Dranice Thorne, Master of Games, began to rise, his voice trembling with concern. “Archmage, you can’t possibly be…”

  But the Archmage did not pause. “My friends, we are losing this war. We have been losing this war for many years. And we do not know how long we can hold out.”

  Dranice sat back down, his lips pressed into a thin line and a deep frown creasing his forehead.

  “This school was founded to usher new recruits into a war that has raged for centuries, a war older than the stones beneath our feet. The boundaries we set were meant to shield you from harsh truths until you were ready. But the tides have shifted, and tradition must bow to necessity. Your User Interface Stones, those small silver stones that connect you to the system and your HUD, are bound to your very souls. They restrict you, keeping you within our safest zones until you rank up and complete your training. These boundaries were our fortress, our sanctuary, granting us precious time to prepare you for the battles ahead.

  But now, the walls of our sanctuary are crumbling. The darkness is no longer a distant threat; it is here, encroaching upon us. The time for shelter and protection is over. To face the looming shadow, you must complete your training.”

  The Archmage’s gaze hardened, his voice a razor’s edge. “Our enemies are at the gates, and the luxury of time has been stolen from us. You must learn to protect yourselves and those you love. Steel yourselves for the coming storm. This is not just about survival—it’s about fighting for the very soul of our realm.”

  The Archmage’s words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding.

  “Our ancient wards are failing, and our enemies grow bolder.”

  The students exchanged nervous glances as the Archmage halted and faced them, his eyes burning with determination. When he spoke, his voice resonated through the hall, commanding their attention.

  “The Thirteenth Kingdom seeks to plunge us into eternal night.”

  A student raised their hand, confusion etched on their face. “Why can we still read the news and get feeds from the Grid, but we can’t reach back?”

  Theon sighed, his eyes heavy with uncertainty. “We don’t know for sure. We are scouring the entire Grid to figure it out. But it appears the Grid itself is waning; once available sections are disappearing. We believe our access is only temporary and suspect that whatever is causing this wants to allow Travelers in, but not out. And at some point, even that will cease.”

  “Archmage,” another student called out, standing up. Tall and lanky, with a shock of red hair and an earnest expression, he hesitated. “I’m confused. You’re acting like this isn’t a game. When the logout option comes back, we’ll just log out and wait for them to fix the bugs.”

  The Archmage’s gaze softened, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “There are still many things we do not know. Chief among them is whether we will ever be given the option to log out again.”

  A heavy silence blanketed the hall.

  “For now, and unless something changes, it is best not to treat this world like a game. I implore you to treat your fellow citizens with respect and kindness, as they did not cause this. Show what it means to be a Traveler. In the best of times, kindness is paramount. And in the worst of times, it is even more crucial.”

  The students exchanged uneasy glances. The Archmage took a deep breath and continued, his voice soft. “Go to your classes. Hone your skills. Train diligently. Show kindness to one another. Treat this as real life, and you just might survive it.”

  With that, he dismissed the assembly. The students sat motionless, the gravity of his words sinking in. For a long moment, silence reigned before they slowly began to file out of the hall, each step heavier with the weight of their new reality.